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 Copyright, 1895, 
 By Lamson, Wolffe, & Co 
 
 All rights reserved
 
 Note by the Author 
 
 THE little story "A Virginia Cousin," here 
 put into print for the first time, is in some 
 sort a tribute offered by a long-exiled child of the 
 South to her native soil. It is also a transcript 
 of certain phases of that life in the metropolis 
 which has been pooh-poohed by some critics as 
 trivially undeserving of a chronicler, but fortunate 
 hitherto in finding a few readers willing to con- 
 cede as much humanity to the "heroine in satin" 
 as to the "confidante in linen." 
 
 Of the other contents of this volume, "Out of 
 Season" made its first appearance some time ago 
 in Tiuo Tales, and "On Frenchman's Bay" was 
 published in The Cosmopolitan Magazine. 
 
 C. C. H. 
 NEW YORK, 
 
 November, 1895 
 
 2046371
 
 A Virginia Cousin
 
 Chapter I 
 
 MR. THEODORE VANCE TOWNSEND A Vir- 
 awoke to the light of a spring morn- ginia 
 ing in New York, feeling at odds with Cousin 
 the world. The cause for this state of 
 variance with existing circumstances was 
 not at sight apparent. He was young, 
 good-looking, well-born, well-mannered, 
 and, to support these claims to favorable 
 consideration, had come into the fortunes 
 of a father and two maiden aunts, a 
 piece of luck that had, however, not 
 secured for him the unqualified approba- 
 tion of his fellow-citizens. 
 
 Joined to the fact that, upon first leav- 
 ing college, some years before, he had led 
 a few cotillons at New York balls, his 
 wealth and leisure had brought upon 
 Townsend the reproach of the metropoli- 
 tan press to the extent that nothing short 
 of his committing suicide would have in- 
 duced it to look upon anything he did as 
 in earnest.
 
 A Vlr- With an inherited love of letters, he had 
 ginia dabbled in literature so far as to write and 
 Cousin publish a book of verse, of fair merit, 
 which, however, had been received with 
 tumultuous rhapsodies of satire by the pro- 
 fessional critics. The style and title of 
 "Laureate of the 400," applied in this 
 connection, had indeed clung to him and 
 made life hateful in his sight. To escape 
 it and the other rubs of unoccupied sol- 
 vency, he had made many journeys into 
 foreign countries, had gone around the 
 globe, and, in due course, had always come 
 to the surface in New York again, with a 
 sort of doglike attachment to the place of 
 his birth that would not wear away. 
 
 Of the society he was familiar with, 
 Vance was profoundly weary. Of domes- 
 tic ties, he had only a sister, married to a 
 rich banker, and in possession of a fine 
 new house, whose tapestries and electric 
 lighting occupied all her thoughts and con- 
 versation that could be spared for things 
 indoors. Away from home, Mrs. Clif- 
 ton was continually on the wing, attend- 
 ing to the demands of philanthropy or 
 charity, and to cultivation of the brain in
 
 classes of women of incomes equal to her A Vir- 
 own. Whenever her brother dined with ginia 
 her, she entertained him with a voluble Cousin 
 flow of conversation about these women 
 and their affairs, never failing, however, to 
 exhibit her true sisterly feeling by telling 
 Vance that she could not see why in the 
 world he did not marry Kitty Ainger and 
 settle down. 
 
 By dint of much iteration, this sugges- 
 tion of Kitty Ainger as a wife had come 
 to take languid possession of the young 
 man's brain. Besides, he liked Miss Ain- 
 ger as well as admired her, and was per- 
 haps more content in her company than 
 in that of anybody else he knew. 
 
 On the spring morning in question, he 
 had awaked in a flood of sunshine and 
 fresh air that poured through the open 
 windows of his room. His cold bath, his 
 simple breakfast, his ride in the Park, 
 brought his sensations of physical well- 
 being to a point that almost excited his 
 spirits to strike a balance of youthful cheer- 
 fulness. He forgot his oppressive belong- 
 ings, the obloquy they had conferred upon 
 him in the minds of men who make pub-
 
 A Vir- lie opinion about others as citizens, his 
 ginia unreasonable stagnation of ambition. 
 Cousin As he cantered along the equestrian 
 byways of the Park, and felt, without 
 noting, the stir of new life in nature, he 
 grew light of heart and buoyant. And as 
 this condition increased, his thoughts crys- 
 tallized around the image of {Catherine 
 Ainger. She, too, loved her morning ride ; 
 no doubt he should meet her presently. 
 He had not seen her since Thursday of 
 last week, when he had taken her in to 
 dinner at Mrs. Cartwright's ; and he had 
 a vague idea she had resented him a little 
 on that occasion. Her talk had been a 
 trifle baffling, her eyes evasive. But she 
 had worn a stunning gown, and was by all 
 odds the best-looking woman of the lot. 
 How well she sat at table, by the way ! 
 What an admirable figure for a man who 
 would be forced to entertain, to place at 
 the head of his board in perpetuity ! 
 
 Their families, too, had always known 
 each other. And she was so uncommonly 
 level-headed and sensible ! Agreeable, too ; 
 no whims, no fancies. He had never 
 heard of her being ill for a day. As to
 
 temper and disposition, they matched all A Vir- 
 the rest. She had never flirted ; and, mar- ginia 
 rying at twenty-six a husband of twenty- Cousin 
 nine, she would give him no possible 
 anxiety on that score. 
 
 Yes, his sister was right ; everybody 
 was right. Miss Ainger was the mate 
 designed for him by heaven ; and he had 
 been a fool to dawdle so long in making 
 up his mind to accept the fact. 
 
 As the sunshine warmed him, and his 
 horse forged along with a beautiful even 
 stride beneath him, Vance worked up to 
 a degree of enthusiasm he had not felt 
 since he played on a winning football 
 eleven in a college game. That very day 
 he would seek her and ask her to be his 
 wife. They would be married as soon as 
 she was willing, and would go away in 
 the yacht somewhere and learn to love 
 each other. He would have an aim, a 
 home, a stake in the community. At 
 thirty years of age, he should be found no 
 longer in dalliance with time to make it 
 pass away. 
 
 Vance, enamored of these visions, fin- 
 ished the circuit of the Park without see- 
 
 [7]
 
 A Vlr- ing the central object of them, with whom 
 ginia he had resolved to make an appointment 
 Cousin to receive him at home that afternoon. 
 He rode back to the stable where he kept 
 his horse, left it there, and, getting into an 
 elevated car, went down-town to visit his 
 lawyer, going with that gentleman after- 
 wards into the stately halls of the Law- 
 yers' Club for luncheon. 
 
 At a table near him, Vance saw, sitting 
 alone, a man named Crawford, whom he 
 had met casually and knew for a hard- 
 working and ambitious junior member of 
 the New York bar. They exchanged 
 nods, and Vance fancied that Crawford 
 looked at him with a scrutiny more close 
 than the occasion warranted. 
 
 " You know Crawford, then ? " said 
 Mr. Gleason, an old friend of Vance's 
 father. " He began work with our firm, 
 but had an offer for a partnership in a year 
 or two, and left us. He's a tremendous 
 fellow to grind, but is beginning to reap 
 the benefit of it in making a name for him- 
 self. If that fellow had a little capital, 
 there is nothing he could not do, in this 
 community. He has never been abroad,
 
 has had no pleasures of society, leads a A Vlr- 
 scrupulously regular life, drinks no liquors gin: a 
 or wines of any kind, and is in bed by Cousin 
 twelve o'clock every night of his life. 
 His only indulgence is to buy books, with 
 which his lodgings overflow. We have 
 always supposed him to be a woman- 
 hater, until latterly, when straws seem to 
 show that the wind blows for him from a 
 point of sentiment. He was in the Adi- 
 rondacks last summer, in camp with a 
 friend, and I 've an idea he met his fate 
 then. After all, Vance, my dear boy, 
 marriage is the goal man runs for, be he 
 what he may. It will develop John Craw- 
 ford, just as it would develop you, in the 
 right direction ; and I heartily wish you 
 would tell me when you intend to suc- 
 cumb to the universal fate, and fall in 
 love." 
 
 " I heartily wish I could," said Vance, 
 with a tinge of the mockery he had that 
 morning put aside. 
 
 At that moment, Crawford, who had 
 finished his luncheon, passed their table, 
 hat in hand, bowing and smiling as he did 
 so. A waiter, jostling by, made him 
 
 [p]
 
 A Vir- loosen his hold of the hat, a rather shabby 
 ginia light-brown Derby, that rolled under 
 Cousin Vance Townsend's feet. It was lifted 
 by Vance and restored to its owner before 
 the waiter could reach the spot ; and again 
 Vance thought he detected a look of sig- 
 nificance, incomprehensible to him, in the 
 frank eyes Crawford turned upon him as 
 he expressed his thanks. 
 
 " It would have been a benefit to Craw- 
 ford's friends to have accidentally put your 
 foot through that hat," said Mr. Gleason, 
 laughing. " He is accused by them of 
 having worn it ever since he was admitted 
 to the bar. But then, who thinks of 
 clothes, with a real man inside of them ? 
 And no doubt the girl they say he is going 
 to marry will right these trifling matters 
 in short order." 
 
 " I like Crawford ; I must see more of 
 him," replied Vance. " He strikes me as 
 the fellow to pass a pleasant evening with. 
 I wonder if he would come to dine with 
 me." 
 
 " If you bait your invitation with an 
 offer to show your first editions, no doubt 
 of it," said Mr. Gleason. " But to go 
 
 [70]
 
 back to our conversation, Vance. When A Vir- 
 are we to " ginia 
 
 " I decline to answer," interrupted the Cousin 
 young man, smiling, nevertheless, in such 
 a way that Mr. Gleason built up a whole 
 structure of probabilities upon that single 
 smile. 
 
 Yes, Vance decided, everything con- 
 spired to urge him toward his intended 
 venture that afternoon. When, about four 
 o'clock, he turned his steps in the direc- 
 tion of Miss Ainger's home, he had reached 
 a pitch of very respectably loverlike anx- 
 iety. He even fancied the day had been 
 unusually long. He caught himself spec- 
 ulating as to where she would be sitting in 
 the drawing-room, how she would look 
 when he laid his future in her hands. 
 
 At that moment, he allowed himself to 
 remember a series of occasions during the 
 years of their friendship, upon any one of 
 which he believed he might have spoken 
 as he now meant to speak, and that she 
 would have answered as he now expected 
 her to answer. Ah ! what had he not 
 lost ? In her gentle, equable companion- 
 ship, he would have been a better, a higher,
 
 A Vir- a less discontented fellow. All the vir- 
 ginia tues, charms, desirable qualities, of this fine 
 Cousin and high-bred young woman, who had been 
 more patient, more forgiving, than he de- 
 served, were concentrated into one small 
 space of thought, like the Lord's Prayer 
 engraved upon a tiny coin. But even as 
 his foot touched the lowest step of her 
 father's portal, he experienced a shock of 
 doubt of himself and of his own stability. 
 He tarried ; he turned away, and strolled, 
 whither he knew not. 
 
 In the adjoining street lived Mrs. Myr- 
 tle, an aunt of his, to whom, it must be 
 said, Vance rarely paid the deference con- 
 sidered by that excellent lady her just due. 
 She inhabited the brown-stone dwelling in 
 which, as a bride, she had gone to house- 
 keeping when New York society was still 
 within limits of visitors on foot. Not that 
 that made any difference to Mrs. Myrtle, 
 who had always kept her carriage, and had, 
 about twenty years back, been cited as a 
 leader of the metropolitan beau monde. 
 
 In those days, whether on wheels or 
 a-foot, everybody went to Mrs. Myrtle's 
 Thursdays. Her spacious drawing-rooms,
 
 papered in crimson flock paper, with their A Vir- 
 massive doors and mouldings and mirror- ginia 
 frames and curtain-tops of ebonized wood Cousin 
 with gold scroll decorations, their furni- 
 ture in the same wood, with red satin 
 damask coverings, had, in their time, con- 
 tained the elect of good society. The 
 pictures upon Mrs. Myrtle's walls, and the 
 statuary scattered on pedestals about the 
 rooms, were then quoted by the newspapers, 
 and by those so favored as to see them, as 
 a rare display of the highest art, accumu- 
 lated by an American householder. One 
 of the earliest affronts of many uninten- 
 tionally put upon his aunt by Vance had 
 been his contemptuous shrug of the shoul- 
 ders when called upon by her, shortly after 
 his return from his first winter spent in 
 Italy, to view her " statuary." 
 
 Since then, Mrs. Myrtle had, little by 
 little, come to a perception of the fact that 
 her " art collection " was not, any more 
 than its mistress, an object of the first 
 importance to New York. But Vance 
 had been always associated in her mind 
 with the incipient stages of enlightenment, 
 and she loved him accordingly. Her love
 
 A Vlr- for Vance's sister, Mrs. Clifton, who re- 
 ginia fused to pay her tribute, and belonged to 
 Cousin the new " smart set," was even less. 
 
 Upon Mrs. Myrtle, Vance now resolved 
 to pay a long-deferred duty-call. Admitted 
 by an old negro butler, he was left alone 
 in the large darkling drawing-room, in the 
 shade of the crimson curtains, amid the 
 ghostly ranks of the statues, to ruminate 
 until Mrs. Myrtle should make her appear- 
 ance. Little thought did he bestow upon 
 the duration of this ordeal. He was well 
 occupied, and, for once in his life, heartily 
 ashamed, first, of his indecision upon the 
 Ainger door-steps, and, secondly, of the 
 fact that he had put in here to gain cour- 
 age to return there. 
 
 Mrs. Myrtle's heavy tread upon her 
 own parquet floor aroused him from medi- 
 tation. His aunt was a massive lady, who 
 wore black velvet, with a neck-ruff of old 
 point-lace; who, never pretty, and no 
 longer pleasant to look upon, yet carried 
 herself with a certain ease born of assur- 
 ance in her own place in life, and culti- 
 vated by many years of receiving visitors. 
 Her small white hand, twinkling with dia-
 
 monds, was extended to him with some- A Vir- 
 thing of the grand air he remembered his ginia 
 mother, who was the beauty of her family, Cousin 
 to have possessed ; and then Mrs. Myrtte, 
 seating herself, fixed an unsmiling gaze 
 upon her nephew. 
 
 " I ah thought I would look in and 
 see how you are getting on," he said, with 
 an attempt at jocularity. 
 
 " But it is not Thursday," she an- 
 swered, cold as before. " I make it a 
 point to see no one except on Thursday, 
 or after five. And it is not yet after 
 five." 
 
 Townsend, who could not dispute this 
 fact, was at a loss how to go on. But 
 Mrs. Myrtle, having put things upon the 
 right footing, launched at once into an ex- 
 position of her grievances against him, his 
 sister, and the ruling society of latter-day 
 New York. 
 
 " I am sure if any one had told your 
 mother and me, when we first came out, 
 what people were to push us against the 
 wall, and to have all New York racing 
 and tearing after their invitations, we 
 should never have believed it. It 's enough
 
 A Vir- to make your poor mother come back from 
 ginia the dead, to revise Anita Clifton's visiting- 
 Cousin list. And I suppose the next thing to 
 hear of will be your marriage into one of 
 these bran-new families. I must say, 
 Theodore, although it is seldom my opin- 
 ion is listened to, I was pleased when I 
 heard, the other day, that you were re- 
 ported engaged to Katherine Ainger. The 
 Aingers are of our own sort ; and her 
 fortune, although it is not so important to 
 you, will be handsome. She is one of the 
 few girls who go much into the world who 
 still remember to come to see me j and 
 she has been lunching here to-day." 
 
 44 Really ? " said Vance, turning over his 
 hat in what he felt to be a most perfunc- 
 tory way. 
 
 44 Yes ; if you or Anita Clifton had been 
 here in the last two months, you might 
 have found out that I have had a young 
 lady a Southern cousin stopping in the 
 house." 
 
 14 A cousin of mine ? " queried the 
 young man, indifferently. 
 
 44 My first cousin's daughter, Evelyn 
 Carlylc. You know there was a break
 
 between the families about the beginning A Vir- 
 of the war, and, for one reason or another, ginia 
 we have hardly met since. When I went Cousin 
 to the Hot Springs for my rheumatism last 
 year, you and Anita Clifton doubtless 
 are not aware that I have been a great 
 sufferer from rheumatism, I stopped a 
 night or two at Colonel Carlyle's house 
 in Virginia, and took rather a fancy to this 
 girl. I found out that she has a voice, and 
 desired to cultivate it in New York, and 
 so invited her to come on after Christmas 
 and stay in my house." 
 
 Vance was conscious of a slight feeling 
 of somnolence. Really, he could not be 
 expected to care for the Virginian cousin's 
 voice. And Aunt Myrtle had such a 
 soporific way of drawling out her sen- 
 tences ! He wished she would return to 
 the subject of her luncheon-guest, and 
 then, perhaps, he might manage to keep 
 awake. 
 
 41 So you invited Miss Ainger to-day, to 
 keep the young lady company ? " he ven- 
 tured to observe. 
 
 " If you will give me time to explain, 
 I will tell you that Katherine Ainger and 
 
 ['7]
 
 A Vir- she have struck up the greatest friendship 
 ginia this winter, and have been together part 
 Cousin of every day. I wish, Vance, that you 
 could bring yourself to extend some atten- 
 tion to your mother's first cousin's child. 
 From Anita Clifton I expect nothing 
 absolutely nothing. Not belonging to the 
 1 smart set,' whatever that may be, I make 
 no demands upon Anita Clifton. But you, 
 Vance, have not yet shown that you are 
 absolutely heartless. When Eve goes 
 home, as she soon will, it would be grati- 
 fying to have her able to say you had rec- 
 ognized her existence." 
 
 " I will leave a card for the young lady 
 in the hall," he said, awkwardly; " and 
 perhaps she would allow me to order some 
 flowers for her. Just now, Aunt Myrtle, 
 I have an engagement, and I must really 
 be going on." 
 
 He had risen to his feet, and Mrs. Myr- 
 tle was about shaping a last arrow to aim 
 at him, when the door opened, and a girl 
 came into the room. 
 
 " Oh ! Cousin Augusta," she said, in 
 the most outspoken manner, a slight
 
 Southern accent marking some of the A Vir- 
 syllables enunciated in a remarkably sweet ginia 
 voice, " I have been taking your Dandie Cousin 
 Dinmont for a walk, and he has been such 
 a good, obedient dear, you must give him 
 two lumps of sugar when he comes to tea 
 at five o'clock." 
 
 As Mrs. Myrtle performed the cere- 
 mony of introduction between them, Vance 
 became conscious that he was in the pres- 
 ence of one of the most radiantly pretty 
 young persons who had ever crossed the 
 line of his languid vision. Equipped in a 
 tailor-made frock of gray serge, a black 
 hat with many rampant plumes upon her 
 red-brown hair, a boa of black ostrich 
 feathers curling around her pearly throat 
 and caressing the rosiest of cheeks, his 
 Cousin Eve surveyed him with as much 
 indifference as if he had been the veriest 
 casual met in a crowd in Fifth Avenue. 
 Two fingers of a tiny gloved hand were 
 bestowed on him in recognition of their 
 relationship, after which she resumed her 
 interrupted talk about the dog. 
 
 " You understand that Mr. Townsend
 
 A Vir- is a relative, my dear ? " asked Mrs. Myr- 
 ginia tie, in her rocking-horse manner. " You 
 Cousin have heard me speak of him ? " 
 
 " Yes j oh, yes, certainly," Eve said, 
 with preoccupation. " But to us Vir- 
 ginians a cousin means either very much 
 or very, very little." 
 
 " The presumption, then, is against 
 me ? " he asked, determined not to be 
 subdued. 
 
 " Is it ? I had not thought," she an- 
 swered, hardly looking in his direction. 
 Vance took the hint and his departure. 
 When again out of doors, he straightened 
 himself, and walked with a firmer, more 
 determined tread, conscious of a little 
 tingling in his veins on the whole not dis- 
 agreeable. In this mood, he reached the 
 corner of the street in which dwelt Miss 
 Ainger, and was very near indeed to pass- 
 ing it, but, recovering himself with a start, 
 turned westward from the Avenue, and 
 again sought the house from which he had 
 gone irresolute a little while before. 
 
 The door was opened for him by a ser- 
 vant, who did not know " for sure," but 
 " rather thought " Miss Ainger was in the 
 [20]
 
 drawing-room. While following the man A Vir- 
 across a wide hall, Vance espied, lying up- ginla 
 on a chair, a man's hat not the conven- Cousin 
 tional high black hat of the afternoon 
 caller, but a rusty brown " pot " hat, of 
 an unobtrusive pattern. 
 
 " Humph ! the piano-tuner, no doubt," 
 he said to himself, and simultaneously re- 
 called the fact that he had seen the object 
 in question, or its twin brother, that same 
 day. Before the footman could put his 
 hand upon the knob of the drawing-room 
 door, it opened, and the owner of the hat 
 came out. It was indeed Crawford, 
 dressed in morning tweeds, as Vance had 
 seen him at luncheon in the Lawyers' 
 Club, his plain, strong face illuminated 
 with an expression Vance knew nothing 
 akin to, and therefore did not interpret. 
 
 But Vance did know Miss Ainger for 
 an independent in her set, a girl who struck 
 out for herself to find clever and compan- 
 ionable people with whom to fraternize ; 
 and he was accordingly not surprised to 
 meet Crawford here as a visitor. As once 
 before that day, the two men exchanged 
 silent nods, and parted. Vance found
 
 A Vir- Miss Ainger caressing with dainty finger- 
 ginia tips a large bunch of fresh violets that lay 
 Cousin in her lap and filled the room with fra- 
 grance. 
 
 Kitty Ainger, a daughter of New York, 
 calm, reserved, temperamentally serious, 
 fond of argument upon high themes, cul- 
 tivated in minor points to a fastidious de- 
 gree, handsome in a sculptural way, had 
 always seemed to him lacking in the one 
 grace of womanly tenderness he vaguely 
 felt to be of vast moment in a young man's 
 choice for a wife. 
 
 To-day, as she greeted him, her manner 
 was gentle and gracious to perfection. 
 Perhaps it so appeared in contrast to that 
 of the fair Phyllida who had flouted him 
 in his Aunt Myrtle's drawing-room ; per- 
 haps Kitty was really glad of this first 
 occasion in many days when they were 
 alone together, undisturbed. 
 
 The thought caused a wave of excite- 
 ment to rise in the suitor's veins. He 
 wondered how he could have held back, 
 an hour before, when upon the threshold 
 of such an opportunity. But then, had he 
 made appearance, no doubt there would
 
 have been other visitors, Crawford, for A Vir- 
 instance, whom Miss Ainger was plainly ginia 
 taking by the hand, to lead into society, as Cousin 
 clever girls will do when they find an un- 
 known clever man ; Crawford, who did 
 not know enough of conventionality to 
 put on a black coat when he called on a 
 girl in the afternoon ; Crawford, poor and 
 plain, a man's man, whom the Ainger fam- 
 ily no doubt regarded as one of Kitty's 
 freaks. Yes, Crawford would have been 
 a decided interruption to this tete-a-tete. 
 
 Now, there was an open sea before 
 Vance, and he had only to launch the 
 boat, so long delayed, a craft he at last 
 candidly believed to be freighted with the 
 best hopes of his life. They talked for 
 awhile upon impersonal subjects Kitty 
 exerting herself, he could see, to be agree- 
 able and sympathetic with her visitor. In 
 the progress of this conversation, he took 
 note with satisfaction of the artistic ele- 
 gance of her dress (of the exact color of 
 the Peach Blow Vase, he said to himself, 
 searching for a simile in tint), with sleeves 
 of sheenful velvet, and a silken train that 
 lay upon the rug. Her long, white fin-
 
 A Vir- gers, playing with the violets, wore no 
 
 ginia rings. Her slim figure, her braids of pale 
 
 Cousin brown hair, her calm, gray eyes, attracted 
 
 him as never before, with their girlish and 
 
 yet womanly composure. 
 
 " Why have you never told me," he 
 said abruptly, "of your friendship with 
 that little witch of a Virginia cousin of 
 mine who has been staying with Mrs. 
 Myrtle this winter ? " 
 
 " If you wish me to tell you the truth, 
 it was because she asked me never to do 
 so," replied Kitty, coloring a little. " You 
 have met her ? " she added eagerly. 
 
 " Yes, to-day ; a little while ago, when 
 I called upon my aunt. But how could 
 she know of me ? What reason was 
 there for her to avoid me ? " 
 
 " Evelyn is an impulsive creature," was 
 the answer ; and now the blood rushed into 
 Kitty's cheek, and she was silent. 
 
 " Impulsive, yes ; but how could she 
 resent a man she had never seen ; who 
 had not had the smallest opportunity to 
 prove whether or not he was obnoxious to 
 her ? That is quite too ridiculous, I
 
 think. You, who have so much sense, A Vir- 
 character, judgment, why could not you ginia 
 exercise your influence over this very pro- Cousin 
 vincial little person, and teach her that a 
 prejudice is, of all things, petty ? " 
 
 41 She is not a provincial little person," 
 said Kitty, with spirit. " And she does 
 not merit that patronizing tone of yours." 
 
 " If you take her under your wing, she 
 is perfection," he answered lightly, as if 
 the subject were no longer of value for 
 discussion. " But before we begin to 
 differ about her, only tell me if it is my 
 Aunt Myrtle's objection to me as a type 
 that my truculent Cousin Eve has inher- 
 ited ? " 
 
 " I hardly think so. Please ask me no 
 questions," the girl said, uncomfortable 
 with blushing. 
 
 " As you like. It is veiled in mystery," 
 he said, rather piqued. "At least, you 
 won't mind informing me if she got any 
 of her ideas of me from you. No, that 
 is hardly fair. I will alter it. Did you 
 and she ever speak of me together ? " 
 
 " What if I tell you yes, and that, every
 
 A Vir- time we met ? " exclaimed Miss Ainger, 
 ginia plucking up courage when thus driven into 
 Cousin a corner. 
 
 To her surprise and dismay, Vance took 
 this admission quite otherwise than she 
 had meant it. In Eve's attitude toward 
 him, he thought he read a girlish jealousy 
 of the object preoccupying the affections 
 of her friend. 
 
 " I see. I understand," he said, with a 
 gleam in his eyes she had not seen there 
 in all of their acquaintance. Until now, 
 the hearth-rug had been between them. 
 With an animation quite foreign to him, 
 he crossed it, and leaned down to take her 
 hands. At once, Kitty, withdrawing from 
 his grasp, rose to her feet and faced him. 
 " I think there is some great mistake," 
 she said, very quietly. As Vance gazed 
 at her, he became aware that he had until 
 now never seen the true Kitty Ainger, and 
 that her face was beautiful. 
 
 " You repulse me ? You have never 
 cared for me ? " he said, fiercely. 
 
 A wave of color came upon her cheeks, 
 and her eyes dropped before his to the vio- 
 lets in her hand. 
 
 [26]
 
 " I must tell you," she said, after a A Vir- 
 pause, during which both thought of many ginia 
 things stretching back through many years, Cousin 
 " that I have just promised to marry Mr. 
 Crawford."
 
 Chapter II 
 
 A Fir- '"T^HE day of Miss Ainger's marriage 
 ginia * with Crawford, which took place in 
 Cousin New York, a month later than the events 
 heretofore recorded, found Vance Town- 
 send on horseback in Virginia, following, 
 with no especial purpose, a highway that 
 crosses the Blue Ridge Mountains to 
 descend sharply into the valley of the 
 Shenandoah. 
 
 Before leaving home, he had acquitted 
 himself of conventional duty to the bride 
 by ordering to be sent to her the finest 
 antique vase of his collection, a gem 
 of carved metal that Cellini might have 
 signed, filled with boughs of white lilac, 
 his card and best wishes accompanying it. 
 Then, with a heart overburdened, as he 
 fancied, with regretful self-reproach, he 
 had turned his back upon the chief might- 
 have-been of his experience. 
 
 Katherine, who had, in fact, passed 
 many days in her paternal mansion un-
 
 sought by him, was now invested with a A Vir- 
 veil of tender sentiment. In his waist- glnia 
 coat pocket he carried an unfinished poem, Cousin 
 addressed to her, or to an idealized ver- 
 sion of Miss Ainger, which, at intervals 
 on his journey, he would take out and pol- 
 ish and shape with assiduity, forgetting 
 sometimes to sigh over it in his zeal for 
 metrical construction. 
 
 The morning of the day that was to see 
 the prize he had lost become definitely 
 another's beheld Vance bargaining with a 
 farmer a former cavalryman in the 
 Confederate service to ride one of the 
 two horses he had shipped by train from 
 New York, and serve as guide in the war- 
 harried region through which he desired 
 to pass. 
 
 The process was a simple one, the sum 
 negligently offered for his services for a 
 day sufficing to cover the expenses of ex- 
 corporal Claggett for a fortnight, and leave 
 a margin to fill his pipe with. Therefore, 
 the rusty squire in attendance (to whom 
 the treat of bestriding a steed like this 
 would have been requital all-sufficient), 
 the riders left the village that had shel-
 
 A Vir- tered Townsend for the night, and at once 
 ginia set out to ascend a long and toilsome hill, 
 Cousin giving views on every side of an enchant- 
 ing prospect. 
 
 " I don't mean to appear boastful, suh," 
 observed Mr. Claggett, modestly, " an' I 
 ain't travelled much myself out o' this 
 State, but I 've heerd people say this 'ere 
 view beats creation." 
 
 " It is very fine, certainly, Claggett," 
 replied Vance, halting to look back at the 
 wide expanse of hill and valley mantled 
 with springing green, the far-off, grassy 
 heights serving as pasture for sheep and 
 cows, and scattered with limestone boul- 
 ders, against which redbud and dogwood 
 in blossom made brilliant patches; with 
 mountains beyond, above, everywhere, and 
 all of that exquisite, velvet-textured shade 
 of blue, so soft and melting it seems to 
 invite caress. 
 
 " By Jove ! It is well named the Blue 
 Ridge," Vance went on, approvingly. 
 
 "Jest there, Mr. Townsend, in that 
 very spot where the old red cow 's a- 
 munchin' in the grass, was where Pelham 
 stood when his artillery let fly at them
 
 plucky Yankee cavalry that was behind A Vir- 
 the stone wall firin' like fury at our ginia 
 Confeds." Cousin 
 
 " And who was Pelham ? " asked the 
 visitor, with interest. 
 
 "Never heard o' Pelham? Weil, I 
 would n't 'a' thought it," was the compas- 
 sionate answer. " Why, suh, he was a 
 boy, major of artillery nuthin' but a 
 boy, an' they killed him early in the 
 war. But he 'd the skill an' the sense of 
 an old general ; an' there wornt no risk to 
 himself he 'd stop at in a fight. He 'd just 
 swipe vict'ry, every time, suh, Pelham 
 would ; an' he was the pride an' idol of 
 our army. Thar ! them johnny-jump-ups 
 are growin' where his gun stood, an' he 
 rammin' charges into it with his own hand, 
 when he sent that murderin' volley that 
 made batterin'-rams out o' the stones o' 
 the wall here, an' druv the poor Yankees 
 behind it into Kingdom Come. Things 
 look different to me, suh, now. I was a 
 youngster, then, run mad to git into any 
 kind o' fightin' ; but I 've got sons o' my 
 own now, an' I can't somehow see the 
 pints in all that killin' we did in our war,
 
 A Vir- like I used to. But I can't think o' fel- 
 ginia lers like Pelham without wantin' to be in 
 Cousin it again, suh. 
 
 "Why, at Snicker's Gap (heard o' 
 Snicker's Gap, Mr. Townsend ?) that lad, 
 who was commandin' Stuart's horse- 
 artillery, charged on a squadron of cavalry 
 that had been botherin' him with its sharp- 
 shooters, and, with a gun that they 'd 
 dragged by hand through the undergrowth, 
 fired a double charge of canister into their 
 reserves. Then, suh, he charged agin, 
 a reg'lar thunderbolt that sally was, 
 picked up sev'ral prisoners an' horses, 
 an', limberin' up his gun like wild-fire, 
 hurried back to his first position, his men 
 shoutin' for him all the while." 
 
 " Those were stirring days for you, 
 Claggett," said Townsend, whose blood 
 began to answer to the man's enthusiasm. 
 " Yes, Mr. Townsend, they were so ; 
 but you must n't let me impose on you 
 with my war stories. My present wife, 
 suh, a young lady I courted in King 
 William, about the age of my oldest daugh- 
 ter, she won't have me open my mouth 
 'bout war stories at our house. Says I
 
 tire everybody out with my old chestnuts, A Vir- 
 suh ; an' perhaps I do. The ladies like ginia 
 to do a good deal of the talkin' themselves, Cousin 
 I 've noticed, Mr. Townsend." 
 
 With a subdued sigh, Claggett subsided 
 into silence, but not for long. The names 
 of Stuart and Mosby and their officers 
 were ever upon his lips, interspersed with 
 anecdote and gossip concerning the country 
 people whose dwellings were only occa- 
 sionally seen from the road. Here and 
 there, in the distance, chimneys behind 
 clumps of trees were pointed out as be- 
 longing to old inhabitants who had held 
 on to their homes through storm and stress 
 of ill-fortune since the war. 
 
 " Since you are from the Nawth, I 
 would like to tell you, suh, that nobody 
 who is anybody among our gentry ever 
 lived in a village. They lived to them- 
 selves, suh, an' the further away from 
 each other the better. If you had the 
 time, suh, an' were acquainted with the 
 families, I could show you some places 
 that would surprise you. An' the ladies 
 an' gentlemen, Mr. Townsend, of our 
 best old stock are as fine people as any on 
 
 [JJ]
 
 A Vir- God's earth, I reckon. Pity you ain't 
 
 ginia acquainted, as I said. It would give me 
 
 Cousin pleasure to take you inside some of the 
 
 gates of our foremost residents." 
 
 Vance noted with amusement that 
 Claggett did not assume to be on a social 
 plane with the people he extolled, but had 
 accepted the tradition of their superiority 
 as part of the Virginian creed. Laughing, 
 he joined in the honest fellow's regret at 
 his ineligibility to take rank as a guest in 
 the neighborhood. 
 
 41 Though it seems to me, Claggett, now 
 that I think of it, I have a kinsman some- 
 where hereabout. Do you know anything 
 of a family of Carlyles Colonel Car- 
 lyle, I believe they call him ? " 
 
 Claggett's manner underwent instant 
 transformation. 
 
 "Colonel Guy Carlyle, of the Hall, 
 suh ? " he exclaimed, eagerly. "That's 
 in the next county, a matter of twenty or 
 thirty miles from here. I had the luck to 
 serve under the Colonel, Mr. Townsend, 
 and he 'd know me if you spoke my name. 
 You '11 be goin' that way, suh ? We '11 
 
 '
 
 strike north from Glenwood, and get there A Vir- 
 by supper-time." ginia 
 
 "Hold on, Claggett, you '11 be pouring Cousin 
 out my coffee and asking me to take 
 more of the Colonel's waffles, presently. 
 Colonel Carlyle married my mother's 
 cousin, but I fancy would not recognize 
 my name as quickly as yours. I have cer- 
 tainly no grounds for venturing to offer 
 myself as an inmate of his house." 
 
 " Beg your pardon, suh, but the 
 Colonel 'd never get over a relation ridin' 
 so near the Hall an' not stoppin' there 
 to sleep," persisted Claggett. " It 's a 
 thing nobody ever heard of, down this 
 way." 
 
 " I shall have to brave tradition, then," 
 answered Vance, indifferently. 
 
 u It 's a fine old place, suh. House 
 built by the Hessian prisoners in the Rev- 
 olution, and splendid furniture. They do 
 say there 's one mirror in the big saloon 
 that covers fourteen foot of wall, Mr. 
 Townsend. Yanks bivouacked in that 
 room, too, but did n't so much as crack it. 
 An' chandeliers, all over danglers like ear-
 
 A Vlr- rings, suh. For all they ain't got such a 
 
 ginia sight o' money as they had, Miss Eve, 
 
 Cousin she 's got a real knack at fixin' up, an' 
 
 she 's travelled Nawth, an' got all the new 
 
 ideas. You must 'a' met Miss Eve when 
 
 she was Nawth, Mr. Townsend. Why, 
 
 suh, she's the beauty o' three counties; 
 
 nobody could pass her in a crowd, or out 
 
 of it." 
 
 " I have met Miss Carlyle, Claggett," 
 Vance said, growing uncomfortable at the 
 recollection. " But only once, and for a 
 moment. As you say, she is a beautiful 
 young woman." 
 
 " Then you will stop at the Hall, suh ? " 
 pleaded his guide. 
 
 " No," said Vance, briefly. " We will 
 go on to Glenwood,and sleep there at the 
 inn. To-morrow, you shall show me as 
 much of the country as I have enjoyed 
 to-day, but I am here for travelling, and 
 not to cultivate acquaintance, understand." 
 
 " Up yonder, on the hill-top, suh," 
 observed Mr. Claggett, ignoring rebuke, 
 "when we git through this little village 
 we 're comin' to (I was in a red-hot skir- 
 mish once, right in the middle of the
 
 street, ahead, suh), is a tree we call the A Vir- 
 Big Poplar. It marks the junction of ginla 
 three counties, an' 't was there George Cousin 
 Washin'ton slept, when he was on his 
 surveyin' tour as a boy, suh you've 
 heard of General Washin'ton up your 
 way, Mr. Xownsend ? " 
 
 " Yes, confound you," said Vance, 
 laughing at his sly look. 
 
 " General Lee halted at that point to 
 look at the country round, on his way to 
 Gettysburg. A great friend of Colonel 
 Carlyle was the General, suh ; you '11 sec a 
 fine picture of the General in the dinin'- 
 room at the Hall. Colonel Carlyle lost 
 two brothers followin' Lee into battle, suh, 
 but we call that an honor down here. 
 They do say little Miss Eve keeps the old 
 swords and soldier caps of them two 
 uncles in a sort o' altar in her chamber, 
 suh. Heard the news that Miss Eve 's 
 engaged to her cousin, Mr. Ralph Corbin, 
 in Wash'n't'n, suh ? It 's all over the 
 country, I reckon. He 's a young archy- 
 tec', an' doin' well ; but down here nobody 
 knows if a young lady 's engaged for sure, 
 till the day 's set for the weddin'." 
 
 [J7]
 
 A Vir- At this point Vance interrupted his gar- 
 
 ginia rulous guide to suggest that they should 
 
 Cousin seek refreshment for man and beast in the 
 
 hamlet close at hand ; and the diversion 
 
 this created turned Claggett from the 
 
 apparently inexhaustible subject of the 
 
 Carlyles. 
 
 They rode onward, the genial sun, as 
 it mounted higher in the heaven, serving 
 to irradiate, not overheat, the beautiful 
 earth. 
 
 From this point the road went creeping 
 up, by gentle degrees, to the summit of 
 the mountain, beyond which Shenandoah 
 cleft their way in twain. Traversing 
 Ashby's Gap, the efflorescence of the 
 woods, the music of many waters, the 
 balm of purest air, confirmed Vance's 
 satisfaction in his choice of an expedition. 
 Descending the steep grade to the river, 
 they crossed the classic stream upon the 
 most primitive of flat ferry-boats, and on 
 the further side passed almost at once into 
 a rich, agricultural country, upon a well- 
 kept turnpike, where the horses trotted 
 rapidly ahead. 
 
 Claggett, strange to say, did not resume
 
 allusions to the Carlylc family ; but upon A Vir- 
 reaching a certain cross-road, he ventured ginia 
 an appealing glance at his employer. Cousin 
 
 " Turn to the right here, to get a short 
 cut to Carlyle Hall, suh." 
 
 " Where does the left road take us ? " 
 asked Vance, shortly. 
 
 " You kin git to Glenwood that way, 
 Mr. Townsend. But it 's a roundabout 
 way, an' a new road, an' a pretty bad one, 
 an' it 's just in the opposite direction from 
 Colonel " 
 
 Vance answered him by riding to the 
 left. 
 
 A new road, with a vengeance, and one 
 apparently bottomless, the horses at every 
 step plunging deeper into clinging, red- 
 clay mud ; but the obstinacy of Vance 
 kept him riding silently ahead, and the 
 trooper, with a quizzical look upon his 
 weather-beaten face, followed. Miles, 
 traversed in this fashion, brought them 
 into the vicinity of a small gathering of 
 houses, at sight of which Vance spoke for 
 the first time in an hour. 
 
 " Claggett." 
 
 "Yes, suh ? " This, deferentially. 
 
 [JP]
 
 jl y ir - " If I ever go back of my own free will 
 glnia over that infernal piece of road " he 
 Cousin paused for a sufficiently strong expression. 
 
 " Yes, suh? " said Claggett, expectantly. 
 
 " You may write me down an ass." 
 
 " Yes, suh" Claggett exclaimed, with 
 what Vance thought a trifle too much 
 alacrity. " Better let me go befo' you for 
 a little piece, Mr. Townsend," added the 
 countryman. " Just where the road slopes 
 down to the crick, here, it 's sorter treach- 
 erous, if you don't know the best bit." 
 
 Vance, choosing to be deaf, kept in 
 front. He traversed the creek in safety ; 
 but, in ascending the other side, his horse 
 plunged knee-deep into a quagmire, 
 throwing his rider, who arose none the 
 worse except for a plaster of red mud, 
 and emerged evidently lamed. 
 
 " He's all right, suh, excep' for a little 
 strain," said the ex-trooper, after his ex- 
 perienced eye and hand had passed over 
 Merrylad's injuries. 
 
 " We will go at once to the hotel in 
 the village, and get quarters for the night," 
 said Vance, ruefully. " I 've a change of 
 clothes in that bag you carry, so I don't
 
 mind for myself. But I would n't have A Vlr- 
 Merrylad the worse for this for anything." ginia 
 
 " The trouble is, Mr. Townsend," an- Cousin 
 swered Claggett, " that you may get quar- 
 ters fit for a horse here, but you won't be 
 stoppin' yourself, I '11 tell you." 
 
 " Nonsense ! Come along ! You lead 
 Merrylad ; I 'm glad to stretch my legs by 
 a walk," and the young man started off at 
 a good pace, plashing ever through liquid 
 mire, that overflowed street and so-called 
 sidewalk. 
 
 There was no sign of an inn of any 
 kind. A few dilapidated houses of the 
 poorest straggled on either side the street, 
 at the end of which they came upon a 
 country store and post-office combined. 
 Three or four mud-splashed horses hitched 
 to a rock ; as many mud-splashed loungers 
 upon tilted chairs on the platform before 
 the door. That was all. 
 
 " Better take 'em on to old Josey's, 
 Charley," called out a friendly voice to 
 Claggett. 
 
 " Yes, old Josey will do the correct 
 thing by them," remarked a full-bearded, 
 sunburned gentleman, who, seated astride 
 
 Ol
 
 A Vir- of a mule, now came " clopping " toward 
 glnia them through the mud, from the opposite 
 Cousin direction. 
 
 " I am really afraid, Mr. Townsend," 
 Claggett said, persuasively, " that we shall 
 be forced to go on a mile or so further, to 
 old Josey's." 
 
 " And who in the thunder is old Josey ? " 
 exclaimed Vance, testily. 
 
 " Never heard o' him up Nawth, suh ? " 
 answered the trooper, with a twinkle in 
 his eye. " He 's the big person o' this 
 part, an old bachelor, Mr. Joseph 
 Lloyd, who runs the best farms and raises 
 the best stock in the neighborhood. The 
 truth is, not many visitors come here, un- 
 less they are booked for Mr. Lloyd's." 
 
 "What claim have I on him, unless I 
 can pay my night's lodging and yours ? I 
 will leave you and the lame horse here, 
 and make my way back to-night to Glen- 
 wood." 
 
 " To get to Glenwood, you 'd have to 
 pass over right smart of that mire we came 
 through," said Claggett, pensively. 
 
 " Then, in Heaven's name, let us go
 
 to Josey's," said Vance, laughing, in spite A Vir- 
 of his bad humor. ginia 
 
 They bade farewell to the village, and Cousin 
 went off as they had come, Vance choos- 
 ing to walk, the trooper leading the lame 
 horse. 
 
 And now, in defiance of his plight, his 
 melancholy appearance, the accident to his 
 favorite, Vance yielded himself to the spell 
 of a region that became at every moment, 
 as he advanced, more wildly beautiful. 
 The sun, about to set, sent a flood of radi- 
 ance over hills high and low, over a broken 
 rolling country dominated by the massive 
 shaft of Massanutton Mountain, rising like 
 a tower above his lesser brethren. That 
 the " mile or two further on " stretched 
 into four or five, the young man cared not 
 a jot. His lungs filling with crisp, invig- 
 orating air, he strode forward, and was 
 almost sorry when the dormer-windows of 
 an old house shrouded by locust-trees in 
 bloom appeared upon a plateau across 
 intervening fields. 
 
 " Now for my best cheek ! " he said to 
 himself. " What am I to say to old Jo-
 
 A Fir- sephus ? Ask for lodging, like the tramp 
 ginia I look ? Hang it ! I believe I '11 sleep 
 Cousin under the nearest haystack, rather ! " 
 
 While thus absorbed, Mr. Theodore 
 Vance Townsend, the fine flower of vari- 
 ous clubs, did not perceive that he was an 
 object of varying interest and solicitude to 
 three persons looking over the fence of 
 a pasture near-by, where cattle were 
 enclosed. 
 
 Two elderly gentlemen surveyed him 
 closely. A girl, who had tossed a glance 
 at him over her shoulder, seemed to find 
 more attraction in the Alderney heifer, 
 whose saucy rough tongue was at that 
 moment stretched out to lick salt from a 
 velvet palm, than in the mud-stained way- 
 farer. 
 
 "That's no common tramp," said one 
 of the gentlemen to the other. " If you 
 will stay here with my Lady-love, I '11 
 just go and investigate his case." 
 
 Vance Townsend had, perhaps, like 
 other mortals, known his " bad moments " 
 in life. But he felt that there had been 
 few like this, when the old gentleman, 
 issuing through a gate opening from the
 
 pasture, came to him with a quick, de- A Vir- 
 cided step. ginia 
 
 The younger man took off his hat. Cousin 
 The older did likewise. And then Vance, 
 between a laugh and a groan, told his 
 story, confirmed by the apparition at that 
 moment, in the distance, of the horses and 
 Claggett, who was himself afoot. 
 
 " Say no more, my dear fellow, say not 
 another word," interrupted the astonished 
 old gentleman. " My name is Lloyd, and 
 I 'm the owner of that house behind the 
 locusts, where I 'm delighted to take you 
 in, and Charley Claggett, too. We'll find 
 out what 's the matter with your horse, 
 quick enough. Welcome to Wheatlands, r 
 
 sir, and just come along with me." 
 
 Before Vance fairly knew how, he 
 found himself in a " prophet's chamber," 
 looking upon a sloping roof, where a mar- 
 tin was nesting within reach of his hand. 
 Tapping the panes of the upper sash of 
 his window, a branch tasselled with sweet- 
 smelling blossoms swayed in the breeze. 
 Outside, he had a wide and glorious view 
 of field and mountains. Inside, he pos- 
 sessed a clean, if homely, bedroom, at the
 
 A Vir- door of which a soft-voiced negro woman 
 ginia was already knocking, to ask for his be- 
 Cousin spattered garments. 
 
 Vance was delighted. When he fur- 
 thermore found left at his portal a tub 
 with a large bucket of ice-cold water from 
 the spring, together with his bag, he be- 
 gan to think that Virginia hospitality was 
 not to be relegated among things tradi- 
 tional. 
 
 The soft Virginia dusk was closing upon 
 the scene, when our young man, leaving 
 his room, went down-stairs, through a hall 
 hung with trophies and implements of sport, 
 and out of an open door upon the " front 
 porch," to look at the evening star hang- 
 ing above the mountain crest. In this 
 occupation he found another person indulg- 
 ing likewise, and in the clear gloom dis- 
 covered the face and figure of a young and 
 singularly graceful girl, who without hesi- 
 tation accosted him. 
 
 " Mr. Lloyd has told us of your mis- 
 hap," she said, courteously. " He is con- 
 gratulating himself that it happened near 
 enough to let him help you out of it. I
 
 hope the horse will fare as well as the A Vir- 
 master." ginla 
 
 " Merrylad will be all right, thank you, Cousin 
 so Claggett has been up to tell me. It 
 appears that Mr. Lloyd, in addition to his 
 other attractions, is a famous amateur 
 vet." 
 
 " You will find he has all the virtues," 
 she said, laughing. At that moment, a 
 lamp, lighted by the servant in the hall, 
 sent a stream of illumination upon them. 
 To Townsend's utter surprise, he saw the 
 face of his cousin, Evelyn Carlyle. 
 
 " You ! " he heard her say, in a not too 
 well pleased tone ; and " You ? " he 
 repeated, with what he felt to be not a dis- 
 tinguished success. 
 
 " How extraordinary that it should turn 
 out to be you ! " she began again, first of 
 the two to recover her composure. " Did 
 you think were you, that is, on your 
 way to visit us ? " 
 
 " Nothing was further from my 
 thoughts," he answered, bluntly. " I, on 
 the contrary, believed myself to be going 
 in the opposite direction from where you 
 live."
 
 Jl yir- " Of course," she said, somewhat 
 
 ginia piqued. " It is impossible you should have 
 
 Cousin known that papa and I came yesterday on 
 
 a visit to dear old Cousin Josephus. I 
 
 beg your pardon if I was very rude." 
 
 " It is certainly not a welcome that 
 seems inspired by what I have been led 
 to think is Virginia cordiality," he an- 
 swered, coolly. 
 
 " But I have asked your pardon, and 
 that 's not the way to answer me. You 
 might grant it, never so stiffly; and after 
 that, we, being thrown together this way 
 through no fault of either of us, might 
 agree to be decently civil before f>apa, 
 who can have no idea how I feel toward 
 I mean what my reasons are for feel- 
 ing well, never mind what I mean," 
 she ended, vexed at his immobility. 
 
 " I quite join with you in thinking it 
 would be very silly to take any one else 
 into this armed neutrality of ours. I shall 
 at the earliest moment, to-morrow, relieve 
 you of my presence. Suppose, until then, 
 you try to treat me as you would another 
 unoffending man under my circumstances." 
 " Yes. You are right. It would be
 
 better, and it would not worry papa and A Vir- 
 Cousin Josephus," she said, reflectively, ginia 
 " Well, then, if you were another man, I Cousin 
 should begin by asking you what brought 
 you to Virginia. No ; that would not 
 be at all polite, would it ? I think I shall 
 just say nothing at all." 
 
 " Not till you let me assure you that I 
 came because a fellow I know told me he 
 had made a driving tour in this part, last 
 year, with his wife, and had found it 
 rather nice and another reason was, 
 that I wanted to get away from myself." 
 
 " You are very flattering to our State," 
 she said, bridling her head after a fashion 
 he found both comical and sweet. She 
 was' silent a little while, then resumed, 
 more gently : 
 
 " I was thinking of what you last said, 
 and maybe I have done you an injustice. 
 Maybe you are to be pitied more than 
 blamed." 
 
 " Do you mean because I spoiled a 
 good suit of clothes and hurt my horse's 
 leg?" 
 
 " No ; not that. You are clearly not 
 in need of sympathy. There ! They are
 
 A Vir- going to ring the supper-bell, and you 
 
 ginia must go and be introduced to my father, 
 
 Cousin as his cousin. He is the dearest daddy in 
 
 the world, and will be sure to try to make 
 
 you come to visit us at the Hall." 
 
 " Am I to understand this is a hint not 
 to accept ? " 
 
 " I could stay on here, you know," she 
 said, in a businesslike way. 
 
 " You are perfectly exasperating," he 
 exclaimed, and then the summons came 
 to go into the house. Just before they 
 crossed the threshold, she appeared to have 
 undergone another change of mind. 
 Turning back swiftly, in a voice of exceed- 
 ing sweetness she breathed into his ear 
 these words : 
 
 " Please, I am sorry. I ought not to 
 keep forgetting, ought I, that you are a 
 stranger within our gates, and a cousin, 
 really ? " 
 
 u Is she a coquette ? " Vance began to 
 ask himself, but was interrupted by a 
 sortie of his host in search of him. 
 
 O]
 
 Chapter III 
 
 VANCE TOWNSEND had reckoned A Vir- 
 without his host when he made the ginia 
 declaration that he would relieve Miss Cousin 
 Carlyle of his presence the following day. 
 The kind owner of Wheatlands, indulgent 
 to every man and beast upon his premises, 
 had yet a way of holding on to and con- 
 trolling guests that none might resist. 
 
 Vance, however, did not try very hard 
 to resist the invitation to stay at least until 
 " Thursday, when the Carlyles would be 
 running away home." An evening spent 
 with the kind, simple, yet cultivated peo- 
 ple who formed the little coterie at Wheat- 
 lands (there was among them a widowed 
 cousin with her unruly boy, and a cousin 
 who had been unfortunate in his invest- 
 ments) had, somehow, quite upset our 
 hero's notions upon many points. 
 
 Claggett, dismissed with a douceur, the 
 liberality of which consoled that worthy 
 countryman for an early reunion with
 
 A Vir- the lady who would not allow him to 
 ginla tell stories of the war, took an affection- 
 Cousin ate leave of his employer. In his man- 
 ner Vance detected more satisfaction in 
 the vindication of Virginia customs than 
 regret at the severance of their relation. 
 The little triumph Claggett might readily 
 have derived from the incident of the way- 
 farer's meeting, in spite of himself, with 
 his relations was heroically suppressed. 
 And before Townsend had turned upon 
 his pillow the morning after his arrival, a 
 telegram had gone to the town where his 
 luggage had been left, ordering it to be 
 sent by train that day. 
 
 Vance had been told that breakfast 
 would be at nine ; and, awakened at half- 
 past seven by a bird on the bough in his 
 window, he abandoned himself to a lazy 
 review of his impressions of the family. 
 Of his Cousin Eve he had seen little more 
 than what has already been told. After 
 filling her place at a bounteous supper- 
 table, where the talk was chiefly absorbed 
 by the three gentlemen, she had vanished, 
 in company with the widowed cousin, and 
 was invisible thereafter the men sitting
 
 together till midnight in the large, raftered A Vlr- 
 hall, with a fire in its wide chimney, that ginla 
 served the old bachelor for a general liv- Cousin 
 ing-room. 
 
 Vance could not remember to have 
 seen a face of finer lines, a manner of 
 finer courtesy, than that of his seventy- 
 year-old host, who, in spite of the rust of 
 desuetude in worldly ways, carried his 
 inbred gentility where all who approached 
 him might profit by it. 
 
 That he was a politician went without 
 saying ; and, indeed, the talk once directed 
 in the channel of national government had 
 kept there until they separated. On a 
 claw-footed table holding a lamp beside 
 Mr. Lloyd's easy chair, covered with 
 frayed haircloth, Vance saw lying a crisp 
 new Review of English publication, and 
 all about were piled newspapers and mag- 
 azines, while shelves displayed row upon 
 row of the antique, tawny volumes that 
 had made up the complete library of a 
 country gentleman in the days of old Jose- 
 phus's grandfather. 
 
 Around the hearth, coming and going 
 with every opening of many doors, gath- 
 
 [5J]
 
 A Vir- ered dogs of fine and varied breeds. One 
 ginia old patriarch of a St. Bernard, who at- 
 Cousin tached himself particularly to the stran- 
 ger, had remained close to Vance's feet, 
 and gravely escorted him to bed. 
 
 In his kinsman, Guy Carlyle, a hand- 
 some man of fifty odd years, who in a 
 military youth had been noted for deeds of 
 daring that rang through the army of 
 Northern Virginia, but had long since 
 resigned himself to the peaceful pursuits 
 of agriculture, Vance saw the origin of 
 Eve's rare beauty. He also became 
 aware that, of a large family of sons and 
 daughters born to the now widowed Colo- 
 nel, Eve was the sole survivor ; and it did 
 not need the expression that irradiated her 
 father's face when her name was touched 
 upon to show in what estimation she was 
 held by him. 
 
 The tinge of melancholy in Mr. Car- 
 lyle's manner had, however, no effect like 
 repression of the cordial friendliness he 
 extended to the newcomer. Vance had 
 gone to rest with a feeling that he had 
 conferred a genuine favor upon his two
 
 elders by according to them, as he had, A V'tr- 
 his company. ginia 
 
 Spite of these conditions of good-fel- Cousin 
 lowship, he awoke next morning con- 
 scious that there was one under the roof 
 with him who had the power (and no de- 
 sire to withhold it) to make him far from 
 comfortable ; to puzzle him, to banter 
 him, to pull him up with a jerk at the 
 moment he might feel that he was getting 
 reasonably ahead with her; to punish him, 
 it would appear, for some offence he could 
 not own to having committed. 
 
 It was very clear that Eve thought him 
 a poor fellow, mentally and morally ; that, 
 apart from her specific grudge against him, 
 of nature unknown, she was not in the 
 least inclined to pay tribute to his position, 
 fashion, culture, wealth, the appendages 
 of Vance Townsend's personality people 
 around him had always been disposed to 
 make so much of. In the firmament of 
 American society, he took himself to be 
 a planet of first importance. In other 
 lands, he had enjoyed more than a reason- 
 able share of social success. Why should 
 he here, for the first time in his life, feel 
 
 [55]
 
 A Vir- like a man coming in fancy costume to a 
 ginia dinner where all the other guests wore 
 Cousin plain clothes ? 
 
 It must be the doing of that girl. STie 
 it was who, with a few words, a cool 
 glance or two that appeared to read his 
 soul, had brought him into this strait ; and 
 Vance was still young enough to feel him- 
 self flame with resentment of her. Then 
 fell upon his mental ear the soft cadence 
 of her voice, asking his pardon for having 
 possibly misjudged him, and his anger 
 passed. 
 
 As from Eve he went on to think of 
 Kitty Ainger, now Mrs. Crawford, Vance 
 was surprised at the freedom from sore- 
 ness the reflection left upon his mind. 
 Mrs. Crawford, he even reflected, was 
 really an admirable woman just the wife, 
 as everybody had said, for a rising fellow 
 like Crawford, who would surely reach 
 the top ! She had shown her good sense in 
 taking him. Was it possible Vance had 
 ever thought anything else ? 
 
 On a table near the bed lay the con- 
 tents of a pocket emptied overnight 
 among them a folded paper, inscribed with 
 
 [5*]
 
 the latest and most satisfactory draft of A V'tr- 
 his verses to Kitty. This he now seized, ginia 
 and, upon re-reading it, a flush that was Cousin 
 not of tender consciousness overspread his 
 face. Regardless of the loss to the world 
 of poetry, ignoring the recurrent efforts 
 that Calliope had witnessed, he deliber- 
 ately tore it up, and went to the open win- 
 dow prepared to scatter the tiny remnants 
 upon a matin beeeze. 
 
 A view of wide green plains, with here 
 and there a clump of noble trees, of soar- 
 ing blue hills beyond them, all shining in 
 the morning sun, met his eye ; and almost 
 directly beneath his window were a couple 
 of horses, of which one was bestridden 
 by old Josephus, in a nankeen coat and 
 venerable Panama hat ; the other, little 
 more than a colt, was held by a negro and 
 saddled for a woman's use. 
 
 " Lady-love ! Lady-love, I say ! " called 
 out the old gentleman, in a voice of 
 Stentor. 
 
 " Coming, coming, come ! " gaily an- 
 swered somebody ; and in a moment 
 Vance's Cousin Eve appeared. 
 
 Springing lightly upon the segment of 
 
 [57]
 
 A fir- an enormous tree that served as horse- 
 ginia block, she dropped into her saddle, and 
 Cousin devoted herself to subduing the juvenile 
 remonstrance of her steed. 
 
 With the fragments of his effusion to 
 Kitty Ainger still in hand, Vance felt a 
 curious sensation, as though the old world 
 had suddenly become young and beautiful 
 and tuneful ; and then, from his ambush, 
 he heard Josephus say : 
 
 " I 'd half a mind to rouse up our vis- 
 itor, and take him with us to see the sheep 
 in Six-Acre Lot. The ride before break- 
 fast would have given him a good idea of 
 the way my land lies." 
 
 " O Cousin Josey, I am so thankful 
 you did not 1 " answered Eve, with sin- 
 cerity unmistakable. 
 
 u Tut, tut, my dear child," began Mr. 
 Lloyd, rebukingly ; but Eve, who just then 
 succeeded in starting her colt in the right 
 direction, was off and away, sending back 
 a trill of laughter to her ancient cavalier, 
 who made good speed to follow her. 
 
 The new conviction of his folly in hav- 
 ing agreed to remain under the same shel- 
 ter with Miss Carlyle did not prevent Mr.
 
 Townsend from making his appearance A Vir- 
 with an excellent appetite at the breakfast- ginia 
 table, whither he was duly escorted by Cousin 
 Bravo, the old dog he had found outside 
 his bedroom door waiting to take him in 
 charge. 
 
 With Bravo and another dog or two at 
 heel, Vance had walked off his pique over 
 dew-washed slopes of short, rich grass to 
 a summit near the house, to be joined on 
 the return by Colonel Carlyle, who had 
 strolled out to meet him. 
 
 Breakfasts at Wheatlands were justly 
 considered the chefs cTceuvre of old Josey's 
 cook. Vance, helping himself to quickly 
 succeeding dainties seen for the first time, 
 cast a mental glance backward to the egg 
 and a cup of tea that formed his accus- 
 tomed meal at home. Half-way in the 
 repast, Eve, who had been changing her 
 habit to a pretty cotton gown, slipped into 
 place between her father and the widow, 
 who was pouring out the coffee. 
 
 u What ! What ! " said Cousin Josey, 
 detecting her absence from a seat at his 
 side, that would have brought her face to 
 face with Townsend. " My Lady-love 
 
 [5?]
 
 A Vir- desert me like that ? Come back, little 
 ginia runaway, and see your Cousin Vance taste 
 Cousin his first mouthful of a Wheatlands ham ! " 
 Thus adjured, Eve could but take the 
 seat indicated ; and Vance, who had deter- 
 mined to be no longer oppressed by so 
 small and pink a person, bestowed on her 
 an openly admiring glance that angered 
 her anew. 
 
 " We must leave you to Eve's mercies 
 this morning, Mr. Townsend," observed 
 their host, at the conclusion of the repast. 
 " Carlyle and I have promised to ride over 
 to the County Court to hear a case tried, 
 and to call on the Judge, who is an old 
 college chum of the Colonel's. We shall 
 be home to dinner at two, and you young 
 people must entertain each other until 
 then." 
 
 " Could you not manage not to show 
 so plainly what you feel ? " asked Vance 
 in his cousin's little ear, as they left the 
 table. " Pray believe that I am not a 
 party to the infliction put upon you." 
 
 They had strolled bareheaded out under 
 
 the trees shading the lawn about the house. 
 
 " Shall we never have done quarrelling ? "
 
 said Eve, wearily. u Just as I think I A Vir- 
 begin to feel kindly toward you, something ginia 
 happens, and I break down again." Cousin 
 
 " Were we not moderately successful 
 last night, when I assumed to be somebody 
 else ? " he asked. 
 
 " Yes ; that is better. I will treat you 
 as I would any other man stopping here 
 any one not of your exalted class, I mean." 
 
 " That was a quite unnecessary taunt. 
 But I will allow it to pass if you agree for 
 to-day until the gentlemen return to 
 treat me as you would Mr. Ralph Corbin, 
 for example." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " she asked, 
 quickly. " Ralph is the dearest, most 
 obliging cousin I have, and I impose upon 
 him dreadfully. If he were here, I should 
 begin by sending him indoors to fetch my 
 hat and parasol from the hall rack, and a 
 new magazine I left in the window-seat, 
 and tell him to call the dogs to come with 
 us What! you can't intend to conde- 
 scend to wait upon a mere girl, a country 
 cousin ? " 
 
 He was off and back again with the 
 articles demanded, showing no enmity in
 
 A Fir- the smile offered with them to her accept- 
 glnia ance. But he did not at once surrender 
 Cousin the periodical, or until he had satisfied him- 
 self of the contents of the page held open 
 by a marker of beaten silver. 
 
 " You don't mind my looking at what 
 you read ? " he asked. 
 
 " If you like. It is some verses not 
 what you would care for, in the least, but 
 they have given me great pleasure." 
 
 A glance showed him that his suspicion 
 was correct. The stanzas in question 
 had been written by him some months 
 before, and sent, unsigned, to the editor. 
 
 " Will you tell me what you fancy in 
 these ? " he said, with fine indifference of 
 manner. 
 
 " Why does one like a flower, or wor- 
 ship a star ? They suit me, I suppose, 
 and I am learning them by heart." 
 
 His own heart throbbed with a school- 
 boy's glee and pride. But he said noth- 
 ing, and walked beside her light figure, in 
 the round of garden and orchard, bringing 
 up in the stable-yard. Here, a space 
 paved with grass-grown cobblestones was 
 bounded on three sides by frame structures,
 
 now, in their decay, as gray and as fragile- A Vir- 
 looking as hornets' nests. ginia 
 
 " And the little house built of lime- Cousin 
 stone, with one window, was put up in 
 Colonial days, for refuge in case of an 
 Indian raid. Mr. Lloyd will tell you one 
 of his best stories, about an adventure of 
 his ancestor in there, when three white 
 men successfully resisted a band of red- 
 skins. Perhaps our aboriginal anecdotes 
 would bore you, however. If so, give us 
 only a little hint, and we desist. Now, 
 shan't we go in and see your horses ? " 
 
 She lifted the latch ; Vance followed her, 
 past stalls where the occupants gave her 
 immediate recognition, to those in which 
 his own pair were comfortably ensconced. 
 Merrylad, ungallant fellow, would have 
 none of the young lady, but at the touch 
 and voice of his master, turned his beauti- 
 ful head sidewise to lay it upon Vance's 
 shoulder with affection. 
 
 " I am, at last, an illustration of the 
 legend, c Some one to love me,' " he said, 
 laughing. " So you thought I had for- 
 saken you, old man ? Not I, my beauty. 
 Gently, gently, you are too demonstrative."
 
 ^ yir- " 1 can't imagine life without horses 
 ginia and dogs j can you ? " she said, with the 
 Cousin quickly growing comradeship of a child. 
 " There ; I was determined that Merry- 
 lad should let me stroke his neck ! " 
 
 From the stables, whose inmates seemed 
 to have put them upon a better footing, 
 they passed again under the pink-blos- 
 somed arcades of an apple-orchard, to 
 pause beside a curious indentation, like a 
 dimple, in the turf. 
 
 " Just here," began Evelyn, " but I 
 shall not tell you, unless you promise to 
 be properly impressed, a sad fate over- 
 came a dishonest negro servant of Mr. 
 Lloyd's ancestor. He the servant, I 
 mean was a fellow much given to acro- 
 batic feats, and was accustomed to divert 
 his master's guests by tumbling and turn- 
 ing cart-wheels. One day, he robbed 
 old Mr. Lloyd's money-chest, and filling 
 his pockets, went out in the orchard, and 
 testified his glee by standing on his head." 
 
 " What happened ? Evidently some- 
 thing of a supernatural nature." 
 
 " The earth opened, and out came a 
 great hairy red hand," said Eve, " (I am
 
 telling it to you as my nurse told it to me) A Vir- 
 and c cotched him by de hayde, and drawed ginia 
 him down.' " Cousin 
 
 " What evidence do they offer of this 
 event ? " 
 
 " That is the thrilling part. About 
 fifty years ago, when the present owner 
 was just of age, some men at work in 
 this place dug up a treasure of golden 
 4 cob-coins,' clipped here and there to reg- 
 ulate their value, as the custom was in 
 olden days. And there, wedged in the 
 earth where the gold lay scattered, was 
 the skeleton of a man standing upon his 
 head ! " 
 
 u Proof positive," said Vance, laughing. 
 
 " I thought I should convince you. As 
 an actual fact, the coins brought six hun- 
 dred dollars at the Philadelphia mint, 
 and the money was distributed among the 
 finders." 
 
 " Imagine how many darkeys have 
 stolen out here, since, to work at night 
 with pick and shovel ! I suppose that 
 accounts for the depression of the sod." 
 
 " I myself found a George II. coin in 
 the garden yesterday. See ! If I were to
 
 A Fir- give it to you, do you think it would bind 
 gima you to continue to be 4 some one else,' 
 Cousin during the rest of your stay with us ? " 
 
 He took the bit of copper she held out, 
 wondering, as he had done the night 
 before, whether this kindly mood meant 
 coquetry, then deciding it was but the 
 frolic spirit of a wholesome and untram- 
 melled youth not to be restrained. What- 
 ever it meant, he would profit by it. A 
 creature so bright, so impulsive as this, 
 his new-found cousin, was not within his 
 ken, even if the occasional prick of her 
 wit did keep him in an attitude of self- 
 defence. 
 
 " Her cheeks are true apple-blossoms," 
 he found himself murmuring, irrelevantly, 
 as he pursued her through the tunnel of 
 orchard boughs. " But her lips what ? 
 Ah! bard beloved, I thank you 4 Her 
 mouth a crimson flower.' That 's it. 
 4 Her mouth a crimson flower.' " 
 
 " What are you talking about, back 
 there ? " exclaimed his guide, turning 
 sharply to call him to account. 
 
 " Did I speak aloud ? I was ah 
 [66]
 
 only wondering where we are going to A Vir- 
 bring up ? " ginia 
 
 44 Do I tire you ? Perhaps you are not Cousin 
 used to walking. Never mind ; we shall 
 soon reach the graveyard, and then you 
 can sit upon the stone wall and rest." 
 
 " I think I can last to the graveyard," 
 meekly said the young man, whose tramps 
 in the Alps and Dolomites and Rockies 
 had included of "broken records" not a 
 few. 
 
 " Now, you are laughing at me," she 
 said, suspiciously. " But you know I have 
 never heard of you except as a lounger in 
 clubs and a leader of cotillons" 
 
 Vance thought it useless to protest. 
 
 They now reached an enclosure under 
 a grove of maples, where, motioning him 
 to sit upon a low wall tapestried with moss 
 and fern and creepers, she perched upon 
 the gnarled root of a tree, and, opening 
 her book, prepared to become absorbed 
 in it. 
 
 " Suppose you read aloud to me," he 
 suggested, with cunning aforethought. 
 
 44 This ? " she said, doubtfully, survey-
 
 A Vir- ing his verses. " Oh, no; I think not. 
 gima You would hardly care for this. It is 
 Cousin something quite out of your line, don't 
 you see ? The writer gives expression to 
 a perfectly straightforward, yet eloquent, 
 expression of a true man's true feeling, 
 about a thing of every day. It is not only 
 that the words are lovely and the sentiment 
 is noble, but the measure ripples like a 
 stream Why, what is the matter with 
 you ? One would think you know the 
 author." 
 
 u I am afraid, upon reflection, that I do 
 not know the author," he said, drawing 
 back into his shell. 
 
 " If you did, I should get you to thank 
 him for me for this," she resumed. 
 " They say authors are always disappoint- 
 ing to meet, after one has idealized them 
 through their writings. But be would not 
 be. No ; I would trust him, through 
 everything, to be a noble gentleman. Of 
 course he is unworldly. I believe he lives 
 in a. remote Territory, and despises petty 
 conventionalities of society, especially those 
 in New York. And I think he never even 
 heard of that dreadful 400 of yours."
 
 Vance, smiling at her girlish nonsense, A Vir- 
 felt himself, nevertheless, lapped in the ginla 
 Elysium of her speech. Cousin 
 
 Then her mood changed to pathos, as 
 she told him the story of" Cousin Josey's" 
 single episode of love, ending in the mound 
 beside them, where slept the old man's 
 bride-betrothed of seventeen, a ward of 
 his mother, who had died of a tragic 
 accident, forty years agone. 
 
 " And every day, since, he has come 
 here. See, there are fresh wood-violets 
 upon her breast. And the dear old man 
 has never thought of such a thing as giv- 
 ing her a successor. Now, let us go. 
 There are lambs to show you, and a lot 
 of other things." 
 
 The passing cloud was gone from her 
 April face. She was again radiant, and in 
 some bedazzlement of mind he arose and 
 followed her. 
 
 Townsend's acquaintance with his Vir- 
 ginia cousins had, as might have been 
 expected, prolonged itself into a visit to 
 Carlyle Hall ; and he was on the eve of 
 departure, after a stay of two weeks in
 
 A Vir- that delightful refuge, before he realized 
 ginia how much his fancy had begun to twine 
 Cousin around the place and its inmates. 
 
 Sentiment for the young creature who 
 was its ruling spirit he did not admit, other 
 than the natural tribute of his age and sex 
 to hers. Nor did he give her credit for 
 more than temporary feeling on any point 
 disconnected with her strong local attach 
 ments. Her father, her home, and those 
 she grandiosely called her " people " 
 meaning, he supposed, the individuals in- 
 debted to Providence for having been born 
 within the limits of her State were the 
 objects of Eve's warm affection. 
 
 Vance felt sure her courteous thought 
 of him was the result of only transmitted 
 consideration for a guest. So soon as he 
 should quit the pleasant precincts of the 
 Hall, he feared he must put aside his claim 
 to even this consideration. This condition 
 of affairs worried our young man more 
 than he cared to admit to himself. To no 
 one else would he have confessed that the 
 fortnight had been spent by him in a daily 
 effort to impress upon her a personality 
 widely different from her conception of it.
 
 ^ 
 
 ^% 
 
 Now, at the end of his enterprise, he was A Vir- 
 conscious that he had not advanced in the ginia 
 endeavor ; and this last evening in her Cousin 
 company was correspondingly depressing 
 to his amour propre. 
 
 They were sitting together in a win- 
 dow-seat of the drawing-room, looking 
 into an old-world garden with box walks, 
 a sun-dial, and a blaze of tulips piercing 
 the brown mold. From the western sky, 
 facing them, the red light was vanishing, 
 and in the large, dim room a couple of 
 lamps made islands of radiance in a sea of 
 shadows. In the library, adjoining, sat 
 the Colonel, reading, his strong, handsome 
 head seen in profile from where they were. 
 
 Sounds of evening in the country, the 
 whistle of a negro in the distance, 
 alone broke the spell of silence brooding 
 over the old house. Vance hesitated to 
 further disturb it, the more so that Evelyn 
 had been in a mood of unusual gracious- 
 ness. Nor did he, in truth, feel prepared 
 to broach the discussion of certain things 
 he had put off until now. 
 
 " To-morrow," he said at last, with a 
 genuine sigh, " I shall be on my way
 
 A Vir- northward, and this beautiful, restful life 
 gima will be among my has-beens." 
 Cousin " Too restful, I 'm afraid," she cried, in 
 her brusque, schoolgirl fashion. u Your 
 Aunt Myrtle always speaks of Virginia as 
 nothing but a c cure,' which she is clearly 
 glad to have accomplished and lived 
 down." 
 
 " It has been a cure for me in another 
 sense. I wonder if you know what you 
 have done for me ? " 
 
 " I ? " 
 
 " Yes. Don't fence with me now. 
 For once, believe in your cousin, who is, 
 after this, going to leave you for a long 
 time in peace. Tell me ; when I shall 
 have gone, and that big, comfortable 
 4 spare room ' is put in order again for the 
 next guest, shall you sometimes think of 
 the subject of your missionary labors in 
 the past two weeks ? " 
 
 41 But I have never undertaken to 
 reform you," she said, in a vexed tone. 
 " It is absurd for you to think I imagined 
 myself capable of that. The best I could 
 hope for was that your visit should pass 
 without o\ir coming to open conflict.
 
 Papa could tell you I promised him to try A Vir- 
 that this should be so." ginia 
 
 " Then I am indebted to your father Cousin 
 for the modicum of personal consideration 
 you have vouchsafed me ? " ' 
 
 "And Cousin Josey yes," she an- 
 swered, with startling candor. " At the 
 same time, I must say, I like you now 
 better than I believed I ever could. It 
 makes me wish with all my heart I could 
 trust you." 
 
 Vance felt a sting that was not all 
 resentment, or all pain. The expression 
 of her eyes, so fearless, so intense, waked 
 in him a feeling that, in the moment they 
 had reached, he desired nothing so much 
 in all the world as to win this " mere 
 girl's " approval. The color deepened in 
 his face, as he said : 
 
 " And yet you have given the author of 
 those verses, who happens to be myself, 
 credit for something in which you could 
 place faith ? " 
 
 " You you ? " she exclaimed, starting 
 violently. " Ah no ! Don't destroy my 
 ideals." 
 
 " This may be wholesome, but it is 
 
 [7J]
 
 A Vir- certainly not pleasant," he said, praying 
 
 gin'ia Heaven for patience. 
 
 Cousin There was nothing of her customary 
 light spirit of bravado in the manner in 
 which, after a pause, she next spoke to 
 him. 
 
 " I hardly know how for the sake of 
 others, I mean, not on my own account 
 to ask if it is possible you have not, in 
 connection with me, given a thought to 
 one who was my daily, intimate companion 
 all of last winter." 
 
 " That ! " he interrupted, with a dry 
 laugh. " Why not arraign her for the 
 wreck of me ? " 
 
 " You understand me, I see," she said, 
 with meaning. " Let me say this, then : 
 that I hold a trifler with women's hearts 
 to be the most despicable of characters. 
 A man who is too indolent or too infirm 
 of purpose to deny himself the pleasure 
 he gets from watching his progress in a 
 girl's affections is an offender the law 
 may n't reach, but he deserves it should. 
 That he makes his victim old before her 
 time, in his gradual, refined disappoint- 
 ment of her hopes, may not count for
 
 much, in your estimation. But but A Vir- 
 oh ! I could not have believed it of the ginia 
 person who wrote those verses ! " Cousin 
 
 There were tears in her honest eyes, a 
 tremor in her young voice. Save for 
 these, Vance, who had walked away from 
 her a dozen steps, would have continued 
 to put distance between himself and this 
 " angel at the gate." 
 
 As it was, he controlled himself suffi- 
 ciently to return and say, in a hard, 
 strained voice : 
 
 " I shall not attempt to change your 
 estimate of me. But I am glad you have 
 given me an opportunity to tell you that 
 on the day I saw you first, I went directly 
 from my aunt's house to ask {Catherine 
 Ainger to be my wife. Some day, when 
 you are older, and know more of the 
 world, and take broader views of poor 
 hunfahity, all these things may seem to 
 you different. Then you may, perhaps, 
 admit that, with all my faults, I could 
 never be such a cad as you have pictured. 
 In the little time that we are together 
 now, please, let us say no more about it." 
 
 He walked away, joining the Colonel,
 
 A Vir- to engage that unsuspecting gentleman in 
 ginia an exhaustive discussion of politics. 
 Cousin Eve sat for awhile in her dusky corner, 
 absorbed in thought. She had decided to 
 say a few words to him, before he should 
 go, that might contribute to her relief 
 rather than his. But Vance gave her no 
 opportunity to speak any words to him, 
 except those of conventional farewell. 
 Betimes, next morning, he took leave of 
 his cousins ; and the Virginia episode was 
 over. 
 
 After he had left, Eve locked herself in 
 her room, and gave way to a burst of 
 tears.
 
 Chapter IV 
 
 IN a railway carriage that had long before A Vir- 
 left Genoa with the ultimate intention ginia 
 of getting into Rome, a girl sat, tranced Cousin 
 in satisfaction, looking from the window, 
 throughout an afternoon of spring. To 
 speed thus leisurely between succeeding 
 pictures of a scenery and life she seemed 
 to recognize from some prior state of ex- 
 istence although now, in fact, seen for 
 the first time was a joy sufficient to an- 
 nihilate fatigue. 
 
 The milk-white oxen ploughing the red 
 fields ; the peasant women at work amid 
 young vines ; the sheets of wild flowers ; 
 the pink and white and blue-washed villas, 
 with their terraces and palms and flower- 
 pots ; the hedges of roses, and groves of 
 olive and eucalyptus ; above all, the classic 
 names of stations, albeit placarded in a 
 commonplace way, made Miss Evelyn 
 Carlyle, lately a passenger of a steamer 
 
 [77]
 
 A Vlr- arriving at Genoa from America, turn and 
 ginia twist from side to side of the carriage, and 
 Cousin flush and thrill with satisfaction, after a 
 fashion causing her father, who accom- 
 panied her, to rejoice that they occupied 
 their apartment undisturbed. 
 
 As evening closed upon the scene, she 
 at last consented to throw her head back 
 upon the cushion of the seat, and admit 
 she was a prey to the mortal consider- 
 ation of exceeding hunger. Since leav- 
 ing Genoa, a roll and some cakes of choc- 
 olate, only, had supplied the luncheon for 
 a journey of ten hours. Therefore, when 
 the train, stopping after dark at a little 
 buffet, was promptly forsaken by its pas- 
 sengers, Eve and her father joined the 
 eager throng craving refreshment at the 
 hands of a perspiring landlord and his 
 inefficient aids. 
 
 " If I could only make these fellows 
 understand, perhaps they would stop to 
 listen," said Colonel Carlyle, growing 
 wroth at the struggling, vociferating, jost- 
 ling crowd massed in a small room, 
 snatching for food like hungry dogs. 
 "Allow me to By Jove, it's the
 
 Colonel ! " said a voice behind him, whose A Vir- 
 possessor was trying to pass on. glnia 
 
 " Ralph Corbin ! Where did you drop Cousin 
 from ? " and, " Ralph, this is too de- 
 lightful ! " were the greetings received by 
 the young man thus unexpectedly encoun- 
 tered. 
 
 " I am on my way from Nice to Rome 
 to meet er some friends who are 
 expected there for the Silver Wedding fes- 
 tivities," said he, with becoming blushes. 
 
 " I know," exclaimed Evelyn, glee- 
 fully. " I was sure they had something 
 to do with it." 
 
 u But it 's uncertain whether they have 
 returned from Greece yet ; and it 's 
 awfully jolly to meet you, anyway, Eve, 
 and the Colonel. Here, let's get some 
 food, and I '11 go in your carriage for the 
 rest of the way, of course. I 'd not an 
 idea you were coming out this year." 
 
 " Nor we, until a fortnight since," said 
 Eve. 
 
 Ralph capturing a supply of bread, and 
 fruit, and roast chicken, they made off 
 with their booty to the train, and the even- 
 ing passed in merry chat and explanation
 
 A Vir- of their plans. Evelyn, however, by no 
 ginia means lost the consciousness of her ad- 
 Cousin vance for the first time upon Rome ; and 
 when, after crossing the Tiber at mid- 
 night, and catching glimpses, on either 
 side the railway, of ruins that heralded 
 their vicinity to the goal of her hopes, 
 she was keyed to high excitement. 
 
 Ralph laughed at her disappointment as 
 the train ran slowly into a large, modern 
 station lighted by electricity, and deco- 
 rated with hangings of gold and crimson, 
 a crimson carpet spread across the plat- 
 form to one of the doors of exit. When 
 they enquired of the facchino who took 
 their bags in charge, what great arrival 
 was expected, the man answered with an 
 indifference worthy of democratic New 
 York : " It is for the Silver Wedding of 
 their Majesties, Signer ; but there are so 
 many Kings and Emperors and Princes in 
 Rome now, we have ceased to take 
 account of them." 
 
 " We have struck Rome at a crowded 
 season," said Ralph, " and I don't know 
 that you are going to like it overmuch. I 
 say, Eve, if Somebody does n't come for
 
 another week or so, what a heaven-send A Vir- 
 you and your father will be to me for ginia 
 company ! " Cousin 
 
 " That is the most cold-blooded way of 
 making use of us to kill time with," said 
 Eve ; but she bestowed on him a well- 
 pleased smile. To her, Ralph had been 
 ever a chum, a dear, good fellow, who 
 was the best of company. His unexpected 
 appearance here promised to add tenfold 
 to her pleasure, while his hopes in the 
 affair hinted at between them had been, 
 for some time, familiar to her in detail. 
 
 " And all this while I have never told 
 you," he went on, in his boyish manner, 
 " that at Nice I fell in with that swell 
 New York cousin of yours, Vance Town- 
 send. Not half a bad chap, if he is 
 rather close-mouthed. Shouldn't won- 
 der if he 's in Rome, now, like everybody 
 else in this part of the world." 
 
 " Townsend ? " said the Colonel, with 
 animation. " Glad to hear there 's a 
 chance of seeing him. Just a year is n't 
 it, Eve ? since he visited us at the Hall. 
 Well, there 's no doubt we are in luck, if 
 we meet Vance as well as you, Ralph."
 
 jl V~ ir . " The funny part of it is," whispered 
 ginia the joyous Ralph to Evelyn, " some of the 
 Comln people we both knew in Nice put it into 
 Townsend's head I was coming here to 
 meet my fiancee. And you know, Eve, I 
 am not engaged to her yet ; her mother 
 put us on probation for six months. The 
 six months are out next week, though, and 
 I don't think it would hurt Maud's mamma 
 to hurry herself a little bit to get here, do 
 you ? How you will admire Maud's style, 
 Evie ! Her hair is dark as " etc., etc., 
 until Evelyn cut it short by jumping into 
 the carriage drawn up in waiting for them. 
 Just now, she was not as well prepared 
 to listen as usual. Certain feelings she 
 had believed extinct proved themselves to 
 have been merely dormant. Even the 
 spectacle of Rome en fete, by night, its 
 bands and fountains playing, its streets 
 still filled with lively promenaders, did not 
 wholly distract her from this sudden tu- 
 mult of an emotion she was not prepared 
 to define. 
 
 Constantly, during the crowded days 
 that followed, while they drove hither and 
 thither, attracted but provoked by the jum- 
 [to]
 
 bling of ancient and modern in these A Vir- 
 haunts of history, she tried to persuade ginia 
 herself she was not ever on the alert to Cousin 
 see somebody who did not appear. For, 
 from among the many acquaintances and 
 a few friends encountered in the streets of 
 the sociable little city, Vance was per- 
 sistently missing. 
 
 Ralph, however, whose sweetheart also 
 kept her distance, proved his philosophy 
 by devoting his days to the Carlyles ; and 
 thus, under a sky blue as the fabled Ely- 
 sian fields of Virgil, the festal week went 
 on. Wherever their Majesties of Italy 
 and Germany passed in public, they were 
 greeted by thoroughfares black with peo- 
 ple, windows and balconies blazing with 
 flags and draperies, the clash of bands and 
 the clank of soldiery. 
 
 The coachman engaged for the service 
 of our friends would contrive, wherever 
 bound, to take on the way some passing 
 show of sovereigns ; and, upon a certain 
 fair day, for no reason avowed, he drove 
 them into the tangle of vehicles and peo- 
 ple always seen surrounding the doors of 
 the Quirinal Palace whenever there was a
 
 A Vir- chance to catch glimpses of royalties upon 
 ginia the move. There ensconced, the saucy, 
 Cousin bright-eyed fellow stood up, pretended his 
 inability to get out of the snarl, gesticu- 
 lated, talked to his friends and threatened 
 his enemies in the crowd, while visibly 
 rejoicing in the opportunity to see all 
 likely to occur in that coveted quarter. 
 
 " Look here, cabby, if you don't move 
 out of this to the Baths of Caracalla in 
 just two minutes and a half," began Ralph, 
 at last, in emphatic English ; but he had 
 no reason to go on, as the driver, seeing 
 the young man's face, gathered up the 
 reins, and extricated himself with much 
 dexterity from the crowd. 
 
 Neither of his passengers noticed that 
 a gentleman, in a carriage just then cross- 
 ing theirs, looked at them, leaned forward, 
 gave orders to his coachman, and at once 
 proceeded to follow on their tracks. 
 
 In the glorious ruin of the greatest of 
 temples to athletic exercise, Evelyn drew 
 a deep breath of delight. Nothing in 
 Rome, not even the Colosseum, had so 
 impressed her with the grandeur of by-
 
 gone achievement in architecture as this A Vir- 
 wondrous pile, with its vast spaces, the ginia 
 gray walls breached by Time, out of Cousin 
 which maidenhair grew and crows were 
 flying "crying to heaven for rain," as 
 the guide poetically explained ; the stately 
 columns of red porphyry grouped around 
 the beautiful mosaic floors ; the lace-like 
 traceries of carven stone ; the niches and 
 pedestals from which marvels of old sculp- 
 ture had been removed ; over all, the air 
 that is gold and balm combined ! 
 
 Evelyn leaned against a column ab- 
 stractedly, while Ralph and her father 
 walked about, discussing with their guide 
 facts and statistics of the Thermae. They 
 had indeed strolled quite out of her sight, 
 when a shadow on the pavement beside 
 her caused her to look up. If an answer 
 to thought be no surprise, then was not 
 Evelyn surprised ; for the person confront- 
 ing her was Vance Townsend. 
 
 " I have known that you were in Rome 
 ever since the night you arrived," he said, 
 without preamble other than coldly offer- 
 ing her his hand. " I happened to be at
 
 A Vir- the station to meet an English friend, when 
 gin'ia you came out ; and I saw you get into your 
 Cousin carriage and drive away." 
 
 " Then you can hardly claim to have 
 earned a welcome from us, now," she be- 
 gan to say, lightly, but found it impossible 
 to go on, checked by the look upon his 
 face. 
 
 " I make no pretences," he said, bit- 
 terly. " If you care to know that I have 
 either kept you in view every day since, or 
 else have gone for long rides into the coun- 
 try, where I saw nobody, it is quite true. 
 I have done everything foolish, everything 
 foreign to my principles and habits, to sat- 
 isfy, or to get away from, the feeling the 
 sight of you aroused in me. I wonder 
 what you'd think, if I told you I 've been 
 wandering about pretty much ever since I 
 parted with you, a year ago, trying to get 
 you out of my head. Many 's the letter 
 I 've written to you and destroyed. Twice 
 I set out to see you, and once I got back 
 into the neighborhood of your home. 
 When I saw you in the crowd at the sta- 
 tion here, I actually thought I was pos-
 
 sessed " He checked himself. "I beg A Vir- 
 your pardon. I have no right to say these ginia 
 things to you, I know." Cousin 
 
 " You ? You ? " she could only repeat, 
 bewildered by the meaning in his tone and 
 the expression of his eyes. " Is it possi- 
 ble that you " 
 
 " That I fell in love with you that time 
 when you were holding me to account for 
 a thousand transgressions, committed or not 
 committed ? Yes, it is quite possible. That 
 need not prevent our remaining good 
 friends, need it ? I hope I 've too much 
 common sense to ask you to indulge in a 
 discussion of these points, now ; during the 
 past week, I 've been engaged continually, 
 and I trust with some success, in disposing 
 of the last remnant of hope I may have 
 cherished that some day things might work 
 around to give me at least a chance." 
 
 " You make me very unhappy," she ex- 
 claimed. 
 
 " That is far from my wish," he said, 
 more gently. " Just at present you ought 
 to be walking on roses. There ! Your 
 father and Corbin are coming back this
 
 A Vir- way. I want to ask you to help me to 
 ginia excuse myself in your good father's sight, 
 Cousin if I seem unsociable." 
 
 " One word," she said, the blood flam- 
 ing into her cheeks. " It is due you to 
 know that long ago, soon after you left us, 
 I received a letter from Katherine Craw- 
 ford, a letter that made me understand 
 many things I had judged harshly in your 
 conduct." 
 
 " Mrs. Crawford has been always kind 
 to me," he answered. " And no one re- 
 joices more than I in her present happi- 
 ness." 
 
 " Yes, she is happy, perfectly so, 
 and her life is full of the duties that best 
 suit her. She says it was all planned out 
 for her by Providence, and kept in reserve 
 until she was fit for it." 
 
 " So runs the world away ! " he ex- 
 claimed, with a whimsical gesture. 
 
 After that, the others came, and there 
 was much talk of the subjects naturally 
 presenting themselves. When they moved 
 out of the enclosure to go to the carriage, 
 Vance walked with the Colonel, following 
 Evelyn and Ralph. 
 
 [JW]
 
 " You will dine with us at our hotel A Vir- 
 this evening ? " said the older man, at ginia 
 parting. Cousin 
 
 " I am sorry that I am engaged," Vance 
 answered, with appropriate courtesy, "and 
 that to-morrow I am off for Sicily. Some- 
 time, later on in your wanderings, I shall 
 hope to run upon you again. This is the 
 worst of pleasant meetings in travel, is it 
 not ? " 
 
 When they were seated in the victoria, 
 he shook Evelyn's hand last. 
 
 The day was finally at hand that was to 
 bring Ralph's sweetheart with her inci- 
 dental father, mother, two younger sisters, 
 and a governess to the quarters engaged 
 for them at Rome. In the young man's 
 enthusiasm, he did not forget to wonder 
 what cloud had passed over his Cousin 
 Evelyn's enjoyment of the place, the sights, 
 the season. He even consulted the Colonel 
 as to whether Eve might not be unduly af- 
 fected by the crowded condition of the 
 town, and proposed for them to change to 
 a quieter spot. And Eve's father, who 
 had had his own anxieties on this point,
 
 A Vir- prevailed upon her to give up the engage- 
 ginia ments she had made with apparent zest, 
 Cousin and resort to Naples and Sorrento. 
 
 To Naples, accordingly, they went, the 
 faithful Ralph accompanying them, at the 
 cost of a night-journey on his return to 
 Rome for the day that was to see his hap- 
 piness in flower. He drove with them to 
 their hotel, through the interminable streets, 
 lined with palaces and thronged with pau- 
 pers, and saw them ensconced in pleasant 
 quarters facing Vesuvius, whose feather of 
 smoke pointed to good weather. They 
 dined together in a vast salle-a-manger, 
 where, in a gallery, was conducted during 
 their repast a noisy and mirth-provoking 
 concert of fiddlers, mandolins, and guitars, 
 the performers singing, shouting, danc- 
 ing, as they played. There was an hour 
 before his train left, in which, while the 
 Colonel smoked upon the balcony of their 
 sitting-room, Eve walked out upon one of 
 the quays with her cousin ; and this hour 
 Ralph determined to improve. 
 
 In the last day or two, trifles had shown 
 this astute young man that the depression 
 of his cousin (for whom he cherished no
 
 grudge because, a year or two before, he A Vir- 
 had been wild to call her wife, and she ginia 
 would not hear of it) had been coincident Cousin 
 with the meeting in Rome with Town- 
 send. That very morning, he had found 
 at his bankers', had read and put into his 
 pocket, a letter written by Vance on ar- 
 riving at Taormina, which had thrown 
 upon the subject a new and surprising 
 light. Just how to convey his discoveries 
 to Evelyn, the most proud and sensitive 
 of creatures about her sacred feelings, he 
 had not yet decided. 
 
 They talked of the bay, of the moun- 
 tains, of Vesuvius. Calmed and enchanted 
 by the hour and scene, Eve wore her gen- 
 tlest aspect, and Ralph felt emboldened to 
 begin. 
 
 " This is as it should be," he said, with 
 an air of generalizing. " You will go to 
 Sorrento and Amalfi and Capri, and your 
 roses will come back. I shall not forget 
 you, Evie dear, because I am getting what 
 I most want in life. You have always 
 been to me a thing apart, and I 've told 
 Maud so, over and over again. By and 
 by, I shall bring her to the Hall, and let
 
 A Vir- her see you at your best, as its mistress. 
 
 ginia For you are not quite the same over here, 
 
 Cousin Evie, as in Virginia air." 
 
 " Perhaps I am growing old," she said, 
 smiling. " But never mind me. We 
 shall miss you, Ralph, and it will require 
 the greatest heroism to do without you. 
 After this journey, nobody need tell me 
 that c three is trumpery.' We know bet- 
 ter, do we not ? " 
 
 " Why not send for your other cousin 
 to take my place ? " said Ralph, seeing his 
 opportunity. " He is at Taormina, and 
 would come, undoubtedly. I had a letter 
 from him this morning, by the way. The 
 most characteristic letter, just like the 
 man." 
 
 No answer. Ralph felt as he were 
 treading a bridge of glass. 
 
 " To explain it, I should have to go 
 back to the evening of that meeting in 
 the Baths of Caracalla. He came to me 
 at the hotel, and after a friendly chat, just 
 as he was leaving, took occasion to say 
 some uncommonly nice things about my 
 relations with (as I thought) Maud ; so I 
 thanked him, and gushed a little about her,
 
 maybe, in my circumstances, a fellow 's A Vir- 
 excusable, and off he went, I never sus- ginia 
 pecting that he all the time thought I was Cousin 
 going to marry you." 
 
 Here Ralph was rewarded by a genuine 
 start and a blush, but still Eve did not 
 speak. 
 
 " A day later," Ralph went on, deter- 
 mined now to do or die, " something I 
 recalled of our conversation made me 
 realize the mistake he was under, and I 
 wrote him a letter explaining it. Such a 
 time as I had to find his whereabouts ! 
 His banker had no instructions to forward 
 anything, and I won't tell you all the ups 
 and downs of trying to get at him. Fi- 
 nally, in despair, I sent the letter, on the 
 chance, to Taormina, and from there he 
 answered me." 
 
 At this point, in revenge for her indif- 
 ference, the diplomatist remained, in his 
 turn, silent, until Eve, who could bear it 
 no longer, turned upon him her beautiful 
 young face, glowing in the evening light 
 with an eager joy. " And and ? " she 
 exclaimed, impetuously. 
 
 " He is a good sort Townsend," 
 
 [PJ]
 
 A Vir- went on Ralph, reflectively. " I 've an 
 ginia idea, Evie, that if you and he could have 
 Cousin managed to hit it off, you would have 
 suited each other capitally. He would be 
 the kind likely to settle down into a coun- 
 try gentleman, too ; and you would never 
 be happy in town. He has brains and a 
 heart, in addition to his good looks and 
 manners, and a restrained force of charac- 
 ter that would be an excellent balance for 
 this little impulsive lady, whose only fault 
 is that she jumps at conclusions instead of 
 working to them." 
 
 u You are perfectly right about that, 
 Ralph," she said, laughing away a strong 
 desire to cry. " I am learning wisdom, 
 however, with rapidly advancing years. 
 And you do only justice to my Cousin 
 Vance, in your estimate of him. No 
 doubt," here she swallowed a nervous 
 catch in her voice, " if he tcld the truth 
 in his letter, he congratulated you upon 
 being allied to some one other than the 
 young person who made his visit to Vir- 
 ginia last year a very hard test of patience, 
 to say no more." 
 
 She stopped, and tried to turn away her
 
 head. But Ralph, looking her gently in A Vir- 
 the face, read there what gave him cour- ginia 
 age to launch the last arrow in his quiver. Cousin 
 
 " Whatever he said, I saw through it, 
 Evie dear. And I I could not wait to 
 write an answer. I telegraphed my ad- 
 vice to come to Naples as fast as steam 
 can carry him." 
 
 Shortly after her conversation upon the 
 quay with Ralph ( who, returning to 
 Rome, had been duly translated into an- 
 ticipated bliss ), Eve and her father took 
 advantage of a perfect Sunday for the ex- 
 cursion up Mount Vesuvius. 
 
 In a landau with two horses, a third 
 to be annexed on the ascent, they trav- 
 ersed the long street formed by the vil- 
 lages of San Giovanni, La Barra, Portici, 
 and Resina, stretching from the parent 
 city a street suggesting in the matter of 
 population a series of scattered ant-hills. 
 Such a merry, dirty, shameless horde of 
 all ages, who, abandoning the dens they 
 called homes, had issued forth under the 
 sun blazing even at that early hour of 
 morning in his vault of blue, to bivouac
 
 A Vir- in the open highway, was never seen ! 
 ginia Marketing, chaffering, vending, gossiping, 
 Cousin cooking, eating, drinking, performing the 
 rites of religion and of the toilet, the 
 hum of their voices was like the note of 
 some giant insect, It was when a stran- 
 ger's carriage came in sight that the air 
 became suddenly vocal with shrill cries 
 for alms ; vehicles and horses were sur- 
 rounded, escorted by noisy beggars, whose 
 half-naked children offered flowers, or 
 turned somersaults perilously near the 
 wheels. 
 
 Resina passed, they could breathe more 
 freely. The street turmoil was succeeded 
 by the peace of a country road mounting 
 between lava walls, over which glimpses 
 of sea, of deep-red clover in fields, of vine- 
 yard or lemon grove, were finally suc- 
 ceeded by glorious, unobstructed views of 
 the mountains, bay, and city. In the re- 
 gion of recent overflows, they saw the 
 most curious spectacle, to the newcomer, 
 of fertile garden-strips of green, where 
 clung tiny houses, pink or whitewashed, 
 daring the mute monster overhead, while 
 close beside them the mountain-side was
 
 streaked with ominous stains marking the A Vir- 
 spots where other homes had defied him ginia 
 just one day too long. Cousin 
 
 Higher still, in the track of the over- 
 flow of 1872, they experienced the strik- 
 ing effect of entering into a valley of des- 
 olation between walls of living green. 
 Here, the lava in settling had wreathed it- 
 self into the forms of dragons couchant, of 
 huge serpents, and other monstrous shapes 
 that lay entwined as if asleep. Up above, 
 arose the main cone of the crater, smooth 
 as a heap of gun-powder, vast, majestic, 
 cloud-circled ; taking upon itself in the 
 intense light a blooming purple tint; the 
 smoke issuing from its summit now soon 
 melting into space, now showing dense 
 and threatening. 
 
 Evelyn, in whom the novelty as well as 
 beauty of the scene had aroused fresh spirit, 
 looked more like her old self than her 
 fond father had seen her for many a long 
 day. But it is fortunately not given to 
 parents, however solicitous, to see all the 
 workings of young minds ; and the good 
 gentleman would have been indeed sur- 
 prised had he divined the mainspring of 
 
 [P7]
 
 A Vir- her animation. While he was indulging 
 
 ginia in a few mild objections to the length and 
 
 Cousin slowness of the drive, the rapacity of 
 
 wayside beggars, the heat of the sun, etc., 
 
 such as naturally occur to the traveller 
 
 unsupported by sentimental hopes, to our 
 
 young lady the condition of motion was a 
 
 necessity, and the act of getting upward 
 
 a relief. 
 
 For the plain truth was that, since the 
 last talk with Ralph, Evelyn had given 
 rein to a thousand emotions repressed, 
 during the months gone by, with stern 
 self-chiding. 
 
 Until now, recalling the year before 
 when Vance had left her to an unavailing 
 sense of regret for her harsh judgment of 
 him, she had hardly realized what their 
 intercourse together had meant to her. 
 But the period of his visit was, in fact, 
 succeeded by one in which her salt of life 
 had lost its savor ; and Evelyn, to her dis- 
 may, found that her affections had gone 
 from her keeping to this man's, acknowl- 
 edged to have been the suitor of her 
 friend. 
 
 That Katherine had refused Vance,
 
 and straightway married another lover, A Vir- 
 made very little difference to one of Eve's ginia 
 rigid creed in these matters. To her, Cousin 
 love declared was love unchangeable ; 
 with alF her heart she pitied Vance for his 
 disappointment, and blamed herself for 
 having repeatedly wounded him without 
 reason. By means of this mode of argu- 
 ment, she had naturally succeeded in rais- 
 ing Townsend to the pedestal of a mar- 
 tyred hero, which, it may be conceived by 
 those of colder judgment, did not lessen 
 his importance in the girl's imagination. 
 
 As the months had gone on, and she 
 had had nothing from him save packages 
 of books and prints sent according to prom- 
 ise, as to a polite entertainer who is thus 
 agreeably disposed of by the beneficiary 
 of hospitality extended, her feelings had 
 taken on the complexion of hopeless regret 
 for an irrevocable past. What Eve had 
 henceforth to do, according to her own 
 strict ordinance, was to live down the im- 
 pulse that made her give her heart unasked. 
 The stress of these emotions had, in spite 
 of her brave efforts, so worked upon her 
 health that the Colonel, as fond of home
 
 A Vir- as a limpet of his rock, determined to try 
 ginia for her the change of air and experience, 
 Cousin resulting as we have seen. 
 
 And now, on this dazzling day, a " bri- 
 dal of earth and sky " in one of the love- 
 liest spots upon earth, she kept saying to 
 herself, " By to-morrow to-morrow, at 
 latest he will be with me ! And then 
 and then and then ! " 
 
 The carriage halted at a little wayside 
 booth for the sale of wines and fruit. A 
 dark-skinned woman, bearing a tray of 
 glasses, with flasks of the delusive Lachry- 
 mae Cbristi (made from the grapes ripened 
 upon these slopes) came forward to greet 
 them. On Evelyn's side, a hawker, with 
 shells and strings of coral, and coins al- 
 leged to have been found imbedded in the 
 lava near at hand, importuned her. But, 
 rejecting the others, she beckoned to a 
 pretty, bare-legged boy carrying oranges 
 garnished in their own glossy, dark-green 
 leaves; and so busy was she in selecting 
 the best of his refreshing fruit, she hardly 
 observed that another claimant for her 
 attention had appeared close beside the 
 wheel. 
 
 [700]
 
 " Please go away, my good man," she A Vir- 
 said at last, laughingly, without giving him ginia 
 a glance. " Indeed, I want nothing you Cousin 
 can supply." 
 
 " That is a harsh assertion," Vance said, 
 in a low tone meant for her ear, and then 
 proceeded to greet both his cousins out- 
 spokenly. 
 
 He had reached Naples early that morn- 
 ing ; had ascertained at their hotel that they 
 were engaged to start for Vesuvius at a 
 given hour ; fearing collision with a party 
 of strangers, had set out alone to walk up 
 the mountain and take his chance of inter- 
 cepting them ; and had waited here for 
 the purpose. 
 
 " After you had been journeying all 
 night ? " said the Colonel, with unfeigned 
 surprise. " Why, my dear fellow, in your 
 place I should have " 
 
 Just then he intercepted, passing be- 
 tween Evelyn and Vance, a look that 
 startled him. That his sentence remained 
 unfinished nobody observed. The Colo- 
 nel drew back into his corner, as if he had 
 been shot. 
 
 If she had divined her father's feeling, 
 
 [707]
 
 A Vir- Eve could not have pitied any one who 
 ginia was gaining Vance. And Vance, at that 
 Cousin moment, believed all the world to be as 
 happy as himself! 
 
 To a love-affair so obvious, the ending 
 naturally to be expected is of the old- 
 fashioned and inevitable sort. In the 
 beautiful Indian summer of the following 
 autumn in Virginia, these two people were 
 duly married at the Hall. From far and 
 wide came relatives to wish them joy ; it 
 was like the gathering of a Scotch clan at 
 the summons of the pipes. Prominent 
 among the revellers at the dance following 
 the nuptial ceremony was Cousin Josey, 
 who, in a pair of antiquated leather pumps 
 with buckles, led down the middle of a 
 reel with his cherished " Lady-love." To 
 please the old boy, Evelyn had worn the 
 little string of pearls bought by him, years 
 before, for a bride who was never to be. 
 And so everybody was content, and one 
 of the cousins said it was "exactly like a 
 weddin' befo' the wah."
 
 Out of Season
 
 Chapter I 
 
 ; no house-parties till the mid- Out of 
 die of July. Dear knows, what Season 
 with a string of big dinners, my two little 
 dances, and those tiresome Thursdays in 
 January and February when everybody 
 came, I have done all that could be ex- 
 pected by society from paupers like our- 
 selves," said Mrs. Henry Gervase, settling 
 herself in a wicker chair, on the veranda 
 of her country home, and looking approv- 
 ingly at her water-view. 
 
 " Paupers ! " said a lady from a neigh- 
 boring cottage, who had dropped in to call. 
 Mrs. Gervase's friends rarely liked to com- 
 mit themselves to positive comment upon 
 her statements until certain which way the 
 cat was meant to jump. Mrs. Luther 
 Prettyman, the wife of the dry-goods mag- 
 nate, whose good fortune it was to own 
 the land adjoining the Gervase property at 
 Sheepshead Point, a recently famous re- 
 sort for summer visitors on our far eastern
 
 Out of coast, now contented herself with a 
 Season little deprecatory giggle that might mean 
 anything, and waited for Mrs. Gervase to 
 go on. 
 
 " Oh, well ! everything is comparative ; 
 and on the scale by which people measure 
 things in New York, to-day, we are sim- 
 ply grovelling in poverty. John," to 
 her gardener, " you have got that row 
 of myosotis entirely out of line ; and, re- 
 member, nothing but salvia behind the 
 heliotropes. I like a blaze of scarlet and 
 purple against a blue sea-line like this. 
 Heavens ! what a perfect afternoon ! The 
 atmosphere has been clarified, and those 
 birches in the ravine c twinkle with a mil- 
 lion lights.' My dear woman, I make no 
 apologies. Any one who wants me at this 
 season of the year must take me as I am. 
 After eight months of bricks and mortar, 
 dirty streets, and stupid drives in the Park, 
 I am fairly maudlin over Nature when I 
 get her back in June. 
 
 " I went to a concert where Paderewski 
 
 played a night or two before he left 
 
 America ; and I give you my word that 
 
 while the music was going on I put up my 
 
 [106]
 
 fan and plainly heard the babble of this Out of 
 little brook of mine, and the lap of the Season 
 waves over the rocks at high tide, with, 
 now and then, the notes of the song- 
 sparrow that comes back every year and 
 perches on my Norway pine. Somebody 
 said of me afterwards, at supper, that I 
 had been having a little nap. They may 
 say anything of me, I believe, and some 
 idiot will be found to credit it. But please 
 don't accept the newspaper report that I 
 am to have Mr. and Mrs. This, or Mr. 
 That and Mrs. T' other, stopping with me 
 at Stoneacres during June. I am much 
 too busy with my granger-work, and my 
 husband too industrious doing nothing, to 
 play host and hostess now." 
 
 " I did not know; I only thought " 
 ventured Mrs. Prettyman. " You see, 
 everything is so dull here, socially, till 
 August. And when one has a guest com- 
 ing who is accustomed to a great deal of 
 fashionable gaiety, a young lady, a dis- 
 tinguished belle, one naturally grasps at 
 the idea of such pleasant house-parties as 
 yours are known to be, dear Mrs. Ger- 
 vase." 
 
 [707]
 
 Out of " We shall be dull as ditch-water," an- 
 Season swered relentless Mrs. Gervase, turning 
 around to survey the struggle of a fat- 
 breasted robin to extract from the turf a 
 worm that continued to emerge in appar- 
 ently unending length. " And if you will 
 have a girl out of season, why, put her on 
 bread and milk and beauty-sleep, give her 
 plenty of trashy novels and a horse to ride, 
 and she '11 do well enough." 
 
 "But perhaps I am wrong surely 
 Mr. Gervase told Mr. Prettyman, when 
 they were smoking on our veranda last 
 Sunday, that you are expecting your 
 nephew, Mr. Alan Grove." 
 
 "That 's just like Mr. Gervase, a per- 
 fect sieve for secrets," quoth Mrs. Ger- 
 vase, contemptuously; "when I particularly 
 requested him to mention Alan's visit to 
 nobody. The poor boy is completely used 
 up with work, and has engaged to get a 
 paper ready to read before some scientific 
 congress next month, and finds himself 
 unable to write a line of it in town. Here, 
 I have promised him, he may have abso- 
 lute quiet not be called on to play civil- 
 ity or squire-of-dames for any one ; and, I 
 
 [*]
 
 may as well warn you now, he 's not to be Out of 
 expected to do a hand^s turn of entertain- Season 
 ment for your girl. Besides, I happen to 
 know that he can't abide c society ' young 
 women. He is plunged up to the neck in 
 electricity, is poor, ambitious, clever, on 
 the way to sure success ; and I 'm going 
 to back him all I can, not put stumbling- 
 blocks in his path." 
 
 " How plunged up to his neck in elec- 
 tricity ? " asked puzzled Mrs. Prettyman. 
 
 11 Electric law, my good soul ; did you 
 think it a new kind of capital punishment ? 
 The lucrative law of the future, I 've heard 
 wise men say. Simpkins ! " hailing, with 
 irresistible command, a butcher's cart that 
 seemed possessed of a strong desire to 
 drive away in a hurry from a side entrance 
 to the house. " Simpkins ! Oh ! there you 
 are ; I meant to leave orders with the cook 
 not to let you get away again to-day with- 
 out a word from me. I noticed, on the 
 book, that you had the effrontery to charge 
 sixty cents a pound for spring chickens 
 here in June. Now, don't tell me ! The 
 way all you natives do ; you have a short 
 season, and must make the most of it. 
 [/op] 

 
 Out of This is not your season, or my season, 
 Season either. Wait till August before you put 
 on the screws. And your sweetbreads, 
 eighty cents a pair, when you know that 
 when Mr. Gervase and I first came here 
 to live, you were throwing sweetbreads away, 
 till we taught you the use of them ! Now, 
 mind, I shall get tired of sending friends 
 to you to be fleeced in August, if this is 
 what you do to me in June." 
 
 " I must be running off," said Mrs. 
 Prettyman, arising from her spot of shade 
 and luxurious comfort in the deep ve- 
 randa filled, though not encumbered, with 
 picturesque belongings, with stands and 
 pots of blooming plants in every nook. 
 " I '11 declare, nobody's flowers do as well 
 as yours. And the wages we pay our head 
 gardener ! It makes me really envious." 
 This, be it known, was a clever stroke 
 on the part of neighbor Prettyman. Se- 
 cretly resentful of the tepid interest in the 
 personality of her expected guest, who, 
 in the eyes of the house of Prettyman, was 
 an event, she yet did not dare attempt 
 to bring the greater lady to yield sympathy 
 upon the spot. Mrs. Gervase's weakest 
 [770]
 
 side was for her flowers. She possessed Out of 
 the magic touch that alone nurtures them Season 
 to perfection, and with it the proud love 
 of a parent for children that grow inclined 
 according to her will. 
 
 " Hum ! We do pretty well, considering 
 this house is built on the ragged edge of 
 nothing over the sea, and is swept by all 
 the winds of heaven, in turn, and some- 
 times all together. And, in a climate 
 where one goes to bed in the Tropics and 
 wakes up at the North Pole, what would 
 you have ? John, there, though I '11 not 
 set him up by telling him so, has learned 
 all I know about flowers, and picks up 
 new ideas every day. By August, now, 
 these beds and stands will be worth look- 
 ing at. What did you say is the name of 
 the young person who 's coming to stop 
 with you ? If you 've nothing better, sup- 
 pose you and she and Mr. Prettyman come 
 over to dinner Saturday. Alan has prom- 
 ised me not to work at night, and by that 
 time my plants will all be in the ground 
 and my mind at rest." 
 
 " Thank you so much," said the lesser 
 luminary. " It is always a treat to dine
 
 Out of with you en famille ; and it is did n't I 
 Season mention her ? Gladys Eliot who is com- 
 ing to us to-morrow." 
 
 " Gladys Eliot ! Why, she 's gone with 
 her people to London for two months. I 
 saw her name in the Teutonic's list last 
 Thursday. Those Eliots would never in 
 the world let slip another chance for her 
 to make the great match they 've set out 
 to get." 
 
 u Nevertheless," said Mrs. Prettyman, 
 with some show of spirit, " Mrs. Eliot, 
 who is my old school-friend, wrote me, the 
 day before they sailed, that Gladys had 
 taken it into her head to stay behind, and 
 begged me to keep her till her aunt can 
 come up from Baltimore in July and take 
 the girl in charge." 
 
 " Three weeks of Gladys Eliot ! " re- 
 marked Mrs. Gervase. " My poor woman, 
 I pity you. By the end of the month 
 there will be no health in you. A pro- 
 fessional beauty, who has run the gauntlet 
 of four or five years of incessant praises, 
 has been advertised like c Pear's Soap,' in 
 England and America, and has failed to 
 make her coup ! I remember what Alan
 
 Grove said about her no longer ago than Out of 
 Christmas of last year : * 1 have n't the Season 
 advantage of Miss Eliot's acquaintance, 
 but her and her kind I hold in abhorrence, 
 denationalized Americans ; hangers-on 
 of older civilizations that make a puppet- 
 show of them ; spoiled for home, with 
 no rightful place abroad ; restless, craving 
 what no healthy-minded husband of their 
 own kind can give them.' Bless me 
 and those two are going to meet here ! " 
 
 " I think Mr. Alan Grove need not 
 concern himself," said Mrs. Prettyman, 
 driven to bay. " Mrs. Eliot mentioned in 
 her letter that Gladys it is no secret, 
 evidently is nearly, if not quite, en- 
 gaged to marry some one the family feels 
 is in all respects all they could have hoped 
 for her." 
 
 u Then it must be either that Colonel 
 Larkyns, the very rude man with large 
 feet, who walked all over my velvet gown 
 at the Egertons', last winter, came over 
 with Lord Glenmore, whom the Eliots 
 tried for and could n't get, or else Mc- 
 Laughlin, the Irishman who made such a 
 lot of money in Montana. The two men
 
 Out of were running evenly, 't was said. Let me 
 Season think did n't I see her at Claremont on 
 McLaughlin's coach, last month ? Pray, 
 my dear, are we to congratulate you on 
 having Mr. McLaughlin, also, as a mem- 
 ber of your household, before long ? " 
 
 " Oh dear, dear ! " continued the plain- 
 spoken lady to herself, when poor Mrs. 
 Prettyman, fairly routed, had retired with- 
 out honors from the field. " Why is 
 nature so heavenly kind to us in American 
 places of resort, and l only man is vile ' ? 
 Why does this struggle for place, this 
 pride of vogue, these types of our worst 
 social element I hate that word l social,' 
 it sounds vulgar; but what else expresses 
 this for me ? follow one into this earthly 
 Paradise ? Here I have got myself into 
 a pretty kettle of fish with Alan Grove. 
 He will be bored to death and his visit 
 broken up, for we can't rid ourselves 
 of people who sit in our pocket, like 
 the Prettymans in summer ; and he will 
 be running upon this Eliot creature per- 
 petually. If Henry would help me, we 
 might but he is so abominably friendly 
 and cordial with country neighbors, there 's
 
 no hope from him. Besides, if a girl is Out of 
 pretty, it makes no earthly difference to Season 
 my good man whether she is a fiend of 
 calculation and cold-heartedness. I de- 
 clare, I 've no patience with Henry, any- 
 how." 
 
 So saying, Mrs. Gervase went out to 
 drive with the offender in question, behind 
 a pair of sleek cobs, in a little buckboard 
 of tawny wood with russet leather cush- 
 ions and harness, his latest present, 
 and soon, in cheerful companionship, for- 
 got all sorrows amid such views of land 
 and water as Sheepshead Point people 
 think only Sheepshead Point can offer.
 
 Chapter II 
 
 Out of * I V O reach Sheepshead Point, a boat 
 Season A steams daily, and several times a day, 
 from a station on the line of a great railway 
 skirting the eastern Atlantic coast. Issu- 
 ing from a drawing-room car there, a young 
 woman, dressed in a tight-fitting skirt and 
 jacket of sailor blue, with a loose shirt of 
 red silk belted around a taper waist, her 
 small head with its sailor-hat half shrouded 
 from view in a blue tissue veil, walked 
 lightly ahead of Mr. Alan Grove and, 
 attended by an elderly maid, went far for- 
 ward to stand in the bows of the boat. 
 
 Grove, struck by the grace and dis- 
 tinction of her carriage, looked again, and 
 then was conscious of an actual fierce 
 jump of the heart. 
 
 " Can there be two of them ? " he 
 asked of his inner man. " Doctors tell 
 you if you keep your body in good order, 
 and your mind healthily at work, you will 
 never see a ghost and yet that 's the
 
 double of the woman who sailed away Out if 
 from me last Thursday j who's haunted Season 
 me during the six madly misspent weeks 
 since I had the misfortune to be told off 
 to take her in to dinner. Oh ! no, it is n't. 
 Yes, it is by Jove, it is Gladys Eliot." 
 
 He was never so astonished. Believ- 
 ing her to be at that moment on the ocean, 
 nearing British shores, Grove was fairly 
 staggered when Miss Eliot, turning, espied 
 him and, by a graciously easy nod, sum- 
 moned him to her side. Considering the 
 manner of their parting a few weeks back, 
 he wondered at himself for the immediate 
 abjectness of his obedience. 
 
 It was a favorite phrase of Gladys 
 Eliot's admirers to describe her as having 
 a " Duchess of Leinster head and throat." 
 Nature had certainly bestowed upon this 
 daughter of nobody in particular in the 
 Western Hemisphere a pose of a proud 
 little head upon broad, sloping shoulders, 
 as fine as that much-photographed great 
 lady's. She had, in addition, a pair of 
 innocent, Irish-blue eyes and a guileless 
 smile ; a voice, in speaking, that was sweet 
 and low ; and the best or worst manners in 
 
 ["7]
 
 Out of the world, so critics said, according to the 
 Season desirableness of her interlocutor. 
 
 " Mr. Grove ! How perfectly extraor- 
 dinary that you should be here," she 
 exclaimed, giving him the tips of her 
 well-gloved fingers, while the maid and 
 dressing-bag withdrew discreetly into the 
 background. 
 
 " Did you expect me to remain forever 
 on the steps of the Claremont tea-house, 
 like a monument of a city father, to adorn 
 the suburbs of New York ? " 
 
 " You are so quick-tempered, so unrea- 
 sonable ! How should I know you were 
 going to take such dire offence ? But 
 please I can't quarrel away off here, 
 or even justify myself. If you are going 
 to remain furious with me, at least gratify 
 my curiosity first, and tell me how you 
 came on this boat, and where you are 
 going. Then, if you are so inclined, you 
 may retire into your shell and sulk." 
 
 A soft light was shining in her eye. 
 Her voice was pleading ; her face, most 
 beautiful. Grove, promising himself, in 
 street vernacular, to " go off and kick him- 
 self" directly afterwards, took his place
 
 at her elbow and gazed down hungrily Out of 
 upon her artless, changeful countenance. Season 
 
 " Rather tell me why you are not about 
 to plant your triumphant banner on Brit- 
 ish shores once more. I read your name 
 in the list of those sailing. The news- 
 papers have given all of your summer plans 
 in detail, all the country-houses that are to 
 receive you, all the aristocrats that are to 
 send invitations to dinner, to meet your 
 ship at Queenstown." 
 
 She colored slightly. " As usual, you 
 are making fun of me. What would be 
 the use, since you won't believe me, of 
 telling you my actual reason for backing 
 out of this English visit, and letting my 
 mother and sister go without me ? No, I 
 shan't flatter you by showing my real self." 
 
 " I have seen enough of your real self, 
 thank you. I believe I prefer the unreal, 
 the imaginary woman I suffered myself to 
 fancy you to be for a brief space after our 
 acquaintance began." 
 
 " Now you are rude," she began, her 
 voice faltering ever so little, but enough 
 to shake his equilibrium. He made a 
 movement towards her ; and she looked
 
 Out of him in the face, trying to keep down the 
 Season tingle of satisfaction in her veins. For 
 Gladys's experience of men had taught 
 her to recognize in a certain phase of in- 
 civility the existence of passion unsubdued. 
 It is only indifference in his sex that can 
 maintain an armor of polite self-control 
 towards hers. 
 
 Grove caught the transient gleam in her 
 eye, and read it aright. Immediately he 
 was on the defensive, and his manner 
 froze. 
 
 " I believe you know my aunt, Mrs. 
 Gervase, in town," he said. " I think I 
 saw you at one of her dances, in January." 
 
 " Mrs. Gervase is the dearest thing," 
 interrupted Miss Eliot, conscious of blank- 
 ness in her tone. 
 
 " She may be, but it would be a brave 
 person who would tell her so. She is a 
 delightful, but autocratic, personage ; and 
 one of the treats of the year for me is to 
 get away to her and my uncle for a holi- 
 day, when they have no one else. This 
 is one of those rare occasions. The cot- 
 tage people who have come down to 
 Sheepshead have a tacit agreement to keep 
 
 [-I20]
 
 to themselves, just now. They are sup- Out of 
 posed to be getting their houses to rights, Season 
 and making gardens, and what not. Mrs. 
 Gervase says they are really wearing out 
 the past season's gloves, and putting tonics 
 on their hair, and trying new cures and 
 doses, for which there was no time before 
 leaving town. The days will pass in do- 
 ing as we please, and in the evening we 
 shall dine well (for the Gervases have a 
 corker of a cook), after which my aunt 
 and uncle and I will take each a book and 
 a lamp into some nook of the library, and 
 read till bedtime. You can't imagine a 
 life more to my taste." 
 
 " Prohibitory to outsiders, at least," said 
 Gladys. " This is, as I suppose you mean 
 it to be, awfully alarming to me ; for I 
 have n't told you that I am for three weeks 
 to be Mrs. Gervase's nearest neighbor. I 
 am going to visit an old friend of my moth- 
 er's, Mrs. Luther Prettyman." 
 
 Grove experienced a sensation of dis- 
 may. The Prettymans ! Chateau Cali- 
 cot, as he had dubbed their new florid 
 " villa," built on the shore in objectionable 
 proximity to his uncle's house, some three
 
 Out of years back ! He remembered the vines 
 Season planted, the shrubs set out, the rattan 
 screens hung, the final adjustment of chairs 
 by Mrs. Gervase, in the attempt to shut 
 out every glimpse of the Prettyman belong- 
 ings from their place of daily rendezvous 
 on the veranda at Stoneacres ; his uncle's 
 sly amusement when the cupola of the 
 Prettyman stables, and the roof of a de- 
 testable little sugar-temple tea-house were 
 projected on their line of vision, spite of 
 all. Mrs. Gervase could not forgive her- 
 self for not having secured that point of 
 land when land was so ridiculously cheap. 
 On an average of once a day, she reminded 
 her husband that she had begged him to 
 do so, and he had put it off until too late. 
 Mrs. Prettyman, unvisited by Mrs. Ger- 
 vase for many months after the red-brown 
 gables of her costly dwelling rose into 
 prominence at Sheepshead Point, had grad- 
 ually found her way into quasi-intimacy at 
 Stoneacres. Mrs. Gervase, protesting that 
 her neighbor was commonplace, vacuous, 
 a being from whom one could derive noth- 
 ing more profitable than the address of a 
 place in town to have one's lace lamp-
 
 shades made a dollar cheaper than else- Out of 
 where, allowed herself, in time, to take a Season 
 mild but perceptible interest in Prettyman 
 affairs. Through force of habit, she had 
 grown accustomed to survey the Pretty- 
 man lodge-gates, in driving, without re- 
 marking upon " the absurdity of gilded 
 finials to iron railings, at a rough, seaside 
 place like this." Nay, the noses of the 
 Gervase cobs were now not infrequently 
 turned in through these gilded railings. 
 Mr. and Mrs. Gervase dined periodically 
 with the Prettymans. The Prettymans 
 repaired more frequently to Stoneacres. 
 Mrs. Prettyman made capital, in town, of 
 her friendship with " dear Mrs. Gervase." 
 This, Grove, like the rest of the world, 
 had come gradually to know and accept. 
 But it grated on him to hear that the 
 woman who, so far, had furnished his life 
 its chief feminine influence should be as- 
 sociated in this way with the mistress of 
 Chateau Calicot. It belittled his one pas- 
 sion now put away as dead, but still his 
 own. This, indeed, set the crowning 
 touch upon his misfortune of meeting her 
 again.
 
 Chapter III 
 
 Out of " TV^Y dear boy, you might have 
 Season J.VJ. knocked me down with a feather," 
 said Mrs. Gervase, upon capturing her 
 nephew at the wharf and driving away 
 with him. " Tell me at once what you 
 mean by knowing Gladys Eliot, and arriv- 
 ing with her in that intimate sort of way, 
 just as I had, with infinite trouble, suc- 
 ceeded in bluffing the Prettymans with a 
 mere dinner on Saturday ! Now you will 
 be having to call. Ton, of all people, hit- 
 ting it off with Gladys Eliot ! " 
 
 " Give yourself no concern," put in 
 Mr. Gervase, who was driving, looking 
 back over his shoulder with a beaming 
 smile ; " I offer to throw myself into the 
 breach. A woman as beautiful, as tall, as 
 placid, as Miss Eliot commands the best 
 homage of my heart. I forewarn you 
 that I am going desperately into this af- 
 fair. Such luck never came my way be- 
 fore."
 
 44 Stop at the confectioner's for the Out of 
 macaroons, Henry," said his wife, ignoring Season 
 transports. " Alan, you are looking 
 wretched. When I think of those ruddy, 
 brown cheeks, and the look of vigor you 
 brought out of your college athletics a few- 
 years back, I 'm inclined to renounce mind 
 and go in for muscle exclusively. Oh, 
 that wretched grind of life in New York 
 that crushes the youth and spirit out of 
 you poor boys that have to toil for a liv- 
 ing ! Surely, it is n't only law that 's 
 worked such havoc in those pale, thin 
 cheeks " 
 
 " My dear Agatha, your sympathy 
 would put a well man in his bed," said 
 Mr. Gervase, whose keen eyes took in 
 more of the actual situation than did his 
 wife's. 
 
 "Oh well! stop here, please; no, 
 I won't get down, Jonas sees me ; he 
 will be out directly, with the parcel you 
 must see, Henry, that Alan has changed, 
 even since " 
 
 " Alan, let me tell you of a bill our 
 friend Jonas, here, who is a bit of a horse- 
 jockey, as well as local confectioner and
 
 Out of pastry-cook, sent in recently to your aunt. 
 Season He had been selling her a mate to her 
 chestnut, and the account ran this way : 
 
 " 'MRS. H. GERVASE TO I. JONAS, DR. 
 I Ib. lady-fingers . . $ 0.30 
 One horse . . . 250.00 
 
 y% Ib. cream peppermints . 0.20 
 
 Total, #250. 50 ' ' 
 
 Grove was glad to cover his various dis- 
 comforts with a laugh. But he did not 
 find it easy to elude the vigilance of Mrs. 
 Gervase, who bided her time until an op- 
 portunity presented itself for an uninter- 
 rupted talk with him. 
 
 " Stretch yourself out on that bamboo 
 couch, and let me put the pillows in," she 
 said, when they two adjourned to the ve- 
 randa, in the twilight after dinner. " It 
 is such fun to have a boy to cosset once 
 more, with my own lads at college, and 
 three weeks to wait before I can get Tom 
 and Louis back from New London after 
 the boat-race." 
 
 " You have such an inspired faculty 
 for making men comfortable," Grove 
 
 ["*]
 
 remarked, from the depths of his bien- Out of 
 etre. Season 
 
 " Custom, I suppose. An only daugh- 
 ter, with a father and three brothers to 
 wait upon till I married, and a husband 
 and two sons to impose on me since. I 
 should not know how to handle girls. I 
 like them, of course, find them all very 
 well in their way, but they bother me. 
 Perhaps it is that there are no old-fash- 
 ioned girls any more no young ones, 
 certainly. They come into the world like 
 Minerva from Jove's brain. They are so 
 learned, or clever, or worldly-wise, read 
 everything, see everything, hear every- 
 thing discussed, have no illusions but, 
 there, I can't explain my preference. 
 Men are captious, obstinate, whimsical, by 
 turns ; disappoint one continually in little 
 things but in the main they are so 
 broad and big; scatter nonsense into thin 
 air ; are so loyal and unswerving to their 
 beliefs; know where they stand, and, hav- 
 ing made up their minds to action, do not 
 change." 
 
 " In short," remarked Grove, " you are
 
 Out of like the little servant-maid in Cranford, 
 Season when they told her to hand the potatoes 
 to the ladies first. 1 1 '11 do as you bid me, 
 ma'am, but I like the lads best.' My 
 dearest auntie, there must be guardian an- 
 gels specially appointed to look after our 
 sex, and you are one of them. This is 
 the age and America is the field for the 
 unchecked efflorescence of young woman- 
 kind. But when the conversation takes 
 on this complexion, I feel it to be unfair 
 not to allow the defendant the assistance 
 of counsel ; though, even if Uncle Henry 
 were here, I am sure we should both be 
 demolished speedily." 
 
 " Never mind Henry," said that gentle- 
 man's representative. " He has got a new 
 letter from a man in London whom he 
 keeps for the purpose of making him mis- 
 erable with catalogues of sales of books 
 and papers he can't afford to buy. But 
 he potters over them, and marks the lists, 
 and writes back to the man in London, 
 and, as you know, we do manage to be- 
 come possessed of much more dear an- 
 tiquity than the house will hold or our in- 
 come warrant. This time, he is buried
 
 alive for an hour to come, for it is about Out of 
 a sale of Sir Philip Francis's letters and Season 
 manuscripts at Sotheby's very soon." 
 
 " I don't believe the real l Junius ' an- 
 nouncing himself would get me out of 
 this bamboo chair and away from this 
 deepening of eventide upon the sea and 
 islands, the afterglow of sunset melting 
 into moonlight, the soft caressing of the 
 salt air blending with those hidden helio- 
 tropes of yours ! Now, dear lady, let 's go 
 back to the concrete. I knew, the mo- 
 ment your eagle eye fell on me this after- 
 noon, you would find out all that in me is. 
 For so many years I 've been telling you 
 my scrapes, I may as well out with the 
 latest and biggest of them. Two months 
 ago, I took Gladys Eliot in to dinner at the 
 Sargents'. I kept it from you in town, 
 for which you '11 say I am properly pun- 
 ished. I fell in love with her, like a 
 schoolboy with green apples, heeding not 
 the danger of unwholesomeness. After 
 that, I met her when and wherever I could 
 push my way to her. I thought of her, 
 sleeping and waking; received from her 
 looks and tones and words that would, as>
 
 Out of the lady novelists are so fond of saying, 
 Season l tempt an anchorite ; ' believed in her ! " 
 
 " My poor child, how wretched ! " said 
 Mrs. Gervase, promptly. 
 
 " So it proved. Last but not least of 
 the comedy, I skip the details, I was 
 deluded into buttoning myself up in a 
 fluffy, long-tailed, iron-gray coat that I got 
 in London last spring and had not had 
 time to wear, put on a bunch of white 
 carnations, and drove out to one of those 
 inane Claremont teas in my friend Pierre 
 Sargent's trap, because, forsooth, she asked 
 me. For an hour I suffered martyrdom 
 in that little greenhouse sort of a veranda, 
 with people herded together gossiping, and 
 not setting their feet upon the lawn over 
 the river that they came out to see. 
 Women talked drivel to me, waiters 
 slopped tea over me, and we walked on 
 slices of buttered bread. Then she came 
 on the box-seat of that brute Mc- 
 Laughlin's drag, having eyes for him only, 
 so that every one talked of it ! " 
 
 "I remember and I could not im- 
 agine what brought you there. Yes, I sat 
 down on a little cake and completely
 
 ruined my new porcelain-blue crepon Out of 
 those waiters were very careless. Jolly Season 
 faded it trying to take out the spot, and 
 Mathilde had the greatest trouble to match 
 the stuff. Alan, that man McLaughlin 
 ought to be drummed out of polite soci- 
 ety. The girl who would receive his at- 
 tentions, let herself be talked of as likely 
 to be his wife, cannot at heart be nice. 
 When your dear mother and I were girls, 
 we would not have looked at a big, vulgar 
 creature like that, simply because he drove 
 four-in-hand and was known to be rich. 
 He would never have been asked to your 
 grandfather's table. The materialism of 
 this age takes, to me, no form more objec- 
 tionable than the frank acceptance of such 
 as he by women, old and young." 
 
 " Exactly," said Grove, grimly. " And 
 when I met her at his side, she turned 
 away from him one moment with a banal 
 jest for me, and then quickly recaptured 
 him, as if fearful he would escape. That, 
 even my infatuation would not suffer. I 
 turned on my heel, and, until I met her 
 by chance on the boat to-day, have never 
 seen her since."
 
 Out of " What can have been her reason for 
 Season not going abroad ? " said Mrs. Gervase, 
 eagerly a trifle suspiciously. 
 
 Grove was silent. In his ear sounded 
 a dulcet voice, murmuring as the boat 
 neared shore : " Perhaps, when you have 
 consented to feel better friends with me, 
 you will come and let me tell you why I 
 stayed" 
 
 " You know, of course, that everybody 
 says she is engaged ? Her mother has 
 hinted it to Mrs. Prettyman. If it be to 
 this McLaughlin, then God knows you are 
 well rid of her. If that be a blind, Alan 
 dear, you know it was always my way 
 with you boys to scold about little things 
 and let great ones pass, I shan't add a 
 word to your self-reproach ; but I '11 warn 
 you oh! I won't have the sin on my 
 soul of letting you go unwarned. That 
 woman, no matter whether she thinks she 
 loves you or not, would make your mis- 
 ery. The parents of to-day don't trouble 
 themselves to train up wives for the rank 
 and file of our honest gentlemen. They 
 create fine ladies, and look about for some 
 one to take the expense of them off their
 
 hands. It is common talk that the Eliots Out of 
 have been strained to their utmost means Season 
 to carry their girls from place to place, 
 with the expectation of making rich mar- 
 riages. The beauty and success of this 
 one has apparently blinded those poor peo- 
 ple to the consequences of their folly. 
 The girl has been brought up to fancy her- 
 self of superior clay, her habits are lux- 
 urious, her wants extravagant. 
 
 " More than all, for five years she has 
 been fed on the flatteries of society. Per- 
 sonal praise is indispensable to her. She 
 has lived and consorted with the most lav- 
 ish entertainers of the most reckless society 
 in our republic. Even supposing that you 
 won her beauty and graces for your own, 
 what on earth could you expect to offer 
 her in exchange for what she would give 
 up ? My poor, dear lad, I 'm talking plati- 
 tudes, you think ; but you and Tom and 
 Louis shall not be allowed to wreck your 
 futures upon such as Gladys Eliot, while I 
 have breath to speak. I 'm afraid I think 
 all marriages a mistake for young men. I 
 know they are, as we measure and value 
 things, in what we call 4 fashionable life.'
 
 Out of Go out of it, by all means, if you can. 
 
 Season To take her out of it you would find to be 
 quite another matter. And now, after this 
 long homily, I 've one question to put. 
 Answer it, if you like if you think I 've 
 the right to ask it. After seeing her again 
 to-day, do you feel there is danger in her 
 proximity ? " 
 
 " You have certainly torn sentiment to 
 shreds," said Alan, getting up from amid 
 his cushions and beginning to stride up and 
 down the long veranda. Mrs. Gervase 
 watched him without further speech. That 
 he did not again allude to the subject sent 
 her to bed with keen anxiety and a re- 
 newed regret that Mr. Gervase had not 
 taken her advice about buying that point 
 of land before it fell into the hands of the 
 Prettymans. 
 
 For the two or three days following his 
 arrival at Stoneacres, Grove made no at- 
 tempt to see his neighbor's guest. Once, 
 indeed, they encountered her on horseback, 
 while driving together in a family party in 
 the buckboard, behind the cobs. Mr. Ger- 
 vase, who, in his later enthusiasm about 
 the Junius correspondence, had forgotten 
 
 [w]
 
 his charmer, asked who was that stunning, Out of 
 pretty girl, and, on being rallied by his wife, Season 
 declared his poor sight was at fault, and 
 that he meant to call on the Prettymans 
 that very day ; but Saturday brought with 
 it the appointed dinner, without other over- 
 ture from Stoneacres than cards left by 
 Mrs. Gervase when the ladies were from 
 home. 
 
 Grove was hardly surprised when, on 
 descending to the drawing-room in evening 
 clothes, he found only that very colorless 
 pair of Prettymans. Miss Eliot, it was 
 alleged, was suffering from too long a ride 
 in the hot sun of the afternoon to make 
 the effort to come out. He saw in the 
 countenance of his aunt a look of relief, 
 which she at once proceeded to mask by 
 unusual suavity to mankind in general, her 
 flattered guests in particular. 
 
 " The worst is over ; I am safe," Grove 
 decided. " But I like her all the better 
 for that womanly holding back. Now, to 
 live down my folly as best I can." 
 
 He threw himself into hard work, and 
 the days passed healthily. Mrs. Gervase 
 had begun to relax her vigilance, to breathe 
 
 [w]
 
 Out of almost free of care, when, upon one of his 
 Season morning rides, ahead of him in a forest 
 glade, he espied Gladys Eliot, in the sad- 
 dle, attended by one of the Prettyman boys, 
 a youngster of thirteen, mounted on a polo 
 pony in process of " showing off" his and 
 his master's accomplishments. 
 
 At the sound behind them, both Gladys 
 and the boy turned to look ; and Grove 
 saw that he could not retreat without a 
 decided lack of dignity. He therefore rode 
 by them, receiving from Miss Eliot a faint 
 and chilly nod; from the boy, an ac- 
 quaintance of last year, a more cordial 
 salutation. 
 
 " I say, Mr. Grove, can't Punch take 
 that fallen tree ? " cried out the lad, in 
 shrill treble. " She says it 's dangerous, 
 because the bank is caved. Hold on one 
 minute, and I '11 show you he can clear it, 
 bank and all." 
 
 Punch, proving nothing loth, jumped 
 the obstacles in question gallantly, but on 
 the far side slipped on something, and 
 spilled his rider among a bed of tall bracken, 
 in which the boy lay, lost to sight. Both 
 Grove and Gladys were in a minute at his
 
 side, shocked at finding him white and Out cf 
 senseless. Season 
 
 " It was not the fall," she said, rapidly. 
 " He has heart-trouble, and his mother is 
 always anxious about a sudden shock for 
 him. He will outgrow it probably, the 
 doctors say. Here, you hold him in your 
 arms, while I get water from that brook. 
 I know what to do, and he will soon come 
 to himself." 
 
 Grove found himself silently obeying 
 her behests. He was strucK by her prompt 
 presence of mind, her deftness, and good 
 sense. "What an admirable trained nurse 
 is lost to the world in her ! " he thought, 
 and, when all was done, and the boy gave 
 token of returning life, sat still, content to 
 crush down moss and ferns, awkwardly 
 holding his burden, while Gladys knelt so 
 close that her breath in speaking fanned 
 his cheek. 
 
 " It was n't Punch's fault. I 've got a 
 big bee buzzing in my head," were the 
 welcome words they at last heard from 
 the sufferer. 
 
 " Yes, I know, Jim dear, but don't 
 talk now till the big bee flies away," and 
 
 [Wj
 
 Out of the boy, closing his eyes, appeared to 
 
 Season sleep. 
 
 " Lay his head on my lap, and then, if 
 you don't mind riding back and ordering 
 some sort of a trap, without letting his 
 mother know " 
 
 " I can't leave you here. It is too far 
 from home, and the country hereabouts is 
 quite bare of dwellings. Nor would I 
 like you to ride so far alone. There ; 
 let him sleep, and we will watch him till 
 he wakes. No doctor could have treated 
 him more cleverly than you." 
 
 " It 's the result of a < First Aid to the 
 Injured ' class I went to once, perhaps. 
 But I always had a knack with ill people," 
 she said, dropping the deep fringes of her 
 eyes upon damask cheeks. 
 
 That evening, Grove could do no less 
 than call to inquire after Master Jim, 
 who, not much the worse for his attack, 
 kept his adoring mother in durance at his 
 bedside, while Grove sat watching the opal 
 flushes die out of a western sky, in com- 
 pany with Gladys. Quite another Gladys
 
 was this, in all save beauty and her dulcet Out of 
 voice, from his enslaver of town life. Season 
 
 And now, to Mrs. Gervase's ill-con- 
 cealed dismay, visits, meetings, rides, boat- 
 ing, began and continued daily. Grove 
 was teaching Miss Eliot chess, he said, 
 and the other things were what they call 
 upon the stage "incidental divertise- 
 ments." 
 
 A fortnight of glorious weather had 
 passed thus, when, on the eve of Grove's 
 return to town and work, he asked Gladys 
 to go out in a boat with him to watch the 
 sunset on the water. 
 
 " Now you have told me there is no 
 reason I may not speak, I can wait no 
 longer for an answer," he said, as, resting 
 on his oars, he scanned her face eagerly. 
 u When a man tears his heart out and 
 throws it at a woman's feet, surely he 
 offers something. But that, you know, is 
 my all. If you can consent to share the 
 kind of life mine has got to be for the 
 next five or six years, I think I see day- 
 light beyond. By that time, your first youth 
 will be gone, you will be forgotten by the
 
 Out of people who court you now, you will be a 
 Season nobody in their esteem. To me, you will 
 always be the one woman of the world. 
 You will have the full love of my heart; 
 and you shall see what that means, when 
 a true man pours it upon you unrestrained. 
 I don't pretend to be worth it, Heaven 
 knows. But I do say you have never be- 
 fore been loved by a man like me, and you 
 know it and feel it thoroughly. It 's for 
 you to take or leave me, accepting conse- 
 quences." 
 
 " What a stand-and-deliver kind of love- 
 making ! " Gladys tried to say ; but she 
 was deeply stirred. Remaining silent, her 
 eyes filled with tears ; her head drooped 
 towards her breast. 
 
 " Gladys ! " cried he, exultingly. 
 
 " Don't you see, now, the real reason 
 why I could not go abroad ? " she said, 
 smiling on him brightly, and lifting, at the 
 same moment, her ungloved left hand to 
 put back a loose lock of hair that the wind 
 had blown across her cheek. Grove, gaz- 
 ing at her with his whole soul in his eyes, 
 became aware of a ring upon the fourth 
 finger, a ring of such conspicuous bril-
 
 liancy and choice gems as to convey Out of 
 but one meaning, and his expression Season 
 changed. 
 
 " Oh ! I hate it ! I shall give it back ! " 
 she exclaimed, a burning blush settling 
 upon her face. " I did not mean it was 
 an accident. I hate it, I tell you ! Why 
 do you look at me like that ? " 
 
 She tore the ring from her hand, and 
 impetuously put it out of sight. Presently, 
 as Grove, in mechanical fashion, resumed 
 his rowing without a word, she cried out, 
 passionately : 
 
 " Why do you not ask me to explain all 
 the circumstances of my life since I 
 saw you last ? Why can't you understand 
 that a girl situated as I am has temptations 
 that at times seem to her irresistible ? 
 Need I mortify myself by telling you that 
 I am driven driven till I feel as if I 
 would do anything to get rest from eternal 
 lectures about what a rich marriage has 
 got to do for me and for others ? Yes, 
 you are right in saying that a man like 
 you never before asked me to marry him. 
 Because I feel that because be- 
 cause Oh ! you are cruel not to speak
 
 Out of to help me ! How can I put into 
 Season words that I am willing to give up all " 
 
 It was impossible, facing the rigid cold- 
 ness of his face, to go on. She sat in 
 wretched silence till they reached shore, 
 and he gave her his chilly hand to help 
 her upon the float. Then the touch of 
 her fingers sent a tremor of relenting into 
 his veins. 
 
 Oh, if I could ! If I could ! But he 
 too that other one believed. Tell 
 me ; he does not still believe in you ? " 
 
 " Thate him," she said, doggedly. She 
 shivered a little, as the quickened breeze 
 of evening struck her thinly-clad form. 
 
 Grove, clasping her hand, gazed into 
 her eyes with a desperate resolve to read 
 her heart. 
 
 41 Let me go it is no use," she said, 
 turning away from him. 
 
 And, with a sigh deep as Fate, he loos- 
 ened his hold of her forever.
 
 On Frenchman's Bay
 
 Chapter I 
 
 FROM Maxwell Pollock, Esq., No. On 
 Fifth Avenue, New York, to Ste- French- 
 
 phen Cranbrooke, Esq., Club, man's 
 
 New York. Bay 
 
 " May 30, 189. 
 " My dear Cranbrooke : 
 
 " You will wonder why I follow up our 
 conversation of last evening with a letter ; 
 why, instead of speaking, I should write 
 what is left to be said between us two. 
 
 " But after a sleepless night, of which 
 my little wife suspects nothing, I am im- 
 pelled to confide in you my oldest 
 friend, her friend, although you and she 
 have not yet grown to the comprehension 
 of each other I hoped for when she mar- 
 ried me three years ago a secret that has 
 begun to weigh heavy upon my soul. 
 
 " I do not need to remind you that, 
 since our college days, you have known me 
 subject to fits of moodiness and depression 
 upon which you have often rallied me.
 
 On How many times you have said that a fel- 
 
 French- low to whom Fate had given health, 
 man's strength, opportunity, and fortune and 
 Bay recently the treasure of a lovely and lov- 
 ing wife has no business to admit the 
 word c depression ' into his vocabulary ! 
 " This is true. I acknowledge it, as I 
 have a thousand times before. I am a 
 fool, a coward, to shrink from what is be- 
 fore me. But I was still more of a fool 
 and a coward when I married her. For 
 her sake, the prospect of my death before 
 this summer wanes impels me to own to 
 you my certainty that my end is close at 
 hand. 
 
 "In every generation of our family 
 since the old fellow who came over from 
 England and founded us on Massachusetts 
 soil, the oldest son has been snatched out 
 of life upon the threshold of his thirtieth 
 year. I carried into college with me an 
 indelible impression of the sudden and dis- 
 tressing death of my father, at that period 
 of his prosperous career, and of the wild 
 cry of my widowed mother when she 
 clasped me to her breast, and prayed 
 Heaven might avert the doom from me.
 
 " Everything that philosophy, science, On 
 common sense, could bring to the task of French- 
 arguing me out of a belief in the trans- man's 
 mission of this sentence of a higher power Bay 
 to me, has been tried. I have studied, 
 travelled, lived, enjoyed myself in a ra- 
 tional way ; have loved and won the one 
 woman upon earth for me, have revelled 
 in her wifely tenderness. 
 
 " I have tried to do my duty as a man 
 and a citizen. In all other respects, I be- 
 lieve myself to be entirely rational, cool- 
 headed, unemotional ; but I have never 
 been able to down that spectre. He is 
 present at every feast ; and, although in 
 perfectly good health, I resolved yesterday 
 to put the question to a practical test. I 
 called at the office of an eminent special- 
 ist, whom I had never met, although doubt- 
 less he knew my name, as I knew his. 
 
 " Joining the throng of waiting folk in 
 
 Dr. 's outer office, I turned over the 
 
 leaves of the last number of Punch, with 
 what grim enjoyment of its menu of jocu- 
 larity you may conceive. When my turn 
 came, I asked for a complete physical ex- 
 amination. But the doctor got no farther
 
 On than my heart before I was conscious of 
 French- awakening interest on his part. When the 
 man's whole business was over, he told me frankly 
 Bay that in what he was pleased to call c a mag- 
 nificent physique,' there was but one blem- 
 ish, a spot upon the ripe side of a peach, 
 a certain condition of the heart that 
 1 might or might not ' give serious trouble 
 in the future. 
 
 " c Might or might not ' ! How I en- 
 vied the smooth-spoken man of science 
 his ability to say these words so glibly ! 
 While I took his medical advice, that, 
 between us, was not worth a straw, and he 
 knew it, and I knew it, I was thinking 
 of Ethel. I saw her face when she should 
 know the worst ; and I became, immedi- 
 ately, an abject, cringing, timorous thing, 
 that crept out of the doctor's office into 
 the spring sunshine, wondering why the 
 world was all a-cold. 
 
 " Here 's where the lash hits me : I 
 should never have married Ethel ; I should, 
 knowing my doom, have married no one 
 but some commonplace, platitudinous crea- 
 ture, whom the fortune I shall leave behind 
 me would have consoled. But Ethel !
 
 high-strung, ardent, simple-hearted, wor- On 
 shipping me far beyond my deserts ! Why French- 
 did I condemn her, poor girl, to what is so man's 
 soon to come ? Bay 
 
 " On the fifteenth day of the coming 
 August, I shall have reached thirty years. 
 Before that day, the blow will fall upon 
 her, and it is my fault. You know, Cran- 
 brooke, that I do not fear death. What 
 manly soul fears death ? It is only to the 
 very young, or to the very weak of spirit, 
 the King appears in all his terrors. Hav- 
 ing expected him so long and so confi- 
 dently, I hope I may meet him with a 
 courageous front. But Ethel ! Ethel ! 
 
 " She will be quite alone with me this 
 summer. Her mother and sisters have just 
 sailed for the other side, and I confess I 
 am selfish enough to crave her to myself 
 in the last hours. But some one she must 
 have to look after her, and whom can I 
 trust like you ? I want you to promise to 
 come to us to spend your August holiday ; 
 to be there, in fact, when 
 
 " In the meantime, there must be no 
 suggestion of what I expect. She, least 
 of all, must suspect it. I should like to
 
 On go out to the unknown with her light- 
 French- hearted, girlish laugh ringing in my ears. 
 man's " When we meet, as usual, you will 
 
 Bay oblige me by saying nothing of this letter 
 or its contents. By complying with this 
 request, you will add one more a final 
 one, dear old man to the long list of 
 kindnesses for which I am your debtor ; 
 and, believe me, dear Cranbrooke, 
 " Yours, always faithfully, 
 
 " MAXWELL POLLOCK." 
 
 " Good heaven ! " exclaimed Stephen 
 Cranbrooke, dropping the sheet as if it 
 burnt him, and sitting upright and aghast. 
 " So this is the cranny in Pollock's brain 
 where I have never before been able to 
 penetrate." 
 
 Later that day, Mr. Cranbrooke re- 
 ceived another epistle, prefaced by the 
 house address of the Maxwell Pollocks. 
 
 " Dear Mr. Cranbrooke," this letter 
 ran, " Max tells me he has extended to 
 you an invitation to share our solitude a 
 deux in your August holiday. I need
 
 hardly say that I endorse this heartily ; and On 
 I hope you will not regret to learn that, French- 
 instead of going, as usual, to our great, man's 
 big, isolated country-place in New Hamp- Bay 
 shire, I have persuaded Max to take a cot- 
 tage on the shore of Frenchman's Bay, 
 near Bar Harbor, but not too near that 
 gay resort, where he can have his sail- 
 boat and canoe, and a steam-launch for 
 me to get about in. They say the sunsets 
 over the water there are adorable, and 
 Max has an artist's soul, as you know, 
 and will delight in the picturesque beauty 
 of it all. 
 
 " I want to tell you, confidentially, that 
 I have fancied a change of air and scene 
 might do him good this year. He is cer- 
 tainly not ill; but is, as certainly, not 
 quite himself. I suppose you will think I 
 am a little goose for saying so ; but I be- 
 lieve if anything went wrong with Max, 
 I could never stand up against it. And 
 there is no other man in the world, than 
 you, whom I would ask to help me to find 
 out what it really is that worries him, 
 whether ill-fortune, or what, certainly
 
 On not ill-health, for he is a model of splendid 
 
 French- vigor, as everybody knows, my beautiful 
 
 man's husband ! " 
 
 Bay " This is what she calls pleasant read- 
 
 ing for me," said plain, spare Stephen 
 Cranbrooke, with a whimsical twist of his 
 expressive mouth. 
 
 " At any rate," he read, resuming, " you 
 and I will devote ourselves to making it 
 nice for him up there. No man, however 
 he loves his wife, can afford to do alto- 
 gether without men's society ; and it is so 
 hard for me to get Max to go into general 
 company, or to cultivate intimacy with 
 any man but you ! 
 
 11 There is a bachelor's wing to the cot- 
 tage we have taken, with a path leading 
 direct to the wharf where the boats are 
 moored ; and this you can occupy by your- 
 self, having breakfast alone, as Max and I 
 are erratic in that respect. We shall have 
 a buckboard for the ponies, and our sad- 
 dle-horses, with a horse for you to ride; 
 and we shall pledge each other not to ac- 
 cept a single invitation to anybody's house, 
 unless it please us to go there. 
 
 " Not less than a month will we take
 
 from you, and I wish it might be longer. On 
 Perhaps you may like to know there is no French- 
 other man Max would ask, and I should man's 
 want, to be ' one of us ' under such cir- Bay 
 cumstances. 
 
 " Always cordially yours, 
 
 " ETHEL POLLOCK." 
 
 " I asked her for bread, and she gave 
 me a stone," he quoted, with a return of 
 the whimsical expression. " Well ! nei- 
 ther he nor she has ever suspected my in- 
 fatuation. I am glad she wrote as she did, 
 though, for it makes the watch I mean to 
 set over Max easier. After looking at his 
 case in every aspect, I am convinced there 
 is a remedy, if I can only find it." 
 
 A knock, just then, at the door of Mr. 
 Cranbrooke's comfortable bachelor sitting- 
 room was followed by the appearance in- 
 side of it of a man, at sight of whom 
 Cranbrooke's careworn and puzzled coun- 
 tenance brightened perceptibly. 
 
 " Ha ! Shepard ! " he said, rising to be- 
 stow on the newcomer a hearty grip of the 
 hand. " Did you divine how much I 
 wanted to talk to a fellow who has pursued
 
 On exactly your line of study, and one, too, 
 French- who, more than any other I happen to be 
 man's acquainted with, knows just how far mind 
 Bay may be made to influence matter in pre- 
 venting catastrophe, when but, there, 
 what am I to do ? It 's another man's 
 affair, a confidence that must be held 
 inviolable." 
 
 " Give me the case hypothetically," 
 said Shepard, dropping, according to cus- 
 tom, into a leathern chair out at elbows but 
 full of comfort to the spine of reclining 
 man, while accepting one of Cranbrooke's 
 galaxy of famously tinted pipes. 
 
 " I think I will try to do so," rejoined 
 his friend, tc since upon it hangs the weal 
 or woe of two people, in their way more 
 interesting to me than any others in the 
 world." 
 
 " I am all ears," said Dr. Shepard, fix- 
 ing upon Cranbrooke the full gaze of a 
 pair of deep-set orbs that had done their 
 full share of looking intelligently into the 
 mystery of cerebral vagaries. Cranbrooke, 
 as well as he could, told the gist of Pol- 
 lock's letter, expressing his opinion that 
 to a man of the writer's temperament the 
 
 [w]
 
 conviction of approaching death was as On 
 good as an actual death-warrant. French- 
 
 Shepard, who asked nothing better than man's 
 an intelligent listener when launched upon Bay 
 his favorite theories, kept the floor for fif- 
 teen minutes in a brilliant offhand dis- 
 course full of technicalities intermingled 
 with sallies of strong original thought, to 
 which Cranbrooke listened, as men in 
 such a case are wont to do, in fascinated 
 silence. 
 
 " But this is generalizing," the doctor 
 interrupted himself at last. " What you 
 want is a special discussion of your friend's 
 condition. Of course, not knowing his 
 physical state, I can't pretend to say how 
 long it is likely to be before that heart- 
 trouble will pull him up short. But the 
 merest tyro knows that men under sen- 
 tence from heart-disease have lived their 
 full span. It is the obsession of his mind, 
 the invasion of his nerves by that long- 
 brooding idea, that bothers me. I am in- 
 clined to think the odds are he will go mad 
 if he doesn't die." 
 
 " Good God, Shepard ! " came from his 
 friend's pale lips.
 
 On " Is n't that what you were worrying 
 
 French- about when I came in ? Yes you 
 man's need n't answer. You think so, too ; and 
 Bay we are not posing as wise men when we 
 arrive at that simple conclusion." 
 
 " What on earth are we to do for him ?" 
 
 " I don't know, unless it be to distract 
 his mind by some utterly unlooked-for 
 concatenation of circumstances. Get his 
 wife to make love to another man, for in- 
 stance." 
 
 " Shepard, you forget ; these are my 
 nearest friends." 
 
 " And you forget I am a sceptic about 
 a love between the sexes that cannot be 
 alienated," answered the little doctor, 
 coolly. 
 
 Cranbrooke had indeed, for a moment, 
 lost sight of his confidant's dark page of 
 life forgotten the experience that, years 
 ago, had broken up the doctor's home, and 
 made of him a scoffer against the faith of 
 woman. He was silent, and Shepard went 
 on with no evidence of emotion. 
 
 " When that happened to me, it was a 
 dynamite explosion that effectually broke 
 up the previous courses of thought within
 
 me ; and, naturally, the idea occurs to me On 
 as a specific for the case of your melan- French- 
 choly friend. Seriously, Cranbrooke, you man's 
 could do worse than attack him from some Ba\ 
 unexpected quarter, in some point where 
 he is acutely sensitive play upon him, 
 excite him, distract him, and so carry him 
 past the date he fears." 
 
 " How could I ? " asked Cranbrooke of 
 himself. 
 
 There was another knock ; and, upon 
 Cranbrooke's hearty bidding to come in, 
 there entered no less a person than the 
 subject of their conversation. 
 
 Even the astute Shepard finished his 
 pipe and took his leave without suspecting 
 that the manly, healthy, clear-eyed, and 
 animated Maxwell Pollock had anything 
 in common with the possessed hero of 
 Cranbrooke's story. Cranbrooke, who had 
 dreaded a reopening of the subject of Pol- 
 lock's letter, was infinitely relieved to find 
 it left untouched. 
 
 The visit, lasting till past midnight, was 
 one of a long series dating back to the time 
 when they were undergraduates at the uni- 
 versity. There had never been a break in 
 
 [W]
 
 On their friendship. The society of Cran- 
 
 French- brooke, after that of his own wife, was to 
 
 man's Pollock ever the most refreshing, the most 
 
 Bay inspiring to high and manly thought. They 
 
 talked, now, upon topics grave and gay, 
 
 without hinting at the shadow overlying 
 
 all. Pollock was at his best ; and his 
 
 friend's heart went out to him anew in a 
 
 wave of that sturdy affection " passing the 
 
 love of woman" rare, perhaps, in our 
 
 material money-getting community, but, 
 
 happily, still existing among true men. 
 
 When the visitor arose to take leave, 
 he said in simple fashion : " Then I may 
 count on you, Cranbrooke, to stand by us 
 this summer ? " 
 
 " Count on me in all things," Cran- 
 brooke answered ; and the two shook 
 hands, and Pollock went his way cheerily, 
 as usual. 
 
 " Is this a dream ? " Cranbrooke asked 
 himself, when left alone. " Can it be 
 possible that sane, splendid fellow is a vic- 
 tim of pitiful hallucination, or that he is 
 really to be cut off in the golden summer 
 of his days. No, it can't be ; it must 
 not be. He must be, as Shepard says,
 
 4 pulled up short ' by main force. At any On 
 cost, I must save him. But how ? Any- French- 
 how ! Max must be made to forget him- man's 
 self even if I am the sacrifice! By Bay 
 George ! this is a plight I 'm in ! And 
 Ethel, who adores the ground he walks 
 upon ! I shall probably end by losing 
 both of them, worse luck ! " 
 
 The morning had struggled through 
 Cranbrooke's window-blinds before he 
 stirred from his fit of musing and went 
 into his bedroom for a few hours of 
 troubled sleep.
 
 Chapter II 
 
 On 1\/T^- anc ^ Mrs. Pollock took possession 
 French- J.V-Lof their summer abiding-place on a 
 man's glorious day of refulgent June, such as, in 
 Bay the dazzling atmosphere of Mount Desert 
 Island, makes every more southerly resort 
 on our Atlantic coast seem dull by com- 
 parison. To greet them, they found a world 
 of fresh-washed young birches sparkling 
 in the sun ; of spice-distilling evergreens, 
 cropping up between gray rocks ; of star- 
 ing white marguerites, and huge, yellow, 
 satin buttercups, ablow in all the clearings ; 
 of crisp, young ferns and blue iris, unfold- 
 ing amid the greenery of the wilder bits 
 of island ; haunts that were soon, in turn, 
 to be blushing pink with a miracle of 
 brier-roses. 
 
 And what a charmed existence followed ! 
 In the morning, they awoke to see the 
 water, beneath their windows, sparkle red 
 in the track of the rising sun ; the islets 
 blue-black in the intense glow. All day 
 [160-]
 
 they lived abroad in the virgin woods, or On 
 on the bay in their canoe. And, after French- 
 sunsets of radiant beauty, they would fall man's 
 asleep, lulled by the lapping of little waves Bay 
 upon the rock girdle that bound their lawn. 
 It was all lovely, invigorating, healthful. 
 Of the cottagers who composed the sum- 
 mer settlement, only those had arrived 
 there who, like the Pollocks, wanted chiefly 
 to be to themselves. 
 
 In these early days of the season, Max 
 and Ethel liked to explore on horseback 
 the bosky roads that thread the island, 
 startling the mother partridge, crested and 
 crafty, from her nest, or sending her, in 
 affected woe, in a direction to lead one 
 away from where her brood was left ; lend- 
 ing themselves to the pretty comedy with 
 smiles of sympathy. Or else, they would 
 rifle the ferny combs of dew-laden blos- 
 soms, all the while hearkening to the 
 spring chatter of birds that did their best 
 to give utterance to what wind-voice and 
 leaf-tone failed to convey to human com- 
 prehension. Then, emerging from green 
 arcades, our equestrians would find them- 
 selves, now, in some rocky haunt of pri-
 
 On meval solitude facing lonely hilltops and 
 French- isolated tarns ; now, gazing upon a stretch 
 man's of laughing sea framed by a cleft in the 
 Bay highlands. 
 
 Another day, they would climb on foot 
 to some higher mountain top, and there, 
 whipped by tonic breezes, stand looking 
 down upon the wooded waves of lesser 
 summits, inland ; and, seaward, to the 
 broad Atlantic, with the ships ; and, along 
 the coast, to the hundreds of fiords, with 
 their burden of swirling waters ! 
 
 Coming home from these morning ex- 
 peditions with spirit refreshed and appetite 
 sharpened, it was their custom to repair, 
 after luncheon, to the water, and by the 
 aid of sails, steam, or their own oars or 
 paddles, cut the sapphire bay with tracks 
 of argent brightness, or linger for many a 
 happy hour in the green shadow of the 
 sylvan shore. 
 
 The month of July was upon the wane 
 before husband and wife seemingly aroused 
 to the recollection that their idyl was about 
 to be interrupted by the invasion of a third 
 person. Ethel, indeed, had pondered re- 
 gretfully upon the coming of Cranbrooke
 
 for some days before she spoke of it to On 
 her husband ; while Max ! French- 
 
 The real purpose of Cranbrooke's visit, man's 
 dismissed from Pollock's mind with ex- Bay 
 traordinary success during the earlier 
 weeks of their stay upon the island, had 
 by now assumed, in spite of him, the sug- 
 gestion of a death-watch set upon a pris- 
 oner. He strove not to think of it. He 
 refrained from speaking of it. So deli- 
 cious had been to him the draft of Ethel's 
 society, uninterrupted by outsiders, in this 
 Eden of the eastern sea ; so perfect their 
 harmony of thought and speech; so charm- 
 ing her beauty, heightened by salt air and 
 outdoor exercise and early hours, Max 
 wondered if the experience had been sent 
 to him as an especial allowance of mercy 
 to the condemned. To the very day of 
 Cranbrooke's arrival, even after a trap had 
 been sent to the evening boat to fetch him, 
 the husband and wife refrained from dis- 
 cussing the expected event. 
 
 It was the hour before sunset, following 
 a showery afternoon; and, standing together 
 upon their lawn to look at the western sky, 
 Max proposed to her to go out with him
 
 On for awhile in the canoe. They ran like 
 French- children, hand in hand, to the wharf, where, 
 man's lifting the frail birch-bark craft from its 
 Bay nest, he set it lightly afloat. Ethel, step- 
 ping expertly into her place, was followed 
 by Max, who, in his loose cheviot shirt, 
 barearmed and bareheaded, flashing his 
 red-dyed paddle in the clear water, seemed 
 to her the embodiment of manly grace and 
 strength. 
 
 They steered out into the bay ; and, as 
 they paused to look back upon the shore, 
 the glory of the scene grew to be unspeak- 
 able. Behind the village, over which the 
 electric globes had not yet begun to gleam, 
 towered Newport, a rampart of glowing 
 bronze, arched by a rainbow printed upon 
 a brooding cloud. Elsewhere, the multi- 
 colored sky flamed with changing hues, 
 reflected in a sea of glass. And out of 
 this sea arose wooded islands ; and, far on 
 the opposite shore of the mainland, the 
 triple hills had put on a vestment of deep- 
 est royal purple. 
 
 " I like to look away from the splendor, 
 to the side that is in shadow," said Ethel. 
 *' See, along that eastern coast, how the
 
 reflected sunlight is flashed from the win- On 
 dows on that height, and the blue columns French- 
 of hearth smoke arise from the chimneys ! man's 
 Does n't it make you somehow rejoice Bay 
 that, when the color fades, as it soon must, 
 we shall still have our home and the lights 
 we make for ourselves to go back to ? " 
 
 There was a long silence. 
 
 " What has set you to moralizing, 
 dear ? " he asked, trying to conceal that 
 he had winced at her innocent question. 
 
 "Oh! nothing. Only, when one is su- 
 premely happy, as I am now, one is afraid 
 to believe it will endure. How mild the 
 air is to-night ! Look over yonder, Max ; 
 the jewelled necklace of Sorrento's lights 
 has begun to palpitate. Let us paddle 
 around that fishing-schooner before we 
 turn." 
 
 " Ethel, you are crying." 
 
 " Am I ? Then it is for pure delight. 
 I think, Max, we had never so fine an 
 inspiration as that of coming to Mount 
 Desert. My idea of the place has always 
 been of a lot of rantipole gaieties, and peo- 
 ple crowded in hotels. While this it is 
 a little like Norway, and a great deal like
 
 On Southern Italy. Besides, when before 
 French- have we been so completely to ourselves 
 man's as in that gray stone lodge by the water- 
 Bay side, with its hood of green ivy, and the 
 green hill rising behind it ? Let us come 
 every year ; better still, let us build our- 
 selves a summer home upon these shores." 
 " Should you like me to buy the cottage 
 we now have, so that you can keep it to 
 come to when you like ? " 
 
 " When you like, you mean. Max, it 
 can't be you have caught cold in this soft 
 air, but your voice sounds a little hoarse. 
 Well ! I suppose we must go in, for Mr. 
 Cranbrooke will be arriving very soon." 
 
 Ethel's sigh found an echo in one from 
 her husband, at which the April-natured 
 young woman laughed. 
 
 " There, it 's out ! We don't want even 
 Cranbrooke, do we ? To think the poor, 
 dear man's coming should have been op- 
 pressing both of us, and neither would be 
 first to acknowledge it ! After all, Max 
 darling, it is your fault. It was you who 
 proposed Cranbrooke. I knew, all along, 
 that I 'd be better satisfied with you alone. 
 Now, we must just take the consequence
 
 of your overhasty hospitality, and make On 
 him as happy as we are if we can." French- 
 
 " If we can ! " said Max ; and she saw man's 
 an almost pathetic expression drift across Bay 
 his face an expression that bewildered 
 her. 
 
 " Why do you look so rueful over him ? " 
 "I am thinking, perhaps, how hard it 
 will be for him to look at happiness through 
 another man's eyes." 
 
 " Nonsense ! Mr. Cranbrooke is quite 
 satisfied with his own lot. He is one of 
 those self-contained men who could never 
 really love, I think," said Mrs. Pollock, 
 conclusively. 
 
 " He has in some way failed to show 
 you his best side. He has the biggest, 
 tenderest heart ! I wish there was a woman 
 fit for him, somewhere. But Stephen will 
 never marry, now, I fear. She who gets 
 him will be lucky he is a very tower of 
 strength to those who lean on him." 
 
 " As far as strength goes, Max, you 
 could pick him up with your right hand. 
 It may be silly, but I do love your size 
 and vigor ; when I see you in a crowd of 
 average men, I exult in you. Imagine
 
 On any woman who could get you wanting 
 French- a thin, sallow person like Cranbrooke ! " 
 man's " He can be fascinating, when he 
 Bay chooses," said Max. 
 
 " The best thing about Cranbrooke, 
 Max, is that he loves you," answered his 
 wife, wilfully. 
 
 " Then I want you, henceforth, to try 
 to like him better, dear ; to like him for 
 himself. He is coming in answer to my 
 urgent request ; and I feel certain the more 
 you know of him, the more you will trust 
 in him. At any rate, give him as much of 
 your dear self as I can spare, and you will 
 be sure of pleasing me." 
 
 " Max, now I believe it is you who are 
 crying because you are too happy. I 
 never heard such a solemn cadence in your 
 voice. I don't want a minute of this 
 lovely time to be sad. When we were in 
 town, I fancied you were down about 
 something ; now, you are yourself again ; 
 let me be happy without alloy. I am de- 
 termined to be the cigale of the French 
 fable, and dance and sing away the sum- 
 mer. Between us, we may even succeed 
 in making that sober Cranbrooke a reflec-
 
 tion of us both. There, now, the light On 
 has faded ; quicken your speed ; we must French- 
 go ashore and meet him. See, the moon man's 
 has risen O Max darling, to please me, 
 paddle in that silver path ! " 
 
 This was the Ethel her husband liked 
 best to see, a child in her quick varia- 
 tions of emotion, a woman in steadfast ten- 
 derness. Conquering his own strongly ex- 
 cited feeling, he smiled on her indulgently ; 
 and when, their landing reached, Cran- 
 brooke's tall form was descried coming 
 down the bridge to receive them, he was 
 able to greet his friend with an unshad- 
 owed face. 
 
 The three went in to dinner, which 
 Ethel, taking advantage of the soft, dry 
 air, had ordered to be served in a loggia 
 opening upon the water. The butler, a 
 sympathetic Swede, had decked their little 
 round table with wild roses in shades of 
 shell-pink, deepening to crimson. The 
 candles, burning under pale-green shades, 
 were scarcely stirred by the faint breeze. 
 Hard, indeed, to believe that, upon occa- 
 sion, that couchant monster, the bay, could 
 break up into huge waves, ramping shore-
 
 On ward, leaping over the rock wall, upon the 
 French- lawn, up to the loggia floor, and there 
 man's beat for admission to the house, upon 
 Bay storm-shutters hastily erected to meet its 
 onslaught ! 
 
 To-night, a swinging lantern of wrought 
 iron sent down through its panels of opal 
 glass a gentle illumination upon three well- 
 pleased faces gathered around the dainty ' 
 little feast. Ethel, who, in the days of 
 gipsying, would allow no toilets of cere- 
 mony, retained her sailor-hat, with the 
 boat-gown of white serge, in which her 
 infantile beauty showed to its best advan- 
 tage. Cranbrooke was dazzled by the 
 new bloom upon her face, the new light 
 in her eye. 
 
 Pollock, too, tall, broad-shouldered, 
 blonde, clean-shaven save for a mus- 
 tache, his costume of white flannel enhanc- 
 ing duly the transparent healthiness of his 
 complexion, looked wonderfully well so 
 Cranbrooke thought and said. 
 
 " Does he not ? " cried Ethel, exult- 
 ingly. " I knew you would think so. 
 Max has been reconstructed since we have 
 lived outdoors in this wonderful air. Just
 
 wait, Mr. Cranbrooke, till we have done On 
 with you, and you, too, will be blossom- French- 
 ing like the rose." man's 
 
 " I, that was a desert, you would say," Bay 
 returned Cranbrooke, smiling. Involun- 
 tarily it occurred to him to contrast his 
 own outer man with that of his host. 
 Somehow or other, the fond, satisfied look 
 Ethel bestowed upon her lord aroused 
 anew in their friend an old, teasing spirit 
 of envy of nature's bounty to another, 
 denied to him. 
 
 As the moon transmuted to silver the 
 stretch of water east of them, and the three 
 sat over the table, with its carafes and de- 
 canters and egg-shell coffee-cups, till the 
 flame of a cigar-lighter died utterly in its 
 silver beak, their talk touching all subjects 
 pleasantly, Cranbrooke persuaded himself 
 he had indeed been dreaming a bad 
 dream. The journey thither, of which 
 every mile had been like the link of a 
 chain, was, for him, after all, a mere essay 
 at pleasure-seeking. He had come on to 
 spend a jolly holiday with a couple of the 
 nicest people in the world nothing more ! 
 His fancies, his plans, his devices, con- 
 
 ['7']
 
 On ceived in sore distress of spirit, were rele- 
 
 French- gated to the world of shadows, whence 
 
 man's they had been summoned. 
 
 Bay When Ethel left the two men for the 
 
 night, and the butler came out to collect 
 his various belongings, Pollock rose and 
 bade Cranbrooke accompany him to see 
 the mountains from the other side of the 
 house. Here, turning their backs on the 
 enchantment of the water view, they looked 
 up at an amphitheatre of hills, dominated 
 in turn by rocky summits gleaming in the 
 moon. But for the lap of the water upon 
 the coast, the stir of a fresh wind arising 
 to whisper to the leaves of a clump of 
 birches, Mother Earth around them was 
 keeping silent vigil. 
 
 " What a perfect midsummer night ! " 
 said Cranbrooke, drawing a deep breath of 
 enjoyment. " After the heat and dust of 
 that three hundred miles of railway jour- 
 ney from Boston, this is a reward ! " 
 
 " We chose better than we knew the 
 scene of my euthanasia," answered Pol- 
 lock, without a tremor in his voice. 
 
 A thrill ran through Cranbrooke's veins. 
 He could have sworn the air had suddenly
 
 become chill, as if an iceberg had floated On 
 into the bay. He tried to respond, and French- 
 found himself babbling words of weak man's 
 conventionality ; and all the while the soul Bay 
 of the strong man within him was saying : 
 " It must not be. It shall not be. If I 
 live, I shall rescue you from this ghastly 
 phantom." 
 
 " Don't think it necessary to give words 
 to what you feel for me," said Pollock, 
 smiling slightly. " You are not making a 
 brilliant success of it, old man, and you 'd 
 better stop. And don't suppose I mean to 
 continue to entertain my guest by lugubri- 
 ous discussions of my approaching finale. 
 Only, it is necessary that you should know 
 several things, since the event may take 
 us unawares. I have made you my execu- 
 tor, and Ethel gets all there is; that's the 
 long and short of my will, properly signed, 
 attested, and deposited with my lawyer be- 
 fore I left town. Ethel's mother and sis- 
 ters will be returning to Newport in a 
 fortnight, and they will, no doubt, come 
 to the poor child when she needs them. 
 There must be some compensation for a 
 decree of this kind, and I have it in the 
 
 ['73}
 
 On absolute bliss I have enjoyed since we 
 
 French- came here. That child-wife of mine is 
 
 man's the most enchanting creature in the world. 
 
 Bay If I were not steeped in selfishness, I 
 
 could wish she loved me a little less. But 
 
 all emotions pass, and even Ethel's tears 
 
 will dry." 
 
 " Good Heaven, Max, you are talking 
 like a machine ! One would think this 
 affair of yours certain. Who are you, to 
 dare to penetrate the mystery of the de- 
 crees of your Maker " 
 
 " None of that, if you please, Cran- 
 brooke," interrupted Pollock ; " I have 
 fought every inch of the way along there, 
 by myself, and have been conquered by 
 my conviction. Did I tell you that my 
 father, before me, struggled with similar 
 remonstrances from his friends ? The par- 
 sons even brought bell and book to exor- 
 cise his tormentor and all in vain. He 
 was snuffed out in full health, as I shall be, 
 and why should I whine at following him ? 
 Come, my dear fellow, I am keeping you 
 out of a capital bed, from sleep you must 
 require. There 's but one matter in 
 which you can serve me, take Ethel
 
 into your care. Win her fullest confi- On 
 dence ; let her know that when I am not French- 
 there^ you will be." man's 
 
 Cranbrooke went to his room, but not Bay 
 to rest. When his friends next saw him, 
 he was returning from a solitary cruise 
 about the bay in a catboat Pollock kept 
 at anchor near their wharf. 
 
 " Why, Mr. Cranbrooke ! " cried Ethel, 
 lightly. "The boatman says you have 
 been out ever since daybreak. But that 
 we espied the boat tacking about beyond 
 that far rock, I should have been for send- 
 ing in search of you." 
 
 " Cranbrooke is an accomplished sailor," 
 said Max. " But just now, breakfast 's 
 the thing for him, Ethel. See that he is 
 well fed, while I stroll out to the stable 
 and look after the horses." 
 
 As he crossed the greensward, Ethel's 
 gaze followed him, till he disappeared be- 
 hind a clump of trees. Then she turned 
 to her guest. 
 
 " Let me serve you with all there is, 
 until they bring you something hot," she 
 said, with her usual half-flippant consider- 
 ation of him. " Do you know you look 
 
 ['75]
 
 On very seedy ? I have, for my part, no pa- 
 French- tience with these early morning exploits." 
 mans " If you could have seen the world 
 Bay awakening as I saw it, this morning, you 
 would condone my offence," he answered, 
 a curious expression Ethel thought she 
 had detected in his eyes leaving them un- 
 clouded, as he spoke.
 
 Chapter III 
 
 NO one who knew Stephen Cran- On 
 brooke well could say he did any- Frencb- 
 thing by halves. In the days that fol- man's 
 lowed his arrival at Mount Desert, Max Bay 
 Pollock saw that his friend was lending 
 every effort to the task of establishing 
 friendly relations with his wife. From her 
 first half-petulant, half-cordial manner 
 with him, the manner of a woman who 
 tries to please her husband by recognition 
 of the claim of his nearest male intimate, 
 Ethel had passed to the degree of man- 
 ifestly welcoming Cranbrooke's presence, 
 both when with her husband and without 
 him. 
 
 As Max saw this growing friendship, he 
 strove to increase it by absenting himself 
 from Ethel, instead of, as heretofore, 
 spending every hour he could wring from 
 the society of other folk, in the light of 
 her smiles. His one wish that Ethel 
 
 ['77]
 
 On might be insensibly led to find another 
 French- than himself companionable ; that she 
 man's might be, though never so little, weaned 
 Bay from her absolute dependence upon him for 
 daily happiness, before the blow fell that 
 was to plunge her in darkest night, kept 
 him content in these acts of self-sacrifice. 
 But, as was inevitable, his manner 
 toward them both underwent a trifling 
 change. His old buoyancy of affection 
 was succeeded by a quiet, at times wistful, 
 recognition of the fact that his friend and 
 his wife had now found another interest 
 besides himself. But he was proud to see 
 Cranbrooke had justified his boast that he 
 " could be fascinating when he chose ; " 
 and he was glad to think Cranbrooke at 
 last realized the charm Ethel, apparently 
 a mere bright bubble upon the tide of so- 
 ciety, had to a man of intellect and heart. 
 " It was as I said," the poor fellow re- 
 peated to himself, trying to find comfort 
 in the realization of his prescience ; and 
 when Ethel, alone with him, would break 
 into paeans of his friend, and wonder how 
 she could have been so blind to the " real 
 man " before, Max answered her loyally
 
 that his highest wish for both of them was On 
 
 at last gratified. French- 
 
 Then the day came when there was man's 
 question of a companion for Ethel in a Bay 
 sailing-party to which she had accepted an 
 invitation and for Max was destined 
 an emotion something like distaste. 
 
 They were sitting over the breakfast 
 table, a meal no longer exclusive to 
 wife and husband, as had been agreed, but 
 shared by Cranbrooke with due regularity, 
 
 when Ethel broached the subject. 
 
 " You know, Max, I was foolish enough 
 to promise that irresistible Mrs. Clayton 
 
 when she would not take no for an 
 answer, yesterday, that some of us would 
 join her water party to-day. It is to be 
 an idle cruise, with no especial aim 
 luncheon on board their schooner-yacht ; 
 the sort of thing I knew would bore you 
 to extinction being huddled up with the 
 same people half the day." 
 
 "It is the opening wedge if you go 
 to this, you will be booked for others, 
 that's all," said Max, preparing to say, in 
 a martyrized way, that he would accom- 
 pany her, if she liked.
 
 On " Oh, I knew you would feel that ; and 
 
 French- so I told her she must really excuse my 
 man's husband, but that I had no doubt Mr. 
 Bay Cranbrooke would accept with pleasure. 
 You see, Mr. Cranbrooke, what polite in- 
 accuracies you are pledged by friendship 
 to sustain." 
 
 " I will go with pleasure," Stephen said, 
 with what Max thought almost unneces- 
 sary readiness. 
 
 " Bravo ! " cried Ethel. " This is the 
 hero's spirit. And so, Max dear, you 
 will have a long day to yourself while I 
 am experimenting in fashionable pleasur- 
 ing, and Mr. Cranbrooke is representing 
 you in keeping an eye on me." 
 
 " You will, of course, be at home to 
 dinner ? " said her husband. 
 
 " Surely. Unless breezes betray us, and 
 we are driven to support exhausted nature 
 upon hardtack and champagne ; for, of 
 course, all of the Claytons' luncheon will 
 be eaten up, and there are no stores aboard 
 a craft like that. Will you order the 
 buckboard for ten, dear ? We rendezvous 
 at the boat-wharf. And, as there is no 
 telling when we shall be in, don't trouble
 
 to send to meet me. Mr. Cranbrooke and On 
 
 I will pick up a trap to return in." Frtncb- 
 
 Max saw them off in the buckboard ; man's 
 and, as Ethel turned at some little dis- Bay 
 tance and looked back at him, where he 
 still stood on the gravel before their vine- 
 wreathed portal, waving her hand with a 
 charming grace, then settling again to a 
 tete-a-tete with Cranbrooke, he felt vaguely 
 resentful at being left behind. 
 
 The clear, dazzling atmosphere, the 
 sense of youthful vitality in his being, 
 made him repel the idea of exclusion from 
 any function of the animated world. He 
 almost thought Ethel should have given 
 him a chance to say whether or no he 
 would accompany her. Was it not, upon 
 her part, even a little bit a very little bit, 
 lacking in proper wifely feeling, to be so 
 prompt in dispensing with his society, to 
 accept that of others for a whole, long, 
 bright summer's day of pleasuring ? 
 
 This suggestion he put away from him 
 as quickly as it came. He was like a 
 spoiled child, he said to himself, who does 
 not expect to be taken at his word. Ethel 
 well knew his dislike of gossiping groups
 
 On of idle people ; equally well she remem- 
 French- bered, no doubt, his frequent requests that 
 man's she would mingle more with the world, 
 Bay take more pleasure on her own account. 
 And Cranbrooke, dear old Cranbrooke, 
 
 of course he was ready to punish himself 
 by going off on such a party, when it was 
 an opportunity to serve his friend ! 
 
 So Max put his discontent away, and, 
 mounting his horse, went off alone for a 
 ride half around the island, lunching at 
 Northeast Harbor, and returning, through 
 devious ways, by nightfall. 
 
 Restored to healthy enjoyment of all 
 things by his day in the saddle, he turned 
 into the avenue leading to their house, 
 buoyed up by the sweet hope of Ethel 
 returned Ethel on the watch for him. 
 Already, he saw in fancy the gleam of her 
 jaunty white yachting-costume between 
 the tubs of flowering hydrangeas ranged 
 on either side the walk before their door. 
 The lamps inside the " home lights," of 
 which she had once fondly spoken to him 
 
 were already lighted. She would, per- 
 haps, be worrying at his delay. He quick- 
 ened his speed, and rode down the avenue
 
 to the house at a brisk trot. The groom, On 
 who, from the stable, had heard the horse's Frtntk- 
 feet, started up out of the shrubbery to matft 
 meet him. But there was no other indi- Bay 
 cation of a watch upon the movements of 
 the master of the house. 
 
 "Mrs. Pollock has not returned, then ? " 
 he asked, conscious of blankness in his 
 tone. 
 
 " No, sir ; not yet. Our orders were, 
 not to send for her, sir, as there was no 
 knowing when the party would get in." 
 
 " Yes, the breeze has pretty much died 
 out since sunset," said Pollock, endeavor- 
 ing to mask his disappointment by com- 
 monplace. 
 
 He went indoors ; and the house, care- 
 fully arranged though it was, with flowers 
 and furniture disposed by expert hands to 
 greet the returning of the master, seemed 
 to him dull and chill. He ordered a cup 
 of tea for himself, and, bending down, put 
 a match to the little fire of birch-wood 
 always kept laid upon the hearth of their 
 picturesque hall sitting-room. 
 
 In a moment, the curling wreathes of 
 pale azure that arose upon the pyre of
 
 On silvery-barked logs was succeeded by a 
 
 French- generous flame. The peculiarly sweet 
 
 man's flavor of the burning birch was distilled 
 
 Say upon the air. Sipping the cup of tea, as 
 
 he stood in his riding-clothes before the 
 
 fire, Max felt a consoling warmth invade 
 
 his members and expand his heart. 
 
 " They will be in directly," he said ; 
 " and, by George, I shall be as ready for 
 my dinner as they for theirs." 
 
 In one corner of the hall stood a tall, 
 slender-necked vase, where he had that 
 morning watched Ethel arranging a sheaf 
 of goldenrod with brown-seeded marsh- 
 grasses, a combination her touch had 
 made individual and artistic to a striking 
 degree. He recalled how, as she had fin- 
 ished it, she looked around, calling him 
 and Stephen from their newspapers to ad- 
 mire her handiwork. He, the husband, 
 had admired it lazily from his divan of 
 cushions in the corner. Cranbrooke had 
 gone over to stand beside his hostess, and 
 thence they had passed, still in close con- 
 versation, out to the grassy terrace above 
 the sea. 
 
 Now, why should this recollection
 
 awaken in Max Pollock a new sense of On 
 the feeling he had been doing his best to French- 
 dispose of all day ? He could not say ; man's 
 but there it was, to prick him with its in- Bay 
 visible sting. Then, too, the dinner-hour 
 was past, and he was hungry. 
 
 He went out upon the veranda at the 
 rear, and surveyed the expanse of water. 
 Far off, between the electric ball that hung 
 over the wharf of the village, and the point 
 of Bar Island, opposite, he saw a bridge of 
 lights from yachts of all sorts, with which 
 the harbor was now full. He fancied a 
 little moving star of light, that seemed to 
 creep beneath the large ones, might be the 
 Claytons' boat on her return, and, after 
 another interval of watching, called up a 
 wharf authority by telephone, and asked 
 if the Lorelei was in. 
 
 " Not yet, sir," was the reply. " Prob- 
 ably caught out when the wind fell. Will 
 let you know the minute they are in sight." 
 With which assurance Mr. Pollock was 
 finally driven by the pangs of natural appe- 
 tite to sit down alone to a cheerless meal. 
 
 There was a message by telephone, as 
 he finished his repast. The Lorelei was
 
 On i^, :ind Mrs. Pollock desired to speak with 
 
 French- he luasband. 
 
 man's " \ "" - 're all right," Ethel's voice said, 
 
 Bay "and 1 hope you haven't been worried. 
 They insist on our going to dinner at a 
 restaurant, and, of course, you understand, 
 I can't spoil the fun by refusing. Couldn't 
 you come down and meet us ? " 
 
 His first impulse was to say yes ; but a 
 second thought withheld him. He gave 
 her a pleasant answer, however, bidding 
 her enjoy herself without thought of him, 
 and adding : " Cranbrooke will look out 
 for you and bring you home." 
 
 It was quite ten o'clock when they ar- 
 rived at the cottage, Ethel in high spirits, 
 flushed with the excitement of a merry 
 day, full of chatter over people and things 
 Max had no interest in, appealing to 
 Cranbrooke to enjoy her retrospects with 
 her. She was " awfully sorry " about 
 having kept Max from his dinner ; " aw- 
 fully sorry " not to have come home at 
 once, but there was no getting out of 
 the impromptu dinner ; and, of course, 
 they had to wait for it ; and she was
 
 the first, after dinner, to ma _ On 
 
 to go ; Mr. Cranbrooke woui. .ry to French- 
 
 that. man's 
 
 " I don't need any certification, dear," Bay 
 said Max, gently ; but he did not smile. 
 Cranbrooke, who sat with him after sleepy 
 Ethel had retired from the scene, felt his 
 heart wrung at thought of certain things 
 that never entered into Ethel's little head. 
 But he made no effort to dispel the cloud 
 that had settled over his friend's face. 
 
 By and by, Cranbrooke, too, said good- 
 night, and went off into his wing, and Max 
 was left alone with his cigar. 
 
 The day on the water had verified 
 Max's prediction that it would prove " an 
 opening wedge." Ethel, caught in the 
 tide of the season's gaieties, found herself 
 impelled from one entertainment to the 
 other ; their cottage was invaded by call- 
 ers, their little informal dinners were 
 transformed into banquets of ceremony, as 
 choice and more lively than those of their 
 conventional life in town. The only per- 
 sons really satisfied by the change of hab- 
 its in the house were the servants, who.
 
 On like all artists, require a public to set the 
 
 French- seal upon their worth. 
 
 man's Max, bewildered, found himself some- 
 
 Bay times accompanying his wife to her par- 
 ties ; oftener struck with the ghastly 
 inappropriateness of his presence in such 
 haunts stopping at home and deputing 
 to Cranbrooke the escort of his wife. Xo 
 his surprise, he perceived that Cranbrooke 
 was not only ready, but eager, on all occa- 
 sions, to carry Ethel away from him. But 
 then, of course, this was precisely what 
 he had wished. 
 
 And Ethel, who lost no opportunity to 
 tell Max how " good," how " lovely," 
 Cranbrooke had been to her, was she not 
 carrying out to the letter her husband's 
 wishes ? He observed, moreover, that 
 Ethel was even more impressed than he 
 had expected her to be with that quality 
 of" fascination." Cranbrookc's mind was 
 like a beautiful new country into which 
 she was making excursions, she said once ; 
 and Max, after a moment's hesitation, 
 agreed with her very warmly. 
 
 At last, Maxwell Pollock awoke one 
 morning, with a start of disagreeable con-
 
 sciousness,to the fact that this was the eve On 
 of his thirtieth birthday. Occupied as he French- 
 had been with various thoughts that had to man's 
 do with his transient relations to this Bay 
 sublunary sphere, he had actually allowed 
 himself to lose sight of the swift approach 
 of his day of doom. Now, he arose, took 
 his bath, dressed, and without arousing his 
 wife, who, in the room adjoining, slept 
 profoundly after a gay dance overnight, 
 went alone to the waterside, with the in- 
 tention of going out in his canoe. 
 
 Early as he was, Cranbrooke was be- 
 fore him, carrying the canoe upon his 
 head, moving after the fashion of some 
 queer shelled-creature down to the float. 
 
 Max realized, with a sense of keen self- 
 rebuke, that the spectacle of his friend 
 was repellant to him, and the prospect of 
 a talk alone with Stephen on this occa- 
 sion, the last thing he would have chosen. 
 
 And evidently a part of the latter- 
 day revolution of affairs Cranbrooke 
 seemed to have forgotten that this day 
 meant more than another to Pollock. He 
 greeted him cheerily, in commonplace 
 terms, commented on their identity of 
 [rfp]
 
 On fancy in the matter of a paddle at sunrise, 
 
 French- and offered to relinquish the craft in favor 
 
 man's of its owner. 
 
 Bay " Of course not. Get in, will you," 
 
 said Max, throwing off his coat ; and, tak- 
 ing one of the paddles, while Cranbrooke 
 plied the other, their swift, even strokes 
 soon carried them far over toward the 
 illuminated east. 
 
 When well out upon the bay, they 
 paused to watch the red coming of the 
 sun. Beautiful with matin freshness was 
 the sleeping world around them; and, in- 
 spired by the scene, Max, who was kneel- 
 ing in the bow, turned to exclaim to 
 Cranbrooke, with his old, hearty voice, 
 upon the reward coming to early risers in 
 such surroundings. 
 
 " Jove, a man feels born again when he 
 breathes air like this ! " 
 
 Cranbrooke started. It was almost be- 
 yond hope that Max should use such a 
 phrase, in such accents, at such a juncture. 
 Immediately, however, the exhilaration 
 died out of Pollock's manner ; and, again 
 turning away his face, he showed that his 
 thoughts had reverted to the old sore spot. 
 [jpo]
 
 He did not see the expression of almost On 
 womanly yearning in Cranbrooke's face Frencb- 
 when the certainty of this was fixed upon man's 
 his anxious mind. Bay 
 
 The two men talked little, and of casual 
 things only, while abroad. As they re- 
 turned to the house, Cranbrooke made a 
 movement as if to speak out something 
 burning upon his tongue, and then, re- 
 pressing it, walked with hasty strides to 
 his own apartment. 
 
 The day passed as had done those im- 
 mediately preceding it. Calls, a party of 
 guests at luncheon, a drive, absorbed 
 Ethel's hours from her husband. When 
 she reached home, at tea-time, he had 
 come in from riding, and was standing 
 alone in the hall, awaiting her. 
 
 " How nice to find you here alone ! " 
 she cried, going up to kiss him, and then 
 taking her place behind the tea-tray. 
 " Do sit down, and let us imagine we are 
 back in those dear old days before we 
 were overpowered by outsiders. Never 
 mind ! The rush will soon be over; we 
 shall be to ourselves again, you and I and 
 how stupid I am ! " she added, coloring. 
 
 [*?']
 
 On " You and I, I mean, for he must go back 
 
 French- to town." 
 
 man 3 " You mean Cranbrooke ? " he said, as 
 
 Bay she thought, absent-mindedly, but in real- 
 ity with something like a cold hand upon 
 his heart, that for a moment gave him a 
 sense of physical apprehension. Had it 
 come, he wondered ? 
 
 But no, this was not physical ; this was 
 a shock of purely emotional displeasure. 
 Could he believe his ears, that Ethel, his 
 wife, had indeed blended another than 
 himself with her dream of returning sol- 
 itude ? 
 
 " Yes, it will be all over soon," he said, 
 mechanically. " Had you a pleasant 
 drive ? And did you enjoy the box-seat 
 with Egmont ? " 
 
 " Oh ! Egmont, fortunately, can drive 
 if he cant talk," she answered, lightly. 
 " I suppose I am fastidious, or else spoiled 
 for the conversation of ordinary men, after 
 what I have had recently from Cranbrooke. 
 By the way, Max dear, are you relentless 
 against going with us to-night, to the fete 
 at the canoe club ? You need n't go in-
 
 side the club-house, you know. It will On 
 
 be lovely to look at, from the water." Frenck- 
 
 " With us ? Then Cranbrooke has al- man 1 3 
 ready promised ? " Bay 
 
 " Yes, of course ; he could not leave 
 me in the lurch, could he, when my hus- 
 band is such an obstinate recluse ? " 
 
 " And how do you intend to get there ? " 
 
 " By water, stupid, of course ; how 
 else ? I will be satisfied with the row- 
 boat, if you won't trust me in the canoe ; 
 but Mr. Cranbrooke is such an expert 
 with the paddle, I should n't think you 
 would object to letting me go with him. 
 It will be perfectly smooth water, and the 
 air is so mild. Do say I may go in the 
 canoe, dear ; it 's twice the fun." 
 
 " I think you know that, unless I take 
 you, it is my wish you go nowhere at night 
 in a canoe," he answered, coldly. 
 
 Ethel was more hurt at his tone than 
 disappointed by his refusal. She could not 
 think what had come over her husband, 
 of late, so often had this constrained man- 
 ner presented itself to her advance. She 
 set it down to her unwonted indulgence
 
 On in society, and promised herself, with a 
 French- sigh of relinquishment, that, after this 
 man's summer, she would go back to her life 
 Bay lived for Max alone. 
 
 Then, Cranbrooke coming in with two 
 or three visitors, who lingered till almost 
 dinner-time and were persuaded easily to 
 stop for dinner, there was no chance to 
 indulge in meditations, penitential or other- 
 wise. When her guests took their de- 
 parture, it was in the little steam-launch, 
 she and Cranbrooke accompanying the 
 party, and all bound for the fete, to be 
 given on a wooded island in the bay. As 
 they were leaving the house, something 
 impelled her to run back and, in the semi- 
 darkness of the veranda, seek her hus- 
 band's side. 
 
 " Max darling, kiss me good-by. Or, 
 if you want me, let me stay with you." 
 
 " No, no ; I want you to enjoy every 
 moment while you can," he said, with- 
 drawing from her gaze to the shadow of 
 a vine-wreathed column. 
 
 " Max, your voice is strange. And 
 once, at dinner, I saw you looking at me, 
 and there was something in your eyes that
 
 frightened me. If you had n't smiled, and On 
 lifted your glass to pledge me, I should French- 
 not have known what to think." mans 
 
 " Ethel ! Wife ! Do you love me ? " he Bay 
 said, catching her to his heart. 
 
 " Max ! Why, Max ! You foolish boy, 
 we shall be seen." 
 
 " Tell me, and J iss me once more, my 
 own, my own ! " 
 
 " They are all aboard except you, Mrs. 
 Pollock," a voice said ; and, from the dew 
 of the lawn, Cranbrooke stepped upon the 
 veranda. 
 
 Max started violently, and let his wife 
 go from his embrace. 
 
 " You see how rude you are making me 
 toward our guests," said Ethel. " You 
 have my wrap, Mr. Cranbrooke ? Good- 
 night, Max ; and to-morrow I '11 tell you 
 all about it. Better change your mind 
 and come after us, though." 
 
 " Max need not trouble to do so," put 
 in Cranbrooke, in a muffled voice. " As 
 usual, I will fill his place." 
 
 Max thought he almost hurried her 
 away. They went down the slope of the 
 lawn together ; and, at the steep descent
 
 On leading to the bridge, he saw Ethel stum- 
 
 French- ble, and Cranbrooke throw his arm around 
 
 man's her to steady her. 
 
 Bay And now, a passion took possession of 
 
 Maxwell Pollock's being that impelled 
 him to the impetuous action of following 
 them to the wharf, and gesticulating 
 madly after the swift little steamer that 
 bore them away from him. 
 
 " He dared take her, did he, when she 
 would have stayed at a word from me ? I 
 see all, now. Specious, false, damnably 
 false, he has snared her fancy in his net. 
 But she loves me, I '11 swear she loves me, 
 and I '11 snatch her from him, if it is with 
 the last effort of my strength. Is there 
 time ? Well, what is to come, let it come ! 
 While there 's life in me, she is mine." 
 
 A moment, and he was afloat in the 
 canoe, no sign of weakness in his power- 
 ful stroke with the paddle, no thought in 
 his brain but the one intense determination 
 of the male creature to wrest his beloved 
 from the hands of his rival. 
 
 Every one conceded this to be quite the 
 prettiest and most taking event of the sea- 
 -
 
 son. The rustic club-house, its peaked On 
 gable and veranda defined with strings of French- 
 colored lanterns, sent forth the music of a man's 
 band, while to its portal trooped maidens Bay 
 and cavaliers, landing at the wharf from 
 every variety of craft. The woods be- 
 hind were linked with chains of light, the 
 shore below lit with bonfires, and more 
 evanescent eruptions of many-hued fire- 
 works. Rockets hissed through the air, 
 and broke in a rain of violet, green, and 
 crimson meteors, till the zenith was a tan- 
 gled mesh made by the trails of them ; fire- 
 balloons arose and were lost among the 
 stars ; little fire-boats, launched from ves- 
 sels stocked for the purpose, bore their 
 blazing cargoes out upon the tide ; other 
 unnamed monsters were let loose to carry 
 apparent destruction zigzag through the 
 waves. Every attendant yacht, sloop, 
 launch, rowboat, or canoe, with which the 
 water about the island was covered, carried 
 quaint decoration in the guise of Chinese 
 lanterns. Some of the smaller boats were 
 arched with these ; others tossed bouquets 
 of fiery bubbles into the air. Creeping 
 about at a snail's pace among the crowded 
 
 ['97]
 
 On boats, invisible canoes carried silent pas- 
 
 French- sengers ; an occasional " oh ! " of excla- 
 
 man's mation at the beauty of the scene, the only 
 
 Bay contribution people felt inclined to make 
 
 to conversation. It was a pageant of be- 
 
 dazzlement, as if witches, gnomes, spirits 
 
 of earth, air, and the underworld, had 
 
 mingled their resources to enchant the 
 
 eyes of mortals. And over all, sailed the 
 
 lady-moon serenely, forgotten, but sure that 
 
 her time would come again. 
 
 Max found his launch without diffi- 
 culty, on the outer circle of the amphi- 
 theatre of light. As he had divined, it 
 was empty, save for the two boatmen. 
 
 " The ladies went ashore, sir," one of 
 his men said, in answer to his inquiry. 
 " All but Mrs. Pollock, sir." 
 
 " Mrs. Pollock ? Where is she, then ? " 
 he asked, briefly. 
 
 " She took our rowboat, sir, and went 
 off" on the water with one of the gentle- 
 men. Mr. Cranbrooke, I think it was; 
 and they ordered us to wait just here. 
 No good going ashore, sir, if you want to 
 see. It 's better from this point, even, than 
 nearer in."
 
 " Very well," said the master, and at On 
 once his canoe moved off to be lost in the French- 
 crowd. man's 
 
 He had sought for them in vain, peer- Bay 
 ing into all the small boats whenever the 
 flash-light of the rockets, or the catharine- 
 wheels on the coast, lit the scene. Many 
 a tender interlude was thus revealed ; but 
 of the two people he now longed with the 
 fever of madness to discover, he saw 
 nothing. 
 
 At last, in a burst from a candle rocket, 
 there was a glimpse of Ethel's red boat- 
 cloak, her bare, golden head rising above 
 it. She was sitting in the stern of the 
 rowboat, Cranbrooke beside her, their 
 bow above water, their oars negligently 
 trailing. Ethel's eyes were fixed upon the 
 glittering panorama ; but Cranbrooke's 
 eyes were riveted on her. 
 
 With an oath, Max drove his paddle 
 fiercely into the sea. The canoe sped 
 forward like an arrow. Blind with anger, 
 he did not observe that he was directly in 
 the track of a little steamer laden with 
 new arrivals, turning in toward the wharf.
 
 On A new day dawned before the doctors, 
 
 French- who had been all night battling for Max- 
 
 man's well Pollock's life, left him restored to 
 
 Bay consciousness, and reasonably secure of 
 
 carrying no lasting ill effect from the blow 
 
 on his head received by collision with the 
 
 steamer. 
 
 Carried under with his canoe, he had 
 arisen to full view in the glare from a 
 " set piece " of fireworks on the shore, 
 beside the boat containing Cranbrooke and 
 his wife. It was Cranbrooke, not Ethel, 
 who identified the white face coming to 
 the surface within reach of his hand, then 
 sinking again out of sight. It was Cran- 
 brooke, also, who sprang to Pollock's res- 
 cue, and, floating with his inert body, was 
 dragged with him aboard the launch. 
 
 As the rosy light of the east came to 
 play upon Pollock's features, he opened 
 his eyes for the first time with a look 
 of intelligence. At his bedside, Ethel was 
 kneeling, her whole loving soul in her 
 gaze. 
 
 " Is this I thought it was heaven," 
 he said, feeling for her hand. 
 
 " It is heaven for me, now that I have
 
 you back, my own darling," she answered, On 
 through happy tears. French* 
 
 " Have I been here long ? " man 1 ! 
 
 " A few hours since the accident. The Bay 
 doctors say you will be none the worse 
 for it. And, Max dear, only think ! This 
 is your birthday ! Your thirtieth birth- 
 day ! Many, many, many happy returns ! " 
 and she punctuated her wish with warm 
 kisses. 
 
 At that juncture, Cranbrooke came into 
 the room and stood at the side of the bed 
 opposite Ethel, who had no eyes for him, 
 but kept on gazing at her recovered treas- 
 ure as if she could never have enough. 
 
 Max, though aware of Stephen's pres- 
 ence, made no movement of recognition, 
 till Ethel spoke in playful chiding. 
 
 u Darling ! Where are your manners ? 
 Are n't you going to speak to our friend, 
 and thank him for saving you saving 
 you for me, thank God ! " 
 
 She buried her face in the bed-clothes, 
 overcome with the recollection ; but even 
 with the exquisite tenderness of her ac- 
 cents thrilling in his ear, Max remained 
 obstinately dumb to Stephen Cranbrooke.
 
 On " Forgive him ; he is not himself ! " 
 
 French- pleaded Ethel, as she saw Cranbrooke 
 man's about to go dejectedly out of the room. 
 Bay " Some day he will understand me," 
 
 answered Stephen, with a gallant effort at 
 self-control. Then, withdrawing, he mur- 
 mured to himself: "But he will never 
 know that, in playing with his edged tools, 
 it is I who have got the death-blow." 
 
 [202-]
 
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