6 
 
- 
 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN 
 
 BY 
 
 FRANK R. STOCKTON 
 
 Author of " Rudder Grange," " The Lady or the Tiger," " The Late Mrs. Null,' 
 
 "The Casting Away of Mrs. Leeks and Mrs. Aleshine," " The 
 
 Great War Syndicate," etc., etc. 
 
 NEW YORK 
 DODD, MEAD, AND COMPANY 
 
 PUBLISHERS 
 
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the Year 1889, 
 
 BY P. F. COLLIER, 
 the Office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington, D. C, 
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1890, 
 BY DODD, MEAD, AND COMPANY. 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 ON a pleasant morning, at the very end of summer, a 
 man was sitting upon a fence by a roadside. This 
 fence was in that country of low mountains and rolling 
 land which lies along the eastern base of the Virginia 
 Blue Ridge. The air was warm, but not too warm ; and 
 the man liked warm air. The sky was clear and blue 
 without a cloud ; and there was something in the heart of 
 this man which made him love a sky like this. He wore 
 a wide straw hat ragged at the edges ; his shirt was coarse 
 and indicated the color of the soil ; and his trousers of 
 brown cotton cloth were tucked into the tops of a pair 
 of heavy, well-worn boots. He was a poor man, and had 
 very little in this world except a wife and four daughters. 
 But the air was warm and the sky was blue, and he was 
 happy. And, to add to his happiness, there came to him 
 the smell of grapes. The three things that he loved in 
 this world, next best to his wife and daughters, were warm 
 air, blue sky and the smell of grapes. 
 
 The perfume which so pleased this man did not come 
 from grapes growing on their vines, for there was no vine- 
 yard nearer than his own very little one, and this year, the 
 yield being a poor one, his grapes had all been eaten by 
 
4 ARDIS CLAVEKDEN. 
 
 his family. A gentle wind came down a long hill which 
 lay above him, and down the road upon this hillside also 
 came a wagon drawn by a pair of oxen. These, moving 
 much more slowly than the gentle wind, leaned up against 
 each other at such an angle that it seemed a wonder they 
 could keep their feet, and held back the creaking wagon 
 with their unwieldy yoke. By their side walked a negro 
 man who assisted their descent by gently flapping their 
 sides with his long whip, and by alternate commands and 
 objurations, always addressing each animal by his proper 
 name. In the wagon were six barrels filled with grapes, 
 and it was the fragrance from these which came down the 
 hill, and helped to make happy the heart of the man upon 
 the fence. 
 
 " Hello, Shad! " cried the man upon the fence when the 
 deliberately moving oxen had nearly reached him. "Is 
 that the whole of the major's grape crop? " 
 
 "Whoa, Rob! Back, Rory!" cried the driver, mildly 
 accentuating his commands by a tap across the forehead 
 of the near ox. His team having willingly and suddenly 
 come to a stand, the man walked round in front of them. 
 " Yes, sah," he said, " dat's putty nigh de hull crap, 'cep'in' 
 ob course dem wines what Miss Ardis has tied de red 
 strings on. Ef her string hadn't give out I reckon dar 
 wouldn't 'a' been more dan a one-hoss load fer de wine 
 cellar." 
 
 "What does she tie red strings on for?" asked the 
 other. 
 
 "Fo' eat'n' pupposes, sah. Miss Ardis, she's ob de 
 'pinion dat grapes was made to eat, an' not to be squzz 
 up in a press; an' she jes' go through de wineyard an' tie 
 her strings to eb'ry wine whar de grapes looked mos' good 
 to eat; an' you bet, sah, dat when de pickers come to 
 dem wines dey jes' pass 'em by as ef dey was no 'count 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN, 5 
 
 sassafras bushes, an' go 'long lookin' fer wines wid no red 
 strings on 'em." 
 
 The man on the fence smiled. " That was a very wise 
 thing to do," he said. " When you eat grapes you know 
 you have got a good thing, but when you make 'em into 
 wine nobody knows what you're goin' to get." 
 
 " Dat's all right, sah," said the driver, stumping the 
 butt of his whip into the road, " ef you've only got enough 
 grapes to eat comf'ble." 
 
 " Oh, of course," said the other, " if a man has a big 
 vineyard he might as well send what grapes he can't eat 
 to the wine cellar, but what I mean is that he first ought 
 to see that his family have all they want." 
 
 " Miss Ardis she 'tend to dat, sah," said Shad. " Dar's 
 no use ob nobody else gibin' demselves no trouble 'bout 
 dat." And he raised his whip in the air with the intention 
 of starting his oxen. 
 
 "By the way, Shad," said the man on the fence, "is the 
 major sendin' any of his extry grapes to the wine cellar 
 this year? " 
 
 " Dem grapes is all on de wines yit ; an' Miss Ardis 
 didn't tie no red strings on 'em nuther. De major he 
 come an' tas' 'em de fust minute dey was ripe, an' he 
 shuck his head, an' he say: ' Dey ain't right yit!' an' he 
 jes' leabe 'em dar fo' de birds, an' I s'pects dar'll be 
 anudder year ob puttin' stuff inter dar roots an' cuttin' 
 off dar tops, an' p'raps ob grubbin' 'em up an' beginnin' 
 all ober agin." 
 
 " Very like," said the other, " but if the old gentleman 
 ever expects to make that extry wine he's got to stick to 
 his work. You can't do anything in this world if you 
 don't stick to it." 
 
 " Dat's so," said Shad. And with a shout to Rob and 
 a shout to Rory, and a flip of his whip over the sides of 
 
6 ARD1S CLAVERDEN. 
 
 M 
 
 each of them, he again started his creaking wagon on its 
 road to the town. 
 
 If an object in life of the man on the fence was to sit 
 in a somewhat elevated position by a road along which 
 people occasionally passed, he was true to his principles, 
 for he stuck to the fence long after the grape wagon had 
 disappeared round a turn in the road. He was American 
 born, but of Italian .descent. In the early part of this 
 century a great landholder of the neighborhood had de- 
 termined to undertake grape-growing on a large scale. 
 He studied the subject in Italy and the south of France, 
 and brought over several Italian vine-dressers in order 
 that he might introduce into this country a knowledge of 
 the proper culture of the grape. His vines had all died 
 out long ago, but the vine-dressers took root in the soil, 
 and if they did not flourish they multiplied. 
 
 All of their descendants, except the man on the fence, 
 had departed from the immediate neighborhood, but this 
 one had always lived here, and for many years had occu- 
 pied a very small house on a corner of the large farm be- 
 longing to Major Claverden. He cultivated a few acres 
 about this house, and by making himself useful in many 
 ways to his neighbors he earned some money, and, in a 
 manner, supported his wife and family. In regard to his 
 own support he depended almost entirely upon philosophy, 
 and it must be admitted that, as a rule, he fared much 
 better than did his wife and daughters. 
 
 Warm air, a clear blue sky, and the smell of grapes 
 could not come to him in every season, but his philosophy 
 enabled him to remember them and to look forward to 
 them even in the bleakest days of winter. There was 
 never a comforting element in any circumstance and con- 
 dition of his life which he was not able to extract. He 
 had an ingenious mind ; he was skilful with tools ; he was 
 
AKDfS CLAVERDEN. 7 
 
 a good sportsman ; and was well versed in agriculture and 
 vine-growing. Had he done as much as he knew how to 
 do he might have been a moderately prosperous man, but 
 had he worked hard and systematically he would not have 
 been so happy, and thus, without having given the matter 
 much consideration, he had grown into the habit of allow- 
 ing his philosophy to make up the deficits occasioned by 
 his disinclination to hard and systematic work. 
 
 His family name was Bonetti, but this had long since 
 been corrupted by the people in the neighborhood into 
 Bonnet. Only Major Claverden and his daughter Ardis 
 called the man by his proper name. The old major re- 
 membered the grandfather Bonetti, and nothing would 
 have induced him to descend to the use of a corruption 
 of the Italian name. 
 
 The smell of grapes which had hung long in the sum- 
 mer air had almost faded away, when a lady came riding 
 down the hill. She was mounted upon a tall mare ; and 
 in the pasture field, as close to the fence as it could get, 
 there came a young colt, trotting, galloping, stopping, and 
 whinnying to its mother, who occasionally turned her 
 head and whinnied in answer. The lady, who was young 
 and a good rider, came deliberately down the hill, and as 
 she approached him the philosophizer got down from the 
 fence and stood near the road. 
 
 " Good-morning, Miss Ardis," he said, lifting his hat. 
 
 " Good-morning Mr. Bonetti," said she, drawing up her 
 steed. " How is your little girl? " 
 
 " Oh, she's nearly well, thank you," he answered. " I 
 think it was grapes, and as the grapes are gone the child 
 recovers. Nature is a fine physician, Miss Ardis." 
 
 " But if nature had given you more grapes," said she, 
 " she would probably have taken away your child. In that 
 case would you still wish her to practise in your family?" 
 
8 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 Bonetti laughed. " She has treated us very well so far," 
 he said, " and she never sends any bills. So I think we 
 shall, for the present at least, keep on employing her. 
 And by the way, Miss Ardis, do you know what nature 
 would say to you if she happened to be about just now 
 and felt like giving advice? " 
 
 " I haven't the least idea," she answered. 
 
 " Well, it's my opinion she'd say that it wasn't a good 
 thing to let that colt follow you along the edge of the field. 
 It would have been safer to shut him up before you 
 started." 
 
 " Oh, I didn't want to have him shut up such a fine day 
 as this," she said, " and he can't follow me very far, any- 
 way. When he gets down to the line fence he will have 
 to stop." 
 
 " I'm not so sure about that," said Bonetti. " That 
 line fence is pretty shacklin', and right much broken in 
 some places ; and if the colt doesn't get over and follow 
 you to town, it's as like as not he'll break one of them 
 thin legs of his tryin' to do it." 
 
 The handsome face of Miss Ardis grew thoughtful and 
 her dark eyes turned toward the colt, who stood close to 
 the other side of the fence trying to thrust his head be- 
 tween two of the bars. 
 
 " I believe you are right, Mr. Bonetti," she said. " I will 
 go back and have the colt put up." And quickly turning 
 her mare, she set off on a gallop up the hill. 
 
 The colt instantly followed on his side of the fence. 
 Bounding along he kept neck and neck with his mother, 
 his little feet sounding in quick thuds upon the short turf. 
 
 Bonetti stood in the road and looked admiringly after 
 the young lady. "When she's got anything to do," he 
 said to himself, " she goes right along and does it! " And 
 then he walked to the fence and resumed his seat on the 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 9 
 
 top rail. He had a little patch of potatoes which were 
 ready to be dug, and there was a man who lived about a 
 mile and a half up the road who owned a potato hook 
 a much better implement than an ordinary spade with 
 which to dig potatoes and as this man sometimes rode 
 to town in the morning, Bonetti was waiting in the hope 
 that he might see him and talk to him about borrowing his 
 potato hook. If the man should not pass by, Bonetti 
 would walk up to his house; but this, of course, would 
 take time. 
 
 Not many minutes had elapsed before a man on horse- 
 back appeared at the top of the hill, but it was not the man 
 for whom Bonetti was waiting. This was a tall gentleman, 
 fairly well dressed, although his clothes were a little rusty, 
 and he rode a bony horse of a muddy cream color, which 
 hue was so peculiar that having been once seen, this horse 
 could never be mistaken for any other. This gentleman 
 was about forty years old, although his sober dress and 
 the weather-beaten appearance of his features made him 
 look much older. He wore no beard, but the razor could 
 not remove the strong bluish tinge which covered his 
 cheeks and chin, and this also helped to make him look 
 older than he was. 
 
 When Bonetti perceived the new-comer his eyes spar- 
 kled. He would rather see Dr. Lester than twenty other 
 men each carrying a potato hook which he did not intend 
 to use that day. The new-comer brought no suggestion 
 to Bonetti of any one of the three things which he loved 
 next to his wife and daughters, but he and the doctor 
 were both philosophizers and great friends. 
 
 " Morning, Bonnet," said the doctor, stopping his 
 horse. " Can you tell me what sent Miss Ardis back home 
 in such a hurry? She just now passed me in a mad gallop 
 and had scarcely time to give me a word." 
 
10 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 " She has gone back," said the other, " because the colt 
 was following her. She is goin' to have him shut up/' 
 
 "Confound the colt!" said Dr. Lester. And throwing 
 his long right leg over the back of the horse, he dis- 
 mounted, and still holding the bridle in his hand, ap- 
 proached the fence and took a seat on the top rail near 
 Bonetti. 
 
 "If you're goin' .to do any confoundin'," said the latter, 
 " you'd better confound me, for I put it into her head to 
 have the colt shut up. He's too good a colt to run any 
 risks with." 
 
 " Your advice may have been all very well for the colt," 
 said the doctor, " but it was bad for me. When I was 
 more than half a mile away from the major's gate I saw 
 Miss Ardis ride out of it, and I knew by the little yellow 
 mail-bag which she wore that she was going to town. I 
 hurried up, and I am quite sure I should have overtaken 
 her and have ridden into town with her, and perhaps come 
 back with her, if she had not changed her mind and gone 
 charging home." 
 
 "You've good eyes, doctor," said Bonetti, "to see that 
 little bag so far." 
 
 " I have very good eyes for some things," the other re- 
 plied, "and I must say I am disappointed." 
 
 "What is the good of that?" asked Bonetti. "Just 
 stay here and make yourself comfortable till she comes 
 back, and when we see her at the top of the hill you can 
 get on your horse and be ready to go along with her just 
 as you would have done before." 
 
 The doctor settled himself more easily upon the fence. 
 "Yes," he said, "I suppose the best thing to do is to 
 wait." 
 
 Bonetti looked around at him with a little twinkle in his 
 eye. " How long do you expect to wait, doctor? " he 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. II 
 
 asked. " I don't mean here by the road, but before put- 
 ting the question to her." 
 
 The doctor straightened himself up so suddenly that 
 he jerked the cream-colored horse's head from the grass 
 on which he was browsing. "Put the question to her! " 
 he exclaimed. " Do you suppose I could ever be such 
 an inordinate fool as to put the question to Miss Ardis 
 Claverden?" 
 
 " It strikes me," said Bonetti, " that a man feelin' as you 
 do in the direction of any woman would be bound to put 
 the question to her if he had a chance." 
 
 The doctor remained for a moment sitting up straight, 
 and then he settled down again to his former easy posi- 
 tion, his body leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, 
 and his heels on the second rail below him. " Bonnet," 
 said he, " I hoped you had a better opinion of me than 
 that. Who am I to offer to marry a girl like Miss Ardis? 
 What have I got to give her? What sort of a place have 
 I to take her to? Do you suppose she could live in one 
 room as I do, and be content with the meals that old Aunt 
 Hetty cooks for me? I tell you, Bonnet, that if a man 
 like me, pretty well on in years, without good looks, with- 
 out any money to speak of, and who does nothing to earn 
 a livelihood for himself or anybody else, were to propose 
 to marry a young lady who has lived the life that Miss 
 Ardis has always lived, he would commit what I call an 
 impertinent crime." 
 
 Bonetti reflected for a moment. " I reckon you're right, 
 doctor," he said. " The points of the case seem to be 
 on your side. I have heard people say that you never 
 practised on any patient for love or money. Is that so? " 
 
 " That is so, Bonnet," replied the doctor. " I am sorry 
 for it, but it cannot be helped now. It is nearly twenty 
 years since I came back from the University and put my 
 
12 ARDIS CL AVER DEN. 
 
 diploma up on a top shelf in my room. I did not feel 
 myself ready to take people's lives in my hands, and if 
 they sent for me for little things they might send for me 
 for great ones ; and the more I studied and looked into 
 the matter the stronger I felt that there was no reason 
 why I should put myself forward as a practising physician 
 in a country where there were already plenty of good 
 doctors. I used to think that the time would come when 
 I would feel ready to make a start in my profession, but 
 it has not come yet, and it never will. If I had not had 
 a little income, enough for one man to scratch along with, 
 I should have been obliged to take some risks like other 
 beginners ; but that was not the case, and I did not take 
 the risks." 
 
 :i I have noticed," said Bonetti, " that you never so 
 much as state your notions about a cold or a toothache. 
 There isn't an old woman in the county who wouldn't do 
 that!" 
 
 " You are right," said the doctor, " but people are not 
 bound to take advice from an old woman, and they might 
 feel bound to take it from a man who had been graduated 
 from a college of medicine." 
 
 Bonetti smiled. "I reckon, doctor," he said, "that 
 you'd been as good as any of 'em if you had only thought 
 so. But, as you say, that's neither here nor there at the 
 present time. But it seems a little hard that a man of 
 good family who reads as much as you do and who knows 
 as much as you do, and who does as many different kinds 
 of things as you do by day and by night, should have to 
 come to look on himself as you look on yourself." 
 
 "It is hard, Bonnet," replied the other, "but it can't 
 be helped." 
 
 " Doctor," said Bonetti, " suppose Miss Ardis was to 
 come to you and say that she had seen what was in your 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEiV. 13 
 
 mind and knew why you didn't speak it out, and consid- 
 erin' the circumstances of the case she'd do the speakin' 
 herself, and say squarely that she was ready to marry you 
 just as you stood: what would you do then? " 
 
 Doctor Lester gazed steadfastly at the grass beneath 
 him. " In that case," he said, " we will suppose it is in 
 the morning she makes that statement to me." 
 
 "All right," said Bonetti, "we will let it be in the 
 mornin'." 
 
 " Very well," answered the doctor. " I should just sim- 
 ply let myself be the happiest man on earth that morning, 
 and in the evening I'd go and hang myself. I have 
 thought of this thing myself, Bonnet, and that is what I 
 should do. If I waited longer than that evening I might 
 not be able to hang myself." 
 
 " I don't know but you are right, doctor," said Bonetti. 
 " I reckon that hangin' on the same day would be the best 
 thing you could do." 
 
 The doctor made no answer but continued to gaze at 
 the grass. 
 
 "But with things in that way, doctor," said Bonetti, 
 after a little pause, " do you intend to keep on thinkin' of 
 Miss Ardis as you do think of her? " 
 
 " Keep on! " exclaimed the doctor. " I intend to keep 
 on until the end of time at least to the end of my time. 
 I would not say this to everybody, Bonnet, but you and 
 I have talked over this matter so often before, that I don't 
 mind letting you see just how the case stands." 
 
 "It strikes me," said Bonetti, "that it would be wearin' 
 on a man to keep on with a thing like this." 
 
 " It would be a good deal more wearing on me to stop 
 it," said the doctor. 
 
 "Of course it wouldn't do to stop it too suddenly," said 
 the philosophizing Bonetti. " It is like smokin' or any 
 
14 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 other habit, and considering you have had it ever since 
 she was not more than a child, the breakin' of it off is a 
 thing to be careful about." And turning his eyes suddenly 
 toward the top of the hill, he exclaimed: "And here she 
 comes! " But almost instantly added: " No, she doesn't, 
 either!" 
 
 Dr. Lester had let down his long legs preparatory to 
 slipping from the fence, but now he drew them back again 
 and looked up the hill. It was not Miss Ardis who was 
 coming; it was a negro boy on horseback. The two men 
 watched him as he approached. 
 
 " It's the major's boy Tom," said Bonetti. 
 
 The doctor said nothing, but looked steadfastly at the 
 boy, and when he came near enough Bonetti called out : 
 " O Tom ! Where you goin' ? " 
 
 The boy, who carried by a strap over his shoulder, not 
 a neat, yellow leathern bag, but a large and well-worn 
 brown satchel, replied: " I's gwine to de pos'-office." 
 
 " I thought Miss Ardis was goin'," said Bonetti. 
 
 " Yes, san," replied Tom, "she 'tentioned to go, but 
 cump'ny done come an' I's gwine." And with that he 
 rode on. 
 
 Dr. Lester got down from the fence, put the bridle over 
 the neck of his horse, and standing on one long leg, put 
 the foot of the other into the stirrup and mounted. 
 
 "Goin' to town?" asked Bonetti. 
 
 " No," said the doctor, " I have no call to go to town. 
 I reckon I will stop on my way back and have a chat with 
 Major Claverden. That isn't what I expected, Bonnet, 
 but it is better than nothing. Good-morn-ing." And turn- 
 ing his cream-colored steed, he began the ascent of the hill. 
 
 " I almost wish," said Bonetti to himself, " that I had 
 let that colt break its legs. And yet, what would have 
 been the good of it? If the doctor ever gets an extra 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 15 
 
 fair chance to speak his mind to Miss Ardis, it's ten to 
 one he'll forget himself and do it. And if that ever hap- 
 pens, good-by to Doctor Lester! Whether she takes him 
 or turns him off it will be all the same. If he doesn't 
 hang for her sake, he'll do it for his own." 
 
 And then Bonetti, having a superstition that it is un- 
 lucky to wait by a roadside until five persons pass in the 
 same direction, and being oppressed therefore with the 
 fear that should the owner of the potato hook now appear 
 there might be some reason why that instrument could 
 not be borrowed, got down from the fence and went home. 
 
1 6 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 BALD HILL, the estate of Major Claverden, was a 
 very good one, although, as any one in the neighbor- 
 hood would tell you, it was not what it used to be before the 
 war. But while this may be true in many respects, the 
 owner of Bald Hill, a man of sixty-five years and in very 
 good physical condition, was enabled to live in comfort, 
 and to a certain degree in the style to which the Claverden 
 family had been accustomed. His spacious house was of 
 brick, built in the somewhat severe fashion of many of the 
 old Virginia mansions. A fine lawn shaded by large trees, 
 most of which had been planted by the major's father, 
 stretched before the house, and the character of the farm, 
 which included some six hundred acres, was not to be 
 judged from the stony hill, a quarter of a mile from the 
 house, which gave its name to the estate. Much of the 
 land was fairly good, and enough of the arable portion of 
 it was under cultivation to satisfy its owner's present needs. 
 
 There were horses for riding, driving, and farm pur- 
 poses, all of them good ones and raised on the place ; 
 there were vehicles of various sorts in the carriage house ; 
 the negro driver wore a very good black coat and a high 
 silk hat; there was always plenty to eat and to drink; the 
 woodlands afforded abundance of oak and hickory log? 
 for winter fires; and the major's only child, Ardis, was as 
 well dressed as any young lady in her position need wish 
 to be. 
 
 Mrs. Claverden had died when her daughter was very 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 17 
 
 young, and the child had been given the family name of 
 her mother. " I wish my daughter to always remember," 
 the major would say, " that she is an Ardis as well as a 
 Claverden." And if he happened to have an appreciative 
 listener he would probably continue : " A remarkable thing 
 about these two families is this: I never heard a Claverden 
 say that he was better than an Ardis, or an Ardis that he 
 was better than a Claverden, and considering the high 
 position of the two families this is exceptional. I feel 
 warranted in saying it is truly exceptional! Now, while 
 I desire that my daughter shall never feel that she is 
 better than her neighbors, I hope that she may so live 
 that all who know her shall say that she is better than any 
 one else, excepting, of cour.-e, the speaker and his family. 
 I may add that I see no reason to doubt that this will be 
 the case." 
 
 The major's admiration for his daughter was well 
 grounded, for everybody admired her, even those who 
 criticised her independence of thought and action. In 
 high regard and esteem of her her father stood pre-emi- 
 nent. In his mind she was the reason why good things 
 should be and bad thing3 should not be ; and, furthermore, 
 he was often of the opinion that she was the reason why 
 good things were and bad things were not. 
 
 Ardis did what she pleased because her father felt as- 
 sured that she always pleased to do what was right. The 
 conviction had not come to him, although it had come to 
 other people, that he often thought things were right be- 
 cause she pleased to do them. But, although he was thus 
 willing to defer to his daughter's judgment in matters 
 which concerned herself, or himself in affairs over which 
 he did not choose to exercise jurisdiction, Major Claver- 
 den was a man of strong opinions. In a great degree the 
 conduct of affairs at Bald Hill was placed in the hands 
 
 2 
 
1 8 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 of Ardis, and the fact that she did not endeavor to inter- 
 fere with those affairs over which her father chose to re- 
 tain control showed that his confidence in her judgment 
 was not entirely misplaced. 
 
 They were very happy, father and daughter; each in- 
 dependent of the other, and yet each dependent on the 
 other for that independence. Ardis was beautiful, and 
 this she owed to both her parents; she had talents of 
 various kinds, and these she inherited from both father 
 and mother ; and she had an earnest desire to do what was 
 right, and this also came to her from both sides of the 
 family. That she did not always know what was right 
 arose from the fact that a mother's family name does not 
 take the place of a mother's guidance. 
 
 As a child Ardis had been well taken care of by her 
 nurses and relatives ; as a girl she had had all the advan- 
 tages that teachers and schools could give her; but as a 
 woman there was no one on whom she depended for 
 counsel or direction. Should she lay a subject before her 
 father, it nearly always happened that she had a precon- 
 ceived notion in regard to it, and on the carrying out of 
 that notion the major would insist sometimes, if he 
 thought necessary, with a little severity. It had been 
 suggested by relatives that it would be a very good thing 
 if Ardis could have some pleasant middle-aged lady to 
 live with her and to give her a certain amount of com- 
 panionship as well as assistance in household affairs ; at 
 anything more than this no relative would have thought 
 of hinting. But Major Claverden vigorously declared that 
 he wanted no old woman meddling with his domestic 
 affairs, and Ardis quietly but firmly asserted that so long 
 as she had the services of Caroline, a superior negro serv- 
 ant who for many years had acted as housekeeper, and 
 those of Henry, the veteran dining-room servant, she 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 19 
 
 needed no assistance in household duties; and as for 
 companionship, she would have to think a long time be- 
 fore she could fix her mind upon any person whom she 
 would be willing to take into the house as a constant com- 
 panion. Thus it was that the father and daughter made 
 up the family, and were very happy. 
 
 As has been said, Major Claverden had other strong 
 opinions besides those in regard to his daughter. Among 
 these were ideas some of which had proved to be very 
 good ones about agriculture and grape-growing. For 
 many years he had had a theory that no reason existed 
 why as good wine should not be produced from grapes 
 grown on his estate as from those picked from vines on 
 the banks of the Rhine. He had journeyed up and down 
 the Rhine, had visited the vineyards, carefully examined 
 and studied the soil, the vines, the exposures, and the 
 methods of culture, and was not able to perceive why a 
 grape grown in Virginia should not possess all the superior 
 wine-making properties of a grape grown in Germany. 
 To the perfection of such a grape he had devoted certain 
 suitable slopes of his farm and a great deal of his thought 
 and attention. So far he had produced no grapes which 
 satisfied him, but he had an earnest belief that eventually 
 he should do so. 
 
 Ever since she could remember Ardis had heard of the 
 " wine of Bald Hill," that wonderful liquor which was to 
 rival the wine of Johannisberg. Into a belief in the 
 realization of her father's dreams in regard to this wine 
 Ardis had, in a manner, been educated. This faith re- 
 mained unquestioned, for she always believed in her father. 
 
 When Dr. Lester reached Bald Hill he found the com- 
 pany whose arrival there had been the cause of his losing 
 the ride to town with Miss Ardis, was made up of Mr. 
 and Mrs. Dalrymple and their grown daughter. Mr. Dal- 
 
20 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 rymple was a retired business man from the Northwest 
 who had recently bought a farm in the neighborhood, 
 intending to devote himself to rural pursuits. Major 
 Claverden and his daughter had called on the family, and 
 this was the return visit. 
 
 The ladies were on the back piazza, a wide and com- 
 modious structure which had recently been built for the 
 pleasure of Ardis, and under her direction. She greatly 
 liked this cool, partly vine-embowered piazza; and here, 
 when her father and Mr. Dalrymple began to talk of 
 agricultural matters, she had taken Mrs. Dalrymple and 
 her daughter. To this piazza. Dr. Lester greatly desired 
 to repair. He did not know the Dalrymples, but Miss 
 Ardis was there, and where she was there would he be, no 
 matter who else might be present. But Major Claverden 
 was just starting out to show Mr. Dalrymple his vineyard, 
 and he invited the doctor to accompany them.. 
 
 The latter had heard over and over again the fullest 
 accounts of what the Bald Hill vines were intended to be, 
 but he was a gentleman, and a gentleman had asked him 
 to join another gentleman in observations in which it was 
 to be expected that gentlemen would take an interest, 
 and he could think of no reason which it would be proper 
 to express why he should excuse himself and go and sit 
 with three 7 adies. If he had not been conscious of a 
 special reason for desiring to be with the ladies, he might 
 have thought of some excuse which would have answered 
 his purpose very well. 
 
 Therefore the doctor trudged by the side of the major 
 toward the southern slope of Bald Hill. All the way 
 Major Claverden talked about what he had done and 
 what he intended to do in regard to the ultimate produc- 
 tion of the wine of Bald Hill. Mr. Dalrymple interjected 
 a good many remarks, chiefly in the form of questions, 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 21 
 
 while the doctor wondered why it should happen that 
 these people should determine to come to Bald Hill on a 
 morning when otherwise he might have had the inestima- 
 ble privilege of riding to town with Miss Ardis. Any 
 other morning would have suited the Dalrymples as well as 
 this ; but when would such a happy chance again present 
 itself to him? He made a promise to himself that the 
 next time such an opportunity occurred to him and he 
 was not prevented from taking advantage of it, he would 
 give one dollar to the poor. The doctor could not afford 
 such charity, but he made the promise in good faith and 
 would stand by it. 
 
 "Now, sir," said the major to Mr. Dalrymple, "you see 
 before you a hill which is precisely similar in all its con- 
 ditions to those slopes from which the most famous 
 Rhenish wines are produced. Like many of the vine- 
 yards on the banks of the Rhine, this hill was originally 
 totally unfitted for the culture of the grape. It had 
 nothing in its favor but the climate of the region and its 
 exposure. As the hills on the Rhine were terraced, I 
 terraced this one ; a suitable soil was deposited by manual 
 labor upon their terraces, so I deposited soil on these. 
 There is no difference, sir, between the earth in which the 
 Rhenish vines grow and this earth. Years of observation, 
 analysis, and patient labor have enabled me to feel entirely 
 certain upon this point. The vines on this slope are the 
 same as those which grow in the famous Johannisberg 
 vineyard. To have them so, sir, cost me more money, 
 time and thought than you can or are likely to imagine." 
 
 "I do not see," said Mr. Dalrymple, "how that sort of 
 thing could be done at all! The Johannisberg people 
 would not allow cuttings to be taken from their estate, 
 and I cannot imagine how any one could imitate their 
 vines! " 
 
22 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 The major smiled slightly. " Of course it would take a 
 good deal of study to make one able to comprehend that 
 branch of the subject. But, as I was saying, sir, you see 
 before you a vineyard with all the characteristics and 
 qualities of a Rhenish vineyard. To be sure our river, the 
 Tardiana, which flows here at the foot of the hills, is not 
 so wide as the Rhine where it passes the Johannisberg 
 Schloss, but what influence, sir, can the width of the river 
 have upon the flavor of a grape? " 
 
 " That may be one of the influences which exist," said 
 Mr. Dalrymple, " but which we cannot perceive." 
 
 "I may say further," said the major, "that where the 
 Rhine is wider the grapes are not so good. Now, sir, in 
 this portion of my vineyard is everything favorable to the 
 production of the very best grape which can be found in 
 the Johannisberg vineyard ; the only difference being that 
 one is called Bald Hill and the other John's Mountain. 
 And if my life and health hold out a few years longer, I 
 think I shall make it evident that as good wine can be 
 produced on the one as on the other." 
 
 "You cannot imitate nature," said Mr. Dalrymple. 
 " What she does for the grapes on the Rhine she is not 
 going to do here at least I do not think so." 
 
 Dr. Lester had not yet spoken, but Mr. Dalrymple's 
 tone drew his mind from the contemplation of his morn- 
 ing's disappointment. " You forget, sir," he said, " that 
 the most valuable grapes, as well as the most valuable 
 vegetable products of other sorts, are the result of man's 
 work and thought. They are improvements upon nature. 
 And no good reason has yet been offered why Major 
 Claverden should not grow as good wine grapes from the 
 vines which he, not nature, placed on this hill as are grown 
 on the vines which the Germans, not nature, placed on 
 the hills of the Rhine." 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEX. 23 
 
 Mr. Dalrymple glanced at the speaker, who he thought 
 must be a very poor kind of doctor if he had nothing to 
 do but to wander about in this idle way. " You might as 
 well try," he said, " to manufacture an Apollinaris spring 
 in one of the cracks or gullies in your hills. If you could 
 do that, now, it would be worth something." 
 
 "The rest of my vineyard, sir," said the major, paying 
 no attention to this remark, " is planted with the varieties 
 of grape generally grown in this country." 
 
 And then, as the party walked back to the house, the 
 major talked of other things than grapes. His manner 
 was very courteous during the rest of the Dalrymple call, 
 but in his mind was a fixed determination that he would 
 never have anything more to do with the man Dalrymple. 
 If his daughter liked the ladies and chose to visit them 
 she could do so, but he would never go near the house. 
 If he met the man he would treat him politely, and that 
 would be all. 
 
 The callers soon departed, but Dr. Lester remained to 
 dinner, which, according to the time-honored custom of 
 the country, was served somewhere between two and three 
 o'clock. 
 
 The two gentlemen had just finished their after-dinner 
 pipes when Ardis appeared. She wore a broad straw hat, 
 and in one hand she carried a basket. 
 
 " I am going to pick some grapes," she said, " from the 
 vines I reserve for family use. Don't you want to come 
 and help me, doctor? " 
 
 Gates of Heaven ! He arose with a spring. 
 
 Dr. Lester staid to supper; and he spent the evening 
 up to ten o'clock playing whist with Miss Ardis, her father, 
 and a dummy. When the young lady had retired he 
 passed the rest of the evening talking politics with the 
 major, with the accompaniment of pipes and some apple 
 
24 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 toddy which his host mixed with much skill and delibera- 
 tion. 
 
 Dr. Lester staid all night at Bald Hill, as was frequently 
 his custom ; but he arose very early in the morning and 
 rode home on his cream-colored horse. " There is no 
 reason," he said to himself, " why a man who has been as 
 hopelessly happy as I was yesterday should expose him- 
 self to the possible frosts of breakfast-time." 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 25 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 AMONG the several gentlemen whose admiration of 
 Miss Ardis Claverden had deepened into an earnest 
 affection was Mr. Roger Dunworth, who owned a large 
 farm about five miles from Bald Hill. He was a good- 
 looking young man, a little over-tall perhaps, a hard 
 worker and an able manager. He lived a bachelor life in 
 a large house ; and his estate, which was partly inherited 
 and partly bought from other heirs, was productive and 
 kept in admirable condition. His family consisted of 
 himself and three young Englishmen who were his pupils 
 in husbandry. This was a section of country much 
 affected by English settlers, many of whom were young 
 men, often of good family, who saw, or thought they saw, 
 in Virginia, opportunities of becoming land owners and 
 prosperous farmers which were totally denied to them in 
 their own country. It was their custom to make a more 
 or less systematic study of Virginia fashions of country 
 life and agriculture; and with this object in view they 
 would enter as pupils into the families of such farmers as 
 were willing to take them ; and thus the English pupil had 
 become a not uncommon element in the households in 
 that part of the country. 
 
 Although young Dunworth worked hard, superintended 
 his negro hands, and conscientiously endeavored to keep 
 his pupils in paths which should be profitable both to them 
 and to himself, he found time for rural recreations. He 
 went out with his gun and dogs in the hunting season, and 
 
2 6 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 he liked at any season to make occasional visits to his 
 neighbors. But his most frequent visits were made to 
 Bald Hill. 
 
 It was now two years ever since Ardis had finished 
 her school life and had taken her place as director of her 
 father's household that Roger Dunworth had been seri- 
 ously in love with her. He had never mentioned this fact 
 to any one, although everybody was well aware of it. 
 Ardis perfectly understood the state of affairs, but she 
 pursued the tenor of her way sometimes even and some- 
 times otherwise without regard to such condition, and 
 treated the matter so coolly, indeed, that many persons 
 thought the affair was settled, and that the young couple 
 only awaited a suitable opportunity to make a public an- 
 nouncement of it. 
 
 Roger Dunworth was a sharp-seeing person, and he 
 knew perfectly well that other men loved Ardis, but among 
 these he never numbered Dr. Lester. 
 
 The latter, on his part, was as much inclined to be ret- 
 icent in a matter of this sort as was Dunworth ; but as 
 he never expected to speak to Ardis on the subject, it was 
 a positive relief to him to speak to some one, and to no 
 one could he open his mind with greater confidence and 
 satisfaction than to Bonetti. This brother philosophizer 
 was interested in many things which interested the doctor. 
 Like the doctor he was thoroughly versed in wood-craft; 
 understood the habits of animals, birds, snakes, and in- 
 sects; could carve wood; and had a cunning hand in 
 making ingenious mechanical contrivances. The doctor 
 was a well-educated and well-read man, while Bonetti had 
 spent but a small portion of his boyhood in school, but 
 the latter had a quick and bright intelligence, and in the 
 winter-time read with interest and advantage the books 
 which his friends lent him. The two belonged to very 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 27 
 
 different classes of society, but the sympathy between 
 them prevented either of them from paying any attention 
 to this. ' 
 
 Dunworth considered Bonetti the best sportsman in the 
 county, and was often glad to have his opinion in regard 
 to vines, horses, or the training of a dog; but beyond this 
 he merely looked upon him as a good-natured but lazy 
 fellow who ought to do at least as much for his wife and 
 daughters as the latter did for him. Had the two lived 
 nearer to each other, it is probable that frequently Dun- 
 worth would have lent Bonetti potato hooks and other 
 tools, but at the same time he would have worried the 
 latter by offering him work when he was more agreeably 
 occupied. 
 
 One Saturday morning Dunworth was riding toward the 
 town, to which centre of the county's interests his business 
 occasionally took him. Being alone, it was natural that 
 his thoughts should be upon Ardis, and he was thinking 
 hard. His ideas were not arranged systematically, but 
 they had a general tendency, and that was toward a de- 
 termination to speak plainly to Ardis on the first favor- 
 able opportunity. He had not spoken so far because he 
 believed that the proper time had not arrived. And he 
 was entirely right. He could see very well that although 
 Ardis might like him and, in a measure, be fond of him, 
 she had not yet come to like him so well that she would 
 be willing to accept his love to the exclusion of that of 
 every other man. But now he thought he ought to speak. 
 In the first place, his love for Ardis had greatly grown of 
 late, and was much more difficult to restrain than it had 
 been; and in the second place, there was every reason 
 to believe that the love of other people for the girl 
 had also increased and might be difficult to restrain. As 
 she had grown physically and mental'yj she had grown 
 
28 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 more and more lovely, and, therefore, more likely to be 
 loved. 
 
 There was no one in the neighborhood whom Dunworth 
 looked upon as a rival. His fears in this respect con- 
 cerned men whom he had never seen, but of whom he had 
 heard. These Ardis had met in Washington and New 
 York, in which cities she had spent portions of the past 
 two winters. He had heard of these men from Ardis 
 herself, and knew that she had a good opinion of them, 
 but that she would be likely to meet them again, or that 
 any one of them would propose to her, he had no particu- 
 lar reason for believing. He argued, however, upon the 
 general principle that if any one of these pleasant gentle- 
 men should meet her again he would be very likely to 
 offer himself to her. In view of such a contingency Dun- 
 worth had now determined to offer himself before Ardis 
 again left Bald Hill. There was no need for hurry about 
 it, for winter was still distant, but also there was no reason 
 for delay if a good opportunity should offer itself. With 
 his mind fully made up on these points he entered the 
 town. 
 
 Bolton was only a country town, and not a very large 
 one ; but it was the county-seat, and therefore a place of 
 general resort to the people of the surrounding country. 
 Its principal street was wide and well supplied with shops 
 of various kinds and grades, from a large and imposing 
 pharmacy to a little one-story house in which a negro 
 cobbler had his shop. On one side of this street opened 
 a wide, well-paved place, generally known as " the square," 
 although it was oblong. Here were the bank, the post- 
 office, and various places of business, and at its farthest 
 end was the railroad station. On the other side of 
 the street, a little higher up, was another open space not 
 as large as this, and in it stood the court house. The 
 
ARD1S CLA-VERDEtf* 
 
 29 
 
 front yard of this building, shaded by trees and moderately 
 provided with grass, was the only spot in Bolton which in 
 any way resembled a public green. 
 
 On the monthly court days and on Saturdays the town 
 was a busy place. Country people came in from all parts ; 
 on horseback, in spring wagons, in wagons without springs, 
 and sometimes might be seen a negro in a creaking little 
 cart drawn by one mournful and diminutive ox. Great 
 wagons with their teams moved up and down or stood in 
 the middle of the street, and whenever a driver of a 
 vehicle wished to speak to a neighbor he stopped wher- 
 ever he happened to be, and the drivers of other vehicles 
 meandered patiently around him. There were blacks and 
 whites, with all the intermediate shades, and everybody 
 seemed to be acquainted with everybody else. 
 
 It was about noon, and Roger Dunworth, having finished 
 his business in the town, was untying his horse from the 
 front of the post-office, when a dog-cart driven very rapidly 
 came diagonally across the square, and was pulled up, 
 with a great jerk, in front of the post-office. Roger's horse 
 started at the clatter of the wheels, and his master looked 
 up and saluted the occupant of the dog-cart. This vehicle 
 was very high, with enormous wheels, and its driver looked 
 as if he were perched upon the box of a stage-coach. 
 The horse was of moderate size, with light buff harness 
 and a short cropped tail, and he suggested the idea that 
 he must have a hard time in keeping out of the way of 
 the overhanging vehicle behind him. 
 
 No one could for a moment doubt that the young man 
 in the dog-cart was an Englishman. He was small of 
 stature, with a ruddy, beardless, boyish face, and was 
 dressed in a suit of light corduroy which, considering the 
 season, appeared heavy and warm. On his head he wore 
 one of those helmet-like structures of linen and cork gen- 
 
30 ARDIS CLA VERDEN. 
 
 erally preferred in summer by Englishmen to the straw 
 hats of America, and his countenance and manner indi- 
 cated high health and a constant desire to be doing some- 
 thing with energy. 
 
 " How do you do, Mr. Dunworth? " he cried, springing 
 down from the dog-cart and taking Roger's hand w : th a 
 clap and a grip which would have served better to take a 
 culprit by the collar than a friend by the hand. 
 
 This individual was Tom Prouter, a young Englishman 
 who was neither a pupil of husbandry nor an intending 
 settler in this country. He was of a good English family, 
 with a moderate income and fair expectations. He had 
 come to Virginia because he had friends there, and be- 
 cause he had learned he could live there and enjoy him- 
 self for a great deal less money than if he remained in 
 England. He made his home at the house of one of his 
 friends a few miles from Bolton. He kept his horse, his 
 dog-cart, his setter, and his gun; and was as happy a 
 young fellow as could be found in the State. He was of 
 a very sociable disposition, and was on a friendly footing 
 with many of the native families of the neighborhood as 
 well as with those of his compatriots. 
 
 "Going home, Mr. Dunworth?" said Prouter. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Good ! I am going your way at least part of it. I 
 am going to stop at Bald Hill, and I hope the old major 
 will ask me to stay to dinner." 
 
 " I am going to stop there myself," said Roger. 
 
 "Really?" cried Prouter. " That's tip-top ! Wait a 
 minute until I post these letters and see if there is any- 
 thing for the family. And then I have got to go to two 
 or three shops and get the things that they have given 
 me a list of, and after that I have nothing to do in town 
 but to go to the railway station and get a time -table for 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 31 
 
 old Miss Airpenny, who is going off by train somewhere 
 to-morrow. I shall be with you in three minutes." 
 
 " What nonsense! " exclaimed Roger with a laugh. " It 
 will be half an hour or more before you are ready to leave 
 town, and I can't wait here all that time. I shall ride on, 
 and perhaps you can catch up with me." 
 
 " I'll do it! " cried Prouter. " I'll be with you before 
 you have gone a mile!" And he dashed into the post- 
 office. 
 
 Dun worth mounted and rode away. He had not posi- 
 tively intended to stop at Bald Hill, although he had been 
 thinking about it ; but Prouter's statement of his inten- 
 tion instantly determined him to do the same thing. Since 
 his thoughtful ride that morning his purposes regarding 
 Ardis Claverden had become much more definite. He 
 was not jealous of Prouter, who knew Ardis but slightly, 
 nor was he afraid of him, although a young Englishman 
 who would one day come into a good property and posi- 
 tion, should not be looked upon with indifference as a rival 
 if he chose to make himself such. But now that Ardis 
 concerned Roger more than ever before, he felt that her 
 male friends concerned him more than ever; and if 
 Prouter intended to stop at Bald Hill he would stop too. 
 He liked the young Englishman and would have been 
 glad to have his company on the road had he been 
 mounted, but Dunworth had no desire to ride before, 
 after, or by the side of a rattling dog-cart. 
 
 He reached Bald Hill before Prouter left the town. 
 Ardis was not visible, but the major received his visitor 
 with great cordiality. Dunworth' s horse was taken away 
 and the two men ensconced themselves in comfortable 
 chairs on the porch. They had duly discussed the country 
 and the crops, and Roger was beginning to think that 
 Ardis was a long time in 'making her appearance, when 
 
32 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 Prouter whirled upon the scene, his face in a glow and his 
 horse streaked with foam. Throwing the reins on the 
 back of his panting beast he sprang to the ground and 
 was about to lead the animal to a hitching-post, when 
 Major Claverden called to him that a man would take his 
 horse and advanced to greet him. 
 
 Prouter instantly turned, and with five steps and a jump 
 crossed the grass-plat in front of the house, and reached 
 the bottom of the porch steps by the time the major was 
 at the top. After the customary salutations he turned 
 around uneasily toward the negro who was leading away 
 his horse. He felt it was necessary for him to say some- 
 thing. If this was to be merely a morning call there was 
 110 need that the horse should be taken to the stables, and 
 he could not assume that the case was otherwise. 
 
 " Do not be disturbed about your horse," said the major, 
 smiling. " My man will not water him before he is cooled 
 off, and you will stay to dinner with us." 
 
 "Thank you very much," said the relieved Prouter. 
 s( I shall be glad to do it. I was only thinking if it rained 
 some of those parcels in the cart would get wet ; two or 
 three of them are sugar, I think." 
 
 " Have no fear about them," said the major. " Your 
 dog -cart shall be put under cover." 
 
 And then, fearing that he had made an unnecessary im- 
 putation, Prouter turned a little redder than usual ; and 
 declaring that it made no difference anyway, took his seat 
 on a bench, at the end of the porch. Now the inter- 
 rupted conversation was resumed, and although Prouter 
 took very little part in it, he leaned forward on his bench 
 with his elbows on his knees and listened with an earnest 
 energy which would have encouraged the poorest talker. 
 Very soon Ardis made her appearance, looking lovely in a 
 white dress with a cluster of old-fashioned garden flowers 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 33 
 
 in her belt. She gave a gracious welcome to each of the 
 two young men, and as Roger took her hand some agree- 
 able thoughts flashed into his mind. " She knew I was 
 here. She was a long time coming down. She is beau- 
 tifully dressed." These were thoughts very encouraging 
 to a lover. 
 
 The young Englishman greatly enjoyed his dinner. 
 " What I like about a meal like this," he exclaimed with 
 enthusiasm, " is that it is out-and-out American ! Now, I 
 don't mean to say that I do not like an out-and-out Eng- 
 lish dinner, better than any other, which I do, and expect 
 to have them all my life when I settle down; but the 
 people at Loch Levin give me meals " 
 
 "I beg your pardon," interrupted Major Claverden. 
 " Is that the present name of Mr. Quantrill's place ? It 
 was always called Black Gum Bottom." 
 
 " They didn't like that," said Prouter, " and wanted to 
 give it an Old Country name, and they have a bit of a 
 mill-pond near by. As I was saying, their meals are about 
 half -naturalized, and are neither one thing nor the other. 
 Now, I like everything about me to be out-and-out, one 
 thing or the other! " 
 
 "And yet," said the major, "judicious admixtures are 
 very valuable. From these have come the first results of 
 civilization." 
 
 "That is very true," said Prouter, "where it concerns 
 race-horses or grapes, but I don't think it works with 
 dinners. That sort of thing I like out-and-out, like this 
 one." 
 
 After dinner Major Claverden invited his guests to 
 smoke with him on the porch. This invitation was 
 accepted with alacrity by Prouter, and with some hesita- 
 tion by Dunworth, who waited a little to see what Ardis 
 going to do. But as she stepped aside to speak to a 
 3 
 
34 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 servant he followed the other gentlemen, hoping that Ardis 
 would join the party, for he knew she was not afraid of 
 the smell of good tobacco in open air. 
 
 Prouter was soon in a state of great delight over the 
 major's manner of lighting his pipe. A negro boy brought 
 on a shovel some glowing embers from the kitchen fire, 
 and with a pair of small tongs made for the purpose Major 
 Claverden took up one of these and applied it to his well- 
 filled pipe-bowl. 
 
 " Yes, sir," said he, in reply to an exclamation from the 
 young Englishman, " I never light my pipe with a match 
 or piece of burning paper. I always use a coal of fire, as 
 did my father before me. Anything else would destroy 
 the flavor of the tobacco." 
 
 "By George! that's a splendid idea! " cried Prouter as 
 he took the tongs and lighted his pipe with a coal. " When 
 I settle down I am going to have a little chap like that to 
 bring me coals of fire for my pipe." 
 
 " But in England you ought to be out-and-out English," 
 said Dunworth. 
 
 " When I smoke Virginia tobacco," said Prouter, " I 
 am going to be out-and-out Virginian." 
 
 As he smoked, Roger's eyes, as well as his thoughts, 
 wandered from his company. If he saw Ardis in the 
 garden, or anywhere about the grounds, he intended to 
 join her. The major had just finished his pipe when that 
 young lady appeared in the doorway. She had changed 
 her dress and now wore a dark gown with a long, white 
 apron with a front attachment which came up nearly to 
 her throat. This garment was decorated with spots and 
 lines of various colors which did not appear to have been 
 imprinted thereon in any regular design. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said she, " I want a model." 
 
 " In that case," said the major, knocking the ashes from 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 35 
 
 his pipe and rising, " I will give way to these younger 
 men. I have done my full duty as a model, and will go 
 and look after my people, who are by no means models, 
 I assure you." 
 
 Dunworth and Prouter instantly offered their services to 
 Miss Claverden, and accompanied her to her studio. In 
 temperament Ardis Claverden was essentially artistic. 
 Her father had gratified her inclinations in this direction, 
 and she had had a more thorough instruction in drawing 
 and painting than is generally received by girls who are 
 not expected to become professional artists. She was 
 very much in earnest about her art work, and if she did 
 not actually expect to make it her life-work, she had very 
 strong leanings that way. An artistic career appeared to 
 her delightful. She would have liked to study in Paris, 
 to have an atelier at the top of a tall old house, to mingle 
 with the students in the Ecole des Beaux- Arts, to copy in 
 the galleries of the Louvre and Luxembourg, and after a 
 year or two of all that, to wander through Italy and Ger- 
 many, grafting her own art imaginings on those of the 
 masters. Her disposition was as much inclined toward 
 the " out-and-out " as was Prouter's. 
 
 In disposition Ardis was conscientiously independent. 
 She believed it to be her duty to judge for herself what 
 was right and what was wrong ; and although in some 
 cases her decisions came in a flash, in others they were 
 slov/ and carefully weighed. She had once thought that 
 it might be well for her to study medicine and practice 
 among poor people; and she had taken Dr. Lester into 
 her confidence on this subject. His strong prejudices 
 against women doctors, imbibed when he was a student, 
 and his thorough knowledge of the vicissitudes and hard- 
 ships of a physician's life, derived from an intimate ac- 
 quaintance with all the doctors in the county, enabled 
 
36 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 him to persuade her that a medical career was entirely 
 unsuited to her; and this project was thought of no more. 
 To persuade her that an artistic career was unsuited to 
 her would have been a much more difficult task, inclina- 
 tion being such a powerful ally of duty. 
 
 Ardis's studio was a large building which had once been 
 a barn, but she had totally changed its original character 
 and made it entirely suitable for her purposes. A tall 
 window was put 'into the northern gable, and the large 
 room was fitted up, not only conveniently but elegantly. 
 Her disposition turned her toward elegance as well as 
 toward art. 
 
 "Now, gentlemen," said Ardis when they had entered 
 the studio, "which of you will be my model? " 
 
 Dunworth was about to ask for what she wanted a 
 model, when Prouter declared that he would pose for her 
 in any position she desired. " If my face is not vener- 
 able enough," he said, "we can doctor it up and make 
 it so." 
 
 " I don't care anything about a face," Ardis answered. 
 " I want a back. I desire to sketch a retreating figure." 
 
 " Very good," said Prouter, " I can retreat. Shall I 
 retreat into a corner? Do you want me to put on any of 
 these costumes? " 
 
 " Your present attire will suit me very well," said Ardis. 
 "And you need not be in such a hurry to retreat. That 
 is not like a true Englishman. Let me show you what I 
 am doing." And she led them to a canvas on an easel. 
 " You see," she said, "it is a backwoodsman just about to 
 shoot at a flying enemy. Father stood for the figure in 
 the foreground. He is a good sportsman and knew just 
 how to stand and raise his rifle. And now I want the 
 man running away in the middle distance." 
 
 " I'll suit him exactly," said Prouter, " for I am shorter 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 37 
 
 than Mr. Dunworth and will not have to go so far to give 
 the right perspective." 
 
 Ardis laughed. " You will answer admirably," she said, 
 "and I will tell you what you must do." 
 
 She opened a door from which a path led to a little 
 grove at a short distance, and Dunworth placed the easel 
 near it, replacing the canvas by a drawing-board. 
 
 " Now/' said she to Procter, " you must run down that 
 path until I call to you to stop, and then you must try to 
 maintain the position you happen to be in, as nearly as 
 you can." 
 
 When Ardis had taken her seat and was ready to sketch, 
 she gave her impatient model permission to start. In- 
 stantly his heavy shoes beat rapidly on the path, and if 
 she had not quickly called to him he would have been out 
 of sight among the trees. 
 
 Prouter stopped at the word, one foot in the air, and 
 his body well forward. 
 
 "Oh, you can't stand that way! " cried Ardis. 
 
 "Yes, I can!" shouted the model without turning his 
 head. " You can go on and put me into your picture." 
 
 " His arms are too close to his side," remarked Ardis 
 to Dunworth. 
 
 " Like a professional runner," replied the latter. 
 
 Thereupon Ardis called to her model to extend his 
 arms somewhat as if he were flying in terror, but before 
 he could arrange himself to suit her, down came his up- 
 raised foot, and he stood upright. 
 
 " Can't keep it up," he said, turning round. " I didn't 
 know how hard it was. Shall have to try it over again, 
 and stop on a better balance." 
 
 Prouter now came back and prepared for a second run. 
 Ardis instructed him to stop at the proper distance, with 
 one foot and the toes of the other on the ground, as the 
 
38 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 extended leg could easily be raised when she transferred 
 the sketch to the canvas. 
 
 After a few suggestions from Ardis, Prouter's new posi- 
 tion was pronounced a success, and she began to draw. 
 
 "Don't hurry yourself!" the model shouted. "I am 
 good for all day now! " 
 
 Ardis was not a rapid sketcher, and worked carefully 
 and thoughtfully. Dunworth took a seat near her, watch- 
 ing her, but not her work ; and as he looked upon her his 
 heart drew nearer and nearer to this handsome girl, whose 
 large dark eyes gazed out over the sunlit path and then 
 came back with quiet earnestness to the white paper be- 
 fore her; each movement giving them a fresh beauty. 
 The blood of the young man began to warm, his eyes to 
 brighten. His purpose to speak his mind to Ardis pressed 
 strongly upon him. He had intended to speak in a week, 
 or perhaps two weeks, or in a month, whenever he thought 
 the proper time had come. But now his purpose pressed 
 him very hard. With but an instant's premeditation, he 
 spoke to her: 
 
 "Ardis," he said, "you must know how I love you. 
 Will you be my wife? " 
 
 " No," she answered quietly, still proceeding with her 
 drawing. " And why do you say such a thing to me at 
 this time?" 
 
 " Simply because I could not help it," said Roger. 
 "And tell me," he continued earnestly, grasping at the 
 hope thus held out, " may I speak later ; at a better time ? " 
 
 " No," she answered quickly. " I can tell you now as 
 well as at any other time that I do not wish to marry you. 
 Mr. Prouter, will you please hold your right arm a little 
 higher? You should not ask a girl who has her own ideas 
 of life-work, and is trying hard to carry them out, and to 
 whom new purposes are coming all the time, and who is 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 39 
 
 really just beginning life, to drop all her aims and aspira- 
 tions and marry you." 
 
 " Ardis," he said, "you need not give up anything." 
 
 " You are mistaken," she answered, taking up a fresh 
 piece of charcoal, " and I say again, I do not wish to 
 marry." 
 
 " Do you mean by that," said Roger, " that you do not 
 wish to marry any one? " 
 
 "Exactly," she answered, "that is what I mean." 
 
 " And then," he asked, in a low voice, but with vehem- 
 ence, " if you should change your mind, would I have as 
 good a chance as any one? " 
 
 " There are no chances for any one," she said. 
 
 " Then I stand on as good a footing as any other man? " 
 he persisted. 
 
 "With no footing at all," she answered, "you are as 
 well off as any other man." 
 
 "Then I may be your friend as I have always been? " 
 said Roger. 
 
 " Precisely, as you have always been," replied Ardis. 
 " I shall be glad to have you continue to be that. Mr. 
 Prouter5 " she called out, " that will do! Will you please 
 come in now?" And, as her model came skipping back 
 she said to him, " I thank you very much indeed, and I 
 think I have made a good study of a retreating figure." 
 
 Roger arose, and in his heart he said : " If she expects 
 to sketch me in that position she is mistaken." 
 
 "Capital!" cried Prouter, regarding the sketch with 
 glowing admiration ; " I did not know I was such a good 
 runner! I will come and stand for you whenever you 
 want me to. I have nothing to do." 
 
 " It is a great pity," said Ardis, " that you have nothing 
 to do. But I need not call on you again, as I can go now 
 without a model." 
 
40 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 When the three returned to the house the young men 
 prepared to depart. Major Claverden invited them to 
 stay to supper, but Dunworth, who was not a man of 
 leisure, declined; and Prouter felt compelled to follow 
 his example. 
 
 " Mr. Dunworth," said the young Englishman as he was 
 about to mount into his dog-cart, " I think I will go home 
 with you and spend the night. It is a long time since I 
 have seen the boys, and I want to have a talk with them." 
 
 " I shall be delighted to have you do so," said Dun- 
 worth, " but you must take me into your cart, and my 
 horse can follow behind." 
 
 " All right ! " cried Prouter, as Roger, with his bridle in 
 his hand, got into the lofty vehicle, " and if your horse 
 doesn't step out lively, Jerry will pull his head off! " 
 
 " The danger is," said Roger, " that he may run over us." 
 
 "We shall see about that! " cried Prouter with a crack 
 of his whip. 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 41 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 WHEN Prouter and Dunworth arrived at the house of 
 the latter, they perceived the three students of 
 husbandry sitting on a bench which was made of a wide 
 plank fastened between the trunks of two trees in a shady 
 side yard. Their day's work was done, and each of them 
 was smoking a short, brown pipe. Prouter jumped to the 
 ground and ran to greet his countrymen ; and Dunworth, 
 when he had given the horses in charge of a servant, went 
 into the house. 
 
 " How are you, Parchester? How are you, Skitt? How 
 are you, Cruppledean ? " cried Prouter, shaking each by 
 the hand, as, in turn, they arose from the bench. " It is 
 a fortnight since I have seen you." 
 
 " Really? " said Parchester, " I did not think it was so 
 long." 
 
 " Nor I," said Skitt. 
 
 And Cruppledean, the tallest member of the trio, re- 
 sumed his seat upon the bench without a word. 
 
 These pupils of Dunworth were young men of good 
 education and belonged to English families of respecta- 
 bility, but as they had come to Virginia to learn to work 
 like farmers they considered it their duty to conform their 
 dress to their idea of the farm laborer. They wore coarse 
 flannel shirts and their abraded corduroy trousers were 
 tucked into high-topped boots. Prouter took his seat on 
 the bench, Parchester moving a little nearer to Skitt in 
 order to make room for him, and drew from his pockets 
 a short, brown pipe and a bag of tobacco. 
 
42 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 "Time for a puff before supper? " he said, while filling 
 his pipe. 
 
 " Oh, yes," said Parchester. 
 
 And Prouter, having lighted his pipe with a brimstone 
 match skilfully protected from the wind in the hollow of 
 one hand, joined in the puffing of the others. 
 
 "Any news from home?" asked Skitt, removing his 
 pipe for a moment. 
 
 " Oh, yes," said Prouter, pulling from the pocket of his 
 shooting jacket a copy of the weekly London " Times," 
 now twelve days old, and handing it to Skitt, " Here is 
 the latest, and I have got the ' Illustrated News ' under 
 the cushion of my cart. Til leave them here, for I have 
 read them." 
 
 Skitt opened the paper and began to scan the news 
 columns. These youths never looked at an American 
 journal, and for their knowledge of current events de- 
 pended entirely upon hearsay or the English papers. 
 
 Now the sound of a bell was heard inside the house, 
 and the four young men arose from the bench, knocked 
 out the contents of their pipes, slipped the warm bowls 
 into their pockets, and went in to supper. 
 
 The meal was not entirely an out-and-out American 
 one, Dunworth having introduced the English modification 
 of large bowls of warm milk for his pupils in place of the 
 cold lacteal fluid found on every Virginian supper-table ; 
 but there was a great dish of broiled ham, a smoking pone 
 of cornmeal, hot wheat bread of various kinds, cold bread 
 and toast, coffee for the host, and tea for the others. 
 
 The conversation during the meal was animated, and 
 was principally upon agricultural subjects, mingled with 
 some talk about horses, and more about dogs. It was 
 noticeable, however, that the tall man, Cruppledean, had 
 very little to say. 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 43 
 
 After supper they all went out to the porch, where they 
 disposed themselves, some on chairs and some on the 
 steps, to have a smoke. Prouter, however, had not given 
 three puffs before he sprang to his feet. 
 
 "By jingo!" he cried. "I forgot the sugar and the 
 rest of the grocery stuff that Mrs. Quantrill asked me to 
 fetch to her/' 
 
 " Did she want any of them for supper? " asked Skitt. 
 
 " That is more than I know," said Prouter, " but their 
 supper is over and done, and there is no use talking about 
 it now." And down he sat. 
 
 "And how about the time-table for Miss Airpenny?" 
 asked Dunworth. 
 
 For a moment Prouter's face assumed a blank expres- 
 sion, and then it began to glow again. " Let that go in 
 with the sugar," he said. " She can't have it to-night, 
 and there's the end of it! But I will take it to her to- 
 morrow morning, long before she ought to start for any- 
 where." 
 
 "And a jolly time she will have of it to-night," said 
 Skitt, " through not knowing when she is to start on her 
 journey to-morrow." 
 
 "Anyway," said Prouter, "it's lots better to forget I 
 ought to go home, than to go home and forget the errand ; 
 so I am that much to the good, anyway." 
 
 "Where is the old lady going? " asked Parchester. 
 
 " I am sure I don't know," said Prouter. " She has 
 been talking of Afghanistan, and as she has been almost 
 everywhere else it's as like as not she is going there." 
 
 "Does she travel alone?" asked Dunworth. 
 
 " I should say co ! " cried Prouter. " There is not a 
 sane person living who would travel with her! And she 
 doesn't want them either. She is able to take care of 
 herself, and when she can't get a conveyance she walks. 
 
44 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 I told her she ought to have a tricycle, and she turned on 
 me with a snap, and said that as long as she had two legs 
 she did not care for three wheels." 
 
 " I should like to have a better acquaintance with Miss 
 Airpenny," said Dunworth, rising. " She must be a good 
 sort of woman." 
 
 " She is that," said Prouter, " if you get on the right 
 side of her, which I must say has not commonly been my 
 luck." 
 
 Dunworth soon retired to a room on the first floor which 
 had been his father's library and study, and was now de- 
 voted strictly to his own private use. He did not light 
 the lamp upon the table, but seated himself in an arm- 
 chair by the open window, and gave himself up to think- 
 ing. 
 
 Of course his thoughts were upon Ardis. She and her 
 words had been present to him ever since he had spoken 
 to her in her studio, but until that quiet hour he had not 
 been able to give up his mind entirely to her. Now he 
 so gave it up. His ideas came to him in no order. He 
 thought of Ardis as a woman he must love, whatever hap- 
 pened, but he also thought of many things which must 
 happen if his life were to be a true and happy one. There 
 came to him visions of existence with Ardis in contrast 
 with the life he now lived. There came to him many 
 visions of what he would do for Ardis, and what Ardis 
 would do for him, and although most of these were the 
 bright fancies of a lover, others were the ideas of a man 
 given to sound thinking. 
 
 He did not believe in Ardis's aims or purposes. He 
 had known her so long and he had known her so well, that 
 he was perfectly aware that it was necessary for her ardent 
 nature to exercise its energies upon some engrossing ob- 
 ject. That object was now the pursuit of art. He be- 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 45 
 
 lieved that some day it would be the love of a husband 
 and the happiness of a home. That he should be that 
 husband and that that home should be his home, was all 
 in all to Roger Dunworth. 
 
 As to his chances he felt a quiet encouragement. She 
 had given no reason for declining his offer except that she 
 did not wish to marry anybody. This was reasonable 
 enough. She was yet young, and very many things were 
 occupying her mind ; time might be trusted to make room 
 in that mind for love. And, again, she had made no ob- 
 jection to him personally, and had even told him that his 
 chances of winning her were as good as those of anybody 
 else. On the whole he was fairly satisfied. 
 
 " I have told her that I love her," he said to himself, 
 " and I have no reason to believe that any other man has 
 done this. Say what she may, she cannot forget my 
 words, and the remembrance of them must have its in- 
 fluence." 
 
 With this he arose. A clock in the room was striking 
 ten. He went out to the front of the house to look for 
 his visitor, but could see no one. This gave him no con- 
 cern, as his pupils could be safely trusted to entertain 
 Prouter in whatever way he wished to be entertained. 
 And thereupon Dunworth went to bed. 
 
 When the four young Englishmen had been left to 
 themselves, Skitt remarked that it was a beautiful moon- 
 light night, and that it would be a capital notion to go 
 down to the fence at the foot of the lawn, and sit there 
 and have asmoke; at the same time enjoying the beauty 
 of the scene which would be spread out before them. To 
 this proposition all agreed, and they betook themselves 
 to the fence. When they were well seated on the flat top 
 of the broad fence, and had begun on their freshly lighted 
 pipes, Prouter exclaimed : " What is the matter with you, 
 
46 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 Cruppledean? You have hardly spoken a word since I 
 came here. 1 ' 
 
 " Nothing is the matter," said Cruppledean, shortly. 
 
 " I'll tell you what ails him," said Skitt. " He wants to 
 fight." 
 
 " Fight! " cried Prouter. " Who does he want to fight 
 with?" 
 
 " With the governor," said Skitt. 
 
 " Do you mean Mr. Dunworth? " 
 
 "Yes, that's the man," was the reply. 
 
 "And what have you got against him, Cruppledean? " 
 asked Prouter. " What has he done to you? " 
 
 " I haven't anything against him," said Cruppledean, 
 "and he hasn't done anything to me. You don't sup- 
 pose I would stand that, do you? What I want is to 
 know which is the better man." 
 
 "And what is the good of that? " asked Prouter vehe- 
 mently. " Your governor is a good enough man in many 
 ways, and you are good enough in many ways. What is 
 the sense of fighting to find out which is the better in that 
 way?" 
 
 " I don't want to work under any man," said Crupple- 
 dean, "without knowing whether he is the better man or 
 I am. That sort of thing is against nature, and I won't 
 stand it!" 
 
 "Stuff and nonsense! " cried Prouter. 
 
 " No, it isn't stuff and nonsense ! " asserted Cruppledean 
 with animation. " Here are Parchester and Skitt ; they 
 are under his size and under his weight; they know he 
 is a better man than either of them; and so they are sat- 
 isfied. But it is different with me. I am nearly as tall 
 as the governor, and quite as heavy, and I am not going 
 to stand round like a milksop, without knowing whether 
 he is the better man or I am." 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 47 
 
 "Look here, Cruppledean," cried Prouter, "you let 
 Dunworth alone. He is a good fellow, but I don't be- 
 lieve he cares about sparring, and if you try to get up a 
 match with him it will make trouble. And you are mis- 
 taken about height and weight settling the question as to 
 which of two men is the better. Do you think that Dun- 
 worth is a better man than I am? " 
 
 "Yes, I do," said Cruppledean. 
 
 "Very well, then," replied Prouter, "we can settle your 
 point without troubling him. Just step out in some open 
 place in the moonlight, and we will have a few rounds." 
 
 " Very good," said Cruppledean, getting down from the 
 fence. " That will settle it one way, but if I am better 
 than you are that leaves his affair still unsettled." 
 
 " Come along," said Prouter, vigorously striding off to 
 a smooth place in a field at the bottom of the hill. 
 
 Here they had a few rounds in the bright light of the 
 moon, Parchester and Skitt active as seconds. Cruppledean 
 was taller and stronger than his antagonist, with great ad- 
 vantages in length of " reach," but Prouter, who was an ad- 
 mirable boxer, was so quick and lively that he got in as 
 many "good ones" as did the taller man. 
 
 After a very moderate amount of this work the seconds 
 interfered and declared the affair a drawn fight, and that 
 one man was as good as the other. The principals there- 
 upon put on their coats and shook hands with the utmost 
 friendliness. Both bore evidences of being somewhat 
 jarred by the encounter, but Cruppledean's spirits were 
 decidedly improved. 
 
 "Are you satisfied now?" asked Prouter. 
 
 " Yes," said the other, " the thing looks clearer to me, 
 and I know where I stand. It does not do for a fellow to 
 be uncertain about these points. It weighs on his mind. 
 Now, I should say that Dunworth and I are about even." 
 
48 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 " Good! " cried Prouter. " I am glad that is all straight- 
 ened out And now let us go up to the house and have 
 a smoke." 
 
 The party was quietly puffing away on the steps of the 
 porch when Parchester suddenly rose to his feet. " What 
 is that light out there on the mountain? " he exclaimed. 
 
 Each man rose to his feet and looked out in the direc- 
 tion indicated. About half a mile away was a wide stretch 
 of rising ground which attained considerable elevation at 
 its summit. This formed part of Dunworth's farm, and 
 was known as "the mountain." The upper part was 
 heavily wooded, and among the nearer trees a light could 
 be seen moving. 
 
 " What does anybody want of a lantern on a bright 
 night like this? " said Skitt. 
 
 " It is likely to be some one hunting 'coons," said Par- 
 Chester. 
 
 "And if it is," said Cruppledean, " he hasn't any right 
 to do it." 
 
 "How is that?" asked Prouter. "Does Dunworth 
 preserve his 'coons? " 
 
 " Can't say," answered Cruppledean, " but I know he 
 does not allow the darkeys to hunt "coons on his place 
 without permission." 
 
 "Is this the season for 'coons? " asked Prouter. 
 
 "Can't say," answered Cruppledean, "but there's the 
 light, and you may be sure some sort of mischief is up." 
 
 " Let's go after them! " said Skitt. 
 
 " Good ! " exclaimed the others. 
 
 And each man knocked out his ashes and pocketed his 
 pipe. Skitt hurried through the open front door and 
 quickly returned with three heavy blackthorn sticks be- 
 longing to himself and his comrades, and a loaded riding- 
 whip which he gave to Prouter. Then the four dashed 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 49 
 
 off, cleared a fence, and made straight across the fields 
 toward the mountain. Each man ran at the top of his 
 speed, but Cruppledean's long legs carried him a little 
 ahead of the others. 
 
 When they reached the rising ground they separated so 
 as to strike the woods at different points, and thus cut off 
 the retreat of the miscreants. The light could now be 
 plainly seen some distance away among the trees. Crup- 
 pledean plunged through the underbrush to the north of 
 the light; Parchester and Skitt rushed this way and that 
 among the trees, keeping somewhat to the south, while 
 Prouter made a straightaway dash directly toward the 
 light. In spite of the bright moonlight it was almost dark 
 in the woods, and the young men found it difficult to 
 avoid the trees and the other objects in their way, but 
 they pressed on with surprising rapidity considering the 
 circumstances, each firmly grasping his weapon and fired 
 with the ardor of pursuit. 
 
 Prouter was fortunate enough to strike a wood road y 
 evidently the course taken by the persons carrying the 
 light ; and running along this, he soon came upon a little 
 group composed of an old negro and two half-grown boys. 
 The old man carried a light-wood torch, and all three stood 
 still, quaking in their much-worn shoes at the sound of 
 pursuers crashing toward them, apparently from all quar- 
 ters. 
 
 "Lor' bress my soul ! " cried the old man, as Prouter 
 plunged at him with upraised whip. " Wot's de matter, 
 sah? Wot you gwine do? " And the three negroes scut- 
 tled back against the trunk of a great tree. 
 
 "What are you going to do?" cried Prouter, still 
 brandishing his whip. " What do you mean by coming 
 here to hunt 'coons? " 
 
 " Bress your soul, sah ! " exclaimed the man. " I's 
 4 
 
50 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 huntin 1 no 'coons ! I come heah to look f er my black hog 
 wot git away dis mawnin'." 
 
 At this moment Cruppledean came up, and Parchester 
 and Skitt quickly appeared. With upraised cudgels the 
 party surrounded the negroes, the torch throwing the only 
 light upon the scene. 
 
 " He says he is looking for his hog," said Prouter. 
 
 " Gammon! " cried Cruppledean. " It must be nearly 
 twelve o'clock. A pretty time to be looking for a hog! " 
 
 " But I tell you, sah," said the old man, " I done begin 
 to look fer him as soon as I got froo my work. I tell you, 
 sah, it takes a long time to look fer a hog when he gits 
 away in de mawnin'." 
 
 " I bet five to three, and make it shillings," said Par- 
 chester, "that he is after 'coons." 
 
 " Bress your soul, sah," said the negro, turning to him, 
 " who wants 'coons or 'possums, airy one, when dey ain't 
 fat yit? An' whar's de axe or de dogs I got to hunt 'em 
 wid?" 
 
 "Do they hunt 'coons with axes and dogs?" asked 
 Prouter. 
 
 " Yes," said Cruppledean, " I have heard they do." 
 
 Prouter and the pupils now stood and looked at the 
 negroes, the two boys crouching behind their father as if 
 they expected at any moment to get a rap over the head. 
 
 " Well, then," presently remarked Skitt, " if he really is 
 looking for his hog we may as well let him go on and look 
 for it." 
 
 " Which I most sart'inly is, sah," said the man. 
 
 " But look here," said Prouter, " if you do come into 
 this wood looking for hogs, don't you look for them as if 
 you were hunting 'coons. Do you hear that? " 
 
 " Yes, sah," said the man. 
 
 And as there now seemed nothing more for them to do, 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 5 ! 
 
 the four self-constituted keepers turned to depart. The 
 negro politely preceded them with his torch to light them 
 out of the woods ; and when they reached the open each 
 young man put his hand in his pocket and tipped the 
 torch-bearer. 
 
 "If it wasn't so late," said Cruppledean, "we would go 
 with you and help you hunt your hog." 
 
 " Much obliged, sah, but I reckon you'd skeer him wuss 
 dan you'd ketch him." 
 
 The party walked gayly down the declivity and over the 
 fields, and when they reached the house they sat down to 
 resume the smoke which had been interrupted. When 
 this was finished they went in-doors, and Skitt, who was 
 a careful man, shut the front door after him. They went 
 into the dining-room, where a light was burning, and 
 Cruppledean produced a bottle of spirits, apologizing to 
 Prouter for not having any hot water; it being so late of 
 course the kitchen fire was out. Parchester produced 
 some hard biscuit and cheese from the sideboard; and 
 each man having mixed his drink to suit himself, they 
 partook of a light supper. 
 
 Cruppledean now proposed that they should go out on 
 the porch and have a smoke, but Parchester declared 
 that if they intended to work the next day they must go 
 to bed. And this being generally agreed to they took 
 lamps and went up-stairs. Cruppledean and Skitt occu- 
 pied a large bedroom, and across the hall was Parchester's 
 room with a spare bed in it for Prouter. 
 
 Cruppledean seated himself by the open window of his 
 room to have a smoke, and Skitt went to bed. In the 
 other room Prouter, his coat off and one shoe in his hand, 
 sat for some minutes immersed in thought. 
 
 " Parchester," he said, " come into Skitt's room. I have 
 something I want to say to all of you." 
 
52 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 And unevenly clumping across the hall, he seated him- 
 self on a corner of the table in the other bedroom. 
 
 " Fellows," said he, " I have just been making up my 
 mind. I am going to do something! " 
 
 " Then why don't you go and do it? " asked Skitt, who 
 was sleepy. 
 
 Disregarding this remark, Prouter went on. "I am 
 the only fellow among you who doesn't work. You all 
 work, Dunworth works, the Quantrills work, every one of 
 them, and even old Miss Airpenny works. I don't do 
 anything. I just go around with my hands in my pockets 
 and look at other people work. I am going to stop it. I 
 am ashamed of it. I began to be ashamed of it yesterday 
 when a pretty girl said to me the prettiest girl, by the 
 way, I ever laid eyes on " 
 
 "Who was it?" asked Skitt, with awakening animation. 
 
 " Miss Claverden," said Prouter. 
 
 "You are right there!" exclaimed Parchester, while 
 the now awakened Skitt offered to bet his head on the 
 fact, and even Cruppledean gave an affirmative nod. 
 
 "She said tome," continued Prouter, "when I told her 
 that I was ready any day to stand as a model for her, 
 having nothing to do " 
 
 "A model! " cried Parchester. "A pretty model you'd 
 make!" 
 
 " Well, she only took my back," said Prouter, " so you 
 need not be jealous. And she said to me when I told her 
 I had nothing to do, ' That is a pity ! ' And ever since I 
 have been thinking it is a pity. Now I am going to stop 
 it! I intend to work! " 
 
 "What are you going to do? " said Cruppledean. 
 
 "That is the rub," said Prouter, "or, at least, that was 
 the rub until a little while ago. Now I have settled it. I 
 am going to start a milk route." 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 53 
 
 The three pupils burst into a roar of laughter. 
 
 " You needn't laugh," said Prouter. " I have got it all 
 straightened out in my mind. It is of no use for me to 
 try a farm, or to grow vines or wool, or to go into any- 
 thing of that sort. I don't know how and haven't time 
 to learn. But I can manage a milk route just as well as 
 anybody. I have been watching a milk route lately, and 
 know exactly how the thing is done. It will be just the 
 sort of business I like. Lively and brisk ! Lots of cutting 
 around to see if the cows are all right and the men at 
 their work, the wagons all started off bright and early, the 
 customers all satisfied. I'm wild to get at it. By jingo! 
 I will go down and tell Dunworth ! " 
 
 And before his laughing friends could stop him he had 
 clumped down the stairs to the room on the first floor 
 where the master of the house slept, and knocked loudly 
 on the door. Dunworth had been asleep three or four 
 hours and awoke with a start. 
 
 "Hello!" he cried. 
 
 Prouter opened the door and put in his head. 
 
 "What is it? " exclaimed Dunworth, sitting up in bed. 
 " Is it fire?" 
 
 The room was but dimly lighted by the moon, but 
 Prouter could see that Dunworth was just about to spring 
 out of bed. " No," cried the young Englishman, " I am 
 going to start a milk route." 
 
 "What!" exclaimed Dunworth. 
 
 "I am going to start a milk route," repeated Prouter; 
 "and I thought it mean to let the other fellows know 
 without coming to tell you too." 
 
 At this moment Dunworth jumped heavily to the floor, 
 but before he could reach the door Prouter shut it with a 
 jerk and sped up-stairs, one shoe off and one shoe on, and 
 his breast full of merriment and rapturous enthusiasm. He 
 
54 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 talked but little more of his plans because the others in- 
 sisted that he should go to bed and let them sleep ; but 
 before sunrise the next morning he had harnessed his 
 horse Jerry to his dog-cart and had driven away at top 
 speed to take the sugar and grocery stuff to the Quantrills, 
 to give the time-table to Miss Airpenny, and to make ar- 
 rangements for the starting of his milk route. 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 55 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 DR. LESTER lived in a small house which stood 
 in the spacious yard of a large house. The latter 
 building had been partially burned years before, and was 
 now uninhabited. It belonged to m mbers of Dr. Les- 
 ter's family, and while living in the small house he was 
 enabled to keep an eye upon the property. It may also 
 be said that it suited him perfectly to live by himself in 
 this independent manner. About a quarter of a mile 
 away was a cabin, in which dwelt an old negro woman 
 who cooked for him and attended to his house. 
 
 The doctor was a good friend to all the colored people 
 in the neighborhood. They came to him for advice and 
 information and for the solution of knotty points of dif- 
 ference. Only in one respect could they expect no coun- 
 sel from him. He would not prescribe, even for the most 
 trifling ailment. If anything was the matter with their 
 bodies he would send them to a v octor, and he had been 
 known in urgent cases to go himself for a physician to 
 attend to some suffering negro. But to a question involv- 
 ing negro notions of law and equity he would give his 
 most earnest attention and thought; and his decisions 
 were generally accepted as final. 
 
 The doctor's house consisted of one large room, with a 
 little adjoining chamber in which he slept. The walls of 
 the large room were lined with books, nearly all of them 
 old and of a standard character ; and specimens of min- 
 erals, dried plants, animals and birds occupied every avail- 
 able shelf and corner. A work-bench stood at one win- 
 
56 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 dow, a turning-lathe near by; and wherever there was 
 room for them could be seen little machines and contri- 
 vances, or articles of use arid ornament, which the doctor 
 had made, and which indicated an untiring industry joined 
 with skill and ingenuity, but without commensurate aim. 
 
 Dr. Lester was sitting by his open door in a large 
 leathern arm-chair, the cushions of which were so worn 
 into hollows that they would have been a torture to any 
 one who had not, like the doctor, learned to adapt himself 
 to their eccentricities. Opposite to him, on a smaller 
 chair, sat Bonetti. Both were smoking pipes with long 
 reed stems and bowls made of the red Powhatan clay so 
 much prized by Virginians of the older school. The after- 
 noon was bright and cheerful ; the doctor was glad to have 
 some one drop in on him ; and Bonetti was in his usual 
 good-humor. But now for some minutes neither had 
 spoken a word. Bonetti much desired to talk about Miss 
 Claverden, and to find out what the doctor had said, done, 
 or thought in the direction of that young lady since he 
 had last seen him. But there were times when the doctor 
 did not care to talk upon this subject, and as this might 
 be one of those times Bonetti hesitated about broaching 
 his questions. 
 
 Suddenly he started. "Ho!" he cried, "here she 
 comes ! " 
 
 "Who?" asked the doctor, looking quickly toward the 
 door. 
 
 " Miss Ardis," said Bonetti. " She is coming down the 
 road in the open carriage with the bay horses, and George 
 is driving with his high-top hat on. She is coming in style." 
 
 The doctor gave one look outside, then sprang to his 
 feet, put down his pipe, and stepping to a small looking- 
 glass, swiftly combed his somewhat rumpled hair, brushed 
 the collar of his coat, and approached the door. 
 
ARDIS CLA VERDEN. 
 
 57 
 
 "Where are you going? " said Bonetti. 
 
 " I shall speak to her as she passes," said the doctor. 
 
 Bonetti also put down his pipe and went out, but to the 
 surprise of the two men the carriage did not pass. It 
 turned into the grass-grown drive-way at the other end of 
 the yard, and sweeping past the ruined house, stopped 
 before the doctor's door. 
 
 Miss Ardis sat alone in the carriage. She was hand- 
 somely dressed in a costume which would have been suited 
 to a round of city calls, but with some of that additional 
 touch of the picturesque which is allowable in the coun- 
 try. She carried a large, light-colored parasol, and on her 
 face was a smile of friendly greeting. 
 
 " How do you do, doctor? " she said, extending her hand. 
 
 The doctor gently enveloped the little tan-colored glove 
 in his large, sinewy hand. His bare head was bowed a 
 little as if he had been momentarily impressed with an 
 emotion of reverence. Bonetti stood a little in the rear 
 of the doctor, his hat in his hand. 
 
 "How do you do, Mr. Bonetti?" said Ardis in the 
 same cheerful, friendly tone in which she had spoken 
 before, but she did not extend her hand. 
 
 " Dr. Lester," said Ardis, " I am on my way to the 
 Dalrymple place, and I have stopped here to ask a favor 
 of you." 
 
 " The thing shall be done, Miss Ardis," said the doctor, 
 "whatever it may be." 
 
 She looked at him with a little sparkle in her eye. 
 *' Never smoke again! " she said solemnly. 
 
 The doctor opened his eyes wide, and on Bonetti's face 
 there came a look of astonishment; but before either of 
 them could speak Ardis laughed and said: "Don't be 
 frightened, doctor. That was merely to show you how, if 
 I chose, I could punish you for making such rash promises/' 
 
58 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 " I trust so implicitly to your generosity and justice, 
 Miss Ardis, that I am not afraid to make a blind promise 
 to you." 
 
 " Take my advice," said she, " and never trust anybody 
 so far as that. And now for my business. Father has 
 invited a gentleman to come and stay at our house for 
 some days ; indeed, I don't know for how long. Father 
 will take care of him sometimes, of course, but I don't 
 believe our visitor cares very much for grapevines or 
 farming, and I am afraid that time will hang heavy on his 
 hands. I want the gentlemen of the neighborhood to call 
 on him, and especially you, doctor, for you can help ever so 
 much to make his time pass pleasantly. And I may send 
 him to you, Mr. Bonetti, if he needs a guide and adviser 
 in any out-door explorations." 
 
 " I shall be glad to do anything I can for a friend of 
 yours, Miss Ardis," said Bonetti. 
 
 " Is the gentleman a middle-aged man or a young 
 one?" asked the doctor. 
 
 " He is moderately young," said Ardis. 
 
 " Is he a city man? " he asked. 
 
 "Yes," she said, "but I know he likes the country, and 
 has travelled almost everywhere, I believe. He is Mr. 
 Surrey, of Washington. Will you not ask some of the 
 gentlemen to call on him I know he is fond of company 
 Mr. Dunworth, for instance, and those young Englishmen 
 who are at his house ? They are very pleasant young men." 
 
 "All you have to do is to speak to Dunworth about 
 that," said the doctor. " I am sure he is at your service 
 in every way." 
 
 " But I don't care to go about the country," said Ardis, 
 with a laugh, " asking young men to come to see another 
 young man. I wish you would mention the matter to 
 Mr. Dunworth some time soon." 
 
ARDIS CLA VERDEN. 
 
 59 
 
 "Of course I will do that, Miss Ardis," said the doc- 
 tor, " but it seems to me it is not such a very long time 
 ago since I saw you ride at full gallop up to Dunworth's 
 door, with your two dogs after you, and invite him and 
 everybody else to Bald Hill to supper and a dance after- 
 ward." 
 
 " Your memory goes back more years than you sup- 
 pose," said Ardis, laughing. " That sort of thing may 
 have been, but it is not. Haven't you noticed that people 
 sometimes grow older, doctor? Now, I may depend on 
 you to help us entertain Mr. Surrey, may I not? " 
 
 " You may always depend upon me," said the doctor. 
 
 " Thank you ever so much," said Ardis ; and with a 
 farewell smile and nod which included them both, she 
 drove away. 
 
 The doctor stood silent, his eyes on the swiftly depart- 
 ing carriage. 
 
 "Suppose," said Bonetti, reflectively, "she were to say 
 to you: 'There are a number of persons who are trying 
 to marry me, and if any one of them succeeds, misery 
 will come upon me. You are the only one who can pro- 
 tect me from this danger. If you will marry me, I am 
 safe.' What would you say in such a case? " 
 
 " Bonnet," cried the doctor, " if you had lived in the 
 Middle Ages they would have made you a mental tor- 
 turer ! How dare you rack me in that way and at this 
 moment, too?" 
 
 " I merely wanted to know," said Bonetti, " if there was 
 anything that would make you let go your resolution ; but 
 if you are not prepared to answer, no matter. It seems 
 to me that she has not given you a very agreeable piece 
 of business." 
 
 "Agreeable! " exclaimed the doctor, " I should say not! 
 It would suit me much better to make it unpleasant for a 
 
60 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 young city man coming into these parts than to make him 
 want to stay." 
 
 " But you are going to make it pleasant for him? " said 
 the other. 
 
 "Bonnet," replied Dr. Lester, "if she were to ask me 
 to sit on a hot rock and bake batter-cakes for Apollyon, 
 I would do it! But I don't pretend to say that I would 
 like it." 
 
 As Bonetti walked slowly homeward, about half an hour 
 afterward, he said to himself: " I have made supposes 
 about most of the fixes that Dr. Lester could get him- 
 self into concerning this matter, but there is one thing that 
 I haven't worked up yet, and that is what will happen 
 when Miss Ardis finds out how Dr. Lester thinks about 
 her. She hasn't the least notion of it now ; that's as plain 
 as daylight. And the main point of the matter is, not so 
 much what she will do when she finds it out, as what he 
 will do when she has done what she will do when she finds 
 it out." And pondering on this question, the philoso- 
 phizer pursued his leisurely way. 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 61 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 WHEN Ardis Claverden had driven away from Dr. 
 Lesters door, and had reached the high road, she 
 leaned forward to her coachman and said: " George, those 
 horses have been doing nothing for two days. Now, don't 
 let them loiter on the road! " 
 
 George was a dashing coachman as well as a skilful 
 one, and for that reason his position in the Bald Hill es- 
 tablishment was secure. Sympathizing thoroughly with 
 the liking of his young mistress for rapid motion, he 
 touched up his two bays; both animals of good blood, 
 raised, broken, and trained on the Bald Hill farm. They 
 did not loiter, but with swift strides sped over the road. 
 Bowling over the smooth stretches ; dashing up the hills 
 with a strong, hard trot, but pulling up to a slower pace 
 on the descents ; cautiously and skilfully passing over the 
 stony spots, but not always with slackened speed; with 
 his horses tossing their heads in their enjoyment of their 
 free, swift motion, George drew up at the Dalrymple 
 house before even Ardis thought there had been time to 
 get there. 
 
 Ardis was but slightly acquainted with this family, but 
 they were new-comers and she was very willing to be civil 
 to them and, should there be reason for it, to be friendly 
 with them. 
 
 On the other hand, Mrs. Dalrymple disliked Ardis, or, 
 as she would have put it, disapproved of her. She con- 
 sidered her manner of life as entirely too independent for 
 a young girl. She thought Miss Claverden should have 
 
62 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 an elderly lady to live in the house and chaperone her. 
 She did not think a young woman should be driving 
 around the country by herself, and although she knew of 
 nothing unseemly that Ardis had ever done, except allow- 
 ing her coachman to dash up a driveway at an improper 
 rate of speed, she felt assured that an independent young 
 woman who would do such an unseemly thing would do a 
 great many other unseemly things. 
 
 Miss Dalrymple could not make up her mind whether 
 she disliked Ardis or envied her. There were often times 
 when she would have liked to do as she pleased, but there 
 were also times when she looked with aversion upon people 
 who did as they pleased. Should she ever decide to imi- 
 tate Ardis, she would probably be a blind follower of her 
 as far as circumstances would allow, but should she decide 
 to disapprove of her, her disapproval would be very strong. 
 At present Miss Cecilia Dalrymple did not wish to com- 
 mit herself in any way, and her few remarks did not add 
 to the interest of the conversation. 
 
 Mr. Dalrymple liked Ardis. When he returned from 
 the call at Bald Hill he spoke very highly of her. He said 
 he thought she was a fine, spirited girl, of remarkably 
 pleasant manners, and very handsome, and he thought it 
 might be a very good thing for Cecilia if the two were to 
 become friends. But these remarks had no influence, or 
 at least no favorable influence, on the opinions of his wife 
 and daughter ; and as he was not at home that afternoon, 
 his good opinion of Ardis was of no advantage in making 
 her call a pleasant one. 
 
 " Did you not say the other day," remarked Ardis to 
 Mrs. Dalrymple, " that you have a son whom you expect 
 here shortly?" 
 
 Mrs. Dalrymple opened her eyes and hardened her 
 mouth. She would have glanced at her daughter, but 
 
ARDIS CLA VERDEN. 63 
 
 Ardis was looking at her. " Yes," said she, " I have a 
 son, and we expect him in a few days." 
 
 " I am glad to hear it," said Ardis, " because there is to 
 be a gentleman at our house who, I fear, will find the 
 place very dull. We shall be so glad if your son will call 
 upon him. It would be difficult to regulate the etiquette 
 in such a case, I suppose. Father visits very little, and it 
 is scarcely to be expected that he should call on a young 
 man, and of course there is no one else in our house to 
 do it." 
 
 "I should say not," remarked Mrs. Dalrymple, very 
 decidedly. 
 
 "But out here in the country," continued Ardis, "we 
 get over those things in as easy and as friendly a way as 
 possible; and if your son should ride down and see 
 father and Mr. Surrey, I am sure they would both be de- 
 lighted." 
 
 Mrs. Dalrymple made no promises for her son. She 
 thanked Ardis and passed to another subject. 
 
 When the visitor arose the two ladies accompanied her 
 to the door; and as the carriage drove away Mrs. Dal- 
 rymple looked after it and remarked: "I hope I shall 
 never see you, Cecilia, driving about the country by your- 
 self in that way! " 
 
 At that moment Cecilia was thinking that it would be 
 the most delightful thing in the world to sit alone in a 
 carriage like that, and be driven wherever she wanted to 
 go, and just as fast as she wanted to go. 
 
 "And never in my life," continued Mrs. Dalrymple, 
 " did I hear anything as barefaced as that girl's speech ! 
 Actually to ask me to send my son to see her! I wouldn't 
 have expected that, even of Miss Ardis Claverden ! " 
 
 Cecilia's mind was on the point of revolving, but the 
 influence of the carriage was still strong upon her. " I 
 
64 A RDIS CLA VERDEN. 
 
 don't suppose that Egbert would care for a girl like that," 
 she said, abstractedly. 
 
 As Ardis drove away the air seemed pleasanter to her, 
 the sky brighter above her than she had remembered it as 
 she drove toward the house. She did not know that Mrs. 
 Dalrymple did not like her, or that Miss Dalrymple was 
 in doubt about her, but the sense of relief which came 
 upon her as she left them, although she did not recognize 
 its true nature, was agreeable to her. 
 
 " Now I will go to Heatherley," she said to George. 
 
 A drive of about three miles, the last portion of which 
 was on a private road through pasture land, brought them 
 to a large house which stood well in upon its own do- 
 main. This was the homestead of the Crantons, a family 
 of large size and extensive ramifications. The house had 
 once been in better condition ; the family had once been 
 richer ; but there was an air of life and movement about 
 the place which made it much more interesting and at- 
 tractive than many of the better houses of richer people. 
 There were dogs on the porch and dogs wandering here 
 and there around the house. A flock of turkeys scattered 
 themselves over the lawn, which sloped by several natural 
 terraces down to a little stream or "branch." Some 
 colts scampered through the apple orchard which stretched 
 itself around three sides of the house. Little darky 
 children sat playing on the grass. A large negro girl, 
 holding in her arms a very little one, stood gazing at the 
 new-comers. At a cluster of log-cabins, a short distance 
 from the house, colored women were coming and going. 
 Two stout negro boys were cutting wood. On a grassy 
 road by the branch a long line of cows were coming in 
 from pasture, a small boy in the rear cracking a home- 
 made whip. A heavy farm wagon, laden with great logs 
 of wood and drawn by four horses, with a colored man 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEX. 65 
 
 on the near wheeler, bestriding a brass-mounted army 
 saddle and wearing enormous high boots, came creaking 
 up toward the wood-cutters. Altogether, the place much 
 resembled a Southern farm of the olden time. 
 
 Ardis ran up the steps of the porch, patting the heads 
 of two or three dogs as she did so, while George drove 
 over to the cabins to have a chat with his friends and, 
 possibly, relatives. There was nobody in the great hall ; 
 nobody in the parlor, the door of which stood wide open ; 
 nobody in the dining-room, and nobody on the stairs. 
 But Ardis, who felt perfectly at home, knew where to go 
 to look for her particular friend Norma, whom especially 
 she had come to see. 
 
 Norma Cranton was the housekeeping daughter of the 
 family, and Ardis's intimate acquaintance with her dis- 
 position and habits prompted her to make her way di- 
 rectly to the store-room. In this large, well-filled room 
 she found Norma, a long apron reaching from her chin to 
 her toes, and her plump face a little dappled with flour, 
 sitting before a small table on which were spice boxes 
 and a cookery book. Norma was short, somewhat stoutly 
 built, with a pleasing face, a genial nature, and passion- 
 ately fond of Ardis. She sprang to her feet, and forget- 
 ting the existence of such a thing as flour, kissed her 
 visitor again and again. The colored woman who was as- 
 sisting Norma brought a chair for Ardis, and then de- 
 parted, knowing that work for the present was sus- 
 pended. 
 
 " What I particularly came for," said Ardis, presently, 
 " is to ask you to come and spend a few days with me, or 
 perhaps a week, or it may be even longer." 
 
 "Now?" asked Norma. 
 
 " Yes ; to-morrow." 
 
 "Simply impossible," said Norma. "To-morrow I 
 5 
 
66 ARDIS CLAVEKDEX. 
 
 begin to preserve peaches. I have bushels of them all 
 ready. Why do you want me now? " 
 
 " Father has invited a gentleman to come and stay at 
 our house," said Ardis. " It was a most unexpected thing 
 to me. This gentleman, Mr. Surrey. I met last winter at 
 Aunt Mabel's, 'in Washington, and the other day he wrote 
 to me that he was coming to Bolton for a few days and 
 asked permission to call on me. I mentioned the matter 
 to father and he immediately sat down and wrote to Mr. 
 Surrey, inviting him to stay at our house during his sojourn 
 in this neighborhood. The fact that he was a friend of 
 his sister Mabel was enough for father. Of course I was 
 dreadfully disturbed when I heard that the letter had gone, 
 but there was no help for it then, and I said nothing about 
 it. Father interferes so little in the management of these 
 things that I could not bear to find fault with him for this." 
 
 " Is he a young man? " asked Norma. 
 
 "Well, he is not exactly a young man," said Ardis, 
 " but I don't believe he is thirty. He has been married 
 once, and his wife soon died and left him with a little 
 son, now four years old. There is something very odd 
 about this, for the child is rich, the property coming from 
 the mother's family, while Mr. Surrey has no money to 
 speak of. He has not even the care of his boy." 
 
 " How did that come about? " asked Norma. 
 
 "Aunt Mabel told me the story, but I don't remember 
 it exactly," said Ardis. " But the point is that a grand- 
 father made a will by which Mr. Surrey was not to have 
 anything to do with the boy's money or the child himself. 
 And of course Mr. Surrey had to agree to that or else 
 keep his son out of a fortune." 
 
 " I wouldn't have given up one of my sons for any for- 
 tune ! " said Norma. "And if this gentleman is a widower, 
 I suppose your father thinks him an elderly man." 
 
ARD1S CLATERDEN. 67 
 
 " I have no doubt of it," said Ardis, " though I never 
 thought of that before. But I do know that he expects 
 Mr. Surrey to be his visitor, and I am sure he will find 
 that he is mistaken. That man, I am sure, prefers the 
 society of young people to that of his elders, and it will 
 simply end in his being thrown on my hands." 
 
 "Is he good-looking?" asked Norma. 
 
 " In a certain way, yes," said Ardis. " He is rather too 
 florid, and somewhat inclined to be heavy ; but he is very 
 bright and lively and full of fun, and that often makes 
 him look handsomer than he really is." 
 
 "And how long is he going to stay? " said Norma. 
 
 " I really do not know certainly a few days ; but father 
 will keep him with us as long as he is down here. He 
 comes on business, I think. But, as I told you, Norma, 
 I know very well that he is not going to be father's visitor ; 
 and so I have asked Dr. Lester to come to see him and 
 to get some of the young men of the neighborhood to 
 drop in. Will not your brother Curtis come? " 
 
 " My dear Ardis," cried Norma, " you know Curtis is 
 so bashful that if you were to ask him to call on a gay city 
 gentleman, he would betake himself to the woods and stay 
 there." 
 
 "Curtis or no Curtis, I intend to have Norma," said 
 Ardis. 
 
 "But, Ardis," exclaimed Norma, "you see how I am 
 situated. To-morrow I must go to work at my peaches, 
 and the next day there will be ever so much that will have 
 to be straightened out. The day after that I might go to 
 you, perhaps, for a day or two." 
 
 " Norma," said Ardis, " Mr. Surrey is coming the day 
 after to-morrow. I want you in the house with me when 
 he arrives." 
 
 " But, Ardis " 
 
68 ARDIS CLAVEKDEN. 
 
 " No buts," said Ardis. " Everything shall be arranged. 
 I shall stay here and help you with your peaches. I will 
 go now and send George home with a message to father 
 that I am to be sent for to-morrow evening, and that I 
 shall take you to Bald Hill with me. We will get up very 
 early to-morrow morning; you shall lend me one of your 
 old dresses, and those peaches shall all be in their jars 
 and everything shall be straightened up in time for us 
 two to get to Bald Hill to supper." 
 
 And without waiting to hear her friend's remarks on 
 this arrangement, Ardis ran out to send George and the 
 carriage home. 
 
 Very early the next morning the two girls were up and 
 at work; Ardis in a blue-spotted calico gown, somewhat 
 too short and a good deal too wide for her, and with a 
 white apron fastened up under her chin. All the colored 
 assistance which could be conveniently employed was 
 called in, and throughout the morning and a portion of 
 the afternoon the paring, the stoning, the cutting, the boil- 
 ing, the bubbling, the sweetening, the tasting, the dipping, 
 the pouring, and the talk went on. Ardis lent a hand to 
 everything, but besides the work she did herself she found 
 time to make others work as they had never worked before. 
 She would even run out to hasten the motions of the boys 
 who were cutting the wood which the great stove so stead- 
 ily devoured. 
 
 About four o'clock in the afternoon everything was fin- 
 ished except a few little matters of " straightening out " 
 which Norm a could very well attend to by herself, and 
 Ardis, heated and quite satiated with the smell of cooking 
 peaches, went out into the air and took a seat on the 
 shaded front porch. She had been sitting here but a few 
 minutes when a white boy mounted on a large, fine horse 
 rode up to the house. 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 69 
 
 "Is Mr. Curtis in?" he asked. 
 
 " No," said Ardis, " he is out at work on the lowlands." 
 
 " Is any of the men here? " said the boy. 
 
 " They are all out with Mr. Curtis. I know that he 
 took every one of them." 
 
 " Is Harrison Cranton here? " asked the boy. 
 
 " No," said Ardis, with a smile, " even Harrison has 
 gone with his brother. Is there anything I can do for 
 you?" 
 
 " No, ma'am," said the boy, with a doleful expression. 
 " One of the young steers that was just bought has got 
 away and is going home just as fast as he can, and Tom 
 Harris put me on this horse and told me to go after him. 
 But the steer, he keeps a-runnin' and I can't get ahead of 
 him with this horse." 
 
 "Are you afraid of the horse? " asked Ardis. 
 
 " I'm not afraid of him when he walks, but when I 
 make him go fast he charges, and when he charges he 
 skeers me, so I just turned him in here, reckonin' Mr. 
 Curtis was home." 
 
 "And you thought if Mr. Curtis were here he would get 
 on the horse and head off the steer for you? " asked Ardis. 
 
 " Yes, ma'am," said the boy. " He wouldn't care if 
 the horse charged all he had a mind to." 
 
 Ardis came forward to the steps and looked at the 
 horse. He was a magnificent animal. She had been 
 shut up all day in a hot and stifling room. " Wait one 
 minute," she said to the boy, "and everything shall be 
 made right for you." And with this she went into the 
 house and ran up-siairs. 
 
 In one of the rooms she found an old riding-skirt be- 
 longing to Norma. This she quickly slipped on, and from 
 the room of the boy Harrison she took a pair of his top 
 boots, which she found fitted her very well. She dashed 
 
70 ARDIS CLAVERDEN-. 
 
 into her room, got her gloves, and ran down-stairs. She 
 took a soft felt hat from the rack, put it on, and went out 
 to the boy. 
 
 " I will ride your horse and go after the steer," she said. 
 " I feel just like taking a good gallop! " 
 
 "O ma'am," cried the boy, "this isn't the kind of 
 horse for a lady to ride ! " 
 
 "Any kind of a horse is the kind for me to ride," said 
 Ardis, going down the steps, " except a poor one. Now 
 get down, and I will hold him while you run to the car- 
 riage-house and bring that side-saddle that you will see 
 hanging on a peg close to the door." 
 
 The boy looked astonished, but got down. " He'll run 
 away with you," he said deprecatingly, as his feet touched 
 the ground. 
 
 "I'll attend to that! " said Ardis. "And you be quick, 
 or your steer will get entirely away." 
 
 The boy ran to the carriage-house and soon returned 
 with the saddle. Under Ardis's directions he quickly put 
 it on the horse, in place of the one on which he had rid- 
 den, and then, having carefully examined the girth and 
 the stirrup, she prepared to mount. " Lead him up here! " 
 she said, as she stood on one of the porch steps. But the 
 horse tossed his head and refused to turn around so that 
 she could reach him. 
 
 " Go on that side of him, and give him a good smack! " 
 said Ardis. 
 
 The boy, half-frightened at his own presumption, gave 
 the horse a " smack," and the animal moving with a start 
 toward the steps, Ardis laid hold of the pommel and 
 sprang into the saddle. Quickly giving herself a firm 
 seat, she took the bridle from the boy, and with a little 
 help from him she put her foot in the stirrup. The 
 horse wheeled around as soon as the boy released the 
 
ARDIS CLA VERDE X. 71 
 
 bridle, and Ardis called out: "Oh, I forgot the whip! 
 Run in and get me one from the rack, please! " 
 
 "Oh, you mustn't hit him !" exclaimed the boy. "If 
 you hit him he'll jump right out of his skin! " 
 
 " I will hit him just hard enough to make him jump 
 nearly out of his skin, but not quite," said Ardis. " Get 
 me the whip! " 
 
 The boy said no more, but brought her a heavy riding- 
 whip which belonged to Mr. Curtis. 
 
 " It is too big," said she, " but no matter. Which way 
 did your steer go?" 
 
 " He's gone up the road, and if he finds a break in the 
 fence he'll cut across the fields and git into the woods, 
 and if he does that we'll never ketch him. He'll go 
 straight through to Page County, where he was raised." 
 
 " Take your saddle dbwn to the gate," said Ardis, " and 
 wait for m* there." 
 
 At first the horse appeared inclined to be dissatisfied 
 with his rider. He danced sidewise and made one or two 
 revolutions, but a sharp tap on the flank and a firm hand 
 on the bit soon brought him to his senses, and he started 
 off on a quick trot. Out on the high road Ardis could 
 see nothing of the fugitive steer, but urging her horse into 
 a gallop she soon caught sight of the animal far up the 
 road. 
 
 A dash of a few minutes brought the sound of her 
 horse's hoofs to the ears of the young steer. He threw 
 up his head and broke into a wild run. Not far ahead 
 was a turn in the road, and there a gate into a field stood 
 open. This field was a wide hillside of coarse grass and 
 sassafras bushes, intersected here and there by deep 
 gullies. Directly toward the nearest of these the steer 
 made his way, plunged down into it, and bounded up on 
 the other side. When Ardis reached it he was rapidly 
 
72 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 making his way diagonally across the hillside toward a 
 stretch of forest land half a mile away. 
 
 The horse was now thoroughly excited. Had not Ardis 
 held him strongly back he would have dashed into the 
 gully; it was too wide for him to leap; but Ardis knew 
 that where young cattle may safely scramble, horses may 
 come to grief, and turning her steed she made for the 
 head of the gully. She now saw that a rough cart-track 
 led from the gate through which she had passed by a wide, 
 circuitous bend around the heads of several gullies up to 
 an opening in the woods, where there was probably a 
 roadway through the forest. To this opening the steer 
 was evidently directing his course, and if he got into the 
 narrow road Ardis might despair of being able to head 
 him off. But although the distance by the cart-track was 
 greater than that which the steer would travel, Ardis knew 
 that it would be better for her to follow it than to en- 
 deavor to cross the gullies. 
 
 She put the horse to the top of his speed and dashed 
 up the road. There was no need of urging that animal. 
 Once on fire with the consciousness that he could go as 
 fast as he pleased, he thundered over the ground. Never 
 before had Ardis had such a horse beneath her! She 
 could feel the swift play of his powerful muscles ; his hot 
 breath flew past her ; her own blood was hot in her veins ; 
 it seemed as if she herself were making those tremendous 
 bounds ; as if she were a wild, free, powerful being, rush- 
 ing through the sparkling air. 
 
 Her own riding-mare was a fine animal, speedy and 
 true, but this fellow was a king of horses, and his blood 
 was up. 
 
 The steer was within fifty yards of the woods when 
 Ardis rounded the last gully. The runaway animal saw 
 his opportunity, and was galloping madly. Ardis leaned 
 
ARDIS CLAVE RDEN. 
 
 73 
 
 forward and shouted to her horse, who, throwing all his 
 fire, all his mighty strength, into one wild burst of speed, 
 rushed at the opening, almost brushed the steer, and 
 dashed past him. Three lengths within the roadway, shut 
 in on each side by heavy timber and underbrush, Ardis 
 brought him up and whirled him round, his hoofs striking 
 fire from the loose stones and his haunches crushing into 
 the brushwood. A low bough took off her hat, but she 
 did not know it, nor that the heel of her boot had scratched 
 the bark from a tree. The steer was before her, about 
 to rush past her. Urging her horse, trembling and tramp- 
 ing with excitement, directly upon the wild-eyed creature, 
 she leaned forward, brandishing her whip in the face of 
 the steer until the animal snorted, backed, and then turned 
 and rushed out of the woods. 
 
 Ardis was instantly after him. She had him now in her 
 power. Her horse could move more swiftly than he 
 could, and whenever the steer made a dash toward the 
 woods, Ardis interposed herself and her whip. Presently 
 the steer stopped, Ardis charged upon him, and he set 
 off down the cart-track on a trot. Once or twice he veered 
 toward the gullies, but Ardis kept close to him and turned 
 him to the way he should go, and, at last, fixing his eyes 
 on the open gateway he galloped toward it, and out of it. 
 
 Of course the steer turned the wrong way and went up 
 the road, but Ardis rode out of the gate, and, without dis- 
 mounting, closed and latched it. Then she galloped after 
 the steer, and as he had but little start of her she soon 
 passed him and turned him. Now patting the neck, and 
 quieting down the fierce excitement of the grand animal 
 she rode, she drove the steer back to Heatherley. 
 
 Ardis found the boy sitting on the gate-post. He re- 
 ceived her with an air of subdued admiration. Springing 
 to the ground, she said: "You can change the saddles 
 
74 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 here and leave this one at the gate. I will send for it. 
 Do you think you can drive the steer home now? He 
 must be tired of running." 
 
 " Oh, yes, ma'am," said the boy, " I can make him go 
 ahead no'v. But where's your hat, ma'am? " 
 
 Ardis put her hand to her head. " I have lost it," she 
 said, " and I really did not miss it. And now you tell 
 Tom Harris not to put you on such a horse as that again. 
 By-the-way, where is Tom Harris working now?" 
 
 " He is working for Mr. Dunworth," said the boy. 
 
 "Is that Mr. Dunworth's horse? " exclaimed Ardis. 
 
 " Yes, ma'am." 
 
 "And that his steer?" 
 
 " Yes, ma'am." 
 
 Ardis looked at the boy. A little frown succeeded by 
 a li tie smile appeared upon her face ; and without further 
 remark she walked to the house. 
 
 "Ardis," said Norma to her friend with the bright eyes 
 and glowing cheeks, " it doesn't matter in the least about 
 the hat; I don't know who it belonged to and it will 
 never be missed, for there are always hats enough and to 
 spare, and as for the skirt, it was an old one anyway and 
 those places can easily be mended ; but there was not the 
 least necessity for your going after that runaway creature." 
 
 "Necessity! Of course not!" said Ardis. "I wanted 
 a bit of wild exhilaration to take away the smell of cooked 
 peaches ; and I assure you, Norma, it took it away." 
 
 "I wonder what Mr. Surrey would have said," re- 
 marked Norma, " if he could have seen you riding after 
 cattle in that style ! " 
 
 "Mr. Surrey!" exclaimed Ardis, "I give myself no 
 concern about what he thinks or says." 
 
 If there was a slight emphasis on the word he, Norma 
 did not perceive it. 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 75 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 ON the afternoon of the next day Norma Cranton was 
 sitting in the library at Bald Hill. She was busily 
 engaged upon a piece of most deliberate handiwork by 
 which a rural scene was evolved in minute stitches upon 
 a piece of linen. At a table near by sat Major Claverden, 
 reading a book of old plays. Suddenly he exclaimed : |j 
 
 " Upon my word ! would you believe that the poet Gray 
 was a plagiarist?" 
 
 " No," cried Norma, looking up suddenly with a flush 
 upon her face, " I would not believe anything of the kind." 
 
 " Well, then, listen to this," said he. " Here in the Epi- 
 logue to the play of ' Every One Has His Fault,' by Mrs. 
 Inchbald, is this line : 
 
 " ' Oft climb the knee the envied kiss to share.' " 
 
 " Gray does not use exactly those words in his Elegy," 
 said Norma. " He says : 
 
 u ' Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.' " 
 
 " But my conscience ! " said the major, " that's near 
 enough to be the most outrageous plagiarism ! " 
 
 " When was that play written ? " asked Norma, her face 
 sparkling with indignant loyalty. 
 
 Major Claverden turned back to the title page. " It 
 was published in 1795," ne sa ^- 
 
 "And the poet Gray died in 1771," said Norma. " Does 
 that look much like plagiarism on his part?" And she 
 put a series of indignant stitches into a duck's tail. 
 
 Major Claverden looked severely at the book. " It is 
 
76 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 plain to me," he said, " that M. P. Andrews, Esquire, who 
 wrote this Epilogue was not a gentleman. If he had 
 marked the line with a quotation, its use would have 
 been perfectly proper, but now we have no reason to be- 
 lieve that he did not steal his other lines. But I suppose," 
 he continued, as he closed the book, "that gentlemen 
 were as scarce in those days as they are now." 
 
 " I do not believe they were scarce in those days," said 
 Norma, flushing up again. " That was a gentlemanly age." 
 
 " Well," said the major with a smile, " we will not dis- 
 cuss the manners or morals of that period." 
 
 Notwithstanding this remark, Norma was about to begin 
 a defence of the morals and manners of that period, when 
 a carriage from the town drove up in front of the door. 
 
 Major Claverden arose and looked through the open 
 window. "This must be Mr. Surrey!" he said. And 
 he hastened out of the room. 
 
 A gentleman attired in a dark-plaid travelling suit, with 
 a light overcoat over his arm, had sprung out of the car- 
 riage before the major appeared on the porch, and was 
 ordering the driver to put down a large, leathern valise, 
 on the top of which was strapped a silver-headed cane and 
 an umbrella. The major hurried down the steps, but 
 before he reached the bottom the gentleman stepped 
 briskly toward him with extended hand. 
 
 " Delighted to see you, Major Claverden," he said. 
 " My name is Surrey." 
 
 As the two men were exchanging the civilities common 
 upon such occasions, Norma Cranton stood in the hallway 
 and observed the newcomer. She saw a man of medium 
 height, strongly built, with good features, a lively expres- 
 sion, and a heavy, reddish-brown moustache. His apparel 
 was handsome and if not of that fashion called " loud," 
 might, preserving the same line of simile, be termed dis- 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 77 
 
 tinct. A person conversant with social demeanors might 
 have judged that Mr. Surrey not only appeared to be a 
 man of the world, but desired to appear as such. 
 
 Norma was not a judge of social demeanors. She 
 knew very little of society except what existed in her State 
 and county at the present day, or had existed on the other 
 side of the ocean in the last century. She saw nothing in 
 Mr. Surrey to which she knew how to object, and yet she 
 did not approve of him. " I believe," she said to herself, 
 "that he would plagiarize just as soon as not!" And 
 then she went forward to meet the gentleman, who was 
 just entering the door. 
 
 Major Claverden presented Mr. Surrey to Miss Cran- 
 ton, and then inquired for his daughter. 
 
 " I will go and find her," said Norma; and she departed 
 with alacrity. 
 
 Ardis was in her own room, sitting by an open window, 
 reading. 
 
 "Don't you know Mr. Surrey is here?" exclaimed 
 Norma, as she entered. 
 
 Ardis laid the book in her lap without closing it. " I 
 heard carriage-wheels," she said, "and supposed he had 
 come." 
 
 " Then why don't you go down? " said Norma. 
 
 " There is no hurry," said Ardis. But she closed the 
 book and werit down. 
 
 Ardis welcomed Mr. Surrey with that charming cordial- 
 ity which she always showed to her father's guests. The 
 visitor was surprised as well as delighted when he saw her. 
 
 "By George! " he said to himself, "she dresses as cor- 
 rectly here in the backwoods as if she were at Newport! " 
 
 That night, when the family at Bald Hill had gone to 
 their rooms, Norma came and sat down by Ardis. Her 
 expression was very serious. 
 
78 ARDIS CLAl'ERDEN. 
 
 " There is something," she said, " of which I feel posi- 
 tively certain, and which I think you ought to know, and 
 yet I don't know whether to speak of it to you or not." 
 
 " If I ought to know it, you should tell it," said Ardis. 
 
 Norma sat silent for a moment. "Very well, then," 
 she said, " I will speak plainly. I have been observing 
 Mr. Surrey very attentively this evening, especially his 
 manner of speaking to you and looking at you ; and I am 
 firmly convinced that he has no business of any impor- 
 tance whatever at Bolton; and that he came into this 
 county on purpose to see you ; and, more than that, that 
 he wants to marry you. Now, Ardis, I have spoken in 
 this candid way to you because I think you ought not to 
 remain in ignorance of these things for a single hour." 
 
 "My dear Norma," said Ardis, with a smile, "I am 
 ever so much obliged to you for telling me this out of 
 your good, kind heart ; but truly, my dear, I saw it all for 
 myself." 
 
 "And what are you going to do about it? " asked Norma. 
 
 "I shall do nothing," replied Ardis. "It is not my 
 affair." 
 
 "But he will make it your affair," persisted Norma. 
 
 " My dear child," said Ardis, taking her friend's rosy 
 face between her white hands, " I really cannot consent 
 to concern myself with other people's ideas and fancies. 
 And now let us go to bed." 
 
 About ten o'clock the next morning Mr. Jack Surrey 
 was walking up and down in the shade of some oak trees 
 on the lawn at Bald Hill. He was smoking a cigarette, 
 and was in radiant good-humor. This was due partly to 
 his pleasant surroundings and partly to the fact that he 
 had made up his mind. Mr. Surrey's intentions generally 
 resembled the erratic flights of fire-flies upon a dark night. 
 To concentrate these intentions into a glow sufficient to 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 79 
 
 show him what he was going to do was very cheering to 
 his soul. 
 
 In the course of that summer he had made up his mind 
 to marry, and of the available ladies of his acquaintance 
 he thought of none more favorably than of Miss Ardis 
 Claverden. He had made her acquaintance during the 
 past winter in Washington, and had seen her frequently ; 
 and the oftener he saw her the more he admired her. But 
 he did not feel altogether sure about her. She might be 
 a very fine lady in the city and yet live in a ramshackle 
 sort of way in the country, at home, which would not at 
 all suit him. There was a good deal of that sort of thing 
 in Virginia. He had come down to see for himself how 
 the land lay, and his good fortune had been fairly stun- 
 ning. He had supposed he would be invited to take some 
 meals at the Claverden place and perhaps to spend a night 
 there, but to be asked to make Bald Hill his home during 
 his stay in the neighborhood was far beyond his expecta- 
 tions. And Ardis at home was far beyond his expectations. 
 
 " By George ! " he said to himself as he blew a line of 
 smoke far out into the morning air, " she is more charm- 
 ing here than she is anywhere else! She is a regular 
 young queen ! " 
 
 And Bald Hill as a whole was satisfactory to Mr. Sur- 
 rey. He was impressed by the air of comfort and pros- 
 perity about the place. To be sure it had none of that 
 appearance of fresh paint, sand-papered grass and general 
 bandboxism which one sees in the swell country places 
 near a city, but there was nothing run-down here, no evi- 
 dences of the wreck and ruin which are supposed to be 
 the common results of the late war. It was apparently a 
 well-kept and well-managed estate; and although the 
 probable income from it, were the owner residing in New 
 York, would have allowed him to do no more than live in 
 
80 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 a modest way and ride about in street-cars, yet here, Mr. 
 Surrey thought, that income enabled him to live like a 
 prince in comparison. Here were plenty of horses raised 
 on the place and costing little to keep ; plenty of servants 
 at wages that seemed to Mr. Surrey like mere bagatelles ; 
 carriages; good living; plenty of room for company; 
 and, better than all, only one child to inherit the whole 
 thing. 
 
 He had just returned from a walk to the vineyard with 
 Major Claverden, who had expatiated fully on the subject 
 of the wine of Bald Hill. To the words of his host Mr. 
 Surrey had listened with great interest. This was some- 
 thing gorgeous! He had sipped Johannisberger ; and 
 what a high old thing it would be to grow that glorious 
 wine on your own place ! The old gentleman spoke like 
 a man who is master of his subject, and the subject was 
 one of the deepest import to Mr. Surrey. He could see 
 no reason why the finest juice in the world should not be 
 produced on this spot. The hardest part of the work and 
 the longest part of the waiting had already been done. 
 It suited Mr. Surrey to join a race near the finish. The 
 idea of one day drinking his own Johannisberger, or wine 
 as good as that, was delightfully stimulating. He had 
 asked a great many questions, and questions which Major 
 Claverden thought very practical and sensible. He had 
 even gone into the subject of bottling, and the branding 
 of corks. 
 
 When they had returned to the house the major had in- 
 formed his daughter that Mr. Surrey was the most intelli- 
 gent and satisfactory visitor he had ever taken to his vine- 
 yard. " He appreciates the value of what I have done 
 and what I am going to do, in a manner very unusual in 
 a man who has never devoted himself to the pursuit of 
 vine-growing. But his mind is capable of grasping 
 
AKDIS CLAVEKDEN. 81 
 
 promptly every detail, and what he does not know he is 
 eager to ask. : ' 
 
 This statement had greatly surprised Ardis. She had 
 supposed that Mr. Surrey would be bored to death by a 
 vineyard discourse ; and that if he got through the ordeal 
 with politeness it would be all that could be expected of 
 him. His active interest appeared unnatural to her, and 
 she must think about it. She made no reply to her father, 
 but went to see what Norma was doing instead of going 
 to see what Mr. Surrey was doing, as had been her inten- 
 tion. 
 
 The cigarette having been smoked, Mr. Surrey threw 
 away the end, and expanded his broad chest. He stopped 
 in his walk and gazed toward the house with an expres- 
 sion of cheery impatience. 
 
 " Now then, young lady," he said almost aloud, " come 
 out, and be courted. If you don't come I shall go and 
 look for you. But I prefer that you should make your 
 appearance outside." 
 
 At that moment Mr. Surrey heard the sound of horse's 
 hoofs on the driveway, not far behind him. Turning 
 quickly he beheld approaching Dr. Lester on his cream- 
 colored horse. A smile came over the face of Jack Surrey. 
 
 "What gay old cock is this? " he wondered. 
 
 Dr. Lester was loyal and true. He had promised Miss 
 Ardis that he would call on the visitor at her house ; and 
 at the earliest suitable moment he had come. He would 
 have much preferred to stay at home ; but he thought of 
 no such thing as staying at home. The moment he saw 
 the smiling gentleman under the trees he disliked him ; 
 but nothing of that feeling was shown in his demeanor. 
 He got down from his horse, and, bridle in hand, walked 
 over the grass. 
 
 " This is Mr. Surrey, I presume," he said. " You must 
 
82 ARDIS ZLAVERDEN. 
 
 excuse, sir, the informality of my introducing myself in 
 this way, but I am a friend of the family, of long standing. 
 My name is Lester Dr. Lester." 
 
 Mr. Surrey begged that informality be not mentioned, 
 shook hands with the doctor, and said he was glad to see 
 him. 
 
 "And now," thought Jack, "if he has come to see the 
 old gentleman I hope he will step along and attend to 
 that matter forthwith." 
 
 But Dr. Lester did not step along. He had come to 
 pay his respects to Mr. Surrey, and he stood with him and 
 asked him if he had ever visited this section of the coun- 
 try before ; how it compared at this season with the more 
 northern States; with similar remarks common on such 
 occasions. Finally the two walked together toward the 
 house, and the cream-colored horse was tied to the limb 
 of a tree. 
 
 When Ardis heard Dr. Lester's voice on the porch she 
 came out and joined the gentlemen. She was very glad 
 to see the doctor. In a certain vague way he seemed a 
 refuge to her. She was gracious and attentive to him in 
 a manner that appeared somewhat pronounced, and which 
 struck Mr. Surrey as being a little odd. 
 
 Presently the major came in from the farm, and Miss 
 Norma made her appearance on the scene, and these two 
 were also very gracious and attentive to the doctor. Mr. 
 Surrey sat and observed. He could not exactly make out 
 Dr. Lester, who was plainly a family friend, and who might 
 also be supposed to be the family physician were it not 
 that Mr. Surrey had never heard of a doctor whose regard 
 for his business reputation would allow him to spend a 
 morning in making a friendly call. 
 
 "If he has nothing to do," thought Jack, "it speaks 
 well for the health of the country; and I like that." 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEX. 83 
 
 Mr. Surrey joined in the general conversation whenever 
 he found himself able to do so, and very soon came to 
 the opinion that Dr. Lester was a man who not only knew 
 a good deal about a lot of things, but who had nothing 
 very pressing to do, for he had allowed his horse to be 
 taken to the stable and had consented to stay to dinner. 
 Mr. Surrey, who could ill endure protracted sedentary 
 conversation, went out after a time to the side porch to 
 stretch his legs and to look at the sky. There was nothing 
 the matter with the sky, and the legs stretched easily. 
 And then he walked up and down with his thumbs in the 
 sleeve-holes of his waistcoat and considered what he 
 should do about Dr. Lester. It seemed impossible for 
 him to carry on the business which he had marked out 
 for himself in the morning, while that man was here. He 
 therefore turned the matter over in his mind to see how 
 he could make the best of present circumstances, this 
 being one of his habitual mental exercises. He concluded 
 that the very best thing to do about Dr. Lester was to 
 stop playing second fiddle in conversations in which he 
 took no particular interest, and to get some good for him- 
 self out of this doctor, who seemed to be well posted on a 
 variety of subjects. 
 
 In pursuance of his determination, Mr. Surrey proposed 
 to the doctor, soon after dinner, to take a walk with him, 
 the major having been called away by his head man. In 
 the course of a long walk, Mr. Surrey received a great 
 deal of information which he mentally disposed of with 
 aptness and good judgment, dropping that which appeared 
 unavailable, and carefully storing away all which might be 
 of future use. He asked questions about the manners 
 and customs of the country, about the game, the peculiar- 
 ities of the soil, the rates of farm wages, the methods of 
 fertilizing, the system under which the roads were kept in 
 
84 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 repair, the grazing capacity of the country, and as many 
 points connected with local politics as he was able to put 
 into shape. 
 
 Dr. Lester replied with willing readiness to all the 
 queries of his companion, but for the first time in his life, 
 as far as he could remember, he took no pleasure in talk- 
 ing on the subjects which ordinarily interested him so 
 much. The truth was that he took no interest in Mr. 
 Surrey. He had promised Miss Ardis that he would do 
 his best to help entertain this visitor to her father's house, 
 and he had honestly endeavored to keep his promise. 
 But the only information which he would cheerfully and 
 gladly have given this gentleman would have been the 
 hour of departure of the next train from Bolton for the 
 North. 
 
 On the other hand, Mr. Surrey approved of the doctor. 
 He was a queer specimen, so grave, so long, and so full 
 of facts; but he had proved himself very serviceable. 
 Mr. Surrey now felt confident that he could make a fair 
 show in the general conversations which might take place 
 at Bald Hill. He knew enough at any rate to ask intelli- 
 gent questions, and that was very important. He had 
 made the best of Dr. Lester, and was, therefore, satisfied 
 with him. But he had no further need of him, and was 
 glad, as they approached the house, to see a saddled horse 
 standing by the hitching-post ; probably in pursuance of 
 orders left by the doctor. 
 
 But as they came nearer Surrey noticed that the horse 
 was not a cream-colored one, but a very fine bay animal. 
 Then he perceived upon the porch the two ladies, the 
 major, and a gentleman. When he reached the house 
 this individual, a tall, good-looking young man, was intro- 
 duced to him as Mr. Dunworth. Jack Surrey did not 
 care about Mr. Dunworth one way or the other, but he 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 85 
 
 was very unpleasantly impressed by the fact that there 
 were a great many more visitors at this Virginia country 
 house than he had imagined there would be. In fact, in 
 coming down here he had supposed that he would have 
 the Miss Claverden field all to himself. 
 
 The doctor and Mr. Dunworth stayed to supper, and 
 for some hours afterward, but the evening was not a very 
 satisfactory one. The major, Norma, and Mr. Surrey 
 talked a good deal, and the others listened a good deal. 
 This listening, which was done by persons who were ac- 
 customed to take their full share of the talking, threw a 
 certain air of constraint over the party. 
 
 About the family bed-time the doctor and Mr. Dun- 
 worth departed, and, as he was taking leave of Ardis, the 
 latter found opportunity to say: "How long is that man 
 going to stay here? " 
 
 " I don't know," she said, "and I don't think you ought 
 to speak of our visitors in that way. I supposed you came 
 here to help make his visit pleasant." 
 
 He smiled a little grimly. " To tell the truth," he said, 
 " I came to see who and what he is. I do not like him." 
 
 " Roger Dunworth ! " said Ardis, severely. 
 
 "Ardis," he replied, "you know very well what I mean. 
 It is because of you that I care enough about him not to 
 like him." 
 
 " You do very wrong," she said flushing, " to place me 
 even in your own mind, in such positions in regard to other 
 people." 
 
 And she did not give him her hand when he left. 
 
 Jack Surrey went to his room disappointed, but not at 
 all disheartened. " The result of this interruption is," he 
 said to himself, " that I shall not count this day as part of 
 my visit. I shall begin fresh to-morrow." 
 
86 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 ON the morrow Mr. Surrey thought it well to give some 
 attention to the ostensible business which had 
 brought him to Bolton. It was not according to Major 
 Claverden's ideas of politeness to ask his visitor any ques- 
 tions concerning this business ; and Surrey was not en- 
 tirely prepared to give such information, had it been asked. 
 Of course, had he been thrown among inquisitive people, 
 he would have had an answer for them, but he was very 
 glad that, so far, he had not been required to make any 
 remarks on the subject. But appearances demanded of 
 him that he should show a proper interest in this business, 
 whatever it might be. And so, after breakfast, he bor- 
 rowed a horse of the major, and rode into town. 
 
 In a general way Mr. Surrey had thought that if he 
 should find it necessary to make known his business in- 
 tentions, he would probably want to look over some papers 
 in the office of the clerk of the county court. He knew 
 Bolton was a county town, and supposed it had a county 
 court with the appertaining clerk, but that said clerk had 
 an office, or that there were any papers in the office, Mr. 
 Surrey was not at all certain. 
 
 On the road to town he was in excellent spirits. He 
 liked this country and this sort of life ; he liked to ride to 
 town on a good horse ; he liked to think that he was com- 
 ing back to spend the rest of the day, and he did not 
 know how many more days, with such a wonderfully fine 
 girl as Ardis Claverden. She would even suit him a great 
 deal better than he had thought she would. She was a 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 87 
 
 little quieter here than when he had met her in the city, 
 but he liked that ; it gave her a new charm. In fact he 
 thought he should like that girl in any mood. To be sure 
 he should prefer some moods to others, but she would ap- 
 pear well in any. 
 
 He did not ride fast, and his quick eyes glanced on 
 every side. He wished to understand and appreciate 
 what he saw, and he made conjectures as to the kind of 
 grain which had been grown in this stubble field or in 
 that. When he reached the bottom of a long hill he saw 
 a man sitting on a fence by the roadside. The man's 
 face was a good-humored one, and wore an expression 
 half of inquisitiveness and half of recognition. Jack liked 
 to talk to people whom he met in this way and he drew 
 up his horse. 
 
 " Fine country you have about here," he said. 
 
 " Well," said the man, " in some ways you may call it 
 fine, but in other ways it's different. But I suppose to 
 people coming from the city, any kind of country looks 
 mighty nice." 
 
 Mr. Surrey did not like this. Wherever he went he 
 wished to be considered perfectly at home. He slightly 
 shrugged his shoulders, but did not deign to explain to 
 this casual stranger that he was quite familiar with all the 
 different kinds of country that there were. He asserted 
 himself, however, so far as to say that he had noticed the 
 people hereabouts had made a great mistake in cutting 
 down so many of their trees, especially on the high 
 roads. 
 
 " Well," said the man on the fence, " some people have 
 one kind of opinion about trees along the road, and some 
 have another. Some like 'em and some don't. But, 
 talkin' of trees, do you see that one, down there at the 
 turn of the roads? Isn't that big and handsome? " 
 
88 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 "Yes," said Mr. Surrey, "that is a very fine tree." 
 " Well, now I'll tell you about that tree," said the man, 
 settling himself more comfortably on his top rail. " Three 
 years ago that tree was a weak, scragly, mean-looking 
 thing. At that time there was a feller in these parts 
 named Pete Creegle, who was a mighty big rascal, one of 
 the worst kind. He made the people round here afraid 
 to go to sleep at night. Sometimes he broke into houses 
 and stole everything he could lay his hands on, and some- 
 times he'd murder a couple of old people to steal seven 
 or eight dollars that they had put away somewhere, and 
 sometimes he'd pour kerosene over a barn and set fire to 
 it and burn up horses, mules and everything in it. He 
 was caught two or three times, but he always got off some 
 way or other; but he was grabbed up right in the middle 
 of his last piece of rascality, and for fear he'd get off 
 again, a party of good citizens took him and hanged him 
 on that tree. Well, sir, from that minute that tree began 
 to feel good. It looked as if it said to itself: 'Now I've 
 been of some real downright service to this county. I've 
 helped the people to get rid of Pete Creegle! I'll be 
 durned if I don't believe I'm a good deal more of a tree 
 than I thought I was/ And then that tree began to 
 hump itself and put on airs. It just grew up and spread 
 out till it got to be the big, handsome tree you see there! 
 Now what do you think of that, sir, for a tree with a good 
 opinion of itself? " 
 
 Jack Surrey was not at all averse to making a little 
 good-natured game of a stranger, and when he had an 
 opportunity he did not refrain from the sport. But he 
 objected to any one making game of him. That sort of 
 thing he would quickly resent. His eyes sparkled a little 
 as he looked steadfastly at the man on the fence. " That 
 was a good piece of work," said he, " and if people about 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 89 
 
 here would plant trees all along the roads, and then hang 
 on them the good-for-nothing, long-legged lazy rascals 
 who sit about in the sun instead of trying to do something 
 to earn their own victuals and soap, they would have the 
 best-shaded roads to be found in this country! " 
 
 And with this Mr. Surrey rode slowly away. 
 
 As a general thing, Bonetti was a good-humored, pleas- 
 ant-tempered man, but now all there was in him of Nea- 
 politan blood came darkly into his face. Getting down 
 from the fence, he went home. 
 
 Jack Surrey rode into town serene, happy, and ready 
 to be interested. He entered the main street, and soon 
 stopped in front of the principal hotel in the place. He 
 gave his horse to a negro boy, taking it for granted that 
 the boy would do for the animal whatever people did to 
 horses on similar occasions. Whether he watered him, 
 fed him, groomed him, or had him shod, the matter con- 
 cerned not the mind of Mr. Surrey. He went into the 
 hotel, bought a cigar, lighted it, came out upon the porch, 
 took a seat in an arm-chair, put his feet up on the railing, 
 and surveyed the passing scene. 
 
 The passing scene was very pleasing to Mr. Surrey. 
 Although he sometimes spent a winter in Washington, he 
 was not accustomed to Southern rural life ; and all he saw 
 was novel and interesting. The peculiar business life of 
 the street exhibiting a certain bustling activity blended 
 with a happy sense of leisure which gave every man time 
 enough to talk to a friend without neglecting his affairs, 
 seemed to Jack the beau ideal of what business life ought 
 to be. It suited him. 
 
 "I should like to ride into town," he thought, "and 
 sell corn and tobacco and wine to these good fellows. By 
 George ! I believe every man knows everybody else ! " 
 
 A melancholy, half-grown ox between the shafts of a 
 
9 o ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 doleful cart, driven by a shriveled-up old negro man wear- 
 ing a battered black silk hat, excited his delight. 
 
 "One couldn't see anything better than that at the 
 theatre,' 1 he thought. 
 
 The negroes, men, women and children, entertained 
 him much. Whether sailing along in finery, or slouching 
 about in rags and old boots, they interested and amused 
 him. A little negro boy, carrying a large basket, stopped 
 and asked him if he wanted his boots blackened. 
 
 "Where are you going with that basket?" asked Mr. 
 Surrey. 
 
 " I's gwine to de stoh fer groc'ri's," said he. 
 
 "And how are you going to blacken my boots? " 
 
 " Oh, I kin black 'em ! " cried the boy, his eyes sparkling 
 with mercenary expectation. " Dar's a boy down de hill 
 wot'll len' me his blackin'-box. Jes' you keep you' eye on 
 dat basket, boss, an' I'll run fotch de box." 
 
 " Look here, you young rascal," said Mr. Surrey, severely, 
 " do you mean to say that when you are sent on errands 
 you stop to go and borrow kits and black people's boots? " 
 
 " Yes, sah," said the boy, his eyes wide open with as- 
 tonishment that any one should doubt his willingness to 
 do such a praiseworthy deed as this. 
 
 " Well, get along, and attend to your business," said 
 Mr. Surrey, "or I will teach you how to go on errands! 
 Take that! " and he tossed him a coin which would have 
 paid for the polishing of his boots. 
 
 Scarcely had the boy departed, grinning, when a high- 
 pitched dog-cart, drawn by a headlong little horse, dashed 
 up to the door, and a young man with rosy face, and 
 dressed in a corduroy suit, sprang out. This individual 
 hurried into the hotel, transacted his business there in a 
 very few minutes, hurried out again, sprang into his dog- 
 cart, and whirled himself away. 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDE1V. g r 
 
 "English!" thought Mr. Surrey. " Know them wher- 
 ever I see them! Slam-bang, dog-cart, and whiskey." 
 
 Mr. Surrey was not averse to any of these things taken 
 in moderation, but it amused him to see other people 
 given to them. He now threw away the end of his cigar 
 and walked up the street. Here he saw shops with a lot 
 of things in them a man might want; in a window a 
 display of cravats which prompted him to go in and buy 
 one ; a little farther on a boy in a stationer's store sawing 
 in half a block of ice which he had just pulled up out of 
 the cellar, and for which a customer with a basket was 
 waiting. 
 
 "This is too jolly!" said Jack Surrey. " Pens, ink, 
 and ice! I wonder if they keep pug pups in there! This 
 sort of thing ought to be written up for the magazines. 
 It would make a first-class illustrated article. I have a 
 mind to do it myself. By George! I will do it! Happy 
 thought! That is my business in this town! Confound 
 the clerk of the county court! I'll have nothing to do 
 with him! I will lay in a stock of tools and go straight 
 to work." 
 
 And turning back, he went into the stationery shop and 
 bought a pocket memorandum-book, pencils, a package 
 of manuscript paper, a bottle of ink, some pens, and a 
 portable inkstand. He then spent about half an hour 
 talking with the proprietor of the establishment, from 
 whom he extracted a variety of curious and interesting 
 facts in regard to the town and the people. 
 
 Having now settled upon his business in Bolton, Jack 
 was joyously satisfied. He returned to the hotel; called 
 for his horse; remunerated the boy with a sum which 
 was royal pay for having simply tied the animal to a post ; 
 and then rode back to Bald Hill. 
 
 " I cannot draw the pictures," he said to himself, as 
 
92 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 his horse, animated by visions of his noontide meal, can- 
 tered briskly homeward. "But that does not matter; I 
 can have them made in New York. I can tell the artist 
 exactly what to draw, and we shall get on well enough." 
 
 Major Claverden met him at the door. " I hope you 
 have had satisfactory success in your affairs, sir," said his 
 host with polite but uninquisitive interest. 
 
 " Oh, splendid! " said Mr. Surrey. " I have got a lot of 
 capital points for the illustrated article I am going to 
 write about Bolton. I had no idea your town, sir, was so 
 full of good bits both for pen and pencil." 
 
 " I hope, sir," said the major, " if your business here 
 is to write an account of our town and neighborhood 
 for Northern readers, that you will give yourself ample 
 opportunity to know us exactly as we are. That is all we 
 desire, sir. But a great deal has been written by persons 
 who made their observations in the most superficial man- 
 ner which outrageously misrepresented us, sir." 
 
 " Oh, you needn't be afraid of anything of that kind 
 in my case," said Jack. " I shall look long indeed into 
 everything I write about, and I haven't any prejudices 
 one way or another. And what is more, major, I shall 
 not mind in the least letting you look over my manuscript 
 before I print it ; so that you may let me know if I have 
 got anything crooked." 
 
 "That is very fair," said the major, "and I shall be 
 glad to do so. Are you an artist, sir, as well as a writer? " 
 
 "No," said Jack, "and there is the rub! I do not 
 draw, and I don't suppose I could find anybody about 
 here who could make sketches for me. But that will 
 make but little difference, for the pictures can be done 
 from descriptions. That is common enough." 
 
 "My daughter, sir," said Major Claverden, "is an ad- 
 mirable artist, and I have no doubt that she will be able 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 93 
 
 to furnish you with sketches which may be useful to 
 you.' 1 
 
 Mr. Surrey's eyes sparkled, "Good!" he exclaimed. 
 "Nothing could be better than that! And I shall be de- 
 lighted to avail myself of any assistance she may be will- 
 ing to give me. 
 
 " Now then," thought Jack, as, when left to himself, he 
 walked up and down the porch, " could anything be more 
 glorious ! She draws ! I write ! Pop ! " 
 
94 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 ON the afternoon of that day Mr. Surrey walked up and 
 down on the grass under the oak trees smoking his 
 cigar. He had had his dinner; he was satisfied with all 
 the world ; and he was waiting for the appearance of Miss 
 Claverden in order that he might discuss with her the 
 subjects of the sketches for his article. He had not men- 
 tioned this matter at dinner, somewhat to his host's sur- 
 prise, for the major thought when a man had anything as 
 important as that to speak of, he would speak of it on the 
 first opportunity. But as his guest made no allusion to 
 the matter, he, of course, made none. 
 
 Jack Surrey valued too highly the opportunities which 
 his proposed discussion might give him to waste any of 
 them in desultory dinner talk. He wished to speak to 
 Ardis alone, and as his cigar drew near its end he began 
 to grow impatient for her appearance. He changed the 
 direction of his walk so he could keep his eyes upon the 
 piazza, porches, and open lower windows of the house. 
 Norma Cranton came out on the side porch, and taking a 
 shaded seat, began to work upon her rural scene on linen. 
 Jack spoke cheerily to her, and presently joined her. 
 
 " Can you tell me," he said, " when Miss Claverden will 
 be likely to make her appearance among us mortals? I, 
 for one, am particularly anxious to see her. I wish to 
 talk to her on business." 
 
 "Business!" exclaimed Norma, her eyes expressing 
 astonishment. 
 
 " Yes, Miss Cranton," said Jack, lazily throwing him- 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 95 
 
 self into a corner of a bench, " business. I don't suppose 
 you look upon me as a business man, but I assure you 
 that is what I am. And I do not mind," he continued, 
 leaning a little forward as he spoke, " telling you what my 
 business is. I believe it is a sort of thing which you will 
 take an interest in; and in which you can help a man 
 very much indeed." 
 
 Norma let her square of linen drop into her lap, and 
 looked at him. 
 
 " I am going to collect as many good points as I can 
 about life in your town and in this part of the country, 
 and when I have taken all the notes I want, and have got 
 a lot of sketches " 
 
 " You are going to write a book for Northern readers," 
 interrupted Norma, "making fun of the people of the 
 South, especially of this region." 
 
 " Not at all, Miss Cranton ! Not at all ! " exclaimed 
 Surrey. "I am not that sort of man, I assure you. Of 
 course I shall bring forth all the odd and quaint charac- 
 teristics, especially of the negroes and ordinary whites; 
 but as to making fun of your people, I would not dream 
 of such a thing, Miss Cranton." 
 
 Norma listened to Mr. Surrey's disclaimer, but his 
 words made no impression upon her. " The books you 
 Northern people write are all alike," she said. "You 
 take what you call the quaint and peculiar characteristics 
 of the negroes and low-down whites, and you put them 
 forward in such a way that the readers of the books think 
 that we are all like that. Now, I consider these traits of 
 the working people as utterly beneath notice. And if 
 you all were to write books which would give a true idea 
 of life down here you would write of the ladies and gen- 
 tlemen you associate with, and put everything else into 
 the background where it belongs." 
 
96 ARD1S CLAVERDEN. 
 
 " Really, Miss Cranton ' said Surrey. But he 
 stopped speaking at the sound of approaching wheels, 
 and the next instant a dog-cart pulled up at the front of 
 the house and a fresh-faced young man, in a corduroy 
 suit, sprang to the ground. 
 
 "Upon my word," said Mr. Surrey, "if there isn't the 
 young Englishman I saw in town to-day/' 
 
 "Yes, 17 said Norma, "it is Mr. Prouter, and I don't be- 
 lieve there is anybody to receive him." And she went 
 through the house to the front. 
 
 Mr. Surrey remained a few moments in the corner of 
 the bench. "It must be business with the major that 
 brings that fellow here," he muttered. Then, hearing 
 voices, he got up and went inside. Through the open 
 windows of the parlor he could look upon the front porch, 
 and there he saw Prouter shaking hands with Ardis. 
 "Confound it! " he said to himself. "She always makes 
 her appearance as soon as any country Tom, Dick, or 
 Harry arrives!" 
 
 Norma was already on the porch, where Major Claver- 
 den soon made his appearance. Surrey, not wishing to 
 be left to himself, joined the group. He was made ac- 
 quainted with Mr. Prouter, but the ceremony did not 
 appear to afford him any gratification. Contrary to his 
 usual manner, he was qui t and a little stiff. Mr. Surrey 
 had no dislike for Englishmen. He had lived a good deal 
 in London; and, as a rule, looked upon a Briton as a 
 jolly good fellow. But he disliked this Englishman be- 
 cause he had thrust himself upon the scene at the momen* 
 when he was hoping for a tete-a-tete with Miss Claverden ; 
 and also because he looked so disgustingly delighted when 
 that lady was shaking him by the hand. 
 
 It being very pleasant on the open porch, the party nov/ 
 took seats there, and Prouter instantly began to talk. 
 
ARDIS CLA VERDKN. 
 
 97 
 
 " Do you know, Miss Claverden," he said, " that I am 
 going into business? I have set up a milk route." 
 
 At this everybody exclaimed in astonishment. "It 
 does sound queer, doesn't it, really? " said Prouter, his 
 face glowing with ruddy fervor. " But that is what I have 
 done. I vowed to myself I would not be the only man 
 in this county with nothing to do. And so I set up a milk 
 route." 
 
 Ardis and Norma were much amused by Mr. Prouter's 
 statement, but the major was filled with grave surprise. 
 " It appears to me, sir," he said, " that you could not have 
 chosen a more unsuitable occupation." 
 
 " Beg pardon," said Prouter, " but if you look at it you 
 will see that that is not the case. Anything better suited 
 to me couldn't be imagined. I must gallop over the 
 country looking for new cows when the old ones give out ; 
 I must ride here, there, and everywhere, buying hay, fod- 
 der, ensilage, and everything else that cattle eat or want ; 
 and I must keep on the go day and night, to see that the 
 milkers and the feeders and the fellows that drive the 
 wagons are kept up to their work and do no shillyshally- 
 ing; and besides that, I've got to increase the line of 
 customers, if I expect the thing to pay, and that will take 
 a lot of going about town and seeing people; to say 
 nothing of riding into Bolton every morning from Quan- 
 trill's a good six miles and back again at night. Now, 
 that's lively, isn't it? And something out-and-out lively 
 is what I want ! " 
 
 "Do you mean, sir," said the major, "that you have 
 already set up your route; that you have collected to- 
 gether everything necessary for such an enterprise? " 
 
 " I have not done anything of that sort," said Prouter. 
 "I found that getting things together for myself would be 
 too slow work, so I bought out Keyser, the milkman in 
 7 
 
98 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 Bolton; I've bought him out, root and branch, cows, milk- 
 pans, stables, wagons, pitchforks, and everything. He 
 hadn't much of a connection, for people didn't like his 
 milk. But I am going to set up the whole business on a 
 new basis. I'll get in a lot of tip -top cows, and shall have 
 all the wagons painted, new and bright, with green bodies 
 and red wheels ; and in big letters on the side, ' Royal 
 Blossom Meadow Milk.' That is the sort of stuff I am 
 going to furnish! American customers won't object to 
 the ' Royal,' and that part of the title will tickle the old- 
 country people hereabouts. I shouldn't wonder if they'd 
 all sell their Yankee cows and buy my milk. That's a 
 tip-top bit of a touch now, isn't it? I don't suppose you 
 want to take milk, do you, Miss Claverden? " 
 
 Ardis laughed. "We have a large herd of cows," she 
 said, " and I hardly think we shall want any of the Royal 
 Blossom Milk, though I wish you all success." 
 
 "Thank you for that," said he, "but I am going to 
 send you some of the milk, anyway. You don't know 
 what glorious milk-punch it makes! I took some of it 
 out to Quantrill's last night in a little pail, and although 
 most of it spilled over my legs, there was enough of it left 
 to make some of the finest punch you ever tasted. Do 
 you fancy milk-punch, sir?" said he, suddenly, turning 
 toward Mr. Surrey. 
 
 " No, sir," said Surrey, promptly, and falsely. 
 
 "I've a great mind to send the punch ready-made," 
 said Prouter. 
 
 "You must bring it yourself, sir," said the major, "but 
 I would not advise you to set up a milk-punch route." 
 
 At this everybody laughed, except Mr. Surrey, and 
 Prouter exclaimed: "I'll tell you, Miss Claverden, that 
 when you want to sketch me again you must take me 
 mounted, with a sombrero and a big cattle whip." 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 99 
 
 "And a lot of milk-pails and churns in the background," 
 added Ardis. 
 
 The conversation continued in this strain for some time, 
 while Mr. Surrey looked on with silent disapproval. 
 
 "So Ardis Claverden sketched this fellow, did she?" 
 And a more impertinent, red-faced puppy, Mr. Surrey 
 thought he had never looked upon. He would like to 
 pop him, head foremost, into one of his own milk-cans. 
 " Why should he come here, thrusting his vulgar business 
 into the notice of gentlemen and ladies? " 
 
 Upon one thing Mr. Surrey quickly made up his mind. 
 To persons like Dr. Lester and Dunworth, who were evi- 
 dently old friends of the family, he would be studiously 
 courteous ; but there was no reason why he should treat 
 this little jackanapes with any respect whatever. Of 
 course he would remember that this person was a visitor 
 in a family where he was also a guest, and he would do 
 nothing out of the way; but if he caught the little rascal 
 interfering in his affair with Ardis Claverden, he would 
 break his neck somewhere off the premises. 
 
 The whole party now walked out to the studio to look 
 at Ardis' picture, which was nearly finished and was 
 unanimously declared to be a capital painting, which, 
 barring some defects of inexperience, it really was. Mr. 
 Prouter, notwithstanding the demands of his new career, 
 staid to supper, at which meal Dr. Lester was also 
 present. The whole of the milk-route business was told 
 again and retalked over, and similar things were done 
 which excited Mr. Surrey's impatience and disgust. But 
 at ten o'clock the two visitors left, and Surrey found an 
 opportunity to have a private talk with Ardis. He put 
 before her the subject of the sketches in a way which in- 
 terested her. She had had no idea that he was a writer, 
 and she was very willing to let him see all the sketches 
 
ioo ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 she had on hand, and to make more for him, if necessary. 
 An interview in the studio was appointed for the next 
 morning, and Jack went to bed greatly encouraged. 
 
 During the two following days there was a great deal of 
 art discussion, and some art work, at Bald Hill. Ardis 
 had sketch-books and portfolios filled with finished, half- 
 finished, and barely begun heads, figures, log-cabins, and 
 all sorts of characteristic " bits," all of which Mr. Surrey de- 
 clared to be exactly what he wanted. Some of the draw- 
 ings he could take just as they were and write up to 
 declaring that most of the illustrated articles of the day 
 were constructed in that way others could be furnished 
 to suit his notes; and there was no end of the capital 
 work they could do together. 
 
 These discussions were not confined to Ardis and Mr. 
 Surrey; Norma was continually in and out of the studio, 
 making suggestions which she hoped would elevate the 
 general tone of the subjects taken. The major also 
 showed a lively interest in the work, and assured Mr. 
 Surrey that when he should reach that branch of his sub- 
 ject he would be ready to give him all needful points in 
 regard to the great grape-growing interests of the locality, 
 and would indicate some illustrations which would tend 
 to give a peculiar value to his article. 
 
 Ardis made some original sketches from Mr. Surrey's 
 suggestions and descriptions, and he declared that if she 
 could get him some darkies, big and little, he could pose 
 them so as to serve for all sorts of street subjects. Several 
 negro boys and girls were sketched in attitudes considered 
 characteristic; but the favorite model was Uncle Shad, 
 the old ox-driver. 
 
 Uncle Shad had often sat to Ardis, sometimes as one 
 thing, and sometimes as another. She had made a very 
 good middle-aged Roman soldier of him, and there were 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 101 
 
 several sketches on the studio walls in which he figured as 
 venerable personages of the past. One of his greatest 
 merits as a model was his perfect willingness to sit still 
 for any length of time; and Ardis had often given the 
 oxen a half holiday in order that their driver might have 
 a chance of going down to posterity instead of the wood- 
 lands, where the winter's fuel was waiting to be hauled. 
 The old man always wanted to know what he was "gwine 
 to be drawed fer," but only on one occasion did he ex- 
 press a decided opinion on the subject. 
 
 " I does wish, Miss Ardis/' he said, " that I wasn't most 
 times drawed as a old heathen or a Cath'lic. Some ob 
 dese days, Miss Ardis, when you feels mighty good, it 
 would make my soul bounce wid joy ef you was to put me 
 inter a picter like a pow'ful preacher standin' up stiff an' 
 strong, on top of a big rock, wid a mighty voice 'spoundin' 
 de word to a whole field full ob bred'ren an' sisters, wid 
 Beelzebub skippin' ober de hills into de nex' county, whar 
 dar wasn't no sich pow'ful preacher as me." 
 
 This proposed subject pleased the fancy of Ardis, who, 
 when she put action into her pictures, liked it to be 
 strong, and did not at all object if it proved erratic; and 
 she resolved that some day she would paint a picture of 
 this kind, and make a present of it to Uncle Shad. But 
 this plan had not yet been carried out. 
 
 Mr. Surrey was very fond of posing Uncle Shad. He 
 made him sit as a driver of " The Lonely Ox," and in 
 other " character " attitudes. All this was very delightful 
 to Jack Surrey. In the morning he galloped into town 
 to get "points" for his article, but he did not waste any 
 precious moments and was back by the time Ardis was 
 ready to begin work in her studio. He would have been 
 better pleased if Norma had not popped in and out so 
 often, and if Ardis had not been so gravely intent upon 
 
102 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 her work. His attempts to lead the occasional tete-a-tete 
 conversations into channels in the least degree tinged with 
 sentimentality were always unsuccessful. She was willing 
 enough to talk, but she preferred practical subjects. 
 
 She was not at all the animated, sprightly young lady 
 he had met the winter before. There was, however, an 
 encouraging construction which might be placed upon 
 this present manner of Ardis. To Surrey's somewhat 
 practised judgment it looked as if she were on her guard. 
 If this were the case she suspected his ultimate object, 
 and to do this she must think of him as a wooer, and to 
 make the desired lady think of him as a wooer is a very 
 advantageous first step for a man who intends to woo. 
 The second step in which he should show himself to be a 
 wooer, Jack intended to take very soon. If opportunity did 
 not come of itself he would make it ; that was his fashion. 
 
 A remark by Norma one evening to the effect that she 
 did not object to this sketching business as much as she 
 thought she should, because Ardis was so careful to let 
 Mr. Surrey see that all this was art work, and nothing 
 else, set Ardis thinking. 
 
 She had begun to feel that she was not acting in ac- 
 cordance with her nature. She was not in the habit of 
 treating any man, with whom she chose to associate, with 
 coolness and caution. To do this was to make him an 
 exception, and it was highly desirable that Mr. Surrey 
 should not consider that anybody else considered it neces- 
 sary to make of him an exception in this way. It was 
 natural for her to be gay and free, and there was no reason 
 why Mr. Surrey should interfere with this disposition, or 
 imagine he was interfering with it. 
 
 Before she slept that night she determined that she 
 would be perfectly natural and treat Mr. Surrey just as 
 she treated other men of her acquaintance. 
 
ARDIS CLA VERDE ~N. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 ON the evening of the next day, Roger Dunworth rode 
 up to Bald Hill, and after supper Ardis took him 
 aside. 
 
 " Roger," said she they had been boy and girl to- 
 gether, and called each other by their Christian names 
 " I want you to join a party to go to the Ridgeby Caves." 
 
 " Who are to be in the party? " asked Dunworth quickly. 
 
 " It is made up principally for Mr. Surrey. He is writ- 
 ing an article about this part of the country, and ought, 
 certainly, to see the caves. Dr. Lester is going ; and he 
 has promised to see Mr. Prouter, who will join us, I know; 
 and the Dalrymples. They were here this morning and 
 I asked them. At first Mrs. Dalrymple did not agree, 
 but when she had heard something of the wonders of the 
 caves, she said she and her daughter would go. Norma 
 and I will, of course, be of the party, but I think that 
 father will not care to join us." 
 
 " Nor shall I," said Dunworth. 
 
 " Don't say that," said Ardis. " I want you to go. It 
 will be ever so much pleasanter for all of us if you are 
 with us. So, tell me at once that you will join us! " 
 
 "Ardis," said Roger, speaking very earnestly, " I shall 
 not join any party of which that man Surrey is one. I 
 tell you plainly that I do not like him, and do not wish to 
 associate with him. And, what is more, Ardis, I shall be 
 very, very sorry to know that you have gone on this ex- 
 pedition. You will be gone three days ! " 
 
 " I know that," said Ardis, " for I have twice made the 
 
104 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 trip, and the two nights in the old tavern are a great part 
 of the fun." 
 
 Roger did not immediately reply, but presently he said: 
 "Of course the only thing I object to is that Surrey is to 
 be of the party." 
 
 "And what right have you," asked Ardis, quietly, " to 
 object at all ? I simply invite you to join a party which 
 is already formed." 
 
 "Ardis," said Roger, his voice not altogether steady, so 
 earnestly did he speak, " I am sure you know why I ob- 
 ject. I object because I love you, and because it gives 
 me a pain at my heart to think that you are willing to 
 go off on this three-days' expedition which Surrey cares 
 nothing about except that it will give him no end of op- 
 portunities of being with you. He is utterly unworthy of 
 you, and yet he has come down here for no other object 
 than to try to win you." 
 
 "Roger Dunworth," said Ardis, fixing her dark eyes 
 earnestly upon him, " I want you to understand me better 
 than you do. I wish no one to speak to me of love, and 
 I forbid you to do it. If any one else attempts to do it, 
 I shall forbid him. I shall say no more to you about my 
 objects in life, or my ambitions, because you do not be- 
 lieve in them ; but I wish, for years to come, to be entirely 
 independent of all men, except my father. And that 
 wish ought to be sufficient for all who respect me, or care 
 for me. I have already explained this to you, but it 
 seems to have had no effect. I told you that I would not 
 consider what you said to me, and that you should be to 
 me exactly what you were before you said it." 
 
 "Which is an impossibility! " murmured Roger. 
 
 " Now this," continued Ardis, paying no attention to 
 the interruption, " is the utmost stretch of kindness, which, 
 under the circumstances, a woman could extend toward a 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 105 
 
 man. But you take no notice of my desires, or of my 
 good feeling, and come to me on the footing on which you 
 choose to stand, and make objections to my plans for en- 
 tertaining myself and my friends. Now I say to you, 
 Roger Dunworth, that I wish this stopped." 
 
 "It shall be stopped," said Roger. And he went 
 away. 
 
 Contrary to Dunworth's suppositions, the proposed trip 
 to the Ridgeby Caves was not altogether acceptable to 
 Mr. Surrey. He had been perfectly satisfied with the 
 way things had been going on in the studio, and was quite 
 sure that in a day or two he could there find, or make, 
 the opportunity he wished for. But this expedition might 
 interfere with his purposes. There would be a good many 
 people together, and the chances for his monopoly of 
 Ardis would be small. If he could have managed things 
 his own way he would have had the entrance to the caves 
 covered by a landslide ; but he saw that it would be un- 
 wise in him to object to a scheme proposed for the pleasure 
 of a large party, and he said nothing against it. 
 
 On the morning on which the expedition was to start, 
 when baskets and valises were being packed ; when the 
 men were putting horses to the family carriage and to 
 a light wagon, and other horses were being saddled; when 
 guests were arriving, and all the varied preparations for 
 the expedition were making, Jack Surrey sauntered off 
 by himself. His valise had been packed in five minutes, 
 and as Ardis was so extremely busy the house possessed 
 no attractions for him. He walked off toward the studio. 
 
 "Confound it! " he said to himself as he looked upon 
 the quiet old building, " I ought to be in there with her 
 now, instead of gadding off on this stupid picnic! And 
 there is our old model! He must work all day at hauling 
 wood instead of sitting at his ease having himself immor- 
 
lo6 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 talized! Hello! Uncle Shad! This is a wicked world, 
 isn't it?" 
 
 The old negro stopped on his way to the woodhouse 
 where his ox wagon was standing, touched his hat, and 
 answered : " Yes, sah, it's a pow'ful wicked worl' ; but 
 'tain't no wuss than 'twas yestidd'y, is it, sah? " 
 
 " Yes, it is," said Surrey, " at least it is worse than it 
 was two or three days ago. But that is out of your baili- 
 wick, Uncle Shad. And, by the way, how did you come 
 by such a name? You couldn't have had an ancestor 
 who was a fish, and I don't suppose you could now be 
 considered a part of the net proceeds of this farm." 
 
 " Dat 'spression's too deep fer my understanding Mister 
 Surrey," said the old man, " but it's easy enough to tell 
 you all about de name. My mudder, she sez, sez she, to 
 the preacher wot mahr'ed her, ' I's so thankful fer de 
 blessin's I's got dar I's gwine to name my fust three boy 
 babies after de chillun ob Isr'el wot was froun into de 
 fiery funniss.' An' when I was bawn she name me Shad- 
 rach, but de udder culled people made a deal ob fun ob dat 
 name, an' when Meshech come she call him Granville, 
 an' Abednego he was name Jake." 
 
 " Shadrach," said Mr. Surrey, " I am sorry you are 
 obliged to remain in the fiery furnace while your two 
 brothers skipped out, but if half a dollar will be of any 
 use in making amends for your fishy abbreviation, take 
 that. And now tell me : Is it necessary for you to haul 
 wood for the next three days? " 
 
 Uncle Shad looked up, a little surprised. " It's nes'sary 
 to wu'k; ef 'tain't one thing it's anudder. I's to haul 
 wood fer de winter, an' ef I don't haul it to-day I hauls it 
 to-morrer, an' I keeps on till I gits a good deal more'n 
 enough, an' den I stops." 
 
 "Very good," said Mr. Surrey. "I think I can find 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 107 
 
 you something to do for a few days which will be more 
 profitable to a party I know than hauling winter wood." 
 And walking quickly to the house,, he proposed to Miss 
 Claverden that Uncle Shad should go with them to the 
 caves, to make himself generally useful and to act as 
 model when needed. 
 
 " You see," said the considerate Jack, " that if we come 
 across any good ' bits' in those caves it will be a capital 
 thing to have Uncle Shad along to put into the sketch in 
 any sort of character that we may think is needed. You 
 can't depend on volunteer models." 
 
 Ardis was to be one of the riders, and in her close- 
 fitting habit and riding cap she seemed to Surrey hand- 
 somer than he had ever before seen her. " Mr. Surrey," 
 said she, leaning against one side of the open doorway, 
 her arms folded and her riding whip dangling from one 
 of her gloved hands, " you have entirely too much fore- 
 sight for this part of the country. Down here, when we 
 go off on a trip like this it never occurs to us to take with 
 us models in addition to our provisions and extra wraps. 
 We would as soon think of carrying a piano or an ency- 
 clopedia. And what is more, sir, I wish it understood 
 that I am not going on this little excursion to draw or to 
 work in any way. I am going for pure amusement, and 
 I shall leave my paper, pencils, and models at home. 
 Now don't you think that will be sensible?" 
 
 Mr. Surrey felt obliged to say that he supposed it would 
 be, and at that moment Ardis was called away by an 
 urgent summons from Norma. When she left him, she 
 smiled, " I should not have imagined that he would pro- 
 pose such a transparent scheme for dividing the party ! " 
 
 Norma's summons was a very important one. A mes- 
 sage had just arrived from Mrs. Dalrymple that in conse- 
 quence of the unexpected return of her son from a long 
 
io8 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 journey, she and her family would not be able to join the 
 expedition to the Ridgeby Caves. This was a disastrous 
 blow. Without a matron how could there be a party? 
 
 "It is just like that woman! " exclaimed Norma. "I 
 have only seen her once, but I know her through and 
 through. She agreed to go because it gave her impor- 
 tance, and now, after we have taken all the trouble to get 
 everything ready, she steps back simply for the pleasure 
 of crushing us." 
 
 " Of course/' said Ardis, " this settles it." 
 
 " Of course it does," said Norma, " and we may as well 
 go out and tell them to scatter to their homes." 
 
 Dr. Lester was now on the porch with Mr. Surrey and 
 the major; and Tom Prouter, accompanied by Mr. Crup- 
 pledean, had just ridden up. Jack Surrey was the only 
 one of the gentlemen who received the news with equanim- 
 ity. He was perfectly satisfied to substitute studio ex- 
 periences for those of a mountain expedition. Major 
 Claverden was decidedly angry, but he expressed himself 
 with moderation. 
 
 "This conduct surprises me," he said. "Did she not 
 know that her action totally subverts the purposes and 
 pleasures of a large party? And could she not have 
 brought her son with her? Did she suppose he would not 
 be made welcome as one of her family?" And unable 
 to say more without committing what he would consider 
 a breach of decorum, he retired to the library, where he 
 walked up and down in silence. 
 
 Dr. Lester was indignant that a plan proposed and de- 
 sired by Miss Ardis should be interfered with; and Mr. 
 Cruppledean, who had come prepared to enjoy a jolly 
 jaunt, was downcast to find that the opportunity was taken 
 away from him. 
 
 But Tom Prouter was rebellious. By dint of the deep- 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 109 
 
 est thought and wildest exertion he had given himself a 
 three-days' holiday. He had hired a substitute, with orders 
 to ride about the country and look at milch cows ; to see 
 that the men were at work early and late ; to overlook the 
 systematic delivery of the milk ; to dash here and there 
 and everywhere with a big cattle whip in his hand and 
 his mind full of pans, cans, ensilage, and pasture. He i 
 was not going to give up the good time he expected 
 without a struggle. 
 
 "I wouldn't stand it, Miss Claverden," he said, "if I 
 were you ! I would not let a person like that say whether 
 I should go on an excursion or not. Now let me tell you, 
 if you really think it is necessary to have an elderly party 
 along to keep us quiet, I'll provide one. I'll go fetch Miss 
 Airpenny. She is old enough to have been dug up with 
 the Pharaohs. She hasn't started on her journey yet be- 
 cause her money hasn't come from home. And this sort 
 of trip will be just the thing to keep her from grumbling. 
 She'll jump at it! May I go for her, Miss Claverden? I 
 can ride to Loch Levin in half an hour and back in the 
 same time. And giving her fifteen minutes to get ready, 
 I'll have her here in an hour and a quarter." 
 
 This proposition was discussed by the company, al- 
 though Surrey did not say much. Norma was in favor of 
 inviting Miss Airpenny; she had never seen her, and 
 greatly desired to do so. Ardis reflected a little before 
 speaking. She had proposed this expedition partly for 
 the Dalrymples. She was not greatly interested in this 
 family, but they were newcomers, had never seen the 
 caves, and her generous disposition prompted her to invite 
 them to go there. She was, however, very willing to go 
 herself, and to relieve the party from the disappointment 
 which they evidently felt. And so, after a few words with 
 her father, she consented to Mr. Prouter's plan. 
 
HO ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 " I do not expect you back in an hour and a quarter," 
 she said. " We shall have an early dinner, and as the 
 moon is nearly full, it will not matter if we arrive at Pur- 
 ley's Tavern a little late." 
 
 The words were scarcely out of her mouth when Prouter 
 was down the steps, on his horse, and off at a mad gallop. 
 Ardis had intended to send Miss Airpenny a formal invita- 
 tion, but no time had been given her. 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE early dinner was nearly ready when Cruppledean, 
 who was smoking his pipe under the trees, suddenly 
 shouted: "Hi! they are coming!" And in a moment 
 after Prouter and Miss Airpenny cantered up to the 
 house. The appearance of the lady was calculated to 
 excite attention. She was somewhere between forty and 
 sixty years of age ; wore a man's felt hat, with her fluffy 
 brown hair flying out from beneath it and flapping around 
 her ruddy, weather-beaten face, and was dressed in a red- 
 dish-brown riding habit, very long in the skirt and fas- 
 tened around her capacious form in such a way as to give 
 her the appearance of two large brown bags, She rode a 
 big horse on a hard canter, and bounced up and down in 
 a way that made observers wonder how she kept her seat. 
 Before assistance could reach her she dismounted, and 
 came forward with quick and vigorous steps. She ac- 
 cepted with evident gratification the welcome given her 
 by Major Claverden and his daughter, and gave everybody 
 present an energetic hand-shake. 
 
 " Now, really," said she, her quick blue eyes moving 
 from one member of the party to another, " I am very 
 pleased that you sent Mr. Prouter to fetch me. I want 
 to see those Ridgeby Caves, and I should have gone there 
 before, but the people told me that no woman ought to 
 ride as far as that and back by herself, though I am sure 
 it must be an odd sort of country where I can't do that." 
 
 Soon after dinner the party started off, Miss Airpenny 
 on her big horse, for when it was possible for her to walk 
 
112 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 or ride she disdained a carriage. Norma and Dr. Lester 
 had the carriage to themselves the greater part of the 
 time, although toward evening they were joined by Ardis 
 and Mr. Surrey; the latter having been tired of riding 
 some time before he changed his saddle for the carriage 
 seat. 
 
 They arrived at the tavern, half-way up the mountain 
 side, before the light of the moon was really needed to 
 show them their way, and as Purley was always expecting 
 parties of this kind, a hot and plentiful supper was soon 
 ready for them. 
 
 Ardis was in a gay and genial mood. Her healthy soul 
 and body liked this wild country, where even the houses 
 were full of the air of out-of-doors. She liked Miss Air- 
 penny too, that hearty, rough rider, who showed such an 
 energetic delight in the excursion. 
 
 When they first set out, Ardis had been quieter than 
 was her wont. Two things had weighed a little on her 
 spirits. One was Roger Dunworth's behavior. Hereto- 
 fore an excursion of this kind without Roger Dunworth 
 would have seemed impossible. He was always looked 
 upon as a leader, and if a time proposed did not suit his 
 convenience the affair was postponed. His absence, and 
 more than that, the cause of it, could not fail to be dis- 
 quieting. The other weight was a lighter one. She fan- 
 cied that Mr. Surrey would like to take advantage of this 
 expedition to establish a closer intimacy between them 
 than she had any desire for ; and, while her natural in- 
 trepidity of spirit forbade any fear that she would not be 
 able to regulate her intercourse with Mr. Surrey to suit 
 herself, she disliked the idea that any such regulation 
 would be necessary. 
 
 But the invigorating air of the mountain and the in- 
 spiriting motion of her sprightly mare had soon driven all 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. H 3 
 
 depression from her mind ; and when the evening grew a 
 little chilly at the setting of the sun and she entered the 
 carriage, she was as gay-hearted a girl as ever laughed on 
 mountain side. 
 
 The night was cool, and the party gathered around the 
 wood fire in the tavern parlor, and told stories. Dr. 
 Lester related curious facts which had come within his 
 reading or his observation. Miss Airpenny told a thrill- 
 ing tale of how she had once been nearly precipitated by 
 the pressure of an inquisitive crowd of tourists into the 
 arms of a reigning sovereign. Norma told of an old lady 
 in a gray shawl, with long finger bones coming out of the 
 ends of black mittens, who was supposed to be a Maria 
 Lumsley, who married a Cranton near the end of the last 
 century. This ancestor regularly appeared in an upper 
 unused room at Heatherley toward evening on a certain 
 day in November, but as the particular date had been 
 forgotten, Norma declared she never went into that room 
 in the month of November, and if any others of the 
 family had happened into that room on that particular 
 day they had never mentioned it. Mr. Surrey related 
 with admirable effect a humorous tale; and Ardis, at 
 Norma's request, related a little romance she had com- 
 posed some time before. It was a story of the Civil War ; 
 and its heroine was a Southern woman who had a married 
 sister in the North. The husband of this sister, at the 
 head of troops, came and ravaged the estate of the heroine, 
 who, being of a proud and haughty spirit, disdained to 
 curry favor of the enemy by revealing her identity, and 
 saw her crops destroyed and buildings burned without al- 
 lowing the officer conducting the devastation to know that 
 she was his wife's sister. 
 
 " That is the kind of woman I like ! " said Norma with 
 sparkling eyes. " That is true patriotism ! " 
 8 
 
114 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 " I do not feel so sure," said Ardis, " as when I wrote 
 the story, that she did right. I think she ought to have 
 considered her sister's feelings as well as her own." 
 
 " For my part," said Miss Airpenny, " I think she was 
 an arrant fool. If such a woman had really existed I 
 should say that she should have had a riding whip applied 
 to her back for neglecting to take care of her husband's 
 property while he was away doing his duty in the war." 
 
 Dr. Lester stood up warmly for the heroine, as he would 
 have stood up for any heroine created by Miss Ardis. 
 
 The discussion which followed was ended by Ardis, who 
 declared that Mr. Proirter and Mr. Cruppledean must 
 each tell a story without further delay. For half an hour 
 Cruppledean had been revolving in his mind a tradition 
 of an old family ghost which he thought would be a good 
 thing to tell when his turn came ; but being thus suddenly 
 called upon, the whole story, ghost and all, utterly van- 
 ished from his mind ; and he was obliged to admit that he 
 had nothing to tell. 
 
 Prouter, on the contrary, was quite ready. With an 
 air of briskness and alacrity he moved himself forward to 
 the edge of his chair, sat up very straight, put one hand 
 on each knee, and with sparkling eyes and glowing cheeks 
 began to tell an anecdote of a farmer of Fligwich who ex- 
 changed two pigs for a setting goose, and by the virtue of 
 this bargain became the possessor of a little parlor organ 
 which he gave to the dissenting chapel which he attended. 
 Just how the bargain happened to turn out in this way, 
 Mr. Prouter could not state, having forgotten some of the 
 points ; but it struck him as being extraordinarily odd, 
 and he laughed immensely as he told the story. 
 
 At the conclusion of this lively story, which truly amused 
 everybody, the party retired to their rooms. 
 
 Dr. Lester went to sleep a happy man. He had been 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 115 
 
 all day with Ardis ; and that was sufficient for him. Mr. 
 Surrey retired dissatisfied. He had been all day with 
 Ardis ; but that was not sufficient for him. 
 
 Prouter and Cruppledean had beds in the same room. 
 " Cruppledean," said the former, just before putting his 
 head on his pillow, " did you ever in your life see a girl 
 like that? Do you believe it would be possible to induce 
 her to marry a man who sold milk? " 
 
 " No." said Cruppledean, " I don't. And what is more 
 I don't believe she would marry you, no matter what you 
 sold, nor what you did do, nor what you didn't do! " 
 
 "Really?" said Prouter. 
 
 " Yes, really," was the answer. 
 
 "Cruppledean," said Prouter, "you can put out the 
 light." And he dropped his head on the pillow and pulled 
 up the bed coverings. 
 
 After an early breakfast the next morning a lively com- 
 pany, under the charge of Purley and another guide, set 
 out to explore the Ridgeby Caves. A walk of half a mile 
 brought them to the entrance of the extensive and partially 
 unexplored caverns which ran into the side and down into 
 the depths of the low mountain range to which they had 
 travelled the day before. 
 
 There was much to be seen here in the way of winding 
 passages, unfathomable ravines, and chambers large and 
 small, high-domed or low-roofed; all hung and adorned 
 with stalactites and strange and curious formations, which 
 water, dripping for long ages through porous soil, had 
 produced in fantastic profusion. They wandered for 
 hours, all the party interested, and Miss Airpenny filled 
 with enthusiastic desire to guide the guides. In a great 
 circular room, from the ceiling of which hung a massive 
 structure, which, by the aid of lights and a little imagina- 
 tion, might be made into a very good chandelier, they 
 
1 1 6 A RDIS CLA VERDEN. 
 
 ate the refreshments they had brought with them. Then 
 they set out on their return. 
 
 Jack Surrey had been in a well-satisfied mood during 
 their progress through the devious windings and openings 
 of the caves. He had explored caves before, but this one 
 possessed some novel features. The merry companion- 
 ship was exactly to Mr. Jack's liking. To be sure he 
 would have been much better pleased to do the greater 
 part of the wandering with Ardis only, but this, of course, 
 was impossible, and he was obliged to content himself 
 with a share in the general gayety in which he became a 
 leader. 
 
 But when he heard that in returning the party would 
 retrace the route by which they had traversed the caves, 
 he was dissatisfied. Going back over the same road was 
 not a thing that suited him. He urged the guides to take 
 them back some other way, but they declared no other 
 route had yet been opened. Surrey was therefore com- 
 pelled to go with the rest of the party over the same 
 ground they had travelled before ; but he lagged behind, 
 with his candle, looking into dark openings to the right or 
 left, and resolving to call the company back if he found 
 anything novel. He saw nothing, however, of any im- 
 portance ; but when they were not very far from the en- 
 trance to the caves he remembered a large opening which 
 they had passed shortly after coming in, and about which 
 he had spoken to Purley, who told him that it was too 
 full of obstructions to admit of the entrance of a party. 
 
 Jack was not easily deterred by obstructions when he 
 wanted to do anything, and he determined to take a look 
 into this opening. So he fell back, considerably behind 
 the others; and when he reached the yawning aperture, 
 which he well remembered, he quietly slipped into it. 
 There was no danger that he would lose his way when he 
 
ARDIS CLAVEKDEN. 117 
 
 came out, for he could see at a distance the bright twinkle 
 of the lantern which stood at the bottom of the steps 
 which led up to the entrance to the caves. 
 
 Holding up his candle, Surrey could see that he was in 
 a large cavern, the floor of which was tolerably smooth, 
 and where the only obstacles to his progress were the 
 great, pointed stalactites which hung down from the low 
 roof. With a light, however, it was easy to avoid these ; 
 and he went on a short distance, until he came to an open- 
 ing on the right which led into another cave, at the en- 
 trance to which lay some rough blocks of stone. Stepping 
 over these, he entered the second cave ; and, raising his 
 candle, looked about him. He was in a rocky chamber 
 very like the other except that the roof was higher and 
 there did not seem to be so many stalactites. Some of 
 these, however, were very long, and hung low. He was 
 about to step forward to discover, if possible, the extent 
 of this cavern, when, suddenly, something dark appeared 
 at his shoulder, and instantly his light was blown out. 
 
 With an exclamation Surrey turned quickly ; but all was 
 black about him; such wall-like darkness he had never 
 imagined. But he had little time to think of this, for, in 
 the next instant, he received a powerful blow on the side 
 of his neck, almost instantly followed by another in the 
 back of his head. With a quick turn Surrey stretched out 
 his arms, and grappled something. At the first touch of 
 this something Surrey fancied that he had hold of a huge 
 reptile, for it was cold and smooth and damp ; but another 
 blow delivered on his breast and his instant seizure of the 
 arm which gave it, assured him that he had a man to deal 
 with. 
 
 Surrey was strong, brave, and a first-rate boxer. Sur- 
 prise had given way to anger, and with a muttered curse 
 he sent a heavy right-hand blow at the man he held. 
 
Il8 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 There was no time for expostulation or even outcry, for 
 the man now closed with him and endeavored to throw 
 him to the ground. This, with a tough fellow like Surrey, 
 was no easy matter, and the ensuing struggle became a 
 violent one ; in the midst of which Surrey remembered 
 that his greatest danger might result from striking one of 
 the stalactites which hung from the roof. He, therefore, 
 endeavored to throw the man, in order that the fight might 
 be continued on the ground, but his assailant was wiry and 
 agile, and evidently wore no shoes for his feet made no 
 sound on the ground and this gave him an advantage 
 over Surrey on the wet and slippery floor. 
 
 The next instant proved that Surrey's fears were well 
 founded, for the two struck together against a great stalac- 
 tite with such force that they broke it off, and it fell with 
 a thud that shook the ground. " Now down we must go! " 
 thought Surrey for he knew that if his head had struck 
 that stalactite it would have been all over with him and 
 by a tremendous effort he lifted his antagonist a few 
 inches, giving him at the same time a sudden twist. The 
 man lost his footing but retained his vigorous clutch on 
 Surrey, and the two fell heavily to the ground. 
 
 Surrey now had but one thought, and that was to kill 
 the man, or devil, or whatever it was, who had attacked 
 him in this atrocious and dastardly way. But his assailant 
 was difficult to kill. Blow after blow Jack poured in upon 
 him as they struggled on the floor, but blow after blow he 
 received from the mute and furious being with whom he 
 strove. Once he thought he heard voices, but he had no 
 breath with which to call out. All his powers were re- 
 quired to keep his savage enemy from getting the better 
 of him. 
 
 They rolled upon the floor, sometimes one uppermost, 
 sometimes the other, but Surrey never tried to rise, for 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. U 9 
 
 fear of the stalactites. On the wet and slime of the floor 
 he knew that he must finish the fight. And there he fin- 
 ished it. By a sudden and powerful effort he put himself 
 on his knees with the man beneath him, and from this 
 advantageous position he dealt several quick and heavy 
 blows upon the body of his foe. At this the man released 
 his hold upon him, and by a quick roll jerked himself loose 
 from Surrey's grasp, and slipped away, like a snake, into 
 the blackness. 
 
 Surrey remained on his knees, panting for breath. He 
 had not killed the villain. Would he attack him again? 
 He remained motionless and listened, but not so much as 
 the pat of a bare foot upon the floor could he hear. He 
 knew not how long he had retained this position, when he 
 felt that he was getting weak and that he must lose no 
 time in making his way out of this place. 
 
 Surrey had been in serious plights before this day, and 
 was accustomed to quick thinking. He remembered that 
 he had made but few steps into this second chamber when 
 he had stopped to look about him. In the struggle which 
 had followed the extinguishment of the light it was not 
 probable that he had moved very far from the place where 
 he had stopped. His greatest difficulty, therefore, would 
 be to discover which way he must go in order to reach 
 the opening between the second cave and the first. His 
 greatest danger was that his assailant, having recovered a 
 little breath and vigor, might attack him again ; and this 
 time, perhaps, with a weapon. The striking of a match 
 and the search for his candle would betray his position to 
 the other; but this he determined to risk. The rascal 
 was probably as badly used up as he was, and no matter 
 what might happen, he must try to get out of this place. 
 
 He felt for his match-box, but found that part of the 
 skirt of his coat containing the pocket with the matches 
 
120 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 in it had been torn off in the combat. He felt around 
 him in every direction, but could not discover it. There 
 was nothing now to be done but to find the opening with- 
 out a light. He must grope for a few yards in a straight 
 line from the spot where he knelt, and then endeavor to 
 move sidewise without increasing his distance from the 
 central point from which he started. If he could do this, 
 he thought he must reach the opening of the chamber. 
 Should he encounter his enemy he must do his best. 
 There was no use in thinking any more about that con- 
 tingency. 
 
 On his hands and knees Surrey crept forward for about 
 twenty feet ; then he put up his hand to feel before him, 
 but touched nothing. Moving sidewise, and trying not 
 to go either backward or forward, he was touched on the 
 shoulder by a sharp point, and he suddenly shrank back 
 as from the knife of a foe, but putting out his hand he 
 found that this was a stalactite which reached down to 
 within a short distance of the floor. Passing this he soon 
 found himself among other stalactites, close together, and 
 cold and hard, like great javelins ready to drop upon him 
 in the blackness. He knew that he had passed through 
 no such obstructions as these, and so, backing a little, he 
 continued to move in a sidelong direction. 
 
 Several times he crept forward and stretched out his 
 arm, but touched nothing. Then he receded a little, and 
 endeavored to keep on in his circular course. Presently, 
 in putting out his hand, he touched what seemed to be 
 an upright rock. Rising cautiously to his feet, with his 
 hand over his head to protect himself from down-reaching 
 points, he found that he was in front of a rough wall. 
 Moving slowly along this, with his hands upon its surface, 
 he soon came to a break in it. Reaching downward he 
 felt a line of low rocks a foot or two in height, and his 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. I2i 
 
 heart leaped with joy. This he believed was a slight wall 
 over which he had stepped when entering this second 
 chamber. 
 
 Clambering over this wall, Surrey felt sure he was in 
 the cave he had first entered when he left the main pas- 
 sage. He remembered that he had turned to his right in 
 order to go into the second chamber, and he, therefore, 
 began immediately to make his way toward the left. The 
 stalactites in this cave hung lower than in the second one, 
 and on this account he was afraid to walk upright, and 
 proceeded on his hands and knees. Frequently his course 
 was impeded by strong bars coming down from the roof 
 or up from the floor, but he guarded his head as well as 
 he could, and moved slowly. Sometimes the stalactites 
 hung so close together that he knew he must be out of 
 the path he had taken when he passed through the cave 
 with his light. He would then slightly alter his course. 
 
 He groped on, he knew not how long nor how far, until 
 at last, meeting with no more stalactites, he was seized 
 by a sudden fear that perhaps he had got into a place 
 where he had never been before ; and, for the first time, 
 a chill of terror passed through him. As long as he could 
 imagine the place where he was from having been in it, 
 his courage stood by him, but this horrible emptiness of 
 blackness bewildered him, and he was afraid. He raised 
 his head, and called out at the top of his voice. Up to 
 this time he had made no outcry. His reason had told 
 him that if his party were near enough to hear him he 
 would hear them, and throughout his whole progress 
 through the darkness he had endeavored to move so 
 quietly that no sound made by him should enable his as- 
 sailant to follow him. 
 
 Now he forgot everything and called out, but his voice 
 sounded muffled and weak. 
 
122 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 What help could he expect from a call like that? 
 Nervously trembling, and unwilling to move an inch for- 
 ward, he turned completely about, and there, before his 
 eyes but far away, he saw a twinkle of light. 
 
 He felt the glad blood rushing to his face. Now he 
 knew where he was. He had actually made his way into 
 the main passage, but had been moving in the wrong di- 
 rection. He rose to his feet, and with arms stretched 
 before him, and his eyes fixed upon the light, he stepped 
 forward as rapidly as possible. That twinkling lantern in 
 the distance simply indicated its own position ; it shed 
 no light upon his path. Sometimes he stumbled against 
 the wall on one side, and sometimes he struck it on the 
 other; now the footway was smooth; and then he found 
 it rough and jagged. But with his eyes on the light he 
 kept straight on. 
 
 He began to be very tired, and again he called out, but 
 his voice seemed to penetrate only a yard or two. He 
 walked on, though much slower than at first, until he 
 reached the lantern and the bottom of the steep steps that 
 led up to the little house built over the entrance to the 
 caves. For a minute or two he sat upon the bottom step 
 to rest, and then, on his hands and feet, he clambered up. 
 He reached the top of the stairway, and staggered to the 
 open door of the house. The day was cool for the season 
 and the afternoon was well advanced, but coming from 
 the low temperature of the caves, it seemed to Surrey as 
 if he had stepped into the hot air of a furnace, and he 
 gasped for breath. 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 123 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 OCARCELY had he made a step from the door of the 
 O little house, scarcely had he taken a breath of the 
 outer air which seemed to him so suffocating, when Jack 
 Surrey heard sudden cries from female voices, and turning, 
 he saw Ardis and Norma sitting under the shade of a tree. 
 Instantly the two girls arose and ran toward him. 
 
 "Mr. Surrey !" exclaimed Ardis, "what is the matter 
 with you? Where have you been? " 
 
 Surrey presented good cause for amazement. His face 
 was pallid and smeared with dirt; his clothes were torn 
 and covered with dingy white slime from the floor of the 
 cave; his form was trembling as he stood; and, worse 
 than all, from his left arm, from which the coat sleeve was 
 nearly torn away, blood came dripping down, drop by 
 drop, upon the ground. 
 
 Norma shrieked. " He is bleeding! " she cried. 
 
 Surrey smiled a weak, faint smile. " I have had a rough 
 time," he said. " Tell you about it after awhile. Didn't 
 know I was cut. I must sit down." 
 
 " He is faint ! " said Ardis. " Norma, is there any 
 water?" 
 
 Norma dashed into the little house. There was a 
 pitcher on a table, but it was empty. She seized it and 
 came running out. She stopped for a moment, looking 
 about her. " There must be water down the hill," she 
 said. " I will get some ; " and away she ran. 
 
 Surrey sat down at the foot of a tree, his back against 
 the trunk. Ardis took out her handkerchief, and ap- 
 
124 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 preached him. Her face was full of pity, but she asked 
 no questions. 
 
 " Let me tie up the cut/' she said. " It must not be 
 allowed to bleed in that way." 
 
 Surrey looked at his arm. The lower part of the shirt 
 sleeve had been torn away, and a few inches above his 
 wrist there was a jagged wound which had no doubt been 
 cut by a sharp stone in the course of the mad struggle in 
 the cave. " I wondered why I felt so weak," he said. 
 " It wasn't natural. Please tie it up." 
 
 Ardis felt a sort of dread coming over her. Mr. Surrey 
 looked so pale and so wonderfully changed from the 
 robust man who had gone into the caves, that she thought 
 he must have been bleeding for a long time, and might 
 die before her eyes. But this feeling did not cause her 
 to hesitate an instant. Kneeling down beside him, she 
 prepared to put her handkerchief around his arm. 
 
 " Twist it up," said Surrey, " and tie it below the cut. 
 It's a vein." 
 
 Ardis did as she was directed. By Surrey's wish she 
 pulled it tight with all her force, and tied it in a hard knot. 
 
 " Where are all the people? " asked Surrey. His voice 
 was low, and he spoke in short sentences, but his desire 
 to talk had not left him. 
 
 " They have gone to look for you," said Ardis. " Every- 
 body went but Norma and me. Mr. Purley thought you 
 had taken a path a long way back which looks very much 
 like the proper passage, but which leads to some deep 
 place or other. He did not want any woman to go, but 
 Miss Airpenny would not be turned back. She said you 
 might need a nurse. I wish she were here ! I really be- 
 lieve that place is bleeding as badly as ever! " 
 
 Surrey did not wish Miss Airpenny were there, but he 
 forbore from saying so. He turned his eyes from Ardis 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 125 
 
 to his arm. " That is so," he said. " The ligature does 
 not press the vein. If you would put your thumb on it I 
 think you might stop the bleeding until some one comes." 
 
 Ardis did not think that perhaps he had strength 
 enough to put his own thumb on the vein, but pulling 
 down the useless handkerchief she clasped his arm with 
 her right hand, and placed her thumb here and there until 
 she put it over the vein and saw that the pressure stopped 
 the flow of blood. 
 
 Kneeling thus by the half-prostrate man, and holding 
 his wrist in her hand, she looked from side to side, and 
 listened. Oh, that somebody would come ! At any mo- 
 ment he might swoon, or even die before her! 
 
 Surrey felt very much exhausted, but his position was a 
 restful one to his body and a most animating one to his 
 mind. Here was the beautiful woman he loved, kneeling 
 by his side, checking the flow of his life blood with her 
 soft hand, and her lovely eyes filled with pity and anxiety 
 for him. And, better than all, she was here alone with 
 him. 
 
 It would have been difficult to find any man, except 
 Surrey, who would have thought this a fitting moment in 
 which to declare his affection for the woman who was 
 thus ministering to him in his sad condition. Few men 
 would have considered themselves able in such a case to 
 speak their minds ; and fewer still would have dared to 
 presume upon the opportunity. But Surrey generally felt 
 himself able to do what he wanted to do; and as for dar- 
 ing, that was a part of his nature. This was one of the 
 chances to speak with Ardis which he had been hoping 
 for ; and, indeed, better than anything he had hoped for, 
 for it was plain enough that her thoughts were fixed 
 earnestly on him. 
 
 "Ardis," said he, " for a long time I have worshipped 
 
126 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 you as an angel, and it seems so fitting that it should be 
 you who are with me now. You are my angel ! Dear love, 
 will you not be always that? Will you not be my wife? }> 
 
 The blood rushed into the face of Ardis. Anger, as- 
 tonishment, contempt, and even horror, struggled within 
 her. She made a motion as if to spring to her feet, and 
 then suddenly remembered that if she released her hold 
 on that man's wrist his remaining blood might ebb from 
 him and leave him dead before her! It was so absolutely 
 necessary to stop the bleeding that even now she would 
 not remove her hand. To upbraid this pallid sufferer, 
 perhaps upon the verge of death, was impossible! To 
 say anything was impossible ! Oh, that some one would 
 come ! that some one would come ! Her face, her whole 
 body, seemed on fire. 
 
 Her silence emboldened Surrey. " Will you not speak 
 to me, my love?" he said. And slowly raising his right 
 hand he extended it toward her. She was about to tell 
 him that if he touched her she would drop his arm and 
 let him bleed, when she heard the sound of horse's hoofs 
 upon the stony road near by; and in a moment around a 
 clump of bushes, not a hundred feet away, there came a 
 mounted man. With joy in her eyes Ardis recognized 
 Roger Dunworth. 
 
 The horse stopped with a sudden jerk. The eyes of 
 Dunworth stood wide and wild in his face, over which 
 fell a sudden mask of anguish and dismay. He sat as 
 if he had been struck stiff by an electric shock. 
 
 During the night after he had parted with Ardis, and 
 all through the next day and the next night, Roger had 
 thought and rethought, and had tortured his brain with 
 all manner of things. He was most earnestly in love, and 
 his earnestness had become wild distraction, and his dis- 
 traction fierce jealousy as he thought of his rival, that 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 127 
 
 comparative stranger, spending these three days of excur- 
 sion with Ardis. It mattered not to him how many others 
 were in the party, or who they were ; it maddened him to 
 think of Ardis riding with this man, walking with him, 
 being with him through these three days. It was cruel in 
 her, knowing what she did, to do this thing; to scorn his 
 feelings, and to put this misery on him. 
 
 And then there had come a revulsion of feeling. He 
 had been cruel. He should have gone with her. She 
 wanted him to go. She had asked him. His presence 
 would have protected her from the attentions of this man. 
 He had behaved basely in treating her invitation as he 
 had treated it. But back to him came the thought that 
 his feelings had been entirely disregarded. She had gone 
 off with this man, not caring whether or not her going 
 hurt to the death the friend of her youth, her declared 
 lover! And this, too, when there had been an opportunity 
 to give up the expedition ; for he had heard of the with- 
 drawal of the Dalrymple family. 
 
 On this morning, however, his feelings regarding him- 
 self, regarding Ardis, and regarding Surrey, had all united 
 to make it impossible for him to remain any longer at 
 home while these others had gone wandering away to- 
 gether. If she wanted his company at the Ridgeby Caves, 
 he must go ; if she did not want him he must go. And 
 he saddled his horse and went. 
 
 At the sight of Ardis and Surrey alone together, sitting 
 close to each other under the shade of a tree, she with 
 her face flushed by emotion and holding him by the hand, 
 Roger stopped, and to him the whole world stopped. He 
 did not notice Surrey's pallor, nor his disordered condi- 
 tion. He only knew that it was he, and that Ardis was 
 kneeling close to him with flushed face and holding his 
 hand. 
 
128 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 To a soul so stirred and torn, this blow was too heavy. 
 His head sank upon his breast, and with a groan that was 
 almost like a cry, he whirled his horse around and dashed 
 away. 
 
 The delight which had sprung up in Ardis' heart when 
 she first perceived Roger, vanished when she fairly looked 
 upon his face. Instantly she knew all that he thought, 
 and that knowledge driving from her mind everything else, 
 she dropped Surrey's wrist and rose to her feet, her lips 
 parted to speak. But it was too late. All that Roger 
 had seen, all that he had felt had been seen and felt in a 
 moment. The next moment he was gone! 
 
 Ardis made some quick steps forward, as pale now as 
 the man who leaned against the tree. She looked down 
 the road, but there was nothing to be seen, although she 
 could still hear the clatter of hoofs upon the stones. 
 
 Surrey had seen all, and the corners of his mouth fell 
 grimly. In the hand which had been extended toward 
 Ardis he took his wounded wrist, and pressed upon the 
 vein. Whatever had happened or might happen, it would 
 not do for him to lose any more of his strength. 
 
 There was a quick crushing through underbrush and 
 Norma, panting, red-faced, and bearing a pitcher of water, 
 came hurrying up. The little stream in the ravine had 
 been dry and she had pushed through bushes and briers 
 to a spring she knew of. The way by the course she took 
 was difficult, and every hindrance was increased by her 
 nervous fear that the man would swoon or die before she 
 got back. 
 
 Ardis had not yet found the heart nor Norma the breath 
 to speak to each other, and the latter was approaching 
 Surrey with the water although what to do with it she 
 did not know when voices, clear and loud, were heard; 
 and Purley, followed by Miss Airpenny and Dr. Lester, 
 
ARDIS CLAVEKDEN. 129 
 
 came running from the little house. Not finding any 
 trace of Surrey along the passage they had supposed he 
 had taken, one of the guides, with Prouter and Crupple- 
 dean, had gone back along the main route, while Purley 
 and the two others had hurried on toward the entrance to 
 explore some of the chambers they had passed. In one 
 of these they found part of Surrey's coat, his candle 
 trampled to pieces, and blood spots on the floor. By 
 these spots they traced him to the entrance. 
 
 The newcomers made rapid and excited inquiries as to 
 what had happened, but Surrey shook his head and de- 
 clined to talk on the subject until he felt better. When 
 she found he was wounded, Miss Airpenny was instantly 
 down on her knees beside him. 
 
 " Doctor," she said, " you must attend to this wound 
 instantly!" 
 
 The doctor stepped forward. " I must beg to be ex- 
 cused," he said. "I never practice either medicine or 
 surgery. I will do whatever I can for this gentleman, but 
 I do not attend to wounds." 
 
 A sharp inquiry as to why he allowed himself to be 
 called doctor was on Miss Airpenny's lips, but there was 
 no time to waste in remarks of this sort, and she said : 
 " Has anybody a fish-hook about him? " 
 
 Dr. Lester felt in his waistcoat pocket. He had all 
 sorts of things about him, and soon produced a small fish- 
 hook. " I have also a bit of adhesive plaster," he said, 
 " and a pair of scissors and a piece of thread." 
 
 " Give them to me," said Miss Airpenny. Directing 
 Surrey to take his thumb from his wrist, Miss Airpenny 
 discovered by the flow of blood the exact position of the 
 broken vein, and with the point of the fish-hook she gently 
 drew it out, and while Purley held it she deftly tied it up 
 with a silk thread. Then she released it, closed up the 
 9 
 
130 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 wound, and placed several strips of adhesive plaster across 
 it to keep the edges together. After which she made a 
 ligature of a twisted handkerchief which she passed 
 around the arm below the cut and tied loosely. A com- 
 press made of a little wad from another handkerchief was 
 placed over the vein, and with a short stick the handker- 
 chief was twisted until the compress was held so firmly on 
 the vein that there was no danger of undue pressure on 
 the silken ligature .during the removal of the patient. 
 With the remaining handkerchiefs of the party the stick 
 was secured in position and a sling was made for the arm. 
 
 "Now then," said Miss Airpenny, "has anybody any 
 whiskey?" 
 
 Purley had some ; and when a small dose was adminis- 
 tered, Miss Airpenny declared that the man was ready to 
 be moved if there was any way of moving him except on 
 his own legs. 
 
 Surrey, who had had a good rest, and who already felt 
 invigorated by the whiskey, said that he could walk to the 
 tavern if he had a little help ; and having been raised to 
 his feet, Dr. Lester and Purley, both strong men, took 
 hold of him, one under each arm, and gave him such sup- 
 port that his own legs had a very easy time of it during 
 the slow walk to the tavern. Miss Airpenny walked 
 sometimes before, sometimes behind this group, grati- 
 fied to see that her patient bore the little journey very 
 well. 
 
 During this scene Ardis and Norma had stood together, 
 but apart from the others. In the heart of Ardis there 
 was a dim feeling of thankfulness that Norma had been 
 with her when the people came from the cave, but it was 
 so mixed up with other feelings that she scarcely recog- 
 nized it. 
 
 " You must have been dreadfully frightened," said 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 131 
 
 Norma, " for you are almost as pale as Mr. Surrey ! I am 
 very sure that if a man is on the point of fainting away or 
 anything like that, I should rather go off and do something 
 than stay with him." 
 
 "Do I look pale?" said Ardk. "I have been 
 
 " Nearly scared out of your wits," said Norma, " for fear 
 the man should expire before your very eyes ! I under- 
 stand that feeling perfectly, and I do not wonder that your 
 nerves gave way. I was dreadfully upset myself, rushing 
 about after water and being afraid something would hap- 
 pen before I could get back ! And do you know, Ardis, 
 that just now, when I went to that house to put down the 
 pitcher, I saw a pail of water under a table ! If I had 
 seen that " 
 
 "O Norma! Norma!" said Ardis, her words coming 
 from her with an earnestness that astonished her com- 
 panion, "if you had but seen it! if you had but seen it! " 
 
 The other guide, with the two young Englishmen, now 
 came running from the entrance to the caves; and when 
 they had been told that Mr. Surrey had met with an acci- 
 dent and was on his way to the tavern, the five set off 
 down the mountain. 
 
 That evening, after supper, Surrey felt strong enough 
 to tell the story of his mishap in the cave, and great con- 
 sternation was occasioned. Such a thing had never been 
 heard of! That a miscreant who would make such a 
 felonious attack as this should be found in the Ridgeby 
 Caves, or indeed in any part of the surrounding country, 
 was almost incredible! It seemed as if Mr. Surrey must 
 have been attacked by a demon of the earth, for Purley 
 was confident that no human being could get either into 
 or out of the caves without his knowing it. The door 
 of the stairway leading down into the caves was always 
 kept locked. 
 
132 AND IS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 When he had opened it that morning the lock was in 
 perfect order, and when the party started on their tour of 
 the caves he had locked it behind them. But if an in- 
 truder was in there that person must be in there yet, for 
 the door had been locked that afternoon by the guide 
 who left last. 
 
 Purley was much disturbed at this occurrence, not only 
 on Mr. Surrey's account, but on his own ; for it would be 
 very detrimental to his business as tavern-keeper and 
 guide if intending visitors to the Ridgeby Caves should 
 have reason to fear that they might be attacked either by 
 men or demons while in the bowels of the earth. He 
 promised that early the next day he would collect a party 
 of armed men and explore every part of the caves, and if 
 any man was concealed there, he would be found. 
 
 The conversation during the evening turned entirely 
 upon the assault; but no one was able to offer any 
 reasonable suggestion in regard to it. It might have been 
 that the man intended to rob Mr. Surrey, but was pre- 
 vented by his vigorous resistance ; but as no person likely 
 to make such an attack was known to exist on the surface 
 of the county, no reason could be adduced why he should 
 exist beneath its surface. 
 
 It was about nine o'clock when the door of the tavern 
 parlor opened, and a young man, a stranger to all present, 
 entered. He stopped at the door, bowed to the company, 
 and gazed about him. Every one stopped talking and 
 looked at him ; and it flashed into the mind of Norma 
 that perhaps this was the miscreant of the caves, who was 
 about to select another victim. But this notion was a very 
 transient one, for it was impossible to look upon this young 
 man as one addicted to violent deeds. He was of medium 
 height, rather slender; he wore a neatly-fitting suit of 
 dark gray; his collar was turned down very low, and a 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 133 
 
 black silk handkerchief was knotted in a large bow at his 
 throat. His handsome face showed no sign of beard or 
 moustache. His large eyes moved with an expression of 
 placid inquiry from one person to another, and his long 
 hair was brushed behind his ears. 
 
 He stood in a graceful attitude of indecision for some 
 moments, when, suddenly, a gleam came into his eyes and 
 he changed his position to one of successful accomplish- 
 ment. " Ah ! " he said he was looking at Ardis as he 
 spoke " I have made no mistake. You must pardon me, 
 Miss Claverden, for intruding upon you and your com- 
 pany, but my excuse shall be quickly forthcoming. My 
 name is Dalrymple, Egbert Dalrymple. When I reached 
 my father's house a day or two ago, I was informed that 
 my family had been invited to join your little excursion 
 to the Ridgeby Caves. Notwithstanding that they had 
 declined, I determined, for my part, that I would not 
 forego the very great pleasure of joining your party; for 
 I had no doubt that I should have been included in the 
 invitation had I been at home ! " 
 
 " Most certainly, sir," said Ardis, " I am sorry you are 
 too late, for we have returned from the caves. But will 
 you not walk in and take a seat? " 
 
 " Thanks," said he. And laying his soft hat upon a 
 table, he gracefully brought forward a chair, and placed it 
 as close to Ardis as the positions of Norma and Dr. Lester 
 would permit. 
 
 Miss Airpenney fixed upon the newcomer a steady gaze, 
 and Surrey, who was lying on a sofa in the back part of 
 the room, never took his eyes from him. If any members 
 of the party thought of addressing the newcomer he gave 
 them no opportunity, but went on speaking with an air of 
 kindly graciousness which was intended to put every one 
 at ease. 
 
134 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 " So ! " he said, as he seated himself, " I am aware that 
 I am too late, but the pleasure of accompanying you and 
 your party on your return will amply compensate me for 
 the difficulties I have encountered. Difficulties indeed 
 they were! I was obliged to come in a buggy with a 
 negro driver, for I am not acquainted with the roads; 
 and rougher roads I am sure were never known in Chris- 
 tendom. In one place the little river had chosen to flow 
 along the highway, and had left its bed of rounded 
 boulders for the use of passing vehicles. Dreadfully jolt- 
 ing, I assure you, Miss Claverden! And this afternoon 
 as we were going up the steep road a man came galloping 
 down as if all the fiends of earth and air were after him. 
 If it had not been for his horse's eyes for I am sure he 
 did not use his own he must have collided with us. Do 
 people hereabouts generally ride in that fashion, Miss 
 Claverden?" 
 
 " Not generally," said Ardis. And she fixed her eyes 
 upon the fire on which a colored boy had placed an arm- 
 ful of dried sticks. 
 
 The spirit of hospitality now moved Dr. Lester to 
 speak. " Have you had your supper, sir ? " he said. 
 
 Mr. Dalrymple turned his eyes toward him for a mo- 
 ment. " Not yet, thanks, " he said. " But I feel in no 
 present need of refreshment. Later I will speak to the 
 people of the inn." 
 
 " If you make it much later," thought Norma, " the 
 kitchen fire will be out and the servants in bed." But 
 she said nothing ; and the young man went on with his 
 monologue, describing the further difficulties of the road 
 as if every one present were totally ignorant of them. 
 
 This was the young man for whose sake Mrs. Dalrym- 
 ple had withdrawn from the excursion party, not wishing 
 to expose her only son to the blandishments of that for- 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 135 
 
 ward young woman, Miss Ardis Claverden. But the young 
 man, having heard from his father and his sister of the 
 remarkable personal attractions of Miss Claverden, and 
 disapproving entirely of his mother's action, and probably 
 suspecting her reason, he had taken matters into his own 
 hand, and had set off by himself. Had he earlier com- 
 prehended the state of affairs he would have reached the 
 caves as soon as the others. 
 
 The arrival of this young man was a positive relief to 
 Ardis. She had taken but little part in the general con- 
 versation, her mind being so much occupied with what 
 had happened to her that she could not bring her thoughts 
 to bear upon what had happened to Mr. Surrey. With 
 Egbert Dalrymple addressing the company, her abstracted 
 manner was not noticeable, for the attention of every one 
 was given to the newcomer. 
 
 A negro boy now came in with a tray on which was 
 some supper for the gentleman who had come late. When 
 the tray was presented to him, Mr. Dalrymple turned 
 severely on the boy. 
 
 "Take it away! 1 ' he said. "When I need anything I 
 will call for it." And then, as if in apology, he added, 
 looking toward Ardis : " Rural simplicity frequently de- 
 serves to be termed clownish stupidity! " 
 
 Miss Airpenny had now sat quiet as long as it was pos- 
 sible for her; and, suddenly rising to her feet, she said: 
 " You would better eat your food when you can get it, 
 young man, and if it is the presence of the ladies that 
 hinders you, you needn't stop for that, for we are going to 
 bed." 
 
 "So?" cried Mr. Dalrymple, springing to his feet. 
 " The evening has scarce begun." 
 
 " It is ended for us," said Miss Airpenny. And Ardis 
 and Norma being very willing to go, the three ladies bade 
 
136 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 the company " Good night ; " Miss Airpenny stopping by 
 Surrey's couch to inquire into her patient's condition, and 
 to impress upon him that if his wound needed attention 
 in the night not to hesitate to call upon her. 
 
 Mr. Dalrymple stood moodily for a few moments with- 
 out regarding the other gentlemen who were talking to- 
 gether, and then with an air of brusque indifference ate 
 the supper which had been left on a table. When he had 
 finished he found that the gentlemen had lighted their 
 pipes, and even the recumbent Surrey was puffing a 
 cigarette. 
 
 "Will you smoke, sir?" asked Dr. Lester. "I have 
 another pipe." 
 
 Egbert Darlymple walked to the end of the mantel- 
 piece, and leaning against it, folded his arms and regarded 
 the speaker. " Smoke ! " said he, " what for? " 
 
 The idea of any person asking a question like this struck 
 Prouter and Cruppledean as being so ludicrous that they 
 burst out laughing ; and even the polite Dr. Lester could 
 not restrain a smile. The countenance of Surrey, how- 
 ever, did not move. He still regarded this young man 
 with severe attention. 
 
 With an idea of compassionate scorn Mr. Dalrymple 
 looked at the ceiling ; then, his arms still folded and his 
 eyes cast on the floor, he walked with deliberate steps 
 from the room. 
 
 Tom Prouter threw himself back in his chair, slapped 
 his knees, and danced his feet. "O the ass! the ass! " 
 he cried, " the head ass of the world ! " And he and 
 Cruppledean laughed so much that their pipes went out. 
 
 Surrey did not laugh. He had noticed how this remark- 
 ably handsome young man had kept his eyes fixed upon 
 Ardis and had addressed no one but her. 
 
 Egbert Dalrymplp walked out on the little porch of the 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 137 
 
 inn and seated himself on the railing, one leg thrown 
 carelessly up before him and his back gracefully inclined 
 against a post. Raising his eyes toward the moon which 
 now had risen high among the floating, white clouds, he 
 soliloquized : 
 
 "Enrapturing!" he said in a gentle whisper. "Far 
 more enrapturing than I could have dreamed! What 
 Cecilia told me was not half! Hear me, pretty moon! I 
 give myself to her! As you fill with tender light the 
 downy edges of those white clouds, so shall she illumine 
 my every thought, my every emotion, my every impulse. 
 As the waters follow you, so follow I her. I raise myself 
 up toward her. I reach out to her. What happens I 
 care not. The fair world may be flooded ; men may die ; 
 women may weep ; still reach I up to her. What matters 
 it if I leave bare shores that would have smiled to me ; if 
 fame, if fortune, if high aims, are all forgotten, left dry 
 and arid, while I lift myself to her? And if I lift myself 
 in fervid ardor the night will pass, the dawn will come, 
 and she will slowly sink, sink, sink toward f ' 
 
 At this moment he heard a little shuffle as of feet be- 
 side him, and turning quickly his moon-irradiated face, he 
 saw a small colored boy with sleepy upturned visage. 
 
 " Mister," said the boy, " they's all done gone to bed 
 but you, an' he says when you comes in you mus' put out 
 dat ker'sene lamp on de table." 
 
 Egbert Dalrymple let himself down on the floor of the 
 porch with a sudden shock. " Damn the kerosene lamp! " 
 he said, as he marched into the house. 
 
 Before sunrise the next day Purley, with several armed 
 companions, began the work of thoroughly scouring the 
 caves. It was many hours before they came out, but 
 when he again breathed the outer air Purley had made up 
 his mind. He believed that Mr. Surrey had had a fight 
 
138 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 with a gigantic stalactite; he had run against the thing ) 
 and supposed it had struck him, had turned upon it, had 
 dropped his candle, and seizing it with desperate fury had 
 broken it off, and the stone and the man had rolled to- 
 gether on the floor. That Mr. Surrey had described his 
 assailant as cold and slippery was a strong proof in favor 
 of this supposition. And in accounting for the mental 
 condition which would allow a man to fight a stalactite 
 Purley found no difficulty ; any person of mature age who 
 would deliberately leave his party in those caves and go 
 wandering about by himself at the risk of dropping down 
 into some bottomless pit, was crack-brained enough to 
 imagine anything ! If this affair should come to be gen- 
 erally known Purley determined that his version of the 
 matter should also be known, and he did not doubt that 
 reasonable people would consider his version the true one. 
 
 That morning, without waiting for Purley's report, the 
 Bald Hill party returned home. Mr. Surrey felt much 
 stronger, and he and Norma had the carriage all to them- 
 selves, Miss Airpenny riding by its side whenever the 
 width of the road allowed. It was not a very jolly party, 
 but there was one happy heart in it. That was the heart 
 of Dr. Lester, for during the whole journey Ardis rode by 
 his side. 
 
 Egbert Dalrymple would have kept close to Miss Claver- 
 den, had it been possible to do so in a buggy with a negro 
 man driving. As it was, he was obliged to keep in the 
 rear of the little procession and a good deal in the rear, 
 too, when the road was dusty. But ever he kept his eyes 
 upon that fair one, whom like the tide, he followed. Prouter 
 and Cruppledean had ridden on an hour or two before, 
 the former being anxious to know how his milk route had 
 prospered in his absence. Thus young Dalrymple had 
 been prevented from making an intended proposition to 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 139 
 
 one of them to change places with him, so that with a 
 steed beneath him he might ride by the side of Ardis. 
 
 Toward noon the party stopped near a spring which 
 ran from the rocks not far from the roadside, and Dr. 
 Lester having dismounted and gone to fill a drinking cup 
 with water, Egbert Dalrymple sprang to the ground and 
 made his way with sprightly step to Ardis. 
 
 " Do you not think, Miss Claverden," he said, " that 
 your uncle would be glad to lend me his horse for an hour 
 or two and take my seat in the buggy? I doubt not it 
 would rest him." 
 
 " My uncle ! " exclaimed Ardis. " Oh, you mean Dr. 
 Lester! " And then, although she was not in a laughing 
 mood, she laughed so heartily that Surrey, with whom 
 Miss Airpenny was talking, looked out of the carriage 
 window. " The doctor is not my uncle,' 7 she said, " and I 
 am quite sure he will not care to make the change. He 
 dislikes being driven in a buggy, and never tires in the 
 saddle." 
 
 The doctor now came up with the water, and Dalrymple, 
 first casting his eyes up toward the sky and then fixing 
 them on the ground before him, strode with measured 
 pace back to his vehicle. 
 
140 ARDIS CLAVERDEtf. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 ON the morning after his return from the Ridgeby Caves, 
 Dr. Lester sat by the bedside of an invalid. He was 
 not there in the capacity of a physician, but as a nurse, a 
 counselor, a companion, a messenger, or in any capacity 
 of general utility. 
 
 " I believe you, Bonnet," said the doctor, " in what you 
 say about the value of a wife's hand when employed in 
 rubbing in an embrocation. And does that shoulder feel 
 any better now? " 
 
 "Indeed it does," said Bonetti, "and if it didn't I 
 couldn't talk. At first it pained me so that I could 
 scarcely whisper, and that's what I call a pretty bad hurt." 
 
 " You are right," said the doctor. " And you seem to 
 have been extensively damaged otherwise." 
 
 " I should say so ! " replied the other. " Head nearly 
 broken, bruises all over me, and I didn't count the cuts 
 and scratches. How I got myself out of the caves I really 
 can't see!" 
 
 " What I cannot see," said the doctor, " is how you got 
 into the caves, or out of them, or why you undertook such 
 a mad piece of business." 
 
 " The first part," said Bonetti, a little quiet light of sat- 
 isfaction coming into his eyes, " was easy enough. There 
 is a way into the Ridgeby Caves that I know, and nobody 
 else does. It takes a pretty spry man to get in or out of 
 it, and if ever I show it to anybody I'll show it to you, 
 Dr. Lester." 
 
 " I don't want to see it," said ths doctor, earnestly. " I 
 positively decline to know anything about it." 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. I 4 ! 
 
 "All right," said the other. "I went in that way, and 
 I came out that way. I went in because I hoped I'd get 
 a chance to give that man a good thrashing, because he 
 insulted me straight up and down, the worst way; and 
 that's the sort of thing I don't take from any man ! " 
 
 " But Bonnet/' said the doctor, " it is quite plain that 
 you did take the insult, and a good beating besides. But 
 no matter what your reasons were, your conduct is totally 
 inexcusable." 
 
 " I don't look on it in that light," said Bonnetti. " I 
 wanted to give him a quick thrash, and I didn't want to 
 injure my reputation either. I have got a wife and 
 daughters, and I owe something to them. People think 
 of me as a peaceable man, and I want 'em to keep on 
 thinkin' so. When I heard he was goin' into the caves I 
 thought that was my chance and I took it. I had matches 
 and candles in my pocket, and I wore a rubber overcoat 
 and boots. I can wait in the dark and the wet as long 
 as any man, and I know the caves as well as Purley does. I 
 didn't do much at follerin' 'em till they were comin' back 
 because it's when people are comin' back that they straggle. 
 I had a notion that man would try to go prowlin' round by 
 himself, but I didn't think he'd give me such a good chance 
 as he did. I couldn't have asked for anything better ! " 
 
 " Except that the man you attacked should not have 
 been so stout," said the doctor. " It was a low-down 
 trick to do that thing in the dark, Bonnet." 
 
 " I don't agree with you, doctor," said Bonetti. " You 
 are always forgettin' my wife and daughters. But he was 
 a tough fellow, most certain, and gave it to me hot and 
 heavy. But I gave him as good as I got and my mind 
 feels easier, though my body don't." 
 
 " It has been all wrong, Bonnet, in every possible way," 
 said the doctor. " I won't say any more about jumping 
 
142 AKDIS CLA VERDE N. 
 
 on a man in the dark, but you have done wrong to me 
 by telling me all this. Here I am to meet a gentleman 
 who has been most mysteriously assaulted; I hear Major 
 Claverden raging about the unparalleled injury done to 
 a man who is a guest beneath his roof; and for days I 
 shall listen to all sorts of plans for discovering and cap- 
 turing the person who did this deed ; and I must hold my 
 tongue or send you to jail, Bonnet." 
 
 " I don't see that I've done you any wrong, doctor," 
 said Bonetti. " It just happened that you came, you 
 know. You were passin' by here and you stopped in. 
 You've often done that before, and it's not my fault that 
 you did it now. You heard I was sick in bed and you 
 came up to see me. Was that my fault? And when you 
 got here you asked me what was the matter, and do you 
 suppose I was goin' to tell you a lie? You wouldn't like 
 me to lie to you, would you, doctor? " 
 
 " No," replied the other, " I should not like it." 
 
 "Well then," said Bonetti, "the whole thing just hap- 
 pened and it's nobody's fault." 
 
 The doctor made no reply, but his face showed that he 
 deeply felt the unpleasant position in which he had been 
 placed by his brother philosophizer. 
 
 " There is one thing," resumed Bonetti, " which is bad. 
 There's no gettin' around it; it's very bad! I suppose 
 that man would have been goin' away in a day or two, 
 judgin' by the time such people generally stay at gentle- 
 men's houses. But now there's no knowin' when he'll go. 
 Major Claverden won't let him go until he is clean well. 
 And, what's more, he'll not want to be well as long as he 
 has got Miss Ardis to take care of him. And she'll take 
 care of him because she's a woman. I know women. 
 When anybody is sick they haven't got no back bone at 
 all. They just go in and do everything they know how." 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 143 
 
 "Well?" said the doctor, now listening with great in- 
 terest. 
 
 " It is all as plain as daylight," said Bonetti. " He'll 
 make the most of his time, and, as like as not hell get her." 
 
 " I don't believe it! " said the doctor warmly. 
 
 " Of course," said Bonetti, " if there was any one else 
 around it would be different, but he will have her all to 
 himself. If Roger Dunworth was at home I'd feel easier 
 about it. He wouldn't stand by and let Surrey walk over 
 the course. Dunworth is the man that wants her, and 
 ought to have her. Don't you say so, doctor? " 
 
 Dr. Lester pushed back his chair a little and looked 
 out of the window. " Yes," he said. 
 
 " But he isn't here," continued Bonetti. " My wife tells 
 me that he passed by here yesterday mornin' in his buggy 
 goin' to town with his yaller boy, Jim. And when Jim 
 came back without him she stopped him, and he told her 
 Mister Roger had gone off on the train, he didn't know 
 where. So you see, doctor, it's a pretty bad case." 
 
 " I cannot believe in the danger you speak of," said the 
 doctor, " but I shall be truly sorry if Surrey is obliged to 
 remain at Bald Hill." 
 
 "Indeed you will be sorry!" said Bonetti, "and there 
 is only one thing to be done, and that is for you to go in." 
 
 "I go in!" exclaimed the doctor. "What do you 
 mean?" 
 
 " I mean," said Bonetti, " for you to pitch right in and 
 cut Surrey out, just as Dunworth would do if he was here. 
 I know it seems a little off- color, but it can't be helped. 
 Any port in a storm. If you would forget all them reso- 
 lutions of yours and go in strong, it wouldn't do her any 
 hurt and it might drive that man off, or hinder him, any 
 way." 
 
 "O Bonnet! Bonnet!" exclaimed Dr. Lester, "what 
 
144 
 
 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 are you talking about? It would never do for me to un- 
 dertake that sort of thing. How could I stop myself if I 
 made a start like that? " 
 
 " I don't want you to stop yourself," said Bonetti. 
 " There is a chance that Surrey may get her ; and that is 
 all you or I should think of. You may not have to stick 
 it out very long, and when Surrey clears out, if you find 
 you've got in a little too deep, you can clear out too. You 
 might travel for awhile. There's lots of things you might 
 do." 
 
 " Bonnet," cried the doctor, rising to his feet, " is your 
 blood as cold and earthy as the drops that turn into stone 
 in Ridgeby Caves? Can you lie there and calmly talk to 
 me about doing a thing like that?' The very thought of 
 it is enough to drive a man mad! " 
 
 " There's no use in gettin' excited, doctor," said Bonetti. 
 " There's sacrifices to be made in this world, and the best 
 thing we can do is to step out prompt and make 'em." 
 
 " Bonnet," said the doctor, taking up his hat and turn- 
 ing toward the door, " never propose such a plan as this 
 to me again!" 
 
 " Doctor," said Bonetti, " please wait one moment. 
 Suppose you had a bad pain in your leg from a bruise, 
 and there was a bowl on the table with whiskey and salt 
 in it, and close by it there was a bottle of arnica, if you 
 was goin' to do your own rubbin' which would you choose ? " 
 
 "Bonnet," said the doctor, a little severely, "you know 
 I never prescribe ; you must do your own choosing. Good 
 day." 
 
 " Well," said Bonetti to himself as he uneasily turned 
 on his other side, " I am safe with him, for he'll never go 
 back on a friend." 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 145 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 IF Dr. Lester had followed Bonetti's advice he would 
 have greatly gratified Ardis, and she would not have 
 suspected the feelings that lay beneath his attentions. 
 The true character of the doctor's sentiments would never 
 have occurred to Ardis, and she would have been most 
 grateful to this old friend if his presence had in any way 
 acted as a barrier between her and Surrey. 
 
 It appeared as if Surrey was likely to remain at Bald 
 Hill for some time, and since he had taken that unfair 
 and unmanly advantage of her kindly solicitude, she had 
 spoken to him only in the most casual way. And she was 
 fully determined that he should have no opportunity to 
 repeat his offence nor even to allude to it. 
 
 Norma had declared that it was absolutely necessary for 
 her to return to Heatherley. To remain at Bald Hill with 
 Norma away and Surrey there was not to be thought of, 
 and Ardis decided to go home with her friend. 
 
 When this decision was communicated to her father on 
 the evening of the day after the return from the caves, the 
 mind of Major Claverden was troubled. The project did 
 not at all accord with his ideas of hospitality. For the 
 lady of the house to thus absent herself during the visit 
 of an invited guest was an impropriety at any time ; and 
 particularly so in the present case. But Ardis was stead- 
 fast. It grieved her to run counter to her father's deep- 
 set ideas of courtesy and hospitality; and had Norma or 
 Dr. Lester been there to intervene between her and Mr. 
 Surrey che would have remained at home for the major's 
 10 
 
146 AXDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 sake. She would not tell her father what had happened, 
 for she knew it would cause in him a dire conflict between 
 anger and his notions of hospitality toward an injured man. 
 Major Claverden, as was his habit, soon ce-ased his oppo- 
 sition to his daughter's desire. 
 
 " Every attention that your patient needs," she said, 
 " can be given to him better under your direction than 
 under mine, and I think it likely that I shall return very 
 soon." 
 
 In saying this Ardis spoke the truth, for she believed 
 that as Surrey must understand why she had gone away he 
 would soon depart. It would not take long for a healthy 
 man, such as he was, to regain his ordinary strength. 
 
 There was another motive which prompted Ardis to go 
 away. There was within her a desire, one which she did 
 not acknowledge to herself but which existed in consider- 
 able force, to make Roger Dunworth aware that the im- 
 pression he had received regarding herself and Surrey was 
 an erroneous one. To do this the first step necessary was 
 to separate herself from Surrey. 
 
 The next morning at breakfast, when Major Claverden 
 informed his guest that his daughter and Miss Cranton 
 had gone to the home of the latter an hour before, his 
 courteous disposition prompted him to make sundry ex- 
 cuses for this abrupt departure. To these, however, his 
 guest paid little attention. He said nothing except a few 
 words of regret at the absence of the ladies, but he 
 thought a good deal. It was quite plain to him why Ardis 
 had gone away, and his thoughts principally regarded his 
 own action: what ought he to do now? 
 
 After breakfast, when he had an hour or two to himself, 
 he gave this subject a great deal of consideration. He 
 decided upon but one thing, and that was to stay at Bald 
 Hill as long as he could. Major Claverden had asserted 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEX. 147 
 
 that he would not allow him to leave his house until he 
 had recovered from the effect of his wound. The period 
 of entire recovery could of course be postponed or hastened 
 according to circumstances ; and Surrey would wait and 
 see if Fate would yet give him an opportunity to set him- 
 self right with Ardis. If he should have this opportunity, 
 he did not at all despair of success. He knew well that 
 he had angered her, but before this he had made his 
 peace with angered women, and he considered himself 
 peculiarly proficient in this sort of pacification. Indeed 
 he believed that he showed to better advantage in the eyes 
 of a woman conciliated than in those of one with whom 
 that process had not been necessary. He had made a 
 mistake with Ardis, but that mistake could easily be ex- 
 plained. When a man's love is so powerful as to run 
 away with him, that fact ought to be used with much effect 
 in an amorous argument. 
 
 At all events Surrey was firm in his determination that 
 he would not leave this neighborhood until there was no 
 further hope of an interview with Ardis. It might be that 
 she would be obliged to return in a few days, and if he 
 saw that it was useless to expect her return while he was 
 at Bald Hill, it would be quite within the bounds of polite- 
 ness for him to ride over to Heatherley and take leave of 
 Ardis and Miss Cranton. Should he do this he doubted 
 not that he would get or make an opportunity to speak 
 with Ardis. He did not flatter himself that his task would 
 be an easy one; he knew it would be hard. He had seen 
 Dunworth sitting stone-like on his horse, and he had looked 
 upon the pale face of Ardis as she had sprung to her feet, 
 and he knew that he had a rival. He also perceived that 
 he was going to have another rival in the person of the 
 young man who had joined them at Purley's tavern. But 
 these facts did not affect his courage or his purpose. He 
 
148 ARD2S CLAVERDEN. 
 
 was a brave man, and believing himself, in matters of love, 
 as deserving as any other man, had never hesitated, when 
 occasion required, to make strong effort to prove this con- 
 viction correct. 
 
 Now that his daughter had gone, Major Claverden ex- 
 erted himself in every way to promote the comfort and 
 pleasure of his guest. Not only had he a deep sympathy 
 for Mr. Surrey's misfortune, but he greatly desired that he 
 should not consider himself deserted or de trop. More 
 than this the major really liked Surrey, and was glad to 
 have him for a companion. He did not for a moment 
 look upon him in the light of a suitor for his daughter's 
 hand ; and if he had so looked he would not have consid- 
 ered him as one she would allow to urge his suit. Sur- 
 rey was a congenial companion at table, a good story- 
 teller, well informed on many points, and, above all, he 
 was one of the very few persons who took an intelligent 
 interest in the wine of Bald Hill. Surrey devoted himself 
 earnestly to a study of the culture of the vine and the 
 properties of the grape, and particularly to those especial 
 vines and grapes on which Major Claverden founded his 
 hopes. Sometimes he could not help laughing a little to 
 himself that he should be engaged in researches so utterly 
 foreign to the ordinary occupations of his mind ; but when 
 he had an object before him he was accustomed to work 
 with energy to accomplish it. He knew it would be 
 greatly to his advantage to win the favor of the major, but, 
 more than this, he had a genuine desire to become pro- 
 ficient in pursuits which, if the matrimonial project suc- 
 ceeded, might become his own. He believed it would suit 
 him very well to become a country gentleman, at least for 
 a part of the year, and if the estate of Bald Hill should 
 ever come under his management he wished to know how 
 to manage it to advantage. That his chances of succeed- 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 149 
 
 ing to such management appeared to him slighter than 
 they had a few days before had no effect upon his pur- 
 pose. If he had any chance whatever of success, he would 
 do what he could to prepare himself to take full advantage 
 of that success should it come. 
 
 Surrey had given much consideration to the major's 
 experiments, and considering the experience of the ex- 
 perimenter, the favorable conditions and the good pro- 
 gress that had apparently been made, he could see no 
 good reason why the wine of Bald Hill should not become 
 the Johannisberger of America, and yield a fortune to the 
 men who controlled the vineyards. So, at all hours Jack 
 Surrey talked "grape" with his host, making suggestions 
 which were not without value, and listening attentively to 
 theories and details of practice, thus making himself such 
 an agreeable companion to Major Claverden, that the 
 latter frequently declared that it was eminently proper 
 that he should remain at Bald Hill and write the article 
 for which the notes and sketches had there been made. 
 
 On the day of her arrival at Heatherley, Ardis wrote a 
 note to Roger Dunworth. She greatly disliked to do this, 
 but anything was better than to allow him to remain under 
 the mistaken impression which she knew had been made 
 upon him. After what she had said to him concerning 
 her intentions to allow no man to make love to her, she 
 could not endure the thought that he should have cause 
 to believe that she was not only permitting attentions from 
 Mr. Surrey, but reciprocating them. Her regard for her 
 own integrity, and her desire for its full recognition, would 
 not allow her to rest until she had written to Dunworth to 
 ask him to come to see her at Heatherley on a subject of 
 importance. When he came she would quickly make him 
 understand the true state of the case ; and then all she 
 had previously said to him would have the same force and 
 purport that it had had when she had said it. 
 
150 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 But her messenger returned with the news that Mr. 
 Dunworth had left his house two days before, and that 
 his destination was not known. It was supposed, however, 
 that he would soon return. With much disappointment, 
 therefore, Ardis put her note in her portfolio to be sent 
 again as soon as she should hear that Mr. Dunworth had 
 come back. 
 
 But a week passed and he did not come back ; and 
 great was the talk of the neighborhood concerning this 
 fact. He had made known his intentions to no one ; he 
 had left no directions behind him; he had not written; 
 and the boy who had driven him to Bolton did not know 
 whether he had taken a Northern bound train or one 
 going South. The ticket agent at the station recollected 
 having sold him a ticket, but there was a train up and one 
 down at nearly the same hour, and he could not remember 
 for which one Mr. Dunworth had taken his ticket. 
 
 Messrs. Parchester, Skitt, and Cruppledean were now 
 left in charge of affairs at the Dunworth farm, and they 
 managed them to the best of their ability, but there were 
 things that they did not understand, and in cases of doubt 
 or ignorance they naturally consulted with their com- 
 patriots, the Quantrills. Miss Airpenny, who seemed to 
 have given up all thoughts of present travel, was much 
 concerned at the condition of the Dunworth household. 
 She had bought her riding horse of Roger Dunworth, and, 
 strange to say, this transaction had caused her to like him. 
 She listened with much attention to what the three agri- 
 cultural pupils had to say, and then she spoke : 
 
 "What that place wants," she said, "is a head; and as 
 I have one which is out of employment at present, I shall 
 take it there. Whether the man comes back to-morrow, 
 or stays away a fortnight longer, it is a Christian duty to 
 see that he does not suffer for it. That he should go 
 
ARD1S CL AVER DEN. 151 
 
 away when he feels like it and stay away as long as he 
 chooses shows that some of the English blood of his an- 
 cestors is left in him, and I shall stand by English blood 
 wherever I find it! " 
 
 "What are you going to do?" asked Mr. Quantrill. 
 " Are you going to teach those boys American farming? " 
 
 " I don't propose to teach them anything," said Miss 
 Airpenny, " but I shall see to it that they shall do what 
 they have been taught. And I shall teach somebody I 
 don't know who yet how to keep a house in order so 
 that it shall be fit for the master to come back to, or be 
 brought back to, if so be it that is the case. Now will you 
 be good enough to have my horse saddled? " 
 
 Parchester, Skitt, and Cruppledean were not entirely 
 pleased with Miss Airpenny's assumption of the vacant 
 throne, but they knew that when she had made up her 
 mind to do what she deemed a good action, and which 
 at the same time accorded with her inclinations, it would 
 be a waste of energy to endeavor to oppose her. And, 
 therefore, the four rode back together to the Dunworth 
 farm. 
 
 Roger Dunworth had a widowed sister who lived in 
 Kentucky, and as it was known that he frequently assisted 
 her in the management of her affairs, it was supposed by 
 many persons that he had suddenly been called away on 
 her account. But as is usual in such cases, most people 
 talked and surmised while one person acted. That person 
 was Miss Airpenny. 
 
 " If I understood housekeeping in the American fash- 
 ion," she said to the Dunworth house servants, "I should 
 have you do your work in that way, and should see that 
 you did it properly. But I don't understand it. and there- 
 fore shall do my housekeeping in the way I do understand. 
 I want you to know that we must now have tea and but- 
 
'5* 
 
 ARDIS CLA VEKDRX. 
 
 tered toast for breakfast, and no kind of hot bread nor 
 coffee. And you are not all to go to bed at nine o'clock, 
 for about that time we shall have supper." 
 
 Aunt Lucy in the kitchen lifted up her hands and eyes 
 in solemn sadness when Miss Airpenny had gone from 
 her. " I's allus prayed to live long," she said, " an', so 
 far, my pra'rs has been answered. But I never reckined 
 to live long 'nuf to git breakfus' without hot bread. If 
 Mr. Roger don' come back soon I reckin it's about time 
 to stop de pra'rs an' git ready fer de udder shohr." 
 
 But as Mr. Roger might come home any day the prayers 
 were not stopped, and the new kind of breakfast was pre- 
 pared every morning and enjoyed. 
 
 Major Claverden thought a great deal and talked a 
 great deal about Dunworth's absence. He talked at 
 home, and he rode over to the Dunworth place and talked 
 to Miss Airpenny. 
 
 "There is every reason to suppose," said he to the 
 latter, " that my young friend is with his sister. But why 
 he does not write I cannot imagine ! " 
 
 "Now really, sir," exclaimed Miss Airpenny, "don't 
 you think that this business of trying to imagine why peo- 
 ple don't do this thing or that is very tiresome? It is not 
 only that, but it is dangerous. It is like twirling one's 
 self about with a gun in one's hand and firing at random, 
 hoping to hit a bird. There is about a chance in a million 
 that one may hit a bird, but one is much more likely to 
 kill a neighbor's child." 
 
 The major smiled. "I have no desire, madam, to 
 commit murder with my suppositions." 
 
 " Of course not," said Miss Airpenny, " but wild imag- 
 inings may do almost as much harm as wild shots." 
 
 " Your sentiments are highly commendable, madam," 
 said the major, " and I will restrict my suppositions to 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 153 
 
 what you may consider a blank cartridge. I will take it 
 for granted that, intending every day to return, Mr. Dun- 
 worth does not think it worth while to write." 
 
 Miss Airpenny agreed that this sort of shot would not 
 hurt anybody. And after making a hearty offer of his 
 services, or his advice, should either be needed, Major 
 Claverden took his leave. 
 
 Jack Surrey did not believe that Dunworth had been 
 called from home by family affairs. The man on the 
 horse who had dashed away from Ridgeby Caves was not 
 absent because he wanted to see his sister. " What I 
 must do," thought Surrey, " is to have my say with Ardis 
 Claverden before that fellow comes back! " 
 
 There were not many visitors now at Bald Hill, but 
 Egbert Dalrymple, very correctly attired in riding costume, 
 ambled up to the door on the afternoon of the day on 
 which Ardis had departed ; but on being informed that 
 the young lady had gone away on a visit to Heatherley, 
 he slightly frowned, cast his eyes upon the ground, and 
 rode away. 
 
 Jack Surrey looked after him. " There is no danger in 
 that fellow," he said. " There is not enough of the stay- 
 ing quality in him. But if I really thought that such an 
 ass had any chance of first reaching the winning-post, I 
 should be ashamed to be in the race ! " 
 
154 AKDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 LIKE Mr. Surrey, Ardis knew very well that Roger 
 Dunworth had not gone to see his sister. That he 
 had gone at all troubled her much. And yet she did not 
 blame herself for anything she had said or done. Under 
 similar circumstances she would again say to him the 
 same things. That which grieved and troubled her had 
 been an accident, and a most unfortunate one. Had not 
 Mr. Dunworth appeared at the only time when he could 
 have received that false and shocking impression, there 
 would have been nothing to regret, except, indeed, Mr. 
 Surrey's impropriety. 
 
 She now believed that he had come to the Ridgeby 
 Caves because he was in a better state of mind than when 
 she had last seen him, and had determined to put himself 
 on his old footing, and to be the good friend and com- 
 panion of former days. That this purpose had been 
 thwarted in the most unfortunate way agitated the soul 
 of Ardis as it never had been agitated before. She now 
 desired nothing so much as the opportunity of explaining 
 everything to Roger Dunworth. 
 
 There was a certain sensation heretofore very unusual 
 with Ardis, which at this time frequently possessed her ; 
 and this was the sensation of fear. It was a nervous 
 dread that Roger Dunworth would again make his appear- 
 ance when she and Surrey were together. She was very 
 sure that the latter would not omit the courteous perform- 
 ance of coming to Heatherley to take leave of her, when 
 about to end his visit to Bald Hill. This event might 
 
ARDIS CL AVER DEN. 155 
 
 take place at any time, and under its cover she knew 
 that he would have something to say. She also would 
 have something to say which should be very brief and de- 
 cisive. But the presentiment never left her that at the 
 moment of this conference, short as it might be, there 
 would appear before her the pained and pallid face of 
 Roger. This feeling was so strong that she sometimes 
 found herself looking out of an upper window, this way 
 and that, to see if some one were coming. Should the 
 some one be Roger Dunworth, she would hasten to meet 
 him ; and, after that, the sooner Surrey came the better, 
 in order that he might know what she had to tell him and 
 depart. 
 
 But her agitation and her nervous fear were known 
 only to herself. She would not have it supposed that she 
 had anything to do with the absence of Roger Dunworth ; 
 or that it occasioned in her anything more than the natu- 
 ral anxiety which it gave to all his friends and neighbors. 
 The Cranton family found her a most lively and agree- 
 able visitor. 
 
 But it was not only the Heatherley people who found 
 her agreeable. On the third day after her arrival there 
 Mr. Egbert Dalrymple appeared; this time alone in a 
 buggy, and in an attire suited to the season of early 
 autumn. The brownish-green hue of his harmonious 
 garments was relieved by a single touch of color. 
 
 Ardis was glad to see him. It is true she knew him 
 but slightly, and when they had talked of him she and 
 Norma had laughed at him ; but she was very well satis- 
 fied that he should come at this time. The Cranton 
 family was a busy one, and unless she followed its mem- 
 bers about, a proceeding not always desirable to them or 
 to herself, she was frequently left alone. It was at these 
 periods she most feared the arrival of Surrey, and that 
 
156 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 in one of them Mr. Dalrymple should come instead was 
 a relief. Therefore it was that she held out her hand 
 with a bright smile to Mr. Dalrymple. 
 
 This young man was not given to concealing his senti- 
 ments. Whatever his mood he made it apparent ; and if 
 it suited him to put his thoughts into words, it mattered 
 little to him whether or not other people cared to hear 
 those words. He soon made it plain to Ardis that he had 
 come there expressly to see her; that it gave him great 
 pleasure to see her; and that he did not want to see any- 
 body else. These sentiments, enunciated with a tasteful 
 force peculiar to Mr. Dalrymple, amused her and did not 
 displease her. 
 
 When he had been with her from five to seven minutes, 
 Mr. Dalrymple, still seated, threw himself into an attitude 
 of respectful importunity. 
 
 " Miss Claverden," said he, " will you not drive with 
 me? I came in a buggy for this. The day is all that 
 could be desired." And he rose to his feet as if the 
 matter were settled. 
 
 His assured manner made Ardis laugh. " If you had 
 brought a larger vehicle," she said, " so that Miss Cranton, 
 who is my friend and hostess, could go with us, your in- 
 vitation might have been considered." 
 
 Mr. Dalrymple folded his arms and gazed over them to 
 the floor. "Miss Cranton?" he said. "So!" Then 
 suddenly turning toward Ardis, " I cannot comprehend," 
 he said, " this craving for other people. I abhor other 
 people! They are always in the way! One cannot es- 
 tablish a harmony if other people are tolerated. Do you 
 follow me, Miss Claverden? " 
 
 " Oh, yes," replied Ardis. " And may I ask, Mr. Dal- 
 rymple, if you are a proficient in the art of establishing 
 harmonies?" 
 
ARDIS CLA VEKDEN. 
 
 '57 
 
 "Proficient!" exclaimed the young gentlemen, "I 
 would I were! " And his face grew sombre. Then sud- 
 denly his expression changed to one of thoughtful deter- 
 mination, lightened by a touch of hopeful belief. He 
 placed a chair in front of Ardis and sat down, one foot 
 advanced, the other drawn well back, his body slightly in- 
 clined forward, and his right hand in the breast of his 
 partly buttoned coat. "Miss Claverden," he said, "har- 
 monies depend upon sympathies. And perfect sympa- 
 thies how rare! There are millions of stars in the sky 
 at night, but have you ever tried to find two which are 
 verily alike? There are such. We know it. But the 
 task of discovering them is arduous indeed ! " 
 
 " I never thought of that," said Ardis, " but when I was 
 a little girl I used to try to find two sassafras leaves that 
 were alike. You can't imagine, Mr. Dalrymple, how 
 almost impossible it is to establish a harmony in a sassa- 
 fras tree." 
 
 Mr. Dalrymple made no answer to this remark, and his 
 face indicated the presence of a gentle pain, quickly fol- 
 lowed by a generous resignation. He let his eyes move 
 around the room ; they fell upon the piano. He arose, 
 approached it, and picked up a piece of music. Then 
 he dropped casually upon the stool, and strummed a few 
 notes. After a little he turned himself about, and, still 
 seated on the stool, began to talk of Mendelssohn and 
 Strauss. The conversation on musical subjects continued 
 until Norma came in, and, very shortly after this, the 
 visitor departed. 
 
 The next day Mr. Egbert Dalrymple came again ; this 
 time bringing Ardis a bouquet composed of a few long- 
 stemmed flowers harmoniously arranged. As he entered 
 the parlor he noticed that Ardis was dressed in blue, and, 
 therefore, drawing from his bouquet a spray of purple 
 
158 AKDIS CLAVERDEX. 
 
 blossoms, the most beautiful of all, he threw it out of the 
 window. Then, with a bow, he begged Miss Claverden 
 to be seated and laid his offering in her lap. 
 
 Every morning this young gentleman came to Heather- 
 ley, and his coming created a great deal of amusement in 
 the Cranton household. Ardis laughed as much as any of 
 them no one would have connected nervous agitation or 
 mental dread with her demeanor but she did not dis- 
 courage the visits of the young man. 
 
 It was in the mornings that she was most alone ; it was 
 in the mornings that he came ; and it was in the mornings 
 that she looked out for the approach of Dun worth, or of 
 Surrey. If the first had come, how quickly would Egbert 
 Dalrymple have been shaken off! If the latter, how 
 closely would he have been detained! 
 
 It is true that Ardis frequently felt herself bored by the 
 effort to establish harmonies, whether between flowers or 
 stars, or human souls ; but anything of this sort was better 
 than the terrible discordance for which she was continually 
 looking out. In the matter of conversational intercourse 
 she would have preferred visits from Dr. Lester, but she 
 feared Dr. Lester was a man who would courteously retire 
 before a Surrey. Egbert Dalrymple she knew would retire 
 before no man so long as she allowed him to stay. And 
 then again Dr. Lester did not come to Heatherley during 
 Ardis's stay. There was something strange in this, and it 
 was talked about by the Crantons. Ardis was sorry that 
 her old friend stayed away; knowing his helpful disposi- 
 tion and his devotion to his friends, she conjectured that 
 he did not accept the general interpretation of Roger 
 Dunworth's absence, and that he was looking deeper into 
 the matter than any one else had done. Therefore she 
 wished to see him, hoping that she might learn what he 
 had. learned. 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 159 
 
 But instead of Roger Dunworth, or Mr. Surrey, or Dr f 
 Lester, every day came Egbert Dalrymple ; and no bolder, 
 franker, and more truly uncloaked suitor ever entered lists 
 to fight for lady's hand. Other men might adore in secret, 
 plan and contrive, rack themselves with jealousy, or sadly 
 assign themselves to their fate. His business in life was 
 to establish a harmony with Ardis Claverden, and to that 
 he devoted himself. 
 
160 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 ARDIS had now been ten days at Heatherley, and her 
 mind began to be disturbed to such a degree that it 
 was difficult to conceal the disturbance under her ordinary 
 demeanor. Nothing had been heard from Roger Dun- 
 worth, and, so far as she knew, Mr. Surrey intended to 
 spend the autumn at Bald Hill. She had received a note 
 from her father in which he said he thought her visit to 
 the Crantons had continued quite long enough, but he 
 made no reference to the departure of his guest. What 
 she ought to do Ardis knew not. To stay away from 
 home any longer would make the reason plain to every- 
 body and that very unpleasantly. To acquaint her father 
 with the real reason of her absence would make it neces- 
 sary for him to inflict a wound upon his own hospitable 
 heart ; and to go to Bald Hill while Surrey was there was 
 impossible. 
 
 Ardis knew that Norma understood why she stayed 
 away from her home, but the Cranton family must soon 
 begin to wonder at this protracted visit; perhaps the 
 neighbors were already talking about it, and even her 
 father would begin to suspect that there must be an un- 
 usual reason for her desertion of his house for that of a 
 friend, so easy to visit at any time. 
 
 The feeling that something ought to be said or done 
 weighed heavily upon Ardis, but what to say or do she 
 could not decide. Mr. Dalrymple, too, was beginning to 
 weigh upon her; his eccentricities had ceased to interest 
 her and one morning, before it was time to expect him, 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEX. 161 
 
 she set out for a gallop over the fields on her mare, Janet, 
 which she had had brought over from Bald Hill. 
 
 She rode through the apple orchard to the great farm- 
 yard, crossed this, and at the other side ascended the slop- 
 ing road which ran along the side of the uplands which 
 formed the principal part of the Heatherley estate. Out 
 upon the open fields, with a beautiful country stretching 
 far around her, she touched her mare with the whip, and 
 away they went. Reaching the top of a gentle eminence, 
 which was the highest point in the field, Ardis reined up 
 and turned about to survey the scene. It was an inter- 
 esting country over which she gazed and it was her own 
 country. Every spot she saw she knew. 
 
 Far away stretched the blue line of the mountains; 
 forest and field gave various shades of green and brown 
 and red to the undulating landscape; the little river Tar- 
 diana wound through the scene showing itself here and 
 there. And in plain view, along the road which ran by 
 Heatherley, appeared a horseman. 
 
 Ardis smiled. " It is poor Mr. Dalrymple," she said to 
 herself. But instantly she changed her mind. The 
 horseman was too far away for her to recognize him, but 
 he was not coming from the direction of the Dalrymple 
 place. The mare was anxious to go on, but Ardis re- 
 strained her. She would wait and see whether or not the 
 man turned into the gateway. 
 
 He turned into the gateway and as he did so Ardis 
 recognized her father's sorrel riding horse, and, soon after, 
 she knew the rider to be Mr. Surrey. 
 
 "Oho! " she said to herself. " He is coming to make 
 a morning call at Heatherley!" A slight expression of 
 scorn came upon the face of Ardis. " The farther away 
 the better," she said. And turning Janet's head she rode 
 down the other side of the slope. 
 ii 
 
1 62 AKDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 / , 
 
 Ardis and the mare had a good hour of it, galloping 
 over level pastures, fording little streams, leaping a rail 
 fence now and then, but always keeping their heads turned 
 away from Heatherley. At length they came into a field 
 by which ran a public road, and on this road Ardis saw 
 a woman jogging slowly on a stout brown horse. This 
 rider, in an odd-looking green riding-habit, could have 
 been recognized at any distance as Miss Airpenny. 
 
 Ardis rode rapidly down to the fence and put her mare 
 straight at it. It was rather a high fence, but neither 
 Janet nor her rider thought for a moment of shirking the 
 leap. The animal gathered herself up, made a beautiful 
 spring, and went over without touching. 
 
 "Now, really!" exclaimed Miss Airpenny, not a hun- 
 dred feet away. " Is that the way you ride, and all alone 
 too? Don't you fancy that something might happen to 
 you, and nobody by ? " 
 
 Ardis laughed. " You nearly always ride alone, Miss 
 Airpenny," she said, "and yet I don't believe you ever 
 think of anything happening to you." 
 
 "I don't clear fences," said Miss Airpenny. "But 
 something has happened to me. And a very pleasant 
 thing it is, too! I have met a woman. You don't know 
 how I have been longing for the sight of another gown, 
 besides my own." 
 
 Both riders had now stopped their horses. 
 
 " Don't you find your present matronly position a con- 
 genial one?" asked Ardis. 
 
 "Not a bit of it! " said the other. "If I did not con- 
 sider it my duty to stay and take care of things I would 
 leave the house this day. You can't fancy what it is to 
 live with three regular cubs, and an irregular cub in the 
 shape of Tom Prouter dropping in at any moment ! Now 
 do you want to do a charitable deed? Come and take 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. ^3 
 
 dinner with me. The cubs and I dine early, you know. 
 Take pity on me, and come." 
 
 Ardis hesitated. She liked Miss Airpenny and would 
 be glad to visit her. There was no reason why she should 
 not go to the Dunworth place since Roger was not there 
 and Miss Airpenny was the hostess; and, as there was 
 every reason to suppose that Mr. Surrey would protract 
 his call as long as possible in order to see her, she did not 
 wish to return to Heatherley at present. After a few 
 moments' reflection she accepted Miss Airpenny's invita- 
 tion and the two rode on together. 
 
 " Have you heard anything from Mr. Dunworth? " asked 
 Ardis. 
 
 " Not a word," said Miss Airpenny. " And you are the 
 third person who has asked after him to-day. I am sure 
 it is greatly to Mr. Dunworth's credit that his neighbors 
 take such an interest in him." 
 
 A half-hour's ride brought the ladies to the house, and 
 Parchester, Skitt, and Cruppledean were not displeased 
 when they learned who was to dine with them and went 
 upstairs to put on their best coats ; while Tom Prouter, who 
 had been there all the morning, was positively delighted, 
 and thanked the happy star which had led him to come 
 and make his inquiries about Dunworth on this particular 
 day. It was a lively dinner table, for Miss Airpenny who 
 had been tired of talking to nobody but men now broke 
 into cheerful chat, and Ardis was careful to allow no 
 change to appear in her ordinary sprightly demeanor. 
 The three pupils listened earnestly and laughed a good 
 deal, but Prouter took his full share in the conversation. 
 The remarks in reference to Miss Claverden and himself, 
 which Cruppledean had once made to him, had ceased to 
 depress him. His boyish face glowed with unreasoning 
 hopefulness. 
 
1 64 ARDIS CLAVERDEX. 
 
 After dinner the sky began to darken and it was plain 
 that a storm was coming, and when Ardis spoke of hasten- 
 ing back to Heatherley before the rain, Miss Airpenny 
 took a look at the clouds and would not let her go. Fear- 
 ing that Norma might be troubled at her absence, Ardis 
 wrote a note to her, explaining the situation, and sent it 
 to Heatherley by a negro boy who thought much more of 
 an actual quarter-dollar than a possible drenching. In an 
 hour the boy returned, having got his drenching in spite 
 of the wild galloping of his mule, and brought an answer 
 from Norma. It ran thus: 
 
 " I am glad you are away, because Mr. Surrey is here. 
 He came to bid you good- by he says both of us, but I 
 don't believe it. He said he would wait until you re- 
 turned, and he is waiting now. Can't you stay with Miss 
 Airpenny until I send you word that he has gone away? 
 I told him you were visiting Miss Airpenny and I am 
 sure that he thinks she is at the Quantrills', and if he 
 chooses to ride over there it is his own business." 
 
 In consequence of this note ; of the fact that the storm 
 had developed into a steady rain ; and of Miss Airpenn^'s 
 most pressing invitation, Ardis determined to spend the 
 night where she was. Never was necessary farm work 
 hurried through so rapidly as on that afternoon. When 
 Miss Airpenny came into the parlor an hour before sun- 
 set, and saw the three farm pupils sitting there in their 
 best clothes, she was surprised. 
 
 " Have you seen that the milking has been done, and 
 that the cattle and horses have been properly attended 
 to?" she asked. 
 
 "All is arranged," said Parchester, with much com- 
 placency; and he with Skitt and Cruppledean continued 
 to sit and bask in the presence of Miss Claverden, while 
 Tom Prouter talked with her. Mr. Prouter had no more 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 165 
 
 idea of going home that night to attend to his own busi- 
 ness than he had of going to the house of some distant 
 stranger to attend to his business, and after supper he 
 gave some interesting details in regard to his milk route. 
 
 "The day before yesterday," said he, "I made up my 
 mind that the milk business is a tiresome bore, and that I 
 would give it up. And when I came over here to-day I 
 hoped I would find Dunworth had come back, so that I 
 could try to get him to buy the milk route with all the 
 plant." 
 
 " I expected that," said Miss Airpenny, " but you have 
 given up very soon. I thought you would hold out till 
 the middle of October. They have frost here by that 
 time, you know, and I expected that to nip you and your 
 projects." 
 
 " Frost ! " exclaimed Mr. Prouter, " I care no more for 
 frost than for sunshine ! But I'll tell you what did nip 
 me. For a week or more I've been driving one of the 
 wagons and serving the milk, for since I have given up 
 going round the country for no particular purpose I'm 
 bound to be busy at something, you know. I found serv- 
 ing milk rather jolly too, because I had never done it be- 
 fore and it was altogether a new kind of fun. But the day 
 before yesterday a big, fat, dirty black woman with an old 
 pitcher in one hand and six coppers in the other came 
 out to me, and when I poured out a quart of milk for her 
 she said : * Mister, I reckon you feeds your cows on lemon 
 skins, 'cause the milk gits sour almost as soon as you's 
 done gone.' * Now, look here, Aunt Polly, or whatever 
 your name is,' said I, ' I don't believe you ever wash that 
 pitcher. You go and tell your mistress that she can't ex- 
 pect to have sweet milk if it's put in a pitcher with old 
 milk sticking to the sides a week at a time.' ' Mistress! ' 
 said she, ' I ain't got no mistress/ * Who's this milk for? ' 
 
1 66 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 said I. ' It's fer me,' said she, ' me an' the chillun/ 
 1 Do you mean to say/ said I, ' that for a week past I have 
 been bringing milk to you? ' ' Yas, you has/ said she, 'an 7 
 ain't I paid you? ' Now, when the idea came to me that 
 I, a gentleman, you know, was making my living by fetch- 
 ing milk to dirty black niggers it made my blood boil! If 
 there had been a mistress behind her I wouldn't have 
 minded, but to be milkman to that African slattern was 
 too much! I slung the pennies she had paid me on the 
 sidewalk, and jerking the pitcher from her hand I dashed 
 it into the middle of the street, breaking it into bits, and 
 splashing the side of a carriage with milk-mud, which I 
 fancy had never happened to it before. I tossed the 
 woman half a dollar with which to buy a clean pitcher, 
 and then I set off at a gallop and ran over two ducks for 
 which I had to pay a nigger shoemaker seventy-five cents-, 
 though I'm sure he sent them to market afterward. And 
 as to the rest of my customers, I forgot all about them, 
 and there was a row the next day. Now, you know that 
 sort of thing don't pay, to say nothing of a man's family 
 feelings. Really, wasn't that reason enough for me to say 
 that I would wash my hands of that milk? " 
 
 There was a laugh and a general assent that his reason 
 was sufficient. 
 
 " Because you know," said Ardis, " as you are bound to 
 give up the business any way, you might as well give it up 
 for that reason as for any other." 
 
 This remark plunged Prouter into sudden thought. 
 Did not Miss Claverden believe in his determination to 
 be a man among men? Instantly there was a change in 
 his ideas. 
 
 " But I am not going to give it up! " he cried. " Day 
 before yesterday was one thing, and to-day is quite an- 
 other. I may not drive the wagons any more, but I do 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 167 
 
 not intend to be idle. I may as well stick to it. I dare 
 say there's a dirty nigger with an unwashed pitcher in 
 every profession, and I'll take mine just as other people 
 have to take theirs. Now, that's the way to look at it, 
 isn't it, Miss Claverden? " 
 
 " That is a way to look at it," said Ardis. 
 
 " But you surely think that a man ought not to sit idle 
 when everybody else is working?" 
 
 " I certainly think so, 17 was the answer. 
 
 " Good ! " exclaimed Prouter, clapping his hands on his 
 knees. 
 
 " Do you mean," asked Skitt, when the ladies had 
 retired for the night, " that you are going to keep up that 
 beastly milk business?" 
 
 " I mean," said Prouter, standing up very straight, with 
 a lighted match in one hand and a pipe in the other, 
 " that living in a land where man proves his worth by 
 honest endeavor I intend to do that same thing myself." 
 
 Parchester, Skitt, and Cruppledean laughed unrestrain- 
 edly. " You didn't think of all that before you saw Miss 
 Claverden to-day, did you? " asked the latter. 
 
 " No, sir, I did not," answered Prouter, with flashing 
 eyes, "but I think of it now! " And he lighted his pipe 
 just before the flame of the match reached his fingers. 
 
1 68 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE Dunworth house, although but two stories high, 
 was a long one and covered a good deal of ground ; 
 and on the first floor, at the extreme end of the building, 
 were two guest chambers, opening into each other, one of 
 which Miss Airpenny had appropriated to herself, and to 
 the other she conducted Ardis. Farther back than these 
 rooms, on the other side of a hall, stood the large room of 
 the master of the house. 
 
 " Look in here," said Miss Airpenny, as with a lamp in 
 her hand she approached the open door of this room. " I 
 keep everything ready for him whenever he chooses to 
 come back. Tom Prouter wanted to sleep in here be- 
 cause he said the room was a comfortable one, and might 
 as well be used. But I wouldn't listen to it. When a 
 man has true English blood in his veins, as Mr. Dunworth 
 has, and goes away when he feels like it, it is no more 
 than due to him that he shall find everything ready for 
 him when he feels like coming back. I had a brother 
 who started off one morning to buy a horse, but instead 
 of that he went to Canada and staid four year* and made 
 a lot of money, and when he came back he threw his hat 
 on the table and his top-coat over the back of his chair, 
 just as if what he had done had been a matter of course. 
 That's the way they all do it, and they can't see why 
 people should be surprised. True English blood will tell ! " 
 Ardis looked into the room with a peculiar interest. The 
 books, the large table littered with paper bags of seed and 
 this, that, and the other thing which Roger had temporarily 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 169 
 
 laid there; the arm-chair pushed obliquely back from the 
 table ; the long overcoat and hat hanging against the wall ; 
 the narrow bed in a far corner; everything in the room 
 impressed Ardis with the personality of its owner. She 
 had never seen this room before, but in it she could see 
 so much that represented Roger Dunworth that the man 
 himself seemed to be near her. 
 
 " Do you know," said Miss Airpenny, " that somehow, 
 when I look into this room I can't help fancying it be- 
 longed to somebody dead and gone? But I give such 
 thoughts short shrift, I tell you. I'd as lief be a French 
 woman as to think like that ! " 
 
 When Ardis had gone to bed she did not feel at all 
 like sleeping. The oddness of her situation kept her 
 mind very active. When she was a little girl and Roger 
 Dunworth's parents were alive ; she had visited this house, 
 but she had seen only a few of the rooms and did not 
 remember them very well. It was strange to be here now, 
 and as the guest of Miss Airpenny! It seemed to Ardis 
 that Roger's room had done more to impress him upon 
 her mind than all her previous intercourse with him. This 
 may have been so, or it may have been that the sight of 
 the room, with all its suggestions of personality, had fixed 
 and set impressions which had before been but partially 
 developed. With her eyes shut or open he was before her, 
 and he stood in the position which he had chosen to take, 
 and not in the one in which she had wished him to stand. 
 She went to sleep thinking of him, and thinking of him in 
 the light of a lover. 
 
 Ardis did not sleep well. Even after she had dropped 
 into a doze she was aroused by the young men going up- 
 stairs. Pupils of husbandry with a guest in their midst 
 are apt to be noisy, and although these young fellows had 
 no idea that they disturbed the ladies sleeping at the other 
 
170 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 end of the house, the slamming of the front door and their 
 heavy boots upon the stairs aroused Ardis, and she could 
 hear Miss Airpenny in the next room turn over and 
 grumble. Even after the young men had gone up-stairs 
 they could occasionally be heard, and after Ardis had sup- 
 posed she had been asleep for hours she was half-awakened 
 by the sound of footsteps and of closing doors. 
 
 In the morning she arose early, before Miss Airpenny, 
 and went out upon the piazza.. The air was fresh and 
 cool with white clouds hurrying across the blue sky. 
 Voices could be heard in the distant farm-yard, but she 
 saw no one, until a boy, whom she recognized as the little 
 fellow who, mounted on a much-too-spirited horse, had 
 once been sent after a runaway steer, came over the lawn 
 toward the house, his boots shining from contact with the 
 wet grass. 
 
 " Do you know where Mr. Parchester is, ma'am ? " asked 
 the boy. 
 
 " No," said Ardis. " Have you looked for him at the 
 barn? 1 ' 
 
 " He's not there," said the boy. " I reckon he's not up 
 yet. Will you please give him this note, ma'am, when he 
 comes down?" And going up the piazza steps the boy 
 handed Ardis a folded slip of paper. " Mr. Dunworth told 
 me just to give it to him, and there wouldn't be no an- 
 swer," said the boy, as he went down the steps. 
 
 " Who told you? " exclaimed Ardis, advancing suddenly 
 to the edge of the piazza. 
 
 The boy stopped. " Mr. Dunworth, ma'am," he said. 
 " He give it to me early this mornin' ; it wasn't real day- 
 light yet. I was goin' out to look at my traps an' nobody 
 else was up. He give me that note to give to Mr. Par- 
 Chester just before he went away." 
 
 Under ordinarv circumstances Ardis would have told 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. ! 7 ! 
 
 the boy that he should not set traps at this time of the 
 year, but now she thought of no such trifle. Her eyes 
 were wide open, her lips were slightly parted, her whole 
 soul was intent upon the answer to the questions which 
 she rapidly put to the boy. " When did he come ? 
 Where did he go ? " 
 
 " I don't know when he came, ma'am ; reckon it must 
 'a' been in the middle of the night. I asked 'em down 
 at the barn, but nobody seen him but me. I reckon he 
 come on Dr. Lester's yellow horse, for that's left in the 
 stable, but he went away on his own horse that big bay, 
 ma'am, that you once rode." 
 
 "And he didn't say where he was going ? " asked Ardis. 
 
 " Not to me, ma'am," said the boy. "All he said to me 
 was to give that note to Mr. Parchester." And then, 
 having told all that he knew, the boy went away. 
 
 Ardis stood motionless with the folded paper in her 
 hand, and her eyes fixed upon the distant landscape, but 
 seeing nothing. Roger Dunworth had been here! He 
 had been here, and she had been in his house ! It had 
 been he whom she had heard in the night walking about 
 and shutting doors. And she in his house! Now 
 she remembered something. There were two entrance 
 ways to this old mansion, both opening on the long front 
 piazza ; the smaller and narrower hallway lay between the 
 guest chambers and Roger Uunworth's room. By this 
 smaller door Ardis and Miss Airpenny had gone to their 
 rooms the evening before, and Ardis remembered that 
 Miss Airpenny had locked it behind them. Ardis had 
 found this door open this morning, but had thought noth- 
 ing of the circumstance. But now she felt sure that Roger 
 Dunworth had gone out of that door. He had come in 
 some other way ; he had been in his room, hours perhaps ; 
 and he had gone out of that door in the early, early 
 
172 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 morning, leaving it open. He had passed by the very 
 door of her room! And he had gone! And where? 
 
 Ardis stood still, thinking vehemently. He had seen 
 no one; he could have had no idea she was there. Had 
 he known she was there, would he have staid? Had 
 she known he was there, she would have called to him; 
 she would have dressed herself and gone out to him ; she 
 would have told him what a dreadful and wrong impres- 
 sion he had received the day he came to the Ridgeby 
 Caves; and then, had he chosen, he might have gone. 
 But he would have known. 
 
 But here was this note. This might tell something. 
 Where was Mr. Parchester? She stepped quickly to the 
 large front door, but it was locked. Then she went back 
 to the other door and entered the house. She walked 
 along the passage, but saw no one. The door of Roger 
 Dunworth's room was open wide, and as she passed it she 
 could not help looking in. It was just as she had seen it 
 the evening before. But no! The heavy overcoat and hat 
 that had hung against the wall were gone. Her quick eye 
 noticed this, and the sight of the empty peg struck her 
 like a missile. If he had intended soon to return, Roger 
 would not have taken that great, heavy overcoat. She 
 turned quickly and went away, and as she walked toward 
 the open door she heard footsteps upon the piazza. She 
 ran out, and there she saw Mr. Parchester, always the 
 earliest riser of the pupils, who had just come out of the 
 large front door. She hurried toward him. 
 
 " Mr. Parchester," she said, " here is a note for you 
 from Mr. Dunworth. It was handed to me by a boy. 
 Will you please read it quickly, and tell me where he is ? " 
 
 Mr. Parchester was surprised at the pale face and earn- 
 est manner of Miss Claverden, and he was somewhat con- 
 fused because he had on his rough and soiled farm clothes, 
 
AKDIS CLAVEKDEN. 173 
 
 / 
 
 not expecting to meet the young lady so early in the 
 morning. But he was not in the least perturbed by re- 
 ceiving a note from Mr. Dunworth, and he immediately 
 opened and read it. " There is not much in it," he said, 
 " and he does not give his address." And he handed the 
 note to Ardis. She read it eagerly. It ran thus: 
 
 " Mr. Parchester: I do not know when I shall be back. 
 I leave the direction of the farm to you. Do not attempt 
 anything new. You know the fields which are for wheat 
 this season. Have it put in as it was last year. Get 
 everything ready for winter. 
 
 " Yours truly, R. D." 
 
 There was a strange appearance in Ardis 1 eyes as she 
 looked up from this note to Mr. Parchester' s face. " It 
 seems," she said, and the words did not appear to come 
 easily, " as if Mr. Dunworth intended to stay away for a 
 long time." 
 
 Mr. Parchester looked steadily at the beautiful eyes 
 which were fixed upon him. He imagined that tears were 
 trying to get into them. "It does look that way," he 
 said, thinking but little of his instructor's intended ab- 
 sence and very much of the eyes. 
 
 Generally Ardis had good control over herself; but very 
 early in the morning, when one had not slept well, strong 
 emotion is apt to get the advantage of ordinary control. 
 The tears did come into her eyes. She saw that her com- 
 panion was looking at her with great interest, and she sa\v, 
 too, that he knew what it was in which she took so great 
 an interest. 
 
 Her present state of mind was novel to her. It an- 
 noyed her, but she could not help it. She knew it meant 
 a great deal, but she did not now endeavor to define to 
 
J74 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 herself what it meant. She looked at Mr. Parchester ; she 
 knew that by the emotion she "had shown, she had taken 
 this man, almost a stranger, into her confidence. 
 
 Ardis was quick to act. She held out her hand to him. 
 Mr. Parchester's hand was very large, the palm red and 
 rough, and the back of it hairy and covered with freckles, 
 and in it he took the soft white hand of Ardis, and held 
 it for a moment. 
 
 " Mr. Parchester," said she, "you will not speak of this, 
 will you?" She did not say what it was of which she 
 would not have him speak, but he knew, and promised 
 never to speak of it. And he never did. 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 175 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 THE intelligence of the night visit of Roger Dunworth 
 to his home caused much commotion in the house- 
 hold, and was the subject of anxious conversation at the 
 breakfast-table. Miss Airpenny was forced to admit that 
 the restlessness of true English blood was not sufficient 
 to account for this form of absentation. There must be 
 at the bottom of it something she could not understand. 
 
 " I dare say it's money," said Tom Prouter. " When a 
 man goes off this way it's as like as not there's money 
 trouble at the bottom of it. There was a gentleman in 
 Fligwich where my family live, Miss Claverden who 
 went off in very much this way and staid a fortnight; 
 but he came back all right, an uncle having died in the 
 mean time." 
 
 " But that sort of thing can't be depended on to hap- 
 pen," said Miss Airpenny. 
 
 " Now then," said Mr. Parchester, speaking up in a bold 
 manner very unusual with him, "that's all stuff about 
 money troubles. I know that last year was a very pros- 
 perous one with Mr. Dunworth, and there is no reason to 
 suppose that he has not all the money he wants. He has 
 gone away to attend to his own business in his own way, 
 and when he has attended to it he will come back ; and 
 that's all there is about it! " As he finished speaking he 
 could not help glancing at Ardis, and the look of grati- 
 tude which he received sent the blood into his face, which, 
 however, was not noticed on account of his general red- 
 ness. 
 
1 76 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 " I have no doubt you are right," said Ardis, " and I am 
 sure that Mr. Dunworth would not have gone away, if he 
 had not been able to leave his affairs in such good hands 
 as yours, Mr. Parchester, and those of your friends." 
 
 "Yes," said Miss Airpenny, "and if he had known I 
 was here I dare say he would have stopped to breakfast, 
 and have had a little talk with me. But of course he did 
 not feel himself called upon to explain his comings and 
 his goings to these boys. But I am puzzled now as to 
 what I shall do. I was perfectly willing to stay here a 
 week, or even a fortnight, and take care of the house ; but 
 as to staying on indefinitely, that is quite another thing, 
 you know." 
 
 "Now, look here!" exclaimed Tom Prouter. "I be- 
 lieve Dunworth would be dreadfully upset if he knew you 
 were going away from here." 
 
 "And you would be dreadfully upset," remarked Miss 
 Airpenny, "if you thought I was going back to Quan- 
 trill's." 
 
 The pupils of husbandry burst into an earnest and ap- 
 preciative laugh. Tom Prouter said nothing, but went to 
 work vigorously to eat his breakfast. 
 
 " Well," said Miss Airpenny, " I shall not go just yet. I 
 am putting the house through a regular course of clean- 
 ing, and I shall stay till that is finished. Then we shall 
 see what we shall see." 
 
 After breakfast Ardis received a note form Norma, 
 stating that Mr. Surrey had gone back to Bald Hill late 
 on the previous evening, and she, therefore, determined to 
 return to Heatherley immediately. Tom Prouter offered 
 to drive her over in his dog-cart or to borrow a saddle 
 and accompany her on horseback, but both propositions 
 she firmly declined. Ardis did not feel very pleasantly 
 disposed toward Mr. Prouter this morning. It was her 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 177 
 
 desire to go away by herself, but in any case she did not 
 wish the company of the man who had hinted that money 
 troubles were the cause of Roger's absence. 
 
 When Ardis had taken leave of the kind Miss Airpenny, 
 who greatly disliked to have her go, she did not return to 
 Heatherley by the way she had come, but took her way 
 through a lane which led to the road on which Dr. Lester's 
 house was situated. This was not her most direct way, 
 but Ardis had a reason for taking it. She had not for- 
 gotten that the boy had told her early that morning that 
 Mr. Dunworth had returned to his home on Dr. Lester's 
 horse, which had been left in the stables. This proved 
 that the doctor knew something of Roger's movements, 
 and Ardis determined to see Dr. Lester before she went 
 to Heatherley or anywhere else. 
 
 After passing between cultivated fields, the lane ran 
 along the edge of a piece of woodland which had been 
 greatly thinned out, so that the ground lay almost as much 
 in sunshine as in shadow. She had not ridden far upon 
 this pleasant roadway when, on rounding a curve, she saw 
 at a short distance a tall man walking toward her. 
 At the sight of him Ardis could but smile. Here was Dr. 
 Lester coming after his horse. 
 
 The doctor's eyes had been fixed upon the ground, but 
 at the sound of hoofs he raised his head, and his face was 
 lighted with a sudden joy. But he was surprised as well. 
 
 "Miss Ardis!" he exclaimed, stepping quickly toward 
 her, " how do you happen to be here ? " 
 
 " I spent last night with Miss Airpenny, who is taking 
 care of Roger Dunworth's house, you know. I was de- 
 tained by a storm. He was there in the night, though 
 nobody knew it until he had gone. And now, doctor, 
 please tell me what you know about him? You do know 
 something, don't you?" 
 12 
 
178 ARDIS CLAVERDEN, 
 
 The doctor looked steadily up at her and answered, 
 "Yes." 
 
 Without a word, Ardis released herself from the saddle 
 and stirrup and slipped to the ground. " I will not keep 
 you standing while we talk, doctor," she said, " and if you 
 will tie Janet, we will sit down on that log." 
 
 "You need not have troubled yourself to get down, 
 Miss Ardis," said the doctor. " I do not in the least mind 
 standing." 
 
 "But I do mind your standing," said Ardis. 
 
 The doctor pulled down an oak branch, to which he 
 tied the bridle of the mare; and then the two seated them- 
 selves on a part of a trunk of a tree which lay by the road- 
 side. 
 
 "Now," said Ardis, "what is it?" 
 
 The doctor saw that the girl was deeply interested. He 
 looked away from her, and although the light in his face 
 faded somewhat, there still remained with him that air of 
 kindly concern which was always present when Ardis was. 
 
 " I must begin at the beginning," said he, " although I 
 must admit that my mind is more exercised with the pres- 
 ent phase of Roger's absence. When he first went away 
 from home I was much troubled because I did not believe 
 that his business affairs, or those of anybody else, had so 
 suddenly called him away. He is not the man to leave 
 his home on business in that manner and say nothing to 
 any one. Something serious must have been the matter 
 with him. Now, as I knew that something serious was 
 the matter with him " 
 
 "What was it?" asked Ardis. 
 
 " He was in love with you," said the doctor. 
 
 "Did he tell you that?" 
 
 "No," said the other, "he did not tell me, nor was 
 there any necessity for telling me. I knew it very well, 
 
AKDIS CLAVERDEN. 179 
 
 and I also knew that recently his mind had been very 
 much stirred up on account of it. I did not know any 
 specific reason why this should be so, and when I went 
 after him " 
 
 " Do you mean to say you went after him ? " interrupted 
 Ardis. 
 
 " Yes," said the doctor ; " when I found that he had really 
 gone off somewhere, I made special and quiet inquiries at 
 and about the station and I discovered that it was more 
 than likely that he had taken a northern-bound train. In 
 that case I believed he had gone to Baltimore, because his 
 most particular friend, Sydney Gaither, lives there, and I 
 thought it probable that he would at least make a stop at 
 his house. So I took a night train and went to Gaither's, 
 and, sure enough, I found Roger. He looked badly and 
 was, of course, surprised to see me, but, on the whole, I 
 did not hesitate to tell Roger that I had come to Balti- 
 more on his account. When he knew this he frankly 
 told me his trouble. As I expected, it was all about you. 
 Your apparent liking for Surrey, and your refusal to listen 
 to Roger, had affected him a good deal ; but he had de- 
 termined to try to get over this. It was his last meeting 
 with you and Mr. Surrey the details of which he did not 
 give me which upset all his resolutions and nearly drove 
 him crazy. Then he went away. He was convinced that 
 he had lost you, and he ceased to care for anything. 
 
 " I did not press him with questions in regard to this 
 last meeting, for I saw that he could scarcely bear to 
 think of it, and he had said no more about it than that it 
 settled everything; but I told Roger that I believed, as I 
 truly did, that he was laboring under some cruel mistake, 
 and that he ought to go home, see you, and assure him- 
 self with certainty how matters stood between you. Know- 
 ing you as I do, and having noticed your avoidance of 
 
i8o ARDIS CLAVERDEX. 
 
 Mr. Surrey after your return from the caves, I was positive 
 that Roger was utterly mistaken in regard to you and that 
 man. Day after day I talked to him, and, at last, he be- 
 gan to take my view of the matter, and yesterday morning 
 he and I started home together. 
 
 " I thought it very likely that by this time Mr. Surrey 
 had gone away ; but even if he had not, it was right that 
 Roger should see you and have this matter settled. Had 
 he found that his fears were correct, I should not have 
 blamed him if he had thrown up his farm and had gone 
 away, anywhere far from here." 
 
 "Should not have blamed him?" exclaimed Ardis. 
 
 " No," returned the doctor; "he has told me how he 
 feels toward you. In everything important that he has 
 done in life he has thought of you. This is not a matter 
 of days or months ; it is a matter of years. Without you 
 this part of the world would be no place for him." 
 
 The doctor paused. " What next? " said Ardis. 
 
 "We arrived at Bolton late in the afternoon, hired a 
 carriage at the station, and drove to my house," said the 
 doctor, " and after supper I lent him my horse to ride over 
 to his place. He was to send the horse back, and I was 
 to go to Bald Hill this morning and find out whether or 
 not Mr. Surrey was there, and how affairs stood generally, 
 and report to Roger; after which he was to go to you. 
 My real object in making this plan was to see you before 
 Roger came, and to make the way clear for him if I could. 
 But this morning I received a note from Roger, brought 
 by a boy from Bolton. In this he told me that after he 
 had left me he had changed his mind and had determined 
 to go to Bald Hill to see you. He went there ; he did not 
 see any of the family; but he learned that you and Mr. 
 Surrey were at Heatherley. To this he added nothing 
 except that he had gone home ; and had started from there 
 
ARDIS CLAVRRDEN. l8l 
 
 on a long journey, on which it would be useless for any 
 one to follow him. This note was such a cool and dis- 
 passionate one, that it troubled me more than if he had 
 raved a little. He even said that he was sorry that he had 
 forgotten to leave orders that my horse should be brought 
 back to me! As soon as I read the note I started for his 
 house and 1 am very glad I met you." 
 
 Ardis said nothing ; she was looking on the ground and 
 thinking. Her thoughts all merged into one overpower- 
 ing regret. If Roger had only come to his home last 
 evening he would have seen her! No matter where he 
 had come from ; straight from Bolton ; from the doctor's 
 house ; or even after the statement he had heard at Bald 
 Hill, he would have seen her and everything could have 
 been said. When he had heard that she and Surrey were 
 away together, his heart must have been crushed. The 
 bitter conviction must have come upon him that without 
 doubt he had lost her; that without doubt she had de- 
 ceived him. 
 
 But he had not come home until the middle of the 
 night ; and then he had gone forth again, seeing nobody, 
 knowing nothing, and passing within a few feet of where 
 she was thinking and dreaming of him ! Going with his 
 heart full of despair upon a journey where it was useless 
 for any one to follow him! 
 
 Suddenly she turned toward her companion. " Dr. 
 Lester," said she, " you must think a great deal of Roger 
 Dunworth to do so much for him." 
 
 " I do think very much of him," he quietly answered, 
 gazing steadfastly before him at the far-away hills. 
 
 Ardis looked at him for a moment. " Dr. Lester, she 
 said, "you don't know what a friend you have been!" 
 And with a heart full of tender thankfulness, she half -rose, 
 leaned toward him, and kissed him. 
 
1 82 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 The tenacity of life possessed by human hope is truly 
 amazing. It can scarcely be said that the hope which 
 had been born of this man's love for Ardis had ever truly 
 lived. It had never been anything but a half-formed 
 weakling. He had honestly believed it dead. But now, 
 as he felt the touch of those lips, that hope sprang in an 
 instant into full life and vigor, and stood before him in 
 exultant majesty. His eyes sparkled, his face shone as 
 though a sudden blaze had sprung into existence within 
 him. But the next instant the light vanished and hope 
 fell dead before him, cold, shrivelled, and never to rise 
 again. That kiss had called it into life only to give it its 
 death-stroke. 
 
 " Good-by, doctor," ea : d Ardis, rising; " I must go on 
 now, and I am sure you will let us know if you hear any- 
 thing more of Mr. Dunworth." 
 
 The soul of Ardis was deeply stirred, but she could not 
 speak of the disquiet within her. Indeed, she had not 
 fully made plain to herself its full force and meaning. 
 
 The doctor arose, untied her horse, and helped her to 
 the saddle. Then he bade her good-by, and she rode 
 away. 
 
 He did not look after her, but slowly walked back to 
 the log and sat down. Now he knew himself as he had 
 not known himself before. That kiss from Ardis had 
 shown him what he truly was. He was an elderly friend 
 of the family. 
 
 Given to him thus freely and spontaneously in gratitude 
 for what he had done for the man she loved, it was the 
 same kiss, in its true meaning, as those she had given him 
 when a little girl in gratitude for a handful of nuts or a 
 cunningly carved toy. 
 
 This kiss from Ardis Claverden could have but one 
 significance ; he was as much older now than she as he 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 183 
 
 had been when she was a little girl. If this fact had not 
 before fully impressed him ; if he had allowed himself to 
 think that while her years went on his stood still ; the fact 
 had impressed her, and she had not thought as he had 
 thought. 
 
 He rose to his feet. He was not a more elderly man 
 than when he had sat down with Ardis upon that log ; nor 
 had his position with regard to her changed. But now a 
 kiss had stamped his age upon him, and had shown him 
 where he stood. 
 / . Hejvalked slowly home, forgetting all about his horse. 
 
1 84 ARDIS CLAVEKDEN. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 WHEN Ardis reached Heatherley she found Norma 
 Cranton in an animated mood. Though strongly 
 desirous of knowing what had happened to Ardis since 
 she had left the day before, she was still more desirous 
 to tell what had happened to her, and began immediately : 
 " I had a fine time yesterday," she said, " with two of 
 your lovers. First came Mr. Egbert Dalrymple, and much 
 fretted was he not to find you here. He said he would 
 wait until your return, and wait he did, stalking solemnly 
 up and down the parlor, and now and then dropping down 
 upon the piano stool and touching off little bits of tribu- 
 lation on the keys. As he showed plainly that he had not 
 come to see me, and as I was very busy, I left him to him- 
 self. But as I was passing through the parlor in a great 
 hurry with my key basket in my hand, and with two women 
 down-stairs who could do nothing until I went back, and 
 a man from Bolton at the back door who had been wait- 
 ing half an hour to see me about apples, your Mr. Dal- 
 rymple, who was leaning against the mantel-piece with his 
 arms folded and his eyes fixed upon a spot in the carpet, 
 made last year by a popping cinder, stopped me short, 
 with a question. ' Miss Cranton,' said he, ' what is your 
 opinion regarding the condition or status of the human 
 soul immediately after death?' Now, what do you think 
 of such a man? To stop a housekeeper at her very busi- 
 est time and ask her a question like that! I looked at him 
 for a moment, and then I said: 'If we can get our souls 
 into the proper condition before death, we shall have done 
 
AKDIS CLAVERDEN. 185 
 
 all that can be expected of us. What follows will take 
 care of itself.' 'So?' said he, lifting his eyebrows. And 
 with that I left him. And no sooner had I got through 
 with the apple-man than up rides your Mr. Surrey. He 
 also said he would wait until you came back. It was 
 enough to make a cat laugh ! 
 
 " ' There is another gentleman waiting for her in the 
 parlor,' said I, ' so of course, his turn comes first, and it 
 may be a good while before you see her.' He asked who 
 the other gentleman was, and when I told him, he smiled, 
 and said he could afford to wait as long as was necessary. 
 So he tied his horse, but he did not go into the parlor ; 
 and when I had finished the quinces I came out and 
 found him on the piazza., comfortably smoking a cigar. He 
 stopped me with a question, too, but it was no stuff and 
 nonsense about souls. You know I never did have any 
 use for Mr. Surrey, but I must say that, taking him right 
 after Mr. Dalrymple, he showed to advantage. I wouldn't 
 have expected it of him, but he really takes a good deal 
 of interest in desiccated apples and all sorts of farm 
 matters. And he knows a good deal, too, which also sur- 
 prised me. We were still talking together when Mr. 
 Dalrymple came out. He nodded to Mr. Surrey as if his 
 head had been a loose handle to a carving fork. 
 
 " ' I shall not remain longer,' he said. And he bade 
 me a stiff good-morning. But when he was half-way 
 down the steps he suddenly stopped and turned. ' Will 
 you kindly tell Miss Claverden,' said he, ' that I shall call 
 to-morrow morning about ten o'clock to invite her to drive 
 with me?' And with this he departed." 
 
 " It is long after ten o'clock now," said Ardis. 
 
 "Oh! he has been and gone," Norma returned. "He 
 did not wait a minute when he found you were not here. 
 I think it likely he has gone to Bald Hill. Mr. Surrey 
 
1 86 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 laughed a little at the young man after he left yesterday, 
 and then he told me that he was of a different sort, and 
 that if it would not put me to any inconvenience he would 
 remain until you returned. He said he would be obliged 
 to go North this morning, and he did not wish to go with- 
 out taking leave of you. Of course I could not help his 
 staying, and he stayed to dinner. And I must say that 
 even father, who does not like strangers, said to me that 
 he thought Mr. Surrey a very agreeable gentleman. 
 
 " I had a private notion that you had ridden over to 
 Bald Hill, and finding Mr. Surrey away had stayed there 
 to dinner ; but I was beginning to be worried about you 
 when your note came. Then I felt all right. I told Mr. 
 Surrey that you were visiting Miss Airpenny, and that on 
 account of the weather you would stay there all night. I 
 am sure if he had known how near you were he would 
 have gone to you ; but he must have taken it for granted 
 that you were at Quantrill's where he knew Miss Airpenny 
 lived; and as that is nine miles from here he could not 
 expect to get there before bed-time, even if he knew the 
 roads. At any rate he said nothing about it, and he 
 stayed until long after there was any reason to suppose 
 you would come back; and I could see that he really 
 hated to go away without seeing you. I almost pitied 
 him." 
 
 "There was no reason whatever to pity him," said 
 Ardis, " and I am greatly obliged to you for not telling 
 him where I was. I want very much to go back to father, 
 but I shall not go near Bald Hill until I know for certain 
 that Mr. Surrey has left for the North." 
 
 " I will send over to Bald Hill this afternoon to find out 
 how matters are," said Norma. " And now tell me if you 
 have heard anything about Roger Dunworth." 
 
 " Yes," said Ardis. " He came home last night after 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 187 
 
 everybody had gone to bed, and he went away this morn- 
 ing before anybody was up. No one in the family saw 
 him, and though he left a note for Mr. Parchester he did 
 not say where he was going." 
 
 " He has gone to stay away/' said Norma, " because he 
 will not live in this part of the world without you. I 
 don't know whether you have refused him or whether he 
 has given up in despair on account of your other admirers, 
 but I have been certain all along that it was on your 
 account he went away." 
 
 Norma waited a few moments to receive some sort of 
 answer from her companion, but none came, and then she 
 added: " Don't you think, when you put it to yourself, 
 that you are at the bottom of Roger Dunworth's trouble? " 
 
 " Oh, yes," said Ardis. 
 
 At this moment Ardis was glad that the conversation 
 was ended by the entrance of a servant with a summons 
 for Norma. If she had taken anybody into her confidence 
 it would have been Norma Cranton, but she was not ready 
 to make confidences. 
 
 After dinner a messenger sent to Bald Hill by Norma 
 brought news that Mr. Surrey had departed for the North, 
 and although Norma insisted that for the sake of appear- 
 ances, if for nothing else, her friend should remain with 
 her a little longer, the sun was still high up in the sky 
 when Ardis sprang from the saddle of her mare Janet into 
 the arms of her father. 
 
1 88 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 r PWO weeks had passed since Ardis Claverden's return 
 1 to Bald Hill. It was now the middle of October. 
 The sunshine was yet warm and cheery, but the morn- 
 ings and evenings were growing cool and frosty. The 
 house was lively, for General Tredner and ex-Governor 
 Upton, old friends of Major Claverden, were there on a 
 visit of indefinite length. Dr. Lester was a frequent 
 member of this group of good fellows; Mr. Dalrymple 
 was an almost daily visitor sometimes seeing Ardis, and 
 sometimes going away disappointed ; Tom Prouter drove 
 up in his dog-cart whenever his lacteal duties gave him 
 an excuse to come this way; and even Parchester, Skitt, 
 and Cruppledean occasionally smoked a pipe in the com- 
 pany of the master of Bald Hill. 
 
 Twice Norma Cranton spent a few hours with Ardis, but 
 she found her very quiet and uncommunicative; and 
 knowing her friend to be one who chafed under question- 
 ing, she prudently avoided making inquiries in regard to 
 the Dunworth affair, feeling sure that when Ardis saw fit 
 to make confidences she would be the one to whom they 
 would be made. It was not a lack of desire of knowledge 
 of such matters that enabled Norma to act thus prudently. 
 The fact was that in her own mind she had already settled 
 the whole matter. Disappointed love had driven Roger 
 Dunworth away. If Ardis should ever give him encour- 
 agement to do so he would come back and marry her. If 
 this should not happen, he would probably give up his 
 farm to his younger brother Henry, who was now living 
 in Kentucky, and establish himself on a cattle ranch in 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 189 
 
 Texas. If she knew anything of Dimworth blood, it would 
 never permit Roger to settle himself for life in this neigh- 
 borhood as a disappointed bachelor, or as the husband of 
 any woman but the one whom, as everybody knew, he 
 had loved for so many years. 
 
 It was not so easy for Ardis to bring her mind to a sat- 
 isfactory conclusion in regard to this affair, in which she 
 was so deeply concerned. She went to work in her studio, 
 but art just now did not interest her, and the crackling 
 wood fire which Uncle Shad would build up for her did 
 not seem to prevent her fingers from getting cold and stiff. 
 There were plenty of people to talk ti>, but their talk was 
 not of the kind to which she cared to listen. So she 
 painted a little, conversed a little, and thought much. 
 
 Her thoughts were nearly always upon two persons ; 
 Roger Dunworth and herself. With Roger she was not 
 well satisfied. It was true that he loved her ; there could 
 be no doubt of that ; but he had not treated her well. 
 He had no right to go away and keep away, carrying with 
 him such a dreadful mistake concerning Mr. Surrey and 
 herself. He should have come to her boldly; he should 
 not have been willing to trust anything but her own words 
 in regard to such a thing as this. But, on the other hand, 
 perhaps it was too much to expect of any man to doubt 
 his own conclusions after such apparent evidence had 
 come to him as had come to Roger. It was very hard for 
 her to decide whether or not his conduct was to be justified. 
 
 But in regard to herself, she was able to come to a de- 
 cision, and before the middle of the month she determined 
 that she ought honestly and candidly to acknowledge to 
 herself that she was in love with Roger Dunworth. This 
 conclusion was not entirely pleasing to her, and at first 
 she felt inclined to rebel against it ; but she saw that fair 
 play to herself demanded that she should admit the fact. 
 
190 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 Were this not so, it would not trouble her by night and 
 by day to think of the mistake under which Roger had 
 gone away; were it not so, her mind would not be filled 
 with doubts as to his coming back or as to what he might 
 think in such and such a case. She knew that it was not 
 only an old friend and neighbor who had gone away; she 
 knew it was not only her lover who had gone away ; she 
 knew it was the man she loved. 
 
 When Ardis became fully aware of the position in which 
 she stood her spirits rose. She was a girl to whom action 
 was true life. But the fact that the nature of the case 
 and its peculiar circumstances debarred her from present 
 action did not in the least discourage her. She felt that 
 she was ready to act when the time came, and this feeling 
 gave courage to her spirits and brightness to her eyes, but 
 the reason for this feeling went deep down into her soul 
 and made a new being of her. 
 
 That Ardis had become a different woman since their 
 arrival at Bald Hill did not dawn upon the minds of the 
 general and the ex-governor; Egbert Dalrymple, when 
 he had the pleasure of spending a half-hour with her, 
 noticed no change in her; Tom Prouter came to the con- 
 clusion that she was growing handsomer every day, but 
 he had thought that ever since he had known her; and 
 when her father said to himself as he looked at her that 
 there never was such a grand combination as that of Ardis 
 and Claverden blood, he was aware of no reason why he 
 should think so more frequently than ever before. It 
 was only Dr. Lester who knew. 
 
 An avalanche upon the grave of a dead thing cannot 
 make that thing more dead. The grave in which lay the 
 dead hopes of this quiet gentleman was unmarked by 
 mound or stone, and it was of slight import how deeply 
 it was covered out of sight. 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 191 
 
 Toward the end of October, Dr. Lester came one day 
 to Bald Hill, and taking Ardis aside, told her that he had 
 had a letter from Roger Dunworth. 
 
 " It is not much of a letter," he said, " and gives no clue 
 to his present whereabouts. It was written more than a 
 week ago at Hickory Hollow, a village in Northern 
 Georgia, and merely asks me to attend to some business 
 for him. I think he is making an equestrian excursion 
 through that country, in which I know he is interested. 
 If I were you," added the doctor, speaking very gently, 
 " I would not allow myself anxiety about Roger. I should 
 not be surprised if he were to return home twenty pounds 
 heavier than when he left us. A tall fellow, such as he 
 is, can well stand that." 
 
 " So you think I need not be worried about him? " she 
 said. 
 
 " Yes," answered Dr. Lester. " There is no reason to 
 doubt that he is in good health, and I believe that when 
 travel through an interesting country has restored his mind 
 to something of its normal tone he will return, resolved, 
 if necessary, to bear the worst. Once here, I have no fear 
 but that everything will be right." 
 
 There came a slight smile upon the face of Ardis. 
 " You think everything will be right? " 
 
 " Yes," said the doctor, " I think everything will be right." 
 
 The doctor stepped to the window. Then he came 
 back and said: " I shall do my best to get a letter to him. 
 I shall address him at Hickory Hollow, and request that 
 the letter be forwarded from place to place. This may 
 avail nothing, but I shall try it." 
 
 " Thank you," said Ardis. And she gave him her hand. 
 
 "What!" exclaimed Major Claverden, as he entered 
 the room, " you don't mean, doctor, that you are taking 
 leave of us at this time of day ! You must stay to dinner 1 " 
 
192 ARDIS CLAVERDEN; 
 
 Dr. Lester had intended to take dinner at Bald Hill, 
 to which hospitable house he was always privileged to 
 invite himself. But as he believed that Miss Ardis would 
 not wish her father to suppose that the hand-shaking be- 
 tween them meant any more than leave taking, he said 
 that he must go, having letters to write which must be 
 dispatched that afternoon. 
 
 As he jogged homeward on his cream-colored horse, 
 Dr. Lester's mind was not in that condition of freedom 
 from anxiety which he had endeavored to produce in Ardis. 
 He was greatly worried about Roger Dunworth. He 
 believed all that he had told Ardis, but he had not seen 
 fit to tell her that he feared that it would be a long time 
 before the young man would be content to return home 
 and face the worst. The tone of the letter he had re- 
 ceived which he had not taken to Bald Hill impressed 
 upon him the fact that Roger had gone away to stay for 
 a long time. Had the letter been of a more emotional 
 character the doctor could have hoped ; but its practical 
 nature indicated a fixed purpose which troubled him. 
 
 "Dr. Lester was a man eminently adapted to attend to 
 other people's business, and he found no difficulty in 
 allaying the apprehensions of Mr. Dunworth's neighbors 
 in regard to his absence. Having heard from him on 
 business, he spoke as his agent, and however much people 
 might conjecture and criticise when they spoke of Dun- 
 worth's absence, they saw no reason for anxiety. 
 
 As the doctor was sitting writing that afternoon, with 
 his table drawn near to a fire of remarkably crooked sticks, 
 Bonetti came in. 
 
 " Evenin', doctor," said the visitor, walking up to the 
 fire and spreading his hands over it, for the day was cloudy 
 and the outside air cool. "Are you writing to Miss 
 Ardis?" 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 193 
 
 The doctor put down his pen and arose from the table. 
 He stepped to the mantel-piece, took from it a short 
 brier-wood pipe, and proceeded to fill it from a tobacco- 
 jar near by. " Bonnet," said he, as he pressed the tobacco 
 into the bowl with his forefinger, " the time has come to 
 drop that." 
 
 " Do you mean to say," exclaimed Bonetti, his face 
 lighting with interest, "that you have spoken to her? " 
 
 " Drop it! " said the doctor. 
 
 "No more supposin's?" asked the other. "No more 
 lookin' at it in this way and in t'other way? " 
 
 " Drop it! " said the doctor. 
 
 "Well, upon my word!" said Bonetti. "I never did 
 think that you, yourself, would be able to drop it ! " 
 
 " It is to be dropped," said the doctor, " individually 
 and collectively. There is another pipe there." 
 
 Bonetti took the pipe and proceeded to fill it. " Of 
 course I'll drop it, if you say so," said he, "but it's like 
 rootin' up a black gum saplin' ; it's hard to do. That's 
 a thing you and me has talked about for a long time, 
 doctor." 
 
 "And which is to be dropped now," said Dr. Lester, as 
 he puffed gently at his pipe. 
 
 Bonetti also stood and puffed. A blank had suddenly 
 come into his life. No more could he join with his fellow- 
 philosophizer in suppositions regarding what might happen 
 to Dr. Lester, if Miss Ardis should do this or that. No 
 longer could he coolly study the phases of this peculiar 
 attachment. Something had happened, and the subject 
 must be dropped. So far as words were concerned, 
 Bonetti dropped it ; but for days his mind was filled with 
 conjectures as to the thing which had happened. But 
 although he was an adept at conjecturing, he never con- 
 jectured what a kiss had done for Dr. Lester. 
 
1 94 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 IT was at the end of the last week in October that Mr. 
 Egbert Dalrymple came riding down the road which 
 passed the Bald Hill gate at the same time that Tom 
 Prouter came driving up the road in his dog-cart. The 
 young Englishman saw the horseman from afar, and feel- 
 ing sure that he intended to turn in to Bald Hill, Prouter 
 whipped up and got first to the gate. This was open, 
 and he rattled triumphantly up the lane. He knew who 
 it was that Dalrymple was coming to see ; and although he 
 himself had come there to consult the major in regard to 
 the wintering of cows, he resolved to be first at the house. 
 He bounced from his dog-cart and hurried up the steps ; 
 but his knock was not immediately answered, and by the 
 time the door was opened Egbert Dalrymple stood near 
 him. 
 
 Prouter did not take the time to salute the other, but 
 immediately inquired of the servant if Miss Claverden 
 was at home. Cows and the major had passed out of his 
 mind. 
 
 The servant replied that the lady was not at home ; and 
 at this moment Major Claverden came out of the library, 
 having overheard the colloquy. 
 
 " Walk in, gentlemen ! walk in ! " he said, shaking hands 
 with each of them. And he ushered them into the spacious 
 room where the general was seated in an easy-chair re- 
 freshing himself after a morning walk over the farm. 
 
 Egbert Dalrymple bowed to the gentleman, to whom he 
 was introduced; but he did not sit down. "I under- 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 195 
 
 stand," he said to the major, "that your daughter is not 
 at home. May I ask when she may be expected to re- 
 turn?" 
 
 "I wish I knew! I wish I knew! " said the major, rub- 
 bing his hands, and smiling good-humoredly. " It would 
 take a prophet to tell us that. She went yesterday to 
 New York in company with Governor Upton, to visit 
 some friends there ; and when Bald Hill will see her again, 
 I am sure I do not know." 
 
 Mr. Dalrymple stepped back. His brow contracted, 
 his face darkened. " So ! " he exclaimed. 
 
 " I beg you will take a seat, sir," said the major, who 
 would not sit down while a guest was standing. 
 
 Mr. Dalrymple paid no attention to his invitation. 
 
 " For several years," continued the major, " my daughter 
 has spent part of the winter either in Washington or in 
 New York. It is too much to expect of one of her age 
 and tastes to be satisfied to spend the season of bad 
 weather shut up here in the country, with no one but us 
 old fellows or even you young fellows for company. 
 But I always expect to have her here for Christmas." 
 
 "And like a dutiful daughter, sir," said the general, 
 "I presume she is always here? " 
 
 "Oh, yes," was the reply. "We generally get as 
 many young people here as possible for the holidays, and 
 we have a jolly time! " 
 
 " There can be no doubt of that, sir," said the deep- 
 voiced general, with another sip at his glass. 
 
 Mr. Dalrymple now took two steps forward, and stood, 
 his right leg slightly advanced, his left hand on the back 
 of a chair, his right hand thrust into the breast of his 
 buttoned coat, and upon his countenance a sombre hue 
 such as sometimes comes over the sky just before the 
 storm wind has determined in what direction it will sweep 
 
196 ARDIS CLAVRRDEN. 
 
 everything before it. " Sir," said he, in a tone of quiet 
 incision like the first premonitory whistle from the north, 
 " will you kindly give me Miss Claverden's address in New 
 York?" 
 
 The major could not repress a short laugh. "Oho! " 
 he said. "That sort of business is entirely out of my 
 bailiwick. When my daughter wishes any one to have her 
 address she gives it I never do. The augmentation of 
 the correspondence of a young lady is a very serious thing, 
 sir. And now I wish you would take a seat and have a 
 glass of our morning toddy. It is very gentle, I can 
 assure you." 
 
 Mr. Dalrymple drew himself up to his full height. 
 "So!" he ejaculated. Then with a few long, graceful, 
 side-long steps he reached the door, where, turning, he 
 made a low bow, which included all the company. Then 
 he rapidly left the house. On the lawn he found his horse, 
 which he had left to its own control, quietly grazing, with 
 a little negro boy holding the bridle. Advancing to the 
 side of the animal, he stood for a moment gazing upon the 
 ground. Then suddenly extending his right arm upward 
 into the air, he exclaimed: "So!" And, mounting, he 
 rode away. 
 
 The negro boy stood for a moment in astonishment. 
 Then he extended his right arm, his torn and dirty shirt 
 sleeve fluttering from his elbow, and exclaimed: " Jist so! 
 Nex' time I hole your hoss, mister, I reckon you'll give 
 me a copper fust." . 
 
 Egbert Dalrymple had come to Bald Hill that morning 
 with a purpose. It was a purpose born of a sudden in- 
 spiration. It had come upon him like a flash that this 
 was the day, this the hour, to unveil before the eyes of 
 Ardis Claverden that peerless , creation of passionate 
 adoration which had grown up within him. Fate had 
 
ARD1S CLAVERDEN. 197 
 
 postponed the ceremony. But he snapped his fingers at 
 Fate. In his soul the roar of the storm wind had already 
 begun. 
 
 Tom Prouter had also come to Bald Hill with a pur- 
 pose. It had been shadowy and undefined, with agricul- 
 tural sticks and straws showing here and there, but the 
 moment he had seen Egbert Dalrymple coming down the 
 road, this vague purpose had crystallized into a firm re- 
 solve to reach Bald Hill before the other fellow got there, 
 and to be the first to see Miss Claverden. Of what he 
 should say to her when he saw her he had had no thought. 
 If he unveiled anything it would probably be the difficul- 
 ties surrounding his milk route. But he was bound to get 
 there before Dalrymple. 
 
 When he first entered the library Prouter had taken a 
 seat and a proffered glass of toddy. And now, although 
 disappointed that Miss Claverden was away, it comforted 
 him to think that the Dalrymple dude was no better off 
 than he was, and he resigned himself to the pleasure of 
 his surroundings, and accepted the major's invitation to 
 stay to dinner. 
 
 Ardis' determination to go to New York had been 
 arrived at rather suddenly. After Dr. Lester's latest 
 communication regarding Roger Dunworth she had felt a 
 desire to leave Bald Hill for a time. Generally she much 
 enjoyed autumn in the country, but the season seemed a 
 different one this year. Nature did not interest her. If 
 Roger were really travelling about an interesting country 
 and endeavoring to get his mind into a normal state, she 
 would go to some place which would interest her and get 
 her mind into a normal state. If she were away from 
 Bald Hill this too-passionate young man might sooner re- 
 turn to his home, and at all events she preferred to be 
 away when he came back. 
 
198 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 For years she had had a standing invitation from two 
 friends in New York to make them a long visit ; but 
 social demands upon her time when in New York had 
 never allowed her to stay with these friends. Now she 
 determined to go to them. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Chiverley were artists. With them Ardis 
 knew she could live a life which would interest her. Her 
 decision to visit these friends was made promptly enough, 
 but she would not have acted upon it so soon had not the 
 ex-governor found it necessary to make a trip to New 
 York, and the opportunity of his escort was a very desir- 
 able one. She wrote to her friends that she would come 
 to them unless she received a telegram that it would not 
 be convenient ; and when the ex-governor was ready to 
 start, she was ready also. 
 
 She did not do much in the way of leave-taking. She 
 galloped over to Heatherley, and in the course of her half- 
 hour conversation with Norma the latter bluntly asked 
 her: "And what are you going to do about Roger Dun- 
 worth?" 
 
 Ardis smiled. " When he comes back," she said, " and 
 I come back " 
 
 "You will give him a good scolding." struck in Norma, 
 " and then marry him." 
 
 " It is such a comfort," said Ardis, " to have people 
 answer their own questions! And now, good-by." 
 
 Dr. Lester was at the house the evening before Ardis 
 left for the North, and she found an opportunity to say to 
 him that she hoped he would write to her when he heard 
 from Roger Dunworth. The doctor declared that he 
 would most certainly write whenever he heard anything, 
 and hoped he might always write good news. 
 
 " You must remember, doctor, you are the only one who 
 knows that I desire to hear from Roger." 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 199 
 
 The doctor assured her that he remembered, and that 
 he was very proud and glad that both she and Roger had 
 trusted in him as they had done. 
 
 "You are such a true friend," said Ardis, "that neither 
 of us could help trusting you." 
 
 The expression "neither of us" came upon the doctor 
 with a little shock, but the effect was only momentary. 
 For some years he had considered a union between Ardis 
 Claverden and Roger Dunworth as an event which in all 
 probability would occur, and which would be satisfac- 
 tory in the highest degree to the young people and to all 
 their friends. But events which we expect have often an 
 unexpected effect upon us when they happen. 
 
 " My dear child," said Major Claverden to his daughter 
 the next morning, as she stood before him in her travelling 
 suit, " I hope you may thoroughly enjoy yourself with 
 your friends and your art ; but you must not let any of 
 those young fellows of the North take you away from me. 
 You know that I have the strongest reliance on your 
 judgment in regard to such things, but when I see before 
 me even the dimmest vision of the son-in-law taken from 
 a land of strangers I must have a word to say about it." 
 
 " Father," said Ardis, " if you want to be comfortable 
 in your mind, please keep on trusting me in this matter." 
 Then she looked up at the clock. "There are seven 
 minutes yet," she said, " before we need start, and in that 
 time I want to put a question to you. Supposing I were 
 to ask you to choose a husband for me : do you know of 
 any one whom you would be willing to recommend? " 
 
 "Husbands be hanged!" said the major. "I don't 
 want you to be thinking of them! But yet, I suppose the 
 thing can't be helped. Well, then, if you were to put the 
 matter into my hands, I should say without any hesitation 
 whatever: * Here is Roger Dunworth, take him, your old 
 
200 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 play-fellow, your friend and your neighbor, the son of my 
 old play-fellow, my friend and my neighbor. Nothing 
 could be better than that for him, for you, and for me.' 
 Now I have squarely answered your question, have I not? " 
 
 " Nothing could be squarer," said Ardis, " and here is 
 Governor Upton, promptly on time." 
 
 " Good-by, Bald Hill," cried Ardis a few minutes after- 
 ward, as she waved her hand from the family carriage, in 
 which she and the ex-governor, with her father and the 
 general to see them off, were being whirled away to town. 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 2 oi 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 IT has been said that Mr. and Mrs. Chiverley were 
 artists; and it may be added that they were poor 
 artists. It must not be supposed, however, that this re- 
 mark is intended to indicate a want of artistic merit in 
 the Chiverleys; it applies principally to their lack of 
 money, and also, in a certain degree, to their want of 
 merit. But in this sense their friends agreed that the re- 
 mark should be made in much gentleness and charity, and 
 not before everybody. The Chiverleys were most excel- 
 lent and lovable people ; and although it was easy enough 
 to see that with more artistic merit they would have had 
 more money, their friends, none of whom were picture 
 buyers, did not allow this fact to interfere in the least with 
 the high estimation in which they held these two good 
 people. 
 
 The trouble with Harry Chiverley was that he had 
 nothing in himself which he could put into his work. He 
 could copy what he could see, but if he could not see 
 what he wanted to paint, he had no mental power which 
 would bring that thing before him, or to transform what 
 he saw into what it ought to be. He painted industriously, 
 but as he himself sometimes admitted, his pictures were 
 as hard to look upon as they were to sell. 
 
 "What that painting wants," his wife would say, "is 
 vim, snap, spirit, rattle, clatter, go ! " 
 
 " It is very likely^ you are right," Mr. Chiverley would 
 say, " and we must see if we cannot put some of those 
 things into the next picture." And to work he would go 
 
202 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 at the next picture, which would be sure to turn out very 
 much the same thing as the one painted before it. 
 
 The trouble with Mrs. Chiverley was that she did not 
 know how to paint. With her there was no lack of artistic 
 imagination. Her brain was full of pictures, which, if 
 they could have been transferred to the brain of her hus- 
 band, who did know how to paint, would have brought 
 fame and fortune. At one end of her brush was artistic 
 talent, almost genius ; at the other was a pigment mixed 
 with oil. But the one never ran down to the other. The 
 handle of the brush was a non-conductor. 
 
 Harry Chiverley had been a young man for a long time, 
 and he was now beginning to be a young middle-aged 
 man, but there was no sign of even the very earliest 
 middle-age in that charming woman, his wife. He had a 
 thorough knowledge of the principles and methods of art, 
 and was an excellent teacher. It was by his scholars that 
 they lived. But he had plenty of time to paint, and worked 
 indefatigably at his easel. Sometimes a picture was dis- 
 posed of, but this did not happen often, and was always 
 the occasion of a special Thanksgiving Day. If he had 
 painted better he would have had more scholars and less 
 time to paint, but for a good many years he had shown no 
 sign of improvement except in manual and technical skill. 
 " Vim, rattle, snap, go," never came. 
 
 Mr. Chiverley and his wife had passed two summers 
 at Bolton, where Ardis had been one of their pupils. Of 
 course they had experienced the extended hospitality of 
 Bald Hill and well knew the genial character of the major. 
 But this year the Chiverleys had not been in the country 
 at all. The winter had been a hard one with them. Mr. 
 Chiverley had painted a great deal and taught but little ; 
 with him the scholar crop had been a short one. As the 
 spring came on their affairs did not improve ; and it be- 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 203 
 
 came plain enough to both of them that they could not 
 retain their studio, and also go into the country. 
 
 " In this case," said Mrs. Chiverley, " we can have no 
 difficulty in deciding what to do. The studio is a neces- 
 sity, the country is a luxury." 
 
 "Not altogether, my dear," said her husband, "for it is 
 in the country that I make most of my studies." 
 
 " Still I am inclined to think it is a luxury," she said. 
 
 The Chiverleys were very fond of their studio. Like 
 many other studios, it was a large room in the upper part 
 of a great building. It had an excellent north window. 
 If Harry Chiverley gave up that north window he did not 
 know where he would ever get another like it. Opening 
 from this room was a small one in which they slept, and 
 there was also a dark room in which they cooked and kept 
 their stores, their trunks, and all their rubbish. They ate 
 in one corner of their studio, and in another corner which 
 had been screened off to serve for a model-room, but 
 which had seldom been used for that purpose, was occa- 
 sionally made to serve for a guest-chamber. 
 
 The studio was not furnished with the tapestries, the 
 bric-a-brac, the armor, and the various artistic adornments 
 which are usually found in studios. The walls were pretty 
 well covered with Mr. Chiverley's pictures, without frames, 
 and there were some hangings and pieces of furniture 
 which did not cost much and looked well. But against 
 the wall, opposite the north window, stood a possession of 
 which they were justly proud. This was a tall, antique 
 clock which some years before Mr. Chiverley had found 
 in a highly dilapidated condition in a bric-a-brac shop, and 
 had bought for a moderate sum. He was in many ways 
 an ingenious and dexterous man, and with his own hands 
 he put the clock into excellent condition. He cleaned 
 and oiled the works, hung the weights with new cords, and 
 
204 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 made it able to tick out time as steadfastly as in the days 
 of its youth. All damages to the massive wooden case 
 were carefully repaired ; the brass-work was cleaned and 
 polished, and for days upon days he and his wife labored 
 with enthusiasm upon the tall structure, scraping, varnish- 
 ing, and polishing, bringing out the grain of the wood and 
 restoring the tone and color, until the clock stood up 
 proudly like an ancient piece of furniture in perfect pre- 
 servation, with color enriched and mellowed by every hour 
 whose passage it had chroniced, and not sleek and shining as 
 if it had been furbished at the shop of a furniture dealer. 
 
 It was not only a clock which was good to look upon, 
 but it was one which could be depended upon. By daily 
 comparison between it and a chronometer in a watch- 
 maker's window below, Mr. Chiverley regulated it into a 
 condition of truthfulness where it had but few rivals among 
 its antique brethren. It had not been long after the clock 
 had been set going that one night when they had gone to 
 bed, and the lights were out, and the clock had struck the 
 hour, Harry Chiverley said to his wife as the deep, delib- 
 erate tones came in to them from the shadows of the 
 studio : " Doesn't it make you happy to think we have a 
 clock like that? He is like a third member of the family; 
 just as much alive as either of us ; a true friend, who stays 
 awake all night, telling us the hour and the half-hour, 
 whether we are asleep, or not ; and ready even then to 
 inform us about the tides and the moon if we choose to 
 light a candle and go look at him." 
 
 " Never in my life," said Mrs. Chiverley, " have I had 
 a desire to know about the tides, or the moon either, 
 strong enough to make me get out of my bed and look at 
 the clock. But is is wonderfully companionable to have 
 him speak to us when we are lying awake in the darkness 
 of the night." 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 205 
 
 " Or at any other time," said her husband. " I think it 
 is delightful for him to tell us the time to stop work, and 
 to get ready for luncheon or dinner. Indeed, I truly be- 
 lieve," he added, " that if there should happen to be no 
 luncheon or dinner for us, it would be a compensation to 
 have him tell us that the time for the meal had come. It 
 would make us feel better to know that he had done his 
 part and was all right, no matter what else had hap- 
 pened." 
 
 " I think it would be quite the other way," said Mrs. 
 Chiverley; "but you must not imagine I intend to say a 
 single word against the clock." 
 
 Early in the summer in which our story opens it hap- 
 pened that the clock summoned the Chiverleys three times 
 a day to meals that were like breakfasts without forks. 
 After that meals became even more simple ; and, later, it 
 began to be doubtful in Mrs. Chiverley's mind whether or 
 not the clock, if it had a conscience-wheel anywhere 
 among its works, ought to strike at all at meal-times. 
 
 This state of affairs had continued for some weeks, 
 when one day a visitor came into the studio in search of 
 water-colors. He was a gentleman who had a good 
 knowledge of art, and but little money. He wanted some- 
 thing bright, effective, and cheap ; and he had been going 
 from studio to studio exciting budding hopes in the hearts 
 of poor artists, and then frost-biting them by leaving and 
 buying nothing. 
 
 Mr. Chiverley, with a cheerful alacrity which he en- 
 deavored not to make too strongly marked, exhibited to 
 the visitor the water-color sketches in his portfolio or 
 fastened against the wall. 
 
 In a corner of the room, in a good light, sat Mrs. Chiv- 
 erley on a high chair, her feet on the lower round. She 
 was busily painting on a very small landscape in which 
 
206 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 there were a good many houses. She thought it her duty 
 to give all her available time to painting, because it was 
 not right to be idle. She used small canvases because 
 they were cheaper, and she liked to put in houses because 
 they suggested more than trees or the ordinary features of 
 a landscape. Almost anything might be happening in 
 a house. 
 
 As the visitor, walked about the studio Mrs. Chiverley 
 did not look up from her work, nor speak ; but as she 
 assiduously touched a chimney in the same place with the 
 same color over and over again, she listened with all her 
 ears. When the gentleman stopped before a picture, 
 speaking of its good points with apparent appreciation 
 for Mr. Chiverley's pictures had good points her spirits 
 would rise, and her imagination would begin to play. 
 There arose before her in turn the vision of a receipted 
 landlord's bill ; of something really good for dinner ; of a 
 fresh credit opened at the artist's material shop; and 
 once, when the gentleman stopped before an oil-painting 
 for although she did not turn her head, she watched him 
 carefully from the corners of her eyes there came up be- 
 fore her a mental picture of a nook in the Adirondacks, 
 with mountain, stream, lake, forest, and clear blue sky, all 
 smiling with sunlit pleasure at being able to furnish such 
 beautiful back, middle and foregrounds to Mr. Chiverley. 
 
 But the gentleman found nothing which would suit him. 
 Mr. Chiverley had no bright little sketches, no dashes of 
 inspiration. His pictures were generally large and care- 
 fully finished, and although he would have gladly parted 
 with some of them for a very small price had it been 
 offered him, his visitor had a conscience and would not 
 offer a comparative trifle for a picture that was worth a 
 great deal more if it were worth anything. And if he paid 
 more than a comparative trifle, he would like something 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN-. 207 
 
 that pleased him better. Mr. Chiverley's work did not 
 attract him. 
 
 As he moved toward the door he stopped. " That is a 
 beautiful clock, sir,' 1 he said. " Now, that is a clock worth 
 having! " And he stood before it in silent admiration. 
 
 Mr. Chiverley turned toward the window and looked 
 out at the sky. " We don't deal in clocks," he said, " but 
 if that bit of old furniture pleases you " 
 
 Mrs. Chiverley still sat on the high chair with her feet 
 on the round, and in her hand she still held her brush ; 
 but the houses and the chimneys and the trees and the 
 little bushes were all getting mixed up in a sort of gray 
 mist. At this moment she spoke out clearly and firmly, 
 without turning her head. " That clock is not for sale," 
 she said. 
 
 The gentleman now bowed and took his leave, and Mr. 
 Chiverley accompanied him to the top of the stairs. In 
 a few moments he returned. His wife had stopped paint- 
 ing and had pushed back her chair. 
 
 " Were you saying anything more to him about the 
 clock?" she asked quickly. 
 
 " I merely asked him his address," said Mr. Chiverley 
 as he took his seat before his easel and commenced work. 
 " Some day we may have something which will suit him, 
 and we should always get the address of a possible cus- 
 tomer. And now, my dear, let us go bravely to work 
 again. I want you to come and sit for the head of this 
 peasant woman who is standing upon the bridge." 
 
 Mrs. Chiverley said "nothing, but went and took her 
 accustomed seat in the chair by her husband's easel. 
 When he turned toward her, the hand which held his 
 brush dropped upon his knee, and he sat up straight. Her 
 eyes were full of tears, and there was an expression upon 
 her face which never before had he seen there. It was 
 
208 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 the face of a lovely woman who had borne up courage- 
 ously against misfortune, but who now was on the point of 
 breaking down. Chiverley gazed at her steadfastly. She 
 did not notice that he was not working, and waited until 
 he should speak to her in regard to her position. 
 
 Harry Chiverley quietly arose. He took from his easel 
 his unfinished painting, and placed thereon a fresh canvas. 
 Then gently asking his wife to turn her face toward him, 
 he began to rapidly paint her head, life size. She looked 
 in his direction but did not see him. There were tears 
 upon her cheek, and she was about to wipe them away. 
 
 " Don't raise your hand, my dear," he said. " They do 
 not interfere in the least." 
 
 " Do you really think we shall have to sell the clock? " 
 she said, in a low voice a good deal broken. " It is one 
 of the family." 
 
 Now, as Harry Chiverley looked upon his wife, his feel- 
 ings had been wound up to such a pitch that he would 
 have sold one of his legs as willingly as that clock. His 
 heart beat fast and his brush moved quickly as he said: 
 " But you know, my dear, we must sell something or we 
 cannot live ! The clock is very dear to us. It is a real 
 and a true friend, but it is worth a good deal of money 
 and perhaps we ought to sell it." 
 
 This was the first really cruel thing that Harry Chiverley 
 had ever said to his wife, and it deepened the pain upon 
 her face, and brought more tears into her sorrowing, tender 
 eyes. Had she spoken she would have burst into weep- 
 ing. Harry Chiverley could never have imagined such 
 loveliness infused by grief; but he could paint it when he 
 saw it. And paint it he did ; faster, and with more earnest 
 fervor than ever before. She sat looking at him without 
 seeing him, and thinking he was painting the peasant 
 woman upon the bridge. Each moment it seemed as if 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 209 
 
 she would throw herself upon her husband's bosom and 
 weep her heart oat. It was not only the clock; it was 
 everything. She knew they had no right to anything! 
 
 Mr. Chiverley's eyes flashed from her to the canvas. 
 He painted faster than ever. Presently he sprang to his 
 feet. Without dropping his brush, his palette or his 
 maul-stick, he fell on his knees before his wife and folded 
 her in his arms. 
 
 "Darling!" he cried. "We shall not sell the clock! 
 We shall sell that picture ! " 
 
 " They never did buy them," sobbed his wife, her face 
 upon his shoulder. " There are already three of them 
 with the woman and the bridge." 
 
 "Angel! Exalted being!" he cried. "Queen of 
 clocks, studios, and the whole world! Look at that! " 
 pointing to his easel with his brush. " When I have put 
 in the hair and the drapery and the background, that will 
 be the picture which shall lift us out of every trouble." 
 
 " It is in enough trouble itself," she said, coming round 
 to the easel and wiping her eyes. " I do believe it is in- 
 tended for me! " 
 
 "Dearest!" exclaimed Mr. Chiverley, "I have traded 
 upon your sorrow. Out of your grief I shall bring you joy. 
 I never had such a model before ! That picture will sell! " 
 
 " Do you mean to say," she said, " that you spoke as 
 you did to make me look that way? " 
 
 " Not to make you look so," he answered, " only to keep 
 you so until I caught the angelic woe. And now," he 
 cried, as he sat down before the canvas, "for joy, peace, 
 rapture ! " 
 
 " Beef and butter," added his wife with a slight but 
 hopeful smile upon her face. She could see that if he did 
 not spoil it by working on it too much, this would be the 
 best picture her husband had ever painted. 
 14 
 
210 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 Until dusk of the long day Harry Chiverley painted, 
 and early the next morning, and all that day he was at 
 it again; and on the next day it was finished. He would 
 have liked to work a little more upon the face, but he was 
 afraid to do it without a model, and his wife earnestly en- 
 treated him not to touch it. As she looked upon her 
 face, shadowed by grief, but illumined by the faint light 
 of her expiring courage, she felt almost happy. This was 
 a good picture. If Mr. Chiverley could find models with 
 spirit, vim, snap, sparkle already in them he would suc- 
 ceed, but he could not supply these things himself. 
 
 This picture was very soon sold to a dealer for a 
 moderately good price, which, however, would have been 
 larger had the reputation of the artist been proportionate 
 to the merit of the picture. 
 
 "Angel of my heart!" cried Harry Chiverley as he 
 skipped around his studio, waving a check over his head. 
 " Happiness dawns! Joy blossoms! My true artistic career 
 has begun ! " 
 
 And, like the good, industrious man that he was, he sat 
 down to work at the woman on the bridge. 
 
 The meals of the Chiverley's now became regular 
 breakfasts, luncheons and dinners; the receipted land- 
 lord's bill was a reality, not a vision, and the clock spoke 
 out the hours and half-hours in a voice that assured them 
 he was there and intended to stay. 
 
 But, notwithstanding this improvement in their circum- 
 stances, the Chiverleys did not feel that they were able 
 to go into the country that summer. The past demanded 
 so much of their little horde that the future must be con- 
 tent with less than its proper share. They, therefore, 
 bravely made up their minds to stay in town and be as 
 happy as the thousands of other good people who had to 
 do the same thing. There was a fine circulation of air in 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 211 
 
 the studio when all the windows were open, and Mr. 
 Chiverley sat in this breezy coolness and painted from old 
 sketches and farm memory, landscapes which were like 
 fashion plates for the use of Dame Nalure ; if she wanted 
 to know the latest shapes in mountains, or the newest 
 autumnal colors in trees or reflections, there she had 
 them. 
 
 In these long summer days Mrs. Chiverley liked to 
 place her easel where she could look through their little 
 bed-chamber, and out of its open western window. Op- 
 posite this window, on the other side of the street, was a 
 large room at the top of a tall building in which men 
 worked in wood, apparently making boxes. At the back 
 of this room was a western window, and when this was 
 open Mrs. Chiverley could look straight through the shop, 
 and far, far away, she could catch a glimpse of the Pali- 
 sades and the New Jersey hills on the other side of the 
 Hudson. There she could see the dim outline of trees 
 against the sky, and it often pleased her to take little rests 
 and to lean back in her chair and let her fancy go out of 
 her chamber window and through the box maker's shop 
 to that far-off bit of real country. She knew that there 
 were pleasant shades beneath the trees, and that not far 
 away there must be a house, most likely a true little farm- 
 house, with great oaks about it, and white hens pecking 
 in the green grass ; and, beyond that, long, meadowy slopes 
 with gray fences and a winding lane which led into a 
 wood, where there was a stream and rocks and deeply- 
 shaded spots. From day to day these quiet scenes be- 
 came more real and familiar to her, until she could have 
 told you what kinds of wild flowers grew by the side of 
 the winding lane, and where you could find the pleasantest 
 rocks on which to sit and sketch. She was always sorry 
 when the sun got so far round to the west that one of the 
 
212 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 workmen pulled down the shade of the back window, 
 and shut out her summer day in the country. 
 
 The money for the sold picture had nearly ebbed 
 itself away, and the Chiverleys were again feeling very 
 poor, though still brave and cheery, when Ardis Claver- 
 den's letter came stating that she was about to pay them 
 a visit. 
 
 " There is something so oddly absurd in our having a 
 visitor at this time," said Mr. Chiverley, "that I feel in- 
 clined to laugh at it. But of course she must come. It 
 would go hard with me after reading that letter and re- 
 membering how we have been entertained at Bald Hill to 
 telegraph to her that we could not have her. But I do 
 wish that she had planned to visit us in palmier days." 
 
 " But we must not think of that," said Mrs. Chiverley, 
 " and if I were you I would go and telegraph to her that 
 we shall be too glad to have her." 
 
 " That will cost something," said her husband, " and it 
 is not really necessary." 
 
 "Don't think of that," she said. "It will be much 
 more cordial to let her hear that we expect her, than to 
 let her imagine so from not hearing." 
 
 " But what are we going to do with her? " said Mr. 
 Chiverley. 
 
 " We must settle that after you have telegraphed," an- 
 swered his wife. 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 213 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 THE day on which Ardis Claverden was expected was 
 a very busy one for the Chiverleys. Painting was 
 entirely set aside, and although this was a thing they were 
 very much opposed to, being systematic as well as indus- 
 trious workers, they decided that under the circumstances 
 it was reasonable to allow themselves this break in their 
 ordinary routine; and, in fact, they both very much en- 
 joyed it. The rooms were cleaned, dusted, and " spruced 
 up ; " the pictures in which Ardis was likely to take in- 
 terest were brought to the front ; and the brasses of the 
 clock were freshly polished. Their own chamber was 
 prepared for the visitor, while their sleeping quarters were 
 established in the screened-off corner of the studio which 
 had been used as the guest-room on occasions when 
 some artist friend from the country happened to spend 
 the night with them. They had expected to make this 
 present arrangement when they first invited Ardis to visit 
 them, and it was not in relation to the guest-room that 
 Mr. Chiverley had asked : " What are we going to do with 
 her? " 
 
 " It seems to me," said Mrs. Chiverley when everything 
 she could think of doing had been done, " that Ardis ought 
 to find herself comfortable here. To be sure, everything 
 is very different from what she is accustomed to at Bald 
 Hill, but I believe she will like that. It would be stupid 
 enough if we always found abroad just the sort of thing 
 we are accustomed to at home." 
 
 " If it is difference she wants," said Mr. Chiverley, "she 
 
214 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 can find it here to her heart's content. I am not sure, 
 however, that her craving for variety will be appeased by 
 the nondescript meals which are served up in this studio." 
 
 "If they should be good nondescript meals they will 
 suit her very well," said Mrs. Chiverley, " but what they 
 are going to be I am sure I do not know. But we must 
 do our best, and at all events I am very glad that we did 
 not telegraph to her not to come." 
 
 " And your consort is equally so," said Mr. Chiverley, 
 "and let us not grieve over the subject of refreshments. 
 Hitherto our custom has been to divide what we have by 
 two; let us divide it by three, and the thing is settled." 
 
 The husband and wife had scarcely shaken hands over 
 this settlement when there was a knock at the door, and 
 in a moment Ardis was with them. She was alone, for 
 she had insisted upon parting with the ex-governor at the 
 street door, and she had arrived an hour before she ex- 
 pected. But had she come in the midst of their cleaning 
 and polishing, the Chiverleys would have given her the 
 warmest and wildest of welcomes. The weather was cold, 
 and she wore furs. The Chiverleys had never seen her in 
 furs, and she dawned upon them with a new beauty; and 
 Ardis was as delighted to be there as they were to have 
 her. Before she took off a single wrap she walked around 
 the studio and looked at every picture, and when she was 
 introduced to the clock she declared she would shake hands 
 with it. But Mr. Chiverley was of the opinion that such 
 an act of condescension would either make the clock too 
 forward, or humble it by giving it a sudden set-back. 
 
 " That is not a very good joke," he said, "but the clock 
 and Mrs. Chiverley are used to that sort of thing, and I 
 hope you will not mind." 
 
 "Mind!" cried Ardis. "I have heard you make a 
 great many worse ones at Bald Hill." 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 215 
 
 The evening was a lively one. Ardis was in her gayest 
 spirits, and delighted the souls of the Chiverleys with 
 bright bits of news from Bald Hill and anecdotes of the 
 negroes. Bald Hill was the king of homes to the Chiv- 
 erleys, and they knew all the negroes, and had sketched 
 most of them. When the clock with twelve firm but 
 kindly strokes told them it was time that they all should 
 be in bed, they were amazed at the lateness of the hour. 
 
 The next morning, after breakfast, Ardis sat at Mrs. 
 Chiverley's little desk writing to her father. The letter 
 seemed to require a good deal of consideration, for she 
 frequently leaned back in her chair, the pen idle in her 
 hand, and her eyes fixed upon the picture which happened 
 to hang in front of her. But the letter required no 
 thought whatever, and she did not notice the picture ; she 
 was thinking about the Chiverleys. 
 
 She was surprised to find her friends so poor. She 
 had known that their style of living was more artis- 
 tic and picturesque than domestic; but she had not 
 imagined that it was associated in any degree with de- 
 privation. But now she saw that this was the case. They 
 offered no excuses or apologies; and, indeed, supposed 
 that the little shifts they made for the benefit of their 
 visitor would be unnoticed by her. Ardis, however, had 
 taken but two meals with them, when it became perfectly 
 plain to her that they had been denying themselves in 
 order that she might have enough. Mr. Chiverley had 
 gayly told her that he seldom sold any pictures ; and had 
 spoken of the slow way in which scholars came in. It 
 was evident that they were very poor, and that she ought 
 not to impose another burden upon them. 
 
 But she did not wish to leave these friends. She had 
 planned to make them a good visit. She enjoyed their 
 society, and desired with them to become better acquainted 
 
216 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 with the art and the life of the metropolis. She knew, 
 furthermore, that it pleased these good people to have her 
 with them. 
 
 It would be easy enough to better their circumstances. 
 If Mr. Chiverley should sell a picture a period of ease 
 would arrive to the simple life of their household. Ardis 
 could well afford to buy a picture, and she would be glad 
 to do it. She was aware of the limitations of Mr. Chiv- 
 erley's art, but there were some of his pictures which pos- 
 sessed a peculiar value to her, for they were from studies 
 made at Bald Hill. But she was conscious that it would 
 never do for her, at this time, to offer to buy a picture. 
 Her hosts would be sure to know why she did it. And if 
 she went away they would also see her motive, and their 
 sensitive spirits be wounded. 
 
 An idea came to her; she considered it a few moments, 
 and then hastily finished her letter to her father. She 
 now wrote a note to ex-Governor Upton, in which she 
 desired him as soon as possible after three o'clock that 
 afternoon to come to the studio of Mr. Chiverley, of 
 which she gave the address, and to look at his paintings. 
 Among the few framed pictures he would see one, hang- 
 ing in a conspicuous position, which represented her studio 
 at Bald Hill, with Uncle Shad and the ox-cart near by. 
 He could not fail to recognize it, as the details were so 
 faithfully given. This picture she desired him to buy at 
 whatever price the artist might set upon it. As soon as 
 possible she would see him, reimburse his expenditure, 
 and explain the proceeding. She directed this note to the 
 ex-governor's hotel; and declining Mr. Chiverley's offer 
 to post her letters she went out, put her father's in a letter- 
 box, and sent that for the ex-governor by a messenger. 
 
 Soon after luncheon Ardis carried off Mrs. Chiverley on 
 a pilgrimage among the shops. She did not in the least 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 217 
 
 mind taking her hostess from her work ; the little lady was 
 benefited, and art did not suffer. Mr. Chiverley, of 
 course, remained at home, for it would never do for them 
 both to go out in the day-time and lock up the studio. 
 And it was very well that he thus attended to his interests, 
 for about ten minutes past three o'clock he had a visitor. 
 This was an elderly gentleman, of tall and portly figure 
 and urbane and gracious manner. The moment he entered 
 the studio, there was a general blossoming of hopes in the 
 heart of Mr. Chiverley. This man looked as if he meant 
 business, and he was a stranger. When Mr. Chiverley 
 sold any of his works, it was always to a stranger. 
 
 " My name, sir," said the visitor, " is Upton, and this, I 
 presume, is Mr. Chiverley." And he extended his hand. 
 " As a friend of the Claverden family, I am happy to know 
 you, sir. I have been requested by Miss Ardis Claverden, 
 who is visiting you, and who I imagine is not within doors 
 on this beautiful day, to call upon you, sir, and purchase 
 a certain painting which she described to me in a note 
 she sent me this morning, and which I think I can identify 
 without difficulty." And putting on his eye-glasses, he 
 began to walk about the room and look at the pictures. 
 
 " Miss Claverden asked you to come here and buy a 
 picture?" exclaimed Mr. Chiverley. 
 
 " Yes, sir," said the ex-governor. " The scene of it is 
 laid at Bald Hill, and I think I shall be able to point it 
 out to you in a few minutes." 
 
 Harry Chiverley stood silent. This gentleman had 
 been requested by Ardis in a note sent this morning to 
 come here and buy a picture ! The whole affair was as 
 easy to see through as the Venetian goblet at which he 
 was vacantly gazing. Their guest had been able to per- 
 ceive thus soon that they were really not able to entertain 
 her, and she had taken this method of assisting them. In 
 
218 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 one way it was a legitimate method, for it was his business 
 to sell pictures, and it was but a friendly act to get him a 
 customer; but Mr. Chiverley did not doubt in the least 
 that Ardis Claverden intended to pay for this picture her- 
 self. She might want it, perhaps, but, for all that, it was 
 an act of charity. Had she not believed it would be so 
 considered, she would not have thought it necessary to 
 employ an agent in its purchase. 
 
 Ex-Governor Upton's manner of examining pictures 
 was very slow and deliberate, and it gave the artist plenty 
 of time to think. The announcement made by his visitor 
 had come upon him like a dash of iced water, but now 
 the reaction began to set in, and the chill of the charity 
 was gradually succeeded by a glow of grateful admiration 
 for the kind-hearted girl who had thought of doing this 
 thing. He knew that she had intended it as a most deli- 
 cate act of friendship ; and that in doing her errand, this 
 elderly gentleman had bungled. 
 
 Mr. Chiverley was so sure that this conclusion was cor- 
 rect that he stepped up to the ex-governor, and said : " I 
 think I can show you the painting you are looking for, 
 sir; but before doing so, let me ask you if Miss Claverden, 
 in her note to you, requested that her name should not 
 be brought into this transaction?" 
 
 Mr. Upton turned suddenly and gazed fixedly at the 
 artist ; then he put his hand in the side pocket of his coat 
 and drew out a note. " I brought this with me, sir," he 
 said, "on account of the address. I will look at it." 
 
 He did look at it. He read it through. Then he 
 turned it over, and found some lines written at the top of 
 the first page. These lines read thus: "Please do not let 
 Mr. Chiverley imagine that I sent you. Indeed, I should 
 like him to think you never heard of me." 
 
 " Upon my word! " exclaimed the ex-governor. " This 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 219 
 
 injunction, placed in a most conspicuous position, entirely 
 escaped my notice. I am accustomed to find nothing but 
 an address and a date at the top of a letter, and so left 
 this unread. I declare, sir, I am afraid I have put my 
 foot into it! " 
 
 " Honestly speaking," said Mr. Chiverley, " I think that 
 is what you have done, sir." 
 
 " What can I say, sir," cried the ex-governor, " to ex- 
 press my dismay and distress at this unfortunate occur- 
 rence? I see now that the young lady desired me to 
 come here as a stranger and buy the picture." 
 
 "That is exactly what she intended," said Mr. Chiv- 
 erley, "and now, sir, the only thing we can do is to 
 keep to ourselves all knowledge of this mistake. It would 
 sorely wound Miss Claverden, should she know what has 
 happened. I will accept the situation. I know that she 
 likes this picture, and my pictures are for sale. I know 
 also that she buys it at this time because she knows that 
 my circumstances are not flourishing. But I much prefer 
 to be humiliated than that our warm-hearted young friend 
 should suspect a jot of what has happened." 
 
 " Sir," said the ex-governor, stretching out his hand, 
 " you are a gentleman to the backbone ! This most un- 
 fortunate outcome of my mission is due entirely to my 
 own stupidity. I offer you my most humble apologies, 
 and I entirely agree with you that nothing should be said 
 of my inexcusable blunder, and that we should proceed 
 with the business as Miss Claverden intended." 
 
 " Very good," said Mr. Chiverley, endeavoring to throw 
 something of his ordinary good-humor into his manner. 
 " And don't make apologies, I beg of you, sir. We will 
 drop all that, and look at this thing as the straightforward 
 piece of business it was intended to be. This is the 
 picture you are looking for." 
 
220 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 The ex-governor took off his eye-glasses, wiped them, 
 put them on again, and stepped up to the painting indi- 
 cated. " Yes, sir," he said, after looking at it attentively, 
 "you are right. Here is Miss Claverden's studio; here 
 is the negro man with his team of oxen and his wagon; 
 and here is the very grass that grows about the mansion 
 of Bald Hill. It is an admirable picture, sir most ad- 
 mirable! I do not wonder that Miss Claverden desires 
 to have it! And now, sir, what is the price you ask for 
 this work of art?" 
 
 Without hesitation Mr. Chiverley mentioned the price 
 he would have asked of any ordinary buyer; and the ex- 
 governor drew out his pocket-book and paid the money. 
 
 Anxious that the painting should leave the studio be- 
 fore the return of Ardis, Mr. Upton sent for a messenger 
 and had the picture carried to his hotel. " It shall hang in 
 my room, sir," he said, " while I remain in New York ; and 
 when I leave, it shall be boxed and sent to its destination." 
 
 Mr. Chiverley laughed. " Now," he said, " it almost 
 seems as if you were really the purchaser of the picture." 
 
 " That is the way to look at it," said the ex-governor. 
 " It was intended we should so look at it, and we should do 
 it. All the rest should be blotted from our recollection. 
 I bid you good-day, sir, and I am very glad indeed to have 
 made your acquaintance." 
 
 When the two ladies returned, they found Harry Chiv- 
 erley sitting on a high stool in the middle of the room, his 
 arms folded, and on his head a tall silk hat. 
 
 " You must excuse this hat," he said, addressing Ardis. 
 " It is not my custom to wear it, especially in the house ; 
 but, as Mrs. Chiverley knows, I always put it on when I 
 have sold a picture." 
 
 "Sold a picture!" cried his wife, while Ardis turned 
 around to lay her hat upon a table. 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 221 
 
 " Yes, ladies,' 1 Mr. Chiverley said, still sitting upon his 
 stool, " I have to announce that during your absence I 
 have sold one of the works of art which formerly adorned 
 this gallery. You had been gone perhaps an hour, when 
 a fine old gentleman, all of the olden time I know he 
 was Southern from his intonation came in and asked to 
 look over my pictures. He seemed to be endowed with 
 a remarkable appreciation of art. As a proof of this he 
 bought one of my paintings. As might have been ex- 
 pected, he chose a Southern subject; and, by the way, it 
 was one of the Bald Hill pictures." 
 
 During this address, Mr. Chiverley kept his chin well 
 up in the air with the manner of a man whose worth had 
 been duly recognized, occasionally glancing from one lady 
 to the other, but addressing his remarks impartially to the 
 space between them. 
 
 Ardis bore the ordeal well. Her face was somewhat 
 flushed, but it could be considered no more than natural 
 that she should thus show her pleasure at the good fortune 
 of her friends. 
 
 Mrs. Chiverley was in a tremor of delight. " What 
 was his name? " she cried. " Who was he? " 
 
 " Would you believe it," said Mr. Chiverley, suddenly 
 bringing down his chin, " I never asked him ! And what 
 is more, he had a messenger called, and sent the picture 
 off to his hotel." 
 
 " That was very considerate of good Mr. Upton," 
 thought Ardis. "He certainly managed the matter well! 
 It was most prudent in him not to give his name! " 
 
 "Oh, I am so sorry you did not get his name!" cried 
 Mrs. Chiverley. " Every picture sold should be entered 
 in a book with the name of the purchaser and all particu- 
 lars. You might want to trace it." 
 
 "Bless your soul! " cried Mr. Chiverley jumping down 
 
222 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 from the stool and taking off his hat, " I would much 
 rather paint another picture than trace that one! And 
 now, madam, I am going out on some business. Is there 
 anything I can do for you? " 
 
 There were a great many things he could do for her, and 
 when Ardis had gone to her room, Mrs. Chiverley men- 
 tioned some of these, and poured out her joy meanwhile. 
 " Nothing more fortunate could happen to two deserving 
 people," she said. " To think that we should sell a picture 
 at this moment! Ardis must wonder that we are so full 
 of delight, but she cannot appreciate what a momentous 
 thing it is for us to sell a picture ! And what did you 
 get for it ? " 
 
 When Mr. Chiveiley told her she threw her arms round 
 his neck and kissed him. 
 
 "Thanks!" he said. "There is no better way of 
 stamping a transaction with approval. And now, my dear, 
 what shall I get for dinner? It must be something jolly, 
 already cooked." 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 223 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 THE little family at the studio was now a very happy 
 one. Mrs. Chiverley bloomed like a June rose in 
 the warmth and light of pecuniary sufficiency, and Mr. 
 Chiverley having eased his mind by the decision that this 
 money which had come from Ardis should be used, as far 
 as possible, for her benefit, allowed his spirits to rise as 
 high as they pleased ; and being used to lofty flights, they 
 arose to a great altitude and staid there. What his wife 
 sometimes gently alluded to as super-hospitality, he con- 
 sidered strict justice, and they lived merrily. 
 
 Ardis, too, was happy. What she had done, and its 
 effects upon her friends, had, of course, a gladdening in- 
 fluence upon her. And, besides that, she greatly enjoyed 
 her life in New York. With one or the other of her 
 friends in the day-time, and with both of them at night, 
 she visited studios and art exhibitions, and many interest- 
 ing places besides. And as for society, they had all that 
 they wanted, for both she and the Chiverleys had friends 
 among the best people in New York. 
 
 In regard to Roger Dunworth and his relations to her, 
 her mind had now grown to be at ease. When he came 
 home he would find out that he had made a terrible mis- 
 take about Mr. Surrey; and if he did not find out this 
 for himself, she was quite sure that both Norma and 
 Dr. Lester would help him to the discovery. Then when 
 he spoke again and she did not in the least doubt he 
 would speak again she would have her answer ready. 
 There was no reason for impatience, if there should be a 
 
224 ARDIS CLAVERDEN, 
 
 certain delay in the settlement of this matter between 
 Roger and herself. She hoped he would take plenty of 
 time after his return to fully satisfy his mind concerning 
 his mistake. Then, and not before, would he have a right 
 to speak. 
 
 Ardis had been with the Chiverleys about a month 
 when, one afternoon, on her return from a walk with Mrs. 
 Chiverley, she found a letter from Dr. Lester. It was a 
 long letter, and she took it into her room and sat down 
 to read it. 
 
 The doctor began by saying that he had hesitated a 
 good deal before writing this letter; but that as he had 
 promised that he would give her all the information in re- 
 gard to Roger Dunworth that he himself should receive, 
 he felt it his duty to keep his promise, be his news good 
 or bad. He had received a letter from Roger Dunworth 
 which was a strictly business epistle and related to the 
 forwarding of money to the writer at Atlanta, toward which 
 city the doctor supposed him to be making his way. 
 Breeville, the village where this letter was written, had 
 probably infrequent mails, for Roger's letter had lain for 
 some days in the post-office; and the postmaster had 
 written a message on the back of it to the effect that the 
 young man who had posted that letter had got into 
 trouble ; and that if he had any friends some of them 
 ought to come down and see about him. The doctor's 
 impulse had been to instantly start for the place himself, 
 but as this was not practicable, he had telegraphed to the 
 station nearest Breeville, to which village his message had 
 been forwarded, asking the postmaster for full particulars 
 of Roger's difficulties. " 
 
 He had now a letter from said postmaster, in which 
 he stated that Mr Dunworth had been at that place for 
 about a week, riding around the country all day in an 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 22$ 
 
 apparently aimless manner, and returning to the tavern at 
 night. This method of action had excited the suspicions 
 of the neighbors, for a band of horse-thieves had recently 
 come into that part of the country, and it was supposed 
 that this shabbily dressed stranger, mounted upon a re- 
 markably fine horse, might be a confederate of these men, 
 and that his trips about the country were for the purpose 
 of collecting information. Soon after this matter began to 
 be talked about, a valuable horse was stolen from a farm 
 about ten miles from Breeville, toward which Dunworth 
 had been seen riding the day before. The depredations 
 of the horse-thieves had become so daring that a vigilance 
 committee had been formed in the county to capture 
 and make short work of them. The postmaster added 
 that Dunworth had evidently found out that suspicion had 
 been directed against him, for he had gone off, nobody 
 knew where. This flight had made the committee feel 
 sure he was guilty, and they were now in pursuit of him, 
 and, if caught, it would probably go hard with him. 
 
 Dr. Lester wrote that he had not mentioned the matter 
 to Major Claverden, for if he should know of Roger's 
 trouble he would start off for Georgia immediately; and 
 the doctor did not think that Ardis' father should be 
 allowed to encounter the hardships, privations, and per- 
 haps dangers, which such a journey would entail, without 
 her knowledge and consent. 
 
 " I am trying to arrange matters," the doctor said in 
 conclusion, "so that I may go down there very soon. 
 I hope to hear from you before I start." 
 
 At the bottom of the letter was a postscript in pencil. 
 " Have just received a telegram from the Breeville post- 
 master. He says : ' Not caught yet. I will stand by him 
 if possible.' " 
 
 For ten minutes after finishing reading the letter, Ardis 
 
22 6 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 sat steadily looking at it. Then she got up, and stepping 
 quickly into the studio put on her wrap, which she had 
 thrown over a chair when she came in. 
 
 " Going out ! " exclaimed Mrs. Chiverley. 
 
 "Yes," said Ardis, "my letter requires an immediate 
 answer. I am going to the telegraph office." 
 
 " Let me attend to that for you," said Mr. Chiverley, 
 rising. 
 
 " Oh, no, thank you," replied Ardis. " I shall be back 
 in five minutes." 
 
 When Ardis left the studio, she had not yet composed 
 her telegram, but before she reached the office it was pre- 
 pared. Jc was to Dr. Lester and ran thus: " Do not start 
 South. Meet me at Woodbridge Station, Wednesday, 
 1 5th, afternoon. A." 
 
 When she came back the studio was lighted, and Mr. 
 and Mrs. Chiverley were in a state of anxious solicitude. 
 
 "Has anything happened?" cried the latter. "Ardis, 
 you are looking positively pale." 
 
 " Dear friends," said Ardis, " after dinner I will tell you 
 everything. There is no bad news from Bald Hill, but I 
 have heard something which demands instant considera- 
 tion." 
 
 " I hope it is nothing that will take her away from us," 
 said Mrs. Chiverley, when Ardis had gone to her room. 
 And in this wish her husband most earnestly joined her. 
 It would have destroyed their appetite for dinner if they 
 could have read the telegram Ardis had sent. 
 
 The meal was a quiet one, and when it was over the 
 three friends took their usual seats by the studio fire. 
 
 " I did not want to say one word," said Ardis, " until I 
 had fully settled in my own mind certain important mat- 
 ters which have been suddenly brought before me. It is 
 so much easier to talk about a thing when you have de- 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 227 
 
 termined what you are going to do." And then she told 
 them all what Dr. Lester had written. 
 
 Her hearers were shocked. They both knew Roger 
 Dunworth and liked him much, and the terrible danger 
 that hung over him, or had perhaps already overtaken him, 
 would have bitterly afflicted them, even if they had not 
 seen that Ardis was so deeply interested. 
 
 "What ought to be done? Is there anything that can 
 be done?" cried Mrs. Chiverley. 
 
 " Some of his friends must go to him," said Ardis, 
 " vouch for him, and support him. An utter stranger in 
 that wild country, he has no chance at all by himself." 
 
 "What friends ?" gasped Mrs. Chiverley. 
 
 " Myself, for one," said Ardis. 
 
 "I thought so! I was afraid of it! " cried Mrs. Chiv- 
 erley, bursting into tears. " O Ardis, dear Ardis, don't 
 think of it! Don't dream of it! It will be terrible! It 
 will not be right. It is not to be thought of that you 
 should go down there." 
 
 "By no means," said Mr. Chiverley. "You do not 
 know the dangers of such an undertaking. And, besides, 
 my dear girl, I am bound to say to you that nothing you 
 could do in that way would be likely to be of any avail. 
 Whatever danger threatens Roger would most likely over- 
 take him long before you could get to him." 
 
 " Oh, I have thought of that ! I have thought of that ! " 
 said Ardis. " And I have considered every possible thing 
 that could be done for Roger. A certificate of character 
 could be sent to the postmaster who is interested in him, 
 but Roger is far away from Breeville now, and I doubt 
 if such a paper can be of any use ; and what Dr. Lester 
 has already written ought to be sufficient if his letter could 
 be made use of. But no trust can be put in this, and we 
 must go down to him." 
 
228 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 " We ! Who? " exclaimed Mrs. Chiverley. 
 
 " I for one," said Ardis. " It will be perfectly useless 
 to try to dissuade me. I could not stay here and feel 
 that people were making mistakes, or giving up when they 
 should go on and on and on! If I can't do things I can 
 see that things are done. Dr. Lester will go with me, I 
 am sure. But he is not enough I want a lady with me. 
 I want you two to go. Don't look so amazed! Don't 
 say a thing until I have explained ! It will be a very good 
 thing for you to go South this time of the year, and you 
 have had no vacation. I must pay all expenses because 
 it is my affair. Oh, my dear friends, I do so want you 
 to go with me! " And she laid a hand upon each of them. 
 
 "Go? Of course we will go! " sobbed Mrs. Chiverley. 
 
 " My dear Ardis," said Mr. Chiverley, and although he 
 did not sob, his voice was husky, " we would go to the ends 
 of the earth with you, if our going could be of the least 
 benefit; but I do not think that a journey to Georgia by 
 us three will be of any use whatever. What is done 
 should be done promptly and instantly. It is a long 
 journey, and after we were there it might be a good while 
 before we would know what to do, or could do it. And, 
 besides, this sort of thing will probably cost more than 
 you suppose ; and although we would not think for an in- 
 stant of expense at such a time if we had the money, the 
 fact is that we haven't it, and it would not be right for 
 you to furnish it." 
 
 " Please don't talk in that way! " cried Ardis. "Those 
 things are trifles and ought not to be considered! If any- 
 thing can be instantly done for Roger, let it be done. 
 Write, telegraph anything ! But that must not interfere 
 with our going to him ; and I do not believe that we shall 
 necessarily be too late. Roger is quick-witted, and can 
 ride as far and as well as any man, and with the start that 
 
ARD1S CLA VERDEN. 229 
 
 he has had it will not be easy for the vigilance com- 
 mittee to come up with him. If he can reach Atlanta, or 
 any large place, it is likely he will be lodged in jail, and 
 perhaps that is the best thing that can happen to him ; 
 and when we get there it will all be right. But, whatever 
 happens, go I must! And you two must go with me! 
 That is what I was thinking about during dinner, and I 
 fully decided it before I left the table. Don't talk about 
 money. I wouldn't allow you to spend it if you had it. 
 That is a thing of no account." 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Chiverley looked at each other. "All 
 right, Ardis ! " said Harry Chiverley. " We will stand by 
 you and we will do whatever you say. You shall never 
 think that misfortune came to you because these two 
 friends failed you. Now what is to be done? And 
 when?" 
 
 " I have telegraphed Dr. Lester," said Ardis, " that I 
 shall be at Woodbridge Station to-morrow afternoon." 
 
 "Woodbridge Station?" repeated both the Chiverleys. 
 
 " Yes," said Ardis, " that is a railroad station about six 
 miles this side of Bolton. And now I will explain to you 
 the whole of my plan. I do not wish my father to know 
 anything of this expedition. In the first place it would 
 dreadfully worry him, and in the second place he would 
 insist upon going with us ; and most positively that must 
 not be. The one thing father has to avoid is exposure in 
 the winter-time. I shall write to him that I have gone on 
 a short tour with you to the South, and that we shall stop 
 at Bolton on our return. I must see Dr. Lester. And he 
 lives not much further from Woodbridge than from Bolton. 
 I wish to pass through Bolton unobserved, and if the 
 doctor should meet me there it might attract attention. 
 It would never do for my father to know that I had passed 
 through Bolton without stopping. I fully expect the 
 
230 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 doctor to go South with us, and I must send him another 
 telegram to that effect." 
 
 "And when must we start to do all this?" asked Mrs. 
 Chiverley. 
 
 " At twelve o'clock to-night," said Ardis, " and we shall 
 reach Woodbridge to-morrow afternoon." 
 
 At this statement Mr. Chiverley pushed back his chair 
 with a start, and Mrs. Chiverley opened her eyes very 
 wide. " The dishes are not even washed ! " she exclaimed. 
 
 " My dear Mrs. Chiverley," said Ardis, " if we do not 
 start to-night, we lose a whole day. And there is plenty 
 of time to get ready. It is barely eight o'clock, and that 
 gives us over three hours before we need leave this house, 
 and that is quite time enough for everything." 
 
 " We shall have to skip around in a lively manner," 
 said Harry Chiverley, "if we expect to take a midnight 
 train." 
 
 " I don't think we shall have, to skip much," said Ardis, 
 "if we go to work systematically. In the first place I 
 shall ask you, Mr. Chiverley, to go out and send a tele- 
 gram for me to Dr. Lester. I want to tell him to meet 
 us at Woodbridge prepared to go South with us. And 
 while you are out you can buy our tickets. I think it will 
 be better for us to go straight to Atlanta ; and if Roger 
 has not reached there when we arrive, we can then decide 
 what we shall do. There is a hotel at Atlanta which I 
 have heard father speak of, called ' Didman's,' and you 
 can tell the janitor to forward our letters to that hotel. 
 Please engage berths in a sleeping-car, and order a car- 
 riage to come for us at eleven. That will give us a margin 
 if we are not quite ready. While you are out, Mrs. Chiv- 
 erley and I will wash the dishes and put things generally 
 to rights, and then we will all go to packing. I shall take 
 my small trunk, and twenty minutes will be enough to pack 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 231 
 
 that. Then I shall have time to write a letter to father 
 which we can post at the station." 
 
 " Trunk ! " cried Mr. Chiverley. " For such an expedi- 
 tion I should think that a bundle on the end of a stick, or 
 at most a small hand-bag, would be what each of us would 
 want." 
 
 " Not at all," said Ardis. " We are going to Atlanta, 
 and it may be necessary, for Roger's sake, for us to make 
 a good appearance there. So we must have clothes, and 
 you and Mrs. Chiverley must take your sketching things." 
 
 "Good!" said Mr. Chiverley. "And, after all, it is 
 easier to pack a trunk and check it than to carry a bundle 
 on a stick." 
 
 " And just as cheap," said Mrs. Chiverley. 
 
 When Mr. Chiverley returned from his errands he 
 stamped his feet and shook himself outside the studio door 
 before he entered. " Do you know," said he, as he came 
 in, "that it is snowing like Sam Hill? " 
 
 " I don't know how Sam Hill snows," said Ardis, who 
 was busy tying up a portable easel, " but if real winter 
 weather is coming on we ought to be very glad that we 
 are going South. The carriage will certainly come, snow 
 or no snow, I suppose? " 
 
 "Oh, yes;" said Mr. Chiverley; "there will be no 
 trouble about that. But while I was out I remembered 
 that there are people in this metropolis who ought to know 
 of my departure. It does not do for a man of business 
 like myself to vanish suddenly between two days without 
 letting any one know about it." 
 
 " Of course not," said Ardis, " and you can sit down and 
 write notes to all of them. There is plenty of time, for 
 Mrs. Chiverley and I will attend to the packing." 
 
 " Yes," said Mrs. Chiverley, who was just entering the 
 room with an armful of miscellaneous articles. "It is 
 
232 ARDIS CLAFEKDEN. 
 
 almost done now. And I never should have supposed 
 that I could have received notice after dinner that we 
 were to close up this establishment and go South, and 
 that at half-past nine we should be almost ready to start! " 
 
 " There is something of the lively bounce in it, even to 
 me," said Mr. Chiverley. " And do you think, my dear, 
 that it would be well to write to Stolger and tell him he 
 need not hurry with that last frame I ordered? " 
 
 " By no means," cried his wife ; " that would be a very 
 bad precedent. No matter how long we stay away, you may 
 be sure the frame will not be finished when we get back." 
 
 " I am very glad," said Mr. Chiverley when Ardis was not 
 present, " that she seems to keep up her spirits so well." 
 
 " As long as there is anything for her to do," said Mrs. 
 Chiverley, " her spirits will be all right. And so would 
 mine be if it were not for the fear that no matter what we 
 do, we shall be too late." 
 
 " Banish such thoughts," said Mr. Chiverley. " Now 
 that we have enlisted in this cause, do not let us have a 
 doubt about it. It is plain enough," he continued, '^that 
 everything has been settled between these two young 
 people." 
 
 " Oh, yes," said Mrs. Chiverley, " I have long supposed 
 that." 
 
 All preparations were made in time for the little party 
 to partake of a supper, in which they endeavored to eat up 
 everything that was left in the house ; and when the trunks 
 had been carried down, and Mrs. Chiverley was shutting 
 the door behind her, she turned and said, " Good-by, dear 
 clock. Don't go on too long striking to yourself by day 
 and by night." 
 
 And as they went down-stairs the imaginative little 
 woman could hear the clock say in clear, sonorous tones: 
 "Good-by-dear-friends-the-best-of-luck-go-with you! " 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 233 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 WHEN, on the next morning, the Chiverleys and Ardis 
 Claverden reached Washington, they found that 
 beautiful city as white as its monument, and the snow still 
 falling. They continued their journey and were much 
 surprised, to find the snow deeper and deeper as they 
 progressed southward ; so that they reached Woodbridge 
 Station two hours behind time. 
 
 " It has nearly stopped snowing," said Ardis, peering 
 through the window as the train slowed up, "but I am 
 dreadfully afraid Dr. Lester will not be here ! However, 
 I ought not to be, for he is a man to be trusted in any 
 weather. Yes, there he is, buttoned up to the chin ! And 
 there is Cream-o'-Tartar, harnessed to a wagon. I never 
 saw that horse in harness before." 
 
 The train had scarcely come to a stop before Ardis was 
 out on the platform, and in a moment she was vigorously 
 shaking hands with Dr. Lester. 
 
 " Are you ready to go on with us? " she asked. " You 
 received my last telegram?" 
 
 Instead of answering her the doctor said: " Your friends 
 are with you, I suppose?" 
 
 " Yes, here they are," said Ardis, as the Chiverleys ap- 
 peared on the platform. 
 
 The doctor hastily greeted them, and said : " You must 
 all get off the train. Let me help you bring out your 
 hand baggage. If you have trunks it will be better to let 
 them go on." 
 
234 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 "What is the matter?" cried Ardis. "What does this 
 mean? " 
 
 "The road is blocked up beyond here. The train 
 ahead of this has not been able to reach Lynchburg. It 
 will be useless to stay on this train ; it cannot proceed 
 much further, and there is no knowing what privations 
 you may be subjected to." 
 
 "But what shall we do? Where shall we go?" ex- 
 claimed Ardis, while the Chiverleys stood in silent amaze- 
 ment. 
 
 " I have provided for everything," said the doctor ; " the 
 point at present is to get off the train. I asked the 
 station-master to detain it a few minutes." 
 
 The doctor's manner was so decided that no further 
 questions were asked, and the travellers, with their portable 
 baggage, soon stood on the station platform. 
 
 As the cars began slowly and laboriously to move on, 
 Ardis's troubled face was turned toward them with such 
 an anxious and wistful air that it might have been sup- 
 posed that she was about to spring back upon them and 
 press on at all hazards toward the wilderness of Georgia. 
 " It is too bad! " she exclaimed. " I believe we ought to 
 have staid on the train ! " 
 
 " No," said the doctor. " I have had plenty of time to 
 consider this matter, and I think you will soon agree that 
 I have acted properly. This snow-storm came from the 
 southwest, and it has been snowing in the mountains for 
 forty-eight hours, and the tracks are entirely blocked up. 
 I have seen telegrams from various points, and know that 
 travel over this road cannot be resumed for a day, perhaps 
 two, after the storm ceases. We shall lose no time by 
 waiting until the road is open. And you need not be 
 anxious, Miss Ardis, for I have had another telegram from 
 my postmaster, and he tells me that the committee has 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 235 
 
 returned unsuccessful. The telegram ends with: 'No 
 news of your friend.' That means, of course, good news." 
 
 " Good? Yes, perhaps it is," said Ardis, " but we must 
 get to him as soon as we can ! " 
 
 "Certainly, certainly," said the doctor, "we shall do 
 that. But I have a strong hope that by this time Roger 
 is in Atlanta, or very near it. And when he is there he is 
 safe. But unless we have direct and good news from 
 him, we shall go on as soon as the road is open." 
 
 The doctor's words brought a degree of comfort to 
 Ardis. " Well," she said, " what can't be done, can't be 
 done. But as soon as anything can be done we must do 
 it. And now, may I ask, Dr. Lester, what we ourselves 
 are to do? I do not wish to go to Bald Hill." 
 
 " If I had had any notion of that," said the doctor, " I 
 should have allowed you to proceed to Bolton on the train." 
 
 " What I should like to do," broke in Mr. Chiverley, 
 " would be to find out if there is a fire in that little station. 
 If this is your ' sunny South,' give me the shaded North." 
 
 By the glowing station stove Dr. Lester explained his 
 plans. "I was in Bolton last night," he said, "and I 
 there became quite sure that no trains would cross the 
 mountains to-day, and I therefore made arrangements to 
 take care of you good people until you could go on. I 
 would not be so cruel as to let you stay on the train, and 
 perhaps be snowed up at some point where you would be 
 half-frozen and find nothing to eat." 
 
 " And what are you going to do? " asked Ardis. 
 
 " I am going to take you home with me," said the doctor. 
 
 At this announcement Ardis laughed, and Mr. Chiverley, 
 who knew the doctor's method of life, and had smoked 
 many a pipe with him in his oddly-furnished room, could 
 not help following her example. Mrs. Chiverley did not 
 think this proceeding very polite, but she was so pleased 
 
236 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 io see that Ardis could laugh that she abstained from 
 comment. 
 
 " You need not suppose," said Dr. Lester, smiling, 
 " that I am going to shut you up in my crowded den. 
 I have prepared accommodations for you in the old house." 
 
 " Why, that was burned long ago," said Ardis. " I 
 thought it was nothing but ruins." 
 
 "Ruins!" exclaimed Mrs. Chiverley. "Will that be 
 safe?" 
 
 Mr. Chiverley was delighted. " I remember that place," 
 he said. " I have sketched it from all points. It will be 
 jolly to stay there! And ruins, my dear, are ever so much 
 safer than new buildings. New houses are continually 
 getting destroyed in some way or other, but ruins last for- 
 ever." 
 
 " What is left of the house," said the doctor, " is per- 
 fectly safe, and there are two rooms in good condition on 
 the ground-floor. But I am not going to say anything 
 more about my hostelry. There is no rival house, and 
 you will be obliged to go with me." 
 
 " Go with you ! " said Ardis. " To be sure we will. 
 And what are we to go in? That wagon? " 
 
 " Yes," said the doctor; " I borrowed that spring wagon 
 of Tommy Deans, and I reckon old Cream-o'-Tartar will 
 pull us through." 
 
 " It might have been better," said Mr. Chiverley, as he 
 came out of the station and gazed at the wide expanse of 
 white around him, " if you had borrowed a sleigh." 
 
 " Sleighs are very uncommon about here," said the 
 doctor. " Our snows generally last so short a time that 
 they would be of little use. But wheels will go through 
 snow better than through deep mud, 'and I think we shall 
 get on." 
 
 The party was soon seated in the open wagon, and the 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 237 
 
 journey of five or six miles was begun. They could not 
 expect to travel rapidly, but the ground was frozen be- 
 neath the snow, and many parts of the road had been 
 partially cleared by the wind, so that Cream-o'-Tartar was 
 able to jog along at a slow trot. On the way the doctor 
 further explained some of his arrangements. 
 
 " It will be a regular picnic/' he said. " We shall have 
 to do our own cooking, and everything. I have sent away 
 the colored people who waited on me, for they could not 
 be trusted to keep the secret of my entertaining guests. 
 The snow frightened them, and they were glad enough to 
 go away and huddle up in the cabins of their friends. 
 I went to Bolton this morning and laid in a stock of pro- 
 visions, and so I think we shall not suffer." 
 
 " Suffer! " cried Harry Chiverley. " Not to be thought 
 of ! A winter picnic ! And in a ruin ! This is truly jolly ! 
 Hurrah for the sunny South ! " 
 
 " Is the house so burned," asked Mrs. Chiverley, " that 
 there can be no further fires? " 
 
 " Oh, no," said the doctor. " There is a good one there 
 now if it has not burned out. I will engage to keep you 
 warm enough, though in other ways you may not be sat- 
 isfied." 
 
 "Given food and warmth," said Mr. Chiverley, "we 
 will let everything else go." 
 
 It had now stopped snowing: there was but little 
 wind; and, well wrapped up, the travellers enjoyed the 
 keen, frosty air ; and had they been bowling along in a 
 rleigh with jingling bells the trip would have been a de- 
 lightful one. Ploughing slowly through the snow in an 
 open spring wagon was quite another thing. But they 
 were all people of good courage and willing to accommodate 
 themselves to their conditions. 
 
 After a mile or two they turned into a branch road 
 
238 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 which ran in the direction of the doctor's house. Their 
 way now led them directly through a forest of oaks and 
 chestnuts, varied at intervals by low growths of evergreens 
 and tall pines. The scenes through which they were 
 passing were of such rare beauty that the travellers broke 
 into exclamations of delight. The ground was all covered 
 with pure unbroken snow, and every long branch of ever- 
 greens and every tree and bough and trailing vine bent in 
 graceful curves beneath a heavy edging of sparkling white- 
 ness. Lines of pure white beauty were all around them, 
 crossing, interlacing, and standing out in delicate relief 
 against the patches of blue which now appeared in the 
 western sky. The sun, well down toward the horizon, 
 shed over everything a pale rosy light, and tipped, be- 
 sides, many a bending branch with frosty points of gem- 
 like color. 
 
 " I have imagined fairy-land," said Mrs. Chiverley, " but 
 now I have seen it! " 
 
 Dr. Lester stopped his horse, and turning around he 
 said: " If there are any fairies who live in these woods in 
 the winter, I wish they would now appear and show me 
 the road. No vehicle has been this way since the snow 
 fell, and to me any wide space between the trees seems 
 as much like a road as any other space." 
 
 "Did you not come from your house by this road?" 
 asked Ardis. 
 
 " No," said the doctor, " I went from Woodbridge to 
 Bolton, where I had been to get the latest news. I really 
 do not know whether I ought to go to the right of that 
 big oak, or to the left." 
 
 This information was disconcerting, and the Chiverleys 
 forgot the beauty of the scenery. 
 
 " Why, doctor," cried Ardis, " I thought you knew every 
 foot of this country! " 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 239 
 
 " So I do," he answered, " under ordinary circumstances, 
 but a country covered with snow is a new thing alto- 
 gether. In coming through these woods I have always 
 followed the road. But where is the road now? It has 
 disappeared utterly." 
 
 " Perhaps we may meet some one who will show us the 
 road," said Mrs. Chiverley. 
 
 Ardis shrugged her shoulders. She did not want to 
 meet anybody; and the doctor said: "There is not a 
 house within a mile of us, nor a foot-print in this snow." 
 
 Mr. Chiverley proposed that they should go back to the 
 station they could find the way there by their own tracks 
 and then proceed to the doctor's house by the way of 
 Bolton. 
 
 "Oh, that would be a long, long journey," said the 
 doctor, " and I doubt if my horse would be equal to it. 
 And, besides, we do not wish to go through Bolton, do 
 we, Miss Ardis?" 
 
 " No, indeed! " said Ardis. " And then straight past the 
 Bald Hill gate! Oh, never! I think the very best thing 
 you can do, doctor, is to let your horse find the road for 
 himself. Of course he knows the way home, and he is 
 more likely to keep in the road than to go out of it." 
 
 " He has been over the road often enough," said the 
 doctor, " but if he is as bewildered as I am it is not likely 
 he will remember anything about it now." 
 
 " Let us try him," said Ardis. " There is nothing better 
 that we can do." 
 
 " Very good," said the doctor, dropping the reins on 
 the dash-board. " And now, Cream-o'-Tartar, we put our 
 destinies into your hands, or, rather, your feet. Get 
 up!" 
 
 The horse started, and, without hesitation, passed to 
 the right of the big oak tree. 
 
240 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 " I believe he is on the road," exclaimed Ardis. " See! 
 There is a perfect avenue stretching itself before us." 
 
 " Yes," said Mr. Chiverley, turning his head from side 
 to side. "And if there were not similar avenues extend- 
 ing themselves in various directions, I should feel certain 
 that we were on the road." 
 
 Dr. Lester, who was not used to driving, nor to sitting 
 cramped up in a vehicle, now drew his gloves from his 
 half-frozen fingers, and put his hands in his pockets. If 
 his horse would do his own driving he was more than 
 willing to let him do it. 
 
 " This is one of my oddest experiences," said Mr. 
 Chiverley. " To proceed through fairy-land under the 
 sole guidance of a medicinal preparation is something to 
 be remembered! " 
 
 After a time Mrs. Chiverley said : " It begins to seem to 
 me as if Cream-o'-Tartar were wandering at random 
 among the trees." 
 
 This remark was emphasized by Cream-o'-Tartar sud- 
 denly taking a sharp turn to the right, and covering the 
 party with a shower of snow from some down-bent ever- 
 green branches. There was a startled scream from the 
 ladies, and Dr. Lester, his eyes blinded with snow, shouted : 
 "Whoa!" 
 
 The horse stopped. 
 
 "I knew it would be so!" cried Mrs. Chiverley. "If 
 you leave him to himself he will dash us to pieces." 
 
 "I don't believe it!" said Ardis. "This is as much 
 like a road as any other place. Let him go on, doctor." 
 
 The doctor started the horse and on they went. Trees 
 stood all about them, on either side, and even in front; 
 but among these dark trunks, little and big, without strik- 
 ing one of them, Cream-o'-Tartar slowly made his way. 
 
 The sun was now low and it was beginning to be dusky. 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 241 
 
 The doctor remarked that the moon would rise in a couple 
 of hours, but this did not appear to comfort anybody. 
 
 " I believe this horse has no idea where he is going, and 
 is walking merely to keep himself warm," said Mr. Chiv- 
 erley. " I should like to get out and follow his example.' 1 
 
 "Don't think of such a thing, Harry!" exclaimed his 
 wife. " You will get your feet wet and soaked and per- 
 haps frozen." 
 
 " And cut off," added Mr. Chiverley. " Thank you. 
 I will remain in the wagon with alacrity." 
 
 The responsibility of the comfort and perhaps the 
 safety of his friends began to press upon the doctor. It 
 was getting dark, and the situation was grave. What to do 
 the doctor did not know. It was as well to let the horse 
 go his own way as to turn him in another direction. All 
 ways seemed equally to lead into the heart of the woods. 
 
 Tears were in Mrs. Chiverley's eyes, but she turned her 
 face away from Ardis. Nothing could be more dreadful 
 than fairy-land! Even the beauty that had made the 
 present scene more terrible to her. There was no beauty 
 now ; everything was cold, pale, spectral, and awful ! 
 
 Even the courage of Ardis began to give way. At any 
 moment their progress might be stopped. What could 
 they do for a fire? What could they do for anything? 
 Would it be possible for Dr. Lester to procure assistance? 
 
 Cream-o'-Tartar now pulled the party up a slight ascent 
 and then he turned into an open space. 
 
 " A clearing! " cried Ardis. " Whose can it be? " 
 
 " Clearing ! " exclaimed the doctor. " Do you see that 
 mass of trees in front of us? That is where I live. This 
 is the high road. Cream-o' -Tartar has brought us through, 
 without making a mistake! " 
 
 " Hurrah for the good old physic! " cried Mr. Chiverley. 
 And, without a word, his wife fell crying upon Ardis' 
 shoulder. 
 
242 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 T COULD not have supposed," said Mr. Chiverley, 
 
 1 as he awkwardly got down from the spring wagon 
 in front of Dr. Lester's little house, " that my legs could 
 get themselves so uncommonly stiff. The effects of semi- 
 tropical air are truly wonderful ! But I thought you were 
 going to take us to those ruins, doctor. Have you changed 
 your mind? " 
 
 " Not at all," said Dr. Lester, who was - now on the 
 ground. " But you must first come in here, and get your- 
 selves warm." 
 
 The party were soon clustered around a great bed of 
 embers in the fire-place. An armful of brushwood upon 
 these soon made a crackling blaze ; and then Dr. Lester 
 left them to thaw, as he termed it, while he went over to 
 the other house to attend to the fires there. 
 
 " Don't forget dear old Cream-o'-Tartar ! " cried Ardis. 
 " Give him his supper before you do anything else. I wish 
 I had a pound of sugar to give him, to show my gratitude. 
 But I will prove that some other time." 
 
 Cream-o'-Tartar's wants were soon attended to, and the 
 party around the fire perceived through the window Dr. 
 Lester, hard at work with a big hoe, making a path through 
 the snow from his door to the remains of the old mansion- 
 house. 
 
 Mr. Chiverley seized his hat. " He must not do that 
 all by himself/' said he ; and hurrying out of the door 
 with the stiffness entirely departed from his legs, asked 
 the doctor for something with which he could help him. 
 
 " I could not find anything but this old hoe," said the 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 243 
 
 other, " but if you choose to take it, I will go in and build 
 up the fires/' 
 
 It was now so dark that Mr. Chiverley could scarcely 
 follow the footprints which the doctor had made. But the 
 path was finished as the doctor came out, and then the 
 two went back for the ladies. 
 
 In a few minutes the little company, preceded by the 
 doctor with a lantern, reached the back piazza of the old 
 house. When the doctor opened the door they entered 
 a large kitchen with a wood fire blazing in an enormous 
 fire-place. 
 
 " Here," said Dr. Lester, " is where we shall cook and 
 eat. Next to this is what used to be the dining-room. 
 The little furniture we saved from the fire was put in 
 there ; and in a closet are stored away a lot of pillows a d 
 blankets and sheets, which I leave to you ladies to make 
 use of. There is a small room opening from that which 
 my uncle used as a study. It is pretty well dismantled, 
 for I have taken all the books over to my place. But 
 there is a large couch there on which Miss Ardis can pos- 
 sibly make herself comfortable. My accommodations are 
 pretty rough, but I think you will be better off here than 
 in a snowed-up train." 
 
 When the doctor had lighted his lamp and had shown 
 his rooms, his guests were surprised that the old ruin 
 should still contain such apartments. 
 
 " Pretty shabby," said the doctor, " but occasionally I 
 have had some one here to sleep, and from time to time 
 I have put the doors and windows in order." 
 
 " I call this truly jolly," said Mr. Chiverley. " I wonder, 
 doctor, that you do not come over here and live yourself, 
 and have three rooms instead of one." 
 
 " Thank you," said the doctor, " but I prefer staying 
 where I am. My room is large, and my house has a good 
 
244 ARDlS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 roof to it. I reserve dilapidations for my friends. And 
 now, if you please, we will go to work and get our supper." 
 
 Four persons better adapted to a gypsy style of house- 
 keeping could scarcely have been found. The doctor had 
 laid in a good supply of provisions. The coffee was soon 
 boiling, the ham frizzling, bread toasting, and eggs slip- 
 ping from shell to pan. Mrs. Chiverley was charmed with 
 the great open fire-place and the iron cranes on which to 
 hang pots. 
 
 "A true artist," she said, "should always cook at a fire 
 like this." 
 
 The table was spread with the doctor's stock of crockery, 
 and though the gentlemen sat upon a barrel supported by 
 two boxes, no cooks ever ate a meal of their own cooking 
 with more relish, nor were louder in its praises. 
 
 After supper a great fire was built up, and the little 
 party gathered around it, and the doctor went over to his 
 house, quickly returning with a demijohn and a small jar. 
 
 "A ruin like this," said he, "is incomplete without 
 spirits, and I have here some old peach brandy, which 
 when I pull out this cork will fill these gloomy halls with 
 the invisible ghosts of departed fruit." 
 
 At this sentiment there was a general hand-clapping, 
 and Mrs. Chiverley wanted to know what was in the jar. 
 
 " Honey," said the doctor. 
 
 "And what do you do with honey? " she asked. 
 
 '" I will show you," was the answer. The doctor there- 
 upon produced four glasses, and put into each a small 
 quantity of the liquid honey. Then he poured in peach 
 brandy and stirred up the mixture. "Now," said he, 
 " you shall taste our celebrated ' peach and honey,' which 
 the present generation does not know much about, but 
 which, better than anything else, will keep off the effects 
 of a long drive through the snow and cold." 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 245 
 
 " Doctor," said Mr. Chiverley, when he had taken a few- 
 sips, " I now begin to feel as if there was such a thing as 
 the sunny South." 
 
 The feelings of vexation and disappointment which this 
 enforced stoppage had caused to Ardis had now nearly 
 disappeared. The doctor seemed so hopeful about Roger 
 and in such good spirits that her natural disposition to 
 look upon the better side of things was encouraged. Had 
 she known that the doctor's pleasure in having her for a 
 guest, in ministering to her wants, and in any way pro - 
 moting her comfort, would have put him in good spirits, 
 no matter what damages were threatening other people, 
 she might not have been so much encouraged. 
 
 When the ladies had arranged the bedrooms, and the 
 gentlemen had had a smoke before the kitchen fire, the 
 doctor bade his guests good-night, although it was still early 
 in the evening. When he had gone, the others remained 
 around the hearth, unwilling to leave the glowing blaze. 
 Suddenly Ardis sprang to her feet and put out the light. 
 
 " Why did you do that? " exclaimed the Chiverleys in a 
 breath. 
 
 " Hush ! " said Ardis. " I saw through the window two 
 men ride up to the doctor's door. It would never do for 
 anybody to see a light in here. We should have thought 
 of that and have closed the shutters, if there are any." 
 
 The doctor was astonished and somewhat alarmed when 
 he opened his door, and the light of his lamp fell upon 
 Messrs. Skitt and Cruppledean. 
 
 "You didn't expect any visitors on a night like this! " 
 cried Skitt. " But it is jolly being out with the snow, and 
 the moon, and all that." 
 
 " Come in, gentlemen, come in," said the doctor, en- 
 deavoring to conceal his anxiety. 
 
 " Before we go in," said Cruppledean, " I want to tell 
 
246 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 you, doctor, that there is somebody in that old house. 
 I saw a light there, and it was suddenly put out. That 
 sort of thing means no good, and if you will give us each 
 a club we'll go over with you and help you rout out the 
 beggars tramps most likely." 
 
 "Come in, gentlemen," cried the doctor earnestly. 
 " There are no tramps hereabouts, and if any unfortunates 
 have taken refuge in those ruins, I shall not disturb them 
 to-night." 
 
 "Very good of you," said Cruppledean, reluctantly 
 entering. "And most likely they'll break into your house 
 to-night." 
 
 "No fear of that!" said the doctor, closing the door. 
 " Sit down, gentlemen, and warm your toes. Nobody will 
 take the trouble to break into my house." 
 
 "That may be," growled Cruppledean, "but if I were 
 in your place I wouldn't go to bed until I had found out 
 who the sneaking rascals are." 
 
 " The way to properly put yourself in my place," said 
 the doctor, smiling " is to sit down, and take a pipe." 
 
 The three men sat down before the fire, but Crupple- 
 dean did not seem to enjoy it. His features wore an air 
 of discontent, and with his elbows on his knees he puffed 
 vigorously at his pipe and said nothing. 
 
 "Doctor, when did you hear from Dunworth?" asked 
 Skitt. " You seem to be the only person with whom he 
 has any communication." 
 
 "The last letter I received from him," said the doctor, 
 "was the one of which I spoke to you. I judged from 
 that, as you may remember, that it was his intention soon 
 to return." 
 
 " I wish he would do it," said Skitt. " Our meals are 
 getting worse and worse, and we can't stand it, you know. 
 If Dunworth doesn't turn up soon, I shall get old Miss 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 247 
 
 Airpenny to corae back to us. And if old Miss Airpenny 
 comes the servants vow they will go. And then we'll have 
 to get in a new lot. And there's no knowing what sort 
 they'll be thieves, most likely. When you write to Dun- 
 worth, I wish you'd tell him that." 
 
 The doctor smiled, but before he could answer Crup- 
 pledean broke his silence. " Now really, doctor," he said, 
 " I don't think you are acting fair by your neighbors. 
 " It's not half an hour's walk from here to Dunworth's, 
 and the tramps that take up their lodgings in your old 
 ruins are more likely to go to our place to do the stealing 
 than to do it here. Come, now, let's each of us take a 
 stick of this firewood and go there and rout them out." 
 And he pushed back his chair. 
 
 " No, sir," said the doctor. " If Judas Iscariot and Bill 
 Sykes were in that house, I would not rout them out on 
 a night like this." 
 
 Cruppledean gave an unintelligible growl, pulled up his 
 chair to the fire, and fell again to puffing in silence. 
 
 Skitt now began to send more messages to Dunworth, 
 and these became so many and so varied that the doctor 
 expostulated. 
 
 " If I go into all those particulars," he said, " I shall 
 have to send him a treatise." 
 
 " Oh, I don't believe you'll mind telling him all that, 
 doctor," said Skitt. " It runs along together, you know, 
 and he ought to know it." 
 
 " Doctor," said Cruppledean, suddenly, " one thing you 
 really should do. You ought to go over there and see if 
 those beggars have any matches, about them. If you 
 don't take away their matches, as like as not they'll set fire 
 to that old place, and burn down your house as well." 
 
 " I am not afraid," said the doctor. " That old house 
 has been burned as much as it ever will be." 
 
248 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 " Well, then," cried Cruppledean, impatiently, " may a 
 man go over there and take a look at the rascals so that 
 he'll know them if he sees them prowling about his place? 
 I am not afraid to go by myself." 
 
 Skitt now arose. " Come on, Cruppledean," he said. 
 " It is time for us to go home. Don't bother your head 
 about tramps. And it's as like as not you didn't see a 
 light over there, anyway." 
 
 "Yes, I did," said Cruppledean, doggedly, as he went 
 out to his horse. 
 
 The doctor stood at his door until the two men had 
 ridden out of the yard ; and then he went back to his fire. 
 
 When they were out on the road Cruppledean turned 
 to his companion. " Skitt," said he, " let's ride back to 
 the other side of that old house, and see who is in there." 
 
 " Come on," said his companion, " and let the old house 
 alone. Now, really, Cruppledean, haven't you any sense 
 in your skull? Couldn't you see that Dr. Lester knew 
 who was in that house? " 
 
 "Why didn't he say so, then?" said Cruppledean. 
 
 Skitt laughed. " Because he didn't want anybody else 
 to know. But I know." 
 
 " Really? " cried Cruppledean. 
 
 " Yes," said the other. " I could see it by the way the 
 doctor spoke and acted. It's Dunworth! " 
 
 " Dunworth ! " cried the other. " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " I mean," said Skitt, " that he has never been away at 
 all, but has been hiding in that house all the time, and 
 Dr. Lester has been keeping him posted about what has 
 been going on. That is the reason I sent him all those 
 messages. Of course I didn't expect the doctor to write 
 them." 
 
 Cruppledean threw back his head and laughed with 
 such vigor and suddenness that his horse started. " This 
 
ARDIS CLA VRRDEV, 
 
 249 
 
 is a go! " he cried. " Now, look here, Skitt, isn't this just 
 like these Americans?" 
 
 "Well," said Skitt, "there are other people besides 
 Americans who do that sort of thing. I have read of a 
 man in London who went away from his wife and family, 
 and wasn't heard of for twenty years ; and all that time 
 he was living in a house just across the street, and watch- 
 ing his family through a telescope." 
 
 "Do you suppose Dunworth is doing that?" asked 
 Cruppledean, angrily. 
 
 "Oh, no," said Skitt; "he isn't that kind, and I don't 
 believe he will stay away for twenty years, either. I think 
 what I said about letting the servants go and filling up 
 the house with a pack of thieves will fetch him ! " 
 
 Cruppledean was now highly amused. " Do you know 
 what I've a mind to do? " he cried. " To-morrow I'll ride 
 over there, going round by the back where the doctor 
 won't see me, and I'll walk straight into that old house 
 without knocking, and I'll say to him: * Mr. Dunworth, 
 would you bring the young cattle up to the cow-yard so 
 that they can all be fed together in this weather, or do you 
 wish to still keep them apart?' It'll be great fun to see 
 how he looks when I say that to him, just as if I had known 
 all along that he was there." 
 
 "If you know what's good for you," said Skitt, "you'll 
 let Dunworth alone. And, what's more, don't let us say 
 a word to Parchester about this. He has been putting on 
 airs lately, keeping an eye on things as if he expected to 
 come into the property. And it will be great fun when 
 he finds out that all the time Dunworth has been keeping 
 an eye on him." 
 
 "It's larks!" cried Cruppledean. "And we'll shut up 
 like oysters before old Parch! " 
 
 For an hour Dr. Lester sat by his fire, but steadily look- 
 
250 ARDIS CLA VERDEN. 
 
 ing out of the window over the snow-covered ground to 
 the back of the old house, for he had suspicions concern- 
 ing the young student of farming. When he felt satisfied 
 that Cruppledean would not come back he went to bed. 
 
 This act had been performed long before by his guests 
 without any light except that afforded by the moon. 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 251 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 THE next morning the sky was bright, the sun wa s 
 warm, and there was a great thaw. Everywhere the 
 snow was softening and melting and dripping, and trick- 
 ling away in little streams wherever it could find a channel. 
 It was like early spring to Mr. Chiverley, who was not 
 familiar with the South in winter, and he stood at the back 
 door of the house and sniffed the mild moist air. When 
 Dr. Lester came over to breakfast he did not express 
 much gratification. 
 
 " It means mud about a foot deep," he said, "and great 
 discomfort in getting about, and after the roads have all 
 been cut up into deep ruts and holes, they will be frozen 
 hard, and one might as well travel over an upturned curry- 
 comb. Our winters are very fickle." 
 
 "Do not call this winter," said Mr. Chiverley. "A 
 woman is as old as she looks, and the season is what it 
 seems. Please do not disturb that philosophy. I am 
 expecting the smell of violets when the snow melts from 
 that little mound." 
 
 " If the smell of fried ham does not prove attractive 
 enough to make you come in," cried Mrs. Chiverley, 
 "please close the door." 
 
 Very soon after breakfast Dr. Lester mounted Cream- 
 o'-Tartar, and rode to Bolton to find if there was any 
 chance of the travellers continuing their journey that after- 
 noon. He came back with the information that the roads 
 over the mountains were still blocked, but it was confi- 
 dently expected that trains would go through the next day. 
 
252 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 " Very good," said Ardis ; " we will go over to Wood- 
 bridge Station to-morrow, and if the train comes we will 
 take it. And remember, doctor, that you are to be one 
 of the party. Positively we cannot go without you ! " 
 
 To be shut up in a kitchen of a half-burned house on a 
 fine, bright day like this was irksome to the Chiverleys; 
 but walking was almost an impossibility, and it was, be- 
 sides, desirable that they should not show themselves. 
 The doctor brought over a lot of old novels, and with 
 these they quieted their impatient souls. 
 
 Ardis did not care to read, and she spent most of the 
 morning looking out of the window. It might be a strange 
 thing for her friends to be shut up in this place, but she 
 felt that it was a very much stranger thing for her to be 
 here ! But little more than a mile away in a straight line, 
 though much further by the road, a piece of rising ground 
 was topped by a mass of trees, their bare topmost branches 
 showing plainly against the sky. That was Bald Hill. 
 There was her home; there was her father; here was she. 
 Tears filled her eyes as her soul reached out itself toward 
 her father. And yet if she went to him she must give up 
 the enterprise of love and duty which she had undertaken. 
 She did not fear that her father would forbid the continu- 
 ance of her journey, but she knew that when he under- 
 stood its object he would go with her. This must not be. 
 
 In the afternoon she saw the doctor standing in the open 
 door; and, after looking out to see that no one was on the 
 road, she wrapped herself in a shawl and ran over to him. 
 
 " There is no one to see me," she said, " and if there 
 were I don't believe I should be recognized with this shawl 
 over my head. People might think I was Betty, your 
 cook." 
 
 The doctor smiled. " Or a wagon-load of corn fodder," 
 he said. " You look as much like one as the other." 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 253 
 
 Arclis laughed, and began to walk round the room. 
 
 "Do you remember, doctor," she said, "how I used to 
 go about this room when I was a little girl? And the 
 room does not seem to have changed at all, except that 
 some things look a little older." 
 
 "Alas! " said the doctor, "some things will grow old." 
 
 Probably he would have moralized a little more had not 
 Ardis uttered a sudden exclamation. She had stopped 
 before a pair of small top boots which hung against the 
 wall, well worn and somewhat dusty. 
 
 " Why, doctor ! " cried Ardis, " I positively believe that 
 these are my riding-boots! " 
 
 A blush so deep that it showed itself through his tanned 
 and weather-beaten skin rose to the doctor's face, but he 
 was behind Ardis, and she did not see it. " Yes," he said, 
 coming forward, " they are your boots. Old Miles, who 
 had them to mend, brought them here one day and asked 
 me to carry them ever to you, he having one of his rheu- 
 matic fits ; but the patches he had put over those cracked 
 places were so rough and coarse I did not believe that 
 you would wear the boots, and I had intended doctoring 
 them a little myself before I took them to you." 
 
 " You ! " exclaimed Ardis. " You mend my boots ! " 
 
 "Yes," said the doctor, with a constrained laugh. "I 
 like that sort of work. With an adhesive substance I 
 have I can put a patch on a boot so that it will scarcely 
 be noticed." 
 
 " I am very glad you did not do it," said Ardis. " I 
 would not like to think of such a thing as your mending 
 my boots. Those patches are quite good enough for the 
 country in bad weather;" and then continued, "by the 
 way, doctor, I should like to have those boots now. They 
 are good and thick and will keep my feet dry in this 
 weather much better than those I have on." 
 
254 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 " You should stay in the house as much as you can, 
 Miss Ardis," said the doctor, " if you don't want your 
 friends to stop here and call on you. But if you are dis- 
 creet you can take a little fresh air without being noticed, 
 and I will bring the boots over to you." 
 
 Ardis soon ran back to the old house, and when she 
 had gone the doctor took down the boots, brushed off the 
 dust, and then proceeded to carefully anoint them with a 
 waterproof preparation from a stone bottle. As he sat at 
 work rubbing the oily fluid into the pores of the leather 
 with a patience and intelligence which could not be ex- 
 pected of any servant of that region he remembered his 
 curious thrill of pleasure when the old, rheumatic cobbler 
 put those little boots into his hands. He also called to mind 
 how he had afterward looked with indignation at the coarse 
 patches, and how the happy thought had come to him that 
 he would himself cover with smooth, neatly fitting bits of 
 leather these cracks in the boots of Ardis ; how he had 
 paid the old cobbler and had hung them up in his room ; 
 how day after day he had looked on them and resolved 
 that on the morrow he would begin the true labor of love, 
 and that, although she would never know it, he would with 
 his own hands do something that would be of service to 
 Ardis. He remembered, too, how he never had begun 
 his task, knowing that when the boots had been put in 
 proper order they ought to be returned to their owner and 
 feeling each day more and more reluctant to part with 
 them. And now Ardis had seen them, had suspected 
 nothing, and was going to tramp about in them a little at 
 the back of the old house, and if not one drop of snow- 
 water penetrated through the leather it would be due to 
 the loving earnestness with which he rubbed in that com- 
 pound. 
 
 Ardis thought that the doctor was a long time coming 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 55 
 
 with the boots; but after he had brought them she en- 
 joyed her tramp down a smooth walk of unbroken snow in 
 the garden of the old house, made secure from observa- 
 tion by a hedge of evergreens ; and not a drop of snow 
 water came through the leather to her feet. And when 
 she came in she lent the boots to Mrs. Chiverley, who 
 was well pleased to lay by her novel for a breath of outer 
 air. 
 
 It was ten o'clock that night when the little party re- 
 tired to their rooms, but even then Ardis did not go to 
 bed. She sat at her window looking out over the land- 
 scape. The moon, somewhat past the full, was shining 
 brightly and far away lay Bald Hill, with its fringe of tree- 
 tops against the sky. 
 
 For half an hour she sat and looked out. Then she 
 got up and listened. All was quiet in the old house. 
 She looked across the yard; the doctor's little home was 
 dark. Now she began to busy herself. The room was 
 lighted only by the moon and by a faint glow of embers 
 from the hearth, but she was able to find what sjiie wanted. 
 She took off her shoes, and replaced them with the riding 
 boots which the doctor had so carefully anointed; she 
 put on a thick jacket, and over that a dark waterproof, 
 the hood of which enveloped her head. Then she stepped 
 quietly to the window, raised it, looked this way and that, 
 and, with an ease that showed that this was not the first 
 time in her life that she had done such a thing, she got out 
 of the window, dropping gently upon the snow, but with 
 sufficient force to make a light crushing sound. Fearful 
 that this might have awakened the Chiverleys she stood 
 still for a moment and listened. But hearing nothing to 
 indicate that the slumber of her friends had been disturbed 
 she quietly pulled down the window and made her way 
 across the yard, keeping as far from the doctor's house 
 
256 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 as possible. When she reached the road she crossed it, 
 and climbed the fence on the other side, and then started 
 straight across the fields toward Bald Hill. The night 
 was cold and frosty, and the snow which had been melt- 
 ing all day was covered with a crust which, however, was 
 not strong enough to bear the weight of Ardis, whose feet 
 broke through it at every step. But it was not deep, and 
 on the ridges and higher portions of the field, which had 
 lain all day in the sunshine, the snow was almost gone, 
 although the tangled dead grass and the stubble often 
 made her high boots of as much service to her here as in 
 the snow. 
 
 Straight on she went toward the rising ground on which 
 stood her home. When she came to a fence she climbed 
 it ; in the lower places where the snow was deepest she 
 crushed boldly through it. Once she came to a deep gully 
 and felt obliged to go around the head of it, but reaching 
 another and a shallower one, she stopped for a moment 
 and seeing how far it extended on either hand she gath- 
 ered her waterproof tightly about her, slid to the bottom, 
 plunging into snow which came nearly to the top of her 
 boots, and then briskly clambered up the opposite bank, 
 finding it necessary, however, to occasionally use her 
 hands. 
 
 She continued her course, now through the apple orchard, 
 then over the lawn, and among the great oaks which stood 
 about the house. All was quiet, almost deathlike. Heavy 
 shadows alternated with wide spaces of moonlit snow. 
 Nowhere a sign or sound of life. Major Claverden kept 
 only hunting dogs, and these in such weather were safely 
 housed in a distant barn. Midnight intruders were not 
 expected at Bald Hill. 
 
 A path had been cleared around the house, and on this 
 Ardis stepped noiselessly to the front piazza and ascended 
 
A RDIS CL A VERDEX. 257 
 
 the steps. There was a window at one end of the piazza 
 which opened into the library and which was seldom 
 fastened, for when there had been smoking in that room 
 her father liked to slightly lower the upper sash. She 
 opened the shutters and, as she hoped and expected, she 
 found she could raise the lower sash. Lifting it slowly she 
 clambered into the room, and slipping off her boots she 
 stepped quickly to the fireplace where a great mass of 
 coals twinkled in thousands of little stars through the 
 white ashes that had been piled over them. Here she sat 
 down and warmed herself. Her vigorous exercise had 
 put her body in a glow, but her hands and face were cold. 
 She would not have enjoyed so much the gentle heat 
 coming from this banked-up bed of coals had she known 
 that the man who had followed her from the old half- 
 ruined house all the way to Bald Hill, keeping at a dis- 
 creet distance, but never losing sight of her until she had 
 entered the library window, was now standing on a bit of 
 bare ground behind one of the oak trees on the lawn 
 stamping his feet, and beating himself with his arms to 
 keep from becoming chilled. This man had heard the 
 slight crunch made by the breaking of the snow-crust 
 when Ardis had dropped from her bedroom window. He 
 had seen her cross the yard, and he had divined her pur- 
 pose. As quickly as possible preparing himself for a 
 walk through the snow, he had followed her that he might 
 protect and help her in case there should be need for it ; 
 but intending not to intrude himself upon her unless there 
 should be need. Once, when she slipped down into the 
 gully, accidentally as he thought, he had rushed forward 
 to her assistance, but she so quickly scrambled up the 
 other side and continued on her way that he understood 
 what she had done and followed her example when he 
 reached the gully. Shivering and stamping he would stay 
 
258 AKDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 outside until she reappeared, or until he felt assured that 
 she had no intention of reappearing. 
 
 The little white hands that were spread out over the 
 fire of hot ashes were soon warmed, and then Ardis arose, 
 and with noiseless tread stepped out of the open library 
 door into the hall. The moonlight coming in at a window 
 over the landing of the stairway, enabled her to see her 
 way, and she quietly went up stairs. The door of the 
 front room on the right of the upper hall was slightly ajar, 
 and through it came a long line of pale light. This was 
 her father's room; the door was never entirely closed, 
 and in it a little night-lamp always burned. 
 
 Ardis noiselessly approached the door, and opening it 
 slowly and gently, she looked in. Her father was asleep 
 soundly asleep as his low and regular breathing testi- 
 fied. His ruddy, upturned features were distinctly visi- 
 ble. Ardis gently drew near and seated herself upon the 
 corner of a chair which stood close by the bedside ; then 
 leaning forward she steadfastly looked upon her father's 
 face. What she would do, what she would say, how she 
 would attempt to explain her presence there should he 
 suddenly awake, she did not consider. She simply sat, 
 and looked upon his face. 
 
 For ten or fifteen minutes Ardis remained thus, leaning 
 slightly forward and gazing upon her father's features, 
 calm in sleep. Then she bent her face down close to his, 
 and gently kissed him on the cheek. There was a slight 
 twitching in the muscles of his face and she drew back 
 quickly; but, almost immediately, the regular breathing 
 began again, and he slept on. 
 
 Quietly rising, Ardis now moved toward the door. 
 There she stopped, and, turning, looked back for a few 
 moments at her father. Then she went out, leaving the 
 door as she had found it. What she had done was a very 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 259 
 
 little thing, but it was the sole reason for which in the 
 middle of the night she had trudged through the snow to 
 Bald Hill. 
 
 When she reached the lower hall she was struck with 
 an idea. Going to the library she found the match box 
 in its regular place on the mantel-piece, and igniting a 
 match by touching it to an exposed ember, so that no 
 crackling should be heard, she lighted a candle in one of 
 the old-fashioned silver candlesticks which stood on each 
 end of the mantel-piece. With this heavy piece of family 
 plate in her hand she went over all the lower part of the 
 house, omitting only the store-room, the door of which 
 was locked. When she had satisfied herself that every- 
 thing was in order, and that the comfort of her father and 
 his guest, the general, was properly attended to she re- 
 entered the library, blew out the light, and when the little 
 spark on the wick had entirely died away, she replaced 
 the candlestick on the mantel-piece. 
 
 Her feet were now cold, having so long been covered 
 only by stockings, and she stood and warmed them at the 
 fire. Outside the man behind the oak tree kept stamping 
 his feet, but did not succeed in keeping them very warm. 
 Through the half-closed slats of the shutters he had seen 
 the light as Ardis passed from room to room, and had 
 thought how easy it would be for a robber to rob the Bald 
 Hill house. Fortunate therefore it was that there were no 
 robbers. Thinking thus he stamped his feet, and did not 
 wonder that Ardis was loth to leave that comfortable 
 mansion. 
 
 When Ardis had warmed her feet, she went to the 
 window, put on her boots, raised the sash, got out, closed 
 the window and shutters, and then, with as little creaking 
 of boots and boards as was possible, she made her way 
 along the piazza and down the steps. 
 
260 ARDIS CLA VERDE X. 
 
 " Now, 1 ' she said to herself, as she reached the ground, 
 " I do not see why any one should know that I have been 
 here." The reason she did not see was the opacity of an 
 oak tree. 
 
 When she had crossed the lawn and entered the apple 
 orchard the man behind the tree began to follow her. 
 She went straight away across the fields, but not in the 
 track by which she had come; for making a slight diverg- 
 ence she believed she could avoid the gullies. She now 
 began to feel a little nervous. When she had been going 
 to Bald Hill, her object, and the fact that she was ap- 
 proaching her home, had sustained her courage. But now 
 she was going to a strange place, and it was very, very 
 late. If she should meet a man or a dog, or suddenly 
 find herself benumbed by cold, what would become of 
 her? Steadily behind her followed the man. He knew 
 what would become of her should danger threaten. 
 
 When Ardis reached her bed-room window, the sill of 
 which was some four feet from the ground, she found that 
 she could not raise the lower sash. The projection of the 
 frame work around the panes on the outside was so slight 
 that her fingers could obtain but little hold, and she could 
 not reach the upper part of the sash. She was about to 
 relinquish the attempt in shivering despair when a low 
 voice beside her said: "Allow me to raise the window, 
 Miss Ardis." 
 
 If she had not known the voice she would have screamed 
 in fright. "Dr. Lester! " she said. "Is it possible that I 
 have awakened you by trying to get in at this window? " 
 
 The doctor smiled, and still depressing his voice for 
 fear of awakening the Chiverley's, he said: "People can- 
 not get into my houses without my knowing it. And now, 
 let me help you in." 
 
 With one foot in his hand, as if she were mounting a 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 261 
 
 horse, Ardis was raised to the window-sill, and entered 
 her room. Before closing the window she leaned out, 
 and said: "I think it is right, doctor, that I should tell 
 you that I have been to Bald Hill. I could not pass so 
 near my home without peeping in on father, and I did 
 that and bade him good-by, although he did not know it, 
 being fast asleep. I slipped away by myself because I 
 was sure you would all cry out against such an undertak- 
 ing. But I went there and came back without meeting 
 even an old hare. My only mishap was not being able to 
 open this window, and I am very sorry that I made you 
 come out of your house to open it for me." 
 
 " That is a matter of no consequence," said the doctor. 
 " But you must not stay any longer at that open window. 
 Good-night." 
 
 Dr. Lester had just opened his door when he heard a 
 step behind him, and, turning suddenly, he beheld Bo- 
 netti. As the doctor started back in amazement the other 
 said in a high whisper: "I'll be mighty glad to get inside 
 and warm myself, doctor, for I am pretty nigh froze." 
 And saying this, he immediately entered the house. 
 
 The doctor followed. " Bonnet ! " he exclaimed, " what 
 does this mean ? What are you doing here ? " 
 
 Bonetti drew a chair close to the fireplace, in which 
 some ends of logs were still smouldering. " Well," said 
 he, " I have been to Bald Hill with you and Miss Ardis 
 Ciaverden. When I saw you followin' her across the 
 fields I reckoned that you were goin' along to take care 
 of her without her knovvin' it. So I followed you to take 
 care of you." 
 
 " Of me? " said the doctor, so agitated that he had not 
 thought of sitting down. " And how did you come to see 
 Miss Ardis? What were you doing here? " 
 
 "Yes," said Bonetti, extending his feet dangerously 
 
262 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 close to the embers, " I went along to take care of you, 
 for if you'd met one drunken feller keepin' Christmas be- 
 fore the time you'd ha' been just as likely to meet two, 
 and then your hands would have been a little too full. 
 And how did I know it was Miss Ardis? That was easy 
 enough to anybody who had ever seen her walk. But I 
 would have known it was her any way from havin' seen 
 her and that painter gentleman and his wife all sittin' to- 
 gether in the kitchen of the old house." 
 
 " Bonnet! " exclaimd the doctor. 
 
 " Yes," said Bonetti, " I came up not long after supper, 
 thinkin' I'd have a little talk with you, and when I opened 
 your door you wasn't here ; and when I saw a path through 
 the snow from this house to the other one, and a regular 
 dug-out path, too, such as you wouldn't have made for 
 yourself, I began to wonder and I went over to see what 
 it meant. The shutters were all shut, but there was a 
 chink in one of them, and I looked through, and there 
 was you four sittin' before the fire." 
 
 " Bonnet," said the doctor, " that was a low-down, con- 
 temptible thing for you to do." 
 
 " No, it was not, said Bonetti. " I wanted to see who 
 was in there, and how could I tell that I oughtn't to look 
 till I had looked ? You may bet your life that I jumped 
 when I did see who was there! I didn't look in no more, 
 for I don't make a business of peepin' through chinks, 
 but I went into that old garden where I could walk about 
 without bein' seen, and I tramped up and down in a 
 trodden path thinkin' and thinkin' and thinkin', and tryin' 
 to work out the toughest puzzle that had ever been set be- 
 fore me since the day I was born. And put it this way or 
 that just as much as I pleased there was only one way 
 in which I could work it out. There was Miss Ardis 
 Claverden almost within rifle shot of her own home where 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 263 
 
 she was born and raised, and not goin' there, and shuttin' 
 herself up in that old house ; and there was that painter 
 I forget his name and his wife; and there was you. 
 Now it stands to reason there was only one way to work 
 that out, and that was that you'd been playin' a mighty 
 deep game on me, and on most other people too, and 
 that you and Miss Ardis was goin' to run off and get mar- 
 ried, and that them two had come with her to help along, 
 and that none of you was goin' to show at Bald Hill till 
 the knot was tied." 
 
 "What outrageous and abominable stuff!" cried Dr. 
 Lester. 
 
 " Well," said Bonetti, " that was the only way I could 
 work it out; and I made up my mind that when you 
 came back to your house I'd come up to you, fair and 
 square, and ask you about it, and if I hadn't worked it 
 out right you could say so. But you was an awful long 
 time comin' out, and after walkin' up and down and 
 keepin' a watch upon the house until near the middle of 
 the night, and then comin' up close to the back door, and 
 hearin' you all still talkin' inside, I went to the stable and 
 sat down alongside of the horse so as to get warmed up. 
 His hide was mighty comfortable to put my hands on, and 
 I stayed longer than I thought to, and when I come out 
 the first thing I saw was a woman jumpin' on the snow 
 from a lower window. You c,an bet that I stood stock 
 still and kept shady when I saw that. Then she put off 
 and got into the field, and of course I knew who it was ; 
 then put you come, quiet, and followed her. I let you get 
 a little on, and I followed you, as I told you before. Now 
 I couldn't work out what she was goin' off to Bald Hill 
 for. At first I thought she had repented her bargain, and 
 was runnin' home to her father. But I soon considered 
 that she wasn't the kind of a girl to go back on anybody." 
 
264 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 The doctor here made an impatient gesture, and seemed 
 about to interrupt, but he did not, and Bonetti continued. 
 
 " By the time she had got into the Bald Hill house 
 and mighty neat she did it too I had made up my mind 
 that she had gone home to get something she wanted to 
 take with her. I reckoned she'd be out pretty soon be- 
 cause I saw you waitin', so I waited too. It was cold 
 work, but I reckoned I could stand it as long as you 
 could ; and when she come out, havin' got her breastpin 
 or her ring, or whatever it was she was after, I followed 
 after you both and saw you help her in the window. Now 
 then, doctor, if I haven't worked it out the right way, 
 what is the right way? " 
 
 Dr. Lester, who had been standing all this time, now 
 sat down before the fire. He was very angry with Bonetti, 
 and would have been glad to refuse to gratify his anxiety. 
 But the man had seen so much it would be wise to secure 
 his secrecy by telling him everything. Therefore, in as 
 few words as possible he stated the facts in the case. 
 "And now Bonnet," said the doctor, "you are not to 
 breathe to your family, or to any one, that you have seen 
 Miss Ardis and her friends here ; or that you know any- 
 thing about their movements or their intentions. As for 
 me it is of no importance whether I stay here or go away; 
 and if people think I am absent on Roger Dunworth's be- 
 half I have no objections. But they must know nothing 
 of the company with me. And, by-the-way, Bonnet, since 
 you have forced yourself into this matter, I shall get you 
 to do something for me. If Roger Dunworth should come 
 home while I am looking for him, or if you should hear 
 anything about him which I ought to know, I want you to 
 telegraph to me. I will give you the address." 
 
 So saying the doctor went to his desk and presently re- 
 turned with the address on a card. Bonetti took it. 
 
ARDIS CLATERDEN. 265 
 
 " Didman's Hotel, Atlanta, Georgia," he read. "That 
 I suppose, is the p'int you're goin' to operate from ?" 
 
 " Yes," said the doctor, " and remember this, Bonnet. 
 When Miss Ardis returns, successful or unsuccessful, she 
 will tell her father all that has happened, but he must not 
 hear a word of it from any other lips." 
 
 "All right!" said Bonetti. "Nobody shall hear of it 
 from me." He was silent for a moment, and then he 
 went on. " It does seem to me, Dr. Lester, that you 
 must love a girl most powerful when you do all you're 
 cloin' to help her to get the man she wants." 
 
 " Bonnet ! " exclaimed the doctor springing to his feet, 
 " I once told you to drop all that ! " 
 
 " Dropped it is," said the other, pushing back his chair 
 and extending his fingers with a jerk as if something hot 
 had fallen from them. " And now I think I'll go home. 
 If I hear anything about Dunworth I'll telegraph to you, 
 namin' no names. But I don't believe he'll be ketched 
 for a horse thief. He's too sharp for that." 
 
 " You may as well sleep here," said the doctor, " It is 
 very late, and you can have that lounge." 
 
 " No," said Bonetti. " I don't mind walkin' home, and 
 if the women folks should get up to-morrow mornin', and 
 find me away and no wood split, there might be a row. 
 Good night, and good luck to you ! " 
 
 The next day Cream-o'-Tartar, with some difficulty in 
 muddy places, drew our party to Woodbridge Station 
 where, in due time, a southern-bound train arrived and 
 took them on their journey. The doctor did not mount 
 the steps of the car until the train was on the point of 
 starting. He had been stroking the nose of his horse, 
 and talking to a man who was to take charge of him. 
 
 " I don't wonder, Dr. Lester," said Ardis, as they were 
 moving off, " that you wanted to say good-by to Cream- 
 
2 66 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 o'-Tartar. He is a good horse ; and when I come back 
 I am going to do something for him. I don't know what 
 it will be, but something for his comfort" 
 
 " Yes," said the doctor, " he is a good horse." And 
 then he dropped the subject. It was not for him to say 
 to Ardis that on the morning before he had sold Cream- 
 o'-Tartar to pay the expenses of this journey. 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 267 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 AT Didman's Hotel in Atlanta our party heard no news 
 of Roger Dunworth. That this should be so had 
 been considered among the strong possibilities; and no 
 time was lost in making preparations to carry out the plan 
 of campaign which had been agreed upon. After it had 
 been made plain that Roger had not gone to any other 
 place in the city, a letter was sent to the postmaster at 
 Breeville, announcing the approach in that direction of 
 friends of Mr. Dunworth ; and the next morning the party 
 set out on their search through a portion of the State un- 
 traversed by railroads. It was decided to proceed north- 
 ward toward Breeville, as it was supposed that Roger 
 would naturally make his way southward toward Atlanta, 
 where he had requested Dr. Lester to address him. At 
 all possible points inquiries were to be made and at 
 places where it might be thought proper notes were to be 
 left for Roger, or information for his benefit. 
 
 Two buggies were hired for the journey, each drawn by 
 a single horse. It was considered better to proceed in 
 this way, as in the search it would sometimes be neces- 
 sary for the party to separate. The travellers took with 
 them very little baggage, leaving their trunks at Atlanta, 
 and the clothes they wore were such as were suited to 
 rough work in all weathers. The doctor did not find it 
 necessary to make any change in his dress, but Mr. 
 Chiverley wore a gray flannel shirt and a soft, shapeless 
 hat. His wife considered herself quite ready for roughing 
 
268 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 it in an old woollen dress and a black straw hat tied on 
 with a veil. Ardis wore a suit in which she had been ac- 
 customed to tramp about Bald Hill in bad weather. Her 
 dnrk flannel dress was short, a silk handkerchief was tied 
 loosely around her neck, and her hair was tightly put up, 
 and almost concealed under a boy's felt hat. On her feet 
 she wore the boots which Dr. Lester had returned to her. 
 
 " Well! " cried Mr. Chiverley when he saw her. " You 
 are the young lady who advised us to bring our best 
 clothes down here so we could make an impression of re- 
 spectability." 
 
 "Certainly," said Ardis, "and if the time comes to 
 make such an impression we should feel badly if we had 
 to make it in this toggery. But for working purposes I 
 call this sort of thing quite suitable." 
 
 " You have made yourself look like a girl," said Mrs. 
 Chiverley, "while I resemble an old woman. I think I 
 shall take you for my daughter." 
 
 "Very good," said Ardis, "and when we get tired of 
 that we can change the relationship with the costume." 
 
 The party set out, with the two gentlemen in the lead- 
 ing buggy and Ardis driving Mrs. Chiverley in the other. 
 
 Their plan was to change about when they felt like it. 
 
 As they drove along Mr. Chiverley said to his compan- 
 ion: " I don't care to speak in this way before the ladies, 
 but since I have found that Mr. Dunworth has not made 
 his appearance in Atlanta where his letters were to be for- 
 warded, I have not been hopeful in regard to him. It is 
 now a long time since he left Breeville." 
 
 " The case does not look as well as I should like it to," 
 said the doctor, "but I don't despair. Roger Dunworth 
 is a peculiar fellow, and his travelling, especially in the 
 present instance, is likely to be different from the travel- 
 ling of any other man. For years he has been much inter- 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 269 
 
 ested in northern Georgia, and although this was not the 
 reason of his leaving home, I am sure it determined the 
 place of his exile. At college he was an ardent student, 
 and now he is an ardent farmer. If there is any better 
 way of doing things than as he does them he wants to 
 know it. With this object in view it would be of no use 
 or interest to him to travel on a high road direct to At- 
 lanta. He would naturally diverge in one direction and 
 another, and continue his observations as he made his 
 way south. I imagine that he may have an idea of settling 
 down here, and that he is investigating different localities 
 with that view." 
 
 " His present farm is a very good, one," said Mr. 
 Chiverley. 
 
 " Yes," said the doctor, " but he probably could make 
 more money here, and in his present state of mind he 
 might prefer to live here. I shall be very sorry if he 
 leaves us, for our country cannot afford to lose such a 
 man." 
 
 " I should say not," remarked the other. " We used to 
 see a good deal of him the summer we were at Bolton 
 and Bald Hill, and we both considered him a first-class 
 fellow. He went away in a fit of jealousy, didn't he ? " 
 
 " Jealousy or despair," said the doctor. 
 
 " Well," said Mr. Chiverley, " I don't approve of either 
 jealousy or despair, but if a man is liable to these things 
 I don't know any one more capable of bringing them on 
 than Miss Ardis Claverden." 
 
 " True ! " said the doctor. 
 
 After a silence of a few moments, Mr. Chiverley re- 
 marked: "No man could receive a higher compliment 
 than to have Ardis Claverden come down here on his ac- 
 count. Of course it is the motive which makes the action 
 valuable. As far as doing anything is concerned it would 
 
270 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 have been better to have sent two more men than to have 
 come herself and bring Mrs. Chiverley. 
 
 " I am not sure of that," said the doctor. " Miss Ardis 
 came down here to see that we did everything that could 
 be done ; and especially to see that we did not get dis- 
 couraged and give up." 
 
 " You may be right," said Mr. Chiverley. " It is pos- 
 sible we might have weakened at least I might but 
 with her with us I think there will be no weakening." 
 
 That day our friends heard nothing of Dun worth, but 
 this did not greatly disappoint them, as they were yet too 
 near Atlanta to expect much in the way of news of him. 
 They spent the night at a village, and in the morning pur- 
 sued their journey. On this day some detours were 
 made, in one instance the doctor walking several miles 
 across the country to a cross-roads post-office of which 
 he had been told. He enjoyed this opportunity of stretch- 
 ing his long legs, but when he rejoined his party he had 
 no news to give them. 
 
 Nothing of importance occurred the next day except 
 that about the middle of the afternoon one of the horses, 
 who had been a disappointment during the whole journey, 
 showed signs that his day's supply of strength was giving 
 out ; and they therefore found themselves obliged to stop 
 at a settlement some miles short of the place where they 
 expected to spend the night. 
 
 Ardis was very impatient at this delay. They were now 
 approaching a part of the country where news was to be 
 expected; and the town at which they had intended to 
 conclude their day's journey was a place of some import- 
 ance, where they might reasonably expect to learn some- 
 thing. An effort was made to get another horse, but there 
 were none to be had at this place. They hoped that in 
 the morning the horse would be able to carry them on. 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 271 
 
 The tavern at which they stopped was small but com- 
 fortable enough. The two ladies, with the books they had 
 brought with them, ensconced themselves in the dining- 
 room, where, although the weather was not cold a fire of 
 brushwood was crackling on the hearth. The doctor and 
 Mr. Chiverley went out for a tramp, partly for the sake of 
 the exercise and partly because they might chance upon 
 news of Dunworth at some farm-house or cross-roads 
 store. 
 
 Ardis soon tired of reading, and leaving Mrs. Chiverley 
 to the fire and her book, she went out on to a side piazza 
 which opened from the parlor. Outside it was much 
 more agreeable to her than in-doors. The sun had not 
 yet set, and the air was just beginning to be touched with 
 a gentle frostiness. She went in-doors, put on her hat 
 and jacket, and walked up and down the piazza. 
 
 While thus quieting her impatience by circulating her 
 blood three horsemen rode up to the tavern, and tying 
 their horses to a rack they entered a bar-room which was 
 in the front of the house on the ground floor. From the 
 end of the piazza, Ardis, having nothing else to look at, 
 watched these men as they dismounted and went into the 
 house. They were ordinary-looking men, plainly dressed, 
 and in appearance no wise interesting. In horses, even 
 if ordinary, Ardis was much more interested than in 
 ordinary men, and she, therefore, turned her attention to 
 the animals at the rack. Two of these horses might have 
 been good-enough beasts, but they had been ridden hard, 
 apparently for a long distance, and looked worn and tired. 
 The third horse, however, seemed fresh and in good con- 
 dition and as Ardis looked at him she thought what a fine 
 thing it would be if her party could get such a horse as that 
 with which to continue their journey instead of the one 
 which had caused them such delay. The animal might 
 
272 AKDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 not be a driving horse, and in all probability his owner 
 would not be willing to hire him ; but nevertheless she 
 would go down to look at him. 
 
 He was indeed a fine horse and very much opposed to 
 being tied to a rack. His companions stood quietly, their 
 heads down, but he moved about, stamping impatiently 
 and tossing his head from side to side as if he were look- 
 ing for some one to come and loose him. 
 
 While standing near the horse, but out of the way of his 
 sidelong movements, Ardis was joined by the proprietor 
 of the house, a pleasant little man who wore a straw hat 
 in December. 
 
 "Fine horse that, miss!" said he. "Good enough for 
 a general in the army! Man inside brought him down 
 from Whitefield, and I must say he stood the journey 
 better than them others. That's the way a horse with 
 blood in him shows what he's worth.'' 
 
 " The others appear to be very good horses,'' said Ardis. 
 
 " Yes," said the man, " but they don't begin to come 
 up to this fellow! He is a little damp on his legs and 
 flanks, but on the rest of him he hasn't turned a hair. If 
 I had the money I'd like to own that horse ! You might 
 almost think he was tryin' to say that he wants his supper, 
 and was a-wonderin' if his master was a-goin' to take him 
 back home or put him up here. I reck'n I'll go in and 
 inquire about that p'int myself." 
 
 Ardis still stood, looking at the horse. Gradually she 
 began to imagine that she had seen him before. She went 
 to the other side of him and made him stand around. 
 She now knew why he seemed familiar to her. He re- 
 sembled the horse on which she had once taken a wild 
 ride to drive back a runaway steer. That horse belonged 
 to Roger Dunworth, and it was the one, as she had been 
 told, on which he had taken his southern journey. There 
 
ARDIS CLAYERDEN. 273 
 
 were certain movements of this animal's head as he turned 
 to look at her which very forcibly recalled to her mind the 
 horse which she had mounted at Heatherley to go after 
 the steer. 
 
 The men now came out of the house and Ardis walked 
 away to the other side of the road, where there was a 
 broad foot-path. She strolled a short distance on this, 
 and then, turning, she saw that the men had not mounted, 
 but were walking over to a store at the other end of the 
 little settlement. 
 
 Her mind was now occupied by a rush of conjectures. 
 Could it be possible that this was Roger's horse? And 
 if so, how did these men get him? She did not believe 
 that Roger had sold him, for this she did not consider 
 likely. But if any evil had happened to Roger the horse 
 might have fallen into the hands of these men. 
 
 The men having now. entered the store, Ardis crossed 
 the road, and again approaching the horse, began to ex- 
 amine him more critically than before. He had upon him 
 a handsome brass-pomelled army saddle, and lifting the 
 flap of this, Ardis saw underneath, scratched boldly and 
 clearly on the leather, the letters " R. D." 
 
 "This is Roger's horse!" Ardis said almost aloud, 
 " and this is his saddle ! " And her heart began to beat 
 hard and fast. "These men have stolen him! " she said. 
 " In any event, Roger would not have sold this saddle ! It 
 was his father's." Then again rushed into her mind the 
 dreadful thought that something had happened to Roger. 
 But she bravely struck down this thought. "No," she 
 said. " If anything had happened no farther away than 
 that horse has travelled to-day it would have been heard 
 of here! " And then there came into her mind a thought 
 which displaced everything else, and that was that Roc;cr 
 might not be very far away ! 
 18 
 
274 AKDIS cr.Arr.Ki)i-:y. 
 
 Of course it was possible that the horse had made an 
 easy journey to-day and that he had made an easy one 
 the day before, and another the day before that, but no 
 such possibilities entered the mind cf Ardis, nor did she 
 call upon her judgment to act. She felt that that horse 
 had come from Roger and that he had not come far. 
 The men might have brought the other horses from 
 Whitefield County, but not this one. 
 
 She stood trembling, pressing her hand against the 
 warm shoulder of the horse. It was Roger's horse; it 
 was Roger's saddle. She looked about her; the men 
 were still in the store, but at any moment they might come 
 out ; Dr. Lester and Mr. Chiverley were nowhere visible 
 on field or road. For an instant she thought of the little 
 landlord with the straw hat. But what could he do? 
 What would he be willing to do? 
 
 Instinctively, and scarcely knowing that she did it, she 
 shortened the stirrup on the near side of the horse at 
 which she was standing. Then she stood, thinking hard 
 and fast, like the strikin-g of an alarm-clock. If she could 
 get that horse away until the doctor and Mr. Chiverley 
 came back they might be able to do something or to find 
 out something. But if the men rode off before the return 
 of her friends the horse would be gone, and with him the 
 strongest clue to Roger's whereabouts. The idea that 
 the men were horse-thieves was now firmly fixed in her 
 mind. 
 
 Suddenly she stopped thinking, and without casting a 
 glance around her, she quietly stepped forward to the 
 rack, and standing on tip-toe loosed the bridle from the 
 peg and threw it over the horse's neck. Then, with her 
 hand on the pommel of the saddle, she gave a strong up- 
 ward spring. She had done this sort of thing before, but 
 this horse stood higher than her mare, and there was a 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEX. 275 
 
 little struggle before she got her seat. One foot went 
 into the stirrup, and one knee against the pommel. It 
 was an unsafe position, but she did not think of that. 
 
 The horse backed and sidled into the road. Ardis nat 
 up proudly. "Now I have possession of him!" she 
 thought. " They shall not have him again until everything 
 is explained." 
 
 At this instant she heard a shout down the road, and 
 looking back she saw the three men outside the store, one 
 of them running toward her. With a word to the horse 
 and with a grip of the pommel with one hand, she cantered 
 away from the men. The peculiar danger of her situation 
 did not oppress her. But if it had she would not have 
 hesitated. 
 
 "They shall not go off without telling everything," she 
 said, and again looked over the fields for her friends. 
 She saw nothing of them, but her backward glance took 
 in the tavern and she saw that two of the men were 
 mounting their horses ; that the little landlord was stand- 
 ing in the road, wildly gesticulating ; and that Mrs. Chiv- 
 erley was leaning over the rails of the piazza. 
 
 Ardis leaned forward and urged her horse into a gallop. 
 When she gave up the animal it should be in the presence 
 of Dr. Lester and Mr. Chiverley. Until they appeared 
 the men should not have him ! 
 
 She was going at a good pace, but she heard the hard 
 beating of hoofs behind her. Turning her head, she 
 saw that two men were riding after her, and gaining on 
 her. As she turned they shouted to her to stop. There 
 was something frightening in their voices and gestures ; 
 and even she had been thinking of stopping to parley with 
 them, she dared not do so now. If the men were not 
 thieves and rascals, why should they be so disturbed at a 
 young woman taking a ride on one of their horses? Why 
 
276 ARDIS CLAVERDEX. 
 
 should they doubt that she would come bad;, to her 
 friends? 
 
 Her first object now was to get away from her pursuers, 
 and she did not in the least doubt she could do it. If she 
 caught sight of the doctor and Mr. Chiverley she would 
 instantly put herself and the whole affair into their hands ; 
 but if she did not see them she would ride to a farm or a 
 village where she could seek protection, not only for her- 
 self, but for Roger's horse. At all risks that horse must 
 be detained until the thread which stretched from him to 
 Roger could be followed up! If those men should over- 
 take her they might injure her or they might not, but they 
 would certainly bear away the horse, and break and utterly 
 destroy the present strong clue to the object of her journey. 
 
 She had no whip, but her quick, earnest words and the 
 fire of haste which seemed* to run from her nervous hand 
 through the reins and bit into his brain were enough for 
 the spirited animal beneath her. He gave full play to his 
 powerful muscles, and went over the road at a pace which 
 made Ardis hold hard to the pommel of the saddle in 
 order to keep her seat. 
 
 A few minutes of this furious galloping brought her to 
 a fork in the road. It mattered not to Ardis which road 
 she took, but the horse gave her no opportunity of making 
 a decision, for, with a swerve which nearly unbalanced 
 her, he turned into the left-hand road. When she felt that 
 she again had command of her seat and for a few mo- 
 ments she had had some doubt of this Ardis turned to 
 look back. On the road over which she had gone she sav/ 
 but one of her pursuers, and he was at such a distance be- 
 hind her she felt sure he would not overtake her. But 
 where was the other? 
 
 She turned to the other side, and saw him galloping 
 madly along the main road, but past the point at which 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 277 
 
 she had turned. He must have been not far behind her 
 when she reached the fork, but why should he keep on the 
 other road ? 
 
 In a few moments she divined his purpose. The road 
 she was on now made a curve to the right, around the 
 base of a low hill, and in all probability it approached the 
 highway, and the man who was so furiously keeping on 
 the straight course might make a cut across the fields and 
 get into the road ahead of her. Then she would be lost, 
 for with one pursuer before her and another behind her 
 she could do nothing. 
 
 For an instant she thought of turning into the fields to 
 her left, and dashing across the country to the settlement 
 from which she had come. But this would be impossible. 
 In a man's saddle she could not leap fences nor go over 
 a rough country. In less than a minute she had passed 
 the hill, and throwing an excited glance over the level 
 fields, she saw that her suspicions had been correct. The 
 foremost man had already left the main road, and was 
 madly urging his horse across a pasture field. She could 
 see his arm waving up and down as he plied the whip. 
 Her road as she saw it before her still curved toward the 
 other, and to her judgment the man seemed nearer the 
 point upon it at which he was aiming than she was. 
 
 Her situation was desperate, and she determined upon 
 a bold stroke. She was more afraid of the man before 
 her than of the one behind her, partly because it was clear 
 that the latter was mounted on the poorer horse. She 
 would turn, make a wild dash past him, and gallop back 
 to the tavern, at which place the doctor and Mr. Chiver- 
 ley must, by this time, have arrived. Her intention to 
 carry out this plan was strengthened by the feeling that 
 she did not wish to longer pursue this unfrequented country 
 road which was taking her she knew not where. Had she 
 
278 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 kept on the main road she must have reached protection ; 
 but this seemed to lead into an unsettled country. 
 
 As quickly as this resolution was formed she essayed 
 to carry it out; but her horse paid no attention to her 
 attempts to turn him. Stiffening his powerful neck, he 
 kept straight on. Her position in the saddle gave her 
 little command over him, for it was as much as she could 
 do to cling to her seat as he bounded beneath her. There 
 was no help for it, she must go on; and go on to meet 
 that man so swiftly crossing the field, making for a point 
 where there was probably a gate or a break in the fence. 
 But if she must go on, then must she go on like lightning, 
 and pass that point before he reached it. 
 
 She shook the reins with frantic haste, and fairly shouted 
 in the horse's ears. The animal was as greatly excited as 
 his rider, and he seemed to know that he must not allow 
 himself to be headed off. Thoroughly warmed by his 
 previous running, he now gathered himself up and threw 
 himself out with such quick and powerful action that Ardis 
 felt as if she were sitting upon a steam-engine working at 
 highest speed, every stroke of which thrilled and shook 
 her. Dropping the reins, she clung with one hand to the 
 horse's mane and with the other to the pommel. 
 
 The horse on which the man was riding across the field 
 may have been tired and worn out when he reached the tav- 
 ern, but he was surely an animal of good blood and bottom, 
 for his frantic rider had worked him up into a surprising 
 burst of speed. The two horses rushed madly toward the 
 disputed point ; the man shouting wildly as he rode, and 
 Ardis leaning forward and clinging fast as if for dear life; 
 but the freshness of her horse, if not his better blood, 
 told well in this last mad rush; and he passed a break in 
 the fence while the other animal was still fifty feet away 
 from it. 
 
ARD1S CLA VERDE N. 
 
 279 
 
 Ardis did not turn her head, but as she passed the man 
 she leaned forward and shut her eyes, and as she did so 
 she heard the crack of a pistol. The infuriated man, 
 blinded by his rage, had fired, whether at the horse or at 
 her he scarcely knew himself, but his aim was wild, and 
 Ardis was already in such an excited condition that the 
 report scarcely frightened her. As she sped quickly on 
 she felt that her escape had truly been made. After his 
 frenzied rush over the fields the horse of her pursuer must 
 be good for little in a chase after Roger's noble beast. 
 The pistol-shot could only have been an act of despera- 
 tion, and it announced that the chase had been given up. 
 
 Very soon after he had so successfully swept by the 
 disputed point, Ardis' horse somewhat slackened his 
 gait. He still kept up a swift and even gallop, and Ardis 
 feh that should there be necessity for another burst of 
 speed he had within him the power to make it, but she 
 feared no such necessity. Looking back, she saw no one 
 in the road. In all probability the man had not even left 
 the field. 
 
 But where was she now going? She knew not, but she 
 would not stop until she had placed miles between herself 
 and those men. And for miles she rode on, looking right 
 and left for a house at which she might stop. Here and 
 there were cabins, and once or twice she passed a small 
 house ; but these were not the places she was looking for. 
 She wanted to reach a farm, or some settlement where 
 there were plenty of people about, but she gradually came 
 to believe that she was not on the road to that sort of 
 thing. 
 
 The sun had set and it was now growing dusky ; and as 
 she approached a moderate-sized house standing back 
 from the road, Ardis almost involuntarily pulled on the 
 bridle of her horse. But he paid no attention to the pull 
 
2 So ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 and galloped on. And now the animal began to toss his 
 head and snort as horses do when they approach their 
 homes and behold visions of hay-racks and measures of 
 grain. Ardis knew what this meant. She leaned forward 
 so that her head rested on the horse's neck. Her 
 strengthening excitement had died out, but over her there 
 stole a certain pleasurable feeling. 
 
 " He is going home," she said to herself; "at least to 
 the place where he was last fed and cared for. It may be 
 that he has been there a good while. And it may be that 
 Roger is there ! " She patted his neck. " Good horse ! " 
 she said. " That is the reason you turned into this road. 
 And that is the reason you would stop nowhere but at your 
 stable." 
 
 And so, worn out and shaken as she was, speeding along 
 that wild road in the dusk of the evening, Ardis felt a 
 quieting happiness stealing over her. She knew that the 
 friends she had left behind her at the tavern must be in a 
 sad commotion. They could not know where she had 
 gone or what had become of her; but they must know 
 that angry men were in pursuit of her, and that the gravest 
 dangers might beset her. But there was no help for it. 
 She was as sorry for them as it was possible for her to be, 
 and would have done anything to let them know that she 
 had escaped her pursuers and was on her way to a prob- 
 able shelter and safety, and, possibly, to Roger. And so, 
 while grieving for the grief and anxiety of her friends, she 
 felt a sense of relief through body and mind, and 
 wondered should she really find Roger, or merely news of 
 him which would enable her to find him. 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 2 8l 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 IT was growing dark when the horse on which Ardis had 
 taken her long and perilous ride suddenly accelerated 
 his pace, and then abruptly turned from the road. Ardis 
 raised her head and saw that he was galloping up a lane to- 
 ward a house where a light was shining. The horse did not 
 go to the house, but turned off into a barn-yard littered with 
 straw and cornstalks ; and there he stopped, threw up his 
 head, and whinnied. The moment he came to a halt 
 Ardis drew her foot from the stirrup and slipped to the 
 ground. 
 
 When first upon her feet she trembled so much that she 
 feared she could not stand, but as a man came out of the 
 open door some of her strength returned to her, and she 
 made a few steps toward him. But he did not give her 
 a chance to speak. 
 
 " Bless my soul! " he exclaimed. " If here ain't Biscay! 
 Well! Well! Upon my word I'm right down glad to see 
 that horse! " 
 
 Then he turned to Ardis and looked upon her with a 
 face of astonishment. The horse began to move toward 
 the barn, but the man took hold of the bridle, still keep- 
 ing his eyes fixed upon Ardis. 
 
 " Whar did he come from? " he exclaimed. " Did you 
 fetch him? And whar did you git him? Upon my word, 
 I never reckoned this horse would be brought back by a 
 gal and a little gal like you! How did you come to 
 doit?" 
 
 That Ardis in her short dress, with her boy's hat pulled 
 
282 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 down over her eyes to keep it from flying off, should be 
 looked upon in the dim light of evening as a "gal" was 
 not surprising, but Ardis, tired as she was, could not re- 
 strain a little smile at the appellation. The man's words 
 greatly cheered her. The fact that she was at a place 
 where the horse was known was a most encouraging point. 
 
 " I can't answer your questions now," she said. " I am 
 too tired. Is the' owner of that horse here? That is, is 
 Mr. Dunworth here?" 
 
 The man looked at her a moment without answering. 
 "Oho!" he then said, as if surprised that she should 
 know the name of the horse's owner. " No, he ain't here." 
 
 Ardis' heart fell. 
 
 "He ain't here jus' now," continued the man. "but I 
 reckon he will be before long. He's gone off with my 
 man Bill to look for this horse that was stole out of this 
 barn airly this mornin'." 
 
 Now uprose the heart of Ardis in swelling triumphant 
 joy. Roger was alive, well, and free! Not until this 
 moment did she understand how there had been lying 
 coiled up within her a dreadful fear that he might not be 
 alive, well, and free. She was about to speak, but her 
 voice forsook her, and she was obliged to make a second 
 attempt. 
 
 " I should like," she faltered out, "to wait for him." 
 
 "Wait?" said the man. "Of course you can wait as 
 long as you like. Jus' stop a minute till I tie this horse, 
 an' I'll take you inside." 
 
 Having thrown the bridle over a hook in the barn, the 
 man rejoined her. " I reckon if you've come any distance 
 on that big horse an' no crutch to the saddle, you must 
 be pretty well played out. Come on in. But I will say 
 that I'm everlastin' cur'ous to know how a gal like you 
 came to fetch that horse here! " 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 283 
 
 " I can't tell you now," said Ardis. " I must wait until 
 Mr. Dunworth comes back." 
 
 " All right ! " said the man, as the opened the house door. 
 " If them's your orders we'll have to wait. Here's a gal 
 who's brought home the horse that was stole," he said 
 to his wife, a pleasant little woman who was busy help- 
 ing a colored girl get supper. 
 
 The wife was as much astonished as her husband had 
 been, but when she looked upon that portion of Ardis' pale 
 face which was not covered by her hat, and noticed the 
 weary way in which she dropped upon a chair, her amaze- 
 ment gave way to kindly solicitude. 
 
 "By your looks," she said, "you must be tired almost 
 to death. Supper'll be ready directly, an' when you've 
 had a good meal you'll feel stronger an' ready to tell us 
 the meanin' of all this business." 
 
 "No," said her husband, "she's not to tell anybody till 
 the owner of the horse comes. That's pretty hard on us, 
 but I reckon we'll have to stick it out." 
 
 Ardis now spoke and said she wanted nothing but a 
 cup of coffee and a piece of bread, and then she would be 
 very thankful if she might be allowed to lie down some- 
 where. 
 
 " The coffee is purtty nigh b'iled," said the woman, " an' 
 you can have a cup in a minute." 
 
 " An' I'll step out," said the man, " an' give Biscay his 
 feed. But I'll jus' say one thing before I go." And he 
 now spoke without looking at Ardis. " I want it gener- 
 ally understood that no man who tries to steal that horse 
 or any o'her horse on this place is goin' to git away alive. 
 Now that I know there's horse-thieves about I'm ready 
 for 'em." 
 
 As the man closed the door his wife turned from the 
 fire and looked at Ardis. " Do you mean to say," she 
 
284 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 asked, " that anybody has put you under oath to say 
 nothin' 'cept to the owner of the horse? " 
 
 Ardis shook her head. " I am under no oath," she 
 said, " but I cannot talk now." 
 
 It was Roger who should hear her story. Only to Roger 
 could she tell it. 
 
 When Ardis had finished her slight repast and the 
 strong coffee toned her up wonderfully the woman said 
 to her: "If I was you I wouldn't lay down nowhere in 
 my clothes, but I'd jus' go to bed an' have a good night's 
 sleep. There's a little room at the top of the stairs that 
 I can git ready for you in three minutes. Mr. Dunworth 
 set off hot an' heavy after his horse before breakfas' this 
 mornin', an' it's more'n as like as not that he won't be back 
 till to-morrow. He's got to come back then, for he knows 
 we can't do without the horses no longer'n that, an' the 
 ones he an' Bill is ridin' is all we've got. Jimminy! he'll 
 be glad when he sees that horse, for I believe he thinks 
 more of him than he would of a wife an' baby! " 
 
 After a moment's thought Ardis agreed to the woman's 
 proposal. If Roger came back in the middle of the night 
 it would be no time to talk to him, and as he could not 
 possibly know who had brought back his horse, her secret 
 would be safe until she should tell it in the morning. As 
 she went up-stairs she asked which way Mr. Dunworth had 
 gone. 
 
 " Straight up the road," said the woman, pointing in the 
 opposite direction from that in which Ardis had come. 
 " That's the way the tracks p'inted." 
 
 " It is good," thought Ardis before she went to sleep, 
 " it is very good that he went that way. He will come 
 back disappointed, but that doesn't matter now, and if he 
 had gone the other way he might have come upon those 
 three men. Now he is safe." 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 285 
 
 And notwithstanding that she was alone in a little house 
 in a wild country, among utter strangers, and that Dr. 
 Lester and Mr. and Mrs. Chiverley must be almost dis- 
 tracted by her flight and continued absence, she stretched 
 herself out on the hard and lumpy bed of " corn shucks," 
 and nestled her head as well as she could into the un- 
 yielding hen's feathers pillow, and almost laughed in irre- 
 pressible joy. She had come to the very house where 
 Roger was staying ! How he happened to be at this house 
 mattered nothing to her. He was coming back to it; 
 that was enough. With this thought banishing all others 
 she passed into happy dreams. 
 
 Meantime the man and his wife were talking together 
 down-stairs. " It's took away my appetite," said the man, 
 " took it clean away, a-thinkin' an' thinkin' how on airth 
 that horse come to be fetched back by a gal." 
 
 " That's what's been goin' through my head," said the 
 woman, " like a shuttle, back'ards an' for'ards, ever sence 
 I set eyes on her." 
 
 " The only notion I can lay hold of," said her husband, 
 "is that the rascal who took the horse was afraid to keep 
 him, for anybody who'd once seen him would know him 
 again, an' has sent him back with some sort of a cock-an'- 
 bull story to get money out of Mr. Dunworth ; an' they 
 sent a gal, because nobody would be likely to hurt a gal ; 
 an' if they'd sent a man he might have been nabbed or 
 shot, one." 
 
 l ' I don't reckon," said the woman, " from the look of 
 her, that she's mixed up with no horse-thieves ; at least 
 from her own free will an' likin' ; anyway, if she is mixed 
 up with 'em I should say she's the daughter of one of 
 'em; an' she's not to be blamed for that, for her own 
 free-will an' likin' had nothin' to do with it. Of course 
 she's after money, an' wants to bargain with the owner 
 
286 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 an' nobody else. But I've an idee that she found out 
 whar that horse belonged, an' brought him back of her 
 own accord." 
 
 " If that's what she's done," said the man, " I pity her 
 when she gits back to them fellers." 
 
 " I reckon she's got that all straightened out," said the 
 woman. "She's no fool. I could tell that by the way 
 she wouldn't talk." 
 
 " It's more'n likely that's so," said the man. " An' then 
 again she mayn't ha' took the horse from her folks. 
 PYaps they sold him, an' she stole him from the man 
 that bought him. Some o' them gals is powerful sharp, 
 'specially when they've been brought up to it! " 
 
 " Well," said the woman, " we may know the rights of 
 it, and then again we may never know; for Mr. Dun- 
 worth likes mighty well to keep things to himself, an' he 
 mayn't care to tell us what sort o' bargain he makes with 
 the gal." 
 
 "Oh, go 'long!" said the man. "He'll tell me all 
 about it, you bet, though he mayn't care to trust his con- 
 cearns with a woman." 
 
 The wife arose and set about finishing up the work for 
 the day, a gentle smile of superior knowledge flitting 
 across her thin face. 
 
 The commotion in the tavern when Ardis rode away 
 on Roger's horse was very great. Mrs. Chiverley had 
 heard the sounds cf galloping, and almost immediately 
 the shouts of the men, and had hurried out to the piazza, 
 where she plainly saw her young friend dashing away upon 
 her flying steed. This sight almost stupefied her with 
 amazement ; and when she saw the two men mount and 
 ride madly after Ardis, she became dreadfully frightened 
 and began to scream for her husband and Dr. Lester. 
 These gentlemen, however, had not returned, and the 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 287 
 
 poor lady rushed wildly here and there, calling for some 
 one to go after the young lady and bring her back. 
 
 The landlord of the tavern could give her no help, and 
 indeed he scarcely paid any attention to her. It was all 
 he could do to keep the stranger who had been left with- 
 out a horse from laying violent hands upon him. In fact, 
 had it not been for the presence of two or three negroes 
 employed about the place, it is probable that the frantic 
 assertions of the little man that he had nothing to do with 
 the young woman's action, and that he had not the least 
 idea in the world what it meant, would not have availed 
 to save him from his angry accuser. 
 
 When Dr. Lester and Mr. Chiverley returned, the latter 
 found his wife in an utterly prostrated condition on a chair 
 on the piazza; and great as was his concern at the aston- 
 ishing thing that was told him. he did not stop to ask 
 questions, but hurried to her assistance. 
 
 With pale face and trembling hands Dr. Lester listened 
 to the landlord's excited statements. He could not divine 
 the meaning of what had happened, but he instantly de- 
 cided what must be done. Ardis must be followed with- 
 out a moment's delay. It was useless to speak to Mr. 
 Chiverley. He had seen him carrying his wife into the 
 house, and knew he could not leave her. He hurried to 
 the stable, but was there dismayed by the information 
 that the man who had been left horseless had quietly gone 
 off on the better horse of the two which had been hired 
 in Atlanta. The other animal was in an utterly worthless 
 condition, and there were no other horses in the stable. 
 
 When he discovered the situation, the doctor, his face 
 still pale but his hands no longer trembling, asked which 
 way the lady had gone, and immediately set out on foot, 
 his long strides carrying him nearly as rapidly as the 
 moderate trot of a horse. The occupants of a cabin near 
 
288 ARDIS CLAVERDEX. 
 
 the fork of the road told him that the lady and one man 
 had gone up the road to the left ; and this road the doctor 
 followed, sometimes breaking into a little run, and then 
 falling back into his long, steady stride. His mind did 
 not dwell upon the fact that only one man had followed 
 Ardis, nor at the time did he try to comprehend why any 
 man should follow her, or why she should take this road or 
 that one, or why she should have gone away at all. He 
 only considered that this was the road she had taken, and 
 that if it were possible to get along faster he must do it. 
 
 For a long time the doctor walked, and as he walked 
 there gradually came into his mind a dim notion of Ardis' 
 motive in this most extraordinary proceeding. He knew 
 she would never hesitate to do the thing she thought she 
 ought to do because danger might accompany the doing 
 of it ; but he also knew that she was not one who would 
 incur danger such as she must have incurred that evening 
 unless there was a very good reason for it. Of course 
 the whole affair must, in some way, be connected with 
 Roger Dunworth. Nothing else in this part of the world 
 could be of sufficient importance to make her do as she 
 had done without a word to any one. It was possible that 
 she might have heard that Roger was in sore trouble 
 perhaps about to be hung and she had taken the first 
 horse she could meet with to fly to his rescue. Had he 
 or Mr. Chiverley been there she might have spoken to 
 them. Oh, why, oh, why, was he not there ! 
 
 As he hurried along the doctor looked eagerly ahead 
 of him, but no sign could he see of a female figure coming 
 toward him. His hope was to come up with Ardis where 
 she might stop, or to meet her returning. His fear was 
 that some disaster to her would permit him to overtake 
 her. He met no one, and there were but few houses on 
 the road. At each of these, however, he made inquiries. 
 
AKDIS CLAVIER DEN. 289 
 
 A colored woman told him she had seen a horse running 
 away with somebody on his back. 
 
 " Was any one following? " eagerly asked the doctor. 
 
 " No, sah," said the woman, " an' it wouldn't 'a' been no 
 good if they had. Dey couldn't ketch dat hoss ! Lawsee ! 
 how he was gwine ! I done reckon de boy on he back done 
 frighten him wid a bahskit. Dey's some hosses can't 
 stand no bahskits on dey backs." 
 
 " Was there a boy on the horse? " asked the doctor in 
 surprise. 
 
 " Can't say fer sartin, sah, de hoss go so fas'. It might 
 'a' been a boy ; an' den again it mought 'a' been a gal ; 
 an' mought V been a meal bag dat frightened de hoss, 
 an' not a bahskit." 
 
 The doctor staid for no more surmises, and walked on. 
 If the figure on the flying horse were really Ardis, what 
 had become of the man who had pursued her up the road? 
 The doctor had passed no roads nor lanes diverging from 
 the one he was on ; and when, a mile or two back, he had 
 passed the break in the fence through which the man on 
 the slower horse had joined his companion in the fields, it 
 had offered him no hints in regard to the situation. 
 
 When he had mounted a long hill he came upon a barn, 
 from an upper floor of which a colored man was throwing 
 dry fodder to some cows in a yard. The house to which 
 the barn belonged was not visible, but probably lay be- 
 hind a mass of evergreens a quarter of a mile back from 
 the road. When the doctor stopped at the barn the man 
 stopped in his work. He was an intelligent negro, and 
 proved himself able to give some coherent information. 
 He had seen a girl riding like wildfire on a big bay horse ; 
 there was nobody following her; he had been about the 
 barn ever since she had passed, and knew that she had 
 not been followed. He supposed that she was going for 
 
290 ARD1S CLAVERDEN. 
 
 the doctor. He reckoned she was going after old Dr. 
 Jessup, who lived at Hammersville. There was a doctor 
 a good deal nearer, but he reckoned he'd gone away 
 somewhere. 
 
 " Where is Hammersville? " asked Dr. Lester. 
 
 "You jus' foller this road," said the negro, "till you git 
 to the mountain, an 1 den you crosses ober de mountain, 
 an' when you git to de bottom lands you come to a big 
 branch wid a bridge ober it, an' den you keep straight 
 along can't make no mistake, sah, 'cause de road don't 
 fork an' den yo' come to a lot o' hills, an' when you 
 done gone ober dem you kin see Hammersville if it ain't 
 too dark." 
 
 "And how far is Hammersville? " asked the doctor. 
 
 " It's about twenty miles from here, sah. Dat's wot dey 
 calls it, sah." 
 
 The doctor stood silent a moment, and then, with a 
 few words of thanks, passed on. 
 
 The negro looked after him. "Bless my soul!" he 
 ejaculated. "To put off like dat jus' when I was gwine 
 ter ask him who dat gal was, an' who was sick, an' what 
 he was gwine after her fer? " 
 
 The doctor walked on for some twenty minutes, and 
 then he stopped. " Where is the good of it?" he asked 
 himself. He had already walked at a great pace some 
 seven or eight miles, and this, too, after a long tramp 
 with Mr. Chiverley. He was a good pedestrian, but he 
 could feel that his strength was giving out. That Ardis 
 had gone to Hammersville he did not doubt. It was from 
 such a little town that she would be likely to hear news 
 of Roger, and only in such a place, where there were 
 people to be called upon, could she render him any as- 
 sistance. In a case like this she would not hesitate at a 
 ride of twenty-eight or thirty miles ; tJut as for himself, it 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 291 
 
 would be impossible for him to walk to Hammersville that 
 night. He hoped, he tried hard to believe, that she 
 would reach her destination in safety; and in a town she 
 would certainly find persons to take care of her. The 
 fact that the men had ceased to follow her was a great 
 relief to him. He sat down upon a stone to rest. It was 
 growing dark and he could see no house nor light ahead 
 of him. He determined he would go back to the barn 
 where he had spoken to the negro and ask the man to 
 take him to the house occupied by the owner of the farm. 
 There he might obtain refreshment, and hire a horse and 
 vehicle to carry him to Hammersville. But when he 
 reached the barn he found it deserted ; the man had gone 
 away. 
 
 The doctor went through a gate into a roughly worn 
 road which he supposed would lead him to the house, but 
 he had not walked more than a dozen .steps before he 
 suddenly stopped. At a distance, and apparently from 
 the mass of evergreens which now stood black against the 
 sky, he heard the baying of a dog. Dr. Lester was a 
 brave man, and had done things at which many brave 
 men would hesitate ; but the exception to his bravery was 
 his fear of dogs. Reason as he might, and for a few mo- 
 ments he did reason with great earnestness, he could not 
 prevail upon himself to go up alone through the shades 
 of evening, to that house around which several fierce 
 hounds might be prowling. He was even afraid to stay 
 where he was for fear they should come upon him ; and 
 he made his way back to the barn as a place of security. 
 
 The barn doors were shut and fastened, but the doctor 
 saw an open window not far from the ground, through 
 which he clambered. He found himself in a stable, and 
 by the faint light which came through the window he 
 could see that it was a large one, and that there were no 
 
2 9 2 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 animals in it. He looked about him a few moments to 
 find a place where he might sit down ; and then he closed 
 the window-shutter to prevent the dogs from following him. 
 He now felt his way to a stall in which he had noticed a 
 pile of hay or straw; on this he sat down to think, but he 
 had not thought for five minutes before his head fell for- 
 ward, and he began to doze. 
 
 In about an hour he awoke feeling very cold. He was 
 surrounded by pitchy darkness and his only thought was 
 to get himself warm. He remembered, while feeling his 
 way to the stall, his hand had touched a horse blanket, 
 or some heavy cloth hanging on a nail. He groped about 
 for this, and at length found it. Wrapping himself up in 
 it he lay down upon the straw. 
 
 "What can I do?" he said to himself. "I can do 
 nothing but wait until morning." And, while considering 
 what this necessjty might entail, he fell into a heavy sleep, 
 broken by anxious dreams and sudden shiverings. But 
 despite the troubled restlessness of his brain, and despite 
 the cold night wind which came in through the many 
 cracks and crevices of the barn, the doctor slept on. He 
 was very tired. 
 
 At the tavern on the main road, which had been closed 
 up very early that night, the little proprietor was sitting 
 behind his bar, cleaning and loading a large revolver, and 
 bemoaning his unparalleled bad luck to two of his men 
 whom he had called upon to spend the night in the house 
 and help him to defend himself and his property if the 
 need should arise. Such a thing had never happened to 
 him before, nor had it ever happened to anybody so far as 
 he knew. Indeed he believed it to be an unheard of 
 calamity. To have a horse stolen from before his door 
 in broad daylight, was a blow to his reputation and his 
 business which might utterly destroy both. And stolen 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 293 
 
 by a girl ! Was such a thing ever known in this wide 
 world? What sort of people these were who had come 
 to him as respectable guests he did not know, and what 
 might happen next he could not imagine ! 
 
 Up-stairs Mr. Chiverley was sitting by his wife's bed- 
 side. When night came on, and Ardis returned not, she 
 had become hysterical, and poor Harry Chiverley had his 
 hands full. Chilled to the heart by his fears for Ardis, 
 fears which were aggravated by his utter inability to un- 
 derstand the situation, he could do nothing but stay here 
 and help his wife support the blow. It was impossible to 
 leave her. Under the influence of an anodyne Mrs. 
 Chiverley at last slept ; but her husband did not undress, 
 nor close his eyes that night. 
 
 In the little room at the head of the stairs in that 
 lonely house, to which, in swift ungovernable flight, she 
 had been brought by Roger's horse, Ardis lay in happy 
 dreams. Her mind was capable of keenly appreciating 
 the distress of the friends on whom had fallen the sudden 
 shock of her unexplained and alarming escapade ; but no 
 thought of all this ventured in among the rosy fancies 
 which filled her sleeping mind. Before her passed the 
 bright and joyous scenes of an endless drama the title of 
 which was : " Roger is coming I " 
 
294 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 IT was very early the next morning when Ardis was 
 awakened by some one standing by her bed. It was 
 the woman of the house. 
 
 " You'd better git up," she said. " He's come! " 
 
 'Who?" exclaimed Ardis sitting up suddenly. 
 
 "The owner of the horse Mr. Dunworth," said the 
 woman. " He come back some time in the middle of the 
 night, I don't know when ; an' it's a good thing our man 
 Bill give a shout when they got here, for Elick that's my 
 husband might ha' shot 'em, for he had his gun all ready, 
 an' his head was full of horse thieves. Mr. Dunworth was 
 mightily tickled when he found his horse had been 
 brought back, an' he's on pins and needles to see you. 
 He's been up half an hour." 
 
 Ardis's face was as rosy as her dreams of the past night. 
 
 " Your sleep had freshened you up pow'ful," said the 
 woman. " You'd better come down quick." 
 
 Ardis did not answer. Her heart was beating fast, and 
 her dark eyes, filled with sparkling light, were fixed upon 
 
 the wall opposite to her. "OMrs. !" she suddenly 
 
 exclaimed. And then she stopped. "Do you know I 
 never thought to ask your name?" "It's Kisley," said 
 the woman. 
 
 " O Mrs. Kisley," said Ardis in an entreating voice, 
 "can't you lend me a dress or a skirt? Almost anything 
 will do that is clean and long enough. I can't go down to 
 him in the clothes I wore yesterday. The skirt is dread- 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN, 295 
 
 fully torn and covered with mud splashes. After my last 
 night's ride I wasn't fit to be seen! " 
 
 " Oh, bless me ! " said Mrs. Kisley, " you needn't bother 
 your head about nothin' of that sort. He's none of your 
 stuck-up gentlemen. He's a plain, common-sense young 
 man, an', if he makes a bargain with you for fetchin' back 
 his horse he won't take no 'count of what sort o' duds 
 you've got on." 
 
 " I cannot go down to meet that gentleman," said 
 Ardis, "in the clothes I wore last night. Dear Mrs. 
 Kisley, you must lend me something that will make me 
 look at least decent." 
 
 " Well," said the other, " if you've set your mind on it, 
 I s'pose there's no turnin' you. You look like a gal that's 
 in the habit of havin' her own way. An' a good-lookin' 
 one too!" she thought to herself, though prudently re- 
 fraining from expressing this opinion aloud. " There's 
 some of my sister's clothes in that closet. She's sixteen, 
 an' p'raps they'll fit you. We haven't got no chillun, an' 
 she lives with us. But she's gone away now to stay with 
 mother, an' that's the reason you kin have this room, 
 which is hern. If you kin find anything you really want 
 you kin borry it, but don't spend no time fixin' up. 
 'Tain't fair to keep Mr. Dunworth waitin' a minute longer 
 than kin be helped." 
 
 The moment Mrs. Kisley left the room Ardis sprang to 
 the floor and began an eager investigation of the closet. 
 
 She found a pink calico dress of rather voluminous dra- 
 pery, but neat and clean ; and on the floor was a pair of 
 slippers but little worn and apparently outgrown by the 
 wearer of the gown. In a bureau drawer she discovered 
 some collars and cuffs, and other little articles belonging 
 to the holiday costume of the absent sister. With these 
 treasures she proceeded to make a rapid toilet; and this 
 
296 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 was barely finished when Mrs. Kisley again entered. She 
 was not accustomed to knocking, and simply opened the 
 door and walked in. When her eyes fell upon Ardis she 
 gave a gasp, and sat down heavily upon a chair near the 
 door. 
 
 Well might she sit in dumb amazement. The rough, 
 unkempt, and road-stained girl of the night before had 
 changed into the most beautiful woman on whom her eyes 
 had ever rested. The pink calico gown, somewhat too 
 large for her, had been draped and fastened about her 
 without any regard to the intents of its maker. A broad 
 belt formed of a gray silk scarf held it around her waist, 
 and a lace-trimmed handkerchief was pinned into a bow 
 at her throat, while the neat slippers showed beneath the 
 simple folds into which the skirt had been quickly drawn. 
 
 But the glory of this apparition was the hair. Here was 
 the crowning, transforming touch. Under the unshapen 
 felt hat the "gal" of the night before had had a tightly 
 packed mass of hair which was no more likely to attract 
 attention than the ordinary hair of a boy. Now the dark 
 mass combed out and coiled at the top of the head, with 
 airy little curls playing over the forehead, not only was a 
 beauty in itself, but it gave to the face that full measure 
 of loveliness which made it the face of Ardis Claverden. 
 
 Ardis smiled as she looked upon the dazed countenance 
 of Mrs. Kisley. " You think I am a good deal changed, 
 don't you? " she said. 
 
 "Changed! " ejaculated the woman, "I should say so! 
 At first I thought you'd been doing something to yourself, 
 but now I reckon you've only been undoin'. You must 
 look like that always, don't you? " 
 
 " Yes," said Ardis, " as I am a woman I like to look 
 one, except on special occasions when I don't object to 
 being considered a girl." 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 297 
 
 "But you don't belong to no to no horse people? 1 ' 
 said Mrs. Kisley. 
 
 Ardis did not understand what this meant, but she felt 
 that it was necessary that she should, in a measure at least, 
 explain the situation to Mrs. Kisley. "I will tell you 
 after a while," she said, " how I happened to come here 
 on Mr. Dunworth's horse. But I must go down to him 
 now and I caa only say to you that he is a very dear 
 friend of mine, and I wish to see him by himself." 
 
 "Are you goin' to marry him?" asked Mrs. Kisley. 
 
 This blunt question brought a quick flush to the face of 
 Ardis, but it also brought a flash of light into her eyes, and 
 a half-smile to her lips. 
 
 "You needn't say nuthin'," said Mrs. Kisley. "I 
 know!" 
 
 Ardis hurried down-stairs. As she opened the door 
 which led into the living-room below stairs, Roger Dun- 
 worth stood with his back toward her and his hand 
 upon the latch of an outer door. He had grown tired of 
 waiting for the person who had brought his horse, and was 
 going out to the barn. At the sound of the opening door 
 he turned; and then with a sudden start, he stepped 
 back, his shoulders striking the wall; his face flushed, and 
 his mouth opened as if he would explain, but no sound 
 passed his lips. 
 
 Ardis closed the door behind her. " How do you do, 
 Roger? " she said, advancing with outstretched hand. 
 "You look more astonished than Mrs. Kisley!" 
 
 Roger made a step forward. "You!" he gasped 
 "Ardis? Here?" 
 
 " Yes," said she, " it is I ; Ardis ; here. Don't you in- 
 tend to shake hands with me? And now sit down, and I 
 will tell you the whole thing as fast as ever I can." 
 
 Roger mechanically sat down upon a chair which Ardis 
 
298 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 pushed toward him while she took another near by and 
 began rapidly to sketch out the story of her coming. At 
 first Roger scarcely comprehended a word that she said. 
 His brain was filled with whirling thought which seemed 
 impossible to catch or recognize that this was the woman 
 who had cast him off; that this was Ardis Claverden; 
 that she was here in this wild spot alone; that she had 
 brought his horse ! His reason could not cope with any 
 of these ideas. They raged upon him like beasts that 
 had broken from their cages. 
 
 But in a very short time the clear, straightforward story 
 told by Ardis began to impress itself upon him, and it was 
 not long before he knew how it was that she had come 
 here. But there was something more difficult to compre- 
 hend than this. 
 
 " I don't understand," he said interrupting her before 
 she had finished, "why should you come? And for me? 
 What of him ? Does he know? " 
 
 Ardis rose to her feet. " Roger Dunworth," said she, 
 "you are thinking of Mr. Surrey! We will not talk of him 
 now, but I will simply say that everything you have 
 thought of, or done in regard to him is utterly without 
 reason or foundation. I expected Dr. Lester to tell you 
 this and explain the whole matter to you ; now I may do 
 it myself, but that can wait. It is enough for you to know 
 that it is all a mistake."' 
 
 For an instant the mind of Roger Dunworth turned 
 back to those things about which he was asked to con- 
 sider himself mistaken, but it could not stay there. Look- 
 ing at Ardis Claverden as she now stood before him, he 
 could not think of her anywhere else, nor with any one 
 else. That she was here was everything just now. 
 
 He rose and stood before her. A sudden fire ran 
 through every nerve. " Ardis," he said, " you would not 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 299 
 
 have done all this ; you would not have come down here 
 for my sake if you had not loved me ! " 
 
 The eyes of Ardis fell. How suddenly people came to 
 this point! Even Mrs. Kisley jumped at it. But this was 
 no time for delays and preparations. Things came 
 quickly and must be met quickly. She raised her eyes to 
 his. They were very beautiful eyes, with a sparkle in them. 
 
 " Of course not," she said. 
 
 Mrs. Kisley, who was looking through the keyhole of 
 the inner door, now began to shed some gentle tears. 
 These were caused by recollections. Not that anything 
 had ever happened to her like that which was happening 
 on the other side of the door, for Elick Kisley was not 
 that sort of man ; but her youth had not so long passed 
 but that she could easily remember it, and her recollec- 
 tions were of things which she used to dream about, and 
 which she hoped would some day happen to her, but 
 which never did. 
 
 She soon ceased to look. One cannot see very well 
 through a keyhole when one's eyes are filled with tears. 
 She stepped softly to the stairs and sitting upon the 
 lower step, she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. 
 Then she arose. " I must go and find Elick," she said to 
 herself, " an' keep him from comin' in to the house. He 
 mustn't come in just yet" 
 
 She went noiselessly out of a side door, and found her 
 husband in the barn. There she told him everything that 
 had happened from the transformation scene to the en- 
 rapturing finale. "You must wait awhile," she said, "an' 
 then you must make a noise outside before you go in. 
 An' you mustn't go in without your coat on, Elick. 
 Bless my soul! Never in all your life was you in the 
 same house with such a woman as she is! " 
 
 Elick Kisley was very much impressed by what he had 
 
300 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 heard. He did not exactly comprehend what had taken 
 place, but he knew there was a lady in his house before 
 whom he must not appear in his shirt sleeves. Persons in 
 whose presence he was obliged to wear a coat always had 
 a very depressing effect upon him. 
 
 " I must go an' see about the breakfas'," said Mrs. 
 Kisley, " I reckon they must be about through now." 
 
 And Mrs. Kisley hurried to the kitchen, her mind 
 . troubled as she went for fear that the colored girl she had 
 left there had been peeping in upon the lovers. 
 
 A little later Mrs. Kisley, after some preliminary fum- 
 bling at the latch of the door between the kitchen and the 
 living-room, as if it were an unfamiliar latch and she did 
 not know exactly how it worked, opened said door, and 
 remarked : " We are goin' to bring in breakfas' now, an' 
 I reckon you all's about ready for it." 
 
 Ardis and Roger were sitting side by side, a little apart. 
 Her hands were in her lap, but the arm of Roger nearest 
 Ardis hung by his side as if it had been suddenly dropped. 
 
 " Breakfast ! " said Ardis starting to her feet. " You 
 may be sure I am ready for it, for I have not had any 
 regular meal since yesterday in the middle of the day. 
 And, Roger, just as soon as possible after breakfast we 
 must get back in some way or other to the tavern where 
 Dr. Lester and the Chiverleys are. I really do not dare 
 to think of the state of anxiety they must be in ! But I 
 am sure their delight in seeing you safe and sound will 
 make amends for all their worry." 
 
 When Mr. Kisley came in to breakfast he gave one 
 glance at Ardis, and then with downcast eyes went up to 
 her and shook hands as if she had just arrived. His 
 well-worn coat was buttoned up to his chin, and his long, 
 black hair, thoroughly wet and combed and plastered down, 
 hung in stiff perpendicularity around his head. He said 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 301 
 
 but little as he sat at the table, but now and again he 
 heaved a heavy sigh. Not that there was anything the 
 matter with him, but that he must show in some way that 
 he felt at home, and this was the most off-hand action that 
 came into his mind at the time. 
 
 In the course of the somewhat hurried meal Roger 
 made an arrangement with his host for a light wagon in 
 which he and Miss Claverden could go to the tavern 
 where their friends were staying. His own horse would 
 draw them and the negro man could be sent later with 
 another horse to bring back the wagon. 
 
 When Ardis had pushed back her chair from the break- 
 fast table, she took Mrs. Kisley aside. " I must go up- 
 stairs and put on my own clothes," she said, "and per- 
 haps you will help me get them into decent order." 
 
 Mrs. Kisley assured her that she might wear Malvina's 
 garments as long as she liked, but Ardis declined this 
 offer. A stitch or two and some brushing would make 
 her own clothes do very well. 
 
 "Oh, yes," said Mrs. Kisley, vigorously brushing a 
 dirty skirt. " Those duds are good enough for trav'hV, 
 but I don't wonder you wanted somethin' better to pop in 
 on a sweetheart with. And how did you know he was 
 here? An' where did you git the horse? " 
 
 As the brushing, the stitching, and the change of attire 
 went rapidly on, Ardis gave Mrs. Kisley an outline of 
 what had occurred, and no invented story could have so 
 completely amazed that good woman. 
 
 When Roger came into the house to say that the vehicle 
 was ready, he found Ardis sitting in the living-room. 
 "Oho! " he cried. " Here is another young lady! And 
 where in the world have you come from? " 
 
 " I came from Bald Hill," said Ardis, demurely casting 
 down her eyes, " and these are the clothes I used to wear 
 
302 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 when I went tramping around the country with a young 
 man in our neighborhood looking for things to sketch." 
 
 How well Roger remembered her in that dress! How 
 well he remembered those days of tramping and sketch- 
 ing ! "And this little girl," said he, " is she of the same 
 way of thinking as the young lady I met this morning? " 
 
 "Yes," said Ardis, "they think very much alike, and 
 although you cannot have the pleasure of helping the 
 other one into your wagon, this one will pop in without 
 any help at all if you are not very quick, sir." 
 
 As they were taking leave Mrs. Kisley drew Ardis 
 aside. " It's no use tryin' ; you can't do it ; clothes won't 
 do it; nothin' won't do it; you can't never make yourse'f 
 the gal you was las' night." 
 
 "Why?" asked Ardis gently. 
 
 " On account o' him" said Mrs. Kisley, nodding in the 
 direction of Roger. 
 
 Ardis made no answer, but drew close to Mrs. Kisley 
 and kissed her. Tears came into Mrs. Kisley's eyes, 
 and when the two had driven away she went and sat down 
 on the bottom step near the keyhole through which she 
 had seen what she used to dream about. To her this 
 would henceforth be the one spot beloved in all the house. 
 
 Her thoughts were suddenly summoned from their wan- 
 derings by the voice of her husband, and she rose quickly 
 and went into the living-room. Mr. Kisley still wore his 
 coat, his hair remained plastered down, and his air of de- 
 pression had not entirely left him. 
 
 "Look here," said he, "whar did she git them clothes? 
 She didn't bring no baggage." 
 
 " They was Malvina's clothes," said Mrs. Kisley. 
 
 "Malvina's clothes!" exclaimed her husband. "An' 
 if she had 'em, why on airth did she never wear 'em? " 
 
 Mrs. Kisley knew that the clothes had been often worn, 
 but they had been worn by Malvina. 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 303 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 IT was still early in the morning when Roger Dunworth 
 . and Ardis left the abode of the Kisleys. Biscay, who 
 was not used to doing work between shafts and objected 
 to even a light wagon, showed a decided disinclination to 
 accommodate himself to circumstances ; but when he be- 
 came convinced that the reins were in the hands of a man 
 who was determined to have his own way in the matter, 
 he set off at a bounding trot, thinking probably that the 
 faster he went the sooner he would get through with this 
 disagreeable business. The horse could not go too fast 
 for those who rode behind him. These two had done 
 very much in the brief part of the morning which had 
 passed, and now they wished to go with all haste to make 
 their friends as happy as themselves. 
 
 On the way Roger told his story. It seemed a very 
 simple and unimportant one to him compared to that 
 which Ardis had told. On his reasons for going from 
 home he touched but lightly. To his mind it had ap- 
 peared that every one must know as well as he knew it 
 that it was an absolute impossibility for him to stay there 
 and see Ardis happy with another. 
 
 During the latter part of his exile he had begun or 
 thought he had begun to inure his soul to what it had 
 to expect for the rest of his life ; and his wanderings had 
 had for an object what Dr. Lester had surmised. If he 
 could have found a place in this part of the country which 
 pleased him, he would have been glad to buy it, lease his 
 old home, and make an abiding place in which he believed 
 
304 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 it would be wiser for him to live than m the house where 
 it had been the aim of his manhood to live with Ardis. 
 
 It was so plain from what he said, and from the straight- 
 forward earnest way in which he said it, that to live with 
 Ardis was the only life which he thought worth living that 
 the soul of the girl beside him glowed with gladness be- 
 cause she had been steadfast in her purpose and because 
 he now knew that he was to spend his life with her. 
 Much had happened it seemed as if years had passed 
 since he had told his love and received no answer. But 
 she had had faith that when she came to him with her 
 answer she would find him steadfast. And she had found 
 him so. 
 
 Regarding the mistakes he had made Roger said noth- 
 ing at all. Ardis had assured him that they were mis- 
 takes, and that was the end of it. Even to think of them 
 made his soul shiver; to speak of them was unnecessary 
 torture. A man as happy as he was could afford to bury 
 such dead things in a very deep grave, and to leave the 
 spot without stone or mark. 
 
 He had been at Kisley's for a week, and had expected 
 in a day or two to start thence on his way toward Atlanta. 
 But the theft of his horse had changed all his plans, and 
 it had been his intention to go this morning in search of 
 Biscay in a direction which would have taken him far 
 away from the friends who were looking for him. 
 
 As to the pursuit of himself as a horse thief he had 
 never known of it until Ardis told him that morning. 
 What might have happened to him in this almost wild 
 region made his heart shudder ; what had happened made 
 it bound with joy and pride. He turned to Ardis, and 
 took her hand. They were on an open road, and he could 
 only take her hand. 
 
 And so Biscay trotted vigorously and rapidly onward, 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 305 
 
 often breaking into a run, from which, however, he was 
 quickly brought up by Roger ; and although the road was 
 not altogether a smooth one, little cared the two young 
 people, sitting side by side on the single seat of the light 
 wagon, for jolts and bumps. They had come from roads 
 which were rough and hard to one which in the minds of 
 these happy lovers lay before them as smooth as the sur- 
 face of a placid lake and the occasional ruts and stones 
 of the actual way beneath them were as nothing. 
 
 The rattling noise of a rapidly passing vehicle awoke 
 Dr. Lester, who sat up suddenly on his pile of straw and 
 shivered as he looked vacantly about him. For a few 
 moments the only thing of which his mind was positive 
 was that he was very cold; but just as it began to dawn 
 upon him why he was there the negro man whom he had 
 seen the night before looked in at: the stable door. 
 
 " It's right smart late, sah, to wake you up, sah, but you 
 did sleep so soun' dat I couldn't bear to 'sturb you." 
 
 " I was very tired," said the doctor, throwing off his 
 blanket, and rising to his feet. 
 
 " If you'd come up to de house, sah," said the negro, 
 " dey'd gibe you a good bed, but I 'spect you was afraid 
 ob de dogs." 
 
 The doctor nodded, and the man continued. 
 
 "Dem dogs does keep off tramps, an' watermelon 
 thieves, an' 'spectable pussons, all in a lump. I'd ha' took 
 you up myself if I'd ha' known you was gwine ter stop. 
 But wot I come in to wake you up an' tell you, sah, is dat 
 de young 'ooman who rode by las' night, an' wot you was 
 lookin' for, has jus' gone back ag'in in a wagon wid a 
 strange doctor at least I neber seed him afore. So I 
 reckon, sah, dat if de sick pusson didn't die in de night 
 he'll be all right now, an' you kin make your min' easy 
 about him." 
 20 
 
306 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 After some earnest and rapid inquiries the doctor be- 
 came convinced that Ardis was really on her way back to 
 the inn, although in whose company he could not imagine. 
 He did not deem it necessary to explain to the negro that 
 she had not gone after a doctor and declining the man's 
 invitation to go to the house and get some breakfast, he 
 prepared to follow the wagon. 
 
 " It's a mighty bad shame, sah,'' said the negro, " dat 
 dey didn't know you was in heah, fur dey might ha' stopped 
 an' took you into de waggin. Whar is you gwine, sah? " 
 
 The doctor mentioned the tavern where he had stopped 
 the day before, and then the man told him of a road 
 through the woods which would save him at least two 
 miles of walking. And, with a gratuity to the good-inten- 
 tioned negro, he set out on his return to his party. 
 
 When he reached the point which had been indicated 
 to him Dr. Lester climbed a fence and took a foot-path 
 through the woods. He was not in a happy mood. He 
 did not experience the relief from anxiety and consequent 
 elevation of spirits which, as might naturally be supposed, 
 would come to him from a knowledge of Ardis's safety. If 
 his legs had not been so stiff; if his whole body had not felt 
 so chilled that even exercise did not warm him, if he had 
 had anything to eat since the middle of the day before, 
 his mind might have been in a more hopeful condition. 
 
 The negro's statement that he had seen Ardis go back 
 in a wagon was reason enough to make the doctor hasten 
 to the inn without even the delay of a proffered breakfast. 
 But the man might have been mistaken ; and even if it were 
 she who was taken back in the wagon, the doctor's mind 
 was racked by thoughts that she might now be plunged in 
 grief, and going back with the saddest news to tell. 
 
 The morning sky was covered with an unbroken expanse 
 of grayish clouds, and although these had seemed to shine 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 307 
 
 upon the lovers in the light wagon as if they had been 
 polished steel, they presented no such appearance to Dr. 
 Lester. Their gray gloom helped to sadden a world which 
 already seemed gloomy enough to this anxious, shivering, 
 weary, true-hearted gentleman. 
 
 After walking about half a mile, the doctor came to a 
 little stream, and he had scarcely stepped across it to 
 follow the path which led around the roots of a great oak- 
 tree upon the other side, when he was suddenly confronted 
 by two men. He stopped short. The men were respect- 
 ably dressed, although their clothes were spattered with 
 mud and their soft felt hats were pulled down over their 
 faces. They were silent, and neither of them moved 
 limb or muscle. Even the cold morning wind which blew 
 down the little stream did not sway them as they hung 
 side by side from an outstretching limb of the great oak- 
 tree. On the coat of one of them was pinned a paper on 
 which were printed with a lead pencil these words : 
 
 " Hung for horse stealing. Look out, other fellow.' 
 
 There was no signature. 
 
 For a moment the doctor stood appalled, a cold mois- 
 ture bursting out upon his hands and upon his pallid face. 
 Then a horrible sickening fear came over him. Could one 
 of these be the man for whom Ardis had come down here 
 to search? 
 
 The inscription on the paper had been read at a glance, 
 for the characters were large and distinct, but a glance 
 was not enough to prove to the trembling doctor that 
 neither of these men was Roger Dunworth. 
 
 A minute later the doctor staggered away. The effects 
 of the shock were still upon him, but this horrible fear 
 had been uplifted from his soul. The men were strangers 
 to him. 
 
 Now there came upon Dr. Lester a wild desire to get 
 
308 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 away ; and he began to run, and did not slacken his pace 
 until he was out of the woods and on the main road. A 
 suspicion that the danger might not yet be over, and that 
 the " other fellow " mentioned in the inscription might be 
 Roger, came upon him as he walked rapidly onward, but 
 further consideration made him hope and almost believe 
 that the three horsemen of whom he had heard but had 
 not seen, and on one of whose horses Ardis had gone 
 away, were, in reality, the thieves ; and before he reached 
 the inn his mind had begun to quiet itself from the tumult 
 into which it had been thrown by what he had seen in the 
 woods. But his anxiety for Ardis could not be quieted 
 until he had looked on her, safe and sound. 
 
 When Dr. Lester entered the parlor of the tavern he 
 was greeted with a loud shout from Roger Dunworth who 
 sprang forward to meet him and seized him by both hands. 
 To Roger's expressions of hearty delight the doctor made 
 no answer. Tears came into his eyes, and he sat down 
 upon the nearest chair. On the other side of the room 
 he saw Ardis, bright as a star in heaven. Near by sat 
 Mrs. Chiverley, a little pale from the turmoils of the night, 
 but with a smile of happiest content upon her pretty face. 
 Mr. Chiverley laid down the paper on which he had been 
 making a sketch from the window, and came forward in 
 gayest mood. 
 
 "What on earth did you do with yourself last night?" 
 he cried. " We were beginning to think that you would 
 have to be hunted up." 
 
 The doctor did not answer, but turned to Roger. 
 " Was it you then," he asked, " who returned with Miss 
 Ardis in a wagon?" 
 
 "Yes," said Roger, "did you see us? " 
 
 " No," said the doctor, his words coming from him in 
 a low tone and slowly, " but I was told of it." 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 39 
 
 "It was too bad, doctor," exclaimed Mrs. Chiverley, 
 " that you were not here when they came back ! I de- 
 clare to you that this dreary looking country seemed like 
 heaven when I saw those two sitting together in the wagon ! 
 If you had been here, doctor, the situation would have 
 been perfect." 
 
 The doctor hesitated a moment, and then he said: "I 
 wish I had been here." 
 
 Ardis now rose from her seat and approached him, 
 " Dr. Lester," said she, "have you had any breakfast? " 
 
 The doctor looked up at her and shook his head. Then, 
 without another word, she went out of the room. 
 
 "No breakfast!" cried Mrs. Chiverley. "You must 
 be hungry ! We breakfasted an hour ago ; and we were 
 only waiting for your return to start back to Atlanta." 
 
 "And in twenty minutes by the clock," said Roger, "if 
 you had not appeared by that time, I should have been 
 off in search of you." 
 
 Shortly afterward, as Dr. Lester was eating a hastily 
 prepared breakfast at a corner of the dining-room table, 
 Ardis came in and sat down by him. " Doctor," she said, 
 "where did you stay last night? " 
 
 " At a house by the roadside," he promptly replied. 
 
 " How far was it from here? " 
 
 " I really do not know," said the doctor. 
 
 "And did you walk all the way there and back?" she 
 asked. 
 
 " Of course," he said. " You know our good horse was 
 taken." He spoke now with more strength and anima- 
 tion. The sense of thankfulness and peace was called 
 forth as much by hot coffee as by the knowledge that all 
 was well. 
 
 Ardis sat and looked at him for a few moments as he 
 ate. She was about to ask another question when she 
 
3 io ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 heard the footsteps of some one approaching. " I want 
 to tell you, doctor," she said quickly, "that all is right 
 between Roger and me." 
 
 "I knew that," he said, "as soon as I came in." 
 An hour afterward our party set out for Atlanta. It 
 was unfortunate to be obliged to leave without the horse 
 which had been stolen from them, but his recovery was 
 so exceedingly doubtful that they preferred to go without 
 him, and to pay his value to the man from whom he had 
 been hired, rather than to submit to delay on his account. 
 The disabled horse seemed now somewhat freshened up, 
 and Biscay was attached to one of the buggies. But as 
 there were now five persons in the party, and places for 
 only four, it was decided that the gentlemen should take 
 turns in walking. It would be necessary to go slowly if 
 they expected to keep their poorer horse in a condition to 
 finish the trip. But during that day Dr. Lester did not 
 walk a step ; Ardis would not permit it. When his turn 
 came she took his place, and as Roger walked with her, the 
 horses were a good deal relieved. 
 
 On the way the doctor was told everything that had 
 happened, and the more he heard the more firmly he de- 
 termined not to mention what he had seen in the woods. 
 In turning the matter over and over in his mind he came 
 to believe that the great oak-tree in the forest would not 
 have borne the weight which now slightly bent its out- 
 stretched limb had not Ardis recognized Roger's horse 
 and ridden him away. In their mad pursuit after this 
 valuable animal they had recklessly gone back in the 
 direction from which they had come and with utterly 
 worn-out horses had easily fallen into the hands of the 
 men, who with determined and vengeful purpose were 
 following them in the dark hours of the night. That one 
 of them escaped was doubtless due to the fact that Ardis 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 311 
 
 had taken the horse he had ridden, and that the hired 
 animal he had abstracted from the tavern stable was 
 not able to keep up with the blooded steeds of his com- 
 panions. Almost certain it was that but for Ardis's inter- 
 est in horses, her powers of quick recognition, and her 
 habit of equally quick action, the weights which bent the 
 long oak limb would now be riding on their way in stal- 
 wart health, and cheery mood. All this was so clear to 
 the doctor, that he knew it would be equally clear to Ardis, 
 and therefore she must never know it. And that it 
 might not by any chance word come to her knowledge, he 
 would speak of it to no one. 
 
312 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 ON the afternoon of the day on which Ardis and her 
 party reached the little tavern in Georgia, the philoso- 
 phizer Bonetti was walking on the road between his house 
 and Bolton when he met Mr. Tom Prouter. The latter 
 was in his dog cart, and was coming rapidly from the 
 direction of Bald Hill. 
 
 "How-d'ye-do, Bonnet?" he cried, pulling up his horse 
 with a jerk. " Do you know anything about Mr. Dun- 
 worth? Or where a man could find him, or write to him? 
 I have been to see Dr. Lester, but he has gone away, no- 
 body knows where, and I stopped at the Dunworth place, 
 but Parchester and the others haven't a notion in their 
 heads about him. And Major Claverden, where I stopped 
 and took dinner, cannot tell me anything; even Miss 
 Claverden is away." 
 
 " You don't suppose she could tell you anything, do 
 you?" asked Bonetti. 
 
 " I don't suppose she could," said Prouter, " but I 
 should like to have the chance of asking her that or any- 
 thing else. I tell you, Bonnet, this country is getting to 
 be a regular desert." 
 
 " It does look a little that way," said Bonetti. " But 
 what started you up to be so sharp after Mr. Dunworth? " 
 
 " I want to sell him my milk route," said Prouter. " The 
 confounded thing has got to be sold, or I shall be ruined, 
 body, pocket, and mind ; and I have got down to the be- 
 lief now that he is the only man in this part of the world 
 who is likely to buy it." 
 
ARDIS CLA VERDEN. 313 
 
 " Because he is the only one you haven't asked? " said 
 Bonetti. 
 
 " That may be part of it," said Prouter, " but the more I 
 think of it the more I believe that he is the man. He 
 has plenty of grazing land, and he might as well take the 
 cows as not. I'll sell them to him as cheap as dirt, and 
 throw in all the milk pans, churns, and every other con- 
 founded thing that belongs to the business. If I once 
 see him I can put the matter before him so that he cannot 
 help jumping at the bargain. By George, Bonnet, I'd give 
 ten dollars if I knew this minute where Dunworth is ! " 
 
 Bonetti did not immediately answer. He looked down 
 at the road, and then at the young man in the dog cart. 
 "Ten dollars?" said he. 
 
 Prouter glared at him. "Bonnet," he cried, "do you 
 know where Dunworth is? Out with it, man, and ten 
 dollars is yours." And thrusting his hand in his pocket he 
 pulled out a wallet. 
 
 Bonetti folded his arms and cast his eyes aga : n upon 
 the ground. Why should he not help Prouter to find 
 Dunworth? The one would be relieved of an onerous 
 burden, and the other would be able to make a most ad- 
 vantageous bargain. He had Dr. Lester's Atlanta ad- 
 dress, and there was no doubt in his mind that it was also 
 Dunworth's. He had promised not to say anything about 
 the expedition of Miss Ardis and her friends, but he had 
 never said that he would not give Dunworth's address if 
 he should happen to have it. Dr. Lester had asked him 
 to communicate with him if it should be necessary, and it 
 seemed very necessary indeed that Mr. Dunworth should 
 be communicated with. This young Englishman was ready 
 to sell this valuable property for a trifle, and it would be 
 a positive wrong to Dunworth not to let him know of the 
 chance. 
 
314 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 " Come, come, Bonnet! " cried Prouter, " What are you 
 thinking of, man? Do you know, or don't you know? " 
 
 " Yes," said Bonetti slowly, " I do know. Just about 
 this time he ought to be at Didman's Hotel, Atlanta, 
 Georgia." 
 
 "By George!" cried Prouter, "you are the very man 
 I should have come to first! " And he pulled a ten-dollar 
 note from his wallet and handed it to Bonetti. 
 
 The latter took it, rolled it up carelessly and stuffed it 
 into his waistcoat pocket. When money was thus lavishly 
 being thrown about the county he deemed it his duty to 
 his family to intercept some of it for useful purposes. 
 
 "Atlanta, Georgia!" ejaculated Prouter. "How do 
 you get there?" 
 
 "You go to Bolton, and take the train," answered 
 Bonetti. " There's a train south in the middle of the 
 night, and one at half-past five o'clock in the afternoon." 
 
 Prouter jerked out his watch. " Five minutes to four! " 
 he said. " That gives twenty-five minutes to get to the 
 Quantrills, fifteen minutes to change my clothes and pack 
 a bag, twenty minutes to Bolton, ten to speak to the milk 
 people, and a good quarter-hour to spare. By George ! 
 Bonnet, I'm off this afternoon! Didman's Hotel you 
 said?" 
 
 Bonetti nodded, and in a moment the young English- 
 man was bowling away as fast as his horse could shake 
 himself over the road. 
 
 Bonetti walked slowly homeward, his brow a little 
 clouded. " I should not have done that," he said to him- 
 self. " It was a stupid mistake, and I ought to have known 
 better. If I had said to Prouter, ' If you want to find Mr. 
 Dunworth I'll take you to him :' he'd have agreed as quick 
 as lightnin' to pay my passage to Atlanta; and if we 
 hadn't found him at that hotel we'd have hunted him up; 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 315 
 
 and I'd have had nothing to do with the expenses. It 
 would have done me good to get away from here for 
 awhile ; and I could have split up a lot of wood for the 
 women and gone with him just as well as not. Confound 
 it! It was the stupidest kind of a mistake! " 
 
 Some hours later the train on which Tom Prouter had 
 taken passage stopped at a junction of several railroads. 
 The stop was long, ridiculously long, Mr. Prouter thought, 
 and he laid down the novel which he was reading and 
 went out to see what was the matter. He found that a 
 certain train with which they were to make connection 
 had not arrived, and that they were waiting for it. 
 Further inquiries elicited the information that they might 
 have to wait half an hour longer. 
 
 " Confound it! " said he. " If things go on in this way, 
 Dunworth will have left Atlanta before I get there." 
 
 As he strode impatiently up and down the broad plat- 
 form of the station, some one suddenly stepped in front of 
 him, and said: "Hello!" 
 
 Prouter stopped, looked up, and recognized Mr. Surrey. 
 
 "Oh!" said he. 
 
 "Are you going north?" asked Surrey. 
 
 " No," said Prouter. 
 
 "Southward bound, then? " 
 
 " Yes," said Prouter. 
 
 " I am on my way up from Charleston," said Jack 
 Surrey, paying no attention to the fact that Prouter showed 
 very plainly that he took no interest in his communica- 
 tions. " It is a poor time to go north, but I got tired of 
 it down there. And what is the news from Bolton ? Is 
 Miss Claverden there?" 
 
 " No," said Prouter. 
 
 "And our good Dr. Lester? He is on hand, I sup- 
 pose?" 
 
316 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 " No, he is not," said Prouter ; " he has gone away." 
 
 "Ah!" said Mr. Surrey. "And you are leaving, too! 
 The neighborhood must be quite deserted. Going to 
 Florida?" 
 
 " No," answered Prouter in a tone intended to cut off 
 all further questioning. " I am going to Atlanta! " And 
 he moved away. 
 
 Being thus abruptly left by the young Englishman, Jack 
 Surrey walked slowly away in the opposite direction, and 
 resumed the smoking of a cigar which he had held in his 
 hand during his brief conversation with Prouter. He was 
 in no hurry, for he knew that even after he heard the 
 coming of the train for which two others were waiting, 
 some time would be required for the transfer of the bag- 
 gage and mails. So he leisurely walked up and down, and 
 considered the situation. 
 
 He had gone south when he left Bolton and had wan- 
 dered about a good deal, but perpetual bloom in semi- 
 tropical air could not make him forget that he had not 
 been able to have a satisfactory interview with Ardis 
 Claverden in which he could set himself right before her, 
 and know for a certainty if he had any chance of winning 
 her. He gave no weight to her anger at his untimely 
 proposal nor to her subsequent avoidance of him. Noth- 
 ing but a plain, straightforward decision would satisfy him, 
 and he had not lost faith in his own ability to influence 
 that decision. He had heard from a friend in New York 
 that Miss Claverden was staying there with the Chiverleys, 
 and had afterward heard that she had gone south with 
 them. Thinking that most probably this meant that she 
 had returned to Bald Hill and had taken her friends with 
 her, Surrey determined that he also would repair to that 
 hospitable mansion and endeavor to come to an under- 
 standing with Ardis. He believed that her father was his 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 317 
 
 friend, and that in Jack Surrey's opinion ivas not a bad 
 element on his side. 
 
 But when he heard from Prouter that Ardis was not at 
 Bald Hill his plans were upset, and he now set himself at 
 work to endeavor to reshape them. As going south in 
 her case did not mean a return to her home, what did it 
 mean? He was almost certain that she and the Chiver- 
 leys were not in Florida, for Jack Surrey, when travelling, 
 was a man who kept himself posted in regard to arrivals. 
 Atlanta was suggested by the fact that Prouter was going 
 there. That region would be attractive to artists, even 
 in winter time, and perhaps they were on their way to 
 New Orleans. Prouter's going to Atlanta was a fairly 
 good clew, for he knew that the young Englishman had 
 strong inclinations in the direction of Ardis, and he thought 
 it probable that nothing would be more likely to take him 
 to Atlanta than the fact that that young lady was there. 
 
 When Surrey had fully considered the subject, it seemed 
 plain to him that not only would it be folly to go on to 
 Bald Hill, but that if he desired to travel Ardis-ward he 
 might as well go to Atlanta as anywhere else. For a 
 moment he thought of asking Prouter plainly where she 
 was, but this would unveil his intentions, and he believed 
 the young man capable of sending him on a wrong track. 
 
 Having arrived at the end of his considerations Mr. 
 Surrey stepped to the ticket office, made some arrange- 
 ments there, and a few minutes afterward, Tom Prouter, 
 who was again in his seat and engaged with his novel, saw 
 him enter the car, preceded by a colored porter carrying a 
 bag. The man came directly up to Prouter, and turn- 
 ing to Mr. Surrey said : 
 
 " You can have the upper berth of this section, sir, and 
 that's the only one left. I'll make up the beds whenever 
 you are ready, gentlemen." 
 
318 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 Prouter laid down his book and gazed with indignation 
 at Surrey. "What's the matter? " he said. "This train 
 doesn't go North." 
 
 " I know that," said Surrey, preparing to occupy the 
 seat opposite Prouter, "but I am going South. In this 
 country people are allowed to change their minds." 
 
 Prouter sat up very straight, and looked much as if he 
 would like to change his mind and go North. " To what 
 place in the South? " he asked abruptly. 
 
 "Atlanta," said Surrey, as he arranged himself and his 
 effects on the seat. 
 
 For some moments Prouter said nothing, but gazed 
 fiercely at the other. What in the name of all that was 
 villanous did this mean? Why did this man suddenly 
 determine to go to Atlanta? Could he suspect that Dim- 
 worth was there? How could he suspect it? The name 
 had not been mentioned. At least Prouter thought not. 
 He racked his brains to try to remember if he had said 
 anything about him. And what could Surrey want with 
 Dunworth? He had no interest in milk or cows, and 
 therefore could not be expected to interfere with him. 
 But he remembered that Surrey and Dunworth were rivals, 
 and although he considered himself well up in his knowl- 
 edge of America, he did not know what were the customs 
 of rivals in this country, but he vowed to himself that if 
 there was to be a quarrel he would see to it that his busi- 
 ness was settled before Dunworth's mind was disturbed 
 by extraneous matters. But above all, how did Mr. Sur- 
 rey know that Dunworth was in Atlanta? And why did 
 he so suddenly determine to go there? 
 
 These were questions too hard for Tom Prouter to de- 
 termine, and he betook himself again to his book. The 
 train had now started, and presently Surrey remarked : 
 
 "I suppose the porter will soon be coming along to 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 319 
 
 arrange these beds. I shall go into the smoking-room. 
 Do you smoke? " 
 
 "No," said Prouter without raising his eyes from his 
 book. 
 
 Surrey found the smoking-room unoccupied, and he 
 established himself comfortably in a corner. About five 
 minutes afterward Prouter entered, and, seating himself 
 as far away from the other as possible, proceeded to fill 
 and light a short brown pipe. 
 
 "I thought you said you did not smoke," remarked 
 Surrey. 
 
 " In this country," retorted Prouter, "people are allowed 
 to change their minds." 
 
 Surrey smiled. " You positively hate me," he said. 
 
 " Yes, I do," answered Prouter shortly. 
 
 " Well," said Surrey, after a few puffs, " I don't particu- 
 larly object on my own account to your state of feeling, 
 but I should think it would be decidedly unpleasant for 
 you. We shall have to travel together for some little 
 time, and I know I should consider it a confounded bore 
 to be obliged to screw my mind up to the hating point, 
 and keep it there until we reached Atlanta. In order to 
 be consistent one has to make himself so extremely dis- 
 agreeable." 
 
 " I don't mind that," said Prouter. 
 
 Surrey laughed. "What was the original row?" he 
 said. " I ask merely from curiosity. I have noticed that 
 you have had this animosity on hand for some time." 
 
 Prouter could not well put into words the reason for 
 his dislike of the other. In fact, he hated Surrey because 
 that individual had always exhibited a certain minor con- 
 tempt for him; and then, again, he hated him because 
 he was a suitor of Miss Claverden, and occupied the posi- 
 tion, in Prouter's eyes, of an impertinent interloper. The 
 
320 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 latter reason was not difficult for Surrey to divine, for 
 Prouter's manner had frequently indicated it. 
 
 " Perhaps I can help you out a little," he said. " Is it 
 on account of any attentions I may have paid to Miss 
 Claverden?" 
 
 " That is part of it," said Prouter. 
 
 " Well," said Surrey, <c it is a satisfaction to know just 
 how the case stands, and if it is interesting to you to keep 
 up your enmity I am sure I have no objections. I will 
 merely say, however, that your attentions to Miss Claver- 
 den do not trouble me at all. You see what a charitable 
 mind I have." 
 
 "Humph!" said Prouter. "A charitable mind is 
 beastly." 
 
 The next morning these two uncongenial companions 
 took breakfast together at a wayside station ; Surrey seat- 
 ing himself in the first chair as he entered the room, and 
 Prouter taking a place at the other end of a long table. 
 
 "How is the enmity this morning?" asked Surrey as 
 they came out together. " Hot as ever, I suppose ? I 
 wish I had had a little of it to put into my coffee, for the 
 stuff was decidedly cool." 
 
 "It's beastly tiresome," said Prouter sharply, "that 
 you don't get angry. If you were half a man you would 
 show it." 
 
 " But I am not half a man," said Surrey, " as I am pre- 
 pared to show whenever occasion requires." 
 
 There was not much conversation during the rest of 
 the journey, for Prouter invariably went into the smoking- 
 room when Surrey was in his seat ; and if the latter came 
 into the little compartment, the former returned to his 
 seat. To sit opposite and close to a man to whom he 
 was obliged on principle to exhibit ill-will would have 
 been a difficult task to the young Englishman, whose 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 321 
 
 genial and companionable nature was not adapted to that 
 sort of thing. 
 
 Surrey thought it wise not to say anything to the other 
 about the object of his journey. Several times he had felt 
 inclined to ask some questions, but, on second thoughts, 
 decided to keep quiet. He felt quite sure from Prouter's 
 manner toward him that Ardis was in Atlanta, and that 
 the young man was going to see her. If that were the 
 case he would also see her ; and if she were not there it 
 would be well to make his inquiries of some one other 
 than Prouter. 
 
 They reached Atlanta about the middle of the after- 
 noon, and Tom Prouter immediately began to lock him- 
 self up as if he had been an iron safe. It might have been 
 supposed that he had been sufficiently shut up before, but 
 now one might almost imagine the click of the patent 
 locks as he buttoned up his coat, firmly closed his lips, 
 and with bag and umbrella in hand, and eyes staring 
 straight in front of him, strode out of the station. He 
 paid no attention to the importunities of hack drivers, for 
 Surrey might be near and would hear the address he 
 would have to give the man. He had never been in 
 Atlanta, and had no idea of the situation of Didman's 
 Hotel. His only present object was to get away from 
 Surrey. When he had accomplished this he would inquire 
 about the hotel. He walked away rapidly, not caring 
 whether he turned to the right or the left; but in less 
 than a minute Surrey was walking by his side. 
 
 "You don't intend to take a carriage? " said the latter. 
 
 " No," replied Prouter, turning upon him fiercely. 
 
 " If you had done so, I was thinking of joining you," 
 remarked Surrey. " Have you far to walk? " 
 
 Prouter stopped short and glared at him. " It is none 
 of your business," he said, "whether I go far or near. 
 21 
 
322 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 You can go your way, and I shall go mine. I don't want 
 you to take a cab with me, or walk with me, or have 
 anything to do with me." 
 
 Surrey smiled. " You keep up the enmity admirably," 
 he said. " It is the most interesting case of the kind I 
 ever met with. But you will allow me to say that I came 
 to Atlanta because you were on your way here. Atlanta 
 is open to the public, and I have a right to come to it. 
 If you are now going to any place of public entertainment, 
 I have as much right as you have to go there and I shall 
 exercise that right. Of course if you go to a private house, 
 that is another matter. But if you do not wish me to 
 walk with you I shall take to the other side of the street. 
 If you choose to project your enmity over there through 
 the trucks and wagons I do not object." 
 
 Prouter gave vent to an angry ejaculation and passed 
 on with quick, strong strides, turning aside for no one. 
 He was furious. How could he rid himself of this fel- 
 low? He felt inclined to take advantage of the loop-hole 
 of escape which had been offered him by his enemy, and 
 actually contemplated going up to the first private house 
 he came to and asking permission to remain there for ten 
 minutes. Americans had so many unconventional customs 
 that this might not be considered an odd request ; but 
 he was in a business street and passed no private houses. 
 As he became warm by exercise he walked more and 
 more rapidly; thus hoping to distance his persistent fol- 
 lower, and by turning some corner to elude him. 
 
 But Surrey, who was unencumbered with anything save 
 a light bag which hung by a strap from his shoulder, easily 
 kept up with him. Prouter, looking neither to the right 
 nor to the left, strode past a large building without re- 
 garding it; but Surrey, his gaze constantly thrown across 
 the street, in order that he might not lose sight of the 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 323 
 
 other, saw standing upon the portico of this building a 
 man whom he recognized. He immediately ran across 
 the street, caught up to Prouter, slapped him on the 
 shoulder, and exclaimed: "Hold up! Didn't you see 
 Dr. Lester as you passed that hotel? " 
 
 Prouter stopped. "Dr. Lester!" he exclaimed. 
 
 " Yes," said Surrey. " If you don't want to see him 
 you can go on. I shall go back to him." 
 
 Prouter did not hesitate. "Dr. Lester! " he exclaimed 
 again. "What is the meaning of that?" And he im- 
 mediately walked back with Surrey to the hotel. 
 
 When Dr. Lester, standing near the door of Did- 
 man's Hotel, saw these two men coming up the steps 
 toward him, his heart sank. He was not in a very happy 
 mood anyway, although he had been assuring himself over 
 and over that he ought now to be one of the most cheer- 
 ful fellows alive, and when his eyes suddenly fell upon 
 Prouter and Surrey, full of life, vigor, and animation, he 
 was almost as much shocked as when he came upon the 
 two immovable men hanging from the limb of the great 
 oak tree. 
 
 To Prouter by himself he would have had no particular 
 objection, but in the doctor's eyes he seemed to be bring- 
 ing with him the most direful of evils. Surrey was the 
 cause of the misery that had been just passed through. 
 He could reappear only as the cause of further misery. 
 What this further misery could be, or how it could be 
 caused, the doctor did not consider. Surrey had come ; 
 that was enough! 
 
 Tom Prouter rushed up to Dr. Lester and imme- 
 diately seized him by the hand. "By George! sir! " he 
 exclaimed. " I did not expect to see you here. And is 
 Mr. Dun worth with you? Where is he? Can I see him? " 
 
 The doctor did not immediately answer. He had been 
 
324 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 so reticent in regard to Dun worth that this habit of pru- 
 dence had not yet left him. But a moment's reflection 
 showed him that there was no reason whatever why all 
 the world should not know that Dunworth was here ; and 
 he informed Prouter that that gentleman was stopping at 
 this hotel, but that at present he was not in the house. 
 He believed, however, that he would shortly return. 
 
 On receiving this intelligence Tom Prouter immediately 
 left the doctor, and established himself in an arm-chair on 
 the piazza in a position where he could see every one who 
 came up the steps, and could also have a good view up 
 and down the street. At all hazards his business with 
 Dunworth must be arranged before Surrey had had an 
 opportunity to distract his mind. 
 
 Surrey's meeting with the doctor was neither hasty nor 
 enthusiastic, but it was marked with easy civility on the 
 one side and a severe frigidity on the other. Surrey ap- 
 parently took no notice of the doctor's forbidding manner, 
 and after a few casual remarks inquired if Miss Claverden 
 were with the party at the hotel. Under other circum- 
 stances this question would have surprised the doctor; 
 but the moment he saw Surrey he was sure that he had 
 come after Ardis, and the first shock had been followed 
 by a sickness of heart which Surrey's words had no power 
 to increase. He made no conjectures in regard to the 
 manner in which this man had discovered that Ardis was 
 in Atlanta. She or any one of the party might have written 
 the information to friends, but it was a matter of no im- 
 portance. Surrey was here ; that was the only thing to be 
 thought of. 
 
 But while he was thinking, Surrey was waiting for an 
 answer. It was contrary to Dr. Lester's nature to tell a 
 lie ; and, besides, in this case a lie would be foolish and 
 useless. So he answered " Yes." 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 325 
 
 Surrey asked a few questions about the Chiverleys, 
 whom he had heard were Ardis' travelling companions 
 and whom he had met in New York. And when with an 
 apathetic brevity these had been answered, he went into 
 the hotel. He asked nothing about Mr. Dunworth, for 
 he had no reason to suppose he was there, Prouter's ques- 
 tions having been asked in a low tone, when he was at 
 the top of the steps and Surrey at the bottom. 
 
 Having registered his name and ordered that his heavier 
 baggage be brought from the station, Surrey proceeded 
 to the room allotted to him, and put himself into a condi- 
 tion to make an afternoon call upon a lady. When this 
 had been accomplished to his satisfaction he went down- 
 stairs, and sent up his card to Miss Claverden. In a few 
 minutes the waiter returned with the information that the 
 lady would receive him. 
 
 Ardis had been fully prepared for the reception of 
 Surrey's card, for Dr. Lester had lost no time in informing 
 her of the man's arrival. She much amazed her old friend 
 by exhibiting no displeasure at this intelligence, and by 
 actually saying that she should be glad to see Mr. Surrey. 
 
 "After all that has happened ! " exclaimed the doctor. 
 
 Ardis smiled. " It is because of what has happened 
 that I wish to see Mr. Surrey. It is odd that he should 
 be here just at this time, but it happens very well, for the 
 sooner I see him the better." 
 
326 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 WHEN Ardis entered the parlor where Surrey awaited 
 her, there was upon her a radiance of beauty in 
 which no man had ever seen her before. It is true that 
 she had just parted from Dr. Lester, but he had not seen 
 her truly. A cloud had risen before him which dimmed 
 ' all things. 
 
 Nor had Roger looked upon her thus. The party had 
 reached the hotel that morning ; and early in the after- 
 noon, when the Chiverleys had departed for the suburbs 
 of the city to sketch, and Dunworth was away attending 
 to some business prominent in which was the transporta- 
 tion of his horse to Bolton, Ardis had made a total change 
 in her outward appearance. Discarding the somewhat 
 hoydenish travelling costume in which she had journeyed 
 into the back country, she had selected from the trunks 
 which had been left at Atlanta the clothes in which she 
 thought Roger would like her best. Every fold of her 
 light dress, every piece of falling lace, every curl 
 and wave of her dark hair, had been arranged to please 
 Roger. She not only knew his tastes, but she knew how 
 to gratify them, and the joy it gave her to gratify them 
 bestowed an added deftness upon her fingers and an 
 added acuteness to her perceptions of the charms of a 
 toilette. 
 
 And she was also charming because she knew that 
 Roger would think her charming, and the light which this 
 knowledge had thrown into her dark eyes was still there. 
 
 The effect upon Surrey when Ardis entered the room 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 327 
 
 was rather an odd one. The moment his eyes fell upon 
 her the thought flashed into his mind that there had been 
 a mistake, that it was some one else and not himself 
 whom she expected to see. Ardis Claverden had never 
 come like this to welcome him. 
 
 But when with smiling eyes and lips she stepped quickly 
 toward him, he saw that there was no mistake. 
 
 "I am very glad to see you, Mr. Surrey," she said. 
 And the two seated themselves near a window of the va- 
 cant parlor. 
 
 Surrey's words of greeting were few and commonplace. 
 It was seldom that he felt himself thrown from his bal- 
 ance, but he had that feeling now. It did not suit him at 
 all to have Ardis say that she was glad to see him. He 
 had not expected it ; he was not prepared for it ; and he 
 did not understand it. Looking upon the case from his 
 point of view, Ardis ought not to be glad to see him ; or, 
 if she were, she ought not to show it. In their last inter- 
 view he had offended her, and she had been very angry ; 
 and, since that, she had avoided him in a determined 
 manner. He had come prepared to explain, to expostu- 
 late, to plead. He believed himself capable of making 
 her see him in the light in which he wished to be seen ; 
 and when once recognized in that light, he had strong 
 faith in his power of making her feel that he truly loved 
 her. When he had made her feel this Jack Surrey be- 
 lieved that there would be no good reasons for despair. 
 
 But that she should be glad to see him disconcerted 
 him. There must have been some radical change in the 
 condition of things; and how to adapt himself to such a 
 change 'he could not imagine. Ardis did not give him 
 much time for cogitation. 
 
 " I did not expect to meet in Atlanta one I knew," she 
 said, "but I am pleased that it has happened so, for it 
 
328 ARDIS CLAVERDEX. 
 
 gives me an opportunity of making a beginning in my an- 
 nouncements of my engagement to Mr. Roger Dunworth." 
 
 "Roger Dunworth?" said Mr. Surrey. 
 
 " Yes," Ardis answered. 
 
 Jack Surrey was a man who was in the habit of making 
 strong fights. He had had no reason to suppose that 
 Ardis had ever loved him, or that she would hold herself 
 from love of other men until he could persuade her to 
 love him. Without regard to these, or any other condi- 
 tions, he had come to win her, if valiant fight could do it. 
 And even now when he heard she had been won by an- 
 other he could not promptly retire from the field. He 
 was not one who could give up the game when checkmate 
 was called. He must search carefully to see if, by any 
 possibility, he might make another move. It had hap- 
 pened to him in times gone by that he had made another 
 move and had himself called checkmate. 
 
 Not downcast, but with his eyes fixed upon the floor, 
 Surrey sat silent a few moments. Ardis, on her part, re- 
 mained silent also, and leaning back in her easy-chair she 
 looked at him. This man had been the cause to Roger 
 and her of so much misery, and to some of her friends of 
 so much trouble and anxiety, that she might have been 
 excused had she looked with satisfaction, and perhaps 
 with something of triumph, upon his present discomfiture: 
 But she was too happy now to think of what had passed. 
 No thoughts of doubts, of fears, of hardships and dangers 
 came to her now; they were dimmed and lost in the 
 brilliancy of the great joy of knowing that Roger be- 
 longed to her, and she to Roger. 
 
 But although she bore no resentment toward this man 
 who had given her all the real sorrow she had ever known, 
 she did not pity him. In fact, the only feelings she had 
 in his direction were those of gratification that his most 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 329 
 
 unfortunate and unhappy influence upon her life was at 
 an end, and that so soon an opportunity had come to her 
 to show to him promptly and clearly the position which, 
 hereafter, he must occupy toward her. 
 
 All this was very pleasant to Ardis. It was as if some 
 good angel had sent Surrey here in order that the stamp 
 and seal might be put upon the grand transaction of her 
 life. 
 
 Suddenly Surrey looked up. " It is fixed and settled, 
 then," he said, "that you are to marry Mr. Dunworth?" 
 
 " Fixed and settled," replied Ardis. And as she spoke 
 there now first came to her a feeling of triumphant 
 pleasure in the utter defeat of this reckless and obstinate 
 pursuer. This feeling was not a very strong one, nor 
 did it take entire possession of her. But it may have 
 shown itself in the quick, bright flush upon her face, for 
 as Surrey looked at her a shadow seemed to come upon 
 him, and he fixed his eyes upon the floor. 
 
 Presently he looked at her again and said : " You may 
 think I am slow in offering my congratulations." 
 
 Ardis smiled. " I had not thought of it," she said, " but 
 you do seem a little tardy about it." 
 
 " Miss Claverden," said Surrey, " I never spoke a word 
 to you that did not come in all truth and honesty from 
 my heart, and I shall not now begin to speak in a different 
 way. I offer you no congratulations because I have none 
 to offer. This may be blunt, but it is honest/' 
 
 " It is blunt," said Ardis, " uncommonly so. And do 
 you not wish me happiness?" 
 
 " I wish you every happiness that humanity is capable 
 of," said Surrey, " but that is not congratulating you." 
 
 " Perhaps you think," said Ardis, " that if I had made 
 a different choice I might have been a better subject for 
 congratulation." 
 
330 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 11 Since you ask me, 11 said Surrey, " I will answer that I 
 do think so, most decidedly." 
 
 This remark, given in a tone which plainly indicated 
 that he would have been willing, had he been allowed, to 
 point out the better choice, produced such an effect upon 
 the lively spirits of Ardis that she could not forbear a 
 little laugh. " You are charmingly frank," she said. 
 
 " Miss Claverden," said Surrey, turning quickly toward 
 her, "will you tell me one thing? Do I owe to any rash 
 and blundering act of my own the bad fortune which has 
 fallen upon me? " 
 
 " I will speak as plainly as you do," said Ardis, " and 
 will say that the matter was decided independently of 
 anything you could possibly say or do." 
 
 "That may seem crushing," said Surrey, "but in fact it 
 gives me a certain satisfaction. I am glad to know that 
 I do not owe my misfortune to my own folly." 
 
 Ardis laughed again. "Are you as easily satisfied as 
 that?" she said. 
 
 As she spoke, her enjoyment of the ludicrous element 
 of the scene lighting up her face, she turned her eyes and 
 saw Roger Dunworth standing in the middle of the room. 
 
 When Ardis looked upon her lover, although he stood 
 but for a moment, and said not a word, a horrible sicken- 
 ing chill ran through her and she rose to her feet. Her 
 face turned pale, and she opened her mouth to speak. 
 But before she could utter a word Dunworth was gone. 
 
 Surrey rose also. To a degree he comprehended the 
 situation, although he saw no reason for such a strong 
 exhibition of emotion. But he knew his part was played 
 and his exit was in order. 
 
 " I will take leave of you, Miss Claverden," he said, 
 extending his hand. He was about to add some further 
 words, but Ardis simply looked at him without touching 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 331 
 
 the hand he offered. She could not believe that this man 
 had again come between her and Roger; she could not 
 believe that Roger could be so hot-headed and unreason- 
 ing ; but all her old aversion to Surrey suddenly arose in 
 redoubled force, and she shrank from him. She would as 
 soon have touched the paw of a hyena. Surrey bowed, 
 without a word, and left the room. 
 
 When Roger Dunworth returned from his business in 
 the city business very much hastened by his desire to 
 get back to the hotel which held Ardis he was stopped 
 at the front door by the beaming Tom Prouter. Roger 
 was, of course, greatly amazed to see the young man, but 
 was also very much pleased. In his present frame of 
 mind it delighted him to meet a friend and neighbor ; and 
 in a moment he was plunged into a conversation about 
 cows, milk pans, and wagons. 
 
 The young Englishman gave his mind solely to the 
 business on hand. He made no allusion to the fact that 
 Surrey had come with him, for he felt sure that this in- 
 formation would distract Dun worth's attention ; and, once 
 distracted, he might not be able to get hold of it again. 
 Dunworth did not want a milk route, but he was in such 
 a pleasant and accommodating mood that he allowed 
 himself to be impressed by Prouter's arguments ; and 
 when he arose he promised Prouter that as soon as possi- 
 ble after he reached home he would go and. look at his 
 stock, and would then come to a final decision in the 
 matter. Prouter was so well satisfied with this result that 
 he considered he had made a virtual sale of the greater 
 part at least of his fortune-sapping property; and he 
 went to the office to engage a room for the night. 
 
 Dunworth hurried up into the parlor where he hoped to 
 find Ardis. He had advanced well into the room, when 
 his progress was suddenly stopped by the sight of the lady 
 
332 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 for whom he was looking seated near Surrey by one of 
 the windows. The unexpected sight of Surrey was 
 enough to astonish Dunworth, but to see Ardis seated by 
 him engaged in what appeared to be a very intimate and 
 interesting conversation astounded and shocked him. 
 But that which affected him more than anything else was 
 the appearance of Ardis. He had left her a girlish figure 
 in a short blue suit very much the worse for wear, and 
 her charming face shaded by a soft felt hat. He now 
 saw her, beautiful in his eyes beyond all expression. He 
 saw her arrayed in flowing folds of soft white cashmere, 
 lace and silk; a narrow velvet ribbon round her neck 
 from which hung a sparkling jewel ; bands of gold about 
 her round, white wrists ; and the beauty of every feature 
 intensified by the light that came from her happy heart. 
 
 And all this for Surrey ! 
 
 Dunworth was not a man who could readily express his 
 emotions in words. In fact, deep emotion for the moment 
 silenced him. What he had seen had been seen at a 
 glance. The effect was equally instantaneous. Every- 
 thing had suddenly and absolutely changed. He ought not 
 to be here. As quickly as he had entered he turned and 
 went out. 
 
 The instant that Ardis was left alone she rose and rang 
 the bell. When a waiter appeared she sent him to find 
 Mr. Dunworth and to ask him to come to her. Then she 
 sat down to wait, and very shortly it came upon her that 
 she had done a foolish thing. Why should she so dis- 
 compose herself ? Why should she send for Roger ? He 
 had come in, he had gone out, and would come back 
 when he was ready to do so. Perhaps he did not wish to 
 speak to Mr. Surrey. That would be natural enough. 
 But all her reasoning could not take the chill from her 
 heart. It grew colder and colder. 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 333 
 
 The man returned and reported that Mr. Dunworth 
 had gone out. Then Ardis sent for Dr. Lester; and 
 when he came she told him, briefly but clearly, what had 
 happened. 
 
 But the doctor was not in a condition to give her com- 
 fort. The heart-chill had come upon him an hour or 
 more before it had struck her. His quick sensibilities had 
 told him that a blight was about to fall upon the woman 
 he loved ; and now that it had fallen, the manner of its 
 fall was of little import. But if he allowed this almost 
 superstitious despair to take hold of him, he would not 
 show it to Ardis. 
 
 " I will go and find Roger, " he said. " I will explain 
 everything to him and will bring him to you." 
 
 " There is nothing to explain," said Ardis, with a little 
 flush. 
 
 " Of course not," said the doctor. " But you want to 
 see him ; that is enough. I will go and tell him so." 
 
334 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 ROGER DUNWORTH was not naturally a jealous 
 man, nor was he one who often allowed his anger 
 to get the better of him ; but of all men he had ever met 
 with, Surrey possessed the greatest power of exciting in 
 him jealousy or anger. The cool assumption of the elder 
 man could not fail to arouse the hot resentment of the 
 other. 
 
 But as Dunworth walked quickly out of the parlor and 
 down the stairs, and through the wide public hall into the 
 street, he was neither jealous nor angry. His emotions 
 had not crystallized themselves into any definite form. 
 As has been said before, he had received a shock, and, in 
 a manner, he had been stunned. 
 
 There was nothing in the world at this time of any 
 importance to Roger Dunworth compared to the facts 
 that he and Ardis loved each other; that they were to 
 marry and live together all their lives. All that he in- 
 tended to do, and all that he hoped to accomplish, was to 
 be done for her and to be done with her. He had never 
 loved any one but Ardis, and it seemed to him that he 
 had loved her all his life. Now she belonged to him and 
 he to her, and this was the great truth of his existence. 
 
 Upon a mind in this sensitive and exalted state the 
 vision of his betrothed, more beautiful than she had ever 
 appeared before him, closeted, as it were, with an ab- 
 horred rival, struck upon him with a powerful and peculiar 
 force. 
 
 As he walked rapidly up the street his most powerful 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDP:N. 335 
 
 motive was to get away from Surrey. This was the first 
 thing to do. Then all manner of conjectures rushed 
 wildly upon him. Why did the man come here ? How 
 did he know Ardis was here ? Had she expected him ? 
 And why had she not spoken of it ? And what did she 
 mean by asking Surrey if he could be satisfied with so 
 little ? the only words Roger Dunworth had heard. 
 
 As he walked and thought and his mind became some- 
 what clearer, he firmly determined he would do one thing. 
 No matter how this meeting and conversation had come 
 about, he would not be jealous of Ardis, he would not 
 doubt her. He was sure that she would tell him every- 
 thing. Having told him that she loved him, he did not 
 in the least expect that she would now tell him that she 
 loved another. Whatever explanation she might give 
 him, he would dispassionately hear, and although he might 
 not like what he heard, he knew that Ardis was reason- 
 able as well as true, and he did not doubt she would give 
 him a fair hearing, and act justly. Above all things he 
 would not doubt her. 
 
 But he could not talk to her nor hear her talk while 
 Surrey was there. He must give that man time to get 
 away. And so he walked and walked, and tried to think 
 over the whole matter; and the worst thing a man like 
 Roger Dunworth could do was to walk and walk and try 
 to think over the whole matter. He thought so much 
 and walked so long that at last he was surprised to find 
 that it was growing dark. 
 
 As he retraced his steps toward the hotel he began to 
 feel uneasy in regard to his own conduct. Surrey must 
 have left Ardis a long time before; and although she 
 might excuse Roger's abrupt withdrawal from the room, 
 she must wonder at his protracted absence. He did not 
 wish her to imagine for an instant that he believed her to 
 
336 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 be less loyal than himself, and his heart smote him as he 
 thought that he had given her reason for such supposition. 
 
 Dr. Lester had gone out in search of Roger, but the 
 young man had turned up a by-street which led into the 
 country, and the doctor could not go into all the by-streets 
 which led into the country. The Chiverleys had re- 
 turned from their sketching expedition, and wondered 
 why Roger was not there and why Ardis was not ready 
 for her dinner. 
 
 Ardis had waited in the parlor for a long time, but 
 neither Roger nor the doctor returned, and at last she 
 began to feel that she had not only been chilled but that 
 she had been wounded. Was Roger a man who always 
 took offense and showed resentment without giving the 
 slightest oportunity for explanation ? His action plainly 
 showed that he considered there was cause for disap- 
 proval of her; and even if she could admit that she had 
 given him apparent reason for such supposition, he had 
 no right to act upon it alone. After all that had hap- 
 pened, he should have been the last man to make up his 
 mind in a case like this without hearing what she had to 
 say about it. 
 
 After thinking a long, long time she went up into her 
 room. She did not wish to see any one until she saw 
 Roger. Of course her friends could easily imagine the 
 nature of what had occurred, especially as a similar thing 
 had occurred before. Surrey had come there; Roger had 
 gone away; it was plain enough what they would think. 
 She was ashamed, and growing angry. No matter what 
 had happened, Roger should not have treated her thus. 
 
 On his way back Roger became more and more con- 
 vinced that he had made a grave mistake by precipitately 
 leaving the hotel and staying away so long, and yet he 
 could not compose his mind into the proper condition to 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 337 
 
 speak to Ardis as he wished to speak to her. Visions of 
 Surrey continually arose before him, and dispelled the 
 earnest gentleness with which he intended to clothe his 
 thoughts. The evening was well advanced when he went 
 into a restaurant and ordered a meal. He believed that 
 rested and refreshed he would be better able to do what 
 was before him. 
 
 When at last he reached the hotel he had decided to 
 go immediately to the parlor; and if Ardis were not there, 
 to send for her and request an interview. As he passed 
 through the lower hall he saw no one he knew except 
 Prouter, in an adjoining room with his back toward him 
 sitting at a table against the wall, busily writing. It now 
 struck Roger that he would like to see Dr. Lester. It 
 might be well to have a word with this good friend before 
 proceeding further. 
 
 He turned aside and went into the reading-room. There 
 was only one man there, and that man was Mr. Surrey. 
 As Roger entered the other looked up from his paper. 
 
 These two men had frequently met but had had very 
 little to say to each other. Apart from the fact that he 
 was bound upon general principles to object to the exist- 
 ence of a man who was his rival, Surrey had not cared 
 about Dunworth to an extent sufficient to make him dis- 
 like him. 
 
 This evening the mind of Mr. Surrey was in as gloomy 
 and melancholy a condition as its owner had ever per- 
 mitted it to enter. His love for Ardis had truly been the 
 most ardent and earnest of his life, and his reliance upon 
 himself had been so great that his belief in his ultimate 
 success had never wavered. But now he knew for a 
 certainty that Ardis belonged to another, and that he 
 must with the best grace possible admit his absolute and 
 definite defeat. This was a duty which hitherto he had 
 22 
 
338 ARDIS CLAVEKDEN. 
 
 so seldom been called upon to perform that he found he 
 was rather rusty at it. He would allow himself, however, 
 no trifling with himself. The affair was settled, and thus 
 was nothing left for him to do but to settle himself as well 
 and as soon as he might. In pursuance of this resolution 
 he had determined to let every one see that he had ac- 
 cepted the fortunes of war. He would show no ill-will 
 toward any one concerned in the matter, no bad feeling 
 whatever, and if by frank exhibition of a generous nature, 
 he should provoke the slightest feeling of regretfulness in 
 the mind of Miss Claverden, he would accept the evidence 
 of such feeling as a palliation for his misfortune. 
 
 Toward Dunworth he intended to show a marked 
 magnanimity. It was not the young countryman's fault if 
 Ardis preferred him to an accomplished man of the world 
 who knew what a thoroughbred woman needed to make 
 her happy; and his success was no just cause for enmity. 
 In fact, Surrey considered it pure nonsense to be angry 
 with any one. He liked to be on good terms with people 
 or on no terms at all. 
 
 These conclusions were logical and sensible, but Mr. 
 Surrey had not adopted them without first throwing his 
 mind into a very perturbed and unhealthy condition. He 
 had called the matter settled, however, and had taken up 
 the paper hoping to divert his mind into a more restful 
 condition. But when he looked up and perceived Dun- 
 worth standing within a few yards of him and saw his face 
 darkened by an uncontrollable expression of antipathy 
 and even abhorrence suddenly called up by this unex- 
 pected meeting, all his good resolutions vanished and 
 hot anger came to the front. 
 
 " Stop that ! " he said fiercely, throwing down the paper. 
 " I want you to stop looking at me in that way ! You 
 have done it before and I have had enough of it ! " 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 339 
 
 "I shall look as I please," said Dunworth without 
 moving. 
 
 " No, you shall not ! " said Surrey, rising to the feet. 
 " At least, you shall not look at me as you please ! It is 
 my private opinion you are an ass ! You have behaved 
 like a spoiled child ; and now that you have got what you 
 want you are not satisfied and stand up there and make 
 faces. Now, I wish you to understand that so far as I am 
 concerned this sort of thing may as well come to an end." 
 
 When Surrey had finished, Roger, without a word, made 
 two quick strides toward him, but before he reached him 
 a man slipped quickly in between the two. It was the 
 clerk of the hotel who had been attracted by Surrey's loud 
 and angry voice. 
 
 " Gentlemen," he said, " we can have no personal alter- 
 cation in this hotel." 
 
 Roger was quite able to hurl the interfering clerk out of 
 the open door, but this sort of thing was wholly foreign to 
 his nature and education. Although without hesitation 
 ready to resent an affront, his inherited ideas taught him 
 that a gentleman should not indulge in a broil. 
 
 " I shall settle this matter in another way," he said as 
 he left the room. 
 
 "All right ! " Surrey shouted after him. "Settle it as 
 you please ! I shall be ready for you ! " 
 
 Dunworth went into the room where Prouter was writ- 
 ing and interrupted his scratching pen. " Prouter," said 
 he, touching him on the shoulder, " I want you to do 
 something for me." 
 
 " What is it ? " exclaimed Prouter, pushing back his 
 chair and springing to his feet. " Name your business. 
 I am your man." 
 
 "I want you to take a challenge from me to Mr. 
 Surrey, who is in this hotel." 
 
340 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 Prouter whistled. "Ho! ho!" he cried. "Here is 
 a go! Do you mean to fight a duel ? " 
 
 "Exactly that," said Dunworth. "That man has 
 foully insulted me. I presume he is not such a particular 
 friend of yours that you will object to be my second." 
 
 " Friend ! " exclaimed Prouter. " I hate him from his 
 hat to his boot heels. He came down here with me and 
 made me angry enough to break his head with a beer 
 bottle. Oh, this is larks, my boy ! I'll be your second, 
 quick as lightning. Now what have I got to do ? Just 
 let me finish off this letter and post it. It is to my 
 mother in England, telling her I have sold the milk route. 
 It will make her happy, and it's the regular thing to send 
 off a letter like this before a duel. Now just let me skip 
 over to the desk and get a tuppence-ha'penny stamp, and 
 then I'm ready for you." 
 
 Dunworth took no notice of the precipitate assumption 
 that he had actually concluded his bargain with Prouter 
 when he had merely shown a favorable disposition in regard 
 to it. In a moment the young Englishman came bound- 
 ing back to him. 
 
 " Now, what am I to do ? " asked Prouter. " All I 
 know about duels I got from Charles O'Malley; but 
 Charles was a good touchy fellow, and I don't doubt he 
 knew what he was about. I am ready to go in any way 
 you like ; Irish fashion with pistols, or sprigs of shilaly ; 
 French style with rapiers ; or American style with lassos 
 or whatever way you do it over here. Name your tipple." 
 
 "All you have to do," said Dunworth, "is to go to Mr. 
 Surrey and tell him that I insist on satisfaction for his 
 insult to me. He can either apologize or meet me, 
 whichever suits him better. As to time, place, weapons, 
 and all that you can arrange with his second. I think you 
 will find Mr. Surrey in the reading-room." 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 341 
 
 "Good!" oried Prouter. "And I'll plump it on him 
 without waiting a minute. By George ! this is larks! 
 Lots better than serving milk, I can tell you! " 
 
 Prouter now hastened away, and Dunworth walked 
 very slowly toward the broad stairs which led up to the 
 parlor floor. He was trying to make up his mind what 
 he should say to Ardis. Of course he could not tell her 
 of the business on which he had sent Prouter. But he 
 had not yet had time to decide how he should explain to 
 her his abrupt departure and his long absence from the 
 hotel. As he went up the stairs he determined that he 
 would be perfectly frank with her. He would tell her 
 how he came to suddenly leave the room ; why his mind 
 had been so greatly troubled; and what he had been 
 thinking and resolving. She should know everything 
 except his recent meeting with Surrey. Then she should 
 tell him what she had to say, and they would talk over the 
 matter earnestly and kindly. That was the way in which 
 every apparent difference between Ardis and himself 
 should now be settled. 
 
 But when he reached the parlor he found only Mr. 
 and Mrs. Chiverley, who were very anxious about him. 
 They were certain something had happened, but did not 
 know what it was ; for Dr. Lester had again gone out to 
 look for Roger, and Ardis had been entirely reticent on 
 the subject of her lover's non-appearance and had early 
 retired to her room. 
 
 Roger eagerly inquired for Ardis. Mrs. Chiverley 
 jumped up and said she would go to her room and get 
 her to come down. The little lady was delighted to fly 
 upon this errand. She had heard of the arrival of Surrey, 
 although she had not seen him, and she was afraid he had 
 occasioned some new trouble between Ardis and Roger, 
 and that the latter had perhaps gone away to South 
 
342 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 America or to Europe. But now she was sure that 
 everything must be all right, for here was the lover 
 anxious to see his lady. 
 
 Mrs. Chiverley found her friend preparing to retire. It 
 was quite plain that the information that Roger was in 
 the parlor desiring greatly to see her, gave Ardis relief 
 and pleasure ; but she did not consent to go down. To 
 go into the parlor now to receive explanations or to give 
 them would be very formal business. Whatever Roger 
 had to say to her, she had a great deal to say to him, and 
 the public parlor at this hour was no place for such a 
 conversation. They could meet early in the morning, 
 and then, if they chose, could take a walk and have their 
 talk. 
 
 " Do you know how late it is ? " she said. " It is nearly 
 ten o'olock. I shall not go down again to-night. I think 
 you must be tired enough to go to bed, my dear, but if 
 you intend to return to the parlor, and should see Mr. 
 Dunworth, will you tell him that I shall be up early, and 
 will see him to-morrow morning before breakfast ? " And 
 she gave Mrs. Chiverley a good-night kiss. 
 
 " Whatever has happened," thought that lady, as she 
 went down-stairs, " and I don't believe it was anything of 
 importance, I wish Mr. Dunworth had had that kiss." 
 
 Roger was greatly downcast by the message, and sat 
 silently gazing upon the floor. Mr. Chiverley was talking 
 to a little girl belonging to a party at the other end of the 
 room, and who had found out that he was a natural friend 
 of children; but while he talked to the child his eyes 
 were anxiously fixed upon Roger. A quick thought now 
 flashed into the mind of Mrs. Chiverley. Calling the 
 child to her, she took her rosy face between her hands 
 and kissed her. 
 
 " Do you see that gentleman over there ? " she whis- 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEK. 343 
 
 pered. " Go to him and give him that kiss and tell him 
 it is from Miss Ardis." 
 
 " Are you Miss Ardis ? " asked the little girl. 
 
 "No," said Mrs. Chiverley, smiling, "but she gave it 
 to me, and I gave it to you, and I want you to give it to 
 him." 
 
 The child laughed. " That is funny ! " she said. " I'll 
 go and do it! " 
 
 The little girl approached Roger, and in a low voice 
 said to him: "Please put down your head, sir. I have a 
 kiss that belongs to you." 
 
 Roger looked at her for a moment as if he were trying 
 to fix his thoughts upon her, and then he said : " What do 
 you mean, little girl ? " 
 
 " It is only a kiss," she said, " and it comes from Miss 
 Ardis. Do you want it ? " 
 
 The sudden joy that flashed into the face of Roger 
 startled the child and she stepped back ; but in an instant 
 she was caught in his strong arms and lifted to his face. 
 
 " That is all," she said, with a little struggle. " Put 
 me down." The moment her feet touched the floor she 
 slipped from him, and with a little laugh over her shoulder, 
 ran away. 
 
 "Josie, where have you been?" asked her mother 
 when the child joined the group at the other end of the 
 room. 
 
 "I have been carrying kisses," she said, "just like a 
 postman delivers letters, except that I only had one." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " exclaimed her mother. " To 
 whom did you take a kiss ? " 
 
 " To a very nice gentleman, mamma, and a lady sent 
 it." 
 
 "Josie, I am perfectly amazed! " 
 
 " Mamma," said the child, standing up very straight 
 
344 ARDIS CLAVERDEX. 
 
 and flushing a little, " You need not begin ;o scold me, 
 for I am sure that if you had known how glad he would be 
 to get it, you would have been perfectly willing to carry it 
 yourself." 
 
 Mrs. Chiverley had seen how glad he was to get the 
 kiss, and the sight sent her to bed happy. " If that is 
 the way he feels," she said to herself, " there is certainly 
 nothing the matter. And even if there has been the least 
 little cloud between them, it will blow away the minute 
 they come together." And the little deception she had 
 practised did not weigh upon her conscience in the least. 
 
ARDIS CLATERDEN. 345 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 ROGER went to his room jubilant. If Ardis had sent 
 a little girl to give him a kiss, it showed that this 
 was still a world of joy, in which she was the noblest, 
 loveliest being breathing. There was something so 
 charming, so delicate and yet so forcible, in the means 
 which she had taken to show him that although she did 
 not come down to him she did not wish him to forget that 
 she was his very own, that the enraptured lover could 
 scarcely restrain himself from bursting into triumphant 
 song. He had not long luxuriated in these delightful 
 emotions when Tom Prouter came in. 
 
 " All settled ! " exclaimed the young Englishman. 
 " Everything ready and right as a trivet ! By George \ 
 I am glad to see you in as highcockalorum a humor 
 as I am! And I don't wonder at it. The thought of 
 punishing such a downright rascal as that Surrey is enough 
 to put anybody in good spirits. Do you know what he 
 did when I took him your challenge ? He accepted 
 it instanter and then he burst out laughing because I 
 brought it. He said my bringing him a challenge fitted 
 in more beautifully than anything he had ever seen. It 
 was such an absurdly perfect fit that it was positively 
 ludicrous. By George! he made me so angry that I was 
 ready to take a second mortgage on him myself ! " 
 
 " What have you settled upon ? " asked Roger. 
 
 " The first thing we did, " said Prouter, " was to get 
 him a second. He don't know anybody here, and you 
 told me you didn't want Dr. Lester or your friends to 
 
346 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 know anything about it. So we got the day clerk of the 
 hotel. The night clerk said he would be perfectly willing 
 to oblige us, but he had to be on duty until breakfast 
 and so couldn't get away at daybreak. But the other 
 clerk got up out of his bed and talked over the matter 
 with us, and was as obliging as anybody could be. In 
 fact, he managed the whole thing. He provided the 
 pistols, fixed the time, and said he knew of an excellent 
 place not far from the hotel where we would run no risk 
 of being disturbed at an early hour in the morning. Now, 
 really, Mr. Dunworth, your hotels are very different from 
 ours. You can call for a cocktail, a theatre ticket, or a 
 second in a duel. By George, sir! I believe if you rang 
 your bell and ordered an articulated skeleton the waiter 
 would bring it up! " 
 
 " It is decided then," said Dunworth, " that we are to 
 meet early in the morning ? " 
 
 " That's it," said his lively second, " and you need give 
 yourself no further trouble about it. Til call you when 
 it's time to get ready to go." 
 
 Prouter left Roger Dunworth in a very different mood 
 from that in which he had found him. When he thought 
 of the cold-blooded performance which was to take place 
 the next morning, he cursed in his heart the man who had 
 brought this thing upon him at this time, when life was 
 just opening before him in all its true glory and joy. He 
 felt a fierce impatience for the hour to come when he 
 might destroy and utterly put out of the way this demon 
 of bad omen, who seemed continually to rise between 
 him and happiness. Otherwise, at the very marriage 
 altar he might expect him to appear. 
 
 But at this thought the tenor of his feelings changed. 
 There might be no marriage altar ! What a dreadful 
 business it was that at the very opening of his new life he 
 
ARDIS CLA VERDEN. 347 
 
 should voluntarily allow this life to depend upon the ar- 
 rangements of the hotel clerk and Prouter and upon the 
 accuracy of Surrey's aim ! Reason was ready to tell him 
 that he had no more right to thus expose the life he had 
 given to Ardis Claverden than he had to recklessly ex- 
 pose to peril anything else which she held dear, and which 
 was her own. But before his inherited ideas of honor 
 reason was obliged to step aside. To be a coward was 
 for him simply impossible, and to his mind nothing could 
 be more cowardly than to shrink from this combat. 
 He could not appear before Ardis knowing that he had 
 saved himself for her by an act of cowardice. 
 
 Although his feelings of indignation and abhorrence 
 toward Surrey did not, in the least, abate, he no longer 
 felt that savage desire to annihilate him. If he died, it 
 should be with clean hands ; and if he lived, it should be 
 with clean hands. His idea of courage was to face death, 
 not to inflict it. 
 
 It was a long time before Roger went to sleep. But 
 when he dreamed it was of the kiss that Ardis had sent 
 him, and not of the affairs of the next morning. 
 
 Ardis slept well, without dreams, and having gone to 
 sleep so soon, she awoke very early the next morning. 
 It was just beginning to be light, but she could see it was 
 going to be a very beautiful day. She had slept with her 
 window curtains drawn and one of the sashes raised. 
 The weather was very mild, even for this region, and the air 
 which came through the window was balmy and delicious. 
 The days were lengthening; and when Ardis palled her 
 watch from under her pillow she saw that it was even 
 earlier than she supposed, and so she lay down again and 
 thought. 
 
 Her thoughts were very pleasant ones. Her resentment 
 toward Roger had entirely died away, and the fact that he 
 
348 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 had wanted to see her proved that he was in a satisfactory 
 state of mind. If he had behaved foolishly he would get 
 a scolding, and no doubt that would do him good. But 
 she would not even assume that he had behaved foolishly. 
 She would wait and hear what he had to say; that was just 
 and fair. It might be something had occurred which he 
 could not mention before Mr. Surrey. This state of the 
 case did not appear very probable, but she would wait 
 and hear. Whatever Roger told her she knew would be 
 the absolute truth. 
 
 She now began to calculate how soon she might get up. 
 She did not want to be wandering about the hotel before 
 other people were out of their beds. 
 
 "At eight o'clock," she said to herself, "we shall 
 breakfast, if we are to leave in the morning train. At 
 half-past seven Roger will surely be down-stairs, probably 
 waiting in the parlor, and then we can have a walk and a 
 talk. I have no doubt he is as wildly anxious for a talk 
 as I am. I shall need half an hour to dress, so I suppose 
 I ought not to get up before seven." 
 
 The hotel was at some distance from the bigness part 
 of the town, and in its rear were gardens, and a grove 
 stretching away into the suburbs. The birds were now 
 beginning to sing and chirp, and as Ardis lay and listened 
 to them she envied them. " They can get up when they 
 please," she thought, " without waiting for other people. 
 The most beautiful part of the day belongs to them. 
 After a time, when everything is fixed and settled, 
 there is going to be a reform in regard to these beautiful 
 hours of the early morning ; at least in the lives of two 
 people whom I know." 
 
 This thought called up others about the lives of two 
 people, which were very charming thoughts to think as she 
 lay there, idly and happily breathing the morning air and 
 looking out on the beautiful morning sky. 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN 1 . 349 
 
 Suddenly she heard a shot, quickly followed by another. 
 At this sound her face flushed, and her brows slightly 
 knitted. 
 
 " It is a shame," she said to herself, " an outrageous 
 shame, for people to shoot the birds as they do. Of 
 course it is not necessary to shoot these little creatures, 
 and it is sheer wantonness and cruelty, especially at this 
 hour, which is the birds' own time of day." 
 
 And then she began to think what she would say to 
 some one on the subject of unnecessary shooting, although 
 she did not believe there would be the slightest need for 
 counsel of the sort in that quarter. An'd now she forgot 
 her momentary anger, and began to watch two white 
 clouds which were floating, one after the other, across the 
 sky; and in her playful fancy she called one of them 
 Roger and one herself. The following cloud appeared 
 to her to move faster than the other, and as they passed 
 out of the space of sky visible to her, Ardis sat up and 
 leaned forward so she could continue to watch her clouds ; 
 and when they disappeared they were very near each other. 
 
 " They are sure to touch," she said, as she lay back on 
 her pillow. " Now, I wonder whether that cloud that tried 
 so hard to overtake the other was Roger or I. As things 
 have gone recently, it might be supposed that I was that 
 cloud. Perhaps it was so, and if it was, it shall be charged 
 to the account of contrary breezes. All that we need 
 think of is that at last the winds of heaven blew those 
 clouds together, and that ought to be enough to make 
 anybody happy." And now she looked at her watch and 
 saw that it was seven o'clock. 
 
 Ardis was about half-dressed when there came a quick 
 treble-knock at her door, and in a moment Mrs. Chiver- 
 ley ran in. She was pale and excited, and there were 
 tears in her wide-open eyes. 
 
350 ARDIS CLA VERDEN. 
 
 "O Ardis, dear! 1 ' she exclaimed. "Don't be fright- 
 ened! It is all right now, and Mr. Dunworth is perfectly 
 safe!" 
 
 Ardis had sprung toward her. " What do you mean? " 
 she cried. 
 
 " Oh, there has been a duel," said Mrs. Chiverley, " early 
 this morning just a little while ago. But you need not 
 be in the least troubled, for Mr. Dunworth was not hit at 
 all and Mr. Surrey was only pinked. That is what Mr. 
 Prouter said, who told us about it, and Mr. Chiverley ex- 
 plained that that meant a very slight wound. So there is 
 nothing to grieve about, dear Ardis, and we ought to be 
 thankful that it turned out as it did." 
 
 Ardis stood like a statue; her eyes very bright, and 
 fixed upon her friend. Presently she said : " Do you 
 mean to tell me that Mr. Surrey and Mr. Dunworth have 
 fought a duel?" 
 
 "Oh, please don't look at me like that, Ardis! " cried 
 Mrs. Chiverly. " They did fight a duel, and nobody knew 
 anything about it except that young Englishman and some 
 one connected with the hotel. Mr. Prouter was a second, 
 and he has just told all to Dr. Lester and Mr. Chiverley 
 and me. Mr. Dunworth sent Mr. Surrey the challenge 
 last night, but they kept it perfectly secret." 
 
 " Mr. Dunworth sent Mr. Surrey a challenge ? " said 
 Ardis, speaking the words very slowly, and in a voice that 
 did not seem exactly her own. 
 
 " Yes," said Mrs. Chiverley, the tears now running down 
 upon her cheeks, " and we know everything about it. I 
 don't believe you understand, Ardis, that Roger Dunworth 
 is perfectly uninjured and Mr. Surrey is only slightly 
 touched. So why will you look like that? " 
 
 "Where is Mr. Dunworth?" said Ardis. 
 
 " I don't know," replied her friend. " I have not seen 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 351 
 
 him. But of course you want to see him, and when you 
 do you will find that what I have told you about his not 
 being hurt is perfectly true. Shall I send to him, and tell 
 him you would like to see him in the parlor? " 
 
 " Thank you," said Ardis, " I wish you would. I shall 
 be down very soon." 
 
 As Ardis turned to finish her dressing Mrs. Chiverley 
 gazed at her for a moment. It did not surprise her that 
 her friend should be deeply affected by the news she had 
 brought, for such news about a lover, no matter how the 
 affair had ended, was enough to give any woman a shock ; 
 but she could not understand why Ardis should look more 
 and more unlike herself even after she knew, or ought to 
 know, that nothing serious had occurred. But she said no 
 more, and hurried away to send the message to Dunworth. 
 
 When Ardis came down-stairs, about ten minutes after- 
 ward, she found Dr. Lester alone in the parlor. His face 
 had been troubled, but it became much more so when his 
 eyes fell upon Ardis. He came forward and took her by 
 the hand. 
 
 " My dear Miss Ardis," he said, " have you been made 
 to understand that Roger is wholly unhurt? " 
 
 " I know it," she said. And as she spoke the doctor 
 felt his heart grow numb within him. His nature was 
 very sensitive and there was something in the tone of her 
 voice which appalled him. 
 
 " Doctor," said she, " is there a room where I can talk 
 with him undisturbed?" 
 
 The doctor's eyes brightened as he heard these words. 
 " Certainly, 7 ' he said. " There is a little parlor opening 
 from this one. Will you step in there ? And shall I send 
 Roger to you? " 
 
 " If you please," said Ardis. 
 
 When Roger opened the door of the little parlor Ardis 
 
352 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 was standing in the middle of the room. Shutting the 
 door with a thrust he made a quick step toward her. But 
 she shook her head. 
 
 " I have something to say to you, Roger," she said, 
 " and you will please listen." 
 
 He, too, when he heard her voice, felt a numbness 
 creeping upon him. He stood still and gazed on her. 
 
 " Roger," said she, " you challenged Mr. Surrey to fight 
 a duel about me. I was not told so, but I know it was 
 about me. Unless I were concerned, you and Mr. Surrey 
 would have nothing to do with each other. Roger, you 
 have been very jealous of Mr. Surrey. You have shown 
 that in the strongest possible way. But I could easily 
 forgive it when you showed it by going away from me, 
 from your home, and everything, because then you did 
 not know that I loved you. Whether you had good rea- 
 son or not, you thought that I loved some one else, and 
 you had a right to be jealous and to be broken-hearted, 
 and to do what you pleased. But now, Roger Dunworth, 
 everything is different. I have told you that I love you. 
 I grieved that I let you go so long without knowing it; 
 and I travelled hundreds of miles, and endured hardships 
 and dangers to tell you. And after all I have done to 
 show you what I felt, and after all we have said to each 
 other you do not trust me, you do not believe in me." 
 
 "Ardis! " exclaimed Roger. " How can you " 
 
 " Let me speak," interrupted Ardis. " Stay where you 
 are. I say you do not trust me. You find me talking 
 with Mr. Surrey; you dash away; and that very night 
 you send him a challenge. Now, it does not matter 
 whether you were jealous or not, that showed a shameful 
 want of trust in me. If you are jealous at such a time 
 as this, that is enough to prove all I have said ; but even 
 if there were any other reason for you to risk the life 
 
ARDIS CLA rEKDEX. 
 
 353 
 
 which you had just given to me and risk it without one 
 word to me was the crudest want of faith in me. Do 
 you not suppose that I would have supported you in any- 
 thing that was brave and honorable? I have loved you 
 truly and loyally, and, what is more, I love you now. But 
 you have shown, as plainly as it could be shown, that you 
 do not trust me, that you do not believe in my love. And 
 I will not marry a man who does not trust me. Now you 
 can go your way and I will go mine." 
 
 As she spoke the last words she moved quickly toward 
 the door, but before she reached it Roger sprang toward 
 her arid clasped her in his arms. 
 
 "Ardis," he cried, "take back those words! Ardis! 
 My Ardis!" 
 
 As he spoke he strained her to his heart, but with a 
 strength which surprised him, she unclasped his arms from 
 around her, and darted out of the room. 
 
 At the end of the large parlor she found Dr. Lester 
 waiting, anxious and apprehensive. " Doctor," she said, 
 and as she spoke her voice was nearly choked with tears, 
 " there is nothing more between Roger and me. He does 
 not trust me, and I will not marry a man who does not 
 trust me. Now I want to go to Bald Hill just as 
 quickly as I can. Will you attend to our getting off ? " 
 And she went to her room. 
 
 In little more than an hour after that, Ardis and Dr. 
 Lester, with the Chiverleys, were on a northern-bound 
 train. The latter two had not intended returning with 
 the party, having proposed a short sketching tour in the 
 South ; but when they heard what had happened there was 
 no further thought of sketching. Mrs. Chiverley's tender 
 heart would have ceased to beat before it would have al- 
 lowed her to leave Ardis until she had seen her safe at 
 home and in her father's arms. 
 23 
 
354 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 Roger remained standing where Ardis had left him, 
 staring straight at the wall in front of him, seeing nothing 
 and hearing nothing but the soul-deadening words she had 
 said to him. Every syllable sounded in his ears as if it 
 had been just spoken. He stood thus until a servant 
 came and touched him on the arm, having previously 
 tried in various ways to attract his attention, and told him 
 that she wished to sweep the room. 
 
 As Roger could not have known Ardis so long without 
 loving her, it was also impossible that he should love her 
 so long without knowing her well. And he knew that the 
 one thing that would make her cast off a dog, a friend, or 
 a lover was the belief that that dog, friend, or lover did 
 not trust her. And this, with reason, she now believed 
 of him. 
 
 If it had been the other way, if she had had cause to 
 distrust him, he believed that in time she would have 
 forgiven him. But now he could not believe that she 
 would forgive him. To do what he had done at the time 
 at which he had done it, aad without her knowledge, could 
 not fail to be in her eyes an insult as well as a crime. 
 
 But Roger did not despair. He must see Dr. Lester. 
 Instinctively he turned to this old friend. He knew that 
 Ardis would not see him at present, but the doctor could 
 see her. He would pour out his heart to the doctor and 
 trust in his friendship. 
 
 But Dr. Lester was not in the house, and after making 
 himself certain of this fact, Roger went up to his room. 
 When he came down again he was surprised to hear that 
 the Chiverleys, Miss Claverden, and Dr. Lester had gone 
 to the station to take a through train to the North. This 
 news astounded him. It had been planned that the party 
 should leave Atlanta about noon, and return to Virginia 
 by the way of Savannah and Charleston ; probably leaving 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 355 
 
 the Chiverleys at the latter place. But now they had gone 
 directly home ! 
 
 Dunworth rushed put of the hotel, jumped into a cab, 
 and drove rapidly to the station, but he was too late ; the 
 through train had gone. When he returned to the hotel 
 he made no inquiries about Prouter or Surrey. He did 
 not know the latter was wounded and no thought of either 
 of them entered his mind. At the suggestion of the clerk 
 he had some breakfast; and then, in a state of nervous 
 irresolution, he considered the situation. What he wanted 
 to do was to go by the next train to Bolton to Ardis. 
 But what would be the good of that? His reason, even 
 his heart, told him it would be of no good at all. He did 
 not despair, but he knew it would be folly to try to see 
 her now. 
 
 As it would be well for him not to follow Ardis too 
 closely, Roger determined, on his own part, to carry out 
 the original plan of the party, and to go home by the 
 way of Savannah and Charleston. In Atlanta he could 
 not stay a moment longer than was absolutely necessary. 
 
 The express train by which they had expected to leave 
 did not start until noon, but Roger felt he could not wait 
 for that. He must leave this hated city at the earliest 
 possible moment, and therefore had himself and his 
 valise taken to the station in time to catch the morning 
 accommodation train for Savannah. This travelled slowly, 
 but it left soon. 
 
 In Savannah he wrote a letter to Ardis. Hours of 
 continuous thinking had led him to believe that this would 
 be the best thing for him to do. He could state his posi- 
 tion clearly and without interruption; and if, in conse- 
 quence, the slightest chance should be given him, he felt 
 himself able to plead his cause in person in such a way 
 that Ardis who loved him, for she had told him so 
 
356 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 would take back the words she had spoken. The hope 
 grew within him that she would give him that chance. 
 She must have been very angry when she spoke to him 
 on the morning of the duel; and he did not blame her for 
 it. But such anger could not last forever. The home 
 influence must count for something. Could she be, at 
 Bald Hill, among the scenes of their youth, as unrelenting 
 as in a strange city? Her father, he believed, would prove 
 his friend in this matter. It was not likely that he would 
 be so severe a judge as his daughter. The frank-hearted 
 major had long since let him know that if he could choose 
 a son-in-law he would choose him. And on this knowl- 
 edge Roger counted much. 
 
 Roger asked that the answer to his letter should be 
 sent to Charleston; and he waited in that city until it 
 came. Ardis' reply was brief. It ran thus: 
 
 " I was angry when I spoke to you; but that makes no 
 difference. What I said then is my firm conviction now. 
 The man who does not trust in me, or who omits all con- 
 sideration of me when he deliberately risks his life, cannot 
 be my husband. No matter whether he has done right 
 or wrong, he cannot be my husband. There could not be 
 mutual belief between us, and therefore there could not 
 be happiness. My decision is carefully considered and 
 final." 
 
 When Roger read this letter he did not feel that he 
 knew Ardis any better than he had known her before. 
 He was merely reminded that in writing to her he had 
 allowed himself to forget what manner of woman she was. 
 
ARDIS CLA I'ERDEX. 357 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 r POM PROUTER had been up the greater part of the 
 I night cleaning and polishing pistols and discussing 
 the code of honor with the night clerk. He had risen 
 very early in the morning ; and when his services upon 
 the duelling-ground had been concluded, and he had told 
 the story of the affair to the Chiverleys and Dr. Lester, 
 he considered that he was entitled to a short nap. He 
 slept so soundly, however, that probably he would not 
 have wakened until afternoon had not his friend, the night 
 clerk, come up to his room a little after ten o'clock. 
 
 " I have come to consult with you," the clerk said, 
 " about what is to be done with Mr. Surrey. I have sent 
 for a doctor, but he has not come yet, and I don't know 
 any other physician that I would care to call upon, for 
 in cases like this we have to be very careful. And when 
 the doctor comes somebody ought to be on hand to talk 
 to him and explain matters. Billings was very willing 
 to act as a second, and I was glad to be of what service 
 I could ; but it won't do for either of us to be mixed up 
 in the matter. The gentleman may not be much hurt, 
 but then again he may be mortally wounded. I can't 
 make out how he was hit. It seems to me a queer kind 
 of wound, and I don't understand it." 
 
 "All right! AH right!" cried Prouter, springing from 
 the bed and pulling out his watch. "I didn't know it 
 was so late! I'll look into that Surrey business," he con- 
 tinued, as he hurriedly put on his coat, " but first I must 
 see Mr. Dunworth and make arrangements for going 
 North with him." 
 
358 ARDIS CLAVERDEX. 
 
 " Mr. Dunworth! " said the clerk. " He left for Savan- 
 nah half an hour ago! The rest of his party had already 
 gone North on the Washington express." 
 
 "The rest of his party! " shouted Prouter. " Who arc 
 they?" 
 
 The clerk looked surprised. " I supposed," he said, 
 "that knowing Mr. Dunworth you knew them all. There 
 was Mr. and Mrs. Henry Chiverley, Miss Ardis Claverden, 
 and Dr. R. C. Lester." 
 
 Prouter stood petrified. He had made for himself a 
 very definite plan of action. He had determined to wipe 
 from his soul every taint of milk. He would go back to 
 Virginia with Dunworth and immediately settle the trans- 
 fer of the milk route and its appurtenances. No question 
 of price, or anything else, should be allowed to stand in 
 the way. Then, as soon as the money for which he had 
 already written to his mother should arrive from England, 
 he would add to it whatever he should be able to save 
 from the wreck of his latest enterprise, and go into some 
 business suitable for a gentleman. It appeared to be 
 necessary for a young man to have some business if he 
 wished to stand well in the opinion of people in this part 
 of the world ; and to stand well in the opinion of some of 
 these people was, at present, Mr. Prouter's hot desire. 
 But this sudden departure of Dunworth in the wrong di- 
 rection was ruin to his plans. That dreadful weight of 
 cows, wagons, and milk pans still hung around his neck. 
 
 He gave vent to a sounding objurgation. "Confound 
 Dunworth!" he ejaculated. "Why did he bolt off to 
 Charleston without letting me know? I had business of 
 far more importance than anything that could have taken 
 him there! I was going back to Bolton with him this 
 morning! " 
 
 The clerk could give him no information, and Prouter 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 359 
 
 continued: "There's another thing! I never saw such 
 tiresome luck as mine ! I didn't see Miss Claverden at 
 all and I'd have given a horse to see her! I hadn't a 
 notion she was here. Confound it! I'd go North this 
 minute for I don't suppose it's any use to try to follow 
 up Dunworth ; he may be going to the West Indies for 
 all I know but I can't do either thing. I'm tied up here 
 in the beastliest way." 
 
 " How is that? " asked the clerk. 
 
 "It's that vile, beggarly, shabby, contemptible, good- 
 for-nothing hound of a Surrey! You tell me he has gone 
 and got himself wounded, and as he doesn't know a soul 
 here to put him into proper hands now, or to ship his 
 carcass to his friends in case he pegs out, I suppose, as I 
 took part in the affair, I have got to stay here." 
 
 The clerk replied that it would be very well indeed if 
 some one who knew the wounded man should stay here ; 
 at least until it should be decided whether or not his con- 
 dition was dangerous. 
 
 "It is the vilest shame," said Prouter. "And all for 
 such a worthless dog, who jams himself into everybody's 
 business and spoils everything." 
 
 Growling that he had lost the chance of even a few 
 minutes' conversation with the most charming woman he 
 had ever known, and grumbling because nobody had told 
 him that she was there, Prouter went up to Mr. Surrey's 
 room to ascertain the condition into which that most 
 inconvenient person had got himself. 
 
 " Here's a pretty kettle of fish," said he, as he opened 
 the room door. 
 
 Surrey was lying on a lounge, partly dressed, and with 
 his left shoulder and arm enveloped in a complicated 
 bandage. 
 
 " I should say so," said he, turning toward the incomer. 
 
360 ARDJS CLAl'ERDEX. 
 
 "If you intended to come up here at all, why didn't you 
 come before, while the doctor was here, and back me up 
 in the story I had to tell him?" 
 
 "You needn't suppose I'll back up your stories," 
 snapped Prouter. 
 
 "I told him the exact facts," said the other, "but I 
 must admit they sounded absurd. His belief was that I 
 had been fired at from an upper window or from a tree- 
 top, and as I had nobody to support me in my statements, 
 I suppose he will continue in that opinion." 
 
 " He must be an everlasting ass," said Prouter. " Does 
 he suppose anybody would fight a duel with one of the 
 principals in the top of a tree? " 
 
 Surrey laughed. " He does not believe it was a duel 
 at all," said he. 
 
 " Let him think what he pleases," said Prouter. " If he 
 hadn't come while I was in my room talking to the clerk 
 I might have set him straight. How were you hit, any- 
 way?" 
 
 "Just on the top of the left shoulder," said Surrey, 
 "and the ball went down in an oblique direction and 
 came out about two inches below. I don't suppose it is 
 a bad wound, but I shall have to keep quiet for a while." 
 
 "By George!" exclaimed Prouter. " Somebody must 
 have fired at you from a tree! It couldn't have been any 
 of Dunworth's friends, now could it? " 
 
 " Nonsense ! " said Surrey. " The thing is easily enough 
 explained. Dunworth and I both fired in the air, but his 
 aim was too near the perpendicular, and the ball in falling 
 struck me on the shoulder. Everybody knows that a ball 
 falling from a considerable height will come down with 
 almost as much force as that with which it went up. It 
 was a good line shot that he made." 
 
 "Well, I'll be hanged," said Prouter, "if that isn't just 
 
ARDIS CLA VERDE X. 361 
 
 like you! I'll bet six guineas to sixpence that you either 
 made one step backward or a step forward, and so got 
 under the ball. And more than that, I never did hear of 
 such a stupid, muddy-headed piece of folly as for two men 
 to go out to fight a duel, and then both of them to fire in 
 the air ! You might as well have each staid in your own 
 bedrooms and fired your blasted pistols into your wash- 
 hand basins." 
 
 " Better, as far as I am concerned," said Surrey, " for 
 then I should not have been hit." 
 
 "And a great deal better, as far as I am concerned," 
 said Prouter, " for then I shouldn't have been tied up by 
 the leg to this beastly business, and cut out of a chance 
 even to speak to Miss Claverden; and she in this very 
 hotel up to half an hour ago! " 
 
 " Miss Claverden ! " said Surrey. " Was that poor lady 
 cut off from a chance of speaking to you? Indeed, I pity 
 her! And so she has gone? " 
 
 " Yes, and that's a nice kettle of fish, too," said Prouter, 
 "now that I have thought it over! Here is Miss Claver- 
 den gone off to Bald Hill with the doctor and those other 
 people ; and here is Dunworth pitching off to Savannah 
 and nobody knows where else besides. There has been 
 a row. That is plain enough. By George! I believe 
 you are a double-barrelled nuisance! On the one hand 
 you come down here and set people by the ears with your 
 stupid duels ; and at the same time you interfere in my 
 business by driving Dunworth away just as he was about 
 to buy my milk route. The thing was as good as settled 
 until this row came on. By George! I wish you had 
 fought a duel with some other ass on your way down here, 
 and that he had shot you! " 
 
 "The other ass didn't challenge me," said Surrey, "al- 
 though I noticed that he seemed in a suitable -humor for 
 
362 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 such business. But do you mean that there has been a 
 mis-understanding between Dunworth and Miss Claverden, 
 and that they have gone away in opposite directions? " 
 
 " I said," replied Prouter, " that they went off at differ- 
 ent times and in different ways. If that ball had gone 
 into your skull instead of your shoulder, it would have let 
 in enough light on your brain for you to see for yourself 
 that there must have been a row. 7 ' 
 
 " I am sorry to hear that," said Surrey, and for a 
 time he was silent. 
 
 " If I had been in Dunworth's place," said Prouter, 
 "and you had come down here after Miss Claverden 
 and I dare say that is what you did come for I would 
 have shot you like a dog." 
 
 " I have no doubt," said Surrey, " that if you had done 
 it at all you would have done it like a dog." 
 
 "And why, in the name of all that is stupid," said 
 Prouter, " did you fire into the air? " 
 
 " I didn't want to hurt him," said Surrey. " I knew 
 that he was engaged to Miss Claverden, and I fired into 
 the air out of regard for her." 
 
 "And, like as not," said Prouter, " you hit some pious 
 old widow picking up sticks. It would serve you right if 
 her body was to be fetched in now." 
 
 "Not in here, I hope," said Surrey. "And do you 
 know I haven't had any breakfast yet? Will you ring 
 that bell? And when the man comes I will tell him what 
 I want." 
 
 Prouter rang the bell, and then he turned and again 
 addressed Surrey. " By George !" he said. "You have 
 the most beastly, monotonous way of making trouble! 
 First you had that rumpus with that wild man of the 
 woods in those underground holes at Ridgeby which 
 half the people believed was a put-up job^-and so got 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 363 
 
 yourself laid up at Bald Hill, where you weren't wanted. 
 And now you've gone and acted in the same tiresome 
 way, and got yourself hurt again and laid up. And this 
 time it is my business that is knocked into a cocked hat! " 
 
 " Look here," said Surrey, "what will you take for your 
 milk concern? " 
 
 "Take!" cried Prouter. "You needn't suppose I'd 
 sell it to you! By George! if you were to go about 
 serving milk in Bolton, you'd make a row in every family 
 in the place." 
 
 Here the conversation was interrupted by the entrance 
 of a waiter. When Surrey had ordered a slight repast 
 Prouter remarked: 
 
 "I haven't had any breakfast, either. I've a mind to 
 order some brought up at the same time, if it wouldn't 
 make your temper any worse to see a man eat a Christian 
 meal." 
 
 " My temper can stand it," said Surrey. And Prouter 
 ordered a bountiful breakfast, with beer. 
 
 When the meal had been finished and the things taken 
 away Surrey remarked: " I don't suppose it will injure my 
 shoulder for me to have a smoke. Will you be good 
 enough to hand me that paper of cigarettes from the 
 mantel-piece? And the match-box, please?" 
 
 Prouter did as he was asked, and Surrey suggested that 
 he should help himself to a cigarette. 
 
 " Never smoke 'em," said Prouter. " I dare say, now, 
 the smell of a decent pipe would swell up that shoulder 
 of yours." 
 
 " Not a bit of it," said Surrey. " Smoke away, if you 
 want to." 
 
 Prouter pulled from his pocket a little brown pipe and 
 a bag of tobacco, and sat down by the open window, 
 where, for some time, he puffed in silence. " By George ! " 
 
364 ARDIS CLA VERDEN. 
 
 he suddenly cried, springing to his feet. " What a jolly 
 notion that up-shot shooting would be for a fellow who 
 wanted to commit suicide, especially if he had a fancy for 
 a rifle, as many fellows have. He could just hold his gun 
 straight up, perpendicular, present arms; then pull the 
 trigger and step forward twelve inches, and the ball drops 
 on his head, and, most likely, goes through to his boots. 
 That is a deucedly good idea. You might put a round 
 bit of white paper on top of your head and see if you could 
 hit it. It would make the thing interesting." 
 
 Surrey laughed. "And if you happened to be an Eng- 
 lishman,'' he said, "you'd make a bet with yourself that 
 you couldn't hit the paper once out of three shots." 
 
 Prouter gave a grunt. " It's not a bad notion," he 
 said, "but I dare say you couldn't be persuaded to try it." 
 
 "Not at present," replied Surrey. "You see, my left 
 shoulder will be stiff for a while, and I couldn't present 
 arms. By the way, I suppose you will be going out for a 
 walk presently? " 
 
 " Of course I shall," said Prouter. " I can't stay long 
 in this cooped-up hole." 
 
 " Then I shall be obliged to you," said Surrey, " if you 
 will get this prescription made up for me. It is some sort 
 of a smear, and does not have to be used until afternoon, 
 but I might as well have it on hand." 
 
 Prouter took the paper, put it in his waistcoat pocket, 
 stuffed his two hands in the pockets of his travelling-jacket, 
 and marched out of the room. He strode along the 
 streets until he came to an apothecary shop, and enter- 
 ing, he presented the prescription to a clerk. 
 
 "What's that for? " he said. 
 
 The man looked at it. " It is an ointment," he replied, 
 "but, of course, I don't know what it's for." 
 
 " Give it back," said Prouter. "A man who doesn't know 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 365 
 
 what stuff is intended for doesn't know enough to make 
 up stuff for me/' 
 
 In the next shop he entered, the attendant in charge 
 expressed it as his opinion that the ointment was intended 
 for a cut or a wound of some sort. 
 
 "Good!" said Prouter. "You know your business. 
 Go on and make it up. I'll take a spin along the street 
 and come back and get it." 
 
 Surrey's wound was not a severe one and healed rapidly, 
 but it was four days before his physician told him that he 
 was fit to travel. During this time Prouter remained at 
 the hotel, giving Surrey a good deal of gruff and vitupera- 
 tive social intercourse, and attending to his various needs 
 and wants with every indication of hearty disapproval. 
 
 Surrey never asked him how lonr he was going to stay 
 in Atlanta, nor why he staid at all. He knew his man 
 too well and found him too useful to enter into the dis- 
 cussion of that subject. He bore with unruffled good- 
 humor the most blood-thirsty hopes for his speedy extinc- 
 tion, and the reiterated expressions of undying hatred of 
 his purposes, his principles, and his practices; and when 
 he wanted anything done he asked Prouter to do it, and 
 in every instance it was done. Thus it happened that 
 these two left Atlanta together and journeyed to Bolton ; 
 Prouter much angered by the notion which had suddenly 
 come to him that by this time Dunworth might have met 
 with some one else who had a milk route to sell and had 
 bought it. 
 
 A short time before their train reached Bolton, Prouter 
 came to Surrey they occupied seats at some distance from 
 each other and said: " What are you going to do? Shall 
 you travel on to your home if you have any or do you 
 intend to stop at Bolton and make more trouble?" 
 
 " I shall go straight en to New York," said Surrey. 
 
366 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 " Didn't you know that I bought a through ticket at At- 
 lanta?" 
 
 "How should I know?' 1 said Prouter. " I wasn't listen- 
 ing to you when you booked. And, besides, people may 
 stop over on through tickets." 
 
 " But I shall not," said Surrey. 
 
 Prouter stood for some moments, bracing himself, on 
 account of the motion of the car, against the side of Sur- 
 rey's seat. " That will be the best thing you can do," he 
 said. " I don't suppose there is a person in these parts 
 who doesn't hate you as he hates the devil." 
 
 At this remark a young woman in the seat in front of 
 Surrey turned half-round and looked at the two men, after 
 which she resumed her former position, but listened at- 
 tentively to the rest of the conversation ; while a man be- 
 hind them fixed his eyes upon Prouter with an interested 
 grin. 
 
 " Do you intend to stay on here," asked Surrey, " after 
 you have got rid of your lean Idne? " 
 
 "Yes, I do," said Prouter. "I am going into another 
 business." 
 
 "Matrimony, perhaps?" asked Surrey. 
 
 " It will be that if I choose it," retorted the other. 
 
 "Any particular person?" asked Surrey. 
 
 Prouter did not immediately answer. He seemed to 
 be considering the subject. " It may be a very particular 
 person," he said presently, "and Bald Hill is her home. 
 And I want to say to you, fair and square, that if I go in 
 for that sort of thing you'd better not get in my way! 
 There is nothing I'd pitch into quicker than a dog in a 
 manger! " 
 
 " For your own good and the comfort of the lady," 
 said Surrey, " I would advise you to drop that notion. Her 
 affairs are settled. She is engaged to be married." 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 367 
 
 " She was, you mean," said Prouter, quickly, " but that 
 is broken off. If the whole thing hadn't been knocked 
 higher than a kite, as you Americans say, the man wouldn't 
 have gone off in one direction and the lady in another. 
 I shall pitch in on my own account! " 
 
 Surrey smiled. " I think you were going to mention 
 some other business; something, perhaps, that you can 
 do better." 
 
 " Of course I meant another business," replied Prouter. 
 " I am going into vine-growing. I decided to do that yes- 
 terday morning. I shall set out a big vineyard. It will 
 be a jolly sort of life. I'll build a little house right in the 
 middle of it, with windows all around so that I can shoot 
 the thieves who come after my grapes. Two rooms down 
 stairs and two up. Have a woman to come in and cook. 
 Jolly independent, all that! I'll sleep in one of the bed- 
 rooms myself. I dare say you'll never have the cheek to 
 show yourself in this part of the country again ; but if you 
 should ever happen to come down here on any decent 
 business, and if no gentleman should want you in his 
 house, you might stop with me." 
 
 " Thanks for making yourself such a striking excep- 
 tion," said Surrey. " If I come down here, and you have 
 your little house, I'll stop with you. But your plan for a 
 snug bachelor's establishment doesn't agree with your 
 matrimonial intentions." 
 
 " Confound it ! " exclaimed Prouter. " That slipped my 
 mind ! I'll be hanged if you don't always make trouble ! 
 Now you have knocked that thing into a cocked hat! Of 
 course she wouldn't come to a shanty in a vineyard! 
 Every time you open your mouth or lift a finger you make 
 trouble." 
 
 At this outburst Surrey was much amused, and so was 
 the young woman in front and the man behind them. 
 
3 68 ARDIS CLAVERDEX. 
 
 " Don't be angry," said Surrey. " Perhaps I may meet 
 somebody who wants to go into milk; and if I do, I'll 
 send him straight down to you." 
 
 "Milk!" said Prouter scornfully; and he strode back 
 to his seat. 
 
AXDIS CLAVERDEN. 369 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 TT THEN Ardis with her friends reached Bolton she was 
 VV met by a delighted but astonished father. He had 
 been informed by telegraph that they would arrive, but 
 he could not imagine why she and the Chiverleys should 
 wish to be in Virginia at this season. To come from the 
 South to this raw, chilly air, to the dreary roads rendered 
 almost impassable by the thawing of the red clay, and to 
 the general unpleasantness of a country landscape just 
 emerging from winter into a very uncertain and sloppy 
 spring was not what he would have expected of them. 
 
 But that Ardis wanted to come to her home and to 
 him, no matter at what season, was a joy to his heart until 
 the two had sat together by the library fire and she had 
 told him her story. 
 
 She began at the beginning and told him everything; 
 and as he listened sometimes his eyes filled with tears of 
 fatherly affection, and sometimes they sparkled with 
 fatherly pride. Did ever man have such a daughter? 
 But when, at last, she told him how it had all ended, his 
 heart sank and he bowed his head. He was greatly 
 grieved and disappointed. But when Ardis had finished 
 and looked up into his face, waiting for him to speak, he 
 took her into his arms and pressed her brave heart against 
 one every whit as brave. 
 
 '* My dear child," he said, " I sorrow much that the end 
 
 of it all should be what it is ; but had I been in your 
 
 place, I would have done what you did ; provided, indeed, I 
 
 had had the courage to carry out my principles. And for 
 
 24 
 
370 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 all that you have dared, and for all that you have done, 
 and for all that you have lost, I love you better than I 
 ever did before/' 
 
 After this the' father and daughter talked no more upon 
 the subject. Ardis endeavored, in a measure, to resume 
 her ordinary Bald Hill life, but she did not make a success 
 of it. Planks had to be laid, on which she could walk to 
 her studio; and when she got there she found the great 
 room very cold and disagreeable, the largest of wood fires 
 failing to make much impression upon its stored-up chilli- 
 ness. 
 
 Norma Cranton tried to get over to see Ardis, but the 
 road between Heatherley and Bald Hill was very bad, and 
 when she had gone about half-way her carriage stuck fast, 
 and she had to be taken back home in an ox-cart. 
 
 Besides Dr. Lester, who would have walked on a fence- 
 top to get to Bald Hill, Ardis had but one visitor, -Mr. 
 Egbert Dalrymple. He had been enjoying a social season 
 in Washington, and had thrown up all the delights of the 
 capital upon hearing that Miss Claverden had returned to 
 her home. 
 
 And on the day after his arrival at his father's house, 
 he presented himself at Bald Hill in a new suit of the 
 shade of a pussy-willow, and a blossom of premature spring 
 in his buttonhole, while his legs, and even the skirts of his 
 coat, were bountifully bedecked by the red and very sea- 
 sonable splashes of color bestowed upon them by the road. 
 Several times his horse had been almost mired, but Mr. 
 Dalrymple was bound to reach Bald Hill ; and by dint of 
 making several cross-country cuts he succeeded. 
 
 This young gentleman did not in the least endeavor to 
 disguise the object of his visit. He came to woo Miss 
 Claverden; and the plainer this purpose should be to all 
 parties who had a right to be concerned, the better he 
 
ARDIS CLAVEKDEN. 371 
 
 would be satisfied. He did not know, nor did he care to 
 know, whether or not she was engaged to any one else. 
 He intended to woo and to win her, and to the considera- 
 tion of obstacles he gave no thought whatever. 
 
 As opportunities for private converse with Ardis were 
 extremely uncertain, Mr. Dalrymple had determined to 
 declare his passion during this morning visit, and he cer- 
 tainly would have done so if Mrs. Chiverley had given him 
 a chance. The soul of that lady was filled with thoughts 
 of Ardis, and she watched her with that tender solicitude 
 which a woman has who grieves for another. With that 
 clear vision which enabled her to see what people ought 
 to paint as well as what they had painted, she saw the 
 purpose which this young man had painted on his coun- 
 tenance, and she resolved that she would give him no op- 
 portunity to worry Ardis. 
 
 She succeeded perfectly in warding off Mr. Dalrymple's 
 intended action; and at last that young man suddenly 
 arose, took abrupt leave of Ardis, not noticing the other 
 lady, and went out. He stopped for a moment on the 
 porch. Folding his arms he looked about him; at the 
 milk-and-water colored sky, the oozy lawn, and upon the 
 bare-twigged trees, vainly holding up their rounded but 
 still tightly imprisoned buds to the impotent and sickly 
 rays of an intermittent sun. He frowned and nodded his 
 head; then ejaculating "So!" he went down and 
 mounted his muddy horse. 
 
 As he slowly waded and splashed home the soul of 
 Egbert Dalrymple was filled with loathing of that woman, 
 Mrs. Chiverley. He had never met any one who acted 
 so disastrously upon the harmonies of his nature. She 
 unattuned him. She jangled the chords of his every sym- 
 pathy. He had never seen any one who had so slight an 
 appreciation of the fit. If she had remained quietly seated 
 
372 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 in the room wherein he had stood gazing down upon Ardis 
 it would have been better, for then he would have invited 
 the impulse of his dreams to stroll with him in the open, 
 but just as he thought to speak of this, this woman would 
 go out, and then, before, he could subdue the discord in 
 his soul, back she would come ; bringing in one instance 
 her utterly extraneous husband, with whom she said she 
 was sure he, Egbert Dalrymple, would be glad to be ac- 
 quainted. Bah! what a world! It would be simply im- 
 possible for him to touch the strings of his passion's lute 
 if he did but know that such a woman was in the house ! 
 Happily, he ha-d heard her say that her stay at Bald Hill 
 would not be long. He would give her time to depart, 
 and then he would return, and again standing before Ardis, 
 would touch that note which must raise in her fair soul a 
 vibrant swell. 
 
 In four days he came again, and found that Mr. and 
 Mrs. Chiverley had gone to New York and had taken 
 Ardis with them. When this news was delivered to him 
 by a servant at the door, he turned without a word and 
 went away. Not even his favorite monosyllable was tossed 
 out upon the moisty air. When he reached his home he 
 muttered to his family a few words indicating his intention 
 to depart, tossed carelessly some articles of clothing into 
 a valise, and gave orders for something to take him to the 
 station. When his sister asked him to leave his address, 
 he gazed for a few moments over her head and then said: 
 
 " Write to me at the outer courts of Pa-radise." 
 
 "Does that mean, 'Care Mr. John S. Buckley, 386 
 Lafayette Place, New York' ?" 
 
 " As you will," he said, and went his way. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Chiverley had talked a good deal upon 
 the subject on which Major Claverden and his daughter 
 spoke not at all, and they had not found it difficult to 
 
ARDIS CLA VKKDEN. 373 
 
 convince each other that Ardis ought not to stay at Bald 
 Hill, but should go with them to New York and finish the 
 visit that had been so suddenly broken off. In New York 
 they could give her a great many other things to think 
 about. They did not expect to drive from her mind the 
 recollection that she had been forced to discard the man 
 she truly loved, but they hoped to cramp and crowd those 
 recollections. 
 
 These ideas of the Chiverleys were strongly indorsed by 
 the major. The great desire of his life was to see his 
 daughter happy. He even preferred to have her happy 
 than to have her with him. He believed she was much 
 more likely to be happy in New York than at Bald Hill, 
 and he urged her to go with her friends. He had other 
 reasons for Ardis' continuance of her visit to the Chiv- 
 erleys than those he gave her. He mourned deeply this 
 breaking off of the match which he had had in his heart, and 
 he could mourn better if she were away. Now, although 
 she could not be said to be cheerful, she neither spoke of 
 the storm through which she had passed, nor did she allow 
 its effects to appear upon her, and so long as she pre- 
 served this demeanor he could do no less than to observe 
 one equally as unperturbed; and this did not suit the 
 major. When anything was the matter with him he liked 
 to show it. An honest exhibition of his grief did him 
 good. 
 
 It was not difficult to persuade Ardis at this time that the 
 metropolis was a better place for her than herVirginia home. 
 She was too young, she said to herself, to allow this great 
 unhappiness to overshadow all that part of her life which 
 was to come. And if it were right to do a thing, it must 
 also be right to endeavor to cease to regret the doing of it. 
 She would go away for a time, and then she would come 
 back to her father the same cheerful, earnest daughter, 
 
374 ARDIS CLA VERDEN. 
 
 the same enthusiastic worker at her art, and the same 
 cheerful manager of her household that she had been the 
 spring before. She might fin-d that she had been too 
 much hurt to do all this, but she resolved to try, and she 
 had great faith in herself. 
 
 Thus it was that Ardis and the Chiverleys started for 
 New York on the- day before the two travelling compan- 
 ions, Messrs. Surrey and Prouter, reached Bolton. The 
 first of these continued on his northern journey; while 
 Prouter repaired to his home at the Quantrills' enlivened 
 by a new idea. He would talk over his affairs with Miss 
 Airpenny. Perhaps that very sensible and practical old 
 frump might like to undertake the management of a milk 
 route. He considered it a great piece of stupidity in 
 himself that he had not sooner thought of this. 
 
 As soon as Major Claverden had been left to himself, 
 General Tredner having gone away some time before, he 
 sent for Dr. Lester to come and make him a protracted 
 visit. And now, day after day, these two sat over their 
 books, their newspapers, and their backgammon; and 
 night after night they smoked their pipes before the wood 
 fire in the great library fire-Dlace; and the major talked 
 and the doctor listened. 
 
 " A better man than Roger Dunworth," the major said, 
 not once but often, " could not have been found for Ardis. 
 I think you will admit that, sir. Everybody will admit 
 that." 
 
 Here the doctor would remove his pipe from his lips 
 and bow his head affirmatively. 
 
 "He is a Virginian; he is a neighbor; his father was 
 my friend, and his grandfather was a friend of my father. 
 I have looked upon him, sir, as one \vho was born to be 
 the husband of my daughter. As a man, what more could 
 be desired? Noble to look upon, with the soul of his 
 
ARD1S CLAVP:RDEiV. 375 
 
 fathers in a strong and handsome body ; and, in character, 
 just the man I should have chosen; brave, trust worthy, 
 honorable, and far beyond the young men of this day and 
 region in these qualities which bring success and prosperity. 
 I tell you, sir, it is too bad! It is too bad! And what 
 makes it worse, sir, what makes it crushing to me, is that 
 there is not another man whom I have ever known, or 
 whom I have ever seen, who is suitable or worthy to be 
 the husband of my daughter. In other parts of the 
 country there may be such men, but they are not Vir- 
 ginians, they are not my neighbors, and I do not wish to 
 consider them. Can you tell me, doctor, of a man in this 
 part of the country, in all the circle of our acquaintance, 
 in whose hands you would advise me to lay the hand of 
 my daughter, and say to him : ' Take her ' ? " 
 
 At such words as these the doctor would look into the 
 fire and harden his face, but he could not harden it so 
 hard that the major would not lean over, and putting his 
 hand on his shoulder, say: 
 
 " I see that you sympathize with me, good old friend. 
 I can see that plainly enough." 
 
 " ' Good old friend ' ! " the doctor would sometimes re- 
 peat to himself. And at this period he was a younger 
 man than the major had been when he married his wife. 
 
 In abouf ten days from the time he left Atlanta, Roger 
 Dunworth returned to his home, much to the relief of 
 Messrs. Parch ester, Skitt, and Cruppledean, who were be- 
 ginning to be a good deal discouraged by the apparently 
 indefinite absence of their chief. Roger came home be- 
 cause that was the right thing for him to do, and because 
 there was no longer any reason why he should stay away. 
 He had left his home before because it was absolutely 
 impossible for him to remain in a place where he could 
 see the woman, his love for whom had grown into an all- 
 
376 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 absorbing and overpowering passion, actually loving an- 
 other man, and that man Surrey. 
 
 But now he knew that there was nothing of the kind 
 between Surrey and Ardis. There was nothing between 
 Ardis and himself. His place in life was now upon his 
 farm with his crops, his cattle, and his horses ; his Par- 
 chesters, his Skitts, and his Cruppledeans. And to these 
 he went. 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 377 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 ONE morning, after a cold night in which the roadway 
 had been frozen into ridges and lumps, Dr. Lester 
 walked over from Bald Hill to his house to get a book 
 which he wanted, and to see if anything had happened to 
 his belongings. Instead of finding the place quiet and 
 deserted, as he expected, he was surprised to see smoke 
 curling from the chimney, and as he approached nearer to 
 hear some one moving within. 
 
 He hastened to the door, which he found locked as he 
 had left it, and when he had somewhat nervously thrust in 
 his key and opened it, he beheld within his friend Bonetti 
 comfortably seated in an arm-chair before a fire with an- 
 other chair by his side. 
 
 The philosophizer arose and extended his hand. " How 
 d'ye do, doctor ? " he said. " I'm right glad to see you 
 back again. I heard you'd got home, but I couldn't get 
 up here to see you ; the walkin' was too powerful sticky." 
 
 " How did you get in? " asked the doctor. 
 
 " Easy enough," said Bonetti. " I knew that back win- 
 dow wasn't fastened, for it never is ; at least the fastenings 
 don't amount to anything. Then, as I reckoned you'd be 
 back before long, I just made up a fire and waited. I saw 
 you comin' and I put this chair here for you. Sit down 
 and warm yourself." 
 
 The doctor did not look very well satisfied at having 
 his home invaded in this way. " You might have waited 
 a long time, Bonnet," he said. " I am now staying at 
 Bald Hill, and merely happened to come here this morn- 
 
378 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 ing. I am going back presently, before the road begins 
 to thaw." 
 
 " But sit down first," said Bonetti, " and tell me what 
 has happened. I'm just ranklin' to know how things 
 have turned out. What I've heard I don't understand. 
 Miss Ardis has come home and gone away again, and 
 Roger Dunworth, .1 hear, hasn't come at all. What's the 
 meanin' of that ? " 
 
 The doctor did not sit down, but stood gazing at his 
 companion with an unusual severity of expression. " Bon- 
 net," said he, " there is one thing I should like to ask you. 
 In what way did that young Englishman, Prouter, come to 
 know that Miss Claverden was at Atlanta ? There was 
 no reason why those two men should have supposed that 
 she was in that city if they had not been told of it, and 
 told, too, of the very hotel at which she and the rest of the 
 party intended to stop. Now, Bonnet, as far as I know, 
 nobody in this part of the country but you knew our ad- 
 dress. We were very careful to keep it private." 
 
 " Which was right, perfectly right," said Bonetti, leaning 
 forward and extending his hands toward the fire, " but you 
 can be certain of one thing: I didn't tell them she was 
 there. I never saw Surrey at all, and didn't know he 
 went down there. What the mischief did he go down 
 there for? Has he been making more trouble? I wish 
 I had broken his neck." 
 
 " Instead of that, I am afraid, Bonnet, that you have 
 broken your word. I presume from what you say that 
 you did know Prouter was going down there ; and, co'nse- 
 quently, that you told him where to go." 
 
 " Now, look here, doctor," said Bonetti, " you are get- 
 ting rather hard upon a man. I say, as I did before, that 
 I never told anybody where Miss Ardis was. If I said 
 anything to Prouter about Atlanta, it was merely a matter 
 
CLAVERDEN. 379 
 
 of business. He wanted to see Mr. Dunworth on a mat- 
 ter of buyin' and sellin', and it was necessary he should 
 know where he was ; so if I said anything to him on that 
 subject it was out-an'-out a matter of business, and had 
 nothing to do with Miss Ardis, or Surrey either." 
 
 " Bonnet," said the doctor, speaking more sternly than 
 the other had ever heard him speak, " you knew that Miss 
 Ardis was going to Roger Dunworth, and that wherever 
 he was she was; and you deliberately broke your word to 
 me, and told Prouter. I suppose he told Surrey, for they 
 came down together, and there has been great trouble, 
 and a duel has been fought, and the engagement between 
 Roger Dunworth and Ardis Claverden has been broken 
 off finally. And you are at the bottom of it all ! All the 
 grief, the desolation, the misery which has fallen upon the 
 Claverden family and upon Roger Dunworth has been 
 caused by you! " 
 
 "A duel!" exclaimed Bonetti. "That, I reckon, was 
 between Dunworth and Surrey. I hope Surrey was killed ! '* 
 
 " He was not," the doctor said angrily. " And is that 
 all you have to say about the consequences of your un- 
 pardonable treachery ? " 
 
 " It appears to me," said Bonetti, " that you are allowin' 
 yourself to get right sharp riled. I didn't make anybody 
 fight a duel." 
 
 " You are the cause of every evil thing that happened,' 1 
 said the doctor. " If it had not been for you those men 
 would not have gone down there, and at this moment 
 Ardis Claverden would have been a happy betrothed 
 woman in her father's house. Instead of that, misery, 
 misery, misery! " 
 
 " Upon my word," said Bonetti, " this is a little bit too 
 much for me to tackle! Feelin' as you once did in that 
 directionand with you when that sort of thing comes 
 
380 ARDIS CLAVERDEX. 
 
 once it stays always I don't see why you trouble yourself 
 so much that that match is broken off! Even if you can't 
 get a girl yourself, it's a comfort to know no one else has 
 got her." 
 
 "Bonnet!" cried the doctor, "now you have twice 
 broken your word to me, for you vowed you would never 
 mention that subject again. At the bottom of every feel- 
 ing that I have or ever had toward Ardis Claverden is the 
 strongest desire for her happiness ; and all that I have 
 done has been done hoping to make her happy. A mar- 
 riage with Roger Dunworth was the only thing in the 
 world which could have made her truly happy, and this 
 would have been brought about but for your infernal 
 treachery. Bonnet, from this moment you are no friend 
 of mine! " 
 
 And with flashing eyes the doctor stepped to a shelf to 
 get the book he had come for. 
 
 " Doctor," said Bonetti, turning toward him, " never in 
 my life did I see you in such a temper! And it appears 
 to me you are not showing good judgment. Now, a friend 
 with some sense in him that you can tackle to or have 
 him tackle to you whenever there's need for it is not to 
 be got every day. And if he runs a little short in this 
 thing or that thing, that doesn't prove that he hasn't got 
 a pretty good stock on hand of what you'd be likely to 
 want some time or other, if not just this minute. So it's 
 my advice to you to think over that matter a little. A 
 friend's a friend, and a man ought to be mighty careful 
 about lettin' 'em slide. If you were to stick to that notion 
 it would be as hard on me as it would be on you. Why ? 
 one of the things I came up here to-day to speak to you 
 about was to ask you what you had done with your horse. 
 You might as well have let me have the use of him all the 
 time you were away, and, for that matter, nowj for if 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 381 
 
 you are stayin' at Bald Hill you'll not be likely to need 
 him. There's plenty of horses there." 
 
 To these words Dr. Lester had, apparently, paid no at- 
 tention, but had busied himself in boring a hole in the 
 lower sash of his back window, into which he had driven 
 a screw so that the window could not be opened from the 
 outside. When he had finished this job he turned to 
 Bonetti and said : " I am now going back to Bald Hill, 
 and shall shut up this house." 
 
 And stepping to the fire, he pushed together the burnt 
 remains of the small sticks of which it had been made, 
 and covered them with ashes. Bonetti silently watched 
 these movements of the doctor, and when he went to the 
 door he followed him. The two stepped out, and the 
 door was locked behind them. 
 
 The doctor strode away toward Bald Hill as rapidly as 
 the condition of the roads would allow ; and as Borietti's 
 way home was in the same direction, he followed. But 
 the doctor's long legs carried him on at a rate which it 
 was almost impossible for Bonetti to maintain; and 
 although several times he tried to speak to the doctor, he 
 was obliged to fall back before he could finish his remark. 
 Dr. Lester paid no attention whatever to his companion ; 
 and when he reached a spot where he could make an ad- 
 vantageous short cut over a long, sloping, pasture field, 
 he climbed the roadside fence and made his way across 
 the field. 
 
 Bonetti for a moment hesitated, for this dttour would 
 take him out of his way, but he wished very much to 
 speak to the doctor, and so climbed the fence and fol- 
 lowed him. The surface of the half-dead turf was rather 
 rough, but it made better footway than the road, and 
 Bonetti wa,s able to break into a little trot, and thus to 
 overtake the doctor. 
 
382 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 " Look here," said he, running by the side of the other, 
 "this sort of thing ain't goin' to pay. I don't say any- 
 thing about what has riled you. A man has got a right 
 to be riled if he wants to be, and very often it does him 
 good. If you want to blaze out against me for what you 
 say I have done, bla'e away! I don't mind. You've got 
 a right to do it, and I won't hinder. But this cuttin' loose 
 altogether is a different kind of thing. It won't do for 
 you, and it won't do for me. If you would just reason 
 on that point you'd see it for yourself. What's done is 
 done, and the right thing to do now is to begin all over 
 again. If you can get any good out of me, and I can get 
 any good out of you, all we get is clear gain. And what's 
 the sense in throwin' it away? To cut loose like this 
 don't stand to reason and it isn't Christian. It's a settin' 
 a bad example to the whole neighborhood." 
 
 At this point the doctor climbed another fence, and 
 kept on his way without making any answer to Bonetti's 
 appeals. The latter still followed, speaking whenever he 
 got a chance until they had really reached the Bald Hilj 
 house, when the two separated, Bonetti going round to 
 the back, and the doctor keeping on to the front door. 
 
 Bonetti was very much cast down. Few things could 
 be so injurious to his happiness and his general well-being 
 as a breach with Dr. Lester. To this fellow-philosophizer 
 he had been in the habit, for years, of going, not very 
 much for advice, but for all manner of assistance and 
 comfort. And although he did not always get what he 
 asked for, the average result was very favorable. 
 
 " I reckon," said Bonetti, as with his hands in his 
 pockets he walked round the back of the house toward 
 the barns, " that I'd about as lief lose my back teeth as 
 split with the doctor. Confound that black-hearted 
 scoundrel Surrey! He's always makin' trouble between 
 
ARDIS CLA VERDEN. 383 
 
 friends. I wish I had thrown him into the bottomless 
 pit of the Ridgeby Caves! How d'ye, Uncle Shad? You 
 don't find much to do in these days, do you ? The winter 
 seems to hang on." 
 
 "Not much to do! " said the old negro, letting his axe 
 rest on the log he was cutting. " Why, Mistah Bonnet, 
 dar's on'y free times in de whole cohse ob de yeah dat 
 dere ain't no wuck to do ; an' dem's eatin' time, sleepin' 
 time, an' chu'ch time." 
 
 Bonetti shrugged his shoulders. " It ain't church time 
 now, Uncle Shad, and you needn't preacji. So your Miss 
 Ardis has gone off again, has she ? " 
 
 " Yaas, sah," said the old man. " She's done gone off, 
 an' it 'pears like to we all as if nobody lived at Bald Hill/' 
 
 " There's no sense in that ! " said Bonetti. " The major 
 is here, all the same, and Miss Ardis is in the habit of 
 goin' away every winter." 
 
 " Dat's so, Mistah Bonnet," said Uncle Shad, " but dis 
 time is pow'ful dif rent from any udder time. Eb'ry udder 
 time she say she go on one day, an' she say she come 
 back on anudder day, an' on dat udder day back she 
 come, shuh as clock strikin'. But now I reckon she 
 nebber come back no mo'. We all 'spected a weddin' 
 heah, wid Mistah Dunworf, but dat's done smash up. We's 
 come to de 'elusion dat Miss Ardis'll mahry some gemman 
 up norf, an' send for de major to come lib wid her." 
 
 " Humph ! " said Bonetti. " You colored people do 
 too much thinkin'. It injures your brains, and you ought 
 to stop it." 
 
 " Don' know 'bout dat," said Uncle Shad reflectively. 
 " Mos' ob our brains hab got purty hard shells, an' dey 
 ain't likely to split wid de thinkin' we all got to do. 
 An' you know, Mistah Bonnet, we all's 'bliged to think 
 'bout gittin' mahr'ed." 
 
384 ARDIS CLA VERDEN. 
 
 "Obliged!" said Bonetti with a sneer. "It would be 
 better for you and everybody else if you would let that 
 sort of thing alone, and stick to your work/' 
 
 " Bress your soul, Mistah Bonnet," said Uncle Shad, 
 " I reckon dat ef de white folks listen to what we all say 
 dey'd sometimes do better. Now, dar's Miss Bonnet. If 
 she listened to we all she'd gone an' mahr'ed some kind 
 o' man who'd split wood fer her, an' tote it too when de 
 snow's on de groun', an' gib her meat more'n two or free 
 times a week an' send her da'ters to school when dey was 
 growed up enough. But thinkin' ain't no good now, an' 
 she's got to go 'long an' do her own pickin' an' scratchin'." 
 
 " And you'd better go along and cut your wood," said 
 Bonetti, " instead of standin' there and talkin' like a mush- 
 head." 
 
 " Dat's so," said Uncle Shad. And with a broad grin 
 he whanged his axe into the log. 
 
 Bonetti walked away with his hands in his pockets. 
 " This ought to have been the first of April," he muttered, 
 " for it is certainly Fools' Day! " 
 
 Then he passed by the farm buildings and servants' 
 houses, went down the hill, and made his way across the 
 fields to his home. 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 385 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 IT was quite natural that the Chiverleys should have 
 been disappointed at being obliged to give up their 
 proposed sketching tour in the South. But it was quite 
 as natural, considering that they were the Chiverleys, that, 
 once again established in their loved studio, they should 
 say to each other a dozen times a day how much better it 
 was at this season of the year to be at home and at work 
 than to be wandering about in the South making sketches. 
 
 They had made many studies of Southern scenery, and 
 while Mrs. Chiverley set herself to work to finish the little 
 picture on which she had been engaged at the time of 
 their sudden departure from home, her husband got out 
 a large, new canvas, and with hearty enthusiasm began a 
 picture portraying the scenery of Northern Georgia as it 
 had never been portrayed before. 
 
 Ardis, too, set up her easel. She had brought her 
 painting outfit with her, and proposed going earnestly to 
 work, with Mr. Chiverley as instructor in color and manip- 
 ulation. There was nothing drooping or stricken in the 
 appearance of this young lady. She had deliberately re- 
 solved that her life was not to be overshadowed by what 
 had happened, and whenever there was an opportunity to 
 step into warmth and brightness she took that step. She 
 was not trying to appear to others that she was unstricken ; 
 she was resolutely convincing herself that this thing being 
 over she was the same brave, independent, earnest woman 
 that she had been before. 
 25 
 
386 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 Mrs. Chiverley could not entirely sympathize with this 
 state of mind. A great affliction and she knew Ardis 
 had been greatly afflicted called for a certain amount of 
 consequent sobriety. One might dance, but it must not 
 be jigs. Now, Ardis liked jigs. 
 
 " My dear child," she said to Mrs. Chiverley, " why 
 shouldn't I take part in the tableaux of the homeopathic 
 patronesses? Nobody has died and we are not wearing 
 mourning." 
 
 And in the tableaux she took part. 
 
 "There is something under all this," thought Mrs. Chiv- 
 erley. But, whatever was under, that which was above 
 was most charming and captivating to man, woman, and 
 child. 
 
 Easter came early this year, and in the revival of social 
 festivities Ardis was quite willing to take an animated part. 
 Her aunt was now in New York and anxious to witness the 
 triumph of her niece in fashionable life ; and although 
 Ardis would not leave the Chiverleys for her aunt's hotel, 
 she went with that lady to balls, receptions, germans, and 
 private theatricals ; and whenever she went her success 
 was great. To her beauty and her bright intelligence was 
 added a certain dash of manner, born of the independent 
 spirit which lay at the base of her being which carried all 
 before it, women as well as men. Her aunt was very 
 proud and very hopeful. 
 
 "What she must do," she thought, "is to go with me to 
 Europe. There are personages of high degree who come 
 over here, but the better ones remain at home." 
 
 On a certain gay occasion Ardis met with Mr. Egbert 
 Dalrymple. The moment this young man's eyes fell upon 
 her he stalked across the room toward her. Ardis was 
 earnestly engaged in conversation with a gentleman, but 
 Dalrymple drew up a chair, and injected so much of his 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 387 
 
 emotional being into a few opening remarks that the other 
 man departed as if he had been the intruder. 
 
 This young man now appeared more interesting to 
 Ardis than he had been in Virginia. There he was a bore ; 
 here his oddities threw him into an amusing relief. As 
 for Dalrymple himself, he glowed. When not actually 
 with Ardis he was near her ; his large eyes ever on her. 
 In the course of the evening she waltzed with him, and 
 when that dance was over, and he had been assured that 
 he had no chance for another, the young man abruptly 
 left the house and telegraphed to his sister: 
 
 " No longer in the outer courts of Heaven, but in its 
 inmost shining halls." 
 
 " He has met that Claverden girl and of course he is 
 on his knees before her! " said Miss Dalrymple, the next 
 morning, as she threw the telegram into the fire. " Heaven, 
 indeed! He will find it quite the opposite! " 
 
 The Chiverleys talked a great deal about Ardis. " It is 
 not correct, my dear," said Mr. Chiverley one morning, 
 leaning back in his chair to fix a critical gaze upon a com- 
 bination of color which he was working into the trunk of 
 a tree, " to say that her memory must linger. In my ex- 
 perience of life, stretching over a period not necessary to 
 recall, I have found that memories don't linger. We pass 
 through stages of action and feeling, and we begin again. 
 Ardis will begin again." 
 
 " You ought to be ashamed of yourself to talk in that 
 way," said his wife. " How many stages did you pass 
 through, I should like to know, before you entered your 
 present one? And how many more do you expect to 
 enter, should you get through with this?" 
 
 " By ' this ' I suppose you mean our wedded life," said 
 Mr. Chiverley, putting in some touches of gray to simulate 
 moss, " which is, as you ought to know, one all-absorbing 
 
388 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 stage. It began when our affections first came of age, 
 and will continue until there is nothing left of them. 
 This is very different from that. That is broken off, 
 snapped short, done with. And at her age there is the 
 certainty that she will begin again." 
 
 " What you say is pure assumption," said Mrs. Chiverley. 
 
 " You may think so, my dear," said Mr. Chiverley, " but 
 if you would trust to the judgment of your only husband 
 you would do well. What he says may appear improb- 
 able at the moment, but as time rolls on the correctness 
 of his conclusions becomes so unmistakably obvious that 
 you imagine you always thought that way yourself." 
 
 " I do nothing of the kind," said Mrs. Chiverley. 
 
 " But he never hesitates to seek the aid of a collateral 
 intelligence, and therefore would be very much obliged 
 to you, madam, if you would take a look at this tree and 
 tell him if it resembles, in any way, those massive trunks 
 we saw in Northern Georgia." 
 
 " Do you know what I would call that picture if I were 
 you ? " said Mrs. Chiverley, after she had gazed at it a few 
 moments. 
 
 "I wish I did," said her husband, turning quickly 
 toward her. 
 
 " I would call it : ' The Seven Ages of Trees.' There is 
 the infant tree ; and near by, the sapling school-boy with 
 shining, morning face ; and so they go on, including the 
 fat justice over there, until they reach the second child- 
 ishness of this aged trunk, inanely decorating itself with 
 Virginia creeper." 
 
 " A capital idea! " exclaimed Mr. Chiverley, " capital ! 
 But we must not allow our fancies to interfere with earnest 
 purpose. This is a scene on the Upper Mississippi." 
 
 Mrs. Chiverley sighed. Earnest purpose seemed to do 
 so little toward selling pictures. At present the state of 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 389 
 
 their " permanent gallery," as Mr. Chiverley sometimes 
 called his studio, began to weigh upon the mind of his 
 wife. There were periods, coming round in tolerably 
 regular cycles, when her mind was a good deal weighed 
 upon in this way. 
 
 The addition of Ardis to the studio family in no way 
 increased the pressure on Mrs. Chiverley. In fact, it 
 lightened it. On this second visit Ardis, as a sister artist, 
 had insisted upon becoming one of the family and paying 
 her share of the expenses ; and she paid, besides, at regu- 
 lar rates, for the tuition received from tyEr. Chiverley. But 
 in order to make the financial affairs of the little party 
 perfectly satisfactory, it was necessary that Mr. and Mrs. 
 Chiverley should also pay their share of the expenses, 
 and at this time there was reason for doubt in regard to 
 the power of the worthy pair to accomplish this. 
 
 Where the picture bought by ex-Governor Upton had 
 gone Mrs. Chiverley did not know, for it had arrived at Bald 
 Hill securely boxed and addressed to Ardis, who, of course, 
 had been very careful not to have it opened during the stay 
 of the Chiverleys in that house ; but where the money had 
 gone which paid for the picture she knew very well. And, 
 more than that, she knew that it was all gone. 
 
 Every day at twelve o'clock Mr. Chiverley promptly 
 ceased from his labors, and went out to take a brisk walk 
 until one, which was the luncheon hour. It happened dur- 
 ing one of these absences that a middle-aged gentleman 
 came into the studio. He came because he had recently 
 discovered that this was a studio which he had never vis- 
 ited, and it would have lain hard upon his conscience to 
 know of a studio in the city and to be ignorant of what 
 was in it. 
 
 The effect produced upon this gentleman was very 
 much like the effect produced upon other gentlemen who 
 
390 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 visited this studio. In many of the pictures there was 
 something which at first sight was attractive, but a care- 
 ful examination almost always revealed something else 
 which was very disappointing. Thus the paintings were 
 seldom condemned as a whole, but after a visitor had 
 made the round of the room, it was quite the usual thing 
 for him to go away without making any reference to a 
 financial transaction. 
 
 Ardis and Mrs. Chiverley, each at their easels, occa- 
 sionally glanced at this gentleman, who had accepted the 
 invitation of the latter to look about for himself. Neither 
 of them had any hope, but each had a feeble desire to 
 see if he looked longer at one picture than at another. 
 Presently he stopped before Mr. Chiverley's recently fin- 
 ished canvas. He stood there for some time,, occasionally 
 stepping a little back in order to get a better view, and 
 then coming closer again. Presently he turned to Mrs. 
 Chiverley. 
 
 " Madam," said he, " can you tell me where the scene 
 of this picture is laid? It reminds me somewhat of the 
 North and somewhat of the South, and I am not sure 
 that it does not contain suggestions of the East and the 
 West." 
 
 " Yes," thought Ardis at her easel, " and of the North- 
 east, and the Sou'-sou'west, and all the other points of the 
 compass." 
 
 Mrs. Chiverley left her seat and approached the visi- 
 tor. She was a little piqued at his remark, 
 
 " Some pictures have a meaning," she said, " which is 
 not apparent to every one at first sight." 
 
 " You are correct, madam," said the visitor. 
 
 "This painting, for instance," continued Mrs. Chiver- 
 ley, "represents the seven ages of trees." And then, 
 with as much readiness as Jacques detailed the seven ages 
 
ARD1S CLAVERDEN. 391 
 
 of man to the duke, she pointed out in the trees of the 
 picture the counterparts of these ages. 
 
 "Madam," said the visitor, "you delight me. I admit 
 that I utterly failed to see the point of this picture; but 
 now that I am aware of its meaning I understand its ap- 
 parent incongruities. Meaning despises locality." 
 
 "You are right," said Mrs. Chiverley earnestly. " Mean- 
 ing is above everything." 
 
 " Madam/' said the gentleman, his eyes still fixed upon 
 the canvas, " as a student of Shakespeare, as well as a 
 collector, in a small way, of works of art, I desire to have 
 this picture, provided its price is not beyond my means." 
 
 Mrs. Chiverley gazed at him in an uncertain way. She 
 did not seem to take in the import of his remark. 
 
 From her easel Ardis now named the price which Mr. 
 Chiverley had fixed upon for the picture. He never fin- 
 ished a painting without stating very emphatically what 
 he intended to ask for it. 
 
 "That is reasonable," said the gentleman, "and you 
 may consider the picture mine." And he handed Mrs. 
 Chiverley his card. Then, imbued with a new inter- 
 est in the studio, he walked about looking at others of the 
 pictures. 
 
 " This little study," said he, " seems to me as if it ought 
 to have a significance, but I declare I am again at 
 fault." 
 
 " Yes," said Mrs. Chiverley, " it ought to have a signifi- 
 cance. In fact there is a significance connected with it. 
 I could easily tell you what it is, but if you were after- 
 ward to look at the picture you would see no such mean- 
 ing in it." 
 
 " Perhaps this is one of your husband's earlier works," 
 said the gentleman, " in which he was not able to express 
 his inspirations." 
 
392 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 " It is not one of my husband's works," said Mrs. Chiv- 
 erley; "it is mine." 
 
 The visitor now glanced at the clock, which was ticking 
 away more cheerfully than it had ticked for a long time, 
 and said that he must go, but that he would come again 
 to-morrow and look at more of the paintings ; and proba- 
 bly would bring a friend with him. 
 
 " The best time to come," said Ardis, speaking quickly, 
 " is between twelve and one. At that hour there is the 
 best light on the pictures in this studio." 
 
 The moment that the gentleman had departed Ardis 
 flew to Mrs. Chiverley and threw her arms round her 
 neck. "Now, my dearest," she exclaimed, "you know 
 your vocation in life. You must put meanings to Mr. 
 Chiverley's pictures." 
 
 When the head of the house returned he was, of course, 
 delighted to find that his painting had been sold. 
 
 "That is the way with us! " he cried. " We have spasms 
 of prosperity. One of our works is bought, and up we 
 go. Let us so live that while we are up we shall not re- 
 member that we have ever been down. And now, my 
 dear, if you will give me the card of that exceptional ap- 
 preciator of high art, I will write his bill and receipt in- 
 stantly, so that if he should again happen to come while 
 I am out there may be nothing in the way of an immedi- 
 ate settlement." 
 
 Mrs. Chiverley stood by him as he sat at the desk. 
 " You must call the picture," she said, " ' The Seven Ages 
 of Trees.' " 
 
 " Nonsense ! " exclaimed Mr. Chiverley, turning sud- 
 denly and gazing with astonishment at his wife. " That 
 will do for a bit of pleasantry, but the title of the picture is 
 ' A Scene on the Upper Mississippi.' You don't want to 
 deceive the man, do you? " 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 393 
 
 " No, I do not," said Mrs. Chiverley, " and that is one 
 reason why I did not give it your title. It is a capitally 
 painted picture, and as a woodland ' Seven Ages ' it is 
 simply perfect. That was what it was sold for; and for 
 that, and nothing else, will the money be paid." 
 
 Mr. Chiverley looked at her for a moment longer, and 
 then bursting into a laugh he returned to his desk. " You 
 have touched me to the quick," he said. " Money has 
 given title before, and it shall do it now. There is the 
 receipted bill ! " he cried, pushing back his chair. " And 
 now I shall run down and get something of the pop variety 
 to add to our luncheon. We ought to have an uncom- 
 monly good meal to celebrate this happy anniversary. 
 But," he said, stopping for a moment, " perhaps it has not 
 been a year since we sold a picture." 
 
 " Go along," said Mrs. Chiverley with a laugh, " and let 
 the pop be ginger beer." 
 
 The impetuous, affectionate, and earnest admonition of 
 Ardis went straight to the heart of Mrs. Chiverley. 
 
 " Yes, that is what I will do," she said, when the two 
 were alone. " I will give meanings to Mr. Chiverley' s 
 pictures. They have everything but that, and if I can 
 give them what they lack I am sure I ought to do it. For 
 instance," she continued, "look at that! Mr. Chiverley 
 calls it a study of two women. But who in the world will 
 care for it if it is looked upon simply as that? They are 
 well painted, but they are not particularly interesting 
 women. Now, I shall call it : ' The one shall be taken and 
 the other left ; ' and don't you see an interest immediately 
 begins to grow up about it ? The mind of the observer is 
 set to work. How shall one of them be taken? By 
 death., by captor, or by bridegroom? And which one shall 
 be taken? And why? These will be very interesting 
 points. People can decide as they please. And each one 
 
394 
 
 ARDIS CLA VERDEN. 
 
 who looks at it will infuse a different subtlety into the 
 picture." 
 
 The next day, at the hour at which he had been told 
 that there was the best light on the pictures, the purchaser 
 of " The Seven Ages " came again, bringing with him two 
 friends. The th::ee went around the studio with Mrs. 
 Chiverley, and .looked at the pictures with her eyes. 
 
 " I did not suppose," said the visitor of the day before, 
 turning to his friends, " that we had among us an artist so 
 capable of locking up in an apparently ordinary exterior 
 such lesson, such purports, such artistic admixture of the 
 simple fact and the basic idea, and it is the unobtrusive- 
 ness of the idea which gives the work its greatest value." 
 
 " That is true," said one of the others. " It is a bore 
 to have motives thrust upon your attention. Pictures 
 with those protuberant significations annoy me." 
 
 " Precisely," said the third gentleman, " and although 
 true art should always have a meaning, it should allow us 
 to discover that meaning for ourselves. To evoke mental 
 action in the beholder is one of the noblest objects of art." 
 
 The " Seven Ages " was paid for, and two small pic- 
 tures which had been the subjects of remark by Mrs. 
 Chiverley were bought. 
 
 And from this day the prosperity of the Chiverleys be- 
 gan. They never grew rich, nor did the name of the 
 painter ever become truly famous ; but for people who 
 liked brains in a picture the studio became a resort, and 
 the sale of a painting ceased to be an unusual event. 
 
 Mrs. Chiverley made some attempt to get her husband 
 to work a meaning into his pictures while he was painting 
 them, but in this she did not succeed. When they were 
 finished they always appeared to her to mean something 
 entirely different from what had been originally proposed ; 
 and she was forced to admit to herself that it would be 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 395 
 
 better to let him go on in his own way, and for her to work 
 in the purports after he had done his part. It was, indeed, 
 as she had discovered in her own work, a very difficult 
 thing to work up a picture to a fixed significance. It was 
 ever so much easier to adapt the significance to the picture. 
 
 Mr. Chiverley soon learned that it was wise to allow his 
 wife to have her own way in this matter, but now and 
 then he rebelled. When she had worked out the meaning 
 of a painting she would explain it to him, for it was not to 
 be expected that his work would always be sold in his 
 absence. 
 
 " Confound it, madam! " he exclaimed on one of these 
 occasions. " That is a painting of the salt mines of 
 Thurgis; and you call it 'The Patriarch's Last Break- 
 fast! ' It seems to me that is going a little too far." 
 
 " Not a bit of it! " replied Mrs. Chiverley. " We only 
 see the entrance of the mines, anyway, and that will do 
 as well for one kind of hole as another. And who will 
 care for the salt mines of Thurgis? As for that old man, 
 sitting on a rock eating his simple meal, he doesn't look 
 in the least like a worker in the mines ; he is too aged and 
 he is too well-dressed. His pouch and his staff show him 
 to be a traveller. He has stopped here to eat his morning 
 meal; and he little dreams that those two figures in the 
 middle distance, standing by the notch in the rocks through 
 which he must pass, are waiting to murder and to rob him. 
 The knowledge of this in the beholder of the picture 
 gives an intensity of interest to that simple meal." 
 
 " I should say so ! " cried Mr. Chiverley. " It is horrid ! 
 I never painted such a blood-chilling subject in my life. 
 Those men are peaceful operatives coming to their work. 
 No, madam, that is not his last breakfast. I will not stand 
 it!" 
 
 " Very well, then," said Mrs. Chiverley. " Let us call it 
 
396 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 ' The Wheel of Time/ That dark opening is really the 
 entrance to the mines, or work-a-day life. That old man 
 has finished his labors. He comes out; he is no longer fit 
 for work ; he sits down ; he takes his ease. Yonder are 
 younger men coming to take his place. And so it 
 goes on forever. The wheel of time revolves." 
 
 "It will not do," said Mr. Chiverley; "too gloomy. 
 It will make me think of myself hobbling out of this studio 
 and sitting on the curbstone eating a crust of bread." 
 
 Mrs. Chiverley earnestly regarded the picture for a few 
 moments. " If that does not suit you," she said, " suppose 
 we call it 'Dawn at Eve.' Those figures are the old 
 man's sons. He has been wandering over the world look- 
 ing for them. He considers himself near the end of his 
 days ; and close by is that yawning chasm which symbolize? 
 to him the grave of hope. But in a few moments his sons 
 will reach him ; new life will dawn upon him dawn at 
 eve! That title will suit the picture very well because 
 there is a tinge of sunset to the right, while on the other 
 side there is a decided early-morning sky." 
 
 "Very good," said Mr. Chiverley. "Let the salt mines 
 of Thurgis dawn! But I must beg of you, my dear, that 
 you will try to be on hand when the subject of this picture 
 is explained. I am afraid I might get things mixed and 
 call it ' The Evening Breakfast, ' or * The Salt of Hope.' " 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 397 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 NOT very long after Mr. Egbert Dalrymple had waltzed 
 with Ardis and telegraphed to his sister, he called 
 at the studio. He did not come to buy pictures; he ig- 
 nored pictures. It would have been difficult for an ordi- 
 nary observer to decide from his conduct what he had 
 come for. After a nod to Mrs. Chiverley her husband 
 was not at home and a silent hand-shake with Ardis, who 
 was at work at her easel, he walked up and down the 
 room, his eyes fixed upon what Mrs. Chiverley afterward 
 called "the middle future." He disregarded invitations 
 to take a seat, and when Mrs. Chiverley, thinking it her 
 duty as mistress of the house, to endeavor to interest 
 every visitor, asked him what he thought of Mr. Chiverley's 
 last picture, he stopped for a moment, turned his eyes 
 toward her, and in a low and hollow tone inquired : " Is 
 he then dead?" 
 
 This remark, notwithstanding its lugubrious nature, 
 made both the ladies laugh ; and Mis. Chiverley apologized 
 for her incorrect expression. Mr. Dalrymple made no 
 further remark, but continued his solemn perambulations, 
 ever and anon glancing at Mrs. Chiverley as if he wished 
 that she had painted her last picture years upon years 
 agone. This good lady knew very well what was the 
 matter with him ; and at last she felt she could no longer 
 endure his striding and his gazing. 
 
 Jumping up, she went over to Ardis and whispered to 
 her: " Shall I go out?" 
 
398 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 Ardis nodded, and putting on her hat, Mrs. Chiverley 
 went out. 
 
 The sound of her steps on the stairs had not died away 
 when Egbert Dalrymple approached Ardis and sank upon 
 his knees beside her easel. His feet were close together 
 with the toes turned up beneath them, and he sat well 
 back upon his heels. His hands were clasped before him ; 
 his body was erect; and his yearning countenance was 
 raised toward Ardis. 
 
 Her first impulse was to give him a dab of red paint on 
 his nose from the brush she held in her hand, for it was 
 difficult to take Egbert Dalrymple seriously. But this 
 impulse, of course, was but momentary. 
 
 " I need not speak," he murmured. " You know my 
 soul. Your soul. It is yours, as I am. Mind, soul, heart, 
 body. I am yours. Only that yours." 
 
 "If you were really mine," said Ardis, "the first thing 
 I should tell you to do would be to get up ; for if Mr. 
 and Mrs. Chiverley come back and find you in that medi- 
 aeval position they will be sure to go instantly to work and 
 sketch you." 
 
 " Here is my place," he said. " At your feet always, 
 through the forever. I am yours; only yours; else I exist 
 not." 
 
 " Mr. Dalrymple," said Ardis, " I thought you wanted 
 to say something like this, and I am very glad you have 
 had the opportunity, because, for my part, I wish to say 
 that I absolutely and positively decline to accept you as 
 mine. It will be of no use at all for you to allude to this 
 subject again. And so please get up." 
 
 The young man did not move from his position. " Your 
 words make no difference," he said. " I am yours, that 
 is all I am. Tell the air you will not breathe it ; tell me 
 I am not yours ; it is one." 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 399 
 
 By a most remarkable concatenation of circumstances 
 it happened that at that moment it was just one o'clock, and 
 as the clock asserted this fact in a clear, distinct tone, Mr. 
 Chiverley, with his accustomed loyalty to luncheon time, 
 opened the* door. 
 
 At the first sound of his coming Egbert Dalrymple rose 
 to his feet and turned a lowering countenance upon the 
 in-comer. Mr. Chiverley looked surprised when he saw 
 him, but instantly approached with cordial salutation. 
 
 Dalrymple, however, took no notice of his outstretched 
 hand, but standing for a moment with his eyes fixed upon 
 the floor, he ejaculated "So!" and without the least 
 pretense of leave-taking, he strode away. Mr. Chiverley 
 burst out laughing, and Ardis could not help joining him. 
 " What was it doing? " he asked. 
 
 " Proposing and getting declined," said Ardis. 
 
 " I don't mind luncheon being delayed," said Mrs. 
 Chiverley, who came in presently, " if Ardis is sure that 
 she has given that stalking glare his quietus." 
 
 " I have done my best," said Ardis, " but I am by no 
 means certain that I have succeeded." 
 
 Her doubts were well founded, for in two days a long 
 letter arrived from Mr. Dalrymple, in which he stated that 
 as it was impossible to be exempt from inane intrusion in 
 the place where Miss Claverden was now staying, he was 
 forced to picture his soul on paper. And this he did to 
 the extent of eight pages. But in all his picturing ap- 
 peared no allusion whatever to what Ardis had said to 
 him. It was his custom to ignore that which was dis- 
 tasteful. 
 
 Ardis returned his letter, after reading a page or two of 
 it, and briefly wrote that as he and his family were her 
 neighbors at her native place, she wished always to remain 
 on good terms with them ; but any connection stronger 
 
400 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 than that of friendly neighbors was simply impossible, and 
 she requested him to write her no more letters, and never 
 again to return to the subject which he had broached at 
 the studio. 
 
 In a few days more she received another letter, which 
 she sent back unopened; and it was not long after this 
 that Mr. Dalrymple called upon her. Fortunately she 
 was not at home. 
 
 " It will be absolutely necessary to have him shot," 
 said Mr. Chiverley, afterward. " This sort of persecution 
 will not do at all." 
 
 " You need not trouble yourself to shoot him," said Ardis. 
 " I shall not open his letters, and if he presents himself 
 again to me, I can effectually dispose of him. Now that 
 I know what he really is, I shall show him what I can be." 
 
 Spring advanced ; the weather became more and more 
 delightful ; the festivities of society gradually disappeared, 
 the people in the rural districts began to advertise 
 admirable country residences eight minutes' walk from the 
 railroad station; and Major Claverden wrote from Bald 
 Hill that in that part of the world the joyful season called 
 by him the Ardis-time had come. 
 
 So Ardis, reversing the action of the migratory birds, 
 prepared to fly southward, to where the cool breezes from 
 the Blue Ridge blew all summer over the hills and through 
 the valleys of her native county. 
 
 The Chiverleys, of course, bewailed her going, but as 
 they were to visit Bald Hill in the summer, they bore up 
 bravely. Her aunt showed that she had been greatly dis- 
 appointed in the result of Ardis' stay in New York. 
 
 " It was all on account of your living in that studio," 
 she said. " If you had been here with me I believe you 
 would have had half a dozen proposals during the past sea- 
 son ; but of course nobody was going to call on you there." 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 401 
 
 Ardis laughed. "We had visits," she said, "from a 
 great many pleasant people. And more than that, I re- 
 ceived in that studio a proposal of marriage." 
 
 " From whom? " asked her aunt, quickly. 
 
 " From a gentleman who lives in the Bald Hill neigh- 
 borhood but has spent part of the winter in this city." 
 
 " Humph ! " said her aunt. " You can get plenty of that 
 kind without coming here and going into society. Of 
 course you rejected him? " 
 
 " Oh, yes," said Ardis. 
 
 "Next winter," said her aunt, "you must positively 
 come and stay with me, and if you want to study painting 
 you can go to your studio in the mornings. Then we shall 
 see what we shall see." 
 
 " Yes," said Ardis, " that is what we shall see." 
 
 If the rising of the sun; if the birds and flowers of spring; 
 if the glories of the summer; if the full fruition of the 
 vines and the golden wealth of the fields had all come 
 in one day to Major Claverden, they would have been 
 paled, overshadowed, and rendered unnoticeable by the 
 coming of his daughter. And no bird nor flower, sun nor 
 season, was gayer or more beautiful or brighter than was 
 Ardis. 
 
 " She has got over it ! entirely over it ! It is easy to see 
 that! " said the major to Dr. Lester as, late on the evening 
 of his daughter's arrival, they sat in the library with their 
 pipes. 
 
 "Yes," said the doctor, "I think she has." 
 
 Dr. Lester's mental being was in a tremble. Ten times 
 a minute, when he trembled the most, did he tell himself 
 that there was no earthly reason nor justification for any 
 feeling of this kind. But still his mental being continued 
 to tremble. 
 
 " Of course I am glad," the major went on to say, "very 
 26 
 
4 o2 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 glad to see that my child has passed through this terrible 
 ordeal without scar or scorch ; but I cannot help feeling a 
 little disappointment at the same time. If there had been 
 the least sign in her manner that she remembered what 
 had been, I should have felt a slight encouragement. But 
 she asked about Roger Dunworth precisely as she would 
 have inquired about one of those young Englishmen he is 
 teaching to be farmers." 
 
 " Yes, I noticed that," said the doctor. 
 
 " I did not believe," said the major, "that I could allow 
 myself to drop into such a doleful train of thought on this 
 happy day. But it is no wonder my spirits should be 
 downcast when I consider that, leaving out Roger, there 
 is not one man in the whole circle of my acquaintance to 
 whom I would wish to give my daughter's hand." 
 
 The doctor sighed and nodded. For some moments 
 the two sat in silence. Then said the major: 
 
 " Is your pipe out? " 
 
 " Yes," replied the doctor. 
 
 " Then suppose we go to bed," remarked his host. 
 
 Life at Bald Hill now went on very much as it had gone 
 in the past summer. Ardis painted., rode, and visited. 
 People came and went. And the country grew beautiful, 
 as it knew well how to grow. 
 
 Roger Dunworth did not come to Bald Hill. He in- 
 tended to do so, but he would wait awhile. He knew ex- 
 actly how Ardis would receive him when he came. She 
 would be to him the same kindly, charming hostess that 
 she was to everybody. In her demeanor there would be 
 nothing to suggest the past. For himself he knew that 
 his first meeting with her would be a heart-breaking 
 plunge. He would have to take it ; but not yet. 
 
 A very faithful visitor to Bald Hill was Tom Prouter. 
 This enterprising young man, having disposed of his milk 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 403 
 
 business in a fragmentary manner that is to say, by sell- 
 ing some of the cows to Mr. Dunworth, some to a 
 butcher, the only good horse to Miss Airpenny, and the 
 wagons and utensils to anybody who would take them at 
 any price had, with all the enthusiastic earnestness of his 
 nature, taken up the life of a vine grower. He had found 
 a man who was desirous of laying down such a life, and 
 had bought of him a vineyard well planted but not yet in 
 bearing, in the midst of which stood a little house of four 
 rooms. 
 
 Prouter was charmed to find everything thus ready to 
 his hand. There was a living room parlor, library, study, 
 or whatever one might choose to call it in which he could 
 have his meals and enjoy himself after his labors. Back 
 of this room was a little kitchen, and above were two 
 chambers, one for himself and one for a friend. His 
 servants as many as he might need could sleep in their 
 own cabins. 
 
 He now launched himself boisterously into his new 
 career. He began by having the little house painted, 
 inside and out, and spared no money in furnishing it 
 handsomely and comfortably; he put up a barn and 
 other outbuildings, which somewhat dwarfed the house; 
 and even planned for the planting of a grove of trees and 
 wooded avenue leading down to the main road. But hav- 
 ing reflected that tall trees would shade his vines, he gave 
 up this scheme. 
 
 " This is a business," he said to Miss Airpenny, who 
 had ridden over to look at his place, " into which a man 
 can put all the energy of his nature. Now, you couldn't 
 put all the energy of your nature into milk, could you?" 
 
 " No, I couldn't," said Miss Airpenny. "It's not a bad 
 little house. What will you sell it for? " 
 
 "Sell it! " cried Tom Prouter, his face flushing its red- 
 
404 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 dest. "Do you suppose I would sell it? You might as 
 well ask a man to sell his wife or his children as to sell his 
 home to which he intends to devote the thoughts and 
 labors of his life, and where he expects to peacefully end 
 his days ! A home is a home, and not a thing* for bargain 
 and sale!" 
 
 "Really!" remarked Miss Airpenny. "And now let 
 me see what sort of barn you have built." 
 
 As soon as the frost was out of the ground Tom Prouter 
 arose at daybreak, and worked with his own hands in his 
 vineyard. This continued for about a week, and then he 
 found it would be better economy to employ some labor- 
 ers and give most of his time to overseeing them. 
 
 All now went on very well until Miss Ardis Claverden 
 returned to Bald Hill ; and then Tom Prouter suddenly 
 remembered that his bachelor establishment might place 
 him in a false light. Without sufficient reflection he had 
 made everything look too permanent. He very much ob- 
 jected to being looked upon as a permanent bachelor, and 
 he bitterly told himself that he ought to have thought of 
 that before. He desired a reputation for energy and in- 
 dustry, but it must be that sort of energy and industry 
 which belonged to the head of a family. 
 
 However, if he had made a mistake he must do his best 
 to correct it. On his first visit to Miss Claverden and 
 this was the day after she arrived he made it very plain 
 to her that his present place of residence and endeavor 
 was nothing more than a training school. Of course such 
 a house as he had would not do at all for a life-long home, 
 such as he proposed to establish, but it very well answered 
 his purpose while he was fitting himself for the manage- 
 ment of an estate in this part of the country. 
 
 " It's a great deal better, you know," said he, " to be 
 well grounded in that sort of thing vines, land, stock, 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 405 
 
 and such like before you go into it on a big scale, with 
 a house with a lot of rooms in it, and all that. Isn't it 
 now, Miss Claverden?" 
 
 " Oh, yes," answered the lady. " I think your plan is a 
 very good one. Many men, now rich, have begun life, 
 and even brought up families in houses no larger than 
 yours." 
 
 "By George! " said Prouter to himself as he got into 
 his dog-cart to drive away, "that's a royal girl! I really 
 believe that if she out-and-out loved a man she would be 
 willing to go with him and live in a house no bigger than 
 mine! And mine isn't a bad house, either! If I build 
 on one side of it a drawing-room and a dining-room, and 
 a library with a bay-window in it, and some good-sized 
 bedrooms up-stairs, and perhaps a third story for boxes, 
 servants, and that sort of thing, it would be no end of a 
 good house. And then I should certainly plant the grove 
 and the avenue of trees, even if they did shade a few 
 vines. But don't you hurry, Tom, my boy. Be careful 
 about mistakes. Steady is the word! " 
 
 Steady was truly the word most applicable to Tom 
 Prouter's visits to Bald Hill. Nearly every day found 
 him there. There was never any lack of excuse for go- 
 ing, if excuse were needed. His interest in vine-growing 
 urged him to frequent counsel with Major Claverden, who 
 was always glad to talk with anybody upon this great sub- 
 ject. 
 
 This year the old gentleman was a little despondent, for 
 the wine of Bald Hill seemed slipping away into the very 
 distant future. The vines which he had expected to yield 
 this year the much-desired juice were in a bad condition, 
 and would probably have to be grubbed up, the fate 
 which so many of his experimental vines had already met. 
 Grubbing up was easy enough, but the time required for 
 
406 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 the new vines to reach their period of rich maturity dis- 
 couraged the major. He had almost determined not to 
 make any more plantings. 
 
 Prouter was full of hope. He was eager to plant all 
 sorts of things. It was his planting-time of life, and his 
 cheery enthusiasm had a good effect upon the major, who 
 was always glad to see him. 
 
 After each of these conferences Prouter was sure to 
 make a stop at the studio, or the house, or under some 
 spreading tree on the lawn, or in whatever other place he 
 might be able to find Miss Claverden. There his tongue 
 would wag, his face flush, and his eyes sparkle for as long 
 a time as he deemed proper for a man who had declared 
 " steady " to be the word. He did not wish the lady to 
 think that he was an idle fellow with plenty of time on his 
 hands. Such men were not well thought of in that com- 
 munity; and he seldom took leave without making some 
 reference to the necessity of hurrying home to attend to 
 his affairs. 
 
 One morning Mr. Prouter, on inquiring for Miss Claver- 
 den, was informed by a servant that she was in the library. 
 He proceeded toward this familiar room, but before he 
 reached the door he discovered what the maid had not 
 told him that the lady was not alone. 
 
 Prouter instinctively stopped. He did not wish to in- 
 trude upon Miss Claverden, but he also greatly objected 
 to going away without seeing her. He was not a man who 
 listened by partly-opened doors, but still, if the person 
 inside should be Dr. Lester or any other intimate friend 
 of the family, he would not hesitate to go into the room. 
 It was a gentleman's voice he heard, but he did not rec- 
 ognize it ; and he was on the point of turning away when 
 his attention was arrested by the high tones of Miss Cla- 
 verden's reply: 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 407 
 
 " Mr. Dalrymple," she said, " I told you never again to 
 mention that subject to me. Since you pay no regard 
 whatever to my wishes I am forced to ask you to leave 
 me. And unless you come as a friend of the family, and 
 without any intention of offering yourself to me, I desire 
 that you shall not visit this house again." 
 
 In almost any other instance the impropriety of listen- 
 ing any longer would have been very plain to Tom 
 Prouter, but at this moment he was too much agitated to 
 consider propriety. There was a man in that room who 
 was insulting Ardis Claverden ! He knew now who he 
 was ; an unspeakable ass. And she was ordering him out 
 of the house. Perhaps she might need assistance ! 
 
 Now Mr. Dalrymple spoke. " Demand," he said, 
 speaking clearly and smoothly, " that I become a blond. 
 Ask me to be of hoary age ; corpulent decrepit. I can 
 be any of these as well as one who loves you not. Yours 
 now; yours always. Words matter not; time changes me 
 not. But, as you desire, I go now." 
 
 The stupendous effrontery of these remarks made the 
 blood boil in the veins of Tom Prouter. His English 
 heart of oak swelled and throbbed within him, and every 
 one of his vigorous muscles seemed to grow tense and 
 hard. Should he bound into the room and dash that man 
 to the floor? Or should he spring upon him as he came 
 out, rush him to the door, and hurl him over the railing 
 of the porch? 
 
 But Miss Claverden now came out of the room, her 
 face pale and her step quick ; and behind her followed 
 Egbert Dalrymple. Prouter sprang to her side. 
 
 "Shall I ki " "Kill him," he was going to say, 
 
 but changed it to "kick him down the steps? " 
 
 Ardis betrayed no surprise at Mr. Prouter's words, nor 
 at his apparent knowledge of the situation. She was agi- 
 
4 o8 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 tated and angry. "Let him alone!" she said. "It is 
 only Mr. Dalrymple ! He is going." 
 
 Prouter did not move, but his eyes flashed, his fists were 
 clinched, and his sinewy form was all a-tingle for a spring. 
 Egbert Dalrymple, as he walked deliberately out of the 
 library and toward the hall door, glanced at the young 
 Englishman with about as much fear and as much interest 
 as if he had been a badly stuffed tiger in a furrier's win- 
 dow. Reaching the door he turned and bowed to Ardis ; 
 and then, drawing on his gloves as he went, he descended 
 the steps and walked over the lawn. 
 
 It was a beautiful day, and, impelled by his youth and 
 vigor and his love for the scent of foliage and herbage, he 
 had come afoot across the fields. As he walked he 
 stooped and picked a daisy. He looked at it a moment, 
 raised it to his lips and kissed it ; then he looked at it again. 
 
 " The same daisy," he murmured. After which he 
 carefully put it into his buttonhole, and glancing down- 
 ward at it murmured: " The same daisy ! So! Always 
 the same! Ever the same! " 
 
 Then with easy and with graceful tread he passed 
 on over the soft grass, and through the shaded pathways 
 of the woods, inhaling with expanded chest the fragrant 
 air already touched with the warmth of coming summer. 
 
 As soon as Dalrymple had gone, Ardis walked out on 
 the broad piazza at the back of the house, and Prouter 
 accompanied her. 
 
 " You must excuse me, Miss Claverden," he said. " You 
 may think I have been intruding, but they told me you 
 were in the library; and when I reached the door I heard 
 you speaking severely to that thing, and I didn't know 
 but " 
 
 "Oh, don't mention him," said Ardis, taking a seat. 
 "He has gone and there is an end of it! Isn't this a 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 409 
 
 lovely day? If it hadn't been necessary to send my mare 
 to be shod I should have been off for a gallop over the 
 fields." 
 
 " Oh, that needn't stop you ! " cried Prouter. " There's 
 my horse at the front in the dog-cart. I can have him 
 out of the shafts and your saddle on him in no time. He 
 has never been ridden by a lady, but I wager he will go 
 finely. And if I may ride with you, any mount will do 
 for me." 
 
 " Thank you," said Ardis with a smile, " but I think we 
 will postpone the ride. And now sit down and tell me 
 how you get on with your meals. Yesterday you said 
 that you had to cook your breakfast yourself." 
 
 It was a delightful change, she thought, after the scene 
 she had just passed through, to sit and talk to an abso- 
 lutely unromantic young man who could converse without 
 adoring and whose mind ran upon horses and vines in- 
 stead of souls and futures. The excitement which her 
 anger had caused had not yet died away, and it showed 
 itself in the brightened vivacity of her words and manner. 
 To Prouter it was heavenly to talk on any subject to this 
 sparkling angel. 
 
 " That is a fact," he said. " I did have to cook my own 
 breakfast. The woman who has been coming in to do 
 that sort of thing was such a beastly cook that I vowed, 
 when I was eating my dinner the night before, that as soon 
 as I had finished I would drive her out of the house ; and 
 the moment I had swallowed the last mouthful I got up 
 and did it. I have another one now, though I fancy she 
 is going to turn out worse than the last. But I have 
 heard of a negro man down in the other end of the 
 county who has been in the navy. Now, if you can get 
 hold of a fellow who has been in the navy, he can almost 
 always cook. And he can make himself useful to you in 
 
4 io ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 other ways, too. He can brush your trousers, black your 
 boots, and do all that sort of thing." 
 
 "A perfect treasure such a man would be!" cried 
 Ardis, laughing so heartily that Prouter joined in without 
 in the least seeing any cause for hilarity. 
 
 " But I don't want you to think, Miss Claverden," he 
 cried, " that I am intending always to get on in this slip- 
 shod fashion. I am making plans in my mind for a regu- 
 lar corps of servants ; and I don't know but I shall import 
 them from England. They are thoroughly trained over 
 there, you know butlers, cooks, housemaids, footmen, 
 even down to the stable-boys. Every rascal of them 
 knows what he has to do, and goes and does it." 
 
 " But what use could you have for such a household, 
 Mr. Prouter? " exclaimed Ardis. " You would be obliged 
 to get lodgings for them in the neighborhood : your house 
 would not hold them." 
 
 " Bless my soul, Miss Claverden ! " said Prouter. " Do 
 you suppose I intend always to live in a little house like 
 that? I am making plans now to add to it; to build up 
 a regular mansion." 
 
 " Your servants will need a very good-sized house," 
 said Ardis. " And shall you continue to live in the little 
 part of it?" 
 
 And thus the talk went merrily and earnestly on until 
 Prouter declared that he should have been off long ago, 
 and tore himself away. He went home, skipping over 
 the grass and forgetting that he had come in a dog-cart. 
 As he approached his vineyard the laborer on watch 
 aroused the two others, who were comfortably napping in 
 the sun, and the three went vigorously to work. 
 
 "Boys," cried Prouter, striding radiantly into their 
 midst, " this is a glorious day, and I am going to give you 
 a half-holiday! and here is fifty cents apiece for you. 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 411 
 
 But hold up! Before you go, one of you must run over 
 to Bald Hill and get my horse and dog-cart. I didn't 
 come back by the road." 
 
 "Reckon he done sell dat little farm o' his'n," said 
 one laborer to the other, as they gayly walked homeward. 
 " Don't reckon dar's anything in dis whole worf dat make 
 him so pow : ful tickled as to sell his place." 
 
 " Ef he's done gone an' sol' it," said the other, " I reckon 
 we all kin wuck at de nex' thing he buys, jus' de same! " 
 
 " Dat's so, shuh ! " was the reply. 
 
 These men had been assistants in the milk business. 
 
4 I2 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 IN these early summer days this world was a very happy 
 world to Tom Prouter. It had always presented to 
 him a gladsome aspect, though sometimes flecked with 
 spasmodic streaks of business or social perplexities, but 
 now it glowed beneath him as though he walked upon the 
 upper surface of a sun-gilded cloud. 
 
 He continued to make frequent visits to Bald Hill, 
 but he was very wary and prudent about them. 
 " Steady " was still the word. He thought he had been 
 indiscreet in making mention of the house he intended to 
 build and of the servants he would employ. The knowl- 
 edge of that sort of thing ought to dawn upon a person 
 gradually. If it were plumped down too suddenly it would 
 appear to have a design in it. 
 
 Now, Prouter did not wish that Miss Claverden should 
 imagine that he had any designs upon her. He had never 
 been so cautious in his life. The present, strongest de- 
 sire of his nature was to make a good impression upon the 
 lady of Bald Hill. He endeavored to banish from his 
 manner and deportment all signs of frivolity and fitfulness, 
 and, consequently, he sometimes became a little dull ; but 
 as he never perceived this the world glowed no less 
 brightly beneath him. 
 
 In order that the neighborhood might not come to too 
 hasty conclusions in regard to the constant intercourse 
 which he kept up with Bald Hill, he also made visits to 
 others of his friends ; but these never interfered with the 
 
ARDIS CLA VERDEN. 413 
 
 regularity of his dropping in on the major and his 
 daughter. 
 
 Sometimes he visited his old friends and countrymen, 
 the Quantrills, and had some lively talks with Miss Air- 
 penny, with whom he felt under no manner of restraint, 
 and could be as frivolous and fitful as he pleased. Occa- 
 sionally he stopped and had a smoke and chat with Dr. 
 Lester; and, much to the amusement of the Cranton 
 family, paid some long visits to Miss Norma. 
 
 Next to Bald Hill he liked best to visit the Dunworth 
 farm ; but it was more on account of the pleasure he re- 
 ceived from the society of Messrs. Parchester, Skitt, and 
 Cruppledean than from that of the master of the house. 
 He could not help feeling a very great pity for Roger 
 Dunworth, and as he well knew that it would not do to 
 exhibit any sentiment of this sort, his efforts at repression 
 resulted in a certain stiffness which was very unpleasant 
 to himself, whatever it might be to any one else. 
 
 He was very glad to be able to assure himself that until 
 he had become certain that the engagement between Miss 
 Claverden and Dunworth was positively broken off, he 
 had never thought of such a thing as going in on his own 
 account. This approval of his conscience helped to make 
 the world a bright one to Tom Prouter, and even the 
 shadows caused by his pity for Dunworth were not very 
 dense, nor altogether unpleasant. 
 
 On a certain bright morning Mr. Prouter sat by the side 
 of Miss Claverden on the front piazza of Bald Hill. She 
 was busily engaged upon some light sewing, and he had 
 taken a seat for a few minutes to rest himself. As Tom 
 Prouter had never before been heard to say that he was 
 tired, it was indeed well that there happened to be a chair 
 there, in order that this primal experience of fatigue might 
 be relieved. 
 
414 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 It was not very long before Ardis was called into the 
 house and begged her visitor to excuse her. As she left 
 her work and sewing materials on the chair, Prouter felt 
 sure that she would soon be back again ; and thrusting 
 his hands into his pockets, leaning back and extending 
 his legs, he gave himself up to the joy of existence. 
 The gently rustling trees, the rose-scented air, the golden 
 sunlight, the stretches of smooth green, the blue sky, the 
 softly sailing clouds, and the momentarily expected return 
 of Ardis made him feel as if he were indeed in Paradise. 
 Suddenly he sprang to his feet. His eyes glared, the 
 color left his face; and he exclaimed: "The devil! " 
 
 Yes, the devil had entered into Paradise. On the high- 
 road, plainly visible from where he stood, in a buggy 
 slowly driven by a boy, he saw Jack Surrey. 
 
 With mouth open and eyes dilated Prouter stood, and 
 watched, and waited, and watched. Gradually the buggy 
 approached the Bald Hill gate. It reached it. It did 
 not stop, but passed on. 
 
 Prouter gave a little gasp, but before he could assure 
 himself that he felt relieved he heard Ardis returning. 
 
 "What is the matter with you, Mr. Prouter? 1 ' she ex- 
 claimed as she came out on the porch. " You look as if 
 you had seen a ghost, or perhaps snakes." 
 
 The young man was now glaring steadfastly in an oppo- 
 site direction from the road, and as he expected, Ardis' 
 gaze followed his. He continued to glare. " She must 
 not look around," he thought, "until that buggy has 
 passed entirely out of sight." 
 
 " What in the world is it? " asked Ardis, now becoming 
 a little alarmed. 
 
 " Oh, it's nothing, nothing," said Prouter quickly. " I 
 am subject to this sort of thing that is to say, I never 
 had any experience of this kind before but people will 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 415 
 
 have certain jumps and agitation without any reason 
 whatever." 
 
 " I am glad to hear that," said Ardis. " But won't you 
 have a glass of wine? " 
 
 " No, no, no, thank you very much," said Prouter hur- 
 riedly. " I must be off now. I've got lots of things to 
 do at home. I ought to have been there long ago." 
 
 And taking a hasty leave, he departed. He must hurry 
 away, and see where that incarnate fiend had gone to. 
 
 " I hope the poor young man is not in money difficul- 
 ties and saw the sheriff upon the road," thought Ardis, as 
 she resumed her seat. " Now that I think of it, he was 
 looking so desperately the other way that he must have 
 seen something on the road." 
 
 This morning Mr. Prouter had come to Bald Hill on 
 foot, and as soon as he thought himself out of sight of the 
 front piazza he began to run across the lawn and through 
 the orchard, making a diagonal course toward the road in 
 order that he might catch sight of the buggy and the 
 fiend, and see where they were going. 
 
 " It may be," he thought, as he ran, " that he intends to 
 drive to Richmond on this road. It would be like him to 
 do that, and if that is the case, the faster he goes the 
 better!" 
 
 Reaching the road Prouter vaulted over the fence, hur- 
 ried onward, and soon rounding a little curve, he beheld 
 the buggy about half a mile ahead of him. He was now 
 on high ground whence he could see the road, or por- 
 tions of it, for a long distance, and he was satisfied that 
 he could determine whether or not Surrey was going to 
 Richmond. If he turned to the right at Dr. Southey's he 
 was certainly on his way to that city, which was only fifty 
 or sixty miles distant. 
 
 But Surrey did not take the road to Richmond. Long 
 
41 6 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 before he reached Dr. Southey's house he turned to the 
 left, and drove through a gate at the roadside. 
 
 "By the lord Harry! " cried Prouter, with such a start 
 that he almost sprang from the ground. " He is going to 
 my house! " 
 
 Tom Prouter now ran home at the top of his speed, 
 vengeance in his -eye, and destruction in his two clinched 
 fists. The buggy had a long start of him, however, and 
 reached the little house some minutes before his arrival. 
 Hurrying, hot, red and savage, along the rough lane which 
 was to become a stately avenue, Prouter beheld Surrey, 
 cool and smiling, standing in the open doorway of his 
 house. The buggy had been driven away to the back, 
 and on the porch lay two large valises. 
 
 A few steps from the house Prouter stopped short. 
 "What is the meaning of this?" he cried. "What are 
 you doing here? " 
 
 " Doing? " said Surrey, a slight smile showing under his 
 heavy moustache. " I have come to make you a visit. 
 Didn't you ask me to do so the last time you saw me? " 
 
 Prouter swallowed an objuration so big that it almost 
 choked him. " Ask you? " he gasped. 
 
 "Certainly," said Surrey, "you invited me. I accepted, 
 and here I am. But come in. I don't like to see you 
 standing outside there." 
 
 So saying, Surrey walked back into the room, and 
 Prouter, still boiling, accepted the invitation to enter his 
 own house. Surrey took off his hat, seated himself in an 
 arm-chair near a small table, and looked about him. 
 
 " Neat and comfortable," he remarked. " I should say 
 this sort of thing would suit you exactly." 
 
 " It doesn't suit me," said Prouter, still standing, and 
 with his hat on. " The house is a makeshift, and doesn't 
 suit at all. And what is more " 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 417 
 
 "Now don't proceed to say," interrupted Surrey, "that 
 it doesn't suit you to have me here, because that would be 
 going back on yourself, which is a thing I don't expect of 
 you." 
 
 Prouter breathed a deep, long, rasping breath. " What 
 beastly business brought you here anyway? " he cried. 
 
 "The beastly business of visiting you," said Surrey; " I 
 told you that before. And now have you any kind of 
 thing that a man can drink? I am thirsty." 
 
 Prouter glared at him for a moment, and then strode to 
 a closet, bringing out a bottle of beer and a tumbler, which 
 he banged down on the table by Surrey. The latter 
 pushed back the fastening of the patent cork, poured out a 
 glass of beer, and drank it with great relish. Then having 
 emptied the remaining contents of the bottle into the 
 tumbler he took a cigar from his pocket, lighted it, and 
 leaned back in his chair. 
 
 "Now this is what I call enjoyable," he said, "make- 
 shift, or not." 
 
 With heaving breath, red face, and dilated nostrils 
 Prouter stood and stared at him for a few moments. 
 " Now look here," he presently exclaimed, " this sort of 
 thing will not work ! You have done mischief enough in 
 these parts! If you had a spark of manliness in you, you 
 wouldn't stay where you are hated by everybody from the 
 cradle to the grave." 
 
 Surrey smiled, and Prouter went on. " You are always 
 doing the most devilish things just at the time they ought 
 not to be done." 
 
 " I shall be glad to hear," said Surrey, " at what times 
 you think it proper to do devilish things. But we will 
 discuss that later." 
 
 "You can't deny it," said Prouter. "You come in 
 27 
 
4 1 8 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 when everything is happiest, and make a hell upon earth! 
 Here everything is beginning to go straight again " 
 
 " Do you mean," interrupted Surrey, " that Miss Claver- 
 den and Dunworth are engaged again ? " 
 
 "No, I don't!" cried Prouter. "That's all smashed, 
 ruined, done with, and scattered to the winds. There is 
 no possibility of their ever coming together again. You 
 have totally dashed all that into dust and flinders ! They 
 are no more to each other than if they had never met." 
 
 "Then what do you mean by things going straight?" 
 asked Surrey. 
 
 "That is none of your business!" cried Prouter. "I 
 should hate to be a man always prying into things with 
 which he has no concern." 
 
 Surrey looked steadily at Prouter for a moment, and 
 then he asked: " Are you courting Miss Claverden? " 
 
 "No, I am not! " roared Prouter. "You might as well 
 expect a man to court a woman at her husband's funeral ! 
 You needn't suppose everybody has your heathenish 
 ideas about doing things. What I do, or intend to do, 
 or don't intend to do, are my own affairs, and I answer no 
 man in regard to them." And with this remark he stamped 
 angrily up and down the floor. 
 
 Surrey took his cigar from his mouth, and drank the 
 glass of beer he had poured out. Then he leaned for- 
 ward, with his elbow on the table, and addressed the 
 young Englishman. "Now, Prouter," he said, "don't 
 work yourself into a passion. I see exactly how the 
 ground lies, and I may as well tell you at once that if any 
 plan you have made shall fail you shall have no cause to 
 lay the blame on me. So you need give yourself no 
 further trouble about that." 
 
 " What do you mean? " said Prouter. " What have you 
 got to do with my plans? " 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 419 
 
 " From the way you have been talking," answered Surrey, 
 " one might suppose that I had a good deal to do with 
 them. But, in reality, I have nothing. I did. not come 
 down here to pay attentions to Miss Claverden. In fact, 
 I do not expect to see her." 
 
 " Then what did you come here for? " asked Prouter. 
 
 " I like the country, and I came to see you. Don't 
 you call those reasons enough? " 
 
 Prouter stood silent for a moment. Then he walked to 
 the closet and took out another bottle of beer, which he 
 put down before Surrey. After which he thrust his hands 
 into his pockets and looked out through the open door- 
 way. 
 
 " It is not a bad country," he said. 
 
 Surrey opened the bottle, and poured out a small por- 
 tion of the beer; and then Prouter returned to the closet 
 and got out another glass, which he filled for himself, and 
 drank. He now opened the back door and looked into 
 the kitchen. 
 
 " I drove off my new cook this morning," he remarked. 
 "She was the worst one I have had yet. But another 
 woman promised to come by noon, and if she don't show 
 up soon I'll take my gun and go after her." 
 
 " You are a jolly housekeeper," said Surrey. 
 
 " I am not half a bad one," answered his host. " I am 
 going to hire a sailor as soon as I can get down to the 
 lower end of the county." 
 
 " A queer place to find sailors ! " said Surrey. " And 
 what you want with one I do not know. But we won't 
 discuss that at present. I am not troubled about the 
 cooking. If there is no one else to do it, I can do it my- 
 self. I have camped out enough to know all about that. 
 You have two bed-rooms in this house, haven't you? " 
 
 " Of course I have," anwered Prouter. 
 
420 ARDIS CLA VERDE N. 
 
 " Well then, suppose you show me to the one that is to 
 be mine." And, so saying, he stepped out on the porch 
 where his baggage had been left. 
 
 Prouter took up one of the valises, and led the way up- 
 stairs, followed by his guest carrying the other bag. 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 421 
 
 CHAPTER XLIT. 
 
 JACK SURREY had very good grounds for not telling 
 Prouter his object in coming down there, for he could 
 not have given to himself a definite reason for this action. 
 Since he had left Atlanta he had been an aimless and a 
 somewhat dissatisfied wanderer, and after having given a 
 good deal of desultory thought to the subject, the con- 
 viction had been forced upon him that no place suited 
 him so well as the neighborhood of Bolton ; and he there- 
 fore determined to go and make a visit to that amusing 
 young fellow, Tom Prouter. 
 
 Having come to this conclusion he seriously assured 
 himself that he was not going down into that region on 
 account of Ardis Claverden. His case had been very 
 definitely settled by that young lady ; although, to be sure, 
 circumstances had changed since then, and he did not 
 know whether they had rearranged themselves or not. 
 But he strongly opined that at present the sight of him 
 would be distasteful to Miss Claverden; and that, there- 
 fore, he would keep out of her way, at least until he had 
 seen how things were going. Under these circumstances 
 most men would have stayed away altogether. But Jack 
 Surrey was not at alt like most men. 
 
 It was pleasant to him to think that he was in the same 
 rural neighborhood with Miss Claverden; and that they 
 breathed the same general air. But, on the other hand, 
 his freedom of movement was very much interfered with 
 by his determination to keep out of her way. On public 
 
422 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 roads, and in a town like Bolton, people must of course 
 take their chances of meeting; but by all reasonable- 
 methods he would let it be seen that he had no inten- 
 tion of intruding upon her. 
 
 This resolution, however, did not interfere with his hav- 
 ing a very good time. He took long rambles into the 
 woods and mountains ; sometimes with his host, and some- 
 times without him. Prouter frequently drove him in his 
 dog-cart into town ; and very often Surrey borrowed the 
 horse and cart and drove himself where he pleased. He 
 had made acquaintances in the town, and with these he 
 sometimes stopped for a chat ; and, after a time, he even 
 called upon some people he had known in the Bald Hill 
 neighborhood. 
 
 His success in this respect, however, was not great. 
 When Doctor Lester beheld him approaching his house 
 that worthy gentleman was rilled with such feelings of 
 abhorrence that he opened a back window, and leaping out 
 through it, made for the woods. He had heard that this 
 bearer of evil and of misery, this pestilential and shameless 
 man, was staying at Prouter's, but he did not believe that 
 he would have the black-hearted effrontery to call upon 
 him. Surrey found an empty house and went away. 
 
 "It would seem," thought the doctor, as he sat on the 
 ground in the heart of the forest, his pipe in his mouth 
 and his back against a tree, " as if the wretch could do 
 no further evil now, but I am not sure ; I am not sure. 
 Anyway, the sight of him is evil to me. 
 
 The next visit paid by Surrey was to Heatherley where 
 he called upon Miss Norma Cranton. When this young 
 lady received the card of the visitor who had been shown 
 into the parlor, her face flushed, she stamped her foot 
 upon the floor, and declared that she would not go one 
 inch down to see him. Such unparalleled impudence 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 423 
 
 she had never heard of ! For him to call upon her ! 
 What on earth could be the object of his coming? 
 
 She stopped the servant, who was on the point of going 
 down-stairs to tell the gentleman that her mistress could 
 not see him, and stood reflecting. Her anger at what 
 she considered the insult of the call did not abate, but it 
 was now mingled with an uncontrollable desire to know 
 what the man could have to say to her. She had heard 
 that he was in the neighborhood, but she had not imag- 
 ined it possible that he would come to Heatherley to call 
 upon her. But she must know what he wanted; and 
 down-stairs she went. 
 
 Norma's reception of Mr. Surrey was decidedly freezing ; 
 the temperature of her manner might have been placed at 
 about fifteen degrees above zero. She did not even offer 
 him her hand, but after a slight inclination of the head 
 as she entered the room she sat down near the door, 
 holding herself very erect and not touching the back of 
 the chair. 
 
 Surrey resumed his seat which was on the other side of 
 the large room. " I hope, Miss Cranton," he said, " that 
 you have been well since I last saw you." 
 
 " Yes," she said, somewhat severely. " Have you any 
 business with me? " 
 
 " Yes, Miss Cranton," Surrey replied. " I have called 
 to see you upon business ; and I come to you because I 
 believe you to be a lady, who, no matter what you may 
 think of me and my affairs, will speak to me fairly and 
 squarely. I wish to make some very clear and plain 
 statements to you, and I know no one in these parts who 
 is so likely to give plain and clear opinions regarding my 
 statements." 
 
 "Indeed!" remarked Miss Cranton. 
 
 The assurance of almgst any presumptuous man would 
 
424 ARDIS CLA VERDE N. 
 
 have been congealed by the coldness of her tone, but 
 Surrey had prepared himself for chilliness and this had no 
 apparent effect upon him. He proceeded: 
 
 " I know very well, for I have been told often enough, 
 that certain misunderstandings which have occurred 
 among your friends hereabouts have been ascribed to my 
 influence. And in speaking of these things I do not 
 wish to beat the bush, or to hint ; I desire to speak clearly 
 and plainly, as I said before, and to call things and 
 people by their right names. Those who look upon me 
 as an emissary of mischief and that there are persons 
 who look upon me in that way I have frequently been in- 
 formed are entirely in the wrong. It is no more than 
 justice that I should be allowed to make a straightforward 
 declaration of what I have intended to do, and what I 
 have done. You may think just as badly of me after I 
 have finished speaking as you do now, but still honor and 
 justice demand that I shall be allowed to speak." 
 
 Norma looked steadily at him, but made no answer. 
 She was perfectly willing that honor and justice should 
 have their way ; and more than willing to hear what was 
 about to be disclosed. 
 
 " I came to Bolton and to Bald Hill," continued Surrey, 
 " to see Miss Claverden. I desired to marry her. You 
 perceive I have no concealments. For a time I got on 
 very well, and I had no reason to suppose that I had not 
 as good a chance as any other man. But I discovered 
 that there was another man who had a better chance than 
 myself ; but I did not know him as a preferred suitor of 
 Miss Claverden until he suddenly flared up, got jealous, 
 and made a row.*' 
 
 " He had a right to be jealous," said Norma. 
 
 "Of course he had," answered Surrey, "a perfect right. 
 But then I am not to blame because he chose to show his 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 425 
 
 jealousy as he did. There are better ways of showing 
 that passion which I would have advised had I been con- 
 sulted. When I found how matters stood I went away 
 and left the field clear. I don't pretend to say that I 
 went away willingly, or that I was in any hurry to go. I 
 was as much in earnest as anybody concerned in the 
 affair. If there was any chance left for me I wanted to 
 stay and see what it was." 
 
 " If you had kept away from her when you did leave, 
 Mr. Surrey," said Norma, " all might have been well ; but 
 it was perfectly wicked of you to go down after her to 
 Georgia! " 
 
 " I differ with you, Miss Cranton," said Surrey. " I had 
 reason to believe that Miss Claverden was at Atlanta 
 and I went down there on purpose to see her. I have no 
 intention of concealing the actual truth. Her engage- 
 ment with Dunworth had then been broken off for some 
 time, and I did not know in what way her feelings might 
 have changed, and I determined to go and find out. I 
 maintain that I had a perfect right to go and find out." 
 
 " But you had no right to make all the trouble you did 
 make," said Norma, " and totally ruin the happiness of 
 two lives." 
 
 " I had nothing to do with all that," said Surrey. " That 
 trouble was arranged entirely by Miss Claverden and 
 Dunworth. One got angry at my being there, and chal- 
 lenged me to fight a duel ; the other discarded her lover 
 because he fought a duel ; that was all there was of it. I 
 went there with no intention of making trouble, and in- 
 deed I did everything a man could do to avoid making trou- 
 ble. I accepted the challenge, of course, because I am no 
 coward, and will give no man the opportunity to look upon 
 me as such, but I made up my mind that I would not 
 wound a woman, especially a woman whom I had loved 
 
426 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 and would be glad to love again. If I killed Dunworth 
 I should inflict a terrible grief upon Miss Claverden. I 
 therefore resolved to fire in the air, and I did fire in the 
 air. Could more than that be expected of a man? " 
 
 " No," said Norma, her eyes turned upward toward the 
 portrait of a male ancestor which hung upon the wall. 
 " A brave man could do no more nor less than what you 
 did after you were challenged. But the trouble came 
 from what you did before that." 
 
 " But I still maintain," said Surrey, " that I ought not to 
 be held accountable for it. I assert that what I did was 
 straightforward and above board. If I found things as I 
 hoped they might be, so much the better for me; if I 
 foun 1 them not so, so much the worse; in either case I 
 should have accepted my fate, and there would have been 
 an end of it." 
 
 " If you had spoken in this way before, Mr. Surrey," said 
 Norma, " it would have been much better for everybody." 
 
 " I never had a chance to speak," he answered. " I am 
 always willing enough to talk, and to put myself on record 
 in the largest kind of letters ; but down here nobody has 
 taken the trouble to consult me in the least. Our good 
 friends have simply come to their own conclusions, and 
 settled matters in their own way." 
 
 " We have a perfect right to do that, Mr. Surrey," said 
 Norma, " but of course it might have been better if things 
 had been really discussed." 
 
 " Well, we will not speak any more of that, Miss Cran- 
 ton," said Surrey. " Fault enough has been found with 
 me, I think you will admit, but I have not the least dispo- 
 sition to strike back. I came down here this time because 
 I like the country and I like the people. Because I lost 
 what I came for on my first visit is no reason why I should 
 give up everything else. I had an idea of settling in this 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 427 
 
 region, and I do not know why I should banish that idea 
 now. I should like ever so much to have an orchard and 
 a vineyard and all that sort of thing. I envy the inde- 
 pendent life that young Prouter leads." 
 
 " Then I suppose you would have your son with you," 
 said Norma, whose mind in this planning for the future 
 had far outrun that of the speaker. 
 
 A slight look of surprise appeared on Surrey's face,. and 
 then he smiled. " Yes," he said, " when he is old enough 
 he would come down to visit me, of course. But just now 
 he is only six, and his mother's family have charge of him. 
 They guard him as if he were a perishable diamond. I 
 expect I shall be delighted to have him live with me, but 
 I must wait until he is a great deal older before that can 
 be arranged. At present I am entirely alone. As I said 
 before, I should like to make a home in this neighbor- 
 hood. But I think you will agree with me that it would 
 be pretty hard for me to come and settle down here among 
 a lot of enemies." 
 
 " Of course it would," promptly replied Norma. 
 
 " Now I want to be friendly with all of you. There is 
 not a man nor woman in this county toward whom I feel 
 the least enmity. I should like to go to Dunworth, and 
 take him by the hand and tell him that so far as I am 
 concerned the past is all forgotten and ask him to forget 
 it. And then, there is Dr. Lester. He is a jolly, good 
 old fellow, but I don't believe he would shake hands with 
 me. As for Major Claverden he is the finest specimen 
 of an old Virginia gentleman I ever saw, and I want to 
 be on good terms with him." 
 
 " O Mr. Surrey," said Norma, " I think you are per- 
 fectly right in wanting to make friends with the people 
 who may become your neighbors ; but I beg of you not to 
 go see Mr. Dunworth, and not to go to Bald Hill at 
 
428 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 least for the present. Perhaps after awhile it won't mat- 
 ter, but do not go now." 
 
 During this protracted conversation the temperature of 
 Norma's demeanor had been gradually rising, and now it 
 was, at least, at sixty degrees ; temperate certainly, with a 
 suspicion of warmth in it. Surrey had noticed this change, 
 but he had not taken the slightest advantage of it. He 
 had not seated himself nearer to her, nor did his voice or 
 manner betray any recognition of a thaw in her bearing 
 toward him. He had too much tact to do anything which 
 might alarm her, or make her think she was speaking too 
 freely to a man whom she had always detested. 
 
 " I do not see, Miss Cranton," he answered, " that I 
 could do any harm by going to either of those houses ; 
 but as I told you, I came here, not only to speak clearly 
 and plainly, but to listen to what you might clearly and 
 plainly say to me. I felt sure that you would speak in 
 that way; and since you feel so strongly about it I am 
 perfectly willing to defer to it ; and I promise you I will 
 not go to Bald Hill, nor to the Dunworth farm until I am 
 quite sure no further complications will ensue. In fact I 
 am willing to put the matter into your hands. When you 
 say I may go, I will go." 
 
 And, so saying, he arose, and Norma left her chair and 
 involuntarily made two or three steps toward him. " Mr. 
 Surrey," she said, " you must not do that ! I cannot take 
 on myself such a responsibility! In fact I really have 
 nothing to do with the matter, and I only speak on account 
 of my friendly feeling toward toward everybody." 
 
 " I am sure of that," said Surrey, making a leisurely step 
 or two in her direction. 
 
 "And as to your making friends in this neighborhood," 
 said Norma, " I am willing to do everything I can to help 
 you ; and I am sure Mr. Prouter will introduce you to all 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 429 
 
 the English families about here; and there are the Dal- 
 rymples, whom perhaps you know already; and, in fact, 
 there is a good deal of society here, though, of course, 
 somewhat scattered." 
 
 " You are very good," said Surrey, " and I must thank 
 you, Miss Cranton, for the straightforward and satisfactory 
 manner in which you have talked with me. And- now I 
 will bid you good afternoon." 
 
 He extended his hand to her with an air as if it 
 were the most natural thing in the world for him to do so, 
 and Norma took it as if it were the most natural thing in 
 the world for her to do so. And as he left, she followed 
 him out on the porch. 
 
 " Mr. Surrey," she said, " I feel as if I ought to thank 
 you for the promise you made, and I do hope that you 
 will not see any reason for changing your mind." 
 
 " No fear of that," said Surrey. " With me a promise 
 is a promise. And though you do not insist upon it I in- 
 tend to confer with you before I visit either the Claver- 
 dens or Dunworth. Is not thTat Mr. Cranton ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Norma, " that is my father." 
 
 Mr. Cranton was a small man, plain in appearance, and 
 retiring in disposition. He attended closely to the busi- 
 ness of his farm, avoided company, and to casual visitors 
 at Heatherley was almost unknown. But he was a man 
 of education and reading, and those who were so fortu- 
 nate as to know him well enough to spend an evening 
 with him found him an agreeable and profitable talker. 
 
 " I should like very much to know Mr. Cranton," said 
 Surrey. " Will you present me? " 
 
 "Certainly," said Norma. And as her father came 
 nearer, his eyes bent on the ground, she called to him. 
 "Father," she said, "this is Mr. Surrey. I want to make 
 you acquainted with him." 
 
430 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 Mr. Cranton looked up, put down a wooden rake which 
 he was bringing to the house to mend, and approached 
 the steps, but before he reached them Surrey ran quickly 
 down and shook hands with him. After expressing his 
 pleasure at making the acquaintance, and declining an in- 
 vitation to stay to dinner, which came as naturally to Mr. 
 Cranton as would a remark about the weather, Surrey 
 raised his hat to Norma and departed. 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 431 
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 ON the afternoon when Jack Surrey walked from Prou- 
 ter's house to Heatherley, Dr. Lester, through his 
 open window, saw him pass along the road. The doctor 
 was a man of kindly temper and of gentle manner, but as 
 his eyes fell upon Surrey he struck his fist upon the table 
 by which he was sitting, and exclaimed : " Perdition take 
 him!" 
 
 The doctor's mind was discomposed, and he could not 
 go on with his work. He was copying and restoring for 
 Major Claverden a dilapidated map of the Bald Hill es- 
 tate ; but thoughts of Surrey would not coincide with pre- 
 cise lines and careful measurements. 
 
 " I wonder," said the doctor to himself as he walked up 
 and down the room, " if she knows he is here. She should 
 be put upon her guard. Not that there is actual danger 
 to her, but her eyes should not be permitted to fall upon 
 him. It might be well for her to go away for a time. At 
 any rate she should know that he is here; most certainly 
 she should know." 
 
 After a little more striding about the room, the doctor 
 put away his drawing materials, took up his hat and his 
 grapevine walking-stick, and set out for Bald Hill. 
 
 When he arrived there he was told that Miss Ardis was 
 in- her studio. The doctor was sorry to hear this ; he did 
 not like the studio. When he saw Ardis there she gener- 
 ally wore a long apron covered with dabs of various-col- 
 ored paints. He did not think the most perfect beauty 
 
432 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 in the whole world should appear in an attire like this, 
 nor did it coincide with his ideas of propriety that a lady 
 of her station and family, a lady who in appearance, breed- 
 ing, and blood was worthy to consort with the noblest in 
 rank and to wed with royalty, should ever be seen in ap- 
 parel the least unkempt, and working with more or less 
 grimy oils and paints. He had the highest possible opin- 
 ion of her pictures, but he did not like to see her paint. 
 
 In spite of this dislike, and it would have been a very 
 strong dislike for surroundings and occupation which 
 would have kept him away from Ardis, the doctor walked 
 down to the old stone building which served for a studio. 
 The doors and the windows were all open, and before he 
 reached the house the doctor saw Ardis, and he was sur- 
 prised and delighted to perceive that she was not attired 
 in the unpleasing garb of an artist; and that, apparently, 
 she was not painting. She was seated near the large north 
 window at the end of the room, and as the doctor knocked 
 on the frame of the open side door before entering, she 
 looked up and gave a little start. 
 
 It was very unusual for Ardis to start at the entrance of 
 any one, but when she saw Dr. Lester at the door she was 
 the least bit in the world embarrassed, and a good deal 
 amused. She was engaged in embroidering some velvet 
 which was to be made into a pair of slippers ; and these 
 were to be given to Dr. Lester on his birthday, which would 
 occur in a few weeks. Not wishing that he should see 
 this present until it was finished, and knowing that he 
 would not be very likely to drop in upon her at the studio, 
 she had come here. 
 
 This early summer afternoon was warm and Ardis was 
 dressed in white, which, according to the doctor's opinion, 
 displayed her beauty to perfection. She wore a pink gir- 
 dle and some pink roses at her bosom, and in her face, as 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 433 
 
 her visitor entered, there was a little more of pink than 
 was usual with her. 
 
 But Ardis almost instantly recovered from her slight 
 surprise, and the feeling of amusement at the speedy over- 
 throw of her little scheme only served to give additional 
 brightness to her reception of the doctor. His eyes spar- 
 kled with delight. They could do nothing for him which 
 made him more truly thankful that he owned them than 
 to show him Ardis thus. 
 
 When he had seated himself, Ardis turned the velvet 
 toward him and asked him how he liked the floral decora- 
 tions which had begun to appear upon it. The doctor 
 had not the least idea of the ultimate object of this piece 
 of work, but he thought the embroidery beautiful. He 
 liked to see Ardis doing such things as this. How charm- 
 ing her white and delicately-formed hand appeared against 
 the glossy surface of the velvet! 
 
 The studio seemed a new place to the doctor that day. 
 He sat with his back to the easels, the paints, the brushes 
 the canvases standing with their faces to the wall, and all 
 that artistic disorder which so jarred upon his sense of 
 what was fitting for Ardis. Before him was the loveliest 
 woman in the world, relieved by a background of green 
 leaves, sunlight, vines, and the softened hues of distant 
 foliage. It seemed to him a wrong and cruel thing to 
 bring bad news into such a Paradise, but he had come to 
 perform what he believed to be a duty and he must not 
 shrink from it. 
 
 " Miss Ardis," he said, "my object in calling upon you 
 
 to-day is to inform you of something which may surprise 
 
 and annoy you. Mr. Surrey is again in this neighborhood." 
 
 Ardis smiled. " You are always good, doctor," she 
 
 said, " and it is very good indeed of you to come and tell 
 
 me that ; but I knew it already. I have not seen him, but 
 
 28 
 
434 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 some of the servants mentioned that he was staying with 
 Mr. Prouter." 
 
 "But what are you going to do about it?" asked the 
 doctor earnestly. " I am grieved and indignant that this 
 man should have had the hardihood to show himself in this 
 part of the country. I can hardly suppose that he pos- 
 sesses the effrontery to present himself at your house, but 
 I do not know. He is capable of almost anything! And 
 in going about the country you are liable to encounter him 
 at any time." 
 
 Ardis laid her work in her lap and turned her eyes upon 
 the doctor. " Dr. Lester," said she, " let us have a little 
 quiet talk upon this subject. Mr. Surrey is nothing to 
 me, and I do not intend that his appearance here shall 
 disturb me in the least. I do not think it is very good 
 taste in him to appear in this neighborhood, but I cannot 
 discompose myself on account of his want of taste. I 
 speak very plainly to you, doctor, because you are such 
 a dear friend, and I want you to know that all the trouble 
 I went through with, and which you so bravely went through 
 with me, is now a thing of the past. I am resolved that it 
 shall be so. As to Mr. Surrey, he is, of course, free to 
 visit or to go where he pleases. He can come to this 
 county, or go to another; I have nothing to do with it. 
 If I meet him I shall acknowledge that I know him- that 
 is all. I have no fear that he will endeavor to renew his 
 former acquaintance with either me or my father; his not 
 coming here proves that. But if he should so endeavor, I 
 can readily make him understand that he is nothing more 
 than one of many men whom I merely know. 
 
 "And while I am talking to you in this way, doctor, I 
 want to impress upon you that all in which Mr. Surrey 
 could make trouble, has disappeared. I have thought a 
 great deal about you, doctor, in connection with this mat- 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 435 
 
 ter, and I hope most earnestly that you do not think me 
 inconstant, or changeable." 
 
 "Indeed, I do not!" replied the doctor, the words 
 coming from his very heart of hearts. 
 
 Ardis thrust into the velvet the embroidery needle, 
 which she had been holding, and extended her hand to 
 the doctor. " That is right ! " she said. " I can always 
 trust to you." 
 
 The doctor took her hand and held it for some seconds. 
 A wild desire seized him to drop upon his knees and kiss 
 it. Why not? He had kissed that girl a thousand times 
 when she was a child. And, more than that, she herself, 
 since she had been grown up, not very long ago but here 
 his thoughts stopped. A sudden coldness came over him. 
 He had remembered too much. Very gently and respect- 
 fully he released her hand. 
 
 She continued: "What I have done was done because 
 perfect trust and loyalty is absolutely necessary to me. I 
 trust and am truly loyal, and I demand the same. It was 
 not easy for me to bring myself to this way of thinking. I 
 went through a terrible trial, but I determined to do my 
 duty to myself and to to Roger Dunworth. I would not 
 ruin the happiness of my life, nor the happiness of his life. 
 And now we come round again to our text, which is that 
 Mr. Surrey is not of the slightest importance." 
 
 She took up her work and recommenced her embroi- 
 dery. 
 
 " I am glad to hear that," said the doctor. " I merely 
 dreaded to have him near you; that is all." 
 
 " Doctor," said Ardis, looking out of the great window 
 at the leaves and the vines and the sunlight, " I wish there 
 were more like you! Then we could trust, and be 
 trusted ; and this world would be a sensible one, and a 
 happy one." 
 
436 ARDIS CLA VERDE N. 
 
 The doctor murmured something in reply, and looked 
 upon the floor. Was this last stroke necessary? 
 
 Not long after this the doctor left. Walking medita- 
 tively homeward he saw on the other side of the road Mr. 
 Surrey coming jauntily down from Heatherley. The doc- 
 tor's first impulse was to turn his head the other way and 
 increase his pace ; but he instantly remembered that this 
 was what he ought not to do. He now knew that she 
 meant to treat the man politely, and as a person of no 
 importance, and that he would please her by also treating 
 him politely; and therefore when he was nearly opposite 
 Surrey, he bowed. 
 
 The latter immediately stopped but did not cross the 
 road. He intended to be very wary and prudent in such 
 matters. " Good day, doctor! " he cried cheerily. " I am 
 glad to see you looking so well." 
 
 " Thank you," said the doctor, and passed on. He felt 
 degraded, but he would have done the same thing again. 
 
 As he walked homeward a fresh trouble lay upon the 
 soul of the doctor. Ardis had told him just before he left 
 her that she had intended spending the next two days at 
 Rocklands, a country house about twenty miles distant. 
 This announcement caused an uneasiness in the doctor. 
 The son and heir of Rocklands was a dashing and hand- 
 some young fellow. Ardis would be two days with him. 
 Certain possibilities, when connected with Ardis, always 
 troubled the doctor when they first presented themselves 
 to him. 
 
 " How foolish it is," he said to himself, as he struck his 
 heavy cane on the ground, " What an ass ! what a dolt I 
 am ! This young man is nothing, and if he were anything, 
 what is that to me ? Why should I ache about such things ? 
 There is no reason, no sense, no propriety, no excuse for 
 it! It must be stopped!" 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 437 
 
 But the ache continued all the same. 
 
 The next day, in the pleasantest part of the afternoon, 
 there came riding to Bald Hill, Mr. Egbert Dalrymple. 
 He wore a fresh summer suit, and in his buttonhole a 
 flower, with a hue indicative of the approaching maturity 
 of the season. When he had dismounted and had come 
 to the house he was informed by the maid who came to 
 the door that Miss Claverden was not at home. 
 
 " So ! " exclaimed Mr. Dalrymple, knitting his brows, 
 and glancing darkly at his feet. Then suddenly elevating 
 his countenance, he asked: "Are you sure of that? Speak 
 the truth now!" 
 
 The mind of the maid was somewhat fired by this remark. 
 
 " Of course I'm shuah of it ! " she said. "She went away 
 right after breakfas' this mornin' and told me she wouldn't 
 be back for two days." 
 
 " Where did she go? " asked Mr. Dalrymple, folding his 
 arms as he spoke. 
 
 The woman had a notion, not altogether instinctive, 
 that this was none of the young man's business, and she 
 answered: "She's gone ever so far. She didn't give me 
 no address." 
 
 Dalrymple looked at her steadily. " I have a strong 
 belief," he said, " that she is in this house." 
 
 Now the fire in the soul of the maid blazed up. Seeing 
 Major Claverden approaching across the lawn, she ran 
 down to him and informed him, with as much respectful 
 deference as her angry soul allowed, that there was a gen- 
 tleman at the door who wanted to see Miss Ardis, and 
 who as much as said to her that she bore false witness 
 when she told him that Miss Ardis had gone away. 
 
 The major looked up at the house and recognized Dal- 
 rymple. " Did you tell him where Miss Ardis had gone? " 
 he asked. 
 
438 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 " No indeed, sir," replied the servant, " and I don't 
 reckon he'd 'a' b'lieved me, if I had." 
 
 " Very well," said the major, " I will see him." 
 
 The major slowly ascended the steps of the piazza, and 
 gravely but courteously, shook hands with the young man. 
 " Will you walk into my library, sir? " said he. 
 
 Egbert Dalrymple gazed past him at a solitary floating 
 cloud and asked: " Is your daughter within, sir? " 
 
 " Will you kindly walk into my library? " repeated the 
 major more emphatically than before. 
 
 Dalrymple raised his eyebrows, and then, without a 
 word, followed the major into the library. The latter 
 closed the door and invited his visitor to be seated. 
 When he had settled himself comfortably in his favorite 
 arm-chair, the major crossed his legs, fixed his eyes upon 
 Dalrymple, and remarked : " I believe, sir, that you have 
 been informed that my daughter is not at home." 
 
 " The servant so said," replied the other, " but I place 
 small credence in the words of such people." 
 
 " Sir," said the major, still speaking quietly and courte- 
 ously, although with an unusual lack of smoothness in his 
 tones, " the domestics in my house, when in discharge of 
 their duties, speak the truth. Were they discovered do- 
 ing otherwise they would not remain here an instant. That 
 is all that is necessary to be said upon that point. And 
 now, sir, I wish to ask you why you came here to-day to 
 see my daughter? She has informed me of what occurred 
 at your latest visit here, and has repeated to me the an- 
 swer she made to your overtures. Now, do you come here 
 merely as a neighbor to visit my house in an ordinary 
 social manner, or do you come to persist in a suit which 
 you have been positively and decidedly forbidden to 
 make?" 
 
 "I come," said Dalrymple, folding his arms and looking 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 439 
 
 straight before him, " because all that is in me, my soul 
 of souls, the faculties of my intellect, and the affections of 
 my heart; all indeed .that is truly me, belong to your 
 daughter. My part in life is to bring all this and to lay it 
 before her. Rebuffs, prohibitions, are but as the wind 
 that blows; storm-wind though it be. I bow. The tem- 
 pest passes; and I rise again. Therefore am I here." 
 
 Major Claverden uncrossed his legs; he sat up in his 
 chair, leaning slightly forward. His eyes were bright and 
 his voice, although stern, was not raised. "And therefore, 
 sir," said he, " I am going to place you in a position which 
 no one has held in my lifetime, nor during the lifetime of 
 my father, nor, to the best of my belief, during that of my 
 grandfather. I am going to forbid you to set foot upon 
 this estate! It grieves and mortifies me, sir, to say such 
 a thing to the son of a neighbor, a resident of this com- 
 munity. But never in my life did I imagine that any one 
 could appear before me, and declare with the shameless 
 effrontery which you have exhibited, his intention to con- 
 tinue, against all protests, the persecution and annoyance 
 of a lady. It is not to be borne, sir! You may go! " 
 
 And at these last words the major rose to his feet. 
 Egbert Dalrymple also stood up. 
 
 " So ! " he ejaculated. And then, with a bow, he turned 
 and left the room. 
 
 The major followed him to the hall door. Dalrymple 
 stepped out on the piazza, and then he stopped. Sud- 
 denly he turned around. 
 
 " Will you inform me, sir," he said, " at what house your 
 daughter is visiting? " 
 
 The major's face grew fiery red. A storm of indignation 
 rose within him, and angry words crowded to his lips ; but 
 before he could utter one of them a tall negro man with 
 a spade upon his shoulder appeared around a corner of 
 
440 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 the house. To quarrel at his own door, and to say some- 
 thing in the presence of his own servants of which he 
 might afterward feel ashamed, was impossible for Major 
 Claverden. 
 
 Stepping forward to the railing of the piazza he said, 
 in a voice which, though trembling, was tranquil compared 
 to that which had been on the point of bursting from 
 him : " Henry, put down that spade, and go with this young 
 man to the outer gate and close it behind him." 
 
 " Yaas, sah," said the negro, touching his hat. 
 
 Egbert Dalrymple, followed by Henry, rode slowly to 
 the outer gate. On his way he drew from his buttonhole 
 the flower which indicated the coming maturity of sum- 
 mer. He held it in his hand, and looked at it. 
 
 "Faded?" he murmured. "Hardly." And he re- 
 placed it in his buttonhole. 
 
 When he reached the gate he put his hand in his pocket, 
 gave the colored man a quarter of a dollar, and rode away. 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 441 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 ARDIS CLAVERDEN returned from her visit in a 
 somewhat disturbed state of mind. For two whole 
 evenings, and two whole days, the young fellow at Rock- 
 lands had unremittingly courted her. She was annoyed 
 and disappointed. At her former visits to this place noth- 
 ing of the kind had occurred. The young fellow and his 
 sisters had been pleasant companions for her; she had 
 liked them all. But now the sisters had been thrown into 
 the background. 
 
 The fact was that Ardis had forgotten that circumstances 
 had very much changed. It had long been understood 
 in the neighborhood better understood indeed than by 
 the persons concerned that she and Roger Dunworth 
 were intended for each other, and there was but little 
 local interference with what was known to be the most 
 cherished plan of the master of Bald Hill. But now Ardis 
 was free, and therefore other people were free. 
 
 The major did not inform his daughter of the Dalrymple 
 incident. He was very much disturbed and annoyed him- 
 self at having been obliged to speak to that young man in 
 the way in which he had spoken. It had been a neces- 
 sary thing to do, but as the master of a house famed for 
 long years for its genial hospitality, it had been very hard 
 for him. The man had been sent away, definitely and 
 decidedly, but the major shrank from telling his daughter 
 how he had been sent away. 
 
 The disquietude which Ardis's visit to Rocklands had 
 caused her did not last long, but it aroused in her an in- 
 
442 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 tense desire to do something, and to do it vigorously ; and 
 as painting was the work in which she delighted, she went 
 vigorously to painting. Hitherto. Ardis's taste had in- 
 clined to head and figure painting, and landscape, when it 
 appeared, was subordinated to the rest of the picture ; but 
 now her fancy turned its back upon the human form, and 
 she determined to begin a large work which should be 
 purely landscape. She decided upon a woodland scene, 
 and in a moment of very pardonable petulance she gave 
 her picture, even before she began it, the title : " Without 
 a Man." 
 
 She had had enough of men ; at least for the present. 
 Say what she might please about the presence of Surrey 
 in the neighborhood making no difference to her, it did 
 make a difference. She did not walk out nor ride as fre- 
 quently as she might have done for fear she should meet 
 him. Of course it was of no consequence if she did meet 
 him; but she did not wish to do so. She might think of 
 Mi. Dalrymple as having been definitely dismissed, but 
 the very thought of him annoyed her. To that lively 
 young man, Tom Prouter, she gave no consideration as a 
 suitor, but his visits had begun to be a little tiresome. 
 Fortunately, since Mr. Surrey had been his guest, he had 
 come but seldom. And, although the young fellow at 
 Rocklands was not worth considering at all, his attentions 
 had been so pointed and his manner so ardent that she 
 could not entirely forget him. 
 
 But she had one compensation. There should be no 
 man in her picture! Art was independent, and it could 
 take in and leave out whatever it pleased. 
 
 About a quarter of a mile from the Bald Hill house was 
 a piece of woodland, partly of evergreens, and partly of 
 chestnut and oak. A little stream ran through these 
 woods, and in it were many picturesque spots. One of 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 443 
 
 these nooks Ardis selected as the subject of her picture. 
 It was a little amphitheatre entirely surrounded by trees, 
 but with glimpses of vistas here and there, and every 
 chance for effects of sunlight through the Pantheon-like 
 opening above. 
 
 This pleasant spot was not only a charming subject for 
 a picture, but it also made an admirable studio ; and here, 
 every morning, Ardis came, accompanied by Uncle Shad 
 carrying her easel and painting materials ; the canvas she 
 never trusted to his hands. When she had established 
 herself the old man left her. It was a retired spot where 
 no one was likely to come ; and if she had needed assist- 
 ance it would not have been difficult to summon it. It 
 would have been easier, in fact, than she herself imagined 
 it, for the Major had ordered Uncle Shad, from the time 
 he left Miss Ardis in the woods, to the hour when he had 
 been told to come for her, to work in a part of the great 
 garden where he could easily hear his mistress, if she 
 wanted anything and should call. More than that, she had 
 always the company of Monaco, her father's old pointer. 
 
 Ardis was charmed with her studio, and if the fine 
 weather continued long enough, she determined to sketch, 
 and finish her picture in it. It should grow up and come 
 to maturity in the way where the trees, the vines, the 
 bi shes, and the delicate wood-flowers depicted on its can- 
 vas had grown up. 
 
 It happened to be a season of fine weather. The far- 
 mers did not like it because their crops would have been 
 the better for some rain ; but it suited Ardis admirably. 
 If she worked hard she could finish her picture before a 
 change of the moon, or whatever it was that regulated 
 the weather, should cover the fair blue sky with dull and 
 heavy clouds laden with rain. 
 
 Between the wood where Ardis was painting and the 
 
444 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 house grounds was a small stretch of open grassy fields ; 
 and one morning Mr. Surrey, standing in the high road, saw 
 Ardis and the dog, followed by the old negro carrying the 
 easel, the camp stool, and the box, cross this open space 
 and enter the woods. 
 
 It was the first time that Surrey had seen her during his 
 present visit. She was at a considerable distance, but his 
 eyes were sharp, and they dwelt with sparkling pleasure 
 upon the vision of this charming girl crossing the green 
 field. He could discern the profile of her face, shadowed 
 as it was by her hat. Every fold and flutter of her dress 
 seemed to him full of grace, and it was a joy to look 
 upon that lithe, erect figure, stepping so quickly and 
 lightly over the turf. 
 
 Jack Surrey was not in the habit of denying himself any 
 joy which he could get for nothing or for which he did not 
 have to pay too much. He did not deny himself this one. 
 He stood, leaning on the fence, and watched her. The 
 canvas in her hand, and the negro's burden, showed plainly 
 the object of her walk. 
 
 " She is on her way to those woods to sketch,' 7 said 
 Surrey to himself. " By George ! it is a vile extravagance ; 
 it is a waste of blissful influence for her to go and sketch 
 in those woods and nobody with her but that old negro ! 
 But the waste will have to be waste, I suppose. There 
 is nothing for me in that quarter." 
 
 He watched her until she passed out of sight among 
 the trees, and then he remained at the fence, his eyes still 
 upon the spot where she had disappeared. Presently he 
 saw the old negro come out of the woods and take his 
 way toward the house. 
 
 " Well," exclaimed Surrey, starting back from the fence, 
 "this is a pretty state of affairs! I don't call it exactly 
 safe! However, the dog is with her." 
 
ARDIS CLA VERDEN. 445 
 
 With his hands thrust into his pockets, as if he could 
 thus express the force of his emotions, Surrey strolled 
 along the roadside toward Prouter's house. Then he 
 , turned and strode back again to the place from which he 
 had seen Ardis. Whether he was waiting to see her 
 recross the open space, or whether he felt that by remain- 
 ing in that locality he was exercising a certain protection 
 over her, he could not have readily answered. Anyway it 
 pleased him as well to be there as anywhere else ; and, 
 lighting a cigar, he continued to walk up and down the 
 path by the roadside, sometimes making long stretches 
 and sometimes short ones. 
 
 Tom Prouter, who was on the top of a hill in the neigh- 
 borhood looking for a good site for a reservoir in case he 
 should conclude to pump water from the lowlands to a 
 height from which it could run in a pipe to his domain, 
 caught sight of Surrey, and stopped to look at him. At 
 first he wanted to see where he was going ; and then see- 
 ing him make a turn, he watched him again and saw him 
 make several turns. 
 
 " What's the matter with him? " he said to himself. " If 
 I wanted to walk I'd go somewhere! There are plenty 
 of places to go to; why don't he go to one? I asked him 
 to come up here with me, but he said he felt too lazy. And 
 well he might say so, for that's what I call beastly lazy ; 
 walking and going nowhere." 
 
 The thought now struck Prouter that it would be a fine 
 thing to take this opportunity of going over to see Miss 
 Claverden. The recent infrequency of his visits to Bald 
 Hill had been entirely owing to the fear that if Surrey 
 knew he intended to go there he would offer to accompany 
 him. To be sure, his guest had asserted that he had no 
 further designs \ipon the lady of that house ; but, for all 
 that, Prouter thought it would be very well not to sub- 
 
446 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 ject him to temptation. Now, here was a chance of get- 
 ting to Bald Hill without Surrey knowing anything about 
 it, and he hastened to avail himself of it. He ran along 
 the top of the hill, down the other side of it, around its 
 base, over a field, across the road, and so to the other side 
 of the Bald Hill house, which he approached by the val- 
 ley of the little stream which ran at the bottom of the lawn. 
 By taking this circuitous and cautiously-planned route 
 Prouter made it impossible for Surrey to see him, even if 
 the latter extended his walk some distance in this direction. 
 
 When he reached the house Prouter was told that Miss 
 Claverden was not at home, and that the major had gone 
 to Bolton. Whereupon he departed in a straight line for 
 his own house and berated the laborers in his vineyard. 
 
 When Surrey began to tire a little of walking, he climbed 
 a fence and sat down under a tree. Here he was not 
 noticeable, either from field or road. How many cigars 
 he smoked before he saw Uncle Shad go down to the 
 woods and soon after reappear carrying the parapherna- 
 lia, as he followed his mistress with the canvas, Surrey did 
 not know. He had been busily thinking. 
 
 From the time that Ardis again came into view to the 
 moment she disappeared from his sight Surrey never took 
 his eyes from her. Then he arose and wended his way 
 toward Prouter's house. 
 
 "That is a big canvas!" he thought as he walked. 
 "And the old darkey carried all her painting traps! She 
 is not sketching she is painting; and if it does not rain, 
 it is ten to one she will go there again to-morrow." 
 
 It did not rain the next day; and again Surrey saw 
 Ardis pass the open space. Again he saw her return home. 
 The third day was the same. And during that morning 
 Surrey had a discussion with himself. 
 
 "This is getting to be rather a heavy game," he said to 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 447 
 
 himself, " and Fate is coming it somewhat too strong on 
 me! I can stand about as much temptation as any man, 
 but this sort of thing is too much of the whirlpool order, 
 and I seem to be going round the outer edge of it. What 
 ought a man to do in such a case, anyway? Am I not 
 making an ass of myself by dawdling about here within 
 five minutes' walk of her, when it might be the easiest 
 thing, the most natural thing in the world, just to drop in 
 on her? It would be a perfect accident, of course; and 
 ten to one she would not mind it in the least. In fact, 
 she might like it! It is more than probable, indeed, that 
 she would be very glad to have me drop in on her at least 
 in that way. But, on the other hand, when I started down 
 here I swore off from everything of the kind. When a man 
 has fought a duel with a girl's lover and has broken off the 
 match, and has been squarely and positively discarded 
 himself, it is a little out of order for him to have anything 
 more than a bowing acquaintance with the lady in ques- 
 tion. I have vowed to myself that I would not go near 
 her. And now see what a pressure in the other direction 
 is brought upon me! I may have been a fool to come 
 here, but that point can be dropped: I am here." 
 
 Soon after this Ardis passed toward her house. The 
 face of the canvas she carried was turned toward Surrey ; 
 and even at this distance he could see that a woodland 
 scene was beginning to appear upon it. 
 
 " There will be a lot of work on that picture yet," he 
 said to himself. And he looked up to the sky. There 
 were no signs of coming bad weather. 
 
 W T hen Surrey reached home it was past luncheon time. 
 
 "Are you making up apiece for the papers?" asked 
 Prouter. " I knew a fellow who had to write one thing a 
 week for the Fligwich Courier; and, by George! he had 
 to slouch up and down the Parson's Mile for a day or two 
 
448 ARDIS CLAVEKDEN. 
 
 every week before he got the thing worked out in his 
 head! Is that your lay? " 
 
 " Can't say," said Surrey. " I don't know whether my 
 little job is to be a piece for the papers or not. But 
 I think that will be settled before long." 
 
 The next day Surrey was not the cool and self-possessed 
 man that he usually was. After he had seen Ardis pass 
 into the woods he did not get over the fence into the field, 
 but remained on the roadside. For some reason he seemed 
 greatly to prefer the roadside. 
 
 " Now," said he to himself, " I surely am a fool if I keep 
 up this sort of thing any longer! I can't go lounging 
 about here without people noticing it. Prouter may won- 
 der why I always choose one place to write my piece, and 
 if he comes here and sees her he will put in his oar; and 
 that will end the business. I have waited long enough. 
 If I do anything I ought to do it to-day. But whether to 
 do anything or not is the point! " 
 
 When Surrey had previously said to himself that it 
 would be an easy and natural thing to drop in upon Ardis 
 while painting in the woods, he had spoken understand- 
 ingly. He had a great fancy for walking about and ex- 
 ploring; and during his prolonged visit at Bald Hill he 
 had made himself thoroughly acquainted with the sur- 
 rounding country. 
 
 He knew all about this piece of woodland. He had 
 walked through it often. He knew the path that led to it 
 from the direction of the house, and he knew also that not 
 a quarter of a mile beyond the spot where he took his 
 observations a narrow roadway, now unused and greatly 
 overgrown, led from the high-road into the heart of the 
 woods. At the entrance to this road was a gate which 
 was nailed up, but between one of the gate posts and the 
 next fence post was a space, not wide enough to admit 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN, 449 
 
 the passage of a horse or cow, but through which an ordi- 
 nary man could pass with ease. 
 
 Frequently had Surrey, returning from a walk, slipped 
 through this gap and taken the shady woodland road 
 toward the house. Now, what was there to prevent him 
 from taking this route through the woods to-day? He did 
 not know exactly where Ardis was painting, but he could 
 not fail to get sight of her. He did not see why anybody 
 could object to his passing through those woods, nor why 
 anybody should imagine that he had had the least idea 
 that he should find an artist at work therein. Simple? 
 Why, nothing could be more simple and ordinary! If 
 her greeting should be cold, he could pass on. If she re- 
 ceived him pleasantly, he would stop. He would be gov- 
 erned entirely by her manner. 
 
 " By George ! " he said to himself. And then he stopped. 
 " But no. I will walk slowly toward that gap, and when I 
 get there I will positively decide." 
 
 Surrey started on his walk leisurely toward the point 
 where he was to make his decision ; and he had not gone 
 half the distance when he noticed a man coming down the 
 road and approaching him. The man was still at some 
 distance, but Surrey recognized him. It was Roger Dun- 
 worth. 
 
 Surrey was a little surprised to see Dunworth on foot, 
 but otherwise his only feeling was one of satisfaction. 
 He had wanted to speak with Dunworth and had hoped 
 that he might some time meet him on the road. He 
 wished to say to his late antagonist that, so far as he was 
 concerned, by-gones were by-gones; that he was really 
 sorry at the turn events had taken on account of the duel ; 
 and that he had come down here because he liked the 
 country and the people, and that he had no desire to inter- 
 fere with anybody's purposes or aims. On these points he 
 29 
 
450 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 intended to dilate more or less according to the spirit in 
 which Dunworth met him. It would be an important 
 step toward creating a friendly feeling in the neighbor- 
 hood if he were to come to a satisfactory understanding 
 with Dunworth. 
 
 To be sure, this was not the time he would have chosen 
 for the interview, but it would do very well. The deci- 
 sion which he was going to make when he arrived at the 
 gap could be postponed for a short time. 
 
 It was indeed an unusual thing for Roger Dunworth to 
 be seen afoot. He was a horseman by nature; and be- 
 ing also a busy man, he seldom wasted his time by walking 
 on the roads. But this morning he had been making some 
 measurements in one of his outlying fields, and when he 
 had finished he determined not to go back to the house, 
 but to walk to Bald Hill. He had been very busy mak- 
 ing plans and surveys of his farm, and inventories of his 
 stock .and other property. He intended to offer his place 
 for sale, and had reason to believe that he could easily 
 dispose of it. When this business should be completed it 
 was his purpose to buy in Georgia a large tract of land which 
 he had thoroughly examined in his trip through that region. 
 
 So far he had not spoken of his plans to any one, but 
 now that they were well perfected, he wished to make 
 them known to his old friend and the friend of the family, 
 Major Claverden. Of course this loyal Virginian would 
 scout the idea that it would be for the advantage of a 
 man to emigrate from this county to Georgia; but Dun- 
 worth was prepared for objections, and knew very well 
 that he should not be turned from his purpose. He 
 wished to explain the matter to the major before the lat- 
 ter heard about it from any one else; but not until this 
 morning had he been able to bring his mind to the point 
 of going to Bald Hill. 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 451 
 
 It would be very hard for him to go to the house in 
 which Ardis lived, and he was willing to postpone this 
 ordeal. as long as possible; but Major Claverden, as well 
 as Ardis, lived at Bald Hill, and Roger did not even con- 
 sider the possibility of making the radical change he con- 
 templated without seeing the major. Soul-harrowing 
 topics might be touched upon in the interview, but this 
 could not be helped. If possible he would avoid seeing 
 Ardis ; and he believed she would make it possible. 
 
 When Dunworth, striding rapidly along the road, raised 
 his eyes and beheld Surrey coming toward him, he, too, ex- 
 perienced a certain satisfaction. He had heard that 
 Surrey was visiting Prouter, and had thought that if he 
 happened to meet the man he would say to him that he 
 had had no intention of wounding him in the affair in which 
 they had been engaged, and that, indeed, he had not 
 known, until some time afterward, that Surrey had been 
 wounded. 
 
 But as Surrey came nearer there was something in the 
 expression of his countenance, something in the jaunty 
 manner of his walk, something in the man's demeanor 
 and appearance, which so grated upon the soul of Dun- 
 worth, and which brought up so forcibly the recollection 
 of_miserable moments, that a sudden chill ran through 
 him. He could not meet that man ; he could not speak 
 to him; at least not now on his way to Bald Hill. 
 
 He was on the point of turning back, but at that mo- 
 ment he reached the gap by the side of the old gate. 
 Without hesitation he turned and went through the opening. 
 This was a perfectly natural thing to do. Surrey need 
 not suppose that he had recognized him ; nor could any 
 one have reason to imagine that it had not been his original 
 intention to take this path through the woods. 
 
 Dunworth disappeared among the trees and the heavy 
 
452 
 
 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 undergrowth, and Surrey stopped as if he had been 
 shot. 
 
 "By the Lord Harry!" he exclaimed. "Here's a 
 pretty piece of business! Did he turn in there because 
 he saw me? Hell walk straight upon her! Straight to 
 her he is bound to go! Did I do that? Did the sight of 
 me turn him square around and send him into those 
 woods? " 
 
 For some minutes Surrey stood still by the roadside. 
 "Now am I well paid," he ejaculated, "for my stupid, 
 my asinine hesitation! It is of no use for me to go in 
 there now; and it is ten thousand to one that it will rain 
 to-morrow! " 
 
 With this Surrey jammed his hands into his pockets, 
 clinching his fists so that his nails nearly punctured the 
 flesh. Suddenly he took a resolution. He would go to 
 his old point of observation, and when he saw Dunworth 
 come out into the open field he would himself go into 
 those woods and find Ardis. Of what might happen he 
 took no thought. He considered only that after this 
 morning there might be no chance of finding her in those 
 woods. 
 
 With this determination he went to the spot from which 
 he could command the open space between the wood and 
 Bald Hill, and watched. 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 453 
 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 WHEN Roger Dunworth had suddenly turned aside 
 into the woods, his pace became slower. There 
 was reason for this, for the roadway was uneven, and, be- 
 sides, he was thinking in that undetermined way which 
 makes people walk slowly. His avoidance of Surrey had 
 been entirely a matter of impulse, and now he asked him- 
 self if this were right and manly. It was probable that 
 Surrey had recognized him, and might well suppose that 
 the animosity which occasioned the duel still continued 
 on Dunworth's side. This was not at all desired by Roger. 
 But he would not turn back now. He would go to Prou- 
 ter's house and see Surrey. That would be a straightfor- 
 ward and satisfactory thing to do. 
 
 Having come to this conclusion, Dunworth stepped on 
 a little more briskly; but when he had walked half through 
 this piece of woodland he suddenly stopped. The road- 
 way curved to the right in the direction of the Bald Hill 
 house, but there was a short pathway to the left, and hap- 
 pening to glance along this to an open space beyond, 
 Dunworth saw a woman's dress ; he saw a woman sitting 
 on a stool; he saw Ardis Claverden painting in the woods. 
 
 Her back was partly turned toward him and he could 
 see a portion of her side face. She was sitting in the 
 shade, and her hat was thrown upon the ground. Her 
 hair seemed softer and more abundant than he had ever 
 seen it before. She did not wear the long apron of the 
 studio, and her cool, fresh morning costume showed 
 charmingly against the leafy background. 
 
454 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 The woods were very still. Some patches of morning 
 sunlight lay upon the ground behind Ardis, and over these 
 moved gently the shadows of high-growing leaves and 
 twigs which caught the breeze. He stood and watched 
 every movement that she made. All was quiet and tran- 
 quil without, but a great sea began to roll in upon his soul ; 
 deeper and deeper it swelled ; brighter and stronger grew 
 its waves. Before him was Ardis Claverden, the love of 
 his life. 
 
 The sea rose higher and higher. Everything that had 
 been built by her or by him to shut it out was swept away 
 and carried out of sight. It bore Roger Dunworth on the 
 crest of its great waves. He could not resist its power; 
 he felt no desire to resist it. 
 
 Presently she leaned back, and with her brush in one 
 hand and her maul-stick in the other, she surveyed her 
 work. Now Roger could see the beautiful profile of her 
 face, those perfect outlines, that little mouth, the Tips just 
 parted by the interest she felt in the work she was doing, 
 that delicately-tinted cheek, so smooth and tender to the 
 touch as well he knew, that white throat above the blos- 
 som-colored ribbon oh, for one look into those dark eyes 
 now turned away from him! This woman was his love! 
 By her own confession she was his love I 
 
 Roger stood still no longer, but walked straightway 
 into the open space. Monaco, who had been sleeping in 
 the sunlight, arose with a little growl, which ceased when 
 he recognized a friend of the house. Ardis turned 
 quickly. The appearance of any one would have surprised 
 her; but now she was truly startled. 
 
 " Mr. Dunworth ! " she exclaimed, and there was in her 
 intonation a reproachful inquiry. Although her words did 
 not ask him why he came there, her manner did. 
 
 Roger took no notice of her words or manner. He 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 455 
 
 stepped near her and looked down into her face. 
 " Ardis," said he. 
 
 Now a flush came into that beautiful face, and in an 
 instant Ardis sprang to her feet. " Mr. Dunworth," she 
 said, " you have no right to speak to me or to look at me 
 in that way! " 
 
 " I have every right in the world," replied Roger. 
 
 Ardis now moved back a step or two. The flush left 
 her cheeks and temples and became a bright light in her 
 eyes. " Mr. Dunworth," she said, "you will oblige me by 
 leaving me. I wish to be here alone." 
 
 Roger did not move from where he had been standing. 
 His eyes were steadily fixed upon her. " I will not ex- 
 plain how I came here," he said. " It is not worth a word. 
 Being here, I shall speak to you. Without regard to any- 
 thing that I have done or anything that you have said, I 
 Avill tell you that I love you with a love that cannot be set 
 aside by anything that can come between earth and sky. 
 I know that you love me ; you have never told me that 
 you did not love me " 
 
 Ardis interrupted him. "Thank you," she said, speak- 
 ing quickly. " That is a noble advantage to take of the 
 frankness and honesty with which I spoke to you when 
 we parted! If you did not comprehend my meaning 
 then, I will tell you again that I will not hear the worcls 
 you have spoken from a man who does not trust me. And 
 now that you must understand me, will you go? " 
 
 " No," said Roger, " I will not go. Nothing you can 
 say of what I have done, or of your reasons for judging 
 me, can make me go. If you tell me that you do not 
 love me, I will go." 
 
 " Is this manly? " said Ardis. " I am not strong enough 
 to compel you to go ; I can only ask you to do so." 
 
 " There is nothing strong enough to compel me to go," 
 
456 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 replied Roger, " but the words which tell me that you do 
 not love me. Can you say those words? " 
 
 The flush came again into the cheeks of Ardis. She 
 made a step forward. " Roger Dunworth/' she said, " is 
 there nothing on earth that can make you leave me? Noth- 
 ing that can make you respect my wishes, my rights?" 
 
 " There is nothing," said Roger, " but the words which 
 tell me that you do not love me." 
 
 Ardis fixed her eyes upon him with a straightforward 
 gaze. " You have no right to ask me to say those words," 
 she said. 
 
 The sea in the soul of Roger Dunworth surged more 
 wildly. His breast heaved. A great light came into his 
 eyes. "Until you say them, I will never go! " he cried. 
 
 Ardis still looked at him steadily. " You will not go? " 
 she said. 
 
 "No," was his firm answer. 
 
 "Then stay! " said Ardis. 
 
 Half an hour afterward Jack Surrey, at his post of ob- 
 servation, saw two persons come out of the woods and 
 walk slowly across the open space to the house. One of 
 them was Ardis Claverden ; the other was Dunworth. In 
 one hand he carried her canvas, and both her hands were 
 clasped round his other arm ; she looked up into his face 
 and he looked down upon her; they knew not that any 
 human eye was upon them, nor did they care. They 
 walked on under the fair, blue sky, happier than all the 
 orld. 
 
 " By the Lord Harry! " said Surrey. And he took off 
 i.is hat, and wiped his brow. He stood and watched the 
 distant couple. "Did I do that?" he asked himself. 
 Then, after along gaze, he turned and got over the fence 
 into the road. There he stopped, and again addressed 
 himself. " Did the sight of me turn him into those woods? 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 457 
 
 I believe it did! I truly believe it did ! " He was almost 
 past the gap when he stopped and turned. A grim smile 
 showed itself under his moustache. " So much for that! " 
 he said, and leisurely walked toward Prouter's house. 
 
 The proprietor of the establishment was standing in 
 the open doorway clad in a white linen jacket, and placidly 
 smoking a pipe. "Hi!" he cried, as Surrey came near. 
 " Back early to-day! How does your piece come on? " 
 
 *' It is finished," said Surrey. 
 
 "Turn out all right?" asked Prouter. 
 
 " That depends," said Surrey. " Some people may 
 think it is all right, and others may have different opinions; 
 but I imagine it is about as near right as such things gen- 
 erally are." 
 
 " They never are right," said Prouter. " What you read 
 one day is knocked into a cocked hat by what comes 
 along next day. The whole lot is a beastly nuisance." 
 
 Surrey smiled and seated himself in a wooden armchair 
 which stood under a small sassafras tree near the house, 
 the only shade-giving vegetation on the estate. 
 
 " Do you know," said Prouter, suddenly changing the 
 subject to arboriculture, "that I have a mind to go right 
 to work and plant my double row of trees from the house 
 to the road? When it comes to that sort of "thing the 
 longer one waits the worse it is for him. You can build 
 a house a great deal faster than you can make trees grow, 
 and it stands to reason that you ought to give good odds 
 to the trees. I'll make those fellows come out of the 
 vineyard and dig the holes and plant the trees. By 
 George! I'll begin this afternoon! " 
 
 " Do you know," said Surrey, " that Roger Dunworth 
 is going to marry Miss Claverden? " 
 
 Tom Prouter stopped smoking. His mouth opened, and 
 his face turned redder. " Who told you that? " he shouted. 
 
458 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 " Nobody, 1 ' answered Surrey, " I speak from my own 
 knowledge. They are the most devotedly attached lovers 
 I ever saw at least in the open air. If you had seen 
 them, as I saw them to-day, walking across a field, you 
 would not have needed anyone to tell you that everything 
 is all right now between those two. Yes, sir, they are to 
 be married. There is no possible doubt of that.'' 
 
 Prouter now stepped out upon the very little porch in 
 front of his house. He threw his pipe upon the ground, 
 scattering sparks in every direction. He stamped his 
 foot, he stretched out his right arm, he shook his clenched 
 fist at Surrey. " I'll be hanged! " he exclaimed, " I'll be 
 doubly hanged if you don't ruin everything within ten 
 miles of you! You can't come into a place without mak- 
 ing the very grass seeds rot in the ground before you. 
 You're a blight! You're a plague! You are a curse- 
 creeping pestilence! " 
 
 Surrey took out a cigar and proceeded to light it. 
 " What's the matter now? " he said. 
 
 "Matter!" roared Prouter. "Anything but a stone- 
 blind horse-post would see what is the matter! Every 
 day since you have been here I have been intending to go 
 over to see Miss Claverden, but I didn't want you hound- 
 ing after 'me to Bald Hill, spoiling everything that you 
 touched or looked at ; and so I thought I'd keep away 
 from there until you had gone. I was getting on vastly 
 well with her till you came. And now, look at it! I am 
 too late! There is no use going there at all! " 
 
 Surrey laughed aloud. " Tom Prouter," he said, " don't 
 work yourself into a rage. Of course there is no use in 
 your going to Bald Hill, if Miss Claverden is your object, 
 and there never was, and there never could have been, 
 any use in it. If you were the only man east of the Rocky 
 Mountains she wouldn't marry you. And, what is more, 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 459 
 
 I don't believe she would marry any man, east or west of 
 the Rockies, if that man were not Roger Dunworth. I 
 have not been sure of it all along, but I am quite positive 
 now that the break between that worthy couple was not a 
 snap-short. They were bound to come together again; 
 and fellows like you and me had no better chances in that 
 quarter than a couple of Chinese laundrymen." 
 
 Prouter did not immediately answer, but stood looking 
 steadfastly at the other. " Do you believe you never had 
 any chance? " he presently said. 
 
 " Never a ghost of one," answered Surrey. 
 Prouter's face now began to assume its ordinary color. 
 " Now, really," said he, "you do believe that, do you? " 
 " Believe it? " said Surrey, " I am positively sure of it! " 
 Prouter came down the few steps of his porch, and picked 
 up the wooden pipe he had thrown from him. He looked 
 into its black depths for a moment; and then he turned 
 abruptly to Surrey. " Look here," said he, " let's put some 
 things in a bag, and go down in my trap to the lower end 
 of the county and find that nigger sailor who can cook." 
 " Good! " said Surrey. " I am your man! n 
 The next morning the two started for the lower end of 
 the county. When, after a devious journey, they arrived 
 at their destination, they found that the negro in question 
 had never been a sailor, and that he could not cook. 
 They also discovered that a year before he had gone to 
 Iowa with a party of negro emigrants. 
 
 On the evening of the day of their return, after a late 
 supper, Prouter was walking contemplatively up and down 
 the floor. " What are you going to do now? " he said to 
 Surrey. 
 
 " Do? " said the other. "Nothing in particular." 
 " I thought you'd be likely to want to go away from 
 here," said his host. 
 
460 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 " I have not the slightest idea in the world of going 
 away," said Surrey. " When I first came I felt that the 
 situation was a little awkward for me, but it is not in the 
 least so now. I intend to stay here, and be as happy as 
 I can. If you can keep me I should like it ; and we can 
 each throw in our money and make a pool for expenses. 
 But if you don't fancy that, I can go somewhere else in 
 the neighborhood. Now that this Bald Hill matter has 
 been straightened out I feel free to go where I please." 
 
 "Oh, you can stay here, if you like," said Prouter; 
 " that is, if I don't sell the beastly place. If I can't find 
 anybody to buy it, I'll tell you what I have a mind to do. 
 I am thinking of digging for petroleum on this place. I 
 don't know that there is a chance of finding any, but one 
 never knows about that sort of thing till be tries ; and it 
 will give those scoundrels in the vineyard something to 
 do. It's of no use for them to work among those grape 
 vines, and I have engaged them for a year. I should like 
 to see them dig a hole so deep that they could never get 
 out of it." 
 
 " I wouldn't throw up the vineyard like that," said Sur- 
 rey. " Something may come of it." 
 
 " Come of it ! " exclaimed Prouter, stopping suddenly 
 in his walk. " I'll tell you what might come of it ! If 
 those lazy beasts should take to working instead of sleep- 
 ing, and those stupid young vines should take to growing 
 and having grapes on them, and those grapes should be 
 like the grapes on that row of old vines on the top of the 
 illl, and wine should be made of the grapes, there'd be 
 nothing got out of the whole business but cramp-colic. 
 You have tasted those grapes. Now, really, you wouldn't 
 drink wine made from them, would you?" 
 
 " Not a drop of it," said Surrey. " Let's stick to whiskey 
 and water." 
 
 And Prouter, going to the closet, brought out the bottle. 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 461 
 
 CHAPTER XLVI. 
 
 T TELL you, sir," said Major Claverden, standing 
 1 with his back to the empty fireplace of his library, 
 pipe in hand, and a shining joy on his ruddy countenance, 
 " this is truly living ! Now I feel as if my life were a suc- 
 cess. Yes, sir, a success. I have had my disappoint- 
 ments and my losses. Disappointments and losses are 
 perhaps yet before me. But what matters that, sir? Not 
 a whit! I have had two great objects in life. One of 
 them may come to nothing. Let it be so ! The other is 
 accomplished. My daughter will marry the man of her 
 choice and of my choice; the man who, above all other 
 men, is worthy of her. Now tell me, sir, can there be for 
 a person of my age, for the father of a daughter like my 
 daughter, a greater earthly joy than this? " 
 
 Doctor Lester was seated in a leathern arm-chair, not 
 far from the major. As it was a fine moonlight evening 
 he had walked over to Bald Hill, and had just been in- 
 formed by the master of the house of the blessed event 
 which had taken place that morning ; the coming together 
 again of Ardis and Roger. The doctor, too, held a pipe 
 in his hand ; he had lighted it, but it was now entirely out. 
 He was evidently agitated, and for smoking purposes he 
 had no breath at command. Who could help being agi- 
 tated when told of such a happy event in a family of dear 
 friends? 
 
 "It is true," he said, "very true. Nothing could be 
 better than that." 
 
462 ARDIS CLAVERDEX. 
 
 This he said to the major, and this he also said to him- 
 self. What could possibly be better than that? 
 
 The doctor had not yet seen Ardis. Roger had taken 
 supper at Bald Hill, and he and Ardis had gone out for a 
 walk. 
 
 "As to my other object in life," continued the major 
 " at least the object of my recent years it is one on which 
 my heart has been truly set. In endeavoring to* produce 
 that to which I would be willing to give the name of 
 ' The Wine of Bald Hill,' I have most faithfully and ear- 
 nestly worked. Success in this undertaking in producing 
 a wine equal to that brought from the most celebrated vine- 
 yards of the Rhine would result in a gift to my family, 
 and to the people of this portion of the State, which would 
 be an honor to me, and an advantage and a glory to them. 
 Do you not agree with me, sir? " 
 
 " Most certainly," said the doctor. " Nothing could be 
 better." 
 
 " But," said the major, " I have strong reasons for be- 
 lieving that there never will be any wine of Bald Hill. 
 The vines upon which I have lately depended for my suc- 
 cess do not give satisfactory promise. They do not as 
 nearly approach the mark at which I am aiming as some 
 vines which several years ago I grubbed up and threw 
 away. If in the autumn the grapes which these present 
 vines produce and it will be their first bearing do not 
 resemble in appearance and flavor the fruit of the Johan- 
 nisburger vineyards, I shall absolutely and entirely relin- 
 quish my attempts in this direction. But what does it 
 matter, sir? My daughter will marry Roger Dunworth. 
 This is enough. I shall die content. Give me your hand, 
 sir. The next best thing to this great happiness itself is 
 the pleasure of speaking of it to a friend like you." 
 
 The doctor arose, and took the proffered hand. " Noth- 
 
'ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 463 
 
 ing could be better," he said. And then he bade his host 
 good-night. 
 
 "What!" cried the major. "Will you not wait and 
 congratulate Ardis? It is yet very early. Those lovers 
 will return presently, I am sure." 
 
 But, in spite of the urgent entreaties of his host, the 
 doctor persisted in his resolution to return. He was 
 somewhat tired, and he would come the next day, or very 
 soon, and congratulate Miss Ardis. As he shook the 
 major's hand in parting, he said: " I am glad to see you 
 so happy. And, truly, nothing could be better! " 
 
 All the way home and he took a cross country route 
 on which he would not be likely to meet anybody Doctor 
 Lester said to himself over and over again: "It is per- 
 fectly satisfactory. It is just what ought to have hap- 
 pened. It suits everybody. Nothing could be better." 
 And even after he had got home and had gone to bed 
 he continued to say these things to himself. He posi- 
 tively convinced himself over and over again that noth- 
 ing could be better. In fact he made this conviction so 
 strong that he did not sleep until the morning began to 
 break. 
 
 It was two days after this that Ardis, riding on the high 
 road, met Doctor Lester. She instantly brought Janet to 
 a stop. 
 
 "Doctor," she exclaimed! "you are a recreant friend! 
 I never should have supposed it possible that you would 
 have allowed all this time to pass without coming to talk 
 with me about what has happened ; a thing in which you 
 once took such a lively and generous interest. Have you 
 not been \yell? " 
 
 The doctor answered that he had not been well. He 
 had been intending to go to Bald Hill, and he was very 
 sorry that he had not gone. He would be there very soon. 
 
464 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 But it surely was not necessary for him to tell Miss Ardis 
 how happy he was in all that gave her happiness. 
 
 " Particularly in this one thing," she said. " I want 
 everybody to be happier than they ever were before be- 
 cause I am going to marry Roger. And, by-the-way, 
 doctor, why do you always walk nowadays? Is anything 
 the matter with Cream-o'-Tartar? " 
 
 "Oh, no, no,'' the doctor answered quickly, "there is 
 nothing at all the matter with him. I prefer to walk. It 
 does me good." 
 
 Ardis shook her head. " I am not sure of that," she 
 said. " I think you were better when you rode more." 
 
 And then, when she took her leave and was cantering 
 away, she said to herself: " I must not forget his slippers. 
 They must be finished by his birthday." 
 
 The work at the Dunworth farm and there was always 
 plenty of it now began to add to itself branches which 
 had not been seen there for many years. Everything in 
 the way of surveying and inventories was stopped, and 
 in the mind of the owner of the estate Northern Georgia 
 faded away until it became like an unnoticed speck on 
 the horizon. It had been settled that he and Ardis were 
 to marry at the end of August, and his house was to be 
 prepared for the reception of a mistress, the first it had 
 had since the death of his mother when he was a little boy. 
 
 Paper-hanging, painting, carpenter work, lawn-renovat- 
 ing, and all that sort of thing, made the place lively and 
 gave many subjects for evening conversation to Par- 
 chester, Skitt, and Cruppledean. Of late these three had 
 been thrown a good deal upon their own resources for 
 social pleasures. Since his return from the South, Dun 
 worth had for the larger part of the time been occupied 
 in his only spare moments with his schemes and plans for 
 a change of residence ; and since the day of his intrusion 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEtf. 465 
 
 into a woodland studio he had spent every evening at 
 Bald Hill. 
 
 Tom Prouter, too, had, in a measure, neglected his 
 compatriots. He had, it is true, occasionally looked in 
 upon them of a morning, but this was not very satisfac- 
 tory to these students of husbandry; especially when they 
 were at work at different places on the farm. They re- 
 membered with regret the jolly evenings they used to 
 have with Prouter before that tiresome fellow with a big 
 moustache came to stay with him. 
 
 "Now, really," said Skitt, one evening, as the three 
 Englishmen sat on the piazza with their pipes, " I can't 
 see any reason why Tom Prouter should stick so closely 
 to that man. Do you? " 
 
 " No, I don't," said Parchester. " I see plenty of 
 reasons why he should try to get away from him, but none 
 why he should stick to him. I never saw anything like 
 it! Tom is never really satisfied unless he has Surrey 
 somewhere in sight." 
 
 ".Do you know," said Cruppledean, knocking the ashes 
 out of his pipe, and preparing to refill it, " I've been think- 
 ing lately that fellows oughtn't to be too hard on a fool, 
 because it's about five to one he can't help it. If he gets 
 himself shunted on a side-track he's got to go where the 
 side-track goes.*' 
 
 " He ought not to get himself shunted," said Skitt. 
 " He ought to keep on the main line." 
 
 " It's beastly easy to talk," said Cruppledean, " and I 
 say let the fools go ! If they get smashed up it's their 
 affair! Other people can look out for themselves. I am 
 going to look out for myself." 
 
 " How do you propose to do that? " asked Parchester. 
 
 " I am going to leave here," said Cruppledean. " It is 
 all very well while we are independent, and can act like 
 3 
 
4 66 ARDIS CLA 
 
 men ; but when a petticoat gets into the house I say it is 
 time to go." 
 
 "It depends a good deal," said Parchester quickly, 
 " upon who wears the petticoat. 1 ' 
 
 " Now hear him! " cried Skitt. " I'll wager a sovereign 
 to a ha'penny that Parchester will want to stay here until 
 he has learned all that anybody can teach him about Vir- 
 ginia farming; and, after that, he will want to stay on and 
 learn how to disport himself as a husband and head of a 
 family." 
 
 " You mean by that," said Cruppledean, " that he has 
 been hit?" 
 
 " Hit ! " replied Skitt. " Of course he has ! She is like 
 a Gatling gun ; she hits all around." 
 
 " No she don't," said Cruppledean. " She didn't hit me." 
 
 " Look here ! " said Parchester turning upon his com- 
 panions. "You two may as well shut up on that sub- 
 ject. I am going to stay here because it always has suited 
 me, and because I think it will suit me a great deal better 
 when the house is kept in as good order as the farm is." 
 
 " Hear him ! " cried Skitt. " How necessary is the re- 
 fining influence of the sex to the happiness of the gentle- 
 man in cow-hide boots ! " 
 
 "I don't mind saying," said Parchester, "that I go in 
 for the sex. But, as I just now said, everything de- 
 pends upon who wears the petticoat. Now, if Miss Air- 
 penny were to be planted here as mistress of the house, I 
 vow I would leave." 
 
 "You don't mean to say," cried Cruppledean, "that 
 Dunworth ever had any idea of marrying Miss Airpenny? " 
 
 His companions burst out laughing. " Get away with 
 you!" cried Skitt. "No wonder you never were hit! 
 Your rhinoceros hide is so thick that you wouldn't know 
 it if a dozen balls struck you 1 " 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 467 
 
 CHAPTER XLVII. 
 
 IN these summer days Major Claverden, his daughter, 
 and Roger Dunworth considered themselves the three 
 happiest people in the world. They were happy because 
 of the positive good which had come to them, and happier 
 still because this good had come to them after they had 
 convinced themselves that it was forever shut away from 
 them. 
 
 Their friends were also happy ; and many came to tell 
 them so. It struck Jack Surrey that he should like to be 
 one of these. But, after giving the matter a good deal of 
 consideration, he concluded that if he had any idea what- 
 ever of settling in that part of the world, and wished to 
 make friends of his neighbors, it would be well to allow 
 the Claverdens and Dunworth the opportunity of making 
 the first approaches to a renewal of acquaintance with 
 him. They had done nothing of the kind so far ; even 
 the major, who once had seemed like an old friend to him, 
 now appeared to be unaware of his presence in the county. 
 Yes, he would wait and see what the changed conditions 
 of things would bring about in regard to himself. 
 
 In the mean time there could be no possible harm in 
 occasionally discussing the subject with mutual friends, 
 and, with this purpose in view he, one evening, walked up 
 to Heatheiley to call on Miss Norma Cranton. 
 
 The first thing he did was to demand of that young 
 lady a certain amount of gratitude for having obeyed her 
 wishes by keeping aloof from Miss Claverden and Dun- 
 worth. " I do not know," he said, " that my turning my 
 
468 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 back on them had anything to do with what has happened. 
 But I did turn my back; their engagement is renewed; 
 everybody is satisfied; and even if I played a negative 
 part in the matter I think I deserve some credit." 
 
 " Yes, negative credit," said Norma. 
 
 Surrey arose, walked to the window, took a look at the 
 back yard, and then returned to Norma. " Miss Cranton," 
 said he, " it strikes me that I am. really, a rather deserving 
 sort of person. I came down here to serve my own pur- 
 poses. Every man has a right to do that. I failed in 
 those purposes. In fact I am willing to admit that I made 
 a doleful mess of it. But all that being passed and gone, 
 I think some attention should be given to the steadfast 
 way in which I have kept out of the affair ever since." 
 
 " Well," said Norma, " that noble conduct may deserve 
 some sort of recognition. What sort would you like? " 
 
 " I will tell you," said Surrey, quickly, " exactly what 
 sort I would like. I would like that everybody in this 
 neighborhood should totally, absolutely, utterly, entirely, 
 and completely forget that I had ever anything to do with 
 the Dunworth-Claverden combination, and that they should 
 take me as I am; an honest-hearted man coming here 
 with the notion of making this region his home ; intend- 
 ing, it may be, to go into partnership with Prouter or 
 somebody else ; and desiring to be on good terms with the 
 surrounding population. Now that isn't much to ask in 
 the way of gratitude, is it? " 
 
 " No," said Norma. " I think I might manage to give 
 you that much myself. But, really, Mr. Surrey, you must 
 excuse me if I leave you for a few minutes. I see that a 
 hen out there with a late brood of chickens has broken 
 through the coop and she will lead her young family into 
 all sorts of dangers. I must go and drive her back and 
 get somebody to mend the coop." 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEK. 469 
 
 " Let me mend the coop ! " cried Jack Surrey. 
 
 " You ! " said Norma, with a laugh. " What does a city 
 man know about hen coops? " 
 
 " I should be ashamed to come from a city," said Sur- 
 rey, "where coop mending was not thoroughly taught." 
 
 In ten minutes after that Surrey, with hammer and 
 nails which Norma had brought to him, had fastened the 
 loose bars of the coop ; and, together, he and Norma had 
 slowly and warily driven the hen and her tender brood 
 back to their quarters. 
 
 Ardis continued to work on her picture, and when it 
 was finished, and not until then, she showed it to Roger, 
 lie was not a bad judge of pictures. 
 
 " I believe," he said, " that is the very best thing you 
 have ever done." 
 
 " I am somewhat of that opinion myself," said she. "At 
 any rate I am better satisfied with it than I generally am 
 with my work. But there is something very odd about 
 this picture. It is exactly the opposite of what it was in- 
 tended to be. I had fixed upon a title for it. It was to 
 be called : ' Without a Man.' But, as a man, without in- 
 vitation or permission, forced himself in upon this lovely 
 scene, I have let him stay and he has altered its whole 
 purport. How do you like the figure? " 
 
 Roger steadfastly observed the man in the landscape. 
 " I do not know," he said, " how I appear to the world, 
 but I know very well how the world would appear to me 
 if I had not appeared in that scene." 
 
 In spite of the busy condition of affairs at his farm 
 Roger Dunworth found time to take frequent rides with 
 Ardis. As they were cantering along an oak-shad<3wed 
 road one pleasant afternoon they met Bonetti, also rid- 
 ing. Ardis instantly reined up Janet and the others also 
 stopped. 
 
470 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 " Mr. Bonetti ! " exclaimed Ardis. " I am so glad to 
 see dear old Cream-o'-Tartar again! Why doesn't the 
 doctor ride him now? Has he lent him to you?" 
 
 "The doctor doesn't happen to own him at present," 
 said Bonetti. " He belongs, in fact, to me." 
 
 "To you?" exclaimed Ardis. 
 
 " Yes," said Bonetti, " I got him in trade from a man 
 on the other side of Bolton." 
 
 "And how did the man beyond Bolton happen to have 
 him? " asked Ardis, in a tone of excited interest. 
 
 " The doctor sold the horse to him some time ago. Let 
 me see. It was just before he made that trip down to 
 Georgia. I reckon he was a little short of cash about that 
 time. It wasn't a bad piece of business," continued 
 Bonetti. " The doctor got his money, and the man, hav- 
 ing got the horse cheap, could afford to let me have him 
 on an easy trade days' work being a good part of it 
 and now I've got the horse. I really needed a horse, and 
 it isn't every day you can make such a bargain for one." 
 
 " Mr. Bonetti," said Ardis after a moment's pause, " will 
 you come to Bald Hill to-night? I want to see you on 
 business.' 1 
 
 "Certainly, certainly, Miss Ardis," said Bonetti, and 
 then he took his leave. 
 
 " For the life of me," said Roger, as the two rode on, 
 " I do not see how Doctor Lester ever brought himself to 
 the point of selling that horse ! For years the two have 
 been the most constant friends. No matter how much 
 he needed money I should have supposed he would have 
 sold anything he possessed rather than old Cream-o'- 
 Tartar!" 
 
 "Perhaps he had nothing else to sell," said Ardis. And 
 there she let the subject drop. 
 
 Ardis was perfectly trustworthy when a friend told her 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 471 
 
 a secret ; she was equally trustworthy when she discov- 
 ered the secret of a friend. She had not discovered the 
 doctor's most important secret ; but she had discovered that 
 he had sold his horse to enable him to accompany her to 
 Georgia. 
 
 The slippers for the doctor were never finished; but 
 when his birthday arrived he received as a present his 
 good old Cream-o'-Tartar. 
 
472 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVIII. 
 
 ONE afternoon, about this time, Jack Surrey visited 
 Heatherley. He had been there a great deal of 
 late, on the general principle that, after Bald Hill, it was 
 the pleasantest house in the neighborhood to visit. But 
 now he went with a definite object. He was going to 
 offer himself in marriage to Norma Cranton. 
 
 For some time he had had this matter in his mind, and 
 he had lately convinced himself, with very little trouble, 
 that to marry Miss Cranton would be a very good thing 
 for him to do. Norma, in some respects, was an odd kind 
 of young woman, but this oddity interested him. She 
 was lively and good-humored, and had plenty of sound, 
 practical sense. More than that, she was good-looking. 
 Jack Surrey had not noticed that on his first acquaintance 
 with her, but it had gradually dawned upon him. Her 
 family connections and her domestic position suited him 
 very well ; and he thought, with considerable satisfaction, 
 that a marriage with her would be a direct and immediate 
 advantage to his own social position. At present this 
 was, of course, unsatisfactory. A good many people, es- 
 pecially the Bald Hill people, did not appear to recognize 
 the fact that he was residing in their midst ; and as such 
 a fact hitherto had been very generally recognized by 
 people in whose midst he happened to be, the change ap- 
 peared to him not only disadvantageous but disagreeable. 
 As the son-in-law of the Cranton family, or even its pro- 
 spective son-in-law, he might expect to be received every- 
 where. 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 473 
 
 As Jack walked briskly toward Heatherley he was in 
 very good spirits. He wore a light summer suit and a 
 straw hat ; and these became him, and he knew it. He 
 was going to do a pleasant thing, and that pleased him. 
 He had no notion that there could be any other issue 
 to the business in hand than that he considered desirable. 
 The love affair immediately preceding this one had indeed 
 >een full of difficulties; but that there should be any 
 difficulties in the present case did not even occur to him. 
 
 When he reached the house he found there a party of 
 aunts and cousins who had come to spend the day. 
 Ncrma was in her glory. With the most hospitable in- 
 tentions and with an unremitting flow of lively speech she 
 was making her guests happy in body and mind. 
 
 Mr. Surrey was cordially welcomed, and presented to 
 the company, on whom he made a very favorable impres- 
 sion. He was so bright and lively, and became acquainted 
 with every one so easily and quickly, that there was a 
 general expression of disapprobation when, after half an 
 hour's visit, he rose to go. He declined the most press- 
 ing invitations to stay to dinner ; but when he had taken 
 his leave and had gone into the hall, he turned back to 
 the parlor door and asked Miss Cranton if he might speak 
 with her a moment. 
 
 "Certainly," said Norma; and as soon as she could 
 finish what she was saying to her cousin, she followed him 
 to the piazza. 
 
 " Now," said she to herself as she went out, " if he has 
 come for advice about putting up fruit or vegetables I 
 shall tell him that he and Mr. Prouter would better drop 
 hat thing at once. Men can't do that sort of housekeep- 
 ing; they'd lose every cent they put in sugar and spices. 
 Well, Mr. Surrey, what is it?" 
 
 " Miss Cranton," said Surrey, speaking in a low voice, 
 
474 ARDIS Cl.AVERDEN*. 
 
 " I came here to-day to tell you that I love you devotedly, 
 and to ask to you to marry me." 
 
 If one of the oaks on the lawn had suddenly raised 
 itself on the tips of its roots, and turned a summersault 
 before her, Norma could not have been more thoroughly 
 astounded. Her eyes opened to the widest, she held 
 her breath. 
 
 " Now, not one word of reply, Miss Cranton, I beg of 
 you," said Surrey. " I wish you to have time to think of 
 what I have said. I will come to-morrow morning to hear 
 your answer. Good-by." 
 
 Jack Surrey went away in a more cheerful mood than 
 that in which he had come. " That is good business ! " 
 he said to himself. " I put in that shot sharp and deep. 
 There was no dodging it, no warding it off. It was not 
 the way I intended to do it, but I am not sure it was not 
 better than any other way." 
 
 "Where are you going?" said Prouter to Surrey the 
 next morning. " Really, it looks to me as if you were 
 always going off by yourself, nowadays." 
 
 Surrey smiled. " The fact is," said he, " I have a little 
 piece of business to attend to this morning. But after I 
 get through with that I am at your service to do anything 
 you like. What do you say to a coon hunt to-night? 
 You have been promising me one ever since I have been 
 here." 
 
 Prouter 1 s eyes sparkled. "By George!" he cried, 
 "we'll do it! Do you want the trap? " 
 
 " No, thank you," said Surrey, " I can easily walk where 
 I am going." 
 
 "All right!" cried Prouter. "I'll harness up this min- 
 ute, and go round the country and get together all the 
 coon dogs I can find. I'll bring them home in the dog 
 cart, and have them ready for to night." 
 
ARDIS CLAVE RDEN. 475 
 
 Surrey laughed. " I don't envy you your drive, with 
 half a dozen curs, all strangers to each other, in the cart 
 with you. But every man to his taste. Good luck to 
 you! " And he left the house. 
 
 " Look here! " cried Prouter, suddenly springing to the 
 door. "Are you thinking of investing in land? " 
 
 Surrey stopped. " I really can't say that that is what I 
 am about to do," he answered. 
 
 " Very good," said Prouter. " Don't you do anything 
 of that kind until you have had a talk with me. I may 
 want to sell this shanty and colic-patch." 
 
 " I'll remember you," said Surrey; and he merrily went 
 his way. 
 
 Norma Cranton did not immediately present herself in 
 the parlor where Surrey awaited her ; and when at last 
 she appeared she carried a thin book in her hand, and on 
 her face was an expression which seemed compounded of 
 severity of moral principle, and an anxiousness resembling 
 that frequently occasioned by jelly making. She did not 
 appear to notice the hand which Surrey held out to her, 
 and sat down in a chair near the door. Surrey stepped 
 forward, gently closed the door, and seated himself near 
 her. 
 
 " Miss Cranton," he said, " I have come to ask for an 
 answer to what I said to you yesterday. I have come, 
 too, to say a great deal more than I had an opportunity 
 to say in those few moments. I have come to implore 
 you to be my wife; to accept the warm, earnest love 
 of " 
 
 C 'A man who has had a good deal of practice in that 
 sort of thing," said Norma, who under no circumstances 
 restrained herself from her habit of finishing people's 
 sentences for them. " But before you go any further, 
 Mr. Surrey," she said, handing him the book which she 
 
476 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 opened at the pages between which her forefinger had 
 been inserted, " I should like you to read that line." And 
 she pointed to it. 
 
 "Poems?"' said Surrey. 
 
 "Yes, poems," answered Norma. Surrey read: 
 
 " Once only Love, can Love's sweet song be sung." 
 
 He let the book drop on his knee and looked at her. 
 " Do you know," said he, " that I think that is most un- 
 mitigated bosh!" 
 
 "I have a very different opinion," said Norma. "I 
 think it is truth; the eternal truth of ages." 
 
 "It is eternal stuff and nonsense," said Surrey. "I 
 know very well that this refers to my having been married 
 before." 
 
 " You cannot have been married before," said Norma, 
 " unless you marry again." 
 
 " That is what I want to do," said Surrey. 
 
 " It is what you ought not to think of," said she. 
 
 "My dear young lady," exclaimed Surrey, "I beg that 
 you will banish that most perverting idea from your mind ! 
 It is true, I loved ; I married. My wife died years ago. 
 Again I loved." 
 
 " Yes," said Norma. "And that time Miss Claverden." 
 
 "I declare," said Surrey, "this is too bad! Do you 
 intend to go back and probe up everything I have done 
 in my whole life? " 
 
 " I would do so if I could," replied Norma. " I would 
 mention the name of every woman you have been in love 
 with." 
 
 " There are no more," said Surrey. " You have men- 
 tioned them all except yourself. Now I am perfectly 
 willing to admit that I was in love with Miss Claverden. 
 She declined to return my affection; and there was an 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEiV. 477 
 
 end of it. My heart became perfectly free. I turned to 
 you." 
 
 Norma closed the book, which he had handed back to 
 her. "I have no suitable words," she said, "in which to 
 express my dislike of that sort of grasshopper affection 
 which skips from here to there whenever it pleases." 
 
 " Mine is not that kind," said Surrey, " and if it skips 
 at alt it skips from there to here. And here it shall stay, 
 I vow, as long as you allow it ! " 
 
 " I have never allowed it at all," said Norma. 
 
 Surrey made no answer to this remark. He gazed 
 steadfastly at her. " Miss Cranton," he exclaimed, " that 
 once only business is all wrong. But if you believe in it, let 
 me love you once only once for all now and forever! " 
 
 At this moment there was a quick step on the piazza 
 outside, and some one looked in through an open French 
 window. It was Tom Prouter. 
 
 " Miss Cranton," he cried, " do you know if there are any 
 coon dogs on this place? " And then perceiving Surrey, 
 who had hastily pushed back his chair, he exclaimed in a 
 vexed tone: "Did you come here after them? Now, 
 really, it wasn't any use. You can't lead that sort of dog 
 with a string or a chain. You've got to fetch them in a 
 cart. I told you I'd attend to it." 
 
 Norma arose, very red in the face, but this was not 
 noticed by Prouter, whose attention was now given to 
 Surrey. " I don't know, Mr. Prouter," she said. " I will 
 go and see if one of the men is about the house." 
 
 When she had left the room, Surrey turned to Prouter. 
 "Do you know what you have done?" said he. "You 
 have interrupted me at a most critical moment. I was 
 proposing marriage to Miss Cranton." 
 
 Tom Prouter gave vent to a long ejaculation. " Do 
 you call that fair and square? " he said. 
 
478 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 " Of course it is," said Surrey. " What is the matter 
 with it?" 
 
 "I like that, you know!" said Prouter. "You seem 
 to have forgotten what you said to me this morning. She 
 wouldn't be willing to come to my place to live." 
 
 "Look here, Tom Prouter," said Surrey, hurriedly, 
 " there is no time for any of that talk. This is my busi- 
 ness, and it will not interfere in the least with yours. She 
 may be back any minute, and I want you to get away as 
 fast as you can. Now you go down to the barn and wait 
 there until somebody comes to talk to you about the dogs ; 
 and don't come back to the house till I give you the word." 
 
 "How long do you suppose it will take you?" asked 
 Prouter. 
 
 "Get away!" said Surrey. "I can't put a time and 
 limit to that sort of thing. Trot now! Quick!" 
 
 Left to himself in the parlor, Surrey walked up and 
 down the floor for a few minutes, but Norma did not re- 
 turn. Then he went out on the piazza, and tramped up 
 and down there for awhile. This was certainly very an- 
 noying. Of all the moments for a man to come in and 
 inquire about coon dogs! He went down on the grass 
 and walked nearly around the house looking up at the 
 windows. But he saw no Norma. Returning to the 
 front he ascended the steps of the piazza, and at the top 
 he saw a bare-legged colored girl with a broom. She stood 
 still and looked at him. She had never seen him before, 
 and supposed that he had just arrived at the house. 
 
 "Where is Miss Cranton?" asked Surrey. 
 
 " Miss Norma? " said the girl. " Dunno. I reckon she 
 up-stairs." 
 
 " Well go up and tell her tell her a man wants to see 
 her." Surrey perceived that he was a stranger to the 
 girl, and thought this message politic. 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 479 
 
 The girl departed and soon returned. " Miss Norma 
 say she can't come down jus' now. Ef you'll tell me what 
 you want I reckon she'd send you some sort o' word." 
 
 "What is she so busy about?" asked Surrey. 
 
 " Dunno 'zactly," answered the girl. " Reckon she got 
 a piece o' glass in her eye." 
 
 " Glass in her eye? " exclaimed Surrey. 
 
 " Well, I s'pects it's glass," said the girl, " or p'raps it's 
 a bit o' oat chaff, or a piece o' yarn. Anyway she swob- 
 bin' it like everything." 
 
 " Well, you go up and tell her," said Surrey, " that I 
 can't wait and I can't send any message. I want her/' 
 
 So the black messenger went up-stairs and informed 
 Norma that the man down-stairs wanted her. " I reckon 
 you better go down, an' sen' him off, Miss Norma," said 
 the girl, " an' when you come back I'll help you git dat 
 trash outer you eye. He look like one ob dem pussons 
 dat neber will go 'way till dey see de mistis." 
 
 A few minutes afterward the girl informed the impa- 
 tient Surrey that Miss Norma would be down presently. 
 
 Surrey went into the parlor and immediately closed the 
 window opening upon the piazza, causing the girl to im- 
 agine that he was very much afraid of draughts. He 
 walked up and down until the piazza had been swept and 
 the sweeper had departed, very much to his relief; and, 
 soon afterward, Norma entered the parlor, closing the 
 door behind her. 
 
 If Surrey had not been told that she had been swab- 
 bing her face he would have known it from her appear- 
 ance. Her color was more variegated than usual, and 
 she had a troubled, uneasy expression, but without hesita- 
 tion she advanced to him and spoke. Under any circum- 
 stances it was contrary to her nature to hesitate when she 
 had anything to say. 
 
480 ARDIS CLA VERDEN. 
 
 "Mr. Surrey," said she, "you sent me word that you 
 wanted me, and I have come to tell you that there are 
 other reasons why you cannot have me. 1 ' 
 
 "Other reasons! What are they?" exclaimed Surrey, 
 quickly. 
 
 " In the first place I can never leave my home. This 
 home is part of. me, and I am part of it. I could not 
 tear myself from it nor could I tear myself from my 
 father, nor from my family. In the second place it is 
 plain you do not know me. I am a person accustomed 
 to direct, to control. Everything in this house is managed 
 by me. I like that. I cannot change my nature. It 
 would be impossible for me to subject myself to the will 
 of another. I cannot give up my independence." 
 
 "And these are your reasons ! " exclaimed Surrey. 
 
 " Yes," said Norma. 
 
 Standing and looking down upon her, Jack Surrey felt 
 that his liking for Norma had never been greater than at 
 this moment. His impulse was to stop discussing the 
 question, and to take her in his arms. But he restrained 
 himself. He knew that if he lost his head he might lose 
 the woman. 
 
 "My dear child," he exclaimed, "your reasons I blow 
 to the winds! Be mine, and you need never leave this 
 home unless you wish to. You shall always be its mis- 
 tress, as you have been. You shall still care for your 
 father and your family; and, better than ever, for I will 
 help you. Nothing shall be changed except that I shall 
 be with you, heart and soul, in everything." 
 
 She raised her eyes to him, but did not interrupt. 
 
 "And as to your management of affairs here, my precious 
 Norma," he exclaimed, advancing a step nearer to her, 
 "you should not have imagined that I could be so cruel, 
 so blind to the interest of everybody as to even try to 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 481 
 
 change that! Oh no, my dear love, my darling. Your 
 hand shall ever be upon the helm. You it shall be who 
 shall give the word of command. You shall order the 
 sails flung to the winds, or furled from the storm. And 
 you shall pipe all hands to holystone the deck ; to board 
 the enemy, or to muster aft for grog.' 1 
 
 Norma raised her eyes again, and slightly smiled. 
 
 "Now all your reasons have vanished !" cried Surrey. 
 "You are mine!" 
 
 He knew there was no further need for cautiousness, 
 and he took' her in his arms and gave her, with hearty 
 earnestness, her first kiss from a lover. He was about to 
 repeat the pleasing performance when she gently drew 
 herself away. 
 
 " * Once only, Love,' she said. " Father is coming." 
 
482 ARDIS CLAVERDEX. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIX. 
 
 r PHE engagement of Norma Cranton and Mr. Surrey 
 1 surprised everybody. Most people disapproved of it, 
 because as Norma Cranton had given her friends and 
 neighbors reason to suppose that she did not intend to 
 marry, this change of purpose was looked upon as a breach 
 of faith ; and as for Surrey, he was probably an adven- 
 turer. If she wanted a husband, it would have been 
 much better for her to have taken some one in her own 
 county who was known to herself and to her family. 
 
 But her family were very well satisfied. When Mr. 
 Cranton found that Surrey was a man who could give a 
 good account of himself; and, above all, that he was will- 
 ing to come there and live with them and be one of them, ' 
 he gave his full consent. If Norma must marry, this was 
 the kind of husband she ought to have. 
 
 Ardis, when she was informed of the engagement and 
 Norma came to tell of it on the afternoon of the day on 
 which it took place was amazed and grieved. Doubts 
 and fears rushed upon her mind; and her uppermost feel- 
 ing for her friend was that of pity. 
 
 But when Norma with sparkling eyes and glowing cheeks 
 had told her tale ; had told how for some time she had 
 had a drawing toward Jack ; and how the difficulties which 
 she thought in the way had all been blown to the wind ; 
 and what an honest, free-hearted fellow he was when one 
 came to truly know him ; and how they were to be married 
 on Tuesday, the seventeenth of the present month, and 
 then to go to Old Point Comfort for a fortnight, because 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 483 
 
 that was so near that if anything happened at home she 
 could be easily summoned ; and that she honestly could 
 say she was never so truly happy in all her days, Ardis 
 breathed not one word of doubt, or fear, or pity. Norma 
 was happy, and to her happiness Ardis gave her warmest 
 and most loving sympathy. 
 
 " But there is one thing," she said, "which I do not un- 
 derstand at all. Tuesday, the seventeenth, is only two 
 weeks from to-day. Why do you plan to be married so 
 soon? You are wonderfully prompt in planning, anyway. 
 Did Mr. Surrey name the day in his proposition? " 
 
 " No, he did not," said Norma. " I had as much to do 
 with fixing the day as he had. The affair may look a 
 little hasty; but Jack is like me. When a thing is to be 
 done, he thinks the way to do it is to do it, and then it 
 is done. I am to be married at home, without any stir, 
 in a gray silk travelling dress, and that is all I shall have 
 made at present. It will be a comfort to have it all 
 over, especially as there is nobody but me to attend to 
 the housekeeping; and I certainly ought to be back be- 
 fore the cucumbers are too big for pickling." 
 
 Ardis leaned back in her chair and laughed. " My dear 
 child," she cried, "why didn't you plant gherkins, and then 
 you might have made your wedding trip ever so much 
 longer. They never grow big." 
 
 " Gherkins ! " cried Norma. " I never plant gherkins ! 
 They can't get bigger than your finger, and how are you 
 to know whether they are young and tender, or old and 
 tough ? But when regular cucumbers are little they are 
 bound to be young. They are like human beings-; a baby 
 is a baby, and you can't make any mistake about it. But 
 gherkins are like imps or dwarfs; little enough to be sure, 
 but they may be as old as the hills." 
 
 And so it was that on Tuesday, the seventeenth day of 
 
484 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 the month, John Edward Surrey and Norma Witherspoon 
 Cranton were married at Heatherley. with no one present 
 but the family and a few near friends; that they went to 
 Old Point Comfort; that after a merry fortnight there 
 with the world and the sea, they returned to the quiet of 
 Heatherley, and began their united existence. 
 
 And the honest-hearted Norma truly believed that the 
 alacrity and promptness which characterized their matri- 
 monial proceedings was due to her habits of prompt ac- 
 tion. Never for a moment did she imagine that she was 
 now a happy married woman because Jack Surrey was a 
 man who, if he had anything to do, went immediately to 
 work and did it. 
 
 " Everything is arranged perfectly,'' she said to Ardis on 
 her return. " We settled it while we were away. I am 
 to manage everything in our establishment just as I have 
 been used to do ; father is to do exactly as he pleases, 
 and the others are to go on in the old ways ; but Jack is to 
 attend to all the buying and selling. Buying and selling 
 have always been weak points in our family. We always 
 sold when things were very cheap, and bought when they 
 were very dear. Jack is going to change all that. I have 
 no doubt that we shall be thousands of dollars richer." 
 
 The early days of August came, rich, warm, and fruity. 
 
 Then it was that Roger and Ardis were married. This 
 wedding, too, took place in the family mansion of the 
 bride ; but it did not at all resemble the quiet ceremony 
 at Heatherley. From all the surrounding country, and 
 from cities afar, came wedding guests to Bald Hill. This 
 was the grand culminating glory which had come to 
 shed its refulgent light upon the life of Major Claverden; 
 and he desired that all the world at least all his world 
 should see that light ; should bask and revel in it. 
 
 Not only invited guests, but negro men, women, and 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 485 
 
 children with shining teeth and glittering eyes, came from 
 all surrounding parts to lend a hand on this great occa- 
 sion. To bask and revel in the effulgent light of a wed- 
 ding at Bald Hill was a joy to them which would stand 
 out boldly in the experience of a lifetime. 
 
 Two little darkies to a stick of wood for the great 
 kitchen fire ; three dancing colored girls to a pail of water ; 
 two women to pick the feathers from one chicken ; three 
 stout fellows to groom a horse, and a troop of between 
 twenty or thirty men, women, and children to bring up 
 watermelons from the distant patch, was about the pro- 
 portion of laborers to labor in these happy days of prepa- 
 ration. Uncle Shad nearly broke himself down endeavor- 
 ing to find them all something to do. 
 
 In the old mansion there was a rare scene when the 
 beautiful daughter of the house walked through the parted 
 crowd of wedding guests ; and, still mistress of all hearts, 
 gave herself away to one. 
 
 When the ceremony was over, the major stepped to the 
 front and took command of the merrymaking. All made 
 merry, but none made merrier than Jack Surrey. The oc- 
 casion suited him perfectly. For the time he became, 
 heart and soul, a Virginia gentleman of the olden time, 
 and there were moments when it might have been diffi- 
 cult to determine whether it was he or Major Claverden 
 who was the genial, glowing host. 
 
 When the last cork had been drawn at the wedding 
 supper, when the last toast had been drunk, and the last 
 speech made ; when the last kiss had been given, and the 
 last happy tear had been shed, Roger and Ardis drove 
 away under the bright stars on their wedding journey to 
 the North. 
 
486 ARDIS CLAVERDEX. 
 
 CHAPTER L. 
 
 MR. EGBERT DALRYMPLE did not attend the 
 wedding at Bald Hill. Shortly after his conversa- 
 tion with Major Claverden, in which the latter invited him 
 to visit his house no more, he had gone away to stay away 
 until it should please him to come back. During such 
 absences it was his usual custom to go from place to 
 place without giving notice to any one. 
 
 His family had grown accustomed to this and looked 
 upon it as an eccentricity of genius. That Egbert was a 
 genius not one of them doubted. In many respects this 
 was a comforting conviction, for as it had always been im- 
 possible to induce him to act like other people, they satis- 
 fied their consciences in giving up the attempt by the 
 reflection that there was a reason for his peculiarities. 
 Genius they considered a very good reason. 
 
 The son of the house disturbed himself not at all about 
 the opinions of the family, or the opinions of other people. 
 In action he was absolutely independent. What he chose 
 to do he did; and this might be said to be the rule of his 
 life, if it had been compatible with his nature to make 
 rules. 
 
 He had gone away from home because discordant notes 
 had been struck within him very discordant. When the 
 murmur of this inharmony had ceased he would return. 
 He belonged to Ardis Claverden. He had given him- 
 self to her, and there was no power on earth which could 
 make him withdraw the gift. In the autumn he would 
 return; and without reference to anything which had 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 487 
 
 taken place he would again assure her of the eternal val- 
 idity of her property in him. 
 
 Going from one summer resort to another he met many 
 beautiful and charming women, and as he was as nearly 
 beautiful as a man can be, some of these were attracted 
 by him. This he perceived, but the knowledge made no 
 impression upon him. If he occupied himself at all with 
 thoughts of these ladies it was when, from a lofty height, 
 he criticised their charms. This one was below his stand- 
 ard in one way; that one in another. One lady he con- 
 demned because she was too beautiful. She would make 
 everything about her mean and ugly, he thought; she 
 shone in herself, she gave out nothing. Not so the radi- 
 ant one to whom he had given himself. Her loveliness 
 was all-pervading. It filled his perceptions. It made it 
 impossible for him to see aught but beauty in everything 
 about her. 
 
 He was stopping in New York on his way from the sea- 
 shore to the mountains, when, picking up a newspaper at 
 his hotel, he saw therein an announcement of the mar- 
 riage of Roger Dunworth and Ardis Claverden. He read 
 it carefully; he read it again and then he laid the paper 
 upon the table. He stood for few a moments gazing 
 darkly upon the floor. Then he ejaculated: "So!" and 
 strode from the room. 
 
 With his arms folded and his eyes fixed in sombre 
 steadfastness on the ground before him, he strode a long 
 distance, turning at random this corner or that. A 
 flower-stand happening to come within the range of his 
 downward glance, his eye was attracted by a blossom 
 whose hue was in harmony with the season. Stopping, 
 he bought the flower, and pinned it in his buttonhole. 
 
 It had been late in the afternoon when he read the an- 
 nouncement ; and when it grew dark he was still striding. 
 
488 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 After a time he came out on one of the river fronts in a 
 somewhat unfrequented part of the city. The streets and 
 wharves were here not well-lighted, but there was a young 
 moon, and its half-fledged radiance made up the deficien- 
 cies of lamp light. He went out on a pier, and stood 
 with folded arms gazing darkly at the scene. The river 
 stretched far before him to the green heights upon the 
 other side. Below there were moving lights upon the 
 water. Up the river all was calm and quiet. 
 
 Moored at a short distance beyond the end of the pier 
 was a canal boat with no one visible upon it. Dalrymple 
 much wished to get upon this boat. He disliked to have 
 it between him and the view. But there was no plank 
 connecting it with the pier, and the distance was too great 
 to leap. 
 
 Dalrymple was full of youthful vigor and activity. He 
 mounted with ease to the top of one of the tall posts at 
 the end of the pier, and stood erect, with arms folded. 
 This elevated position gave him a good view of the wide- 
 spread and dimly-lighted scene ; a scene in perfect har- 
 mony with his train of thought ; for the young moon was 
 going down the sky, and dusk was slowly giving place to 
 night. 
 
 But the view was unsatisfactory to Egbert Dalrymple ; 
 the obtrusive and incongruous canal boat was between him 
 and the far-reaching. He could not avoid seeing it in its 
 ugliness, its inharmoniousness. He got down from the 
 post and looked over the side of the pier. Under the 
 next pier he saw a network of beams and cross-pieces 
 which had for him an odd attraction. He knew there 
 must be the same beneath the pier on which he stood; 
 and he let himself down nearly to the surface of the 
 water and got upon the supporting frame-work. Hold- 
 ing to some of these timbers, and stepping upon others, 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 489 
 
 he moved slowly under the pier. The light was very 
 dim and occasionally he stretched out one foot before 
 him in order to feel his way, and af*r a slight slip while 
 doing this, his foot accidentally rested upon a large, hori- 
 zontal beam, a little below the surface of the water. This 
 discovery fascinated him. His eyes were becoming ac- 
 customed to the dim light, and he could discern the 
 timbers about him. But this one could not be seen; it 
 was an unknown foothold. 
 
 Moving his foot along this submerged beam, he found 
 that it extended itself toward the outer end of the pier ; how 
 far it extended he could not know, but that mattered 
 nothing. He stepped boldly upon the beam and, as here 
 there was space enough, he stood upright. Then, thrust- 
 ing his hands into his trousers' pockets, he walked steadily 
 forward, the water lapping about his ankles. 
 
 It pleased him well that he could not see the beam on 
 which he walked. He would come to the end of it with- 
 out knowing he was there. This would be in consonance 
 with his mood. 
 
 He came to the end without knowing he was there. 
 " So! " he ejaculated ; and thrusting his hands still deeper 
 into his pockets, he disappeared beneath the water. 
 
 There was no one on the canal boat but the wife of the 
 captain, and as she did not expect her husband until a 
 late hour she fastened the door of the little cabin and 
 went to bed early. She slept well, but she had a curious 
 dream. She dreamed that somebody without a boat, or a 
 plank, or a bridge of any kind, came out to the canal boat, 
 and knocked for admission. And, strangest of all, this 
 person did not knock on the door of her cabin, nor on 
 the deck, nor on the sides, nor at the bow nor the stern, 
 but actually knocked on the bottom of the boat. 
 
 When, after midnight, her husband came on board in a 
 
490 
 
 ARDIS CLA VERDE.\\ 
 
 skiff, she told him her dream. He was in a jovial mood 
 and laughed. 
 
 " That's just where I want people to knock," said he, 
 " who come about this boat when I am away. I fancy 
 you didn't git up an' let him in? " 
 
 The woman smiled, but the influence of the dream was 
 upon her, and she lay awake for a long time. 
 
 The tide was running out, and from under the canal 
 boat the flower of late summer, the blossom in harmony 
 with the season, floated away under the quiet waters into 
 the open bay, and beneath the vessels great and small, 
 on and on, urged by the strong current, out to sea. And 
 there, floating in still water far below the long-rolling sur- 
 face swell it passed beneath a coastwise steamer coming 
 northward, on whose deck stood a newly-wedded couple 
 on their bridal tour. They had come on deck to see the 
 sun rise. 
 
 Farther out to sea, and farther out, and deeper down, 
 and deeper down, sank the flower of late summer, until it 
 faded away into unknown depths, where no particle of light 
 could penetrate to show that it had ever been a flower. 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 49 j 
 
 CHAPTER LI. 
 
 IT was early in September, Ardis and Roger had re- 
 turned from their wedding tour, and at the earnest 
 solicitude of Major Claverden were spending a few days 
 at Bald Hill before settling in their new home. Not a 
 cloud obscured their perfect happiness. They returned 
 to hear nothing but that which was cheerful and hopeful. 
 
 At Heatherley, Norma was full of work and happiness. 
 Delighted with the conviction that, as a i.iarried woman, 
 she was managing better than ever before, she did not 
 perceive that Jack Surrey's hand was ever on the helm ; 
 that he it was who gave the word of command ; that he 
 ordered the sails flung to the .winds or furled from the 
 storm ; and that he piped all hands to holystone the deck, 
 to board the enemy, or to muster aft for grog. 
 
 Doctor Lester was looking better. His eyes were 
 brighter, and the old smile was more frequently seen on 
 his face. He had accepted two things; the Inevitable 
 and Cream-o'-Tartar, and both had done him good. He 
 was fond of walking, but he did not like to be obliged to 
 walk, it humbled him. It was cheering to his soul again 
 to ride about on his good old friend, and wherever he 
 went, to meet other good friends glad to see him. 
 
 One thing he had lost, or rather had deliberately set 
 aside, and that was the old friendship and intimacy with 
 his brother philosophizer, Bonetti. The doctor was al- 
 ways civil to the descendant of the wine dresser, but there 
 was no more philosophizing; there were no more conn- 
 
492 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 dences. Bonnet had been false to him. Bonnet was set 
 aside. 
 
 The three English pupils of husbandry still remained at 
 the Dunworth place, awaiting the advent of the new 
 regime. Parchester was there because it was the wish of 
 his heart to live where he could serve the mistress who 
 was coming; Skit-t was there because he wanted to see 
 how things were going to turn out ; and Cruppledean re- 
 mained because it was stupid to go off by one's self, and 
 because he supposed one place was as bad as another. 
 
 Tom Prouter was in a state of spasmodic satisfaction. 
 This had been the case for a few days only. For some 
 weeks before he had been in a very dull mood. He 
 had lost interest in his vineyard. Surrey had deserted 
 him ; and there had been another cloud of which he did 
 not speak. But now his spirits were brightening. He 
 had sold his place, and Miss Airpenny had bought it. 
 
 This sturdy and worthy lady was about to set off on a 
 long series of journeys into far-away lands, and it had oc- 
 curred to her, when Prouter's little estate was put into the 
 market at a very low figure, that it would be a satisfactory 
 thing to have a home to come back to and a place to 
 which to send such articles of oddity or art as she might 
 collect in her wanderings. So she bought the property, 
 vineyard and all, and engaged Bonetti to come there with 
 his family and take charge while she was away, and to de- 
 vote his services to her when she should return. 
 
 This was rare good fortune to Bonetti. Here would 
 be opportunities, such as before he had never had for en- 
 joying what the seasons might give him of warm air, blue 
 sky, and the smell of grapes. 
 
 It was matter for conjecture, when Bonetti had settled 
 his family in the small house vacated by Prouter, whether 
 or not Miss Airpenny, after her return from her travels 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 493 
 
 would be able to find any place for herself and her be- 
 longings. But the ingenious Bonetti easily solved this 
 problem by showing what a simple matter it would be to 
 build a wing on one side of the house. There was space 
 enough to make the rooms any size Miss Airpenny might 
 think she required. 
 
 One regret only clouded the soul of Bonetti, and that 
 was that Doctor Lester was no longer his friend, confi- 
 dant, and benefactor. But philosophizing is often a great 
 comfort; and as Bonetti smoked his evening pipe on the 
 little porch of his new home, he more than once said to 
 himself that, after all, it was very well that things had hap- 
 pened as they had happened. For if he had not sold that 
 little piece of information to Prouter he and Surrey would 
 never have gone to Georgia; there would have been no 
 row down there ; Miss Ardis would have returned to Bald 
 Hill engaged to Dunworth; the madcap Prouter would 
 never have thought of settling down and buying that 
 house and vineyard ; if he had not bought it he could not 
 have sold it to Miss Airpenny; if Miss Airpenny had not 
 become its owner, he, Joseph Bonetti, would not now be 
 smoking his evening pipe upon that porch. 
 
 The fact that no one knew anything of the whereabouts 
 of Egbert Dalrymple caused no sensation in his family 
 nor among his acquaintances. It was so much of a cus- 
 tom with him to go away when he pleased, to stay away as 
 long as he pleased, and to write to no one unless it hap- 
 pened to please him to do so, that his continued absence 
 was considered quite a matter of course. He had a small 
 income of his own, and it was not necessary for him to 
 communicate with his family. 
 
 His sister had her private ideas about him. "This 
 time," she said to herself, " it is all on account of that 
 Claverden girl. He will not come back here until he has 
 
494 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 set his heart on somebody else. If he should write to me 
 from Japan, I should not be surprised." 
 
 As nobody knew where he had gone, nobody knew that 
 he would not come back. The only connection between 
 what he had been and what he was, was the vague dream 
 of the wife of the canal-boat captain a dream belonging 
 as much to another world as to this. 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 495 
 
 CHAPTER LII. 
 
 It was the last evening of the stay of Roger and Ardis at 
 Bald Hill. On the morrow they would begin life in 
 their own home. The air was slightly cool, j.nd a wood 
 fire was crackling in the library, where a goodly company 
 of friends were assembled. The Chiverleys were there; 
 they had come down to the wedding, and had been de- 
 tained by the major as prisoners of hospitality. Doctor 
 Lester was there ; and Mr. and Mrs. Surrey had driven 
 down from Heatherley in the old family coach, which had 
 recently been painted and put in running order. Ex- 
 Governor Upton and General Tredner had arrived that 
 day, having come down to Bald Hill to keep the major 
 from feeling lonely after his daughter had gone. They 
 were always willing to employ a spare week or two in good 
 works of this sort. 
 
 The major had invited the three English pupils, but 
 when they heard that Miss Airpenny was to be there. 
 Skitt and Cruppledean declined; and Tom Prouter 
 drove Parchester to Bald Hill in his cart. 
 
 " Do you know what I should like to do? " said Prouter, 
 when they were on the road. 
 
 " No, really," said Parchester. " It is too much to ex- 
 pect of any man to know what you would like to do! " 
 
 " Then I'll tell you," said Prouter, with an expression of 
 high moral conviction. " It is beastly stupid for me to try 
 to manage things I know nothing about. I made an 
 ass of myself in the milk business, and vine-growing was 
 no better. Before I start out to do anything else I ought 
 
496 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 to know how to do it. What do you say to my asking 
 Dun worth to take me as a pupil? " 
 
 Parchester gave a sudden twist in his seat, and looked 
 very hard at his companion. " Tom Prouter," said he, 
 "where did you tell me your peor^e live at home? " 
 
 " At Fligwich, Bucks," was the reply. 
 
 " Well then," said Parchester, "what I advise you to do 
 is to go back to Fligwich as soon as you can." 
 
 "Fligwich be blowed!" said Prouter, as he gave his 
 horse such a crack that Parchester nearly went backward 
 out of the cart. " I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll go to 
 California and travel about there for a time, and if I find, 
 when I come back, that I haven't got over wanting to 
 learn farming of Dunworth, then I'll go to Fligwich." 
 
 The library was the largest and pleasantest room at 
 Bald Hill ; and never had it held a more genial company. 
 Late in the evening the major absented himself for a few 
 minutes, and when he returned he bore in his hand a 
 bottle of wine. He advanced into the middle of the 
 room, and put the bottle upon a table. 
 
 " Ladies and gentlemen," he said, " I will ask you to 
 give me your attention for a very short time. You all 
 know that for years I have devoted myself to an object 
 which gradually grew to be very precious to me. That 
 object was to produce on my native soil, on the very land 
 on which I was born, on which I have lived, and on which 
 I shall die, a wine as rich, as generous, I may say of as 
 noble qualities, as that which is made from the most famed 
 vineyards of the Rhine ; in which vineyards there are no 
 elements of success in grape culture which do not exist on 
 my own Bald Hill. This I believe. And this I still be- 
 lieve. 
 
 "But I have not been able to attain my object. 
 Through my own fault I have been unable to attain 
 
ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 497 
 
 it. In many ways I erred, but I shall not dwell upon 
 these. One of my greatest faults was the eagerness of 
 age. I ought to have been a young man when I began 
 this work, for I was handicappped by the feeling that 
 what I had to do must be done quickly. I was too un 
 willing to wait patiently for results. Of this I will pres 
 ently give you proof. 
 
 " Four years ago some of my vines, to which I had given 
 great care, yielded promising fruit from which a small 
 quantity of wine was made. This wine, even after the 
 lapse of two years, did not come up to my standard of 
 wine of that age. This disappointment led me to dig up 
 the vines. Of the wine that was made, only this bottle 
 was preserved. A day or two ago, more from curiosity 
 than any other motive, I tasted it, and I say to you, my 
 dear friends, that I believe I have here the true wine of 
 Bald Hill, equal to any wine ever made on the slopes of 
 the Rhine or on the smiling shores of the Mediterranean." 
 
 This announcement made a great stir in the eagerly 
 listening company; but no one interrupted the major, and 
 he went on. 
 
 *' But I have failed in my great object of the production 
 of this wine on my native soil. The vines from which this 
 was made are gone. I cannot tell any one, for I do not 
 know, myself, under what conditions I grew them. It is 
 too late for me to begin again that protracted series of 
 experiments. There is in the world but this one bottle of 
 my wine of Bald Hill; and there will never be any more 
 of it. 
 
 " But I do not consider that my life has been a failure. 
 I have lived to see my daughter happy. That is enough 
 for me. And now, good friends, to the health and hap- 
 piness of that daughter let us drink the wine of Bald Hill." 
 
 A tray of small glasses was brought, and the major care- 
 32 
 
49 8 ARDIS CLAVERDEN. 
 
 fully portioned the precious wine among the company. The 
 toast was drank with friendly enthusiasm. Then followed 
 a burst of encomiums upon the aroma and flavor of the 
 wine which the company continued to sip with increasing 
 delight as long as a drop remained. But it was impossi- 
 ble that the general gratification should not be mingled 
 with feelings of regret that the Wine of Bald Hill was 
 a thing of the past. The major, however, declined all 
 condolences. He had had success enough in life; he 
 could spare this one. 
 
 Suddenly, and to the surprise of every one, Doctor 
 Lester rose to his feet with the evident intention of ad- 
 dressing the company. Such action was so foreign to the 
 ordinary habits of this quiet and retiring gentleman that 
 every one stopped talking, and every eye was fixed upon 
 him. Unaccustomed as he was to addressing even the 
 smallest assembly, he did not, on this occasion, hesitate, 
 nor show the slightest discomposure. Either the potent 
 spirit of the rich wine, or the concentrated emotions of a 
 lifetime affected him. He spoke with strength and 
 earnestness. 
 
 " My friends," he said, " do not commiserate Major 
 Claverden. He has nothing to regret. He has not failed. 
 The true ' Wine of Bald Hill ' is a thing of reality. It ex- 
 ists. Noble, generous, and rare, it flows in the veins of 
 his daughter Ardis." 
 
 A round of applause broke from the company as the 
 doctor sat down ; and, without a word, Major Claverden 
 warmly grasped him by the hand. A moment afterward 
 Ardis stepped quickly to the doctor's side, and, stooping, 
 kissed him. 
 
 THE END. 
 
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 A Series of Popular Histories, uniform with the 
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 Series. Each I vol., I2mo, attractively bound 
 in cloth. Per vol., $1.25. 
 
 1. THE WAR OF 1812. By ROSSITER JOHNSON. 
 
 2. THE OLD FRENCH WAR. By ROSSITER JOHNSON. 
 
 3. THE WAR WITH MEXICO. By H. O. LADD. 
 
 4. KING PHILLIP'S WAR. By RICHARD MAKKHAM. 
 
PUBLICATIONS OF DODD, MEAD & COMPANY. 
 
 By F. B. GOUL.DING. 
 
 THE YOUNG MAROONERS. With introduc- 
 tion by Joel Chandler Harris (Uncle Remus), 
 with 8 double-page illustrations. I2mo, cloth, 
 $1.25. 
 
 MAROONER'S ISLAND. With six double-page 
 illustrations by W. C. Jackson. Uniform with 
 " The Young Marooners." I2mo, cloth, $1.25. 
 
 THE WOODRUFF STORIES. Sapelo Nar- 
 cooche Saloquah. A new edition of these 
 entertaining stories. With six illustrations by 
 W. C. Jackson, i vol., I2mo, cloth, $1.25. 
 
 " It has been written with truth that the ' Young Marooners ' is 
 known in many lands and languages. It has become a permanency 
 a classic so to speak. It is vigorous, interesting, suggestive. 
 Every boy and girl will thank you for a copy." Item, Philadelphia. 
 
 NOVELS BY MARTHA FINLEY. 
 
 Author of The Elsie Books, each i vol., I2mo 
 cloth, $1.25. 
 
 CASELLA. A Tale of the Waldenses. 
 OUR FRED ; or, Seminary Life at Thurston. 
 OLD-FASHIONED BOY. 
 WANTED, A PEDIGREE. 
 THE THORN IN THE NEST. 
 
 SIGNING THE CONTRACT, AND WHAT IT 
 COST. 
 
 "This story is original in plan, written in natural tone, at many 
 points extremely touching, and possessing interests for all those 
 readers who like fiction which develops lessons of a highly spiritual 
 character." Literary World. 
 
PUBLICATIONS OF DODD, MEAD & COMPANY. 
 
 By MARTHA FINLEY. 
 
 THE ELSIE BOOKS. Per vol., $1.25. 15 vols. 
 in a box, I2mo, cloth, $18.75. 
 
 ELSIE DINSMORE. ELSIE'S NEW RELATIONS. 
 
 ELSIE'S GIRLHOOD. ELSIE AT NANTUCKET. 
 
 ELSIE'S HOLIDAYS AT THE TWO ELSIES. 
 
 ROSELANDS. ELSIE'S KITH AND KIN. 
 ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD. ELSIE'S FRIENDS AT 
 ELSIE'S MOTHERHOOD. WOODBURN. 
 ELSIE'S CHILDREN. CHRISTMAS WITH GRAND- 
 ELSIE'S WIDOWHOOD. MA ELSIE. 
 GRANDMOTHER ELSIE. ELSIE AND THE RAYMONDS. 
 
 "The one cause of this author's popularity among thoughtful 
 people is that she never neglects to inculcate the doctrines of upright 
 living and Christian integrity, and the charming stories of domestic 
 life that she has given us are told in so delightful a manner that one 
 becomes quite as interested in reading them as the more sensational 
 books of the day." Detroit Commercial Advertiser. 
 
 The author of the Elsie Books is not a stranger to youthful read- 
 ers, especially to the girls, with whom she is a great favorite. Her 
 stories are pure and good, and yet full of incident which interests and 
 holds the attention, but does not unduly excite. Such books as this 
 are healthful in their influence. 
 
 THE MILDRED BOOKS. A Companion Series 
 to the Elsie Books. Per vol., $1.25. 6 vols. in 
 box, $7.50. 
 
 MILDRED KEITH. MILDRED AND ELSIE. 
 
 M LAN D D! EDATR SE " MILDRED AT HOME. 
 MILDRED'S MARRIED MILDRED'S BOYS AND 
 LIFE. GIRLS. 
 
 " In a sweet, simple strain the author tells the story of her char- 
 acters, their romances, their joys, and their sorrows. Miss Finley 
 portrays so beautiful a Christian spirit pervading the households and 
 individuals she represents, that religion through them seems very at- 
 tractive." Christian Observer* 
 
PUBLICATIONS OF DODD, MEAD & COMPACT. 
 
 The Works of Mrs. ANDREW CHARLES. 
 
 Each in i vol., I2mo, cloth, $1.00. 
 
 CHRONICLES OF THE SCHONBERG-COTTA FAMILY, 
 as Told by Two of Themselves. 
 
 EARLY DAWN (THE) ; or, Sketches of Christian Life in Eng- 
 land in the Early Time. 
 
 DIARY OF KITTY TRE VELYAN. A Story of the Times of 
 Whitefield and the Wesleys. 
 
 WINIFRED BERTRAM, AND THE WORLD SHE LIVED 
 IN. 
 
 THE DRAYTONS AND THE D AVENANTS. A Story of the 
 Civil Wars. 
 
 ON BOTH SIDES OF THE SEA. A Story of the Common- 
 wealth and the Restoration. 
 
 THE VICTORY OF THE VANQUISHED. A Story of the 
 First Century. 
 
 JOAN THE MAID, DELIVERER OF FRANCE AND ENG- 
 LAND. 
 
 LAPSED, BUT NOT LOST. A Tale of Carthage and the 
 Early Church. 
 
 NOTE-BOOK OF THE BERTRAM FAMILY. A Sequel to 
 " Winifred Bertram." 
 
 WOMEN OF CHRISTENDOM. Being Sketches of the Lives 
 of the Notable Christian Women of History. 
 
 WATCHWORDS FOR THE WARFARE OF LIFE. Se- 
 lected from the Writings of Luther. 
 
 CONQUERING AND TO CONQUER. 
 
 AGAINST THE STREAM. The Story of an Heroic Age in 
 
 England. 
 
 THREE MARTYRS OF THE XIX. CENTURY. 
 
 " The moral tendency of the books by this author is of the high- 
 est character, and as she is wont to take a subject which brings her 
 into the domain of religious history she teaches lessons of the great- 
 est value to young and old," New York Observer* 
 
PUBLICATIONS OF DODD, MEAD & COMPANY. 
 
 GREAT EXPLORERS AND EXPLORA- 
 TIONS. 
 
 Messrs. DODD, MEAD & COMPANY announce that, in 
 connection with Messrs. G. Philip & Son, of London, they 
 have begun the publication of a series entitled 
 
 GREAT EXPLORERS AND EXPLORATIONS. 
 
 Edited by J. Scott Keltic, Librarian Royal 
 
 Geographical Society; H. J. Mackinder, M.A., 
 
 . Reader in * Geography at the University of 
 
 Oxford ; and E. G. Ravenstein, F.R.G.S. 
 
 The volumes will deal with the life and work of those heroic 
 adventurers through whose exertions the face of the earth has been 
 made known to humanity. 
 
 Each will, so far as the ground covered admits, deal mainly with 
 one prominent name associated with some particular region, and 
 will tell the story of his life and adventures, and describe the work 
 which he accomplished in the service of geographical discovery. The 
 aim will be to do ample justice to geographical results, while the 
 personality of the explorer is never lost sight of. In a few cases, in 
 which the work of discovery cannot be possibly associated with the 
 name of any single explorer, some departure from this plan may be 
 unavoidable, but it will be followed as far as practicable. It is hoped 
 that when the series is concluded, it will form a fairly complete Bio- 
 graphical History of Geographical Discovery. 
 
 Each volume will be written by a recognized authority on this 
 subject, and will be amply furnished with specially prepared maps, 
 portraits, and other original illustrations. 
 
 While the names of the writers whose co-operation has been 
 secured are an indication of the high standard aimed at from a liter- 
 ary and scientific point of view, the series will be essentially a popu- 
 lar one, appealing to the great mass of general readers, young and 
 old, who have always shown a keen interest in the story of the 
 world's exploration, when well told. 
 
 Each volume will consist of about 300 pp, I2mo, and will be 
 published at $1-25. 
 
PUBLICATIONS OF DODD, MEAD <Sr- COMPANY. 
 Two volumes of the series are now published, namely : 
 
 JOHN DAVIS. Arctic Explorer and Early India 
 Navigator. By Clements R. Markham, C.B., 
 F.R.S. 
 
 PALESTINE. By Major C. R. Conder, R.E., 
 Leader of the Palestine Exploring Expeditions. 
 
 The following are in rapid preparation : 
 
 MAGELLAN AND THE PACIFIC. By Dr. H. 
 H. Guillemard, author of " The Cruise of the 
 Marchesa." 
 
 JOHN FRANKLIN AND THE NORTHWEST 
 PASSAGE. By Captain Albert Markham, R.N. 
 
 SAUSSURE AND THE ALPS. By Douglas W. 
 Freshfield, Hon. Sec. Royal Geographical 
 Society. 
 
 MUNGO PARK AND THE NIGER. By Joseph 
 Thomson, author of "Through Masai Land," 
 etc. 
 
 THE HIMALAYA." By Lieut-General R. 
 Strachey, R.E., C.S.L, late President of the 
 R.G.S. 
 
 LIVINGSTONE AND CENTRAL AFRICA. 
 By H. H. Johnston, H.B.M., Consul at Mozam- 
 bique. 
 
 ROSS AND THE ANTARCTIC. By H. J. Mac- 
 kinder, M.A., Reader in Geography at Oxford. 
 
 BRUCE AND THE NILE. By J. Scott Keltic, 
 Librarian, R.G.S. 
 
 VASCO DA GAMA AND THE OCEAN HIGH- 
 WAY TO INDIA. By E. G. Ravenstein, 
 F.R.G.S. 
 
 It is proposed to include in the series several volumes devoted 
 to American Explorers. 
 
PUBLICATIONS OF DODD, MEAD & COMPANY. 
 
 The Novels of AMELIA E. BARR. 
 
 Each I2tno, cloth, $1.25. 
 JAN VEDDER'S WIFE. 
 A DAUGHTER OF FIFE. 
 THE BOW OF ORANGE RIBBON. 
 THE SQUIRE OF SANDAL-SIDE. 
 A BORDER SHEPHERDESS. 
 PAUL AND CHRISTINA. 
 MASTER OF HIS FATE. 
 REMEMBER THE ALAMO. 
 THE LAST OF THE MACALLISTERS. 
 BETWEEN TWO LOVES. 
 FEET OF CLAY. 
 Cheap Editions in paper have been issued of "Jan Vedder'a 
 
 Wife," " Bow of Orange Ribbon." Each 8vo, 25 cents. 
 
 "I want to thank you for the pleasure I have had in reading 
 'Jan Vedder's Wife/ It is the most natural story I have read in 
 years, and is delightfully fresh and true from beginning to end." 
 J. HABBERTON. 
 
 '"A Daughter of Fife.' A good story touchingly told in the 
 sea tongue of the Fife fishermen. These tender stories of broad 
 Scotch dialect have a strong and mysterious hold upon the human 
 heart." Washington Post. 
 
 " ' The Bow of Orange Ribbon ' is a romance pure and simple. 
 The love tale which forms the main thread of the novel is a singularly 
 pure and touching one. The story contains abundance of incident, 
 and moves rapidly and easily." The Christian Union. 
 
 " ' Master of His Fate* is in some respects the most realistic of 
 Mrs. Barr's novels. There is a keen power and fine discrimination 
 in the character drawing that makes the book attractive and 
 thoroughly entertaining in the reading." The Gazette, Boston, 
 
 "Judging Mrs. Barr by what she has already accomplished and 
 comparing it carefully with the productions, as wholes, of other 
 American women in the same field, I do not hesitate to pronounce it 
 superior to theirs in its entirety, however it may fall below in separate 
 details. And so it seems to me Amelia E. Barr may very well rank 
 as the foremost woman novelist of America." OSCAR FAY ADAMS 
 in Andwer Review. 
 
PUBLICATIONS OF DODD, MEAD & COMPANY. 
 
 The Works of EDWARD GARRETT. 
 
 A new edition, bound in uniform style. I2mo, cloth, 
 per vol., $1.00. 
 
 DOING AND DREAMING. 
 
 BY STILL WATERS. 
 
 GOLD AND DROSS ; or, Hester Capel's Inheritance. 
 
 CROOKED PLACES. A Story of Struggles and Triumphs. 
 
 PREMIUMS PAID TO EXPERIENCE. 
 
 THE DEAD SIN, AND OTHER STORIES. 
 
 THE OCCUPATIONS OF A RETIRED LIFE. 
 
 THE CRUST AND THE CAKE. 
 
 THE HOUSE BY THE WORKS. 
 
 FAMILY FORTUNES. 
 
 HER OBJECT IN LIFE. 
 
 AT ANY COST. 
 
 EQUAL TO THE OCCASION. 
 
 JOHN WINTER. A Story of the Harvest. 
 
 LIFE'S LONG BATTLE WON. 
 
 " There is a quiet charm about the writings of Edward Garrett, 
 a simple purity of thought, a high but unpretending range of senti- 
 ment, a tender piety without Phariseeism, an expression and fulfil- 
 ment, in fine, of culture and modest Christianity, which is peculiarly 
 satisfying to the soul in these times of worldly worry and worldly in- 
 tensity." N. Y. Evening Mail. 
 
 Edward Garrett has done good service in giving these wholesome 
 stones to the public. Without a word of preaching, each points un- 
 erringly to the right course, and not only young men and women, 
 but older people, may learn many valuable lessons from their silent 
 teaching. 
 
 '"Crooked Places' tells a healthful story of an English family 
 reduced from wealth to poverty, who overcame trials, and emerged 
 from their struggles purified and developed." Christian Era. 
 
 " The great value of Doing over Dreaming is illustrated by the 
 history of two families who lived side by side, and the principle and 
 necessity of having a worthy purpose in life or an object to live for. 
 and a willingness to do whatever is necessary to gain the end in view, 
 is enforced in such a manner as to show the dignity and honorable- 
 ness of such a course over a time serving policy." St, Louis Evan- 
 gelist. 
 
PUBLICATIONS OF DO DP, MEAD & COMPANY. 
 
 By EDWARD and GEORGE CARY 
 EGGLESTON. 
 
 FAMOUS AMERICAN INDIANS. A series 
 illustrative of Early American History. Each 
 in one handsome volume, illustrated with maps 
 and engravings. Uniformly bound. I2mo, 
 cloth, per volume, $1.00. 
 
 TECUMSEH AND THE SHAWNEE PROPHET. By 
 
 EDWARD EGGLESTON and LILLIE EGGLESTON SEELYE. 
 RED EAGLE. By GEORGE GARY EGGLESTON. 
 POCAHONTAS. By EDWARD EGGLESTON and Mrs. SEELYE. 
 BRANDT AND RED JACKET. By the same. 
 MONTEZUMA. By the same. 
 
 These books deal with the most romantic period of American 
 history. Tecumseh, the greatest of the Shavvnees, was perhaps the 
 greatest genius of his race known in the annals of our country. The 
 Life of Red Eagle throws light on the Creek War, which broke out 
 in Alabama in 1813, and was finally brought to an end by the 
 bloody battle of Tohopeka, fought by Jackson in 1814. 
 
 In "Montezuma" the authors have told the ever-interesting 
 story of the Aztecs and their last emperors in language at once simple 
 and attractive. In "Brandt and Red Jacket" we have again the 
 thrilling accounts of the struggles of our forefathers in the Middle 
 States, while Pocahontas takes us to the first settlement of the Old 
 Dominion. 
 
 By KIRKE MUNROE. 
 
 THE GOLDEN DAYS OF '49. A Tale of the 
 California Diggings. By Kirke Munroe, author 
 of "The Flamingo Feather," "Wakulla," 
 " Derrick Sterling." With 10 full-page illus- 
 trations by W. C. Jackson. 8vo, cloth, $2.25. 
 
 " A book fascinating from beginning to end. It tells in vigorous 
 English, but without exaggeration, the story of a successful search for 
 a mysterious ' Golden Valley.' It is one of the most entertaining 
 and creditable of holiday books." IV. Y. Tribune. 
 
PUBLICATIONS OF DODD, MEAD & COMPANY. 
 
 By Prof. ALFRED J. CHURCH. 
 
 Each I vol., I2mo. Illustrated with about 20 
 plates, many in color, from designs by Flax- 
 man and others. Cloth, per vol., $1.50. 
 
 STORIES FROM HOMER. 
 
 STORIES FROM VIRGIL. 
 
 STORIES FROM THE GREEK TRAGEDIANS. 
 
 STORIES FROM LIVY. 
 
 ROMAN LIFE IN THE DAYS OF CICERO. 
 
 STORIES OF THE PERSIAN WAR FROM HERODO- 
 TUS. 
 
 STORIES FROM HERODOTUS. 
 
 TWO THOUSAND YEARS AGO ; OR, THE ADVEN- 
 TURES OF A ROMAN BOY. 
 
 STORIES OF THE MAGICIANS. 
 WITH THE KING AT OXFORD. 
 THE CHANTRY PRIEST OF BARNET. 
 
 " Alfred J. Church has done for the classics what Charles and 
 Mary Lamb did for Shakespeare, and what the former proposed to 
 do at one time for Beaumont and Fletcher." Mail and Express. 
 
 " They are well done, open the way well to classic study, are 
 full of interest on their own account. Excepting the Bible, nothing 
 is better, if anything is so good. These stories have, too, this ad- 
 vantage over the ordinary moralizing didactics, that they are strong 
 and manly and exhibit virtue in a large, noble, and imposing light, 
 not shining in holiness, perhaps, but free from littleness and man- 
 nerism." Independent, 
 
 HISTORIES OF THE OLD WORLD. A Se- 
 ries of Popular Histories. Each I vol., 8vo, 
 with frontispiece. Cloth, extra, per vol., $1.50. 
 
 ITALY. 1 TURKEY. By EDSON L. CLARKE. 
 
 Aulf RIA. f JoHN S " ^ABBOTT. EGYPT. By J. C. McCoAN. 
 
 PRUSSIA. J GERMANY. By BARING GOULQ 
 
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