OCSB LIBRARY
 
 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 A NOVEL 
 
 BY 
 
 MARGARET E. SANGSTER 
 
 / Ct 
 
 / 7 - 
 
 Santa Barbara, California 
 
 GROSSET & DUNLAP 
 
 PUBLISHERS - NEW YORK
 
 Copyright 1903 by 
 FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY 
 
 Margaret E. Sangsters Works 
 
 A TRIO OF GIFT BOOKS 
 
 The Queenly Mother 
 In the Realm of Home. 
 Illustrated by Griselda Marshall McClure. 
 Handsomely Decorated, Cloth, - net 1.50. 
 
 Fairest Girlhood 
 
 Illustrated by Character Studies by Griselda 
 Marshall McClure. Handsomely Decorated. 
 Cloth, ...... net 1.50. 
 
 Winsome Womanhood 
 Familiar Talks on Life and Conduct. 
 Gift Edition with Illustrations in Sepia by 
 W. B. Dyer. Decorated, Boxed, net 2.50. 
 Popular Edition, Gilt Top, Cloth, - 1.25. 
 White Vellum, - - _ - - net 1.50. 
 
 Lyrics of Love 
 
 Of Hearth #Home, & Field & Garden. 
 Pages printed in two colors. Decorated 
 Cloth, ...... net 1.00 
 
 That Siueet Story of Old 
 
 LifeofChrist LfoteXiUPS People. 
 
 Cloth" - - 1-25. 
 
 Decorated Boards, Gilt Top, - net 1.00. 
 
 Eleanor Lee 
 
 A Story of Married Life. Cloth, 1.50. 
 
 Janet Ward 
 
 A Daughter of the Manse. Cloth, 1.50.
 
 This book is inscribed 
 with tove 
 
 to 
 CLARA de FOREST BURRELL
 
 FOREWORD 
 
 AS we walk the world s highway we meet and 
 pass many whom we would love if we knew 
 them, but whose paths diverge from ours. 
 Every life has its message of helpfulness for every 
 other, if there were time to stop and become ac 
 quainted. Few lives are without their hidden sor 
 rows, and no joy is ever complete that has not been 
 somewhere touched by pain. 
 
 In writing the story of Eleanor Lee, I have shown 
 a woman true in the stress of trying circumstances 
 to an old-fashioned ideal, a woman whom adversity 
 did not embitter, and whose fidelity did not waver 
 under any temptation. When womanhood is at 
 once sweet and steadfast, it attains a high nobility, 
 and this I have tried to illustrate in the every-day life 
 of an every-day heroine. 
 
 MARGARET E. SANGSTER.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 I. A Bolt from the Blue . . . 1 1 
 
 //. The Suit of Donald Waugb . . .25 
 
 ///. When Half Gods Go . . . .33 
 
 // . Waiting Days ..... 44 
 
 I . When Souls were Tried . . -53 
 
 1. The First Shadow 60 
 
 VII. For Better, For Worse .... 69 
 
 nil Day by Day 78 
 
 IX. Some of the Neighbors . . . .87 
 
 X. Aunt Polly s Morals . . . 97 
 XL Kathleen . . . . . .103 
 
 XII. A Letter no 
 
 XIII. God s Way 117 
 
 XIV. A Vanished Hope . . . .127 
 
 XV. Unexpected Guests . . . .134 
 
 XVI. A Man in the House . . . .140 
 
 II 11. An Evening Call . . . .148 
 
 II 111. A Tiny Cloud 157 
 
 XIX. Do Duties Conflict? . . . .164 
 
 XX. Donald Interferes . . . .174
 
 10 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 XX 7. A Hall of Rest . .180 
 
 XXII. Sister Rachel . . . .190 
 
 XXII I. A Fright 196 
 
 XXIV. Friends Together . . . .202 
 
 XXV. Problems 214 
 
 XXVI. An Obstacle or Two . . .226 
 
 XXVII. The Burden of Wealth . . . 233 
 
 XXVIII. Losing His Grip .... 240 
 
 XXIX. In the Rose Garden Again . . 248 
 
 XXX. Trouble That Was Not Foreseen . 254 
 
 XXXI. Thy Gold to Refine . . .260 
 
 XXXII. The Packet Kathleen Found . . 266 
 
 XXXIII. Under the Shoulder of the Hill . 272 
 
 XXXIV. A Homesick Heart . . .278 
 
 XXXV. What Eleanor Said . . .283 
 
 XXXVI. Irene s Discovery .... 289 
 XXXVIL Harrys New Role . , . 297 
 
 XXXVIII. Visitors and Premonitions . . 305 
 
 XXXIX. Fulfillments 314
 
 Eleanor Lee 
 
 A BOLT FROM THE BLUE 
 
 THE sunshine of an October day lay soft upon 
 the little village, and the air had the crisp 
 edge that comes with red and yellow leaves. 
 Hills and dales were veiled in the opaline haze of 
 autumn. Eleanor Lee had been dusting the books in 
 the library, a long and tedious piece of work, but it 
 had to be done and she did not mind. She would 
 have finished the task much sooner if she had not so 
 often yielded to the temptation to peep into favorite 
 volumes, and read page after page, now from a for 
 gotten book on the top shelf, again from an old 
 medical work, or perhaps from one of her father s 
 law reports. Judge Lee s library was delightful but 
 miscellaneous, rich in standard authors, thinly pro 
 vided with current literature, though there were in it 
 some volumes of Jane Austen, Charlotte Bronte, 
 Thackeray and Dickens. Eleanor was a born reader, 
 and everything in print attracted her, from the ad 
 vertisements in the newspapers to the brown and 
 dingy sermons which were a family legacy from her 
 grandfather, the Rev. Mather Jenks, who had minis- 
 
 ii
 
 12 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 tered to one parish forty years. It was her privilege 
 to take care of the library, and its semi-annual dust 
 ing always took place when her father was absent on 
 circuit duty. Naturally, he could not be interrupted 
 when at home. Mrs. Lee, whose housekeeping was 
 of the comfortable variety that does not insist on too 
 much cleaning, had an impression that Eleanor was 
 over-fastidious, an inheritance from generations of 
 scrupulously neat housewives in the past. But, 
 probably if Eleanor had been less careful, her mother 
 would have been more so. On this day, she had 
 been more than usually thorough, and she surveyed 
 the shining shelves and the beautiful and stately room 
 with peculiar satisfaction as she finished. Mother 
 would be pleased when she came from town, and 
 father, on his return, delighted. He would call her 
 his darling little girl, in that tone which was as sweet 
 in her ears as a caress. 
 
 Eleanor went to the garden and cut late roses and 
 chrysanthemums with great bunches of fragrant 
 lemon verbena, and filled the vases in the drawing- 
 room and library. She gathered an immense handful 
 of cosmos, and put it in a silver pitcher in the hall. 
 A little lingering honeysuckle made a bouquet for her 
 father s desk. Kathleen, her sister, passing through 
 the house with her school-books, exclaimed at the 
 beauty of the flowers, from the top of the stairs, 
 " Hurry and get dressed, Eleanor. Father is coming 
 home to-night, and you ve made the house look fit 
 for a wedding. He ll be charmed! " 
 
 " 1 know it," she answered, flying up two steps at 
 a time, catching Kathleen around the waist, and 
 whirling with her giddily to the door of their cham-
 
 A BOLT FROM THE BLUE 13 
 
 her, where both girls sank, laughing and panting, on 
 a broad divan. It was almost four o clock. The 
 canary in its cage was singing like mad, and Eleanor 
 listened with an answering joy. She was very 
 happy with the pure untroubled ecstasy that belongs 
 to girlhood when one is well and strong and glad to 
 be alive, and no angel of unrest has yet stirred the 
 waters of the heart. 
 
 Presently she dressed herself for the afternoon. 
 Tall, slender, graceful, her figure not yet rounded, for 
 she was just past eighteen, with dark, dreamy eyes, 
 and a mass of wavy brown hair that made a crown 
 for her head, and was her torment because there was 
 too much of it for the Greek knot she adored, the 
 girl merited the pet name of Princess, which was her 
 father s favorite appellation for his elder daughter. 
 She slipped on a gown of clinging white wool, with 
 a girdle of yellow silk, and without a glance at its 
 effect, for she had no vanity, passed down to the 
 library again to read and rest and watch for her 
 mother s return. 
 
 The clock in the hall, an old, old clock that had 
 come from across the sea, and ticked away the years 
 of six generations of the Lees, struck four. Above 
 stairs the canary sang his very heart away, and Kath 
 leen at the second-best piano was drumming over 
 her exercises. Otherwise, house, and garden, and 
 street, were very still, so still that Eleanor heard the 
 steadily approaching footsteps of a man who must 
 have arrived by the four o clock train. Few men 
 came in by that. Islington was a deserted village so 
 far as masculine humanity was in concern, until the 
 six o clock express brought husbands and fathers
 
 14 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 back from business every night. During the day it 
 was a New England Cranford. 
 
 She raised her eyes, and saw a stranger coming up 
 the avenue between the yellowing maples straight to 
 the door. Eleanor observed that he walked with in 
 tention and swiftly as one who brought tidings. Yet 
 he stayed his foot at the porch, as one who hesitated 
 to tell his errand. A client of her father s, perhaps, 
 or a gentleman who had met the Judge abroad, 
 where he had been last summer. The man advanced 
 and rang the bell. 
 
 "Is Mrs. Lee at home?" she heard him ask, in a 
 low voice, and the maid answered with the hospitable 
 manner of the gracious household. 
 
 "No, sir, she s in town, but Miss Eleanor s in the 
 library. Please walk in." 
 
 Eleanor was accustomed to receive people who 
 called on her parents. She had often played the 
 hostess when her mother was ill or absent, and she 
 had no timidity, yet something chilled her as she met 
 the stranger s grave, set face, and saw the pallor of 
 his compressed lips. She motioned him to a seat, 
 but he remained standing until she resumed her chair. 
 He had the effect of wishing to speak, but not know 
 ing how to begin. A bearer of unwelcome news, he 
 paused on the threshold, gazing at the radiant vision 
 before him, feeling deep compunction that he must 
 presently dim it with tears. 
 
 Is bad news ever broken gently ? Is it ever worth 
 while even to attempt to soften the force of a blow 
 that must crush joy as a rough hand crushes a butter 
 fly ? One might as well accept the inevitable. If 
 misfortune arrive, it must be met with what courage
 
 A BOLT FROM THE BLUE 15 
 
 one can summon. Calamity is never other than 
 devastation. A shock is like a whirlwind or a cy 
 clone; it blots the world, and for a time drives the 
 planets from their orbits. We stand bewildered 
 among the ruins of the accustomed and the pleasant. 
 To most gladness in this earth of ours there come 
 pauses when we forget that we were ever happy. 
 And no amount of preparation can change the order 
 of nature, or make the rough places plain, or soothe 
 at once the ache of that ploughshare of suffering, 
 that as Lowell tersely says, tears its way down to our 
 primitive rock. 
 
 "Mrs. Lee is not at home?" said the man, ten 
 tatively, longing to gain time. It was not easy to 
 dash the light from the face of this girl in white. 
 The man had a little child of his own at home, dark- 
 eyed and sweet. She might grow up as fair as this 
 bonny maiden. 
 
 "Mother is in town," answered Eleanor. "lam 
 expecting her very soon. If you wish to see her, I 
 hope you can wait. It is pleasant in this sunny 
 corner, and here are the magazines." She rose. 
 
 "Pray remain seated. You are Judge Lee s elder 
 daughter, I presume. I have heard your father speak 
 of you." 
 
 Eleanor smiled. Her father was noted for speak 
 ing of his children in the world beyond the cottage 
 doors. Yet she thought it singular that the man did 
 not state his errand, and she drew herself up with a 
 little air of dignity, waiting to hear what it might be. 
 
 Your father has been some days away, I believe ? " 
 
 "Yes," Eleanor acquiesced, aware of something to 
 come.
 
 16 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 "I hardly know how to tell you, Miss Lee, but it 
 must be told. Your father was taken ill this morning 
 at Aldis, whence I have come, fifty miles from here. 
 He was at the inn on his way home. He has been 
 very ill indeed." 
 
 Eleanor rose again from her chair, clasping her 
 hands piteously, alarmed at once. 
 
 "Oh, why are you so slow, why did not some 
 one telegraph ? I am wasting time," she exclaimed. 
 " I must go to my father." 
 
 " Calm yourself, Miss Lee, I beg," said the stranger. 
 "Your father is coming to you. The fact is," he 
 halted and went on, "that Judge Lee passed away 
 without a struggle at Aldis to-day: he is at rest. I 
 brought the word to the office, and then I came to 
 tell you, and to see if I could be of service. No one 
 else would come." He paused and added, "The 
 body will be with you this evening." 
 
 Eleanor sat as if frozen, hardly comprehending, 
 pallid, in a dazed silence. Presently, the visitor, 
 satisfied that he could do nothing more, turned to go. 
 At the outer door he stopped and rang the bell. 
 When the maid answered it he said, "You would 
 better see to Miss Lee. I am afraid she will faint." 
 Then he left, taking the vision of her stricken figure 
 with him. He had done a hard day s work. 
 
 Norah found Eleanor sitting as if turned to stone. 
 She roused herself a half hour later when her mother 
 came rustling in, full of her happy day, her light 
 laugh making its musical sound as she swept into the 
 flower-dressed room. 
 
 "Why, Eleanor, my darling, what has come to 
 you ? You are not ill, surely ? Why Eleanor! "
 
 A BOLT FROM THE BLUE 17 
 
 "Oh, mother! mother!" cried the girl, throwing 
 herself into her mother s arms. "Father is dead. 
 They are bringing him home. Father died at Aldis 
 this morning!" 
 
 It was a bolt from the blue. The next few days 
 were graven on Eleanor s memory as by the point of 
 a diamond. She never forgot them. And to the 
 end of her life, she loathed a certain poetic phrase 
 repeated three days later by a man who stood beside 
 her father s coffin, and tried in clumsy fashion to be 
 a comforter. He was a pompous, blundering fellow, 
 with red hair, large hands, and a good heart. 
 
 "Eleanor, you ll get over this after a while. You 
 think you won t, but everybody does. Time blunts 
 the feeling. He tempers the wind to the shorn Iamb. 
 God, you know, Eleanor." 
 
 "Oh, Donald, don t," she exclaimed, but he en 
 joyed the flow of his own eloquence, and floun 
 dered on. She stood on the opposite side of the 
 coffin, rebellious against consolation at all, most of 
 all from this source. Her heart was beating like a 
 captive in a cage. She despised words that sounded 
 in her ears both perfunctory and oratorical. But she 
 controlled her expression, and made no further sign 
 of impatience. What good would it do? The 
 monotonous, rather rasping voice prosed on. Behind 
 that rigidly restrained look of hers, different emotions 
 were in conflict, chief among them, notwithstanding 
 her rebellion, a feeling of amusement. How her 
 father would have appreciated the situation, with his 
 keen sense of humor and his love of fun. Judge Lee 
 had been a man of infinite tenderness, and of infinite 
 drollery, and his daughter knew just how he would
 
 1 8 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 have kindly tolerated the platitudes of Donald 
 Waugh. At last Mr. Waugh tore himself away, first 
 holding her limp, unresponsive hand in a close clasp, 
 the lingering pressure of which she endured just as 
 she had endured the personal attentions he had been 
 offering her for a twelvemonth. "Eleanor s tame 
 bear," the Judge had called him, sympathizing with 
 her when the poor fellow stepped on and tore her 
 first beloved trained dress, and sympathizing with 
 him when the little lady scorned him day by day. 
 But Donald came of sturdy Scotch-Irish stock and 
 was not easily daunted. Eleanor s indifference stim 
 ulated his ardor, and he had too good an opinion of 
 himself to realize that hers was unflattering. 
 
 Donald was not the only visitor in these days of 
 darkness. Friends came and went all day long dur 
 ing the interval between the Judge s death and the 
 funeral. Eleanor received every one, took charge of 
 the house and the kindred, made herself a guard for 
 her mother, and put her grief resolutely in the back 
 ground. She hardly shed a tear, but her whole being 
 ached in the revolt of her suffering. Kathleen would 
 huddle, a heap of misery, in the corner of the sofa, 
 and cry till her eyes were red and she had no more 
 tears left. Mrs. Lee remained in her own room, leav 
 ing it only to shut the door now and then, and turn 
 the key of the drawing-room, and stand beside the 
 dead. She was passive and silent, asserting herself 
 only when her brother and the minister urged her 
 not to go to the grave. 
 
 "Dear Mrs. Lee," said the pastor, "you will only 
 be utterly wearied. Be persuaded and stay here 
 after the service."
 
 A BOLT FROM THE BLUE 19 
 
 "Sister, 1 wish you would," added her brother 
 gently and pleadingly. 
 
 She smiled a wan smile. "And let you all take 
 John up there on the hill without me. No, the girls 
 and I will go. He would have gone with us," she 
 said firmly. "It is the last thing I can ever do for 
 John." 
 
 When they returned from the cemetery Mrs. Lee 
 was calm and brave. After a day or two, the guests 
 one by one melted away, and soon the succession of 
 friends and acquaintances who brought their condo 
 lence, ceased to call. Judge Lee was no more ; and 
 in the court room and community, another reigned in 
 his stead. The widow and the two girls took up 
 their lonely life in the house that so missed the pres 
 ence of the bluff, courtly, genial man, the home that 
 was lost without his ringing voice, his cordial cheer, 
 his bonhomie, his constant affection. Hard work it 
 was to grow used to the gap, but it had to be done. 
 Mrs. Lee refused to make the house sombre. As 
 winter drew on, the blinds were never lowered, and 
 Kathleen s piano was heard as usual. Sometimes 
 Eleanor threw a cloth over the canary s cage, but her 
 mother said, "Try to bear it, dearest. Your father 
 loved song and sunshine. He would not like us 
 to mope and mourn. He said to me years ago, 
 Whichever of us may go first, the one who remains 
 must not show the white feather. And darling, 
 he s just as much alive as ever, only out of our sight, 
 you know. So let the bird sing." 
 
 But Eleanor knew that her mother wept in the 
 night. Poor Mrs. Lee grew thin that winter, and 
 looked older, and would not crimp her hair, or
 
 20 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 suffer any relief to the blackness of her widow s 
 dress. 
 
 Eleanor had not liked mourning, and had said in the 
 old days before death marched over the doorsill and 
 routed her theories that she would never wear it. 
 But her mother was decided on this point, and set 
 tled the matter without controversy. 
 
 " What! not wear black for your father, my dear! 
 Say no more about it. We must wear it, to show 
 our respect, and for our protection. You and Kath 
 leen for a year or two; I, forever. I shall never 
 change back to colors." 
 
 And she never did. Through a long life of wid 
 owhood she wore only black. 
 
 All this story happened a good many years ago, 
 and Eleanor and Kathleen were young girls in the 
 years that preceded the Civil War. They lived 
 through the stir and stress and tumult of that event 
 ful period which made the land red with the blood 
 of the slain, and was fervid with the tense passion 
 of brothers in battle array. That time was not 
 yet. Faint rumblings of the coming storm were 
 heard, but few noticed them, and there were bliss 
 and bane, buying and selling, marrying and giving 
 in marriage, just as if nothing beyond the common 
 place were likely to occur. Eleanor observed an 
 unusual exaltation about her mother, one morning 
 nearly a year after the Judge s death. She hovered 
 near her, solicitous, yet did not intrude on her mood 
 by questions. Quietly she brought her sewing and 
 sat near Mrs. Lee; pushed a hassock under her feet, 
 and a cushion against her back. Kathleen, in the 
 drawing-room, was playing softly. The others were
 
 A BOLT: FROM THE BLUE 21 
 
 in the library. A large photograph of the Judge was 
 on an easel opposite Mrs. Lee s favorite chair. Fresh 
 flowers were always kept before it, as if it were a 
 shrine. 
 
 "Eleanor," said the mother, "I am leading the 
 most curious double life: do you know that I dream 
 of your father nearly every night, and sometimes I 
 see him when I am wide awake?" 
 
 "Oh, mother!" 
 
 " Yes, indeed, and it is the greatest delight. I used 
 to wet my pillow every night before I slept, with 
 tears that would not stop, but not now. For John 
 has told me not to." 
 
 Eleanor began to fear that her mother was growing 
 insane. But she had grace given her to keep silent 
 and listen. All her life she was to be a good listener, 
 and people would love her for it in the years to 
 come. 
 
 "I was sitting in my own room yesterday, very, 
 very sad, when suddenly I felt myself not alone. I 
 looked up, and there was John, in that old blue coat 
 he used to wear on our tramps in the woods. He 
 looked as he did the year you were born: you never 
 saw him when he was so young and handsome, but 
 I have always kept that memory of him in my heart. 
 Well, he sat down by me, and looked right into my 
 eyes, and said, Alice, sweetheart! " 
 
 "Yes, I can hear him," said Eleanor. 
 
 " Alice, you have grieved enough. You are com 
 ing to me when you are not needed here but the 
 house is too sad. You are too sad. You must have 
 it as you used to. You and I are not far apart. You 
 have Eleanor and Kathleen you three are together.
 
 22 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 I am waiting for you. Be strong and of good 
 courage. Then he was gone, but where he had 
 been sitting a shaft of evening light lay golden on 
 the chair." 
 
 No doubt this experience was a beautiful dream. 
 Eleanor thought so, but she was thankful that her 
 mother grew happier. 
 
 As they were talking, a tap came at the door, and 
 with the privileged freedom of a family friend, 
 Donald Waugh walked in. 
 
 " I came to inquire if I might escort Eleanor to the 
 concert to-morrow night," he asked. 
 
 Eleanor frowned and shook her head. She hated 
 to be monopolized by Mr. Waugh, and yet she was 
 unable to shake him off. Before she could speak, 
 her mother answered for her. 
 
 "You are very good, indeed, Donald. Kathleen 
 and I will go too. I will procure the tickets. You 
 may escort the family." 
 
 This was not according to Mr. Waugh s pro 
 gramme. In those days, chaperones were almost 
 unheard of, and a man took the girl he admired all 
 by herself to evening entertainments, and sometimes 
 to a little supper afterwards. Eleanor, however, had 
 never yet gone out alone with any man except her 
 father. It was a relief to her that the old order was 
 not to be changed. Donald, with what politeness he 
 could muster, marched heavily off. 
 
 "Thank you, mother, for not asking him to sup 
 per," said Eleanor. " He is horrid." 
 
 "Child," said her mother, "don t call him horrid. 
 The man is in love with you."
 
 THE SUIT OF DONALD WAUGH 
 
 TO-MORROW night came and Donald Waugh 
 presented himself in good season, on the 
 stroke of eight, with a carnage. He was in 
 evening dress and had a white carnation in his button 
 hole. 
 
 Mrs. Lee exclaimed at the carriage. The evening 
 was fine, the distance short, and people in that 
 neighborhood took carriages only when it rained. It 
 seemed absurd to drive just around a corner or two. 
 
 "This is extravagance, Donald. We are in the 
 habit of walking; it looks foolish, doesn t it?" she 
 remonstrated. 
 
 " Oh, for once, let us be luxurious," he said. " I m 
 glad you are going, Mrs. Lee. You have been stay 
 ing so much at home this while past." 
 
 " Yes, indeed, but now I shall try to go everywhere 
 with the children," she answered. "Isn t Eleanor 
 coming, Kathleen ? I thought she was ready." 
 
 " In a minute, mother," called Eleanor and pres 
 ently she descended the wide staircase, a straight 
 slender girl, in a gown of some thin stuff that trailed 
 behind her. A big feather fan was in her hand. She 
 had delayed a moment to discard the bunch of white 
 carnations she had thrust into her belt and restore 
 them to a glass of water on her bureau. Having 
 caught a glimpse of Mr. Waugh s flower she did not 
 
 2 3
 
 24 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 wish to match it. Kathleen softly clapped her hands, 
 as she watched Eleanor coming down with the air of 
 a princess in a procession, though she was all alone. 
 
 Eleanor needed no color to set off her black gown 
 beyond the rich rose red in her cheeks. She was 
 beautiful in the rare loveliness of her years, with a 
 promise of greater beauty when she should be older. 
 Her mother regarded her with complacency. Women 
 take very great satisfaction in the beauty of women; 
 it is a pleasure partially artistic, and to some ex 
 tent partisan, as if the comeliness of the individual 
 belonged to the entire sex. A mother, too, sees in 
 her fair young daughter, the revival of her own 
 youth. A mother s pride in a fair daughter is in 
 evitable. 
 
 Donald beamed as he followed the ladies to re 
 served seats in the Assembly Room of Islington 
 where concerts and lectures were given. All the 
 dwellers in the little borough were there, and every 
 one was glad to see Mrs. Lee and the girls emerging 
 from their seclusion. The young man with them 
 was aggressive by nature and something of a mas 
 tiff s resolution was shown in the set of his strong 
 jaw. He was clean-shaven which was not the fash 
 ion then, and he had a heavily moulded, ugly, but 
 honest and intelligent face, with a shock of red hair. 
 Eleanor would have thought him the homeliest man 
 of her acquaintance, if she had not been so accus 
 tomed to seeing him for years, that he made no more 
 impression on her than his collie, Laird, or the furni 
 ture in the office. Though a business man, he had 
 taken a course of law with her father, and his com 
 ings and goings had been as those of a member of
 
 SUIT OF DONALD WAUGH 25 
 
 the family. Lately Donald had bored her, and she 
 declared to Kathleen that he was a prig and perfectly 
 insufferable. Poor Donald. He had not the ghost of 
 an idea why it was that Eleanor whom he thought 
 so perfect had thus far taken pains to repel him, and 
 been as elusive as a will-o -the-wisp. It had piqued 
 his vanity and increased his ardor. He had now ar 
 rived at the time when he intended to make an end 
 of indecision. 
 
 That very morning, the maiden sister who kept 
 house for him, in the old mansion where both had 
 grown up, had ventured to inquire why he had pur 
 chased a building site in a part of the village, some 
 miles away. She had noticed that he was often 
 poring over the plans of architects and that he took a 
 new interest in furniture and draperies, and pottered 
 about asking questions about interiors. Miss Rachel 
 recognized the symptoms as indicative of an inten 
 tion to break away from the bachelor estate, and she 
 was sorry. She preferred to keep Donald to herself, 
 as only sisters often do with brothers. 
 
 In reply to the question which was casually put as 
 she passed his cup and saucer, her brother answered, 
 "Islington is bound to grow, Rachel, and one of 
 these days it will have a park and a boulevard, and a 
 graded avenue straight to the ocean. I bought that 
 land partly as an investment, but really with a view 
 to building a home. When I marry, I shall want a 
 new home for my wife. This house must always 
 belong to you. I know what associations it has for 
 us, but my wife might think it old-fashioned." 
 
 "You speak of your wife as if you had already 
 selected the lady. Who is she?" For the life of
 
 26 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 her, Rachel could not help shutting her lips tightly 
 and looking with a certain disapproval at her brother. 
 He took no notice. An elation, rising like the sun in 
 the morning, spread from his strong chin to his 
 broad brow; he looked as if he already grasped good 
 fortune. 
 
 "Eleanor Lee is the lady, but I haven t asked her 
 yet. That is a mere form to be gone through how 
 ever." 
 
 "Oh, Donald, Donald, why not the moon? Elea 
 nor thinks you are middle-aged." 
 
 "I am barely thirty," he said with much offense in 
 his tone. 
 
 "That is old in the eyes of nineteen. 1 know her 
 age. I remember when she was born. Why, my 
 dear, Eleanor Lee is not much more than a school 
 girl. She is really not yet in society." 
 
 "Her father s death postponed her coming out, 
 but that doesn t count. I would rather have a wife 
 younger than myself, one whom I may mould and 
 impress with my own opinions. Now, Rachel, don t 
 set yourself against me. I thought you were so fond 
 of the Lees." 
 
 "I am, and especially of Eleanor, but Donald, she 
 will make you miserable if you marry her, though 1 
 don t think you will gain her consent. No two peo 
 ple were ever more unsuited by training and tempera 
 ment than you and she. Don t I know ? Why Elea 
 nor has been in my Bible class for the last six years. 
 Why don t you court Mattie Dunmore ? " 
 
 " I don t flatter myself that Mattie would have me, 
 and I am certain that I don t want Mattie. Princess 
 Eleanor is the wife I want. I ve meant to win her
 
 SUIT OF DONALD WAUGH 27 
 
 ever since she was a child in short frocks. She s 
 most unusual in the quality of her mind." 
 
 Rachel sighed. She said no more. From long ex 
 perience she knew the futility of argument with 
 Donald. When he had made up his mind, he 
 wouldn t change. It was could not rather than 
 would not, and he was never influenced by sugges 
 tions from the other side, or open to advice. The 
 men of her family were like that, indomitable, loyal, 
 straightforward, clean, but narrow, prejudiced and 
 contrary, not easy to live with, though fancying them 
 selves so. Their ideal was the submissive woman, 
 the woman who yields. Rachel knew that Eleanor 
 Lee would not mature into that sort of woman. 
 
 Donald was disturbed. He divined Rachel s atti 
 tude and understood that it was as fixed as his own. 
 The Waughs were alike. She was both sister and 
 mother to the man, for their mother had died when 
 he was an infant. He preferred her to be pleased. 
 What he did not guage, for he had no plummet 
 to fathom it, was the depth of his incapacity to see 
 any side of a proposition except the one that for him 
 embodied the personal equation. 
 
 " You might wish me luck, Rachel," he said, rising 
 from the table. 
 
 "I do, Donald, and with all my heart," she an 
 swered, but as she left the room, she added to 
 herself, "It will do you no good." Nor was she 
 very sorry. In her view a passing pang, though 
 acute, was less to be dreaded than the lifelong 
 wretchedness of incompatibility. 
 
 Miss Rachel went to inspect her kitchen and re 
 frigerator and talk with her cook. Donald proceeded
 
 28 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 to his woollen mills. He was the owner of a large 
 business and had many interests. Outside Islington 
 he was spoken of as a man likely to rise. 
 
 "I ll have the oversight of Donald for some time 
 yet," said Miss Rachel to herself that afternoon, as 
 she went to his room and laid out the dress-suit, the 
 shirt with the gold studs, and the rest of his evening 
 toilette. When he sallied forth resplendent the plain 
 little old maid sister in the background had con 
 tributed her share to his glory. He took her con 
 tinual attention to his comfort as he took the atmos 
 phere: he had never done without it, and it did not 
 occur to him to be in the least thankful. 
 
 Donald went home with the Lees after the concert, 
 and they had a little feast of hot oysters and coffee 
 in the dining-room. Then Kathleen went to bed and 
 before long her mother followed her. Donald gave 
 no sign of immediate departure, and Eleanor who 
 was at the piano, playing in a reminiscent style, some 
 of the tunes of the evening, made a little gesture of 
 appeal as her mother passed her. But Mrs. Lee was 
 too weary to sit up longer. This first plunge into 
 anything more social than the prayer-meeting had 
 been something of a trial. 
 
 Donald stood in front of the mantelpiece, gazing 
 around the cozy library, the shelves so lined with 
 books, the busts, the pictures, the desk, the soft 
 cushiony armchairs. Mrs. Lee s work-basket with 
 its confusion of sewing materials added the finishing 
 touch of homely comfort to the place. 
 
 "Eleanor," he said very gently, as she continued 
 to play. 
 
 The girl glanced over her shoulder at him, nodded,
 
 SUIT OF DONALD WAUGH 29 
 
 and went on with her soft trills and flourishes, hum 
 ming a little tune. 
 
 "Leave the piano, if you please, and come talk 
 to me." 
 
 " Listen while you talk, you mean," she playfully 
 corrected, pausing as she crossed the room to pick 
 up the big yellow cat from the velvet cushion where 
 he blissfully reposed and take him in her arms. She 
 seated herself with the cat on her lap, calling him 
 pet names. 
 
 "Do put down that cat," the man exclaimed im 
 patiently. " How can I speak to you seriously and 
 secure your attention when you are hugging a cat. 
 I loathe cats." 
 
 "And I love them," she replied with emphasis. 
 "Tis as well that this one lives here, isn t it? He 
 would not fare well at your hands, poor old pussy! " 
 
 " Oh, I would not abuse him," said Donald. " I m 
 not a brute. Cats are very well in their place, 
 but their place is the kitchen, not the parlor." 
 
 "This one sleeps on the foot of my bed," re 
 marked Eleanor, stroking its long golden fur most 
 lovingly. Donald overlooked her remark. 
 
 " What 1 have to say to you, Eleanor, will not take 
 very long. Please attend. You cannot have misun 
 derstood the purpose of my frequent calls, nor failed 
 to see my deep admiration for your rare character. I 
 am sure I have not made a mistake in fixing my 
 affections on you. I ask you, Eleanor, to accept the 
 love of a man who offers you his whole heart, and a 
 strong arm to lean upon in the journey of life. I beg 
 you to accept my hand. Will you, dear Eleanor, be 
 come my wife?"
 
 30 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 As nothing had led up to this proposal the girl was 
 thoroughly surprised. The avowal was poured 
 forth in measured tones, with a manner of the 
 utmost confidence. Mr. Waugh paused for a reply. 
 He anticipated a yes, perhaps a grateful one, and 
 took a step nearer. Another instant and he hoped he 
 might take her into his arms. But he was not going 
 to frighten her. " Poor little bird," he thought with 
 chivalry, "how she trembles. 1 have been too sud 
 den. 1 have alarmed her, I should have been more 
 tactful." 
 
 But tact and Donald were not often associated. 
 
 " One little word, Eleanor, just one, dearest, will be 
 a pledge for life, and then may I claim you as my 
 wife to be ?" He advanced eagerly. 
 
 Eleanor jumped up, and dropped the cat, her eyes 
 blazing. " Have you lost your wits altogether, Don 
 ald," she exclaimed. "What madness has come 
 over you ? Why I wouldn t marry you if you were 
 the Emperor of India. You ask for one little word; 
 here it is. No. And you have taken a mean ad 
 vantage of me, speaking so when mother is not 
 here. Please go home directly and forget this 
 nonsense. Is it perhaps a play ? " 
 
 A dull red spot grew under each of the man s high 
 cheek bones. 
 
 " You are only a child after all," he said. "I am 
 sorry I have startled you. But I will ask you again, 
 when you are older and a woman. Understand me, 
 Eleanor, it is but deferred, I can wait. Your mind 
 may change." 
 
 "Never," said Eleanor resolutely, and so they 
 parted. She ran to her mother s room and told her
 
 SUIT OF DONALD WAUGH 31 
 
 everything between crying and laughing, and Donald 
 strode moodily home, angry with himself, with her, 
 and with all the world. 
 
 That he had made a spectacle of himself that 
 moved Eleanor to mirth when she thought of it next 
 day was not a consideration that affected him in the 
 least. He was amazed at her scornful rejection, but 
 not humiliated, indignant beyond words, but as 
 resolved on his object as ever hunter who pursued a 
 receding quarry, and on the whole, he inclined to set 
 her astonishing behavior down to maiden coyness 
 and an undisciplined mind. " She has been spoiled," 
 he thought. "She was never taught proper respect 
 for the man who should court her. The Judge was 
 a mere puppet in his wife s hands, and far too 
 indulgent to Eleanor. I ll have her yet, and I ll call as 
 usual, ignoring her folly of this evening. I hope her 
 mother will see what a mistake Eleanor is making. 
 Though I ought to have taken Rachel s hint and 
 waited! A woman does see more clearly than a man 
 in some things." 
 
 This was a large step forward in common sense, 
 and it may be inferred that his disappointment did 
 Donald no real harm. But he had much to learn. 
 Humility is the hand-maiden of love, and it was said 
 by Him who spoke with authority, and the word has 
 never been repealed, "The meek shall inherit the 
 earth." 
 
 Miss Rachel exercised great patience with her 
 brother for the next few days, bearing with his 
 petulance, and brooding over him as good women 
 do, when men of their families are hurt or in trouble. 
 Around the head of the plain spinster well past her
 
 32 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 youth, angels just now discerned an aureole, invisible 
 to other eyes than theirs. 
 
 Meanwhile the Lees suddenly took flight and went 
 away on a long visit to friends in Baltimore.
 
 WHEN HALF GODS GO 
 
 MRS. LEE and her girls took a sudden resolu 
 tion to have a change of scene. Living 
 simply as they did, with only the faithful 
 Norah indoors, and her cousin, a gray little Irishman 
 who was gardener and furnace man and general 
 servitor for every want beyond Norah s willing 
 strength to fill, it was an easy matter to pack the 
 trunks, buy the tickets, and make a quiet flitting. 
 Since the Judge s death, they had been much alone, 
 and Mrs. Lee did not think it necessary to send a 
 good-bye to any except her nearest neighbors, so 
 that when one afternoon Donald Waugh called in 
 fulfillment of his intention not to stay away, he was 
 astonished to learn that all the ladies were absent. 
 Norah volunteered the information that they might 
 remain in Baltimore some months, and Donald turned 
 from the door with the feeling that it had been shut 
 in his face. Vexed with Eleanor before the visit, he 
 was now furious with her mother, and went gloomily 
 homeward in a very bad temper indeed, to find that 
 his sister had invited her great favorite, Mattie Dun- 
 more, to dine and spend the evening. So he had to 
 put his crossness in his pocket for the time. 
 
 Miss Dunmore was a nice girl, but had little of the 
 charm which belonged to Eleanor Lee. She was just 
 a nice girl, very popular and a thorough gentle- 
 
 33
 
 34 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 woman. Likewise she was the possessor of what in 
 those days was considered a tidy sum of money, 
 some three hundred thousand dollars. An orphan, 
 she lived with an uncle and aunt with whom she was 
 not quite happy. Rachel had long ago in match 
 making moments, fancied how the fitness of things 
 would be satisfied should Donald court Mattie. 
 
 As Donald, not in the best of humors, presented 
 himself in the dining-room, there rose to meet him 
 with hand outstretched a compact little lady, trim 
 and neat from her braided brown head to her daintily 
 shod feet. She wore a dress of rich black silk with 
 an edging of lace at throat and wrists, and around 
 her neck was a slender gold chain which ended in 
 the watch pocket at her belt. Hoops were coming 
 in, and Miss Mattie had ventured to wear a small 
 one; it was to her credit that she managed it with 
 a good deal of grace. She smiled at Donald so 
 genially that he felt the ice within him melt. Here 
 at least was a girl without silly caprices who had 
 the ability to know a good thing when she saw 
 it. Donald s wounded vanity was insensibly soothed 
 as Mattie led him on to talk, first of the busi 
 ness situation, and then of the clouds gathering 
 on the national horizon. She was a keen politician 
 and could hold her own in conversation with a well- 
 informed man and for the first time in their acquaint 
 ance Donald took note of her personality and decided 
 that she was worth cultivating. Her maid came for 
 her at half-past eight, but her hostess would not let 
 her leave so early, and sent the maid back saying that 
 she would see that Miss Mattie was safely taken 
 home after awhile. At ten o clock with profuse
 
 WHEN HALF GODS GO 35 
 
 thanks for a pleasant evening, she put on her hood 
 and her warm mantilla and Donald gallantly escorted 
 her down the steps of his home, Miss Rachel linger 
 ing in the doorway to say good-night. The man 
 offered his arm as custom in that day enjoined, and 
 the young woman took it as a matter of course. 
 The hand she rested on it was feather light, but it 
 conveyed in that soft touch something feminine that 
 did not scorn protection. Islington streets were 
 tranquil under the maple boughs, and girls might and 
 did safely walk there unattended, but this did not 
 alter the fact that if by chance a peril came, a girl 
 much preferred having somebody at her side to meet 
 and vanquish it. Policemen, as is the habit of their 
 kind, were never on hand at the instant they were 
 needed, and who knew at what moment a lurking 
 highwayman might start from behind a shadowy 
 tree-trunk ? Mattie Dunmore who had never been 
 selected for much attention by the young men of the 
 village was pleased to be walking home at ten 
 o clock with Donald Waugh, and on his part he was 
 surprised that he had never before noticed how 
 sensible and appreciative and well-mannered his 
 companion was. Not giddy like Eleanor, he 
 thought, with his smouldering resentment against 
 that disdainful girl. Not beautiful like Eleanor, 
 either, whispered something in his heart, but out of 
 his childhood copy-book, came a tricksy sprite, 
 breathing in his ear. Handsome is that handsome 
 does. Instantly though quite unintentionally Mattie 
 had interested him, had made an impression, and at a 
 moment when the man was susceptible. What the 
 great Dr. Chalmers called the expulsive power of a
 
 36 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 new affection, that evening thrust its thin entering 
 wedge into Donald s thoughts. He went home and 
 slept as if girls and their caprices did not exist. 
 
 The journey to Baltimore was a delight to the 
 mother and daughters, to the latter having the zest 
 of novelty. The evening of Donald s proposal, 
 Eleanor had thrown herself on her knees beside her 
 mother s bed, and in a hysterical outburst half cry 
 ing, half laughing, had told her all about it. The 
 mother had felt a strange pang; her little girl was 
 tasting the cup that every woman must sometime 
 drink, honey-sweet, or flavored with bitter herbs, 
 according to her temperament and circumstances. 
 Of one thing she was assured, Eleanor was not 
 yet ready for love. She had still an unawakened 
 heart. 
 
 "If you could return Donald Waugh s love, dear, 
 you would have a very pleasant life," she said. 
 
 "Mother!" exclaimed Eleanor, aghast. "I d die 
 before I d consent to marry that man. Think of his 
 big clumsy hands, that he never knows what to do 
 with, of his red hair, of his odious pomposity. I 
 suppose he s good, but goodness is not everything. 
 He s dreadful. Father could not bear him. He said 
 he was a fearful bore, and he is. The presump 
 tion of his daring to think that he might kiss me! 
 I saw that he meant to! I should never, never look 
 at myself in the glass again if I had let him do 
 such a thing. And, mother, he s at least thirty years 
 old!" 
 
 To nineteen thirty appears venerable! Particularly 
 when nineteen has not yet left the shelter of the 
 mother s brooding wing. Mrs. Lee dropped the
 
 WHEN HALF GODS GO 37 
 
 matter, made Eleanor creep into bed by her, and lay 
 awake long after the child was in dreamland. 
 
 From a worldly view- point, Donald Waugh, pros 
 perous, rising and most respectable, was a very desir 
 able son-in-law, but Mrs. Lee knew that Eleanor in 
 her sweet girlish inexperience would not consider mat 
 ters of convenience, and that the somewhat encum 
 bered Lee estate would never be relieved by a rich 
 marriage on Eleanor s part. The girl was romantic 
 as her father had been. The mother sighed, but her 
 sigh was not sorrowful; she rejoiced that her child 
 was too pure of nature to give herself where she 
 could not yield her whole affection. She was glad 
 to hope that Eleanor might yet find entire happiness 
 in marriage as her mother had. And then she de 
 cided on the visit that would do them all good. 
 
 In quiet Islington, the little household of women 
 had not yet felt the oppression in the atmosphere 
 that boded the swiftly coming storm. Indeed, few 
 people in the North in the years immediately before 
 the Civil War were keyed to the tension which was 
 everywhere felt in the South. Maryland, as a border 
 state, was divided in sentiment. Mrs. Lee found her 
 brother-in-law and his family deeply exercised about 
 State rights; vehement discussions took place in 
 every social gathering; the burning question was 
 what would the South do, as a whole. When Lin 
 coln was inaugurated, South Carolina, acting on the 
 theory that as the states had originally come to 
 gether of their own accord, to form a federation, 
 each had as an individual, the privilege of dissolving 
 the connection at pleasure, seceded by a formal act 
 of her legislature. From that pregnant hour, the
 
 38 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 country was in a ferment, and new issues, new 
 strifes, new dangers were born daily. 
 
 Eleanor and Kathleen were at once swept into the 
 whirl of such gayety as they had never known, and 
 at the same time confronted with excitements hitherto 
 undreamed of. Their cousins were busy making 
 secession flags of silk which they used to drape their 
 rooms, or, in miniature, pinned to their gowns as 
 badges, or presented to their admirers. Parties of 
 girls eagerly contended over the situation and when 
 union and disunion sentiment clashed in the draw 
 ing-room, as it often did, the jar was ominous of a 
 sterner and more deadly conflict to come. People 
 went about, grave-eyed, bewildered, uncertain of 
 the morrow, and with an unspoken dread in their 
 souls, but there was notwithstanding a feverish de 
 sire for pleasure, and added to this a tendency to 
 social display which were in marked contrast with 
 anything the country had known. 
 
 "I came here for a quiet breathing spell," confided 
 Mrs. Lee to her sister, " and lo, my girls are going to 
 teas and dinners and dances, as they never did be 
 fore; and Kathleen is as yet a child in the school 
 room, while Eleanor has not come out." 
 
 "I m doubtful, Alice," was Mrs. Emmet s reply, 
 " whether you will feel like giving Eleanor a formal 
 introduction in these days. The times that will try 
 women s souls, if not men s, will soon be upon us; 
 let the girls enjoy themselves. Baltimore was never 
 brighter than this winter, and all you have to do is to 
 watch that your Nellie does not lose her heart to some 
 one of the young officers who are her partners in the 
 cotillion. I approve of your prohibiting the round
 
 WHEN HALF GODS GO 39 
 
 dance for your girls. I allowed Emily to waltz only 
 with her brothers until she was engaged. Now of 
 course she dances with Jim. 
 
 "Eleanor s heart is not in danger yet," said the 
 mother confidently. "It is a folded bud, or a forti 
 fied town, or something else inaccessible." 
 
 Mrs. Emmet laughed. " You were always poetical, 
 sister," she exclaimed, when she had recovered her 
 composure. "I am not sure that Eleanor Lee is not 
 already in love with Lieutenant Osbourn. There is 
 no doubt about his devotion to her. If you have not 
 seen it, you are blind." 
 
 Mrs. Lee was very much disturbed. 
 
 "Who is he, this Lieutenant Osbourn? Eleanor 
 has had half a dozen of these young fellows in uni 
 form, hanging about her. I have not observed any 
 special approval on her side, and there s safety in 
 numbers, you know." 
 
 "Harry Osbourn is from Ohio, a clever young 
 lawyer before he volunteered and a man of mark, 
 my husband says; one of the men sure to be on the 
 winning list. I fancy he s poor enough, but a girl 
 won t care for that, if he loves her and she lores 
 him." 
 
 "Is he a Christian man?" asked Mrs. Lee seri 
 ously. Again Mrs. Emmet laughed. 
 
 " You are a Puritan, my dear. He s not a Pagan, 
 but whether or not he s a church member, I haven t 
 the faintest idea. Surely you will never make a point 
 of that when it comes to giving your consent to a 
 daughter s marriage." 
 
 "I should make no stand on church-membership," 
 said Mrs. Lee, " but I shall feel safer about my girls
 
 40 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 if in choosing husbands, they choose God-fearing 
 men, such as their father was, and our father too. 
 A man rises no higher than his ideal, and there can 
 be no loftier ideal for a man than Jesus Christ. If 
 we are drifting as a nation upon evil days, we shall 
 need more than ever to stand fast and show our 
 colors as Christians." 
 
 Mrs. Emmet was silenced. She had lost much of 
 her childhood s faith, and grown away from the teach 
 ings of her father s house. Mrs. Lee s words brought 
 vividly back a memory of her youth, when there was 
 daily prayer in the home, and her mother had felt 
 and spoken as her sister did now. At the moment, 
 there was no time for further converse. The door 
 opened and a merry troop of young people came in, 
 among them Lieutenant Osbourn in evidently devoted 
 attendance upon Eleanor. Mrs. Lee said nothing but 
 she watched her daughter with tender anxiety in the 
 next few days. She saw Eleanor s eyes brighten and 
 her cheek flush when the Lieutenant was announced; 
 she saw too, the reserve with which the girl sur 
 rounded herself when in his company. Eleanor Lee 
 was not to be too lightly won. Yet, day by day, 
 love waved aside the shield of maidenly coyness; and 
 Eleanor, unconsciously absorbed, instinctively resist 
 ing, yet slowly yielding, was awakened at last. Her 
 mother had taken her to Baltimore a child. She 
 would go back to Islington, a woman. 
 
 The evening before their return Lieutenant Os 
 bourn formally asked Mrs. Lee s consent to his 
 wooing of Eleanor. He told her of his family, his 
 prospects, his love for her daughter, and he satisfied 
 her that his upbringing had been like Eleanor s, in a
 
 WHEN HALF GODS GO 41 
 
 Christian home. His record was unstained. He was 
 handsome, candid, and debonair; five years older 
 than Eleanor, and her mother did not wonder at 
 Eleanor s preference for him. 
 
 " Have you spoken to her ?" 
 
 " Not in words," was the answer. 
 
 "Only in looks, and flowers, and silence, and 
 homage," said Mrs. Lee, giving him her hand. "I 
 think, Mr. Osbourn, that my daughter likes you. 
 1 give you my best wishes." 
 
 So it came to pass that Eleanor went home to 
 Islington in June, when the roses were in their glory, 
 an engaged girl, her heart with her lover, whose 
 regiment was now on duty in Washington. Her 
 mother had been a bit disposed to be compassionate 
 over the suffering of Donald Waugh, as she had 
 fancied him cast in iron mould, and had supposed 
 he would at some time renew his siege of Eleanors 
 obdurate heart. But the first news that she heard 
 when again established in the cottage, was that Mr. 
 Waugh was spending much of his leisure with 
 Mattie Dunmore. It was really a great relief, though 
 no one spoke of them as lovers. Later, when Donald s 
 business took a mighty leap forward, and his con 
 tracts were multiplied, the mother had some regrets 
 and misgivings. Why could not Eleanor have mated 
 at home ? 
 
 Days came and went, those strange early days of 
 the Civil War. 
 
 One evening as the little family sat at dinner, 
 Harry Osbourn suddenly appeared, and without the 
 slightest prelude declared that he had come for his 
 wife.
 
 42 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 "I want to marry Eleanor without an hour s de 
 lay," he exclaimed peremptorily. 
 
 "What on earth do you mean, Harry?" said 
 Eleanor s mother. 
 
 "Precisely what I say. I have leave of absence 
 for forty-eight hours. I wish to be married to Elea 
 nor to-morrow morning and to carry her back to 
 Washington with me to-morrow night. We are on 
 the eve of tremendous troubles. I may be ordered 
 South at any hour. I may be wounded, or killed in 
 battle. In the one case, I want Eleanor to be able to 
 come to me ; in the other, I want her to bear my 
 name. I cannot be put off, fading, " he said, turning 
 to Eleanor, "you haven t the wish to oppose me, 
 have you ? You will be my wife to-morrow morn 
 ing. Will you not? Say yes, and I ll go out and 
 engage the minister now." 
 
 "Eleanor has nothing ready," interposed Mrs. Lee. 
 
 "Oh, what do we care for clothes, at such a time 
 as this," expostulated the impetuous lover. He 
 turned from Mrs. Lee, took Eleanor in his arms, and 
 kissed her with her mother looking on. 
 
 "Say yes, my darling. Say Harry, I ll do what 
 ever you ask, " he insisted. 
 
 Eleanor blushed, but she lifted up her face to his, 
 with brave eyes, and put her arms around his neck. 
 
 "Yes, Harry dear, I ll do whatever you ask," she 
 answered. 
 
 They were married at ten the next day, and at 
 three they were enroute to Washington. To the 
 mother the affair bore the unreality of a dream. 
 Only when the days passed, empty without her 
 bright Eleanor, when Kathleen, who had never been
 
 WHEN HALF GODS GO 43 
 
 separated from her sister, drooped and lost her 
 gayety, when she packed away the things Eleanor 
 did not want, and sent her those she did, she began to 
 comprehend the finality of this step that had been so 
 sudden. Mrs. Lee suffered acutely from self-blame. 
 To her thought, Eleanor had had a very brief and 
 hasty wooing. She feared she had herself made a 
 mistake in yielding consent so readily and letting her 
 child wed one who was almost a stranger. The first 
 marriage in a family is not unlike the first death, in 
 the vacancy it leaves, and the need for readjustment 
 that follows in its wake. No wonder the bride s 
 mother often has much do to keep back her tears; 
 she is bidding farewell to a whole heart-full of pleas 
 ant occupations that are to be hers no more. And 
 she is tormented at the best of times by a vague un 
 certainty as to whether the new life, and the new 
 love, are to be rich with blessings for her darling. 
 
 Kathleen drooped and was lonely, so Mrs. Lee 
 bestirred herself to comfort her. Also, dimly visible 
 on the horizon s rim was the star of another lover, 
 who should, later, seek Kathleen. But that was not 
 yet. Kathleen was very young.
 
 WAITING DAYS 
 
 WHEN Donald Waugh heard the news of 
 Eleanor s marriage, he simply sulked. No 
 other word so clearly expresses a state of 
 mind in which a person obstinately refuses to be 
 appeased, although he has no valid occasion for re 
 sentment. That Eleanor had been as free as a bird, 
 in no way bound, so far as he was concerned, did 
 not in the least soften the force of the blow; and for 
 some days he was in a temper best described by the 
 phrase, the black dog on the back. His black looks 
 were in evidence at the mills and everybody from the 
 bookkeeper to the office boy, felt afraid that some 
 sort of dreadful business crisis was impending. At 
 home Donald was moody and silent, eating his meals 
 under protest, and curtly answering his sister when 
 she spoke to him. As for Miss Dunmore, he left her 
 severely to her own company, not going near her 
 house for days. She, naturally annoyed, took the 
 best possible means of meeting her lover s desertion, 
 if lover he were. To do him justice, he had not con 
 sidered himself in that light. Without a word to 
 any one Miss Dunmore packed her trunks, and joined 
 the great procession which was ever tending towards 
 Washington. The first intimation of her absence 
 came to Donald in a letter received by Miss Rachel 
 Waugh and opened by her one evening as they sat 
 
 44
 
 WAITING DATS 45 
 
 on the veranda, where in the lingering twilight her 
 brother was reading his evening paper. As Donald 
 had continued to bear himself as a martyr, Miss 
 Rachel, from her earlier sympathy had veered to ex 
 cusable vexation, and she took something like posi 
 tive pleasure in giving him her surprising informa 
 tion. She knew it would be rather a shock. 
 
 "When did you last call on Mattie, brother?" she 
 asked innocently. 
 
 He replied rather testily by another question. 
 
 "Why do you inquire?" 
 
 "Oh, from curiosity. I did not know that she had 
 left us. Everybody is going it seems. On to Wash 
 ington is the rule just now." 
 
 The man repressed an exclamation. With appar 
 ent unconcern he awaited further developments, 
 aware that Miss Rachel had some startling news to 
 impart. 
 
 "Mattie feels that in the state of the country every 
 patriotic woman who is without ties, should offer 
 her services. She has joined Miss Dix and her corps 
 of army nurses at the capital. I hope she ll see 
 something of Eleanor Osbourn. I heard to-day that 
 Eleanor s husband has been ordered to the front." 
 
 "Mattie Dunmore gone as a nurse! What egre 
 gious folly!" exclaimed Mr. Waugh. "Her uncle 
 should have forbidden it. She is too young and in 
 experienced to go among such scenes. Perfectly 
 absurd I call it! " 
 
 "I wonder she didn t tell you of her intention," 
 remarked Miss Rachel, musingly and gazing at Donald 
 with an interrogation in her eyes. 
 
 "Well, she couldn t very well as it has happened.
 
 46 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 The fact is I ve been so broken up over Eleanor s 
 silly step in marrying that popinjay and throwing 
 herself away, that I ve not gone anywhere. I ve not 
 been near Miss Dunmore for a month." 
 
 " After haunting her house, daily, for a previous 
 month! Why Donald! I m ashamed of you." 
 
 Mr. Waugh rose, folded his paper, and turned to 
 go indoors. 
 
 " You will oblige me much," he said with dignity, 
 " if you will hereafter mention neither of those young 
 women to me again in any way, shape or manner. I 
 am beyond the age when a man enjoys being made 
 a fool of by your enchanting sex, sister Rachel." 
 
 Miss Rachel gasped. She gazed after him amused 
 and a little pitiful. He was such a baby, she thought, 
 this big domineering brother of hers, such a spoiled 
 baby. She was herself a reasonable woman and 
 could not comprehend masculine foibles. It oc 
 curred to her that she would go and set a sponge, that 
 her brother might have some rolls of a sort he pecul 
 iarly affected, for his next morning s breakfast. Miss 
 Rachel was a practical woman. 
 
 "At all events," she mused, "I can keep the poor 
 boy washed and ironed and mended and starched 
 and fed. If ever he marries Mattie she ll do the 
 same. As for Eleanor s husband I foresee reefs in 
 the direction of missing shirt buttons and heavy 
 bread." 
 
 Ordered to the front, Harry s regiment surely was, 
 and the fact brought the bride home to her mother s 
 roof. She was reluctant to come, but her objections 
 were overruled. Her husband said he would not 
 feel at ease to leave her in a hotel, by herself, or even
 
 WAITING DATS 47 
 
 in a quiet boarding-house. He absolutely vetoed the 
 plan of her staying with her Baltimore relatives, and 
 seriously objected to her taking up nursing as she 
 proposed. Eleanor thought nothing could be more 
 appropriate for her than that she too, in this period 
 of tribulation should give herself to serve the nation, 
 and minister to the boys in blue. But Harry per 
 suaded her that it would make him wretched, to feel 
 constantly uneasy and disturbed about the one most 
 precious to him in the world, and with a young wife s 
 usual docility she accepted his decision. She came 
 back to Islington and her mother. 
 
 Now followed a twelvemonth of vicissitudes, and 
 varying hopes, of excitements and fears. The Union 
 soldiers were new to hard riding, marching and 
 shooting their enemies, new to foraging, new to 
 everything that war implied. So in a measure were 
 their opponents, yet every Southern country boy had 
 sat a horse from his cradle, and had learned the use 
 of firearms as soon as he was able to pull a trigger. 
 Southerners brought up in town life were handy with 
 rifles and pistols, truculent, accustomed to the per 
 sonal encounter and less peaceful in the grain than 
 their Northern antagonists. Besides this, every 
 Southern man went into the war with a firmly fixed 
 opinion that his foes were cowards, and was filled 
 with an immovable expectation of easy victory. The 
 North lost at first and lost often. 
 
 A deep and wearing solicitude pervaded the home 
 life of both sections. Women, obliged to sit still and 
 wait for tidings, while their best beloved are exposed 
 to deadly peril, have the hardest end of war s terrible 
 experiences to bear; Eleanor hung over the daily
 
 48 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 papers and watched the mail with ceaseless forebod 
 ings. Her beauty took on a new spirituality as her 
 soul grew deeper and stronger under the discipline of 
 trial. Letters came often. She kept in touch with 
 Harry, till battles broke the connection. There ar 
 rived a morning when in the list of casualties, the 
 name of Capt. Harry Osbourn was reported among 
 those who had been taken prisoner by the Con 
 federates. 
 
 It almost killed Mrs. Lee to see the gray pallor of 
 misery that settled down on Eleanor s face, when 
 this report reached her. The poor child was petri 
 fied. She made no complaint, but she refused to be 
 comforted. Kathleen was shut out of her room, and 
 though she permitted her mother s entrance, she 
 scarcely noticed her comings and goings. Friends 
 called and left messages and flowers. Eleanor might 
 have been a statue for all the attention she paid. 
 Under her dumb despair her heart was clamoring 
 insistently for Harry, Harry! 
 
 It was at this time that Donald Waugh, rising 
 above the pettiness of a grudge, proved himself 
 a true friend. He had called, proffering services, but 
 had seen only Mrs. Lee. The roses which had borne 
 his card adorned the drawing-room, but Eleanor had 
 not even glanced at them. 
 
 "Why don t you close this house," he suggested, 
 "and go to Baltimore until the war is over? You 
 will be much nearer headquarters and Eleanor may 
 be diverted. The Captain is sure to be exchanged 
 before many weeks, but she must be roused at all 
 hazards. Otherwise you ll have an invalid on your 
 hands."
 
 WAITING DATS 49 
 
 "You are very good, Donald." Then Mrs. Lee 
 paused. " But if I leave this place everything will be 
 neglected, and I haven t income enough for two 
 homes." 
 
 "Nothing need be neglected here, dear lady. 
 May I not take an old friend s privilege and look 
 after this Islington house ? The Judge would have 
 told you to trust me." 
 
 " He would indeed." 
 
 The end of it was, that the Lees broke camp and 
 Eleanor was for the moment, beguiled from her 
 trouble. But they did not choose Baltimore. There 
 were too many tender associations in that delightful 
 city, and the mother thought it better to establish her 
 child in a totally new environment. They sought 
 the quaint old capital of Maryland, beautiful Annapo 
 lis, and found a temporary resting-place in a gray 
 colonial mansion which had opened its doors to the 
 wayfaring public as a boarding-house offering the 
 comforts of a home, in a grand and lofty fashion, 
 which rigidly forbade the intrusion of the commercial 
 element in the foreground. Annapolis was laid out 
 by its founders on the plan of a wheel, the State 
 House and the City Hall in the centre, the streets 
 radiating from the hub, like spokes. Many fine old 
 houses still maintained an aspect of faded grandeur 
 in the sixties, and in some of them fair women kept 
 poverty hidden as if it had been crime, and dared 
 misfortune with the air of queens regnant. 
 
 Notwithstanding her overwhelming distress at the 
 unknown sufferings which her husband might be en 
 during, Eleanor was interested in her new quarters. 
 Her room which Kathleen shared, had been designed
 
 50 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 by the original owner of the mansion, a colonial gov 
 ernor of Maryland, with a view to the pomp and 
 circumstance which he thought befitted an idolized 
 only daughter. The windows, deeply embrasured, 
 gave upon a neglected garden where thick and 
 sombre hedges of box separated flower-beds in 
 which sturdy annuals throve without culture. Di 
 rectly under the west window there was a terrace 
 adorned with box-trees trained in formal shapes, and 
 representing Queen Elizabeth, and a group of her 
 maids of honor. An old rose-bush, a bush that bore 
 white roses pure as the robes of the saints and sweet 
 as honey, tapped against the pane. The wrens 
 loved this bush, and made nests in its branches. In 
 the middle distance was a crepe myrtle, which 
 Eleanor fancied bore a succession of blossoms. At 
 least their color was processional from faintest pink 
 to deepest crimson, and the tree was a magnifi 
 cent bouquet for weeks together. The magnolia 
 grandiflora with its splendid flower was a delight, 
 and Eleanor, against her will, found herself forgetting 
 her grief and loving the beautiful old Southern 
 garden. 
 
 Two sides of her chamber from ceiling to floor 
 were panelled in long mirrors. Here the Governor s 
 daughter and her girl friends in the vanished days of 
 a ceremonious past, had surveyed themselves when 
 dressed for their parties; for dance or minuet, or 
 sumptuous feast. Kathleen pirouetted in front of 
 these looking glasses and trailed the whiteness of her 
 first long dress before them in a satisfaction which 
 Mrs. Lee did not reprove, so glad was she to have 
 one happy daughter to keep her company.
 
 WAITING DATS 51 
 
 As for the house, it was managed by Cephas, and 
 managed well. Cephas, with his ebony face, and 
 air of grandeur, Cephas, who catered, marketed, and 
 kept accounts, who welcomed the arriving and 
 speeded the departing guest. What did not Cephas 
 do ? He certainly assisted the cook, and was re 
 sponsible for many of the tempting dishes which 
 were served on the table. He was the most im 
 maculate of butlers. He was the most imperturbable 
 and courteous and ubiquitous of major-domos. Be 
 tween the aristocratic mistress of the mansion who 
 sometimes, but not invariably, deigned to preside at 
 her dinner-table, and the incoming surge of strangers 
 from Yankeedom whose fees kept starvation from 
 the door, Cephas stood like the rock that resists the 
 wave. It might foam at his feet, but not one whit 
 did he lose of his incomparable and majestic polite 
 ness; he was master of the situation and equal to 
 every emergency, this black Cephas of unknown age, 
 whose only indulgence was on Sabbath evenings 
 when he sat in the foremost seat and led the singing 
 in the African Methodist church. Then indeed was 
 Cephas a personage. 
 
 The lady of the manor, delicate, coquettish, petite, 
 with an air of extreme dependence and the effect of 
 a snowflake in her soft fragility, was a puzzle to Mrs. 
 Lee. No Northern woman of her type existed in 
 those days. Southern in her birth and breeding, she 
 bore beneath her superficial languor and indolence, 
 an ability to toil, to endure, and to carry out her 
 purposes which was simply untiring and unconquer 
 able. An appealing ingenuousness of manner, 
 childlike in its sweetness, covered depths of resolu-
 
 52 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 tion, which few women surpass; she could and did 
 drive hard bargains through Cephas unsuspected 
 by her patrons, who haggled with him in vain. He 
 was as granite when concessions were demanded, 
 but he kept the house in such comfort that those who 
 dwelt there felt ashamed to seem unwilling to pay 
 the high prices asked. The patrons of the house 
 were largely Army folk, or people coming and going 
 because of the unsettled condition of the country: 
 people who were on the way to Washington, or re 
 turning thence. Mrs. Lee was more than pleased that 
 she had chosen to stay awhile in Annapolis, when a 
 camp for paroled prisoners was presently established 
 a mile or two from its outer limits. Eleanor, too, 
 began to hope, and hope brought back a faint rose 
 flush to cheeks that had grown very pale.
 
 W HEN SOULS WERE TRIED 
 
 IN tne immediate excitement of the hour, great 
 bitterness was felt by those on either side of the 
 tremendous conflict, who had loved ones de 
 tained as prisoners. If in Southern prisons, our men 
 were subjected to harsh treatment, crowded in noisome 
 quarters, and famished on miserably short rations, 
 their captors were less to blame than we then imag 
 ined. They too were living on famine supplies, and 
 making a gallant fight against fearful odds, and they 
 had not wherewithal to house prisoners of war in 
 decency or common comfort. Southern men in 
 Northern war prisons had their tales to tell of hard 
 ship, cold, and suffering. As General Sherman pithily 
 said, "War is cruel and you cannot refine it." At 
 the distance of forty years, prejudices are softened, 
 and vision grows clearer, as the perspective widens. 
 We were once too near, and the wounds were too 
 sensitive, to permit of fairness in judgment. 
 
 Those days in Annapolis seemed unreal to Eleanor 
 as they wore slowly away. She existed. She did 
 not live. Often she paced the floor, up and down, 
 for an hour at a time, silent, woe-begone, the light 
 all dashed from her bright young face that now 
 looked frozen. Her mother was heart-broken. 
 When our children are little there is no trouble that 
 can touch them, which we cannot soothe, but the 
 
 53
 
 54 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 heart-trials of maturity, each person bears alone, and 
 it is no slight grief to stand helplessly by, and see the 
 misery of a child, misery all too great for our assuag 
 ing. 
 
 Mrs. Lee knew that work is the best palliative for 
 sorrow, so instead of bemoaning Eleanor s fate, she 
 insisted on taking a cheerful view of probabilities. 
 "You ll hear good news to-morrow if not to-day," 
 she said, again and again, with no weakening in her 
 tones. Where did she get that invincible strength ? 
 Surely not from man, nor from a blessedly buoyant 
 temperament. It was given her in continually new 
 supplies in answer to her continual prayers, "Com 
 mit thy way unto the Lord," and He will make that 
 way plain before thee. In every age the saints have 
 found this verified. It was verified day by day by 
 Mrs. Lee. 
 
 After the establishment of the camp, hospitals 
 were needed, for the poor fellows who came up 
 from the South by train and transport were in need 
 of medicine, nursing and ministry. Gaunt skeletons 
 of the strong young fellows who had marched away 
 to sound of drum and bugle, with flags flying and 
 thousands cheering, their own mothers would not 
 have known them when they came back. Fever- 
 smitten, starved, dirty beyond belief, in rags and 
 tatters, they looked like the veriest scarecrows, as 
 they tottered on shore, glad to be under the old 
 banner once more. 
 
 Nurses were plenty, among them Mattie Dunmore, 
 doing good work, but there was enough for volun 
 teers to do, and Mrs. Lee and her daughters helped. 
 Eleanor would go from cot to cot, obeying the
 
 WHEN SOULS WERE TRIED 55 
 
 surgeon s orders, writing letters for some poor man 
 who was wounded, letters that carried great joy and 
 relief to a home in Massachusetts or Indiana, and 
 hearing from the men s lips, the story of their months 
 in prison. From more than one she gathered 
 courage, and gradually merged from despair, and 
 began to feel that she might see her husband before 
 long. Indeed that was a red letter day when she 
 learned, positively, that he was alive, and in Libby, 
 though presently a great sorrow was added, when 
 through the medium of the newspapers, just after, 
 she heard that Capt. Henry Osbourn was one of seven 
 who were being held as hostages for seven Con 
 federates whom the Federals held, and for whom, 
 rumor said, there was danger of the death penalty. 
 Eleanor did not understand it, and she was racked 
 with anxiety, but before long the uttermost danger 
 was over. She was told that Harry was relieved of 
 the great peril that had menaced him and would soon 
 be exchanged. 
 
 Knowing this there was something to anticipate. 
 She again took up her life. Color returned to her 
 cheek, and lightness to her step. The picturesque 
 side of her surroundings appealed to her. The music 
 at morning or night the waking bugle call and the 
 evening drum beat, the white camp, with its many 
 tents and orderly streets, the surge of people coming 
 and going, the fires at nightfall, and the men grouped 
 around them, the fitful gayety of life veiling a con 
 stant solicitude, all impressed her as she had not 
 imagined she could be impressed. 
 
 They attended church, and found much profit in 
 the services, though the preacher and many of the
 
 56 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 worshippers were not sympathetic with them. When 
 the pastor prayed that we "might lead a quiet and 
 peaceable life in all godliness and honesty," the 
 Lees could join in that petition, and when the Bible 
 was read, it was the same Bible they had studied 
 ail their days. 
 
 Donald Waugh had business which often brought 
 him to Washington and he found it impracticable to 
 go home to Islington without a visit to Annapolis. 
 So the old hotel often had him for a guest and the 
 proprietor became familiar with his stiff dignified 
 figure, and formal manner, a manner consonant with 
 the solidity Donald always expressed. Miss Rachel 
 accompanied him on one occasion and was enthusias 
 tic in her appreciation of the place and the people. 
 She had been deploring the war, and notwithstand 
 ing her work on the Sanitary Commission, had 
 scarcely realized how terrible it was, and how re 
 lentless how stern its grim hostilities, but now she 
 rose to a higher patriotism. The immortal battle 
 hymn of the republic which Mrs. Julia Ward Howe 
 wrote in those days, speaks the language of those 
 who saw the soldiers come and go in that tumultuous 
 time. 
 
 " Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord, 
 He hath loosed the fateful lightnings of His terrible sharp sword." 
 
 It was indeed "a fiery gospel, writ in burnished rows 
 of steel," that we read in the days of our Civil War, 
 and " God was marching on." 
 
 Donald was assiduous in paying every possible 
 courtesy to the Lees and their affairs at home prospered 
 in his hands. He managed Mrs. Lee s investment^
 
 WHEN SOULS WERE TRIED 57 
 
 and in every little and large way made them free of 
 care. Somehow his regard for Eleanor had subtly 
 changed its character. Since she was another man s 
 wife, he could not long for her, and he sternly for 
 bade himself to think of her with the old yearning 
 and love. Had Kathleen been older, he might have 
 transferred his loyalty to her, but she was a mere 
 child in his eyes. Though he had declared himself 
 indifferent to Mattie Dunmore except as he admired 
 her good sense and enjoyed her friendship, his heart 
 was caught in the rebound when he first saw her in 
 the nurse s neat uniform. Print gown, cap and apron 
 set off Mattie s little figure, and she was what Donald 
 most appreciated, competent, womanly, kind and 
 compassionate in this work she had undertaken. 
 He found himself envying the men to whom she 
 gave food and drink, whose wounds she dressed, 
 whose letters she wrote. 
 
 Before long he was conscious that the vacant niche 
 in his life could be acceptably filled, if Mattie would 
 consent to fill it. But she was busy, preoccupied, 
 aloof. If he was to gain her hand, he must court 
 her, very humbly and very perseveringly. There 
 was no other way of winning this little brown-haired 
 lady, who knew her own value. She loved Donald 
 but pride forbade her capitulating too soon. 
 
 The transport that brought Harry Osbourn to An 
 napolis was at last announced. With a fast beating 
 heart Eleanor was on the wharf to meet her soldier- 
 husband. But was this he ? This wreck of the 
 splendid man she remembered, his eyes looking pre- 
 ternaturally big in the wasted face, his hands like 
 birds claws, his limbs like sticks, arms and legs
 
 58 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 worn to the bone ? Harry had suffered fearfully, and 
 was exhausted to the last vestige of strength when 
 he arrived at Camp Parole. 
 
 Eleanor felt as if she were receiving his ghost. 
 
 " He isn t glad to see me, mother," she wailed. 
 
 " Darling child, he is too ill to be glad of anything," 
 the mother answered. " Be thankful he s a living 
 man." 
 
 When Donald Waugh returned to Islington, he had 
 a good deal to think of, and much to tell Miss Rachel. 
 The plans for his new house which had been thrust 
 into the darkness of his study closet, emerged from 
 their seclusion, and other plans, hitherto in abeyance, 
 materialized. He was becoming a very rich man. 
 He decided on building a beautiful home. Yet, that 
 he might guard himself from vainglory and greed, 
 Donald Waugh, having a conscience, endowed a 
 home for soldiers orphans, and sent a generous 
 check to the Sanitary Commission. His was the pen 
 of a ready writer, and he was as fluent on paper as 
 the most fastidious critic, who cared for him, could 
 desire. Miss Mattie Dunmore received letters from 
 him almost every day, and his wooing was not that 
 of a laggard lover. 
 
 The Lees thought little about Donald or Mattie. 
 Mrs. Lee went to Washington to seek the influence 
 of those high in authority, and she obtained after 
 much pleading a long leave of absence for Harry. 
 Before long they brought him home to Islington, 
 where Eleanor devoted herself to his care. Con 
 valescence was tedious. Months elapsed before he 
 was pronounced well enough to return to the army, 
 and when he went back his wife went with him.
 
 WHEN SOULS WERE TRIED 59 
 
 following his fortunes; staying with or near him, 
 when she could, and, incidentally, taking up some 
 of the burdens and anxieties that heavily tax the sol 
 dier s wife. Hardships and anxieties were often 
 Eleanor s portion in this period, of her life. She did 
 without luxuries which had been as her daily bread. 
 She was merry over the mishaps that her mother 
 would have mourned. With it all she was very 
 happy, until over the heaven of her life, flitted a 
 shadow, a cloud not bigger than a man s hand, but 
 the portent of a coming tempest. 
 
 Most mercifully we do not know beforehand what 
 the future is to bring us. Were it otherwise we 
 could never meet and conquer trouble. The future 
 wears the face of the Sphinx for us every one, and 
 for no other boon of Providence should we be more 
 grateful. Trouble need not crush twice.
 
 THE FIRST SHADOW 
 
 TWO young persons thrown together so 
 cially, in romantic circumstances, mutually 
 attracted, and marrying after a very brief 
 acquaintance, are not likely to have smooth sailing 
 from the start. The first year of marriage is a time 
 of testing, often a time of trial as well. The Os- 
 bourns had been so much apart during their first 
 year of wedlock, that the glamour of the honeymoon 
 was slow to fade. Fading came later. During the 
 strenuous and exciting period of the war, they were 
 so occupied with the events in constant progress, so 
 vividly interested in things beyond their doors, that 
 they had little opportunity to think about themselves. 
 The shadow crept on stealthily. To Harry, his wife 
 was still the exquisite girl whom he had carried off 
 from other suitors, and whose possession filled him 
 with pride and joy. Yet, already he had taken on 
 something of the man s matter-of-fact bearing to 
 wards the thing he possessed. Eleanor was his, to 
 love, honor and cherish, but by no means to make a 
 continual fuss over. Had he not assured her of his 
 love, and should not that be enough ? Harry, though 
 from Ohio, came of New England stock. He was 
 temperamentally calm and undemonstrative, and to 
 remain expansive was not in his power, though he 
 was seldom lacking in courtesy. His one effort at 
 
 60
 
 THE FIRST SHADOW 61 
 
 expansion had exhausted itself when he had urged 
 on the speedy marriage, which had made Eleanor 
 irrevocably his own. Often during those fearful 
 months of fighting, Harry was actually " dead tired," 
 when he met his wife, too tired for anything beyond 
 the chance to snatch a hurried sleep. If she were 
 harassed or pale, or disturbed, he simply did not notice 
 it, and if she cried until her eyes were red, he fancied 
 the redness was due to the wind, or a cold in her 
 head. He sometimes forgot trifling attentions. Yet, 
 on the whole during that unsettled time Eleanor was 
 moderately happy, though not so happy as she had 
 expected to be. She felt a vague disappointment, 
 why she could not explain. 
 
 After the manner of young wives, she was wor 
 shipping an ideal. A girl s first love is far more 
 given to an ideal man, than to the man she actually 
 marries, and blessed among women is she who never 
 finds her ideal flawed. The feet of clay trample so 
 ruthlessly over maiden illusions, and their owners are 
 sometimes so little to blame ! Often they are puzzled 
 as to what can be the matter. 
 
 When we reflect that every husband comes to 
 every wife, out of an environment and from a train 
 ing in many ways diverse from hers, that relations- 
 in-law are notoriously tolerated rather than beloved, 
 and that the new household must perforce be erected 
 over the ruins of some old traditions, and the 
 wreckage of some old joys, the wonder is that so 
 many marriages are ultimately successful, as God be 
 praised, they are. 
 
 In Baltimore again, on the night when the tidings 
 of Lee s surrender brought to the North the wildest
 
 62 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 ecstasy of triumph, as to the South the deepest gloom 
 of despair, Harry Osbourn took Eleanor out to min 
 gle in the crowds that surged through the streets. 
 His uniform proclaimed him one of the conquering 
 host, and men and women whom he had never seen, 
 threw their arms around him and hugged him with 
 rapture. 
 
 "There s glory enough for one day!" cried a 
 young man who had four brothers in the Federal 
 army, and whose empty sleeve was eloquent of sacri 
 fice for the Union. He had been wounded at Gettys 
 burg. "Bress de Lord, honey !" ejaculated an old 
 negro, as the shouts rang and reechoed. " Bress de 
 Lord, who hab set His people free!" Eleanor 
 laughed and cried as she was drawn through that 
 excited, glad-hearted throng, the people beside them 
 selves with gratitude that the war was ended. In 
 Monument Square, there were tall houses illuminated 
 from basement to roof, a candle twinkling starlike in 
 every pane, but other houses faced them in funereal 
 black, not a glimmer of light relieving their aspect of 
 heart-broken mourning. Only a few hours later, and 
 the houses of festival-cheer would in turn put on 
 their symbols of sorrow, when Lincoln s assassina 
 tion had changed the wild joy to bitter grief; while 
 the gloom-shrouded dwellings would throw wide 
 their shutters in brief delight. No hint of the coming 
 martyrdom was yet revealed. Men sang the Star 
 Spangle Banner, and America, and 
 
 " Rally round the flag, boys, 
 Give it to the breeze," 
 
 and those streets of Baltimore that had been stained
 
 THE FIRST SHADOW 63 
 
 with the first blood of the Civil War, when the 
 Massachusetts Sixth was ruthlessly attacked in its 
 passage through the city, resounded to the lilt of 
 "John Brown s Body," and thrilled to the victorious 
 refrain, " For God is marching on! " 
 
 Eleanor never forgot that white night, those ex 
 ultant days. 
 
 The war being over, and the troops mustered 
 out, Harry resumed his profession of the law, and 
 established himself in a Southern city. It was 
 thought by his father and his advisers that Northern 
 capital would rapidly flow into this hitherto sleepy 
 old town, and that wealth and prosperity would be 
 the portion of those who should earliest settle there 
 in the auspicious beginnings of peace. The im 
 pression was a true one, and the prophecies of the 
 most sanguine have been fulfilled, yet the lot of 
 the Northern men who were pioneers of the throng 
 to follow their steps was not a very enviable one, 
 and their wives had some woefully lonely hours to 
 meet. 
 
 " This home is always here for your resting-place, 
 darling," said Mrs. Lee, when she bade Eleanor good 
 bye in Islington on her going off to the new abode. 
 " And you will surely return here every summer." 
 
 "Of course she will come as often as she likes," 
 declared Harry, "and you and Kathleen will visit 
 her. Don t be downhearted. I m not carrying her 
 to the other side of the globe. Only a few hundred 
 miles, you can see each other as often as you wish, 
 never fear." 
 
 Eleanor started for a real home of her own, with 
 high anticipations. She was charmed to think of
 
 64 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 being settled, and keeping house, of making a home 
 for Harry, and having him all to herself. The Vir 
 ginian town selected was not far from tide-water, 
 and so bland was the climate, that flowers bloomed 
 out of doors most of the year, and the winters were 
 mild and lovely. Even in summer nights, cool 
 breezes swept in from the bay, and made blankets 
 needful. On all the Atlantic coast there was no 
 prettier town than Clivedon, which was chosen by 
 Harry and Eleanor for their home. 
 
 The English settlers who set their seal upon Vir 
 ginia brought with them their insular exclusiveness, 
 and the early fashions of well separated homes still 
 obtained in Clivedon. Eleanor s home was a square 
 brick house, with rooms on either side of a broad 
 passage, and a great garden all around it, where 
 violets grew in fragrant beds, and roses fairly rioted. 
 Clumps of peonies, of white lilies, of prince s feather, 
 of southernwood, and ribbon grass, made this pleas- 
 aunce beautiful. It was surrounded by a high brick 
 wall, in which was a small iron gate, the wall com 
 pletely concealing house and grounds from the street, 
 and shielding the inmates from the scrutiny of pass 
 ers-by. Eleanor regretted the wall, it gave her a 
 sense of captivity after the freely shared lawns of 
 Islington, where at most, a hedge or a white paling 
 defined the boundaries of an estate. There came a 
 day when she knelt down and thanked God for that 
 protecting wall. 
 
 Harry s people had been generous livers, keeping 
 open house, and entertaining lavishly, so that the 
 usages of the South, which still made it an obligation 
 to offer some refreshment to callers, were in accord
 
 THE FIRSr SHADOW 65 
 
 with his ideas of propriety. When Eleanor saw her 
 sideboard provided with wines of costly vintages 
 and several brands of whiskey, she at once demurred; 
 her father had held rigid opinions on the subject of 
 temperance, and she was not ready to adopt other 
 tenets than those in which she had been brought up. 
 That Captain Osbourn was not a total abstainer had 
 been to her a source of regret, but in war days, ex 
 cuses had been many. The flask with its stimulating 
 liquor had seemed a necessity on the march, and to 
 the wet, weary, half-famished man, who had taken 
 a pull at it, to keep the cold away, it had appeared a 
 positive boon. Yet Eleanor had already worried 
 much over Harry s inclination to go to it too often, 
 and she had made more than one stand against treat 
 ing others and taking social drinks. 
 
 "You precious little Puritan!" the husband had 
 said, on the occasion of one of their last arguments, 
 " whoever would have fancied you could be such a 
 bigot ? Why I believe you are afraid of my becoming 
 a toper. Shame on you, Eleanor." Half laughingly 
 reproving her, he had stopped her remonstrances 
 with a kiss. 
 
 "Now, look here, wifie! My father and my grand 
 father and his father, all took what they wanted, 
 when they wanted it, and not one of them was ever 
 a mite the worse for the habit. There isn t any harm 
 in the thing, or any danger, and, if I m to succeed 
 here, I ll have to keep the pace of the place. In 
 Rome do as the Romans do, my dear. I don t insist 
 on your offering wine; offer tea if you prefer to your 
 visitors, but leave me my freedom." 
 
 What could Eleanor do ? She tried to persuade
 
 66 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 herself that she was narrow and foolishly timid. 
 She tried to bear herself courteously when her hus 
 band and his guests drank together. And after 
 awhile, though she could not shut her eyes to a 
 certain gradual coarsening of Harry s face, a certain 
 increasing asperity in his temper, yet she endeavored 
 not to associate these features of change with his 
 habits. All around her were men who drank like 
 gentlemen and who held that men might drink like 
 gentlemen, yet never acquire the drunkard s fatal 
 thirst. And the wives seemed not at all concerned. 
 Some of them laughed at Mrs. Osbourn s scruples. 
 Laughed ! They might better have wept. An in 
 cident presently brought sudden wide awakening. 
 
 "Harry, if you are passing the drug-store to-day 
 will you bring me a little bottle of rose-water?" she 
 asked one morning. 
 
 "Certainly, any special variety?" 
 "No, any delicate extract will do, dear." 
 An hour or two after his departure, a colored boy 
 appeared bearing a small basket packed to the top 
 with rose-water in flat vials, in round vials and in cut 
 glass bottles large and small. Harry had simply pur 
 chased the entire stock in trade of the druggist and 
 sent it home. Eleanor found it unwise to give her 
 husband the smallest marketing to do in a town 
 where men frequently attended to the marketing. He 
 bought as if supplying the commissariat of an army. 
 Then he fumed and scolded, if she asked for money, 
 asserting that they were living at a rate which would 
 soon land them in the poorhouse. They were! But 
 it was not Eleanor s fault. 
 In court Harry was brilliantly spectacular, an able
 
 THE FIRST SHADOW 67 
 
 pleader, with the sure grasp on facts, and the readi 
 ness to turn to the right authorities, which are hall 
 marks of the well equipped advocate. Before a jury 
 he was at his best, eloquent, convincing, scholarly, 
 and fine. 
 
 "You maybe proud of your husband, madam," 
 said a courtly judge. "He is received at our bar as 
 if he were a son of the soil." No greater compliment 
 could have been paid in those times and in that state. 
 
 Harry had been conducting an unusually involved 
 and fatiguing case, hotly contested by stubborn op 
 ponents. To win it against overwhelming odds, 
 was next to impossible, but he persevered, and won, 
 to his own surprise, as well as to the dismay of his 
 antagonists. A large sum of money was at stake, 
 and his gain meant a very handsome fee, which was 
 of less account in his sight, than the honor his 
 success brought him. Yet the money too was 
 opportune. 
 
 From the court room he came home, white, hag 
 gard, and nervous. Reaction had set in. He could 
 eat none of the tempting dinner Eleanor had provided, 
 but he drank deeply, and with a word of apology 
 went off to bed. 
 
 "I ll be rested in the morning," he said. "I m 
 clear down now. Don t let anybody know I m at 
 home." 
 
 That night Eleanor tasted for the first time the full 
 horror of watching by the bed of a man who was 
 not himself. Harry s face became flushed. His 
 breath came in gasps. He grew violent, raved, 
 cursed and swore. Then followed fright, abject 
 shivering terror that shrank from imaginary foes.
 
 68 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 He declared that rats were running up and down the 
 walls, and fairly shrieked for help. 
 
 Eleanor aroused her butler and sent him for the 
 doctor. When he arrived, his practiced eye at once 
 recognized the symptoms. 
 
 " I have feared this," he said. 
 
 "What is it, doctor?" asked the wife, who stood 
 in her white gown beside the bed, as beautiful as an 
 angel, the doctor thought, but sadder than a woman 
 ought ever to be. 
 
 The doctor spoke in a low tone, taking her aside 
 into the next room. " Your husband is in danger of 
 delirium tremens, madam, but I hope to control it. I 
 will watch by him till morning, with William s help. 
 It is a first attack, and should yield to treatment." 
 
 "Oh, Dr. Abbott, it cannot be that," exclaimed 
 Eleanor in terror. "Harry has been under a terrific 
 strain, and is very, very tired." 
 
 " Yes, dear lady, I know," said the doctor. " Leave 
 him to me. And you go to bed. Poor child, you are 
 very young to have so much trouble before you."
 
 Y1I 
 
 FOR BETTER, FOR WORSE 
 
 THE native strength of character that had 
 enabled Eleanor Lee at eighteen to bear her 
 self bravely under the overwhelming shock 
 of her dear father s sudden death, was not wanting 
 when bitter trial came to the woman. She was 
 young, as the old doctor said, but she had already 
 had some foreshadowing of disaster, and she braced 
 her spirit to resist or to endure whatever might be 
 before her. In the moment of the doctor s words, 
 she summoned all her will, to keep from any out 
 ward wavering. While she could do anything for 
 Harry, she remained near him. When at last, soothed 
 and quieted, he slept, she crept away to an upper 
 room, and turned the key. Alone, in the darkness, 
 broken only by the beams of a moon in its last 
 quarter, she gave way; sobs shook her as the wind 
 shakes the reed, and her hot tears fell, but the reed 
 bends, and does not break, and Eleanor, when the 
 tempest had spent itself, knelt and said her prayers, 
 just as she had done from childhood, then lay down 
 and fell asleep. When she awoke, morning had 
 come, with its fragrance and bird-song. Everything 
 was sparkling with dew and the world was fair as if 
 bathed in Eden freshness. She softly opened her 
 door and listened. From her husband s room below 
 stairs, there was no sound. By degrees the scenes 
 
 69
 
 yo ELEANOR LEE 
 
 of yesterday returned to her mind. She wondered 
 that everything looked as usual, the sky so blue and 
 bright, the garden so perfumed, the river so full-tided 
 with all its shining waves, and the little fishing boats 
 with their sails spread, leaving harbor for the open 
 sea. Who has not sometimes felt the indifference of 
 Nature to human pain, almost as if it triumphed in 
 its mockery ? Eleanor had the child s habit of the 
 morning prayer. She said, "Our Father," and when 
 she came to "Thy will be done," the great comfort 
 of that acceptance suddenly rested her soul, as if an 
 arm had been thrown around her, and new strength 
 from without poured into her heart. The will of 
 God, accepted, adopted, is a pillow on which any 
 head may safely lean. 
 
 The door still stood ajar, and there was no sound 
 as yet from Harry s room. The house was astir and 
 the daily routine had begun; the maid was sweeping 
 and dusting and the hall doors were wide open to let 
 the breeze search every corner. From the kitchen in 
 the yard came a familiar before-breakfast thud; it 
 was Aunt Polly making beaten biscuit. Eleanor 
 stepped out to Aunt Polly s realm and sinking into a 
 splint bottomed chair, took a cup of hot coffee, and 
 then gave her orders for the day. She caught up 
 Aunt Polly s youngest, a dimpled pickaninny and 
 held her on her lap. No young thing in the world is 
 prettier than a little black baby. Eleanor lingered, 
 talking over commonplace things with the good old 
 woman. There was a curious dual feeling in 
 Eleanor s mind just then. She was aware of a deep 
 peace, something strong beneath all "the sound and 
 foam " of life, and yet emotionally she was ex-
 
 FOR BETTER, FOR WORSE 71 
 
 hausted. The storm of last night s weeping had 
 worn out her power to suffer any more. Yet if 
 suffering should come now, there would be no 
 storm. Of this she felt an assurance as certain as if 
 a divine voice had spoken it in her ear. Aunt Polly 
 shook her head as she saw her go smiling into 
 the house again. 
 
 Beside her bedroom door she paused. She saw 
 her Harry, the dear head lying on the pillow, the 
 hand, no longer clenched, passive on the sheet. A 
 nurse for whom Dr. Abbott had found he mn^ 
 send the night before, heard the soft rustle of her 
 gown, and came noiselessly from the other side of 
 the screen that stood between the bed and the door. 
 
 "Mr. Osbourn s much better, madam," he said. 
 " He has been asking for you! " 
 
 " Go down and get some breakfast," she replied. 
 " I ll stay by my husband." 
 
 As she entered the room, something caught at her 
 calmness, and her composure was threatened. Such 
 a pity! Such a pity! A choking lump filled her 
 throat! But the distress passed. Again the help 
 from outside was vouchsafed. Ah! to God s children 
 in the midst of the tumult, there is peace, if there is 
 faith. " Underneath are the everlasting arms." 
 
 But in that day something happened. Eleanor Lee 
 said good-bye to her girlhood. It slipped away 
 like an outworn garment. The wife who stood 
 beside her prostrate husband was clothed upon with 
 maturity. She was all woman now, woman beyond 
 girlish caprice and inexperience for all time to come. 
 She conquered her impulse to fly, and took her seat 
 in a chair beside the bed. Then, flowing in from
 
 72 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 some unsuspected recess in her nature, provided for 
 just this crisis, perhaps, ages before she was born, 
 came the courage, the compassion, the indescribable 
 tenderness of a wife s all-comprehending love. Not 
 in vain for most of us, have heroic ancestors lived 
 and wrought, have saintly men and women of our 
 line, been invincible in faith and triumphant in 
 prayer. The fruit of every pure and honest life re 
 peats itself, as harvest follows seed-time through 
 successive generations. Mingled with the wife s 
 gentle pity and tender devotion, was something 
 that Eleanor had not known before, but that never 
 left her again, a brooding and benign desire to 
 shelter and protect this man, the very essence of 
 motherhood that subtly pervades the love of a true 
 woman for her husband. 
 
 " Eleanor?" 
 
 "Yes, Harry, I am here!" 
 
 "Can you ever pardon me? I cannot forgive 
 myself." 
 
 "Don t talk about it now, dear husband. Just be 
 quiet and get well." 
 
 " I never dreamed of being such a beast, Nellie. 
 If I had, I would have stopped in time, but the thing 
 got me by surprise. I was all tired out, I suppose. I 
 don t understand it yet, but I m desperately ashamed. 
 You know I never meant to come to you in the state 
 I was last night, to profane this home, Eleanor, and 
 alarm you as I did." 
 
 "Don t talk about it, Harry," she pleaded. "All 
 will be well, if you ll listen to the doctor and to me 
 from now on." 
 
 The physician, a man of very plain speech, and of
 
 FOR BETTER, FOR WORSE 73 
 
 great kindness of heart let Harry alone, until he was 
 about again and at his office. There, one afternoon, 
 when business was over for the lawyer s day, Dr. 
 Abbott called. In clear incisive words, hitting in 
 their brusque candor, straight from the shoulder, 
 he told Harry Osbourn that he was on the highroad 
 to disgrace and death. Harry was wounded and 
 showed it, but the doctor paid no attention. 
 
 " My dear fellow," he said, looking keenly into the 
 eyes of the younger man, "there are persons who 
 may indulge without much danger of injury or ex 
 cess, in moderate drinking. They are of stronger 
 constitution and less sensitive nervous organization 
 than you are. You have turned the corner where you 
 may safely take chances. Throw away every drop 
 of wine, brandy, whiskey, or even beer, that you 
 have in this place. Refuse to drink with friends 
 or clients. Let your wife keep the keys at home. 
 Absolute safety for you lies in total abstinence." 
 
 "Aren t you rather hard on a man for one acci 
 dent, doctor?" said Harry, flushing with annoyance. 
 
 "Ah! but this was not an accident. If I saw 
 a man making straight for a precipice or steering 
 into the den of a rattlesnake, would I not warn him ? 
 I tell you again, Mr. Osbourn, your illness of last 
 week was not an accident. It was as certainly the 
 result of a long course of unwise indulgence as that 
 two and two make four. 1 warn you solemnly that 
 you haven t the physique to stand many such turns 
 as you ve had. Two such attacks or three at the 
 most, will bring you to your death. Remember you 
 are somewhat enfeebled by the war and its hardships. 
 And my friend, you have a great deal to live for!
 
 74 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 Pardon me if I have been blunt, I have warned 
 you." 
 
 Harry was silent. He was conscious of a good 
 deal of irritation and protest. This meddling old 
 gentleman was taking advantage of a fellow when 
 he was down. 
 
 "Doctor," he said, with an air of conviction, 
 " you are wasting a lot of time on me. I declare to 
 you I ve not had the very faintest desire to take 
 a teaspoonful of liquor, since I rose from my bed. 
 My wife s as sure as I am that the affair of last week 
 was a pure accident, that it will never be repeated. 
 Why, the very thought of liquor is a disgust to me, 
 to-day." 
 
 "1 am glad of that, "said the doctor simply. "But 
 nevertheless follow my prescription and heed my 
 counsel. There is no middle course for you. sir. 
 Let drink alone, and you ll be safe to live to a good 
 old age." 
 
 Three months slipped by so smoothly and swiftly 
 that one wondered what became of the days. 
 Harry s office absorbed much of his time, and im 
 portant cases multiplied. He had a gift of eloquence, 
 and was sought after to plead. The South has 
 always set a premium on the convincing orator. 
 Harry felt the delight that brims a man s soul when 
 he sees that he has power over listeners, of an advo 
 cate when a jury is as wax in his hands. 
 
 Eleanor was occupied with her housekeeping and 
 with society. Northern women were not all wel 
 come in that conservative Virginia town, but 
 Eleanor s charm captivated every one, and she had 
 many friends. Harry had presented her with a pony
 
 FOR BETTER, FOR WORSE 75 
 
 and phaeton, and she went for daily drives to the 
 beach or through the woods, often picking up 
 acquaintances and carrying them with her for com 
 pany. She wrote to her mother and Kathleen invit 
 ing them to pay her a long visit. 
 
 Three ideal months! Then, the crash came. Came 
 without warning! All Eleanor s life, calamity had a 
 way of springing on her suddenly, like a tiger leap 
 ing from ambush. 
 
 She had been spending the afternoon with a friend, 
 reading Shakespeare and then they had taken a little 
 drive together. Returning, at almost the hour for 
 their late dinner, she had dropped Mrs. Murray at her 
 door, and turned in at her own gate. 
 
 Car line was standing on the porch, watching for 
 her. She ran down the steps to meet her mistress. 
 
 "Oh! Miss Nellie," she cried, "cap en s done locked 
 the do and I can t get in to set the table. An Lawd 
 knows what foolishness he s doin in thar." 
 
 "Hush, Car line." She spoke sternly, but her 
 heart quaked. She went to the door and tried it. 
 The doors of the library and of the dining-room 
 which were communicating were both locked, and 
 Eleanor heard her husband moving about. She could 
 not imagine what was occurring on the other side of 
 the door. 
 
 The servants clustered, a curious group, at the end 
 of the hall. Aunt Polly, with her bright head kerchief 
 over her tightly knotted wool, Car line, pretty, coffee- 
 colored, and coquettish, William, dignified, and 
 soldierly, all inquisitive, yet sympathetic. To none 
 of them was the drama quite unfamiliar. They knew 
 the ways of men in drink, far better than did
 
 76 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 Eleanor, with the background of a home where 
 stimulants were never used except as medicine, and 
 even then with the wariness exercised over poison or 
 gunpowder. 
 
 Eleanor dismissed the servants. 
 
 " Go away," she said. 
 
 " Wouldn t I better stay, Miss Eleanor?" 
 
 William s tone was respectful, his look anxious. 
 
 " No, William, I don t want you. Please all go to 
 the kitchen, and close that back door." 
 
 When they had gone, she tapped softly. 
 
 "Harry, please let me in," she spoke in a quiet 
 voice, as one might to a fractious child. 
 
 The door was unlocked. Eleanor entered. She 
 did not soon forget the sight that met her gaze. 
 
 "Getting ready to move, Nell," said her husband 
 thickly. "Thought I d do what I could, before you 
 got home. Hope you approve." 
 
 Every curtain was torn from its window and 
 thrown upon a heap in the middle of the floor. The 
 shades had been taken down, and were spread out 
 in long straight lines. From mantel and china cup 
 board Harry had taken ornaments and cups. Some 
 of them were very precious to Eleanor, but they had 
 suffered damage and wreck, for with hasty hands, 
 the madman had piled or tossed them upon the 
 white heap of curtains. 
 
 " You don t like it," he said, with an air of injury. 
 "Impossible to please a woman. Do your best you 
 can t please her." 
 
 He lurched heavily across the room and the hall, 
 threw himself on a divan in the reception room, and 
 was presently lost to everything in the deep sleep of
 
 FOR BETTER, FOR WORSE 77 
 
 intoxication. Eleanor turned the key for awhile on 
 that sleep. 
 
 Thus sorrowfully ended the first three months of 
 truce with the demon. 
 
 The wife had no tears to shed. She stood in her 
 disordered [room, in that state of havoc, a few mo 
 ments unmoved. Then she summoned Car line and 
 William and hastily, so far as she could, restored it 
 to its usual state. Before she had finished her 
 neighbor, Mrs. Murray called, to invite her to 
 luncheon the next day. She had no excuse ready to 
 offer, and accepted, that Mrs. Murray might the 
 sooner go. By the next day, Harry was oblivious of 
 all that he had done, but it was for his wife, the 
 calm before another storm.
 
 YW 
 DAY BY DAY 
 
 " 1^ Jf OTHER and Kathleen are coming to 
 
 1% /I make me a visit on their way to Florida." 
 
 JL v -JL Eleanor was reading her morning mail 
 which had just been brought in from the post-office. 
 
 "You don t seem very much pleased," said Mr. 
 Osbourn. 
 
 "Of course I am pleased, but " 
 
 "You don t know just how to entertain them? 
 Give Kathleen a party." 
 
 " I fancy they would rather take us as we are, and 
 1 don t think Kathleen will want anything special 
 done for her. It is a good while since we three have 
 been together." 
 
 "Well, we ll do our best," and Harry, gay and 
 debonair, went off for the day. 
 
 His wife s eyes followed him wistfully. She had 
 pinned a white flower in his buttonhole, and as he 
 swung out of the gate, he turned and waved his 
 hand. She was reflecting that for some weeks at 
 least there would be no great danger in having her 
 people with her. Eleanor was reckoning on a cer 
 tain relief from the anxiety that pressed like a stone 
 on her heart most of the time. The heavy hearts 
 that some women carry, hidden behind their smiles, 
 are pitiful. Surely Christ sees them with deep com 
 passion. As Eleanor read her Bible that morning, a 
 
 78
 
 DAT BT DAT 79 
 
 new meaning made itself felt in the Lord s words, 
 "Take no thought for the morrow. The morrow 
 shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient 
 unto the day is the evil thereof." The storm had 
 come and gone. She felt as if in its ground-swell 
 still. The morning slipped away. 
 
 A messenger rang the door-bell, and a parcel was 
 handed in. It contained two dress patterns, one of 
 rich black silk, the other of sumptuous white brocade 
 sprinkled with pink rosebuds. A sealed note from 
 her husband fell out of the package. 
 
 " Take these for atonement, my darling," he said, 
 "and for goodness sake, stop worrying. I know 
 you are afraid to let your mother come here, but 
 you needn t be. I ll never again, never, descend into 
 the depths I did a week ago. You are an angel, so 
 please accept this from your devoted and penitent 
 Harry." 
 
 Eleanor cried a little over the letter and the present, 
 for there was no power of belief, except in her hus 
 band s good intentions, left in her heart. But she 
 loved him, not the less in his weakness; even more, 
 she thought, though something very precious, re 
 spect, reverence and dependence had gone from their 
 relation. But Love suffereth long and is kind; Love 
 hopeth all things; she would try to hope. 
 
 For atonement! Poor Harry! As if thus atone 
 ment could be made. 
 
 In the bottom of her cedar chest, lay the fragments 
 of a pale blue satin gown of which she had been 
 fond. Harry, in that last maniac fury of his, had 
 taken it from its nail, and cut it into strips, laughing 
 when he saw her consternation. She had bundled it
 
 8o ELEANOR LEE 
 
 out of sight, and had fancied that he had no recollec 
 tion of his act. The letter proved it otherwise. 
 
 She was a bit sorry that he had spent so much 
 money just now, for, the exchequer of a drunkard is 
 a bag with holes, and Eleanor knew they were run 
 ning behind. But she laid away the bravery of the 
 shining silks and thanked him with gracious sweet 
 ness when he came home at night. 
 
 " If you could but trust me! " he said. " It would 
 be a help! " 
 
 People do not always understand that intemperance 
 is a malady, that it has its rhythmic periods and pauses, 
 and that its victim is as much to be commiserated 
 as blamed. In many cases, the efforts to rout the 
 fell disease intrenched in his body, and to recover his 
 lost liberty are brave and sincere. But when the 
 devil has once gone out of a man, unless One strong 
 enough to vanquish him and all his host, take pos 
 session of the empty place, and hold the fort, seven 
 devils more malignant than the first may at any time 
 return. Pledges, vows, resolves are like the green 
 withes that Samson burst like tow. Only the grace 
 of God in the heart can produce a permanent cure. 
 Not reformation is wanted, but remedy. Not prom 
 ises, but a radical change. 
 
 Eleanor was to be taught in God s school, how to 
 live by the day. It is an art worth much painstaking 
 to acquire. She feigned not to see that people in 
 town noticed the gradual deterioration in Harry, and 
 she carried her head so regally, that if any pitied her, 
 they did it behind her back. She fulfilled to the letter, 
 the rule she had made for herself, that to no human 
 being would she speak of Harry s lapses from so-
 
 DAT BT DAT 81 
 
 briety; not to mother, sister, friend or acquaintance. 
 Her pastor occasionally called, but though women 
 often gave him confidences, he received none from 
 Eleanor. The old doctor who perfectly knew the 
 battle she was waging, did not dare to offer a help 
 ing hand. He went again and again to her husband s 
 office, but when he called at the home, the wife s 
 demeanor forbade the slightest allusion to the trouble. 
 It was a barrier none could cross. 
 
 "There must be a skeleton in her closet," said a 
 friend, "but she keeps it there, with the door bolted 
 
 and barred." 
 
 " A very pearl of womanhood," said Dr. Abbott, 
 shaking his shaggy head, "splendid in her courage, 
 but this will kill her, if it lasts much longer, and it s 
 bound to kill him." 
 
 "There is a way out and up," replied the doctor s 
 wife, the only person with whom he discussed the 
 matter. 
 
 "I d like to find it." 
 
 " Ah, dear! That way is only to be found by those 
 who follow a greater healer than you are! " 
 
 " Don t, Emilie, don t be unscientific." 
 
 " There is a science that transcends yours, dear. 
 If Mr. Osbourn could be converted, through and 
 through, he d slough off this sin, by Christ s help. 
 I m praying for him, and for his wife. I feel that 
 some light will be given soon! " 
 
 "God grant it," said the doctor reverently. His 
 wife was of those who receive the word as little chil 
 dren do, simply and without reserve, and of such 
 are the kingdom of heaven. 
 
 When Mrs. Lee arrived everything was at peace.
 
 82 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 She and Kathleen fell in love with the beautiful old 
 town, and liked the people. Eleanor s home life as 
 sumed an ideal aspect in their eyes, and they sus 
 pected no hidden trouble. 
 
 Harry was at his best, a model host, and spared no 
 attentions that were graceful and thoughtful. Recall 
 ing the old days of the Judge s triumphs, Mrs. Lee took 
 a sympathetic interest in Harry s professional work, 
 listened when he related stories of his cases, and was 
 able to make intelligent comments, which pleased 
 and drew him out. Kathleen, sparkling, vivacious, 
 with her full share of the family good looks, was a 
 great favorite. Every one urged the Lees to stay, 
 and Eleanor, who could not do so, was half afraid 
 they would wonder at her lack of spontaneity. 
 They thought it due to her yearning for the old 
 home. 
 
 " You will both come home to Mattie Dunmore s 
 wedding next month, won t you?" asked Kathleen, 
 the day before they left. "She and Donald are to be 
 married in church, and they are going straight to their 
 new home, without a wedding journey. Mattie says 
 they will take that later. Perhaps go abroad next 
 summer." 
 
 " I can t leave," said Harry, " but there s no reason 
 why Eleanor should not be a wedding guest. She 
 ought to go North awhile anyway." 
 
 " Well, Donald Waugh being my ancient enemy," 
 said Eleanor laughing, "I see no occasion for leaving 
 you to fend for yourself, while I assist at his wedding. 
 It s odd that Mattie and he have waited so long." 
 
 "Not so very odd. Mattie got it into her head 
 that she ought to spend her life as a trained nurse,
 
 DAT BT DAT 83 
 
 and Donald has had hard work persuading her to 
 give up that career. Besides Donald is very busy 
 making money. He s really frightfully rich, you 
 know, and Mattie and he will live in a perfect palace. 
 But he s been too busy to marry, I do believe." 
 
 "May they be very, very happy," said Eleanor, 
 quietly. 
 
 When her mother and sister had retired that night, 
 Harry brought up the matter again. Eleanor noted 
 with dismay the restlessness of manner that was the 
 precursor of what she had learned to dread, She 
 was relieved that her mother s trunks had gone, and 
 that the travellers were to leave on the express early 
 next day. Heaven grant her to be alone with Harry, 
 if he were on the verge of another outbreak. 
 
 "1 want you to go to Mr. Waugh s marriage 
 whether I do or not. I ll go if I can manage it. 
 Can t you see, Nellie, that if he s so rich, he may 
 help me to something in the line of a steady job up 
 there ? I m dead tired of this old coach of a town." 
 
 "Why, I thought you liked it so much." 
 
 "Well, you thought wrong. I can t keep the 
 pace. Thanks to your straight-laced notions abetted 
 by that old fool of a doctor, I m insulting people and 
 turning off practice every day. A man can t get on 
 here by being a Pharisee." 
 
 "Oh! Harry!" 
 
 His impatience was so acute that it flashed a warn 
 ing to her of danger ahead. 
 
 She was silent, waiting. Her silence exasperated 
 him in his mood of unreason. 
 
 "Don t, for pity s sake, sit there like the sphinx, 
 Eleanor, say something. You needn t be dumb."
 
 84 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 " I don t know what to say." 
 
 " You used to have plenty to say for yourself, but 
 you have changed. I wish if you can t entertain a 
 man, when heaven knows he s got enough to depress 
 him, you d pack up and go away with your mother 
 for awhile. Then I wouldn t see your pale face re 
 proaching me. If you mean to stay here, you may 
 as well smile. I won t stand being looked at as if I 
 were the offscouring of the earth." 
 
 " Harry, dear Harry, speak low. You ll be over 
 heard." 
 
 He scowled. Eleanor turned away to hide the 
 tears that were brimming in her eyes, and to control 
 her quivering lip. She stood tall, white and fair in her 
 night-dress, its folds falling to her feet. Her hair hung 
 in two long braids. Surely her guardian angel was 
 sorry for her, such a child she looked, and in so much 
 distress. A slight noise made her turn round hastily. 
 
 " Harry ! " she cried, " what are you doing ? " 
 
 He replied after an instant s hesitation. 
 
 "Nothing much. Let me alone." 
 
 " But I won t." 
 
 He was setting a small flat brown bottle on a little 
 stand which held candles and a match-tray for the 
 night. Beside it was a glass. He lifted the bottle to 
 pour a dram. Eleanor snatched it from him. 
 
 " 1 need this, dear," he said, coaxingly. " I ll need 
 it in the night. Can t you see I am not myself ? I 
 am ill." 
 
 "In my own room, in my very presence! Oh, 
 Harry, my darling, what ails you ? Preparing for 
 what you know will follow! " 
 
 " Don t call me darling! " he said savagely. " Don t
 
 DAT BT DAT 85 
 
 you dare speak to me again till you can behave like a 
 wife. I wonder at you, Eleanor! You are a stone! " 
 
 It was all done in a second, and neither man nor 
 woman had raised their tones, but Eleanor had 
 snatched the bottle and poured what it held out of 
 the window on the garden bed. Harry faced her, 
 black with anger. She returned his gaze, steadily, 
 fearlessly, till his eyes dropped, and his countenance 
 cleared. 
 
 "You little Puritan!" he said. "Where s the 
 harm in one drink ? That was all I wanted, 1 give 
 you my word. And that was good stuff! " 
 
 Then she knelt by the bed where he had thrown 
 himself, smoothing his forehead and his hair, kissed 
 him, as a mother might a willful but beloved child. 
 
 "Merciful Saviour!" she cried, "must we go 
 through this all again, so soon, so soon ?" 
 
 "Be still, dear," he said, gently. "Come to rest. 
 I will try to forget about it, and we ll go to sleep." 
 
 But Eleanor put him off, and sat by the window 
 the livelong night. Sometimes he slept. Some 
 times he resolved to dress and go down town. She 
 restrained him with eyes that did not shrink, soothing 
 him with her voice that had in it the note of a tender 
 authority. 
 
 Towards morning, Harry drowsed off, and was ap 
 parently fast asleep, and presently Eleanor felt that for 
 the moment it was safe to leave him and relax her 
 vigilance. She went to her dressing-room to bathe 
 and put on her clothes. It was almost day. She 
 was grateful for the dawn. Into her mind came a 
 stanza of an old hymn often sung in prayer-meetings 
 at home.
 
 86 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 " When through fiery trials thy pathway shall lie 
 My grace all-sufficient shall be thy supply. 
 The flame shall not hurt thee, I only design, 
 Thy dross to consume, and thy gold to refine." 
 
 A slight movement in her room made her turn and 
 listen. She hastened back. 
 
 Stealthily, like a fleeing burglar, his garments in 
 his hand, Harry was escaping by the window, mean 
 ing to climb to the ground. When she spoke to him 
 he came sheepishly back. 
 
 "One drink, Eleanor, will steady my nerves, and 
 tide me over this bout, till your mother and Kathleen 
 are gone. I order you to give it me. You promised 
 to obey, don t you know ?" 
 
 " Harry, I would die before I would give it you," 
 she said. " You shall not have a drop in this house. 
 But I ll have Polly make you some strong coffee." 
 
 She called from the window to the kitchen where 
 Aunt Polly was bending over her breakfast rolls. 
 
 "Hurry, Aunt Polly, send me a pot of your very 
 strongest coffee, quick." 
 
 The will of the wife controlled the will of the 
 husband, though the tyranny of his appetite was 
 upon him like a strong man armed. He waited for 
 the coffee. And Mrs. Lee and Kathleen set off a little 
 later on their journey South in blissful ignorance of 
 the strife that had been waged under that roof that 
 night. 
 
 "I can t imagine what makes Eleanor so deathly 
 pale," said Kathleen. 
 
 "The climate accounts for it," answered Mrs. Lee.
 
 IX 
 
 SOME OF THE NEIGHBORS 
 
 THINGS may be trying enough, but they 
 rarely break one down, when one is young 
 and strong and of sanguine temperament. 
 Eleanor had been brought up in a country village 
 where people knew and cared for one another, and it 
 was the most natural impulse in the world for her to 
 seek out and minister to her neighbors in these days. 
 Some of them were friendly, but others held stub 
 bornly aloof. They were embittered by the loss of 
 property, and by the overthrow of the pleasant 
 world to which they had been used. The presence 
 in their midst of United States naval officers, and of 
 a small army contingent, the flags on the shipping in 
 the harbor, and the national airs played by the 
 marine bands, morning and evening were an offense. 
 Most of all they resented the intrusion in the com 
 munity of prosperous Northerners allied to those who 
 had conquered them, and the women were much 
 slower than the men to forgive and forget. Still, 
 there is magic in sincerity and kindness and Eleanor 
 won her way. 
 
 She took the first step one day when she was par 
 ticularly downcast and was fighting hard to be 
 cheerful. 
 
 "Look here," she said to herself. "This will 
 never do. You are throwing away your life, when 
 
 87
 
 88 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 you ought to be making the best of it, drawing into 
 your shell, when you ought to be helping along 
 somewhere. But how shall you begin ? " 
 
 Eleanor had a visiting list, and she looked it over. 
 There were calls she had not returned; many people 
 from Northern states had, like the Osbourns, sought 
 this particular city for business reasons. The naval 
 people formed a charming and quite independent 
 circle of their own but Eleanor was often invited 
 to their luncheons and dinners. Not far from her 
 home was a large boarding-house, conducted by a 
 Southern gentlewoman and thronged by agreeable 
 people from the North. Eleanor knew most of these 
 slightly. But of the Southern neighbors only a very 
 few had called, and those had greatly pleased and 
 attracted her, by their low voices, gentle breeding, 
 and air of dignified reticence. 
 
 Close by, in a home that like her own, stood 
 within a walled garden, was a family of whom she 
 had occasional glimpses, a mother and two maiden 
 daughters. The mother, a slender white haired 
 matron, sat in front of her in church, but she did not 
 recall ever observing the other ladies in her company. 
 
 "Aunt Polly," she inquired, "who are those 
 ladies next door?" 
 
 "Miss Eleanor," answered the old cook with a 
 twinkle in her eye, " dey s de bluest blooded people 
 in dis town, but dey don t sociate wif any one." 
 
 "Do they never go out?" 
 
 "Miss Dora and Miss Clemmie, dey hasn t been 
 outside de gate by daylight in more n twenty years. 
 Dey creeps out sometimes after dark." 
 
 "How very strange!"
 
 SOME OF THE NEIGHBORS 89 
 
 " Yas m," said Aunt Polly, "dey bowed deir heads 
 befo the storm, dey did," the old woman went on. 
 "Miss Clemmie and Miss Dora was bof proud. 
 When dey brother did somefin wrong, and people 
 knew, and he ran away, dey never look de world in 
 de face again. Old Miss Mary, dey all s mother was 
 not so proud. Dey was like the Pomfrets; she was 
 a Hayes." 
 
 Aunt Polly had a queer feeling of jealousy for this 
 young Northern mistress. In her heart, the black 
 woman had a sort of respect for Southern ladies that 
 she did not give their Northern sisters. She was 
 afraid that Mrs. Osbourn might be snubbed, and she 
 was always on the watch to keep her from treading 
 on dangerous ground. To any one who understood 
 it the by-play was well worth watching. 
 
 Aunt Polly reiterated, " De ole lady a Hayes, 
 Miss Eleanor, and de young ladies is Pomfrets froo 
 and froo." 
 
 As Eleanor knew nothing of the family traits of 
 either the Hayes or the Pomfret connection, this did 
 not mean much to her, but she determined to effect 
 an entrance into that closed castle if she could. She 
 took a plate of dainty confectionery in her hand, 
 covered it with her finest napkin, and waylaid the 
 old lady as she came home from her marketing. 
 
 "Pardon me, Mrs. Pomfret," she said. "May 
 I take a neighbor s privilege, and offer you some 
 of my cakes ? " 
 
 " How very nice they look; " the old lady beamed 
 graciously, " but you will be robbing yourself." 
 
 "Oh not at all; please take the plate home with 
 you, if it isn t too much to add to your basket."
 
 90 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 " The basket is not heavy, dear. Our little wants 
 are soon supplied." 
 
 The next morning, Aunt Polly with eyes as big as 
 saucers, came in bringing waffles hot from the fire, 
 which Mrs. Pomfret had sent over by a dusky little 
 barefoot maid, for the lady s breakfast, and as a 
 return of the compliment. 
 
 It came to pass that these women, who received 
 almost no visitors, and who went nowhere, unbarred 
 their doors and their hearts to Eleanor, and she 
 would slip over the lawn in the morning, a bit 
 of needlework in her hand, to sit with them and sew. 
 They did just two things, or perhaps three, and 
 these three they had been doing without interruption 
 for twenty years. The roses had gone from their 
 cheeks, and the youth from their eyes, as they had 
 sat day by day working scripture scenes, and flower 
 pieces in worsted on canvas, in tent stitch and cross 
 stitch. The house was full of their handiwork. To 
 Eleanor it seemed as if they had distilled their very 
 souls drop by drop at the point of a needle, over this 
 wasteful and useless work, which they never sold, 
 or exhibited, or gave away; by which they simply 
 killed time. When they had spent a certain number 
 of hours at their work, they laid it by and read 
 Plutarch s lives, and Rollin s Ancient History. 
 
 "Of course my dear, we read our Bibles, in our 
 own rooms every morning and evening, as all gentle 
 women do," said Miss Clemmie, "but our father 
 used to advise us to improve our minds with history, 
 and we read these books over and over. No, I thank 
 you, we prefer not to dissipate our powers with any 
 thing modern. Mother now, likes a story," as if
 
 SOME OF THE NEIGHBORS 91 
 
 mother were a child to be indulged, " if you wish to 
 lend her something, you may, we ll not object." 
 
 They grew very fond of Eleanor, and watched for 
 her visits, excusing to one another their interest, and 
 saying that if she had belonged to the place, they 
 could not accept her friendship, but as she was a 
 stranger and probably a sojourner there was no harm. 
 Nevertheless it brightened them to emerge even in 
 this little trembling way from the seclusion in which 
 they had long been buried, and they learned to know 
 as much of Eleanor s life as she was willing to reveal. 
 Only the externals though. 
 
 For example, there was the dinner party that came 
 so near shipwreck, a keen mortification at the mo 
 ment, but an amusing episode as years went by, and 
 it receded into the opaline haze of memory. 
 
 Money was not so plenty as it had been. Eleanor 
 had never before felt the pinch of poverty, the misery 
 of not being able to pay a bill when it is presented, the 
 embarrassment of having nothing for current ex 
 penses. In her girlhood s home there was always 
 enough though no great surplus and, without display 
 there had been real comfort. She thought of this when 
 Kathleen was with her, and she observed the ease of 
 her mind, her mother s pocketbook, sufficiently sup 
 plied, Kathleen s wardrobe, so nicely stocked with 
 little things, gloves, ribbons, shoes, the finishings of 
 a lady s wardrobe. She had been rigidly trained 
 never to disturb capital, and so her little investments, 
 bringing occasional small dividends, did not help her 
 out. 
 
 Harry explained elaborately that he had to wait 
 long for his funds, that fees came in slowly, and that
 
 92 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 settlements were never prompt. Meanwhile he gave 
 her leave to buy all she wanted on credit, saying that 
 he would pay the bills. 
 
 But when she saw his face darken over these very 
 bills, and heard him repeat wonderingly this and the 
 other item, she stopped buying on credit and did 
 without. To her confusion, her husband was at 
 once lavish and penurious. He would buy for her 
 quantities of things she did not need or want, and 
 send her two gowns at once, or present her with ex 
 pensive toys, such as lace fans or carved ivory chess 
 men, when she was wearing shabby shoes. Life 
 was a good deal of a strain to poor Eleanor. Things 
 grew sordid. 
 
 She forgot part of the strain when she sat in the 
 placid little rose-perfumed parlor of the Pomfrets, 
 fragrant with the potpourri of many a summer, and 
 saw the story of the Sleeping Beauty enacted before 
 her eyes. She began to wonder and plan, how she 
 should yet find some wandering Prince and present 
 him to Miss Clemmie or Miss Dora, neither of whom 
 would have looked at a Prince. 
 
 Meanwhile Harry urged her to give a dinner. 
 There were some army friends of his at the hotel. 
 They were there for only a few days, and he wished 
 to show them an attention. 
 
 " Let the dinner be very good indeed," he said, " I 
 want them to see that you know how to do things." 
 
 They had no accounts with butcher, baker or 
 market man. Here, Eleanor had insisted upon pay 
 ing as she went along, and Harry handed her an 
 extra amount for the bill of fare. 
 
 "Send Bob early to market," he said, "before the
 
 SOME OF THE NEIGHBORS 93 
 
 best things are picked over." Bob was a new boy, 
 who had temporarily taken William s place, William 
 being ill. 
 
 The soup, and the dessert were made ready the 
 day before, all but the ice-cream which Aunt Polly 
 compounded the last thing. When the day of the 
 party arrived it was so beautiful, that after planning 
 her dinner and arranging her house, Eleanor thought 
 she would ask old Mrs. Pomfret to go with her for a 
 drive. They went a good many miles, and the pony 
 cast a shoe; a blacksmith had to be found, and alto 
 gether they were late in returning. 
 
 "I ll have to hurry," she said. "I must set my 
 own table, and dress, but Aunt Polly s a host, she 11 
 have everything on time." 
 
 The old lady shook her head. "Dear, if I were 
 giving a dinner, I d not stir outside my door all day 
 long." 
 
 "Oh, mother never stayed at home when she ex 
 pected guests," said Eleanor lightly. "She thought 
 it made you so much fresher, to go out, and not to 
 worry over things." 
 
 Aunt Polly met her mistress with a face of despair. 
 
 " Miss Eleanor, that no-account Bob done gone and 
 never come back, since he went off this morning." 
 
 The markets were closed. It was now too late to 
 buy or cook a roast. No chickens were to be had 
 at that hour for broiling. 
 
 Eleanor looked up at the clock. Eight people com 
 ing to dine by express invitation and nothing to set 
 before them but clear soup, a salad and ice cream. 
 Harry would be so vexed; she felt so mortified. Her 
 chagrin brought tears to her eyes.
 
 94 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 Bob never did appear, and he and the ten dollar 
 bill he had carried to market were lost in the limbo 
 of vanished articles from that day on. 
 
 " Aunt Polly," said the little mistress, " you ve got 
 to conjure up a dinner. There s nothing else to do. 
 Please help me out." 
 
 Aunt Polly rose to the occasion. 
 
 "You Bill," she called to her husband, who was 
 nodding by her kitchen fire, "you go straight off 
 somewhere and ketch some fish. Or get some fish 
 somehow. Miss Eleanor say she pay for them twice 
 over. Get spots, Bill, quick." 
 
 "Spots "were peculiarly delicate and toothsome 
 and every evening the fishermen brought boats laden 
 with them, to the city wharves. Aunt Polly knew 
 how to cook them appetizingly, so that they were a 
 feast. 
 
 " But what am I to do for a roast ? " 
 
 Aunt Polly could offer no advice. She had vege 
 tables on, bubbling away on the stove, but a roast of 
 meat, or fowl, was beyond her. 
 
 "1 shall forage," said the lady of the house with 
 decision. "Or I shall borrow. I m going over to 
 borrow from those people in the house at the corner. 
 I don t know them, but I ll state the extremity." 
 
 "Honey, don t," pleaded Aunt Polly, but Eleanor 
 was firm. " Mrs. Moore won t let you tell her." 
 
 "I smell something very savory coming from that 
 kitchen," she announced. 
 
 Aunt Polly trembled as her mistress proceeded to 
 call on the neighbors who occupied the big house. 
 
 To a less direct and less desperate person the 
 situation would have been confusing, for as Eleanor
 
 SOME OF THE NEIGHBORS 95 
 
 went up the walk to their porch her unknown 
 neighbors were grouped on their veranda. The 
 oldest lady in the circle came forward to meet 
 her, and the men in the party rose, and remained 
 standing until she passed around the corner with 
 their mother. 
 
 " That s Harry Osbourn s wife," said one of them. 
 
 " She s very charming," commented the other. 
 
 " But it is impertinent to say the least, her calling 
 here/ remarked one of the young girls, who heard 
 with surprise Eleanor s modest request for an inter 
 view with her mother. 
 
 "Don t say that, sister Hattie, you don t know," 
 the brother interposed. 
 
 He was touched by Eleanor s self-possession and 
 divined some sort of dilemma. All good men are 
 compassionate when women need a lift. 
 
 Meanwhile, as simply as if she had been making 
 an explanation to her own mother at home, Eleanor 
 related the story of the day s absurd catastrophe to a 
 woman and a housewife whom she had never seen 
 before. The lady was a very pronounced foe of all 
 Northerners, she would have said she despised them 
 root and branch, but she had a woman s and a house 
 wife s heart. Also she was a Virginian, bred up in 
 the traditions of Southern hospitality. 
 
 " My child, 1 quite understand," said Mrs. Moore. 
 "Don t tell me any more. Providentially I have a fine 
 pair of roast chickens just done to a turn, 1 will send 
 them over to you. My family can dine without them. 
 We of course have a ham in the house. I am thank 
 ful you came to me. It must be hard for one who 
 does not know Southern negroes to accommodate
 
 96 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 herself to them. You did very wrong to trust that 
 boy Bob with so much money. But go home and 
 put on a pretty gown and don t give the matter an 
 other thought. You say you have everything else 
 right for your dinner, dear ? That is well. You were 
 very wise to come to me." 
 
 The amazed group on the piazza, were still more 
 stupefied to see their mother take a cordial leave of 
 the guest and to hear her say at parting, 
 
 " My daughters and I will call on you soon! " 
 
 "Mother!" exclaimed the elder daughter as she 
 quietly returned to the circle. 
 
 "You heard what I said, my dear. That young 
 woman is a perfect lady. We will call on her to 
 morrow." 
 
 The dinner passed off without a hitch and not even 
 Harry suspected that his wife had endured her own 
 tribulations over it. 
 
 The Moores proved later an acquisition. Through 
 the acquaintance formed in this unconventional 
 fashion the Osbourns were introduced to an ex 
 clusive and courtly set of people whom they would 
 not otherwise have met; people of a refinement and 
 cordiality which made intercourse with them most 
 satisfactory.
 
 X 
 
 AUNT POLLY S MORALS 
 
 WITHOUT Aunt Polly, Eleanor would have 
 been much like a ship without a helm. 
 She was a perfect tower of defense in 
 some phases of her nature. In others, Polly was 
 rather a puzzle; for while her piety was undoubted, 
 her notions of honesty in little things were vague, 
 and though she coddled Eleanor, and was more than 
 assiduous in waiting on her, hand and foot, she was 
 very severe and even cruel to her own children, of 
 whom she had three. This latter peculiarity was 
 frequently seen in the colored people. They 
 disciplined their children severely, yet no one could 
 doubt their fondness for them, and Eleanor learned 
 at last to bear with fortitude the wails that came 
 from the kitchen when Aunt Polly was in a mood to 
 administer punishment. The children were jolly 
 little beings, and throve apace, not much disturbed 
 by their mother s summary method of knocking them 
 over with a stick from the woodpile when she was 
 angry. 
 
 " Pray, Eleanor, how many people live in our 
 kitchen ? " said Harry one morning standing by the 
 window and looking out. It was earlier than usual, 
 and he was shaving with the blind drawn up. 
 
 "Bill, and Polly, and Ada, Frederick and Jake. 
 You know, don t you, Harry ? " 
 
 97
 
 98 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 " Well, come and peep out." 
 
 They counted eight grown persons and five chil 
 dren, who crept stealthily forth into the daylight, and 
 went their several ways. 
 
 " Harry, it can t be possible that our kitchen, with 
 the two little rooms above it, sheltered that crowd 
 over night." 
 
 "We ll watch to-rnorrow morning, if we re 
 awake," said Harry. "They may come again." 
 
 They did watch for successive mornings. A vary 
 ing number of black people left the premises every 
 day in the early light, evidently having slept there. 
 They stole away as silent as shadows. 
 
 When Eleanor questioned Aunt Polly on the 
 matter she was confronted by an appearance of 
 offended innocence, little short of majestic. 
 
 " Yo shorely is dreamin , Miss Eleanor. Not one 
 soul eber sleeps here, cept my old man, de chillun 
 and me." 
 
 "I tell you, Aunt Polly, I saw them. I was not 
 dreaming. I was awake and dressing." 
 
 "La, honey, you done get up too soon," declared 
 Aunt Polly. " Dis place sure is haunted. If you see 
 anybody you done see ghosts and harnts, and if it 
 discontinues, Aunt Polly ll light out, Miss Eleanor. 
 Couldn t stay in no place wif harnts." 
 
 Eleanor concluded to be conveniently blind there 
 after. 
 
 Car line, the second maid, was Aunt Polly s niece. 
 She was pretty and trim, about Eleanor s build and 
 height, with graceful bearing and correct speech, a 
 well-trained lady s maid. When Eleanor discovered 
 that Car line quite often surreptitiously borrowed
 
 AUNT POLLT S MORALS 99 
 
 her handkerchiefs and petticoats to wear to the 
 colored folk s parties, she was naturally indignant 
 and as any Northern mistress would, decided that 
 Car line should be dismissed on very short notice. 
 
 "Please, Miss Eleanor," remonstrated Aunt Polly, 
 "don t send pore Car line away. I ll reason with 
 her, and she won t do you that way again. I know 
 she s done behaved shameful, but she s like a child, 
 Car line is, and I ll see that she never touches none of 
 your clothes any more. She d ought to know 
 clothes ain t like sugar and flour. Any lady ll let her 
 servants hab what dey need of dem things, but 
 Car line s most extraordinary bad, she is, and too 
 triflin ." 
 
 Aunt Polly s reasoning with her niece was enforced 
 by a vigorous stamp of her foot, and a good many 
 threats. 
 
 "You pore silly no account triflin gal, why you 
 do Miss Eleanor so, and get yo self found out ? If 
 you do any such fool-things again, I ll tell Sis Clara 
 and Brer Ezekiel and you ll be turned out ob church. 
 Den where ll you be, pore sinner ? Hab you nebber 
 heard bout de Jedgement Day when de books are 
 opened, Car line?" 
 
 At this Car line was properly dismayed, and prom 
 ised to mend her ways, and kept her word. 
 
 " Please, Aunt Polly, don t you tell mammy, nor 
 Brer Zekel," she entreated. 
 
 "Den, Car line, you walk straight, and doan t you 
 dare do Miss Eleanor dat way no mo . What yo 
 trouble her clothes fo anyhow, chile ?" 
 
 Car line laughed and tossed her head. 
 
 "I want to look nice when I go to a party, " she said.
 
 ioo ELEANOR LEE 
 
 Uncle Bill took his pipe out of his mouth. "When 
 you go dance with Robert, you mean? You better 
 let Robert Bruce alone, Car line. He s too old foryo . 
 He ll not let you go to parties any mo ." 
 
 "I ll marry Robert," she said, "and then nobody 
 won t ever dare to trouble me no mo ." 
 
 She did marry Robert before many weeks, a man 
 twice her age but much admired by the colored elite 
 of the place. He was a waiter at the hotel, making 
 good wages, a man whose manners were perfect, 
 modelled as they were, on those of the elegant peo 
 ple who had raised him, in Amelia County, "before 
 the war." Car line, flighty, silly, coquettish, unscru 
 pulous, became Robert s wife, and the two went to 
 housekeeping in a little cabin near enough Eleanor s 
 home, to permit Car line s remaining for a time 
 in her service. Even after a roly-poly dumpling 
 of a chocolate-colored baby came, Car line, not very 
 much sobered, continued to come daily, to perform 
 her work in Eleanor s home, stealing and borrowing 
 no longer, for Robert would not hear of it. He was 
 thrifty and honorable, and exacted good behavior of 
 his wife. 
 
 One day, but this was months after, she came in a 
 burst of tears to Eleanor, all her bright prettiness 
 blotted, her eyes swollen, her baby boy in her arms. 
 
 " Whatever has happened ?" exclaimed Eleanor. 
 
 "Has Robert done beat you, honey?" cried Aunt 
 Polly. 
 
 " Robert s first wife has come back," said Car line. 
 "He allow he can t tek care of two wives, so he s 
 done sent me out of the house. I don t mind so 
 much, Miss Eleanor, but I don t want that ole field
 
 AUNT POLLT S MORALS 101 
 
 hand to use all my things, and she can t hab my 
 baby nohow." 
 
 From that day, Car line was domiciled with her 
 boy in Aunt Polly s kitchen. Aunt Polly declared 
 there was room and to spare for both. 
 
 Long ago, when Robert was a young man, he had 
 fallen in love with and married a girl in a neighbor 
 ing plantation. They had been properly wedded, 
 and the mistress had given the wedding party that 
 was so much prized by the servants on a great estate. 
 The death of her owner had been followed by the 
 sale of his slaves, and Robert s wife had been sold 
 to Georgia. She went away, a young, slim, pretty 
 girl; she tramped back, when the war was over, a 
 footsore, old, weary, homely woman, but she had 
 not forgotten Robert. 
 
 As he sat by his fire one windy night, his child on 
 his knee, Car line on the floor at his feet, the door 
 was pushed open, and without a word of preparation, 
 Miranda walked in. He knew her on the instant, as 
 she knew him. On the instant he made his choice. 
 
 "Good-bye, Car line," he said rising. " Take your 
 child and go. This is my wife. I m sorry, Car line, 
 but you are young and handsome. You can find an 
 other husband soon. Miranda s old. She can t ever 
 find anybody but me. Marry a boy next time, 
 Car line. Good-bye." 
 
 From that hour, Robert was all devotion to Miranda, 
 who repaid him by making him far more comforta 
 ble than Car line had. Her fried chicken and hominy 
 were much better than Car line s. But Robert had 
 something chivalrous in him, that took her side. 
 Notwithstanding that she was an incomparable cook,
 
 102 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 he did not let her go out to work. He worked for 
 her, and he recommended Car line as a wife to some 
 one else. The morality of the negroes in those early 
 days of emancipation was a nebulous quantity. 
 They had no standards. The wonder was that there 
 was honor, purity, or goodness among them at all. 
 To play fast and loose with marriage they thought 
 no crime. 
 
 This very Robert had been intrusted with a large 
 sum of money to carry across country, when the 
 roads were infested with thieves, and violence was 
 common. It was sent by his young master dying 
 away from home, to his mother, who had been 
 Robert s owner. At great risk, the colored man had 
 brought the package safely to his mistress, and had 
 told her where to find the family silver, which he 
 had himself buried in one of the fields when the 
 armies of North and South were chasing each other 
 across the old home pasture lands. 
 
 There was faithfulness in these people, to an ideal 
 of right which they understood, but they lacked fine 
 distinctions and had most confused ideas on many 
 points, particularly of the common things in daily 
 use. 
 
 As for truth they seldom had the faintest notion of 
 its importance, they said whatever came handy at the 
 moment and did not mind a scaffolding of lies if it 
 served their purpose.
 
 XI 
 
 KATHLEEN 
 
 " TT ~W" OW I do wish there had been eight of us 
 
 I 1 instead of only two!" sighed Kathleen, 
 
 JL JL throwing herself into an attitude of mock 
 despair. " Mother, it is the greatest mistake to have 
 a small family! 1 shall never stop missing Eleanor." 
 
 " Yet, dear, you have your friends and your needle 
 work guild, and your studies and music; I think you 
 have interests enough." 
 
 Kathleen was a modern girl, who kept up her 
 studies of art and literature, in classes and at lectures, 
 and whose charities occupied a large part of her time. 
 Her mother thought her an extremely busy person. 
 
 "Mother, darling, nobody whom I meet is like my 
 sister. Does it not strike you that we see her very 
 seldom ? Why is she so determined never to leave 
 her home ? When I have a husband, he shall not 
 monopolize me, as Harry does Eleanor. I ll begin 
 differently. See if I don t." 
 
 Mrs. Lee smiled. The two sisters, absolutely de 
 voted to one another as they were, had a good deal 
 of unlikeness. Kathleen s point of view and Elea 
 nor s were seldom the same. 
 
 "I don t like Nellie s letters. I want herself," in 
 sisted the one who was still a girl at home, going to 
 the piano and dashing into a brilliant sonata. 
 
 She wrote to Eleanor almost daily, giving the gos- 
 103
 
 104 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 sip of Islington, and the little home items that were 
 sure to be welcome. Eleanor sent her in return long 
 chatty letters, often bright and always entertaining, 
 but Kathleen read between the lines, and sometimes 
 they seemed open as the day and again were curi 
 ously impersonal and secretive. Of the neighbors, 
 Eleanor had a great deal to say and of the funny 
 and quaint ways of the colored people, but she 
 avoided so far as she could the subject of her home, 
 and Kathleen was quick to note that she did not 
 very often allude to Harry. 
 
 When Eleanor s birthday came, it was the home 
 custom to send her a box, containing a number of 
 gifts ; something to look at, a picture or a bit of china, 
 something to eat, bon-bons and a fruit cake, something 
 to wear, jewelry or lace, something to read, the last 
 new book. Ever so much love and tender thought 
 went into Eleanor s birthday box, and Mrs. Lee spent 
 weeks in getting it ready. Kathleen did her share, 
 but, after her visit to Eleanor, it was impressed on 
 her inner consciousness, that they must send money 
 too. Her mother debated the question. Harry might 
 not be pleased. It might be considered indelicate. 
 Thanks to Donald Waugh s wise care of their finances 
 the Lees were now in easy circumstances. 
 
 "No, mother, dearest," said Kathleen, "a timely 
 gift of money between relatives is not open to criti 
 cism. There are so many ways to use money, Elea 
 nor has her poor people, if she doesn t need it her 
 self and I don t believe she ll mention it to Harry! " 
 
 "Kathleen! You surprise me. Why a wife nat 
 urally tells her husband every single thing." 
 
 "It depends, mother. You did. I may. But
 
 KATHLEEN 105 
 
 Nellie doesn t. I m not easy in my mind about her 
 or Harry either." 
 
 " 1 cannot imagine why. But I ll send the child a 
 hundred dollars. I wish I d done it sooner. I can 
 spare it as well as not." 
 
 Kathleen was about to explain why, but pulled 
 herself up in time. It would serve no good purpose 
 to alarm and unsettle the little mother. But oh! 
 how it weighed upon Kathleen. For the glory of 
 life had dawned for her, and she was even at the 
 moment hesitating how she should decide, when, 
 certain words she could not longer stave off having 
 been spoken, she must say yes or no to an old, old 
 question ever new in the history of man and woman. 
 
 "I would rather be an old maid than a disappointed 
 wife," she said, as she put on her dimity gown, and 
 the ribbon that Dick Deland thought matched her eyes, 
 and went down to the drawing-room to receive him. 
 
 On the hall table lay a long letter from Eleanor. 
 Dick pacing up and down waiting for his sweetheart, 
 little thought that his fate was wavering in the bal 
 ance, as Kathleen slipped into the library to read 
 what her sister had written. Fortunately for Dick, 
 Eleanor had been in a mood of hope and joy when 
 she sent that letter. Harry had been so long his own 
 best self, that her fears were allayed. He had won a 
 difficult case, and taken a brief for a railroad in an 
 other of much importance. Not in a long while 
 had the world been so bright and home so cloudless 
 for Eleanor. She had promised too, that if nothing 
 happened, she would make a visit to Islington soon, 
 and stay over the Waugh-Dunmore wedding. Kath 
 leen was so pleased that she trod on air, and that
 
 io6 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 evening Richard Deland left her with her promise 
 that she would marry him. 
 
 Kathleen was of softer fibre than Eleanor. She 
 could not have lived and borne what Eleanor had en 
 dured in silence and wifely dignity; she must have 
 cried out; she would probably have died. The petted 
 younger daughter had less stubborn tenacity to bear 
 and suffer than had Eleanor, but, on the other hand, 
 she had possibly swifter sympathy and readier insight. 
 But she had as yet little toleration for the tempted or 
 the tried, having no experience and only the back 
 ground of a beautifully happy life in a beautifully 
 peaceful home. 
 
 "Dick!" she astonished her lover by saying im 
 pulsively after she had accepted him. " There is 
 something 1 forgot. But you are Islington born, so 
 it isn t very likely that you have any bad habits. I 
 want to know that you do not drink liquor, any sort, 
 except of course water, and tea and coffee ?" 
 
 Dick laughed outright. It was as good as a play, 
 he thought, to see Kathleen s solemn face and hear 
 her ask him about his temperance principles. 
 
 "My mother, Miss Kathleen Lee, is President of 
 the Islington Woman s Christian Temperance Union, 
 and I was born in the stronghold of total abstinence." 
 
 " I am not asking about your mother, Richard, but 
 about your own self. I have very strong convictions 
 as you know on this point." 
 
 " Darling, I have never tasted an intoxicant in my 
 life. I have never so much as smoked a cigar. I 
 never intend to. Does this satisfy you ? " 
 
 " Yes," she said, simply. " It relieves me." 
 
 The weather was cold and a fire of soft coal glowed
 
 KATHLEEN 107 
 
 in the grate, the flames leaping red and golden, and 
 hissing with a homely sibilant sound which was like 
 a musical accompaniment to the low-toned talk of 
 the lovers. 
 
 Richard stood up straight and looked down at 
 Kathleen, who sat in a little rocking-chair that she 
 was fond of. It had been her great-grandmother s 
 chair and now belonged to the latest namesake of 
 that fair dame, a Kathleen Jenks, who in her day had 
 played with hearts, but whose benignant counte 
 nance among the family portraits, was not that of a 
 coquette. 
 
 " I would as soon thrust my hand into that bed of 
 coals," he said, "as to take one step deliberately on 
 a road that might lead to the loss of my will-power. 
 Might, not that I necessarily think it would. I be 
 lieve 1 have a good deal of strength, but I should 
 never dare to do what might lead a weaker brother to 
 offend. Why, Kathleen, temperance is in my blood, 
 in my training. It s queer, your making a point of 
 this. Why not enjoin me not to be a thief?" 
 
 "I have seen trouble in friends homes, and have 
 suspected it where I did not see, so I thought I d 
 speak now," answered Kathleen. 
 
 Could they have penetrated by any X-ray, the veil 
 that drops between us and those a little way off, 
 could they have gone a twelve hours distance by 
 train, they might have had a demonstration of the 
 misery that this one evil, too often condoned, too 
 often slurred over in society, can bring to pass in a 
 home. A commonplace sin, and a commonplace 
 wreck and heartbreak. God pity those who know 
 it from within.
 
 io8 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 Cold weather had sharpened the air in the Virginian 
 town, and the last of the flowers that had lingered 
 bravely blooming, even after some touches of frost, 
 lay withered on the ground. Eleanor had pre 
 pared an inviting supper, and the house with its 
 shaded lamps was as attractive as wifely taste could 
 make it. All round the parlor were low bookcases 
 filled with volumes old and new. The easy-chairs 
 were drawn up to the table, and the very look of the 
 room breathed peace and rest. Harry was late, but 
 Eleanor was used to this, for a client would drop in 
 after hours, or her husband be detained. She felt no 
 solicitude. For the first time in months, her anxiety 
 had taken flight, the edge of worry was dulled. Just 
 then the bolt fell. 
 
 She heard a step on the veranda, surely not 
 Harry s, a step that shuffled and stumbled. She 
 heard a fumbling at the latch-key. She sprang and 
 opened the door. Muttering and grumbling Harry 
 entered, and as he put out one hand to steady him 
 self, he sought with the other to draw his wife 
 to him for their evening kiss. She withdrew herself. 
 At that instant the sickening revulsion of feeling was 
 so great she could not kiss him. He turned angrily 
 away, closed the door, and went out into the gather 
 ing storm. 
 
 " Harry! " she called. "Harry!" 
 
 But there was no answer. 
 
 She sent Aunt Polly s Bill out to follow him and 
 bring him back, but Bill returned saying, " The 
 night done swallow him up." 
 
 So again, as often in the past, Eleanor sat down to 
 a lonely supper. Harry stumbled back after awhile,
 
 KATHLEEN 109 
 
 the worse for his going, He wandered about the 
 garden, and sat on the porch, refusing to come in. 
 Eleanor wrapped her cloak around her, went to him, 
 coaxed, besought, entreated, and at last succeeded in 
 getting him safe behind the barricade of the door. 
 Once more she was grateful that their home stood 
 alone, encircled by a wall, and that darkness in its 
 friendly cover could hide the shame of their lives 
 from view. 
 
 At midnight she sent Bill for the doctor. Harry 
 was raving, and she could do nothing for him. In 
 utter agony of prayer, she threw herself at the foot 
 of her bed, and called upon God to save. It is 
 written that the Kingdom of Heaven suffereth 
 violence and the violent take it by force. In her 
 passion of supplication that night, Eleanor stormed 
 heaven s gate and would not rise, till she had an 
 answer of peace. 
 
 The answer came. Long after the doctor had 
 gone, assuring her that the worst was over, and long 
 after Harry slept, Eleanor continued in prayer. Once 
 she stopped all words, her soul lifted up its call 
 without their help. Once, in the middle of her 
 prayer to God, she stopped, and put out her hands 
 with a child s cry, "Oh! mother, mother, come to 
 me, your poor little girl." She wanted the human 
 touch, the mother-love. 
 
 But suddenly, an arrest came upon her vehemence. 
 As if a soft hand had been laid on her, she was 
 soothed, as if a voice spoke, she was satisfied. 
 
 "Daughter," said One, who still speaks as never 
 man spake, "thy faith hath saved thee. Go in 
 peace."
 
 XII 
 
 A LETTER 
 
 TO receive a letter from Donald Waugh, and 
 a long one, was an incident to awaken 
 wonder. Eleanor s letters were brought 
 from the post-office morning and evening. As she 
 sat alone at breakfast, the morning after her tempest 
 tossed night, the mail was handed her, and on 
 top was an envelope addressed in Donald Waugh s 
 massive script. His writing was like his character, 
 bold, aggressive, foursquare. In her girlhood, Elea 
 nor had often had notes from him, and occasionally 
 since her marriage, he had written her on one or 
 another tlvme. The present letter was bulky and 
 long, and she saw that there had been in his mind 
 some good reason for writing it. Donald was never 
 gallant nor complimentary, and, in this hour of 
 her helplessness, she thought with a new sense 
 of gratitude, that he was her friend for all time, 
 a friend as uncompromising as destiny, and as stead 
 fast as a rock. 
 
 "You know, Eleanor," he began, "that I am very 
 soon to be married. You know me, and you know 
 Mattie, so that I may speak to you with the most en 
 tire freedom. I love Mattie with my whole heart. I 
 have learned to reverence her goodness, her truth, 
 her perfect honesty and nobleness. She is incapable 
 of guile; a woman fit to walk beside a man as 
 
 no
 
 A LErrER in 
 
 his equal and comrade, and to raise his stand 
 ards, and hold him to the best that is possible for 
 him to be and do. You will, I am sure, give 
 both of us your best wishes, and 1 am writing 
 this to-day because I want you and your husband 
 to come to my wedding. I am making it a friend s 
 request. 
 
 "1 am not a man of intuitive perceptions, Eleanor, 
 and I have always been a blunderer, for that reason. 
 Now I don t want to blunder in what I am saying on 
 this occasion. I have been aware of some things 
 which our Islington people have not suspected, and 
 which your own dear mother does not dream that I 
 have discovered. Indeed, God bless her, she does 
 not herself dream of things that have become patent 
 to me. Never mind how I have found out what you 
 would prefer to keep concealed. Since the day your 
 father died I have constituted myself your guardian 
 in my own mind, and latterly have been as an elder 
 brother, and have felt that you and Kathleen had 
 a brother s claim on me. Whatever success I have 
 achieved in the world I owe largely to Judge Lee, 
 who wielded immense influence over me in the 
 formative period of my life. He was as a father 
 to me when my own father died. Eleanor, pardon 
 me if I am officious or intrusive, but you are in some 
 trouble, and I want to help you. The Lord tempers 
 the wind to the shorn lamb. " 
 
 In a gleam of memory, Eleanor, as she read this 
 sentence, saw herself and Donald standing, one 
 on either side of her father as he rested in his last 
 sleep. She recalled the impulsive, hot-tempered girl 
 who resented the comfort offered in the stiff, pe-
 
 j 12 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 dantic phrase, stiff, and pedantic not so much in 
 itself, as on Donald s lips. Where was that girl ? 
 Not here. Not in the quiet, controlled, disciplined 
 woman who, reading, smiled in spite of herself, and 
 went calmly on to the next words. 
 
 "Your husband is an able lawyer, a brilliant, effi 
 cient man, handicapped by one terrible habit which is 
 sure to increase rather than to abate its power over 
 him. You and he cannot fight this thing out alone. 
 There is still a fighting chance for his freedom. I am 
 not writing in the dark, Eleanor. I have sought and 
 obtained information. Your husband must be saved. 
 To this end, he must leave his present environment, 
 leave a place where social drinking is the fashion, 
 and an occasional lapse loses no man caste: must be 
 brought somewhere near strong, true friends. I 
 think your Southern experiment, of which I never 
 approved," here Eleanor again smiled this was 
 characteristic, indeed, " should come to an end. 
 Return to your own people, and your own town. 
 Islington is growing. It will soon be a great city. I 
 can offer inducements to your husband, legitimate 
 business inducements, which ought to decide him to 
 drop all that he has or may hereafter have, where he 
 is, and settle here. That you may be altogether at 
 ease, I will state that not another soul in Islington, 
 except myself, has any knowledge of anything 
 prejudicial to Mr. Osbourn. As a valiant officer in 
 the Union army, who made a good record, he will be 
 welcomed with open arms. I shall presently place 
 my proposition before him in the appropriate shape, 
 and I count on you to persuade him to accept what I 
 offer, in the spirit in which the offer is made. Your
 
 A LETTER 113 
 
 father s daughter may trust me, and so may that 
 daughter s husband." 
 
 With a few more expressions of earnest desire for 
 the welfare of Eleanor and Harry the letter closed: a 
 letter like Donald from beginning to end. Eleanor 
 read and re-read it; went to her desk and wrote a 
 short reply, sending her congratulations on the ap 
 proaching marriage, and adding, " If it is right for us 
 to return to Islington, I shall be only too happy to 
 turn my face there. I wait with an open mind. I 
 think my husband will not be averse to persua 
 sion." 
 
 She dropped Donald s letter in the grate, where she 
 had a handful of pine knots blazing. And for once 
 she thought with grateful affection of this staunch 
 friend of her entire life. Here was a true man. 
 
 But it was not in this way that God meant to save 
 Harry. 
 
 A woman so proud as Eleanor is instinctively ret 
 icent, and to have it forced upon her that the secret 
 she is fain to hide, is discovered by any mortal, is to 
 fill her with terror lest soon it may be bruited from 
 the house-tops. 
 
 Had a bird of the air carried the tidings? How 
 had Donald found out? Her mind went over the 
 question as if seeking gropingly for a clue to the 
 answer, but none came. Was there ever to be an 
 end to the wretchedness which had shattered her 
 ideal of home peace, as a rough wind breaks the 
 branches in its path ? Faith grew faint. Hope died 
 within her. We are contradictory beings made of 
 opposing qualities, and at the same moment in which 
 Eleanor was grateful to Donald she was deeply
 
 H4 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 poignantly and rebelliously regretful that she had 
 occasion for gratitude. 
 
 Then too she was losing hold of her belief in her 
 husband. If he could not do well in one place, why 
 should he in another ? She felt exhausted in the 
 struggle, as she sat by the blazing hearth. 
 
 She was still sitting by the fire, white and wan, 
 when the doctor, having paid his morning visit to 
 her husband above stairs, entered the room and took 
 a chair beside her. 
 
 "I must prescribe for you, Mrs. Osbourn," he said. 
 "You want a tonic." 
 
 "I suppose I need something, "she replied wearily. 
 " I feel somehow spent." 
 
 " What you really need more than anything else is 
 a change. Can you not run off a few days, and visit 
 your people at home ?" 
 
 "My husband cannot go at present. He has an 
 important case on, and must be in court every day of 
 the next fortnight. Doctor, will he be well enough 
 to be in court to-morrow ? A good deal depends 
 upon it." 
 
 "Yes, dear lady, I think so. It will be a pull, but 
 the necessity will give him nerve, and he is in no 
 danger of another breakdown at the moment. You 
 may safely leave him in my care." 
 
 " You are very good, doctor, our best friend, but 
 my mind is made up. I will never leave my husband 
 for so much as a day while there is the shadow of a 
 reason for thinking that my being by him can do 
 him any good." 
 
 The doctor rose and bowed over her hand. As he 
 did so, he said cheerily,
 
 A LETTER 115 
 
 "If love and truth and wifely faithfulness count 
 for anything, plus medical skill, you and I ought to 
 be able yet to extricate a splendid fellow from the 
 bog in which he is stuck fast, more s the pity. Rely 
 upon it, madam, I will stand by you to the last 
 ditch." 
 
 But this, too, was not God s way of saving Harry. 
 
 When, in the evening, Harry was out of bed and 
 dressed, and, as usual, in a collapse, depressed and 
 silent, his wife put aside his excuses and profuse 
 regrets. She tried to talk of everything except 
 themselves. 
 
 Presently he broke out, "Good heavens, Eleanor, if 
 you were to give me up altogether, I couldn t blame 
 you. I wonder you don t, when I think of the home 
 I took you from, and the sweetness of its life, and 
 realize what I ve plunged you into. I wonder you 
 don t fly from me as if I were the plague. Many 
 women would abandon such a wretch as I am with 
 out further parley. I m not worth your little finger, 
 dear, yet you stand by me still. I could kiss the hem 
 of your garment, but if you left me, you would be 
 within your rights." 
 
 "Harry!" exclaimed Eleanor, her cheek flushing, 
 "I never wish you to speak in this way again. 
 Whatever you are, whatever you do, you are my 
 husband. You and I are one in God s sight, and we 
 cannot be separated. I shall never stop loving you, 
 dear, and while I love you, I shall always live with 
 you, and I have never doubted for a second that you 
 love me. This calamity does not touch my love, 
 though it breaks my heart." 
 
 She knelt at his side, and looked at him with
 
 n6 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 mournful eyes. The man s heart was aching, too. 
 He lifted her gently up and stood by her side. 
 
 "As God is my witness, Eleanor, there must be a 
 way out. I vow that I will take the first step in it, 
 the instant He makes it plain to me. My dear wife, 
 try to trust me this time." 
 
 Eleanor s face was illumined with that inner light 
 that comes from unfaltering faith in God. 
 
 " We will trust our Father," she said.
 
 XIII 
 GOD S WAY 
 
 DR. ABBOTT was putting on overcoat and 
 gloves to go on his rounds, and his wife, 
 who hardly reached his shoulder, was help 
 ing him. By her intent and far-away look, the 
 doctor knew she was not thinking of him, so much 
 as of something in her mind, and as he knew most 
 of her thoughts through a rare sympathy, born of 
 long comradeship, he was prepared to hear her say 
 without preface, 
 
 " Hervey, I m going to make a call. I mean to have 
 a talk with that poor young thing, Mrs. Henry 
 Osbourn. It is my duty. Not one of us has really 
 helped her in her great trouble." 
 
 "I ve tried," said the doctor drily. 
 
 " Of course, and you are a great and constant help. 
 But she needs sympathy, and I must give it her, 
 tangible sympathy, dear." 
 
 "I d like to be behind the door when you try it. 
 You ll not succeed, my child. Of all the proud 
 women in this world of ours, the reserved, the 
 queenly, that little woman is the proudest, the most 
 reticent, the queenliest. She won t confide in you, 
 and she won t be pitied. I must be off. Don t wait 
 dinner for me, I ve a tremendously long round before 
 me." 
 
 "Wait one minute, dear. I m going there this 
 117
 
 n8 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 morning with a purpose. I shall invite her and her 
 husband to attend our revival meetings, and to begin 
 to-night." 
 
 Dr. Abbott threw back his head and laughed long 
 and heartily. 
 
 "You blessed old saint!" he returned. "They 
 won t go. They are Presbyterians. What on earth 
 should they do in a Methodist meeting ? What has 
 come over you, Emilie ? " 
 
 "I can t explain it, Hervey, but I ve been making 
 those two neighbors of ours the subject of constant, 
 urgent prayer for the last month. Sometimes I am 
 so moved by their necessity that I have to drop my 
 sewing and go off by myself, in the very middle of 
 the morning, and talk with God about them. Now, 
 you and 1 believe, and it is our comfort, that the 
 Spirit guides our intercessions. I know my prayer 
 has been heard: know it, mark you." She paused, 
 and went on calmly, "That man is just as much 
 saved this minute as you and I. The demon is to be 
 cast out of him completely. Is cast out this very 
 instant." 
 
 "Temporarily, yes. But only to return with far 
 greater violence. Emilie Abbott, unless the Lord 
 works a miracle, Harry Osbourn must go down, 
 must end in the grave of the drunkard. And it 
 won t take very long. If it were not for a here 
 after, I d not be sorry. Then his wife would be 
 released." 
 
 " Does she not love him ?" 
 
 " Love him ? I should think so. With all her 
 brave heart. What good does that do ? It hasn t 
 influenced him."
 
 GOD S WAY 119 
 
 "It reflects Christ s love, Hervey. Now you 
 watch. The Lord does work miracles yet, can work 
 them whenever He chooses. We are so foolish to 
 fancy that He ever stopped working them, or only 
 did them in Galilee when He was here among the 
 disciples. I must not keep you standing with your 
 coat on." 
 
 The doctor went. The day was raw, but there 
 was a warm glow at his heart. He drove from 
 house to house: everywhere greeted as the physician 
 is with anxious affection, leaving in one and another 
 sick room a benediction; giving out virtue by his 
 very presence as his Master did. Somehow, that 
 Master was very real to Hervey Abbott that day. 
 
 "That wife of mine," he mused, "goes through 
 this world seeing the Christ as He was when here on 
 earth. Her hand is never out of His. I wonder if 
 she isn t in the right, and her religion a vital thing 
 because of it? She dwells in such sunshine, bless 
 her!" 
 
 Eleanor was suffering from reaction. Her skies 
 were veiled. "Though He slay me, yet will I trust 
 in Him," she exclaimed, but her buoyancy was gone. 
 She felt like an exhausted swimmer buffeting the 
 waves, and clinging at last with loosening hold to 
 the rope thrown from shore. More and more, she 
 secluded herself, lived in her home and her garden, 
 grateful for the brick wall and the privacy. She was 
 growing thin and white, and her eyes were large in 
 her sorrowful face. For Harry s sake she tried to be 
 cheerful, and with her whole soul, she sought to re 
 ceive each day as a new gift from God, and to be 
 delivered from fear of the morrow. But life was not
 
 120 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 easy. She was engaged this morning in something 
 nearly as unprofitable as foreboding. She was re 
 viewing the dreary past. For some of us, the best 
 wisdom is expressed in concrete form, when we 
 press on "forgetting the things which are behind." 
 The intervals between these sporadic outbreaks, 
 which swept her home like a cyclone, were growing 
 briefer. As she reflected, it was evident to her that 
 they were preceded by fewer danger signals. To 
 her thought, the demon pounced upon Harry, as a 
 beast springs from ambush, and Harry s resistance 
 was growing feebler. She was getting so tired; so 
 tired and worn out. Between the attacks, he was 
 the courteous gentleman. Following each excess, 
 when it was past, her husband suffered agonies of 
 shame and remorse. He almost grovelled in repent 
 ance. Over and over he begged her pardon. Over 
 and over called himself a brute, wished himself dead, 
 and out of her way. There were times when she 
 feared he might do some desperate thing, and so put 
 knife and pistol where they were beyond his reach. 
 Gradually she had so arranged the house that it 
 looked naked to her eye, though truly its simplicity 
 was restful. She thought it resembled a schooner 
 sailing under bare poles, for she had prudently 
 packed away the breakable ornaments. There had 
 been times when Harry s mood was one of mischief, 
 and bric-a-brac, china, and furniture went down be 
 fore him as chaff before the wind. It was living on 
 the crust of a volcano, this continual fretting strain, 
 and she was tired, tired. She longed for the relief of 
 speech to some one. But pride still forbade speech, 
 pride and indomitable wifely loyalty.
 
 GOD S WAY 121 
 
 Thus sitting alone in her morning room, with 
 its outlook on the desolate garden, thinking of the 
 past, feeling strength gone, the door opened and 
 without announcement, a little white-haired lady 
 came in. 
 
 " I wouldn t let Car line ask if you would see me, 
 dear. 1 walked straight in," she said. 
 
 "Mrs. Abbott?" 
 
 " Yes, dear, Dr. Abbott s old wife, who never 
 makes calls, but who knows you very well. I won t 
 beat about the bush, my child. 1 am here to be what 
 I can to you." 
 
 Eleanor drew herself up. But Mrs. Abbott took 
 no notice. 
 
 " You know, dear, our blessed Lord has His 
 messengers. He sent Ananias to Paul, you remem 
 ber ? Well, child, He s sent me to you. 1 want you 
 and your husband to do me a favor. Come with me 
 this evening at eight o clock to the little meeting a 
 few of us who love the Lord will hold in the Green 
 Street Methodist Church." 
 
 Eleanor looked her surprise. This was most 
 unconventional. 
 
 "Dear lady," she answered gently, " my husband 
 doesn t go to prayer-meeting. Not even in our own 
 church. I m sure he won t be persuaded." 
 
 "You ask him, dear." 
 
 " It won t be worth while." 
 
 "You ask him," the lady repeated. Her sweet, 
 old face was wistful and resolved. 
 
 Suddenly Eleanor melted. She was at the point of 
 breaking. She had repelled sympathy so long, that 
 she was as if encased in iron, but there was a
 
 122 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 motherly tenderness in Mrs. Abbott that she could 
 not withstand. It was as when the ice melts in 
 spring, the thaw swept all before it. 
 
 "You know about us, don t you, Mrs. Abbott? 
 You know what ails my Harry ?" 
 
 " Yes, dear child, 1 know." 
 
 "Do you know that there is nothing before him 
 but to grow worse and worse, and weaker and 
 weaker, till he dies, that we are losing everything, 
 that character and reputation, and all his moral sense, 
 all his manhood, must go down in this wreck? Oh, 
 Mrs. Abbott, do you know ? " 
 
 "My child, I know. And I know another thing. 
 That there is hope, and that he may be saved. That 
 there are glad days before you, yet." 
 
 Mrs. Abbott spoke with a tranquil assurance that 
 was balm to Eleanor s heartache. A light beamed on 
 her darkness. The clouds were lifting. But she only 
 answered, 
 
 " Dr. Abbott does not think so." 
 
 "Never mind Dr. Abbott. Other men as far on 
 the rough downhill road as your husband, have been 
 saved, and yours shall be. But by no earthly means. 
 By no mere human hands. If your husband gives 
 himself to Christ, Christ will take the desire away, 
 as well as reinforce the faltering will. Dear child, I 
 know. I have been praying for you both, by night 
 and day, for weeks and weeks. I am sure he will 
 rise to a new manhood." 
 
 When Harry came to dinner, Eleanor rather timidly 
 preferred her request that he would go with her that 
 evening to the Methodist prayer-meeting. She half 
 expected a refusal, but she had promised Mrs. Abbott
 
 GOD S WAY 123 
 
 that she would ask. Harry showed neither surprise 
 nor reluctance. 
 
 "Why, of course, dear, if you wish it," he said. 
 "They are having great meetings there, I am told." 
 Then reminiscently, he went on, "You never knew 
 it, but when I was a little shaver, my Aunt Phebe, 
 who was a very good woman, the salt of the earth, 
 used to take me with her to revival meetings, and I 
 remember the singing. We ll go early, Eleanor, and 
 get a pew near the front. Then we ll see the people 
 go up to the anxious seat." 
 
 " Oh! Harry, you ll not make fun of anything, will 
 you ?" 
 
 "For what do you take me, Eleanor? The reason 
 I said that, is evident enough. The interest of such 
 a meeting culminates in the personal equation, and 
 we may as well see the thing through. Maybe this 
 is the first step we spoke of last night." 
 
 In this spirit, not exactly of repentance for sin or 
 longing for a better life, but of faint curiosity and 
 acquiescence and fainter hope, Harry set out that 
 evening, an evening which proved eventful in his 
 experience, beyond anything he could have antici 
 pated. 
 
 They were a trifle late, though Eleanor had started 
 in season, for on the way, an acquaintance had hap 
 pened to meet them, and had insisted on a long con 
 versation, while standing on a street corner, though 
 Harry tried to put him off until the next day. 
 
 "I couldn t offend him, Eleanor," he said apolo 
 getically, as the man, satisfied, went on his way. 
 "My practice has fallen off a little, and he s one of 
 my best clients."
 
 124 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 Being late, and the seats in the back of the room 
 all taken, there was nothing to do but to walk 
 through the aisle to the front, and the pair were in 
 stalled just behind the foremost row of pews. No 
 body took any notice of them. The meeting was 
 not on that plane. It had gone deeper than that. 
 
 A young man was in the pulpit. He was reading 
 from Colossians, and when he had finished he made 
 a very simple, childlike prayer. Others followed, but 
 there was nothing whatever that was dramatic or 
 sensational or out of the common. It might have 
 been styled a dull prayer-meeting, for there were 
 spaces of waiting silence when not one word was 
 said, until, perhaps, somebody started a hymn, and a 
 verse or two would be sung. The leader spoke sel 
 dom, and Eleanor grew nervous lest her husband 
 should be bored, and wished herself away. She 
 stole a glance at his face. It fascinated her, and she 
 looked again. Harry s gaze was rapt, but it was not 
 at the leader he was looking. His face was impas 
 sive; his eyes were on something, or some One that 
 Eleanor could not see. When the leader, in low, 
 persuasive tones, spoke of pardon for the erring, of 
 rehabilitation, of the Holy Ghost filling the heart and 
 life, and then, pausing, requested all who wished the 
 great gift of peace and pardon to come forward, 
 kneel down, and be prayed for, to Eleanor s utter as 
 tonishment, her husband rose, left her side, and was 
 first to bow knee and head at the mourner s bench. 
 
 Long afterwards Harry told Eleanor of the conflict 
 that raged within him that night. A conflict so 
 stern, so implacable, that it shook his very soul be 
 neath its outward calm. In one instant, he had a
 
 GOD S WAT 125 
 
 realizing sense of his wickedness, and of the impos 
 sibility humanly speaking of escaping his bondage. 
 Then, he was aware of two forces within him, each 
 pulling, straining; the devil doing his utmost to keep 
 his prey, the Lord redeeming His servant. The prayers 
 of the good mother who had brought him up, rose in 
 his memory. The heart-break of the wife at his side, 
 pierced him like an arrow. He saw nothing, heard 
 nothing, knew nothing of what was going on about 
 him, until there penetrated his consciousness the in 
 vitation to step to the altar. In the words of one, 
 who, many years ago, after a course of wild dissipa 
 tion, found redemption in Christ s grace, this man, 
 at that moment, gave himself up. "Lord, I accept 
 Thy will; damn or save!" was the language of his 
 heart. From that evening Harry was a different 
 man: old things passed away; all things became 
 new. No greater change occurred to Paul of Tarsus 
 on the road to Damascus, than to Harry Osbourn in 
 the Methodist prayer-meeting that night of his sud 
 den conversion. He turned his back on the whole 
 of his past, and began over again. From that time, 
 he seldom had, during a long life, so much as a pass 
 ing inclination to taste any intoxicant. From that 
 time, he was almost if not altogether a free man. 
 
 But kneeling there he had not knelt alone. Eleanor 
 had risen and followed him; at the supreme moment 
 when he gave his life into God s hands, to be broken 
 or mended, as God s will should elect, her soft warm 
 hand slipped into his, and the touch of her human 
 love was mingled with the divine accolade. 
 
 Let no one say that this was an impossible conver 
 sion. It was not even unscientific. More than one
 
 126 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 psychologist, not necessarily a Christian, has chron 
 icled the fact that the only cure for dipsomania is re- 
 ligiomania. The new man in Christ Jesus loses the 
 old sin and it is cast behind his back. We limit by 
 our small ability, the measureless power of the Holy 
 Spirit, and dare to think that because we fail misera 
 bly where we attempt to rescue men, the great God 
 must fail too.
 
 A VANISHED HOPE 
 
 THAT evening was the turning-point in the 
 married life of the Osbourns. The new 
 peace was so full, so dear, that little by little 
 the home took on more than the sacredness it had 
 held at any previous time, and the wife, surrounded 
 by her husband s devotion and waited upon with a 
 tenderness which was loverlike, was more than 
 happy, she was blessed. They did not go to the 
 wedding of the Waughs, though when the cards 
 came they planned to do so, but there were difficul 
 ties, and Eleanor found them insurmountable. For 
 one thing there came an unseasonable storm, that 
 made travelling disagreeable for the week which 
 would have seen their start, and besides, as Harry s 
 engagements kept him at home just then, his wife 
 would not go alone. She felt that at this crisis in his 
 life, he needed her companionship. 
 
 Donald submitted his business proposal to Harry, 
 but the latter asked for time to consider it. He wrote 
 a frank letter which raised him immensely in Don 
 ald s estimation, saying that he did not wish to go 
 from his present environment under any cloud of 
 suspicion, any defeat. "When I have more firmly 
 retrieved my position here, and shown that I can 
 maintain it, then I may be willing to return to the 
 North. My wife feels as I do, that for the present 
 
 127
 
 128 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 my place is in this town." In this decision Donald 
 acquiesced. 
 
 The Pomfret ladies were busy over a new kind of 
 sewing. Eleanor had persuaded them some time 
 ago, to change the everlasting worsted work for little 
 garments which were needed in hospitals and or 
 phanages, and had even induced them to buy a sew 
 ing machine. Mrs. Moore saw that machine enter 
 their door, with the feeling that the world was 
 tumbling about her ears. 
 
 " Hattie Moore, that little Mrs. Osbourn has 
 wrought a perfect revolution. I never saw so won 
 derful a thing. The Pomfret girls may emerge from 
 their prison yet! A sewing machine in that house. 
 It might as well have been in the ark! " 
 
 "Poor old things!" said Hattie, who was sweet 
 and twenty, and thought the Pomfrets antediluvian 
 indeed. 
 
 With delicate reticence, and shy blushes, as if 
 they were intruding on a mystery, unfit for virginal 
 ken, Miss Dora and Miss Clemmie, in the privacy of 
 their rooms, began to sew for Eleanor. Their mother 
 bought the linen sheer as silk and the dainty lace and 
 embroidery, and brought home to them muslin and 
 lawn, like cobwebs for fineness, and the two gentle 
 old maids set to work on a layette. That coming 
 baby of Eleanor s should have an outfit that a queen s 
 child might wear. All the women concerned about 
 it concurred in this and besides what the mother her 
 self was preparing, Mrs. Lee with the tender pride of 
 one who had long wanted to be a grandmother was 
 getting ready her contribution for the new nursery. 
 Never was a more exquisite basket arranged for any
 
 A VANISHED HOPE 129 
 
 little stranger in a palace than that which Mrs. Lee 
 brooded over in Islington. Somehow it made her 
 young again as she anticipated seeing the second 
 generation, and she lived over the sacred brooding 
 days of her own hopefulness, before her first-born 
 came, the dearest and most hallowed days ever 
 vouchsafed to woman. Mrs. Lee had no anxiety, 
 only joy as she thought of Eleanor s coming ordeal. 
 
 As for Eleanor, herself, the time passed in a dream 
 of bliss. She was radiant, so rich seemed life in the 
 glory of her unfolding maternity. Her beauty was 
 increasing daily. She was more captivating, Harry 
 thought, than she had been as a girl, and he was 
 right. A woman is never so regal, never so dowered 
 with an ineffable and exquisite loveliness, as when 
 she awaits the hour of sacrifice, which shall crown 
 her being with life s highest honor. 
 
 Aunt Polly shook her head over Eleanor s high 
 spirits. To Bill she remarked, privately, 
 
 " Dat chile too scrumptious! Time she s had ten, 
 like me, she won t be so set up." 
 
 But little did Eleanor care what anybody thought, 
 she was simply openly and deliciously happy and 
 could hardly wait for the day to arrive when she 
 should clasp her baby in her arms. 
 
 The Pomfrets were of Aunt Polly s mind, but they 
 loved her so, that not even to each other did they 
 breathe the opinion, that until an infant is actually in 
 the world in his proper visible person, it is hardly 
 modest to allude to him even remotely. Eleanor 
 upset their ideas, but they attributed it compassion 
 ately to her Northern education and went on loving 
 her.
 
 130 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 Winter, the short winter of the South, drifted 
 away, and the white English violets were fragrant in 
 the gardens, where the jonquils and daffodils were 
 hurrying into bloom. 
 
 Eleanor revelled in the sweetness of the spring. 
 She thought no spring had ever worn so bright a 
 look, and she spent hours of each day out of doors. 
 
 Singing one morning a little Scotch air that Harry 
 was fond of, she came down the veranda meaning to 
 gather a bunch of daffodils. A great bee flew past 
 her intent on some errand, his hum, chiming in with 
 her song. Flying things however harmless were 
 terrors to Eleanor, and she stepped hastily forward 
 to avoid the bee, stumbled on the lowest step, and 
 recovered herself swiftly with a hand that clutched at 
 the rail. She felt a jar, but apprehended no peril. 
 
 Yet three days later, Dr. Abbott was hurriedly 
 summoned, the nurse was sent for, and hour after 
 hour, in the extremity of human anguish, the battle 
 between life and death was fought in that household. 
 
 "I must have some one else here," said the doctor. 
 "Send for Mrs. Moore." The nearest friend was 
 this Southern neighbor then. 
 
 She came, calm, efficient, untroubled. The battle 
 still raged. Eleanor s strength was ebbing. In those 
 days, anesthetics were not often given to soothe 
 birth-pangs, but Dr. Abbott sent for another phy 
 sician, and chloroform was administered. 
 
 The baby was born at last, the dear, hoped-for, 
 first-born son. He was only a little waxen image of 
 surpassing workmanship. He never so much as 
 breathed. His tiny hands were clenched. He looked 
 as if he had fought for his life, and given it up re-
 
 A VANISHED HOPE 131 
 
 luctantly. Such a peerless baby, the disappointment 
 was too heart-rending. 
 
 The Pomfrets knew nothing of the event, till some 
 hours after the doctors had gone and the spent mother 
 was resting quietly, utterly wearied and looking like 
 a broken lily as she lay on her bed. 
 
 Harry crossed the road and unlatched their gate. 
 It was the first time in more than a score of years 
 that a man s voice had been heard at their door. He 
 asked for Mrs. Pomfret. When she came he said, in 
 a shaking voice, 
 
 "Our little son was born this morning, and was 
 dead. Eleanor would like you to know." 
 
 He turned and went gropingly back. A man s 
 grief at so great a sorrow and loss, when first his 
 pride of fatherhood awakes, is a terrible thing. 
 Harry shut himself up in his den, and sobbed in 
 agony. Not since his mother s death had the man 
 broken down and cried like a child. When he came 
 forth, at last, a baptism of resignation had christened 
 him for a higher manhood. 
 
 So that was a lonesome spring. Mrs. Lee and 
 Kathleen came after awhile, and brought a whiff of 
 Islington, and Harry, loyally putting himself in the 
 background, did everything to make Eleanor forget 
 her grief. For grief it was. She was not swift 
 in regaining her poise, and the doctor advised a 
 change of air and scene. She was still resolute 
 in her determination not to leave her husband, and 
 he could not go until the summer, so, at last, she 
 made a brave effort to be bright and cheery once 
 more. Kathleen sent for Dick Deland, and he was so 
 merry and full of fun, that, in spite of herself, Elea-
 
 132 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 nor returned to something of her old gaiety. The 
 house was filled with young people, evening after 
 evening, and they had cheery times. 
 
 "I believe, mother," said Eleanor one day, "that 
 Miss Dora and Miss Clemmie look over at us with 
 longing. Do you suppose it would be possible to 
 coax them to come to Kathleen s birthday party ? " 
 
 " I fear they won t dare to do so, but you might 
 invite them." 
 
 "Their mother does come here, but she has never 
 shut herself up as they have." 
 
 "It would be a fine thing for them if they could 
 break their bonds, Nellie. Why don t you try your 
 powers of persuasion ?" 
 
 "I will." 
 
 The next moment she was on her way. Her 
 mother watched her, as, dressed in white, she moved 
 across the garden, turning at the gate to wave her 
 hand. 
 
 "If any one can resist my Eleanor, as she is in 
 these days, that person has a heart of adamant," 
 thought the partial mother. 
 
 " It isn t fair." 
 
 " What isn t fair, Kathleen ?" 
 
 "That anybody should keep on growing more 
 and more irresistible. Eleanor not only does not 
 fade, she is more charming than she used to be. 
 And look at me!" 
 
 Kathleen s piquant face was sadly freckled and un 
 becomingly heated, and she had drenched her ging 
 ham gown and given herself a generally tumbled ap 
 pearance, due to a vigorous row on the river, and a 
 splashing from the waves, that need not have hap-
 
 A VANISHED HOPE 133 
 
 pened, had she quietly sat still, when Dick availed 
 himself of what seemed a good chance to give her a 
 rather bearish hug. 
 
 "Go and make yourself tidy, dear. There is noth 
 ing the matter with you." 
 
 "Nothing, dear Mrs. Lee, except that she won t 
 let herself be kissed. You can t approve of that. I 
 wish you would scold her." 
 
 "You are two very foolish children," said Mrs. 
 Lee, smiling. " Here s Eleanor returning. I wonder 
 has she succeeded." 
 
 Eleanor s cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were 
 shining. She actually hurried, a rare thing for her. 
 
 "Oh, mother dear, mother dear," she called, 
 "they have said yes. They will both come to the 
 party to-night." 
 
 Mrs. Lee glanced at the rooms and concluded that 
 they were in need of several housewifely touches. 
 She enjoyed arranging a home for guests: it had al 
 ways been her greatest delight to entertain, and now 
 she sent Eleanor to her chamber for a long rest, 
 while she did those last things which every woman 
 likes to do before company comes. Her own heart 
 ache was hardly less than her daughter s that those 
 baby-garments were all laid away in lavender. Un 
 like Eleanor, who felt as if this disappointment were 
 final, she still hoped that some other day might dawn 
 and bring the coveted gift from God. 
 
 Meanwhile she was as excited as the Pomfrets 
 themselves over their brave step forward into 
 society. It was a plunge indeed.
 
 XV 
 
 UNEXPECTED GUESTS 
 
 WHEN, very timidly and with a fluttering re 
 luctance that almost made them withdraw 
 from their promise, Dora and Clemmie 
 Pomfret began to dress for the party, their first dis 
 mayed thought was that they had nothing to wear. 
 A party requires something festive, and they had 
 dressed in black alpaca for winter, and white muslin 
 for summer, with no special reference to the fashion, 
 during the revolving seasons of many, many years. 
 
 " Mamma," said Clemmie, who, though the 
 younger sister always took the lead, "you will have 
 to go over to Mrs. Osbourn s and make our excuses 
 and apologies. We were very weak to yield to that 
 honeyed tongue of hers. What will people say ?" 
 
 Unexpectedly old Mrs. Pomfret plucked up spirit 
 to reply, 
 
 " It is you who are weak, Clementina. The 
 guests neither know you nor your history, so they 
 will say nothing at all. Why should they ? " 
 
 Dora, who could be obstinate when she made up 
 her mind, declared that she was going, anyway, 
 having promised. 
 
 " Though of course we ll be wall-flowers. We 
 were not always wall-flowers, Clemmie." 
 
 The old mother sighed. Mothers are very keen of 
 sight, and she perceived only too plainly that these 
 
 34
 
 UNEXPECTED GUESTS 135 
 
 withered daughters of hers, in a dessicated middle 
 age, were really specimens of girlhood arrested. It 
 hurt her. She was sorry that Eleanor had not let 
 them alone, yet she said nothing. If they could 
 only now begin a simple and wholesome life, it 
 would be such an advance on the entombed life 
 they had been contented with so long. Though she 
 had never approved of it, she had been powerless to 
 modify it in any particular. 
 
 "Mother, what shall we wear?" Clementina in 
 quired as if she had been fifteen instead of forty- 
 two. 
 
 "We ll take a look in the old cedar chest," said 
 the mother, and gleefully, the three, she who had a 
 girl s heart under her seventy winters, and the two 
 who had never been anything but girls, climbed to 
 the old Pomfret garret, and dragged out the cedar 
 chest. Rich garments were here, a silver-gray bro 
 cade, a lilac silk, a shimmering black satin, with old 
 yellow laces, and sashes, broad and glimmering, in 
 changeful lustre. The mother had often aired and 
 unfolded these elegant robes in the years of their 
 disuse, but the younger women had never once 
 looked on them since they had laid them aside. 
 Curiously childlike was their pleasure as they carried 
 the elegant dresses down-stairs, and laid them out 
 for the evening. All day they wandered up and 
 down, unable to settle to anything, watching and 
 waiting for the evening as if they were debutantes. 
 
 "You see, mother," said Clemmie, as in the sum 
 mer dusk, she stood before the looking glass to have 
 the silvery brocade hooked up in the back, "as we 
 have made a new departure, we will not return to
 
 136 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 our old ways. I shall go to market to-morrow, and 
 both of us will go to church next Sunday." 
 
 The mother smiled. Yet something tugged at her 
 heart. For the sake of their brother, her only son, 
 who had fled none knew where, after a stain had 
 fallen upon a hitherto unspotted name, these sisters 
 had hidden themselves for almost a lifetime. Where 
 was the boy ? She had been aware for a decade that 
 Dora and Clementina seldom thought of him ; his name 
 was never mentioned. In her prayers it had never 
 been forgotten. It was queer, and unreasonable, 
 iiiid foolish, but it was like a mother, that a strange 
 jealousy should stir in her thought, as she watched 
 the two old-young sisters, in their pleased excite 
 ment, dressing for little Kathleen Lee s birthday 
 party. 
 
 " I think I won t go," she suddenly announced. 
 
 Both sisters turned on her most pleading counte 
 nances. 
 
 "Then we can t," said Dora disappointed. 
 
 "Oh, mother, please go!" urged Clementina. 
 
 And Mrs. Pomfret put on her black satin, piled her 
 soft white hair in a pompadour roll, and like an 
 elderly hen with a brood of two flustered chicks, 
 finally went to her neighbor s. Once there, the three 
 were welcomed and made much of, yet with true 
 courtesy no one behaved as if the ladies had not at 
 tended every party in every month in every year of a 
 score. They had a beautiful time, and danced, at 
 last, in the Virginia Reel. Going home, Clementina 
 squeezed Dora s arm. 
 
 " I do hope it wasn t wicked," she said. 
 
 "Wicked? Absurd."
 
 UNEXPECTED GUESTS 137 
 
 " Maybe we ve been wicked all this time feeling so 
 ashamed of poor Max." 
 
 The other sister shuddered. It was so long since 
 she had thought of Maxwell Pomfret. Almost there 
 seemed something sinister in mentioning his name, 
 something of ill-omen. 
 
 They crept silently into their own rooms, and went 
 to bed. That night old Mrs. Pomfret lay long awake. 
 Very early in the morning she was roused by a hand 
 ful of earth thrown against the pane. She rose from 
 her bed, stepped to the window and looked out. 
 Her room was on the first floor. Somebody was 
 standing there. She did not recognize him, a gray- 
 haired man respectably clad, but unshaven and un 
 kempt. She looked again and opened the window 
 holding out her arms, a light of love on her wrinkled 
 old face, her eyes shining. The man sprang to her. 
 
 "Oh, Max, my boy! my boy!" she exclaimed. 
 
 " Mother, you don t tell me to go away again! " 
 
 " For twenty years I have been praying you might 
 come home. There was never any need for you 
 to go. Everything was made right for you, Maxwell. 
 If you could but have trusted your mother, my boy, 
 oh! my dear boy! " 
 
 The man s rough head was lying against her 
 breast. 
 
 "Where have you been?" she said. No answer 
 came. 
 
 " Why have you let me suffer so ? Why did you 
 never write ?" 
 
 "Mother," he said, "I meant you all to think me 
 dead. I ve been dead to you. I ve been mining. 
 I ve been going to and fro in the earth. I ve brought
 
 138 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 back more than I took away. I grew homesick. 
 Virginia pulled me back. Mother, I fought in the 
 army four years. I was Alec Hayes there, but the 
 bullet wasn t made that would kill me, and here ! am, 
 your prodigal returned." 
 
 The day was fast growing bright. Mrs. Pomfret 
 heard her daughters stirring. She laughed like a girl, 
 the old rippling laugh of Mary Hayes. 
 
 "Max," she said, "I do hope Dora and Clemmie 
 will bear the shock of seeing you without fainting 
 away." 
 
 About the same time a carriage drew up at the gate 
 before Harry Osbourn s house. The travellers in it, 
 who had arrived by the morning steamer, looked at 
 each other like a pair of conspirators. 
 
 "Mattie, after all would we not better tell the man 
 to turn and drive to the hotel?" 
 
 "Donald Waugh, when were you so timorous? 
 I told you I meant to give Eleanor a surprise. Let 
 me have my way, please. I think it fun to steal a 
 march on the Osbourns this way, when they wouldn t 
 come to our wedding. I m going to have my way, 
 and persuade them to go off with us on our trip." 
 
 " You are rapidly acquiring a habit of sovereignty, 
 Mrs. Waugh," said Donald. "I find it most useless 
 to oppose you. Do you suppose anybody in the 
 house is up?" 
 
 "Somebody s making beaten biscuit." 
 
 " Is that pounding a sign of bread-making ?" 
 
 "Yes, you old dear. And there s Eleanor on the 
 veranda. She was always an early riser." 
 
 Thus unexpected guests came on the same day to 
 two adjacent homes and though their arrival together
 
 UNEXPECTED GUESTS 139 
 
 was accidental, yet it had something unforeseen and 
 providential about it, and the meaning of it was dis 
 covered in a future day. I like to think there are 
 no accidents, that in the apparent tangles of our life, 
 the hand of the great Weaver is smoothing out 
 everything, and that all occurs, even the least of the 
 curiously shifting incidents, according to His plan. 
 Herein is the greatest comfort and the greatest 
 strength.
 
 WHAT woeful work would be wrought in 
 many a household, if the idolized dead 
 could come back! Mourn as we may for 
 our nearest and dearest, once the waves have closed 
 over them, they may not return. We fondly think 
 that in any sweet morning, in any heavenly twilight, 
 if they should slip softly in and take the vacant chair 
 by the hearth, our hearts would bound with joy and 
 thankfulness. Yet, when we see, as sometimes we 
 do, the unexpected return of one who has been long 
 away, so long that the grooves of routine have worn 
 to smoothness in his absence, we are aware of a jar 
 if not of a shock. The years are forever silently 
 changing us, not in the outward semblance only, but 
 in the soul-stuff behind it, and no one is gone twenty 
 years or more without coming back a different being 
 in essentials, and finding everybody else a good deal 
 altered. Of only one, among the multitudinous 
 relationships of life, is this untrue. The heart of the 
 mother knows no change. Her boy is her own in 
 his middle age, or to gray hairs, as fully and pas 
 sionately hers as in his babyhood. She may be 
 clear-sighted and may discern his faults and limita 
 tions, but she does not care, nor is her love lessened. 
 To the Pomfret sisters, their brother came as a per 
 fect stranger, and his return upset them terribly. 
 
 140
 
 A MAN IN THE HOUSE 141 
 
 The fact of it, and the circumstance that accompanied 
 the fact, were all equally disconcerting. How they 
 hated the sight of him loafing about the garden, and 
 how they loathed the scent of his pipe. They 
 struggled to be kind and sisterly and he plainly saw 
 through their attempt. 
 
 A drop of coward s blood in a man s veins is a ter 
 rible misfortune. 
 
 In his clever and genial youth, Max Pomfret had 
 been hail fellow well met with high and low; he had 
 taken rank with the foremost in college, and at home 
 had been the model son and brother. The over 
 rigid training of an austere father had helped, ir 
 early childhood, to accentuate the boy s innate 
 timidity, and when youth came, and evil communica^ 
 tions, taking the shape of a set of reckless com 
 panions, had corrupted him, fear was the lion in his 
 path. When the crash came, and he was accused of 
 forgery, Max ran away and stayed away, visions of a 
 convict s cell looming large before him. The proud, 
 severe father was dead. His mother and sisters 
 nearly died of what they thought the family dis 
 grace. They forgot that nobody can be disgraced 
 except by his own act, and that a family name can 
 never be trailed in the dust by the sin of a single 
 individual. The mother grieved less over the dis 
 grace than did her girls. She wept and wearied 
 for her wandering boy, and on many a stormy night 
 she did not sleep for thinking of him off somewhere 
 in the cold world, in suffering or want. Latterly she 
 had ceased to think of him as living. Could Max 
 be alive and make no sign ? Alive, and not let her 
 know ?
 
 142 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 Dora and Clemmie met him with a sort of fright 
 ened appeal, a very mixed gladness. He seemed 
 like a tramp. Not a thing about him recalled the 
 brother who had gone. The new Max was coarser, 
 rougher, different and older, so much older than their 
 brother, and having knocked about, for half a life 
 time, in queer places, he had grown queer. He did 
 not fit into this cloistered home, as hushed as a con 
 vent, fragrant with potpourri, and all hung about 
 with woman s needlework. Neither sister breathed 
 it to the other, but each realized that the house was 
 not half so pleasant with Max in it as with Max 
 away. Clementina shut herself up to think it over, 
 and Dora went out under the crepe myrtle tree and 
 cried. One good thing his coming, just at the mo 
 ment, did. It confirmed them in their resolution to 
 mix with the world once more. 
 
 "When Sunday comes, Clementina, we ll need 
 bonnets; how are we to get them ? " 
 
 Dora presented this practical question with an air 
 of distress. 
 
 " Send to Miss Reno s for them, I suppose." 
 
 "Mother says Miss Reno gave up business ten 
 years ago." 
 
 "Well, ask Kathleen Lee to stop at whatever mil 
 liner s there is and send us some bonnets home on 
 approval. That s easy. I hope Max won t go to 
 church the first Sunday." 
 
 It turned out that Max did not go for many Sun 
 days. The coward drop of blood still asserted its 
 dominion, and the returned wanderer kept out of 
 sight. He pottered around the house and garden, 
 loitered about wherever his mother happened to be,
 
 A MAN IN rHE HOUSE 143 
 
 and smoked innumerable pipes of tobacco, so that 
 the perfume of the potpourri was quite lost in that 
 of the weed. Air the house as they would, it was 
 pervaded by stale tobacco. It did not seem like their 
 house. 
 
 Miss Clementina and Miss Dora more and more 
 hated their brother s pipe. Their brother baffled 
 them. He said the most shocking things, scoffed at 
 Plutarch, made open fun of their silly worsted work, 
 talked loudly, as he shuffled about, and, most vexing 
 of all, was late at breakfast. Five times as much 
 cooking had to be done as ever before, Max expect 
 ing three meals a day, and bringing a good appetite 
 to every one. Money was plenty with him. The 
 girls, as they still styled themselves in thought, had 
 fears that it had not been honestly come by, but not 
 for worlds would they have ventured to tell their 
 mother this traitorous thought. 
 
 One unspoken hope was in both their minds, that 
 Maxwell s stay would be merely transient. 
 
 He was supremely unconcerned about their wishes 
 in the matter. As a brother, Max was a failure, per 
 haps because inevitably, the attitude of the brother 
 (or sister) who stays at home, is that of the elder 
 brother to the prodigal in the parable, a little jealous, 
 a little hostile, a good deal reproachful. The parental 
 heart only can invest the prodigal with the best robe, 
 and put the ring on his finger, and the shoes on his 
 feet. 
 
 Yet Max was not all bad. And there were those 
 who liked him. 
 
 " Hello, old fellow, can this be you ?" 
 
 The cordial voice was that of Donald Waugh,
 
 144 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 who, with the ladies had come over to call on the 
 Pomfrets. Max generally slouched out of the draw 
 ing-room before visitors entered, but he had not 
 heard the approach of these people. He now ad 
 vanced unabashed. 
 
 " It is 1 indeed, Mr. Waugh. I am glad to see 
 you." 
 
 " And how do you happen to be here ? " 
 
 "This is my home, my mother s home. You 
 know 1 am a Virginian." 
 
 "I cannot tell you how good it is to find you 
 where I can talk over that last invention for finishing 
 cloth," said Donald; "you went off so abruptly, 1 
 lost track of you. Now you will come to Islington, 
 man, and stay there, where you are wanted. I ll see 
 to that." 
 
 Eleanor observed Donald with increasing amaze 
 ment. His amiability had so come to the front since 
 his marriage, he was so friendly, so expansive, the 
 change was an occasion of perplexing conjecture. 
 What had caused it ? The answer was apparently 
 Mattie, for the stiff, obstinate man, was so far as 
 one could see, most pliable in her hands. Eleanor 
 did not realize that Mattie was already a proficient 
 in the fine art of managing a husband without his 
 suspecting the process. Mr. Waugh was genuinely 
 pleased to see Max Pomfret, who had spent six 
 months at Waugh s Mills only a year before this 
 time. It is truly a little bit of a world, this of ours. 
 
 The Waughs were having a very pleasant visit. 
 Mrs. Lee supplied the motherly element in the house 
 party and Kathleen and Dick, as the pair of lovers, 
 furnished the flavor of sentiment. Donald unfolded
 
 A MAN IN THE HOUSE 145 
 
 to Harry his plans which required a lieutenant with 
 legal knowledge adequately to carry out, and insisted 
 that a migration to Islington would be the best possi 
 ble step for all concerned. He made an offer that 
 Harry could not afford to decline. Mrs. Lee and 
 Kathleen were beside themselves with delight when 
 Harry provisionally accepted it. 
 
 " I ll have my Eleanor back," said Kathleen dancing 
 around the room like a child whose cup was full. In 
 the end Dick Deland went home, Mrs. Lee and Kath 
 leen followed, and Eleanor and her husband set out 
 for a trip with Donald and Mattie Waugh. 
 
 Max Pomfret and his mother, who had not been 
 outside of Virginia since she was a girl, took train 
 and boat to Islington, where Mrs. Pomfret stayed 
 awhile with her boy, until the fragrance of rose- 
 leaves came back to the home whence Miss Clemmie 
 and Miss Dora at last banished the odor of a pipe. 
 The house cleaning they did would have satisfied a 
 housekeeper with a New England conscience. 
 
 To reconcile the old Max and the new was a task 
 beyond the sisters. Mr. Waugh, who knew nothing 
 of the man s past, trusted and liked him as an inventor 
 and a man with ideas, a man to cultivate and keep at 
 hand. The truth was that so far as remorse and re 
 gret could atone, he had paid the debt of his young 
 manhood, but not until he felt sure that those who 
 knew him then had passed away, could he bring 
 himself to step again in the streets of his old home. 
 And since his youth, he had undergone a good deal 
 of positive suffering, in the years of the war, when 
 fighting for the lost cause. The peculiar thing that 
 kept Eleanor from so much as admitting Max Pomfret
 
 146 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 then or ever to her liking was that he seemed so de 
 livered from comprehension, that he took so slight 
 account of what his mother had endured of anguish 
 and suspense. To his mind this suffering of hers 
 was apparently not existent. A few facile words of 
 penitence and he was satisfied that all was right, yet 
 the mother kept loving, trusting, almost adoring him 
 still. Max was an odd compound of sagacity and 
 stolidity, and Eleanor did not care for him. 
 
 Before the house party broke up, one summer 
 morning when strawberries were ripe, she was walk 
 ing by herself on a country road. Acres of straw 
 berries filled the air with lush sweetness. Hundreds 
 of pickers bent to their task, filling the boxes and 
 crates that were going to the Northern markets. 
 Overhead the skies were blue with the ineffable 
 depth of June, when " heaven tries the earth if it be 
 in tune, and softly above it her warm ear lays." 
 
 She walked on alone. She had felt a craving to go 
 off in solitude, away from every one, to think whether 
 or not she could willingly forsake this Southern home 
 that had grown so dear. She was not quite sure that 
 it was wise or best. Musing she sauntered on. She 
 was inaudibly lifting a prayer that there might be no 
 mistake. 
 
 Behind her, soundless on the sandy road, came a 
 phaeton drawn by a pony, a lady driving. She called 
 to Eleanor, as she passed, then stopped. 
 
 " Have you heard," she said, " that Charles Dickens 
 is dead ? " 
 
 The brightness of the day was dimmed for Eleanor. 
 The sky was opaque for a second or two. Dickens 
 dead! The tidings brought an intense and thrilling
 
 A MAN IN THE HOUSE 147 
 
 sense of personal bereavement. It saddened two 
 continents and eclipsed the light of the English- 
 speaking world, and Eleanor s stunned reception of 
 it was repeated in ten thousand hearts. 
 
 For in that day every one quoted Dickens, his peo 
 ple moved and walked before one s eyes. Susan 
 Nipper, Bella Wilfer, Mrs. Boffin, David Copperfield, 
 Uriah Heep, and all the rest in his marvellous portrait 
 gallery enriched the wealth of the world. Our talk 
 was crisp with phrases which he had given us to 
 be current coin wherever men and women met and 
 conversed. His vogue has passed, but it was a good 
 and pleasant vogue while it lasted, and his work will 
 always belong to literature. Though out of fashion 
 now, it will never cease to be a standard, and reading 
 people must continue to love it. 
 
 Eleanor was glad she had heard the master read 
 "Boots at the Holly Tree Inn" in New York, that 
 she had once touched his hand in greeting, and she 
 was sorry through and through that Dickens was 
 dead. She went home saddened, for one who had 
 been a great inspiration in her life had left the earth, 
 and put on the garments of immortality. To divert 
 her mood she began packing in earnest, and later 
 went forth to find good homes for her colored 
 people.
 
 XVII 
 AN EVENING CALL 
 
 WHEN the Osbourns were, after an interval 
 of some weeks spent in travelling, finally 
 settled in Islington they found themselves 
 in a North of new conditions and thriving activity. 
 Islington, as Donald Waugh had predicted, having 
 awakened from a long Rip Van Winkle sleep, had 
 made immense progress, and was rapidly pushing 
 out from a small village to a great city, streets run 
 ning out in every direction, and mills and factories 
 multiplying in the business district. 
 
 They went from the train to their own home. The 
 furniture and books had been sent from the South on 
 their departure, and it had been to Mrs. Lee and 
 Kathleen a labor of love to arrange everything taste 
 fully in the house Mr. Waugh had selected for their 
 occupancy. This was not far from his own, in the 
 newest and finest portion of the town, and no pains 
 had been spared to fit it with whatever improvements 
 then existed, and to make it convenient and charm 
 ing. Max Pomfret worked like a Trojan in unpack 
 ing and arranging, proving himself most efficient, and 
 his mother who was beginning to feel the pangs of 
 homesickness, forgot them and consented to stay 
 awhile longer, that she might see her friends in their 
 new nest, before she returned to the South. Clem- 
 mie and Dora were writing appealing letters every 
 
 148
 
 AN EVENING CALL 149 
 
 week, urging her return, and she was tugged at in 
 two directions, disliking to leave Max, who did not 
 need her, and yet seemed to, and longing at the same 
 time to go to his sisters who confessed a very definite 
 need. 
 
 Eleanor thought Mrs. Pomfret had failed. She 
 looked older, shrunken, and tremulous, poor lady; 
 the excitements of the past year had told upon her 
 strength. Between seventy and eighty years, there 
 is little margin left on which to draw. 
 
 In the first month or two, Eleanor was supremely 
 contented. Old friends called. New acquaintances 
 left cards. Everybody who had gone to school with 
 her was glad to see her again, and her husband was 
 included in her welcome. The atmosphere, stim 
 ulating and electric, was to her as a quickening 
 breath. She was eager to throw herself into the 
 current of affairs, to work among the mill people, to 
 do good somewhere to somebody. Her mother ob 
 served that she was again the vivid, emphatic, earnest 
 being she had known at nineteen. It was as if the 
 Eleanor of the last decade had slipped away, and the 
 former Eleanor had come back to her old place. 
 
 A Woman s Club was just forming amid much 
 opposition and many good-humored jeers. In those 
 days, people were very doubtful about women s 
 clubs. The great work done by women in the 
 Sanitary and Christian Commissions had developed 
 them in administrative capacities, and shown them 
 what they could do, in carrying forward large enter 
 prises. To many a woman, fossilized by the routine 
 of unbroken domesticity, the outside interests, into 
 which her love of country and care for the soldier
 
 150 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 had forced her, had proved a renovation and re 
 freshment. Women were reluctant to sink again 
 into the monotony of continual housekeeping, varied 
 only by a little church work; they felt that they 
 wanted something beyond the "common task," that 
 hitherto had furnished "all they ought to ask." Of 
 this recognized need and felt want, was born the 
 Woman s Club, an important movement which has 
 brightened and blessed the womanhood of America 
 for at least one generation, and is at present steadily 
 forging ahead to the upbuilding of home interests 
 everywhere. 
 
 Eleanor threw her influence on the side of the club, 
 and was one of the charter members of the "Fort 
 nightly," which organization was to devote its ener 
 gies to literature and music, with philanthropy as a 
 side issue. Mrs. Lee held back, because she belonged 
 to the old order, and was a natural conservative, and 
 Kathleen would have nothing to do with the affair, for 
 the excellent reason that Dick Deland made fun of it. 
 
 Eleanor was not indifferent to the attitude of her 
 family, but she felt sure that time would change it. 
 When, however, one evening, Mr. and Mrs. Waugh 
 called, their criticism aroused her defiance. 
 
 "I am amazed," said Donald, addressing Harry, 
 "that you permit your wife to make herself con 
 spicuous in this absurd and mannish eccentricity of 
 the advanced female. 1 think you should make a 
 firm stand against it." 
 
 Harry, no more than any other husband, enjoyed 
 this tone. He replied stiffly, 
 
 " Eleanor does as she chooses. I do not assume to 
 control her actions or infringe her liberty."
 
 AN EVENING CALL 151 
 
 Eleanor, with lips tightly closed and flushing cheek, 
 was restrained from a hot reply, because in her own 
 home, as a lady, she could be rude to nobody. But 
 she was inwardly boiling over. Donald Waugh 
 was Donald Waugh yet, as bigoted, domineering, 
 narrow, and self-satisfied as ever. Mattie, observ 
 ing danger signals, put in her tactful word. 
 
 " My husband really means that you ought to per 
 suade Eleanor against drifting into a false position. 
 At least, dear," she said, turning to Mrs. Osbourn, 
 "you might be less in evidence. This Fortnightly 
 Club is in the experimental stage. If it is going to 
 lead women to neglect their families, send husbands 
 out to seek entertainment away from home, and 
 generally work havoc in domestic relations, you don t 
 want to take the initiative in such an enterprise." 
 
 Donald gazed on Mattie with admiration. Trucu 
 lent himself to the last degree, he appreciated his 
 wife most when she was most smoothly didactic. 
 His big hands, which Eleanor at the moment remem 
 bered she had always abhorred, were complacently 
 folded across his ample white waistcoat. 
 
 "Quite right, my dear," he said. "You have 
 stated the case with the utmost lucidity. I am sure 
 Eleanor will see that it is her duty to withdraw from 
 the association." 
 
 " I was on the contrary," said Eleanor, " counting 
 on Mattie to be a very useful member of the club. 
 Had you not happened in to-night, I should have 
 called on her to-morrow, expressly to give her an 
 opportunity to join us. It is a pity that anything 
 which is bound to be very influential in Islington, 
 should lack the countenance of Mrs. Waugh."
 
 152 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 " Even had Donald approved," said Mattie sweetly, 
 " I could not have gained my own consent to enter 
 anything so revolutionary. And, as he certainly 
 would forbid it, if I wished it ever so much, you see, 
 Eleanor, that you musi nut c^^ct anything from me." 
 
 Mattie s air indicated that Donald s will was her 
 law. Her sovereign beamed upon her benignly. 
 Into his heart floated, like a strain of music, the 
 whole of Solomon s description of the woman whose 
 price is above rubies. " She will do him good and 
 not evil, all the days of her life," he thought happily 
 as he escorted his wife homeward; joyfully aware 
 that he had escaped the lifelong grind it would have 
 been, to have so volatile, headstrong and insufferably 
 determined-on-her-own-way mate, as Eleanor Lee. 
 When the Waugh house was closed for the night, 
 Donald sought Mattie, who was in her dressing- 
 room, sitting beside a handful of fire on the hearth. 
 
 "My darling," he said, "my pearl of discretion, 
 how providential it is that I was the fortunate fellow 
 to secure you, most loving, most obedient of women 
 and wives. Are you ever sorry you married me, ever 
 sorry you promised to obey ?" 
 
 "Never, Donald, dearest," and the plump little 
 comrade of his days looked smilingly into his face. 
 She slipped her soft hand into his. The big fist 
 closed over it, as if it had been a baby s. He gathered 
 her into his arms, and sat blissfully content by the 
 smouldering roseate ashes of a driftwood fire. 
 
 "Donald," said Mattie, "about refurnishing the 
 drawing-room, if you still object, I will not press the 
 matter. The present furniture is really very nice, and 
 as you said, very serviceable and strong."
 
 AN EVENING CALL 153 
 
 A week before they had discussed the matter with 
 some vehemence. Though Donald was royally rich, 
 he had a near streak, and it cropped up in unex 
 pected places. Thus while in some directions, as 
 the horses, the garden, the grounds, he was lavish, 
 in others he was parsimonious, and Mattie had learned 
 to trim her sails to meet and sometimes to evade 
 the reefs and shoals of his caprice. In the matter of 
 maid-servants, he was miserly, and though Mattie 
 had begged for a butler, she had hitherto begged in 
 vain. 
 
 His mood to-night was most indulgent. Smooth 
 ing the fair brown hair, gazing into the calm blue 
 eyes that held no storms, observing the exquisite 
 neatness of the home, where Mattie gave him such 
 worshipful attendance, he wondered that he had ever 
 denied her anything. 
 
 "My love," he said, "I am so gratified at the 
 womanly good sense you have shown in the matter 
 of this most opprobrious club, that I cannot praise 
 you sufficiently. Furnish the drawing-room over, as 
 soon as you please. I give you carte blanche. Of 
 course 1 should not have held out against you at all, 
 had I fancied you cared much about the thing. And, 
 by the by, Loomis told me this morning that he can 
 procure us an admirable English butler, so if you 
 want him, you shall have him." 
 
 " Oh, Donald ! how good you are, how generous. 
 Can we afford this ? " 
 
 He drew himself up offended for the instant. 
 
 " Afford it, my child ? What are you thinking of? 
 We can afford what we choose. I ll buy you those 
 pearls you have been wanting so long, if you will
 
 154 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 drive down town with me to-morrow. Beauty 
 should go beautifully/ my love." 
 
 Mattie smiled a little as she let down her long hair 
 and brushed it before retiring. Her unspoken reflec 
 tion was that a woman could do what she chose 
 with her husband if only she understood him. She 
 felt no little pride that she could wind this big, obsti 
 nate, raw-boned Donald of hers around her little fin 
 ger. As for the Woman s Club, what did she care for 
 it ? To meet her townswomen twice a month, to 
 write papers on subjects that implied hard work and 
 research, to study parliamentary law, and conduct 
 debates, all these seemed to mean superfluous toil to 
 Mattie Waugh, who was easy going, ordinary, and 
 honestly affectionate and fond of her home and hus 
 band. Donald enjoyed being obeyed. She enjoyed 
 obeying him when his mind and hers were on the 
 same tack. When she differed with him she bided 
 her time, and brought him around to her way of 
 thinking, and he never suspected the process. How 
 stubbornly he had scoffed at her desire for a correct 
 butler, and yet here he was installing one. Mattie 
 was entirely willing that he should assume the glory 
 of having introduced this new element into their 
 housekeeping, few families in Islington, as yet pos 
 sessing a man-servant, for indoor work. 
 
 She lay awake, a long time that night, her even 
 pulses beating faster than their wont with triumph, 
 and her last thought was of thankfulness that she 
 had so good a husband. 
 
 " Dear Donald! " she whispered as she fell asleep. 
 
 In the Osbourn home after the Waughs left, 
 Harry stretched himself as if tired out.
 
 AN EVENING CALL 155 
 
 "Do you really suppose, Eleanor," he said, " that 
 Donald Waugh represents the best sentiment of 
 Islington ? " 
 
 She flashed up in an instant. 
 
 " He represents his egotistical, pragmatical, intoler 
 ant self, and Mattie is his echo. It makes me ill to 
 see a woman so subservient. Harry Osbourn, do 
 you think me an idiot ? " 
 
 " I have never had the remotest idea that you were 
 anything other than an eminently level-headed gen 
 tlewoman," he answered. 
 
 " Because," Eleanor hesitated and blushed, looking 
 lovely in her gown of rose-red, with her head held 
 high, " I am not going to take any step that you, 
 after deliberation, honestly will tell me, you regard as 
 compromising. We are newcomers here, in a sense, 
 and you have your career before you. I shall not do 
 the least, least thing to hinder or hamper you. But 
 I don t want you to speak just because you are a 
 man, and therefore a natural wet blanket. I am a 
 grown woman and not a child, but I am open to rea 
 son, Harry." 
 
 " Eleanor, do exactly as you think best, and I ll 
 stand by you. My private opinion is that this whole 
 fuss is a tempest in a teapot. Why shouldn t you 
 women have a club if you want one ? " 
 
 Eleanor turned away. Her husband was behaving 
 just as she wished him to, yet the note of indulgence 
 annoyed her. The truth was that the word club was 
 a real stumbling-block when women first began to 
 form themselves into that organization. Society, as 
 sociation, any other term had its accepted meaning. 
 Club bore with it an undefined notion that women
 
 156 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 meant to cope with men, that they were rebellious 
 against domesticity and tired of home and home s 
 duties. As it turned out, the club proved the home s 
 ally, and brought into women s lives an element of 
 positive interest and a desire for intellectual develop 
 ment that for the ordinary home-keeping woman 
 were beyond price. The " Fortnightly " in time was 
 as honored by husbands as beloved by wives, but it 
 took time to bring that result.
 
 XVIII 
 A TINY CLOUD 
 
 MATTIE WAUGH and Eleanor Osbourn 
 were inseparable friends, notwithstanding 
 their differences about such subjects as the 
 Fortnightly Club, and when a year after the Os- 
 bourns return there was a little daughter in the 
 Waugh nursery, Eleanor readily agreed to become 
 the child s godmother. 
 
 " Though to tell the truth, Mattie, you might easily 
 find a better person than I," she said modestly. 
 
 " Both my husband and I choose you," was the re 
 ply, and Eleanor taking her duties seriously began to 
 think what she should do, when Lois Waugh 
 should be old enough to go to Sunday-school; how 
 she should help the parents in training their little one 
 for heaven. 
 
 In the fullness of his pride and joy, Donald laughed 
 at her, when nobody but Mattie was by. He felt 
 quite equal to the task of training a dozen children 
 and supervising their religious education, but if 
 Mattie wanted godfathers and godmothers, he was 
 ready to oblige her. Indeed it was very seldom that 
 Mattie Waugh did not direct her life, and control her 
 husband according to her own notions of what was 
 most desirable. 
 
 "Thinking of Lois," observed Eleanor, when the 
 baby was a few weeks old, " I have decided to start 
 a Bible class." 
 
 57
 
 158 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 "You have?" 
 
 "Yes, Harry; down in Old Field Hollow, at the 
 mills." 
 
 " You cannot go there alone! I m sure you ought 
 not even to think of it." 
 
 "Why not ? " Eleanor was astonished. 
 
 "Neighborhood s too rough, there are loo many 
 dangerous characters prowling around. 1 shouldn t 
 dare to let you try it." 
 
 " But Harry, you might come too." 
 
 At this Harry hesitated. A Christian man, he had 
 a strange aversion to teaching or speaking, or in any 
 way putting himself in the foreground. Eleanor 
 struggled hard to win him from what she thought 
 was morbidness, and, her idea developing in the 
 course of a week or two, she proposed that he should 
 start a series of meetings for young men, in the Hol 
 low, letting them follow her afternoon class. Harry 
 had not suffered her to go without his escort or that 
 of Max Pomfret, on any of her visits, though she was 
 a good deal annoyed and declared she preferred to go 
 alone. 
 
 "You see, Harry," she explained, "when you 
 walk there with me, and stroll about without an ob 
 ject, every man, woman and child who sees you, is 
 perfectly aware why you come. They know as well 
 as if I wore a label that you think I m too precious to 
 be left where I may meet a drunken man." 
 
 Instantly that she had said it, she had the shamed 
 perception of the woman who has blundered into 
 saying the wrong thing, and to cover her error she 
 went on talking very fast indeed. By a tacit under- 
 Standing no allusion was ever made by either of them
 
 A TINT CLOUD 159 
 
 to the bygone period of Harry s lapses from sobriety. 
 That was a closed chapter. Eleanor rattled on, and 
 hoped that she had safely diverted the talk into 
 another channel, when her husband interrupted her. 
 
 "I beg your pardon, Eleanor. Just now you did 
 say a very true thing. I don t want you thrown into 
 contact with those poor fellows down there. Sun 
 days they are worse than other days, for they have 
 spent Saturday s earnings or part of them in the 
 saloons, veritable hell s kitchens, some of them, and 
 there s a feeling that is not very kind abroad in that 
 quarter. You may win the children as much as you 
 please. You may go there clothed in your plainest 
 gown. The unrest in the air is like malaria. They 
 know me for Donald Waugh s attorney, and you for 
 Mrs. Donald Waugh s friend. Your elegant home is 
 on the Hill near that of the Waughs . At the moment 
 the Waughs are not loved, and a drunken man might 
 do you a mischief. I would rather you hadn t taken 
 up the Sunday-school idea at this particular crisis. 
 Since you have, I must protect you. It is my right." 
 
 "I don t understand," Eleanor s face was puzzled. 
 "The whole support of the Hollow people comes 
 from the work they get in the mills and Donald is a 
 just employer." 
 
 "Surely he is, but he lives in luxury, and thgy in 
 thriftlessness and want, and they make comparisons. 
 A strike is imminent, and the mills may shut down. 
 If they do, there will be suffering. Donald won t 
 yield an inch to the demands that will soon be made 
 on him." 
 
 "Harry, you know as well as I, that there would 
 not be such anguish of poverty if the men were tem-
 
 160 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 perate. Why won t you try to help them ? I am so 
 very sure you could, and sure you ought." 
 
 "Once for all, Eleanor, because humility becomes 
 me. A reformed man ought to take a back seat. 
 And you can t know what 1 ought to do! " 
 
 He left her abruptly, went to his den up-stairs and 
 shut the door. They did not meet for some hours, 
 and the subject was not resumed. 
 
 Meanwhile Eleanor who was not to be easily turned 
 when she had set her head in any given path, went 
 continually to the Hollow, not on Sundays only, but 
 repeatedly on one or another errand on week days. 
 To the latter, Harry made no objection. The men 
 weie then at work, the streets deserted, and she 
 might minister comfort and counsel, if she wished, to 
 the women and children. 
 
 Curiously, the women refused her advances, and 
 she was piqued. Never before had her father s 
 daughter found people insensible to her personal 
 charm. She asked her mother what the reason could 
 possibly be, going to Mrs. Lee with the bewilderment 
 of a baffled child. 
 
 "They act as if I had no right to step into their 
 homes, mother." 
 
 " What right have you, dear ? " 
 
 " Why, I don t know. My object is to help them, 
 to show them how to keep house and mend their 
 clothes, and bring up their boys and girls." 
 
 " But have they asked your assistance ? " 
 
 "Why no. Only as I ve started a Bible class, and 
 am making some sacrifices for those people, I have a 
 sort of privilege." 
 
 "Now, Eleanor, you began that class for your own
 
 A TINT CLOUD 161 
 
 pleasure, to satisfy your own desire to be up and 
 doing. To those who have entered it you have a 
 duty, but to the rest of the Old Field Hollow folk, 
 your intrusion in their home life savors of some im 
 pertinence. Would you enjoy having a stranger call 
 on you, and straightway put through some such cate 
 chism as this: 
 
 " Good-morning, what a bright day this is. Has 
 your husband work ? Does he bring home his wages ? 
 Have you any children who can help you? Why do 
 you not burn your cinders ? It is very wasteful to 
 throw them away. 1 think your front yard is not very 
 tidy. Will you plant flower-seeds if 1 give you 
 some? And so on. I submit to you, Eleanor, that 
 a rich woman has no more right, uninvited and un 
 announced, to invade the home of a poor woman, 
 than the latter would have, were she to undertake 
 the opposite thing. I wonder they don t sweep you 
 out with their brooms! " 
 
 "Mother! " 
 
 "I mean it, Eleanor." 
 
 " And you think me intrusive and officious ? " 
 
 "Not with intention, but in reality." 
 
 Faithful are the wounds of a friend and a 
 mother; I ll think this over," said Eleanor, who in 
 bravery of silk attire was on her way to a meeting of 
 the " Fortnightly." 
 
 She went down the steps and came back. 
 
 "Mother!" she called, and her eyes were full of 
 tears. 
 
 " What, my daughter ? " Mrs. Lee was troubled by 
 the distress in her face. Eleanor was hurt by some 
 thing and showed it.
 
 1 62 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 "Have you noticed that Harry is not well lately; 
 that he is not cheery, nor quick in the uptake, as the 
 Scotch say ? Is there anything you have noticed ? " 
 
 " Dick Deland was speaking of Harry last evening. 
 He fancies him overworked." 
 
 "There is something not quite right. I wish we 
 had not left the South. The rush of the North is too 
 much for Harry, I am afraid." 
 
 "Don t borrow trouble, Eleanor. A man may 
 have a passing touch of malaria, or may be a little 
 worn. I m sure you should not worry." 
 
 There was some cause for anxiety if not for worry. 
 Suddenly without evident reason, a dam may give 
 way, weakened by a break that has been unsus 
 pected. Harry Osbourn was not a physically strong 
 man. His past had told upon him, both its hardships 
 and its excesses, and forced into a field of relentless 
 work, under great pressure, where the rewards were 
 large, but the efforts also incessant, he was not quite 
 able to bear the strain. He grew irritable and de 
 pressed. There came over him at times an impulse 
 to drop everything. He was losing his grip. 
 
 As in a flash light Eleanor saw it all, she even read 
 between the lines, some of the temptations he did not 
 put into speech. Half beside himself, without a valid 
 reason for being so, Harry Osbourn was meditating 
 flight. Absolutely without motive, except the desire 
 to run away. Could it be held in abeyance from 
 without ? 
 
 It was Max Pomfret who put Eleanor on her guard. 
 He was walking home with her from her class one 
 Sunday. 
 
 "I venture a good deal, Mrs. Osbourn," he said,
 
 A TINT CLOUD 163 
 
 abruptly, "but you ve got to watch Harry. He s not 
 normal at present, don t you know." 
 
 What do you mean ? " 
 
 " Well, dear lady, I mean only that Harry is giving 
 way. If 1 were you, I d just let somebody else look 
 after these kids awhile, and I d look after my man at 
 home." 
 
 " Thank you," said Eleanor at last, after they had 
 walked a block in silence. 
 
 "Is there any reason you know of, why Harry 
 can t hold his own ? Is Mr. Waugh driving him too 
 hard ? " She always had a suspicion ready there. 
 
 "None in the world. But, madam, the man s 
 tired out." 
 
 They went on. Mrs. Osbourn asked Max in, but 
 he declined. He would come after supper as usual 
 on Sunday evening and they would sing.
 
 XIX 
 DO DUTIES CONFLICT? 
 
 THE Sunday night supper was always a very 
 pleasant time in Eleanor s home. Her mother 
 and sister came in, and plates were laid for 
 guests who might happen to call; a man away from 
 home, or a young girl in business all the week, and 
 living in a boarding-house. That the extra work 
 might not burden the maids, almost everything for 
 the meal was prepared on Saturday, and the ladies 
 themselves set the table and afterwards washed the 
 dishes and put them away. A knack with the 
 chafing dish enabled Eleanor to add a hot dish to 
 the menu, and this bit of home cooking and home 
 comfort with a loving home welcome gave many a 
 young woman or man, far from father and mother, a 
 real lift on the road. In a manufacturing town, op 
 portunities for this sort of service abound, and it re 
 quires only the gentle thought so to extend a cup of 
 cold water to one of Christ s little ones. Mrs. Pom- 
 fret s silver hair and birdlike daintiness were an at 
 traction when she was with Max, for nothing is 
 lovelier than a lovely old gentlewoman, both for the 
 grace she confers and from an artistic view-point. A 
 house that never has known a grandmother s presence 
 has missed a benediction. Max was never absent. 
 He lounged and loafed, and was somewhat reminis 
 cent of pipes and smoke, yet nevertheless he talked 
 
 164
 
 DO DUTIES CONFLICT? 165 
 
 well on occasion, and could be an agreeable com 
 panion. Men liked Max ; men as dissimilar as Donald 
 Waugh and Harry Osbourn found pleasure in chatting 
 with him, and in his various vicissitudes he had 
 picked up odds and ends of information and a 
 knowledge of human nature that made him inter 
 esting. 
 
 "He, if anybody, ought to take a back seat," 
 reflected Eleanor whimsically, "but it is the last 
 thing he thinks of doing. Notwithstanding all the 
 trouble and anxiety Max Pomfret s past conduct has 
 cost, he goes serenely on, without remorse or regret, 
 so far as one can see, just living in the present hour, 
 while my Harry has not shaken off the weird of the 
 evil spirit that held him so long. Harry is the morbid 
 one, not Max." 
 
 It had come to her in a glimpse of revelation that 
 she was leaving Harry to brood, while gradually the 
 new engagements that filled her time, were taking 
 her a good deal from home. She could not honestly 
 blame the Fortnightly Club for this. Its hour of 
 meeting conflicted with no hour of leisure for Harry, 
 and the time it required her to spend in study was 
 time spent at home. But whatever caused it, she 
 could not evade the conclusion, that she was becom 
 ing a preoccupied woman, a woman with so many 
 and such peremptory calls upon her mind, that she 
 could give her husband only a half-hearted attention 
 much of the time. 
 
 "Mother," she said as she helped Mrs. Lee off with 
 her wraps in her pretty room up-stairs, "tell me, do 
 duties clash ? Am I growing into a person who is 
 pulled in two ways ? Have I ceased to be restful ?"
 
 1 66 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 Mrs. Lee laughed. 
 
 "My precious, you have never been precisely 
 restful. Vehement, breezy, stimulating, are the ad 
 jectives I would apply to you. But why this cate 
 chism ?" 
 
 "Max has made me uneasy about Harry." 
 
 Mrs. Lee s face expressed concern. 
 
 "Yes? Harry is not looking well. I ve noticed 
 that." 
 
 "What can I do?" 
 
 "Nothing now, except to watch for the right lead 
 ing, or rather, let yourself be led. I would spend 
 my Sundays with him for awhile, I think, and hand 
 over that class so nicely organized now to somebody 
 else. Kathleen and Dick, and some of their friends 
 might try it." 
 
 " Do you think they would ? Dick makes so much 
 fun of my philanthropies and so does Kathleen." 
 
 " I know. Still 1 am of the opinion that, to relieve 
 you, they wouldn t shrink from this special task. 
 Our reading and talks lately have been on suggestive 
 lines, and we, at home, have been finding out that 
 we are much too lazy and self-indulgent, so I am 
 very hopeful that you may pass this bit of work on 
 to your sister." 
 
 " Mother, when in the world are those two going 
 to be married?" 
 
 "Don t ask me, child. I am thankful for every 
 hour that I can keep Kathleen with me, and Dick has 
 some home claims that he cannot cast off." 
 
 " A long engagement is most undesirable. Mother, 
 don t you agree with me, that something should be 
 done to hasten the wedding day? "
 
 DO DUTIES CONFLICT? 167 
 
 " Indeed no, dear child, I do not. In this as in 
 most cases, I have learned to wait the Lord s leading. 
 Dick and Kathleen are both young, and the present 
 is a happy time for them. I won t try to hurry 
 Providence." 
 
 They found the drawing-room filled with a cheer 
 ful group of people. Harry had brightened up, and 
 was as entertaining as usual. Eleanor slipped her 
 hand into his as she passed him, and gave him a look 
 of love that was as heartening as a caress, and his 
 glance was swiftly responsive. Later she saw with 
 new comprehension, the droop of his figure as he 
 sat a little apart when they were singing after supper, 
 and the absent far away look of his eyes. Clearly, 
 Harry Osbourn was not well. 
 
 Kathleen played and they sang dearly loved 
 anthems and chorals, and then, settling down in a 
 circle, they had a half hour s reading before they 
 separated. Sunday evening services were not com 
 mon in Islington. People went to church morning 
 and afternoon, and by a little after ten at night, in 
 those simple days, the silent curfew had given its 
 signal and everybody was at home and in bed. 
 
 That night, as they were undressing, Eleanor 
 turned abruptly to Harry and said, " What ails you, 
 dear? You are somehow not yourself." 
 
 "There s nothing the matter that I know of Nellie. 
 I m, maybe, restless." 
 
 "There s a good deal the matter, Harry. You can t 
 deceive your wife. Why don t I know you, dear, 
 through and through, every thought before you speak 
 it ? If you are not well, or are troubled, why not 
 confide in me ? Can you not trust my affection ? "
 
 1 68 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 "My dear wife, I have nothing to confide. I can t 
 stand the pace here, somehow, that s all." 
 
 Eleanor sat down. Her hair was around her 
 shoulders like a rippling veil; her dressing gown 
 open a little at the throat, showed her white neck, 
 the loose sleeves fell from her rounded arms. Her 
 husband, standing opposite her, thought he had 
 never seen a fairer vision. She looked up into his 
 face, her eyes tenderly compelling. 
 
 "We ve gone through a good deal together, you 
 and I," she said. " I can bear anything, Harry. 
 But if there is anything wrong I want to know it." 
 
 "There s nothing, my darling, except what 1 tell 
 you. This husband of yours is a failure. 1 can t 
 stand the pace. I m not a big enough man to under 
 take the work Donald Waugh cuts out for me, and 
 I can t make money enough to live and meet the ex 
 penses we are having here. I tell you this, Eleanor, 
 with shame. Why you of all women, should be 
 married to a man inadequate to the occasion, and 
 have to carry him for your lifelong burden, I can t 
 see. Lately I ve been rather hoping that I might not 
 last very long. Then, you d be free." 
 
 Eleanor s cheek had taken on a red stain glowing 
 as the heart of a jacqueminot rose. It was in her a 
 sign of deep emotion. 
 
 "As if your dying and leaving me would do any 
 thing except break my heart," she said. "Oh! 
 Harry, what a foolish dear fellow you are. Of 
 course Donald makes you work too hard. I might 
 have expected that, but he s a just man, and cannot 
 go on exacting the impossible. The whole of the 
 matter is that you ve been losing cases instead of
 
 DO DUTIES CONFLICT? 169 
 
 gaining them, and you are losing faith in yourself, 
 and maybe you need a change of some sort. If we 
 are spending too much, why, we ll spend less. 
 Why didn t you speak sooner, my darling? Now, 
 cheer up, everything will come out right." 
 
 "And you don t despise me?" he said. "You 
 love, notwithstanding everything?" It was almost 
 the same question Donald had a few weeks before 
 asked Mattie. Strange that love demands so many 
 declarations. 
 
 " Love you, of course I love you, Harry." 
 
 " And all this feverish rushing here and there, and 
 working in the highways and the byways, and doing 
 good by wholesale, all this hasn t stolen away your 
 heart from me, has it, my dear ? " 
 
 "Certainly not." Eleanor felt vexed. It was so 
 unreasonable. To have her lofty mood intruded 
 upon by this note that seemed to her petty and 
 utterly needless was a distinct jar. It is not always 
 easy for a man and a woman to understand each 
 other, even though they are wife and husband and 
 have spent years in the ceaseless comradeship of life s 
 most intimate relation. Eleanor was quick-tempered, 
 and a retort was on her tongue, but she checked it, 
 and spoke pleasantly. She needed self-restraint now 
 if ever. 
 
 "I m afraid I ve been gadding about too much, 
 Harry, but I ll be your stay-at-home wife hereafter. 
 You look tired, dear; don t let us talk any more to 
 night." 
 
 As had been their recent custom they had good 
 night prayers together. Eleanor sat beside the 
 shaded lamp and read a psalm, and they knelt and
 
 170 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 asked help from One who never is asked in vain. 
 But they talked long before they went to sleep. 
 
 Next morning when she was sealing the last of 
 her letters, and gratefully felt that her correspondence 
 for the day was off her hands, Eleanor had a caller. 
 Donald Waugh was announced and with the freedom 
 of the friend of the family walked into her morning 
 room. 
 
 " Mattie tells me," he said, "that you and she 
 have a plan on foot for getting up a model restaurant 
 and reading-room at the mills, for the young 
 women. Improvement, I understand from her, of 
 their physical health, and their intellects, such as they 
 have, is the aim you have in view. The idea strikes 
 me as feasible, and, unless you run away into waste 
 fulness and mere show, I ll stand back of you with 
 cash. I am fully aware, Mrs. Osbourn, that the idea 
 did not originate with my wife and therefore I take 
 it, she is simply following you." 
 
 His shrewd eyes gleamed and then softened. His 
 knowledge of Eleanor was not the superficial judg 
 ment of a new acquaintance. He thought he guaged 
 her very accurately, and, the softness passing from 
 his look, he proceeded sententiously. 
 
 " I can talk to you freely without giving offense. 
 I m not going to have my work-people spoiled by 
 fads, or by pity. They do their work under fairly 
 good conditions in a fairly good environment, and 
 they are well paid. Never in my life have I been tol 
 erant of sentiment, as sentiment. But I m willing to 
 try this experiment, within reason, and to back you 
 and Mattie, as Mattie has set her heart on the thing. 
 I m putting it ungraciously, I m afraid. I ve had that
 
 DO DUTIES CONFLICT? 171 
 
 misfortune all my life when I ve talked with you, 
 Nellie." 
 
 The childish diminutive slipped out before he knew 
 it. The man was of granite, but there were rifts in 
 the rock. He would never get over the habit of 
 friendliness when he talked with the woman he had 
 petted in her babyhood. 
 
 " You are just exactly as you always are, Donald," 
 said Eleanor, " the best hearted old bear in the world. 
 If you had come to me Saturday and said all this, I 
 would have been the happiest creature in Islington. 
 As it is, I m afraid I can t avail myself of your good 
 ness, and I fear Mattie must look for somebody else 
 to help her; I m sure I ll not have the time." 
 
 Donald looked amazed. 
 
 "Mattie will do nothing without you, Eleanor. 
 You would be right hand, right eye, right foot in 
 such an undertaking. She hates initiative as much 
 as you love it. Besides, she has the baby, and her 
 time is very full." 
 
 Again his rugged face softened. Fatherhood trans 
 figured it. When Donald held his child in his arms, 
 he was another man from the mill-owner who trod 
 the streets like an autocrat; from the severe look 
 ing deacon who passed the plate on Sunday like an 
 austere saint of the middle ages. As he now spoke 
 of the baby, a smile like sunshine lit the square- 
 hewn countenance. He rubbed his large capable 
 hands together. How proud he was of that baby at 
 home! Dear little Lois! 
 
 " Whence this sudden change of intention ? " 
 
 A little mockery, was it possible, stole into his 
 tone.
 
 172 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 " Can it be that you are taking the sensible view> 
 that you perceive that the discontent of the working 
 class should be discounted by sensible people, that 
 you are ready to acknowledge yourself mistaken in 
 some of the compassion you have been expending?" 
 
 "Oh, for pity s sake, Donald Waugh, be still," 
 exclaimed Eleanor, blazing up in an instant. " I am 
 far on the road to socialism all through you! Your 
 work-people have wretched unsanitary homes. 
 Their work is monotonous and maddening. Your 
 factories are ill-ventilated and dirty. When I see the 
 train of women and girls, pale, sallow, hollow-eyed, 
 round shouldered, and tired to death, that files out of 
 your mills every night at half past five, I m beside 
 myself with sympathy. Want to help them, do 1 ? 
 Yes, with my whole heart, and with both hands. But 
 this isn t a task to be thrown on Mattie and me. She 
 has her baby, I have my husband. Donald, do it 
 yourself, if you are convinced it should be done. 
 Build a reading room and start a restaurant, and en 
 gineer it all, as only you can. Get Miss Rachel to 
 take hold. She has a head. I ve got my work cut 
 out at home. Something s amiss with Harry." 
 
 Donald rose, and held out his hand. 
 
 " Eleanor," he said, " if anybody but you dared to 
 talk to me as you do, I d resent it. I d resent it 
 fiercely. But you are privileged. I ll think over 
 what you ve said. You are on the right road if you 
 mean to devote yourself to Osbourn. He s not all 
 right, but, for the life of me, I can t make out why. 
 Here, too, remember, if you need a friend, you and 
 he may always count on me." 
 
 He bowed himself out. There were worse men
 
 DO DUTIES CONFLICT? 173 
 
 in the earth than this same grim, granite-natured Don 
 ald Waugh. 
 
 Eleanor sat a good while thinking over the inter 
 view. She took down finally, at random, a little 
 book from the shelf of her desk, and opened it to 
 this passage. 
 
 "One evening when Luther saw a little bird 
 perched on a tree, to roost there for the night, he 
 said, This little bird has had its supper, and now it 
 is getting ready to go to sleep here, quite secure and 
 content, never troubling itself what its food will be, 
 or where its lodging on the morrow. Like David, it 
 abides under the shadow of the Almighty. It sits on 
 its little twig content and lets God take care. " 
 
 The little incident that had comforted the great 
 Martin Luther, had its lesson of consolation for the 
 woman who found it when she was riot seeking a 
 message. She put on her hat and went out into 
 God s bright morning and the fresh sweet air.
 
 XX 
 DONALD INTERFERES 
 
 WHEN Donald left Eleanor and walked 
 towards the mills, his mind was an arena 
 of opposite contentions. Eleanor s plain- 
 speaking somewhat amused him. He certainly could 
 not be expected to change his point of view, the 
 view-point of a lifetime, at the hot words of a 
 woman, who was nothing, if not tempestuous. 
 Donald knew far more than she did about the 
 seething undercurrents of agitation among factory 
 operatives all over the land. The mutterings of a 
 coming storm were even now heard in various 
 quarters, strikes were threatening here and there; 
 the figure of the obnoxious, half-educated and turbu 
 lent orator, who is invariably ready to feed the flame 
 of a smouldering dissatisfaction with fiery argu 
 ments, was looming up in the near distance. Saloons 
 were rapidly multiplying. Donald passed them on 
 every corner, for alas! with the growth of Islington 
 in beauty and luxury, keeping step with that growth, 
 had come another of rampant vice and temptation. 
 The saloon was a menace to the peace and purity of the 
 town, and its twin, the gambling-den was lurking in 
 the shadows. Donald was disposed to deny nearly 
 every count of Eleanor s indictment. Nevertheless, 
 something deep down in his soul, the strong, straight 
 element in the man that made for righteousness was
 
 DONALD INTERFERES 175 
 
 on her side. Likewise, he thrilled with a feeling of 
 pity for her, she seemed so fitted by her charm and 
 grace, and the rare qualities of a rich nature for a life 
 of social leadership, of ease and happiness, that one 
 wondered why she had not achieved it. Instead, she 
 was still to be, Donald felt, a being, storm-tossed and 
 blown about by winds of an unknown fate, a driven 
 leaf. Donald realized, as he seldom had, the puzzle 
 of the world. 
 
 On the whole, he was rather pleased to carry out 
 the undertaking himself in his own way without 
 feminine flutterings, balancings and continual changes 
 of adjustment. He sent for an architect and ordered 
 plans drawn out in accordance with instructions very 
 clearly given. This, too, before he left his office for 
 home that afternoon. 
 
 He was a good deal disturbed about Harry Osbourn. 
 The man was breaking in some subtle way, and it 
 was too soon for him to break. Yet there was noth 
 ing on which to set a definite finger. A little erratic, 
 a little unable to hold to the point, at times moody, 
 at other times irritable, again surpassingly clever, 
 never anything but courteous, Osbourn was an 
 enigma to him. The soul of honor, Donald felt him 
 to be, and with all who knew Harry, deemed him 
 above suspicion, yet there were times when he had a 
 certain furtiveness, as of one who had something to 
 conceal. Donald shook his big shoulders with im 
 patience, as he thought of it, and repeated almost 
 what Harry himself had said, repeated it aloud in the 
 privacy of his own inner office, "The pace is too 
 swift for him, I ought to have left him in the South." 
 
 Meanwhile the tide suddenly turned in Harry s
 
 176 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 favor, and he won two or three cases, just as he had 
 lost two or three. These were before a jury, and in 
 pleading with a jury to listen, he was at his best. At 
 home Eleanor quietly reconstructed the domestic cab 
 inet, cutting down her force of servants, and in 
 stituting a new economy. She was unobtrusively at 
 hand when her husband needed her, walking with 
 him in the morning, meeting him at night and coax 
 ing him to take little roundabout trips with her on 
 their way home. Islington no longer had stages as 
 of old, when an omnibus accommodating twelve 
 passengers, was its only public conveyance, except a 
 hired coach, and people who did not keep horses did 
 a great deal of walking, to the advantage of health 
 and neighborliness. When one walks to and fro, 
 one also runs in upon a friend for a cup of tea and a 
 half hour s chat. Islington had accepted the inno 
 vation of the horse car, and many short rides and 
 little jaunts were made practicable at small expense. 
 Eleanor and Harry took the horse cars on every pre 
 text, to the amusement of Dick and Kathleen and 
 the annoyance of Mrs. Lee, who thought the new 
 order of things much too democratic. What would 
 they have said to cable cars and trolleys ? Months 
 passed by quietly and without incident in the home 
 chronicles, until there dawned a very bright day for 
 Eleanor Osbourn. Once more the Angel of Life 
 crossed her threshold, and this time the son who was 
 laid in her arms, a strong sturdy boy, came to stay. 
 
 Is there any joy like it, the joy that floods a house 
 hold when God sends it a little child ? When God 
 would show forth His great love to a weary and sin 
 ful and suffering world, He sent forth His only be-
 
 DONALD INTERFERES 177 
 
 gotten Son, a babe cradled in a mother s arms, and 
 laid to sleep in a manger. But heaven was all astir 
 with the gladness of it and the greatness of the gift, 
 and the angels in a flaming host, leaned down the 
 midnight sky to strike their harps and sing, " Glory 
 to God in the highest, on earth peace, good-will to 
 men." In a less degree, a fainter measure, there is 
 joy whenever any little one comes " trailing clouds of 
 glory," to bless an earthly home. 
 
 The rich man counteth his cares 
 
 By the shining gowd in s hand, 
 By s ships that sail on the sea, 
 
 By s harvests that whiten the land. 
 The puir man counteth his blessings 
 
 By the ring o voices sweet, 
 By the hope that glints in bairnies een. 
 
 By the sound o bairnies feet. 
 
 An it s welcome hame, my darlin , 
 
 Hame to mither and me ! 
 An it s never may ye find less o luve, 
 
 Than the luve ye brought wi ye ! 
 Cauld are the blasts o the wild wind, 
 
 An rough the warld may be, 
 But warm is the hame o the wee one 
 
 In the hearts o mither an me. 
 
 One discovers sentiment where one least expects 
 it. One does not go prospecting for sentiment in the 
 counting-room or the lawyer s office, yet in the 
 pockets of men, both business and professional, one 
 often finds a simple bit of homely verse like this, 
 treasured up and folded away in the wallet among 
 the bank bills and receipts. 
 Harry pulled himself together after the boy s arrival,
 
 178 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 and a halcyon interval dawned for him and his. Mean 
 while Donald was proceeding in his accustomed mas 
 terful fashion, and the new edifice for the comfort and 
 improvement of women-operatives in the factory rose 
 from foundation stone to roof. 
 
 In the very beginning of the enterprise Donald 
 made a characteristic blunder. It was in choosing 
 the site. As the whole of the Old Field Hollow was 
 his property, he naturally considered himself within 
 his rights in tearing down and building up wherever 
 he pleased. Unfortunately the Hollow had been let 
 alone so long that the shackly houses and reeking 
 tenements there had grown familiar arid dear to the 
 occupants, who were bitterly and furiously angry 
 when obliged to remove, because the owner had de 
 cided to tear down a certain rookery, and erect anew 
 and fine building where it had been standing. Other 
 and better houses offered these people shelter at rea 
 sonable rates, houses which might almost be styled 
 models of convenience and hygiene, with laundry 
 tubs and basins for running water and other pleasant 
 features. They scorned such fine apartments and en 
 tered them under protest, proceeding to mar them by 
 neglect. As Donald s beautiful brick building rose, 
 story by story, the very girls for whom it was 
 planned, surveyed it superciliously, while their 
 fathers and mothers sullenly declared that the scheme 
 was something meant to give the "old man" more 
 money. 
 
 " If I were looking for gratitude, Mattie, I d be dis 
 appointed," said Donald one day, "but I know the 
 working-man and his class too well for that. They 
 don t know the alphabet of gratitude."
 
 DONALD INTERFERES 179 
 
 " Don t be a pessimist, Donald," laughed Mattie. 
 
 He lifted his little daughter to his shoulder, and let 
 her touch the chandelier with her small rosy fingers. 
 
 " I am not a pessimist, Mattie," he answered. " I 
 might be, but for my home." 
 
 " When the doors are opened, and the young peo 
 ple learn that the whole place is theirs, and not ours, 
 you will see a different state of feeling in the 
 Hollow." 
 
 " I hope so, Mattie. May God grant it." 
 
 After a pause he went on, " People call me a 
 hard man. I have never known why. From my 
 boyhood I ve had to fight my way inch by inch, but 
 I ve tried to do the right thing, and I m soft-hearted 
 underneath; I really am." 
 
 "Nobody understands that better than I do," said 
 his wife.
 
 XXI 
 
 A HALL OF REST 
 
 FLOWERS in the windows, a grand piano, a 
 dining-room with small tables, each provided 
 with delicate napkins and cloth, and supplied 
 with fine blue china, a big bright parlor, with divans, 
 easy chairs and rockers, and in brief every home like 
 equipment that could be thought of, were parts of 
 the admirable and beautiful house which Donald 
 called a Hall of Rest, and opened for his women 
 operatives. 
 
 The lavatories alone were sumptuous, with bath 
 rooms where tiled floors and walls, and nickel-plated 
 fittings surpassed anything ever before seen in the 
 Hollow. There were in fact people there who had 
 never seen a bath-room at all. 
 
 Mattie and Eleanor went through the spacious edi 
 fice, attending to its final furnishing, selecting books 
 for its library and periodicals for its reading room, 
 with a delight that knew no bounds. The place, as 
 a place, was simply perfect, lacking nothing that 
 taste or money could add to it, and Mattie enthusi 
 astically entered into the plans for its opening. Here 
 she made her first mistake. 
 
 " I think it would be a good idea," she said, "to 
 have a reception for our friends, and the ministers of 
 Islington, and the common council and everybody of 
 
 1 80
 
 A HALL OF REST 181 
 
 note, before we formally hand this over to the girls. 
 If you approve, dear, I ll send out the invitations at 
 once." 
 
 Donald approved, this step commending itself to 
 his judgment as an eminently appropriate thing. 
 Every one responded, for there had been no little 
 curiosity about this new departure of Mr. Waugh s 
 as a practical philanthropist, and when the day ap 
 pointed arrived, a stream of carriages blocked the 
 way, and gaily dressed ladies thronged the Hollow 
 for several hours of the afternoon. As the works 
 closed for the day, and the long procession of stoop- 
 shouldered, haggard, weary-eyed girls and women 
 issued from the gates, on their way homeward, they 
 encountered the prosperous, merry, laughing crowd 
 who to them represented what they called "the 
 quality." These people they thought were arrayed 
 like the lilies of the fields because somebody else did 
 their toiling and their spinning, the somebody else in 
 their view being the laboring population, faring, 
 worn and discouraged to its supper, snatching what 
 pleasure it could find in the streets, and seeing much 
 of its hard earned wages disappear every Saturday 
 night, in the till of the saloon keeper. 
 
 " All hof Rest hindeed! " cried a red-faced English 
 woman, known as " Gypsey Mary," " All hof Rest! 
 They s never ave hit, but for the sweat of our 
 brows." 
 
 "Oh, mother," pleaded Mary s pretty young 
 daughter, "you re not goin to be against it, are you? 
 There s so many nice things there, and I want to 
 rock in the chairs, and take baths, in those big white 
 tubs."
 
 i82 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 "Don t you worry, Betsey," the mother looked 
 with tender pride on the slim girl whose blue eyes 
 were so appealingly raised to hers. " Don t you 
 worry, you get hall the good you can hout of this 
 all, twon t last so long hany ow." 
 
 The hall was thrown open to the Hollow people 
 with special ceremony, and a fine amateur concert 
 was given to signalize its first evening. The young 
 ladies of Islington, with a sweet faced matron at the 
 head of each group, took on themselves the duty of 
 presiding over the dining-room at the noon hour, and 
 over the evenings, where clubs and classes were 
 soon started and free lectures were announced. A 
 competent cook and janitor were installed; no bur 
 densome restrictions were laid upon the house or its 
 visitors, and, to save their pride and prevent their 
 feeling of being pauperized, a fee was required for 
 entrance upon the classes, and every item on the 
 bill of fare, from soups to pastry, was charged for at 
 a nominal sum. 
 
 The girls came from curiosity at the outset, and 
 reported at home what they had to eat, and how it 
 was served. The mothers sniffed scornfully and al 
 luded to airs, stating with emphasis that no such 
 silly frills and upsetting fusses would ever be allowed 
 in their houses, and the fathers, hard-working men, 
 who might have known better, openly jeered, and 
 talked of "the old man " as making his pile out of it 
 somehow. 
 
 " It s us as pays for that ere place," declared John 
 Thomas, a leader among the men, and a frequent de- 
 claimer in the coteries that gathered in the back room 
 of the corner grocery.
 
 A HALL OF REST 183 
 
 "Don t you be too grateful, Betsey, " said Gypsey 
 Mary, after she had taken a meal at the noon-hour, 
 at one of the dainty tables. 
 
 "I ve known Donald Waugh, boy an man, since 
 I was a slip of a lass myself. E hain t givin some- 
 thin for nothin , now you bet! " 
 
 So the new enterprise born of a genuine desire to 
 please and uplift, had to fight an atmosphere of sus 
 picion and make its way in the face of a smouldering 
 antagonism, that was often voiceless, but constantly 
 hostile. 
 
 Until the sympathies of the employed and the em 
 ployer are identical, until the masses comprehend the 
 classes, until Christ s dear love proves the solvent for 
 every earthly hate, this feeling of thunder in the air 
 will not pass. We wrestle in our blundering and 
 groping charity, not against flesh and blood, but 
 against principalities and powers, unseen and malig 
 nant, and the world-rulers of the darkness unfolding 
 us are potential and obstinate. Still must we cry in 
 our weakness and defeat. 
 
 " Thou, who dost dwell alone, 
 Thou who dost know Thine own, 
 Thou, to whom all are known, 
 From the cradle to the grave, 
 From the world s temptation, 
 From tribulation, 
 From that fierce anguish 
 Wherein we languish, 
 From that torpor deep 
 Wherein we lie asleep, 
 Heavy as death, cold as the grave, 
 Save, oh ! save !
 
 1 84 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 " O where Thy voice doth come 
 Let all doubts be dumb, 
 Let all words be mild, 
 All strifes be reconciled, 
 All pains beguiled ! 
 Light bring no blindness, 
 Love no unkindness, 
 Fear no undoing ! 
 From the cradle to the grave, 
 Save, oh ! save." 
 
 Eleanor read this poem of Matthew Arnold s one 
 morning as she sat by her sleeping baby. So much 
 reading she did by that child s little crib, so much the 
 tiny life was teaching her! A child s development is 
 very rapid in its earliest months and years, but the 
 mother s unfolding is hardly less swift. Eleanor un 
 derstood the mothers in Old Field Hollow, as she 
 never could have done, had not her boy s tiny 
 crumpled fist put the key to their hearts in her hand. 
 
 Donald and Mattie called one day before dinner. 
 Harry Osbourn met them as he always did most 
 genially, and urged them to stay. Eleanor seconded 
 him cordially, though she felt bound to tell them they 
 must take pot-luck, since it was her cook s afternoon 
 out. They needed no urging, and when Max Pom- 
 fret lounged in, he too was invited to remain and 
 they had a merry meal. 
 
 Dinner was half over when the three men at the 
 table sprang up with a startled exclamation. Harry 
 rushed to the window. A red glow lit up the sky. 
 
 "Fire!" he exclaimed. "Fire!" echoed Donald. 
 " It must be at the mills." 
 
 Just then the loud sonorous clang of the alarm bell
 
 A HALL OF RESr 185 
 
 was heard, pealing, pealing, with the note of strenu 
 ous clamor that no other bell repeats. Without a 
 word the men seized hats and coats and were off, on 
 a dead run, in the direction of the nearest car. The 
 cars were already blocked and they tore breathlessly 
 on, only Donald panting and finally stopping, as he 
 lost wind. He had been putting on the flesh of pros 
 perity and time, and running was a bit too much for 
 him. But he gained breath and hurried on. 
 
 Left alone Mattie Waugh and Eleanor looked at one 
 another blankly. They were midway in the dinner, 
 but if there was fire at the mills, they had no further 
 appetite. 
 
 " Suppose we follow our husbands," was Eleanor s 
 suggestion, and Mattie accepted it. They slipped on 
 loose cloaks and tied hoods over their heads, and at 
 once set out, at a quick pace. It was night by this 
 time and the darkness swallowed them up. 
 
 "Nell!" 
 
 "What, dear?" 
 
 There were tears in Mattie s voice. 
 
 "If it s our Hall of Rest, that somebody s set on 
 fire, my heart will break." 
 
 "Nonsense, Mattie. It s not the hall. But maybe 
 the hall will have to be used in a way we didn t in 
 tend, if it s the poor people s own houses that are 
 burning. It may not be one of the mills. Their 
 homes are tinder-boxes." 
 
 "Well, we ll soon know," said Mattie, hurrying 
 Eleanor on. 
 
 They were nearly at the Hollow. They heard the 
 roar of the mill-stream as it broke over the dam, and 
 thf rvthmic throbbing of the engines, like a mighty
 
 1 86 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 pulse, as great columns of water rose and fell in 
 sheets over the red spears of the flame. 
 
 "That blaze is too light to be factory or hall," said 
 Mattie. "The Hollow itself must be on fire. The 
 wind is rising and blowing towards the town. You 
 were right, Eleanor." 
 
 "Hello! What are you doing here?" 
 
 Max was swinging home with his long stride. 
 
 "You go back!" he said. "They ve got the fire 
 under control. Islington s safe for this time." 
 
 " Do you imagine we ve come so far to turn round 
 and go home ? We are both going straight on to see 
 what we can do. I am sure there are people whom 
 we can assist. The women will need us." 
 
 Eleanor spoke very earnestly. 
 
 Max answered her with equal earnestness. 
 
 "Mrs. Osbourn, some of those people are besides 
 themselves with rage. They are standing by their 
 burning houses, and they are ready to do or say any 
 thing. They may insult you. It is no place for 
 ladies." 
 
 "I am not afraid. I d be enraged if I were they. 
 I think if this is their mood they need somebody with 
 woman s wit to cope with it. Come along, Mattie." 
 
 "Well, I ll go back. Can I leave a message for 
 either of you at home?" 
 
 Both had messages to send to housekeeper or 
 nurse, for they did not know how long they might 
 be detained by this new call of duty. 
 
 " I ought perhaps to have mentioned," said Max, 
 as he left, " that 1 was sent back to reassure you, and 
 to tell you to stay where you were, by Mr. Waugh 
 himself."
 
 A HALL OF REST 187 
 
 "Well," replied Mattie cheerfully, "you have de 
 livered your message and obeyed your orders, so that 
 your conscience is clear." 
 
 Pitiful indeed was the scene of desolation and dire 
 confusion which met their eyes when they stood on 
 the edge of the crowd, around the ruins, still red and 
 smoking, of the homes of the Hollow. An indis 
 criminate mass of household stuff, pots, kettles, 
 feather beds, old chairs, and tables, infants cradles, 
 and sewing machines, was heaped in the centre of 
 one street, and women stood about it, wringing their 
 hands in dumb misery. Women, rich and poor, 
 cling to their things, and to see the wreck of 
 furniture familiar by long usage, is always a bitter 
 experience for them to bear. The wife of the 
 millionaire and the queen in her palace feel about 
 this, exactly as Mrs. O Flaherty and Mrs. Mulhavey 
 do, and the latter suffer as acutely as the former 
 when a catastrophe engulfs their Lares and Penates. 
 
 Many of the things in question were expensive and 
 had been bought little by little. Working people 
 have pianos, for instance, and their sons and daugh 
 ters play on them, sometimes very well, finding 
 great joy in the practice of difficult compositions, 
 sometimes, like their avenue brothers and sisters 
 dashing into rag-time tunes. A smile crossed the 
 grim countenance of Donald Waugh, as he saw, by 
 the flame s dying glare, a slender wizen-faced lad, 
 seat himself at the piano somebody had saved and 
 after a little running ripple of melody, break in a 
 clear tenor, into a rollicking song. 
 
 "We won t go home till morning." 
 
 The crowd, despairing, excited, wavering on the
 
 1 88 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 verge of anger, had one of those sudden changes of 
 mood that come to crowds, a change as complete 
 as the veering of the wind from north to south. 
 Everybody joined in the mirthful chorus, and men, 
 women, and children laughed and sang. Everything 
 was not gone. They still had hearts to sing. At 
 the moment this ditty served them better than a 
 hymn. 
 
 Eleanor s silvery soprano lent itself to the strain. 
 Harry struck in with a tremendous bass. When the 
 song ended, at his wife s request Harry lifted up his 
 voice, a voice that carried far and clearly, and in 
 vited every one to come to the Hall of Rest. 
 
 Thither they trooped, the swarthy, grimy firemen, 
 the husbands and wives, and the sleepy children, 
 fathers holding the little ones in their arms, tired 
 women dragging themselves along. As if by magic 
 a supper was prepared and everybody sat down, 
 Donald and Mattie, Eleanor and Harry sitting and 
 breaking bread with the rest. As Donald asked a 
 blessing on the meal, many a man unused to this 
 acknowledgment and prayer, said a quiet amen, and 
 when they ate together, one of the mistakes of the 
 past was retrieved. 
 
 The common need, the common fatigue, the loaf 
 and the cup shared, bind men in brotherhood. 
 
 The people, else without shelter, slept that night 
 in the Hall, and Donald took piles of new blankets 
 from a mill, to cover them from the cold. He went 
 about simply, as man to man, as friend to friend and 
 some who had been drifting from him, knew tte old 
 touch and thrill of fealty again. They would wom 
 for him with greater loyalty hereafter.
 
 A HALL OF REST 189 
 
 Gypsey Mary laid her black head down on the arm 
 of a chair, and cried. Eleanor went to her and 
 kneeling down, put her arms around the sobbing 
 woman. A tempestuous creature always, she was 
 soothed by the loving contact. 
 
 "Don t cry so, Mary," Eleanor pleaded. "Your 
 little girl is safe, and asleep on the lounge yonder, as 
 pretty as a picture. What ails you, dear ? Do hush 
 and tell me." 
 
 " I ve lost mother s clock that I brought from Eng 
 land," wailed Mary. 
 
 " I don t wonder you cry," said Eleanor, " but dear 
 heart, you ve saved your lassie, so be comforted." 
 
 The gray dawn was trembling in the east, when 
 the Hill people wended their steps homeward from 
 the Hollow. They were tired but somehow they felt 
 repaid for a little extra fatigue. In the next month 
 or two they were to get at the hearts and lives of 
 their neighbors in an intimate way hitherto un 
 dreamed of by either side.
 
 XXII 
 SISTER RACHEL 
 
 THE years that had been full of excitement to 
 the younger people had moved so tranquilly 
 for Miss Rachel Waugh, that they had left 
 slight marks upon her placid face or comfortably com 
 pact and ample figure. She had grown stouter, and 
 squarer, but the touch of time had made her younger 
 rather than older. Though tortures would not have 
 wrung the admission from her lips, the relief she 
 had insensibly known when she no longer had the 
 responsibility of looking after her brother, in a 
 material or spiritual way, had been immense, Donald 
 being what plain people consider a "handful." Miss 
 Rachel passed him on to his wife at just the right 
 moment for her own peace. 
 
 Busy and practical to the last degree, the spinster 
 had kept a watchful eye on the proceedings in Old 
 Field Hollow and the management of the Hall of Rest. 
 She was as energetic as of old, and had a good share 
 of the family shrewdness, and it struck her that the 
 Hall was being carried on with quite too much senti 
 ment and under too many different advisers. Until 
 the night of the fire, she refrained from interference, 
 waiting till there should be a good opportunity for 
 her to offer counsel. The morning after that event, 
 she was early on the scene. In short skirt, and stout 
 boots, with a trimly small bonnet and a rough cloth 
 
 190
 
 SISTER RACHEL 191 
 
 jacket, she was a capable figure equipped for action, 
 and as she stepped into the office and extended her 
 hand, her brother grasped it gratefully. The habit 
 of going to Rachel in emergencies had been over 
 laid by many later habits, but it was riot dead, only 
 dormant, and sprang to new life at once. 
 
 "Well, here s a pretty state of affairs! " exclaimed 
 Miss Waugh. "Of course you have telegraphed for 
 tents, as these families must be settled somehow, 
 while you are building new cottages for them, or 
 making some provision that can be permanent." 
 
 " I will send for tents at once," he said. "That s 
 a good idea. How like you to think of it, Rachel! " 
 
 " A woman has to think of the easiest thing," re 
 marked Rachel complacently. "I presume all the 
 burnt-out ones are camping, and rampaging, over 
 here in your beautiful Hall of Rest. Hall of fiddle 
 sticks, I ve called it all along, but there s no reason in 
 having it ruined, now that you ve got it, is there, 
 brother?" 
 
 A broad smile lit up Donald s rugged face. 
 
 "Since there s nobody by, sister Rachel, I ll con 
 fess that I have thus far found that same Hall a some 
 what expensive plaything, and have been gradually 
 coming round to an intention of turning it into a 
 storage v/arehouse. What do you think ? Would 
 not that be a good plan ?" 
 
 " Wouldn t that be a little like running away from 
 a field that was too hard for you ? Old Field Hollow 
 at that! No, Donald, don t give it up now you have 
 it. I ll go over and take command while the place is 
 in such confusion. What is wanted all the time is a 
 head. More than ever just now when this terrible
 
 192 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 thing has demoralized the poor women and disheart 
 ened their husbands. I ll see what can be done." 
 
 The stout, efficient gray-haired woman marched to 
 the rescue not a moment too soon. 
 
 "Here comes Betsey Trotwood," cried Kathleen, 
 clapping her hands. Eleanor and Mattie were equally 
 jubilant. Behind her back, Miss Rachel Waugh was 
 often spoken of as Betsey Trotwood, and if Dickens 
 had ever met her, she might well have posed for that 
 delightful character. She was as kind of heart, as 
 imperious in action, as sensible, and as capable, as 
 her English prototype. 
 
 Nobody could have described the process, but from 
 the instant of Miss Rachel s arrival, the misery of the 
 Hollow was alleviated. As when a household has 
 been at odds, because there is no one to take control, 
 and quiet, is resumed when the mother comes home, 
 so it was with the Hall of Rest, in a very little while 
 after Miss Rachel seized the sceptre. Dinners for 
 every one were prepared in the kitchen, yet the house 
 that was seething and tumultuous, became calm and 
 still. Half a dozen women were set to work at clean 
 ing and scrubbing. The children were packed off to 
 school. By nightfall, every small family among the 
 shelterless, was ensconced in a tent, or several fam 
 ilies were grouped in a larger one, and quiet reigned. 
 Men and women obeyed Miss Waugh, some because 
 of a loyalty that had grown with their growth: oth 
 ers because their neighbors did. Among the newer 
 employees, those who had come from foreign lands, 
 there was nothing of the feudal relation towards the 
 Waughs, which the older people knew, and owned. 
 But every one did what Rachel Waugh bade, and be-
 
 SISTER RACHEL 193 
 
 fore many days there was the sound of axe and ham 
 mer in the Hollow, and the new buildings shot up 
 with magical speed. Work was plenty: there ap 
 peared no cause for complaint, and Donald took three 
 months for a trip to Europe, with Mattie and Lois. 
 Meanwhile Miss Rachel moved bag and baggage into 
 the Hall of Rest, and all by herself established a settle 
 ment. 
 
 From the hour that she took control, a more hu 
 man sentiment entered the doors. She had no par 
 ticular policy except that she was a notable house 
 keeper, and one before whom dirt and cobwebs fled. 
 Her floors at home were speckless, and her table 
 beautifully served, and she brought precisely the same 
 immaculate purity into the Hall that pervaded her 
 domains at home. The women came to her with 
 their troubles, and she had time to hear every story, 
 and homely wit to sort out the grains of wheat from 
 the chaff, and make the tangled skeins smooth. One 
 of the first things she did was to bid the women 
 bring their mending to the Hall, so that they might 
 have a sociable hour while doing it. As she very well 
 knew, mending was not their custom. The poorer 
 people are, as a rule the more they throw away. 
 Miss Rachel, tramping around in her cheery matter- 
 of-fact style, with her sharp eyes that saw without 
 seeming to see, her downright positive common sense, 
 and her good-humored candor, was a woman whom 
 the Hollow understood. 
 
 When she saw Gipsey Mary tired out after a day at 
 the loom, unwilling to sit down and poke her needle 
 in and out of a pair of worn stockings by the light of 
 a kerosene lamp, she did not wonder and comment.
 
 194 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 "I d hate it myself," she said. But she so influ 
 enced Donald, that when he returned from across the 
 water she induced him to give his work-people a Sat 
 urday half holiday all the year round. This time in 
 their hands, for their own, made the women eager to 
 learn and do many housewifely things besides mend 
 ing and darning, and Miss Rachel was a good teacher 
 and leader. She claimed that they spent Sunday 
 more quietly and that there was less noting and 
 drunkenness after the Saturday half-holiday was 
 granted than before. Miss Rachel said little about 
 the saloons, but she taught the Old Field wives to 
 cook well and make good coffee, and the homes be 
 gan to present counter attractions, while the young 
 men were soon not averse to spending their evenings, 
 with the girls, in the Hall of Rest. 
 
 "But sister Rachel," expostulated Mrs. Waugh, 
 " you have hardly any educational work worth speak 
 ing of. No literature classes, no advanced English 
 or mathematics, none of the accomplishments are 
 taught that we hoped for, when we erected this 
 place." 
 
 "Does not the restaurant pay its own expenses?" 
 conclusively replied Miss Rachel. 
 
 "Indeed it does, and more." 
 
 "Are not the houses and the streets cleaner ? Is 
 not the health rate higher? Goodness, child, what 
 do you want? I m repenting in sackcloth over the 
 years I might have been doing good here in the fac 
 tories, but I never knew how. I d repent in ashes 
 too, if they were not so powdery and dusty." 
 
 " But you have so few rules. I ve been looking for 
 those I had printed for the conduct of the girls, and
 
 SISTER RACHEL 195 
 
 hung up in the parlor. Donald thought so well of 
 them." 
 
 "Well, Mattie, if you must know, I trudged up 
 to the attic with those rules and stuck them in the 
 darkest corner. All that I want is to have a clean 
 place here for a pattern, a happy place for sunshine, 
 a quiet place where tired girls may rest, a safe place 
 where young people may do their courting, and a 
 Christian place where we may all praise God. You 
 see, dearie, I m living here. You only stop in every 
 little while." 
 
 " Bless your heart, sister Rachel. 1 believe you 
 have discovered the secret of true charity." 
 
 " This isn t charity, Mattie. It s sisterhood."
 
 XXIII 
 A FRIGHT 
 
 EVEN Miss Rachel s optimism was destined 
 to be put to a very severe test before long. 
 When everything was moving like clock 
 work, when causes of disturbance were eliminated 
 and agitation had given way to apparent content 
 ment, without any warning to speak of, the mill- 
 hands went on strike. 
 
 The shrinkage in values, following a period of over 
 production, made necessary for the manufacturer s 
 protection either a diminuation in the number of 
 hours of labor, or a cut in wages. It was the 
 inevitable swing of the pendulum which may be 
 counted on in every commercial country, since com 
 merce has its ebbs as well as its floods. Not all Miss 
 Rachel s axioms, not all her good examples had 
 sufficed to teach the working people economy. They 
 were children in the kindergarten yet, for all knowl 
 edge of saving or desire to save, so when they were 
 threatened with a small reduction of income, they 
 were angry and appalled. Those who belonged to 
 the ancient order of the wise virgins, and who appre 
 ciated the situation and had no grievances of their 
 own, those who had the wisdom to prefer going 
 on with their work, rather than to sit down in idle 
 ness, were overruled by their labor unions, and had 
 no choice. They presented their alternative to 
 
 196
 
 A FRIGHT 197 
 
 Donald Waugh, either a shorter day at the same rate 
 of payment, or a uniform scale for all workers, the 
 good and the poor alike, or else they would cease 
 work altogether. 
 
 The result was that he shut down the mills. 
 
 Then ensued a time of dreary inaction, and at last 
 of dumb suffering for every one concerned. One by 
 one, the little comforts and luxuries disappeared from 
 the little homes. The cabinet organ, the wife s plush 
 coat and gold earrings, the pictures, the prized china 
 and plated ware, went to the pawn-shop. The strike 
 was wide-spread, and the relief funds of the organ 
 ization were terribly taxed. Donald, incredulous at 
 first that his men could treat him thus, then indignant 
 to the point of a white heat of anger, stayed at home, 
 petted Lois, and took to reading American history. 
 Every day he rode or walked through the mill dis 
 trict, fearless of attack, though warned of danger. 
 His bravery oftener than he knew was his shield, 
 and when it was learned that he refused to call on 
 police or soldiers for aid, the better element among 
 the men patrolled the neighborhood of his mills, and 
 unknown to him, watched over his house on the Hill 
 in the dead of night. They might defy Donald and 
 refuse to serve him, but meanwhile no miscreant 
 should work harm to him or his. 
 
 Eventually the strike was peacefully ended, as 
 strikes frequently are, in a compromise, the em 
 ployer s interests little hurt, his chief loss a great 
 inconvenience, and the employees, much the worse 
 in pocket and peace of mind, for what they had gone 
 through. 
 
 The only episode that threatened to become a
 
 198 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 tragedy occurred the day that little Lois Waugh was 
 lost. 
 
 With her big blue eyes, her crown of clustering 
 curls, red as spun gold, and her downright childish 
 assertiveness, the little maid had been in the habit of 
 visiting the mills with her father whenever she chose. 
 When the strike was announced, Mattie thought it 
 wise to keep Lois at home, but Donald insisted that 
 there was absolutely no danger to any of his family, 
 and picking up his daughter took her in the buggy 
 beside him whenever he liked and wherever he went. 
 
 One day when he stopped longer than usual inside 
 the mill, Lois clambered down from her seat, and 
 went off in search of her Aunt Rachel. Her little 
 white frock and frilled sunbonnet were seen as she 
 slid like a stray sunbeam down the street, but no 
 body saw her go into the Hall; in fact when her 
 father called her, and sent people here and there to 
 look for her, there was no Lois; the earth might 
 have opened her mouth and hidden the child therein 
 for all that could be found of the little one. 
 
 Donald was composed on the outside, but frantic 
 Within. A hundred nameless fears buzzed and 
 hummed in his ear; a keen regret pierced him with a 
 dart. Why had he exposed Lois to an instant s peril, 
 in times when some irresponsible person might loiter 
 around, or some venomous nature revenge himself on 
 the baby s father by carrying her off or keeping her 
 concealed ? Visions of kidnappers floated through his 
 brain. He sent messengers in every direction, and 
 rushed to the hall to consult Miss Rachel. Coming 
 down the steps he met Eleanor, Kathleen Lee and 
 Max Pomfret.
 
 A FRIGHT 199 
 
 "What on earth is the matter, Mr. Waugh ?" ex 
 claimed the last. 
 
 " Matter enough. I ve lost Lois." 
 
 " She can t possibly be lost," said Eleanor. " She s 
 probably playing in somebody s back yard. The 
 children here are wild over Lois." 
 
 "Where did you leave her, Mr. Waugh ? " inquired 
 Kathleen. 
 
 "In the buggy." 
 
 "Could she scramble out ? " 
 
 "With perfect ease." 
 
 " Did anybody see her ? " 
 
 " I seed her," piped up a ragged little boy. " She s 
 gone wid my sister, to play house down by the 
 wiver. Amy s dot a house wight on the adge." 
 
 Donald and Max rushed across lots to the bank of 
 the mill stream, and never had two gentlemen made 
 better time. There, playing on the edge of the 
 stream, her face beaming, her feet wet, her white 
 frock soiled and tumbled, was Lois Waugh, perfectly 
 happy, she and wee Amy Kirby, in an earthly Para 
 dise, with a house made of stones and pebbles, sticks 
 dressed up with rags for dolls, and bits of cracker of 
 which to make a feast. 
 
 " Don t scold her, Mr. Waugh!" said Max. "The 
 child s had a half hour of heaven. You pick her up, 
 and I ll take charge of Amy Kirby." 
 
 "Amy," he asked, "does your mother know you 
 play here ? This is not a nice place for a little girl 
 like you to play in. The big water might splash up 
 and drag you in and drown you." 
 
 " Mammy doesn t care where I play, if I se a dood 
 dirl," answered Amy with conviction. Nor indeed
 
 200 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 did hard working Mrs. Kirby, who was nursing her 
 ninth child, give herself a particle of concern, though 
 she was sorry that Mr. Waugh had been frightened. 
 
 "You never hadn t ought, Amy," she said, "to 
 carry off a little girl like that to play with you." 
 
 "Why, mammy, she was awful nice," explained 
 Amy. 
 
 Nothing had happened, but Donald left Lois a* 
 home for some days after, and she felt that she was in 
 disgrace. The little thing pined, for she had been as 
 her father s shadow. One morning he brought Amy 
 Kirby home with him in the buggy, and Lois intro 
 duced her to such a company of dolls and to so much 
 grandeur that Amy was bewildered. But when she 
 was taken home, with a great doll in her arms, that 
 could open and shut its eyes, and "do stunts,, 
 mammy, lots of stunts," she also had her hour of 
 perfect bliss. 
 
 Rich or poor, children require little to make for 
 them a beatific world. To them in their sweet free 
 dom from care belongs, almost to them only here be 
 low, the real kingdom of heaven. Did not our 
 blessed Lord tell us that this is their inheritance ? 
 
 In later years, the conditions in the Waugh mills 
 were made as agreeable as possible for the women 
 operatives, and parents were not able to evade the 
 legal enactments against child labor. The poor often 
 swear falsely as to the age of a child, moved thereto 
 by their own desire for the child s earnings, and by 
 the pleadings of the child s self. The little girl of 
 twelve or thirteen sees her sister bring home a weekly 
 wage, and envies her. The mother glibly swears, 
 and carries the false oath lightly on an untrained con-
 
 A FRIGHr 201 
 
 science. But the young girls need every instant of 
 their hurrying childhood for growth and health, and 
 in the Waugh mills their welfare in this and other 
 regards was carefully conserved. The labor of the 
 loom cannot be greatly softened. Long standing on 
 the feet, alert vigilance, and toil in the incessant din 
 of machinery are inevitable. But the father of little 
 Lois did what he could to brighten the lives of his 
 work people, and especially of the women and girls.
 
 XXIV 
 FRIENDS TOGETHER 
 
 THE burdens of many hearts and homes were 
 laid on the big heart of Rachel Waugh in 
 these troubled times. Everybody came to 
 her for counsel or for sympathy, or simply for the 
 relief of telling a grievance. She was the escape 
 valve which saved a good deal of excitement from 
 doing permanent damage. Her old friends hardly 
 knew her as she threw herself into the tide of affairs 
 at Old Field Hollow. 
 
 " Betsey Trotwood, you are a trump," her brother 
 said, patting her substantial shoulder. 
 
 "I can t wait for your honeyed flattery, Donald," 
 she answered. " I ve too many of your people to 
 look after. It s something though that you don t 
 think I m doing more harm than good. I m running 
 a club here in opposition to the saloon, and, have you 
 noticed, or haven t you, that at least one of those in 
 fernal places has shut up its doors ?" 
 
 "I have noticed it, Rachel, and I rejoice. This 
 work of yours here has not been done in vain." 
 
 " You see, Donald, it s not the drink only that leads 
 men to the saloon. It s the good-fellowship, the 
 sociability, the warmth, the light. The churches are 
 beginning to discover that men have bodies as well 
 as souls to be saved, and that is one of the principles 
 we are working on here, in our little way. Come in
 
 FRIENDS TOGETHER 203 
 
 now and then, brother, man to man, and be friends 
 with us, and you ll see what good it will do. 
 
 " Man to man ? " He laughed as if she had made 
 a slip. She laughed too, but she did not correct her 
 error. She had meant what she said. Now she had 
 to leave him for another who wanted her. 
 
 It was no less a person than the Englishwoman named 
 familiarly Gypsey Mary. Her face was dark, and she 
 waited for Miss Rachel, with an air of hesitancy, odd 
 in one so assertive. In the Hollow she was a leader, 
 a woman always in great demand. She was one of 
 those characters, who, born to the purple, would 
 have managed large affairs with accuracy and dis 
 patch, and knowing how to choose her helpers and 
 lieutenants, would have enjoyed planning and pro 
 jecting, and have reaped the advantage of others 
 labor. Born with the horn and not the silver spoon in 
 her mouth, used to poverty and hard work all her 
 days, she was still a woman of resource, and her one 
 soft spot, her love for her daughter, was never more 
 in evidence than when the mills shut down and she 
 had to find something to do at once. 
 
 "Why is it that you have nothing saved?" in 
 quired Miss Rachel, when Mary came to her with an 
 inquiry and a request. 
 
 "Look what I have done for Pet," she replied, a 
 comprehensive wave of her hand towards the slim 
 girl who was bending over a book in the library of 
 the hall, showing whom she meant. Gypsey Mary 
 seldom spoke of her one child by any other name 
 than this tender epithet of Pet, and gradually the 
 name had become common property. The young 
 girl was very pretty, very gentle-mannered and lov-
 
 204 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 able, a sweet clinging child, and everybody called her 
 Pet. 
 
 Pet was dressed in a simple, well-fitting gown of 
 dark blue worsted, with white at her neck and wrists. 
 The ribbon she wore frilled at her throat was an 
 exact reproduction of those Mrs. Waugh and Mrs. 
 Osbourn and the ladies who came to the Rest Hall, 
 wore just then. It even had a delicate edging of lace, 
 as had the ruffles in her sleeves. She was as dainty 
 and delicate in her attire as any girl could possibly 
 be. Her hands were white, her fingers tapering, her 
 air that of a young woman who was well cared for 
 and who had a life of ease. 
 
 "Pet does not work in the mills at any time," said 
 Miss Rachel. " What are you expecting to make of 
 her, Mary ? " 
 
 "Oh, she s young yet," said the mother. "She 
 may learn fine sewing if she likes and be a dress 
 maker, or maybe she will get a place in the schools. 
 Pet s very quick at learning." 
 
 " Mrs. Waugh might find her something to do in 
 her home, now that you are laid off and in such need 
 of money. Pet would soon acquire the accomplish 
 ments needed by a lady s maid, and she would then 
 be sure of good wages, good food, and a safe home. 
 I know that Mrs. Waugh or Mrs. Osbourn would 
 willingly take your daughter and give her excellent 
 training." 
 
 Miss Rachel was altogether unprepared for the 
 flush of anger that burned hotly on the cheek of the 
 indignant mother. She could not speak for vexation, 
 and her breath came chokingly. Hot tears rushed to 
 the black eyes.
 
 FRIENDS rOGErHER 205 
 
 " Would you expect me to let that child go to 
 service?" she exclaimed with scorn. "Why, she 
 might have done that if we d stayed in the old 
 country. Not here where every one is free, and all 
 are equals. I look higher by far than that for my 
 only daughter." 
 
 Miss Rachel said no more. She opened the little 
 drawer where she kept her money, took out a bill 
 and a handful of silver, and gave the whole to Mary. 
 
 " After all she s your child, and a very dear girl," 
 she said. " Only don t spoil her by foolish notions. 
 It does a girl like that no good whatever to see her 
 mother toiling like a slave, while she lives in idleness. 
 At the best of things, your pet will probably be the 
 wife of a poor man. Do not unfit her to make a poor 
 man s home happy." 
 
 Gypsey Mary tossed her head. She had her own 
 dreams. Among them was one of her daughter with 
 rings on her fingers and diamonds on her corsage, 
 robed in shimmering silks, living in splendor, marry 
 ing no poor man, but some rich man s son. Oftener 
 than the unobservant fancy, this picture of wealth 
 and prosperity in the future, fills the whole fore 
 ground of a mother s imagination, when she is her 
 self overborne by toil and poverty, and hemmed in 
 by narrowing limitations. Around the figure of her 
 pretty young daughter, she weaves the possible en 
 chantments of many a fairy-tale. If the daughter 
 grow selfish and vain and useless under the con 
 ditions of indulgence which so foolish a mother con 
 siders appropriate it is only what may be expected. 
 
 With the money Miss Rachel lent her, Mary stocked 
 a basket, filling it with pins, needles, thread, soap,
 
 2o6 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 and various small wares, and thenceforth, day in and 
 day out, she took the road, heedless of weather or 
 wind or wet. She appeared at back doors and area 
 doors, sold her goods to the maids in great houses, 
 or to the women who themselves kept house, in 
 more modest neighborhoods, and every Saturday 
 night she paid an installment on her debt to Miss 
 Rachel. Before many weeks the route she had es 
 tablished became a paying one, and she had built up a 
 decent trade, her daughter doing the work at home, 
 and having a supper ready for her when she came in 
 weary at nightfall. The little home did not lack an 
 atmosphere of comfort, and nothing went from it to 
 the pawn-shop. When Mary could not sell her soap 
 or her pins, she told fortunes, promising this con 
 fiding lass a husband, and the next a pot of gold, and 
 the next a long journey, and leaving them half con 
 vinced that she really could peer into that hidden 
 future which so mysteriously beckons those who are 
 not altogether satisfied with the present. 
 
 The women of the Hollow meanwhile stood gos- 
 sipping idly in their doorways, or sat disconsolately 
 beside their cold hearths. Cupboards were bare. 
 Children clamored for food. Tables that had been 
 spread with smoking breakfasts and suppers were no 
 longer set. One by one the most cherished posses 
 sions, the cabinet organs, the lace curtains, and the 
 sewing machines, the gilt clocks, and the babies 
 cradles, found their niche in the limbo behind the 
 three golden balls. When the wife pawned her 
 wedding ring and the man his watch, things were at 
 a low ebb. The destruction of the poor is their pov 
 erty. It is also their wastefulness. When a little
 
 FRIENDS TOGETHER 207 
 
 money did come into pinched hands, it was seldom 
 wisely expended, and Miss Rachel, moving about as 
 almoner, had many and many a bitter heartache, be 
 fore the estrangement was over, and her brother s 
 mills resumed their activity. The day did come, but 
 her hair grew whiter as she watched for it. 
 
 One night a knock roused her in the small hours. 
 She went to her window, raising it quickly. 
 
 " Who is there ?" 
 
 " For Christ s sake, Miss Rachel, come to our house. 
 Our little Jacky is dying." 
 
 " It s you, John Elkins ?" 
 
 " Yes, Miss Rachel." 
 
 " Wait for me. I ll be with you directly." 
 
 The lady was ready very soon. She slipped on a 
 thick jacket and tied a hood over her head. Snatch 
 ing several vials from her medicine chest, and taking 
 a loaf from the pantry, she went with John Elkins. 
 Jacky might or might not be dying, but the other 
 children would be hungry when they woke in the 
 morning. 
 
 She tramped along through the dark street, past 
 the mill-stream lying black and sluggish in the mid 
 night gloom, that was broken at intervals by the 
 gleam of a lamp flaring wildly in the wind that was 
 rising and sobbing fitfully. John Elkins tramped at 
 her side. She knew him well, a man of few words, 
 and very faithful. Not one who had wanted to join 
 the disaffected, but one of the many who had been 
 compelled to do so by the rules of the organization, 
 and the dictum of the walking delegate. 
 
 Once he sighed, a sigh that was like a groan of de 
 spair. It was when they came in sight of his little
 
 208 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 dwelling where a candle burned in an upper window, 
 and the shadow of a woman was reflected on the 
 white curtain. 
 
 "You ve had the doctor?" said Miss Rachel. 
 
 "She s there now!" answered the man gruffly. 
 Miss Rachel noted the pronoun with wonder and 
 gratitude. 
 
 "Old Dr. Redding couldn t come. He s ill him 
 self. His son, the young doctor s off somewhere on 
 a jaunt. Old man Redding sent this lady. But she 
 knows her business. She sent me after you. She 
 doesn t think Jacky can pull through." 
 
 "God can save him, John." Miss Rachel s tone 
 was confident. 
 
 They entered the house and mounted the stairs. 
 As Miss Rachel crossed the sill, she observed that the 
 windows on the opposite side of the bedroom were 
 wide open, though the night was cold. Women 
 doctors are familiar figures now, but they were 
 novelties then, and still had to conquer the prejudice 
 and reluctance of many people, rich and poor, edu 
 cated and illiterate alike. 
 
 Jacky Elkins was indeed making a brave fight for 
 his life. He was stretched stark naked on a bare pine 
 table, and the doctor was raising his little thin arms 
 and generally acting as she might have done with a 
 drowning person in the effort to restore his waning 
 breath and strength. An odor of strong coffee filled 
 the house. The doctor forced a teaspoonf ul between 
 the white lips of the child. 
 
 As Miss Rachel s eyes met hers, the glance told 
 of failure, and Dr. Sarah Benson lowered her head 
 and clasped her hands as if in dumb resignation.
 
 FRIENDS TOGETHER 209 
 
 The father, statuesque in grief, folded his arms, and 
 stood at the foot of the table. The mother, who had 
 been rocking to and fro and weeping, suddenly 
 sprang to her feet, in desperation, with the look of a 
 caged animal that would break its bars if it could. 
 
 "You shan t torture my boy any longer, if you 
 can t save him! Give him to me. Let me dress 
 him. You ve killed him, keeping him naked in this 
 cold room! " 
 
 "Sophy," said Miss Rachel, " sit down, my dear. 
 Let me hold Jacky! " 
 
 She caught up a gray blanket shawl that was lying 
 on the foot of the bed, an old shawl that Sophy 
 Elkins had used for a wrap by day and a coverlet by 
 night ever since her marriage ten years ago. 
 
 Turning to the doctor, Miss Rachel addressed her. 
 
 " Is there nothing more to be tried ? " 
 
 "Nothing more. It s baby pneumonia. The child s 
 past human saving. I was called in too late." 
 
 "The child s not past God s saving," said Miss 
 Rachel, wrapping him in the old gray shawl, and 
 holding him in her stout old arms. 
 
 She stepped down-stairs and out the front door. 
 The father, the mother, and the doctor followed her. 
 Out of doors into the fresh, pure, strong wind, blow 
 ing cold and clear from the north. Up and down, up 
 and down, up and down, tirelessly, like a sentry on 
 duty, paced the sturdy woman, holding the child 
 close to her breast, wrapped in the old gray shawl. 
 After awhile she paused, and beckoned to the group 
 on the threshold. 
 
 " Is there any change ? " 
 
 The doctor peeped at the small wizened face,
 
 210 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 peeped, surprise and gladness breaking like a sun 
 rise in her own countenance. 
 
 "Miss Rachel, you have wrought a miracle!" she 
 said. 
 
 "The child is better?" 
 
 "The child will live!" 
 
 "Thank God! " ejaculated Miss Rachel, giving the 
 boy to his father, who had followed her in a tireless 
 tramp up and down. 
 
 " It is God s miracle," said Miss Rachel, as she sank 
 down exhausted in Sophy Elkins Boston rocker, while 
 Sophy brought her a slice of the bread she had laid 
 down when she came in, and poured her a cup of 
 coffee. 
 
 Jacky needed careful nursing and it was a week or 
 more before he was able to hold up his head, but he 
 was saved. And before night, the fame of Miss 
 Rachel s deed was told in every home in the Hollow, 
 and every man there was her sworn knight and sol 
 dier, and every woman loved her as a sister. 
 
 Miss Rachel was no sentimental philanthropist. 
 She was a very practical woman, who abhorred dirt 
 and shiftlessness, and did her duty in that state where 
 God had been pleased to call her. It was character 
 istic of her to forget what she did in the line of self- 
 denial and to make light of every sacrifice. But for 
 once she was not permitted to escape the reward of 
 much outspoken gratitude, and her brother, seldom 
 given to much expansiveness, when next he met her, 
 fairly took her in his arms. 
 
 "You are splendid," he said. "You are like our 
 mother. Good women like you, Rachel, with sense 
 and knowledge, are worth more than armies. When
 
 FRIENDS TOGETHER 211 
 
 peace comes after these disturbances, it will be to 
 your credit. There ! " And he kissed her, as a brother 
 might, with a hug such as he had not given her in 
 twenty years. 
 
 "Oh, what a bear you are, Donald!" she remon 
 strated, shaking her ruffled plumage. " You know I 
 don t like kisses! " 
 
 To run away from the gratitude of the women, she 
 took a little holiday from the Rest Hall, and went to 
 stay a few days with the Osbourns. 
 
 "Aren t we rather magnificent?" was her first re 
 mark, as after a quiet dinner she sat with her host 
 and hostess in their cozy drawing-room. Both 
 women had been to the nursery for a good-night look 
 at Lee, who, rosy and dimpled, was a great contrast 
 to the pallid children of the Hollow, wan-cheeked 
 and thin, as no children who belonged even remotely 
 to the Waugh interests had ever been before. Harry 
 with a book and a pipe looked up, as Miss Rachel 
 spoke. But Eleanor answered, 
 
 "The house has been done over. It was in a fearful 
 state. And I ve bought a new rug or two. That s all." 
 
 "Well, the result justifies your taste. The rug is 
 a dream. It couldn t be more beautiful, with those 
 dim colors melting into one another so wonderfully, 
 while your foot sinks into it as into velvet. I live on 
 bare floors, you know, so you must not be amazed 
 at my admiration." 
 
 Eleanor, who seldom looked dissatisfied, hesitated 
 before she said, 
 
 "You are the first one to praise my new posses 
 sions. Mother is silent, Kathleen grave, and Harry 
 non-committal. The fact is I have lately let myself
 
 212 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 go, and I m not sure that it s been quite right. But 
 I ve been saving and skimping so long that I m tired, 
 and I was determined not to let the house be shabby, 
 when I had a nest-egg in the bank on which I could 
 draw." 
 
 Miss Rachel looked inquiringly. 
 
 "You never heard about that nest-egg, of course. 
 It was a little legacy from a far-away cousin who, 
 like myself, was an Eleanor Lee. It came just when 
 I was most tired of my economies, and I made up 
 my mind I d spend a little of it. The worst of such 
 spending is, one never knows when to stop. You 
 get one new thing and then you want another and 
 another. Each pretty thing you buy costs you some 
 peace of mind, because it sends you out to look for 
 another pretty thing to match it. And what with my 
 having the house refitted and decorated and every 
 thing else, I ve grown tired and cross, and so has 
 Harry, poor fellow! " 
 
 "Speak for yourself, dear!" said Harry, smiling 
 from his book. But Miss Rachel noticed that he did 
 look unwontedly tired, and she knew perfectly well 
 that a weary man may sometimes be a little cross. 
 
 When the hour came to retire Eleanor accompanied 
 Miss Rachel to the guest-room. 
 
 I know that the guest-chamber, once a feature in 
 every refined home, is passing so rapidly that our 
 children will scarcely keep the memory of it. But 
 when Eleanor Osbourn and Mattie Waugh and other 
 women who now have silver hair were in their bloom, 
 and wore lightly the honors of young matronhood, 
 the guest-room was as much an object of solicitude 
 as the library or the dining-room. Here the lady of
 
 FRIENDS TOGETHER 213 
 
 the house, beautiful old title this, full of sweetest 
 charm and most gracious dignity, put her finest 
 napery, her handsomest furniture and her most lux 
 urious bed. Everything was of the best. Nothing 
 that could add to a visitor s pleasure or convenience 
 was ever omitted. There was stationery, there were 
 stamps, there were books, and candlesticks, with 
 soft dressing-gowns and bedroom slippers, in case of 
 their being needed in the night. 
 
 Miss Rachel looked appreciatively over Eleanor s 
 lovely room. Not a detail escaped her eye, and the 
 exquisite nicety of the whole was in itself a very 
 great pleasure. 
 
 "My darling Eleanor," she said, as she sank into 
 an easy chair, "this is the most delightful room in 
 your delightful house, and I just love to be here in it 
 with you. But pardon me, child, I ve known you 
 since you were born, and your husband since he mar 
 ried you, and 1 can see that there s something awry. 
 Don t you want advice ? I m mother-confessor in 
 my safe estate of trusted old maid, to such a number 
 of my neighbors, that I begin to fancy I can help any 
 body out of any tangle. Is there any tangle, dear 
 est?" 
 
 Eleanor seated herself on a hassock at Miss Rachel s 
 feet and rested her arm on Miss Rachel s lap. She 
 was about to speak, when Harry called her from the 
 foot of the stairs. 
 
 " Eleanor dear, don t keep Miss Rachel talking un 
 til midnight. Come down. I want you." 
 
 So Eleanor said good-night and went down, and 
 she did not then receive the good advice Miss Rachel 
 might have given.
 
 XXY 
 PROBLEMS 
 
 BREAKFAST over the next morning Eleanor 
 sent for a carnage and took Miss Rachel for a 
 drive. Their final objective point was Mrs. 
 Lee s, where they were to lunch, but before going 
 there, Eleanor purposed making a morning of it. She 
 had an errand at her dressmaker s. She took Miss 
 Rachel in to see Mattie, and they stopped by the way 
 for a visit to little Lois in her kindergarten, and so in 
 one or another pleasant loitering Miss Rachel rested 
 all the morning. 
 
 As they turned a corner, they caught a glimpse of 
 Gypsey Mary plodding on with her basket, and Miss 
 Rachel gave her a neighborly nod. 
 
 "We are both rather far afield," she said. "Do, 
 Eleanor, buy some pins from Mary. Stop the car 
 nage, and let us bid her good-morning. And when 
 we ve finished that, let s just drive to the Hollow and 
 inquire for Jacky Elkins." 
 
 Here Eleanor demurred. 
 
 "I am giving you a vacation. Even saints need 
 one now and then. It isn t an original remark, so 
 you have no occasion to blush, Miss Rachel, though 
 you are a saint in good earnest. Why must we go 
 to look after Jacky, please ?" 
 
 You are a mother, Eleanor. If Lee had been 
 as near death as Jacky has been, you would want 
 
 314
 
 PROBLEMS 215 
 
 those who love you to call and ask for him. Sophy 
 Elkins leans on me, and I cannot fail her. I must 
 go all the more that the Elkins are so desperately 
 poor." 
 
 " Their own fault, is:i t it ? " said Eleanor, coldly. 
 
 " Uur troubles are usually due to our own fault," 
 was Miss Rachel s comment. "But that speech is 
 not like you, dear. Why are you so frugal in sym 
 pathy ? " 
 
 "Oh, I don t know. I m bankrupt in sympathy 
 lately. I ve been getting colder and harder and more 
 horrid for the last year." 
 
 She gave -the coachman the order to drive to the 
 Hollow. 
 
 " We won t drive to the very door of Mrs. Elkins 
 home," said Miss Rachel. "We ll stop at the corner, 
 out of sight of her house, and then you and I will 
 walk there. I want you to see the little woman with 
 her brood. She s a brave little woman." 
 
 John was at home, but he drew back into the 
 shadow, after a warm greeting to Miss Rachel. 
 Sophy met her with outstretched hand. 
 
 " The little fellow is all right again," she said. 
 
 Eleanor was touched at his pallor, and his hollow 
 eyes. She gathered him up in her arms, and brooded 
 over him as she did over her own Lee, and when she 
 went away, she slipped a gold piece into his 
 mother s hand. Sophy shook her head. 
 
 " You must take it, Mrs. Elkins. It is not for you. 
 It s for the baby. Buy something he wants." 
 
 "You haven t been near me or my people for an 
 age," Miss Rachel made the statement positively as 
 they drove away towards the boulevard that led
 
 216 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 down to the sea. The salt breeze swept towards 
 them like a lover, its touch a caress. 
 
 "I have been nowhere, dear Miss Rachel, except 
 with mother, whose blindness is increasing so 
 rapidly that I spend a good deal of time with her. 
 Kathleen and I seldom leave her alone. Max 
 Pomfret, of all people, reads to her every evening." 
 
 " Ah, he misses his home, and his mother, though 
 he neglected them so long. There s good in that 
 man, Eleanor." 
 
 " He s a queer mixture! " 
 
 " What I want to know is what ails you, and what 
 ails Harry ? " 
 
 "I can t tell you what ails Harry. He s over 
 worked, I m afraid. He has spells of being tired and 
 irritable. Then, when I m on the point of sending 
 for the doctor, he s all right, and there s nothing you 
 can put a finger on. What ails me, Miss Rachel, is 
 that 1 never have money enough." 
 
 " With your large income ? You must manage 
 badly." 
 
 "I m afraid I don t manage very well. I know I 
 spend more than I ought, but I have no idea why." 
 
 " Harry should give you an allowance." 
 
 "Harry says that he does not believe in allowances 
 for a wife whose husband does not regard her as a 
 child. Whatever belongs to him belongs to me and 
 he is not willing that there should be anything com 
 mercial in our relations. The income Harry makes 
 I suppose is fluctuating." 
 
 "I understood the contrary," said Miss Rachel 
 before she thought. She had the impression that 
 Donald paid him a large salary. But she might of
 
 PROBLEMS 21 7 
 
 course be mistaken. Anyhow it was not her busi 
 ness. 
 
 "Whatever he has or has not it is Harry s nature 
 to be very lavish and very sanguine. He sees things 
 in rose color. He anticipates the very best always, 
 and his geese are swans. Then he has the queerest 
 streaks of parsimony, reactions when he is as stingy 
 as he has been lavish. I make bills and Harry is 
 charmed till the bills come in. But oh! what will 
 you think of me, as a wife, chattering on in this 
 fashion ? I do not think a wife has any right to talk 
 so of her husband and 1 never used to do it. I fear I 
 am degenerating, Miss Rachel." 
 
 " I invited you and tempted you, Eleanor, so I am 
 to blame. You and Harry are making a mistake that 
 is very common among us. More married people 
 show singular stupidity on this one subject than on 
 any other in the wide world. Domestic finance 
 should be reduced to a system and domestic peace 
 would be insured. It is again an old maid s wisdom, 
 Eleanor, that you are listening to." 
 
 "My dear old friend, I am sure you are right. 
 What would be your panacea ?" 
 
 " Have a plain straightforward talk with your 
 husband, dear, and a clear understanding about what 
 you may and what you may not spend. Insist on an 
 arrangement that is perfectly businesslike and keep 
 within your margin. Have an allowance for the 
 household, and one for your personal wants. You 
 will find your difficulties magically dissipated." 
 
 "Do you administer counsel of this sort to your 
 people in the Hollow, Miss Rachel?" 
 
 "When things are normal there, 1 have no need.
 
 218 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 The wife is the purse-holder, and as chancellor of the 
 exchequer, she manages admirably. The husband 
 brings her his earnings, and so do the children. Ex 
 cept what he spends for drink, when he is intemper 
 ate, she receives all. That of course is another 
 story." 
 
 In an instant Miss Rachel regretted her allusion. 
 She sheered away from it. 
 
 " Why do you not come to help us any more, 
 dear ? We d like your voice and your playing some 
 times." 
 
 "I ve slipped awny from so many things, Miss 
 Rachel. I m afraid I ve grown selfish." 
 
 " Oh, I don t think so; I think you ve had a good 
 many absorbing interests. Your boy takes up a good 
 deal of time, and your mother, and I saw a pile of 
 severe looking books in your room and concluded 
 you were studying something profound. Then you 
 have social duties. You know many people now 
 and Islington is not the simple little town it used 
 to be." 
 
 They dropped serious subjects and talked of in 
 different matters until they reached Mrs. Lee s. There 
 Miss Rachel saw that the daughters were indeed 
 much occupied with their mother. The surgeon s 
 knife could not as yet restore the lost vision. There 
 must be a period of patient waiting. She was at once 
 impressed with the serenity on Mrs. Lee s face. 
 Hitherto a woman of the greatest activity with 
 multiform affairs pressing on her heart and hands, 
 she was now contented to sit still and delegate much 
 to others. She did not fret or disturb herself or her 
 family by vain repinings and her bright smile as she
 
 PROBLEMS 219 
 
 took Miss Rachel s hand was a revelation of what 
 may be wrought in character by God s moulding 
 hand for those who simply trust and take the day 
 as it comes. 
 
 "No, dear, I don t find the time hanging heavily," 
 she said. " I have so much to be thankful for, and 
 so much to enjoy." 
 
 " Whatsoever falleth thee," said Archbishop Leigh- 
 ton, " receive it not from the hand of any creature, 
 but from Him alone, and render back all to Him, 
 seeking in all things His pleasure and honor, the 
 purifying and subduing of thyself. What can harm 
 thee, when all must first touch God, in whom thou 
 hast enclosed thyself ? " 
 
 " I do not ask my cross to understand, 
 
 My way to see ; 
 
 Better in darkness just to feel Thy hand, 
 And follow Thee." 
 
 This had become the spirit in which Mrs. Lee or 
 dered her days. In consequence of this a great 
 peacefulness surrounded her like an atmosphere, and 
 her home was as cheery as it ever had been, the sun 
 light of the inner life prevailing over the shadow that 
 lay upon the mistress, so far as actual sight was con 
 cerned. Mrs. Lee was contented, and contentment is 
 in itself a strength. She knew too that in God s 
 providence relief would probably come, and while 
 she waited for it she was singularly happy. 
 
 The sensitiveness that seems a distinguishing trait 
 of the blind, made her realize that Eleanor s sunshine 
 was under a cloud. She accurately measured cause 
 and effect, and was not troubled about it. Little
 
 220 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 troubled her now, and her mood was so restful that 
 tired Miss Rachel felt it, and was soothed as if she 
 heard sweet music. 
 
 "I never saw anything that changes so little as 
 this home does," she said, looking about her. " Your 
 furniture does not wear out, your house seems never 
 in want of repair, you do not change, as other people 
 do, Mrs. Lee." 
 
 " Oh, life s wear and tear is visible on us all, and 
 our wear and tear shows itself on our homes, of 
 course, but where everything is already mellowed by 
 time, and long usage has accustomed us to a certain 
 shabbiness, it gets to have an effect of elegance. I 
 could not be interested in much change in this house. 
 If the judge could come back, it would look the same 
 to him, as when he went to the other land. He 
 would see changes in the children and me. I often 
 speculate on that subject, Rachel. Shall we know 
 each other there ? is a question that awakens con 
 jecture. Shall we know each other the instant we 
 set foot on that shore of so many hopes, so many 
 dreams ? I have grown old since my husband saw 
 me last." 
 
 "Old in the outward only, and that will drop 
 away, and you will look as you did when you were 
 young and strong. I have never had any speculation 
 about that, " replied Miss Rachel. You recall that bit 
 of poetry Kathleen learned to recite in school, The 
 Masquerade ? When the child was tottering along 
 with an old poke bonnet and a long old cloak, and 
 stumbled, don t you remember ? " 
 
 " Not I," said Mrs. Lee. " Here is Kathleen. Let 
 us test her memory."
 
 PROBLEMS 221 
 
 Kathleen was not reluctant. Her mind was a store 
 house of odds and ends that she had collected in her 
 childish days, when she had been expected to com 
 mit things to memory. It is not a bad plan to do 
 this when one is young. The treasure house usually 
 proves a safe place of deposit. 
 
 " A little old woman before me 
 
 Went slowly down the street, 
 Walking as if aweary 
 
 Were her feeble, faltering feet. 
 
 From under her old poke bonnet 
 
 I caught a gleam of snow, 
 And her waving cap-string fluttered 
 Like a pennon to and fro. 
 
 " In the folds of her rusty mantle 
 Sudden her footsteps caught, 
 And I sprang to keep her from falling, 
 With a touch as quick as thought. 
 
 " Mantle and cap together 
 
 Fell off at my very feet, 
 And there stood my winsome daughter. 
 Beautiful, blushing, sweet. 
 
 " Shall it be like this, I wonder, 
 
 When we come at least to stand 
 On the golden, gleaming pavement, 
 Of the blessed, blessed land. 
 
 " Losing the rusty garments 
 
 We wore in the years of Time, 
 Shall our better selves spring forward, 
 Serene in a youth sublime, 
 
 " Instead of the shapes that hid us, 
 
 And made us old and gray, 
 Shall we get the child-heart back again 
 With a lightness that will stay ? "
 
 222 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 Kathleen curtseyed low. 
 
 " I have said my piece." 
 
 " Thank you, dearest. You have said it very well. 
 You may go and play." 
 
 Then Mrs. Lee and Miss Rachel resumed their talk 
 about Eleanor. 
 
 " With my child s temperament," said the mother, 
 " it is inevitable that she shall feel unstrung at times. 
 Eleanor is seldom free from strain, though it is often 
 sub-conscious. She has not entirely thrown off ap 
 prehension, that sometime, something else will hap 
 pen to her or to her dear ones, and just now she is 
 leaning too heavily on her will power, and too slightly 
 on God s grace. God teaches us by ways that He 
 finds best, that we must lean on Him." 
 
 " You have confidence in Him, let what may 
 happen." 
 
 " Yes, Rachel dear, absolute confidence." 
 
 " You don t fear, or you don t think Eleanor fears, 
 a relapse for Harry, do you ? " asked Miss Rachel, 
 venturing on delicate ground, for this was a subject 
 avoided by the Lees and their friends. 
 
 " 1 fear nothing, Rachel. I sometimes fancy Elea 
 nor has fears, but not of the sort of thing she has 
 once undergone. Luncheon is ready. Don t let us 
 dwell on this. Some things are best left unspoken." 
 
 " I beg your pardon for having spoken." 
 
 "No, you have no need. I am glad you did. 
 Eleanor is happy to-day. I can tell by her voice. Is 
 she looking well, Rachel ?" 
 
 " She is looking lovely," said Miss Rachel. " Who 
 ever saw Eleanor otherwise ? " 
 
 As they chatted over their salad and chocolate, the
 
 PROBLEMS 223 
 
 conversation turned on education, and it presently 
 was manifest that Eleanor was already going to col 
 lege with Lee. As is the custom with mothers, par 
 ticularly when they have but one child, she was fore 
 casting the years, and carrying much luggage that 
 was not yet to be seen, which at the moment had no 
 place on the journey. 
 
 " Lee isn t yet in the kindergarten," Kathleen 
 laughed, as she declared that she would wait for her 
 son, when he arrived, to grow up before she dis 
 tressed herself about him, his electives, his sports, 
 and the profession he was to adorn. 
 
 Kindergartens were comparatively new, and Harry 
 regarded them as the merest play-schools, and scoffed 
 at the idea of their doing a child any good. But 
 Eleanor was convinced of their beneficial effect on a 
 child s development, and so Lee was to begin his 
 school education in one of them, the very next week. 
 
 " I am so very much at sea," she told her mother. 
 " Lee is such a little tempest; he flies into such rages 
 at times, and then again, he is so destructive, break 
 ing up his toys, and flinging everything around. 
 And I don t know about teaching him much about 
 God and the soul. He is so little to be confronted 
 with the great mysteries." 
 
 "Eleanor dear," said Mrs. Lee, "can you remem 
 ber a time when you did not pray to God, or when 
 you did not know that a certain book lying on my 
 table, was God s Book ? " 
 
 "No, dear mother." 
 
 " I was no theorist, but as soon as the baby hands 
 could be folded together in mine, I said a little prayer 
 over them for my baby, and as soon as each child
 
 224 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 could speak in broken syllables, I taught my little 
 ones a prayer to say themselves. 1 believe that chil 
 dren should grow up into God s kingdom, as the 
 plants grow in the garden, and that nothing should 
 be forced. Pray for Lee, and teach him to pray. As 
 for his little bursts of temper many of them are simply 
 due to inexperience and lack of vocabulary. Pass 
 them over without notice, and try diversion. Chil 
 dren sometimes like to make a sensation. They enjoy 
 the dramatic effect of what they do, and there is 
 more danger in accentuating their mistakes by pun 
 ishment, than in letting them alone." 
 
 "Your mother is right, dear," said Miss Rachel. 
 "Now I ve an idea. Can we not have a kindergarten 
 on a small scale, perhaps at the Rest, so that the little 
 tots of the Hollow may have the privileges granted 
 to the little tots of the Hill ? " 
 
 "It would cost money." 
 
 "Why of course it would. But a few bright 
 women joining together could easily raise the money. 
 Think of the good it would do. We have a day 
 nursery now. A kindergarten should follow as the 
 next step." 
 
 "If you want any more care, Miss Rachel dear, 
 you should not be balked in your inclination. I will 
 set about starting a free kindergarten at once. I ve 
 been wanting something outside of my home, and 
 for other people to do with both hands, and this may 
 be the very thing. Kathleen, get pencils and paper, 
 and let us make a list of all our friends and acquaint 
 ances." 
 
 Eleanor s enthusiasm kindled. She forgot that she 
 was run down and a little tired, and not quite up to
 
 PROBLEMS 225 
 
 the usual mark, and thus the first free kindergarten in 
 the Old Field Hollow had its birth. 
 
 Miss Rachel returned to her people and her work, 
 greatly freshened after her brief outing. The wel 
 come that she received was as spontaneous and as 
 cordial as if she had been away for six months. The 
 women who surrounded Miss Rachel Waugh felt 
 bereaved if she were away from her usual place a 
 single day.
 
 xxyi 
 
 AN OBSTACLE OR 
 
 THE obstacle nobody foresaw was naturally 
 the first stumbling-block in the path of the 
 free kindergarten. Women who were read 
 ily persuaded to entrust their babies to the kind care 
 of the day nursery, while they went to their work of 
 scrubbing or washing, saw no sense as they openly 
 said in letting the children next older than the babies, 
 attend so foolish a school as one where the teacher 
 played with them and they used pins and chalk and 
 clay, and did not learn to read. They shared the 
 objections of Harry Osbourn, and were loud in stat 
 ing them. 
 
 "But," remonstrated Mattie Waugh, who was 
 urging the new school for the tiny girls and boys, on 
 a group of protesting mothers, " I send my child to a 
 kindergarten. Lois goes. Why shouldn t your Mir 
 iam, and your Bessie, and your Maria, go to such a 
 school as my Lois attends?" 
 
 The argument made its impression. One matron 
 however opposed it. 
 
 " Lois Waugh will be rich. Our kids will never be 
 anything but poor. This kindergarten nonsense will 
 fill their heads with ideas above their pockets." 
 
 This met with no favor. Mrs. Waugh was much 
 liked in the Hollow, and her opinions carried weight. 
 If she thought that sticking pins into cardboard, and 
 
 226
 
 AN OBSTACLE OR T7FO 227 
 
 making clay images, and playing fanciful games, 
 would do good to the boys and girls, before they went 
 to the primary school, there must be something in it. 
 
 "The brats will be out o the street and out o mis 
 chief," one practical woman said, summing up the 
 matter. 
 
 Next came another aspect of the obstacle. Kinder- 
 gartners were then few, as compared with the present 
 multiplicity of bright young women who have mas 
 tered the system, and whose study of childish pecul 
 iarities has been deep and loving. One was found, 
 but though in other things prepared to do good work, 
 she was not in touch with this environment. 
 
 "I d rather wait and teach nice children, from a 
 pleasant neighborhood, at a less salary," she said. 
 " I don t care to come here." 
 
 "Nor would we care to have you," answered 
 Eleanor quietly. Eleanor was president of the Board 
 of Managers. "It is imperative that we have to 
 help these little children people who love them." 
 
 When the young lady, a little crestfallen but quite 
 resolute in her determination to keep the poor at a 
 good distance from her dainty self, had gone away, 
 and the door was shut behind her, Eleanor astonished 
 her associates. 
 
 " I ll teach the children myself for the next month 
 or two," she announced. "It s absurd, it s disgust 
 ing, that a young woman should take the stand that 
 girl did. When our Lord said, Suffer the little chil 
 dren to come unto Me, and forbid them not, do you 
 suppose He meant only the rich children, the children 
 of the kings and nobles; I don t. I m sure He meant 
 the children of the pauper and the peasant."
 
 228 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 This was the old Eleanor, vehement, impulsive, not 
 counting the cost. As the meeting dissolved, a room 
 having been assigned for the new kindergarten in the 
 capacious hall, and a committee designated with au 
 thority to purchase small chairs and tables and simple 
 apparatus and supplies, Kathleen walked home with 
 Eleanor and Mattie. The latter had sent her carriage 
 home an hour before, desiring a long walk with her 
 friends. 
 
 " Harry Osbourn will veto that proceeding of 
 yours," exclaimed Mattie, the instant the hall s door 
 was shut. 
 
 "Yes indeed he will," echoed Kathleen. "Why, 
 Eleanor, you know Harry s increasing dislike to you 
 piling up engagements outside the home. He s most 
 unreasonable I think, but he s Harry, and you ought 
 to have consulted him before you pledged your 
 self." 
 
 Sisterly freedom this, but Eleanor only smiled. 
 
 " Harry s not a Turk. I give up to him now more 
 than is for his good or mine. I m going to turn over 
 a new leaf." 
 
 Mattie Waugh looked very doubtful. 
 
 " Turning over new leaves when it s a case of over 
 coming one s husband s prejudices is a pretty hard 
 task. I turn over no new leaves with Donald. If 
 girls were wise they d begin with more independence 
 than they do in the first years, and then they d never 
 have new leaves to turn." 
 
 "I shall do just as I please," said Eleanor firmly. 
 Yet her heart quaked a little. At the moment of 
 making her determined offer, she had overlooked the 
 wifely necessity of consulting and conferring with
 
 AN OBSTACLE OR TWO 229 
 
 Harry. She knew, as well as did her sister and her 
 friend, that Harry could be obstinate, and that on 
 this occasion he probably would be. There might be 
 a contest. If there were, Eleanor was not at all sure 
 that she would yield. Kathleen saw the trouble in 
 her eyes. 
 
 " Use tact, Eleanor," she said. " Don t bring this 
 matter up until Harry is in a very good humor, and 
 in the mood to grant your requests." 
 
 "One would suppose you thought Harry a bear," 
 said Eleanor indignantly. " What a fuss over noth 
 ing at all! I m not proposing to be a kindergartner 
 the rest of my life. I m only stepping into the breach 
 for a few weeks. One thing I ll never stoop to, sis 
 ter, is to use tact when I m talking with my own 
 husband. This is a queer conversation of ours. It 
 lacks dignity." 
 
 It was dropped. At dinner that night Mattie 
 Waugh mentioned Eleanor s intention to Donald, 
 who laughed indulgently. 
 
 " What a child that woman is to be sure. What s 
 to become of her home duties when she s gallivant 
 ing off in that manner? Her husband will never 
 allow it. You and she must wait about that kinder 
 garten till you find a competent teacher. Money will 
 bring her. Mind, Mattie, I ll not have you going off 
 at any such tangent." 
 
 "Don t be alarmed, Donald. But keep your pro 
 hibitions until you have cause for them. I have ex 
 pressed no such intention." 
 
 Mattie spoke hastily, and her color rose. She was 
 ruffled. 
 
 Donald laughed again. An exhibition of temper
 
 230 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 on the part of his quiet, complacent little wife al 
 ways amused him. 
 
 "You look very pretty with that flush on your 
 cheek, dear." 
 
 "Don t think to placate me by a compliment, 
 Donald," but Mattie was appeased nevertheless. 
 
 " 1 have so much confidence in your flawless wis 
 dom, Mattie, that my forbidding you anything is 
 only the form of speech intended as a shield around 
 my masculine prerogative of keeping the upper 
 hand. Seriously, I don t think Eleanor has health 
 and strength and nerves for steady work in a school 
 room every morning of her life. Do you ? " 
 
 "Indeed I do not." 
 
 As they left the dining-room, Donald held open the 
 door for Mattie to pass out first. In the drawing- 
 room he bent over her and kissed her smooth fore 
 head. She reached up and took his hand in hers. A 
 large powerful hand still, she was struck by its thin 
 ness and alarmed. Donald, in the light of the lamps, 
 looked gray and gaunt. 
 
 "I want you to lie down on the divan," said 
 Mattie, "and deny yourself to every caller this even 
 ing. I ll cover you up, and then I ll read to you, or 
 play for you, or entertain you somehow. We ll 
 have one of our old Darby and Joan evenings. Shall 
 we ? " 
 
 They started with this intention, but Mattie neg 
 lected to give orders to her servants, and in the 
 midst of a scientific paper she was reading from a 
 magazine the door opened, and the man announced, 
 
 "Mr. and Mrs. Osbourn." 
 
 In they came. Mattie took care that no one else
 
 AN OBSTACLE OR TWO 231 
 
 should be received. The Osbourns were almost like 
 themselves. 
 
 Eleanor threw off the long cloak and hood she had 
 worn, and began her errand without delay. Donald 
 had risen on her entrance. Greetings were hardly 
 over when she exclaimed, 
 
 " Mattie, you and Kathleen were right and I was 
 wrong. Harry disapproves of my attempting any 
 more work, not that I couldn t do it, but he says 
 that I must keep myself fresh for Lee s sake, and I 
 am convinced, against my will, that he is right. So, 
 I ll have to withdraw my offer." 
 
 "1 tell Eleanor," said Harry, " that she can super 
 vise as much as she wishes to, but that she can t go 
 down there for the drudgery. It wouldn t be fair. 
 She s too busy for that kind of thing. And she s been 
 lovely about looking at it through my eyes. Of 
 course, if it were a matter of heartbreak to her, or of 
 life and death to the Hollowites, I would not oppose 
 her for a minute. But I ve persuaded her to agree 
 with me! " 
 
 "Hoot mon!" cried Donald. "You have a per 
 suasive tongue in your head, as many a jury has found 
 out. Come to my den, and we ll leave the ladies to 
 the discussion of this mighty matter. Don t worry, 
 girls," he called out in his biggest voice, "I ll send 
 across the water and get you the finest teacher money 
 can allure from the other side." 
 
 Left alone, Mattie and Eleanor looked at one an 
 other with interrogation in the eyes of Mattie, and 
 revelation in the eyes of Eleanor. 
 
 " You said you would decide just as you pleased ? " 
 This from Mrs 1 . Waugh.
 
 232 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 "I have. I cannot put myself in the position of 
 treating Harry s views with contempt. Pray, did 
 you fancy I should ? " 
 
 "Not for an instant," answered Mattie. 
 
 The kindergarten in the Hollow was only a little 
 delayed by these passages. Before many weeks it 
 was in successful operation, with a flaxen-haired 
 German girl presiding over its rhythmic games and 
 songs. It wrought a revolution in the little men and 
 women who came joyously to its happy precincts, 
 each of them learning at the close of the morning 
 how to sit at a table and eat an appetizing meal, with 
 the good manners to which more fortunate children 
 are born. 
 
 Eleanor, as it happened, had very little to do with 
 it, beyond attending managers meetings, for Lee just 
 then had a succession of those diseases from which 
 little children suffer, mumps, measles, whooping- 
 cough, and he needed his mother s continual care. 
 That he came through these reefs and shoals of child 
 hood not much the worse, was owing to her sedulous 
 vigilance. When Lee was ill, his mother was his 
 chief nurse, and it was she, not he, who was white 
 and wan, when the doctor ceased his daily visits.
 
 XXV11 
 BURDEN OF HEALTH 
 
 LITTLE Lois Waugh was more and more her 
 father s helper, because more and more as the 
 years brought their harvesting, he felt the 
 pressure of the burden of wealth. Those who have 
 attained the golden mean in this world, who have 
 neither poverty nor riches, are to be congratulated. 
 Abundance, when it touches the superlative, brings 
 with it such added responsibility, that its possessor 
 often spends sleepless nights and knows wearisome 
 days. 
 
 One of Donald Waugh s jealously cherished habits 
 was that of personally answering every letter that 
 came to his home. As his health lost something of its 
 earlier elasticity, and gave subtle signs of breaking, 
 his wife begged him to lay aside this custom and em 
 ploy a secretary, or else let a part of the correspond 
 ence lie on the table, for attention when there came 
 leisure. Mattie herself did not hold the pen of a 
 ready writer, and her good sense kept her from at 
 tempting more than she could do, but her entreaties 
 were of no avail. Day by day the postman brought 
 the ever accumulating pile of letters, letters, letters, 
 until they assumed in Donald s mind a shape akin to 
 that of the frogs of Egypt, when they invaded the 
 bedrooms and the kneading troughs, the courts and 
 the secret chambers of the old Egyptians in the days 
 when the Lord hardened Pharaoh s heart. 
 
 233
 
 234 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 "I wis He would harden you heart, papa, "said 
 precocious little Lois one morning, when she saw the 
 frown deepen on her father s face. "I wis you d 
 burn up the letters, all of them." 
 
 "Hush, Lois, what a naughty wish!" exclaimed 
 her mother. "The truth is, Donald, we talk too 
 freely before this child. She is growing unchildlike, 
 it s almost uncanny." 
 
 " Run away, darling," said the father of Lois, with 
 a smile that lit his rugged face. " What would father 
 do without his blessing?" 
 
 "You spoil her," interposed the mother. 
 
 " Love does not spoil," he answered, with a tender 
 look towards the doorway where the stiff white 
 frock and red-gold head of his daughter were disap 
 pearing. " Mattie, will you tell me how people find 
 me out? Here, child, drop your housewifery and at 
 least help me sort out to-day s mail." 
 
 Among the letters were those which came to hus 
 band and wife as legitimate claims, reminders of sub 
 scriptions about to lapse, certain annuities they paid 
 annually to keep in comfort old pensioners and re 
 tainers of their families, and calls for aid from causes 
 to which both were more or less pledged. But these 
 were in the minority. People whom the Waughs 
 did not know and of whom they had never so much 
 as heard, people who lived in distant states, wrote to 
 them preferring all sorts of petitions. One family 
 asked a sum of money to pay off a mortgage. 
 Another had a gifted daughter for whom they sought 
 the means for a musical education in Italy. Yet 
 another wanted a piano and stated their preference as 
 to the maker. The pleas were couched in terms of
 
 THE BURDEN OF WEALTH 235 
 
 fulsome admiration, or were stated tersely, so that 
 they assumed the air of demands, and the mere re 
 plying to them was a tax that grew even less easy 
 to bear. 
 
 "Look here, Donald!" 
 
 Mattie s lips were pressed together; her eyes were 
 steadily fixed on her husband s face. 
 
 " Lois, dear baby, was wiser than we. The real 
 place for most of this impertinent rubbish is the fire. 
 Listen. From this time on, if you notice these un 
 known writers who are crying give, give, you must 
 either have a clerk and let him come here daily, or 
 else have a printed form, and use it. The new little 
 invention, the typewriter, will be a great help to men 
 situated as you are. My mind is made up, Don 
 ald. I m not going to let you have paralysis from 
 overwork of this sort, without a protest. Your 
 every-day work is more than enough for one man 
 to carry." 
 
 " You maybe right," he assented rather against his 
 will. 
 
 "Certainly I am right, but right or wrong, I m not 
 going to stand by and see you kill yourself. You, 
 who have been so strong, ought not to break so easily 
 or so soon, as you will if this is not stopped." 
 
 "Another thing," said Mattie, after a pause, "is 
 pressing on me. We ve reached the place where we 
 need a country home. This used to be country-like 
 here on the hill, but the city has been creeping up 
 ward, and we must fly from it. We must have a 
 place of escape." 
 
 Donald shook his head. 
 
 " I was born and bred in Islington, my dear, and it
 
 236 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 is good enough for me still. I am perfectly satisfied 
 with this home." 
 
 A spacious home it was, with a wide central hall, 
 and lofty-ceiled rooms opening on either side. Every 
 appointment spoke of luxury and the nameless at 
 mosphere of wealth that need count no item of cost, 
 filled it from cellar to attic. Donald felt no little pride 
 in the solidity and subdued magnificence of this man 
 sion, and from time to time he had built here a wing, 
 there a room or two, until it had become, in his view, 
 an ideal home. Mattie s proposition did not com 
 mend itself to him, and, as he was a person whose 
 mental processes outside of business ruts were never 
 swift, as likewise, he was, with men in general, 
 disposed to veto a domestic plan that did not origi 
 nate in his own brain, he refused to discuss the 
 notion. 
 
 "Here we are. Here we will stay!" he observed 
 with an air of finality. Mattie apparently dropped 
 the matter. 
 
 Only apparently. That same day she visited the 
 office of a real estate agent and made tentative in 
 quiries about country neighborhoods. She had re 
 solved on buying a cottage for herself if Donald con 
 tinued to negative her proposal. Fortunately for 
 Mattie, she had her own little fortune, which, under 
 her husband s good management, had trebled, and 
 she was able to do what she chose. 
 
 "Are you looking for a summer home, Mrs. 
 Waugh ?" asked the agent. 
 
 "1 have not decided what 1 will do with it," she 
 replied. "Perhaps I may not occupy the place, but 
 I want to buy a little home that we may step into at
 
 THE BURDEN OF WEALTH 237 
 
 short notice, if we wish to do so. I desire a chim 
 ney, a veranda, and a view," she summed up the 
 catalogue of her wants thus conclusively. 
 
 Meanwhile, little Lois, the picture of sturdy health, 
 began to pine and require a change. As soon as this 
 became evident, her father concurred in her mother s 
 plans. She smiled when she heard him tell a friend 
 that owing to their little girl s need of fresh air and 
 more space, he had been thinking of buying some 
 big outdoor place where she might be turned into 
 pasture, like a colt. 
 
 " I am quite sure," he said most innocently, " that 
 the city is not the best place in which to raise a 
 child." Again, after the manner of men, he had 
 adopted his wife s suggestion as his own, and fancied 
 that he had been the initial possessor of the good 
 idea. Lois drooping like a flower on the stem was 
 potential in bringing about a removal of the family 
 from Islington to a higher altitude for several months. 
 The Islington home was not closed. Donald spent 
 some midweek days there, and a trustworthy house 
 keeper remained in charge with several maids, so 
 that at any moment the family could return, without 
 an hour s inconvenience. 
 
 As for the invading letters, their name was legion 
 still, but a courteous printed form of acknowledg 
 ment was substituted for the letter written by hand, 
 and one straw was removed from the load Donald 
 had to bear. By degrees, as Lois galloped to and 
 fro on her pony, fed the chickens, and learned to 
 take care of a garden of her very own, she regained 
 her color and though a weedy, somewhat ungainly 
 child, gave promise of grace when her angles should
 
 238 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 be smoothed, and her form fill out. She was more 
 than ever the light of her father s eyes. 
 
 Next to her father, Lois had a devoted cavalier in 
 Max Pomfret. Why Max, with his easy-going, soft- 
 voiced, southern manner, his tendency to draw the 
 long bow, his slight regard for obligations binding 
 on other men, and his jaunty indifference to money, 
 should have been so great a favorite with Donald, 
 who was in every quality a complete contrast to him, 
 nobody could explain. Max, however, had found the 
 key to the big man s heart and was ensconced there, 
 as few friends were. Donald was aware in himself 
 of an instinctive antagonism which asserted its 
 presence many a time when he was with Harry 
 Osbourn. The impulse to contradict, to argue, to 
 take the other side, was often too strong for him 
 when with Harry, whom he had befriended and 
 supported and tried to like for Eleanor s sake. Dis 
 trust of Harry s ability kept pace with belief in it, in 
 a strange paradox, and coupled with this was a 
 determined effort to be more than fair, more than 
 cordial in his intercourse with the man for whom he 
 did not care. The result was a mixture of patronage 
 in his kindest behavior which Harry was quick to 
 feel and resent. 
 
 Max Pomfret, on the other hand, never aroused 
 antagonism in the breast of the millionaire, and 
 never was treated with the slightest arrogance. He 
 came into the home on a footing of equality and 
 brotherly comradeship, and gradually was expected 
 to perform any number of little friendly services for 
 Mattie, to undertake her commissions, and to go and 
 come almost when he chose. It was he who
 
 THE BURDEN OF WEALTH 239 
 
 taught Lois to ride, and when there happened to be 
 no governess for her, volunteered to teach her Latin, 
 and trained her in the first intricacies of English 
 grammar. A genius and an inventor, Max had long 
 been a poor man, but he did not disturb himself 
 about it, nor was he unduly elated, when, one morn 
 ing, by means of a successful invention, he woke up 
 and discovered that he was rich. A few more com 
 forts thereafter were sent to the hermitage, in which 
 his two old sisters were quietly spending their 
 sequestered lives. They had sunk into the cloistral 
 life once more, as if they had never left it. Oftener 
 than of old, Max disturbed that tranquillity, but it 
 was his little mother who was the magnet to draw 
 him. Between the sisters and Max there was little 
 sympathy. It is nearly impossible ever to bridge a 
 gulf which has been made by a long cessation of 
 common interests, and by an unexplained separation. 
 Youth and love and hope and faith dropped into a 
 chasm, are not often drawn up again intact from its 
 abysmal depths.
 
 XXVIU 
 LOSING HIS GRIP 
 
 "T y ARRY OSBOURN is losing his grip." 
 
 I 1 Max Pomfret was lounging in a large 
 
 1 _M easy chair. Donald Waugh as usual was 
 sitting bolt upright in a stiff backed chair, disdaining 
 ease of attitude. Donald was constitutionally averse 
 to lounging. 
 
 "What do you mean ? " 
 
 Max puffed away intermittently at his pipe before 
 replying. When he spoke it was in his soft Virginian 
 drawl, intensified by feeling. He was extremely 
 fond of Harry. 
 
 "I mean that. He works harder than ever. He 
 studies without ceasing. But his mind is jaded. 
 He s like a broken-winded horse. He s lost pluck. 
 He spurs himself on to hide his disheartenments from 
 you all, and that makes it worse. I tell you, Mr. 
 Waugh, Harry s losing his grip." 
 
 Most inopportunely, Harry walked in. Not a trace 
 of the unfortunate loss which Max described was 
 visible. He was clear-eyed, well-groomed, fastidi 
 ously neat, and looked like a prosperous man with 
 whom the world went well. Donald knew that his 
 practice was large, and that whatever legal business 
 he had confided to his care had been safely carried 
 forward. There seemed to be no screw loose. 
 
 Nevertheless, though after Harry s departure, 
 240
 
 LOSING HIS GRIP 241 
 
 Donald jeered at him, Max Pomfret reiterated his 
 opinion. 
 
 " His wife doesn t think that," Donald finally said. 
 
 "Not she. But love can be blind. Poor woman. 
 Something will open her eyes." 
 
 "Max, your prophecies don t always come true, 
 and your impressions are often mistaken. Pick 
 somebody else out for criticism. Harry Osbourn s 
 all right." 
 
 No more was said. Donald had too much on his 
 hands to spend precious time in speculations so 
 vague and discussions so fruitless. At the moment 
 he was engaged in the ordering of a funeral proces 
 sion, an affair of local pomp and pride. As a lead 
 ing citizen, many of the preparations were brought 
 to him for approval, and much of the arrangement 
 was laid upon him. The head centre of Islington 
 seemed to be Donald Waugh s office. 
 
 A great general had passed away. He had been 
 an Islington man, and to Islington s new cemetery on 
 the hill, overlooking the sea, he was to be brought 
 for burial. The military organizations, the Grand 
 Army of the Republic, many civic orders, many private 
 citizens were to march in array. Donald sent for 
 Harry Osbourn, and found in him no waning of 
 powers as they planned the routine of the day. It 
 was carried through without a hitch or any mortify 
 ing delay or break. The last rites were paid to Isling 
 ton s hero, and he was buried with the flag he loved 
 wrapped around his coffin. 
 
 Processions were just then the favorite methods of 
 signalizing notable days and dates, processions and 
 orations. The peculiar joy of Islington focused
 
 242 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 around one such fete which it proudly called its own, 
 and which had belonged to it since its embryo village 
 beginnings. Once a year, in the spring, the children 
 of the Sunday-schools walked in long gleaming lines, 
 preceded by music, carrying flowers and parasols 
 and flags, singing now and then as they went along 
 Islington s main streets. It required no little good 
 management to unite the shining columns as they 
 issued from the several churches, the little girls in 
 white with gay sashes and fluttering ribbons, the 
 boys in their best suits, the ministers and deacons and 
 elders marching in their train, and to bring this beau 
 tiful grand army of children safe to the day s end. 
 Speeches were made in the churches, and refresh 
 ments were served. In this particular year, Lois 
 Waugh and Lee Osbourn both trotted along in line, 
 their mothers walking with them, and Harry Osbourn 
 achieved the rare distinction of making an address to 
 the children in one of the largest churches, an address 
 the children themselves liked and to which they lis 
 tened. 
 
 Many people can talk above children s heads. 
 Many can talk down to children with painstaking 
 endeavor. Only a few have the art of captivating the 
 children, amusing, interesting and satisfying them. 
 This art Harry possessed. 
 
 Donald was reassured. He laughed again as he 
 thought of Max s owlish prediction. 
 
 "The old fellow s wrong," he murmured. "Os- 
 bourn s a stronger man than ever." 
 
 As the children, having been dismissed from their 
 separate schools, were going home in twos and 
 threes, and little groups, chatting over the, to them,
 
 LOSING HIS GRIP 243 
 
 momentous afternoon, an incident occurred that con 
 firmed Donald s conclusion. Down the street at 
 breakneck speed dashed a runaway horse, dragging 
 after him a light wagon in which with white terrified 
 faces, sat a lady and a little girl. Faster and faster 
 rushed the horse. The spectators, horrified, expected 
 every second to see the woman and child thrown to 
 the pavement. The road was fortunately clear for 
 several blocks, but directly before the frantic horse 
 was a bridge with stone abutments, and the bridge 
 spanned the river that divided North from South 
 Islington. 
 
 Harry Osbourn was sauntering homeward slowly, 
 with a step that showed fatigue. The shouts and 
 shrieks of the crowd aroused him. He heard the 
 thunder of the horse s hoofs, the clatter of the car 
 riage. He caught a glimpse of the lady s deathly 
 pale face. 
 
 In an instant, quick as lightning, he strode directly 
 in front of the horse, and caught the bridle. It was 
 a feat few men could have performed successfully, 
 but this man was tall, strongly built, and fearless of 
 physical danger, and had known and ruled horses 
 from his boyhood. The horse swerved, stopped 
 short, and stood panting. 
 
 Harry recognized the lady as a neighbor. There 
 were many hands ready to help her from her seat and 
 to lift down her little child. A man in the throng 
 stepped out to lead the horse back. 
 
 "Ah, Mrs. Lindsay," said Harry, as she uttered 
 broken thanks in a tremulous voice, "don t thank 
 me. Thank God, you and the baby are not killed. 
 And dear lady, after this, let me urge you, as I urge
 
 244 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 my wife, never to trust any horse, anywhere, unless 
 you have hold of the reins." 
 
 "My brother Will was driving. He had just 
 stepped into a store for a second, and something, I 
 don t know what, frightened Firefly," she explained. 
 
 "Well, remember my advice. A horse is a vain 
 thing for safety." 
 
 Harry continued his walk home. He was tired and 
 shaken up, and his head throbbed. 
 
 " That a trifle like this should upset me," he mut 
 tered. " I must be losing my grip." 
 
 Once at home and in his own quiet den, a strange 
 thing happened. Not for years, not since the hour 
 when he knelt at the altar in the Methodist meeting, 
 had the old temptation assailed Harry Osbourn. He 
 had felt himself immune from that. Though men 
 had poured out wine in his presence, though he had 
 sat at dinners where toast after toast was offered 
 and drank in sparkling glasses, though he had passed 
 saloons whence the reek of the liquor came out on 
 the sidewalk, he had not been tempted. To-day, 
 for some unaccountable reason, the devil pounced 
 upon him again and took him by the throat. The 
 lust, the desire, the. rage of eager anxiety, were so 
 peremptory, that the conflict was fierce. It shook 
 him literally as a terrier shakes a rat. He strove 
 against it but weakly, dumbly, faint-heartedly. 
 Presently he slipped down the stairs, so furtively 
 that it was to himself, when he opened his front 
 door, as if he sneaked out of the house and, with 
 rapid strides, made for the nearest drug store. 
 
 " Give me a half-pint of your best brandy for me 
 dicinal use," he said to the clerk, paying for the bottle
 
 LOSING HIS GRIP 245 
 
 when it was handed him, and sheltering it under his 
 light overcoat, as if it were something precious. 
 
 A physician who was standing back of the pre 
 scription counter observed the glitter in Harry s eyes, 
 and the quick almost feverish clutch of his hand as 
 he took the bottle from the clerk. 
 
 " If I did not know Osbourn for a teetotaller," he 
 said, "I would fancy he had at some time been a 
 drunkard." 
 
 "Mr. Osbourn ?" the proprietor asked, "the law 
 yer who lives just round the corner ? He never 
 drinks." 
 
 " I know it," answered the doctor. 
 
 Hairy went home. The mocking devil that dogged 
 his footsteps, invisible but real, slipped over the door 
 sill with him, and its black shadow crossed the hall 
 and entered Harry s room. 
 
 " Father dear ? " called a little voice. 
 
 " Yes, Lee, my laddie." 
 
 " It s been a buful time, father. I m goin to say 
 my prayers." 
 
 The father turned the key of his desk on the black 
 bottle and came into the nursery. The little child 
 knelt at his knee, white robed for bed, his curls 
 damp against his pure forehead. 
 
 " 1 can say, Our Father in Heaven now, as well 
 as Now I lay me, " said the little one proudly. 
 Slowly, reverently, petition after petition fell from 
 the baby lips. 
 
 The mocking devil retreated, for just then, invisible 
 too, but most real, a bright angel winged its way 
 straight from the throne, and its white radiance en 
 folded father and child.
 
 246 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 An angel sent on one of God s errands, to 
 strengthen a tempted man. Harry knelt by Lee s 
 crib and prayed for himself, and God heard amid 
 the seraphim and answered swiftly, an answer of 
 peace. 
 
 Eleanor kissed her husband and her boy. She was 
 in white. Harry liked her best in that, and she wore 
 it much at home. Her dress fell around her in 
 straight folds, severe, almost classic. Her husband 
 did not tell her of the adventure he had had in com 
 ing home, but she saw that he was tired, and she 
 felt a new tenderness in the embrace he gave her. 
 He held her closely, in arms that were loath to let 
 her go, and kissed her with lingering fondness. 
 
 " Sweetheart," he murmured. 
 
 " Yes, dearest," she answered, gently removing 
 herself from his hold. 
 
 "Don t do that," he whispered, "don t take your 
 self away from me, Eleanor. You are my own. I 
 love you. I love you. Darling, if anything should 
 happen to me, you would be sorry, wouldn t you ? " 
 
 "If anything should happen to you, Harry, it 
 would kill me, but nothing is going to happen. Why 
 be so tragic, dear ? Dinner will be ready presently, 
 and you are not dressed. Please make haste." 
 
 In his mood, her aloofness and her commonplace 
 request to hurry and dress for dinner, jarred on the 
 man. How singular it is that we are so dense at 
 times with our best beloved. The devil came a little 
 nearer, the angel drew a little away. But, angel 
 and devil, both unseen, saw one another, and the 
 angel s shield was proof against the demon s darts. 
 
 Harry went on with his dressing. Once, twice,
 
 LOSING HIS GRIP 247 
 
 thrice, he turned to the locked desk. But he went on 
 dressing. 
 
 From the drawing-room below floated up the 
 sweet voice of his wife, as she sat at the piano. It 
 was a familiar hymn that Eleanor loved. 
 
 " There is a green hill far away 
 
 Beyond a city wall, 
 Where the dear Lord was crucified, 
 Who died to save us all." 
 
 Triumphantly the words rose, and borne on the 
 silvery voice brought their message to his ear, as the 
 tempted man strove with the old demon. 
 
 "A green hill far away." Yes, and on it a cross, 
 and on. that cross One mighty to save. Harry Os- 
 bourn had a vision of that figure with the nails in His 
 hands and His feet. 
 
 He went to the desk, unlocked it, opened his win 
 dow, and threw the black bottle out, far out, over 
 the garden, into a vacant lot where it fell, shattered 
 among stones and shards and rubbish. The van 
 quished devil fled. The angel lingered a moment to 
 drop a blessing over little Lee asleep in his white 
 bed. Harry went down to dinner. His wife was 
 still singing.
 
 XXIX 
 IN THE ROSE GARDEN AGAIN 
 
 THE air of Islington vibrated with excite 
 ment, and every household felt the atmos 
 pheric conditions that followed the strike, 
 rich and poor being bound in one bundle there as 
 everywhere. Tranquillity had flown from the scene. 
 People were in the ground-swell of an agitation 
 foreign to their experience, and not for some weeks 
 or months could former relations be entirely restored 
 and former prosperity return. 
 
 One day Eleanor received a cry for help from 
 Clivedon. Not yet had it reached the prominence in 
 business that had been anticipated, although it was 
 making progress, and its features of a reposeful vil 
 lage were essentially the same. Shops had not in 
 vaded the residential part of the southern seaport, and 
 the detached homes stood as of old in the shadow of 
 their vines and fig-trees. To the Pomfret girls there 
 seemed no change, as they settled down to the famil 
 iar routine of their wools and silks, their Scripture 
 pieces, and endless monotony of fine embroidery and 
 tapestry. Their home was fragrant with potpourri; 
 their garden rich with roses. They never observed 
 that their mother was growing daily more ethereal, 
 that she had to rest frequently, that she tottered 
 when she walked. Had any one hinted it, their 
 feelings would have been indignant. Their mother 
 
 248
 
 IN THE ROSE GARDEN 249 
 
 belonged to their world, and they never thought of 
 losing her. 
 
 A great shock came to them when after a brief ill 
 ness she passed away. They had so absolutely de 
 pended upon her for every detail of their days, much 
 like children in the nursery, that their bewilderment 
 was pitiful. Max went to his mother s funeral, but 
 could not stay long after it, and when he told the 
 Osbourns how desolate Clemmie and Dora were, how 
 impossible it was for them to resume their life, and 
 how they wandered to and fro wringing their hands, 
 and looking like wan ghosts, Eleanor was beyond 
 measure distressed. 
 
 "Pick up the boy and go to them, dearest, said 
 her husband. "Make them a little visit. It will do 
 them a lot of good, and it won t hurt you. I d like 
 you to go to some stiller place than Islington for a 
 breathing-spell." 
 
 "Can you go too?" 
 
 "1 wish I could, but I m too busy. I cannot even 
 think of it," Harry said. 
 
 "Then I don t see how I can be spared. You 
 cannot keep bachelor s hall in any sort of com 
 fort." 
 
 " For a fortnight? Why not? Pomfret will stay 
 with me, if you like. Tis your Christian duty, 
 Nellie, to cheer up those forlorn little ladies. Pray 
 be persuaded." 
 
 Eleanor considered, and to aid her decision there 
 arrived a woeful letter written in Miss Dora s prim 
 crabbed, old-fashioned hand. She could not refuse 
 an invitation that was so pleading, and with her boy 
 and his nurse, she again sought the city by the sea,
 
 250 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 where the rose blooms till the short winter melts into 
 the fervid spring, and the violets smile up into the 
 February sky. 
 
 What a welcome she received! The Pomfret 
 house had been sought by friendly callers ever since 
 its dear old mistress had gone through its doors to 
 heaven, and now when Eleanor Osbourn came, by 
 some swift conveyance of intelligence everybody 
 knew it. Doctor and Mrs. Abbott, the Moores, and 
 the entire neighborhood, made haste to bring good 
 wishes, and the black people, those who had served 
 in Eleanor s kitchen, came too. The baby was an 
 object of admiration, and his mother did not try to 
 conceal her pride in his sturdy good looks and won 
 derful good behavior. 
 
 She did what she came to do, diverted the two old 
 spinsters, so fragile and wan in their dessicated ma 
 turity, so juvenile in their acquaintance with the 
 actual world, and led them to see that they ought 
 not to sit down in despair. They talked continually 
 about their mother, and tiptoed around after Eleanor, 
 barring the shutters she opened and tying them up 
 with black ribbon, giving the house the look and air 
 of a tomb. 
 
 "Miss Dora," Eleanor expostulated, "if your dear 
 mother were here would she want you and Miss 
 Clemmie to shut out the light, and go about with 
 such doleful faces?" 
 
 "No, Mrs. Osbourn, but respect for her memory 
 makes it incumbent on us to do this. Besides it is 
 the custom." 
 
 " Do you believe in another life ?" 
 
 "Certainly."
 
 IN THE ROSE GARDEN 251 
 
 "Do you believe that your mother has gone to 
 heaven ? " 
 
 "Of course. Mother was a consistent Christian 
 while she was here. She said she was glad to go to 
 her Saviour. She was worried about nothing. Oh, 
 not even about Max, and that astonished sister and 
 me. At the very end, her face lit up with the most 
 beautiful smile you ever saw and she reached out her 
 hands, and cried out joyfully, Why, Jack! 
 
 " Who was Jack ?" 
 
 " Our father. He died when we all were young." 
 
 " Now, Miss Dora, to me it is the strangest contra 
 diction the way people act, precisely as if their dear 
 ones were gone forever, or taken to some state of 
 torment, closing doors and windows, and actually 
 making a cult of their sorrow. It isn t Christian, 
 dear, it isn t even pagan, it s, well I don t know 
 what to call it, except that it dishonors the Lord, and 
 does the dear ones no good. When my father died, 
 mother wouldn t have a blind closed, and we kept 
 flowers in every room, for we knew he wanted us 
 to be cheerful. Don t you think you and Miss 
 Clemmie can try my plan, and not mourn in this de 
 pressing way ? " 
 
 " Clemmie will do whatever I say," replied Dora. 
 
 " So I fancied. And that s why I m coaxing you 
 to be brave for her sake." 
 
 Suddenly Miss Dora put her hands before her face, 
 and with a great sob broke down, and cried, 
 
 " Mrs. Osbourn, we can do it while you stay here, 
 but what shall we do when you go home? For 
 mother walks around at night, and we re frightened, 
 Clemmie and I. I believe she walks in the daytime
 
 252 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 too. I wouldn t dare go into the parlor alone, any 
 time, and only last evening, when I was taking the 
 things out of her bureau drawers, I felt her touch my 
 arm, and I glanced in the mirror, and I saw her 
 there, looking so vexed. She never liked us to med 
 dle with her things. An instant after she was gone, 
 but I heard her say, Don t, Dora. " 
 
 Eleanor listened, half doubting her sense of sight 
 and hearing. Then she came to a swift decision. 
 
 "Miss Dora," she said, "your nerves are all un 
 strung. You cannot stay in Clivedon at present. 
 You and Clemmie are to turn the key in the door, 
 and go home with me to Islington. I ll telegraph 
 your brother and Harry, and we ll start to-morrow 
 morning." 
 
 The sisters were as helpless as captive doves, and 
 Eleanor made every arrangement for them, going to 
 make her farewell visits while they rested in the af 
 ternoon. She strolled in their rose garden, and ask 
 ing permission of the present resident, went into her 
 own old one and into the house that had been hers; 
 and sat in the remembered rooms. In the sunset, she 
 lingered on the veranda and looked dreamily over the 
 blue Elizabeth River, whitened by many sails. From 
 the navy yard, not far away, floated the strains of 
 "The Star Spangled Banner." The spell of the South 
 land was on Eleanor; she wished she might stay 
 forever here in the outdoor country, where all was 
 so blithe, so captivating, so heartsome. The sunset 
 paled, a rosy afterglow suffused the west, and she 
 rose and went back to comfort the timid mourners in 
 the house beyond. 
 
 At sunset the next day, the Old Dominion steamer
 
 IN rHE ROSE GARDEN 253 
 
 was ploughing its way through the Chesapeake, and 
 the Pomfret sisters were on board, in the shadow of 
 Eleanor s wing. She knew that the dear mother did 
 not walk about her house for the torment of her chil 
 dren, and she knew that they would know it too, 
 once they regained their poise. It was Dora s own 
 face in the glass, that had looked like her mother s; 
 the likeness was plain. But Eleanor could not have 
 left the two poor things to dree their weird alone. 
 She cared for them as if they were little children.
 
 XXX 
 TROUBLE THAT WAS NOT FORESEEN 
 
 HOME was not reached a day too soon. Max 
 met the travellers as the boat touched the 
 pier. 
 
 "Where is Harry?" Eleanor looked around for 
 her husband, disappointed that he was not the first 
 to greet her. 
 
 " Harry ?" Max repeated her question. Then she 
 saw, shouldering his way through the crowd of peo 
 ple, not Harry, but Donald, and he grasped her hand 
 warmly, saying, " You ve had a rough voyage, 
 haven t you ? But here you are." 
 
 "Where s Harry?" Eleanor was by this time 
 thoroughly alarmed. 
 
 Now, Donald had come expressly that he might 
 keep Eleanor from alarm until she was safe from 
 curious eyes, within her own doors. So he guided 
 her towards a carriage, and managed to get her 
 safely in it, then stepped in and took a seat beside 
 her, first giving a direction to the driver. Eleanor 
 heard it. 
 
 "No," she said, "I ll go to my own house, 
 Donald." 
 
 " Mattie said " 
 
 " Never mind what Mattie said. I must go home. 
 Is Harry dead ? " 
 
 " Harry dead ? What a question! No, Eleanor. I 
 2 54
 
 TROUBLE NOT FORESEEN 255 
 
 saw Harry yesterday, as well as ever, and very gay 
 and cheery." 
 
 " Then what has happened ? Is he ill ? Has there 
 been an accident ? " 
 
 "That s what we do not know. Nobody has 
 seen him since nine o clock yesterday morning." 
 
 " You seem to have made a mystery to very little 
 purpose," said Eleanor haughtily. "No doubt my 
 husband wished to give me a surprise and has gone 
 to Clivedon by train. Have you telegraphed to find 
 out ?" 
 
 " We have telegraphed, but have ascertained noth 
 ing. Here we are, and here s Mattie. She said to 
 bring you to our house. Why did she come here ?" 
 
 "You said that, Donald," said Mattie, "I knew 
 Eleanor would come straight home, so I slipped 
 around to meet her. Max has taken his sisters to 
 our house. Eleanor dear, come and have a cup of 
 tea. You look white and faint." 
 
 Mrs. Lee came forward and drew Eleanor into her 
 arms. 
 
 "Oh, mother," she cried, "what can it mean? 
 What has happened to my husband ?" 
 
 " I hope nothing serious, dearest. But don t break 
 down, you may need your strength." 
 
 " I shall not break down, I am not goint to faint." 
 
 She drank the tea that Mattie poured, and then ate 
 bread and butter. Though people s souls are on the 
 rack of anxiety and their hearts breaking, cups of tea 
 and plates of bread and butter will be off ered them to 
 the end of time. 
 
 " I thank you so much for coming to meet me," 
 she said to Donald. "Now I ll go and see my little
 
 256 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 tired boy to his bed. Mother, have you searched 
 my desk and room ? Did Harry leave any note for 
 me?" 
 
 " Not a scrap of paper, Eleanor." 
 
 At the door she turned with her hand on the knob, 
 and looked searchingly at Donald Waugh. The man s 
 face was leonine as ever, though the red hair was 
 sprinkled with gray. The shrewd eyes answered 
 hers from a pent house of shaggy overhanging 
 brows. 
 
 "Donald, do you know of any reason why Harry 
 should run away ? Is there any occasion for it ? Be 
 frank with me for old friendship s sake." 
 
 "On my honor, Eleanor, there is no reason." 
 
 "So 1 would have sworn. Then I am to blame, 
 for having deserted my post. 1 should not have left 
 him for a single day." 
 
 "My child," pleaded her mother, "don t speak so. 
 Don t be morbid. You have done right, always 
 right, my child." 
 
 "God knows," sighed Eleanor. 
 
 She went up-stairs and undressed her boy herself, 
 putting him to bed in his crib, even singing to him. 
 When he was fast asleep she still lingered, holding 
 close the dimpled hand. 
 
 What was it she feared ? She literally did not 
 know. The thing that had terrified her, weeks be 
 fore, when Harry was on the brink of nervous ex 
 haustion, had receded; it had been to her thought 
 safe to leave him. He was again absorbed in his 
 work, and perfectly normal. 
 
 When she came down to dinner, a man in the uni 
 form of a captain of police came forward to meet her.
 
 TROUBLE NOT FORESEEN 257 
 
 She recognized him at once. He had been a soldier 
 in Harry s company in the old war days. 
 
 "Why, Tom Meredith!" she exclaimed. 
 
 " Mr. Waugh sent the captain s description to head 
 quarters, but said that nothing was to get into the 
 papers. I came around to see if I could be of service. 
 Captain Osbourn had no enemies ?" 
 
 None that we know of." 
 
 " Did he make any during the strike ? " 
 
 "I can testify that he did not," said Donald em 
 phatically. 
 
 " Was he in the habit of carrying much money ?" 
 
 "No," replied Eleanor. 
 
 "Can you ascertain what money he had when he 
 left home ?" 
 
 "Probably yes, by inquiry at the bank to-mor 
 row." 
 
 The police captain hesitated. His next question, in 
 a very low voice, was not meant to be audible to 
 Eleanor. Nevertheless she heard it, and responded. 
 
 "Was he possibly interested in any one beside his 
 wife ? " 
 
 "For shame, Tom Meredith! " exclaimed Eleanor. 
 " You to ask that! You should know your old cap 
 tain better." 
 
 The policeman looked embarrassed. 
 
 Donald Waugh smiled confidently. 
 
 "Don t take up that theory, Meredith. There s 
 nothing in it. My only fear is that Mr. Osbourn has 
 become temporarily insane." 
 
 Graven on Eleanor s mind as with the point of a 
 diamond were the days and nights that followed. 
 Dora and Clemmie Pomfret having once known an
 
 258 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 experience not unlike hers, forgot their own sorrow 
 in supporting her. Mrs. Lee and Kathleen left their 
 home to stay in the house of suspense. Everything 
 went on as usual, except that the veil of an impene 
 trable silence had dropped between Harry Osbourn 
 and his home. 
 
 Had any one foretold that to Eleanor should come 
 this special form of keen torture, the wearing anxiety 
 of prolonged suspense, with no reason to justify it, 
 she would have scouted the idea. Nor could any 
 one have predicted that she would bear it as she 
 did; patiently, perseveringly, bravely following every 
 offered clue, refusing to give up hope, and, after a 
 little, wearing a face that if not bright was at least 
 calm, and strong. 
 
 "Your sister is the most extraordinary woman I 
 ever saw," said Dick Deland to Kathleen. "I ll tell 
 you what I think. You know Harry had a slight 
 sunstroke the year before they came back to Isling 
 ton?" 
 
 "Yes, what of it?" 
 
 " It may have left some sequence, that none of us 
 have thought of. Dr. Abbott wrote me that he be 
 lieved that it might be accountable for this. Harry 
 may have been hurt, and have forgotten his own 
 identity. Or, he may be just a little off his balance." 
 
 " If he is in his right mind, and he s letting Eleanor 
 suffer as she does, I, for one, shall never speak to him 
 again." 
 
 "The worst of it is," said poor Dick ruefully, "it 
 is putting off our wedding. But, sweetheart, do you 
 believe we ought to wait indefinitely, now that we 
 may marry when we choose?"
 
 TROUBLE NOT FORESEEN 259 
 
 "My dear Dick, what would Eleanor say if we 
 broke in on her sorrow with wedding bells ?" 
 
 " Let s ask your mother." 
 
 They did. To their surprise, Mrs. Lee agreed with 
 Dick, that obstacles having been removed, Kathleen 
 and he should wait no longer. 
 
 Dick s people had been a drag on him. His parents 
 had required his help. He had been working stren 
 uously to support his brothers and sisters and educate 
 them. For him, the strain was now over, and as his 
 engagement and Kathleen s had already been a long 
 one, Mrs. Lee was unwilling to let it continue longer. 
 The wedding was very quiet, but Eleanor attended 
 it, carrying herself with a fortitude that was queenly. 
 
 As the newly-married pair stepped into the carriage 
 that was to convey them to the train for their wed 
 ding journey, Dick whispered something to Eleanor. 
 
 " Perhaps," she said. The suggestion was to make 
 a thorough search of the little hamlet in Ohio, where 
 Harry Osbourn had grown up. His family had long 
 since died, or moved away, few people in the place 
 would remember him, yet Dick felt that he might be 
 hiding there. They had looked everywhere else. 
 
 Eleanor went home to her lonely house and laid 
 aside her rich gown, folding it with care. Her heart 
 was very sore, yet she tried to be glad that Kathleen s 
 happy day had come. The temptation to fear, even 
 for Kathleen, was a sharp one, but Eleanor resolved 
 bravely, then and there, that no grief of hers should 
 ever make her hard or skeptical, as to the truth and 
 joy in the world, or take from her the habit of sym 
 pathy. God helping her, she would trample sorrow 
 under her feet, except when only God could see.
 
 XXXI 
 THY GOLD TO REFINE 
 
 EVERY possible inquiry as to Harry Osbourn s 
 disappearance from his usual haunts had of 
 course been made. At home the servants de 
 clared that he had breakfasted in the ordinary leisurely 
 manner, read his morning paper and gone out as 
 usual, with nothing at all differing from the course he 
 always pursued. The office people confirmed the 
 impression thus made of his having been altogether 
 himself, and the judge before whom he had last ap 
 peared in an inquiry of some importance, emphasized 
 the statement that in his opinion, the man had been 
 perfectly poised and mentally clear. That was con 
 clusive testimony as to the day before. 
 
 Some weeks after Eleanor s return, a gentleman 
 called on her, whose voice and manner were vaguely 
 familiar, touching some far away note of association, 
 although it was so faint and evanescent a note, that 
 she tried to dismiss it from her mind as she con 
 versed with the white haired stranger, a man whose 
 erect figure time had not bent, whose dark eyes time 
 had not dimmed. 
 
 After a little talk, he said with a certain hesitation, 
 "Mrs. Osbourn, it seems to be my fate to be mixed 
 up with the chief sorrows of your life. I am the 
 man who came years ago, from Aldis, to tell you of 
 your father s death." 
 
 260
 
 THT GOLD rO REFINE 261 
 
 "Ah!" exclaimed Eleanor. "I remember you 
 now." 
 
 "I may explain that I am an old acquaintance of 
 your husband s family, and that 1 have known him 
 from boyhood. A short time after he vanished from 
 Islington he called on me in Aldis; he said that he 
 was passing northward on business, and mentioned 
 that you were in the South. It was then I learned 
 that he had married Judge Lee s daughter." 
 
 "Did Harry seem troubled, or in any way 
 strange ? " 
 
 "Not in the least. And he was well provided 
 with money. He took pains to let me see a large 
 roll of bills. This is all I can tell you." 
 
 The strange visitor withdrew, and Eleanor realized 
 that for the second time she had encountered him, 
 and he had not given her his name. He had this 
 time brought a little comfort, being the first person 
 who had conveyed tangible evidence that Harry was 
 alive and going somewhere of his own volition, some 
 hours after Islington s dust had been shaken from his 
 feet. 
 
 In later years Eleanor Osbourn was wont to say 
 that the experiences of this critical time on which 
 she had entered divided her life into two continents 
 with a gulf between. Outwardly she governed her 
 self so well that some thought her cold, and others 
 did not suspect how great was the strain her mental 
 ity endured. The words of Dick Deland at the train 
 made a very slight ripple in her thought, as she 
 knew that Harry had few recollections of childhood 
 strong enough to draw him back to the bare little 
 Ohio village which he had never greatly loved. Dick
 
 262 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 and Kathleen, having all America in which to choose 
 the objective point of their wedding journey, selected 
 the small unromantic spot which had been Harry s 
 birthplace, and spent a happy honeymoon there, in 
 an environment different from any they had ever 
 known. They found no trace of the fugitive, yet did 
 not regret their own course. 
 
 Eleanor, while patiently extending her researches in 
 every direction, resolved to take up her small daily 
 duties as if nothing had happened and to preserve 
 her health for Lee s sake and her mother s. Little 
 Lee, too young to understand any lack was the 
 greatest possible comfort and next to him were those 
 two babes in the woods, Miss Clemmie and Miss 
 Dora, who settled down into the novel routine of 
 Northern life, with a positive pleasure, that the sad 
 ness of the home did not suffice to chill. 
 
 Waiting time is never easy time. When one bears 
 it with tears and idle hands and listless longing for 
 coming days and half-hearted hopes, it eats into the 
 very secrets of vitality, like a corroding rust. Once 
 before Eleanor had waited for tidings, but it was an 
 other waiting now. Then she was buoyed up by a 
 great occasion; her sorrow wore the purple of 
 royalty; many another woman was in like case with 
 herself; if her husband were never heard from, his 
 name would be inscribed on his country s roll of 
 deathless honor. Then she was young, intolerant of 
 pain, torn by an anguish that derided consolation. 
 Now she was older, she had been tried in the fire 
 of varied suffering; her faith had grown deeper and 
 stronger. This new grief was robed in ashen gray 
 there was no reason that man could see for its
 
 rnr GOLD ro REFINE 263 
 
 coming. Eleanor felt the hand of God heavy upon 
 her. Nevertheless she made careful toilettes day by 
 day, she went out as usual in all weathers, she 
 visited the sick, and devoted herself more than ever 
 to her mother, whose eyes were almost blind, and 
 who needed some one s ministrations. Eleanor read 
 many hours of every week to Mrs. Lee, history, 
 poetry and stories, chatting with her of the events of 
 the time as related in the press, and deliberately step 
 ping outside herself, that she might make sunshine for 
 others. Here was the true philosophy, better than 
 mere resignation or plaintive acquiescence. She met 
 and faced each day s sharp access of loneliness and 
 pain with an indomitable courage. 
 
 The Hall of Rest under Miss Rachel s motherly 
 management was by this time, the real social centre 
 of Old Field Hollow. After the strike, the privations 
 of the women and children had led them to seek relief 
 at the hall, and Miss Rachel had found herself at the 
 head of an informal cooking and sewing school. 
 Under her management the hall grew into something 
 like an old-fashioned home, with a small h, and bust 
 ling personage though she might be, she never found 
 fault with tired women who came there to sit with 
 folded hands. 
 
 From the first she was certain that Harry s absence 
 would be somehow explained, and that he would re 
 turn, and her sunny optimism did much to save those 
 interested from morbidness. When Eleanor with 
 the resolutely restrained pain in her face, hidden 
 under a smile, came in to teach the Bible class she 
 had again gathered about her, or to sing at one of 
 the little evening services, Miss Rachel s true heart
 
 264 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 was glad and proud; she loved strength in man or 
 woman, most of all in woman. 
 
 The puzzling, baffling, almost maddening thing to 
 every one was the complete absence of motive. 
 Why had Harry gone ? As time passed the mystery 
 deepened. It settled down on Eleanor like a dead 
 weight for all her bravery, and long after others 
 ceased to speak of it, she scanned newspapers, 
 visited almshouses, hospitals, and morgues, and 
 started at a sudden noise, as if a cold hand had been 
 laid on her shoulder. 
 
 Donald Waugh was filled with anger at the man 
 who could thus try a woman s spirit. 
 
 "He has deliberately crushed her under the most 
 tormenting anxiety a wife can suffer," he said, "and 
 for no reason under heaven." 
 
 "Never, if Harry were himself, would he have 
 done such a thing," said Mattie. "Eleanor loves 
 him still and trusts him, so why do you vex yourself 
 so much ? I think it is unlike you, Donald." 
 
 The man did not continue the subject. His wife 
 did. 
 
 "You are exactly like old Mrs. O Halligan when 
 little Tim was lost. So long as they thought the 
 child was drowned or run over on the railroad, she 
 wept and wrung her hands, but when Tim was 
 found and brought home, she was furious and shook 
 him till he couldn t speak. That s what you would 
 do." 
 
 "I know that kind of temper," laughed Donald. 
 "It has a good deal of human nature in it, Mattie. 
 But Harry is not here, so your parallel is not 
 justified."
 
 rur GOLD ro REFINE 265 
 
 - Harry will be found and 1 for one, shall give him 
 a warm welcome home yet. Meanwhile Eleanor is 
 growing more than ever in sweetness; I could almost 
 call her saintly, except that I don t as a rule like 
 saints; they are generally too well aware of their 
 claim to the honor." 
 
 Dick and Kathleen were back, and in the buoyancy 
 of their new estate, they refused to let Eleanor mope. 
 They were in and out of her house every day, and 
 when at last the two little old ladies went home to 
 Virginia again, Kathleen spent a part of each day 
 with her sister. 
 
 She was rummaging one afternoon in a secretary 
 that had belonged to her father, and chanced upon a 
 seldom opened drawer. She uttered an exclamation 
 of surprise. 
 
 "Why Nellie!" 
 
 "What is it, Kathleen?" 
 
 " Look here." 
 
 Eleanor looked, and looked again. Then, with a 
 cry that came from the depths of her soul, she 
 snatched a thick parcel, directed to herself in Harry s 
 hand. Her first tumultuous regret was that it must 
 have lain there, all these dreadful weeks, and that had 
 she but searched, she would have had a message 
 from the absent one. She sank into a chair, white to 
 the lips, but her color returned presently, and Kath 
 leen, divining that she preferred to be alone, went out 
 of the room.
 
 XXXII 
 THE PACKET KATHLEEN FOUND 
 
 "1^ JiT Y darling wife," began the letter which 
 %/ Eleanor opened with trembling fingers. 
 JL T -M. It bore a date twelve months back of the 
 day when it was discovered. " I am half concealing 
 something in this drawer in the hope that I may burn 
 it, and that your eyes may never fall on the lines I 
 write. There are days and days when I feel that you 
 never need read this letter. Other days come when I 
 am not so sure. I am haunted by a persistent pre 
 sentiment that something is going to happen to me. 
 At times it is so great a dread that I hate to be alone, 
 and shrink from my own company. Again, I fear to 
 turn a corner lest some one shall suddenly spring out 
 and pull me down, and yet, again, I am beside my 
 self lest we shall all land in some awful catastrophe. 
 This possession of terror is not new. I have had it 
 ever since the days we lived in the beautiful South, 
 where the roses were so sweet, and the walls were 
 so thick around the garden, and you and I suffered so 
 much together, and yet, were often so happy. I was 
 a brave man once, Eleanor dear, but now I am a 
 coward. There is in my mind a firm conviction that 
 you would get on far better without me. You are 
 surrounded by real and lifelong friends. You have 
 the boy. Your family are around you, and you have 
 immense courage and are full of resource. I am 
 
 266
 
 THE PACKET FOUND 267 
 
 nothing but a millstone round your neck. Without 
 me, you would strike out some splendid line, and 
 follow it; I handicap you. I might as well relieve 
 you of the weight I am, not by dying, I shall never 
 commit the sin of suicide, but by withdrawal, where 
 none can find me, only begging you to forget and 
 forgive one who has never been worthy of the woman 
 who gave him her love. 
 
 " I am dead tired, Eleanor, tired of everything I am 
 doing, tired of law books and cases, and money and 
 work. I want to get into the open. If another war 
 had come, that would have given me an opportunity, 
 but the signs are of peace. I am leaving you with a 
 good provision. My will and a schedule of our 
 effects are in this packet. See that my boy hears 
 nothing bad of his father, Eleanor, and if possible 
 send him to college. 
 
 " You will be asking has there been insanity in the 
 Osbourn family, if you ever do read this. I may, 
 you see, get all right, and you will then never sus 
 pect what I am trying to tell you. I answer no, I am 
 the first, if 1 am insane, which I doubt. I am, I be 
 lieve before God, fully responsible for all I do and 
 think and plan. If only God would help me! But 
 He does not. I ve asked Him, and He has given me 
 up. No use looking to Him any longer." 
 
 The letter was long, rambling, and incoherent, but 
 it was Harry s and it threw light on some darkness. 
 Poor Harry! Eleanor sent it by mail to Dr. Abbott. 
 She had a quiet sense of dependence on the good 
 physician who was so much her friend. He con 
 firmed her in the feeling that Harry had had spells of 
 moodiness and struggle, due, in part, to the strain he
 
 268 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 had undergone in the war days; due, in a larger part, 
 to the physical inroads and mental shocks of the 
 most undermining appetite known to man. The 
 habit had been abandoned, but the effects had re 
 mained. One sentence to the doctor s mind was full 
 of hope. The longing for the open, for the life of hard 
 toil, away from men and women whom he knew, for 
 a complete change, seemed to the doctor to present a 
 gleam of brightness. To be sure, a man in his senses 
 would not have sought this furtively, nor edged away 
 like a fleeing culprit, but here was the twist, that had 
 been too much for him. Dr. Abbott ended by de 
 claring that she must be of good heart: she would 
 soon hear from Harry, or he would return when least 
 expected. In the meantime he concluded by saying, 
 " Emilie is praying for you, Mrs. Osbourn, and 
 Emilie s prayers have access in the court of her 
 King." 
 
 "Never speak of him to me again!" said Donald 
 Waugh, and Mrs. Lee echoed the sentiment. To 
 them, the letter and the report of the gentleman from 
 Aldis, were, alike, proofs of Harry s cruelty. What 
 could Eleanor want of such a husband? He might 
 better stay away. 
 
 " How you can go on loving him," her mother 
 said, "passes my comprehension. Your father was 
 a prince among men. In our married life, he was 
 always tender, thoughtful, just, considerate. He stood 
 between me and the world. 1 never had a wish that 
 he divined and refused to gratify. I was surrounded 
 by his constant attentions. Here are you, poor child, 
 who have been the plaything of a strange destiny, 
 who have gone through scenes and sorrows that
 
 THE PACKET FOUND 269 
 
 might have killed a dozen women. Yet you cling to 
 Harry Osbourn still. Could anything destroy your 
 love ?" 
 
 " Nothing," was Eleanor s answer. " 1 am Harry s 
 wife. I love him just as he is, wherever he is, and 
 whatever he is, better than I could love any other 
 man in the world, and I shall love him, until my last 
 breath. My love shall find and save him yet." 
 
 " He may be where you cannot reach him, dear." 
 
 " I shall find and save him yet." 
 
 "My child, I cannot think of it as in character 
 with your husband, but such things have been, as 
 that a man may have yielded to some temptation 
 which assailed him in a weak moment: the passion 
 for gambling, perhaps, or some grosser form of vice. 
 Human nature is a frail reed, and every child of 
 Adam is so burdened by inherited traits and tenden 
 cies that he may be like a chip freighted with the de 
 sires and weaknesses of those who have gone before, 
 and at the mercy of circumstance. If I knew the 
 whole genealogy of the Osbourns, as 1 do our own 
 family tree, I should be happier in my rnind." 
 
 "This way of talking, mother dear, is not a bit 
 like you. I know Harry; what do 1 care for his 
 grandfather ? 1 repeat that 1 have confidence in him, 
 but, were my confidence vain, I would just love him 
 more fully, with more compassion, but with equal 
 iove. Nothing can make me change a fraction in my 
 regard for Harry. Why, mother, he is my husband. 
 That is the answer to everything any one can say." 
 
 Mrs. Lee stooped and kissed Eleanor, who was sit 
 ting in a low chair, her hands moving softly to and 
 fro in the meshes of some white wool work.
 
 270 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 " Are you ever a moment idle, dear ? " she asked. 
 " What are you making now ? " 
 
 " When it s completed, it s to be a shawl for some 
 body I love," answered Eleanor. " Mother, I have 
 to be busy; when I am not busy I brood. I can 
 never be thankful enough that when I was a little 
 girl, you taught me to sew and crochet and knit. 
 You used to tell me Satan finds some mischief 
 still, for idle hands to do. " 
 
 Women who have the accomplishment of needle- 
 craft, whatever its variety, have a gift which they 
 should not undervalue. The needle in a woman s 
 hand is often a sedative for clamorous nerves, or a 
 shield against oppressive care. In olden days, be 
 fore our girls were so liberally educated as now, they 
 were taught the art of plain sewing, and the intri 
 cacies of embroidery, and with one long white seam, 
 or the flashing steel knitting needle, they tided over 
 some of the harder experiences of life. Education, in 
 whatsoever field it lie, is for discipline and culture 
 more than for mere information, and therefore the 
 training of the hands is not to be despised. 
 
 Little Lee, when he said his nightly prayers, never 
 omitted " God bless dear father! " One evening he 
 looked up into his mother s face, his eyes shining, 
 his rosy lips parted. 
 
 "Do you s pose father says, God bless dear 
 Lee ? " he asked. 
 
 " Yes, darling, I am sure father says that, I am 
 sure of it." 
 
 " I wis father d come home to you and me," said 
 the child. "But he isn t vewy far off, if he says 
 that."
 
 THE PACKET FOUND 271 
 
 And Eleanor, kneeling by her boy, was suddenly 
 comforted. What she had told him stole into her 
 heart as a blessed assurance. She fell asleep that 
 night, saying to herself, 
 
 " God be with you till we meet again, 
 Till we meet, at Jesus feet." 
 
 Which does not necessarily mean, as some of us 
 think, till we meet in Heaven! There are meetings 
 here at Jesus feet, and from them come more results 
 than this world dreams of. 
 
 The mother who takes care of her own little ones, 
 in the unfolding years of their early life, receives 
 compensation, pressed down and running over for 
 her work and care. Children are our truest com 
 forters, and from their little lips drop words of wis 
 dom which they speak in their perfect unconscious 
 ness of the evil abroad in the world. " Of such is 
 the Kingdom of Heaven."
 
 XXXIII 
 UNDER THE SHOULDER OF THE HILL 
 
 WHEN Harry Osbourn obeyed the overmas 
 tering vagrant impulse that had for months 
 tugged at his brain, and urged him to go 
 away, somewhere, anywhere, beyond the pale of his 
 home and friends, his good angel must have been 
 asleep. He had worked late at the office, two hours, 
 at least, after the rest had left and gone home for the 
 day, and night had crept on, a chill, rain-swept 
 night. As he stepped into the street, where the gas 
 lamp flickered fitfully over the slate colored, soaking 
 sidewalk, with the single strip of stone down the 
 centre, his feet squashed into mud and water, and a 
 sharp gale, turning the corner, whipped its sleety 
 points against his face. Fighting the wind, he stood 
 waiting for the car that went in the direction of his 
 own house. Three cars passed, going the other way. 
 When a fourth came, he stepped into it, with no 
 special aim beyond an automatic movement to get 
 under shelter. 
 
 " There s nobody at home. I won t be missed if I 
 don t go there yet," was his first thought. Little did 
 he dream that this was a suggestion of his evil genius, 
 that it meant the first step on a way that he had long 
 contemplated, toying with the idea, yet with no defi 
 nite intention of carrying it into action. After he 
 had written his queer letter to Eleanor, and had hid- 
 
 272
 
 UNDER THE HILL 273 
 
 den it away, he seemed to have crossed the danger 
 line, and from that time, for many weeks, the temp 
 tation had not troubled him. He had, in fact, for 
 gotten that letter as completely as if it had never 
 been written. The car stopped at a big, well-lighted, 
 railway station, its terminus, and Harry stepped out 
 with the other passengers. He went into the railway 
 restaurant and ordered a meal. Soup, meat, coffee, 
 were brought, and, being hungry, he ate heartily and 
 with enjoyment. As he finished, a man, whom he 
 did not recognize, came to the table, holding out his 
 hand. 
 
 " Captain Osbourn, as I live and breathe. If ever I 
 was glad to see any one on earth, old fellow, I m 
 glad to see you. Are you on the road ? I m going 
 on the north-bound train myself. I hope we re to be 
 fellow-travellers." 
 
 " I m going to Aldis, Major Bond," Harry heard his 
 own voice saying. " The window s open, I see. I ll 
 just get my ticket, and then I ll join you in a talk over 
 old times." 
 
 Comrades in the Civil War, sharers of its hardships 
 and perils, the two men had once been congenial 
 friends. Major Bond invited Harry to drink with 
 him. Harry declined, rather to the Major s wonder, 
 but the matter was not pressed. They boarded a 
 train together, and for fifty miles, talked as eagerly 
 and vehemently as if they had been boys instead of 
 middle-aged men, over the campaigns that were to 
 be history for the children of the next generation. 
 Major Bond bade his friend good-bye, when he 
 arrived at Aldis, and proceeded on his own journey, 
 which took him beyond daily papers and telegrams.
 
 274 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 Consequently, when Harry was chronicled as miss 
 ing the Major never knew it. At Aldis, Harry sought 
 a little inn he had frequented in boyhood, and asking 
 for a room, was shown up to one he remembered. 
 A maple-wood bedstead, with a billowy feather bed, 
 a washstand with white pitcher and basin, a rock 
 ing-chair and a straight backed chair, a looking- 
 glass, a small bureau, and a strip of home-made rag 
 carpet on the floor completed the simple furnishings. 
 The skimpy allowance of huckaback towels, and the 
 skimpy towels themselves, the hard white soap 
 streaked with red, the lamp with a bit of red worsted 
 in its clear bowl, winding serpent-wise amid the 
 kerosene, all were as familiar to him as the memories 
 of his boyhood. In such a room he had often slept 
 in younger days. He had once fancied such a room 
 rather grand than humble. In the morning, a loud 
 bell clanging through the halls wakened him, and he 
 dressed and descended to a smoking breakfast in the 
 country style, ham and fried eggs, buckwheat cakes, 
 coffee, with pie and doughnuts for those who wished 
 a more extensive bill of fare. The people in the 
 house were, as it happened, all men: some employed 
 in Aldis, others commercial travellers, going out with 
 their samples. One of the latter asked Harry what 
 his particular line was. 
 
 "I am travelling for pleasure," said Harry, and the 
 other looked at him with envy. 
 
 " Well," said he, " when a man has a wife and two 
 or three kids, he can t go far for pleasure. He s com 
 pelled to work. He can t often go anywhere just for 
 pleasure." 
 
 "No," agreed Harry, "he can t."
 
 UNDER THE HILL 275 
 
 Yet no thought of Eleanor or of Lee appealed to 
 him then. It was as if his mind were a surface from 
 which, for the time, their names had been washed. 
 He sauntered out, renewed acquaintance with old 
 landmarks, and, seeing on a door the name of a law 
 firm he had once known well, went in and called. 
 Here was the Aldis lawyer, who later went to Eleanor, 
 as he had gone earlier, to be the bearer of tidings. 
 Elbert Coles had known Harry s people, and was 
 glad to see Harry, though being acute by disposition 
 and training, he wondered at the vagueness of his 
 plans, and the absence of fixed purpose that his 
 words implied. Of mental aberration, Harry s bear 
 ing gave no sign. 
 
 The border-land between sanity and its opposite is 
 often nearer the mentally normal person than friends 
 imagine. A slight divergence from perfect health, a 
 protracted season of overwork, or sometimes a sud 
 den shock, may precipitate disease. That nature, 
 ever tending to cure her own hurts, often relieves and 
 soothes, and sends restoration, is another blessed fact. 
 Her winds breathe balm, her skies brood benignantly, 
 her woods and groves, her rivers and oceans, have 
 spells to weave in sweetness of remedial help, when 
 overstrained humanity is in need. The rush and 
 pressure of modern life are fearful, and at times we 
 all suffer because serenity and calm leisure are gone, 
 now that steam and electricity have abolished dis 
 tance, and done away with space limitations. In 
 deed, the real mystery is not that any one can be 
 discovered, but that any one can be successfully lost 
 in this day of revelation. A generation ago, agencies 
 for discovery were less numerous than now, but even
 
 276 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 then, they were multiplied, and it was a marvel, in 
 deed, that Harry Osbourn was not immediately found. 
 
 Leaving Aldis, he took a north-bound train, idly 
 still, not caring whither he went. Nightfall found 
 him in a nook of the mountains, and heedless of the 
 inconvenience of no luggage, he again sought shelter 
 in an obscure country tavern. A man s actual neces 
 sities are minimized when he becomes in a measure 
 indifferent to artificial wants, or luxuries, and this 
 man bought an extra shirt or two, an extra set of 
 underclothing, a pocket comb and a tooth brush, at 
 the village store, and was sufficiently equipped for 
 the time. He lingered here several days, paying his 
 bill at each day s end, and strolling aimlessly about, 
 or sleeping for hours as he pleased. Then, pene 
 trating farther into the wilderness, he asked, in the 
 guise of a travelling artist, for board at a farmhouse 
 under the shoulder of a great hill. The farmer and 
 his wife were incurious people, who were not averse 
 to taking in a guest with money to spare. They 
 asked no questions, and had no near neighbors who 
 might gossip. Harry stayed in their house for many 
 months, then left, wending his steps next to a small 
 village, nearer Islington, rather than farther from it, 
 though in an indirect line. He simply drifted on, 
 irresponsibly. 
 
 While under the hill s shadow, the man had vege 
 tated, rested, begun to be interested in the life about 
 him. One day he awakened and remembered, and 
 came to himself. That night, in an agony, he prayed 
 for Eleanor and little Lee. But he was ashamed to go 
 home. He counted his money. It was almost gone. 
 He decided to work his way back, somehow, to Is-
 
 UNDER THE HILL 277 
 
 lington, and, if need be, at the last, to walk back 
 there. But how could he ever meet Eleanor? He 
 was not yet wholly himself or he would not have 
 been afraid. In this strange and timorous mood, he 
 stopped at a village in the Adirondack foothills, and 
 engaged with a rural doctor to do chores, and drive 
 the horses, and be a general man of all work. In 
 this novel capacity of hired man he became extremely 
 useful, proving that a well-trained mind in any field 
 gives a man a great advantage over one who lacks 
 intellectual discipline. " Henry," as he was called 
 here, was a very treasure of hired men, but here he 
 aroused curiosity. The doctor s wife and daughter 
 were keenly aware that the new workman was a 
 gentleman, though he ate in the kitchen and slept in 
 the loft. 
 
 "I do hope, doctor," said the wife, "that Henry 
 won t turn out to be an escaped convict." 
 
 "Nonsense, Frances, don t be fanciful. Henry s a 
 plain American, a little down on his luck, that s all." 
 
 "He looks awfully sorrowful, father," said the 
 doctor s daughter. 
 
 "Please select a less lurid adverb, Irene. There s 
 nothing awful about Henry. I m only afraid he won t 
 stay long. For pity s sake, child, don t invest him 
 with a halo of romance. If he were not such a si 
 lent chap, I d find out more about him, but he doesn t 
 talk, and thus far, I don t even know his surname. 
 He has a knack with horses which is the principal 
 necessity in his present position." 
 
 The doctor went to his patients. Irene speculated 
 in vain.
 
 XXXIY 
 A HOMESICK HEART 
 
 HARD work is an antidote for many evils, but 
 it cannot cure the hurt of a homesick heart, 
 nor can it bring entire forgetfulness. In the 
 loft-chamber where Harry now slept, the family had 
 a custom of stowing away in piles and heaps, when 
 they became an embarrassment in the living rooms, 
 newspapers and periodicals, which they had read. 
 As a clever and wide-awake household, they took in 
 a good deal of printed matter, and there was a theory, 
 that Irene and her mother sent off the papers they 
 had finished reading, to the Salvation Army head 
 quarters, or the hospital, or the cousin in Kansas, or 
 the home missionary in Nebraska. About once a 
 year, after a sermon on the practical way of showing 
 love to the neighbor, they really did put up and mail 
 a good deal of their left over reading matter to those 
 who hailed it as a boon or a welcome diversion, but 
 they seldom kept regularly on. The result was that 
 sheaves of papers gathered dust in the library and 
 choked the sitting-room, until Irene, in despair, car 
 ried them up to the loft-chamber and bestowed them 
 in a dark corner. 
 
 During his country sojourn, Harry Osbourn had 
 read little. The hunger for books that had marked 
 his earlier life was then in abeyance. While toiling 
 as Dr. Mott s hired man, the old love for books re- 
 
 278
 
 A HOMESICK HEART 279 
 
 turned, as quietly as it had vanished, and asserted 
 itself imperiously. He could not well borrow vol 
 umes from the library, and in the kitchen the only 
 literature accessible consisted of an almanac, three 
 cookery books, and an old blue-backed Webster s 
 speller, which were hobnobbing in a friendly intimacy 
 on the shelf below the eight day clock. When 
 Harry Osbourn, poking under the rafters, came upon 
 the great piles of newspapers and magazines, he was 
 as happy as a miner who has found a vein of silver. 
 
 "Thank Heaven! " he ejaculated. " Here s some 
 thing to read! " 
 
 Of course, among the first paragraphs on which he 
 chanced, in the Islington Mail and Express of some 
 months ago, was a description of himself and an ad 
 vertisement; other papers revealed other advertise 
 ments, and he read, with a shaking hand and a sink 
 ing heart, of the efforts his people had made to dis 
 cover him and his whereabouts. The enormity of 
 his continued hiding, now that he was in a measure 
 Harry Osbourn, and not some masquerading stranger 
 in Harry s outward semblance was clearly forced upon 
 his consciousness. 
 
 " What in the world has my wife done all these 
 weary days and nights ? " he cried in utter abase 
 ment, grinding his teeth, and closing his hands till 
 they ached, and the nails almost cut the hardened 
 palms. 
 
 He fell on his knees, and, like the man in the par 
 able, smote his breast, crying, "God, be merciful to 
 me, a sinner! God bless Eleanor! God bless my 
 boy, my boy, and let me go home to them." 
 
 In pitiful anticlimax at the moment rang out Dr.
 
 280 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 Mott s "Hello, Henry, where are you? Come and 
 take my horse! " 
 
 That homesick heart could brook no more delay. 
 Henry finished his evening chores, tied up his bundle, 
 and gave the astonished employer an hour s notice. 
 
 " Man! " remonstrated the physician. "You are 
 mad. You can t leave me in this ridiculous way, 
 without the ghost of an idea where I ll find your suc 
 cessor. I shan t soon find your equal. Is it more 
 wages you want, my friend ? Name your terms." 
 
 " I reckon, doctor," said Harry, "that you ve paid 
 me full value for my services. I ve been satisfied. I 
 have been mad, I m afraid, but I m sane now, and 
 I m needed somewhere else. Doctor, don t hinder 
 me, for Christ s sake; I m going home where I 
 belong." 
 
 "Tell me who you are," said the doctor, fixing 
 piercing eyes on his face. 
 
 " Not now. I will tell you sometime." 
 
 " Are you a fugitive from the law ? " 
 
 " No, on my word of honor. I have been a fugi 
 tive from home, though, and I m going back." 
 
 "Then may God bless you!" said the doctor, 
 grasping the hand of his hired man in a hearty clasp. 
 
 At midnight Harry was on the train, that a day 
 later would land him in Islington. 
 
 He sat well back in a corner near one end of the 
 car, his heart thumping with excitement, as the ex 
 press thundered on, every swift revolution of the 
 wheels bringing him nearer the dear ones he had left. 
 Absorbed in his deep penitence, his eager wish to see 
 them again, he wasted no emotion in fear as to his 
 reception. Without words he was sure of forgive-
 
 A HOMESICK HEART 281 
 
 ness from those in the home, and as for others, he 
 had no care. What they might think was to him a 
 matter of little moment. It was a trifle singular that 
 he felt scarcely any remorse. To his own apprehen 
 sion, he had been the sport of circumstances, or of 
 caprice, and, equally it did not occur to him, that 
 what had once happened might happen again. Over 
 and over, he kept repeating under his breath in an 
 exultant tone, 
 
 " I m on the road home! I m on the road home! " 
 
 There was a crash. The locomotive jumped the 
 rails. Two forward cars lay on their sides. Passen 
 gers in the rear car, where Harry was, made their 
 way outdoors, unhurt, and directly it was known 
 that nobody on board was killed, though some were 
 bruised, and badly shaken, and the engineer, poor 
 fellow, was painfully scalded. Rain was falling in 
 torrents and cascades, reminding Harry of the night 
 when he left home. The whip of the rain in his 
 face, as he tramped through black mud to the station 
 brought vividly back that other night when he had 
 gone away. 
 
 "Oh! God! " he murmured, " hast Thou forgive 
 ness for a fool ? " For the first time he saw himself, 
 colossally, ignominiously, unpardonably, a fool, and 
 the extenuations of his physical condition at the time 
 faded away. He tottered into the station in the gray 
 dawn, overwhelmed with the revelation that the last 
 half hour had brought, not of his sinfulness, but of 
 his folly. 
 
 "What will Eleanor say?" he thought in bitter 
 self-reproach. 
 
 The train was delayed three hours. In his impa-
 
 282 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 tience they seemed to Harry Osbourn three weeks, 
 for now he was straining to reach his journey s end, 
 and could brook no delay. People paced up and 
 down, eager as himself; some, rendering thanks for 
 a great escape were patient; others, like Harry, were 
 counting the dragging minutes, that they might start 
 again, yet they might have been stranded in a worse 
 place. Here there were a good many alleviations.
 
 XXXY 
 
 WHAT: ELEANOR. SAID 
 
 THREE hours delay at a wayside station, 
 which was the terminal of several branch 
 roads, and past which great trains going 
 north to Canada and south to the Gulf flashed at 
 intervals all day long, was not quite so bad as might 
 have been the same length of waiting in a desert 
 place. Harry, feeling faint, at last refreshed himself 
 in the railway restaurant, ate a warm breakfast, and 
 then, in the most commonplace way possible bought 
 an early Islington paper, and sat down to read it. 
 
 Passengers were coming and going. Railway 
 guards in uniform stood here and there. Arriving 
 and departing trains were announced by stentorian 
 voices. Harry stopped to ascertain when his train 
 would start. 
 
 A tall woman in a dark rain-coat was walking up 
 and down the platform. She led a child by the hand. 
 An air of distinction about her, a certain familiar grace 
 in her walk, caught Harry s eye, and his heart stood 
 still. The instinct that saves the modern man from 
 making a scene, or becoming a spectacle, enabled 
 him to control himself, and, pale as death, he stood 
 braced against a post, till he had himself in hand. 
 
 Up and down, up and down, walked the lady, 
 careless of her surroundings, unheeding the eyes of 
 the lonely man, that devoured her with their glances. 
 
 283
 
 284 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 The station had gradually become deserted, the chill 
 of the morning driving most of the waiting pas 
 sengers into the large stove-heated rooms. Presently 
 the little fellow spoke. 
 
 "Mother, dear, let us go and sit down somewhere, 
 please! " 
 
 " In a minute, Lee. Not quite yet, darling! Mother 
 likes the air! " 
 
 Oh! the sweet ring of that soft voice, as the wait 
 ing man heard it. 
 
 Harry stepped up to the pair, hat in hand. Bare 
 headed, he waited for the princess to speak his sen 
 tence. Not stopping to think that his sudden ap 
 parition might upset her composure, and distress her 
 beyond her strength in a public place, not waiting 
 for anything, he barred her pathway. Little Lee 
 uttered a glad cry, "Papa, it s my papa. 1 
 
 " Eleanor! " 
 
 "Why, Harry!" she answered. "Why, Harry, 
 Are you coming home ? " 
 
 "Yes, Eleanor. May I ? " 
 
 She slipped her hand into his. 
 
 "Yes, Harry! "she said, but the loveligtit in her 
 eyes was as bright as sunshine breaking through 
 mist Yet nothing could have been more naturr.l 
 than this dramatic meeting. 
 
 Eleanor and her boy had been away on a visit to 
 some old acquaintances of the Lees. They had been 
 on the train with Harry, and the accident brought 
 them together. At noon, when the train pulled into 
 Islington, husband, wife and child alighted, and as 
 if he had never been absent, Harry Osbourn came 
 home.
 
 WHAT: ELEANOR SAID 285 
 
 The old comfort, the old cheer, the old elegance of 
 appointment in rooms and at the table, the rugs 
 so soft to the foot, the pictures on the walls, the 
 books, ah, the dear books in the library, nothing of 
 home was changed when the wanderer returned. 
 As formerly, white-capped maids went noiselessly 
 to and fro. As formerly, the household moved in 
 grooves so smooth, that there was no friction. Max 
 Pomfret, of a different and far less sensitive nature, 
 had gone from his world at his pleasure and returned 
 at his will, and later on Harry Osbourn recognized the 
 suggestion of his own going, as having sprung from 
 that unfortunate example, but Max, when he went 
 away, or came back, had been oblivious of any one s 
 position except his own. Harry Osbourn did not fit 
 as easily as he had fancied or without real suffering 
 into the place that had once been his. He imagined 
 that people stared at him, as indeed at first they did. 
 He was sure the servants discussed him below stairs, 
 which probably was the case. It required an im 
 mense amount of fortitude and courage for him to go 
 about again in Islington, and to receive kith and kin 
 and friends in his own home. If Eleanor had not 
 stood unflinchingly at his side, he must have broken 
 down. Never had she been Princess Eleanor more 
 truly than at this most trying period of her history. 
 
 What is done in this world can never be wholly 
 undone. The man who voluntarily severs the ties 
 that bind him to his own place, his own work, and 
 his own people, need never expect that he can rebind 
 them, and the knot show no roughness. The thing 
 is simply abhorrent to the order of nature and there 
 fore impossible. In Harry s absence, Eleanor had
 
 286 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 acquired an inevitable independence and a degree of 
 sufficiency to herself. She could stand lovingly at his 
 side, loyal, devoted and steadfast, but she could not 
 relinquish the right to do as she chose in small as in 
 great things, which had become hers by Harry s 
 voluntary act. She had formed certain habits of in 
 dependent decision and action which she could never 
 lose. That her husband had not been entirely re 
 sponsible only deepened in her the strain of mother 
 hood, which thereafter kept even pace with wifely 
 tenderness in her love for him all her days. 
 
 Little Lee became the father s comforter. The 
 child was companionable, a playmate, a delight, and 
 in his eyes Harry read no reproach. Do what he 
 could, and what she would, the shadow of an un 
 spoken reproach was in Eleanor s face. The whole 
 catastrophe had been so needless; it seemed mean 
 ingless, now that it was over, but it had left a scar. 
 
 Donald Waugh was among the first to call, and 
 contrary to Eleanor s fears, was genial and cordial. 
 Harry flushed and paled, as Donald s square gaze 
 rested on him, and he had a little shyness in taking 
 the big hand when it was extended in welcome. 
 That Donald asked no questions was a relief to both 
 Eleanor and Harry. As time passed, and there came 
 from him no intimation that Harry s old position was 
 again open to him, both husband and wife were 
 somewhat aggrieved. Here however Donald held 
 firmly aloof. 
 
 " I never take a rickety tool in my hand if 1 can 
 help it," he observed to Mattie. " I m done with that 
 one." 
 
 " I think you might concede something for Eleanor s
 
 WHAT: ELEANOR SAID 287 
 
 sake," said Mattie. " You have always tried to help 
 her through difficulties." 
 
 "Not for twenty Eleanors would I trust my busi 
 ness in Harry Osbourn s hands," said the man posi 
 tively. "Business and sentiment are not good 
 partners." 
 
 " Y et you made haste to employ Max Pomfret at a 
 similar time." 
 
 "I beg your pardon, my dear. The point is not 
 the same. Max is an inventor, a person apt to go off 
 at a tangent: emphatically not a man to tie to. Max 
 had neither wife nor child. Harry Osbourn was and 
 is the husband of a woman of whom any man might 
 be proud. He has treated her shamefully. If he 
 knew what he was about, there is no excuse for 
 him. If he did not there would be none for me, if I 
 risked important concerns in his care. I purpose to 
 look after Eleanor s affairs as faithfully as an old 
 friend may, but of Harry I wash my hands. Besides, 
 dear, don t call me hard, please, it will be better for 
 him to climb the hill again without anybody as a 
 staff to lean upon. Isn t this my little Lois coming 
 home from school ? Here, my precious, come and 
 let father love you." 
 
 There was no hardness in Donald s face when Lois 
 climbed upon his knee and laid her flower-face against 
 his cheek. 
 
 Donald Waugh was right. The spur that Harry 
 Osbourn was in need of was precisely this letting 
 alone, which made it evident that if he ever won back 
 his honorable place among men, he must do it by 
 stubborn doggedness. After a few weeks, he opened 
 a modest office on a corner of the main street, and
 
 288 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 picked up a practice scanty at first, which gradually 
 increased as men found him competent and faithful. 
 And daily, nightly, Eleanor surrounded him with 
 an atmosphere of ceaseless gentleness, and deathless 
 patience and wifely love.
 
 XXXVI 
 IRENE S DISCOVERY 
 
 POTHER! Mother! Come up here if you 
 can ! " 
 
 It was Irene Mott calling from the little 
 room in the loft which Henry had occupied. Irene 
 had gone up-stairs to see that it was in order, and 
 was tying up the newspapers and generally disposing 
 of the litter. One of this young woman s peculiari 
 ties was a love of reading, and the ruling passion 
 often caught her in the toils, just as it did Eleanor 
 Lee, just as it does every genuine lover of books. 
 Old newspapers, dusty and yellow, back numbers of 
 the magazines, and dingy volumes that had seen bet 
 ter days, were treasure trove to Irene, and she had 
 lingered long in the loft, beguiled, not so much by 
 the charm of news which was like the flow of water 
 that is past, as by the stories, jests, and odd adver 
 tisements, in the sheets she was putting away. 
 
 Mrs. Mott, stout and elderly, panted up the steep 
 ladder-like stairs. 
 
 " If you are not ill, Irene, you are very thoughtless," 
 she said with an injured air as she reached the top, 
 and looked in, rather exasperated at the sight of her 
 daughter on the floor, sitting at her ease in the mid 
 dle of a heap of what looked like rubbish, and beam 
 ing rosily over the spoils of this old trash. Mrs. 
 Mott decided to make a bonfire of the stuff. 
 
 289
 
 290 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 "I am sorry, mother. I should of course have 
 gone to you. But I was so taken by surprise! Who 
 do you suppose Henry is ?" 
 
 " Henry ? Why, he s Henry. I don t imagine him 
 a foreign count or a prince in disguise." 
 
 " He s the husband of Eleanor Lee, the man who 
 dropped down a hole, and never came up, oh ! months 
 ago, you surely remember ? " 
 
 "Dropped down a hole?" 
 
 "Don t be so literal, dearest. I mean he disap 
 peared strangely, and couldn t be traced, and we all 
 were so distressed. Well, I ve been reading these old 
 papers, and putting one thing beside another, and 
 now I know of a surety that our Henry is Harry Os- 
 bourn. I believe he s been reading too, and that read 
 ing about the thing restored him to his right mind, 
 or at least fastened the loose screw, and so he s gone 
 home. I shall telegraph to auntie in Islington this 
 very day, in order to set my own mind at rest. Isn t 
 it a little world, mother ? A little, little world, where 
 one is always meeting people one knows about in the 
 most unexpected places. Think of Harry Osbourn, 
 the brilliant advocate, the gallant soldier, the husband 
 of Eleanor, grooming father s horses!" 
 
 " Don t be sure, too soon, Irene." 
 
 "I won t, but I ll telegraph auntie." 
 
 As if to emphasize Irene s assurance that this world 
 of ours is a little place, for all its size, Dr. Mott 
 brought an old classmate home to dinner that day, no 
 less a person than Mr. Coles of Aldis. The doctor 
 often brought guests to the table without previous 
 notice, and the hospitality of the home was never 
 strained by their coming. His wife had frequently
 
 IRENE S DISCOVERT 291 
 
 heard of Mr. Coles, but this, as it happened, was her 
 first meeting with him. Mrs. Mott was quite upset 
 by Irene s suspicions, and had to lie down in her room 
 to stave off a nervous headache, before she could meet 
 her family. She heard her husband s hearty laugh 
 and the low tones of his friend in the office below 
 her, and wondered what the doctor would say when 
 he was told that a man fully their social equal had 
 been eating in their kitchen. Irene came in with hot 
 water to bathe her mother s face and the back of her 
 neck. 
 
 "But, mother," she said coaxingly, "it wasn t 
 your fault, nor ours; the man was evidently mentally 
 a little astray. He didn t mind. I ve no doubt it will 
 all be right. Nobody can reflect on us. We had 
 never had a peep at the poor fellow, so how could we 
 suspect ? " 
 
 Somewhat consoled, Mrs. Mott took her seat at her 
 end of the dinner table. At the meal the talk turned 
 on Irene s probable discovery. Mr. Coles considered 
 that she had excellent grounds for her conclusion. 
 He narrated what he had known of Judge Lee and 
 his family, relating the story of the two occasions 
 when he had met Eleanor, and describing Captain 
 Osbourn minutely. 
 
 "How happens it that you know the Lees?" he 
 inquired. 
 
 "Mrs. Lee and I were girls together at school, and 
 we have been intimate friends all our lives," said 
 Mrs. Mott. " My children call her auntie, though 
 there is no real relationship, and hers address me in 
 the same manner. Had Henry ever been in my room 
 he would have seen his wife s picture on my dressing-
 
 292 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 table. Indeed, though Eleanor has not been here for 
 a long while, I had spoken to Irene of inviting her for 
 a visit to divert her from her troubles. We were 
 trying to arrange for it." 
 
 About the same hour, Eleanor learned in a talk with 
 Harry, what he had been doing when away from her. 
 She was speechless, so incredible it seemed that at 
 any time during the last few weeks, she might have 
 walked in upon the Motts, and have recognized her 
 husband in their man of all work. 
 
 " You are not ashamed ? You do not feel that this 
 has disgraced me beyond rehabilitation ? " Harry asked 
 anxiously. 
 
 Eleanor smiled. 
 
 "Honest work can degrade nobody; you should 
 know how I feel about that, dear. Only I wish Dr. 
 Mott had known who you were. 1 could have had 
 you at home so much sooner." 
 
 Eleanor had her small tilts with her mother. Mrs. 
 Lee predicted that Harry could never regain anything 
 of the intellectual power he had temporarily lost. 
 She persisted in taking the gloomiest possible views, 
 and when her friends spoke of her son-in-law, she 
 shook her head. Nevertheless, she was mistaken. A 
 new manhood invested him, and he had laid down 
 forever a childish petulance and nervous weakness 
 which had been his handicaps. Little by little he was 
 climbing up, losing no foothold he gained, and con 
 quering a place for himself in the community, a place 
 securer and more worthy than he had ever possessed. 
 
 The prevalent opinion that in no circumstances 
 may a man ever trample upon his past, and make it 
 a stepping-stone to a better and nobler future, was
 
 IRENE S DISCOVERT 293 
 
 contradicted in the experience of Harry Osbourn. 
 His wife held him to his best, not as formerly, by a 
 studious and anxious endeavor to yield to his every 
 caprice and to consult his every passing wish, but by 
 going on her own way, at his side, filling her days 
 with endeavor as important as his, and living her life 
 in womanly beauty and strength as his comrade, not 
 merely as his nurse and housekeeper, and the orna 
 ment of his life. Home was for Eleanor, in these 
 days, a background where of old it had been only a 
 battle-ground. 
 
 " You have kept on with all your work, you are 
 again in your club, you have your Bible class as regu 
 larly as possible, you are full of outside interests," 
 commented Mattie Waugh, "but it does not appear 
 to hurt your home life, Eleanor. I should say, as an 
 observer, that it was making it richer and fuller, and 
 1 do believe, though it contradicts my theories, that it 
 is good for your husband." 
 
 "Mattie," Eleanor s face was alight with the in 
 tensity of her feeling, "I am contradicting my own 
 theories. I have tried to be purely the domestic 
 woman, but I am not fitted for her role. To be inter 
 esting I must be interested, and as I cannot squeeze 
 my bushel into the pint measure of the woman who 
 keeps house and does nothing else, I am dull and 
 bored, and 1 bore others, when I am false to myself. 
 I have faithfully tried two courses. The present 
 course, which gives me room for expansion, which 
 calls my powers into action, makes me a better wife 
 to Harry and a better mother to Lee." 
 
 "Donald is afraid you are going back on what he 
 calls the simplicity of womanhood. He rather de~
 
 294 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 plores a change he sees in you, Eleanor. You know 
 how he clings to the old ideals." 
 
 "So do I," retorted Eleanor. "I have not de 
 serted my ideals. One would fancy I had done some 
 astonishing, unprecedented thing, in trying to live my 
 life as the Lord gives it to me. You see how it suits 
 my husband. Did you ever see him looking half so 
 well ? But 1 can t expect Donald to understand." 
 
 Mattie drew herself up with some offense. Pride 
 was always rather droll when shown by the little 
 partridge of a woman who was so meek a mate to 
 her rugged spouse. She had grown ample and stout 
 with the years, but she ruffled up her feathers, as she 
 said hastily, 
 
 "You never in your life understood my Donald, 
 and you never will, but there isn t a man in Islington 
 that I think fit to tie the latchet of his shoe." 
 
 "Pardon me, Mattie. I did not mean to be disre 
 spectful. Everybody knows the solid goodness of 
 Donald Waugh." 
 
 Mattie was conciliated. She had matured into one of 
 the easy-going, amiable women who have few angles, 
 and are as reposeful as pillows to those with whom 
 they live. An ingrained loyalty to her traditions, a 
 habit of adopting her husband s ideas about every 
 thing from politics to parasols, and a sort of soft ob 
 stinacy about trifles, had deepened and grown in 
 Mattie, until she was impervious to new notions of 
 any kind. Mattie s gentle insistence upon trifles was 
 at times disconcerting; she was not exactly Donald s 
 echo, but she gave him a continual worship which 
 was delightful to his vanity, and was accepted as his 
 due by the good man, who still, with a little incon-
 
 IRENE S DISCOVERT 295 
 
 sistency, looked down upon Mattie s intellect. Lois 
 would stir things up yet in the still pool of the 
 Waughs domesticity, but that period was fortunately 
 far off. She was now a thin, impulsive, intense 
 child, who had outgrown her baby prettiness, and 
 was awkward and clumsy. She loved her mother, 
 adored her father, and thought her little playmate, 
 Lee, the dearest thing in the world. When she had 
 a childish trouble, she carried it, not to her own 
 mother, but to Lee s. For the explanation of this, it 
 must be said that Eleanor Osbourn, out of the strange 
 sufferings and deep joys of her life, had learned to 
 sympathize with people, as only they can, who know 
 human nature, and understand it in a good many dif 
 ferent phases. Little children ran to her, and she 
 petted or soothed them, never too busy for their small 
 confidences. Young people brought her their love 
 affairs, and she gave counsel, or helped adjust misap 
 prehension, as if she were as young as the youngest. 
 Old people called her their darling, and brightened if 
 she entered their doors. She had a magnetism that 
 was wonderfully captivating. To her mother, she 
 was more than ever the girl she used to be at home, 
 yet she brooded over her mother as if their relations 
 were reversed. 
 
 " The most popular and beloved woman in Isling 
 ton," said a man one evening, as a little party of 
 friends left the Osbourns home. Husband and wife 
 had stood together in the drawing-room door, bid 
 ding their guests good-night. 
 
 " 1 believe Harry Osbourn s worthy of her, at last," 
 was the thoughtful verdict of the man s companion. 
 " He didn t use to be, but he is now."
 
 296 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 " Then love has wrought the miracle, her love." 
 
 In the house they had left, Harry was turning down 
 the lights, and bolting the doors for the night. Elea 
 nor, weary, was waiting for him in the library. She 
 sat in an armchair, her black velvet gown falling in 
 rich folds on the carpet, a fluff of white lace cover 
 ing her throat. Harry came in and stood by the 
 hearth, looking down at her. The lights were out, 
 all except one that burned just over Eleanor s head. 
 There was pride touched with pain in the man s face 
 as he gazed. 
 
 "Dearest," he said, "how you carry all before 
 you! How people worship you! I am afraid some 
 times, afraid I ll wear out your great patience, that 
 you won t always love me." 
 
 "Have I not always loved you?" she answered. 
 " My love is not a thing to ebb and flow. It is yours 
 forever. But don t be worried, dear, I never began 
 to love you when we were mere children in the old 
 war-times, as I love you now." 
 
 They sat together, talking till the clock struck, 
 warning them that it was late. As they went up 
 stairs, they stopped at the nursery, to look at their 
 sturdy boy in his healthy sleep, and as they each 
 stooped to kiss his forehead, lightly not to disturb 
 him, they were drawn closer to one another. A child 
 is love s strongest link. 
 
 "I ll try, please God, never to give you one mo 
 ment s pain again," said Harry as they turned away 
 from the little bed.
 
 XXXVll 
 HARRY S NEW ROLE 
 
 SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS is the most hampering 
 condition known to mortal man. He who can 
 cast off its bonds, enters into a realm of 
 enviable freedom. So long as one thinks of the im 
 pression he or she is making, so long as one is aware 
 of criticism in some eye, or deprecation in some 
 gesture, or boredom in some attitude, the handicap is 
 fatal to success. One must be free from the domin 
 ion of the observer to do one s best work. 
 
 An intense self-consciousness had been Harry 
 Osbourn s bane, ever since, leaving Clivedon, he 
 had lived and wrought in Islington. The story of 
 his past, ever present in his memory, was blazed he 
 fancied, in his countenance, and an exaggerated 
 diffidence kept him in the background, whenever 
 there was a call for him outside of business or his 
 home. When he resumed his life, after the interval 
 which grew more and more hazy and dim in his recol 
 lection, as hazy as the memory of a dream in the 
 bright waking daylight, he dropped the burden that 
 had weighed him down. Not more entirely did 
 Christian drop his burden at the foot of the cross. 
 For Harry literally, old things had passed away. All 
 things had become new. The change was radical, 
 and he could not explain it, nor could Eleanor, yet 
 both felt it, knew it, and were aware of an extraor- 
 
 297
 
 298 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 dinary relief from tension, and an immense reaction 
 from care. 
 
 Doctor and Mrs. Abbott came from Virginia for a 
 holiday and were guests at the Osbourn home for a 
 fortnight. Dear old Mrs. Abbott was not surprised 
 at the peace she found regnant in her friends and at 
 their renewed youthfulness of feeling. 
 
 "I expected this," she said. "I ve been praying 
 for it." 
 
 "Do you always feel that your prayers are an 
 swered, lady?" said Eleanor. "Lady" was a pet 
 name she liked to give the little woman with the 
 silver hair, the woman who was the good angel of 
 many hearts. 
 
 "I know they never miss an audience, my dear, 
 and therefore I am sure they are always answered. 
 Not always in the way I hope for, of course, but al 
 ways as God wills, which is better by far. Still I do 
 believe that when we ask for right things, unselfishly, 
 we may hope to have them granted. God is not less 
 kind than earthly parents and they love to give good 
 gifts to their children." 
 
 " I wish every one felt as you do, dear Mrs. Abbott. 
 But you don t know how many good people explain 
 away the whole reality of prayer as an effective 
 power in their lives. They think it wrong to pray 
 for God s help in the daily course. One dear woman 
 said to me yesterday that she would not think of 
 going to God like a beggar with her little cares nor 
 could she expect Him to be bothered with her 
 troubles. Thousands of Christians are very vague in 
 their realization of God as a friend." 
 
 The trouble is, dear, they don t take the plain
 
 HARRY S NEW ROLE 299 
 
 Bible and believe every word of it. If God tells me 
 to commit my life into His hands, I commit it, and 
 leave it, and He ll never disappoint my expectation." 
 
 Into the blessedness of this conclusion Eleanor had 
 lately entered. A deepening spirituality characterized 
 her as she went on, holding fast to an invisible hand. 
 Far more than had ever been her experience in 
 earlier days, she grew in the knowledge that all life 
 is under God s guiding care, and that even in the little 
 things, one may confidently seek God s daily leading. 
 
 "The most unworldly woman I know," remarked 
 one of her friends. 
 
 "Say rather the most other-worldly," was the 
 reply of the one addressed. 
 
 Mrs. Lee, her eyes now quite sightless, was very 
 dependent upon her daughters for entertainment and 
 attention, but she bore the eclipse with wonderful 
 patience. She was the abler to do this, that she 
 waited for the moment when the little, swift click 
 of the surgeon s knife should remove the cataract, 
 and restore her vision. Meanwhile everybody waited 
 on her, and the children, Lois Waugh and little Lee, 
 were delighted to do her errands. A peculiar 
 serenity ensphered the blind lady, and her friends 
 spoke of it, as remarkable. Yet similar gentle bear 
 ing of their affliction is common among the blind, 
 who, though they dwell in darkness so far as the 
 outer world is concerned, would seem to have their 
 own beautiful inner sight of the soul, almost living a 
 dual life. 
 
 Donald Waugh made a point of calling on Mrs. 
 Lee, every afternoon on his way from business. The 
 bluff, breezy man, domineering as of old, was a
 
 300 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 staunch friend, and there was no arrogance nor self- 
 assertion in his manner when talking with the 
 woman whom he had reverenced from his boyhood. 
 He told her all the news of the day, cheered her by 
 his robust sincerity and did her good, without an 
 effort. Donald did not mind going out of his way 
 to make this daily visit, for he could hardly remem 
 ber the time when the Lees house had not been to 
 him as a shrine. His wife said with truth that it was 
 Donald s idea of a sanctuary. 
 
 "You know," he said one day, "that I ve just 
 found out what a preposterous fellow I ve been all 
 my life. Really, Mrs. Lee, it has only dawned on me 
 lately." 
 
 Mrs. Lee laughed. 
 
 "Preposterous is hardly the word, Donald. But 
 what has aroused this strange conviction ?" 
 
 " Looking at Harry Osbourn. I thought and dared 
 to say that his usefulness was over, that he would 
 never have influence again, or command respect. 
 I ve been kind to him for Eleanor s sake. The fact 
 is, I did not measure the man rightly. He has taken 
 hold of life with splendid heroism at last, and is 
 doing magnificent work, down in the Hollow, among 
 my people, all so quietly and so effectively too. I 
 would not have believed it possible, if I had not seen 
 it. Rachel told me there was stuff in Harry Osbourn, 
 but " 
 
 " But," repeated Mrs. Lee, "he s been a good while 
 showing it. You and I, Donald, felt exactly alike. 
 There isn t a greater trial for a mother than to see her 
 daughter suffer as Eleanor has suffered, and to be 
 powerless to lift a feather s weight of the load. This
 
 HARRT S NEW ROLE 301 
 
 has been my case and I ve been dreadfully rebellious. 
 You are making me very happy by speaking as you 
 do. Tell me specifically what has pleased you so 
 much." 
 
 " Well, it s not easy to specify. Harry has been 
 standing by his wife in all her plans, as indeed hes 
 ought, since he came back to her, and he s been act 
 ing in the most brotherly way among the men. He ia. 
 very sympathetic, and now that he loves and under 
 stands them, they listen when he talks, and Rachel 
 says the hall is not big enough to accommodate the 
 men who come to hear him. He is making a good 
 fight against the saloons, not by abuse, or by phillip- 
 ics, but by offering the men a better ideal of fellow 
 ship. He s done already more good in Old Field 
 Hollow than 1 would have thought possible a year 
 ago, and under his leadership, a band of volunteers, 
 university men, and men from our best families, are 
 organizing for hand to hand work in every ward in 
 the city. Harry Osbourn has arrived at his best, and 
 no thanks to me! " 
 
 " I am very sure that you did him a good turn in 
 letting him alone. You are a bit overpowering some 
 times, and you may have unintentionally robbed him 
 of a certain freedom." 
 
 " I think not quite as you do, dear mother," inter 
 rupted Kathleen Deland, who had hitherto been a 
 silent listener. "Up to this time Harry was not 
 ready for such work as he is doing now. God has 
 His own ways, don t you think, and He s made him 
 fit, by a discipline that was hard while it lasted." 
 
 " A discipline that might have killed my Eleanor," 
 said Mrs. Lee.
 
 302 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 " Oh, but it did not. Eleanor was never so fine as 
 she is now. She is as happy as a woman can pos 
 sibly be." 
 
 Donald took his hat. 
 
 "Well, I must be going," he said. "The little 
 girl watches from the window, and she runs to meet 
 me. I d like to be sure that she ll have a smooth time 
 of it all along. To think of Lois ever having to suf 
 fer breaks me up." 
 
 " Don t let it," said Mrs. Lee. " Am I to tell you 
 to live by the day ? Now that I think of it, I once 
 met an old woman, eighty she was, who boasted 
 that she had never known a sorrow, nor a pain, nor 
 a grief. She looked no younger than her years, and 
 she had missed some of the great joys in missing the 
 sorrows. Donald, we must not wish our loved ones 
 to escape the common lot." 
 
 " 1 suppose it is rather weak," he smiled, as he 
 stood in her door, " but then, I d like to make an ex 
 ception of Lois. My comfort is she s got a little iron 
 in her. She ll not be weak." 
 
 Kathleen looked after him, laughing as he hurried 
 to catch the car at the corner. 
 
 "Is Donald looking well?" asked her mother 
 anxiously. 
 
 " Why, yes, dear. I see nothing amiss." 
 
 " It s not like Donald to be so lowly in heart." 
 
 " Probably it s a passing phase," observed Kath 
 leen. " He s not ready for ascension robes yet, 
 mother. He still refuses to wear any shirts that are 
 not made stitch by stitch, by Mattie s fingers. Is it 
 not absurd ? " 
 
 "It is indeed, but it s rather characteristic, never-
 
 HARRT S NEW ROLE 303 
 
 theless. I don t want to spare Donald. Under the 
 prickles he has a warm heart." 
 
 Kathleen paused before she spoke again. 
 
 "The one who is really overworking, and who 
 may fly away when we want her most, is Miss 
 Rachel. That Hall of Rest is anything but a resting 
 place for her. She looks pale and tired out, and not 
 a soul takes notice." 
 
 Mrs. Lee was all interest. "Then she must be 
 looked after. Kathleen, go down to-morrow morn 
 ing and bring Miss Rachel to luncheon with me. 
 When the alabaster box is broken to bathe the Mas 
 ter s feet, it s all right, but when it s only spent to 
 save other people work, there s something wrong. 
 Somebody must be found to relieve Rachel Waugh." 
 
 " That s precisely what Harry told Eleanor and me 
 yesterday. There s too much confusion in that place, 
 too much that wears on the nerves for a woman 
 approaching seventy to endure safely. Though no 
 body thinks of Miss Rachel as old! She s so young 
 in heart! " 
 
 "You say that Harry has sounded a note of 
 warning ? " 
 
 "Yes, mother. Harry sees everything in these 
 days. He is not the same man at all. Nobody need 
 patronize him now, and nobody doubts him. It s 
 little short of a miracle." 
 
 "One of the Master s -miracles," answered the 
 mother reverently, leaning her head upon her hand. 
 "The Christ is blessedly near His own, now as of 
 old. The same dear Saviour, ever strong, ever lov 
 ing." 
 
 She was right.
 
 304 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 We often speak as though miracles were wrought 
 only when Jesus walked in Galilee. The truth is our 
 Lord is always working them, but we are dull of 
 heart and eye, and do not see or know. There can 
 never be a miracle greater than the change wrought 
 when a man is truly converted and therefore truly 
 ennobled.
 
 xxxvui 
 
 VISITORS AND PREMONITIONS 
 
 ELEANOR S correct housemaid in her trim print 
 gown, white apron with shoulder straps and 
 big bow, and the dainty little frilled cap on her 
 head, tapped at the door of the morning-room. Lee 
 had gone to the kindergarten which was the delight 
 of his life, Mr. Osbourn was at his office, and Elea 
 nor was busy with her correspondence. It was early 
 for callers, but she heard voices in the hall, as she 
 bade Nancy come in. 
 
 " Please, Mrs. Osbourn, here are some people who 
 won t go round to the kitchen door. I told them 
 to." 
 
 Great scorn was written on Nancy s face. 
 
 " Cose not. I done seed my Miss Eleanor a settin 
 by de window, so I se come straight in. Honey, 
 deah honey, how is yo ?" 
 
 To Nancy s horror, the stout old black woman who 
 now rushed past her, threw both arms around Mrs. 
 Osbourn, hugging and crying over her, and Eleanor 
 returned the embrace. 
 
 " Dear Aunt Polly! where did you drop from ?" 
 
 "I se come Norf to work and earn money. I se 
 brought my Ada; she was the youngest when you 
 lef Cliveden; a triflin chile then, but mighty handy 
 now, Miss Eleanor. We ve done come straight hyar. 
 
 305
 
 306 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 Cliveden s good, but de Norf s better, and we all 
 made up our minds to come Norf. My ole man and 
 de rest of dem 11 come after I m settled." 
 
 Eleanor was rather puzzled what to do with good 
 Aunt Polly. She had been the best of servants in 
 the South, but was not likely to know the regular 
 work demanded in an orderly Northern home. Elea 
 nor could not keep her in her own house. Her staff 
 would leave on the instant if she did. However, 
 Aunt Polly, her plump person filling up one of the 
 rockers and Ada sitting on the floor, their bags and 
 bundles around them, had no fears. The old colored 
 woman had never lost her entire faith in this beloved 
 mistress, and as years and poverty had tried her, she 
 had decided to be her family s pioneer, and precede 
 the rest of them North. 
 
 Kathleen settled the problem. She laughed till she 
 cried when she saw Aunt Polly. 
 
 "Of course you ll get on here," she said. "You 
 can come straight home with me. We haven t a 
 maid in the house, and Ada can run errands and 
 wait on mother. Aunt Polly, an angel from heaven 
 wouldn t be more welcome to us to-day." 
 
 The old Lee homestead was big enough to accom 
 modate all sorts of arrangements, and in the attic, a 
 room was speedily prepared for Aunt Polly and Ada. 
 Mrs. Lee did not object to the soft-voiced, swift- 
 footed little maid, who liked to wait on the helpless 
 lady, and Kathleen was independent on the servant- 
 question for awhile. 
 
 Factories were competing with households in 
 Islington, and the young girls who had once been 
 relied on to aid housekeepers were working at the
 
 PREMONITIONS 307 
 
 loom, or in the paper-mill. That the monotonous 
 drudgery of the mill, where a girl must stand for 
 many consecutive hours, doing the same thing over 
 and over and over, in a hot, ill-ventilated room, to 
 the whirring noise of machinery, keeping on hour by 
 hour, should be preferred to the variety offered in the 
 home, is very hard to comprehend. The girl who 
 prizes her independence, however, often votes for the 
 toil of the factory and likes it better than the lighter 
 toil of a domestic s life. 
 
 Kathleen had been having trouble in retaining good 
 help, so she welcomed Aunt Polly with joy. Pres 
 ently she began inviting her friends to luncheons 
 where she regaled them with such fried chicken, 
 hot biscuits and ice cream, as northern cooks can 
 not evolve from the best materials and the finest re 
 ceipts. Aunt Polly s pound-cake and her light bread 
 were the admiration of Kathleen s friends. Before 
 long other flustered and discouraged house wives 
 sent South for help, and Aunt Polly had her wish. 
 Her family were about her. She then hired a little 
 house, and instead of living at Mrs. Deland s, went 
 home every night, and felt no pangs of absence 
 drawing her back to Cliveden. In her blue-checked 
 dress, white apron, gay turban, and stout shoes, she 
 was a picturesque figure as she tramped to and fro, 
 in Islington streets, often "toting" Mrs. Dela nd s 
 marketing safely on her old head, that was set so 
 well on her broad shoulders. 
 
 Miss Rachel Waugh took a great fancy to Aunt 
 Polly. It had been easy to persuade this lady to 
 leave the Hall, for she realized that she was no 
 longer fit for it and its incessant motion and drain
 
 308 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 on her sympathy. As her own home had a tenant 
 with an unexpired lease, she visited friends for 
 awhile, giving a part of her leisure to Eleanor, an 
 other part to Mrs. Lee, and a good share of her time 
 to Donald and Mattie. The latter begged her to 
 make her permanent home with them, but she re 
 fused. 
 
 "I cannot see my way clearly to such a step," she 
 said. "We Waughs are too pronounced to fit into 
 the homes of our relatives. You wouldn t want me 
 long, Mattie. I ll just stay until I can get into my 
 own house. Meanwhile, what ails Donald?" 
 
 "Nothing that I ve noticed," said Mattie. 
 
 "He s not looking like himself, is he? We have 
 a habit in our family of going to pieces all at once. 
 We keep on working our full time and suddenly we 
 break. If Donald doesn t stop and rest, that is what 
 will happen to him." 
 
 Mattie was aghast. She was so accustomed to 
 think of Donald as invincible, that the bare notion of 
 illness or disaster in his case, drove her to panic. 
 What should she do, if anything happened to her 
 husband? What could she do, if there was any 
 danger? Gibraltar was not harder to move than 
 Donald Waugh. 
 
 " If you only were not so very well yourself," said 
 Miss Rachel, whimsically, "you might coax him to 
 take you to Europe. But that plan would fall 
 through, wouldn t it?" 
 
 "I ll persuade my father," said little Lois firmly, 
 and with the true Waugh decision. " I ll persuade 
 him to-night. Then we ll all go. I want to see Scot 
 land and Switzerland and Italy. I ought to travel for
 
 PREMONITIONS 309 
 
 my education," said the small girl, who was now 
 struggling with her first Latin declensions. 
 
 Donald had theories of his own, about the educa 
 tion of Lois, and she heard a good deal said about it 
 when her elders did not notice her presence. Mattie 
 would like to have sent her daughter by graded steps 
 from the kindergarten, straight through to the college 
 for women, then an experiment. Mr. Waugh did 
 not especially care to have her tied down to any 
 school routine. Masters in the house, and a resident 
 governess fitted into his scheme for his idol, and, as 
 usual, he had his way. Lois, once emancipated from 
 her kindergarten, which her father tolerated as a 
 playing at school, was not permitted to enter any 
 other institute. Eleanor Osbourn had been largely 
 educated at home and she warmly championed Don 
 ald s ideas. Mattie disapproved, but was content on 
 the whole to let her good man rule in the realm of 
 their daughter s training. 
 
 "Be careful, Nellie," advised Kathleen, "how you 
 comment too freely on those queer notions of Donald 
 Waugh s about Lois. Mattie may think you have 
 inspired them." 
 
 "I haven t." 
 
 "I know you haven t, but Mattie might not un 
 reasonably think you had, and it wouldn t be well to 
 arouse her antagonism." 
 
 " Probably with his usual tact Donald holds me up 
 as a shining example. Thanks for the warning. I ll 
 be silent hereafter. >r 
 
 Behold Lois, with a huge atlas in her hand, stand 
 ing at her father s side, as he sat by the table after 
 dinner, reading his evening paper.
 
 310 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 "Is this you, Pussy?" he asked, laying down the 
 finance sheet with its long rows of prices and quota 
 tions. 
 
 He lifted her to his knee. The big hand stroked 
 her dark red curls. 
 
 " Lois, you are too big a girl to sit in your father s 
 lap." 
 
 "Tell mother, you wouldn t be too big if you 
 were twenty. Papa s sunbeam!" A world of love 
 lay in the glance he bent on his idol. 
 
 "Father," said the child, "please look over the 
 map with me. We all want to go to Europe, and 
 I want you to take us. I want to see the places. 1 
 want to go to the place Grandfather Waugh came 
 from, before the Waughs went to Ulster, in Ireland; 
 the Scottish place, father." 
 
 "I see that Aunty Rachel has been talking to you, 
 dear. Father d like to take you across the sea, but 
 he s too busy. Far too busy." 
 
 Lois did not speak, but she looked sorry. Her lit 
 tle sensitive face clouded over, and she bit her lips to 
 keep from crying. She traced with her finger the 
 points on the map, points she had been dreaming 
 about all day. Then she turned and gazed at the big 
 man gravely. Tears stood in her eyes. 
 
 "Father, it would help my education ever so 
 much," she said. 
 
 He gave one of his big hearty laughs. Mattie 
 smiled to hear him. Latterly, he had not laughed 
 much. 
 
 "I ll take you, daughter; you and mother and 
 Aunty Rachel." 
 
 Turning to his wife he said, " It s odd, Mattie. I
 
 PREMONITIONS 3 1 1 
 
 met Dr. Baxter by accident to-day, and he said I 
 must have a vacation. I ve been rather tired out 
 lately, and I told him so. This very trip Lois has 
 suggested, is his prescription." 
 
 They went away and were gone nearly a year. 
 Lois was glad in the days of her grown-up life that 
 she had coaxed her father to cross the ocean and have 
 that beautiful trip with her and the others. For he 
 came home, better indeed, but not well, and long be 
 fore Lois had received her school education, it was 
 to her father, a matter of little moment whether she 
 went to college or stayed at home. 
 
 But in the years of invalidism that finally were 
 Donald Waugh s portion, he grew wonderfully gen 
 tle. One who had known him chiefly in the hard 
 aggressiveness of his earlier days, would not have 
 recognized him as he was gradually mellowed by 
 suffering and softened by enforced retirement from 
 the old activities. Not fretting against necessity as a 
 weaker nature would have done, he accepted what 
 was laid upon him to bear, and looked about for 
 pleasant ways of passing the time. As a Christian, 
 Donald had belonged in the ranks of the militant; he 
 had never been noted for the passive virtues, but as 
 feebler health came upon him he went to school to 
 the Master whose beatitudes are all for the meek and 
 lowly, for the peacemaker and the persecuted and for 
 the pure in heart. 
 
 His daughter, like him in many peculiarities of 
 temperament and character, was the gainer by these 
 changed qualities in her father, whose comrade she 
 was. She too, and sooner than he, had many natural 
 features of her disposition modified, and as for Don-
 
 312 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 aid, old friends after a time would not have known 
 him for the same man. The arrogance was gone, 
 and with it the note of domination. He grew rather 
 silent than talkative, easily entreated as the Bible puts 
 it, and fond of simple pleasures. Leaving much of 
 the general management of affairs to Mattie, he gave 
 away money freely where she advised it, and for 
 months together was contented to potter about the 
 garden, wear old clothes, and read over for the hun 
 dredth time the one or two books he loved, the 
 Bible never tiring him. The visit to Europe was the 
 last stage of Dqnald Waugh s active life, though he 
 lived to be a very old man. When Lois, taking her 
 education into her own hands, had made herself one 
 of the most thoroughly equipped young women of the 
 day, her mother opposed her going daily to the mills, 
 and entering upon business life, as if she had been a 
 man. It was a new departure then, but it suited Lois 
 Waugh, and she carried on buying and selling, fac 
 tory work and philanthropy, as energetically as her 
 father had. Often he sat at her side, as she drove 
 about, and whether he was silent or, as sometimes 
 happened, expansive, with flashes of his old orator 
 ical eloquence, Donald Waugh was supremely con 
 tented if Lois were his companion. 
 
 The loyal little mother who did not fully under 
 stand either husband or child, loved and adored both, 
 and she too was content. 
 
 So the years drifted on, apparently with few start 
 ling events or marked episodes, only the ordinary 
 and commonplace diversifying their course. Lee 
 Osbourn developing studious tastes, went to college 
 and was graduated with honors. His father became
 
 PREMONiriONS 313 
 
 an influential citizen, taking a hand in municipal 
 government, and little by little reaching a position of 
 leadership. To Lee, who had been a very small 
 child in the days when his father had been weak 
 and erratic, Mr. Osbourn represented all that was fine 
 and noble in manhood, and the bond between father 
 and son was one of the most reciprocal confidence. 
 Among the pleasant homes of Islington none was 
 pleasanter than theirs. Musical people brought to it 
 their best, for though Eleanor s own talent was not 
 remarkable, she could appreciate the gifts of others, 
 and she took pains to draw out and cultivate genius 
 in young aspirants wherever she saw an indication 
 of uncommon powers. 
 
 Her son was somewhat susceptible, and had his 
 little excursions into the land of dreams and hopes, 
 but though now he admired a girl with a charming 
 face, and again was impressed by another with an 
 exquisite voice, these attractions were soon over, 
 and he remained faithful to one ideal, that was em 
 bodied in her who had been his childish playmate 
 and his youthful chum. Lois Waugh was the only 
 true sweetheart Lee Osbourn ever had, and in later 
 days neither could remember when first they recog 
 nized their affection as the love that lasts.
 
 XXXIX 
 FULFILLMENTS 
 
 ONWARD swept the ceaseless procession of 
 the years. In their wake inevitably came 
 love s rich fulfillments, and life s harvestings. 
 It is the fashion in books to break off the skein and 
 leave tangled twists and rough ends, as though 
 stories might never finish happily and disappoint 
 ments were the culmination of every human ex 
 perience. Yet the romances that blend into realities 
 are seldom wholly sad-colored, and it is true in most 
 human lives, as it is promised in the great Book that 
 it shall be, that at eventime there shaH be light. 
 
 Late afternoon, golden with sunshine, lay upon an 
 old house wherein was a library filled with the treas 
 ured spoils of men who had loved books and bought 
 them, through successive generations. The room 
 was sweet with flower-scents and touched as rooms 
 are with the subtle personality of the gracious people 
 who had lived and worked within its ample space 
 and enclosing walls. 
 
 A young girl, on a low stool, leaned her arm 
 across the knees of an older woman, who sat in a 
 high-backed chair. The two were for the moment 
 alone, though voices reached them of children at 
 play, and the monotonous strumming of five-finger 
 exercises on a piano across the hall made a back 
 ground for their talk. A big yellow cat blinked 
 
 314
 
 FULFILLMENTS 315 
 
 sleepily on a cushion in the window-seat. The 
 house always had a yellow cat; the forbears of this 
 one had belonged to it, as did the dim Oriental rugs, 
 and the antique furniture. 
 
 The girl was tall and finely formed with outlines 
 that would fill into fuller grace in days to come. 
 She had dark red hair, wavy and abundant, a skin of 
 dazzling fairness, and a hand, not small, but white 
 and capable, from wrist to finger-tips. Her face 
 was vivid and intense, expressive of resolution, but 
 with an undernote of purity and sweetness that 
 gave her an irresistible charm. 
 
 Her friend, with soft gray hair piled high above her 
 forehead, and eyes that had not lost their youthful 
 fire, was a woman of the rare type that is lovely to 
 the end, never losing beauty, though never hiding 
 age. She sat up straight in her chair. One saw at 
 once that she was not a woman to loll or lounge. 
 The carriage of her head was queenly. She was a 
 woman accustomed to deference and to granting, 
 not asking, favors. 
 
 They had been very quiet for a while, these two, 
 who were close friends, at the moment disagreeing 
 on a subject important to both. 
 
 In the hall ticked slowly and solemnly, an old 
 clock that had never fallen into the habit of telling 
 anything but the truth. For two hundred years that 
 clock had done its work, one minute at a time, as 
 steady as time, though hands that had wound it had 
 faltered in their task and laid it down. 
 
 "I wish," exclaimed the girl vehemently at last, 
 "that I could be as peaceful as you are, dearest. 
 When I am at home, I domineer over father and
 
 316 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 mother, when I go to the mills, I carry all before me 
 there. I know I m tyrannical, but I can t seem to help 
 it, when I see how they get into fusses over at that 
 absurd Hall of Rest such a silly name I just rage 
 and fume at them, but when I sit by you, I m like 
 a child that has promised to be good." 
 
 "And my Lee loves you, Lois," said the older 
 woman dreamily. "Are you going to be good to 
 him ? Because, I m afraid, darling, you ll be very 
 unhappy unless you can learn more self-control than 
 either of you has shown yet. If you were not both 
 only children! I m afraid you ve been spoiled, and 
 spoiling in childhood isn t a good preparation for the 
 hardships of life. This is why I m so willing to have 
 you separated while Lee goes over to Berlin to study, 
 and you stay here, and carry on all the work you 
 manage so well." 
 
 " Two years is an eternity! " 
 
 "And you are not to be engaged during them, 
 dear child. You are to be free. Lee is to be free. It 
 is not as if you had not grown up together. I m 
 afraid, sometimes, that your love is only propinquity; 
 only being used to each other." 
 
 "Well," the girl drew a long breath, "I used to 
 think you understood me, but you don t, not a bit. 
 I ll run away, lest I say something I ll regret. Oh, 
 here is dear Mrs. Lee. She ll understand." 
 
 Lois felt not unreasonably vexed. Propinquity in 
 deed! Odious word! Why surely Mrs. Osbourn 
 must know how much it was misapplied. 
 
 "Are you quarrelling?" asked Mrs. Lee, surveying 
 them keenly. The cataract had been removed, and 
 her sight restored some time before this.
 
 FULFILLMENTS 3 1 7 
 
 "Not quarrelling, mother, but I ve been talking to 
 Lois, as I have to my husband. I don t think the 
 children should be engaged until Lee gets through 
 his work at Berlin, and his heart is set on taking that 
 post-graduate course, you know. There is no occa 
 sion for haste. Why should Lois decide till she has 
 seen more of the world ? Besides Lois will be very 
 rich, and Lee should not be supposed to want her 
 fortune." 
 
 " That speech," said Lois decidedly, "is unworthy 
 of you, Mrs. Osbourn. Say what you mean, that she 
 is too conceited, too self-willed, too anything that you 
 don t approve. Why not," she went on stormily, 
 rising and standing by the table, "say right out that 
 you wish in your heart that Lee had not fallen in 
 love with her or any one else ? But now it s done, 
 it can t be helped. And you are annoyed because I 
 am older than Lee. Almost two years older! I do 
 wish I were not, but I can t help myself. Don t for 
 pity s sake, think I m pleading for either of us; I 
 wouldn t condescend to, but I think you are awfully 
 cruel, and you forget that you were once a girl. If 
 my father were not an invalid, he would speak for 
 us, I know he would." 
 
 A boyish footstep came ringing across the path, 
 and in walked a tall young fellow, with eyes like 
 his mother, and a look of the sun in the morn 
 ing. 
 
 " Hello!" he cried, "what luck! Here you are, Lois, 
 just when I wanted you, and where I wanted you. 
 Now, mother, I ve had the thing out with my father, 
 .and he has given his full consent. Lois, my darling, 
 why can t we be married before I go to Europe ?"
 
 318 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 "Your mother doesn t want us so much as en 
 gaged, Lee! " 
 
 " Well, mother has sense. I don t want to be en 
 gaged. I want to be married, and to take my bride 
 over with me. I see no manner of reason for any 
 delay." 
 
 The years seemed to roll away before Eleanor s 
 eyes. She heard, in her boy s tones, the vehement 
 tones of her lover of the long ago; she heard again 
 the same passionate pleading. 
 
 Her old mother looked up and smiled. 
 
 " Why this hurry, you foolish children ? " 
 
 " We are growing older every day, and something 
 may happen. I want to take my wife with me when 
 I go over there to study." Lee looked determined. 
 The want was imperious. 
 
 Harry Osbourn, gray, portly, of commanding 
 presence, had followed his son home. He came in 
 and launched at once into the midst of the discus 
 sion. As he crossed the room to stand beside his 
 wife, he gave Lois a friendly glance and pressed her 
 hand. 
 
 "They are right, wife," he declared. "There 
 would be no reason whatever in putting off their 
 wedding. I d rather not have my boy go alone when 
 Lois is not averse to going too." 
 
 Eleanor looked doubtful. "I have never grown 
 used to thinking these children of age," she said. 
 " Yet Lee is twenty-one, and Lois " 
 
 "Twenty-three," responded Lois promptly. "Ven 
 erable!" 
 
 "Hush, Lois!" Lee would never hear a word 
 about those two years of advantage on her part.
 
 FULFILLMENTS 319 
 
 "I look older than you do," he whispered, consol 
 ingly. 
 
 " I have had a very plain talk with your father, Lois," 
 said Mr. Osbourn, " and he is on your side and Lee s. 
 Mr. Waugh is good enough to say that he prefers 
 no postponement, and that no choice his daughter 
 could make would be more pleasing to him." 
 
 " Yes, the dear father would never stand in the 
 way of my happiness/ said Lois, "nor would 
 mother. I couldn t very well stay two years away 
 from them, though. Father would miss me." 
 
 "You should come home whenever you wished, 
 if they could not come to us," Lee declared. 
 
 "It was our engagement, not our wedding, I 
 wanted sanctioned/ said Lois. 
 
 "You see, love, I am the wiser," insisted Lee. 
 " Come, mother mine, give us your blessing." 
 
 There was a little more conversation, and then 
 Eleanor hauled down her flag. She took Lois in her 
 arms and kissed her. 
 
 " I could not wish for a dearer daughter," she said. 
 "Pardon me if 1 have been cold. I love you, my 
 child, and you shall share the love I give my boy. 
 May he never cause you a single heartache! " 
 
 "Ah, now mother," cried Lee, "and what makes 
 you drop into that plaintive note ? If heartaches are 
 around, I ll be the one to bear them, not she." 
 
 Kathleen s bevy of young people and children came 
 trooping in. The old house was gay with the large 
 family of Kathleen and Dick, and the grandmother 
 thought they kept her young. 
 
 Lois and Lee took leave and strolled off together, a 
 pair whom nature had designed each to complement
 
 320 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 the other. Eleanor lingered, looking at the home 
 where she had been a girl, the house so little changed. 
 She felt herself older, yet the heart of youth throbbed 
 in her again as she and her husband walked home 
 under the maple trees. 
 
 " Are you sure, Harry, that you are right in encour 
 aging his scheme?" she asked. " I cannot feel that 
 we are wise in saying yes. I don t want it to look 
 to the world, as if Lee is trying to marry the Waugh 
 fortune." 
 
 " You almost make me angry, Nellie, or you would, 
 if I could be angry with you. As if Lee Osbourn 
 were a pauper, or an idiot, and not a pretty well-to- 
 do young man, clean, handsome, wholesome, with a 
 bright future before him, if God spares his life, and as. 
 if Lois Waugh were not a most charming girl, of a 
 personality like flame, and a parentage that of itself 
 is a certificate of character. I am thankful to see 
 them mated. Nothing could be better. Waugh< 
 thinks as I do." 
 
 "There s a good deal of Donald Waugh in Lois," 
 said Eleanor reflectively. "Life with her won t be a 
 gracious and amiable affair. There ll be ups and. 
 downs." 
 
 "There s a good deal of his dear mother in Lee," 
 answered Harry. " I ll back him for winnings in any 
 race, God bless him ! " 
 
 "I suppose it was to be," acquiesced Eleanor, as 
 they reached their door. 
 
 A little lady was there before them. It was Mattie, 
 stouter, compacter than ever, but smiling and gracious. 
 She came forward with extended hands. 
 
 " Lois could have chosen nobody who would have.
 
 FULFILLMENTS 321 
 
 pleased me, and her father, as Lee Osbourn does," 
 she said. "We ll give them a beautiful wedding, 
 and once they are married, I hope Lee will put his 
 foot down, and keep my daughter away from count 
 ing-rooms and factories forever more." 
 
 A few weeks later bride and groom sailed away. 
 As the parents of both went home to houses that for 
 awhile would be a little lonelier, they were silent. 
 
 Donald Waugh slipped Mattie s hand into his, and 
 with more animation than he had recently shown, 
 said, 
 
 " I have you still, dear. We ll go over by and by 
 and bring them back." 
 
 Eleanor, with an ache at the back of her eyes, that 
 felt like tears, sat up very straight, and when her 
 husband s arm went round her, smiled. It was a 
 brave smile, as brave as her life, for she had not 
 wished her only son to marry at twenty-one. But 
 this was a selfish feeling and she knew it and put it 
 down. After an hour alone in her chamber, she 
 joined Harry, and her face was serene as a summer 
 morning. 
 
 "We are not going to be morbid, are we?" he 
 said caressingly. 
 
 She lifted eyes that were shining through tears. 
 
 "Harry, what is before those two, only God 
 knows." 
 
 " Let us hope that God knowing, will guide them 
 aright," he said. 
 
 "Lois is too masterful in her nature, she has 
 yielded too little, to be at once a happy wife." 
 
 " Lee is very considerate, and both are wholly in 
 love, dear. Is not that fact a pledge that all will be
 
 Uljbtt UDKAKY 
 
 322 ELEANOR LEE 
 
 well with them ? Come, Eleanor, be just. We can 
 not keep our children little forever, and in their blithe 
 day of youth, why should we begrudge them their 
 right to their own lives ? Be just, my darling. We 
 too have been young." 
 
 " You will be young when you are threescore and 
 ten, Harry Osbourn." 
 
 "And you can never be old," he answered gal 
 lantly. " Come, dear, we re not going to be morbid, 
 are we?" 
 
 " No. We are going to be thankful. We are go 
 ing to remember the years of the right hand of the 
 Most High." 
 
 "Dear," said the husband, " God has been good to 
 us, unspeakably good. Has He not ? Shall we not 
 trust Him still ? " 
 
 "Yes," said the wife, " I have nothing in my heart 
 but praise." 
 
 THE END
 
 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 A 000 657 544 3