THE 
 
 CONQUERING 
 OF KATE 
 
 BY
 
 
 cf QSJZ*- t- 
 
 /
 
 THE CONQUERING OF KATE
 
 BOOKS BY 
 J. P. MOWBRAY 
 
 ("J. P. M.") 
 
 A JOURNEY TO NATURE 
 
 TANGLED Up IN BEULAH LAND 
 
 THE MAKING or A COUNTRY HOME 
 
 THE CONQUERING OF KATE
 
 THE 
 
 CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 BY 
 
 J. P. MOWBRAY 
 
 ("J. P. M.") 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY 
 1903
 
 Copyright, 190?, by 
 
 Doubleday, Page & Company 
 
 Published, April. 1903
 
 PREFACE 
 
 What this story is in its completion a sincere 
 modesty prevents me from saying. What it was 
 intended to be I am permitted to acknowledge, and 
 thus, perforce, place in the reader's hand that wand 
 which enables him to measure the gap between inten- 
 tion and accomplishment. 
 
 It was intended to be a romance of a passing 
 phase of American life, written con amore, out of the 
 imagination, but dealing as it passed with some 
 mysteries of our human nature that are not passing 
 phases, but abiding problems. I have to acknowledge 
 my indebtedness throughout the task, less, indeed, to 
 those formal assistants that so readily leap from the 
 shelves to our hand, than to a kindly magician who 
 came in peaceful hours of isolation, and, like Faith 
 itself, was not only able to remove mountains, but 
 to create them. 
 
 2138213
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. A Natural Impulse 3 
 
 II. The Overseer 14 
 
 III. The Crushing of John Burt ... 28 
 
 IV. Backward . . . . -39 
 V. Subtle Antagonisms . . . .65 
 
 VI. Renewed Chumship . . . .80 
 
 VII. The Judge Also Dances a Minuet . . 100 
 
 VIII. The Witch's Run 129 
 
 IX. Gossamer Trifles 143 
 
 X. The Triumph of Weakness . . .156 
 
 XI. "Plum Honey" . . . '. .175 
 
 XII. Some Wild Rosebuds . .. . . 194 
 
 XIII. The Onus Probandi .... 204 
 
 XIV. Sisterly Intervention . . . .217 
 XV. A Thunderstorm . ' ,. . .229 
 
 XVI. "Y'r Couldn't be Squar' " , . .251 
 XVII. The Unexpected . . . . . 261 
 
 XVIII. "Heart Failure" . . . . .276 
 
 XIX. A Revelation .... . . .290 
 
 XX. The Devil's Link in the Chain of Nature 
 
 and Other Links Not so Satanic . . 300
 
 THE CONQUERING OF KATE
 
 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 A NATURAL IMPULSE 
 
 NOTWITHSTANDING the constant reminder of 
 roses, the air at Bourgeonville is astonishingly 
 pure. In the uplands it is diluted by an ether 
 that, it is said, makes the heart and the lungs work 
 faster, as if they were, indeed, trying to get more 
 of it. 
 
 The late Colonel Fairfax Bussey always spoke of the 
 atmosphere as one of his assets, and he was, without 
 doubt, one of the best examples in Franklin County 
 of its vitalizing effects. His domain was in an inter- 
 mediate zone, neither North nor South, except as it was 
 set off by an arbitrary cartographic line that still carries 
 the name of Mason and Dixon. But no one, descending 
 suddenly upon Bourgeonville, could tell by the flora, 
 the architecture, or the colour of the servants, that he 
 was not in Virginia, the misty peaks of which were 
 sometimes dimly discernible on a clear day across 
 the intervening strip of Maryland. 
 
 The late Colonel Fairfax Bussey lived and died at 
 Bourgeonville, though the town itself never came up, as 
 he had hoped, to his broad acres, but with the crassness 
 of all incipient towns stretched itself in an opposite 
 direction and left him there in his patriarchal paradise, 
 a highly respected and altogether magnificent example 
 
 3
 
 4 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 of the ancient regime who, I dare say, rather resented 
 at heart the inevitable encroachments of enterprise. 
 
 The place is put down on the early township maps as 
 Catalpa Grange, a fanciful title, long fallen into disuse 
 except by the older members of the family. It must 
 have been conferred by the Colonel's mother, who built 
 the house in the early forties and brought with her 
 from Virginia the catalpa trees that for the most part 
 have now given way to chestnuts. 
 
 It is the last of May, and the house and grounds, 
 enswathed in the morning sunshine, wear a soft aspect 
 of dignified neglect curiously intermingled with the 
 reckless opulence of Nature. The spacious mansion at 
 the top of the rise, planted against the weedy, crescent- 
 shaped terraces, glimmers at you through the foliage, 
 with its Corinthian portico, its white wings and its 
 green shutters, one or two of which are slightly awry, 
 with a familiar, reminiscent and pleasantly melancholy 
 air as of the past, in which there is a dowager dignity 
 and exclusiveness, almost defiant one would say, of 
 time and change. 
 
 You know these old houses well if you have traveled 
 and mused in the farther South. Their decrepit manorial 
 hauteur always brings to you with a softened pathos 
 the- legends of patriarchal days when the colonial spirit 
 followed in the footsteps of adventure, and homes, 
 hewed out of the wilderness, were also castles and 
 sanctuaries. 
 
 But planted suddenly, as I am trying to plant you, 
 on one of the terraces in front of this old mansion, I 
 doubt that without my knowledge of the house's history 
 you would give much attention to its familiar aspect. 
 You would be dazed I almost said intoxicated by 
 the natural beauty of the surroundings, and I feel sure
 
 A NATURAL IMPULSE 5 
 
 would not resent my having called it a paradise. You 
 might even fancy for the moment that I had dropped 
 you in one of the vales of Lombardy or put you softly 
 down in the south of France; the sky is so deeply blue, 
 and the breeze from the Shenandoah Valley is so capri- 
 ciously soft that you can almost swear you smell the 
 Mediterranean. Then, too, there is over all that still, 
 drowsy, chalet air, as if the place had been maturing 
 and toning for a hundred years, and the sunshine, like 
 old wine, were riper than you had ever known it, and 
 the roses such great, lusty growths of them, already 
 flushing the east wing with riotous profusion were 
 the children of untold generations. 
 
 The house has not been painted in six years that 
 is, since the Colonel died. But the roses have covered 
 the marks of neglect and the June grass is already 
 high along the foundations, fringing all the approaches 
 with protective and luxurious impudence. Westward 
 the tableland on which the house stands is shadowy 
 with grotesque apple trees. Eastward the grove shuts 
 off Bourgeon ville, and southward, close to earth in the 
 indigo sky, are some bellying white clouds crawling along 
 the horizon like the wings of aerial frigates, themselves 
 hull down. 
 
 If you listen you will hear nothing but the drone of 
 the bees in the roses and an occasional note of a robin, 
 strangely bell-like in the woods. It is enchanted ground. 
 Something would tell you that without any assistance 
 from me. But I am bound to add that there is also a 
 princess shall I say a sleeping princess? No; for 
 there she comes up the wood road on a white mare. 
 
 She comes limply and musingly toward the house, 
 her mind evidently steeped in some problem of her 
 own that makes her indifferent to her surroundings,
 
 6 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 but withal there is a dignified look of resolution in her 
 young face as if she meant to brave the problem, what- 
 ever it was. 
 
 The mare picked her way leisurely along the embroid- 
 ered road unguided, dropping her head now and then 
 to bite at the tufts of grass, and once coming to a stand- 
 still over a bunch of clover without a remonstrance from 
 the rider, who sat upright but listless, staring into the 
 trees ahead of her without seeing them, until, suddenly 
 recalled to herself, she said softly, "Go on, Cherry," 
 and once more proceeded on her way, lit, as it were, by 
 flashes as the sun came at her through the openings. 
 
 The old riding-habit that she wore had an extempo- 
 rized appearance and did not fit her very snugly, but she 
 sat the animal with the unmistakable and unconscious 
 ease of a horsewoman. And, now I think of it, how 
 could it be otherwise, when her father, the late Colonel, if 
 old " Unc'l Dan'l " is to be believed, had her on a stallion 
 before she knew the Lord's Prayer, and Unc'l Dan'l 
 ought to know, for it was one of his proudest duties 
 to show visitors the two handsome prizes that she 
 obtained from the Franklin Equestrian Club when she 
 was seventeen, which prizes still hung in the big hall. 
 
 The late Senator Pettingill, of Kent, who knew her 
 grandmother, the original Kate of the Catalpas, said 
 that Miss Kate was a replica. But this, I fancy, was 
 an echo of the expectations of the second generation. 
 There is a picture of the grandmother, painted by 
 Paradise, hanging in ex-Governor Fletcher's home, or 
 was two or three years ago, and there certainly was a 
 resemblance, vague but insistent, in the mien rather 
 than in the expression of the two women, one of whom 
 must have been thirty-eight when her picture was 
 taken, while the other was now only twenty-one. It
 
 A NATURAL IMPULSE 7 
 
 was a constant remark in her family that she looked 
 like her grandmother "in a certain light," and I suspect 
 that this light was her own. She had the distinctively 
 arched eyebrows of the picture,' a feature that gave her, 
 in certain serious moods, an appearance of hauteur that 
 was not warranted by the softer lines of her mouth and 
 the melting possibilities of her eyes. It is difficult to 
 trace a resemblance in complexion, and yet it is the 
 impression of lustrousness in the girl's face that odd 
 illusion of a light shining through that takes one back 
 to the picture. And this characteristic must have 
 been familiar to the family, for I find among the treas- 
 ured sayings of Unc'l Dan'l the remark that " Dis yar 
 chile shine in de dark, suah," a bit of affectionate 
 exaggeration upon which I cannot improve at the 
 moment, as Kate, wrapped in her thoughts, rides up 
 the slant of the wood road and comes out in front of 
 the portico. 
 
 Once there, she slipped easily from the animal and let 
 it proceed around the corner of the house. Then catch- 
 ing up her skirt, she mounted the steps. Before she 
 was fairly at the top, the hall door opened and two 
 women, who must have been watching her through the 
 blinds, came out to meet her. One, young, eager and 
 exuberant, is her sister Sylvia. The other, coming after 
 more deliberately and with well-suppressed anxiety, 
 is her father's sister Aunt Sussex Bussey. One, in a 
 white dress, rushed at Kate immediately. The other 
 stood a little way off 'in black silk and corsets, with well- 
 disciplined anxiety. 
 
 "It isn't true, is it?" cried Sylvia. "What did you 
 do? Tell us all about it." 
 
 Kate stood at one of the fluted columns that sup- 
 ported the portico. She unconsciously fell into a pose
 
 8 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 as she lifted her gloved hand, still holding the riding- 
 whip, and leaned against the pillar looking dreamily 
 into the misty South ; and there was presented on the 
 little stage of the veranda a household tableau of 
 which the tall girl at the front was at once the pictorial 
 principal, emphasizing in her attitude no less than in 
 her statelier calmness the unlikeness to her sister 
 Sylvia, who, two years younger, betrayed by her 
 suspended eagerness and impatience, not alone the more 
 useful impulses, but a more impetuous temperament. 
 The higher colour of the younger sister, her half -open 
 mouth, ready for ejaculation and showing her little 
 white teeth made to snap at something, declared the 
 girlishness come to the edge of womanhood without 
 knowing it and joyously indifferent with superabundant 
 health to all the responsibilities of being a woman. 
 
 Miss Sussex Bussey sat down in a Quaker rocker. 
 There was about her a certain bird-like fragility in 
 spite of her stiff and precise air. Her smallest move- 
 ment had a gentle rustle above and a small creak below, 
 and it was very evident from the solemnity of her satiny 
 pink face that she felt this to be a moment in which her 
 judicial capacity was to be tested. The responsibility 
 of preserving the dignity of the house against all odds 
 and with few resources had worn some revered wrinkles 
 in her kindly face. In a word, she was a motherly, 
 simple-minded dame of the old school who had heroic- 
 ally preserved her authority of demeanour at the 
 expense of complaisance. 
 
 "Well, I declare ! " cried Sylvia. "Are you going to 
 speak to us ? Is it as bad as we suspected?" 
 
 "It is worse," replied Kate, still staring with a set 
 expression of face into the South, and her voice had 
 a warm depth in it unlike the pitch and timbre of
 
 A NATURAL IMPULSE 9 
 
 Sylvia's. "Not only is it all true," she said, "but it 
 is incredibly infamous." 
 
 "My dear," said her aunt, as she adjusted her skirts, 
 "I wish you would turn round and talk calmly and 
 intelligently, then I shall know what to do. My 
 decision must depend upon your information. Is the 
 place to be sold?" 
 
 "Worse than that." 
 
 "Worse?" repeated her aunt, tapping her old- 
 fashioned slipper on the flooring the slipper was 
 fastened to her foot by two black ribbons crossing her 
 instep. It was as if her suppressed anxiety, so well 
 managed in her pink face, had broken softly loose at 
 the extremity. "There is nothing worse than that," 
 she said. "You forget that I will not recognize any- 
 thing to be worse." 
 
 "Aunty," said Kate, "it is not to be expected that 
 you will recognize the inevitable. It is your privilege 
 not to. The place is not to be sold under the hammer 
 at least, not at present. A superintendent or overseer 
 has been appointed by the Court for the creditor. I 
 believe he is from the North. He is coming here to run 
 things that is the wretched phrase. Do you know 
 what it means? Public sentiment in Franklin would 
 not permit them to eject us with violence, so we are to 
 be frozen out. The superintendent will plow up the 
 terraces and cut down the timber and block the way to 
 our last retreat with bricks and mortar and make our 
 lives miserable with Italian labourers and assassins." 
 
 Her air of contempt and indignation was both heroic 
 and martyr-like as she poured out this speech with 
 a rich round voice and whipped the fluted column 
 nervously. 
 
 Sylvia was more curious than frightened. Her
 
 io THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 hands came together impulsively as if undetermined 
 whether to wring themselves or to applaud. 
 
 " Heavens ! " she said. " What are we to do ?" 
 
 "We can at least be calm and sensible," said Aunt 
 Sussex. "No one can invade our premises without 
 our permission." 
 
 Kate shrugged her shoulders. "I am afraid," she 
 said, "that our premises and our permission both 
 belong to the same illusion. Judge Heckshent is not 
 brutal enough to expect to wring the principal from us, 
 but he is unscrupulous enough to declare that the place 
 shall be made to pay the interest. It is an entirely 
 masculine and practical view, and we are only women. 
 If we had his common sense I suppose we should see 
 that it is a duty to have the grounds blown up with 
 dynamite and the house my father's house pulled 
 down over our heads." 
 
 The younger pair of eyes began to stare as this dire 
 picture presented itself to her vision. She had been 
 over to the Tuscarora Quarries more than once to see 
 her friend Penelly Seton, where there was a ghastly 
 chaos of stone and mules, and somehow that dreadful 
 picture always associated itself in her mind with dyna- 
 mite and improvement. She saw at once the old 
 plaisance upturned, the ancestral trees lying across 
 each other with their dirt-clogged roots in the 
 air, and mounds of raw earth heaped up around 
 the house, with narrow planks on top for the ladies 
 of the manse to walk on. Her fair round face was 
 full of innocent wonder. She somehow reached the 
 other fluted column, and for a moment these two 
 women converted the portal into a gateway of 
 loveliness that should have protected it even from 
 Northern invasion.
 
 A NATURAL IMPULSE n 
 
 "Do you know," exclaimed Sylvia, "I think it is 
 altogether too ridiculous to be true." 
 
 Aunt Sussex paid no attention to her. "Kate," she 
 said, "I must remind you that even creditors in this 
 county cannot override the rights of our family 
 nor defy public opinion even by due process of 
 law." 
 
 "Aunty," replied Kate a little testily, "our rights are 
 quite incapable of paying the interest. If our neighbour 
 does not regard our rights or our feelings it is quite 
 unlikely that a stranger will. Judge Heckshent cannot 
 in decency move our poor old chattels into the highway, 
 but he can make it so uncomfortable for us here that we 
 shall be glad to escape. In that case, he will effect his 
 purpose and avoid public indignation." 
 
 "Why, Uncle Caleb would never in the world do such 
 a thing!" exclaimed Sylvia. 
 
 "My child," said Aunt Sussex, "whatever takes 
 place, we must preserve our self-respect. A superin- 
 tendent cannot trespass on our grounds without our 
 permission." 
 
 "If the superintendent is a practical man," replied 
 Kate, "he will execute brutally all the Judge's orders, 
 while his master smiles and apologizes and flatters us. 
 We must make up our minds to submit and see all 
 the tenderest associations of our home trampled into the 
 mud unless unless it is not too late in life to become 
 practical ourselves." 
 
 "That's it !" cried Sylvia. "Let's be practical our- 
 selves. Why not sell everything and pay the interest ? 
 How much is it?" 
 
 Nobody answered this question. It was very doubt- 
 ful if anybody knew. 
 
 "One thing is very certain," said Aunt Sussex, now
 
 12 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 tapping both her gartered slippers on the porch. "We 
 can preserve our self-respect." 
 
 "It is the only thing that will bring anything in the 
 market," replied Kate vaguely; "and I have been offered 
 a good price for mine." 
 
 "My dear," said her aunt, "if you expect me to consult 
 with you on these matters, I must insist that you talk 
 like a Bussey at least, while I am present. I think 
 you ought to know that a Bussey never permitted 
 misfortune to interfere with her decorum." 
 
 She got up from the chair with much dignity and 
 rustle and asked, "Did you see the Judge ?" 
 
 "No," replied Kate. "I saw that person his wife." 
 
 "And you cannot see how painful it is to me that 
 you should so demean yourself." 
 
 "I wanted to know the truth, and I got it rather 
 more defiantly than I expected. However, it was just 
 as well that I saw her, for she recalled me to a sense of 
 my own duty." 
 
 At this she strode to the hall door, the two women 
 looking at her with something like admiration, for at that 
 moment she seemed to come out flashingly as the real 
 Kate of the Catalpas. 
 
 "What are you going to do ?" asked her aunt. 
 
 "I am going to write to Mr. Journingham. You 
 can have Pierson bring the mare back and wait for my 
 letter." 
 
 Then she was gone, and the two women stood 
 looking after her. 
 
 "She should have done it a month ago," said Aunt 
 Sussex reflectively. 
 
 . "Gracious me !" exclaimed Sylvia, sitting down on 
 the top step. 
 
 The southwind uttered what might have been a soft
 
 A NATURAL IMPULSE 13 
 
 gasp, but it was the familiar breath of the coming 
 summer. The leaves on the vines executed a little 
 tremolo, but it was their custom. And Sylvia, with a 
 vacant but very charming stare, looked dreamily, as 
 her sister had done, into the spell around her without 
 the slightest notion that Kate had in one sudden impulse 
 cleared the way for all the possibilities, and invited all 
 the pains of this story.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 THE OVERSEER 
 
 THE interior of the old mansion wore the aspect 
 of a guarded casket; not that anybody intended 
 it should, but try and imagine a house without a 
 man in it for six years. It acquires an atmosphere of 
 soft remoteness, as if wood and mortar and furniture, 
 already old, could take on something of the suppressive 
 privacy of women themselves. 
 
 There was a time when the house echoed to heavy 
 footfalls and authoritative commands shook a little 
 with brawling laughter and occasional lusty old- 
 fashioned oaths; but a silence fell on the house when 
 the Colonel died, and it never fairly recovered from 
 the three days of hush during which the girls went 
 about on tiptoe, with red eyes, and spoke in whispers. 
 
 Now and then Sylvia's young friend, Penelly Seton, 
 a delightful little chatterbox, drove over in her basket 
 phaeton from the Quarries and fluttered round like a 
 yellow butterfly. Then the two of them, without any 
 definite purpose, managed to freshen up matters a bit. 
 
 The rich owner of the Tuscarora Quarries, being a 
 widower, had no other glimmer but this, and he allowed 
 Penelly to flutter pretty much as she pleased. She 
 always came to the Grange unexpectedly, and went 
 out inexplicably, as if, like a disappearing flicker, some- 
 thing had intervened. Probably she shimmered round 
 the Quarries in pink and white in much the same way, 
 
 14
 
 THE OVERSEER 15 
 
 for the men called her "Waxworks" with a coarse 
 respectfulness and a sense of her antithesis to granite 
 and shale. There was a superstition among them 
 that she was pretty, as perhaps the boss's daughter was 
 bound to be ; but the poor fellows were not quite able to 
 distinguish between what is petite and what is pretty, 
 and they had no opportunity of comparing her with 
 the women at the Grange. She was at least a pert 
 and dainty contrast to the lusty wenches who trailed 
 upon the fringes of the Quarries. Perhaps she was 
 pretty. It is not easy to determine these matters. But 
 to my taste, her pink-and- white face and yellow curls 
 suggest those French dolls that our sisters long ago 
 carried about in their arms and hugged immoderately 
 because they were so unlike babyhood and so much like 
 precocious French ballet dancers. She had, I fancy, little 
 incorrigibilities and pretty little envies that would not 
 have been put up with even by Sylvia if there had been 
 others to choose from in the paradise of Bourgeonville. 
 If Penelly was really pretty, it was when she was not close 
 enough to Sylvia to invite comparison. Her face was 
 too sharp at the bottom, and, with the wad of yellow 
 hair, too broad at the top, not to make one turn to the 
 companion face as if for a better equilibrium. Her 
 big blue eyes, too, if I must say it, always had a side 
 suggestion of dilution, as if somehow that which was 
 meant to be enthusiasm was half water. Her vivacity 
 was delightfully vacuous, and yet it was insistent and 
 wedge-like, and always seemed to be on the alert for a 
 crevice of tattle that could be pried open to a chasm 
 of gossip. 
 
 One morning Penelly came over and the two of them 
 tried to make the old house lively, opening the hall 
 doors, pulling the heavy rockers out on the porch with
 
 1 6 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 much bumping and screaming, throwing back the 
 shutters in the parlour, coaxing up old melodies on 
 the piano, talking very loud as if noise, like sunshine, 
 would brighten matters. But, as usual, they rounded 
 up their frolic in Sylvia's big chamber upstairs in the 
 east wing, where they shut the door softly and, turning 
 the key, relapsed into the more guarded privileges of 
 femininity. Sylvia suggested that her friend help 
 her mend the lace curtains from the parlour, many 
 washings having frayed them badly ; but no sooner were 
 they both comfortably seated on the carpet than the 
 unusual sound of horse's hoofs on the gravel brought 
 them both to the window with a jump, and there, sure 
 enough, was the new superintendent, on a black horse. 
 
 He had ridden up to the entrance, dropped the bridle, 
 and, twisted about in the saddle, was leisurely admiring 
 the prospect. 
 
 "Oh," cries Penelly, "isn't he a dandy !" 
 
 "Maybe to your eyes," said Sylvia. "But, you must 
 know that we are under obligations to consider him a 
 ruffian." 
 
 Whereupon Penelly giggled, and the rider, hearing 
 their voices, looked up and took off his hat, at which 
 both girls instantly dodged behind opposite sides of the 
 curtain, and Penelly said: 
 
 "Lands ! He must have heard us !" 
 
 "I wonder if he's coming in?" asked Sylvia. 
 
 The next moment she had run out impetuously across 
 the hall and opened Kate's door. 
 
 "Come quick," she said; "here's the superintendent. 
 You can see him from my window." 
 
 "Shut the door," said Kate. "I don't want to see 
 him." 
 
 "But he may come in, you know."
 
 THE OVERSEER 17 
 
 "I dare say he is quite capable of it. But he isn't 
 coming in here. Shut the door." 
 
 Presently Sylvia was back in her own room, and, 
 dropping once more to the floor, she said : 
 
 "You watch him, Pen, and see that he doesn't steal 
 anything, and tell me all about him. I mustn't feel 
 interested." 
 
 "He's coming in he's coming in," whispered Penelly. 
 
 Aunt Sussex was prepared for the visitor. When 
 the old-fashioned knocker resounded through the hall 
 ominously with a summons, she sent Leesha, their one 
 servant, back to the kitchen with extra dignity, saying, 
 "I will attend to this," and then opening the hall door 
 guardedly she found a man standing there. 
 
 "Is this Miss Bussey ?" he inquired courteously. 
 
 "Yes," replied Aunt Sussex rather grimly, as she held 
 the door one-third open, "Miss Sussex Bussey." 
 
 He bowed. "I am sent here," he said, "to inspect 
 the place with a view to its improvement," and handed 
 her his card. "I thought it only proper to pay my 
 repects to the occupants of the house." 
 
 "You could have consulted the convenience of the 
 occupants better," said the fragile Aunt Sussex, doing 
 her best to bristle in a most unbirdlike manner, 
 "by not entering the grounds, sir. We have not 
 solicited your valuable assistance, and object to the 
 improvements." 
 
 He looked a little astonished and shrugged his shoul- 
 ders. "I thought," he said, "that my position in the 
 matter had been explained to you, and I was simply 
 desirous of getting your views, and if possible of serving 
 you." 
 
 "Our views, sir, are very simple," replied Aunt Sussex, 
 "and easily obtained. We consider it an outrage for a
 
 i8 THE CONQUERING OP KATE 
 
 stranger to come here to disturb and destroy the memo- 
 rials of two generations. As for the interests of the 
 Busseys, the family has always been able to look after 
 them in its own way without assistance." 
 
 "Madam," said the young man, "I am sorry to see 
 that you are labouring under some kind of misappre- 
 hension. I beg your pardon for having intruded upon 
 you." 
 
 It was curtly but not unkindly said. He lifted his 
 hat, made another graceful bow, and turning, strode off 
 the porch. A moment later he had mounted his horse 
 with an easy leap and was proceeding slowly round the 
 house. 
 
 Aunt Sussex shut the door and put the chain upon 
 it carefully. There was not the slightest doubt in her 
 mind of the entire success of the interview. She had 
 sustained the Bussey dignity in the face of an intruder. 
 She went up to Kate's room, put on her glasses and 
 looked at the card in her hand. There was nothing 
 on it but the words, simply inscribed, "John Burt." 
 So she threw it on the floor and sat down to talk 
 to Kate. 
 
 The horseman rode away westward through the orchard 
 for half a mile until he came to a gate leading into a lane. 
 There Judge Heckshent awaited him on a rawboned 
 horse, as if by agreement and as if he had desired to avoid 
 the house. The rigid and antique gentleman, in a claret- 
 coloured surtout with brass buttons, looked like a remi- 
 niscence in the green lane. His long, gaunt figure, with 
 a corresponding gaunt face and white whiskers shadowed 
 by a broad-brimmed felt hat, made John Burt think of 
 Kentucky. The rigidity of demeanour was somewhat 
 enhanced by a black silk neckerchief wound about his 
 neck as a cravat, as if to keep up the tradition of the old
 
 THE OVERSEER 19 
 
 stock once so familiar, from which his somewhat scrawny 
 neck seemed to be trying to escape. The slightly 
 austere venerableness and dignity of the man were for- 
 gotten in a few minutes' intimacy on account of the 
 kindly nature which underlaid them. 
 
 " Morning, sir, " he said in a slightly high, thin key, as 
 he gave his neck a twist, a habit no doubt contracted 
 when the aforementioned stocks were in vogue. "You 
 called?" making a slight motion of his hand in the 
 direction of the house. 
 
 "Yes, " said Mr. Burt. " It was in my way and only 
 decent to pay my respects. " 
 
 "Did you pay 'em ? ' ' 
 
 "Hardly. They seemed to object to them." 
 
 "Constitutional aversion to having anything paid," 
 said the Judge. "Slammed the door in your face, I 
 expect. The most un-prac-ti-cable, consarned set of 
 thoroughbreds that were ever left without protection. " 
 
 John Burt listened with as little interruption as 
 possible while they rode down the lane. 
 
 " Now, I'll show you the finest piece of land in southern 
 Pennsylvania. One thousand acres, sir, going to ruck 
 and ruin, absolute ruck and ruin, with these women, 
 God bless 'em, standing guard over the devastation and 
 hoodooing everybody who tries to help 'em pay their 
 honest debts. " 
 
 "It seems incredible," said John Burt, "if, as you 
 say, they are intelligent and educated women. " 
 
 "They weren't educated to take care of themselves. 
 There never was a bigger-souled man on top of the earth 
 than Colonel John we all called him John, but his name 
 was John Fairfax. There wasn't anything in Franklin 
 that he couldn't have had for the asking before the war. 
 But he run his establishment on Old Virginia lines, and
 
 2O 
 
 it won't do, sir, this side of Mason and Dixon's. He 
 brought up his girls for belles. " 
 
 Mr. Burt saw even thus early in his acquaintance 
 with the Judge that his practical obduracy melted away 
 as he became reminiscent. The old man's vehement 
 objurgations of the women softened into something like 
 tenderness as he traveled backward to other times. 
 
 "Consarn them," he said, as he twitched his neck as 
 a man might who feels some kind of noose about it. 
 "You'll find out what it is to deal with women who were 
 calculated to live in another world than ours. " 
 
 " It must be an interesting family, at all events, " said 
 John Burt, there being no call for his saying anything in 
 particular. 
 
 " I calculate they're interesting enough, but there ain't 
 the first notion of the real realities anywhere inside 
 their fences. Kate Bussey, of New Kent, built that 
 house in '41. Marion Bussey, her husband, had died 
 and left her a handsome Virginia estate, three children 
 and two hundred niggers. She was an ingrained Whig, 
 and her husband had been an active locofoco of the 
 headlong Southern build. What did she do? Why, 
 sir, she freed every nigger she had, and when it got too 
 hot for her in Kent she put the estate under the hammer, 
 bundled up her traps and started with her family for 
 Pennsylvania, yes, sir, followed by about two dozen 
 niggers who wouldn't be shaken loose. I disremember 
 whether she bought the ground in '30 or '40, 
 though I drew the papers myself. She used to ride 
 down here on a gray Indian pony from Chambers and 
 overlook the work when the house was building, and it 
 warn't easy traveling in those times. Her son John 
 took after his father. But the old lady kept him well 
 in hand with his horses and dogs, and I guess he was as
 
 THE OVERSEER 21 
 
 proud of the place when it was finished as she was. 
 Well, sir, he married the handsomest girl in Baltimore, 
 one of Judge Toland's daughters. She died in '63, the 
 day after we got the news of Gettysburg. She lost two 
 brothers in that fight, sir. Her daughter Kate was 
 eleven years old at the time, and she grew up under my 
 eye from the time she was christened, and that was a 
 rousing affair in those days. We don't see the likes of 
 it down here now. The house was chock full of com- 
 pany all kinds of big guns from Harrisburg and 
 Washington, for Colonel John's mother had figgered 
 pretty large in politics. Yes, sir, we had James Buchanan 
 there. He was Secretary of State then, and looked like 
 a Methodist minister in his white neck-cloth, and Robert 
 Gree of the Supreme Court, and some of the Dallases and 
 John R. Crittenden of Kentucky. Yes, sir, and that 
 little baby was passed around and toasted in Madam's 
 wine, and everybody predicted that she would preserve 
 the traditions of her grandmother. Colonel John was 
 a staunch friend of mine, and many's the good dinner, 
 with his own Southdown mutton on the table and his 
 mother's Madeira, I've eaten in that house, when that 
 girl was old enough to sit on my knee and pull my 
 whiskers and reach her little arm up to my neck and call 
 me uncle. It's a consarned, mixed-up tangle, is this 
 life of ours, sir, and sometimes I think there isn't much 
 in it for a man when he reaches my age. " 
 
 Here the Judge, whose voice had fallen to a soft, 
 reflective tone, came to a full stop, and the men rode on 
 silently for a moment. Presently he resumed: 
 
 "What I was going to tell you was this: Just after 
 the war, the Colonel got badly mixed up in politics. I 
 don't think he. was quite abreast of the new ideas. He 
 wanted to go to Congress from this district and there was
 
 22 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 a strong Northern feeling against him. I knew he had 
 been living pretty extravagantly in Washington, but I 
 didn't know how straightened he was till he came to me 
 and said: 'Caleb,' says he, 'I've got to have money to 
 win this fight. There's a crowd of carpet-baggers at 
 Richmond that are going to down me if they can, but I 
 will not have it. I've a great mind to mortgage my 
 place.' I advised him not to think of it, but he was 
 dead set, and seeing that he was bent on it, I said 
 finally, 'Well, Colonel John, if it must be, you'd better 
 let me do it and we can keep the thing in the family.' 
 I lent him $20,000 and he was beaten at the polls. He 
 was never the same man afterward. If he had lived he 
 could have taken care of the bond, but he died suddenly 
 of pneumonia. It's six years ago, and the two girls were 
 left without a natural protector." 
 
 "Yes," said John Burt, "and you naturally supplied 
 the deficiency." 
 
 " Young man, I can honestly say before the Lord that 
 I tried my level best to do it. But what did they do but 
 send for their Aunt Sussex from Tennessee, and she is 
 one of the finest bred old antediluvians that has survived 
 the Secession flood. She began to bar and bolt every- 
 thing, and put the whole place on the defensive the 
 moment she got here. When Colonel John was lying 
 in that room in the east wing where his mother had died, 
 he said to me in his rough, hearty manner as he stretched 
 his hand out: 'Caleb, I'm afraid my mutton's cooked 
 this time for certain. If I should go off, you'll look after 
 your own interests in this estate and that's all right, but 
 I depend on you to do the best you can for them girls.' 
 'Colonel,' I said, 'you can die easy so far as that's con- 
 cerned. I can't be the father to 'em that you have been, 
 but as God is my witness I can be the next best, and if
 
 THE OVERSEER 23 
 
 you have another minute's worry on that score you'll 
 dishonour my friendship.' He squeezed my hand and 
 said he trusted me, and he died that night. " 
 
 "It seems to me," said John Burt, who felt that some 
 kind of unbiased remark ought to be interjected occa- 
 sionally, "it seems to me that you became the guardian 
 of the family, if not of the estate. " 
 
 "Yes, I calculate that I did naturally feel in that 
 position. But the estate and the family go together. 
 It's six years now this last November since Colonel John 
 died, and there hasn't been a cent of interest paid since, 
 and it's according to nature that a place will gravitate 
 to ruck and ruin unless there's a man's hand on it. Yes, 
 sir, I rather calculate that it's my duty to get the 
 interest out of the place." 
 
 "It is incredible to me, " said John Burt, " that your 
 efforts, which seem to be directed as much by a sacred 
 obligation as by self-interest, should not be understood. " 
 
 "Yes, " replied the Judge, " I s'pose 'tis I s'pose 'tis, 
 but you'll understand it better when you've been here 
 longer. There's some things a man tries all his life to 
 understand and ginerally fails. " 
 
 At this point the Judge showed an inclination to 
 abandon the subject. "I'll show you," he said, "the 
 handsomest park in this State going to ruck and ruin in 
 spite of God Almighty and common sense. " 
 
 But John Burt showed a desire to know something 
 more about the extraordinary women. 
 
 "The heiress, I understand you to say," he observed 
 with quite as much indifference as was decent, "is 
 quite as attractive as her domain. " 
 
 . "Well, sir, as to good looks, I s'pose there never was 
 two opinions in Franklin as to that. But it don't help 
 matters a bit. You can't expect a woman who has been
 
 24 THE CONQUERING OP KATE 
 
 brought up as a belle to bother much with the prac-ti-cal 
 affairs of life. Why, sir, that girl could have married a 
 fortune. We all thought things set that way at one 
 time. There was a rich Englishman came back from 
 Washington with them two years ago and stayed here 
 all summer. We all allowed it was a match, and I calcu- 
 lated everything would fix itself for all of us in the best 
 way. Then he went back to England sacked, I under- 
 stood and things settled down to where they are now 
 chains and bolts on all the doors and a fellow with a 
 shotgun in the coach-house. It makes a man of my 
 age blue. " 
 
 John Burt was a younger man and not inclined to feel 
 blue. 
 
 "Perhaps," he said, ''when the matter is presented 
 to them in the proper light by an entirely disinterested 
 person, they will see it more clearly. " 
 
 The Judge shook his head. "I guess," he said, 
 
 ' 'twill be plowing in an old crop. You'd better go your 
 
 own way, and maybe between us we can pull the thing 
 
 up somehow and do the women a good turn in spite 
 
 of 'em. " 
 
 Then the Judge shut off the subject and began point- 
 ing out the beauties of the place. 
 
 Not over half a mile north of the mansion ran the little 
 Kitchomony, the land sloping gradually to its wooded 
 edge on one side and rising more abruptly on the other 
 into a long parallel spur heavily timbered and known as 
 the Kitchomony Bluff, which, like so many of the local 
 names, seemed to have been chosen or to have grown 
 fast without much reference to exactitude. It dimin- 
 ished eastward to a mere bank where the river swept 
 abruptly round its base and went sprawling northward 
 in a broad shallow lagoon.
 
 THE OVERSEER 25 
 
 k 
 
 This long hill was a wilderness of underbrush and 
 wild flowers, with many little swales, and here and there 
 the limestone-and-shale outcropping, and covered with 
 the wild phlox and hepatica. The riders proceeded 
 leisurely along the south bank, winding through an 
 avenue dewy and mossy, until they came to a rude 
 bridge which had originally been intended for a rustic 
 structure but which had lost whatever adornment it 
 once possessed. Crossing the river and ascending the 
 hill through old winding paths, they came back west- 
 ward again to a clearing in which there were two stone 
 cabins, and a wooden shed that had evidently been used 
 at one time as a stable. It was a singularly beautiful 
 spot, with a spring bubbling from the hill and running 
 sinuously with glitter and song down the declivity to the 
 Kitchomony. Some old gums and tulips had been left 
 to bend over the cabins, and the moist earth that kept 
 the grass green had also starred it with wild flowers into 
 an inviting tapestry, across which the shadows played 
 and over which the birds sang. 
 
 The two men drew their horses up in the shade of a 
 tulip tree and sat silent a moment, as if drinking in the 
 beautiful vista and listening to the silver tinkle of the 
 rivulet. The slope lost itself in the deep greens of the 
 timber along the Kitchomony, through the openings of 
 which the river flashed here and there as with the spears 
 of a stealthy cavalcade. Beyond were the softened 
 uplands of the rise, belted with the Bussey grove, out 
 of which peeped the corner of the white mansion that 
 seemed to dip like a distant white sail as the swaying 
 branches hid or revealed it. It was all lying in a repose 
 of its own an almost Sabbath calm of beauty, and over 
 it all passed, like the breath of God, the soft sigh of the 
 summer. No man of John Burt's age could have been
 
 26 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 utterly oblivious of the romantic glamour, now part of 
 the spell. Just enough had been said to invest that 
 white spot in the distance with a little claim of human 
 interest and mystery. But being under immediate 
 obligations to be what the Judge called prac-ti-cal, 
 Mr. Burt shut off all fantasy and came resolutely back 
 to business. 
 
 "What were these cabins built for?" he asked. 
 
 "Niggers," said the Judge, who had taken off his 
 broad-brimmed hat and was leisurely fanning himself 
 with it ; "niggers. Colonel John at one time planned 
 to have their quarters here, there was so many of them 
 hanging about. That cabin just on the other side of 
 the gully is mine. You see, I bought a couple of acres 
 of him with an idea of putting in waterworks here and 
 carrying the water over to our houses. We had some 
 big ideas of improvement then. The division line 
 runs along this brook, but nobody's bothered with it 
 for ten years." 
 
 "What's the matter with my taking possession of that 
 place and putting my traps into it?" asked the prac- 
 ti-cal Mr. Burt. "There is not a more beautiful spot 
 in the world, and I'm used to camping out. There's an 
 old stable there for my horse, and I can snatch one of the 
 niggers for my man-servant. I've some instruments 
 and things, and besides, I shall be on the spot." 
 
 "There's nothing to prevent it," replied the Judge, 
 "if you care for that sort of lonesomeness. I'd take you 
 over to my house, but there's a reason that I'll explain 
 to you later why I can't." 
 
 So it came about that John Burt squatted there, as he 
 called it, and fitted up the old cabin quite luxuriously 
 for a squatter, and got hold of a nigger who was called 
 Corn, and settled down with his traps for practical work
 
 THE OVERSEER 27 
 
 where he could see the corner of that white house in the 
 soft perspective when he got up in the dewy mornings, 
 and where, as the poet expressed it so much better than 
 could John Burt : 
 
 " Where perhaps some beauty lies 
 The cynosure of neighbouring eyes." 
 
 And the Judge hurried away to Chambers as if to be 
 out of reach of any possible collisions.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 THE CRUSHING OF JOHN BURT 
 
 PENELLY SETON came over one morning with her 
 two beagles, Annie and Brush. Sylvia, who was sitting 
 on the porch trying to read "Lalla Rookh" while the 
 porch was shady and cool, knew by the hurried step of 
 her friend that she was bursting with' news. 
 
 Penelly's visits were usually accompanied by a rustle 
 of the real world outside, and her minute scraps of infor- 
 mation were unduly magnified both in her own and 
 her friend's mind. Her father's teams were continually 
 going and coming, and his agents in Harrisburg and even 
 in Philadelphia, where they made contracts for the 
 very fine building stone that he was getting out, managed 
 to keep the Tuscarora Quarries abreast of some of the 
 larger events. Besides, the little gossip herself, who 
 had her own way in everything, took occasional journeys 
 to Chambersburg to do her shopping, and she always 
 came back brimming with that kind of news which girls 
 impart to each other in secret. 
 
 She came up to the portico in quite a twitter, swinging 
 her chip hat by the strings and then fanning herself with 
 it. She looked so much like a French wax doll, with 
 her round pink face and short yellow curls, that Sylvia 
 cried to her immediately : 
 
 "Do come up out of the sun or you'll melt," and 
 springing toward her, added, "What is it?" 
 
 "Oh, you mean thing," said Penelly, dropping into a 
 
 28
 
 THE CRUSHING OF JOHN BURT 29 
 
 chair. ' 'You never said a word to me about it. Where's 
 Kate ?" 
 
 "She's out in the kitchen. Whatever is it ?" 
 
 "Kate's going to have a dressmaker in for two weeks. 
 Sue Benton saw Miss Haggerty in Chambersburg and 
 she's coming to make over four dresses." 
 
 Sylvia caught her by the two arms and looked her in 
 the eyes mysteriously. "Now don't you say one word, 
 will you ? Promise me on your honour." 
 
 "Me? Never on my sacred word." 
 
 "Kate's going to be married," dropping her voice close 
 to Penelly's ear. "Sh sh ! If you breathe a word I'll 
 never speak to you again." 
 
 Penelly caught Sylvia's hand eagerly. "For true? 
 Is it Mr. Journingham ?" 
 
 Sylvia nodded her head rapidly in an affirmative 
 way, and then looked timidly round to be sure that 
 the secret was not overheard. For a moment the two 
 girls stared at each other as if the sudden confidence 
 were too sacred for words ; then Penelly said : 
 
 "Let's go up in your room and lock the door and 
 you can tell me all about it. Is he leal and true ? " 
 
 "As if Kate would look at anything else." 
 
 "Has he really lots of money ?" 
 
 "Loads." 
 
 "Go on I'll never open my mouth." 
 
 By this time the two heads were very close together 
 and the arms were around each others' waists, and the 
 two souls were murmuring in the confidential task of 
 creating an air of mystery. But such concentration 
 could not long restrain animal impulse, and presently 
 they both jumped up and went full and fluttering up 
 the stairs into the sacred recesses of Sylvia's chamber, 
 where Penelly, once that the door was locked, said:
 
 30 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 "How is the loathsome overseer? You can hire 
 him now, can't you ?" 
 
 "We can discharge him that's better," said Sylvia. 
 
 "I should think it would be a comfort to have him 
 riding about, in pearl buttons, on that black horse. Is 
 Kate going to have anything new, or only made over ? 
 When is it to be ?" 
 
 "My dear," replied Sylvia, "you must control your- 
 self. It's awfully real this time. Oh, let's go down in 
 the sunshine." 
 
 "Did you get the berries I sent over with Flick?" 
 
 "Yes. I'll tell you what we'll do. Let's go down in 
 the kitchen and pick them over. Kate's there." 
 
 And without further ado, down they galloped to the 
 big kitchen at the northern end of the house and burst 
 in upon Kate, and Leesha, who was blowing into lamp 
 chimneys and cutting wicks. Kate was dressed for 
 walking and was putting up a small basket of 
 provisions. 
 
 "Good-morning, Pen," said Kate. "What brought 
 you over so early?" 
 
 The round pink face flushed a little, but Penelly 
 answered promptly: "Oh, I was just blue and I wanted 
 to come where there's something going on and some one 
 to talk to." 
 
 "She came to help me pick the berries," said Sylvia. 
 "Where are they? I smell them." And then the 
 two of them went poking into the big pantry with their 
 noses up like the beagles'. 
 
 Leesha lifted down from a shelf a bowl of the little 
 luscious wild berries. 
 
 "Now you jes' clar out dar under de apple tree. I 
 don' hev no mussin' roun' heah of young folks dis yar 
 mornin'."
 
 THE CRUSHING OF JOHN BURT 31 
 
 Sylvia took the bowl between her hands and, 
 followed by Penelly, went out to the bench under the 
 apple tree. 
 
 "You may give me a saucerful of them," said Kate. 
 "I'm going over to Unc'l DanTs with some knick- 
 knacks." 
 
 "Unc'l Dan'l is dun gone fired out," said Leesha. " 
 
 "What do you mean?" asked Kate, coming to a 
 ' present arms ' instantly. 
 
 "Unc'l Dan'l dun gone clar out de buckwheat fiel'." 
 
 "Do you mean that he is taken from his cabin ?" 
 
 "Dat's what I mean. De new boss tole him to git. 
 I reckon he doan waste no feelin's on an old nigger like 
 Unc'l Dan'l." 
 
 Kate added at least an inch of beautiful astonishment 
 to her stature. Her eyes came as near flashing as eyes 
 ever do. Leesha had her broad back toward her, 'not 
 caring to encounter point blank the effect of her words, 
 and was blowing heartily into a lamp chimney.' 
 
 "Moved out of his home? Who would dare to. com- 
 mit such an outrage?" 
 
 "I guess de new boss am' got no time fer ole niggers 
 nohow what take so long to die as Unc'l Dan'l." 
 
 Leesha then seized the handle of the kitchen pump 
 and made a great deal of noise with it as a defensive 
 expedient, but hearing no explosion behind her, she 
 finally turned slowly round to see Kate, erect and white, 
 with her head thrown back, staring at her. 
 
 "Who told you of this outrage ?" asked the mistress. 
 
 "Lo'd, Miss, de boys all tole it de boss forgot to tell 
 'em to keep mum." 
 
 "And they said Unc'l Dan'l's cabin was to be pulled 
 down?" 
 
 "Fo' de Lo'd, dat's what dey said."
 
 32 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 "It never shall be done if I have to defend it with 
 my own hands. Have you any lemons?" 
 
 "Lo'd o' massy, Miss, I ain't seed no lemons since 
 Syl spilt de ink on de white table-cloff." 
 
 Kate walked to the little cracked mirror that Leesha 
 kept on the pantry door and put on her hat. 
 
 "I look like a fright, Leesha, this morning don't 
 I?" she said. 
 
 Leesha gave her one quick glance of admiration and 
 replied, "Youze dat peert dis yar mornin' 'zif you was 
 de Lo'd's own appointed boss yussef." 
 
 Kate went out with her little basket, stopping at the 
 apple tree a moment to receive the berries, and Leesha, 
 looking after her, said : 
 
 "Not a nigger to tote de Miss's basket. If de new 
 boss sees her comin' dis yar mornin', he climb a tree, 
 suah, like a 'possum, fer to keep out de way dem eyes, 
 honey." 
 
 The girls looked after her as she crossed the lawn, 
 but it is doubtful if they saw how picturesque and 
 dainty she was in her old gray suit. They were thinking 
 of her in corded silk and orange blossoms. She went 
 with light, determined step through the grass of the 
 field beyond to the Kitchomony. She knew every 
 foot of the way, and in her present mood gave little 
 heed to the beauty of it. When she reached the river 
 bank she turned east into the wild path, looking through 
 the openings at the dark-brown stream in a moody way. 
 It had flowed there through all the happiest hours of 
 her life, from childhood. There was not a water-pocket, 
 a mossy bank or a slanting bole that was not associated 
 with some little event or emotion and with Unc'l 
 Dan'l. That infirm old servitor, like a faithful watch- 
 dog, had accompanied her and Sylvia in all their excur-
 
 THE CRUSHING OF JOHN BURT 33 
 
 sions. He was associated in her mind with her first 
 pony, and his shining black face had been always wait- 
 ing for her on rainy days at the door of the schoolhouse 
 and the church. She remembered how her father had 
 jocosely called him his black oracle. Once he had 
 saved her life by pulling her out of the Kitchomony 
 where it was treacherously deep, and he had suffered 
 from the rheumatism ever since. Nobody but Unc'l 
 Dan'l preserved the memories of the Grand Dame so 
 fresh and vivid. He always uncovered when her 
 name was mentioned, for it was to her that he owed his 
 liberty, and he had returned the gift by becoming a 
 lifelong slave of affection to this girl. 
 
 In her special care of this superannuated servant 
 Kate had always felt that she was executing a special 
 bequest of her father's. There were reasons why she 
 could not take him into the mansion, where her 
 supervising patronage might have been direct and 
 continuous, the chief being his obdurate and uncom- 
 promising religious fervour. He preferred his own 
 cabin, where he could wrestle with "de Lo'd" unham- 
 pered by considerations of quiet propriety, exhort his 
 coloured companions and hold prayer-meetings with 
 necessary unction. 
 
 Kate crossed the old bridge and began slowly to mount 
 the wood path at the eastern end of the bluff. It was 
 such a July morning as the summer, even in that favoured 
 region, only perfects at long intervals. The air that 
 blew across the meadows was fragrant with the sweet- 
 brier and the grape blossoms, and the leaves of the 
 aspens whispered with volubility. Half way up the 
 hill there was a ledge of shale, and she stopped there 
 a moment, placing her basket on the ground as if from 
 force of habit. Some soft white clouds were sailing
 
 34 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 low down in the east like puffs of steam, and the odorous 
 air that went by fluttered her dress gently and, I dare 
 say, hummed some old tune to her. Perhaps she was 
 thinking of that third of July some years ago when she 
 played there with her sister, and both of them listened 
 to the thunder in the southeast that rumbled all that 
 afternoon, without any intimation to them of the crisis 
 at Gettysburg. Mayhap, and more likely, she was 
 thinking of another July, when she stood there as a 
 woman and listened to Mr. Journingham telling her of 
 his passion, which had seemed as far away to her then 
 as the Battle of Gettjjsburg. 
 
 Perhaps it was something in this recollection that 
 made her set her teeth as if to keep a cry from escaping, 
 and, seizing her basket, go on up to the crest of the hill 
 with a more determined step. Once at the top, she 
 looked down the long northern incline to the buckwheat 
 field and the lagoon beyond. Then she proceeded 
 directly to the old stone hut which stood exposed against 
 the bleakest part of that hill. She found it empty and 
 deserted. Once she called "Unc'l Dan'l," but there 
 was no answer, and one glance at the interior 
 convinced her that he and his chattels had been 
 taken away. The violence and the shame of it 
 to her sensibilities made her give her eye a quick 
 wipe. It was the impulse of indignation and 
 humiliated pride. 
 
 As she stood there, Pete, the most disreputable young 
 nigger on the place, lifted himself out of a furrow in the 
 buckwheat field and shouted to her: 
 
 "Unc'l Dan'l dun gone up by de Basswood Spring. 
 De boss hyst him out, swar to Goad." 
 
 She called Pete over to her. " Where is the boss?" 
 she asked.
 
 THE CRUSHING OF JOHN BURT 35 
 
 "Drivin' de niggers in de medders, makin' canawls," 
 and Pete grinned from ear to ear. 
 
 "Take this basket and carry it to Unc'l Dan'l for 
 me," she said, "and tell him I will see him to-morrow 
 do you hear and don't you take the napkin off, or 
 I'll have Pierson tie you up and flog you. Go on I 
 have to find the boss." 
 
 As she retraced her steps vigorously it occurred to 
 her that if the boss was in the meadows on the south of 
 the bluff she could determine it from the ledge where 
 she had stood before. What was her astonishment 
 when she reached that spot to find a stranger surveying 
 the country leisurely through a field-glass, looking very 
 much like a tourist as he stood erect with one arm on the 
 
 v 
 
 trunk of a fir-tree and the other holding the glass to his 
 eyes. He was partly turned away from her, and before 
 she had considered she had addressed him : 
 
 "I beg your pardon, sir, do you know if the person 
 they call the overseer is down there in the meadows?" 
 
 He turned around, looked at her with surprise and 
 admiration, lifted his hat with an easy grace and said 
 with a pleasant smile: 
 
 "I am the person they call the overseer." 
 
 She was taken completely aback in spite of her 
 determination, but she managed to say: 
 
 "Are you Mr. " and then she stopped, for she 
 
 had forgotten the name. 
 
 "Burt John Burt," he said, "and entirely at your 
 service." 
 
 By this time she had recovered her sense of indig- 
 nation. 
 
 "I merely wish to say to you, Mr. Burt," she con- 
 tinued with admirable imperiousness, "that up to the 
 time of your intrusion here I had some authority over
 
 36 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 my own property and servants, -and my wishes were not 
 treated with contempt and violence. You have turned 
 an old and faithful friend of mine out of his quarters. 
 I wish to tell you, sir, that you are acting as if I had no 
 redress for such outrages." 
 
 John Burt listened to this speech with some bewil- 
 derment, for, whatever its injustice, it was delivered 
 with dignity and authority. 
 
 "I presume," he said, "that I am speaking to Miss 
 Bussey." 
 
 "Yes, sir. I am Miss Bussey." 
 
 "Well, Miss Bussey, if you will permit me to say so, 
 it is a very ungracious speech. When I arrived here I 
 immediately called at your house to pay my respects and 
 consult with the family as to what were your views, but 
 well-meant as were my intentions, they were completely 
 baffled, and I have been somewhat in the dark ever 
 since. My position was made very embarrassing by 
 the treatment I received at your house." 
 
 "The family, sir, did not engage your services, and I 
 should think that if you were a man of the least sensi- 
 bility you would see that they are offensive to us." 
 
 "I cannot for the life of me see why they should be 
 when they have been secured in your interests." 
 
 She saw that they were lapsing into an argument, 
 and, if given rope enough, Mr. Burt would endeavour to 
 prove that he was not a condign ruffian ; so she snapped 
 it all off, woman fashion. 
 
 " It was to convey to you my wishes and not to argue 
 with you, sir, that I sought you. If I have any authority 
 whatever left to me I shall see that you do not again 
 thrust yourself into my affairs." 
 
 With that she turned suddenly and strode down the 
 hill without paying the slightest attention to John Burt's
 
 THE CRUSHING OF JOHN BURT 37 
 
 desire to be heard. She bore herself with the conscious 
 air of one who, if she had not blocked the inevitable, 
 had at least declared what the inevitable was to expect 
 if it interfered with her. 
 
 As for John Burt, he followed her with his eyes until 
 the shrubbery hid her from view. Then he emitted a 
 long, low whistle of mingled applause and wonder, and 
 saying, "By the prophet Heckshent, she is a thor- 
 oughbred," he took up his glass and resumed the task 
 of watching the men in the meadow. 
 
 As Kate came across the lawn toward the house, 
 Leesha ran out hurriedly to meet her, the red handker- 
 chief on her head flapping about and her hands covered 
 with flour. 
 
 "What I tole you, chile, dis yar mornin', when you 
 had two spoons in your coffee. Dar's a letter upstairs 
 for you, honey." 
 
 When Aunt Sussex put the package in Kate's hands 
 and she saw the imprint on it, " Charlton Club, London," 
 she hurried to her room and tried to summon courage 
 to read it. She was not without bravery, and came at 
 it presently with a whitened face and a rather set mouth. 
 
 " CHARLTON CLUB, LONDON, June 16, 1870. 
 "Miss KATE BUSSEY. 
 
 ' ' My Dear Kate: Your welcome letter has just reached 
 me, and without waiting to collect my emotions suffi- 
 ciently to pen you a long answer, I make immediate 
 acknowledgment, deferring until later a more ample 
 expression of my feelings. It is indeed such a surprise 
 that I scarcely know how to reply. If, as your letter 
 indicates, you have changed your mind absolutely, I 
 think you might have given me some of the reasons. 
 But I need not tell you that, whatever your reasons, I
 
 38 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 am selfish enough to be overjoyed at the result. That 
 it is not a passing caprice, but the sober second thought 
 of a sincere and noble woman, is my conclusion, and, 
 in obedience to what I am pleased to regard as its 
 summons, I shall return to America the moment I 
 have settled up some of my affairs here which demand 
 my immediate attention, and which I need not tell you 
 will be expedited to the utmost of my powers. I trust 
 that nothing has happened to disturb the serene current 
 of your lives at the Catalpas, and that nothing will 
 interpose to prevent my speedy arrival to claim the 
 woman who has at last awarded my devotion and 
 sincerity and at whose feet I am ready to place my 
 fortune and my name. 
 
 " With my kindest regards to your sister and aunt and 
 a renewal of all the tender hopes which for awhile seemed 
 to perish, I remain 
 
 " Your lover and servant, 
 
 " AUGUST JOURNINGHAM. " 
 
 It is not remarkable that, bringing her wounded pride 
 and authority so directly from her experience on the 
 bluff to the reading of this letter, her first impulse 
 was one of triumph, for she said aloud, "That settles 
 Mr. John Burt, I fancy. " And then, with that delightful 
 inconsistency that makes proclamation of sex, she 
 dropped her head between her hands and, as Penelly 
 Seton would have described it, "burst into a flood of 
 passionate tears."
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 BACKWARD 
 
 JUDGE HECKSHENT in his talk with John Burt had 
 hinted at some reasons why his endeavour to carry out 
 Colonel John's wishes had not been entirely successful. 
 It is necessary to tell the reader, seeing that he did 
 not, what those reasons were, and to do it we must 
 travel backward a little. 
 
 The original Dame Bussey must have been not only a 
 masterful as well as a magnificent woman, but withal a 
 determined, unswerving partizan. Her Huguenot blood, 
 despite all the interests and associations of her Virginia 
 home in New Kent, was never quite placid in the condi- 
 tions which slavery imposed. She was an active and 
 influential Whig, and among the many who followed 
 the political career of Henry Clay with ardent hopes 
 and unmeasured affection, she was also among the few 
 who did not abate their convictions nor temper their 
 disappointment when the country relegated him 
 ungratefully, some of us thought to private life. 
 
 She was present at the Harrisburg Convention of '39, 
 at the invitation of her brother-in-law, Major Gold- 
 borough. It was said in Kent that she had gone as a 
 delegate-at-large. I think she had two strings to her 
 bow, as we used to say. Southwestern Pennsylvania at 
 that time was regarded as the promised land, and 
 although her main purpose was no doubt to throw all 
 her influence in behalf of the nomination of "Our 
 
 39
 
 40 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 Harry, " as he was fondly called, she at the same time 
 intended to use her eyes in determining for herself 
 if all that she had heard of the beauty and fertility of 
 Pennsylvania was true. 
 
 When the convention nominated William Henry 
 Harrison for President, to the surprise of the country, 
 the handsome widow was, of all the many who had 
 hoped and predicted and wagered, the most indignantly 
 disappointed. When that convention added to the 
 ticket the name of John Tyler of Virginia, the man of all 
 others in active political life for whom she had con- 
 ceived a most implacable dislike, her discomfiture, 
 and perhaps I ought to say her resentment, were 
 complete. 
 
 In a bundle of old letters written about that time and 
 in possession of the Goldborough family letters written 
 in a bold, flowing hand, but much faded and creased, and 
 each having a rent in it where the sealing wax had torn 
 the script in the unfolding I find her bewailing the fate 
 of the country and speaking her mind with regard to 
 John Tyler with a hearty antipathy that is curiously 
 like the bold, frank handwriting. 
 
 "Who is this hero of Tippecanoe, whose chief merit 
 appeareth in flagons of cider?" she writes. "Before 
 God, I think our people are bewitched, or worse, 
 besotted, with much the same ignoble potage, that 
 they turn thus from their statesman and saviour and 
 go madly forth after Baal and his prophets. " 
 
 Again she says: 
 
 "You may believe me when I tell you I know John 
 Tyler of James. If the evil influences which are beguil- 
 ing our people should continue, and by any stroke of 
 destiny he should fall into the executive chair, he will 
 sell his party and his patriotism for a mess of pottage
 
 BACKWARD 41 
 
 and widen the breach that is already opening between 
 the sections. God help our country. " 
 
 Very unreal and pallid these old flames of partizan- 
 ship appear now, as we try in vain to revive the memories 
 of the events that ignited them. Finally there is a 
 postscript to one of the old letters which reads thus: 
 
 "As for me, I am done with politics, and in some 
 measure with Virginia. If I can serve God, and indi- 
 rectly the nation, in a new country with a new home, 
 in doing my duty to those who are to come after me, 
 I shall be content. " 
 
 She was as good as her word. She shook the dust of 
 Virginia and of politics from her skirts and came into 
 Franklin, scrip and scrippage, to put in the foundations 
 of Catalpa Grange, set up her family altar, and impress 
 her character so deeply on all the vicinage that you can 
 to this day gather pleasant and loyal memories of her 
 her sturdy virtues and her ample patrimony anywhere 
 along the foot of the Great Range. 
 
 Among those who came with her from Harrisburg to 
 Chambersburg was a young lawyer, a prote'ge' of hers 
 who, from a poor student, had grown into her favour, 
 reaped the benefit of her service, and was already her 
 factotum and secretary. He served her with patient 
 integrity, and she began to push him into prominence 
 among her friends. It was during this early service 
 that young Heckshent committed the mistake of his 
 life, the consequences of which were to knit themselves 
 into the after events which make this simple story. In 
 a moment of youthful hallucination he became bewitched 
 by a black-eyed girl from the Tennessee Mountains and, 
 before his better judgment could come to his rescue, had 
 married her. It was all done quickly and secretly, but 
 once done there was something of an acknowledgment
 
 42 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 of his folly in immediately resigning from the 
 service of his mistress. He walked in upon her 
 one morning, crestfallen to inform her of what he 
 had done. She studied him placidly and somewhat 
 pityingly. 
 
 "So you have made up your mind to desert me," she 
 said. "Do I deserve it?" 
 
 " No, you do not ; but I might as well forestall your 
 opinion of me." 
 
 " Have you robbed me or are you tired of me ?" 
 
 " No, I think I am incapable of robbing you, but I 
 have married Molly Hornbolt." 
 
 She stared at him with astonishment. " Molly Horn- 
 bolt," she said incredulously. "Have you lost your 
 wits?" 
 
 "She is my wife," he replied. "I have no intention 
 of dodging the duty it implies." 
 
 Then she gave way to her irritation and reproaches. 
 
 "Young man," she said, "you had your race marked 
 out and the course cleared for you. Will you tell me 
 why you hanged a millstone round your neck and 
 such a millstone?" 
 
 "Madam," he rejoined with a meek doggedness, "I 
 may not always know what is to my interest, but I 
 have a very clear perception of what is my duty. She 
 is my wife." 
 
 "Yes, surely. But you cannot expect me to stand 
 to it. Merciful heavens, man, and I had opened the 
 way for you among my own people ! There was nothing 
 you might not have had in this new country. Well, 
 well, we all make mistakes. Mine was perhaps as great 
 as yours. Molly Hornbolt ! Heaven save us ! What 
 am I to do with Molly Hornbolt?" 
 
 "Nothing, madam. I came to thank you for what
 
 BACKWARD 43 
 
 you have done. I do not expect you to do anything 
 more. I have my own fight to make." 
 
 "And a nice fight you will make of it, judging from 
 your start." 
 
 He sat in front of her not unlike a reprimanded 
 servant. His gaunt young face wore that pathos of 
 weakness that both maddens and softens the observer. 
 She remembered his patient fidelity and loyalty. She 
 pitied and almost despised him at the same time. 
 
 "Go," she said imperiously, "and bring your wife 
 here, that I may look at her." 
 
 He made an involuntary gesture of protest, for the 
 command seemed to imply some kind of vengeance, but 
 she repeated it, and even held the door open for him and 
 pointed him out. 
 
 With respect to that meeting of the bride in red 
 ribbons with the Lady of the Manor, I can only piece 
 out the hearsay scraps of tradition with a reasonable 
 imagination. Molly was not at all overawed by the 
 Dame. She had herself just achieved what was to a 
 girl of her capacity and breeding a supreme personal 
 triumph. She had no veneration in her make-up, and 
 she was inclined to regard the Dame as rather overdone 
 in her majestic airs and too self-confident in her patron- 
 age. The marriage had been a concession on Molly's 
 part. She could have done better. She only had to 
 pick and choose. " Good Lord," she said to her husband 
 afterward, "the old hen looked as if you ought to be 
 sick of your bargain already." 
 
 Dame Bussey saw only the possible future of the 
 young lawyer. Her pity may have been a prophetic 
 intuition. It very often is with such women. When 
 she was alone with him, she said : 
 
 "Young man, accidents will happen to all of us in
 
 44. THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 this life. I suppose the best we can do is to stand up 
 to them with stout hearts when they are not fatal. I 
 will pray that your life will be long enough to retrieve 
 your error. You go and pray that mine will be long 
 enough to help you." 
 
 And thus it was that the noble lady set herself to the 
 task of lightening her protegees burden by bearing a 
 little of it herself, as she kept her teeth clenched and 
 assisted him with many silent favours to stand manfully 
 to the bargain he had made. She never ceased to use 
 her influence to advance his interests and to make known 
 in various devious ways what she believed to be his 
 sterling qualities, [and so long as the Dame lived, Mrs. 
 Heckshent, despite every natural disadvantage that 
 developed most disagreeably with time, was treated 
 by the families in Franklin with guarded respect and 
 reticent recognition. When the Grange was completed 
 and there was a jolly old-fashioned house-warming with 
 many old-school magnates there, who still swore by 
 "Our Harry" and who buried the sectional hatchets 
 in the Dame's Madeira, Mrs. Heckshent was there with 
 the baby, and the hostess insisted that a sacrament 
 would add grace to hospitality, and had old Father 
 Capers there to do the christening and pass the Heck- 
 shent heir around in long lace clothes to be chucked 
 under the chin by the magnates and have his pink health 
 drunk. She had him named Folingsby, after some 
 Huguenot ancestor of hers. Unc'l Dan'l has told me 
 that Mrs. Heckshent, who sat around somewhat sullenly 
 while the "big bugs" made merry, resented the name, 
 for she had "sot " her mind on calling the boy " Monk, " 
 after some distinguished moonshiner in her own family. 
 But the Judge put it down in his family Bible in red 
 ink triumphantly, not so much as a record, but as if it
 
 BACKWARD 45 
 
 promised to be a blessed erasure of much that had been 
 growing ominous. I have seen the two memoranda in 
 the old Bible, one of a marriage and the other of a birth, 
 both written by the Judge's hand, and looking at them 
 as I did with the subsequent history of the family in my 
 mind, you can imagine what a commiserating sense 
 of the futility of human hopes came over me. The 
 baby Folingsby did indeed open all the springs of affec- 
 tion that had run dry in the Judge's heart, and it was 
 very beautiful to see how the Dame nursed and watched 
 and by every means in her power added to those new 
 rivulets of affection. She believed that this little 
 arrival could be made to close up the dire gap in the 
 Heckshent family. His coming she herself had made 
 into a festive link between the old regime and the new. 
 Major Goldborough has told me of that christening, 
 and he says that when those stalwarts stood around the 
 Dame's mahogany and drank to "Our Harry" a 
 pink spot came into her cheek where " Our Harry of the 
 West" had once kissed her, and that she lifted her glass 
 and tossed off her wine with the best of them. Those 
 were lusty times at the Catalpas. What with his young 
 wife,, his hounds, his harriers and his horses, Colonel 
 John must have had a fine time of it. There were deer 
 then on the confines of the estate, so that the slopes and 
 ledges which have since become the Tuscarora Quarries 
 must have echoed at times like the olden greenwoods 
 of England to the horn and halloo. Nor was the pas- 
 toral side of it a whit less delightful. The fecund acres 
 teemed and the cattle thrived and the granaries were 
 full. Nature welcomed the family with open arms, 
 and Colonel John's daughters may be said to have come 
 into a world where everything glittered with promise 
 and exulted in beauty. Little Kate herself was an
 
 46 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 event of promise. The very name implied the succession. 
 John Randolph of Roanoke had said in his old age " there 
 never can be but one Kate Bussey," and Colonel John 
 had reminded his mother of it when his daughter was 
 born. Whereupon, remembering only that John 
 Randolph had quarreled with Henry Clay and, as she 
 phrased it, had tried to take his life, the sturdy dame 
 instantly replied: "John Randolph always was a liar, 
 and now I have the opportunity of proving it. This 
 chit shall be the second Kate." 
 
 Then, I dare .say, they set to work most assiduously 
 with love and indulgence to utterly spoil the chit. This 
 much is certain, no royal scion ever came up through 
 babyhood to domestic regnancy surrounded by more 
 exacting obligations to preserve the succession. To 
 Miss Kate the Catalpas was her principality, and every- 
 body thought it a duty to wear some kind of prospective 
 obedience. Can you wonder that this beautiful girl 
 with a Madonna face and a gentle dignity of demeanour 
 had all that was most precious in her young life inextri- 
 cably interwoven with the scenes and associations of that 
 small part of the wide world ? She grew to be one of its 
 flowering products. There had never been any break 
 in the assured serenity of the domain. It would be very 
 beautiful to tell the story entirely from the point of view 
 of that girl's young hopes and dreams, but that cannot 
 be. Kate's mother died when her eldest daughter was 
 eleven years old, and her youngest only nine. That 
 event, however poignant to the children, could not have 
 worn the import of the grandmother's death two months 
 later. One loss was a silent and inscrutable deprivation 
 of love. The other was made a memorable event by 
 the fact that the entire neighbourhood seemed to stand 
 stricken on account of it. I suspect that the Civil War,
 
 BACKWARD 47 
 
 then at its height, hastened the Dame's end. She 
 regarded it, as did many others, as the extinction in 
 blood and hatred of old traditions and glories. So 
 impatient was she to get the news of every battle, and 
 so isolated was she at the Grange, that she went to 
 Chambersburg to be in touch with the crisis. She 
 probably allowed her impatience to overcome her 
 discretion and neglected many of her usual precautions. 
 At all events, she contracted a severe cold which 
 developed into pleurisy. They brought her home, 
 and she died in the big chamber in the east wing, 
 retaining all her faculties until she fell asleep with her 
 hand resting, as if with a last conveyance, on the head of 
 little Kate. Then it was that the muffled bell of the 
 little church at Bourgeonville sounded the close of a 
 happy era at the Grange. Events after that appeared 
 to lose their conserving tendency and to be without 
 a compelling centre. Kate and Sylvia were sent South 
 to their Aunt Toland's, to school. When Kate returned a 
 young lady Nature alone had waited for her in unchang- 
 ing mood. Events had been moving. The pleasaunces, 
 green and flower strewn, remained as she had always 
 known them, and the Kitchomony dimpled through its 
 banks and coverts with an old welcome. 
 
 It might be interesting and even psychologic to trace, 
 if possible, the first awakening of our innocent optimist 
 to the fact that there were some things in the bounteous 
 plan of beauty that ought not to be. Perhaps young 
 Folingsby was the first intimation of it. But Folingsby 
 was as incapable of understanding it as the girl herself. 
 Something had intervened. He was kept at a new dis- 
 tance by invisible arms. There are some years here 
 in which the girls stood upon the edge of womanhood 
 in a dream life, but, as I have said, events do not sleep.
 
 48 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 In the fall of '66, Colonel John, perhaps a little ennuied 
 with retirement, went to Washington and plunged 
 recklessly into politics at a time when the reconstruction 
 schemes were already promising to make the air blue. 
 With very little knowledge of the conservative temper 
 of his district, and with perhaps not the best record to 
 make an appeal to it, he stood for a seat in the Lower 
 House, as they phrased it in Virginia. Full of ardent 
 hopes and beguiled by siren politicians, he borrowed 
 twenty thousand dollars of Judge Heckshent and set out 
 to stump Franklin. It was all done against the kindly 
 protest of his old adviser, whose weak will always gave 
 way to the Colonel's overbearing and sanguine disposi- 
 tion. The overwhelming defeat that the Colonel suffered 
 was especially cruel, inasmuch as he suspected when it 
 was all over that he had been made the catspaw of 
 unscrupulous men. The strain, the excitement and 
 the disappointment of the campaign were too much for 
 him, for he at no time had the discretion of his mother. 
 When the Dame had died, Leesha nailed up three 
 horseshoes over the kitchen door. "Never," she said, 
 "one death in a Bussey family always three. Lo'd 
 bress your heart, honey, deh might be six if yo' ole 
 Mammy hadn' break de charm." When the Colonel 
 was brought home to die with the pleurisy in the big 
 chamber in the east wing, and the sad event was whis- 
 pered through the house, Leesha pointed to the three 
 horseshoes and said: "Dat's de end of 'em, suah." 
 
 This event hushed all the resonance and promise of 
 the Grange. The lusty and domineering voice of the 
 Colonel no longer awoke any cheerful echoes. The 
 women of the household slipped about noiselessly, 
 somewhat bewildered by the state of affairs. When 
 the estate came to be settled up it was found to be in
 
 BACKWARD 49 
 
 pretty bad shape, and the Judge himself saw no clear 
 way out of the dilemma except by the sale of the prop- 
 erty or the marriage of Kate. It was in this condition 
 of affairs that Aunt Sussex was sent for; an overseer 
 was appointed by the Court ; and Kate wrote her letter 
 to Mr. Journingham. The arrival of Aunt Sussex, 
 instead of bringing any relief, only served to make the 
 situation more acute. She would not tolerate Mrs. 
 Heckshent, and barely treated the Judge with the cour- 
 tesy his position demanded. She resented the relation- 
 ship of the families, which had become that of creditor 
 and debtor. In some obscure way of her own she 
 regarded the Judge as a presuming misfortune. He did 
 not understand that the Busseys had always claimed 
 the right to be in debt without dishonour. Her presence 
 on the scene served only to aggravate the tongue and 
 the temper of Mrs. Heckshent, who took every occasion 
 to jibe her son with taunts of his imbecility and to poison 
 his mind with hints that his father was playing into the 
 hands of the Busseys without a thought of his wife 
 or son. 
 
 What Folingsby would have been had the Dame lived 
 ten years longer, who can tell. He grew apace into 
 a black-eyed, nervous, sharp-faced lad, doing pretty 
 much as he pleased, choosing his companions at the 
 Quarries and running about the county in a generally 
 profligate way. But the Dame having died, there was 
 no one capable of interfering with the free course of the 
 inevitable on its way to the immovable. Folingsby 
 inherited the nature and character of his mother. He 
 was called in the village "a bad egg," but that opinion 
 was generally expressed when his father was not within 
 hearing. Mr. and Mrs. Heckshent, thrown together by 
 some tropic impulse, nevertheless grew apart in spite
 
 S o THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 of all the compromises and adjustments of matrimony. 
 So literally true was this, and so obvious, that it would 
 really seem that Nature even among human beings 
 insists upon her law of species and punishes its violation 
 with hybrids. The Judge, thrown into the society of 
 the best men and women that Franklin produced, 
 everywhere regarded with respect and .honoured for 
 his homely but sterling character, was in honour tied to 
 a woman whose character, whose very nature, had to be 
 kept in social seclusion and indulgently guarded a 
 process which she resented and perverted. All that was 
 ignoble in her inheritances curiously enough appears to 
 have been brought into activity as she saw her husband 
 trying to cover with systematic kindness the increasing 
 gap between them. The very nobility of reticence and 
 protection with which he stood to his ill-advised choice 
 to the end of his life with closed lips was in itself to her 
 an aggravating superiority. Every safeguard and 
 incentive that the father's idolatry and indulgence had 
 provided for the boy was unavailing against the ignoble 
 predisposition furnished by alien forebears. Folingsby 
 came in devious ways to the edge of manhood with a 
 belief carefully nurtured by his mother that Miss Kate 
 Bussey was somehow his perquisite. The estate was 
 sure to belong to the Heckshents and the girl went with 
 it. "It was as plain as pot-cheese," she said, "that 
 Miss Kate Bussey could not remain mistress of the 
 Grange unless she married Fol." Such had been the 
 intention of the grandmother, and it was Mrs. 
 Heckshent's purpose to see that the grand- 
 mother's intention was carried out. This had 
 been poured into Folingsby 's ears on all sly 
 occasions, sometimes coupled with the Tennessee 
 taunt that "if he hadn't been a skinned rabbit
 
 BACKWARD 51 
 
 like his old man he'd been makin' up to the girl long 
 ago and been 'pinted overseer. " 
 
 As soon as Aunt Sussex became aware of Mrs. Heck- 
 shent's purpose, and had become sufficiently disgusted 
 by the many excuses Folingsby made to get over to the 
 Grange and pose himself as a young beau, she took her 
 course. She whisked the girls off to Baltimore, where 
 she said they could be among their own kind. They 
 spent the festive months between that city and Wash- 
 ington, and I can well imagine that the young beauty, 
 touched with an air of romance as the future mistress 
 of the Catalpas, and supervised by so shrewd an aunt, 
 soon attracted many admirers. Among the many who 
 felt her spell was an Englishman on a visit to America 
 and a guest at the house of one of the members of the 
 Embassy. I gather from all the accounts that Mr. 
 Journingham came well accredited and preserved the 
 air of a well-to-do Briton. At all events, the two aunts 
 must have regarded him as an available prize, for when 
 Aunt Sussex went back to the Grange the Tolands went 
 with her and took Mr. Journingham as a guest. I find 
 that it was in the spring, and they remained there until 
 late July, so that Mr. Journingham all through the 
 bewitching season must have added to the privileges of 
 a guest the softer rights of a lover. But I cannot find 
 that Kate at any time gave the slightest indication that 
 she thought enough of Mr. Journingham to marry him. 
 Indeed, what records of that summer remain lead me to 
 suspect that she stood out rather stubbornly, but with a 
 girl's frolicsome disobedience, against all the schemes 
 of the two aunts ; and having a volatile coadjutor in her 
 sister Sylvia, I am led to believe that she treated Mr. 
 Journingham as a convenient and respected guest, 
 availing herself of his company and his personal prestige
 
 5 2 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 without committing herself to his sentiment or making 
 up her mind that she could marry him, and when finally 
 he went away in July and it was understood that Kate 
 had declined his proposal, the aunts did not speak to her 
 for a week, and when Mrs. Toland went home in high 
 dudgeon she even executed the superfluous symbolism 
 of shaking the dust of the Grange from her skirts as she 
 stepped into her carriage. Then came the dreamy fall 
 when the sisters wandered together pensively through 
 the golden trees, probably not at all lonesome. There 
 must have been confidences and sympathies altogether 
 too fine to be carried over into any such bald record as 
 this. I suspect that the younger sister comforted the 
 elder with her generous naivete and shot her conclusions 
 bluntly, as was her wont. I can imagine her saying 
 when they were out of hearing: "If you are going to 
 wear a crushed air of being punished, I am not. I think 
 you did perfectly right, and I am proud of you. Aunt 
 Sussex is a dear old relic, and when it comes to laying 
 down my life for her I suppose I can squeeze myself to 
 the proper self-sacrifice. But when she sets out to 
 instruct us that there isn't anything in this glorious world 
 for you and me, dear, unless we marry it, I feel like a 
 mule there and I hope you do. " 
 
 I do not think that either of the sisters during those 
 pleasant months ever for one moment regarded Folingsby 
 as a possible suitor, and yet it must have dawned upon 
 them sooner or later that his visits began to assume 
 serious airs. They were inclined to treat him as a boyish 
 acquaintance of former times, and he very soon began 
 to resent it with rather absurd pretentions of manhood. 
 The distance between the rise and the Heckshent house 
 was probably not much more than a thousand feet. 
 Folingsby had often stretched his kite strings across it
 
 BACKWARD 53 
 
 and dropped boyish messages on the terrace. But now 
 it had widened, and some kind of impalpable antag- 
 onisms lurked between. Sometime after Kate had 
 received her letter from Mr. Journingham, young 
 Folingsby rode up to the entranceway of his father's 
 garden one morning on a spirited horse and sat there 
 in front of the gate looking dreamingly across to the 
 Bussey woods through which the white house on the rise 
 gleamed in the morning sun. His mother, in a flaring 
 sunbonnet and ample check apron, was watering her 
 sweet peas in the garden, and she looked at him with 
 furtive admiration. Folingsby drew his horse's head 
 up to the paling and called to his mother with un- 
 decorous familiarity across the fence. " The new man's 
 here. Maybe you seen him," he said. 
 
 "Yes," she replied carelessly; "I seen him galloping 
 past looked 'sif he owned the place already, but he 
 didn't hev no eyes for me. " 
 
 "Old man had him 'pinted by the Courts," said her 
 son. 
 
 "Whatfer?" asked the mother, making a dash at the 
 sweet peas with her sprinkler. "Seems ID me you're 
 extra greased up this mornin'. What be you up to?" 
 
 "Goin' to see a lady, old woman. Heave me a posy 
 for me coat." 
 
 " Posies won't help you much, " she said. " What you 
 want is sand in your crop, then you'd be the overseer 
 by rights." 
 
 "Oh, I ain't such poor trash as you take me. Wait 
 till I get a show. " 
 
 His mother looked out of the depths of her bonnet 
 with a cloudy contempt. 
 
 "She'll twist you round her finger like she does yer 
 old man," she said. "It'll be honeyfugling and soft-
 
 54 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 sawderin' and law courts and bo win' and scrapin' till 
 what's coming to ye is come to better hands. Maybe 
 you ain't such poor trash, but leastways we're all treated 
 as if we was. Be you goin' up to talk turkey?" 
 
 " I just be. Don't you get bilious, but leave it to me. 
 I'm going to tackle her plum straight. Don't break 
 loose till I get through. " 
 
 He caught a bunch of the flowers that she tossed to 
 him, fixed it in his buttonhole, let his horse cavort for a 
 moment, and then, striking him on the flank with the 
 thin rattan cane that he carried, he started off up the 
 road, turning once in the saddle to shout back to her: 
 "Keep your dander down. I ain't such a gosling with 
 women." 
 
 And with that he presently turned in at the Bussey 
 woods and rode slowly up the rise. Thus it was that 
 on that beautiful morning the boy sweetheart of the old 
 Grange came jauntily up to the Bussey veranda bring- 
 ing with him unwittingly the unmeasurable antagonisms 
 of character which had been growing while all else had 
 remained abeyant in the domain of beauty. Kate 
 looked surprisingly beautiful as she sat there in her plain 
 white dress in pensive attitude, and the moment Folings- 
 by opened his mouth with what was meant to be the 
 familiarity of old times the tones of his voice must have 
 jarred a little upon the girl, who at that moment, like 
 the roses about her, was an unconscious expression of a 
 sacred demesne into which the implications of those 
 tones had never entered. 
 
 Seeing her startled look, he called to her assuringly : 
 
 "Don't run away, Kate. I want to talk to you." 
 
 The betrayal of deliberate purpose in his visit was not 
 
 calculated to disarm her trepidation, but she met it with 
 
 a colourless "Good-morning, Mr. Heckshent, " and he
 
 BACKWARD 55 
 
 came up the steps and sat down close beside her, which 
 made her involuntarily move her chair a little away. 
 Whereupon he instantly widened the distance between 
 them in an absurd effort to close the breach. 
 
 "Don't be skittish, " he said. "I came up to tell you 
 that I have reformed. I haven't drank anything in a 
 week." 
 
 Something in the girl's shrinking look must have told 
 him that he had begun feet foremost, for he immediately 
 added : 
 
 "I didn't mean exactly that. You've heard a lot of 
 things about me, and most of 'em pretty tough, I'll allow, 
 but I've sworn off for good. A fellow has to, sometimes, 
 and I thought I might as well begin now. We can under- 
 stand each other better." 
 
 At this Kate got up. "Mr. Heckshent," she said, 
 "I think you are making a mistake. I have not 
 followed your habits closely enough to be interested in 
 them." 
 
 He looked at her with undisguised admiration as she 
 stood there in an attitude of shrinking disdain, one 
 hand sweeping the folds of her white dress away from 
 him, as if instinctively to protect it from contact. He 
 had seen the heroine in the play at Chambersburg do 
 this inimitably, but not so spontaneously, when the 
 villain made his advances, but the only application that 
 Folingsby made of the reminder was to see in the girl 
 before him something of the same ideal that had looked 
 out of the stage romance. "Yes," he was saying to 
 himself, "by the hokey, she's the kind of girl you read 
 about. How she has changed." What he said to her 
 was this: 
 
 "Well, you don't have to go off in a tantrum, do you? 
 I guess I've followed you for ten years a good deal closer
 
 56 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 than any other man in this county, and I've a right to 
 be treated fair." 
 
 That seemed to nerve her a little. Her beautiful 
 mouth took on, so far as such a mouth could, a line of 
 rigidity. She dropped her skirt and sat down again. 
 
 "Very well, Mr. Heckshent, I will treat you fairly. 
 Go on." 
 
 Then she looked quickly and anxiously toward the 
 south of the house, as if a little prayer had gone off that 
 way that Sylvia would come up and end this business. 
 
 Folingsby did not wince as he should have done under 
 such chilly complaisance. He floundered on. 
 
 "Kate," he said, "I know as well as you do that I 
 haven't done the right thing. But give a fellow a chance. 
 I'm a different man from this on. If I hadn't made up 
 my mind to it, I wouldn't have the cheek to come and 
 talk to you, though it's to the interest of our families." 
 
 He waited a moment. "Go on," said Kate, with a 
 frosty civility. 
 
 "You are not in a good humour this morning," he 
 continued, "and that makes it uncomfortable. But 
 anyway, I don't see why old friends can't be reasonable 
 and fix things up. What's the good of our beating 
 round the bush?" 
 
 "I am not beating round the bush, Mr. Heckshent," 
 said his companion with growing congealment. There 
 was an awkward pause for a moment. Then he stumbled 
 on: 
 
 " Gee whilikens ! " he said. " How you have changed ! " 
 
 "Did you have to come here this morning, Mr. Heck- 
 shent, to tell me how unlike we are?" 
 
 "Oh, I guess there ain't such a wide difference. We 
 were both born hereabouts. I remember hearing your 
 father tell mine that we had all galloped up in the same
 
 BACKWARD 57 
 
 paddock, and that was when there were fences between 
 your estate and ours. They're mostly down now. 
 You treat me as if we'd moved into another county. 
 It ain't fair to either family, now we're grown up and 
 sensible, and that's what I wanted to say to you. We 
 might fix matters easy enough, and we ought to do it. 
 Leastways, I allowed it was manlike and neighbourly to 
 come and say so." 
 
 "I wish, Mr. Heckshent, " said Kate, "that you would 
 tell me what you think it is we ought to do. " 
 
 "Just as if you didn't know, and it hadn't all set that 
 way from the start. It wouldn't be such a blamed 
 hardship, would it now, to keep the Catalpas in the 
 family?" 
 
 "There are some hardships, Mr. Heckshent, that I 
 fancy would be worse than losing the estate. " 
 
 "Say, that's pretty mean, ain't it, when I have just 
 told you that I've started in to make a man of myself?" 
 
 "And I told you," said Kate, "that whether you had 
 or had not was not of sufficient importance to me to 
 enlist my interest. " 
 
 The cruelty of such an answer depends less upon the 
 poignancy of the tongue that utters it than upon the 
 sensibility of the person who is pierced. Folingsby did 
 not writhe; he resented. But such opposing bitterness 
 as he was capable of was flaccid and compromising in 
 the near presence of the white figure, so close that he 
 could have reached out his arm and encircled it, as he 
 had done many a time when they were children without 
 then knowing how precious was the privilege. His 
 resentment at this stage of the conversation was baffled 
 and sullen, but ready to go down on its marrow-bones 
 at the slightest hint. That his old playmate could at 
 that distance interpose some kind of impassable chasm,
 
 5 8 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 and calmly freeze him in his every attempt to cross it, 
 was not quite comprehensible or even manageable 
 with his order of faculties. There she sat, in her old 
 white dress, so close that he could see where it had 
 been scrupulously mended, and the solitary marguerite 
 that she wore on her breast showed only the yellow 
 corolla like a modest gold button. Whether it was a 
 touch of magnanimity or only a dull spasm of shame, 
 who can tell, but as he looked at her he fingered the 
 posies in his coat and, pulling them out, dropped them 
 on the porch between his feet. 
 
 Presently he said, with something like a sigh, as he 
 threw himself back in his chair and whipped his trousers 
 with his rattan: 
 
 "I don't see what I have ever done to you that you 
 should treat me so infernally mean when I am trying 
 to do my best. You act as if you didn't want to have 
 anything to do with me. " 
 
 There was a slight tone of appeal in his last sentence, 
 but her answer met it with the relentless candour of 
 uncompromising superiority. 
 
 "Just as little as possible, Mr. Heckshent as is con- 
 sistent with my respect for your father. " 
 
 Then at last he was fairly stung. A gleam of the 
 Hornbolt inheritance leaped into the corner of his 
 black eye as he sprang up. 
 
 "How about my mother?" he said. "She's running 
 things hereabouts, pretty much." 
 
 To this significant brutality that had leapt from him 
 before he was aware there could be but one possible 
 answer from the woman who was a granddaughter of 
 Kate Bussey of the Catalpas. 
 
 She stood up and faced him a moment, then, seizing 
 the album as if it were not safe to leave it behind, she
 
 BACKWARD 59 
 
 made a superb bow and swept into the house, leaving 
 him there calling to her to come back. 
 
 It did not occur to this young man that he was imitat- 
 ing, in a very feeble way, the well-to-do villain in the 
 play. He was mainly occupied for some time in trying 
 to realize that some kind of inscrutable barrier had 
 risen up between his desires and their accomplishment. 
 He mounted his horse, and without letting his mother 
 know, in a fit of dumb desperation rode off to the 
 Tuscarora Quarries and spent three days in a reckless 
 debauch at one of the outlying boarding-houses. Once 
 on the way out he got off his horse and sat down in a 
 secluded spot in what was known as the Witch's Run, 
 and while his animal nibbled at the wild grass, held his 
 head between his hands in a futile retrospect, trying to 
 assure himself that what had taken place on the Bussey 
 porch was final. That he came to some such conclusion 
 was evident by his exclamation as he got up and caught 
 his horse. 
 
 "Sacked by gum!" he said, giving his bridle a 
 vicious jerk. 
 
 Three days later he appeared at his home with 
 shadows under his eyes, a slight hoarseness in his voice 
 and one or two scratches on his cheek. His mother 
 looked him over with quick appraisement. 
 
 "Had anything to straighten you this morning?" 
 
 "No," he replied gruffly, as he shied his hat into a 
 corner of the sitting-room where there was a lounge, 
 and sat down in a chair with his legs stretched out like a 
 pair of skids. " Where'd I get anything this morning?" 
 
 She went out and presently returned with a tumbler 
 containing some kind of liquor. He took it eagerly 
 and drank it off, his mother standing by and waiting 
 for the glass.
 
 60 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 "You went to the Grange before you went to the 
 Rock Yard?" she asked. 
 
 "You've got it right," he said. "I did it." 
 
 She regarded him a moment with more anger than 
 pity. 
 
 "You're a fool," she said. 
 
 "That's what I said myself. Who made a fool of 
 me?" 
 
 "Was she sassy?" 
 
 "She was peert. She left me standing on her porch 
 talking to myself. She's got no use for me. " 
 
 He said this with such a blubbery kind of resignation 
 that his mother's black eyes snapped. It was a pecu- 
 liarity of hers, as it is of many of her sex similarly 
 compounded and limited, that when her emotions were 
 excited they, for want of a sufficient nervous conduit, 
 expressed themselves in part along her muscles. Mental 
 perturbation ran invariably into fussy domestic activity. 
 She seized a broom which was always standing some- 
 where convenient and began to sweep. 
 
 "Has the new man set in to cut out the timber in 
 front?" she asked as she began to make a dust. 
 
 "What's he want to cut the timber out in front for?" 
 
 "He don't. It's me. I'll take the house down over 
 her head. You'd better make up with her before she's 
 plowed under." 
 
 Her son regarded her with some interest. He shook 
 his head negatively, but it was meant to stimulate her. 
 
 "She ain't the kind that's plowed under," he said. 
 "You hain't seen her lately." 
 
 " You're af eared of her like the old man. She'd twist 
 the whole family round her finger if it warn't for me." 
 
 When this pair were foot-loose in their secret affinities 
 and the Judge was "to Chambers," their vocabulary had
 
 BACKWARD 61 
 
 a tendency to sink to the easy levels of the mother's 
 original clan. This was especially the case with the 
 mother, although the son took up the scent very much 
 as a terrier yaps after the foxhound. 
 
 "I offered to let her twist me," said Folingsby, "but 
 she 'lowed she warn't marrying, at least my kind. 
 What do you want to kick up such a blessed dust for?" 
 
 "Your kind, hey? And she ain't marryin'. Mebbe 
 she's settin' in for starvin'. She can't live on her airs, 
 can she?" 
 
 "Well, it wouldn't be safe to kidnap her. She'd fight 
 like a painter. What would you do, old woman?" 
 
 "Mebbe I'd run the place if I was the Judge's son. 
 Who'll hev it in the long run ? You ought to be gettin' 
 your hand in, and you'd been the superintendent afore 
 now if you warn't a skinned rabbit." 
 
 Mrs. Heckshent was now standing on a chair, rubbing 
 the top of a high old-fashioned mantel lustily with a 
 cloth. As she uttered her words she set her teeth and 
 seemed to be planing off the top of that mantel. 
 
 ' ' She can squat on her porch and turn up her nose at 
 us, 'cause there ain't a man in my house, and I a-workin' 
 my fingers off and payin' my debts like an honest 
 woman, who can't hev what's comin' to her, nor you 
 neither." 
 
 Folingsby was not such a traditional dolt as to suppose 
 that Kate Bussey could be coerced by his mother's 
 tactics into even tolerant treatment of him. He had 
 obtained a new view of the young lady in his interview 
 with her, and she was now invested with what to most 
 men is the highest stimulative of charms an unattain- 
 able superiority. But this conversation with his 
 mother made his case, in spite of his good sense, look 
 a little less hopeless. He knew well enough that his
 
 62 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 mother was not a lady, in the quiet estimation of his 
 father's friends, but he was enough like his mother to 
 believe that such a conclusion was in some way his 
 father's fault, not his mother's, just as his recent 
 debauch was Kate Bussey's fault. Nevertheless, he 
 knew enough of the character of both his parents to see 
 that his mother would probably have her way as she 
 had had it so often before, and he felt a strong inclina- 
 tion to exhibit his advantages to the Busseys. After 
 all, they were helpless, and it was a good opportunity to 
 retaliate for Kate's treatment of him, by putting on 
 a few airs of patronage himself. Besides (and here 
 was no doubt the real animus), the new picture of the 
 woman in the white dress had seized upon him with 
 ineradicable persistency. 
 
 He mooned about for a day or two and found himself 
 wandering aimlessly in the Bussey timber, like a satyr, 
 peering from behind beech trunks in the direction of 
 the house, as if to reassure himself by some possible 
 reappearanqe of the white dress that what he had 
 experienced was not a dream. Then, in one of his 
 more desperate moods, he walked the road around 
 the mansion one day, trying to look like a prospective 
 proprietor, poking the stained clapboards with his 
 rattan, stooping down to examine the foundation, and 
 whistling carelessly so that if there was an open sash 
 somebody would understand that, however inevitable 
 fate might be, he at least was not above amicable 
 relations. In this walk he was almost upset by Sylvia, 
 who came upon him suddenly round the corner of 
 the house. 
 
 "Goodness sakes, Mr. Heckshent," she exclaimed, 
 "how you scared me! Whatever are you doing?" 
 
 "I was just taking a look over the place to see what
 
 BACKWARD 63 
 
 the superintendent is up to. He is going to cut down 
 the trees and plow up the terraces, and I just wanted 
 to see if he had begun and how it looked. It's too bad, 
 but I s'pose it must be done." 
 
 This portentous irony reversed itself in the passage 
 to Sylvia's ears and reached her as a mere humour. 
 That he should be entirely ignorant of what had taken 
 place and be swelling round there like a young turkey- 
 cock was too good a joke to be let slip by a girl of her 
 temperament, so she clapped her hands and cried: 
 
 "Oh, that isn't half of it. You haven't heard all the 
 particulars. He is going to put pig-pens under the 
 parlour windows and have the pigs killed on the front 
 porch. Now that is something like improvement. 
 We are getting a tent ready to live in. If you have any 
 influence with the superintendent, I hope you will ask 
 him to let us eat the chestnuts in the woods." 
 
 Here the young man stopped her, with a very super- 
 fluous seriousness. 
 
 "What's the use of my interfering?" he said. "I 
 guess your sister don't want me putting my oar in." 
 
 "Oh, put it in," exclaimed Sylvia. "I'm sure the 
 superintendent will not mind, if we don't." 
 
 This sort of badinage went on for a few moments 
 until Folingsby beat a retreat, and then Sylvia flew to 
 her aunt and sister with quite a different story. 
 
 "What do you think?" she exclaimed in short 
 breaths, as she found Aunt Sussex and Kate with their 
 heads together in an upper room. "The overseer of 
 the estate is going to cut out the trees and plow up the 
 lawns. It's just what you predicted. Folingsby has 
 just told me himself." 
 
 "Was he here again?" asked Kate, looking up with 
 a strange disregard of the danger of the situation.
 
 64 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 "Yes," replied Sylvia; "and he knows." 
 
 Aunt Sussex got up and shut the door. "My dear," 
 she said to Kate with her usual calmness, "it will be 
 necessary to send for the Judge and explain to him that 
 arrangements are making to pay off the indebtedness. 
 When he understands the new turn matters have 
 taken he will of course discharge the overseer and 
 stop the devastation. It is simply a matter of time, 
 and it will not do to have the place ruined while we are 
 waiting." 
 
 Kate looked at the matter rather wearily, Sylvia 
 thought, and so Aunt Sussex sent for the Judge to find 
 that he was "to Chambers," as usual, and, as she added 
 with superfluous acrimony, "keeping out of the way 
 of his wife. If he had any humanity, he would take 
 his son with him." 
 
 "Then," continued Aunt Sussex, "we shall have to 
 see his overseer, humiliating as it will be. He must be 
 warned." 
 
 "In that case, you may leave me out," said Kate. 
 "I do not wish to see the overseer." 
 
 "Oh, I'll see him," replied Aunt Sussex, drawing 
 herself up. "You leave him to me." 
 
 And then she wrote a frigid note and sent it off by 
 Pierson. It read as follows: 
 
 "JOHN BURT. 
 
 "Sir: When your arduous labours permit, will you 
 call at the Grange a moment on a matter of business ? 
 
 " Respectfully, 
 
 " SUSSEX BUSSEY."
 
 CHAPTER V 
 SUBTLE ANTAGONISMS 
 
 JOHN BURT was just about to set out for the railroad 
 station when Miss Sussex Bussey's summons reached 
 him. He was in high spirits, for he had received a letter 
 from an old friend who had found out where he was and 
 proposed visiting him. He looked at his watch and 
 found that he had time to walk over to the Grange 
 and ascertain what was wanted of him before going to 
 the station. 
 
 It was about ten o'clock in the morning when he 
 presented himself at the Bussey mansion and was 
 ushered into the parlour by Leesha with the large cere- 
 moniousness that had so little opportunity to express 
 itself. One of the cut-glass candelabra was lit on the 
 mantel, for it was a dark morning and the trees made 
 the room dusky. He sat down in one of the heavy old 
 chairs and surveyed the spacious apartment. Its tar- 
 nished gilt-and-white decoration, and marble caryatides 
 holding up the mantel, in the candlelight gave the place 
 a stately air of yesterday. 
 
 Miss Sussex Bussey in due time came in, stiff and 
 creaking in black silk. Very fragile and ceremonious 
 she was, and looked to John Burt as if she had stepped 
 out of an old canvas for the occasion. She sat down 
 very deliberately and composed herself. 
 
 "Mr. Burt," she said "I beg pardon, have I the 
 name right? I sent for you, because the principal, 
 
 65
 
 66 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 Judge Heckshent, is away. We prefer to deal with the 
 principal when we can, but in his absence we are com- 
 pelled, sir, to deal with his agent." 
 
 John Burt could not help wondering why she should 
 take such pains to put her disdain in front of her 
 business. 
 
 "It is important, sir," she continued, "to inform you 
 that arrangements are making to take the estate out 
 of the courts. We intend in a few days to clear off the 
 indebtedness, and in the meanwhile we wish to warn 
 you against proceeding in the destruction of the 
 property." 
 
 Here Miss Bussey stopped a moment to let her words 
 settle themselves securely in the young man's mind 
 and to let him frame an apology. 
 
 "Madam," he said, as courteously as he could, "let 
 me ask you one question, are you the principal on the 
 part of the estate?" 
 
 She put the back of her hand, which was covered 
 with a black half-mit, to her mouth, and gave a little 
 cough of self-assurance. 
 
 "Strictly speaking, I am not," she said ; "but Miss 
 Kate Bussey asked me to represent her in the matter. 
 I am her aunt. She may have felt that you would give 
 more heed to my request than you have given to 
 hers." 
 
 "Then I beg your pardon," said John Burt. "I, 
 myself, prefer to deal with the principal. You see, we 
 agree perfectly at the start." 
 
 He felt afterward, as he thought of the fragile little 
 old woman, that this petty triumph was unworthy 
 of him, but just then he was a little nettled. 
 
 "Very well," said Aunt Bussey, who concealed her 
 pique admirably. "I will call Miss Kate Bussey, but
 
 SUBTLE ANTAGONISMS 67 
 
 I think we could exchange our views more calmly with- 
 out her." 
 
 "I assure you," replied John Burt, with a laboured 
 bow, "that I will endeavour to preserve the serenity of 
 a gentleman under the most trying conditions." 
 
 Whereupon Aunt Sussex made a return bow and went 
 out with a rustle. 
 
 Left to himself, the young man lay back and smiled. 
 It was the first time in his experience that business had 
 been prefaced with a minuet. He waited five minutes 
 with the quiet exultation of one who has checkmated 
 the diplomacy of the past with the easy directness of 
 the present. Then he began to get restless. He 
 yawned, got up and strode about curiously, picked up 
 a book from the centre-table, went to the candelabra 
 and turned the pages. "Friendship's Offering 1849." 
 He laid it down, and going to a bookcase, read the names 
 of the volumes in the pallid flicker of the candle. The 
 titles whispered as it were of a closed era: "History 
 of the Huguenots," "The Wide, Wide World," "The 
 Wandering Jew," "Eliza Cooke's Poems," Guizot and 
 Lamartine. A fantastic notion slipped through his 
 mind that books were like their authors and perished, 
 leaving only their titles for tombstones. Finally he 
 picked up a heavy album from the table and stood by 
 the window turning the pages to kill time. What was 
 his surprise to find that it was a collection of sketch 
 plans in ink and water-colour of what were evidently 
 projected improvements on the Bussey estate. It had 
 been made years before, and the colours were faded, but 
 he saw at a glance that the work had been done by an 
 engineer and an artist, and as he studied it rapidly he 
 perceived that it was a noble and generous scheme of 
 old-fashioned enrichment in which the influence of the
 
 68 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 Italian examples were still apparent. His eye was 
 rapid and his memory good, and it did not take him long 
 to acquaint himself with the general plan. 
 
 How long he stood there it would be ungracious to 
 Aunt Sussex to say. She was vainly urging Miss Kate 
 to come down, and Kate was stubbornly refusing. 
 "Tell him to go away to do his worst but to spare 
 me any more interviews," said Kate, and so Aunt 
 Sussex came down the stairs again, slowly, holding on 
 to the hand-rail as if she felt more keenly than before 
 the need of support. 
 
 As John Burt stood there at the window intently 
 pouring over the album, the apron of cut tissue-paper 
 that hung over the grate gave a sudden rustle and flap 
 as if it were going up the chimney. The door had 
 opened softly and Aunt Sussex had reappeared. 
 
 "Miss Kate Bussey," she said, "begs to be excused. 
 She does not feel that her presence is at all necessary 
 to the conveyance of a simple warning. She desires 
 me to notify you if you go on with the defacement and 
 destruction of the property, that the estate will put in a 
 claim for trespass and damages when the indebtedness 
 is liquidated. She wished me to say that this notifica- 
 tion applies especially to your threat to cut down the 
 timber and plow up the terraces." 
 
 "I beg your pardon, madam threat, did you say? 
 My threat?" 
 
 "Yes, sir ; we have it from the best of authority that 
 you intend to commit that outrage if not restrained." 
 
 John Burt's lip twitched a little with vexation. 
 "May I ask you for your authority?" he said. 
 
 "I don't think it is necessary to go into that, sir. It 
 is sufficient for us that, you have received our notifica- 
 tion."
 
 SUBTLE ANTAGONISMS 69 
 
 Then Aunt Sussex bowed with an unmistakable air of 
 finality. There was nothing more to be said. John 
 Burt thought otherwise. 
 
 "Madam," he said, "you surprise and pain me. 
 You request me to come here with no other apparent 
 purpose than to affront me. You inform me when I 
 arrive that you would not deal with me at all if you 
 could find any one else, and then you accuse me of some- 
 thing which I cannot think ever entered any mind but 
 your own. There appears to be nothing left for me to 
 do but to thank you for your suspicions and absent 
 myself from your injustice. I hope you will not think 
 me rude if I suggest that hereafter you deal with the 
 principal." 
 
 He did not speak loudly, but he stood near the open 
 door, and the big hall was like a sounding-board, so that 
 all that was said reached Sylvia, who was craning over 
 the balustrade above. 
 
 A moment later John Burt had bowed himself 
 out and Aunt Sussex had blown out the candelabra 
 lights, put the chain upon the hall door, and 
 gone wearily up the stairs to her room, where it was 
 possible to arrange her ruffled feelings before seeing 
 Miss Kate. 
 
 Sylvia, on the other hand, never stopped to arrange 
 her feelings, but broke into Miss Kate's room precipi- 
 tately. Kate was in dishabille, her feet on a cushioned 
 stool, her hair hanging down her back and an open letter 
 lying on her lap. She did not look round as Sylvia 
 entered, but continued to gaze dreamily through the 
 window toward those misty valleys that ran blue and 
 soft toward the Shenandoah. 
 
 "Do you know what I think?" exclaimed Sylvia. 
 "Aunt has just as much tact as a porcupine. 'Loath-
 
 70 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 some ruffians' haven't that kind of a voice and don't 
 use that kind of language." 
 
 Kate continued pensively indifferent. 
 
 "'Madam,' he said," continued Sylvia oratorically, 
 with a superb gesture, "'I thank you for your suspicions 
 and will absent myself from your injustice.' Say, 
 Kate, a young man who can cut Aunty down like 
 that isn't going to waste any time cutting down 
 trees. I heard every word of it it was quite 
 orchestral. I wish he'd come up here every 
 day and spout. Kate, dear, what's the matter with 
 you?" 
 
 The girl came up and put her arm about her sister's 
 neck softly. Kate picked up the letter in her lap 
 limply and gave it to Sylvia. 
 
 "Oh, may I read it?" exclaimed the girl, running her 
 eye rapidly over the page and then exclaiming with 
 pure girlish impulse: "What a dismal, formal, heartless 
 affair." 
 
 "It's a month old," said Kate. 
 
 "So it is. It was written in June." 
 
 "Perhaps," said Kate musingly, "something has 
 happened to him." 
 
 "And you were worrying. How stupid I am. Shall 
 I comb your hair ? Wait till I go to my room and fetch 
 the comb." 
 
 "I'm not worrying," said Kate, when her sister came 
 back with the one favourite comb that did joint work for 
 the several boudoirs. "Perhaps I ought to worry more 
 than I do. A hundred things may have happened in a 
 month and we never hear a word of what is going on in 
 the world." 
 
 "Why what could have happened?" 
 
 The comb was now slipping through the long hair
 
 SUBTLE ANTAGONISMS 71 
 
 soothingly, and the operation seemed to have a magnetic 
 influence on Miss Kate's mind. 
 
 "Why storms, cyclones, fires, collisions and then 
 there are fogs and icebergs." 
 
 "And pirates," said Sylvia, desirous of adding to the 
 list. " Heavens ! What if Mr. Journingham has walked 
 the plank?" 
 
 "But it isn't necessary to pull my hair out by the 
 roots, if he has, is it?" 
 
 "Gracious! How carelessly you speak of such awful 
 possibilities ! And you forget the springing aleak in 
 mid-ocean. I fancy that's worse than all the rest. 
 Anyway, it's more exciting. I can hear the dreadful cry 
 ' All hands to the pumps ! ' Oh, dear, what if Mr. 
 Journingham has been labouring at the pumps day and 
 night while we have been taking our sleep and our meals 
 regularly and carelessly. I wonder if Mr. Journingham 
 is a good man at the pumps, and if the pumps on ship- 
 board work like ours. What a dismal noise there 
 must be." 
 
 "We never see the papers any more," said Kate; 
 "there's no telling what may have happened, and 
 then " 
 
 "Yes, and then " 
 
 "Then he may not have started." 
 
 Sylvia dropped the handful of hair, came round in 
 front of her sister, and sat down on the stool to look into 
 her face inquiringly. 
 
 "Dear," she said, "you don't act as if there was any 
 joy in that letter." 
 
 "Did you think that what I did was done for the joy 
 of it?" 
 
 Sylvia jumped up impulsively, but rapid as her body 
 sometimes was, her mind had more celerity.
 
 72 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 "Write him another letter quick and tell him you 
 have changed your mind. It will save passage money 
 and explanations." 
 
 Kate pulled her sister down, kissed her, and said that 
 would not be like a Bussey. "Now, do up my hair. 
 Aunty is coming." 
 
 "Well," said Aunt Sussex, "I put a flea in that young 
 man's ear. He cannot say now that he did not have 
 fair warning." 
 
 "Gracious," cried Sylvia, "it sounded as if he was 
 giving you warning." 
 
 Aunt Sussex never gave much heed to what Sylvia 
 said, and at this moment she disregarded her entirely. 
 
 "The arrogance of the man," continued the aunt, " is 
 astonishing. The idea of his talking to me as he did." 
 
 "It serves you right, Aunty," said Kate, "for descend- 
 ing to such a parley." 
 
 "Descend ! " exclaimed Aunt Sussex. "Does one 
 descend in giving orders to an inferior ?" 
 
 "Well, the inferior didn't descend," cried Sylvia. 
 
 "Syl is right, Aunty. This man is a mere incident. 
 The real vandal is over in the Judge's house." 
 
 "You astonish me, my dear. Do you suppose that I 
 would condescend to talk to that woman ?" 
 
 "No," said Kate. "I shall have to talk to her myself. 
 Having been honoured by a proposal of marriage from 
 her monkey, I suppose that it is my pleasing duty to 
 explain matters to her. Dear me, I wonder if our 
 parterres are worth it." 
 
 The invitation sent to Mrs. Heckshent to call at the 
 Grange met with a reception of another order. 
 
 "If her ladyship wants to see her betters, she can 
 come here," said Mrs. Heckshent. "That's the differ- 
 ence. I ain't running after favours."
 
 SUBTLE ANTAGONISMS 73 
 
 But her son Folingsby viewed the matter in another 
 light. He felt sure that Miss Kate had regretted her 
 harsh treatment of him, and desired in a roundabout 
 way to make some slight amends, and perhaps to open 
 a new approach ; she had thought the matter over and it 
 was only fair to give her another chance. As for running 
 after favours, why, that was a man's business with a 
 woman. And so, after a prolonged dispute, his mother, 
 without a word of assent, allowed him to get the 
 phaeton and drive her up to the Bussey mansion. 
 
 It was several years since she had last been there, and 
 as her son drove her leisurely round the house her recol- 
 lections were tinged with a little bitterness. She felt 
 that she had been ill-used and in some way despoiled 
 and pushed aside. Twice she made the circuit of the 
 mansion so that she could exercise her proprietary inter- 
 est in it, and then Folingsby waited in the vehicle while 
 she made the visit. He had a confused sense that in 
 some way she would patch up his errors and bring mat- 
 ters round to their old shape again. 
 
 The two women met in the parlour where John Burt 
 had danced his minuet. They shook hands, one a little 
 overcordial and the other politely dignified and calm. 
 
 "Some pretty bad holes in that wood road," began 
 Mrs. Heckshent. "Must be as much as your life's worth 
 with a light wagon at night." 
 
 Kate cut her short. "I am much obliged to you, 
 Mrs. Heckshent," she said, "for coming so promptly, 
 but it is a matter that interests both of us, and I knew 
 that you would like to have all misunderstandings 
 cleared away." 
 
 "Why, yes," replied Mrs. Heckshent ; "we've been 
 neighbours too long to hev misunderstandings. I am 
 sure I've done my best to keep up a right sperrit, and
 
 74 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 when I think that Folingsby was christened in this here 
 very room when you were a baby, and your grandmother 
 passed him round among the best in the land, it does seem 
 powerful strange how families wander apart as shouldn't. 
 Folly was awful cut up when you folks took to ridin' 
 past without stoppin'." 
 
 "He called here the other day," said Kate, "and 
 in a short conversation gave me to understand that you 
 had all along counted on an alliance of our families." 
 
 "Ain't that just like him?" remarked Mrs. Heckshent. 
 " It shows what a boy he is to use his mother's legs to 
 stand on when he's doin' his courtin'." 
 
 "I understood him to imply that you had made up 
 your mind that I was to marry him." 
 
 "The more fool he for saying it. I've generally said, 
 let young folks make their own beds, 'cause they've got 
 to lay in them." 
 
 "Did he tell you what passed between us ?" 
 
 "P'r'aps he did. It was in one ear and out t'other. 
 I've got too much work to tend to to stew over young 
 folks' goings on." 
 
 "There were no goings on," said Kate. "It was a very 
 brief conversation ; but as he went away, I fear, without 
 understanding me, I thought I would like to make the 
 matter plain to you, especially as he referred to you in 
 what he said." 
 
 "Oh, I've always had your interest at heart, as well 
 as his, and he don't bear any grudge. Leastways, it's 
 soon made up. He's young and apt to go off the 
 handle." 
 
 "He gave me to understand that the interests of the 
 two families would be assured by a marriage." 
 
 "And you fought shy at first. Well, I don't blame 
 you. I did myself at your age."
 
 SUBTLE ANTAGONISMS 75 
 
 "No," said Kate ; "I told him plainly that it was 
 impossible." 
 
 "And he wouldn't hev it. What boy would when 
 he's over head and ears ! " 
 
 "That is why I wanted to tell you, who are so much 
 older and more experienced, as plainly as possible that I 
 cannot marry your son." 
 
 Mrs. Heckshent could not help exhibiting a little 
 surprise at this, for she had been complacently making 
 up her mind to quite another conclusion. Her black 
 eyes opened a little wider and she hesitated a moment. 
 Then she said : 
 
 "I guess young people don't always know what they 
 can do till they try, and then they can't always do 
 what they want." 
 
 "I hope," said Miss Bussey, "that you will permit me 
 to know my own mind and to speak very plainly. The 
 reason why I cannot marry your son is that I am going 
 to marry somebody else. The gentleman is on his 
 way from England now." 
 
 As she said this a little glow of colour appeared in 
 her cheek, but her manner was unchanged. 
 
 "The marriage," she said, "will bring about a settle- 
 ment of the debts of the estate, and it was that I wished 
 to speak about. I thought it better to tell you myself, 
 and not wait for the Judge to inform you, because I 
 understood your son to say that you had some positive 
 ideas about the improvement of the place. Notice 
 of settlement will be conveyed by my attorneys 
 with the request that, pending the liquidation of the 
 debts, the overseer shall be withdrawn and the work 
 stopped." 
 
 Mrs. Heckshent was for a moment coldly and omi- 
 nously silent. Her black eyes seemed to smoulder with a
 
 76 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 suppressed fire. It takes some time to ignite such 
 natures by stabbing them with icicles. 
 
 "You are going to marry that Englishman?" she said 
 slowly and somewhat incredulously. 
 
 "I am to be married to Mr. Journingham shortly," 
 Kate replied. 
 
 "Well," said Mrs. Heckshent, trying to focus her 
 mind upon the full import of it, "it's about what I 
 ought to have expected, when you kept my boy 
 dancin' for years. Do you want to know my opinion 
 of it?" 
 
 "No," said Kate, "I don't care to know your opinion." 
 
 As she said it, both women stood up and faced each 
 other, a little defiantly perhaps. 
 
 "To make my own choice and take my own time 
 were among the few privileges left to me," continued 
 Kate, "and your opinion could have no weight in the 
 
 matter now." 
 
 
 
 "No," said Mrs. Heckshent, "you never did have 
 much respect for my opinions, nor my rights either. 
 Mebbe you'll change your mind." 
 
 "I think not," said Kate. "Of course, as we intend 
 to clear off the debt, we shall not permit the parterre 
 to be plowed up and the timber to be cut down." 
 
 Mrs. Heckshent had moved toward the door, and when 
 this parting shot reached her, she turned, and Kate saw 
 the vicious gleam in her eye. 
 
 "If the Judge had tended more to his own family and 
 not so much to yours," she said, "there wouldn't hev 
 been much trouble. You've had your own way in 
 pretty much everything, and I've drudged for mine 
 and paid my debts as honest folks do. I've heard all 
 I want to. All the lawyers in Pennsylvany and all the 
 Englishmen in England can't make it no different.
 
 SUBTLE ANTAGONISMS 77 
 
 You can talk to the Judge, and you've got a slick tongue. 
 But so can I." 
 
 As she uttered the last sentence, she gave Miss Kate 
 a parting look which made the young woman shrink 
 a little instinctively. It was a look that coils and warns 
 and seems to lift a venomous crest above shadowy and 
 mysterious paths. 
 
 Mrs. Heckshent went forth without looking back. 
 Folingsby was leaning forward in the waiting 
 vehicle to catch a glimpse of Miss Kate, who 
 should have followed his mother. But the young 
 woman remained in the parlour out of sight until 
 the vehicle disappeared in the trees. Mrs. Heckshent, 
 climbing in, seized the reins from her son's 
 hands, and slapping the horse's haunches viciously 
 with them, went away at a lively pace. For 
 a few moments Folingsby lay back in the seat and 
 watched her belabour the horse and jerk mercilessly 
 at the bit as they went down through the wood-road 
 slope, and then he said: 
 
 "You're flustered. She ain't marryin', is she?" 
 
 "You're a fool," said his mother. "She's been 
 slickin' up to marry fer mor'n a month, but she ain't 
 marryin' a pesky goslin' like you." 
 
 Folingsby's surprise and incredulity found expression 
 in characteristic brevity: 
 
 "Shucks," he said, "you ain't used to her." 
 
 As his mother did not deign to answer him immedi- 
 ately, but continued to exhibit a great deal of super- 
 fluous energy in driving the horse and twitching herself 
 about in the seat as if the journey had suddenly become 
 a matter of life and death, he waited some time and 
 then he said : 
 
 "Who's she goin' to marry?"
 
 78 THE CONQUERING OP KATE 
 
 "She's goin' to marry the Englishman. He's coming. 
 Been cut and dried since spring." 
 
 "Did she say it?" 
 
 "Squar in my teeth, as sweet as new milk and as 
 chilly as a tombstun." 
 
 Folly's face assumed a dismally blank expression of 
 helplessness. 
 
 "Do you mean it?" he asked. 
 
 "I jus' do. Her ladyship is goin' to chuck herself on 
 to that furriner pay up the debts, double onto her airs, 
 and slap your old woman in- the face. If I'd had my 
 way 'twould 'a' been different. But it was law and 
 friendship and honeyfuglin" with your old man, and 
 durn chicken-headed peepin' with you. A'tween you, 
 you've fixed it her way, and I wish you luck." 
 
 When they reached home, they both kept silent for 
 an hour, one of them making as much dust as she could 
 and rattling the furniture about in desperation, the other 
 sitting on a sofa with his head in his hands. Finally, 
 when he had apparently thought it all out and his mother 
 came in panting from her exertion, he said: 
 
 "Say, old woman, she can't do it. You mustn't 
 expect a man to have it when he wasn't brought up to 
 it. Maybe I can't stop it and maybe I can. Anyway, 
 first come, first served is my idea, and if I ain't got 
 anything to say to her, I'm powerful full of somethin' 
 to say to any man who thinks I'm nigger enough to 
 step out." 
 
 "Now you're talkin'," said his mother. "Your jaw 
 don't work unless it's kicked by a mule. Mebbe you 
 think you're as good a man as he is." 
 
 "Well, I ain't goin' to be rolled down a bank in 
 Franklin. 'Twouldn't be decent, while I've got a side 
 holt."
 
 SUBTLE ANTAGONISMS 79 
 
 She looked at him with a glittering eye and dropped 
 her voice : 
 
 "As there's a Gourd in heaven," she said, "I don't 
 calculate she'll marry the Englishman." 
 
 He got up, stood a moment thinking, and then replied: 
 
 "No more do I, old woman,"
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 RENEWED CHUMSHIP 
 
 A PICTURESQUE and somewhat imposing gentleman 
 jumped off the train with the two or three other passen- 
 gers at Bourgeon ville and created a little flurry of 
 interest among the few people there congregated, both 
 by his appearance and his manner. He was dressed 
 rather jauntily in loose summer attire, and towered a 
 little above the rest of the passengers, who for the most 
 part were farmers. He saluted John Burt by putting 
 one arm around his shoulders and grasping his hand. 
 
 "Does this railroad end here?" he asked. 
 
 "Yes," said John Burt, giving his hand a hearty 
 shake. "This is its present terminus." 
 
 "What a relief to the rest of the county," said his 
 friend. "You see what I have risked to catch you. 
 Let me look at you. When can I get back to Cham- 
 bersburg?" 
 
 "Not till I let go of you," said John Burt. 
 
 "Good enough. You can go back with me. I came 
 to fetch you. What have you a hotel or a farmhouse ? 
 What in the name of the Dark Ages are you doing here ? 
 Not married, I hope?" 
 
 "No not as bad as that." 
 
 "Good. Then you can tell me the worst. I can 
 stand anything but that." 
 
 "Why begin at the dismal end? I am trying to earn 
 an honest living." 
 
 80
 
 RENEWED CHUMSHIP 81 
 
 
 
 "Heavens!" exclaimed his friend, "has it come to 
 that?" 
 
 He surveyed the little station and the few houses in 
 the vicinity with beaming incredulity. 
 
 "It looks like a parable," he said, " hiding something 
 in a napkin it was a napkin, wasn't it? But all the 
 same I am overjoyed to get hold of you. Where's your 
 factory or works, or your logging-camp what is it you 
 call it?" 
 
 "You get into this trap," said John Burt, "and my 
 nigger will drive us up to my shake-down. Having 
 put your head into my net, the best thing you can do is 
 to submit gracefully." 
 
 His friend submitted not only gracefully but beam- 
 ingly. It was constitutional with him. He shed a 
 refulgent bonhomie like a personal light round about 
 him. A little group of gossips who were watching him 
 from the station window had their curiosity whetted 
 by his unlikeness to anything that usually lit at their 
 homely spot. He might be an English tourist, for he 
 had an air of easy importance and his garments had the 
 piquancy of the latest news in fashions. Penelly Seton, 
 who had driven down in her basket phaeton to get the 
 mail, regarded him through the little window with a 
 girl's quick appraisement. She saw him holding on to 
 John Burt's hand and she said: "Why, it must be 
 Mr. Journingham. My, how he's changed. He's had 
 his hair and mustache bleached and come out a blond." 
 To which a girl acquaintance replied: "Mr. Journing- 
 ham couldn't dye his age ! He was forty-five if he was 
 a day, and he had a face that would turn milk sour. 
 This one looks like butter and eggs." 
 
 The Bourgeonville vernacular was sometimes very 
 apt. "Butter and eggs" seemed at that moment, as the
 
 82 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 stranger turned a handsome face toward them beam- 
 ingly, to be just the quotation Miss Penelly was in 
 search of, and she gave it her assent with a gurgling 
 little "te-he." 
 
 "Oh, I'll tell you who it is," said Penelly. "It's the 
 new superintendent, and Mr. Journingham has sent 
 him. The other one is going away. What a shame. 
 Butter and eggs," she repeated; "he looks as though 
 his name might be Reginald. They act as if they had 
 known each other all their lives. What hypocrites 
 men are." 
 
 Wholly unaware of the interest they had awakened, 
 the young men climbed into the trap, and Corn, the 
 coloured servant whose name was Cornwallis and 
 who was distinguished among his clan for having been 
 an English officer's valet for one season at Saratoga 
 drove away with them. 
 
 "Tony," said John Burt, "yours is the only familiar 
 face I have seen since I came here, so you will pardon 
 mine for taking on some of your confounded elation." 
 
 "See here it's providential," said Tony. "I was 
 down at Gettysburg with some officers old comrades of 
 my governor's and stopped over on my way back, at 
 Chambersburg. There I heard of you wired you 
 took my life in my hands. Here I am. Now, one ques- 
 tion before all else. You are not anchored, are you?" 
 
 "Well, I'm not drifting. Got tired of it." 
 
 "But you have no bonds of servitude no damnable 
 contracts that prevent you from entertaining angels 
 unawares who might carry you off. No constitutional 
 objection to being pulled from under a bushel and set 
 upon a hill." 
 
 As he said this he turned upon his companion a face 
 suddenly lit up with cordial and handsome effusiveness.
 
 RENEWED CHUMSHIP 83 
 
 It called back a thousand recollections of old times to 
 John Burt, more swiftly and graphically than one can 
 explain. The same wide-open blue eyes; the same fair 
 skin like a girl's; the same gleam of white teeth under 
 the heavy blond mustache; the same yellow locks 
 sticking out in flat curls under his Panama hat. It 
 was as if Tony had suddenly thrown open in that smile 
 the full casket of his virtues and his weaknesses. How 
 often that smile had disarmed reproof and warded off 
 justice. How often great schemes requiring grim and 
 ruthless treatment had ended in that beam of good 
 nature that no one could resist and that seemed to shed 
 a rosy light on failure and disappointment. Some men's 
 vices are so amiable that we never can distinguish them 
 from their virtues. 
 
 John Burt made a sign to indicate that Corn had his 
 ears cocked and that it would be well to reserve their 
 confidences until they were alone. The remainder of 
 the journey, therefore, was given to non-committal 
 news from town. When they were set down in front 
 of the stone hut at the Basswood Spring, John Burt 
 executed a welcome by saying: "This is my villa. 
 Such as it is, you may consider it yours ad interim." 
 
 He threw the door open, and Tony, poking his yellow 
 head in and surveying the interior, said: 
 
 "In the name of desolation, have you squatted?" 
 
 "Provisionally," said his companion as they entered. 
 "You can kick those heavy shoes off and I'll give you 
 a pipe. When you have come down to my level of 
 homely dishabille, we'll pursue our explanations. 
 Wait till I fetch a jug of cold water from the spring." 
 
 Before John Burt came back, his friend had taken 
 him at his word and made himself comfortable in the 
 only large chair the place afforded, and was surveying
 
 84 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 the apartment critically. Its air of homely comfort 
 evidently pleased him. The walls had been white- 
 washed and the floor scrubbed. The master's accouter- 
 ments furnished the decorations, and included a field-glass 
 and a gun. In the corner the brass of a surveying level 
 shone brightly, and on the planks which had been made 
 into a large table and covered with a cotton cloth there 
 were drawing materials and a large sheet of white paper 
 fastened down with thumb-tacks. The two low win- 
 dows of the place hung full of sweet-brier and scarlet 
 runner, and the sun coming through the green trans- 
 lucence gave a mellow atmosphere to the room; but 
 above all, it was that exclusiveness of improvised 
 comfort, which all men at some time in their lives are 
 true enough to their rude ancestors to enjoy, that gave 
 the place its chief interest to the visitor. 
 
 "Jack, my boy," said Tony, "suppose you cut all 
 minor duties and tell me what the devil you are trying 
 to do here." 
 
 "I am trying to oversee an estate." 
 
 "Overseer! Bless my soul! John Burt, mathema- 
 tician, Lieutenant of Engineers, scholar, gentleman, and 
 Master of Arts. Go on, and do make it plausible and 
 short." 
 
 "None of which things," said John Burt, "enabled 
 me to earn my living. It's a long story. What are your 
 engagements?" 
 
 "Haven't any. Never had any. You ought to know 
 that. You haven't got a fan, have you?" 
 
 John Burt hunted up an old palm-leaf fan and handed 
 it to him. 
 
 "See here," he said, "it's cooler out undet the trees. 
 Let me carry that chair out. My nigger's in the stable." 
 
 Once under the trees, Tony put his feet on a camp-stool
 
 RENEWED CHUMSHIP 85 
 
 and, lying back in his chair, fanned himself indolently 
 and said: 
 
 "This is a business trip of mine, you know. I've 
 become intensely practical since you saw me." 
 
 His companion, having seated himself where he could 
 admire the comely comfort of his friend, was inclined to 
 be retrospective. 
 
 " How long is it ? " he asked. 
 
 "Is what since we saw each other? Six years, as 
 I am a beggar." 
 
 "Can't be." 
 
 "By the calendar and the pity of it, six mortal years 
 crammed full of mortal vanity, in which the whirligig 
 has put in its work as usual. I have performed some 
 herculean feats since I saw you, old fellow the most 
 herculean of all was to pay my debts. You never sus- 
 pected in old times that it was a point of honour with 
 me to pay my debts, did you?" 
 
 "Yes, I did you only needed time and money." 
 
 " Do you remember that summer when I trudged afoot 
 from Berlin to Wittemburg and went beastly broke 
 trying to walk in the footsteps of Martin Luther." 
 
 " I remember it very well. We had a most exemplary 
 time of it when I got there. We did everything that 
 good sons of Reformers should do. We pretended that 
 we found the nail-holes in the Schloss Kirche where the 
 ninety-five propositions were nailed up. We both 
 admired the same Gretchen and ate her kraut vora- 
 ciously. Have you forgotten her fat, pudgy feet and 
 thick ankles and white stockings, and how she laughed 
 when I tried to quote "Wilhelm Meister" to her? The 
 fleeting odour of garlic was like mignonette in those 
 days, Tony." 
 
 "That is all very well," said Tony; "but you never
 
 86 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 knew what a hole I was in. Out of funds, suspected 
 of being a spy, snubbed by a dunder-headed consul, 
 getting hungrier every day, when I happened to see 
 your name in a copy of the Beige. I had just money 
 enough to post you a letter to Lubeck. You were a 
 floating spar on my ocean of despair. I was lying in 
 bed one morning in the top of that Stadt, trying to 
 make sleep take the place of a breakfast, when you 
 stalked in and held out your hand with your pocketbook 
 in it. Did I give way to any false sentiment or mock 
 modesty? Didn't I just open that pocketbook and 
 take out what I wanted while you turned your 
 back?" 
 
 "I believe you did," said John Burt, laughing; "but 
 as you say, I had my back turned." 
 
 "Did I in any manner impair th confidence which 
 you would naturally repose in my promptness and 
 candour?" 
 
 "Upon my honour, you did not," said John; "but 
 why harp on it?" 
 
 "You will permit me to expect some small show of 
 the same virtues in others that I possess myself." 
 
 "No. It can't be done. I have tried on several 
 occasions to imitate your magnificence, but I always 
 made a failure of it. You know, of course, that the 
 war smashed my governor completely, and when I came 
 back from Europe it was to a rather grim prospect. 
 Civil engineering was rather congested with army 
 officers, and my mother was left, when all was scraped 
 together, including her pension, with a beggarly eight 
 hundred a year, and without going into details I may 
 say that for a year or two I had a pretty tough time of 
 it, not having been bred to economy." 
 
 "That was where your infernal meanness of disposi-
 
 RENEWED CHUMSHIP 87 
 
 tion undid you," said Tony. "Why didn't you send 
 for me and collect your debts like a man?" 
 
 "You? You were in Brazil." 
 
 "Does it occur to you that a little thing like that 
 doesn't usually separate friends, especially when one of 
 them is a creditor?" 
 
 "I had just made up my mind," said John Burt, "to 
 join the Forbes expedition to the Isthmus, in which I 
 was offered a fairly good commission, when my uncle, 
 Rufus Burt you remember the old gentleman : he made 
 his money in boulevard property; belonged to that 
 thrifty gang who bought their property first and then 
 laid the boulevards out afterward sent for me one day, 
 and says he, 'Look here, Jack, my boy, your mother 
 tells me you are thinking of going off on that Central 
 American speculation.' 'Yes,' I replied ; 'I've got to 
 do something to make a living.' 'Well, don't do that,' 
 says he ; ' I'll put you up to something better. You'll 
 die of the Chagres fever in less than six months down 
 there, and it's not a fair shake for the old lady. She's 
 a good deal cut up about it and has been to see me. If 
 you don't mind, I can squeeze you into our Southern 
 Improvement Company. What we want is a lively 
 young prospector down along the Maryland line to keep 
 his eyes open for us. The war has left things in pretty 
 bad shape and there's some good bargains to be snapped 
 up. The salary will not amount to much, but it will be 
 a cold day when we can't squeeze out ten per cent, for 
 you on the sales ! The proposition did not stir my 
 enthusiasm, but the next day he got a letter from a 
 Judge Heckshent of this place, who was looking for a 
 man to pull this estate out of what he called ruck and 
 ruin. 'Now, then,' says my foxy uncle, 'there you are 
 just the caper for you. Make your headquarters on
 
 88 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 the Judge's property and he can help pay for yotir pros- 
 pecting. If you don't strike it rich, it's your own fault. ' 
 And here I am." 
 
 "Does your story end there?" asked his companion, 
 with a yawn. 
 
 "No; that's where it begins. Having been signed, 
 sealed and delivered into a kind of paradise where every 
 prospect pleases and become unduly inflamed with real 
 estate schemes, I find myself between the upper and 
 nether millstone of an owner and a possessor. One 
 employs me and the other heaps obloquy upon my 
 defenseless head. The de jure owner has a mortgage 
 upon the estate, but he is also some kind of a guardian 
 of the de facto possessor, and their views do not accord." 
 
 "Look here, Jack, is there any heart interest in this 
 story?" 
 
 "Not a twinge. The only interest is at the rate of 
 six per cent., and hasn't been paid in six years." 
 
 "Good," said Tony; "and you don't like your job." 
 
 "I am not over squeamish, and I have an idea that if 
 I could find a purchaser for this estate I might turn an 
 honest penny. It is really a magnificent domain, and 
 it will go under the hammer sooner or later. If you'll 
 stop over a day or two with me I'll show it to you. It 
 would just suit some of those young fellows at the 
 Sportsmen's Club whose fathers have been skinning the 
 Government. I've been making a map of it." 
 
 "What's the place worth?" asked Tony. 
 
 "As a farm it isn't worth the interest, in its present 
 condition. As a park well, to the right sort of a buyer 
 it ought to fetch $50 an acre. There's a thousand acres 
 and a house that must have cost $20,000. If you 
 lean over you can see the corner of it among the trees." 
 
 "Never mind the house," said Tony, who was evi-
 
 RENEWED CHUMSHIP 89 
 
 dently indisposed to change his position. "How long 
 will it take you to dispose of the place?" 
 
 "It is not plain sailing. There are three women in 
 the house who guard it with ancestral fury." 
 
 "Young women?" 
 
 "The heiress is a young woman, and in the estimation 
 of the county is the finest fruit the place has produced. 
 She has a sister and an aunt." 
 
 "I see two peaches and a persimmon. Excuse the 
 pomological vulgarity. Where do we get our dinner?" 
 
 "If you don't mind, I will get you up something here 
 when Corn comes back. He manages to keep me pretty 
 well supplied. As I was saying, the mortgagor, who is 
 trying to get the interest out of the place, hasn't resolu- 
 tion enough to face these women, foreclose and set them 
 on the highway, so he gets an order of the court to put 
 in a superintendent who is thick skinned enough to carry 
 out the trivial and hard-hearted details of the situation 
 and save him from the withering vengeance of the three 
 graces. Why, I have felt like a malignant miscreant 
 ever since I have been here. They slammed the door 
 in my face, regard me as a ruthless devastator and 
 appeal to their ancestors to smite me into the earth. 
 It's quite a novel sensation to be impaled with the scorn 
 and contempt of the old regime. Suppose you come 
 inside and I'll see what there is for lunch." 
 
 As they entered the hut, John continued: "There's 
 one comfort none of them will come here to freeze up 
 our blood. I am just over their line on a strip of the 
 Judge's property. I'll move these papers off the table 
 and forage. You can go on and tell me what it is that 
 weighs on your mind. Any one can see it's heavy by 
 your downcast looks." 
 
 "By Jove, it's a rescue," said Tony, as he seated him-
 
 90 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 self in the chair which John had brought in. "I am 
 heaven-sent to deliver you from this withering nonsense. 
 I am going to Cuba and you have to go with me." 
 
 "Do I?" exclaimed John, who was taking out the 
 thumb-tacks. "On what compulsion do I ?" 
 
 Tony beamed at him with a sufficient answer. "See 
 here, old chap, it's the Wittemburg affair over again, 
 only this time the pocketbook is in the other fellow's 
 hands. I depend on you. Don't go off into a lot of 
 independent frills of superfluous self-respect. This 
 is not benevolence it is business. I don't want you 
 to remember me, but discover me. I've changed 
 my spots. I'm a practical man yes, I am it's been 
 pounded into me. I should think you could see it in 
 my face," and then he beamed. 
 
 "It's the last place I should look for it," said John. 
 "Your glowing mug is like a flagon of that Moselle wine 
 we drank at Lubeck." 
 
 "Bubbles, eh? That's where you make a mistake. 
 I've blown them all off. You behold only the dregs of 
 a wasted life." 
 
 And Tony's blue eyes opened wide, a comfortable 
 joyousness spread over his face, and his white teeth 
 gleamed under his blond mustache. 
 
 "But it isn't too late, my boy," he continued, "to 
 redeem the past, with practical labour and intense 
 application. One must strive and suffer a bit to secure 
 the highest rewards of life. You never suffered any, 
 Jack." 
 
 "Oh, yes I have. You used to take me five and six 
 blocks out of my way to avoid your creditors, and you 
 nearly talked me to death on the advantages of thrift 
 and economy. " 
 
 "Yes, old Griscom used to tell us at school you
 
 RENEWED CHUMSHIP 91 
 
 remember snuffy Griscom he used to tell us that life 
 needs a pursuit. That may do for tailors and boot- 
 makers, but do you know I think it needs a pursuer to 
 have any zest. After I paid those fellows off it became 
 a kind of aching void. There isn't much worth living for 
 when a man can take a straight line to a given point. 
 Among the assets of my mother's estate was a sugar 
 plantation in western Cuba. Jack, have you any 
 idea what the profits are on a crop of sugar?" 
 
 "No," said John indifferently. He was giving instruc- 
 tions to Corn, who had just come in. "Go on," he said to 
 his friend, " and tell me all about it." 
 
 "But I can't if you don't get up an interest in it." 
 
 "My dear fellow, I am devouring it; but you will 
 want to devour something else presently. We have 
 some hot potatoes in the ashes in the kitchen a cold 
 chicken and a bottle of Bass, with a fresh loaf and 
 fresh butter. Do you think we can sufficiently munch 
 on that?" 
 
 "If the ale is cold and the butter is fresh I think we 
 can tide over. Now, give me your serious attention. 
 This is vital. I don't suppose any of the withered 
 guardians will intrude on us here. I don't want to put 
 on my coat." 
 
 "Withered?" said John. "You mistook me: I said 
 withering. There's some difference. I spoke of the 
 heiress as repulsive in manners, not in looks. Return 
 to Cuba." 
 
 "I stopped over there on my way back from Brazil 
 and took a look at my estate. Have you ever examined 
 into the revenues of coffee-raising? Of course you 
 haven't. You wouldn't wear that look of indifference 
 if you had. There's eight hundred acres of superb land 
 running down to a sunny cove, with a mile of white beach
 
 9 2 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 and a lagoon shut in by a coral reef. There's a stone 
 hacienda, one of those hurricane houses that hug the 
 earth like an alligator all verandas and jalousies and 
 balconies, with anaconda vines twisted all over it." 
 
 "What's the condition of the plantation?" asked 
 John. 
 
 "Bad beyond expression. Needs a puller-up. Been 
 harried by the insurgents and stripped by the Govern- 
 ment. " 
 
 "I'm afraid you've come to the wrong man," said 
 John. "I'm not a capitalist." 
 
 "If you had been I would have avoided you. One 
 capitalist in the firm is enough. Jack, I met General 
 Jordan down there he is an American and is fighting 
 with the insurgents. He convinced me that sooner or 
 later the island will belong to the United States, and the 
 smart fellow is he who gets in now on the ground plan. 
 Coming back on the steamer to New York, I dreamed, 
 between the spasms of sea-sickness, of orange trees 
 holding out their palms with cool fruit in them for my 
 breakfast; and black eyes with tropical dreams in them 
 languishing amid cocoanut trees ; of a sunlit archipelago 
 with a steam yacht riding on a blue expanse, and the 
 coral reefs showing their white teeth at low tide, senti- 
 neled by the jolly flamingoes like so many grenadiers. 
 I pictured myself in a hammock leisurely picking off 
 bushwhackers with a silver-mounted rifle, when I was not 
 loading my sugar on argosies bound for Tampa and 
 Savannah. 'By the star of destiny,' I said, 'it only 
 needs a supplementary mind a damned methodical, 
 scientific, executive, matter-of-fact plodder to turn this 
 dream into a tropical reality. Where the devil is my 
 old chum, Jack Burt?' Look here, old fellow, things 
 happen almost supernaturally sometimes, whether you
 
 RENEWED CHUMSHIP 93 
 
 are in Wittemburg or Chambersburg. ' Presto ! ' says 
 Chance. ' Here he is seize him ! ' Just when you least 
 expect it, something flutters out of a clear void with a 
 message, and there you are." 
 
 John Burt, who had been bustling around in search 
 of supplies, came and put his hand on Tony's shoulder. 
 He was influenced by two unlike impulses one of old- 
 time disbelief in the staying power of Tony's enthusiasm, 
 and the other a natural and irresistible admiration of 
 his friend's generous nature. He was just about to 
 make some kind of pleasant and evasive answer, when 
 there came a little rat-a-tat-tat at the door. It sounded 
 so much like a woodpecker's bill that both men listened, 
 but when it was repeated John strode to the door 
 without waiting for his servant, and having thrown it 
 open, was confronted, somewhat to his astonishment, 
 by Miss Sylvia Bussey, dressed in a tissuey mousseline de 
 laine and a flaming Garibaldi, with a little chip hat 
 cocked on the back of her head, and looking altogether 
 very crisp and pretty and somewhat frightened at her 
 own audacity. 
 
 "Can I speak to you a moment?" she said gently, and 
 as she stepped backward as she said it John Burt had 
 to go out to her. 
 
 " Miss Bussey, " I believe. 
 
 "Yes, I am Miss Kate Bussey's sister" still backing 
 away. 
 
 "Is there anything I can do for you, Miss 
 Bussey?" 
 
 "Yes. I wanted to ask you a question to your face. 
 Do you intend to plow up the terraces and cut down 
 the old trees?" 
 
 "No, Miss Bussey. Such an idea never entered my 
 head. "
 
 94 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 "I didn't believe it did, so I wanted to ask you 
 plainly." 
 
 " Is there any other information that I can give you?" 
 
 "I hope you'll excuse me, but I wanted to see if you 
 had a newspaper. " 
 
 "A newspaper," he repeated after her. "I have a 
 copy of the New York Herald, but it is three days old. 
 Did you wish to borrow it?" 
 
 "Oh, no; I only wanted to look it over. May I?" 
 
 "Will you not step inside and sit down? I will get it 
 for you. 
 
 "No, I thank you. If you would just let me see it, 
 please." 
 
 During this brief colloquy she had furtively glanced at 
 Burt and appeared to be considering how much more 
 harmless he was than her fears had painted him. By 
 the time he had returned with a badly crumpled news- 
 paper in his hand she had evidently made up her mind 
 that he was altogether too affable for a devastator, for 
 she gave him a timid little smile as she took the 
 paper, and hoped that she wasn't putting him to any 
 trouble. 
 
 "You are honouring me," said John Burt gallantly, 
 "by allowing me to be of some service to you. But I 
 cannot permit you to stand out here and read the paper. 
 Perhaps if you are in search of any particular news I 
 might assist you." 
 
 She hesitated a moment. If there had been an 
 accident at sea he would be likely to know of it and she 
 might not learn anything from one newspaper. Had 
 John Burt known that Innocence was framing a little 
 white lie he would not have admired it the less, such is 
 the vanishing point of ethics in beauty. 
 
 "I wanted to find out," she said hesitatingly, "if a
 
 RENEWED CHUMSHIP 95 
 
 steamship had been lost at sea. I had a friend coming 
 from England and we have not heard a word. " 
 
 "When did your friend sail?" 
 
 " He must have sailed in June. " 
 
 "And this," said John Burt, "is the twentieth of 
 July." 
 
 " You see, we are so shut off from the world that we do 
 not get the newspapers." 
 
 "I have not heard of any disaster at sea 
 since the loss of the Oceanica," said John Burt. 
 "Let me see that was in June. Of course you knew 
 about that." 
 
 "Then there was a steamship lost at sea?" said 
 Sylvia, with what John Burt thought was something 
 like a glad surprise. 
 
 "Yes," he replied, thinking to add to her apparent 
 enjoyment of that sort of thing. " But there may have 
 been others, you know. I haven't kept run of the 
 papers. I'll ask my friend he's fresh from New York. 
 Perhaps I can find some earlier papers. Pardon me a 
 moment." 
 
 Sylvia had seen a blond head bobbing slowly about 
 at the window, and had heard voices in the cabin, all of 
 which had given rise to a feeling that perhaps she might 
 have come upon a nest of overseers. She was fingering 
 the rumpled paper nervously, standing in solitary 
 picturesqueness and looking, from the window, in her 
 airy and fluttering grace, as if a petunia had suddenly 
 come up there under the tulip tree. Presently John 
 Burt returned with his friend, who had got himself into 
 his shoes and coat with what for him was marvelous 
 celerity, and Corn brought a camp-stool out for the 
 young lady. 
 
 "My friend, Mr. Tony Brahm, Miss Bussey. She
 
 96 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 wishes to learn something about the loss of the Oceanica. 
 We do not get the news promptly down here." 
 
 Sylvia glanced at the three men she had evoked. 
 They were rather formidable in their masculinity and 
 politeness, and her little mission dwindled against the 
 prospect. She looked a little scared. 
 
 "Oh," she said, "I didn't mean to put you all to so 
 much trouble. I'll run back if you'll let me keep this 
 paper !" and she made a little start. 
 
 "I don't think you will find what you want in that 
 paper," said John Burt; "the news is pretty old by this 
 time." 
 
 "The Oceanica ran into a collier off the Needles in a 
 fog," said Tony, beaming handsomely with his infor- 
 mation. 
 
 "Yes," said Sylvia with a little gasp; "she sprang 
 aleak I knew it." 
 
 "I don't remember the particulars," said Tony with 
 his very best smile. "I think pretty much everybody 
 was lost except the cook and the purser. You want the 
 list of passengers, of course," 
 
 "Yes, if you please," said Sylvia, with a grateful 
 expression, as if she expected him to pull the list from 
 his breast bocket. 
 
 "Why, then, you know, you write to the steamship 
 company." 
 
 "Thank you," said Sylvia, making a motion as if to 
 fly. "Of course. I should have thought of that." 
 
 "What was the date of the disaster?" asked John 
 Burt. 
 
 Tony pulled his blond mustache. "Let me see 
 I heard the news in the Racquet Club. Valentine was 
 there, and he was killed on the twentieth. It must have 
 been before that.
 
 RENEWED CHUMSHIP 97 
 
 "Wait a moment," said John Burt. "Perhaps I can 
 find an older paper. I'll rummage." 
 
 Then he disappeared into the cabin, and Mr. Tony 
 Brahm, placing the camp-stool in a more inviting spot, 
 begged the young lady to be seated, and, there being 
 nothing else to do, she sat down. 
 
 "Dreadful thing this an accident at sea," said Tony. 
 
 "It must be awful," replied Sylvia. "Was it in the 
 night?" 
 
 "Upon my word, I don't recall the time. I just looked 
 at the list of the lost. There was nobody I knew, and 
 by the way, what was the name of your friend ? I might 
 recall it as being in the list if it were an unusual name." 
 
 "Oh, it isn't of sufficient importance to annoy other 
 people with." 
 
 "Isn't it?" asked Tony with some surprise, and won- 
 dering to himself how she managed to keep that little 
 hat on the back of her head in spite of her constant 
 motions. 
 
 "He was only an acquaintance," said Sylvia, " and 
 I think I'll go back now." 
 
 "Wait a moment. Mr. Burt may find the list, you 
 know. What a beautiful domain you have here, Miss 
 Bussey." 
 
 "Yes," said Sylvia indifferently, that being an old 
 story. "I suppose the poor passengers had to work the 
 pumps." 
 
 "Why, no; my impression is they were spared that 
 lingering agony. Her bulkheads were stove and she 
 went down head first." 
 
 "Gracious ! Isn't it dreadful !" said Sylvia, her eyes 
 sparkling and her fingers fumbling the paper as if she 
 were anxious to get at the sickening details. 
 
 "What a morbid little wretch," thought Tony Brahm.
 
 98 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 "Jack," he cried, "what are you doing? You are leav- 
 ing Miss Bussey in suspense." 
 
 "Come here a moment," called John. And with that 
 Tony made a bow, asking her not to run away, and went 
 in to his friend. 
 
 "See here," said John, "there's an old Herald on this 
 pantry shelf. Help me get these cans off." 
 
 In their hurry one of them dropped a glass 
 jar of cranberry jelly, adding to the clatter 
 and stickiness of the occasion, and when they 
 pulled the paper out it was somewhat smeared. 
 But John Burt folded it as well as he could 
 with the smear inside and presented it to the young 
 lady, with the remark that it might contain something 
 about the disaster, and as she thanked him and 
 turned to go he said: "Let me accompany you to the 
 river path; there are several strange workmen about." 
 She protested, but he insisted and walked beside her 
 down the slope, Tony looking after them and pulling his 
 blond mustache thoughtfully. 
 
 "It is not at all necessary for you to come," said 
 Sylvia. "I know the way better than you do." 
 
 "But you might think of some more questions you 
 would like to ask me." 
 
 "I am sure I should think of them better if you would 
 go back." 
 
 "But I couldn't answer them." 
 
 Just then one burning question did occur to her. 
 "Is he another overseer?" she asked. 
 
 "He is a friend of mine who has come from New York 
 to pay me a visit for a day or two. Isn't there some- 
 thing else?" 
 
 "No, not now. Please don't come any farther." 
 
 Then he bowed and she left him, going hurriedly along
 
 RENEWED CHUMSHIP 99 
 
 the river path and thinking it all over in a tumultuous 
 way. 
 
 "Dear me," she said to herself, "poor Mr. Journingham 
 may have had to work the pumps till he fell exhausted 
 poor man, and he was hurrying to his wedding." 
 
 As for John Burt, he went springily back and was 
 accosted by Tony in a beamingly reproachful manner. 
 
 "You have my heartfelt commiseration, old chap," 
 he said. "I was watching her through the window and 
 saw her appealing to her ancestors to smite you into the 
 earth." 
 
 "Oh, she's only a study," replied John. "Wait till 
 you see the other one. The other is the completed 
 picture. You see the bitterness and odium isn't equally 
 distributed in the family. Didn't she put you in mind 
 of one of Vernet's nymphs, standing there under the 
 tree in her red Garibaldi?" 
 
 "Well," replied Tony Brahm reflectively, "it occurred 
 to me as I saw her from the window that she was more 
 like a danger signal. Suppose we get that lunch now, 
 and I'll resume the Cuban narrative."
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE JUDGE ALSO DANCES A MINUET 
 
 "YES," said Sylvia, as she listened to herself a day 
 later. "Mr. Journingham is no more, and it is my 
 Christian duty not to be glad. I'll try hard, and there 
 is Miss Haggerty up in the blue room making over all 
 those things. It may not be sad, but it's perfectly 
 awful. 
 
 She did not tell the household that she had made a 
 visit to the overseer. She only gave out the news of 
 the Oceanica and watched her sister closely. 
 
 "We shall know with certainty in a day or two," said 
 Aunt Sussex, after they had brooded over the informa- 
 tion. "I have written to the steamship company and 
 to Cousin Ralph Toland and Major Goldborough. We 
 have no information of any disaster and must not give 
 way to idle apprehensions." 
 
 Kate said very little, and was inclined to run away 
 from all considerations of the subject. It was an 
 inviting morning and she asked her sister to go with her 
 to see Unc'l Dan'l. But Sylvia expected Penelly, and 
 so Miss Kate set out, chiefly desirous of escaping into 
 the calm assurance of the objective world. Neverthe- 
 less, she took Pierson with her. With his help she found 
 the cabin into which the old servant had been moved. 
 It stood not far to the north of the Bass wood Spring, in 
 the sunshine of the southern slope, shielded but hardly 
 shadowed by the old oaks. Unc'l Dan'l himself, an 
 
 100
 
 THE JUDGE ALSO DANCES A MINUET 101 
 
 aged negro with white hair circling his bald head and 
 fringing his face, somewhat crumpled in body, was 
 sitting in an old Quaker rocker outside the door. 
 
 "Well, Uncle," said Miss Kate, "so they moved you 
 in spite of all I could say." 
 
 " Bress de Lo'd, honey, youse like an answer to pray'r. 
 I sniff you comin' like de spring lilarks." 
 
 "Had I known that my orders were to be treated 
 with contempt, I would not have left you alone," she 
 said. "I suppose it has thrown you back again. 
 How's your rheumatism?" 
 
 Unc'l Dan'l put his hands on the side of the rocker 
 and tried to lift himself up. She gently pressed him 
 back again. "Sit still," she said. "It's a great out- 
 rage." 
 
 "No, Miss Kate, 'sail for de bes, suah." 
 
 "Whether it is for the best or not, I forbade it. I 
 used to have some authority at least, with you." 
 
 "No, Miss Kate, de bose he was a-doin' de Lo'd's 
 will. He doan' say nuffin 'bout hisself nohow. Lissen 
 to me, Miss Kate. He done gone tote de ole cabin out 
 de buckwheat fiel' for de missus. ' Hyar, you ole man, ' 
 he says, 'what you sot down here in de mud for, wen de 
 missus want you to git well ? How you goin' to git well 
 in dis hyar wet and dis yar eas' win' a-whistlin' in you 
 ole bones? Doan you know you missus tryin' to 
 doctor you up, you ole fool nigger ? She can't move you 
 outen dis yere wet wid her white han's, kin she ?' ' Bress 
 de Lo'd, Bose,' I tole him, 'I'm ready to go whenever 
 Gabriel toots his horn. Dis yar's good miff place for 
 an ole nigger like me to go from.' 'See hyar,' says de 
 bose, 'de trumps a-soundin' now, and I'm de Angel 
 Gabriel, and you just sot yourself down thar in my 
 cabin and I hist dis yar ole pen out de mud an' tote you
 
 102 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 up on a rock, ole man, and turn de sun on yer, den yer 
 wont want ter go so bad. A good nigger's home ought 
 to be founded on a rock, and not sot down hyar in a 
 drain.' " 
 
 Kate was listening to him in what might be called a 
 disdainful reverie. She called to Pierson, who stood 
 some distance away, to bring her something to sit on, 
 from the cabin, and he brought out a rickety old carpet- 
 covered bench, giving it one or two wipes with his coat- 
 sleeve. When she sat down, Unc'l Dan'l, noting her 
 incredulity, went on: 
 
 " Suah, honey, juss what I tole yer. He tote de whole 
 cabin up hyar in one day. ' Lookout dar, you niggers,' 
 he says. 'If you bust one bo'd yer missus skin yer. 
 Doan yer lose a stone yer missus count 'em. Yer 
 good fer nothin' lazy niggers, I'll make yer work if yer 
 earn yer hoe-cake.' 'Bress de Lo'd,' says I, 'it do sound 
 like Colonel John come back agin.' ' 
 
 Miss Kate was looking dreamily into the trees down 
 the slope where the river flashed itself through in silver 
 patches. The old man paused a moment, and seeing 
 that his strain was listened to thoughtfully, took it up 
 again : 
 
 "Suah as yer live, Miss Kate. 'Iclar out all you 
 niggers,' says de bose, 'if you doan earn yer salt. What 
 yer think dis yar place good fer, heh ! Jess co's yer 
 missus got no man to look arter it, yer skin de river an' 
 steal de game an' burn up de trees. Mebbe yer 
 missus git a man to fire yer black rascals all outen. 
 Look hyar, ole man,' he says to Unc'l Dan'l, 'yer jess 
 squat over dar in de sun and smell de grass and git dis 
 yar fulgence in yo ole bones and bress de missus.' It's 
 de Lo'd's trufe." 
 
 "I am glad, Uncle," said Miss Kate, "if the change
 
 THE JUDGE ALSO DANCES A MINUET 103 
 
 has improved you, but you never complained to me of 
 the other locality." 
 
 "No, Miss Kate, I didn't 'plain to de bose." 
 
 "Don't you think that I should have been consulted 
 about it?" 
 
 "Bress yer heart, honey, nobody evil-minded 'miff 
 to worry de missus when she dun got her own 
 worries." 
 
 " I am glad that you have friends who are both willing 
 and able to assist you." 
 
 "I ain't got no fren would do it, chile, if de missus 
 didn't want it. Youse my bess fren, Miss Kate, nex' 
 to de Lo'd, and I reckon de bose find it out." 
 
 "But he is not my boss, Unc'l. I did not ask him 
 to come here." 
 
 "Suah's y' liv', de Lo'd sent him. De Lo'd know 
 what dis yar place wants bettern we poor sinners can 
 tole Him." 
 
 She jumped up. "You sit still, Unc'l," she said. 
 "I'll take a look," and with that she entered the cabin 
 and surveyed it closely. "You seem to have all your 
 old things about you," she said, coming back to the door, 
 "and I suppose you will be comfortable. Where's my 
 picture that you had on the wall?" 
 
 "In de Bible, honey. De bose says: 'Don' yer nail 
 de pictur on de wall, ole man, for all de fool niggers to 
 grin at. Keep de keerd in de Bible out de light.'!' 
 
 "Are you sure you have it?" she asked, and going 
 back into the room she turned the leaves of Unc'l 
 Dan'l's well-thumbed Bible, as if suspecting some one 
 of felonious intent. 
 
 But it was there innocently enough. She shut the 
 book and came back to Unc'l Dan'l and stood there a 
 moment thinking. He had never outgrown the habit
 
 io 4 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 of addressing her as he had been permitted to do when 
 she was a childish protege* of his. 
 
 "Honey," he said, "you jes sot yesself down and tell 
 yer Unc'l what's on yer mine." 
 
 She was thinking at that moment that she might have 
 done the overseer some injustice. It was quite within 
 her privilege to thank him for what he had done and 
 then let him go away. So she sent Pierson over to the 
 stone hut to hunt him up, and then it was that Unc'l 
 Dan'l said: 
 
 "De bose dun gone." 
 
 "Gone?" 
 
 "Suah. Rode away dis yer mornin'. 'Good-by, 
 ole man,' he says; Tse goin' down to de Line to see de 
 country. Keep yer ole heart up and git well for yer 
 missus.' ' 
 
 While Miss Kate had been sitting there talking with 
 the old man, Judge Heckshent had arrived home from 
 Chambers, after a two weeks' absence. He was suffering 
 from a severe cold and looked infirm and weary as he 
 entered his home. His wife attended to his physical 
 wants with the mechanical docility of a servant, but as 
 soon as he was in his slippers, and comfortable, she began 
 with her tongue. You may believe that in very short 
 order she both wounded and astonished him. She told 
 him that the Busseys had been hoodwinking him, letting 
 him put in crops and improve the place only to get the 
 benefit of his labour. Kate Bussey was about to be 
 married and he would never have known of it until the 
 act was accomplished if his lawful wife had not gone up 
 there herself and found it out. So much for lawyer 
 smartness. "You've been a-churnin' for years," she 
 said, "and it turns out to be brook- water at last. I 
 could have told you."
 
 THE JUDGE ALSO DANCES A MINUET 105 
 
 It hurt him a little to think that Kate Bussey did not 
 inform him of such a step. He was entitled to her con- 
 fidence at least in any matter pertaining to the estate. 
 His wife had acquired the art of hurting him, and after 
 writhing awhile he got up, tired as he was, and put on 
 his boots to go up and call on Kate Bussey. He was 
 anxious to know what his indiscreet wife had said and 
 done. He toiled slowly up the wood road to the house, 
 and when he reached the porch and was coughing a 
 little from the exertion, Kate, who was coming back 
 from the interview with Unc'l Dan'l, came upon him 
 there at the steps breathing heavily. She looked at 
 his worn face, and perceiving his distress, sank in an 
 instant every feeling but one of pity, and holding out her 
 hand, she said impulsively: 
 
 "Why, Uncle Caleb, you are sick." 
 
 "I have a bad cold, that's all, my child. I thought 
 I'd walk over and see how you are all getting along." 
 
 "So good of you," she exclaimed, catching hold of 
 his arm. "Come right in and let me get you some- 
 thing to stop that cough. Aunt will be delighted to see 
 you once more." 
 
 She led him in, and with a woman's tact, instead of 
 going into the grim parlour, took him round to the more 
 comfortable family room, where the meals were usually 
 served, and then calling up the stairs to her aunt and 
 sister, she went into the kitchen and began hunting in 
 the store-closet for a bottle conserved somewhere and 
 containing about a pint of the grandmother's Madeira. 
 When at last she, with Leesha's assistance, had found 
 it, she stood a moment with it in her hand, giving way 
 to an entirely new thought that had flashed upon her 
 from that careworn face. What if Uncle Caleb should 
 die! They had never thought of that. And then
 
 106 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 out of the incredible swiftness of her thought there 
 seemed to gleam again that evil eye of Mrs. Heckshent. 
 
 There was considerable restraint and some formality 
 in the meeting of Aunt Sussex and the Judge, and if it 
 had not been for Miss Kate they would undoubtedly 
 have fallen foul of each other in the quaintest and most 
 decorous manner. She came in while her aunt was 
 courtesying and the Judge was bowing with his hand 
 on his breast in true ancient dignity, and she brushed 
 aside the rigour of affairs by saying: 
 
 "Before you do anything else, Uncle Caleb, take a 
 drink of this wine. It is some of Grandmother's that 
 is left." 
 
 And she filled a wine-glass. The Judge took it and 
 handed it to Aunt Sussex. 
 
 "Permit me, madam. I'll take a swallow, Miss 
 Kate, just to drink your healths." 
 
 Aunt Sussex did not decline the honour, although she 
 looked timidly at the bottle as if a little afraid of the 
 strain that was being put upon it, and when Kate had 
 poured another glass the Judge took it and said with 
 a courtliness which he no doubt had learned in that 
 very room: 
 
 "Your very good health, and prosperity to the house 
 of Bussey." 
 
 Aunt Sussex touched the glass with her lips and then 
 placed it on the table, feeling that she had complied 
 strictly with the demands of courtesy, and at that 
 point the interview would certainly have become stalled 
 in its stately reserve if Miss Sylvia had not burst in upon 
 it with her youthful effusiveness and rushed upon the 
 old gentleman, holding out both her hands: 
 
 "I knew you would come and see us, Uncle Caleb, if 
 we waited long enough, and we have, haven't we?"
 
 THE JUDGE ALSO DANCES A MINUET 107 
 
 "Bless my soul, Sylvia," replied the old gentleman, 
 beaming upon her with glad surprise. " Now that I see 
 you, I wonder that I have not been here before." Still 
 holding her hand and turning to Aunt Sussex, he said: 
 "How much she is growing like her cousin, Rachel 
 Bussey." 
 
 "I trust that she is, Judge," replied Aunt Sussex 
 guardedly. "Rachel Bussey would have been an 
 honour to the family had she lived." 
 
 "And so will our Sylvia, believe me. Dear me, how 
 time flies away. It seems but yesterday, my child, that 
 I carried you on my shoulder and led Folingsby by the 
 hand. We were all happy children then." 
 
 "And we can be happy yet, Uncle. Our chances are 
 not all gone, are they?" 
 
 " No, no, my dear; all chances wait upon youth. " 
 
 Aunt Sussex creaked a little as if the preliminary 
 amenities had gone far enough, and sat down with an 
 ominous rustle, whereupon the rest of the group took 
 to the chairs with a sudden solemnity and Aunt Sussex 
 opened the proceedings with a preliminary cough: 
 
 " I was going to write to you, Judge, and inform you 
 of the arrangements we had made, " she said. 
 
 "Yes," replied the Judge, "I am sorry that I did not 
 hear of them from you. " 
 
 "It was well that she did not," said Kate. "The 
 arrangements for which I alone am responsible were not 
 conclusive, and now we are afraid that they have been 
 interfered with. " 
 
 " Oh, I trust not, " said the Judge with genuine dismay. 
 "As I heard the arrangement spoken of, it seemed to me 
 to be a most desirable one for all of us, and I need not 
 say that I hoped it would be a most happy one for 
 you."
 
 io8 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 "But," exclaimed Sylvia, "Mr. Journingham has 
 been lost at sea." 
 
 And then, feeling that her directness was in some sort 
 a false note in the smooth symphony of politeness, up 
 went her hand to her mouth. 
 
 "Bless my soul, ladies," said the Judge, "you shock 
 me. Lost at sea, did you say?" 
 
 "There is no proof of it whatever," said Aunt Sussex. 
 "We are only apprehensive that he was on the Oceanica, 
 for we have not heard from him. " 
 
 "And that, " said Kate, "will show you that it was the 
 uncertainty which prevented us from letting you know. 
 We had no desire to conceal anything." 
 
 "Yes, yes, I see," said the old gentleman with ready 
 forgiveness. "Lost at sea dear me. Have you 
 written for definite information?" 
 
 "Yes," replied Aunt Sussex. "I have -of course 
 taken every means to be informed of the exact facts, and 
 pending that information we think that we are entitled 
 to know exactly what you intend to do with regard to 
 the property. I need hardly inform you, Judge, that 
 we have not been consulted in the arrangements you are 
 making." 
 
 This was ticklish ground as the Judge well knew. As 
 the representative of the reserved rights of the Bussey 
 family, Aunt Sussex was both indomitable and invincible, 
 and after many previous failures the Judge hesitated to 
 confront her again with law or logic. So he tried to 
 dodge the issue and turning to Sylvia, said: 
 
 "Pardon me a moment, ladies; isn't that your grand- 
 mother's locket that you have on your neck, Sylvia?" 
 
 "Yes, " said Sylvia promptly ; " do you remember it ? " 
 
 "Indeed I do. It had a miniature of 'Our Harry' on 
 one side and your grandmother had her own miniature
 
 THE JUDGE ALSO DANCES A MINUET 109 
 
 put in on the other. It was painted by Tom Thorpe, 
 but it never did her justice. I wish you would let me 
 look at it, my dear." 
 
 Sylvia jumped up and, coming familiarly close to him, 
 held the locket in front of his face with one hand and 
 leaned on his shoulder with the other. Aunt Sussex 
 twiddled her fingers on the table with guarded impatience 
 at the diversion and looked with significant severity at 
 Kate, very much as if she meant to say, "You see how 
 this weak old man avoids straightforward decision of 
 character." 
 
 But Kate herself was inclined to seize any diversion 
 that would take them away from the humiliating sub- 
 ject of her arrangement with Mr. Journingham, and 
 with little regard for her aunt's attitude she said: 
 
 "Father always insisted that I reminded him of that 
 picture, but that was a long time ago. " 
 
 " I wish you had some of your grandmother's decision, 
 my dear," said Aunt Sussex. "It was a peculiar trait 
 of hers to look any difficulty straight in the face. " 
 
 The Judge could not help thinking how often he had 
 heard the hope expressed, so like a family prophecy, 
 that Miss Kate was to perpetuate with her womanhood 
 all the vigorous virtues of her grandmother, and some- 
 how the handsome face in front of him, with its softer 
 lines and more mobile expression, full blown into 
 womanhood now, reminded him more of her father than 
 of the alert and commanding grandmother. 
 
 There was a noble portrait of that grandmother 
 hanging on the wall above Miss Sylvia, who was sitting 
 bolt upright in her chair with her head up and one foot 
 on the rung, as if posed for any sudden irrelevancy that 
 might offer, and a question, like a film, passed through 
 his mind, if, after all, the coming replica of the grand-
 
 no THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 mother might not be perked up there in her mousseline 
 de laine. 
 
 "Dame Bussey passed through a severe school of 
 experience," said the Judge emoliently. "I remember 
 very well the day she received this locket. It was just 
 after 'Our Harry's' defeat in '44. She wrote this 
 inscription herself and sent me with the locket to have 
 it engraved on the back. I can read it, my dear, without 
 my glasses, for it was engraved on my memory at the 
 same time: 'Not death, much less defeat, can disturb a 
 woman's fidelity.'" 
 
 This little reminiscent touch was for a moment sup- 
 pressive, but only for a moment. 
 
 "Judge," said Aunt Sussex, "now that we have an 
 opportunity to talk to you face to face, we ought to have 
 a clear understanding. As I was saying, we should 
 know just what you intend to do with the property. " 
 
 She drummed softly on the table with her mitted 
 fingers, and there was the slightest palpitation in her 
 pink cheek, but her resolution in spite of her fragility 
 was unmistakable. The Judge glanced appealingly at 
 the sisters as if they might have spared him this, and 
 Aunt Sussex proceeded, after a moment's pause which 
 nobody had the courage to break : 
 
 "You know," she said, "it would be much more 
 satisfactory to us to understand exactly what we are 
 to expect, should we have to suffer this loss of a dear 
 friend. " 
 
 "I think, my dear ladies," said the Judge, addressing 
 himself to the group generally as a precautionary 
 measure, "that I am still entitled to the consideration 
 due to a friend of the family the oldest friend of the 
 family, I may say. I hope that nothing has occurred 
 in my absence to impair your confidence in me."
 
 THE JUDGE ALSO DANCES A MINUET in 
 
 While this conversation was going on, Miss Kate 
 was giving way to an entirely new sense of pity for the 
 Judge. Her sensibilities were touched by the gentle air 
 of desolation which she detected in his tired face, nor 
 could she help thinking of that other face which had 
 made such an impression on her in the parlour. Do her 
 best, she could not recall out of the past a single instance 
 of selfishness or severity in him. She forgot Folingsby's 
 vulgarity and Mrs. Heckshent's covert threats, and 
 saw only a sick old gentleman whose face showed that 
 his life had been anything but a pleasant one and whose 
 death would make suddenly and finally unavailing 
 any more effort to save the estate. Her impulse was 
 to dismiss all other considerations and, with womanly 
 solicitude, beg him to take care of himself. She saw 
 with a quick eye that his clothing was no longer arranged 
 with the scrupulous tidiness that had once been his 
 marked peculiarity. There were evidences of neglect, 
 and his speech came slowly and guardedly, as if he were 
 somewhat tired of it all. 
 
 But Aunt Sussex, whose eyes were not so good, and 
 whose susceptibilities, perhaps, were not so acute, held 
 on her course of dignified arraignment. 
 
 "Then, of course," she said, "it is my disagreeable 
 duty to inform you that something has occurred, and it 
 is difficult for us to conceive of its having occurred with- 
 out your permission. While we were doing our best to 
 meet the responsibilities which rest upon us, a stranger 
 a rude and almost overbearing stranger intruded upon 
 us and proceeded to make the place untenantable, even 
 threatening to plow up the lawns and cut down the 
 timber." 
 
 "Why, he never did anything of the kind," exclaimed 
 Sylvia.
 
 ii2 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 The Judge looked at the young lady with a feeble 
 gleam of satisfaction, such as a lawyer would show who 
 has succeeded in confusing the witnesses. 
 
 "There isn't a word of truth in it," said Sylvia. "It 
 was just a wicked lie." 
 
 "I hope you will permit me to form my own con- 
 clusions, young woman," said Aunt Sussex. "I believe 
 I had the honour of talking to the barefaced person, and 
 a man who had so little regard for our rights and my feel- 
 ings is quite capable of a wicked lie. I think I know 
 men better than you do." 
 
 Sylvia was for a moment suppressed, but not at all 
 obliterated. She tossed her head and held herself 
 in reserve. 
 
 The Judge addressed himself to Kate with an amiable 
 disregard of Aunt Sussex that must have wounded that 
 ancient and estimable lady grievously, but she did 
 not permit him to see it. 
 
 "My dear Kate," said the Judge, twitching his neck 
 from the folds of the black kerchief, "I am afraid that 
 you will never know how painful it is to me to be con- 
 tinually misunderstood in my efforts to assist you. 
 Heaven knows I have never been able to escape from 
 the promise that I made to your dying father, nor have 
 I wished to. But it has been made very hard for me." 
 
 Miss Kate, impelled by the one impulse that had so 
 suddenly taken possession of her, gave way to an excla- 
 mation of reproach as she jumped up. 
 
 "Uncle Caleb !" she exclaimed. 
 
 He waved her back with something of kindly judicial 
 dignity. 
 
 "Pardon me, my dear listen to me a moment, I 
 beg of you." 
 
 Aunt Sussex rapped softly and nervously on the
 
 THE JUDGE ALSO DANCES A MINUET 113 
 
 table. It was plain to her that the lawyer intended to 
 dodge the issue she presented and appeal to the senti- 
 ments of her nieces, and she could not help showing her 
 contempt for the direction the conversation had taken ; 
 all of which the Judge took good care not to observe. 
 
 "Do you think," she asked, "that it is necessary, 
 Judge, to muffle the blow because we are women? We 
 are well aware that you are a creditor and that the law 
 is on your side." 
 
 "Madam," said the Judge, "I addressed myself to Miss 
 Kate because she has my promise to her father on her 
 side, and from her I was entitled to something like 
 sympathy in my endeavours to keep it. When Colonel 
 John borrowed that money from me, neither of us could 
 foresee what would happen. If I had it to do over 
 again I should act differently. At the time of that 
 transaction there was an unexpressed belief both on 
 your father's and on my side that the family interests 
 in time would be one. Although that is now an impos- 
 sibility (and here his voice wavered a little in spite of 
 him), you can see that at the time it put a different 
 face on the matter. But we need not speak of that. 
 When your father died, Miss Kate, I thought the best 
 thing would be to sell the estate. But it would not bring 
 the face of the bond at that time. Nevertheless, I 
 felt sure that with the restoration of peace and the im- 
 provement of this part of the country it would be an 
 attractive domain in the market, and that it ought to be 
 kept in condition for your sake as well as for my own. 
 No one knew better than myself that, with your gentle 
 training, you were not the one to lay hold of the difficult 
 practical problem, and I must confess that it was some- 
 what out of my line also. In that dilemma I sent for 
 a practical man, a trained, wide-awake, quick-headed
 
 ii 4 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 expert, and I put the case before him. I told him to 
 make a study of it and tell me if the property could be 
 put into shape to pay the interest and afford a com- 
 fortable living for the occupants. He surprised me by 
 his quick grasp of the difficulties, and he assured me that 
 with a moderate expenditure he could get five thousand 
 a year out of it, and I gave him clearly to understand 
 that I wanted to save the place to you before I died. 
 They train these men differently in the North. In a 
 week he had turned over every stone. ' Is it worth the 
 cost ? ' I asked him. ' Yes,' he said, ' it's the finest estate I 
 have seen in Franklin, and is worth more as a park than 
 as a farm, but I do not think the occupants care about 
 my improving it.' I did not, of course, suppose that the 
 young man would offend you and disregard your wishes. 
 He appeared to be very anxious to obtain your views. 
 Still, all that is over now, and I am able to inform you 
 that I received a letter from him this morning in which 
 he tells me that he is going away. That, I suppose, will 
 remove the last cause of irritation and matters will 
 remain where they were before." 
 
 "Did he tell you why he is going away?" asked 
 Kate. 
 
 "Do you think his reasons are of any consequence," 
 asked Aunt Sussex, "so long as he goes ?" 
 
 "It appears to me from the tenor of his letter," replied 
 the Judge, "that he thinks he can accommodate you 
 better by going." 
 
 "He is sensitive for an overseer, isn't he?" said Kate. 
 
 "Well," cried Sylvia, "why shouldn't he be, if he 
 happens to be a gentleman as well as an overseer? No 
 gentleman would stay on the place after you slammed 
 the door in his face. I'd like to be heiress of this estate 
 for a week ; I'd go after him."
 
 THE JUDGE ALSO DANCES A MINUET 115 
 
 "Hoity toity !" says my fragile little lady at the table. 
 "What you would do, my dear, can well be kept for a 
 less serious occasion." 
 
 "As he is going away," interposed the Judge, "and 
 matters remain as they were before, I think you can 
 rest easy on that score. I am getting too old to make 
 any more attempts of that kind. As we grow old, Miss 
 Kate, I think we are apt to grow indifferent. It is sad 
 to have to acknowledge it. But one cannot keep up 
 with the enthusiasm of youth, and I confess that the 
 young man's vigour and alertness began to tire me. 
 We will say that everything is where it was before he 
 came, and let us hope that we shall get word from 
 Mr. Journingham speedily." 
 
 "But Kate does not want to hear from him," 
 exclaimed Sylvia. "I should think you could see 
 that." 
 
 Here there was a little start all round the group. 
 Kate uttered a soft cry of dismay. Aunt Sussex 
 stood up and rustled ominously and the Judge looked 
 from Kate to Sylvia inquiringly. 
 
 "I think," said Aunt Sussex, "that either you or I 
 had better retire, young lady. If you will go to your 
 room, your sister and I will attend to the affairs of the 
 estate." 
 
 "I am not going to my room, aunty, and it's very mean 
 of you to treat me like a child before folks. I don't 
 believe you know what you are doing, and I don't 
 believe the old place is worth it." 
 
 The three women were all on their feet now, two of 
 them exhibiting signs of dismay and one of them stand- 
 ing under the picture, her head up, her eyes flashing and 
 her young face bearing witness to the birth of a defiant 
 will, as if, indeed, she were the sudden depository of
 
 n6 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 some quality that had dropped down upon her from her 
 ancestor. 
 
 Kate made an appeal by asking, "Syl, Syl, what are 
 you saying?" 
 
 "I am saying just what you ought to say, and you 
 know it," rejoined Sylvia. "We are nothing but three 
 helpless women, and you freeze everybody to death who 
 wants to help us. I wish I was a man yes, I do, just for 
 your sake. You shouldn't scare me into my room or 
 slam the door in my face." 
 
 With that she came upon the Judge suddenly, caught 
 his hand in both of hers, and looking at him, clear-eyed 
 and resolutely, said: 
 
 "Good-by, Uncle Caleb. You are the best friend 
 we have left and we're awful slow getting it into our 
 heads. I want you to know that I shall always think so, 
 no matter what happens." 
 
 Whereupon, out strides Miss Independence, giving 
 the door a sharp clip and leaving something like a 
 vacuum behind her, in which the Judge blew his nose 
 and seemed to be trying to recover from the effects 
 of a spontaneous burst of affection to which he was 
 unaccustomed. 
 
 "Syl is right," said Kate, trying to fill in the gap as 
 best she might. "We hope to retain you as our friend 
 no less than our legal adviser, whatever happens." 
 
 "Yes, yes," said the Judge, evidently touched. "I 
 am glad to hear you say it, and if you desire to keep the 
 management of the estate in your own hands, I think 
 perhaps it will be for the best, for I am not the man that 
 I used to be." 
 
 "Let me go down the hill with you," Kate said, when 
 he was at the door, and despite his protests, she picked 
 up a gypsy hat and accompanied him down the wood
 
 THE JUDGE ALSO DANCES A MINUET 117 
 
 road, holding his arm and noticing the uncertainty of his 
 once vigorous step. 
 
 Thus it was that the interview, like so many others 
 that had preceded it, came to naught, save that in some 
 respects it awakened an entirely new emotional relation- 
 ship between the Judge and Kate. 
 
 "You see," he said, as they went slowly down the 
 slope, "I am not as vigorous as I once was, and this 
 cold is discouraging to take such a hold of me." 
 
 "You are ill," said Kate, "and I do hope that you 
 will take care of your health. If anything should happen 
 to you, all our plans and hopes would be futile." 
 
 When they came to the highway, they stopped a 
 moment at the gate and he tried to put into a few words 
 what had been as yet unsaid: 
 
 "My wife called upon you," he said. 
 
 "Yes, she came up. I sent for her. It was to tell her 
 about the arrangement I had made." 
 
 He looked at her thoughtfully and laid his hand upon 
 hers as it rested on the rail. 
 
 "Kate," he said, "I am not going to ask you what 
 occurred, but whatever it was, I think it ought to make 
 you lenient to me." 
 
 "I understand," she said. "Let us not speak of it. 
 For the same reason, perhaps, after what has occurred 
 at the house just now, you ought to have some con- 
 sideration for me. I owe a great deal to Aunt Sussex." 
 
 "Yes, yes," he said, patting her hand, "I, too, under- 
 stand." 
 
 She tried to interrupt him, but he would not let her. 
 "Hear me a moment," he said. "I should have been 
 your adviser in this matter as well as your creditor, but 
 your aunt had her own views and you naturally listened 
 to her. I should have made plain to you long ago
 
 n8 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 that if this place comes under the hammer in spite of 
 me that is to say, if anything should happen to me 
 it ought to bring something for you as well as the 
 creditor, and the only way to insure that was to bring 
 the place up to the new market values which southern 
 property like this commands in the North. To do that 
 required the experience, the vigour and ability of 
 a younger man. You did not understand it and 
 I cannot blame you. It was my place to have 
 taken you into my confidence. I can only regret it 
 now that it is too late." 
 
 "Don't say too late; it sounds dismal." 
 
 "And yet, my dear, I feel that it is too late if Mr. Burt 
 has gone away." 
 
 "Oh, but Judge, surely we can find another man." 
 
 "I doubt if we could find another just like him. He 
 seemed to grasp all the difficulties in an instant and 
 some of them melted away in his hands. If Mr. Jour- 
 ningham had been here and had an interest in the estate, 
 I think he would have seen at once how necessary such a 
 man is to the betterment of the place. You can see 
 how distressing and disheartening it is to me to have 
 both Mr. Journingham and Mr. Burt disappear at the 
 same time. It almost makes me feel as if any further 
 effort on my part was predetermined to failure. " 
 
 "But it is not at all certain that Mr. Journingham has 
 disappeared, and if he has it does not follow that Mr. 
 Burt must. You will have to tell him to stay. " 
 
 "As I have been unable to keep him, I do not think 
 that I shall be able to make him return. I do not have 
 as much influence with people as I once had, my dear. 
 You understand he is not going away on my account. " 
 
 "Then I ought to ask him to stay. Why don't you 
 speak plainly. You know I will do as you bid me. "
 
 THE JUDGE ALSO DANCES A MINUET 119 
 
 "Isn't that a vehicle coming down the road?" he 
 asked. 
 
 "Yes," replied Kate; "it looks like your phaeton." 
 
 "Then I will go along, my dear. God bless you. I 
 will try and get up to see you again. " 
 
 "One word," she said. "You can understand how 
 disagreeable it is to me to have this Journingham matter 
 discussed. I think it would be well not to say anything 
 until we have some definite information. " 
 
 "You are quite right," he said. "We will keep our 
 own counsel. " 
 
 Then he left her. She leaned upon the gate a moment 
 and watched him as he met the phaeton. She saw it 
 turn about and the Judge walking on the side of the road. 
 She felt sure that Mrs. Heckshent was scolding him from 
 it as they went along. Then she turned and went 
 thoughtfully up the slope, stopping now and then to 
 look back as if something ominous were behind her. 
 
 The Judge walked ahead of the phaeton and entered 
 his home. It should have been inviting, for it wore all 
 the external appearances of comfort and some of the 
 added adornments of beauty. But it was not. His 
 impulse was to turn about and go away somewhere 
 rather than undergo the ordeal. He stood wearily a 
 moment at his window in musing uncertainty. The 
 afternoon sunshine of the calm summer day mellowed 
 the Bussey woods and showed the smiling slope of the 
 bluff beyond in gleaming pastoral gradients. The 
 beautiful scene had no promise in it. Its melting lines 
 and colours were to him a sad reproach as of something 
 lost. Everything in his mental experience was reminis- 
 cent. The warm glow of the visit to the old Grange was 
 somehow upon him, like the radiance on those uplands, 
 and yet it was not his.
 
 120 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 While he stood there, Mrs. Heckshent came in. He 
 did not turn from the window, but listened to her 
 helplessly. 
 
 "You'd 'a' stayed there forever, I s'pose, if you hadn't 
 seen me comin' for you. I seen you sleevin' her down 
 the hill. You can be proper sweet on them as insults 
 your lawful wife to her teeth and makes a fool of your 
 own flesh and blood. What hev I got to say about it ? 
 Well, I've got this to say about it a man o' your age 
 ought to be ashamed of himself to be sneakin' round 
 with them hussies and neglectin' his own. That's just 
 what I've got to say about it, and I don't care who hears 
 it, nuther. You mustn't think I am such a darned fool, 
 Caleb Heckshent, as to keep my mouth shet forever, 
 when it's as plain as plowin' what's goin' on." 
 
 He turned around and, walking to a chair, sat down 
 wearily, saying: 
 
 "What do you think is going on now, my dear?" 
 
 He never failed in all the buffetings of her moods to 
 call her "my dear," and she seldom failed when the 
 mood was on to convert his phrase into a boomerang. 
 
 "Oh, you needn't 'dear' me," she said. "I don't 
 want any purrin'. What I want is my rights. " 
 
 "Yes," he assented. "Have I robbed you of any of 
 them?" 
 
 "Hev you? Mebbe with your law and your stuck-up 
 friends you calkilate to treat me as if I was a fool. But 
 mebbe I can get some law of my own. You don't keep 
 it all in your buzzum, do you ? " 
 
 "Are you going to take the law in your own hands, 
 Molly?" he asked. 
 
 "It ain't all in your hands, is it? Mebbe I ain't got 
 as much law as a Jedge, but I got a son. I don't guess 
 he's a youngster forever, and he ain't jest built to see his
 
 THE JUDGE ALSO DANCES A MINUET 121 
 
 mother robbed by law while his pap's a-climbin' the hill 
 over yan. What are you goin' to do with the place? 
 Are you goin' to snatch it or let 'em keep it, seein' some 
 of it's mine by law." 
 
 "Molly," said the Judge, "let me advise you as your 
 husband to keep off the hill. There is some law that 
 will lie against even a Judge's wife for trespass and 
 mischief, and I don't want any more trouble than I can 
 bear. " 
 
 "Oh, " she said, putting her fists on her hips and giving 
 way to her Tennessee idioms. "That's where you were 
 at. You was helpin' the Busseys to take the law agin' 
 your wife. You took their wine I can smell it on you, 
 and you 'my deared' 'em and she was plum honey. 
 You daren't look me in the face. You holp her to ruin 
 your own son, who is goin' to the devil on her account 
 ever since he left the post-office, and then you put her up 
 to sass me. You won't git to do it, old man. I've got 
 Tennessee blood in me." 
 
 At that moment Folingsby came in, somewhat sneak- 
 ingly, and sat down in a corner. He had his hands 
 deep in his pockets, and he spread himself out in a chair, 
 somewhat slouchingly as was his habit, and did not 
 remove his hat, which was drawn down over his eyes. 
 His mother addressed herself to him at once. 
 
 "What did I tell you?" she said. "Your old man's 
 been up yan puttin' 'em up agin' you, 'lowin' you're not 
 good enough fer their likes and throwin' off on your old 
 mother. You're pooty bad trash, I guess, in this 
 county, with such a father." 
 
 The Judge looked at the collapsed figure sullenly 
 sprawled in the corner. Had there been the slightest 
 protest on the boy's part against this vulgar unreason 
 the old man would have warmed to him in a minute.
 
 122 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 Everything, black as it was, would have vanished in one 
 kindly filial impulse for all that the father had done. 
 
 "Do you feel that way, Folingsby?" the Judge asked, 
 in spite of his determination not to lend any fuel to a 
 futile blaze. 
 
 "Well, I guess the old woman's plum right, pap. 
 You've got the county pretty much down on me, and it 
 never was much good to me to have a Jedge for a father. 
 I guess I could have had that gal if the old woman had 
 had her way." 
 
 There was no use in appealing to such an attitude of 
 mind. There was a deep, numb consciousness in the 
 father that any attempt to reason or to explain or any 
 appeal to his affectionate nature would be like throwing 
 his heart against a stone fence. And yet, such is the 
 inscrutable unreason of the natural affections, that bind 
 up pity, aversion, shame and an inexpressible yearning 
 in one deep-lying complex, that the Judge could not 
 help putting into one tremulous phrase all that he felt. 
 
 "My son, my son," he said. "Why are you deter- 
 mined to break my poor old heart ? " 
 
 Some allowance must be made for a father. In the 
 first place, he was sick; in the second place, he could not 
 on the instant quite banish the effect of that bright, 
 resolute face that had looked up into his with a ray like 
 that of sunshine that comes to a starved seed in the 
 dark; the two soft hands in his, and the throb of genuine 
 sympathy and brave confidence from one who did not 
 belong to him, all seemed to make this incomprehensible 
 and stolid antagonism of one who did belong to him 
 and upon whom so many tender hopes had rested look 
 inexpressibly ghastly and irremediable. 
 
 "Oh, shucks," said Mrs. Heckshent; "I guess my son 
 ain't breakin' nothin'. What he wants is his own, and
 
 THE JUDGE ALSO DANCES A MINUET 123 
 
 the time's come for to speak up to it. He's gettin' tired 
 o' being the laughin' stock of the county. If there's 
 any heart to be broke, it's them as has what isn't theirs 
 and treat honest people like niggers. My son's as good 
 as the best, and he'd be the cock of the walk in Franklin 
 if 'twant for his honeyfuglin' old pap. Speak up, Folly; 
 there ain't nothin' to be afraid of." 
 
 "Them's my sentiments, pap, pretty much," said 
 Folingsby, doggedly. "I hain't had a fair shake, and 
 folks 'low it's my old man's fault. " 
 
 The Judge got up. "Molly, "he said, "I guess I'll 
 go upstairs and lie down awhile. I'm pretty much 
 tuckered. " 
 
 His wife put her back against the door. "What you 
 goin' to do with the place?" she asked. "Air you goin' 
 to let the Englishman walk off with the gal and the 
 grounds ? That's what we want to know. " 
 
 "Yes, that's the pint of order," said Folingsby with a 
 slight chuckle. 
 
 The Judge looked from one to the other and straight- 
 ened himself a little. 
 
 "My son," he said, "you are following the evil and 
 foolish advice of your mother. Let me say to you that 
 I hope and believe you will live to repent it. If you will 
 take your father's advice, you will give up the insane 
 folly of persecuting Miss Bussey with your attentions. 
 She has a right to select her own husband, and what is 
 ours will come to us. Nothing can make me take a step 
 which would interfere with her desire or that would 
 secure any dishonourable advantage for us at her cost. 
 We might as well understand each other on this point at 
 once, and I hope that I shall hear no more about it in 
 my own home. Now, let me pass, my dear. " 
 
 His wife gave him a parting shot as he went out.
 
 i2 4 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 "I might 'a' know'd it," she said. "You allers did 
 feel ashamed o' your own, and now you've said it. " 
 
 Folingsby stretched his legs, shoved his hands into his 
 pockets deeper, and with a generally collapsed air, said: 
 
 " I guess my chance is plum gone, old woman. When 
 he talks to me I feel 's if I had nigger blood in my veins. 
 She's got a right good holt of me, and it makes me 
 wicked. Durned if I ain't afeerd of myself sometimes. " 
 
 "Now, you'll go off to the Rock Yard and fill yourself 
 bilin' full," said his mother. 
 
 "Must do suthin'," he replied. "I ain't good at 
 thinkin'. " 
 
 The Judge went upstairs to his large chamber and 
 threw himself on the bed with his hands locked behind 
 his head. The irritation of the scene through which he 
 had passed was not evident. His surfaces were perhaps 
 made somewhat callous by repetition. But he was 
 suffering at the centre with a numb pain. There was a 
 tumbler of cough mixture on the table near at hand, a 
 compound of hoarhound, whisky and what Mrs. 
 Heckshent called "dry sweetenin'." He tasted it and 
 pushed it away. He was thinking, or trying to think, 
 over an old Article of Faith to which he had once given 
 a hearty consent. Somewhere and somehow in his 
 earlier life he had fallen passively into the belief that 
 love was sooner or later a conquering influence. He had 
 so read it and so heard it from the pulpit, and there was a 
 time when it had incarnated itself in a living promise. 
 Now he was asking himself how it was that love in his 
 case had given birth only to an invincible and malign 
 opposition. Could it be possible in the scheme of things 
 that if he waited a few years longer his boy would come 
 to him and say, "Father, I have sinned against heaven 
 and against thee. " How gladly would he put his arms
 
 THE JUDGE ALSO DANCES A MINUET 125 
 
 about the prodigal's neck, and forgetting everything 
 else, pull him to his heart once more with thankfulness 
 for one miserable little gleam of affection. Perhaps that 
 were worth living on for. It was not conceivable that 
 in the nature of things this could be forever denied him 
 along with all else. There would be something wrong 
 in the government of the universe if it could be so. 
 
 Presently he dozed off out of sheer fatigue and was 
 awakened by some one at the door. In the sudden 
 uncertainty he thought it was Folingsby, and half rose 
 up to meet him. 
 
 It was the Doctor. The Judge threw himself back 
 again with just the slightest indication of disappoint- 
 ment, and the little man came in fussily and chipper, 
 carrying his small pharmacy under his arm. 
 
 Doctor Dunphy, it may as well be said at once, was the 
 provincial factotum of that section of Franklin County. 
 Whatever medical science the dapper little old man 
 possessed had long since settled into the rut of every- 
 day experience and conformed itself to the unvarying 
 demands of his clientele. Thirty years of fever and 
 ague and bilious complaints had insensibly modified 
 his views both of the mystery of physical evil and the 
 breadth of the pharmacopcei, and the monotonous 
 sameness of the ills that Franklin County flesh was heir 
 to had resulted in a debonair sameness of treatment 
 that was no doubt delightful in its simplicity as it was 
 often surprisingly effective in its results. He often 
 spoke of his mission in life as being a plain-sailing and 
 humble duty it was to keep the pores and the bowels 
 of Franklin in active operation. Nature did the rest. 
 But he was apt to overlook the large influence that he 
 exerted as a circulatory medium. He went unceasingly 
 from point to point in his "shay," giving rise to lazy
 
 ia6 THE CONQUERING OP KATE 
 
 queries as to when he ate and slept, and always coming 
 freighted with the cheerful gossip that he picked up on 
 the way. Some one had likened him to the wayward 
 bee that bumbles ceaselessly from plant to plant, and 
 I dare say the similitude was apt, for the Doctor cross- 
 fertilized all the sequestered families with his tattle, and 
 left each household with new activities of gossip; and 
 in a community where there are so few centres of 
 exchange the phantom doctor's "shay" was, as one old 
 lady in her dearth expressed it, a tie that binds. 
 
 His little eyes, deep sunken in a pudgy face, that was 
 surmounted by an imposing baldness of dome and 
 flanked by short, white, flossy Episcopal whiskers, 
 twinkled authoritatively as he drew up a chair briskly 
 by the bedside and, sitting down, began to open his 
 satchel and pour some white pellets into his hand, 
 saying: 
 
 "Well, Judge, we've got you on your back at last. 
 Suppose you just swallow six grains as a preliminary 
 toner, and then we'll see what the devil you are doing 
 on your back." 
 
 The Judge waved the quinine away. "I have got a 
 severe cold that's all sat through a long case at 
 quarter sessions in wet clothes, like an idiot. If you 
 have anything in your poke, Doctor, that will make a 
 man take enough interest in himself to get well and not 
 act like a cussed fool, I wish you'd give it to me." 
 
 "Oh, ho," says the Doctor; "good enough. You've 
 come down to megrims, have you? I'll just make it 
 eight grains. Now, if you will swallow that and adjourn 
 the court, or else let me be the presiding judge, we shall 
 get along very nicely." 
 
 But the Judge did not swallow the quinine, and the 
 Doctor, getting hold of his wrist, chatted away as he
 
 THE JUDGE ALSO DANCES A MINUET 127 
 
 held it. "Pretty lively pace, that, my old friend." 
 And he began feeling in his satchel with the other hand 
 for a Dover's powder. "I guess we can pull you out 
 without any great tug. A good ten-hours' sleep, and 
 a little light nourishment, don't you know, and a clean 
 conscience, and there you are again, as right as a trivet." 
 
 He got up, lifted his satchel to the table and began 
 fumbling, going over to the door and calling loudly for 
 a pitcher of water and a glass, and keeping up his 
 buz-buz. 
 
 "That Gum Valley Railroad, I s'pose you know, has 
 broken ground. It's going to lift things hereabout. 
 Ought to bring that Bussey property into the market. 
 S'pose you don't see much of your neighbours on the hill. 
 I did hear there was going to be a wedding up there. 
 No signs of a chill, I suppose?" 
 
 "No," said the Judge. 
 
 "Well, I suppose that our old friend Seton up to the 
 Yards will have a shake if the Busseys manage to keep 
 hold of the old place. He's had his sly eye on it a long 
 time, and he's one of the directors of the Gum Valley 
 road." 
 
 "Yes, I know," said the Judge. 
 
 "Pretty close-mouthed old fox, Judge. But his fore- 
 man, Jake Bissel, was thrown down last week with a 
 bad scalp wound premature explosion, I believe. It 
 took me an hour to pick the quartz out of his skull. 
 When I got him patched up he began to talk, and what 
 with his wife's help and her tongue goes like a dog's 
 tail I came to the conclusion that Seton calculated to 
 have the place sooner or later. You see, he wants a 
 single track from the Yards to the Branch to haul his 
 stone instead of truckin' it, and that plateau between 
 the bluff and the eastern slope invites staking out. All
 
 128 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 he'd have to do would be to follow the river and do a 
 little trestling at the wet- meadows, and I suppose he'd 
 make the stockholders at the Branch pay for it. It 
 would be a big thing, Judge, for our natural resources, 
 and he wouldn't have to drive his mules three miles 
 round about." 
 
 "He will have to drive his mules over me first," said 
 the Judge. "Don't you forget that." 
 
 "That's what I said to myself, Judge," replied the 
 Doctor, tinkling a spoon in the glass. " Only it wouldn't 
 be so hard for him to drive over your grave as over a 
 live Heckshent. Don't you think you'd better take 
 the eight grains?" 
 
 " Give them to me," said the Judge. 
 
 "That's right," observed the Doctor; "there's a good 
 deal of lively encouragement in eight grains."
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 THE WITCH'S RUN 
 
 NEARLY two miles north of the Bussey estate rose 
 gently the mountain road on the Round Top hill into 
 which the Tuscarora Quarries had eaten their way, 
 leaving a great raw exposure of gray stone. The 
 romantic wildness increased as one climbed the ascent 
 over a roadway, cut into furrows by the mules and in 
 places wholly embowered by the dense timber. 
 
 Round about the quarry itself there was a settlement 
 made up of the one commodious mansion of Captain 
 Eric Seton, a little apart on a plateau of its own, and 
 the ruder huts and cabins of the hundred workmen, 
 interspersed by mule-sheds and one or two boarding- 
 houses, making a fringe of village life whose homeliness 
 was softened and half-hidden by the luxuriant kindli- 
 ness of Nature herself. In the centre of all, the gray 
 rocks gleamed in the sun with their ledges and strata, 
 overtopped by a dark forest and interminable under- 
 brush, out of which there sometimes dropped down 
 upon the benches of granite where the picks and derricks 
 were at work a writhing rattler dislodged by a blast. 
 
 Over the crest of the hill toward the north a meager 
 and less-traveled road wound down westward through 
 the gums and scrub oak and wild flowers, in tortuous 
 narrowness, to one of those shut-in glens with a natural 
 campus that Nature stows away out of the line of travel 
 in all her mountains, but has nowhere, save perhaps in 
 
 129
 
 i 3 o THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 some of her Alpine nooks, so lavished her wealth of 
 colour and curvature and her perennial delight of sweet 
 water was here. The bulks of the surrounding hills came 
 convergingly down to a circular plain half a mile broad, 
 through which the Kitchomony, tired of its gallopade 
 over brinks and boulders, spread itself out in a blue 
 lagoon, as if to rest, and in which the hills and outlying 
 peaks were never tired of looking at themselves. 
 
 Here on what must have once been a bottom land 
 but was now a dry level plain, interlaced with blue grass 
 and wild roses, festooned by bright green alders and 
 cunningly landlocked by receding forests, had been the 
 historic meeting place of the savage, and later of the 
 pioneers who were to scale mountains and go down 
 into the dark and bloody ground of Kentucky. Why 
 it was called the Witch's Run it would not benefit us to 
 inquire, especially as the later civilization in its abrasion 
 was content to know the place as The Run. Here it was 
 that Logan had whetted his knife on the boulder still 
 sticking out of the laurel and crab-grass, and here he had 
 thrown the white sand of the Kitchomony into the air 
 as a defiant symbol of his undying vengeance on the 
 white man. Here, too, came later with the opening 
 century those stalwart itinerants who called the scat- 
 tered mountaineers together with a horn and held their 
 riotous bush meetings while the "b'ars" and cata- 
 mounts were still lurking on the edges of the camp. 
 
 The Run was about a mile from the Quarries, and 
 midway between them on the descending road there 
 were clustered two or three rude houses on a shelf that 
 looked down upon the green circus beneath and into its 
 stretch of mirroring water. The Quarries, like a little 
 army, had their camp followers, and they were kept at 
 a respectable distance by the regulations. An old
 
 THE WITCH'S RUN 131 
 
 Tennessee moonshiner, dimly preserved to us in tradi- 
 tion as Baldy Turck, had built the oldest of these cabins 
 of logs when Harrison was fighting the battle of Tippe- 
 canoe. In it Asbury had eaten ash cake, venison and 
 wild honey and slept soundly under the hospitality of 
 the old sinner. It was now patched and refashioned 
 into roomy ugliness, and one had to hunt carefully 
 about the kitchen to find the remnants of the original 
 logs. But the descendants of Baldy still held the place, 
 and in it perpetuated most of his iniquities, and, perhaps, 
 some of his hardy virtues. 
 
 Captain Seton had, once or twice, tried to root the 
 place out. His motives were purely economic, and, 
 not being muddled by any moral considerations, were 
 futile. The Shelf, as it was called, interfered very often 
 with his contracts, but it was the only resort his rough 
 men had, and he came in time to regard it with necessi- 
 tous tolerance. It possessed peculiar attractions for 
 his men at all times, but never so enticingly as just after 
 the monthly pay-day. They could not only gamble 
 away their wages and drink poor whisky to their hearts' 
 content, undisturbed by any conventional restrictions, 
 at the Shelf, but they could stand off and shoot at each 
 other in the plain below when the code of alcoholism 
 demanded it, and try to break each other's backs on 
 the wrestling-ground when there was a chivalrous dif- 
 ference of opinion with regard to "the gals" or there 
 had been some irregularities in "keerds." Sometimes 
 the deputy sheriff of Franklin arrived at the Shelf with 
 seven-shooters in his pockets and was politely "wanting 
 some one." Then the outlying alleys and hiding places 
 of the mountains known only to the Shelf were like a 
 continual guarantee. 
 
 It was at The Run that the abeyant animal life of the
 
 i 3 2 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 Quarries expended itself in play, which, although it was 
 often coarse, was not always violent. Oftener it was 
 a wild but innocent debauch of sheer vitality in which 
 the long-curbed impulses and passions of men exulted 
 in noisy freedom and action. Then there was a strange 
 picturesqueness given to the levels of The Run. They 
 raced their horses at daredevil speed, jumping the 
 brush and screeching like Indians, or they danced with 
 the maenads in the moonlight, tumultuous and lusty 
 dances that were tests of endurance and resistance, and 
 to which they furnished a music of their own in uncouth 
 songs when there was no nigger with a fiddle or a banjo. 
 You must recall to mind the demi-savage that the 
 outskirts of civilization furnished as the savage himself 
 receded. The transition was gradual, and some of the 
 intermediate natures still lingered among the moun- 
 tains of Pennsylvania no less than of Tennessee, inherit- 
 ing, it would seem, the dominating persistency of one 
 race and something of the superstition and woodcraft 
 of the other. You must remember this, I say, to look 
 with any measure of allowance into the paganism of The 
 Run. The men who made up Captain Seton's colony 
 were as yet drawn from the wilderness itself in most 
 part. Long, lank, sinewy, remnants of a pioneer age, 
 tougher than the hickory they bent and hewed ; ignorant 
 as the vagrants of the forest always are and defiant of 
 anything like systematic restriction, but withal possess- 
 ing some kind of fealty to a code of their own, and as 
 tenacious of their wrongs as a Corsican. Their sport 
 would not be comprehended by us. It often led them 
 in sheer playfulness to put a black racer in a girl's bed, 
 or drop a milk snake down her neck, or wheedle a 
 stranger to sit down on a nest of yellow- jackets. But 
 they had a keen sense of their national birthright as
 
 THE WITCH'S RUN 133 
 
 Americans, and their fathers had boasted of being 
 Yanks in contradistinction to all "furriners." But the 
 Civil War had made the Yanks sectional and the word 
 "Natyve" had superseded it. 
 
 Old Baldy Turck's cabin stood by the roadside, a 
 long, sprawling, shed-like structure half hidden by the 
 wild rhododendrons, dogwood and laurel. In its one 
 big room with its floor of hewn boards, flaring fireplace 
 and smoky walls the choice spirits of the "rock yards" 
 found such conviviality and companionship as their 
 natures demanded and as could be furnished by the 
 gathering maenads of the little colony. Two of Baldy 
 Turck's granddaughters, with their mother and brother, 
 held the place with no other than the rights of ancient 
 squatter sovereignty which in early times had its com- 
 mon law hereditaments that were afterward superseded 
 but were never voluntarily relinquished. The two 
 girls, Tansy and Suke, were able to drink their whisky 
 like men, and could dance more than one man off his feet 
 in a Virginia reel. As for the mother, she was a scarred 
 and reticent memorial with one eye (she had lost the 
 other when eighteen by a blow from her father), and 
 presided in the chimney-corner with cyclopean majesty 
 and a dipping-stick. She never had been known to be 
 without a barrel of whisky under the trap in the kitchen, 
 and was suspected of having a stockingful of shillings 
 and Mexican dollars under the hearth where she planted 
 her two broad feet every evening and watched the 
 gambling and "sparking" without a flutter, not even 
 a free fight sufficing to perturb her any more than to ask 
 of her son, Lunt, when it was finished out on the road, 
 "Who crowed, Sonny?" and when he replied, "Who 
 ginerally crows, mammy, on this clearin' ?" she went on 
 with her dipping. But if, as on some occasions, the
 
 i 3 4 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 company's hilarity rose to a predatory height, and it 
 was proposed to raid the whisky barrel and dispense 
 with any further score, she took down Baldy's old 
 double-barreled gun from the crooknecks, planted 
 herself on the trap, and glaring at the turbulent roys- 
 terers with her one eye, said: 
 
 "Less see the varmint that ken take Jan Turck's 
 whisky thoutin pay." 
 
 Then they saluted her with gusts of ribald laughter. 
 But they respected her " bar'l." 
 
 Each season had its appropriate banquet in that 
 room. There were " 'possum and coon roasts," "water- 
 million feeds," and "corn bilin's," at all of which the 
 only liquid furnished came from the staunch "bar'l" 
 under the trap. Sometimes, during the summer nights 
 when the whisky and the dance drove them to maniac 
 excess, they broke loose with a common impulse from the 
 fumes of plug tobacco and tallow candles and, streaming 
 out into the moonlight, leaped over the Shelf and went 
 headlong down to the level, to fling themselves into the 
 cool silver lagoon, the women tearing off everything 
 but their tow petticoats and the men wearing only their 
 butternut trowsers rolled up to their thighs. Then they 
 gave themselves up to rude sport, clawing and mauling 
 each other like carnivora at play, but curiously safe- 
 guarded by the free flow of animal volitions, unim- 
 periled by any imagination and that expended themselves 
 in vociferous and joyous action; and then the women 
 crept back to their bunks and the men dropped down 
 on the sandy reaches amid the crab-grass to sleep off 
 the rest of it till Captain Seton's overseer came riding 
 down in the morning with a dog-whip to coax them 
 back to their mule teams. 
 
 Folingsby rode up to the entranceway of the Turck
 
 THE WITCH'S RUN 135 
 
 house just as the declining sun was rimming the slopes 
 on the other side of The Run with a transient glory. He 
 turned in, led his horse to a shed, and came back to the 
 porch. Suke opened the door and came out to meet him. 
 
 "Don't yer go in thar," she said. "Lunt's ugly," and 
 she caught him in her vigorous way by the arm. "Come 
 down the bank," she said, "I wantter chin y'r." 
 
 He pulled his arm away rather viciously. "Lunt 
 aint afeerd o' me. I want a drink," he said. 
 
 She drew back a little and towered above him with 
 unconscious stateliness, her black hair, flowing back 
 unkempt from her swart face, and bound only with a 
 string, tumbling down her back. Her long arms, 
 uncovered to the shoulder, massive and strong, were 
 half drawn up in suspense. 
 
 "What ails y'r?" she asked. 
 
 "I don't like to be pushed, and I want a drink." 
 
 With that he shoved past her and went into the house. 
 Lunt was sprawled on a wooden trestle and the old 
 woman sat in the fireless chimney-corner, dipping. 
 
 "Gimme some liquor, Mam, and take my chalks 
 down. There's some paper that talks." 
 
 He gave her a bill, one of the greenbacks then so 
 plentiful. She took it without noticing the lordly airs 
 he put on, held it up to her one eye and growled : 
 
 "I likes money I kin bite." 
 
 But she put it down in her long pocket carefully and 
 one of the girls brought a bottle and glasses. It was 
 very apparent that Folingsby was in the habit of assum- 
 ing slightly proprietary airs in the place. 
 
 "All round," he said, looking at Lunt. "You can 
 swallow your grudge, can't you?" 
 
 "Likker 'd make mine wuss, I guess. I don' swaller 
 so easy as y'r."
 
 136 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 They had had, a few days before, what at The Run 
 was called a falling out. They were on the track with 
 their horses; words had passed, and Lunt had picked 
 up a stone and thrown it at Folingsby, whereupon the 
 young man had whipped out a pistol quickly and fired 
 at his antagonist. Nothing daunted, Lunt picked up 
 another stone and struck Folingsby in the pistol arm, 
 but the weapon was changed to the other hand and 
 fired again. After two bullets had whistled past Lunt's 
 head, he hesitated a moment, as if measuring the chances, 
 and then walked away. The conversation came back 
 to that vital point: 
 
 "What did you draw a rock, on me for?" asked 
 Folingsby. 
 
 "So you cud stay to hum and nurse y'r arm." 
 
 "Well, I didn't hunt a hole, did I ?" 
 
 "No. Y'r got sand nuff when ye've got a gun, er 
 y'r wouldn't come up here." 
 
 "Well, I'm comin' up, Buckey, but it ain't to see you. 
 I heard there was a corn-bilin' here to-night and I 
 guessed you might be bilin', too. I ain't missin' fun on 
 account of rocks." 
 
 Folingsby then drank his liquor like a major, and one 
 of the strapping girls opened the door wide. As he set 
 his glass down and turned round to see what was going 
 on, Suke put her hands on his shoulders suddenly and 
 pushed him out, following him upon the porch, while 
 her sister slammed the door. With the obstinacy of his 
 kind, he instantly made an effort to get past the girl and 
 reenter, but she put her long arms across the doorway 
 and gave him to understand that it was impossible. 
 
 "Talk squar," she said; "what'd y'r come fer ?" 
 
 " 'Cause I'm ugly," he replied, with a defiant sulkiness. 
 
 "Git y'r horse and go back," said the girl.
 
 THE WITCH'S RUN 137 
 
 She had a rude sententiousness that was direct, 
 like her actions. "You'll make trouble for us 
 all with the Squire. Come away," she said, "and I'll 
 tell y'r." 
 
 She caught hold of him again and pulled him away 
 from the house in the direction of the Shelf, and there 
 they sat down in the twilight reflected from the hills. 
 She put her two elbows on her knees, and with her black 
 hair tumbling over the two hands that held her face, 
 she looked at him closely and inquiringly. 
 
 "What'd he rock y'r fer ?" 
 
 "Thought I'd peter, but I stud." 
 
 "He 'lows y'r mean and don't talk squar to me. He's 
 one of we-uns. Talk squar to me now." 
 
 "What for? Maybe you'd like to draw a rock on me, 
 too. You're all of one bilin'." 
 
 He dropped easily enough to her vernacular, but there 
 was something in the close swart face staring at him 
 with that unfaltering open-eyed gaze that discomfited 
 him, and when he was discomfited he was apt to be 
 irascibly defiant. 
 
 "Ye'r tired of me," she said. "You-uns git tired 
 I've heerd it. Lunt knows it. Say suthin', fer Gourd's 
 sake." 
 
 He might have said something. It was his rash 
 impulse to blurt the truth when it was meanest. He 
 might have told her that he had come suddenly to the end 
 of a piece of insensate folly; that her lusty femininity 
 had worn out its charm ; that he had fooled away half a 
 year in a reckless dishonesty of purpose, encountering 
 in that strange, fecund soil mysterious and dangerous 
 passions, and now he was sick of it all. To have said 
 this required a candour and bravery that were not in him. 
 His pusillanimity when held up before him always
 
 138 
 
 accommodated itself to his habit of reversion and looked 
 like a wrong put upon him. 
 
 " Shucks," he said. "I'm only one kernel in the heap: 
 you've lots of 'em. One don't count much more or less 
 with you-uns." 
 
 It was interesting to see this rough diamond of a girl 
 trying with her limited faculties to comprehend the 
 brutal effrontery which her woman's nature appre- 
 hended. She had no sensibilities to be hurt at the insult 
 implied in his speech, but there was a deeper nature 
 that could be wounded by his recreancy. Some kind of 
 noise in the shed where he had put his horse made them 
 both listen. 
 
 "He'll hamstring my pony," said Folingsby. "Damn 
 him ! " 
 
 "You set there," she said. "I'll look," and springing 
 up she went to the shed. He watched her figure in the 
 pink twilight. She was as lithe as a tigress. Her 
 swelling flanks and rounded torso moved with the 
 sinuous voluptuousness of the Felidas, and her bare feet 
 and round ankles gleamed a moment in the rosy light as 
 she snatched up her tow frock and bounded over to the 
 shed. It was indicative of his sex development that her 
 quantitative attractions softened his acerbity, and he 
 wondered if she might not be plum right enough if she 
 only had on a white frock and stockings and could sit 
 on a porch with her hair done up and a white field-flower 
 in her bosom. 
 
 When she came back with her black mane 
 streaming behind her and sat down again, it was 
 to resume the inquisitive stare where it had been 
 broken off. 
 
 "Youse are meaner sperreted than we-uns," she said. 
 "Lunt couldn't calkilate to hurt a horse."
 
 THE WITCH'S RUN 139 
 
 "Suke," he said coaxingly, "we're friends, anyhow. 
 Let me tie your hair up on your head." 
 
 "My ha'r's plum good miff and frens is accordin'." 
 
 "According to what? Don't be pesky. Let's go in 
 and disremember. What you stare at me that way 
 for?". 
 
 "Want to diskiver what we're comin' at. You made 
 it different from the heap of 'em. Speak squar to me. 
 Whar be I at ? I never had a dumb ager, but I hear'n 
 tell, an' it's like it in my buzzum now." 
 
 "Don't be a fool, Suke. Young un's can have their 
 foolin', can't they? What's the use of bein' grumps 
 with me? I had only one drink. Less make up all 
 round. I'm fer the bilin' to-night and the shake-down." 
 
 "You set still," she said, "and tell me. Y'r differn't 
 from tothers. Good Gourd, you dun gone and made 
 it differn't. 'Twant me. Did you mean't squar? 
 Mebbe y'r calkilate I'm a darned fool coz I can't read 
 after a book, and my pelt sticks outen my old frock, 
 but ye didn't talk it fer half a year. I heerd you wuz 
 a-fixin' to go me shet. Mebbe you calkilate Baldy 
 Turck's family don't know a squar thing coz they can't 
 read it after a book." 
 
 Then he played his masculine card of evasive pacifi- 
 cation. He pulled her big warm hand toward him, 
 lolled over on the bank toward her and tried to cajole 
 her. 
 
 "What's the use of bein' mad fer nothin' ?" he said. 
 "I don't calculate to go shut of you, but I can't do things 
 all to once, can I? Be decent. I always 'lowed you 
 was the prettiest girl in Franklin, and if I could do as 
 
 I pleased " 
 
 r "What'd y'r do?" she asked. 
 
 He had pulled her mane of black hair round upon his
 
 i 4 o THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 arm and was running his hand through its magnetic 
 meshes. She was passive, as if the contact soothed her, 
 but there was a staring inquiry in her dark eyes, like that 
 questioning of an instinct that one sometimes sees in 
 a noble brute's. Her ignorance of herself had a passive 
 pathos as she tried to unravel and understand her own 
 emotions, but he was entirely oblivious of it. 
 
 "I'd buy you store clothes," he said. "Heaps, yes I 
 would, and shiny shoes, and have a nigger waitin' on 
 you, and have your picter taken with your hair done up." 
 
 She pulled her hair from him with a sudden toss of 
 her head and pushed his arm away. It was an auto- 
 matic recognition of the utter inadequacy of his answer. 
 But she still stared at him with a wide, open, perplexed 
 candour. 
 
 "What makes you so bilious with me?" he asked. 
 "Who's the skunk that told you I wanted to get shut ?" 
 
 "It wuz yer old man, "she said slowly, concentrating 
 her gaze as if to catch whatever effect her words might 
 have. 
 
 "What! " he exclaimed, jumping up. "You seen 
 the Judge?" 
 
 "Sartin' sure," she replied. "I seen him. Air y'r 
 scared?" 
 
 He let out an oath between his teeth and turned 
 to go. 
 
 "Whar y'r goin'?" she asked. 
 
 "Goin' to get my horse. You and your brother can 
 hev it your own way. I'm shet. " 
 
 "Be y'r?" she cried, and springing like a panther, 
 she came at him, uttering some kind of an animal sound 
 between her teeth. So fierce was the sudden resolution 
 of all her uncertainty into something like explosive 
 action that she covered the space between them with a
 
 THE WITCH'S RUN 141 
 
 bound, and projected herself upon him with a wild, 
 meaningless shove, as if she meant to end her own per- 
 plexities in an impulse and hurl him and the whole 
 problem down the Shelf. 
 
 Nimble as he was, the impact took him unaware, and 
 he fell headlong as if she had been a catapult, striking 
 his head upon a projecting stone. He may have been 
 slightly stunned. He may only have preserved his 
 craft in spite of the surprise, but he put his hand to his 
 head and groaned without attempting to rise. 
 
 She stood a moment half bent over him, as if aston- 
 ished at her own violence. But the impelling forces 
 having expended themselves, the revulsion was as swift 
 and irrational. Dropping upon her knees beside him, 
 she thrust her bare arm under his neck and, lifting his 
 head tenderly, her black hair falling tumultuously all 
 about him, she said wiuh something like a hot, passionate 
 moan: 
 
 "Fol, Fol, I swar to Gourd I didn't mean to. You 
 be n't a pesky mean liar, be y'r, be y'r ? I didn't go fer 
 to do it. Honest Injun, Fol." 
 
 She pressed his head up against her bosom and 
 brushed the hair from his forehead softly, hugging him 
 with the involuntary zest that a child gives to a doll. 
 The next moment she had let his head fall with sudden 
 disregard, and jumping to her feet, strode off to the edge 
 of the Shelf, where she stood with her fists clenched, 
 stamping and staring down into The Run with big, wet, 
 wondering eyes. It is with such elementary forces, not 
 yet arrived at an understanding of themselves, that men 
 sometimes play as with hidden fires. 
 
 Folingsby picked himself up, shook himself as a dog 
 might, and brushed with his hand some of the dirt from 
 his clothes. Then he strode off indifferently toward the
 
 i 4 2 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 shed. But something in his stubborn and reckless 
 nature changed his purpose and deflected his course. 
 He turned to the house to reenter. In an instant the 
 girl was close beside him again and had her clutch upon 
 him. 
 
 " Ef y'r goin' fer to stop, " she said, "gimme the gun. " 
 
 He looked at her with a cool, measuring contempt 
 that hurt her strangely. 
 
 "Will you tell me what you said to the Judge?" he 
 asked. 
 
 "Gimme the gun," she said, "and I'll tell y'r when 
 they're gone. I hev to." 
 
 Then he pulled out the pistol from his pocket and 
 gave it to her. 
 
 "I'll stop, and find out where I'm at myself, " he said, 
 as he pushed by her somewhat rudely and went into the 
 house.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 GOSSAMER TRIFLES 
 
 Miss KATE BUSSEY, sitting in a morning wrap at the 
 piano in the dusky parlour, was indifferently feeling 
 after some strains of an old song. It sounded now and 
 then like "The Banks of the Blue Moselle." Her sister 
 Sylvia was standing on a chair at the window trying to 
 coax the newly washed lace curtains into fresh lines of 
 grace. 
 
 "If you really want to know what I think," Sylvia 
 said, " I will tell you. We are behaving like two prison- 
 ers who have too much pride to walk out of an open 
 dungeon. It's flying in the face of Heaven." 
 
 " How is it ? " asked Kate, still lingering on "The Banks 
 of the Blue Moselle" and not even turning round. 
 "We cannot fly in the face of anything if we do not even 
 walk out." 
 
 To disregard her feelings and perch thus meanly upon 
 her rhetoric aggravated Sylvia at once. She gave the 
 curtains a little vicious shake. "Stop playing that 
 piano," she cried; "it is so out of tune that it sets my 
 teeth on edge. " But Kate's ringers, slipping softly over 
 the keys, insisted on finishing the strain and seemed to 
 be whispering: 
 
 " Yes, there I'll soothe thy griefs to rest, 
 Each sigh of sorrow quell, 
 In the starry light of a summer night 
 On the banks of the blue Moselle." 
 
 143
 
 144 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 and then, turning her face half round, she said, as if 
 keeping time still to the old song: 
 
 "Do you think it is the piano, dear? What has 
 come over you this morning?" 
 
 Sylvia jumped from the chair and assumed an air 
 of disappointment. "I am tired of trying to make old 
 things look like new. I'd just like to pack my trunk 
 if I had anything to pack and start somewhere, any- 
 where, so that I could feel myself moving on with the 
 rest of the world. It makes me feel like a tramp, and if I 
 only had a pair of stout shoes I'd start this blessed 
 minute. Look at my slippers. Do you know what 
 they call this place over at the "Quarries"? She 
 dropped her voice to an ominous whisper "'The Old 
 Maids' Paradise' yes they do. Heavens, Kate, every- 
 thing in the world is hurrying on, and I suppose we are, 
 too, without knowing it. I don't wonder the Judge is 
 discouraged it's enough to discourage an archangel." 
 
 Having delivered this girlish broadside, she made a 
 dash at her sister, wound her arm about her, and off 
 went her impulse in another direction. 
 
 " Dear, " she said, "there is no reason in the world why 
 you and I should fight the inevitable just for the satis- 
 faction of dying by inches. I should think you could 
 feel it as I do, when the whole world calls to us as it does 
 this morning. It is defying Heaven to shut ourselves up 
 here and warn everybody away, while the rest of the 
 world is fighting and working and singing, trying to be 
 something and do something. " 
 
 It was pretty to see the growing unlikeness of tempera- 
 ments in these two women melt their sharp corners in an 
 affection that was like sunshine. One of them had 
 abandoned the window curtains, as if tired of the utili- 
 ties, and the other had left the banks of the blue Moselle,
 
 GOSSAMER TRIFLES 145 
 
 and together they slipped into the bay and stood 
 entwined in the flickering light, not unlike the rose-vine 
 and scarlet runner that leaned together from opposite 
 sides of the sash beyond. 
 
 "You make it sound as if I stood in the way of your 
 happiness," said Kate, "and you forget that I was will- 
 ing to do anything to insure it. " 
 
 "By sacrificing yourself!" exclaimed Sylvia. "Do 
 you think that is the way to go about it? Heaven be 
 praised, it didn't work." 
 
 Kate put her hand over her sister's mouth her arm 
 was around Sylvia's neck and it was easy to do it; 
 besides, she kissed her on the forehead in a soft suppres- 
 sive way, and the double act of tenderness ought to 
 have silenced anything except ingenuous impulse once 
 started on a gallopade. 
 
 " I cannot tear up the roots of my affection for the old 
 place so easily," said Kate. "It seems to me as if I 
 were under bonds." 
 
 "Bonds and mortgage you ought to be correct, 
 my dear. When you speak about being under it, you 
 talk like a toad under a harrow, without spirit enough 
 to hop out." 
 
 "Yes," replied Kate, "it is always so easy to run 
 away, and sometimes it is cowardly." 
 
 At this the younger sister perked herself into a new 
 attitude. "Well, if you will tell me of any duty which 
 you can perform by staying here, and show me that there 
 is the least chance of performing it, then I will roll up 
 my sleeves and stay with you and we'll die claws up. I 
 don't believe you listened to what the Judge said. It 
 sounded like a sentence to me. We have driven away 
 all the help that came to us, and the only hope of getting 
 it back is to go away ourselves. "
 
 i 4 6 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 "Yes, I did listen to him, and he said it was too 
 late." 
 
 "He said," retorted Sylvia, "that his endeavours to 
 save the estate had been thwarted. The overseer 
 person went away because you did not want him here 
 and Aunt Sussex virtually ordered him off the place. 
 Don't you see that if we go away he may come back, 
 and he and the Judge can fix up matters without our 
 interference? It's easy. All you will have to do is to 
 pack your trunk you have something to pack now 
 and I will help you. " 
 
 But Kate did not look at it exactly that way. 
 
 " If I were the cause of his going away, it seems to me," 
 she said, "that the least I can do is to bring him back 
 if possible. But I fancy he is a very vindictive as well 
 as a very sensitive person. I wonder if it would please 
 the Judge if I wrote a note of apology and gave some 
 instructions to the person before I went away." 
 
 Then Sylvia laughed outright. "If you are going 
 to give more instructions," she said, "let Aunty do it. 
 She has a finer air of authority and she did it so well 
 before. It just amounts to this, dear do you want the 
 man back ? If you don't, I wouldn't bother with letters. 
 Let him go his way and we'll all settle back into our old 
 tune." 
 
 "I want to do what is best for the place," replied 
 Kate. "You do not seem to help me much. " 
 
 "Do you know why I'm not a man. I'm only 
 
 what dear old grandma used to call a chit. But even 
 a chit with its eyes open could see from the very start 
 that what this place needed above all else was a man, 
 and when he arrived, as if Heaven-sent, we all turned 
 our backs on him." 
 
 "Very well," said Kate. "To relieve your mind I
 
 GOSSAMER TRIFLES 147 
 
 will write him a note, if you will let me have some of 
 your letter paper. 
 
 When the preparations were all complete they sat 
 down together and in solemn consultation, after many 
 experiments, succeeded in accomplishing the following 
 compromise: 
 
 " Miss Kate Bussey desires to express to Mr. John 
 Burt her regrets at having misunderstood his intentions 
 and for having perhaps undervalued his abilities. If 
 Mr. Burt will call at the Grange, Miss Bussey will 
 explain more definitely what seems to be called for in 
 justice and courtesy." 
 
 Then Penelly broke in upon them and she and Sylvia 
 went off together. 
 
 While this was going on in the Bussey mansion and 
 Aunt Sussex Bussey was writing letters to New York 
 and Washington to get, if possible, upon the trail of the 
 lost Mr. Journingham, another order of scene was dis- 
 closing itself at the Bass wood Spring. Mr. John Burt 
 and his friend, Tony Brahm, rode up to the stone hut 
 looking like hunters returned from a long chase, hungry 
 and dust-covered but exultant and loud withal. The 
 same morning sunshine that danced over the two women 
 standing in the bay sparkled and flashed about these 
 two men. The same dewy gladness extended from the 
 silent mansion to the noisy group, and so far as environ- 
 ment could effect anything everybody should have been 
 under the same spell. But these men were for the time 
 being quite oblivious of the spell. What with the shout- 
 ing of Tony, the barking of dogs, the stamping of horses 
 and the scurrying of niggers, there was an unusual air 
 of riotousness about the place, to which Corn was add-
 
 i 4 8 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 ing a rhythmic blazon somewhere in the trees. So 
 clamorous and unusual was it that Unc'l Dan'l, who had 
 been "bressing de Lo'd" and listening to the "plunky- 
 plunk " of the banjo, as if it were an answer to prayer, 
 poked his white-and-black head out of his door to see 
 what had broken loose. For three days the place had 
 been given over to its drowsy natural disturbances and 
 to Corn's banjo accompanied by his lusty voice singing 
 an old melody, the refrain of which ran : 
 
 "Beautiful niggers away, 
 Crows go to sleep when the day comes on 
 Beautiful niggers away." 
 
 "Put that infernal thing up!" shouted Tony, "you 
 confounded, copper-headed cynocephalus, and get up 
 something to eat before I murder you. Soul of my life, 
 I feel as if my lumbar region had been trodden by a 
 caravan. How far was it that last stretch?" 
 
 " Not more than ten or twelve miles, " said John Burt. 
 "Look here I seem to have struck it fat, as they say," 
 and he began turning over his letters at the table. 
 
 " If it is really momentous, " cried Tony, fixing himself 
 in the rocker, "why not keep it till we are replenished? 
 I tell you plainly I have no resisting power at present. " 
 
 His companion gave no heed to him, but strode about 
 with an open letter in his hand. "You listen to this," 
 he cried, "because I must take it at the flood. " 
 
 "Very well; you will not mind if I throw a handker- 
 chief over my head," said Tony, "if I must concentrate 
 my faculties, on an empty stomach besides, there's a 
 
 d d hornet sailing about. Now go it, but do tell 
 
 that nigger of yours to expedite the vulgar necessities, 
 as you love me. " 
 
 The appeal was disregarded like the protest. Waving 
 his letter, John Burt went on :
 
 GOSSAMER TRIFLES 149 
 
 "Yes, by all the supernaturals, I have been wondering 
 what shape my good luck would assume if it ever materi- 
 alized, and what do you think it is? My guardian 
 uncle tells me it is Wood-Pulp. You don't happen to 
 know anything about wood-pulp, do you, old boy?" 
 
 "Oh, keep it, keep it, till we have had our systems 
 stiffened. Irony on a depleted organization is injury 
 plus insult. " 
 
 "Wood-pulp!" shouted Burt. "I've heard of sugar 
 plantations and coffee crops without evincing any con- 
 tempt. Will you listen to wood-pulp a moment with 
 respect?" 
 
 With the letter before his eyes, John Burt continued 
 to stride about, mingling exclamations with passages 
 from the written page, making a rather incoherent 
 summary. "'I am now able to give you a tip that 
 ought to make your fortune,' writes my gorgeous uncle. 
 'See prospectus enclosed. In twenty years the whole 
 press of the country will depend upon wood-pulp.' Are 
 you listening to this, Tony? 'We shall be capitalized 
 at one' million, and are going to spend that amount in 
 snatching all the spruce timberlands within reach 
 before our operations wake up competition. You will 
 abandon all other projects and give your immediate 
 attention to this without making public our operations. 
 See enclosure marked C ; report of wild land commission- 
 ers of Pennsylvania. Prompt action is desirable so as to 
 get possession of the valuable supply prior to any State 
 action or public distrust of our corporation. (See 
 Smithsonian pamphlet marked D on timberlands of 
 U. S.) It will be necessary for you to have your head- 
 quarters at some telegraphic centre where there are 
 banking facilities and we can keep in touch with you by 
 wire as well as mail.' ' '
 
 150 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 Here John Burt took a long breath and looked at 
 Tony. The silk handkerchief ovej that gentleman's 
 face rose rhythmically in bubbles over his mouth and a 
 comfortable purring sound issued from beneath. He 
 was fast asleep. His companion, with the letter still in 
 his hand, strode upon him, tore away his handkerchief, 
 and struck what, for him, was an unusually dramatic 
 attitude. 
 
 "See here, Mr. Tony Brahm, when I came to Witte'm- 
 burg and you were preparing for your last gasp, did I 
 put a handkerchief over my head and snore in the face 
 of your necessities with a supernatural indifference?" 
 
 "Soul of my honour, you did not, my boy you 
 behaved yourself with proper decorum. But suppose 
 you had found me jumping about in a wild delirium 
 bawling wood-pulp. I think you would have been justi- 
 fied in closing out the unseemly spectacle," and Tony's 
 handsome blue eyes opened wide and a radiant smile 
 spread itself over his pink countenance. "Have you 
 come to Wittemburg again or do you want me to come ? " 
 
 "My dear fellow," said Burt, waving the letter, "this 
 is an overwhelming avalanche of fortune. It makes 
 Cuba itself possible and I must have a little capital 
 right off." 
 
 Tony executed a careful yawn. "Confound your 
 unnecessary and headlong impatience it isn't necessary 
 to have it before breakfast, is it ? My pocketbook is in 
 the breast pocket of my coat there on your peg, and my 
 check-book as well. All you had to do was to fill out 
 what you wanted. I put a handkerchief over my face 
 so as not to see what you did. It wasn't necessary 
 to wake me up and become an Indian. You knew 
 very well I wouldn't examine the checks even when 
 I sighted them you beastly superfluous Dervish.
 
 GOSSAMER TRIFLES 151 
 
 Between you and the d- d hornet I couldn't get even 
 forty winks. " 
 
 Then Tony beamed like Apollo, and, Corn having 
 announced their breakfast, he got up, shook himself like 
 a mastiff, got his golden head into a pail of spring water, 
 and coming out like a sunflower, the two men sat down 
 to their meal, John Burt still clinging to wood-pulp 
 tenaciously, and Tony, as his system became mollified, 
 listening with amiable wonder. 
 
 "Then we break camp at once?" he said. "I'll 
 return to my quarters in the city and wait for you to 
 round up the wood-pulp and join me, is that it ? " 
 
 "That's it exactly, and there's no time to be lost. If 
 I do not own five hundred acres of spruce timber in less 
 than forty-eight hours, and if I don't double on the price 
 of it, leave me to die in the mountains. Six months of 
 wood-pulp, and I start on the same Cuban plane with you, 
 or I am a born duffer. " He was so full of it that when 
 Pierson came in bringing Miss Kate Bussey's letter he 
 read it between estimates and wood-pulp predictions 
 and then wrote a hurried answer and gave it to the man, 
 thinking no more about it at the time. Both men then 
 gave themselves, as the two women had done at the 
 Grange, to the contemplation of an immediate flitting. 
 On one side were boxes of Cuban statistics and photo- 
 graphs and descriptive pamphlets, and on the other a 
 box of wood-pulp literature. Strewn about in unassorted 
 confusion were other pamphlets, newspapers and blanks 
 to which the men now gave their packing attention, 
 John Burt sitting down at a little table near the window 
 and studying each document as he placed it in his box; 
 Tony, a little more leisurely, sweeping together the 
 papers on the larger table. It was all settled now. 
 Circumstances had determined it for them. There was
 
 1 52 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 nothing now to do but to get the things together, find 
 out about the trains and bid good-by to Catalpa Grange. 
 
 But what gossamer trifles derail such carefully 
 coupled trains. Two small incidents intervened 
 floated so naturally and uneventfully in on man's pro- 
 posing that no one could have suspected them of being 
 in any way determinative. While Burt sat there at the 
 window his friend had gone to his coat and was searching 
 for his check-book. Burt heard him growling and asked 
 him what was the matter. " Have you lost your pocket- 
 book?" 
 
 "No," said Tony. "But I had a newspaper in that 
 pocket. I bought it in town yesterday. It had an 
 awful account of a steamship wrecked in the Indian 
 Ocean. The passengers were twenty days without food 
 and had to eat the cook. I wanted to read it to that 
 young woman in mousseline de laine. I fancy the 
 sickening details would delight her soul." 
 
 This conversation was cut short by the sudden arrival 
 of Judge Heckshent, who had seen the horsemen come 
 back, and had ridden over to say good-by to his over- 
 seer and to fall into the ample arms of Mr. Tony Brahm, 
 who, stretched at full length in linen dishabille, was 
 enjoying the coolness of the retreat and digesting his 
 breakfast. It needed but a flourish of the hand and 
 Mr. Brahm and Judge Heckshent went off into a remi- 
 niscent discussion of the Busseys, Mr. Brahm's cunning 
 volubility fitting itself instantly to the Judge's reminis- 
 cent mood. He asked a thousand questions. Some of 
 them seemed at that time to John Burt to be strangely 
 trivial, for they related to family connections and dates 
 and intermarriages; but the amiable Judge was touched 
 in a soft spot when the antecedents of the Busseys was 
 the topic, and his companion was not slow to perceive it.
 
 GOSSAMER TRIFLES 153 
 
 Then the second incident fluttered in. As usual it 
 was in mousseline de laine and wore a red Garibaldi. 
 John Burt, looking up from the depths of wood-pulp at' 
 the window, saw it flitting and fluttering at Unc'l Dan'l's 
 cabin, accompanied by another damsel who was no less 
 than Penelly Seton. In another moment, as he thus 
 stared, he saw that the Judge and Mr. Brahm had 
 crossed the swale and approached the young women. 
 
 Penelly had uttered an exclamation of surprise as 
 she saw them coming, and it bore the sound of "butter 
 and eggs," as I live. A formal introduction by the 
 Judge put matters on a new footing, and Tony came at 
 the Garibaldi with overwhelming affability. 
 
 "Miss Bussey, " he said, giving his big Panama hat a 
 sweep as if it were plumed and he were in Castile, "I 
 feel that I owe you an apology. I have just learned 
 that I am on the historic ground of the Busseys of 
 Virginia and that an old friend of my family, Miss 
 Sussex Bussey, is here. I hope you will understand 
 that it was my ignorance that prevented me from pay- 
 ing my respects to that estimable representative of one 
 of the oldest and most honoured families of Virginia. " 
 
 Poor little fluttering heart of girlhood. Sylvia looked 
 up into a handsome face that was beaming down at her 
 with an entirely new and masterful kind of devotion, 
 and saying something that was not exactly intended 
 for the group. Without knowing it, she moved . with 
 him a little apart. His politeness seemed to be set to 
 some kind of music that she had not hitherto heard, but 
 which she recognized. 
 
 "Are you then a friend of the family?" she asked with 
 an innocent surprise, as if friends of the family were 
 rarities not to be held at bay by mere prudery. 
 
 "I should be honoured to join the list of friends, but
 
 154 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 as yet I am only an acquaintance. Why, your mother 
 was a Toland one of the Tolands of Frederick. Her 
 brother, Captain Abner Toland, married a Stuyvesant 
 and built the Toland house in Albany. I have seen a 
 picture in it of your grandmother a historic picture of 
 a historic woman. The descendants of Kate Bussey, I 
 should say, need never want for friends in Pennsylvania 
 or Virginia. I shall never forgive myself for not having 
 paid my devotions to your aunt at once." 
 
 "I am sure," said Sylvia, scarce knowing what she 
 said, "that my aunt will be delighted to welcome a 
 friend of the family. We do not see many of them 
 down here now. " 
 
 "How fortunate that you came over before we got 
 away you know we are going North in a day or two. " 
 
 "We came over to see our old servant, Unc'l Dan'l," 
 said Sylvia. "Your friend, Mr. Burt, moved him here. 
 He is a wizard.*' 
 
 "Isn't he?" rejoined Tony. "He just says 'presto,' 
 and stones and sticks and niggers fall into line. Our 
 time is so short, if you do not mind I will walk back with 
 you and pay my respects to your aunt. I have a letter 
 of introduction, though that is hardly necessary if I go 
 with you, and I may not have another opportunity. " 
 
 [I believe the villain had made the Judge write it 
 before they came out of the cabin.}] 
 
 All this would have been startling from any other 
 mouth than Tony's. It came so roundly and graciously 
 from his that Sylvia accepted it without question. He 
 seemed of most extraordinary proportions to her, and to 
 be uttering the platitudes of civility in gentle organ 
 tones, and as he insisted on walking back with her to be 
 presented to the aunt she could not for the life of her 
 repel such voluminous and grandiose politeness; so
 
 GOSSAMER TRIFLES 155 
 
 when Judge Heckshent bade him good-by at the foot 
 of the slope, Sylvia conducted him to the portico and 
 there hurled him, so to speak, in all his towering magni- 
 ficence, against the fragile and astonished Aunt Sussex, 
 and there he lingered, leaving John Burt to gather the 
 papers that had been left behind and to fasten them 
 down on the table with tomato cans and ink bottles 
 and pieces of rock, so that wood-pulp would not become 
 inextricably mixed with coffee plantations at every 
 gust of wind.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 THE TRIUMPH OF WEAKNESS 
 
 As Sylvia came up the steps with her visitor, Aunt 
 Sussex, in a suspensory condition between astonishment 
 and resistance, came out of the hall door. But Sylvia 
 flew at her like a melting southern breeze. 
 
 "Aunty, here is an old acquaintance of the family, 
 Mr. Tony Brahm, with a letter of introduction. He has 
 come to pay his respects to the Busseys through you. 
 He is stopping over in Bourgeonville for a day or two. 
 The Judge has just introduced him to me. " 
 
 "Have I the honour of speaking to a Bussey?" asked 
 Tony most deferentially. 
 
 "My aunt, Miss Sussex Bussey," said Sylvia. 
 
 "Madam, I salute you. I could not leave Bourgeon- 
 ville without offering my respects to the representative 
 of one of the most famous and honoured of Virginia's 
 families. I need not tell you that your name and 
 character are household words in three States. Permit 
 me," and he gallantly offered her one of the heavy 
 chairs and waited for both of them to be seated. 
 
 "I am pleased to meet a friend of the family," said 
 Aunt Sussex with much dignity. "There are not many 
 of them left. " 
 
 "Ah, there you mistake, madam, I assure you. 
 You do the family great injustice. It will be a long 
 time before the virtues of Kate Bussey or the chivalrous 
 record of Colonel John Fairfax are erased from the 
 memories of a grateful people. " 
 
 156
 
 THE TRIUMPH OF WEAKNESS 157 
 
 "Where have I heard the name of Brahm?" asked 
 Aunt Sussex tentatively. 
 
 "It may be associated in your mind along with the 
 Tolands in the illustrious record of the burning of 
 Havre de Grace in 1812. I lost a grandfather there. 
 Or it may occur to you associated with the name of 
 Colonel Abner Toland. Or you may recall Ira Brahm 
 as one of the staunch supporters of Henry Clay. I 
 believe he and Madam Kate Bussey were correspondents 
 in that early struggle. I had often heard you spoken 
 of, but somehow fell into the mistake that you had 
 removed to Tennessee. You cannot imagine how 
 delighted I am to set foot on this historic place and 
 find you here, preserving, I dare say, the traditions and 
 the honours as they should be preserved in our degenerate 
 days of the ancient regime." 
 
 "I thank you," said Aunt Sussex. "It is not an easy 
 task to keep unblemished the traditions of our fathers, 
 but I pride myself that the Busseys remain staunch 
 to the noblest examples of their family. I wish Kate 
 were here. She has gone off for a walk." 
 
 Mr. Brahm plunged into the genealogy and chronology 
 of the Busseys with adroit finesse, pouring his emollient 
 graciousness over any suspicions that his companion 
 might have felt. He distributed his beaming courtesy 
 upon the two ladies so impartially, and gave so much 
 weight to Aunt Sussex's mature observations, that the 
 old lady was completely disarmed, and to Sylvia's 
 secret delight she went so far as to purringly invite 
 Mr. Brahm to stay to tea, a request that he put aside with 
 a refulgent excuse and a promise to make them a more 
 formal visit before leaving the neighbourhood. His 
 evident intent to be politely enamoured of Aunt Sussex 
 only filled Sylvia with admiration, and she could not help
 
 158 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 thinking what a bungler John Burt had been. Here 
 was a man whose tact was of a superior order he parried 
 the dame's curiosity so cleverly, so smothered her 
 inquiries with compliments, that it was evident to Sylvia 
 that if he wished he could have the run of the house. 
 
 When he got up to go, and, after delivering a fine 
 eulogium on the noble outlook, stood a moment in the 
 road apparently perplexed as to which path he should 
 take, Aunt Sussex said, "You had better show him 
 the road through the wood, Sylvia," and that young 
 woman, with an entirely new quirk of hypocrisy, was 
 transformed in a moment into his guide and 
 companion. 
 
 "I think," he said, as he found her at his side entering 
 the wood, "that I can find my way. I usually do." 
 
 "Yes," said Sylvia, "that is very evident. This way 
 is not so difficult as the other. Still, I will show you 
 the highway. It will please Aunt." 
 
 He laughed softly. "She is well worth pleasing," 
 he said. "Besides, it is always the easier way. You 
 see, my friend Jack has no finesse only a noble, 
 straightforward sincerity. If he cannot bolt through a 
 difficulty, he never wastes time in going round it. He 
 and your aunt would have got along famously if they 
 had only stopped to consider each other." 
 
 "It was unfortunate," said Sylvia. "He could have 
 been of great service to us." 
 
 "True, true ; but that is past now. I am going to carry 
 him off on my yacht fly away with him to the West 
 Indies and put him under a course of training." 
 
 "Are you really?" exclaimed Sylvia with girlish 
 surprise. "You didn't tell Aunty that. How disap- 
 pointed she will be." 
 
 "Do you think so? By Jove, Miss Bussey, I wish I
 
 THE TRIUMPH OF WEAKNESS 159 
 
 could take her and her family with me for a summer 
 cruise. How it would brighten up her spirits." 
 
 "Yes," said Sylvia; "Aunty needs brightening up so 
 much." 
 
 He laughed heartily. "Such is the perversity of fate," 
 he said. "One must become deeply interested in her 
 just as he is going away. Do you quite understand 
 that it makes the going a little harder? It some- 
 times looks as if one meets the friends that one is 
 searching for just at the moment of saying good-by. 
 Isn't it abominable just as a person has so many 
 things to say, too. There's the highway, Miss 
 Bussey. You had better go back. I can pick my 
 way easily now." 
 
 "Yes," she said, "there is your road," and she stood 
 still, as if the sentence needed his completion. 
 
 "Au revoir," he said gallantly and buoyantly, seizing 
 her hand; "I am coming to take tea with your aunt. 
 We shall revel in old times, and be as jolly as if we had 
 known each other for years, and then, hurrah ! boys, we 
 are off across the blue waves. God bless you, Miss 
 Bussey." 
 
 When the ladies of the house came together not long 
 after, Kate looked with some surprise at the cheerful 
 faces of her aunt and sister. "Dear," she said, "you look 
 as if you had been tuned." 
 
 "I have," responded Sylvia promptly. "An old 
 friend of the family has been here and cheered us up. 
 You should have been present." 
 
 "I have been thinking of Judge Heckshent," she said, 
 "and it worries me. I believe I will walk over and 
 inquire after him." 
 
 "Do," said Sylvia. "I am going out to the kitchen 
 to superintend some preparations for to-morrow. Aunty
 
 160 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 in her glee has committed the unpardonable sin of 
 asking the stranger to tea." 
 
 Kate then set off down the hill. Sylvia's parting 
 words whispered in her ear were, "Cheer up, dear; you 
 have put your pride in your pocket, and the letter to 
 Mr. Burt will fix up everything. Don't worry any 
 more. I feel that he will come flying at your first 
 beckon and Providence will take care of the rest." 
 
 Just as Kate reached the gateway on the public road, 
 Pierson came up and placed John Burt's reply in her hand 
 and went on up the hill. She opened and read it as she 
 stood there at the entranceway: 
 
 "Mr. John Burt accepts Miss Bussey's apologies and 
 would on no account subject her to the trouble of making 
 them more explicit, but begs to remain with the heart- 
 iest wishes for the future of the estate, her 
 
 " OBEDIENT SERVANT." 
 
 She read it twice as if incredulous of its blunt import. 
 Then in an impulse of resentment she tore the paper 
 into bits and cast them from her with an inimitable 
 and final gesture of disdain, and with a sudden spot of 
 colour in her white cheek, as if, indeed, John Burt had 
 struck her, she moved away among the trees, and before 
 she was aware of it came opposite the Judge's house, 
 which was on the other side of the road. 
 
 In the momentary spasm of humiliation and resent- 
 ment occasioned by what appeared to her to be a con- 
 temptuous rebuff, her desire to see the Judge shaped 
 itself into something like a determination. Mrs. Heck- 
 shent in her flaring sunbonnet was moving in her garden 
 among the flowers, and Kate, with some trepidation, 
 crossed the road and came up to the gate.
 
 THE TRIUMPH OF WEAKNESS i6x 
 
 "Mrs. Heckshent," she said, "I came over to inquire 
 after the Judge's health. He was quite poorly when I 
 saw him." 
 
 Mrs. Heckshent straightened herself and looked out 
 of the depths" of her sunbonnet at her visitor with 
 mingled surprise and gratification surprise that she 
 would dare to come so near after what had passed 
 between them, and gratification that she had evidently 
 been compelled to come. Her narrow dark face imbedded 
 in the scoop bonnet looked a trifle more concentrated 
 and shadowy than usual. 
 
 "The Jedge ain't no worse," she said, without approach- 
 ing the gate. "Leastways, I ain't heard of anything 
 that makes us worry unusual over this - way. We're not 
 stewin' over a cold." 
 
 "Can I see him?" asked Kate. 
 
 Mrs. Heckshent drew in her breath between her 
 teeth. There must be some new anxiety at the Grange. 
 
 "No," she said; "you can't see him here, 'cause he 
 ain't to home. I calculated he was on the Rise." 
 
 Her curiosity rather than her civility made her take 
 two or three steps nearer the gate. 
 
 "The overseer's done shut," she said. "Did you want 
 to know suthin' 'bout the new one?" 
 
 "The new overseer?" asked Kate with surprise. "Is 
 there a new one?" 
 
 "I calculate there will be, seem' that the order of the 
 
 * 
 
 Court stands good and this one leaves when he gets 
 tired. Mebbe t'other one won't tire so easy." 
 
 "I was not aware," said Kate, somewhat helplessly, 
 "that another overseer had been thought of." 
 
 "Well, then, he has been," replied Mrs. Heckshent, 
 with what Kate thought was a slight air of superior 
 advantage, "and I don't mind sayin' it to your face, he
 
 i6a THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 ought to hev been thought of in the first place, because 
 as things is goin' now he comes to it natural like, and 
 might as well be gittin' his hand in." 
 
 There was no part for Kate in this blunt vulgarity. 
 Its coarse directness of implication stunned her a little, 
 and she drew herself together as she said: "Will you 
 kindly mention to the Judge that I called? Good- 
 morning." Then she moved away, somewhat confused 
 and not yet so keenly alive to the lurking animosity of 
 it all as to take it as a covert threat and become indig- 
 nant at it. But as she reached her own wood and went 
 slowly through the trees the full import of it became 
 more clear. Mrs. Heckshent must have heard in some 
 way she did not know how, nor was her confidence in 
 the Judge so fragile as to make her believe he had told her 
 of Mr. Journingham's default. It was not likely that 
 the woman would be counting on her son becoming the 
 overseer if something had not told her that Mr. Journing- 
 ham no longer stood in the way. It was really within 
 the possibilities of the case that Mrs. Heckshent would 
 have her own way in the matter. The Judge had virtu- 
 ally thrown up the task, and he was under the tongue, 
 if not the influence, of this tireless woman. Kate's 
 imagination forecast in a flash the intolerable domina- 
 tion and impertinence of Folingsby's authority, and as 
 she passed the spot where she had torn up John Burt's 
 letter and saw the fluttering bits in the grass she said 
 with intense bitterness, "And I almost begged that man 
 to come to my assistance." 
 
 It looked to her at that moment as if all the good 
 angels of the place had deserted her, and, face which 
 way she might, she met nothing but decrepitude, ignoble 
 resentment and impertinence. 
 
 In this state of mind she met her sister coming down
 
 THE TRIUMPH OF WEAKNESS 163 
 
 the hill in search of her, very much like a stream that 
 had burst forth in the shadowy trees and was taking 
 its wayward and singing course down the declivity. 
 But the blitheness of the younger woman all vanished 
 as she saw something had happened to Kate. Kate told 
 her with all the allowable colouring of wounded feelings, 
 and Sylvia, in spite of her sympathy, came in her head- 
 long way to an instant and practical conclusion. 
 
 "We must get those surveys and plans of Mr. Burt's," 
 she said. "The Judge will never stickle over the pos- 
 session of them and Mrs. Heckshent's monkey cannot 
 do a thing without them. After all, dear, our united 
 brains ought to be sufficient to checkmate that stupid 
 woman at every turn." 
 
 Lady as Kate was, she was still human enough to feel 
 a momentary desire to baffle Mrs. Heckshent. But 
 how to obtain possession of the plans? She was done 
 with that man now had already suffered all that she 
 could stand from his arrogance. In this new dilemma 
 Aunt Sussex was not of the slightest utility. Her 
 mature advice utterly failed to console Kate, for it 
 amounted to nothing more than the assurance that the 
 arrival of Mr. Journingham would straighten everything 
 out. 
 
 Then the unexpected occurred. The very next morn- 
 ing Kate came upon Mr. John Burt in the wood by the 
 . river where she was wandering aimlessly. He had 
 been in the saddle all night, and when she encountered 
 him he was stretching his legs and leading his horse. 
 They came face to face in the path and stared at each 
 other somewhat indeterminately. John Burt, after 
 saluting the lady with dignity, would have passed on, 
 but nerved by some kind of desperation she said : 
 
 "Mr. Burt, may I speak to you?"
 
 164 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 He looked at the beautiful face and graceful figure 
 suddenly risen up before him so like an apparition 
 and replied, with honest surprise and something like 
 obeisance : 
 
 "Why not, Miss Bussey." 
 
 "My endeavour to do so yesterday was a humiliating 
 failure." 
 
 She could not help noticing the frank astonishment 
 as he said: "I beg your pardon humiliating, did you 
 say? I endeavoured to save you from any humiliation, 
 as well as myself. You asked me to come to your house. 
 You surely cannot be so ungenerous yourself as to blame 
 me for declining to revisit it, if you are aware of what 
 passed when I last called there." 
 
 "I regret very much, sir, that I did not see you when 
 you first called. I can readily understand that my 
 aunt's peculiarities would be mistaken for incivility. 
 But it was not my fault." 
 
 "Then I beg of you that you will make no further 
 mention of it," said John Burt. "I have been detained 
 here for a few days by an unexpected matter of business.' 
 Is there any way in which I can be of service to you 
 before I go?" 
 
 This straight pioneer cut through all irrelevant 
 matters to the very subject matter that she had not 
 the spirit to lay hold of affected her at the moment, 
 though she was not conscious of it till afterward, like 
 a strong, soft, virile hand suddenly thrust through 
 inexplicable tangles. She could not help seeing, as he 
 stood there not five feet away, that he was fagged. His 
 mud-bespattered animal, limp and spiritless, his soiled 
 and scratched garments, and awry soft hat pulled out of 
 all shape, as if he had been holding it on in some kind 
 of charge, made up a picture of forces to which she was
 
 THE TRIUMPH OF WEAKNESS 165 
 
 a stranger; and yet, there was that in his straight, lithe 
 figure and unsubdued determination of expression that 
 surmounted all with a suggestion of invincible disregard 
 of physical obstacles. He seemed to her somewhat 
 confused vision to be of some other order than hers to 
 have been plunging somewhere through the night and 
 all its obstacles while she and hers were sleeping and 
 complaining. Her accidental encounter with him had 
 caught him as he plunged resolutely on. 
 
 "Mr. Burt," she said slowly and softly, as if trying 
 not to attach too much importance to her request, "I 
 understand that you have made surveys and estimates 
 of improvement, and I thought that, as you are going 
 away and they could be of no further use to you, 
 you might let me see them. I should even like to ask 
 your advice in some matters, if it would not take too 
 much of your valuable time. " 
 
 "Such plans and estimates as I have prepared belong, 
 I suppose, to Judge Heckshent," he said. "I dare say 
 he will place them at your disposal, but I doubt that 
 they will be at all intelligible to you without my 
 explanation." 
 
 "What would your time be worth, Mr. Burt, to 
 explain them to me? I am beginning to learn how 
 valuable it is." 
 
 He gave her a quick inquiring glance. Was it possible 
 that, like her aunt, she must preface her business with 
 her disdain and irony. 
 
 "Do you think it necessary to say that?" he inquired, 
 "when I so promptly placed my time at your disposal 
 when I came?" 
 
 "Oh, if you still wish to punish me for my misunder- 
 standing or my stupidity, why, I can say no more. " 
 
 And she caught at her skirt. In another moment she
 
 1 66 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 would have turned her back on him and vanished if he 
 had not been quick, and he had an irresistible desire to 
 keep her there a little while longer. 
 
 "Nothing can be further from my intent," he said. 
 "My impulse from the start was a generous one. The 
 estate appealed for just the kind of help that I could 
 offer. It seemed to me a worthy task to redeem it, and 
 I suppose the mistress felt as I did. You must think 
 me either a most vindictive or a most superior person, 
 but there are plenty of good men better equipped than 
 I am to carry out your wishes. I can only regret that 
 it is too late for me to make the attempt. " 
 
 "Do you not see, Mr. Burt, that you are punishing 
 me by making it too late ? " 
 
 This staggered John Burt a little. It was said 
 demurely, and the absurdity of punishing anything so 
 helpless and beautiful made him smile. 
 
 "I cannot conceive of such a thing," he said. "I 
 believe I possess the ordinary virtues of an ordinary 
 man." 
 
 "Do you include magnanimity among your virtues? 
 You could do me a service that would cost you nothing, 
 and you hesitate. You make me humiliate myself in 
 asking for it, and it is such a little thing. " 
 
 "Perhaps I have not understood it. You wish me to 
 give you the result of my examination of this property 
 and place my plans before you. I could not do it in a 
 moment. The whole matter is a practical industrial 
 problem. We are so differently constituted and so 
 unlike that I doubt if you would see it with my eyes. 
 If I thought you would or even desired to, I should cer- 
 tainly take pleasure in placing all the results of my 
 experience before you." 
 
 "I can try," said Kate with refulgent humility.
 
 THE TRIUMPH OF WEAKNESS 167 
 
 "Then," said John Burt, "I suppose that I shall have 
 to remember that on this place everybody obeyed you 
 until I came, and try to obey you myself. " 
 
 "Would it cost you too much?" 
 
 "What it would cost*me is of no consequence. I am 
 bound to think what it would cost the place. " 
 
 "Perhaps you think it would be better for the place 
 if I obeyed you. " 
 
 "I certainly do, " he replied, making a bow. 
 
 She bit her lip softly. She was piqued and interested. 
 "Does the man want me to get down on my knees to 
 him ? " she asked herself. She had turned her face a little 
 away as if to avoid his direct and practical superiority, 
 and the action brought out her beautiful profile, white and 
 clear-cut, against the background of dark-green along 
 the river. It smote him with a sudden pity for her at 
 least, that is what he called it. 
 
 "I suppose," he said, "that it sounds a little harsh. 
 But I think, Miss Bussey, that I am entitled to be 
 understood. If you will listen to me a moment I will 
 try and explain myself. Judge Heckshent took especial 
 pains to inform me when I came here that he was under 
 some kind of fealty to your father to redeem the place 
 for you, and he sought to do so without inflicting any 
 injustice to his own. He seemed to be as anxious as 
 you can be to retain the place in the family, and he asked 
 me to look it> all over with the single view of making it 
 productive. The more I saw of it the less I thought of 
 the Judge's contract with me and the more I thought 
 of what Nature herself would pay me in lending her a 
 helping hand. I discovered soon enough that you did 
 not understand the matter and were not likely to listen 
 to any explanations from me. In fact, you virtually 
 ordered me off the place and told me that you were the 1
 
 i68 THE CONQUERING OP KATE 
 
 mistress of it. Do you think I was punishing you in 
 obeying you? There was only one way. Either you 
 or I must be mistress or master of the measures, and 
 you settled that imperatively. You are the mistress, 
 and I acknowledge it." 
 
 His persistence in holding to this view of it stung her 
 a little even while it did not lessen her respect for him. 
 
 "Yes," she said, "I can see that what has occurred 
 has made it impossible for us to agree. Still, I am glad 
 that I have heard you, sir. I was afraid that I had 
 unwittingly done you some injustice. It is a relief to 
 know that it is the other way." 
 
 "That I have treated you unjustly?" 
 
 "Almost brutally. You found a woman absolutely 
 ignorant of what was required of her, and you never 
 forgot her helplessness and her mistake. It was singu- 
 larly unlike the manliness that I have been accustomed 
 to. I was informed that you were going away or I 
 should not have sent for you. I humbled myself to 
 apologize and beg a small favour of you, and you nursed 
 your little wrong and thought of nothing but yourself. 
 If you will let me pass, Mr. Burt, I will go on my way. " 
 
 Such a finality sounded a little dismal. As to which 
 of them should do the kneeling was now becoming a 
 matter of finesse. In another moment the white face 
 would have passed on and out of his vision forever, and 
 the moment before it had come dreamily close to him 
 with something like an appeal. She had drawn herself 
 up to the full puissance of her dignity and taken a step 
 or two, looking straight ahead, when he said: 
 
 "Miss^ussey, our ways lie in opposite directions, but 
 I should dislike to go mine and feel that I had not 
 treated you fairly. You must see that I can no longer 
 have any motive for either wounding or deceiving you.
 
 THE TRIUMPH OF WEAKNESS 169 
 
 In a few days we shall be hundreds of miles apart. If 
 before I go I can be of the least service to you or to the 
 estate, you have but to command me. I am not in the 
 habit of taking orders from others, but I think I could 
 take them from you with the humility that you seem to 
 think is necessary." 
 
 She turned quickly. "Why do you speak of my 
 orders? Is it because I asked a favour of you?" 
 
 "No. It is because I prefer your orders. They 
 become you better. I should much rather obey you 
 than excuse you, if I could first instruct you in what 
 you do not seem to understand your own domain." 
 
 This melted her a little. "It was for your instruc- 
 tion," she said, "that I was asking. I am still the 
 nominal mistress of the place. If you will bring your 
 map to the house this afternoon and instruct me, I will 
 try and shield you from the violence of the household. " 
 
 "I am going to Chambersburg this afternoon," he 
 said quite coolly, "and shall not be back till the last 
 train to-night." 
 
 The man was evidently a brute. Chambersburg 
 indeed ! when the lady of the Grange held her door open. 
 
 " Oh, suit yourself, " she said with piquant indifference. 
 "When you find an idle moment, perhaps you will 
 consider my invitation." 
 
 He did not waver. "The first idle moment will be in 
 the morning," he said. "I will call upon you then and 
 bring the papers." Then they bowed very formally. 
 He grasped his horse's bridle and they went different 
 ways. 
 
 It was with some unpleasant recollections that John 
 Burt found himself the next morning once more in the 
 old parlour with its candelabra and rose bay. Somehow 
 it looked a little brighter than before. Whether it was
 
 1 70 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 the fresh curtains or his own fancy he did not know, nor 
 did he have to wait long. Kate came promptly to the 
 door and rewarded him for his obedience with a smile of 
 gracious dignity. 
 
 By every precedent made and provided, he ought to 
 have been a little nervous and awkward. But he was 
 not. It was all plain sailing with him. In a few days 
 they would have forgotten each other, and this little 
 incident of business was to be gone through as quickly 
 as possible. It was his plain duty to be matter of fact 
 and brief. 
 
 "I have brought a map of the place, Miss Bussey," 
 he said; "if you will move some of the articles from the 
 table I will spread it out. " 
 
 She picked up some of the books while he was unroll- 
 ing the map, and then she sat down at a safe distance. 
 
 "If you will step here," he said, "I will point out to 
 you the lines. " 
 
 She came obediently over and placed herself by his 
 side. 
 
 "The estate," he continued, "is put down as con- 
 taining a thousand acres, but the survey shows a thou- 
 sand and ten. That is the line of the northern boundary. 
 Deducting thirty-seven acres of timber on the highway, 
 sixty acres on the bluff and twenty acres of scrub on the 
 wet land, there are practically eight hundred and eighty- 
 three acres of arable land, most of which is in fairly good 
 condition for field crops." 
 
 She was leaning over so close beside him that he could 
 feel the warm glow of her body, and at this matter-of- 
 fact preludium she drew herself up and looked at him 
 with a pleasant smile of incredulity. 
 
 "Was it your idea to turn the place into a farm?" 
 she asked.
 
 THE TRIUMPH OF WEAKNESS 171 
 
 "Yes, in part. I calculate it will require an income 
 of $20,000 a year to keep a park of a thousand acres 
 up to elegant idleness." 
 
 She stared at him with an expression of blank dismay. 
 
 "And no farm will furnish that in Franklin County," 
 she said with a pleasant despair. 
 
 "Hardly," he replied with a smile. "So I would 
 reduce the park ruthlessly." 
 
 "Yes," she murmured, repeating the word "ruth- 
 lessly" as if it had a singular appropriateness. 
 
 She sat down as if a little embarrassed how to pro- 
 ceed. Mr. Burt seemed to her at that moment to be 
 almost grim in his practicality, and yet something 
 seemed to whisper to her that it was through such a rude 
 door that escape from present embarrassments might be 
 possible. 
 
 " I wish you would tell me, Mr. Burt, " she said, " what 
 a poor woman like myself, with no experience and no 
 resources, can do?" 
 
 "No one can be said to be absolutely poor or without 
 resources so long as she can command this domain, " he 
 replied. 
 
 "Ah," she said, looking at him in spite of herself 
 with some kind of wondering admiration, "you speak 
 like a man." 
 
 "Yes, I presume I do, and it is as a man that my 
 speaking can be of any value to you. If you did not 
 speak and act like a woman, Miss Bussey, I fancy that 
 a man would miss much of the incentive to serve you." 
 
 This was the first time that anything like a compli- 
 ment had, to her ears, fallen from him, and even now 
 it was coupled with an intimation not so much of her 
 strength as of her weakness, and she was partially aware 
 that for the first time her weaknesses did not bridle as
 
 i 7 2 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 they should. She was even conscious that, in spite of 
 herself, those weaknesses had evinced an entirely new 
 inclination to exhibit themselves. 
 
 It embarrassed him a little to be diverted from the 
 plain-sailing details of his plan. After a moment's 
 hesitation he plunged ahead again. "Did you ever 
 think of selling the place, Miss Bussey?" 
 
 "Never," she replied with unnecessary emphasis; "but 
 I suppose you know I may not be able to prevent its 
 being sold." 
 
 "Yes, I understand that it is encumbered. That is 
 an incidental disadvantage attaching to many noble 
 estates. Does it occur to you that the proper thing is 
 to disencumber it as soon as possible?" 
 
 At this, innocent imbecility opened its eyes wide, as 
 if she had come into the presence of a conjurer slowly 
 rising from the ruins of a devastator. 
 
 Then the conversation seemed to come to a conclusion, 
 and John Burt, not having anything else to say at the 
 moment, remarked: 
 
 "I regret that I know of no person that I could 
 recommend as a practical agent in the matter of 
 improvement . ' ' 
 
 "I wish you did," she said candidly. "I am so 
 wofully ignorant of how to go about my duty in the 
 matter that I think I should prize such a person, though 
 I fear I should not be able to pay him." 
 
 John Burt had it on the end of his tongue to say that 
 any practical person would ask no better pay than to be 
 prized by her. But it was too risky, and he walked to 
 the window and looked out on the grove. 
 
 "By the way," he said, trying to fill in the gap of 
 silence, "that is a fine piece of old timber running south 
 along the road from the house." He came to the table
 
 THE TRIUMPH OF WEAKNESS 173 
 
 and laid his finger upon the map. "There are thirty- 
 seven acres of it, containing many fine beech, oak, 
 elm and ash trees, but they are being choked to death 
 by the chestnuts and gums. To save that valuable part 
 of the estate, I would cut out two or three hundred 
 chestnuts and let the light and air in on what ought to 
 be a beautiful grove instead of a tangle. It is a shame 
 to see it smothering itself to death." 
 
 "Dear me," said Kate, "and I have nobody to look 
 after these things." 
 
 "So far as the grove is concerned, perhaps I can look 
 after that for you. It is a very small job." 
 
 "Will you?" 
 
 "Certainly, if you desire it." 
 
 Whereupon, Practicality, having come to the end of 
 its tether, began to roll up the map, but she put her 
 hand on it. 
 
 "You are going to leave it with me." she said. "I 
 want to study it." 
 
 When he was gone a sly smile played about her face. 
 It seemed to her that feminine weakness had not entirely 
 discredited itself. She had the papers and John Burt 
 had gone forth with her first commission. As she sat 
 there wondering if she were not entitled to a little self- 
 gratulation, Sylvia bounced in. 
 
 "What in the name of wonder was Aunty doing over- 
 head while we were talking? I never heard such a 
 disgraceful racket. It sounded as if she were moving 
 furniture." 
 
 "She was pulling out her trunks to find her traveling 
 boots," replied Sylvia. "I think she must have seen 
 the overseer come in, and she was going straight to 
 Tennessee." 
 
 "Good gracious !" exclaimed Kate.
 
 174 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 "But I stopped her," Sylvia cried. 
 "How did you do it?" 
 
 "I reminded her that she had invited Mr. Brahm to 
 tea."
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 "PLUM HONEY" 
 
 WHEN John Burt left the Grange he proceeded directiy 
 to Judge Heckshent's house, where he found that 
 gentleman lying down. 
 
 "I wish to consult you, Judge," he said, "on a little 
 affair of the Busseys'." 
 
 The Judge got up. "I will walk down the road a bit 
 with you," he whispered, and when they were a short 
 distance from the house John Burt went on with his 
 explanation. 
 
 "I have just been over at the Grange and had a talk 
 with Miss Kate Bussey. She was apologetic and quite 
 helpless. With your permission I can do her a little 
 favour. Here's this timber needs thinning out. I can 
 sell two or three hundred chestnut poles as they stand 
 for cash to the telegraph company which is about to 
 extend its lines to Platt's Mills. They ought to be worth 
 a dollar a stick. I wanted your permission to make 
 the deal." 
 
 "My dear Burt," said the Judge, putting his hand on 
 the young man's shoulder and grasping his hand, "you 
 make it, and put the proceeds in my hands for her. 
 The wood will be benefited." 
 
 John Burt pulled out his memorandum book and a 
 fountain pen, "You had better give me an authorization," 
 he said. 
 
 The Judge wrote a few lines on the pad. 
 
 175
 
 176 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 As the young man was not in the habit of letting the 
 grass grow under his feet, he went at once to the con- 
 tractor, closed a deal that saved that contractor from 
 pulling his poles five miles, came back to the grounds 
 with a man, spent the afternoon picking and marking 
 the trees, and in the morning sent a note to the Judge, 
 enclosing three hundred dollars, with a request that he 
 transmit it to his client with the proper explanation. 
 
 When Kate Bussey opened the letter she found that 
 it contained the following postscript: 
 
 "The young man says that if you have no immediate 
 use for the money he can double it for you. I advise you 
 to let him do it. He is a wonder." 
 
 Then she wrote a brief acknowledgement and added 
 to it, "Please inform Mr. Burt that his advice is too 
 profitable to be neglected and that I shall wait his further 
 orders through you." This was signed Kate Bussey. 
 She sent the letter and the roll of bills to the Judge at 
 once. 
 
 There was much impetuosity about John Burt for a 
 day or two and he gave his friend Tony no end of dis- 
 comfort. After plunging about between Chambersburg 
 and Bourgeonville in the most rabid manner, he finally 
 settled down to take breath for an hour or two. 
 
 "I have been doing a little trick of business for Miss 
 Bussey, and I am sending her $650. You are quite 
 right I feel like an operator. If I had a wire in here 
 I'd be more comfortable." 
 
 When his letter and money came back from the 
 Judge, the letter saying that it would be well to explain 
 to Miss Bussey, John Burt called himself a dunder- 
 headed ape and set out immediately for the Grange.
 
 "PLUM HONEY" 177 
 
 He reached it in the twilight. A soft dusky glow in the 
 west made the place shadowy in a pensive light. The 
 hall door stood wide, and at the farther end of the hall 
 a white figure was standing with its back to him. The 
 sound of his steps made it turn, and, tinted by the 
 melancholy flush of the twilight, Kate came toward 
 him. 
 
 "Miss Bussey," he began at once, with much more 
 eagerness than was usual with him, "I deserve your 
 reprimand. Had I stopped to think, I might have known 
 that there is a proper as well as an improper way of 
 executing a duty for a lady. If you will sit down a 
 moment I will explain matters to you concerning the 
 transaction." 
 
 He pulled round one of the heavy chairs and she 
 seemed to float into it speechless. Then he began an 
 explanation and traveled rapidly over a great deal of 
 ground, Miss Bussey trying to follow him and accepting 
 much that he said without understanding it. She 
 stopped him before he had gone very far, saying: 
 
 "If you will excuse me a moment, sir, I will fetch a 
 mantle from the hall table. The air is growing slightly 
 damp here." 
 
 He shot into the hall before she had time to rise. 
 Matters were thus falling into their proper relations. 
 Practicality danced attendance and Beauty accepted it 
 unconcernedly. He put the mantle about her shoulders 
 as daintily as if it had been an opera cloak, and con- 
 gratulated himself that he had won a new privilege as 
 his fingers came in contact with her shoulders. Much 
 of the enterprise of which he was for the moment so 
 full presented but a very vague idea to her, but she 
 accepted the fact that it must be very important because 
 he said it was, and she meekly expressed a wish that
 
 178 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 she might have more capacity and a better knowledge 
 of the business world. 
 
 Then it was that he told her that he should be 
 delighted to show her some of the resources of her 
 immediate neighbourhood. "I think," he said, "that 
 you ought to acquaint yourself with the opportunities 
 of this country because you may be able to avail 
 yourself of them to your great benefit." 
 
 "What would you suggest, Mr. Burt?" she asked. 
 
 "I would suggest that you ride over part of the ground 
 and see for yourself. I am in a position to point out to 
 you some of the advantages before I go, and I think you 
 ought to know of them before some one else uses the 
 knowledge ; or, if you prefer, I will give Pierson instruc- 
 tions to accompany you and explain further when you 
 come back." 
 
 No she did not prefer that. "If it is a matter of 
 business, I think I can summon resolution enough to 
 undertake it," she said. 
 
 He had succeeded in convincing her with paper and 
 pencil that her money had been invested legitimately 
 and that she was already in a fair way to be a business 
 woman, and this assurance no doubt made her feel that 
 it would not do to let go of the opportunities that 
 were offering. 
 
 When he was gone, she went up to her room, and 
 throwing the packet on the table where the bills swelled 
 and bulged out in full view, she walked about nervously 
 and wondered at the new escape that seemed to be 
 opening to her. In that condition Sylvia caught her. 
 
 "Kate," she said, "I don't want to annoy you, but 
 what am I going to do for some clothes ? Aunt Sussex 
 says she is drained, and I suppose she is, poor thing, but 
 I can't wear that mousseline de laine all next winter, and
 
 "PLUM HONEY" 179 
 
 I've stuck to that red Garibaldi until I feel like last 
 year's woodpecker when I go out of the house." 
 
 "You have my sympathy," said Kate; "you always 
 have. I give it to you freely." 
 
 "I know you do, dear; it is as old as my Garibaldi, 
 and I want something new. Dear me, I wonder if 
 women were made only for sympathy." 
 
 "Sympathy and clothes," replied Kate, turning away 
 from the window. 
 
 "As if ever they went together anywhere but in a 
 hospital." 
 
 "You must not forget," said Kate, "that we are 
 women and have no initiative. We must learn sooner 
 or later that we cannot have our own way." 
 
 "I shall never learn it," said Sylvia, "and I don't 
 believe you can." 
 
 "Oh, yes, I am learning slowly. I cannot have my 
 way even with my own inclinations. I am not even 
 mistress of my preferences. I used to think I was a 
 free agent and foolishly imagined I was exercising my 
 own will." 
 
 "And so you did. We are all monuments of it." 
 
 "No. I never had my own way. I invited this one 
 and he never came." 
 
 "Heaven be praised ! " said Sylvia. 
 
 "I banished that one," continued^ Kate, "and he 
 stayed." 
 
 "Glory ! " said Sylvia. 
 
 "I could not even have my way with my own hates. 
 I am an automaton." 
 
 "No, dear; you are only blue, and automatons never 
 are blue, I am sure. Cheer up, sister. You shall hate 
 anybody you please except me. You can always hate 
 the overseer, you know."
 
 i8o THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 "That's it. I have tried my best to " 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "I am not to be permitted to." 
 
 Sylvia began to laugh. "Don't hate him," she said, 
 "if he isn't worth the trouble, and come back to the 
 Garibaldi. What am I going to do?" 
 
 "You will have to buy yourself some new dresses, I 
 suppose. There's the money on the table." 
 
 Sylvia jumped to the table and turned over the roll of 
 bills with a mingled gasp of horror and delight. 
 
 "Wherever did it come from? What does it mean?" 
 
 "It means that I am a business woman. I never 
 wanted to be, but I can't help myself. I have been 
 speculating in land." 
 
 "Whose land?" 
 
 "I haven't the faintest idea I never have." 
 
 "Is it all yours?" 
 
 "No. Some of it is yours. Help yourself." 
 
 There were several sufficient reasons why Miss Kate 
 Bussey consented two days later to have her side-saddle 
 put upon John Burt's black horse and accompany that 
 gentleman in a gallop. First of all, a new desire to see 
 and know something of the possibilities of the neigh- 
 bourhood had taken possession of her. She acknowl- 
 edged grudgingly that she had neglected the practical 
 side of her opportunities, and here was an expert who 
 could point them out. A woman in her position should 
 have independence enough to accompany her overseer 
 and let him know her orders. It was high time that she 
 assumed some of the spirit of a mistress. 
 
 To this desire was added another, equally operative, 
 but which would not have been so frankly acknowledged. 
 A dash into the dewy morning on a spirited horse once 
 more seemed to be in some inexplicable way like the
 
 "PLUM HONEY" 181 
 
 recovery of a lost privilege. A new zest was awakened 
 in her as she saw from her window Pierson holding the 
 two animals in front of the porch and tightening her 
 saddle girth under the direction of John Burt. 
 
 Aunt Sussex assisted her with the old riding-habit, 
 exercising a discreet reserve, as one will whose principles 
 are shocked but whose affection is undisturbed. 
 
 John Burt stood there in the road with his field-glass 
 over his shoulder, looking very trim, erect and matter- 
 of-fact-like, as became a servitor about to perform a 
 routine duty, and as the mistress came out he greeted 
 her with an easy and unperturbed respect. But when 
 he assisted her to mount, saw her take her seat as if bred 
 to it, bending herself gracefully and confidently to the 
 sudden motion of the alert animal and showing a face 
 suddenly lit with exhilaration and pleasure, he could 
 not utterly ignore the feeling of admiration that stirred 
 under all his matter-of-fact respect. 
 
 So they rode away across the fields into the radiant 
 and musical morning, coming out on the highway half 
 a mile northward fromthe Grange and climbing the ascent 
 that led up past the Quarries and over Round Top. For 
 some distance Kate took the lead. She had John Burt's 
 horse and she gave free rein to the animal's impulse, her 
 companion following like her squire at a respectful dis- 
 tance. But this could not last long. While she was 
 familiar with the road she exulted in the motion, leaving 
 Mr. Burt to take care of himself. Presently, as they 
 entered the wilder and less familiar country, she dropped 
 back to his side and began to ask questions. 
 
 M I know this road, Mr. Burt, very well, as far as the 
 Lookout Ledge, having ridden over it many times with 
 my father. Its wild beauty was always a delight 
 to me."
 
 i8 2 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 "The Ledge is just ahead of us," said John Burt. 
 "Beyond that the mountainside is almost inaccessible. 
 I am going to ask you to go a little farther than the 
 Ledge so that I can point out to you the stretch of timber 
 in the Black Valley. As the path is narrowing, I think 
 perhaps I had better ride ahead of you" and suiting 
 the action to the word, he passed on, his companion 
 following him obediently, and now having for the first 
 time an opportunity to observe how easily and master- 
 fully he identified himself with the animal's movement. 
 
 "The Lookout Ledge is here," he said. " Do you care 
 to stop a moment upon it?" 
 
 "Yes, by all means," she replied eagerly. "It is so 
 long since I have enjoyed it." 
 
 "Had we not better dismount?" 
 
 "No. I think not. We need only approach the edge 
 of the trees and look through." 
 
 But to reach the projecting plateau of rock that shut 
 out from the mountainside and overhung the valley 
 beneath they must turn and go through the tangle of 
 laurel and wild vines, under gnarled and interlacing 
 branches. This accomplished, and coming to the shelf 
 of moss-covered granite, so like a platform, before either 
 of them could utter a word of surprise at the resplendent 
 picture that burst upon them something sprang up 
 from the rock and startled both horses. John Burt 
 seized the bridle of Kate's horse with an iron grip and 
 prevented the animal from backing wildly into the 
 branches, and the next moment both riders were on 
 their feet trying to make out what it was that had 
 occurred. 
 
 Looking through the fretwork of boughs upon the 
 bright space beyond, they saw standing on the ledge in 
 an attitude of wonder and surprise a picturesque and
 
 "PLUM HONEY" 183 
 
 wild female figure that seemed to have risen out of the 
 rocks. She looked somewhat exaggerated against the 
 sparkling background. Her black hair, swept back from 
 her head, was filleted with a piece of twine and thence 
 fell in an unkempt mass down her back. She stood 
 erect with a statuesque uncouthness, one hand in the 
 bosom of her coarse dress where she had thrust something 
 out of sight, and the other, gathering the skirt as for 
 flight, showed a pair of heavy rubber boots on her legs. 
 
 "What are you doing, girl ? " asked John Burt. "You 
 have given our horses a scare." 
 
 She looked from one to the other of the intruders with 
 a slow, visual measurement. 
 
 " Youse be from the Grange," she said, as if answering 
 her own inquiry. "I be up from the Quarries." 
 
 " Oh," said John Burt, backing the horses carefully to 
 the road again. "Suppose you stay in the trees and 
 keep your eyes on the animals. We want to look at the 
 Valley from the rocks." 
 
 He fastened the horses in an open space and came 
 back to Kate. The girl obeyed him and disappeared 
 among the trees, not, indeed, to keep her eyes on the 
 animals, but to watch with greedy wonderment, through 
 the tangle, every movement of the strangers, herself 
 unobserved. 
 
 Familiar as the outlook was to Miss Bussey, it had 
 never before worn such a sparkling amplitude or spread 
 itself in such inspiring recessions of colour. John Burt 
 unbuckled his field-glass and handed it to her. She 
 did not immediately avail herself of it, but held it in her 
 gloved hand, saying: 
 
 "I suppose the view, beautiful as it is, must affect us 
 in wholly unlike ways. It always did make me shrink 
 a little with its vastness and its unconquerable wildness."
 
 1 84 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 "Don't say unconquerable," replied John Burt. 
 "Man already has his insatiate eye upon it, and it must 
 come obediently under his ax and pick. There are not 
 many tracts like this where he has not already blazed 
 his way. But so far he has been mainly intent in getting 
 at the minerals, oil and coal and iron, and where they 
 have disappointed him he has abandoned his possessions. 
 It is by availing myself of this neglect that I was led to 
 operate in a small way myself. This would make a fine 
 outlook for a summer hotel or a sanitarium. With that 
 glass you can sweep twenty miles through the gorge 
 there." 
 
 She resented the industrial estimate of it. "For my 
 part," she said, " I should be content to have it remain 
 forever as Nature has planned it." 
 
 "And so it would, undoubtedly," said John Burt, 
 "if Nature had not made somebody to possess it and use 
 it. Nature does not believe in having things remain 
 forever as they are. Notice those bright green patches 
 on that mountainside." 
 
 "Yes they serve to show her love of variety and 
 colour." 
 
 "They show where she burned out thousands of 
 acres of fine timber several years ago. That is the 
 new crop that looks so bright, but it will take 
 twenty years to mature it. It is the timber I am 
 interested in." 
 
 "And I am not practical enough to estimate anything 
 but the beauty. I am afraid you will find me of very 
 small account in such matters." 
 
 "The scenery is much grander three or four miles 
 farther north, where the Black Ravine enters this valley 
 at right angles," he observed. "But I have not 
 approached it from this direction, and am doubtful of
 
 "PLUM HONEY" 185 
 
 the way. Once there, however, we can take the Pike 
 back to Bourgeonville." 
 
 As he was looking at her interrogatively, she said: 
 
 "You have something to show me, Mr. Burt, and I 
 started out to see it. I am quite equal to the ride, if 
 you think there is a road." 
 
 This acquiescence seemed to please him, and he turned 
 to find the girl and ascertain if she could furnish any 
 information. She was peering at them intently through 
 the brush, her body bent forward, watching every 
 motion and trying to catch their words. 
 
 At his inquiry she looked from one to the other a 
 moment as if it were hard to disengage her mind from 
 the study she was making. Presently she said : 
 
 "There be n't much of a road till you git to the char- 
 coal clearin'. Then there's a wagon trail to the Black 
 Gully, if you strike it in the brush." 
 
 "How far is the clearing?" 
 
 "Might be a mile. You-uns don't ride much as high 
 as this, an' it's scraggy " 
 
 Burt thanked her, put his hand in his pocket and 
 offered her a piece of money. She drew her arms 
 behind her and stared at him with a stolid dignity, at 
 which he made her a low bow, called her Miss and asked 
 her pardon. The next moment he and Miss Bussey 
 were mounted and picking their way along the narrow 
 path slowly. 
 
 No sooner had they disappeared in the trees than the 
 girl kicked off the rubber boots, threw them upon the 
 ledge of rocks, and, arming herself with a dead branch, 
 set out in a stealthy manner to keep them in sight. 
 There was some trouble in threading those wild heights 
 bare-legged as she was, for there were occasional rattlers 
 to be met when least expected ; but she was accustomed
 
 186 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 to take care of herself, and when she came to a dense 
 tangle or a treacherous bed of a dry stream she struck 
 her staff on the ground, listened, and hurried on. 
 
 Barefoot as she now was, she could come noiselessly 
 upon the riders without their knowing it, and slipping 
 through the underbrush from tree to tree like a strangely 
 lithe and vigorous animal, she kept the receding figures 
 in sight. Now and then her black hair caught in the 
 interlaced stems, but she disentangled herself with an 
 impatient shake of her head and went on heedless of 
 the impediment. 
 
 The picture of these fortunate companions had some 
 kind of fascination for her. She watched them with a 
 curiosity that was intense, as if all her untutored faculties 
 were bent upon the task of discovering their relationship. 
 Miss Bussey she knew. That vison had flitted before 
 her eyes in uncertain remoteness at odd times. But 
 the other who was he ? Once in her hurry she stumbled 
 over a vine and something fell out of the folds of her 
 dress into the debris of the forest. It was a spelling- 
 book. She reached down to pick it up out of the leaves 
 and grasses and heard the ominous burr of a rattler 
 somewhere in the near thicket, but she gave a leap out 
 of the tangle, replaced the book in her breast and ran 
 on. 
 
 With some difficulty John Burt found the old wagon 
 road leading out of the deserted charcoal-burner's clear- 
 ing, and once upon that unobstructed way, he and his 
 companion wound round the shoulder of the mountain 
 and came out on the northern declivity to look down 
 with awe and amazement into the spreading panorama 
 of the Black Ravine. The great spur on the other side 
 rau off southward in a stupendous slope of dark-green 
 forest that died out in tints melting with successive
 
 "PLUM HONEY" 187 
 
 promontories from green to gray and from gray to blue 
 until they were lost in skyey shadows far to the south. 
 Between, flashed and softly crooned the Sackasasson, 
 lost at intervals but sparkling out again in the purpling 
 perspective, and throwing back tiny flashes from the 
 distance as one has seen receding friends wave their 
 white handkerchiefs before being swallowed up in 
 absence. 
 
 Certain it is that the sudden unrolling of this magnifi- 
 cent picture produced, as Miss Bussey had said, entirely 
 different emotions in the breasts of the two observers. 
 The physical vastness of it affected Miss Bussey with a 
 shrinking awe mingled with an artist's sense of sublimity 
 at the same time. She was in the presence of the infi- 
 nitely beautiful, and it made her feel her finite littleness. 
 On the other hand, John Burt, whatever his esthetic 
 emotions, looked at the view with a clear utilitarian 
 eye and measured its beauty by its possibilities. He 
 slipped down and stood beside his companion, pointing 
 out with a surveyor's easy mastery of it what else must 
 have been lost to her in the splendid glamour of it. 
 
 "You will notice," he said, "the dark timber-line on 
 the northern side of that valley. It gets its hue from 
 the spruce and cedar. I estimate the belt to contain 
 ten thousand acres of timber that is prospectively worth 
 a good deal of money. Its value in the market is 
 enhanced by the river, which in the spring will 
 furnish the means of easy transportation for the 
 logs, and the stream runs about fifty miles 
 southeast that is, to within a few miles of the Gum 
 Valley road." 
 
 "It seems to me," said Miss Bussey, "much too beauti- 
 ful to be disturbed. I cannot look at it without feeling 
 the strains of an unearthly music. Do not those soft
 
 1 88 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 peaks in the distance, lying in sun and shadow, remind 
 you of the cadence of a melancholy song?" 
 
 John Burt was evidently trying to resist this sort of 
 fancy. He had not come there for an exercise of his 
 imagination. 
 
 "Miss Bussey," he said, "I am as susceptible as your- 
 self, perhaps, to the influences of such a picture, but I 
 wish to call your attention to the timber. That enor- 
 mous strip is for the moment lying unsuspected. My 
 impression is that it can be bought for a song and sold 
 at a fair advance by some one who can forecast the 
 demand. The present difficulty is in finding the titles, 
 but even that can be overcome. In a little while the 
 new wave of enterprise will flow over that ridge. There is 
 great advantage, I assure you, in being first on the spot." 
 
 She gazed at the beautiful picture and it seemed to 
 her that the great barrier that lifted itself in such noble 
 sky lines was intended as a protection from speculation. 
 She thought Enterprise would hold its breath before it 
 undertook to cross that great ridge. 
 
 John Burt smiled. "It will probably go under it," 
 he said. "The Gum Valley road, if it carries out its 
 surveys, will tunnel the mountain. It is not much of 
 an engineering feat." 
 
 He took out his pad and pencil and, coming close to 
 her saddle, showed her what the probable rate of incre- 
 ment would be on the lands. He called it "a speculative 
 use of natural resources," "and that is the way," he said, 
 "for you to look at it not industrially. The percentage 
 of increase involves nothing more than the investment." 
 
 "Oh, no," she replied. "You are overlooking all the 
 executive supervision and management, and assuming 
 that I, with only one lesson, can do what you, with your 
 knowledge and experience, alone can do."
 
 "PLUM HONEY" 189 
 
 "I will be frank with you," he said, "because I am in 
 a position to be disinterested, and I hope that you will 
 give me credit for it. It is true I have acted as your 
 agent in one small transaction I might almost say as 
 your partner. But as you are to remain here and I 
 am not, it seems to me to be rather lacking in mag- 
 nanimity to carry off the chance with me where I could 
 not avail myself of it. It is an impulse that is so simple, 
 and I suppose so common to all men, that I fear you do 
 not quite understand it." 
 
 "I am afraid, Mr. Burt, if what you say is true, that 
 you are doing the impulse great injustice." 
 
 "Well, Miss Bussey, it costs me nothing to put into 
 your hands what I cannot avail myself of. Of course, 
 I know very little of the conditions which hamper you 
 in the attempt to save your inheritance, but I assume 
 that you desire to save it, and I thought it no more than 
 fair to point out to you a most fortuitous chance to do so 
 a chance which, for aught I know, may save you from 
 making sacrifices. This comprehends the whole of 
 my purpose in bringing you here." 
 
 He put the pad in his pocket and turned to his horse. 
 
 "I suppose, Mr. Burt," she said, "that I ought in some 
 way to express my gratitude to you for your disinterested 
 efforts, and I hope you will not think me ungenerous if 
 I say that I have not your ability to remove mountains. 
 Your scheme appals me, like this view." 
 
 "But it is only a matter of buying and selling. You 
 have already doubled your capital; all you have to do 
 is to go on doubling it while the opportunity lasts." 
 
 "Yes, it sounds so easy when you say it. You speak 
 as if I had done something other than simply obey 
 you." 
 
 "In a matter of this kind, I think you did well to obey
 
 1 90 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 me, though I should not use that word. It was to your 
 interest to do so." 
 
 She started a little. There was an obduracy in his 
 kindness that baffled her. Perhaps it was character- 
 istic of an engineer who had come to regard women as 
 he did other material obstacles. 
 
 "If I had not possessed some advantages," he said 
 a moment later, "advantages of a rude matter-of-fact 
 kind, any proffer of assistance on my part would have 
 been impertinent. Perhaps you can imagine mag- 
 nanimity without strength. I cannot." 
 
 "Thank you," she replied. "I can understand that 
 in showing you my inability I should also betray how 
 unmagnanimous I am. But you need not have told me." 
 
 He was just about to mount, and he turned round 
 again to say: 
 
 "You utterly mistake, Miss Bussey. A man does not 
 expect magnanimity from a woman. He only asks the 
 privilege of exercising it." 
 
 "And you make an equal mistake, Mr. Burt, if you 
 suppose that a woman cannot prize what she herself 
 does not possess. Are you sure that you have taken 
 the best course to convince me of your magnanimity?" 
 
 "I have not thought of the course," he said, "nor 
 much of myself. If you will permit me to say so, I must 
 have been thinking of you and your difficulty as directly 
 as a disinterested man may be permitted to think. We 
 seem to have dropped to hair-splitting most unnecessar- 
 ily. I have not involved you in any scheme of my own, 
 nor do I intend to. I have placed before you what a 
 practical man regards as a rare chance. The beauty 
 of it is that it will cost you nothing to forget it." 
 
 "Your magnanimity, Mr. Burt, is being drawn to too 
 fine a point."
 
 "PLUM HONEY" 191 
 
 Her horse sheered a little, so that she came close 
 beside him, and without intending it she seemed to be 
 talking down to him from her saddle. 
 
 "You remind me," she said, "of a supreme actor, 
 who, having put a humble poet's thought into action 
 and astonished the author, comes to him and says, 
 Now that I have shown you how utterly incapable you 
 are of embodying your own ideas, I leave you to act 
 them out yourself. It isn't magnanimous, Mr. Burt, to 
 show me what you alone can accomplish, and then 
 expect me to accomplish it. I should think you could 
 see that." 
 
 For a moment they looked into each other's eyes as 
 he stood there, and he had to look up. His was a frank, 
 unperturbed expression, which the woman could read 
 much more swiftly than he could read hers, in which 
 several contending emotions were softly blended. 
 
 "It would be too bad," he said, "if it should appear 
 that in bringing you out here I had any purpose of my 
 own to gain." 
 
 "It may not have been your purpose," she replied, 
 "but it is surely the result to make me feel how helpless 
 I am without your assistance. That is bad enough, but 
 it is worse to have to acknowledge to you that you have 
 succeeded." 
 
 There was just the faintest flush on her cheek as she 
 said this, but he did not notice it, although he was looking 
 straight at her. 
 
 But some one else saw it as she peered like a lynx 
 between the trees. 
 
 "Miss Bussey," he said, "I haven't a bit of finesse. 
 You must have discovered it before this. I have spoken 
 so confidently to you about matters that I ought to have 
 known were outside of your experience, that you have
 
 i 9 2 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 overestimated my ability. There is nothing in the 
 consummation of this project that any straightforward, 
 discreet man may not carry out with the ability that most 
 men have. Had I thought for one moment that I 
 was capable of it alone I should have held my tongue." 
 
 As he was looking straight into her face as he spoke, 
 she pulled off one of her gauntlets and offered him her 
 hand. 
 
 "Mr. Burt," she said, "there is no good reason why we 
 should not remain friends, even if we cannot be partners. 
 I think you are honest and frank. Had we not better go 
 back?" 
 
 A moment later they were riding over the path by 
 which they had come. 
 
 The unkempt figure in the trees had watched them 
 with a straining intentness that gave her form a nervous 
 poise and her face an expression of singular concentration. 
 Not a movement had escaped her. She could not hear 
 the words, nor would she have understood them if she 
 had, but the attitudes, the gestures, the motions of 
 their mouths as they spoke, were to her means of arriving 
 at some conclusion in her own mind. She saw Miss 
 Bussey come close to her companion and lean over a 
 little in her saddle to speak to him, and she noticed 
 that their voices were subdued. She even saw with her 
 clear, penetrative sight the slight flush of colour on 
 Miss Bussey's face as she drew off her gauntlet and gave 
 the man her hand, and as she saw it she let a little 
 voluntary sigh of relief escape from her, as the untutored 
 observer will when watching a melodrama that has 
 enlisted all her sympathies and that comes to a desired 
 crisis. 
 
 She crouched as they rode away, still looking after 
 them, and when they were gone she came out in the
 
 "PLUM HONEY" 193 
 
 sunlight on the rocks, sat down and, clasping her knees 
 with her interlaced fingers, swayed her body to and 
 fro with some kind of rhythmic impulse of satisfaction. 
 Perhaps she had discovered something with her natural 
 clairvoyance that would have passed unheeded by 
 finer vision, for she stared into the sunlit expanse and 
 said audibly: 
 
 "Sure sure. They be plum honey, sartin'."
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 SOME WILD ROSEBUDS 
 
 IT required much patience and forbearance to 
 manage Aunt Sussex, but what will not affection do 
 even with the obstinacy of age and prejudice. The old 
 lady shut herself up in her room when Mr, Burt called, 
 and for some time after his departure gave out strong 
 intimations of going back to Tennessee to rest her bones. 
 
 While Miss Kate had been trying to learn something 
 about the resources of Franklin and doing her best to 
 look at the timber through Mr. Burt's eyes, Sylvia was 
 taking a lesson in fly-fishing from Mr. Tony Brahm. 
 
 "Once more, old red rag," she had said to her Gari- 
 baldi in a girlish, apostrophe, "once more, and then to 
 the rag-bag, you dear old faithful fright." So it had 
 gleamed along the banks of the Kitchomony that day, 
 to the gladdening of Tony for the last time. The next 
 morning Sylvia and Penelly set out for Chambersburg 
 to do their shopping, and Tony, who was going to New 
 York on a flying trip, accompanied them to their 
 destination. 
 
 The coast being clear and Kate having the day upon 
 her hands, she naturally enough paid Unc'l Dan'l a 
 visit. She had a well-defined belief that she was to be 
 left undisturbed to her own fancies for one day. 
 
 If she had known that John Burt would intercept her 
 she would not have gone. Let us be just to her. Of all 
 things in the world she would have shrunk from throwing 
 
 194
 
 SOME WILD ROSEBUDS 195 
 
 herself in his way so soon after that ride. But even 
 maiden modesty cannot arrange these matters. No 
 sooner had she seated herself at Unc'l Dan'l's door and 
 begun to beam securely upon him, than she saw Pete 
 bring John Burt's horse to his door, and the next moment 
 John Burt issued therefrom and saw her encamped 
 there as if to intercept him. She got up instantly, saying:' 
 
 "I did not know that he was here, Unc'l," and making 
 a hasty excuse, started off down the slope. 
 
 But John Burt was not going to let her escape that way. 
 When he came within ten feet of her and she saw that 
 she could not avoid him without sacrificing dignity to 
 flight, she turned round and, drawing herself up, said: 
 
 "I did not know that you were here." 
 
 "It is needless to tell me that, Miss Bussey," he replied 
 politely. "But I am glad that I am here otherwise 
 I should not have seen you for several days, and I have 
 something to tell you touching the mountain lands." 
 
 "Can you not call at the house?" 
 
 "No. I cannot. If I am to be of any service to you 
 I must forego some of the conventional regulations, 
 however delightful. I will walk down the slope with you 
 and tell you, making it as brief as possible." 
 
 What was to be done by maiden modesty thus on 
 the alert ? Nothing. It held itself in reserve, and before 
 it knew what it was up to was walking down the incline 
 with hard practicality close beside it. 
 
 "I have just received a letter from New York," said 
 Mr. Burt, "which makes it important to look after that 
 strip of timber immediately, and I wanted to say to you 
 that if you wished to continue the partnership I can 
 double $500 for you. It is necessary to act instantly 
 in these matters, and that ought to excuse what looks 
 like impetuosity in my manner."
 
 196 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 Her bewilderment puzzled him a little. He was not 
 good at interpreting a woman in such a crisis. 
 
 "You want me to give you $500?" she said inquir- 
 ingly. "Is that all? I will send it over to you." 
 
 "No that is not all, Miss Bussey. My assistance is 
 only temporary and the time is short. I should like to 
 know before I leave the Grange that my presence here 
 has been understood." 
 
 They came to the little ledge of shale where he 
 had first seen her, and as she turned and stopped 
 in the path, as if she could not frame the proper 
 reply while walking, their positions were for the 
 moment very much as they had been when her beautiful 
 disdain and unexpected demeanour of authority had so 
 astonished him. Neither of them thought of the trivial 
 coincidence, nor remarked at the moment the evidences 
 of the waning summer in the picture of which they were 
 again the centre. The wet meadows below had already 
 turned from a rusty gray to a yellow-and-tan vista with 
 sunset streaks, and the fires of the smouldering summer 
 were beginning to show their sparks in the Virginia 
 creeper and the Indian dyes in the crevices of the rocks. 
 If there was any swift and half-conscious recollection in 
 John Hurt's mind of the former meeting, it went no 
 further than a comparison of the gentle and inquiring 
 face with the hauteur and contempt that it once wore. 
 He had paused a moment as this comparison went 
 through his mind, and then, conscious that he was staring 
 at her rather intently, he said : 
 
 "I should feel more comfortable wherever I may be 
 if I knew that you ceased to remember me as an impudent 
 interloper." Then he looked through the opening in 
 the aspens, out into the southwestern expanse, lying so 
 dreamily vague and deliciously abstract. He did it as
 
 SOME WILD ROSEBUDS 197 
 
 one might do who is in danger of becoming too personal 
 and concrete. 
 
 "Mr. Burt," replied Miss Bussey, with straightforward 
 frankness, "it is somewhat ungenerous to refer to my 
 mistake when you have already so kindly corrected it. 
 Wherever you may be, I shall continue to think of you 
 as a singularly masterful man who came to my assist- 
 ance and went away without any reward. I would 
 endeavour to thank you now if I were not sure that it 
 would sound poverty-stricken." 
 
 He looked at her with a quick turn of the head, as if 
 her vanishing imperiousness had made a soft retreating 
 sound; the fair, unperturbed and simple honesty of face, 
 that so well corresponded to the words, touched the 
 magnanimity of him, and a little pang of shame went 
 through him as he thought of his superior airs and lordly 
 audacity with that helpless old aunt. 
 
 "It never once occurred to me," he said, "that I was 
 entitled to any thanks or reward. I came almost acci- 
 dentally upon a great task and found a lady baffled and 
 helpless in front of it. Miss Bussey, it is a very common 
 masculine virtue to turn such an occasion into a rescue. 
 I wish you would not speak of it. I should like to have 
 been understood that is all." 
 
 "Why will you not make some allowance for us? A 
 practical man was such a curiosity to us. It was not 
 very nice of you to be indignant because we were scared 
 to death." 
 
 "Scared!" he repeated with a smile of incredulity. 
 
 "Yes; at first you know/ But you see I am over it 
 now now that we have succeeded in scaring you away. " 
 
 "Ah," he said to himself, "it is my going away that 
 accounts for this gracious familiarity. Let me try and 
 not forget that."
 
 i 9 8 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 To her he said: "You are acknowledging that my 
 going away is a relief to you. There you have the 
 advantage of me, for I am not sure that it will be a relief 
 to me. I feel as if I were leaving something undone 
 that called to me out of a past." 
 
 The soft south breeze came up laden with burnt 
 odours from the meadows and blew one or two locks of 
 hair over his forehead as he stood there apparently 
 musing. She looked at him furtively, and the mellow, 
 translucent glory of the hour seemed to soften and push 
 him backward to that past, as if, indeed, he were not an 
 overseer intent on vulgar drudgery, but closing up a 
 gap that had widened between the past and the present. 
 The low hum of the dying summer came to their ears like 
 the music of other days with a voluptuous and reminis- 
 cent suggestion. Then they walked along the bank 
 of the Kitchomony and their conversation dropped into 
 accord with the monotone about them. Coming to a 
 diverging path, Miss Bussey turned into it as if by habit, 
 John Burt walking by her side as if in a dream, and 
 presently they arrived at the little plot where her 
 grandmother, her mother and father and her brother 
 were buried. She stood still a moment to regard it 
 pensively, and then as he was talking she leaned her 
 elbow on one of the stone posts of the enclosure. The 
 conspicuous white monument in the centre of the space 
 bore the name of Kate Bussey. John Burt lifted his hat 
 and surveyed the plot with a passing wonder at its 
 neglect. 
 
 "I can understand," he said softly, "how it would 
 affect you to have the property fall into other hands. " 
 
 "If she were alive, Mr. Burt," replied Kate, "she 
 would have availed herself of your talents and knowl- 
 edge. She always had executive and loyal men about
 
 SOME WILD ROSEBUDS 199 
 
 her. You see I am not at all like her, more is the 
 pity." 
 
 "She must have been an extraordinary woman from 
 all I hear about her, " said John Burt, stupidly ignoring 
 the live beauty for the dead virtues. "I suppose that 
 talent and bravery simply obeyed the law of attraction. 
 You need have no fear, Miss Bussey, that the law died 
 with her." 
 
 " No, no, " replied his companion, as if making acknowl- 
 edgment to herself. "I have inherited her estates, but 
 not her sovereignty. I cannot command anything. " 
 
 John Burt stepped over the chain that ran from 
 post to post of the enclosure and began picking off some 
 of the little wild rosebuds that clustered round the 
 monument. 
 
 "Odd," he said, "that you should insist upon feeling 
 that way when the first thing I did when I arrived here 
 was to ask you to command me. " 
 
 She leaned upon the stone post and looked away to 
 the purpling perspective in the west as he snipped off 
 the buds. There was not more than six feet of space 
 between them, but he slowly turned and looked across 
 the bluff to the reflected lights in the east. The points of 
 the compass suddenly seemed to bear some relation to 
 the conversation. 
 
 . "I believe you did," she said musingly. "But that 
 was before I tried to be a business woman. " 
 
 "And now that you are trying to be " he inquired. 
 
 "It seems to be too late," she replied. 
 
 "Too late to do all that I intended," he said, "but 
 certainly not too late to tell you what it was so that you 
 can do it yourself. There is that pasture to be drained. " 
 
 She lifted her hand with an involuntary appeal, as if 
 deprecating the man's return to the soil. In spite of
 
 2 o THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 her, the subtle influence of the air and hour were weav- 
 ing out of her fancy a spell of romance about him as he 
 stood there at her grandmother's grave with the rose- 
 buds in his hand; and to bring him back to the rosier 
 path, she said: 
 
 "You may give me some of the buds. " 
 
 He promptly handed her the little wild flowers over 
 the chain. With a swift and dexterous magic of which 
 he was not capable she gave part of them an interwoven 
 twist, transforming them into a tiny nosegay, caught a 
 pin deftly from somewhere, and before he knew it was 
 pinning the bunch on his coat. 
 
 "It will be more real," she whispered, "if the live 
 Kate gave them to you, and you can say that it was all 
 she had," and then she turned away as if an expiation 
 had been made. 
 
 As for John Burt, it seemed to him that the little act 
 was strangely sufficient, and he wanted to thank her, 
 but such thanks as words could convey were ashamed 
 of their clumsiness and stuck in his throat. As he stood 
 there strangling himself with the unexpressed, she 
 turned away as if it were time to beat a retreat, and 
 then she thought of something, and suddenly facing 
 about and tucking the remainder of the buds in her 
 belt, she came up to him and gave him her hand with a 
 good-by impulse. 
 
 " I feel, " she said, "that I have not been as candid as 
 you have. Is it an absolute necessity that you should 
 abandon the place at this time?" Then she gently 
 withdrew her hand. 
 
 "Thank Heaven, Miss Bussey, " he replied promptly, 
 "I have never yet been reduced to absolute necessity. 
 Do you ask me to stay?" 
 
 She did not dare to look at him now. She felt that
 
 SOME WILD ROSEBUDS 2.1 
 
 maiden modesty had imperiled itself and that he was 
 staring at her eagerly. 
 
 "Suppose," she softly said, "that, as the mistress of 
 the place, I command you. ' ' 
 
 "My first impulse, I feel sure," said John Burt, 
 "would be to obey." 
 
 "But it is so preposterously selfish to ask you to 
 relinquish all other interests because because this 
 place needs you so. " 
 
 " Miss Bussey, " he said, but he seemed to be speaking 
 to himself, "it seems to me at this moment that I have 
 no other interests in the world. " 
 
 At which speech they both began looking at the 
 opposite points of the compass again, a proceeding on 
 his part which apparently added to his vocabulary, for 
 he went on: 
 
 " Upon my word, it looks just now as if my sole interest 
 was to bring whatever strength I have to your aid. 
 Does that startle you?" 
 
 "No," she murmured, "I am not startled." 
 
 At that he turned still farther away, but it was so easy 
 a movement that it scarcely indicated how delicate the 
 conversation was becoming. 
 
 "I wish," he said, "that you would carry your frank- 
 ness so far as to say that you do not wish me to go. " 
 
 "I certainly do not. I am beginning to have some 
 little practical sense. Do you wish me to beg you? " 
 
 He looked at her admiringly. " It may be fantastic," 
 he said, "but as you stand there with your head turned 
 away it seems to me that it would sound very pleasant 
 if you did." 
 
 "Very well, Mr. Burt," she said softly, "please stay, 
 for my sake. Is there anything else humiliating that 
 you can think of?"
 
 202 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 "Nothing," he said, "unless it should be my going 
 away now." 
 
 At this he checked himself suddenly, as was his wont 
 when finding himself drifting into sentiment. 
 
 "I am going in the morning," he said, "to look at 
 that timber in the Black Ravine. How long I shall be 
 away is uncertain, but while I am gone you will look 
 after the place. Time flies." 
 
 "Yes. What am I to do?" 
 
 "I will write the instructions down for you before I 
 leave. You must take those stumps out of the south 
 grove where I have cut the timber." 
 
 "Yes," she replied, looking at him with a beautiful 
 obedience and then at her white hands. "However 
 shall I pull them out?" 
 
 "You will drop a note to Mr. Seton at the Quarries. I 
 have already spoken to him. He will send two men and 
 a team. They are to be piled upon the grass-field, where 
 they will burn them. " 
 
 She was moving away now as if his practicality 
 repelled her. i 
 
 "You see," he said, "I am only a drudge, but I was 
 thinking of your assuming your sovereignty. Every- 
 body here will jump to obey you when you do " 
 
 He turned half round toward the monument, lifted his 
 hat with easy dignity, and finished his speech: "And 
 then, Miss Bussey, the real Kate of the Catalpas will 
 live again." 
 
 In another moment she was gone. He stood there 
 looking after her. The croon of the summer was about 
 it all. The shadow of the monument had crept out 
 eastward some feet. A cricket was strumming in the 
 tangle at its base. He noticed the burnt odour of the 
 field asters that hung heavy in the still air. He put his
 
 SOME WILD ROSEBUDS 203 
 
 hand on the stone post preparatory to leaping over, and 
 said as he did so, "I wonder if I am as practical and 
 strong as she thinks I am. " Then he gave his breast an 
 involuntary blow as if to reassure himself, and his fist 
 fell upon the little buds pinned there. It gave him 
 something of a start, as if he had struck sentiment in 
 the face. 
 
 Then he jumped over the chain and went off along 
 the Kitchomony.
 
 THE ONUS PROBANDI 
 
 WITH a distinct glow on her face, Kate took her way 
 across the fields toward the house. She noticed before 
 she had gone far that she had dropped one of the little 
 buds from her belt. She stopped and counted them. 
 She was sure there had been five and now there were only 
 four. She turned back and went through the grass 
 looking for it, and when she found it she laughed. All 
 of which indicated that she was in a buoyant condition 
 of mind. 
 
 The hot sunshine fell gleamingly upon the stretches 
 of tall grass, and there was little shade, for the field had 
 been denuded and often plowed. She did not appear 
 to notice the glare as if there were discomfort in it, for 
 as she sat down on a familiar boulder by the side of the 
 path and fingered the buds she hummed a tune, and 
 these were the words of it : 
 
 "Yes, there I'll soothe thy griefs to rest, 
 
 Each sigh of sorrow quell, 
 On a summer's night, in the starry light, 
 By the banks of the blue Moselle." 
 
 "What a miserable imbecile he must think I am," she 
 said to herself with a confidential look of dismay. As 
 she sat alone on the stone and gave no heed to the 
 bumblebee that seemed to be weaving a circle round 
 her thrice, she had gone back to the girlish illusions of 
 other days. "Perhaps grandmother sent him," she 
 said. "What a notion!" Jumping up, she started 
 again through the grass for the house. 
 
 204
 
 THE ONUS PROBANDI 205 
 
 So preoccupied was she with these idle fancies as she 
 slipped lightly through the grasses that she did not 
 notice Leesha's turbaned head at the kitchen door, and 
 saw the mammy only when she was running clumsily 
 across the lawn to meet her. When within a few feet 
 of Kate she threw up her hands and exclaimed: 
 
 "De gemman's come, de gemman's come, honey 
 suah." 
 
 Kate looked at her in amazement, but a little knife- 
 point touched her somewhere. 
 
 "What gentleman?" she asked. "What are you 
 talking about?" 
 
 "Mars Jurininham, Miss Kate, suahs de Lor's worl'. 
 He's dar on de gallery and yer aunt's waitin' fer yer. 
 Y'r come right in frou de kitchen and slick yessef. 
 Goddlemity, dars a heap o' trunks and boxes, and a 
 bunch o' posies looks like de Easter mornin'." 
 
 Before Kate knew what she was about she had turned 
 with an irresistible and meaningless impulse and taken 
 two steps of retreat. Then recollecting herself, she came 
 back, and Leesha, still in an excited state, said: 
 
 "Fer Gawd's sake, Miss Kate, yer lookin' like a spook 
 and yer white frock's stuck full o' beggar's lice outen de 
 fiel'." 
 
 Kate gathered herself together and went straight into 
 the kitchen. Disregarding Leesha's efforts to slick her 
 up, she slipped up the back stairs, swiftly and softly as 
 if pursued, and came into her room like a ghost. The 
 window was open and she put her head out and listened. 
 If she expected to hear the crack of doom, she was dis- 
 appointed. The croon of the summer did not intermit. 
 The trees and the vines breathed an odorous lullaby. 
 The soft wind fanned her and the faint " plunky-plunk " 
 of a banjo was wafted to her by it. The great promises
 
 ao6 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 of space looked at her unchanged from the Maryland 
 line. 
 
 She had grown cold, and her hands trembled a little 
 as she held the curtain aside. Presently some one came 
 out on the veranda and the voice of Mr. Journingham 
 came unmistakably up to her. He was talking rapidly. 
 She heard his heavy tread, and there were occasional 
 ejaculations of surprise and sympathy from Aunt 
 Sussex. A momentary impulse seized Kate as she stood 
 there to go back down the stairs as softly as she came, 
 to slip out noiselessly and fly across those fields helplessly 
 toward the sound of that distant banjo. It was only a 
 passing zephyr of impulse, and so far as she was conscious 
 of it she must have been ashamed of it. She let the cur- 
 tain fall and tried to array herself as speedily as possible. 
 What would her man-of-all-work think of such weakness. 
 As she hurriedly caught at her apparel she dropped the 
 buds from her belt to the floor, and as she picked them 
 up she became aware for the first time that there was an 
 enormous bouquet of exotic flowers on her stand before 
 the mirror and that the atmosphere of the room was 
 cloying with the scent. What had she been thinking 
 about not to have noticed it when she came in. She 
 looked at her little buds a moment, and then, going to her 
 grandmother's big Bible, opened it and dropped them in, 
 letting the lid fall as if she had buried them. Then she 
 summoned her self-respect. The hour had sounded in 
 which she was to prove herself a Bussey. 
 
 So softly and slowly did she come down the stairs 
 that the two persons on the veranda did not hear her, 
 and she appeared in the doorway very pale in spite of 
 herself, but erect and determined. Mr. Journingham 
 came at her with ponderous agility. 
 
 "Kate," he said, holding out both his hands, which
 
 THE ONUS PROBANDI 207 
 
 seemed to wear an expression of avidity "My Kate," 
 and pulling her toward him he kissed her on the forehead 
 with unmistakable proprietorship. Something in the 
 contact made him look narrowly into her face. 
 
 "You have not been ill, I trust." 
 
 "No, no; only anxious. We feared you were lost on 
 the Oceanica." 
 
 "It is the most astonishing thing I ever heard of," 
 said Aunt Sussex. "He says that he has written us 
 three letters." 
 
 "What one might call the hand of Providence, I 
 assure you," exclaimed Mr. Journingham, still holding 
 Kate's hands. "Was booked on the Oceanica sure 
 enough, but had to change my mind at the last 
 moment. Your letter, my dear, necessitated some 
 radical changes and preparations, but I wrote you, 'pon 
 honour. The onus probandi, as they say in court, is on 
 your beastly mail service." 
 
 He was a florid and ample example of the respectable 
 middle-aged Briton, with a massive head and face, small 
 steely eyes, iron-gray hair and whiskers, and a slightly 
 portly impressiveness of mien, altogether appearing to 
 one as a somewhat pampered club bachelor accustomed to 
 having the world adjust itself to his innumerable small 
 personal wants; and therefore, in spite of his overflowing 
 amenity, his vitality was somewhat dominating if not 
 exacting, and Kate felt herself shrinking from it without 
 knowing why. 
 
 "Yes, yes, ladies, I shall look into this matter of the 
 letters," he said. "I shall certainly bring your postal 
 authorities to book. But that can wait. Of course you 
 are anxious to hear about my trip. By St. Swithin, we 
 had a scurvy time of it crossing yes, we did. 'Pon my 
 word, I can't help feeling sorry for the rest of the passen-
 
 2o8 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 gers when I think I am the only one with a sufficient 
 reward. I suppose," he said, turning to Aunt Sussex, 
 "my traps had better be taken to my room. You have 
 Pierson, of course. Very good. He can assist my man 
 with the luggage." 
 
 Aunt Sussex made an apology and hurried in to look 
 after the traps. The moment she was gone Mr. Jour- 
 ningham put his arm around Kate. 
 
 "I can understand, my dear, that my delay and 
 apparent silence must have been very cruel to you. It's 
 the most damnable state of affairs. But we shall make 
 amends. You are really glad to see me, are you not, 
 after all this suspense?" 
 
 " You have so startled me," said Kate, letting him take 
 her hand, "that I am afraid I have not recovered my 
 nerves sufficiently to appear even cordial. But I shall 
 grow accustomed to it presently." 
 
 "Yes, yes; don't bother with the past. I never do. 
 Now that I am here we shall soon settle your nerves. 
 You trust me to bring back the roses to your cheeks. 
 By Jove, don't you know that letter of yours was like 
 a bolt out of the blue knocked me off my pins like a 
 white flash in the dark. I was just sitting down to 
 dinner at the Charlton bachelor farewell to Major Phil 
 Putney when it fluttered down on my plate. We were 
 going to lose Phil, and he was to have a send-off, for he 
 had captured a widow down in Hertfordshire, as full of 
 consols as a pomegranate is full of seeds. So it was a 
 kind of melancholy 'God-bless-you-good-by-old-chap,' 
 and St. George, how he jibed us with his luck. We 
 were a set of disappointed benedicks, don't you know; 
 and the jolly dog did not spare me, for he, like the rest 
 of them, knew that I had come back from the States 
 looking blue around the gills. These things will get
 
 THE ONUS PROBANDI 209 
 
 out, my dear, when a man is .knocked down by them. 
 Now just imagine that letter of yours coming down 
 there, as I said, to hit me a stunner and give Phil a 
 crack over his impudence. By the soul of old Shake., 
 Tom Taylor couldn't have arranged it any more neatly 
 himself." 
 
 Kate listened to this with a dumb shrinking. The 
 man seemed to be explaining himself with his fists. 
 
 "It never occurred to you, of course, when you wrote 
 that letter, that it would enable me to turn the tables on 
 Putney, but it did. Those fellows knew something was 
 the matter, and it wasn't a bereavement, either. Phil 
 insisted that I should tell him what the lady said. 
 Gentlemen, I replied, she says you will have to give 
 another dinner. That was rather neat on my part, 
 don't you think, and hang me, my dear, if they didn't 
 stand up and drink a bumper to the beautiful unknown ! 
 But I must polish up a bit have a bath and see if I 
 can get the smell of the steamer off. 'Phonse, where 
 the devil are you?" (Looking at his watch.) "What 
 time do you dine?" 
 
 'Phonse, whose initial syllable had been lost by. 
 repetition, came up suddenly, a stubby, yellow-headed 
 tiger, out of livery, showing the loss in his ill-adapted 
 American tweed. 
 
 ' 'Phonse, this is your future mistress, Miss Bussey 
 for the present." 
 
 "Sarvice, M'm," said 'Phonse, making a bow and 
 shuffle, and Aunt Sussex appearing a moment later, 
 the guest went off to polish up, making a large apology 
 for having to tear himself away temporarily, and leaving 
 Kate standing there rather vacantly trying to realize 
 it all. Her dominant feeling was one of surprise. 
 Mr. Journingham was so unlike the man she remem-
 
 210 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 bered. She recalled how bravely she had pulled her 
 hand away once before as if her rights had not been 
 relinquished and his manner must conform to them. 
 "Celebrated my humiliation at a club dinner," she said 
 to herself, "as they would have celebrated the dropping 
 of a pheasant on the wing." She could not understand 
 why Mr. Journingham's character had never before 
 shown so distinctly and sharply to her. Had she been 
 blind? Now that she was face to face with the crisis 
 she had invoked, some kind of feeling half faith and 
 half hope told her that it was too preposterous to go 
 on. Something must happen that would stop it. She 
 would be frank with him and tell him the truth. Had 
 she not already -seen how readily men forgive the mis- 
 takes of a woman? She listened. The large vibrating 
 personality of Mr. Journingham disturbed the placid 
 condition of the household. She heard him in the upper 
 hall making the establishment contributary with a gusty 
 patronage. 
 
 "The bathroom water has to be carried up, you say? 
 Ah, certainly. 'Phonse will attend to it, my dear 
 madam. But if you have a rug for my feet, don't you 
 know. Thanks don't bother. I dare say I shall find 
 everything all right with Thonse's assistance." 
 
 As Kate listened to these waves of commotion break- 
 ing around her she perceived that the privilege of tub- 
 bing the distinguished guest penetrated to all parts of 
 the house. There was hurrying of feet; doors were 
 opening and shutting, and voices came from the kitchen 
 as if its sleepy routine had been interfered with. Aunt 
 Sussex came and looked out at her with wear}' dignity. 
 "My dear," she said, "you must not sit here. We shall 
 have to get Sylvia's room ready for him. He must 
 have a small room adjoining for his man. I don't think
 
 THE ONUS PROBANDI 211, 
 
 you understand the responsibilities of such an occasion. 
 You leave all the care and worry to me. But I suppose 
 I am equal to it I haven't been brought up as you 
 have," and off she hurried. 
 
 When the guest issued from his chamber, groomed 
 and polished, Kate was sitting there still, trying to 
 straighten it all out, and she heard his unabated gusto 
 in the upper hall. He was telling Aunt Sussex at what 
 hour he usually dined. "But," she heard him say, 
 "you must allow me to adapt myself to your American 
 customs. I eat but two meals. A breakfast at nine, 
 usually quite simple a cutlet or chop or deviled kidney, 
 or some trifle of that kind, a bit of omelette and a toasted 
 muffin and coffee; a dinner a simple joint with fruit 
 and pastry of any kind. Thonse will assist you if 
 desirable; he has quite a French knack, I assure you. 
 Is Miss Kate downstairs?" 
 
 As she heard him coming down, still making things 
 echo with his avowed simplicity, she felt that whatever 
 maiden seclusion had been hers was now disappearing. 
 It was not enough to concede to him some prospective 
 rights; she must be in evidence when he was not being 
 polished. 
 
 "Kate, Kate," he called in the hallway, "where are 
 you?" , 
 
 "I am here on the veranda," she answered meekly. 
 
 "Ah, of course, of course," he said, coming out pon- 
 derously in white flannels, with a small box under his 
 arm and another in his hand. 
 
 ' ' I dare say I seemed unconscionably long about it to 
 you, but everything had to be unpacked, you know, 
 and 'Phonse is a little strange to the place. Permit me." 
 
 He picked up her hand, and before she could frame a 
 protest he had slipped a jeweled ring on her finger and
 
 212 
 
 lifted the hand to his lips. As she did not look at the 
 handsome gift with a girl's glad surprise, but held her 
 head averted as if with a girl's modesty, he said: 
 
 "Let me call your attention to the gem," and he 
 moved her hand so that the light would strike the 
 facets. "I tried to match your eyes, but, by Jove, it 
 was no easy matter even in London ! " 
 
 Never in her life before had she been so tongue-tied. 
 Some kind of meaningless thanks seemed to ooze from 
 her without impulse. Up to that moment some kind 
 of an illusive hope, such as hovers in a dream and subtly 
 suggests in crises of danger that we still have the power 
 of waking up, had lent tolerance to his arrival. But 
 now, like the victim of a trance finally laid out, she felt 
 as if this little act of fealty was like the sound of the 
 undertaker's screwdriver. Some kind of smouldering 
 resentment was in her, too, that this man should not 
 notice her utter lack of interest in what was so vital to 
 him. It had never before occurred to her that he could 
 be so dull, and the first thing that a woman despises in 
 a man is the overweening dullness of an all-sufficient 
 egotism. 
 
 "I will show you the bracelets," he said, opening the 
 other box, "because I flatter myself I am something of a 
 connoisseur in that line, but I am going to reserve the 
 pleasure of clasping them until you are in full dress. I 
 want you to see the turquoises I captured them by 
 the merest chance. They came from the Caliph's 
 harem. Hold your arm up, my dear, to the light. 
 Twenty pounds each stone, I assure you; fancy that 
 against a pearl-gray silk." 
 
 Kate was lying back in her chair with the box of 
 presents in her lap. She had summoned some kind of 
 decent surprise and was trying to regard the jewels with
 
 THE ONUS PROBANDI 
 
 what would look like grateful admiration, and when 
 Mr. Journingham had exhausted his eulogium of his own 
 cleverness in securing them he got up and stood about 
 as if his flannels were entitled to some recognition as well, 
 and as they failed to elicit any from the one observer he 
 took up the burden himself. 
 
 "I suppose I shall astonish the natives with my suit, 
 but white flannels were the rage at Brighton and Bath 
 when I left. How do you think they become me ? Not 
 bad, are they? If I could have stayed over in New 
 York I'd have introduced the caper there at the St. 
 George's Club. You will find, my dear, that I have a 
 curious weakness in these matters, but I have always 
 held that a man who respects the woman of his choice 
 cannot be too fastidious in these affairs." 
 
 She said, without knowing it, that the suit seemed 
 very appropriate for the summer, but she was thinking 
 just then what her sister would say and do when she 
 met this man. Sylvia could not penetrate the mascu- 
 line disguises any quicker than her sister, but Sylvia was 
 not under bonds and had a most uncomfortable way of 
 jumping to conclusions and proclaiming them. 
 
 Any further conjectures on this point were cut short 
 a little later by the arrival of Sylvia and Penelly. They 
 were driven up from the station in a hack, and Kate 
 heard them chattering and laughing in the wood before 
 the vehicle appeared. Mr. Journingham had been so 
 interested in himself that he had not missed Sylvia 
 from the group. 
 
 "Ah, God bless me, yes ! " he said. "Sylvia, the dear 
 girl ! I was going to ask what had become of her. " 
 
 The amazement of the dear girl was outspoken. 
 She returned his salutation by open-eyed frankness. 
 
 " You almost give me a chill, " she said, " as if you had
 
 2i 4 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 risen from the dead. We gave you up and mourned 
 you with strict propriety. " 
 
 " Ha, ha ! You did, did you? Well, I natter myself, 
 Miss Sylvia, that though sometimes impeded by cir- 
 cumstances, I generally arrive before it is too late. No, 
 no, my dear girl, I have been explaining to your sister 
 that I am guiltless. The onus probandi that's a legal 
 term is on the United States mail service. There's no 
 anxiety in your face now, I am glad to see, and no 
 reason, now that I am here, why everything should not 
 go as merrily as the proverbial marriage bell ha, ha ! " 
 
 Sylvia looked anxiously into her sister's face. To 
 that searching glance there was no answering gleam of 
 merriment, and you may be sure that at the first oppor- 
 tunity the young women hurried away together to be 
 out of hearing, and the moment they were alone they 
 faced each other in silence. In that mute preludium 
 much was exchanged that subsequent words could only 
 clumsily grasp at. 
 
 "What are you going to do?" asked Sylvia in an 
 intense whisper, in which were condensed alarm, anxiety 
 and indignation. 
 
 "There appears to be but one thing to do, dear. I 
 cannot undo my own work." 
 
 "It is not done yet," exclaimed Sylvia. "Don't do 
 it. What was it you said in that letter ? Oh, Heavens, 
 why didn't you keep a copy ? You can't marry that ! 
 You know it as well as I do. If you have not the moral 
 courage to tell him, let rne tell him. I have not written 
 any letter, and I fancy he need not always arrive in time. 
 'Onus probandi' merciful powers ! " 
 
 Kate shook her head slowly. "I know how you feel, " 
 she said. "If you had written the letter you would 
 feel different. Even you could not summon a man
 
 THE ONUS PROBANDI 215 
 
 three thousand miles to tell him it was a caprice and you 
 did not know your mind." 
 
 "Yes, I could," replied Sylvia, "if he was looming up. 
 What did he say about it ? There must be some margin 
 in a letter." 
 
 "He has not said anything about it. He considers 
 me signed, sealed and delivered." 
 
 And she held up her hand with the ring on it. 
 
 Sylvia bent forward with a girl's natural eagerness to 
 look at it and then immediately recoiled with genuine 
 surprise. 
 
 " You let him do that ? You never told him ? " 
 
 "He took me at my word. What more could I tell 
 him?" 
 
 "That it was a mistake; an impulse; that you wanted 
 time to consider ; that you had offered yourself for sale and 
 the business preliminaries had to be settled; that there 
 are two persons to all bargains; that you are a grand- 
 daughter of Kate Bussey, and not a sacrificial lamb. It 
 seems to me that there was a great deal to tell him. " 
 
 While she was speaking, the voice of Mr. Journingham 
 came up to them from the lower hall : 
 
 " Kate, Kate, where are you ? " 
 
 Sylvia, with an indignant impulse, lifted her foot and 
 gave the chamber door a sudden push. It went shut with 
 a bang that rattled the sash a little and made Kate start. 
 
 "Let the Onus Probandi wait," said Sylvia. 
 
 Kate had made a little cry of protest and in a moment 
 her sister's arms were about her. 
 
 "Dear," said Sylvia, "you cannot do it. Your own 
 better nature has found a voice in me. Don't scold me. " 
 
 "There is no dependence to be placed on my better 
 nature," said Kate, erect and white and helpless. 
 "What would people think of me if I did not. "
 
 2l6 
 
 Sylvia stepped away as if to get a more exact view of 
 the remark. 
 
 "People! " she exclaimed; "what people?" 
 
 "There must be people," said Kate, "whose respect 
 is worth considering, who believe that I have inherited 
 some of the honour and staunchness of the name I bear. 
 I should not like to disappoint them utterly, merely for 
 my own convenience. " 
 
 Sylvia turned her head in the direction of her sister's 
 gaze out of the window, as if to see who the people were. 
 But there was nothing visible in the western vista but 
 vague opaline clouds sailing slowly over shadowy and 
 receding fields. 
 
 "Oh, do try and look at the matter as if you still were 
 a free agent, dear," she said. "What would people 
 think if you didn't ? What if this man should turn out 
 to be something dreadful would you still be held by a 
 careless word written in a moment of distress?" 
 
 "Oh, don't ! " cried Kate. " It is not a case of imagina- 
 tion, but of plain keeping my word. " 
 
 " But you do not answer my question. " 
 
 "It answers itself. I am pledged to one man. If he 
 should turn out to be another, I think I should be 
 excused." 
 
 "Then," said Sylvia eagerly, "that ought to settle it. 
 He has. He has come out in sheep's clothing. " 
 
 Then there came a rap on the door and Thonse was 
 there with his master's compliments and desired that 
 Miss Bussey would come down. 
 
 Kate put her hand quickly over her sister's mouth 
 and said, "I'll go down and see what he wants." 
 
 The moment she was gone, Sylvia dropped into a 
 chair and an irritating impulse opened all the faucets 
 of her emotion into her eyes.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 SISTERLY INTERVENTION 
 
 SURELY no gently bred woman was ever made more 
 miserable by her sensibilities and an incertitude of will 
 than was Kate Bussey now in the new conditions of her 
 household, and curiously enough the added poignancy 
 was furnished by Mr. Journingham's utter inability to 
 perceive it. Kate was face to face with the task of 
 explaining in some manner to him why she wrote her 
 sudden letter of acceptance. It was a humiliating duty 
 kept continually in the background by the man himself, 
 who was entirely indifferent to the motives so long as 
 the result was satisfactory. 
 
 It was impossible for a week to pass without the 
 antagonisms of two wholly unlike natures making them- 
 selves felt by sensibility writhing under the domination 
 of an utterly oblivious egotism. 
 
 Never in Mr. Journingham's experience had he found 
 himself in a place so wholly devoid of all the stimuli of 
 an artificial existence. Nothing but the hallucination 
 of a passion come rather late in life, and, as is usual in 
 such tardy cases, taking unreasonable possession of all 
 his faculties, could have made him endure the dull 
 isolation, the primitive simplicity and the dead common- 
 place of such a sojourn. The ardour of his former visit, 
 when he had the incentive of pursuit, was gone now that 
 he possessed, and scarcely anything remained but a 
 
 217
 
 ai8 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 dull impatience to get away with his prize and 
 exhibit it. 
 
 But the prize fought adroitly for time and insisted 
 upon having the momentous event governed by slow 
 decorum. There was a weak admission on her part 
 that it was inevitable, but she was determined it should 
 not be precipitate. 
 
 Do his best, the guest could not with artificial bon- 
 homie quite disguise to two such sharp-eyed women as 
 Sylvia and Kate that he was miserably out of his element. 
 All that was transcendently lovely and alluring in the 
 sequestered home life was appallingly platitudinous and 
 wearisome to a nature that had depended altogether on 
 another order of stimuli, and Nature herself seemed to 
 be reciprocal in her dislike of him and missed no oppor- 
 tunity to persecute him. She has a thousand petty 
 means of annoyance at her disposal which she never 
 shows to those whose great love for her has made them 
 immune. 
 
 Kate Bussey deserved such praise for her endeavours 
 to ameliorate his ennui with all the means at her disposal 
 as became a gentle and hospitable lady. But she soon 
 became aware of the lurking futility of it. Poor girl ! 
 her resources were limited, and did not extend much 
 beyond those that Nature placed at her disposal. She 
 thought that, like herself, he would be always glad to 
 see the Kitchomony. "The walks," she said, "are 
 our chief delight," as she led him away to the river. 
 But she found that the walks were suddenly beset with 
 new annoyances. The blackberry vines clutched at his 
 ankles with sudden viciousness. He had to stop and 
 disentangle himself repeatedly with what sounded like 
 sotto voce imprecations. He carried a palm-leaf fan and 
 an umbrella and kept the fan flourishing, for the bees
 
 SISTERLY INTERVENTION 219 
 
 and the late summer flies followed him. Kate came to 
 the enclosure where her grandmother's monument stood 
 and she pointed it out to him. He flourished his fan 
 and remarked: "What an interesting custom keep- 
 ing the remains of one's ancestors on the estate. I 
 should think it would become rather disagreeable in 
 time. My dear, I think there are less insects over there 
 by the cedars." 
 
 "Mr. Journingham, " she replied, "some 'ancestors 
 preserve forever our interest in the estate. So much 
 do I owe to them that I intend to redeem and beautify 
 it. I suppose it will shock you, but I intend to become a 
 practical woman. " 
 
 " I assure you it delights me, for I am a practical man 
 myself. " 
 
 "I am heartily glad to hear it," she said, "for I shall 
 want a practical man. There is a great deal of work to 
 be done on the place and I shall never be able to do it 
 alone. " 
 
 " No, indeed; I should think not with those beautiful 
 hands. You must let me do it, my dear. What did 
 you propose to do first ? " 
 
 " I propose to pull those stumps in the South Grove." 
 
 " Ha, ha ! Now that's capital ! By Jove, it's really a 
 good idea, don't you know. But your ideas will change, 
 my dear, believe me, before we get back from England 
 if you should ever desire to come back, or my friends in 
 London will permit you to come back. You had better 
 leave all those practical matters to me, my dear. You 
 trust me. You do, don't you ? I need not remind you 
 that in England a woman places herself in the hands of 
 her husband implicitly in these matters. Of course, 
 with faith and confidence in his larger knowledge of tho 
 world ; you do, do you not ? "
 
 220 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 "I am afraid," said Kate, "that the American woman 
 does not relinquish her individuality so readily. She 
 expects to have ideas of her own. " 
 
 "Yes, and very delightful ideas they usually are, I 
 assure you. But you have never been abroad, my dear. 
 You have no conception how large and beautiful the 
 world is into which you are about to step, quite royally, 
 I assure you. By the way, I took the liberty of sending 
 Pierson after a team. He seemed to know of a good 
 one and I expect it here on trial. I wonder if this coat 
 will be just the thing for a drive? You will pardon me, 
 but one does not know just how to dress in this climate, 
 and I think perhaps I had better slip on a dark coat. 
 What do you think? 'Phonse says this coat becomes 
 me, but he is an inveterate liar, and I have a feeling that 
 it is badly wrinkled in the back. Oh, that reminds me : 
 As Pierson is to drive, I have taken the liberty of having 
 'Phonse lay out a blue coat for him. It has a small white 
 braid on it. I fancy it will fit him. It is part of a 
 former coachman's outfit. Pierson's general appearance 
 with a whip is hardly respectful to you, my dear. " 
 
 The bent of her companion's mind annoyed her a 
 little. "Mr. Journingham," she said, "let us understand 
 each other. Did you get the impression from my letter 
 that you were to come and fetch me to England?" 
 
 His effort to be jocular only enhanced her irritation. 
 
 "By Jove," he said, "the predominant feeling, I think, 
 was, that I was being fetched to the States, nolens 
 volens, and here I am. You did not intimate in your 
 letter that my loyalty to you depended on my sacri- 
 ficing my loyalty to the tight little Isle, did you?" 
 
 "The question of loyalty did not enter my mind," 
 said Kate. "You made me an honourable offer before 
 you went away. Circumstances induced me to change
 
 SISTERLY INTERVENTION 221 
 
 my mind and accept it later. I am afraid you will 
 find an American woman more practical than you 
 suspected." 
 
 "My dear Miss Kate, I have a constitutional aversion 
 to bothering about circumstances. I accept results. 
 You are mine. Everything else is trivial. I don't 
 think you quite caught what I said about Pierson." 
 
 "Yes, I did. Pierson will not wear the coat if it is a 
 livery. Even our servants are practical. I don't think 
 you quite caught my desire to talk about ourselves 
 instead of Pierson." 
 
 "Ha, ha! Now that's not bad, my dear." Then he 
 took her hand and looked admiringly at the ring. 
 
 "Pretty good guess, that, for a fit," he said. "What 
 did your aunt think of it?" 
 
 A little bit of irony crept into her answer in spite of 
 her. 
 
 "Her eyesight is not as good as yours," she said, 
 "and I do not think she recognized the intrinsic value 
 of it." 
 
 He was still regarding it as he rejoined: 
 
 "Thirty-five pounds a mere bagatelle, I assure you. 
 It is the sentiment of it that I value." 
 
 "Oh, I haven't heard anything about the sentiment 
 of it; and to tell you the truth, Mr. Journingham, I've 
 half a mind to take it off till I do." 
 
 The repetition of such scenes, in which the man and 
 woman played at confidence and drifted apart, bristling 
 with each other's arrows, was not likely to become 
 more pleasant with time. Kate's one confidante was 
 her sister, and Sylvia's sympathies were also apt to be 
 barbed. 
 
 "Before I would be jollied in such a way," she said, 
 "I'd resort to violence."
 
 222 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 Kate did not know the word. "Jollied?" she said. 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 "Made a fool of that's the brutal English of it. 
 Wait till you are delivered. If he is so egregious in 
 white flannels, what will he be in a proprietary dress- 
 coat? It makes me shudder for you. Do you want 
 my advice get Aunty to carry on the negotiations. 
 Withdraw and let her arrange the preliminaries, if you 
 desire to escape from the net of the fowler. You let her 
 do it once before and it worked like a charm. She will 
 put on her Dolly Madison black silk and light the 
 candelabra in the back parlour and drive him out of the 
 country, but you must give her carte blanche. She 
 must tell him that you are not marrying for love (he'll 
 never believe it), but because we are up to our ears in 
 debt, and what does he propose to do about it?" 
 
 Just at this point a sudden idea popped into the 
 volatile mind of Sylvia. She opened her eyes and 
 clapped her hands: 
 
 "Oh," she cried, "I have it. Refer him to your 
 attorney. Why didn't we think of that before? It's 
 genuinely English settlements they call it, and your 
 attorney is your dear friend and adviser and is under 
 bonds like yourself. What have we been thinking 
 about. Send for the Judge, Kate, and put yourself in 
 his hands." 
 
 "I am afraid," replied Kate timidly, "that it is not a 
 matter for a lawyer. As it appears to me, it is simply a 
 question of whether a Bussey keeps her word." 
 
 "I am as much of a Bussey as you are," exclaimed 
 Sylvia, "but it does not follow that I am a worm to be 
 picked up without a squirm by the first cock robin that 
 comes my way. No more are you. If I had written 
 forty letters to that man, I'd give him to understand
 
 SISTERLY INTERVENTION 2*3 
 
 very promptly that they were conditional and not final ; 
 that they implied mutual concessions and presupposed 
 him to be a man, but now that he has come out in the 
 thinnest of disguises I have taken counsel of my sister 
 and my lawyer. Oh, Kate, let me go for the Judge this 
 minute." 
 
 It was not long after, and Judge Heckshent was lying 
 outstretched on his bed, when Sylvia set out upon what 
 she conceived to be an urgent mission in behalf of her 
 sister. A bundle of legal papers lay beside him, but his 
 mind wandered away from them and he sighed heavily 
 as he looked out the open window across to the Bussey 
 domain. Presently Folingsby came in without knock- 
 ing, wearing a wide-awake hat and carrying a dog-whip 
 in his hands. 
 
 "Got suthin' to say to me, Dad?" 
 
 "Yes; turn the key in the door and sit down here." 
 
 The young man did as he was told, falling into his 
 accustomed attitude of indifference, with his legs 
 stretched out divergently. 
 
 "Suke Turck has been to see me," said his father. 
 " I suppose she has told you." 
 
 "Yes, she told me. What's to do?" 
 
 "It's a nasty piece of business. What do you pro- 
 pose to do about it?" 
 
 "I ain't doin' anything particular. Mebbe you can 
 do suthin'." 
 
 "What do you expect me to do?" asked his father. 
 "The girl says you promised to marry her." 
 
 "Shucks, there ain't no damage done. I calculate 
 she s'pects to euchre you. How much did she want?" 
 
 "My son," said the Judge deliberately, "it is time 
 that you and I had a settlement. I have had a kind of 
 warning that my affairs ought to be put in shape. I
 
 224 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 suppose you know that you are a disgrace to your 
 father and that I must protect myself from you." 
 
 "No, I don't figger much on your settlements with 
 me. I never did. Generally speakin', you always 
 stood in my way." 
 
 His father looked at him with inexpressible yearning 
 and pity not unmingled with a speechless indignation. 
 
 The language has no phrases in which we can set the 
 speechless love of a father, baffled and impotent, but 
 ineradicable and fraught with something like loathing. 
 This mystery of the human progenitor, face to face with 
 his own work and dismayed by it while drawn to it, 
 baffles us with its antimonies in the further reaches of 
 our nature. 
 
 "I cannot appeal to your sense of honour, but I must 
 tell you that you are in duty bound to marry that girl 
 and abide by your bargain." 
 
 Folingsby looked up with a crafty half-smile. 
 
 "I guess you don't want it, Dad. What's the good of 
 sayin' it. She ain't my kind." 
 
 "No," said his father, a little tremulously, "I think 
 she is as much better than your kind as simple honesty 
 and fidelity can be. I shall take the girl's part. She 
 insists on your keeping your word with her. So shall 
 I. Heaven help me, if there is a chance left in this 
 world, I don't want to rob you of it. Go away forever, 
 Folingsby," he said with something like a sob. "I 
 cannot clean up my own life and do my duty with you 
 about. You lessen the time that I have." 
 
 "You want to be shut of me," said Folingsby, hanging 
 his head. 
 
 "Yes," replied his father with a manifest effort of 
 will that ought to have pierced his son's heart. "Yes, 
 I must be shut of you. You are killing me. I never
 
 225 
 
 could understand why you should, though as God is my 
 judge I'd die happier if my death would save you. 
 What can I do to make a man of you ? " 
 
 "Well, gimme another chance. P'r'aps if I'm off 
 and out o' your sight I'll seem to be more what you 
 want o' me. There's no use of my hangin' round here 
 till after that Englishman's gone. Mebbe I can do 
 suthin' with myself if you give me a show and money 
 enough for a starter." 
 
 A little ray of hope sprang up in the father's heart 
 that perhaps this was the turning point in his son's 
 career, and that now he might begin anew and all of the 
 reckless past would be forgotten. He laid his hand 
 on Folingsby's shoulder and said: 
 
 "My son, you still have time to do it, and while I see 
 you trying to do right you know you have a father to 
 call on. Who is that?" 
 
 A vehicle had driven up to the gate and he heard it. 
 
 "The Bussey phaeton," said Folingsby. "Miss 
 Sylvia is in it." 
 
 His father got up wearily and went to the window. 
 Sylvia called to him cheerily: "How do you do, 
 Judge? Can I speak to you a moment?" 
 
 " Yes, my dear. Will you not come in ? " 
 
 "No please come down a moment." 
 
 The Judge put on his coat. Folingsby did not offer 
 to assist him, but stood at the window, half concealed, 
 staring at Sylvia, who seemed to have come out in a 
 new and crisp summer attire. He saw his father go 
 down the path and stand a moment at the side of the 
 vehicle talking with the girl. A moment later Sylvia 
 assisted the old gentleman into it and they drove away 
 down the road. 
 
 It was entirely within the range of Folingsby's nature
 
 226 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 to connect the sudden appearance of a Bussey with his 
 father's unexpected announcement, and, without being 
 aware of the process of reasoning, to conclude that the 
 Busseys had something to do with the getting rid of him. 
 With that suspicion firmly fixed in his mind he went off 
 to hunt up his mother. 
 
 Sylvia passed out of sight down the road as if going 
 to the village, but when the trees had hidden her from 
 view she turned in at the meadows, and following an 
 old road, came slowly up the bluff among the timber. 
 
 "We shall not be disturbed here," she said, "and I 
 have a deal to tell you. I am going to talk to you as 
 if you were our lawyer and adviser and guardian as 
 you are." 
 
 Then and there the girl unbosomed herself to the 
 Judge. She told him without reservation the whole 
 private history of the Journingham affair. With 
 unmistakable ingenuousness she bared the whole busi- 
 ness of what to her seemed an intolerable injustice to 
 Kate, and you may be sure her clear vision and frank 
 dislike did not cloak any of their guest's weaknesses 
 and pretensions. She must have grown eloquent and 
 voluble in her appeal to the old man, for he listened to 
 her in a reminiscent spell patiently enough and letting 
 the ardour of the girl ring some far-away tones that were 
 strangely sweet in his memory of days long back 
 sunny and hopeful. It never once occurred to Sylvia, 
 intent only on saving her sister from what seemed to 
 her to be a dire fate, that the man she was appealing 
 to had any other interest in the matter than was fur- 
 nished by her anxiety. She did not stop to think that 
 the Judge must have hailed the marriage of Kate to a 
 wealthy Englishman as a most comfortable relief to 
 himself from a problem that had vexed him for years
 
 SISTERLY INTERVENTION 227 
 
 clearing up once and forever all the difficulties that 
 he had encountered in the estate. By no possibility 
 could this girl, steeped so thoroughly in her sisterly 
 emotion, have thought of the injustice which her plea 
 involved. She was asking the Judge to forego his 
 interests in behalf of her sister's indiscretion and lend 
 his legal acumen to the destruction of the only hope 
 he had of being adequately reimbursed for his years of 
 anxiety. And yet, so hungry was this old man's heart 
 for just this warm assault that Sylvia was making upon 
 it, that he must have forgotten his legal rights and let 
 the girl get hold of all the starved sensibilities of the 
 man. When she had exhausted herself and dashed 
 away a little drop from her eye, he seemed to rouse him- 
 self from a reverie and said, rather as if making an 
 acknowledgment to the past than as recognizing the 
 grim present: 
 
 "Of course, she must not marry Mr. Journingham if 
 it can be prevented." 
 
 Whereupon Sylvia seized his wrinkled hand with 
 both her own and cried: "Oh, can it be prevented 
 honourably ? " 
 
 He was thinking. "My child," he said, "I am afraid 
 it is a matter outside of the law entirely. It is not 
 usual for a woman to give her lawyer power of attorney 
 in these matters. What was it Kate wrote to this 
 gentleman?" 
 
 "I don't know, I am sure. She does not know 
 herself." 
 
 "I am afraid she will stand to it like a Bussey, my 
 dear." 
 
 "Yes, indeed," cried Sylvia; "but will he stand to it 
 when her lawyer faces him with the conditions. Wait 
 till you see him. He wouldn't stand for a parlour
 
 228 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 forfeit if it cost him anything, or else I am a 
 mole." 
 
 The Judge laughed quietly in spite of himself. Such 
 a determined dislike was in some way refreshing to his 
 careworn faculties. 
 
 "My dear," he said finally, "I understand you, and 
 I will see Mr. Journingham as Kate's representative at 
 once. It had better be to-morrow. Kate can inform 
 him of my visit and prepare his mind. Let us hope for 
 some way out of it, my child." 
 
 Her gratitude as she parted with him irradiated and 
 melted him. 
 
 "Dear old Guardy," she said, as she flung her arms 
 about him, "you are the only one left to whom we can 
 go and we have never come to you in vain." 
 
 Then she kissed him and drove rapidly away, feeling 
 that she had in some way intercepted fate itself.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 A THUNDERSTORM 
 
 MR. JOURNINGHAM did not forego his intention of 
 bringing the disreputable United States mail to book, and 
 on one of his solitary visits to the village he met Penelly 
 Seton. They had a long conversation, and Mr. Journing- 
 ham learned something from her that surprised him. The 
 information which she gave him was used later, as will 
 be seen. The day after Sylvia's visit to the Judge the 
 ladies of the Grange were sitting in the afternoon on the 
 veranda watching a northwestern thunderstorm com- 
 ing up ominously, with deep mutterings and electric 
 gleams. A thunderstorm was one of their few luxuries, 
 and they always reveled in- the summer drama of the 
 skies, its very violence and copiousness awakening 
 some kind of glad awe. Sylvia had called to her sister 
 to come down and see the storm, and quickly discovering 
 that Mr. Journingham was shy of it, she allowed a little 
 bravado to embellish her admiration. To a stranger an 
 active storm in that region was not likely to inspire 
 sentiments of delight, particularly if that stranger was a 
 metropolitan; and when the flashes came sharp and 
 blinding, with an almost simultaneous crack as if a 
 measureless rifle had split the heavens, he proposed as 
 a mere matter of prudence that they come inside. But 
 Sylvia would not miss it for the world. She sat down 
 on the edge of the step and became an overenthusiastic 
 spectator, clapping her hands at every deafening peal 
 
 329
 
 330 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 and shouting "Glory!" when it seemed as if the atmos- 
 phere had ignited. Presently a premonitory wind 
 began to blow, heavy with piney fragrance, bending the 
 chestnuts and scattering the tassels. A fathomless, 
 translucent shadow seemed to crawl upon the world. 
 It was full of scurrying leaves and stems, and Sylvia sat 
 there staring into it, her dress fluttering and her hair 
 blowing 'about her face. 
 
 "My dear," said Mr. Journingham to Kate, who was 
 placidly lying back in a steamer chair which he had 
 provided for her, "I am compelled to ask you to retire 
 into the house. I trust that you will regard my wishes. 
 This looks like one of your American tornadoes. " 
 
 He held the large screen door partly open and bent 
 forward to escort her. As he did so a vivid flash lit him 
 up and he looked rather ghastly. The old house bent 
 a little in the centre under the weight of sound. 
 
 "It will be over in a minute," answered Kate. "I 
 should not like to miss it. " 
 
 "We are Indians," cried Sylvia defiantly-^" see God 
 in storms and hear him in the winds. All good Christians 
 get under the bed. " 
 
 A moment later the big drops began to patter and 
 the women came inside the screen door and stood there 
 watching and listening, while Mr. Journingham walked 
 the hall and set his growl upon it all as "damnable 
 folly." Still, it was well worth seeing. There was 
 something exultant and refreshing in the riotous down- 
 pour, and it only lasted five minutes. The peals sounded 
 more distant. The air grew more bright. A golden 
 radiance fell upon everything, and it rained diamonds. 
 At the height of it, up drove Judge Heckshent to remark 
 as the women came out to meet him, "What a beautiful 
 shower. "
 
 A THUNDERSTORM 231 
 
 When the commonplaces were over he said he had 
 come to have a little talk with Mr. Journingham, and if 
 the ladies would excuse them they would go into the 
 parlour, where they would not be disturbed. And at 
 this the three women fled discreetly to Kate's room and 
 sat there with the door ajar, trying their best to feel that 
 the beautiful storm had blown Judge Heckshent to their 
 assistance. 
 
 "I should just like to see the Onus Probandi at the bar 
 of justice," whispered Sylvia. "I think I'll just slip 
 down and take a peep." 
 
 "You will sit still and behave yourself," said her 
 aunt, "and try and understand that your sister has 
 come to a point in her life where these matters must be 
 left in the hands of discreet and honourable gentlemen." 
 
 The Judge sat down at the parlour table, laid a small 
 packet of papers in front of him, put on his spectacles, 
 and then, lying back in his chair, cleared his throat, 
 gave his neck a liberating twitch and began quite 
 deliberately. 
 
 "Mr. Journingham," he said, "I have been the 
 attorney for this family for many years. The grand- 
 mother of Miss Kate Bussey honoured me with her 
 confidence and intrusted me with her legal business. 
 In addition to that, when Miss Bussey 's father was 
 dying, he placed me under a solemn pledge to be a 
 guardian of his daughters, who have not failed to consult 
 me in all matters appertaining to the family and the 
 estate. You will therefore see that there is no impro- 
 priety in my speaking to you of the proposed alliance 
 of this house with yours. You know, I suppose, that 
 the estate is heavily encumbered?" 
 
 " I am aware, " said Mr. Journingham, "that you hold 
 the bond, and I can well understand that you take a
 
 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 personal interest in the property. My interest is not 
 with the realty. " 
 
 The Judge winced a little at the imputation of this 
 speech, but he merely gave his neck another twitch and 
 proceeded deliberately: 
 
 " Had my interest in the estate been greater, " he said, 
 "than my fealty to these girls, and the sacred promise 
 to their father, the title would have passed long ago. 
 You are possibly doing me a great injustice. " 
 
 "If you will pardon me, Judge," said Mr. Journing- 
 ham, with considerable self-complacency, "I do not 
 exactly see that I am under any obligation to consider 
 your interests in the matter. Will you explain 
 yourself?" 
 
 " I will try to do so, sir, " replied the Judge with con- 
 trasting softness of speech. " It is well, perhaps, for you 
 to understand clearly at the outset that Miss Bussey's 
 inclination to accede to your wishes, if indeed she has 
 committed herself finally, was induced primarily by a 
 desire to save the estate, rather than by any romantic 
 preference in the matter. If you will get that well 
 understood, it will enable us to discuss the matter more 
 practically. " 
 
 At this Mr. Journingham flared a little. 
 
 "I am bound to tell you, sir, that if there is any mis- 
 apprehension, it is on your part. I have the lady's 
 personal pledge to me in black and white, and I resent 
 %.ny imputation that she will so far dishonour herself 
 as to ask for an escape through her attorney. " 
 
 "Would you object to letting her attorney see that 
 letter?" asked the Judge calmly. 
 
 Mr. Journingham jumped to his feet. "You astonish 
 me, sir ! " he said, as he buttoned his coat over his ample 
 breast. "You do not seem to be aware of the code
 
 A THUNDERSTORM 233 
 
 among gentlemen, who do not show the private letters 
 of a lady." 
 
 Mr. Journingham then began to pace about in the 
 space between the table and the bay, and by the manner 
 in which he breathed it might have occurred to a less 
 guileless observer than the Judge that he was pumping 
 up his indignation. 
 
 "That being the code," said the Judge, "among 
 gentlemen, let me request that you will not again refer 
 to a matter which cannot be put in evidence among 
 lawyers. As Miss Bussey's adviser, I shall feel bound 
 to tell her that her commitment under stress to some 
 kind of provisional reopening of sentimental relations 
 with you has no legal weight whatever, and is liable to 
 readjustment whenever under more mature guidance 
 she shall take into view all the interests that are to be 
 conserved. " 
 
 Mr. Journingham, who had by this time worked him- 
 self into a purplish condition of inflation, turned squarely 
 upon the Judge with his ample chest-front rounded out 
 portentously. The Judge held up his hand as calmly 
 as if upon the bench and addressing a culprit. 
 
 "One word more," he said, "before you reply. Miss 
 Bussey from childhood has relied upon my advice, and I 
 have no reason to believe that she will not be guided by 
 it in this instance. You ought to see that the nature of 
 ^that advice will be shaped by your disposition to regard 
 Miss Bussey's interests rather than your own. " 
 
 The Judge up to this point felt and spoke like a man 
 who instinctively knows his antagonist's weaknesses. 
 He was aggravatingly deliberate and calmly superior, 
 as one who had the whip-hand. But the slow, incisive 
 and formal manner was like a whip-lash to his companion, 
 who was now standing rather toweringly in front of him.
 
 234 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 "By Heavens, sir!" said the Englishman, "I will not 
 have it. It does not become me as the defender of that 
 lady's purity of purpose to hear her integrity of character 
 dragged down to the pettifogging level of a country 
 attorney. Who are you, sir, to impugn the loyalty of a 
 lady with your infernal disinterestedness. By what 
 right do you talk to me of your interest in the family, 
 when your interest is entirely in this worthless domain 
 for which you expect to get the highest price and use 
 your advice with a simple pure-minded lady to your own 
 profit. By the gods, sir, I should be warranted in any 
 circle of gentlemen in demanding an apology. Yes, I 
 would, sir when you bring the faith and loyalty of a 
 lady who is to be my wife into question. " 
 
 Mr. Journingham was now pumped to high pressure, 
 and as his indignation rose in apparent obedience to 
 voice and gesture the Judge watched the process with 
 equanimity. He had seen it done before, and sat it out 
 calmly, to deliver sentence when it was over. 
 
 "Permit me to remind you, sir," said Mr. Journing- 
 ham, with a resonance that sounded at the moment like 
 virtuous indignation, "permit me to remind you, that 
 your relation to this affair will not bear examination. 
 I understand that your son has for years been encouraged 
 to look upon Miss Bussey as his by rights he went so 
 far as to thrust his proposal upon her, and it does not 
 seem to occur to you that if she was under any stress, as 
 you call it, it was the stress of that young man's advances, 
 and like any lady in distress she turned to a gentleman 
 for rescue. I can understand that you would lend your- 
 self to your son's indiscretions with a father's weakness, 
 but you must not suppose, sir, that I am in any measure 
 disposed to condone his crimes, and when my letters 
 disappeared from the post-office I believe as a lawyer
 
 A THUNDERSTORM 235 
 
 you can see that a gentleman brought up under English 
 laws is not going to sentimentalize over a plain duty to 
 himself and the community. I propose, sir, to put the 
 United States postal authorities upon the track of your 
 son. I shall leave you to judge of the disinterestedness 
 of your position when all the facts are known. By the 
 gods, sir, I am not so ignorant of law as you suppose, 
 and I propose to assume the offensive whenever it 
 becomes necessary to vindicate the honour of a lady a 
 lady, sir, let me remind you again, who is to become 
 my wife. " 
 
 During this delivery the Judge appeared to shrink a 
 little. The whip seemed to have passed from his hands. 
 His lip trembled a little and he said feebly : 
 
 "Very well, Mr. Journingham, you have introduced a 
 subject quite foreign to the matter in hand, and I cannot 
 help telling you that you have introduced it like a bully. 
 I cannot see that there is anything more to be said on 
 my part. " 
 
 He got up slowly, almost painfully. 
 
 "No, I should say not," replied Mr. Journingham, 
 still pacing. "The less said, the better, perhaps, on 
 your part." 
 
 With this gust he seemed to have extinguished the 
 Judge, who made him a low and tremulous bow and went 
 slowly out through the hall, climbed into his vehicle 
 and drove away, Mr. Journingham following him out 
 and trying to expend the reserve of his virtuous indigna- 
 tion in somewhat violent walking on the veranda. 
 
 Meanwhile, up in Kate's room, Sylvia had been vin- 
 dicating her affectionate interference in Kate's behalf 
 by praising the Judge. 
 
 "I hope, dear," she said, "that you will brighten up 
 now that your affairs are in the hands of a competent
 
 236 
 
 attorney who has given Mr. Journingham clearly to 
 understand what you could never make him under- 
 stand the real state of your feelings." 
 
 "As if Kate could not speak her mind without getting 
 an attorney, " said Aunt Sussex. " I think she has been 
 brought up to understand what a woman's duties and 
 rights are when she is about to be married. If she 
 cannot inform Mr. Journingham of them, she had better 
 let me do it. " 
 
 "That's just what I told her," said Sylvia; "and I 
 reminded her of how well you succeeded with Mr. 
 Burt. " 
 
 Kate was reticent and did not express an opinion. 
 A moment later she glanced out of the window and saw 
 the Judge getting wearily into his vehicle. Something 
 in his appearance gave her an untranslatable 
 impression of his helplessness if not of collapse, 
 and the thought that perhaps his visit had been 
 futile made her toss her head with a new air of 
 defiance and resolution. She heard the emphatic 
 tread of Mr. Journingham on the veranda which had 
 the sound of a dominating drum-beat. Just then 
 Pierson drove up to the house with the mail satchel, 
 and the expectation of letters drove everything else 
 from her mind for the moment. Sylvia ran down and 
 brought back two missives. One was for Aunt Sussex 
 and the other one for Kate. 
 
 "I'll retire," Sylvia said, "until you have made up 
 your minds how much I am entitled to. Don't be 
 worried his lordship is reading his own. He has half 
 a score." 
 
 So the group scattered, and when the doors were shut 
 Kate Bussey tore open her letter and read it with curious 
 interest :
 
 A THUNDERSTORM 237 
 
 "NORTH WOODS, N. Y. 
 "Miss KATE BUSSEY. 
 
 "Honoured Mistress: I feel that it is due to you that 
 I make explanation of my prolonged absence, after the 
 promise I made you. Let me say at once that it is your 
 service that has led me on this wild and strangely hur- 
 ried journey. Had you not placed unexpected confi- 
 dence in me and confided to my endeavours your little 
 capital, I feel sure that my own ambition would not have 
 sufficed to carry me so far over this rough venture, but 
 I must tell you that, in spite of everything, your service 
 seems to have brought me unexpected good fortune. 
 I don't know how long it will last, but it looks at this 
 moment as if I had been thrust by an unseen hand into 
 the very forefront of one of the most fortuitous opera- 
 tions of this speculative age. The New York syndicate 
 that is buying up all spruce lands is probably the unwit- 
 ting instrument of Providence in your behalf. At all 
 events, I have made the most of it, with a kind of impa- 
 tient distrust in its continuance. I have slept upon the 
 ground after riding all day, and lived on army fare, to 
 be first on the spot. My noble horse gave out at South 
 Mountain three days ago died from fatigue. Kindly 
 absolve me by believing that he died in your service, 
 and by reflecting that if a horse can set such an example, 
 what may not a man do. Advise me through your 
 attorney what disposition I am to make of the money 
 that has accumulated on your investment. I trust that 
 the condition of the Catalpas is not allowed to fall back. 
 If you can hold the place in statu quo, as it were, until I 
 can get my hand upon it again, I feel sure that I shall be 
 able in time to bring it up to your own and your 
 grandmother's ideal. 
 
 " My friend Mr. Brahm wrote me from New York last
 
 238 THE CONQUERING OP KATE 
 
 week and spoke glowingly of his visit to the Grange. 
 You see, there is a sort of romantic spell about the place, 
 and once felt, one never escapes from it unless one is such 
 a drudge as your obedient servant, 
 
 "JOHN BURT." 
 
 As she read the letter with more eagerness than she 
 intended, something slipped out of it and fluttered to 
 the floor. At the same moment the door opened and 
 Sylvia cried: 
 
 " Oh, there's a picture in it ! Let me see it," and with 
 the same girlish impulse she picked it up in spite of 
 Kate's mute protest. 
 
 "What a disreputable tramp! He looks like a 
 mountain gujde," Sylvia continued; "and, did you ever ! 
 if he hasn't got some flowers in his buttonhole. Wait 
 till I get the glass," and out she flounced, utterly regard- 
 less of Kate's call to her to come back. A moment 
 later she reappeared carrying a brass-rimmed lens, and 
 going to the window began to examine the picture criti- 
 cally, paying no attention to the irritation which her 
 actions created in Kate. "Just a moment, my dear. 
 I know the buds, and they are fastened with a 
 black pin." 
 
 At this Kate snatched the picture away, and the play 
 of the leopards was for the moment interrupted by the 
 entrance of Aunt Sussex bearing a letter from Mr. Tony 
 Brahm, with unmistakable triumph. 
 
 " If you will sit down and behave yourselves," she said, 
 "I will permit you to read this letter, which breathes 
 the true spirit of chivalrous respect." 
 
 But instead of letting them read it, she read it herself 
 with considerable flourish, interpolating her admiration 
 at every convenient place:
 
 A THUNDERSTORM 239 
 
 ''UNIVERSITY CLUB, NEW YORK. 
 "Miss Sussex Bussey : 
 
 " I am reminded to-day by a letter from my dear old 
 chum, John Burt, who is combining wealth and headlong 
 adventure somewhere in the wilderness, that I haVe not 
 formally acknowledged to you the pleasure I experienced 
 in meeting with a live representative of the historic 
 Busseys." ("Doesn't that breathe the spirit of the old 
 regime ?" asked Aunt Sussex, with a fine glow on her face.) 
 "I assure you I recall my little experience at your 
 spacious mansion with unfailing delight, and I sincerely 
 trust that at some time I may be permitted to renew and 
 continue the acquaintanceship so auspiciously begun 
 under your rooftree. Will you kindly convey to Miss 
 Sylvia the earnest expression of my warmest devotion. 
 Kindly transmit to me any indication on Miss Sylvia's 
 part that I can be of service to her here in the me- 
 tropolis. TONY BRAHM." 
 
 Sylvia clapped her hands. "Dear old brute," she 
 cried; "the only paragon of a man I ever met who 
 didn't understand that my sister is of the first impor- 
 tance. He doesn't even mention her." 
 
 But looking quickly at her sister, and not seeing any 
 indication of a similar satisfaction in her face, she felt 
 a little ashamed of her own exultation and rushed at 
 her headlong. 
 
 "Dear, dear," she cried, "do brighten up. You 
 ought to rejoice that Heaven is sending us help from all 
 quarters." 
 
 Kate threw her head back. "Listen," she said. 
 
 The heavy thud of Mr. Journingham's feet came to 
 them like a recurrent stroke. 
 
 "It sounds like the beat of doom," said Kate.
 
 240 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 "That step marches invincibly over hearts and 
 graves." 
 
 " Oh, no," said Sylvia; "there is a staunch old man in 
 the way and I thank God for him. He at least has come 
 to your assistance." 
 
 Kate listened again, and the sound seemed to stimulate 
 her resolution. She tossed her head and said : 
 
 "I don't think I need any assistance. I have not 
 forgotten the name I bear, and I have work to do." 
 
 "Where are you going?" asked Sylvia. 
 
 "I am going down to face my doom and to pull 
 those stumps in the South Grove." 
 
 "Oh, that isn't a woman's work, dear. Let the Onus 
 Probaridi pull them." 
 
 Then the consultation was broken up by a voice from 
 below calling: 
 
 "Kate, Kate, can I speak to you a moment?" 
 
 And with a prompt obedience that irritated Sylvia, 
 Kate went down to meet Mr. Journingham. He was 
 standing at the far corner of the porch, in corduroy 
 knickerbockers, playing with a handsome silver-mounted 
 English fowling-piece, which he tossed about as if to 
 exhibit his familiarity with it. 
 
 "Kate, my dear," he said, "your lawyer is a most 
 extraordinary person really a most impracticable old 
 man hasn't the faintest notion, don't you know, of the 
 noblesse oblige that obtains among ladies and gentle- 
 men in their unwritten code reminds me, I don't mind 
 telling you, of a backwoods Shylock with his bond." 
 
 This easy assumption of intellectual and social 
 superiority, set in a large and rather benignant ah* of 
 patronage, came to Kate at a malapropos moment. 
 She had found time on her way downstairs to 
 stop at a desk in the hall and dash off a short reply to
 
 A THUNDERSTORM 341 
 
 John Btirt, while the appeal of his letter was warm in 
 her mind: 
 
 "Mr. John Burt: I have to thank you again for your 
 disinterested efforts. You deserve a higher reward than I 
 can give you. Circumstances have made it necessary for 
 me to reconsider all my plans and to relieve you from 
 any further solicitude on my part. If you will communi- 
 cate with my lawyer in regard to such business matters as 
 you think I am interested in he will make further 
 explanations, and my aunt has written to Mr. Brahm 
 conveying information of our movements." 
 
 She called to Pierson that she had a letter to mail 
 when he went to town, and having put her honour into 
 this shape she felt stronger ; but no sooner had she written 
 the letter than she felt that she had aimed a blow of 
 unkindness at the only man who had ever risked every- 
 thing, even his life, in her service, and now to have 
 Mr. Journingham affront the only other remaining 
 friend was not at all likely to assuage her conflicting 
 feelings. 
 
 "I am afraid," she said, "that you do not understand 
 the Judge nor our relations to him." 
 
 "Entirely, entirely, my dear; the relations of an 
 attorney and creditor an attorney who has a shrewd 
 eye on his own interests. You see, I appear to some 
 disadvantage, for I am only your everlasting debtor, 
 and rather glory in it, by Jove, yes, I do. And of course 
 I couldn't hope to make the old lawyer see that. I 
 don't think anybody can see it and feel it as we do, 
 my dear." 
 
 Kate involuntarily stepped away from him a few 
 inches as if something foreboding and inscrutable had
 
 242 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 pushed her. His easy assumption of the irremediable 
 in their relationship had a chill in it all the more irri- 
 tating by reason of the false warmth that it disported. 
 He might have seen, had he been gifted with the vision, 
 the little danger signals beginning to glitter in her clear 
 eye and tinge the white hauteur of her face. But he 
 did not see. His vital self-importance was stone blind 
 and galloped apace with added gustiness. 
 
 "The man is too amusing," he said, "to be offensive. 
 Really, now I think of it, I should have been enter- 
 tained instead of being annoyed, and I regret, for your 
 sake, that I was compelled to teach him a passing lesson 
 in what I may call a gentleman's amour propre." 
 
 "You are making a mistake, Mr. Journingham," said 
 Kate, not quite clear in her mind whether the mistake 
 related to the Judge or to herself. 
 
 "Not at all, not at all," replied Mr. Journingham, 
 catching hold of her arm familiarly and giving a con- 
 fidential air to his amusement. "Why, the man asked 
 me to let him see the letter you wrote me. Upon my 
 honour, he did ! You may not believe it, but it's a fact." 
 
 "And why did you not show it to him ? I should have 
 done so before I sent it," said Kate. "He could have 
 told me if there was anything in it I should be ashamed 
 of." 
 
 "Charming!" exclaimed Mr. Journingham, beginning 
 to notice the awakening spirit in her face and mien, 
 without understanding it. "Charming, my dear; but 
 believe me, you do not understand these men of the 
 world as I do, and I regret to say that I was compelled to 
 treat him with some severity; and I feel sure that he 
 will not again undertake in my presence to interfere in 
 the arrangements that you have already made. In 
 such matters, my dear, it will be safe to leave the treat-
 
 A THUNDERSTORM 243 
 
 ment in the hands of your husband. I trust that I may 
 use that word provisionally, may I not?" 
 
 Kate stood close under the Virginia creeper near one 
 of the fluted columns and was tenderly canopied in her 
 almost statuesque whiteness of face and dress. She 
 looked at him so straightforwardly and inflexibly that 
 he left her side with a half laugh and began walking 
 up and down. 
 
 "There, there," he said, "let us cut the subject. It 
 is disagreeable to both of us." 
 
 "As you have deprived me of the benefit of counsel," 
 replied Kate, with something of the whiteness of her 
 aspect getting into her voice, "I shall have to be my 
 own lawyer. Perhaps it would have been better had 
 you left the matter in his hands." 
 
 "Tut, tut, my dear," said Mr. Journingham, still 
 walking and evidently trying to mask a slight irritation 
 by his ready fund of gusto. "Tut, tut, my dear; I have 
 sometimes felt that my age has been a disadvantage in 
 my relations with you, but believe me, in such a matter 
 as this it is a great advantage. I have flattered myself 
 that when a woman places her future happiness in a 
 man's hands " 
 
 "Pardon me," said Kate; "she never does if she is a 
 true woman until she is satisfied that the hands are 
 strong and disinterested enough to bear the burden." 
 
 Even as she said it she recognized the recurrence of 
 that word "disinterested," and wondered at it. 
 
 "True enough, my dear," replied Mr. Journingham; 
 "and so much more am I responsible when you have 
 confided to me the burden after long deliberation." 
 
 There was something maddening in the man's obtuse- 
 ness. Kate bit her lip with hopeless irritation and then 
 flared up.
 
 244 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 "You are giving me too much credit," she said. "I 
 never was deliberate, and I never was less so than when 
 I wrote you that letter. I warn you that I have not 
 outgrown the impulsive spirit that made me write it 
 and am quite capable of repudiating it." 
 
 " Good Heavens, Kate ! " exclaimed Mr. Journingham, 
 coming to a full halt and exhibiting for the first time 
 something like a collapse of self-satisfaction. "I must 
 have offended you in some way. Good God, my girl ! 
 I ask your pardon. Let us drop the subject." 
 
 Kate now felt that she was being driven to the 
 point of open rupture with this man. The feeling was 
 accompanied by something of maiden desperation, 
 and she knew that it only needed a little courage on 
 her part to carry this conversation beyond any hope 
 of readjustment. She was nervous but resentful as 
 she said: 
 
 "I prefer to continue the subject, if you please. I 
 should at least like to prove to you that, unlike my 
 lawyer, I cannot be frightened from it." 
 
 "Frightened!" he repeated, with something like 
 genuine perplexity fretting his astonishment. "I think 
 there is some misunderstanding. " 
 
 "Perhaps," she said, with biting calmness, "an 
 understanding would be more fatal. I am trying to 
 arrive at one. " 
 
 " You are angry with me. " 
 
 " Your acumen is slow but sure. " 
 
 "What have I done? Heavens, my girl, are you 
 offended because I traversed half the earth at your beck 
 and threw myself at your feet? Come, come, I swear 
 to you that I do not know what I have done. " 
 
 " I beg that you will not swear to your own dullness, " 
 she said. "If you will consider me as deprived of
 
 A THUNDERSTORM 245 
 
 counsel and compelled to assume my own defense, I will 
 tell you." 
 
 " Heaven forbid that I should put you on the defensive. 
 Let me get you a chair. There is really no occasion for 
 this. " 
 
 "Was there anything in my letter that indicated that 
 I had conceived a sudden attachment for you, Mr. 
 Journingham ? " 
 
 "Miss Bussey, I would not dishonour you by the sus- 
 picion that you could consent to marry a man from any 
 baser motive than one of attachment. I have not 
 examined into your motives. I flatter myself I am 
 above it. It is enough for me that you consented, and 
 I obeyed your summons. Now let us have done with 
 this, I beg of you. " 
 
 "You never asked me why I consented to marry you, 
 and I am to believe that you never asked yourself. " 
 
 "I repeat that it is enough that you consented, and I 
 will stake my life that you will keep your word. " 
 
 If this bravado of gallantry was meant to exhibit his 
 faith in the woman, it miscarried, for it seemed to Kate 
 to exhibit only his faith in himself. 
 
 "I have been taught that a Bussey always keeps her 
 word," she said; "but they failed to teach me that a 
 man may make it impossible. " 
 
 This overshot the mark a little. A slightly puzzled 
 look came into his eyes. He shrugged his shoulders 
 as if shaking off the idea. 
 
 " Miss Bussey, " he said, " I am at a loss to understand 
 you, and you must forgive me if T do not take your 
 present mood seriously. I am a practical man and have 
 been taught to accept a lady's word as final, and not to 
 question it." 
 
 "You will have no room to question it when the final
 
 24 6 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 word is spoken, " she said with a calm recklessness that 
 she thought of afterward with amazement. 
 
 He stared at her with an honest perplexity. She 
 seemed at the moment to be receding from him and to 
 grow more beautifully regnant as some kind of incom- 
 prehensible maze came between them. His animal 
 impulse was to catch hold of her, as if to restore by a 
 clutch the former conditions, and he made a move toward 
 her, but she held Up her hand as a warning spirit might 
 have done; his ring glittered on it with an earthly sig- 
 nificance as she did so, and he drew himself up. 
 
 "Mr. Journingham, " she said, "I regret very much 
 your inability to understand me because it is so humili- 
 ating to be compelled to instruct you. " 
 
 Never before had she allowed her contempt for him 
 to trickle into her good manners so icily. He felt it 
 without understanding it, and that inability to under- 
 stand was the goad that stung her on. 
 
 "The letter I wrote you," she said; "I am afraid you 
 have mistaken its meaning." 
 
 "Good God !" he ejaculated. " What are you saying ?" 
 
 " Let me try and explain myself. I do not mean that 
 the consent it contained could be misunderstood or that 
 I will not stand to it. But it did not imply that in 
 relinquishing myself I was relinquishing my birthright, 
 my friends, my memories and my inheritance." 
 
 "Heaven forbid!" he exclaimed with considerable 
 relief, and taking a step toward her. "I have come to 
 place your birthright in your possession. In accepting 
 your hand it was to lead you into the royal domain 
 where you belong where the world will be at your feet. " 
 
 She held up her hand again. "I am afraid, " she said, 
 "that our worlds are separated by an impassable gulf 
 that nothing I can ever do will bridge. "
 
 A THUNDERSTORM 247 
 
 "By Heavens! you utterly mistake me, my dear. I 
 swear to you that you are doing me a great injustice. 
 You have but to express a wish and it shall be gratified. 
 There never lived a lover so anxious to place the object 
 of his idolatry in the sphere where she belongs. " 
 
 "My experience of lovers is pitiably small," said 
 Kate, "but it never occurred to me that a lover's first 
 act would be to deprive me of my only counselor and 
 take advantage of a written promise to make me feel 
 my helplessness, even to the point of suspecting that my 
 promise was something more than an error and may 
 have been a misfortune. " 
 
 The only two animating impulses of action in Mr. 
 Journingham, as he listened to this arraignment, were 
 almost antagonistic to each other, and as they could not 
 impel him conjointly, they operated successively. One 
 was a passion made almost servile by the presence of its 
 object, enhanced and dignified by a new authority; the 
 other was a constitutional habit of masterful egotism 
 and self-willed importance. To exhibit them both as 
 he did, like a human automaton, and never suspect that 
 the psychic creature in front of him would take their 
 measure with a shrinking accuracy, only added fuel to 
 the fires which were already gleaming in Kate's 
 eyes. With the first impulse he was majestically 
 obeisant. 
 
 "Idle fears, my dear; dismiss them, I beg of you. 
 You have strangely misconceived the depth of my affec- 
 tion. When you know me better you will laugh at these 
 fears, for I have no other object in life than your happi- 
 ness. Yes, by Jove ! those fellows in London would 
 laugh if they could see me actually kneeling at your feet. 
 But they'd forgive me if they saw you as you look now. 
 By Heavens ! Kate, you look like a queen to-day, and
 
 24 8 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 your engagement ring seems to borrow a new fire from 
 your eyes." 
 
 "I wish, Mr. Journingham, that you would try and be 
 serious with me for a moment. You make me suspect 
 that you do not think me worth it." 
 
 "Now, by all the gods! you are worth an empire, 
 and I feel ashamed of myself for not being an 
 emperor." 
 
 " Then, " she said softly, but as if her teeth were closed, 
 "I can sympathize in your shame, especially as you have 
 undertaken to rule an empire. " 
 
 This acrid little dart having penetrated the only 
 vulnerable part of his selfhood his masculine vanity 
 his other impulse came to his rescue, and he began to 
 lord it a little in self-defense. He threw out his shirt- 
 front and strode about. 
 
 "You will pardon me, Miss Bussey, " he said, "if I 
 tell you that the empire which has fallen to my lot 
 entails such vast responsibilities that you cannot under- 
 stand that I should be sacrificing my self-respect as a 
 man of the world were I to allow my infatuation for you 
 to blind me to my duties. It is customary in England, 
 when a lady accepts a husband, to accept also his more 
 practical views of men and affairs. I flatter myself, 
 Miss Bussey, that as your husband I shall not prove 
 inadequate as a man who knows the world and under- 
 stands his rights." 
 
 Kate began to flutter a little as a bird might that feels 
 the wires of its cage enclosing it for the first time. The 
 man's rights as a husband threatened to extinguish all 
 other rights, and in the first collision of rights mere 
 sensibility shrank a little at mere emphasis, which, 
 taking a full breath, went on: 
 
 "My first duty is to protect you from your enemies. "
 
 A THUNDERSTORM 249 
 
 "My enemies?" she repeated, inquiringly. 
 
 ''Yes, I shall see that the young scapegrace who has 
 persecuted you with his attentions is removed from our 
 path. I cannot very well consult with his father on 
 that matter." 
 
 " Did you threaten his father with his removal?" 
 
 "I am not in the habit of threatening," replied Mr. 
 Journingham, with a little additional inflation. "I 
 informed him of my intentions, and I may as well tell 
 you that I shall also seriously object to your retention 
 on the place of that other young man, who, I am 
 informed, is similarly disposed to overstep his duties as 
 an employee." 
 
 "Then," said Kate, with her head up and her eyes 
 flashing at last with perilous indignation, " it is my duty 
 to inform you that if any one leaves this place it will be 
 because I desire it and not you, for, despite the fellows 
 in London, I am still mistress of it. " 
 
 "Ah, I did not think it had gone as far as that. Miss 
 Bussey, it is my desire to drop the subject here. There 
 is Pierson with the horses. When you have taken a 
 canter in this fresh air, I feel assured that your spirits 
 will have recovered their natural tone. Permit me. " 
 
 Pierson came up to the balustrade and held out his 
 hand. Kate exclaimed: 
 
 " O, yes the letter. I am going up to get my riding 
 habit, and I will fetch it. " 
 
 She flew up the stairs with unwonted celerity, and 
 going to her little desk, her eyes fell again upon John 
 Hurt's letter and picture and what seemed to her now 
 to be her cruel answer. A new impulse seized her. It 
 was heightened by the tones of Mr. Journingham's 
 authoritative voice that came up to her. She strode 
 about for a moment with her hands pressed upon her
 
 250 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 temples. Then dropping down at her 'desk, she seized 
 a pen and with the same impulse dashed off the following 
 lines : 
 
 "Dear Old Drudge: I have followed your instruc- 
 tions. The fires are burning on the hay field and it 
 looks from my window like a vast altar lit by your torch. 
 I am trying to be mistress of the Grange, and I com- 
 mand you to come immediately to my assistance and 
 finish your work. " 
 
 Having made this revelation of herself, she looked at 
 it with shrinking shame and tried again to allay her 
 conflicting emotions by striding about, but succeeded 
 only in knocking down several articles of ornament. 
 Then, as if discouraged at her own state of mind and 
 chiefly anxious to grasp at any relief, she exclaimed: 
 
 "Heavens! I believe I shall go insane. The ride will 
 do me good. Anything out of this maze. " And down 
 she went to the veranda, and a few minutes later they 
 cantered away.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 "Y'R COULDN'T BE SQUAR' " 
 
 WHATEVER it was the Judge said to his son when he 
 returned from the interview with Mr. Journingham at 
 the Grange, it had an entirely unlooked-for effect upon 
 that young man's mind. Instead of hastening his 
 departure as was intended, it filled him with an unreason- 
 able suspicion that his father, Mr. Journingham and the 
 Busseys were acting in concert to get him out of the way, 
 and having consulted his mother, it was not difficult 
 to make her agree with him. The more he thought it 
 over, the more his own importance seemed to loom up. 
 They were all leagued against him .and his natural rights, 
 and there must be something dangerous in a man who 
 necessitated such a combination. This Englishman was 
 going to use the law against him and had the effrontery 
 to tell the Judge so, and the boy's father, instead of 
 resenting it, had weakly fallen into the trap and tried to 
 pack his boy off where he would not be in the way.' 
 Once this view of the matter presented itself, everything 
 corroborated it, and the result was a deep sullen resent- 
 ment. His mother advised him to "light out sudden." 
 He could go down to the Mussel Shoals in Tennessee 
 where her folks were and wait till it blew over, and tell- 
 ing her that he would send a nigger for his duds, he set 
 out without saying good-by to his father, and rode 
 away westward with no other definite purpose than to 
 dodge the immediate and baffle his rival. 
 
 251
 
 252 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 It so happened that he had not gone a mile westward 
 when he met the Englishman and Miss Kate Bussey on 
 the road, out for a gallop, and now returning. It was 
 at a place where the road, widening through a dense 
 wood that almost shut it in from the light, took a sudden 
 turn, and he came upon them so unexpectedly that there 
 was time but for one distinct consciousness. He was 
 himself going away hunted, and the Englishman was 
 triumphantly riding back with the mistress of the 
 Grange. Without knowing exactly what he did, and 
 impelled only by one of those sudden impulses that are 
 more animal than sentient, he turned his horse squarely 
 across Mr. Journingham's path and glared at him. The 
 action was so sudden and unexpected that the English- 
 man's first impression was that he had been stopped by 
 one of the outlaws of the forest ; but as Miss Bussey at 
 the same moment recognized the young man and uttered 
 a cry of alarm coupled with his name, Mr. Journingham 
 lifted a heavy riding-whip and struck him squarely in 
 the face with it, shouting at the same time, " Get out of 
 my way, you young miscreant. " The blow was a 
 sharp and powerful one, and as it was delivered his horse 
 shied a little and backed away. Under the smart, 
 Folingsby slipped like an Indian from his seat, and 
 covering the greater part of his body behind his horse, 
 put his hand on his hip pocket. In another moment the 
 Englishman, who did not understand the significance 
 of the action, would have received a bullet in his body; 
 but before the weapon could be released there broke 
 forth a shrill sound something between an Indian yell 
 and a woman's cry of terror and a white form came 
 suddenly out of the brush by the roadside, waving its 
 arms. Folingsby's horse reared, and, if his arm had not 
 caught the bridle, would have plunged down the road.
 
 "Y'R COULDN'T BE SQUAR' ' 253 
 
 For a moment the young man was a little less discon- 
 certed than the animals. He did not at first recognize 
 the bogy in white, and the moment of hesitation saved 
 the incident from becoming a tragedy. Kate's horse 
 gave a spring and Mr. Journingham's plunged after her, 
 so that by the time the figure in white had reached the 
 middle of the road the two of them were galloping away 
 from the scene at a somewhat disordered gait. 
 
 Folingsby, tugging at his horse and trying to pacify 
 it, looked at the girl with astonishment and slow recog- 
 nition. She wore a white dress, trim boots, a little 
 straw hat with a ribbon on it, and some kind of coarse 
 but effective lace collar on her back and shoulders. 
 Certainly in this unusual garb she looked surprisingly 
 handsome. Her black hair was gathered up on her 
 head and bulged out in a wavy frame for her brown face. 
 She had transformed herself somehow from a voluptuous 
 savage to a buxom mountain belle. 
 
 "You saved his life, d n him didn't you ? What'd 
 
 you do it for?" 
 
 "Gimjme the gun and I'll tell y'r," she answered, 
 evidently enjoying his surprise at her appearance. 
 
 "Oh, no; not this time, Suke. I'm traveling." 
 
 "All right, Buckey," she said; "if you're travelin' 
 you'll want it. So am I good luck to you." 
 
 And she swung round with a splendid animal grace 
 and started off down the road. He called to her: 
 
 "Hold on, Suke. Where be you goin'?" 
 
 "Goin' to see my man," she replied. "I got a new 
 one. You're too risky." 
 
 He jumped on his horse and came up to her. 
 
 "Who dressed you up in store clothes?" he asked. 
 "Say, you're awful dead ripe in that frock." 
 
 "He did," she replied, tossing her head.
 
 254 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 "Then I'll keep the gun for him." 
 
 "You'll hev to get two guns. There's lots of 'em. I 
 ain't axing no favours now." 
 
 "Are you clean shut o' me?" he asked somewhat 
 softly. 
 
 "I guess I kin look for a squar man, like any other 
 girl, can't I? Lem me be I'm too squar' for you." 
 
 He leaned over to her as she walked along the grass- 
 covered path and said with something like a soft 
 appeal : 
 
 "You ain't goin' to shake me dead, Suke, like this, 
 arey'r?" 
 
 She knew very well that her clumsy coquetry had 
 ignited his jealousy. Whatever womanly tact was 
 instinctive in her was quite equal to his impulses, and 
 so the old game that is played in salons and theatres 
 disported itself there by the roadside in ribbons and 
 store clothes, and the senses of the masculine animal 
 acknowledged without knowing it the decorative 
 superiority of a woman. 
 
 "What 'd ye want to shoot at the Englishman fer?" 
 she asked, suddenly coming to a halt. 
 
 "He's bunting me. I've got to light out. D n 
 
 him ! He and my old man stand in agin me. I ain't 
 got a friend left, now you're sackin' me." 
 
 "What's he huntin' y'r fur?" 
 
 "Thinks I want to marry the Bussey woman. Lord, 
 Suke, she ain't a patch to you when you're lady dressed 
 if a man could marry what he likes." 
 
 " She marry him ? Who said it ? " 
 
 "She said it herself in a letter." 
 
 " How'd y'r know it ? " she asked suddenly. 
 
 "Oh, she told me herself," he replied evasively. 
 
 "That's a lie." said Suke. "She ain't sweet on him."
 
 "Y'R COULDN'T BE SQUAR' ' 255 
 
 "Ain't she? How do you know." 
 
 "It's t'other one." 
 
 "Who's t'other?" 
 
 "Gimme the gun and I'll tell you. You're too 
 anxious with it." 
 
 He slipped down from his horse and stood beside her. 
 
 "I got to have it, Suke," he said. "You don't care 
 an awful deal for me, I know, but you wouldn't see me 
 struck like that and nothin' in my pocket." 
 
 There was a red welt on his cheek and a tiny stain of 
 blood. She pulled the handkerchief from his breast 
 pocket and wiped his face with it. 
 
 "I ain't that unhuman to a dog," she said. 
 
 "Well, I'm treated worse nor a dog, and it's all o' 
 standin' by you. I s'pose they'll hunt me for this 
 and I could 'a' dropped him if I had not heard your 
 voice." 
 
 This is another old game played ever since male and 
 female created He them. Man offsets his weakness of 
 sense by woman's weakness of pity. 
 
 "They'll be on y'r heels with horses," she said. 
 "Go on up to the Shelf. Gimme the gun and don't 
 stand." 
 
 "Are you comin' with me?" 
 
 "You go ahead. There's nobody huntin' me. Go 
 inter the brush," she said, looking down the road with 
 some apprehension. 
 
 "Come on up the hill," he replied; "we can see the 
 road for a mile." 
 
 And then they walked on together, he holding the 
 horse's bridle. The moment they were started he 
 asked: 
 
 "Who's t'other one?" 
 
 "Him what went off. What do y'r care?"
 
 256 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 "The overseer? Why, she's goin' to marry the 
 Englishman." 
 
 "Is she? Well, she ain't plum honey on him it's 
 t'other one." 
 
 Folingsby looked at her with a sudden interest. 
 
 "Where'd you get that foolishness?" he asked. 
 "T'other one sneaked she fired him." 
 
 Suke looked knowing, gave her head a toss, and they 
 proceeded silently a moment, as if doubt on one side and 
 tacit assurance on the other had some difficulty in 
 adjusting themselves. Presently he said: 
 
 "You don't know anything about it, Suke." 
 
 "I calkilate I know what I see'd," she said with the 
 same air of possessing some kind of special information. 
 
 "What'd you see?" 
 
 "I see'd her with t'other she follered him; and I 
 see'd her with this one, and he follered her. I come all 
 the way down in the brush to watch 'em. She shies 
 at this one." 
 
 "T'other one was a man, leastways," said Folingsby 
 thoughtfully. "I wouldn't blame her. Are you dead 
 sure?" 
 
 "Dead sure in meself," she replied. "But I ain't 
 makin' anybody else sure. He's writin' letters to 
 her." 
 
 "How d'ye know it?" he asked with what seemed to 
 Suke considerable more interest than the subject seemed 
 to warrant. 
 
 "'Taint nothin' to you, is it?" 
 
 "If this one had struck you in the face with a whip, 
 you'd like to see t'other one throw him down, wouldn't 
 y'r it's just natur', I calkilate." 
 
 "You ain't no more human nor me, I guess. I 
 reckoned that whip struck me in the face that's why
 
 "Y'R COULDN'T BE SQUAR' ' 357 
 
 I yelled so. She didn't yell when you had your hand 
 on your gun." 
 
 Folingsby regarded her with some surprise. "Suke," 
 he said, "you are peert, ain't y'r? What a goldarned 
 fool I've been." 
 
 "Well, I ain't such an ornery critter when I'm 
 fixed up." 
 
 "I never said different. You can tassel out with the 
 best in the land. Where was you goin' so slick?" 
 
 "To see my man." 
 
 "And who's the buck, Honey?" 
 
 "Your old man." 
 
 "What for?" 
 
 " To tell him if we was to go shut. " 
 
 "How much did he offer you?" 
 
 "Wouldn't y'r like to know?" 
 
 "You'll take it, I guess." 
 
 "Well, you're off, ain't y'r?" 
 
 He considered a moment. "If you took it, you 
 might go with me. We could sneak down to the Mussel 
 Shoals and have lots o' sport." 
 
 She turned on him, and not having the adequate 
 answer in words, she struck him a stout blow on the 
 breast with her fist. Her emotions often used the 
 vocabulary of action. 
 
 He tried to laugh indifferently. 
 
 "Your store clothes make you proud," he said. 
 
 "You're a mean cuss, Fol," she exclaimed, "and I'm 
 a squar' girl. Goddlemighty, I ought to spit in your face, 
 but I can't do it. Go on up the road and lemme 
 be." 
 
 He made as if about to get upon his horse. "Honest 
 Injun, that furriner '11 swear out a warrant for me and 
 there'll be a deputy comin' up. I'll go down and meet
 
 258 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 him. There ain't no pity in your buzzum, Suke no 
 more'n a rock." 
 
 "Well, I did hev some." 
 
 "What'd you do with it?" 
 
 "Left it with y'r old man, I reckon." 
 
 "Tell me what you said to him." 
 
 "I 'lowed if you wanted to be shut o' me I c'd stan' 
 it without dickerin'. There was them as was better 'n 
 you. He had a still cry, an' it upset me." 
 
 "Can't see what he wanted to snivel for. It was 
 business." 
 
 "No, you ain't good at seein'. Reckon it twisted 
 him some to see a moonshiner's gal was squarer nor his 
 own flesh and blood." 
 
 "Y'r talk as if you'd got religion, Suke. I ain't such 
 a pizen sinner, nuther. What's the old man's '11 come 
 to me sometime. What y'r want to stand me off like 
 this fer?" 
 
 The sequence of thought in this speech was apparently 
 to Suke's mind without a flaw. 
 
 "I never 'lowed yer was such a pizen sinner to rob 
 y'r old man to buy me shut, an' ef yer was, a gal don't 
 hev .to hev religion to git out the way of a rattler, does 
 she?" 
 
 "Was you thinkin' o' getting out my way, Suke?" 
 
 "Well, I ain't goin' to the Mussel Shoals to fool the 
 sheriff's men as I know on." 
 
 "I call it doggoned mean, coz I asked you to go." 
 
 In this conversation the girl by some instinctive 
 finesse succeeded in awakening in him a new sense of her 
 advantages, if not of her superiorities. Her air of indif- 
 ference and independence was nothing more, perhaps, 
 than the small means coquetry has at hand in such a 
 nature. But it accomplished its purpose. Her com-
 
 "Y'R COULDN'T BE SQUAR' ' 259 
 
 panion began to suspect that he had not half appre- 
 ciated Suke's charms, and it nettled him to think he 
 might have lost his hold upon her. 
 
 "It was pesky mean to allow a gal had to run away 
 because you had." 
 
 "Oh, well, if you feel that way about it," said 
 Folingsby, "enough said. There's a good crop o' girls 
 at the Shoals," and he turned to mount his horse. 
 
 "Yer'll be tuk before you're through the Gap," she 
 said. "Deputy Rufe Stark'll come straight to the 
 Shelf. He ain't out of Pennsylvany, says I. Fetch 
 him back he was pizen bad to some folks," and she 
 swung round coquettishly, as if it were a matter of 
 indifference to her whether he hanged or went to jail 
 for life. "You'd better skedaddle while the coast's 
 clar," she said. 
 
 "If I'm to be took," he growled, "what's the use of 
 wasting breath. Mebbe I'll wait here. What's the 
 odds, anyway, when a man's shook?" 
 
 This petty bravado received another blow. He had 
 sprung upon his horse and turned him round in the 
 road, so the girl, not being able to reach him with her 
 hand, used her tongue. 
 
 "Mebbe it would settle y'r old man to hev yer tuk 
 y'r pizen capebl' of it." 
 
 That struck rather deeply. He pulled up his horse 
 and used another tone. 
 
 "You're pizen mean yourself, Suke, to talk that way 
 to me. If I'd listened to my old man instead o' you 
 it'd been different I guess the worst thing about me 
 was hangin' on to you fer two years. But I never 
 thought you'd put your foot on me when I got in a hole, 
 I can swar that." 
 
 "Yer jist fooled with me fer two years. 'Twas a big
 
 2 6o THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 lie to go that fur, an' yer calculatin' to marry the mistress 
 o' the Catalpas. Yer guessed I was a good enough chip- 
 munk for rainy days. Yer fooled y'rself, Fol Heck- 
 shent. I ain't sech a prairie chick when I'm fixed up; 
 and leastways, I'm a woman, anyhow, and there's them 
 that takes their hat off on that account and they're 
 yer betters. I never axed yer to do anything but be 
 squar' an' yer couldn't." 
 
 There was the faintest possible intimation in this, 
 despite her art, that he might be square now that she 
 made it such an ultimatum, and these children of nature 
 have a marvelous apprehension of intimations. 
 
 "And so help me, there never was a time, Suke, when 
 I wouldn't 'a' been squar', as I could if you'd stood 
 to me," he said. 
 
 "If you mean it, gimme the gun and go on up to the 
 Shelf."
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 THE UNEXPECTED 
 
 IT was thus, smarting under a blow and with the virus 
 of revenge in his veins, that Folingsby came to the 
 Shelf an hour or two later accompanied by Suke, who 
 kept at some distance with feelings no doubt of coquetry 
 and pique. They were met at the house by Lunt, who 
 had a gun in his hand and was going after 'coons or any 
 animals that would furnish something in the way of 
 food for the evening's jollification. 
 
 Some kinds of news travel quickly and mysteriously 
 in that region, and the report of the encounter on the 
 road had preceded them. 
 
 "Y'r cut in the face," said Lunt. "Mebbe it was a 
 whip. Wasn't there any rocks in the road?" 
 
 "I don't look fer rocks when I've got my gun. Mebbe 
 you ought to know that and keep your tongue between 
 your teeth." 
 
 "Denk Murphy 'lows the Englishman licked yer like a 
 nigger," replied Lunt. 
 
 This kind of brutal sarcasm seemed to fire the red 
 mark on Folingsby's face, and he writhed under it, but 
 the girl, with a sure knowledge of the vindictive character 
 of these men, and touched, perhaps, with pity for 
 Folingsby, jumped again into the crisis. She started 
 out toward the ledge of rocks, shouting to Folingsby: 
 
 "Come on with me if y'r a squar' man. He's a mean- 
 sperrited liar. Yer don't hev to stand there an' be tuk." 
 
 A moment later she had run out to the rocky ledge, 
 261
 
 262 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 followed by Folingsby, but before Lunt could signal 
 them of danger from the window Deputy Rufe Stark 
 rode in at the front gate with his crooked cane hanging 
 over his arm. 
 
 The old woman, who sat on the hearthstone dipping, 
 stood up and looked about her like the dam of some 
 wild herd. She evidently knew all the dangers of the 
 situation. She picked up Lunt's double-barreled gun 
 that he had stood in the corner and, going to the door, 
 said: 
 
 "Hark to me all of yees. Ginerally speakin', yees 
 hav all been brought up to use y'r guns, but I hev to 
 tell ye thet when it comes to usin' a gun on a Deputy, 
 Baldy Turck's widder stands in with the Deputy. Cos 
 why? Cos the Turcks allers got the worst of it when 
 they fought the law, and him as draws a bead on the 
 Deputy gets my two barrels plum." 
 
 Lunt and Folingsby, who were sitting now on the edge 
 of the Shelf, heard this speech, and Lunt said to his 
 companion : 
 
 "Say, when it comes to the Sheriff, my grudge agin' 
 ye can wait. Yer can streak it down the slope inter the 
 timber and brush, and cross over inter the rocks. I'll 
 stand him off till yer git clean away." 
 
 "Here's some money," said Folingsby; "go and fetch 
 me a cup of the old woman's whisky and get y'r gun. 
 We'll go see if there's any 'coons yet. There'll be a crowd 
 here to-night and the old woman ain't got any meat." 
 
 The result was that Lunt brought him out a teacupful 
 of whisky and took his money, and a moment later the 
 officer came round the corner of the house and laid his 
 hand on Folingsby's shoulder, giving his hat a kind of 
 deferential jerk as if in recognition of the Squire's son. 
 
 "It's no use, Fol," he said, "ye can't fight the whole
 
 THE UNEXPECTED 263 
 
 county. I'd rather you'd skipped out and saved me 
 from this but now I'm going to take ye, and I leave it 
 to you if the easiest way ain't the best. It'll break up 
 your old man, and so help me, I'd rather you'd 'a' give 
 me the slip than to have to do it." 
 
 "Oh, it's an right," said Folingsby. "I ain't got no 
 grudge agin' you, and I'll make it as easy for you as 
 I kin." 
 
 "Give me your word as a squar' man that you'll show 
 up at the Sheriff's house in two hours and I'll hev the 
 Judge there to pull you through without my doin' a 
 thing." 
 
 "Good enough, old man," said Folingsby. "We've 
 got to git some kind o' meat and then I'll report. Is my 
 word good ?" and he held out his hand. 
 
 "I'll take it this time for the sake of your father," 
 said the Deputy. 
 
 Very soon after this Lunt and Folingsby, with many 
 warnings from Suke, were tracking down the slope 
 through the timber with no other definite purpose than 
 was supplied by the necessity of finding a supply of meat 
 for the evening's merrymaking. Lunt had filled a flask 
 with whisky and both of them were exhilarated and 
 voluble. They threw themselves in the grass by the 
 river and Lunt could not resist the temptation to jibe 
 his companion. 
 
 "That's a pretty bad welt yer got on y'r chops. Looks 
 as if it might 'a' bin a bull-whip. Ye'll hev to git the 
 gals to paint it if y're goin' to the weddin'." 
 
 "I calculate I don't go to no weddin' but my own. 
 Gimme your gun," said Folingsby, emptying the con- 
 tents of the flask into his mouth. 
 
 "If there's any mischief in yer I guess I don't want 
 my gun mixed up in it. Ye better git y'r own. So
 
 2 6 4 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 long. I'll see yer at the party. I'd like to 
 know if the gal at the Grange will allow a man to 
 court her who she's seen licked like a nigger on the 
 highway." 
 
 The red mark on Folingsby's cheek burned fiery as he 
 jumped up. 
 
 "Oh, he didn't know me as well as you do and the more 
 fool you for usin' y'r tongue on me." And with that he 
 started down the bank of the stream in a headlong and 
 wayward manner as if the impulses that moved him were 
 not in accord, and in another moment he was lost to 
 Lunt's view in the brush along the river. Plunging 
 through the meadow, he came out upon the Bussey 
 grounds and went pantingly up the rise toward the house, 
 coming out against the southern corner of the porch, 
 and the first thing that struck his eye was Mr. Journing- 
 ham's handsome gun leaning there against the rail. 
 It was a weapon that wottld have caught his attention 
 at any time, but just now it seemed like a providential 
 interposition. Kate, who stood in the doorway watch- 
 ing his approach, saw that his gaze was riveted on the 
 weapon, and with some kind of apprehension that she 
 did not understand, she walked to the end of the porch, 
 picked up the gun in an easy manner, as though she had 
 not seen Folingsby, and disappeared in the house with 
 it. She was nervous and bewildered. A vague danger 
 seemed to cross her mind like a film. She ran into the 
 kitchen with the gun and looked out the north window 
 with an indefinite purpose of warning Mr. Journingham 
 away if he should be approaching at that time, and then, 
 confused and resentful, she began calling for her sister. 
 The moment Sylvia appeared she caught her round 
 the waist, and pulling her to the door said: 
 
 "Come away; come away. I think Folingsby is on
 
 THE UNEXPECTED 265 
 
 the warpath. The Englishman whipped him on the 
 road." 
 
 Sylvia's apprehensions of danger were not so acute as 
 Kate's. She was inclined to regard such an event half 
 humorously. 
 
 " Good ! " she cried. " Now, if there was only some- 
 body to whip the Englishman, we might rest content 
 while they fought it out among themselves," and she 
 started impulsively down the steps, followed by Kate, 
 only to meet Mr. Journingham, who was just now return- 
 ing from his ride with Kate. 
 
 "I regret exceedingly, my dear Kate," he said, "that 
 I suffered you to come back alone." 
 
 Something like an apology sprang to her lips. "It 
 was a very disgraceful collision, sir," she said, "and I 
 deplore it for your sake." 
 
 But he was inclined to make light of it. "One of the 
 ordinary instances of an unsettled country," he said. 
 " I assure you I was not unprepared for such barbarism 
 when I came to America; but such savagery will 
 disappear as the refinements of English life 
 penetrate this country. Believe me, it will be 
 my highest duty to protect you from the recurrence 
 of such scenes." 
 
 He could not even speak of this incident without 
 thrusting before her again his supreme control of her 
 destiny, and she winced under it with a confused resent- 
 ment. 
 
 "Come away, Sylvia," she said. "I shall go mad 
 unless I have some one to talk to who understands me," 
 and with that she stepped down into the road, not 
 heeding where she was going, and entered the wood, 
 closely followed by her sister; and so, waywardly gliding 
 through the trees, now glowing with the last rays of
 
 266 THE CONQUERING OP KATE 
 
 sunset, they came out at the stone fence enclosing the 
 grass-field where the stumps were burning. 
 
 They leaned upon the stone enclosure and gazed at 
 the black mounds from which spirals of lazy smoke rose 
 and drifted over the acres. Here and there a flickering 
 red glow told of the smouldering fires, and as the 
 shadows deepened the dull glare seemed to brighten and 
 multiply, so that presently there were receding heaps 
 of rubbish throwing back innumerable hints of fire and 
 all enswathed in low-lying scarfs of smoke, tinged here 
 and there with a bit of scarlet. 
 
 In almost any other mental condition the weird 
 beauty of the scene would have appealed to her native 
 sense of the wildly picturesque. But just now the field 
 looked like a vast Gehenna. It was burning in obedience 
 to her instructions, and her instructions after all were 
 foolishly obedient to the man who had abandoned the 
 place. Why had she stopped to carry out his suggestion 
 so carefully? Of what avail was it all? She leaned 
 there upon the fence, feeling very desolate, until it was 
 quite dark. A deep inscrutable melancholy of fore- 
 boding seized upon her. The echo of Mr. Journingham's 
 words was like a dire invincible fate that was enclosing 
 her, and something in her fought against it with an 
 irrational vindictiveness. 
 
 Sylvia, who was regarding her with tender and 
 sympathetic interest, caught hold of her sister's arm, 
 saying : 
 
 "Did you quarrel with him?" 
 
 "Heaven help me, I tried to !" 
 
 "And failed?" 
 
 " Utterly. He had his own way. Oh, Syl, there is no 
 use fighting against one's destiny when it is predeter- 
 mined. I must marry that man. It is preordained.
 
 THE UNEXPECTED 267 
 
 You don't know him. He is a mere instrument in the 
 hands of Fate." 
 
 Sylvia flared up immediately. " Do you know, dear, 
 that if that man did not give my contempt so much to 
 do I'd have some left for you. One hates to have a 
 mouse for a sister." 
 
 "Oh, you do not understand. He has my word for it. 
 He simply expects me to keep my promise. It is hard 
 to be a liar and to sneak out of an obligation. Even 
 you could not do that. No, no ; it is all settled. I can't 
 help myself. There is nothing left for me to do. You 
 must see that." 
 
 " I don't see it at all. You might scratch his eyes 
 out. But as you can't relieve yourself that way, why 
 not act like a frank, true woman, and tell him confiden- 
 tially that you were mistaken in him that now you have 
 come to know him better you find to your annoyance 
 that he's an overweening bag of wind a consummate 
 old shallow-minded braggart, and you couldn't live in 
 the same house with him and retain your self-respect. 
 It's all so easy, dear, to one who is only candid and out- 
 spoken and it's only fair to him to tell him the truth. 
 Do you know, dear, your conduct puts me in mind of 
 one of those absurdly horrible plays we saw in 
 Washington in which everybody was miserable 
 because nobody dared to speak five words of common 
 sense !" 
 
 Kate listened to this outburst impassively. At any 
 other time she would have laughed at it. She only 
 shook her head helplessly. 
 
 "The only true bravery is to face the inevitable and 
 make the best of it," she said. "You must not worry 
 yourself any more about it." 
 
 Just then approaching footsteps caused them both to
 
 2 68 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 start and look around, and presently a man was indis- 
 tinctly visible some twenty feet away. 
 
 "Who is it?" demanded Sylvia. 
 
 Pierson's voice answered. "I've got a letter," he 
 said. "I was kept in the village waiting to get the 
 horse shod just got back." 
 
 Kate took the letter. "Go back,'" she said. "We 
 will return to the house presently." 
 
 "Who is it from?" asked Sylvia eagerly. 
 
 Kate tried to read the superscription and failed. 
 There was a little flame in one of the brush-heaps near 
 by, fanned into a tiny torch by the breeze. Sylvia 
 pulled her sister toward it, throwing the shawl that she 
 had been carrying on the fence. 
 
 "Maybe," she said, "it's from Mr. Brahm." 
 
 They both leaned over, one of them holding the letter 
 so that the flicker of light fell upon it. 
 
 "No," said Kate, "it's only from Mr. John Burt," 
 and was about to thrust it into the pocket of her dress. 
 
 Sylvia caught her hand. "Read it to me," she said. 
 " You can at least be frank with me. Come, I dare you, 
 sister dear." 
 
 They were close enough together to see each other's 
 faces in the dusk, and for one instant Kate felt as well 
 as saw the appeal that was made to her. Then she 
 gave the letter to her sister, and Sylvia, dropping with 
 her knees upon a flat stone, tore it open with girlish 
 impatience, and holding it sideways to the light, began 
 to read it, while Kate stood by her with one hand upon 
 her shoulder. 
 
 "NORTH WOODS, N. Y. 
 "Miss KATE BUSSEY. 
 
 "Honoured Mistress: I wrote you a brief letter yester-
 
 THE UNEXPECTED 269 
 
 day, and after it had gone I received intelligence from 
 New York which led me to invest what money of yours 
 I have in an immediate offer. 
 
 "I have been detained here beyond my calculations, 
 and feel that some explanation, if not apology, is due 
 you for not hastening to return in obedience to your 
 commands. Perhaps it is sufficient to say that your in- 
 terests rather than my own have caused my delay. My 
 unselfishness in this matter begins to astonish me. If 
 you care to drop me a few lines of instruction, address 
 them care of Southern Improvement Company, New 
 York, as they keep in touch with me wherever there is 
 wire or mail. I expect to be in New York by the first, 
 but shall not stay there long, as I am impatient to 
 see the Grange once more and have the mistress renew 
 her orders. 
 
 "Your obedient servant, 
 
 "JOHN BURT." 
 
 Sylvia dropped her hand with the letter in it by her 
 side and stared into the little flame wonderingly. A 
 moment later she looked up into her sister's face 
 and the fire threw a glow like a blush over Kate's 
 cheeks. 
 
 "And you never told me," Sylvia said with a tone of 
 reproach. 
 
 "Told you what, Goose?" 
 
 "Dear me!" said Sylvia, again looking into the fire. 
 "I might have known it." 
 
 " Give me the letter, " said Kate. " I don't think you 
 understand it." 
 
 "Yes, I do," exclaimed Sylvia, jumping up. "But 
 what is he doing in the North Woods when the dragon is 
 here in Franklin County ? I wish I could hiss two words
 
 2 70 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 into his ear I feel like Beatrice. I wonder if one can 
 hiss over the telegraph wires." 
 
 "Don't be foolish, dear. What would you say to 
 him?" 
 
 "Say to him ? " cried Sylvia. "I think I'd say to him, 
 ' Come back and kill Claudio.' " 
 
 Her sister uttered a little gasp. "Your impulses belie 
 you," she said. "Don't." 
 
 " Oh, I know, " replied Sylvia, "you are at a great dis r 
 advantage with me you have no desperation, and you 
 never consider that it isn't your heart only that is to be 
 crushed, but mine and Mr. Hurt's. You are a miser- 
 ably selfish creature, dear, and think of nobody in the 
 world but that utterly unworthy Englishman. I wish 
 he were dead." 
 
 Kate turned away and walked toward the fence. But 
 her sister was after her like a tiger. 
 
 "Kate, dear," she said, catching her round the waist, 
 "he said in the letter that he had written you the day 
 before. Did you answer that letter?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Did you tell him?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Are you sure?" 
 
 "Well, if I didn't Aunt Sussex did." 
 
 Sylvia withdrew her arm and walked a little apart by 
 her sister's side. 
 
 "Then you have made up your mind and there's no 
 use talking about it?" 
 
 " Not a bit, dear. But you mustn't forsake me. " 
 
 "Forsake you? I am to be bundled out of your life 
 entirely. It must all be given to that " 
 
 Kate held up her hand. "If he is to be my husband, 
 you will at least speak of him with decent courtesy. "
 
 THE UNEXPECTED 271 
 
 "Oh, there!" cried Sylvia. "I left the shawl on the 
 fence. Wait a moment. I'll run back and get it." 
 With that she disappeared in the darkness. 
 
 Kate stopped to look after her, and as she stood there 
 peering into the gloom the sharp report of a gun rang 
 out on the still air. So incisive and clean cut was the 
 sound that she put her hand involuntarily to her breast 
 as if a nerve had snapped, but she heard the echo come 
 back faintly clear from the bluff. It instantly occurred 
 to her that some of the boys were in the woods 'coon 
 hunting in advance of the season, but the dull, quick 
 thud of a horse's hoofs as if the animal were on the jump 
 made her hold her breath, and then came the sound of a 
 woman's voice unmistakably a scream of terror, that 
 cut the night air like a knife. Kate then gathered her 
 skirtB hurriedly and set out at a run toward the house. 
 As she approached it she saw a lantern shimmering 
 some one was running in the direction of the cries. It 
 was Pierson, and he turned into the orchard north of the 
 house, where he came to a standstill, and the light of his 
 lantern disclosed Leesha in the lane bending over some- 
 thing. Kate came closer and saw Mr. Journingham 
 lying flat on his face in the road, bleeding. The pity of 
 it made her gasp. As Pierson turned him over she saw 
 his blood-covered cravat and the torn furrows on his 
 forehead. Then the thought smote her that she and 
 Sylvia had been disparaging him and wishing that he 
 were dead. The revulsion of feeling overwhelmed her, 
 and stooping down, she lifted his head in her hands, and 
 in another moment Sylvia was kneeling beside her in an 
 awe-struck attitude, offering to help her. The two girls 
 looked into each other's faces and then turned and 
 looked out into the night in deep wonder, without under- 
 standing what had come upon them. The inscrutable
 
 2 72 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 malignancy of it all seemed to benumb Kate, until she 
 was called to herself by Sylvia's voice telling Pierson 
 and Leesha to summon help and carry Mr. Journingham 
 into the house. 
 
 Then there was hurrying of feet, a confusion of voices 
 and audible consternation as they carried the body into 
 the hall and deposited it on the big hall seat. 
 
 Meanwhile, separated only by a few feet of earth and 
 screened by the night, a very different scene was taking 
 place. During the confusion in the lane, while the house- 
 hold was eagerly bending over the prostrate form of 
 Mr. Journingham, Folingsby had stood and glared in a 
 vindictive, satisfied attitude, with an imbecile sneer on 
 his face and with the gun still in his hands. He stood 
 there for some minutes as still as a phantom. Then 
 seemingly aroused to a full sense of the magnitude of his 
 deed, he started at a headlong manner in the opposite 
 direction from the house to hide himself in the blackness 
 of night. He had not gone far into the orchard when a 
 figure stood across his path, and catching the gun from 
 his hand, said: 
 
 " Y've done it. I allers said yer was a fool, Fol Heck- 
 shent, and now y've done it. Stand still. Wher'd yer 
 git it? 'Tain't yourn nor Lunt's Lunt said ye was 
 wicked. " 
 
 "It's the Englishman's gun I got it in - the 
 kitchen." 
 
 "Mebbe I'm savin' yer and mebbe I ain't. Sech a 
 mean mule as you, who wouldn't keep his word with a 
 deputy an' y'r old man a-waitin' ain't goin' to stan' 
 squar' by a gal. Now, Fol Heckshent, yer ain't sech a 
 fox but I got yer in a corner. I've either got to swar yer 
 was with me a marryin' at this blessed hour, or y've 
 got to hang f er shootin' a man. Which is it ? If yer'll
 
 THE UNEXPECTED 273 
 
 stan' squar' by me, yer'll find I've got the grit to save 
 yer." 
 
 "Suke, you know I've stacked on you and'll stand 
 yer squar'. I was makin' tracks for the Shelf now. " 
 
 Without more ado the girl pushed him down on a 
 stone, saying: 
 
 " Don't stir from that rock, Pol Heckshent, till I come." 
 
 She sprang from him with the agility of a panther, 
 and without heeding the way she moved with marvelous 
 fleetness toward the house. Her only thought was to 
 get that gun back into the kitchen. Had she not heard 
 one of the women out there in the stump-field say she 
 wished some man was dead, and here was the gun that 
 did it in her own house. Surely she could save the 
 unworthy man she loved. Swift as were her feet, they 
 could not keep pace with her mind in this awful dilemma. 
 Yes, she could swear he was with her marrying her 
 and that he had no gun. She was now almost through 
 the orchard. There was no light in the kitchen at the 
 corner of the house. But she could hear voices. She 
 stopped and listened. They were bearing Mr. Jour- 
 ningham in at the hall door. She waited until they 
 had all gone in, and then, with an incredible swiftness, 
 she slipped into the kitchen and deposited the gun near 
 the door. As she came cautiously out and was about to 
 retrace her way she thought she saw a man crouching 
 at the end of the porch. Without assuring herself and 
 without hesitating, she sprang forward rapidly. When 
 she reached the spot where she had left Folingsby she 
 spoke his name. But there was no response. The 
 ingrate had vanished. In a tumult of feeling the girl 
 sat down on the stone upon which she had left him and 
 beat her head in helpless perplexity. Where could he 
 have gone ? Her wild nature could not grasp in a moment
 
 2 7 4 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 i 
 
 the pusillanimity or the depravity of such a nature as 
 Folingsby's. She sat there, crooning to herself, trying 
 in a stunned way to understand what had happened and 
 how to act. After all, her only guides were her instincts, 
 and they were unerring. She asked herself again and 
 again where he had gone in that moment. She thought 
 of the crouching figure at the porch, but everything in 
 her resented the thought that it might have been 
 Folingsby. And yet, he would not go up to the Shelf 
 knowing she was not there, nor would he make his way 
 to the Deputy after such a deed. Repulsive as was the 
 suggestion that the crouching figure was none other than 
 Folingsby's, and that with his promise to her fresh on 
 his lips he had made his way back to the scene of his 
 terrible deed, nevertheless when that suggestion grew 
 into a conviction she sprang to her feet and once more 
 found herself drawing near the house, feeling that she 
 could still in some way ward off an impending danger to 
 the man she was shielding. She was now irresolute and 
 hesitating, but seemed drawn by some power beyond 
 herself. 
 
 Again she heard voices, but this time they came from 
 the interior of the house. She went nearer and stood 
 erect behind a tree a few feet from the porch. In 
 another instant the white figure of a woman came out 
 and walked slowly to the edge of the steps, where she 
 stopped and lifted her arms upward, gazing into the 
 heaven as if appealing to it. Almost simultaneous 
 with this act of supplication another figure that of a 
 man darted up the steps and in imploring tones, heavy 
 with the weight of debauch, cried: 
 
 "Kate, Kate, give one word of hope to a feller who 
 done what he did fer your sake. " 
 
 There was a scream of dismay and the white dress
 
 THE UNEXPECTED 275 
 
 fluttered into the hall. The night was as still as if no 
 burden of sin and deception had ruffled the bosom of its 
 serenity. But if the senses of the man at the steps had 
 not been utterly deadened to all sounds but those of self, 
 he would have heard a moan of human despair as the 
 poor creature, who would have sacrificed herself to save 
 him, swooned and sank into a heap there under the 
 shadow of the old Grange.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 "H EART FAILURE" 
 
 NEXT morning the two sisters were up looking into 
 the early dawn with their arms wound about each other, 
 before a sound stirred in the old house. The east was 
 rosy with all the expectation of a new day, and the birds 
 exulted in a hallelujah matin with their usual indiffer- 
 ence to the discomfort and trials of our world. To these 
 innocent women standing there on the brink of the 
 morning it seemed as though they had just awakened 
 from a delusion of the night into the full hope of spotless 
 life calmly relying upon the promise of its Maker. At 
 no hour in the twenty-four does one feel so transported 
 beyond the things of this earth into infinity as at day- 
 break. It requires some wrestling with the actualities 
 of ordinary life to adjust oneself to an earthly plane 
 after awakening into the beautiful dawn world. 
 
 All too soon the consciousness was upon the sisters 
 that they had an ordeal to face that would test stouter 
 hearts than theirs. With their arms still about each 
 other, they went noiselessly down the back stairs to 
 the kitchen in the hope of finding Leesha or Aunt Sussex, 
 who might comfort them, and avoiding the front hall as 
 if an unholy thing were there. 
 
 The whole aspect of this old home was now suddenly 
 changed, and you can well imagine how it looked to two 
 young women so ignorant of the ways of the world as 
 were these daughters. Not since they were little chil- 
 
 276
 
 "HEART FAILURE" 277 
 
 dren had they looked upon death, and now that it had 
 come upon them from out a clear sky they were stunned. 
 They could not help feeling that they themselves had 
 in some way evoked the Angel of Death and asked him 
 to stop at their door. Sylvia, who the night before had 
 been filled with an impulse to take the hand of destiny 
 in her own, making her girlish invocations, now in the 
 full light of the morning felt herself responsible for 
 having brought this calamity upon her sister. Had she 
 not wished Mr. Journingham was dead, and hardly had 
 the wish escaped her before it was granted. It required 
 all the assurance of Aunt Sussex and of Kate to convince 
 Sylvia that she was in no way to blame. 
 
 Kate, who was more outwardly composed, neverthe- 
 less spared herself no soul-searchings. She shared to a 
 certain extent the same feeling in kind as was her 
 sister's. How fervently she had longed to be freed from 
 this man, whom she knew she could never love, and it had 
 seemed that she would welcome any outlet from an 
 alliance the contemplation of which daily grew more 
 repugnant to her ! But now that Fate in the twinkling 
 of an eye had left her unfettered she felt an inexplicable 
 yearning to call back yesterday, with its disagreeable 
 environment, rather than endure the awful present, 
 with its menace of publicity and misunderstanding, and 
 the awful reproach that encircled it. Reason as she 
 would, she could not free herself of the apprehension 
 that she might be looked upon as in some way morally 
 accountable for the death of Mr. Journingham. She 
 had brought him from England, and but for her he would 
 now be hale and hearty, enjoying his dinner at the club. 
 Was it her sordidness that had brought it all about? 
 She had really meant to keep her promise to the man 
 like a Bussey should, for even now in her extremity she
 
 278 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 felt the blood of her grandmother leap in her veins in 
 protest at any suggestion or thought that she would 
 have betrayed her loyalty to that promise. Kate 
 was endowed with such a sensitive and self-sacrificing 
 nature that she could not receive so great a shock as 
 this without giving herself the greatest uneasiness of 
 conscience. She saw, too, that her aunt wore a disap- 
 pointed air, as if to intimate that all inevitable catas- 
 trophes would have been avoided if Kate had followed 
 her advice and married Mr. Journingham without delay. 
 She shrank in dismay from the publicity that now 
 threatened her, and clung to Sylvia with speechless 
 reserve. 
 
 Early as was the hour, strange voices and strange 
 footsteps were approaching. The big world must have 
 heard of their tragedy and was curious. Kate instinc- 
 tively knew that the people of the countryside would 
 not understand her situation, and longed to be hidden 
 from gaze in the recesses of her own room or in the quiet 
 depths of the woods. But there seemed to be no escape 
 for her. Before Sylvia and she were aware of it, they 
 found themselves surrounded by a heterogeneous com- 
 pany which they had not summoned, and it wore an 
 aspect of suspicion, of doubt and of curiosity. 
 
 Penelly Seton came excitedly at the sisters, saying: 
 
 "Do you know, I wouldn't believe it until I came with 
 Mr. Palgrave and saw it with my own eyes. Isn't it 
 awful? And no one seems to know who did it." 
 
 For the first time in their intimacy Sylvia felt dis- 
 trustful of her friend. At such serious crises we feel 
 the hollowness or the holiness of friendship. 
 
 Kate withdrew to a corner of the hall, perceiving that 
 the company was momentarily increasing, but not 
 realizing the meaning of such an assemblage. She
 
 "HEART FAILURE" 279 
 
 wondered if it could be that humanity was so rabidly 
 curious. The fact that the people were gathering at a 
 coroner's inquest had never crossed her mind. She 
 indistinctly saw a familiar face here and there in the 
 group, but for the most part they were strangers. 
 Leesha and Pierson came and stood near her, and Leesha, 
 bending over her, whispered: 
 
 "Chare up, chare up, Miss Kate. Fore de Lo'd, no 
 harm shall come to y'r. Unc'l Dan'l dun send fer dat 
 nigger Pete to tote him all de way over hyar, for he say 
 he reckoned de missus need 'im." 
 
 A sob rose to Kate's throat at this rude fidelity, but 
 their coarse pity touched her pride and strengthened 
 her resolution to brave all eyes and turn aside all 
 innuendoes. Presently she saw Judge Heckshent slowly 
 making his way through the group, accompanied by 
 Doctor Dunphy. She thought he looked more broken 
 and feeble than she had ever seen him, and a sense of 
 self-commiseration filled her as she realized that this 
 once strong man and staunch friend no longer had the 
 physical or mental power to protect or defend her. 
 She now needed a man's support and guardianship above 
 all else in this world, but she had never been so bereft 
 and alone as she sat there apart in that strange and 
 whispering throng. Surely her cup of helplessness and 
 humiliation was full. 
 
 The Judge came and spoke kindly to Kate and tried 
 to allay her nervous fears with such meaningless 
 assurances as leaped to his lips. But Kate thought 
 them singularly weak and inadequate. 
 
 Suddenly she became aware of a hush that seemed to 
 permeate the entire house and reach out into space, 
 and in the stillness she heard a strange, kindly voice, 
 that Leesha said was the Coroner's, say:
 
 2 8 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 "Judge Heckshent, in this preliminary investigation 
 I think it would be well to examine the witnesses most 
 closely connected with this household." 
 
 The Judge replied, "Do we understand that you will 
 conduct the examination?" 
 
 Before the Coroner could reply, a pert young man 
 jumped up and said: "Your Honour I appear in 
 behalf of Mr. Journingham. He consulted with me 
 yesterday evening just before the tragedy. >n fact, 
 he appears to have ridden straight from my office to his 
 death." 
 
 Penelly Seton simpered and looked at the young 
 lawyer out of the corner of her doll-like eyes as 
 if he and she had some secret understanding or 
 special information. Sylvia turned to Kate in apparent 
 disgust at this uncalled-for demonstration, as the 
 Coroner again spoke: 
 
 "Mr. Journingham's attorney, Mr. Palgrave, appears 
 for the people, with my permission." 
 
 Then there was an ominous debate among the lawyers, 
 and a break in which Kate heard her name called, and 
 some one led her to a chair nearer the Coroner and his 
 jury, and Mr. Palgrave began questioning: 
 
 "Now, Miss Bussey, you will please answer my ques- 
 tions simply." 
 
 Judge Heckshent here objected, but the Coroner sus- 
 tained Mr. Palgrave at the outset. 
 
 "You were engaged to be married to the late Mr. 
 Journingham?" 
 
 "Yes, I was." 
 
 "The engagement was made by mail?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "How long before this sad occurrence was that 
 engagement made?"
 
 "HEART FAILURE" 281 
 
 Kate seemed uncertain "About two or three 
 months. " 
 
 "By letter, you say?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "And in reply to that letter, Mr. Journingham appeared 
 at the Grange, coming from Europe." 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "After he appeared here you had some kind of a disa- 
 greement with him." 
 
 "Hardly a disagreement. We did not both look at 
 the details of the matter in the same light. That 
 was all." 
 
 "You were with Mr. Journingham yesterday afternoon 
 prior to his death." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Were you out on the highway, riding together?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "Now, Miss Bussey, please look at this gun and tell 
 me if you know whose gun it is. Examine it well." 
 
 "Yes, sir. The gun belongs to Mr. Journingham. 
 He had it on the porch before we went riding." 
 
 "Whereabouts on the porch did he place the gun?" 
 
 "He placed it at the southwest corner of the porch." 
 
 "How long did it remain there?" 
 
 "While we were riding." 
 
 "Who removed it?" 
 
 "I did." 
 
 "Why did you remove it?" 
 
 "Because the corner of the porch was no place for it." 
 
 "Where did you remove it?" 
 
 "I carried it into the kitchen." 
 
 "Now, Miss Bussey, tell the jury plainly and frankly 
 why you thought it best to carry that gun into the 
 kitchen."
 
 282 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 "Well, sir, there had been an encounter between 
 Mr. Journingham and young Mr. Heckshent. They 
 met on the road, and Mr. Journingham struck Mr. Heck- 
 shent across the face with his whip, and it occurred to 
 me that if there were ill feelings between them the gun 
 had better be kept out of sight." 
 
 "Your Honour," said Judge Heckshent, "I must 
 object to this line of examination. There is no need 
 of evidence that Miss Bussey was thinking of the 
 possibility of Mr. Journingham shooting or being shot. 
 Thinking has nothing to do with the facts. Come to the 
 facts." 
 
 The Coroner utterly ignored the Judge's objection, 
 and Mr. Palgrave pursued his questioning with renewed 
 vigour. 
 
 "When you had taken the gun into the kitchen you 
 came back immediately to the porch and your sister 
 was with you." 
 
 "Yes no no." 
 
 "At least, you met Mr. Journingham and were the 
 last person to see him alive, and you admit that you 
 had the gun in your hand. Now, Your Honour, this is 
 important." 
 
 Kate felt the bands of evidence tightening about 
 her and was too astonished and bewildered to make any 
 resistance. Clearly this man meant to confuse her to 
 the point of convicting herself. A certain terror and 
 awe seized upon her as the attorney before her seemed 
 gradually to grow into the personification of a Nemesis 
 sent by the dead man to persecute her. Consciousness 
 seemed receding and her heart was like lead. The dis- 
 grace of it all would kill her, and they would lay her out 
 there beside the dead man who, despite all obstacles, 
 would claim her in death even as he had in life.
 
 "HEART FAILURE" 283 
 
 She heard the next question as in a trance and made 
 a supreme effort to collect herself. 
 
 "You and your sister then left Mr. Journingham on 
 his horse and walked away. Where did you go?" 
 
 "We walked through the wood to the grass-field." 
 
 "Now tell the jury candidly why you and your sister 
 walked to that grass-field." 
 
 "I cannot tell why. I don't think we had any definite 
 purpose. I think we were both nervous and wished to 
 be alone." 
 
 "How long did you stay in the field?" 
 
 "Perhaps half an hour." 
 
 "Did no one else go there while you were there?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Who was it?" 
 
 "Pierson." 
 
 "Why did he go to the field?" 
 
 "He had a letter for me." 
 
 "Who was that letter from?" 
 
 Here Kate looked timidly at the Coroner and said: 
 "Must I answer that question, sir?" 
 
 "I think you had better answer it, Miss Bussey." 
 
 "The letter was from Mr. John Burt." 
 
 "Ah," said the attorney, with evident satisfaction, 
 "this is getting interesting. What occurred when you 
 received the letter?" 
 
 "My sister took it and read it by the light of one of 
 the burning stumps." 
 
 "She was very much surprised at it, was she not?" 
 
 Kate looked annoyed and glanced round as if some 
 one ought to interpose an objection, but nobody did. 
 
 "She was interested." 
 
 "Now, Miss Bussey, you may tell us what you did 
 after reading that letter."
 
 284 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 "We stood there talking in the field and then we 
 heard a shot." 
 
 "Was there no one else in the field while you were 
 there?" 
 
 "No; I think not." 
 
 "Well, think again, Miss Bussey. Did not Suke Turck 
 come there?" 
 
 "Not to my knowledge." 
 
 "When you came back from the field you went to the 
 kitchen. You were in the kitchen when the gun was 
 fired, were you not?" 
 
 "No, sir; I was in the field." 
 
 "You are not quite sure you were in the field when you 
 heard that shot, are you, Miss Bussey?" 
 
 "Yes, sir; I am sure I was in the field when I heard 
 the shot." 
 
 "Well, now, tell us who you talked about while you 
 stayed in the field." 
 
 Kate glanced piteously about for relief, but the lawyer 
 again plied the question. 
 
 "I think we talked about Mr. Journingham." 
 
 "And whom else did you talk about, Miss Bussey?" 
 
 "About Mr. Burt." 
 
 "Ah and did not one of you say: 'Send for him to 
 come back and kill Mr. Journingham or somebody?" 
 
 "No, no, no," sobbed Kate. *-'"' 
 
 "Then which of you was it, Miss Bussey, who said 
 she wished Mr. Journingham was dead?" 
 
 Kate was horrified and powerless to answer the 
 attorney. She made a mute protest with her hand and 
 shook her head, as he continued: 
 
 "As Miss Bussey is not quite sure about this, your 
 Honour, I will produce a witness who was on the spot and 
 heard the conversation. I will now sum up this evidence
 
 "HEART FAILURE" 285 
 
 and proceed to show that Mr. Journingham came to his 
 death as the result of a conspiracy between Miss Kate 
 Bussey and Mr. John Burt. Mr. Burt's motives were 
 those of a rival, and Miss Bussey's those of a woman 
 who felt herself forced to marry a man for whom she 
 had no affection she, in fact, had already shown that 
 her affections were given to another. Circumstances 
 aided and abetted that conspiracy by placing a gun in 
 the hands of an unscrupulous person who had already 
 quarreled with Mr. Journingham." 
 
 Here Judge Heckshent rose to his feet and strenu- 
 ously exclaimed: 
 
 "Your Honour, the learned gentleman who has come 
 to this case appears to have formed a theory of his own 
 and is conducting it with reference to his theory. I think, 
 Your Honour, the better way would be to present all the 
 facts that are accessible and let the Coroner's jury form 
 its own theory. You are wasting time in this line of 
 examination. Call your other witnesses." 
 
 Kate was then led back to her chair and there was 
 some discussion as to who should be the next witness 
 called. Folingsby was brought in, but Lawyer Palgrave 
 insisted upon putting Suke Turck into the chair to con- 
 clude his evidence. As the Deputy led the girl through 
 the hall to the chair, they passed Folingsby and he 
 called out to her: 
 
 "Remember your promise, Suke." 
 
 "I guess I'm more apt to remember a promise nor you 
 are," she retorted. 
 
 Lawyer Palgrave began in a much more self-assured 
 manner with this witness, and asked his first question 
 at random. 
 
 "Did you see the gun fired that killed Mr. Journing- 
 ham?"
 
 2 86 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 "I just did, sir." 
 
 "Will you please tell the jury who it was fired the 
 gun." 
 
 "It was that man," pointing at Folingsby. "I saw 
 him take the gun, aim it and fire it." 
 
 There was general consternation, and especially upon 
 the part of Lawyer Palgrave. There was a hubbub 
 among the group, and presently a great effort was made 
 to confuse Suke in her testimony. But the girl could not 
 be budged. All she would add was: 
 
 "If he'd 'a' been squar' with me I'd 'a' saved him, but 
 he 'lowed he was plum bad and there ain't no way to 
 be said but to squar' scores." 
 
 Again Judge Heckshent rose this time with an 
 apparent effort. All eyes were now upon him, but he 
 did not waver. 
 
 "Your Honour," he said, "what this girl says is true. 
 I am in duty bound to corroborate her statement. She 
 tried undoubtedly to shield the guilty person from the 
 consequences of his act, which was a noble impulse on 
 her part, and nothing prevented her from so doing but 
 the utterly dastardly conduct of the man himself. He 
 had promised her to marry her. It was the merest 
 reparation the simplest kind that he could make, but 
 when it came to keeping his word, he refused. The 
 daughter of my old friend Colonel John Bussey is an 
 innocent woman. I speak that which I know, for the 
 culprit has confessed to me." 
 
 As he made this last statement he sank into his chair, 
 and the Coroner said: 
 
 "I think, Judge, you had better tell the jury who it 
 is has confessed to you." 
 
 The Judge was now sitting bolt upright, twitching his 
 neck in his black stock uneasily and looking wearily
 
 "HEART FAILURE" 287 
 
 about the group as if in search of a friend, and then his 
 chin sank into his stock as if his last prop had given way, 
 and an expression of pain came into his wearied features 
 as he said : 
 
 "I had hoped to escape this, but Heaven has placed it 
 squarely before me as a duty, and as God is my witness 
 I cannot at this point in my life dodge it. I would have 
 justice done though the Heavens should fall. The 
 evidence now before you is circumstantial, direct and 
 unmistakable. You will never know what it costs me 
 to say this, gentlemen, but cost what it may, my whole 
 life has been given unfalteringly to justice and truth, 
 and I do not at this late hour in my life intend to be 
 recreant to the highest and noblest motives which can 
 influence a man in the performance of his duty. If you 
 will permit the witnesses to proceed you will find that 
 the murderer of Mr. Journingham is my son." 
 
 He gave a gasp as he said it, and a little murmur of 
 pity and sympathy ran round the group. 
 
 "This admission on my part, gentlemen, is costing 
 me my life, but that is a small consideration in view of 
 the demands of justice." 
 
 He wavered in his chair and would have fallen out 
 upon his face if Doctor Dunphy had not caught him and 
 held him back. It was very evident to all of them that 
 he was in no condition to withstand more, and the Coroner 
 moved an adjournment and dismissed the jury. Kate 
 and Sylvia were immediately at the Judge's side, crying : 
 "Uncle Caleb! Uncle Caleb!" Several of the friends 
 came up and pressed about him, for they all took a 
 kindly interest in him, but Doctor Dunphy ordered 
 them all away, and calling Pierson they bore him up the 
 stairs with gentle hands and sat him there on the edge 
 of the bed in the big room in the east wing where his
 
 288 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 dear old benefactress Dame Bussey and her son Colonel 
 John had breathed their last. He sat there a few 
 moments with Kate and Sylvia by his side, but presently 
 he grew so weak that he fell over on the bed and they 
 did not attempt to lift him up again. 
 
 The closing scenes of the Judge's life were pathetic 
 in the extreme to those who knew and loved him. He 
 suffered very little physical pain, but ' his mind gave 
 way under his affliction and began to ramble : 
 
 "My dear Kate," he said, "this is all terribly cruel to 
 Folly and you must break it to him gently. Remember 
 how tender and fragile are the susceptibilities of the 
 young I think I had better do it myself if you will 
 bring him to me." 
 
 Kate left Sylvia by his side and shortly reappeared, 
 bringing Folingsby. He was dressed in a velvet jacket 
 from the broadside pocket of which flamed two bandanna 
 handkerchiefs, making him look like a young Vacquero. 
 Kate seated him beside his father. The sight of Fol- 
 ingsby in this velvet jacket seemed to bring to his father's 
 mind a renewal of many of its early impressions, and he 
 maundered of a picture he had of Folingsby in a velvet 
 jacket with a big white collar, taken when he was a child, 
 at which time the Judge used to lead him out and be so 
 proud of him. The Judge's mind gave way entirely, 
 and he maudled about Folingsby and the future until 
 Kate, unable to withstand the pity of it, beckoned to 
 the deputy at the door to take Folingsby away. But 
 that young man entirely disregarded these sentiments 
 of his father. He thought he had been cruelly wronged, 
 and that his father ought to stand by him even in 
 crime, which belief had been fostered by his mother. 
 
 Then the little family of women gathered in the room 
 downstairs and waited for the Judge to pass quietly out
 
 "HEART FAILURE" 289 
 
 of one life into another, the inextinguishable pity of it 
 making them dumb even when most wrought upon. 
 This was the situation on the succeeding Sunday morn- 
 ing when the Doctor gave them to understand that the 
 Judge had passed beyond medical control, and on Sunday 
 night he died quietly, with his hand on Folingsby's 
 shoulder. As they turned him over on the bed, Doctor 
 Dunphy, with his chipper reassurance, walked about 
 the group and whispered in each ear: 
 
 "It's all right simply heart failure. He did not 
 suffer any. " 
 
 So the old gentleman passed from this vale of tears 
 into another world, encompassed by the same lies and 
 hypocrisy that had made his life a waste. " Heart 
 failure" was a most comprehensive official explanation, 
 and they all accepted it as such. Heart failure, indeed, 
 it was, but the heart failure of a life not of a crisis. 
 The man that had been hungering through all his years 
 for the reasonable affection of a son went out into the 
 darkness without feeling it and leaving behind him a 
 tangled web of possibilities in which there was no kindly 
 gleam.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 A REVELATION 
 
 ON a beautiful September morning the University 
 Club in New York City broke out into decorative hys- 
 terics. It was in a flutter of mild excitement from its 
 cornice to its curb. Thousands of little flags danced all 
 over it. Music of a gallopading order issued from its 
 parlour windows, and experienced listeners who passed 
 by knew that some great pianist was exercising his 
 arms on a grand piano and was extracting octaves as 
 John Burt, who sat in the smoking-room, would have 
 said "in much the same manner as wood-pulp is 
 extracted from an unseemly trunk." Groups of listeners 
 on the sidewalk and in vehicles that were drawn up to the 
 curb occasionally applauded, and handkerchiefs waved 
 from passing carriages. 
 
 Tony Brahm came into the smoking-room on the 
 jump, and calling to John Burt, said: 
 
 "Don't you want to see the best part of the exhibition 
 it's on the street and some of our old friends are in it." 
 Whereupon the two men lit their cigars, and going down 
 into the billiard room, drew their chairs up to the win- 
 dows and complacently watched, first the gay equipages 
 in the street, and next the ennuied billiard players who 
 seemed to have grown weary under too much of this 
 kind of excitement. 
 
 It was one of those hot September days when summer 
 reasserts herself in a little spasm of sultry insistence. 
 
 290
 
 A REVELATION 291 
 
 Tony Brahm was in a condition of lassitude and looked 
 beamingly luxuriant as he puffed his cigar and regarded 
 his old friend. 
 
 "You seem to be unusually chipper this morning," he 
 said. "How do you manage it on such a hot day? I 
 have been watching you ever since breakfast and you are 
 as nervous and restless as a grasshopper. " 
 
 " You might say as a cricket, for I just came out of the 
 woods," John replied. 
 
 "Well, at any rate, you make me feel positively torrid 
 the way you jump about, " said Tony. "Why don't you 
 sit still and take things calmly, as I do ? One never would 
 suspect you only had three hours' sleep last night. What 
 time did that infernal train get in anyhow ? I waited up 
 for you till near midnight, for I've got a lot to say to you. 
 You haven't let me get my oar in once about Cuba, and 
 I've been waiting nearly four weeks for you to get back 
 from the piney region but, by Jove, I didn't suppose 
 you'd land here on the hottest day of the year." And 
 Tony pulled out a white silk handkerchief of ample size 
 and mopped his forehead and neck with it. 
 
 John gave little heed to his friend's entreaties until he 
 had carefully and systematically adjusted a bunch of 
 legal papers and opened and shut a large-sized bulgy 
 wallet a score of times. Then, poking them all well 
 down into his pockets, he settled back in his chair in 
 imitation of Tony's attitude and tried to look cool and 
 receptive. 
 
 "Do you know, Tony, I've won out big on wood-pulp 
 this time, and I want you to know something about the 
 advantages " 
 
 "Oh, hang wood-pulp ! " exclaimed Tony. " I tell you 
 I'm full of Cuba, and just at present must talk about it 
 or get under that ice cooler. General Jordan was here
 
 292 THE CONQUERING OP KATE 
 
 yesterday just up from Cuba on a furlough and 
 stirred me all up again. I am convinced more than ever 
 that you and I will miss the opportunity of our lives if 
 we don't get in there now and make things hum with our 
 northern industry. Why, man, where those fellows 
 down there turn out a few cargoes of coffee and sugar a 
 season, you and I, with your engineering and agricultural 
 knowledge, can double- discount them and, besides, I 
 propose to own two or three vessels of my own for trans- 
 portation. Then, when the United States gets in there, 
 as she's bound to do, we'll have things our own way. 
 Don't you see it? Why don't you say something? By 
 Jove, you're as cool as a hot day in San Francisco. " 
 
 "And you, " said John Burt, " are as irrational as a hot 
 day in Cuba. Who in thunder would want to go down 
 there now, when the yellow fever is probably putting in 
 its beneficent work thinning out the inhabitants that the 
 insurgents happen to have left alive ? There's no reason 
 why we should go down there at the deadliest moment, 
 when a little patience will allow the season to arrange 
 itself to our comfort. No, sir; we can complete our plans, 
 I'll add a little to my capital, and then we'll slip out just 
 before the winter sets in to make the temperate zone 
 unbearable. It is better to mature our details 
 thoroughly, and then, sometime in November, 
 perhaps " 
 
 "You always were a methodical cuss, Jack, and that's 
 just the reason I want to lasso you. Now, see here, you 
 can't make a fortune out of wood-pulp. Sugar and 
 coffee are your game. And if it's money that you're 
 waiting for, hang it, man, look at me don't I look good 
 enough to supply any demand?" 
 
 "When I look at your sanguine blue eyes, pink skin 
 and fat pocketbook," said John, "you do appear to be
 
 A REVELATION 293 
 
 a wonderful fellow I might almost say you seem a 
 Monto Cristo to my practical vision." 
 
 "Well, I'm off to Cuba next month, and I want you 
 to make up your mind that you're going with me. I'll 
 see to it that you'll never regret it, and next year this 
 time wood-pulp will look to you like a dream of the 
 Middle Ages. There are one or two things that I've got 
 to attend to before I clear out, and one of them is that 
 I'm booked for a wedding at the Grange sometime before 
 long. You're going down, too, aren't you?" 
 
 John looked up incredulously. "You don't say you 
 are serious about it! Well, I'm not much surprised, 
 for any one with half an eye could see that the little imp 
 in the Garibaldi was fluttering about you like a butterfly. 
 She was calling you pet names before we left. I never 
 had any one think enough of me to call me ' Butter and 
 Eggs!'" 
 
 "Except it was that Gretchen at Wittemburg," said 
 Tony. 
 
 "Oh, you were the lucky fellow in that respect, too," 
 said John, "and I often thought that you might have 
 some intention in that direction." 
 
 "Not a bit of it," said Tony. "My taste has grown 
 since then. Her speech, like her build, was too heavy, 
 and her fists were made up of dimples that she was 
 always ready to throw at you on the slightest provo- 
 cation." 
 
 "They stuck where 'she threw them, at any rate," said 
 John. "You've got three or four of them around your 
 mouth now. No wonder the little woman at the Grange, 
 and even her staid aunt, were fascinated. Such dimples 
 are irresistible. Mine, you see, fell off long ago when 
 I left Wittemburg or was it the Grange." 
 
 John glanced at Tony and caught him bowing to some
 
 294 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 one through the open window and waving his handker- 
 chief indolently, apparently giving no heed to his last 
 words. Then John turned squarely upon his friend, 
 saying : 
 
 "Now, I don't mind making a confidant of you, old 
 fellow, if you will give me a little attention, but first I 
 must tell you that I am not going to wait until next 
 month or for your wedding before I make my trip to the 
 Grange. I've been collecting a nice little pile for Miss 
 Bussey as well as for myself, and I'm going down there 
 to-morrow to deliver this check into her own hands and 
 see how things are progressing in the fields. Take a 
 look at that." 
 
 And he handed Tony a check of $10,000, payable to 
 the order of Miss Kate Bussey. 
 
 "You see, Miss Bussey could pay off half the indebted- 
 ness of her estate with that amount if she was disposed 
 to use it in that way, and I have a notion that she will 
 do it. Then, I have arranged with the Southern Improve- 
 ment Company to take about one hundred acres of that 
 upland you admired and erect a sanitarium on it, if she 
 will part with it. That ought to give her enough to clear 
 the entire estate of all liens and stand it on its own legs. 
 You understand I left some orders down there for the 
 improvement of the place. I'll only stay a day or so, 
 for I'm due at the North Woods again by the end of the 
 week. But I'll return from there in time to be your best 
 man in October, didn't you say ? By the way, you 
 haven't asked me yet, have you, old chap?" 
 
 "If you were not so taken up with your own affairs 
 you'd stop your enthusiastic gabble and listen to me a 
 minute instead of getting things topsy turvy. I haven't 
 said a word about my own wedding. I said I was going 
 to Miss Kate Bussey's wedding, and I should judge from
 
 A REVELATION 295 
 
 appearances that your check will come in just about 
 right to procure her trousseau, instead of settling up an . 
 estate. I supposed you had heard all about it, and thought 
 we would go down together just to pay our respects to 
 the bride." 
 
 John Burt stared straight ahead as if interested only 
 in the palpitating flags that encircled the window, and 
 he made no reply. The revelation stunned him. Tony 
 indolently turned his head toward him and asked: 
 
 "Well, have you gone to sleep, or isn't the subject of 
 enough importance to give a fellow an answer? Will 
 you go?" 
 
 John assumed an air of blank indifference and asked: 
 "Where did you get your information? This is the 
 first I have heard of it." 
 
 "Had a letter from the aunt, and she said she'd 
 written to you about it, too," and he took a diminutive 
 lavender-coloured missive from his pocket, fanned him- 
 self with it a moment, and passed it to John to read. 
 
 After some moments' silence John asked: "Who the 
 devil is Journingham ? " 
 
 "Why, man, he's the passenger that was lost on the 
 Oceanica. You must remember him," and Tony let out 
 a guffaw that shook the chair he sat in. "Miss Kate 
 Bussey has been engaged to him for a long time since 
 May or June, I believe. Say, John, by the expression 
 of your face you must be terribly struck. Is there any- 
 thing wrong? If there's anything I can do for you, old 
 boy, say so." 
 
 John sat there as stolid as a rock. His hands went a 
 little deeper into his pockets, but that was the only 
 demonstration he made. When he spoke again his 
 words came with calm deliberation: 
 
 "It's hard to believe human nature capable of such
 
 296 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 duplicity. Give me time to think perhaps you can 
 do something for me, Tony." 
 
 The piano began to thump again at full swing, and it 
 sounded to John, as he sat there in a deep reverie, like 
 some infernal orchestra devised to make men mad. 
 Tony watched his friend's mood with some perplexity. 
 Suddenly John turned as if he had thought it all out 
 and had come to a pronounced decision that demanded 
 instant action. 
 
 "Tony I must postpone my trip to the Grange. 
 You say you are going down there soon, and you can 
 deliver a package to Miss Bussey for me. Will you 
 do it?" 
 
 "Oh, pshaw! Come along down with me, and we'll 
 rustle them up. We might get ourselves up like guar- 
 dian angels. You've just explained to me that you've 
 got the business part of it all arranged, and you'll have 
 to go and explain it to Miss Bussey, too, of course." 
 
 "Guardian angels never go in pairs. I should think 
 you would know that. Whenever we have tried it we 
 began to fall over each other. Besides, guardian angels 
 never arrange the practicalities. No, you play the 
 part of Claude Melnotte you'll have my ducats with 
 you all ready to throw at them and leave the sterner 
 duties of life to me. You see, I have a clear sense of the 
 course of action I ought to pursue in any such condition 
 of affairs. So I guess, old friend, on sober second 
 thought, I will go to Cuba to-morrow instead of to the 
 Grange." 
 
 He got up and began walking about in the endeavour 
 to relieve his feelings and to clench his decision. 
 
 "I can go ahead and prospect a little," he continued, 
 ' ' and get things in shape for you when you want to come 
 down later. I'll leave my wood-pulp interests in the
 
 A REVELATION 297 
 
 hands of my uncle for a month or so and look into sugar 
 and coffee." 
 
 " Oh," said Tony. " I thought you said a few minutes 
 ago that the yellow fever might carry you off at this 
 season of the year. You don't want to die yet, do you ?" 
 
 "No, I only want to get straightened out a bit, and 
 perhaps Cuba will do as well as any other place better 
 than the North Woods, at any rate. I suppose you think 
 me changeable, but hang it all, my interest in wood-pulp 
 has taken a tremendous drop." 
 
 "Well, it seems to me," said Tony, "that you're in an 
 infernal hurry. There's a suddenness about you that 
 rustles my tranquillity. I'd go with you, but Aunt 
 Sussex might need me at the Grange." And a sly light 
 came into the blue eyes and the dimples began to play 
 about his mouth. 
 
 "How about the other little woman?" 
 
 "Well, Jack, I'm bound to confess that whenever I 
 caught that little chunk of womanhood looking me 
 squarely in the face and gazing into these confounded 
 dimples, an absurd notion possessed me that she was 
 putting out her little hand timidly and that I ought to 
 catch hold of it. But I never did, and I think I'd 
 better go down and see about it now before I go to Cuba, 
 and you ought to come along." 
 
 "No, old man; you go right along down there if you 
 feel that way about it, and, as Judge Heckshent would 
 say, I will attend to the 'prac-ti-cal-i-ties.' I was made 
 to conquer the unattainable unless it should happen 
 to be a woman. I never stopped but once to look in any 
 other ^direction, and when I did I found I had made 
 a fool of myself and was usurping another man's place. 
 There's only one thing about it Miss Bussey must find 
 another overseer. I shall seek green fields and pastures
 
 298 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 new. Let us not talk any more about it. My mind is 
 made up. I'll see you again to-night, old chap." 
 
 With that, he turned abruptly and went down to the 
 reading-room, and in the heart of the gala day, sur- 
 rounded by laughter and merriment, burying his deep 
 chagrin and disappointment, he wrote a last letter to 
 the only woman he had ever cared for. 
 
 " UNIVERSITY CLUB, NEW YORK CITY. 
 " Miss KATE BUSSEY. 
 
 ' ' Honoured Mistress : Enclosed you will find check for 
 the amount of money you placed in my keeping with its 
 increment to date. Trusting that you will feel no 
 annoyance at having put it in my hands, and with 
 regrets that I can no longer handle it to your advantage, 
 I beg to subscribe myself, 
 
 "Your obedient servant, 
 
 " JOHN BURT. 
 
 "P. S. If you want to sell one hundred acres of upland 
 to the Southern Improvement Company of New York, 
 communicate with them at once. .. ; J. B." 
 
 He then took from his wallet a little flat bunch of 
 faded rosebuds and slipped them in beside the check, 
 where they seemed to nestle easily. 
 
 Next day he placed the package in Tony Brahm's 
 keeping when that young man accompanied him to the 
 steamer. Tony clung to his friend's hand and gave 
 him many parting admonitions about his work in Cuba, 
 and, making all sorts of jocular promises with regard to 
 the part he himself would play when he went to the 
 Grange, he asked John if he hadn't some further word to 
 send to its mistress. 
 
 "After all, Tony," replied John, "a man ought to
 
 A REVELATION 299 
 
 treat a woman of Miss Kate Bussey's nobility of char- 
 acter with the utmost magnanimity. I have endeav- 
 oured to do so in this letter, but I fear that heretofore 
 in my relations with her I must have fallen far short of 
 that standard. She is a woman of pride and spirit 
 well worth any man's conquering, and Mr. Journingham 
 must be a man of extraordinary character to have won 
 her. I can see very plainly now that such a practical 
 drone as I am could never fulfil her ideal. Give her a 
 hearty godspeed from her former overseer and hand 
 her the package old chap don't forget." 
 
 "Well, the deuce, if the situation don't grow more 
 like that in the play all the time ! I'll have to go and 
 hunt up the 'Lady of Lyons' and see just what it is 
 Claude Melnotte says, anyhow, or I'll never do the thing 
 up right. Good-by, Jack," he shouted, as the vessel 
 moved from the wharf; "rely on me to be with you in 
 less than a month." 
 
 Thus, as circumstances would have it, while Kate 
 Bussey sat helpless at the bedside of her old friend, the 
 Judge, the man she most needed to come to her assistance 
 was on the steamer bound for Cuba.
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 THE DEVIL'S LINK IN THE CHAIN OP NATURE AND OTHER 
 LINKS NOT so SATANIC 
 
 ONCE more in its history the Grange was without a 
 man and rudderless. It sank easily into its former 
 condition of suppression and took on the atmosphere 
 of reticence and solemnity that appealed to the reader 
 at an earlier period in its record before John Burt's 
 shadow fell across the acres to disturb with a man's 
 enterprise the tranquillity of a slumbering estate. 
 
 The same sweet air steals up from the south and 
 enswathes the old home with a drowsy embrace, but the 
 sparkle and brilliancy of June have given way to a 
 delightful haziness that betokens the fall of the year 
 and breathes of October. You can no longer discern 
 the misty peaks in the distance or note the clarity of the 
 air. A golden shimmering film covers the landscape 
 and fills one with a languor and sadness that belong to 
 the dying year. 
 
 Leesha comes out several times a day and sweeps the 
 falling leaves from the broad portico as if she had a spite 
 against the season and saw no beauty in the many- 
 coloured carpet it is spreading. You would feel, if you 
 stood there with her a moment, that a deeper spell than 
 ever hovered over the place, and that any one who 
 entered the enchanted domain would sink into stupefying 
 listlessness. Especially would you feel this now that 
 
 30
 
 THE DEVIL'S AND OTHER LINKS 301 
 
 women alone inhabit it and indolently leave it to expire 
 in its own inertia. 
 
 Such was the condition of the home one morning 
 some four weeks after the Judge's, death when Sylvia, 
 who had recovered her ebullient spirits, exploded into 
 girlish protest. 
 
 "There's not a man on the whole horizon," she said. 
 "Even if we knew Folingsby were about haunting the 
 place it would be a relief. But his mother had to clear 
 him out to the Mussel Shoals or somewhere while the 
 Deputy's eye was off him. Now she will have full sway here 
 and add another woman to the difficulties. I wonder if 
 the Sheriff will find Folingsby again away off down there." 
 
 "How can you speak so lightly of that outlaw?" said 
 Aunt Sussex. "Let us hope that we never will hear of 
 him again and I trust that you will refrain from men- 
 tioning him again in my presence. " 
 
 " He will probably at no time see this part of the world 
 again, Aunt," said Kate calmly, "and I can say for 
 myself that I wish the Sheriff would not try to find him. 
 Folingsby will have punishment enough in his own con- 
 science, especially if Mr. Journingham haunts him as he 
 does me." 
 
 "That sounds very magnanimous," said her aunt, 
 "but it is far from justice. The authorities are dealing 
 with that young rascal in entirely too lenient a manner. 
 It is not enough that they allowed him to escape 
 I believe they mean to let him go altogether just 
 on account of the Judge's character and memory. 
 It was a good thing they got him away when they did or 
 I should not have stayed here another day. " 
 
 Kate was not in an opposing mood, and went out upon 
 the porch and sat down on the steps, where she rested 
 against one of the white pillars. Sylvia and Aunt
 
 302 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 Sussex followed her, but maintained a silence which was 
 broken only by the sighing breeze and the falling leaves 
 from the rustling vines. These women had been filled 
 with vague anxieties for some weeks, but out of con- 
 sideration for one another refrained from expressing 
 them. After a few moments Kate said: 
 
 " I think I'll take a little walk. " 
 
 "You don't care for my company any more, do you?" 
 said Sylvia. 
 
 " Yes, I do, " answered Kate. "You shall go with me. 
 We'll go and see how Unc'l Dan'l's rheumatism is 
 to-day." 
 
 Sylvia was unusually exuberant when they set out. 
 Some kind of growing chasm in their lives had been dis- 
 covered, and they both felt like closing it up. They 
 walked along side by side until they reached the river, 
 when Sylvia said: 
 
 "Don't you think, Kate, that we should be perfectly 
 happy always if we simply had each other?" 
 
 To which Kate answered, "I hope, dear, that we 
 always will have each other, no matter what else may 
 happen. " 
 
 "I don't believe," cried Sylvia, "that anything more 
 dreadful can happen than has already taken place. " 
 
 "Don't you?" asked Kate. "What do you think 
 Mrs. Heckshent is going to do? You see the way she 
 rides about the place day after day, and early this morn- 
 ing I thought surely she was coming in. She is simply 
 waiting to see what we are going to do about the mort- 
 gage, and as we are absolutely unable to do anything 
 about it she will be very apt to act upon the matter 
 herself in a very emphatic way. How I wish I could 
 sell part of it, but there isn't a person in all the world who 
 wants it. "
 
 THE DEVIL'S AND OTHER LINKS 303 
 
 " What are you going that way for ? " asked Sylvia. . 
 
 " I want to look at the graves. Come along it's only 
 a step." 
 
 They went through a dense tangle of wood and came 
 out upon the little plateau with the enclosure upon it 
 where John Burt and Kate had lingered on that memo- 
 rable day when Mr. Journingham arrived. The wild 
 grass and vines had grown to be very rank as the season 
 advanced, and they now almost obscured the graves. 
 The place seemed sadly neglected. The wild rose-bush 
 had shed many of its leaves and looked sparse and bare. 
 Sylvia thought Kate seemed singularly gloomy and 
 reticent. They sat down on a little heap of leaves near 
 by and together they gave way to the pensive associa- 
 tions that the little plot of ground awakened. 
 
 "There's no use talking," said Sylvia, "it may be a 
 blessing to have to give up this place sell it, or give it 
 to Mrs. Heckshent for it is surely taking all the spirit 
 out of you. It will kill you to linger around here among 
 all these associations. You are growing as morose as 
 can be, and I have not seen you smile once since Uncle 
 Caleb died." 
 
 "Don't you see," said Kate, "how necessary it is that 
 somebody should do something in our present circum- 
 stances ? Never at any time in our lives has the situa- 
 tion been so dire and black. Here we are, you and I, 
 sitting at the feet of these memorials and neither of us 
 can lift a hand or devise a way to preserve even them 
 from the disrupting hand of a stranger. Doesn't your 
 soul rise in arms when you think of an intruder ruthlessly 
 obliterating every sacred spot on the estate?" 
 
 "Nobody, of course, can have our feelings for this 
 particular spot," said Sylvia. "But our feelings will 
 not even keep the grass cut. Nature does her best to
 
 3 o 4 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 hide our neglect of it, covering it now with her autumn 
 leaves and presently with her snow. " 
 
 "Come away! Come away!" cried Kat r e, getting up 
 and putting her hand to her head. " I cannot stay here 
 another minute. Come down by the river. Perhaps 
 we can find some comfort there. I must not let my feel- 
 ings interfere with my desire to accomplish in some 
 honourable way the independence of this family. Think, 
 think, Sylvia. How are we to do it ? " 
 
 "You are really getting morbid, Kate," her sister 
 answered. " Everything returns to one point with you 
 you must have brooded over it until your head is turned. 
 I am not upbraiding you," she said with a suddenly 
 changed tone, as she saw the effect of her speech in Kate's 
 mobile face; "I feel like upbraiding myself for not having 
 detected it before. How I have neglected you ! But I 
 have had all sorts of schemes in my head about what we 
 could do. Let Mrs. Heckshent have the place 'and you 
 and I will go down to Baltimore. I'll cook and you can 
 teach music. That will be glorious. Do you know, this 
 is the first time since that Englishman came that I feel 
 we have really been companions. " 
 
 The delicate assumption of a superior condition in this 
 spontaneous outburst was not lost upon the elder sister 
 and she began to protest. 
 
 ''Your solicitousness is positively absurd," she said. 
 "I am not morbid. But I cannot help thinking of the 
 awful fate to which I summoned Mr. Journingham. 
 There never was a moment when I did not prefer your 
 companionship to any other. I think, my dear, I should 
 be content with it all my life. If I am at times a little 
 melancholy now, it is because events are so shaping 
 themselves as to deprive me of it. Oh, Sylvia, Sylvia, 
 what are we going to do ? It is only a question of time
 
 THE DEVIL'S AND OTHER LINKS 305 
 
 when Colonel John Bussey's daughters will find them- 
 selves out there upon the highway. It seems as though 
 destiny ought to have some other solution of our condi- 
 tion if I could only think it out. " 
 
 " Oh, dear ! " cried Sylvia, " I am tired of hearing about 
 events and destiny. Women seem to be the special 
 victims of these monsters. Men don't appear to be 
 crushed by them. Aunt Sussex forbade me to wish to be 
 a man, but she can't prevent me from wishing an able- 
 bodied man would come here again and turn events 
 upside down and reconstruct destiny with audacity. " 
 
 Sylvia's father had often said in her childhood days 
 that she was the only democrat in the family, and pre- 
 dicted that whoever married her would encounter some 
 of the sharp fragments of Plymouth Rock in her char- 
 acter. He must have said this because Sylvia oftener 
 disobeyed his wishes than her sister did; but still that 
 fact was a very poor indication of stony obduracy, seeing 
 that she always promptly melted afterward and was 
 forgiven, even as she now was by Kate, who put her hand 
 gently on her sister's arm and answered: 
 
 "How ridiculous you are, my dear. You make me 
 feel that I am a great deal more than two years older 
 than my sister, when I have to tell her that Destiny is 
 never successfully met by Defiance only by Obedience. 
 I have just been learning that lesson. If I had let 
 Destiny alone and had confided in her, Uncle Caleb 
 would have removed all our difficulties through the 
 instrumentality of Mr. John Burt. Now, please don't 
 go on any more in this strain. I wonder if we couldn't 
 cross the stream at the shallows instead of going all the 
 way to the bridge." 
 
 "We have crossed it many a time," said Sylvia, 
 "with our stockings hung over our shoulders, but I
 
 306 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 think it is shallow enough now in the autumn to pick 
 our way over on the stones." 
 
 In executing this little feat of crossing the 
 brook they both became girls for a few moments, 
 and then they went straight up the mule-path to 
 Unc'l Dan'l's and lit at his homely door like two 
 princesses in exile. 
 
 The old negro was sitting at his table with the old 
 Bible spread open in front of him. He was turning the 
 leaves and looking at them through a pair of round iron 
 spectacles over which his shaggy eyebrows hung like 
 little drifts of snow. He could not read a word, but he 
 knew pretty well where every favourite chapter was, 
 and he could put his finger on most of his favourite texts. 
 Some unknown apprehensive faculty seized upon the 
 page and print with sure recognition. The quickening 
 of his senses by affection at times gave him some kind 
 of clairvoyance. 
 
 "I knew you was comin', honey," he said to Kate, 
 "before yo' went off on yo' long journey." 
 
 "Why, Unc'l, I'm not going anywhere. The morning 
 was so beautiful we thought we would walk over to see 
 how you were." 
 
 Sylvia came in breezily and ran to him, seizing both 
 his hands and shaking them, till Kate, who saw him 
 wince, cried out: 
 
 "Don't you forget his rheumatism." 
 
 "Why, what a lovely view of the grove and fields you 
 get from this window now that some of the leaves are 
 off," said Sylvia, looking out. "Come here, Kate 
 the river looks like a silver serpent running through the 
 wood." 
 
 But Kate, whose mood was more reflective, said, as 
 she gazed at the fields: "It seems to express the spirit
 
 THE DEVIL'S AND OTHER LINKS 307 
 
 of that beautiful poem of Tennyson's you were reading 
 last night, dear: 
 
 ' Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean, 
 Tears from the depths of some divine despair, 
 Rise in the heart and gather to the eyes 
 In looking at the happy autumn fields 
 And thinking of the days that are no more.' " 
 
 Sylvia turned impatiently from the window, and 
 Unc'l Dan'l clung to her idea of the serpent with a per- 
 sistency that belongs to the aged. He began talking 
 with a manifest endeavour to give an air of importance 
 to his manner and speech. 
 
 "Come hyar, honey," he said to Kate; "I got some- 
 thin' on my min' I bin wantin' to tole yo' ever since de 
 old Jedge died. Yo' know, chile, away down Souf dere 
 is a sarpent she ain't silver and in plain sight like 
 Sylvia's but dey call her de diamon' rattler. Some 
 calls her de debil's link in de chain of natur'. She 
 comes a-crawlin' and a-crawlin' all de way round 
 mountains a-swimmin' de rivers and windin' frough 
 de counties. De farmer folk of Franklin think they dun 
 clared her out, but some day when de childer are playin' 
 roun' de doah, dare on a sudden on de doahstep rises 
 de sarpent wid her shiney head a-pointin' right at 'em. 
 Where de mos' innocence is, dare she comes and coils 
 herself up and lies a-waitin' till no one's expectin' of 
 her, and den she hits right out straight. Miss Kate, 
 dares a diamon' rattler in Franklin all ready to strike 
 yo' now. Keep a sharp watch out fer her risin' head 
 an' jump." 
 
 Kate looked significantly at Sylvia as a little tremour 
 ran through them both. She could frame no reply to 
 make to Unc'l Dan'l, and sat there staring at him won-
 
 3 o8 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 deringly. Sylvia was inclined to look upon the little 
 story as unimportant, for she had heard many of Unc'l 
 Dan'l's fabrications. He often created them to interest 
 her sister and herself, whom he never ceased to regard 
 as children. 
 
 Kate was uneasy and restless and could not content 
 herself long, so they left Unc'l Dan'l and sauntered home- 
 ward through the autumn noon, enjoying the beauty of 
 the way, and stopping to rest now and then as they 
 gathered great clusters of bright leaves. 
 
 "There is one thing that has been bothering me for 
 some time," said Sylvia, "and I believe it is worrying 
 you, too, so I'm going to run the risk of your displeasure 
 and unburden my mind. What do you suppose became 
 of John Burt?" 
 
 "Only one thing could become of him, dear. He 
 stays in the North Woods, as he is utterly disgusted with 
 Kate Bussey and leaves her to her fate, as she deserves. 
 More than that I do not know, but of that I am certain. 
 Oh, Sylvia, it looks as though all the good influences we 
 ever knew have been withdrawn from us. Can you see 
 from this distance who that is standing on the front 
 steps?" 
 
 "As I live," said Sylvia, "it is Mrs. Heckshent, and 
 her head is up ready to strike. I can see her beady 
 eye looking toward us. Unc'l Dan'l said we were to 
 jump." 
 
 Sylvia looked at her sister, who appeared as composed 
 as though no evil confronted her. At all moments of 
 crisis, Kate was calm. 
 
 "The only way to jump in this predicament, Sylvia, 
 is to meet our enemy with a club of toleration," she 
 answered, as she walked straight up the steps to Mrs. 
 Heckshent.
 
 THE DEVIL'S AND OTHER LINKS 309 
 
 Mrs. Heckshent took a step or two forward and thrust 
 a paper into Kate's hand. 
 
 "I 'lowed I could corner you better than a deputy 
 they're all so skittish o' ye. Them's your foreclosure 
 papers and good luck to you. I'll come around 
 to-morrer to see what you got to say about 'em." 
 
 "You can spare yourself that trouble, Mrs. Heckshent. 
 I think the law will allow me more than one day to con- 
 sider them, and you shall have your answer in due time." 
 
 Mrs. Heckshent threw her head into the air as she 
 retorted : 
 
 "Ye ain't satisfied with killing the Jedge and sendin' 
 Fol off to the ends of the earth, but ye must insult me to 
 my face and tell me not to trouble myself about comin' 
 inter a house that's my own by rights. We'll see about 
 that law or no law. I want to see if you understand 
 them papers. You won't ask me to have a chair, but 
 I'll stay just as long as I like." 
 
 Kate felt the ignominy of being obliged to come in 
 contact with such a nature, but as Mrs. Heckshent 
 settled herself in the only chair on the porch and flung 
 her hat on a little table near by as if she had come to 
 stay, the young women sank down upon the steps, Kate 
 still holding the paper in her hand and glancing signifi- 
 cantly at Sylvia. 
 
 A deep wonder filled them both that anything so 
 malignant could rise out of that glorified autumn noon 
 to assume such a menacing attitude. The indignity and 
 animosity of Mrs. Heckshent's bearing seemed an inex- 
 plicable mystery to them. They recognized the justice 
 of her claim but resented her manner of presenting it. 
 Kate was sensible of the futility of it all and sat there 
 quite listless. Sylvia drew the paper from the large 
 envelope in her sister's hand, and as she did so Mrs.
 
 3 io THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 Heckshent's vindictive eyes followed her and gloated with 
 satisfaction that at last, after years of waiting, her day 
 had come. There was no Judge to oppose her now, and 
 no overseer to delay justice. She was mistress of the 
 situation, and the two helpless women before her realized 
 that dire fact to the utmost. 
 
 Just at that moment there was a rustle behind them 
 and Aunt Sussex came from the hall closely followed by 
 a gentleman. So intent was Sylvia upon examining 
 the paper that she did not look round, and Kate con- 
 tinued to gaze steadily into the dreamy vista. 
 
 "What is the amount of the bond? Behold the sum 
 thrice told !" exclaimed a manly voice, and before Kate 
 and Sylvia could turn, some one with a quick, light 
 step had slipped down the steps and stood before them, 
 depositing a packet in the lap of each of them and making 
 a great bow and flourish. 
 
 They looked up in amazement to see Tony Brahm's 
 beaming face regarding them, as he urged Kate to open 
 her packet immediately. 
 
 "I have heard all the particulars from Aunt Sussex," 
 he said, "and believe I am to accomplish a rescue after 
 all. I wanted to be a Guardian Angel, but didn't antici- 
 pate such an opportunity as this." 
 
 Sylvia was on her feet, staring once more into the 
 dimples, and as she extended her hand Tony grasped it 
 with unusual vigour and felt a thrill of ecstacy as he 
 looked into the girl's eyes, so pure and radiant and 
 dancing with young, unsullied life. He had looked 
 into beautiful eyes before, but they had not the same 
 soft appeal. 
 
 Kate made no delay in doing as Tony bade her, and the 
 first things that fluttered from the packet were the 
 petals from the little faded bunch of rosebuds that John
 
 THE DEVIL'S AND OTHER LINKS 311 
 
 Burt had placed there. Her heart beat fast at sight of 
 them, and the next instant her gaze fell upon the check. 
 Ten thousand dollars ! It was a fortune to her fancy and 
 a release from all her troubles. She sprang up instantly 
 and grasped both of Tony Brahm's hands. Then she 
 flew into the hall and out again to the little table with 
 pen and ink. She brushed Mrs. Heckshent's hat away 
 with a sweep, and, seizing the pen, made the check 
 payable to Mrs. Caleb Heckshent, and, indorsing it, passed 
 it over to that personage with a superb air of imperious- 
 ness, saying: 
 
 "Mrs. Heckshent, there is a payment in part of the 
 indebtedness. I am negotiating with the Southern 
 Improvement Company of New York and will arrange 
 within thirty days to pay you the balance with interest 
 to date about six years' interest, I believe. You can 
 give me a receipt in full then." 
 
 Mrs. Heckshent had taken the check in astonishment 
 and was stooping to pick up her hat, when Sylvia, who 
 had been watching her sister with deep interest, could 
 contain herself no longer, and shouted : 
 
 "Behold the true mistress of Catalpa Grange !" and 
 made a dash to embrace Kate. Aunt Sussex did her 
 best to suppress and excuse this outburst, and in her 
 effort to restore equilibrium they lost sight of Mrs. 
 Heckshent. No one noticed when she went. She had 
 disappeared in a noiseless and mysterious manner, and 
 in speaking of it afterward Sylvia said she was now 
 convinced that Mrs. Heckshent really had some of the 
 occult qualities of a serpent. Presently Sylvia became 
 aware of her own little packet that she had forgotten 
 but had been unconsciously clutching while she was so 
 deeply absorbed in Kate's maneuvers. 
 
 "Shall I open it now?" she cried.
 
 3 i2 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 "Yes, by all means," said Kate. 
 
 She tore open the seal and disclosed a little box. This 
 she opened, and it contained another box. Box after 
 box appeared until finally a tiny one about an inch 
 square held the daintiest ring in the world. 
 
 Tony Brahm then approached her with Aunt Sussex 
 hanging to his arm, and said in an absurdly formal 
 manner: 
 
 "I have Miss Sussex Bussey's full permission to ask 
 Miss Sylvia Bussey to be my wife. I came down here 
 to attend a wedding, and as there is to be none I thought 
 I would get up one of my own if this little lady is 
 willing." 
 
 He made a low courtesy, and taking Sylvia's hand 
 gallantly between his own, he placed the ring upon her 
 finger. 
 
 That young lady stood in speechless astonishment and 
 looked very beautiful in her blushing amazement, as she 
 said: 
 
 "You fixed it all up between you, and never thought it 
 worth while to give me a chance to speak for myself 
 and I won't say a word now." Whereupon she burst 
 into hysterical tears and fled into the house. 
 
 And now some weeks of the most ideal weather 
 ensued, during which Aunt Sussex and Tony Brahm 
 had things all their own way indoors and the season 
 reigned in exquisite beauty out-of-doors. The Grange 
 came nearer to realizing a condition of perfection than 
 it ever had since the days of the Dame's regime. Tony 
 Brahm fitted easily into the aristocratic and peaceful 
 home atmosphere of the place and had an artless way 
 of putting every one at ease. Leesha and Pierson 
 never grew tired in his service, and Tony himself found a 
 hundred little kindnesses to perform that enabled the
 
 THE DEVIL'S AND OTHER LINKS 313 
 
 establishment to move noiselessly. On no account 
 would he allow any one to be put to any inconvenience 
 for him, and Sylvia could not help contrasting his genial, 
 lovable nature with that of the "Onus Probandi's." 
 
 There was much hustling and preparation on the part 
 of Sylvia and Aunt Sussex, but they insisted that Kate 
 should take absolute rest. 
 
 "You are the true Princess, you know, dear, and have 
 brought about all this happy condition of affairs," said 
 Sylvia. "But even Princesses cannot work and devise 
 for other people all the time. You look so flaccid and 
 weary, now that the awful tension of years is removed, 
 that I want you to just stop thinking for a year. So, 
 go right along up to your room and leave Aunty and me 
 to manage things. I want you to be well and cheerful 
 for my wedding next week." 
 
 Kate drew her sister's face down between her hands 
 and kissed her. "You do look so happy, Syl, " she said; 
 "and to think we are to be parted, after all. It seems 
 only yesterday you were saying we could be perfectly 
 happy always if we simply had each other. " 
 
 " Oh, but we will always have each other, " said Sylvia. 
 "We are not to be parted. Tony says so and that is 
 just the difference between Mr. Tony Brahm and the 
 'Onus Probandi.'" But as she saw the little expression 
 of pain flit across her sister's face at the mention of that 
 name, she cried: "Forgive me, dear; I'm so happy I 
 don't know what I am saying, for I've got so much to 
 tell you about our plans. We are to go to Cuba on our 
 wedding trip and you and Aunty are to go along. Then 
 when you get rested down there you can come back in 
 the spring and see to the burning of your stumps and 
 things." 
 
 As Kate was about to raise a protest she exclaimed:
 
 3 i4 THE CONQUERING OF KATE 
 
 " I don't want to hear one word against it. Tony says 
 you need a sea voyage to settle your nerves and you are 
 to have it so there, now ! " 
 
 "I should like to know what Tony knows about my 
 nerves," said Kate, laughing in spite of herself, but 
 Sylvia was out of the room before she could finish the 
 sentence. 
 
 After this announcement Tony beguiled the entire 
 household with all sorts of fairy stories about Cuba that 
 fitted delightfully into the dreaminess of the hours. 
 His cheery optimism soothed them all and coloured the 
 everyday occurrences of their uneventful life with a rosy 
 hue. Even Kate sank into a sweet forgetfulness and 
 drifted with the course of things, giving no thought to 
 the future and adapting herself entirely to the arrange- 
 ments of others. She wondered in a dreamy way that 
 no reply came to her little letter of thanks she had sent 
 to the Southern Improvement Company for John Burt, 
 and spoke of it to Sylvia. But that busy young woman 
 replied : 
 
 " I have asked Tony about him several times, and all 
 he says is that John Burt has wood-pulp on the brain 
 and is buried in the pine woods. That's just what you 
 said yourself, dear, isn't it?" 
 
 In the nature of things and in accordance with the 
 active plans of Mr. Tony Brahm, this indolent existence 
 was destined to come to a speedy close. After much 
 anticipation and preparation the day of the journey 
 arrived, and on a blustering morning early in November 
 Kate and Aunt Sussex found themselves escorted to 
 New York by the beamiest couple in the world, to take 
 the steamer for Cuba. There was not a hitch in the 
 arrangements, for all difficulties melted like magic before 
 Tony's thoughtful supervision, until he launched his
 
 THE DEVIL'S AND OTHER LINKS 315 
 
 little party on the ocean for Cuba. When the vessel was 
 well under way, and they were all nicely settled on board 
 ship, Tony and Sylvia missed Kate from the group. 
 They found that young woman sitting on deck snugly 
 wrapped in her steamer blanket, oblivious to all the 
 world and buried in her own fancies. 
 
 "You appear to be awfully lonely, dear," said Sylvia, 
 as they approached her. 
 
 "Then appearances belie me," said Kate, "for I was 
 enjoying the motion of the vessel and thinking how 
 serenely happy one can be on the water. That senti- 
 ment of Read's about the ship rings in my head and 
 seems so apropos at this moment. I have been hum- 
 ming it. Do you want to hear it?" 
 
 "Oh, wait," said Sylvia, "till I tell you some news. 
 You can sing with some feeling after you have heard it. 
 Tony has just received a letter from John Burt and he 
 isn't in the North Woods at all. He is just in Cuba. We 
 never could have coaxed you to go if you had known it, 
 could we ? Now I- know you feel more like singing. Go 
 on with your song. " 
 
 Kate made no reply, but, turning her head away, 
 softly crooned: 
 
 " O, happy ship, 
 To rise and dip 
 
 With the blue crystal at your lip. 
 O, happy crew 
 My heart with you, 
 Sails and sails and sings anew."
 
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