THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 
 
 
 *
 
 Puritan |3agcm 
 
 A NO^EL 
 
 BY 
 
 JULIEN GORDON 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 A DIPLOMAT'S DIARY, A SUCCESSFUL MAN, 
 MLLE. RESEDA, VAMPIRES, ETC. 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 
 1891
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1891, 
 BY D. APPLETON AND COMPANY.
 
 I DEDICATE 
 THIS STORY OF 
 
 A MAN'S SIN AND REPENTANCE 
 TO EARNEST PEOPLE.
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 
 far from where the great soldier and Pres- 
 ident lies buried there stands an old colonial man- 
 sion, porticoed and pillared, amid tall trees, and 
 with a bit of garden at its back. Here Paul Sor- 
 chan, the well-known scientist, who gave to human- 
 ity more benefits than one poor brain could have 
 been expected to bequeath it is only the man who 
 has left somewhat to the world, whether a material 
 blessing or a high example, whose life has really 
 been worth the living here, I say, Sorchan lived 
 with his only child. The house belonged to the girl. 
 Sorchan had married a lovely Southerner whom he 
 had met while traveling. She had died a year later 
 at her daughter's birth, living just long enough to 
 give her little girl a name, and, as an inheritance, a 
 large plantation and homestead, neglected and hope- 
 lessly out of repair, in Southern Georgia. What is 
 one man's poison is another man's meat ; what one
 
 6 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 deems useless, another desires. Everything has its 
 market. A rich gentleman dying of consumption 
 had been recommended to try the South. From 
 the window of his slowly moving train he espied 
 this estate, with its noble forests. With a whim of 
 invalidism, he stopped at the next station and sent 
 back to ask its price. He was shortly answered by 
 a crabbed agent, who ran the farm with worse than 
 no success, that it was " not for sale." What had 
 been a mere freak, a passing caprice, sprang at once 
 into a fierce longing. A large sum was offered. 
 Sorchan, to whom the offer was communicated, 
 knew little of business, yet realized that he had no 
 right to refuse such an unlooked-for opportunity. 
 He therefore signed the deed which conveyed the 
 property of his infant child, and invested a part of 
 the money in the house by the river, where they 
 now lived, placing the rest in trust to accumulate 
 for her until she should be of age. 
 
 He was himself of New England origin, but the 
 great metropolis of the Northern States sucks unto 
 itself most of the ambition, vigor, and enterprise of 
 the land. It is at once the encourager of labor 
 and its reward. This home seemed just what was 
 required. The baby could play in the shade, and 
 the father could enjoy the repose of the country or 
 whirl in the vortex of men at his wish. His life 
 work required both rest and friction, and rest the
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 7 
 
 quiet homestead gave him. There were few sounds 
 about it, except the chatter of swallows in the eaves, 
 the winds soughing in the branches ; and the wide 
 door, which generally stood open, admitted rarely 
 other visitors than the sunlight on its marble pave- 
 ment and the dead leaves which blew in through its 
 dim colonnade. Sorchan received and went to the 
 houses of a few men of science, learned professors 
 and philosophers, interested in such topics as 
 interested him, and, once a year, usually in the 
 spring, their young children came out to play with 
 Paula. The silent, serious child was never quite 
 sure if she enjoyed these visitations. She simply 
 accepted them, receiving her little guests with a 
 grave hospitality, a somewhat stately, old-fashioned 
 courtesy. The city children themselves did not 
 care much about her, but enjoyed the run and 
 tumble in the grass, the grand creaking swing, and 
 the flowers which grew in rows behind the dark, 
 almost black hedges of box. About once a year, 
 again, Paula was taken into the city by Honora, her 
 colored nurse, to repay these visits, and about this 
 she had not a shadow of a doubt. The expedition 
 made her profoundly miserable. Of " society," in 
 its wider meaning, the child and her father knew 
 absolutely nothing. They rarely even saw it at a 
 distance. 
 
 By and by, however, as the girl grew apace to-
 
 8 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 ward womanhood a change came over the neglected 
 neighborhood. A mighty army of laborers of every 
 land and clime sunburned Italians, with the sweet, 
 sad smile of Italy still on their lips, with the hidden 
 stiletto quick to avenge indignity, and the loving 
 heart as quick to crave forgiveness ; hard-muscled, 
 brawny Germans; pale, patient, hunted -looking 
 Poles were let loose upon its quiet sanctities. The 
 " boss " said : " Them Polands is the best ; they've 
 got no words, and eats nothing." This army of 
 locusts swarmed and settled upon the broad way 
 which separated the thinly scattered dwellings 
 from the water. There was a muttering and angry 
 screeching of dummy engines, a digging and up- 
 heaval ; giant forces at work coping with the resist- 
 ance of a grim old earth. Rocks were blasted into 
 thin air with loud reports as of some growling thun- 
 der. Sand mounds rose into mountains and then as 
 suddenly dwindled into ant-hills, and behold ! from 
 out of devastation, ruin and chaos, a wide, wind- 
 swept, tree-shaded, grass-bordered avenue, slowly, 
 slowly emerged, crept up and passed before and 
 beyond the house where the Sorchans lived. The 
 first adventurous people who drove past, a lady and 
 gentleman of inquiring spirit, forcing their team 
 through this perilous passage while it was yet 
 chaotic, exclaimed simultaneously, " What a charm- 
 ing old place ! " " I wonder," said the lady, " who
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 9 
 
 can live there ? It is evidently inhabited, and very 
 nicely kept, too." 
 
 " One often wonders who the people are who 
 live all over the world in these queer, out-of-the-way 
 sites," said the gentleman. 
 
 Twenty years earlier Mr. Sorchan's house would 
 have been termed hideous, with its heavy Grecian 
 veranda, but the tides of fashion have brought back 
 its quaint architecture into a momentary favor. 
 The place had once, indeed, in the simpler days of 
 the republic, been considered a marvel of elegance 
 and splendor. It had been the summer residence 
 of a family wealthy and powerful; pretty women 
 and gentlemen in wigs and knee-breeches had 
 danced the gavotte and minuet in its stately draw- 
 ing-rooms, and under its porch the gallantry and 
 the coquetry of a by-gone time had rested in the 
 music's pauses. 
 
 As the months wore on now the noise and bus- 
 tle and fury of work seemed gradually to dwindle 
 until it ceased. The struggle was over. The en- 
 gine stopped its sweating and puffing and spitting. 
 The workmen no more sat upon the wall to eat 
 their black bread in the sun, to mop their stream- 
 ing foreheads, swear and quarrel, laugh and sing. 
 All were whirled away one fine morning as if by 
 magic and were replaced by a spare force of cor- 
 rect officials in gray uniforms and black hats, with
 
 10 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 polished batons for their insignia. These vigilantly 
 patrolled the foot-path which overhung the river, 
 and which was separated by a bridle-path from the 
 wider carriage-road. So silence and solitude fell 
 once more. 
 
 Humanity does not realize its facilities and its 
 pleasures at once ; it would take a little while for 
 the rush of men to learn its way up toward the 
 heights where they were bidden to " come and see." 
 It was, indeed, a great prospect: the noble river 
 with its passenger steamers, or its lazy sailing ships, 
 or its wide barges " slowly trailed " from the "West- 
 ern canals, where they had passed through languid 
 tides and whence they were returning heavily laden 
 to the great black docks of the big, bright town. 
 Again, the pleasure yacht, with its flying flag and 
 pennon, its fired salute, its elegant, indolent guests, 
 speeding up to West Point, perhaps, in honor and 
 for the entertainment of some foreign dignitary or 
 diplomat, or bound for a day's amusement, a first 
 wetting before it tested the open sea and joined the 
 squadron's " summer " cruise. Beyond all, the dis- 
 tant hills, blue and misty, and the nearer Palisades, 
 whose sun-crowned walls lost in the sunset glow 
 their frowning aspect. 
 
 Paula, at the window, watched all the changes 
 from under fervent lids watched until one day, 
 at last, the tide of fashion swept up the new high-
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. H 
 
 way, lifting it a moment into ephemeral fame upon 
 its gaudily painted pinions. A half-dilapidated 
 house had been rebuilt and fitted up by an enter- 
 prising Frenchman into a restaurant on the river 
 bank. Here one day, weary of the old ruts, the 
 old amusements, the exhausted social forces found 
 a second hope. They came straggling up in de- 
 tachments for an ice or a cup of tea. They came, 
 they saw, they noted. Then they said what such 
 people, being wise, always say : " We must organ- 
 ize." They came on horseback, in low, swinging 
 Victorias, in high, racking carts, on the tops of 
 coaches. They chose a day when they would meet 
 here. They, who met daily, hourly, loved each 
 other little, often hated each other cordially, yet 
 could not live out of each other's sight for twelve 
 hours. They formed a club, a coterie, for a few 
 afternoons once a week of an early spring, and thus 
 the old-fashioned hostelry was transformed into a 
 brilliant rendezvous. 
 
 Paula, as I say, watched all this from the win- 
 dow, with her dog Gyp beside her Gyp, too, liked 
 to see everything that went on and so watching, 
 she got to know some of these people by sight. 
 She fell in love with a beautiful woman who wore 
 strange hats and carried stranger parasols, and was 
 gay and dashing, and who yet had in her face some- 
 thing sweet and even sad. She usually drove up
 
 12 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 with a gentleman in an equipage which seemed to 
 the girl very fine and very elegant. Paula won- 
 dered if any one could, be sad who wore such ex- 
 quisite clothes. Not that she herself cared much 
 for clothes she was rather careless as to her attire 
 but she fancied that if one were ever unhappy 
 one would, of necessity, abjure all personal decora- 
 tion, like the Arabs, throw dirt in the air, cover 
 one's head with sackcloth, and rend one's garments, 
 which proves that her ideas of grief were excessive- 
 ly simple. It did not occur to her, although she 
 was now a young lady, to envy these people, nor 
 had she any of the disapproval, tinctured with 
 caustic bitterness, which sours the tongue and puck- 
 ers up the mouth of the aspirant to social honors 
 who fears or who has already met with defeat. No, 
 their orbit was not hers. They were too entirely 
 removed. Her old German governess, who came 
 to her three times a week for lessons in literature, 
 and who had been kept to dinner all her teachers 
 were brought to her, Paula had never been to 
 school once tried, flattening her own nose against 
 the window-pane, to awaken some proper ambitions 
 of a worldly sort in her pupil's breast. 
 
 " You ought to be on that coach," she said, as 
 the tooting jjfern lured them both to the open pane 
 " your father one of the great men of the earth, 
 and your mother born of the P. F.'s of Georgia, as
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 13 
 
 she was " (the governess appreciated " rank," as she 
 called it) "instead, my innocent lamb, of pouring 
 over your books and living like a little nun. Your 
 papa makes you a recluse. He is wrong, all wrong. 
 Mark my words, it is a large mistake." 
 
 "They seem to enjoy themselves," said Paula, 
 " but I am afraid I should be frightened to death 
 among them all. They are so intimate together, 
 and I don't know any of them. The Princess does 
 not seem to have come to-day." 
 
 It was thus she had named that lovely lady who 
 had appealed particularly to her imagination. 
 
 " Bah ! Princess indeed ! nouveau riche prob- 
 ably, like most of them. Not fine people, real aris- 
 tocrats, like your father and yourself, mein kind, 
 and your aunt, who is a regular great lady, although 
 she mixes not in the gayety, because she no doubt 
 despises it. Bah ! What is this canaille that you 
 shouldn't be in it?" 
 
 It must be admitted that the logic of this re- 
 mark was somewhat involved. 
 
 " You like to look at the canaille, Frau Schultz, 
 nevertheless," said Paula mischievously, as her gov- 
 erness ran to another window and craned her neck 
 to catch the last glimpse of the disappearing equi- 
 pages behind the shrubbery around the curve. 
 
 " And a husband ? " asked the latter, when 
 there was nothing left to be seen, returning to the
 
 14 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 room with a somewhat flushed face, " How will you 
 have a husband ever, if you see no one ? It is ter- 
 rible, terrible ! " 
 
 " Oh, he'll come along one of these days," said 
 Paula. " He'll come on a white horse with a feath- 
 er in his hat. Don't worry, Frau Schultz ; I am 
 not a bit afraid of being an old maid. That gypsy 
 who came here last spring predicted me, oh, such 
 queer things ! She said I would marry, marry very 
 early, and that would be only the beginning of life, 
 only the very beginning. I would have a great 
 trouble, and then all the world at my feet, and then 
 a lost joy would come back. It was all very inter- 
 esting. My experiences, she said, would not be 
 ordinary ones." 
 
 "I believe you," said Frau Schultz, "for the 
 ordinary is not your role, my little angel." 
 
 Just then a hansom cab drove through the gate, 
 rolled around the gravel, pulled up at the steps and 
 a man jumped out. 
 
 " There he comes, the husband," said Paula, 
 laughing. " Oh, deary me ! alack and alas ! He 
 wears no feather in his cap, but has a hideous round 
 stiff hat on his head ; he wears a dark overcoat and 
 mounts no white horse, but is driven in a vulgar 
 street cab. Fie on him ! Fie on him ! " 
 
 It was indeed Paula's husband who came up 
 hurriedly and rang the bell.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 HE remained, as well as Fran Schultz, and dined 
 with them. He was simply a distinguished lawyer 
 who had driven out to see Mr. Sorchan d propos of 
 a patent that the latter had taken out on an electric 
 machine he had invented. Not being himself a 
 shrewd financier, he required such a one to look after 
 the business necessities of his enterprises. Norwood, 
 although still young, was already one of the first 
 patent lawyers of the country, and he was not only 
 an extremely clever, but he was also an attractive 
 fellow. lie commended himself at once to the 
 three strangers among whom he had fallen for an 
 hour or two. Mr. Sorchan found him an agreeable 
 man ; Frau Schultz thought him very handsome. 
 What Paula thought she proved more decidedly 
 later. She was apt to keep her impressions to her- 
 self. 
 
 Paul Sorchan, through some freak of nature, 
 looked more like an English country squire than a 
 savant. He was corpulent, succulent, ruddy, pos- 
 sessed of that florid, juicy burliness which is BO rare
 
 16 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 in the American of any class or any occupation. 
 He was a man of about fifty-five, but his heaviness 
 made him appear older. His individuality was 
 powerful and telling; his step, when he walked, 
 shook the house. He blew his nose loudly and 
 when he sneezed Sophia and Roxy, the two dusky 
 ladies who presided over the household, shook in 
 their wide shoes. His voice was deep and sonorous. 
 He had a chest which suggested lung power, plenty 
 of room for a healthy heart's action. Perhaps that 
 is one reason that his heart beat kindly. It is diffi- 
 cult not to believe that large valves and a rich 
 blood give the pulsations of a generous impulse. It 
 is, at any rate, a plausible conceit. 
 
 Mr. Sorchan was an agnostic, but Paula went to 
 church, to the little chapel on the Heights with 
 Honora of a Sunday morning. He had brought 
 her up as her mother would have desired, and as 
 was fit for woman, in error. Men indulge in such 
 paradoxes ! He rarely talked of religious subjects 
 to her or before her, but somehow to-day religion 
 and unbelief were served up at the table with the 
 fruit and cheese. He and his guest launched forth 
 their conversational barks upon this infinite, bot- 
 tomless, fathomless ocean. In the main they 
 
 " It is curious," said Mr. Sorchan, " that the 
 ancients considered the deities generally malevolent
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 17 
 
 and to be appeased and propitiated by sacrifices and 
 offerings. The Jewish Jehovah, you will remark, 
 was not much better. In my opinion nothing can 
 be more repellent than his portrayal in the ancient 
 books cruel, jealous, revengeful. He is repre- 
 sented as possessing the worst human attributes of a 
 fretful old man, and his greatness seems merely to 
 consist in a sort of brute force, ready at any mo- 
 ment to wreak its vengeance, to crush and mangle 
 the poor pygmies he has himself created. It is a 
 revolting picture, and it is time the world saw it in 
 its true light." 
 
 " I perfectly agree with you," said Norwood, 
 devouring a fine Bartlett pear, and in so doing 
 showing his splendid white teeth under his dark 
 auburn-brown mustache. " The Jewish Jehovah is 
 an impossible being to me as to you ; one made for 
 hatred and not for loving. You must confess, how- 
 ever, that the Christian doctrines have done a great 
 deal for civilization. They are certainly very 
 pretty. "When better understood and robbed of 
 superstition they will do more. Man's rational 
 faculties seem incapable of slaying religion. They 
 must, therefore, enlarge it. Jesus is as historic as 
 Caesar or Napoleon. He is a grand, simple, and 
 imposing figure, in spite of all the churches have 
 done to traduce him. They imitate him in nothing, 
 and are only stumbling-blocks to those who would.
 
 18 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 I suppose that if a man were a good Christian, and 
 followed the dictates of the Master he assumes to 
 believe in, he would be as perfect a gentlemen as 
 ever drew the breath of life. But church and 
 church-going are unnecessary to a person of intel- 
 lect It may serve very well for terrorizing the 
 masses. Morality has no Hen on religion. Look at 
 the Unitarians ! They are simply humanitarians." 
 
 Norwood, so speaking, finished his pear, care- 
 fully wiped his red lips and, smacking them with 
 the agreeable memory of the ripe fruit which had 
 been so rare a treat, " That was a delicious pear," 
 he said. 
 
 " I have taught in a Unitarian family," ventured 
 Frau Schultz. " They were excellent people. They 
 had no emotion. They looked like little cold clams. 
 I think they knew not temptation. People who 
 know not temptation need not religion, perhaps." 
 
 " These pears grow in our own garden," said 
 Sorchan, "and I shall be glad to smoke a cigar 
 there with you after dinner and show you my fruit 
 trees. But I do not know that I entirely agree 
 with what you say. ..." and so they continued 
 upon the same themes. 
 
 Frau Schultz, being a woman of the world, con- 
 cluded not to be shocked. Men would be men and 
 could not be muzzled. She was herself a believer, 
 but her dear husband had not been one. She was
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 19 
 
 not able to see that he was much the worse for it. 
 Later, when the men were smoking, she drew near 
 Paula and spoke a word. 
 
 " It is strange," she said, " but there was Prince 
 Pus Pus, who was ff devout man and pious, and 
 who was very gay and wild. He ruined himself 
 and his children. I knew them all when I was 
 young," and she sighed. " While my husband, who 
 was called a Deist, and was not orthodox, was so 
 pure, so pure just like a little young girl when he 
 married me, and always stayed a good man ever 
 afterward." 
 
 Paula loved to hear about Prince Pus Pus and 
 his children, Gretchen, Matilda, Carl. It was al- 
 most more amusing than the late professor's purity. 
 
 " Papa's an angel," said Paula. " I am sure he 
 only talks that way. He knows so many things 
 he has to talk. But how, if he were so religious, 
 could the Prince worry his daughters so ? " 
 
 As to her own father's security in this world or 
 the next she felt no anxiety. 
 
 " Ah ! " said Frau Schultz ; " it has to be. 
 What will you have ? With those people, they are 
 carried away. It is not like the little bourgeois life 
 one sees here. It is a whirlpool. They are swal- 
 lowed up." 
 
 Paula thought it sounded rather agreeable on 
 the whole to be swallowed up. Terrible, but at
 
 20 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 the same time fascinating. Crime, to the young, is 
 only a word. 
 
 "And the Schloss had to be sold, with the 
 swans on the lake, and the summer-house where 
 the marble goddess was ? " continued Paula, just as 
 little children egg on their elders to finish an oft- 
 repeated fairy story. 
 
 " Ach, kind! all, all," said Frau Schultz, " Even 
 to little Carl's donkey-carriage," and she shook her 
 head until her black curls danced up and down like 
 little corkscrews. " Still," she went on after a mo- 
 ment's pause, " it may be that if Prince Pus Pus 
 had had no religion he might have been worse than 
 he was. He had a good heart." 
 
 When the coffee had been served, before they 
 had left the table, an amused smile had suddenly 
 broken over Mr. Sorchan's face, and then he had 
 given vent to one of those huge laughs which made 
 the wine-glasses on the side-board jingle. He had 
 looked first at his daughter and then at Norwood. 
 
 " It is the funniest thing in the world," he said. 
 The others joined in the laughter, but did not know 
 why. " 'Pon my honor ! You two " and he 
 again scanned the faces of the younger people 
 " you two are enough alike to be brother and sis- 
 ter." 
 
 Everybody looked at everybody, and there was 
 a general exclamation. Frau Schultz had remarked
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 21 
 
 it herself. Norwood said, "It's the noses." Fi- 
 nally they got up and went together to a low-pan- 
 eled mirror which hung over the mantel-shelf. 
 They leaned to it, marking the similarities, making 
 notes aloud of the differences. 
 
 " My forehead," Paula averred, " is lower and 
 my eyes are larger and darker. My upper lip is 
 shorter than yours." 
 
 " But our noses," persisted Norwood, " are very 
 much alike. Long, straight, regular." 
 
 " You have more color in your face than I," 
 said Paula. " Your skin is lighter by a shade." 
 
 " Our mouths and chin, are not much alike," he 
 said. 
 
 "Your chin is more affectionate than mine," 
 said the girl, laughing shyly up at him, " more for- 
 giving. Mine is haughty and implacable." 
 
 This examen was not without its charms : possi- 
 bly its dangers. Norwood did not quarrel with its 
 suggestions. It necessitated a close proximity to a 
 young person who appeared to him distinctly inter- 
 esting. Her personality was quite different from 
 that of the young ladies he knew and visited in the 
 city from which he came he was a stranger here 
 and who inspired him with a mixture of contempt 
 and admiration. He had found his dinner at Mr. 
 Sorchan's agreeable enough. 
 
 This new-found likeness led to his being shown
 
 22 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 the portrait of the late Mrs. Sorchan, which hung 
 in the long drawing-room and was its principal or- 
 nament. It was a striking portrayal, in Healy's 
 best manner, of a very lovely woman. Paul Sor- 
 chan stood before it for fully *five minutes without 
 speaking ; then, wheeling suddenly upon his heels 
 a way he had 
 
 " Young man," he said, tapping his guest on the 
 breast, " young man, when you have pursued a 
 woman like that with a hopeless love for three 
 years, won her to be yours at last and then lost her, 
 you will have learned what it is to live and to suf- 
 fer. No, sir," he went on, " if there be another 
 world, as she firmly believed, there shall be no 
 complications for me there. My sister-in-law has 
 blamed me for not giving Paula a stepmother who 
 would look after her, take her into the world. The 
 fact is, sir, I can't do it. I don't pass for a senti- 
 mentalist, but perhaps I am one. I have had no 
 heart for the world since I lost my dear wife." He 
 fumbled in his coat pocket, pulled out a red silk 
 handkerchief and blew his nose loudly. 
 
 Norwood was touched. An impulse foreign to 
 his nature, which was reserved with that frightful 
 reserve of the American, that incapability of ex- 
 pression which becomes solidified into a tyrannical 
 habit, made him seek and press his host's broad 
 hand in his own palm, red bandanna and all.
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 23 
 
 This little incident made them friendly. They 
 now fell to talking of Mr. Sorchan's business inter- 
 ests. The young lawyer stayed late. 
 
 Norwood was forced by the pressing calls of his 
 profession to travel extensively. He was often in 
 the capital. Now he would be detained here for 
 several weeks ; there was an intricate law case 
 which required his assiduous attention. He was 
 stopping at a hotel. It was not the gay season in 
 town, and so it came to pass that he often drove out 
 in the twilight to the old house by the river. It 
 seemed to him a very haven of peace and repose. 
 His own home, which was near Boston, was not a 
 congenial one to him, and he never remained in it 
 many weeks at a time. His mother had married 
 again, and there was a large family of young half 
 brothers and sisters. During his early youth her 
 house had been a nursery ; it was now a school- 
 room. He was generally glad enough of an excuse 
 to prolong his absence, but he was good-natured, and 
 to please his mother still kept his room under her 
 roof and his hat hung in her hall. How different 
 the quaint atmosphere of this dignified household 
 with its Southern negro servants, its maiden hostess, 
 its genial, brilliant host ! How pleasant the rambles 
 on the bank at nightfall with the man of genius and 
 his daughter under the aspens and maples, the dis- 
 tant shores just visible to them in the trend of a
 
 24 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 young moon. Looking back afterward from amid 
 the gray ashes of disaster how often he remembered 
 the peaceful shadows of these spring nights which 
 hung misty and dreamful over a roseate past ! O 
 gioventu primavera della vita ! " 
 
 One day Mr. Sorchan asked him suddenly, " Do 
 you ever see dark spots before your eyes a kind 
 of blur which comes and goes ? " 
 
 "No, never," said Norwood. "Are you suffer- 
 ing from your eyes ? " 
 
 " I can not say suffering, but annoyed, bothered. 
 It comes between me and my work, my writing and 
 figuring, particularly the left eye. "When I cover 
 the other, things grow indistinct. I haven't told 
 Paula,, so don't speak before her ; she'd fret over it." 
 
 " Don't you think you ought to tell her ? Don't 
 you think you ought to see a physician ? " 
 
 " No, sir," he replied. " Not one of those jack- 
 asses for me. I've probably overstrained the optic 
 nerve, or something of that sort." 
 
 " Your daughter," hazarded Norwood, a trifle 
 awkwardly, "looks to me as if she might rise to 
 any emergency have plenty of pluck and good 
 sense, too." 
 
 "My little girl," said Sorchan, smiling and 
 knocking the hot ashes from his pipe against the 
 rung of his chair they were sitting upon the 
 veranda between the columns " my little girl
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 25 
 
 ought to have been a boy. She was meant for 
 one, I am sure. Plucky ! I guess she is ! And 
 the child's got a man's mind, too. Why, she's 
 helped me a thousand times in my most intricate 
 work, and withal she's as happy as a cricket and 
 as innocent. Society ! What would have society 
 done but spoil her? At any rate the few people 
 she does see are cultivated and refined. Not vul- 
 gar upstarts to turn her head with their frivolities. 
 She has had very little, but she has had no bad 
 companionship. That's something. I tell you 
 what, she's a trump ! and she's good-looking, too, 
 although she'll never come anywhere near her 
 mother." 
 
 The young lady in question appeared at this 
 moment in the doorway. She had slipped over 
 her light-blue cotton gown a short coat of her 
 father's whose large sleeves hung far down over 
 her brown hands, and on her head was a soft hat 
 of his, pushed somewhat away from the forehead 
 and its frieze of dark chestnut hair. She was hold- 
 ing the coat, which would have comfortably cov- 
 ered three of her size, lapped over across her slen- 
 der bust. Her dog was barking with excitement 
 at her heels. 
 
 " Holla, my little lad ! Is that you ? " said her 
 father, laughing. " Mr. Norwood, this is my son 
 Paul."
 
 26 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 She did indeed look like a boy, and Norwood 
 thought it not unattractive. She was strangely de- 
 void of coquetry, but its absence, which is a very 
 doubtful charm in a woman, seemed to suit her 
 peculiar faroucJie type. Her beauty, if she had 
 any Norwood was not quite sure was not now, 
 whatever it might become, of a kind which ap- 
 pealed sensuously. Yet one felt that it might touch 
 the imagination. One can not feed the senses and 
 the imagination at the same moment. Such as she 
 was she suited Norwood's present mood. He had 
 remembered the " implacable chin." What did she 
 mean, he wondered. It had seemed to him rather 
 a pretty chin. Would she be an implacable woman ? 
 What would be the outgrowth of a Southern and 
 New England ancestry ? Probably rather charming 
 Southern fire and fervency mingled with and 
 tempered by New England common sense a grate- 
 ful balance. 
 
 He was himself a Puritan of the Puritans. He 
 hated it, but could not shake it off ; nothing can : 
 not license, not libertinage. Nor can it be drowned 
 in the cup. It remains a drop in the blood always 
 with its sense of guilt, its dark, morbid capacity of 
 remorse ; the taint, if you will, of an inherited con- 
 scientiousness ; bitter, harsh, often inconvenient, 
 but ineffaceable. Death alone will dry it out of 
 one's veins. He fell to recalling an episode of his
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 27 
 
 past. He had been very much in love, so he had 
 imagined at the time, with an exquisite Roman 
 lady, a Marchesa, who was the belle of the Eternal 
 City while he was there, a young fellow, studying 
 Roman law. They had met at a ball at the English 
 Embassy, and for some reason, unexplainable to his 
 modesty, she had taken a fancy to him. He was 
 sitting at her small feet one day looking up into her 
 blue eyes she had blue eyes and was rousse, which 
 had largely contributed to her successes in the land 
 of dark tresses when she called to her side a girl 
 of about ten years, who was being educated with 
 her own daughters. 
 
 " Come here, Ninette," she had said, " and speak 
 English to Monsieur." 
 
 " How do you do ? " said Ninette, gravely exe- 
 cuting the first position. She was a pale child, with 
 great luminous eyes and a low voice. 
 
 " Ninette speaks English very nicely. Say 
 something more," continued the Marchesa, encour- 
 agingly. 
 
 " I like you verie much, sire," said Ninette. 
 
 The Marchesa played for a moment with the 
 girl's hair and then dismissed her with a smile. 
 "There, that will do," she said. She quickly 
 wearied of any new form of entertainment. " Run 
 away now." 
 
 "Is she a relative?" asked Norwood, fain to
 
 28 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 show interest in anything that concerned his be- 
 loved. 
 
 "Not at all, not in the least. "Why do you 
 ask ? Do you think she resembles the Marquis ? " 
 
 Norwood opened his eyes. 
 
 " No," said his fair friend, smiling, " my hus- 
 band brought her to me one day and said : ' Here 
 is the child of a dead friend ; be good to her,' and 
 I've been good to her. She's a gentle creature, and 
 she amuses the children. She remains." 
 
 " You are an angel " began Norwood, hotly. 
 
 " I think so, too," continued the Marchesa, " for 
 entre nous, mon ami" and she leaned down to 
 Norwood under an outspread fan, while her violet 
 breath passed through his hair " entre nous, I 
 shouldn't wonder if she was one of the Marquis's 
 own ! " 
 
 As the lady laughed, Norwood, in his lately as- 
 sumed role of an American man of the world, felt 
 called upon to laugh too. But it must be conceded 
 that his merriment was somewhat forced, and that 
 his ancestry rose and cried out rather loudly under 
 his waistcoat. His taste was offended, his morals 
 scandalized, but he would have died rather than ad- 
 mit it to himself. He laughed the empty, soulless, 
 perfunctory laughter convention imposes upon us, 
 and persuaded himself it was a hearty indorsement 
 of these large-minded foreign methods. This ab-
 
 A PCJIUTAX PAGAX. 29 
 
 sence of all jealous rancor and petty prejudice was 
 superb, and what he himself immeasurably admired. 
 He wondered what the attitude of his own mother 
 or aunt would have been under similar solicitations 
 and suspicions, and closed his eyes not to evoke the 
 picture. 
 
 To-night, when he thought of Paula's "impla- 
 cable " chin, he said to himself : " She would not 
 be like the Marchesa," and he was not now forced 
 to persuade himself that it was desirable. Yet, on 
 the other hand, was it not wiser wiser, better to 
 take the poor little waif and be "good" and nurture 
 it to give the man a chance to retrieve his fault 
 than to condemn the child to a public nursery, the 
 husband to endless persecutions, and one's self to 
 scandal ? But what would his mother and his Aunt 
 Jane have said ? He laughed aloud under his hat 
 when he thought of it : " Away with the offender ! 
 Away with the brat ! " Well, after all, such senti- 
 ments were healthier, more natural, more rugged. 
 
 And Paula? With her rich voice that had 
 a masculine note in it, and yet was always low, 
 never harsh, and her father's coat wrapped about 
 her, Paula was not like any one else. She did not 
 dress up much, but how fresh and clean and whole- 
 some was her smooth cheek ! Implacable ? Ah ! 
 no. Her's was surely a magnanimous nature. It 
 was written all over her person. The Marchesa
 
 30 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 had certainly been very lovely, and it had even oc- 
 curred to him before he parted from her that 
 jealousy was not quite foreign to her nature. Of 
 course the Marquis was not a lover. He himself 
 had never been a lover to the Marchesa in the Ital- 
 ian sense ; he sometimes had wondered why. He 
 had probably missed an opportunity he had missed 
 several of the same character in his life. On 
 the whole his memory of the episode was possibly 
 pleasanter owing to this fact, which proves that he 
 had been a very cold adorer after all.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 ONE day, in walking across his study, which was 
 a large room on the second floor, and a very chaos 
 of what Honora called " infernal engineries," Mr. 
 Sorchan fell over and knocked himself against a 
 book-case. He had not seen it. He again closed 
 his right eye, with his finger tightly held over the 
 lid, and examined the offending article of furniture 
 with his left. He found that he did not even dis- 
 tinguish its outline. He was frightened terribly 
 so. His brave heart rose up in his throat with a 
 loud thump. He rang the bell quickly and ordered 
 Eoxy, whose shining visage appeared in the door- 
 way, to summon Miss Paula. 
 
 " My child," he said to her, when she was beside 
 him, " I want you to look at this eye of mine." He 
 wore glasses, and people rarely saw his eyes clearly. 
 
 Paula approached. " Papa," she said, " it looks 
 queerly, as if there was a little gray film over it. 
 Does it hurt you?" 
 
 " Order the carriage," he said, shortly, " and get 
 ready to go into town with me."
 
 32 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 The sorrel horses, with their flowing, unfashion- 
 able tails, were put into the rather countrified 
 equipage, while the negro coachman buttoned him- 
 self into his well-worn dark blue livery. 
 
 " They're a lot of idiots," murmured Mr. Sor- 
 chan, as he heavily came down-stairs and got him- 
 self into his conveyance, " and I've heard this one 
 was a brute into the bargain." Nevertheless he 
 gave the order, " Drive into the city and stop at 
 Dr. Krupp's hospital." 
 
 Old Peter touched his hat. The building was a 
 prominent and well-known one. Here the eminent 
 German oculist had for several years floated the 
 banner of his renown in a new world, where his 
 political views could not stand in the way of his suc- 
 cess. He had quarreled with his Emperor. 
 
 Paula was very silent during the drive. She 
 slipped one thin, cold hand into her father's warm, 
 thick palm, and kept it there all the way. 
 
 " Go to the private door, you fool ! " bawled 
 Mr. Sorchan to his man when they reached the 
 steps, up which troops of people, many with band- 
 aged eyes, were ascending a Jacob's ladder of mis- 
 fortune. 
 
 Peter wheeled about and drew up at the small 
 entrance on a side street. Paula and her father 
 alighted. 
 
 They were ushered into a long, narrow, dark
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 33 
 
 sitting-room, around whose walls sat and crouched 
 some twenty dejected -looking individuals, some 
 holding their heads disconsolately in their hands, 
 others dabbing at their eyes witli their pocket hand- 
 kerchiefs. Every now and then a dapper little 
 man, dressed in black broadcloth, came in and 
 swept before him, in groups, about five of these per- 
 sons together, through a glass door into a back 
 room, after which incursion the portals closed upon 
 them with a bang. 
 
 Mr. Sorchan moved uneasily in his chair. Paula 
 thought their turn would never come. It did come, 
 however, at last. They found the great physician 
 standing behind a table talking to a man with a 
 sallow face and tremulous hands. He gave them a 
 sharp glance and nod and waved them to a seat 
 close to the wall. This apartment was more cheer- 
 ful than the other one. It was sunny and bright, 
 with a big coal fire in the grate, and there were 
 some green plants at the window. 
 
 " " If," Dr. Krupp was saying to the sallow man, 
 " you persist in your present course, I can answer 
 for nothing. If, on the contrary, you reform, put 
 yourself on a strict diet, above all avoid stimulants, 
 do as I have ordered you, the left eye will be saved 
 and the right may in time improve." 
 
 " And what will happen to me if I don't ? " 
 asked the sallow man in a dogged, hopeless, dis-
 
 34: A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 cordant voice, which trembled as much as his 
 hands. 
 
 " Then, sir," said the doctor, glaring fiercely at 
 him, " then, sir, there will ensue complete paralysis 
 of the optic nerve, and, in consequence, total blind- 
 ness. Good-day." 
 
 The sallow man gave forth a gurgling sound with 
 his throat, bowed, and shuffled out of the room. 
 
 " Your turn next, Mrs. Madden," said the usher, 
 smiling. 
 
 Two ladies drew near. They were pretty, young, 
 and looked like sisters. They led between them a 
 little boy, whose eyes were concealed by a smoky 
 pair of colored spectacles. He was a lovely child, 
 with golden curls hanging over his shoulders, hand- 
 somely dressed, as were also the women who accom- 
 panied him. 
 
 " Well, well," said Dr. Krupp, unbending a lit- 
 tle, " how goes it, my lad ? " and he quickly drew 
 off the glasses. 
 
 The boy shrank, shivering a little. 
 
 " There, there, my dear baby ! Be a little man," 
 said the mother. 
 
 " I'll give you the gun," whispered the aunt, 
 lovingly laying one hand on the boy's elbow. 
 
 "Oh! oh! it hurts!" cried the little fellow, 
 squirming as the doctor turned up his long silken 
 eyelashes over his gold pencil-case.
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 35 
 
 " Does he frolic much ? " asked the doctor, con- 
 tinuing his examination through a round magnify- 
 ing lens. 
 
 " He used to before his eyes were bad," said 
 Mrs. Madden, gulping down a sob. " There, my 
 angel ! There, mother's pet lamb," and she smoothed 
 the light curls away from the white, blue-veined 
 forehead. 
 
 " "Well, let him frolic, let him frolic ; let him be 
 out of doors, but no wind, no smoke, no dust, mind 
 you. Plenty of milk and a little fruit ; not too 
 much meat ; a chop once a day." 
 
 " And the remedies ? " 
 
 " The same, the same," said Dr. Krupp, reach- 
 ing for a bottle and dropping a drop of liquid into 
 the boy's eye. 
 
 " That feels good," said the child ; " cool." 
 
 " I ain't going to hurt you," said the doctor. 
 " Why, bless me, I thought you wanted to be a 
 soldier." 
 
 " Doctor," said Mrs. Madden, " tell me more 
 definitely about the drops. The blue bottle in the 
 morning, the red one at night how many each 
 time ? " 
 
 "The same thing the same thing I told you 
 before," said the doctor, impatiently, "and don't 
 let the bandage at night with the grease be too 
 tight. Good-day."
 
 36 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 The lady looked around the room with a dazed, 
 alarmed expression, as if asking counsel and assist- 
 ance from the other patients. Her sister raised her 
 shoulders with a deprecating gesture, and the man 
 in black broadcloth hurried them out. 
 
 It was not yet Sorchan's turn. Paula rose, arid, 
 stepping across the room, touched Dr. Krupp's 
 arm. 
 
 " Well ? " lie said to her. 
 
 " When you come to papa," she whispered, 
 " please sir, oh, please, if it's very serious don't tell 
 him at once. Tell me. He's Mr. Sorchan. It 
 would kill him to have to stop his work for long." 
 
 " My young lady," said Dr. Krupp, gruffly and 
 very loud, " will you have the kindness to wait for 
 your turn ? I've got enough to do with my patients 
 without having their friends making a fuss and tak- 
 ing up my time." 
 
 Paula returned to her seat, her dark eyes filled 
 with angry tears. "What did you say to him?" 
 asked her father irritably. 
 
 " I will tell you later," said Paula, trying to 
 smile at her father. It was a showery effort. 
 
 When their turn came, it being a first examina- 
 tion, they were conveyed into an obscure closet 
 which held themselves, the doctor, and the usher. 
 A flood of greenish light was suddenly turned upon 
 Paul Sorchan's eyes and brow.
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 37 
 
 "How old are you, Mr. Sorchan?" said the 
 oculist. 
 
 " Fifty-five," answered the scientist. 
 
 " Strange, very strange, there should have been 
 no signs of senility for twenty years or more in one 
 so vigorous as yourself." 
 
 " Well, what is it ? Tell me the worst at once," 
 said Sorchan, huskily, after a longer, a conscien- 
 tious, and a very serious examination. 
 
 "Well, sir, you've got a cataract, a beautiful 
 one, sir, on your left eye. Beautiful, sir ; ripe as a 
 blown peach: just ready for operation; and an- 
 other, yes, let me see another is beginning to form 
 on the other eye, but this one, we hope, can be ar- 
 rested. They sometimes hang on that way for 
 years. I'm afraid you've been working too hard." 
 
 " My God ! " said Mr. Sorchan. 
 
 Before they left it had been almost definitely de- 
 cided that Mr. Sorchan would enter the private hos- 
 pital on the next week. Krupp refused to go to 
 people's own houses, probably lest he should not be 
 enough their master. He had quarreled with his 
 emperor because of his liberal politics, and he hated 
 monarchies ; but in his own small kingdom he was 
 a despot and a tyrant. His docile German wife 
 tremblingly obeyed his bidding, while his two 
 flaxen-haired children scampered away in terror at 
 the mere sound of his footstep on the threshold.
 
 38 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 " How long are they shut up ? " asked Paula 
 calmly of the usher. 
 
 " Oh, from two to three weeks ; that's all, miss, 
 if inflammation doesn't set in. After that there's 
 the second operation." 
 
 " The second ! " she gasped now. 
 
 "Yes. Skin forms again; has to be removed. 
 Don't amount to anything," said the dapper man, 
 glibly. " I wouldn't tell your pa about that, miss. 
 We never tell 'em at first about the second. It sort 
 of discourages them." 
 
 " Do the operations generally succeed ? " asked 
 the girl. 
 
 " Yes, miss, nearly always with Dr. Krupp. Out 
 of a hundred about ninety. Your pa ain't an old 
 man. Why, we operated on a lady of eighty-four 
 last year and she's reading her newspaper and her 
 Bible as chipper as can be. Your pa'll come 
 through, don't you fret," he said cheerily. 
 
 Paula could not trust herself to answer and 
 then they were driven home. 
 
 The next Friday afternoon this had been a Sat- 
 urday Paula and her father sat up-stairs in the big 
 room with two beds in it where he was to be oper- 
 ated upon and close to which was a smaller room 
 which had been secured for her. She was rubbing 
 the bald spot on the top of her father's head with 
 her right hand. It was a comfort to them both.
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 39 
 
 A fresh-looking German girl, with heavy flaxen 
 braids fastened by a blue ribbon, tripped in and 
 began to sprinkle the carpeted floor. 
 
 " What do you do that for ? " asked Mr. Sor- 
 chan. 
 
 " To lay the doost," said the Teutonic maiden. 
 
 By and by she came in again and dropped a 
 drop of something under the patient's left lid. 
 
 "What is it? "asked he. 
 
 " Ach ! that's the new medicine that keeps from 
 the pain," she replied. 
 
 She returned twice within a half-hour and 
 dropped in another drop. The matron of the es- 
 tablishment now entered, bustling. She was a 
 pleasant-looking person of about forty-five, in a 
 black silk dress and a cap with ribbons. 
 
 " It will be over, miss, before ever you know 
 it. They're coming now," she said, whisking brisk- 
 ly about the room, setting chairs straight and pull- 
 ing up a window shade. " We may as well make 
 the most of the light while we can get it," she 
 added. " It will soon be blacker than night here 
 after your pa's been done." 
 
 " Done to death," thought Paula, who felt as if 
 she had signed her father's death warrant. 
 
 Dr. Krupp's voice was heard in the hall, loud 
 and angry. He was scolding some one. 
 
 " Dr. Krupp seems to have a very bad disposi-
 
 40 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 tion," said Paula. She rather enjoyed making this 
 remark. 
 
 "He's violent, yes," said the matron, imper- 
 sonally. " One may say very. He's an autocrat. 
 Sometimes it's a crease in the hearth-rug, a pin on 
 the floor, and he's oil like that, quite terrible. But 
 you get used to it. I don't mind him, and then 
 he's got genius. It's in his fingers," and the matron 
 turned up one of her hands and moved her fingers 
 about. " He's kind to the poor, too." 
 
 "I suppose he's a Communist," said Paula, a 
 trifle aggressively, "and thinks all decent people, 
 clean people, ought to be done away with." 
 
 Just then five gentlemen filed into the apart- 
 ment, Dr. Krupp, his assistant, and three students. 
 
 " Now, my young lady," said the terrible man, 
 "you just step back for a few moments. Mrs. 
 Nott "Mrs. Nott was the matron " stay by Miss 
 Sorchan." 
 
 " Thanks," said Paula, coldly, " I require no sup- 
 port." 
 
 " Now, then, sir " 
 
 After a moment Paula heard her father cry out. 
 " Oh, the pressure ! the pressure ! " Then there 
 was a pause, and then again, "Aie! Aie ! Doctor, 
 let me up let me up ! Ugh ! Ugh ! What a ter- 
 rible pressure ! " 
 
 " Yes, but no pain," said one of the students
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 41 
 
 oracularly, " thanks to the cocaine. It used to be 
 quite dreadful." 
 
 " How many fingers do you see now with the 
 left eye ? " cried Dr. Krupp. 
 
 " Three." 
 
 "And now?" 
 
 " One." 
 
 "And now?" 
 
 " Five." 
 
 "Miss Sorchan," said the oculist somewhat 
 dramatically, "your father has just been success- 
 fully operated upon for cataract. Come and em- 
 brace him." 
 
 Paula fell over the bald spot, upon which she 
 fastened her lips, anointing it copiously with a flood 
 of fast falling tears. 
 
 " Would you like to see the cataract; Miss ? " 
 said the assistant with an insinuating intonation. 
 " It is an uncommonly perfect one. If so, just step 
 up to the window, please, and I'll show it to you." 
 
 He thought Paula pretty and considered it the 
 distinguishing trait of a man of the world never to 
 neglect his chances with the fair sex. 
 
 " No," said Paula, shuddering and not look- 
 ing up. 
 
 He bit his blond mustache and came to the con- 
 clusion she was too dark for his taste. 
 
 The joyful news was carried down to Mrs.
 
 42 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 Charles Sorchan, Paula's aunt, the widow of her 
 father's only brother, and Honora, and Mrs. Sor- 
 chan's French maid, who were holding a whispered 
 conclave in the waiting-room below. Telegrams 
 were dispatched to one or two anxious friends. In 
 the evening Paula received a note and a gift of 
 roses and lilies from Norwood. He had been more 
 than kind to her all through this, her first great 
 trouble, and during her three weeks' sojourn at the 
 hospital in darkness and gloom he sent her almost 
 daily splendid flowers and cheering missives. His 
 letters were of the kind which women keep, first in 
 the breast of their gown, then in their pocket, 
 finally in a desk safe. Why ? What makes the 
 value of some person's epistolary communications 
 so great, so much greater than that of others as 
 painstaking and as kindly ? Is it a mysterious gift 
 of sympathy or only a trick of taste ? Certain it is 
 that the mere sight of one envelope causes us a 
 pleasurable exhilaration ; another, a leaden sense 
 of weariness. 
 
 Paula was very grateful for the letters and the 
 flowers. Her aunt Amy, too, was extremely de- 
 voted to her. She Mrs. Sorclian was a wealthy, 
 childless widow, a native of Boston. She inhabited 
 a fine mansion in a quiet, tree-shaded square. She 
 went little into society and was engrossed in her 
 books and a few good works. She was, however, a
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 43 
 
 clever, shrewd, breezy person, not devoid of a cer- 
 tain worldliness and insight. She had deplored her 
 brother-in-law's supineness in not presenting Paula 
 in society, and had on one or two occasions offered 
 her services. But her expostulations and sugges- 
 tions had been received with indifference. Her 
 brother-in-law had always replied vaguely that 
 Paula was happy. It was she who thought that he 
 might better have married again. 
 
 After the three weeks it was found that the 
 second operation could not yet take place. There 
 seemed to be some inflammation. It never took 
 place. 
 
 " Your father grows etiolated by the long con- 
 finement," said the house physician one morning. 
 "It's queer, too. I've talked it over with Dr. 
 Krupp and his nurse. We think he had better be 
 driven home. The change of air will do the system 
 good, revive him and the eye will be benefited. He 
 will not need the hospital doctors for a week or 
 two. His own family physician from the Heights 
 can attend to him." 
 
 So they went home again, and Paula did not say 
 adieu to Dr. Krupp. She had never spoken to him 
 since the day he had been so rough with her, merely 
 exchanging with him such necessary words as his 
 directions necessitated. Like all strong, sincere 
 people Paula was not quick to forgive.
 
 4A A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 Mr. Sorchan looked like a sick giant lying on 
 his bed in his own room, with the sheet drawn over 
 his body and the bandage across his brow. He was 
 ill now in other ways. He could not digest. Ac- 
 customed to an active life of brain and nerve, the 
 enforced confinement was killing him. He was 
 sometimes irritable, although he had borne the 
 operation and the hospital with an immense pa- 
 tience. Like all men who write a great deal and 
 late into the night, he had formed a habit for stimu- 
 lating the mind. He was an enormous consumer of 
 tea. "That's the best tipple," he used to say. It 
 acted upon him like an inspiration. He was very 
 cross one evening because the male nurse had made 
 a mistake and given him of the wrong brand. 
 There was a particular box labeled " Papa's Tea " 
 by Paula, which was kept for his special use. It 
 had a highly aromatic flavor, which other people 
 usually disliked. Paula heard his complaints and 
 was in despair. She reproved the carelessness of 
 the domestics, flew down herself to the kitchen, 
 made some of the right tea, and brought it up with 
 a flushed face to her father's bedside. He turned 
 upon his side, his free eye upon her, and followed 
 her every movement with a look of grateful affec- 
 tion which lingered with her through life. Such 
 things are indelible. 
 
 " Thank you, my little girl, thank you. You
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 45 
 
 are very kind to your poor papa," lie said, and lie 
 approached his parched lips to the cu]^ she held, 
 while supporting him in her strong, young arms. 
 
 " It tastes like nectar to me," and he smiled at 
 her. Ah, that last smile ! lie expired in the night 
 very suddenly. At least so every one said. 
 
 The most gradual, slow and insidious things 
 have their shock, the ultimate. 
 
 Many distinguished persons attended the funeral. 
 The press rose up as with one voice to do him 
 honor. Dr. Krupp rarely read the papers ; he was 
 too busy. Then they always -infuriated him. 
 Hearing nothing from his patient he concluded he 
 was doing well. One day, however, as he was out 
 driving he pushed out as far as the house by the 
 river, just to see how the eye was progressing. 
 Roxy opened the door for him. 
 
 "Mr. Sorchan?"he asked. 
 
 " The Lord bless us ! " said Eoxy, blanching 
 through her black skin. 
 
 " Why what ? " said Dr. Krupp, a trifle agi- 
 tated. 
 
 ""Why, the Lord have mercy on us, sir. The 
 master was buried this day week." 
 
 With an ejaculation he hurried back to his 
 
 "Here," he said, turning and fumbling in his 
 vest pocket for his card, " give this to Miss Sor-
 
 46 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 clian : tell her, tell her " But he could not find a 
 word, and drove away. 
 
 It was, nevertheless, entered into the books that 
 on May 27, in the year of our Lord 18 , Paul Sor- 
 chan, scientist, was successfully operated upon for 
 cataract by Hermann Egbert Krupp, M. D.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 PAULA'S grief was deep, not loud. She was one 
 of those rare women who have the modestj of suffer- 
 ing. Refinement, high-breeding, dignity, are prob- 
 ably never better proved than in bereavement. A 
 vulgar soul can not afford to be sorrowful any more 
 than it can afford to be merry. I mean that in both 
 emotions its inherent vulgarity is betrayed. It is 
 petty, selfish, exclamatory, grotesque. 
 
 " She is strangely sustained," said Mrs. Charles 
 Sorchan, sitting one afternoon on the portico with 
 Norwood, a few weeks later, and speaking of her 
 niece. 
 
 Mr. Sorchan had made his will before he had en- 
 tered Dr. Krupp's hospital. Norwood was execu- 
 tor of the estate. The house was Paula's, and then 
 her mother's legacy had rolled up. The patent too 
 had brought its meed of ready money, so Mr. Sor- 
 chan had left a very nice little fortune ; Paula would 
 be well off. Nothing as to her future was as yet 
 decided. She would probably live with her aunt.
 
 48 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 She had no near blood relatives. At present her 
 aunt had moved out to the Riverside. 
 
 " She's wonderfully sustained." 
 
 Norwood thought so too. 
 
 " Early youth," he said somewhat sententiously, 
 " is elastic." 
 
 He had been surprised at the girl's absolute 
 composure. It was hardly natural. She came out 
 now on the porch, looking very tall in her black 
 gown. She shook hands with him and sat down 
 near him. Her aunt made an excuse and went 
 into the house. Paula expressed herself as being 
 tired. 
 
 " I have just been in town," she said, " and feel 
 quite worn out." She was very pale. 
 
 " Let me ring for some tea for you, Miss Sor- 
 chan," said Norwood, springing up. " It will rest 
 and refresh you." 
 
 When the tea was brought Paula offered him a 
 cup, and, helping herself, began to turn the spoon 
 about listlessly. She raised it to her lips, but sud- 
 denly cried out as if something had stung her, and 
 violently thrusting the cup away, exclaimed, " It's 
 papa's tea ! It's papa's tea ! How dare they touch 
 it ! " and ran into the house. 
 
 He followed her in time to find her prostrate 
 upon the faded yellow sofa in the drawing-room, 
 her whole body convulsed and racked by sobs,
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 49 
 
 which she tried in vain to stifle, forcing her hand- 
 kerchief upon her lips. 
 
 "He said ... He said, 'My little daughter' 
 ... He said . . . ' It is like nectar,' and he turned 
 the eye, the well one upon me ... the other ". . . 
 and the sofa shook with her agony. 
 
 Very pale himself, Norwood leaned over her, 
 passing one arm about her shoulders and half sup- 
 porting her close to his breast. 
 
 "There, there, stop! There Miss Sorchan 
 Paula dear one," and he soothed her gently. He 
 was profoundly moved. 
 
 She looked so young, so lonely, so forlorn. She 
 turned and gazed up into his kind eyes. 
 
 "He liked the tea I made," she went on. 
 " They had made a mistake : it was abominable. 
 Oh ! He ought to have had everything he wanted. 
 He did, didn't he, Mr. Norwood." She clutched 
 his hand suddenly. " Say that he had everything, 
 that he was not neglected forgotten." 
 
 Her mouth pitifully quivering, her soulful eyes 
 burned into him. A mist came into his own. 
 
 " He had everything ; you were more than de- 
 voted to him," said the young man solemnly, hold- 
 ing the girl's hand. 
 
 By and by when the paroxysm had passed he 
 stooped and kissed her half-open mouth, drinking 
 
 as he did so of her salt tears. 
 4
 
 50 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 "Paula," lie whispered, "your father trusted 
 me ; I think he liked me. I, too, am alone. Will 
 you love me a little ? " 
 
 " Yes," she faltered. 
 
 Thus Paula's future was decided, and they were 
 married the next Autumn. 
 
 Notwithstanding her recent mourning, Paula 
 wore a veil and a very smart satin gown and orange 
 blossoms in her dark hair, and her aunt wore gray 
 velvet and white lace and diamonds. The ladies 
 had made a short trip to Paris during the Summer, 
 where some of this bravery had been chosen, and it 
 had been decided to make things as cheerful as pos- 
 sible. Some of the children who used to play with 
 her in the old days under the pear trees, now 
 grown into young women, were bidden to the chapel 
 on the heights and then were driven back to the 
 stately house which had also been dressed for the 
 occasion and transformed into a very bower of 
 roses. 
 
 " I don't call this a house at all," said a little 
 child who was present ; " I call it a garden." 
 
 The service had seemed very short to Norwood, 
 whom nevertheless it had sentimentally impressed, 
 lie promised fervently before an altar which meant 
 nothing to him, and before a God he did not believe 
 in a God whom he and Mr. Sorchan had decided 
 was a very disagreeable person to comfort and
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 51 
 
 keep this woman and to accord her absolute fidelity 
 until one of them should die. A band of music 
 hailed their return with the wedding march in the 
 hall. 
 
 Later, as there were quite a number of young 
 people, a Sir Eoger de Coverly was formed, Paula 
 and Norwood leading. All admitted that she had 
 never looked better than on this day, and that she 
 made an interesting bride. Norwood's mother 
 thought her qnite charming and kissed her a great 
 many times. She had brought her husband who, 
 although extremely bored, was very civil, and the 
 young brothers and sisters, full of curiosity and ex- 
 citement. She herself was a blooming woman in 
 early middle life. As they danced up and down 
 the room Paula laughingly holding back her veil, 
 the resemblance between herself and Norwood, 
 which Mr. Sorchan had noticed, was commented 
 upon by several of the guests. Norwood's mother 
 was struck with it, and the children exclaimed : 
 " The living image ! " with much delight and glee 
 at this wonderful discovery. 
 
 " Are you alike in disposition, too ? " asked the 
 bridegroom's mamma, looking smilingly from one 
 to the other. 
 
 " "We are both rather reserved, perhaps," he said. 
 
 " Dear Paula," said the mother, and again kissed 
 her daughter-in-law.
 
 52 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 Yes, she thought her charming, and it was also 
 pleasant that there was an income. Even the Puri- 
 tan matron has no dislike to these solid assurances. 
 
 Norwood's first request of his wife after their 
 marriage was that he should be permitted to pur- 
 chase the house from her. " I prefer," he said, 
 " that our home should be mine. We will always 
 keep it, for I like the place." 
 
 " Why, is it not all the same ? " she asked 
 naively. 
 
 He pressed her fingers. " Yield to me, dearest, 
 in this," he said. So she signed the deed conveying 
 the homestead to her husband. He invested double 
 its worth for her in railroad shares which yielded 
 handsome dividends. They concluded to make it 
 their permanent residence. 
 
 " Only fancy, Nelly," said a young girl, driving 
 home from the wedding with her parents and her 
 cousin " only fancy little Paula Sorchan being 
 married before any of us ! " 
 
 " And to such a man ! " said the cousin. 
 
 " Yes, he's quite fascinating." 
 
 " Perfectly maddening ! " 
 
 " Silly girls," said the mother. 
 
 " He's a very shrewd fellow," said Prof. Joyce, 
 the father of the first girl, and one of the faculty of 
 a great university. " He'll make his fortune before 
 he gets through."
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 53 
 
 " Fancy ! " said Mrs. Joyce. 
 
 " He has a reputation and his small heap already, 
 I imagine," said the Professor. "He made his 
 mark on that Kell telephone case." 
 
 " You don't say so ! To be sure I've seen in 
 the papers that he was a fine speaker." 
 
 " He's fascinating," repeated Nelly. 
 
 "How do you think Paula looked?" asked the 
 other girl, dubiously. 
 
 " Eather well," said Nelly. " II ow tall she is ! 
 She's really fine looking now, has quite an air and 
 looks brighter, more like other people. She used 
 to be so serious, so old fashioned. It's very funny. 
 I think they look alike." 
 
 " So they do ; but he's much the better-looking." 
 
 " Oh, much." 
 
 " Paula must be well off," said the mother. 
 
 " Sorchan's been a public benefactor," said the 
 Professor. " He was a great man. It would be a 
 disgrace if any child of his ever came to want." 
 
 " I saw no evidence of impending destitution 
 to-day," said Mrs. Joyce, laughing. " It was quite 
 a swell affair." 
 
 " Did you really think so ? They struck me as 
 rather a queer lot of people," said Nelly, who was 
 the fashionable cousin of these unfashionable people 
 whom she delighted to torment by such comments.
 
 54 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 She had gone up to this " queer " wedding, having 
 known Paula formerly, out of curiosity, with the 
 amiable and commendable intention of ridiculing 
 everything. But Norwood and his mother and 
 Mrs. Charles Sorchan's diamonds, and even Paula 
 herself, had, on the whole, impressed her, and she 
 had found no great scope for her favorite pastime 
 of depreciation. 
 
 " Some of the most brilliant talent of the coun- 
 try was there, Miss Nelly," said the Professor, with 
 a grim smile. 
 
 " Oh, uncle ! you know perfectly well what I 
 mean. Paula never did go into the right set." 
 
 " I don't think she ever went into any set," said 
 the other girl, who was fully aware that her own 
 coterie was, in Nelly's eyes, deplorably undesirable, 
 composed largely of " detrimentals " and " frumps." 
 
 "She's married well, nevertheless," said Mrs. 
 Joyce, with a sigh, "and without any parties or 
 low-necked gowns or bother. I don't see," and she 
 glanced a trifle maliciously at her niece, " that the 
 girls who drag out year in and year out and wear 
 themselves and their mothers to the bone, do much 
 better." 
 
 This home thrust was efficacious, for Miss Nelly 
 had been " out " four seasons. The historic worm 
 had turned and bitten. The subject was allowed to 
 drop.
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 So these young people started hand in hand on 
 their voyage. They were to meet such tempests, 
 to be tossed on such waves of woe, to be cast away 
 on such dreadful reefs, that my heart fails me and 
 my hand falters at the thought of all I have to 
 record. Yet it is a true story I am telling, and its 
 truth must commend it to those who shrink faint- 
 hearted at a picture of calamity. 
 
 Girlhood is generally called a season of romance 
 and illusion ; but I doubt if any girl past her ma- 
 turity entertains the wild, crude ideas of marriage 
 that does the average bachelor of thirty or forty. 
 It is probable, to be sure, that he has assisted at a 
 thousand marriage shipwrecks, if he has not himself 
 hastened them; that he has seen, heard, and read 
 endless stories of the risks and ennuis of the con- 
 nubial condition, nay, he has probably himself made 
 feeble jokes at the expense of the benedicts of the 
 community and laughed with the rest at the mis- 
 fortunes and follies of Imsbands in general. Let
 
 56 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 others, however, but allude to his own possible 
 nuptials and his face becomes transformed into an 
 imbecile ingenuousness, his head wags from side to 
 side mysteriously, and he will assure you that " with 
 him " all these gloomy aspects of the matrimonial 
 venture shall presently vanish. 
 
 " In my case," he says, " it will be different." 
 
 He knows ; she will know ; they will know. 
 "Bah! Idiots!" 
 
 If he could only have warned these broken spars 
 wherein their danger lay ! Too late ! They failed 
 to consult him. First of all Jie has respect for an 
 oath, for plighted faith. Other men, "the fools," 
 who don't understand the delicacy, the purity of 
 women. . . . Again the smile, the triumphant 
 movement of the head. 
 
 Probably this unmarried belief in himself is 
 one of the most beautiful and edifying spectacles 
 this llase old world still presents to us. No girl, 
 however innocent and ignorant, ever feels quite as 
 secure. A bachelor once said to me : " I have never 
 seen a married couple look at each other as if they 
 even remembered anything pleasant." I do not 
 know to what pleasant things he referred, but I do 
 know that he was fully persuaded that if he could 
 have wedded the woman he adored as she was the 
 wife of another they could not very well be united 
 at that moment they would have looked at each
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 57 
 
 other often, within the proper focus and with a 
 suitable emphasis, for the rest of their natural lives. 
 
 It is therefore possible, nay, probable, that Nor- 
 wood expected more of marriage than did Paula. 
 "Will it be very ungallant to the latter if I say that 
 he was just a little disappointed ? 
 
 It will be remembered that he had concluded 
 that she would be imbued with a delightful mixture 
 of Southern fire and of New England common 
 eense. At close quarters, however, the fire was 
 found to burn a trifle pale, and at the best waver- 
 ingly and uncertainly, while the common sense was 
 not quite as accentuated as he could have desired. 
 In fact, she often seemed to him childishly sensitive 
 and proud. After months, even years, of marriage, 
 he felt as if he did not know her intimately. There 
 was something in her that evaded him, something 
 elusive. This might have been pleasantly piquant 
 if it had not somewhat wounded his vanity. She 
 actually made him feel not absolutely sure of him- 
 self. To sit opposite a young creature whose large- 
 eyed silences convey the suggestion that she is 
 judging one has its drawbacks. She rarely flattered 
 him, it must be admitted, and he had been accus- 
 tomed to a good deal of flattery from her sex. He 
 was too much occupied, and too seriously, to miss 
 it very much. It is only idlers to whom flattery 
 becomes of paramount importance. When one
 
 58 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 knows one is useless it is pleasant to be constantly 
 reassured as to one's value. Perhaps he was too 
 much occupied to think deeply enough of affairs of 
 this sort. Nevertheless he did wish his wife was 
 more demonstrative. He remembered the seal of 
 their engagement, plighted in tears, and knew that 
 her feelings were deep ; but, after all, lighter ones 
 more freely expressed did better for every-day pur- 
 poses particularly for a busy man. Of course one 
 did not lose one's father more than once, and yet 
 one might show up a trifle more to a fellow. He 
 did not realize how could he? that Paula was 
 still dazed, astonished, in dreamland, not yet awake, 
 not yet fully a woman. 
 
 Pier bringing up had been peculiar. She was 
 unusually unsophisticated. Marriage, this new 
 strange life, had been terrible to her, though sweet; 
 but to him she said nothing. It is probable that 
 she, too, thought him cold, and again too warm. 
 It was unfortunate that they were both naturally, 
 as he had himself said, reserved. It would have 
 been much better for Paula to have married a man 
 who expressed more than he felt, charmed her 
 poetic temperament with the floods of his eloquence, 
 carried her off her feet. But such eloquence as 
 Norwood possessed he reserved for the court-room. 
 One must harbor one's forces. Or, again, perhaps 
 it would have been as well for her to wed a jolly,
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 59 
 
 good-natured fellow who would' have met her seri- 
 ousness with light caresses and healthful laughter. 
 A lady once in my presence aske.d another, who had 
 several step-daughters nearly her own age, if she did 
 not find the situation extremely difficult, and how 
 it was that she " got on " so smoothly. It required, 
 no doubt, special gifts and graoes, great diplomacy, 
 astuteness, tact. 
 
 " Oh no," was the quiet answer. " I take them 
 simply." 
 
 I was struck, I remember, with the wisdom of 
 the reply. It is possible that it would have been 
 wiser for Paula and Norwood to have taken each 
 other more " simply," but simplicity is not an 
 American virtue. It was a strange fact that his 
 letters had always said more to her than his words. 
 She treasured those she had received from him and 
 liked to read them over. 
 
 He now had his offices in the city, whither he 
 went of a morning, returning to dine at home. His 
 hours of absence were very prolonged. His wife 
 passed them alone. 
 
 One day a trifling incident occurred which left 
 upon Norwood's mind an unpleasant memory. He 
 never succeeded in entirely effacing it The wounds 
 to our vanity survive those to our affections. As 
 he entered his gate he heard Sophia call out to 
 Roxy, whose pink calico was visible fluttering in
 
 60 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 the adjacent shrubbery : " Bless you' heart ! What 
 you cavoorting so fo' with head on th' earth and 
 tail in th' element I " 
 
 " Ise picking a posy for Miss Paul," cried 
 Roxy. 
 
 It must be conceded a caudal appendage would 
 have been a very fitting completion to Roxy's pe- 
 culiar style of beauty. 
 
 " Here, I'll help you," said Norwood. 
 
 Several white domestics had been added to the 
 establishment, and there were now horses and a 
 brougham and a T cart in the stable, but Roxy and 
 Sophia had been kept, as well as Honora, who had 
 been nurse to Paula's mother and could not be dis- 
 carded. 
 
 Norwood took the posy from the heated maid, 
 added a few flowers he pulled himself, and went to 
 meet Paula, who the servants told him was walking 
 in the garden. He found her tying up her rose- 
 bushes she still liked to work among the flower- 
 beds. Gyp was sitting on his haunches, with his 
 head on one side, one ear up and one hanging down, 
 watching her. As Norwood came up she had her 
 back to him. With a heart overflowing with an 
 unusual warmth he came on tiptoe behind her, 
 threw his arms quickly about her, turned her 
 around rapidly, and began to cover her eyes and 
 her mouth with kisses. He held her very tightly
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 61 
 
 close against him in a tenderness that was almost 
 violent. She was so amazed that she was passive ; 
 but in a moment she began to struggle to free her- 
 self. The more she did so the tighter he held her 
 in his grasp. Then, suddenly stamping her foot 
 angrily, she doubled up her hand and struck him 
 upon the breast. 
 
 " Stop 1 " she cried. " I hate it." 
 
 He released her instantly. She stood in front 
 of him with flaming cheeks, trembling. 
 
 "I beg your pardon," he said coldly, hurt be- 
 yond measure. 
 
 To Paula this sudden, inexplicable rush of af- 
 fection was it affection? was offensive. Had it 
 been won to her by a look, a word of her own, or 
 from her by a gentle caress, she would, oh, how 
 gladly, how willingly, have nestled against his heart ! 
 But taken unawares, when her senses were asleep, 
 forced into a proximity which killed all magnetism, 
 devoured with kisses which seemed almost brutal, 
 she was filled with a sudden revolt and anger against 
 the man who took as a right what he should have 
 craved as a boon. 
 
 Norwood was simply stupid. He really knew 
 women hardly at all. He had found her in one of 
 those moods when a woman must be either left 
 alone entirely or cajoled and petted into feeling. 
 He misunderstood. Many men have before, and
 
 62 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 the unerring instinct which a great love gives was 
 not his. The fact was he did not entirely love her, 
 and the girl dimly, vaguely felt the want, wonder- 
 ing. He had never loved, nor her, nor another. 
 Love was to be taught him by a rude master. lie 
 had married her because she was interesting, pict- 
 uresque, clever. It would be delicious, he had 
 thought, to open all of life to her, all of its un- 
 tasted experiences, but somehow the process seemed 
 to be growing a little gray. On this particular oc- 
 casion it would have been pardonable for Paula to 
 act a part, nay advisable. A simulation of feeling 
 might have been wise ; in lovers such perfidies may 
 be excused. No one likes to be snubbed, particu- 
 larly in an elan of sentiment. Had she been older, 
 more wary, anxious to fix her husband, to win a 
 love which was not quite fully hers, but which was 
 worth the having, she would have met his advances 
 differently. But the sincerity of early youth, while 
 admirable, is apt to be a little ponderous. It ac- 
 cepts no conditions and offers none. It is rarely 
 successful in what it aims at, if, indeed, it has any 
 aims. 
 
 Paula was floundering. She did not know what 
 she desired, or thought she did not, which is the 
 same thing. She desired to be adored ; all young 
 things do. This irrelevant, vehement demonstra- 
 tion in the garden what was that ? I regret to say
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 63 
 
 that Paula waited until her husband had reached 
 the landing of the upper hall that evening to slam 
 her door within two feet of his nose and shoot a 
 harsh bolt. At dinner he had manfully, as he 
 thought, resisted her shy efforts at conciliation 
 she must be taught a lesson and possibly this was 
 her revenge. Now the click of bars and bolts is, 
 probably, to a man of sense and refinement prefer- 
 able to a martyred acceptance of distasteful affec- 
 tion. But there is everything in the way things are 
 done. A door may be closed playfully, coquettish- 
 ly, charmingly, or harshly and uncompromisingly. 
 The latter was Paula's method to-night. Of course 
 it blew over such things must blow over, be lived 
 down and smothered. But the impression left on 
 them both was unpleasant, and Norwood's attitude 
 became more reserved than before. He did not 
 seek his young wife's confidence. As I have said, 
 he was stupid. It is the custom to speak of lovers 
 as dissemblers. But the fact remains that it is 
 marriage which generally engenders dissimulation. 
 Two shy and haughty natures, beating in its net, 
 find, sometimes, no other loophole of escape, and 
 the woman, who is usually the more inexperienced, 
 the more timid and the more sensitive, earlier cons 
 the fatal lesson. It is so easy to flout a lover nay, 
 so pleasant but a husband ! He who must be met 
 again in an hour, and with a smile, for appearance's
 
 64 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 sake, for the servants ! Marriage has this immedi- 
 ate future to face, from which escape is difficult, or 
 again the more distant, whose gained liberties must 
 mean disaster. 
 
 In his career, however, Norwood was not at all 
 stupid. Case upon case came up for him now. 
 He was early and late in the courts. Sometimes he 
 had to leave hurriedly for Washington, for Albany, 
 for the West. The world, which had noted the 
 brilliant young lawyer, now began to talk about 
 him, to extol and laud his talents. People said: 
 " He married Paul Sorchan's only daughter ; they 
 live in the country no, not in the country exactly, 
 in the suburbs, just where it is so inconvenient to 
 get at them." 
 
 Sometimes they dined in town with quiet 
 friends ; sometimes they went to the play ; but 
 Paula had never known the life of the great world ; 
 she did not crave it, nay, she shrank from it, and 
 Norwood did as his wife did. Although he had 
 seen a good deal of society, he had never been fond 
 of it at least he was not fond of routs and balls. 
 It is always the women who keep the social wheel 
 in motion. In early married life the young wife 
 invariably sets the social pace. Later, sometimes, 
 finding, perhaps, that these ties of domesticity have 
 grown mean and dwarfing, the husband wearies of 
 his temple of comfort and suddenly emancipates
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 65 
 
 himself, either drawing her into the vortex after 
 him, or, entering it alone, leaves her behind. 
 
 As yet, however, these two had no separate 
 interests. Paula had seen too little of men and of 
 things to be what is called an agreeable woman, 
 and often her thoughts were overtumultuous for 
 expression, but her companionship was intelligent 
 and appreciative. It must not, therefore, be sup- 
 posed that in these days they were actively unhap- 
 py. No, not in the least. These flecks and flaws 
 were only passing clouds, no more, like those which 
 floated over the river at evening, obscuring for a 
 moment the sun's effulgence. 
 
 These last Paula liked to watch, far where the 
 water and the mountains and the heavens met, 
 melting together into a vaporous trance. She used 
 to gaze and wonder what lay beyond those mount- 
 ains for human vision. She must ask Norwood. 
 They would take a boat some day and row up the 
 river and land on that other enchanted side, and ex- 
 plore together those distant and dreamy shores.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THEY had been married about three years. He 
 came in one day to his office, in the early afternoon, 
 flushed with the triumph of a brilliant oratorical 
 success which had crowned his morning. It had 
 won him an important lawsuit and the warm plaud- 
 its of both admirers and enemies the first lawyer 
 of the city had crossed the court-room, taken his 
 hand and shaken it in warm congratulations. Nor- 
 wood was thinking of Paula, who took a keen in- 
 terest in his career, and of how pleased she would 
 be. On his desk he found, among other letters, one 
 from a Western friend, from whom he had not 
 heard for nearly a year. It ran thus : 
 
 " I am sending you a new client. She is going 
 out your way to look after her property, which is 
 in litigation. You remember to have heard me 
 speak of Rodney, the best old fellow in California. 
 Everybody knew him. Well, he and his wife died 
 within eighteen months of each other a year ago or
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. g? 
 
 more, and his only son and his only daughter are at 
 loggerheads about the property. They both made 
 bad matches. 
 
 " Sam was an honest boy enough until he met 
 the adventuress, who has ruined him. Mrs. Brent- 
 worth married a worthless fellow of that name, 
 who proved himself to be a sot; he made her 
 wretched for a year, and Rodney paid him a round 
 sum not to molest her. She has since been living 
 at home with her parents for several years. He, 
 Rodney, made Sam the executor of his will, most 
 unfortunately, for he is raising the devil, and has 
 quarreled with his sister. I have advised her to 
 come on and look after her interests. Sam has run 
 down in every way, and he will try and cheat her. 
 There is a lot of real estate in your city Rodney 
 once took for a debt of honor. 
 
 " Look after this little lady a bit. She's very 
 sweet. She's like her mother, who was Solange 
 Conche, a French Louisianian belle and beauty. 
 
 " I told Mrs. Brentworth if she wanted to play 
 with lightning and thunder she had better apply to 
 Jupiter, so she goes straight to you. 
 
 "Faithfully yours, dear old fellow, 
 
 " GEORGE CLEMENT." 
 
 A postscript added that Mrs. Brentworth would 
 be at a certain hotel on a certain day, and begged
 
 68 A PURITAN PAG AX. 
 
 Norwood to call upon her at once. The day was 
 past. The lady must have already arrived. He 
 concluded to stop and see her or at least leave a 
 card upon her on his way home. It was a bore, but 
 could not be delayed with decency. 
 
 Norwood was a fastidious man about his person 
 and his dress. There were those who said he had a 
 foreign air on this account, for our professional men 
 are not noted for elegance of detail in the matter 
 of costume. He always kept a supply of fresh 
 linen, cravats, gloves, et cetera, at his offices, and 
 had there every convenience for making a fresh 
 toilet. Since he was to call on a lady instead of 
 going straight homeward he sought his dressing- 
 rooms and refreshed himself. On his way up he 
 stopped at a florist's and found a gardenia, which he 
 stuck in his buttonhole. He felt particularly light- 
 hearted. It was partly because of his success of the 
 morning, partly because he had made a capital 
 luncheon, and partly because it was one of those 
 rare days of early May when it is a joy to breathe 
 and every heart-beat is a pleasure, when the air 
 itself seems charged with promise. He enjoyed 
 his body to-day; his legs felt strong and elastic 
 under him, his brain clear. 
 
 When he asked for Mrs. Brentworth at the up- 
 town hotel where she was stopping, he was told that 
 she was at home. He ascended the stairs two steps
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 69 
 
 at a time, whistling a time under his breath. Yes, 
 life was extremely pleasant. He was ushered into 
 the usual hotel private sitting-room, with its hideous 
 carpeting of enormous pattern, its upholstered fur- 
 niture, buttoned in with very awful buttons, mar- 
 ble-topped etageres, gaudily framed mirrors, and a 
 clock representing the landing of Columbus in 
 white alabaster and tarnished gold. But the room 
 was fragrant with flowers ; there were some grow- 
 ing plants near the windows, which opened on a 
 balcony. A large delf bowl filled with red roses 
 stood on the hearth, and there was a vase of lilies of 
 the valley upon the table, where were also scattered 
 some books. They appeared to be novels. A pair 
 of long gray gloves lay on the sofa. A rich even- 
 ing wrap bordered with laces hung over the arm of 
 a chair, and a half-emptied box of bon-bons was on 
 the mantel-shelf. In one corner of the room a pair 
 of tiny, high-heeled slippers, narrow and elegant, 
 had been forgotten. They had a certain defiance in 
 their aspect, as if to challenge his approach. 
 
 " I wonder," thought Norwood, standing before 
 the chimney with his arms behind him, " if from 
 all these bones I could not reconstruct my animal ? 
 She is evidently extravagant with money, a gour- 
 mande, fond of flowers ; not a walker, as she wears 
 such heels, hence indolent; very careless, as she 
 leaves her shoes in the drawing-room, and "
 
 ft) A PURITAN PAG AX. 
 
 The door opened ; a lady entered. She left the 
 door ajar into a large bed chamber, which seemed 
 in its turn to open into other rooms. 
 
 " Mr. Norwood, is it ? " she said. 
 
 She spoke with a slight French accent, and a 
 lazy, soft drawl, almost a lisp ; one of those per- 
 sonal peculiarities which a woman who disliked 
 her would have called a defect, and a man who 
 did not dislike her " ravishing." The movement 
 of her eyes, which were light and long, was slo\v, 
 and all her gestures in speaking or walking were 
 impregnated with a certain languor. Her hips, 
 when she stepped, had an undulating movement, 
 and she swayed on her feet sometimes for a mo- 
 ment as if they were too small for her weight. 
 She inclined to a moderate plumpness, and was of 
 medium height. She had very young blonde hair, 
 which hung over her forehead nearly to the eye- 
 brows, and an adorable little sensual nose with 
 shivering nostril which tipped upward a wee bit 
 at its end. She was not striking in either face or 
 figure, but something breathed from Mrs. Brent- 
 worth's presence which is more powerful than 
 mere physical beauty, although women will never 
 understand it. Her first and immediate influence 
 was one of soft soothing repose, like the drone of 
 insects in hot fields at noonday, or the murmur of 
 a lullaby cooed to a sleeping cliild. Norwood's
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 71 
 
 full nervous energies, ever on the rack and strain, 
 instantly felt the lull. Mrs. Brentworth was, in 
 fact, not a nervous person herself. 
 
 He sank on the sofa by her side, after a few 
 first words had been spoken, with the feeling of 
 being caressed. Nothing, however, could have been 
 more absolutely prosaic and commonplace than 
 their conversation. She talked nearly all the time, 
 and with little reserve or restriction. She had in 
 less than half an hour given him a synopsis of her 
 entire life, pretty nearly as she had lived it ; and 
 she continued to lay before him exactly what she 
 had traveled to the East for and how she wished 
 him to assist her. I will not weary the reader with 
 their business relations, which have nothing to do 
 with this narrative. A plan of campaign was de- 
 cided upon and first of all a visit together to such 
 tracts of real estate in and out of the city as Mrs. 
 Brentworth had claims upon. Their values must 
 be ascertained and then legal proceedings insti- 
 tuted. 
 
 "It's very sad, of course," she said, "but my 
 friends advised me not to let Sam take everything 
 from me. He used to be such a nice boy, but he 
 has a bad Avife. Papa made his will some time ago, 
 before my brother married, and intended to alter it, 
 but he died after a day's illness, and so there's all 
 this fuss and trouble."
 
 72 A PURITAN PAGAX. 
 
 There was no drop of venom or animosity in 
 her this was apparent nor even a very positive 
 interest in her own concerns. It was evident that 
 Mrs. Brentworth was not a fighter. The combative 
 temper exists indiscriminately of sex, position and 
 vocation, and is not fostered exclusively at "West 
 Point. She told Norwood that Mr. Clement, who 
 was a firm friend of her father's, had advised this 
 step, and so she had taken it. 
 
 As she talked Norwood had a most peculiar 
 sensation a species of sleepiness as if he had been 
 drugged. He shook it off, once or twice saying: 
 " What ? What ? " shortly, snapping his eyes to 
 make sure he was awake, after some query of hers 
 to which he had not replied with sufficient prompt- 
 ness. Like the Frenchman, he might have said : 
 " I do not hear, I look at her speak." 
 
 Once out of her presence and in the street again 
 the exhilaration and exuberant spirits of the hour 
 before returned to him, and even more forcibly. 
 Her peculiar influence was dissipated, and he drove 
 home in the best of humors. 
 
 At dinner he casually mentioned to his wife, 
 after touching upon his morning's honors, that he 
 had a new client, a lady from the West. 
 
 It was one of his rules never to " talk shop/' 
 and although Paula knew of the larger concerns of 
 his profession its details were never unfolded to
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. Y3 
 
 her. " I like to forget my work when I cross my 
 threshold," he had once said to her. This power of 
 dismissing care is of immense advantage to men of 
 arduous pursuits. It may become imperative. 
 
 " I hope," said Paula, " I shall not be expected 
 to call upon her." She did not like to meet 
 strangers. 
 
 " Not until I know something more about her," 
 said Norwood. " Besides, I doubt if she remains 
 long. She is a Californian." 
 
 " With a twang, I suppose," "said Paula. 
 
 " "Well, no ; not exactly," said Norwood. " She 
 told me she was educated at a French convent. She 
 has a certain kind of an accent." 
 
 Then Paula would not have been a woman if 
 she had not asked the inevitable question : 
 
 " Is she pretty ? " 
 
 "Not very?" 
 
 "Young?" 
 
 " Sufficiently so." 
 
 " Sufficiently so for what ? " said Paula laughing. 
 
 But just then her dog Gyp got hold of the table- 
 cloth between his teeth, and a wine-glass fell off the 
 table. Gyp's misdoings created a momentary flurry, 
 and Mrs. Brentworth was forgotten. 
 
 Norwood, however, was not permitted to forget 
 her. For the next few weeks he saw her almost 
 daily he told himself .that he was obliged to do so
 
 74 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 and he grew to know her extremely well. She 
 was extraordinarily frank and confiding, but, al- 
 though he formed a very favorable opinion of her, 
 he did not press his wife to make her acquaintance. 
 He told Mrs. Brent worth, rather vaguely, it must 
 be supposed, that they lived " in the country." The 
 " country," like the " club," or a " business engage- 
 ment," is an efficacious sop for women. Du reste 
 Mrs. Brentworth was naturally what is called " easy 
 going." She levied few claims upon one's atten- 
 tion and accepted such civilities as were tendered 
 amiably and gratefully. She seemed to be superla- 
 tively good-tempered; nothing disturbed, nothing 
 ruffled her. She was always calm and soft. Nor- 
 wood thought this calmness and softness enchant- 
 ing ; in fact, he began to think her something of a 
 siren, for the hours which he spent with her they 
 were strangely numerous acted upon him like a 
 narcotic, while those passed away from her became 
 fevered and unrestful. 
 
 At home he grew irritable and moody, com- 
 plained of headache, said he was overworked. 
 Paula urged a change of scene, an excursion the 
 summer was nigh in vain, for he insisted he could 
 not leave his affairs. She sighed and drew back 
 into herself. A shadow had fallen between them. 
 Their relations at this time grew to be very strained. 
 
 Mrs. Charles Sorchan, who was traveling with
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. Y5 
 
 friends in the mountains, wrote Paula a letter a few 
 weeks later, begging her niece to come and join 
 her. They were going to do some rough camp- 
 ing, and she thought Paula would like that. 
 
 " Since you can not go," said Paula to her hus- 
 band, " I think I will join Aunt Amy. I need 
 bracing air myself, and I have never camped out in 
 the wild, wild woods. It must be amusing." 
 
 " No," said her husband, " I can not go. I will 
 run up for you in a few weeks and bring you 
 back." 
 
 With his habitual courtesy he took her to the 
 station, and saw her and her boxes and Honora 
 safely stowed away in the train. They parted affec- 
 tionately enough. He bade her " take good care " 
 of herself, and pressed her hand as if with a certain 
 compunction. He even noticed how distinguished 
 his wife was in appearance, and felt proud of her. 
 
 Paula was naturally brave. "All will come 
 right," she thought, as the train moved away. 
 " He is not well." She was a highly strung per- 
 son, but never lachrymose, hysterical or fanciful. 
 
 With Norwood the compunction did not last 
 long. His emotions at this time were not nor- 
 mal; from a man who is drunk we do not exact 
 such. 
 
 Well, the next day was a Sunday, and he re- 
 mained in town at his club, where he had a room,
 
 76 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 and he and Mrs. Brentworth her name was Mabel 
 went to church together. She was what is called 
 "High Church." Her religion was a sort of com- 
 promise between poetry and convention it was 
 free from the very faintest admixture of any true 
 spirituality. A chapel was therefore discovered 
 where the clergyman was a " priest" arid was called 
 "Father," where there were candles and acolytes, 
 and incense which smelled very nicely, and flowers 
 upon the altar which made the air redolent and 
 heavy with fragrance, and music which sounded 
 far away and melancholy. To him it could make 
 no difference ; it was all the same. 
 
 Mrs. Brentworth seemed devout. She went 
 through all the long service understandingly and 
 conscientiously, falling on her knees and rising 
 again, bowing her head reverently, and joining in 
 the hymns with the cadences of her slow, lisping 
 words. 
 
 It was very hot. By and by she produced a 
 fan from among her draperies she wore a delicate 
 gray gown with some creamy laces at the breast 
 and sleeves ; she always seemed to have a bit of 
 lace about her somewhere she dressed beautifully, 
 Norwood thought and she swung the thing back- 
 ward and forward before her face. Her cheeks 
 were of a deep rose pink from the heat. As it 
 moved to and fro it brought a whiff of orris and
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 77 
 
 of violets to Norwood's nostrils. They quivered 
 with pleasure and he breathed quickly. Yes, it 
 was all the same, here or elsewhere, for as she 
 prayed or sang he watched her, his eyes fastened 
 upon her hair, her hands, her garments. He sat 
 much too near to her, and he knew it. He should 
 have kept a more respectful distance. But he 
 found himself incapable of making a movement. 
 He seemed nailed to his place. A lady who sat 
 behind them noticed this and thought indulgently, 
 "Probably just married." Hers was a pious and 
 simple soul. 
 
 It is possible that Mrs. Brentworth was per- 
 fectly cognizant of those dark eyes upon her 
 dark, though Paula had said they were lighter 
 than hers. If she was it did not evidently dis- 
 turb or displease her. Other men had perhaps 
 looked at her so before, and when I say this I do 
 so with no imputation upon her, no slur on her 
 past, for until now Mabel Brentworth had been 
 pure. She was simply weak and pleasure-loving, 
 and to be looked at admiringly is agreeable to 
 almost if not all women, deny it as they may. Yes, 
 it was pleasant. Pleasant to know that he trem- 
 bled when she came toward him trailing her gar- 
 ments over the floor through her rooms to her bal- 
 cony ; pleasant to feel that he started when she 
 slipped her hand into his at parting. Pleasant,
 
 78 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 ay, surgingly pleasant, full of subtle flattery, for 
 he was so very clever, even famous, and . . . hand- 
 some. 
 
 He really seemed to like her very much, really. 
 Mabel Brentworth felt herself justly honored, and 
 a moist glitter shone in her half-shut eyes. Prob- 
 ably if Norwood had been as weak as she was he 
 would have been busy digging trenches and con- 
 structing ramparts, or long since have taken to his 
 heels and fled from her. Weak men are proverb- 
 ially more prudent and timid than weak women; 
 less reckless, rash, and venturesome. They have 
 generally gauged themselves better. The opportu- 
 nities are more frequent. They have so often stum- 
 bled, tumbled, and lain prostrate ! But strength 
 which has rarely been tempted for temptation 
 after all is extremely infrequent is defiant and 
 arrogant. " What ! " it asks, " I fall ? Bah ! 
 "Write up danger signals for the coward ! " it says ; 
 " I can go just so far and then stop ! " So thought 
 Norwood, the Infallible. 
 
 When they came out of church they walked 
 home side by side. 
 
 "Your cheeks," said Norwood, "are the color 
 of June roses." 
 
 It was not a novel or brilliant speech, but it 
 made her look up at him and smile, which was all 
 that he wanted. She did not need much encour-
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 79 
 
 agement to conversation ; she was a great talker. 
 She said little that was very interesting or startling. 
 She had a certain brightness, and liked " fun " of 
 all things. She was not devoid of humor, and after 
 all, there is nothing more fatiguing than the clever 
 talker, who insists upon one's alertness and atten- 
 tion, repartee not being the American male's pe- 
 culiar province. With her there was always that 
 musical laughter, that quaint accent which set 
 Norwood's brain reeling, he knew not why. He 
 sometimes wondered what it was about her, and if 
 other men were so affected by her presence. The 
 influence fell when he was away from her, and this 
 deceived him. "It is not deep," he said to him- 
 self. "It is something indescribable which I will 
 easily break away from. Just now here are her 
 affairs ; I am obliged to be near her. It would 
 be quite impossible, ungenerous, uncourteous to 
 forsake her," and so he would seek her once again 
 and be invaded by that strange, drowsy delight. 
 In very truth he was right it was not " deep." 
 
 " Take me to the country," she said one day. 
 She had a maid, a Frenchwoman, who had also been 
 her mother's maid and had lived in her family for 
 years. Otherwise she was alone and apparently 
 absolutely her own mistress. She received letters 
 from friends in California. She had been given 
 some of introduction to persons in the East, but
 
 80 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 slie delayed presenting them. She was very in 
 dolent. 
 
 " They would probably be out of town now," 
 she said apologetically/ showing Norwood the vari- 
 ous envelopes. 
 
 " I fancy they are," said Norwood. lie knew 
 the names of some of the people, but not of all. 
 So they lay on the table or in her top drawer among 
 her things that smelled so good. 
 
 u Take me to the country for a day. Very soon 
 I must be finding a cottage at the seaside, if I don't 
 wind up matters here, or else I'll have to be going 
 back to the Slope, where I usually pass the hot 
 season." 
 
 So they went to the country. It was never diffi- 
 cult to persuade Norwood to do so. He had a 
 curious sort of pagan cult for nature. He liked to 
 be a part of it. Paula had sometimes laughingly 
 called him Pan when he lay on the hot sands by the 
 sea on his back at noonday, " baking himself," as he 
 declared, and insisting that it was delightful. He 
 also liked to meet and grapple with Nature in her 
 fiercer moods, to face wild storms into which he 
 ventured, whose whirl made him dizzy like wine. 
 He adored a plunge in high surf after a tempest, 
 his superabundant energies finding vent in the 
 tumultuous battle he then waged with the un- 
 chained elements, yet when Paula attracted his
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 81 
 
 attention to the tenderer, more melancholy aspects 
 of nature, to the beauty of wind-swept plains which 
 set her dreaming, or the sublime loneliness of 
 mountain-tops, he remained cold. She did not ex- 
 acily understand this paradox, and they had even 
 quarreled over it a little. She accused him of lack- 
 ing the perception of the beautiful after all. 
 
 So now these two " went to the country." It 
 does not much matter where it was. Any place is 
 good enough for the earth spirit's work, and it was 
 only for one day. All they knew was that they got 
 into a boat in which were a lot of people they had 
 never seen before, and sailed over some very blue 
 water, and by and by, after an hour or two they 
 were not quite sure of the time they " arrived." 
 There was a pretty pavilion which overhung the 
 water, shaded by awnings, where a light luncheon 
 could be served to them. They would be at home 
 before the dinner hour. Home, of course, meant 
 her hotel. Norwood had taken the habit of remain- 
 ing in town at his club. There were woods here 
 behind the pavilion, and a hill away from the 
 beach. It was a great frolic. Mrs. Brentworth 
 was delighted ; she laughed at everything and every- 
 body, and was well content to be once again under 
 real trees. Yes, it was a frolic, nothing more. 
 After luncheon, of which they partook in the open 
 air, on the pavilion piazza, where there were small
 
 82 A PURITAN PAGAX. 
 
 tables for transient coiners, they decided to Lire a 
 light trap and to take a drive. Their way lay be- 
 tween quiet hedgerows in lonely lanes, across allur- 
 ing woodland paths. Once during their progress 
 they were caught in a sharp shower. They tied 
 the horse to a tree and took refuge in a half-ruined 
 barn on the outskirts of a field. It was empty and 
 srnelled of damp hay, and over their heads there 
 was a granary where the grain was stored. From 
 this receptacle \vas shaken now and then a fine 
 golden dust which a passing gust swept upon Ma- 
 bel's hair. She moved to evade it. When the 
 rain stopped they sat for a while side by side on 
 the barn floor, like two children, with their limbs 
 swinging earthward from its open door. They 
 amused themselves watching the evolutions of some 
 men who far away in a meadow were trying to 
 cover up their straw stacks, and smiled together at 
 their futile hurry. 
 
 She was very gay, but Norwood had gro\vn 
 quiet. His face was flushed and he seemed warm. 
 His hair looked pretty, she said, in little damp rings 
 on his forehead. She made him take his hat off. 
 She wanted to look at it. " Yes," she said, with 
 her eyes' slow upward movement, " you look as you 
 must have looked when you were a little boy with 
 your hair all curly." He took off his hat with ab- 
 solute docility, put it on again mechanically when
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 83 
 
 she bade him, was altogether not only a little boy 
 but a little lamb, pathetically obedient and harmless. 
 And so they drove back and they had an ice, and 
 he took a glass of champagne, only one. Then tho 
 sail shoulder to shoulder, through the falling twi- 
 light. Oh, yes ! it was innocent enough no doubt, 
 but when they reached the hotel at last, after the 
 tete-d-tete drive from the landing, the man was be- 
 side himself. lie had promised to dine with her, 
 and ran to his club to change his clothes. He could 
 not think for the blood in his brain, and at best he 
 had but one idea to be away from her as few mo- 
 ments as possible, to hurry back. To what ? to 
 what ? Why, to her, of course. Why not ? She 
 was a lovely person. He respected her. Of course. 
 He was strong. 
 
 They dined in her drawing-room. It was a 
 light dinner, ending with more ices and with fruits. 
 She was a small eater and never touched wine. 
 Their coffee was sent to them on the balcony. 
 Somehow she was less talkative now, less merry. 
 A certain sadness seemed to have crept over her. 
 She had donned a thin white gown. She com- 
 plained of the heat. She must leave town now 
 soon. It was absurd remaining so late. She called 
 her maid and dismissed her for the night. 
 
 " You need not sit up for me, Aline," she said. 
 " You had a headache this morning. Go to your
 
 84 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 room. I shall stay out late on the balcony, it is so 
 warm. I shall not need you again." 
 
 The impulse was one of kindness. The maid 
 was duly grateful and retired. As they sat under 
 the stars the night fell over them both, enveloping 
 them in its hot breath. It laid its hand upon the 
 dark and light heads so close together among the 
 flowers. She did not cease to complain : 
 
 " Oh, I am so warm ! so warm ! " 
 
 Her skin shone pink and smooth through the 
 open fretwork of her crocus-colored stocking. Nor- 
 wood looked dumbly down at the little foot. She 
 lay half back amid a pile of cushions and her hands 
 clasped behind her head, with those slow words 
 dropping from her lazy lips, to be borne away by 
 the passing wind : 
 
 " And if you go away where will it be, fair lady ? 
 Surely, surely you will have pity ! You will not 
 leave us desolate yet ? You will choose some cool 
 spot near where your friends will sometimes lind 
 you on a summer's evening ? " 
 
 He spoke lightly in an unnatural voice, as if 
 trying to control some invading agitation, but he 
 leaned near to drink in her sweetness. She shook 
 her head sadly. 
 
 " What matters it where I go, Mr. Norwood ? 
 No one cares. I am quite alone. No one will fol- 
 low me. No one wants me I "
 
 A PURITAN PAGAX. 35 
 
 She turned a wistful face close to his own. 
 Then an acute temptation seized the man, a delir- 
 ium which blurred his faculties and paratyzed his 
 energies. It shook him as does the electric thunder- 
 gust the aspen which shivers and snaps under its 
 fury. It swept his soul and left it bare and sere of 
 honor, of duty, of pledges, of self-respect. Ay, 
 until these things all seemed to him but empty bab- 
 blings, weary lessons, learned by rote and invented 
 only to thwart and crush out a man's natural long- 
 ings. What were they for ? What ? He, for one 
 was sick of it ; sick of the struggle. Away, away 
 with the cold shadow that had always weighed upon 
 his every impulse ! Away ! Here was life ! Say 
 what we will, one thing alone shall save a man in 
 such a moment ; only one the spiritual graces 
 born of religious beliefs and hopes. 
 
 Norwood had none. 
 
 Oh, those baby eyes and pomegranate lips ! 
 They were life ! He touched her hand.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 IT was a short-lived madness ; very brief. The 
 rapturous freedom born of a broken law is a mirage 
 reflected across shifting waters. It lives but an 
 hour. The rule of action, duty, grim relentless 
 jailers, must need still bind the creature who would 
 escape them. Guilt is responsible, imposes has its 
 conscience and its servitude. To the man, at least, 
 the awakening was terrible, for when it came he 
 knew that he had yielded to impulse and to nothing 
 more ; a moment's interlude between desire and sa- 
 tiety. What struck him as extraordinary was that 
 she made him no reproaches. She did not seem to 
 make a great many, or forcible ones even to herself. 
 The great oak, storm bent, breaks when its heart 
 dies. The tender shoot bows to the gale and 
 springs back intact. So it seemed with these two. 
 He was pursued with regrets, harassed, tormented, 
 miserable. She dismissed the crime, and, turning 
 bravely, faced its consequences. He had never im- 
 agined that one so entirely feminine, so gentle,
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 87 
 
 could have tins force to meet the irrevocable. In 
 the crisis which followed it was she who supported 
 him. Natures which appear to us all frivolity give 
 us these surprises. When the final disclosure came 
 and he offered her the only reparation that a man 
 can offer to leave everything, his ties, his career, 
 all, and follow her she saw that he was fulfilling 
 an obligation he imposed upon himself as a man of 
 honor the word of all work must serve and that 
 his suggestion was born of a tender generosity, not 
 of the imperious command of love. Yes, she saw, 
 and if this was her punishment, she bowed to it. 
 
 As I have said, weakness has sometimes this 
 strange fortitude accorded to it from outside, some 
 prop, as it were, that the more self-reliant do not 
 find. It seemed as if an angel of pity had stooped 
 to the poor creature in this dilemma and touched 
 her with a sheltering wing. The deserving do not 
 need these heavenly succors. She positively and 
 decidedly refused that Norwood should make the 
 sacrifice, and . . . they parted. She even declared 
 that he was never to see her more that his future 
 should on no account be further jeopardized or im- 
 periled ; he owed himself to others. These guilty 
 ones looked at each other with melancholy eyes 
 across the abyss of their mutual sin, like two voy- 
 agers who have sailed side by side together through 
 a summer's day, but whom the winds of night
 
 88 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 shall drift apart and separate forever. To his 
 amazement, after the first shock of discovery and a 
 few tears, she accepted, shall I say, almost gladly, 
 what to most women would have been cruel tort- 
 ure. 
 
 She made him no reproaches, but she would 
 have been more than human if she had not looked 
 at him sadly. 
 
 With that strong practical gift which comes to 
 frail women in emergencies she thought of every 
 detail, planned every arrangement herself. A cot- 
 tage far up the great river, and some miles from its 
 shores, a few hours' journey from the city, was 
 found in a thinly settled neighborhood to shelter 
 her. Thither with her maid, Aline, who hated 
 Norwood with an undying animosity, but pitied 
 and still loved her mistress thither she went. 
 Servants were procured. A phaeton and a pair of 
 horses were put in the stable. It was a pretty 
 place enough. She liked the country. She was 
 pleased with it like a child. 
 
 There are women like that, who are always 
 children. From a fault which degrades deep na- 
 tures lighter ones rally. They keep a certain inno- 
 cence through their evil doing ; they shake the mud 
 from their garments, and it does not seem to cling. 
 Mabel Brentworth came out of the furnace wiser, 
 older, but not entirely perverted. She could still
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 89 
 
 enjoy simple pleasures ; she could still do kind acts ; 
 she was not imbittered ; she was only saddened. 
 Who knows ? A heavier sense of guilt might have 
 sunk her into greater despair despair is the worst 
 of counselors. Her sanguine flexible temper, in 
 which lurked not one drop of gall it had at- 
 tracted Norwood at first, as her confiding ingenu- 
 ousness had flattered him did not tend to that 
 dark remorse which makes a Judas. Her cheek 
 remained smooth and blooming, and she still 
 laughed sometimes in the old way. Her apprecia- 
 tion of the comic did not entirely desert her even 
 now. She was not a woman, probably, capable of 
 sustained sentiments ; she was not tragic. She had 
 had no power to defend her honor ; she lacked now 
 the audacity and activity to retain her lover. Hers 
 was the Creole temperament. A woman of greater 
 energy would have hung about Norwood's neck for- 
 ever. She released him. 
 
 I am in no wise defending her. This is only a 
 record of facts and of character. Married to a man 
 far inferior in intellect to Norwood, yet who would 
 have loved, petted, and been kind to her, the 
 mother of happy children, she would have doubt- 
 less lived and died contented and virtuous, and the 
 record of her domestic perfections would have 
 adorned her tombstone. She was the victim of an 
 untoward fate which she had no force to master.
 
 90 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 She assumed her maiden name and passed for a 
 young widow lately bereaved. When she said 
 "Good-by" to Norwood she said it forever. In 
 this she was insistent, and he did not combat the de- 
 cision. If she suffered at his acceptance of the fiat 
 she did not say so. 
 
 It therefore came about that Norwood was 
 now forced to enter upon a life of intrigue, of 
 lying, of subterfuge as repugnant to him as it 
 ever must be to such natures as have early been 
 trained to prefer the straight lines of honesty and 
 of courage. 
 
 But the lessons of perfidy are learned with 
 alarming rapidity. 
 
 In those days he found himself curiously hard 
 in the transactions of his profession ; a certain 
 harshness seemed to have come over his intercourse 
 with all humanity. One day he charged a client, 
 who could ill afford it, a fee so heavy that the man's 
 lips contracted with anxiety and his brow with 
 gloom. 
 
 " I am sure, Mr. Norwood," he said, " I don't 
 know where the money's to come from. I have a 
 large family. I am very hard up." 
 
 " You knew what you were going into, I sup- 
 pose," Norwood replied savagely, and did not less- 
 en the fee. 
 
 " He's clever, but he's hard," said the man
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 91 
 
 later to his wife, tossing sleepless, in his bed at 
 the thought of the debt. 
 
 A first moral deflection lea,ds to these honey- 
 combing processes. The sin of voluptuousness 
 walks hand in hand with that of cruelty. He was 
 growing callous. " Why not? " he said. " Where's 
 the use? It's all one." He had lost his self-re- 
 spect. 
 
 The profligate will smile at this. The action 
 will seem such a defensible one, if, indeed, it 
 requires any expiation. Men can not be all 
 Josephs. It would be absurd. Once Norwood 
 remembered the Marchesa and her " one of the 
 Marquis's own," and wondered if he was not 
 ridiculously sentimental. Because his ancestors 
 had sucked in with their mother's milk the stern 
 doctrines of a Calvin was it necessary that he 
 should be a Puritan ? He had long ago swung 
 away from those old tenets with hatred and con- 
 tempt. Then, why this misery ? After all, was 
 he the first sinner? But these were 7 his worst 
 moments ; moments when the voices of conscience 
 were dumb within him. 
 
 And Paula? 
 
 Paula had of course returned from the mount- 
 ains long ago. The winter was coming on apace. 
 She had returned to him. He had not gone to her 
 as he had promised. The first time he met her
 
 92 A PURITAN PA6AK 
 
 he had expected to be filled with repentance and a 
 tender pity at the mere sight of her, but it had not 
 been thus. He was to have gone for her to a 
 certain train one day, but she had taken an earlier 
 one, and had reached their home before ever he 
 had started for the station. He received a tele- 
 gram from her. His brougham stood ready at the 
 door of his offices and he jumped into it and was 
 driven river ward. 
 
 He found his young wife sitting on the portico 
 playing with her dog. She was throwing a stick 
 for her little pet to catch, and when he failed to do 
 so the dog whined and his mistress clapped her 
 hands and laughed. He stooped to kiss her cheek, 
 saying, " How well you look splendidly!" stum- 
 bled over Gyp and gave him a kick which sent 
 him howling under one of the columns. " Horrid 
 animal ! " he said. 
 
 He felt intensely irritated that she should be 
 playing with her dog at this moment. It was 
 pitiable. What! Was it possible she did not 
 fathom him ? Knew nothing ? Guessed nothing ? 
 It was silly, absurd ! Gyp and a stick ! It was 
 like the hare brought in before the curtain falls 
 by the unsuspecting husband in the play of Nos 
 Intimes the awed actors, the strained audience 
 palpitating with expectancy, and behold ! Un la- 
 pin ! People look at one another, and leave un-
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 93 
 
 satisfied ; the finale is grotesque. Climaxes should 
 have a less pronounced antithesis. It is bad art. 
 
 He noticed how well she looked, with a ruddy, 
 beautiful bloom born of the forest days and of the 
 sun upon her face, and he felt in that first mute 
 survey a species of dislike for her, almost of con- 
 tempt. It is difficult to love or even respect what 
 we have ourselves degraded, at least at first. The 
 betrayer has degraded the object he has betrayed. 
 Paula had lost something in Norwood's eyes. We 
 instinctively shrink from the people to whom we 
 are disloyal. Better feelings came to him very 
 soon, but they came too late. 
 
 Paula had returned well in health and hope- 
 ful. The irritable word to the dear old dog, who 
 had been her father's favorite, the chill in his man- 
 ner, the coldness in his eyes, completely unnerved 
 her. What was it? She was to ask herself the 
 question many, many times in the months that 
 followed. She was too hurt, too wounded, too 
 proud to ask him. He had forced himself to write 
 to her during her absence fairly regularly, and his 
 letters had been less wounding than his presence 
 was now. Letters at least are not accompanied by 
 a distrait manner and wandering attention. They 
 had not suited her exactly, to be sure, but she had 
 told herself that he was tired and ill. A letter we 
 receive reflects something of our own mood. We
 
 94 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 can interpret it as we like best. lie did not look 
 well although he did not complain. Paula decided 
 that she was possibly oversensitive, foolish, for 
 after their first meeting he forced himself to be 
 very kind toward her. Kind, no more, but women 
 crave more than kindness. One word can make 
 a woman's day a paradise of joy; the lack of it 
 plunges her into despair. Nothing else is of conse- 
 quence. 
 
 The man himself was so wretched that he some- 
 times thought of telling her all, throwing himself 
 upon her magnanimity, asking her pardon and 
 beginning a new life. But he \vas not yet such 
 a coward ; he still could bear his .burden alone. 
 That was well. Of the truth it need not be said 
 Paula had not the shadow of a suspicion. Never 
 once had such a thought crossed her imaginings. 
 In this thing she trusted her husband absolutely. 
 She fell back upon the theory that his health was 
 not good, and that his professional cares weighed 
 upon him ; that there was something in his affairs 
 which was preying upon his mind ; something of 
 which he could not speak. All this was of little 
 consolation. They still went about together, drove, 
 walked, sat in boxes at the theatre or opera, ate 
 their dinner, made visits. Who does not ? 
 
 In February one morning, sitting at his office 
 desk, Norwood was interrupted by the entrance of
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 95 
 
 a young boy who looked like a countryman. lie 
 was rather loutish and rough, held his head down 
 and twirled his cap about in his hands uncomfort- 
 ably. The stage has represented the type indus- 
 triously for years. It has become histrionic. 
 
 "Are you Mr. Norwood? 1 ' he asked. "I've 
 got a letter for you, sir. I was to give it to 
 the gent himself." 
 
 Norwood's heart stood still. He had not had 
 the courage to refrain from writing to Mabel a few 
 times. It seemed so brutish, so hideous. He had 
 also sent her gifts of flowers, of fruits, of books. 
 But she was pluckier than he ; she had made no 
 sign. One or two business letters she had dictated 
 through Aline. Her decision had been irrevocably 
 taken. All was well over.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 NORWOOD took the letter. It was short. It 
 was from the physician : 
 
 " MY DEAR SIR : Mrs. Rodney is very ill. If 
 she has any friends within reach I think they had 
 better be sent for at once. She is very low. 
 " Respectfully yours, 
 
 " L. WHIMPLE." 
 
 " Are you straight from the doctor's ? " asked 
 Norwood of the lad. 
 
 " Yes, sir. I am his boy as does his chores 
 and minds his horse." 
 
 " Very well. When is the next train, do you 
 know ? " He puckered up his forehead and stared 
 at the boy with what the latter thought an oddish 
 expression. 
 
 " There's one at 2.10, sir, the way train. The 
 express don't stop where I get out." 
 
 " Well," said Norwood, " here's some money. 
 You can get your luncheon in the restaurant oppo-
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 97 
 
 site. Wait for me there and we will go up to- 
 gether. I'll meet you at the do.or in three quarters 
 of an hour." 
 
 He took the precaution of telegraphing to 
 Paula that he was forced to go to Albany for the 
 night she might hear of him on a river train 
 and that he would return the following afternoon. 
 As he was interested in a bill pending in the leg- 
 islature, and Paula had heard him allude to its 
 importance, his message would not seem too incred- 
 ible to her. 
 
 Upon the train he met some friends. He had 
 avoided the drawing-room car, but for some occult 
 reason so had these men. They came up to him 
 and asked him carelessly where he was bound. He 
 had grown accustomed to lying, and boldly said to 
 " Albany." As chance would have it, and luckily 
 for him, they were stopping at West Point, so that 
 after they had dragged him into the smoking car, 
 harassed and persecuted him with idle talk, he did 
 finally shake himself free of them. He watched 
 them get out on the light fine snow which covered 
 the platform at Garrison's, and run down toward 
 the puffing ferry-boat. An indefatigable candy and 
 fruit vender, a youth of about sixteen, with a thin, 
 pale face, was plying his trade with nasal euphony 
 up and down the car. 
 
 " Buy peppermint lozenges, gents ! San Fran-
 
 98 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 cisco dried oranges ! Apples ! Bananas ! Candied 
 citron ! " 
 
 He threw his packages hither and thither, on 
 people's knees and against their breasts, which mer- 
 ciless fusilade they accepted with that Olympian pa- 
 tience which characterizes the traveling American. 
 No depth of dolor can wring a reproach from the 
 Yankee's parched tongue as he sits in heat, dust, 
 and despair, whirling along to the haven where he 
 would be. 
 
 To Norwood's exasperated nerves this continued 
 bombardment became unendurable. 
 
 " Stop," he said, with a wave of his arm, having 
 just received a box of the San Francisco oranges in 
 his shirt front. " Cease pelting me, sir, or I'll Itave 
 you arrested for a public nuisance ! " 
 
 The boy stopped, put his tongue in his cheek, 
 pushed his cap back from his brow, and said aloud 
 so that all might hear : 
 
 " I guess you're the kind as doesn't want any- 
 body to make a livin' but himself." 
 
 Everybody laughed, and Norwood sank back 
 discomfited. Sitting in his corner he said to him- 
 self that the boy was right. He had indeed lived 
 for himself. 
 
 The skies were clear. The snow flurry had but 
 sugared the fields and hills with white fluffy drifts. 
 The day had been mild, and the sun was beginning
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 99 
 
 -to sink in a red west when the train stopped at the 
 station at last. He alighted and found a rickety 
 vehicle. The driver was standing in the mud, beat- 
 ing his hands upon his breast to keep them warm. 
 The twilight was falling with a little chill. The 
 boy, his companion, called out : " Holloa, Gus ! 
 Will you give us a lift " ? and they both clambered 
 in. They drove the three miles. When they turned 
 in at the gate Mrs. Brentworth's man servant was 
 lolling against one of the gate posts looking down 
 the road. 
 
 "We thought, sir," he said, touching his hat, 
 " as somebody might be up by the train." 
 
 " How is she Mrs. Rodney ? " he asked. 
 
 " Well, sir, I can't say as she's very smart," said 
 the man. 
 
 The physician met him in the hall. Norwood 
 explained to him that Mrs. Rodney's friends were 
 all in California, that he was the only one here, that 
 she had only come to the East to see after some 
 property, etc. He wanted to save her good name. 
 But it mattered very little. He did not know what 
 he was saying, and it is probable that the doctor did 
 not heed him. 
 
 Aline came down-stairs. She had been nursing 
 her rage all day nay, for many months. She had 
 kept it well stored, surging in her heart ; and now 
 now that he was here she intended to give her-
 
 100 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 self the exquisite luxury of letting loose upon him 
 the poisoned stream of her fury. She would hurl 
 in his teeth his infamy nay, perhaps betray her 
 dying mistress to others in the pleasure of exposing 
 Norwood's crimes. But, somehow, when she saw 
 the man's face she stopped. There was something 
 in it which held her back, awed. She muttered some 
 jumbled, inarticulate sentence, wavered a moment, 
 turned, went up-stairs again, and a door closed upon 
 her. The bitter words were not spoken then or ever 
 after. She could not have said why. 
 
 " She's still alive," said the doctor. 
 
 They went in. The nurse was beside her. She 
 was propped up in the bed, and Norwood was struck 
 by the fact that she did not look very ill. Her 
 cheeks were flushed with fever, and her eyes brill- 
 iant. Her hands wandered on the coverlet. Her 
 long bright braids lay upon the pillow behind her ; 
 they were caught together with a bit of ribbon. 
 But as he approached he noticed that she breathed 
 with short, rapid breaths. Her mind wandered at 
 times a little, but she knew him at once. 
 
 " Ah ! " she said, " so you've come, Mr. Nor- 
 wood. How good of you." Then she said : " I'm 
 very happy. It's a beautiful day," and smiled. 
 
 After this she talked incessantly in low tones. 
 Several times she said, " In the fields, in the fields." 
 
 Norwood, drawing near, tried to take one of her
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 101 
 
 hands in his own, but she pushed him gently but 
 firmly away. " No," she said, " no." 
 
 Death craves this solitude. Our touch can only 
 disturb that loneliness which is its majesty. He 
 fell upon his knees, crushing the sheet against his 
 mouth. She tossed and moaned softly. He rose 
 again to his feet in a moment to follow and ask the 
 doctor if anything could be done if any great phy- 
 sician might be sent for from the city, from any part 
 of the Union. He implored him to do anything, 
 everything to save her. " Save her ! Save her ! " 
 he kept reiterating, holding the doctor's coat-sleeve. 
 But the physician shook his head. " There was no 
 hope from the first moment," he said. " She is 
 doomed. She's in extremis. It's a pity, for she 
 seems a sweet creature ; so childlike and innocent, 
 and the child is lovely." 
 
 " The child ! " Norwood had forgotten it. 
 
 " A beautiful little boy," said the nurse. " Aline 
 has him." 
 
 " Would you like to see him " ? asked the doc- 
 tor, smiling. People always smile when they speak 
 of children. 
 
 " Not now," said Norwood. He went back to 
 the bedside. 
 
 Leaning to her suddenly, he heard her say dis- 
 tinctly one word, " Prayer ! " " Doctor ! doctor ! " 
 he cried. " A clergyman ! Women care about these
 
 102 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 things. "We ought to have thought of it. There's 
 an Episcopal church here, I know. Is the rector at 
 home ? She's an Episcopalian. Quick ! Send the 
 boy for him." 
 
 In less than an hour the clergyman had arrived. 
 He brought into the sick room as he entered a whiff 
 of fresh, crisp air from the outside country. 
 
 " Peace to this house ! " he said solemnly, as he 
 crossed the threshold. 
 
 He was a young man and fair, with a fresh, un- 
 sullied face and a kind manner. He approached 
 the bed and stood for a moment looking down at 
 the dying woman. 
 
 " Dear me," he said, shaking his head from side 
 to side. " Dear me, how very sad ! " He then 
 stooped over her. " Mrs. Rodney, it is I, Mr. 
 Ilinckley. Will you say this after me ? " Then he 
 clasped his hands. " Jesus, forgive me my sins." 
 
 She looked up just for a moment, vacantly, as if 
 not heeding, but as he repeated the words distinctly, 
 " Jesus, forgive sin," she murmured dreamily. 
 
 " Jesus forgive us our sins," echoed the priest. 
 
 " The Lord have mercy upon us," said the nurse. 
 
 "Amen," said the doctor, fervently. 
 
 Then the priest knelt by the bedside : " * Out of 
 the deep have I called unto thee, O Lord ; Lord, 
 hear my voice. Oh, let thine ears consider well the 
 voice of my complaint. If thou, Lord, wilt be ex-
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 103 
 
 treme to mark what is done amiss. O Lord, who 
 may abide it ! '" 
 
 " Jesus forgive sin," said Mabel, tossing on 
 the bed ; and then a man with the cold sweat rolling 
 from his brow, with wild distraught eyes, crouching 
 on his knees, w r ith the sheet still in his clasped hands, 
 a man who was an unbeliever, a pagan and a sinner, 
 looked up and cried in a husky voice into the silence 
 of the cold starry night : 
 
 " Jesus, my God, have mercy ! Forgive ! For- 
 gi ve ! Mercy ! Mercy ! Save her ! Save her ! " 
 
 It was while the clergyman repeated the prayer 
 for a departing soul that the change came. The 
 awful shadow ; the gray, dim visitant ; and before 
 he had done, the doctor, holding her wrist, said : 
 "All is over." 
 
 Aline had entered noiselessly and unnoticed. 
 She broke forth now into loud sobbings. 
 
 Shall we not hope that the tribunal before which 
 Mabel was to be arraigned was more merciful than 
 those of earth would have been to her ? She had 
 fluttered too closely to that devouring flame in 
 which so many have been burned before. She 
 loved too much its light and warmth, and playing 
 one day too near its radiance she had lost her bal- 
 ance and fallen in and been consumed. She had 
 not been one of the fortunate ones of earth. Shall 
 we not endeavor to pity and to pardon ?
 
 104 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 The Coroner was summoned. He scented some 
 mystery, but the doctor's certificate and the assurance 
 that the lady had but lately been widowed satisfied 
 him. He couldn't be bothered an epidemic was 
 raging in the nearest village, and he was unusually 
 occupied. His business was not of the sort that 
 encourages curiosity. 
 
 Norwood returned for the funeral. To paint 
 his feelings would be impossible. I will not at- 
 tempt it. There were present only Dr. Whim pie, 
 Aline, and the other servants. The clergyman who 
 had been present at her death performed the serv- 
 ice. She was buried in a quiet graveyard in a hol- 
 low, in the shadows behind the church. After the 
 earth had been shoveled over her, the clergyman's 
 wife, a pretty, young woman, came out of the rectory, 
 close by, and threw some flowers on the newly 
 made mound. 
 
 "There was something very strange about it 
 all," she said afterward to her husband, as they sat 
 together in his study that evening, " and very sad." 
 
 " Yes, very," said the clergymen. 
 
 " That man that stranger who was he ? He 
 seemed to feel terribly," said Mrs. Hinckley. 
 
 " I don't know," answered her husband. " They 
 said it w r as her lawyer." 
 
 " What did you think ? " asked his wife. 
 
 " I don't know," he repeated again.
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 105 
 
 " I saw her in church several times. I wish I 
 had called when you did. You saw her once, I 
 think?" 
 
 " Yes," said the clergyman. " I had intended 
 going again. I reproach myself." 
 
 " Well, so I do, Arthur. She was very sweet 
 looking ; so pretty. I hear the child will stay here 
 for a while. I'll drop in sometimes." 
 
 Her husband was silent. He, too, wondered. 
 
 " It was a lonely death," he said after a while, 
 " but," he added under his breath, " death must al- 
 ways be so." 
 
 She ran and nestled against him. " Dear Ar- 
 thur," she said, " you are good ! I love you ! Were 
 you always good ? " 
 
 "I do not think there is anything in my past, 
 Alice, that would give you pain," and he smoothed 
 back her hair, smiling. 
 
 " Were you so very religious when you were a 
 boy, Arthur?" she asked. 
 
 " I felt the call early," he replied. 
 
 " Would not loving me have kept you good al- 
 ways ? " 
 
 "Love and faith," he answered. "Ah! yes, 
 they are indeed a shield." 
 
 Then she again nestled against him saying : " I 
 love you, dearest ! " 
 
 Norwood had seen the child. It was healthy
 
 106 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 and thriving ; before he left he had arranged every- 
 thing. Money is of peculiar value in cases where 
 secrecy is necessary. Norwood did not stint it now. 
 There is nothing so expensive as concealment ; but 
 fortune had favored him, so people said. He was 
 very successful and was growing rich. 
 
 When all these things were done he went home. 
 He wrote to Clement that Mrs. Brentworth had died 
 very suddenly in the country, and been interred 
 where she had died. He bade him inform her rela- 
 tives, and that of course if they desired it the re- 
 mains would be sent to California. But they ap- 
 parently did not, and save two or three letters from 
 women friends that straggled in at intervals asking 
 for further particulars, which he furnished as best 
 he could, nothing further was ever required of him. 
 
 Mrs. Brentworth had died intestate. Her brother 
 was her sole heir, which, as a natural result, brought 
 an abatement of the action. He was satisfied now, 
 and so she was forgotten, lying in the cemetery 
 under the hill.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 MRS. CHARLES SORCHAN lived the even, regular 
 life of the solitary. She was careful of her health. 
 She invariably walked four times around the square 
 every day before her breakfast, which she took at 
 twelve o'clock. Returning from this promenade 
 one morning several weeks after the events record- 
 ed in the last chapter she found her niece awaiting 
 her in the drawing-room. 
 
 " What a pleasant surprise ? " she said, advancing 
 to meet that lady. 
 
 " May I stop and breakfast with you, Aunt 
 Amy?" 
 
 " Why, my dear, of course, and you are kind to 
 come." 
 
 Paula began to pull at her gloves. She took off 
 her hat and smoothed her hair. " I felt rather de- 
 pressed, Aunt Amy. I thought I would drive in 
 for a change." 
 
 " It seems to me quite natural that you should be 
 depressed," said her aunt.
 
 108 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 " Why, what do you mean, Aunt Amy ? " 
 
 " I mean, my dear, that the way you are going 
 on is simply ridiculous, it's quite sufficient to bring 
 on a fit of the blues. You and Norwood persisting 
 in burying yourselves in that out-of-the-way house 
 is absolutely absurd. I don't wonder you are both 
 tired to death of it. Depend upon it, Paula, it's a 
 mistake." 
 
 " Perhaps you are right," said Paula, " we have 
 made mistakes." 
 
 This admission was so unlike her that her aunt 
 looked at her sharply. She saw a pair of inscruta- 
 ble eyes and a mouth whose under lip was sucked in 
 as if to conceal tumult. They adjourned in a few 
 moments to the dining-room. Sipping their choco- 
 late opposite to each other Paula asked Mrs. Sor- 
 chan a strange and sudden question : 
 
 " Aunt Amy," she said, " did you ever see an in- 
 sane person near by? I mean did you ever asso- 
 ciate with any insane people ? " 
 
 " Heavens ! Paula," said Mrs. Sorchan, laughing, 
 "I hope I have better taste in selecting my com- 
 pany." 
 
 Paula smiled, too, faintly, and they resumed 
 their chocolate and timbales de jambon. 
 
 The young woman's appetite did not seem, how- 
 ever, to be vigorous. By and by she led her aunt 
 to speak of her charities, of her philanthropic work.
 
 A PURITAN PAGAX. 109 
 
 " You go to the prisons, Aunt Amy, do you not," 
 she asked, " on your errands of mercy about the 
 city?" 
 
 " I am not exactly a Caroline Fry," said Mrs. 
 Sorchan, " but I have visited the prisons sometimes. 
 Why, my dear ? " 
 
 "Nothing," said Paula. But after a pause she 
 added : " I suppose, then, you have sometimes seen 
 those men who are criminals, who have committed 
 some terrible deed, perhaps who were soon to be ex- 
 ecuted. Aunt," she said, leaning across her plate, 
 and with a peculiar tremor in her voice, " how do 
 they behave, how do they look ? " 
 
 Mrs. Sorchan put down her knife and fork and 
 once more fixed her niece with a shrewd, penetrating 
 regard. 
 
 "Do you wish to come with me and see for 
 yourself ? " she asked. " These things give knowl- 
 edge of the world, and you know about as much of 
 the world as a lively kitten." 
 
 " No. I shouldn't have the lilt of it. I am not 
 fitted. I am hard. I have no sympathy," said 
 Paula, trying to speak lightly. 
 
 " I remember, now," said Mrs. Sorchan, holding 
 up a piece of crisp toast in her bloodless, delicate 
 hand, "I remember a visit I once made to the 
 Tombs. One of the best dressed and most gentle- 
 manly-looking men I ever saw was having his din-
 
 HO A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 ner in the Warden's room. lie was really very 
 handsome, so alert and well made, although when he 
 smiled I noted that he had cruel teeth. He bowed 
 to me very politely, but when he caught sight of 
 Quicksilver, who was tucked under my arm, with 
 his nose just peeping out over my muff, he gave 
 vent to a horrible oath. The Warden rebuked him 
 for indulging in profanity in my presence. ' I am 
 sure I beg the lady's pardon,' he replied, bowing to 
 me very gallantly, ' but the fact is the sight of one of 
 those d d little wiffets always makes me just sick.' 
 It seems the gentleman was a distinguished burglar, 
 an honor and an ornament to his profession, who had 
 lately been arrested for grand larceny, and the small 
 dog, he told the Warden afterward apologetically, 
 was the enemy of all others which lie most dreaded. 
 The mere sight of one caused him a nervous spasm. 
 * I'd rather step on a smoking petard, any day,' 
 he said." 
 
 Paula seemed but languidly interested in this 
 anecdote. 
 
 " How is your husband ? " asked Mrs. Sorchan 
 shortly. " I thought him looking poorly the last 
 time I saw him, but that's a good while ago now." 
 
 " He is not well." 
 
 " What's the matter with him ? " 
 
 " He can not sleep " Paula paused and a flush 
 mounted to her hair. " He never sleeps."
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. HI 
 
 " He's a donkey to be throwing his life away for 
 obstinacy, and you can tell him so with my compli- 
 ments. It's clear he's overdone. Why in Heaven's 
 name don't the man stop working ? Why don't you 
 go abroad ? " 
 
 ' He works early and late, and half of the night," 
 said Paula. " He says he has many important cases." 
 
 " Have you seen a doctor ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " He felt his pulse and looked at his eyes and 
 said there was some nervous depression, and gave 
 him medicine." 
 
 " And is that all ? " 
 
 Then Paula burst into tears. 
 
 Her aunt rose quickly and came and laid a kind 
 pressure upon her niece's trembling fingers. Tliis 
 was serious. 
 
 " My child," she said, " how can I help you ? I 
 love you dearly. You are all I have. You have 
 been like an own daughter to me. I think you are 
 unnecessarily troubled about your good husband's 
 health. This is a phase. Men have such. It will 
 pass. He is overworked. Insomnia is not an un- 
 common symptom with men who overtax the 
 brain." 
 
 Then as her niece did not answer she became a 
 little frightened, and said in a sinking voice, " Why,
 
 112 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 my dear, do you ever think ... do you ever 
 imagine . . . ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Paula, " I have feared everything, I 
 have thought ... it was the brain." 
 
 She talked her anxiety out a little ; not much, 
 not entirely. It was not her nature. But she went 
 home with renewed courage. She would need it 
 all. 
 
 Her aunt said to her all that women do on such 
 occasions, promised to come and see Norwood her- 
 self, gave a great deal of good advice, but somehow 
 she had a certain presentiment herself of impending 
 trouble which robbed her counsels of the firmness 
 self-confidence inspires. 
 
 In these days Paula was very womanly and gen- 
 tle with her husband. Who would not have been 
 at the sight of such suffering ? She was very valiant 
 through those somber moods of his which well nigh 
 overwhelmed her with dismay, and often through 
 the crack of the door she watched him during those 
 nights of agony when he paced his floor wringing 
 his hands, murmuring incoherent words, or threw 
 himself upon his bed, whose pillow was saturated 
 at the dawn as with the night-sweats of terrible 
 illness. 
 
 One evening, soon after her visit to Mrs. Sorchan, 
 she sought his study, the room which had once been 
 her father's, with a determination to make one more
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 113 
 
 effort, to use every artifice to persuade him to leave 
 America with or without her, as he desired ; only 
 to go, in search of rest arid health-giving change. 
 He had heretofore peremptorily refused every sug- 
 gestion of the sort. She found him sitting at 
 his table close to a shaded lamp the room was 
 otherwise in darkness one hand half over his 
 eyes, which had troubled him of late they were 
 blood-shot and congested with a book before him. 
 But he was not reading, and she saw on his 
 face that furtive look of anguish which swept 
 it sometimes when he did not know himself ob- 
 served. 
 
 She came boldly to him now, laid her hand on 
 his shoulder, and said as cheerily as possible : 
 
 " Well, dear Norwood, I've come to torment 
 you again. The same old subject, to persuade you 
 to take a trip, a voyage. I want you to listen to 
 me. Come, put up that tiresome book ; be good 
 to me." 
 
 It is probable that weeks of depression and of 
 pain had done their work, that the man's brain was 
 indeed disordered with the phantasms of his vigils 
 and of his remorse, else he surely would not have 
 been so selfish and so cruel ; for I repeat that we 
 have no right to cast the burden of our sins upon 
 others, to force their innocent shoulders to a yoke 
 
 we ourselves should have the fortitude to carry 
 8
 
 114: A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 alone. He peered up at her curiously through the 
 gloom and said : 
 
 "Are you not afraid of me, Paula?" 
 
 " Afraid of you, my dear husband ? " and the 
 tears rose to her eyes. "Afraid of you ? Why . . ." 
 
 But before she could complete the sentence he 
 shook her light touch fiercely from him. 
 
 " Take your hands off of me ! " he cried in harsh 
 accents. " Take them off ! do you hear me ? They 
 rest upon the shoulder of a murderer and an adul- 
 terer ! You will be polluted ! " 
 
 And then, as she fell back from him, tottering, 
 he told her all. He palliated nothing. He poured 
 it out with an eagerness which took away his breath, 
 gasped it forth in a torrent, and with an eloquence 
 which he had rarely reached in the triumphant 
 hours of his oratorical successes all, all. The hor- 
 rible, bitter, unveiled truth. And as he talked he 
 was conscious of two distinct sentiments. A light- 
 ening of the iron bands about his heart and brain 
 and throat, as if those tightened cords \vhich had 
 tortured and suffocated him were loosening, and 
 shall I say it ? a vague, half-formulated, half-ac- 
 knowledged hope. A hope of what ? Ay, what ? 
 Ah, this was it ! That she might have mercy. 
 Might let him in this hour of abasement and re- 
 pentance still live near to her. He needed her 
 presence, he was afraid to be alone. He had but
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 115 
 
 lately gauged her tenderness and her magnanimity. 
 He wanted them both now. Would they be taken 
 from him ? or would she be great and sublime to 
 the end ? He had forfeited all claim to her love, 
 but in the depths of his being the hope of her pity 
 stirred, giving him a fevered strength. 
 
 She was so silent blessedly silent, it seemed 
 to the man whose spent nature had reached the 
 acme of human endurance, and which needed no 
 word to brand it with the sense of its guilt yes, 
 silent. She had sunk into a seat at his first words, 
 and her chin had fallen forward on her breast. 
 Her lips were tightly set, her hands grasped the 
 arms of her chair, and her eyes had a dull fixity 
 which he could not see in the room's deep shadows. 
 
 When all was said and over, however, and she 
 still failed to look up, or speak, or make a gesture, 
 a new fear took possession of his racked conscious- 
 ness. He noted the rigidity of her attitude, the im- 
 movableness of her whole person, and told himself 
 that he had perhaps killed her killed her as he had 
 that other one who had trusted him and whom he 
 had dishonored. He rose to his feet and approached 
 her, overwhelmed by this new terror. " Perhaps," 
 he thought, "I am speaking to a corpse." With 
 this terrible suspicion strong upon him he touched 
 her arm. But as he did so she, too, sprang to her 
 feet, and he saw that it was passionate life, not
 
 116 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 death, that quivered in her limbs and distorted her 
 features. She faced and looked at him. To his 
 dying hour that look will haunt Norwood's memory. 
 She looked at him, and, raising her arms, threw 
 them out toward him as if she would have struck 
 him upon the lips, then placing her hands over her 
 ears as if to shut out some hateful sound, she sud- 
 denly darted from him, fleeing away, out, anywhere 
 only away from him ! 
 
 There was a large table at the entrance of the 
 hall, encumbered with coats, wraps, and riding 
 whips ; here she stopped. She dragged a long 
 cloak from among the others, which she fastened 
 with palsied hands by its silver clasp under her 
 chin. She turned and reached down a little fur 
 cap which hung upon a hat-rack close at hand, and 
 then, without a backward glance, she rushed away 
 down the dim pathway into the windy darkness. 
 Stumbling blindly after her, Norwood followed. It 
 was gusty, and a few drops of rain were whipped 
 against his face. With that curious force small 
 customs impose upon us, lie remembered that she 
 might get wet, and he came back and took an um- 
 brella from its stand. He had robbed her of peace, 
 of a simple heart, of freshness and of faith ; had 
 taught her the frightful lesson whose fruits are 
 those of distrust, of cynicism, possibly of crime ; 
 yet his native gallantry would not have permitted
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. H7 
 
 him to see his wife rained upon without solici- 
 tude. 
 
 When he reached the river-side he could see her 
 just flitting before him like a lithe, swaying ghost 
 under the glinting of the flaring lamps. Her light 
 cloak streamed behind her on the gale, but she made 
 no effort to gather it back across her breast. She 
 was almost running now, and even to keep within 
 sight of her he was forced to greatly quicken his 
 pace. So these two helpless, hurrying figures tossed 
 about amid the wildness of the unchained elements, 
 which were growing more and more turbulent. 
 They seemed to be hastening from some doom 
 whose whole portent they had not yet fathomed. 
 When he had gone about two miles it rained heavily. 
 
 He began to run after her, so that he was soon 
 beside her. 
 
 " Paula," he said to her timidly, " you will get 
 wet. Take this," and he offered her shelter. " I 
 will not touch you," he added sadly, for he saw her 
 shrink from him. 
 
 She propped herself against the stone parapet 
 which divided the road from the gradient bank. 
 The dead fog lay dank and low on the river. Now 
 and then a melancholy wail blown from the hoarse 
 horn of some belated ship pierced the silence with 
 its warning. The distant city was itself sinking 
 into quiet and into sleep.
 
 118 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 She stood defiantly before him, her face aflame 
 with excitement, her luminous eyes distended as 
 they met his, with a sort of terror. lie caught 
 sight at that moment of those inner pulsations of 
 another's being whose flashes are so rarely revealed 
 to us, and it went through him that he had never 
 before appreciated her beauty. The trees over 
 their heads bowed and groaned like dumb creat- 
 ures in travail, showering their moistures over 
 the two pale upturned faces, and now she spoke 
 to him : 
 
 " Dare to approach me," she said, and her lips 
 were curled in ineffable disgust and loathing 
 "dare to speak to me, and I will cast myself into 
 that dark water and its waves will blot me out from 
 your sight forever, as I am already blotted out for- 
 ever from your future and your life. In a few 
 moments I will reach the city. If you attempt 
 even to follow me, to control my movements, to try 
 to discover where I will hide myself, I will call the 
 authorities to my aid, proclaim you what you are. 
 You shall be openly degraded in the public streets. 
 Now you have heard leave me ! You approach 
 me at your peril ! " and she waved him away with a 
 gesture of infinite repugnance. 
 
 He bowed his head, for her contempt stung his 
 pride to the quick. 
 
 " As you will," he said quietly. " You have the
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. H9 
 
 right to trample upon and insult me ; I have none 
 to your leniency." 
 
 When the mile was accomplished that brought 
 them into the outskirts of the town for he had 
 still followed her, although at a wider distance he 
 saw her call a cab and get into it. Then he walked 
 back all the way alone through the storm which 
 now raged furiously. 
 
 When he entered the deserted house he rang for 
 Honora, and told her that Mrs. Sorchan was ill and 
 that her mistress had been summoned and had gone 
 to her. He then went to his study. It was exactly 
 as they had left it. He picked up Paula's handker- 
 chief which had fallen near the chair she had occu- 
 pied, turned it over in his fingers, stroked out its 
 creases, folded it carefully and laid it under a book 
 near the lamp. He piled up some papers and put 
 away a few scattered bills which were straggling over 
 them. He then sought his room. Hope was dead. 
 It was rather a relief Yes, it was a relief almost 
 peace. He was very calm. He felt drowsy. He 
 had not had the sensation for so long, so long. He 
 went to his room, I say, and he began to undress. 
 " Yes, that was well done," he said to himself, pull- 
 ing off his boots. The mud fell from them in 
 pieces. It had left its wet stains upon the carpet 
 under his feet wherever he had trodden. He took 
 them and placed them outside of his door as usual.
 
 120 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 When he had thrown himself on the bed at last he 
 had no further thought of all that had happened, 
 none. He stretched out his long limbs between the 
 sheets. The bed was good ; it offered coolness and 
 rest. This was what he wanted. Oh ! he was so 
 tired, so tired. Coolness, rest! He slept a long, 
 dreamless sleep, the first which had visited for 
 months his red and swollen eyelids. 
 
 Mrs. Sorchan sat up late. She had reached the 
 age when sleep has to be wooed. She often re- 
 mained until after midnight reading in her li- 
 brary. It was a pleasant, cheerful room upon her 
 second floor and adjoining her bed-chamber. It was 
 situated at the back of the house and was there- 
 fore a safe retreat. Even the sound of the door- 
 bell and of disturbing carriage wheels failed to 
 reach its remoteness. It was hung with soft crim- 
 son stuff, and the curtains and carpet \vere of the 
 same rich tones. Its walls were lined with low 
 book-shelves well filled with her favorite authors, 
 and above them hung a few fine pictures. Here 
 her tea table stood close to a bright wood fire, with 
 its old-fashioned silver salver and its thin china 
 cups. It was here that she generally took her cup 
 of tea at five o'clock and here that she passed her 
 evenings when she was quite alone. The drawing- 
 room was tpo large, and she preferred this warm 
 and cosy nook when she had no visitors. This
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 121 
 
 evening she had found a particularly enticing book. 
 Like people whose own lives have been uneventful, 
 she had a great love for works of fiction, and even 
 preferred those which dealt in incident and plot to 
 such as gave an introspective study of human feel- 
 ing. She was a woman of kind sympathies who 
 had seen a good deal of others' sufferings, and she 
 liked to find in books, distraction and amusement, 
 and not the darker aspects of life. Upon the har- 
 mony of this calm interior of widowed resignation 
 and middle-aged content suddenly was thrown a dis- 
 sonant note, a note of Youth's protest and revolt, a 
 note of anger, of despair and of passion. 
 
 With streaming garments and hair wet and 
 tangled, with fear in her eyes and dismay in the 
 droop of her shoulders, as Mrs. Sorchan looked up, 
 Paula stood upon the threshold. I regret to state 
 that all that the older lady could find to jerk out 
 were the two insufficient words " Good gracious ! " 
 hardly, it must be conceded, fitting to the occasion. 
 But it must be remembered that she was not yet at- 
 tuned to the new key. The passage from the 
 placid satisfactions of the major to the unfilled cry 
 of the minor needs often to be bridged by discord- 
 ant semi-tones. 
 
 " Aunt Amy," said Paula solemnly, still stand- 
 ing in the doorway, " Aunt Amy, I am homeless." 
 
 " Good gracious ! " again ejaculated Mrs. Sor-
 
 122 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 chan, " and wet through, too. What in the world ! 
 Why, child, did you walk in ? " 
 
 " I walked I ran nearly all the way," said 
 Paula, breathlessly. 
 
 " Well ! " said her aunt. She came quickly for- 
 ward and began to unfasten her niece's cloak, 
 which fell with a wet plash to the floor. She also 
 helped her to remove her fur cap and passed her 
 pretty hand twice over the young woman's damp 
 hair. 
 
 " Quarreled with your husband, eh ? " and 
 Paula was penetrated by two small, gray, inquiring 
 eyes. 
 
 The girl bent her head, which remained upon 
 her breast as if she had no strength or desire ever 
 to again lift it with its weight of humiliation. 
 
 " Well, well ! Come to the fire, warm your- 
 self," said her aunt. " Will you have some tea ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Paula, shivering. " I am cold, I 
 am thirsty." 
 
 No servant was needed. Everything was there, 
 the dainty tea-caddy, even the cream which had 
 been brought up at ten o'clock for the mistress's 
 evening cup. Mrs. Sorchan struck a match and re- 
 lit the kettle which was half full of water. Any- 
 thing is better than the first plunge into the chilling 
 waves of explanation. Mrs. Sorchan was a bit cow- 
 ardly ; she was hugging the shore, a shore of shift-
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 123 
 
 ing quicksands which must soon sink and submerge 
 them both. 
 
 " Aunt Amy," said Paula, " I have left Nor- 
 wood forever." 
 
 She was sitting now on a low stool near the fire, 
 its glow on her face, her hands convulsively clasped 
 together across her knees. 
 
 " Then I'm afraid you've made a great fool of 
 yourself," said her aunt, who had seated herself 
 close to her in a deep arm-chair. 
 
 The girl looked up and the older woman read 
 something in those dumb eyes which made her 
 move her own uneasily from their survey. 
 
 " What is it then ? " she asked huskily. 
 
 " The reason will never leave my heart," said 
 Paula. 
 
 But Mrs. Sorchan did not heed this assertion. 
 
 " Has he been cross, cruel to you ? " 
 
 Paula did not answer. 
 
 " Has he stolen, forged ? Anything like that ? 
 Oh, I dare say. I shall not be in the least surprised. 
 It's the decent men that do it nowadays." 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Is it ... is it ... another woman ? " 
 
 Then those honest lips told their first lie. 
 
 "No," said Paula. 
 
 With the positiveness with which certain ideas 
 and purposes fasten themselves upon highly wrought
 
 124 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 natures Paula had, during that dreadful drive, for- 
 mulated but one plan of action. It possessed her 
 now with its intense insistence : No one must know. 
 "I can bear anything, everything but that," she 
 said to herself. " If it is known I shall kill myself." 
 So now she told her lie ; that lie that she decided 
 should save her pride, aye, if even at the cost of her 
 own good fame. 
 
 Mrs. Sorchan's hands fell into her lap, and she 
 gave a short gasp. Horrid possibilities began to 
 press upon her. 
 
 " Good Heavens ! " thought Mrs. Sorchan. " My 
 poor Paula ! What has the man done ? What 
 abominable thing ? " and her heart stood still. But 
 when she remembered Norwood's fine and manly 
 bearing, his clear eye, his frank laugh, his bold 
 step, his reputation for honor and integrity, she 
 shook her head distraught. 
 
 " Paula," she said to her niece, making a sud- 
 den and a wise resolve, " Paula, keep your secrets. 
 I'll urge you no further to divulge. You are, per- 
 haps, right. A woman should never raise the veil 
 of her married life, only," she added, with an ex- 
 piring severity, " remember that if it's all folly 
 you'll find no sympathy with me." 
 
 Then the poor, lonely, bruised heart broke. She 
 sank on her knees and buried her head in her aunt's 
 gown. " Don't turn me out, Aunt Amy ; don't
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 125 
 
 cast me away from you into the streets. I've 
 got no one else, no one, than you to come to in 
 my misery," and she writhed to and fro, racked 
 with her sobbings, clinging with outstretched arms 
 to Mrs. Sorchan's limbs. In a moment she had 
 been drawn up upon a loving and kind heart, and 
 words of sweet comfort were being poured into 
 her frightened ears. The older woman held her 
 close, rocking her like an infant on her breast, with 
 gentle cooings of pity and consolation. 
 
 " There, there, my dear one ! My little Paula. 
 Let me wipe the tears so there, my Paula. My 
 home is yours. It's lonely enough, and I am glad 
 to keep you. Glad, child ! Do you hear me ? " and 
 then the tea-kettle boiled over and Mrs. Sorchan 
 held the warm, soothing cup to those exhausted lips.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 So it came to pass that Paula found refuge. 
 Through one brief interview between Mrs. Sorchan 
 and Norwood the young wife resolutely refused to 
 see her husband all arrangements were definitely 
 settled. There was to be separation, but no divorce. 
 Only on condition, however, that the truth should 
 never be made known, for, if ever it came to light 
 and credence, Paula would instantly seek legal re- 
 dress and insist upon absolute freedom. Was this 
 clause on her part unmagnanimous, unworthy, see- 
 ing she had left the man and he was henceforth a 
 stranger to her ? Had she the fear that in a Quix- 
 otic moment, born of his loneliness and remorse, 
 he might take the child the other woman's and 
 harbor it ? And was there a certain jealousy of it 
 and of him of one who was to her henceforth an 
 object of disgust and of contempt ? 
 
 A woman's heart is an abyss. Nineteenth cent- 
 ury heroines are proverbially imperfect. This dole 
 of secrecy was surely no great hostage for her out-
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 127 
 
 raged heart to demand. It was for him to see that 
 the terrible secret was kept. Norwood expressed a 
 desire to share with nay, give her the larger part 
 of his income, but this she resolutely refused. Her 
 dog and her horse were sent back to her, with fami- 
 ly portraits and silver and such things as had be- 
 longed to her parents. 
 
 " I presume you will sell the old house," said 
 Mrs. Sorchan to Norwood coldly, but not without a 
 little natural movement of curiosity. 
 
 " No," said Norwood shortly ; " the house is 
 mine. I keep it. I shall live there." 
 
 Mrs. Sorchan opened astonished eyes, but said 
 nothing more. Honora came to her mistress, but 
 she was old, and she concluded to return and end 
 her days in the South with a brother who was well 
 off and had sent for her. Paula engaged a French 
 maid in the place of her old nurse. The wrench 
 was not what it once would have been. It was as 
 well. All was to be new ; why not new faces also ? 
 Nothing again could ever be very bad ; not worse 
 than the dull ache the soldier feels in the limb he 
 has left on the battle-field. The other servants 
 were tacitly made to understand that there had 
 been a quarrel. So much, of course, had to be 
 admitted. Then they were given their option as 
 to leaving or remaining. The women had the 
 usual idolatry of the female domestic for the "mas-
 
 128 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 ter." They decided that Miss Paula had been over 
 hasty, and probably foolish, and hoped that there 
 was a good time coming when the breach would 
 be finally filled up. They concluded to remain 
 with Norwood. 
 
 "Only fancy," said Mrs. Joyce's daughter one 
 day to some friends at her mother's house " only 
 fancy ! They say Paula Sorchan has left her hus- 
 band." 
 
 " What ! That handsome fellow 2 " said the 
 Cousin Nelly who had been to Paula's wedding, 
 who was still a " Miss," less fashionable now, 
 and did not enjoy it. " She must be a wicked 
 woman. I, for one, never liked her." 
 
 " Yes," said a visitor, " I heard she came down 
 to breakfast one day and just said to him, ' I am 
 tired of the sight of you,' and marched out of the 
 house, carrying away a great deal of the furniture ; 
 actually had the effrontery to send up a large van 
 to have all the best things carted to her aunt's, leav- 
 ing the poor man almost on the straw yes the 
 straw ! I don't know, I am sure, what the world is 
 coming to, the way the married women are go- 
 ing on ! " 
 
 " Anything is better than being an old maid," 
 said Mrs. Joyce's daughter, less irrelevantly than it 
 might be supposed, since she was paying up old 
 scores she was herself now a married woman
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 129 
 
 " I'd rather have a husband who dragged me about 
 by the hair than none at all." 
 
 " That's easy enough for you to say," retorted 
 Nelly tartly, who, nevertheless, in her secret heart, 
 thought a husband extremely desirable " you, who 
 drag yours about by the nose." 
 
 " As to the straw," said Mrs. Joyce, " that's 
 hardly credible ; I have heard he was rich." 
 
 "Oh, well, it's a way of speaking. Norwood 
 was always kind and gentle to his wife, I am sure, 
 but the daughter of that free-thinking, godless Sor- 
 chan probably had emancipated ideas of duty and 
 moral obligations, what could one expect ? " said the 
 visitor. 
 
 " My friend Paul Sorchan," and the Professor 
 loomed across the threshold, " was a benefactor to 
 the human race. If he doubted that there is a 
 heaven above us I am sure that he has been pleas- 
 antly surprised to find himself there sooner than 
 any of the rest of us. I, for one, am indeed sorry 
 if trouble or sorrow have come to his child." 
 
 The male dignity of this utterance threw these 
 female flutterers into quick disarray and rout. 
 
 Even Mrs. Sorchan sometimes wondered, as was 
 indeed to be expected, if her niece had not been 
 willful, obstinate, unforgiving. So Paula's small 
 world, which thought it knew her best, judged her 
 less leniently than should that larger one into which
 
 130 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 she was soon to be absorbed. Such anomalies are 
 not infrequent We may be too near an object to 
 judge it clearly. 
 
 When the summer came, Mrs. Sorchan and 
 Paula went to the sea. They hired a pretty cot- 
 tage close to a surf-washed coast, which was dotted 
 with the residences of people who passed the warm- 
 er months here, some of whom had larger country- 
 seats elsewhere, or sought the world of Newport for 
 a part of a gayer season. Mrs. Sorchan and Paula 
 crossing the river to meet their train found them- 
 selves upon the boat in proximity to a party of 
 people who were conversing loudly together in Ger- 
 man. There were one or two men, a woman, and 
 some children. A large man from among them, 
 who towered over the others, espied Mrs. Norwood, 
 looked hard at her, made a step forward and lifted 
 his hat. It was Dr. Krupp. Paula raised her head 
 haughtily and turned her back to him. Under the 
 direct cut a purple choleric color mounted to his 
 forehead. 
 
 In the train which was conveying them to their 
 new home they met another person, who exerted 
 from that day forward a marked influence upon 
 Paula's destiny. I think we can count, usually, 
 upon the fingers of one hand the people who really 
 affect our growth, modify our opinions, or sway our 
 faith. In the flux and reflux of the living throng,
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 131 
 
 in the crowded thoroughfare of existence, how few 
 really arrest us for a moment ! and they are often 
 such as we shall pass but seldom, rarely those who 
 accompany us on our daily walks. 
 
 The meeting of which I speak was in this wise : 
 The train was overcrowded. Our ladies had desired 
 to find seats in the larger car, but were, perforce, 
 relegated to a compartment which looked already 
 full to them as they were jostled through the door- 
 way by a porter. It proved to contain, however, 
 two or three empty places. It was occupied by a 
 lady, two young boys, and a gentleman. Paula did 
 not look at these people at first, sunk as she always 
 was now in her own sad reflections. But the lady 
 not only looked at her, but gazed intently and with 
 a certain curiosity at the grave profile, proud and so 
 sternly sombre, whose delicate outlines were clearly 
 visible to her against the window's white square, 
 glimmeringly illumined by the splendors of a de- 
 parting day. 
 
 "Where, where," thought the lady, "have I 
 seen that face before ? " 
 
 She turned so often toward Paula with this 
 observing query in her expression that at last the 
 gentleman, who seemed engrossed with her and 
 with nothing else, waxed a trifle impatient. 
 
 " What do you see out of that window which 
 makes you so distraite, Mrs. Heathcote ? " he asked.
 
 132 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 The lady did not answer him, but at the ques- 
 tion Paula had started from her revery and their 
 eyes had met in a mutual recognition. Paula 
 blushed, for ... it was the " Princess." And 
 very like a princess, too, with her charming figure 
 caught tightly in its blue cloth gown, dainty and 
 rich, and her graceful head surmounted by her 
 black Eenaissance hat, which projected a shadow 
 over the upper part of her lovely face. A costly 
 wrap matching her costume had fallen from her 
 shoulders. Her black lace parasol with its quaint 
 silver handle lay on the seat opposite. From be- 
 neath her dress a daintily shod foot exhibited a 
 glimpse of azure stocking. Paula returned her 
 glances with a half-smile, and then, embarrassed, 
 she quickly looked out of the window, and the lady 
 at her escort. 
 
 " What did you say ? " 
 
 " Oh," he answered, " I only desired to know 
 what it was just beyond me that arrested your 
 attention. It always is something beyond, out 
 of reach, often out of sight, that rivets your 
 thoughts." 
 
 The boys had gone out into the passage, where 
 they were engaged in an animated discussion with 
 the colored porter as to the relative merits and 
 speed of this particular train and one they had 
 once tested upon the other shore, whose engineer
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 133 
 
 had volunteered a race and had been altogether 
 far more enterprising and delightful, 
 
 Mrs. Heathcote laughed. " What nonsense ! 
 when you know perfectly well that I am the 
 healthiest-minded being alive, and the sanest." 
 
 " I dare say you are healthy, and I have no 
 method of gauging your sanity. I only know 
 you are a woman of the day, frightfully modern, 
 and hence difficult to interest, to understand or 
 to suit." 
 
 He spoke lightly, but there was a shade of 
 bitterness in his tone. 
 
 " Why, what mystery can there be about me ? " 
 
 " I have often asked myself that question ! 
 That a person who has no secrets the world can 
 babble of should still strike one as so unknowable 
 and mysterious as yourself is a proof of some 
 hidden life we know not of, or ... of genius." 
 
 " What do you mean by a woman of the day ? 
 I am nearly old enough to be of yesterday," she 
 said evasively. 
 
 " It is my turn now to say, * What nonsense ! ' 
 But you know as well as I could tell you all about 
 the women of this day and this country." 
 
 " I do not know women at all." 
 
 " Haven't men taught you something about 
 your own sex ? Intellects have sex, but not hearts, 
 and these have been so bared to you."
 
 134 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 " You are begging the question," she answered. 
 " You are too personal now. It's bad taste." 
 
 " Shall I describe to you your prototype, one of 
 your sisters ? " 
 
 " Pray do. It will be amusing." 
 
 " That's just it amusing ! To be amused ! Tell 
 me frankly, Mrs. Heathcote, which do you prefer, 
 to be happy or to be amused 2 " 
 
 " I like to be interested," said the Princess. 
 
 The gentleman she addressed was a man of 
 middle age, slightly bald and inclining to stout- 
 ness. Across his aquiline nose he wore eyeglasses, 
 through which peered a pair of sarcastic, keen, 
 bright eyes. He was plainly dressed, but with 
 scrupulous care and even elegance. His whole 
 person exhaled an indescribable aroma of the 
 world. He gave one the impresson of having seen 
 and tasted a little of everything ; that intangible 
 Freemasonary felt the more determinantly because 
 it can not be explained and is impracticable to imi- 
 tate. He was evidently a dexterous talker, and 
 although the conversation was carried on in very 
 low tones, not in whispers Mrs. Heathcote would 
 not have deigned to whisper in a public place ; she 
 would have thought it as ill-bred as over-loudness 
 Paula suddenly found herself listening with a 
 strained and almost painful eagerness. Starving 
 persons are proverbially indifferent to the quality
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 135 
 
 of the viands set before them. Her famine-stricken 
 soul, with its obsession of thought, whose beginning 
 and end was darkness, was ready to hearken with 
 avidity to any words which might be found to illu- 
 mine past or present experience. In her egotistic 
 pain the poor child was ever now on the alert for 
 an answer to its eternal problems. Who knew ! 
 Perhaps these two people whom she intuitively felt 
 to be wise in things whereof she was ignorant 
 might hold the key of life's cruelties. 
 
 " You like to be interested ! Ay, and the man 
 who has failed to do this may go about his busi- 
 ness. ' Come with me,' says the modern Adolphus 
 to his Yanessa, ' come, my beloved ! Dost thou 
 not see that the twilight is nigh ? Come and walk 
 hand in hand with me in the meadows, amid the 
 grasses. See how they bow to do thy beauty 
 homage! Come with me near to the cool sea 
 water ! Come, and let us love ! ' 
 
 " But Yanessa answers a trifle sharply. ' Yes, 
 dearest Adolphus, in a minute. But I have a letter, 
 a wonderful letter from the other side of the wide 
 seas of which you speak. Cynthia writes me of 
 her triumphs. She has sung, and a hundred 
 stopped to listen and applaud; she has painted, 
 and they awarded a medal and a prize, and the 
 Prince took her hand and gave her a rose. Wait, 
 dear, that I finish the letter. Its joy gains me.
 
 136 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 When I can no longer see to read then I will come 
 to thee.' 
 
 "'Nay, nay,' says Adolphus plaintively, 'put 
 up the foolish Cynthia's letter. Come with me 
 into the fields, come ! Let us love I ' and she 
 goes. 
 
 " But once in the open ' Where is that bird 
 flying, dear Adolphus, with its silver wings and its 
 bright breast, where ? Would that I, too, might 
 soar upon its pinions be lost and swallowed in 
 that distant azure through which it speeds ! ' 
 
 "'Nay, nay, my beloved. Look not at the 
 birdling ; look at thy beloved, look at me. Let 
 us love ! ' 
 
 " ' And that ship which sails far over the waves, 
 that beautiful, brave ship, Adolphus ! See how 
 she rises and sinks upon the horizen ! See how 
 she seems to beckon and to promise ! O God, that 
 I, too, were pacing her proud decks ! That I, too, 
 might be seeking a wider sphere away from these 
 tiresome narrow walks full of these silly daisies and 
 useless buttercups ! ' 
 
 " ' Nay, my adored one ; look not at the ships. 
 What are the ships to thee and to me ? Look not 
 at the ships ! Look at me ! ' 
 
 " Then the modern Yanessa turns and gazes at 
 her Adolphus ; gazes at him with a curiosity tinged 
 with weariness, and then she says to him :
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 137 
 
 " ' Yes, yes, dear Adolphus ; but tell ine, who 
 art thou, and what is love ? ' 
 
 " ' I am thy love, and to love is happiness.' 
 
 " She shrugs her shoulders and moves away. 
 
 " ' Ah, perhaps. Happiness ! didst thou say ? 
 Pah ! "What is happiness ? ' 
 
 " ' Happiness is . . . is . . . ' 
 
 " But she has left him and he hears her murmur, 
 ' Happiness ! love ! Who wants these ? They are 
 but playthings for men and fools and children. 
 I want to know, I want to learn, I want to see. 
 I want light, color, air, breadth, wisdom, wealth, 
 power. I want the world and thou pratest to me 
 of happiness and of love ! They are idle folly and 
 elusive. They are tame, dull at the best. Give 
 me what I want or I die ! " : 
 
 The Princess threw back her head and gave a 
 laugh which was dissipated in a sigh, and Paula 
 saw again upon her lips that sadness which she 
 had observed before when this lady was but a 
 dream to her. 
 
 "Ah! Mr. Ackley," she said, shaking her 
 head, "you make me wish to laugh as well as to 
 weep ; yet depend upon it your Vanessa is quite 
 right after all. What can be more monstrous 
 than for two beings to pass their lives contemplat- 
 ing one another ; cramped into feebleness and 
 sordid ease in a wide infinite world where man's
 
 138 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 little life straggles against cruel animosities, re- 
 coils before horrid dangers ? " 
 
 At this moment a violent jerk threw the occu- 
 pants of the compartment almost upon each other, 
 awakening Mrs. Sorchan harshly from a pleasant 
 nap. The boys, followed by their German tutor 
 and a maid, ran in from the other car, where there 
 was a momentary tumult of wonder and conster- 
 nation. Mr. Ackley went out with some of the 
 other male passengers to see what had occurred. 
 It was nothing more serious than a car oif the 
 track. Some slight damage, however, had been 
 done, and there would be a few moment's delay, 
 and during this delay the women spoke to each 
 other. 
 
 " It is so provoking," said the Princess. " We 
 are already late. It is invariably so on this hateful 
 road." 
 
 "Do you go to East Brompton?" asked Mrs. 
 Sorchan. 
 
 " Yes. Do you ? " 
 
 " We have taken a cottage there," said Paula. 
 
 "Ah, really! I go down there to get out of 
 the crowd and have some decent bathing. W T e 
 have a little box there ourselves, where I take my 
 children for a couple of months. Col. Heathcote 
 went down yesterday." Then after a short pause 
 the Princess said boldly, with her charming smile
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 139 
 
 as accompaniment, looking at Paula, " Do tell me 
 where I have seen you before ? " 
 
 " I have known you by sight since I was a little 
 child," said Paula. 
 
 "No? Fancy!" 
 
 " Yes. I have seen you often, often on the 
 Riverside." 
 
 " Ah ! " said the Princess. " Now I remember 
 you perfectly. I saw you once cross the road 
 when I was driving slowly by, and I have noticed 
 you before on your lawn under the trees. And so 
 it is you who live in that darling old house 2 I 
 have always wondered who it belonged to." 
 
 "I used to live there," replied Paula shortly, 
 and the Princess, who was quick-witted, thought 
 that she noticed a moment's uneasiness, a faint 
 warning in Mrs. Sorchan's eyes, a slight depre- 
 cating gesture as if to say, "that ground is dan- 
 gerous." 
 
 The name of Heathcote was not unknown to the 
 Sorchan ladies. They had often heard and read of 
 Colonel Heathcote, who was a great financier, and as 
 well known for his keen interest in politics, in mili- 
 tary affairs, and in philanthropic enterprises as was 
 Mrs. Heathcote as a queen of the social world, only 
 in her seclusion Paula had not guessed that Mrs. 
 Heathcote and her Princess were one. Before they 
 reached their destination Mrs. Heathcote had been
 
 14:0 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 timidly told her sobriquet and bad asked Paula ber 
 own name. 
 
 " I am Mrs. Norwood," she replied. " Paul 
 Sorchan's daugbter." 
 
 " Paul Sorcban's daugbter ! " exclaimed Mrs. 
 Heatbcote. " That is indeed a brevet of nobility." 
 
 " She is very interesting," she said later, driving 
 homeward through the sand in the low beach wagon 
 in which she and Mr. Ackley and one of her boys 
 had found room. " She is very interesting, and to 
 be interested is what you say we all desire. Her 
 name is Norwood. Where do you suppose the hus- 
 band is?" 
 
 " I have met Norwood," said Mr. Ackley, " al- 
 though I know him but slightly. He is a very 
 clever fellow, rising to great prominence in his pro- 
 fession, and now I remember I have heard some 
 queer story to the effect that his wife had left 
 him." 
 
 "No!" 
 
 "Yes, and they said for no particular reason. 
 Got bored, or, presumedly, wanted the bird or the 
 ship. I can well believe it o-f her. She looks like a 
 fire-eater." 
 
 ""What! That modest, simple, dreamy, impul- 
 sive girl ? " 
 
 " How do you know she's impulsive?" 
 
 " Don't you suppose I know these things ?
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 141 
 
 She's all impulse. She's charming. Depend upon 
 it, it's his fault. 
 
 " That's exactly what I said : he bored her. 
 Men are bores. I am one myself. Nowadays that 
 is sufficient cause for separation, and I think you 
 women are quite right. I am with you every time." 
 
 " You are incorrigible ! " and just then they 
 drew up at the gate. 
 
 A broad, tall, military-looking man with iron- 
 gray hair and thick eyebrows came down the path- 
 way to receive the travelers. He met his wife with 
 formal courtesy, kissing her hand with a low in- 
 clination. " Welcome home," he said. 
 
 " Did you ever know Paul Sorchan ? " she asked 
 of him later at dinner. 
 
 " Not personally. Every one has heard of 
 him." 
 
 "Well, his daughter is our next-door neighbor. 
 What fools we are never to know such people. 
 Why, he's world-renowned. Where do they keep 
 themselves ? " 
 
 " They keep themselves," said Mr. Ackley with 
 his caustic smile, "in the purlieus of an outer dark- 
 ness with three millions of their townspeople where 
 privileged ones who dance in the sun can hardly be 
 expected to follow or to find them." 
 
 " Pshaw ! " said the Princess.
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 PAULA had imagined herself incapable, since 
 she did not trust herself to elucidate further of 
 even a flitting gleam of pleasurable emotion, yet 
 she was distinctly conscious of an agreeable, nay, 
 of a certain cheerful excitement at having at last 
 grappled with her ideal met her Princess face to 
 face. How exquisite she was to be sure ! As 
 perfect as her fancy had pictured, and how un- 
 changed ! Her vicinity seemed to cast a certain 
 halo of romance over the low-roofed Queen Anne 
 cottage, which, it must be confessed, appeared 
 somewhat " stuffy " to the two women accus- 
 tomed to large, generous and convenient quarters. 
 
 As Paula leaned out of her narrow casement, 
 looking away over sand dunes which sluiced the 
 ocean reaches into tiny canals and mimic lakes, to 
 a desolate horizon, her sad reveries were shaken 
 by this new element of interest. She had that 
 strong love of the sea, of its unrest and infinitude 
 which lies, a germ, in every imaginative, unsatisfied
 
 . A PURITAN PAGAN. 143 
 
 creature, and she thought to herself that she would 
 like to pass hours wandering alone on this lonely 
 coast where she might, unmolested, give full play 
 to the morbid breedings which now formed the 
 background of her every meditation. It was al- 
 most disturbing to find that across her pathway 
 this radiant vision had stepped. "Ah! but," she 
 thought, " I have found her too late." She was 
 torn between her forceful desire to be absolutely 
 miserable and her romantic admiration for her new 
 neighbor. She was surprised to find herself won- 
 dering whether Mrs. Heathcote would seek a con- 
 tinuance of the acquaintance. 
 
 Mrs. Heathcote not only did so, calling upon 
 Mrs. Sorchan and her niece almost immediately, 
 but extended more than ordinary civilities, begging 
 them to make use of her lawn and her piazzas, to 
 come over often for a cup of tea at five, and sug- 
 gesting various forms of entertainment, such as ten- 
 nis, dances, picnics and sailing parties. Determin- 
 ing to avoid them made Paula's head fairly swim. 
 
 The " box " turned out to be a wide, airy hab- 
 itation, with more ground than was awarded to its 
 neighbors, and with a comfortable capacity for 
 guests. Compared with the two or three other 
 country houses which the Heathcotes were fortu- 
 nate enough to possess, it doubtless seemed to them 
 modest and unpretentious.
 
 144 A PURITAN PAGAN. . 
 
 To be told by a mournful-eyed young woman, 
 who has a " story," and carries it upon her counte- 
 nance and in every fold of her draperies, that you 
 have been an object of reverential worship for 
 years, and have been called " Princess " in her 
 prayers, is awakening in a dull neighborhood 
 where social claims are few and unimportant. 
 Mrs. Heathcote began by being " amused." She 
 ended by becoming attached. Yes, curiously so, for 
 one who was not ordinarily romantically attracted 
 to her own sex. A portion of the mantle of 
 Paula's own enthusiasm seemed to descend upon 
 the shoulders of this elegant and fastidious woman, 
 clothing her with a new charm. 
 
 " There is something about that girl that touches 
 the heart," she thought. 
 
 Mr. Ackley, the gentleman of the train, was 
 also added as a new impression to Paula's first 
 weeks. He seemed to be an intimate friend of 
 the Heathcotes, almost one of their household, and 
 was passing a few weeks with them, \vhile other 
 guests came and went at shorter intervals. Paula's 
 first judgment of him had not been lenient; she 
 still retained the severity of judgment and the 
 hardness of youth ; and surely her experience had 
 not tended to demulcent influences. The appear- 
 ance which he always presented of having been 
 lately scrubbed, his long highly-polished finger-
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 145 
 
 nails, the irreproachableness of his cravats, the 
 smell of scented soaps which emanated from his 
 whole person, and an added drop of perfume which 
 was wafted from his fine silk handkerchiefs, with 
 their elaborate monograms, as well as the cynical 
 look which he wore as if by habit while admitting 
 that he was the cleanest man she had ever seen and 
 that he smelled very good, a fact which affected her 
 pleasantly when he approached her she felt called 
 upon to view these amenities as the expressions of 
 a lamentable male foppery peculiarly absurd in a 
 man of his age. She also suspected him of laugh- 
 ing at all serious things and of being flippant 
 and generally frivolous. That he was clever she 
 had immediately guessed, but it was a cleverness 
 which antagonized rather than attracted her. In 
 the peculiar moral tenebrae through which she was 
 groping she shrank from him with a sort of fear. 
 She believed him to be a person capable of apply- 
 ing a scalpel to the quivering human heart, of 
 tearing it apart for his own delectation and throw- 
 ing away the analyzed morsels, with a vivisection- 
 ists's indifference. 
 
 It is needless to say that she did him injustice. 
 She met him several times and he was extremely 
 amiable and courteous, but she treated him always 
 with a frigidity bordering upon insolence. Mrs. 
 
 Heathcote was secretly amused by this defensive 
 10
 
 146 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 attitude of the young woman. It had, indeed, be- 
 come a joke in her immediate entourage, for the 
 more Mrs. Norwood endeavored to avoid him the 
 more resolutely did Mr. Ackley redouble in his 
 respectful attentions. One day he would send 
 Mrs. Norwood a book ; another day it was a piece 
 of music Paula had brought her piano. Again 
 he would stop with a rare shell in his hand, which 
 he had picked up at low tide, just pausing for a 
 moment at the cottage door and leaving his gift. 
 Paula would thank him coldly and not even ask 
 him to come in. Her aunt rebuked her for this 
 lack of hospitality. 
 
 " I am sure he seems a very agreeable man," she 
 said. 
 
 " I loathe him," said Paula. 
 
 Mrs. Sorchan sighed ! " Paula, Paula, you are 
 all wrong, my child." 
 
 There were certain traits in her niece's character 
 which she was learning to deplore. This defiance, 
 for instance. How unfortunate for one in her 
 equivocal position ! 
 
 " He's a weak, silly old man," said Paula. 
 
 " You are a poor reader of character if you be- 
 lieve that of Mr. Ackley. I imagine him to be any- 
 thing but weak and silly ; and as to old, why Mr. 
 Ackley is in the prime of manhood. He is evi- 
 dently a man of fashion in fact, I remember to
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 147 
 
 have heard so ; but depend upon it, Paula, even 
 that kind of success proves decided merit ; do not 
 forget the ' grand honneur aux yants glaces" 1 sent 
 from the French battle-field, and the Duke of Well- 
 ington's message : ' The puppies fought excellently 
 well.' " 
 
 Mrs. Sorchan was a very sensible woman. 
 
 "I wish he'd let me alone, then," said Paula, 
 irrelevantly, putting the shell down on a neighbor- 
 ing chair with a little contemptuous shove. " If 
 he's such a lion, why does he parade in an ass's 
 skin ? I fail to see his object." 
 
 "You are all wrong, my dear," said her aunt 
 again, with another sigh. 
 
 Paula put on her hat and sauntered away to the 
 shore. She went far that day, farther than usual. 
 These frantic walks were her chief solace. She 
 would think and think until her brain refused to 
 answer to the drain of her unending questionings, 
 and her pulses recoiled from sheer physical weariness. 
 
 Once this day she stopped and, throwing her 
 hands out to the pitiless breakers, she tore the 
 gloves from off them, and cast them away from her. 
 They seemed to press upon her skin and burn it. 
 She would have liked to tear the dress which cov- 
 ered her breast, to bare her bosom to those damp 
 salt winds, to those cleansing waters whose Lethe 
 might forever blot the hateful memories which held
 
 148 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 her. The acute pangs of an impotent jealousy 
 were gnawing her, a jealousy which filled her with 
 self-scorn, and even with a certain pity for the ob- 
 ject it would fain have reached to hurt and wound. 
 How shall one reach the dead ? For those lips she 
 would have wished to strike were voiceless, that 
 breast she would have liked to stab lay silent for- 
 ever. " Oh," she cried to the surging waves, " was 
 ever any one cursed as I am? Never, never!" 
 Then she thought of the living, of the child. It 
 was then she tore off her gloves from her hands and 
 fain would have rent her garments, for even this 
 victim of her hatred was feeble and innocent. Why 
 should one torture and kill a little child? Could 
 one? There had been human fiends that did it. 
 God! Then she grew frightened at herself and 
 turned backward, hurrying across the twilight to 
 the desolate sand hills. She felt intuitively that she 
 needed people people who would protect her from 
 herself. The thought of Norwood she banished, as 
 the man who, watching his life-blood ooze from his 
 death wound, thrusts away the knife that has dealt 
 the blow. 
 
 She could have fought a living rival who smiled 
 insultingly at her discomfiture, but that dead 
 woman! that dead face! hidden! A veil forever 
 drawn between them ! The mute shadow, the chill 
 warning !
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 149 
 
 " Touch her not : she is beyond thy vengeance. 
 Revile her not ; she may not answer thee. Spurn 
 her not ; her deaf ears will not heed thee. She lies, 
 perforce, where death's cold majesty must make her 
 sacred. Sacred, ay, even to thee ! " 
 
 All the latent nobility struggled upward then 
 within Paula's breast, and she cried out to an unan- 
 swering Heaven : " O God ! Oh, my God ! Have 
 mercy on me ! " 
 
 This was a mood. She felt it coming on. She 
 even wooed it. When it failed to return with equal 
 intensity she lashed herself disdainfully, asking her- 
 self, " Am I forgetting, growing reconciled ? " 
 There was no danger. The next day the waves of 
 pain and of self pity had taken on new aliment, 
 were fresh once more for their meal of torment, and 
 " the mood " balanced back with redoubled force. 
 She hugged it, the dear friend. All else was torpor. 
 At least this was living, and so it came to pass that 
 she was glad of her misery. 
 
 There is probably nothing more debasing to a 
 human soul than incessant brooding over its 
 wrongs. Mrs. Sorchan watched the process with 
 anxious solicitude, and, having accepted to drive 
 with the Princess one morning, managed to say a 
 word to her : 
 
 " I wish you would speak to Paula ? " she said. 
 
 " Speak to her ? "
 
 150 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 " Yes. It may seem an odd request from one 
 who is almost a stranger to you, Mrs. Heathcote, 
 but you are the only person who could, I think, in- 
 fluence her. She adores you." 
 
 " Is she very unhappy ? She looks so." 
 
 "I am growing almost cross with her," said 
 Mrs. Sorchan. " It's nonsense, I say. No man liv- 
 ing is worth it. Heaven only knows what the diffi- 
 culty was about. She never told me, but if she goes 
 on fretting this way over it, she'll lose her reason." 
 
 " I wish she would open herself more to me," 
 said the Princess. "Perhaps then I could help 
 her." 
 
 " She's very reserved. I don't think she'll ever 
 confide," said Mrs. Sorchan. " Possibly in this 
 she's wise. But, even if she does not, you could 
 help her." 
 
 " Tell me how, dear Mrs. Sorchan." 
 
 The Princess bent down eagerly toward the 
 older woman. 
 
 " Why, first of all, get her to go out more, to 
 accept invitations, to mingle with young people, 
 to dress herself properly, to to be human," said 
 Mrs. Sorchan. 
 
 " I promise you," said the Princess, with a cer- 
 tain solemnity, and from that hour she and the aunt 
 were fast allies in their compact of mutual helpful- 
 ness.
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 151 
 
 The day following a note bade Mrs. Norwood 
 peremptorily, " Come over at once," to " Osprey," 
 which was the name of the Heathcotes' place, " to 
 look at some pretty things." 
 
 Paula hastened to obey the summons. She 
 never declined a tete-a-tete with her beloved, how- 
 ever, she might refuse her overtures of a more gen- 
 eral nature. She found Mrs. Heathcote walking 
 backward and forward between two large sleeping 
 apartments in the second story superintending the 
 unpacking by her maids of a variety of large cases. 
 The beds, chairs, sofas, and even tables, were piled 
 with feminine finery gowns, hats, wraps and para- 
 sols. The lady herself was draped in a pale-yellow 
 peignoir of indescribable delicacy, with a white lace 
 scarf 'thrown back over her hair. Her jeweled fin- 
 gers now and then just touched the dainty laces of 
 under garments or ball dresses, and she would 
 throw a " Eather nice, that," or " I don't admire 
 this," to her busy women. 
 
 " Ah, Mrs. Norwood ! Here you are. I have a 
 lot of things from the other side and I wanted to 
 show them to you. When we have absorbed all the 
 new fashions you'll stop and breakfast, won't you ? 
 I shall wish to speak with you. I have a great 
 favor to ask." 
 
 Paula was a woman ; hence she could not help 
 admiring these gaudy feathers which were to be-
 
 152 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 deck her lovely bird. She buried her face in the 
 fragrant batiste lingeries which were to clothe her 
 idol's fair form, and seemed to be already impreg- 
 nated with her sweetness. 
 
 " When you wear a blue gown, then," she said 
 in nai've inquiry, "you wear blue all through, and 
 with the pink pink ? " 
 
 " Yes," said the Princess, " it is more sincere." 
 
 Paula smiled. Mrs. Heathcote turned and looked 
 at her. 
 
 " That ought to commend me to your good 
 graces, surely, Mrs. Norwood. I think you admire 
 sincerity of all things," she said, laughing. 
 
 " I don't know." 
 
 " Oh, yes you do. You are too sincere yourself. 
 Much too frank, you know ; and depend upon it, it 
 is a great mistake." 
 
 " Too frank ? " 
 
 " Yes. You show out too much when you are 
 bored, and that is uncivil," said Mrs. Heathcote. 
 
 " Help me to improve," said Paula. 
 
 " Are you in earnest 2 " 
 
 " In deadly earnest, always." 
 
 Paula still spoke smilingly, but there was an un- 
 dertone of sadness in her voice. 
 
 " Very well. I am in earnest too. I want you 
 to do me a favor. Will you, my dear ? " and she 
 extended her hand with that gesture she had of
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 153 
 
 one who was accustomed to command, to grant, 
 not crave, benefits. 
 
 " Fancy a favor from me to you ! " 
 
 " I am giving a dance next Saturday, and I de- 
 sire your presence." 
 
 Paula's face clouded. 
 
 "Oh!" she said, "I can not." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " I should be a trouble-fete, my Princess." 
 
 " That is for me to judge." 
 
 " And then I really have nothing to wear," said 
 Paula, floundering, taking refuge in a woman's last 
 defense. Now the Princess had gained her ends, 
 for this was exactly what she had anticipated. Two 
 evening gowns were rapidly extricated from under 
 a voluminous satin cloak and triumphantly tossed 
 across Paula's knees. 
 
 " There," said the Princess, in a practical busi- 
 ness tone. " I'll sell you these two at cost, minus 
 the duties. They are too small for me, and will just 
 fit your svelteness. Your maid can manage the 
 small alterations. So now, Mrs. Norwood Paula 
 may I so call you ? that is settled." 
 
 They were very pretty. One was a soft, white 
 thing with a golden girdle, and the other an old rose 
 " creation," richly embroidered in dull traceries of 
 quaint, Eastern design, looking for all the world like 
 a part of some Begum's trousseau.
 
 154 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 " These things are marvels," said Paula, im- 
 pressed. She passed her lingers over them lightly. 
 " I have a very scant wardrobe. I did not think 
 anything worth while . . . any more." 
 
 " Of course they are, and they're dirt cheap, too," 
 said the Princess, with one arm akimbo before her 
 visitor, and still maintaining her practical pose, evi- 
 dently bent upon ignoring Paula's last words, and 
 everything, in fact, but the matter in hand. " Dirt 
 cheap ! It's a bargain for both of us. I am glad to 
 be rid of them. They are exactly your style or I 
 shouldn't offer them to you. Josephine ! " She 
 turned to her maid "I've just sold those two 
 gowns to Mrs. Norwood. Have them packed and 
 sent over." 
 
 " They'll be exactly what will suit madame's 
 beauty," said Josephine, with consummate ad- 
 dress. 
 
 " And by the way, my dear, send me your check 
 as soon as convenient," continued Mrs. Heathcote. 
 " I am terribly out of pocket just now." 
 
 " Oh, the adorable woman," thought Paula. 
 " Aunt Amy's been talking to her, and she's trying 
 to distract me. 
 
 Well, it was pleasant enough. 
 
 " So then," said Mrs. Heathcote, presently, 
 " you'll wear the white frock to our dance." 
 
 " Yes."
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 155 
 
 " You'll wear it, and you'll be so smart that 
 you'll eclipse me absolutely." 
 
 " That is probable." 
 
 "And your aunt will be proud of you. Mrs. 
 Norwood, you owe something to that good lady. 
 She's very fond of you." 
 
 " Yes," said Paula, " and you think me selfish." 
 
 " I think you absorbed, and that is a form of 
 selfishness, of course." 
 
 " I'll come to the dance and look as pretty as I 
 may, Principessa mia." 
 
 " That's right. Struggle up out of your dismal 
 swamp, my child. Remember what our precious 
 philosopher tells us ' come into the azure, love the 
 day.' " 
 
 " I have found it difficult," said Mrs. Norwood 
 faintly. 
 
 Then the practical Princess came forward impul- 
 sively and threw one arm about Paula's shoulders. 
 She stooped " Kiss me," she said, and then she 
 added very low, " Don't you suppose I know f " 
 
 To the evening bravery were added some other 
 bits of apparel, two morning gowns of simple but 
 stylish make, a parasol, a picturesque hat overflows 
 from that cruise which promised no possibility of 
 drought. And Paula was rather pleased to have 
 these beautiful acquisitions at so little trouble. She 
 dressed herself up for her aunt's benefit when she
 
 156 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 reached home, and was almost merry over the hat, 
 which would not stay on in the proper way unless 
 she altered the mode of her hair-dressing. It fell 
 off several times, to Mrs. Sorchan's amusement. On 
 the whole, it had been a cheery morning, and not 
 once had dark thoughts invaded her consciousness. 
 
 " In certain moods," murmured the Princess, 
 watching Paula's retreating figure across the grass, 
 "in certain moods there is nothing will save a 
 woman but clothes. I knew what I was about." 
 
 Before the Saturday, however, the kiss ex- 
 changed between the two women in tacit compact 
 had already dried on Paula's cheek. The " mood " 
 had once more swept over her with its touch of the 
 old burning pain. This time, however, she did not 
 woo it to remain, but hurried out from its persist- 
 ence into the sunshine. She sought the shore less 
 to indulge in retrospection than in the hope that ex- 
 ercise, air and light would chase away the dismal 
 specters. u Mrs. Heathcote is right," she said. " I 
 am selfish to Aunt Amy. I'll try." 
 
 She had not walked very far when she found 
 the sun intolerable it was high noon and she took 
 refuge under an arbor made of the dead boughs of 
 evergreen trees, which in a fashion shielded from 
 the heat and glare a roughly-hewed wooden bench 
 erected beneath them. At a little distance some 
 children were screaming at play, scampering wildly,
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 157 
 
 with shouts and laughter, from the rapid encroach- 
 ments of a rising tide. Their nurses were lying on 
 the sand, gossiping, under vari-colored sunshades, 
 making a trenchant bit of foreground against the 
 upheaved whiteness of the turbid surf. The imme- 
 diate vicinity of the spot which, with her habitual 
 denial of the gregarious instinct, Paula selected was, 
 however, deserted. She seated herself under the 
 sheltering branches, wrestling still with the impor- 
 tunate crying to be heard of that unsleeping agony 
 that it seemed all her vigilant effort could not drug 
 into numbness. She doubled up her hands until 
 the nails were driven into her palms and clinched 
 her teeth. "I will not, I will not!" she said to 
 herself. 
 
 The uttered words had scarcely died when she 
 became aware of a shadow across the sands behind 
 her, and a man's figure loomed up between her and 
 the dunes. He carried a white umbrella in one 
 hand and a palm-leaf fan in the other, and as he 
 neared the arbor she could hear that his breath came 
 shortly and could see that he was waving the fan 
 violently before a very red countenance. It was 
 Mr. Ackley. The week before she would have 
 made a swift escape, but, with her hardly formu- 
 lated desire to conquer herself, she concluded now 
 that this pervasive, ubiquitous creature must be ac- 
 cepted as part of a distasteful lesson.
 
 158 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 " Hallo," thought the intruder to himself, "here's 
 our ' Tragedy '" so he always called her to Mrs. 
 Heathcote " I suppose shell make mince-meat of 
 me as usual. She hates me more than she does 
 the malaria, but . . . here goes!" and he saluted 
 her. 
 
 He was somewhat surprised at being received, if 
 not with alacrity, at least with politeness. 
 
 " It is very hot," he said, removing his straw hat 
 and creaking uncomfortably on the rickety seat by 
 Paula's side, upon which he had sunk with a 
 " Will you permit me ? " 
 
 He began to wipe his forehead with one of those 
 immaculate handkerchiefs which wafted its agree- 
 able and vivifying odor. The perfume, although 
 indefensible, w r as, at least, not cloying. Mr. Ackley 
 was a man of taste. 
 
 " Fair Amphitrite," he said, " are you drinking 
 alone here of an Amrita which shall give immortal- 
 ity to gods and men ? And what dreams born of 
 your sea-foam beverage am I dispelling ? " 
 
 "My dreams, Mr. Ackley," said Paula, "are 
 best dispelled." 
 
 "At your age," said the gentleman, "dreams 
 should be roseate, or at least such is the cant phrase. 
 But I am free to confess that I do not think the 
 thoughts of youth are always the happiest." 
 
 Paula was silent.
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 159 
 
 " Youth," continued Mr. Ackley, " is a time of 
 fermentation, of seething, a forming process which 
 has its pain." 
 
 " It has its pain," said Paula, " when it is 
 thwarted." 
 
 " And who cares," said Mr. Acklej, " whether 
 it is thwarted or not ? " 
 
 Paula put down her parasol, which she had still 
 held languidly over one of her shoulders and looked 
 up at the speaker ; looked at him with that old 
 eager search of one who seeks the word that shall 
 unravel a cruel riddle. 
 
 Mr. Ackley had noticed this expression in her 
 face before. It had lured him with its promise of 
 a new experience. It was this remembered look 
 which had brought him to her side now. " Poor 
 little girl ! " he thought. 
 
 " No," he continued to his intent listener, " no- 
 body cares, because nothing counts in this world 
 except results ; there is no time. People do not ask 
 you how were you disappointed, arrested, undone. 
 All they ask is What have you accomplished ? 
 The confessor will bring you back to recounting 
 your crimes when you fall to chattering to him of 
 your temptations, and he's right. Depend upon 
 it, everybody's thwarted. That's but a trifle, and 
 there's no room for trifles and triflers in the world. 
 But the strong people conquer everything."
 
 160 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 " How could one conquer the desire of venge- 
 ance ? " said Paula, tragically. 
 
 " Ah ! " thought Mr. Ackley, " she's there, is 
 she ? How well I recall the landmark." 
 
 " Your inquiry, Mrs. Norwood, is most natural 
 and human, but, depend upon me, there is only one 
 vengeance possible." 
 
 " Did you ever thirst for it for revenge ? " 
 asked Paula, trying to make her tone more light, 
 but with that same avidity for his answer. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Were you ever wronged, and very, very angry ? " 
 
 " Wronged ? Bless me ! lots of times." 
 
 " What did you do ? " 
 
 "What did I do? Well, once I shot a man," 
 he said. 
 
 Paula uttered an exclamation, gazing at the 
 same time at those cared-for hands and brilliant 
 nails. He was rubbing the crystal of his eye-glass 
 between one pointed thumb and index now, and 
 she could not conceive of them as smeared with 
 a fleck of gore. 
 
 " Don't be alarmed," he said, with his usual 
 cynical curl of the mouth ; " I only winged him. 
 He's still dragging about somewhere, if I am not 
 mistaken. I remember how sorry I felt at the time* 
 I had not killed him. But, of course, now it has 
 ceased to be of consequence."
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 161 
 
 There was some feeling some blood in tlie man, 
 then, after all. He was beginning to rise in Paula's 
 estimation. 
 
 " Oh, yes," he continued, " I have been angry 
 and revengeful and wronged particularly wronged 
 and all the rest of it, a dozen times or more, and 
 you see I am quite comfortable." 
 
 Mr. Ackley went down again in Paula's balances. 
 
 " I should hate such a comfort." 
 
 " I dare say, but nevertheless you'll come to it." 
 He gave a little dry cough. 
 
 " Never," said Paula. " I have a nature that 
 can " she corrected herself " that could suffer, 
 suffer, suffer and never tire." 
 
 Mr. Ackley stirred on the narrow hard bench 
 that bent under his weight. To the man who has 
 done with life's extremes, this fever of living has 
 something wearying. 
 
 " You'll tire," he said, shortly ; " when once you 
 want to. At first one doesn't want to. It's like 
 faith. Only the prayer of faith is answered," and 
 he laughed. 
 
 His laugh jarred upon her, yet something in his 
 talk was fascinating. 
 
 " Was the vengeance sweet. ? " she asked. 
 
 " No," he said, " it didn't amount to a row of 
 pins. There's a vengeance of another kind, but one 
 
 finds that out later." 
 11
 
 162 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 " Tell it me," said the girl. 
 
 " The only vengeance we can take upon another 
 is to become something ourselves. 
 
 " To become something ? " 
 
 " I mean that there is but one revenge, if you 
 like to call it so, Mrs. Norwood, which is of any 
 profit or solace, and that is to dazzle another with 
 our own successes. Believe me, to maim an antag- 
 onist is a poor, base pleasure. It is better to be 
 learning to fly ourselves." 
 
 " I think," said Paula eagerly, " I understand 
 you." 
 
 " The day they watch our flight" Mr. Ack- 
 ley gathered the tips of his left-hand fingers to- 
 gether and then threw up his arm suddenly, open- 
 ing his palm as if giving its liberty to a cap- 
 tive bird " they don't like it a bit, and we are 
 revenged." 
 
 Paula drew a little nearer to him. " Yes, yes," 
 she said, hurriedly "yes, yes ... a man can do 
 anything ! I see, I understand. What could a 
 woman do ? What that would be heard, would 
 be known ? " 
 
 I have said she always dismissed the thought of 
 her husband, but when it did persist and hold her 
 she had but one idea, one longing that she might 
 but make him suffer one iota of what he had inflict- 
 ed upon her.
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 163 
 
 " What could a woman do who has no genius, 
 very little courage ? " 
 
 " Let me see," he said reflectively. " Let me 
 see ! The concluding clause you'll have to leave 
 out, for all endeavor, Mrs. Norwood, needs courage, 
 but we'll say no genius. That's handicap enough. 
 Well, let me see ! She might . . . she might be- 
 come the fashion." 
 
 " The fashion ! " Paula's expectant excitement 
 fell. 
 
 " Not so easy, not so easy, my dear young 
 lady," said Mr. Ackley, " and I see it is the difficult 
 to which you aspire. Depend upon it, notwith- 
 standing that your passionate heart protests against 
 my suggestion depend upon it it's a great power." 
 
 " My heart is not passionate ; it's as cold as 
 ice." 
 
 " She's even younger than I thought," he said to 
 himself, " but she's quite delightful." 
 
 " To become the fashion a woman must be ready 
 for sacrifice." 
 
 " Sacrifice of what ? " said Paula. " I thought 
 it was all frivolity." 
 
 " Do not believe it. She must sacrifice her own 
 penchants, her narrowness, her predilections, her 
 prejudices, her disagreeable idiosyncrasies. She has 
 to get out of the cramped domestic life, which is 
 always the unsocial. Why, it is an education."
 
 164 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 " One couldn't brood and be morbid," said 
 Paula, tentatively. 
 
 " Of course not. Women of the world present 
 a cheerful front always, and smile with a death 
 wound in their breast. Why, they're splendid ! " 
 "That'll fetch her," he thought. "She craves the 
 heroic." 
 
 Paula's whole face beamed with a momentary 
 inspiration 
 
 " Oh ! " she said, clasping her hands. 
 
 " Yes, many's the time that I have admired their 
 pluck. They don't go moping around avoiding 
 people, I tell you. Not they! They're always 
 to the fore to take the first volley. Don't you 
 suppose they've been thwarted too? The fact is, 
 society recognizes no one's right to intrude sor- 
 row upon it. That is, no doubt, one reason it has 
 imposed mourning, a moment's retirement. Be- 
 lieve me, an elegy, and particularly one in petti- 
 coats, is an offense against common sense. Jere- 
 miads become a bore, and they may be breathed as 
 well as spoken. You ossify, fossilize, and are tram- 
 pled under. There's no satisfaction. We all have 
 our place to fill, and if not one, we must be ready 
 and supple to shift to another. It is what you do, 
 not what you might have done, of which you will 
 be asked, and a sorry spectacle you make of your- 
 self if you bring nothing to the banquet to which
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 165 
 
 we are all invited. It's a very nice sort of a meal, 
 depend upon it, dear Mrs. Norwood. The viands 
 are rich and savory to those who understand how to 
 enjoy them ; and, now, you will be voting me very 
 prosy, so I will bid you good-day," and he rose to 
 depart. 
 
 She rose too. " Mr. Ackley ! " 
 
 " Mrs. Norwood." 
 
 But she shook her head. No, she could not. 
 Then she looked up at him once more and caught 
 his keen eyes fixed upon her face, and she detected 
 in them a gleam of extreme kindliness, of a be- 
 nevolence that emboldened her in her loneliness to 
 say to him falteringly, " Mr. Ackley, what shall I 
 do?" 
 
 " Make friends, make friends, make friends," he 
 said three times, slowly and gently, and hoisting 
 the umbrella and waving 'the palm-leaf fan, like a 
 well-ballasted and full-rigged vessel with topsails 
 and spinnaker, all set ready for a race, he bore 
 away out of sight. 
 
 "What he said was intended for me," Paula 
 thought, looking after him : " I have changed my 
 mind about him. I believe he is good." 
 
 When Mr. Ackley, perspiring, arrived at " Os- 
 prey," he found the Princess lying at full length on 
 a low divan buried amid cushions under the fes- 
 tooned creepers. She was as usual swathed in a
 
 166 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 wonderfully graceful robe, opened at the throat, 
 which clung to her shapeliness, falling closely to 
 the tips of her pointed slippers. 
 
 "Where in the world have you been all this 
 blessed morning ? " she asked as he came up the 
 steps. 
 
 " I've been sitting on the beach under a pear 
 tree with Tragedy." 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Yes, I have, and I gave the little warrior some 
 ammunition from my cartouche and a good deal 
 of hardtack out of my own rations, such a good 
 commissary am I." 
 
 " Did she take to it kindly and eat ? " 
 
 " She made grimaces at first didn't like the 
 taste, but by and by she swallowed it and even 
 came back for more." 
 
 "How very interesting! What did you talk 
 about?" 
 
 " Our wrongs." 
 
 " I don't Ixjlieve a word of it. She never speaks 
 of hers." 
 
 " She didn't actually make me confidences ; she 
 didn't tell me what a wretch * he ' was, but we 
 understood each other. There's a drop of fierce- 
 ness in that girl that I find attractive." 
 
 " The poor young thing ! You could do her 
 good."
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 16T 
 
 " I mean to. I like her." 
 
 " Say that again and I'll jump up and kiss 
 you." 
 
 " Don't ! I'm overheated enough already in the 
 cardiac region." 
 
 " My kiss gives no fevers." 
 
 " I should say not ! The contact of an ice- 
 berg." 
 
 "Bah!" 
 
 " But then you must remember that I have just 
 learned to be a cabbage after years of ineffectual 
 struggle, have learned to crush out every natural 
 impulse of manhood, and you talk of upsetting all 
 this again in a minute, and just for your own 
 selfish ends, a mere whim, when you know per- 
 fectly well that your cold kiss would kindle dead 
 ashes." 
 
 Under the persiflage there was that slight tinge 
 of bitterness which occasionally pierced through 
 Mr. Ackley's talk, and did not escape Mrs. Heath- 
 cote. 
 
 " Apropos of our Tragedy," she said imper- 
 sonally, "why do you like her?" 
 
 " I like her I like her because she has every 
 pristine emotion intact, and is a refreshment to 
 the thirsty cabbage in the sand. Now you and I, 
 for instance, are incapable of a righteous indigna- 
 tion"
 
 168 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 " Speak for yourself ! I am indignant at this 
 very moment. If that man has ill-used her it was 
 brutal of him. What do you know about him ? " 
 
 " Very little. He stands well with men, and is 
 a handsome fellow. I've just seen him, that's all. 
 If I remember well he looks a little like her, like 
 his wife. I've heard he had a vigorous talent and 
 an excellent record, as people say, but then that's 
 the kind, Mrs. Heathcote, who always raise the 
 devil. A creature like myself, for instance, would 
 be incapable of creating scandal." 
 
 " Let sleeping dogs lie," said his hostess, mys- 
 teriously. 
 
 " O, when I was young ! but these stall-fed 
 fellows who turn in so regularly, let them but once 
 get their necks over the wall, smell the green 
 pastures even from afar, and up go their heels 
 and away over their heads for the madcap gallop. 
 I tell you what, they're the devil." 
 
 " .Do you call it being stall-fed to be married to 
 a sweet creature like that ? " 
 
 "She is sweet, very sweet, but she's got no 
 humor." 
 
 " Is that a new cause for divorce ? " 
 
 " I have known less logical ones." 
 
 " She's intelligent." 
 
 " Very ; but that type of woman is a bit pon- 
 derous, particularly in early youth. More so some-
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 169 
 
 times than the sluggish ones. The melody of their 
 song is charming, no doubt, but always on one 
 note. It waxes fatiguing." 
 
 " I thought you admired her ? " 
 
 " I am not married to her, and then I am very 
 patient and very old." 
 
 " Oh, yes ; you and I are veterans, but age does 
 not teach me patience. The older I grow the less 
 time I have to waste." 
 
 " You are quite right. You have not learned 
 patience ; you have taken pupils in that branch of 
 learning and taught it to them effectually. But 
 for you to talk of age! Why you might be my 
 granddaughter. You look younger than Mrs. Nor- 
 wood." 
 
 "Take care, or I'll carry my late threat into 
 execution. I adore you ! " 
 
 "It's too late. You killed me years ago. 
 There's nothing left to adore." 
 
 " Oh, dear, kind friend, is there not ? " said the 
 Princess, with a sudden, tender seriousness on her 
 beautiful face. 
 
 Then the boys came up from the beach, the 
 younger one with his hands full of seaweed and 
 shells he was eager about natural history the 
 older almost a young gentleman now, preparing 
 for college on an arduous regime of tennis and 
 polo. She accepted with nonchalance the contact
 
 170 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 of the Triton's dirty fingers upon her light gar- 
 ments. " To influence men you must not object to 
 such trifles," she always said she who was so fine 
 of perception that she would never appear before 
 her servants in attire that was not becoming. She 
 displayed coquetry even for her maid, and her 
 children looked upon her as a goddess. "It is 
 not enough to be loved," she would say. " I can 
 not live without being admired." 
 
 Now they had just had their swim. She list- 
 ened, apparently in rapt attention to their tales of 
 the morning's adventures in and out of the deep, 
 and only dismissed them when it was time to dress 
 for her drive. "While doing so she thought less of 
 them than of her new young friend. " Poor little 
 thing," she said half aloud. " I must encourage her 
 to occupy herself, to read, to study this intro- 
 spection and retrospection will never do." 
 
 She did, in fact, plead with Paula to give her 
 German lessons and twice a week they met of a 
 morning over Goethe and Schiller. " You know 
 more German than I do," said Paula to her, laugh- 
 ing, " and this is philanthropy, like all your other 
 kindnesses."
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 EVERYBODY at East Brompton decided that Mrs. 
 Heathcote knew how to give a dance. The large 
 house party hastily summoned for the occasion said 
 so, and all the transient flitters who were bidden, 
 and so thought Paula, who arrived in the white 
 gown with its golden girdle when everything was 
 already in full swing. The verandas were illumi- 
 nated with cut-glass lanterns imported for the occa- 
 sion, which were, however, thrust into insignifi- 
 cance by the radiance of a splendid moon. The 
 drawing-rooms, halls, and stairs had been trans- 
 formed into a bewildering labyrinth of palms and 
 ferns, for which a distant greenhouse had evidently 
 been ruthlessly plundered, while great vases of 
 sweet-smelling flowers stood about on every landing 
 and in every available corner and niche. 
 
 " You are no longer Crown Princess, you are a 
 Queen to-night," whispered Paula to her hostess, as 
 she entered and made her courtesy. " You are re- 
 gal, and this is a veritable scene of enchantment."
 
 172 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 " Come to me later, at Newport," replied the 
 Princess, smiling under her low hair crowned with 
 its diamond ivy leaves. " I'll show you a really 
 smart ball. This is only a children's frolic. That 
 will be much better." 
 
 " Oh ! " said Paula. " Newport ! I dare not ! " 
 and she passed on with the arriving guests into the 
 ball room. 
 
 Here a half-hour later the Princess sought her 
 where she was standing with Mr. Ackley beside her. 
 
 " There's a dudeling, dear, who has tormented 
 me ever since you made your appearance for an in- 
 troduction. He is already your little slave and vas- 
 sal. May I bring him over ? He's a nice boy." 
 
 The " dudeling " turned out to be a young giant, 
 at least when he stood, for he folded himself up 
 when he sat down, and managed to sink out of sight 
 behind Mrs. Norwood's skirts. These were not vo- 
 luminous. The Greek gow r n was narrow, and dis- 
 played the figure and limbs with a proper degree of 
 modern realism. It was certainly extremely pretty, 
 and the women who were present had already re- 
 marked Paula's charming toilet. 
 
 " I noticed you directly," said the dudeling. 
 
 " I think we passed each other the other evening 
 on the beach," answered Paula, smiling. 
 
 The youth seemed to her a familiar figure. 
 Some people make this impression upon us, prob-
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 1^3 
 
 ably because they belong to a distinct and oft-re- 
 peated type. 
 
 " Yes ! But you look so awfully pretty to- 
 night." 
 
 " You are encouraging." 
 
 " Don't make fun of me, Mrs. Norwood. You 
 are really stunning. I am afraid of you." 
 
 He lisped slightly when he spoke, had the ex- 
 pressionless eyes of an antique bust, a complexion 
 suggestive of peaches and cream, and a wide display 
 of shirt front. 
 
 " Yes," he continued, " I noticed you, and I've a 
 great favor to ask of you in fact, it's already set- 
 tled with Mrs. Heathcote. I want you to lead with 
 me to-night." 
 
 "Lead?" 
 
 " Yes, the cotillion. It's not for an hour or two 
 yet. There's plenty of time." 
 
 " What will you say if I tell you I never did 
 such a thing in my life," said Paula. " Do / have 
 to do anything ? " 
 
 " Nothing whatever," replied the dudeling, try- 
 ing not to impart too much surprise to his intona- 
 tion ; " only to be passive and to look as swagger as 
 you choose." 
 
 " Ah ! Both are impracticable." 
 
 " Not to you, I am sure. Besides, Mrs. Heath- 
 cote wants it only a little less than I do."
 
 174 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 " She never spoke to me of this desire." 
 
 " She probably thought that when you saw me 
 you wouldn't want to dance with me." 
 
 " Not with the leader of cotillions ? " asked 
 Paula, laughing. " The great man of the occa- 
 sion ! " 
 
 " Oh, it isn't much to lead down here. They 
 take what they can get," said the dude with a deep 
 sigh. " It's quite dreadful having to rot down here." 
 
 " Do you say that as an inducement to me to 
 dance with you ? Where would you like to be ... 
 rotting?" 
 
 " Why, at Newport, of course. All the fellows 
 are there, and only yesterday I was asked to go 
 down on the ' Now Then ! ' The yachts are getting 
 under way for the cruise, you know. Miss Piper 
 was to be on board, and Mrs. Gresham. Do you 
 know the Greshams and Miss Piper, the great 
 Washington belle and heiress ? Nice kind of girl. 
 Do you think she'd do for me ? " 
 
 " In what capacity ? " said Paula. 
 
 " You're laughing at me all the time," said the 
 dudeling. 
 
 " I can not help it," said Paula. " You have 
 such a funny face." 
 
 " I'm glad I please you, I'm sure," said the dude. 
 " Delighted that I'm ' funny 'it's the highest com- 
 pliment women ever pay me."
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 1Y5 
 
 " But why couldn't you go on the * Now Then ' 
 with Miss Piper ? " 
 
 " I have to work," gloomily. 
 
 " Very hard ? " 
 
 " The fact is, Mrs. Norwood, the governors firm 
 went to pot last year, and they've reorganized with 
 me as junior partner." He announced this not 
 without an evident touch of pride in his new honors. 
 
 Paula laughed aloud this time. It seemed so 
 absurd. 
 
 " Do you doubt the solidity of the venture, Mrs. 
 Norwood 2 Do you consider the basis of the recon- 
 struction insecure ? " 
 
 " On the contrary," said Paula, " when I saw 
 you on the beach the other day I felt certain that 
 you had great executive ability." 
 
 " Why so ? " 
 
 " You were so beautifully dressed. I was much 
 impressed." 
 
 " How you do chaff ! " 
 
 Then the music started up. 
 
 " Valsons" he said, encircling her with a loose 
 arm. 
 
 The first bars of the waltz started a curious re- 
 membrance in Paula's pulses. Once Frau Schultz, 
 dropping in of an afternoon at the old house by the 
 river, had played this same melody ^of Johann 
 Strauss's, and Norwood, entering suddenly, had
 
 1Y6 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 taken her off her feet in an improvised rush of the 
 dance. A swift pain shot through her and a sense 
 of pity and of tenderness toward the man whom 
 she had spurned and left forever. His face seemed 
 for a moment to look at her reproachfully over the 
 shoulder of her tall partner. 
 
 " Ah ! but I loved him ! " 
 
 Then the black mood threatened her for an in- 
 stant with its lurid cloudburst, but was resolutely, 
 instantly pushed away crushed under the treading 
 feet of the merrymakers. 
 
 By and by Colonel Heathcote stepped forward 
 and offered her his arm to lead her to supper. She 
 took it timidly, for she was a little afraid of him, 
 yet proudly, for she was touched at the attention. 
 What young woman would not have been ? It was 
 evident that these good friends were expressly 
 making her the central figure of their entertain- 
 ment. She said a word to Mr. Ackley after leav- 
 ing the supper room " They have been so kind 
 to me." 
 
 " Who would not be ? " 
 
 " But from her such a queen ! " 
 
 " Yes, she's a remarkable woman." 
 
 " Do you believe she really likes me ? " 
 
 " I am sure of it, and it is the more nattering 
 that she is a man's woman, and not given to fiddle- 
 faddle with her own sex."
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 177 
 
 " Yet all these women flock to her ? " 
 
 " Of course they do. There are the dull ones, 
 who come because she startles them ; the would-be 
 wits, who come to obtain new points of view ; the 
 ill-dressed, who come to see her clothes ; the social 
 aspirants, who come for the brevet of fashion she 
 can give them. Not to mention those rudderless, 
 aimless, anchorless women, who drift about on the 
 sea of chance anyhow, anywhere, for pastime, to see 
 and be seen, gossip and cackle the kind who are 
 nothing and nobodies, and yet are always under 
 one's feet. They are not wives or mothers, or even 
 housekeepers ; can not give you a decent dinner, or 
 even keep their children properly clad ; read noth- 
 ing, know nothing ; will not listen when you speak 
 to them on any subject art, literature, politics, sci- 
 ence, religion. There are hundreds of such they 
 are thicker than whortleberries in the August 
 woods. God knows what they were created for I 
 don't. I suppose the priests would say as a chast- 
 ening. That kind pester the life out of a woman 
 like Mrs. Heathcote, a woman with serious aims 
 and ambitions. Is it a wonder she keeps them at a 
 distance, and is thought cold ? " 
 
 " Is she cold ? " 
 
 " Mrs. Heathcote is a perfectly balanced being," 
 said Mr. Ackley, "or she has gained equipoise 
 
 through the force of her own will. She is a woman 
 12
 
 1Y8 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 of heart and of intellect, but ambition is probably 
 the ruling motor of her to-day." 
 
 " I am sure it is no petty one." 
 
 "There you are right. She has had the best 
 ambition a personal one. She has made of her- 
 self an accomplished woman, a perfect flower of 
 civilization. We have not many such. I have 
 knocked about a good deal I have not found 
 many anywhere, believe me. She has not been 
 content to hang on to a man's coat tails and drag 
 him down and hamper him in his career. She 
 has made Heathcote ; she will make his sons." 
 
 Paula was dying to ask if she had married her 
 husband for love, but her delicacy forbade. Be- 
 sides she was not sure if she wished entirely to 
 dispel the aroma of mystery which hung always 
 for her about her goddess. Paula had learned to 
 fear the searching light of Psyche's lamp from 
 which must ever fall its drop of scorching oil. 
 The Princess had passed serenely and safely from 
 the realm of idealism to the commonplace one of 
 an acquaintance. It is a tribute to her power that 
 in so doing she had lost nothing. It is usually the 
 unknown which impresses us. 
 
 " No," went on Mr. Ackley, " I, for one, am 
 sick of those people who are always complaining 
 that ill luck has pursued them. The fact is, they 
 are usually infernally lazy dogs who have not had
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. If9 
 
 industry enough to learn their A, B, C's. The 
 plums don't fall into the sluggards' mouths. No 
 attainment is possible until we have disciplined 
 ourselves. It's all nonsense. I asked a woman 
 once who had facility with her pen why she did not 
 wield it to some purpose. She answered that she 
 had no literary surroundings, no library, no books 
 of reference, no repose. Under such circumstances 
 what good work could be expected 2 I replied that 
 I believed the best book would be written in a 
 prison or a garret with a match dipped in one's 
 own blood." 
 
 " You ignore misfortune, then," said Paula, 
 with her old eager manner, " which cripples and 
 paralyzes ? " 
 
 " Misfortune must be overcome. It can be. I 
 speak from experience. I have overcome the worst 
 that could have happened to me." 
 
 " Singleton Ackley seems to be all gone on you, 
 Mrs. Norwood, a complete mash. Those old night- 
 ingales get all the smiles. Dear me ! I wish I had 
 some of his money," said the dude, coming up 
 breathlessly to claim his cotillion. 
 
 "And I wish I had his youth," sighed Mr. 
 Ackley, who heard the remark, looking back as he 
 gave up his seat. 
 
 " He's no end of a swell," said the dude. 
 
 "Really!"
 
 180 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 "Why, of course. His house is a curio. Just 
 piled up with rare bric-a-brac and things, and his 
 dinners are immense." 
 
 " How do you exactly define a swell ? I know 
 the creature by sight," said Paula. 
 
 "Let me see! He's the fellow who gets the 
 best of everything the best women to talk to, the 
 best hunter to ride, the best house to stop in, the 
 best wine to drink and cigars to smoke and the fun 
 of it is he need not have a penny himself if he has 
 only got cheek enough." 
 
 " How does he compass it all?" 
 
 " Why, sometimes he fastens himself on to a rich 
 establishment, like this one, for instance that's the 
 easiest way and plays it for all it's worth. The 
 husband goes down town in an early train, and the 
 swell lies abed all the morning, rides his host's 
 horses all the afternoon, and makes love to madame 
 in the evening." 
 
 " Mr. Ackley was right," thought Paula. " It's 
 quite an education." 
 
 " Mrs. Norwood," said Mrs. Heathcote, ap- 
 proaching on a gentleman's arm, " may I present 
 to you the Prince de Montreuil ? " 
 
 " He brought Heathcote letters," she managed 
 to murmur quickly into Paula's ear. " He's going 
 around the world on a pleasure trip," and she 
 nodded and glided on, leaving these two together.
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 181 
 
 He had a pale, serious face, lit up by a pair of 
 melancholy eyes. They gazed at Paula with a 
 peculiar expression, as if they would read into her 
 very soul. She found herself turning her own away 
 embarrassed from their deep scrutiny. She had 
 for the last hour been perfectly cognizant that from 
 the embrasure of a window those eyes had followed 
 her every movement. It is surely needless to tell 
 the reader that Paula was no coquette, yet it may 
 be said that the assurance that one is awakening 
 interest in a stranger who carries about him an air 
 of unusual distinction does not rob a ball of the 
 zest of its enjoyment. He did not certainly re- 
 semble exteriorily Frau Schultz's description of 
 Prince Pus Pus, Paula wondered, nevertheless, if 
 he might not possess some of this nobleman's rare 
 fascinations and destructive characteristics. He 
 certainly did not look like any of the other men 
 present ; neither to Theodore Albert Charles Marie, 
 Marquis de Stirbey, Prince de Montreuil, did this 
 sweet sauvage woman look like the other women. 
 
 This impression of the unique and exceptional 
 was reciprocal. He had not the slightest desire to 
 fall in love with a married woman he knew what 
 that meant, pah ! and when he had asked who the 
 demoiselle was he had been a trifle disappointed at 
 the answer. When he went up for the final intro- 
 duction it was more to assure himself of his mistake,
 
 182 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 to make certain that she was an ordinary Yankee 
 with a sharp voice, and that her charm was but the 
 trick of an imagination which was always playing 
 him these pranks. Yet when she addressed him in 
 pretty French w r ith her adorable American accent, 
 in her grave, deep voice, he could hardly explain to 
 himself the sudden joy that inundated his being. 
 He had lived much and probably had lived ill, yet 
 there had remained with him the longing for a real- 
 ized ideal, that longing which the profligate and the 
 plodding moralist may share alike. It must be 
 admitted that the will-o-the-wisp of romance had 
 lured him before, but then it is always possible that 
 this may be the genuine thing after all, the turn of 
 the wheel, the psychic moment. Did he fancy he 
 had found it to-night? If so, where was the 
 harm ? 
 
 He offered Paula his arm and she took it silent- 
 ly, telling her dude, who looked rather crestfallen 
 at this new turn of affairs, to arrange their seat and 
 start the dance, and that she would return in ten 
 minutes. She was only going to the piazza for one 
 breath of air and moonlight. She conscientiously 
 did so returned, I mean and between her and De 
 Montreuil very few words had been exchanged. 
 
 " I watched you nearly all the evening," he had 
 said when they stood outside alone in the silent, 
 flower-scented night.
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 183 
 
 Somehow the words carried more effect than 
 the dudeling's similar avowals of the earlier even- 
 ing. 
 
 " Were you forming an opinion ? " asked Paula. 
 
 All this new homage was beginning to get into 
 her brain a little. It was like wine. Her feet felt 
 light and tireless. Her cheeks were flushed with 
 two crimson stains the color of Jacqueminot roses. 
 
 " Yes," said the Prince, with his deep eyes upon 
 her. 
 
 " That I was frivolous ? " she asked, smiling. 
 
 " No." 
 
 " What then ? " a little impatiently. 
 
 " That you were a person who laughed and 
 danced, and underneath " he paused. 
 
 " Underneath ? " 
 
 " Un grand chagrin. Yes," he continued, " it 
 was an inspiration, an illumination. Those who 
 have suffered know these things, and that is why I 
 was so supremely attracted. I saw your true soul's 
 visage, madame, for a moment under its mask." 
 
 As he spoke he just touched the hand which lay 
 upon his arm, reverently, as one might a child's or 
 a queen's. 
 
 This was, indeed, a strange experience. 
 
 " I saw you among all these people, and I knew 
 that you* were not of them. There is an idiom 
 great souls speak, of which the weak ones, Its dmes
 
 184 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 faibles" he went on, " have not the grammar, not 
 the first intuition, and it was your soul that I saw 
 and admired, and I was elevated. "Was it sacrilege ? " 
 
 " You overrate me," said Paula faintly. The 
 smell of the roses and jasmines made her dizzy. 
 
 " Let me do so then," he said gently. " Do not 
 dispel an illusion which was a vital instinct and 
 which has made me happy for an hour. You do 
 not begrudge me one short hour ? No ? " he con- 
 tinued, smiling, but the smile did not reach farther 
 than his lips. " You are not so parsimonious ? 
 Admiration is a noble, a healthy feeling ! Its influ- 
 ence upon the mind is surely beneficial. If you 
 do not want my sympathy, madame, it can not hurt 
 you to have me throw it under your feet." 
 
 His voice was almost tender. Paula's eyes 
 filled with tears. 
 
 " I wonder what that French prig is saying to 
 her? He's stuffing her with some damned non- 
 sense, I'll wager," thought Singleton Ackley, peer- 
 ing through a window shutter Mrs. Heathcote had 
 bid him close. " She looks quite upset." 
 
 The Prince had seen those beads of dew gather 
 under Paula's eyelids. It is not to be supposed that 
 they quelled his " sympathy." They went back and 
 the cotillion was danced. The Prince in his role of 
 seriousness did not dance. He stood by tfie wall in 
 an attitude at once noble and depressed, never los-
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 185 
 
 ing sight of Paula for a moment. Few experiences 
 are more delightful to a woman than to be thus 
 watched during the evolutions of superficial and 
 minor successes. Paula was not entirely impervious 
 to the charm. As I have said, the excitement had 
 reached her brain. Its titillations were ephemeral 
 but agreeable. Certainly her first gayety had been 
 a triumph. 
 
 " Reginald," asked the Princess of her husband 
 when all the guests had departed, and even the 
 house party had straggled up-stairs yawning to bed, 
 " what do you think of Mrs. Norwood ? " 
 
 " She seems very ladylike," said the Colonel. 
 Women played a slender part in his horoscope. 
 This was enthusiasm for him. 
 
 " She had a positive success to-night." 
 
 " Yes, she seemed to get on very nicely for a 
 stranger." 
 
 " How extraordinary that Paul Sorchan's daugh- 
 ter should be a stranger." 
 
 The Colonel was sleepy. " It's time you went 
 to bed, Antoinette. You've all these people on 
 your hands to-morrow. You looked lovely," he 
 said, and came forward and kissed her on the brow. 
 
 Yes, the Prince had seen the tears. Seen them, 
 but he hardly went so far as to long to drink them. 
 He was thirsting for a rendezvous in the azure, 
 hungry for the ethereal. Men and women have
 
 186 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 made such appointments before and have failed to 
 find each other ... in the azure. But he could 
 not for a moment doubt Paula's ingenuousness. Its 
 assurances were transparent. He informed himself 
 as discreetly as he could of her past, and when he 
 was told that she was a young woman who had 
 lately separated from her husband, he said to him- 
 self and this was very courteous of him " She is 
 innocent." He remained three days at East Bromp- 
 ton, and passed the greater portion of each at Mrs. 
 Sorchan's cottage. This latter lady had not been at 
 the ball, but accepted the Prince as a floatsam from 
 its tides with becoming civility. Anything was bet- 
 ter than Paula's " mood." She did not call it thus, 
 but she had learned to dread its approach and to 
 recognize its signals. 
 
 Paula thought so, too. For three days she en- 
 joyed the companionship of a man who never jarred 
 upon her, never offended her taste, understood her 
 before she had spoken, and all in the most delight- 
 ful and never to be regained period of an acquaint- 
 ance its beginning. As for De Montreuil, he 
 seemed to be drinking of a cup of enchantment. 
 Her refinement suited him exactly to-day. If his 
 thirst for happiness was great and the drops ac- 
 corded to his soul's famine but few, their flavor, at 
 least, was exquisite. He had once been a gour- 
 mand ; he was now a gourmet. He would not have
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 187 
 
 exchanged this cup for one which should have been 
 filled to the brim with draughts of warmer, coarser 
 pleasures. To her he said, " The first moment I 
 saw you enter that ball-room I knew you would be 
 a Gibraltar," and Paula had liked this speech. 
 
 On that last day, strolling near the sea together, 
 they saw the dude lying at full length upon the 
 sands, his head in close proximity to a young lady's 
 lap, and the same umbrella shading them both. 
 The girl had on a bright light gown and a gay hat. 
 
 " Oh, the perfidious ! " said Paula. " Fair, faith- 
 less, and false !" 
 
 Just then he espied Mrs. Norwood, and, spring- 
 ing up on his long legs, ran after her with lumber- 
 ing steps through the deep embankment whose 
 white dust almost entombed him. 
 
 " Mrs. Norwood ! " he cried. " Mrs. Norwood ! 
 Stop ! I want to speak with you ! " 
 
 She wore the Parisian dress and the wide hat 
 which a special interposition of Providence seemed 
 now to have definitely glued to her dark hair. It 
 fell off no more. 
 
 " What ! You break up that cosy flirtation for 
 me!" 
 
 The dude doubled up and then threw back his 
 head with a roar of riotous laughter. 
 
 " Flirtation ! Oh, my ! Oh dear ! Who do you 
 think that is?"
 
 188 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 " I can not imagine." 
 
 " Why, it's my marma." 
 
 De Montreuil smiled increduously. Tliese Yan- 
 kee boys were proverbially shrewd. This was cer- 
 tainly a bold stroke. 
 
 " Your marma ? " she asked. 
 
 " Yes, yes, my mother. Just arrived. Stopping 
 at Taft's for a couple of weeks. I want to present 
 her to you. She's just wild to meet you. Well, 
 that's a farce ! You took her to be my best girl ! 
 Won't she be pleased!" 
 
 The lady had arisen and was approaching 
 slowly. She was found to have the same lisp, the 
 same round, vacant eye, the same red and white 
 skin, only instead of the shirt collar she wore a lot 
 of soft pink crape about her creamy throat. She 
 looked exactly the same age as her son about 
 twenty. 
 
 " Mrs. Norwood thought it was a flirtation ! " 
 doubling up again, with a shout. 
 
 "People say Tad looks like my big brother," 
 said the lady. 
 
 " I took you for a little girl." 
 
 " I am well preserved," she said, looking at De 
 Montreuil coquettishly, and arranging her hat and 
 veil. 
 
 Mrs. Norwood introduced the Prince, and was 
 very gracious to the young mother. She remem-
 
 A PURITAN PAG AX. 189 
 
 bered Mr. Ackley's " Make friends." She was be- 
 coming an apt pupil. Would she some day go far- 
 ther than her master had intended ? The animal 
 instinct of self-preservation was beginning to stir 
 within her. It was a good sign. Distraction must 
 be had at any cost. It was better to be bored than 
 to lose one's reason. 
 
 "You have completely bewitched Tad," said 
 that young gentleman's mother. " He goes on so I 
 wanted to see you. I believe you know Mrs. 
 Heathcote ? " 
 
 " Yes," Paula said. 
 
 They all sat down together in the sun and 
 chatted. It was easy and pleasant. Mrs. Nailer 
 managed to place herself next to De Montreuil. 
 She gave him, in spite of her ardent desire to 
 see Paula, more of her attention than the latter. 
 But he was very clever, and his attitude remained, 
 although civil, reserved and cold. He still looked 
 across the new comer at Paula with a sad fixity. 
 
 " That man has soul," thought Paula. 
 
 So Mrs. Nailer was added to the list of 
 " friends." It was all part of the new life. 
 
 After the three days the Prince went away. 
 His party were impatiently kicking their heels in a 
 city hotel awaiting his return. They were on their 
 way to California, and thence to China. 
 
 Paula was rather glad on the whole when he
 
 190 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 had gone. She was afraid she would tell him all 
 her secrets. He was the only person she had ever 
 met who had so tempted her reserve. She missed 
 him dreadfully for a week, and then forgot him. 
 But he remembered her all the way to China, and 
 after, when they met again as they were to do, he 
 had not yet forgotten her.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 DRIVING through the pine woods a few days 
 after his departure, the Princess said to Paula 
 rather abruptly : 
 
 " You completely captivated De Montreuil. Do 
 you like him ? " 
 
 " Very much." 
 
 " Did you not think him rather ... er ... 
 stiff?" 
 
 " I dislike free a:id easy men." 
 
 " Yes, but he's so dismal." 
 
 Paula did not reply that she liked that too, 
 which was the truth. 
 
 "I used to admire those dreary, one-lunged 
 creatures when I was younger," said the Princess, 
 "but they don't wear well. I have developed a 
 taste lately for a more robust, more manly type." 
 
 She whipped up her ponies. 
 
 " Have you seen Mrs. Nailer ? " she went on. 
 " What do you think of her ? " 
 
 " I have not yet decided. She seems amiable."
 
 192 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 " She's rather a foolish creature, but harmless. 
 I dare say she'll run after you." 
 
 " Why should any one run after me ? unless, in- 
 deed, I am not the rose, but have lived near her ? " 
 
 " Exactly," said the Princess, one of whose 
 charms was a self-appreciation free of mawkishness 
 and hypocrisy. " She's dying to be intimate with 
 us." 
 
 " Is she undesirable ? " 
 
 " Oh, not exactly, and Tad's a dear. But I like 
 to choose my own intimates. One has to protect 
 one's self." 
 
 " What I can not imagine is why you choose 
 me." 
 
 " Dear Paula." 
 
 " Tell me." 
 
 " I saw you in the train and felt the sympathy." 
 
 " Yet we are so different ! " 
 
 " Yes, you are a dreamer and I am practical." 
 
 " Practical ! You are an unwritten poem." 
 
 " Not a bit of it. I am not poetic. I have the 
 artist temperament ; not the poet's." 
 
 " Are they not similar ? " 
 
 " No. You are poetic." 
 
 " Oh, no more." 
 
 "More than ever, I feel sure. But don't be 
 carried away. Keep level-headed. You'll have to 
 be very, very careful."
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 193 
 
 Paula felt a little offended. They were hurry- 
 ing her along, pushing her to these things, and 
 now they said to her " Be careful." These level- 
 ing processes were rather tame after the Prince's 
 adoration. 
 
 " I have no temptation," she said a little haught- 
 ily. " I am too desperately unhappy." 
 
 " Ah ! the rebound," said Mrs. Heathcote 
 " that will be a dangerous moment." 
 
 " There can be no rebound." 
 
 " It will come." 
 
 " Never." 
 
 " Don't be angry, Paula. I really love you." 
 
 " I could not be angry with you, dear Mrs. 
 Heathcote, after all your kindness" still a little 
 coldly. 
 
 " That sounds perfunctory, and between you 
 and me 'it is needless. I detest cant phrases. You 
 attract me ; I seek you. We are quits. But men, 
 my child, are on the qui vive to dry the tears from 
 off the cheeks of young women they believe un- 
 happy. The fact of your position will, of course, 
 awaken their interest and pique their curiosity ; 
 you will find yourself sometimes misunderstood, 
 under all this fire of homage, with your burning 
 Sappho face. While I know little of your past I 
 strongly, nay, urgently, advise you to go into the 
 
 world. I feel certain that to mix with people is 
 13
 
 194 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 the wiser course for you. It is enlarging and 
 softening, whatever may be said to the contrary. 
 It is indeed a small soul that contact with the world 
 shrivels and injures. People prate of sympathy, 
 but what we need is friction, little Paula. In the 
 world there is emulation. We can not be slipshod 
 and slovenly. When we begin to say ' Anything 
 will do,' we are lost, for we are all lazy. It is 
 possible to be in the world and keep sweet. Be- 
 sides forming our manners society enlarges the 
 circle of our influence. It is an excellent compass ; 
 it shows us our bearings ; teaches us its value and 
 our own. People who do not keep in touch with 
 the times are generally monstrous egotists; they 
 fancy themselves the monopolists of thought, and 
 are amazed that a worldling may have an idea. I 
 believe when we accept each passing pleasure, 
 happiness and content may be found in the end. 
 If they are not, one will at least have learned 
 something. But be extremely pmdent. Carry 
 your foil aloft, or you will miss the future I have 
 arranged for you." 
 
 " There is no future ; but I was always told I 
 was too cold." 
 
 " You are not cold, although men will tell you 
 so to gain their own ends. You have a warm and 
 loving nature. How many men have insisted that 
 I was ' marble ' because I would not for their sake
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 195 
 
 kill my mother, abandon my children, and throw 
 poor Reginald out of the window ! I wonder if 
 they would have committed half of these crimes 
 for my sake ! And crime requires a certain hero- 
 ism, or recklessness if you like the word better 
 a courage of which I feel certain these fine gentle- 
 men were quite incapable." 
 
 " You withered them, I am sure, with your 
 imperious contempt." 
 
 " Oh, my dear, not a bit. That's old fashioned. 
 The ' avaunt, ruffian ' is out of date, and has become 
 as ridiculous as the duello. No, when they make 
 love to me I am amused, and sometimes I like it. 
 Nothing teaches us the delightful ingenuousness of 
 man like his love-making. Generally their senti- 
 ment is not profound or grave enough to hurt 
 anybody ; and should it develop into a great passion 
 the man is improved and elevated, taken out of 
 himself and away from a deal of mischief." 
 
 " Tad was ingenuous," laughed Paula, " when 
 he asked me if Miss Piper would do for him." 
 
 " Ah ! Poor Tad ! Men who have all run to 
 legs are apt to be foolish." 
 
 " You can afford to laugh at them all, but at 
 that game some weaker women have burned their 
 fingers." 
 
 " Not necessarily weaker ; stronger, perhaps ; 
 that is just what I warn you against ; never to take
 
 196 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 these things too seriously. There are problems 
 more important than love and happiness." 
 
 " Ah ! but I crave just these, and now I distrust 
 every one." 
 
 " Oh, no, you do not." 
 
 " Doubt it if you will. I know I have learned 
 that lesson," said Paula bitterly. 
 
 " You will unlearn it. We all have to, if we are 
 to live at all." 
 
 " What am I to do ?" asked Paula piteously. 
 
 " Whenever you are in doubt come and we will 
 talk it over. The years have left a certain wisdom 
 with me," and on Mrs. Heathcote's face that shadow 
 fell which Paula had seen upon it sometimes when 
 she had passed with her gay companion on the river- 
 side in the days gone by. 
 
 "Are you not happy?" Paula asked trem- 
 blingly. 
 
 " Oh, yes," said Mrs. Heathcote. " I am happy," 
 but her words did not bring conviction. By and 
 by she said : 
 
 " Do you remember what Mr. Ackley said that 
 day in the train 3 Did you hear ? " 
 
 " Yes, I listened ; I heard." 
 
 " I think that I am like his Yanessa I want the 
 bird and the ship. I have wide lungs ; their aspi- 
 rations are deep. Little narrow-chested people may 
 be content with shorter breaths. Happiness is not
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 197 
 
 enough for a nature like mine ; and how shall one 
 grasp it in a world of sin and of suffering ? No, 
 I never saw even the look of it but once." 
 " Ah ! where did you see it so near ? " 
 " In the eyes of a dying nun ; she belonged to a 
 very poor and obscure order." 
 
 " What did they tell you her eyes 2 " 
 " They told me of the immortal, Paula. All ! 
 that radiance ! " 
 
 Paula slipped her hand into Mrs. Heathcote's 
 palm, and they thus drove home silently through 
 the gloaming which was creeping on apace over a 
 pathless sea. 
 
 When the time came Mrs. Norwood went to 
 Newport. Newport, that goddess Aphrodite, born 
 of the scud and foam, whose graceful limbs and 
 fairy proportions have been a bit marred by being 
 forced into tinsel and tights. Newport, Queen of 
 the Waters ! At once grand and absurd, with her 
 splendid nature and her hideous architecture! A 
 trifle inebriated with her own achievements, on 
 her hands and knees in adoration before the wing 
 of an English castle or the half-peaked roof of 
 a French chateau, gazing, applauding, crowing. 
 "See! See! What have I brought forth?" 
 scumbling a dash of elegance over the thin colors 
 of a hopeless provincialism, over the doings of 
 a few foolish performers who are at once the
 
 198 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 actors and the entranced audience of their own 
 vapid comedy. 
 
 Paula, who knew nothing of the world, but 
 whose perceptions were just wisdom is revealed 
 to babes, we are told felt jarred upon by all these 
 clashing contrasts. She was absolutely wretched 
 the first hours, with the heaviness of heart and ex- 
 cruciating homesickness that is so frequently the 
 first experience in a gay country-house filled with 
 guests, before one has unpacked one's boxes, found 
 one's moorings, or knows exactly what is expected 
 of one. 
 
 In the splendors of the Heathcotes' home and at 
 the " smart " dance which had been predicted to her 
 at East Brompton she found herself, of course, con- 
 siderably less important than in the smaller circle 
 of the early summer. Tad was there, but he, too, 
 slipped about inconspicuously, and seemed some- 
 how to have dwindled as to size and self-assertion. 
 Miss Piper, whose dove's eyes proved to be even 
 more enticing than her ducats, reserved their humid 
 glances for higher game, seeming, indeed, to accord 
 Tad but small favor. 
 
 " How's your marma ? " Paula threw the ques- 
 tion to him at the ball, as they passed each other 
 in the fast-filling rooms. She was glad to see his 
 pleasant and familiar countenance again. 
 
 "She's well. She's still at East Brompton.
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 199 
 
 There's a fellow down there has a mash on her, and 
 I can't get her away. She seems to like him. I 
 don't though, and I'll pull his nose for him soon if 
 she don't." 
 
 Poor Tad, it must be conceded, between his fa- 
 ther's failures and his mother's flirtations had his 
 hands full. 
 
 Paula was not called upon to lead the cotillion 
 this time, which was danced by the hostess herself 
 with one of the older men, and Colonel Heathcote 
 conveyed to supper an elderly dowager profusely 
 befeathered and bediamonded, and of great pride 
 and renown. Nevertheless, after her first feelings 
 of loneliness as she watched this sea of unknown 
 and indifferent faces, the young woman took heart 
 of grace, and managed to be rather amused, if not 
 entirely content. To be entirely content one must 
 sacrifice too much. She made a hundred acquaint- 
 ances that evening and afterward, and that she was 
 stopping at the Heathcotes' seemed an open sesame 
 to every form of entertainment. She was even 
 rather surprised at the extraordinary interest she 
 awakened after announcing this fact in people who 
 had before granted her but a languid and cursory 
 notice. To bask in the smile of greatness is to be 
 great. The prizes of notoriety are quickly tangible. 
 
 "Have you seen Antoinette Heathcotes' last 
 fad ? " some one asked of somebody else.
 
 200 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 " No. Where is he ? " 
 
 " He ! Why, it's a woman." 
 
 " A woman ! Brune, I suppose ; a foil to her 
 fairness." 
 
 "Yes, exactly. She's a daughter of Sorchan, 
 the scientist. Antoinette picked her up somewhere 
 this summer. She's really quite distinguished look- 
 ing." 
 
 " Is she er larky 3 " 
 
 "I dare say. I hear she's separated from her 
 husband." 
 
 "Whew! That's promising What's his 
 name ? " 
 
 " Norwood." 
 
 . " What ! The great patent-man who's becoming 
 a celebrity ? " 
 
 " I never heard of him." 
 
 " Don't you read the papers ? " 
 
 " Now and then when I have time." 
 
 "They were full of his telephone case last 
 year." 
 
 " Is that she ? Why ! she is attractive ! Intro- 
 duce me ! " 
 
 Among the shufflings and shiftings of this 
 sparkling panorama, it came to pass that the Presi- 
 dent, hurrying through Newport, attended by a 
 suite of United States Senators and minor satellites, 
 was proffered a large dinner at " Heathcote," and
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 201 
 
 Paula felt herself more at home with these men 
 than with the gayer butterflies, the intricacies of 
 whose Masonic language she was only just begin- 
 ning to unravel. She enjoyed this semi-official 
 evening particularly. The President, a short man 
 with a strident voice, a large head, and a protruding 
 abdomen, when told she was Paul Sorchan's daugh- 
 ter, took her hand in his and spoke in warm praises 
 of her father. The fact of her parentage seemed 
 to commend her more to him than that she was a 
 guest at " Heathcote." This last accident was evi- 
 dently an insignificant detail to a ruler of millions. 
 And Paula thought him a very nice man, indeed, 
 little guessing that she w r as soon to meet him again, 
 and under unusual auspices. 
 
 Paula spoke of her enjoyment to the Princess 
 when these two ladies were stretched, one on the 
 bed and the other on the sofa, of Mrs. Heathcotes' 
 spacious bedroom in one of those long vigils whose 
 values are best known to the subtle and sagacious 
 sex. Is the plotting against the stronger one one 
 of the uses of these secret symposiums? How 
 many conspiracies have germed in their sessions? 
 How many reputations have been passed about and 
 battered ? How many state secrets as well as pri- 
 vate have been recklessly divulged ? 
 
 " Did you really amuse yourself, my dear ? To 
 me it was a twice-told tale. I confess I was tired to
 
 202 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 death. But tell me, was the dinner good ? " asked 
 Mrs. Heathcote, not without some measure of 
 anxiety. 
 
 " Why, of course ; superlatively so, like every- 
 thing you have. I don't believe the President had 
 ever seen anything so beautiful and delicate before 
 and all those superb exotics and orchids ! " 
 
 " Ah ! Poor thing ! No, I dare say not. He 
 looked to me as if he would have much preferred a 
 piece of pie and a drink of whisky at the side- 
 board behind a screen." 
 
 " I suppose he began life on just that sort of 
 diet," laughed Paula. 
 
 " All the more honor to him, that he now sits at 
 the table," said Mrs. Heathcote, whose large intelli- 
 gence precluded snobbishness. " But, of course, I 
 wished the repast to be satisfactory to please Colo- 
 nel Heathcote. Thank God, he's phlegmatic enough 
 about most things, but fussy he is about his dinner. 
 1 am sure his religion could console him for my 
 loss, or that of one of the boys, but never for a bad 
 dinner." 
 
 "Who was the lovely woman that Colonel 
 Heathcote took in ? " asked Paula. 
 
 " Ah ! That was Mrs. Jack Gresham." 
 
 " Do tell me something about her," said Paula. 
 " I admired her excessively." 
 
 " If I begin to give you Connie Gresham's biog-
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 203 
 
 raphy," said Mrs. Heathcote, " we should remain 
 here until the hours of dawn, and yet the super- 
 ficial have seen only success and glitter. She is 
 indeed more than attractive. The world will have 
 it that we are rivals, but we are nothing of the 
 sort. While we are not intimate, we are the best 
 of friends, and I have known something of that 
 woman's heart which few have guessed. A tragedy 
 once touched her life it has left its mark." 
 
 "Oh!" said Paula, "tell me," clasping her 
 hands. 
 
 " Some day, perhaps ; not to-night, it is too late. 
 I have often thought how foolish women are to 
 dislike Mrs. Gresham. Why, such a one is the 
 avenger of our sex. No," she continued, "I was 
 bored. But Reginald wanted this dinner, and be- 
 sides, I have an axe to grind." 
 
 Then in inaudible tones to the outsider she told 
 Paula about this " axe." 
 
 " You'll get it, of course ? " 
 
 " I do not see my way absolutely clear, and 
 Heathcote is so bold politically he'll be sure to 
 make some muddle. There'll be that Cerberus of 
 the press to sop. But I do want it, and he's so well 
 fitted." 
 
 " And what about yourself ? Oh ! it would be 
 too delightful to have such a representative abroad ! 
 We should all be so proud."
 
 204 A PURITAN PAG AX. 
 
 " Take care. I don't want the maids to over- 
 hear." 
 
 Then they fell again to whispering. She stood 
 at the doorway, tall and elegant, her peignoir fall- 
 ing to her feet and her long hair upon her shoul- 
 ders. " And, of course, Paula," she said, " if we 
 get it you'll come out to us." 
 
 " Well, well," said Singleton Ackley on the next 
 morning, crossing the tennis grounds at the Casino 
 to greet Paula, " I am so charmed to meet you 
 again, Mrs. Norwood." 
 
 He extended a short arm and screwed up his 
 nose to release his eyeglass, which swung with a 
 flap against his vest. 
 
 " You look fresh as a flower. You are better 
 than an aubade. And the poor Prince, what has 
 become of him ? Is he wiped off the slate, eh ? " 
 
 " Completely." 
 
 " You came to the right place. I always come 
 here when I wish to wipe off the slate. It would 
 be a wise thing to do every night when we go to 
 our beds. Wipe off the slate, wipe off the slate ! " 
 
 "Ah! If all the lines were in chalk !" 
 
 He was more of an exquisite than ever, and still 
 smelled of soap and of roses. But she liad ceased 
 to look upon him in the light of a fop and a fool. 
 She had begun to like and respect him. She had
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 205 
 
 often wondered what the misfortune was to which 
 he had once alluded. Did he, so calm, really know 
 suffering, really ? Not annoyance, not petty vex- 
 ation, but that yawning, bottomless pit of the 
 " mood." They did not, however, venture on such 
 dangerous topics, but went in the sunlight to watch 
 the young athletes scampering about hither and 
 thither, stampeding and shouting with aggressive 
 tennis bats.
 
 CHAPTER XIY. 
 
 AT the end of September Mrs. Sorchan and 
 Paula received an invitation to be present at an 
 oration which was to be delivered in honor of 
 Paula's father. There was an American home 
 industry exhibition going on at the capital in 
 which one hall was especially devoted to the elec- 
 tric machines whose inventions had crowned Paul 
 Sorchan with fame. At its opening there were to 
 be speeches and addresses, and the President him- 
 self had half promised to attend in person. Paula 
 and Mrs. Sorchan, as Mr. Sorchan's only near 
 relatives, were bidden to this entertainment, and 
 tickets for prominent reserved seats upon the plat- 
 form were forwarded to them inclosed with their 
 invitation. 
 
 " Suppose we go," said Mrs. Sorchan. " I 
 haven't seen "Washington for several years." 
 
 "I have not been there since I was a little 
 child," said Paula. " I lost my muff off the top 
 of the Capitol and papa scolded me. That's my 
 principal impression."
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 207 
 
 " I've half a mind, if we like it," said Mrs. 
 Sorchan, " to poke about and see if we can find a 
 nice house, and stop there all winter just for the 
 change." 
 
 She looked sharply at her niece and saw an 
 intensity of relief flash up in her face at this sug- 
 gestion. 
 
 " Poor little thing ! " thought Mrs. Sorchan, 
 who had quick perceptions and was warm-hearted. 
 
 The return to the fear of meeting with Nor- 
 wood at any possible street corner had been the 
 torture of Paula's ending summer. She ran across 
 the room. 
 
 " O aunt ! " she said, and kissed Mrs. Sorchan's 
 cheek. 
 
 Lately there had come a terrible attack. The 
 mood again had swept her with fury and devasta- 
 tion. She had thrown herself on her face in her 
 room up-stairs, her arms stretched out like one cru- 
 cified with sorrow. The mood had come, and 
 brought her again that curious form of self-re- 
 proach, that sense of having been for a moment 
 inconstant to her trouble. It wooed her back to 
 itself now like a chidden child to a parent's arms. 
 She had smiled, she had danced, she had even 
 laughed. Shame ! shame ! Sometimes she had 
 been as one who seeks some old haunt sacred with 
 remembrance, but finds no reawakening thrill,
 
 208 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 even of regret. It comes again at the next visit, 
 but to-day, nothing ! The exhausted nerve centers 
 have simply ceased to respond ; their limitation has 
 been reached. To the inexperienced this inability 
 to suffer, this dull apathy, this torpor, is more ter- 
 rible than pain's most poignant anguish. It is 
 haunted with self -scorn ; and one of its phases is 
 the fear that it is eternal. 
 
 Lying face downward Paula had writhed once 
 more under all the old feelings. In her breast, 
 pity, love, jealousy, the thirst for vengeance, warred 
 together for the mastery ; ay, love and tenderness 
 for once she cried. " O Norwood, I loved you ! 
 I loved you ! " She had almost said, " I love you ! " 
 but she had thrust her hand over her mouth and 
 stifled the word. Oh, to see him ! Yet the horror 
 of it made cold beads pearl upon her forehead. 
 She used often to ponder over this dread likeli- 
 hood. Walking some day alone or, what would 
 be worse still, with others, at a picture gallery, a 
 church, a theatre, face to face her husband ! 
 What should she do? Should she flee from him, 
 turn away, or mayhap fall dead of the shock at his 
 feet ? God ! how terrible would be that meeting ! 
 If she turned from him then he would keep his 
 hat on ; he would not uncover to her. What ! He 
 not bow down and uncover before her ? Then the 
 drop of fierceness that Singleton Ackley admired
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 209 
 
 rose to choke her. If he did not uncover before 
 her she would kill him she knew it. He must ! 
 he must ! What ! Her husband ? Yes, he had 
 been that ! 
 
 So Washington was a relief and respite. At 
 least he would not be there. She had not dared to 
 ask her aunt to leave her home and habits, but she 
 had secretly decided to suggest seeking one for 
 herself alone elsewhere, anywhere out of the 
 dread. She had seen Norwood's name twice 
 lately in the paper apropos of important cases. 
 It seemed, then, he was still at 'work interested 
 in affairs, rising, progressing. Once he had wri- 
 tten to her aunt on some business matter, and 
 that was all all since that awful night. The 
 thought of his silence crushed her under its 
 grievous weight. He was right, no doubt. What 
 was there to say ? Nothing. But she resented it, 
 oppressed and wounded. 
 
 They found Washington, the evening they ar- 
 rived, drenched in an autumn moon which filled 
 its wide, silent streets with a beauty that the. 
 crowded noon would quickly dispel. The Capitol 
 dome hovered like a great white winged bird over 
 the sleeping avenues, while the statues and the 
 squares with their lace fretwork of foliage, shone 
 out dark against a bright heaven of stars. 
 
 " I had forgotten," said Paula, leaning from the 
 14
 
 210 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 carriage window as they drove from the station to 
 the hotel, " what a beautiful city it is after all." 
 
 The next evening found them duly seated upon 
 the platform whither they had been gallantly pilot- 
 ed by the organizers of the opening exercises. 
 Among the wives of half a dozen Representa- 
 tives and Senators Madame la Presidente her- 
 self, brave in a yellow-tulle bonnet, followed by 
 some members of the Cabinet, was ushered in to 
 a reserved place in close proximity to the Sor- 
 chan ladies. There were besides two or three 
 bored diplomats who had been unwillingly im- 
 pressed into the service, and whose restlessness 
 found relief in staring at Paula. One of them, a 
 powerful person with strong calves to his legs and 
 a large red mouth, was somewhat ardent in his 
 regards. He was the Austrian minister. He liked 
 a new face above all things ; but then Paula's was 
 not altogether unknown to him. He had failed to 
 obtain an introduction to her at a garden party at 
 Newport, and as she had left the very next day his 
 lack of success had remained a regret. 
 
 Mrs. Norwood and her aunt were duly presented 
 to the presidential party, and when the President 
 finally entered and clambered up the roughly-hewed 
 wooden steps he recognized Mrs. Norwood and 
 shook her hand with unaffected republican cordi- 
 ality.
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 211 
 
 The large hall, around whose sides were ranged 
 the various machines and electrical wonders, the 
 works of the dead inventor, was filled to over- 
 flow with that compact, respectable, good-humored 
 American crowd ; well-to-do, well-dressed, well- 
 mannered, orderly, without one salient feature, 
 without one striking personality colorless ; the 
 men, earnest, decent, in their black broadcloth, 
 with their sallow skins and patient, keen eyes ; the 
 women, rarely handsome, generally pretty, with a 
 certain nervous petulancy of speech and an effort 
 at style in dress. 
 
 But to Paula, whose heart was swelling within 
 her, that ocean of countenances seemed to be look- 
 ing up lovingly. One or two introductory speeches 
 were made, more or less eloquent, with that flour- 
 ish of the " spread-eagle " gesture and that ready 
 humor of men accustomed to the stump. These 
 were varied by some concerted music, and at last, 
 after the principal oration, the President was per- 
 suaded to get upon his legs. He stood with his 
 right hand thrust into his breast, the other held out 
 not entirely ungracefully toward the heaving mass 
 below. He said a few well-chosen words after the 
 first burst of patriotic cheering was quelled in 
 praise of the great scientist whose memory they had 
 gathered together to extol and honor. He spoke 
 calmly, deliberately, in his powerful, harsh tones,
 
 212 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 which filled the room and pierced even to the 
 moonlit street where eager hands, many of them 
 the dusky ones of his colored brother, were raised 
 in plaudits. Paula was sitting only a few feet 
 from him. Suddenly, bowing in acknowledgment 
 of the repeated salvos of applause, he stepped 
 quickly up to her and led her to the front of the 
 dais : 
 
 " Ladies and gentlemen," he said, amid an un- 
 expectedly-fallen hush, " these cheers, I know, are 
 not for me ; they are surely intended to greet Paul 
 Sorchan's daughter." 
 
 A wild hurrah of excitement swept over the 
 multitude ; three times hats and handkerchiefs were 
 raised and lowered, while the building rang with 
 turbulent acclamations. The band struck up " Hail 
 Columbia," amid a general jubilee of sound. Paula 
 walked about afterward for a moment down among 
 the people upon the arm of a long-haired and abun- 
 dantly-bearded Senator, but she could not speak to 
 him, for her eyes were streaming with tears, and 
 he, noting her emotion, delicately urged her to 
 withdraw, offering to find her carriage. 
 
 With her handkerchief still held to her face she 
 alighted less than an hour later with Mrs. Sorchan 
 at their hotel. The latter was greatly pleased at the 
 ovation they had received, while she had naturally 
 shrunk a little at its extreme publicity. The Presi-
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 213 
 
 dent's impulsive action seemed to her almost in- 
 discreet. 
 
 " It would have been quite dreadful," she said, 
 " if it hadn't been the President." 
 
 But Paula said, " O Aunt Amy, I can not tell 
 you how happy I am ! O papa ! my darling papa ! 
 They do not forget him ! " 
 
 So it seemed that she had borne the ordeal 
 proudly. She tripped up-stairs to the room which 
 had been allotted to her and found her maid sitting 
 in darkness at the window, awaiting her. Paula 
 did not feel like meeting importunate eyes, nor was 
 she in any mood for words. She therefore dis- 
 missed the woman, telling her to call her early the 
 next morning, that she and her aunt had planned a 
 house-hunting excursion, and that now as she had 
 letters to write she desired solitude. Lighting the 
 flaring jets of gas on either side of the bureau, the 
 maid bade her mistress good-night, and withdrew. 
 But Paula had no letters to write; she had only 
 wished to be alone. She lowered the gas a little 
 and walked up and down the floor, still filled with 
 the exaltation and pride of her late experience. 
 Ay, this new homage, this adulation, this impor- 
 tance, were sweet. They were growing daily more 
 and more part of her existence. How easy for the 
 obscure to deride ! it was only envy. Yes, it was 
 surely sweet, very sweet. To-night, for a moment,
 
 214 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 she had felt herself raised above the others, looked 
 up to, admired. The Senator had pressed her hand 
 at parting, arid told her that she was lovely, and she 
 had stood by the side of the ruler and looked down 
 at the people below, and they had tossed up to her 
 their cries and hands. She realized now how great 
 actors and orators must feel whose mere presence 
 brought hundreds into the subjugation of awed si- 
 lences. 
 
 Casting off her pretty, light evening costume 
 and bonnet, she began to move swiftly hither and 
 thither about her room, loosening her hair from its 
 comb and singing softly to herself as she donned a 
 mauve crepe de Chine garment, which enveloped 
 her in its soft folds. She had kept with the grad- 
 ual increase of luxuriousness of taste in the selec- 
 tion of her toilets a distinct preference for faint 
 and unobtrusive shades of color. She perhaps had 
 never looked better than at this moment, when she 
 seated herself before her mirror and began to pull 
 out and disentangle her splendid dark hair. The 
 chrism of misfortune had touched Paula with a new 
 beauty half guessed by herself, divined and strongly 
 potent to others. Carking cares and petty anxieties 
 will harden a face which a great grief softens and 
 dignifies. The loss of a simple heart had robbed 
 her of her girlishness. The change had lit a som- 
 ber fire in her eyes which made strangers, who 

 
 A PURITAN PAGAX. 215 
 
 would have passed her by unnoticed a year before, 
 now turn and look again with question. She had 
 always been interesting. She was now occupying. 
 
 Directly in front of her, pushed back against 
 the looking-glass was a lace pin-cushion, ornamented 
 with a knot of pink ribbon, which her maid had 
 brought and unpacked, and which, with those vari- 
 ous articles which adorn a woman's dressing-table, 
 was displayed with a praiseworthy attempt at home- 
 like effect. As her eyes fell upon this bit of femi- 
 nine finery, she became aware that pinned to the 
 roseate bow was a letter. She pulled it toward her, 
 unfastening it from its moorings, with an indifferent 
 nonchalance, and so brought it within the radius of 
 her vision. What could it be ? She was to be here 
 only two days; she expected nothing. It was a 
 large envelope, thick and sealed. She turned it 
 over. In a moment she had recognized the hand 
 writing. It was her husband's. 
 
 Robinson Crusoe when he first met the foot- 
 prints on his island could not have been thrilled to 
 a more intense agitation than was Paula at this dis- 
 covery, and the missive fell from her hands like a 
 stone to the floor. Its contact seemed to have be- 
 numbed her fingers. In a moment, however, she 
 had stooped to where it lay at her feet, and held it 
 again, helplessly shifting it this way and that. It 
 was evidently a long letter, for, as I have said, it
 
 216 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 was thick and heavy. Her first impulse was one of 
 terror lest she should be tempted to open it. This 
 formulated itself in a solicitation to hide the thing 
 at once irremediably from sight and touch. 
 
 " How dare he ! How dare he ! " she said 
 aloud. 
 
 She hurried to her trunk, in whose upper tray 
 lay, she remembered, her writing materials, but 
 upon flecking open the pages of her portfolio a 
 new dilemma presented itself to her excitement. 
 She found that it contained no envelopes wide 
 enough to inclose the one received. She had a 
 helpless, childish feeling that if she folded it in 
 two and crushed if into an uneasy space the seal 
 might break, and the temptation recur. But now 
 she remembered that on leaving her house at the 
 last moment she had received a photograph of Tad. 
 She had thrust it into her traveling bag, and here, 
 in fact, she found it safely. It was the question of 
 a minute to remove Tad's smiling effigy and thrust 
 her husband's letter into the large envelope, light 
 her sealing wax at her tiny traveling taper, and seal 
 it with her crest. She then redirected it to his 
 office somehow she could not bring herself to the 
 Riverside address in a hand as firm as she could 
 command, stamped it, and rang the bell. In less 
 than five minutes a sleepy nigger's head advanced 
 into the doorway.
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 217 
 
 " Please post this for me at once," she said to 
 him, then added, " when is the next mail ? " 
 
 " Yeth, ma'am. I go't ounthe," said the negro, 
 and disappeared, unheeding the final query. 
 
 The febrile activity of the whole proceeding had 
 kept her up. The die once cast the reaction fell. 
 Fell like a clod of earth upon a grave. For months 
 she had longed for this. It had come to her, and 
 her only thought had been to throw it from her, to 
 cast it away, as a thing loathsome and contaminat- 
 ing. " How dare he ! How dare he ! " she still 
 murmured, pacing the floor, nursing that sense of 
 wrong, of outrage, which was so quick to flame and 
 burn within her. Yet, after the letter had defi- 
 nitely gone, it is possible that her husband's crimes 
 looked less terrible to her than before. Her own 
 triumph and his discomfiture made them dwindle a 
 little. She pictured him opening the returned mis- 
 sive; she found herself wondering how he had 
 known her whereabouts ; had he read of her in the 
 papers, those revealers of secrets ? It was evident, 
 then, that he followed her movements. A vain 
 flutter of satisfaction at the thought was resolutely 
 quelled. Then all at once it occurred to her that he 
 was possibly ill, nay, dying, and that this was a 
 summons to his bedside. A hand of ice clutched 
 her heart, kneading it as if with a pressure of iron, 
 and she moaned aloud, with a strange physical pain.
 
 218 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 Would she refuse to go to him even then ? If he 
 were dying, would she refuse ? Would she turn 
 away and let others close that fast failing sight 
 strained to her coming ? catch that faintly faltering 
 breath before it ceased forever ? Then she tottered 
 to her bed and fell upon it and cried again, " O 
 God ! let it not be that ! not that ! " 
 
 Only persons of imagination can portray possi- 
 bilities until for them they grow into actual reali- 
 ties. Before morning Paula had held in waking 
 dreams her husband's pale head upon her breast, 
 had wiped away his tears of penitence, had whis- 
 pered words of pardon upon his lips, nay, had her- 
 self . . . died. The dawn found her spent and 
 wan as the flickering stars whose beams were melt- 
 ing into dimness on the gray horizon of a rising 
 day.
 
 CHAPTER XY. 
 
 THE house was found and taken for the winter 
 months, and Mrs. Sorchan and Paula moved to 
 Washington. It was a pleasant, rambling edifice, 
 situated on the sunny side of one of the " circles." 
 Of her letter Paula had not spoken to her aunt. 
 It is not to be supposed, however, that this tacit 
 reserve made it of less importance. The things of 
 which one never speaks are rarely insignificant. 
 
 Mrs. Norwood experienced at this period a 
 frightened sense of needing constant distraction. 
 She was following Mr. Ackley's advice; perhaps 
 her new life was becoming gradually a necessity to 
 her. She was awakening hourly to a perception 
 of her own power the power of a handsome, 
 clever woman whose position is somewhat excep- 
 tional, and whose motives of conduct are hidden 
 and therefore piquant. 
 
 The Princess came on with a party of friends 
 early in the winter to visit at a gay private house, 
 and Paula was at once carried on the pinions of
 
 220 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 these wassail birds into the midst of all the more 
 elegant festivities. As Paul Sorchan's daughter, 
 whose brief apparition in public on that memor- 
 able evening had been duly recorded by the press, 
 she had gained a certain prestige, and her affilia- 
 tions with the graver official world had been estab- 
 lished. The Senator who had conveyed her to 
 her carriage on that occasion, who was a widower, 
 had brought his daughters to call upon her. At 
 a reception at the house of these people she had 
 been presented to the Secretary of State, one of 
 those married men whose wife is always conveni- 
 ently in mourning, indisposed, or visiting her par- 
 ents in ... Keokuk. He shook hands with Paula 
 as he did with a hundred other women daily, and 
 then fell in love with her, which was less obligatory. 
 It may as well be said here at once that, although 
 an ardent, it was a very respectful homage, and 
 that her own white wings remained uusinged. The 
 Secretary of the Interior, who was unmarried, " mag- 
 netic," and never willing to be outdone by his col- 
 leagues where the fair sex was concerned, followed 
 suit ; somewhat limply, it must be admitted, but in 
 these things the good disposition goes a great way. 
 His courtesies were as valuable. 
 
 Through the influence of these magnates the 
 Sorchan ladies were launched at once into political 
 coteries, even attending one or two small and pri-
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 221 
 
 vate reunions in the dreary ugliness of the White 
 House blue room. They were gallantly piloted by 
 one or both of these gentlemen through all the 
 official receptions, and made many friends and ac- 
 quaintances among the Senators and Representa- 
 tives, who escorted them of a morning to hear the 
 debates, breakfasted them in committee rooms, and 
 seemed to have a special care for their welfare and 
 amusement. 
 
 When the Princess arrived she brought Miss 
 Piper to see Paula, and " Miss Piper's mother," as 
 the long-suffering matron was called whose arduous 
 occupation it was to chaperon and wait upon this 
 nomadic young lady. 
 
 With Mrs. Heathcote Paula drifted into another 
 set, that of the diplomatic corps, that of the strag- 
 gling pleasure seekers, that of unofficial residents, 
 and in the drawing-room of one of these she met 
 the Austrian minister, the man who had missed 
 her at the Newport fete, had watched her at the ex- 
 position, and was now dying to make her acquaint- 
 ance. He was wealthy, a bachelor, and d la mode. 
 He began at once to pay her an incendiary court. 
 He began with ruse. He had an object in view 
 he wished to vex and wound another woman ; and 
 then Paula was somebody new. But toward the 
 end of the season he became infatuated with her. 
 These pretty pastimes have their tyrannies.
 
 222 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 Mrs. Norwood and the Princess went together 
 one evening to a ball at the British Legation. Sir 
 Peveril Lightpace was then minister, and he and 
 Lady Lightpace and five of their daughters, who 
 had long feet, white teeth, and superb hair there 
 were four more married ones in England, they 
 said stood in the front drawing-room to receive 
 their guests. Count Hartman, the Austrian, while 
 calling in the afternoon, had heralded the arrival 
 of these ladies by loudly extolling their elegance, 
 beauty, and position. He had spoken of Mr. Heath- 
 cote as a distinguished politician and possible am- 
 bassador, and of Mrs. Heathcote as of a lady high 
 in authority and of recognized importance in the 
 social world. Sir Peveril, but lately landed, took 
 mental note of these names as he sipped his tea 
 among his worshipful womenkind. Fresh to di- 
 plomacy, he had a praiseworthy determination to 
 make no blunders. He had disliked America and 
 Americans cordially before he crossed the Atlantic. 
 Two lonely months of Washington summer heat 
 without his family had intensified this aversion 
 into a hatred which bordered upon monomania. 
 Nevertheless, he had been told that the Americans 
 were touchy, not to say resentful, if you did not 
 incessantly praise and flatter their modus vivendi, 
 their manners, their institutions. Having learned 
 his lesson with many a wry face, he now forced
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 223 
 
 himself to wear a smiling mask of urbanity that no 
 degree of acute ennui, no extent of disapproval or 
 of disgust could ever eclipse. He had one son 
 whose future advancement might depend on his 
 father's present discretion and self-control. Sir 
 Peveril stoically accepted his horrid fate. 
 
 It was significant of his novitiate, but easily 
 explicable, that when the evening of the ball 
 arrived he mistook Paula for Mrs. Heathcote. 
 Older diplomats make even graver mistakes. She 
 became instantly the object of his almost over- 
 powering civilities. He offered her his arm, con- 
 ducting her to the ball room, while the Princess 
 brought up the rear with an insignificant secretary 
 of legation Colonel Heathcote had not accom- 
 panied his wife to Washington. When they en- 
 tered, the dance was in full swing. The great room, 
 bright with its old-fashioned curtainings, its crystal 
 chandeliers with their myriad lights, its antique, 
 showily framed mirrors, its palms and flowers 
 which deftly concealed the musicians, looked cheery 
 and attractive to Paula's eyes. She stood under a 
 tall exotic by Sir Peveril's side watching the dancers 
 for a few moments. 
 
 " Your name is as well known in Europe as in 
 America," said Sir Peveril, pompous, gallant, and 
 an fait. 
 
 Paula looked up somewhat surprised.
 
 224 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 " How will you like ... er ... diplomacy ? " 
 he went on. " I see no one here more eminently 
 fitted?" 
 
 Paula, not comprehending exactly this allusion, 
 murmured that diplomatic life must be very nice. 
 " But," she added, " Sir Peveril, you must find 
 "Washington sadly provincial after London." 
 
 " It is repose, it is repose," said Sir Peveril, 
 with that hunted weary look on his handsome, 
 regular features which rarely left them now. 
 
 " It seems rather a rush to me," said Paula, 
 " but then I am only here for a short time, and " 
 . . . just then they were forming a quadrille, and 
 a Frenchman came and asked her to dance. 
 
 He was a second secretary she had met at New- 
 port. He had not then been thought very desirable. 
 In fact, the Princess, for whom he professed a 
 hopeless passion, had warned Paula that he was a 
 " terror." He had a shock of curling, black, rather 
 greasy hair, a pair of fine eyes, and bad teeth ; he 
 turned in one foot when he walked, and had always 
 hanging about his clothes and mustache a smell 
 of stale cigar smoke, notwithstanding the violent 
 essence of verbena with which he deluged his 
 pocket-handkerchief. He managed, however, in 
 spite of his halting gait, to dance the quadrille 
 with considerable Gallic vivacity, and here, in the 
 somewhat motley environment of the capital, he
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 225 
 
 also managed to appear less odious than he had 
 seemed in the exclusive atmosphere of " Heathcote." 
 Certain people are wise to hug their anchorage. 
 
 Almost immediately after the dance Sir Peveril 
 returned to Paula, and the Frenchman elbowed his 
 way through the crowd and wedged himself behind 
 the Princess, who was sitting at one end of the ball 
 room under the Vice-President's wing, with a little 
 court about her. Sir Peveril took Paula in for an 
 ice, and then Lady Lightpace came across the room 
 and spoke to her. She was a fair and buxom dame 
 upon whom the frequent taxes of maternity seemed 
 to have imposed but a light assessment. 
 
 In a few moments Paula was asked to waltz by 
 Count Hartman. He bore her rushing round and 
 round the room several times in his arms until the 
 hem of her gown whirled almost to the ceiling, and 
 her head reeled and her breath failed her. Then 
 stopping shortly he brought his feet together and 
 swung her dexterously into a chair close to Mrs. 
 Heathcote, while he faced her with a low salaam. 
 
 " Well, my dear," said the latter, " your prog- 
 ress has been a source of intense anxiety to me and 
 to all your friends, but now that you are safely 
 landed, let me felicitate you and Monsieur. It was 
 wonderful." 
 
 " Ah ! " said the Count, " Madame thinks we 
 
 foreigners dance too quick." 
 15
 
 226 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 " It is impossible to please the American ladies, 
 whatever one does," sighed the Frenchman. 
 
 But Mrs. Heathcote did not deign to turn her 
 head or notice his comment. 
 
 "We move more slowly and reverse," said 
 Paula, still gasping. " It is all a matter of habit." 
 
 " In Vienna," said Count Hartman, " the dance 
 is very quick, indeed. The music has a fast time. 
 When you will come to Vienna I will show you 
 real dancing." 
 
 " Heavens ! " said the Princess. " You and 
 Mrs. Norwood did well enough for beginners. See 
 what a bright color in her cheeks ! " 
 
 Count Hartman looked at the color, and his 
 eyes wandered downward over Paula's strong, 
 young throat to her lithe figure. He wondered ex- 
 actly how long it would take to win her? No little 
 time, he feared. She had something forbidden 
 about her with all her charm. But then he con- 
 sidered himself very adroit in these matters, and it 
 was much better so, much better. He preferred a 
 long resistance. The preliminaries were always full 
 of surprises, they furnished pleasant moments and 
 memories, and were thus not all lost time. He 
 liked cold, difficult, distinguished women vain and 
 sensual egoists generally do. A monopoly is more 
 possible. 
 
 Paula, flushed with the exercise, with that sense
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 227 
 
 of power so lately stirred of which I have spoken, 
 of whose whispered promptings she did not yet 
 fully catch the meaning, happy and safe near her 
 dear Princess, flattered at Sir Peveril's politeness, 
 rocked and swayed by the music, exhilarated with 
 the contact of this throng of gay people, looked up 
 at him with coquetry from under her dark lashes. 
 " La haine dans Paine, V amour dans les yeux" 
 For, while his attention caressed her awakening 
 vanity, his presence inspired her with a strong 
 physical repulsion. It is fortunate sometimes that 
 men are not admitted to wander into the green 
 rooms of a woman's favor. 
 
 When the band struck up the march for supper 
 what was Paula's amazement when Sir Peveril 
 walked with stately majesty across the floor, and, in 
 a pause of the dance and in a momentary hush of 
 conversation, conveyed her upon his arm to the sup- 
 per room. Here he called her "Mrs. Heathcote," 
 and the imbroglio was cleared up with much merri- 
 ment on Paula's side and a rather forced laughter 
 on Sir Peveril's. But, whether sailing under her 
 own or borrowed colors, from that evening Mrs. 
 Norwood became the fashion. In so doing she also 
 began to rouse jealousy, envy, and uncharitableness, 
 that eager, hungry-eyed trio that wait upon the feet 
 of all success. Their secret rancor did not, I fear, 
 greatly disturb her. Perhaps she knew not of
 
 228 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 them ; she had a faculty for inspiring a certain 
 wholesome fear, and few would have dared repeat 
 to Paula gossip about herself. Her increasing tact 
 did not lessen, but seemed to increase her natural 
 dignity of manner. If there was any less dignity 
 of conduct it was certainly not apparent. Probably 
 thus far there was not. No, she gave no heed to 
 the strife of tongues, and for sufficient reason. 
 "When you have received a poignard stab in your 
 bosom two or three mosquito bites are ineffectual to 
 arouse serious consideration. There are advantages 
 in beginning life with tragedy. It belittles all the 
 rest into the province of the light comic. It is an 
 immense safeguard, an armor of protection, to be, at 
 bottom, indifferent. 
 
 " Which is she ? " asked a lady, craning over a 
 neighboring shoulder at a crowded reception given 
 by the Secretary of State. 
 
 "There, that one with the serious, large eyes. 
 Do you think her pretty ? " 
 
 "Not exactly. She is certainly rather strik- 
 ing." 
 
 " Do you believe all the stories about her ? " 
 
 " I never heard any." 
 
 " You know she is separated from her hus- 
 band ? " 
 
 " Ah, yes ! that Norwood, the great patent law- 
 yer."
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN, 229 
 
 " My husband lias met him. Such a fine fellow, 
 I hear." 
 
 " You have heard the stories, then 2 " 
 
 "No, nothing against her personally. I heard 
 they had quarreled." 
 
 " Quarreled ! That's a mild word. She just 
 marched out of his house because he wouldn't stand 
 her coquetries. There's no smoke without fire, de- 
 pend upon it," and once more that false proverb so 
 long foisted upon a silly and credulous world was 
 made to point a moral. 
 
 " I don't know, I suppose not. They say "- 
 the speaker lowered her voice " that," and she 
 raised her chin in the direction of their host, " he is 
 crazy about her." 
 
 " Oh, I dare say. The old fellow's frisky when 
 madam's away. But that's mere child's play com- 
 pared with the devotion of Hartman." 
 
 "What! that horrid-looking fellow?" said the 
 first speaker. " I consider his appearance plebeian." 
 
 She had tried in vain for months to lure the 
 Austrian to her afternoons. It seemed he had lost 
 his aristocratic bearing in the struggle. 
 
 " He is very much liked here," said the other 
 lady, " much more than his predecessor." 
 
 She had no especial personal ambitions, and it 
 gave her even more agreeable sensations to goad 
 and stiiis: her friends than her enemies.
 
 230 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 " He can make a woman the rage. He gets all 
 the smartest, prettiest ones at his soirees" 
 
 "I should not allow my girls to go to them. 
 Heaven only knows what takes place at them ! 
 He's a debauched person, I feel sure. Only look 
 at him!" 
 
 " Oh, we can not be such severe moralists," said 
 the other lady, not without a certain asperity in her 
 voice. " These foreigners have to be admitted. 
 Their ideas are not ours. People say the women 
 are quite envious of his marked preference for this 
 Mrs. Norwood. Do you know him well ? " 
 
 " I am sure she's welcome to him," evading the 
 question. " No decent women who respect them- 
 selves would go to his house." 
 
 How she and her daughters would have flown 
 thither had but a diplomatic finger been raised to 
 beckon them in ! 
 
 " The way the women are going on is simply 
 dreadful. In my day a woman who was separated 
 from her husband disappeared. She was simply 
 wiped out. She did not brazen about and flaunt 
 her disgrace in people's faces as they do now. 
 Times are changed, Mrs. Slade." 
 
 " Disgrace is a strong word, my dear ; take 
 care. It's the first sign of age to think everything 
 is going to destruction. You are old-fashioned, 
 pardon my saying so. Men nowadays like women
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 231 
 
 who have some ' go ' in them. My son won't speak 
 to any but the married women, and thinks the girls 
 dull and dowdy in comparison. Of course he ex- 
 cepts Bianca Piper, who's such a success. He just 
 raves about Mrs. Norwood and that beautiful Mrs. 
 Heathcote, who is her friend, I am told, and takes 
 a great interest in her. Have you seen her ? " 
 
 " She's another woman I do not admire, al- 
 though I hear she's such a leader. I am not influ- 
 enced by such things " God may have forgiven 
 her the lie, in consideration of human weakness 
 "/ like modest, retiring women." 
 
 Mrs. Slade's blood was kept in motion by the in- 
 spiriting assurance that her pin pricks were doing 
 their work upon the mother of three plain and neg- 
 lected daughters. The conversation was here inter- 
 rupted by an upheaval in the crowd as a person of 
 consequence was announced. It was resumed a half- 
 hour later in a doorway between tea-cups and a 
 draught from the stairs. 
 
 " There ! now you see her distinctly. What do 
 you think of her on nearer view ? Mrs. Norwood, 
 I mean. See ! she is speaking to Count Hartman." 
 
 " I think," said the first lady, " she has a wicked 
 face ; quite like a desperate character, in fact." 
 
 Paula was looking at that very moment with 
 hatred at Hartman. He had been forced to turn 
 from her to answer a question some one had ad-
 
 232 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 dressed to him, and for a second that secret dislike 
 had swept over her expressive features, touching 
 their habitual sadness into a sinister frown. 
 
 Returning from a breakfast at the Pipers' the 
 mail had been brought to her, and again among her 
 letters there had lain a second one from her hus- 
 band. It had met the same fate as the first. Then 
 she had dressed and come to this reception. But 
 during the moment that Hartman's attention had 
 wandered she had found a positive relief in letting 
 those tell-tale eyes of hers say what they felt. 
 Not knowing herself closely watched, she had rev- 
 eled in the momentary freedom. Her assuaged 
 vindictiveness toward Norwood was always at- 
 tended by these curious reactions, a dwarfed realiza- 
 tion of his offenses, which seemed, on the contrary, 
 to exaggerate what was offensive in other people.
 
 CHAPTER XYI. 
 
 MRS. HEATHCOTE was partaking of chicken salad 
 and hothouse strawberries in the dainty sitting- 
 room which her hostess had awarded to her, and 
 from which opened her sumptuously appointed bed- 
 chamber. She was known to be luxurious in her 
 tastes which insures to a guest the finest suite of 
 rooms, the softest satin bed cover, the most delicate 
 tea-cup, and the best attendance. It was twelve 
 o'clock. She had declared her intention of remain- 
 ing in her apartments until after noon, and, in a 
 long, white cashmere dressing-gown bordered with 
 sable, was nursing her complexion and a tendency 
 to dark circles under her sweet, cold eyes. They 
 brightened into warmth and surprise when a card 
 was brought up to her. 
 
 " Ask her to come up-stairs to me," she said, 
 and in a few moments the door swung open and 
 admitted Mrs. Sorchan. 
 
 " I am so glad to find you alone," said the older 
 woman. " You must not be vexed with me for in-
 
 234 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 trading upon you so early. I wanted to catch you 
 before the world snatches you up." 
 
 " Dear Mrs. Sorchan ! " 
 
 " Of course I came with a purpose." 
 
 " Yes ? I am delighted." 
 
 " And, of course, that purpose is Paula." 
 
 Mrs. Heathcote put down her last strawberry 
 untasted and prepared to listen. 
 
 "And, first of all, Mrs. Heathcote, I want to 
 thank you from the depths of my heart for all you 
 have done for my niece." 
 
 " I * Why, I've done nothing." 
 
 " You have done everything, and you know it. 
 I know not from what misery you may have saved 
 the child. You have inspired her with new inter- 
 ests, engaged her to mingle in the pleasures of her 
 age, reawakened her self-respect." 
 
 Mrs. Sorchan spoke quickly, and loosened her 
 cloak, which she threw back energetically from her 
 shoulders. There was something strong about her 
 which appealed to the Princess. 
 
 " Paula lacked the suppleness," said the Princess, 
 " which society teaches." 
 
 " Exactly ; and her husband is a very clever 
 man, but there is no doubt that clever men are 
 often very foolish. Give me a clever man to make 
 a fool of himself." 
 
 Mrs. Heathcote was always keenly alive when
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 235 
 
 Norwood was mentioned. She wanted to know 
 more about him. 
 
 " You think he made mistakes ? " 
 
 " What the great one was which brought the 
 catastrophe I know not, but I said then, and I say 
 now, Paula lived too much alone. She mooned 
 about too much by herself." 
 
 " I fancy her bringing up had been unusual." 
 
 "Senseless in many ways, but her father never 
 would listen. He was very pig-headed, and Paula 
 is too, when she gets testy." 
 
 " She is very amenable with me, but I can see 
 that she is a woman of spirit." 
 
 " Spirit's all very well, but a man doesn't want 
 to come home and find a lurid person sitting about. 
 I dare say she made herself disagreeable. Paula 
 was probably rather ponderous, and men like to be 
 entertained." 
 
 " You use the exact words Mr. Ackley did. He 
 calls her ' Tragedy. ' " 
 
 " Now I am coming to the point. Her hus- 
 band is writing to her, and I want you to talk to 
 her, to persuade her not to be obstinate." 
 
 "Has she told you?" 
 
 . " Told me ? No. She never tells things. She 
 is the most reserved creature I ever saw. It's op- 
 pressive. But the mail yesterday passed through 
 my hands, and ... I saw."
 
 236 A PURITAN PAtJAN. 
 
 " How interesting ! " 
 
 " I don't know how interesting it is. She's 
 capable of returning his letters unopened. I've 
 got an idea that she does. She's very proud. But 
 I do think something ought to be done to further 
 a reconciliation, if that is what he's after, and i 
 believe you are the only person who could influence 
 her. I may die, and then that girl's alone in the 
 wide world, and she's got very little sense." 
 
 Mrs. Sorchan grew grave as we do when we men- 
 tion the subject of our own departure. The prob- 
 able demise of our friends moves us less. On the 
 whole she was very comfortable, and was in no 
 immediate hurry, like many other virtuous matrons, 
 to enter paradise. 
 
 " What can I do ? She never has opened her- 
 self to me." 
 
 " Just throw a bombshell in her camp. A bold, 
 sudden question has laid many a secret bare." 
 
 Mrs. Pleathcote shook her head. " Much as I 
 love Paula she's not that kind. I never could 
 feel enough at ease with Paula to ply her with 
 inquiries; she can freeze one up so. But I do 
 think of one person, Mrs. Sorchan, who could 
 help us.'' 
 
 " Who is that ? " asked Mrs. Sorchan, looking 
 up with her sharp eyes. 
 
 " Singleton Ackley."
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 37 
 
 " Why he doesn't know Norwood, does he ? " 
 
 " Yes, he does, and he can improve his oppor- 
 tunity, become his friend, if need be and I tell him 
 to, and you don't know how shrewd he is, and 
 kind. He's a Cavour." 
 
 " So I should judge." 
 
 " They say Cavour took a half-hour to persuade 
 a royal princess into making a marriage she had 
 refused for a year even to think of ; refused not- 
 withstanding the special pleadings of her relatives 
 and the commands almost of her kingly father, 
 thus disappointing the anxious expectancy of all 
 political Europe. ' Give me twenty minutes with 
 the girl,' he said. No one ever knew his tactics, 
 or what passed in that single interview, but she 
 was led to the altar by the man she abhorred meek 
 as a lamb, without one protest or plaint, three weeks 
 later." 
 
 " Cavour, then, is the man we want," said Mrs. 
 Sorchan. " Paula's not easily led." 
 
 " And nothing can be done quickly." 
 
 "No, it may take years. I like to keep her. 
 You understand it's only for her own good. She's 
 very dear to me." 
 
 " She often speaks to me of your kindness." 
 
 Then the older woman's lips trembled. " "We 
 are all poor, miserable women," she said. 
 
 Mrs. Heathcote leaned forward and pressed her
 
 238 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 hand, although they were neither of them senti- 
 mentalists. 
 
 " I don't know why," said Mrs. Sorchan, wiping 
 her eyes furtively with her cambric handkerchief, 
 " I come to bother you, who are so brilliant and 
 surrounded, with our misfortunes. It is an unhap- 
 py and wretched piece of business enough, but you 
 seem to have a care for the child, and she adores 
 you." 
 
 Mrs. Heathcote looked at Mrs. Sorchan re- 
 proachfully. " Oh ! " she said. 
 
 " Well, then, I'll make no apologies. I hate 
 cant and talk, and I think you do. The fact is, 
 I'm distraught about all this ; by and by when you 
 get back to town perhaps you'll say a word to Mr. 
 Ackley, and now, adieu ! " 
 
 They parted with another warm pressure of the 
 palm over this new treaty. Plotting for peace and 
 not for conflict, they had spoken in w r hispers, like 
 guilty conspirators. 
 
 The Austrian minister that evening gave a stag 
 dinner to the diplomatic corps. The night was 
 far spent when all but his last guest departed. 
 This guest was our French secretary. The two 
 were intimate friends, and disliked each other 
 intensely. They occasionally waxed confidential, 
 which was probably the cause of their mutual con- 
 tempt. To-night, under the genial influences of
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 239 
 
 wine and nicotine, they sat in an inclosed balcony, 
 which Hartman had taxed his private purse, and 
 not his Government's treasury, to transform into 
 a conservatory. It was redolent in midwinter 
 with June blooms and fragrances. The two men 
 were indulging in a conversation upon that thread- 
 bare topic, the American woman. When we find 
 them the fumes of the feast had already borne 
 away many of their utterances. They were finish- 
 ing, not beginning their argument. The French- 
 man's name was Leon d'Artige ; he was a pessimist, 
 and concluded that the American woman's heart 
 and senses were adamant. The Austrian, more 
 hopeful of temper, nursed himself in the belief, 
 long cherished, that no woman, of any nation, rank, 
 or antecedents, was proof against the pursuits of a 
 lover. 
 
 " If it's not the third it will be the tenth that 
 will conquer," he said, making rings of smoke 
 ascend from his big, protruding under lip up 
 among the leaves of a stiff rose bush. " The thing 
 is to be that tenth, to guess your moment. But 
 then, some men never gain this. One requires 
 patience, skill." 
 
 " Oh, in the second and third classes, I don't 
 know," said the Frenchman, " although even there 
 there's great difficulty, but with the women of the 
 world it is impossible."
 
 240 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 " Yon don't know women," said the Aus- 
 trian. 
 
 This was nettling, and Leon was peppery, but 
 he contented himself with a moan. 
 
 " Who does ? Do you ? Look at Mrs. Heath- 
 cote, for instance. How has she treated me ? That 
 woman ! What do you say of her ? Hein ! " 
 
 " Mrs. Heathcote ! " and Hartman gave a whistle. 
 " You fly for high game." 
 
 " I tell you they're all stone. I do not know if 
 it's virtue or the ice water they absorb in such 
 enormous quantities," said the Frenchman gloomily, 
 " but I repeat it's simply impossible." 
 
 " Some of them may have lovers among the 
 . . . the . . . natives," said Hartman tentatively. 
 
 " Natives ! Men like that who soften their 
 brains paying silly court to young girls! I tell 
 you the American is afraid of compromising his 
 business career by paying serious attentions to a 
 married woman. Money is his mistress. He hunts 
 it and no other." 
 
 " Were you ever on a friendly footing at the 
 Heathcote house? The husband does not look 
 exactly accommodating." 
 
 " Oh, she's her own mistress they all are here. 
 But the devil take me if I see for my part what 
 good it does them, and what pleasure they find in 
 this eternal playing with temptation."
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 241 
 
 " I thought you imagined American women had 
 none." 
 
 " Call it what you choose. Mrs. Heathcote re- 
 ceived me most warmly, asked me to dine, to sup, 
 to dance I know not what accepted me, and 
 when two months were passed ..." 
 
 " Two months ? " 
 
 " Two months I was exactly where I began." 
 
 Leon could boast, too, sometimes, when put 
 upon his mettle, but wine always made him truthful 
 and morbid. 
 
 With a fatuous smile Hartman declared : " You 
 went too quickly, and then you attacked a goddess 
 who can afford to be capricious. Her own men 
 have spoiled her, whatever you may say to the con- 
 trary. You are too easily discouraged. Why don't 
 you try for somebody else ? " 
 
 Leon shook his head. " They only laugh," he 
 said. " They have no heart." 
 
 " Mrs. Norwood, now ? " asked the Austrian. 
 " Should you not say she was a woman of heart ? " 
 
 " She, I confess, looks more serious," said 
 L6on. 
 
 " She is charming," said the minister, " and I 
 will acknowledge to you, mon cher, that I am in 
 love with her." 
 
 " It would be lost time." 
 
 Hartman moved impatiently. " There are men 
 16
 
 242 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 and men," he said under his breath. " I sha'n't 
 make an ass of myself." 
 
 " Then you love not," said Leon with a sigh. 
 
 " Oh, love, love ! I am not a child. But I can 
 read between the lines. Her heart has been 
 wounded and it is ready for the consolation. It 
 will be piquant. I do not care for easy victories." 
 
 Leon looked at his friend and disliked him more 
 than ever. " In my opinion it's only a restful, unoc- 
 cupied heart that has time for love. A hurt or 
 crushed one will not give itself completely; it is too 
 much occupied with its pain. It is as unrestful as 
 a coquette's who thirsts only for conquest. "Women 
 are nervously more highly strung than we are, and 
 their emotions are more single." 
 
 " You ought to have been a troubadour," with a 
 short, contemptuous laugh. " Mrs. Norwood is dy- 
 ing for love. It is written on her whole person, 
 and I will give her all that she wants by and by 
 when the time comes." 
 
 At this moment Paula was sitting up in her bed 
 propped by pillows, with a candle in dangerous 
 proximity to its curtains. She was hurriedly turn- 
 ing over the large, inconvenient sheets of a daily 
 paper. It was the one whose political tenets recom- 
 mended it especially to her husband's perusal, the 
 one he conned every morning over his coffee. But 
 she did not linger over foreign correspondence or
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 243 
 
 congressional reports. She turned feverishly to 
 find the Washington " society items." In them she 
 read of her own movements, of her gowns and tri- 
 umphs ; even of the civilities of the Austrian min- 
 ister, at whose legation, it was duly recorded, that 
 she had dined. " He will see it," she said aloud. 
 " That is well." Then she blew out her candle, 
 and as she lay in the darkness she thought, " I will 
 play my part, I will play my part," which shows 
 that Paula was not a slovenly person who did things 
 without purpose, and that Hartman had found his 
 match, in spite of his superior knowledge of the 
 world.
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE first weeks after his young wife's flight 
 were remembered ever afterward by Norwood as 
 bringing a strange torpor of sense and of pulse, a 
 deadness, a moral stupor without past or future. 
 " Sufficient unto the day." 
 
 I have said that the servants did not desert him. 
 The attitude of those who serve us is indicative of 
 our own toward them. He had been a kind master 
 to them, an authoritative one, difficult to please, but 
 never unjust. They liked him. He was still the 
 master in his misfortunes. The pale ghost who let 
 himself in and out of the house morning and even- 
 ing with the regularity of an automaton was not a 
 harsh task-giver. A certain hush and awe had 
 crept, with Paula's absence, over the entire estab- 
 lishment. Its dusky occupants spoke with bated 
 voices, and the men at the stables, by tacit agree- 
 ment, stopped their whistling w r hen the master came 
 up the path. Norwood contrived to attend to his 
 affairs. It was mechanical at first, but custom is
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN, 245 
 
 strong, and they went well. A friend came into 
 his office one day about this time, and invited him 
 to join him in a railroad speculation, a new scheme 
 which promised well. Norwood absently wrote off 
 the sum he would invest, and tossed it to his visitor 
 across his desk. 
 
 " Put me down for that," he said. " I've not 
 the time to become a director or to bother with the 
 thing personally, but here's some money." 
 
 In a few months it had realized thousands. So 
 it was in these days with all his investments. For- 
 tune laughed at him, heaping up an ironical million. 
 And yet he had ceased to drive hard bargains now. 
 He gave to the poor unostentatiously, humbly, and 
 sadly, as one who understands the world's suffering 
 and pities it. He even sent a handsome sum an- 
 nonymously to the man from whom he had once 
 extorted the large fee. "I suppose," he said to 
 himself a little mockingly, " that is what we hear 
 spoken of as ' conscience money.' I'm getting 
 pious." He did, in fact, now and then of a Sun- 
 day morning, wander up the hill to the chapel on 
 the Heights where he had been married, and sat in 
 a dark corner behind a pillar close to the door. 
 The droning voice of the old clergyman soothed 
 him. Sometimes he bent his head forward during 
 the prayers and Litany. Once he was lulled to a 
 moment's slumber, and when he awoke he heard a
 
 246 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 flutter beside him and thought it was Paula Paula 
 as she had looked on their wedding day, when they 
 had knelt together side by side for the blessing. 
 Bnt, no ! It was a young lady in a smart pink bon- 
 net who had come into the pew and awakened him, 
 knocking over his hat and cane. That was all. 
 But his heart contracted, and the agitation of the 
 illusion lingered with him all the day. 
 
 He missed her. 
 
 He could sleep now, and his cleared vision saw 
 all as it was. He told himself that it was hideous. 
 As the weeks passed and he returned slowly to 
 manhood's normal health he saw and judged him- 
 self. What ? He had driven that young, shy creat- 
 ure away from him into the streets? His wife? 
 The old remorse had a new basis. It went back 
 farther now, to the very beginning. He had never 
 loved; he had never loved anybody but himself, 
 never. That was the secret. He now knew all. 
 
 One day of early autumn he wandered aimlessly, 
 holding a lamp aloft in his hand, into the room 
 which Paula had occupied before their marriage 
 her girl's room. It was furnished as it had been 
 then and always, and her desk was still kept here, 
 for she had continued to use the apartment after 
 her marriage as a sitting and writing room. With 
 the portraits and other objects of value belonging 
 especially to her family, her papers and letters had
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 247 
 
 been hastily snatched from this desk's security and 
 sent to her. It was empty, rifled of its treasures. 
 He put the lamp down on a neighboring table, and 
 pushing a chair before him sat down, mechanically 
 pulling open the desk so as to rest his arm upon it. 
 It was large and old-fashioned, and he began fumb- 
 ling through its drawers and pigeon holes, looking 
 into their recesses as if seeking for some word, 
 some line that should recall a lost presence. He 
 started once and glanced over his shoulder. Again 
 he had fancied that her light step was on the thresh- 
 old, but it was only a gust of wind blown from an 
 open window in the hall. 
 
 There was one drawer which had no key or knob 
 to it, and was evidently what girls call " secret," a 
 holy of holies, into which precious documents and 
 missives are thrust and kept from argus eyes. He 
 unfastened a knife from his watch chain and be- 
 gan to pry it open. It resisted at first, but finally 
 gave way. As it did so, in its depths was revealed 
 a gleam of something white. It proved to be a 
 bundle of letters tied with a blue ribbon, and on a 
 card was written in Paula's handwriting, "Letters 
 from Norwood while at hospital with papa." Un- 
 der these were two or three sheets of paper rent 
 from some scrap-book or journal and themselves 
 torn across in four or five pieces. It was evident 
 they had been intended for the waste basket or the
 
 248 A PURITAX PAGAN. 
 
 burning, and had been carelessly forgotten here. 
 He rose, arid approaching the table upon which the 
 lamp rested undid the ribbon and began to read 
 over his own letters. They were not what are 
 called love letters, in the exact acceptance of the 
 words. They were free from all terms of endear- 
 ment, and their language was reserved, almost 
 timid. But they were full of life and freshness, 
 and as Norwood read them over he himself realized 
 their penetrating charm. He had, in fact, as I have 
 said before, an epistolary genius. He could write 
 with that eloquence which the magnetism of large 
 audiences always roused in him. Men who knew 
 his gifts the strong weapons of logic, the powers 
 of rhetoric he wielded were sometimes disap- 
 pointed when they encountered him in the lighter 
 fencing of drawing-rooms. He was too thoroughly 
 American, too earnest for the trivial brilliance, the 
 give, take, and parry of the social repartee. 
 
 He did not find the perusal of these old letters 
 very gay. We have all probably " been there," as 
 the slang phrase goes, and these backward journeys, 
 if sometimes profitable, are not cheerful. A curi- 
 ous tightening of the throat warned him to put 
 them by. There was no use in stirring these dead 
 years up. They were over, ah ! well over, the years 
 wherein he had been, comparatively speaking, an 
 innocent and happy man.
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 249 
 
 He tied them up again and replaced the card 
 with Paula's writing upon it and put them back in 
 the same place. He wondered to himself why. He 
 then gathered the torn papers of which I have 
 spoken, and again neared the light. It was only 
 the matter of a second or two to fit the jagged 
 edges together and thus to reconstruct the writing 
 upon them. There were only two or three pages 
 torn from a diary or record. 
 
 This is w,hat he read : 
 
 "March 18th. I walked alone to-day by the 
 river. The snow lay melting in light piles on the 
 brown grasses of the bank. The air was heavy. 
 The skies were of a uniform somber gray color, and 
 as I walked I thought of you. I wondered, as I so 
 often have before, if you love me. I am inexperi- 
 enced ; I do not know love. But this is not what I 
 had imagined, what I had thought. Yet if it were 
 proved to me that you did not, that you could not 
 love me, who am so far, far your inferior in every- 
 thing (I feel and see this daily. I lack tact, I lack 
 grace of mind) should I have the courage to give 
 you again your freedom, to leave you ? Something 
 in me says ' no.' No, I must die near you . . . 
 dear. Let me, will you, die? Yes, I sometimes 
 have felt that knowing you cold I might still love 
 you with entire abnegation ; bring you my love, 
 saying 'take it,' for without you it is valueless.
 
 250 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 But then my pride rises and chokes me ; there 
 comes revolt ..." 
 
 Here there was a piece torn off and lost. He 
 turned with hands that shook strangely to the other 
 sheet : 
 
 " May 9th. I love you with passion. I have 
 given myself. You have my soul. I am lost in 
 you. You frighten and possess me. I am yours. 
 Oh, terrible thought! Lost in another who, per- 
 haps, is not all mine, for sometimes, sometimes all 
 the charm, the beauty, falls. You say a word in- 
 differently, you turn your head away, your eyes are 
 cold, you return my kiss with a careless manner. 
 Oh, the agony ! Life is terrible ! I know I am 
 insufficient for you. I do not know life. I feel, I 
 believe you are a good, pure man. I trust you 
 implicitly. God have mercy on me if I did not ! 
 But you wound me and torture me. You make my 
 heart, my poor heart that adores you, bleed and 
 tremble . . . 
 
 " May 16th. Yesterday I hated you. It was a 
 horrible day. I hate your beauty ! You are too 
 handsome for me. But to-day, dearest, I love you 
 again. Love me a little, will you? Only a little. 
 I love you, darling ! " 
 
 There was more of it. It was all in the same 
 strain. So this exquisite young soul, instead of 
 pouring out all the wealth of its youthful fervor
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 251 
 
 upon his breast, where it should have found shelter 
 and peace, this frightened girl he had held in his 
 arms, went to this chill, unanswering paper to pour 
 out the overflow of a misunderstood affection. 
 
 Norwood folded the pieces together and rever- 
 ently laid them back into the desk again. He was 
 almost afraid to touch them lest these stained hands 
 of his should sully their passionate purity. But he 
 need not have been afraid, for at that moment a 
 miracle had taken place within him. Redemption 
 had become possible for him, nay, was nigh. Love, 
 the conqueror, stirred within him, crying for light. 
 When he had put the burning words away out of 
 sight he came and threw himself upon her narrow 
 bed, upon her child's pillow which had remained 
 there through all of the years, and it alone was the 
 silent witness of his bitter and stinging tears ; tears, 
 which as they fell seemed to singe and scorch his 
 thin brown cheeks. Yet in these tears there was 
 distilled a drop tender as is the dew of a new dawn 
 of promise, a dawn of hope on a veiled, indistinct 
 horizon. He remained there all that night. After 
 this he moved his things into this room and made 
 it his own, sleeping nightly upon Paula's cot. But 
 before he slept again he wrote to her. It was the 
 baring of the man's whole being. In it he ac- 
 knowledged that he had not fully loved her before, 
 had not known her, but that now he knew her and
 
 252 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 what he had lost. It was a manly letter a letter 
 at once hard and easy to write, as are the words we 
 trace in our own blood. 
 
 Then he had found out where she was and had sent 
 it to her. It was the letter which Paula returned to 
 him from Washington. When he received it again 
 he was alone in his offices. He had thought she 
 would at least open it. He had been overconfident. 
 The blow was a severe one. He was about to tear 
 it up in his discouragement, but something seemed 
 to arrest his hand, to whisper to him " Wait." He 
 thrust it unopened into his breast. That night he 
 placed it, still sealed, in Paula's desk. 
 
 The winter passed for him in hard work and 
 constant toil. He worked for others now ; used 
 his talents less for himself than as a citizen. He 
 became more and more widely known in the cur- 
 rent of men who struggle and strive. If she heard 
 of him it should be with pride. Ever and anon he 
 wrote to Paula, and when the letters were returned 
 to him he put them away with the accumulating 
 pile in her desk. Some day she would find them 
 there, perhaps. Who could know? If he were 
 dead she would read them then, and . . . under- 
 stand. The thought of her had become the one 
 dream of all his waking moments now. He read 
 about her in the newspapers. Sometimes he grew 
 frightened. Would she love another in this new
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 253 
 
 life? An unreasoning jealousy would then seize 
 him. " I am her husband," he said to himself, 
 manlike, " they dare not." 
 
 "When the next summer came he found himself 
 longing for a free access to the woods and streams. 
 His old peculiar desire to be lost in Nature awoke. 
 His mother was in Europe; he had no ties. He 
 shouldered his rifle and joined a friend, a silent, 
 solitary man, who respected his reserve and privacy, 
 and was hence congenial, and the two went up to- 
 gether to shoot big game in the wild Maine woods. 
 
 Norwood was changed. His hair was streaked 
 with gray now. Suffering had traced indelible 
 lines upon his forehead. His lips, so full and 
 smiling once, with their redness, parted from his 
 white teeth with a sterner expression. His broad 
 shoulders stooped a little. His friends thought him 
 grown very old.
 
 CHAPTEE XVIII. 
 
 THE day after Norwood reached his first stop- 
 ping place a little inn which lay upon the outskirts 
 of the hunting region he went into the rough 
 stables with his landlord and picked out a small, 
 shaggy pony, mounted him his long legs incased 
 in high hunters' leggins, almost bringing his feet 
 into contact with the dust and started to go a few 
 miles up a neighboring hill in quest of a guide who 
 had been recommended to him as eminently effi- 
 cient. A competent pilot was necessary through 
 the trackless waste into which he and his com- 
 panion intended to penetrate. His way led up the 
 mountain side and gave him a distant view of the 
 sea. The noon had been a burning one ; the after- 
 noon was still very warm ; no breezes blew from 
 the ocean, on whose breast, far in a misty zone of 
 calms, a myriad ships caught in the doldrums 
 swung lazily in hopeless apathy. As he climbed 
 the steep ascent on his valiant little charger the 
 sun, which seemed obstinately high up in the
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 255 
 
 heavens for the hour, beat rudely upon his neck 
 and back. He thought, with a sort of dismay, of 
 the return which would take place within an hour, 
 and how extremely painful it would be to face the 
 glare and heat which he was now, as it were, leav- 
 ing behind him. His skin, not yet kiln-dried, as it 
 would soon become by exposure to the elements, 
 smarted already in the oblique intensity of blinding 
 blue beams. 
 
 The country which surrounded him was a para- 
 dise of dreams. Below him the distant sea stretched 
 from a rocky promonotory ; to his left a rapid fall 
 of the land, suave and pastoral, melted into fields 
 where two or three laborers were driving their 
 ploughs drawn by oxen. They moved gravely, with 
 the dignity and self-respect, which gives little and 
 takes nothing, of the American tiller of the soil. 
 Recent rains had left water lines in the furrows, and 
 a mist of humidity rose like smoke where their in- 
 dentures lay upon the meadows. Between the hill 
 and the lowlands were fringes of colossal trees 
 whose foliage cast fantastic shadows against the 
 background of a brilliant sunshine. There were 
 no sounds except those vague improvisations of 
 Nature in her grandiose mood the sigh of the 
 distant forest, the breaking of the waves upon the 
 rocks below. How bountiful and beautiful was 
 Nature 1 To the man's soul she spoke to-day a
 
 256 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 strange and confused language. She told him of 
 his helplessness of the helplessness of all men in 
 spritual warfare ; she seemed to whisper of aid 
 in his need in such a crisis as had found him un- 
 prepared and left him wrecked. She seemed to 
 hold out her hand to him generously with proffer 
 of consolation in its open palm. Where was help ? 
 Had any man ever been so cursed as he ? This was 
 Paula's thought of herself when she lay low with 
 the " mood " upon her. 
 
 To dismiss useless broodings he urged his horse 
 quickly onward, so swiftly, indeed, that he had soon 
 reached the hilltop. Here, again, he found a small 
 inn, with accommodations for a few travelers, and 
 he dismounted, announcing his errand to a wild- 
 haired boy who emerged from a neighboring barn 
 on hearing the horse's hoofs resound upon the hard 
 ground-rock pathway. Norwood threw the reins 
 to the lad. 
 
 "Is it Billy the Buck your wantin' ?" asked the 
 boy, eyeing him. " I'll have him around yere in a 
 minnit, sir." 
 
 Having answered that it was " Billy " he sought, 
 Norwood dismounted and entered the house. He 
 made his way into a low, ground-floor apartment, 
 which was evidently the best parlor of the establish- 
 ment. The room was deserted and smelled musty. 
 Its principal decorations were two or three stuffed
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 257 
 
 goshawks, which occupied the chimney-piece and 
 encumbered the etageres with majestic, extended 
 pinions and threatening beaks. Upon its walls 
 were a few cheap prints. But it was cool and 
 dark, and therefore pleasanter than the outside re- 
 flections from the crude whitewashed walls of the 
 hostelry and its adjacent buildings. 
 
 Norwood took off his hat and began to fan him- 
 self with it, tilting back in a low rocking-chair, and 
 wiping the perspiration as he did so from his fore- 
 head. Seeing some books upon the marble-topped 
 table wliich stood in the middle of the room and 
 near wliich he sat, he extricated a pamphlet from 
 among them and, playing with it, began to twist it 
 into an extemporary fan. As he did so its title, 
 which was in a somewhat pronounced type, arrested 
 his attention. It was this, " Mother, will father be 
 a Goat ? " The query was not certainly a cooling 
 one as propounded to an already overheated soul. 
 But such as it was it awakened a curiosity stronger 
 than the desire for a draught of air, and Norwood 
 found himself flecking the leaves of the tract for 
 such it proved to be with a good deal of con- 
 temptuous impatience. 
 
 In this homily it was set forth that listening at 
 the door one day a proverbially dangerous amuse- 
 ment for such as shrink from the truth the father 
 
 of a promising boy heard his offspring ask this edi- 
 17
 
 258 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 fying question of the wife of liis, the sinner's, bosom. 
 Immediately struck to the heart with humiliation, 
 penitence, and remorse, the guilty parent fell upon 
 his knees and "got religion," then and there. 
 Having conned this lesson, sucked out its marrow, 
 Norwood cast the thing from him with an exclama- 
 tion which I regret to say was profane. Was it 
 possible that there existed people who could be 
 awakened to a sense of duty or of moral danger 
 through such puerile and disgusting methods ? 
 What and who could they be like those who wrote 
 and read such stuff as this ? He moved nearer the 
 table. Evidently some person or persons piously 
 inclined, deeply interested in religious and theologi- 
 cal matters, had left the mark of their visit on this 
 secluded mountain top. But Norwood found the 
 books to be so dissimilar that he could hardly fancy 
 them to compose the same individual's library. 
 The next volume he took up bore the author's 
 name, that of an English divine, evidently of the 
 established, and even very much established, church. 
 Its appellation was " Spiritual Combat." Opening 
 it at random, he lit upon a passage which treated of 
 the joys of sense, of the pleasures of the flesh and 
 its reprehensible appetites, and of the imperative 
 necessity of an instantaneous cutting off of all con- 
 tamination by forcible, nay, heroic measures, if any 
 progress whatsoever in the spiritual combat was to
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 259 
 
 be hoped for. Among other recipes for extermi- 
 nating the animal instincts it recommended to the 
 young man who should be inclined to regard too 
 leniently the snares of feminine beauty, the imag- 
 ining of that beauty after death's decomposition 
 had set in, aiding the imagination by a realism of 
 detail to whose horrors Dumas' La Dame aux Ca- 
 melias has alone initiated those who have had the 
 courage not to skip its opening chapter. "With a 
 groan and a sudden sense of sickness, Norwood 
 again thrust the second book away, while a flood of 
 suppressed pain not unmingled with anger swept 
 through him. " Pah ! " he said. 
 
 Still another book lay upon the table, a larger 
 one this time, more pretentious in binding as in di- 
 mensions. To his great surprise it turned out to 
 be a copy of Frederick Robertson's sermons. This 
 was most unexpected. Once before, when very 
 young, the book had fallen into his hands, and he 
 dimly recalled a discourse which at the time had 
 impressed him. He now hurriedly glanced through 
 the volume, trying to find it once again. Yes, here 
 it was. He remembered it perfectly. The subject 
 matter was of remorse. How sweet and cool and 
 sane, in the best spiritual sense, were its teachings 
 after the lurid, unnatural strain, the morbid, earthly 
 futilities, the diseased views of the other writers. 
 He felt the force, the intellect, the nobility, like the
 
 260 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 rush of another, a purer atmosphere. It was like 
 a lark's song rising to the light. The lesson, the 
 injunction, was a simple one : To press onward 
 through " forgetfulness of the past." Repinings 
 were useless. What was done was done, absorbed 
 into a part of human experience, an atom of that 
 great mystery of man's destiny which involves us 
 all. Not worth much regret, not much. " On- 
 ward ! " was to be the motto and the atonement. 
 Away with the vain frettings which paralyze en- 
 deavor, bringing in their train paresis of the will, 
 decay, and despair. Here, close at hand, lay repara- 
 tion, rehabilitation, hope. They bade the guilty one 
 look up ; never back. Look forward, where higher 
 aims and aspirations beckoned. 
 
 When " Billy " came in he was still reading. 
 
 As he rode home he remembered the glare and 
 the heat he had so dreaded, and, behold, they were 
 no longer here ! A crisp wind had blown up from 
 the south, ruffling the hillside, and rallying upon its 
 wings a delicious freshness. He drew great whiffs 
 of its wooing ozone into his parched and panting 
 lungs. A pile of gray clouds had suddenly banked 
 themselves upon a near horizon in whose dusky 
 bowl the sun's red disk had been swallowed up. A 
 dampness as of an impending shower moistened 
 the air with the acrid fragrance of oak and alder 
 and ash, mixed with the tenderer odors of rushes
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 261 
 
 and iris and scabious, which bathed their stems in 
 the dripping, dropping coldness of a mountain 
 rivulet. 
 
 Norwood was something of a hylozoist, and he 
 wondered to himself if all these wayside flowers 
 might not be living creatures with hopes and fears 
 and joys, and not made alone to minister to man's 
 selfish and sensual vanity. It was a pretty conceit 
 if not a proved one. A hum of insect life filled his 
 ears. The yellow wagtail, the cricket, myriads of 
 flies with gaudy, gauzy wings, buzzed about his 
 horse's ears. Lazily rocked upon the gusts of air 
 there was a rustle of bird's wings rushing swiftly 
 to seek shelter before a threatening gale. So, the 
 homeward journey was not so terrible after all. 
 There were sights and sounds enough to wake up a 
 hundred human hearts with their cheer and their 
 promises. 
 
 " Forgetf ulness of the past." This, then, was the 
 key. He hugged it to himself as we do the open 
 sesame of the lost door we fain would open, of the 
 hidden treasure we fain would grasp again. A fool 
 can ask questions, it is the province of genius to an- 
 swer them. Here was an answer then " forgetful- 
 ness." God grant it might be his at last! And 
 what was this God to whom his heart went up, 
 soaring in a sudden supplication ? An anthropo- 
 morphous being or a mere essence which pervaded
 
 262 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 a space, palpitating with its presence ? What mat- 
 tered it? God! Even for those foolish writings 
 he could now feel a pitiful indulgence. Were they 
 not the blind if ill-directed gropings in that darkness 
 which had well-nigh overwhelmed him? a longing 
 for freedom ? Their very grotesqueness became 
 pathetic. Conscience, no longer idle, but seeking 
 wisdom, truth, and power. Let such as are spiritu- 
 ally bankrupt scoff at his reflections. To those who 
 have met these sudden experiences they are as real 
 as the quivering intensity of love and of life, and 
 how few have tasted the true meanings of these 
 last! 
 
 Nature took the strong man into her loving and 
 comforting embrace ; the rising storm lulled his 
 tired head upon its breast. For the first time in 
 months a sense of returning youth seemed possible 
 to him, nay, of happiness. He remembered some 
 words he had once read : " Life is arid and terrible ; 
 repose is a dream ; prudence is useless. Mere rea- 
 son alone serves to dry the heart. There is but one 
 virtue the eternal sacrifice of one's self." ifes, 
 that was it. He had been an egotist. Egoism is 
 blind and faithless. But what of love? Love 
 knows. And again within him stirred that strange 
 flutter as of something imprisoned pulling at its 
 chain. 
 
 When he drew up at his inn the rain began to
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 263 
 
 patter on the piazza roof. In a few moments the 
 surrounding country was shaken by the summer's 
 tempest. The trees snapped and bowed. The 
 leaves whirled across the valley in tornadoes of 
 hurrying dust, and the thunder boomed amid the 
 hurricane athwart the near and distant hills, making 
 them reverberate with its rumble of danger. Stand- 
 ing outside upon the porch, the chill wind and the 
 lightning in his hair, Norwood felt once more that 
 joy in nature's wilder aspects, that old intoxication 
 which Paula had called " pagan," and which filled 
 his being with its revel at the grandeur, the de- 
 lirium of a world's unrest. 
 
 But deep in the recesses of his own heart a new 
 diapason had been struck which transformed all he 
 saw and felt with its divine completeness. A pur- 
 pose which should presently become an obsession 
 awoke within him, urgent upon his mind, his will, 
 his energies, vivid and forcible. Would it be fruit- 
 ful ? Must the aftermath of belated harvests ever 
 be dwarfed and poor in spite of labor and pain ? 
 Have there not been splendid and luscious flowers, 
 nay, and fruits, which have budded late ? Who 
 shall say ? A great purpose with its belief makes 
 us bear a charmed life. Norwood felt that nothing 
 could touch him now. Before he slept he wrote to 
 Paula again one of those outpourings which re- 
 lease an overburdened heart telling her how time
 
 264 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 itself would be too short to hold the meed of his 
 repentance. He asked her timidly if a whole life's 
 devotion could never blot out a moment's folly and 
 its terrible blight. He implored her for one word, 
 one sign. But this letter, like the others, was re- 
 turned in less than a week unopened. It found 
 hiiw at his camp fire in the forest.
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 ALL exaltation is, of its very nature, ephemeral. 
 Norwood's was no exception. His was to be none 
 the less fruitful of resolve and effort because in the 
 early dawn of the following morning it had evapo- 
 rated. He was a keen sportsman. He awoke to 
 remember it, and that his guide and his friend 
 were impatiently waiting for him. The practical 
 detail of the day forced itself upon him. The 
 American has no time to waste in dreams or even 
 in his pleasures, which are hurriedly snatched from 
 engrossing care. He must be up betimes, stirring. 
 Nothing is more fatiguing than to watch the course 
 of a national holiday in the United States. In- 
 dolence is a tonic ; our nation prefers quinine. He 
 had come up here to hunt the deer ; the deer must 
 be hunted. 
 
 Soothed to sleep by the sighing winds, by the 
 resinous odors of the pines, he felt refreshed when 
 he leaned from his low window and looked out 
 upon a jeweled sky. The woody hills, sketchy
 
 266 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 and indistinct, their evergreens detached in somber- 
 ness upon the lighter verdure of younger growths, 
 loomed up against a misty, golden day, their un- 
 trodden distances awakening agreeable reveries in a 
 hunter's breast as well as in the artist's or poet's 
 imagination. When, an hour or two later, Nor- 
 wood found himself alone in these woods, separated 
 by the chances of the chase from his companions 
 he had voluteered a brief reconnoissance he peered 
 with a delicious sense of freedom into the woodland 
 recesses, full of perfume, twittering with the light 
 choruses of summer birds. The salient streaks of 
 sunshine shot aslant his pathway, piercing the 
 tender boughs, speaking of calm and repose to the 
 man of struggle who had come to break their quiet- 
 ness with the shock of his own restlessness ; amid 
 their joy and life to cast the dissonance of suffering 
 and of death. The ground he advanced upon seemed 
 to betoken, as he had hoped, that he was approach- 
 ing a feeding place for the deer. Great masses of 
 timber alternating with spurs of rock, half moss- 
 hidden, and bisected with streams whose pleasant 
 trickle cooled his intruding shadow, warned him 
 of the presence of the inhabitants of the forest. 
 
 Hark ! What was that ? Distinctly he had heard 
 close above him upon a woody crest the crackle of 
 boughs, the suggestion of a stir, the crop, crop, 
 crop, as of some creatures eating. His boots made
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 267 
 
 sucli a harsh sound upon the dry twigs and slippery 
 cones that he instinctively stopped and pulled them 
 off. Then, throwing himself on the ground^ he ad- 
 vanced painfully enough, crawling serpent-like up- 
 on his belly, tearing his hands upon the tentacles of 
 rock which protruded from the soil, his eyes half 
 blinded by a fine vegetable dust blown from the 
 long, dry grasses, his knees full of spikes and his 
 fingers of splinters. He finally got himself so near 
 to the browsing herd that he could almost hear 
 their breathing. He could see that there were 
 several does and two bucks among them. The older 
 of these last, a superb fellow, attracted Norwood 
 by his splendid head. He pushed the coarse under- 
 growth with considerable difficulty from before his 
 face, and. still lying low, he adjusted his rifle and 
 fired. The buck he had aimed at wheeled at the 
 shot, while the others fled wildly from this invis- 
 ible foe like leaves before the storm. The wound- 
 ed animal ran a hundred yards or so and then, 
 with a cry of agony, pitched on his head down 
 a gentle inclination and lay quite still, apparently 
 dead. 
 
 Not waiting to secure him Norwood started in 
 full pursuit of the flying herd, sending random 
 shots after them. One doe was wounded in his 
 endeavor. Their meat being better than that of 
 the males, Norwood was congratulating himself on
 
 268 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 a good supper roasted at night over the camp fire. 
 He ran up quickly, intending to finish the creature 
 at once with his knife and then return and see to 
 his buck which had not moved from where it 
 had fallen. The doe lay upon one side panting, its 
 limbs agitated by convulsive throes, but seemingly 
 more through fear than pain, for, upon examina- 
 tion, Norwood found that its wound, although bleed- 
 ing profusely, was not a deep one. The hot pleas- 
 ure of the chase and its intoxication were upon him. 
 He was about plunging his knife triumphantly into 
 his victim when she turned her beautiful head and 
 distended nostrils toward him and looked at him. 
 His arms dropped powerless by his side. He bent 
 again to examine the wound, probed it with his 
 finger, then springing to his feet and over a fallen 
 tree to where a tiny rill had wojn in the rock a 
 lake of cool, dark water, he stooped and dipped his 
 handkerchief, returning to press its surface into the 
 dumb thing's quivering flank. Again she looked at 
 him, and this time gratefully with large, pathetic 
 eyes. They were Paula's. 
 
 " Am I growing into a silly school-girl ? " he 
 thought, washing out the wound he had made 
 with gentle touches and rapid skill. It was at this 
 very moment his friend's flushed visage appeared 
 just over an edge of rock with an expression of 
 such mute amazement that Norwood could not help
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 269 
 
 laughing, although it must be confessed he felt 
 rather foolish. 
 
 " I've been watching you for ten minutes," said 
 this gentleman. " Don't let me disturb you. If 
 you and the lady prefer to be alone, say so at once 
 and I'll vanish." 
 
 " Billy " then ran up brandishing his big hunt- 
 ing knife, but Norwood warned him off almost 
 savagely. " Hold off," he said. " Don't you see 
 that I have given her her life ? " 
 
 " If any one had told me, Norwood," said his 
 friend later, " that you were chicken-hearted at 
 the sight of blood, I would have given him the lie. 
 I always thought you a hardy plant, and tough. 
 What's the matter with you, old man ? " 
 
 " Good-by, my dear," whispered Norwood to 
 the doe, who, with a moan and shiver of excite- 
 ment, was vainly trying to get once more upon her 
 slender legs. " Next time you'll believe in me," 
 he mumbled in her ear. " If ever she trusts me 
 again," he murmured to himself, " I am saved. I 
 believe in God." 
 
 The balsamic airs of the forest would soon 
 surely heal this wound, but . . . that other ! 
 
 So they tramped back to where the buck 
 lay dead upon the slope. They carried away his 
 superb head with them, borne upon the guide's 
 shoulders. By and by when Billy had made a fire,
 
 270 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 a small one a drop of Indian blood in him had 
 bred contempt for the white man's large flame to 
 which he dares not draw near his friend tried to 
 chaff Norwood once more, but something in the 
 latter's manner quickly quelled the spring of his 
 humor. 
 
 Norwood, wrapped in his blanket that night, his 
 head on his pillow of boughs, thought of a strange 
 duality of nature, swift currents, reckless impulses, 
 a pagan's greed, and lust for pleasure and for 
 riot ; and then of the Puritan's presage of guilt, up- 
 lifted finger of menace, alarm, terror-stricken con- 
 science, and both both how incomplete, how pitiful, 
 how poor ! A powerful intelligence paralyzed by 
 feeble purposes, famished asceticism punished by 
 temptation, joys of sense poisoned by remorse. He 
 suffered from that peculiar doubt which besets re- 
 flective minds as to whether their renunciations, 
 their exaltations, be not base calculation after all. 
 " If she trusts me I am saved." Ay, here again he 
 sought -reward. Was he incapable, then, of sacri- 
 fice? But the poor fellow's last years had been 
 one long trouble. A pitying destiny was even now 
 leading him into flowering ways where his spirit 
 should find peace. Again Nature wooed him to 
 listen to her wild and mysterious voices, and he be- 
 came attuned, as it were, to the tale she unfolded. 
 A distant waterfall lent its music to the night, and
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 271 
 
 the whispering winds in the brandies above him 
 seemed to speak to him of a Being to whom the 
 discords of time and space the inexplicable prob- 
 lems that drive men to despair were but the slight 
 creaking of a machinery whose jarring threat 
 would by and by result in perfect work. A long- 
 ing to pierce the secret and know all, to drink more 
 deeply of this great shrouded wisdom, drove him 
 in his loneliness and impatience to his knees. Be- 
 fore he slept he prayed. 
 
 Destiny is as various in the shapes she assumes 
 as the evil elf himself who decoys and taunts. 
 When she ascended to Norwood's offices a month 
 later, clad in the portly envelope of Singleton Ack- 
 ley, Esq., it would have been difficult to recognize 
 the coy damsel. Jkfr. Ackley was slowly puffing 
 up the stairs when an impetus from above hurled a 
 descending form upon his surprised bosom. 
 
 " Hullo ! " he said. 
 
 " Hullo," said the person thus addressed, right- 
 ing himself, and clutching the railing with one 
 hand and Mr. Ackley with the other, leaving the 
 mark of a dirty finger on this gentleman's immacu- 
 late shirt front. It was a yellow-faced man in a 
 high black hat and with a long, unpleasant nose. 
 
 " Beg your pardon, sir, but the fact is, sir, this 
 rapid descent was not all my own fault. I am none 
 the less obliged to you, sir, for breaking my fall."
 
 272 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 Norwood was fanning himself on the top of the 
 stairs with his handkerchief. " I am delighted to 
 see you, Mr. Ackley." He seemed a trifle heated, 
 and pulled his cuffs down with a jerk over his 
 hands, " Hum ! " 
 
 " I was nearly knocked overboard," said Mr. 
 Ackley, emerging upon the landing. 
 
 " Ha, ha," laughed Norwood. " I have just 
 been administering some summary justice here. 
 The fellow had to be taken by the nape of his neck 
 and ousted from my offices, so to speak. He was 
 offensive. I hope you are not hurt." 
 
 " The injuries I have sustained are not perma- 
 nent, I think," said Mr. Ackley with a grin, read- 
 justing his eyeglass and looking at the finger marks 
 upon his linen. "My laundress can, I fancy, 
 remedy them. But, bless me," he went or>, " what a 
 regal place you have got here ! Eeminds one of the 
 Winter Palace. Capital flooring, Mr. Norwood. 
 Where do you find this mosaic ? " 
 
 He then told Norwood as they entered the lat- 
 ter's private rooms, that he had come to consult 
 him legally, and he stated his business. 
 
 " That is not much in my line," said Norwood, 
 whose largely increasing practice was making of 
 him a specialist. 
 
 " No ? Am I then to understand you will have 
 nothing to do with me ? "
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 273 
 
 " Let me see," said Norwood, in his short, dry 
 office voice. " Perhaps I could have it managed for 
 you. My partner's here. He looks after that 
 branch of the law for me." 
 
 " I'd be obliged to you," said Mr. Ackley, set- 
 tling himself squarely in his seat. He had come to 
 please Mrs. Heathcote, and he had no idea of being 
 treated like an intruder, or of being thrown down- 
 stairs for malfeasance like the yellow man. The 
 partner was called, and the business, a trifling 
 enough matter, placed in his hands. But before he 
 left Mr. Ackley had invited Norwood to dine with 
 him the next day at his club with a party of men. 
 
 18
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 ONE day at East Brompton where she and 
 Paula had gone for a summering after their Wash- 
 ington campaign, Mrs. Sorchan gave vent to an ex- 
 clamation of interest and surprise over her morning 
 newspaper. She was ensconced in a large arm-chair 
 on the porch, and Paula was sitting on the step 
 with her hands clasped across her knees and with 
 eyes to seaward. 
 
 " What do you think ! Colonel Heathcote has 
 France." 
 
 " No ! Really ? How delightful ! " said Paula 
 springing up. " My sweet Princess wanted it. I 
 am so glad. Let me read." 
 
 Then they perused together the announcement 
 that Colonel Heathcote had been offered and had 
 accepted the French legation. 
 
 The next winter found these ladies one of 
 whom was restless and unhappy, and the other of 
 whom, after years of quietude, was not loath to 
 gratify that love of variety and change which char-
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 275 
 
 acterizes nearly all Americans in Europe. The 
 love of home is just developing with us. Accumu- 
 lated and inherited fortunes now only for the first 
 time permit of inherited homes, the Long Island 
 farmer having long been the only native who had 
 the true aristocratic appreciation of his ancestral 
 acres. These rugged lovers of their land are so 
 curiously like the Breton in their passionate attach- 
 ment to the soil and hatred of strangers that one 
 sometimes wonders if they have not a drop of these 
 hardy warriors' blood in their veins. 
 
 In Paris, it is needless to say, Paula was warmly 
 welcomed by the Heathcotes, whose position at 
 home and wealth of easy surroundings had placed 
 them at once on an agreeable footing in the French 
 capital. Mrs. Heathcote's beauty, her peculiar 
 charm of manner, her brilliant conversation, and 
 Colonel Heathcote's simple dignity having made 
 them unusual favorites in the most exclusive and 
 most narrow-minded of circles the French no- 
 Hesse. The caprice of a great lady had introduced 
 them into this holy of holies far more than their 
 official position could have done. A duchess of the 
 old soucke, not a duchess of that canaille of the 
 empire, as she would have termed the lesser lights, 
 who bore the same title emptily, a duchess whose 
 dead lord had been a peer of France, had put up 
 her eyeglass and gazed at Mrs. Heathcote one even-
 
 276 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 ing across a ball room as she made her entrance 
 between two foreign diplomats. 
 
 " Who is the lady with the pearls ? " she had 
 asked of the Count de Freysne, an elegant, good- 
 for-nothing, delightful person who, having himself 
 married an American girl, was supposed to know 
 all the passing strangers. 
 
 " That," said De Freysne, " is our new Ameri- 
 can ambassadress, my wife's compatriot." 
 
 He thought this sounded better than " minister's 
 wife," and would do as well for ignorant Parisian 
 ears. 
 
 Madame de Portes did not care much for De 
 Freysne's wife, but she liked De Freysne excess- 
 ively. She liked him riding over the meadows 
 close to her side in those famous hunts which she 
 yearly organized at one of her numerous domains, 
 and she liked him close to her skirts in the more 
 conventional atmosphere of Parisian drawing-rooms. 
 She was inclined that night to be amiable. 
 
 " She is really ires bien" she said. " By and by 
 you may present her to me, or, perhaps, since she is 
 in the corps, it will be etiquette that I seek her." 
 
 The fact that Mrs. Heathcote had shown no par- 
 ticular alacrity for the presentation when suggested 
 to her had probably raised her in the eccentric 
 Duchess's estimation. People accustomed to be 
 toadied learn to respect indifference. At any rate
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 277 
 
 she took a fancy to Mrs. Heathcote then and there, 
 and presently amused herself by showering civilities 
 upon her which others, even of her own people and 
 political convictions, had in vain struggled for years 
 to win. It was a whim. 
 
 " I wish you to meet Madame de Portes," said 
 Mrs. Heathcote to Paula, as they sat sipping after- 
 noon tea together, resting after a drive to the Bois, 
 in the cosy boudoir of the luxurious hotel which 
 was doing duty as the legation of our frugal re- 
 public. " She's been very kind to me in many 
 ways. Her salon is exclusive. She has a half-dozen 
 chateaux, gives the finest hunts in the country, and 
 her house in the Champs Elysees is the handsomest 
 in Paris. The tide of fashion has swept even these 
 doughty dames from their fortresses of the Rue 
 St. Dominique across the Seine, and the Duchess is 
 as pleased as a child with her new home. She will 
 show you all over it, and it's well worth seeing. 
 And now, dearest Paula, tell me of yourself. Who 
 did you have on board ? Were you ill ? You are 
 looking superbly." 
 
 " I am sunburned to a chip, which gives me 
 color. I am well. I love the sea, and am a valiant 
 sailor. There were some horrid, faded Connecticut 
 girls on board, who flirted with the officers. When 
 they could not absorb the captain, who was dirty 
 and smelled of whisky, they tackled the first mate.
 
 278 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 He used to get red when the older of these girls 
 looked at him. I wondered why. My maid gos- 
 siped and said they were quite dreadful. They were 
 university town belles ; perhaps this explains them. 
 Then there was a young physician from Elmira 
 who was extremely devoted to a retired actress, 
 who was very blonde with a doubtful complexion." 
 
 " Yes, I know her," said Mrs. Heathcote. 
 " There Is always one of them on every ship ; one 
 would feel in danger without her ; she seems to 
 secure safe passage for the other women on board, 
 . . . and who else ? " 
 
 " Aunt Amy discovered an agreeable Boston man, 
 who paid her assiduous court. I think she rather/ 
 liked it," said Paula, laughing, " but on the whole 
 they were a dreary lot." 
 
 " If you hate restraint as I do," said Mrs. 
 Heathcote, " it must have been a relief not to meet 
 acquaintances. At sea people are bores. I crave 
 the movement, the spectacle of society, because I am 
 accustomed to it, and there one can keep people 
 at respectful distances. But the longer I live the 
 less gregarious I become, the more I shrink from 
 close human contact. So few people are companion- 
 able. People who have only imagined life are so 
 tiresome to those who have drunk great draughts 
 of it." 
 
 " Yes," said Paula.
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 2T9 
 
 " "What has become of the Connecticut girls ? " 
 asked Mrs. Heathcote. 
 
 " Oh, they've settled themselves in the biggest 
 hotel they could find. They have to shop, that's 
 what they have come here for ; I met them yester- 
 day, on the march, rattling about with Dr. Fluke 
 the actress's property who looks upon them as 
 upon goddesses of wit and fashion. He seems to 
 have grown rather ashamed of his blonde since he 
 landed. She appeared, to be sure, in a pea-green 
 and gold costume, and a battered hat and plume on 
 her yellow wig as we neared Liverpool, which even 
 staggered Elmira's large indulgence/' 
 
 " I am sick of the American girl, both as a topic 
 and as a reality," sighed Mrs. Heathcote. " These 
 dreadful people will be dropping cards here to- 
 morrow. What am I to do with them ? Will you 
 tell me? Keginald insists I must visit them all, 
 fall upon their necks, hug, and make them welcome. 
 Of course one does have to be decent, for they are 
 Americans, unfortunately. It is so odd here, Paula. 
 One never sees a girl at all." 
 
 " Where are they kept ? " 
 
 " I am sure I don't know. One sees children, 
 but at a certain age they disappear and only emerge 
 again married. They can't go to the races because 
 of the demi-monde, nor to the opera on account of 
 the ballet. They never show at large entertain-
 
 280 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 ments ; they have their own dances sometimes when 
 they must be marrying, but I have not yet been 
 initiated into one of these secret ceremonials, al- 
 though Madame de Fortes is threatening to carry 
 me to one. I confess it is a relief not to find the 
 silly little ideas of young misses aired on all occa- 
 sions. I have always had a distinct preference for 
 grown up opinions." 
 
 " Do you approve of the French method of 
 bringing girls up ? " asked Paula, surprised. 
 
 " I think the liberty our unmarried women have 
 enjoyed has been greatly overdone," said Mrs. Heath- 
 cote. " It can not hurt a pearl like you, Paula ; 
 you are proud. But every woman is not proud. 
 The sort of freedom which existed with our great- 
 grandmothers, when customs were simple and men 
 worked hard and there was not much money, did 
 very well. But now we are getting a class of idlers ; 
 luxury has crept up. Oh, it's very nice, of course, 
 but a certain purity in the way of looking at things 
 is lost ; there's a greater laxity of speech now, too, 
 between the sexes ; things pass which formerly 
 would have shocked and scandalized ; then there is 
 no conviction in religious training. I pretend to 
 no extraordinary piety myself, but I sometimes 
 wonder how it will work in the future. We have 
 a good solid backbone of Puritanism, whose vigor 
 was bred into our bones and muscles. But our
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 281 
 
 children ? how will it be with them ? and with 
 theirs ? It is a wide subject, and may well make us 
 ponder. I believe that young people should be 
 controlled." 
 
 " But here the women are reputed to be ill-be- 
 haved after marriage. Surely," said Paula, "it is 
 worse than before." 
 
 " No, it isn't. It depends upon what you call 
 behaving ill. The memory of a studious, serious 
 girlhood is a great safeguard to a married woman. 
 Such was mine, and, believe me, dear Paula, I know 
 of what I speak. A perverted girl rarely makes 
 a sensitive, delicate-minded woman. But if she 
 really must turn out badly then I think the longer 
 she puts it off the better, don't you ? " 
 
 " How clever you are ! '.' 
 
 " We are always making a pother about our 
 girls being misjudged ; they are not misjudged in 
 the least, unless by their fathers and mothers. 
 American parents often seem to me stupidly, 
 wickedly ignorant of human nature. It is high 
 time American fathers looked after their daughters 
 better, were more vigilant." 
 
 " You remind me of one of Feuillet's heroes, 
 who shared your opinions." 
 
 " You sometimes remind me of his tempestuous 
 heroines ; but am I like a man ? " 
 
 " You are like a mind which may belong to
 
 282 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 either sex, with its philosophy and its humor, 
 dearest Princess. I lack both. Let me sit at your 
 feet and learn ? " 
 
 " Are you still very unhappy, my little Paula ? " 
 
 " Very, yes. But I am at rest when near you." 
 Paula's dark eyes looked up wistfully. 
 
 " I, too, have suffered," said Mrs. Heathcote. 
 " I loved once and unhappily. It will not leave rny 
 heart. I shall not speak of it again, only I want 
 you to understand that I know. It is dreadful, the 
 pain of it." 
 
 " Ah ! I was sure," said Paula. " I saw it in 
 your face by the dear old Riverside years ago." 
 
 " I wish you could open yourself more to me, 
 Paula," the Princess then said to her, but Paula 
 shrank a little, paling. 
 
 "No," she said, "it is too terrible. I have 
 tried ; I can not," 
 
 "As you will," said Mrs. Heathcote sadly. 
 " Yes, my dear," she went on after a pause, but 
 more lightly, " I wanted my breakfast one morning, 
 and they would not bring it to me ; I wanted the 
 moon ; but who knows ? perhaps it is green cheese, 
 after all a delusion. Mr. Ackley says nothing 
 could ever satisfy my longings. I don't know. 
 Perhaps not ; not now at least. I did what I could 
 with what was left. I have had courage." 
 
 " Oh I " said Paula, with the fire of enthusiasm
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 283 
 
 upon her lips, " You have the courage to help 
 others, to raise them when they are sinking. Was 
 it not your dear and beautiful hands which were 
 stretched out to me ? Can I ever forget ? " 
 
 " Now, my child, don't let us get lachrymose and 
 retrospective. Ellen Tree said no tears and no 
 emotions, that was the only complexion salve worth 
 purchasing. Come, and I'll show you our new ball 
 room. It's redecorated and quite splendid. We've 
 a dance on the carpet for to-night at which you're 
 to make a profound sensation." Mrs. Heathcote 
 rose. On her way she turned ; " Reginald is so 
 very generous to me," she said. 
 
 Paula's quick perceptions understood the deli- 
 cate impulse of this last tribute, and she pressed 
 Mrs. Heathcote' s hands in her own. 
 
 " How extraordinary the difference between peo- 
 ple!" she murmured, as they lifted the portiere that 
 led through two or three lesser drawing-rooms to 
 the great white one beyond them. 
 
 "Why, naturally." 
 
 " You have that adorable superfluous which is 
 everything no one can explain, it is too subtle." 
 
 "Havel?" 
 
 " More than any one else. I am so proud of 
 you here." 
 
 Then they fell to admiring the new decora- 
 tions.
 
 284 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 " Who do you think have arrived here ? " said 
 Mrs. Heathcote. "The Nailers. Tad's just the 
 same as in America ; delighted with everything. 
 He's the most amiable creature I ever saw. She is 
 younger and more foolish than ever. She has fast- 
 ened herself on the American colony, and, thank 
 God, has given up all aspirations for native social 
 triumphs. It would have been quite impossible. I 
 could not possibly have undertaken her." 
 
 " Who else is here ? " 
 
 " As to men, quite a number of drifting Ameri- 
 cans, and two or three English attaches ; the kind 
 one calls ' nice fellows,' that never make a wom- 
 an's pulses beat a whit the faster, shadowy shapes 
 doomed forever to haunt the outskirts of Paradise 
 like Dante's phantoms. They'll all be at your feet, 
 and you'll be as safe as they would be with Mrs. 
 Nailer she has her paw on one or two of Tad's 
 cronies already, but they're growing restive, and 
 when you appear. . . " 
 
 " I shall never learn coquetry ; I take every- 
 thing seriously." 
 
 " Not these ; you could not." 
 
 " Oh, I shall manage to be extreme ; hate or pity 
 them, or something." 
 
 " No, you won't. Mr. Ackley and I have done 
 you infinite good. You have improved. He used 
 to call you Tragedy."
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 285 
 
 " Did he ? " said Paula, laughing. " How saucy 
 of him ! What do you hear from him ? " 
 
 " A great many things that might interest you, 
 but that I shall not divulge." 
 
 " What can they be ? " 
 
 "You may know some day when the time 
 comes." 
 
 Paula wondered what her friend could mean. 
 Mrs. Heathcote had lately heard from Mr. Ackley 
 that he had seen Norwood, and that a certain 
 friendliness was growing up in their relations. 
 
 " Shall I call for you to-morrow to take you to 
 see Madame de Portes ? " asked Mrs. Heathcote. 
 " To-night there won't be time for us to make 
 plans." 
 
 "Is it worth while?" 
 
 "Quite," said the Princess decidedly, "and, 
 Paula, look your prettiest both to-night and to-mor- 
 row. I wish to exhibit you. You are not like 
 every one else ; that is your chic. See that your 
 gowns carry this out." 
 
 " Worth has just deigned to send me two made 
 up hastily, but they are as queer as you could de- 
 sire, and Aunt Amy and Sophie say becoming." 
 
 " I wish I had time to run in and see them, but 
 it is impossible to-day. I have to superintend the 
 placing of the plants, and here they come this very 
 minute."
 
 286 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 Some men began to mount the wide stairs, bear- 
 ing up in their arms huge palms and tall flowering 
 shrubs, so Paula made her adieus. She drove 
 straight home to the pretty apartment which her 
 aunt had taken for a few months in one of those 
 convenient and cheerful quarters of the town where 
 pilgrims from other lands are wont to congregate.
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 HAVING slept late after the dance at the lega- 
 tion, which had been spirited and had brought 
 Paula a new insight into diplomatic mysteries, she 
 drove, after her breakfast, to Mrs. Heathcote's, and 
 the two ladies had themselves conveyed to the hotel 
 of the Duchess de Portes. Two or three gayly 
 liveried lackeys piloted them at once through a 
 wide marble vestibule and across an antechamber or 
 two into the presence of their hostess. This visit 
 was by appointment Mrs. Heathcote having asked 
 permission to present an intimate friend and was, 
 therefore, at a much earlier hour than ceremony 
 would have dictated. They found the Duchess en- 
 tertaining two friends a young married woman 
 and her mother, who had evidently breakfasted 
 with her. They were in street costume, but hatless 
 and gloveless like herself. The older ladies were 
 smoking cigarettes, the younger one was embroid- 
 ering initials in the corner of a cambric pocket- 
 handkerchief.
 
 288 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 The apartment into winch Paula and Mrs. 
 Heathcote were ushered was vast and lofty, and 
 therefore in no wise encumbered by its variety 
 of artistic furniture, costly bibelots, screens, mir- 
 rors, lamps, pictures, plants, and flowers. With 
 its group of chatting women and its bright wood 
 fire it presented a cheerful, homelike appearance. 
 It was paneled with faded blue damask of an an- 
 tique pattern, and the hangings at the windows and 
 doors were of the same material and color. The 
 bowls of richly petaled pink roses which stood about 
 on the various tables were brought into bright relief 
 against this dim, almost dusky background, as well 
 as the glinting surface of innumerable sconces and 
 chandeliers. The general aspect of this salon was 
 one of luxurious comfort. The Duchess rose to 
 greet her visitors, and introduced them in turn to 
 her friends, the Countess de St. Pierre and the Mar- 
 quise de Fougeres. 
 
 Madame de Portes was in appearance no wise re- 
 markable. She was short and inclined to stoutness, 
 although her waist was tightened into moderate di- 
 mensions, thus accentuating somewhat forcibly what 
 was below and what above the line of her snugly 
 drawn belt. She had a red complexion that re- 
 sembled flowered damask, like that of the women 
 of the Deccan, and a small, white, fat hand. She 
 appeared to be about forty. She was attired in a
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 289 
 
 short, dark walking dress, and her hair was rather 
 disheveled, as if she might have thrown off her 
 bonnet in haste. 
 
 " I went out before breakfast," she said, readjust- 
 ing a loosened tress, but made no apology for the 
 simplicity of her toilet. She received Paula as if 
 she had known her always, and, after the first greet- 
 ing, paid but little attention to her. She resumed 
 her animated talk with the elderly Marquise, which 
 seemed to be apropos of a certain Madame Hoguon 
 who was not in society, who was thirsting to be ad- 
 mitted, and who was abetted in her aspirations by 
 the gentlemen. Against Madame Hoguon these 
 ladies launched forth tirades of considerable fero- 
 city, stating well-authenticated reasons why this up- 
 start should be definitely tabooed. Mrs. Heathcote 
 seemed au fait as to this bit of gossip, was ap- 
 pealed to and drawn in to give her opinion about 
 Madame Hoguon's delinquencies, social and moral. 
 Paula, sitting somewhat apart, began to feel a little 
 hurt, began to wish she had not come. She could 
 not but admire Mrs. Heathcote's nonchalant atti- 
 tude. It is a safe one always, it commands. There 
 was no eagerness, as of one who tried to please ; it 
 was evident that she tacitly expected to be pleased. 
 She had always been a sovereign ; she had no inten- 
 tion of abdicating. 
 
 " How I envy her ! " thought Paula. " But this 
 19
 
 290 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 ease is not given to every one. The Princess is 
 anxious that I shall appear well. I fancy reticence 
 and silence will be the safer method." They are 
 apt to be when one is embarrassed. 
 
 Madame De Fougeres was a lady of about sixty. 
 She wore a black-crape cap upon her reddish- 
 blonde hair, which was dressed in smooth bands 
 and was scarcely streaked with gray, a black bomba- 
 zine skirt, and a short, loose jacket of the same ma- 
 terial. Her features were pronounced, but regular 
 and handsome. She had been in her day considered 
 a great beauty, so Paula was told afterward. Some 
 years before, at the death of an only son, she had 
 assumed this extreme severity of costume. The 
 simplicity of her attire was only relieved by a half- 
 dozen magnificent rings she wore on her shapely 
 fingers. They and the cigarette and the distinctly 
 worldly spice of her conversation struck Paula as 
 incongruous to her nun-like garb and aspect. Her 
 daughter, Madame de St. Pierre, who was also 
 fair, had a small, turned-up nose, and a pair of 
 pretty, sly, golden eyes. She was exquisitely dressed 
 in a sort of half-mourning. There was something 
 about her fine and fastidious. 
 
 While they chatted round the fire a servant 
 came in and said that Laurent, Madame De St. 
 Pierre's maitre d'Mtel, had just come from this 
 lady's house bringing a message of importance from
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 291 
 
 Monsieur le Comte. An exclamation of annoyance 
 escaped tlie younger woman, but she smiled amiably, 
 and asked that Laureiu should be sent in to her if 
 Madame de Fortes permitted. Madame de Fortes 
 expressed her willingness, and Laurent soon made 
 his appearance. He was a respectable old gray- 
 haired person, evidently an heirloom. 
 
 " I have a telephone from the station, Madame 
 la Comtesse," he said, standing near the doorway, 
 " and Monsieur le Comte will be at home to-mor- 
 row morning." 
 
 "I expected as much," said Madame de St. 
 Pierre impatiently. " Jacques is coming home 
 because his uncle is dead. It is simply insensate. 
 I shall tell him so. Je lui rirai au nez. Why ! 
 Have I not buried the old gentleman myself? 
 Have I not attended to his son, who wanted to 
 kill himself ? What has Jacques to come home 
 for, will you tell me ? It is too provoking ! " 
 
 " Jacques is an excellent fellow," said Madame 
 de Fongeres. " He is shocked at the news ; he 
 hastens home." 
 
 Somehow Paula thought she detected a tremor 
 of malignity in the older lady's voice, notwith- 
 standing her soft words. 
 
 "It is ridiculous," said the daughter, and a 
 hunted, weary expression crept over her childlike 
 features.
 
 292 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 " Laure wanted a . -. . little rest," said the 
 mother apologetically. 
 
 " I really thought he was off for a month," 
 said Laure ; there were tears in her voice. " He 
 talked of Egypt ; that is a long way " and then, 
 to Paula's amazment, she turned to the old servant. 
 " Is it not absurd, Laurent, for my husband to re- 
 turn when he has always hated all the De St. 
 Pierres, and his uncle in particular ? Haven't you 
 often heard him say that he hated his uncle ? " 
 
 " Perhaps Madame la Comtesse has forgotten," 
 answered Laurent reflectively and with quiet re- 
 spectfulness, " that the Jury d'Orleans sits next 
 week, and that Monsieur wished to assist." 
 
 " That, too, is such imbecility," broke in Madame 
 de St. Pierre. " These politics are ruinous. But, no, 
 he had given that up ; he had promised not to re- 
 turn for a month." 
 
 " I think Madame la Comtesse is mistaken," 
 said Laurent, still in the same respectful key. " I 
 think it must be for the jury ; Monsieur le Comte was 
 bent upon it. I do not think, Madame la Comtesse, 
 that he ever gave it up," and he backed out of the 
 room. 
 
 " You must make up your mind to be very 
 much pleased," said Madame de Fougeres suavely, 
 " and go and meet your husband to-morrow morn- 
 ing. It must be conceded, however," she con-
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 293 
 
 tinned, turning to her hostess, " that Jacques de- 
 tested his uncle, and God knows the uncle was 
 detestable. Never was a bad word said at the 
 table down at the chateau that it was not that 
 animal who said it." 
 
 " He was horrible ! " said Madame de St. Pierre ; 
 " yet I have done everything ; I have put on mourn- 
 ing. Now Jacques will arrive and insist that I can 
 not go to the opera. I intended sitting in the back 
 of the loge to-night in black tulle and diamonds, 
 of course," she added, as if this respect to the 
 defunct's memory was a work of supererogation. 
 
 " I'll see that no one interferes with you," said 
 Madame de Fougeres, with another gleam which 
 shivered through Paula a sense that she would not 
 care to encounter this lady's opposition, and which 
 made her feel a sudden sympathy for the impend- 
 ing son-in-law. 
 
 " He made a good end, did he not ? " asked the 
 Duchess. 
 
 " Yes, a beautiful end, which was a consolation 
 to his son," said Madame de Fougeres cheerfully. 
 
 It was evidently this lady's opinion that some 
 deaths were eminently desirable. 
 
 " He had everything that religion could do for 
 him," said Madame de St. Pierre. " I attended to 
 that. It was most necessary. And Mademoiselle 
 Patte Blanche's jewels, which she had returned to
 
 294 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 him at her death he was in a terrible state then 
 don't you remember, mamma ? He desired to throw 
 himself out of the window; he was very much 
 attached to her all the jewels he had given her 
 will now be sold for the poor." 
 
 " You will now have to marry your cousin to 
 somebody," said the Duchess, " and here are some 
 lovely American ladies to recommend an heiress to 
 us, for, if I am not mistaken, De St. Pierre leaves 
 his son very little." 
 
 " I would undertake Louis's wife socially, mes- 
 dames," said Madame de St. Pierre, turning very 
 seriously to Mrs. Heathcote and Paula ; " if she is 
 pretty I'll take her into the world. But you are 
 all beautiful," she added politely, " and it will only 
 be a question of the dot." 
 
 " Our girls are peculiar," said Mrs. Heathcote, 
 smiling. " They propose to be adored." 
 
 " Well, why not ? " said the Duchess. " Are they 
 not adorable ? That is as it should be. Come, ma 
 fille, suggest some charming compatriot of yours 
 for young Louis de St. Pierre. He has a fine name. 
 He has committed a few follies, but nothing dis- 
 honoring. I know the lad well. He is handsome, 
 brave. What more could any one desire ? " 
 
 " American girls have a tradition, learned from 
 their mothers, that they must fall in love," said 
 Mrs. Heathcote, now laughing.
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 295 
 
 " Very well," said Madame de St. Pierre, ready 
 for concession, and accepting the fact that the 
 American point of view must be somewhat upset- 
 ting, " we'll see that she loves him, if that also is 
 so important." 
 
 " It is imperative," said Mrs. Heathcote, still 
 laughing. 
 
 " Et Men, why shouldn't she ? He has a great 
 deal in his favor. He's not a beggar either; he 
 has something," said Madame de Fougeres." Of 
 course he hasn't millions, like all of you, but 
 my daughter would see that she was well placed. 
 I understand your young ladies like a good posi- 
 tion." 
 
 " Everybody likes a good position," said the 
 Duchess. 
 
 " I am sure now, Anne, it amuses you to be 
 a Duchess," said Madame de Fougeres. 
 
 " Why, of course," said Madame de Portes, 
 smiling, " only I am so accustomed to it ! " 
 
 " We must certainly find some one for Monsieur 
 de St. Pierre," said Mrs. Heathcote to Paula, with 
 a significant glance of amusement. 
 
 " It will walk alone if you help us," said the 
 Duchess, " but it must be insisted upon that their 
 children are brought up Catholics." 
 
 And now, at last, she turned to Paula : " Would 
 you like to see my house ? I am not yet accustomed
 
 296 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 to that," she said, "and it pleases me to show it 
 to my friends. I have not been here very long." 
 
 " Everything looks as if it had been here always," 
 said Paula. 
 
 " That pleases me, too. But all these things, or 
 at least many of them came from my old hotel 
 across the Seine. " Allans ! " she said, leading the 
 way, "and first you shall see my dearest posses- 
 sions." 
 
 She crossed the long drawing-room, and, lifting 
 a curtain, entered the dining or banqueting room, at 
 one end of which at a small table some children 
 were having a repast of milk and fruit. This 
 apartment was so large that they did not hear 
 their mother's step. She raised to her lips a little 
 jeweled whistle and sent its shrill call to where 
 they sat. The governess, who was superintending 
 this light meal, stood up, and the four children, two 
 boys and two girls, darted instantly forward, run- 
 ning to meet their mamma. The boys kissed her 
 hand and the girls stood on tiptoe while she touched 
 her lips to their foreheads. 
 
 " Madame Norvoude, my children," she said 
 with a look of pride. The boys bowed gallantly 
 over Paula's gloved hand, and stooping -kissed the 
 ends of her fingers. But the little girls offered her 
 their cheeks. 
 
 Paula thought the children pretty, especially the
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 297 
 
 eldest, the young duke. They were dressed with 
 great care, the girls in light-blue poplins trimmed 
 with white embroideries, the boys in a sort of 
 picturesque compromise between the English and 
 French modes. They wore velvet jackets, wide 
 collars, and knickerbockers. The young duke had 
 lovely dark curling hair and an interesting face. 
 
 "That is enough now. Return to Mees Smeet, 
 my little ones," said the Duchess. 
 
 She had a high, authoritative voice as of one 
 accustomed to command obedience. 
 
 " Can we see the oratory ? " asked Mrs. Heath- 
 cote. " Say something nice about the oratory," she 
 whispered to Paula. " That will delight her. She's 
 very devout. They consider her a saint here." 
 
 The stout little saint led the way down a rather 
 obscure passage and herself pushed through a slid- 
 ing door. The three ladies entered the sacred pre- 
 cincts of a private chapel. It was dark and cold. 
 An odor pervaded it as of faded roses. The gray 
 Parisian day shone faintly through the stained- 
 glass windows and threw prismatic hues athwart 
 the altar. A man was kneeling at its step. He 
 rose and moved down the short aisle. It was a 
 priest. 
 
 " Monsieur 1' Abbe ! don't let us derange you," 
 said the Duchess, " don't let us intrude upon your 
 devotions."
 
 298 A PUEITAN PAGAN. 
 
 He was young, tall, and hideously ugly. His 
 skin had that peculiar drawn look of being too 
 tight to hold him, engendered by the habit of fast- 
 ing and gorging in turn. Probably the Duchess's 
 table furnished ample apportunity for occasional 
 indulgence. The young abbe bowed to the ladies 
 without speaking and withdrew, vanishing from the 
 sanctuary by a narrow side entrance. 
 
 The beauty of this still retreat at the heart of a 
 turbulent city and of a great house whose legends 
 dedicated it to the world, brought to Paula a whiff 
 of the romance of foreign life. 
 
 " Why don't you try and bring me over to 
 your religion, madame ? " she said to the Duchess. 
 " This oratory is so beautiful that I am half con- 
 verted already." 
 
 For the first time Madame De Portes looked in- 
 tently at Paula, scanning her narrowly from head to 
 foot. 
 
 " Nothing can be more simple. You would 
 only have to instruct yourself," she replied gravely. 
 
 " I should have to put myself into your hands, 
 madame." 
 
 Mrs. Heathcote had given the Duchess a faint 
 outline of Paula's story. The fact that she had not 
 been divorced commended her to this lady's favor. 
 
 " Religion is a great consolation. I find no 
 other. There is really nothing else," said the Duch-
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 299 
 
 ess, crossing herself, and offering holy water to the 
 Marquise De Fougeres, who had followed them. 
 
 From the oratory they adjourned to the Duch- 
 ess's bedroom. It seemed almost shabby to Paula, 
 as compared to those of elegant women at home. 
 Madame de Fortes would probably have considered 
 these cocotte, that terror of the Parisian great lady. 
 In America, where this class is less aggressive, the 
 fear is not pronounced. 
 
 The bed was draped with gray satin, as were 
 also the walls. The white-lace toilet table was not 
 overfresh. The principal ornament in the room 
 was a large ivory Christ, livid and sad, upon his 
 ebony cross, which hung over the Duchess's prie- 
 dieu. The lady's little boots lay on the floor ; 
 Paula and Mrs. Heathcote raised their skirts to step 
 over them. Her discarded bonnet and mantle had 
 been hastily thrown across a chair. The fire had 
 gone out and the room was a trifle cold, and not re- 
 markable either for its order or its luxury. The 
 childrens' quarter proved to be even more unpre- 
 tending. Their little iron bedsteads were covered 
 with dark -chintz quilts. The walls were decorated 
 by a few religious pictures. Christs with pierced 
 hearts and blessed Virgins with bleeding bosoms 
 and uplifted eyes. The bath rooms, which adjoined 
 these apartments, seemed appallingly poor, dingy, 
 and contracted to American eyes.
 
 300 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 When they emerged once more upon the broad 
 staircase the Duchess turned to Mrs. Heathcote. 
 
 " Will you dine with me to-morrow ? " she said, 
 " you and madame ? " 
 
 " I am very sorry ; I am dining the corps to- 
 morrow," said Mrs. Heathcote. 
 
 " I hope you can come," addressing Paula. " I 
 should be so much pleased. It will be so good for 
 the children to speak English," she added. 
 
 " Thanks," said Paula a little haughtily. " I, 
 also, am engaged." 
 
 " Will you not come to me on Sunday, then ? " 
 said the Duchess, like a person unaccustomed to be 
 refused. 
 
 A second denial rose to Paula's lips, but Mrs. 
 Heathcote pulled her sleeve. " Accept," she, said, 
 but Paula still demurred. 
 
 "Why do you not desire to dine with me?" 
 asked Madame de Portes, with a surprised inflection. 
 
 Then Mrs. Heathcote whispered to her laugh- 
 ingly, " She's very proud, very sensitive. She re- 
 quires most amiable urging." 
 
 " Oh, dear me ! " said the Duchess. 
 
 It was finally arranged, however, that Paula 
 should dine, and that the Heathcotes should come 
 in the evening. 
 
 As they were taking their leave they met a 
 crowd of children and nurses.
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 301 
 
 " Ah ! " said the Duchess, " here's our little 
 class. Come in and see them before you go, and 
 she led the way across the hall into a large dancing 
 room where the master was beginning to assume po- 
 sitions and the fiddlers to tune their instruments. 
 As a waltz struck up the Duchess threw one arm 
 about Paula's waist, and off they spun together 
 round and round the room, in and out among the 
 little dancers. When they stopped 
 
 " You waltz charmingly," said the Duchess, smil- 
 ing at her. 
 
 " I wonder," thought Paula, into whose cheeks 
 the exercise had brought a deep-pink flush, " I won- 
 der if I am a dreadful snob to be rather pleased." 
 
 Thus mollified she did go to the Sunday dinner. 
 
 " It's something to see. It's more of that educa- 
 tion I am always preaching to you," Mrs. Heathcote 
 said to her, " and Reginald and I will drop in after 
 dinner." 
 
 Paula was somewhat intimidated of course, be- 
 cause she knew that every word and every gesture of 
 hers would be criticised. It was an ordeal to face, 
 but she was too well bred to be ever really ill at 
 ease, and then what sustaining composure the assur- 
 ances of being properly dressed can give even a shy 
 young woman ! Worth had done wonders this 
 time, and in faint gray satin and violets Paula's 
 dreaded entree was not without success. The
 
 302 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 Duchess herself was now magnificent, resplendent 
 with jewels and admirably coiffed. The dinner was 
 a small one of only eighteen guests, all people of 
 title ; but, in point of beauty and youth, Paula car- 
 ried off the palm. 
 
 Madame de Freysne, to be sure, the American 
 wife of the Duchess's friend, looked young. She 
 was a pale, slight creature, not pretty and extremely 
 silent. Paula did not make her acquaintance until 
 after the dinner. 
 
 The Duchess received Mrs. Norwood kindly, 
 presenting several men and women to her. The 
 children were in the drawing-room before the din- 
 ner was announced, the abbe in his quaint dress sit- 
 ting under a palm tree with his boys, and Miss 
 Smith, the English governess, keeping the little 
 girls close to her skirts. But when the procession 
 was formed for the banquet only the young duke 
 remained. To Paula's surprise he stepped forward 
 after a moment's whispered colloquy with his 
 mamma, and offered his arm to her. He sat oppo- 
 site to his mother, so that she found herself led to 
 the seat of honor. On her right sat Monsieur de 
 Freysne. This gentleman announced to Paula im- 
 mediately the fact of his American alliance, telling 
 her she must show her perception of nationality 
 by picking out his wife at once. Paula did so un- 
 hesitatingly, recognizing the type. But Madame
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 303 
 
 de Freysne had not the proverbial loveliness and 
 vivacity of American women. She seemed ab- 
 stracted, monosyllabic. De Freysne, however, talked 
 enough for two. Mrs. Heathcote had told Paula 
 that his wife was a Western girl of large for- 
 tune. She had not met her, but the French people 
 had told her that she was uninteresting and dull, 
 and not supposed to be over happy with a hus- 
 band who was enjoying her fortune, but somewhat 
 neglectful of herself. 
 
 Whatever unfriendly criticisms Paula might 
 have feared, she found herself at once enveloped in 
 an atmosphere of such refinement, civilization, and 
 courtesy, that her alarm took instant flight. The 
 little duke who was polite and gallant spoke 
 English fluently, and was an attractive boy, while 
 De Freysne, if an undesirable companion for life, 
 had been endowed by nature with the graces which 
 make an agreeable neighbor for a dinner or a cotill- 
 ion. The conversation, which was often general, 
 seemed to Paula peculiarly brilliant. In fact, she 
 had never listened to just such talk. The men left 
 the burden of it principally to the women, only giv- 
 ing it an occasional impetus when it threatened to 
 languish. They listened attentively and with re- 
 spect to the easy flow of the ladies' eloquence. 
 Paula noticed that they neither approached these 
 women individually with too absorbed or too en-
 
 304: A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 grossing attention, or felt obliged to feign a rude 
 indifference. In fact, she was soon impressed with 
 the idea that they did not feel called upon to feign 
 . . . anything. They were there to extract such 
 amusement as they might, and, above all, to amuse 
 in their turn. Under this aspect society becomes a 
 fine art. The flow of words, animated, at moments 
 even eager, was never ponderous. Nothing was 
 dwelt upon at any length. Subjects were bowled 
 back and forth, played with, rolled over a minute, 
 and then dismissed. Paula felt never an instant's 
 fatigue, and, remembering how often she had 
 yawned through dinner parties at home, said to her- 
 self, " Our men have not this talent." 
 
 Among other topics that of the degree of free- 
 dom with which men and women could afford to 
 disregard convention and shock prejudice was dis- 
 cussed. Some of the men asserted that given a past 
 record of propriety there were women who could 
 risk everything, emancipate themselves, where 
 others would at once be swamped. The women, 
 particularly the Duchess, took the other ground. 
 A reputation, they insisted, intact to-day could be 
 jeopardized, nay lost, to-morrow. 
 
 " What in the name of Heaven could you 
 do," cried De Freysne across the table, " chere 
 madame, that could ever possibly imperil your 
 position or your name ? You do a thing, then
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 305 
 
 at once it becomes as it should be. It is cor- 
 rect." 
 
 " You are ridiculous," said the Duchess. Never- 
 theless, Paula thought she looked flattered. 
 
 " Oh, madame is an icicle," said a mustached and 
 decorated gentleman. " You are safe in predicting 
 that she will not shock the proprieties." 
 
 " Yes, yes, you are an icicle," echoed the 
 women. 
 
 " Madame does not look cold," ventured Paula. 
 
 " Ah ! do you see, do you hear ! That jolie 
 femine who comes to my rescue ! " cried the 
 Duchess shrilly, " and pray, Madame Norvoude, tell 
 these detractors how you judge me not of ice ? " 
 
 "Your face is not a cold one," said Paula. 
 " On the contrary, it is quite the opposite." 
 
 The Duchess's wide mouth, which was, in fact, 
 not a cold one, was instantly stretched into a broad 
 smile. She put up her lorgnon and nodded at 
 Paula two or three times across the roses which 
 separated them. 
 
 " You are right. You have divined me ; you 
 have read me better than these older friends. Vive 
 les Amercaines ! " she said, laughing. " They have 
 intelligence." 
 
 The abbe, who had been quiet, now whispered 
 something to the ambient air, which the Duchess 
 caught on the rebound.
 
 306 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 " Lable admires your fan, Madame Norvoude. 
 May we look at it?" 
 
 Paula felt pleased to say, " It was made in New 
 York," as it passed round the table. " Fancy that 
 fascinatingly ugly priest spying out my Tiffany 
 fan ! " she thought. " How delicious ! He will be 
 exchanging a hair from some martyr's head for an 
 American rocking-chair, as a dusty old priest did in 
 Florence the other day." 
 
 " I did not know you made such pretty things 
 in New York," said the Duchess. 
 
 " New York will soon be the center of the 
 world," said De Freysne. 
 
 " Ah ! " said the Duchess vaguely and without 
 enthusiasm, " everything is possible." 
 
 When they adjourned to the drawing-room 
 Paula instinctively sought the side of Madame de 
 Freysne, to whom she asked to be presented. This 
 lady, who looked distinctly bored, greeted her with 
 cordiality. " I am sure I am glad to see an Ameri- 
 can," she said. 
 
 " I supposed you met more of them than you 
 cared about," said Paula, smiling. 
 
 " No, I don't. I go almost entirely in this set. 
 My husband and his mother wish it, and anything 
 stupider I'd like to imagine. You're the first Amer- 
 ican, except Mrs. Heathcote, I ever met in this 
 clique."
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 307 
 
 " It seems to me very delightful." 
 
 " I guess you wouldn't think so, then, if you'd 
 married into it." 
 
 Paula could not help laughing. She did not 
 find Madame de Freysne exactly dull. 
 
 " Don't you like Paris ? " 
 
 " I hate it ! and," added this transplanted 
 daughter of an alien soil, " I hate everybody in it." 
 
 Paula began to feel sorry for her. She vent- 
 ured something about the sights, the wonders, the 
 pictures, the churches, the Louvre. " Did not Ma- 
 dame de Freysne enjoy these ? " 
 
 " No, I don't," said the young countess ; " when 
 I was first married I had a surfeit. My husband 
 dragged me everywhere. I like just to whisk 
 through those places, but he goes so slowly, I 
 don't see the sense if a person isn't lame ; I hate 
 flattening my nose against every old daub. Those 
 silly old saints, all forehead and feet, make me just 
 sick." Paula listened and she went on : 
 
 " I am like a prisoner here. My mother-in- 
 law's a regular hyena, who's always looking after 
 my tenue, as she calls it. She'd better be look- 
 ing after her own daughters, for intrigue is their 
 meat and drink. They swim in lies ; they love 
 them ; they could not tell the truth to save them- 
 selves from hanging. She abuses my country people 
 from morning till night. It makes me ill."
 
 308 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 " I do think that is unkind of her," said Paula 
 sympathetically. 
 
 " Unkind ! That's a mild way of putting it. 
 I've been a goose ! When I came here I was en- 
 gaged to a very nice young man. He was super- 
 intendent of the G. G. P. L. & D. E. K. don't you 
 know that road ? "Well, if I'd stayed quiet he'd have 
 been president by this time and I guess I'd have 
 been boss in that establishment. But, no ... I 
 broke with him ... I was mean. I've paid for it. 
 I thought it was so fine to be a countess, but, I can 
 tell you what, it don't amount to a row of pins." 
 
 "No?" said Paula. 
 
 " No, it don't. They think I'm stupid because 
 I hold my tongue, but when I do speak, and I shall 
 soon, I guess there'll be a breeze. I'll make things 
 hot for them. I'll make the welkin ring! The 
 worst of it is I've changed my religion too. They 
 got me baptized. Oh, I've been a big fool ! They 
 caught me pretty fast. I guess my mother-in-law's 
 all the hair shirt I'll ever have to wear for penance. 
 She's worse than the malaria, but I'm just biding 
 my time ! I've got a plan." 
 
 Paula shrank somewhat from the development 
 of the plan, and tried to turn the subject, but 
 Madame de Freysne was not to be bluffed. 
 
 " They are just as bad, just' as corrupt as they 
 can be," she said. " They're not worth two sous, the
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 3Q9 
 
 whole of them boiled in a pot. But if you move 
 your hand they roll up their eyes and wag their old 
 wigs at you as if you had committed the unpardon- 
 able sin." 
 
 " I suppose there is less liberty," said Paula. 
 
 "Liberty! Well, I smile. Why, they don't 
 know what it means ! They're about as wide as 
 that " she portioned off the tip end of her little- 
 finger nail " nagging you all day about nothing at 
 all, and such dirty ideas, too, about everything! 
 Where I was raised there was some respect for 
 women." 
 
 Paula was aghast. 
 
 " Where's your husband ? " asked Madame de 
 Freysne abruptly. 
 
 Not caring to enter into explanations, Paula 
 said, " In America." 
 
 " Is he young ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Well, mine's old; ever so much older than I 
 am." 
 
 " Why, he does not look old," said Paula. 
 
 " He's made up." 
 
 " I can't believe it." 
 
 " I've seen him do it," said this dutiful wife, 
 " and I guess he drinks more than he eats more 
 absinthe, I mean." 
 
 Paula was beginning to think it not at all aston-
 
 310 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 ishing that the Europeans considered American 
 girls vulgar, yet she was interested in spite of 
 herself in this genuine and extraordinary speci- 
 men. 
 
 " You must be very unhappy." 
 
 " Oh, it won't last much longer ! I'll write to 
 pa when I get ready. I'm just holding out to watch 
 a little game that's being played a little game they 
 think I haven't seen. But I've seen . . . every- 
 thing." 
 
 Paula faintly murmured that she had no doubt 
 of it. 
 
 " Has she shown you the . . . oratory yet ? " she 
 asked, designating the Duchess with a contemptuous 
 movement of her feather fan. 
 
 " Yes," said Paula. " It was beautiful." 
 
 " Oh, yes," said Madame de Freysne meaningly. 
 " It's all beautiful. She's very . . . pious. A 
 mighty bad Christian, but a good Catholic. Thank 
 the Lord on your knees that you've married an 
 American ; they're the only pure men in the world. 
 Don't you think so?" 
 
 Paula winced. " I don't know anything about 
 men," she said. 
 
 " Well, I do, then ; everything about them. 
 And I can tell you I've found out things that would 
 just make every innocent hair on your head stand 
 up on its roots. It's perfectly awful. Just live in
 
 A PUKITAN PAGAN. 311 
 
 this pious atmosphere for a month and you'll be 
 * instructed.' " 
 
 Paula fidgeted in her chair, desiring escape. 
 The Duchess came to the rescue. 
 
 " What are you two plotting ? " she asked gayly. 
 
 " I was saying to Mrs. Norwood," answered 
 Madame de Freysne, looking up with a slight snort 
 from a belligerent nostril, "that American men 
 were truer, more honest, purer, than Frenchmen." 
 
 For all answer the Duchess stared at her blankly 
 for a moment, and turning to Paula, " Come," 
 she said, " I want to show you a new vase I 
 bought yesterday. Est elle assomante avec ses 
 hommes piires" she murmured, putting her hand 
 through Paula's arm and propelling her into the 
 next room. " Poor De Freysne," she added, " she 
 is so bete, and not even pretty. But what will you 
 have ? He had so many debts ; it had to be. I 
 came now to release you, but he, alas ! can not be 
 released." 
 
 She showed Paula the new vase with much sat- 
 isfaction. 
 
 " I bought it," said the Duchess, " at the Bon 
 Marche. That will make you laugh. I had been 
 there the first morning you called here. They sent 
 me word it was an occasion, and I just drove round. 
 It was very cheap. You American ladies have such 
 a mania for throwing money out of the window.
 
 312 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 You do not appreciate what pleasure we take in a 
 bargain." 
 
 Then they returned to the large drawing-room. 
 Evening guests were beginning to arrive. 
 
 " Monsieur le Prince de Montreuil ! " announced 
 the servant. 
 
 Paula looked up. Their eyes met.
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 HAVING bowed low to the Duchess, he was de- 
 tained near the door for a moment by a group. 
 "With a quick movement, he had soon eluded them 
 to reach Paula's side. A flush of genuine pleasure 
 illumined for a moment his melancholy face, mak- 
 ing it almost handsome. 
 
 " I find you again ! Is it possible ! " he said. 
 
 They shook hands. 
 
 " Yes," said Paula, " the sea we used to gaze at 
 together in the twilights at East Brompton has 
 brought me to your delightful country." 
 
 " I wrote from Japan," said De Montreuil. 
 " Receiving no answer, I concluded you did not de- 
 sire me to repeat the experiment." 
 
 " I did not receive your letter," said Paula. 
 " Only a note of farewell the day after you left us." 
 
 " Ah ! Would that I had known it ! But how 
 beautiful you are grown I The same small, classic 
 head and wonderful eyes, and there is something 
 else that you have gained. You always seemed to
 
 314 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 me as alluring as your beloved sea. I have some- 
 times wondered, when thinking of you, if you were 
 as treacherous." 
 
 " My worst enemy," said Paula, smiling, " has 
 never accused me of treachery. I am too blunt, too 
 honest." 
 
 " I will believe you," said De Montreuil, with 
 the eyes of a man ready to die for love. " Ah ! all 
 I have suffered since ! I have thought of you so 
 often, so often ! Have you ever remembered me ? " 
 
 Under the old influence of fascination which he 
 had once for three days exerted over her, and in 
 which his personality had again immediately envel- 
 oped her, it would have been difficult to tell him 
 that she had not. With the boast of her honesty 
 still upon her lips I must sadly own that Paula as- 
 sured him, rather faintly, it must be admitted, that 
 she had not " forgotten him." 
 
 " You look so fresh and I so world-worn," said 
 De Montreuil, " I feel as if I had no right to enter 
 again into your pure presence." 
 
 " Why do you say that to me ? What terrible 
 things have you done ? " 
 
 " Would it hurt you if I should have done terri- 
 ble things?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Then it is not true." 
 
 " Oh ! can you say no more ? "
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 315 
 
 " Yes, I can say that I was badly brought up ; 
 that I had no chance. That if I had met such 
 women as you are 1 should have been a better 
 man, but that I have tried to be a gentleman, 
 and . . . since I knew you ... all for a mem- 
 ory." 
 
 Paula felt as if she was going to cry. She re- 
 membered this peculiar effect De Montreuil had ex- 
 erted upon her before. It was at once painful and 
 pleasant. At any rate, it was unique. This man 
 was not commonplace. 
 
 He remained at her side to the evening's end. 
 It seemed at once short and long to her, like the 
 Biblical " thousand years." They looked at each 
 other a great deal long regards that sunk into un- 
 knowable abysses. Paula had been amused at the 
 fleathcotes' dance, but told herself that the Duch- 
 ess's entertainment had been otherwise interesting. 
 It had touched her imagination. 
 
 " So De Montreuil is in the toils again ? " said 
 Mrs. Heathcote to her the next day. " Be very 
 careful." 
 
 " Why do you always warn me against that 
 man ? " Paula spoke a little impatiently. 
 
 " Because he is not one of the ' nice fellows ' 
 who never do women any mischief. De Montreuil 
 might be a danger, and particularly so to you. I 
 prefer Tad for you."
 
 316 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 " Thanks ! But do you really know anything 
 against him ? You are unfair." 
 
 " Oh, nothing in particular," said the Princess 
 in a disengaged voice. 
 
 They fell to speaking of Madame De Freysne. 
 
 " How could a little wild girl from one of our 
 Western towns be in touch with these people ? It 
 is an absurd marriage ! What you tell me opens 
 my eyes to the situation. I did hear his mother 
 was something of a dragon, who roped the child in 
 to repair the De Freysne fallen fortunes. You 
 ought to hear Reginald on the subject of these 
 transatlantic marriages ! He waxes eloquent. Like 
 all men who have given little time to the science of 
 love, he is full of romantic theories ; thinks all this 
 an abomination of desolation ; wants to interfere 
 to kill somebody. Probably he is right. Simple 
 natures are apt to be where intricate ones flounder. 
 My province in life being to pick up wrecks and 
 patch them up again, I wonder if there is anything 
 I could do to mend the De Freysne menage ! " 
 
 " I don't know. She evidently suspects the 
 Duchess of all sorts of terrible things." 
 
 " That is foolish. The Duchess is a good 
 woman, and at bottom sincere. She has one weak- 
 ness vanity. De Freysne flatters her, and she likes 
 him for it. But I am positive there is nothing. 
 Naturally the little countess and his family scandal-
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 317 
 
 ize each other. The people here talk so one fancies 
 at first they are all perverted corrupt to the core. 
 But they are better than their talk, and one learns 
 to unravel and understand. I think this poor child 
 could make something out of her life. De Freysne 
 is not half a bad fellow. I am certain he is never 
 harsh or unkind ; only a bit neglectful and thought- 
 less." 
 
 " Isn't that unkind ? " 
 
 " There are worse things to bear." 
 
 " For instance ? " 
 
 "Undue claims upon one's tenderness," said 
 Mrs. Heathcote, laughing. Then she added more 
 seriously, " I will make her acquaintance and give 
 her some advice." 
 
 " You will think her execrably vulgar." 
 
 " Oh, I sha'n't mind that. I rather like friction 
 with all manner of people. I was really made for 
 this life, although I sometimes have a qualm and 
 rebel, as at your Connecticut people, for instance, 
 who have all the vulgarity without the picturesque- 
 ness of being Western and unhappily wedded." 
 
 "Have they called?" 
 
 " Oh, yes ; and the Doctor, too. I sent Yernon 
 round " (Yernon was the first secretary) " with our 
 cards. They'll all come to my Saturday crush, no 
 doubt." 
 
 " I dare say, darling Mrs. Heathcote, you could
 
 318 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 help our unfortunate Western countess with your 
 tender wisdom." 
 
 " We shall see." 
 
 " How freely they speak here before their serv- 
 ants!" 
 
 u Yes, I saw your amazement at Madame de St. 
 Pierre, and it's often very funny. That was an old 
 family servant from whom they have no secrets. 
 French servants rarely presume, except, indeed, 
 after they have passed a few years in the United 
 States, which seems to make everybody bump- 
 tious." 
 
 " Does Mr. Heathcote like being here ? " 
 
 " Yes ; it's a rest to him in a way, and the politi- 
 cal situation interests him. He's studying the re- 
 public, and its chances for futurity. He thinks they 
 ought all to stop barking, or else to fight. France's 
 present position is untenable. Either let her bury 
 bitterness, which dares nothing and is only pitiable, 
 accept a treaty frankly, which politically and com- 
 mercially is the wiser course, or else take up 
 arms." 
 
 " Would not England have been more congenial 
 to him?" 
 
 " Reginald has a deep-rooted prejudice against 
 the Briton. A very small thing turned his senti- 
 ments, which had been friendly before." 
 
 "What was that?"
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 319 
 
 " When a young fellow he ran over to London 
 during our civil war for a few days' furlough. He 
 had been wounded, and his physician advised this 
 voyage he volunteered, you know, when a mere 
 boy. In London he was put up at a smart club, and 
 it was there he first heard of Lincoln's assassination. 
 He read the announcement in a bulletin pinned up 
 on a door. It was an awful shock; he felt very 
 strongly ; he broke down completely. Some incred- 
 ible creature had written up under the word of death 
 with a humor which failed to appeal to Reginald 
 on this occasion ' Yes, dead, and gone to hell, 
 damn him ! ' Reginald was so furious he wanted 
 to wipe out those words in blood, but the culprit 
 could not be found, although this evidence of his 
 good taste was left there for several days. They 
 burned into his soldier's heart, but they only laughed 
 at him. He has never forgiven." 
 
 " Do you call that a little tiling? " 
 
 " Oh, what is one man's vileness ! " 
 
 " I believe they all gloated over Lincoln's death," 
 said Paula, crimson with emotion. 
 
 "'Not all, little Paula." 
 
 " Oh, calm one, you are too wise. You frighten 
 me!" 
 
 " Such wisdom as I have, Paula," said the 
 Princess, and the old sorrowful shadow fell on her 
 fair face, " has been won at too great a cost. Be-
 
 320 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 lieve me, dear, I sometimes pause from bragging of 
 my victories to ponder over my defeats. They 
 have been serious ones, but I never speak of 
 them." 
 
 If the Connecticut girls liked Paris and its 
 shops, Paula, who was only a spasmodic shopper 
 at best, and whom the deceitfulness of a foreign 
 coin had led into what her aunt called a satur- 
 nalia of extravagance, had now plenty of leisure 
 for other diversions. Like all women who have 
 lived much alone, she had formed habits of soli- 
 tude, and she enjoyed escaping fromMrs. Sorchan's 
 affectionate watchfulness to wander in the more 
 retired parts of Paris, to loiter in its art galleries 
 (which she studied ardently), or kneel in its dark 
 churches. She was even unfashionable enough to 
 stop sometimes under the old trees of the Tuil- 
 eries gardens and listen to the band discoursing its 
 sweet music for the benefit of the children who 
 played underneath them. She loved the shrill cries 
 of the venders ; the gamins playing in the gutter ; 
 the never-failing flirtation of the soldier and the 
 bonne at the street corner ; the priest passing swift- 
 ly on some errand of mercy, muttering his brevi- 
 ary ; the school-boy in blouse and cap piloted by his 
 nurse across the crowded thoroughfares with eyes 
 filled with a desire for an escape which the free-born 
 American lad would have effected, without demur
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 321 
 
 or parley, with, a snap of his finger and a whistle of 
 contempt. The world of the streets never wearies 
 because it never importunes ; and for Paula it was 
 a welcome contrast to the brilliant entertainments 
 at the legation and the drives to the races with 
 Madame de Fortes in her elegant equipages. 
 
 This lady had adopted Paula at once into her 
 good graces. 
 
 If, by and by, sometimes de Montreuil ac- 
 companied her in these more familiar unconven- 
 tional rambles, where was the harm ? He was 
 such a flower of courtesy ! adroit, companion- 
 able, respectful ; his homage so full of grace and 
 tact. As they stepped off briskly together across 
 the gray asphalt, blanched by the sunshine, black- 
 ened by the showers, she felt as safe as with some 
 dear friend, lost for a moment and neglected, yet 
 found again with satisfaction and with pleasure. 
 With him a mischievousness foreign to Paula's 
 character seemed to awake in her. She liked to 
 tease and torment him, to bring into his sad eyes a 
 gleam of deprecation and of merriment. After she 
 met him the mood folded its wings and became a 
 visitation from a misty and uncertain past. Her 
 moral being, isolated and without anchorage, was 
 simply powerfully stirred by the fixed determina- 
 tion of another's will, a phenomenon not uncom- 
 mon to richly emotional natures. All strong char- 
 21
 
 322 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 acter is full of inconsistencies ; the balancement of 
 the deep. 
 
 Norwood's last letters had been returned, like 
 the first, unopened. They had now ceased to come. 
 Strangely it was not without a pang of resentment 
 that she realized he was accepting her stubborn fiat. 
 But Norwood was not accepting as she supposed he 
 was. He still wrote to her almost daily, only now he 
 put the letters into her desk unsent. " Some day," 
 he said, " she will read and know." Sometimes he 
 thought he would follow and force himself into her 
 presence, but the day for this was not yet here. 
 He dreaded any step whose failure would push him 
 yet farther from her than now. He could wait. 
 
 * One day De Montreuil sent Paula some splendid 
 red roses, and among their leaves was concealed this 
 song, which she thought very pretty, although she 
 did not take it too seriously : 
 
 Elle est la grace ! et quand 1'aurore, 
 
 Rallume le soleil eteint 
 
 Les roses prennent a son teint 
 
 Le doux eclat qui les colore, 
 
 Elle est le charme et quand sonore 
 
 La voix lente du flot lointain 
 
 Chante le re tour du matin 
 
 C'est sa voix que j'entends encore 
 
 Tresor joyeux ! tresor amer ! 
 
 Elle est 1'aurore 1 elle est la mer! 
 
 Elle est la grace ! elle est le charme 1 
 
 Seule elle apporte a mon amour 
 
 Dans un sourire tout le jour 
 
 Tout 1'ocean dans une larme I
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 353 
 
 She wore the flowers that night in her bosom at 
 a private concert and ball to which the Duchess 
 had insisted on conveying her. 
 
 They arrived late, and found the concert de sa- 
 lon in full blast. A passage, however, was made 
 for so important a personage as the Duchess, and 
 Paula followed in her wake. She aroused a con- 
 siderable interest among the gentlemen, who parted 
 into a double rank to let them pass. The ball room 
 had been cleared for the music ; it was & parterre of 
 splendidly dressed women with bare, very bare, 
 shoulders and hair generously besprinkled with 
 jewels. The men were relegated to its outer por- 
 tals. Absolute silence reigned during the perform- 
 ance, even a whisper being quickly frowned down. 
 After the artists, who were of the best, a few ama- 
 teurs were to be heard. A pretty young woman, a 
 Princess Somebody, sang a romance of which the 
 refrain was, " 0, mes leaux jours, adieu, adieu ! " 
 It was received with that discreet applause of 
 people of the world who avoid any undue enthusi- 
 asm as in bad taste. Then a dashing duchess of 
 the empire rose and warbled a ditty, at which the 
 men, and particularly the older ones, clapped their 
 hands loudly with exclamations of admiration. The 
 women, however, accorded her but a cold reception. 
 There were even one or two loud whispers that it 
 was inconvenant. She came off the platform with a
 
 324 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 defiant toss of the head, evidently pleased that she 
 should have given them food for gossip. Then 
 after a sentimental solo by a small, dark gentleman, 
 the concert came to a sudden termination. As if 
 by magic, the chairs vanished, carried away by 
 swift-footed, powdered footmen in red coats. The 
 people scattered, the waltzes tuned up, and the 
 dance began. 
 
 It was late when the Duchess and Paula sent 
 for their wraps, and there seemed to Paula much 
 unnecessary bustle and confusion in what in her own 
 country was so admirably managed. They waited an 
 endless time for their carriage, and Paula amused 
 herself watching her fellow-sufferers, whom De 
 Montreuil pointed out to her. There was a superb 
 English beauty, Lady Herbert, whose head and 
 shoulders rose far above those of the French ador- 
 ers by whom she was environed. She had a pair 
 of starlike, wicked eyes, and looked immensely dis- 
 gusted. Her absolute indifference seemed only to 
 augment the assiduities of her admirers, tremulous 
 with attentions and compliment, and with a frank 
 Gallic faith in their own powers. Paula turned 
 from her contemplation of the proud British belle 
 to watch with curiosity a couple who were standing 
 near her. 
 
 "Who is that beautiful, faded woman?" she 
 asked of De Montreuil.
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 325 
 
 " That is Madame de Passy." 
 
 " And the man ? " 
 
 " Geoifroy de Chartres, her lover." 
 
 They were talking in low tones together. The 
 woman possessed that burned-out, wan, feverish love- 
 liness the passions stamp upon the features. She 
 was very distinguished under her tiara of magnifi- 
 cent diamonds half hidden in her blonde tresses. 
 The man had a dissipated and disagreeable face. He 
 left her for a moment, and stopped at no very great 
 distance to press the hand and make some remark 
 to another woman, who looked up at him with a co- 
 quettish, challenging smile. Paula was struck with 
 the expression of dismay and anguish which crossed 
 Madame de Passy's face. She closed her eyes 
 suddenly, as if in a spasm of pain. In a moment 
 others had surrounded her. She turned to laugh 
 and talk with them, but Paula noticed the rigidity 
 and pallor of her lips. 
 
 " La voiture de Madame la Duchesse de Portes, 
 est avancee" roared the footman. In the carriage 
 the Duchess told her more of them. 
 
 " She is his slave. He uses her brutally, and 
 she accepts . . . everything." 
 
 " Has she a husband ? " 
 
 " Yes, and a perfect gentleman ; a good fellow, 
 too, but stupid like all the rest of them, in not see- 
 ing this. He's a man of honor. The day he is en-
 
 326 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 lightened he will challenge him and somebody will 
 have to die." 
 
 " I hated that De Chartres's face." 
 " You may well. He's a bad man. She is older 
 than he. He is tired of her, but she clings to him. 
 She loves him." 
 
 " I do not call that love. It is degradation." 
 
 " Call it what you like, such things exist, petite. 
 When a woman like that stoops to throw away all 
 the traditions of a great name and race and of an 
 austere bringing up the ruin is complete. She had 
 nobility in her. She has made that man he was 
 not her equal made him and lost herself. She was 
 the leader of everything in her world, but her pres- 
 tige is leaving her. His head is turned. He is try- 
 ing to throw her off now that she has served his 
 purpose. She procured for him a high official ap- 
 pointment, and made him at the same time a man 
 of fashion." 
 
 " Do you suppose he ever cared ? " 
 
 " Oh, in his way brutally. They wandered off 
 together at my hunt last year. That evil-tongued 
 
 Madame de Z was there. The scandal was 
 
 quite dreadful. I could never invite her again." 
 
 " Oh, I pity her ! " said Paula. 
 
 " Ah ! believe me, petite, all sin brings frightful 
 chastisement." 
 
 "Is love anything?"
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 327 
 
 " I don't know. I loved my husband ; we were 
 happy, and still I lost him. And the most terri- 
 ble thing is that I can live, laugh, and talk, and 
 even enjoy, now that the years have brought 
 calm. It is shocking that the heart is not more 
 constant. I had thought never to smile when I 
 laid him away forever," and the Duchess heaved 
 a deep sigh. 
 
 " It is horrible to cease to suffer as keenly," 
 said Paula. " Ah ! how I understand you. But 
 it is only lost for a moment. The old agony re- 
 turns." 
 
 After a few moments' reflection Madame de 
 Fortes turned and looked at Paula, whose pretty 
 head, rising above the sable collar of her opera 
 cloak, was just then thrown into relief by a gas 
 lamp in the street. 
 
 " Since nothing is irremediable, since the good 
 God has so willed it, Madame Norvoude, we ought 
 to ... forgive each other." 
 
 " Should one who has robbed us forever of hope 
 and of faith be forgiven ? " said Paula in a hardly 
 audible whisper. 
 
 " In healthy minds," said the Duchess decidedly, 
 " hope springs afresh, and even faith. K~o human 
 being can really rob us of them. Yes, they spring 
 again when we have thought them lost beyond re- 
 claim."
 
 328 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 "Could you trust one who had once deceived 
 you ? " 
 
 Paula fixed her deep eyes upon the Duchess, 
 stretching out one hand toward her with an almost 
 despairing gesture. Madame de Fortes took the 
 long, slender fingers for a moment into her fat, lit- 
 tle palm, and squeezed them kindly. 
 
 " Yes, perhaps," she said, and they drove home- 
 ward silently. 
 
 " Shall you see your husband, Sophie ? " asked 
 Paula of her maid, while the latter disrobed her in 
 the early hours of a damp dawn. 
 
 This husband was valet to a certain Mr. Del 
 Valle, a Spanish gentleman, who inhabited New 
 York, but was now traveling in Europe. 
 
 " No, madame, not until the spring. They were 
 going to Switzerland, but now they stay in England. 
 Adolphe is afraid of the conscription. He is better 
 pleased not to come to France." 
 
 " Do you love your husband, Sophie ? " 
 
 " TVe have a good friendship. I am content," 
 said the maid. 
 
 " But were you never in love, Sophie ? " 
 
 " Once, madame, when I was young. I loved a 
 man, but I was poor, and his parents would not 
 have me, so he gave me up." 
 
 " And then you married Adolphe ? "
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 329 
 
 " Yes ; he is good," said Sophie, after a pause. 
 " All men get tiresome in the end, madame. It is 
 all the same." 
 
 " How old are you, Sophie ? " 
 
 " I am thirty-one, madame, at Noel." 
 
 " You seem younger." 
 
 " My heart is young, madame. I like pleasure." 
 
 " Good-night," said Paula. 
 
 She lay on her bed with her arms clasped be- 
 hind her head, her hands among her heavy braids, 
 thinking, thinking, thinking.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 EIGHTEEN months later, one day Singleton Ack- 
 ley, Esq., was sipping his matitudinal coffee, clad in 
 a resplendent dressing gown, by the fire in his 
 study. Here his earliest meal was always brought 
 to him of a morning. Upon a silver tray lay dis- 
 posed his morning's mail. He glanced through the 
 pile of letters and papers, and recognized the Eu- 
 ropean postmark and Mrs. Heathcote's handwriting. 
 He extracted this missive from among the others, 
 placed it by the side of his toast, but finished his 
 coffee before opening it. 
 
 " Ah ! " he thought, not without a tinge of 
 sadness, " once how impatiently I would have torn 
 open that letter ! How my heart would have 
 throbbed to bursting! How wretched and how 
 happy I was then! and now . . . now . . . God 
 bless me . . . I'm getting old ! " 
 
 "We have nothing to do with any part of the let- 
 ter except its two last pages, which we will peruse 
 over Mr. Ackley's shoulder :
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 331 
 
 " I am not satisfied," wrote Mrs. Heathcote, 
 " about Paula, our dear, sweet Tragedy. I have al- 
 ways felt and my instincts, you say, are generally 
 unerring in these matters that she loved the man, 
 her husband, persistently, intensely, in spite of all. 
 Because of this I have admired her for her severity, 
 for having had the courage of the separation, if, in- 
 deed, the wrong inflicted was a great one, as I must 
 believe ; and yet, of course, had she not cared for 
 him forgiveness was easier. If Paula was not en- 
 tirely free from coquetry I should have no fears 
 coquetry is such a safeguard but she is serious 
 and passionate where others only amuse themselves. 
 And I may as well tell you at once that De Mon- 
 treuil is perfectly and absolutely devoted to her, 
 and what is more unfortunate, I believe him to be 
 sincere in fact, desperately in love with her. 
 Now you know and I know perfectly well that all 
 real sentiment in this world of shams is respectable 
 and impressive, even if it be from the wrong man 
 to the wrong woman, however a million hypocriti- 
 cal hands may be held up in holy dismay and hor- 
 ror at the assertion. De Montreuil's sentiments are 
 worth a great deal; at any rate to ... himself. 
 Now if they are not indifferent to Paula where will 
 the end be ? She would be more than human if she 
 didn't like it I mean the homage. Every woman 
 has liked it since time was, and you might as well
 
 332 A PURITAX PAGAN. 
 
 say that the earth does not move and must not. E 
 pur si muove. Then this sort of reverential, ten- 
 der, exalted thing he steeps her in, this adoration, is 
 so far more dangerous than a coarser pursuit. 
 
 "If it is he himself that she likes, not the senti- 
 ment she has inspired in him, nothing could be 
 more cruel for them both. Even if her own relig- 
 ious convictions sanctioned for her a legal separa- 
 tion and a remarriage and I think they do not all 
 of his people are rigorous Catholics of the Catholics. 
 She would be ostracized and trodden upon ; he 
 would be disinherited and discarded. Every Paris 
 salon would be closed in their faces, and only fancy 
 De Montreuil in America ! The thought is too 
 grotesque to be entertained. She can not drag him 
 home with her. Of course he's in that condition 
 when men do anything. He is bewildered, frantic ; 
 looks upon all obstacles as upon evil forces created 
 to rob and keep him from what he wants. What, 
 indeed, are honor, family, religion, above all, social 
 position things which you and I, in our narrow, 
 cold philosophy, feel to be extremely important, nay, 
 imperative but mean, paltry, contemptible trifles ! 
 All bosh, of course. We know the whole splendor 
 of it, do we not ? Ah, dear friend, for it is splen- 
 did, there is nothing like it ! The very first whiff 
 of it makes one half wild and young again ! 
 
 " Now to be serious. You wrote me you saw
 
 A PUEITAN PAGAN. 333 
 
 Mr. Norwood often ; knew him well now ; felt sure 
 he earnestly desired a reconciliation, but was afraid 
 of forcing things. Now there is no time to be lost, 
 none. Say what people will, this sort of incense 
 that she is getting is delicious. It goes right to a 
 woman's brain, it intoxicates. I don't like it for 
 Paula not a bit. You really must do something. 
 Stir Norwood to instant action. I dare say he's 
 stupid ; he seems to me awfully slow. Why in 
 God's name doesn't the man swim the Atlantic ? I 
 dare say he is a fool. A month ago I know that 
 she still loved him ; to-day . . ." 
 
 Mr. Ackley had been intending to sail for Liver- 
 pool two days later he was booked for the " Cepha- 
 lonia." He would have ample time, then, to see 
 Norwood before he departed. He thrust Mrs. 
 Heathcote's letter into his breast pocket, and it 
 was still there when he drove out that afternoon to 
 see his friend at the old Riverside house. He was 
 ushered into the long, yellow drawing-room, and 
 was intent examining a bit of fine Kaga ware 
 which stood upon the mantel-shelf when Norwood 
 entered the room. He was smoking a cigar, and 
 offered his visitor one. 
 
 " I hope," he said, " you have come to dine with 
 me. We can take a tramp together on the Heights, 
 and either stop at the Miramount," which was 
 the name of the restaurant a mile away up the
 
 334 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 bank, " or come back if you prefer. I'll give you 
 pot-luck here, and dare say it won't be too bad. I 
 sent in some fine salmon this morning. I had 
 work to do to-night, and shall not go into town." 
 
 " No, I won't dine, thank you. But I'll smoke 
 with you for a few minutes. I was just poking 
 about in my cart," said Mr. Ackley. 
 
 He managed soon to introduce the name of the 
 Heathcotes. " Mrs. Heathcote is a charming wom- 
 an," he said between puffs of smoke which he 
 watched floating upward, sitting with uplifted chin. 
 He had ensconced his rotundity in a deep chair, and 
 looked a picture of easy repose. 
 
 "A charming woman; the only one I know 
 who has triumphed over sex." 
 
 "You mean ..." Norwood knew of his 
 wife's intimacy with the Heathcotes and was on the 
 alert. 
 
 " That she has never permitted her sex to handi- 
 cap her in any way. Sex, my dear Norwood, has 
 paralyzed and lost to the world a full half of its 
 force, its will, and its intellect. But Mrs. Heath- 
 cote has grasped the meaning of woman's true 
 emancipation." 
 
 " Yet I have heard that she was intrinsically 
 womanly, although so clever," said Norwood, blow- 
 ing off some ashes from his meerschaum. 
 
 " Yes, she is feminine, and that means supple,
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 335 
 
 full of resource. First she has used her wit to 
 cultivate her physique so that she can join men in 
 all their pleasures. She has employed her brain 
 power, which is of no mean order, to make of her- 
 self a fascinating woman. A shrill-voiced Yankee 
 postmistress may be clever and well educated, but 
 who wants mental somersaults? Cleverness is all 
 very well, but what if it accomplishes nothing? 
 Mrs. Heathcote has been her husband's inspiration ; 
 she will be that of her sons. She has made a great 
 many men and undone a few. I am one of the 
 latter. She has undone me and made me all over 
 again a hundred times. True culture is the aristoc- 
 racy of behavior, eh Norwood? The "spirit of 
 conduct " of the French which whips us into shape 
 and prevents us from treading on other peoples' toes. 
 "Well, she's taught herself and others that lesson 
 perfectly, as a mere preliminary canter. She never 
 had any missiness, any false or mawkish prudery. 
 She dislikes pap, and she can refresh and sustain a 
 man with the strong tonic of her raillery or the 
 fresh palliative of her encouragement. When 
 women make of themselves such companions for 
 men who will oppose giving them the ballot? 
 Bless me ! I wish we had just such a one to-day 
 for President of the United States. But we <jan 
 not be ruled by puling invalids or hysteric, long- 
 nosed Boston old maids an aggressive and, I am
 
 336 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 told, rapidly increasing class who cackle like hens 
 over a new-laid egg every time they bring forth a 
 mild idea or two. There's a large contingent of that 
 kind going about, Norwood. "With all their vaunted 
 knowledge, they're a nuisance. Man's only safety 
 is to keep them out of sight, and himself at bay. 
 My fingers always itch to get about the neck of 
 one of these creatures and wring it, although I 
 feebly compromise by taking to my heels. Such is 
 the force of early habits of gallantry." 
 
 " You ought to make a speech in our next con- 
 vention, Ackley. You'd be a success," said Nor- 
 wood, the gleam of his fine teeth rejuvenating 
 him and making him again for the moment Paula's 
 lover, eating luscious pears at Mr. Sorchan's table 
 and discussing with him the insufficiency of the 
 Jewish Jehovah. But what ravages upon that 
 bronzed face since then ! 
 
 " Oh, I don't meddle with politics. No, sir ! 
 When they made a man like Jared D. Bill twice 
 Governor of our State I folded my pale hands so 
 meekly, and . . . practically died, if not poetically. 
 No, let them cut their own noses off a little longer 
 and drown the poor in bad whisky. Politically 
 my refrain is ' Oh, to be nothing, nothing ! ' I 
 always join in that hymn with enthusiasm." 
 
 " That is a weakness. A man like you ought 
 to come to the fore."
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 337 
 
 "A pretty figure I'd make on a platform 
 eh ! " 
 
 Norwood had 'to admit to himself that the 
 " boys " might " cut up " a trifle roughly if Single- 
 ton should suddenly loom before them in his present 
 apparel, and wondered if a clam shell might not be 
 hurled, playfully, of course, at the gentleman's eye- 
 
 " No, no ; everybody must stay in his own niche. 
 Depend upon it, my dear fellow, I'm much bet- 
 ter employed collecting bric-d-brac. We must all 
 understand our limitations and accept them. When 
 I tell you my errand here this evening will you 
 think I am overstepping mine ? " 
 
 " Never in the world, I feel sure." 
 
 " Yery well ; may I speak to you seriously for 
 two minutes ? " 
 
 " For as many hours, if you like." 
 
 Mr. Ackley rose, shook off his monocle by that 
 contraction of the facial muscles which sent it out 
 vertically for a moment, spinning and whirling 
 helplessly on its retaining string, made a few cau- 
 tious steps forward, looked about him, and then, re- 
 turning, motioned Norwood to a seat closer to his 
 side. He began to fumble in his breast for a mo- 
 ment, and, heaving a long breath, drew forth a 
 letter. 
 
 " I will tell you, then," he said without further 
 22
 
 338 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 circumlocution, " that I have come to speak to you 
 about your wife." 
 
 Norwood blanched. 
 
 " Has she sent you ? " he asked huskily, spring- 
 ing to his feet and facing Mr. Ackley. 
 
 "No, she has not. I wish she had. Am I 
 right in my belief that you wish so too ? " 
 
 Norwood cleared a parched throat and bowed 
 his head, which remained bent forward upon his 
 breast. 
 
 " I won't waste any time in idle apologies for 
 intruding into your private affairs, and what not. 
 I came to please Mrs. Heathcote, and there's 
 nothing she would deprecate so much. She hates 
 phrases, and so do we Norwood, you and I. I've 
 got a letter from her, and I've brought it to you 
 to read," and as he spoke he handed Norwood 
 the letter of the morning. It was a bold stroke ; 
 but Mrs. Heathcote had said he was a Cavour, 
 so it must be supposed he knew what he was 
 about. 
 
 Norwood took it and read from the passage 
 which Mr. Ackley indicated. He read it twice 
 slowly. Then, keen of judgment as he was, and 
 prompt of action, so ready with parry and thrust in 
 the court-room, so dreaded by his antagonists, he 
 looked up helplessly at the man of the world. 
 
 " Shall I go at once, Ackley ? " he said. " Ad-
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 339 
 
 vise me ! It will be my last chance, my last die 
 with her." 
 
 " No," said Mr. Ackley, "I'll go." 
 
 "You?" 
 
 " I sail day after to-morrow at dawn. I shall 
 be over there in a little more than a week. The 
 Cephalonia's an arrow, the weather splendid, the 
 month propitious. I'll see her at once. I'll be 
 your advocate. What shall I say to her?" 
 
 " Wait," said Norwood, and left the room. 
 
 lie returned presently with a packet of letters. 
 He was tying them together as he came in. They 
 were his to Paula. 
 
 " Give her these," he said, " and swear to me 
 that she reads them." 
 
 " I swear," said Ackley gravely, taking the let- 
 ters. 
 
 " Tell her," said Norwood, leaning against the 
 mantel shelf, " that I love her. Tell her that the 
 years have been spent in manly work, whose only 
 impulse was her service. Tell her I wished that 
 she should not be ashamed of me. Tell her " this 
 with the almost superhuman effort which it costs 
 men to say such things to one another " that they 
 have been chaste years; that I have looked into 
 no woman's eyes since I looked my last into hers. 
 Tell her, tell her, Ackley, that I have done what 
 I have not done since I was a little child I have
 
 340 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 prayed ! Tell her if she will come back to me I 
 will be a dog to her." 
 
 " Hold on, old man," said Singleton, " let me 
 off on the dog. Women don't like dogs, unless, 
 indeed, they be of the kind that bite, and I imagine 
 that's not your mood now. There's not much bite 
 in you at present. You may depend on me. I 
 have reached the age when tact is indispensable. I 
 am not a tyro in these matters. You go there your- 
 self ? No. Just wait until I have made the little 
 lady read all your letters. Then I'll telegraph you, 
 and you can come right out and insist that she shall 
 come home to you." 
 
 " I have forfeited all right," said Norwood. 
 
 " Who's talking about rights ? Who cares for 
 them ? Do women ? More women are frightened 
 away by the assertion of rights than by their for- 
 feiture. Never ask a woman's forgiveness either ; 
 it makes 'em frantic. A man is calmed down by 
 submissiveness can accept apology but a woman 
 is persuaded by the very earnestness of your en- 
 treaty for pardon that her wrongs are even deeper 
 than she first imagined. Men are canine. They 
 don't molest what lies down. But women all have 
 a drop of the tiger in them, and devilish, attractive 
 it makes them, too ! No, just take her in your 
 arms they look strong enough kiss her on the 
 mouth, and command her to come home. That'll
 
 A PURITAN PAGAK 341 
 
 fetch her. I'm glad you've written. A letter is 
 surer to reach its mark than an interview. The 
 tell-tale faces are not there, the cruel glance, the 
 mocking, distrustful smile, the covert allusion, the 
 recrimination, the dagger thrust that bleeds and 
 thwarts. As to the dog, I've been that kind all my 
 life wagging my tail, running and carrying. I 
 speak from experience. See what it has brought 
 me to ! The women wear my flowers, come to my 
 dinner parties, crackle my bonbons, say 'He's a 
 dear!' and go off with some other fellow; and 
 they always have, ever since I was twenty. Take 
 warning ! " 
 
 "Come," said Norwood, "give me your hand 
 upon it. Say you'll make her read the letters. 
 The last was written yesterday. Then a word to 
 me as to. how she takes them, and I'll follow your 
 advice and force her back to me. But," he added, 
 " why shouldn't I cross witli you ? I can hang out 
 at some hotel while you find her, and then . . . 
 then . . ." 
 
 "Yery well, man, do it, and make an .ass of 
 yourself. You'll have this French marquis or 
 baron, or whatever he is, by the ear before I can 
 turn round and look at you. I haven't forgotten 
 the gentleman who rolled down your office stairs 
 into my waistcoat. There'll be fisticuffs and a 
 devil of a row. If you persist in that course I'll
 
 342 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 wash my hands of the whole business. She'll be 
 offish, at first, and if you are stupid all's up." 
 
 " It seems so cowardly." 
 
 " Of course it's cowardly ; it's got to be. Give 
 her ten days to want you after she's read the let- 
 ters, and then . . . come." 
 
 " I'll try to wait," said Norwood, and the two 
 men walked down together as far as the gate, and 
 there they parted. 
 
 " Ackley," said Norwood, " were you ever 
 er " 
 
 " Jealous, eh ? You squirm at the word, I see. 
 Men don't like to own up it hurts their little 
 vanity. Bless me, I've never been anything else ! 
 The only woman I ever loved married a man who 
 is in every way my superior, and fell in love with 
 another who's not worthy to black my boots. Good 
 Gad ! and then you ask me . . ." 
 
 ""Where did it take you, Ackley, when the 
 spasm was upon you in the knee joints or in the 
 larynx ? " said Norwood with a grim smile. 
 
 " I'm not romantic. It takes me use the pres- 
 ent tense, if you like it takes me in the pit of the 
 stomach and arrests digestion. Solids become un- 
 manageable. I always recommend milk diet. It's 
 less heating. Good-day." 
 
 " Good-day," said Norwood. 
 
 fie came back into his lonely house.
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 343 
 
 And then it took him not only in the knee 
 joints and the larynx, but seized upon him and 
 shook him to the very centers of his being sent 
 him inadly pacing the floor with set lips and 
 clinched fingers. AVhat ! Paula ? his wife ? His, 
 say what they might still his ! What ? He saw 
 him, that other one who "loved her desperate- 
 ly," lean to her God ! touch her, touch her do 
 you understand ? his Paula ! They spoke low 
 words, whispering together close what were they 
 saying? He found himself peering into the dark- 
 ness, straining his ears as if to listen, and the flesh 
 awoke, with its insistence and its torments. Feel- 
 ings long dormant and dulled by suffering and 
 hopelessness woke again to scourge him. He 
 thought of her, the lovely, shy girl, the shrinking, 
 timid young wife, and now a woman, loved by 
 others nay, desired "frantically" Mrs. Heath- 
 cote had said it thrown by his sin into another's 
 arms! 
 
 He knew and saw it all now. He had read of 
 her triumphs, but he had not acknowledged to him- 
 self his fears. She was so pure, how could he 
 doubt her? But now now he doubted. No, it 
 should not be it could not. He would do battle 
 for her as the savages did of old ; ay, until blood 
 was spilled his or that other man's, and then she 
 would be his once more. Ah ! that he might have
 
 344 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 had him by the throat to-night ! but he was only 
 grappling with that passion whose fierceness fights 
 shadows light as air. It was a fearful night. At 
 dawn he was writing at his desk. He made many 
 arrangements. In ten or twelve days he would 
 be leaving America, perhaps sooner. Perhaps he 
 would find he could not wait, and no one knew 
 what might happen. 
 
 Among other things he wrote and sent more 
 money more than was needed to the West ; for 
 there Mabel Brentworth's unfortunate child was 
 being brought up. 
 
 A widow a lady, a kind and gentle person, left 
 to struggle alone with an only daughter upon a dis- 
 tant ranch had been found willing to take him in ; 
 willing, I say, for at first it had been with sighs 
 and conditions, the only inducement being the lib- 
 eral payment. But now she had learned to love 
 him and even had expressed herself inclined to 
 adopt him as her own. For this babe who should 
 have died seeing that he was superfluous in a uni- 
 verse already overpeopled, had failed to show, I 
 will not say the proper savoir vivre, but the req- 
 uisite savoir mourir. It was lamentable, nay, un- 
 pardonable. In fiction such children are obliging 
 enough to die ; in real life they sometimes thrive. 
 The boy had thriven. He was a robust, handsome, 
 stalwart, intelligent, little lad, quick to fight with
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 345 
 
 his fat, rosy fists, quick to make up with laughter 
 and a kiss. He was a jolly, merry, noisy little fel- 
 low, fond of romping and of play. He lived and 
 meant to live, and nobody should challenge his 
 right to do so. He bore his mother's maiden name 
 and passed for an orphan with no near relatives, but 
 with money, money in plenty. The remittances 
 that came for him were more than generous. And 
 here we will leave him. Of his future we can not 
 speak, since it is not here.
 
 CHAPTEE XXIV. 
 
 THE lover lias two battle-grounds upon which to 
 test his powers a woman's drawing-room and a 
 woman's imagination. In the superficial shallows 
 of the former he is rarely conqueror ; in the agi- 
 tated depths of the latter, almost always, for women 
 invariably find chimeras harder to fight than reali- 
 ties. When he arrives the creature clothed with 
 the limitations that the flesh imposes he is often 
 divested of half his attributes. A foolish word, 
 some personal defect or perverse habit, some neg- 
 ligence of attitude or dress, which women are quick 
 to interpret as a lack of respect, a want of tact or 
 grace, which jars or annoys, may rob him in a mo- 
 ment of prestige and convert him into a paltry ad- 
 versary, after all. She will smile at her terrors. 
 
 Paula was passing an autumn afternoon in Paris 
 occupied in the adornment of her person, such 
 care of the toilet as a woman of self-respect be- 
 stows upon herself before receiving acquaintance or 
 friend. Tad Nailer was announced, but she was
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 347 
 
 not dressing for Tad, and so she informed him, 
 standing behind a flower pot with her hair hanging 
 down her back. The flower pot obscured his view 
 of her as her graceful form swayed upon the thresh- 
 old of her rose-curtained bed-chamber. 
 
 " Tad, dear, I'm so awfully sorry, but won't you 
 please go away ? " 
 
 " That's what Mrs. Heathcote just said to me at 
 the legation," replied the visitor thus abjured de- 
 spondingly. 
 
 " I'm so sorry but you see . . ." 
 
 " I see you're expecting somebody else." 
 
 "Yes frankly, lam." 
 
 " So was Mrs. Heathcote." 
 
 " Really ? I wonder whoever it could have 
 been?" 
 
 " It wasn't me ? That's the important ; nobody 
 ever does expect me." 
 
 "OTad!" 
 
 " Well, I'm sorry. I came to say good-by. I'll 
 run in again." 
 
 " Wait a minute. I'll put on something." 
 
 " No, don't bother. I only came over here, you 
 know, to get marma, and now I've got her I must 
 sail at once. It's been pretty hard work, and I 
 don't want her to give me the slip at the last mo- 
 ment." 
 
 " Ah ! she has liked it over here ? " said Paula.
 
 348 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 " She's had lots of fun, but the governor says 
 she's spent too much money, and he's sent me over 
 to stop her." 
 
 Mrs. Nailer had, indeed, " had fun." She had 
 drifted about and in and out of various European 
 cities and watering places, husbandless and sonless. 
 During these peregrinations Tad back in America 
 she had left behind her a trail of glory which had 
 dazzled no vision but her own. Mrs. Nailer had no 
 humor, therefore the vistas of her triumphs, which 
 she confided to Tad, were not dimmed. She told 
 her son that it was her conviction that, if she had 
 not been such a fool as to marry, at an age too 
 early for responsible decisions, her present husband 
 (Tad's father) she would have been offered one 
 of the European crowns for the sake of proba- 
 bility, we will say the . . . Bulgarian. And Tad 
 had been much impressed by the revelations of these 
 retrospective sacrifices, although he had vaguely 
 wondered where he would have been under the 
 circumstances. He generously avoided, however, 
 putting the inquiry into words, not wishing that the 
 splendor of his mother's experiences should be for- 
 feited through any fault of his. 
 
 Across the dark leaves of the gardenia flowers 
 Paula gave him her hand to kiss, and after this 
 leave-taking Tad got himself out. Paula, who had 
 done a very foolish thing that morning, was, there-
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 349 
 
 fore, left alone again to ponder over and regret it. 
 The adorning processes continued, her maid being 
 called upon to dress and undress her hair four 
 times, while the mistress changed her mind at least 
 six about the frock she would wear. She finally 
 hurried, with less care than usual, into one she dis- 
 liked. She was in such haste, indeed, to reach the 
 drawing-rooms that she could hardly be induced to 
 wait for the adjustment of soft chiffon at the throat, 
 and pulled up her long gloves with a nervous im- 
 patience, as if her very existence depended upon 
 a moment's delay. When she approached the draw- 
 ing-room clock to see the hour for herself, she was 
 surprised to find that she was ready a half -hour, 
 nay, forty minutes too soon. She told herself that 
 when the hand had crossed the half-hour it was 
 now twenty minutes after four it would not seem 
 so very long. 
 
 For Paula, after having summarily dismissed 
 the Prince, in a manner he had called harsh and 
 heartless, had, with true feminine inconsistency, 
 written him a note that day asking him to come 
 and take tea with her. Yes, as senselessly as that, 
 without explanation and without excuse. The fact 
 is, the Prince had obeyed her imperious injunction 
 to leave her so implicitly, without making one sign 
 of life since her cruelty, that he had grown, and 
 now towered into a giant. She told herself that
 
 350 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 she wished to see him just once more, to gauge his 
 height and breadth more accurately, for his present 
 proportions upon her horizon had become alarming, 
 obscuring the heavens. Curiously, too, he had not 
 answered her note of the morning. She wished 
 now it had been in the form of a question a ques- 
 tion requiring reply, and not as it had been, a sum- 
 mons. For the six hours which must intervene 
 between her message and his arrival, and which 
 were now nearly spent, had, it must be acknowl- 
 edged, dragged heavily. The hours had not been 
 agreeable ones. A word from him would have 
 been a distraction. 
 
 De Montreuil had been to Paula like a strain 
 of music which drowns and drugs the memory of 
 pain, an anchorage to her wavering will and fancy. 
 This spell once willfully broken, she had found her- 
 self adrift again upon a stormy sea. His presence 
 brought her rest and sympathy. She found, to her 
 surprise, that his absence left her excited and dis- 
 satisfied. 
 
 She had expected a letter from him for two 
 weeks. It had not come. He had not come. The 
 person who keeps us waiting is never insignificant. 
 Monsieur de Montreuil was a very clever young 
 prince indeed. The man who, after pouring out 
 assiduous homage at a woman's feet, suddenly with- 
 draws, is probably nearer the attainment of his de-
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 351 
 
 sires than ever before or after. The recollection 
 of what one has had and lost becomes oppressive. 
 
 With shame and annoyance Paula found herself 
 a prey to this peculiar form of suffering. After 
 listening to every footfall for a fortnight, scanning 
 eagerly every letter, hearkening with avidity to 
 every whispered word or message, receiving bonbons 
 and flowers . . . from other sources, she entered 
 into a state of irritability amounting to monomania. 
 Her pride rebelled, her delicacy was shocked ; but 
 she had to acknowledge to herself that she was van- 
 quished. " If," she thought, " I could but grapple 
 with it, see him once, talk and laugh with him 
 wholesomely, it would all be as nothing." 
 
 Now twenty minutes more the hands were 
 slowly moving on and she would know if he had 
 received her word, if he were coming. She rang 
 and began to give the servant minute instructions 
 as to possible visitors. She spoke to him gently, 
 as one can to French domestics, who serve one best 
 when treated with confidence. It is the English 
 servant who must be bullied; to him nothing can 
 be explained. She told the man to bring her all 
 cards and she would decide whether she would re- 
 ceive or no. After a quarter before five no one 
 was to be sent away. Then she remembered the 
 porter. The porter must be told she was at home. 
 What i* De Montreuil had already called and had
 
 352 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 been misled and had left ? After the servant closed 
 the door her heart sank. He was rather stupid. 
 Her directions had probably been too intricate. 
 She rang again, but when she saw him felt ashamed 
 and only bade him throw more wood on the fire in 
 a room which was already overwarm. At eighteen 
 minutes before five Comte de Freysne's card was 
 brought up to her. She sent word " not receiving." 
 Of course it was too early for De Montreuil ; but 
 she had trembled, and it was not with cold. At 
 ten minutes before five some women's cards were 
 brought to her. She sent word, "Out." Then 
 she had a panic. If De Montreuil were on the 
 stairs at the same moment and heard the verdict, 
 he, too, would depart incensed. When five o'clock 
 came and no De Montreuil, she could no longer sit 
 still ; she rose and walked about the room, trailing 
 her long, moss-colored gown behind her, pushing 
 from her passage all obstacles with a childish petu- 
 lance. Then she ran into her room to readjust a 
 fallen mesh of hair. She tore out half of it, and 
 her eyes filled with the pain, and with something 
 else, half stifled and less physical. Her bedroom 
 clock said five minutes after five. The drawing- 
 room was five minutes faster ten after the hour. 
 When he did come at last she was reduced to a 
 miserable limp heap in a corner of the sofa, with 
 lips that were very white. It was exactly as she
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 353 
 
 had expected. He was much less important or 
 imposing than she had pictured him, and the reac- 
 tion threw her into a state of exalted gayety entirely 
 foreign to her usual seriousness. 
 
 Not unused to feminine mystery De Montreuil 
 may have read between the lines of her factitious 
 merriment, but he was too politic to betray himself. 
 De Montreuil was in love with Paula, but love, 
 which makes some of us flounder and blunder, 
 teaches craft and diplomacy to others. It must be 
 conceded his policy had been a wise one, and the 
 intense joy that her summons liad given him had 
 fully repaid him for the long period of self-restraint 
 and of pain. He was too wise, however, to show 
 his triumph, and the most lynx-eyed observer would 
 have failed to detect one trace of exultation in the 
 deep humility of his attitude. De Montreuil was 
 one of those rare men who can take a woman's hand 
 and replace her upon the pedestal from which she 
 has herself stepped down. He was an artist in 
 matters of the heart. Indeed, he played his part 
 so well that afternoon that he deserved a better 
 fate than was to be his. But before the seismic 
 forces of upheaved nature, before the unexpected 
 convulsion of the cyclone, man's genius is impotent. 
 He must needs furl his sails and acknowledge him- 
 self beaten. Who does not remember Gilliatt's cry 
 
 in the tempest, " Grace ! " 
 23
 
 354: A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 A storm was even now brewing which was to 
 hurl De Montreuil's slight bark upon the reef 
 where it should founder. He had once said to 
 Paula, " I felt you were a Gibraltar." The speech 
 for him was to prove prophetic. But all these 
 things must be. They are a part of each human 
 lot; only when one is ardently in love philosophy 
 sleeps. De Montreuil never forgot the lesson which 
 was taught to him that afternoon. He only under- 
 stood it many years afterward. 
 
 His presence to-day almost immediately soothed 
 and calmed her ; it always did. They talked and 
 laughed like two old friends, and she could busy 
 herself with making tea for him and speak lightly 
 upon general topics as if he had never declared to 
 her the degree of his adoration. He asked no ex- 
 planation of her relenting, contenting himself with 
 watching her deft fingers among the cups, daintily 
 putting in cream, looking up at him and saying, 
 " How many lumps ? " 
 
 How womanly she was ! how girlish, how pure ! 
 The poor fellow was happy, "What a heaven to be 
 by her side once again ! He felt and knew her in- 
 fluence upon him to be ennobling. Why, then, did 
 people try to keep them asunder ? What were peo- 
 ple? Puppets and shadows. What if he should 
 lose her now ? As the terrible fear touched him 
 he moved his chair nearer to hers, to where she sat
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 355 
 
 close to the low table, and lie leaned forward rever- 
 ently over her hand. And it was just then that the 
 door was thrown open and Jules, the servant, an- 
 nounced " Monsieur Ackley." 
 
 Singleton's portly figure darkened the unfortu- 
 nate Prince's sight with a first premonition of im- 
 pending doom. But of course he rose, and was 
 very civil, as we perforce must be in such dilemmas, 
 hat in hand, through the introduction. 
 
 Mrs. Norwood received her old acquaintance 
 cordially, but it must be admitted that his presence 
 was not welcome, and no one was more immediately 
 cognizant of the fact than Mr. Ackley himself. 
 Nevertheless, he laid down his cane leisurely, drew 
 off his light overcoat, and, approaching the tea table, 
 asked, after the first exchange of greetings was over, 
 if he might have a cup. 
 
 " Bread and butter ? " 
 
 " Yes, why not ? No sugar no thanks, a slice 
 of lemon." 
 
 Had he seen Mrs. Heathcote ? 
 
 " Yes," arriving in the night, he had just been 
 to the legation by appointment. " How charm- 
 ingly she looked yes, always the same." 
 
 " And you," he continued, scanning Paula 
 through his glass, " you, too, are looking well." 
 
 " Dear me, dear me ! " he thought to himself, 
 " What a chano;e since I first saw her at that horrid
 
 356 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 sea place. What poise ! But, of course, she's got 
 to drop all this and come home. Nice fellow, this 
 French boy ! Yes, desperate, too. He shows it in 
 the back of his head, of which I caught a reflection 
 in the mirror as I came in. One can always tell if 
 a man is serious by the expression of the back of 
 the head. There's something about the hair. The 
 feet, too, turned in under his chair. He's got it 
 badly, I can see that. He carries it less awkwardly, 
 however, than the generality of males." 
 
 After frantically fretting on the bit for a quar- 
 ter of an hour De Montreuil, seeing this hateful in- 
 terloper had come to stay, stooped over Paula's 
 hand and made his adieus. He could not stand this 
 any longer. In such a case the American sits down 
 to a siege. But centuries of civilization have taught 
 the European to retire with dignity. He does not 
 feel compelled to remain and fight for the sole pos- 
 sessorship of his woman. He withdraws in good 
 order, with a large belief in the morrow. He de- 
 cided that he would write to her and ask to be al- 
 lowed to return that night, or, at the very latest, on 
 the following day. But De Montreuil's hopes were 
 to know no to-morrow. 
 
 I was not told what Mr. Ackley said to Paula 
 no one has ever known. She has not spoken and 
 he has not divulged. Let us never doubt or belittle 
 the potency of words. A word has made and un-
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 35? 
 
 done a nation. A well-turned sentence has stopped 
 the course of empire. All I know is that the night 
 found her eagerly devouring her husband's letters, 
 and that in their perusal De Montreuil from his in- 
 secure footing was swept forever. One by one she 
 read them. Ah, what a task ! Read, read, until her 
 eyes throbbed, her head reeled, and she sank to her 
 knees with the papers clutched in her hands and 
 against her breast. There was one that was so dear, 
 so dear that first one that she had spurned and 
 tossed back at him in the bitterness of her resent- 
 ment. How it burned and scorched her now ! and 
 it did so because of its truth she knew that it was 
 true ; not to be despised, not to be rejected ; a 
 man's very life blood drawn from his veins. He 
 who so wrote might have been capable of error, but 
 not of baseness. Did she not herself hope for 
 grace and for forgiveness ? It was a solemn hour ; 
 the most solemn of all Paula's life, for all the let- 
 ters were but one hopeless imploring. " O Paula ! " 
 they said " Ifave mercy ! Come back to me ! " 
 
 " O Christ," she cried, upon her knees, " have 
 mercy upon us both ! " and with this invocation all 
 the anger, all the jealous fury which had so often 
 racked and ravaged her seemed to fall ; and when 
 dawn, creeping in spectrally at the open window, 
 found her still kneeling, wounded Love had folded 
 his hands and laid down his arms. She felt that the
 
 358 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 truce was the herald of an ended combat. An angel 
 of compassion seemed to beckon her tired spirit to 
 tread higher paths than she had ever reached before. 
 Such spiritual visitants are not infrequent when the 
 soul is lifted for a moment to the realms in which 
 they dwell. 
 
 As the dawn melted into the day's effulgence, 
 the apocalyptic vision had left with Paula's storm- 
 tossed spirit an ineffable peace.
 
 CHAPTER XXY. 
 
 NORWOOD did not sail. He received this cable 
 from Singleton Acklej : 
 
 "Do not stir. She is going home. I advise 
 you to give her the initiative." 
 
 The day after reading her husband's letters 
 Paula announced her determination to her aunt. 
 
 " Aunt Amy," she said, " I have just time to 
 catch the Champagne. I can reach Havre to-mor- 
 row morning. I am homesick for America. Will 
 you let me go ? " 
 
 " Are you going back to him f " said Mrs. Sor- 
 chan, laying down her book. 
 
 " I don't know," said Paula, paling. " Forgive 
 me, Aunt Amy, I must go back to America, or ... 
 die!" 
 
 Mrs. Sorchan rang the bell. " Jules," she said, 
 when the servant responded, " I will give you some 
 bills to pay. You can stop at the bank for money. 
 Go to Felix's and tell them to send our gowns at once, 
 finished or not. I will also give you a note to the
 
 360 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 legation and one for the Duchess de Fortes. Send 
 the maids here to me, and be quick about it, do you 
 hear ? and wait ; bring me a cable blank." 
 
 " What ! " said Paula, " you will go too ? Aunt 
 Amy, I had no right to expect it of you. I know 
 you must think me inexplicable." 
 
 Then the old woman began to weep. 
 
 Paula was a good sailor, and when, two weeks 
 later, Frau Sclmltz folded her to her bosom in her 
 aunt's house on the square she said to her : " Ach, 
 my angel, how beautiful you have grown ! " 
 
 They had landed very early in the morning. 
 Paula sent word to a friend to whom she had lent 
 her saddle horse, and who had also cared for old 
 Gyp during her absence, that horse and dog must 
 be brought to her that afternoon, as she wished to 
 ride. 
 
 " Unpack my riding things at once," she com- 
 manded her maid when the last boxes had lumbered 
 up to the front door. "They are all together in 
 the English trunk." 
 
 Her aunt's groom had come around from the 
 stables for his orders, and was told to be in readi- 
 ness to follow her at four o'clock. It was all rather 
 startling, but her orders were given peremptorily. 
 
 Molded snugly into her London habit, her hair 
 coiled into a tight knot, her veil just drawn across 
 her upper lip, her dark eyes luminous as if with
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 361 
 
 some fixed purpose of expectancy, Paula presented 
 a very charming appearance as she rode up the 
 avenue. The passers-by turned and looked at her 
 with that curiosity and interest that the " lady on 
 horseback" still awakens in the streets of our 
 American cities. It was a holiday. All the world 
 was astir and agog. The thoroughfares were full 
 of festal people bent on their errands of pleasure. 
 When she left the crowded town behind her and 
 turned her horse's head riverward, Paula had little 
 time to notice the upturned faces of admiration 
 lifted to pay tribute to her beauty. Her steed re- 
 quired her undivided attention ; her hands were 
 full with his guidance. Well groomed, well fed, a 
 trifle overfresh, it was evident that her friend had 
 respected the loan. He seemed to realize that his 
 young mistress was once more upon his strong, 
 curveting back and ready as of old for a mad gal- 
 lop. He was older, but it seemed not wiser. 
 
 As they entered the drive Paula threw back at 
 her servant, "I'll let him out here; he's terribly 
 nervous," and off she darted up the first hill in and 
 out among the carriages not very numerous 
 which separated to let the flying figure pass them. 
 She had not gone a mile before she became con- 
 scious of a horse's hoofs in close pursuit, and in 
 a moment its rider was abreast of her. 
 
 " Mrs. Norwood ! " The speaker was Hartman.
 
 362 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 Hartman's plans of conquest having suffered a 
 severe check at Homburg the previous summer, 
 where he had met the Sorchan ladies, he had made 
 up his mind that Paula was virtuous. After some 
 rumination on the subject, he had concluded that it 
 was childish but had its sublimities. There are 
 men as ingenuous as this. Paula was virtuous 
 no doubt, but such virtue as she possessed had not 
 been greatly strained in her resistance of his re- 
 pellent assiduities. 
 
 " Mrs. Norwood ! I thought you were in Eu- 
 rope!" 
 
 He was breathless, and they pulled up their 
 horses into a walk. 
 
 " I landed this morning." 
 
 " And you now ride ! That is energy." 
 
 " Yes, I now ride. I wanted to breathe my 
 native air untrammeled." 
 
 "And how could you decide to tear yourself 
 from Europe ? " 
 
 " I was tired of looking at fossils. I found 
 that I was becoming fossilized and artificial my- 
 self." 
 
 Paula was virtuous, but she was also pretty and 
 fashionable. Hartman concluded it was worth 
 while. 
 
 " Fossilized ! . . . with that color ! " 
 
 " That at least remains genuine."
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 353 
 
 It had to be borne ; and to think she was near- 
 ing her home, and this creature beside her ! She 
 had had a mad longing to see it once again before 
 . . . what ? Her dear home ? Ah ! it was almost 
 in sight now. Yes, there were the trees ; the dark 
 evergreens, the copper beech, the plane under which 
 she had swung of old. 
 
 The day was very lovely. There was some- 
 thing nuptial about it, a lingering warmth of sum- 
 mer with the crispness of autumn. Creation was 
 having its holiday, too a last one, a little hurried 
 and reckless, before the winter. It was beautiful 
 with that troubling beauty of a ripe woman, 
 luscious, generous that second beauty of second 
 youth, royal prerogative of rich natures. In the 
 night there had been showers. The stones of the 
 wall, the gravel of the road, were washed clean, and 
 sparkled in the sunny air. The grass smelled sweet. 
 The river was an emerald. Here and there a sail 
 broke its green surfaces and made long undulations 
 of shadow. White clouds chased each other across 
 a dark-blue sky, moving like goddesses at play. 
 There was gold and silver in the light. 
 
 Opposite Paula's old home some German chil- 
 dren had formed themselves into a circle. Their 
 screams startled her horse. He neighed and reared. 
 A skillful horsewoman, she kept her seat pluckily, 
 speaking to him and using her whip once or twice
 
 364 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 sharply to subdue him into obedience. A man who 
 was leaning on the parapet looking out at the river 
 turned at this moment to cross the road. She did 
 not know how it was she never knew but before 
 she could control her horse he had plunged for- 
 ward and was almost upon the man the tall, gray-, 
 haired stranger with stooping shoulders, whom she 
 did not recognize. She screamed, and her lids 
 closed in terror. When she raised them he held 
 her bridle. The horse was standing still. He took 
 off his hat. It was her husband. He lifted his 
 eyes and in their tired depths she read the story 
 of the years in all its unspoken eloquence. She 
 gave her horse a lash across his shoulder, and 
 in a moment had bounded forward, followed by 
 Hartman. 
 
 " You very nearly ran over and killed that fel- 
 low," he said to Mrs. Norwood, galloping up to 
 her ; " but I don't suppose a man or two less in the 
 world would ruffle your calm. Manslaughter in 
 the first degree or justifiable homicide are alike to 
 your superb disdain." 
 
 " Am I a ghoul, do you think, who plays with 
 dead men's bones?" she asked with a bitterness 
 that escaped him. 
 
 " You are a fair woman who plays with live 
 men's hearts," he answered, leaning in his saddle 
 toward her.
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. . 365 
 
 It was a pretty enough speech, such as women 
 like. 
 
 She looked at him. How horrible he was with 
 his sensual lips so near! How she would have 
 liked to use her whip across his smiling face ! She 
 loathed him at that moment with that acute physi- 
 cal loathing of the delicate, high-strung woman 
 an emotion which rarely permeates a man's rougher 
 being. That horror which thrills the veins with 
 pain when a touch, even a glance, seems pollution. 
 But the world had taught Paula the lesson of con- 
 cealment. Quivering with suppressed agitation, 
 she yet could meet his words with laughter and 
 with jest. 
 
 It was late. Norwood sat alone in his study, 
 his head bent down upon his arms. They were 
 stretched despondingly across the writing-table 
 where the lamp's red rays fell on his hair and neck. 
 He had not moved for an hour. He had not even 
 changed his clothes since the moment he had 
 looked up and seen her again seen her, but not 
 his Paula, this proud beauty with defiant lips. 
 Ackley had deceived him, deceived himself. She 
 was not for him. That dream was over. Outside, 
 amid the desolation of the lonely garden, the chrys- 
 anthemums were in bloom, their still, white faces 
 turned upward to a glorious moon. On the porch 
 the pale autumn roses twined their network of
 
 366 A PURITAN PAGAN. 
 
 branches, swinging on the river gusts. They 
 looked into the window pane where they had 
 climbed looked in, as they so often had before, 
 on the silent, lonely man, but he felt that she would 
 not care for them any more. She had not even 
 had the grace to come to her old home alone. She 
 had dragged another, a lover, perhaps, in her train, 
 merciless to the tryst of memory. She might have 
 spared him this. She had been so well avenged. 
 
 And then he heard a rustle on the threshold, 
 the trail of a woman's garments on the floor. How 
 often had this sound disturbed his vigils, cheating 
 him with its lie a wind's breath, a murmur of the 
 leaves below ! Once again he looked up with dazed 
 eyes and, lo, a presence ! She was wrapped in a 
 long fur coat, and, as she moved, she unclasped it 
 and it fell away behind her. Her white satin gown 
 fell to her feet, draping her in its rich folds. There 
 were pearls at her throat and pearls in her dark 
 tresses. 
 
 " Norwood," she said, " I have come back. It 
 is Paula." 
 
 But he would not believe. Then she drew near 
 and touched him. 
 
 " Norwood, it is Paula." 
 
 He sprang to his feet. 
 
 " No, no ! " he said, waving her back and 
 shrinking from her " no, no ! I have been alone
 
 A PURITAN PAGAN. 337 
 
 so long. It is not true. You are not real. It is 
 a lie. I am afraid ! " 
 
 Then she held out compassionate hands to him, 
 and on her face was a transfiguring tenderness. 
 She was no timid girl now, but a gracious, serene 
 lady, sweet and strong for comfort and consolation. 
 
 " You pity me," he said. "I needed it ; I thank 
 you." 
 
 " Norwood, I love you ! " She still held her 
 hands out toward him, but he still shrank from her. 
 
 " There is another word, another . . . You 
 dare not speak . . ." 
 
 Then generously, like a sovereign who weighs 
 not the largess of her gift 
 
 " Norwood," she said to him, " I trust you." 
 
 With a wild cry he caught her. 
 
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