IC-NRLF 
 
LUCKY 
 
 A Tale of the Western Prairie 
 
 BY 
 
 EVA BELL BOTSFORD 
 fJ 
 
 "Words are tiny drops of ink." ANON. 
 
 BUFFALO 
 
 THE PETER PAUL BOOK COMPANY 
 1895 
 
Copyright, 1895, 
 By EVA BELL BOTSFORD. 
 
 PRINTED AND BOUND BY 
 
 THE PETER PAUL BOOK COMPANY, 
 
 BUFFALO, N. Y. 
 
TO 
 
 SCHOOLMATES AND TEACHERS OF THE 
 
 DETROIT TRAINING SCHOOL, 
 
 THIS BO OK IS INSCRIBED 
 
 WITH REGARD AND 
 
 AFFECTION. 
 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 A LILY AMONG WEEDS 9 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 A DREAMING GIRL AND A PRAIRIE KNIGHT .... 18 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 FOLK LORE AND THE NEW NEIGHBORS 28 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 BUB AND ROSE . 39 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 AFTER FOUR YEARS 51 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 IN THE CITY 64 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 A PROPOSAL 75 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 THE PALLADIAN ACADEMY AND NEW LESSONS OF LIFE 86 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 THALIA 97 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 AT THE ROYSTER FARM LUND COMES INTO HlS 
 
 INHERITANCE 115 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 MRS. STAR-HARTMAN 127 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 THALIA'S OLD STUDIO 137 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 THE CAMP MEETING AND WHAT AN OLD BOOK TOLD 148 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 ALL THINGS COME ROUND TO HIM WHO WILL BUT 
 
 WAIT 157 
 
LUCKY A TALE OF THE WESTERN 
 PRAIRIE. 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 A LILY AMDNG WEEDS. 
 
 THE great, pompousj^Waced sun came up from 
 behind the little green hills, and the cackle of 
 ducks from the region of the rush-grown ravine 
 greeted his advent. The farm hands were bringing 
 out their breaking ploughs from the machine shed, 
 whistling stray snatches of dance music and love 
 songs. Two buxom girls in pink calico sun-bonnets 
 stood beside some pails of foaming milk, guarding it 
 from the ravages of pigs and chickens until the arrival 
 of the man whose mission was to convey it to the vats 
 in the dairy house. The cattle were leisurely making 
 their way through the wide open gate of the spacious 
 pine-board corral, quite indifferent to the " Whoop 
 halloo! G'lang there! " of the herd boy, which rang 
 out sonorously upon the air, accompanied by the 
 cracking of an immense whip wielded with more 
 ostentation than purpose. They knew the whip and 
 its owner, and were not afraid of its sting. 
 
 Ninety sleek milch cows were there in the herd, of 
 various sizes and colors. There was a mild-eyed dun 
 beauty with white spots on her flanks, a noble roan 
 with a line along her back, and a coquettish little 
 speckled heifer with spiked horns; but the queen of the 
 herd was a superb black creature with a star on her 
 
io 'LU.CKY. 
 
 brow who carried her* head with a proud air as if con- 
 scious of superior distinction. Slowly they lagged, 
 nipping at the tender grass as they went, while the herd 
 boy rode to and fro on his ginger-colored pony, vainly 
 shouting and flourishing his formidable whip. 
 
 This was the dairy farm of the Roysters. To the 
 right of the corral was the spring, noted far and wide 
 for its water of icy coldness, walled up with limestone 
 and shaded by overhanging willows. It was the pride 
 of the farm. To the south, were the barns and sheds, 
 while to the west stood the dairy house, or cheese 
 house, as it was more commonly called, an immense 
 frame structure painted pale yellow like the cheeses it 
 contained; to the right of that, was a quaint L shaped 
 building known as the <( House." In this latter place 
 Mrs. Royster held her august sway and also the 
 official position of postmistress for the settlement, that 
 honor having been thrust upon her because no one 
 else would have it. 
 
 By the spring* stood a child of some ten or. eleven 
 years of age, dressed in a loose gown of coarse, brown 
 ducking. Her feet were bare and scarred by daily 
 contact with stone and stubble. This was Nana 
 Meers, adopted daughter, bound child, ward, or no- 
 body knew what, of the Roysters. She was beautiful, 
 not with the soft outlines and fresh tints of the ordi- 
 narily pretty child, but wildly, defiantly dark and 
 lovely. Her arms were full of long trailing rush 
 blades, and a sober smile stole into her great eyes, as 
 she stroked the green, glossy, ribbon-like things, with 
 
A LILY AMONG WEEDS. II 
 
 one little brown palm. The look changed when the 
 herd boy rode past. It became intense and eager. 
 She flew to him, and put her hand entreatingly upon 
 his stirrup. 
 
 1 1 What is it, young ' un ? " came the gruff query. 
 
 "Oh Lund, you won't forget to get my almanick, 
 now will you ? ' ' she coaxed plaintively. 
 
 " Not if I think of it," was the curt reply, and the 
 boy drove his cattle away, over the hills and out of 
 sight. 
 
 The child, however, was contented. She returned 
 to the shade of the willows and sat down musing. 
 "I'm going to have a almanick! Won't it be awful 
 splendid! It won't be a old one, but bran' new with 
 white, shiny leaves, and it won't be a borrered one, 
 but all mine, mine, mine! If Lund don't forget it, it 
 will, and I guess he won't." 
 
 Presently, a head appeared at one of the upper 
 windows of the house. Nana started when she saw it, 
 dropping some of the rush blades into the spring. 
 
 " See here! You get away from that spring with 
 your rubbish, you imp! " was the greeting of the new- 
 comer. 
 
 " I ain't a imp! " came the prompt reply, " and I'm 
 glad I spilled 'em in the spring! " 
 
 ' * Take care how you talk to me. ' ' 
 
 "But I ain't!" 
 
 "Didn't I say shut up?" 
 
 "But I ain't!" 
 
 " I'll come down there and larrup you if you say 
 that again!" 
 
1 2 LUCKY. 
 
 "If you do, I'll kill you!" 
 
 "Haw! Haw! Haw! Talk about killin', you 
 little slim snipe! " 
 
 " But I will I'll choke you to death! " 
 
 "Haw! Haw! Haw!" 
 
 " Stop laughin' at me, you big big brute! " 
 
 " Look a' here, young one, you're a gettin' a little 
 too sassy. Dry up, and go tend your ducks." 
 
 " I won't tend the ducks, and I'll put more stuff in 
 the spring if I want to." 
 
 The child with a determined toss of the head arose, 
 and started to run away. She had not proceeded far, 
 however, when she heard heavy footfalls behind her, 
 and soon a rough hand grasped her shoulder. 
 
 ' * Say that again ! ' ' hissed a voice in her ear. 
 
 "I will if I want to." 
 
 The hand tightened its grasp. Nana turned, and 
 struck at her tormentor with her little brown fist, at 
 which he laughed exasperatingly. If strength of 
 spirit could slay, Bub Royster in one second would 
 have been no more. As it was, Nana could only 
 battle in the cause of justice with feet, teeth, and nails, 
 which she did right manfully. Bub Royster only 
 laughed the more. 
 
 "Now, see here. I'm going to drown you for 
 your impudence," he said at last, when tired of the 
 sport. Nana struggled while he dragged her to the 
 edge of the spring; but soon her fragile form relaxed, 
 and she felt her head thrust beneath the surface. 
 Then she fainted from exhaustion and fright. 
 
A LILY AMONG WEEDS. 1 3 
 
 When she recovered consciousness, she was lying 
 on the grass, her dress wet from the water which 
 dripped from her curls, and a woman in high, metallic 
 voice was saying: 
 
 " What do you mean by duckin' her in there, and 
 sp'ilin' the water?" 
 
 "She called me names," said Bub. 
 
 4 'Well, you jist stop this onery behavin' or I'll tell 
 your pap." 
 
 Nana sat up, and laughed aloud. Oh, it is a rare 
 day when we see those who have made us suffer dis- 
 comfited in turn! 
 
 The woman hearing the uncontrollable merriment, 
 turned upon the child. 
 
 ' ' Here you ugly sprite, you get out of here, and 
 go to your ducks, or I'll make you laugh out of the 
 other corner of your mouth. You ought to be in the 
 Deform School, and you'll get sent there too, first 
 thing you know! " 
 
 Not caring to match her strength with any one else 
 this morning, Nana scampered away, but once out of 
 sight and hearing, she paused, and her little face turned 
 livid with rage and indignation. 
 
 " If I could only kill them Roysters!" she ex- 
 claimed, stamping her foot. Then a sudden thought 
 struck her. Falling upon her knees, she clasped her 
 hands and prayed. 
 
 " O God, I hate 'em all, Bub and Mis' Roysterand 
 all, and I want you to come and kill 'em, dead, dead, 
 dead all but Lund he's going to get me a alma- 
 nick. Amen. ' ' 
 
14 LUCKY. 
 
 " I guess they're fixed now," she said as she arose. 
 
 The ducks were an exceedingly wild species and 
 required constant watching, lest they should wander 
 away and join the nomadic flocks which daily flew over 
 the farm, now and then pausing to visit their more 
 domestic brothers and sisters, and express their con- 
 tempt for civilization. The Roysters, however, need 
 not care, since they were to suffer annihilation so soon. 
 The sun was warm and the atmosphere lazy. Nana 
 threw herself down among the tall grasses, and let the 
 ducks go their way. When time came for returning 
 home, she could find but half the flock. 
 
 She forebore to search for them. The Roysters 
 might beat her to-day for her carelessness, but they 
 never would again. They were going to die. 
 
 As she had expected, soon after her return, Mrs. 
 Royster's stout cottonwood switch was called into 
 requisition. Nana did not cry when the blows rained 
 down upon her tender shoulders. She was triumph- 
 ing in her sincere belief that the sway of the tyrant 
 was brief. Mrs. Royster was nonplussed. 
 
 "Oh, it don't hurt, don't it? Well, I'll give you 
 something that will ! ' ' and the blows fell thicker and 
 faster. Then Nana wept for the sake of policy, all 
 the while her heart was exulting. 
 
 " Oh, Lund!" she cried to the herd boy, as he came 
 toiling tired and hungry up the path. ' ' I want to tell 
 you something. It's a nawful secret! " 
 
 "Well, what is it ! " 
 
 "By to-morrer morning, the Roysters will all be 
 
A LILY AMONG WEEDS. 15 
 
 dead! " she answered in a whisper not untinged with 
 awe. 
 
 "The young 'un's crazy," Lund muttered. 
 
 " No I aint, and you'll see for yourself and oh, 
 Lund, did you get my almanick ? " 
 
 ' ' No. Forgot it. Come on to supper. ' ' 
 
 But Nana did not care for supper. That almanac 
 had been the desire of her heart for days. The 
 Royster family had no books, not even a bible, and 
 the almanac, especially if there were pictures, con- 
 tained for the lonely child, food for a whole year of 
 dreams. She crept up to her ragged bed in the gar- 
 ret under the rafters, to sob out her disappointment. 
 She had not been there long when a rough, though 
 not unkindly voice called: 
 
 "Nane!" 
 
 The girl sat up and dried her tears. 
 
 " It's Lund! Maybe he has been teasing me, and 
 has brought the almanick, after all! Oh, Lund, where 
 is it? " holding out her hand. 
 
 " Here," said Lund, depositing in the outstretched 
 palm, a huge piece of corn-bread savored with sorg- 
 hum molasses. 
 
 "Oh, no, not that! " 
 
 " Well, what did you expect ? Apple-pie and plum- 
 puddin? " 
 
 " No, no! I only want my almanick! " she sobbed. 
 
 "I I forgot it," stammered Lund. I didn't go 
 near the burg to-day. I didn't know you cared so 
 much. What do you want an almanick for anyway, 
 kid?" 
 
1 6 LUCKY. 
 
 "Oh, Lund, they are de-light-ful ! Such pictures, 
 and such readin'." 
 
 " Well, I'll go to-morrer, cross my heart, I will! " 
 
 "Bless you, Lund!" and Nana threw her arms 
 about the boy's neck, and kissed him. 
 
 " Oh my! The girl is crazy shore enough! " mut- 
 tered Lund. "But," he observed, after a little 
 reflection, " I don't know but I like such craziness, 
 after all." 
 
 " You, Lundy!" called Mrs. Royster sharply, from 
 below. 
 
 "I must go; Mis' Royster' s a callin'," said Lund 
 reluctantly. 
 
 " What are you a doin' a wastin' ot you time up 
 there ? Come down here this minute, or I'll pack you 
 right off to the Perform School! There's the young 
 calves to feed, and the turkeys to shut up, and the 
 kindlin' to get in 'gainst mornin'. What with you 
 and that shiftless girl a shirkin' of your work, I'll be 
 driv' to my grave," the voice continued. 
 
 " Good-bye, kid. Sorry I can't stay," said Lund. 
 
 "You won't forget to remember to-morrer," the 
 girl asked, creeping close to him, and laying her cheek 
 against his ragged sleeve. 
 
 ' ' Catch me a forgettin' . ' ' 
 
 " If you aint the laziest, good for nothingest rascal 
 that ever lived! I " from below. 
 
 "Yes'm, yes'm," answered Lund promptly, thus 
 pouring oil on the troubled waters. 
 
 An hour later every one on the farm was asleep 
 
A LILY AMONG WEEDS. 1 7 
 
 except the boy. He was tossing to and fro on his hard 
 bed saying over and over to himself: 
 
 " She did take it hard didn't she ? Well, I'll get it 
 for her to-morrer, shore. Pore little kid ! ' ' 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 A DREAMING GIRL AND A PRAIRIE 
 KNIGHT. 
 
 YOU, Lundy!" 
 1 ' W-li-a-a-t ? ' ' was the drowsy reply. 
 
 " Is that the way to speak to me, you pack o' lazy 
 bones ? Why don' t you say, ' what mum ' to your 
 betters ! ' ' 
 
 * ' What mum ? ' ' repeated Lund obediently. 
 
 " You jest stir your stumps now and mount up to 
 that loft, and tell that girl to be up and about a 
 searchin' for them ducks, for I swear she shan't have 
 a bite to eat till I see them, every blessed one before 
 my very eyes. ' ' 
 
 Having issued these peremptory orders, Mrs. Roy- 
 ster went her way singing: 
 
 " How tedious and tasteless the hour." 
 
 She did not know the hymn and never got beyond 
 the first line, following out the air with a cracked and 
 doleful hum. The farm hands averred that she made 
 many an hour tedious and tasteless for them with that 
 hum. 
 
 Lund opened his eyes, surprised to find it morning 
 so soon. He arose and dressed, then climbed the 
 shaky ladder very softly, lest he should awaken the 
 sleeper a moment before he must. Lund's hours of 
 
A DREAMING GIRL AND A PRAIRIE KNIGHT. 19 
 
 slumber were dear to him, being as they were the hap- 
 piest of his life, and it seemed cruel to rouse the girl 
 from sweet unconsciousness to ugly hard reality. Be- 
 sides, Nana had become an especial object of consider- 
 ation to him since the previous night. No one but 
 she had ever kissed him since the day his mother had 
 been laid to rest in the back woods of Iowa. 
 
 "Nane!" he called gently, perking his head up 
 over the floor of the loft. No answer. 
 
 "Nane!" still louder. 
 
 ' ' H-e-y ? ' ' from the corner where Nana lay, half 
 asleep, half awake. 
 
 ' ' Mis' Royster says ' ' 
 
 ' ' Aint she dead yet ? ' ' inquired the drowsy Nana. 
 
 " Dead, Nane? What do you mean ?" 
 
 ''Just what I say. Well, if she ain't, she will be 
 soon. Tell her I'm comin'." 
 
 Not long after, Nana came into the little bare apart- 
 ment which served as dining-room and kitchen in one, 
 where the farm hands were devouring their morning 
 repast. 
 
 ' ' You get out o' here, ' ' was Mrs. Royster' s greeting. 
 
 " I won't till I've had my breakfast," declared Nana. 
 
 "You won't! Well, we'll see," Mrs. Royster 
 returned, accompanying her remark with a sound box 
 on Nana's ear. 
 
 The farm hands laughed. Mrs. Royster gave them 
 an approving look. 
 
 " See there. They're laughin' at you, spunky, and 
 well you deserve it. Now get. ' ' 
 
20 LUCKY. 
 
 " I don't care how much they laugh. They're just 
 as bad as you are, and I hate 'em just as much, and 
 I'm going to have something to eat," said Nana, 
 seizing a plate of corn bread that stood within reach. 
 
 " Oh, you will, will you ?" exclaimed Mrs. Royster, 
 "We' 11 see about that." 
 
 She caught Nana's hand, and tried to wrest the 
 bread from her, but the child clung to it as an animal 
 clings to its prey. 
 
 " I'll fix you !" exclaimed Mr. Royster, coming in 
 just in time to witness the disturbance. * ' You are 
 gettin' a bit too sassy to the folks that feed and clothe 
 you and teach you manners. ' ' With this, he snatched 
 the food from her hand, and, thrusting her out, closed 
 the door upon her. 
 
 The next moment an unearthly scream rent the air, 
 and looking in the direction whence it came, they saw 
 Nana, peering through the window, shaking her fist 
 with intense violence, her face livid, her eyes aflame, 
 and her slight figure quivering from head to foot. 
 
 "Ah," she cried, through her clenched teeth, 
 11 You'd better be down on your knees a sayim' your 
 prayers from now on, for you aint long for this world, 
 none of you !" 
 
 "What ails the young one?" said Mrs. Royster, 
 as Nana vanished. 
 
 ' ' She' s mad, ' ' said Mr. Royster. ' ' She needs that 
 taken out of her, and by the old Harry, she'll get it 
 done too." 
 
 "She's an awful young one," said the girl who 
 waited on the farm hands. 
 
A DREAMING GIRL AND A PRAIRIE KNIGHT. 21 
 
 "Terrible !" echoed the hands. 
 
 "She's half crazy," said Bub Royster. 
 
 ' ' She ought to have been sent to the Inform School 
 long afore this," said his mother. 
 
 Lund, who was at the table, listened silently ; but 
 his food stuck in his throat, and refused to be washed 
 down by constant deluges of water from his tin cup. 
 
 " What's the matter, boy? Your face is as red as 
 a beet," remarked the man who sat next to him. 
 
 " Nothin'," muttered Lund dropping his eyes. 
 
 "Try in' to eat too fast. Don't be afraid; you'll 
 get enough, greedy," said Mrs. Royster. 
 
 When he went out, Lund found Nana sitting in a 
 disconsolate attitude in her accustomed place under 
 the willows by the spring. He had his dinner-bag in 
 his hand. He threw it into her lap. 
 
 1 ' There, Nane, ' ' he said, ' 'take it and run for your 
 life. They'll half kill you if they find you here." 
 
 " But you won't have any, then." 
 
 " I don't care. I'm a boy. I don't get hungry." 
 
 The tears rose to Nana's eyes. 
 
 "I won't take it at all, Lund, dear. Here's half 
 of it back. Now, I'll scoot, and before I get back 
 they'll all be dead. Won't we have good old times 
 when they're gone ? Don't forget the almanick." 
 * * # # * # 
 
 The long grass swayed to and fro with a sleepy 
 sound; the lithe dragon-fly hovered over the little pools 
 of stagnant water, beside which the child lay with half- 
 closed eyes, watching the graceful darting hither and 
 
22 LUCKY. 
 
 thither of the pretty creatures on their transparent 
 wings. 
 
 ' ' I wonder why they stay around those ugly 
 puddles," she mused dreamily. "If I had wings, I'd 
 fly away to where everything was nice." Then, as 
 the low, mournful call of the prairie gopher fell upon 
 her ear, she reflected : ' ' What makes him feel so 
 bad ? He must have lost friends that he can't forget. 
 I never had any friends, so I feel bad like him. Poor 
 thing!" 
 
 At intervals a freight-line teamster passed down the 
 great road, which, in the parlance of the West, led 
 from ' ' Omaha to Idaho. ' ' Nana could hear the creak of 
 the oxen' s yoke and the snap of the driver' s whip. The 
 teamsters were called bull-whackers, and Nana never 
 quite overcame her dread of them. Every time she 
 heard their rasping "Whoa, haw," she crouched farther 
 down in the grass to hide. She believed them 
 terrible creatures, in whom the spirit of torture was 
 instinctive, and whose chief delight was to mistreat the 
 poor dumb animals which they drove. It had been 
 the custom of Mrs. Royster when the child was younger 
 to frighten her into submission by the threat, "I'll give 
 you to the bull-whackers. ' ' Now, despite her endeavor 
 to keep well out of sight, one of them had espied her. 
 
 "Hello there, little 'un! " he cried, stopping his 
 wagon, " What do you know ? I am dogoned thirsty, 
 and want a drink. There's water there I should say, 
 by the rushes." 
 
 Nana's heart beat wildly, but she was determined 
 
A DREAMING GIRL AND A PRAIRIE KNIGHT. 23 
 
 not to show her fear. She pointed out to him a little 
 spring that she had hollowed out of a bank with her 
 own hands, aided by a piece of broken milk crock. 
 
 "Gee, that's good !" exclaimed the man, when he 
 had quenched his thirst. "Little 'un, you are a 
 trump. What's better than a drink o' cold water to 
 a man that's dry? Good-bye, chick. If you ever 
 come to the city where I live you must make me a 
 visit, shore. I've two or several little girls like you, 
 and I think a heap of 'em. Here's a paper of goodies 
 one of 'em stuck in my pocket th' other day, when I 
 left. I aint much of a sweet tooth myself, and I'll 
 give 'em to you." 
 
 Nana took the package with a half audible ' 'thank' e, 
 sir," as she had been taught. The man went on, 
 and the little girl sat down to examine the gift. It 
 proved to be ginger snaps. Better than all, the paper 
 in which they were wrapped contained a wonderful 
 story, which suited her appetite also. It was about 
 a noble man who expended his immense wealth in 
 founding colleges and building schools for orphan 
 children such as she. Dr. Eustace was the gentleman's 
 name. He cured the sick too, with a wonderful 
 remedy known as Dr. Eustace's Miraculous Com- 
 pound. Many a young man, the story said, had 
 received a start in business from this benevolent 
 gentleman, whose chief thought in life was to do good 
 to his fellow creatures. 
 
 " I wonder if he would do anything for me," medi- 
 tated Nana. "What a good man he must be !" 
 
24 LUCKY. 
 
 Her dreams were cut short by the sound of a voice, 
 singing lustily : 
 
 "Old Missouri, souri, soo, 
 Old Missouri ay, 
 Old Missouri is the place 
 For you and I." 
 
 There was a rustle among the rushes and a step 
 near at hand. 
 
 " Wall, I never !" broke from the lips of the new- 
 comer. 
 
 ' ' Nana looked up sullenly. He was a neighbor, a 
 bachelor, who lived all alone on his claim, some miles 
 distant. He had a broad jaw covered by a thin, 
 stubby beard, a hair lip, small fish-like eyes, hulking 
 body, and ambling gait. Nana despised him, ?.nd 
 took pains to show it. 
 
 ''Wall, I never !" he repeated. " I go out to find 
 wild game, and run right onto a tame gal. Or bent 
 you tame, little 'un ? I swow I can't tell by the looks 
 of you." 
 
 Nana did not condescend to reply. Joe Slocum, 
 for that was the man's name, placed the butt end of 
 his gun upon the ground, and leaned against the barrel, 
 regarding the child with much amusement. 
 
 "Wall, my gal!" he said at length in the same 
 jocular tone, " when air you goin' to marry me ? " 
 
 Nana immediately found voice. 
 
 " Marry you! I aint goin' to at all! " 
 
 " Yes, you air." 
 
 "No, I aint." 
 
A DREAMING GIRL AND A PRAIRIE KNIGHT. 25 
 
 The man laughed exasperatingly. 
 
 " Your pap give you to me." 
 
 Her ire was now thoroughly roused. 
 
 "Go away!" she cried, stamping her feet. "I 
 aint got any pap, and you are tellin' lies." 
 
 " No I aint, and you'll be glad on't too, when you 
 come to keep house for me in my little shanty. I'm a 
 good marksman, and you'll have plenty of prairie 
 birds to cook. It'll be mighty fine." 
 
 4 'But I aint, I aint," protested Nana. 
 
 "Yes you air oh, no you aint, kid, if you're goin' 
 to look so glum about it not till the time comes any- 
 way. What air you a doin' of here ? ' ' 
 
 " None of your business. I've lost my ducks, and 
 they have sent me out to hunt ' em up. ' ' 
 
 11 Let 'em alone and they'll come home, a waggin' 
 their tails behind 'em," chuckled Slocum. 
 
 * ' Shall I find your birds for you ? " he inquired 
 presently. " P 11 warrant I can. ' ' 
 
 He was off without delay, but returned shortly with 
 a string of game over his arm, which he flung at her 
 feet. 
 
 ( * There you air. They went out in the mornin' , 
 I'll warrant, as noisy and gossipy as a lot o' gals, but 
 they come back as quiet a pack o' fowl as I ever see. ' ' 
 
 Nana looked at them ruefully. 
 
 "I'll make it all right with the old man and old 
 woman," suggested Slocum. 
 
 Still Nana did not speak. She kept gazing at the 
 mute, inglorious birds. 
 
26 LUCKY. 
 
 * ' What time will you go home ? ' ' questioned the 
 man. 
 
 1 ' At dinner time, ' ' and her hungry eyes wandered 
 towards the sun. 
 
 "I'll be there," said Slocum, and walked away. 
 ****** 
 
 ' ' What, Nana Meers ! The ducks are dead ! 
 What can you mean ? ' ' exclaimed Mrs. Royster when 
 Nana had imparted the news to her. 
 
 " They are dead, that's all," said Nana doggedly. 
 * ' Give me my dinner. ' ' 
 
 1 ' You shall never have another bite, you ' ' 
 
 ' ' Yes, she shall too, ' ' interposed a voice, the voice 
 of Joe Slocum. He had come up unperceived by 
 both Mrs. Royster and the girl. 
 
 " Here, I'll pay for the birds. I shot 'em. Give 
 the gal her dinner. Air you goin' to ? " 
 
 "Yes, but I'll lick her first!" cried the woman, 
 making a spring at Nana. 
 
 1 ' Not if I know it, ' ' answered the man, placing 
 himself in front of the child. 
 
 Mrs. Royster looked thunder clouds at the in- 
 truder. 
 
 "I'd like to know what business it is of yours, Joe 
 Slocum," she ejaculated fiercely. " Don't I house 
 and keep her ? ' ' 
 
 ' ' Yes, ' ' said Slocum impressively drawing close to 
 his angry neighbor, "but I'll tell you what; the 
 gal's mine. You give her to me, and she's mine, 
 and I aint goin' to have her sp'iled by thrashin' nor 
 starvin' neither. You jest put that in your pipe." 
 
A DREAMING GIRL AND A PRAIRIE KNIGHT. 27 
 
 Mrs. Royster was somewhat appeased, but muttered 
 something about encouraging the young imp in her 
 bad ways. 
 
 "See here, chick," said Slocum, turning to Nana, 
 "if this here woman don't treat you well, you jest 
 come to me. Now, will you ? ' ' 
 
 Nana did something quite unexpected by both 
 enemy and friend. She turned upon the good Sa- 
 maritan with, 
 
 "No, I won't! Not if she beats me into the 
 ground, I won't not if she starves me dead! " 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 FOLK LORE AND THE NEW NEIGHBORS. 
 
 YES, I know, or I think I do." 
 The speaker was Lund. Nana had just told 
 him of her interview with Joe Slocum. 
 
 "Well?" said the girl impatiently, as the boy 
 paused a moment studying the proceedings of a 
 swarm of ants that were bustling about a hill at his 
 feet. 
 
 ' ' Well, ' ' continued Lund thoughtfully, ' ' it was the 
 day I was sick and couldn't herd. Joe Slocum came 
 over to see about ridin' to town with Royster next 
 time he went with a load of cheese, and I heard them 
 talkin'. I was hidin' under the big vat in the cheese 
 house for fear some one would find me and set me to 
 work, and I heard Royster tell old Slocum that as 
 soon as you were big enough, Slocum could pay Roy- 
 ster three-hundred-dollars for your keep, and marry 
 you. Then they shook hands, and took a drink out 
 of the bottle that Royster keeps under a big canister 
 in the cheese house." 
 
 ' ' Did they say any more ? ' ' 
 
 ' ' No. Just then I had to sneeze, and Slocum come 
 and pulled me out from under the vat. But Royster 
 said 'don't be afeard of the boy. He won't blab.' 
 And he winked and put his front finger on his fore- 
 head." 
 
FOLK LORE AND THE NEW NEIGHBORS. 2Q 
 
 " Well/' said Nana firmly, "I think I see myselt 
 marryin' Joe Slocum." 
 
 " Won't you have to?" 
 
 Nana threw up her chin, and answered by repeat- 
 ing the old, iron-clad adage of the bullwhackers, 
 " We don't have to do anything but die." 
 
 " Oh, Nane! Such a girl! I wonder if you really 
 be crazy. Half the people say you be. ' ' 
 
 " Pooh! They're crazy themselves. It's all be- 
 cause I take my own part. Now you, Lund, you are 
 good; you never sass or talk back, and you're never 
 called crazy. But between you and me," she went 
 on assuringly, "you are the craziest of the two." 
 
 Lund was half convinced. 
 
 "But it's an awful thing to die," he hesitated at 
 length. 
 
 " Yes, for bad folks. For good ones it's nice." 
 
 ' ' But you ain' t good. Everybody says you ain' t. ' ' 
 
 "Maybe I ain't. I don't care if I ain't. The 
 Lord knows what I have to put up with. He'll ex- 
 cuse me." 
 
 1 ' Maybe he will, ' ' said Lund with a sigh of relief, 
 "I hope he will." 
 
 " What's this, my sharpies ? " called a cheery voice 
 hard by. Both children started at the sound. 
 
 *' I've been laying for prairie chickens, but your 
 gabble scares them all away," the stranger went on. 
 " So you're discussing theology, are you ? " 
 
 " No, we're talkin' about dyin'," said Lund. 
 
 ' ' Your conversation savored of the science which I 
 
30 LUCKY. 
 
 name. Now, you leave all these vexing questions to 
 me, for I have a diploma at home, three feet square, 
 which proves that I'm fully capable of deciding." 
 He was proud of his superior knowledge and experi- 
 ence, this handsome, dashing fellow, who stood nearly 
 six feet in his short jacket, high boots, and corduroy 
 trousers. You could see it in his entire bearing, but 
 more especially in the arrogant, backward tilt of his 
 broad sombrero, which disclosed to view an open, 
 genial brow over which the short, brown curls tumbled 
 in a very becoming confusion. He had a merry hazel 
 eye and large, mobile lips forever threatening to smile, 
 but seldom getting beyond the threat. He carried a 
 gun, game bag, and powder horn. 
 
 His name was George Fielding, but he was commonly 
 called ' ' Lucky, ' ' for it was his favorite boast that life 
 for him was one jolly round of gayety. He never 
 undertook anything which he failed to accomplish, was 
 accustomed to the admiration which success and good 
 looks are sure to bring and was somewhat spoiled by 
 always having had his own way. He possessed one 
 glaring fault, a strange, unconquerable disposition to 
 pervert the truth, to lie with so sober a front that even 
 the most penetrating reader of character would have 
 sworn he spoke gospel facts. His friends attributed it 
 to a vivid imagination, and he was so good natured 
 withal, that his grave failing was in the main, over, 
 looked. 
 
 ' ' Theology, ' ' he went on to explain to the two 
 wondering innocents, ' ' that means the science of 
 
FOLK LORE AND THE NEW NEIGHBORS. 31 
 
 religion. The real thing and the science must not be 
 confounded. I know plenty of people who have 
 theology by the headful, without a speck of religion 
 in their hearts. I knew a woman once who could 
 talk doctrine by the hour, tell you to a T how many 
 rods you'd strayed from the path of righteousness, 
 had measured the gate of heaven with a tape line, and 
 knew how many steps exactly there were to the golden 
 stair. Why, any one would have supposed by the 
 way she talked that she had even tested the tempera- 
 ture of the river Jordan. She always hollered in 
 meeting. Young folks of the worldly sort used to go 
 for miles to hear her holler. And what do you sup- 
 pose she did, one day ? She beat her horse to death 
 for eating a turnip or two out of her cart. She had 
 theology. Now I'll tell you another story of a woman 
 who had religion. You couldn't have told she had 
 anything by her looks or conversation. People 
 thought her very bad because she never professed in 
 public. But somehow, wherever a kind word or a 
 helping hand was needed that woman was there, first 
 of all to put her shoulder to the wheel. She gave all 
 the cabbages and turnips she could spare to the poor, 
 and I've no doubt, would have gone hungry herself 
 rather than to see anyone suffer. She had a temper 
 of her own too. Yet when she felt cross and wicked, 
 she never laid the blame at the poor, much belied old 
 devil's door, but took a good dose of herbs to tone up 
 her system, smiled and went on as before. When 
 she died, her neighbors shook their heads. She was 
 
32 LUCKY. 
 
 such a good soul, it was too bad she had never pro- 
 fessed, they said. Then they sighed and agreed to 
 leave her in the hands of the the Lord, to dispose of 
 according to His own mercy, since they could not help 
 themselves." 
 
 " Of course the Lord knew," said Lund gravely. 
 
 " That he did, my hearty! He knew! " 
 
 The young man was beginning to glow with his 
 favorite theme. 
 
 " What brought sin into the world? " asked Nana. 
 " Royster always says it was women, when he's mad 
 at Mis' Royster." 
 
 ''There's another story only half told. My friend, 
 the editor of the Elk Bend Sharpshooter says the 
 secret of good composition is in the suggesting of 
 more than you really say. Now, any thoughtful 
 person could plainly see that Adam's mouth was 
 watering for that apple all the while, but he didn't dare 
 touch it. It was the same spirit which prompts fool- 
 ishly fond wives of to-day to sneak half the dainties 
 from their own plate to that of their husband, which 
 made Eve pick the fruit. She just couldn' t bear to 
 see his mouth water, and for that she's blamed to this 
 day. I always felt lenient towards Eve for another 
 reason. She just gave him plain unvarnished apple, 
 fresh from the tree. If she'd gone and pealed it, and 
 mixed up some crust, and baked it, and come to her 
 lord and master with a specimen of young house- 
 keeper's pie in her hand, I wouldn't venture to take 
 her part. Eve was more sensible than ungrateful man 
 gives her credit for." 
 
FOLK LORE AND THE NEW NEIGHBORS. 33 
 
 ' ' Mis' Roystcr says the devil is seekin' to devour 
 all such youngsters as me," suggested Nana. 
 
 "Pshaw! You're not at all suitable to the old 
 fellow's taste." 
 
 " She said he'd roast me over a fire. Has he got a 
 fire?" 
 
 " Yes, of course. Raw meat isn't good eating." 
 
 " Where do they get their kindlin's ? " 
 
 "Why bless you, right here where we get ours. 
 They know a thing or two, and one thing they know 
 is that dried sunflower stalks are the very best kindling 
 in the world. Why, I've seen them skylarking about 
 on this very dairy farm, whisking their tails to keep 
 off the flies, and gathering sunflowers by the armful. 
 They are all black, my children, with long hair and 
 horns. I fell in with the captain of the band one day, 
 and we sat down and had quite a chat." 
 
 "Wasn't you afraid?" 
 
 " No, the heart of the virtuous knows no fear." 
 
 "Why didn't I ever see him? I always pull my 
 sunbonnet over my ears and eyes, and run as fast as I 
 can whenever I pass a cornfield, for Bub Royster says 
 he's apt to rush out and catch me any day." 
 
 " Ho! He's too much of a gentleman to do that. 
 He'll leave sneaking ways to Bub Royster and his 
 like. In fact he said as much to me. And moreover, 
 he said, 'Mr. Fielding,' he always addressed me as 
 Mr., he was so polite; 'Mr. Fielding,' said he, 'I 
 want to tell you something in strict confidence. I 
 have an eye to business though I do seem gay and 
 
34 LUCKY. 
 
 festive now. I've been thinking pretty hard about 
 that Royster family up there on the dairy farm. I 
 have been wondering for a long time if I hadn' t better 
 bag them, but I can't make up my mind. The fact 
 is, Mr. Fielding, (do not mention it, for if it should 
 get abroad 'twould ruin my reputation forever,) I am 
 half afraid of them, they are so much worse than I 
 am.' And the father of darkness actually blushed 
 blushed, mind you, and hid his face in his bandana." 
 
 While he was finishing his peculiar little tale, a 
 young lady mounted on a gentle looking mustang 
 rode up and joined the company. So engrossed were 
 Lucky and the children that they became aware of her 
 presence only when she spoke. 
 
 "My dear Lucky! What nonsense to be giving 
 those poor, credulous children! " 
 
 Lucky looked half guilty, half amused. Taking 
 off his hat he bowed to the beautiful creature and 
 muttered something about stating the case as it stood. 
 
 "As it stands in your imagination," was the gay 
 reply. " Don't mind him, my dears, he isn't truthful. 
 He is a bad boy. He ran away from home this 
 morning to escape a disagreeable duty, and I'll tell 
 you about it. One day he hired to a certain Mr. 
 Slocum to do some breaking, but my fastidious 
 brother, not liking that gentleman's cooking I 
 believe he is his own housekeeper played hooky, and 
 vowed he'd never go back again. This morning as 
 his employer came to see about it, the brave young 
 man shouldered his gun, and escaped through the 
 
FOLK LORE AND THE NEW NEIGHBORS. 35 
 
 back window as Mr. S. entered the front door. Now 
 shame him." 
 
 "I'm not to blame now, am I?" said Lucky. 
 " Everybody knows that Slocum first kneads his bread, 
 then sets it under the stove for the pussy cat to sleep 
 in. Why, when the bread comes upon the table it is 
 furnished with such a nice set of furs that it is hard to 
 tell where cat leaves off and bread begins." 
 
 " I don't believe you, Lucky," said his sister. 
 
 * ' Can' t help it. Have given you the gospel truth 
 as did the prophets before me, and if you don't accept 
 it 'tisn't my fault. I've done my duty." 
 
 Both Miss Fielding and her brother laughed heartily 
 at this, and Lund could not help smiling from sympathy. 
 But Nana's countenance did not change. 
 
 " Why so sober, little one ? " asked the lady. 
 
 ' ' She is thinking of the Great Terrible, ' ' said 
 Lucky. 
 
 ' ' Come, cheer up, you little wild elfin. There is 
 not a word of truth in these stories." 
 
 "Pooh! I don't care for that," returned Nana, 
 "I've things to bother me that no one knows." 
 
 Lucky and his sister smiled again, thinking this 
 speech caught from her elders. 
 
 ' ' What is the trouble, little witch ? Has your doll 
 broken its head ?' ' asked Miss Fielding. 
 
 " I don't have a doll," answered Nana. 
 
 " Indeed ! wouldn't you like to have one?" 
 
 " No, I'd rather have a almanick." 
 
 ' ' Why ? ' ' again asked the young lady wonderingly. 
 
36 LUCKY. 
 
 " Because it is nice to read." 
 
 ' * Then you can read ? ' ' 
 
 " Yes. I went to school a term once." 
 
 " And you love to read ? " 
 
 " I should say so. It's my only fun. But I have 
 to hide to do it." 
 
 Having promised to bring the child a whole armful 
 of story books at no late date, Miss Fielding and her 
 brother turned to go. 
 
 * ' What an odd child, ' ' mused Miss Fielding. 
 
 ' ' A regular sprite, ' ' said Lucky. ' ' Her name is 
 Nana, the boy tells me; I've seen him often before, 
 you know. By the way, that chap will inherit the 
 earth some day six feet of it. He's as blindly meek 
 as an ox. Isn't Nana an odd name for a girl brought 
 up by the Roysters ? ' ' 
 
 "Yes, so soft and refined. She's a remarkably 
 graceful child and more than pretty. They ought to 
 be proud of her. ' ' 
 
 "Why bless you she's not a Royster ! She's a 
 child they're just keeping for some reason or other. 
 How her eyes did open when I told her I had a 
 personal acquaintance with old Hornie ! A Royster 
 wouldn't have flinched they are distant connections 
 of his, you know. Bub is a family name. It's 
 shortened from Beelzebub." 
 
 ' ' Lucky, do learn to curb your imagination a trifle 
 at least. Do you know, you are getting quite a 
 reputation in the settlement for that sort of thing ?' ' 
 
 "What ! Wouldst rob thy gentle brother of his 
 only joy ? " 
 
FOLK LORE AND THE NEW NEIGHBORS. 37 
 
 " Nonsense !" 
 
 " Not at all. I like to lie. I believe I have a 
 talent for it. We must cultivate our talents. Every- 
 body says we must." 
 
 11 Well, the consequences be upon your own head." 
 
 " I have often thought of reforming. I will reform, 
 sis, now see if I don't, just to please you. But it is a 
 great sacrifice. You remember the story of the sick 
 lady who died when her looking-glass was broken, 
 because it was all she had to live on. Now what if ' ' 
 
 " Well, there's oats in the bin worth thirty dollars, 
 and we can have a pretty respectable funeral in these 
 parts for that amount. Hadn't we better step up a 
 bit? It is almost noon." 
 
 When the Fieldings had passed out of sight, Lund 
 and Nana, who had been watching them eagerly, 
 turned and looked at each other. 
 
 " The new neighbors," said Nana. 
 
 " Yes, over in the new house. Mis' Royster says 
 they're awfully stuck up. I've seen the feller before, 
 but not the girl. They've only been here two months. 
 Slip's the one somebody they think it was Bub 
 Royster tried to rob one night when she was ridin' 
 home a horseback." 
 
 ' ' I remember, ' ' said Nana. 
 
 " She's as pretty as a picture," said Lund. " But 
 look, Nane, at them cows away off there. Good-bye." 
 
 Lund mounted his horse, which was grazing quietly 
 near, and was gone. 
 
 Nana went back to the pools where her ducks were 
 
38 LUCKY. 
 
 sporting, to dream away the remaining hours of the 
 forenoon. Her mind was full of the new neighbors. 
 She wondered when she would see them again, and 
 what they would say to her. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 BUB AND ROSE. 
 
 of Royster's steers is mired !" shouted Joe 
 Slocum one chilly spring day, darting into 
 the yard of Farmer Dolby on his wiry little mustang. 
 
 " Sakes alive !" exclaimed a rosy young girl, who 
 stood in front of the house, scattering crumbs of corn 
 bread to a crowd of noisy fowls which surrounded her. 
 ' ' How did it happen ? Ma, hear that ! One of 
 Royster's steers is mired ! Get your bonnet, and come 
 quick !" 
 
 ' ' The men folks aint to home, ' ' said Mrs. Dolby, 
 bustling out upon the scene with a shawl and hood in 
 her hand. "They have gone to mill, but me and 
 Rose will go over. ' ' 
 
 ' ' So the men folks aint to home. Then I must 
 look otherwheres for help. But you and Rose go on 
 as you say. Down at the North Pond, mind you. 
 Mis' Royster and Mis' Blake and the gals be all there. 
 Bub and his pa be there too, I guess." This with a 
 side glance at Rose. 
 
 The miring of an animal was quite a social event in 
 these regions. It was all that balls, receptions, and 
 races are to their city cousins. So, when Mrs. Dolby 
 and her daughter arrived at the pond, they found a 
 very sociable group gathered on its banks. I do not 
 
40 LUCKY. 
 
 mean to say they enjoyed the discomfort of the poor 
 brute who stood knee deep in the soft mud, from which 
 he could not extricate himself ; but when such circum- 
 stances occurred, they made the best of them. 
 
 <f Them awful sink holes !" exclaimed Rose Dolby. 
 Her gladness of the event which was to bring her in 
 contact with the one she admired above all others, did 
 not obliterate her pity for the unfortunate animal. Her 
 cheeks burned with a ruddy glow, and her pretty lids 
 were becomingly dewy, when Bub arrived. She was 
 the first object his eyes fell upon, and his rough heart 
 gave a quick, jerky thump under his brown ducking 
 jacket. No matter how cruel and unrelenting a man 
 may be, he likes a soft-hearted woman ; and Rose was 
 a perfect picture of sweet sympathy. 
 
 Bub's face gave no sign as he looked at Rose. He 
 thought sentiment weak, and his highest ambition was 
 to be considered strong. So he nodded a careless 
 good morning to the girl he loved; then, divesting 
 himself of shoes and stockings, waded out into the 
 water, and proceeded to fasten the ends of an im- 
 promptu pulley round the body of the ox, and throw 
 a blanket over its quaking hulk. 
 
 " Look out for sink holes, Bub! " shouted the crowd 
 on the bank. 
 
 " Yep," responded Bub with a nonchalant shrug. 
 
 Rose thought how brave and strong her lover looked, 
 and glowed with fond pride. Her heart yearned to- 
 wards him ; but he was so cold, so indifferent. Would 
 he never change ? She was certain that she should 
 
never 
 
 BUB AND ROSE. 41 
 
 never marry if he did not, but remain true to him 
 until death. Rose Dolby's was a firm, loyal heart. 
 Bub was not worthy of such pure and gentle affection; 
 but worth does not always command love, and the 
 unworthy are often thrice blessed in this respect. 
 
 " Poor thing! See it shake! " cried a woman in a 
 cracked, disagreeable voice, husky with a cold. 
 
 Rose hid her face in her mother's shawl to shut out 
 the sight of the quivering animal. There was a clank 
 of chains and a shout from Bub. He had come ashore 
 and was fastening the other end of the pulley to a pair 
 of whiffietrees. This task was done, the horses were 
 started up, and the ox with groans and struggles, was 
 slowly dragged through the sticky mud and up the 
 steep bank. 
 
 Mrs. Royster's grim features relaxed a trifle when 
 she saw the wet, bedraggled condition of her son. 
 
 " Go to the house and dry your clothes, child," she 
 advised in tones that were almost caressing. 
 
 41 Oh bother! " Bub returned savagely shaking off 
 the hand she laid on his arm. He felt that Rose was 
 looking, and he must not display any unmanly weak- 
 ness. ''I've got to run him up and down once or 
 twice, or he'll die. It's only half to get him out." 
 
 1 ' But you are wet through. Do go," pleaded Rose 
 softly in his ear. " You' 11 catch your death of cold." 
 
 Bub blushed crimson, and his heart beat wildly 
 again. Her interest in his welfare was very sweet to 
 him, but he would not for the world have shown it. 
 With a harsh, cynical laugh that sent poor Rose 
 
42 LUCKY. 
 
 trembling and disconsolate back to her mother's side, 
 he muttered something about women's being such 
 geese, and was off at the heels of the martyred ox. 
 
 The rest of the party adjourned to the house to 
 drink tea, and gossip for the remainder of the day. 
 Rose was in ecstacy. To be near Bub for a space of 
 five hours was a rare privilege; and after he had shown 
 himself so heroic too! Love exaggerates virtue in the 
 beloved. Rose was ready to declare in her heart that 
 Bub was equal to any hero named in history. 
 
 Of course, she must be contented to see and admire 
 at a distance, for he would scarcely look at her. He 
 would play checkers with the men, and talk about 
 pigs and crops. But what matter ? She would be 
 near him, she could hear his voice, every slide and 
 trick of which she knew and loved; she could see the 
 motions of his head as it nodded or shook under his 
 sombrero. How cunning was that movement of the 
 head peculiar to him alone, and how gracefully he spat 
 during the lapses in conversation ! No other man spat 
 like that. 
 
 Mrs. Royster came up to introduce Mrs. Blake. 
 Rose bowed absently. Her thoughts were all on Bub. 
 
 "I know Miss Dolby," said Mrs. Blake. "She 
 got a guinea of me once." 
 
 " Oh, did you know her ? I had no idee you was 
 acquainted," said Mrs. Royster. 
 
 " How is the guinea ? " Mrs. Blake asked. 
 
 "Pretty well, thank that is," stammered Rose, 
 "he's dead." 
 
BUB AND ROSE. 43 
 
 (< Oh! " gasped Mrs. Blake with as much feeling as 
 ordinary persons display on hearing of the decease of 
 an acquaintance. " Is that so ? How did it happen ? 
 Do tell." 
 
 1 ' I think the pigs no, no, I guess a chunk of drift- 
 wood fell on him." 
 
 ' ' That Dolby girl is slow, aint she? " remarked Mrs. 
 Blake to Mrs. Royster later on. 
 
 " Slow! Law, no! As bright and likely a girl as 
 you ever met. She can wash and iron and sew beauti- 
 ful, and she makes the best bread and butter in the 
 neighborhood. Besides, she'll have money one of 
 these days. I think my Bub's fond of her," and Mrs. 
 Royster folded her arms and smiled significantly. 
 
 After dinner, the men went out to inspect a new 
 blooded calf that Mr. Royster had just bought, while 
 the women washed the dishes and swept. Rose Dolby, 
 catching sight of Nana serenely discussing a basin of 
 corn bread and milk in a corner, sat down by the child, 
 and began to talk. This was the only society a full 
 heart like hers could trust. She was eager to utter the 
 name of her beloved, and Nana she thought, was too 
 young to guess her secret from her conversation. She 
 plied the child with questions about Mrs. Royster, the 
 farm and its appointments; then, tremblingly, she 
 spoke of Bub. Bub what a strong, manly name! 
 How expressive of the nobility of him who bore it! 
 Rose had whispered it again and again to herself, but 
 to speak it aloud, and listen to the music of it was 
 pleasure unmeasureable. 
 
44 LUCKY. 
 
 " Did you see your brother, Bub, when he waded 
 out into the deep, cold wa' er ? " queried Rose. ' ' I 
 was so afraid he'd slip and fall." 
 
 Nana laughed. That any one should care if mis- 
 fortune did come to Bub was ludicrous in the extreme. 
 She should have been delighted. 
 
 " He aint my brother," was her laconic reply. 
 
 " But you love him just as if he were, don't you ? " 
 
 " No, I don't. Nobody loves Bub Royster." 
 
 Rose gave a little start. She was about to protest 
 that she did most truly, but recollected herself in time 
 to check her folly. 
 
 " He aint so nice as Lucky Fielding," Nana went 
 on. 
 
 " Lucky Fielding! Why he lies and lies and lies. 
 Bub don't." 
 
 " Maybe he don't. But I like Lucky. He's good." 
 
 4 'Bub don't like him." 
 
 " I don't care. If he don't he needn't." 
 
 " But you ought to care. You ought to like Bub. 
 Bub's folks give you a home and clothes to wear and 
 things to eat." 
 
 Rose, as many others so often do, had forgotten 
 that love is not a negotiable commodity. 
 
 " But Lucky gives me books," said Nana. 
 
 " Books! Would you rather have books than a 
 home?" 
 
 Nana thought a moment, then replied, 
 
 " I couldn't get along without them books. No I 
 couldn't." 
 
BUB AND ROSE. 45 
 
 u Do you ever expect to fall in love, Nana ? ' ' 
 
 Nana nodded promptly. The child had her dreams 
 of the inevitable prince, who would awaken her slum- 
 bering heart with a kiss. 
 
 " Then, your lover will be brave like my like Bub, 
 and handsome too like him." 
 
 " No, I'm goin' to marry a man like the prince in 
 the Cinderella book Lucky gave me or else Lucky 
 himself." 
 
 Thus the conversation continued till Mrs. Royster 
 seeing Nana idle, a thing she could not bear, sent the 
 child out to gather in chips. 
 
 " The little imp has been a worryin' of you," she said 
 to Rose. 
 
 "No, no," said Rose who was sincerely sorry that 
 she was gone, "she's a nice child. I am real fond of 
 her." 
 
 ' ' She don' t improve on acquaintance, ' ' said Mrs. 
 Royster sourly. "Since she's got in with them 
 Fieldin's, she's a good deal worse than she used 
 to be." 
 
 ' ( How, Mrs. Royster ? I heard her say she liked 
 the Fieldings." 
 
 "Well, they're a bad, stuck up set. They put her 
 up to all kinds of tricks and spoil her. They would 
 Lund, too, only he's slow. They hate Bub." 
 
 " I used to like them myself," said the girl, but I'd 
 no idea they was that kind of folks. I hate them 
 now." 
 
 Mrs. Royster went back to her work with a satisfied 
 
46 LUCKY. 
 
 smile. It was pleasant to have the prospective heiress 
 agree with her so readily. 
 
 The real cause of the feud between Royster and 
 Fielding was this: Miss Fielding, who taught school 
 in an adjoining district, was riding home one evening 
 just at dusk, with the wages for a month's work in her 
 pocket. As she passed a dense corn-field a man with 
 a handkerchief over his face, darted out, and catching 
 her bridle, demanded the money she carried. The 
 brave girl neither screamed nor fainted, but to the 
 utter surprise of the agressor, braced herself in her 
 saddle, and laid her whip about his head in so vigor- 
 ous a manner, that he soon relinquished his hold and 
 slunk back under the shelter of the corn. The next 
 day, Bub Royster had appeared with face strangely 
 scarred and battered. On being questioned concern- 
 ing his mishap, he became red and angry, and refused 
 to answer. This had led all to suppose that he was 
 the culprit, and friendly relations between the two 
 families at once ceased. 
 
 Evening came. The guests had departed at last, 
 the farm hands had retired, and the Roysters, mother 
 and son, were alone together, save for Nana, who was 
 trying to read by the dim light of a green cottonwood 
 fire. 
 
 "See here, young one," growled Bub, "You'd 
 better go to bed. You're not worth your salt since 
 the Fielding's commenced to lend you books. I'll 
 pitch them into the fire first thing you know. ' ' 
 
 " Don't you dare! " cried Nana glowering upon him. 
 
 11 Don't talk that way to me." 
 
BUB AND ROSE. 47 
 
 " I'll do as I please. I'm not the Dolby girl. She 
 thinks your an angel, but I don't." 
 
 Bub was mollified. His tones softened. 
 
 1 * How do you know she thinks it ? " 
 
 "Oh, she's always talking about you; says your 
 brave and strong and handsome. Guess her eyesight 
 ain't very good." 
 
 With this taunt Nana gathered up her books and 
 marched scornfully away. 
 
 The remaining two looked at each other for a 
 moment. Each glowed with pleasure, the one, how- 
 ever, somewhat shamefacedly. At length, the mother 
 broke the silence. 
 
 ' ' There, Bub Royster, if you let the grass grow 
 under your feet before you've asked her, you're a 
 coward and a fool. She'll have money, some day, 
 and she'll be a tip-top manager." 
 
 Bub growled out something about not wanting to 
 be saddled with a wife, but secretely resolved to act 
 upon her advice. 
 
 A few days later an opportunity presented itself, 
 and the deed was done. Bub, the brave, the hand- 
 some, the manly was accepted with tears of love and 
 gratitude. 
 
 Bub was amazed. 
 
 " Don't see what you're cryin' about," he observed 
 sheepishly. 
 
 "Oh, Bub, I am so ha-ha-happy!" sobbed Rose 
 throwing herself upon his breast. 
 
 Bub swore inwardly and wished he was a thousand 
 
48 LUCKY. 
 
 miles away; Rose was a nice girl and was going to 
 have money, but why need she make such a fool of 
 herself? 
 
 " Kiss me," gasped the sweet tearful bride- elect 
 clinging to him with moist red lips upturned. 
 
 "Lord, what next?" was the inward comment of 
 the lover who stood awkwardly, hands in pockets, 
 looking down upon her, but never offering to bestow 
 the longed for caress. 
 
 "Bub, Bub," she pleaded frantically, "why don't 
 you kiss me ? Engaged folks always kiss. ' ' 
 
 "The deuce, they do!" muttered Bub under his 
 breath; but what could he do? Rose hung upon his 
 neck, her lips were within an inch of his, and her eyes 
 were full of mingled beseeching and perplexity. 
 
 Bub struggled with himself a moment, then resolved 
 that since it must be done, it would be better to have 
 it over as soon as possible, and stooping gingerly to 
 the pleading lips, he kissed them, resuming his former 
 position with the air of a man who had done his duty 
 and found it not so bad after all. 
 
 Yes, Rose was a nice little girl. He felt quite satis- 
 fied with himself and her, and actually gave her plump 
 little hand an approving squeeze, to which she re- 
 sponded with smiles and tears commingled, nestling 
 close to his side meanwhile, and hiding her blushes in 
 his waist coat. 
 
 But what have philosophers said about the course of 
 true love ? Theirs did not run more smoothly than the 
 rest. Mr. Dolby was willing to neighbor with ths 
 
BUB AND ROSE. 49 
 
 Roysters, buy of them, sell to them, be civil to them 
 at all times, but when it came to a question of family 
 alliance, he firmly drew the line. Rose should never 
 marry Bub with his consent. He had no use for the 
 fellow. 
 
 Mr. Dolby was a good father, and Rose was a dutiful 
 daughter; so she informed her betrothed that they must 
 wait. 
 
 "Try to show him your worth, Bub," was her 
 womanly advice. 
 
 "He won't give in," was Bub's reply. "We'll 
 have to wait till he dies, and he's liable to outlive us 
 both." 
 
 "Then, we won't be married at all," said Rose with 
 dignity. " I must mind my father." 
 
 Strangely enough Bub did not become angry at the 
 firm stand Rose had taken. Now that she stood a 
 little beyond his reach, he began to prize her more, 
 and resolved to wait for her, come what might. This 
 resolution was probably the noblest sentiment that had 
 ever stirred his heart. It was Bub's first step towards 
 real manhood. 
 
 A strange thing had occurred. Mrs. Royster had 
 seen a ghost. The appearance, she said, was that of 
 a man, dressed in black broadcloth, riding in a phaeton, 
 drawn by a white horse. Had it simply passed and 
 gone on its way, she would not have thought it odd in 
 the least, but she saw it driving by again and again, 
 with its eyes fixed intentely on the house. 
 
5O LUCKY. 
 
 Many were the conjectures concerning the mysterious 
 occupant of the phaeton. The farm hands were of the 
 opinion that Mrs. Royster had doubled the strength of 
 her habitual nightcap, and Lucky Fielding was heard 
 to remark irreverently that any ghost who would hang 
 around the Royster premises, when he might be 
 haunting a better place with very little inconvenience 
 to himself, showed pretty poor taste, and was not 
 deserving of an honest man's faith. 
 
 But ghost or not, the next evening, Mr. Royster lay 
 on a bed of sickness, suddenly and mysteriously stricken 
 down. The doctor was summoned, but came too late. 
 
 * ' Mother Bub, ' ' gasped the dying man. ' ' Mother 
 Bub I'm goin' F-mgoin' shore. I've been a bad 
 man, but I want you to do better. I want you to 
 make it all right with little Nane." 
 
 With these words, he died. The doctor took his 
 fingers from the still pulse, named the disease to 
 eager ihquirers, and went home. Those who looked, 
 declared afterwards that he rode in a phaeton and drove 
 a white horse. This explained to their minds quite 
 satisfactorily the mystery of the ghost, and every one 
 was frowned down who dared suggest that it only 
 " happened so." 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 AFTER FOUR YEARS. 
 
 "LJULLO, Captain!" 
 
 11 The man who spoke was tall and brawny, 
 with a sharp, though not unkindly eye. He was 
 bending over a rude fire by the roadside, and the light 
 fell upon his shaggy, unkempt hair and rough, 
 travel-stained garments, revealing a story that one could 
 read at a glance. His lot, notwithstanding his rollicking 
 songs about the freedom and joy of a teamster's life, 
 was not one of mild sunshine. Scorching heat, dust 
 storms, rains, long prayed for and cursed for coming, 
 had for many years had their way with this broad 
 shouldered, burly king of the road. The voice of the 
 man was in keeping with his appearance, deep, vital, 
 and with a ring of good fellowship in it that Lund could 
 not resist. 
 
 " Hullo, Captain ! What do you know ?" 
 
 It was the time-honored greeting of the teamster. 
 Lund responded half-heartedly, as he pulled his 
 sombrero further over his eyes, and sat down upon the 
 grass. He had grown to be a tall young man. His 
 limbs were lank and bony, and a deep shade of 
 melancholy had settled upon his face. 
 
 The teamster placed a soot- covered coffee-pot over 
 the fire, then turned to fish out from a conglomeration 
 
52 LUCKY. 
 
 of traps, a small griddle which soon took its place 
 beside the coffee-pot. 
 
 1 ' Get out, Shep !' ' he cried to the dog at his heels, 
 which was sniffing at a basin of pancake batter standing 
 on the ground. * ' Get out, I say ! Here, stranger, 
 come closer to the light. I want to look at you. 
 What do you know, anyway ? Give us the news. ' ' 
 
 Lund dragged his awkward body forward in a 
 spiritless manner, and seated himself anew. His 
 attitude was one of utter despondence. He sat very 
 still, watching with dull interest his new acquaintance 
 spreading pancake batter over the smoking hot griddle. 
 
 Far off on either side stretched the rolling prairie, 
 the lonely monotony of which was unrelieved except 
 by here and there a grove of cottonwood trees, marking 
 the location of some farm house, or a clump of alders 
 surrounding an isolated pool. The teamster's fire 
 flickered dimly in the twilight. The great, black 
 snake-like road wound away and away to the west ; 
 the wagon stood beside it with the ox yoke leaning 
 against the side, and the oxen grazing hard by. It 
 was a rudely romantic picture. 
 
 The low wailing cry of a whip-poor-will broke the 
 silence. 
 
 " Confound the bird !" the teamster exclaimed. " I 
 wish it'd have the decency to shut up. Makes me feel 
 as if the whole world had turned into a graveyard. Is 
 that what ails you, friend ?' ' 
 
 Lund shook his head. 
 
 "Then what is it? Something's up. Here you, 
 
AFTER FOUR YEARS. 53 
 
 Shep, you ugly man's cur, keep your nose away 
 from them flippers. You'd better tell me. I've helped 
 many a better and many a worse man, I dare say, out 
 of the dumps." 
 
 Lund leaned his head on his hands and the tears 
 rolled down through his gaunt fingers. He was 
 ashamed to shed them, but they must come. 
 
 ' ' See here, now, ' ' said the teamster kindly, ' * you 
 are in a peck o' trouble, and I know'd it as soon as I 
 set eyes on you. But if you won't tell a feller, what 
 can a feller do ? Is it a girl?" 
 
 Lund gave his head another negative twist. 
 
 14 Is it money?" 
 
 The same response. 
 
 "Well, then, I swear I can't guess. You don't look 
 old enough to have a mother-in-law." 
 
 This was said with so comic a quirk of the lips, that 
 Lund's gravity gave way, and he laughed aloud. 
 
 ''That's right! That's what I like to hear! It 
 sounds as if there was hopes of heaven for you in the 
 long run," said the teamster. "Go ahead. I'm a 
 listenin'." 
 
 Thus enticed out of his reticent mood, Lund opened 
 his heart to his newly found friend. He told how he 
 had that morning been derided by Bub Royster, who 
 was out of humor and spoiling for a fuss, and how 
 finally, because he would not reply to the taunts of his 
 tormentor, he had been knocked down with a pitch- 
 fork handle, and after that, had not gone near the 
 house, but had wandered about over the prairie, trying 
 
54 LUCKY. 
 
 to think what was best to do. He did not wish to 
 return, not because of fear but because he disliked liv- 
 ing in continual contention. 
 
 ' * By the old Harry ! ' ' swore the teamster mildly, 
 ' ' I never heard of such a heathen this side of Idaho, 
 or th' other side neither. Look here, my boy, ' ' slap- 
 ping Lund's ragged knee, " don't you be down in the 
 mouth. I'll take you to Omaha with me, and get you 
 the best job o' teamin' that's goin'. My wife' 11 be a 
 sister to you. She'll wash and patch your clothes and 
 do it cheerfully, sir. Here's the chance of your life. 
 Only say the word, and it's a go." 
 
 "I'll think about it, and tell you in the morning," 
 said Lund. 
 
 The teamster's supper was shared with his visitor, 
 and after it was eaten, the man said: 
 
 "Well, you'd better bunk with me to-night. I'm 
 glad of your company. Company is a powerful anec- 
 dote for the blues. Now I'll make the bed, and we'll 
 turn in, for I'm as tired as a nigger." 
 
 The bed was not much to make. There were only 
 a few blankets to spread out on the ground under the 
 wagon. The two retired, and the teamster was soon 
 asleep; but the young man at his side lay awake, watch- 
 ing the smouldering coals of the dying fire, the great, 
 white moon, sailing along in the sky, and the shadows 
 that rested under the little hills. The wide expanse of 
 silent prairie spoke to his heart, telling him a story 
 which he, rough and unlearned as he was, could not 
 have embodied in words. It was his. It had been his 
 
AFTER FOUR YEARS. 55 
 
 throughout all his previous life. Others might hold 
 the right and title to those hills and ravines, but there 
 was something in them which no one could take from 
 him, as long as he chose to retain it. He did not know 
 what it was but he felt its power within him. 
 
 How he loved the loneliness and grandeur! How 
 his spirit sank when he thought of leaving it forever! 
 Ginger, the pony must have a new rider, and the little 
 spiked horn heifer and her companions must find a 
 new friend. 
 
 The grass stirred gently about his bed, the dog 
 snoozed peacefully, dreaming of rabbit hunts, with now 
 and then a soft, delighted bark, a charred stick burned 
 off at one end, and fell with a smothered thud into the 
 bed of gray ashes, and the oxen sighed loudly in their 
 sleep. 
 
 The moon sank out of sight, and still Lund lay 
 awake, under the broad blue of the sky with the little 
 stars looking down at him, thinking of the new life 
 which lay ahead. When he thought of freedom, his 
 heart warmed ; but for that freedom he was paying a 
 price. 
 
 The fire went out, the stars paled, and it grew quite 
 dark. Yet Lund did not sleep. He was still thinking. 
 
 Morning came, breakfast was over, the team was 
 hitched to the wagon, and the driver mounted on his 
 seat. 
 
 ' ' Are you comin' ? " he asked turning to Lund. 
 
 Lund put his foot on the wheel, ready to mount. A 
 vague light shone in his eyes. It was the light of new 
 
56 LUCKY. 
 
 hope mingled with a deep shadow of regret. For a 
 moment he stood irresolute; then, his hand dropped 
 from the side-board like lead, and looking wistfully at 
 the teamster he spoke: 
 
 " I want to go the Lord only knows how I want to 
 go but I cant leave Nane little Nane." 
 
 "Well, I'm sorry," the teamster replied; ''there 
 was the makin' of a man in you. ' ' 
 
 But he had no time to argue the case. He cracked 
 his whip, shouted to his oxen, and the wagon began to 
 move, the dog bounding along ahead. 
 
 Lund stood and looked after the moving team until 
 it was almost out of sight. There was a great lump 
 in his throat, and the ground seemed to reel beneath 
 his feet. 
 
 The wagon had reached the top of the hill. The 
 driver turning round, waved his hat as a parting 
 salute. Lund answered with a feeble gesture of the 
 hand, then turned sorrowfully to go back to the Roy- 
 sters' and take up his cross again. 
 
 " Nana, Nana!" called Mrs. Royster to the girl 
 who was tripping down the path, which led to the north 
 of the house, and was already several yards away. 
 " Nana, where are you goin', child? " 
 
 ' ' To the North Pond to gather sunflowers. ' ' 
 
 " Pshaw! What do you want of them weeds? " 
 
 -I like them." 
 
 * ' Well, the Dolbys have ju3t brought home a new 
 
AFTER FOUR YEARS. 57 
 
 Texas steer, so you'd best be careful. He might get 
 away," warned Mrs. Royster." 
 
 ' ' I am not afraid. " 
 
 ' ' So it seems about other things as well as this. But 
 you'd best listen to them that's older than you. In 
 my time, young folks used to pay some attention to 
 their elders, but it 'pears that time's gone past with 
 some anyway." 
 
 Nana paid little heed to Mrs. Royster' s words of 
 complaint as she no longer feared the woman. She 
 had been treated more kindly since the death of Mr. 
 Royster. Either his dying words or Joe Slocum's 
 threats had borne fruit. She had been well clothed 
 and fed and when one day, she announced her intent- 
 ion of starting to school in the district adjoining, where 
 Miss Fielding taught, no one offered to oppose her. 
 She was now sixteen years of age, and competent to 
 take charge of a school herself. Miss Fielding had 
 found in her a remarkable pupil especially in history 
 and literature. She was beautiful too, as well as bril- 
 liant, but she was not vain. Her training had not been 
 conducive to vanity. 
 
 Mrs. Royster stood with arms akimbo, her eyes 
 bent upon the ground. Suddenly, she raised them, 
 and looking into Nana's face, said in a confidential 
 tone: 
 
 "You don't expect to go past the Fieldin's, do 
 you?" 
 
 "Scarcely." 
 
 "I wouldn't, Nana." 
 
58 LUCKY. 
 
 ' ' Why ? Have they some wild cattle, too ?' ' 
 
 " No, but I wouldn't let my head run upon Lucky 
 Fieldin', if I was you, or appear to be lettin' it neither. 
 He's some years older than you, though he does act 
 like a great boy, and he'll only laugh at you for your 
 pains. Besides, you must remember that though you 
 be so fine, your eddication is all that me and Bub is 
 like ever to give you, as Bub' 11 be marryin' one of 
 these days, and will want what he has, and Lucky 
 Fieldin' is not the man to take up with a penniless girl. ' ' 
 
 Nana blushed, as Mrs. Royster's keen eyes searched 
 her face. 
 
 "You can't trust him, neither," the woman went 
 on. ' ' I' ve heard tell that he' s a reg' lar jilt. The mail 
 carrier told me, and some one told it to him as a 
 pos'tive fact that two summers ago, when he went 
 East, he met a girl that he made love to with all his 
 might, and then left her, and she felt so bad about it 
 that in a month or so after, she died. The mail carrier 
 says that the woman who told him knew a woman who 
 was a great friend of the girl's." 
 
 Mrs. Royster watched Nana out of sight, with some- 
 thing like a smile hovering about her thin lips. She 
 felt that her arrow had struck home, though the girl 
 had given no sign. 
 
 Nana and Lucky since their first meeting had been 
 firm friends. He had read to her, and had told her of 
 that land of dreams lying beyond the line of hills which 
 hid it from her vision, the great world where men were 
 so brave and gallant, and women so bright and beautiful. 
 
AFTER FOUR YEARS. 59 
 
 He had made her long for that world, and sometimes 
 there had crept into her heart along with other dreams, 
 the desire that he might one day take her there. Of 
 late the wish had occurred more frequently, for at times, 
 Mrs. Royster with her nagging, and Bub with his 
 rough ways and uncouth manner, nearly drove her to 
 distraction. It was but natural that she should think 
 of Lucky. He always joined her in her walks when 
 his work permitted, and that was often. He always 
 talked of the things she cared for, and his ways were 
 so different from those of the Roysters. Now, the 
 word? of the woman rankled in her mind. Was Lucky 
 a jilt ? Was he amusing himself with her, thinking 
 easily to gain her love for the mere pastime of it ? At 
 any rate he should see that it was not so easy a matter 
 to do. With this resolution firm in her heart she walked 
 along that bright summer morning till she had reached 
 the North Pond, where the tall sunflowers tossed their 
 haloed faces in thick profusion. 
 
 Instead of gathering her lap full, as had been her 
 intention, she sat down in the shade to think. How 
 would it be best to treat Lucky Fielding when next 
 they met ? She had not been sitting there long, when 
 she heard a low fierce bellow not far away. ' ' The 
 Dolby's steer," was her first thought, and looking up, 
 she saw tearing down the hill, a great angry creature, 
 with wide spreading horns, which he dug into the earth 
 as he bounded on, snorting menacingly. 
 
 He had seen her flight would be worse than 
 useless. She crouched down among the sunflowers to 
 
60 LUCKY. 
 
 await her doom. He was upon her now ; his horns 
 touched the ground not a foot from where she sat, and 
 his great red eyes looked into hers. She sat so still 
 that the animal seemed perplexed, and offered no 
 further demonstrations, but stood with horns still 
 lowered, watching her. Nana felt that it was only a 
 question of a few moments, nevertheless; she began to 
 repeat her prayers mechanically, as she had learned to 
 do when a child, from an evangelist who had held a 
 revival meeting in the school house. 
 
 Presently a rider appeared on the brow of the 
 hill, spurring his horse to its utmost speed. It was 
 Lucky Fielding, and he carried a pitchfork in his 
 hand. He was soon to the rescue. The steer was 
 driven off, and he stood by her side holding her cold 
 hands. 
 
 ' ' My eye ! but you are a plucky one ! Why didn' t 
 you screech out and get killed ?' ' 
 
 Nana drew her hands away and laughed carelessly. 
 Lucky glanced at her with a disapproving look. 
 
 "You can laugh, can you, when you've just come 
 back from death's very door ?" 
 
 Nana scarcely opened her lips in reply ; her words 
 were cold, and only half audible. 
 
 ' ' I knew the beast had strayed, ' ' Lucky went on. 
 ' ' I was working in the field when Rose came running 
 to me with the news. I thought of you in a minute, 
 you are out on the hills so much, and it did not take 
 me long, I tell you, to unhitch and mount Firefly. I 
 left the other horse in the field, but he'll stand. I'll 
 take you home now." 
 
AFTER FOUR YEARS. 6l 
 
 "I'm not at all afraid. I can go alone." 
 
 " And run the risk of meeting Sir Texas again ?" 
 
 " He went another direction." 
 
 "Then, you don't want my company ?" 
 
 "Just as you please." 
 
 " Well, I please to go, for there's no telling whether 
 you'll be safe or not. Then I will ride after the old 
 fellow and see that he's put up." 
 
 They walked along silently. Lucky began to be 
 nettled by Nana's cool demeanor. He cared for the 
 girl, having for some time looked upon her as his own, 
 and thought she understood it. 
 
 "Playing the high and mighty, hey?" he said to 
 himself, as he saw at length that Nana was not at all 
 disposed to converse. "Well, I'll have my game too. 
 I promised sis not to lie any more, but this once I 
 cannot resist. Let me see, what shall I say?" 
 
 Lucky thought a moment, then began. 
 
 " I say, Nana, I've something to tell you. You've 
 always been a good little sister to me, and I feel that I 
 can come to you with all my plans, and receive sympathy 
 and advice. I've been thinking for a long time about 
 getting married. Don't laugh. Every young man 
 thinks of such things. You' 11 promise you won' t laugh 
 if I tell you a secret?" 
 
 Nana promised, with the same coolness of manner. 
 
 "Well, to make short work of it, you know that 
 there are no marriageable young ladies about here ex- 
 cept Rose Dolby, and she persists in becoming an old 
 maid for the sake of his lordship, Bub Royster. You, 
 
62 LUCKY. 
 
 Nana, are as yet only a child, and besides, I have 
 always looked upon you as a sister. Well, I've 
 made up my mind to start to-morrow for the Upper 
 Missouri, partly to shoot teal and partly to get myself 
 a wife. I hear that a lot of girls have lately 
 arrived at Dannerborg, near the rapids, and the fellows 
 are flocking there from all sections. I think I'll go 
 and see if any of 'em suit my fancy. Romantic hey 
 sis?" 
 
 The falsehood was told calmly, soberly, as only 
 Lucky Fielding could tell it. 
 
 " I wish you good luck," Nana answered in a voice 
 not altogether free from sarcasm. ' ' Shall you take time 
 to court her, or just pick her out and marry her off 
 hand?" 
 
 1 * Oh I shall follow the prevailing fashion whatever 
 that may be," Lucky responded. Then he bade her 
 good-bye for they had reached Royster's boundary 
 line over which the Fieldings seldom deigned to step. 
 
 Mrs. Royster met Nana as she came wearily up the 
 path to the house. She noted the girl's tired eyes 
 and languid walk. 
 
 " Where are your sunflowers ? " she asked. 
 
 "I did not think of them," Nana returned. " I 
 have just escaped being killed by Dolby's Texas 
 steer." 
 
 "Law sakes! You don't say! How did it hap- 
 pen?" 
 
 Nana told the story. 
 
 ' ' Lucky Fieldin' drove him away ! ' ' exclaimed 
 
AFTER FOUR YEARS. 63 
 
 Mrs. Royster in consteration. "Well, I s'pose you'll 
 be a marryin' him the next thing, won' t you ? ' ' 
 
 "No," Nana answered, "I shall never marry 
 Lucky Fielding." 
 
 Mrs. Royster' s countenance changed in an instant. 
 
 "Well," she said in a conciliatory voice, "Bub 
 calculates goin' to L this week, with a load of cheese, 
 and he spoke of takin' Rose and you along, and he 
 says as you have been a likely girl, I'd best give you 
 a little money to spend while you're there." With 
 this, Mrs. Royster put a twenty-dollar bill into Nana's 
 hand. 
 
 ' ' I want you to get yourself a new checkered de- 
 lain, and a pair of pretty slippers with shiny buckles 
 like the mail carrier's wife had on the day she rode 
 here with him, and a new hat, and some pocket hand- 
 kechers, and any other little thing you may want. ' ' 
 
 Mrs. Royster went into the house, and Nana stood 
 staring after her, wondering at such benevolence. 
 
 It was very strange. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 IN THE CITY. 
 
 NANA went with the load of cheese to L, Rose 
 Dolby accompanying her. They started a lit- 
 tle after midnight, that they might reach the city 
 before the day grew hot. Joe Slocum, wishing to 
 make a few purchases in shape of furniture for his 
 house, went along, as well as Lund who drove the 
 team. 
 
 As the way was very dark, a small lantern was 
 swung at the head of either horse; Bub slept with his 
 head on Rose Dolby's lap, Rose and Slocum dozed, 
 while Nana sat wide awake, her back braced against a 
 pile of cheese boxes. The wagon rattled dismally 
 along, and the dreary, continuous tramp of the horses' 
 feet filled her with intense loneliness. She wished 
 that Lund would speak to her, or even turn his head, 
 but he sat stiff and solemn in his seat, giving his atten- 
 tion to the road in front, over which the two lanterns 
 shed a pale light. She was tempted to speak to him ; 
 but no, it would do no good. She could not tell him 
 her secret. She must bear her loss and disappoint- 
 ment alone. But it made her more lonely to see him, 
 her only friend, sitting there with his back to her, his 
 slouch hat pulled over his eyes, intent upon his work, 
 and she believed, with no thought beyond it. Thus 
 
IN THE CITY. 65 
 
 she sat meditating until many miles lay between her 
 and the Royster farm. 
 
 Joe Slocum woke, and looked towards the east. 
 
 " Day is breakin'," he remarked. 
 
 1 ' How far are we from L ? " Nana inquired. 
 
 ' ' Near fifteen miles yet. Are you happy, little 
 'un?" 
 
 "As much as usual, thank you," was the dry re- 
 sponse. 
 
 ' ' Do you know what you' re goin' to L for ? " 
 
 " Yes, to see the city. I've never seen a city." 
 
 11 You are goin' for sometin' more than that." 
 
 "What for?" 
 
 "To buy your weddin' clothes." 
 
 " Nonsense. I am not going to be married." 
 
 " Yes, you air." 
 
 4 ' How do you know ? ' ' 
 
 " Mis' Royster and me have calc'lated on it." 
 
 Nana's heart stood still. Nothing had ever been 
 said of her marriage with Joe since the day she and 
 Lund had talked it over on the prairie, the day 
 she had first met Lucky Fielding, and gradually the 
 fear of it had slipped from her mind, as impending 
 calamities that have done no more than threaten, are 
 wont to do. But here it was confronting her again. 
 She controlled herself until she was able to inquire 
 with calmness. 
 
 ' ' What do you mean ? ' ' 
 
 ' ' That you air a goin' to marry me next comin* 
 Wednesday. We'll invite some people, and have a 
 
66 LUCKY. 
 
 shake-down at the Roysters' to celebrate. You can 
 dance the Diner Polka then to your heart's content. 
 I'll have the fiddlers up from Elk Bend. I know you 
 be fond o' dancin'." 
 
 "And I have nothing to say about this, I pre- 
 sume. ' ' 
 
 "Why, we cal' elated you should be suited. No 
 expense will be spared for the jubilee. You needn't 
 worry your head, little 'un. You'll have nothing to 
 find fault with." 
 
 1 * I do not mean that. I mean that I think you 
 and Mrs. Royster ought to have asked my consent to 
 this arrangement which seems to be a settled matter 
 between me and you." 
 
 " Why ? Don't you want to get married, gal ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Why? Ain't I always been good to you and 
 saved you from lots o' trouble ? Ain' t it I that saw 
 to your bein' eddicated ? Ain' t ' ' 
 
 "Oh yes, Joe, and for that I am grateful. But 
 gratitude is not love." 
 
 ' ' Can' t you love me a bit, my pretty, if you try real 
 hard?" 
 
 ' ' No, Joe. I am sorry, but I never can. You are 
 a man, Joe. You'll let me alone and not plague me 
 any more about it." 
 
 " Sorry, little 'un, but I can't let you alone. I've 
 counted on it, year after year, and waited, always 
 a-thinkin' of the happy days a-comin'. I've clinched 
 the bargain with the Roysters, and am a-furnishin' 
 
IN THE CITY. 67 
 
 my house now. Business is business, and love is 
 another thing. Lettin' love alone, I've done without 
 a housekeeper five years, waitin' for you, and now, 
 you mustn't go back on me. You'll have no hard 
 times, little 'un. You'll not find me a bad man." 
 
 Nana saw that words from her on the subject would 
 be wasted, so sighed and kept silent. But her thoughts 
 were busy the remaining fifteen miles of her ride, and 
 before they reached L. she had made up her mind 
 what to do. 
 
 The long, tiresome day in the hot streets of the city 
 finally came to an end, and the two girls were closeted 
 in a little box of a room, under the roof of a small 
 Dutch hotel, while the men slept in the wagon on the 
 haymarket square, to guard the produce yet unsold, 
 and save the price of lodging. 
 
 The room was dingy and cheerless, and a smell of 
 onions pervaded the air. Rose let down her long hair, 
 and looked at Nana, who sat at the foot of the bed, 
 nursing her knees in her slender arms. 
 
 " Isn't this glorious !" cried the former young lady. 
 
 " I can't say that I see the glory of it," Nana 
 answered. 
 
 4 ' Why, we are sleeping all alone in a hotel for the 
 first time in our lives." 
 
 ' * And if this is a fair sample of hotels, I hope it will 
 be the last." 
 
 ''Haven't you enioyed yourself to-day, dear?" 
 
 "No." 
 
68 LUCKY. 
 
 ''What! Do you mean to say you don't enjoy 
 looking at pretty things? Why, I should be crazy 
 with joy if I could buy such things as dear Mrs. 
 Royster is giving you. That delaine of yours is 
 just grand ! It is pretty enough for a wedcttng dress." 
 
 " It is for my wedding dress, Rose." 
 
 Rose looked at her a moment with beaming eyes, 
 then throwing her arms round Nana's neck cried out 
 joyfully : 
 
 ' ' Oh, I am so glad ! Who is it, dear ? Lucky 
 Fielding?" 
 
 ' * No. Lucky Fielding has gone away to the Upper 
 Missouri to shoot teal and get himself a wife. ' ' 
 
 Rose gave a little gasp of surprise, and took her 
 arms away. 
 
 "I can't think who it is, then," she said, knitting 
 her brows in perplexity. 
 
 "The last person you'd guess in the world," said 
 Nana, looking at her so intently that Rose sprang up 
 with a little scream. 
 
 " Goodness gracious ! Not my Bub?" 
 
 ' ' Not so bad as that, ' ' said Nana, smiling grimly. 
 " You want to know who it is, do you ? Well, its no 
 other than Joe Slocum. ' ' 
 
 Rose's eyes widened till they looked like great, blue 
 saucers. 
 
 "You don't say so !" 
 
 " Yes, he's the Roysters' choice, not mine. What 
 do you think of him ?" 
 
 "Well," said Rose consolingly, "he'll be a good 
 
IN THE CITY. 69 
 
 provider, and you'll get used to him after a while." 
 
 Nana laughed a quiet laugh of superiority, which 
 nettled Rose, though she did not understand exactly 
 what it meant. 
 
 " Oh, I know he isn't a bit like Bub," Rose said. 
 
 " No, thank heaven for that." 
 
 " You musn't speak so to me !" 
 
 ' ' Why, musn't I defend my bridegroom ? I thought 
 you were more reasonable. Bub is very fond of you, 
 Rose, and you are a good woman. I hope you'll make 
 a man of him." 
 
 ' ' I know you don' t like Bub. You misunderstand 
 him. So do pa and ma. Now, I understand him 
 perfectly, and know how good he is at heart," rejoined 
 Rose earnestly. 
 
 The girls said no more, but went to bed. Innocent 
 Rose soon slept the sleep of the tired and happy. Not 
 so her companion. For her, the long hours of the 
 night dragged slowly by. Her heart and head were 
 both heavy with weariness and anxiety, but she dared 
 not close her eyes, lest she should oversleep. When 
 the clock in the town hall struck four, she arose and 
 dressed herself quietly, that she might not awaken 
 Rose. Her hasty toilet made, she lifted the latch, 
 hurried down the rickety stair, unbolted the street 
 door, and stepped out into the misty gray of the 
 morning. 
 
 She passed the wagon in the hay market where her 
 associates slept, and hastened on through the unfamiliar 
 streets. Her object was to lose herself from her 
 
70 LUCKY. 
 
 companions till it should be safe to do more. When 
 the sun came up, she was far away from the little 
 Dutch hotel. 
 
 She had reached the suburbs of the city. Perceiv- 
 ing a great building, evidently a church, with a wide 
 portico, she conceived the idea of sheltering herself be- 
 neath it for a time, that she might rest. To her surprise 
 and delight, she found the door ajar, and into the quiet 
 vestibule she crept with a sweet sense of safety and 
 protection, as if God had opened His arms to her in her 
 hour of trouble. Tired out from the long walk, she 
 lay down on one of the cushioned pews, and fell asleep. 
 
 Some hours after, she was awakened by a gentle 
 touch on her forehead. Opening her eyes, she saw 
 bending over her, a silver-haired old man, dressed in 
 long, black robes. The tenderness of his voice and eye 
 inspired her at once with implicit confidence. 
 
 " Well, my stray lamb ?" was his greeting. 
 
 ' ' I was tired and came in here to rest, ' ' Nana 
 explained apologetically. 
 
 ' ( Ah yes, ah yes. May God bless you. There is 
 no better rest than that which is found in the house of 
 the Lord. You have found out the true secret of life, 
 my child. You have flown for your rest to the feet of 
 the Lord." 
 
 He waited for an answer, but receiving none he con- 
 tinued, 
 
 ( ' You have come a long way. Your shoes and 
 dress are dusty. May I know your errand in these 
 parts?" 
 
IN THE CITY. 71 
 
 "It may not be in these parts," Nana answered. 
 "I am looking for Dr. Eustace, the wealthy gentle- 
 man, who does so much charitable work." 
 
 "Dr. Eustace Dr. Eustace," mused the priest. 
 "The name is not familiar to me. Do you know the 
 street and number ? If not, we must look for it in a 
 directory. ' ' 
 
 Nana knew the street and number. She knew the 
 story on the paper she had treasured to that day, by 
 head and heart. Only her love for Lucky had kept 
 her from writing to the good and wealthy man, asking 
 him to do something toward her education. Lucky 
 and Lucky only had held her to the dairy farm. Now 
 that he was gone, there was no use in trying to remain, 
 even if the Roysters did not intend to compel her to 
 marry Joe Slocum. 
 
 " The address is No. 7 M Street," said Nana. 
 
 " Ah yes. That will not be difficult to find. I will 
 send one to guide you by and by. In the meantime, 
 come to my house, which is near at hand, and recejve 
 the material food that we as agents of the Lord are 
 commanded to administer as well as spiritual nourish- 
 ment. You shall be waited upon by my niece, a good 
 lady, who likes little girls." 
 
 With these words, he took her by the hand, and 
 led her as he would a child, into the parsonage. 
 
 Later in the day, she stood at the door of No 7 M 
 Street, and knocked. The house was not a prepossess- 
 ing structure nor was it in a very handsome quarter. 
 Nana thought at first that she must have made a mis- 
 
72 LUCKY. 
 
 take; but no, there was the number above the door. 
 Then she reflected that the benevolent gentleman who 
 lived to do good to others probably gave away so 
 much that he had little for himself. The shutters 
 rattled dismally in the wind as she stood waiting. No 
 one came to the door. She knocked again. 
 
 There was a shuffling of slipshod feet within, and a 
 grumbling voice was saying something about folks 
 who didn't know enough to ring the bell, after which 
 the door opened, and the shocky head of an Irish 
 woman was poked out. 
 
 " I wish to see Dr. Eustace," Nana faltered. " Is 
 this his house, and is he in ?" 
 
 "Och! Now, I guess you be afther manin' me 
 b' y, Stacy. Come in. What be ailin' ye, my pretty? ' ' 
 
 ' ' Nothing. I wanted to see the doctor, ' ' said Nana 
 with sinking heart. 
 
 The Irish woman led her into a disorderly room, 
 and opening a stair door at the left, called hoarsely, 
 
 "Stacy! Stacy!" 
 
 There was no response. 
 
 ' ' Stacy, ye dumb lune, be after stirrin' your stumps. 
 There's a lady here to see ye and very ill she is." 
 
 There was a scuffing of feet above, and soon some 
 one began to descend the stairs. 
 
 Poor Nana! The man who appeared before her 
 was not the Dr. Eustace of her dreams. 
 
 He was short and thick set with red face and shocky 
 hair like his mother's, but he looked good natured 
 and even kind. 
 
IN THE CITY. 73 
 
 ' ' And is it me ye be afther wishin' to consult ? " he 
 inquired in a rich brogue, as he stooped to examine 
 Nana's pulse. 
 
 " I want to see Dr. Eustace, but I'm not sick at 
 all! " Nana blurted out. 
 
 " Och! " grunted the mother, " It's crazy the poor 
 child is! I was after seein' it in her eye from the 
 firrust." 
 
 "I am Docther Eustace at your sarvice, mum," 
 said the man with a bow. 
 
 You are not the Dr. Eustace who builds schools 
 you are not this Dr. Eustace ? ' ' and Nana drew from 
 her little purse, a crumpled wood cut which she had 
 clipped from the paper the teamster had given her 
 long ago. 
 
 The doctor examined it with chuckles of admiration. 
 
 11 That's me! I'm your identical huckleberry! " he 
 cried at last. "Sure and ye' ve not missed your mark, 
 whin ye aimed here. I niver founded a school, bejab- 
 bers, but doesn' t the proverb say thot the intintion is as 
 good as the dade? Faith, and I would have been 
 born handsome too, like thot, if sarcumstances had 
 not been ag'inst me. I didn't have me own way 
 about thot at all, at all, but is not the intintion as good 
 as the dade? What is your business wid me, 
 missy ? ' ' 
 
 Nana tired and sick at heart, unable to bear her 
 disappointment longer, burst into tears. 
 
 "Och, now, acushla! Don't be after a doin' av 
 thot! What be ailin' ye? If ye be in nade av a 
 frind, Stacy Bond's your b'y! " 
 
74 LUCKY. 
 
 He was touched by her distress and strange beauty. 
 He declared that he was willing to lay down his life for 
 her if necessary, and when the whole of the sad story 
 was drawn from the reluctant lips of the runaway, he 
 exclaimed, slapping his salt and pepper trousers in real 
 delight. 
 
 " Faith, and ye did roight me plucky darlint, and 
 Stacy Bond's the b'y that'll stand by ye through foire 
 and water, through thick and thin! " 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A PROPOSAL. 
 
 STACY BOND was Dr. Eustace Bond, better known 
 to consumers of patent medicine as Dr. Eustace. 
 He related the story of his start in life to Nana thus : 
 
 ' ' The poit says thot tongue is long and toime is 
 fleetin', but as nayther you nor I seems pressed wid 
 business, ye might loike to hear how such a homely 
 man as me can take so foine a photygraph. I tuk it 
 from the counter av a protygraph store, begarry, or I 
 shouldn't have had it, nayther. The man whose 
 loikness it was had gone to the Californy shore, and I 
 knew 'twas safe, for if Dr. Eustace's rimidies should 
 travel thot fur, 'twould make me rich enough to convince 
 any coort thot he had stolen me countenance instid av 
 I his loikness. I hoired a man to wroite me touchin' 
 stories fer the papers. Thot was some toime afther I 
 firrust went into business, howsomever. 
 
 " I was but a orphint mesel' and me mither a widdy, 
 and the workhouse a stretchin' out its yearnin' arrums 
 fur us both. The poit Spearshook says ' How sublime 
 a thing it is to suffer and growl it out, begarry ; ' but 
 Stacy Bond did not agree wid the ould spalpeen. I 
 resolved mesel' to stir me stumps and chate bad fortune. 
 I obeyed the sage dictates av me conscience which said 
 to me, said it 'Stacy Bond, me b'y, ye want bread, 
 
 75 
 
76 LUCKY. 
 
 and if I'm not mistook your principles be not agin the 
 havin' av your bread buttered, wid ever and anon, a 
 relish av beefsteak and froid onions. Ye have often 
 been told by your rich and distant ahem relations 
 thot no b'y should have tastes above his station. So 
 if ye can't suit your stummick to your station, Stacy, 
 me b'y, ye must suit your station to your stummick. 
 Ye are fond of hoigh art, especially in the desoigns av 
 meat poys and sich artistic cupboard furniture and 
 break-your-back. Ye know thot a thing av beauty 
 is a j'y forever, as well as the poit did whin he said so, 
 and ye know thot there's nothin' more beautiful than a 
 dish av roast pig wid parsely av a Thanksgivin' Day. 
 
 ' ' Ye know what ye want, your rich uncles and aunts, 
 nivertheless. Ye don't hanker for gems thot glisten 
 wid financial loight, ye are not at present a chasin' 
 afther the broight feathered and fleet winged birrud 
 called fame ; but ye do pine fur a square meal three 
 toimes a day, even if the feelin' don't quoite coincoide 
 wid the rules av political economy. Let Sokratix 
 prate and Salamander argy, the lariat av Tinnyson is 
 not to be compared wid a good dinner. A good dinner 
 has more enloightenment in it than a whole art loan 
 crammed wid Purillos and Raffles. It breathes out an 
 eddicative influence thot knocks to smithereens all the 
 tenets av Mill and Spincer. 
 
 "This was my philosophy. I soon started down 
 the strate wid a satchel slung over me back forhinst 
 me. It wa' n' t no arishtocratic, upper crust av a satchel, 
 nayther ; but if patches is respictable, as they says they 
 
A PROPOSAL. 77 
 
 is, then thot same trusty carpet bag had plenty av 
 roight to respict. I can't say much fer the halin' power 
 av its inner contents. I made it mesel' out av sugar 
 and flour wid a little Queen Ann mixed in to give it a 
 mediciny flavor to plaze the popular taste. 
 
 ' ' I felt aisy in me mind fer me rimidies was as good 
 as any av the kind in the market. Who expects to 
 gather paches from a thistle crop, or to get a whole 
 system full av good health from a patent medicine 
 bottle ? But there was another thing thot troubled me 
 soul and very near broke me back. The satchel was 
 heavy wid its weight of rimidies fer every disaise known 
 to mortal man, as Shokespook says ; then I said to 
 mesel' , ' Now, Stacy, ye crazy lune, bad luck to ye, 
 why don't ye invint a rimidy thot will cure all disaises 
 to wanst ?' That I did, and whin next I shinned it 
 down the strate, I carried wid me a rimidy thot would 
 knock anything to flinders from a pin prick av a pain 
 in the left corner av the north east eye to a broken 
 limb av three months' standin'. Faith and St. Patrick, 
 it was a rimidy ! 'Twas thot which made me fortune. 
 
 " Whin firrsut I started me men in the field, I had 
 crazy work av it, fer often toimes they trisspassed on each 
 others torry terry, and then there was war to the broom - 
 schtick handle. The ladies who had seen wan av me 
 agents were not anxious to pursue the acquaintance av 
 another unless wid a butcher knoif. 'Twas an evil day 
 fer me, begarry. So says I to me inmost soul, ' Stacy, 
 me b'y, ye've got your thinkin' cap on the wrong soide 
 av your head. Rouse up and straighten it, or ye' re a 
 
78 LUCKY. 
 
 ruined man.' The result av me miditation was that 
 whin next I sallied out, I hugged an idee close to me 
 throbbin' breast. 
 
 " I rung a bell, and the "misses appeared, or ruther 
 the ultimate end av her nose did through an infinitely 
 small crack in the dure. ' Be off wid ye !' says she, 
 poloightly. 
 
 " 'Excuse me kindly, mum,' says I, 'but I have a 
 missage av importance to give ye.' 
 
 " ' Come in, thin,' says she. 
 
 "The Rubbercorn was crossed whin I crossed the 
 threshold. Knowin' thot I now had the advantage, I 
 could be as darin' as plazed me fancy. I drew down 
 me mug till it closely resimbled a funeral procession on 
 the Fourth av Juloy, and says I to her, ' Me grand- 
 mither is dead,' says I. 
 
 " ' Poor b'y !' says she, in a pityin' tone. 
 
 " ' That's what I am, and roight ye are in two sinses 
 av the word,' says I. Then I related in me most heart 
 crushin' tone the story av the good lady's death. 
 Thrue, she doied before ever I was born, but what av 
 thot? A man who would spake av the death av so 
 near a relative widout the sheddin' av a few tears is a 
 wretch indade. I did me duty, ye may as well belave. 
 I stirred her heart, and when I saw it I says, says I, 
 ' But the most terrible part av it is she moight have 
 been saved.' 
 
 ' ' By this toime I was settin' in the parlor on a sofy, 
 wid a grand pianny at me roight and an illegant mirror 
 at me left, a sippin a' glass av foine wine, as who would 
 
A PROPOSAL. 79 
 
 fuse to do wid a broight and beautiful lady a urgin' 
 him, and a sighin' and sayin' ' Poor b'y !' 
 
 " ' Tell me av it,' says she. I was always a master 
 hand to get on wid the ladies. 
 
 "'That I will/ says I. ( There is nothing in the 
 world so vallyable for influenza, or malariar or any 
 disaise you moight mintion as Dr. Eustace's Miracu- 
 lous Compound. This her mourners urged her to 
 take. But she was orthydox and employed a docther 
 who called himself a regelar, and he declared it was 
 contrary to medical antics to allow her to take a 
 rimidy so newly dishcovered. So she doied. ' 
 
 " ' Don't name the name av Dr. Eustace in me pris- 
 ence,' says she. 
 
 " * Be aisy, ma'am, be aisy! What have ye agin Dr. 
 Eustace, the blissed man ? ' 
 
 " ' Some man sold me some av his warthless whoite 
 powders,' says she. 
 
 " ' Whoite powders ? ' says I. * Dr. Eustace sells no 
 whoite powders.' 
 
 " * Do me ears decave me? ' 
 
 " ' No, mum, ye hear straight,' and I tuk from me 
 faithful satchel some black powders to convence her. 
 
 " 'Twas aisy enough to set down me own agents as 
 imposters, and them me the same, savin' our backs 
 many a time from the poker and the rimidy from 
 losin' av its repitation. Whin our customers had been a 
 buyin' av black powders we gave 'em whoite, and if 
 whoite and black we gave 'em yellow. 
 
 1 ' By these manes I was at length able to trade on a 
 
80 LUCKY. 
 
 larger scale. I got me stories wrote and printed, and 
 me borryed photygraph fixed at the top. I started 
 all me men out in little wagons, and me rimidy was 
 soon so much in demand thot the drug stores in some 
 places was glad to handle it. I have a winnin' way 
 peculiar to mesel' alone thot gets the hearts av me 
 customers. And now I am gittin' gradually on to 
 fortune." 
 
 Dr. Eustace set Nana to work folding and address- 
 ing circulars, and labelling bottles, which he usually 
 hired done when he did not have time to attend to it 
 himself. He paid her a small amount, and his mother 
 was persuaded to throw in board and lodging. It was 
 not an ideal situation, but she resolved in the mean- 
 time to be looking for another. In the stories she had 
 read, persons were always on the watch for bright 
 young ladies such as she, to serve as companions, in 
 which situations they were made much of, and finally 
 ended by marrying into the family, et cetera. But no 
 one seemed to want Nana. The close of her first 
 month in L. found her still working with circulars and 
 paste. 
 
 You have heard Stacy's life history as told by him- 
 self; but his mother had a sequel in preparation. 
 
 Biddy Pitchly was a laundry girl, and a lady of 
 beauty and wealth. She had a fine presence, weigh- 
 ing nearly two hundred pounds at the lowest, a peach 
 pudding face, sweet as a rose, Mrs. Bond declared, 
 cunning little eyes that you scarcely could see for the 
 plumpness of her cheeks, and round, red arms, strong 
 
A PROPOSAL. 8 1 
 
 for loving embraces and the washboard. She dressed 
 elegantly in furbelows of gorgeous colorings. She 
 had a hundred dollars in the bank, and an uncle who 
 could leave her as much more if he would only be 
 accommodating enough to die. She was fond of 
 Stacy, and if he did not return her affection, he was a 
 muttonhead, or so said Mrs. Bond. 
 
 Mrs. Bond had never favored Stacy's new help. 
 She saw in Nana a dangerous rival to her favorite. 
 That the girl would not jump at the chance of marry- 
 ing her idolized son never entered her head. 
 
 It was the beginning of Nana's fifth week at the 
 Bonds'. She was busy at her little table in the room 
 which Stacy and his mother dignified by the name of 
 1 ' Office. ' ' Her employer entered, and began to 
 compliment her quickness and deftness of hand. 
 
 (< Faith, I could not do widout ye," he declared. 
 
 * ' Some one else will do as well when I go, ' ' laughed 
 Nana. 
 
 " You must never go, me darlint," said Stacy. 
 
 Nana paid no attention to the affectionate appella- 
 tion. Stacy and his mother wer given to such 
 epithets. 
 
 ' ' Me darlint, ' ' he said again, as Nana folded her 
 last circular, and having laid it upon the pile at her 
 elbow, arose ta go. 
 
 Nana started. If there was nothing unusual in his 
 manner of addressing her, there certainly was in the 
 tone. 
 
 ' ' Don' t be scared, alanna, ' ' he continued as he 
 
82 LUCKY. 
 
 noticed the change in her face. "A bit av a choild 
 loike ye may not be used to such things, so I will be 
 koind enough to warn ye beforehand. I'm a' goin' to 
 propose.'* 
 
 " To propose ! " Nana was utterly astonished. 
 
 ' ' Faith yes. And why not ? Ain' t me business 
 prosperous enough to permit me to have a woife? 
 I've been a thinkin' av it since the day ye firrust came. 
 Says I to mesel', 'Stacy Bond, me b'y, did ye ever see 
 such eyes and such hair ? And did ye ever see such a 
 smart girrul, at all, at all ? She's just the woife fer ye, 
 Stacy Bond, says I. But be aisy, I'm a goin' to do 
 me courtin* up in schtoile, loike they does in the books, 
 never fear. Angel av me heart, loight av me soul, 
 hallelujah av me eyes " 
 
 Nana's patience gave way. She interrupted him at 
 this juncture with the petulant exclamation: 
 
 " Oh, Dr. Eustace, do stop your nonsense ! " 
 
 "Be aisy, Miss. It may be imbarrisin' , but it is 
 essintial. A marriage can not go on widout the 
 preliminaries, at all, at all, so plaze don't interrupt. 
 Sure and I have been a thinkin' av this fer a long 
 toime, and know how to do it. Beauteous wan, have 
 ye never felt in the hivin av me prisence a devoin 
 extatic swellin' av the soul av the soul av av 
 och! I have fergot me piece, but the long and short 
 av it is, me darlint, though Biddy Pitchly be a wantin' 
 me to have her, I loike ye best, acushla, and I'll have 
 ye if ye' 11 have me, ' sure as the stump grows round the 
 voine,' as Spokeshear says." 
 
A PROPOSAL. 83 
 
 Nana was too angry and distressed to answer, but 
 slipped through the arms that were reached out to 
 clasp her, and hurried to her own room. Sitting down 
 on the floor, she gave vent to her feelings in a loud 
 burst of laughter, half mirthful, half hysterical, after 
 which, she composed herself and put on her hat for 
 her accustomed walk. 
 
 As she stepped into the hall, she encountered Mrs. 
 Bond. That lady did not seem to be in the best of 
 humors. 
 
 "Sure and what is this ye mane, ye simple little 
 country gawk, a sittin' yoursel' to lure away the tinder 
 affictions av me only son, and he a refoined profis- 
 sional gintleman ? ' ' she burst out. 
 
 Nana protested that she had sought to gain the 
 affections of no one. 
 
 "Och! Don't I know? Wa'n't I a listenin' wid 
 me own ears at the kayhole ? Ye've been a schemin' 
 to outwit his poor ould mither that's spent years a 
 plannin' fer her b'y, and his future." 
 
 "You are mistaken, Mrs. Bond. I have tried to 
 outwit no one." 
 
 " And ye don't mane to say thot ye hadn't any de- 
 soigns on me son ? ' ' 
 
 " I mean to say just that." 
 
 " Ye have, ye little whoite wretch! " 
 
 Nana was by this time too indignant to control her- 
 self. 
 
 " I tell you Mrs. Bond, that you are altogether 
 mistaken. To tell you the whole truth, your son is 
 
84 LUCKY. 
 
 not the style of man I would care to marry, so you 
 can set your heart at rest." 
 
 ' ' Co ye mane to insult me, his own mither ? Why 
 me b'y Stacy is good enough for the Quane's daugh- 
 ther, much less than you that he picked up off the 
 strate. Out av me house this minute, ye hussy, and 
 don't step your foot inside me dure agin ! " 
 
 Nana found herself thrust by strong hands into the 
 street and trie door closed behind her. 
 
 For a time she walked along undecided. She had 
 no wish to return to the Bonds. Everything about 
 the house was distasteful to her, and now it would be 
 unbearable. 
 
 She had gone some distance, when the sign ' ' Em- 
 ployment Bureau ' ' greeted her eyes. A new idea 
 occurred to her. Without hesitation, she mounted 
 the steps and went in. The interior of the room was 
 none too inviting. The walls were bare and the 
 window hangings tattered and dusty. Several chairs 
 were scattered around the place, and five or six coarse- 
 featured women were loitering aimlessly about. Nana 
 held a brief conversation with the woman at the desk, 
 who eyed her disapprovingly. 
 
 "There ain't much ever comes along for girls like 
 you," she said. " I s'pose you can't do very hard 
 work. Have you ever lived out ? " 
 
 4 'No," Nana faltered. 
 
 "There ain't many calls for help that ain't got 
 strength." 
 
 ' ' I never was called weak. ' ' 
 
A PROPOSAL. 85 
 
 The woman looked at her again very closely. 
 
 " What would you like to do ? " 
 
 1 ' I had thought of going as companion to an invalid 
 lady." 
 
 " We don't have many such calls, and you'd never 
 stand a house maid's duties. I guess you don't know 
 what's before you. Have you a home? " 
 
 ' ' No, ' ' said Nana, and a chilly sensation crept over 
 her, as she realized how utterly desolate she was. For 
 the first time since leaving the Royster farm, she 
 wished herself back. 
 
 " Well, we' 11 see, we'll see," said the woman kindly. 
 ' ' There may be a call. We do get one now and 
 then. I'd advise you to register and keep up heart." 
 
 Nana registered, and went away feeling that some- 
 thing must come of it. She had been educated in 
 books, and in books, something always happens in the 
 nick of time. The story of utter and continuous fail- 
 ure seldom is told in literature ; it is too uninteresting. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE PALLADIAN ACADEMY AND NEW 
 LESSONS OF LIFE. 
 
 AT the small lodging house where Nana had at last 
 found a refuge within her means, she was still 
 waiting. A week had nearly elapsed and nothing had 
 come to her. She was in her room looking over her 
 small belongings which she had hired a boy to fetch 
 from the Bonds', and calculating how long the price 
 of certain articles would keep her alive if sold, in case 
 she found no work. There were only a few books 
 and trinkets of little value indeed. Nana glanced over 
 her shoulder into the small cracked looking-glass, at 
 her hair, silken and beautiful, as it fell over her shoul- 
 ders in luxurious ripples. She had read in stories, of 
 girls who had sold their hair. She thought with a 
 sigh that she might do it if hard pressed. This was 
 the subject which possessed her mind, when a door 
 opened below, and her landlady called up the stair: 
 
 "Miss Meers! Miss Meers! Will you come and 
 speak to this lady?" 
 
 Nana arose quickly, and hurried to the little parlor 
 on the first floor, where the lodgers usually received 
 their visitors. As she entered, a lady who had been 
 sitting on a chair by the window arose to greet her. 
 
 She was a frail little creature with great dark circles 
 under her eyes. She wore a neatly-fitting dress of 
 
THE PALLADIAN ACADEMY. 87 
 
 blue serge and a large sun hat, which looked as though 
 it had been adjusted in a hurry without much thought 
 as to the points of compass; her hands, which were 
 ungloved, were white and slender, and her face fine 
 and intellectual as it was, bore evidence of its owner's 
 acquaintance with pain, mental or physical, or both. 
 Nana had little chance to study it, for the young 
 woman took a keen survey of her from head to foot, 
 and said, 
 
 -You'll do." * 
 
 Nana looked at her questioningly. 
 
 * ' I am Miss Sedling of the Palladian Art Acad- 
 emy," the stranger explained. "We are in trouble 
 down there, and I have undertaken to settle matters. 
 Our model went off in a huff this morning, and Mr. 
 Hartman thought classes would have to be suspended 
 until another could be secured. I happened to know 
 Mrs. Yates, your landlady, who sometimes, you see, 
 chances to have with her, persons glad of temporary 
 employment, and I came to her for assistance in the 
 dilemma. She has referred me to you. Will you 
 come? " 
 
 An art academy ! Nana found the prospect en- 
 trancing. She would gladly go. 
 
 "All you'll have to do is to wear a Roman costume 
 and stand as you are placed," Miss Sedling went on 
 to explain. ' ' You will make a fine picture with a 
 classic background. Our patron goddess must have 
 directed my footsteps this morning. ' ' 
 
 Nana ran to get her hat. Her picture to be painted, 
 
88 LUCKY. 
 
 and in a Roman costume with a classic background ! 
 How delightfully romantic ! 
 
 She was soon ready, and as they walked along, her 
 companion waxed communicative. 
 
 " I like your looks," she said, " and it will give me 
 great pleasure to paint you. You will find posing 
 monotonous, I dare say, but they will pay you fifty 
 cents an hour. You did not ask me what they would 
 pay before you agreed to come. Why not ? ' ' 
 
 "Oh, I was very glad to go!" exclaimed Nana. 
 1 ' I have never seen an art school, and I consider it 
 very good fortune indeed to have my picture painted. " 
 
 Miss Sedling smiled at her enthusiasm. 
 
 ' * Where have you lived all your life ? ' ' she asked. 
 
 "In the country." 
 
 ' 'And you think the city is a wonderful place ? ' ' 
 
 " I I was rather disappointed in it at first, but now 
 I am sure I shall like it," said Nana. 
 
 "Youth is very hopeful," Miss Sedling remarked, 
 with another odd smile upon her lips. 
 
 Nana wondered how old she was. She had a quick 
 elastic step, and her voice was light and young. But 
 there was such a worn expression upon her face. 
 Nana could not guess her age. 
 
 Miss Sedling cast another swift glance at Nana, 
 taking her in from head to foot. 
 
 " You are a little wild flower," she said at length. 
 " It is not often we have a model like you. I do not 
 intend any flattery. I speak as an artist. Never be 
 vain. Take the gifts which God has bestowed and 
 enjoy them humbly. I was once beautiful." 
 
THE PALLADIAN ACADEMY. 89 
 
 Nana glanced at the weary little face somewhat 
 doubtfully, at which her companion smiled again. 
 
 " There is something more than mere physical 
 beauty in the face which I admire. Do you know 
 what that is ? " Miss Sedling inquired. 
 
 Nana did not. Indeed, she was beginning to feel 
 herself utterly insignificant beside this little woman, 
 this real artist. 
 
 1 ' I mean soul expression. The face which tells a 
 story." 
 
 ' ' What story can mine tell ? ' ' Nana questioned 
 \\onderingly. 
 
 "It tells one." 
 
 " Do tell me what." 
 
 1 ' You are interested in yourself, are you not ? 
 Well, it is but natural. Youth always is. It is not 
 vanity. It is simplicity and and curiosity. Youth 
 is curious and it has a right to be. Youth stands on 
 the brink of life and looks eagerly forward, proud and 
 confident in its own little craft that soon must be 
 launched upon the flood. Poor little boat ! We may 
 hope that it carries a good strong life line. ' ' 
 
 The two were silent for a moment. Then Miss 
 Sedling spoke again. 
 
 ' 'Are you visiting here ? ' ' 
 
 " No." 
 
 * 'Are your parents living ? ' ' 
 
 ''No." 
 
 " Poor child ! Did you come here expecting to 
 work?" 
 
90 LUCKY. 
 
 " To work and study, if I can." 
 
 ' ' To study what ? ' ' 
 
 " Oh, I don't know. I am so ignorant. I want to 
 know everything." 
 
 ' ' You can not do that. However, mere knowledge 
 is nothing. What one wants is development. You 
 should study art." 
 
 "I should like to." 
 
 ' ' Art is a refuge from the world and from yourself, 
 that is, the study of it. I like you. I am city born, 
 and you are something new and curious to me. I am 
 used to hot-house roses and artificials. Sweet briars 
 are rarities in the market. I am going to have you 
 pose for me privately, later on. I want to paint you 
 with a country background, and call you ' The Sweet 
 Briar. ' Do you like the idea ? ' ' 
 
 " Oh, if you could only paint the little hills!" mur- 
 mured Nana. " I should love to see them again." 
 
 " Are you homesick ? " 
 
 11 No, only for the hills and the cattle, and and " 
 
 "You must tell me of them, and probably I shall 
 be able to do it. We are nearing the Academy now, 
 and I must give you a word of warning. You must 
 not pay attention to anything you hear said. We 
 can not afford to be sensitive in this world of work. 
 No one who loves art for its own grand sake will annoy 
 you, but there are some who may. However, always 
 remember that I am your friend, and that I am about 
 the oldest student in the place, which gives me a sort 
 of distinction. I should advise you as soon as pos- 
 
THE PALLADIAN ACADEMY. 91 
 
 sible to change your mode of dressing. Yours is 
 picturesque I allow, but rather old fashioned and 
 countrified. Here we are." 
 
 The Academy grounds were spacious and green. 
 In the center stood the building, which Nana thought 
 very odd in shape, and Miss Sedling told her that it 
 was built after an old Greek pattern. The halls were 
 dark and even chilly. Miss Sedling led Nana upstairs 
 into a small room with one grimy window, through 
 the panes of which the sunlight struggled faintly. 
 She then brought out from a cobwebby wardrobe, the 
 Roman dress which was once white, perhaps, but of a 
 decidedly negative tint now, and much the worse for 
 wear. Nana was soon arrayed in its classic folds, and 
 conducted in triumph before the class. 
 
 " She has captured one ! She has captured one !" 
 was the enthusiastic greeting. Nana thought it 
 extremely rude. Her newly-found friend seemed to 
 read her thoughts, and whispered : 
 
 ' ' Never mind. This is the realm of art. Don' t 
 have any feelings. They are superfluous. You' 11 get 
 used to it. ' ' 
 
 Nana was duly placed in pose, and after a few 
 murmurs of admiration, the class fell to work. 
 
 Nana's task was no easy one. She was beginning 
 to feel faint from standing so long, when some one 
 remarked, in a mechanical tone : 
 
 1 ' The model has moved her head. ' ' 
 
 "They talk as if I were a block of wood," thought 
 Nana, but Miss Sedling was at her side, whispering 
 
92 LUCKY. 
 
 words of encouragement, and telling her that it was 
 time to rest. 
 
 " It isn't often Miss Thalia descends from her lofty 
 height," a student remarked loud enough to be heard, 
 as Nana passed into the cloak room, leaning on Miss 
 Sedling's arm. 
 
 1 ' She is behaving strangely, ' ' was the answer. 
 " But really the model is pretty more than pretty." 
 
 ' ' That' s nothing. We' ve had pretty models before. 
 She's dowdy enough. I saw them as they came into 
 the hall down stairs, before she put on the costume." 
 
 ' ' There is no telling what Thalia will do. She is 
 freakish. She is an old student and a good one ; we 
 must respect, but thank goodness, we needn't imitate 
 her." 
 
 Nana took her place again when called, and so the 
 forenoon went by with alternate posing and resting. 
 
 "You'll be on time to-morrow?" a voice called 
 after her, as almost deaf and blind from over-exertion, 
 she turned to leave the wilderness of easels and canvas 
 for the last time that day. 
 
 " I will not fail," she replied, and hurried out. 
 
 Miss Sedling was in the dressing room to unpin the 
 ancient drapery, and help Nana to readjust her own 
 gown and hat. 
 
 " You are tired, are you not?" she said. "To- 
 morrow I must see that you get to rest oftener. But 
 you have captivated them all. I heard Mr. Hartman 
 himself call you a sylph. That ought to be enough to 
 rest you immediately, for Mr. Hartman seldom takes 
 time to be complimentary." 
 
THE PALLADIAN ACADEMY. 93 
 
 Nana's reflections were none too pleasant as she 
 walked homeward. Notwithstanding the fact that 
 Mr. Hartman had taken time to praise her, she vowed 
 that nothing but the money would entice her into the 
 Palladian Academy again. She had to live, and well 
 it was for the unfinished picture. The remarks she 
 had overheard concerning herself and her dress seemed 
 more than she could bear ; but she would not be a 
 laughing stock because of her old country made dress, 
 which she had once thought so pretty. Sooner than 
 that, she would sell her hair. With this idea, she 
 repaired to the establishment of a well-known hair- 
 dresser, immediately after dinner, which was very 
 hurriedly eaten lest any delay should weaken her 
 resolution. 
 
 She crept up the stairs and knocked timidly at the 
 door. It was opened by a blustering young woman, 
 with wiry hair, steel-gray eyes, and harsh, masculine 
 voice. 
 
 "Well, miss, what can I do for you?" she asked 
 as Nana hesitated on the threshold. 
 
 ' * Do you buy hair here ? ' ' the girl faltered. 
 
 "Yes, sometimes." 
 
 ' ' Will will you buy mine ? ' ' 
 
 The woman stepped forward, and took one of Nana's 
 curls between her fingers. She examined it critically 
 for a moment, then said : 
 
 "Yes, I'll take it." 
 
 "What will you pay?" 
 
 ' ' Twenty-five cents an ounce. ' ' 
 
94 LUCKY. 
 
 ' ' How many ounces are there ? ' ' 
 
 "About six." 
 
 The vision of a new gown, ribbons, and gloves 
 instantly vanished. It was a bitter disappointment. 
 Nana slid into a chair and wept silently. The woman 
 had produced a great pair of shears, and stood eyeing 
 the sobbing girl half scornfully. 
 
 "Well, shall I take it? Are you in need of 
 bread?" 
 
 Nana sprang to her feet, shot a swift glance at her 
 questioner, then without a word of reply, left the 
 place. 
 
 As she was returning to her lodging, a sign in the 
 window of a dilapitated building caught her attention. 
 It read : " Cash for Second Hand Books." Here was 
 another hope. Nana had several books as good as 
 new ; she would sell them. 
 
 A little old man in a shabby coat met her as she 
 entered, and inquired with a smile, ' * What does the 
 lady wish ? ' ' However, when it was found that she had 
 only come to see about disposing of a few volumes, 
 his countenance fell, and he growled out : 
 
 " Got 'em with you?" 
 
 ' ' No, I came to see if you would take them. ' ' 
 
 ' * How can I tell ? I don' t make bargains in no 
 such way, Miss. You' 11 have to bring ' em if you want 
 to sell 'em here." 
 
 "What do you pay?" 
 
 "Oh, it depends. Can't tell until I see 'em." 
 
 Nana ran home to her room, and brought back her 
 
THE PALLADIAN ACADEMY. 95 
 
 books for the old man's inspection. He took them 
 from her hand, turned them over, and shook his 
 head. Nana's heart stood still. 
 
 " Can' t allow you more than fifty cents for the six." 
 
 ** But see how new they are. I paid much more 
 for them." 
 
 " Can't help that. I aint here for my health. I'll 
 give you just what I said ; take it or leave it." 
 
 "Take them," said Nana when she saw that this 
 was final. 
 
 The man counted out her money from a dirty little 
 linen bag which he took from his pocket. Nana received 
 it with a sigh and left the shop. 
 
 The result of this business transaction was a new 
 collar and a tortoise shell hairpin such as the girls at the 
 Academy wore. She bought them at a notion store on 
 her way home. It was the best she could do, though it 
 was but a step toward conventional fashion. The pin, 
 she placed with pride in the fluffy pyramid of brown 
 hair, which after several fruitless attempts, she suc- 
 ceeded in building up. It was entirely satisfactory 
 as far as it went. She glanced repeatedly at her handi- 
 work in the looking-glass, and thought what an utter 
 transformation a trained gown would make in her 
 appearance. 
 
 She had turned over a new leaf in life's text-book. 
 The dreams of our ignorance turn to dust and ashes 
 under the touch of Experience's hand. Nana resolved 
 to follow the advise of Miss Sedling, to do away with 
 all feeling, and expect nothing further at the hand of 
 fate. 
 
96 LUCKY. 
 
 The next day found her at her place before the class 
 in the Palladian Academy, a little paler than usual, 
 but with a look of pride and determination about her 
 lips that no one could fail to notice. Miss Sedling 
 told her that Mr. Hartman intended to paint her por- 
 trait himself, he had found her so interesting, and 
 several of the older lady students were wild to have 
 her pose for them privately. 
 
 1 ' I told them that I did not know whether you 
 would or not/' Miss Sedling said. 
 
 " I I need the money very much," said Nana ner- 
 vously. 
 
 " But it won't do to appear too anxious," warned 
 Miss Sedling. " Let me manage that. I'll have the 
 price of your sittings raised before you're a week 
 older." 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 THALIA. 
 
 NANA had been at the Academy three months 
 and was beginning to feel quite at home. Mr. 
 Hartman had induced a wealthy lady patron of the 
 school to take an interest in her, and she had begun 
 to study drawing with an under teacher, preparatory 
 to entering the life class. 
 
 She had realized her desire to possess a. stylish 
 gown, and no one ever spoke of her now as dowdy. 
 She was considered a very fortunate young lady to 
 have been taken up by Mrs. Star, who kept a fine 
 house, went into society, and took a trip abroad when- 
 ever she pleased. Mrs. Star, it was rumored, had a 
 son also, and who could tell what might happen? 
 Miss Meers was beautiful enough to grace any posi- 
 tion. 
 
 She was sitting in the lecture room one morning 
 almost concealed by the cast of Psyche, when she 
 heard her name mentioned. 
 
 ' ' That girl, ' ' said a large woman in bright blue, to 
 an insignificant little creature with palette and brushes 
 under her arm, " that girl has a future before her." 
 
 "Has she any talent?" 
 
 4 ' Hum, can't say. Divine gifts are nothing nowa- 
 days. She has a pretty face and insinuating manners. 
 
 97 
 
98 LUCKY. 
 
 I'll warrant Miss Sedling wishes she'd left her in her 
 wretched boarding house to starve. ' ' 
 
 "How so?" 
 
 ' ' Because she has what Miss Sedling should have. ' ' 
 
 "What's that?" 
 
 " Mr. Hartman's favor and Mrs. Star's support." 
 
 * * Miss Sedling is always admiring her. ' ' 
 
 "Yes, but that's a blind. How can she do other- 
 wise ? Do you suppose she's going to rejoice in Mr. 
 Hartman's infatuation, when you know she's dead in 
 love with him herself? " 
 
 " He seems to be rather prejudiced in her favor too. 
 Do you think they'll ever marry ? " 
 
 "Marry! Land sakes, no! Thalia is half dead 
 with consumption. The model I mean Miss Meers, 
 has the upper hand." 
 
 The woman in blue was one whom Nana had often 
 seen pacing up and down the corridor, conversing 
 earnestly with a group of eager listeners, while others 
 passed by with an odd smile remarking half audibly, 
 ' * The talking machine. ' ' 
 
 Nana felt hurt at what she had heard. She had not 
 seen Miss Sedling for some time. Was what the 
 woman said really true? Had she lost the kind 
 regard of the friend she loved so much ? 
 
 The two gossips sat down and began to sketch the 
 very Psyche behind which the girl sat, keeping up 
 their chatter meanwhile. Presently the door opened, 
 and the subject was immediately changed. The 
 woman in blue burst out with: 
 
THALIA. 99 
 
 "What life is more happy than that of the student, 
 especially the student of an art? While others walk 
 the earth, he treads the clouds. He may not succeed 
 in the world's sense of the word, but after all, is he a 
 failure ? Some poet has said that even our failures are 
 a prophecy. If this life is all, then what are our 
 longings created for ? Are those who yearn for the 
 unattainable, simply questions without answers ? " 
 
 The girl who had just come in joined the group and 
 said: 
 
 ' ' I see, Mrs. France, that you are trying to vindi- 
 cate my right to existence. Bravo ! And thrice 
 again, bravo! You are supremely charitable to con- 
 cede me the privilege. Few there are who care how 
 much a poor glow-worm may struggle to let its little 
 light shine for eyes that see, smile, and forget, but the 
 worm understands and if it can enjoy its brief hour of 
 diminutive triumph, let it, for there are worms and 
 worms, and to-morrow it dies and is never missed." 
 
 ' ' Who calls you a failure, Miss Sedling ? ' ' 
 
 "No one has dared as yet. But the glow-worm 
 knows that she is not the moon." 
 
 ' ' You are the brightest star among us, Miss Sed- 
 ling." 
 
 " I am a meteor," the girl rejoined. 
 
 "If you were Miss Meers, you would not speak in 
 that way. I don't doubt that she thinks herself a 
 genius." 
 
 * ' Miss Meers has health and spirit and beauty. 
 She will succeed easier than others. I should call 
 life worth the living if I were like her. * ' 
 
100 LUCKY. 
 
 The others exchanged meaning glances. 
 
 " Always raving over superficiality," remarked Mrs. 
 France. 
 
 " Well, what is the use of always keeping our best 
 admiration for abstractions ? I adore realities. I have 
 always regarded soul as the fountain head of expression, 
 but I have never seen a soul. The outer mask is all I 
 have before which to bow." 
 
 ' ' But there is that subtle something which dis- 
 tinguishes the work of genius from that of the ordinary 
 mortal. Have you no feelings of exaltation in the 
 presence of that ? ' ' 
 
 1 ( I consider that subtle something to be the result 
 of patient, long-suffering labor, experience and observa- 
 tion." 
 
 ' ' Gross materialist ! I am surprised that a woman 
 of your talent should set so little store by it." 
 
 "Well, I'd rather by far possess all the gowns in 
 Madame Rambeau's window at present, than half the 
 stuff, essence, or whatever you call my talent. I 
 always walk that way in order to look at those gowns, 
 which I am ready to fall down on my face before. 
 They transform the bisque figures on which they are 
 draped into goddesses. It is the externals that make 
 life worth living." 
 
 " How about this Miss Meers, anyway? " 
 
 " Miss Meers ? Oh, its been an age since I've seen 
 the child. She doesn't need me now." 
 
 ' ' What does she study ? ' ' 
 
 * ' Drawing principally. She is getting ready for the 
 
THALIA.., ' . ' '" 101 
 
 life class, I understand. , She- attends- the lecti'ai^e^ too, 
 I think, for the Theory.' T 'despise theories.'' T flee 
 from them as from a pestilence. My forte is practice. 
 I don't want books or talks or sputterings which they 
 dignify by the name of criticism. What I want is life, 
 life pure and simple, life with all its beauty and all its 
 ugliness. ' ' 
 
 " You mean for your art work." 
 
 1 ' Certainly. Isn' t art my life ? " 
 
 ' ' You contradict yourself. A little while ago you 
 said you would forego success for a new gown." 
 
 ' ' Did I say that ? Were those my exact words ? 
 Well, let it pass, at any rate. We all contradict our- 
 selves. When a certain passion sways us, we are one 
 being, and when that passes away, we are another." 
 
 ' * Has she any talent Miss Meers, I mean ? What 
 does she intend to make of herself? ' ' 
 
 " I don't know. Her plans are probably not yet 
 well defined. She has simply caught the art fever 
 because it is in the atmosphere. But she will succeed. 
 She was made for success. ' ' 
 
 " Is Mr. Hartman fond of her ? " 
 
 " I believe he considers her a very promising 
 student. However, I have not heard him speak of 
 her often." 
 
 Miss Meers scanned the features of the pale girl, from 
 worn young brow to delicately pointed chin. They 
 were as symmetrical as a marble masterpiece, but they 
 were not beautiful; they were too wan for that. Nana 
 felt that if she had put an obstacle in the way of Miss 
 
102 LUCKY. 
 
 Sedli/ng;$ happiness, she could never forgive herself. 
 
 With a few more comments, the woman in blue and 
 her companion, gathering- up their drawing materials, 
 took their leave, as the clock had struck ten, and they 
 were due at private appointments with an instructor. 
 When they had disappeared through the door, Nana 
 emerged from her hiding place. 
 
 "I have heard it all!" she cried, throwing her 
 arms about her friend, and bursting into tears. 
 
 "Tush! Tush! Don't be volcanic. It doesn't 
 pay," Miss Sedling replied, stroking her hair. 
 
 ' ' But they said they said before you came in, that 
 I was standing in your light, that I was making you 
 miserable. ' ' 
 
 "And you kept hid and listened? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 ' ' That was not etiquette, but it was perfectly proper 
 in the unconventional sense, that is, if you wanted to 
 run the risk of making yourself miserable. I speak to 
 you as to a sensitive plant. When a few more summer 
 suns have showered their scorching light upon you, I 
 can advise differently. But truly, nothing that any- 
 body says is worth the trouble of contradicting. ' ' 
 
 ' ' But if none of it is true, why did you keep your- 
 self from me ? I do need you as much as I ever did. 
 I have been very lonely. ' ' 
 
 ' ' Mrs. Star is your patroness now, and not Thalia 
 Sedling. Mrs. Star is very exclusive and particular. 
 Does she visit you much ? ' ' 
 
 "Very seldom." 
 
THALIA. 103 
 
 ' ' And when she does ? ' ' 
 
 " She is polite and kind." 
 
 " Does she give you much advice?" 
 
 " Yes, about studying hard." 
 
 " Has she said anything about your associates ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 1 ' Well, you see, I was once an actress. There is a 
 prejudice against the calling, you know, especially 
 among persons of Mrs. Star's class. An art school is 
 supposed to be a democracy, and perhaps it is, but I 
 was afraid that your friend, the great lady, might 
 object to me, and I did not want to stand in your 
 l : ght. You have your way to make in the world. 
 Mine is already made." 
 
 Nana looked at her companion admiringly. 
 
 " And you were really an actress," she said. 
 
 " Yes," answered Miss Sedling with a smile. 
 
 "Oh, how I envy you ! How I should like to be an 
 actress ! I think it is the greatest profession in the 
 world." 
 
 "So do I, if there is any profession that is really 
 great. Somehow, I think that the farmer at work in 
 his field has more time for sentiment and romance than 
 we who are supposed to dwell in the midst of it. If 
 the farmer only knew how ! " 
 
 "Some do," said Nana thinking with a pang of 
 Lucky Fielding whom she had set out with all her 
 heart to forget, even if she must force herself to fall in 
 love with some one else in order to do it. 
 
 1 ' But why did you ever leave the stage ? ' ' she in- 
 
104 LUCKY. 
 
 quired after a moment of silence. * ' Did you like 
 painting better ? ' ' 
 
 * ' I have not really left it, though I do not do the 
 work I once did. My health will not permit. I used 
 to play leading comic parts. That is the reason why 
 they call me Thalia. Quite often in the evening, 
 I go as supernumerary when any is needed, to help 
 eke out my income, as my pictures won't sell. It is 
 the life I love. I love the theatre, even its dust and 
 tawdry decorations which newspaper people declare 
 so disenchanting. I love the hustle and bustle behind 
 the scenes. I love to hear the soubrettes quarrel over 
 curling irons and looking glasses, and to peep through 
 a hole in some side curtain to see the audience sob- 
 bing or convulsed with laughter. Whenever I come 
 across the name of an old fellow worker of days gone 
 by, cut or scrawled on the walls of a dressing room, I 
 kiss it as fervently as a heathen does his idol." 
 
 ' ' How odd ! I have heard it said that you had a 
 history." 
 
 * ' So I have. A lady once asked me if I had not, 
 and I told her yes, two of them, a History of the 
 World, and one of the United States. You must 
 come to my room some time and I will show you my 
 box of wigs and masks." 
 
 " How very, very strange ! " 
 
 1 'Not at all. Things may seem so, viewed at a 
 distance, but when you have once Crossed the border 
 and entered the kingdom, all is natural and even 
 commonplace." 
 
THALIA. 105 
 
 " They said that that " 
 
 ''What did they say? Come, confess don't 
 hesitate." 
 
 "That you were Mr. Hartman's favorite student 
 before I came, and that " 
 
 " That I was in love with him. Go on." 
 
 ' ' How did you know ? ' ' 
 
 "How do we know anything? I have five very 
 acute senses. Go on. ' ' 
 
 * ' They said that Mrs. Star was doing for me what 
 she ought to do for you." 
 
 "Nonsense. They don't know what they are 
 talking of. Did you know that Mr. Hartman is 
 engaged to Mrs. Star ? ' ' 
 
 "Is it possible?" 
 
 * ' Everything is possible. Some of the strange 
 things of life would look so strange in a book that 
 people would declare it to be extravaganza. Not that 
 there is anything so very strange about this match, 
 however. Mrs. Star, I suppose, is as desirable as any 
 woman, and we must own that Mr. Hartman is a man 
 to know and worship. At least, the ideal Mr. Hart- 
 man is we may not know the real. But I must bid 
 you good-bye, now, for there goes the half-past ten 
 bell. Can I see you this evening? No, I have a 
 novel -appointment to fill at six, and after that I shall 
 be too tired. But say, would you care to join me in 
 my walk at six sharp ? ' ' 
 
 " Where do you go to the theatre? " 
 
 ' ' No. A little newsboy just starting into business, 
 
106 LUCKY. 
 
 is very ill and afraid he'll lose his few customers. He 
 has only about twenty, but they mean bread to him- 
 self and little brother. I have agreed to carry his 
 papers for him, they are so few, and the customers are 
 quite near together. I know it is not a ladylike thing 
 to do. The ladylike thing would be to shed a few 
 tears, and wish it were not so, or give the little suf- 
 ferer a few pennies, then go off, and forget him. It's 
 a fine lark, bless you. I've done it two nights in suc- 
 cession. Will you come, and treat yourself to a new 
 experience ? ' ' 
 
 ' c Yes. At six, you say ? ' ' 
 
 "At six on the corner of Fifth and K street. That's 
 near the news office where Barney trades. Then, 
 we'll have supper at the Alhambra like two veritable 
 Bohemians. Will Mrs. Star object to your going? " 
 
 " I don't think she'll care. I think she would con- 
 sider that you were doing a very noble thing. I am 
 proud of you." 
 
 The evening was damp and foggy, but Thalia was 
 at the trysting place, walking up and down impa- 
 tiently, when Nana came in sight. She coughed 
 slightly when she opened her mouth to reply to 
 Nana's greeting, and the latter inquired concernedly: 
 
 * ' Ought you to be out, to-night, dear ? ' ' 
 
 ' ' I never fail when I have promised anything. Be- 
 sides, making that little Irish boy happy is worth a 
 year or two of life. You should see his big, feverish 
 eyes shine when I put the pennies into his hand. He 
 would fight all L for my sake, Barney would. But 
 
THALIA. 107 
 
 here is the news office. Notice the puzzled look in 
 the clerk's eyes when I ask him for the papers. I 
 don't explain anything. I like to keep him wonder- 
 ing." 
 
 The papers were duly handed to their rightful 
 recipients, and the supper at the Alhambra was eaten 
 with keen zest. As they stepped into the street again, 
 a thought struck Nana. 
 
 " They say that Mrs. Star has a son," she said. 
 
 " Yes," returned Thalia, " but he's feeble minded. 
 I suppose they have been romancing about him. 
 Were they planning to marry him to either of us ? " 
 
 "I have heard so." 
 
 Thalia laughed, and slipping her hand through 
 Nana's arm, said: 
 
 " We'd better step up. I am afraid it's going to 
 rain." 
 
 The storm overtook them, however, despite their 
 attempt to hasten home, and resulted in Thalia's 
 retiring with a severe cold. On the following day 
 Nana was in the cloak room putting on her wrap and 
 hat to pay the invalid a visit, and receiving messages 
 of condolence to carry in the name of various ac- 
 quaintances, when in walked the object of their com- 
 miseration, looking radiant. 
 
 ' ' Great news ! ' ' she shouted, waving her hand 
 above her head. ' ' My picture has gone to the exhi- 
 bition and will have a good place. I am almost 
 sure of honorable mention. Some have hinted that I 
 may take the European prize. Who'll wager me 
 that I don't?" 
 
IO8 LUCKY. 
 
 1 ' I heard that you were very ill last night. How 
 is it you are here to-day ? ' ' inquired Mrs. France. 
 
 The girl sat down upon the floor, and lifted her eyes 
 to her questioner's face. 
 
 " Last night was last night, and to-day is to-day." 
 
 ' ' But ought you to be out ? Ought you not to 
 wait until you feel better ? ' ' 
 
 " If I did that, what should I ever accomplish ? It 
 would be a longer wait than I dare make, my dear. ' ' 
 
 "Are you better ? " said Nana when the lesson bell 
 rang, and the two were left alone in the cloak room. 
 
 " I don't know. I am told not. The doctor says 
 I must be careful. I trust I shall be. I shall not go 
 to the theatre for three weeks at least. Will that not 
 be a sacrifice? " 
 
 "Three weeks is not a long time." 
 
 ' ' Is it not ? Why, my child, how long are your 
 eternities ? But come to my room. It is not your 
 lesson hour, and I want you to see my den and its 
 contents by daylight. Besides, there is the picture I 
 talked of beginning so long ago, ' The Sweet Briar, ' I 
 mean. I wish I'd done that for the exhibition. I 
 must arrange with you to begin it immediately." 
 
 It was a rare honor to be invited to Thalia's studio. 
 Nana gazed about the poor, half-furnished apartment 
 with the same wonder with which she surveyed every- 
 thing that pertained to Miss Sedling. There were the 
 customary easels and pictures, palettes and brushes; 
 but the paintings on the easels were no more ordinary 
 than was the creator of them. Nana noted two in 
 
THALIA. lOQ 
 
 particular. One, ' ' Waiting for the Cue, ' ' represented 
 a young girl, dressed in pure white, standing in the 
 wing of a theatre, finger on lip, a look of pleased ex- 
 pectation mingled with faint anxiety in her eyes, and 
 one foot advanced ready to spring forward when the 
 signal should come. The other was called * ' The 
 Drop Curtain/' It was evidently a companion piece, 
 for the features of the second woman bore a strong 
 resemblance to those of the first. She lay upon an 
 iron bed in a wretched room, her eyes half closed, and 
 a look of death upon her white, drawn face. 
 
 There were books, poems, . dramas and novels lying 
 everywhere in the studio. A decrepit table stood in 
 one corner, on which was an unfinished manuscript 
 play, a tattered copy of " The Hunchback," scarred 
 by annotations and cutting, and a bust of Moliere. 
 
 1 ' I keep those, ' ' said Thalia in the midst of a fit of 
 coughing, " ' To hold together what I was and am/ 
 as Mrs. Browning puts it. I don't want to get my 
 several separate identities mixed, or to forget that I am 
 I,, if you can understand that better. That is my 
 kitchen and dining-room behind yon curtain. I have 
 an enchanting little coffee-pot, and will show you by 
 and by how well the Muse can brew the popular bev- 
 erage, if I don't forget. Has Mrs. Star scolded you 
 for your last night's folly ? " 
 
 ' 4 No. I have not seen her. Besides, how should 
 she know?" 
 
 ' ' Gossip is like thistle-down ; it flies. Mrs. Star 
 is very well known and I'll wager you that more 
 
1 10 LUCKY. 
 
 people know you, and know that you are the young 
 lady she's educating than you imagine." 
 
 ' ' How do you happen to know so much of her ? 
 Are you personally acquainted ? ' ' 
 
 ' ' I am a sort of step-niece, that is all. I am the 
 adopted daughter of the lady who married her brother. 
 Both are dead now." 
 
 The atmosphere of the room was chilly, and Nana 
 was obliged to shiver now and then. She thought 
 how bad it was for Thalia's cough. She looked at 
 her friend's blue serge, which though still neat, was 
 becoming old and threadbare about the elbows. It 
 made her heart ache to see it. Here was the girl 
 whom everybody called a genius, whose life everybody 
 thought so romantic, sitting before her, pale and worn 
 from the struggle for existence. It moved her to 
 inquire, 
 
 "Do you think Mrs. Star would have done any- 
 thing for you if I had not come ? " 
 
 "No. I am not pretty 3ike you." 
 
 " But you are attractive yes, and you are beauti- 
 ful." 
 
 "In the artistic sense, perhaps sometimes. But 
 you are beautiful in every sense at all times. Don't 
 worry your little head any more. I dare say Mrs. 
 Star would patronize me now in a gingerly way to 
 please Mr. Hartman, if I would allow it. Indeed he 
 has intimated as much to me. But I have depended 
 upon myself so long that I can not bear the idea of 
 reflected glory, Ishmael loveth the desert. Mr 
 
THALIA. Ill 
 
 Hartman thinks me obstinate and Mrs. Star does not 
 insist. The son calls it a * deuced shame,' but his 
 words carry little weight." 
 
 "How old is the son ? Is he really so sadly af- 
 flicted?" 
 
 ' ' He is some twenty four, handsome enough, but 
 in reality weak. Oh dear, let's change the sub- 
 ject! I wish you'd call me Louise, hereafter. That 
 is my own old name. It has been a long time since 
 I've heard it. It seems to me you'd make music of 
 it with that exquisite voice of yours. Some one else 
 used to say it just as you would, I fancy, but that's all 
 gone by now. Look what has taken its place ! " and 
 the girl dragged from beneath her bed a box of wigs 
 and masks, hideous, Nana thought most of them. 
 
 ' ' They have kept my heart from breaking many a 
 time, the darlings ! ' ' cried Thalia, then broke down 
 and coughed again. 
 
 ' ' You think this is dreadful, ' ' she resumed when 
 the paroxysm had passed, laughing in Nana's anxious 
 face. ' ' But I am used to it. It has been several 
 years since I've seen a well day. Through it all art 
 has been my consolation, divine, all compensating 
 art. They have said for some time that I am likely 
 to die but I laugh at them, /die ! ha, ha ! " 
 
 The girl threw her head back against the old plush 
 cushion of the chair in which she sat, and gave vent 
 to a long, low peal of mirthless laughter. 
 
 Presently her expression changed to one of intense 
 agony. 
 
112 LUCKY. 
 
 ' ' I can not die ! ' ' she cried starting forward, and 
 burying her nails in either temple. ' ' I will not die ! 
 I have too much to do ! I love this body, weak and 
 faulty as it is. I don't want to lose my identity and 
 become all soul. I want to be myself, myself! I don't 
 want to dwell in the midst of peace and perfection, 
 I should stagnate utterly. Give me humanity, foolish, 
 perverse, wicked humanity ! Give me the world full 
 of unwritten tragedy and comedy! I'd forego heaven 
 for that!" 
 
 After this outburst she lay back against her cushion 
 for a moment quite exhausted, then rousing herself, 
 began to talk lightly of ordinary things, prepared 
 coffee and tea-cakes for her visitor and behaved as if 
 nothing had happened. 
 
 The exhibition day came. Thalia received her 
 honorable mention with prophecies of the European 
 prize at no late day in her career. Nana found her 
 sitting against a mass of framework in the gallery, her 
 eyes closed and looking very tired. 
 
 ' 'Are you not pleased with your success ? ' ' Nana 
 inquired, taking her hand. 
 
 " What is success?" murmured the pale girl, half 
 to herself. ' ' Success only a clapping of hands, a 
 word or two of congratulation, and you are forgotten. " 
 
 The next instant, she looked up and smiled. 
 
 "Come to my room to-morrow," she said. " I 
 must finish The Sweet Briar.' I wish I had finished 
 it before the exhibition. It might have sold." 
 
 "Are you well enough to paint? " 
 
THALIA. 113 
 
 "To paint you yes. It is not toil but pleasure. 
 I must finish 'The Sweet Briar' then let the skies 
 fall." 
 
 But the picture was never finished. When the 
 next day arrived, Miss Sedling found herself too tired to 
 do good work, and dismissed her model at the end of 
 an hour. She did not explain that for two days she 
 had been living on strong tea and hope hope that 
 her prize picture " Evening at Bethlehem," would 
 sell. When night came, she dragged herself out of 
 bed where she had spent the afternoon, and contrary 
 to her resolution not to do so until the end of three 
 weeks, she went to the theatre to earn the dollar which 
 would sustain her for several days longer. The exer- 
 tion, together with an added cold, was more than her 
 weakened frame could endure. It brought on a 
 relapse, and the young artist was so ill that the care 
 which could be given her in her room was deemed 
 insufficient, and she was removed to a public ward of 
 the city hospital. 
 
 Here several days later, the curtain fell on Thalia 
 Sedling' s life. 
 
 There was a great sensation at the Academy. 
 Students gathered about in the halls, talking in 
 whispers. The class rooms were draped in black, and 
 Mrs. Star very kindly brought flowers for the funeral. 
 A reporter interviewed Mr. Hartman, and soon after, 
 the story got abroad, and there began to be a great 
 demand for the pictures painted by the girl who had 
 lived and died so romantically. Alas that romance 
 should be so hard to live ! 
 
1 14 LUCKY. 
 
 At the grave, Bernard Star stood beside Nana. Her 
 beauty was softened into almost saint-like loveliness 
 by the solemnity of the hour. When the services 
 were at an end, he turned to her and said : 
 
 "You are Miss Sedling's friend, are you not the 
 original of ' The Sweet Briar ' ? I should know you 
 anywhere." 
 
 " I am Miss Meers," the girl returned. 
 
 " It is a shame," he went on, walking beside her as 
 she started to leave the cemetery ' ' I always told 
 mother so. I admired Miss Sedling very much. 
 Will you be my friend for her sake ? " 
 
 Nana held out her hand, which was warmly pressed 
 by the son of Mrs. Star. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 AT THE ROYSTER FARM. LUND COMES 
 INTO HIS INHERITANCE. 
 
 " A NY news?" inquired Mrs. Royster of Lund, 
 f\ as he came in with heavy, dragging step, and 
 threw himself into a chair. Her voice was more 
 metallic than ever, her eyes more sunken, and her 
 face more sallow, the result of anxious days and sleep- 
 less nights. 
 
 She had never loved Nana; but the girl was gone, 
 and the weight was upon her conscience. In com- 
 mitting an error, we never dream how poignant will 
 be the repentance which is sure to follow the failure of 
 our plans. 
 
 Lund had no news. 
 
 "Well, I'm sure it ain't my fault," she whined, 
 rocking to and fro; then unable to bear the gnawing 
 weight upon her soul, she burst out with: 
 
 " Do you think it is my fault? " 
 
 Lund shook his head dismally. It was an equivo- 
 cal gesture. She felt that it did not absolve her. She 
 had never had any respect for Lund, and she had none 
 now, but the heart in distress cries out to the nearest 
 living creature at hand, even though that creature be 
 a dog. The brain tired out with fighting its own 
 battles, seeks elsewhere for an ally to buoy up its 
 
1 16 LUCKY. 
 
 courage a day, an hour, a minute longer; recklessly, 
 hopelessly often, as a drowning man clutches at a 
 straw. 
 
 Bub Royster came home a little later. He too had 
 been searching for the missing girl, but had waited for 
 a chance to ride from the Bend with a neighbor, 
 whereas Lund had come on foot. Bub hated Nana, 
 and but for the urging of his mother and Rose Dolby, 
 would have been heartily glad to let her go. Joe 
 Slocum dropped in about the same time to inquire as 
 to the success of the search. He was a shrewd man 
 and his advice was of much service. As far as his 
 knowledge extended, Joe Slocum was not bad. He 
 could see no reason why Nana should have anything 
 against him. He had always been good to her, and 
 had intended to make her a kind husband; but since 
 she had taken such means to rid herself of him, he 
 wished he had let her have her own way. Aside from 
 his admiration for Nana, he had regarded the affair as 
 a very legitimate business transaction, but there was 
 still man enough in him to recognize that she had 
 some right to think in the matter, now that she had 
 taken it in defiance of circumstances. 
 
 Of Lund's loss and sorrow, we need not speak. It 
 was unvarnished and sincere. 
 
 Rumor had spread about the settlement that Lucky 
 Fielding had gone to the Upper Missouri, to get him- 
 self a wife. Nevertheless, he returned from his trip 
 without one, determined to confess the object of his 
 deception to Nana, who by this time should have had 
 
AT THE ROYSTER FARM. 1 17 
 
 ample opportunity to miss him, and mend her 
 manners. He was accustomed to easy victories in all 
 matters, and expected the same thing here. His 
 arrogance soon received a telling blow. Nana had 
 never spoken to him of her one-sided engagement to 
 Joe Slocum. Since her entrance into young woman- 
 hood, it had become but a dim memory to her. Lucky 
 listened in utter amazement to his sister's account of 
 Nana's trouble and her wildly courageous act; then 
 notwithstanding all former quarrels, he repaired to the 
 Royster's to inquire more fully into the affair, and join 
 them in their endeavor to recover the missing one. 
 
 Lund saw him coming, and met him at the door. 
 They shook hands, and Lucky was conducted forth- 
 with into the midst of the family council. He was 
 joyfully received by Mrs. Royster, but Bub's greeting 
 was sullen and morose. Lucky did not care. He 
 sat down among them to talk the matter over. 
 
 4 ' It beats me how the kid could have kept out o' 
 sight so long," mused Joe Slocum sadly. "She 
 hadn't no acquaintances in the city, had she? " 
 
 "No," answered Bub. 
 
 " Maybe she's dead," suggested Mrs. Royster with 
 a wail. 
 
 Bub cried down this idea. Nana was a girl who 
 could look out for herself. Joe Slocum seconded this 
 confident affirmation. 
 
 " It is a sad case, a sad case," went on Slocum in 
 tones of apology to Lucky, "but I can't see what 
 we're to do. We've tried everything." 
 
Il8 LUCKY. 
 
 "Except the ounce of prevention," Lucky was 
 about to say, but checked himself as he recollected 
 that he too was not blameless in the affair. 
 
 " Let's advertise again," suggested Lund. 
 
 " 'Twon't do any good," said Bub. "And adver- 
 tisin' costs money." 
 
 ' ' Never mind the money ! ' ' shrieked Mrs. Royster 
 hysterically. " If money will find her, use it. Take 
 everything I've got ! The Lord knows it wa'n't my 
 doin's. I did as well by the girl as I could I did as 
 well as I knew how." 
 
 All looked at her. 
 
 " Be quiet, mother," said Bub. 
 
 " Who said you was to blame? " Slocum inquired. 
 
 ' ' I can tell by the way he looks at me that he thinks 
 so ! " she cried indicating Lucky with one bony 
 finger. ' ' I can tell by the way they look at me, ' ' 
 with a scared glance in the direction of Slocum and 
 Lund. 
 
 ' ' Mother, ' ' said Bub savagely, ' ' do hush. ' ' 
 
 "He told me on his dyin' bed," she continued; 
 "he told me, but I didn't heed but I swear I hain't 
 been all to blame I hain't been all to blame ! " 
 
 All eyes were riveted upon her face, the features of 
 which were set and white as those of the dead. Pres- 
 ently she sank on her knees trembling and moaning: 
 
 "O God, strike me dead strike me dead this 
 minute I deserve it, but I hain't been all to blame! " 
 
 Consternation reigned. Joe was first to act. He 
 brought a cup of water which he dashed into her face, 
 
AT THE ROYSTER FARM. 1 19 
 
 then called the girls, and Mrs. Royster was carried 
 away still raving, and protesting her innocence. 
 
 ' ' Never let the women into anything, ' ' Bub 
 growled. "They always make a fuss. We're in a 
 bad enough mess already without having it made 
 worse. ' ' 
 
 "She shows some heart though," said Slocum, 
 "and that's more'n I ever give her credit fur." 
 
 A renewed search for Nana was immediately begun. 
 They advertised in the papers again, and set the 
 police to work; but these men seemed to look every- 
 where but in the right place, and Nana Meers con- 
 tinued to follow her life in the beautiful suburbs of L, 
 striving to forget that she had ever been anything else 
 than pretty Miss Meers, student of the Palladian 
 Academy of Art. What omniscient policeman would 
 have thought of looking for such a girl there ? Nana 
 was changed too, for she no longer wore her hair in 
 curls, and her brown cotton delaine dress and sailor 
 hat had long since been consigned to the flames. 
 They would never have known her, at any rate; and 
 by some freak of the goddess who presides over our 
 destinies, neither she nor any of her acquaintances 
 had come across the notice in the L dailies, inquiring 
 
 for information concerning her. 
 
 * * * * * * 
 
 It was midwinter. Bub Royster had gone to town 
 for the mail, and Lucky Fielding, having returned 
 from a long and fruitless search for Nana, had called 
 at the Roysters' to talk with Lund, not because he 
 
1 20 LUCKY. 
 
 had any respect for the fellow, but because Lund was 
 the only one who seemed to regard him as the girl's 
 best friend. It pleased Lucky to be so regarded, no 
 matter from what source. 
 
 As they sat together to-day, Lund made a startling 
 confession. 
 
 * ' I loved her, ' ' he said with a growing light on his 
 long, gaunt features. ' ' I loved her as well, likely, as 
 you. I didn't know how to show it, but I did the 
 best I could. It didn't do any good, and it never 
 would. She loved you. You're bright and hand- 
 some, and Vier style. She'd never think of marrying 
 a fellow like me." 
 
 Lucky was touched by these words. He felt that 
 he ought to reply, but did not know what to say; so 
 of course he blundered. 
 
 " She might have, Lund. You don't know." 
 
 "You're a tryin' to fool me," Lund returned. 
 "You're a tryin' to be kind, and I'm much obliged 
 to you. But I know. I -love the little *un, and 
 inany's the time I've thought of her, and prayed to 
 God with tears in my eyes. I didn't pray for what I 
 knew couldn't happen, but I wished the angels might 
 have a kindly eye to her while she was there without 
 friends and without a home. And I wished that by 
 and by she might be found and brought back to be 
 your wife, Lucky, for I know she' d be happy so. ' ' 
 
 Lucky never prayed. He had faith in his own 
 strong will, his indomitable perseverance, but not in 
 prayer. The passing years had almost obliterated the 
 
AT THE ROYSTER FARM. 121 
 
 religious beliefs of his boyhood. He no longer had 
 trust in a guiding providence, but looked upon man 
 as a creature born into the world to take his chances 
 whatever they might be. He did not deny the exist- 
 ence of a supreme being, nor of a life hereafter; but 
 he expected no reward until that life should come, 
 when souls stripped of the fleshy mold that holds them 
 imprisoned, should stand free of all environment that 
 tends to stunt or distort, to grow into shapes divine like 
 unto their creator. In this, Lucky was inconsistent as 
 we all are. The belief, which he called sensible and 
 liberal, but which is yet open to attack as being vision- 
 ary, did not teach him charity for the Roysters, or 
 else he was willing to reserve his admiration for them 
 until the time should come when they should deserve 
 it. The fact is, he did not spend much of his life 
 looking beyond his daily duties. They surrounded 
 him, he could see them, they were realities. Many a 
 time of late he had been discouraged, and even now, 
 he felt that he was hoping against hope. He had no 
 more respect for Lund than he ever had, but some- 
 how as he surveyed the great awkward fellow sitting 
 there in the hazy light of the winter afternoon, his 
 haggard face bowed upon his hands, and his lank form 
 quaking with emotion, Lucky 's heart softened and a 
 mist gathered before his eyes. He held out his hand. 
 ' * Old man, ' ' he said with more warmth in his voice 
 than was his wont when addressing Lund, " you're a 
 trump. To-morrow we' 11 start out to search for her 
 again, and we'll start together." 
 
122 LUCKY. 
 
 All day it had threatened storm. Bub Royster 
 had not yet returned. His mother was filled with 
 anxiety lest it should overtake him on his way. Lund 
 and Lucky still sat by the fire, talking of Nana when 
 a mingled rush and roar fell upon their ears, the 
 meaning of which they knew, and in another instant 
 the room was so dark that they could scarcely see 
 each other. 
 
 " I wonder if he can be out in this ? " said Lund, as 
 he rose to light a lamp. 
 
 Lucky did not reply. It was no affair of his. Bub 
 Royster was at liberty to take care of himself, as far 
 as Lucky was concerned. 
 
 There were a few fierce puffs of wind that shook the 
 house and caused the shutters to rattle with a dreary 
 sound. Then the storm bore down steadily, carrying 
 the snow, which had lain for days on the ground, 
 before it. Rain began to fall, and to freeze as it fell. 
 Lund shivered as he listened to its beating against the 
 pane. 
 
 Presently Mrs. Royster entered with her apron over 
 her face. 
 
 " Oh, my boy, my boy ! " she wailed. " You that 
 I've toiled and suffered for you that I've lied and 
 sinned for to think you've got to die like this!" 
 She broke into a fit of hysterical sobbing. 
 
 Lund turned to Lucky. (< Pore thing ! " he said 
 sympathetically. 
 
 " You pity her, do you?" was Lucky' s incredulous 
 retort. 
 
AT THE ROYSTER FARM. 123 
 
 "Yes, I do," returned Lund, "and I'm goin' out 
 to see if he's on the road. It'll ease her mind, for I 
 can find my way around the country better than most 
 people, I've been about so much and know it so well. 
 Besides, he's apt not to be quite himself after he's 
 been to town. 'Tain't always so, but sometimes." 
 
 " You're a fool, Lund," said Lucky. " Think how 
 bad he's treated you." 
 
 "Yes, I know it," returned Lund, "I know it. 
 I've been kicked and cussed and starved by him, and 
 I know it would serve him right, but I can't let him 
 die out there like a dog, with his mother's cry in' in 
 my ears." 
 
 Lund got his ragged overcoat and put it on ; turn- 
 ing to Lucky, he said : 
 
 " Maybe I shan't come back alive, and if I don't, 
 tell her I loved her better'n my own life, and would 
 have died to save her trouble." After which, opening 
 the door, he plunged out into the storm, muttering to 
 himself: " It would serve him right, for the way he's 
 treated her and the way he's treated me ; but I can't 
 let him die out there like a dog." 
 
 On he stumbled, through snow-drifts knee-deep, 
 striking now and then a hidden wagon rut that tripped 
 and almost threw him, struggling against a fierce 
 wind that nearly took away his breath, with nothing but 
 instinct to guide him in his choice of route. In all his 
 twenty years of life on the prairie, Lund had never 
 seen so mad a storm, yet he had no thought of turning 
 back. 
 
124 LUCKY. 
 
 He had traveled about two miles, when the wind, 
 blowing directly in his face, brought to him a sound 
 which was something like a groan. He quickened 
 his pace, shouting aloud as he did so, but the wind 
 carried his voice in an opposite direction. 
 
 Then his feet struck against some object in his path; 
 stooping over, he felt with numb fingers the garments 
 of a man. 
 
 "Bub, Bub Royster!" he shouted, shaking the 
 prostrate form with all the strength he possessed, 
 " Here, rouse up ! your mother's a cryin' her heart 
 out for you at home. Come, rouse up ! " 
 
 After much effort on the part of Lund, Bub, for it 
 was he, regained interest enough in life to struggle to 
 his feet, muttering drowsily meanwhile. 
 
 " Pity you can't let a fellow alone." 
 
 ' ' Do you know where you be ? " urged Lund. 
 "Come, wake up, and step forward; lively now! 
 Think about your mother and Rose Dolby think of 
 Rose!" 
 
 Thus he dragged his bitterest enemy along, out of 
 the very jaws of death. The wind had shifted about, 
 and blew directly in his face again. His task was no 
 easy one. Bub hung like a dead weight upon him, 
 he felt his body becoming weary with its prolonged 
 effort, and the storm was rapidly increasing in fury. 
 
 It seemed that they had traveled for hours, when 
 Bub, who had been slowly recovering from his fit of 
 stupidity, said in hopeless tones: 
 
 "It's no use. We're lost. We might as well give 
 up." 
 
AT THE ROYSTER FARM. 125 
 
 Lund had for a long time been oppressed with the 
 same fear. He stood still for a moment to collect his 
 thoughts, and, peering forward in the blinding snow, 
 caught the red gleam of a light. 
 
 " Look ! there's a house ! " he cried joyfully, "and 
 it ain't more'n thirty rods away, I'll be bound ! Don't 
 you see the red fire through the window ? ' ' 
 
 The house from which the firelight came happened 
 to be farmer Dolby's. It was Rose who welcomed 
 them at the door. She was appalled when she came 
 to know how near her lover had been to death, and 
 overjoyed at his rescue. More fuel was thrown upon 
 the fire, which blazed up invitingly. Bub was imme- 
 diately wrapped in soft blankets, and lay sipping hot 
 drinks prepared for him by loving hands. 
 
 Lund looked yearningly at the fire, but did not sit 
 down. The Dolbys pressed him to stay, but he shook 
 his head. 
 
 " Take care o' him. He needs it worse than me," 
 he said. " I must get home and tell his mother. She's 
 nigh gone crazy a worryin' over him." So saying, 
 he lifted the latch, and in spite of their protests, started 
 for home. 
 
 "Do you suppose anything will happen to him?" 
 asked Rose breathlessly when he had disappeared 
 from sight in the thick of the flying snow. 
 
 "Never fear," answered Bub carelessly. "He 
 knows the prairie like a horse does. He'll get home 
 all right." 
 
 Rose brightened at this hopeful assurance, and in 
 
1 26 LUCKY. 
 
 the joy of her lover's society soon forgot Lund. 
 
 Meanwhile Lund was plodding along in the snow. 
 The storm showed no signs of abating. The wind 
 shifted rapidly from one direction to another, and the 
 drifts piled themselves higher and higher in his path. 
 
 He did not realize that he was cold. Indeed, he 
 felt very warm now. A little fringe of icicles, caused 
 by his congealing breath, gathered round the edge of 
 his hat and on his eyelashes, but he did not trouble 
 himself to brush them away. 
 
 As he tramped on, he felt his limbs grow heavy,and 
 a sensation of drowsiness crept over him. The feeling 
 grew, until he became quite dazed. Finally his feet 
 seemed stationery, and he felt himself gradually sink- 
 ing into the drifts. He struggled feebly for a moment 
 to extricate himself, then lay down, thinking to rest 
 and get breath before resuming his journey. 
 
 The snow drifted over him, and he went to sleep. 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 MRS. STAR-HARTMAN. 
 
 MR. HARTMAN was becoming dreamy and 
 abstracted. As the girls of the Academy put 
 it, he walked with his head in the clouds. Ever and 
 again, a tender smile played round his lips, that was 
 not for anything he saw or heard. Now and then he 
 was absent from the class room, and Miss Thatcher 
 substituted in his place. It was whispered among the 
 students that he was rehearsing for his wedding, which 
 was to take place in the Protestant Episcopal Church 
 very soon. 
 
 Nana listened while the others chattered of the prep- 
 arations, the account of which they had read in the 
 society papers, where even the mysteries of the 
 designated rehearsals were dragged forth to pander to 
 the public appetite. Nana heard with an indescribable 
 sensation of spiritual nausea. Innocent, and full of 
 that romance known chiefly to youth, that sentiment 
 which if not divine, borders closely upon divinity, she 
 felt the artificiality of the proceeding to the core. It 
 was too much like preparing for a show, she thought. 
 It seemed unworthy of a man like Mr. Hartman. 
 Marriage to her was a sacred ordinance, and anything 
 else than spontaneity and simplicity attending its 
 details was a profanation. 
 
 127 
 
1 28 LUCKY. 
 
 But when the wedding day arrived, the excitement 
 of the hour possessed her, and she almost forgot her 
 former feelings. She received her invitation to be 
 present at the ceremony along with the other students. 
 She had expected as a protge of Mrs. Star, an 
 invitation to the grand ball to be given at the residence 
 of the bride in the evening, but none came. She 
 wondered at this; she was fond of dancing, and could 
 dance as well as the best. Bernard Star was an 
 enthusiastic admirer of hers and a warm friend. Why 
 had she received no card ? 
 
 Truly, Bernard Star had been a friend. He had 
 sent her costly bouquets every week, and had called 
 even oftener than Nana liked. He was a handsome 
 fellow worthy the brush of a painter. The girls at the 
 Academy had nick-named him "The Adonis in 
 Broadcloth." Yes, he was very fine to look at, and 
 with many persons his physical beauty was enough to 
 atone for his quite perceptible weakness of character. 
 Wealth too, covers such a multitude of sins. Bernard 
 Star was considered everywhere a "good catch." 
 
 Nana was not worldly; it was not that Bernard Star 
 was rich that she gave him a thought. She was 
 endeavoring to crush out her old love, and her heart 
 reached forth to the shadow of a new infatuation as a 
 welcome anodyne. She was young, and if she ac- 
 cepted the attentions of Mrs. Star's son in this spirit, 
 who can blame her? 
 
 Nana had never been asked to the house of Mrs. 
 Star except for private interviews with that lady. 
 
MRS. STAR - HARTM AN. I2g 
 
 Mrs. Star was even ignorant of her son's regard for 
 the girl. He knew his mother and was afraid of her and 
 Nana's name had never passed between them. Mrs. 
 Star had undertaken Nana's education because Mr. 
 Hartman had requested her to do so; she had under- 
 taken a financial, not a social responsibility and she 
 had no notion of undertaking the latter. She was a 
 social queen and wanted no rival in her little world. 
 If she were jealous of Nana's place in Mr. Hartman' s 
 regard it was not policy to show it. 
 
 The wedding was gotten through very satisfactorily. 
 The bride was lovely enough to suit the most fastidious 
 critic, and the bridegroom was proud and nervous as 
 bridegrooms are wont to be. Nana sat in her seat 
 with tense muscles, watching him sympathetically as 
 the ceremony proceeded. When at last it was safely 
 over, and Mr. and Mrs. Hartman had entered their 
 carriage, she breathed a sigh of relief. 
 
 She had hoped up to the time the grand ball began 
 that she had been overlooked, and that an invitation 
 and apology for the delay would yet come. She was 
 disappointed. In the evening, several of the Academy 
 girls proposed a stroll past the house where the fes- 
 tivities were going on, as sidewalk room could not be 
 prohibited them, and they purposed using all the 
 privileges they possessed. 
 
 Nana scorned the idea as indelicate and common, but 
 finally her curiosity got the better of her sense of 
 propriety, and she consented to go. 
 
 The party outside was not a whit less merry than 
 
1 30 LUCKY. 
 
 the one indoors. They promenaded by twos up and 
 down in the cool air, fanning themselves with boughs 
 picked from the bride's own ornamental trees. They 
 criticised to their fill each coming guest, enjoyed the 
 lights in the windows and on the lawn, drank in the 
 music as it floated across the garden, and let their 
 hearts swell with the measures, just as if they had a 
 right. The abandon was delicious; even Nana 
 forgot herself in the intoxication of it, and laughed and 
 talked as loudly as the others. Still she reproached 
 herself as she laid her head upon her pillow that night. 
 It was an extremely rude and improper thing to do. 
 Mr. and Mrs. Hartman were her friends. They had 
 simply overlooked her in sending invitations, and she 
 had behaved in a very ungrateful manner towards 
 them. 
 
 A week or so after, at the breakfast table, Bernard 
 Star, more at his ease than usual with his mother 
 because of the presence of Mr. Hartman, remarked in 
 his lazy, drawling fashion: 
 
 ' ' Why was not the beautiful Miss Meers at the 
 ball ? You surely invited her, mother? " 
 
 1 ' Indeed I did not ! ' ' was the rather sharp reply. 
 
 "Ah," the son continued, "that accounts for it; I 
 wondered why she was with those girls who were 
 looking on from the street. I took it as almost an 
 insult, by Jove, but now I don't wonder." 
 
 1 ' How do you know she was there ? ' ' 
 
 ' ' I heard her laugh. I would know it among a 
 thousand. ' ' 
 
MRS. STAR-HARTMAN. 131 
 
 " Hum ! I was not aware that you had the pleasure 
 of the young lady's acquaintance. Where did you 
 meet her, pray ? " with a sarcastic smile. 
 
 "Almost anywhere but in my mother's drawing- 
 room. Why do you treat her so, mother ? Are you 
 not her friend ? Don't you admire her? " 
 
 " No, I do not and I trust that you, Bernard, will 
 use the little common sense you have, and not go to 
 falling in love with her in earnest. If you have 
 merely carried on a flirtation with her somewhere and 
 somehow, all well and good; I hold flirting to be an 
 innocent amusement. However, you must make up 
 your mind to break it off at once, as I consider her a 
 dangerous person to tamper with, inasmuch as she is 
 apparently so fascinating and you so easily led. You 
 must make a match that will not shame your family. ' f 
 
 Mr. Hartman looked up quickly. He was begin- 
 ning to discover a new phase in the character of his 
 charming wife. 
 
 "What can you mean, Sara?" he inquired. "I 
 certainly thought Miss Meers had been invited to the 
 ball, and was somewhat hurt because she did not 
 come." 
 
 Mrs. Hartman shot a swift glance towards her lord 
 and master. "Men do not understand women as 
 women do each other," she replied dryly. 
 
 "Can you not be more explicit? What can the 
 child have done to deserve ostracism ? " 
 
 " Child ? A pretty old child ! " exclaimed his wife 
 with raised brows. 
 
132 LUCKY. 
 
 "She is only seventeen," Mr. Hartman replied 
 quietly. 
 
 * ' Seventeen ! She is twenty if a day, and she has 
 the worldly wisdom of fifty. She reminds me of an 
 adventuress in a play." 
 
 Mr. Hartman paled with suppressed anger. His 
 wife's words and tone were disappointing and exasper- 
 ating. It was the first time he had caught a glimpse 
 of the sly little moth that had eaten into the white 
 feathers of his angel's wing. 
 
 " I insist upon less enigmatical statements," he said 
 emphatically, rising from the table as he spoke. "I 
 thought you were the girl's friend, Sara." 
 
 This was terrible ! To have her son' s heart ensnared 
 was bad enough, but when her husband began to 
 defend a woman against the attack of her tongue, 
 matters had gone entirely too far. She must make a 
 telling shot. 
 
 " I have promised to befriend her certainly, dear," 
 was her sweet response. ' ' You discovered her talent 
 and naturally I wanted to please and aid you. But 
 that does not put me under obligations to acknowledge 
 socially a woman of whose past life I am entirely 
 ignorant. ' ' 
 
 Mr. Hartman was somewhat appeased by the softly 
 flattering tone and fondly proud smile of the woman 
 he adored. 
 
 "I think you are a trifle too strict, Sara," he 
 replied in a milder voice. " Miss Nana has little past 
 to speak of, and I consider her one of the most simple 
 and honest young ladies of the Academy." 
 
MRS. STAR-HARTMAN. 133 
 
 ' ' But you must own that she is not refined. How 
 about the bad breeding she exhibited in passing up 
 and down before our house in company with a pack of 
 other loud creatures the night of our wedding ? I con- 
 sider it disgraceful, and should I introduce her to our 
 friends, would she not time and again put me to 
 shame?" 
 
 " Could you not help to form her manners? Is not 
 her behavior in this matter to which you refer her only 
 offense?" 
 
 ' ' No ! Not by any means ! News was brought 
 me several months ago how she one night in company 
 with a person of questionable position, went out and 
 peddled newspapers on the street." 
 
 Mr. Hartman looked sober for a moment, then 
 resumed the defense of his favorite student. 
 
 " It may be all a mistake. It is all a mistake I feel 
 certain. Besides, Sara, if the girl is inclined to be 
 erratic, she is all the more in need of your personal 
 supervision all the more in need of love and kind- 
 ness. She should not be living unchaperoned in a 
 boarding-house. Why don't you bring her here, and 
 treat her as a daughter ? ' ' 
 
 Worse and worse ! What would the blind, mis- 
 guided man suggest next ? 
 
 ' ' Really, my dear, for a man of your experience, 
 your ignorance of human nature is astonishing. You 
 are so good yourself that you can not believe ill ot 
 others. / train the girl ? She would not allow her- 
 self to be trained. She has a most ungovernable tern- 
 
134 LUCKY. 
 
 per, depend upon it. All such undisciplined creatures 
 have." 
 
 " Nevertheless I think we ought to try, Sara," said 
 Mr. Hartman, letting his hand fall caressingly upon 
 her crispy, golden hair. 
 
 Mrs. Hartman smiled up at him with tears in her 
 bright little eyes. Her last sip of tea had gone wrong 
 in her gulp of desperate indignation, but no matter, 
 the tears it brought would serve another purpose. 
 
 "I will promise, to please you dear," she replied 
 with a kiss. 
 
 The newspapers escapade had been reported to 
 Mrs. Hartman by an acquaintance shortly after its 
 occurrence, but that lady had smiled indulgently and 
 let it pass. It was only a girlish freak. Now how- 
 ever, it would be an excellent tool in her hand, for she 
 had set herself about to pick a quarrel with the girl 
 and anger her into bad behavior that she might have 
 an excuse for maintaining the position she had taken 
 with regard to her protegee. She accordingly sum- 
 moned Nana to her at once. 
 
 11 What is this I hear? " she began in a high-keyed 
 voice freighted with displeasure. * ' You have been 
 betraying my confidence, and acting both ungratefully 
 and unbecomingly. Mr. Hartman is very much dis- 
 pleased as well as myself." 
 
 4 'What have I done?" inquired the girl. She 
 had in her surprise quite forgotten her behavior the 
 night of the ball. 
 
 ' * What have you not done ? Miss Meers, I thought 
 that you were a lady." 
 
MRS. STAR-HARTMAN. 1 35 
 
 " I hope I am, Mrs. Hartman, and I am sorry that 
 I have done anything to displease either you or Mr. 
 Hartman." 
 
 The other woman sneered slightly, and continued: 
 
 "Is it the mark of a lady to go past the houses of 
 her benefactors with a mob of loud young women 
 creating a disturbance, when a reception is going on ? " 
 
 Nana flushed. " Indeed Mrs. Hartman," she said, 
 11 1 have wished again and again that I had not done 
 it, though the young ladies with whom I walked were 
 not loud, only good-natured and so full of life that 
 some of it must bubble over. They meant no harm. 
 They did not know they were disturbing any one. 
 There were only six of us. ' ' 
 
 "And six too many. I trust that I shall never be 
 obliged to complain of such conduct again, or really 
 Miss Meers, if I should, Mr. Hartman insists that 
 something must be done. He said he was afraid that 
 you were becoming wild and in need of strict super- 
 vision. ' ' 
 
 Her look and tone would have incensed a less spir- 
 ited girl than Nana. She blushed to the roots of 
 her hair feeling how unjust was the accusation, 
 but she said nothing. 
 
 "I don't wonder you hang your head and keep 
 silent," her tormentor went on. 
 
 This was more than Nana could endure without a 
 protest. 
 
 " I think you are very unkind, Mrs. Hartman," she 
 said. " Is this not the only thing I have been guilty 
 of?" 
 
136 LUCKY. 
 
 ' ' No, ' ' said the lady impressively. ' ' News has 
 lately been brought me that you you, Miss Meers 
 were seen a while ago in company with a low person, 
 peddling newspapers on the street. Do not deny it. 
 I have it on good authority." 
 
 "I do not deny it, only I will say that I did not 
 peddle the papers and that I was not in any low com- 
 pany. It was a deed of kindness to a little sick news- 
 boy, not my idea, but that of the lady who was with 
 me." 
 
 1 'And who, pray was the ahem lady ? ' ' 
 
 ' c Thalia Sedling, ' ' Nana replied in a reverent half 
 whisper. 
 
 "That bold creature! That actress!" Mrs. 
 Hartman shrieked. 
 
 "Mrs. Hartman," said Nana, " I can not let any- 
 thing be said to me against my dead friend, the woman 
 that you, least of all, should speak ill of." 
 
 Mrs. Hartman winced. "I am astonished, * ' she 
 returned, with all the dignity she could summon up, 
 " I am astonished Miss Meers, at the way in which 
 you talk to persons who are older than you. ' ' 
 
 " I can't see how age has anything to do with it. 
 We are all bound to respect the dead, and I will say 
 one thing more. If you knew Miss Sedling as I knew 
 her, you could not fail to acknowledge, if you were 
 honest about it, that she was a better woman than 
 either you or I." 
 
 With this parting fling, Miss Meers turned abruptly, 
 and left the room. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 THALIA'S OLD STUDIO. 
 
 MRS. HARTMAN was only fifteen years older 
 than her handsome son, and looked almost as 
 young and fresh as he. She had taken life easy, and 
 it left her at thirty-nine plump and rosy, with the 
 same careless, girlish toss of head that had captured 
 the hearts of many a luckless swain in the days when 
 the city of L. was new. She was her mother's daugh- 
 ter, and had married early as girls in new countries 
 where women are scarce are apt to do, the man who 
 among her suitors had the largest bank account. He 
 was more than thrice her age, and she was early 
 widowed. Sorrow sat lightly upon her. Tears shed 
 in a lace handkerchief lose half their bitterness. 
 
 The widow had not been anxious to choose a sec- 
 ond mate. Her weeds were becoming ; she had all 
 of the world's goods that she needed ; she could af- 
 ford now, she told herself, to wait and marry for love. 
 She was surrounded by admirers of all classes whose 
 adulation was even more sweet to her than that of 
 those who did her homage when she was a debutante. 
 With some persons, capacity for enjoyment increases 
 with the years. Mrs. Star was one of these. 
 
 Such was Sara, the social goddess, when she met 
 Mr. Hartman, king of the little art world of L. Like 
 
 137 
 
138 LUCKY. 
 
 others of her type, she was easily captivated by any- 
 thing that was called genius, providing it was coupled 
 with a pleasing personality. Mr. Hartman, in turn, 
 was fascinated by her beauty and apparent power, her 
 youthful airs that were so refreshing, her artistic gowns 
 and luxurious atmosphere, and so as stories usually 
 end, they were married. 
 
 It was at the tea-table the evening of the day on 
 which Mrs. Hartman had talked with Nana. 
 
 "I told you so ! " exclaimed the brilliant lady as 
 she met her husband's inquiring glance. " That girl 
 is uncontrollable. I sent for her this afternoon to ad- 
 vise with her in a friendly way, and see if my influence 
 could soften her in any degree, but she met me like 
 a thunder gust, spat fire at me like a little dragon. 
 She was impertinent, not to say insulting." Mrs. 
 Star's voice failed here. She sat back in her chair 
 and fanned herself vigorously. 
 
 ' ' What did she say Sara ? ' ' Mr. Hartman inquired 
 gravely. 
 
 ' 'What didn't she say? Oh that I should ever 
 have been born to listen to such words from one I've 
 tried to help ! She accused me of dishonesty, of 
 dishonesty, Mr. Hartman, and declared that the 
 woman who sold papers on the street with her was a 
 better woman than I ever thought of being ! ' ' Mrs. 
 Hartman closed her eyes with a gasp and slight shud- 
 der. 
 
 " I am so sensitive," she continued with a sigh. 
 " Poor ma used to say that I'd never live to see forty, 
 
THALIA'S OLD STUDIO. 139 
 
 things affected me so. I wonder the little hussy didn't 
 strike me in the face. She looked as though she 
 might any minute, but I bore up bravely and said my 
 say as gently as I could under the circumstances. I have 
 tried to help the girl, I have indeed, Mr. Hartman. 
 I have done my best, I've done all she'd let me do ! " 
 She plied her fan again, and moaned slightly. 
 
 "Don't distress yourself so, my dear," answered 
 her husband with sorrow and affection. " You must 
 eat your supper and so must I. Let us dismiss all 
 unpleasant topics for the time. Later on we'll see 
 what can be done. I am sorry, I am truly sorry that 
 I should have been mistaken in the girl, and should 
 have urged your undertaking in the first place any- 
 thing that could perchance turn out annoying to you. 
 I must insist on her making you a proper apology " 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Hartman, do not be rash ! The girl will 
 never apologize. She would die in the street first. 
 They all would, those untrained creatures. I have 
 undertaken to educate her and she has been pampered, 
 pampered mind you, and it would be too cruel to 
 throw her upon the world after that. I v/ill still be 
 her benefactoress, but I must insist upon placing 
 money in the bank at her disposal, and allow my 
 lawyer to transact all business between us. I really 
 can't see her again never ! " 
 
 ' * How generous you are Sara, ' ' said Mr. Hartman, 
 reaching across the table to stroke the white jeweled 
 hand that was busy with the tea-cups. His wife gave 
 him an affectionate smile, and peace reigned again in 
 the Star- Hartman establishment 
 
140 LUCKY. 
 
 Bernard Star, who had been sullenly munching a 
 crust of dry bread, quite indifferent to its taste, so 
 that it kept him occupied, looked on with silent dis- 
 approval ; but he was afraid of his mother and ven- 
 tured not a word. 
 
 Nana had gone home feeling tired and old. She 
 had walked very fast, had almost run. When she 
 caught sight of her white face and glassy eyes in the 
 hall mirror, she paused a moment to assure herself 
 that the reflection was really hers, after which she 
 hurried to her room and threw herself upon a couch to 
 think. Think ! Her head was bursting with the 
 surging thoughts that jostled one another in her brain. 
 Life what was its object ? The only answer to that 
 question her heart would give seemed to be, " We 
 are born to suffer." 
 
 She had been ready to love Mrs. Star as a mother. 
 She had craved her love and guidance. She needed 
 it. She had never known a mother's love, and the 
 hope that another woman's might take its place had 
 been very sweet to her. 
 
 Then too, she was under obligations to Mrs. Hart- 
 man. Her weary eyes wandered about her rooms. 
 They were furnished according to her taste, and were 
 everything that an artistic soul could wish ; but she 
 would not, could not keep them now. How could 
 she? 
 
 " I am only seventeen/' she said, turning heavily on 
 her bed, ' ' only seventeen yet how old I am ! I have 
 lived a lifetime. Oh Louise, Louise, how fortunate 
 you were to die ! " 
 
THALIA'S OLD STUDIO. 141 
 
 The sound of her dead friend's " own old name" 
 seemed to give her courage. She sat up, and pushing 
 back the hair from her hot forehead, began to plan for 
 a change of living. She knew of a place where she 
 could get orders for painting Christmas cards, and 
 now and then a design for a fan to make. She could 
 have Miss Sedling's old, undesirable quarters for six 
 dollars per month, and could cook her own food as 
 Thalia had done. Perhaps she should soon die as 
 Thalia did. She cared little what became of her ; life 
 was too disappointing and difficult. 
 
 The shadows began to gather in the room. Nana 
 did not realize how late it was. She let an hour and 
 a half more go by without stirring,and was very much 
 surprised when the bell in the town hall rang out 
 seven, and the chambermaid knocked at the door to 
 ask if she did not intend coming to supper. 
 
 Mrs. Hartman had not reckoned the strength of the 
 mettle with which she had to deal. On the following 
 day, Nana sought a private interview with the husband 
 of the great lady, her old instructor and friend. He 
 met her with a grave, severe face. Nana had never 
 looked into his eyes before except to meet a smile. 
 She understood the situation. 
 
 " Mr. Hartman," she began somewhat timidly, " I 
 have something to say to you. ' ' 
 
 ' ' By what I have been hearing, I should judge that 
 you ought to have," was the cold reply. 
 
 " I want to tell you something," she went on, her 
 sense of justice rising to help her in that trying 
 
142 LUCKY. 
 
 moment. " I want to speak to you because you have 
 been a friend, and I care for your good opinion. 
 What I have to say may do no good. It probably 
 will not; but I want to know if you are aware who the 
 woman was that your wife objected to my associating 
 with, the one who, as she puts it, sold papers on the 
 street?" 
 
 " I do not know," said Mr. Hartman. " I judged 
 by what I heard that it was some chance acquaint- 
 ance. ' ' 
 
 "It was Thalia Sedling." 
 
 Mr. Hartman looked up with a start. 
 
 "Impossible !" 
 
 " No, it is not impossible. You know and I know 
 that no truer heart ever beat than hers." 
 
 " I know it," replied the artist softly. 
 
 ' ' She carried papers to nineteen or twenty houses 
 to help a little Irish boy who was ill with a fever." 
 
 Mr. Hartman looked uneasy. He fingered the 
 cardboard and brushes on the table before him with 
 nervous hands. 
 
 "Mrs. Hartman must have made some mistake," 
 he stammered. " She was probably misinformed." 
 
 " She made no mistake," said Nana. " I told her 
 who my companion was and also the purpose of the 
 act. As Thalia herself said, it was not a ladylike thing 
 to do. The refined and cultivated way to dispose of 
 the case would have been to shed a few tears or give 
 the little fellow a penny or two, and after that leave 
 him to lose his customers and starve." 
 
THALIA'S OLD STUDIO. 143 
 
 Nana's voice rang through the room like a paean. 
 Her friend was dead but the strength of her spirit 
 lived in the girl whose life she had helped to shape. 
 Tears gathered in her instructor's eyes. The deed 
 and the words were so like Thalia Sedling that he 
 could not doubt the truth of the story. He coughed 
 to help cover his emotion. 
 
 1 ' It must have been a mistake Mrs. Hartman 
 could not have understood," he repeated helplessly. 
 
 "She did understand. I told her plainly enough 
 for anyone to understand. Do you not understand 
 me perfectly ? ' ' 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Is Mrs. Hartman' s understanding less acute than 
 yours ? ' ' 
 
 "Ahem, ahem!" coughed Mr. Hartman. "Indeed 
 Miss Nana, don't you think you are inclined to be a 
 trifle hard on Mrs. Hartman ? She has befriended 
 you, she wishes you well. She was very much 
 grieved at your manner and words yesterday and 
 and" 
 
 1 ' What was my manner and what were my words ?' ' 
 
 Mr. Hartman hesitated and looked perplexed. 
 
 ' ' What were my words ? ' ' Nana repeated, glaring 
 at him like an irate and determined Nemesis. 
 
 ' * Well ahem ! Didn' t you accuse her of being 
 dishonest and ' ' 
 
 " It is false. My words have been twisted around 
 to make a better story." 
 
 ' ' Ah do you realize Miss Meers, that the lady of 
 
144 LUCKY. 
 
 whom you are speaking is my wife ? Do you forget 
 that she has been your protectress? What possible 
 wish could Mrs. Hartman have to injure you ? ' ' 
 
 "That I can not tell; but she has one." 
 
 "As I said before, Mrs. Hartman was very much 
 grieved. But she is willing to let by-gones be by- 
 gones and forgive you if there is indeed anything to 
 forgive. I myself do not doubt that there has been 
 much misunderstanding all around. I think it would 
 be better to let it all pass. Mrs. Hartman will still be 
 your friend. She told me last night that she would. 
 She is very generous and ' ' 
 
 ' 'And one thing more I will say, ' ' Nana interrupted, 
 ' ' I came this morning chiefly to tell you that Mrs. 
 Hartman' s generosity will not be taxed any more by 
 me. I have found employment and will hereafter 
 take care of myself. I have arranged to occupy 
 Thalia Sedling's old room, with the same privileges 
 that she had, and will move my few belongings there 
 to-day. The things purchased with Mrs. Hartman' s 
 money, she may take charge of or leave alone as she 
 pleases. I shall make no more use of them." 
 
 "Are you ahem ! Are you not a trifle hasty? 
 Had you better not take time to reflect ? Think of 
 the life you are choosing one full of disappointment 
 and deprivation. Think of Miss Sedling's early 
 death " here something choked him, and Nana was 
 given an opportunity to answer. 
 
 " I have thought of it all, but my mind will never 
 change. ' ' 
 
Night found Nana duly installed in the little bare 
 room once occupied by the one whose home was now 
 the white, silent city of countless inhabitants. The 
 moon looked down through the sky-light upon her 
 uninviting couch in the corner. There was the 
 faded little curtain behind which Thalia had kept her 
 small oil stove and cooking utensils. The floor had a 
 rag mat on it, and but for that was wholly uncovered. 
 The clicking of her shoes upon the wood as she 
 walked about, filled the girl with loneliness. The 
 apartment was so empty and still that it seemed alive 
 with echoes made by the sound of her every move- 
 ment. She had half expected to feel the old dear 
 influence of her friend's presence, which was one of 
 her chief reasons for choosing the place; but it was not 
 there, the comforting superstition was dispelled, and 
 into her heart crept in its stead, a feeling of desolation 
 for which the echoes showed no mercy. 
 
 The bread of freedom was not sweet to Nana, and 
 the tea prepared by her own hands was insipid and 
 vile. The first night of her emancipation was not a 
 happy one. She felt no thrills of joy at thought of 
 liberty. She saw life stretching out before her monot- 
 onous and blank. She had not Thalia Sedling's self- 
 nurtured stoicism to help her bear it. Her coarse 
 pillow-case formed the acquaintance of salt water that 
 night if it had never before known the lachrymal fluid. 
 
 All night she listened to the rumble of car-wheels 
 and whistle of engines, for the house in which she had 
 taken up her abode was not many blocks from the 
 
146 LUCKY. 
 
 railroad. She heard the town clock strike every 
 hour. Just as the day began to break, she fell asleep, 
 and was awakened about eight o'clock by a rapping 
 at the door, and a voice calling: 
 
 * ' Miss Sedling I would say Miss Meers the 
 postman has been here and has left two letters." 
 
 Nana received the creamy perfumed envelopes, and 
 listlessly broke the seals. The first one read: 
 
 Nana, my dear child, we were all mistaken. My husband 
 has thoroughly investigated matters and has found out the 
 exact truth of the story. You should not have been so hasty, 
 darling girl. I know it was the result of your impulsive 
 nature, or I should never forgive your last step. Come back 
 to us. We cannot do without you. Can you do without us ? 
 Can you renounce an easy path to your desired goal ? I was 
 just contemplating inviting you to my house as soon as your 
 period of severe study should be over, to introduce you to 
 society as my daughter, my very own little girl, when this 
 dreadful thing occurred. Will you not consent to forget it 
 all, as we all wish to do ? 
 
 Your loving friend , 
 
 SARA HARTMAN. 
 
 The other letter was addressed in a long effeminate 
 hand. It was from Bernard Star. 
 
 MY DEAR Miss MEERS : 
 
 Jolly, what a lark ! I have been chuckling for an hour 
 over it. It is good as anything I ever read in Puck, by Jove! 
 The mater is squelched if she ever was in her sweet life. To- 
 day, the pater came home stern and cold as an icicle, and 
 told her in firm tones that she'd made a mistake about you 
 and would better write and take everything back. The 
 mater shed tears but the pater remained unmoved. The 
 
THALIA'S OLD STUDIO. 147 
 
 mater's afraid if she brings you to the house I'll marry you, 
 by Jove, and she is right. The pater is a trump ! He has 
 good strong principles and I admire him, with all my soul, 
 even if he is my step pa, don't you know. By the beard of 
 Mahomet the Just, the show that we had here was better 
 than a base ball game. The mater will write and ask you to 
 come to our house and you are to be a debunte, and what a 
 dear little one you'll make, by Jove. But I shall not allow 
 you to have many fellows dangling after you, even if I have 
 to fight a duel with every man in L. Now, Nana, be good, 
 and come back to us. You showed lots of pluck by leaving, 
 and I admire your policy. I couldn't believe my eyes you 
 had so much. It was just the proper thing to bring them to 
 their senses. I would never have dared to go on loving you 
 if the mater had not changed her key-note. You see how it 
 would have been all round if things had not come about just 
 so. I should have had to be miserable all my life. 
 
 There is going to be a Russian Tea at the Palladian to- 
 night as I suppose you are aware. I will send you some 
 flowers, and meet you at the table. Sorry I can't come 
 before, but I've premised a fellow to go fishing this afternoon, 
 and won't be back till late. 
 
 Yours forever in word and deed, 
 
 BERNARD STAR. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE CAMP MEETING, AND WHAT AN OLD 
 BOOK TOLD. 
 
 AT the Royster farm things had gone on as usual 
 with but few variations. Lund lay buried out 
 among the hills he loved so well. Rose Dolby had 
 been made happy by at last receiving her father's con- 
 sent to her marriage with Bub, for Mr. Dolby was 
 touched by his daughter's loyalty, and had given in. 
 Lucky Fielding went about haggard and hopeless. 
 Ever and again he made another fruitless excursion to 
 the city; not the slightest clue of Nana could be found. 
 
 Time served only to strengthen his devotion. She 
 was gone, he was at fault, he loved her. These were 
 the thoughts that seldom left his mind. Was she 
 dead, or worse than that was she alive and struggling 
 under burdens too hard for one so young to bear ? 
 Perhaps by this time, she had forgotten him and loved 
 some one else. The thought was bitter. 
 
 As he sat disconsolate one evening in the gathering 
 twilight, he thought of Lund, and wondered how she 
 would feel did she know the fate of her childhood's 
 nearest companion, especially did she know how he 
 had loved her. After a time, Lucky rose, and strolled 
 listlessly over the hills to the lonely mound which 
 marked the silent dwelling place of the boy whose life 
 had been meek even to weakness. Long he stood, 
 
THE CAMP MEETING. 149 
 
 contemplating the narrow rise of earth; a tear gathered 
 in his eye, and rolled down his cheek. At length, he 
 turned slowly away, and started back home by the old 
 freight road. He had not gone far when the sound of 
 voices rang out loud and clear singing enthusiastically: 
 
 "Follow, follow, I will follow Jesus, 
 Anywhere, everywhere I will follow on." 
 
 It was an itinerant religious organization known as 
 the "Crusaders," who had pitched its tent on the 
 hillside and was calling in from all quarters of the 
 settlement both scoffer and repentant sinner, the one to 
 make sport, the other to drink in with thirsty hearts 
 the good news brought by these self-forgetting evan- 
 gelists. 
 
 Lucky had not intended to visit their meetings, but 
 finding himself thus close at hand, he drew near 
 partly from curiosity, and partly because his heart was 
 sad from loss of Nana and subdued by thoughts of 
 Lund. 
 
 As he approached the tent, he saw the form of Rose 
 Dolby, her face bowed upon her hands, and near her 
 knelt Mrs. Royster, alternately groaning and wiping 
 the tears from her lusterless eyes. Bub was here, 
 leaning against a post, his countenance hard and im- 
 mobile. A white- faced girl in blue gown and poke 
 bonnet was pleading with him, but Bub was as rigid as 
 Mahomet's mountain. 
 
 In the rear of the tent, another blue-gowned woman 
 was kneeling by the side of a particularly sinful man 
 who had come from Elk Bend "to see the show." 
 
I5O LUCKY. 
 
 He was a frequenter of the one little gambling den at 
 the Bend, and woe to any man who took a hand 
 against him in "high five." Billy Wonder would pay 
 for all the drinks, if only the stakes were high enough. 
 This woman now arose and spoke. Her voice was of 
 a pure reverberant quality, and as it thrilled through 
 the tent, Lucky Fielding bent forward listening 
 eagerly. 
 
 " My friends, here is a fellow-man who bids me 
 speak for him. He has sinned deeply and has deeply 
 repented. He is not ready as yet to declare his sal- 
 vation, with his own tongue, but bids me tell you that 
 he has cast all his burdens at the feet of the Lord, and 
 has been given in return that complete rest of heart, 
 that peace which passeth understanding. Oh my 
 friends, you who are world-weary, you who are heavy 
 laden come now, and like our happy brother here, 
 take upon yourself the yoke of Him who was meek 
 and lowly, and learn how easy it is to bear. Why 
 will you remain troubled, why will you remain over- 
 burdened when He has promised to bear it all for you, 
 and give you all you ask of Him ? ' Whatsoever you 
 ask in My name believing, that will I do,' saith the 
 Lord." 
 
 ' * Praise God ! ' ' was echoed through the crowd, 
 and Lucky awoke from a moment of almost absolute 
 oblivion to surroundings, to find himself kneeling 
 among the rest with this prayer surging to his lips, 
 
 "Oh Lord, I've been a sinner, I've been a rank 
 sinner, but from this day forth, I'll be a better man. 
 
THE CAMP MEETING. 151 
 
 Forgive me if you can, and give me back my little 
 girl." 
 
 The prayer was never breathed aloud, for at this 
 instant, a terrific shriek rose from one corner of the 
 tent; looking up, he saw Mrs. Royster erect and 
 clinging to the tent ropes with one hand, while the 
 other was raised beseechingly to heaven. 
 
 "O my God!" she cried in agony, "Spare me 
 just a little while! Spare me, wicked sinner that I am, 
 and I'll promise that I'll tell all all ! " 
 
 Every eye was upon her, and the tent was still as 
 death. Bub was beside her in a twinkling. Loosing 
 the fiercely clinging hands, he muttered something 
 about the woman's being crazy, and bore her away 
 
 like a child, through the crowd and out of the tent. 
 * # * % * * 
 
 Whatever else the meeting may have done for 
 Lucky, it had lifted up his heart and renewed his 
 hope. The dusk of the next day found him again in 
 the city following his quest. His search was not 
 methodical now as it used to be. He asked no aid of 
 the police. Instead of watching shop doors at the 
 end of working hours, or those of churches before and 
 after service, he loitered about the streets at random, 
 scanning the faces of persons he met. He made few 
 inquiries. They had never done any good. The 
 unuttered prayer of yesterday kept welling up in his 
 heart. Now and then he smiled bitterly at his own 
 folly. ' * Fool, to think miracles are going to take 
 place in an American city near the end of the nine- 
 
152 LUCKY. 
 
 teenth century ! Such things were for another age 
 and other men. Do you expect to bribe God to 
 change his plans, by promises of future goodness, 
 fool? What will your prayers amount to when 
 Lund's were of no avail ? God helps those who help 
 themselves. Stop this nonsense, and have some aim 
 and reason in your work. ' ' These were his thoughts 
 as he roamed about. When he first entered the 
 streets of L. that day, he had in truth, expected to 
 meet Nana face to face. His period of religious 
 exaltation began to wane, and he laughed now, at 
 what he called his superstition. 
 
 Thus he had been walking the tiresome streets for 
 about three hours, when he fell into a little by-way, a 
 sort of connecting link between two more business-like 
 places. He was beginning to feel faint from hunger 
 and weariness, and to wonder concerning the shortest 
 cut to some comfortable lodging-house, when he came 
 upon a little rickety old building, so desolate and 
 tumble-down even beside the others, that he felt 
 almost sorry for it; with its rugged storm-battered 
 face, it looked to him almost human in its wretched- 
 ness. It was only his mood, of course, that made it 
 appear so. The dim light of a gas-lamp in front of it 
 fell upon the sign : 
 
 OLD BOOKS, 
 
 CHOICE TEN CENTS. 
 
 Lucky had no thought of purchasing, but moved by 
 his innate love of books, he began to turn over the 
 dusty volumes. There was pne of an unusually inter- 
 
THE CAMP MEETING. 153 
 
 esting title. He picked it up to examine its pages, 
 when all at once he noticed in dim penciling on one 
 of the margins a handwriting which he thought he 
 knew. Holding it to the light, he studied it closely, 
 and by perseverance was enabled to decipher the 
 characters. It was the name and address of Nana 
 Meers. 
 
 " What do you want ? " gruffly inquired the owner 
 of the store, perceiving the length of Lucky' s stay, and 
 beginning to grow suspicious. 
 
 " Nothing," Lucky replied in a tone that sent the 
 unsophisticated bookseller into a spasm of blind won- 
 derment, " Nothing in the world." 
 
 Lucky did not take time to consider whether this 
 was only a remarkable coincidence, or an indirect 
 answer to his prayer. He was no longer tired, no 
 longer hungry. Like a newly freed prisoner, he sped 
 over the ground only stopping now and then to inquire 
 the way of some astonished denizen of the side streets 
 in which he so often found himself. Another half- 
 hour, and he was at the door of the house where Nana 
 had lodged after her departure from the Bonds' , pre- 
 vious to her acquaintance with Mrs. Star. 
 
 ' ' I can' t tell you where she lives now, ' ' the woman 
 who answered his ring replied to his eager questioning. 
 "Are you a friend of hers ? " 
 
 "Yes," Lucky answered, his heart sinking again. 
 * * I am an old friend from the country. I haven' t 
 seen her for a year and am very anxious. Didn't she 
 tell you where she was going? " 
 
154 LUCKY. 
 
 "She did but I forget. Margaret, Margaret!" 
 she called turning back into the hall. 
 
 A young woman very shortly appeared wrapped in 
 a shawl. She had a wheezy voice, and carried a 
 saucer with some smoking cubeb berries in it. She 
 eyed the stranger curiously. 
 
 "Where did that Miss Meers go to after she left 
 here ? ' ' woman number one asked. 
 
 Woman number two stared at Lucky again, and 
 answered with much hesitation: 
 
 "Let me see. I have forgotten the street and 
 number, but I know that she's gotten rich since. 
 She's been adopted by some wealthy lady, I believe. 
 She's been studying to be an artist down at the Palla- 
 dian Academy, corner of K and Fifth Street. You 
 are a friend of hers from somewhere, I suppose." 
 
 "Yes, an old friend." 
 
 "You wouldn't know her now I guess. I've heard 
 she's become quite a lady," the woman continued, 
 plainly evincing her eager delight in watching the 
 changes of expression that swept one after another 
 over Lucky' s countenance. In an instant, she had 
 read the story, and was smacking her intellectual lips 
 over it, with the keen relish of a mental savant. What 
 after all is gossip ? Just a supply originated to fill the 
 demand of the soul for morsels of life. Let no one 
 deny his appetite for it. It is moral salt. That it 
 may be taken in too large quantities for the health is 
 true, as it is with other condiments. 
 
 " You might go down to the Academy,and inquire. 
 
THE CAMP MEETING. 155 
 
 They sometimes have night classes I believe, and 
 somebody there, perhaps, could tell you where she 
 lives now." She almost wished she could ask him to 
 come back and let her know the result, but she dared 
 not. 
 
 Lucky turned away not half so light of heart and 
 foot as he had come, to seek the art building on the 
 corner of K and Fifth Street, as directed. Nana had 
 become rich ! She was now quite a lady ! How 
 would she receive him, the friend of her less pros- 
 perous days ? She probably had lovers by the score. 
 He would see her at any rate, assure himself of her 
 happiness, then if all were well he would go back to 
 Elk Bend and try to rejoice in her good fortune. It 
 was better than to find her dead or suffering, at any rate. 
 
 When he reached the Academy he found it ablaze 
 with light, for the Russian Tea was in progress. 
 Sounds of music and dancing issued from the 
 windows. As Lucky paused before the street door, 
 which stood ajar, he saw a lady and gentleman de- 
 scend the hall stair. There was something familiar, 
 yet unfamiliar about her. Was it Nana? It was 
 taller than Nana, but yes it was she. 
 
 They stood underneath the great chandelier in the 
 hall. She spoke and smiled up at her escort, who 
 took her hand and began to fasten her glove. He 
 plucked a rose from her corsage, and they both laughed 
 at something he said about it, after which they de- 
 scended to the street and passed on. Lucky had 
 only intended to look at her and go away, but he 
 
156 LUCKY. 
 
 could not bring himself to do it. He could not let 
 her go yet. He must keep her in sight a little while 
 longer, then he would leave her and return home 
 alone. He dropped in behind the couple, and fol- 
 lowed them. 
 
 They had reached a small building surrounded by a 
 picket fence, in the outskirts of the city. A pale light 
 gleamed from one of the upper windows. "That is 
 my studio," Lucky heard Nana say. 
 
 " Deuced bad looking place. You mustn't stay 
 there long," said her escort. " Do you intend to ? " 
 
 " I don't know," Nana answered somewhat sadly. 
 
 Her hand was upon the gate, but she was prevented 
 from opening it by her companion, who put his arm 
 about her, and drew her to him. This was too much for 
 Lucky. Forgetting all his good resolutions, he 
 stepped out of the darkness, and stood before them. 
 
 "And this is what I've spent days and nights the 
 past year searching for ! Nana ! ' ' 
 
 They looked at him, the one in surprise, the other 
 in blank amazement, but not for long. There was an 
 expression of mingled love and pain in Lucky' s face 
 that was unmistakable. Nana did not wait to weigh 
 pros and cons, or to think of the wife he was to have 
 brought from the Upper Missouri. All that she 
 remembered was that he was there and that she loved 
 him. Releasing herself from Bernard Star's embrace, 
 she ran to Lucky with outstretched hands. 
 
 " Oh, Lucky ! " she cried sobbingly, " I love you, 
 I love only you ! Life is dreary, everything is dreary 
 take me home ! " 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 ALL THINGS COME ROUND TO HIM WHO 
 WILL BUT WAIT. 
 
 MRS. ROYSTER had astonished the settlement. 
 She had told a story which had set tongues to 
 wagging with unwonted velocity. She had had dreams 
 and visions, she said. Her dead husband had ap- 
 peared to her, and commanded her to reveal all; so 
 it gradually came out that all the Roysters possessed 
 in the world was not theirs by right, but the property 
 of Nana Meers. 
 
 Mr. Meers had been a scholarly man of very reticent 
 manners not conducive to close friendships. He had 
 kept a very good establishment in Philadelphia, and 
 Royster had been his hostler and choreman. When 
 Nana's mother had died, she, Jane Royster, had served 
 as nurse, as she also did when Mr. Meers lay upon 
 his death bed. His decease was sudden and unex- 
 pected, but they had no hand in that, the woman 
 vowed with groans and sobs. His ailment was pneu- 
 monia, and the doctor who attended him could swear 
 that he died a natural death. What Royster did do 
 was this; he forged papers conveying the dying man's 
 property and even the custody of his only child to 
 * ' my trusted servants, Robert Royster and wife. ' ' 
 Mr. Meers had no relatives, so the scheme prospered. 
 
 J 57 
 
1 58 LUCKY. 
 
 The arrangement seemed as suitable as any, to lookers- 
 on. The child might have fallen into worse hands was 
 the comment of acquaintances. 
 
 To avoid any questioning that might chance to 
 occur in the future, they had as soon as possible, 
 moved west, taking the child with them. They had 
 kept her in ignorance of her birth, but she had always 
 been an unwelcome reminder of their guilt. They 
 hated her for this reason, and treated her accordingly. 
 
 By and by, they had purchased the dairy farm and 
 prairie adjoining, and as time went on, they began to 
 forget that their means of subsistence was ill-gotten. 
 Nana came to be looked upon as an interloper, and 
 they had been only too ready to accept Joe Slocum's 
 overtures when he signified his desire to marry the 
 girl, especially since he was willing to pay for her keep 
 while growing up. This was Mrs. Royster's con- 
 fession. 
 
 Bub averred that his mother's mind was failing, and 
 had her locked up in an upper room of the house. 
 There were no proofs against him, only a crazy 
 woman's word, yet all the neighbors believed him 
 guilty, and Bub soon found himself on the verge of 
 ostracism. 
 
 Out under the eaves of her father's house in the 
 cool of the evening, Rose Dolby sat and sewed. Her 
 work was a very interesting garment of fleecy white; 
 but her face was sad for the face of one whose fingers 
 were busy with the seams of her own wedding gown. 
 
 Through the lively discussion going on everywhere 
 
ALL THINGS COME TO HIM WHO WAITS. 159 
 
 concerning her lover, Rose had been singularly quiet 
 and had proceeded as before with the preparations 
 for her marriage. She was as much talked of as 
 Bub, and now and then, on her occasional visits to 
 town, she was stared at and pointed out as ' ' that 
 Dolby girl, the one who is going to marry that Roy- 
 ster." 
 
 If all this hurt her, she showed no sign, and even 
 her mother dared not question her on the subject. 
 
 The sun went down, and across the marshes, came 
 Bub to call upon his betrothed. She had sent for him 
 that afternoon. She responded composedly to his 
 rather sheepish " Good-even," and requested him to 
 sit down by her side. There was a long silence 
 during which he fidgeted, and fumbled his hat brim 
 while Rose remained calm and self-possessed. At 
 length Bub spoke: 
 
 ' ' Now Rose, what on earth do you want of me ? ' ' 
 
 "I've talked to you before, Bub," she answered 
 
 quietly, " and I want to know what you have done, or 
 
 what you intend to do. Have you made it all right 
 
 with Nana Meers?" 
 
 " Hain't done nothin' to Nane, have I ? " 
 " Bub," went on the girl in a firm voice, " I have 
 loved you a long time and have trusted you even when 
 other folks told me I was wrong. I never believed 
 any of the stories about you, but this one I must 
 believe. I can't cheat myself into thinking you're 
 innocent. I can't believe you've done right by your 
 poor mother to call her crazy and lock her up. Oh 
 
160 LUCKY. 
 
 Bub, won't you for my sake do the right thing ? Give 
 Nana what belongs to her, and let's be happy ! " 
 
 " Curse the girl !" growled Bub. "I wish she'd 
 never been born. She's kicked up a hulabaloo all her 
 life, and is likely to go on in the same way till she 
 dies." 
 
 Rose looked at him with cold critical eyes. 
 
 1 * Do you intend to make it all right ? ' ' she asked 
 almost sternly. 
 
 "And make a beggar of myself? " 
 
 " Yes, if it is the right thing to do, and I believe in 
 my heart it is." 
 
 "Now look here, Rose," argued Bub, "what if the 
 money in the first place did belong to Nana's father? 
 Who is it that's improved the farm and made it worth 
 something, and who has housed and fed her ? Why, 
 we've earned the farm and things six times over by 
 the trouble she's caused the past year, the vixen ! " 
 
 1 'And whose fault was it that she made the trouble ? 
 Who gave you the right to sell her to Joe Slocum ? 
 For it was just the same as selling as I see it. ' ' 
 
 Bub cringed for an instant, then stood up and 
 glowered at Rose with all his might. She was 
 becoming domineering and needed to be taught her 
 place. A woman often did. 
 
 " I won't do it," he said in blustering tones, " not 
 for you nor any other woman. You think you've got 
 me under your thumb, but we'll see." 
 
 He was scarcely prepared for Rose's firm reply. 
 
 " Then we must part, Bub," 
 
ALL THINGS COME TO HIM WHO WAITS. l6l 
 
 "Well, part it is then," he retorted, and turning 
 his back upon the Dolby house, shuffled off, expecting 
 fully, however, to be called back before he should get 
 out of hearing; he had so long been accustomed to 
 Rose's forgiving tenderness. 
 
 This time he was mistaken. Rose watched him out 
 of sight with set, determined lips. Presently her 
 mother joined her, and questioned softly: 
 
 l( How much more to sew, dear? " 
 
 Rose answered wearily: 
 
 " I think, mother, I won't sew any more. I'll put 
 this dress away. Somehow, since the day pa brought 
 it home, I've thought I'd never wear it. You remem- 
 ber the time, mother. That was his loving way of 
 consenting to our marriage, mine and Bub's. But 1 
 wasn't happy as I expected to be. There's lots of 
 tears wrapped up in that sewing that no one knows of. 
 Mother, Bub has been here and I've sent him home. 
 We'll never be married at all unless unless he should 
 make up his mind to do the right thing." 
 
 Rose had risen to her feet. Her mother took her 
 cold hands. 
 
 "You have done right, Rose," she whispered, 
 " My brave child, you have done right." 
 
 Rose's countenance changed in an instant. It be- 
 came hard and deadly white, and before her mother 
 could utter another word, she had fallen limply to the 
 ground burying her face in her wedding dress. 
 
 "Don't speak to me!" she shrieked sobbingly. 
 " Don't say a word! I loved him. God only knows 
 
1 62 LUCKY. 
 
 how I loved him. It's no small thing to me, and 
 
 praise ain't any comfort. Don't say a word to me ! " 
 
 ****** 
 
 Lucky Fielding had seen Bub Royster cross the 
 swamp to farmer Dolby's house, and an idea had 
 entered his mind which he soon hastened to put into 
 execution; going into the machine-shed, he brought 
 out the hide of an ox newly cured, to which head and 
 horns were still attached. 
 
 4 'Where are you going?" asked Nana, now his 
 wife, as she espied him walking off with the queer 
 bundle under his arm, chuckling to himself meanwhile. 
 
 " Oh, just to have a little fun with Bub Royster," 
 was the careless reply, and Lucky strode away in the 
 direction of the swamps before Nana could protest. 
 
 It had grown quite dark when Bub began to make 
 his way across the swamps. He was stalking along 
 morosely, his head fallen upon his chest, when he 
 heard the sound of deep breathing at his side, and 
 looking up, he saw a sight that caused a chill to seize 
 the roots of his hair. 
 
 A great hairy monster with long tail and wide- 
 spreading horns stood there close enough to touch. 
 Bub's superstitious fear augmented the horror of it. 
 He would have fled, but the thing spoke, and Bub, in 
 his great fright, felt his feet rooted to the spot. 
 
 " Stop! Bub Royster," said the thing in sepulchral 
 tones, such as Bub had never before heard. M Stop; 
 there's a little business matter that you and I must 
 settle before either of us is a day older. I regret to 
 
ALL THINGS COME TO HIM WHO WAITS. 163 
 
 say that I haven't a card about me, but my name if 
 you care to know, is Satan. We haven't had any 
 previous acquaintance, but you've heard of me, and 
 I've heard of you, so there's little use to stand on 
 ceremony. You know, Bub Royster that you are a 
 bad lot. Well, I'm the man that settles all points 
 that legal processes can't reach, and I'm here to have 
 it out with you. Are you ready for me ? " 
 
 Bub's teeth chattered so that he could not speak. 
 
 "Come now, no dallying!" it went on. "I'm a 
 man of business, and can't waste my time on snivelling 
 little atoms of humanity like you. Are you going to 
 settle up this little muddle you've gotten into, in the 
 right manner, or shall I take you to roast for my Sun- 
 day dinner ? ' ' 
 
 Bub Royster trembled so that he could scarcely 
 move, but finally managed to sink upon his knees 
 before the thing, and, raising his hands in supplication, 
 to exclaim: 
 
 " Oh Satan, oh, good Mr. Satan, let me go ! I'll 
 be a better man from this time on. I swear I will. I'll 
 give Nane Meers the dairy form and all the stuff, and 
 I'll let my mother out. It wa'n't no lie, she told ; it 
 was gospel truth, and I'll fix it up all right if you'll 
 only try me again.' ' 
 
 "Thank you," replied the apparition with dignity. 
 " Do as you say, and I'll not trouble you, but remem- 
 ber that I shall keep an eye on you, and if things are 
 not quite satisfactory to my mind, you'll hear from me 
 again." 
 
164 LUCKY. 
 
 With this it withdrew into a clump of alders near 
 at hand, and Bub was left to pick his way over the 
 marshes still trembling and starting every time the 
 rushes stirred, or a wary frog leaped into its home 
 pool at his approach. A quarter of an hour later, 
 found Lucky Fielding relating to Nana, in the midst of 
 smothered chuckles, his success in the r61e of Beelze- 
 bub's master. 
 
 # # # # * # 
 
 It .was a bright, clear day in the early spring. The 
 hills, from which the dead grass of the year previous 
 had been newly burned, were rich with mottled purple 
 and faint green. 
 
 " Who says we have no beauty of landscape here?" 
 said Nana. ' ' Who speaks of our prairies as bleak 
 and uninteresting ? Look ! every square yard of earth 
 is of a different hue. Lucky, how many shades of 
 purple do you see on that hill ? ' ' 
 
 "It looks all the same to me," Lucky vowed at 
 first. " But no," he added after further scrutiny; 
 " you are right, you are right, little one. There's no 
 less than a dozen, though I never thought enough 
 about it to notice them before. Upon my word, what 
 a girl you are, Nana." 
 
 ' ' So it is in life, ' r went on the little philosopher. 
 " We must look many times before we can see the 
 real beauty of some people. ' ' 
 
 They were ascending by the broad track of the 
 great freight road, the hill on the opposite side of 
 which, Lund lay in his long slumber. Lucky was 
 
ALL THINGS COME TO HIM WHO WAITS. 165 
 
 happy, even gay. He had scored some very brilliant 
 successes politically of late, and the district had begun 
 to talk of him as the future member of the House in 
 the State Legislature. He was a general favorite, and 
 the career which his ambition craved seemed already 
 within his grasp. By his side she too, would shine, 
 his beautiful, talented wife, augmenting his glory. 
 His thoughts were more of himself than of the quiet 
 sleeper beyond. 
 
 "Well, Bub and Rose are married by this time," 
 he remarked carelessly as they walked along; "it's 
 almost four o'clock, and you said the ceremony was 
 to be at half past three. He can't be the hero he 
 used to be in her eyes. I wonder that she marries 
 him. She could have done better. That's what the 
 Hartmans might have said of you, eh Nana? But 
 then as to poor Rose, she loved the fellow, as you do 
 me, perhaps, and since she can't have him with the 
 halo that she used to see around his head, she'll take 
 what she can get, and try to imagine the rest." 
 
 "It is often so," Nana responded. "But do you 
 remember what Mrs. Browning says about such 
 things ? * God keeps a niche in heaven to hold our 
 idols, albeit he break them to our faces, and deny that 
 our close kisses shall impair their white.' ' 
 
 ' ' We don' t have to wait so long as that for our suc- 
 cess and happiness, do we ? Only to think of the good 
 fortune coming to us ! I'm certain to be elected, and 
 you'll come out in the finest gowns any one ever saw. 
 Mrs. Hartmanand that Bernard Star will open their eyes, 
 
1 66 LUCKY. 
 
 I'm thinking, when they see you the wife of a states- 
 man, instead of the stupid farmer they fancy you've 
 married. The State Legislature is only a step, too 
 there's Congress, you know. I'll only have to say the 
 word to get the nomination, when the time cornes. 
 Little girl, with your brains and good looks, you'll 
 queen it over all Washington before you die." 
 
 " I am certainly pleased with your success," Nana 
 answered. ' * God has been very good to us. I some- 
 times wonder why, for there are those who have been 
 more generous and noble, and have gained no praise. 
 Their lives were not full of brilliant colors that chal- 
 lenge the eye, but partook of those rich low tones 
 which the careless observer never discerns. They 
 must be studied to be appreciated, and few there are 
 who will take the pains to do it. ' ' 
 
 Their conversation had been broken by intervals of 
 silence, and by this time, they had reached the lonely 
 mound, about which the buffalo grass was just begin- 
 ning to peep, blade by blade. They paused at the 
 head, where stood a small marble slab on which 
 Lucky read for the first time the inscription which 
 Nana had ordered to be chiseled there: 
 
 LUND 
 
 Aged 20. 
 
 He Was a Hero. 
 
 Lucky looked at Nana. 
 " You mean him," he said at length. 
 She nodded. Lucky moved a step nearer the grave 
 and took off his hat. 
 
ALL THINGS COME TO HIM WHO WAITS. 167 
 
 Just then, across the hill, came a sound of merry 
 voices, and the rumble of wagon wheels. 
 
 From grave to gay, from tears to laughter, from the 
 bed of death to life at its full, this is the rule of mortal 
 existence. We can not sorrow forever. Lucky and 
 Nana turned to greet with congratulations the happy 
 couple who came down the old freight road. 
 
 It was Bub and Rose returning from the minister's. 
 
 THE EN!?. 
 
THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE 
 STAMPED BELOW 
 
 AN INITIAL FINE OF 25 CENTS 
 
 WILL BE ASSESSED FOR FAILURE TO RETURN 
 THIS BOOK ON THE DATE DUE. THE PENALTY 
 WILL INCREASE TO 5O CENTS ON THE FOURTH 
 DAY AND TO $1.OO ON THE SEVENTH DAY 
 OVERDUE. 
 
915210 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY