IRVINE, i ** DWELLERS IN GOTHAM Homance of Nero flork BY ANNAN DALE ; \l NEW YORK : EATON & MAINS CINCINNATI : CURTS & JENNINGS TG3 Copyright by EATON & MAINS, 1898. To those who have adopted the Motto, " For the wrong that needs resistance, For the right that needs assistance, For the future in the distance, And the good that I can do," This book is gratefully dedicated. NEW YORK. 1898. CONTENTS. BOOK I. BREAD. Chapter Page I. College Cronies 3 II. A Family Council 10 III. Sister and Brother 17 IV. Mark Brompton's Nephew 26 V. A Bohemian Outing 32 VI. A Reverend Radical 40 VII. Making Stones into Bread 50 VIII. The Dream and the Reality 58 IX. Angels of Flesh and Blood 64 X. An Evening at Dr. Disney's 72 XI. A Sunday on the East Side 82 XII. Why Elinor Became " Sister Nora" 90 XIII. Hugh Dunbar Has a Revelation 99 XIV. A Tortoise and His Shell 107 XV. The Steamer and the Barge 1 16 XVI. A Social Science Congress 126 BOOK II. PRIDE. XVII. The Brompton Household 141 XVIII. The Firm of Linsey & Woolsey 152 XIX. A Downtown Boarding House 162 XX. The Marriage Syndicate 170 XXI. Wee Jamie 182 v vl CONTENTS. Chapter Page XXII. A Trades Union Meeting 193 XXIII. Mrs. Gubbins Asks Questions 206 XXIV. Broadway by Gaslight 215 XXV. Dick Whittington's Cat 227 XXVI. The Real Dr. Disney 236 XXVII. Madge is Worldly Wise 246 XXVIII. The Mysterious Consultation 254 BOOK III. AMBITION. XXIX. John Disney's Scheme 265 XXX. Madge Visits the Mission 275 XXXI. Dixon Faber : Boy and Man 284 XXXII. Ethel Brompton's Choice 296 XXXIII. John Disney Hits Hard 305 XXXIV. An Evening at Mr. Keen's 318 XXXV. A Black Eye 328 XXXVI. Concerning Mrs. Smithers 337 XXXVII. Ethel Brompton's Wedding 348 XXXVIII. Dr. Bland of St. Ezekiel's 360 XXXIX. Edward Vaughen's Sad Discovery 367 XL. Mr. Blinks and Mr. Winks 375 Epilogue 384 BOOK I.-BREAD DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. CHAPTER I. College Cronies. ^ CTYHERE is nothing about books that to me is so dull, so dreary, and so useless as a J[ preface. If an author has anything to say, why not say it in the book itself, and not weary one with prologues and announcements ? " and with an impatient gesture the speaker shut the book which he held in his hand ; but, finding that this did not quite meet the necessities of the case, he began pacing up and down the room with considerable vigor. " What you say is true, but why waste so much energy upon such a trifle ? Here you are striding around and consuming yourself generally, simply be cause your author invited you to enter his house by a graceful, winding path instead of the common, pro saic door," was the answer of a young man who was languidly smoking a "bull-dog" briar, and with the same languor was watching the tiny smoke rings floating over his head and beyond the couch upon which he was comfortably stretched. " I don't object to winding paths, or even drive ways and avenues, if they are necessary, but when a man's house is on the street, and that street a public 3 4 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. thoroughfare, why the way in should be through a series of vestibules all posters and placards is not quite clear to my mind;" and the eyes still glowed, though with less fire, and the striding was not quite so vehement. " Ah ! my dear boy, the number of things which are not quite clear to your mind reach out beyond the limits of even my comprehension. It grieves me to think that the cloudiness and general obscura tion of which you complain are natural ; but you are young, and your case is by no means hopeless. ' Don't give up the ship,' and remember I arn your friend ;" and with an indolence worthy of an Oriental he allowed his eyes listlessly to follow the rings of smoke in the direction of the open window. " Well, if it pleases you to think that I am dense and sublimely stupid, you will be sufficiently just to make proper allowance for my associations. One thing, however, you have not done, and that is, made me as easy and indifferent as yon are. I still take an interest in things and in people, and the concerns of this world are matters of concern to me ; but you look on and smile on, like a graven cherub in some cathedral ; " and the tone, though of good-humored banter, was edged with delicate reproof. " I thought it was coming! Now bring on your 'Macedonian cry,' also the 'sad undertone of life,' and don't forget ' the pitiful and pathetic struggle.' It is fully three days since you aired the ' woes and wrongs ' and the ' sacred rights trampled.' Meantime let me so arrange these pillows that the body of my flesh may not impede the high movement of your COLLEGE CRONIES. 5 soul ; " and, so saying, he assumed an air of patient endurance. " O, thou well-fed, well-clad, well-formed Gallic ! Little dost thou care for the riot in the market place, or the angry mob shouting and struggling. For Gallio fares sumptuously every day. He has a handsome allowance from his father ; he can fit up his apart ments as he pleases ; upon him no burden or obliga tion rests. Then why should he trouble or vex his complacent soul with the ' woes and wrongs' which sit so lightly on his tongue, or with the 'Macedonian cry ' which he has never heard ? " "Capital! You have struck a new lead, old fel low. That Gallio idea is fine ; but now, as a worthy Roman who had the good sense to mind his own business, he commends himself most refreshingly. I am glad you brought him with you this afternoon. Bring him again, and I would suggest him as some thing of an example for yourself. As between Paul, the iconoclast, and Demetrius, the labor agitator, I would do just as Gallio did drive the whole raft of wranglers away and let them settle their dispute else where ; " and the smoke rings curled as gracefully as ever, and were followed with the same languid in terest. "Yes, but wasn't it cowardly a mean evasion of responsibility? It was his place to give judgment; he was there to settle just such disputes, and for a man arbitrarily to dispose of the whole business as he did shows an utter indifference to the claims of jus tice;" and the eyes had now regained their former glow, and the face was full of earnestness. 6 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. " Now, Vanghen, as your * guide, philosopher, and friend,' let me give you some good advice. It is very evident that you don't understand Gallic ; this, however, is only natural, as he was before your time. It is a disadvantage to be either behind or before your age. David, Israel's favorite king, had the good sense to * serve his own generation,' which accounts for his general success. These Utopian men who insist upon climbing the hills of futurity and plan ning for the interests of unborn millions are exceed ingly tiresome. It is true that Solomon did not say, * Make hay while the sun shines,' but he did say, * The churning of milk bringeth forth butter,' which means practically the same thing. Take my advice, and churn milk. Improve the breed and condition of the cows ; see that the pasturage is good ; get the latest and most improved churn ; let butter be your objective point. The world insists upon your making butter, and the more of it you can make and market the better for yourself and all concerned." The place was a New England college town ; the speakers were Edward Vanghen and John Disney; the time was the month of June, and the year was early in the nineties. The room was Disney's, but the close companionship of four years had given Vaughen a sense of ownership little less, if, indeed, anything, than that of the legal occupant. Entering college at the same time, both fairly studious and having many things in common, the young men be came fast friends, and now that they were to separate within a few weeks much of their last days were spent together. COLLEGE CRONIES. 7 When Vaughen spoke of Disney as a well-fed, well-clad, and well-formed Gallio he was justified in large measure, for there was in Disney's bearing and appearance every indication of ample means and luxurious tastes. His room was richly furnished, though the effect was thoroughly masculine. True, no imposing pugilists in warlike attitudes, with hands about the size of a huge dumpling and very much in the foreground, occupied the place of honor over the mantelpiece ; neither was there the usual group of celebrities whose fields of distinction varied all the way from dime museums to Metropolitan Opera Houses ; nor was there any pretentious display of Indian clubs and golf sticks and fishing rods so arranged as to suggest the athlete and the sportsman, an arrangement, by the way, often only a delusion and a snare. Still, despite its daintiness and color and the absence of anything suggestive of the " sport," the room had a virility distinctively its own, and which no one could call in question. The same was true of Disney himself ; for he could pull an oar, swing a bat, don the gloves in short, do anything that was expected of a strong, active young fellow. Among certain of the college men he was very popular, for though he could say sharp things, yet he was never ungenerous nor hurtful, and his keen weapon rarely flashed save for amusement. Vaughen afforded him rare enjoyment, for Yaughen was ardent, full of sympathy, easily aroused, rather inclined, however, to heroics, and upon his favorite themes he would declaim and orate 8 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. in a dramatic but somewhat tragic way. Then Vaughen had tendencies toward socialism which he aired with much freedom and fluency, but as he knew even less of socialism than of the Northwest Passage these tendencies were fairly vague and indefinite. But, like all young men of his temperament, he was shy of definitions, and as for cold, rigorous logic, he treated it much as the priest and the Levite did the poor fellow who lay on the roadside between Jeru salem and Jericho. Nevertheless it was really pleas ant to hear him so earnestly espouse the cause of the common people, and the fact that he knew nothing whatever concerning the real merits of the question added, if anything, to the satisfaction of listening to him. But orators have no right to be held down to the dead level of plain facts and common statistics. An imagination which was intended to fly at will in the upper heavens should not be treated as a barn yard fowl. At least so John Disney reasoned, and, knowing that Edward Vaughen was not seriously embarrassed by either the extent or the accuracy of his information, he could not but enjoy his oratory. " You started in by saying something concerning a preface," said Disney, " but with characteristic and becoming consistency you have wandered from your theme like the sheep from the fold, and unless some kind shepherd goes after you and brings you back yon will be lost among the mountains." " I may have wandered from the preface, but I tell you, Disney, it is not the one sheep which is hungry and homeless on the desolate hills ; the ninety COLLEGE CRONIES. 9 and nine are there. Think of the want, the poverty, the hopeless misery " " O, Vaughen ! It is only a day or two since you went all over this, and with these same sheep too. Now, I don't like sheep. A sheep never had the same attraction for me that a goat has. There is something positively funny about a goat. A goat's eye has a twinkle as though there were mischief be hind it, and the way in which a goat will stand up and face a frowning world is simply heroic. But a sheep is altogether too saintly. Don't, therefore, make such harrowing and distressful appeals to me. I didn't make this world ; it was here before I came, and will be here when I am gone, and if you spend your time declaiming about ' woes ' and ' wrongs,' just remem ber, my dear boy, that no butter will come from your churn, and as I have often urged upon you, butter, the right kind of butter, is a decided addition to bread. To get bread is comparatively easy, but to get bread and butter in harmonious and abundant re lations is the problem of life. The bread board apart from the churn means barrenness, if not barbarism. Hobbs, who lives down in the town in a small tene ment, and who can hardly make ends meet, he has bread, but no butter ; Dobbs, who lives up here on the hill in his big house and with every comfort, he has both bread and butter. See ? But my pipe has gone out ; let us do the same." 10 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. CHAPTER II. A Family Council. >"/OHN DISNEY was not provokingly and aj \ gressively rich, as Edward Yaughen mig] QJ seem to suggest, for while he had a generoi college allowance, still his father was neither a rai road magnate nor a cotton king, and not even a cor mon millionaire. Dr. Disney, however, was on i; timate terms with many of these magnates an kings, for he was a physician of extensive practi< among some of the most wealthy and influential fan ilies in New York, and enjoyed in consequence very handsome revenue. When it is said that Dr. Disney's services were : the most urgent demand by a certain class whoi ailments are not obtrusive nor alarming no reflectic is intended, for Dr. Disney was skillful, and in son respects a master in his profession ; but he had di covered that there were those who enjoyed the visi of a doctor, provided he maintained an irreproac able brougham, and whose coming to a house co duced to its importance and dignity. His broughar therefore, was a model of its kind ; and seemed partake of the bearing and character of its occupan It was not somber, neither was it pretentious, yet was essentially dignified and suggestive, and peop instinctively looked from it to the house befo which it stood, the one somehow reflecting upon tl A FAMILY COUNCIL. 11 other. His horses, though full-blooded and capable of good work when required, behaved with a due sense of the proprieties ; hence there was no jerky switching of tails, no impatient pawing and stamping of feet, no restless twitching and shaking of heads, such as other horses indulge in when the call has been unreasonably prolonged. With a keen sense of the rank and dignity which they were required to maintain they pointedly refused to recognize any of their kin save those who could claim perfect equality, and the contempt with which they received advances from a hired hack or a dry -goods wagon was in the highest form of equine etiquette. As for the coachman, he was a Personage. His livery was sedate and impressive ; his face was both proud and profound. With a bearing which nothing human could disturb he occupied his exalted position, scarcely deigning by a glance to notice the unhappy creatures who were compelled to use the sidewalk. But, while Dr. Disney's appointments met the de mands of the most exacting, they were also in per fect accord with his own gracious and imposing per sonality. Besides being dignified, Dr. Disney was of stalwart proportions, of handsome countenance, of stately figure, while, in addition, there was an air of conscious superiority which potently diffused itself, so that the very atmosphere in which he lived and moved and had his being seemed charged with mysterious suggestions of greatness and skill. No man in New York knew better the value of appearances, and no man knew better how to maintain them with seem- 12 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. ingly no intention of doing so. He was never af fected, but always careful ; never excited, but always calm and deliberate ; and the quiet, dignified way in which he entered the home of a patient was a study in the art of deportment. "And how is our friend this morning?" was a favorite salutation, and by judicious use of emphasis and intonation he contrived to make " our friend " feel fairly comfortable, particularly if the sickness was largely imaginative a circumstance by no means rare. Being a man, he could not well possess the " low, sweet voice " which is a woman's peculiar gift, but the masculinity of his tones was tempered with a nicety of shading that was simply exquisite. At the proper time many of his patients went to Newport, to the Berkshires, and to Europe for just that peculiar tonic or change of air which was essen tial in each case, and, as a proof of his undoubted skill in diagnosis and interpretation of symptoms, in every instance the patient was sent to the very place which had been chosen before even the doctor gave his opinion I His general methods were both popular and suc cessful, and as his popularity gave him much per sonal satisfaction, and his success yielded him a hand some income, he had no special cause for complaint. Dr. Disney, however, was not a happy man. No one looking at that face, which now at fifty was almost as ruddy and as free from the marks of care as in his early manhood, would suspect anything of mystery and sorrow, yet behind the open smile, the frank, blue eye, the cheery, cordial greeting, A FAMILY COUNCIL. 13 there was something which now and then cast a deep shadow full upon his path, causing an anxiety at times so intense as to banish sleep, and to make him seem but the semblance of his former self. Even on the street, when driving to the homes of his patients, something like a key would unlock the mystic doors ; a strained, anxious look would come upon him ; for the moment he seemed haunted, startled, but his strong will soon reasserted itself, so that when he left the carriage and went up the steps of the house to which he had been summoned there was no trace of agitation whatever, and he was the same calm, suave physician as before. "John's letters have given me some concern of late," he said to Mrs. Disney, as they sat in the library in the rare enjoyment of an evening free from any professional or social engagement, and when at such times family councils usually were held. " In what way ? " replied Mrs. Disney, though the reply was in the form of a question, and accom panied by a look of serious inquiry. " Well, I hardly know, but somehow a feeling of uneasiness is associated with almost every letter of his, more especially during the past few months." " He has not been overexerting himself, I hope ? " and this time it was the mother voice which gave ac cent and emphasis to the inquiry. " O, no ! John has neither overworked himself in study nor abused himself in play, for he is too idle for the one and too lazy for the other ; " this, how ever, in a tone which had more of approval than re proof. 14 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. "What, then, gives you concern? Has John fallen into bad habits or taken up with objectionable people?" and by this time Mrs. Disney had finished her coffee and was leaning over that she might see her husband's face. " No ; there is no trouble of that sort. John does not return heavily burdened with honors and medals, but his college life generally has been all right." " Then the only thing is money, and that need not astonish you, for John never was a brilliant econo mist. Still " giving a look around, taking in the luxurious library, with its big easy chairs, its rare old engravings, its book shelves filled with the choicest and richest literature, its varied and costly bric-a- brac " we are really not so poor after all, and if John has been a little bit extravagant we must only put up with it." " It isn't exactly money, and yet it relates to money, for, if I understand the case, John has got hold of some socialistic notions and is beginning to pose as an advanced reformer." " "What ! John a socialist ! O, that is impossible ! " exclaimed Mrs. Disney, whose ideas of socialism were of the fierce, lurid type made familiar by Car- tyle's French devolution, and still more recently in the Paris Commune ; hence the possibility of her son being of that uncouth, unsavory multitude, with matted hair, ragged beard, generally unkempt and disreputable, was anything but pleasant to one so re fined and sensitive. "That is Edward Vaughen's work," broke in Madge Disney, John's only sister and his junior by A FAMILY COUNCIL. 15 some three years, a young lady with whom we are likely to have a more intimate acquaintance. " Last season at Newport Edward Yaughen, John's particu lar crony, spent part of the vacation with us, and he had all sorts of notions and fancies. I saw quite a little of him, and, indeed, I rather enjoyed his pet phrases about ' the seriousness of life,' ' the evasion of responsibility,' and all that kind of thing a rather good-looking fellow, but perfectly harmless." " What do you mean by ' harmless ? ' " said Dr. Disney, rising from his chair and going over to the mantelpiece, upon which he rested his hand, mean while smiling pleasantly at his daughter. " Just this : the socialism that John will acquire from Mr. Yaughen is not at all dangerous. The fact is " and here Madge allowed the bright laugh which had been accumulating for some minutes to ripple out in her speech until every word tinkled and chimed with girlish merriment " Mr. Yaughen is merely a faddist ; he has taken this up as a means of gaining some little distinction which was not other wise possible to him ; he likes to warm himself at the fire of his own eloquence. He has two or three pet theories which he rubs together as Robinson Crusoe did his bits of wood, and the tiny flame seen through the eyes of his self-conceit appears a positive confla gration." " Still he has inoculated John with some of the virus," said the doctor, lapsing for the moment into professional phrase. "Yes; but the virus, as you call it, won't 'take' in any alarming way. * Take ' is the proper term, is 16 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. it not ? I have heard Mr. Vaughen talk in the most deliciously bewildering way of the ' unearned incre ment 'and 'grinding monopolies,' but the poor fel low hadn't the faintest idea of either the one or the other. There was no particular harm in my appear- in": to be interested, and so I asked him to tell me O just what he meant, when he blushed and stam mered and floundered around in the most delightful way. Mr. Vaughen is a social theosophist, a soap- bubble reformer, a cloud-dweller and substitute philanthropist, who will probably get some sense later on." " You seem to have made the most of your oppor tunities," laughed Dr. Disney. "He was genuinely interesting, I admit. He was both pathetic and bathetic. He brought in ' the toil ing millions' and 'life's sad undertone' most dra matically ; but better than all, the young man took himself seriously, which added by so much to the occasion." " It would distress me exceedingly to have John take any part in such follies and theories," said Mrs. Disney, " for few young men have better prospects and opportunities." " There is no cause for anxiety," answered Madge. " We all know John ; with him the horny-handed son of toil may be both a man and a brother, but John, as he says himself, Mikes his bread well but tered,' and unless all signs fail he will have his bread well buttered from now on." SISTER AND BROTHER. 17 CHAPTER III. Sister and Brother. WHEN Madge Disney in her eager, character istic way said, " We all know John," she used a common, everyday phrase, yet a more misleading or deceptive form of speech it would be difficult to imagine. There is an inscrutable mystery surrounding every life, and into that mystery no one ever penetrates. That mountain in yon distant wilderness, wrapped in smoke, burning in flame, trembling in thunder, and out of whose solemnity and grandeur a great voice sounds as of a mighty trumpet, is more than the sublime vision of a Hebrew seer ; it is a type of the mystery and awfulness of human life, a life that is so distinct and solitary as to invest it with a sacred- ness which must not be profaned. We know each other's names ; we have a general idea of each other's form and appearance ; occasion ally we pick up a pebble on the beach of each other's character and disposition, but beyond this no one ever goes. Under the soft moss of gentle manner there are masses of granite of which we do not dream ; under the sloping hills with their vineyards purpling in the sun a volcano is hidden. The body which we have thought was a temple enshrining beauty and purity is often only a lair for a ravenous beast ; and the bosom which we imagined a holy altar 18 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. often flames with the most intense and degrading passion. The brilliant pupil of Gamaliel never uttered a more profound truth than when he said, " For what man knoweth the things of a man, save the spirit of man which is in him ? " Now here was John easy, careless, with a vein oi cynicism which gave color and vividness to his con versation ; one whom no one suspected of strong con viction or deep feeling ; not without principle, but seemingly without earnestness; outwardly content with himself and his surroundings ; and though by no means unfeeling or indifferent, yet so far his exer tions for the well-being of mankind had been limited to the promotion of his own comfort. This John Madge knew ; but the real John, the John like some cathedral inclosed within planken walls and hidden behind staging and scaffolding, was a being of whom she knew nothing whatever. For some time, however, Dr. Disney had sus pected that John was not all on the surface, and that back of his languid, graceful indolence there was a strong, masterful spirit which in time would assert itself. It was the custom of the Disneys to leave town early in June, but this year as an affectionate com pliment to John they remained at home until he had returned from college. Indeed, it was in the plans of the family to attend commencement, but the sudden and serious illness of Mrs. Disney's father summoned her to his bedside, and though Dr. Disney was anxious that Madge should share in the college SISTER AND BROTHER. 19 festivities, still under the circumstances she thought it best to remain at home. For a girl just turned twenty years of age, and who was supposed to be impulsive, Madge possessed her full share of worldly wisdom. Quick, bright, keea;~wi& speech, as nimble and sure-footed as a chamois; with a calm assurance which was as pro nounced as it was ladylike ; with a serene confidence in herself which, though just a little imperious, was always attractive; having, besides, a good, sound heart and a wholesome conscience, she was quite a fa vorite in her immediate circle. Beyond that circle, however, Madge was not so definitely popular ; as, for instance, among the Fitz Noodles, the Van Boodles, the McSwoodles, and certain other members of New York's proud nobility whose ancestors came over on the Mayflower, though, strange to say, their names are not found in the roll of that brave ship's pas sengers. But what right has anyone to crawl under the ruins of the centuries looking for " logs " and " lists," and putting pages of faded handwriting be neath a microscope ? Such a proceeding is positively cruel, for it permits no generous use of the imagina tion. Why not allow Mrs. Fitz Noodle the rewards and benefits of her illustrious kinship? Anyone looking at her row of chins, three in number, descend ing in elegant curves upon her antique but ample bosom ; her graceful nose, with broad foundations and celestial terminations ; her low, narrow forehead, sicklied over with the pale cast of a weak digestion, can see at once her high lineage, and if her great 20 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM progenitor happened to be a foretopman on the May flower are not her claims to a lofty descent abun dantly verified ? These things should not be laughed at, nor even spoken of lightly. It is true that some most unworthy and irreverent people sit on the benches in Central Park during the early summer afternoons, and when such distin guished persons as the Van Boodles and the Mc- Swoodles in their stately and imposing carriages roll by nudge each other and say, " Soap," " Patent Medi cine," " Spades and Shovels," " Beer," and other coarse and unfeeling expressions ; but who can tell how much spite and envy have to do with this open contempt of pedigree ? The man on the bench may be just as much of a snob as the man in the carriage. That supercilious smile from the benches is often but a flimsy disguise with which disappointment would fain hide itself. But while Madge affected a certain democracy of air and bearing there was something in the poise of her shapely head, in the set of her well-formed shoulders, in the look of her clear, gray eyes, which could not be mistaken, and which assured for her rec ognition as of the Gotham aristocracy. She could, therefore, afford to make light of some things which others held in much esteem. Still she was full of tact, and seldom ran counter to the customs and de crees of the august Gothamites. She declined, there fore, to accept her father's proposition to attend the commencement festivities, though in all honesty this declination involved severe disappointment. " John," she said one morning, several days after SISTER AND BROTHER. 21 her brother had returned from college and the doctor had started on his round for, though, the season was well on, a number of his patients were yet in town " what are you going to do with your self now that you are at home ? " " Do you mean your question for to-day or to morrow or next day ? " " I think I can answer for to-day or to-morrow, but it is the next day and the day after to which I refer ; " going over to the piano, ostensibly to gather up and arrange some music which had been taken from the rack, but in reality to have John's face in a better light, for Madge meant this to be a serious conversation. John Disney had an open, frank countenance, and Madge was familiar with its every movement and expression ; hence her anxiety to note the effect of her words. " Frankly, Madge, I don't know," said John, play ing idly with a birthday charm which hung on his watch chain, but it was evident that the subject was one of special interest. " But I thought you did know, for was it not un derstood that you would continue in your studies and in due time take up some of papa's work, and eventually share his practice ? " "Yes, that was the plan, but my thoughts now take a different course." " Still, a professional life is one of recognized standing, in many respects to be preferred to any other;" and by this time Madge had gathered up the stray music, seated herself at the piano, and 22 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. was touching the keys lightly yet perceptibly, thus relieving the conversation from overseriousness. "Very true, my wise and venerable sister, but the matter with me is not altogether one of stand- ing." "What is it then?" " I wish you could answer it for me, for I most assuredly cannot answer it for myself." "But what brought this change about? You know what papa expects and how disappointed he will be." " Of course I do, and I am sorry for him, but the fact remains that I have no inclination whatever for his profession, and, moreover, I am utterly un fitted for it." " Why, how can that be ? It seems to me that you were * born in the purple,' and have only to assume your inheritance in due season ; " and now Madge had wheeled around from the piano and was looking ear nestly at her brother. " You asked me a moment since, Madge, what I was going to do with myself, and the whole diffi culty is just there. It is the ' myself ' which em barrasses me. I can do something with my educa tion, particularly if I complete the course which was originally intended. I can do something with my talents, for though I do not claim any remarkable gifts, still I have sense enough not to go into the napkin business, and dig a hole in the earth. I can do something with my opportunities, for there are openings possible to me which I fully appreciate ; still the question of 'myself remains unanswered, and SISTER AND BROTHER. 23 that is the question which troubles me. In other words, where can I put my life to the best use, so that it may tell upon the best life of others ? is the prob lem that I am trying to solve, and I confess that so far I am baffled." Madge was startled. She had never seen John in any such mood as this. Usually he was light, easy, bantering, not exactly frivolous, still a good deal of a trifler, and disposed generally to put aside anything that was serious. But he was serious now ; she could see it in his face, hear it in his voice, and feel it in his soul. Still, there was a measure of im patience in both her face and tone as she replied : " I am afraid Mr. Yaughen has had something to do with this. Last summer I wondered if his influence was just the right sort for yon, and a few weeks since, when papa was speaking of some notions of yours, I put the whole blame upon Mr. Yaughen." " Yaughen ! " and here John allowed the grave, serious look to pass away into a smile ; " the dear fel low has his hobbies and theories, but there is nothing serious in either them or himself. Lots of college men take up with that sort of thing. Stubbs his father is a banker, one of the most careful in the city would divide up the whole business, giv ing share and share alike, after the manner of a certain time with which the name of Ananias is un pleasantly associated. But we take Stubbs with sun dry grains of salt. Knobbs is anxious to be at the head of a ' community,' but Knobbs is at heart one of the most exclusive fellows you could imagine. He won't travel in the day coach of a common train, nor 24 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. take a meal in a public restaurant, or do anything that will bring him near the average man ; neverthe less he airs himself on the community scheme after the manner of an apostle. Jenks is full of cooperation ; tap him anywhere, and like maple trees in the season trickling with sap, so he trickles with cooperation. The fact that his father is at the head of a big trust, and that there have been any number of scandals connected with that trust, doesn't affect Jenks. Jenks is immense ; I don't mean in size, but in his own opinion, and for an hour now and then he is rare sport." By this time, John was the gay light-hearted youth of the morning, droll in his own inimitable way, while Madge was laughing heartily. " Madge," said John, a few minutes later, " what say you to a run to Coney Island ? We can get a sniff of the sea, hear some music, see crowds of people, and generally enjoy ourselves." "Coney Island! What would mamma say, or papa ? " " I have spoken to the pater, and it is all right. You needn't be afraid of meeting anyone. The people of our set are all away. We can take the ' Elevated ' to the Battery ; there get a boat which goes to the Iron Pier, and see something of a world which will be {is new to you as the one discovered by Co lumbus." " But, John, has papa really given his consent to my going ? " From the anxious way in which Madge repeated this question it was very evident that she greatly SISTER AND BROTHER. 25 desired the Bohemian outing which John proposed. Yet she was not quite sure that Dr. Disney would fully approve of it. " If you hurry, we can get the noon boat," was John's reply, consulting the time-table in the news paper. Madge hurried, and they were in good time for the boat. 26 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. CHAPTER IV. Mark Brompton's Nephew. ^TOHN DISNEY had no intention of being unjust \ to Edward Vaughen when lie spoke of his QJ "notions" in a light and satiric way, and even went so far as to suggest that Vaughen himself was not to be taken seriously. Nevertheless he was unjust, though unintentionally so. A hurt can be both severe and painful, whether through inadvert ence or design. That ancient fable of a stone-throw ing boy and an expostulating frog has applications of various kinds, and is likely to have for a long time to come. The way in which we misjudge each other is one of life's saddest mysteries. What blunderers we are! How coarse and dull and unfeeling! With heavy, hob-nailed boots we trample upon the delicate threads and lines of each other's hopes and aspira tions, and many a noble, beautiful life has been broken and crushed under our pitiless feet. The trouble with Edward Vaughen was not lack of seriousness. Like another young man whose name and history are not unknown, he was a dreamer ; he had a vision of the circling stars and the bending sheaves ; his imagination clothed itself with a coat of many colors, and he could easily see a future in which he would not only ride in a chariot, but also be hailed as the friend and champion of suffering mankind. Hence he was vague, deliciously, refresh- MARK BROMPTON'S NEPHEW. 27 ingly vague. Theories as beautiful as dewdrops sparkled in the morning sun of his eager, hopeful life. The eastern sky of his ambitions was flushing the dull, leaden gray and tinting the somber clouds with a glory all its own. Ah ! we who are older and wiser may have but scant sympathy with the dreams of youth. Yet there are times when some of us would gladly ex change much of our worldly wisdom for the daring, the eagerness, the enthusiasm of those triumphant days when all things were ours and when life, like clay in the hands of the potter, could be molded to our wish. Yaughen's theories and notions were not, however, as Madge somewhat flippantly suggested, a mere fad taken up for the time being ; they were his by in heritance ; he was born into them ; indeed, so conscious was he of this possession that long before full man hood was attained he had entered upon this estate. The little town of Eastwich said that Thomas Vaughen, Edward's father, was a very singular man, and Eastwich knew what it was talking about, for Thomas Yaughen had not only been born and brought up there, but had lived there all his life, and was now buried in the little well-kept cemetery with which everyone in Eastwich was so familiar. " He might have been one of the richest men in the county," remarked Mr. Ragsby, the owner of the Eastwich paper mill and a man of much local prominence, to Lawyer Salvage, as they rode together on the day of Thomas Yaughen's funeral. " He was one of the kindest and most generous 3 28 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. men I ever knew," said Deacon Calvin to his neigh bor, Squire Calendar, a vestryman of St. John's, as they followed in the next carriage. " He was as brave as a lion and as tender as a woman," one Grand Army man said to another, as the little company went to the funeral of their com rade. It was a lovely afternoon, and all Eastwich had gathered in the cemetery, and under that sky which seemed as a dome of infinite depth arching into the uttermost heavens, never were words more impressive and thrilling "And I heard a voice from heaven saying unto me, Write, Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord." Mrs. Yaughen was a woman of much strength and quality of mind, and also of corresponding strength and quality of heart ; hence outwardly she bore her sorrow and bereavement with such quietness as to cause some surprise, for her married life had been one of rare sweetness and peace. Mrs. Paletot, the chief milliner and dressmaker of Eastwich, was almost grieved at the simple character of Mrs. Vaughen's mourning ; still it would be unfair to Mrs. Paletot to insinuate that this had anything to do with her remark to Mrs. Cutler, whose husband kept the grocery and hardware store: " Mrs. Vaughen may be in deep trouble, but she doesn't show much of it on either her gown or bon net." Mrs. Marble, the wife of the tombstone and epitaph man, whispered around that it was only the very plainest tablet, with just the name cut upon it, that MARK BROMPTON'S NEPHEW. 29 was ordered, "hardly enough to be even respectful to such a man as Thomas Yanghen." These tender and sympathetic remarks, with others of equal sweetness and beauty, were repeated, passed on, and duly commented upon, but Mrs. Yaughen's sad, sweet face gave no indication of the feelings of her neighbors and friends. The woman who can command herself in such times as these, who does not bring out her heart so as to exhibit its flutterings, its throbbings, its quiverings ; who does not make piteous appeals for sympathy, and with tear-shot voice and tear-stained eye call upon the emotions of her friends she, poor soul, will be adjudged as lacking in tenderness, and will be harshly pronounced upon, chiefly, however, by those of her own sex. At the time suggested by the opening of our story Mrs. Yanghen received a letter, the contents of which may help us somewhat : "NEW YOKK, June 20. " MY DEAR MARY : I was glad to learn through a note from Edward of the completion of his college course and his desire to enter upon a business life. " Let rue suggest his coming to me at as early a date as may be convenient. I wish I could persuade you to come at the same time. " Augusta and the girls are abroad. Percy is with some friends on a yachting trip. Some things re quire my attention in the city, and as I am alone your coming with Edward would really be a great favor. Your affectionate brother, " MARK BROMPTON." 30 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. Mark was Mrs. Yaughen's only brother, and her senior by several years. When only a lad he had gone to New York, and by dint of the hardest kind of hard work gradually made his way, so that now he was at the head of one of the largest houses in the city. He was not one of the fortunate boys who find an Aladdin's lamp or a vizier's ring. He had no unknown benefactor who secured for him posi tions of honor and trust. He was no youthful hero, who in peril of his life sprang at the reins of the frightened horses who were tearing madly down the street and with the strength of a Hercules brought them to a standstill, thus saving the life of the mil lionaire and his lovely daughter, completing the romance by marrying the aforesaid daughter in due time. There was nothing romantic about Mark Brompton He just kept plodding along in the ordi nary, common way messenger boy, office boy, junior clerk, and so on step by step, always cool, always shrewd, carefully considering what was best, eminently practical, rigid in his economies, rendering good service but expecting full reward, and ever watchful of his own interests. With him business was busi ness, business all the time, and business with a profit. He was honest, but he was hard ; he kept his word, but he insisted upon the other man keeping his ; he paid promptly, but never more than was written in the bond, nor would he receive less. In his office he knew neither friendship nor sentiment, and to all seeming had no more heart than an automatic calcu lator. At the proper time he married, and the proper time with him was not when his heart was MARK BROMPTON'S NEPHEW. 31 young, but when he had attained such standing as gave him access to homes of solidity and wealth ; hence when he asked Augusta Glenville to become his wife he was fully aware that she would not be a portionless bride. And so he went on from prosper ing to prosper. When Thomas Yaughen died Mark Brompton went to Eastwich not only to attend the funeral and be present with his sister in her sorrow, but also to arrange her affairs and give her such assistance as was necessary. There was not much, however, to arrange, for Thomas Yaughen had spent his life in laying up treasure " where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt ; " still with characteristic unselfishness he had provided against his wife being dependent, so that with the sale of the business her income was enough for her simple needs. Nothing would induce her to leave Eastwich ; that pathetic hillock in the little churchyard made the whole place sacred to her and claimed her presence and care. But while Mark Brompton could not quite under stand the fine feeling which prompted the refusal of his sister to leave Eastwich, yet in a measure he was relieved, for her coming to New York would involve certain family embarrassments which he was anxious to avoid. He arranged, however, to send Edward to college, and promised to open his way in the city afterward. With his usual faithfulness he carried out his part of the compact, and while Edward could not speak with enthusiasm of his uncle's generosity, still Mr. Brompton was fairly entitled to respect and consideration for what he had done. 32 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. CHAPTER V. A Bohemian Outing. THOSE who are not familiar with New York imagine that in the summer the heat is simply intolerable, and that no one remains in the city who can possibly get away. It is true that in certain sections uptown it would seem as if this idea was the correct one, for there are whole blocks of houses and almost blocks of streets where every shutter is closed, every blind is drawn, every door is boarded up, and where it is very evident that a general exodus has taken place. The favored resi dents of these select and fashionable regions could not dream of exposing themselves to the horrors of a New York summer ; hence trunks are packed, boxes are strapped, trains are laden, steamers are filled, and away go the " four hundred," leaving the city desolate and forsaken. Possibly the population of the city is not perceptibly affected, but people should be weighed as well as counted, and what are numbers as compared with quality? East Side Gothamites are not of much account except by cen sus takers ; the real dwellers in Gotham are in the uptown regions. According to the standard of the chosen ones, in July New York is simply empty. Newspapers are published, but what do they chron icle other than reports from the distant resorts Mrs. McFlimsie's dinner party in honor of the A BOHEMIAN OUTING. 33 Marquis Tete de Bois ; the engagement of Miss Nam by Pam to Count Spaghetti; the fancy ball under the direction of the Von der Plonks, and such other mighty and thrilling events ? The great stores also keep open, but they sell only common things to the common people, of whom there seem as many as ever, which only proves how much plebeianism there is even in Gotham. It is true also that most of the churches observe regular service, but in the select neighborhoods the ministerial " understudy " meets the full necessities of the case, for why should the eloquent sermons of the regular incumbent be spent upon the few unfor tunate ones who cannot escape from the metropolis ? It is very probable that the fact of " everyone be ing out of town " weighed in Madge Disney's mind when she consented to accompany her brother to Coney Island, for she was morally certain that none of her friends was within even a hundred miles of the city. Still she had certain qualms, though in strict truth they were not of conscience, but rather a fear of the proprieties. It is singular, but true withal, that there are those with whom propriety is a stronger deterrent than conscience. If the Ten Commandments could only be adopted and accepted as part of the social code, the moral law might secure more generous recogni tion. For the social code not only demands but in sists upon obedience, and one must either be very rich or very handsome who will defy its mandates. With a sway that is absolute it prescribes the length of a horse's tail, the cut of a woman's gown, the 34 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. shape of a man's hat, and woe betide those who dis obey 1 No wonder, therefore, that Madge felt anxious and uncomfortable, and if a telegram had come from her mother, or her father unexpectedly returned, she would have gladly put aside her promise to John and inwardly rejoiced at her deliverance. But no relief came ; John was impatient to be off, and so Madge went, but her first sensations were any thing but pleasant. After reaching the boat and being comfortably seated Madge looked cautiously around and discov ered, very much to her satisfaction, that her fellow- travelers were not such barbarians as she had feared. Many of them were just as well dressed and as lady like as she was, and some of the young men would compare favorably with even her own handsome brother. Among the younger groups there was pos sibly a little more hilarity than some would approve of, and more than once a laugh that might be called boisterous, but when John suggested that to most of these people such an outing as this meant an escape from the stifling store, the cooped-up office, the noise, the din, the heat, and the general restraint under which so much of their lives was spent, she soon found herself not only framing excuses for their rather zealous pleasure-making, but even once or twice she could not forbear a smile at some bright repartee or quaint saying spoken loud enough for her to overhear. Others impressed her as belonging more particu larly to the artisan class, for their clothes sat rather A BOHEMIAN OUTING. 35 consciously and indicated an unfamiliarity with the daily life of the wearer. A certain swarthy neck undoubtedly resented a stiff collar ; the well-shaped, sturdy head felt the strain of a close-fitting hat ; the brawny, rugged shoulders chafed under the restraints of a fairly made coat ; but the man was genuine ; that Madge could see in the care which he took of his little children, and the affection with which he re garded their mother, a pale, sad-faced woman, who looked wistfully upon the sea, thinking, doubtless, of her early home far across the ocean. One group after the other came within the reach of Madge's clear gray but kindly eyes, and concern ing each group she had many wonderings and imag inings. But who can describe a boatload of passengers on the way to Coney Island ? For it surely includes all sorts and conditions of men, women, and children children with tiny pails and shovels for service in the sand ; children with whips and balloons and mouths smeared with colored candy ; children who cry and scream until one sighs for the fog horn ; children who are sweet and pretty, sleeping most of the way through ; then the women with babies and the women without babies ; the women with hus bands and the women without husbands ; the women who have nice frocks and the women who have nice faces ; then the men who are out for a frolic and the men who are out with their families ; the men to whom the occasion is one which they enjoy with their wives and children ; the men who are reckless and selfish, wasting both the day and themselves. 36 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. People of varied language and of varied life men from the mill, the shop, the foundry, the yard ; men who have just laid down the hammer, tlie trowel, the shears, the pen ; women from the store, the desk, the sewing machine, the typewriter ; women who have escaped from the burden, the toil, the care, the drudgery what a comfort it is that once in a while they can get out and see God's sky, look upon God's sea, and feel something of the light and joy of life! A very world is a Coney Island steamer ; more of a world even than an ocean steamship, for it usually carries but two classes the saloon and the steerage whereas a Coney Island boat is a world in miniature. Down the harbor, with the Statue of Liberty stand ing out in all its mighty proportions ; through the Narrows, with the hills of Staten Island on the one hand and the less pretentious Bay Ridge on the other, the steamer made its way, and ere long the varied and nondescript architecture of the famous resort came in view. The pier was reached in due time, and the impatient passengers were soon a part of the great host who swarmed everywhere. The first feeling that possessed Madge was that of utter bewilderment. Had she come from a distant planet she could hardly have been in a world with which she was less familiar. There were swings to right of her, swings to left of her ; flying horses with calliope attachment, making noise enough to suit a Bedlamite ; toboggans where the heavy-laden cars made a rush and roar like a train passing over a trestle- work bridge, but neither rush nor roar could drown the screams and laughter of the tobogganers, bump- A BOHEMIAN OUTING. 37 ing and thumping on their way ; boats which hung on chains and iron rods, with motion enough to ter rify the most hardened traveler, within which very uncomfortable-looking people tried to imagine that they really enjoyed it ; shows in tents and shows in booths, where from the platform men with throats of boiler iron and lungs of extra leather were inviting the passing throngs to witness the marvelous exhibi tions which were " just about to begin ; " shooting galleries, where every few minutes might be heard the ting of a bell, indicating that some fortunate youth had succeeded in hitting one of those elusive marks at which so many aim in vain. All these, and countless other things as well, mingled with the beat ing of drums, the blowing of horns, the cries of vend ers of everything imaginable, startled Madge so that finally she looked from one thing to the other with a helplessness that was simply pitiful. " Let us go down to the beach," said John, when he saw that Madge was a little weary ; " we can get chairs there, and you will have a chance to rest." " But, John, where did all these people come from ? " gasped Madge, with the look of wonder fill ing her eyes and face, for the crowd had a peculiar influence upon her. It was by no means a drunken, noisy, reckless crowd, but sober, orderly, respectable, and in bearing and appearance would compare most favorably, too, with the crowds of London or Paris or Berlin. Madge was very deeply impressed, for she was quick and sensitive, and the sight of these tens of thousands moved her most strangely. "My dear girl," replied John, "these are the 38 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. bread makers of the city in which you live. All week they have been at work tending the ovens; their arms have been spattered with flour, their hands covered with dough, and they are now enjoying the half holiday which makes life just bearable for many of them." " Bread makers ! What do you mean ? " for John's figurative form of speech was not quite clear always, even to his sister. " O ! I don't mean that all these people are pastry cooks or bakers ; they are the workers, the mechanics, the clerks, the real bread winners of New York. These are the common people of whom you read in books, the books written mostly by men who never saw the common people. These are the masses who are studied by our social economists as a geologist studies specimens stratified and labeled in proper order." By this time they had come to the beach, which was crowded with men and women and children, en joying to the full the delicious breeze which came in strongly from the open sea, while a goodly com pany, much to the amusement of the onlookers, splashed and frolicked in the big breakers as they rolled in from the broad Atlantic. Madge now was quite at ease concerning the matter of recognition, for the more she studied the people the more con fident she was that none of her friends were in such a place ; hence she gratefully accepted the chair which John secured, and with simple, girlish democ racy was entering into the novelty and amusement of her surroundings, when all at once John said : A BOHEMIAN OUTING. 39 " Why, there is Dunbar ! Excuse me for a mo ment," disappearing as he spoke, returning, how ever, almost immediately, bringing with him a young man of perhaps twenty-five years of age, tall, fairly good-looking, and though not in the orthodox garb of a clergy man, yet John introduced him to Madge as " the Kev. Hugh Dunbar." 40 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. CHAPTER VI. A Reverend Radical. u "T T* "\ELL ! I certainly did not expect to see you \/\y down here," John said to Mr. Dunbar, after a few moments spent in the ordi nary greetings. " Why not ? " responded Mr. Dunbar, regarding John with a pleasant smile. "I thought that clergymen were not in sympathy with the pomps and vanities of such places as these," returned John. " But ' pomps and vanities,' as you call them, are not necessarily associated with * such places as these,' " Mr. Dunbar replied. " People who have spent all their week in the hot city are to be commended for coming here and getting a breath of the sea. O, how delicious it is ! " as just then a cool wave swept through the air, tempering the hot sun and causing almost everyone to turn gratefully to the open sea, from whence the life and vigor came so richly. "I had an impression," John went on, accompany ing the words with a look and smile which Mr. Dunbar seemed to perfectly understand, " that you 1 brethren of the cloth ' were usually invisible on Saturdays, so as to be incomprehensible on Sundays." " I see you are the same Disney. Your sister here may not be aware that from the magnificent altitudes of my senior year I beheld in the valley of the fresh- A REVEREND RADICAL. 41 man this youth of much verdancy and small promise, whose helplessness and innocence touched me very deeply," was Dunbar's response, meanwhile turning his large, expressive eyes, full of genuine mirth, upon Madge, his earnest, almost sad-looking face lighted up with a rich smile. "All of which translated into the vernacular means that Mr. Dunbar was in his last year when I entered college and that we became good friends," replied John. The spot chosen by John for a few minutes' halt ing place was quite a little distance from the crowd, and as the tide was now receding, carrying with it the heavy fringe of spectators, our friends were com paratively alone. At John's suggestion Mr. Dunbar and himself sat down upon the sand, of which at Coney Island there is enough and to spare. The young men soon drifted into easy and familiar con versation, though Madge was not altogether pleased at Mr. Dunbar's quiet acceptance of himself as a member of the Disney party. Her coolness, how ever, in nowise affected Mr. Dunbar, except that now and then he looked at her with a quick, keen, curious glance ; for though his eyes, as a rule, were kindly, at times they gleamed sharply and searched deeply. " Then you have a parish ? " John said in response to a remark of Mr. Dunbar. " Yes, if you can call it so," answered Dunbar. " In the city ? " questioned Madge, who felt as if she ought, in courtesy to her brother, at any rate, to show some interest in his friend. 42 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. " Yes, in the city, but that is not very definite even to myself, for I have quite recently taken service in an East Side mission." An East Side clergyman suggested very little to Madge beyond a superior kind of tract distributer or superintendent of some charitable institution, and as she thought of Mr. Dunbar associated with such work she wondered at John's very evident regard for him. It may have been the breeze, which was now blowing stronger and cooler every moment, but a distinct chill came upon her face, and there was something in the curl of her lips which, to say the least, was suggestive. Again Mr. Dunbar flashed upon her one of his keen, searching looks, a look of which she was conscious, though at the same moment she seemed to be absorbed in watching a vessel far out at sea. " Then you have entered upon your work ? " put in John, who knew nothing of the soul collisions which were taking place so near him, and whose only in terest for the time centered in Dunbar. "I am experimenting before reaching definite conclusions." " You don't mean by ' experimenting ' hospital and dispensary work of the same type necessary to young doctors, preparatory to a church with a big steeple and a Yanity Fair congregation ?" laughed John. " Such practice is doubtless necessary, but it is hard on those who have to endure it." " There is some truth, unfortunately, in your idea, but other things than those you suggest have influ enced me ; " this very quietly, but earnestly. A REVEREND RADICAL. 43 " Let us get back to first principles," said John, " and ask, if I may, what are you doing down here ? for I assured my sister before leaving home that we would not meet a solitary friend or even remote acquaintance the whole afternoon, and yet here in the midst of the throng we find you." " Before answering your question may I venture to hope that this accidental meeting will not interfere with Miss Disney's enjoyment," Mr. Dunbar cour teously but gravely replied, for he was fully aware of certain unpleasant movements in Madge's mind. " You will pardon me, Mr. Dunbar, if I take ex ception to your use of the word ' enjoyment ' so far as it relates to me. Seeing you are a clergyman, perhaps it is only proper for me to confess that it was simply a spirit of adventure which brought me here. My brother was anxious to have me come, nor am I sorry that I did so ; still my enjoyments are not altogether of this order." Here Madge pro duced what John called her " shot-tower effect," so that when her words reached Mr. Dunbar they \vere hard and glittering like tiny bullets. Once more the searching eyes of Mr. Dunbar looked out from under their heavy brows, and once more Madge watched with intense interest a trail of smoke as of some in coming ocean steamer. "Your question, Disney, is easily answered. I came down here to see my brothers and sisters and enjoy part of the day with them." " Then you still remain an apostle of the Brother hood \ " John said. " I thought those were mostly 44 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. college notions, and that when men got through they left them as a legacy to the incoming class." " Not always." " Of course there are exceptions." " Yes, and many exceptions." " But do not some men take these things up as fads and fancies ? " " Undoubtedly, but they soon become much more unless the men who take them up are fads and fancies themselves." "You evidently have taken them up in dead earnest." " No, they have taken me up in dead earnest." " I do not quite understand." " The fault is mine, but " and with this he turned to Miss Disney, whose eyes were still upon the sea but who had heard every word of the conversation, " it is not fair of me to monopolize the afternoon with matters which are largely personal." "But these things are not personal," persisted John ; " they have a deep interest for me, and the problems in which I find myself are both serious and difficult. " " That I am glad to hear. It is only the man who does not think, and who is selfishly content with things as they are, who is not troubled. How any man can face the conditions of this age and this country without feeling the burden and the mystery can hardly be reconciled with a sound mind, certainly not with a clear conscience." This time Mr. Dunbar did not look at Madge, though she certainly was a very attractive picture, A REVEREND RADICAL. 45 for the clear sky seemed to reflect itself in her eyes, the breeze had brought a tinge of color into her fresh young face, and if Mr. Dunbar had looked at her no one would have blamed him. But he looked along the beach down to the Iron Pier, then turned the other way only to see multitudes of those whom he called his " brothers and sisters." " He is positively worse than Edward Yaughen," Madge said to herself, " and he, goodness knows, is bad enough." "No wonder John has all sorts of notions," she went on with her unspoken thoughts; "what with Edward Yaughen and this Mr. Dnnbar, they have filled my brother's head with the most absurd fan cies." "John," she said, after a few minutes, when there was a lull in the conversation, " is it not time that we were going ? " It was a simple and natural question, but there was that in the tone which made it abrupt, if, indeed, not ungracious. This time just the faintest gleam of amusement stole upon Mr. Dunbar's face, for he under stood the question as a polite dismissal. Madge saw the shadow of the smile, and it provoked her, for she knew then that her intent was discovered. She tried to cover up her failure with an invitation for Mr. Dnnbar to return with them, and when he declined she was quite solicitous that he call upon Dr. Disney and give -them opportunity of hearing further of his work. Nothing could exceed the ease and graceful dignity of Mr. Dunbar's leave-taking, but somehow it seemed 46 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. to Madge as though a spirit of mischief lurked in his eyes and as if he had come off the better in their silent contest. " Your friend, whatever his notions may be, has the manners of a gentleman," she said to John, after Mr. Dunbar had gone. " That is not to be wondered at," was the reply, more curtly, too, than was John's wont with Madge. " You don't mean to insinuate that because he was favored with your graceful and dignified example for a year he must therefore be a gentleman all the rest of his life," she playfully responded ; for though she could not see any disturbance in her brother's mind she felt it, and it annoyed and, if anything, made her more provoked with Mr. Dunbar as the cause of it. " No, but if you put it the other way, you will reach a more correct view of the case." "What do you mean? Mr. Dunbar is nothing but an East Side clergyman, probably one of those unfortunates for whom Dr. Bland pleads so earnestly on Mission Sunday." " You poor, misguided creature," John said, pity ingly. " Dunbar is rich enough to endow Dr. Bland and a dozen others beside. He is also of one of the best families we have, while he himself is as true a man as lives." It must be conceded that though John was Madge's " own and only brother " he took evident satisfaction in making this reply, and even all the more when he saw its effect upon her. Poor Madge! She now understood the lurking A REVEREND RADICAL- 47 mischief in Mr. Dnnbar's eyes and the ghost of a smile with which lie had taken his dismissal. " Why, I thought he was a socialist," she hastily replied, anxious to find something by way of exten uation. " Yes, but not the sort of socialist that you mean, nor the sort that a great many mean. I don't under stand why lie has taken up the work he is now in ; but one thing certain, he is thoroughly in earnest." The afternoon was now well advanced, and Madge suggested that it was time to return home, when John said: " Father has a special engagement for this evening, and when I spoke of our coming down here he pro posed that we remain at Manhattan Beach for din ner. This side trip of ours was not, however, on his program, and perhaps we had better say noth ing about it." They went over to Manhattan Beach by rail, mak ing the run in a few minutes, and there found a crowd proportionately as great as the one which they had jnst left. Though not yet the fashionable hour for dining, the tables on the long, wide piazzas of the " Manhattan " were crowded, and the waiters were rushing here and there in response to the calls on every side. The benches on the plank walk facing the sea were all occupied, while hundreds of people were promenading up and down, enjoying the mag nificent view and at the same time the refreshing breeze which came in from the ocean. The music from the " Pavilion " was too strong and clear to be confined within wooden walls, hence the strains of 48 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. Gilmore's famous band filled the great square with melody. Ladies in the daintiest of summer costumes gave color and vividness to the scene and rivaled in richness and variety the immense beds of flowers fronting the hotel in the glory of early July. On every hand there was evidence of wealth, and it may be questioned if in the days of imperial Eome a scene of more real splendor could be found. For here were jewels costly and gleaming, laces and silks finer and more exquisite than ever adorned Roman matron, rich attire and golden ornaments in lavish display, not barbaric as in the days of Nero, but deli cate and elegant, of richest quality and finest work manship. Madge was even more amazed than in the early afternoon, for she had accepted without question the statement that " there was positively no one in New York," while here were crowds of people of evident wealth, reveling, too, in the enjoyment of that wealth as she had never even dreamed of. She suggested something of this to John, who said : "Down yonder," pointing to that part of the island where they had met Mr. Dunbar, "are the bread makers, while here are the bread eaters." "But bread makers are usually bread eaters," laughed Madge, who was anxious to avoid a return to the serious discussion of the early afternoon. " Not always," said John ; " they have the honor of mixing the flour, of making the batches, of shap ing the loaves, and of tending the ovens, but the bread is not for them. Of course, if a loaf is over- A REVEREND RADICAL, 49 baked or tlie crust browned beyond the point which is attractive or palatable, the baker may have it for his own use ; but, Madge, it is true the bread makers are yonder and the bread eaters are here." " If that is so, let us belong to the bread eaters, for I am very hungry. Only think how long it has been since lunch time, and one cannot well live on ocean' breezes and band music." To this remark John gave an approving smile, and soon they were in the dining room of the " Oriental," where surely there is " bread " in all possible varie ties and forms. 50 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. CHAPTER VII. Making Stones into Bread. FOR the very same reason with which Mark Brompton urged his invitation Mrs. Vanghen steadily declined it, which shows that the man and the woman rarely, if ever, have the same point of view. We may discuss the question of sex equality as we please, but when everything is said it still remains the same sublime mystery. One is tempted sometimes to wonder in what this equality consists. Those diamonds so gracefully, though not unconsciously, worn by the Marchioness of Tabasco at the state ball in honor of Prince Sapolio are car bon ; that wagonload of coal of which Tim O'Healy is in charge is also carbon. Does it then follow that the Marchioness of Tabasco is on terms of equality with Tim O'Healy ? Now here were Mark Brompton and Mrs. Vaughen, though of the same kith and kin, as far apart in their conclusions as their finite natures would allow. To the mind of Mr. Brompton there was no reason whatever why his sister should not come to New York at this particular time ; to the mind of Mrs. Vaughen there was a most urgent reason why she should re main at Eastwich. Mrs. Vaughen had an under standing of more things than were dreamt of in the philosophy of her worldly-wise brother. She was perfectly certain that Mrs. Brompton, had she been MAKING STONES INTO BREAD. 51 at home, would not have united in this invitation, and when she returned would resent such a visit as an intrusion. Mrs. Yaughen sincerely pitied Mark. Though he was older by several years, she remembered dis tinctly his early ambitions and his determination to be rich and successful. She knew also that there was no romance in his marriage ; that no fine, tender feeling actuated him in the founding of his home ; and that from beginning to end the whole transac tion was almost as definitely commercial as anything which took place in his office. She was further aware that he got just what he bargained for, noth ing more or nothing less, Augusta Glenville understanding perfectly the nature of the arrange ment. Miss Glenville was no lovelorn damsel or yearn ing heroine, no boarding-school maiden with a heart crowded with dreams. In her way she was just as practical and matter-of-fact as Mr. Bromptoii was in his, and while there was the orthodox wed ding, not even omitting the customary rice, neither one pretended to anything of sentiment. If the offi ciating clergyman had said, " Wilt thou, Half Million, take this Half Million, to have and to hold from this day forward ? " there would probably have been some indignation in the bridal party, yet in reality that was the inner meaning of the ceremony. But Mark Brompton long since had made the discovery a sad, pitiable discovery by whomsoever made that man shall not live by bread alone. The loaf may be made of the finest flour, of the daintiest 52 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. shape, baked most carefully, yet there is a hunger which it cannot meet. He, foolish man, had imagined that the heart was a sort of safe ; a receptacle for bonds and title deeds ; with a combination known only to himself, which he could open and close at will. Years ago he had found, but much to his surprise, that it was not a cunning mechanism of steel springs and wrought iron, for it throbbed and ached with a pain all its own. But he kept on making money, and appar ently was dead to all feeling ; still there were times when there was a sense of utter loneliness, when the world was barren, and his life one of bitter disap pointment. " ' A little below par,' to use the terms of the ' Street,' " Dr. Disney would say, in that bland, gracious way of his ; for sometimes Mr. Brompton wondered if physical conditions were not the cause of his depression, and would therefore send for Dr. Disney, in whose skill he had much confidence. " You require toning up, my good friend. There is nothing, however, to cause alarm. The pulse is regular, though not as full as it might be. I think, however, we can take care of that without much diffi culty." And so Mr. Brompton would remain at home for a few days, but the time was very heavy on his hands ; for Mrs. Brompton had no appreciation of his moods or feelings, and her attempts at sympathy were by no means grateful. At such times Mark Brompton went back over his life, with just the same hardness and honesty as MAKING STONES INTO BREAD. 53 lie did everything, but the retrospect was not pleas ant. He heard voices from men who had come to him pleading for some little kindness which he had failed to grant. He saw men with pale, despairing faces leave his office, his stern refusal meaning for them utter ruin. He could feel now that he had been hard, merciless, exacting, demanding inexorably his pound of flesh. But do we not read of a famous but nameless in dividual who during a time of sickness expressed a strong desire to be a monk, but who when his health was restored was anything but a monk ? Whatever tenderness came to Mark Brompton during these times was known only to himself, nor was he any less rigorous once he was back in his office. " The trouble with your Uncle Mark," said Mrs. Yaughen to Edward, just a few days before he left Eastwich, and she was giving him some motherly counsel, " is that he has made stones into bread." " In what way ? " asked Edward ; for while he was poetic and imaginative, still there were phases of his nature eminently practical. " In this way," answered Mrs. Vaughen, " he has taken his youth, his ideals, his generous impulses, and by the sheer force of his will made them the servants of his ambitions." " But had he not a right to his ambitions ? " ques tioned Edward, drawing his chair closer to his mother's ; for the conversation was taking place under the veranda of their little Eastwich home, and the evening shadows were deepening rapidly. " Surely," was the quick response, " provided such 54 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. ambitions are not miserably selfish. As an active, useful man your Uncle Mark is honestly entitled to the honest man's loaf, but he, unlike your father," looking softly in the direction of the little cemetery, which could be seen in the distance, and which she had visited that afternoon, "is not content with his lawful portion." " Then you think that Uncle Mark has more loaves than rightfully belong to him ? " Edward plausibly suggested, for he knew that Mr. Brompton's honesty was unquestioned. " Legally and according to the standards of busi ness he has a right to all he now possesses, but mor ally no man is justified in using his superior strength and skill so as to enrich himself at the expense of others." They were both silent for a few minutes, Mrs. Yaughen's eyes turning again to the distant church yard, where they remained, as though searching among the shadows for the one who had made life so rich to her. Edward's eyes reaching into the heavens, following the movements of the clouds, upon which the moonbeams were now beginning to fall. These two quiet figures represented memory and hope. The one was, therefore, busy with the past, the other busy with the future. "You will meet the same temptation as your Uncle Mark, and you will hear the same mysterious voice, * Command that these stones be made bread,' " resumed Mrs. Yaughen. "But success does not always mean yielding to temptation," Edward urged, not so much in defense MAKING STONES INTO BREAD. 55 of his Uncle Mark as in support of Ins own ambi tions. " No, but when one is in the wilderness which we call life, and when certain stones, which it is dishon est even to touch, are lying all around us, to take these stones up in our hands and turn them into bread is the temptation which assails almost every one, nor are there many who successfully resist it. Remember, my darling boy," this with great tender ness, but with equal solemnity, " the wilderness in Judea is the same as the one in New York, and the temptation of the one is the temptation of the other." "Within a few days they parted, she to maintain her loving watch over the quiet grave, he to enter upon that terrible battle in which so many are slain. To the very minute the train rolled into the Grand Central Depot, and Edward Vaughen was soon on the platform. There is nothing remarkable to the average New Yorker in the big station on Forty- second Street, but what is there or what could there be remarkable to a New Yorker ? He might leave his home in the morning, passing some vacant lots on the corner, and on returning in the evening find the lots occupied by a huge apartment house, ten anted from top to bottom by families all settled and everything to rights, yet he would hardly think it a matter of sufficient importance to mention at the dinner table ! He invariably reads the paper while riding over the Brooklyn Bridge, and it is only when some country friend is with him that he 86 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. even looks at that marvel of engineering skill, with its threads and lacework of iron ropes and gigantic cables ; as wondrous, yet as beautiful a structure as this world has ever seen. No concern of his that buildings lift themselves so high from the ground that elevators are run express ; for in this busy town men cannot spare the time for an elevator to stop at each floor on the way up ! But this was Edward Yaughen's first visit to New York, and before he was half way down the platform of the depot he was fairly bewildered. He followed, however, the stream of passengers, a stream which, like the river Danube, has three mouths, for some turned to the right, in the direction of the waiting rooms, some to the left, where they could reach the " Elevated," and some went straight ahead toward the street. The pe culiar cry of the depot hackman, a cry which for pene trating quality is like that of the Venetian gondolier when about to make a sharp turning, attracted our young friend, and ere long he was being driven to his uncle's home on Fifth Avenue. Mr. Brompton received him with as much cor diality as Edward had reason to expect, and for several days he enjoyed himself visiting about the city, and seeing such things as would naturally be of interest to him. " I have spoken to Keen & Sharp, and they can make room for you in their office," said Mr. Bromp ton one morning, as he and Edward were in the breakfast room. "And who are Keen & Sharp?" said Edward, smiling gratefully at his uncle. MAKING STONES INTO BREAL 67 " Friends of mine, with whom I have had business relations for some years. They do here what is known as a general brokerage business, but have in terests in other things, and I think an opening with them will be to your advantage." " It is exceedingly kind of you, Uncle Mark." " O, I have simply made an investment in you," interrupted Mr. Brompton. " Sometimes I put a little money in wheat, sometimes in cotton, some times in a railroad ; and sometimes I lose, and then again I don't. Just how my investment in you will turn out remains to be seen." " When am I expected to begin work?" Edward asked. " I told Mr. Keen you were in the city, and could begin any time." " Then I will start in next Monday," said Edward. " Very well. I will drop a line to Keen & Sharp to that effect." 58 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. CHAPTER YIII. The Dream and the Reality. TO take a young man fresli from college, and within a few weeks after graduation have him at work, was Mark Brompton's way of doing things. To him a business life meant prompt ness ; a disregard of either convenience or personal desire, and an obedience to which everything must give way without excuse or hesitation. "Mr. Jones," he would say to his confidential clerk, " I have a ' cable ' from our correspondents in London which requires immediate attention. You will therefore take the Britannic, which sails to-day at one o'clock, and as you are familiar with this mat- ter you can arrange it according to instructions," speaking as indifferently as if he had asked Mr. Jones to do some little errand in Brooklyn or Jer sey City. The fact that Mr. Jones had a daughter who waa to be married within the week, and that the invita tions for the wedding were already out, would not weigh even as dust in the balances of his command. So in less than three hours Mr. Jones would be on the big steamer heading for Liverpool. "Mr. Smith, I wish you to represent 'the house' at the creditors' meeting of Bang & Crash in Chi- cago the day after to-morrow. You will take the train this afternoon, as I have wired some gentlemen THE DREAM AND THE REALITY. . 59 to meet you to-morrow evening, so as to have an un derstanding of affairs." Then he would take up some other mutter from his desk, this one being settled. Poor Mr. Smith ! And he had a christening party in his home this very evening! The baby was christened, and the party came off ; meantime he was half way to Buffalo. " Mr. Brown, there are some interests of ours in Nevada connected with that road which the T., C. & O. expect to lease. As you have this matter in your department be good enough to give it imme diate personal attention. You had better start at once, and arrange to remain there till everything is settled." And Mr. Brown hfid just become engaged to Miss Grey and was looking forward to a summer of out ings and pleasures of the rarest kind. But he went to Nevada. "Was Mark Brompton, then, a hard master ? Not at all. With him business took precedence, and every thing else had to fall behind in such order and place as it was able to secure in the procession. " Seek ye first the kingdom of success, and let all other things be added unto you," was his understanding of a cer tain familiar Scripture. It is most assuredly true that if Edward Yaughen had not been the nephew of Mark Brompton, his first day in the office of Keen & Sharp would also have been his last. The simple fact is, he was in no way fitted for such a place. He wrote an execrable hand. He knew nothing of figures that is, the kind of 5 60 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. figures which are used in trade. Business forms were all unfamiliar to him. In plain truth, any one of the office boys had a better equipment for his work than Edward had. Before he had been an hour in the office he felt all out of sorts, and wondered how he would get through the day. Just what to do with himself was a question. True, Mr. Keen had intro duced him to Mr. Singleton, the head of a depart ment, placing him under his care, but Mr. Single ton seemed to be too busy to give him much attention, for there were two days' mail piled up on his desk. Then the click of the three or four typewriters ; the monotonous burr of the " ticker " grinding out its yards of tape ; the constant coming and going of people, so that the doors of the outer office hardly remained closed for a full minute at a time ; boys rushing in with telegrams, many of which required immediate reply ; the general air of restlessness which pervaded the whole place all these things, with the many others of which these were only a part, BO affected Edward that he became confused and even irritated, and his gratitude to Mr. Brompton for opening his way into this eminent firm was not so great as it had been. Ah ! the reality of business life was a far different thing from his college dreams. Within a few hours most of the romance had gone. In the office of Keen & Sharp there was no place for poetry or visions. Already he was folding up his coat of many colors, and the hard, grim, ter rible earnestness of the strife upon which lie was entering forced itself upon his unwilling soul. " Mr. Vaughen, if you have not made other ar- THE DREAM AND THE REALITY. 61 rangements," said Mr. Singleton, when lunch, time had come, " I will be very glad if you will lunch to day with me." " You are very kind," Edward responded, grateful for this mark of attention. " Then we will go to the ' Equitable,' " Mr. Single ton said. " Very well," replied Edward, without, however, the faintest idea of what Mr. Singleton meant, other than that he referred to some lunching place. To the " Equitable " they went, and such a jostling, pushing, busy crowd Edward had never imagined possible. It w r as men, men, nothing but men young men in. all the joy and glory of their strength ; men whose youth was disappearing, whose hair was tinging, whose faces were fading, and who were beginning to show the marks of business care ; men of mature years, some of whom were evidently prosperous, while others looked worn and haggard. It was a crowd made up of men of all moods and pas sions, of all hopes and ambitions. " Ah ! Singleton, wasn't that a surprise to-day? " a tall, eager-faced gentleman observed, just as our friends were seating themselves at a small table in the basement restaurant. Mr. Singleton merely nodded and took up the bill of fare. " By the way, Singleton, can you tell me if ? " dropping the balance of the question into Mr. Single ton's ear so that no one could hear it but himself. Mr. Singleton quietly listened, going on with his study of the menu. 62 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. " Hallo, Singleton! Another of your plans likely to go through. Big plums for somebody," and with a knowing smile the third man went by. " You know, Angelo, what I want," Mr. Singleton said to the waiter, "fix up something, and serve enough for two," an order which Angelo understood, for Mr. Singleton was one of his most regular guests. But the friends and acquaintances of Mr. Single ton would not desert him in those usually weary mo ments which lie between the disappearance of the waiter with the order, and his reappearance with the heavy-laden tray. " That deal brought Old Slick a million." " Tight squeeze Drowsley got in that Sahara irri gation affair." "Blinks & Winks have gone to the bow-bows." "Sad about Snooks, just after he got that presi dency." And so they came and went, talking about life and death, fortune and bankruptcy, success and failure, as if they were matters of the least moment and had only a passing importance. It is true that Snooks had dropped unconscious in his office, and was taken home to die, just when the dream of years had been attained. It is also true that Blinks & Winks, after having made an heroic fight, were crushed and broken in the struggle. And it was true that Drowsley was caught in an enterprise which almost ruined him. These are the chances which men have to take. THE DREAM AND THE REALITY. 63 The game of life, as it is played in New York, is full of risks. Fortunes are made and unmade by the scratch of a pen or the flash of a wire. Nowhere in the whole world is the battle of the wilderness fought with such eagerness, such intensity, such cour age, such audacity. Every quality in the man, whether bad or good, is brought into play. The spring of the panther, the swoop of the hawk, the patience of the ox, the strength of the lion, are here made manifest. On this battle ground, almost every day, stones are made into bread and men are changed into stones. After lunch Mr. Singleton and Edward returned to the office, but many times during the afternoon Edward found himself anxiously wondering concern ing the things which he had seen and heard. That night he wrote a long letter to his mother, giving her a minute and vivid description of the day, but not a word did he breathe of his anxieties or disappointments. Indeed, his letter was written in a humorous strain, and very few would have imagined anything of the heart pain and loneliness which were behind it. Mrs. Vaughen, however, was not of that number, for when she read his letter, though her lips now and then parted into a smile, yet it was a smile with a quiver in it. 64 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. CHAPTER IX. Angels of Flesh and Blood. OVER, on the East Side of the city, well down town, between Second and Third Avenues, lived the Sauviers, the family consisting of Mrs. Sauvier, her daughter Oberta, and her son Fred. Mrs. Sauvier had been very seriously ill ; indeed, for some time her life had been despaired of, and coin ing up out of much weakness and suffering her re covery was anything but rapid. " Still you are a little better to-day," Oberta said, encouragingly, as she sat by her mother's bedside and gently smoothed the forehead which yet throbbed with the obstinate fever. " Yes, dear, I am better," but the voice was hollow and uncertain, and the eyes drooped in sheer weari ness. Nothing more was said for a few moments, Oberta's hand moving lovingly over her mother's brow, now and then the tender fingers lightly lifting the gray hair in a cooling, grateful way. " I wish I could have held out just a little longer," Mrs. Sauvier said, with a pathetic quaver in her voice. " Yon held out too long longer than you ever will again," answered Oberta, bending down to her mother's pale, worn face, and kissing her most ten derly. ANGELS OF FLESH AND BLOOD. 65 The home in which the Sauviers lived was very different from that of Mark Brompton or Dr. Disney. At one time the neighborhood was fairly fashion able, and their house had been occupied by people of considerable pretensions, but that was before the up town movement had become so general. As wealth ier families moved out poorer families moved in. Houses were altered over into tenements. Certain forms of business made steady inroads upon the quiet and dignity which were once so essential. The street was noisy in the summer particularly so. In the gray dawn of the morning milk wagons would clat ter over the rough pavements, to be followed by trucks and carts on their way to the markets. Then would come brewers' drays, which, driven with a speed that was almost reckless, and being heavy laden, made a noise as of severe thunder. As the day wore on the lighter vehicles of the grocery store and the meat market clattered continuously. Ped lars, too, with stentorian voices and lungs as those of an organ bellows, bawled out their wares. From the avenue on either side the " Elevated " trains were rushing up and down, the noise, however, being fully equaled by the unceasing din of the surface cars, with their jangling bells, and the heavy traffic of all kinds ever on these great thoroughfares. In the winter the noises are deadened somewhat by the closed windows, together with the softer condition of the streets, but in the summer the roar and confusion in such a neighborhood were almost unbearable. Poor Mrs. Sauvier ! Her girlhood home was in the suburbs of Boston, not far from Milton Hill, 66 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. where from her chamber windows she could look out upon the harbor, with the sun smiting the wavi-s as they rolled in from the measureless sea, and the lights flashing out in the darkness. The house stood in the midst of ample grounds, and, while not pre tentious, indicated both comfort and refinement And now she is fighting with fever in New York, in the midst of noises and confusion impossible to describe and almost impossible to endure. How did all this come about? But what need to ask, for do we not see this same thing almost every time we look fairly around us? In every great city there are multitudes of men and women who have met with reverses and misfortunes and are hiding their poverty as best they can. Many years ago Mrs. Sauvier with her little chil dren came to New York. Though not entirely de pendent on her needle, it was her main support. Through the long, weary hours, whether in summer or winter, she worked unceasingly. She made no complaints over her dull, cheerless life, but kept on working while strength held out. She guarded her secret, whatever it was, for she had learned the value of silence. She held herself apart from her neigh- bore, but not proudly, gaining in the end their quiet respect. With a fidelity which never wavered she gave herself without reserve to the one task of sav ing her children from the penalty which her position had imposed upon them. A sad, bitter fate seemed inevitable, but if heroic devotion could avert that fate it would cheerfully be given. She could not do much for the world at large, but she determined that ANGELS OF FLESH AND BLOOD. 67 in her children there would be nothing of defile ment, and that she would efface everything of mark or stain which their surroundings might involve. It cost her sleepless nights, bitter tears, pain, weariness, but so far she had succeeded, and if this sickness had ended as at one time was feared, not even Elijah, in his chariot of mysterious splendor, would have been more worthy of a welcome to the eternal heavens. " Sister Nora called yesterday afternoon," Oberta said a few minutes later, " but as you were resting at the time she would not allow you to be disturbed, but hoped to call again, perhaps to-day." " She is connected in some way with Mr. Dunbar's mission ? " Mrs. Sauvier asked. "I am not certain, but presume so." " How kind they have been to me ! " " Not only to you, mamma, but to all of us. Mr. Dunbar has been more than kind, and as for Sister Nora I never can forget her." Oberta had good reason to speak so gratefully, for when she was utterly worn out with sleepless nights and anxious days, fighting for her mother's life with rare courage, these brave souls, hearing in some way of her distress, came to her help, just as angels came to One who, fighting the battle of the wilderness, was faint and in sore temptation. The angels that we see in pictures are usually very ethereal-looking beings, with wings mysteriously ad justed, and draperies that gracefully lose themselves in the encircling clouds. We cannot, of course, but admire the seraphic creatures, still their exact use has never been made quite clear to us. For in this 68 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. world tired people need rest, hungry people need bread, tempted people need help ; hence, while the picture angel may serve a useful purpose as a fresco decoration, or make the chief figure in a stained-glass window, yet as a practical, matter-of-fact, everyday sort of being the average angel is not a brilliant success. In a poem an angel is almost a necessity, for a poet without any number of cherubs and seraphs is very badly off; indeed, they are a positive necessity, for " sings " and " wings " rliyme with " things," and poems are usually things, nothing more. But most people have little time for poetry. We prefer angels with hands, who are able to minister to our needs, who can help us in our poverty, and render us some definite, practical service. It was to this class Sister Nora and Mr. Dunbar belonged. Instead of a trumpet she carried a side- bag, with her pocketbook inside. Instead of a halo he wore a sensible, broad -brimmed hat. Instead of floating mysteriously in the sky they walked through the crowded streets. Probably no artist would have taken either of them for the foreground of some ora torio in paint, yet for practical purposes they were worth far more than a whole gallery of mediaeval visitants. In that part of the wilderness to which Sister Nora and Hugh Dunbar had devoted themselves, while the fight for bread was no more intense or bitter than in the region where Edward Vaughen was at work, still the struggle was on a different plane. Here men were not battling for mastery, but against positive ANGELS OF FLESH AND BLOOD. 69 hunger. It was not brain against brain, but band against band. The question was not one of competi tion, but of starvation. And there are storms here just as in other places, and the same temptation which assailed Mark B romp- ton, to which lie yielded so weakly, comes in all its terrible forms. Hence men at times forget that they are men ; women forget that they are women. In this part of Gotham the sins may be coarser, more outwardly brutal, than in Wall Street or Fifth Ave nue ; the sins, however, are the same. A ring at the street door called Oberta to the " tube," when, hearing the voice of Sister Nora, she hastened to give her cordial welcome. Not very tall, nor remarkably beautiful ; nothing at all wonderful in bearing or appearance ; no nov elist's heroine, with queenly air, exquisitely formed features, having the star-like eyes, the shell-like ears, the ruby lips, with which the romancers have made us all familiar. Sister Nora was only a woman, but she was a real woman, a noble, brave, true woman ; not one of those artificial femininities whose lives are spent in milliners' shops and dressmakers' rooms, and whose highest ambitions are attained in achieving honors at the horse show or a chanty ball. "I am glad indeed to see you continue to im prove," she said to Mrs. Sauvier, going over to the bed and giving her strong, firm haiad to the sick woman. " Yes, we think mamma is doing nicely," answered Oberta, sitting down on the bed near the foot, Sister Nora taking a chair not far from Mrs. Sauvier. 70 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. They talked for some minutes, going from one topic to another, Sister Nora being careful, however, that the conversation was light and pleasant, for it was important to relieve Mrs. Sauvier of any undue strain. " Before I leave," Sister Nora said, " I wish to ask a favor." "Anything you ask will be a favor to us," grate fully responded Oberta, looking at her mother, to which Mrs. Sauvier assented by a quiet motion of her head. "I have spoken of you to. some dear friends of mine," Sister Nora went on, " and one of them, the daughter of a physician, would like some time to call with me." A cloud, not very large nor deep, }-et a cloud withal, gathered for an instant on Obcrta's face, though she tried bravely to hide it. "O, you proud, sensitive creature!" Sister Nora said, smilingly. "You think my friend is coming here on a charity errand. Well, you are mis taken." " Poor people, you know, are proud people," Oberta managed to say, by way of reply, but she felt that Sister Nora was meeting with a poor return for her great kindness. " Yes, and it is better so, for, in my opinion, pov erty has often good cause for pride." Sister Nora had both opinions and convictions, as her friends could truthfully testify, for she was wont to speak her mind at times with considerable freedom. "By the way," she said, rising from her chair, ANGELS OF FLESH AND BLOOD. 71 "my friend's name is Disney, Madge Disney, daugh ter of our family physician, Dr. Disney." " Disney ! " almost screamed Mrs. Sauvier, raising her head from the pillows and looking earnestly at Sister Nora. " Yes, Disney," answered Sister Nora, amazed at the effect of thb name upon Mrs. Sauvier. " And his daughter is coming to see me ! " Mrs. Sauvier almost gasped, her eyes now filled with what seemed a look of horror. " Yes, such is her wish, but not unless you wish it," was the reply. " Oj the ways of God, the ways of God ! " Mrs. Sauvier hoarsely whispered, falling back faint and exhausted. 72 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. CHAPTER X. An Evening at Dr. Disney's. yV )TISS DISNEY had a keen but uncomforta- f y I ble memory of that meeting with Hugh J[ D unbar, and every time she thought of it, which was quite frequently, her discomfort only in creased. Of course she had not been rude, not even in the most remote way, for such a thing was impos sible to one whose social adjustments were so perfect and whose motions and phrases were balanced in the highest form of art. Still there was the distinct impression of a failure on her part to meet the full requirements of the case. Very likely some of those introspective beings who enjoy mental analyses, and who are never quite so happy as when they are reducing motives and rea sons in their crucibles, could discover certain un worthy elements in these feelings of Miss Disney. Perhaps they might even go so far as to insinuate that her annoyance was not because of her treatment of Mr. Dunbar, but the result of a stupid blunder for which she alone was to blame. Well, what of it ? Most of the people now in the world are human very human a fact which cannot well be controverted, and yet a fact which many serious moralists are apt to ignore. It should ever be borne in mind that, originally, men (and women too, strange as it may seem) were made a little lower AN EVENING AT DR. DISNEY'S. 73 than the angels, and so far as can be observed the order of creation jet obtains. The only way to have even a fair proportion of enjoyment in this world is to take things for just what they seem to be, and not be too much con cerned about what they really are. No sensible, in dustrious, well-bred bee troubles itself with the roots of the flower upon which it luxuriates with such sat isfaction to itself and profit to the community. "Why should it? Honey is not found in roots, but in blos soms. The man who would preserve his illusions must not go behind the scenes. It is a great mistake to question things too closely. You think that Mrs. Dent's smile is hollow and in sincere ? You think that Mrs. Trefousi is only acting a part, and that her sweet, winning ways have no reality whatever ? You think that Miss Jouvin is only pert and silly, and not witty and romantic as some claim she is ? Admitting that in each case your supposition is correct, what have you gained ? And then, if your supposition is not correct, only think how much in justice you have done, besides the personal loss to yourself! Queer old parable that is of the "Beam and the Mote." Queer old world this is, anyhow. Of course Madge Disney felt mortified. "Why shouldn't she ? Here was a young man to whom she had barely condescended ; whose treatment at her hands was anything but gracious ; who was practi cally dismissed by her though, of course, in a very 74 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. polite way and now she discovers that socially lie actually has the advantage, while in other respects his position is much superior to the one she occupies ! Human nature, with all its ductility and tensility, could not endure this strain without yielding some where. And in order that nothing should he lacking to D O complete the measure of her annoyance, she now re members that he was positively good-looking ; that his eyes were not only bright, but expressive; that Ilis voice was pleasant and mellow, and that there was something singularly attractive about his smile. She even remembered that his exceedingly unconven tional tweed suit was well made, and fitted him per fectly, and that as he stood there on the beach, talk ing with John his eyes full of earnestness, his face lit up with the eagerness of discussion he presented an appearance by no means displeasing to the fem inine eye. Would her memory have been so tenacious of these details if she had not learned from her brother of Mr. Dunbar's position and wealth ? Probably not ; this, however, proves nothing except that Madge was human, and consequently subject to infirmities and limitations. In a few days John Disney called upon Mr. Dun- bar to urge him to come over and spend an evening in the Disney household. " Do some mission work with us," John said. "My mother is away called out of town by the serious illness of her father; my father has two or three special cases which keep him busy, so that my sister AN EVENING AT DR. DISNEY'S. 75 and I are left very much to ourselves. O, it is pitiful, in a whole city full, friends \ve have none ! You see I remember Hood." "Yes," answered Dunbar, "but you always had a remarkable memory for poetry, and what you failed to remember your own fancy supplied. By the way, where is that sad-faced youth with the voice into which he used to squeeze tears, and who put us through a course of agonies with his 'Bridge of Sighs?'" " You mean Muggs ? " oo "Muggs was our name for him and an appro priate name too." " And yet I always liked Muggs ; he was a sincere, well-meaning fellow." "Yes," Dunbar answered, "but he had no future that I could see. He could recite a little and banjo a little, but the man who expects to make his way in life must have a more effective weapon than a banjo, noble and soulful instrument as it is." " ' Shake not thy gory locks at me,' " laughed John ; "'Hude am I in my speech, and little blessed with the soft phrase of peace,' but there are some sins which cannot in honesty be brought to my door." "That being the case," was the smiling response, "you may expect me on the evening you name." Madge Disney was one of those exceedingly for tunate, but (though the admission must be made with profound sorrow) not very numerous, young ladies who look well however costumed. Still, a white gown of some soft material, simply made, but ex quisitely fitting, in no wise lessened her attractive- 76 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. ness. She was fairly tall, of superb figure ; hair just dark enough to escape the auburn tint, but which had a trick of catching and holding the sunlight; eyes that were open and clear, yet rich with mys terious life, and, while her features taken separately may not have attained Grecian harmony, the general expression was undoubtedly one to be desired ; for Madge Disney was just about as winsome and at tractive as any one woman has a right to be. As she came forward in the soft light of the summer evening to greet Hugh Dnnbar she formed the chief figure in a very pleasing picture, and he thought well, suppose we do not concern ourselves just now with what Hugh Dunbar thought. Thought is a very elusive thing. It cannot be poured out like molten iron into molds prepared to receive it. Language is to thought as the beach is to the ocean a place where we may stand at times and gaze out upon the formless and the infinite. The man who can say all he thinks has either a marvelous vocabu lary or such limitations of thinking as commend him to our pity. " O, it is very simple," Mr. Dunbar said, in reply to John's question as to how he had entered upon his present work. " I have always been, just as you are now, interested in the social problem, and I was anxious to reach definite conclusions." " What are social problems ? " asked Madge. " The more I hear of what people call socialism the less I understand it." " Your perplexity, Miss Disney, is very natural. In point of fact there is no such thing as socialism ; AN EVENING AT DR. DISNEY'S. 77 neither are there distinctively social problems," Mr. Dunbar answered. " And yet," interrupted John for it was evident Mr. Dunbar had not completed his answer " every one is talking more or less about ' socialism,' ' the emancipation of the working classes,' the ' crimes of monopoly,' and things of that sort." " Yery true," said Mr. Dunbar, " but there is probably no general matter concerning which there is so much said and so little understood. The social economist, as he calls himself, has his theory; the labor agitator has one entirely different, while the philanthropist has yet another one." " But am I to understand that you deny the very existence of socialism and social problems?" ques tioned John. " As such, yes and yes most decidedly ! " " I am afraid, Mr. Dunbar, that your very kindly efforts to enlighten me have taken us away from my brother's question as to your reasons for the work in which you are now engaged," Madge suggested. " No," pleasantly remarked Mr. Dunbar, " your brother's question is still in the foreground." John, who in his way was partial to an argument, evidently had another question about ready, but Madge was too quick for him. "Now, John, please allow Mr. Dunbar to answer your first question before you propose another," she said, hastily, for she was anxious to know why Hugh Dunbar had put aside the life which was properly his and entered upon another so entirely different. " I said, a moment since," Mr. Dunbar remarked, 78 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. evading most adroitly a question which was almost personal, and making the conversation more genera!, " that there was no such thing as socialism, and that the term ' social problems ' was quite misunderstood. We have just the game old problems which the world has ever had the problems of poverty, of suffering, of distress, of drunkenness, of ruin, of waste and these we must face and solve." " Still, the question of my brother remains, and, as you have said, in the foreground," Madge said, with a quiet smile, clearly discerning Mr. Dunbar's pur pose to lead the conversation away from himself. " Well, there was nothing remarkable about it," he replied, seeing no way to avoid an explanation. "First I joined a mission band who went out from the seminary. Then I connected myself with one of the East Side churches, took a class in the Sunday school, visited in the homes of my scholars, through them had access to other homes so I gradually came to know something of the people." " And what sort of people did you find ? " asked Madge, very much as she would have asked Stanley concerning the people he met in Central Africa. "The same kind of people I have known all my life," was the reply. " Not so well housed or as well clad, but the same people. In some cases the frame enhances the picture, but, Miss Disney, when one is looking at a Murillo or a Rubens the frame is not of much consequence. There is no difference in the book of life on the East Side or the West Side ex cept in the binding. The story is the same." " When it became known that you had a basket of AN EVENING AT DR. DISNEY'S. 79 loaves and fishes your ministry doubtless became very popular," John good-lmmoredly remarked. " I have kept the basket out of sight thus far," was the quiet reply. " How could you? You were driven over to your Sunday school ; you brought your friends at times t sec what was going on. Besides, were there not ' out ward and visible signs of an inward and spiritual grace ? ' Madge, my only and well-beloved but some what nnregenerate sister, it is for your benefit that I am quoting from the Catechism." " My dear friend, I do not go there as you sug gest. Where you found me the other day, there I live." This was said without the least affectation or at tempt at the heroic. " Live there ! " Madge and John exclaimed, in the same breath. " Why, of course. How else could I do the peo ple any good ? This whole scheme of charity serv ice throwing things at the poor, like shells from a mortar is of no use whatever. There must be direct personal contact between the rich and the poor air- other service does more harm than good." " This is hard on many of our charities and insti tutions," said Dr. Disney, who had been called out immediately after dinner, and came into the room while Dnnbar \vas speaking. " I do not mean to be hard on them," Mr. Dnnbar answered, " only on the method of administration. The remedy for the present state of things is not in soup kitchens or bread tickets. Often it seems to 80 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. me as if we tossed help to the poor as we do bones to a dog. We must adopt a very different course if we would really effect anj'thing. But now, Miss Disney, may we not have a little music ? " There were two or three reasons why Madge was willing to accede to this very natural request: she had a nice hand ; she sat gracefully ; she looked well at the piano, and she played with a fair measure of skill. There were about the same number of reasons why Mr. Dunbar rather abruptly asked for this favor : the conversation was more personal than he enjoyed ; the Disney atmosphere was not seriously sympathetic ; he could endure average music with a patience ac quired through much suffering, and he would have a chance to study Madge more closely. So they went over to the piano, Dr. Disney and John remaining within easy speaking distance of each other. " Singular sort of man," said Dr. Disney to John, under cover of one of Madge's double-handed crashes. " Yery," answered John. "Married?" "No." " Particular friend of yours ? " "Yes." Madge was now rippling along the upper register, with little bits of music dripping from her fingers like a fountain playing in the courtyard of an Ital ian villa. Then came another double-hander, and with it: AN EVENING AT DR. DISNEY'S. 81 " He seems interested in Madge." " Hadn't noticed it." " Get him to come over again." " Yes, sir." More ripples at the piano, involving silence every where else, bnt soon another crash. "I like his appearance." " I like him." " Good family ? " " Very." " I hope we may see more of him." "So do I." 82 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. CHAPTER XI. A Sunday on the East Side. THOUGH Hugh Dunbar had spoken to the Disneys in a quiet, simple way concerning the opening of his work on the East Side, yet there were times when he was tempted to give up in utter despair. Everything seemed hopeless. The conditions were all discouraging. His first visit to the church with which he had resolved to connect himself was a bitter experience. The structure, though architecturally distinguished from the other buildings on the street, was anything but imposing or impressive. An iron fence, sadly in need of paint and broken in several places, straggled along the front of the edifice, enclosing a narrow strip of ground intended presumably as a grass plot, but the grass, through years of neglect, had become discouraged, hence only grew in rank, sprawling tufts, and at such distances as hardly to be on speak ing terms. The spaces intervening were either bare or ornamented with scraps of dirty paper and the usual litter that accumulates, no one knows how. Over the entrance was supposedly a stained-glass window, but so covered with a rusty netting of heavy wire as to hide it almost completely. Under this window, a little to one side, was a board of Gothic pretensions, which board was intended to set forth the name of the church and the times when A SUNDAY ON THE EAST SIDE. 83 services were held, but the years luid so bleached it as to make it practically useless. The church doors were not altogether guiltless of paint, still not enough remained to establish the original color. On entering the vestibule Dunbar saw that the walls were dingy, the matting ragged, and every thing just as cheerless as could well be imagined. He went down a short stairway of five or six steps leading to a basement, called by courtesy a Sunday school room. An ungainly, space-absorbing furnace stood in one corner, from which three or four rusty, dusty, hot-air pipes, reached out, traveling the en tire length of the room. Some half dozen stiff, awkward gas lights hung from the ceiling, but the ceiling being low, and the lights not protected, the results were seen in broad sooty patches. A picture of a distressed young female, out somewhere in mid- ocean, holding a very woe-begone face to the sky, yet supposed to be singing a Sunday school hymn, filled a space on one of the walls. A big linen map, detached half way across from the bottom roller, and curling up quite extensively, with heavy lines and angles, indicating the tours of the first apostles, occupied a space on the opposite wall. Here and there were some mottoes of the old time " sampler" order, to which the Sunday school children were supposed to look for help and inspiration in their moments of weariness. The whole place was damp, grewsome, chilly, and Dunbar thought that the Board of Health should not permit children to be cooped up in such a place. Then he went up stairs, where he 84 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. saw stiff, uncomfortable pews ; dusty, faded carpets ; cracked, discolored walls ; a wheezy old organ, from which the soul of music had long since departed ; a pulpit with draperies worn and ragged, and every thing else to correspond. Hugh Dnnbar did some serious thinking as he went through this East Side church. He contrasted it with the churches on Madison and Fifth Avenues. He thought of the rich decorations, the soft carpets, the inviting pews, the blending of color, the lavish outlay to make the place attractive. Then he thought of the splendid organ, the carefully chosen choir, the imposing service, the fashionable congrega tion. " These people over here," he said to himself, " are our brothers and sisters, sharers in the common lot, children of the same Father ; and yet we have deserted them. Anything more selfish or cowardly is hardly possible." But while Mr. Dunbar met with many serious discouragements, he was more than compensated in making the acquaintance of the Rev. Frank Sterling, the senior clergyman in charge of the Mission. Mr. Sterling's seniority, however, was not so much a matter of years, for he had barely turned thirty, as of experience ; he having been associated with Mr. Hartley in the Mission for some time, and now, ow ing to Mr. Hartley's removal to a Western city, was in full charge. Hugh Dunbar could not possibly have fallen into better hands, for Sterling was a genial, hearty, manly fellow, with enough of the Old Adam remaining to keep his feet on the ground and have human blood in his veins. He was shrewd, but A SUNDAY ON THE EAST SIDE. 85 not cynical ; keen, but not bitter ; religious, but not obnoxiously pious. " The children of this generation," he said to D unbar, as they stood on the street corner one even ing, " are wiser than the children of light. Look in there and contrast that with the church we have just left." Dunbar looked in and saw embossed ceilings, at tractive though gaudy decorations, glittering brass work, and any quantity of light and color and warmth. "Look across the street," he said at another time, pointing to where scores and hundreds of young people were crowding into a cheap theater. " Some of the wise men of Gotham should try to solve that problem." Hugh made some very proper remark about over coming evil with good, whereupon Sterling said : " Of course those of us who have boxes at the Carnegie and the Metropolitan ; who attend any number of fetes in the season ; who regard yachts and horses and country houses as among the neces saries of life; who will spend on bonbons what would support a family we will think that those people," pointing again to the crowds who were still thronging in, " are very foolish and extravagant ; but, Dunbar, do you know that that poor, cheap, miser able show, with its claptrap and tinsel, is about all the relaxation multitudes have. How so many of them live as they do goodness only knows ! " They walked out quite frequently, and within easy gunshot of the church Dunbar found almost 86 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. every form of amusement that could be devised music halls, dance halls, cheap shows, and drinking places without number. " I was a good deal of a prig when I first came over here," said Sterling one evening, after a walk a little longer than usual, during which they had seen something of the seamy side of their parish, " a proper, prudish, pious prig ; but when I tried to put myself in the place of some of these people I found they were doing better than I would. No man knows himself until he has been tried. You have no desire to steal, but what if you were hungry ? You have no wish to drink, but suppose your life was utterly dreary and hopeless ? You cherish honor and virtue, but how if you found dishonor and vice much more profitable, and without them would starve?" Dunbar's first Sunday in his new parish was al most as discouraging as his first visit to the Mission. As he made his way he could not but notice the swarms of people who crowded the streets. Children of all ages and conditions were playing in their usual noisy way. Women with babies in their arms were standing around doorways or sitting on the steps. Younger women leaned out of the open windows, many of them with frowsy heads, and generally un kempt in their appearance. Elderly women carried baskets and bundles, as if they were coming from the grocery store or meat market. Men lounged around carelessly, most of them smoking short clay pipes, and holding such generous conversation as could be heard clear across the street. The younger A SUNDAY ON THE EAST SIDE. 87 men had donned their Sunday raiment, and as a further mark of Sabbath observance had exchanged the customary pipe for a pretentious cigar. Nominally the saloons at the corner and down the avenue were closed, but Mr. Dimbar saw numbers of men going in and coming out, no one seeming to mind them. In fact, none of the stores was closed, and people were making their purchases just as on other days. Hugh Dimbar was shocked at what he saw, and later when he came to know Mr. Sterling better he spoke of the reckless disregard of the Sab bath. " And why not? " was the startling reply of Mr. Sterling. "Many of these people were at work till midnight, and had no other time to do their market ing." Hugh ventured on a remonstrance, but Sterling was prompt in his answer: "Dunbar, there is a whole pile of rubbish to be cleared away before we can build a wall of Sabbath observance in this city. The Saturday half holiday must apply to mills and factories as well as banks and government offices. Workmen must be paid off earlier. Stores must close earlier. To talk, as many of us do, about the Fourth Commandment and the American Sabbath is utter folly. The old Jewish plan of beginning the day before needs to be revived." When Mr. Dunbar went to the Mission on that first Sunday morning a confused, mystified expres sion came into his face as, in glancing quickly over the congregation, he saw Sister Nora. Try as he would he could not quite reconcile her with either the 88 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. place or the congregation. She sat under the gallery, on the side, in such relations to the window as to be in the shade, her face also partially hidden, and yet the impression deepened upon Dunbar that he had met her before, but where he could not recall. He tried faithfully to follow the order of service ; still his mind, and his eyes too, reverted unconsciously to the quiet figure in the pew under the gallery. One moment he was certain, the next he was uncertain. One time a name almost leaped to his lips, only to be dismissed as wildly improbable. Mnemonics is a great science ; so is metaphysics ; so is everything that relates to the movement of mind and spirit ; but when one is anxious to connect a face with a name or a name with a face it is sur prising how little help science affords. At the close of the service Mr. Sterling said : " I am anxious for you to meet Sister Nora," and in a few moments Mr. Dunbar was introduced to the very person who had so deeply interested him. As the one looked at the other instantly there was a flash of recognition, though neither spoke, just gravely bowing. Mr. Sterling being called aside, Sister Nora quietly said : " Mr. Dunbar, as you are here on the same errand as I am let me be * Sister Nora,' which for the time being is sufficient for all purposes." " Then Mr. Sterling does not know ? " " He knows my name, and that I have come from the other side of the city, but not much more. At least I think not." " The same is true in my case," Mr. Dunbar said. A SUNDAY ON THE EAST SIDE. 89 "Then we understand each other?" " I hope so." It is not to be expected that this chapter fully ex plains itself; still, like the stern lights of a ship, it may throw some gleams upon waters over which we have already sailed. 90 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. CHAPTER XII. Why Elinor Became "Sister Nora." f LINOR ARLINGTON, known to us as " Sister Nora," was the daughter and only child of a wealthy New York merchant, who died just before our story opens, leaving her a large fortune. Her life had not been a happy one. Mr. Arlington, a man of the Mark Brompton type, had given him self unreservedly to business ; hence the entire burden of social duties and obligations fell upon his w r ife. In the beginning Mrs. Arlington was a sweet, gentle, though somewhat romantic woman ; given a little to certain fancies and ambitions, but as life took on its more real phases the visions of girlhood gradually disappeared. She was rich, and according to the popular notion should have been happy, but she was not happy far from it. She was the mis tress of a large and elegant house, but there is a vast difference between a house and a home, and hers was only a house. She had that which is supposed to meet the full desire of a woman's hope a rich and varied wardrobe, but slie had an empty, desolate heart. For some time after Elinor was born Mrs. Arling ton seemed much as in the more simple and joyous days, but her husband was ambitions, social demands were inexorable ; so her little daughter was given to the care of servants, and the old. monotonous life was resumed. Not possessing any particular strength WHY ELINOR BECAME "SISTER NORA." 91 of character, and not being fitted specially for leader ship, her position in the procession was not a very conspicuous one, still she had to keep inarching with the others. If one has any choice of position in the social parade, the best place, most assuredly, is up close to the band, for leadership, though attended with some embarrassment, has the compensation of prominence. The next best place is at the rear, as it affords op portunity of dropping out in a quiet, unobtrusive way. The most difficult and tiresome station in the procession is that of the main body ; for it does noth ing except march under orders. Mrs. Arlington was in the main body, and just marched with the others. She went to the opera ; she went to the horse show ; she went to a prescribed number of entertainments; she went to the usual functions. For several seasons she kept her place in the ranks, then she slackened ; her uniform wasn't quite so jaunty, nor worn with such effect ; her step dragged a little at times, though she smiled and pre tended it was a stumble, and her face, despite its " pipe clay," began to show the strain. At length she dropped, dropped right down ; so the ambulance was sent for, and she was carried out of the ranks. " Utter exhaustion," said Dr. Disney, as he laid his practiced fingers on her wrist, feeling, in that tender, delicate way of his, for the pulse which he knew was both feeble and irregular. " Tired out," he murmured, sympathetically, after he had found the pulse, for it was even weaker and more intermit tent than he had feared. 7 92 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. " Mrs. Arlington must have a complete rest," lie said in the library to Mr. Arlington, when he had completed his examination. " She has been over doing of late. Too much care ; too much respon sibility ; too many burdens for one so sensitive and highly organized." "Too much care!" repeated Philip Arlington, after Dr. Disney had gone, and he was thinking over what the doctor had said. " She had no care what ever, at least none that I knew of." " Too much responsibility ! " he went on. " What possible responsibility did she have?" " Too many burdens ! " he continued. " But what woman had a lighter or easier life ? " He had taken her from a little parsonage, back among the Connecticut hills, where for years her father had ministered to a well-meaning but rather austere people. In this quiet country home her life, though limited in many ways, was as free from taint as the snow, which lay a heavenly white, gleaming in the winter's sun. No flower of the early summer was more deliciously sweet or innocent as she stood beside him on that June morning in her father's little church, and repeated the solemn words which fell so impressively from her father's lips. They had known each other from childhood. Phil Arlington had been her sturdy little champion when they both attended the district school. He fought her battles every time it was necessary, and a good many times when it was not necessary. He pulled her sled with his as they went to the top of the hill where the " coast " started, and woe betide WHY ELINOR BECAME "SISTER NORA." 93 the boy who " interfered " or attempted to " run her down." Once Bill Jukes, who was steering the " double runner " upon which she was a passenger, managed to tip over the whole load in a way which was too awkward to be accidental, but though Phil said nothing just then, yet next morning when Bill Jukes appeared in school his nose was demoralized, his upper lip was badly cut, and his face had various signals of distress. The fact that Phil could not hold either pen or pencil in his right hand for two or three days was never fully explained, but some how there was an impression all through the school that the condition of Phil's hand accounted for Bill Jukes's nose. After Phil went to Dan Hubbard's grocery store as a sort of clerk it was noticed that Jennie Randall had a great many errands in that grocery store, and never complained no matter how often her mother sent her to make purchases. It was a sad day for both of them when Phil went to New York to enter upon business, but he went with her picture in his heart, her kiss upon his lips, and her father's promise to give her to him when he had a home ready. All these things went through Mr. Arlington's mind, as with sad, anxious face he sat in his library, pondering the words of Dr. Disney : " Too much care, too much responsibility, too many burdens." " And what care had she ? " he kept asking him self. He forgot that she had self-care, self-interests, the most distressing of care, for a life which has no 94 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. interests but its own is self-absorbed, and having no centrifugal force to swing it out upon tin orbit of usefulness, is soon drawn within the narrowest of circles, and becomes a poor, helpless thing. And the same was true of her burdens and respon sibilities. They were all her own. There was noth ing vicarious in them. She was not bearing or suf fering for others. Her life had no great motive in it, which, like the fly wheel of an engine, holds and balances the power. The machine, therefore, went all to pieces, and though Dr. Disney knew that the case was a very serious one, yet it was even more serious than he imagined. Perhaps if Philip Arlington had been content with his fair proportion of " bread," all this would not have happened. While he was laboring for more than lie ever could consume, his wife was dying of soul hunger. lie had vowed most solemnly " to love and to cherish," and while in one way he had done both, in another way he had done neither. Mrs. Arlington would have been content with coarse, cheap " bread " if with it she could have had the joy and companionship of the one whose presence made all of life for her. "Phil," she said one day, as he sat beside her couch, for she was now unable to leave her room, " I wish you would send for Elinor." " I have sent for her," he answered. " She will be here to-morrow, though I meant it as a pleasant surprise for you." " Thank you," she gratefully responded. " I am WHY ELINOR BECAME "SISTER NORA." , 95 sorry to call her home just now, but I feel very lonely at times. You see you are away so much;" and there was a catch in her voice which suggested the possibilities of a sob. On the morrow Elinor came. She had been away a great deal during the past few years, for Mr. Ar lington preferred that both her preparatory and col lege work should be done at some distance from the city, Elinor not being specially vigorous or robust. Mother and daughter soon began to understand each other, the inner life of the one being quick ened by illness, and that of the other by sympathy ; and like flowers turning to the light, so they turned toward each other. Consequently out of a relation which in the beginning was almost formal there came up a holy affection which blossomed in exqui site beauty, filling the whole house with its sweet and delicious fragrance. "My life, Elinor, has been a sad mistake," Mrs. Arlington said one morning, as Elinor sat beside her mother's bed, having just closed a book from which she had been reading. " I have lived only for my self," she went on, "and it has been poor, pitiful liv ing." Early that morning, long before Elinor was awake, Mrs. Arlington's memories had gor.e back to the little parsonage in the Connecticut hills. She had heard the birds sing in the rich, sweet notes of her girlhood, notes that lifted themselves into the bend ing sky, and went on to join the chorus of the an gels. She had heard the hum of the bees, as they came and went from the honeysuckle at the door of % DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. the rnanse, taking something of its wondrous sweet ness, but leaving enough to fill the air with that dainty perfume. She had heard her father's voice as in the little garden his song broke out : " Awake, my soul, and with the sun Thy daily stage of duty run." She had heard her mother calling her as was her wont, " Jennie !"" Jennie !" a tender, loving em phasis upon each word. The dear little parsonage is now occupied by strangers. Her father sleeps not far from the church in which he had ministered for so many years. Be side his grave is that of her mother, while she is here, alone in this mighty city, looking sadly back upon days which never can return. "Elinor," she said, at another time when they were alone and were having one of their serious heart-to-heart talks, " I have heard the cry of the children and the moan of the poor, but I was so taken up with my own concerns that I gave them no heed. O, I am ashamed to die, for I have done nothing for anyone but myself! " " Disturbed sleep. Feverish conditions. Restless nights," said Dr. Disney, even more tenderly and sympathetically, for lie was now fully aware of the extreme gravity of Mrs. Arlington's illness. "Nora," she said one day, for that was her pet name for Elinor, " I am not going to exact a promise from you, but if you have opportunity, will you do something for me after after I am gone ? " looking wistfully into the tearful face of her daughter. WHY ELINOR BECAME "SISTER NORA." , 97 Elinor could not speak, but Mrs. Arlington felt the silent promise which was made. " Then do something for those to whom life is so hard, and for whom so little is being done. Per haps in some way you can atone for my selfishness and sin," turning her poor, worn face to the window, and looking out with weary, anxious eyes upon the sky, from which the light was now fading. After a few moments she spoke again : " You can do what you think best. Perhaps you might put a bed in some hospital, or a room in a home for old people, or something else may seem even better, but whatever you do, remember me, dear, won't you ? " Then came the terrible days, when Philip Arling ton would joyously have given his whole fortune if he could only have gone back and started life with her once more. And how different the new life would be ! But it was too late. The bread for which she had hungered so long was not now within reach, and she starved to death ! At first Mr. Arlington hardly realized the full force of the blow, but gradually there came upon him a feeling of utter desolation. For a time he tried to absorb himself even more fully in business, hoping in this way to deaden something of his pain, but when he returned in the evening the house seemed so lonely and deserted, more like a house in habited by ghosts and shadows than by living, human creatures. Elinor did the best she could to comfort the stricken man, but his grief was too deep and his 98 DWELLERS IN GOTHAM. sorrow too heavy for even such sympathy as hers. And then came the bitter remembrance that he had neglected his wife, that in his eager, determined pur suit of wealth he had left her alone, and that had it not been for his selfishness she might still be with him. At such times conscience was implacable. Sternly it directed his horror-stricken eyes to scenes and events back in the distant years. Poor Philip Arlington ! The world said that he was a rich man, but at heart he was poor and desolate. One morning the rising bell rang out as loudly as it ever did, but Philip Arlington did not hear it. He would never hear it again ! Dr. Disney said it was angina pcctoris, and so tilled out the certificate ; but had he given the com mon translation breast pang only allowing the pang to be of the spirit and not of the flesh, his return to the registrar would have been the exact truth. While yet in the very prime of life with what should have been his best years still before him ; with strength and time and opportunity all spent upon pursuits that were purely selfish ; with no memorial of life or character save that which could be written on a balance sheet Philip Arlington passed out from the world of men, leaving everything behind him, and going as poor as when he was born into the unseen and unknown. "We understand now why it is that " Sister Nora " is present at the East Side church to give greetings and welcome to Hugh Dunbar on that Sunday morning spoken of in the preceding chapter. HUGH DUN BAR HAS A REVELATION. ' 99 CHAPTER XIII. Hugh Dunbar Has a Revelation. T