.

 
 f 
 
 140 T 
 
 -
 
 DOLLARS AND DUTY 
 
 EMORY J. HAYNES. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 
 JAMES II. EARLE, PUBLISHER, 
 
 178 WASHINGTON STREET. 
 
 1887.
 
 Copyright, 1886. 
 BY JAMES H. EARLE. 
 
 All rights reserved.
 
 INDEX TO CHAPTERS. 
 
 I. MY BEAUTIFUL BOY 7 
 
 II. A GRAVE CRISIS 25 
 
 III. Ix CONFLICT 47 
 
 IV. ON THE AVENUE 71 
 
 V. A SERIOUS QUESTION 94 
 
 VI. IN THE COUNTING-ROOM in 
 
 VII. BUILDING A MANSION * 136 
 
 VIII. THE OLD SCHOOL-HOUSE 143 
 
 IX. THE DECISION 159 
 
 X. CARRYING IT OUT 180 
 
 XI. ON THE ICE . . . . 202 
 
 XII. STEPHEN CRANE 224 
 
 XIII. THE STRIKE 239 
 
 XIV. A NIGHT OF TERROR 249 
 
 XV. TROUBLE AT HOME . 270 
 
 XVI. BURIED IN A GREAT CITY 297 
 
 XVII. LONG BRANCH 316 
 
 2061923
 
 INDEX TO CHAPTERS. 
 
 XVIII. DISAPPOINTED 345 
 
 XIX. In TROUBLE 361 
 
 XX. A CALL 377 
 
 XXI. HAVENS AND NORCROSS 410 
 
 XXII. DISHONORED 436 
 
 XXIII. OUT OF LIFE INTO LIFE 449
 
 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 i. 
 
 MY BEAUTIFUL BOY. 
 
 ' 4 A/T Y Beautiful B y ! " 
 
 1V_L \vith a pin-head she wrote it on the 
 frost-work that overlaid the window-pane, that 
 brilliant winter's morning. The shafts of light 
 from oriflamme banners in the eastern sky made 
 every letter gleam with gold. From over the 
 snowy hills, through the leafless branches of old 
 trees all aglow; from the glinting roofs of the 
 low village cottages around, she seemed to draw 
 the glory of this day-dawn for the writing of 
 these words ; and, now, from the whole heavens, 
 as she traced the letters larger, clearer, and with 
 added touches of grace, " MY BEAUTIFUL BOY." 
 The wealth of advancing light seemed to realize 
 the uses to which this mother was putting it. It 
 rejoiced to be dipped by the pen of such a love; 
 it filled all the letters and poured over on the
 
 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 silver pane, on the whole sash, through into the 
 little room, and warming it more than the fresh- 
 started fire of wood that was snapping on the 
 hearth. But prettiest touch of all in the rising 
 sun he shed his luster all over the graceful 
 form of the writer herself, burnishing her gray 
 locks as they waved about her brow, freshening 
 her pallor with the hues almost of girlhood, for 
 the instant, and painting her into such a charm- 
 ing picture, that the man, who alone saw it, 
 paused, speechless, with the door-knob yet in 
 his hand. Then, very softly, with slippered feet, 
 the gentleman drew near her. The sunrise was 
 impartial: indeed there was splendor enough for 
 them both ; enough to touch his somber study- 
 gown into color, to fire his strong, scholarly face 
 with a smile not its own; enough to adorn his 
 gray hairs, above an expansive brow which made 
 you think of the open sky; enough sunlight was 
 there, had he been so disposed, and had he carried 
 a real pen in his fingers, to have enabled him 
 to write, also, "Mv BEAUTIFUL BOY." 
 
 But the father was content simply to read what 
 the mother of his son had etched so delicately. 
 His arm stole about her, giving her a surprise 
 that awoke her from her reverie. But she was 
 not startled ; she turned her sweet face up to
 
 MY BEAUTIFUL BOY. 
 
 his, and met him with that nameless ease which 
 they only have who are much accustomed to, 
 who live, indeed, in each other's society. For 
 the minister and his wife, this man and this 
 woman, were ever together. She was in his 
 study before him and awaiting him this morn- 
 ing. She was often here, by this very window, 
 silent for hours, then communing for moments 
 only, as he looked up from sermon-writing and 
 rested in the tones of her clear voice. Never 
 did "God join together" two spirits more con- 
 genial than these had been, now almost thirty 
 years. 
 
 He bent to her tenderly, and, kissing her, 
 looked into her gray eyes, which promptly be- 
 gan to fill with tears, now that sympathy had 
 added the one thrill more necessary to that 
 effect. Then he said, 
 
 "That is what he is, Julia, just that! Our 
 beautiful boy ! Our pure, clean, noble boy, 
 my love. Boy, Julia? He is a man now, and 
 a manlier man than our Paul does not walk the 
 earth!" 
 
 "I thank God for it, Sylvester!" she added, 
 fervently. " And I, his mother and his confi- 
 dante, do know all his manly heart." 
 
 The slightest shadow of a doubt flitted over
 
 IO DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 the husband's face. No one else would have 
 caught it, but she did, and the gray eyes asked 
 the question, quick as thought, of his blue eyes. 
 He did not answer, but bent over, stroking her 
 hair, and saying, 
 
 "Was the parting just as hard as ever, love, 
 on this his last vacation?" 
 
 "I suppose that was it," she responded. "At 
 any rate, he has been constantly in my thoughts 
 since I awoke; and just now I was picturing 
 him as about arrived at his room in the college. 
 You remember that early train ; and, oh, Sylves- 
 ter, he has been such a comfort to me, this 
 visit ! Was he ever so tender and so strong ? 
 How handsome he grows ! Why, it seems to 
 me, as I walk beside him, as I measure my 
 feeble steps with his vigorous strides, shortened 
 to my need; as I cling to his arm beneath that 
 broad shoulder; as I glance upward into his 
 cheery face, realizing how tall he is it seems, 
 father, an impossibility that one so grand should 
 have been born to frail little me. Was he not 
 magnificent, our boy?" 
 
 Her eyes had lost their question in her trans- 
 port, and, therefore, his face slipped off the du- 
 bious shadow which had raised that question, 
 while he yielded to her mood and said,
 
 MY BEAUTIFUL BOY. II 
 
 " Yes, yes ; all that you say, and more. But 
 you and I why do you disparage our own good 
 looks ? Seriously, if you please, are we not tall 
 enough ? " 
 
 Shaking her head, she promptly lapsed into 
 sadder mood again. "I am worn and broken; I 
 can not realize that I ever had health and 
 vigor. This life of ours no, forgive me. I 
 know that always pains you ; but even you are 
 not the giant whom I married. We two are two 
 bundles of nerves. The churches, I trust, " 
 
 "Have grown richer as we have wasted, my 
 love. Yes, yes," and he released one of her 
 hands, that he might softly fetter her lips with 
 his own long white fingers. "Yes, you know, 
 Julia, that is the conclusion which we long ago 
 agreed to reach with thoughts in that vein.'" 
 
 With that this gentle lady, not disputing, 
 though she removed his hand and interlaced her 
 fingers with his own, stood silent as her glances 
 ran about the cosy study, out through the south- 
 ward-facing windows, which revealed the village- 
 church, her husband's " workshop," as he loved 
 to call it, and then slowly back again to this 
 eastward-gazing window, where her etching was 
 now melting in the sun. Noticing the running 
 letters, she smiled sadly and said,
 
 12 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 " So is Paul's day advancing, and melting his 
 fond childhood, like this childhood's title, out of 
 all memories, mayhap, but my own. Nevertheless, 
 husband, as I see him grown so giant-like, I 
 arrest him, as it were, by imagination, and shut 
 him up in his little boyhood his babyhood, even, 
 I think of him, my only boy, as he was not so 
 very many years ago, when you remember, 
 Sylvester," she exclaimed, in abrupt and nervous 
 gleefulness, "when he used to stand upon this 
 very rug, his little bare feet taking the steps 
 that we could count then." 
 
 The clergyman's eyes grew moist ; he was, in 
 fact, almost upon the point of taking alarm at 
 the over-wrought mood of the frail lady, who 
 seemed to be well-nigh beside herself in this 
 unusual agitation from parting with her son. 
 
 "Sit down, Julia," he said, gently constraining 
 her into his study-chair, which he quickly rolled 
 before the grate. "We have reason to be vefy 
 careful of you, sweet wife and mother of my 
 children, these days, as you yourself well know." 
 He took her rocker for himself, as he tossed 
 his pen on the desk, and, drawing very close, 
 determined to give her all this morning, if nec- 
 essary, sermons or no sermons. 
 
 "Do not fear for me, Sylvester, I am more
 
 MY BEAUTIFUL DOY. 13 
 
 tranquil now. I will sit a moment, after which 
 I will walk down the street with one of the 
 girls for the marketing. But, as I was saying 
 my heart is full of Paul yet what a comfort 
 he is ! What a strong support for our age he 
 will be, when he is fairly launched in business 
 life ! I foresee that he will be a great merchant. 
 He has mind, manners, tact, iron energy, un- 
 breakable health, and is the very soul of integ- 
 rity. He will undoubtedly amass a fortune; but 
 I have prayed much, oh, so much! for him 
 that he trust not in uncertain riches. He will 
 be a foremost man in all benevolence, in who 
 knows what vast schemes of philanthropic wealth? 
 He will be that grand creature, a Christian mer- 
 chant, a truly Christ-like rich man!" 
 
 She had spoken rapidly. Her pale cheeks be- 
 gan to glow again with tell-tale spots. She had 
 evidently been all over this ground of dream- 
 land a thousand, thousand times before. And 
 she seemed, almost, to be arguing with her own 
 conscience; in the ill-definable emphasis of her 
 tones at least, so it seemed, as she portrayed 
 her son a rich man, a Christian. Or was she 
 possibly forefending against some anticipated crit- 
 icism from her husband, who had, for his 
 life-work, "toiled for naught of this world's
 
 14 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 goods," living on a beggarly salary of a lew 
 hundred a year? Of course this was only one 
 of a thousand conferences between these 
 two concerning their only boy's future. But 
 never before had she spoken quite so fervently. 
 He would graduate soon; the near event was, 
 doubtless, her present inspiration. 
 
 "A Christ-like rich man?" There was no at- 
 tempt' at rebuke in her husband's tone, as he 
 repeated her own last words. 
 
 "Indeed, Sylvester, it sounded a shade incon- 
 gruous to me, as I spoke, I acknowledge. To 
 be sure, Christ was not rich as as I hope 
 Paul will be. But Paul, being Christ-like out 
 of this humble home and poor enough to begin 
 with, having become rich, might be of Christ- 
 like spirit." 
 
 "True enough, Julia. No one who ever knew 
 you could attribute mercenary temper to you, my 
 blessed helper of all these laborious years. I 
 do not wonder that you portray to yourself 
 Paul's home as our home, by and bye." Un- 
 guardedly he uttered the sigh of a weary man, 
 as he reclined in the rocker and bent his 
 looks on the grate. 
 
 "Possible?" "And thou, too, Sir Noble Heart, 
 harbor a few traitor thoughts?" "Home?"
 
 MY BEAUTIFUL BOY. I 5 
 
 "Home by and bye?" "Were these the words 
 that betrayed thee?" 
 
 Such were the swift questions which her eyes 
 asked, as they glanced up, searching him. Then 
 the minister's wife, long-patient helpmeet, deter- 
 mined, with a great throb of emotion, to pin 
 her heart upon her sleeve for him to see. She 
 leaned forward, kindling with every word, until 
 he thought he had never seen her look so 
 peerless; and, though he trembled for her, he 
 dared not restrain her overflow of soul. 
 
 "Sylvester, this home the boy shall give us, 
 by the good blessing of the God who gave him 
 to us, a home at last! Oh, I have dreamed it 
 from his very cradle; the cradle which we have 
 moved from town to town, and one of the few 
 things we have called our own; the cradle of 
 his sisters each in turn before him ; then his 
 last ; and I used to bend above the dear old 
 rocking crib wherein he lay, and say, ' He, 
 this one, this man-child, shall make us a home 
 by and bye.' As his own little, childish heart 
 has been wrung with homesickness on our 
 moves from place to place; as I have seen him 
 often taking his sisters to some hill-top that 
 looked the farthest down the horizon towards 
 the distant village, out of sight, from whence
 
 1 6 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 we were last removed ; as I, with them, have 
 felt the strangeness of each new parish circle, 
 and endured its curiosity about my children, the 
 boy himself bristling, and I rebuking him for 
 all our sakes; oh, how have my secret hopes 
 run out to that fair day when the child should 
 build a home for this itinerant company! at 
 least for himself. My girls would, no doubt, 
 marry in time " 
 
 "And possibly marry young clergymen?" His 
 face was white as the snow; yet his rebuke 
 went no farther except in a peculiar rising in- 
 flection which he gave his question. 
 
 With a little start she looked full at her 
 husband, for a, mement, and said nothing. But 
 that look had said much ; it had said, " You 
 know better. Such a thing is too improbable to 
 be considered in connection with either our 
 Nora or Bella." 
 
 Resuming her speech again, this wife of a 
 preacher unconsciously preached to him. She 
 had grown into his copy, as wives generally do. 
 It came of these years in which she had sat 
 in the pews before him, so deeply solicitous for 
 his success that she always seemed to herself 
 both "to hear for everybody and to preach for 
 him." She gestured like him, now, though in
 
 MY BEAUTIFUL BOY. 
 
 a feeble way; her emphasis was like his; her 
 sentences were shaped like his; she easily dealt 
 in longer sentences and more continuous than 
 most women would have used in such familiar 
 conference. 
 
 " I have watched that dear young girl to 
 whom Paul is engaged. How sensitive she is ! 
 You often sec her blush so prettily. How 
 quick her high, though gentle, spirit would be 
 to resent the thousand sibillations that make the 
 ears of a pastor's wife tingle!" 
 
 "But what health she has!" he put in. 
 
 "And I once had; but hers is of a kind to 
 continue and to bloom only in the sheltered 
 garden of home. She would wither under the 
 blaze of this public life that I have led, as I 
 have withered. Then our Paul would have 
 what you have had, what nearly every clergy- 
 man of our acquaintance has, an invalid wife 
 and hence a clouded home. Paul's Clara is too 
 frank and yet too coy. This life in the par- 
 sonage would kill her by inches, as it has me; 
 that is, if she could ever bring herself to at- 
 tempt its necessary submissiveness, which I 
 doubt. Hence I am so glad that Paul, loving 
 Clara, will not be called to serve his Lord in 
 pulpits. Why, the boy himself has a perfect
 
 1 8 DOLLARS Ai\ T D DUTY. 
 
 passion for home, for familiar localities, for the 
 same old hills looking in every morning at his 
 windows, the same dear, neighborly hearts about 
 him from year to year! It is a birth-mark. I 
 gave it him ! I have been homesick for years ! 
 Were it ever so humble, an abiding place! a 
 home which births and deaths had made sa- 
 cred ! But, Sylvester, think of it : the birth- 
 chambers and death-chambers of our children 
 are scattered all over this wide New England. 
 It is a day's journey from one lonely little 
 
 grave to another " 
 
 " Julia, Julia ! " he broke in, catching her hot 
 cheeks in his two cold palms. " Do not continue ! 
 I can not bear it ! And besides, though perhaps 
 you have not thus far, yet you may overstep 
 this limit and say some wicked thing : something 
 that our loving Lord could not overlook. God 
 knows how true and right your great loving 
 heart is ! and that no mortal ear save mine has 
 ever heard your plaint ; that you have never 
 suffered our children to harbor one adverse 
 thought, but have taught them high esteem and 
 unspeakable veneration for their father's calling 
 in the world. Heaven bless you, and bless 
 heaven for you ! But for you I should have 
 long ago turned my back upon it, this effort
 
 MY BEAUTIFUL BOY. 1 9 
 
 to live for others, to do them good in spite of 
 themselves, this contest with penury, contest with 
 fickle helpers, contest with false brethren in the 
 church, and contest most severe with my own 
 selfish heart ! It is well enough to speak out 
 between ourselves ; but we are too self -respect- 
 ful to speak out to the world. Neither the 
 church nor the world has ever known from our 
 lips what we have suffered. We look to God. 
 We please not men, but God. And he holds 
 our crowns in his hands ! " 
 
 Men but the idea of it, in this staid 
 minister of the parish ! the idea that he was 
 poetic enough, or boyish enough, or human 
 enough, he played the lover so in smoothing 
 her gray hair and twining its stray locks about 
 his fingers, in calling her the fond old nick- 
 names, in telling her what would lose its luster 
 if inked down here, how great was his affection 
 for her. Why ? Had he some blow in reserve ? 
 
 " But for all that, Sylvester, I have never 
 been the ideal minister's wife, as Clara could 
 not be. See now, the preacher's wife should 
 have iron nerves, not human nerves. She should 
 have a slow, strong heart, not a fluttering thing 
 like Clara's and mine. She should have a 
 moveless countenance, or, better still, a natural
 
 20 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 smile, a smile born on her, as some do have, 
 and which is always in place without thinking, 
 when one is combing her hair as when she 
 stands in the church-porch : and not a poor 
 human face that is clouded with a pain or dull 
 with thought and beaming only when, sincere, 
 the heart is full of light." 
 
 " I protest that you have made a good min- 
 ister's wife." 
 
 " No. I have been too much devoted to my 
 own children, my own husband, my own home." 
 
 " We have had five comfortable years in this 
 village, Julia. You have made this little house 
 very pretty." His eye wandered about the neat 
 room, out into the small cottage-like apartments 
 which opened one into another along the strag- 
 gling and quaint old structure, wherein every 
 nook and corner bore some mark of that fine 
 taste at adornment so natural to his wife and 
 daughters. 
 
 " Yes, indeed," she responded, following his 
 glances and welcoming their compliments. " And 
 you have done wonders for our little lawn, with 
 the trees and vines. How pretty they are in this 
 frost ! I pronounce it. the most tasty cottage 
 in the village, which fact some people in the 
 parish do not like. It is a noble view, is it
 
 MY BEAUTIFUL BOY. 21 
 
 not ? " Her face kindled, as she gazed through 
 the now transparent windows, down upon the 
 winding highway, bordered with white dwellings, 
 and away along the icy river with its clouds of 
 steam rolling up from the falls. Crosston lay 
 at their feet. 
 
 The pastor sat so intently regarding her, as 
 she now arose and began to tug his study chair 
 into its proper place by the desk, and as she 
 playfully turned over his papers, remarking, 
 
 "Your sermon-skeleton is waiting." 
 
 He responded, " You are happier, now, 
 Julia ? " 
 
 " Yes, I have talked out my burden of bright 
 hopes for the present. Are you happy ? " This 
 last, with a sudden look of slightest apprehen- 
 sion. That dubious shade was on his face 
 again. 
 
 " Paul is God's creature more than ours, my 
 wife," said he, gravely. " God loves him, does 
 he not, more than " 
 
 " Stop, Sylvester ! " She turned on him a 
 pleading gaze. " Do not tempt me to answer 
 that last question ! " 
 
 "Our son has made you his confidante in all 
 things, Julia ? " he resumed, gently smiling 
 through the cloud which was now unmistakable.
 
 22 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 "My husband, have you something grave, 
 dread " but she did not say dreadful "some- 
 thing to say to me, out of Paul's mind, that 
 he has not said to me? something that I have 
 always expected to hear, yet hoped I might 
 never hear ? " 
 
 " Unless it was God's will, my wife." 
 
 " Unless unless it was God's will ! " She 
 spoke all the words bravely; just as she had 
 lived bravely and obediently ; and in that one 
 sentence revealed more than volumes of the 
 matchless character that she was. 
 
 He knew her. He had not walked these 
 years at this woman's side without learning what 
 springs to touch. He read all the inward strug- 
 gle of this beloved form now trembling at the 
 arm of his chair and leaning hard on his shoul- 
 der. And he knew, too, what reply she would 
 make if he spoke Paul's secret to her with his 
 next breath. But he had not the heart to speak 
 out now. No, not on this morning when her 
 shattered strength had given him more than usual 
 alarm ; not this morning, when he had seen 
 her air-castles in the sun and her joy in them, 
 as he had never seen them. He was puzzling 
 himself how to drop the theme and leave her 
 in the sunshine.
 
 MY BEAUTIFUL BOY. 
 
 "Has God called him?" 
 
 Every word of her question throbbed. He felt 
 their thrill to the tips of her thin fingers that 
 pressed upon his shoulder. She stood indescriba- 
 bly heroic, as he at least could see her. Doubt- 
 less many, doubtless most, of those who read of 
 her, can see nothing heroic about her. They 
 will fail to understand what it is all about, her 
 deep emotion, a little disappointment. Her son 
 is to be a minister. Half the pious world 
 "would be glad to see a son of theirs a cler- 
 gyman ; would be proud of him ! " Glad with 
 the shallow gladness of the uninformed ; proud 
 with the foolish vanity of those who do not, 
 can not know what that vain word means when 
 coupled with such a work in life. Incredible, 
 that a prophet's wife should not desire to be a 
 prophet's mother ? Then ye will be blind to the 
 majestic sacrifice, as no doubt ye are to many 
 other deeds of self-submission in such lives ; 
 blind to the beauty of Julia Havens' pious res- 
 ignation. For she was struggling to be able to 
 reconcile the gladness with the sadness of one 
 who knew a prophet's honor and a prophet's 
 load. Heaven help her in this moment ! Surely 
 she will find some one kind reader of her story 
 who will also read aright her heart. The joy,
 
 24 DOLLARS AND DU7Y. 
 
 fc he sorrow, the hope, the fear; and the disap- 
 pointment, latest of many. 
 
 Sylvester Havens sprang out of his chair and 
 folded her in his arms. He would not, for her 
 precious life, have answered her that day ! For- 
 give him, if you think there is any thing to be 
 forgiven, for he evaded reply by asking, 
 
 " Paul would surely have told you, mother, 
 would he not, had he felt that God called him 
 to be a minister?" 
 
 Without doubt Julia Havens would have in- 
 sisted on a plain answer to her plain asking, 
 but that a pretty girl, "Paul's Clara," suddenly 
 appeared upon the threshold, having stolen on 
 them unannounced.
 
 A GRAVE CRISIS. 2$ 
 
 A GRAVE CRISIS. 
 
 tt T I came over on papa's errand." 
 
 -* "My dear child, good morning. No, do 
 not fear that you ever intrude, " said Mrs. 
 Havens, turning and attempting to recover her 
 composure. 
 
 "Papa sent me to say," the young girl stam- 
 mered out, in charming confusion over her up- 
 lifted muff, for she could not of course be 
 deceived and knew that she had intruded, "to 
 say that Mr. Havens was to take any one of 
 our horses." 
 
 "And replace my one lame beast, calked in 
 yesterday's drifts, Clara," said the pastor, ad- 
 vancing and kissing the ruddy cheek that nestled 
 in its hood of down. "But your father was to 
 accompany me. I greatly depended on his sup- 
 port." 
 
 " Papa has to meet a large customer at the 
 factory, I was to add." She spoke so lightly, 
 as if her errand was nothing. The pastor heard
 
 26 DOLLARS AND DTUY. 
 
 it so heavily, as if her errand was something 
 hard to bear. 
 
 "Is it that church-debt conference?" asked 
 Mrs. Havens in anxious tones. 
 
 "Yes, at Mr. Roache's office this afternoon," 
 was her husband's thoughtful reply. Then turn- 
 ing again to this fair and innocent messsenger, 
 he asked, "And did your papa say nothing 
 more? He may send me a note, later on?" 
 
 "Why, no," was the reply, as she threw back 
 her heavy furs. "Papa said you would know just 
 what would please him, and of course would do 
 it, no matter what the other gentlemen might 
 say. He remarked to mamma, I think he was 
 smoking his morning cigar in the library, with 
 the newspaper, and to be disturbed then always 
 annoys him, you know that he believed he had 
 an appointment with you about the church-debt, 
 which he supposed he should finally have to 
 pay. Papa Norcross was in one of his hard 
 moods. He should not speak as if he owned 
 the church ! " Then she tossed her pretty head 
 and was almost minded to be serious for a mo- 
 ment ; but reconsidering that purpose, as one 
 who never long harbored the disagreeable, she 
 caught up one of Mrs. Havens' hands and 
 kissed it lovingly, all pretty dimpled smiles again.
 
 A GRAVE CRISIS. 
 
 " I know your papa pretty well by this time, 
 my child," said the pastor, seating himself and 
 thoughtfully turning a book, end over end on 
 the desk. 
 
 The wife's look into her husband's face 
 seemed to repeat, "Yes, we know him well. 
 He owns many things. He has many a hard 
 mood and is growing harder as he grows in 
 owning." 
 
 "Does it trouble you," asked Clara Norcross, 
 "that papa puts you off so cavalierly?" 
 
 "You dear little heart," Mr. Havens replied, 
 "you must not read my face so quickly. We 
 had been a little sad over Paul's departure." 
 
 " Because," she continued with spirit, ignoring 
 Paul from whom, by the way, she had a tele- 
 gram that very moment in her muff, " because, 
 if it does, papa shall go with you. He never 
 refuses me. I'll " 
 
 "No, stay"; for she was wrapping her seals 
 about her to fly, the spoiled child of the village 
 autocrat. " You could do nothing. It is an old 
 trouble, this church debt. It is breeding trouble 
 in the church; that's why my countenance fell." 
 
 " Dear, dear ! " said the girl, stamping the 
 small foot, "though mamma and I are members, 
 how little we know of church affairs, or church
 
 28 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 people, save you. It seems as if church affairs 
 irritated everybody lately. They certainly are 
 making papa very cross and unlovely, mamma 
 and I know, and make this home of yours very 
 sad and very lovely, that is, I love you more 
 when I see how much you have to endure." 
 She, herself, looked both vexed and lovely. 
 
 ' But Clara, dear," said the pastor, " I do 
 assure you that there are no happier moments 
 in my whole life than when I am preparing 
 my message, or preaching the word of God ! " 
 
 He spoke so fervently, that the young thing 
 was abashed a little, and then added brightly, 
 "Why do they not Jeave you to that part then? 
 But oh, I know since I Ve been coming here, 
 how small a part that is of what you do, Pas- 
 tor Havens ! This managing, managing, manag- 
 ing people ! " and again she pouted, while her 
 fingers fumbled at that precious telegram, and 
 itched to produce it. 
 
 "Managing, and being managed!" sighed the 
 clergyman, and in the next instant forced a 
 laugh, the dear hypocrite! Indeed, knowing all 
 that he knew, his inward repentance for his 
 outward playfulness was so violent that his fea- 
 tures flushed. 
 
 " Is it something so serious ? " You can never
 
 A GRAVE CRISIS. 29 
 
 deceive a good woman who loves you by a 
 false laugh. 
 
 "Is it a very grave crisis?" These questions 
 were not spoken, but written on the faces of 
 both women. 
 
 " My wife and my child," said the man, " I 
 am heart-sick and discouraged with this matter 
 that is thrown off so lightly on my shoulders 
 by Mr. Norcross. But I do not wonder at Mr. 
 Norcross' action ; that is, in one sense. He is 
 independent, is a man of vast affairs; he gets 
 his neck out. To me this is a most serious 
 day. I can tell you no more now." 
 
 Clara Norcross was the first, because the 
 younger and quicker. She flew to him and, 
 seating herself on his knee, fluttered out her 
 telegram. 
 
 The shrewdest forethought could have availed 
 no better for the peace of a trouble crisis. Of 
 course it instantly engrossed Mrs. Havens and 
 Miss Innocence, its possessor. A telegram is 
 the entrance of a person. This one told of Paul 
 Havens' safe arrival at Amherst College ; nothing 
 more, for fear of the sharp eyes of the village 
 operator, a gossip. Yet with this message 
 Paul was back again, to all intents and purposes 
 on these two affectionate women's tongues. The
 
 30 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 good man, having listened, escaped on its tid 
 ings, and without further cross-examination, from 
 the room. 
 
 While these two women are chattering, a few 
 essential biographical scraps, and a pen-stroke 
 or two of portrait-painting, are in place. 
 
 Of Mrs. Havens, it is enough to say, since 
 it is hoped that the reader has had a fairly 
 good look at her gentle form and loving, weary 
 face, that in these five and twenty years that 
 she had been Sylvester Havens' wife, she had 
 borne him two daughters, now grown to woman- 
 hood, besides this son Paul, the youngest child. 
 She had been an invalid from the rocking of 
 his cradle. It was doubtful if she would ever 
 be any thing else. She was the daughter of a 
 well-known judge of the State of New Hamp- 
 shire, and had enjoyed, in her youth, all the 
 advantages which such a father could lavish 
 upon her. It was supposed that she would in- 
 herit money, whenever the judge died, and this 
 was considered by many wise people a questiona- 
 ble blessing for the young clergyman, her hus- 
 band. But she was saved this " misfortune," 
 some said providentially. The generous judge died 
 poor, which is not uncommon with the generous. 
 The good wife, however, had been wed in love,
 
 A GRAVE CRISIS. 31 
 
 and for love and in love, and home was happy. 
 That she was ever unhappy, worn and broken, 
 though the sunniest invalid you ever saw, were 
 conditions accepted by her, "as the inevitable re- 
 sults of causes from without, ask other minister's 
 wives." You have her own words, and doubtless 
 you would have believed her had you ever 
 heard her speak them, not many ever had. 
 
 Clara Norcross is Mr. Lemuel Norcross' only 
 child. The finest house in this prettiest of New 
 Hampshire villages is her home. Her doting father 
 will give it to her by and bye. He worked 
 very hard for her during many years; that was 
 when she and his now great factory were both 
 in their infancy and childhood. If he works 
 very hard now, and he does, like a slave, it is 
 because his factory drives him. Doubtless he 
 thinks that he is still toiling to provide for this 
 precious girl. He indulges her heart full. She 
 manages the manager of the whole smart vil- 
 lage of Crosston ; yet neither he nor she knows 
 it, for he is so abstracted, and she so artless. 
 She is just as dear to her mother, which is 
 somewhat curious, since her father and mother 
 have grown a thousand miles apart in tastes 
 and likings, late years. This child, favorite of 
 dissimilars, unites them. Her father is a power
 
 32 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 in the church, as he is in every thing in this 
 village. He finds much time for the manage- 
 ment of ecclesiastical affairs, from coal bills to 
 the pastor's sermons. The mother and daughter 
 of a truth live the religion which their husband 
 and father causes to be preached pure, lofty, 
 and Christ-like. Does the manager live it? Is 
 not a manager a manager ? 
 
 Clara Norcross is not very theological. She is 
 simply bright as a gleam of the morning among 
 these granite hills, unselfish and kind in the 
 homes of the poor and the sick, a demure little 
 Miss Propriety, yet a very mischief in all inno- 
 cent fun and jollity, as if it were the first 
 of Christian duties to be glad the pure in 
 heart. 
 
 She is a pretty girl, you see. Perhaps not 
 tall, with every line of her person, standing 
 there in the study, the graceful curve of beauty. 
 Her hair is brown, her eyes are brown, her 
 cheeks are brown and red in a word, she is 
 twenty and perfectly healthy. That makes beauty 
 always if the heart be pure ; but in her, with 
 such features and such form, it is a delicious, a 
 bewitching sort of beauty which Paul Havens 
 longs this very moment to see in real flesh and 
 blood, as he studies her photograph in the dis-
 
 A GRAVE CRISIS. 33 
 
 tant college room. They are to be married next 
 autumn. It is now January. 
 
 "We have set the time, Mamma Havens," 
 said Clara, the instant they were alone. Then 
 promptly, possibly blushing at her own bold- 
 ness with that never-before-spoken title, she 
 buried her face on "Mamma Havens'" shoulder. 
 
 "Who has set the time?" asked the eldei 
 lady, in affected surprise. 
 
 "Paul and I, before he went back," the 
 sounds very faint and muffled. 
 
 "When is it, to an hour? Of course you 
 have it all clown to the small detail of the hour." 
 
 "September loth, Wednesday of the week"; 
 then, with her head thrown suddenly up, and 
 her brown tresses in charming dis-array, her face 
 a vision of coy delight, "at 4 o'clock p. M., in 
 the church!" With which she stood off to study 
 the effect upon her auditor. 
 
 " But, Clara, Paul has n't a cent left, the day 
 he graduates, in July ! " 
 
 An important fact, you would have said ; and 
 the speaker betrayed decided anxiety as she 
 searched the face before her. Miss Norcross' 
 reply might answer the question which her hus- 
 band had . left unanswered, namely : Had Paul 
 heard that awful call to the ministry ?
 
 34 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 " Why, Mrs. Havens," quickly continued Miss 
 Cruse, "money does not trouble that is, I mean, 
 my Paul will not lack," with a bashful laugh. 
 
 " True : but he demurred at your supplying 
 money to a great, capable idler, I know." 
 
 " Yes, indeed ; that is, he hesitated about 
 something and seemed greatly troubled. Papa 
 could not quite make him feel at ease about 
 coming into the office." 
 
 " Is he coming into your father's office ? " 
 
 The question sprung out as if it were a spark 
 from the dear lady's gray eyes. 
 
 "Why why, my precious friend," answered 
 the startled girl, " are you not pleased ? You 
 surely do not feel irritated by papa's provoking 
 ways, to that degree ? " And the playful girl 
 grew older and more dignified by seconds. 
 
 "No, no. Not that. That is, we shall love 
 all of Paul's other home. But I can not explain 
 just why I am so eager to know if Paul has 
 arranged to be your papa's partner. Do n't ask 
 me why." 
 
 "Yes, he has. We go to Europe, to Lyons, 
 on papa's business for a year. Paul will learn 
 faster there, papa thinks, some things about the 
 silks. Oh, dear ! I do n't understand that part 
 of it. But, after three mortal hours in the
 
 A GRAVE CRISIS. 35 
 
 library with papa, Paul came out into the draw- 
 ing room to mamma and me, and his hands 
 were cold as ice ; poor fellow ! " 
 
 " Did he seem happy ? " 
 
 " How could a mere college boy be very 
 happy, deeply agitated by three hours' business 
 in that terrible smoking room ? " 
 
 " Then he was not happy, do you mean ? " 
 
 " Not that, either, dear Mrs. Havens. He 
 said, 'I have sealed my fate,' and kissed mamma 
 and me in a wild sort of way." 
 
 " And your mamma said ? " continued Mrs. 
 Havens, smiling encouragingly. 
 
 " Mamma said, ' I am truly thankful to Heaven, 
 Paul Havens, that at last a decision has been 
 reached ; thankful both on your own and my 
 daughter's account.' Mamma arose to the 
 occasion, you know, in a solemn way that I 
 never saw her use before. Then she added, in 
 an eccentric vein which I have sometimes seen 
 in mamma, the very absurd remark, ' Paul, I 
 have sometimes thought that you might possibly 
 be a minister.' " The narrator laughed a pretty, 
 though cautious, respectful, and curious little 
 laugh : a ripple that had a world of character 
 in it, one of those sounds that may mean 
 many things.
 
 36 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 Was she also half fearful of such a destiny 
 for her lover ? Did she wish to ask some 
 questions, but dared not ? They simply studied 
 each other's faces for a moment ; then bent 
 eyes on the needle-work which by this time 
 had been whipped out by them both. Needle- 
 work is such a fortress for women. You can 
 grow silent at any convenient time and pretend 
 to be looking for a lost thread, or how to tie 
 a knot. 
 
 After an interval of silence, Mrs. Havens was 
 the first to put up her head over the breast- 
 work of her sewing and ask, not seeming very 
 curious, " And what did dear Paul say to 
 that ? " 
 
 " About becoming a clergyman ? He made no 
 reply." 
 
 "Your mother would have rather liked that?" 
 
 " Yes, possibly, mamma is so good." Then, 
 after biting a thread, " Mamma says we are 
 perfumed with factory oil. A clergyman is 
 highly genteel, my mother often says. But of 
 course what the life may really be " 
 
 "Your mamma does not know," said Mrs. 
 Havens, as she gave the fabric in her lap a 
 great turn over, as if it was the popular opin- 
 ion concerning the delights of a clergyman's
 
 A GRAVE CRISIS. 37 
 
 life. Then she added one question, nearer to 
 the point, though apparently equally careless of 
 the answer. "And your father, what would he 
 have said had a clergyman's son, himself intend- 
 ing to be one, asked his little girl's hand ? " 
 
 " Papa ? The idea ! He has even been calling 
 me his boy. He wants a son to take this 
 precious factory. Why, the factory is papa's 
 monument that and the village. He would die 
 broken-hearted if Paul should I mean, had 
 chosen the ministry ! " 
 
 The next question, " And what would you 
 have said, had Paul decided on the ministry?" 
 this, Mrs. Havens did not ask. She thought, 
 she grew very busy, finding threads, reviewing 
 seams, and scanning her work. Indeed she put 
 on her spectacles, which were becoming to her 
 you would have agreed, and hid behind them. 
 
 "A penny for your thoughts, Mrs. Havens," 
 cried the young lady at length. 
 
 Mrs. Havens' thoughts were very grave ; too 
 much so for expression. She had got thus far 
 in them, 
 
 " My son is in danger. He is picking out a 
 path ; he, heretofore so frank, so direct, so 
 open, he has decided upon one thing to please 
 Mr. Norcross ; he has certainly intimated quite
 
 3 8 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 another thing of late, in his lover's talks about 
 his possible future with this girl. He has said 
 something to my husband that his father was 
 very glad, oh, so piously glad to hear. He has 
 gone back to college, having kept silence with 
 me ; this upright young soul, my beautiful boy, 
 is whirling in a tempest ! " 
 
 But not a word escaped Mrs. Havens' lips. 
 The sewing was, fortunately, very much en- 
 tangled. 
 
 " It is mamma with the sleigh. See ! " was 
 the sudden exclamation of Clara, as she arose 
 and beckoned through the window. "You and 
 Nora or Bella ; there are seats for three with 
 mamma. You must ride down into the village 
 with us." 
 
 It was a most grateful escape. What a relief 
 to a mind which knows not which way to step 
 next, is the privilege of stepping off anywhither 
 with the foot. To walk, to ride, to go ! no 
 matter which way; oh, the delight of motion 
 when the counsels of the mind are bound 
 moveless ! 
 
 " New horses ? " exclaimed Nora Havens, a 
 sprightly girl, a black-eyed, petite creature, who 
 was always ready with her house-work done, 
 always ready for whatever promised a jolly hour,
 
 A GRAVE CRISIS. 39 
 
 and always quick to notice and be glad in her 
 friends' good fortunes. " New horses, Clara ? " 
 
 " Yes, love," was the reply, as the three fresh 
 passengers were being greeted by Mrs. Norcross 
 at the block. "New ponies, which papa gave 
 me this very morning." 
 
 "To console you, so sad at parting with my 
 brother, I suppose," said Miss Nora. 
 
 At which they all laughed merrily; except 
 Mrs. Havens, who was almost minded to enter- 
 tain a nervous chill, notwithstanding they all 
 conspired to wrap her warm in the elegant 
 sleigh-robes. 
 
 "Take my foot-bag. It is fur-lined," said 
 Mrs. Norcross. 
 
 Mrs. Havens declined it, thinking, not say- 
 ing, "Paul's feet ! They are amid snares. Will 
 he miss an honest man's way ? " 
 
 "A brilliant morning, Mrs. Havens," resumed 
 the lady at her side. "But the winds are 
 from all quarters and drift this fresh snow. 
 John, do n't drive so fast facing the wind." 
 
 " They blow every which way, ma'am, " an- 
 swered back the privileged old coachman. 
 
 "They swirl and beat about him," thought 
 Mrs. Havens, meaning her son. " Oh, God ! 
 that I only knew ! Hast thou, thou whose
 
 40 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 calls are awful if disobeyed, hast thou called 
 my son ? Has his own heart another choice ? 
 And yonder great, stone factory another? And 
 this wife-to-be another ? His father one wish ? 
 I ? What is my wish but his happiness in 
 doing his duty ? " 
 
 The villagers looked upon the load with 
 envy as the turnout sped along. The proud, 
 black creatures, whose glossy forms turned snow 
 to steam, whose performances pleased their 
 pretty owner till she began to exclaim with 
 the discriminating compliments of a genuine 
 horse-woman; these the village people evidently 
 marked as being new. A mean and jealous 
 watch the people kept on every new luxury 
 that the village lord acquired. 
 
 "And there is our pastor's wife along with 
 'em," said Mrs. Liscom, as she gazed after 
 them from her windows. 
 
 "Yes," added Miss Dorothea Baker, a single 
 woman of well-known age, whose sign in the 
 world was, "DRESSMAKING AND FINE SEWING," 
 "Yes, Sister Liscom, as I was proceeding to 
 communicate, they do say that it is evident 
 that our pastor's family is getting very worldly- 
 minded, in view of the wealth Paul will marry 
 with Clara."
 
 A GRAVE CRISIS 4! 
 
 " I 'm nigh onto sartin' them furs on Nora 
 Havens' back, neow," continued Mrs. Liscom, 
 " was give to her by that Clara Norcross ! " 
 
 " No doubt of it," said Miss Dorothea, very 
 precisely. "The minister's daughters and Clara 
 Norcross, you know I speak as an artist, are 
 the three best-dressed women in church." 
 
 " And we never had no other pastor's folks 
 that the Norcrosses cuddled up to so ! " said 
 Mrs. Liscom. " On the bias, did you say ? 
 Where is that fashion plate ? Them styles are 
 all new to me." She was searching for a 
 high-colored, cheap publication, which purported 
 to give the latest Winter-street fashions, Boston, 
 Mass. Mrs. Liscom, with Dorothea's, help was 
 "fixin' up" a daughter's wardrobe in hopes that 
 "this ere winter won't pass without marryin' her 
 off!" 
 
 But the sleigh-full, mostly joyous, and, though 
 gossipy, gossiping only good things of every body 
 mentioned, whirled onward, oblivious of what 
 the Mrs. Liscoms and Misses Dorothea Bakers 
 were saying. Ah, guileless reader, oblivious ? 
 No, no ; but a thousand, thousand times they 
 had and shall hear it, though, to be sure not 
 for this one happy hour as the ponies fly on 
 their way.
 
 4 2 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 Good Pastor Havens was not so fortunate. 
 He was asking for his mail in the post-office 
 side of the store, which had 1 also its' dry-goods 
 side. Concealed, as the clergyman was, by the 
 great rack of boxes, the deacon on the dry- 
 goods side, buying blankets, did not see him, 
 though the deacon saw the gay sleigh as it 
 flashed past the window. 
 
 " Brother Short," said Deacon Luce, gravely 
 addressing the young merchant, "sech jinin' of 
 a pastor's family with the rich ! It all comes of 
 that son of his 'n a marryin' Brother Norcross' 
 gal." And he shook his head, sincerely distrust- 
 ful of the future. 
 
 "Well, deacon," was Mr. Short's reply, "what 
 possible harm can there be in that ? Besides, I 
 have found Paul Havens a sensible young fellow 
 and he is not our pastor." 
 
 "Much harm, I say. A rich minister you 
 can't manage, you orter know. How much off ? 
 Come, now, you aint agoin' ter charge me full 
 price, bein 's I 'm a brother in the church, are 
 ye ? Ye see, young Brother Short, as how ef 
 Norcross settles on havin' the pastor's son for 
 his 'n, 'tain't noways likely as we '11 get a change 
 of pastors fur years ter cum. Norcross '11 keep 
 'em here."
 
 A GRAVE CRISIS. 43 
 
 " Change ? " exclaimed the merchant, almost 
 hotly "you do not want a change, do you?" 
 
 " No, no, I hain't said so," said the rich old 
 farmer, owner of five hundred acres ; " do n't go 
 fur to say I do ; I only said ef " 
 
 And the rest of the conversation the listener 
 most in interest would not suffer himself to 
 hear. But as he lifted his feet into the bor- 
 rowed Norcross cutter, and resumed his journey 
 to that church-debt conference, poor man, he had 
 to realize a new load. Was the old deacon jeal- 
 ous and discontent ? He had never dreamed of 
 it before. Disturbed by such a trifle ? Not a 
 trifle at all. This engagement of Paul's with the 
 great man's daughter was no trifle. It was a 
 grain of bitter seed, just sown. The village had 
 suspected, feared, guessed, but never known, till 
 within these last few days, and the student's 
 visit nearly over. The church-debt ? That was 
 but a zephyr in comparison with the high winds 
 that might now begin to blow. 
 
 "Trifles, trifles," mused the clergyman, climb- 
 ing the hills and whipping little gashes in the 
 deep snows at the roadside. "Lives are made 
 up of trifles. What matters it to all this church 
 full of people whom Paul marries? Yet, no 
 doubt, the village is buzzing with the news. 

 
 44 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 And Norcross is not very popular is too im- 
 perious." Then, as the runners creaked and 
 groaned along the frosty path, the solitary driver 
 seemed to himself to be holding conversation 
 with these dissonant sounds. 
 
 "Reduced to child's play play play," creaked 
 the runners. 
 
 " What ? my great calling ? " answered the 
 pastor. "I deny it The merchant's bundles 
 become untied, yet he patiently ties the cord 
 again, for gain. These souls of men erratic, 
 they vex me. But shall I not be patient, 
 when it is not for gain, but for the Lord's 
 own?" 
 
 "Impertinent," creaked the runners. 
 
 "A long word for you, that!" was his reply. 
 " Who is free from impertinences ? " 
 
 " It is these small stings that have always 
 fretted the children of th'e parsonage. High- 
 spirited Paul Paul Paul," screamed the run- 
 ners. 
 
 "But my son has heard a Voice," cried the 
 preacher. " If he has not, let him abide among 
 the buyers and sellers. If he has heard even 
 a whisper of the Voice, after a time he will 
 find a hill-top of silence, where the Voice plain- 
 ly speaks as I have now!"
 
 A GRAVE CRISIS. 45 
 
 Indeed, he had reached the height of his 
 mountain road, and the steaming Norcross horse 
 had halted there for rest. 
 
 "Paul shall see, as I do from this spot, these 
 lofty peaks like headlands of the truth ! And 
 my son shall observe how they guard the vales 
 where low down dwell and toil the people. 
 Seeing so far, he shall be patient and glad. 
 Paul shall feel a Breath like the breath of 
 these free winds that seem to me to blow 
 right out of Heaven. Oh, how they wreathe 
 the snows on these silver mountains ! I can 
 discern not a farmer's roof; not a human 
 creature to share this breath with me. It is 
 all mine, mine ! Fresh from God ! These 
 winds, unbound, unchained, give me new 
 strength, and, as it were, an inspiration which 
 I am to carry to the factory huts. Paul, my 
 son, they are a symbol. I will put it in a let-' 
 ter to thee I will tell thee how my heart 
 exults, at times, with the thoughts of our great 
 embassy. I, we, would not exchange our call- 
 ing with the very immortals, shut in Heaven ! " 
 
 And the old man lifted up his voice in 
 song, to the music of the bells, and the run- 
 ners, and the diapason winds among the somber- 
 sheeted fir-trees. A hymn, sung till the frosty
 
 4-6 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 breath that bore it grew faint before the singer's 
 heart had gotten half its utterance. 
 
 "The love of Christ their hearts constrains, 
 And strengthens their unwearied hands." 
 
 It was rapture ! He clapped his hands across 
 his breast more from joy than for warmth. 
 He grew silent only to begin again, calling 
 mightily a favorite couplet, 
 
 " High on his everlasting throne 
 
 The King of Saints his work surveys." 
 
 Not new, you see, but old, very old and for- 
 ever full of fire, these snatches of heroic song. 
 The singer's face was fire-lit within his furs, all 
 hoar with his frosty minstrelsy. 
 
 "Happy, if with my latest breath 
 
 I may but speak his Name ! 
 Preach him to all, and gasp in death, 
 
 Behold, behold the Lamb.' " 
 
 All this Pastor Havens subsequently wrote to 
 Paul. Wrote it ? The ecstasy of such moments 
 can not be written. 
 
 And what said Paul, bending over the letter, 
 in distant college halls?
 
 IN CONFLICT. 47 
 
 III. 
 
 IN CONFLICT. 
 
 U T CAN'T say I envy you." 
 
 -*- " You read father's letter? A dear, noble 
 letter from a peerless man. Yet I have kept it 
 a month from you, my best friend." 
 
 The first speaker was Paul Havens' room-mate 
 at Amherst College, Stephen Crane, a pale- 
 faced, quiet student, who combined great 
 strength of mind with almost a womanly gen- 
 tleness ; whose whole soul was fixed in the pur- 
 pose of a mission in the heart of Africa ; who 
 had written Livingston's Westminster Abbey 
 epitaph in the flyleaf of his pocket Bible, 
 " Who will help to heal this open sore of the 
 world?" and underneath, had accepted, like an 
 answer, his mother's writing of his own name, 
 Stephen Crane. 
 
 Paul Havens loved this man, as he deserved 
 to be loved ; he trusted him as he deserved to 
 be trusted. And Crane had learned what lofty 
 meanings love and trust had in the great heart 
 of his friend.
 
 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 " Why do you decline to envy me ? " asked 
 Havens, stopping in his heavy stride back and 
 forth. 
 
 " Because," replied Crane, pausing in his light 
 and girl-like walk on the other side of the 
 round table, "because look me in the face, 
 Paul you have been a wretched man ever since 
 you made that engagement." 
 
 " Which engagement ? with her ? " The deep 
 voice sank to reverence, and the fine blue eyes 
 turned gently on the mantle picture of Clara 
 Norcross. Havens reached out his hand to the 
 picture with a touch like a caress. 
 
 " You may well ask which engagement, old 
 fellow. Heaven bless you with the girl, say 
 I. I never saw her, but it is a sweet 
 face." 
 
 " A sweet face and a good ! " sa - 'd Paul, toss- 
 ing back his wavy hair, and turning his ruddy 
 countenance. " Say good, Steve ! For Heaven's 
 sake, say a good face ; one to be trusted ; one 
 which would not be a false beacon in this 
 cloudy world." 
 
 " Why, yes, Paul, a good face. She will 
 make a man a good wife and a rich wife." 
 This last in a low and deliberate utterance, 
 which was full of meaning.
 
 IN CONFLICT. 49 
 
 " I understand. I know," cried the other, re- 
 suming his walk, till the floor shook beneath 
 him. " It is the other engagement. I am to 
 be a I promised to be a spinner of silks. 
 Well, well ; is n't that a clean calling ? " 
 
 " You need n't roar at me, you far from happy 
 man ! To spin silks is as honorable as to 
 preach sermons for some men." 
 
 " For some men !" The young fellow flushed 
 till his cheeks seemed burning with the fire 
 from within. "And why not for me? I'll I'll 
 spin silks," and he lifted his great hand 
 clenched, " or do any thing else that a man 
 may do, for her ! " His hand struck the table 
 so that the lamp-light leaped up as if in pain. 
 
 The fragile and the strong confronted each 
 other. The slight form quivered, and its hand 
 had instinctively been lifted to its breast ; all 
 the blood for a moment went out of its loving 
 face, and then with a great surge came back 
 in almost alarming color. Then the eyes filled, 
 and the voice was quite in a sob, as it said, 
 
 " Paul, Paul ! No, no ! You would not do lit- 
 erally any thing for the sake even of the woman 
 you loved ? " 
 
 "Dear old Steve," responded Paul, weighting 
 each word with the deepest fervor, " I am mak-
 
 50 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 ing every body whom I love most miserable ! " 
 He put both hands down hard on the table and 
 gazed into the troubled face of his friend, his 
 own face handsome, sad, wild. 
 
 " Paul Havens, answer me," resumed his friend. 
 " What did you say to your good father ? " 
 
 " God help me," groaned Paul, " one thing to 
 father." 
 
 "And another thing to Clara?" 
 
 " And nothing to my mother ! " 
 
 " And what to your God, sir ? " 
 
 "And a long assenting talk with Mr. Nor- 
 cross ! Kind heaven, where am I ? I seem to 
 be losing my providential way. Oh ! the distress 
 of it, dear Steve ! What is my way out ? " And 
 he began again his heavy strides across the lit- 
 tle dormitory. 
 
 The frail man, halting still by the table, his 
 tender glances following his friend, seemed like 
 a lion's keeper, with love as the chain. He 
 said, " You are a Christian, Paul. Obey God ! " 
 
 " I do n't know if I am. What is a Christian 
 in these days ? The air is full of so many isms 
 that " 
 
 " Oh, my brother ! " It was a veritable cry 
 of anguish. " Would you escape that way out ? " 
 
 " I know what you mean again," was the an-
 
 IN CONFLICT 51 
 
 swer, and the speaker addressed the floor beneath 
 his pacing feet. "Bred as I have been, in a 
 parsonage ; zealous as I have been in this col- 
 lege through all my course for our class prayer- 
 meetings and all high-toned fidelity to the old 
 faith ; a debater, a recognized champion for 
 orthodoxy in the club ; that I, whom many of 
 you have looked to as a teacher, at whose 
 Christian character no man, I have hoped, could 
 sneer, not of the strong oh, the conceit of 
 it ! should turn my face up with a doubt writ- 
 ten on it ! And yet," pronouncing the words 
 very slowly and almost fiercely, "I do!" He 
 suited the action to the words, his broad chest 
 thown out, and his hands locked behind his 
 back, confronting Crane. 
 
 "Doubt what, Paul? For instance that your 
 own good father is an honest man ? " Quickly 
 the slight form almost wound itself like a vine 
 about this oak. Clinging to his friend's shoulder 
 and speaking in a now uncontrolled gush of 
 tears, young Crane went on : " You can not 
 doubt that your father has been serving a real 
 God, all these years ; can not doubt that a liv- 
 ing Christ has ever be.en walking just before 
 him in his life of sacrificial devotion to the 
 Christian ministry; can not believe that he, and
 
 52 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 I, and all the hosts of them, have been, shall 
 be, following a myth in obeying this calling, 
 leading Voice?" And then, in sobs, this broth- 
 er's voice was for a moment hushed upon that 
 shoulder. 
 
 The shoulder did not resent. It simply re- 
 plied, "My father? That noble, that heroic, 
 that almost adorable man ? I say, Crane, it is 
 the very thought of what he has suffered that 
 almost sours me. You were not born and bred 
 in a parsonage ; you do not know the mean in- 
 sensibility of many to kindness ; the dull yawn- 
 ing over truths uttered from the very heart ; 
 nor the rude impertinence with family affairs that 
 stings a delicate nature which honest blows 
 could not dismay. You do not know the chagrin 
 of pinching want repaying labors and rewarding 
 talents capable of earning luxury but you will 
 know ; you will hear men freely express the 
 opinion that the ministry is the lap of luxury ; 
 that it is, almost universally, about the only vo- 
 cation in which its followers could get a decent 
 living. Ah, my father ! Such a man ! Do not 
 think that he has ever answered back to such 
 of the people as complain ! Not a word, the 
 silent hero ! But I have rebuked them for him, 
 more than once."
 
 IN CONFLICT. 53 
 
 " But, Paul Havens," continued the brotherly 
 face now uplifted, " that is not my question. 
 You do not deny your Lord. You have told 
 me of that boyhood's hour when you felt that 
 you, too, were forgiven; that hour " 
 
 "Hush!" The shoulder shook now; it grew 
 soft as a pillow. Unutterable memories were at 
 work within. The vision all came in a mo- 
 ment that boyhood's hour, that scene in his 
 father's study, when the greatest of all ques- 
 tions had been asked of his soul, as, sooner or 
 later, it is asked of all souls that nameless 
 question of the soul's duty unto God. There is 
 no single theological term that does not cramp 
 it ; therefore, let us use not one of them. He 
 reviewed it all the dusk of evening, and the 
 only light the embers in the grate. The long, 
 long conference begun with the sun shining in 
 upon the preacher and his troubled son ; the 
 open Bible which they had been turning, leaf 
 by leaf; the overthrow of doubts as if a for- 
 tressed city had been taken ; and then, at last, 
 the two upon their knees, the preacher and "his' 
 little boy" of sixteen years, with those prayers 
 in the twilight, and the peace in "the great 
 light " which was neither from candle nor sun ! 
 
 Paul Havens threw his arm about his friend;
 
 54 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 he pressed his friend's head to his own breast 
 and stroked its locks softly, saying nothing. But 
 his hot cheeks felt a dew that cooled them. 
 
 After a little, as they had become seated, the 
 chapel clock, high up in its great tower, striking 
 out the hour of midnight, started them both, the 
 one from his reveries, the other from his prayers. 
 
 "But all this does not settle my questions," 
 resumed Paul, " I am not fit to be a minister ! " 
 
 "It is not mine to speak of your heart-fitness, 
 my dear fellow," promptly answered Crane. " I 
 foresee that you have a long road, and a hard, 
 to traverse before you settle that problem of 
 heart-fitness." 
 
 " Yes, heart-fitness ; and what does the world 
 of our future auditors, asleep in these village-beds, 
 just now, or just come from the theatres, bound 
 for city-beds, what do they know of the heart- 
 agony by which ministers are made ? Not one in 
 ten thousand in the churches, good deacons, pious 
 matrons, and joyous youth, could understand my 
 frame of mind. If they should ever come to 
 know it, you may be sure I should never get a 
 call to a pastorate. No, not men of my stamp, 
 but of yours, are cut out, as they term it, for 
 pulpits." 
 
 "Still, I say," with the emphasis of undisturbed
 
 IN CONFLICT. 55 
 
 conviction on the pronoun, " that a giant like you 
 can live where I shall break, and then go up 
 higher to my rest. You not fitted ? You, who 
 draw men after you ; who win all men's love 
 and provoke no man's hate but the mean man's ; 
 you, who surpass us all in brilliancy of mental 
 powers ; you, a born orator, which is to you, I 
 do believe, like a birth-mark, for they say there 
 is such a thing ; and a pastor's wife is forever 
 preaching for him as she listens to him with 
 her very heart in her throat, that you are 
 not fitted, if only your heart was right?" 
 
 " Steve, let me set you right in one respect," 
 responded Paul. "I have accused myself too 
 severely. I have not intentionally compromised 
 my manhood. If I seem to myself to have taken 
 up contradictory vows, in speaking with father, 
 Clara, Mrs. Norcross, and and, my God, it is, 
 I do solemnly now assert, only a seeming. I 
 have thought myself decided in each instance, 
 for the moment. Oh, pitiful heavens ! That is 
 my problem, returned to me again. What shall 
 I do?" 
 
 " I am thoroughly worn out for to-night, 
 Paul," was Crane's reply, as he chafed his fore- 
 head. " I must go to bed. I am not strong like 
 you. But you will yet see the light."
 
 56 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 " Steve, forgive me. Go to bed. I '11 go walk 
 out on the campus. The moon is shining very 
 clear. Good night ; God bless you. I hope you 
 may be asleep when I come in." 
 
 Paul thrust back into his pocket a letter from 
 Clara Norcross, part of which he had intended 
 to bring before his monitor, and putting on his 
 coat went softly out of the room. 
 
 Sleep, which this absolutely perfect physical 
 frame always trifled with, was now as powerless 
 over him as over one of the thousand peeping 
 stars in the winter sky. Havens pulled out the 
 letter from Clara. He read it again, by light 
 of the full moon. It was a pretty girlish invi- 
 tation to join her father and herself for a week's 
 holiday in Boston. 
 
 That is, the Boston rendezvous was the ex- 
 cuse for this particular letter, the third within 
 a week, and one extra ; but Boston was frilled 
 and plaited all about with the graceful and 
 becoming utterances of a bright girl's affection, 
 with here and there a brilliant flash of com- 
 ment on village things, the world in general, 
 and the reader in particular. Havens had 
 hardly read its first page, standing there in the 
 broad, deserted hall, using both moonbeams and 
 lamp-light from the smoky, ancient burner,
 
 IN CO AFFLICT. 57 
 
 which some readers will remember, before his 
 handsome features began to relax their iron 
 lines. He soon smiled like one resting after 
 toil. A letter can do that for a man. A letter 
 is often better than bed or bread. 
 
 " To introduce me to our city folks ? " He 
 talked to the letter very softly, yet aloud. 
 "That means to show off her lover, the witch! 
 She is like my mother and sisters, not ashamed 
 of my broad shoulders, if I am no society man." 
 
 Being a young man, he confessed to the usual 
 physical prowess and its accompanying pleasant 
 self-consciousness. He contemptuously faced the 
 keen wind that howled through the college 
 grounds and buffeted with his open coat in the 
 doorway. Ah, those winds that "went through 
 college," from front to back doors ! 
 
 "I must be prepared to sing, like a sopho- 
 more, to her playing a college song or two," he 
 went on. " Certainly, you charmer ! And there 
 will be evenings out enough, and dancing to 
 see. Being engaged, as we are, it is no blush- 
 ing matter if my little almost-wife heaven bless 
 the child suggests that I do not crush my 
 dress-suit into a bag, but bring a trunk ! " 
 
 He laughed aloud, with the male delight of 
 being looked after in such conjugal minuteness,
 
 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 It is doubtless well-nigh the most delightful sen- 
 sation in the world, the sensation of being 
 cared for, like a married man, which an engaged 
 young fellow receives at first like a shock, 
 every now and then, from the demure, young 
 thing, his affianced. To her, however, it comes 
 natural enough, no doubt. 
 
 He took time to appropriate this. He watched 
 the changeful silhouettes of aged branches against 
 the face of the moon, and saw her face, repeat- 
 edly, in those changeful lines. He followed the 
 truant winds, as they flew far out over the 
 sleeping village and lost themselves on the icy 
 surface of the distant river. He stared at Mount 
 Tom and Mount Holyoke, grim watchers, who 
 lay half dozing in the argent light. Then his 
 eye was caught by a long silver wreath of steam 
 that reposed above the body of a passing mid- 
 night train. The train, bound city-ward, recalled 
 him to the letter and its errand. 
 
 " Her cousins will be curious enough, no doubt, 
 she says, as to the country minister's son. 
 Clara, have a care what you say ! " But his 
 scrutiny between the lines reassured him, as it 
 had a dozen times before, the ambitious fellow ! 
 or was it the honor-thy-father-and-mother that 
 was in him ? Both, thank heaven ! a lofty
 
 IN CONFLICT. 59 
 
 self-respect, an almost reverent regard for his 
 sire. 
 
 The letter: "A week of decided rest for my 
 book-worm ; from the cloisters to the drawing 
 room." 
 
 Paul: "That's sensible! But in my frame of 
 mind, will it help me ? Still, problems decided 
 in a cloister are never wisely decided. I have 
 never seen much of this wealthy society of the 
 city world, where my dear girl is so familiar." 
 
 The letter: "The theatre and the opera sea- 
 son will be at full height, my student." 
 
 Paid: " O tempora, O mores ! The deacon's 
 daughter ! And all her city friends are orthodox 
 church members, she has told me. This is New 
 England Puritanism, in the year 18 . But of 
 course, I forget: every body might go to the 
 opera, I'll stop at the opera, every body 
 except the preacher. How innocent she is 
 about all this. Yet, I do know that she is the 
 very soul of Yankee prudence and propriety. 
 And her piety ? Why, ask all the poor of 
 her father's village. This theatre and opera 
 business it is a question of atmospheres, per- 
 haps. There is one atmosphere in the city 
 home, and another in the New England country 
 parsonage. I have breathed only one. I will go
 
 60 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 down with her and breathe the other for a week. 
 I am not a minister yet, at any rate. I am a 
 simple senior who has heard a Voice!" 
 
 He spoke with an upturned face, as if some 
 window in the heavens might almost have been 
 expected to open with rebuke, or invitation. He 
 stood long silent, deeply stirred again. Then he 
 thrust the letter in his bosom and stalked out 
 into the solitude that lay on college hill. 
 Whither he walked he could not tell. What 
 were his thoughts could not be written. Few, 
 even in the ministry, could understand them if 
 written. His friend, Stephen Crane, for instance, 
 could not. Here and there a clergyman who 
 could ; and these rare ones are not the least 
 among the disciples in the world's modern pulpits. 
 
 When he returned at length, once more under 
 the smoking hall lamp, he read from the letter: 
 
 The letter: "And now, dear Paul, upon my 
 knees, before I sleep, I put my wishes for you 
 into shape of prayers. Wishes are nothing ; 
 prayer is every thing. May our dear Saviour 
 make you more and more just like himself. Our 
 Jesus, Paul, for I never pray to him but I re- 
 member how your own frank words, even in our 
 lovers' tryst, first led me to adore him. Good- 
 night"
 
 IN CONFLICT. 6 1 
 
 He kissed the letter, and went up to a 
 troubled sleep, after hours of a whirlwind not 
 yet blown out of his sky. 
 
 Of course he went to Boston. It was three 
 days later only, that he presented himself at the 
 junction, and soon found the drawing-room car 
 which had just brought his heart from the North. 
 
 " Right this way, my boy," exclaimed Mr. Nor- 
 cross from the platform, with actually some thing 
 like a warm welcome. In fact, the business-hard- 
 ened little man, with a great head, was de- 
 cidedly proud of the fine-looking young fellow, 
 physically in such contrast with himself. With 
 cordial courtesy, and a good humor that always 
 made his coming like a bracing breeze, Havens 
 drew himself up on the step, and together they 
 entered the apartment. 
 
 " You are the best of boys," she said, having 
 given his lips as good as they sent, for the first 
 time in her father's presence. " I was afraid 
 those horrid senior studies would be in your 
 way." Then she nestled down into her becom- 
 ing wraps, with luxurious comfort, and began to 
 purr at him. 
 
 Such delightful little confidences, with now 
 and then a seriousness as became a sensible 
 girl, but mostly pretty nothings with which we
 
 62 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 busy our tongues when our eyes wish to be free 
 to admire one whom we hold dear. While the 
 wheels were rolling and her tongue was running, 
 she was taking in every thing about him, from 
 his good clothes, to his temper and mood. She 
 decided that he was happy to be with her. 
 That was enough. 
 
 While the wheels pounded along the ice-locked 
 earth, while the garlands of steam were being 
 looped and trailed across the wintery fields, 
 while the luxury within wrought frost-work air- 
 castles on the window panes, Paul Havens, the 
 poor-born preacher's son, was actually thrilling 
 with the sense of the affluent hour. It was not 
 the vulgar love of money, but the high-bred 
 consciousness of plenty. Who can describe it 
 but the sensitive soul which has all its life felt 
 the rasping need of close economy. 
 
 It was not that the parsonage life had ever 
 felt a pinch of want. Not so, thank thrift ! 
 There was always a sweet loaf and always a 
 tasty garment. In the Norcross home, however, 
 an abundant plenty. Paul never entered it but 
 he seemed to encounter that unfamiliar atmos- 
 phere of inexhaustable plenty. He felt it now, 
 in Clara's presence. Every want can be supplied. 
 No more a counting of costs, a turning or a
 
 IN CONFLICT 63 
 
 twisting for honesty. With this woman's hand 
 in his, it was probable that never again while 
 he lived need he know what it cost to subsist 
 a week, a term or , a year. All the refined 
 tastes of a cultured gentleman could be pursued 
 to gratification. There need be, moreover, no 
 limit to the best and truest impulses of his 
 generous heart. 
 
 " How strange it seems at times, Clara," he 
 said, " that you, and all this, have come to me. 
 Think how much more my father deserves it." 
 
 "Dear pastor Havens," she responded tenderly. 
 " But then, ministers have their own reward, I 
 suppose." 
 
 Paul turned a startled look at her ; but that 
 she was innocent he saw in a moment. Yet 
 the arrow stuck for almost all the rest of the 
 way. He managed, however, to conceal it. 
 
 Then she spared him for a while to her 
 father, who had gone into the smoking-room ; 
 meanwhile she sat in perfect happiness, realizing 
 her delight in him all the more that he was 
 out of sight yet within call. When the gentle- 
 men returned at length, her joy grew stronger; 
 yet she still sat dreaming, gazing out of dark- 
 ling windows, on the long, low flashes of the 
 scattered street-lamps' fire.
 
 64 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 "We are nearly at our journey's end, Clara," 
 said Paul, rousing her. 
 
 " Dear old Boston town," she replied, still 
 dreaming, yet surrendering her hand. "You 
 know it well, Paul?" 
 
 " Yes, its streets, its walls, its libraries." 
 
 "But not its homes, very well, you monk. 
 You have managed to see many cities, in your 
 philosopher way ? " 
 
 "Yes, Clara, from here to San Francisco, when 
 I need vacations, in the employ of the Govern- 
 ment Board of Civil Engineers, you know." 
 
 "And Paul, say ; there is nothing like dear, 
 delightful Boston, is there ? Papa, see here." 
 He put a third head in the group. " Why can't 
 we, I mean Paul and I, manage to have a Boston 
 house for the winters, as well as the nice, coun- 
 try home up where his factories will be? I 
 mean after we return from France, of course." 
 So that was set in motion. 
 
 Meanwhile the train had halted, and there 
 was a white- whiskered, courtly little gentleman 
 with a by-no-means plain-faced, but rather courtly 
 girl upon his arm, both of whom were greeting 
 them cordially and handing them into the carriage. 
 
 " Why, Uncle," cried Clara, after the introduc- 
 tions, which were hard to manage in the midst of
 
 IN CONFLICT. 65 
 
 the hearty and familiar family salutations, and 
 Yankee questions, "Uncle, you did not know I 
 was to bring Mr. Havens along?" 
 
 " Oh, yes I did, or rather Puss, here, told me. 
 1 '11 not crowd you. My own coupe" is here also. 
 By the way," and he put his mouth to her ear, 
 with a little pat on her shoulder, " What a splen- 
 did looking fellow he is ! I say that ; but Puss, 
 here, well you know your cousin has high notions. 
 Good heart has Puss. Let her read him as she 
 will, and never you mind. He's fine." 
 
 " What is all this privacy, Bill ? " inquired the 
 other Mr Norcross. " We are hungry." 
 
 And away went the vehicles, chasing each other 
 through the cow-paths of the old into the straight 
 streets, at length, of the new Boston. 
 
 " Ah, the luxury of it : this senior ease and 
 leisure," thought Paul, giving his hair a brush 
 in the elegant chamber assigned him by the 
 host in, person, and contriving somehow to await 
 Clara's emergence from the door across the hall. 
 " This being granted leave of absence on your 
 own recognizance, and few questions asked by 
 the Prex ! This being treated as a man grown 
 at last, and not as a boy at school ! And to 
 be here in this stimulating city, with a week of 
 it, the guest of congenial people ; and so cor-
 
 66 DOLLARS AND DUTY 
 
 dially received by them, and with her if only 
 one's mind were at rest ! " 
 
 " The young lady says, sir, will you wait for 
 her before going down to the library," said the 
 black porter, appearing at Paul's door, ajar with 
 his rap. " And a letter for you, sir," 
 
 "Certainly." And while he tore open his let- 
 ter, he finished his soliloquy. " Mind at ease, 
 and in the senior year ? What senior year ever 
 made good its early promises of delightful ease 
 and calm vacations ? A man ? Yes, indeed, or 
 on the the threshold of it, and you realize the 
 stern fact of it so sturdy! Doubtless, that is 
 the very purpose of the vacations, that a fel- 
 low may try his sail down close to the outer 
 bar and look over at the open sea. That is, 
 with men who have a purpose in life ; with all 
 but the rich fellows, to whom college is but a 
 bouquet in the button-hole. It is not strange, 
 I suppose, that I am inclined to be grave as 
 a judge ; and then, too, that Voice ! But yet," 
 with a shrug of his shoulders, half desperately, 
 "here's for a week of brightness. Ah!" 
 
 He had been reading Stephen Crane's kind 
 letter and not regarding what he read till sud- 
 denly he came across this: 
 
 The letter'. "I should have had my wits
 
 IN CONFLICT. 67 
 
 about me and recognized the name of your 
 host, Brother William Norcross. He is a part- 
 ner in your sick man's Boston business, and 
 very wealthy, all of which you know I believe ; 
 but, better far than that, as perhaps you do not 
 know, he is an active friend of foreign missions, 
 the New England director in the Home Board ; 
 and poor, little I have even been admitted to a 
 conference with him in which I tried to enlist 
 his sympathy in behalf of heroic Livingston's 
 land. I understand him to be a very influential 
 church man. I do not feel so anxious about 
 you, now that I recall these facts." 
 
 "For me?" asked Clara, all radiant as she 
 approached at this moment, and Paul handed 
 her the letter pointing to the above passage. 
 " Yes, that 's Uncle William to perfection," she 
 continued as she read. Then clinging to his 
 arm as they slowly descended the noble stairs, 
 to which she called attention by the way, re- 
 marking, 
 
 "Isn't this a perfectly, lovely house?" 
 " Magnificent ! " And he detained her at the 
 turn of the flight before a Bierstadt, on whose 
 grand mountains the most glorious of lights 
 was shed from a rose window, artificially illu 
 minated at night.
 
 68 DOLLARS AND DUTY, 
 
 " Yes," she continued, " Uncle William is full 
 of church affairs. I suppose he would have 
 liked you full as well, Paul, though he does 
 indeed admire you as it is, you must know, if 
 you had been a young minister." 
 
 Paul flushed again. But, the innocent, she 
 meant no more now than she did by a similar 
 reference on the train. She went on chattering 
 while he seemed to be looking very critically at 
 the picture, "This house is a very home to 
 ministers. All of them know uncle, you may 
 be sure. And of course, though he really can 
 not in fact, yet he seems to know all of them. 
 No doubt we shall find one or two missionaries, or 
 some other of the dear souls, I mean the 
 clergymen, in the library. Come, we must go 
 down there." 
 
 " Yes, Clara. But you know I never met 
 any of them, and it is not yet late ; see, here 's 
 a fine De Hass. Ah, the master ! " They were 
 at the next turn of the marbles. " Your 
 cousin, now." 
 
 " Puss ? Why Puss is the greatest minister's 
 girl in the world ! I mean that that child " 
 
 "Child?'! broke in Paul with a smile. 
 
 "To be sure; she is just twenty-nine. I 
 know," laughed Clara. "But as I was saying,
 
 IN CONFLICT. 69 
 
 my cousin Fidie, otherwise Fidelia, otherwise Puss 
 and that 's nearest right, for she is the slyest, 
 most cat-like good girl," with sincere emphasis 
 on the good, "that you ever met well she will 
 marry a clergyman, provided," very strong 
 emphasis on provided, with a nod of the pretty 
 head, "she ever finds one to her mind." 
 
 "That is?" 
 
 "That is, very, very manly, pious, and most 
 exceedingly intellectual, orthodox to a tittle, as 
 uncle says ; one who will be eminent in the 
 profession ; but, most of all, submissive to her. 
 See?" 
 
 " Quick ! A turn down into the conservatory 
 for a moment. The others ? " 
 
 "Then there is Aunt Matilda, the sweetest, 
 dearest mother in the world ; mother to us all, 
 and especially to all the clergymen who come here; 
 generally has one, an invalid, in the house, that 
 he may be near some city physician eminent in 
 throat practice. But she is a lovely woman. 
 She dresses plainly but richly, and always 
 reminds me of what a queen in the mourning 
 should be ; though for that matter, she always 
 wears the loveliest smile." 
 
 "There are two others, I 've heard you speak 
 of?"
 
 7 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 "Yes, cousin Minnie: she's eighteen, just two 
 years behind me. She 's a lovely girl, but a 
 fly-away. She has a class, though, in Puss's 
 Mission School, down at North End. They go 
 in the family carriage, in fine style every Sab- 
 bath afternoon. Puss is superintendent." 
 
 "And the only son?" 
 
 "That's Andrew. Named after the great gov- 
 ernor, though before he was governor, when he 
 was simply 'a splendid type of a man,' as papa 
 and uncle always say, and when they only knew 
 that he would sometime be governor. The three 
 gentlemen were fast business friends." 
 
 "You chatterer," whispered Paul impatiently, 
 "we must go in. Tell me a word of Andrew." 
 
 " Here he comes down the hall," said she 
 suddenly looking past a bower of exotics. Ad- 
 vancing with a smartly ringing heel, a wholesome- 
 faced young gentleman now appeared among the 
 shrubbery. " He 's all common sense and busi- 
 ness; in the Boston house; your partner." 
 
 And with that word she introduced the two 
 young men ; immediately following which the 
 party joined the family in the library.
 
 ON THE AVENUE. 7 1 
 
 IV. 
 
 ON THE AVENUE. 
 
 U T ET 'S leave that till morning, Lem," Mr. 
 * ' William Norcross was saying, as the 
 young people entered. 
 
 The two brothers were standing by the center 
 table, and had been conversing on the business 
 of the house. The younger, Clara's father, with 
 ever a severe and gravea face, brown-haired, 
 complexion brown, eyes keen, the abler man, or, 
 at least, the most devoted business-zealot of the 
 two for the other was no slave and the origi- 
 nator of the vast manufacturing interests which 
 they now owned together. The elder, of pre- 
 cisely the same stature and form, twin-like in- 
 deed, but otherwise in the utmost contrast. 
 
 " Business to-morrow, Lem," said the latter. 
 His handsome white hair and benignant eyes, 
 his ruddy hues of cheerful content and health, 
 his refined and courtly bearing, his delightful 
 cordiality, which sat upon him always, whether 
 he spoke in his laughing tones with a frequent 
 flash of wit, or whether he was silent in thought,
 
 72 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 as he read you, taking your hand ; these were 
 the things in contrast with the other man. 
 
 " We suppose all these young people are ac- 
 quainted," the host continued. " Mother, you 
 have met Mr. Havens, Pastor Havens' son, that 
 glorious man up in the country. This is my 
 pastor, Brother Crestlake, who has dropped in 
 on us to dine " ; this gentleman arose and took 
 Paul by the hand, the host still retaining the 
 floor, and continuing, " Now, we will have our 
 usual evening prayer. I put it before the even- 
 ing meal, Lem, when I find it catches the chil- 
 dren, and every body else. In the morning, it 's 
 hurry off to business, each at different hours. 
 After dinner, it 's society, meetings, the opera, 
 and the like. I catch 'em all at this hour." 
 Meanwhile, he had himself taken up the large 
 Bible, as the leader the proper thing for the 
 host always while winsome Minnie, being 
 youngest, and therefore servant of these holy 
 offices, passed to each person a copy of the 
 Testament and Psalms. "Where do you put it, 
 Lem," the host asked, turning the leaves for 
 the place. 
 
 " In France ! " At which everybody shouted. 
 Then the office-worm, looking suddenly up, 
 added, "Eh?"
 
 ON THE AVENUE. 73 
 
 "Drop business, brother," said Mr. William. 
 "It is prayer-time." 
 
 " Yes, indeed, dear papa," exclaimed Clara, who 
 reddened both in sympathy and confusion on her 
 father's account ; for she too well knew that his 
 abstracted answer had saved him a more embarass- 
 ing if an accurate answer as to when they had 
 family devotions in the Crosston mansion. In fact, 
 he put it, this family prayer, fifteen years ago, 
 out of the house, not intending, but being too 
 busy to give it place. 
 
 A hush fell on the brilliant room, as humble 
 now and reverent a calm as Paul had ever seen 
 the parsonage study wear. The oil lamp and the 
 crystal chandelier may both light up the same 
 inspiring page. Across the tufted floors the house- 
 hold servants stole to take their seats, with folded, 
 aproned arms and restful, grateful looks, forget- 
 ting, for the moment, in this temple of the home, 
 God's first on earth, the differences which man's 
 later earthly shrines have made. The gilded vol- 
 umes on their shelves about seemed worshipful on- 
 lookers, as this pious house bent each above the 
 Only Book. Now silver voice of maiden fair, now 
 golden tones of mother, and now the deeper iron 
 tones of the men, as onward ran the story of the 
 dear Lord's loving look bent on the rich young man.
 
 74 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 A chapter read " in course," and yet so apt, 
 though for a little Paul but lightly heeded it. 
 His mind was full of the delightful calm. He 
 took his turn next after Clara's verse, it chanced, 
 but meanwhile smelled the perfume of the flowers 
 that came in all about them, listened to the tinkle 
 of the fountain just through the doors amid the 
 flowers, and thought upon the splendid fittings 
 of the room in which a Christian rich man found 
 his sweetest rest at night, an hour of household 
 prayer. 
 
 Still Paul read, unheeding, and yet heeding ; 
 as to the ear a welcome strain of music some- 
 times comes, inspiring, hallowing, heard, and not 
 heard, for it starts the soul on wings that take 
 one far away. Paul thought of home; his home 
 as pure as this, and like it, in this religious 
 joy ; and there was such a sense of gratitude 
 for his own Christian rearing. In all the truest 
 culture he had shared with these, the culture 
 that these valued most was his, the faith and 
 practice of a Christian. Not one was here who 
 did not bear at least the name and vows of a 
 believer. Here for the moment were no young, 
 no old, no rich, no poor, for Christ was all in 
 all. The accents of these women, reading the 
 solemn words, lent added grace to the narrative
 
 ON THE AVENUE. 75 
 
 of grace and pity. You hear your mother, sister, 
 wife, or daughter, read the Book aloud, especially 
 if you have not heard it read by any one for 
 months, and your spirit quivers with the thrill 
 these tones can give you. 
 
 Then suddenly Miss Clara read, " Honor thy 
 father and thy mother; and thou shalt love thy 
 neighbor as thyself." 
 
 Paul awoke from his dream as he read, "The 
 young man saith unto him, All these things 
 have I kept from my youth up. What lack I 
 yet ? " 
 
 It was his future father-in-law who took up, 
 in a dry tone, " Jesus said unto him, If thou 
 wilt be perfect, go and sell that thou hast." 
 
 " That means my body, mind, and soul," 
 thought Paul. " These are all I have to sell. 
 Unless I must add the sacrifice of this happy 
 girl at my side." 
 
 " And give to the poor," Mr. Norcross went on, 
 "and thou shalt have treasure in heaven. Come 
 and follow me." 
 
 As gentle music, the golden tones of the 
 matron of the group, Mrs. Norcross, hostess, 
 closed the reading; which, indeed, was a recita- 
 tion, for she had shut the volume, and her soli- 
 tary diamond glistened upon the forefinger that
 
 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 caressed the Book in her lap. Paul thought like 
 a tear the stone shone. " But when the young 
 man heard that saying, he went away exceeding 
 sorrowful for he had great possessions ! " 
 
 " Our beloved pastor," said the host softly, as 
 he took down his eye-glasses and lifted his head 
 with a look of calm joy, " Brother Crestlake, 
 will lead us at the Throne of Grace." 
 
 Had he been a high priest confessed, instead 
 of the plain, untitled " preaching brother," as 
 New England Puritanism has historically con- 
 tended, this clerical gentleman would scarce 
 have seemed mitered with a loftier authority in 
 the eyes of this domestic circle. To be sure, 
 his was a wealthy church, of national influence in 
 the denomination, and he himself a man of a 
 confessed brilliancy of talent, in a way. But 
 there was certainly nothing in his reputation, 
 known to Paul, nor in his personal presence, 
 keenly read now for the first time by the bright, 
 young student of successful men, nothing to war- 
 rant the dominance, the almost sacred sway, 
 which were accorded him by this company. 
 
 Paul thought of his own father, and how be- 
 comingly his humble righteousness could have 
 worn such affectionate esteem. Even this astute, 
 business man and millionaire might well revere
 
 ON THE AVENUE. 77 
 
 Sylvester Havens. Even this bright circle of 
 highly-educated young people might well do defer- 
 ence to the learning, the purity, and the self-deny- 
 ing service of mankind which Sylvester Havens' 
 holy life had displayed for many years. But the 
 sparkling Mr. Crestlake, star preacher, with his 
 five and thirty years, unvexed by hardships, genial 
 gentleman and prophet though he were, that he 
 should be treated with such refinement of rever- 
 ence ! 
 
 It put a new phase on the ministerial life for 
 Paul Havens. He had never seen his father 
 handled with such velvet touch, except by the 
 very poor, the grateful sick, or the discerning 
 pious here and there. He had never seen the 
 rich farmer, in all their country pastorates, who 
 did not seem to feel that he owned the pastor as 
 he did his wide-spread acres or his costly herds. 
 He had never seen in Lemuel Norcross, autocrat 
 of Crosston, what he now beheld in William Nor- 
 cross' delicate consideration for this preacher of 
 religion. 
 
 " We will follow you, mother, on the pastor's 
 arm," said the host with easy decorum, now indi- 
 cating the dining room with a motion of the hand. 
 
 Indeed, the clergyman had arisen from his 
 knees to assume that place of precedence. He
 
 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 had done it many times before, in this home, and 
 knew just what was expected of him. 
 
 Paul must have worn some outward facial index 
 of his thoughts that prompted Clara, as she nes- 
 tled so happy at his side, for she said, " It is 
 the pastor and not the man, Paul. I told you 
 how they rendered honor to the preachers here. 
 But do you altogether like him?" 
 
 "He is faultlessly dressed, is he not? though 
 not clerically; and his manners are so very easy," 
 said Paul. 
 
 "Yes, indeed," as they moved along, "and he 
 will patronize you, as he once tried to me, be- 
 fore we push our chairs back," she replied, rus- 
 tling into her place beside Paul at the table. 
 
 It was a most superb apartment in which they 
 were now seated ; and a board which never knew 
 stint smiled and flashed before them. As they 
 took their places a decent silence followed, till 
 they could hear the click of the passing hoofs 
 on the pavements of the avenue. 
 
 "Brother Lem, ask a blessing," said the host. 
 
 Brother Lem was ready ; indeed, he was never 
 other than ready for the employment that came 
 next to his hand. But what he said, as he mum- 
 bled his stereotyped "blessing," for all the world 
 like the hum of his factory-wheels, no mortal ear
 
 ON TJSE AVENUE. 79 
 
 could hear. Clara knew it, however, by heart, 
 having understood him years ago, and of late 
 years memory giving to his mouthings intelligible 
 meanings. 
 
 "Brother Norcross," prompt and leading with 
 his rich voice, spoke the Rev. Mr. Crestlake, "I 
 congratulate you on that generous gift of five 
 thousand dollars to missions, last week." The 
 speaker, in an impressive way, aproned himself 
 with his napkin clear to the throat. There was 
 some thing exceedingly pleasing in the sound of 
 this gentleman's voice. 
 
 "We greatly value your approval," said Mrs. 
 Norcross, as if she had had a hand in the coun- 
 sels that prompted it ; and she had. 
 
 " We find few men like your brother," contin- 
 ued the clergyman, addressing Mr. Lemuel. "A 
 princely giver ; a name widely known in all the 
 land, my brother." 
 
 "Bill's a jewel," was the taciturn man's audible 
 comment. His inaudible one might have run, 
 could we know it, "And Bill 's a fool only with 
 his ministers ; he do n't manage 'em as I manage 
 mine." 
 
 "Uncle Will," said Clara, "you are always 
 handsome when you blush ! " And the rest of the 
 pretty girl's speech did not seem to help the poor
 
 80 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 man any : " It makes every body happy to have 
 you praised." 
 
 "And to have him prospered, too," said the cler- 
 gyman, with great sincerity, claiming his impres- 
 sive lead again. "I am much interested in the 
 spring outlook, commercially, for our home manufac- 
 tures," he continued. After which he went on to 
 talk shop to the tired and shopworn business-man ; 
 and not, altogether, as a curious and entertained 
 learner might converse, to draw out his hearers, 
 either. The clergyman spoke of silks to this 
 world-master of silks as one who himself was by 
 no means uninformed which was a fact, the 
 bright fellow. To good advantage he displayed 
 his other than theological knowledge. His musical 
 tones and kindly-beaming smile helped him still. 
 
 " Is it the opera, to-night ? " almost impatiently 
 broke in Mr. Lemuel, at last, at a chance. He 
 addressed his brother's wife, or his own nephew, 
 between whom he sat, and either of whom he 
 thought might have helped him. 
 
 But no one helped him change the theme. In- 
 deed, all eyes that were not on the dishes 
 Clara's, Paul's, Andrew's and Minnie's, these re- 
 spectfully downcast were trained on the clergy- 
 man. It was no use. If Mr. William Norcross 
 had seen the absurdity of it all, he yet revered
 
 ON THE AVENUE. 8 1 
 
 the office of the speaker to that degree that he 
 would not have been offended, but apologetic, 
 deferential, and certainly disposed to help in any 
 errors. It was the pastor ! All of which was not 
 lost on Paul Havens, student of men and things, 
 th high compliment of this child-like rich man's 
 treatment of heaven's evangelist. Really, to be 
 the pastoral guide of such a soul ought to evoke 
 all the nobility that a preacher had in him ! 
 Nobility ? Say humility, rather, and a very walk- 
 ing and toiling on one's knees to do one's best 
 and be found faithful ! 
 
 And then there came a sharp analysis of him- 
 self. He confessed the "I am not worthy" now, 
 from another point of view than that which 
 prompted him to acknowledge as much to good 
 Steve Crane. Then, it was not that he was not 
 patient enough, not self-denying enough, to endure 
 the unfeeling neglect of the coarse-minded and the 
 dull-hearted in the churches. Now it was that 
 he was not great enough in mind and heart and 
 soul to be the companion and guide of such a 
 soul as this generous host. These two brothers 
 before him were the opposite poles of the pos- 
 sible pastor's world. 
 
 "I suppose these young ladies and gentlemen 
 contemplate the present opera season with a
 
 82 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 degree of satisfaction," said Mr. Crestlake, will- 
 ing to yield his business topic, at last. 
 
 " It is certainly very brilliant, sir," said Miss 
 Minnie. 
 
 "Your father, sir," this to Paul, "would 
 hardly approve, or acquiesce, as we city pastors 
 must." His slightly regretful tone preserved his 
 orthodoxy finely, at the same time that, moving 
 his hand, he seemed to say, "We have jumped 
 clean over the old scruples, much against our 
 will." 
 
 " You are very kind and indulgent," said the 
 hostess. "You help us out so with the young 
 people, pastor." Dear heart, and Protestant, she 
 relied upon his casuistry to help her out; she 
 acknowledged his conscience, and denied her 
 own ; for she was not so taught concerning the 
 theatres, in her New England girlhood. 
 
 " My father, sir," said Paul, rather anxious to 
 reply, "is tried with different social problems. 
 The poor man's impatience and even frenzy un- 
 der woes of want, for instance." 
 
 There was a fine gleam of good steel in the 
 blade thus half drawn. Yet it showed the col- 
 lege boy too plainly ; and the reader will ob- 
 serve the fierce contention which was daily tor- 
 turing the young fellow's soul. All of which
 
 ON THE AVENUE, 83 
 
 Paul saw, the next moment, biting his lip with 
 modest regret. 
 
 "To be sure. A rural pastorate is a differ- 
 ent thing from one of our intense city-life pas- 
 torates," said the clergyman, as the company 
 were breaking off into the drawing-room. " You 
 are not intending to preach ? " 
 
 " He is to be my father's partner, sir," volun- 
 tered Clara ; for Paul was slow to reply, nettled 
 as she thought by the patronizing tone of the 
 clergyman's last remark. 
 
 "You will smoke with us, Mr. Havens," said 
 cousin Andrew, approaching and pointing after 
 the older gentlemen, who were passing into a 
 little gem of a smoking-room. 
 
 " Ah, that 's the after-luxury ! " said the cler- 
 gyman, with a little sigh of relish, which was 
 half apology also, for his own part, as he 
 stepped promptly into the cozy nook. 
 
 " No, sir," said Paul, " if you will excuse me, 
 I have smoked my last cigar." This last for 
 Clara's ear. 
 
 " Oh, Paul Havens, have you ? " cried Clara ; 
 and with that she flew up and kissed his clean 
 mouth, smack ! 
 
 "I don't blame a fellow," said Andrew, in 
 genuine good nature, "if it were to please such
 
 84 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 a girl as you are, coz. But you '11 excuse us 
 then, my boy? You'll go down to the theatre 
 with us, no doubt ; shall meet you when the 
 carriages come to the door." And he joined 
 the other gentlemen. 
 
 " Why, Paul ! " asked Clara, as the two went 
 on to join the ladies. 
 
 "First, to please you, little girl." 
 
 " I love you for it ! " 
 
 " Second, because I will live in perfect health, 
 if possible. I '11 be a sound body, if I can not 
 be a sound mind ! " He spoke so gravely and 
 seemed troubled. 
 
 She insisted then, imperatively, on having him 
 to herself in the great parlors across the hall, 
 if only for five minutes. They walked, she 
 talked. She asked him questions, east, west, 
 north, and south. She would know what be- 
 clouded him. 
 
 Dare he tell her ? 
 
 " Clara, you have seen this clergyman." 
 
 "Yes; yes." 
 
 " Could I stand where he stands in this city, 
 be worthy of such an entire in this house, snd 
 others like it ?" 
 
 "Why, what do you mean?" 
 
 " God help me ! Sometimes I burn to try
 
 ON THE AVENUE. 85 
 
 what genuine effort might do with genuine 
 men about one ; for the glory of that dear old 
 faith which my father proclaims, and which this 
 gentleman is set to preach. Yet I have neither 
 the consecration of the one, nor the self-satis- 
 faction of the other. I can't see my own fit- 
 ness; yet the thought is making me perfectly 
 wretched ! " 
 
 Blank silence ! 
 
 " You think me a conceited fool ? " 
 
 Continued silence. 
 
 "You despise me, that I measure myself with 
 this successful man ? " 
 
 Silence still. 
 
 "For, my love, I speak my heart without 
 reserve to you. This is a precious confidence, 
 and therefore most unreserved. Come. Speak ! 
 Could I ever hope to get the ears of this 
 great city ? For to work with my father's vil- 
 lagers, and village owners, I could never! That's 
 the absurdity of it. That such a heart as mine 
 should be called ! " 
 
 " Paul," she said, and seemed so distressed. 
 " You know full well that I could never be 
 a minister's wife." 
 
 " Why, now ? Tell me why ? " pleadingly, 
 the inconsistent fellow !
 
 86 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 "Ask your invalid mother why." 
 
 "But intelligent churches have given up the 
 bonnet and ribbon criticism, child." 
 
 "Yes, and gone to using the microscope on the 
 husband's rhetoric, doctrines, and private beliefs. 
 Paul, it would be torture to me to see you sub- 
 jected to the discontent that Puss, here, expresses 
 with her pastors." 
 
 "Pastors?" 
 
 " Yes, indeed. They change in this church 
 every few years, as I can well remember. In- 
 deed, these nervous, over-strained city people are 
 harder to keep content than our rough country 
 folks. These people are discontented with every 
 thing, from the opera singer to the minister." 
 
 "And most discontent with themselves, no 
 doubt," sighed Paul. 
 
 "But they do not realize that." 
 
 "Your uncle, who reveres the ministry " 
 
 " Ah, uncle is one in ten thousand ! He and 
 Aunt Matilda are of the old generation, and they 
 never suffer a lisp of Sunday-dinner-tearing-the- 
 sermons-to-tatters. But the young generation, 
 when we are alone, why, sir," with an emphatic 
 squeeze of his arm, "they are lenient to Booth 
 and Florence in comparison with their savagery 
 with the Crestlakes."
 
 ON THE AVENUE. 87 
 
 "They do not like him?" 
 
 "They like him by fits and starts. The nice 
 people in this city, you hermit, neither like nor 
 dislike any thing long. Paul Havens, I know you. 
 A little girl like me has some faint penetration 
 when love inspires her. I tell you, sir, that you 
 little know the cross that one must bear to be 
 a successful preacher in one of these aesthetical 
 churches. No, no, you shall hear me ! " And she 
 hovered in front of him and stopped his walk. 
 "To see you, so frank and open as I know 
 you ; you so independent and outspoken ; you so 
 downright direct when you think yourself right, 
 to see you attempting to adapt yourself before 
 the changeful moods of people whose religion is 
 largely fashion, bridling your tongue, your hands, 
 your brains, and your feet, or pampered into 
 mannerisms on the other hand oh, sir, you 
 could never do it ! And I, sir, would never try 
 to do it, for my part ! " 
 
 "You pretty preacher, quite a sermon!" said 
 he. "Your observation of things would surprise 
 any body who had never seen a Yankee girl of 
 twenty ; yet, of course, I believe you are wrong." 
 
 But, though he tried to be cheery, it was too 
 grave a crisis in both their lives for much good 
 cheer. He caught her two burning cheeks in his
 
 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 hands, and looking down deep into her very soul, 
 resumed, "My glorious girl, I have had a week of 
 tragedy ! " 
 
 "I know it now," she shot in. "I will fight 
 for you and with you ; I will save you ! " 
 
 "And," he continued, as if she had not spoken, 
 " I must try to do my fellowmen some good in 
 this world. It is death to me if I refuse." 
 
 " I '11 go to the end of the world with you, 
 doing good. See ! we shall have thousands," 
 she spoke like a flash of light, and only took 
 the time between his labored breaths. 
 
 "What does an earnest man care for these 
 silly social discontents that are in his way ? He 
 can march right on, like a giant, like a Chris- 
 topher, bearing the Christ " 
 
 "Yes, in India he could. I'll go there with 
 you. But, sir, in this Christian city, these trifles 
 would bite, stab, fetter, blind, entangle, craze 
 you ! I know you, sir ; you are too direct a 
 man. Why, you could never get on as my own 
 father's pulpit-servant ! Oh, oh ! what have I 
 said ? " She bit her lip with confusion, that she 
 should have dared to speak out her mind so 
 bluntly, even to her lover, concerning her father, 
 whom she always dutifully mantled with charity. 
 
 Now that last was a fact on which Paul
 
 ON THE AVENUE 89 
 
 Havens was well convinced. The reference to 
 Lemuel Norcross, parishioner, brought him back 
 to familiar ground. 
 
 " I am not as good a man as my father. 
 No; I could not endure " 
 
 "What Pastor Havens will not long, Paul. 
 The little church at Crosston is killing him, with 
 its petty contentions." 
 
 " Great God, pity me ! " cried the young fellow : 
 " I can not, can not endure this indecision long ! " 
 
 "Paul, there are ten thousand ways of doing 
 good, are there not ? " 
 
 " Yes, precious." 
 
 "Then let us take all the ten thousand and 
 spend our lives doing good to mankind, if only 
 the Lord will excuse us from that one way." 
 
 Paul noticed, for the first time, that her tone 
 was not as tender, not as afflicted, as he had 
 anticipated. It was cold, resolved; it startled 
 him. 
 
 "And what if God will not excuse me?" he 
 asked. 
 
 " Then, Paul, he will have to excuse me ! " 
 
 "What! Clara, do you believe a life is safe 
 that deliberately rebels ? " 
 
 " Is it a lovers' quarrel ? " suddenly asked 
 Cousin Fidie, alias Puss, putting her face in at
 
 9 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 the portieres; "because you will excuse me 
 the horses are at the door. It 's time, children." 
 
 "Ah, Miss Norcross, you are right. It is 
 nearly nine o'clock," responded Paul, looking at 
 his watch and decidedly grateful for the oppor- 
 tune intrusion. 
 
 " But we have a box, Mr. Havens ; only we 
 should be off. Clara, you are dressed, I see," 
 and Puss crept nearer. " I '11 look to him, if 
 you '11 risk me, till you get cloaked." 
 
 Clara had read her cousin's verdict on Paul 
 Havens before the dinner was half over. How ? 
 That is more than man can tell ; but somehow 
 she had read the verdict. Puss knew that she 
 had, moreover ; yet the two ladies had not ex- 
 changed a word about the gentleman. 
 
 Clara looked full in Puss' eyes now. She was 
 yet trembling with the exertion of will necessary 
 for these last perilous words with the man for 
 whom she could have offered up her young life. 
 Puss' sudden coming left her in the blackest night, 
 as to what effect her defiance had had on Paul. 
 
 "But he is not to be a clergyman, if you please, 
 Miss," Clara had said to herself at the toilet 
 table. " Therefore we shall have no rivalry 
 between cousins, my dear, shrewd girl. He is 
 mine, all mine ! And a silk-weaver."
 
 ON THE AVENUE. 9 1 
 
 Now, however, all was changed. The old 
 settlement made in distant Crosston, it seems, 
 was not standing firm. What if this man, the 
 soul of honor, should say to her, "Then I 
 must obey God, rather than man or woman. 
 You of course, release me, that I may go, en- 
 dure all things, and do my duty ? " 
 
 And having said this, possibly within the 
 next few days of their visit, what if the family 
 should need to know the reasons? as they cer- 
 tainly would, the silk-business being put out of 
 skein by the means. 
 
 And what then, Puss being in waiting ? Then 
 months, a year, years, Puss waiting. Shrewd, 
 bright, keen, good Puss, all devoted to a city 
 mission; a woman-power the greatest, by the 
 way, in the city church ; kind and admiring 
 Puss, accomplished and elegant Puss ! How su- 
 perb she looked here and now, dressed in exquisite 
 taste; just enough diamonds; just enough color, 
 a mere bit of it in the shape of a bouquet that 
 peeped from beneath the white down of the 
 cloak that she was drawing about her ; other- 
 wise, raven-like from head to foot, and white here 
 there like a dove's feather or two, which the 
 raven might have plucked off in some encounter. 
 So much for a man's remembrance of her.
 
 92 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 This dove put her hand to her breast and 
 cast her eyes down, as if missing some of her 
 own soft plumage. She had lost indeed her 
 peace. Pretty dove, never prettier than at this 
 present moment, drooping the head, the eyes 
 filling with a mist, thinking all these things 
 over, seen in bird's-eye view. The raven being 
 in waiting there, of course the dove dare not 
 coo. The raven offering to wait and let the 
 dove fly. Fly whither ? Why, to be sure, only 
 up-stairs for a moment. Still, dove, there 's many 
 a wind when once one is on the wing. Who 
 can tell whither you '11 fly, if, as your little flut- 
 tering heart desires, one does fly now ? 
 
 Clara turned one swift look on Paul Havens' 
 anxious face. It was enough. She knew then 
 that at least his heart was true to her. It 
 was, she decided, nothing but a woman's fears 
 that had alarmed her. 
 
 " Paul, you will go ? You will be diverted. 
 You will see duty clearer, after having seen the 
 world as it is, to-night." 
 
 " Yes ; yes. Go get ready," he replied, in 
 perfect good humor. At any rate Puss, waiting 
 and hearing, could not detect the sadness of 
 his tone, and wholly misinterpreted the scene, 
 evidently, for she remarked, as Clara disappeared:
 
 ON THE AVENUE. 93 
 
 "You do not care for amusements, I suppose, 
 being shut up so long to books ? " 
 
 "That was not it exactly," he replied, and 
 fell to conversing in a general way, till the 
 party was off.
 
 94 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 V. 
 
 A SERIOUS QUESTION. 
 
 1 1 "\7OUR father does not go to opera," re- 
 -*- marked Paul Havens to Andrew Norcross, 
 as the carriages moved down the avenue. 
 
 " He has never been in his life, nor has 
 mamma," replied Puss, taking the answer from 
 Andrew's slower mouth. 
 
 " In which respect, I am like them," remarked 
 Paul, somewhat gravely, though wishing he had 
 introduced some other topic. 
 
 " Can it be true ? A young fellow who has 
 seen as much of the world as you have?" Puss 
 said it, Andrew looked it. 
 
 " That 's the Puritan of it, cousins," promptly 
 remarked Clara ; and, it must be confessed, with 
 pretty apology in her manner. 
 
 " Busy, you know," shouted Paul, for they had 
 now struck the rougher granite pavements of the 
 old town, "at country schools in country villages." 
 
 "And nearly every body, in our village church, 
 would say 't was wicked," cried Clara. 
 
 "You do not think so," roared Andrew.
 
 A SERIOUS QUESTION. 95 
 
 " Hardly that," shouted Paul, " though I con- 
 fess to the subtle influence of a silent, life-long 
 example." 
 
 "His dear, magnificent father would cut his 
 own right hand off, almost," screamed Clara, 
 though her voice was scarcely less charming at 
 this pitch, "to avoid offending the good brethren." 
 
 " And you have traveled in Europe ? " asked 
 Puss, whose voice rather piped and showed its 
 years, straining against the pavement roar. 
 
 "Oh, well, that was a knapsack tramp, with a 
 lot of college fellows, worshiping at old shrines, 
 rather than new, you know. Mostly Alps, Greece, 
 Palestine, and Orient," was Paul's reply. 
 
 "We have been going to theatre and opera 
 only four or five years," said Andrew. "Still, 
 I 'm tired ; at any rate, I heartily envy you your 
 new sensations." 
 
 The sensations ! To the Puritan student, lover 
 of music, once the class poet, and to be the class 
 orator, an enthusiastic critic of art, and keenly 
 sensitive to artistic effects. The sensations of the 
 reality, to this dreamer whose dreams, over his 
 hired piano in the college roam, were raptures. 
 He knew every note of FAUST, the night's opera, 
 and could play it without the score. Work after 
 work had he and Clara Norcross rendered to
 
 96 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 gether, he with his violin, and she at the piano, 
 in the pleasant Crosston home, for she was as 
 much a musical enthusiast as he. It was in sum- 
 mer days, and over music, that they first became 
 attached. 
 
 "Oh, Paul!" she would exclaim, "you should 
 hear it with all its setting ! " 
 
 "I do not know," he would musingly reply; 
 " how can music be added to ? I hear it: all, 
 see it, people the scene, and thrill with it, till 
 I 'm actually unstrung, here and now." 
 
 Clara Norcross put out her hand, as the car- 
 riage halted, and touched his under her cloak. 
 Both hands were actually cold. " The realization, 
 at last," thought she, thinking for him, hoping 
 for him, and combining her own exquisite mem- 
 ories of this pleasure-house, till she could not 
 speak for a childlike emotion. "My dream-land 
 made real," thought he. " Do I wish it ? Will 
 it survive the rude shock of real voices and real 
 figures, with real men and women, the hundreds 
 of other auditors chattering about me ? May be 
 the charm of this music will be henceforth for- 
 ever gone." 
 
 The ring of prancing hoofs and click of carriage 
 doors; the shout of drivers to policemen, and the 
 sharp reply; the gleam of peeping lights, that
 
 A SERIOUS QUESTION. 97 
 
 flash and fade and reappear again on wheeling, 
 halting, winding vehicles ; the slowly moving line, 
 that frets you as it whets you with impatience 
 for the canopy, and your turn to fly out of this 
 black night-air and confusion. 
 
 "My dear, your cloak, wind it close." 
 
 "And you, sir, shut the door and be patient. 
 See that beggar at the curb. How cold she 
 looks, poor thing ! Why will she stand here, to 
 catch a mere glimpse of us silly folks, who have 
 as many troubles in life as she ? Dear, dear ! '* 
 drumming the chilled feet on the carriage floor. 
 
 " Go on ! go on ! Does Michael keep his turn, 
 do you think, Andrew ? " Thus we chat and 
 chatter, waiting. 
 
 " I see father and Minnie," Clara manages to 
 say. 
 
 " I see " the Browns and the Smiths and the 
 Robinsons ; all your friends, indeed, you see, 
 except the particular ones you are watching for ; 
 as they alight, as they flash in while half 
 hooded, half revealed, as they flit and disappear, 
 making room for your vehicle, if ever they 
 will. 
 
 "Here child!" It is Clara who has put out 
 her gloved arm and motioned to the street-waif. 
 "Take that, and sweeter dreams to-night," as
 
 98 DOLLARS AND DUTY 
 
 she bestows what uncounted coin she chances to 
 find " in the pocket of this dress." 
 
 At last ! Now trip it gaily along the passage- 
 ways, like rose petals and green leaves ; bright 
 is she, somber-dressed is he ; winged on by un- 
 kindly draughts of an air that has a perfume 
 all its own. Were you blindfolded, you would 
 yet know you were at the Academy by the 
 frankincense of old gala nights of years and years 
 that ever lingers. The very atmosphere is very 
 different from that of the church, the home, or 
 the hard, clear, outer world. The faint, far echo 
 of the muffled melody. Come, hasten ! At the 
 door of your box, all here? The pleasure of antici- 
 pation reaches its height, just here and now. 
 And some do say that the pleasure of the 
 evening from this moment always begins to 
 decline. 
 
 Ah, the sudden blaze of splendor! the light, 
 which throbs with movement, beaten with count- 
 less fans, loaded with its burden of melody, 
 wafted in little gales up to you, so that you 
 seem to breathe the light and breathe the song. 
 The light, quivering with glances that invite and 
 defy, that woo and court and envy ; glances 
 that dart out and retreat, that go on errands of 
 insolence and messages of love. A living light
 
 A SERIOUS QUESTION: 99 
 
 is quivering with all these. In that light you 
 have come at length to live your little moment, 
 seeing and to be seen. Seeing and being seen, 
 you are yet hearing all the while. That is the 
 peculiarity of it. All your senses have turned 
 to seeing and hearing. Not you, old habitues! 
 With you it is all seeing, doubtless, "who is 
 here ? " But these two rural idealists, who have 
 come to this vision of enchantment, it is with 
 their eyes, ears, and hearts that we are con- 
 cerned. However accustomed Clara was to the 
 scene, she found it impossible to either see or 
 hear for her own enjoyment. She lost her per- 
 sonality in her lover ; she literally put herself 
 in his place. 
 
 As Paul Havens gazed out on the brilliant 
 audience, whose half-indolent delight lent all their 
 faces at least a momentary smiling peace and 
 aspect of content, Miss Norcross knew, as well 
 as if he spoke it, that he was thinking, like a 
 philosopher : " I have been bred in a higher 
 school of life than these people. Which is the 
 true view of life ? father's, I am sure ! " 
 
 Andrew leaned across the chair-back to point 
 out this great merchant and that, here resting 
 alter the day's toil with folded arms and de- 
 corous interest, simulating, at least, an artistic
 
 IOO DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 knowledge and a cultured pleasure. " The Gov- 
 ernor, just there. And next to him, General 
 Blank," etc. 
 
 " Ah ? " And forgetting the hearing in a phil- 
 osopher's seeing, Paul turned his thoughtful face 
 to study them ; a face that itself grew fascinat- 
 ing to many observers. It was not the conven- 
 tional young man's face, perhaps, this one on 
 which glasses were leveled, or it was a new 
 social question, " Whose face, a new and hand- 
 some in our friend Norcross' box ? " But 
 to Clara, the face at her side was significant 
 with a thousand eager questions. Thus, if she 
 had actually read his thoughts and written them 
 down, 
 
 " These hard workers came here to unbend ! 
 Is there any harm in that ? I wonder if they 
 go to prayer-meetings, on other nights, to un- 
 bend and rest? Can these women at their sides 
 lead them to the church for Sabbath rest ? Are 
 the two kinds of rest needed opera rest, and 
 rest of worship and are they compatible ? 
 These younger fellows about town, who pass 
 and repass diamond-studded glasses, how many 
 of them could earn their own living ? How 
 many of them earned the price of the two 
 seats they use for this evening? I don't be-
 
 A SERIOUS QUESTION. IOI 
 
 lieve I would need fear to meet them in a com- 
 petition of real life, bred in the school of 
 hardship." The conceit of it ? Yes, but it was 
 a thought and not a speech. 
 
 Profusion of dress, soft and dreamy glances 
 from beautiful women to most attentive men, 
 with pretty little comments ; the most refined 
 voluptuousness everywhere in sight ; then little 
 tempests of passion, beginning at the stage and 
 sweeping out like a tiny gale of emotion, that 
 set all these roses and lilies trembling and sway- 
 ing. The culmination, now and then, in a lan- 
 guid applause, like effeminate thunder. 
 
 "And this is the life we might lead, Clara," 
 Paul whispered. "We might know the best of 
 these people. I might grub for dividends, weav- 
 ing silk all day, and at night rest in this society 
 and spend the dividends. Is that it ? " 
 
 " Hush, my clear," she answered. " I do n't 
 know. Let 's forget the audience and listen to 
 the music awhile." 
 
 "What an audience this would be to preach 
 to, Clara ! Just think of one with a grave, kind 
 voice stepping out here in front and beginning 
 with that gravest, kindest theme " 
 
 "Please don't think of it, Paul. I will not." 
 But she laughed with him at the absurdity of it;
 
 IO2 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 and they settled back into their seats for the 
 remnant of the seeing and hearing. 
 
 Poor Gretchen in the cell! Poor little peas- 
 ant maidens singing wild songs and sad laments 
 in notes almost divine ! Who can read it and 
 not hold his breath lest he miss a single throb 
 of this sacred human sorrow ? Who can see it 
 the wisps of straw in her fair hands, with 
 which the lovely maniac is toying and not chill 
 after chill freeze his heart with every great sob 
 of the muffled orchestra? Condemned to death? 
 You can not have it so ! You start out of your 
 seat to save her, and protest that she is more 
 sinned against than sinning ! 
 
 These two pure-hearted lovers sat spell-bound. 
 They were forgetting each other, seeing and 
 hearing Margaret. Matchless art of Gcethe. 
 Matchless music of Gounod. Paul Havens knew 
 every line of the German poem in its native ver- 
 bal clothing. Suddenly it dawned upon him that, 
 though he and Clara had often read German 
 poetry together, yet they had never read old 
 Faust together. Would he like to hear her ren- 
 der Margaret, answering to his Mephistopheles ? 
 What, as they had read Schiller's William Tell? 
 Heaven forbid ! 
 
 Why not, if here you see it? True. And at
 
 A SERIOUS QUES-TION. IO3 
 
 the sight of that betrayer, now stolen in to the 
 cell, Paul caught a half-glance at the pallid face 
 of the New England maiden at his side. Her 
 very soul was conjured by the sorcerer, for the 
 moment. Her cheeks gave red and white by 
 turns, and through her parted lips she seemed 
 about to cry out with the spell of sympathy. 
 
 "It is the music so affects her," thought he. 
 "Yes, to be sure, the music and these rarest 
 voices in the world." Are you sure? Has she 
 often read Faust ? Has she ever read it ? You 
 do not like to think of that plot a favorite one 
 in the literary taste of the woman whom you 
 will marry, you Puritan. Yet we happen to know 
 that Clara Norcross had never read the poem. 
 She had often seen the opera. 
 
 Gretchen, Gretchen, what is your fault ? Do 
 not whisper it, read it not aloud. And thou, 
 sold to Satan, what hast thou done ? Murder and 
 seduction set to thrilling music, glorious music, 
 thrilling music ! One is confused ; one knows 
 not how to think correctly. One concludes that 
 he would not like his little sister, or his little 
 Christian friends, just at his side in all operas 
 not in all. In how many operas? Think of what 
 ones the count will not fatigue you not one. 
 
 "That's the Puritan of it." Of course it is.
 
 104 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 We confessed as much when we began to tran- 
 scribe this young possible preacher's mind a night 
 at opera. Pitifully self-centered he, of course. 
 How could he be otherwise, feeling and fearing 
 that God's choice might have centered on him. 
 The great tenor is now singing. The memory 
 of the church-portal is now before the Gretchen's 
 musing eyes. Angels of good and evil are now 
 calling in sweet and in dreadful chorus. Deep 
 laboring organ tones swell mightily the strain. 
 These thousands sit in awe and hang upon the 
 flexion of a tone ! Clara Norcross is in 
 tears for this poor Gretchen, for the morning 
 dawns and she must die ! Tears ? Many have 
 shed them for the peasant maid ; many eyes are 
 shedding them now. Paul Havens' face is wet as 
 any of the women's. Shall he be the better for 
 this weeping ? Who can say so ? for those who 
 weep are good already ; and as for Mephistopheles 
 in this brilliant throng, does he shed any tears? 
 Suddenly it always seems suddenly all was 
 over, and Paul was now throwing the wraps 
 about Clara. There was a great stir everywhere, 
 for most were now retiring. Doors were open- 
 ing, the outer air was coming in. 
 
 " What do you say ? " Andrew was asking 
 coldly and curiously.
 
 A SERIOUS QUESTION. 
 
 "Did you enjoy the evening?" Puss and Min- 
 nie were inquiring. 
 
 " Got a cigar, Andrew ? May I smoke, Miss 
 Minnie, in our carriage ? " Mr. Deacon Norcross, 
 trustee, silk-weaver, and millionaire was asking, 
 putting on her cloak and his coat. "What do 
 you say to this for an evening, Paul ? " 
 
 But in all the genteel confusion, Paul Havens 
 managed to get a chance and bent his burning 
 face to Clara's ear : " I say," he whispered, with 
 nervous fervor, "that I will go out and preach 
 to this sad world the glorious Gospel of the 
 blessed Christ till I die!" 
 
 You see, reader, that when you stir a human 
 soul from its depths, no matter with what you 
 stir it, that which is deepest in that soul will 
 rise up and float upon the surface. 
 
 Clara Norcross raised her eyes to his, with 
 one of those wonderful, deep looks of hers: 
 "And this is what the opera has done for you? 
 Powerless to allure ? " she asked. But her tone 
 was not dissentient. She unmistakably offered 
 her lips to him. He kissed her swiftly, whisper- 
 ing, 
 
 " Do you agree ? " 
 
 But there is no time for answering at any 
 length. You are being pushed and ruffled along
 
 106 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 the corridors ; you are nodding to people ; you 
 are feeling the wintry blast, and etc. 
 
 " It is snowing, Andrew says," Puss remarks, 
 with a little shudder. "Before the week is out, 
 we '11 try the flyers out on the roads," which 
 showed where her thoughts were already ; but 
 then, she has been going to opera and prayer- 
 meetings, alternately, for several years. 
 
 You are at last handed into your carriage. 
 Andrew must smoke. He is not one who goes 
 out between acts, for a cigarette even ; and as 
 for a social glass, why, never ! He is a Sab- 
 bath-school teacher of a class of boys in that 
 palatial church parlor. But to smoke is to sit 
 with old Michael on the box outside in the 
 snow. What a strange garment of protection is a 
 cigar ! Say, rather, what a tyrant ! Then, too, 
 Andrew had felt the excitement a little, the 
 stolid, cool fellow ! he, too, had listened for the 
 minister's son. To-morrow he would converse 
 about impressions when they were alone. 
 
 Clara is such a bundle, shrunk into her corner, 
 and saying nothing; but thinking, feeling, hoping, 
 fearing, ah ! so many things ; all silent and dark 
 without, and her soul aflame within. 
 
 "To-morrow, sleighing," Cousin Fidelia, alias 
 Puss, begins, talking at Paul. "The next day,
 
 A SERIOUS QUESTION. IO7 
 
 woll, some friends at the house in the evening, 
 and the resting and dressing for it will keep us 
 girls busy, while you men are up town." 
 
 Paul answered a respectful " Yes." 
 
 "Then, there is Friday night at church. Of 
 course we shall all want to go there." 
 
 "Yes, certainly." 
 
 "Then there is Saturday night and our baked 
 beans and brown-bread, home night: papa in- 
 sists on that ; and, indeed, we are very happy. 
 Then Sunday, and you should go hear let me 
 see," and she ran over, with perfect familiarity 
 and a touch of local pride, the names of the 
 "best preachers." 
 
 "Yes, certainly," Paul repeated, in a mechani- 
 cal way ; and Clara shrugged herself into closer 
 wrapping, all nervous chill. 
 
 " But you must stay longer," Cousin Fidelia 
 resumed. "Why, we could use every night next 
 week and repeatedly see or hear something new"; 
 which she proved by calling off the names of 
 lecturers, actors, and artists, in various lines, 
 with great earnestness and with almost warm 
 enconiums on some of them. 
 
 To which there being scarce much of any 
 reply, the speaker exclaimed at length, 
 
 " Why, you two simpletons ! I do believe you
 
 108 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 are both overcome with dear, delightful, old 
 Gounod ! You, you pretty clear," with a little 
 shake of Clara at her side ; " I '11 put you straight 
 to bed, as soon as we get home ! Talk about 
 your living here, you poetess ! Our society would 
 kill you in a season ; or else you 'd get hardened 
 as I have." 
 
 Clara managed to chatter out a pretty laugh 
 through her teeth, which were pearls, and the 
 other's envy. 
 
 "It is high time this house was still!" Such 
 greeting from benignant William Norcross, trying 
 to be stern, with a mock severity, as he faced 
 them, shaking his Church Advocate in one hand 
 and his eye-glasses in the other. At the foot 
 of the broad stairs he stood, saying, " Shoo ! 
 Shoo ! " to this young flock, and amid a shower 
 of kisses, repeating, as he laughed, " Yes, yes ; 
 let the house be still." 
 
 It is still. The small hours draw on. The 
 house is asleep ; the chambers are each asleep ; 
 the streets without are asleep ; the lamps along 
 the broad thoroughfares seem ready to go to 
 sleep, if they only dared. 
 
 Clara Norcross is not asleep. She is thinking 
 " He surely is mine. I should die without him. 
 But how different he is from all other young
 
 A SERIOUS QUESTION. 
 
 men of my acquaintance. At the opera he is 
 all aflame to preach. At our village church up 
 home, he is so fretted and rebellious, that he 
 asserts he never could work with such conten- 
 tious people. We were to do good in any other 
 way, any of ten thousands. Strange. He is 
 like the rock in the pasture-stream, by which 
 we love to sit. Can I follow him, whatever 
 course ? Can I live, if I do not ? " 
 
 Puss Norcross is asleep. She is dreaming out 
 what she could make of a fine fellow with such 
 talents, if he were only submissive to her. 
 
 Paul Havens is not asleep. He is sitting by 
 his chamber window. He gazes out on the 
 silent city, stretching far away on every side. 
 It .seemed like that dark world in which he 
 was agonizing to find his fit and lawful place 
 to work. The miles of blinking lamps, the 
 flush upon the sky over the distant portions of 
 towns where clouds were hovering, from which 
 the call of an occasional loiterer or rumble of a 
 wandering vehicle; these were types to him of 
 his confusion of mind, the dim night wherein 
 he was picking out his way. 
 
 The solemn notes of a steeple clock, from 
 out that spire which reached up in the som- 
 ber sky before him, made him start.
 
 HO DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 " Great God ! Do all young hearts find it so 
 hard to know which way to go ? Or is it my 
 intractable self? What shall I say, when, to- 
 morrow, they talk business with me ? And 
 what is Clara going to say, after she has 
 slept ? Hast thou no help for me ? " And his 
 prayer wrestled wearily with its load.
 
 IN THE COUNTING-ROOM. Ill 
 
 VI. 
 
 IN THE COUNTING-ROOM. 
 
 t C "\7OTJ may as well go up to the store with 
 -*- us, Paul, this morning, now that you are 
 here," said Mr. Lemuel Norcross, after the family 
 breakfast. 
 
 " You will get a knowledge of the streets 
 that lead thither, but not much more." remarked 
 Mr. William, evidently inclined to excuse him 
 to the young ladies. 
 
 " Havens will be at the factories with me, 
 Bill, as I explained," said Mr. Lemuel. "My 
 idea was, when he and Clara shall have re- 
 turned he '11 graduate and that will give them 
 a month for Paris, fun before work, eh? 
 When you and I are dead and gone, Bill, it 
 will be Havens at Crosston, and your Andrew 
 here. Still Paul Havens needs to know a 
 mighty deal that he do n't yet know, about 
 this office. Know ! What do you know, my 
 boy ? " with a clap on the back. Lemuel Nor- 
 cross rarely, of late years, grew hilarious except
 
 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 over busines. " Come. On with your coat, 
 young fellow. Let 's be off ! " 
 
 Clara was prepared to hear Paul say, '"I shall 
 never go. I have no purpose to learn." Indeed, 
 she turned white with fear of her father's inopor- 
 tune outburst. She had resolved, all in a mo- 
 ment, to fly at her father and try, with the tyr- 
 anny that she had never yet failed to exert, what 
 a passion of petitions could do. Had Paul Ha- 
 vens said it, Clara Norcross would have said, 
 " I will follow Paul, papa ! " The woman of it. 
 That was the resolve that came out of her night, 
 counting the strokes of the steeple clock. 
 
 But Paul Havens did not say it. That was 
 the man of it, as hers had been the woman of 
 it. Well, partly so; but better say that was the 
 minister of it. Jonah strove hard against the 
 Nineveh journey. Who has written, or can write 
 out, the changeful struggle through which some 
 preachers come to final peace by obedience ? 
 Try it, ye mental philosophers ; here is a prob- 
 lem for you. Describe it : " Woe is me, if I 
 preach not the Gospel ! " Describe it : "I will 
 not ! I dare not ! I wiH be rich ! I will be 
 free ! I have no patience with men. I am not 
 unselfish enough." 
 
 Strange. In a night's rest it had returned,
 
 IN THE CCUNTING-RQOM. 113 
 
 the old self-will. Paul did not even look towards 
 Clara. He replied, very submissively, "Very well, 
 gentlemen, take me along, and show me where 
 where you make your money at this end of 
 the line." Still vacillating, for he did not say, 
 " where I 'm to work." Then he ventured to turn 
 his eyes on Clara. 
 
 Poor child, she stood in a sort of daze. Was 
 there any changeful shadow of dis-esteem deep- 
 ening into contempt in her great eyes ? No, 
 Paul Havens, not a shadow. Still it was not a 
 happy look that she gave you ; a most distressed 
 and confused, rather. After you are gone, she 
 will fly up-stairs and shut herself in her room. 
 There will come an unbending of the heroic 
 resolution she had taken, all in love for you. 
 She will be glad again ; she will jump again at 
 the conclusion that you are not to be a clergy- 
 man, after all. She will wonder at her own 
 somersaults of determination, yet will perform 
 them easily, child of luxury, by the help of her 
 love for you. 
 
 But to what a wrenching, to what a violence, 
 you are subjecting this, young heart, sir. Will 
 there be any truth left to her, following you to 
 and fro of your " duty " ? Beware of that, sir. 
 You have this trustful soul in your hands.
 
 114 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 Spoil it ? Have a care. Will you teach your fu- 
 ture wife to obey God, or defy him ? Another agony ! 
 
 Still, happy child, she found a way out for 
 him. She was saying all the day, to herself, as 
 she and her cousins were shopping about Tre- 
 mont and Washington Streets, or lunching, or 
 dreaming at the window, saying all the day to 
 herself, whatever she was saying audibly to 
 others, 
 
 " I am watching my hero ; he goes to battle ; 
 I wait ; I will share his fortunes ; strange battles 
 are his ; not many can ever see his sword 
 drawn ; his mother and father and I can see 
 him fighting such a battle ! I love him ! " 
 
 Paul Havens should have confided to her all 
 his struggle. Her trustful face invited it each 
 afternoon, as he returned from the great store 
 with Andrew, for the balance of the day with 
 the ladies. 
 
 But Havens feared to hurt her childlike faith. 
 He had himself inducted her into that faith ; 
 he had preached to her the religion of the 
 Cross. Then, too, he found himself actually 
 dreading her withdrawal .of an almost reverent 
 trust in himself ; she would think him vacillat- 
 ing. He, vacillating ? He, who could go through 
 fire and flood if only he could once be let go !
 
 IN THE COUNTING-ROOM. 
 
 Instead of trusting her, he contented himself 
 with loving her with a devotion that was ex- 
 pressed in every word, and in every attention 
 of these happy days. There were many of these 
 days. The vacation got lengthened ; Paul ran up 
 to college for a week, and then back again ; he 
 shouldered the easy senior studies along by 
 " make-ups," and managed to plan out the 
 month of January, off and on, in the city. 
 
 " We must have you, you know, at the store 
 just now." Mr. Lemuel Norcross insisted, 
 though he let him off good naturedly every after- 
 noon to the sleighing and the other festivities. 
 
 Not daring to thrust his doubts on Clara, 
 Paul did a worse thing. He confided in Puss. 
 Somehow it came about. He had frankly told 
 the latter. 
 
 "Yes, I am going into business, to please 
 Clara and my mother, and, I suppose I ought 
 to be able to add, myself." 
 
 " You do n't include your good father," Puss 
 replied, and saw it all in a flash, this brilliant 
 woman. They were sitting in the music-room 
 one evening, awaiting the return of Clara and her 
 father from some " shopping for poor mamma, 
 up there in the country." Puss had been wishing 
 for the chance to play to him, and had had it
 
 Il6 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 for over an hour of splencled performances on 
 piano and organ. Music unlocked Paul Havens' 
 confidences always ; as it does our air-castles 
 and gives the birds wing, reader. As the two 
 retired to the library and got places before the 
 cozy grate, Paul grew confidential at once. 
 Then, too, his idea was to make a sieve of 
 this mature female mind, sift his hurtful doubts 
 through it not harming 4 the fine steel sieve, of 
 of course, and trusting that the sieve would 
 give the grain to Clara. She would explain him 
 to Clara. The idea ! But then, that shows you 
 what sort of sentiments he entertained towards 
 Puss. Innocent enough of any thing forbidden. 
 
 Puss was all grace and pity at once. No 
 vulgar pity ; oh no ; but that exquisite com- 
 passion of a bright and understanding woman 
 for your mental woes. She was the very im- 
 personation of elegance in her personal contact 
 with you. You would feel the spell of it, to 
 see her fluttered down into the great chair just 
 opposite you, and all delightful attention, languid 
 hands, drooping, eyes beaming, respectful, differ- 
 ential, your obedient servant. 
 
 " No. My father is of another mind. But 
 
 the church is " and, as he hesitated, she 
 
 helped him right out with,
 
 IN THE COUNTING-ROOM. 
 
 " You have had a call to preach ? " 
 
 Paul started. But there was such a peculiar 
 smile upon her features that he asked, 
 
 "Do you believe in the Divine Call?" 
 
 "Well," she replied, ingenuous at once, "that's 
 a term elderly church people use. Papa, now, 
 thinks his pastor has heard Heaven speak in a 
 certain unmistakable, mentally perceived voice, 
 directing him to holy things. He reveres his 
 pastor as the Lord's anointed." 
 
 " Oh what a holy life the pastor of such a 
 man ought to lead ! " exclaimed Paul. " Think 
 of a churchful of such trustful souls looking into 
 a man's face! It shoulel cleanse him to the 
 very core ! And inspire him, too ! " 
 
 "But," she resumed, quite willing to delve 
 into psychological or theological depths, and 
 charmingly animated, " but I think we younger 
 people regard the ministry as a profession, 
 chosen on grounds of adaptation. We claim 
 the right to view a preacher identically as we 
 do an artist, an attorney, or a physician. Can 
 he please, is he aesthetic, is he scholarly, does 
 he minister to our moral and intellectual cul- 
 ture?" 
 
 " Therefore, God help me, I will never stand 
 in the pulpit for your generation. I am absolved.
 
 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 If I have ever been called, I am excused by 
 the fact that the people of the church in my 
 time recognize no such call. That is what 
 is coming. Then the preacher is a mere 
 public servant, in the most harrowing and critical 
 service on God's earth ! " 
 
 " You kindle, Mr. Havens," she said, growing 
 calm herself at once and delighted that she had 
 by so much the mastery of this outspoken giant. 
 "Times are changed, you know full well. The 
 church is no longer doctrinal ; it is social ; it 
 is sesthetical ; it affords an opportunity for 
 ethical activity. These are the laity's uses. 
 Your uses, sir, of the church would be a com- 
 mand of men, a ladder of fame, a mastery over 
 your times, the companionship with the most 
 elegant people of this city, for instance." 
 
 " What ! and no doctrines ? " 
 
 " Believe what is truth to you, of course." 
 
 " Yes, and the torture of it ! To be held fast 
 to doctrine by the old, and to be held fast to 
 aesthetics by the young ! Mostly, not what you 
 say, but how you say it ! " This also very ve- 
 hemently. 
 
 " Have you a message ? " very calmly. 
 
 " Some direct truth to speak to my fellow- 
 men, do you mean, Miss Norcross ? Indeed, I
 
 IN THE COUNTING-ROOM. I 19 
 
 hope I have or should have, if I were to 
 undertake it." 
 
 "What now?" 
 
 "I would have liked to tell the poor world's 
 Margarets and Fausts, the way better than de- 
 spair; of the Lamb of God which taketh away the 
 sins of the world ! " 
 
 She looked upon him with a single ejaculation 
 only on her lips. " The opera night ! " He had 
 risen to his feet. His imposing presence, his rich 
 tones, his handsome young face glowing with emo- 
 tion from the pent-up passion of many days of 
 silence on this awful theme of his thoughts, these 
 with her own self-acknowledged approval of him, 
 made Paul Havens stand forth, at last, Fidelia 
 Norcross' long sought ideal. She clasped her 
 long fingers before her. Her really fine eyes 
 grew large in unconscious admiration. She was re- 
 solved. She spoke with sudden and intense fervor. 
 
 " Preach, sir ! Preach that, if you will ? " 
 
 " Miss Norcross, do you believe in that hope 
 by Christ?" 
 
 "I I could* believe any thing that you 
 preached ! " 
 
 "That?" 
 
 "What?" "How?" 
 
 "Do you believe that Jesus Christ can save sad
 
 120 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 souls save Gretchen ? Save Faust, even, sold 
 to the devil ? Save the bad hearts of your 
 North End Mission ? " He stood before her, 
 quivering. 
 
 " You greatly move me, sir. Your ideas are 
 majestic. I say to you that you can not remain 
 in obscurity the whole city would come to hear 
 and heed a man whose soul was under such sub- 
 jection to an idea! We do not see men in agony 
 over any truth, in our " 
 
 " Agony, Miss Norcross ! Sometimes I am in 
 agony because I fear / dorit believe it!" 
 
 " Oh sir, say not so ! " It was a genuine com- 
 passion that uttered that cry. Not that this girl, 
 all devoted to ambition, understood him. No ; 
 not as well as sweet, simple Clara Norcross 
 would. But that he thought she might, if he 
 tried again. 
 
 " You mistake me ! " he said. " If you will in- 
 dulge me, I do n't care a rush for the renown of 
 it. It is not ambition. That must not be the 
 motive !" 
 
 "Forgive me," she said, seeing her mistake. "I 
 thought out loud when I exclaimed about the 
 whole city heeding you." 
 
 " Now, then, please hear me again," he ' re- 
 sumed almost pleadingly. "There are times when
 
 IN THE COUNTING-ROOM. 121 
 
 my very soul is on fire to proffer this Christ-care 
 to the suffering world." He stopped short. 
 
 "Yes. It is papa's doctrine. The old-fashioned 
 doctrine." She spoke eagerly, and leaning forward. 
 
 "Then there are hours, alas, when I doubt the 
 very truth itself !" Again pausing 
 
 " Because you do not obey." 
 
 " Which is good mental philosophy, you keen 
 reader of mind," he added. "Then, at other 
 times, this plentiful, peaceful career in silk weav- 
 ing offers itself." 
 
 " Which you will not find peaceful, sir," she 
 responded. 
 
 " Miss Norcross, could you tell your cousin, 
 after this, that I was yet worthy of her love?" 
 
 It came so suddenly, this unmasking of his 
 real purpose. For a moment, she was silent. 
 It needed a moment to recover her self-possession. 
 But, quick, Puss Norcross was self-possessed 
 again. She began to discuss the theological point. 
 And this half-wild fellow did not detect the eva- 
 sion. He fell into her line. After a little, he 
 yielded and talked welcome doubts with her. He 
 almost forgot Clara for the next half hour. 
 
 Nor was this the only time, those days, that 
 his confused mind rested itself in the sympa- 
 thizing discussion of doctrines. For Puss Nor-
 
 122 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 cross grew rapidly ardent in her attachment for 
 him. But she was shut up to a queer sort of 
 love making on her part, namely, interviews for 
 theological discussion. 
 
 Her ardor grew by the very hopelessness of 
 her case. She saw his affection for the other 
 young creature at every turn of her eyes. He 
 was perfectly frank ; he was transparently hon- 
 est ; except that she saw that he did not trust 
 Clara with the secret of his own mental woes. 
 
 But Puss Norcross was of that model that is 
 wonderfully excited to exertion by obstacles. 
 She began to read all the prevalent doubts and 
 its refutation, that she could find in the libra- 
 ries, and showed herself capable of finding more 
 of this hard reading, or passages that she 
 thought she wanted, than most ladies who search 
 those famous Boston alcoves. 
 
 " Loan him to me for a half hour, Clara," 
 she would say, when the family were assembled 
 for the afternoon chats on nothings. " We have 
 a knotty question about inspiration. See?" and 
 sheT would hold up some new book. 
 
 " An hour if you want him for such uses," 
 Clara generally responded, for her heart was so 
 sure of him. And in all these recent days Paul 
 Havens had never once recurred to the one dread
 
 IN THE* COUNTING-ROOM. 123 
 
 question of the ministry. Indeed, he had shown 
 himself an assiduous student of business, going 
 with the gentlemen every morning to the store. 
 It was fully understood here, at distant Cross- 
 ton, and at the college, that this was his lawful 
 excuse for so prolonged a visit to the city. 
 
 " We know now imperiously impatient Lemuel 
 Norcross is," Paul's mother had remarked over 
 the situation as the son still wrote "from Bos- 
 ton and the store." 
 
 " Yes, that we do ! " sighed the pastor, keep- 
 ing his secret from the invalid and wondering 
 what it would all come to. The one was glad, 
 the other sad, as they sat about the evening 
 fire of logs in the distant hill country parsonage, 
 these winter nights. 
 
 Paul and Puss talking doctrines in the draw- 
 ing-room evening by evening; Clara trying to be 
 patient with the small talk of Minnie, Andrew, 
 and her aunt in the library. Clara could not 
 help being reassured by the prosy business con- 
 versation of her father and uncle. Good, obedient 
 Mr. William submitted, as he always had to 
 when his brother was in town, to the bringing 
 the shop into the home. Clara heard it often 
 with a quick and pleased ear. 
 
 " Havens takes to it very rapidly, Bill ; you
 
 124 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 must confess that I have made no mistake in 
 the boy." 
 
 To which her uncle would respond, " Yes 
 Lem, your success in selecting other men to 
 carry out your plans has always been remark- 
 able." 
 
 "A mighty bright fellow, this Paul!" This 
 her father. 
 
 Or it was some snatch of a plan, sweet to 
 her as a song, in which Paul's name was woven 
 with Marseilles, or Paris, or the Crosston factory, 
 by the silken cords of the business. 
 
 " He is fighting his battle to such a victory 
 as will please me," she would say to herself. 
 And often, if, on her pillow at night, she had 
 come to resolve "I will ask him, frankly, in 
 the morning ; I must know," why, the two coupe's 
 the next morning, that rattled him off with the 
 other gentlemen direct from breakfast, reassured 
 her. 
 
 It is curious, but true, that many women live 
 as loving wives, and beloved, yet, under a half 
 fear (is it fear?), refrain from asking their good 
 men some questions that they would give the 
 world to have answered without the asking. 
 Clara hoped, and took Hope's answer. Who has 
 not ? The memory of former interviews, more-
 
 IN THE COUNTING-ROOM. 12$ 
 
 over, in the Crosston mansion, in which she had 
 seen something of his strife of mind, was to 
 this happy girl terrible. She could not endure 
 to have the scenes repeated. Those conversations 
 had wrought her to such pitch of excitement ; 
 they had made life seem so dark. She preferred 
 to live in the sunshine. Selfishly ? No, if you 
 consider her indulged life ; nor, again, if you 
 remember that the sight of his distress was her 
 most potent distress. To many women the hus- 
 band is prophet, priest, and king, that is, if 
 he is wise enough, good enough, and great 
 enough. Clara gave Paul this triple crown over 
 herself ; and she would doubtless have confessed, 
 though she had hardly so worded it to herself 
 unaided, that the sight of her lord disputing his 
 duty was too sad to look upon. Her heart said, 
 what many another woman's has : " My hero 
 knows best. He will do right ; he is doing 
 right every day." She felt this sentiment un- 
 mistakably when, one evening, as his custom was, 
 her uncle had asked, as he closed the Bible 
 reading, 
 
 " Lem, shall we be led by you in prayer?" 
 Her father had turned to Paul, passing the 
 compliment on to him, and quite willing, by the 
 way, to show off this added accomplishment of
 
 126 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 the young partner before his brother, " Paul, 
 you take my place." 
 
 This Paul had done in the truest and most 
 reverent spirit. There are public prayers and 
 public prayers. But this was so natural, so sin- 
 cere, so simple in its requests, and so rich in 
 its diction. Clara thought how much like he 
 Scripture prayers it sounded ; as well it might, 
 and all public prayers ought, for it abounded in 
 Scripture, and was modeled on. these model 
 prayers. 
 
 " He is my priest ! " she said. She thrilled 
 with his tones. He seemed to lift her soul 
 to God. Hoping for him, fearing for him 
 at first, and almost grieved by her father's cold 
 tones, she lost her solicitude in self-forgetful- 
 ness, and forgetfulness of all else but him who 
 was addressed. She had never till that evening, 
 heard Paul's voice in prayer. Do you remem- 
 ber such an occasion, reader? The first time 
 you heard your father at the family altar just 
 set up? A husband's, a lover's first audible 
 penitence and petition to heaven ? Then you can 
 understand Clara, as she found herself in tears. 
 
 " He is my priest," she had said again, as 
 she got upon her feet and went out of the 
 room for a little to recover her calm.
 
 IN THE COUNTING-ROOM. 
 
 Therefore, no questions ; Paul will do right. 
 Paul sees his way clear to be a merchant. 
 Puss can have him in the parlor, discussing 
 modern doubts, all she wishes. Puss is deceived ; 
 she has not yet found her clergyman. 
 
 But Puss, in that next room that final evening, 
 later on when Paul's visit ended, was content. 
 She always assumed the posture of inquiring skep- 
 ticism. She simply acted on the resolution, " I '11 
 not let silk and finance fill all his mind. He 
 shall be daily excited with these other themes." 
 To a mind like Paul Havens' nothing fixed be- 
 lief like the doubt that attacked it. 
 
 " I am preaching to you, here, evening after 
 evening," he said to Puss, with a laugh. 
 
 "You are in good practice, and coming on," 
 she quietly replied. 
 
 " I confess that your conversations have greatly 
 stimulated me, Miss Norcross." 
 
 " Think of thousands, instead of one ! " she an- 
 swered; which reply turned him off the track of 
 observation, or he must have seen the quick flush 
 in her face. She was wise enough to know how 
 intense is the interest that is kindled by religious 
 conversation. After all, theological discussion is 
 not a bad vehicle for lovers to take their early 
 rides in. He had, indeed, become much more in-
 
 128 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 terested in her than he knew himself. And trust 
 her to detect it. 
 
 Neither was she playing a part. His doubts 
 had actually injured her. She said : 
 
 " I fear I am not strong enough to be a father 
 confessor to you. I suppose I never had much 
 religion at any time ; it has been a mere, benev- 
 olence, a thing of taste and intellectual culture 
 with me._ Oh, sir, it seems a fearful thing to me, 
 that one so gifted as you are, and believing as I 
 am convinced you do, should dare go and make 
 money and leave this suffering world untaught." 
 
 "You give me pain," he said. "Am I, then, 
 to confide in no one, but I stab the kind heart 
 that welcomes me?" 
 
 " Because, sir, you seem to us one of those few 
 strong fellow-creatures born to keep us all, not 
 to hinder or be helped." 
 
 " God help me, I '11 not hinder you, my kind 
 friend," he added with decided feeling. Then he 
 fell to work with a will, to unsay all that he had 
 ever expressed of unbelief. He grew eloquent in 
 his advocacy of the truth. He refuted error for 
 her, question after question. He asserted dogma 
 after dogma. She listened under a spell. He 
 spoke from the heart. At length, in a pause, 
 she thrust at him,
 
 IN THE COUNTING-ROOM. 
 
 "Sir, you will never weave a yard of silk!" 
 
 He got upon his feet, and stood for a mo- 
 ment speechless, while the emotion engendered 
 by his burning evangel, completely mastered him. 
 Wonderful emotion that ! The thrilling delight 
 that comes from proclaiming the truths of God ! 
 Is there any other joy like it? Is there any 
 other passion of the soul so great and high as 
 that which surges, like a rushing, mighty wind, 
 through the Christian heart just after it has ut- 
 tered its belief into some ear that was heavy 
 with unbelief ? And is there any other look on 
 human face like that look ; eager, catching at 
 every word ; submissive, even to a positive en- 
 slaving by the welcome truth, after despairing 
 doubt ; a look of one made glad beyond all 
 hoped-for gladness, which this most intelligent 
 woman had been bending on him ? Clara Nor- 
 cross might have seen that look of faith and 
 felt no pang of jealousy. 
 
 Loving Clara Norcross with all his heart, yet 
 Paul's interest in this other woman, whose relig- 
 ious life he had cruelly imperilled and was now 
 trying to rescue, was, for the moment, unspeak- 
 able. He said, 
 
 " Miss Norcross, I have now done my best to 
 undo the harm I have inflicted by my frankly
 
 13 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 expressed disputes with my duty to preach. 
 Understand, now and finally, that, whatever I 
 may do, the religion of the New Testament is 
 true and firm as the hills of God ! I shall 
 never resume the rehearsal of my woes to you, or 
 any other mortal unless it be to my own father. 
 I have never yet found a human being whom the 
 story of my debate with duty did not harm. It 
 seems like poison. God help you to believe, as, 
 God witness, I do believe ! " He turned to re- 
 enter the library, 
 
 "One moment ! " She actually ventured to 
 catch at his hand. 
 
 " Well, dear lady, say on," he replied, yield- 
 ing his hand heartily, indeed proffering it, to 
 relieve her of seeming to herself indelicate. 
 
 " For all that, you yet will do yourself this 
 great wrong and dislike ? Oh, sir, for the good 
 you have done me, let my gratitude take the 
 shape of exhortation. Turn your back on this 
 money-making ! Live' the truth ! " 
 
 For a moment he cast his eyes down at their 
 two clasped hands. He raised his free hand 
 once to his breast, then let it fall irresolute. 
 Then, suddenly decided, he took out a letter from 
 the pocket his hand had sought. 
 
 " Miss Norcross, I wish to retain your esteem.
 
 IN THE COUNTING-ROOM. 
 
 I will show you this letter ; that is the very 
 latest and final word of explanation which I will 
 make, to man or woman, for my proposed con- 
 duct. Read what my mother says ; then tell me, 
 if you can, I may not go make money and build 
 for her and my father a home." 
 
 The letter: " My mind is never without your 
 image, my son ; my lips are rarely without a 
 prayer for you, our hope, our precious one, these 
 days. The two months since your return have 
 seemed the longest of all your nearly four years' 
 absence from us. Need I say, they have been 
 the most anxious for poor mother's head and 
 heart ? For you are now with your strong 
 young foot upon the very threshold of life's real 
 work. Papa tells me, every day, something of 
 his own memories of the trembling, eager, last 
 days of college. I ask him all about it, that I, 
 a woman, may know just how to feel for you ; 
 that I may be your confidante. I am, am I 
 not? 
 
 " Speaking of papa, I can see, unmistakably, 
 that he fails in strength. Oh, it breaks my heart 
 to write it, but he looks so tired ! He thinks 
 me the only invalid. Would God it were so ! 
 But it is not. He is older than a year ago by 
 five years' weariness. The church is restive ;
 
 I3 2 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 the congregation talks of a new and younger 
 man, especially ever since we got into this ele- 
 gant, new, and smarter edifice. If it were not 
 for Mr. Norcross' iron hand, I know that we 
 could not stay here. Yet it seems sacrilegious 
 that the power of money should so largely enter 
 into the control of the church. We, papa and 
 I, feel the chagrin of it all the more that the 
 money-power is in our favor just now. Are we 
 hirelings ? 
 
 " But I will not vex you with troubles with 
 which you are familiar from boyhood and, 
 thank God ! are soon to know no more. I was 
 only thinking aloud of the rest that poor papa 
 needs." 
 
 " The other portions, Miss Norcross, are im- 
 material," said Paul, who had carefully watched 
 her progress over the two neat little pages, and 
 now reached for the letter. With a voice almost 
 hoarse with his emotions, he said, " I received 
 that letter the next morning after my visit with 
 you to the opera. Not a waking hour, but some 
 sentence of it has been in mind." 
 
 " I have often heard how sweet and lovely 
 your parents are, sir," said Puss. But what " 
 
 " Miss Norcross, that weary man and his mar- 
 tyr wife are going to have rest ! Money ? Why,
 
 IN THE COUNTING-ROOM. 133 
 
 that man has toiled for thirty years amid the 
 churches, and given us bread and clothes. But 
 to-day he is dependent upon the month's check 
 that Mr. Norcross, treasurer, sends him, and has 
 not a penny beside ! Money, Miss ? I tell you, 
 so help me God ! that that man shall have rest 
 within six months, and a long rest, too ! The 
 first disbursement that I make of the ten thou- 
 sand dollars that is to be placed to my credit on 
 the first of next July I then enter this co- 
 partnership will be three thousand dollars pay- 
 able to Sylvester Havens ! If my dear mother, 
 whom may Heaven preserve, is able, I trust that 
 next year will see these two, herself with father, 
 fancy free in Europe. Money ! Why, I could 
 laugh as I think of it." 
 
 "But your mother says of money " 
 
 "That it is a profane tyrant in the church. 
 But this is not in the church. It is my money. 
 I earn it. Why may ten thousand other Chris- 
 tians spend all their lives earning it, and not I, and 
 yet be a Christian ? Not for self, Miss Norcross, 
 but for the good I can do with it. Why not ? 
 That is the strain in which your pious Christian 
 merchant, sitting in the pews, reassures himself. 
 Why not I, son of the pulpit ? " 
 
 " Because of some possible voice from heaven,
 
 134 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 sir, that says to you, 'Is it a small thing that 
 thou shouldst be my servant ? ' ' 
 
 " You woman ! " 
 
 " Because, if you put your father and mother 
 between you and duty, God may give them an- 
 other rest, sir, long and sweet, I doubt not, to 
 them, a rest that remaineth to the people of 
 God." 
 
 He broke from her as if she had struck him, 
 and walked towards the library. The Voice had 
 said as much to him, but no mortal voice before 
 had spoken it. The memory of the clear, delicate 
 tones of this woman's voice was to haunt him for 
 many a day. 
 
 As for the speaker, she flew off up to her 
 room, in a whirl of excitement, thinking that she 
 should never have said it, wondering how she 
 came to think of it, and asserting to herself over 
 and over that she could not explain to herself 
 why she had so spoken. " He will hate me, 
 impudent, bold, officious ! " 
 
 But Paul Havens was far from hating the 
 speaker of that last tremendous warning. Just 
 the contrary. 
 
 Sweeping across her room, kicking her slippered 
 feet vengefully against her stiff brocade, swirling 
 her train as she turned and turned, stamping the
 
 IN THE COUNTING-ROOM. 135 
 
 foot upon the thick carpet, hands clasped in 
 front, then behind, this stately woman would have 
 liked to inflict some penance on herself. " I have 
 spoiled all all ! " with vigorous gesture. " What 
 avail now to whisper to my father that his pro- 
 posed young partner can have no heart in the 
 business, that he is God's messenger? He is 
 fixed. I have crystallized his disobedience. Be- 
 sides, if it were not so, I have disgusted him 
 with my bold ofiQciousness !" Pacing, pacing, 
 weeping ! Yes, with high excitement and chagrin.
 
 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 VII. 
 
 BUILDING A MANSION. 
 
 i t r I ^HIS is the corner," exclaimed Clara Nor- 
 -- cross, touching the bell to halt the 
 coachman. 
 
 " Nothing could be found more choice, I should 
 say," responded Paul Havens. "Take that present 
 house down, I suppose." 
 
 "Oh, certainly; though papa laughed at what 
 he called my extravagant notions. He said that, 
 in the bargain for the property, the house was 
 valued at more than twenty good New Hamp- 
 shire farms." 
 
 "Still, if it is your idea to build a city home, 
 you will never be content with any thing but 
 your own idea, little bird, from cellar to gable." 
 
 " Of course not. Let 's get out. The snow is 
 very hard, like sand, indeed. That 's why I took 
 the carriage. Yes, I have rubbers, you dear Mr. 
 Caretaker. Let 's look at the street from the 
 windows." And she had fluttered on too fast for 
 him fairly up the front stoop of the vacant 
 dwelling.
 
 BUILDING A MANSION. 137 
 
 "Why, Clara," said Paul, "have you the key?" 
 
 " Indeed, I have, you dear boy," fumbling at 
 her little bag. "No, that's the deed," as a 
 long paper came first to view. "Here, take it. 
 But the key, the key! Oh, here it is." 
 
 Paul opened the door for her and stepped into 
 the echoing hall. She flew past him as happy 
 as a bird, up the dusty stairway, in at the first 
 door, to the front windows, throwing wide open 
 the blinds. 
 
 "There! light of day, come into my home! 
 Hurrah ! " she exclaimed, no one seeing or hear- 
 ing but Paul. " See ! away there ! and there ! 
 and there ! Will it not be a cheerful outlook, 
 Paul ? Just think of broad windows, higher, larger 
 than these old-fashioned things. The workmen 
 are to go to tearing this down at once. Then the 
 building ; all ready for us by the time we return 
 from Europe, a year from now ! " 
 
 "Well, you child," said Paul, "if you'll give 
 me a chance to edge in a word, when did you 
 get all this ? Here 's your deed thrust, all 
 crumpled, into this bag, your key, your plan " 
 
 "No, the plans are not yet drawn." 
 
 ".Well, this important paper " 
 
 " Oh, yes, I forgot ; papa said I was to hand 
 it to you the first thing this morning, and
 
 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 you would bring it down to the office, or some- 
 where."^ 
 
 "How did you get it?" 
 
 " Papa made a little scene, last night, and for- 
 mally handed it over to me, while you, sir," 
 this with mock reproach and some gravity not all 
 assumed "were in that wicked parlor having 
 such a long conference with that mischief, Puss ! " 
 She gave him one searching look with her brown 
 eyes. Then she broke into a smiJe of perfect 
 trust, and put up her lips. 
 
 Paul laughed aloud. The empty chambers 
 echoed it ! The echo was not pleasant ; and the 
 young man looked over his shoulder, as if half- 
 expecting to see some one. But, instantly recov- 
 ering himself, he stooped to take her salutation, 
 when she said, 
 
 " I '11 withdraw the proffer," suiting the action 
 to the word, and turning her head. 
 
 "You are so slow, Paul Havens, this happy 
 morning. But no, no. I forgot ; it is because 
 you go back to that dreadful college again to- 
 night. I ought to be sad, too. But the new 
 house is such an idea." Then she turned her 
 face to him again. 
 
 " So your father made a scene over it, eh ? " 
 
 "Yes. Let's look at what do you call it?
 
 BUILDING A MANSION, 139 
 
 a fee simple ? The paper ! I never saw a deed. 
 Oh, for a chair two chairs ! Here, in the win- 
 dow sill and the morning sun, Paul." 
 
 " No, happy heart ; you '11 take cold here. 
 You should have read your deed last night. I 
 suppose that 's why you happen to have it, that 
 you might read it, like an intelligent girl. I '11 
 take care of it. This is all elegant in prospect. 
 Hurrah, say I ! " 
 
 " Paul ! " 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " You awake such dreadful echoes in the old 
 shell ! " she said, coming close up to him. 
 
 Then they went slowly down, out, locked the 
 door, she talking such a merry ripple all the 
 while, and he happy for the moment, as he 
 always was when in the presence of this living 
 sunbeam. 
 
 " Left the blinds open, just like a man," she 
 exclaimed, clapping her hands. 
 
 "You can shut them after I am gone," said he. 
 
 " Gone ? Yes, but you '11 be up at Crosston 
 by a month from now. Then we shall be to- 
 gether again." 
 
 Yes, vacation March first." 
 
 Wheels of carriages, wheels of cars, wheels of 
 time. There is nothing to be written of this
 
 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 interval, till the month of March, but of the 
 rolling of these wheels. The wheels that rolled 
 safely, taking Clara and her father back to the 
 frozen, glorious North ; the wheels that trundled 
 Miss Fidelia Norcross to and fro of church, 
 mission, opera, theatre, shopping, and society ; the 
 wheels that took Paul Havens to his books again. 
 These movements we can describe. But those 
 other wheels which run the clock-work of sharp 
 Time, and pass the product on to long eternity, 
 wheels that turn softly while we sleep, while we 
 wake, and work, and forget that they are turn- 
 ing ; wheels that bring the weights of destiny 
 to the ground and the hour-hands to the 
 moments for which we were born ; wheels that we 
 can not see, that mark out decisions for us, and 
 without asking our consent; who can tell of 
 these ? Paul Havens could not ; he was busy 
 with studies. He had chosen his life-work. He 
 had told his final choice to pure-minded Stephen 
 Crane, and shut that good friend up to prayer 
 alone. 
 
 And yet the wheels were running. It is the 
 first of March. The wintry snows lie cold and 
 crisp upon the New Hampshire hills, blinking 
 back defiance to the lengthening sun of spring. 
 They pile yet high the cheery grates in the
 
 BUILDING A MANSION, 
 
 parsonage and in the palace of the village auto- 
 crat. Paul is at home ; Clara is at home, and 
 literally as much at home in one house as the 
 other. The cousins may run up from Boston 
 to increase the indoor social joy, and to "eat 
 maple-sugar," in frolicsome visits to these hill 
 farms, where stand the naked forests, waiting for 
 the altar-fires of the sugar-makers. 
 
 Paul has brought up Stephen Crane, which is 
 both pleasing and displeasing to his mother. 
 Pleasing, because this gentle spirit wins for him- 
 self, everywhere, a loving welcome ; but almost 
 too warm a welcome from Miss Nora Havens, 
 sweet girl, and like him in so many tastes. 
 This is Steve's third vacation visit. Africa? 
 Poor mother of the Havens brood, have you 
 nursed her for this ? Does God ask yet this 
 one sacrifice more ? Now that you think of it, 
 wonderful heart of a mother, is there any dif- 
 ference between the children ? But think of the 
 honor of it, good soul ! So all the deacons and 
 godly folk would talk, the honor of it. Pos- 
 sibly, within a year, the honors will begin. This 
 young creature will stand amid a few flowers 
 that have been sent down to the ship by the 
 Christians of the city ; stand beside her pale- 
 faced husband, sustained by an unearthly resolu-
 
 I4 2 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 tion. Oh, God only knows how they are 
 sustained ! And then she will go forth to battle 
 with those weak hands against a continent of 
 darkness. Possibly, some one will remember that 
 you had the pangs of birth for such a heroine. 
 Then, in time, two graves ! The honor ? Are 
 you not ambitious, ye wealthy, scheming mothers, 
 who possibly read this ? Possibly the honors 
 are not distributed in this world.
 
 THE OLD SCIIOOL-PIOUSE. 143 
 
 VIII. 
 
 THE OLD SCHOOL-HOUSE. 
 
 ET 'S all go with your papa to-morrow 
 night." 
 
 "A harmless proposition, Miss Mistress-of -cere- 
 monies." 
 
 Paul and Clara were conferring together on the 
 possible entertainments of these days. She pro- 
 posed, he assented. 
 
 "Harmless," she resumed. "It will be right 
 jolly. He preaches at the school-house at 'the 
 Four Corners,' at early lamp-light. Now, Paul, do 
 please give out the notice just as your father 
 does. Hush! Be still, all of you!" she ex- 
 claimed to the parsonage sitting-room full of the 
 two families ; for even Mr. Lemuel Norcross, very 
 agreeable and cracking dry jokes, had found time 
 to spend one evening and return the pastor's 
 many visits. "Hush! I say!" Clara demanded. 
 " Paul can counterfeit his father's very tones of 
 voice. Paul ? " She stood waiting with pretty 
 expectancy. 
 
 "Four weeks from to-night," Paul began, in a
 
 144 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 loud tone, "Providence permitting, I will preach 
 here again. Meeting' at early candle-light ! " 
 
 " Perfect, perfect ! " shouted a half-dozen voices. 
 
 " If I had shut my eyes," said Nora, " I 
 should certainly have said it was papa who 
 spoke ! " 
 
 "You are my other self," said Mr. Havens, 
 smiling, yet wearing a thoughtful look. " I think 
 the people would be quite willing to hear you, 
 my son." 
 
 " I was thinking, coming up on the cars, 
 father," Paul replied, with a sudden gravity and 
 tenderness in his tone, that every one noticed, 
 "that I had heard you preach but once, for 
 more than a year." 
 
 Clara gave him a quick look. That last hear- 
 ing was just before Paul's mid-winter return to 
 college. The identical date of the beginnings of 
 his late struggles of mind ! Had the preaching 
 voice of his father any thing to do with her 
 lover's unrest ? 
 
 "Seriously, father," Paul resumed, "I can not 
 describe nor explain the peculiar power my own 
 father's tones and utterances have on me, as I 
 sit fronting him in the pews. I have often 
 wondered if other ministers' children confessed to 
 the same thrilling spell."
 
 THE OLD SCHOOL-HOUSE. 145 
 
 What say you, ministers^ children who read 
 this? Returning after long absence to hear it 
 again ; hearing it as age has begun to shatter 
 it and you think of the time when it shall be for- 
 ever hushed, father's voice ; hearing it rising in 
 masterly utterance, or almost sobbing with its 
 tender plea, father's voice the voice of God to 
 you ; what say you of its spell ? 
 
 A harmless proposition, Paul had pronounced 
 this excursion, and Clara could not understand 
 him. Paul's destiny will exchange wheels for 
 runners, to-morrow's moon-lit evening. We shall 
 get on fast, very fast towards our destiny now. 
 We will all go, two good sleigh-loads, with this 
 white-haired, weary-faced man, whom we all love. 
 
 "He is not fit for it," Mrs. Havens said. 
 " He has not been strong enough, all this winter 
 long, for these bleak rides to the distant school- 
 houses and his preaching. But he will persist." 
 
 "Do you remember, Paul," said the pastor, 
 trying to speak out very cheerily and strong, 
 " what good times you and I used to have on 
 these night journeys? How I used to finally put 
 you down between my knees, under the buffalo 
 robes " 
 
 " And sing me to sleep, dear father ? " Paul 
 exclaimed. " The music of the bells, the run-
 
 J4 6 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 ners and your hymns. God be praised for 
 such a sire, sir!" And he cleared his throat. 
 " Father, I have no sweeter memories than 
 these." 
 
 Why, then, should he acknowledge to himself 
 any misgiving or apprehension at the thought of 
 such sweet memories made real again? What 
 did Puss Norcross say, that last night in Bos- 
 ton ? What waking hour had passed, since she 
 said it, that Paul Havens had not thought of 
 it ? What did this white face of his father 
 seem to say now ? That other rest, not of 
 this world ! 
 
 It was one night in a thousand. The bells 
 upon the horses glistened with the diamond dust 
 of hoar frost from their wearers' wreathing 
 breaths. You could not touch a door latch, a 
 gate latch, a buckle on the harness, nor any 
 metallic thing, but it burned like fire. The river, 
 that, opposite the parsonage, murmured over the 
 dam at night when the mills were still, from 
 its strip of black, open water sent up clouds of 
 incense to the peerless blue of a cloudless sky. 
 
 " That tells how cold it is, better than a 
 thermometer," said Paul, as he drew on his 
 gloves. " See the river breathe, Steve. It is 
 warmer than this air."
 
 THE OLD SCHOOL-HOUSE. 147 
 
 " Oh, such a night ! such a world ! And to 
 think that this is but his footstool ! " exclaimed 
 the reverent student, a southerner by birth. 
 He stood transfixed and caught at Nora's arm 
 to halt her. 
 
 " Right in that first sleigh, you two," Clara 
 directed them. " And, Mamma Norcross, you 
 and Pastor Havens, the next seat. That fills 
 mamma's sleigh. John will drive for you, mam- 
 ma, dear." In the cold light she stood so warm 
 of color that the moon could not, at its very 
 full, lend ghostly hues to her ; stood mounted 
 upon a pedestal of upthrown snow at the path- 
 side, and so pretty in robes of fur, this gener- 
 alissimo whose sword was a muff. 
 
 "Jim!" to her stable-boy who drove up the 
 next sleigh, " Mr. Havens will drive my ponies ; 
 you can go back now. You and I the front 
 seat, Paul. Bella take the back. We shall meet 
 Cousin Andrew at the depot when the Montreal 
 train arrives. Got a telegram ! Hurry ! we 
 should be there. It must be nearly six o'clock " 
 
 Now we are off. Now we have Andrew. 
 Now we are clear of the village streets. Now 
 we break through the roadside fence, though 
 there are no fences to be seen, and take to the 
 glorious highway of the glassy river for at least
 
 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 three miles. Crip ! crip ! crip ! the steel-shod 
 strokes of flying hoofs as rapid as the pulses 
 of these happy hearts. We note the golden 
 lane of light from the moon across the glare of 
 the dead stream, and the " imps of skaters," 
 curling their dark forms in and out of the ray. 
 We -shudder as we gaze out where the "air- 
 holes " show the black throat of the cruel river. 
 We hear the far-off melody of some farmer's 
 sleigh-bells jogging towards us ; and now meet- 
 ing them, we vote them, short-strapped necklace 
 of big bells about old Dobbins' neck, more 
 musical in the echoing night than our new-fash- 
 ioned strings of tiny silvers which can only 
 " crash ! crash ! crash ! " We thought there was 
 a north wind before we started ; but we feel 
 none on our cheeks as we speed southward, a 
 part of the wind, on its very wings ! We race 
 for John ahead ; but the interval does not 
 lessen, and it will not, for John knows how the 
 pastor revels in the movements of good horses. 
 There is not to be found a fleeter than these 
 two spans. 
 
 " We will catch them ! " shouts Clara, and 
 seizes the reins from Paul. " Papa told me the 
 ponies could outstrip mamma's." 
 
 How we leap into the cold air till we actually
 
 THE OLD SCHOOL-HOUSE. 1 49 
 
 feel a wind upon our cheeks. We outstrip the 
 north wind ! We look down to see a little fizz 
 of sparks, from these steel runners here and there 
 as the ice is roughened. This charioteer! That 
 Jehu ahead ! But Clara loves the beasts. 
 
 " It is too tremendous a pace, Paul," handing 
 over the reins. 
 
 "And your hands are freezing, Clara. Too 
 much city, this winter." 
 
 " But we turn here," she directs. " We climb 
 the hills for two miles. Let 's sing." 
 
 We crawl slowly up the steep, singing hymns, 
 singing college songs, singing the chorus over and 
 over, because our voices seem to learn blending in 
 the choruses. There are little shouts of protest 
 as we catch at snow-laden evergreens and shake 
 their ermine down upon us. The pines and hem- 
 locks which we shook thus, seem to tremble, 
 with a sense of insult, as if they were the high- 
 priests of these solitary hillsides, asleep before 
 their altars till we plucked them ' by the beard. 
 We slowly enter the solemn aisles of the forest 
 just beyond. Beech, birch, and maple, lofty and 
 uncovered as becomes the congregation, standing 
 erect as if in prayer-time, after the manner of the 
 older New Englanders ; these great trees are all 
 of the first settlers. Or the towering congrega-
 
 15 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 tion breaks forth into praises as we pass. Doubt- 
 less it was the upland winds; but we love to 
 think it is these giant worshipers, murmuring their 
 deep thanksgiving to their God. 
 
 We gradually grow hushed ; we feel the reac- 
 tion, possibly ; or we own the noble spell ; or 
 we are busy with our thoughts. We have no- 
 ticed, all along, that Paul, at our side, was in 
 one of his quiet moods, though cheerful enough, 
 no doubt. 
 
 " In spite of all I can do, you will not come 
 out of your reverie ? " A little, low aside, this, 
 from Clara to Paul. 
 
 " I must attend to the horses, you know," he 
 replies, with a square look at her, sincere 
 enough in its tenderness, if that was what she 
 wanted. 
 
 " Which does not explain it at all, sir," after 
 which she is asking herself whether it is best 
 to pout. But two souls that know each other 
 well, can converse without speaking. She yielded 
 to him ; she grew sedate ; she needed not to 
 be told that that would please him best, just 
 now. 
 
 Then, too, it is time to be quiet ; we are 
 almost at the school-house door ; the mustering 
 farmers are leading their families along the snow-
 
 THE OLD SCHOOL-HOUSE 
 
 crust at our very side ; hear the stout boots 
 echo on this spotless pavement ; the little girls 
 wear boots just like the boys' boots, and we 
 should not wonder if their mothers wore almost 
 the same, this weather. It is time to be rever- 
 ent, for all their heads are turned towards the 
 sleighs, and we must act up to the dignity of 
 the pastor's party, lest we bring a scandal on 
 him whom we love. 
 
 " Every body has sharp eyes here, Andrew," 
 Clara sends back. " Talk about criticism of new 
 bonnets in city churches ! " That hushes him 
 and Bella. 
 
 The awkward squad of country youth about 
 the door, all eyes, all silence, all health and its 
 comliness, all eager service with the horses, but 
 not so much as venturing to offer a service to 
 the fine folk whom the horses have drawn. 
 
 They nudge each other with the elbow, their 
 hands being in their pockets, as Clara's ponies 
 come to the door-stone. The nudge means "that 
 is Miss Norcross ! That 's the favored son of 
 heaven who is privileged to court her. Them's 
 her own ponies." But not a vocal word. 
 
 " Please be very careful of them, they are so 
 warm/'' exclaims Clara to Deacon Lucas' six- 
 footed sixteen-year-old, who got at the bridles first.
 
 IS 2 DOLLARS AND DUTY 
 
 Ah, the effect ! The poor fellow had a speech 
 ready in reply which he could not utter till 
 he got to his father's barn ; then he spoke it 
 to the ponies. Paul had offered to go round 
 with the colts. Fortunate for him he did not 
 go, or young Luce and he would never have been 
 friends again. 
 
 Very few of the young men will get in to 
 hear the sermon ; they are all in Luce's barn, 
 looking over the turn-outs. They will enter the 
 school-house by and bye, with such a "stamp- 
 ing " of snow-covered feet, a very thunder in the 
 vestibule. And for many reasons, it is doubtful 
 if this convoy of " fine folk " will be any help 
 to the good pastor ; fine dress, fine manners, 
 perfume of college, Boston riches ; however rev- 
 erent his company may be, and however inno- 
 cent, the pastor would have been more welcome 
 alone. 
 
 The long-legged adults on the low benches of 
 the children ; the lamp and its big reflector on 
 the right ; on the left, at the pastor's back, the 
 square box-stove, roaring, red as a rose on top 
 and on either side, and bidding every one be- 
 ware. The dry heat, in a room without an air- 
 hole, save the door, an atmosphere unendurable, 
 except that, with all these farmers, cleanliness
 
 THE OLD SCHOOL-HOUSE. 153 
 
 is next to godliness : the blue flannel frock that 
 smells of the ox is left at home when they 
 assemble for worship ; the blackboard at the 
 pastor's back, whose chalkings you go figuring 
 through, while the pastor reads the hymn. 
 
 If this classic-faced clergyman had stood robed 
 in the grand cathedral train, and before princes 
 and potentates, he could not have been more rev- 
 erent and devout, in action or in thought, than 
 here, in this mere perch of a desk, pronouncing, 
 
 " All hail the power of Jesus' name, 
 Let angels prostrate fall." 
 
 What is it, Paul, what is it ? Why, man, all 
 the blood has left thy cheeks at sound of that 
 first stanza. It is the same old voice of your 
 father. Or do you detect some change, pathetic 
 prophecy of other change ? Or is it all the dear 
 old boyish memories come suddenly back again 
 that move thee so ? We are getting on fast 
 towards our destiny now. 
 
 There is a laughter more pathetic and more 
 tender than tears. The dear, droll, halting sing- 
 ing of that hymn ! Clara bites her lips and 
 hides her rosy cheek in the shadow of Paul's 
 broad shoulder. We all have rosy cheeks, by 
 the way, and stiff ones too, coming from that
 
 154 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 cold into this warmth. But we all try to sing, 
 as Clara is honestly trying, and Paul, with 
 head thrown frankly back, and making no effort 
 to smooth out his broad smile. But the young 
 man's eyes it may be the effect of the wind 
 and this sudden warmth. 
 
 Deacon Luce is chorister, self-appointed, sitting 
 with us face to all, eyes closed, big boot beating 
 -time, "hum in, yen " after which preliminary, 
 he strikes into the tune, and catches firmly hold 
 on the first word of the stanza. High above all 
 others the deacon's snarl and odd pronunciation, 
 yet profoundly reverent. 
 
 "Al m m, hail the peower uv, "and then 
 the swing of a cadence that next comes out strong 
 on " tf;/7*-gels," who are to " flraas-tratQ fall." 
 Then the swing to "forth the"; a leap to "ray- 
 al " ; a joyous jump which lands him safely on 
 "*#-a-dum," and then such a victorious soaring 
 away on the high notes with which " Old Coro- 
 nation" can alone gratify, in that last strain before 
 the repeat. The deacon prolongs it as if most 
 reluctant to retreat even after all his dauntless 
 followers have come to a breathless halt, mouths 
 open with wonder at the heights their leader 
 has attained. When his breath is finally gone, 
 bold captain that he is, for a moment he allows
 
 THE OLD SCHOOL-PIOUSE. 155 
 
 silence, then inflates again his capacious lungs, 
 a little trap-door in his gullet, gives a flap, 
 which we spell "me yeh ! " and, with a swing 
 of his spectacles, a lunge forward of his body, 
 a thundering beat of his right foot, he leads us 
 off again with " bring forth the," and so on of 
 the repeat. 
 
 Every body sings, of course, yet every body 
 is very careful to keep out of the way of the 
 deacon's stalwart scythe. He " leads the gang," 
 in the hay fields, and the throng are just as 
 deferential to him here. Unless we were to notice 
 the very venturesome, and only occasional, at- 
 tempt to soar independent and unled which 
 wails up from Aunt Abig'l Henlett, who sits in 
 yonder corner. It is not worth mentioning, 
 however. Brother Luce has his own way. Indeed, 
 it is the privilege of leading the singing that, 
 unconsciously perhaps, he prizes highest in these 
 services ; and for which he is willing to contri- 
 bute " the bait to the elder's hoss," and a 
 pumpkin or two in the sleigh to take home. 
 The pumpkins all count, however, be ye sure of 
 that, towards the pew rent which he owes the 
 treasurer of the village church, at Crosston. 
 
 And yet, there is so much of genuineness in 
 the singing, there is something so noble, always, in
 
 156 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 this majestic hymn itself, borne aloft on this tune 
 of the ages ; and we ca'n but feel assured of the 
 clean and wholesome yeoman characters, so thick- 
 ly crowded round us on this winter's night, 
 honest in their purpose, resorting thither to 
 learn of God. We could easily be melted into 
 deep religious emotion. 
 
 " My brethren ! " You are not much surprised 
 at the sudden interruption, though it chops off all 
 breaths that are just drawn to begin the last 
 stanza. The pious rapture has quickened the 
 speaker till he can keep his silence no 
 more. It is Enoch Downer, whom all " the 
 deestrick" knows but to love, who puts up his 
 stubby form before us and exclaims, 
 
 " My brethren, I can't keep still no longer. 
 This blessed hour ! The fires within me are 
 kindlin' ! I jest riz ter say yeh ! " And here 
 his stentorian utterance echoes like his sheep- 
 call upon these lofty hills at summer-sundown. 
 "To say yeh! that I am in the speret ter 
 night eh. And though I stand with one foot 
 as it were in the grave, eh and the other 
 all but, eh, I am bound to live on the Lord's 
 side, eh!" 
 
 Of course, Clara had heard this speech before, 
 even from a child, in the village prayer-meeting,
 
 THE OLD SCHOOL-HOUSE. 157 
 
 and had made the infantile inquiry as to " what 
 good Mr. Downer meant by saying that he 
 stood with one foot in the gravy and the other 
 in the butter and so forth?" We have all 
 heard it, except Andrew Norcross, Boston cousin. 
 And we always smile. Yet we know the' 
 speaker so well and esteem him as so true a 
 man, that we, too, catch an emotion from his 
 sing-song shout of joy. Away we go, again, 
 with that last inspiring stanza of the almost 
 nameless Perronet in a hymn which might well 
 have given its author a place in the love and 
 gratitude of the Christian world. 
 
 " Let us pray ! " 
 
 How solemn is the hush that greets thine 
 invitation, Elder Havens, man of God to every 
 one in this room. As poor, yet making many 
 rich. Poor ? Thou art rich, thou preacher, in 
 the rare, most rare indeed as men go in this 
 world, the measureless regard of all this room. 
 It is little matter what thou sayest ; for any 
 words endorsed by such a life as thine but 
 make us think on the God to whom thou art 
 now inviting us. 
 
 " Let us pray." And while we bate our breaths 
 yet hear each other breathe, hear sighs of 
 weary hearts and whispers of " Amen ! " it would
 
 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 seem that we are very far away from the silk 
 house in Boston. The wheels which have been 
 moving are almost still. We are very far away 
 from the new-building palace on Commonwealth 
 Avenue. The wheels are still. We have come 
 to the hour of our destiny at last. It is not 
 in the lecture-room of the very wise college. It 
 is not in the flashing show of the opera night. 
 It is not under the groined roof of the stately 
 church, where brilliant Mr. Crestlake rounds his 
 grave and polished speech. It is in this mean 
 and scanty hut, yet place of wonderful inspira- 
 tion to many great Americans, a New England 
 school-house. 
 
 At all events, Paul Havens and Clara Nor- 
 cross, be it where it may, no doubt the mys- 
 terious wheels are still. We have come to 
 decisions now. If we were to look up we could 
 not, as our eyes are now, manage to read the 
 swimming figures on the dial. But we dare not 
 look up. We tremble and shake with the inward 
 emotion. Our father's voice in prayer, brings 
 back that other Voice. To disobey is to die !
 
 THE DECISION. 159 
 
 IX. 
 
 THE DECISION. 
 
 FT would be profane to attempt a description 
 - of that prayer. Indeed, it was not so much 
 what was said. Nor can any analyst put cause 
 for effect in these movements of mind. We 
 show you a mystery, namely, how the God-called 
 preacher, resisting, self-willed, like iron against 
 his call, yet suddenly at last melts falls! It 
 is as the iceberg, long proud-towered and long, 
 long wooed by the gentle sunbeam, cracks, 
 bows! It is just as your ship is passing; but 
 it was not your glance that caused it. It was 
 the awful product of many days of unconscious 
 sun's rays. 
 
 Neither Paul nor Clara lifted their faces till 
 some moments after the simple sermon had be- 
 gun. When they did, Clara had her handkerchief 
 to her eyes, while her lover held his head erect 
 enough, though his eyes were closed, and through 
 the lids the truant tears were now and then un- 
 mistakably stealing. They sat with hands clasped 
 under the concealment of her cloak. She had
 
 160 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 reached for his, and be sure he had gladly wel- 
 comed her sympathy. Was not that a part of the 
 problem, whether now their hands were being 
 joined for the last time? 
 
 " I am not old," said the preacher, " but yet, 
 I have a strong conviction that my preaching 
 days are nearly done." 
 
 Paul was profoundly moved. He knew the 
 preacher, and that there was no stage-trick, called 
 cant to adapt it to the pulpit, in this weary 
 plaint. 
 
 " I bethink me, often, of the way I have trav- 
 eled. With all its sorrows and I have joyed to 
 add your sorrows to my own, till I can scarce 
 pass a farm-house which is not replete with such 
 memories yet it has been a way of inexpressi- 
 ble delight!" 
 
 "God bless him!" 
 
 "Amen!" 
 
 "Yes, yes!" 
 
 "And soon I must leave this work to whom? 
 I hear of your sons going to the "city, brethren. 
 It is out of your homes that the exhausted cities, 
 down country, recruit their banks and stores. 
 Your boys are at Dartmouth, and Amherst, and 
 Wesleyan. Oh, we raise bright boys up here. 
 But not a candidate for the ministry has sprung
 
 THE DECISION. l6l 
 
 up from these hills in eight years ! And the cry 
 is for ministers. Who will go ? " 
 
 It was at the very close of his discourse. He 
 had not dwelt upon the appeal in the body of 
 his sermon. It was but a tender, and Paul knew, 
 a most apt, appeal at the end. It followed appro- 
 priately his line of thought, and it was a proper 
 word to speak, these vacation days, in the hear- 
 ing of other ears beside his own. 
 
 And yet Paul knew that the words were in- 
 tended for himself. A preacher may not preach 
 at an individual. But, if he is conscious of a 
 sacred friendship between himself and a hearer, 
 he may preach a truth to his friend, making him 
 the only and the honored auditor among a thou- 
 sand. A clergyman's children often know that 
 "father meant us." They are often melted to 
 tears by such appeals ; for it seems as if, weary 
 and diffident of direct approach so often vainly 
 iterated in the secrecy of home, the good man 
 had no other recourse left but to preach to them 
 as to strangers. Pitiful plight of their rebellion ! 
 
 Oh, what tales the pastor's pew could tell, 
 when it has listened and known that the preacher 
 was racked with pain ; when it has listened and 
 known all the hints of his and their bereave- 
 ment ; when it has listened in the place of his
 
 l62 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 critics and his enemies, his false brethren, and his 
 secret detractors. When it has listened, the pas- 
 tor's rentless pew though, to be sure, it might 
 not command much rent, located where it is, 
 listened to any reference to the time when the 
 preacher's voice would exhort no more. There are 
 pews and pews, but no pew could speak like the 
 pastor's pew. 
 
 As Mr. Havens sank into his seat, with that 
 last question yet unanswered, "Who will go?" 
 Paul turned to Clara with this reply : 
 
 "/ will ! Let me pass, please." 
 
 " Is he ill ? Do go ! " she responded ; and 
 moving out from the cramped desk she added, 
 "May I not go with you, Paul?" 
 
 He turned, involuntarily, and gave her one look, 
 as if to read, if she meant it, a better meaning, 
 even, than a proffer to help the fainting speaker, 
 half overcome in this confined atmosphere. The 
 next moment he was bending eagerly over his 
 father's chair. 
 
 "Father!" then grasping both of his hands, 
 since the blue lips moved not. " My father ! you 
 are not ill." Instead of which reassurance most 
 fools would have blurted out, "How pale, ghastly 
 you look!" But wise, strong Paul said, "Dear 
 father ! Ah, you are looking at me. You appear
 
 THE DECISION. 163 
 
 and feel stronger now, dear sir! It is the heat 
 and the unusual unction with which you spoke." 
 
 "My children " the nerveless clergyman 
 gasped. 
 
 " Are all about you, papa, dear ! " cried Nora, 
 falling on her knees at his side, and beginning 
 to loosen his neck-wear. 
 
 " Yes, papa. Oh, God help us ! " exclaimed 
 Bella, straightening up from kissing and suffo- 
 cating him. " See ! he can not speak ! My God, 
 he will die here! and oh, poor mamma!" 
 
 " Hush, child ! " said Paul. " No, no, do not 
 come about us so ! " This to the little room-full 
 who had sprung forward at Bella's shriek. 
 
 " Bella, Bella, 't is only a faint," said Clara, who 
 instantly found comfort for herself in comforting 
 this distracted daughter. What a difference in 
 chicks of the same brood ! Nora, the missionary 
 of to-morrow, calm, laborious at her father's tem- 
 ples, yet wise enough to know all the time that 
 it might be the dreaded paralysis, a family in- 
 heritance. Bella herself like one dead in Clara 
 Norcross' arms. 
 
 "Now room! Do you hear men and 
 women ? Let us pass, please ! " . Paul Ha- 
 vens had his father's form in his own unaided 
 arms, and was bearing him, with strides that
 
 1 64 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 shook the floor, to the door. Alone he would 
 have done it, too, but that Andrew Norcross 
 would not suffer him, and lent a hand. 
 
 " Here, father, we are, in the fresh air. You 
 are better, now ! So, so, my coat for a pillow. 
 There ; you will ride home as well as you came, 
 dear sir. You can move your hand ! " 
 
 No response. 
 
 " Can you not move your foot ? " 
 
 No response. 
 
 " Brandy ! Yes, yes, you must take it. There 
 can be no harm in brandy now. God created it 
 for such an hour. Drink, father. It has come 
 a quarter of a mile in five minutes, by this young 
 fellow's legs. Now, speak, father. You can move 
 your tongue." 
 
 No response. 
 
 "At least he swallows," whispers Nora, who has 
 sunk to the snow-covered floor, and got the fond 
 head in her lap, and offered a glass of water. 
 
 " If you could but get him to take the brandy," 
 says Andrew, also on his knees by the prostrate 
 form. 
 
 " He would die first, I almost think," whispered 
 Bella, who, on her knees, also, is miserably help- 
 less, with head leaned hard and scared face hid on 
 Clara's shoulder. Indeed, it is a kneeling group.
 
 THE DECISION. 1 6- 
 
 "No. Do not trouble him with the liquor. 
 We know how he hates it. Father, your wish ! " 
 exclaims Paul, bending down close. "Oh, speak 
 again, my father ! " 
 
 What a waiting it is, the waiting to know ! 
 whether about the bed of luxury in chambers 
 of elegance and the watch and pulse in the 
 hands of skill, or here under the blink of 
 the stars that peep in through this open 
 door, and with these hapless young people, 
 unskilled except in love and prayer. We wait 
 an age, so it seems. In fact, it is the barest 
 interval. 
 
 But in that interval the student has reviewed 
 the lessons of a life-time. He presses his clenched 
 hands hard between his knees. The drops of 
 agony start out upon his brow, and the winter's 
 breath can not keep them back. In the interval 
 of waiting, he kisses his father like a boy. In 
 that interval, with all the seeming of orphanage, 
 his heart goes out to Clara kneeling face to 
 face. She is so beautiful in her mingled love 
 and pity. She is the next sacred idol of his 
 heart, and shall be first now, perhaps, in a few 
 moments. She surely will not let him go the 
 ways of life alone. He reaches over and takes 
 her hand, saying,
 
 1 66 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 "Clara, would God he had lived to hear me 
 say it!" 
 
 " Say it now, Paul. Perhaps his spirit will 
 will turn back to hear it!" 
 
 Quick, then. "FatJier! Father! Oh, tongue of 
 a good man. Mine can never plead as thou hast. 
 But, so God help me, I will take tip the story 
 that these lips have this night ceased to tell!" 
 
 " Paul, see ! " quietly, promptly speaks Nora. 
 "He is far from dead. He heard that!" 
 
 " Again, Paul ! It is good medicine." The 
 words spring from Clara's lips as if one word. 
 
 " Father ! Great God, witness ! Father, live to 
 hear me preach. If that is what God means." 
 
 How strange do words sometimes sound, not 
 often, but once or twice in a life-time, when 
 they are so richly freighted and so unearthly in 
 their cadence, that it seems as if you heard 
 the very soul of a human creature uttering 
 speech. 
 
 " I will, my son. Strength returns. Home ! " 
 
 Yes, home. Lift him. Embrace ye Paul. He 
 has almost raised our dead ! Oh, gently, yet 
 swiftly, make pillows and a couch. Let our 
 tears fall like rain in the joyous revulsion of 
 emotion. Let our prayers be thanks, and our 
 words all prayers that we get safely back to
 
 THE DECISION. 1 67 
 
 the Crosston parsonage. Let us but wring each 
 others' hands now and ask for no explanations. 
 There will be many things to tell and wonder 
 over, how Paul brought the dead to life with a 
 word ; but it 'is little matter now what the word 
 was, or how he and this dear, helpful Clara 
 knew what word to speak. We shall do best at 
 home with a physician, and mamma at hand. 
 If it is but " the first stroke, at worst " ; and 
 there must be two more, and perhaps he will 
 never have them. 
 
 We get away from the kind farmer group. 
 We see him revive by the minute now. This 
 air, with the crown of the Boreal Lights that 
 begin to flash and flash all across the heavens, 
 these are batteries of God-sent power. How the 
 red banners flaunt clear up to the zenith as 
 we fly ! Fingers of scarlet and hands of gold ! 
 We fairly feel the vital force that is flung 
 down upon us from those mystic finger tips, 
 as we speed away. The sick man lifts his arm 
 to point to the glorious sky. The two women, 
 Clara and Nora, who make his pillow, bend to 
 hear. 
 
 "The Northern Lights always give me 
 life!" 
 
 "He has got his speech all back, Paul!" They
 
 1 68 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 shout it to Paul, who guides the ponies in their 
 wild descent of the hills. 
 
 "Did you notice," the clever little physician, 
 Clara, resumed to Nora, "how utterly overcome 
 and useless to us young folks Mamma Norcross 
 was?" 
 
 " Yes, to be sure, I had n't thought of her. 
 But now I remember her sobbing in the seat all 
 by herself, and motioning you to leave her with 
 Mr. Crane." 
 
 " Sister Norcross is a very sensitive na- 
 ture," the clergyman murmured faintly. "Much 
 dependent on her strong husband." 
 
 "That's true, you poor dear," exclaimed the 
 delighted Clara, giving him a motherly little clutch 
 and kiss, after the manner of woman's sover- 
 eignty over all manly age or dignity, when man 
 is ill. But in the next instant came a troubled 
 thought that made her silent. The mention of 
 her father's strength ! She stopped short in her 
 remedial treatment of this man, thinking anx- 
 iously of that man. 
 
 "What amazement, your mother and Mr. 
 Crane both springing to feet my first reviving 
 sight by the big school-house lamp, when Paul 
 said what he did ! " Then the invalid added, with 
 ineffable repose, " Thank my God ! "
 
 THE DECISION. 169 
 
 It was Clara Norcross' first return to self- 
 consciousness. She had forgotten all about her 
 father, her own future, and the portentous 
 changes wrought prophetically upon it within 
 the last short hour. But she was awake to the 
 morrow now. She suddenly found herself almost 
 wishing that the flight of the steeds might be 
 checked; she drew back in her seat as if to 
 hinder them. She made some involuntary motion 
 that must have been discoverable to the sick 
 man, for he said, 
 
 "You and Paul," then pausing, then repeating, 
 "you and Paul will never regret it, my son, 
 my daughter." 
 
 "Brother told us," quickly put in Nora, with 
 the best intentions in the world of course, but 
 blundering unaccountably, for a woman, you 
 would say, except that she would have looked 
 upon any thing like jealousy in Clara as im- 
 possible, "what a soul-thrust that's Paul's 
 expression your Cousin Fidelia gave him. He'll 
 never forget " 
 
 "Puss Norcross!" exclaimed Clara. Her voice 
 was suddenly grown cold as this winter air. 
 "And what, pray tell, did she say to him which 
 was so important ? " 
 
 But in the next few moments she would have
 
 17 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 given any thing to have that pert, little speech 
 safely back in her own mouth, for she wr.s 
 greeted with one of those blank silences which 
 we use to express both surprise and pain ; and 
 she would not, for worlds, distress this precious 
 invalid, as she feared that she had. 
 
 Clara welcomed the silence, on second thought. 
 It was easier than conversation in the frosty 
 air, and bounding and thumping down the high- 
 land roadway at the top of their speed. Clara 
 Norcross had one peculiarity that might be called 
 exceptional in the only child of opulent indul- 
 gence : She kept the troubles of life to herself. 
 It is not a bad peculiarity ; it makes your 
 presence a perpetual cheer. If she had ever 
 felt a jealous pang, she would not, on reflection, 
 have revealed it ; therefore, Paul had never sus- 
 pected it. She was glad to hope that he had 
 not overheard her unguarded remark. 
 
 There is not a little pride, as well as strength 
 of character, in this reticence of sorrows. But 
 if one be delicately sensitive as well, it is ter- 
 ribly expensive, one consumes in secret. No 
 one knew the amount of hard thinking that the 
 girl had done within the last year over this 
 question of Paul's possible life-work. It all 
 sprung up anew now, like a spectre, to add to
 
 THE DECISION. I /I 
 
 the already intense excitement of her tender 
 sensibilities this night. It sprung up, like any 
 resurrected trouble, with increased power to 
 terrorize at the mention of her father's and 
 Puss Norcross' name. 
 
 " I will follow him, my Paul," she found her- 
 self iterating with tongue and lips, and no sound, 
 " no matter what papa may say ! What must a 
 woman do, but follow her love, when it is inno- 
 cent ? I am not changeable ; I simply follow my 
 hero. Where the men go, the loyal women 
 go. But what a scene we shall have with papa! 
 Europe ? The elegant, new Boston home ? Puss 
 Norcross shall not win him ! Has she been of 
 nobler service to him than I ? Am I not also 
 a Christian girl ? " 
 
 She felt the kindling of this flaming night as 
 it fluttered its gorgeous hues overhead. There 
 is a peculiarity about these electrical displays in 
 the extreme north which is little known to the 
 southerner. They set you on fire. They make the 
 brain a lesser altar, on which to feed unusual 
 fires. Thoughts and emotions revel in ill-control. 
 Clara was almost hysterical. 
 
 "See!" suddenly exclaimed the invalid, who, 
 half reclining, could gaze up and almost lose 
 himself in the heavenly vision.
 
 I7 2 DOLLARS AA?D DUTY. 
 
 " Good ! Good ! He points with his right 
 arm, Paul ! " shouted the happy Nora. 
 
 " Thank God ! " said Paul, venturing to turn 
 for a moment. 
 
 " See ! " the father continued. " It makes the 
 very shape of the cross above us ! It is your 
 harbinger, my boy. He is giving me back my 
 life again. He answers prayer. Oh, you know 
 that I am no habitual shouter ; but it seems 
 to me I must shout now. God is so good ! 
 Glory to his name ! If men only knew how 
 blissful it is to serve him. Glory ! Paul ? " And 
 the speaker sprung into a sitting posture, 
 his striking features radiant and half up-turned, 
 his hand up-flung in favorite gesture. 
 
 Paul turned to look with silent wonder. The 
 two beautiful faces at the preacher's side turned 
 to look with silent wonder. 
 
 " Paul," he shouted with a mighty effort, " we 
 will stand together and point to that cross, you 
 and I, father and son! Hallelujah! The Lord 
 God omnipotent reigneth ! " 
 
 And, as if to make reply, just then, over the 
 worshipful, upturned faces of the company, over 
 the sleeping forelands couchant on either hand 
 over the glassy river now left by the moon to 
 this holier and more awful glow, the great
 
 THE DECISION. 1/3 
 
 crown from the far north moved ! It marched 
 like an army with banners, slowly, steadily up, 
 up, up the arc of the sky. It suddenly broke. 
 It wheeled and countermarched its glittering 
 hosts in confusing evolution, on which their 
 earthly eyes now gazed almost appalled. Then 
 the light halted. When all was still, lo there ! 
 It was, in fact, a form of the cross ! More dis- 
 tinct than the watching clergyman had seen 
 before, though watching long its approximations 
 to this shape, a cross of fire. 
 
 The cross was still above them for many 
 seconds. They forgot all in contemplation. 
 Thank heaven, it did not endure long, for it was 
 not in flesh and blood to endure the sight and 
 live. While they gazed, with a great flash it was 
 gone. Northerners are familiar with the illusion, 
 if it is illusion, of an audible sound accom- 
 panying these displays at times. 
 
 "I surely heard a voice!" whispered the awe- 
 struck clergyman, sinking back exhausted. 
 
 "A voice from heaven," echoed Paul. 
 
 " It sounded like a whisper," said Nora, trem- 
 bling and affrighted. 
 
 "It surely did. Oh! Oh!" And with this 
 Clara could endure no more. She got to a 
 woman's relief at once. She bowed her head on
 
 1/4 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 the great furred shoulder of the pastor and 
 sobbed uncontrollably. 
 
 A strange happiness this. It is not often given 
 a place in popular descriptions. It can not, 
 doubtless, be described. The pure religious ec- 
 stasy of this reclining man, lying as in the restful 
 bosom of God. He had this witness, that he 
 pleased God, no doubt. He had an unearthly joy 
 in the consecration of his son. It might be worth 
 while for fathers to ask if ever, when a son of 
 theirs first took his place in the money-making 
 firm, and it was written on the old sign, " Arid 
 Son," over the door, such joy came to them ; or 
 when a son won his first election, or a great pro- 
 motion with added stars and bangles in Vanity 
 Fair. Sylvester Havens scarcely spoke again till 
 they reached the parsonage door. 
 
 An unearthly happiness, this of Paul Havens. 
 Doubtless, hard to describe, also. You may say, 
 " Sweet to obey conscience." Then multiply that 
 by what ? Some celestial multiple. But you have 
 no figures, nor language, with which to write out 
 the product. Self utterly forgotten now, because 
 self was dead and hid. A new-born self in its place. 
 
 It was peace and rest in decision, after unrest- 
 ful years, for he had been fighting this Voice 
 since twelve years of age.
 
 THE DECISION. 
 
 It was his father recovered ; not dead, but 
 alive ! 
 
 It was Clara Norcross prompting him ; and 
 therefore assenting to his destiny. 
 
 But it was more than all these, which of them- 
 selves would fill the cup of most men, a very 
 full cup of this life's joys. It was the Divine 
 favor. The keen blast that whistled over the 
 field and the river whispered softly to him of the 
 Divine favor. The bleak aspect of nature, lifeless 
 and dread, seemed actually to put on a change 
 and to smile like a summer's evening with the 
 Divine favor. He had a sense of safety, in this 
 vast universe ; of the inalienable kindness of all 
 things towards himself, so that the very elements 
 seemed to caress him, and he could not have 
 perished had he made a bed of the drifts that 
 blushed beside the path in the hues of this 
 strange sky. He was immortal already ; he could 
 not die till his work was done. He exulted in 
 this immunity from death, from injury, from de- 
 feat. No pain, no privation, but assumed the ap- 
 pearance of privilege, Divine favors all. He could 
 not, though he tried to imagine one, foresee a 
 place of labor so somber, so black, so terrible, 
 that it could quench his mysterious eagerness to 
 dare and do for men therein. His felicity was
 
 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 almost overpowering. He began to fear. He 
 found himself asking, " O God, temper the joy ! 
 Let me have strength to endure this Divine 
 favor." It is rare, yet it is not unknown, this 
 cry for strength to receive all the sudden happi- 
 ness that is sent. You have been carried to the 
 pitch of rapture by music, and have felt, suddenly 
 and to your surprise, that you could endure no 
 more ; hence you began to study the dress of 
 your neighbor, or any other triviality was seized 
 on, to quench the brain-fire. So Paul Havens, 
 for very relief, leaned forward to watch the nigh 
 horse as she reached out over the ice. But it 
 was for a moment only ; the mind returned to 
 drink again of the Divine favor. 
 
 You have been the subject of a dear friend's 
 " Bless you, I want to make you happy ! " But 
 it passes telling, the ecstasy of it, when you 
 hear the Divine " Bless you ! I am now making 
 you happy ! " Paul remembers how it is written, 
 " If these should hold their peace, the very stones 
 would cry out." He seems to see that ancient 
 Speaker of Jerusalem's street ; and suddenly, 
 chanting in low, sonorous tones of reverence, to 
 the notes of an old tune, he gives his heart 
 utterance, 
 
 " Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of hosts ; heaven
 
 THE DECISION. 1 77 
 
 and earth are full of thy glory : glory be to thee, 
 O Lord most high." 
 
 Louder, yet more reverent and solemn, the 
 singer begins to repeat, when the two women's 
 voices join his without the asking, " Holy, holy, 
 holy ! " 
 
 Once, when they paused at the end of the re- 
 frain, from the enameled rocks of a foreland by 
 the river's narrow pass, through which they were 
 slowly winding, came back the echo, soft as angel 
 minstrelsy, as if, indeed, the trembling air was 
 full of benediction, " Lord, most high-high-high ! " 
 
 In the hush of this great happiness they go 
 on, till they reach the village-street deserted, till 
 they lift their load to the parsonage-path, and it 
 is a load no longer. 
 
 " Children," said the clergyman, using his own 
 feet, " we will have no need to tell mother of 
 my slight indisposition till the morning, when I 
 can both tell her and reassure her." 
 
 When, a few moments later at her father's 
 door, Paul stood folding Clara fondly for a lover's 
 brief good-night, the other sleigh load not yet 
 having come in sight of the porch that sheltered 
 them, .he whispered, 
 
 " We have never seen a brighter hour, my 
 precious girl ! "
 
 178 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 She lifted her head from his shoulder and 
 looked up into his eyes a moment, not answer- 
 ing. Then she faltered out, "If it would only 
 last, Paul." 
 
 "Last? This joy? The favor of God lasts 
 forever, if we obey. What do you mean ? " 
 
 Turning partly round, she looked through the 
 window of her father's " den," from whence the 
 lamp-light streamed across the portico. Having 
 made sure, she drew Paul aside and pointing in 
 through the gap in the heavy velvet curtains, 
 said, " Come and see." 
 
 The manufacturer sat smoking and toiling, so 
 abstracted that he had not heard their footsteps 
 upon the creaking marble. 
 
 " Do you know what he is doing ? " she asked. 
 
 " Trying to add millions unto a million, I sup- 
 pose." The descent seemed like a fall from 
 heaven. 
 
 " For whom, Paul ? " 
 
 " Shall I answer that he thinks it is for you 
 and me ? " 
 
 " And then, add to that, that he will call us 
 traitors for this night's resolves," she continued, 
 with a tone of downright distress. 
 
 " I shall come straight to see him in the morn- 
 ing. That will certainly be the honest way.
 
 THE DECISION. 179 
 
 Here conies your mother ; good-night," and Paul 
 bounded along the well-worn path that led from 
 the rich man's home to the rich man's parsonage, 
 for both buildings belonged to Lemuel Norcross. 
 The light from the toiler's lamp fell on the path, 
 a light to Paul's feet, indeed. In its ray the 
 young man halted to read the hour. It was mid- 
 night ; as he looked, the light went out. The 
 toiler's day's work was done. 
 
 Just here, through the evergreens, the path 
 sharply turning, the rays from his father's bed- 
 chamber met him ; as he looked, that light also 
 went out. Standing a moment under the stars, 
 Paul spoke it to the trees on the lawn, 
 
 " Our fathers have each finished another day's 
 work, and God Almighty can now write them in 
 the ledger."
 
 1 80 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 ' X. 
 
 CARRYING IT OUT. 
 
 'T^HE morning is the time for an act of voli- 
 -'- tion ; especially if you have slept well. You 
 awake already for sharp and decisive action. 
 The problem of the night before greets you at 
 the bedside, and offers to terrorize you as it 
 did the night before ; but you are not the same 
 person who went, weary and affrighted, to that 
 bed. You are a new creature. You are impa- 
 tient with this tyrant, your problem. You spring 
 up and throttle him. You adjust your dress, 
 and every button settles something. You open 
 your chamber door, boldly, ready to meet forty 
 troubles. Your mind is thronged with resources, 
 and your hands tingle to begin. What an hour 
 for courage is the morning! Volitions of the 
 morning will accomplish something ere the sun 
 goes down. Volitions of the evening often fade 
 like the mists of the night. 
 
 If Paul Havens was decided at night, he was 
 invincibly decided in the morning. He resolved 
 to seek his interview at once with Mr. Nor-
 
 CARRYING IT OUT. l8l 
 
 cross ; and not at his residence, but at the 
 factory office. After breakfasting with his mother 
 and sisters, and ascertaining that his father had 
 passed a comfortable night and was still sleeping, 
 he excused himself and went on. foot to the 
 mills. 
 
 The great gates of the yard were thrown 
 obsequiously open to his ring, by the lame, little 
 man in the lodge. The gate-keeper was, by the 
 way, a pensioner, who had lost his right foot 
 in a machine which he once served skilfully for 
 the concern. Mr. Norcross would not let so 
 good a man starve ; by no means. He had in- 
 vented the machine which hurt him, and it was 
 invaluable. Pierre Bloc was a French Yankee. 
 His machine was the sword that fought Lyons, 
 and the village knew it. Cruel machine, that 
 had snapped off its maker's foot ; kind machine, 
 that had made it possible for Lemuel Norcross 
 to rival Lyons, and so saved all this pile of 
 brick from bankruptcy. Pierre was a child of 
 the Huguenots. His piety was as true as his 
 good face asserted ; hence, the thing to do was, 
 to pension him, setting him to keep this lodge, 
 and making him a deacon in the village church. 
 
 " Good morning, Mr. Paul," said Pierre, touch- 
 ing his skull cap. "The Lord be with thee, son
 
 1 82 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 of the prophet ! The owner is before thee, this 
 early hour, sir; just gone into his office." 
 
 "Pierre," responded Paul, "give 'me your hand. 
 It will do me good to take the hand of a brave 
 man, just now. Your fathers died for their faith, 
 sir." 
 
 But beyond the shaking of the honest hand, 
 the young man paused to offer no expla- 
 nations to the somewhat questioning face of the 
 good deacon. Down the yard the operatives ev- 
 erywhere lifted their caps to Paul. The news 
 was already old that he was to be master here, 
 and the news was popular at every mention of 
 its smallest and latest item. A knot of fellows, 
 heaving at a snow-clogged freight-car, were will- 
 ing to forego their hold for a moment to look 
 on this spruce, manly form, and give good morn- 
 ing. Another knot of teamsters would insist in 
 moving their great grays, despite his protest, to 
 give the young partner the path which the hoofs 
 had occupied. Paul might have noticed, had he 
 not been so pre-occupied, the vassalage that was 
 offered by the eyes of boys and girls, and strings 
 of youthful operatives who dragged their white- 
 faced procession in and out of doors upon their 
 rounds of treadmill toil. His romance was a 
 twice-told tale in every humble village kitchen,
 
 CARRYING IT OUT. 183 
 
 where these people talked and philosophized about 
 life, the long winter evenings through. "Paul and 
 Clara," it was behind their backs. Every village 
 youth was Paul ; every village maid was Clara, 
 all in dreams. 
 
 Paul Havens had attained the lawful stature of 
 a man. Not one of these operatives had ; the 
 mill atmosphere had stunted all their growths. 
 He had an elastic step and struck his heel down 
 firmly. Not so these, who always shuffled wher- 
 ever they walked, as if treading along greasy 
 floors ; and their tread was soft, like a cat's 
 footfall. Paul had fine co'or ; all these had pallor, 
 with pinheads of black pricked into the wax. 
 Paul had been schoolmate to many, till to col- 
 lege he, to moiling they. He frankly and kindly 
 met their gaze, and spoke old names for short, 
 to set them at their ease. Many looked down 
 and addressed him as " Mister," then studied his 
 back and his fine clothes as he passed on. 
 Such as were Catholics admired him, or, at the 
 worst, envied him. Such as were members of his 
 father's congregation, fellows of the old Sunday- 
 school benches, would have been jealous of the 
 promotion of the preacher's boy, but for pleasant 
 memories of his unselfish boyhood. 
 
 As he pushed on down the vast inclosure,
 
 1 84 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 the rows of long, low buildings seemed to draw 
 themselves up like troops at dress-parade, await- 
 ing his command. Every now and then he 
 stopped to think of it : the forces in waiting 
 for him ; the snow-covered roofs, like an encamp- 
 ment in winter quarters, ready to conquer the 
 world the proud commercial world for him 
 and Andrew Norcross, within the next five and 
 twenty years. 
 
 Through an open door the hum of industry ; 
 the sound that is like no other sound on earth: 
 a hiss combined with a chatter of ten thousand 
 speakers, not one of which has a soul ; a groan, 
 mingled with the lighter sort of laughter, that 
 you may interpret as derision or flattery ; a sound 
 that says to the office, in hard times, " We are 
 worms, eating your leaves of gold. Hear us 
 consuming you ! " But which says in good times, 
 "We are increasing, amassing, storing. Honey 
 bees are we. Buzz, buzz ! " To Paul Havens, 
 the hum of industry was disposed to sing the 
 most fulsome praises. 
 
 The blue wreaths of smoke from spire-like 
 chimney-stacks declined to aspire heavenward 
 this morning, but, taking advantage of a low 
 barometrical condition, there was a March 
 "sugar-snow" in the cloudy southern sky evi-
 
 CARRYING IT OUT 185 
 
 dently, the smoke came down and clothed him, 
 did obeisance to him as the coming man, and 
 it choked him. 
 
 " Ahem ! " clearing his throat. " It is a differ- 
 ent sky, a different atmosphere from last night," 
 pushing on. 
 
 The office is to the mass of the mill, what 
 the eye is to the whole head ; what the head is 
 to the aggregate bones, sinews, and flesh of the 
 physical man. Not a large building ; its doors 
 fly open to him ; the envious rows of clerks 
 look up and, biting their pens, sing, 
 
 " Good morning," a long row of them, like a 
 choir in church. It is in voices bass, contralto, 
 soprano, tenor, though the deep, healthy basses 
 are too few. 
 
 Not so confident a step now ; yet a nearly 
 calm exterior, as he gives and takes the amiable 
 salutations. Knees quite shaky, now, as he ap- 
 proaches that inner door. He throws back his 
 coat, and fills his lungs so deeply that, noticing 
 also the troubled look he wears, an old clerk', just 
 at the door, remarked a moment later, 
 
 " A sigh ! True as heaven it was a sigh ! " 
 Then the old man chuckled ; his thin lips mum- 
 bled, " He 's got it, got it ! the Norcross heart- 
 ache ; we all get it." The misanthrope ! But
 
 1 86 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 then he had been here for years, very faithful ; 
 and had been promoted and advanced, till he 
 was watch -dog on the public side of the inner 
 office-doors. Some men can never endure promotion. 
 
 " Ah, my boy, expected you ; how 's father ? 
 Confound Andrew ! Why is n't the fellow here ! 
 Like his father, a little slow. Seat?" All of 
 which the manufacturer had spoken like light- 
 ning, and before the clangor of the glass doors 
 had ceased to echo. He was seated, and writing 
 with one hand ; he extended the other, the left, 
 in a backward movement, yet cordial enough, no 
 doubt ; he did not look up at Paul, but straight 
 across the table, when it was necessary to look 
 up at all, and into the face of a stenographer, 
 who also was at his work. 
 
 " What a killing pace you keep up, sir," said 
 Paul, not knowing which question to answer, and 
 deciding that none of them demanded a reply. 
 He shrank into the proffered seat with a sense of 
 relief. 
 
 "Yes. I can lead you boys a dance for the 
 next twenty years. I guess you'll find tell him 
 not in the present state of the market in my 
 judgment thirty days will tell " 
 
 The first sentence flung to Paul, the second 
 to the stenographer, the third, with a splash of
 
 CARRYING IT OUT. l8/ 
 
 ink, to his own sheet of paper. " How many 
 hours a day can you study, my boy ? " 
 
 "I have thought I could endure sixteen, sir. 
 But some say that 's wicked," Paul replied. 
 
 " Wicked ? " Scribble, scribble ; the pen seemed 
 to be laughing aloud. " I can beat you. I can 
 put in twenty, week in and week out. We shall 
 learn some things, sir. Yes. Here to learn ; 
 business growing like a mushroom tell him I'll 
 see him in Botany Bay, first. Write just that " 
 with a toss of a letter back to the writer. 
 Scribble, dash. " Yes, wish you were here, now, 
 Paul. Graduation day mere form. Cut it ; come 
 now. No ; s'pose 't would grieve your father and 
 the women folks." 
 
 After a while, Paul saw that it would be nec- 
 essary to break in by main force with his er- 
 rand. He could not wait, moreover, for courage 
 was ebbing. He had watched for a chance of 
 courteous interruption, and the half-hour had 
 soon ripened into an hour of the above sort of 
 an interview. Not one man in a thousand would 
 have had as much of an interview as had been 
 granted Paul. Mr. Norcross undoubtedly consid- 
 ered himself very gracious ; he was visiting, 
 actually visiting with his future son-in-law, and 
 in business hours !
 
 1 88 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 Paul said, " Mr. Norcross, a serious errand 
 brought me down this morning. Can not we 
 be alone ? " 
 
 There was something in Paul's voice, when 
 deeply in earnest, that compelled attention. Yet 
 it was very respectful withal. The manufacturer 
 straightened back ; looked over at the little 
 writer, as much as to say, " He is furniture," 
 and then said, decidedly, impatiently too, though 
 he probably did not intend it so, for he put on 
 a smile : 
 
 " Well, Paul, what is it ? say on ! " 
 
 It was like the click of machinery. The 
 man's mind worked like that. He was all con- 
 centration on Paul in a moment. A great 
 business is a great mental disciplinarian ; superior 
 to the modern college, no doubt. 
 
 " You welcome words to the point," Paul said. 
 
 "That's me, my dear feller." 
 
 When intensely moved, Mr. Norcross always 
 lapsed into the false syntax of his unschooled 
 boyhood. Paul knew this, and measured the 
 man's intensity thereby at once. It was his 
 usual excitement, when at work. 
 
 "You see many things at a glance," Paul re- 
 sumed. "Expressions of gratitude to, and friend- 
 ship for, you and yours, I sincerely trust, are
 
 CARRYING IT OUT. 189 
 
 not needed. You know how truly attached I 
 am." 
 
 " I see. A word's n'ff on that score. The 
 point." 
 
 " I solemnly assure you, my dear sir, that I 
 feel myself called of God to the Christian min- 
 istry. You would say I must not dare disobey." 
 There it was out ! and not at all as he had 
 planned to say it. 
 
 Silence is needed. Let the patient writer put 
 it down. Let the great clock on the wall tick 
 it down ; yes, and tick it out into the lips of 
 the hundred clocks it regulates in a hundred 
 rooms of working men and women, and tick it 
 up into the great dial that is always staring 
 from the tower ; tick it into the warp and 
 woof of time, and into the fabric of this impe- 
 rious Norcross life, a rotten thread, a hope- 
 less disappointment, and the first of any conse- 
 quence, but which makes it possible to rend the 
 whole in twain. Meanwhile the owner of all 
 this has settled himself, imperceptibly more com- 
 pact, into his chair, and trained his keen eyes 
 on the destroyer of his hopes. 
 
 "That is, you prefer beggary to half of this 
 wealth, eh ? " 
 
 " I beg of you," with great emphasis on beg,
 
 19 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 11 not to misunderstand me, sir," said Paul, at first 
 meeting glance with glance, but yielding promptly 
 and casting his eyes to the floor. " It is heaven's 
 disposal of me, I believe." 
 
 "Ye-as." It hardly escaped the lips compressed 
 by the chin forced down on the breast. The 
 posture gave the changeless eyes a dreadful 
 gleam, peering from beneath the beetling brows. 
 "Heaven, eh ? I have met this idea of heaven 
 ever since I was a boy. It decreed even me a 
 beggar by birth so I was taught; but I didn't 
 remain so. Heaven has often crossed my track, 
 but I have had my way in the end. Heaven 
 denied me a son. I took you. But no; heaven 
 does n't meddle, boy, with our affairs, as you " 
 have been taught to believe. I 'm not impious ; 
 I 'm horse-sense ! " 
 
 " Oh, sir," cried Paul, snatching at the first 
 pause, at the risk of wrath, " say not so ! You 
 believe in God and our religion ? " 
 
 " Because, " he went on, not heeding, " if heaven 
 intermeddles according to your theory, then 
 heaven and I have met in many a tight place 
 where I came out ahead." 
 
 There must have been something in the young 
 man's face that betrayed his astonishment at the 
 shocking speech, though he said not a word.
 
 CARRYING IT OUT. IQ1 
 
 "Hey?" And Norcross sprang into erect pos- 
 ture with a jerk that spun his chair back across 
 the velvet carpet. 
 
 " Pardon me, I am not sent to teach you right 
 and wrong," Paul responded humbly, though it 
 was beginning to be now the deference of old 
 gratitude and new pity, not of fear. 
 
 " No, sir ! " exclaimed the other fiercely. " Nor 
 no other feller is sent to stand up in a pulpit and 
 tell me," with tremendous emphasis on me, and 
 an impressive pause, " tell me what I shall do 
 and shall not do. Preach ? Yes, indeed. And 
 time was when I suffered it. But, my lad, I am 
 the peer of the preachers. I am one of the pow- 
 ers of the commercial world. I am accustomed 
 to have my own way, sir. I am no longer a de- 
 pendent. Your father is a good old man. But he 
 often riles me. If I did not know that he would 
 not dare mean me, I would often rise and rebuke 
 him for his pulpit words ! Go, preach to men 
 like my brother ; he takes it for law and gospel. 
 But that 's because he 's the weaker man. Men 
 of strength resent this public censorship of the 
 pulpit. And I tell you, boy, they are coming to 
 do it more and more. Go, preach to the ignorant 
 and poor ! " 
 
 Not altogether without a certain quiet dignity,
 
 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 yet overwhelmed with a sense of the utter mis- 
 ery of the business, the young man arose, saying, 
 " I am not called upon to defend my mission, 
 sir. I leave you to the Scriptures for that. If 
 you only would respect me, notwithstanding your 
 bitter disappointment " 
 
 " Whose is all this to be ? " with a swing of 
 his hand towards the enclosed acres of the mill- 
 yard. " This for which I have toiled so hard ! 
 A dear, pretty, loving, little girl's, who is utterly 
 incapable of its management, as you must know. 
 Defenseless I leave her, heir to millions that will 
 crush her, when I die. You she loves you ! 
 You love her, don 't ye ? " 
 
 " I do, indeed, sir," gripping his hat hard. 
 
 "And you propose to tie her down," and his 
 voice rose a pitch with every word, " to a mean, 
 small station? I'll I'll " 
 
 " I wish we might talk about her concern in 
 the matter, sir, and and calmly." 
 
 Without reply, Mr. Norcross arose, thrust his 
 hands deep into his pockets, turned his back on 
 Paul, and walked to the window. He was cool- 
 ing off. It was time to grow collected, for his 
 only idol was involved. The thought of the com- 
 plex hold Paul Havens had taken on his life, 
 was almost maddening. Hence he repaired to
 
 CARRYING IT OUT. 1 93 
 
 the window. The carpet was worn threadbare 
 there. Norcross had stood by this window ten 
 thousand times, cooling off, plotting, studying the 
 auguries of the sky. Fully ten minutes passed. 
 At last, when he could endure it no longer, 
 Paul broke the silence with "I am to under- 
 stand, Mr. Norcross, that you are not prepared 
 to say any thing further to me, to-day. Is that 
 it?" The poor fellow's knuckles ached from 
 their kneading on the table beside which he stood. 
 
 " Humph ! " exclaimed the manufacturer, turn- 
 ing abruptly, though not advancing, his hands 
 still plunged in his pockets. " You have me, 
 there. My daughter " 
 
 "Is, of course, perfectly free, so far as our 
 engagement is concerned, if she is unwilling to 
 accept the sort of life mine must be. In some 
 respects, a life of trials for a lady, Mr. Nor- 
 cross, I fully know. Yet you do not doubt my 
 devotion to her comfort if she should elect to 
 share my lot. And, if you will not misinterpret 
 my reference to it, she would be placed beyond 
 reach of many of the hardships that pinch at 
 the parsonage." Quite calmly the young man 
 got so far in an effort at a peaceful conference, 
 even yet, if this imperious man would only take 
 up his side of the deliberations.
 
 194 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 "All of which you have urged upon the young 
 girl as ameliorating considerations of her fate, 
 no doubt." 
 
 " I beg your pardon ! " 
 
 " Oh, I think you understand what I mean." 
 
 " I choose not to understand, perhaps," said 
 Paul, toying with a book beneath his hand on 
 the table, and fully determined to get smoothly 
 over the hard places, if possible. 
 
 " Now, now," resumed Mr. Norcross, with ex- 
 asperating persistency, "you and Clara have 
 talked this all over?" pausing with uplifted fore- 
 finger. 
 
 "We have, certainly. That is a matter of 
 course. But with a final and dutiful reference 
 to you and her mother, on Clara's part." He 
 raised his handsome face as he spoke, and it 
 was certainly not ill-natured, though the flush 
 yet lingered. 
 
 "But, Havens, I say," repeated Norcross, "you 
 will not deny that you have taken into account 
 the fact that your wife would bring wealth into 
 the parsonage ? " 
 
 Havens bit his lip in silence. Was the man 
 irrevocably resolved, then, to be his enemy ? If 
 so, why stay here a moment longer and subject 
 himself to such indignities ? Yet a passionate
 
 CARRYING IT OUT. 1 9$ 
 
 man is usually very changeable. After the out- 
 break of a moment ago, Paul reasoned, or per- 
 haps it was more hope and intuition than reason, 
 that this excited gentleman might turn a sum- 
 mersault any instant, and make some repentant 
 overture. With mighty self-control, therefore, Ha- 
 vens only answered the charge of mercenariness 
 with erect head, bitten lip, and flashing eye. 
 
 " Well, well, Havens," Mr. Nororcss finally 
 growled out, " sit down. Let 's talk this matter 
 over like gentlemen. That 's right," as Paul 
 obeyed, resuming his chair. "You must admit, 
 Havens, that I know more of this rough, old 
 world than you do. It ain't worth serving, boy ; 
 not worth serving. You '11 get small thanks for 
 this theoretically fine life you propose to lead. 
 The days of heroes are over. Gold is the god 
 now-a-days. Confound it ! I do n't know but I 
 ought to blush to say it to a young fellow like 
 you, full of a. mighty generosity; but you're no 
 fool, and you '11 soon find it out. And I do 
 honestly like you, Paul ; you always struck my 
 fancy. I would ha' made a merchant prince of 
 ye, Paul," with a slap on Paul's knee. "And I 
 say, my son," while his small iron hand clutched 
 Paul's knee and shook it with rough almost 
 shall we say, affection, for the moment ? " my
 
 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 son, I say, I can't give it up yet. I won't give 
 it up! I never give up a reg'lar plan once 
 well thought out. Hey?" 
 
 He bent round to look full into Paul's face, 
 while over the hard, strong features, usually all 
 intellect and no heart, there stole a warmer 
 glow than Paul remembered ever to have seen 
 Lemuel Norcross wear. The eyes, too, were not 
 so dry as usual ; but then, for that matter, eyes 
 may grow moist from many passions and from 
 the reaction after any passion has subsided. 
 
 As for Paul, why, with a sudden flood of 
 boyish emotion, unselfish, beautiful, and possible 
 to youth, he could have hugged the little man 
 and lifted him out of his chair. Yet, there was 
 always a superiority in Lemuel Norcross which 
 forbade much familiarity ; so Paul contented him- 
 self with warmly grasping the hand on his knee 
 and exclaiming fervently, 
 
 " You make it almost impossible for me to do 
 any thing but please you, my kind, good friend ! " 
 
 " I thought so," with a really full-born smile. 
 " I say, Havens, though I 'm older and have 
 sort o' felt a property-right in you, and especially 
 on my little . girl's account, yet it was not the 
 square thing in me to forget myself so in Icttin* 
 fly a moment ago "
 
 CARRYING IT OUT. IQ7 
 
 "Don't speak of it, sir. I I hope you will 
 not think of asking of making apologies." 
 
 And yet a moment ago it needed all his 
 memories of Clara and of the sacred scenes 
 through which he had just passed, to stop his lips 
 from demanding a very full apology ! The in- 
 stant that it came, however, decently frank, con- 
 sidering the man and his years, Paul felt the 
 shame-faced regret that younger men generally 
 do over the contrition of their 'elders. 
 
 " It 's a bad habit I get into, of pushing 
 things, my lad. Now, of course you can't be 
 driven of course not." 
 
 Mr. Norcross was not simulating all this change 
 of method ; it was simply a phase of his pas- 
 sion. You could see that he was yet deeply 
 agitated : his voice trembled, his wiry frame 
 shook, his whole being was high-strung for the 
 grapple in which defeat seemed worse to him 
 than the burning of half his factories. " Now 
 you will reconsider your resolution, Havens. I 
 am persuaded you will. We have been over this 
 ground before, you know, you and I. You re- 
 member, up to the house there. You '11 acknowl- 
 edge that I met your arguments to satisfaction, 
 that evening ? " 
 
 "Yes, sir," replied Paul, almost breaking in;
 
 198 DOLLARS AND DUTY 
 
 for, poor fellow, he began to fear for himself 
 again. God forbid that he should ever open the 
 actual question again ! " But at that time my 
 own mind was not made up. I was very grate- 
 ful to you " 
 
 "Exactly; I remember you said so. Cigar?" 
 lighting one himself: a sign of decided relaxation, 
 for he never smoked till business was over. 
 This business was nearly over. We shall soon 
 have this affair straightened out. One is on the 
 right tack now, the kind, the rational tack. 
 Though, confound it ! we are rather disappointed 
 in the boy : supposed he was more iron, and 
 less soft wood. Is n't just the kind o' stuff for 
 this business. But perhaps the piety of it is the 
 weak element ; that once converted to the new 
 and modern type of decent behavior, and none 
 o' this wild fervor, why, he may be all right 
 yet. At any rate, Clara 's involved ; she must 
 have some decent man, we suppose. "Cigar, I 
 say, Paul?" 
 
 " Why, no, Mr. Norcross, if you please. I Ve 
 given it up." 
 
 " By George, you have ! How so ? " 
 
 " It 's not worth mentioning. But I have. 
 Clara disliked it ; so did my parents ; and it 
 seemed a small thing to gratify them with. Be-
 
 CARRYING IT OUT. 199 
 
 skies, I could n't stand it. Why, Mr. Norcross, 
 you 've no idea how wrought up I 've been 
 over this question of my calling in life. For 
 the last term in college my nerves nearly gave 
 way. I would n't attempt to traverse that 
 ground again, were it to buy a world of happy 
 days ! " 
 
 " So, so ! " Rather sung out between puffs, 
 with elbow on table, cigar between trembling 
 fingers, and fine head nodding out " You do 
 not tell me ! " 
 
 "Yes, sir. Believe me, this question has 
 almost cost me my life!" Hand flittened out 
 on table, body leaning forward, and every line 
 of the eloquent face asserting the speaker's 
 truth. 
 
 Silence again, with thoughtful regard of the end 
 of the cigar, from which the thin curling smoke 
 may be a type of our hope to dissuade him ; 
 and the fire beneatii the ashes yet living 
 to our little finger's touch, type of the un- 
 quenched purpose in this young heart. Features 
 hardening again. Eyes beginning to snap once 
 more. May be more to the boy, after all, than 
 we have ever yet supposed. Good timber. The 
 more the pity to waste it on sentiment. Good 
 timber to lean on ! Good timber to try to
 
 200 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 break, also ! Contempt gone. Might even hate 
 him. You know a man begins to hate the 
 enemy whom he has ceased to contemn. 
 
 " Then you give me no hope that I could 
 convince you that you are wrong-headed, Paul ; 
 wouldn 't come up to the house to-night, and in 
 my den open the whole subject?" 
 
 "My dear sir," cried Paul, in tones of genu- 
 ine distress, " I would rather die at once than to 
 re-enact this tragedy ! Believe me, in God's name, 
 believe me ! It has been to me a mortal tragedy. 
 Now, listen, if you will be so indulgent ; only last 
 night with my father " 
 
 " Oh, it is n't worth while, Havens ! " Mr. Nor- 
 cross exclaimed, like a flash, yet his tones cold 
 as ice. Fire and ice in an angry man's tones : 
 you have observed both, reader. But, as for me, 
 I 'd rather encounter the fire ; especially in the 
 tones of a quick-tempered man. For ice is the last 
 and unchangeable state of such a mind's animosity. 
 
 " But heaven help us not to break off thus, 
 sir. I will do any thing in the world to be 
 approved of you, for Clara's sake, and my grati- 
 tude for past kindness, any thing but that." 
 
 "That's the one thing." 
 
 "Ah, Mr. Norcross, that's between a man 
 and his God!"
 
 CARRYING IT OUT, 2OI 
 
 "Well. Leave it there." 
 
 "That is " 
 
 "That is, we say goodbye, here and now. I 
 hope, for your sake, you have said goodbye at 
 the house, for you are not the man, I s'pose, 
 to attempt to go there after I 've said you 
 must n't." 
 
 Paul groaned aloud with indignation, chagrin, 
 grief, and unspeakable heart-ache. In his secret 
 thought, for the instant, he half resolved that 
 he would, just once more, revisit that house. 
 He grasped again his hat and stepped to the 
 door. Suddenly it dawned upon him that he 
 might not be the only victim of this powerful 
 man's resentment. The thought thrilled him in- 
 describably. Should he attempt to shield his 
 father ? He would, at least, say, " One word 
 more : my father is your pastor." 
 
 "Yes, for the present." 
 
 Paul took the hint and fairly ground his teeth, 
 as, utterly losing self-control, he exclaimed, "Spare 
 yourself the trouble of discharging my father in 
 person. Don't attempt it, sir! I assure you,'he 
 will resign. Good day!"
 
 202 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 XI. 
 
 ON THE ICE. 
 
 T3UT Paul Havens did not go straight to the 
 ' Norcross mansion. It was, in the first 
 place, a good mile away. The open air was an 
 elixir to the already turbulent soul. Instead of 
 tranquilizing, the desperate walking excited him. 
 His strong, healthy body seemed to partake now 
 of his mental agitation and to feel it. No doubt 
 it would be romantic to send him straight to 
 Clara ; and it would be conventional to fill his 
 heart with religious felicity. But the truth must 
 be written. Hard, stern facts, of the earth earthy, 
 stood so staring this young gentleman in the 
 face, that he acted at once a very unromantic 
 and a most human part. He was not in despair, 
 nor did he feel dismayed. But he had to ac- 
 knowledge, with every added moment of his 
 physical exertion, a sense of hands clenched, 
 teeth set, and shoulders braced against tremen- 
 dous and near adversities. He fairly ached to 
 grapple with his loads. He grew too iron-like, 
 as he buffeted the wind ; too much like a glad-
 
 ON THE ICE. 203 
 
 iator, as he termed it to himself ; he was too 
 defiant to go meet that gentle, troubled girl, 
 who had never in her petted life felt the need 
 of desperate strength, and, therefore, would not 
 understand him in his present mood. 
 
 And then, too, no man knows just what he 
 will do when an avalanche begins to thunder 
 above him. Mozart told his troubles to the 
 keys ; the Great Frederick to his flute and dogs. 
 Some men go talk to a favorite horse and drive 
 him, while self-possession is returning again. As 
 good a thing as you can do is to be a boy 
 again, if you can retreat so far, and take refuge 
 in some youthful pleasure that was once the busi- 
 ness, and may now prove a divertisement of life. 
 Paul Havens was a boy not so very long before. 
 He suddenly thought of it, and almost laughed 
 to think of it. It would afford such vent and 
 outgo for this all-consuming virile force that 
 otherwise threatened to rend him. It was some- 
 thing to do, at a moment when so suddenly ex- 
 istence seemed resolved into doing every thing 
 and doing it all in a moment. Skates! 
 
 He entered the pretty little home, hoping to 
 meet no one. He went softly to his father's 
 study under the gable roof, which, in the tiny 
 cottage, had also been his boyish bed-chamber.
 
 204 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 His bed had always been in sight of books, in 
 every parsonage the family had inhabited. His 
 father was not there, and he entered. A lot of 
 the boy's toys hung undisturbed about the walls. 
 His childhood's books stood on the shelves be- 
 side the volumes of theology such was his 
 father's tender whim. The old strapped skates 
 weighted down a pile of dusty sermons on an 
 upper shelf. There were two pairs, one which his 
 father used to wear when teaching the lad, not 
 skating only, but trust and companionship with 
 his sire as well. 
 
 Paul threw the steels over his shoulder, and 
 then bent down a moment to open a little 
 drawer in the desk. He knew where to look. 
 He took out the savings-bank book which bore 
 his father's name and opened it. He slowly 
 turned leaf after leaf, and noted the pinching, 
 painful economy that the small deposits witnessed. 
 Not that it was fresh information ; but it was 
 never so interesting before. What a family his- 
 tory this leather-covered record told ! The months 
 without a deposit, and then the draft, two 
 drafts ; and the dipping out and draining that 
 almost showed the gravel at the bottom of the 
 shallow well. 
 
 "That was the darkest year," Paul said, and
 
 ON THE ICE t 205 
 
 his lips quivered as he spoke. " The dreadful 
 year when mother was so ill." 
 
 But a little farther on, the poor boy bowed 
 his head quite down upon the desk, clutching the 
 book like a vise. He read the story of his fa- 
 ther's fond subtractions to give his son an edu- 
 cation. He straightened himself up to his full 
 height. He grasped at the book -cases, and 
 swayed with pent-up emotion. He gnawed at his 
 lips, that he might not break forth like a child. 
 Then he spoke, low and almost sobbing, to the 
 empty study chair, as if his father now was sit- 
 ting there. 
 
 " God bless you for your love, sir. I knew it, 
 all along. Have I not the same account, in du- 
 plicate, of every sacred penny ? Please God I be 
 yet worthy ! I had hoped to pay the other half, 
 as I have already earned half. Oh, why did I not 
 break my back to earn all, and save you these 
 now needed charges ? A paltry six hundred dol- 
 lars, between this home and homelessness, this 
 day ! Oh, my God, have I done right ? Yes, yes, 
 he himself was so happy and would say I had ! 
 And my own heart still approves. But how shall 
 I bear this burden if I bear thine, O Lord ? " 
 
 With a desperate movement he turned and fled 
 out into the hall and down the narrow stairs.
 
 206 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 His heavy footfall, on the thin rag-woveri carpet 
 stair, betrayed him. His mother came out of the 
 sitting-room, lifting her knitting in her hands, 
 with questioning and startled gesture. 
 
 " Paul ? " she faltered out. " Why, I did not 
 know you were in the house! What what is 
 the matter? Papa is " 
 
 That was a fortunate suggestion. He caught 
 at it instantly ; and there was no deception in 
 it, though he did suffer this frail woman to 
 suppose that his agitation, which she must so 
 plainly see, was owing to anxiety about his 
 father ; for was it not so ? 
 
 "Where is father, mother? Not in the study, 
 I find." He spoke very calmly, to reassure this 
 invalid, who must be spared ; and yet, how could 
 she be spared or shielded many hours longer ? 
 
 " He has insisted on going out to see some 
 few sick, my son. He told me of his last night's 
 distress. But, while I think him better off at 
 home, yet I do not worry. Do not distress 
 yourself, my dear child ; papa is only worn a 
 little. We shall all be better soon, you know." 
 
 Better soon ? Poor, smiling, hopeful heroine, 
 thinking of rest, how soon ? Puss Norcross, 
 perhaps you were right the rest that remaineth 
 for the people of God.
 
 ON THE ICE, 207 
 
 But one can not endure it. One must get 
 out into the open air, into solitude, into hard, 
 fierce doing something, or one will faint here 
 like a coward. 
 
 " Mother, my head is aching. Tell them all 
 that I 'm going to cure it by getting the blood 
 down into my heels. I '11 be in after an hour 
 or two." 
 
 " But Paul, Clara has been over here twice 
 this morning, and and is any thing wrong, 
 my child ? She looked so anxious. I never saw 
 her wear such a look before." 
 
 He stepped quickly down from the last stair, 
 to approach her, and to take her slight shoulders 
 between his hands, in tender, familiar, chivalric 
 approach, and to say, 
 
 "Nothing is wrong, little mamma. Indeed, 
 every thing is just right, or trying to right 
 itself ; and that, too, by a very lofty rule of 
 right : namely, God's rule ! Now, go in for your 
 midday nap," and he kissed her. But he waited 
 too long ; it was a half second by the lady's 
 old-fashioned watch, gift of the judge, her father, 
 in the old days of wealth, which she consulted, 
 obedient to the hint as to napping time. 
 
 " Shall I not send Clara and the girls ? You 
 know how fond they all are of skating ; but
 
 208 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 ladies need an escort of late, the factory urchins 
 and lads are so rude." 
 
 . "No, mother; I'm going to seek very violent 
 exercise for my head and wish to be alone." 
 
 Alone on the ice ! Alone and single-handed 
 in the world! Alone, yet with a feeling of 
 competence as against miles and leagues of it, 
 and strength as against the whole heavens full 
 of it the uprising wind bearing onward the 
 great-flaked "sugar-snow" very soon. 
 
 Whither away? Any whither, so one moves 
 with the wind. The strides, swinging long 
 and gallantly ; swinging with a vengeance that 
 is like pent-up desperation ; and every stride takes 
 one forward a hundred feet in this wind. Swing- 
 ing and swung till one lies out upon the wind, 
 a toy, or a speck, if you please, in this great 
 white waste that stretches up the river, a dead 
 world ; a world without a sound and without a 
 path ; a world into which one is being carried 
 without choice, and yet without wish to decline 
 to go. It is like one's future, this white, bleak, 
 pathless, grand wilderness of ice, of fleecy meadow 
 and airy, tumbled hill masses on either side. 
 Like one's future, save that this track must be 
 retraced ; the burdens are left behind and must 
 be sought and taken up again. Many a troubled
 
 ON THE ICE. 2O9 
 
 heart has sighed for wings. Paul has wings ; 
 that is the sensation. An hour of it, and how 
 far the wings have taken their flight ! It is well 
 to think of returning ; it is probably time. One 
 thrust more, free as air, blithe as a boy ; one 
 more ! one more ! for it may be the last boy's 
 play for a lifetime. And now turn ! 
 
 It is quite time ; the wind is almost a gale. 
 The convenient shelter of island and lea 
 shore will be welcome. Tack and tack again, 
 beating back. He will work the congestion into 
 his heels, no doubt, readily enough, righting for 
 a thousand feet like a battle, and for a mile 
 like a campaign. There is need of care, too, for 
 a sugar-snow is a most blinding thing ; it is 
 damp and heavy as lead. It is filling the whole 
 heavens now. 
 
 What is that ! A woman ? And so far out 
 from the shore, in this bay ? Within a mile of 
 Lake Taskat ? A pond-like lake, to be sure, but 
 a fatal ocean to a woman whose skirts are full- 
 set sails, and whose strength is so frail where a 
 man's almost fails ! If one had been upon the 
 other tack, or just past those evergreens, he 
 would not have seen her at all. 
 
 Who can she be ? There is only one woman 
 in the town who can skate like that. Shout it !
 
 210 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 "Clara! Clara!" Oh, pitiless sky and winds, 
 let the word reach her. 
 
 Poor little thing. She is not skating, not 
 making a thrust, as is plain enough to be 
 seen. She is long past such effort, and is 
 husbanding all her feeble strength, with de- 
 cidedly good economy, holding herself together 
 and on her feet, helpless, adrift before the 
 gale ! 
 
 " She has those miserable rockers ! " impa- 
 tiently exclaims Paul, bending low and calculat- 
 ing well the best ways for such desperate effort 
 as will be needed. "Rockers can not breakup. 
 Clara ! Do you not hear me ? Try to cut the 
 circle backward, towards me ! " 
 
 Whether that small, dim figure heard or not, 
 who ' can say ? The noise of the storm was a 
 deep roar just here, because of the growling 
 hemlocks that clothed the shore bluff at this 
 point. But the young man did not wait to know 
 what heed she took. With gigantic sweeps he 
 was already "cutting the circle" out into the 
 almost resistless blast ; and with good effect, too, 
 for he certainly was nearing her. If he had 
 engineered his are well he would surely inter- 
 cept the lost girl before she reached the rough 
 ice of the wilderness lake. He will do it ! Now
 
 CN THE ICE. 
 
 look up. She is swinging her muff. Hark ! 
 She utters a faint cry, 
 
 " am going to turn " 
 
 He stands upon his heels ! How helpless he 
 would be now with your " rockers." But even 
 erection like his can not break up such fearful 
 velocity, though it avails somewhat. Two spurs 
 of ice-dust, two tiny streams of hissing, white 
 ice-powder fly for rods about his steels. If this 
 snow-storm were only an hour older, its deposits 
 would help on this polished surface ; but instead 
 of that, it forms billows, that roll up in the 
 March gusts and obscure every object as they 
 chase each other madly far out on the lake. 
 Both he and she can now hear full well the 
 fearful pandemonium which the winds are making 
 out in the grim, gray, impenetrable wilderness 
 beyond. 
 
 Clara has thrown herself, left side, to the blast," 
 Her small, strong feet how he watches them 
 manoeuvre magnificently ! Tiny toe behind tiny 
 heel, backward circling, with flutter of hateful, 
 fettering furs and petticoat. Yet steadily, for 
 life ! Toe behind heel, toe behind heel, cutting 
 the backward circle towards him. 
 
 He has calculated his sweep excellently. It 
 all remains with her now. The strategem against
 
 212 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 the storm is, that these two half circles shall 
 impinge upon each other. Will they? A moment, 
 a second, more and we shall know. Now crouch 
 down, sir, that the loved burden does not hurl 
 you both off your feet. Stretch out your hands. 
 
 " Whirl ! Clara ! " for they are locked in each 
 other's arms. "The waltz step, child! Quick! 
 do not give up ! " And they are spinning round 
 and round like a top, breathless, dazed, dizzy, 
 but, thank God, safe! They are not now the 
 sport of the storm. These four good feet, the 
 gigantic and the small are more than a match 
 for the elements. They are being shot towards 
 the sheltering shore. 
 
 Half spent with their exertion, the couple 
 agreed to make the best of their way to the 
 covert of a spruce- and pine-clothed island a 
 mere pile of picturesque rocks, in whose crevices 
 none but the hardy fir-trees of the north would 
 ever attempt to find root-room. Without much 
 difficulty, the young lady and gentleman reached 
 it, and, for a moment, threw themselves into the 
 snow-bank, for breath. The trees entirely cut 
 off the dread March wind. In another moment 
 Havens had whipped out the ever-ready jack- 
 knife, splintered the skeleton-roots of an over- 
 turned pine, which was dry as tinder, and then
 
 ON THE ICE. 213 
 
 with a swift search here and there, got fuel 
 enough for a royal bonfire. As the flames leaped 
 up so cheerily, the young lady's tongue got 
 loosened. 
 
 "I'm a good good mind to cry, now, Paul 
 Havens," she began, rapping her toes together 
 and thrusting them close up to the embers, 
 while she peeped at him over her muff. 
 
 " I would n't, Miss Patient," he replied, kneel- 
 ing on one knee at her feet, and working hard 
 yet at the fire. "You are a gallant little girl, 
 though I ought, no doubt, to say a very adven- 
 turous young miss, to start off up this river all 
 alone " 
 
 "You you know very well, Paul Havens, why 
 I came. You are a downright naughty boy, sir! 
 You keep me in suspense all day, and you go 
 home to leave a dreadful impression on your 
 mamma, and you hint something shocking and 
 desperate about about your being sick, and then 
 you are gone ! " 
 
 She was growing lovely every second ; cheeks 
 like roses, eyes flashing and filling with tears 
 from the excitement of her peril and her griev- 
 ance over a lover's neglect, and her lips curling 
 like a child's when just ready to burst into a 
 real fit of sobbing; but of course she would
 
 214 DOLLARS AND DUTY, 
 
 not. Not she ! And the flash of indignant will 
 was the one bit more of color needed to com- 
 plete the wonderful picture. 
 
 "And so you were willing to throw your life 
 away ? " 
 
 " Not that at all, sir, if you please. To be 
 sure, I felt kindly towards you " 
 
 "Did you, indeed?" he said, and laughed so 
 frankly that this pretence of wrath all thawed 
 out of her bright face, and she surrendered it 
 to a laugh in reply. 
 
 "But I really and truly was caught in the 
 wind, Paul. I did n't really mean to follow you 
 clear up here ; I am not so simple. And it is 
 very lovely in you, my hero, that you saved my 
 life after having been the occasion of its peril. 
 And you never did save my life before now, 
 did you, after the story-book fashion ? Do please 
 stop mending the fire, and come sit down here 
 by my side. There ! " Then nestling close up 
 to him, she asked, "Why did you, now, really, 
 come up here? To be alone?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "And you found me, just the same, up here, 
 as if you had come over, like a good boy, to 
 our house and told me all about your battle 
 with papa."
 
 ON THE ICE. 215 
 
 "How do you know I had any battle?" 
 
 " How docs a woman know any thing and 
 every thing, you child?" 
 
 " But I fear, Miss Sunshine, that you do not 
 appreciate how very grave a crisis our two lives 
 have reached," he said, dropping his elbows to 
 his knees and toying with the fagots. 
 
 "Dear me! No. And just now I have your 
 mamma's complaint I'm ready to fly. But, oh, 
 Paul, it does seem that every thing has been get- 
 ting so grave, and so much crisis ! crisis ! It used 
 to be a happy world. You used to be happy. 
 Now we are all sober, sad, and grave, as you 
 call it. Is this what we are to expect in real 
 life?" 
 
 "We?" 
 
 " Yes, we ! I am not afraid of papa ; he is 
 always good to me." 
 
 " Ah, Clara ! Clara ! You never saw him 
 thwarted as he is now. Why, child, I would 
 not dare to take you away from him, in his 
 present frame of mind. He is terribly defeated. 
 He thinks his life is going to end in failure. 
 He is gloomy and desperate enough for any 
 course that promises relief." 
 
 "We will laugh him out of it. I will laugh 
 you out of your dumps. Why, what a forlorn
 
 2l6 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 clergyman you would be without poor me to 
 shock you, and your congregation, too, I fear, 
 into some fun and merriment ! " 
 
 " I know how true you speak," he responded, 
 looking very tenderly on her, and speaking very 
 slowly that his earnest words might penetrate 
 her excited mood. "But, Clara, as for the 
 church, I shall not seek one which is already 
 established." 
 
 " Why, what do you mean ! Our family, 
 that is, uncle William would do any thing for 
 you. " Papa and he have given ever so many 
 thousands of dollars to the denomination, and " 
 
 "And your father can play with the pastorates 
 like moving on a checker-board. He has fully 
 resolved to black-ball me, as we would say in 
 Psi Upsilon" and he pointed to the badge of 
 this college fraternity, which she wore on her 
 scarf. 
 
 " Never, Paul, never ! My father would not 
 descend to such mean revenges ! " 
 
 " Would not ? He has ordered my father to 
 resign this pastorate ! " 
 
 She simply stared at him in blank astonish- 
 ment. 
 
 "And he shall not have the opportunity to 
 pursue me. We are all going, Clara. I shall
 
 ON THE ICE. 
 
 take them all away. I must begin with nothing 
 but a warm heart and the people. But there 
 are people enough. I will find sick to visit, 
 unhappy to comfort, tempted to defend, ignorant 
 to instruct ; and I can point them to the Sav- 
 iour. They will feed me and my father's family, 
 for they are grateful, are the poor. It is the 
 apostolic way. I build on no man's foundation. 
 The great cities are thronged full of the needy. 
 What is it, are you cold ? " 
 
 "No that is, I think I am not," she replied, 
 releasing herself with a shuddering motion, and 
 getting upon her feet. " But I want to get back, 
 Paul." 
 
 There was something startling in her distressed 
 and alarmed look. Paul sprang instantly to her 
 side and, encircling her, said, "you are right, 
 my dearest. It was cruel for me to enter so 
 much as on the beginning of my plans in such 
 a place. The storm is very heavy. We can 
 never skate back. We must climb to yonder high- 
 way and walk to the nearest farm-house. Let 's 
 see" consulting his watch "yes, the Brook- 
 land stage will be along very shortly. Let me 
 take off your skates." 
 
 She submitted to his kind offices in silence. 
 Then in silence she took his arm. In silence
 
 2l8 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 she obeyed his careful instructions as to foot- 
 holds, while they climbed the sharp aclivity, up 
 through the dwarf hemlocks and ice-varnished 
 boulders to the highway, which lay like a collar 
 on the headland's neck. It was a difficult scram- 
 ble at best, more than a hundred feet up, and 
 at an angle of forty degrees or so, at the easiest 
 discoverable spot. Paul had frequently to almost 
 lift Clara in his arms, which was no small task, 
 the plump burden. Still she kept her silence. 
 Paul knew the resolute girl too well to disturb 
 her present refuge which she had evidently taken 
 in meditation and planning. 
 
 At length they gained the highway ; a sharp 
 walk of a few moments brought them to a bend 
 in the road, and the mere porch of a farm labor- 
 er's hut, which was gleaming out welcomely from 
 two little windows, for the twilight was shading 
 down. It was not till they stood shaking the 
 snow from each others' garments, in the low 
 porch, and awaiting an answer to Paul's knock, 
 that Clara said, 
 
 "Listen, now, dear Paul." 
 
 "Always. You shall never speak that I will 
 not listen. Remember that, whatever comes." 
 
 "I will plead with papa." 
 
 "No, Clara. You will think better of that.
 
 ON THE ICE. 219 
 
 Can you not see ? or, pardon me, I should have 
 said you can see that that would compromise me, 
 for you are rich and I am poor, and here we 
 are, so your father would say, plotting to mend 
 my fortunes by pulling at his heart-strings 
 through you." 
 
 She stood so nonplussed for a moment, with 
 all her imperious little girlish plans of affection- 
 ately storming her father, or of using her own 
 ample pocket-money if that failed, fairly stifling 
 her. She recalled, instantly, how powerless she 
 had been in trying to give her lover money for 
 his education ; by no cunning subterfuge of love 
 could she ever succeed in doing more than get 
 a Wilton on his bare-floored college room. Rea- 
 soning quick as lightning from this, she saw it 
 all. She said, 
 
 "You are going to apply again to the Gov- 
 ernment engineers for work ; and will not go 
 back to Amherst, except to graduate ? " 
 " Yes, darling, to the coast-survey." 
 "You are going to remove your father to Bos- 
 ton, and toil for your bread at figures, while you 
 begin a sort of mission work ? " 
 
 " How bright are we, that we read thoughts." 
 
 " But for three long years you have been 
 
 telling me all your thoughts." And she reached
 
 22O DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 out her hand and took his, promptly yielded, 
 you may be sure, whatever his judgment may 
 have dictated. 
 
 " And, sir," now both hands into both his, 
 and drawing nearer by the inch, " You will cast 
 me away because I am rich ?" And now she was 
 quite in his arms, with her head so up-turned 
 that the red lamp-light through the mean sash 
 in the door of the hut, fell on her beautiful 
 face with pretty effect. 
 
 What could he do ? He shook like the giant 
 beech, which rustles its dead leaves over the 
 porch in the wind and snow. "Ah, duty. Thy 
 name for an instant is tyranny." He thought 
 out loud, though his arms encircled her tighter 
 at every word. And think you a woman did 
 not read what that meant ? 
 
 " Think of a young minister with the scandal 
 of elopement ! 
 
 "Paul, I am publicly engaged to you. Oh, I 
 know that this is unwomanly, to be pleading 
 with you to take me. I ought to become angry, 
 and proud, and piqued. But I can not be. 
 For it is not Paul Havens the man, with whom 
 I plead. He has wooed me humbly enough. It 
 is Paul Havens the clergyman, bound by chains 
 of custom. I must go with you, Paul. I can
 
 ON THE ICE. 221 
 
 not live, else ! I forget every thing, fighting a 
 little girl's fight for life!" 
 
 Pity his distress. On one side, his love of 
 this innocent girl ; on the other side, the 
 memory of that cardinal doctrine of the parson- 
 age and his lather, that a minister's good name 
 is in these days more vulnerable than a woman's. 
 " My son, of all things, nothing kills a minister 
 like a woman scrape,'" was the homely phrase. 
 An elopement or an abduction, an angry man 
 like Lemuel Norcross, would surely force it to 
 be ; at least, an unsavory escapade with a diso- 
 bedient daughter, who was heir to millions. 
 Where was the spot on earth that he would 
 flee to that would not blast him in the minds of 
 the unfriendly world? Every other man can fly 
 from scandal, or live it down. Nowhere and never 
 the clergyman. He could say but one thing, 
 and that he said, every syllable weighty with 
 emotion. 
 
 "My darling darling! I am not worthy ot 
 your devotion ; but, God witness, I love none 
 but you. I shall think of you, side by side with 
 my thoughts of the cause which I am serving. 
 I should have followed you out into the ice- 
 fields of the lake, if heaven had so willed, to 
 die for or with you ! I shall never change.
 
 DOLLARS AND DUTY, 
 
 Think of me, every day, as waiting. Who can 
 tell in what ways the great God may lead your 
 father? I will try to live an honorable life, and 
 win the esteem of honorable men. Go home ; 
 wait there, if it seems good to you. Serve your 
 father's happiness, for I tell you he needs it. 
 He is very far from the right frame of mind 
 for the honest living of ten years to come." 
 
 "Who's thar ? " exclaimed a voice, and a little, 
 old woman stood, candle in one hand and an 
 ear in her other, after the manner of deaf per- 
 sons, at the opening cottage door. Paul's last 
 words had risen to so loud a pleading pitch 
 that they had availed where his knock had 
 not. 
 
 "This is Lemuel Norcross' daughter," said 
 Paul. "We want to wait in your shelter for 
 the Brookland stage." 
 
 " A Norcross ? " growled a man's voice from 
 within. "But then, a 'ooman 's a 'ooman, cf she 
 be a Norcross." 
 
 "My friends," Paul began, in a tone by no 
 means conciliatory, for he bristled like an athlete 
 as he pushed back the door and confronted two 
 rough laborers, just emerging from the small 
 kitchen dining-room beyond, "we must have at 
 least the hospitality of fifteen minutes. This
 
 ON THE ICE. 223 
 
 very cottage and the whole mountain belongs to 
 this young lady's father." 
 
 "Yes, it do!" and a coat began to peel off, 
 for free use of arms and fists. " But yew bet 
 that old hog couldn't come in here without " 
 
 "Hold, Sim!" shouted the other man. "That's 
 marm's minister's boy. Havens, your dad is a 
 brick ! Did n't he come pray with marm as ef 
 she were some pum'kins ? yes, jist like we 's 
 rich. God bless his old white head ! What a 
 singer and a prayer your dad is ! Ye can set 
 right down tew the fire." 
 
 And so it was done. Millions could not open 
 these doors ; gentle service could.
 
 224 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 XII. 
 
 STEPHEN CRANE. 
 
 A N hour later Paul Havens assisted Clara Nor- 
 ** cross out of the stage at her father's door. 
 Mrs. Norcross met them with affrighted looks 
 and, / 
 
 " My dear child ! You have given me such a 
 shock ! And papa 's gone to the city for a week. 
 Where have you " 
 
 "Oh, mamma!" was all the poor child could 
 utter as she threw herself into the lovely arms 
 and pushed her gently towards the open door. 
 
 Paul turned away instantly and walked over 
 to the other home. He found the little family 
 room full of happy people, including Andrew 
 Norcross. No one had any solicitude over Paul's 
 absence, till just that moment, when the Norcross 
 coachman, the lazy fellow, had got over to bring 
 his mistress' anxious inquiry. 
 
 "Was just going for a hunt," said Andrew. 
 
 " Instead of which I will go to Boston with 
 you on a hunt to-morrow," replied Paul. Then 
 he sat down and, recognizing the party as one
 
 STEPHEN CRANE. 22$ 
 
 family, practically, narrated what he thought was 
 necessary of the situation. 
 
 Of course it fell like a thunderbolt ! Yes and 
 no. It is doubtful if a young man can ever 
 break such fateful news gently. Its abrupt tell- 
 ing gave each one of the auditors in turn a 
 shock as each was affected. For instance, An- 
 drew Norcross exclaimed, 
 
 "Zounds, old fellow! Instead of his partner, 
 you '11 be his victim ! " Then he cast a curious 
 glance across to Miss Bella, and allowed his eyes 
 to sink to the floor. It would not do, then. If 
 his uncle was turned against this family, the 
 young courtiers must make different plans; it 
 was a fool's errand to stop here on his way 
 from Montreal. Oppose his uncle? No man had 
 ever done that and prospered. No soul had ever 
 dared attempt it, that he knew, except his sister 
 Puss. 
 
 " Oh, Paul, Paul ! " cried Bella, bursting into a 
 paroxism of nervous weeping. "You fail in every 
 thing ! Is it fated that we shall never get on 
 
 in the world. That school " after which sobs 
 
 choked her utterance. She was an industrious 
 and unhappy teacher in the village school. It 
 was not that Mr. Norcross' head book-keeper 
 was the committee-man. It was, rather, all life
 
 226 DOLLARS AND DU7Y. 
 
 before her, twined in a school-house, somewhere 
 else if not here. She caught Andrew Nor- 
 cross' dubious glance before she spoke, and gave 
 his downcast face another penetrating look before 
 she put up her handkerchief. Not but that her 
 grief was real enough. Too vividly real. The 
 air-castles were dissolving. 
 
 Pretty, gentle Nora was by this time on her 
 brother's knee, with arms clasped about so 
 much of his shoulder as she could compass, and 
 her sweetly smiling face in his sturdy neck. She 
 could feel his pulse, amid the swelling cords, beat 
 across her white temple. Paul could fairly feel, 
 without looking down, the glow of her peaceful 
 smile. She only whispered, 
 
 " Precious brother. We were born to serve, 
 thank the adorable Jesus ! " 
 
 Straight across the room, in the path of Paul's 
 fixed gaze, came the pale, pure student, Stephen 
 Crane. His eyes were radiant. Such an efful- 
 gence was in his face, as made one think of 
 the martyr Stephen's, when he saw the heavens 
 opened. Penniless, charity-student, how different 
 from " Brother " William Norcross, that " power 
 in the denomination"; member of the missionary 
 board, who should send this very Stephen, with 
 this clinging girl, across the seas on the cru-
 
 STEPHEN CRANE. 
 
 sade of the Nineteenth century. Paul thought of 
 it, and then instantly flung the contrast a thou- 
 sand miles out of this beatific hour, as Crane 
 grasped his hand. 
 
 "Brother Paul hm thou art a chosen vassal 
 hm." And the swelling heart so surged to the 
 gates of utterance, that they closed with the tide, 
 and the heart was forced into the hand that 
 wrung and wrung Paul's, and clung and clung ! 
 Doubtless the charity-student, destined to Africa, 
 was tasting angel's food, was beatific, was in that 
 high realm of felicity before mentioned in these 
 pages, but never described on any pages. 
 
 Sylvester Havens was the only calm one in the 
 little room. He sat beaming from his easy chair 
 benignantly, mingled with a strange aspect of 
 manly triumph. He stroked the blue-veined hand 
 of his wife, that lay quivering on the arm of 
 his chair, whither it had fluttered out for help 
 and strength ; her only sign or motion. He only 
 said, and waited for his time to say that, 
 
 " There is no man that hath left father or 
 mother, or houses or lands, or wife, for my sake 
 and the Gospel's, but shall receive a hundred- 
 fold and everlasting life ! Be of good cheer, my 
 soldier ! All in good time the good God will 
 give my son as good a wife as I have had!"
 
 228 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 He caressed the hand. " And I have little doubt 
 it will be my sweet Clara, after all. She will ever 
 be very dear to me. Heaven guard her ! " 
 
 " Thank you for that, father ! " exclaimed 
 Paul. 
 
 All this time, the disappointed, yet not disap- 
 pointed mother, had not spoken. She now si- 
 lently crossed the room, and threw herself down 
 upon the sofa. 
 
 " Let us sing the evening hymn," said Pastor 
 Havens. " How many times we have sung it in 
 this dear room." He did not say, "this is among 
 the last times." 
 
 Nora was at the piano. The lady on the sofa 
 closed her eyes, and clasped her long, beautiful 
 hands over her breast. The hymn halted and 
 stumbled a little, at first. Some clergymen's fam- 
 ilies are quite human ; they become foolishly at- 
 tached to a house, a room, their friends and 
 neighbors. To be sure, some clergymen's fami- 
 lies get hardened to these changes ; it is the 
 best way ; it is sometimes a laborious process to 
 root out every little, clinging fiber of home-love, 
 neighbor-love, and playmate-love from the hearts 
 of the clergymen's children. It has been known 
 to take the heart-strings with it, this extirpation ; 
 but time cures all things, modern church times.
 
 STEPHEN CRANE. 2 29 
 
 The hymn is doing better now. Father is 
 leading it well. The lady on the sofa does not 
 sing, that is, so that we mortals can hear her. 
 The last verse is somewhat triumphant, espe- 
 cially in the pastor's strong, unartistic, exaltant 
 tones. 
 
 " Oh that home of the soul, in my visions and dreams, 
 
 Its bright jasper walls I can see, 
 Till I fancy, but thinly, a veil intervenes 
 
 Between the fair city and me ! " 
 
 Stephen Crane leads in prayer. 
 
 When he is done the room is holy. A 
 lambent light as from heaven is in the room. You 
 might feel like taking off your shoes to enter 
 here. The rag-woven carpet has the look of a 
 pavement of which we read in a book that un- 
 covers mysteries. No wonder such a home as 
 this is dear ; for these are the common and 
 accustomed scenes, save the element of the 
 heroic which Paul's sorrow and joy have added 
 to-day. 
 
 They left the lady on the sofa, hands clasped, 
 eyes closed. But an hour later, when all the 
 house was still, when Paul was in bed, the lady 
 came in and sat down on the side of his bed 
 in the old way. 
 
 Paul rose half up and said,
 
 23O DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 " Mother, I knew you would come." 
 
 She drew his head over till it rested on her 
 bosom like a little child. Oh, how she pressed 
 him ! She stroked his abundant locks back from 
 his brow. She fondled his cheeks with her 
 fingers, which alone were free. She kissed him 
 over and over again, between the fingers that 
 mitered his forehead. 
 
 It was a long time before she said any thing ; 
 but at last, " My beautiful boy ! my precious, 
 my honored, my heroic son! Mother's blessing!" 
 
 But this description is sacrilege. What else 
 was said in that room, who knows ? 
 
 The next morning Paul and Andrew took the 
 early train for Boston. Andrew had sent his 
 excuses over to his aunt and cousin by Bella, 
 who had promised to go to the Norcross mansion 
 with them. Paul had said his goodby. He 
 must make haste, if it were possible to get a 
 place on the coast survey, for the spring tide 
 sounding, on the Florida coast. The everglades 
 were perilous. Therefore the work paid large 
 wages. This stalwart was not afraid. He could 
 earn money enough to meet the expenses of his 
 graduation and the removal of his father's family 
 to the city, if he could but secure the situation 
 at once, April, May, June.
 
 STEPHEN CRANE. 23 I 
 
 " I would offer my resignation at once, father," 
 was his parting advise. " Present it at this 
 month's church meeting. Do n't so much as 
 think of resisting him. I can then be at 
 the church meeting, as I want to be, before 
 I go South." He was full of the peculiar good 
 cheer that a bread-winner always enjoys, a 
 recourse in sorrow, when once he is hand to 
 hand with his tasks. 
 
 The one sore spot in Paul's heart was very 
 sensitive to the early gas-light that gleamed on 
 him from Clara's chamber window as he walked 
 through the gray morning towards the depot. 
 Was she ill ? 
 
 That was a noble apartment ; Paul had once 
 been in it. He remembered how profane he 
 seemed to himself when following Clara up there, 
 to see what think you? Why, the wedding 
 dress, which the servile French correspondents 
 had too early sent over. He remembered that 
 Mrs. Norcross was at their heels, "to help hold 
 out the skirts," you know, and display the costly 
 thing. 
 
 " Paul entered that chamber now, in imagination, 
 and almost blushed to do it. Its windows looked 
 out on acres of snowy lawns. Its walls were 
 hung with paintings that the father renewed and
 
 232 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 exchanged in prodigal variety, from his visits to 
 the art sales in New York every winter. The 
 countless little fixings, that make a girl's room 
 so different from a boy's room, his quick eye 
 had caught without intention, and he saw that 
 every trifle was an expensive treasure. Silk and 
 lace, damask and carved wood, perfume and 
 prettiness, it all passed in confused vision before 
 him then, as it returned distinctly now. He 
 remembered how he almost stepped upon a pair 
 of tiny slippers that monopolized a rug before 
 the grate ; and how, after noticing what a fearful 
 thing he had nearly been guilty of, he gave those 
 two little things half the room, carefully avoiding 
 them. 
 
 By the way, the slippers were now on their 
 owner's feet, peeping from the frill of her dress- 
 ing gown, and thrust up, beside her mother's, 
 on the low, glittering fender, in the fitful dance 
 of the English coal-fire. The two ladies had 
 shared the same bed, the same restlessness, and 
 each other's thoughts. They have risen because 
 they can not sleep more, if they try. They 
 have come to no conclusion as to what course 
 to pursue ; women can not, when the men they 
 love are drawing swords on each other. Women 
 can only wait till the battle is done; high-bred
 
 STEPHEN CRANE. 233 
 
 women, we mean, who can not take a hand in 
 it, to throw a plate, swing a fire-shovel, or wag a 
 scolding tongue. 
 
 "I shall never marry, mamma." 
 
 "Except Paul, my child." 
 
 "We have certainly concluded that, have we 
 not? And papa " 
 
 "Will not so much as think of asking any 
 thing else." 
 
 Then, after a long silence, 
 
 " Paul will go to Boston to-day ; but I do not 
 fear Cousin Puss. I only hope we can keep 
 the good-will of the Havens family. Do you 
 think we should go in there to-day, or wait and 
 expect them to come over here ? " The brown 
 cheeks were shaded with a brunette's only pos- 
 sible pallor, just enough to relieve the red glow 
 of health. She turned her face, anxiously, for 
 the answer. It was her only remaining channel 
 of communication, this old Havens intimacy, it 
 Paul failecl to initiate a correspondence. 
 
 "Oh, I don't know!" responded Mrs. Nor- 
 cross, in real perplexity. "What everlasting trouble 
 we that is, papa at least have with the min- 
 isters! I s'pose intimacy will be broke." As 
 with her husband, excitement told on her 
 syntax.
 
 234 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 "Mamma!" the slippers patting the floor re- 
 provingly, the brown eyes showing alarm. 
 
 "Oh, I am not about to desert your cause," 
 the elder lady replied, folding her arms across her 
 ample figure and rocking vigorously. " I always 
 make an exception of Paul Havens. He 's very 
 nice. The others are all superior people, no 
 doubt. I love the pastor ; but you know, dear 
 child, that we have never now, really, never," 
 and she stopped rocking to speak the serious 
 truth "found a pastor's family that is, you 
 can't expect the same social station in people 
 who have such small incomes ! " 
 
 " Mamma, dear ! " Slippers in use of two 
 standing feet, flash-like. Pretty hand catching at 
 the bewitching brown lock of wavy hair that 
 fell over one of the flashing eyes. "Why, both 
 those girls had a better education graduates of 
 college than 1, with my two years, at that fussy 
 school in Europe ! Bella speaks a purer French 
 and as pure a German ; Nora is full a's good a 
 musician. It is only by the most assiduous read- 
 ing that I save myself from blushing for my 
 ignorance, before those two bright girls. The 
 first law of that home is, ' Be good ' ; the second 
 law is, 'Education and refinement.'' 
 
 "Isn't there a third law, my dear?" laughed
 
 STEPHEN CRANE. 235 
 
 Mrs. Norcross, indulgently, in hopes of retrieving 
 her blunder. 
 
 " Yes, indeed, mamma ; it 's a short one. It 
 is, 'Do all the good you can.' Why, it was in 
 last Sunday morning's sermon! Let me see," 
 and she swept across the room to take up a 
 morocco note- book that lay atop her Bible. 
 Hastily turning its leaves, she at length read : 
 '/ ivill do good unto many. I will wish to do 
 good unto all. I will do wilful Jiurt to none! 1 
 He said it was no original rule. I am sure, 
 however, that none ever kept it better than 
 dear Mr. Havens. Oh, I mean to make it my 
 rule!" 
 
 A rap at the door announced the plain, whole- 
 some face of the housekeeper, Mrs. Needham, 
 who was mistress of servants and general care- 
 taker in this great palace. She followed her rap 
 with her bowing presence, and said, 
 
 "With your permission, ladies : A man from 
 the factory, that little Frenchman, Bloc, to 
 inquire for Mr. Norcross." 
 
 "Why, at this early hour?" exclaimed Mrs. 
 Norcross, turning, arms akimbo, and hands 
 pressed on the chair-arms. " Papa has, moreover, 
 printed notices, that the men are not to come 
 to the house."
 
 236 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 " Certainly, ma am. I reminded him of that ; but 
 he seemed very pressing and and acted troubled. 
 Shall I rap at your husband's door, ma'am?" 
 
 " He 's not at home, Needham. He 's gone to 
 Boston. Left yesterday afternoon." 
 
 The woman took down the message, but shortly 
 returned, reporting "the man all cut up by the 
 news, and asking where he could telegraph the 
 master ; or, better still, if Miss Clara would do 
 so, if he, Bloc, told her what to say." 
 
 " I '11 go down, mamma, and see the good 
 old man," said Clara, gathering a feathery shawl 
 about her shoulders. " It is broad daylight. 
 Then we will dress for breakfast, and ask the 
 Havens girls to drive. That 's a happy solution 
 of that problem." 
 
 She met Bloc at the foot of the stairs, stand- 
 ing, cap in hand, for he "was not dressed for 
 them chairs," nervously supporting himself on one 
 foot, with thumb braced on one hip, and then 
 changing to the corresponding use of the other 
 side of his little person. 
 
 He waited for scarce a good morning before 
 whispering, in a hoarse voice, for workers amid 
 machinery lose the art of the normal whisper, 
 "It is trouble at the mills, mum. Inform your- 
 self- by me. It is the poverty of life against
 
 STEPHEN CRANE. 
 
 237 
 
 the riches of life. It is knives and fire, to even 
 force the master or destroy him. A strike, miss. 
 Behold it thus." 
 
 His kind face was all drawn upward, as his 
 thumbs quickly pointed in the direction his 
 shoulders had been shrugged. 
 
 " Your father is stern. Men love not stern- 
 ness ; but Yankees are not cut-throats, till a man 
 from the city comes to teach them. Behold him 
 teaching in our lodge. I am loyal ! " smiting his 
 breast. "Regard me saying, 'I am a Christian; 
 I will expose you.' Therefore I enter not here, 
 m'moiselle, as a traitor to the lodge. I warned 
 them. Many are with me, the humble Christian. 
 But regard it"; shoulders now down, hands 
 down, thumbs down. " Many are with the Bos- 
 ton man. It will be terrible. I would telegraph. 
 Say Bloc warns him of trouble at the mills ; 
 return. I salute you," bowing low. "Adieu." 
 And he was out of the door like Punch in the 
 show, stumping off through the gray light of 
 the morning. 
 
 Clara turned, shivering, and flew up the stair- 
 way, as cold as the draught of March wind that 
 had entered the great, clanging hall door. But 
 on the landing above she forced herself to stop, 
 to lean against the bronze Mercury which held
 
 238 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 the gas-taper flaring about that broad and deserted 
 upper hall. A moment sufficed for her to regain 
 her self-possession sufficiently to go on to her 
 mother's room. She found that lady in the 
 hands of her maid, beginning to dress for "such 
 an early breakfast " as she had not taken since 
 she was a poor farmer's daughter on these hills, 
 and sharpened her matutinal appetite by helping 
 the milkers with a favorite cow or two. 
 
 " Mamma, be calm ! " excitedly exclaimed Clara ; 
 " but we must find papa ! Our people are being 
 incited to one of those dreadful strikes, of which 
 the papers are now so full ! " 
 
 " Our people ? Stop fussin' with my dress, 
 Kit ! Clara, our village ? Heaven help ! Why, 
 we have never had such troubles here ! Give me 
 a chair, Kit," which the maid, Kit, did, and also 
 proffered the trembling lady the coffee cup which 
 stood on the silver salver. 
 
 "Mamma, it is all against papa; it is our own 
 village against papa! Where can we find him?" 
 
 Sure enough : where ? They telegraphed all 
 day and could not find him. They got answers 
 from Cousin Andrew Norcross and from Uncle 
 William ; from business correspondents in New 
 York and Philadelphia, yet could not find him.
 
 THE STRIKE. 239 
 
 XIII. 
 
 THE STRIKE. 
 
 A LABOR strike is nothing in a vast city 
 *^- like New York or London. The monster 
 population has outgrown its nerves ; you may 
 burn half of a great street, whose population 
 from Battery to Harlem River exceeds the whole 
 of Worcester, and the unburnt end does not 
 feel the charred end. There is nothing short 
 of a national excitement that can thrill the whole 
 city of New York. There is not the united spirit 
 and pride in the city, nor shame for its dis- 
 honors. What would be a deserted shop or 
 two ? How few know where the shops, that is 
 the great coarse brick piles called manufactories 
 more frequently of late, are located ? Murray 
 Hill doesn't know; the Dry Goods District 
 does n't ; Wall Street does n't. Suppose the 
 unknown streets about the unknown hives of 
 toil be choked with angry working men, or 
 Broadway be filled with a vociferous and savage- 
 ly bannered procession. The first is no more 
 felt than an elephant feels the quarrel of two
 
 24O DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 buzzing flies upon his rump. The second is 
 scarce looked at, save by the runners about 
 town, unless the procession, at morning or even- 
 ing, should block the stage in which the ab- 
 stracted merchant is traveling to or from his 
 home. What do the fine ladies and delicate 
 children, in the metropolis, know about a strike 
 over on the east side, or across in Williams- 
 burg ? They scarcely read of it in the morn- 
 ing papers. 
 
 Strikes are terrible in the small city. Wor- 
 cester has a carbuncle between the eyes when 
 workmen quarrel. The whole little city is sick, 
 faint, and trembling. The object being to affect 
 public opinion, it is attained when the whole 
 community is convulsed. "The shops" are the 
 most familiar institutions in town, the "Union rail- 
 way depot " excepted, which by the way is the 
 beating heart of the little inland city. The 
 strike threatens to strangle the store-keepers and 
 beggar every body. The church is in danger 
 of destruction, and the pastor of starvation, while 
 the strikes continues. 
 
 But a strike in a factory village is the worst. 
 It is a horror. It is rare ; but when it comes, 
 it destroys like fire in August-parched woodlands. 
 Not a fair social flower but is eaten up. It is
 
 THE STRIKE. 24! 
 
 a family quarrel. It is a civil war boiled down 
 to the bitterest extract. 
 
 In an upper room over the postoffice, used 
 variously for an " armory," by the one militia 
 company of Crosston, a lodge-room by the Good 
 Templars one evening, the Free Masons another, 
 the Knights of Pythias another, and in its turn 
 by the Brotherly Amalgamated American Working- 
 men, the members of this last-named association 
 were assembled. There were perhaps two hun- 
 dred men of all ages crowded into space too 
 strait for half the number. 
 
 There was this peculiarity about the audience : 
 every man was American-born. Not an English 
 importation here, not a Canadian, not a French 
 save one. That was the key. All the "foreign 
 help," the "imported fellers," were by them- 
 selves, if assembled at all this evening. Indeed, 
 it had been a continual social warfare, of a quiet 
 kind, in these village streets for the last few 
 years ; collisions, and bitter hatreds that only 
 waited for an occasion between the Yankee 
 youth and maid, from these hill-farms and 
 villages about, and the " miserable foreigner." 
 For more than a dozen years, from his first 
 little water-wheel shed up to steam-power and 
 many an acre of factory roofs, Lemuel Norcross
 
 242 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 had run his mills with the industrious, self-re- 
 specting, Protestant, money-saving, New Hamp- 
 shire, farm-reared men ^and women, and their 
 children. 
 
 But, of late years, this sort of "help" had 
 grown scarce. Hence the execrated " importa- 
 tions," mostly French, from over the sea and 
 from over the St. Lawrence, industrious enough, 
 like slaves indeed, not self-respecting nor money- 
 saving nor Protestant. 
 
 In this particular meeting, now being described, 
 a sample of many secret gatherings of the kind 
 those evenings of the winter and spring of 18 , 
 the agitator, John Liverpool, an Englishman, 
 had the floor and was saying, 
 
 " You, American freemen, can ye not see that 
 He," meaning only one "He" in that village of 
 course, and it was never necessary to designate 
 Mr. Norcross more particularly, " owns you, body 
 and soul ? Hi am hinformed that only three 
 old settlers, in all this river vale for twenty 
 miles each side of the dam, owns 'is own 
 'ouse or the soil on which it is built ! Hall 
 these stores, the postoffice, the cottages of the 
 merchants, the 'omes of the royal poor working- 
 men, the public hall, the Hopera 'ouse, the church, 
 'cept the old Catholic, who always own their
 
 THE STRIKE. 243 
 
 'oly ground, the very cemetery, all belongs to 
 Him ! Why, that 's just how it is in my coun- 
 try. We all belong to the Lord of Chester!" 
 
 " Say, stranger, hold up ! " shouted Bill Luce, 
 one of the deacon's boys, who was boss in a 
 spinning-room, at three dollars a day, and had 
 been for ten years. The raw-boned Yankee 
 looked savage. His factory-whitened face was 
 for the moment red as his younger brothers', who 
 yet lingered impatiently on the old hillsides. 
 " Yew talk like a miserable fewl ! He bought 
 and paid for this yere river bottom. This yere 
 industry is all his 'n. And I tell ye he can 
 clean us all out 'er here afore yew can say Jack 
 Robinson ! So what 's the yewse in tryin' tew 
 fight ? " 
 
 "Fight to be free!" exclaimed Liverpool, slap- 
 ping his chest like an actor. 
 
 " Free tew starve ? I say, can't you fellers 
 see heow this yere village '11 be ? The store- 
 keepers '11 be agin ye, and they have yer wages 
 trusteed a month afore ye get 'em. Neighbors 
 a-cuttin' the throats of neighbors in these narrer 
 streets ; the pesky cannucks and polly vous " 
 his for foreign French "will be a-roarin' reound 
 here and burnin' up property. Hain't ye had 
 fights 'nuff with them ? I tell yew " pointing
 
 244 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 his arm, fist and all, at the agitator, "we 
 fellers are Ne-ew Hampshire Yanks ! We 
 abide law. Confound ye, we keep Sunday, and 
 go tew meetin' ! The best thing yew can dew, 
 is to yoke upland gee off!" 
 
 A storm of mingled applause and derision 
 greeted the speech. 
 
 " For three dollars a day ! " calmly remarked 
 Liverpool, sneering at the boss, and folding his 
 arms with two ostentatious sweeps across his 
 chest. 
 
 "That's so! He's well paid!" 
 
 " Let 's bust things ! " 
 
 "We're jest his cattle ! " 
 
 " Who ever saw him smile ? " 
 
 " Three thousand agin one. Make him divide ! 
 We kin dew it ! " 
 
 The chorus of anger gained upon the calm of 
 good reason. The grudges, the envies, the jeal- 
 ousies of years came to the surface. Many of the 
 older workingmen remembered now how they 
 were school-fellows, in the old " deestrick " school, 
 with the now wealthy and hard master, who 
 lived in his "palace," while they lived in his 
 cottages. The grudges of their wives, school- 
 mates of Mrs. Norcross, the fireside piques of 
 the incompetent and unsuccessful against the
 
 THE STRIKE. 24$ 
 
 fortunate and "lucky," all came to add fuel to 
 this fire. Men lost their good sense ; every kind 
 deed of Norcross' and, of course, there were 
 such ; the public library, for instance, and good 
 schools was forgotten in a moment. The vil- 
 lage peace of years was never so imperiled be- 
 fore. 
 
 There was but one apparent deterrence. The 
 foreigner ! 
 
 Cries of " Bloc ! Go, ask Bloc. What says 
 Bloc ? " " He is a white man." " The good 
 Frenchman ! " brought the little, gesticulating or- 
 ator to his feet, skull-cap in hand. He said, 
 
 " One says ! Apprehend, the entire one assem- 
 blee ! Light not the mine of the powder ! Re- 
 gard the two churches, already menacing each 
 other, angry. Regard the two arrondissements 
 of the petit village, Catholique, Protestant, Amer- 
 can, foreign. The arrondissements already are 
 like two villages ; they hate each others' children, 
 even. The industry is peace ; the employed fight 
 not. The idleness is one horror ! " 
 
 " Tell 'em, Pierre," shouted Boss Luce, " about 
 that loafer who is par le vouin' to 'em, jest the 
 same as this English feller to us ! " 
 
 " It is legitimate that one say it. It is veri- 
 table truth ! " was Bloc's reply.
 
 246 DOLLARS AND DUTY, 
 
 " Labor," roared Liverpool, mounting his gigan- 
 tic frame on the low desk of the platform, and 
 swinging his arms like pine branches in a gale, 
 "labor makes universal brotherhood ! I know 
 Leclerc, the messenger sent from the city to in- 
 struct the French. He is a foe of tyrants, as 
 I am. Be brothers in " 
 
 " Shovel out the foreigners ! " yelled some one ; 
 "it's our chance to git rid on 'em. Let's strike 
 for that!" 
 
 Instantly, the spark set fire. The agitation, 
 which at first had no definite meaning nor rea- 
 son in the minds of these thrifty wage-earners, 
 and which would doubtless have failed to enkin- 
 dle the native workingmen to the passion fit for 
 bad deeds, suddenly flamed up into an ever-in- 
 creasing conflagration. This one appeal to race- 
 prejudice did it. 
 
 It began so casually, at the meeting here par- 
 tially described. The room soon emptied, to be 
 sure, on this particular night ; the habit of early 
 to bed and early to rise to meet the six o'clock 
 bell, was yet powerful. But knots of vociferating 
 madmen went wandering cottage-ward, and for the 
 succeeding days, men bent over bench and loom 
 to consult and to fire each others' hearts. Even- 
 ing after evening for the next week, the kitchen
 
 THE STRIKE. 247 
 
 and the "stove-corner" of the village-store where 
 the loungers sat there was not a bar-room in 
 Lemuel Norcross' village kindled and smouldered 
 with race-hatred. 
 
 Lemuel Norcross should have been " on his 
 own land." He could have enforced peace ; he 
 had often been obliged to do it since he first 
 brought the new kind of help into town. Indeed, 
 his bold, hard face could have frowned these 
 Americans into their accustomed respect for their 
 own bread and butter. 
 
 But Mr. Norcross was not to be found ; no, 
 not for a week of this smudge-fire. After Bloc's 
 warning to Clara, which, in fact, succeeded the 
 night's meeting referred to, the wires were kept 
 loaded with messages by the family, and by the 
 city house. But, beyond the simple trace of him 
 at a bank in Philadelphia, for seven intermina- 
 bly long days the great manufacturer was lost to 
 all the world. 
 
 The man in all Crosston who alone expressed 
 no surprise, who remarked frequently with 
 calmness that " there was nothing to be 
 worried about, and he was not surprised at 
 his absence," was the head book-keeper. But 
 this attracted no particular attention at the 
 time.
 
 248 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 This book-keeper was the first mortal to get 
 tidings ; it was a. telegram ; it simply read, 
 "Fixed. Home to-morrow. L. N." 
 
 It was remarked by several that the book- 
 keeper fairly clapped his hands with delight at 
 first ; but instantly, seeming to resume his mask 
 of calmness, he reclaimed and tore up the tele- 
 gram in the presence of .the cashier, to whom 
 ,he had inadvertently handed it. He then quietly 
 sent word to all concerned, the office operator 
 rattling off the messages, that the manufacturer 
 would be home in the morning. It was not till 
 weeks afterwards, that the cashier and others to 
 whom he repeated the concise dispatch, recalled 
 its suspicious and significant wording, 
 
 "Fixed." Fixed? Not the peace of the vil- 
 lage, however. That very night the smudge-fire 
 puffed into a great blaze. Crosston numbered that 
 day five thousand souls. Thirty-five years ago, two 
 farmers with their families were the only deni- 
 zens of these meadows ; they yet lived ; their 
 households numbered, with the two old men, ten 
 persons. Subtract ten from five thousand ; you 
 have four thousand, nine hundred and ninety 
 human beings, all of whom were dependent, di- 
 rectly or indirectly, on the mill-wheels, which in 
 turn were dependent on the brain-wheels of one.
 
 A NIGHT OF TERROR. 249 
 
 XIV. 
 A NIGHT OF TERROR. 
 
 r \ ^HIS night of March thousands turned against 
 -*- the One. He stood between two races. 
 The French were massed, like an army, down 
 in Franklin Square ; an open park-like enclosure, 
 more pretentious than pretty, in that region of 
 mill tenements, which, by common consent, had 
 been abandoned to the foreign element. On one 
 side of the square lay the long, low buildings of 
 the silk mills. Leclere, the fire-brand, was in 
 command there, like a general. They were men, 
 women, and children. They were silent, they were 
 armed with such implements as their race has 
 always used in street fights. The bread knives 
 in the hands of women, the kerosene can and 
 unlighted tow torch in the hands of young girls, 
 were new to the village police, of whom, all 
 counted, there were but six, and two of that 
 number were down with convenient rheumatism. 
 Franklin Square was frenzied with fear, with a 
 foreigner's sense of being a stranger in a hostile
 
 250 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 land, with religious fanaticism, and with despair. 
 Franklin Square waited for the armory. 
 
 At the armory was the muster of the Brotherly 
 Amalgamated Americans, etc., etc. They had 
 been in session since three o'clock of the after- 
 noon, when, by their quitting their places, the 
 great mills had been forced to shut down. At 
 that time, thanks to heaven who alone knows 
 why the mercy happened, the two factions had 
 swept, without collision, through the mill yards 
 to their respective rallying points. It was like 
 the swirl of dead leaves in gusty April. There 
 was this difference, that all the native-born fe- 
 male help flew home; it was the men and boys 
 only who poured along Webster Street to the 
 armory. 
 
 It was then that every trader shut his doors 
 and went to the armory to look on. It was then 
 that the three smart, high, and crowded public 
 schools sent the children screaming home, an 
 hour before the historic New England four o'clock 
 closing hour. It was then that the shopping 
 farmers whipped up and left the streets as de- 
 serted as midnight, that is, absolutely deserted. 
 It was then, at that same three o'clock, that the 
 head book-keeper in the mill office telegraphed to 
 the governor of the State and issued revolvers
 
 A NIGHT OF TERROR. 2$[ 
 
 to so many of the pale-faced soldiers of the pen 
 as would take them and volunteer to stay with 
 him. It was then that all the Havens family 
 left the parsonage and went over to comfort and 
 to share the peril of Mrs. Norcross and Clara. 
 The village terror decided that point of etiquette. 
 For a week they had not met, till that hour. 
 Why had not so good a man as Pastor Havens 
 taken the initiative and made his pastoral call 
 alone ? Because he was sent back to an invalid's 
 bed by the excitement of Paul's last night. He 
 staggered with a cane this afternoon, as he shoved 
 his numb feet along the grass after the wife 
 and daughters, all thanking heaven that the by- 
 path saved them from showing their faces in the 
 empty street. The parsonage and the Norcross 
 mansion overlooked, from high ground, the dread- 
 ful Franklin Square ; by the winding road they 
 were a mile apart ; by gunshot track, not five 
 hundred yards. 
 
 "But you, girls, and you, Paul's mamma, might 
 have come before." Clara's brown eyes said it, 
 not her lips, which kissed them all such a wel- 
 come, she holding Nora by the two hands as 
 they stepped into the library. 
 
 " But we dare not come. We are dependents, 
 and sensitive, foolishly proud, no doubt. We
 
 252 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 knew not our welcome." The three women's 
 faces said this, both to Clara and her mother ; 
 but not their lips. 
 
 None of the women spoke at any length. 
 They sat behind the curtained windows, holding 
 each others' hands, weeping now and then, pray- 
 ing now and then, closing the eyes for long 
 intervals, listening to the good words of comfort 
 that were spoken by the man of God, and wait- 
 ing. These gentle village ladies had read of such 
 a terror's reign. Yet here ir was a canopy of 
 gloom, settling down with the night-fall over 
 pretty Crosston. 
 
 As the darkness increased a heavy valley fog, 
 from the melting mood of the spring day, rolled 
 down from the snow fields on the hills and sprung 
 up from the icy river. The gas was hardly able 
 to overcome it in the gorgeous passage-ways and 
 apartments of the mansion. The ranks on ranks 
 of lights in the mills were wanting ; in their 
 places flared the prismatic spots of torches, 
 down in the square, which seemed to be burn- 
 ing coals in the fabric of the gray pall. 
 
 " It is time for the train," said Clara, who 
 had held the book-keeper's telegram crumpled 
 nervously ever since she received it. In the 
 same hand she now held her watch, and her eyes
 
 A NIGHT OF TERROR 253 
 
 consulted also the tall, old-fashioned grandfather's 
 clock which " never was wrong." 
 
 " Your father will soon be here," said the 
 pastor. " I have n't shown you my telegram. 
 Perhaps you would like to see it." And he 
 handed a dispatch to the young lady. 
 
 As if instinctively she knew what it contained, 
 her face flushed, and her pretty fingers trembled 
 so that she took both hands to hold the paper 
 steady. But she suppressed her joy enough to 
 calmly remark to the company, 
 
 "Paul Havens is coming on the same train!" 
 
 "And "suggested the pastor, "for you did 
 
 not read it all." 
 
 " Oh, no, I did not, did I ? " And her face sud- 
 denly lost its glow, as she turned to read again. 
 The second line had been written by the fright- 
 ened and oft-interrupted operator, in pencil lower 
 on the yellow page. " Miss Fidelia Norcross will 
 be with me." 
 
 "What is she coming here for?" asked Mrs. 
 Norcross. 
 
 Clara bit her lip a moment, and then responded, 
 " You remember, mamma, dear, that we were 
 expecting her on a visit, with Andrew, just be- 
 fore oh, ages ago, so it seems, in the old happy 
 days of a little more than a week ago ! "
 
 254 DOLLARS AND DUTY 
 
 " Hark ! " every body said it. 
 
 It was the boom of the factory steam-gong. 
 It moaned and groaned out upon the thick night 
 air with dread alarm. Did you ever hear this 
 substitute for the whistle and the bell ? In times 
 of peace it makes children shudder. It is the 
 most execrable of sounds. It runs the scale of 
 groans. It is hideous always. But to-night, it 
 was an awful note of terror. To whom was it 
 calling ? For there was no one to help the vil- 
 lage against itself. The village was rending itself. 
 Therefore it was the cry of despair. 
 
 " Hark ! " every body said it. 
 
 It was the long, low boom of the factory 
 whistle. The monotony of it ! Listen five min- 
 utes, ten minutes, twenty minutes, to that change- 
 less note, and it seems to drive you mad. The 
 whistle had begun a long wail, which the engi- 
 neer, as was afterwards learned, who alone stood 
 faithful in his room, meant to continue as long as 
 he could keep steam to run it. To whom was 
 it calling ? There was no one to help the village 
 arrayed against itself. 
 
 "Hark!" They all said it. 
 
 It was the three fire bells; bells of two 
 churches and the bell over the factory office. In 
 a country village the fire bell calls to every
 
 A NIGHT OF TERROR. 255 
 
 body ; all arc firemen ; every one takes up the 
 cry and shouts " Fire ! fire ! " But no one helped 
 the bells now. The same waiting stillness, 
 before the tempest, was in the gray-robed streets. 
 For a few moments, every one in the Norcross 
 mansion sat still, as if paralyzed by these notes 
 of the warning that the storm had begun. But 
 as the great silence without continued one, two, 
 three, five minutes Clara was holding her 
 watch the village heiress arose and went to 
 the window. With a sort of desperate composure 
 she turned and remarked, 
 
 "It is time for the train. But the factories 
 are on fire ! See ! " And she lifted the velvet 
 curtains and held them on her ivory arm, from 
 whence their weight drew down her silken 
 wrapper to the elbow. 
 
 The blood-red glare which struggled up through 
 the heavy air was instantly flung like bespatter- 
 ing paint over the fine ceiling and walls, and 
 flushed and darkened, alternately, upon the 
 magnificent countenance of the brave girl. 
 
 "What is it, my good Bloc?" She let fall 
 the curtain and advanced towards the Frenchman, 
 who, reappearing like a ghost, stood, skull-cap 
 in hand, gesticulating. 
 
 "Informer! It is His arrival, ahead of time
 
 256 DOLLARS AND DUTY 
 
 by engine and the one car. And a mademoiselle 
 and monsieur, your son!" thumbs pointing to the 
 pastor. " It is that the master goes straight to 
 the office, of the others I know not. You are 
 restez avec the mansion, here, till He come ! " 
 
 'Stay here, and leave papa to those wolves?" 
 exclaimed Clara. " Never ! He should have come 
 here and let the miserable business go. It is 
 beyond rescue. But as he did not, I shall go 
 to him!" 
 
 " Impossible, my child ! " It would be difficult 
 to determine who said it first, or who was say- 
 ing it now. It was a chorus; and all hands 
 had hold of the daring girl. 
 
 " Paul ! " she cried, out of the wilderness of 
 restraining arms, "go with me to save papa!" 
 
 " Paul Havens indeed stood there, breathless 
 from his running, towering high above Bloc's 
 shoulders. The glad surprise released every one's 
 hold, and amid their joyful cries of welcome, 
 Clara escaped past them all and was locked in 
 Paul's arms once more. 
 
 " Say yes, Paul. Take me ; take me ! " she 
 was pleading. 
 
 Take her ? Obey that plea ? Ah, the rapture 
 of that unexpected moment, after a week of 
 desolation ! He had had another plan half
 
 A NIGHT OF TERROR. 
 
 formed, to stand here on the defensive for the 
 right, one against thousands. But he remembered 
 another woman, and her noble errand, that very 
 moment in process of execution. And why should 
 not the woman whom he loved show herself as 
 noble as the woman who loved him ? He re- 
 placed his hat upon his head. At that sign, 
 the mother of the young girl flew at him with 
 a shriek. 
 
 "You are not so insane as "to comply, sir?" 
 " My dear lady," said Paul, gently restraining 
 her with one hand, " I have left Puss Norcross 
 going on foot and alone to the black Franklin 
 Square. If this dear girl will accompany my 
 revered father and me, I will take them to the 
 armory - " 
 
 " No, no ! " shot in Clara. " Papa's office ! " 
 " Hush, child," cried Pastor Havens, instantly 
 taking in his son's idea, and shuffling across 
 the floor towards them. " I should have gone 
 before, to plead with our people, but that I 
 could not walk. Sister Norcross, be at peace 
 here. Suffer these two young people to support 
 me. These Americans are my flock. They fill 
 our church. They will listen - " 
 
 "The carriage, then!" sighed the lady, sinking 
 helpless into her chair. " The horses have been
 
 258 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 harnessed all the afternoon for flight, but that 
 I dare not fly." 
 
 In a moment more the lone vehicle, the only 
 one for hours, was splashing through the slush- 
 cumbered streets ; with the call of the gong, 
 the whistle and the bells everywhere abroad 
 in this outer air. Through the throngs of 
 troubled citizens of decent mien, who stood about 
 the entrance of the armory, hands in pockets, 
 or hands hammering their palms, as they argued 
 the matter with each other; through knots of 
 boisterous boys and youth, too young to find 
 admittance up-stairs in the lodge-room of the 
 Amalgamateds ; through crowds of idlers of every 
 age, who were not considered up to that grade 
 of "respectable working men," which the Amal- 
 gamateds required ; yet who now gloried in the 
 chaos that promised to turn up something, they 
 knew not what, to their advantage ; through 
 a mob of people who were all agreed, by this time, 
 in one thing, denunciation on the village auto- 
 crat ; the tradesmen " because he was not here 
 to prevent so shameful a condition of things " ; 
 the vagabond, "because he was rich enough"; 
 the boys and youth, why ? the carriage pressed 
 slowly. It got the right of way at last to 
 the door of the armory. The multitude made
 
 A NIGHT OF TERROR. 259 
 
 an effort for silence, as it gave way for the three 
 occupants who pressed their persons through the 
 wedged, living mass, and, at last, up the stairs. 
 In the darkness no one recognized them, but 
 they owed the possibility of making any progress 
 at all to the whispered rumor that "it was Nor- 
 cross' own carriage." 
 
 At length, when they stood clinging together 
 upon the landing above, a gas jet revealed them. 
 
 "It is the minister!" 
 
 This was roared out so loudly that it no 
 doubt penetrated the guarded and bolted door, 
 on which the most thundering knocks of the 
 crowd for two hours had rained in vain. Surely 
 Paul's knock and shout had no effect till the 
 roar helped him. 
 
 " Enter, beloved sir. What ? A lady ! And 
 your son ? " answered the mechanic, who showed 
 his face, ushered them in, and quietly closed 
 and barred the door behind them. 
 
 It was a remarkable scene that they looked 
 upon. Perhaps two hundred New England faces, 
 from twenty-one years old upward. This company 
 has been sifted since you saw it last, reader. 
 Not a "loafer," not an unthrifty hanger-on is 
 here. It is "only the members." Every face is 
 strong; every face has looked, as often as once
 
 26O DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 a month, through the wicket window of the Sav- 
 ings Bank. Faces flushed and pale with dis- 
 cussion, sad and troubled, as if uncertain of 
 themselves, vexed and ashamed of a humiliating 
 " fix," into which somehow honorable toilers 
 have "got themselves." 
 
 Discarding his living crutches, like an appari- 
 tion, so ghastly pale was the pastor, his white 
 hair flung back, the hovering hands extended, 
 swift in motion, resistless as an angel of light, 
 this prophet of the valley advanced to the side of 
 the demagogue, Liverpool. One of his long, thin 
 fingers touched that bullock of a man, and : 
 " Cease to betray my people, you deceiver ! " 
 parted the pastoral lips. 
 
 The Englishman folded himself up like a 
 pocket foot-rule, and actually squat against the 
 wall, for there was not a seat to be had. 
 
 "My brethren of the church of God!" re- 
 sumed the voice which nearly all of them were 
 accustomed to hear on the Sabbath. Ah, it was 
 sweet as music, by the contrast. What a hungry 
 silence leaned forward to drink in the loving, 
 tender tones ! " For many of you, yes, many of 
 you, now found in such a scene as this, are my 
 brethren in Christ's church ! Oh, the shame of 
 it ! " and the voice choked with emotion. " Oh,
 
 A NIGHT OF TERROR. 26 1 
 
 ye foolish Galatians, who hath bewitched you ? " 
 His very pauses were mightier than his speech. 
 " I have then lived among you in vain. In vain 
 I have instructed your little ones; in vain, helped 
 you, penitent ; in vain sat by your sick ; in vain 
 folded the hands of your dead " 
 
 "Oh, God!" It came out like a groan; it 
 shook a score of repenting hearts ; it was the 
 hammer of sacred memories. No one asked who 
 said it ; all felt it. 
 
 " No. I will not lead you to God in prayer 
 again. What ! Pray here ? Mention that holy 
 Name here? In vain my years among you. I 
 will go. It is indeed time I left the village." 
 
 " God forbid, pastor ! " It was a chorus. 
 
 " Yes. Mr. Norcross is your brother in the 
 church ; that is, I see many here to whom that 
 is a true rebuke. And you have murder in your 
 hearts ! " 
 
 "Boys, hear the bells! I tell you it is time that 
 men with families, men born under the flag of 
 liberty to all, men who have bowed in the church, 
 and murmured the name of the Christian's Sav- 
 iour, get out of this ! The fire-bells ! There 
 shall be no riot of races. Remember who we 
 are ! " 
 
 It was a nameless man who spoke ; one of
 
 262 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 hundreds to be found in all these village churches 
 of New England. Black eyes, black hair, black 
 hands, ashen face, mounted on a chair. 
 
 "That's jist what I said, long ago," answered 
 another nameless speaker, now, with new cour- 
 age remounted on his chair. " And you fellers 
 laughed, an' said I was a pious fool, and how 
 this ere wa' n't a prayer-meetin'. An' I was jest 
 fool enuff to git down. Pastor, I did n't bear 
 my cross. 'T wa' n't easy. 'T ain't like church 
 here, by a long shot i But we '11 rattle eout 
 that ere m'chine an' git tew that fire, boys ! " 
 
 He had red hair, blue eyes, a chest that la- 
 bored like a bellows, the fair Saxon, the strong- 
 est physical type. He sprang forward like a 
 young steer. 
 
 " We only needed you, Pastor Havens ! " 
 shouted another voice ; but to which of half-a- 
 dozen men now leaping to their feet, the voice 
 belonged, it needed the parson's familiarity to 
 detect. 
 
 " Oh, Scth, my brother ! " exclaimed Mr. Ha- 
 vens, shaking his finger reprovingly at the 
 speaker. 
 
 " Nay, beloved sir," the man Seth responded, 
 now within embracing distance. "But it's true; 
 the pond had been gittin' en 'most run dry of
 
 A NIGHT OF TERROR. 263 
 
 mad fcelin's fur a half hour. The sinners here," 
 glancing about, with a clever smile, towards the 
 frowning group of very young men who were 
 knotting together with angry disappointment, in 
 one corner, " may be, wanted tew fight some- 
 body. Yew know Brother Norcross ai n't very 
 pop'lar of late. But all the b'lievers, what 
 thought of the old church, stood firm ! " The 
 springing tears were almost as ready as the 
 laugh. He wrung the preacher's hand as if it 
 were some heavy lever of a machine. 
 
 "I feel as if I'd lost all th' r'lig'n I ever 
 had, pastor, in these blood-curdlin' meetin's," 
 ,said another, out of the crowd, that now surged 
 forward about the three visitors. Indeed, Paul 
 had more than his match to protect his frail 
 sire and the beautiful, trembling woman from 
 these rough penitents, 
 
 "Better have an anxious seat here," said 
 another. " Oh, sir what shall we do ? " 
 
 "Do?" cried Paul, "what is the fire-bell 
 saying?" The words rung clear, prompt, and 
 cheery above the confusion. 
 
 It was enough. The victory was won. With 
 a great thunder, the feet of two hundred pounded 
 out into the hall, down the stairs, and into the 
 street. Perhaps it could have occurred in no
 
 264 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 other land than an Anglo-Saxon, in no other 
 country but our country, in no other region as 
 in New England. Perhaps twenty years from 
 now it will have become an improbable, an 
 impossible occurrance even in those -Arcadian 
 valleys. For the blue blood of New England, 
 the prophesy shall be written by me. 
 
 But it was a fact, good sirs, social philoso- 
 phers, and publicists, that once on a time the 
 strong Puritan conscience, the love of home and 
 the love of the church of Christ, at a pastor's 
 command, saved fair Crosston from a lapse into 
 barbarism. It was an Englishman who attempted 
 to teach them, "the French must go." The 
 "must go" cry is not indigenous. It is not 
 Christian. 
 
 " Fire ! " Is there any other sound you ever 
 heard like the country village shout of fire ? It 
 laughs, it exults, it weeps, it is in terror. It is 
 the excitement of recreation and of toil com- 
 mingled. It is the fool's blat and the hero's 
 clarion call. The deep, prolonged bawl of the 
 men is thrilling ; but the shrill treble of lads 
 and children carries the excitement yet higher. 
 The quavering voices of women, taking up the 
 cry, add the highest, the wildest agitation to 
 which your throbbing nerves can answer. Dear,
 
 A NIGHT OF TERROR. 1-6$ 
 
 old, dreadful excitement of our boyhood ! New 
 York, and all you, great cities, you have lost it, 
 and please heaven, forever ; a fire is as prosy 
 as selling cheese, in the great town. Men, 
 whose business it is, go put it out and done 
 with it. 
 
 When Paul Havens and Clara Norcross got 
 the exhausted good man down to the wait- 
 ing carriage, they stood in a vacant street. Not 
 a human being was left in sight. 
 
 " Home, Paul," his father gasped. 
 
 "But, but my father?" said Clara with 
 emphasis on my. 
 
 The young man stood hesitating, in a dilemma 
 between the two fathers, when the coachman 
 volunteered, " Please, sir, it 's most out. 'T aint 
 any of the big mills. It 's some sheds in the 
 yard if the rascals do n't git afeared of this 
 sudden rush of white folks, and fire the big 
 mills." 
 
 " Oh ! Oh ! " exclaimed Clara, clasping her 
 hands, but forbearing to add any exhortation, 
 as she saw the pitiable condition of the fainting 
 clergyman. 
 
 "But drive to brother Norcross' help, Paul," 
 said Mr. Havens. 
 
 That settled it. Clara caught him in her own
 
 266 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 strong arms within the vehicle, and supported 
 him till, very shortly, they were halting over 
 the only pavement that ever echoed in Crosston, 
 the paved main road through the black dust of 
 the mill-yards. 
 
 The flame and smoke, a dense canopy, 
 enveloped the lower extremity of the enclosure. 
 But it was evident, as rumor had informed the 
 old coachman, that whatever structure was on 
 fire had been nearly consumed. A stream of 
 water suddenly blurted over the heads of our 
 party. It splashed like a torrent against the 
 side of the office, before which the carriage was 
 halting. It came bending over the high brick 
 enclosure wall from the south, the Franklin 
 Square side, near which the office building was 
 located. It deluged, with its rebounding cascade, 
 both Clara and Paul, who were just alighting. 
 It was an impatient and an unskilful stream ; 
 the rural fireman should have brought their 
 palpitating hose through the small gate, a little 
 further to the east. 
 
 The spitting, gurgling, cracking, fresh stream 
 was hailed with a great shout. It was defiance 
 as well as joy. Franklin Square, massed black 
 and terror-halted a little further east, heard the 
 shout, as they also beheld the rush of the
 
 A NIGHT OF TERROR. 267 
 
 Armory, with the decision of despair. They 
 misinterpreted it all ; they supposed themselves 
 now doomed to attack. They were nearer the 
 small gate just referred to. If they were packed 
 together before, they these masses of Franklin 
 Square were crystalized by pressure into one 
 lump now. A mere girl, armed with a kerosene 
 can, unlatched the gate ; she could hardly reach 
 up to the heavy hasp, but she did it and sprang 
 in. A small, dark faced man followed her. It 
 all happened in a trice, Paul and Clara, from 
 the shelter of the office portico saw it all as 
 they shook the water from their faces and half 
 turned to look back towards the carriage where 
 the clergyman yet sat. 
 
 As the small, dark-faced man took his turn 
 after the girl through the narrow iron wicket, a 
 bar of light from a dark lantern was suddenly 
 turned on him. Behind him, in the shadow, 
 several powerful men at the word, " Now ! my 
 hearties!" in the tones of Lemuel Norcross, 
 moved a huge joist on the trembling gate and it 
 shut, clanging, wedged ! 
 
 A lady laid hold on the intruder's blue blouse. 
 
 It was Puss Norcross. She said, 
 
 " Poor Lcclere ! " 
 
 " Mon Dieu ! " cries the man looking up in
 
 268 DOLLARS AND DUTY, 
 
 the gleam. " It is the good angel of North End ! " 
 And he dropped his wad of cotton wicking to 
 the ground, at the same moment shouting to the 
 girl, his companion with the can, " Heloise ! 
 Return ! It is she who crossed the little dead 
 hands of thy sister ! " 
 
 " Yes, Leclere." Puss poured her speech into 
 the man's ears, for he had sunk on his knees 
 before her as if her soft touch on his coat-sleeve 
 were a blow to fell an ox. " Yes. Oh, you 
 wretched man ! Think of that calm Sabbath day, 
 when your priests had cast you off, a communist ; 
 when the word came to the mission that your 
 babe was dying ! Think of her pretty, snowy 
 hair ! Her blue eyes ! Her two little years that 
 God gave her to dwell with you and the madame ! 
 Think, Heloise," for the girl had returned and 
 was kneeling at her father's side, " what we have 
 tried to teach you of the blessed Jesus. You 
 promised, Leclere, never more to be an agita- 
 tor !" 
 
 "Good angel, how came you away up here?" 
 " Never mind that. There is no time to lose. 
 Now turn to those people outside. Be quick ! 
 Tell them in good French what the villagers 
 mean : that it is no harm to them. Here, help 
 him up!" For the gate could not be opened and
 
 A A'IGffT OF TERROR. 269 
 
 it was necessary to hoist the man to the top 
 of the wall. 
 
 He obeyed like a machine. You know how 
 like mercury the real French heart sends its 
 passion for good or for evil, up or down. His 
 speech was like another torrent. He was always 
 magnetic. His power over an audience had been 
 proved in the streets of Paris, and consigned 
 him to exile over the seas. It required some 
 few moments, if you had consulted the tower 
 clock in the fitful glare and flashes of the night. 
 
 It seemed an age, ere the shout broke out, 
 " Vive Leclcre ! Vive la Paix! Americans! Nor- 
 cross ! " But all that came. The man leaped 
 down among them. He flew, like a spirit, from 
 person to person. He was lost among them. 
 And slowly, yet surely, the night began to 
 breathe naturally once more, in the beautiful 
 village.
 
 2/0 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 XV. 
 
 TROUBLE AT HOME. 
 
 T T 7ITH the details of the night's pacification 
 * we need not concern ourselves. How the 
 fires went out, how order returned, how native 
 and foreign fraternized and sent up hurrahs for 
 every body, how the revulsion of feeling which 
 always ensues, carried men clear over into the 
 follies of a joy as silly in expression as the 
 forms of their savagery had been. Such events 
 are quickly told. 
 
 In the large inner room of the office there 
 met, namely : Pastor Havens, Parishioner Norcross, 
 Paul Havens, Clara Norcross, and Puss Norcross. 
 Mechanically they had assembled, all beating and 
 throbbing with excitement and exhaustion. The 
 steam whistle suddenly sighed deeply, and stopped ; 
 the gong wheezed and died ; the bell, not to be 
 left alone, ceased its clatter. The room was 
 painfully silent. Pastor Havens had laboriously 
 helped himself to a chair. The manufacturer sunk 
 into one, and his daughter flew into his arms. 
 
 "Child!" the man cried with a shock, "you
 
 TRO UBLE A T HOME. 2 7 1 
 
 arc dripping wet ! The place for you is home ! 
 Whose carriage is that at the door ? " And he 
 had straightened the girl to her feet ; had almost 
 carried her to the gate, but that he was di- 
 minutive and she was a solid burden ; he had 
 thrown a sofa cover about her, all in the one 
 breath of his exclamation. 
 
 " It is your own carriage, sir," answered Paul, 
 offering to go hasten the unblanketing the horses 
 and the turning. 
 
 But, Norcross was too quick for him. He him- 
 self flung open the door, dashed nervously down 
 the outer office, and saved himself the rest of the 
 journey by shouting to the coachman the neces- 
 sary orders. Then returning, he began bundling 
 Clara out. Over his shoulder he flung : " You 
 too, Puss, heaven bless you, you plucky lass ! 
 But then, you helped to save some of your own 
 property." 
 
 " But, papa dear," pleaded Clara, " you do not 
 know how much you are indebted there, the 
 robe is slipping off ! But I do n't need it. Go 
 papa, please, or I will, and give it to good 
 Pastor Havens. He has saved the village. He 
 is a sick man." 
 
 All of which was ejaculated in a broken way, 
 as her father was fairly hustling her along. She
 
 2/2 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 had never seen him so excited before. His hands 
 upon her person recalled the childish punishment 
 that she last received from him, more than a 
 dozen years ago. Yet she yielded, even to the 
 point of entering the carriage. 
 
 Puss Norcross came quickly after and entered 
 the vehicle. Of course, she knew nothing of the 
 recent estrangement of pastor and parishioner^ 
 and had her own explanations of the distraught 
 condition of her uncle's mind. She had caught 
 the fumes of his breath, several times, on this 
 eventful evening. 
 
 " Now, John, lash 'em ! " said Norcross, and 
 the door slammed and clicked. 
 
 "Why, uncle, there is room for at least two 
 more," quietly remarked Puss, in surprised tone. 
 
 " Go ask 'em then, quick ! " was the surly 
 response. 
 
 Clara's hand was on the silver handle. The 
 door creaked. The girl's frozen robes clattered 
 against the vehicle. She could hardly kick her 
 icy garments before her. She seemed wonder- 
 fully beautiful in the glint of the great lamp 
 over the door, like some arctic goddess In a 
 tableau. 
 
 "Papa! I will never leave that good man nor 
 Paul Havens, wet and frozen as I am ! Have n't
 
 TROUBLE AT HOME. 2/3 
 
 we had horrors enough for one night, but you 
 must add the misery of brotherly revenge ? " 
 
 But the half-crazed man stopped to hear no 
 more. He bounded into the office. The manner 
 of his address to the two gentlemen within no 
 one knows. Suffice it that the three soon ap- 
 peared, and in silence the clergyman was handed 
 into the carriage. 
 
 " The back seat," said Clara, looking in and 
 busy about these directions. "Yes, yes, I am all 
 wet, you know." Then she followed, and broke 
 herself into a sitting posture, "Papa, you know 
 I 'm a little giant, as you often call me. I have 
 health for but what will you do?" 
 
 " My coup6 is always at call here, Clara ; 
 I will come up directly I see the office closed, 
 and things a little more straightened. Tell 
 mamma " 
 
 "But, papa, where is where is Paul Havens?" 
 
 " I do not keep track of the young gentle- 
 man," was the cynical reply. 
 
 Paul Havens was already out of their sight in 
 the darkness. There was nothing, of course, to 
 do but drive on homeward, without explanations, 
 and without delay. 
 
 There were explanations in abundance, the next 
 day, at the Norcross mansion. Puss, Clara, and
 
 2/4 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 her mother spent most of the hours in bed or 
 reclining before the golden grates, which leaped 
 with genial flame in rivalry of the sunbeams 
 that flashed in long, unbroken peace through the 
 windows. Not a visitor disturbed their recupera- 
 tion, nor any household duty or social demand. 
 The Havens group were returned to the parson- 
 age by the same carriage that returned the 
 cousins the night before. 
 
 " Do n't you think you ought to dress and go 
 over? The dear man seemed so feeble last 
 night," said Puss, slipping out of her rocking- 
 chair, and drawing the breadths of silk and lace 
 about her Clara's loaned dressing-gown, you 
 know, and "a mile too big" for its present thin, 
 nervous wearer. Puss dropped a knee on the sofa 
 by the window and looked over towards the lit- 
 tle, white, gable-roofed parsonage. 
 
 "How can I, coz? Think of Paul's leaving 
 us as he did last night. He evidently feels 
 compelled, after papa's insane treatment, to 
 go steadily on the course marked out when we 
 last conferred together." Yet an observer would 
 have seen a light in the brown eyes, and a 
 .quiet radiance of good hope upon the face that 
 was so much different from the gloom of the 
 last sad week. She knew him. She knew the
 
 TROUBLE AT HOME. 
 
 truth as between him and Puss, not from Puss, 
 nor from Paul, but instinctively from their com- 
 panionship last night all the way of that dread 
 journey. 
 
 The day dragged on, with napping, lunching, 
 rocking the chairs, dreaming, and talking. Such 
 a stream of talk. 
 
 ' I met him in the street," Puss explained. 
 "He was just coming over from Cambridge, he 
 
 said, where he had been to consult with Prof. 
 
 about his appointment on the coast-survey work." 
 
 You have no doubt that Clara listened to 
 every word of this narrative, as Puss went on. 
 " He had received his appointment, and was to 
 be off for Florida the next day. You know, 
 Andrew had told me .just this the close- 
 mouthed fellow that Mr. Havens was to go 
 on the survey. Of course we could not under- 
 stand. Papa stoutly disputed it. Mr. Havens 
 could n't spare time to come to the house, was 
 stopping at some cheap hotel. It was all so 
 strange. Then came a letter from papa. Then 
 some telegrams about the mill trouble. Then we 
 were so distressed about uncle's whereabouts. 
 Then I remembered about this unhappy man, 
 Leclere; I think the Journal first mentioned 
 his name, as being the occasion of the trouble
 
 276 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 here. Of course I found Mr. Havens, and told 
 him my plan. I felt privileged to seek Mr. 
 Paul, being certain of my influence with that 
 communist. We at once decided to come on 
 together. We met your papa at Nashua Junction. 
 It was a great surprise. You know the rest." 
 
 " Did papa and Paul have any conversation 
 on the train ? " asked Mrs. Norcross. 
 
 "Scarcely any. But, though I noticed his want 
 of cordiality, he spent most of his time in the 
 smoking compartment, I attributed it to the 
 village trouble. Then what Andrew had said 
 oh, I do n't know ! It is all a dream. You have 
 told me the first real facts in the case." 
 
 On this face, too, there was a look of satis- 
 faction and hopefulness which grew as the fatigues 
 of the previous day gave way. There was a 
 wide difference in the health, and hence in the 
 recovery, of these two girls. 
 
 "I understand," at one time remarked simple 
 Mrs. Norcross to Puss, "that you quite approved 
 of Paul Havens' choice of vocation. You ought 
 to be very happy." 
 
 " I ? " was the quick response. She managed 
 her face well, however ; and then, too, it was 
 not Clara, but her mother, who was putting this 
 question to her. " What is it to me, aunt ? No
 
 TROUBLE AT HOME. 2// 
 
 doubt the property will be managed somehow. 
 For that matter, papa has already given me two 
 hundred thousand. lie said it seemed best. In- 
 deed, I think papa feels that we are rich enough, 
 as a family, and wonders at Uncle Lemuel's 
 devotion to business. Perhaps I ought not to 
 tell it, I do n't know, but sister and I have 
 no prospective interest in the mills now. It 's 
 only Andrew whom papa is looking after." 
 
 This was so serious a turn to the conversa- 
 tion, that the good matron who really loved 
 money as much as her husband, being Yankee 
 born and thrifty did not pursue her motherly 
 purpose, to "drag to light the exact state of 
 things in Puss' heart." 
 
 The April day winter in the morning and 
 spring at midday had declined again to winter, 
 for the sun was setting. Sleighs in the morning, 
 wheeled vehicles at noon, a few sleighs at night 
 again; but fewer each evening, over the the grid- 
 ironed streets, toiled past the warm windows of 
 the drawing-room where Clara and Puss stood 
 looking dreamily out, each looping a curtain over 
 her hand and shoulders. What a contrast in 
 hands and shoulders ! But the two faces had the 
 identical expression, at the first glance, as the 
 two tongues exclaimed in concert,
 
 2/8 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 "There goes Paul Havens!" 
 
 Then the two faces changed their expression, 
 one into satisfaction, the other into unmis- 
 takable distress, yet with such a gleam of faith 
 over all. 
 
 The latter face, Clara's, said, " It is nearly 
 time for the Boston express. He is to take that, 
 no doubt." The other face said, " Yes," and then 
 its owner dropped the curtain which she had 
 been holding, at the same time moving away. 
 
 The other face still tarried at the window. A 
 hand was ready. He has not looked back yet. 
 He must pick his way over the ice-ruts of that 
 path that descends abruptly the steep aclivity 
 to Franklin Square. It is a short cut for a 
 pedestrian loaded with a hand-bag. He is on the 
 brow of the hill. He looks back. He is very 
 conspicuous, manly, strong, against the after- 
 glow of the western sky. She can see what, 
 perhaps, no one else could, save his tender- 
 hearted mother, who may be also watching from 
 windows with smaller panes, that he starts with 
 surprise. She lets the curtain fall behind her. 
 Its purple is the background for her, statuesque, 
 and the afterglow illumines her; howbeit, she had 
 only thought of concealment from that other 
 young lady who was now thrumming the piano.
 
 TROUBLE AT HOME. 2 79 
 
 He has defied judgment, prudence, reason, reso- 
 lution ; all those forces to the winds ! He has 
 obeyed his heart and saluted her. She has 
 thrown him one in return that fond old kiss 
 throwing which is among the earliest motions 
 which our infantile hands are taught. 
 
 The usual family dinner soon ensued. The la- 
 dies, indeed, were already dressed and waiting for it, 
 when they first took their stations by the win- 
 dow. It was a somewhat stately affair, this fam- 
 ily dinner, so far as dressing, servants, courses, 
 and pretensions were concerned. Clara did her 
 best, always, to lend to the ceremonies the true 
 refinement of simplicity and unaffected love. But 
 her mother had borrowed the formalities bodily 
 from books and experience amid the society-ways 
 of such very wealthy people they mingled with 
 on their frequent city visits. She insisted, dear, 
 simple, kindly-intentioned heart, that their wealth 
 and station demanded it. 
 
 Brushed, smoothed, and wearing his hard smile, 
 Mr. Norcross entered the dining-room with : 
 "Well, Puss, after our little village-row, you will 
 stay and make us that visit, while you rest. 
 'T is n't the best time to come to the country, 
 as you know," handing her with brusque formal- 
 ity to a chair. "Just now we have well,
 
 280 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 there 's no opera, my child, and our church is not 
 in a happy state. Pastor's just resigning; here's 
 his note to that effect in my pocket, by the way. 
 But you can go sugaring ; you know how you 
 used to like maple sugar, years ago, up here " 
 the head down, and a meaningless mumble, which 
 no one could understand, though the standing 
 servants and the seated family all bowed the 
 head. 
 
 "I am inexpressibly pained to to hear," Puss 
 returned, "that you are to part with pastor 
 with the Havens family, uncle." 
 
 "Oh, well," he replied, smoothing out his nap- 
 kin and wrinkling up his face, " it 's immate- 
 rial. You know pastors now-a-days are birds of 
 passage ; have n't altogether liked the man for 
 months ; getting old ; wanted to pension him off 
 a year ago, but the folks over to the parsonage 
 are pr are very sensitive people." 
 
 "Papa," Clara began, her eyes swimming, for 
 the sudden mention of that resignation in her 
 father's pocket was so unexpected, "papa, he is 
 so paternal in his preaching of late, like some old 
 prophet " 
 
 " Yes indeed," sipping the soup, " altogether 
 too much so. Preaches at I do n't mind speak- 
 ing of it here in the family straight at me,
 
 TROUBLE A7^ HOME. 28 1 
 
 Sabbath after Sabbath ! " But then, glancing up 
 at the lugubrious shadows on the ladies' faces, 
 and remembering that of all things he abominated 
 a " sober dinner," he added, " it 's all right. His 
 children can take good care of him. Let 's treat 
 them with the utmost kindness while they stay. 
 Mark me," with the smack of hard authority, 
 " that 's my wish. Necessary for the peace of 
 the church. The church is every thing. I must 
 guard the church. Let 's dismiss the topic." 
 
 "But, sir," Puss ventured to resume, "Are not 
 the church greatly attached to him ? Have they 
 no voice in this matter ? Papa " 
 
 " Oh, I know Bill's way" he answered, shaking 
 his head as he arose to carve. " Of course there 
 will be a little scene. But they always acquiesce 
 in my judgement. They are good fellows, the 
 brethren. Saved my mills, my dears ! Yes, in- 
 deed ! " carving away. " I know that the simple 
 piety of the common people Christian people 
 saved the village from ruin. Distributed a thou- 
 sand dollars to-day, by way of rewards. A little 
 money goes a great ways. Any choice of cuts, 
 Puss ? Do n't know your tastes like the others." 
 
 " But, papa," Clara remonstrated, yet very 
 gently, for she had \to acknowledge to herself a 
 growing sense of almost fear of her father, of
 
 282 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 late, in his changed mood, " do you think it your 
 privilege to so dispose of affairs in in a 
 Christian church ? " 
 
 " How, child ? " with a blank stare. 
 
 "Why, consulting your own wishes only." 
 
 "Clara, didn't I build this edifice from 
 corner-stone to cross ? " 
 
 "Don't lose patience with me, uncle Lem," 
 said Puss, interlacing her fingers and leaning on 
 the table edge ; " but surely, papa paid half 
 the cost of our great church at home, and 
 yet he regards himself the servant of others, 
 the conservator of the wishes of the humble 
 
 poor 
 
 " Now please do n't preach," Mr. Norcross, 
 replied, thinking banter better than argument 
 with ladies, "and I '11 show you what I brought, 
 well, Puss, I didn't expect to find you here 
 of course ; but your present is to come, you 
 brave girl, be sure of that. Sleepy ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir," replied the waiter, who answered 
 Mr. Norcross' use of this name ; but it would 
 have been almost worth the life of any colored 
 person in town to have so addressed Mr. Charles 
 Sumner Biglake, chief servant at " the man- 
 sion." He was a New Hampshire born negro. 
 He said, "yes, sir," not yes, sar. He folded
 
 TROUBLE AT HOME. 283 
 
 his hands under his apron, in the most approved 
 style, and bowed obsequiously. 
 
 " Go into the den, and on the center table, 
 right beside my gloves I think, wonder I 
 have n't lost the parcels in the last few hours' 
 fracas, bring me what you find. If they are 
 not there, two boxes, look in the tail pockets 
 of my overcoat." 
 
 Meanwhile silence, and change of course. The 
 silence, being fatal to hope, grew painful. Mrs. 
 Norcross, who had hardly spoken during the 
 meal, returned to remark that her husband 
 looked "fresher than in the morning, if he had 
 had only two hours' sleep." To which it was 
 hardly worthy to be called a reply, the " Oh, 
 I 'm well enough. Sleepy ! Sleepy ! " 
 
 But as the man yet lingered, Mr. Norcross 
 said, " Now daught" short for daughter, " just 
 choke it down. Please, do ! You shall have any 
 thing in the world. Do n't cry. Ah, Sleepy, 
 come at last ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir. In your cigar-box, sir. Had to 
 hunt." 
 
 " Well," snatching the parcels and tearing 
 them open. " There, Clara. That 's the new 
 3tecl gray diamond. Or steel blue, I forget 
 which. It 's the rage now. Two rings. Tiffany's.
 
 284 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 Here, mamma." For he had to toss the precious 
 thing across the table to his wife. Puss, at his 
 right hand, was examining as she passed on 
 Clara's, two pretty heads together. 
 
 And so we get off clear of the troublesome 
 ministerial question, no doubt, and back again 
 into our own world of wealth and its spending. 
 This clerical affair was a mere incident at most. 
 It will not be necessary to think of it again 
 before Sunday. The church and Sunday ; one 
 day out of seven. We can talk now of where 
 we have been, what city friends we saw, of 
 city gossip and personalities. We can forget, at 
 the dinner table and while we smoke our after- 
 dinner cigar, and the ladies sing and play, and 
 mother sits with folded hands and worships us, 
 forget all our servants and subordinates, whether 
 cooks or clergy. 
 
 Or we could have done so until recently. Now 
 however, a letter in our pocket but that will 
 come up in routine. Now the vision of a strong, 
 resolute young fellow, square set across all our 
 plans of life but him we have disposed of. 
 Now something else on our mind. Not the 
 village riot, for that is quelled. Not softenings 
 or relentings of heart and pangs of conscience 
 over our proposed treatment of a saintly old
 
 TROUBLE AT HOME. 285 
 
 man ; not perplexity about our daughter's hap- 
 piness, for we can buy her any thing which this 
 world can offer. 
 
 You have not guessed aright, ladies, though 
 you study intently the fitful and unnatural moods 
 of the man; study as you try dutifully to make 
 his half hour, graciously granted before the toil 
 in his den, as resonant with song and cheer as 
 dutiful and beautiful women can. 
 
 Meanwhile, the spring advances. The fiery 
 summer that blazes over the everglades of 
 Florida is transferred into weeping and smiling 
 early spring in New Hampshire. From the man- 
 sion to the cottage rarely from the cottage to 
 the mansion the ladies come and go. From 
 Key West to Cape Sable, on up the gorgeous, 
 fatal coast to Cape Romano, threading its way 
 through festoons of maiden's hair and lakes of 
 wondrous lilies that seek in vain to defend the 
 virgin rivers, the government steam launch 
 comes and goes. The snows are all gone from 
 the northern hills, and May has come. The 
 visitors are all gone from St. Augustine even, 
 and many a shape of peril has come. Puss 
 lingers and goes " Maying " with Clara, for the 
 time begins to hang heavy, and when they come 
 into dinner, fresh-plucked trailing arbutus smells
 
 286 DOLLARS AA r D DUTY. 
 
 sweet upon the table, as no other flower of the 
 older year ever does. Paul Havens also lingers 
 far away, and time is not allowed to hang 
 heavy. When the young engineer comes in, to 
 sleep in fort or under canvas, why there are 
 the day's observations to make up, and a strange 
 stiffness in the back and very bones to be slept 
 away. No news of this bone-ache is sent away 
 in the letters; be careful of that. 
 
 Puss and Clara are of one mind about the 
 Havens family. " You told me the truth about 
 them, long ago," says Puss. " The more I see 
 them the more I love them all. I wish it 
 were possible to share our abundance with them." 
 
 " Because I know them so well and wish to 
 keep their love," is Clara's reply, "I do not try 
 that. But they have a strong hand," and her 
 voice quavered, "to their defending." 
 
 The strong hand was, indeed, earning much. 
 Such service earned its price. It was not the 
 money which troubled Paul Havens. It was that 
 his uniform grew unmistakably too ample : he 
 used to catch at the breast of his coat and gather 
 it in folds. Yet he ate voraciously, and was not 
 weakened, no, not weakened. There arc times 
 when the chief officer of an expedition must keep 
 up for his men's sake. There is all of May and
 
 TROUBLE AT HOME. 
 
 half of June to come yet. They who need much 
 money must earn it. They who would earn much 
 money in a short time must do or suffer many 
 things. Better have the bones ache, than the 
 heart and conscience ache. 
 
 Is it not so, Mr. Lemuel Norcross ? If the 
 fellow with the aching bones could only have seen 
 the fellow with the aching heart and conscience, 
 and head, yes, and feet, too, running about these 
 clays ! What could have so disturbed Norcross 
 these days ? Not the sense of any wrongs in- 
 flicted on the Havens company ? Probably not ; 
 for this was not the first pastor to be hard 
 handled. Indeed, he was long since quite hardened, 
 lucky man, to the dismission of employe's. 
 
 " Will this Congress never get out of Washing- 
 ton ? This abominable extra session ! " exclaimed 
 Mr. Norcross one evening. " Here it is June to- 
 morrow. Puss, excuse your uncle ; but when are 
 you planning to go home ? " 
 
 "Indeed, uncle," she answered, with a laugh, 
 " I ought to have gone two weeks ago. My poor 
 little mission " 
 
 " Oh, bother the mission ! " was his impatient 
 
 reply. " Come, let 's all go on to Washington. 
 
 I must go. I '11 strangle our senator if he do n't 
 
 - but no matter. Clara and mother, what say
 
 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 you ? You can take the first peep at the Water 
 Gap, or go along to West Virginia and the 
 mounains." 
 
 Clara and Puss exchanged glances. Mrs. Nor- 
 cross, who evidently was in the secret, merely 
 glanced up over her knitting she indulged the 
 early habit only at home as much as to say, 
 "I told you so." All of this took a few seconds 
 of time. 
 
 " Settled, then, is it ? Sleepy, have my own 
 car put in order for to-morrow noon's New York 
 express," said Mr. Norcross. 
 
 " But, papa," Clara objected, approaching and 
 standing over him, familiarly arranging his black 
 locks over his one bold spot, " I was going down 
 with Puss for a month." She did not add that 
 she and Puss had consulted with her mother as 
 to the propriety of the two happening to be at 
 Amherst on Commencement-Day, June 25th. 
 
 Curious that they could plan this together ? 
 Perhaps so ; but together, with Andrew along, 
 there could be no impropriety in it. Then, too, 
 possibly Mr. William Norcross, of the Missionary 
 Board, would join them, for he had developed a 
 decided interest in the "saintly Stephen Crane, 
 destined for the Dark continent," who would 
 then graduate.
 
 TROUBLE AT HOME. 289 
 
 But there was no need to tell this. The 
 penetration of this acute man was wonderful. 
 What others inquired to know, Lemuel Norcross 
 know by intuition ; or rather by that rapid and 
 brilliant action of mind that matched motives and 
 reasons with almost the assurance of prophesy. 
 However, he was too politic to reveal his 
 thoughts, assuming a playful air, like velvet 
 covering iron, he said, " Pshaw ! Boston 's dull 
 as a hoe at this season. Besides, I want you 
 to meet a young friend of mine, son of Gov- 
 ernor Nevada! There!" 
 
 Ah, how the shrewd man, in the very pride 
 of his shrewdness, had blundered, manlike. But 
 still he could not see the flush on the fair face, 
 bending down as the delicate fingers sought out a 
 gray hair and smoothed it in among the raven black. 
 
 Two months ago, the loving arms of this 
 trembling creature would have wound about the 
 man's neck and the brown cheeks would have 
 stifled his veto of her own wishes. But he is a 
 changed man of late, we notice. Hence, the girl 
 looked pleadingly over to her mother with whom 
 this only child still had all power. And it 
 needed a tremendous power to embolden Mrs. 
 Norcross to say it, with many a "hem" and a 
 laying down and taking up of her knitting.
 
 290 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 " Father," she began and approaching him to 
 try on the wristlets, which, with his blue, wool 
 socks, comprised the work now left these needles. 
 " The girls and I rather want to say goodby 
 to the Havenses, next week. You do n't care, 
 do you ? Let me try on this wristlet." 
 
 He submitted in silence to the adjustment of 
 the maroon woolen ; he neither said that it fitted 
 or ill-fitted ; he did not break the stillness for 
 some of those seconds that are so provokingly 
 long ; then he arose, lit his cigar over the Ar- 
 gand, and gathering up his hands full of "the 
 house-mail," turned to remark, 
 
 "You can follow your own inclinations, my 
 dears. I generally am left to myself, of late. I 
 shall go to Washington in the morning. Please 
 let me know, when Sleepy comes in, what you 
 decide. I do n't need a whole car." And he 
 moved off to the den. 
 
 After he was gone, glances and tears argued 
 it out. There was no cackling, as became the 
 intelligent and loving. When the women of a 
 man's household give him over, he is gone ; bet- 
 ter hold on hard and long. 
 
 So was it. And that very evening, there were 
 goodbys spoken, over in the parsonage sitting- 
 room, and embraces and tears, with hope and
 
 TROUBLE AT HOME. 
 
 faith to keep some, and doubt and despair to 
 drag down others. 
 
 Who can describe a leave-taking of love ? 
 What need of it ? I would like to attempt the 
 description, to some happy denizen of another 
 world than this, to whom it might be altogeth- 
 er fresh information. I would begin thus, 
 
 " This is one of the sensations which we mor- 
 tals often have. It is called a farewell, or a 
 goodby ; it is exquisite in its thrill and agita- 
 tion of the whole being. Now, listen, angel: I 
 portray to you a parting scene. Rehearse this 
 not, O celestial foreigner, to any of my fellow-mor- 
 tals, for they would all have me in derision for 
 my failure ; but I may attempt it with you. Con- 
 ceive of love ; love almost like your celestial pas- 
 sion, at times. Conceive, then, of a rending, a 
 throwing of one heart to the east, and another 
 to the west, so far what? You can not con- 
 ceive of that ? Then, listen, while I begin 
 again." 
 
 Then I would attempt to portray the June 
 Sabbath that fell down out of the heavens, 
 soft as heavenly light, and over Crosston, four 
 days later than the last recorded incidents of this 
 story. How the June fell, like a blessing, in 
 through the open windows and doors of every
 
 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 dwelling in all Crosston, except alone the win- 
 dows and doors of the Norcross mansion. These 
 were closed, blinded, and curtained one very side, 
 save the servants' ell. The June lay softly in 
 through the stone mullions and sashes of the 
 granite church that Mr. Norcross built. The 
 song of birds was everywhere ; their morning con- 
 certs in June Sabbaths are prolonged till they 
 mingle with the organ rumble, at half-past ten 
 o'clock. Well-bred country birds, robins, for in- 
 stance, not your piping city sparrows, those 
 crest-fallen mendicants of the sidewalk, will often 
 come and sit on the shrubbery that nods in the 
 church-yard, and join in the hymns of praise to 
 the common Father. You may see a devout 
 robin- redbreast, sometimes, listening, unmistakably 
 listening, to the sermon, his pert head turning and 
 debating, no doubt, as he watches the preacher 
 through the open sash by the pulpit, the bird 
 upon the flowering vine of morning-glory. 
 
 The buzz of harmless insects is in the drowsy 
 air, their gentle murmur like the sweet air's 
 voice of peace, and you listen as if the balmy 
 air, once a year in June, had been given speech 
 to tell you how it yearns to bless you. The 
 clean-robed children, on their way to church, 
 harken mystified, and then, discovering the cause,
 
 TROUBLE A T HOME, 293 
 
 add their glee of laughter to the murmur of the 
 happy insect life. Such peace is in the perfume 
 of a million flowers heavy, abundant, intoxicating 
 to the tired nerves ! Such reverence is in the call 
 of the bell poor city folk, you hate the bell 
 that rings in your very chamber window the 
 bell, apart from all, upon the village-green, whose 
 note is softened in the vast spaces of the val- 
 ley, and mellowed by the verdant, giant hills, 
 and echoed on for miles ; till the very flocks on 
 distant pasture uplands, pause from their feeding 
 to rejoice with the unyoked ox of their com- 
 pany bellowing his amen. 
 
 One would almost dare hope that bell might 
 be heard in far-away Florida marshes, for it 
 must certainly be heard in heaven, angel ; heard 
 in a distant Boston avenue, also ; heard in the 
 pretty little park that fronts the president's house 
 in Washington, where a young lady, alone and 
 lost in listening, doubtless, for the bell so far 
 away, stood in the scant shadow of the eques- 
 trian Jackson, and wrote the initials of a young 
 man's name in the gravel, with the tip of her 
 sunshade. 
 
 And now the orderly muster of the white- 
 robed, flower-decked women, men fresh-starched 
 and shaven, and youth in attire of simple village
 
 294 DOLLARS AND DUT\. 
 
 coquetry ; for there is no other scene for the dis- 
 play of dress, and such dress can hardly offend 
 the God whose day it is most meant to honor. 
 The greetings, too, almost like heaven, angel ; 
 so are the week-day strifes forgot. Strifes ? 
 What strifes can there be, angel, among them 
 where none are rich, and none are poor ; none 
 borrower, none lender ; save the tradesman here 
 and there, and he smilingly gracious in that spell 
 which hallows all at the doors of the house of 
 God. 
 
 A noble building this, whose cost was never 
 counted ; a cathedral fit for a capital. It lacks 
 nothing, but soon is to lack every thing ! at least, 
 so one would judge, to read the thousand faces 
 all inscribed with fear and some with tears 
 already. Yet, speaking of the faces, angel, note 
 how submissive are they all ; not stout to 
 resist or utter protest. There is that one blem- 
 ish on the New England face the dollar-rcvcr- 
 cnce, and grown plainer of late years since the 
 men left the sterile, honest farms for the great 
 men's shops. All these know full well who 
 built this church of which they have been so 
 proud, in which they have been so happy and 
 now arc so miserable. All these are both com- 
 fortable and wretched ; they are in confusion of
 
 TROUBLE AT HOME. 295 
 
 soul between the two. The comfort is most 
 inviting, and they will acquiesce. The bustling 
 old usher in the main aisle has left one pew 
 empty a long while ; yet why need he ? It will 
 not be filled by its usual occupants ; therefore 
 fill it with strangers and ease the staring eyes 
 of many. 
 
 "Beloved, it is the last time." Oh, ye memories! 
 Ye grudges and piques that are human ! Ye 
 srnartings from rebukes and exhortations, rise up 
 and be revenged, now, in many souls. What, 
 no ? All forgotten ? What, ye confess the motive 
 good and kind ? That 's the power of a parting, 
 angel, and is the only sweet in the bitter. 
 
 Oh, ye memories ! The house of mourning 
 and the house of feasting ; pictures, with this old 
 pastor painted in the foreground always. He 
 kissed the bride ; he kissed your dead and wept 
 like you. But it is the last time. Oh, ye 
 memories! the secrets of the heart which this 
 man knows ; the tale of penitence told at mid- 
 night ; the rescue from temptation ; the cloak of 
 charity, with the whispered words of hope and 
 call to new resolves ; the family shame, the 
 family honor, and all the long list of brotherly, 
 not priestly, confidences, given because he was 
 worthy and had earned them, not by authority.
 
 296 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 It is a thread woven into the very texture of 
 the village life. The thread has been like a 
 heart-string, quivering with his own vital force ; 
 it has wasted him and made him old before his 
 time. But it is over now ; it is the last 
 time. 
 
 The tearing of such a thread out from a 
 thousand lives sorely hurts us, angel, in a part- 
 ing. You see, parts of the thread can never be 
 picked out ; it is impossible to disentangle all 
 its delicate coils ; one docs not realize how it is 
 knotted and clasped in about his very heart till 
 a rude hand pulls at it. Doubtless we shall 
 snap and snip the most of it away ; but some 
 poor fragments will throb and pain for years. 
 
 He leads them forth like a shepherd, from 
 pew to porch, from porch to grassy lawns that 
 undulate to the dusty highway, young and old 
 still clinging ; and lingering now about his 
 dwelling. A day to break one's heart ! 
 
 But the next day is harder. The sun is 
 shining just the same as on any Monday of a 
 ten years gone, the mills are humming, and the 
 sexton peaks the stained glass windows to let 
 out the dust, for he -is sweeping. Poor sexton, 
 what else shall do ? for he must earn his 
 bread.
 
 BURIED Iff A GREAT CITY. 297 
 
 XVI. 
 
 BURIED IN A GREAT CITY. 
 
 *t 1F)URIED in a great city!" exclaimed 
 -* ' Bella Havens, as she alighted from the 
 cars in the Boston and Lowell depot. 
 
 " Lost in a crowd ! " echoed her father, as he 
 leaned hard on the 'arms of his tw.o daughters, 
 the mother following. 
 
 " How many, many bright fellows have I 
 known," the clergyman continued, meditatively 
 bending forward on his cane in the cheap hack 
 for which they had at length bargained, " who 
 at last came here, and to other great cities, to 
 be buried, as Bella has well put it," and he 
 gnawed the head of his staff. 
 
 " That is, when worn out, you mean," said 
 Bella, who was quite down. 
 
 " Yes, living with some hard-worked son or 
 daughter's husband." he added, rubbing the mist 
 from the window with his glove. "Hundreds on 
 hundreds of all professions, no doubt, but espe- 
 cially of my profession. The world's ear was 
 aching with their fame yesterday, when, snap !
 
 298 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 the nerve broke. Then plunged into just such 
 silence and obscurity as these same mean 
 rents," pointing out, for they had now begun to 
 jolt over the miserable pavements of the out- 
 skirts of the city. 
 
 " But, papa," Mrs. Havens remarked sweetly, 
 laying her hand on his arm, " you do not regret ? 
 Our reward is not here ? " 
 
 The rising inflection told this story, very old 
 in the parsonage, that a minister must ever be 
 preaching, stout-hearted, to the inmates of his 
 own home. This one was ready to re-assert his 
 faith at once. As calm a smile as hers greeted 
 her, as he replied, "No regrets, Julia. It is all 
 well. I have peace like a river ! There is not 
 a richer man in this opulent city than I, if the 
 conscious possession of all I need constitutes 
 riches." 
 
 " Yet, in fact, dear papa," put in Nora, who 
 had hitherto kept her silence as she held the 
 slip of paper on which Paul had written the 
 street and number of the tenement which he 
 had hired for them, "in fact, we are, indeed, 
 very rich in such a stout friend as our glorious 
 Paul." 
 
 "And more glorious Stephen," added Bella, 
 with the slightest possible acid of misery and
 
 BURIED IN A GREAT CITY. 299 
 
 envy; envy, not of Steve and Africa, oh, no, very 
 evidently not that ; but envy of her sister's happi- 
 ness in a satisfying love. Indeed the high-spirited 
 girl had not been especially fitted for her lot in 
 life by college. She had simply been educated 
 out of " her station " ; no doubt of it. But that 
 is common enough to need no comment. As 
 for her religion, what she had of it, it simply 
 brought her to her knees, night and morning, 
 but otherwise tortured her. It was of the 
 head, not of the heart. Were it not for her 
 religious scruples, she would go upon the stage 
 to-morrow ! She would furnish her life as richly 
 as any of that bevy of actresses, members of a 
 traveling company, whom she saw alighting from 
 the Pullman car just behind their own. An 
 actress, and lift this dear family; as, if the 
 daily journals only could be believed, such and 
 such an actress has been able to do. 
 
 " Perhaps I may yet, if I do not get a school, 
 now that I am here in the city." Bella had 
 allowed the little flash of mental excitement to 
 command her tongue. 
 
 "May what, sister?" asked Nora, quickly, for 
 the sisters were confidantes. Many and many a 
 night had the gentle Nora lain, wakeful for ar- 
 gument and dissuasion, under the gabled chamber
 
 30O DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 ceiling, and Bella postured in the center of the 
 room, high-wrought and magnificent, answering by 
 superb renderings of Shakespeare. 
 
 "May get a good school, of course, you happy 
 heart," laughed Bella, yet she gave her sister's 
 hand a reproving squeeze under the lap-robe. 
 It said, " Do n't add my wicked secret to their 
 burden of mind!" for secret it was to the 
 clergyman and his wife. 
 
 It came suddenly back, and to stay, however, 
 this secret thought of many days. Bella 
 Havens found herself climbing out of this living 
 social grave, into which the family were swiftly 
 descending with every roll of the lumbering 
 carriage-wheels, climbing up again into the soft 
 sunlight of ease, comforts, and wealth, on the 
 visionary ladder of histrionic fame. 
 
 They say it is not strange that a minister's 
 son is a born public speaker. Why should not 
 the law of heredity assert itself in the daughters ? 
 But of course they may not preach. 
 
 " What a magnificent creature she is growing 
 to be!" thought Nora, as she sat, also silent. 
 "She has just the commanding personal pres- 
 ence, the superb health and physical courage, the 
 constantly-increasing beauty of features, strangely 
 increasing, too, of late, and like what our mother
 
 BURIED IN A GREAT CITY. 3OI 
 
 once was, no doubt. She has voice, grace, gen- 
 ius, and high intelligence ; and she could endure, 
 as an actress must, I am sure, such a slavery to 
 toil ! Oh, God ! why was not my sister called of 
 heaven to go to distant lands for thec ? To go 
 where she could live, and where I shall die ? " 
 
 "Here we touch bottom, papa, dear!" cried 
 Bella, as the vehicle halted. She descended first 
 to the walk. She put her two strong arms so 
 stoutly about the trembling man. She could not 
 resist the opportunity, as he bent forward, to 
 draw his dear white head close to her breast and 
 kiss him in a very rapture of compassion, love, 
 and secret hope. Her caressing tenderness and 
 her strangely cheerful tones took away the sting 
 of the complaint in her words. " All the rest 
 of the journey is upward, papa," she added, as 
 he got his feet to the earth also. 
 
 It is a low one story and a half cottage 
 house, of wood, decent and small, among scattered 
 scores of small, unpretentious dwellings, such 
 as fringe the outskirts of all great cities. Me- 
 chanics of uncertain wages and certain large 
 families of children, manual laborers, the employes 
 of the adjacent horse-car stables, are their 
 neighbors. It is better, far, than the six-story 
 tenement house in the city's heart. They will
 
 302 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 find these neighbors orderly people, after their 
 own notion of order. In the morning the head 
 hostler at the stables, a respectable colored man, 
 will come from the door opposite. From the 
 next door will issue a bank president of ten 
 years ago, who has incipient softening of the 
 brain, which brought on a hardening of his lot. 
 He can shop for poor groceries, however, while 
 his daughter runs the sewing machine and the 
 family. The physician of the neighborhood came 
 out here from Beacon Street. Rum did it. 
 Even now Beacon Street can not quite surrender 
 him ; hence his is the best house here. His 
 drug store is profitable because of the swamps, 
 which the tide uncovers all about here twice 
 each day. Friendly swamps, that defend the 
 colony from real estate speculators and open 
 the door of home to the weary. Home? Not 
 of earth, but beyond. Scribblers, widows, an 
 army of people whose weapon is the needle, 
 other broken-down clergymen, and widows of 
 missionaries ; a philanthropist on yonder corner, 
 to hear whom, defending " Liberty without color," 
 distant Music Hall once on a time stifled itself, 
 all packed with silk and satin, and wept through 
 its little lace handkerchiefs, listening to the foolish 
 man, till it wished it had been more sensible
 
 BURIED IN A GREAT CITY. 303 
 
 and brought real handkerchiefs that could save 
 gloves from spotting. A most interesting colony, 
 if one could only come to know his neighbor, 
 but very reticent people ; names, several of them, 
 in the newspapers, large type, twenty years ago. 
 
 Very reticent, very secret, shy people, as Nora 
 meets them at the corner grocery, where she 
 buys kindling wood at so much a pound, a few 
 minutes later. " By the pound ? Chips ? " 
 
 "Yes, you coundry gal. Chips is chips mit 
 cicly peobles ! " 
 
 Very select people, finely chiseled faces, fringed 
 with white whiskers, with airs of refinement, yet 
 so broken-spirited and shy, as Bella meets them 
 at the meat market on the other corner, 
 hesitating over the cut-out of the bone. 
 
 " More bone ; cut it off ! Do n't make me pay 
 for so much bone!" 
 
 But Bella is in haste. There must be a 
 prompt supper ; it is time. And, besides, there 
 is a great hope hastening her steps. It is not 
 intended to come many times to this shop. Ah, 
 thank God for the hope of youth ! 
 
 "She's a daisy!" 
 
 "Good evening, my loss." 
 
 Not so shy and reticent people, after all, on 
 the street beyond the light of the market gas-
 
 304 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 jets, when one has not yet come to the next 
 rare street-light, Miss Bella ! The young girl turns 
 herself with a rural cringing, felt in every fiber 
 of her frame, and a rural blush mantling to the 
 tips of the insulted ears. She turns to look 
 back of the two lounging vagabonds, and send 
 her voice where her eyes have failed, crying, 
 
 " Nora ! Nora ! " 
 
 From the other side of the street her sister 
 answers, however ; and quickly joining forces, as 
 it were, the two girls fly along the mired side- 
 walk with their bundles. 
 
 "We do well to learn quickly," gasped out 
 Nora, " that these are not the village paths." 
 
 "And yet," exclaims Bella, motioning her 
 sister in at the gate before her, and turning 
 like a lioness, " I imagine that we have to learn 
 to defend ourselves upon the street. The vulgar, 
 drunken creatures ! " There was, no doubt, in 
 that splendid form a vigor of defense, thanks 
 to the ozone of the hills, that would have 
 availed against the sodden muscles of the bar- 
 room-fed creatures, whom she had and will have 
 often to meet. Then, too, after a time the lady- 
 like attire of neatness may change to resem- 
 ble the cheap garb of servant girls; who by the 
 way, reader, may come and go with impunity,
 
 BURIED IN A GREAT CITY. 35 
 
 through midnight city-streets on their "Thurs- 
 days out." 
 
 " I think none but a clergyman's family could 
 set up housekeeping as quickly as this," said 
 Nora, as she excavated a few cooking utensils 
 and plates from the one trunk that had acccom- 
 panied them. 
 
 "A coal fire, papa. Have you, indeed, man 
 aged to kindle one ? " laughed Bella. 
 
 " Yes. It reminds me of college days," replied 
 he cheerily, poking at the stove. He half sat 
 on the edge of one chair, which some former 
 tenant had left standing in the center of the 
 bare floor. "We always burned coal at New 
 Haven, as long ago as when I was there." 
 
 Mrs. Havens, who had sat almost motionless 
 with fatigue in the other chair, since the family 
 moved in an hour ago, could not quite keep 
 back the tears. 
 
 "Dear mamma!" cried Bella, catching sight 
 of the very first tear, for which she had been 
 watching. With arms about the fond neck, she 
 said, "We ought to have gone to a hotel at first! 
 I 'm sure one of Paul's letters was lost. This 
 certainly is no 'furnished house.' But, mamma, 
 dear, do please smile. Within an hour the 
 other trunks must be here surely. Then to-
 
 306 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 morrow our own goods will arrive. Oh, we '11 
 change all this ! " 
 
 The gleam in her fine eyes as she straight- 
 ened to her feet before her mother, with fingers 
 interlaced and arms stretched down, with face 
 turned towards the staring, uncurtained windows, 
 out into the night ! It took a moment or two 
 for recovery, and recall from her desperate high 
 hopes back to the household duties. But she 
 went about the duties with the others helping, 
 very slowly. 
 
 Yet, two hours later, on the improvised bed 
 at her sleeping sister's side, and far into the 
 night, this girl was climbing out of the grave. 
 
 On the weary and sore morning, as the house- 
 hold goods were being marshaled into place, 
 she was still climbing her ladder. The cheerful- 
 ness which father and mother misinterpreted her 
 sister did not mistake, but wept over, in secret 
 little retreats to pray. Days of sultry June, so 
 terrible to these caged country birds, yet days 
 on days of exalted hope to Bella Havens at 
 least. 
 
 Nor was her resolution taken unintelligently, 
 so far as either conscience or work was con- 
 cerned. Is it right ? She thought she settled by 
 one constant gaze into the miserable home which
 
 BURIED IN A GREAT CITY. 37 
 
 sheltered her parents. Is it possible ? She decided 
 by such patient study of histrionic biography as 
 the great libraries afforded a resolute woman who 
 could read five or six languages as readily as 
 her native English ; and by the most discrimi- 
 nating scrutiny of herself. This narrative is not 
 pronouncing a judgment in casuistry: it is 
 simply recording facts concerning a country cler- 
 gyman's daughter, facts of which the author has 
 full possession. 
 
 Bella Havens was absent most of the daylight 
 hours, down in the city. No doubt she was 
 looking for work. That she was in the libraries 
 was not known at home ; why should it be ? 
 Why should they question one who had poured 
 in the school-mistress' earnings to the general 
 treasury, uncounted all ? 
 
 The family mind, moreover, was about as near 
 full these days, by three thoughts, as as it well 
 could be. Thought first: Our lonely, new life, 
 which may God make us able to endure thank- 
 fully. Thought second: The twenty-fifth day of 
 July, on which Nora is to marry Steve Crane 
 and take ship for Cape Town with the evening 
 tide. Thought third : Paul will return, will 
 graduate, will begin his work with us. When ? 
 There was little room for another thought,
 
 308 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 what will Bella do ? Especially, as the shrewd girl 
 did her best to keep it out of every body's 
 mind, and sought no sympathy. 
 
 One day as she was descending the steps of 
 the Public Library, Bella saw a lady stepping 
 down from her carriage at the block. 
 
 "Why, Bella Havens!" 
 
 " Good evening, Miss Norcross." 
 
 " Please say Puss," kissing her. 
 
 "You are certainly very kind." And, indeed, 
 she felt it, nor was there really any reason why 
 she should decline this wealthy lady's overtures. 
 She was conscious of purer blood in her bloom- 
 ing cheeks Puss looked white and winter-killed; 
 conscious of as fine a stature, rounded in sym- 
 metry Puss' arms were very thin, that early 
 summer's day ; conscious of power, and conscious 
 of attainments. We mention these things be- 
 cause, being painfully conscious of a marked dif- 
 ference in attire Puss was graceful and airy as 
 a summer cloud, in her afternoon dress, just 
 stepping from the home library to the public one 
 by the carriage, for a newly noticed book that 
 poor Bella had to number over these considera- 
 tions, in her own mind, to prop her halting 
 pride. 
 
 "We have absolutely lost sight of you all,"
 
 BURIED IN A GREAT CITY, 3OQ 
 
 Puss went on, still clinging to Bella's hand. "I 
 have so many, many questions to ask. Are you 
 here in town ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Your family? It is so pardon me. I have 
 written to Cousin Clara asking whither you had 
 removed, but she, poor child, did not know." 
 
 "We are all here, except my brother." But 
 Bella concluded not to admit an intimacy of 
 commiseration ; she would not say where nor 
 how the family were buried ; and she gave the 
 books a fresh lodge up her hip as she stepped 
 one side. 
 
 " Please share my carriage ! " exclaimed Puss, 
 turning promptly about. " I came out more for 
 the going somewhere than for books. I will take 
 you home. You know I greatly esteem your 
 brother, who was once our guest ; and papa is 
 the servant of all clergymen." 
 
 It was so genuinely kind. And the girl wore 
 such an unhappy face ; though she got a little 
 color over the mention of Paul. 
 
 " I will ride with you, Miss Norcross, as far 
 as your door. I go up Commonwealth Avenue." 
 
 Puss was a lady, reader ; no, a good, true 
 woman, is the better word. She saw it all at 
 a glance. She was not to run down this beau-
 
 3 l DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 tiful hare to find out its den. She gave the 
 order, and slowly, up the proud, deserted 
 thoroughfare, the horses ambled. 
 
 The two women chatted freely, but of com- 
 monplace things, for the most part. There 
 were no confidences, this time. Bella was more 
 at ease of the two, but perhaps that was merely 
 a matter of health. As they passed a certain 
 eligible corner, which we have seen before, 
 Bella called attention -to the workmen and the 
 fine site ; and as Puss, in the kindness of her 
 heart, evidently evaded the hint that her ques- 
 tioner had let drop, Paul's sister jumped to a 
 secret conclusion, "That is the spot. I had 
 already picked it out, as I have been walking 
 past it these weeks. That might have been the 
 boy's home. So it seems Clara is going on with 
 her building. I wonder who will share it with 
 her?" 
 
 " Papa tells me of your sister's approaching 
 marriage with his favorite young missionary, Mr. 
 Crane.". 
 
 " Yes ? " 
 
 " And we are all to go on to see him grad- 
 uate. Papa has something to do with the 
 college." 
 
 "'It is next week. I suppose none of us will
 
 BURIED IN A GREAT CITY, 3 11 
 
 go." Then determining to be kind she paid for 
 her ride on the spot by adding, " We expect 
 rny brother, every day, now. He has not been 
 very well. Florida is terrible at this time of 
 year. Yet he is a very strong man, you know." 
 
 How the gray eyes beamed! But it was a 
 very natural reply. " How much you grow to 
 resemble him ! Why, it seems almost possible to 
 remark it since last spring. It is as close a 
 counterfeit as a woman could ever be of a man ! " 
 The gray eyes seemed to delight themselves in 
 looking on this female Paul Havens. 
 
 To turn away the eager glances, if for no 
 other reason, the other responded. "Do the 
 that is, I mean Clara. Is she to meet you at 
 Amherst ? " 
 
 " I really do not know about coz. I did not 
 accompany them to Washington. They are quite 
 gay, considering the season, I believe. Uncle 
 Lem is what do the gentlemen call it? lob- 
 bying ? Aunt and Clara have entertained consid- 
 erably, I believe, to help him. They have Sen- 
 ator Takeit's house, the senator's wife being an 
 invalid .and removed to the quiet of the Arling- 
 ton. We are to be together at Saratoga, in 
 August, I think. I 'm expecting a letter from 
 the poor little heart every day. Here we are at
 
 312 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 our door. Now, do please come in. Ah, 
 Andrew ? " 
 
 The young man was just driving to the curb 
 in his single buggy, in from a spin on the Mill 
 Dam. Throwing the lines to his groom, he came 
 forward to answer his sister's call, when sud- 
 denly he caught sight of a face at her side. 
 Honest, dull, money-worshiper as he was, and with 
 the fear of his uncle constantly before his eyes, 
 yet the young man was human enough. That 
 face, which had once moved him even to the 
 point of ignoring the penniless condition of its 
 owner considering that her brother was "booked 
 for partnership" that face, sublimely beautiful 
 and glowing with high resolves, changed from 
 comely to something mastering ! His hat was 
 off in an instant to this princess in country 
 cottons. His whip got under his foot, and he 
 sprawled a trifle, though he kicked the whip 
 into the gutter and came up all right. 
 
 " Allow me," and he helped the two ladies to 
 the block and the walk. "I I was sure I 
 saw you on the avenue, a week ago, Miss Ha- 
 vens." 
 
 " Indeed ? " The eyebrows arched at him. She 
 kept her mastery of the situation, however, 
 though she gave him her hand again for the
 
 BURIED IN A GREAT CITY. 313 
 
 slightest courtesy's sake, and then turned to give 
 it into a longer grasp of Miss Norcross' as she 
 said, 
 
 " No, pray excuse me. I can not come in. I 
 must get home before dark." Then the books 
 on the hip and arm about them. She was on 
 the point of pursuing her walk. 
 
 " But really, Miss Havens," Andrew began 
 blunderingly, for he at least was painfully conscious 
 of his abrupt departure, weeks ago, from the dis- 
 tant parsonage-home and Crosston, "you will 
 allow us to to call. Where " 
 
 " My dear girl," Puss cut him off with, in her 
 delicate kindness, "we will not press you to- 
 night ; but another day, we shall not take no 
 for an answer. Please, now, you will comply 
 another day ? Good-night." 
 
 There was something in Puss' deep gaze that 
 said, " I will not probe your secret ; it is some- 
 thing daring. You are trying to do some great 
 thing ; you will need a friend ; you will let me 
 be your friend." 
 
 At any rate that is what Bella Havens thought 
 she read in those eyes, and she will think so 
 for many a day, till sometime she ventures to 
 prove if she read aright. It is not best to strike 
 down a hand outstretched in kindness. No one
 
 314 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 is brave enough to live quite alone. Hence she 
 answers sincerely, 
 
 "Thank you, indeed; I certainly would like to 
 know you better. Good night. Good night, Mr. 
 Norcross." 
 
 As she moves off up the avenue, she soon 
 forgets to wish that she had eyes in her back, 
 for she is absorbed with her day's reading about 
 her art. But he wishes that he had had eyes 
 in his face weeks ago, to see her as she is. 
 He does the next best thing, follows his sister 
 indoors, of course, but, thereafter, promptly across 
 the hall to the library window, which commanded 
 the broad thoroughfare southward for a long dis- 
 tance. 
 
 "You are too late, my dear boy, as usual," 
 said Puss, observing him with that sisterly ami- 
 ability which is often singularly sinister. 
 
 " Thank you, Puss." He slowly fingered his 
 mustache as he gazed. "Wouldn't she be some- 
 thing magnificent, if dressed ! " Why should he 
 not dress her ? Was he not rich enough ? Cer- 
 tainly ; that 's not the point. To the dogs with 
 Uncle Lem and his piques ! 
 
 "I tell you, you are too dull and too late, 
 brother of mine," fanning tantalizingly. 
 
 " How so, sis ? What is she doing here ? "
 
 BURIED IN A GREAT CITY. 
 
 "How should I know?" 
 
 " You do know, now ; come ? " 
 
 " I certainly wish I did, bub, but I do n't. Is 
 she out of sight yet ? " 
 
 After looking long through the soft, falling 
 twilight of June, that enfolded and blended the 
 evening promenaders, he added, 
 
 "Out of sight; buried." 
 
 The brother smoked; the sister fanned.
 
 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 LONG BRANCH. 
 
 T T 7HAT ? Congress has adjourned, before we 
 * * reach the capitol ? Here, you may read 
 for yourself in the morning papers ! If we had 
 only been less absorbed in those Boston people, 
 for the last few days, we should have doubt- 
 less seen premonitions of the flight of the 
 eagles and sparrows, doves and vultures. The 
 weather has been growing insufferably hot, did 
 we but know it. Now seaside and mountains, 
 springs and prairies, for the noble statesman of 
 Washington. 
 
 Nevertheless, this history was perfectly sincere 
 in its promise to take you on to the pure and 
 holy capitol of this land of equality. Since we 
 can not do that and keep track of the individu- 
 als, a slice of whose earthly life we are trying 
 to cut off for your amusement and possible in- 
 struction, no story is more than a slice off the 
 loaf of a few lives, we must try to find them 
 where they are to be found. At Long Branch, 
 it happens, for Coney Island is not yet.
 
 LONG BRANCH. 3 1 / 
 
 On the veranda of the Hon. Magnus Nevada's 
 cottage sits he, with his guests, namely : the 
 Hon. S. L. Y. Takeit, senator, and plain Lem- 
 uel Norcross, whom we know. It is the calm of 
 Sabbath afternoon. The morning was spent in 
 church, in a most Christian manner. It is a 
 pretty little church, a sort of republican court 
 affair, which has this pleasant feature : it is so 
 small that the reporters for the great New York 
 journals have no difficulty in seeing all the pious 
 senators and devout contractors who, with very 
 many other excellent people, bow their heads there. 
 Furthermore, the music is fine, and is liable to 
 be finer if the court does not fly to some other 
 resort for, no doubt, a regimental band will 
 erelong be placed at the disposal of the congre- 
 gation ; or, failing that, the orchestral performers 
 from the hotels, if the hops do not detain them 
 too late on Saturday nights. There is, as yet, 
 no dream of Coney Island, with its brilliant and 
 spiritual Sabbath worship, so very convenient, in 
 the vast hotels. 
 
 At the farther end of the veranda sit a com- 
 pany of ladies and younger gentlemen. These are 
 wives, daughters and sons of the three gentlemen 
 whom we pointed out just above. These are the 
 Scatterers. The three are the Gatherers. Does
 
 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 it take so many ladies and young men to scat- 
 ter all that the three can gather? Indeed, yes, 
 for the Gatherers have combed up millions. 
 Notice Mrs. Norcross, Mrs. Nevada, Mrs. Takeit, 
 and the young misses and sirs of these names, 
 with a neighbor or two, not quite too numerous, 
 but not worth our while to mention. Note Clara 
 Norcross and Mr. Nevada, Jr., who are interest- 
 ing to us, as, on casual observation, you might 
 judge they were to each other. 
 
 Now, then, at the other end of the veranda. 
 It being after dinner, and one cigar being his 
 physician's allowance of late, the Hon. S. L. Y. 
 Takeit has dropped off, as his cigar ashes scat- 
 tered on his broad-cloth testify, into soothing 
 forgetful ness of all earthly cares. That fact leaves 
 the other two Gatherers free to lay their heads 
 together and mingle fresh smoke. For that mat- 
 ter, it would hardly have seemed offensive had 
 it been openly suggested to Takeit that "he 
 might go to sleep if he wished, as they wished 
 to talk," and he would have trustfully clone so, 
 with his fat, soft palm fallen significantly open 
 in his lap, after the Takeit fashion for genera- 
 tions, the great and good man ! 
 
 " Well, Norcross, you ought to be happy with the 
 way we've fixed the tariff for you." This Nevada.
 
 LONG BRANCH. 3 ! 9 
 
 " Yes, it tides me over this time. But that 
 domestic affair now recurs to distress me. The 
 dear girl's heart is set, old friend. And you, a 
 Yankee born yourself, and Yank yet, though you 
 are a western silver king now, you know how 
 a Yankee girl hangs on to a love, as any other 
 idea she strikes!" Norcross brushes ashes off 
 his business-garb ; he never changes to Sunday 
 clothes. 
 
 " Then you despair of my young man's suit ? " 
 replied Nevada, with a hard little laugh, meant 
 both to hide his own pique and to apologize for 
 indulging in the love intrigues of young people, 
 this man of vast affairs. And yet there was 
 a side to the question, not even beneath his 
 dignity. " It would bunch up a splendid for- 
 tune for the young simpletons, yours joined 
 to mine." 
 
 "Mine!" with an unwordable inflection of 
 doubt and irony. " S 'pose they lift the tariff 
 next year ? " 
 
 " Why, Lem, what ails you ? Ain't my loan 
 big 'nuf ? " The huge fellow " never went back 
 on a friend." " Confound 'em, takin' off the 
 tariff ! I 'd like to see 'em try it where a 
 friend o' mine's concerned ! " Here he excitedly 
 threw away the cigar and filled up with a tre-
 
 320 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 mendous quid of fine-cut. You might have no- 
 ticed how near a ton the box must have weighed, 
 solid silver, with a diamond in its center "to light 
 it up," as they had suggested at Tiffany's ; his 
 wife agreed that it needed "lighting up," and 
 so ordered a "few diamonds sprinkled on." 
 
 " That 's all right. I shall swing it somehow," 
 compressing those iron lips. "As the minister 
 said to-day, all things work together for good " 
 
 "Now, old friend, " and Nevada's smile was 
 full of pity as he put his hand on Norcross' 
 knee. "That's the only streak in you that gives 
 me uneasiness. I tell ye, ye can't do it. Be 
 a man and done with it, or be a pious canter 
 like your brother Bill and done with it. This 
 feller, Havens, why, get him a chance on some 
 foreign squadron for a three years' cruise. I 
 can fix that with the President. The boy '11 
 see lots o' pretty faces in that time. And 
 't would be doin' him a good turn." 
 
 "But he is only in the service temporarily. 
 He 's going to be a minister." 
 
 With a droll surprise, Nevada turned square 
 round. "A clergyman, eh?" And then taking 
 some time to digest it," " She 's that sort of 
 a young lady, eh?" which was evidently the 
 most serious aspect of the case.
 
 LONG BRANCH. 32 1 
 
 "Why, no," Mr. Norcross hastened to put in. 
 "You can't tell much 'bout a young -girl's real 
 bent of character by that." 
 
 "No, I s'pose not," resumed Mr. Nevada, 
 after pondering some time in silence. " I con- 
 fess, to you, Lem, that girls and clergymen 
 ain't very plain to me. But," suddenly lighting 
 up with resolution, " though I 'm no churchman, 
 yet, in politics, now, there 's influence. S'pose 
 you give a thousand dollars or two to some 
 church debt, or to endow some school. Would n't 
 that give you influence to prevent the boy's 
 bein' settled hereabouts ? " He dropped his 
 chair to all fours, and grasped Norcross' knee. 
 In a moment more, " Why, see here, old 
 feller ! We want ministers out 'n the mines. I '11 
 I '11 build him a church out there, and settle 
 him on the frontier. Capital ! Why, man, influ- 
 ence will do any thing, hey?" And he shook 
 the Norcross knee, as he shook his sides laughing. 
 
 " Oh, of course, I understand all that. I 've 
 fixed him now, already, so far as our state is 
 concerned. But my daughter herself, now ? " 
 
 "Yes, the princess herself," echoed Nevada, 
 less confidently, and tipping back his chair again. 
 "Well, I don't know 'bout women. But you're 
 sure you yourself fancy my Joe ? "
 
 322 DOLLARS AND DUTY, 
 
 " He 's all business, and suits to a dot ! " was 
 the quick reply. 
 
 " Yes," resumed the proud father, now with 
 free tongue again. " Likes money just as well as 
 if he had n't a cent. Never drinks ; college 
 educated ; traveled in Europe, where he was all 
 business, even on a pleasure trip; fine lookin'. 
 There ain't many boys like my Joe, old friend! 
 if I do say it. Joseph's one ambition in life is 
 to make lots of money. Whew ! What a pile 
 he '11 have, with what I leave him, if he keeps 
 on ! Any girl might be well proud of catchin' 
 Joe Nevada ! " With ' that he was so heavenly 
 minded, that taking aim by a diamond on his 
 little finger, which he first raised and sighted 
 over in the flashing, summer sun he fired, I 
 do believe, at the whole Atlantic, sleeping yon- 
 der, though he hit a bridal rose on the lawn 
 and discolored it. Then he added, "The only 
 p'int with Joe is, he dislikes the West. Want's to 
 figger in an Eastern city. That 's the blamed r'sult 
 of his Harvard. Likes Boston. So I 'm helpin" 
 him on, Lem. You are my old friend, and " 
 
 "Oh, I understand. We must put it through 
 somehow ; that 's all. Only, I Ve always in- 
 dulged Clara so much, till lately, and she is so 
 mighty lovely and sweet when I attempt to put
 
 LONG BRANCH. 3 2 3 
 
 on the screws, that it comes tremendous hard 
 for me." 
 
 " I s'pose," was Nevada's final remark to 
 close the subject. "But leave 'em together, 
 man, leave 'em together." Then suddenly looking 
 across the lawns, "Ah!" His broad face lighted 
 up with a glow. "There comes the President, 
 told me he 'd be over for a walk. Wake up, 
 Takeit, and let 's go down on the beach." He 
 arose, yawning and stretching, thrusting out his 
 fists from the shoulders. Few cares could sit 
 long on his broad breast. 
 
 Takeit was roused and accompanied them. 
 The President seemed so happy, and felt so 
 secure as they shortly walked four abreast. The 
 President was in good hands. Great and good 
 men were supporting him ; one with Western 
 millions, one with Eastern millions, as it was 
 supposed, and one to whom the location of 
 the millions was of no account, so long as 
 there were millions. Happy President of a great 
 Christian country, whose " bone and sinew," the 
 millions of the common people, commit him to 
 God's care, night and morn, in the same prayer 
 that asks a blessing on their babes. 
 
 Joe Nevada, half sitting at perfect ease upon 
 the veranda railing, confronting Clara Norcross,
 
 324 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 who, if you observed, never looked sweeter than 
 this moment, all in white and airy elegance. 
 Joe is tall, is of splendid physique, is perfectly 
 dressed, and not aware of it ; is dark-eyed, clean- 
 shaved, strong-featured, and altogether the calm, 
 self-possessed man of the world. 
 
 " He is as fine-looking as Paul Havens," 
 thought Clara. " He is as intelligent, as gentle- 
 manly. The features are not unlike, a striking 
 resemblance which grows upon me, only this 
 is Paul Havens with a different soul. To be 
 sure, his face brightens to me, because, no doubt, 
 he thinks he has an interest in me. But 
 when I see him turning away, as this moment, 
 to watch his shrewd father, arm in arm with the 
 President of the country for instance, how cold 
 and business-like is his face ! " 
 
 Fanning, gazing past him over the southward- 
 stretching ocean, following dreamily the ribbon of 
 smoke that lay against the sky above some 
 passing steamer northward bound, and wondering 
 who might be walking the deck, for it is nearly 
 Commencement Day, planning how she might 
 beguile her father to hasten on to Boston, the 
 old, hopeless problem of many days now ; but 
 Boston is not Amherst, and "to-morrow," so 
 Puss' letter said, "we go up there." Ah, Puss,
 
 LONG BRANCH. 3 2 5 
 
 what a sorrow you are laying up for yourself ! 
 Or, perhaps, you are too able a woman for poor 
 me to cope with. 
 
 Thinking on these themes, you may judge 
 how slow the conversation was. Joe Nevada was 
 forced to help it along almost violently over 
 many a pause. Pitying him suddenly, she stopped 
 fanning, and said, 
 
 "I fear from your last remark, Mr. Nevada, 
 that you do not esteem artists as very useful 
 members of society." 
 
 "On the contrary, Miss Norcross, I gave Dor6 
 an order for a single design that cost us 
 father and me a thousand dollars. He was 
 very grateful at once, and most deferential." 
 
 " Wonderful Dore ! Do you know," she con- 
 tinued, with a little flash of genuine interest, 
 " I could never yet bring myself to even look 
 through his Dante ? " 
 
 " It is indeed sublimely terrible. Yet, I must 
 confess to greatly enjoying it. I saw his original 
 sketches." 
 
 " How could a man," with a woman's emphasis 
 on the could, "ever bring himself to sweet sleep 
 after entertaining such pictures in his creative 
 dreams ?" 
 
 He laughed coldly, and responded, "Ah, poor
 
 326 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 Dore, killing himself ! But he makes money ; for 
 money, you know, a man can endure almost 
 well, that INFERNO now ; I suppose he received 
 for that " 
 
 " Pray do n't tell me ! " exclaimed Clara ; " for 
 if I knew, it might make the study of the vol- 
 ume possible for me. You know you could 
 manage to keep thinking about the vulgar wages, 
 and so be betrayed into getting the pictures 
 into your mind, to haunt your dreams." 
 
 Joe Nevada's frank features made no disguise 
 possible, and he cared for none. There was 
 something almost engaging in the way he con- 
 fessed part of his thought. 
 
 " Vulgar wages, you child of luxury ! But 
 then, we men expect that of women. Indeed, 
 it 's pretty. By the way, you are about building 
 a town residence of some magnificence, we all 
 hear; please do tell me about it." 
 
 "Yes; but tell me: You had fine introductions 
 abroad." She was determined not to have any 
 confidences. 
 
 " I did ; the very best," he answered, yielding 
 good-naturedly ; " commissions. No letters are to 
 be compared with orders for work, you know." 
 
 " I do n't like to think of these famous people 
 in that light," almost pouting. "Think of our
 
 LONG BRANCH 3 2 7 
 
 own Powers, Bonheur, and " She was going 
 on to mention many names famous in art and 
 song, thinking he might really interest her ; but 
 the half-quizzing, half- pitying cast of his features 
 made her indignant, for the thousandth time, 
 you may know, in the last month, and her 
 eyes left him, flashing once, and then bending 
 dreamily on the sea. 
 
 "Pardon me, Miss Norcross," he made haste 
 to say, getting off the railing and into line of 
 her gaze, by sitting on the steps at her very 
 feet ; " but really, now, I appreciate all your 
 enthusiasm. I, too, have built all the shrines 
 that any school-boy ever did, and afterwards had 
 devotion enough to go visit my shrines all over 
 the world except, of course, religious, holy 
 places. I speak of no names, but I tell you the 
 hard truth : I have yet to see the genius who 
 did n't want a little silver ! I have yet to see 
 the great man who had nothing to sell. Pro- 
 vided he is gentlemanly in address, the rich 
 man's card is always honored first in any ante- 
 room of statesman, literateur, scientist, songstress, 
 painter, sculptor, or philanthropist, of this funny 
 world. Really, now, I know and am sorry, for 
 your sake, if it pains you, that I know it. 
 Now, do not look down so scornfully on poor,
 
 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 unlucky me ! It is these people themselves who 
 are to blame for the the mercenary manners 
 which I 'm not the first idol-worshiper to be 
 disenchanted by, I 'm sure. Why, who brought 
 Jenny Lind to this country ? A showman ! " 
 
 "I'll never forgive you for that speech!" The 
 tiny shoe patted the sounding piazza. 
 
 " Yes, you will," he replied quickly, and flush- 
 ing a little. " It is an honest speech ; at least, 
 Miss Norcross, you respect frankness, now ob- 
 serve," and he spread out his fingers on one 
 hand, while with the tip of his plain walking- 
 stick he commercially counted off the reasons 
 why she would pardon him. " Look at all the 
 fellows that you can see this instant, over my 
 shoulder, rolling by in drags and with tandems. 
 I know these men about town, every one. 
 There 's Billy Kates, I presume, in sight : he 
 tells me of his dogs. There 's Sam Dowkie ; he 
 spends his money for horses and coaches. Per- 
 haps you can see but I'll not name the men 
 who bet, who control clubs, who run cattle farms 
 for thousands a year. Now, please do not forbid 
 me to justify myself in your eyes. I really would 
 like to use money quite differently ; to patronize 
 genius, for instance ; to be able to almost command 
 a great painter; to hold up the finger, and a fa-
 
 LONG BRANCH. 3 2 9 
 
 mous writer would run to see what you wanted, 
 or a college professor, or a senator, or a presi- 
 dent, would respond, ' My patron, I love you ! ' 
 Is n't that a refined ambition ? " He pressed the 
 cane hilt firmly against his clean lips, and gazed, 
 straight as an arrow, up into her eyes. Never 
 before had he spoken as much concerning him- 
 self, nor seemed in such earnest. 
 
 Clara could not disregard those serious eyes ; 
 no, though the flashing sea flashed brighter than 
 it had all day, in the freshening breeze, and its 
 whispers now were hoarser, telling wind-borne tales 
 of the South. She said, with a little sigh, ' Yes. 
 That 's preferable to some ways of spending such 
 vast revenues as yours." 
 
 "You approve, then?" It came quick as light- 
 ning. He bent suddenly forward, laying his hand 
 on the floor at her very feet. 
 
 "What, sir?" startled, and attempting to fan again. 
 
 " Miss Norcross Clara, you can not need an 
 explanation, after these weeks that we have passed 
 in each other's society." 
 
 She was standing, instantly ; her pretty face 
 aglow, as she arched her neck to discover that 
 they were alone ; the rest of the party were just 
 disappearing behind the ivy-fluted pillars at her back. 
 
 "We are quite by ours.elves, most gracious
 
 33 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 lady," he said. " Forgive me that I watched for 
 my chance. And now ? " 
 
 He attempted to seize her hand. But she 
 employed one in brushing back the rich Grecian 
 bands of her hair which the sea-winds troubled, 
 and the other with her skirts, in that pluming- 
 for-flight sort of movement. Her natural color 
 was now paling and returning with incomparable 
 beauty before his eyes. But her lips seemed to 
 manage nothing. Not one of the conclusive little 
 speeches that she had arranged and rearranged 
 many times in preparation was available. Which 
 was not strange, the innocent ! 
 
 " I beg you not to go," he exclaimed, all fer- 
 vor and fear, you would have said. " Though, 
 should you be so cruel, I will stand out of the 
 way of your flight," suiting the action to the 
 word. " Yet, listen to the suit of one who has, 
 at least, laid at your feet not only the fortunes 
 of a gentleman I trust I have shown myself 
 such but, I may add, the heart of an honest 
 man. At least, an honest man, Miss Norcross ; 
 I disguise nothing; hear me. If I can not prattle 
 of love like some simple swain, I can, at least, 
 serve you as if you were a queen. I can make 
 your home the most brilliant social center in all 
 this republican land. You shall have your own
 
 LONG BRANCH. 33 l 
 
 way, as no woman in America ever yet had. 
 All the kindness that many men waste on their 
 fellow-men and small thanks for it! I will re- 
 serve for you, and you alone. I will be selfish 
 towards the whole world, that I may be unselfish 
 towards you. I will carefully keep every gentle, 
 loving impulse of my nature and every man is 
 born with some such store, I venture to hope 
 keep it with strict economy, from every living hu- 
 man being, that I may give all to you, my wife ! " 
 
 All the woman in her came to the rescue and 
 defense of this young girl now. Her second 
 thought was not of flight ; she knew how free 
 she was ; her second thought was of the real 
 Paul Havens, of whom this was the counterfeit ; 
 the real Paul, who, for the love he bore all men, 
 had seemed to put her aside. 
 
 And the woman in her chose even the mem- 
 ory of that unselfish love, as she once knew it 
 and hoped it yet was, before this selfish one. 
 Would you ? She said, 
 
 " Mr. Nevada, it may not be becoming in a 
 young lady to stand in seeming consultation over 
 such a theme Then she wondered at herself, 
 that she had been able to command so dignified 
 a sentence, and promptly dropped it, fairly ex- 
 claiming in maidenly fervor,
 
 33 2 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 "Do you dream, sir, that love can be stored 
 up like like honey?" A bee was buzzing at 
 the ivy before her eyes and helped her. 
 
 " Why not ? It is a world whose first law is 
 economy. I '11 love and live only for you ! 
 Though I confess, you superb woman, that I 
 never before felt how little that was to offer ! " 
 
 The shadowy shape of Paul Havens was so 
 clear, like a spectre, just at this man's back, 
 that she almost exclaimed his name. Her red 
 lips parted ; her eyes dilated ; she was hardly re- 
 sponsible for what she said, as in reply she 
 murmured, 
 
 " And do you think that women that I 
 care to be loved in that way ? " 
 
 "Are there many women who are content to take 
 a second place in any man's heart, Miss Norcross?" 
 
 "No not a second place, sir. That is not 
 second to any one human rival." She stopped 
 suddenly, however, for she felt unequal to the at- 
 tempt of the pretty lecture that was in her 
 mind. He seemed so strong for argument. 
 
 " You mean philanthropy," he said, utterly dis- 
 guising all cynicism, if indeed, he felt any in his 
 present mood. 
 
 " Yes. One ought to love his fellow-man, Mr. 
 Nevada."
 
 LONG BRANCH. 333 
 
 " My dear girl, you shall build a hospital ! 
 You shall have an asylum-day twice a week. 
 Really, now, do not smile my serious intent 
 away. You shall live to be the whole world's 
 good angel." 
 
 " But you, sir ? " 
 
 He sprung at the hope she had not intended 
 to proffer. " I ? Never mind about me. I '11 be 
 the respectable and faithful Judas who carries 
 the bag ! " He would have broken into a hearty 
 laugh, but that he was not yet sure of her. 
 
 No, indeed ; not yet sure of her. She promptly 
 recognized her blunder, and sobered him with, 
 " Why, Mr. Nevada, you and I have scarce any 
 thing in common with respect to that One whom 
 Judas betrayed, and his religion ! " 
 
 " Clara Norcross, I should always respect your 
 religion because it was yours!" 
 
 " Such devotion almost makes me shudder, sir ! " 
 
 " I fail to see why, my good angel." 
 
 " Because, Mr. Nevada. That is, does it cost 
 you much to patronize what you hold in so light 
 esteem, that you never think it worth your while 
 to assail it?" 
 
 He was at a stand-still. Her penetration was 
 more than he had given her credit for. Of 
 course she was right. This brilliant man of the
 
 334 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 world had never taken the trouble to argue the 
 point, even, as to whether "these old myths and 
 fables " were true or false. To patronize her 
 faith, then, would seem to her like indulging a 
 woman's fancy for diamonds and -laces. But he 
 was honest ; he tapped the floor with his stick, 
 and out with, 
 
 " You are right, Miss Norcross. For better or 
 worse, I 've shown you my heart, and yet " 
 
 " One can but respect your frankness, Mr. Ne- 
 vada," she added, to encourage him to finish. 
 
 " Perhaps one whom I love might teach me," 
 looking up brightly. 
 
 " I am glad you said that, sir. I shall always 
 pray that you may find the truth. But, Mr. 
 Nevada, marriage for convenience is bad enough. 
 A marriage for conversion nearly always fails. 
 Especially with you it would; so strong a nature, 
 you, and I so weak ! " 
 
 " You bright woman, you make me admire you 
 all the more ! " 
 
 " But it should be love between us, not ad- 
 miration." 
 
 " Yes, believe me. Loved before all the 
 world ! " 
 
 "I I must not stay to converse longer upon 
 this subject, Mr. Nevada."
 
 LONG BRANCH. 335 
 
 " No, certainly not, if you wish to go. But 
 I have one more word to speak." He now in 
 turn hesitated, and glanced out towards the beach, 
 where the four forms of the President and those 
 good men, his supporters, could be dimly descried. 
 Four forms of power ; yet so small and fly-like 
 that, if the sea would, the sea could have licked 
 them up with one lap of its foam-flecked tongue, 
 so it seemed, and the world would have gone 
 on just the same, though our story would have 
 gone on differently from this point, had the sea 
 so behaved to the land's lords. 
 
 " I am waiting to hear what you have to say, 
 Mr. Nevada," said Clara, kindly enough. She 
 made him think of an albatross, majestic, color- 
 less now, with crest uplifted and white fluffy 
 wing, like robes gathered for passage ; and, as 
 he had more than once caught her seaward 
 glances, he supposed her purpose to be to claim 
 the protection of her father's society. 
 
 " It is this, Miss Norcross : when you meet 
 your father and hear what he has to say, re- 
 member, on the honor of a gentleman, you may 
 take it,- I disclaim all possible participation in 
 any schemes of his which may compromise a 
 lady's liberty." 
 
 The albatross had spread her wings.
 
 336 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 As for Nevada, of course, he could not stand 
 there, looking after her, with every body passing 
 and wondering why mortal man should suffer 
 such beauty to tiptoe its undefended way across 
 the thronged drive. He entered the smoking- 
 room, therefore, and studied her from behind the 
 blinds. The identical act and simultaneous, if you 
 please, as this historian has since taken pains 
 to ascertain, that was employing Andrew Nor- 
 cross, you may remember. Joe Nevada, lighting 
 his cigar, said, " Poor Norcross ! He must 
 dig out of his troubles as best he can. I can 't 
 intrigue against that glorious girl's happiness. 
 But I must never suffer myself to meet her 
 again." And he sat down to study the Saturday 
 evening's stock quotations with a view of business, 
 his care-all, on the morrow. 
 
 Clara paused on the sands a rod or two from 
 the group of great and good men, telegraphing 
 by little urgent signs to her father. 
 
 Mr. Norcross excused himself, and advanced 
 to meet her, and was uncertain of himself at 
 once. She was so radiant, so white, so breath- 
 less, so child-like in her distress, and then, too, 
 all alone ! 
 
 "What is it, pet?" 
 
 " I want to go straight away from here at
 
 LONG BRANCH. 337 
 
 once, papa ! " Her cheeks were in one of their 
 pearl-white moments. 
 
 "Well, well," and he forced a smile. "It is 
 the Sabbath, and it is against your principles to 
 travel on Sunday. What 's up ? " 
 
 She told him, all in two breaths. 
 
 But when she searched his face for signs of 
 surprise, or kindling alliance with his spoiled 
 child, she saw no such signs. With that she 
 promptly read his secret. He knew all, then, and 
 had planned all, just as his hot menace, uttered 
 at Crosston, should have forewarned her. 
 
 It is not necessary to describe their attitude : 
 they did not stir from their tracks in the sand. 
 It was a grapple of desperation. 
 
 He said : " Clara, this displeases me, gravely." 
 
 She said : " Why, papa, am I not free to say 
 at least what I will not do with myself?" 
 
 "No, child. You I we are bound hand 
 and foot!" 
 
 "Is it financial needs of yours?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Then let us prepare, at once, to dig a living 
 out of. mother's little New Hampshire farm! or 
 beg, even. No, not beg. We could yet live, if 
 you had lost all. You have indeed lost all, if 
 you depend on the Nevadas, for this young gen-
 
 33$ DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 tleman's last word to me must have meant that. 
 He repudiates unmanly designs to enforce the 
 alliance ! " 
 
 " What ! " 
 
 "Hush!" She cried out piteously. "Don't 
 tell every body. Do you think people are watch- 
 ing us ? " Then she repeated to the unhappy 
 man Joe Nevada's parting words. 
 
 The iron color changed to sickly copper hues 
 in Lemuel Norcross' face. The resolute, un- 
 daunted look, habitual, worn a life-time, melted 
 like wax under sunbeams. He caught at the 
 round shoulder of his daughter, and, supporting 
 himself for a moment thus, left the marks of 
 his desperate grief with tracery of lace on the 
 ivory arm. 
 
 But the next moment came color enough. 
 Scarlet, red, deeper red, purple ! His counte- 
 nance was alarming such a surge of blood to 
 the brain. Hoarsely he ground out the words at 
 length : 
 
 " Girl ! oh, my child ! You spoiler of plans ! 
 Curses on the day we ever saw that minister's 
 family in our village ! Here ! Read it for your- 
 self." And he pulled a crumpled telegraph dis- 
 patch, with official mark upon it, from his 
 pocket. " I had intended to let your mother give
 
 LONG BRANCH. 339 
 
 you this and break the news in a pleasant, com- 
 mon-sense way. But take it ! " 
 
 Clara held the dispatch in her hand, and, read- 
 ing the superscription, declined to open it with, 
 "This is addressed to the President. Why should 
 I concern myself with it ? Here," proffering it 
 in return. 
 
 "Read it!" her father again commanded. "It 
 is unsealed." 
 
 She has read it. 
 
 " God forgive me ! I wish you had n't ! " Poor 
 Norcross. 
 
 But she has read it again. Again ! She tears 
 it in two, as her clenched hands are thrust 
 down and her rigid features are turned staring 
 towards the sea. 
 
 " Turn to me, child ! " 
 
 But now in the sand where she has sunk 
 down, and as her fingers strip the paper to tat- 
 ters, she is saying, " Dead ? Paul Havens dead ? 
 It can not be, and the sun so brightly shining ! 
 Oh, it was the hot sun, the fever, the ever- 
 glades ! Papa ? " looking up all pleadingly now, 
 with every spark of defiance quenched from the 
 tender, wonderful eyes. " Papa ? " looking up to 
 break a man's heart, her fingers busy with their 
 destruction. " Papa, you do not believe it, do
 
 34 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 you ? " And as the man threw himself kneeling 
 at her side and drew her head to his bosom in 
 an alarm of dismay and repentance, she went on : 
 " What did it say, papa ? The expedition all 
 down with the fever, and Lieutenant Havens 
 dead ? Paul is not a lieutenant, papa ! " She 
 caught at that, and a flash of hope illumined the 
 pitiful face, a gleam more heart-breaking than the 
 cloud that it displaced. 
 
 ".They call him lieutenant, child, while in the 
 service, you know." But then, the male blun- 
 derer, instantly he added, "It may all be a mis- 
 take." Kissing her, kissing her hands and her 
 cheeks. "Try to forget it. Come. Let's go to 
 mother. Yes, there must be some mistake. You 
 see, the President didn't attach much importance 
 to it " 
 
 "But would he attach much importance to any 
 thing, papa? Any thing so small as one little 
 steamer full of human beings whom he never 
 saw, I mean ? " Thus she argued against her own 
 hope, after the old and dreadful manner of all 
 the heartbroken. 
 
 The President, sitting on the breezy bench, 
 legs crossed, holding peripatetic court of great 
 and good men, who stand around him puffing 
 incense ! The laughter that bursts out now and
 
 LONG BRANCH. 341 
 
 then and is borne down to this agonized pair ! 
 The President's secretary, reading out various 
 dispatches every now and then, as in duty 
 bound, and then stuffing out his pockets with 
 them ! Poor President, he is human ! He must 
 have his Sabbath worship; he must have his 
 smoking hour; he must be permitted to listen 
 to the sea. What is one fine fellow, more 
 or less, generous heart, trained mind, drawing 
 fine lines and angles that the President could no 
 more draw than he could paint a Titian ; doing 
 work to be remembered when presidents are 
 forgotten, in the long procession of them; 
 what is one young, eloquent spirit, more or less, 
 martyr to the love of an old, worn-out minister, 
 in his eyes ? The girl sat with her stony, ter- 
 rible gaze fixed on the distant group. 
 
 "Clara! Clara!" cried the wretched Norcross, 
 "are you going mad? Heavens! What shall I 
 do ? Come, my child, use your will. Oh, I 'U 
 do any thing you say. I '11 go have a relief ex- 
 pedition started from some southern port in an 
 hour. I'll " 
 
 " Stop, papa ! " Clara sprang to her feet as 
 soon as her father, and caught him by the arm. 
 " Never go near those men again ! " 
 
 "What would you have me do?"
 
 342 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 Look at her, every body, this troubled beauty 
 on the glistening sands there ! Only you are too 
 far off, every body, on the drives, up the beach, 
 behind the blinds of cottages, to plainly see, 
 and you all wonder what it means. Color enough 
 now, and courage, too, and faith if only she 
 had wisdom ! Lemuel Norcross, for the moment, 
 as submissive before her as her waiting maid ! 
 And I do n't wonder, fearing for her life under 
 his careless yes, only careless blow. 
 
 "Now how good you are again, dear papa," 
 her white fingers a bracelet on his wrist. 
 
 " No ; I am wrong, and you are in the right, 
 therefore I obey you." 
 
 " Dear papa," kissing his hand, " it is written 
 I should honor you." 
 
 " And written that parents should not provoke 
 their children to anger. I 've read my Bible too 
 much or too little, child. I have just enough 
 religion to make me miserable, in a time of 
 trouble not enough to guide or comfort me \ 
 How I want to save your life and your reason ! 
 Tell me what will please you. It shall be done." 
 
 Clara's answer was thrilling, 
 
 "Papa, this news is a lie ! I know it, know 
 it, know it is! God is too good, that it should 
 be true!"
 
 LONG BRANCH. 343 
 
 "Well, well, now," he replied, determined to 
 encourage her till they could get away from this 
 public place, though he knew how conclusive the 
 dispatch was regarded by the officials yonder. " I 
 would believe that for a day or two at least. 
 Then what ? " 
 
 "Telegraph them at Amherst. They are all 
 there ! " 
 
 " Certainly. Why, the boy was due there to- 
 day. And Andrew can go down on our tug to 
 meet the Savannah steamer. She arrives on 
 Thursdays." 
 
 " You are so good, to help me plan it out." 
 More kisses: and, though no smiles, almost tears, 
 which will help her just as much. "But Puss " 
 
 "Exactly, Clara. She can do the kind thing by 
 
 the young man's " He caught himself just 
 
 in time to repress "remains." 
 
 " Yes, she may greet him ! " exclaimed Clara, 
 not observing his almost blunder. "Puss may 
 attend him and have him all to herself! God 
 help me to say it ! If she will only nurse him 
 back to health again. At Uncle Will's house ! 
 Telegraph Andrew, too, then, papa," clapping 
 hands excitedly. 
 
 " Gracious me ! " he exclaimed, as an idea 
 flashed upon him. " Gracious ! " Though of late
 
 344 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 years the recreant deacon could use stronger ex- 
 clamations on occasions. "Are you both in love 
 with the boy ? " 
 
 "I'll walk 'straight back to the cottage, papa," 
 resumed Clara, ignoring his question, "and be, oh, 
 so calm and silent, if you '11 begin now to go 
 hurry up to the hotel and send the dispatches." 
 
 He turned and walked one way. She turned 
 and walked the other. Had you seen either at a 
 distance, as Joe Nevada did from the smoking- 
 room, glancing up by chance, as the party of the 
 great and good did, glancing down by intention, 
 you might have supposed the lady's errand had 
 been the request to order a carriage for a twilight 
 drive. 
 
 " I '11 find out the facts for her. That 's what it 
 amounts to. The idea that I should ever be going 
 on such an errand. But, heavens ! I thought the 
 girl would go mad. What a face ! Can it be that 
 she was inspired, and the chap 's alive ? Why, if 
 so, then let this shrewd Puss catch her mouse and 
 help me out. That 's excellent ! "
 
 DISAPPOINTED. 345 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 DISAPPOINTED. 
 
 - ANDREW NORCROSS, coat off, cuffs 
 just being taken off, this hot summer 
 morning, in the private office of NORCROSS 
 
 BROTHERS, Street, Boston. Reads telegrams 
 
 first. Reads several. Suddenly this one. 
 
 "Paul Havens dead or dying. , Without doubt, 
 dead. Probably on Savannah Steamer. Do the 
 polite thing all round. If in time, better go meet 
 on our launch. Answer what find out to me. 
 L. NORCROSS." 
 
 " This is shocking ! Wonder if Puss knows it. 
 About kill her, and the other pretty girl, too. 
 Mighty nice fellow. Of course he's dead. That's 
 the kind that die. What a horrid thing is 
 Death ! " Touching two bells. Then two mes- 
 sengers. " Tell my carriage to wait. Quick ! And 
 you, look up office of the Savannah Steamship 
 Company." Touchimg another bell. "Call the 
 launch by telegraph. Tell Capt'n to come up 
 to India Wharf at once. Confound it ! Wish 
 I knew day of those steamers."
 
 34-6 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 " It is to-day, sir," replied one of the young 
 messengers. "My uncle is a " 
 
 " Never mind about your uncle. Due to-day, 
 eh? What hour?" Andrew Norcross had got 
 cuffs on again, and coat was going on. 
 
 "I can't tell, sir." 
 
 "No, of course not. Here. My hat. I shall 
 be out perhaps all the morning. I say, Sam, I 'd 
 give you fifty dollars if you could surprise me 
 with another piece of information as promptly. 
 But of course you could n't. Mr. Wardell, attend 
 to things." 
 
 " Please, sir, may I try for the fifty dollars ? " 
 asked the young employe, barely anticipating the 
 slammed door. 
 
 " Yes ! " Andrew looked back to reply. " Tell 
 me where an old clergyman by the name of 
 Havens, recently come from New Hampshire, 
 lives ! " 
 
 The boy laughed, chagrined, and turned away 
 saying, " Give it up, sir." But fifty dollars was 
 worth trying for still. At least, the information 
 might be worth forty, or thirty, or ten, several 
 days away. 
 
 Andrew had often thought of employing the 
 means which were ready at hand enough, for 
 such information. But he had felt that he had
 
 DISAPPOINTED. 347 
 
 no excuse for such detective work. Even now, it 
 was the impulse of this shocking news that em- 
 boldened him. He regretted it, instantly ; for, if 
 he did not intercept young Havens alive and on 
 the steamer, of course he would n't feel free to 
 obtrude inquiry at his father's dwelling, so care- 
 fully concealed. 
 
 " I 'm not flattered, Mr. Norcross," said the 
 obsequious agent of the great Southern line, fol- 
 lowing him to the door, " that so great a house 
 as yours keeps no better track of us. The St. 
 Johns to-day, sir ; landed all passengers an half 
 hour ago. Yes, sir. Not many, you know, at this 
 time of year. Expecting friends, Mr. Norcross ? " 
 
 " Well, yes. That is, Lieutenant Havens, of the 
 coast-survey " 
 
 " Exactly. Very low, if not dead. Indeed, very 
 distressing case. People over from the navy- 
 yard, two or three surgeons, and other blue- 
 coats. Treated with great distinction, sir. But 
 little he cares, poor fellow! A goner, sir, sure. 
 I 'm sorry to distress you, but I know that 
 swamp-fever myself. A man 's been on the line 
 long 's I have, knows them burning eyes." 
 
 "Good-day. What a fearful heat! Ah by 
 the way, were the sick man's family, any of 
 them, here ? "
 
 34 8 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 The bowing agent thought so. Quite a family 
 group. "But all gone over to the navy-yard hos- 
 pital, sir." 
 
 Why, yes. Andrew should have thought of 
 that. When it comes to a pinch, this govern- 
 ment takes care of its own. It would be quite 
 proper to drive over and make inquiry, certainly. 
 Or, should one wait for the morning-papers ? A 
 naval-officer's fate will be in the great newspa- 
 pers, without doubt, in the morning. Drive over? 
 On the whole, yes. 
 
 " At all events, he 's out of the reach of our 
 patronage," said Andrew, aloud to himself, for 
 he was alone in his carriage. " Tim, turn round. 
 I'll go back to the store. What pride the 
 Havenses ! Let 'em work it out, then," which 
 sudden turn-about of sentiment was brought about 
 by the sight of the flag proudly floating out on 
 the sky above the navy-yard enclosure. The 
 dear old flag seemed to wave such majestic wel- 
 come and care for its own, red, white, and blue 
 against the brazen heavens, beckoning and prom- 
 ising ; it seemed to the conceited young Nor- 
 cross as if it waved him quite out of the way, 
 as utterly unnecessary, with his "doing the po- 
 lite thing." 
 
 But by the time he had rumbled back to his
 
 DISAPPOINTED. 349 
 
 store, trying in vain to satisfactorily arrange his 
 telegrams, one to his uncle and another to his 
 father, the generous element in Andrew Nor- 
 cross' impulsive nature got control again. " Con- 
 found the fellow, I like his honors ! Hope to 
 the fates he '11 pull through. After all, a hos- 
 pital 's a hospital. If they had a decent home 
 to take him to, no doubt they 'd carried him off 
 with 'em. I wish I had him with me." 
 
 The upshot of it was that Andrew Norcross 
 telegraphed the meagre news that he had, 
 and left the rest of the tale to be telegraphed 
 by the news-gatherers of the press, which latter 
 gentlemen got from the surgeon at the hospital 
 the brief word, 
 
 " No, not dead ; but perhaps it were better if 
 he were dead," with a significant tap of the 
 forefinger on his own forehead. 
 
 They accordingly sent abroad the small item 
 that the young man had died, in delirium, dur- 
 ing the night. 
 
 AT AMHERST. 
 
 "As brave and true a heart as ever lived!' 1 
 said the president of the college, and referring 
 to Paul Havens.
 
 35 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 It was necessary to make some sort of ex- 
 planation to the chapel full of people, all in bright 
 June attire, sitting expectant of the great Bac- 
 calaureate Sermon before the graduating class, and 
 the second scholar ori the list not with them. 
 
 The organ had ceased playing. The thunder- 
 storm had not ceased. Was ever a commence- 
 ment Sunday, or a graduation day, without its 
 appropriate thunder-storm, breaking on the pro 
 cession and scattering the dear girls and mammas, 
 like a flock of doves, to the shelter of the 
 chapel doors ? 
 
 " The young gentleman who had been assigned 
 the second honor in this class," the president 
 had begun, "was excused that he might attempt 
 a labor of love in a most honorable field." 
 
 The speaker yet stood, in his foolish, black- 
 silk gown reaching down to his feet, which were 
 peeping from the skirts thereof, did ever feet 
 look so large as a man's beneath a gown? 
 when the first Long Branch telegram reached 
 William Norcross' hand. Mr. William Norcross, 
 honored trustee, sat upon the stage. With a 
 genuine shiver of distress the benevolent gentle- 
 man had instantly passed the dispatch to the 
 President. 
 
 A telegram knows no proprieties, it can never
 
 DISAPPOINTED. 35 l 
 
 behave impatiently, for it is always master and 
 lord. The preacher laid down the Bible, adjusted 
 his glasses anew, read, spasmodically thrust it 
 out at arm's length where he could read it with- 
 out glasses, as old people do, suspicious of 
 spies when news is unwelcome, and flushing 
 red with sorrow, told the audience. " A pain- 
 ful rumor has reached the government, so 
 telegraphs a friend, that the surveying party 
 under Mr. Havens' command have all been pros- 
 trated with the fever. It is even feared that 
 our noble young friend has already perished ! " 
 
 Did you ever hear that majestic monster, a vast 
 audience, one composed of many, utter a groan? 
 You may hear it to best advantage in church, where 
 awe and piety repress the demonstrations of a mul- 
 titude. It is pitiful. It is one great sob, and then 
 a silence as if the creature's heart had ceased to 
 beat, waiting to hear more, not knowing what to do. 
 
 Happy is he, and kind too, who knows how, just 
 then, to be the mouth-piece for this great creature, 
 Audience. The benignant, the wise, the beloved 
 father, as it were, of this community of scholars, 
 for such it is possible for an American college 
 president to be, did you but know it, graduates 
 of Oxford, Cambridge, and Heidelberg, he knew 
 what to say. And how tenderly he said it !
 
 35 2 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 "As brave and true a heart as ever lived."" 
 
 Ah, ye listening undergraduates, hear that, do 
 ye ? He, the thundering Jupiter from Olympus, 
 has just said that of one of you! And said it 
 with broken utterance and tears, too ! That one 
 so humble as any of your number could have 
 moved the heart of that great one ; for the 
 President is the greatest of great men to you. 
 
 Said that, did he ? Yes, and more : in the 
 presence of this noble company, he has gone on 
 to portray qualities of soul, high and holy pur- 
 poses in life, snatches of biography from per- 
 sonal acquaintance with this latest " St. Paul," 
 which meet and sway the audience with sorrow and 
 emulation. He "sincerely trusts the information is 
 incorrect [sensation], and every effort will be made 
 at once to ascertain, by a warm friend of the 
 young gentleman who is present ; I need not men- 
 tion his honored name, foremost in all good deeds." 
 Poor man, forgive him this almost unconscious flat- 
 tery to the rich patron, for the rich patron deserved 
 it for once ; and when could a college president, 
 creature of the rich patrons, ever let occasion pass 
 and break the habit of a lifetime ? 
 
 " Hurrah ! " 
 
 " Hush ! It is the New England Sabbath, 
 bovs." You bring frowns to drive away good
 
 DISA P POINTED. 353 
 
 Prex's tears. However, it was the most sup- 
 pressed hurrah in the world, though freighted 
 with such untold meaning. 
 
 " Paul Havens dead ? " 
 
 "The best fellow in the old hive gone?" 
 
 " That giant broken and we frail fellows alive 
 to turn pale over it ? " 
 
 Let the organ throb under the fingers of a 
 classmate, and let who can sing the hymn : 
 these women and fathers, if they can. But that 
 exclusive, that isolated world, the college world, 
 is moved with a thousand indescribable emotions. 
 Youthful sensibilities answer to the rude touch 
 of "vanity of vanities, all is vanity!" Rival- 
 ries, fierce as fire, are quenched in tears. Next 
 to the home-circle there is not a place on earth 
 where death comes with such awful shock, such 
 power to make men feel and think unutterably, 
 as in the college world. A world of poets to 
 be offended by this prose Death. A world of 
 beginners confronted by the old man's foe the 
 End. A world questioner, met by the historic 
 answer, Death. A world of mind suddenly 
 hand-cuffed by a material chain, Death. Draw 
 in your kites of high ambition, boys. What 's 
 the use of the struggle? How he spurned poverty 
 and lived above it ! How he shouldered out
 
 354 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 obstacles, and beat down a path for himself ! 
 Of what fine courage was he, the soul of chiv- 
 alry ! Yet, here it ends, all in a Florida swamp, 
 on the very day of his honors. Will this ser- 
 vice ever be done, that we can go to our rooms 
 and talk about him over our books, and bemoan 
 him, forgetting every fault he had, and arrange 
 for a class-meeting to draw up resolutions? 
 Poor Havens, old fellow, you had every man's 
 heart. We are certain now that you are dead, 
 or dying that you bid fair to prove, yes we'll 
 agree to it now, the most remarkable young 
 man ever educated within these walls. Every- 
 body can say that now, for it sounds well, and is 
 no matter ; it enhances the sensation of the hour. 
 
 " Havens ? I can see him yet ! " says G, who 
 came next to H, of course, in the alphabetical 
 order of the class-room. 
 
 " See him yet ? " Indeed we can. Who would 
 have predicted it of *such a physique ? " ask all 
 the other H's, whom he often had occasion to 
 pony along in a kindly and neighborly way. 
 See him yet ? Every passageway, every flagged 
 walk, every door of the rooms he occupied in 
 the venerable dormitory, seem to reproduce him 
 like so many mirrors. Who shall describe how 
 his society-men "can see him yet" in his place of
 
 DISAPPOINTED. 355 
 
 laborious honors at the head of their council board? 
 So profound is the sensation of death in college 
 ranks, that one may suggest to the ambitious who 
 graduate and have gone out into the world, 
 
 "You have outlived your opportunity to leave a 
 world desolate by your dying. You must be con- 
 tent now to be mourned by your heirs and a few 
 neighbors ; for in this outer world, different from 
 the college world, your departure will leave only 
 that sort of vacancy over which every body will for- 
 get to weep, for asking, 'Who is to be promoted?" 
 
 "A lady has fainted! No wonder. The chapel 
 is a steaming oven, after that June shower." 
 It was a cautious remark by one of the pro- 
 fessors, who promptly began to bustle about, 
 since he was so far from the center of the 
 dmpel, where the commotion was transpiring, 
 that there was no danger of his being called 
 upon to be really useful. 
 
 "Why why it is my daughter!" exclaimed 
 Mr. William Norcross. 
 
 Such was the fact. The high-spirited Puss ! How 
 chagrined will she feel, a few moments later on, 
 when she has regained consciousness in the ante- 
 room, whither they drag her. People who faint in 
 public places must always expect to be dragged out 
 as if they had suddenly developed a contagion.
 
 356 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 " Papa, it is nothing. I I have had a headache 
 all the morning. It was that my fan, please, 
 that breakfast of fat meats at the abominable 
 boarding place. Why will people prefer such 
 stuff for this hot weather ? " 
 
 Mr. Norcross laughs now. " She 's all right, 
 gentlemen." It is mostly gentlemen who proffer 
 their services when a lady faints in a church. 
 " She is all right, you see by the twinkle of her 
 old fun, and her caustic speech." Then he rubs 
 his chin and bends to whisper, " Better, now dar- 
 ling ? Want to get home, do n't you ? " 
 
 " Yes, papa, home indeed. To Boston," Then 
 getting to her full height, this empress in flow- 
 ing black grenadine with here and there a glow 
 of cardinal, she cleared the room by her glances 
 without having to ask as much. As soon as 
 they were alone she reiterated her request to 
 return to the city. It was, in fact, a determi- 
 nation. " You can stay, you know, papa. I will 
 go down on the evening train." 
 
 "But, Fidelia," this being a serious moment he 
 fell back on that name, " I thought you were 
 very anxious to be here and see Mr. Crane grad- 
 uate, and enjoy the exercises generally." 
 
 " Papa, do n't you see," flirting up her sunshade 
 with a resolute pop, " that I am not able to en-
 
 DISAPPOINTED. 357 
 
 dure this hot weather? One must walk everywhere 
 in this village, if one wishes to go anywhere." 
 
 "To be sure. Let's not walk so fast." They 
 were now down the steps towards the country 
 highway. " To be sure. I see." 
 
 And yet he did not see. You need not lower 
 your crest a bit, Miss Puss. No one sees ! Why 
 should they, you never having shown your heart 
 at home ? and as for these strangers, pouring 
 forth and scattering for Sunday dinner, behind 
 you, why, to them it was the most trivial inci- 
 dent in the world, a lady fainting from the heat. 
 You are not unconscious of the true state of the 
 case. If it were to see him here you would stay. 
 
 "By the way," rapping his cane suddenly on 
 a stone, the sign to himself to halt. " Here 's 
 the telegraph office. I '11 follow up that matter 
 of poor Havens." 
 
 " Do, please ! " She had done all she dared in 
 leading him out of the way to confront the of- 
 fice. "Telegraph Andrew, too, papa. And I'll 
 walk on to change to a traveling dress." 
 
 That is about all we have to say of Amherst. 
 Farewell, old gables and towers, smiling above the 
 umbrageous walks of the happiest and most rest- 
 less of worlds. Goodby, with echo of evening 
 song across the glebe. The train is moving.
 
 358 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 Our people are moving out of thee, into a wider 
 and a meaner world. Stephen Crane will return 
 from Springfield, on Monday morning : he has 
 been absent all this Sabbath supplying a pulpit 
 there and earning his bread. He will hear this 
 news of dear Paul, and not stay for the sheep- 
 skin, but hurry off on an errand of mercy, the 
 beginning of a very long journey for mercy's own 
 sake ; God must know that about this Africa 
 business, for there 's no money in it. 
 
 Rolling wheels. Backward looks : not that Puss 
 Norcross casts them for the gratification of her 
 own sentiment, so much ; but her thoughts are 
 of another who once went out from here so 
 bravely and never will return again. The sink- 
 ing sun with scarlet shafts flung wide across the 
 meadows, caught in many a cottage window, 
 smartly blazing, and lingering warm upon the 
 chapel tower above the green. She loses the 
 buildings ; she catches them again, for the wind- 
 ing stream turns its silver course about, compelling 
 the train to obey. Did he look back, half fear- 
 ing, half regretting, yet brushing tears away with 
 manly resolution ? Did he feel, for himself, as a 
 bright and loving girl feels now for him, putting 
 herself in his place ? Perhaps young men are not 
 as impressible and foolish as we girls.
 
 DISA P POINTED. 359 
 
 Do n't believe it, sweet woman, at least not of 
 that idealist, Paul Havens. Backward looks ? To 
 the noblest and truest men who leave these 
 scenes, there come not in all after life deeper 
 stirrings of the soul than those that are given by 
 the last backward looks as the college fades away. 
 And you, exquisite sympathizer, you are able to 
 enter into Paul Havens very mood and dream. 
 It would seem that your life is the complement 
 of his life, in some sense belonging to it and 
 necessary to its completion, so do your thoughts 
 read his thoughts and his dreams become your 
 dreams. How necessary you have been to him, 
 setting him right in the critical moment, saving 
 him that is, if he had lived. Lived ? He must 
 live ! Have you not been his good angel before ? 
 Shall it be denied you now ? And what good 
 has he done you ; his very rescue having been 
 your own rescue, for you have learned a new 
 meaning to religion by your search for arguments. 
 
 They are lighting the candles in the car. The 
 sultry night is fire-fly lighted all over the dark 
 meadows. He must live ! For whom ? What will 
 you say when his true heart steadily turns to 
 the North Star? True: what will I say? But 
 have I not seen it so turning all along ? And do 
 I not love him just the same ? Has he ever,
 
 360 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 by so much as the glint of one of those fire-fly 
 wings, shown any thing more than friendship's 
 affection for me ? He is the very soui of honor. 
 Yet I shall go right on loving him just the same. 
 Can you help that, my heart ? Just the same ; 
 just the same ; just the same. The click of the 
 car wheels sings it. I should die without it. I 
 may die with it. I will try to help her/ my 
 cousin. I will bite my thin lips hard, and he 
 may may kiss her full red lips, all his own! 
 I am equal to that. I can do any thing which 
 it is my duty to do, God helping me. To see 
 him a useful, happy man, doing great good to 
 mankind, why I can clench my hands very close 
 and hard and say any thing for that. I am 
 older than he and so might die first and leave 
 him toiling alone. She is younger. What mat- 
 ters it when I die, so I have done my work, 
 and seen him full of fruits in his! 
 
 But such tension can not last without its rest. 
 A woman's rest is tears. She clicks the lock 
 of the compartment ; and, burying her face in her 
 hands, cries out terribly : " Oh, God ! oh, God ! 
 Give me grace and strength ! How hard it is 
 to live and live rightly ! " The door being locked, 
 let us leave her to God and his angels, with 
 her struggles.
 
 IN TROUBLE. 
 
 XIX. 
 IN TROUBLE. 
 
 NORCROSS managed to follow up 
 the panic of solicitude into which her dis- 
 tress had thrown her selfish father. Her anguish 
 had been so real that, both from promptings of 
 natural affection, as well as calculating motives, 
 he yielded to her wish and suffered her, with her 
 mother, to go on to Boston, towards the last of 
 the following week. 
 
 He reasoned that " women were women, and 
 sometimes the best way to manage 'em is to let 
 'em have their own way, by which means, in a 
 revulsion of affection, they would return and in- 
 sist on you having your way, especially a dutiful 
 daughter would." 
 
 Then, too, Joe Nevada was off ; had taken 
 himself off with very delicate consideration, it 
 must be confessed. Moreover, his child's health 
 was a vital matter, since she was all he had 
 and sometime he must have a son-in-law. 
 
 So the plan was that Clara and her mother 
 were to go on for a short visit at William's,
 
 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 when, the usual summer party being made up of 
 Puss, her sister, and mother, they should run 
 over to Europe for the summer, or to some 
 country rusticating ; anywhere but Crosston. 
 " Probably Europe, for one of the partners must 
 go over to France, now that, etc. etc." Mr. 
 Lemuel had thus planned it, while, for himself, 
 he "would plunge into the thicket of the com- 
 mercial wilderness, as usual." 
 
 The Commonwealth Avenue house is open and 
 full, therefore, as never before in July. Boxes 
 and trunks, however, are now appearing, for two 
 weeks of almost speechless waiting and watching 
 on the part of these two young ladies has con- 
 vinced them both that the search is best aban- 
 doned, as a matter of course. For how could two 
 ladies pursue a gentleman who had chosen to 
 cover his tracks, in a great city ? 
 
 "We can not do any thing more, girls," said 
 the two mothers that is, Mrs. Lemuel spoke 
 the words and Mrs. William nodded the head. 
 " If the Haven people wish to decline our charity 
 and pursue their privacy, why, we can't help 'it." 
 
 The two young women blushed and paled ac- 
 cording to their several habits. They were 
 mutually annoyed, both by this unsought family 
 conference on such a subject, and by Andrew's
 
 IN TROUBLE. 
 
 merciless and brotherly remark, as he entered the 
 room with, 
 
 " Oh, he 's here in town, and alive. I have 
 reiterated it to you, that I barely missed him at 
 
 the steamer. Professor , at Cambridge, who 
 
 is high authority on coast-survey matters, and 
 who regards young Havens with such esteem, 
 he informed me the other night at the club, 
 all about them. The professor visits them. I can 
 tell you their street and number, if you want." 
 
 " Who can be so rude as a privileged brother 
 to his sister, and the other ladies of his home ? " 
 asked Mrs. William, severely. 
 
 " Ask him if he has seen the^ young ac- 
 tress " 
 
 " Minnie ! " was the mother's sharp rebuke to 
 the younger daughter. " If there is not to be 
 courtesy at home, where can you expect to find 
 it ? Now, children," she went on, " I assume 
 that we have all had only a Christian interest 
 in the family of this afflicted clergyman." 
 
 " And how finiky even the deserving poor 
 sometimes are, Matilda ! " Mrs. Lemuel thrust in. 
 
 " And," the hostess went on, only regarding 
 the remark by catching her breath, and clouding 
 her benevolent face with a transient shade of 
 pain and pity, " And now we can not serve them,
 
 364 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 because they do not need our kind offices, let 
 us say. I have explained the whole situation, 
 their possible extreme want and illness, to our 
 dear pastor, Mr. Crestlake " 
 
 "The dear soul," was Andrew's sly comment on 
 Crestlake, as he drew on his gloves by the door, 
 for which he got such a glance from his mother. 
 
 "And he," she continued, "always having 
 money of mine, like a holy almoner " 
 
 " Will know how to alleviate, in the most kid- 
 gloved and munificent way, the woes of a brother 
 clergyman, whose white hairs are sprinkled with 
 ashes ! " said Andrew, with borrowed gestures, 
 and resonant tones not his own. 
 
 Even Minnie's face turned against him, on this 
 speech. Every other face having all along been 
 against him, he promptly apologized, remarking 
 smilingly, 
 
 " Dear mamma, yours is the kindest heart in 
 the world. Forgive me, all of you. Now, the 
 upshot of the council is, that I shall telegraph 
 to our New York agent this morning, to engage 
 passage for all of you, with father, on the Adriatic, 
 next week. Whew ! But your indecision and delay 
 will cost us a pile of money to get on that ship!" 
 
 Cost ? How delightful it must be to live as 
 oblivious of cost cost in money, you know, for
 
 IN TROUBLE. 
 
 there are other costs than money which none 
 can escape as these five ladies lived! And so the 
 family conference broke up, without another word. 
 
 It is on the pier, reader. Not the White Star 
 pier in New York, where the rough and the 
 smooth of life meet for an hour ; where the 
 bawl of the draymen mingles with the silver 
 farewells of gentle women ; where the iron-bound 
 hoofs of huge horses strike the same planks as 
 the tiny slippers of fine ladies ; where the stench 
 of offal mingles with the fragrance of floral gifts. 
 It is not the gang-plank of the popular steamer, 
 over whose cleats Crcesus stubs his gouty toes, 
 and disappears within the huge iron casket, to 
 share the fortunes of the meanest sailor, if she 
 sink or swim. That was the pier from whence 
 the Norcross party left their country. 
 
 No. It is some weeks later, and on the Cu- 
 nard wharf, in East Boston. These freighting 
 steamers, as things were then, though bearing 
 the proud Cunard name, will carry a missionary 
 and his bride over the sea for a more economi- 
 cal fare. The sun of August burns its track 
 along the copper-colored eastern sky. The almost 
 deserted streets hide, here and there, a pedestrian 
 in the narrow belt of blue, sickly shade they can
 
 366 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 cast. Only the white slaves who must brave 
 the torrid heat, and even they drive slowly, or 
 crawl slowly. Every material thing that can crack, 
 yawns and shrivels, like the wharf planking, in 
 this morning glare. The stillness is like the Sab- 
 bath. The steamer has been given her cargo in 
 the night, out of sheer mercy to stevedores, ship- 
 ping-clerks, and horses. 
 
 A cheap hack creeps slowly and gratefully so 
 far under a shed that the panting beasts are 
 sheltered. Its door opens, after many a blow 
 from within, and Paul Havens steps out, on the 
 instant thrusting up his umbrella. It is the 
 same commanding stature, the same broad, shapely 
 shoulders, though the coat hangs somewhat loosely 
 on them ; the same bright eye, in the most 
 manly countenance in the world, though marks 
 of recent and departing suffering are chiseled 
 there. There is the same rich, musical ring in 
 the voice as he says, extending one arm, 
 
 " I can support you, father. We can drive no 
 nearer. Steve, you give mother your arm, and 
 I will return for Nora." 
 
 " Do you see any thing of Bella ? " the aged 
 invalid asks, as he descends. 
 
 "The horse-cars, which she took, run on the other 
 side of this block, father. Ah, there she is ! "
 
 IN TROUBLE. 367 
 
 " Yes. Oh, such a scalding ! " was Bella's re- 
 ply for herself. " Five of you, crowded into one 
 poor hack, must have felt it. Never mind, sis," 
 taking Nora under her sunshade, "There '11 'be 
 more carriages in the family when you come " 
 but, after all, her heart was too full for banter. 
 Yet, through the fast-falling tears, the marble 
 pallor of the speaker gleams with a defiance 
 of poverty, and a menace to their hard lot, quite 
 discordant with the gentler mood of the others. 
 
 " I fear the midsummer heat will prevent a 
 very large attendance of dear brethren and sis- 
 ters from the city churches," remarked fearless 
 Stephen Crane. 
 
 Ah, how illustrious he appeared that day ! His 
 bloodless cheeks wore a defiance holier far than 
 the high-spirited woman's, which we have just 
 noted. Defiance of lurking disease, of the rough 
 old sea, which he dreaded like a child of three 
 years, of the river, and swamp, and mountain, 
 and wilderness, and the horrors of barbarism, 
 and defiance, most of all, of this next terrific 
 hour, when heart-strings should be pulled till 
 they snapped. All this for the love of Christ 
 which constrained him. 
 
 " We shall be alone, no doubt," Paul answered. 
 
 " Probably ! " said Bella. If it were but possi-
 
 DOLLARS AIVD DUTY. 
 
 ble to transcribe all the sarcasm, the irony, 
 the vengeance, and the ambition with which this 
 cultured woman spoke that one word ! And she 
 never looked more transcendently beautiful than 
 in saying it. What an agony rent this stately 
 creature's soul ! The utter misery of sisterly 
 parting, a parting, perhaps, forever. The absolute 
 contrast and comment of Nora's life-work beside 
 her own proud ambitions and purposes. A mis- 
 sionary ! An actress ! Children of the same 
 loins. Her torturous " contempt for the church 
 which had so cast off and neglected her noble 
 sire." Her resolute purpose to believe her sister 
 was going upon a fool's errand. Yet, every now 
 and then, a changeful mood, and a rising of a 
 great tide of childhood beliefs, offering to her 
 sweet truth and rest in the religion of her 
 father, till she almost was upon the point of cast- 
 ing herself at Nora's feet, confessing. So had 
 it been for these three awful days and nights, 
 last past, since her sister's humble wedding. 
 Pity her. Happier far is that soul which has 
 never believed, than the soul which, once believ- 
 ing, afterwards seeks " liberty " in doubt. 
 
 " Bella ! Bella ! " It was all the chiding her 
 father could trust himself to give with speech, 
 but his fond blue eyes left off seeking a place
 
 IN TROUBLE. 369 
 
 for his cane and feet, to fasten upon her 
 face. 
 
 " I know it, I know it ! " Bella burst out, 
 meaning, probably, that she was all wrong. And 
 she threw her arms passionately about her sis- 
 ter's neck, kissing her over and over again. 
 
 " You must, must bear up, dear," whispered 
 Nora. " Every night, in the little, lonely room, 
 remember." That is, remember the covenant that 
 these two cradle-mates had made, that they 
 would give the last waking thought to each other, 
 and pray for each other's repose. 
 
 " Good sister," Paul remarked, " they who try 
 to serve their fellows make up their minds 
 before hand that it is the most thankless task. 
 They hear Christ's words, 'ye have done it into 
 me.' Be careful of this slippery deck, father ; 
 they are just now flushing it, not being ac- 
 customed to regard passenger's arrivals. What do 
 we care whether any one is here to say these 
 heroes goodby or not ? We are sure God and 
 angels are here !" 
 
 You would have pronounced the speaker a 
 happy man. If there was a trace of iron in the 
 resolute smile he wore ; if his full eyes had, at 
 first, cast an understanding glance on Bella 
 speaking bitterly, as if he had once known all
 
 37 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 about her bitterness in his own soul ; you would 
 yet have seen so calm and clear a radiance pre- 
 vailing over these that you could not doubt his 
 inward peace. Evidently this brother had won 
 great authority, by his worth, for the fiery 
 Bella did not resent his rebuke nor accuse him 
 of preaching at her. No doubt he lived in this 
 atmosphere of love and the authority of worth 
 in the family. 
 
 "Here we are in the cabin, now," Paul ex- 
 plained cheerfully. A few flowers are there 
 before them, with cards of city clergymen at- 
 tached, for which orders, with dates, had been 
 telegraphed from Martha's Vineyard, and various 
 other clerical retreats. A sewing machine was 
 there ; a medicine chest was there ; a tiny 
 library was there ; all boxed and marked with 
 the names of good ladies who had self-sacrific- 
 ingly asked their husbands for the necessary 
 checks to pay therefor upon some one's sug- 
 gestion that "it would be a pretty thing to do." 
 
 This and that official of the Board had meant 
 to be there and say, oh, ever so many noble 
 words and heroic exhortations ; they were gen- 
 erally on the dock as missionaries departed ; 
 for they generally felt that they "needed the 
 fresh enkindling of such realistic aspects of a
 
 IN TROUBLE. 37 l 
 
 vocation, which otherwise was apt to lapse into 
 perfunctary routine." But, alas poor gentlemen, 
 "detained in the country, worn out with labors 
 and the summer's heat." 
 
 The Secretary of the Home Society was there, 
 his sterling heart alone more than equal to a 
 host, and wearily conscious itself that it needed 
 to be. 
 
 Mr. William Norcross, true man and sincere 
 Christian, would have been there, but that he 
 was himself over the seas. 
 
 Stephen Crane's parents and other kindred 
 would have been there, but that " he had not 
 a relative on earth, so far as he knew, except 
 this dear little wife, who clings to him now, 
 and her kin." However, orphan hero, since "we 
 are compassed about by so great a cloud of 
 witnesses " from on high, who shall say that 
 mother and father were not there ? Quite likely 
 the mean little cabin was full of beings invis- 
 ible to mortal eyes. 
 
 Pastor Haven's many friends would have been 
 there, no doubt of it, scattered all up and down 
 the land as they are, but that they have " quite 
 lost sight of him of late," " As for his 
 kindred," exclaimed Bella, " why, an old man's 
 kindred are young people, if there are any
 
 37 2 DOLLARS AND DUTY 
 
 nieces and nephews left ; and it is remarkable 
 how easy it is to forget an uncle who can 
 leave you nothing but a white, clean name ! " 
 
 " If it had been any other season of the year," 
 Bella resumes, chatting aside at Paul, " it would 
 have been possible to hold farewell meetings, 
 good brother, with organ peals and banks 
 of flowers, with exhibitions of our hero and 
 heroine, to stir the heart and open the purse 
 for this Dark Continent Mission has been 
 much talked about of late, papa says. And, for 
 that matter, it will be much talked about when 
 cooler weather comes . and it is time to take the 
 collections again. It may be necessary then to 
 draw on the imagination, a little, in describing 
 this supernal hour of courageous departure to 
 capture a continent, etc., etc." 
 
 " Hush, hush, my unhappy sister," Paul was 
 in vain whispering. 
 
 There were a few loving hands outstretched. 
 There were certain godly women who braved the 
 heat, and walked, not being the carriage-owning 
 kind. Some of them had brothers or parents in 
 distant lands ; and they knew, you know. Others 
 of them were greatly attached to one Jesus who 
 went about doing good ; and that was their 
 motive.
 
 IN TROUBLE. 373 
 
 Clang ! clang ! all ashore. It is their right to 
 be alone now. Clang! clang! 
 
 " Oh, my children, my children ! My sweet 
 little Nora, latest born ! " It is the mother's 
 wail ! How silent this woman has been ; they 
 had not heard her speak before ; had you ? God 
 keep her, with her arms thrown about the 
 daughter ; for, if God does not help her, she 
 will never be heard to speak again ! 
 
 That cry shook down every one's resolution to 
 be brave. The mother-heart gave the signal and 
 the whole group were conquered ! There was a 
 long silence, while, I have no doubt, God put 
 beneath her the Everlasting Arms. 
 
 " Mother ? " It is Paul who is speaking. He 
 is trying to get these two apart. That proves 
 difficult, for the child is not simply going to 
 Venice for the winter. 
 
 " Mother ? " It is the panting old clergyman 
 who gasps it out from his chair. " Mother ? 
 give her up to sit in my lap for a moment, 
 once more, will you not ? " 
 
 That does it. 
 
 Paul Havens has his mother in his arms 
 now, as tenderly fondled as when her arms held 
 him. 
 
 Clang ! clang !
 
 374 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 "Now let us give them up to God," the old 
 man murmurs. 
 
 Stephen Crane kneels, tearless do you mark 
 it ? at the pastor's knee. Bella Havens kneels. 
 
 "Great God we give this precious child up 
 to go do for a dark world what thy Son came 
 to do for it tell of thy love. Our children are 
 not our own. Thou knowest how we love and 
 trust this dear boy, her husband," a thin hand 
 went out to flutter over his head. "Now keep 
 them, O Christ ! Thou knowest how we have 
 kept her ever since ever since she came, 
 a pretty little babe " 
 
 It is too much, sir. Let us sit in silence. 
 There must be a Day after to-day, when such 
 cross-bearing will be explained, in the realm of 
 a Good God. 
 
 " We must go, mother." 
 
 " Yes, my son. Do not fear for me now. 
 Come, oh, my strength ! I must, must have it 
 strength ? To stand and watch them as long 
 as the ship can be seen from these shores ! " 
 
 " Then lean upon Bella. No, Steve, do n't go 
 ashore again. Stay with my sister, at any rate 
 on deck. Father ? Now, ready." Then, this to 
 Stepen Crane. " Old friend, there is no cant in 
 this. This comes pretty near being as full a
 
 IN TROUBLE, 375 
 
 consecration as man can make. But I think, 
 dear old Steve, this is the happiest, grandest 
 moment I ever lived ! The Divine Favor is on 
 us. I '11 seek to be as true, God helping me, 
 to the broken hearted of this land as you will 
 be to the darkened souls of that land ! Grace 
 be with thee, oh my sister, oh, my brother ! " 
 
 They stand apart on the breezy pier-head 
 these four ; on the after deck those two. The 
 long, low boom of the steam whistle moans 
 solemnly. The cry of the sailor, blue-coated and 
 gold-leafed he, is the only spoken word now. 
 The hiss of scathing waters answering unto 
 power is followed by the dreaded backward surge 
 at last ; and slowly, wearily, reluctantly as 
 becomes her when tearing hearts asunder, the 
 great ship turns to the east. A kindly wind, 
 which flutters the cheap blue veil about sweet 
 Nora's face, as she leans against her husband's 
 breast, would gladly carry for her yet one word 
 more to the group on the pier. But it is not 
 spoken, for the word itself is wanting, and could 
 not be found in all the many tongues that were 
 ever used on earth. 
 
 Neither do these on the pier speak. And now 
 they have no tears. But they have faith and 
 joy unutterable all save one. This torn, weary,
 
 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 devoted home-circle of the humble preacher, 
 breeding children to be the food of sacrifice ; 
 why the staple of their daily bread for years has 
 been, "TiiY WILL, O GOD, BE DONE." 
 
 After a season the ship is but a blot upon 
 the cold blue mirror of eastern sky and sea, 
 and it is time to go home. Yes, for the sun 
 is low and cooler now. Yes, for the hack is 
 hired by the hour. It is high time to go home. 
 The ship is but a speck on the waste. We 
 must go home. 
 
 Home ? Why, yes at any rate it was a 
 dwelling place, if not a home.
 
 A CALL. 377 
 
 XX. 
 
 A CALL. 
 
 1 4 T HAVE a call ! " cried Paul Havens to the 
 -- assembled household about the next morn- 
 ing's breakfast table. " To-day I must assume 
 my parochial cares." 
 
 "Your call!" replied Bella, incredulously. "I 
 had supposed that skillful and managing foe of 
 yours, Brother Lemuel, would be able to prevent 
 any important church of the denomination so 
 much as looking at isn't that the pretty phrase 
 they use? looking at the Rev. Paul Havens, 
 candidate and in waiting ! " 
 
 "Yet I have it, and here in Boston, sis," 
 with a placating smile ; " and the largest parish 
 under the care of a single pastor in this city!" 
 
 " Despite the man ! " This Bella, knife and 
 fork laid on the table. 
 
 " Ob, you pretty girl, do forget the man ! " 
 This Paul. 
 
 "Indeed, let us forgive and forget," pleaded 
 the benevolent old father, from his end of the 
 board. "He must have something good about 
 him. I was reading that he signalized his
 
 378 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 daughter's birthday, just before she sailed for 
 Europe, by a single lump donation of ten thou- 
 sand dollars to what was it to, mother?" 
 
 "Really papa," Bella put in, "one may be 
 excused in forgetting what for. No doubt much 
 more was said by the good newspaper about the 
 giver than the receiver." 
 
 "And yet it will all be found in eternity, my 
 dear child, to even Lemuel Norcross' credit." 
 
 "Yes, dear sir, in the treasury over against the 
 Temple, along with the widow's mite." 
 
 "Well, well," Paul thinks it time to repeat 
 for peace's sake; "notwithstanding all, I have my 
 call. Why do n't you ask about it ? How much 
 salary I am to get, and how I like my people ? " 
 
 " How much, then ? " asked Bella, to indulge 
 this brother, whom she idolized, after all, in any 
 banter he had on hand to amuse this forlorn 
 morning. The actress, that she was, how soon she 
 could change from frowning to bewitching beaming! 
 She seemed, at least, all glorious sunlight now. 
 
 " How much ? Not a beggarly cent that I 
 know of! I shall be for once, father, like my 
 great namesake of certain centuries ago. My 
 own hands must minister to my necessities ; 
 though with the figuring of my Florida terit- 
 life, rather than making tents."
 
 A CALL. 379 
 
 "Oh, you dear fellow!" exclaimed Bella, sud- 
 denly coming near him and eagerly embracing 
 him. " Then you are going to be sensible and 
 take the government's offer ? Five thousand a 
 year, and such a pretty uniform ! I knew you 
 had never yet been been made a reverend." 
 
 " Ordained ? No, sis ; it 's true I never have 
 been, as yet. But," with a knowing smile 
 towards his father, "if it will please father that 
 I go through that formality, I can even yet." 
 
 " Come, Paul," said his sister, her face shad- 
 owed again as she bent on his shoulder, " no 
 more of these enigmas. Where 's your church 
 building, then ? " 
 
 " See here, Bella," drawing down her face till 
 she could look, as he pointed, under the low, 
 white window-curtain. " On that vacant lot to- 
 morrow morning, not three minutes' walk from 
 my Episcopal palace, you see a glowing, snowy 
 canvas canopy will be spread. That for summer 
 at least. Doors open. Seats free ! " 
 
 " That is," she added, in passing sympathy 
 with the heroism of it, " your call reads, ' Go ye 
 out into the highways and hedges and compel them 
 to come in that my house may be fully She re- 
 peated the noble words with fine effect. 
 
 "A very ancient call, my sister."
 
 3^0 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 " Yes, and once much sought after, but of late 
 years, the work being somewhat unpoetic, it has 
 lost a trifle of its desirability. Still, I must con- 
 fess, Paul, considering who signed it, you will 
 regard it as highly authoritative. Oh, well ! " with 
 a sigh, " so I must give you over ! Shoulder 
 straps and sword, and the five thousand a year. 
 I do n't see but what the actress is to be your 
 main reliance yet, for a coach and horses, papa 
 and mamma." 
 
 " Thirty-five thousand people in this ward, 
 within sight of the scarlet cross which will fly 
 the mizzen-mast ! " This, Paul, with enthusiasm. 
 
 " Nora's needle-work ! exclaimed Bella, striking 
 her fan on her arm. " I thought she was to take 
 that to heathendom." 
 
 " This is about heathendom, sis. Not a rival 
 church to mine in the whole world ! " This, Paul, 
 with gravity. 
 
 " Night schools, no doubt ? " Beaming again. 
 
 "And temperance meetings," said Paul, yielding 
 to her mood. 
 
 " A Magdalen asylum for these young girls 
 who walk wantonly," she added, soberly and pity- 
 ingly, for a moment. 
 
 " Yes, and even a league of these teamsters 
 and car drivers to prevent cruelty to animals."
 
 A CALL. 38l 
 
 " And your favorite, practical Christianity, an 
 employment bureau ! " 
 
 " And a cup of cold water from as clear a 
 fountain as Cochituate can spout, my dear. Hur- 
 rah ! " he cried, winding his strong arms about the 
 great girl, now on his knee, with a hug of boyish 
 enthusiasm that fairly compelled her into protest. 
 
 " Perhaps you 'd like me, Paul," she remarked 
 to address your tent full of women on the sub- 
 ject of wholesome cooking, and thrifty, economi- 
 cal housekeeping. Just think of me, doing that!" 
 What a silvery laugh this woman had ! 
 
 " Indeed, why not ? A practical Yankee girl." 
 said her father. 
 
 " And a superb voice for public address, with 
 some practice of late," added Paul, taking her 
 seriously. 
 
 " You could first preach on the text " 
 
 " Children, have ye any meat ? " he replied, pat. 
 
 "Yes, and 'they saw a fire of coals with fish 
 laid thereon.' Our Lord was not above that 
 cooking, my dears," suddenly remarked Mrs. Havens, 
 yielding to the sunny aspect of things at last. 
 
 " Oh, brother, brother ! " exclaimed Bella, re- 
 leasing herself now, and standing meditatively by 
 the window while she gave them her thoughts, 
 "what days on days you will be obliged to spend,
 
 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 going from house to house, teaching sanitary care, 
 pointing out filthy neglect, kindly rebuking care- 
 lessness ; for God knows that cleanliness comes 
 next to godliness, and before it in my judgment." 
 
 "Yes, I'm ready, I hope, for all that. My 
 idea of a creed is, Do man any sort of good that 
 is within man's fower. See here, sis, you '11 help 
 me at that ? " 
 
 "Why, I like that creed," she answered, drum- 
 ming on the window-pane, a tempest rising in 
 her soul. 
 
 " Put it this way, my lady. Whatever Jesus did 
 for men, so far as man can copy, do the same!" 
 
 "Fresh air excursions, for instance?" 
 
 " Why not ? Any thing. That 's in the gospel 
 story, across the lake, you know." 
 
 " Where will you get the money, sir ? " 
 
 "The poor are the friends of the poor. We 
 shall not lack money " 
 
 " Nor ever, ever have to go fawning on the 
 rich Pharisees for your sinews of war?" with a sly 
 and not altogether pretty turn of her stately head. 
 
 " Well, there '11 be no three-thousand-dollar 
 choirs to pay, Bell. Come now. Do n't distill 
 any wormwood into your own cup." 
 
 " Ah, well, you go your way, I '11 go mine. 
 I '11 address the women for you, so far as that
 
 A CALL. 383 
 
 goes ; but that 's all I '11 promise now. I long to 
 hear your preaching, my grand brother ; I '11 
 listen to that. I, who have n't darkened a church 
 door since papa ceased to preach. Stay ; I can 
 prophesy what you '11 preach. It will be novel ; 
 or rather the old come into fashion again. This 
 brilliant mind and loving heart I am serious, 
 Paul, now you listen, please and this persuasive 
 voice will simply explain page after page of that 
 everlasting New Testament of his. There will be 
 no attempt at rhetoric. There will be no sensa- 
 tional themes. Except, though, as ' Thou shalt 
 not steal/ ' Thou shalt not covet,' ' Honor thy 
 father and thy mother,' with all the rest are sen- 
 sational. Indeed, brother of mine, the plain incul- 
 cation of all the commandments would probably 
 produce a sensation in more exclusive churches 
 than yours. As week by week he tells the story 
 of the New Testament ; speaking it like fresh 
 news to a sorrowing world ; omitting no verse ; 
 evading no mystery, but confessing it ; telling it 
 affectionately, as he has to me in many a walk 
 of late, and my ears so unwilling ; why, men, 
 women, and children will listen marvelously. Be- 
 lieve the actress ; she knows ; it is her business 
 to study effects. Portray Jesus Christ, sir, as the 
 Great Physician, and men may come to associate
 
 3 4 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 Jesus Christ with that tent not Paul Havens' 
 tent, after the manner of some brick and' stone 
 tabernacles. Men may come to think of Jesus 
 Christ as often as they catch sight of Nora's 
 red cross on the pennant ! And it shall seem as 
 if the street and beaten paths up to its doors 
 were frequented by the passing benignant form 
 of Jesus Christ ! The sight of Paul's face, father, 
 moving about the simple neighborhood, shall re- 
 mind the people of the passing Jesus ! " 
 
 "Bella! Bella!" protested Paul, though his 
 eyes were full of tears, as were all eyes, ex- 
 cept the speaker's, for she had kindled quickly, 
 and had spoken with real eloquence. But now 
 the tempest within her was at its height, and 
 her own eyes, too, were filling. She put her 
 hands to her face and left them, on the instant, 
 for her attic room. 
 
 It is difficult to describe how busy this young 
 man soon becomes, reducing Bella's prophecy to 
 history. A lump of leaven among five and thirty 
 thousand. His errand, any possible good that 
 man could do. His strength returned. A fever 
 generally either kills or makes a giant of a man. 
 He often worked twenty hours a day. How he 
 thanked God for his endurance. 
 
 This queer preacher, now with health equal to
 
 A CALL. 3 8 5 
 
 the double task, toiled assiduously to acquire a 
 knowledge of medicine. He spent long- hours in 
 the hospitals. The staff at the Naval Hospital 
 were warm friends. Rapid and apt in learning, 
 he soon became more popular with the sick 
 poor of his "parish," than the men of fees. 
 Yet the men of fees acknowledged him ; they 
 never dishonored a summons, sent by Paul 
 Havens, " to visit the widow and the fatherless 
 in their affliction." His own study of medicine, 
 begun for other's sake, became a pivot on which 
 his life was almost tempted to another turning ; 
 he discovered an aptitude for surgery in himself. 
 Great surgeons are born and not made. 
 
 " You have inventive skill, Doc," said the sur- 
 geon-in-chief to him. " You have developed in- 
 tuition, rapidity of movement, the mechanical 
 habit, nerve, and daring, Havens. You should 
 be a saw-bones and done with it ! " 
 
 " I have a profound reverence, sir, for the 
 human body," Paul replied. " It is a wonderful 
 temple!" 
 
 "The crowning reason why you would be an 
 eminent surgeon, Havens ! " rejoined the chief. 
 
 But Paul would not turn aside ; no, not for 
 "inducements," though he felt privileged to 
 make his services pay him something at
 
 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 times, here and there, among rich patrons beyond 
 his parish limits, thanks to the other doctors. 
 
 As for the humble poor they grew to glory in 
 this gentle giant. He was their hero. A strange 
 power over them came with their reverence and 
 gratitude. 
 
 All this time not a word to or from Clara 
 Norcross over the seas. He was often tempted 
 to write to her ; wondered that she did not take 
 the initiative, for how could he know her 
 address ? He wrote a letter, and would have 
 sent it on a venture, but that very day one of 
 the surgeons at the hospital accosted him with, 
 
 "I say, Doc," I met a friend of yours to- 
 day. Norcross. You know, brother to the 
 William Norcross, who founded the Ophthalmic 
 wing here, and who, being in Europe, is repre- 
 sented in some final accounts by Mr. Lemuel." 
 The twinkle in the speaker's eye might have 
 warned Paul not to encourage the handing over 
 of Norcross' message. But, being pre-occupied 
 with the case in hand, he answered, 
 
 "Oh! And what did he say of me?" 
 
 " Well, to be frank with you, his lordship con- 
 sidered you a fraud, to be exposed here in 
 town yet ; had heard of your work of course, 
 as all the town has."
 
 A CALL. 387 
 
 " Then I 'm pretty well exposed already, I 
 fear," said Paul carelessly, and continuing his 
 work with the patient. 
 
 " But, I take it the tidings are not pleasant," 
 resumed the surgeon. For however independent 
 of the man you may think you are, yet who 
 can measure the possibilities of millions, my boy ? 
 A man with millions, if he be so disposed, can 
 find a tool for any dirty work against your life 
 which he may choose to hire done." 
 
 " And the fee for dirty work would not seem 
 to need to be large," Paul added gravely, "if 
 one considered how many dirty fellows pass the 
 corner of Washington and Winter Streets, for 
 instance, in the procession of a half day." 
 
 It was not physical fear, however, that op- 
 pressed Paul Havens, nor the dread of any dis- 
 credit which the man might manipulate the press 
 to fling in the air concerning his work ; though 
 Paul had great schemes in mind, and would need 
 unbounded public confidence by and by, for their 
 furthering. 
 
 It was rather the oppression of hopelessness 
 as regarded Clara. Paul's charity had credited 
 her father with some latent goodness, some shred 
 of the piety he so openly professed, and some 
 paternal tenderness for Clara's weary heart. He
 
 388 DOLLARS AND DUTY, 
 
 had hoped, in time, if he showed himself a man 
 and worthy, that Lemuel Norcross would see 
 him as he really was. 
 
 But this and other similar little indices of a 
 powerful ill-will, which was working against him, 
 relentlessly in the city, broke down such human 
 hope, day by day. The Divine Favor, however, 
 is deathless. He grew happy in his work as 
 his own life grew lonely, for he had the Divine 
 Favor. 
 
 It was winter again before Paul became aware 
 that Clara, with the others of the Norcross party, 
 had returned from their European trip. He 
 caught a glimpse of her, one afternoon, sleighing 
 down the broad drive where wealth disports itself 
 in that gayest American winter city. 
 
 She did not see him ; he felt sure of that. 
 And he did not need to look the second time ; 
 one glance was like an instantaneous photograph. 
 He held his head away and passed over the 
 drive on some charity errand which employed 
 him. It was the same wonderfully beautiful face. 
 He lived the day through by gazing on it, as 
 it was pictured anew in his soul. Yet, while it 
 made the day glad, it made it sad, of course. It 
 compelled him to his work anew, for one moment's 
 sight of that face had left life very lonely.
 
 A CALL. 3 8 9 
 
 He found himself scrutinizing the face, seen 
 an instant, remembered ever. It was not happy; 
 he felt sure of that, though high and exciting 
 pleasure filled the avenue, and Cousin Andrew 
 held as proud a rein as any in the throng. 
 Paul remembered how gleeful, like a child, Clara 
 always was when behind horses. 
 
 At evening, after tea, when the brother and 
 sister sat alone, Bella would often say, 
 
 "They bowed." 
 
 " So they did to me. But Andrew was more 
 gracious, I think, when you were with me, sis." 
 
 " Mr. William is a genuine man, bub. I won- 
 der he has not noticed your work." 
 
 "He has. I was told to-day, at the hospital, 
 that had he not found himself unusually busy 
 since returning, he would have sought out the 
 young apostle to the Gentiles. How is that 
 for a title?" 
 
 " That message means a collision between him 
 and his brother ! " exclaimed Bella, promptly. 
 
 " How so ? " 
 
 " The iron will of Lem Norcross never bent, 
 I tell you ! If William attempts to be kind to 
 you, Lem will cease to ignore you. Then trouble 
 begins anew for you, and for his daughter, too, 
 no doubt. Is it not singular," Bella continued,
 
 39 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 moralizing, "that it is the man whom you have 
 injured whom you will seek to injure again ? " 
 
 "True. The injured party can forgive; the 
 injurer, never." 
 
 "Then, too, evidently you are more in this 
 man's way, and a heavier obstacle, than ever 
 before," patting his shoulders proudly. 
 
 As the winter wore on these young people 
 came to know each others' respective dwellings; 
 and there was not a little of furtive window 
 studying. Paul Havens frequently passed Clara 
 Norcross' handsome residence, nearly finished now, 
 and freely spoke of it to the little home-circle. 
 If he did not mention it for an evening or two, 
 Bella, proud and cold as ever, passing it daily on 
 her way to and from the theatre, frequently 
 brought in some fresh scrap of information for 
 the frugal tea-table. 
 
 "They are putting in the most elegant French 
 plate glass, brother of mine." 
 
 " Yes." Paul would smile good-naturedly in 
 return. 
 
 " And I see the ebony-framed mirrors are built 
 in almost as handsome as I shall have one of 
 these days ! Think of it, dear mamma ! " 
 
 But this never brought a smile. Such refer- 
 ences, frequent and studied, clothed with cheer
 
 A CALL 391 
 
 and perfumed with the one remaining affection 
 of this haughty young spirit, brought many a 
 cloud and many a tear. Still, what could you 
 have done, you most exemplary parent who are 
 reading this ? This young actress was a daughter. 
 
 " Wife, she is the only girl-child left us, to 
 nurse our sick days, to bring in sunshine and a 
 merry song," the father often said. " She is as 
 pure to-day, as artless, as lovely at home, yes, 
 be sure we watch carefully enough to detect the 
 slightest assailment, as ever she has been in all 
 her life." What more could a pastor do, or her 
 mother, or her brother, but pray ? 
 
 " Let her go ? Drive her out ? " Paul would 
 ask. " No doubt, scores of good people could 
 easily advise us. But not one word will I offer 
 to assail her art ; not one ! To flame and flare 
 at Bella Havens ? " 
 
 Then lose her ; for this audacious and unhappy 
 soul was held by the one gentle rein of home 
 love. How keen was her tongue, indulged in the 
 utmost refinement of irony, when she saw from 
 the little cottage windows the faces of the Nor- 
 crosses turned thither from the driving avenue ! 
 
 " They know where we live, Paul ; no doubt of 
 that. They never pass here, on their afternoon 
 airings, but Puss and Clara cast glances this way."
 
 39 2 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 "No doubt," Paul answers. 
 
 The little house, as was intimated, could be very 
 plainly seen from the drive, not ten rods away. 
 
 Rail at her? Reproach her? Curse the theatre, 
 that you might subdue and reclaim her? 
 
 " No, no, my- sister ! " Paul said it a hundred 
 times if he said it once ; and did it, too, putting 
 his arms about her a noble armful, she ! " I 
 do not believe in your mission. It may be des- 
 tined for some, but a good home is your mission, 
 sis," kissing her. " Some good man will open 
 your heart yet and find its treasures. Oh, that 
 the grace of Christ could first be welcomed to 
 take out this bitterness, my precious sister ! But, 
 remember, Bella Havens, that as long as you live 
 and he lives, your brother gives you his unstinted 
 trust ! " And there was often such pathos in his 
 tones that the haughty head of the listener would 
 drop on his shoulder, while the fine eyes filled 
 with tears. 
 
 " My children," the invalid pastor would add, 
 "cling, cling, cling together! Minister to each 
 other without any offence. Bella will yet see the 
 glory of God in our poverty and straitness. 
 When were 'we ever happier if " 
 
 "Never mind the ifs, father," Paul says. "My 
 work is your work continued, free and large. It
 
 * 
 A CALL. 393 
 
 grows every day, the mustard seed. As for 
 Nora " 
 
 "Was there ever a sweeter, gentler little 
 preacher," Bella breaks in, drying her eyes, "than 
 that little sister of of mine, with her precious, 
 precious letters ! Why, papa, she has never said 
 one harsh word against the theatre ! I wish, 
 almost, that she would, for that I could resist ! 
 But oh, sirs, you two preachers, how that girl 
 writes about her Jesus ! She is ever telling me 
 of the beauty and joy she finds in Jesus!" 
 Then she, even she, the self-reliant, can only 
 bite her red lips and cast down her long eye- 
 lashes tearfully, while she picks at the corner of 
 her handkerchief and moves away to the window. 
 
 Everybody's eyes get filled now. And a sacred, 
 blessed, hopeful silence ensues, while all the 
 others exchange significant glances and the old 
 pastor murmurs : " Yes ! Ye.s. Blessed way ! 
 Prince of Peace ! He will yet do it. The 
 promise is, 'to you and your children.'" 
 
 So they took Bella's proffered earnings and 
 placed them in the common treasury. " I am 
 beginning to earn, you see," she said; "though 
 not largely : for they that aim high must com- 
 mence low, pay a great price of almost awful 
 toil and wait long. If you will make the people
 
 394 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 laugh or please the lecherous with a bare round 
 arm, not to say more," somewhat bitterly and 
 with a blush, " you may earn much and quickly. 
 But if you will interpret Shakespeare, for in- 
 stance, you must almost die of fatigue and star- 
 vation to do it ! I some times wonder if the 
 reward is worth the price ; not speaking of the 
 pecuniary reward, which will be weighty, but the 
 sense of personal satisfaction with the uses of 
 one's talents, that is supposing I had them." 
 
 " A life spent interpreting the lesser of the 
 world's two books, Shakespeare, not the Bible. 
 I, too, wonder," replied her brother. 
 
 It was a matter of surprise, as time passed 
 on, that Paul Havens, becoming one of the most 
 prominent of the younger philanthropic workers 
 of the city, and meeting many of the benevol- 
 ent people engaged in the numberless depart- 
 ments of charitable endeavor, never met Puss 
 Norcross. Her mission was a private church 
 affair and located at the North End, far away 
 from him. Yet he was often in that vicinity ; 
 he even took occasion to look in at doors on 
 several occasions, and saw strangers enough, but 
 no Miss Norcross. Upon making bold to inquire, 
 one Sunday afternoon, the gentleman in charge 
 asked with some surprise in reply.
 
 A CALL. 395 
 
 " Had you not heard ? She has been very sick 
 Came back from Europe in a wretched nervous 
 state. But she is better now. She will be here 
 next Sabbath." 
 
 Ah, No, I had n't heard. And her benevo- 
 lent father?" 
 
 " Yes, we have missed him very much for a 
 year past, in all our city work. He has usually 
 
 been foremost in every good thing. But " 
 
 And the gentleman drew Paul's ear to hear a 
 whisper "that the firm is in some financial 
 straits ! There are ugly whispers about concerning 
 the main partner, a brother, Mr. Lemuel Norcross." 
 
 "No! You astonish me!" exclaimed Paul. 
 
 " Yes. Fact ! " was reiterated with that peculiar, 
 sympathizing smile, a smile of painful regret, of 
 course, with which some times fellow-Christians arc 
 obliged to spread ill news of each other. " The 
 two gentlemen are in Washington now, trying to 
 rig the tariff, or some such thing, it is said." 
 
 Paul Havens' heart ached. He remembered 
 now the Crosston bookkeeper's solicitude upon the 
 occasion of the riots. Indeed, he walked home 
 that day recalling a great many things, this and 
 that, which he had thought about and observed. 
 
 However, Paul and Puss met in the little North 
 End Mission the next Sabbath. People noticed
 
 39 6 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 how frail she looked and what palor was on her 
 gentle face till, of a sudden, all changed ! Her 
 features glowed and her step became firm and 
 spirited. She came down the noisy aisle to meet 
 her visitor, and spoke first, saying, 
 
 "This is such a pleasure !" 
 
 " Indeed, gentle lady," said Paul, " I have to 
 begin with apology. Had I only known that 
 you were an invalid " 
 
 "And not engrossed with society, the reason 
 why I was not here ? But we have looked for a 
 social call, Mr. Havens," smiling sweetly to soften 
 the rebuke. 
 
 " True, Miss Norcross. But, really now, you 
 are fully aware of of " 
 
 "I know. Uncle Lem. He has, of course, 
 been with us, while Clara's house is finishing, 
 I understand the delicacy of a sensitive nature. 
 We will not speak of that, come up and sit 
 down with me," and she led the way to the 
 rostrum. " I find," sinking into a chair, " that 
 I am not very strong yet." 
 
 Then they fell to conversing about her health, 
 her trip, her home, and this "dear work here, 
 with these people, children of sorrow," Some 
 Sunday talk, a good deal Monday talk. Then 
 the inevitable Clara talk at the end.
 
 A CALL. 397 
 
 "I shall have her here to assist me, next 
 week, and hereafter, I expect." How she watched 
 him now ! 
 
 "Will you? Here? This work?" 
 
 There was such a pleasure in his face and 
 joy in his tones. And again the burden of 
 hopelessness or may be it was her nervous 
 prostration ; yes, that was it fell so heavily on 
 her that she almost gave way for a moment. 
 But it was only for a moment, brave heart, 
 was it ? For in another instant she is rattling 
 on, brilliantly. 
 
 " Yes, that is, if her father does not send for 
 her to go on to Washington. You know Clara 
 is devoted to her father. But all winter the 
 dear girl has gone about on my charity-list 
 rounds, visiting and doing a world of good 
 among the church poor. She has even driven 
 down here on some good errands ; but I could 
 never persuade her that she had the gifts of 
 leadership for my place in the mission. She is 
 what some would call too womanly for rostrum 
 work, you know." 
 
 But to tell the truth, the young gentleman 
 was not very certain, is not to this day, just 
 what more was said, there was a good deal 
 more said, though not about Clara Norcross.
 
 39 8 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 You could not expect one woman, however 
 heroic and self-denying, to make the man she 
 loved glad by talking so very long about the 
 woman he loved, she not being that woman. 
 Hence, though Paul listened, entered into her 
 benevolent plans, spoke to her school, and followed 
 her form about with his eyes as she rustled her 
 robes to and fro doing this and that, still it must 
 be confessed the heart of the man was elsewhere. 
 Clara Norcross engaged in his own kind of 
 work ! The sunny, care-free, merry-hearted pet of 
 the Crosston mansion come to delve in the shadows 
 of the city's poverty ! " And loving it. Did 
 Puss not say Clara was happy and in love with 
 the work ? Ah, if she did not it must still be 
 true. I was not, I could not have been mis- 
 taken in that generous nature. Deep as the 
 seed ! Rich as the meadow loam where flowers 
 grow unplanted ! Blame her not, the sweet child, 
 for the pampered life which her proud and 
 foolish father inflicted on her. Oh, what a wife 
 she would make, for me now ! Not that I would ask 
 my wife to share my public work ; that is, with 
 her hands. No, no. But think of such a woman, 
 lovely, ever bright and womanly, sitting in my 
 home to meet me when I returned from these 
 labors I have marked out for myself. Think of
 
 A CALL. 399 
 
 it, kind heaven ! She there to sympathize with 
 me, she to understand me that I am not throw- 
 ing life away nor giving my strength for naught ; 
 she to enter into all these perhaps wild plans, 
 these revolutionary plans of mine. Her husband 
 no ambitious orator, no earner of fat revenues, but 
 a simple worker with him who went about doing 
 good ! " 
 
 Paul handed Puss into her carriage and went 
 on his way. All the week he walked in a 
 dream. The old passion, which all the world 
 knows, had him in its complete control. The 
 philanthropist was a mere man. He could have 
 thrown the whole six days away, to be in next 
 Sunday. 
 
 At times, however, he hesitated. Was it the 
 privilege of a high-toned gentleman to seek 
 stolen interviews, knowing as he did the relentless 
 opposition of the lady's father ? To be sure, she 
 was a woman grown now, no mere child, ignorant 
 of the possible results if they should meet again. 
 And no doubt Puss would tell her, so that 
 Clara's coming to the mission next week would 
 be with her eyes open. The scruple grew upon 
 him. There was an indiscretion about the meet- 
 ing which was exceedingly offensive to this open 
 nature. Besides, Paul Havens was made aware,
 
 400 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 every day, that he was becoming a conspicuous 
 man, and that it behooved him, often associating 
 with white-haired philanthropic gentleman, to "let 
 no man despise his youth." 
 
 When Sunday afternoon arrived, Paul did not 
 appear at the North End Mission. As he went 
 about other tasks he said to himself, " No. She 
 herself will not expect me. A young girl's first 
 duty is to her parents. Heaven help me, I '11 
 not play the decoy ! " He felt, too, that his 
 position in life was as dignified, to say the 
 least, as the silk weaver's with all his millions ; 
 some pride, of course ; we do n't claim that 
 Paul was a saint. 
 
 " Not here," said Clara, glancing up to Puss, 
 as the session closed. " I did not expect him, 
 my hero ! Had I expected him I doubt if I should 
 have come. I tell you, cousin, Paul Havens 
 must not be humiliated in our next meeting. 
 Unless it is accidental, I shall make the overture, 
 as I ought." 
 
 But their meeting, the first for a long year, 
 was to be accidental. It occurred in this wise. 
 
 In every great city there are " best circles " 
 and "best circles." There are the "old fam- 
 ilies," into whose circle no parvenue of a recent 
 wealth, however great, can come. There are
 
 A CALL. 401 
 
 the opulent parvenues themselves, who charge an 
 admission fee of certain millions. There is no 
 end of exclusive sets, founded on all sorts of 
 corner-stones ; that you know. And you may 
 know that there are people of such genuine 
 piety, unostentatious, quiet, and of real worth, 
 whose employment is benevolence, whose recrea- 
 tions are Christian deeds, into whose "circle" 
 the humblest may be admitted on the passport 
 of a true heart and the promise of usefulness ; 
 and from whose " circle " the wealthiest and 
 the most famous would be barred if he had only 
 wealth or fame to offer. 
 
 Perhaps the very "best circle" of the city 
 was made up of certain earnest Christian men 
 and women who clustered about Mr. William 
 Norcross. Out of this great city perhaps a 
 hundred such people had been called in the 
 passage of a score of years. Many times that 
 number formed this fringe of this cloth of gold. 
 But the golden threads were not many. They 
 had come to know each other in many a hard 
 struggle against the foes of human happiness. 
 They were of all denominational names, eccle- 
 siastically considered. Most of them were of 
 great wealth, or had been at some period of 
 their lives, though subsequent poverty expelled
 
 40 2 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 no one once tried and found true. To touch 
 this body of people was to touch the heart of 
 Boston. It is so in every city. When these 
 people moved, armed with the right, even the 
 newspapers bowed and what more can be 
 said ? 
 
 A " parlor meeting " of these people had been 
 collected, one April evening, at the spacious resi- 
 dence of ex-Governor Blank. It had been in- 
 tended to call the conference at Mr. William 
 Norcross' house, but that the " Washington busi- 
 ness made that beloved gentleman's presence 
 uncertain," the ex-governor explained, balancing 
 himself over the back of a chair, on which he 
 leaned. " However," he was " happy to say that 
 good brother is with us, notwithstanding." The 
 ex-governor, being a fervent secretary of the clear 
 old r,ort, " brothered " every body. 
 
 It was a most brilliant assemblage, ladies and 
 gentlemen conspicuous by dress, and conspicuous 
 by the absence of it, young and old. There 
 were ranks of chairs, filling room after room, 
 and ranks re-duplicated by mirrors, till it seemed 
 a most imposing presence. It is not to be de- 
 nied that adventurers were there, also ; a soldier 
 of fortune would almost pawn his sword to be 
 admitted. Heaven alone can always detect the
 
 A CALL. 403 
 
 masked man or woman. Lemuel Norcross was 
 there ; his brother had often dragged him into 
 such society ; and he had been admitted on the 
 card of kinship. Afterwards William had made 
 him pay for it. That was right ; the good brother 
 worked tirelessly with the hard brother to save 
 him from his selfishness. And, from one motive 
 or another, Lemuel Norcross had given away 
 much mopey ; we never have denied that fact. 
 
 The object of the meeting was to consider the 
 old, old theme : " The moral condition of Boston ; 
 the increase of ~rime, vagrancy, and street-beg- 
 ging, etc." Nothing new, except that Paul Ha- 
 vens was to address the company. In one year 
 he had reached the heart of the city ! This old, 
 good heart of the city, ever beating kindly ; often 
 weary ; never ceasing its throb ; and welcoming 
 warmly this fresh drop of blood : " a young and 
 earnest man, who has shown that he has new 
 ideas, and a strong philanthropy." So the chair- 
 man put it. 
 
 Clara Norcross sat, hand-in-hand with Puss, by 
 the end of the piano, when Paul got to his 
 feet, and not ten feet away from him. In the 
 seated throng she had not noticed him, nor was 
 it known generally, certainly not by these ladies, 
 who was to " talk to the meeting."
 
 404 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM A DIARY. 
 Dated " COM. AVE., in my room, midnight^ April 12. 18 
 
 " I had not seen his face before for many a 
 long day. Studying it, I scarcely heard a word 
 he said for some minutes. What a surprising 
 honor ! Paul Havens here ! He talking to the 
 soul of this most conservative city ! Both Puss 
 and the writer, two women who were* contrasts 
 in every other sense, were alike in this, I am 
 sure, their whirlwind of emotion, their fixed eyes 
 filled with tears. Yet, they sat clinging hard at 
 each other's hands concealed in the folds of 
 their velvets. The writer watched his hands work 
 off their nervousness on the back of his chair ; 
 she saw, delighted, the passing away of the hes- 
 itating breathings, and the rising tide of self- 
 command and conscious power. She knew when 
 he had forgotten himself oh, most blissful hour 
 to the orator, always ! and was lost in his 
 theme. She saw that strange marriage of cool- 
 ness and ardor, of ice and fire, the fine cherr- 
 istry of oratory. She saw "that supreme play of 
 mind, whereby all that a speaker ever read or 
 thought upon a given subject, comes, no doubt, 
 like a troop of slaves, ready for his tongue ; and 
 she noted the grace of extempore words, fairer
 
 A CALL. 45 
 
 than any studied grace can ever be ! She saw 
 the flash of new thoughts, and the speaker's lux- 
 ury in them. Can there be any other luxury to 
 be compared with it ! " 
 
 " It was the eloquence, not of declamation, but 
 of the most dignified conversation. The speaker's 
 nearness to his hearers almost revealed each fine 
 movement of his soul. There was no place for 
 artificiality. His sincerity enriched his features 
 and transformed them, before their very eyes. 
 For my part, I, Clara Norcross, poor little ninny, 
 grew breathless under the spell. If old men all 
 about me, leaned forward and hung upon his 
 speech, if stronger women were hushed in deep- 
 est sympathy, what shall I say of Puss and my- 
 self? Yes, poor Puss. Then, I knew how you 
 idolized him. And, somehow, I did not hate you 
 for it, either." 
 
 " At one time, the audience drawing the long 
 breath that a spell-bound audience at instances 
 does, I just nodded my head to denote the direction 
 in which Puss was to look and whispered, 
 
 "'See! His father and mother!' 
 
 " ' Yes,' was Puss' reply, ' and see,' with a 
 little nod to the left, ' your father's face ! '
 
 46 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 Which gave me a great shock. For poor, 
 unhappy papa's face was was not pleasant to 
 look upon." 
 
 "It was not until almost the close of Paul's 
 address, the modest history of his work being 
 done, his theories propounded, and at last he 
 came to his appeal to Christ -like motives, 
 that his eyes ventured to meet my own. Mine ? 
 Yes, surely mine, though the other pair of eyes 
 were just at my left. Once met, our gaze never 
 parted till he had finished. He was talking to 
 me ! He pleaded and persuaded but one heart. 
 He kindled to a fervor and spoke with a tender- 
 ness far beyond his previous mood ; and like oil 
 on flame, that fact lent a wonderful power to 
 his final words. I hoped he might never cease, 
 but hold me forever in that strong enchantment. 
 And oh, if he had but felt as reluctant to close 
 and yield up the satisfaction which might have 
 fed his hungry heart through my fixed eyes ! 
 
 Havens surely did close abruptly, and, even 
 amid the applause, pressed his way directly to 
 Clara's side. She arose and gave him both her 
 hands in the old way. There was a burst of 
 music. There was a throng about him. He was 
 bowing and blushing under distinguished compli-
 
 A CALL. 
 
 ments and offering his left hand to distinguished 
 men. He exchanged hands with Clara, confused 
 by his error, but not annoyed and not to be 
 crowded away from her side. The buzz of con- 
 versation mingled with 'the music. A breath of 
 cool air invited them out of doors. Holding her 
 hand still, like country children romping a field, 
 he led her through the hall, out of the press 
 of people and honors. He managed, through a 
 servant, to secure her cloak and his overcoat, 
 with his hat. She threw over head some pretty 
 white woolen thing, which Puss managed to 
 smuggle into her hands, snatched from her own 
 shoulders by the way, the invalid, and out into 
 the grounds the two lovers passed. 
 
 The cool of a brilliant April evening was on 
 them. But her cheeks were hot enough ; he said 
 as much, and had proved it, too, almost as soon 
 as he had spoken. 
 
 " And yours, my dear sir, are not icy," she 
 replied, putting up her soft touch to make more 
 sure. And she gave a little spring as if her 
 glad feet must skip, as she came close' under his 
 broad shoulder. 
 
 " This is all very wrong, Clara." 
 
 " No doubt, Paul. Yet we could not help it, 
 could we, after a whole year ? "
 
 408 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 " Not if we die for it ! " 
 
 In an instant the strong resolutions they had 
 made to bravely live apart, became as soft as 
 the April haze that floated up from the distant 
 marshes. The April haze floated up to play with 
 the moon-beams, to entangle granite steeples and 
 stony tower in cobweb harness, and to take the 
 shape of lovers' castles. 
 
 He drew her radiant face into the cold light 
 and talked to it. It was the bursting of a tor- 
 rent. He told the face that he had done his 
 best to forget it, to live as a-Kempis lived, but 
 he could not ! He was no great philanthropist, 
 no mighty reformer. He was " but a hungry, 
 starving village lad, fainting for this village lass." 
 He had had " no dream of this meeting when he 
 came. But it was God's kind will, this meeting. 
 Now that he had met her, now that he held her face 
 and it was still true, he would pawn all his 
 evening's honors to keep it, the face. What evil 
 had they done ? How could it be written on 
 high that they should live apart ? Who said it ? " 
 
 The man shook like one palsied as he held 
 that face and talked himself out to it. 
 
 The face was its own answer. 
 
 They shortly started into a brisk walk, up and 
 down the hard paths of the garden, saying many
 
 A CALL. 409 
 
 things ; walking more briskly yet, for the raw east 
 wind began to come up over the city, fresh from 
 the sea, and plaitings of cloud were formed of 
 the April mist. By the time they re-entered the 
 mansion a chill was in their bones. A storm 
 was drawing nigh.
 
 4 J DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 HAVENS AND NORCROSS. 
 
 r I ^HE following morning, in the striking proxim- 
 -*- ity of adjoining columns, the newspapers 
 bore for head-lines the names HAVENS and 
 NORCROSS. The two columns took all the eyes 
 the town had, and suffered certain scores of 
 other human beings, about whom less important 
 " news " had been scraped together, to escape 
 unobserved. For I take it that most of " the 
 news" in an interesting copy of a morning 
 journal is torture to those whose private affairs 
 are thus served up for the rest of us ; and all 
 the Non-Havens, Non-Norcross dramatis persona 
 of that next day's press were glad, and skulked 
 away off the stage in holiday mood, Yet 
 curiously, if your name was Havens as Bella's 
 was and it was your bread and butter to be 
 head-lined in the papers, as it was Bella's, 
 for nothing short of love or money could you 
 have been printed large, as Bella's brother and 
 his foe were. If you want to get into the 
 papers, the printer's satanic genius will keep
 
 HAVENS AND NO RC ROSS. 4 1 1 
 
 you out. If you do n't want to get in, the same 
 maladroit spirit will not suffer you to keep out. 
 For that matter, neither Paul Havens nor 
 Lemuel Norcross read the papers the next morn- 
 ing with any quiet. To Paul, at least, it was 
 like going clown Washington Street in his shirt- 
 sleeves, the sensitive fellow; yes, and without a 
 hat, and hearing every body say, with pointing 
 fingers, "That 's young Havens. How much will 
 he measure across the back ? Wears odd kind 
 of suspenders, do n't he ? " The publicity which 
 the honorable and glowing report of last night's 
 "distinguished gathering" gave him; the first 
 sight of the cold short-hand report of his words, 
 wherein he had laid his very heart open to the 
 world; and what men said about that heart, 
 dissecting it, however respectfully, yet a dissect- 
 ing; and the awful load of public expectation 
 so suddenly setting down on a young fellow, 
 who really had never dreamed of any thing but 
 going about his own business unobserved and 
 unpraisecl, except by his own heart ; all this 
 made his hand shake, you may believe, as he 
 held the paper. Add to that the hour with 
 Clara in the governor's garden, the review of 
 which had kept him awake all night, trying to 
 decide whether or not he should go boldly,
 
 412 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 risking all the humiliation of refusal, and ask 
 her father again for the dear girl. 
 
 " Give the paper to me, little boy," cried Bella 
 Havens, in high spirits, noticing his agitation. "I'm 
 used to publicity, or hope to be, you know." 
 
 She took the sheet and read the long account 
 clear through, amid a grateful hush of the small 
 home room, and the smoke of an obstinate 
 cooking stove at one side of the table, for 
 the wind was east, and bad flues felt it ; the 
 storm was on. 
 
 " Hurrah ! Hurrah ! " in softest silver cheer, 
 so that the family up-stairs could not hear, 
 exclaimed the girl, waving the paper prettily. 
 " The family name is out at last, gentle people ! " 
 
 "God help my dear boy!" said the pastor, 
 through his tears. 
 
 Paul's mother said nothing. It was not nec- 
 essary. Over and over again the eyes of mother 
 and son met and told their own story. 
 
 " Why, what is this ? " It was an unfeigned 
 sensation, though rather too eager to denote 
 pain, from Bella's lips as she, dreaming over 
 the Havens column, suddenly saw the Norcross 
 column right at its side. But you would have 
 overlooked it, too, reader, had your name been 
 Havens. " Well, well ! Dear, dear ! A news-
 
 HAVENS AND WORCROSS. 4*3 
 
 paper is like a thunderstorm you can never 
 tell what moment the next crash will come. 
 Hum hum. I declare!" and so she went on 
 devouring the tidings, like the hungry lightning 
 to which she had just referred. 
 
 The family regarded her in silent and deep 
 expectation, as she folded her arms and bent 
 over the sheet spread across her knee. They 
 saw her dark eyes flash. They saw the color 
 mount high in her face. They saw the rich lips 
 part and the pearl white teeth shut hard. They 
 saw the breast heave, and the foot that was 
 crossed swing nervously its heel against the 
 chair. They saw a cold, cruel, exultant smile 
 beam out, like sunshine on wintery hills, beau- 
 tiful, dreadful ! 
 
 What is it, daughter?" asked the pastor, "we 
 have not had family prayers yet." He sat with 
 the Bible open in his lap. 
 
 "Wait a moment" was all the reply they 
 could get from her. 
 
 " What is it ? Do tell me ! " demanded the 
 mother. 
 
 " Ah, there is a God in heaven, after all, I 
 guess ! " escaped through her teeth. 
 
 " Come, Bella, do tell us something ! Have n't 
 you read enough to impart a scrap ? " asked Paul.
 
 4H DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 " Once are the righteous avenged, at least ! " 
 the beautiful teeth said, though the eyes could 
 not spare a glance. 
 
 There was nothing left for it but to wait in 
 silence. Till at last, rising to her feet, majestic, 
 matchless, beautiful, yet oh, so unlovely, this 
 long suffering daughter of the parsonage flung 
 up her arm high, rustling the paper like a 
 banner of triumph, saying, 
 
 " Lemuel Norcross is a beggar and probably a 
 defaulter ! " 
 
 "In one night? Impossible!" This, from Paul 
 up-sprung. 
 
 " Punished, and by his own hand ! " This from 
 the actress. 
 
 "What! Dead?" He was hoarse. He was 
 reaching up for the journal. 
 
 " Oh, no. Not dead, perhaps. He will live, I 
 trust, to suffer his just deserts." Bella still kept 
 the precious paper high up. 
 
 " Girl ! Come, out with it, or give it me ! 
 I saw him last night, and he appeared as usual. 
 You would say he did, father ? " 
 
 "That may be," Bella resumed. "But this is 
 an interview with a very wealthy silver miner, 
 ex-Senator Nevada, and his son, too, I believe," 
 offering to make sure. " Yes. It seems that for
 
 PIAVENS AND NORCROSS. 4 T 5 
 
 a year or two these gentlemen have been credi- 
 tors of our our pious friend, dear Mr. Norcross. 
 They worked the tariff to shield him, or bridge 
 him over, a year ago. But this session the tariff 
 was changed. Then Mr. Norcross behaved 
 unkindly, indeed, quarreled with these devoted 
 friends of his. They naturally insisted on their 
 rights, and, being neither clergymen nor women, 
 got their rights, or nearly got them ; when lo ! 
 the good Mr. Norcross' affairs are found to be 
 all honey-combed with irregularities. Not thefts, 
 the street says, but irregularities." 
 
 "Where is he?" asks Paul. 
 
 " Norcross ? To be sure ; where is he ? " was 
 Bella's reply, as she flung the paper over to her 
 brother and laughed, not loud, but exultantly. 
 " That 's what the interviewers want to know ; 
 could n't be found at a late hour last night ; 
 his side of the story not told. Heigho ! 
 Where is he ? I 'd like to look on his grave 
 and troubled face myself at a distance!" 
 
 " Oh, my poor child ; my precious, beloved 
 child ! " sobbed Mrs. Havens, her emotion being 
 a commingling of shock, sympathy with " poor, 
 dear Sister Norcross," and a sort of terror at 
 the pitiable sight of Bella's cruelty and vengeance. 
 
 "Poor heart!" It was the tremulous tones of
 
 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 the clergyman. He half rose to his tottering 
 feet, and grasping his daughter's skirt, drew her 
 towards him, sinking back into his chair. As 
 she yielded to him, resting on the arm of the 
 chair, he could not have supported her weight, 
 he began stroking her locks back from the 
 noble forehead, in silence. The tears rolled down 
 his cheeks like rain. His eyes were closed. 
 His lips gave now and then the slightest move- 
 ment. Bella needed not to be told that he was 
 engaged before the throne of Infinite Mercy, 
 for her, for Paul, for Clara, for the old church 
 at Crosston, and for the once honored parishioner. 
 
 Paul sat, bent over the newspaper, gathering 
 the light from the mean window and the dark, 
 stormy day. The day grew darker, and the storm 
 heavier without. Rising now, with stony resolu- 
 tion on his face, he reached for his coat and 
 hat, then bethinking him, he turned to his father 
 with, " At once, if you please, sir ! " 
 
 "Yes, yes," was the response. "Family devo- 
 tions before you go." 
 
 Then he read the ancient precept, of which 
 no man lives long in this world without being 
 in sore need, beginning, " If thine enemy hunger, 
 feed him; if he thirst, give him to drink." After 
 that, the prayer ; and such a prayer ! Had it
 
 HAVENS AND NO RC ROSS. 41 7 
 
 come to the ears of the wretched Norcross him- 
 self it might have been like oil on raging seas, to 
 give momentary peace to his agony and shame. 
 
 Straight to the mansion in Commonwealth 
 Avenue ; without a moment's hesitation now. 
 As Paul Havens pulled the bell, as the impas- 
 sive hall-man opened to him, as venerable Wil- 
 liam Norcross stepped quickly into the vestibule, 
 silently extending his hand ; as the ladies of the 
 house glanced up at him in the dim light of 
 the curtained room, removing handkerchiefs from 
 tearful faces, he felt sure of his welcome. 
 
 " Among true friends, there is no etiquette of 
 sympathy in sorrow," Paul said. " One may 
 offer whatever his heart prompts ; therefore, I 
 am here, dear friends." 
 
 " God witness that we are glad you have come, 
 Paul," said William Norcross, ashen pale, bowed 
 down, and with that aged look which every 
 body has remarked as the result of sudden misery. 
 As he sunk into his chair, he groaned, "Ter- 
 rible ! Terrible ! " 
 
 " Yes, yes, dear sir ; God himself can not help 
 knowing that. Terrible ! But his grace you 
 know." Paul had seated himself at the old gentle- 
 man's side. 
 
 A nod of the head was the only reply.
 
 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 The truest comforter, in almost any trouble, 
 takes your hand with a world of meaning, but 
 attempts little speech and expects little. This 
 trouble, however, was not like death. There is 
 none like this trouble. It is Disgrace, the true 
 king of terrors. Silence ? What could any one 
 say ? There was little weeping. The instinct is 
 hiding, to escape out of the rays of the sun, or 
 lamp, or glance of even a friend's eye ; to be hid 
 from all the world. 
 
 ' Paul glanced round on the hidden faces of the 
 room, and waited. Where was she ? Perhaps 
 soon to descend from her chamber. He waited, 
 holding the cold, still hand of this agonized 
 Christian gentleman, who had treated all human 
 kind with justice and mercy all his years. 
 
 After a decent interval, as she did not appear, 
 Paul asked, 
 
 "Where is Clara?" 
 
 All faces uncovered now ; and staring pityingly 
 and surprised upon him. 
 
 He sprung to his feet, fairly demanding, 
 
 " Where is Clara my his daughter ? 
 
 " My poor boy," tremulously answered Mr. Nor- 
 cross, with some faint purpose of attempting, now, 
 compassion in his turn ; " we do not know." 
 
 "Do not know!" Oh, for power to write a tone!
 
 HAVENS AND NO RC ROSS. 4 J 9 
 
 " She has disappeared with gone after, of 
 course, we think you know how she loved her 
 unhappy papa ! " 
 
 "When?" 
 
 " Early this morning, my dear fellow. He left 
 a note for her alone, saying she would never see 
 him. again. You understand that some reporters 
 undertook to interview poor Lem round at the 
 governor's before we left ; he took alarm, came 
 home very much agitated, went to his room, then 
 went out on pretext of of we are unable to 
 agree as to what his pretext was." 
 
 " But Miss Clara ? " reiterated Paul. 
 
 " She must have sat long in her room also. 
 I doubt if she had undressed. She had been 
 writing and about you, too, my dear fellow 
 pardon us for reading, for we were searching for 
 clues. Here is her diary, with accounts of last 
 evening's meeting." And therewith the girl's 
 uncle handed Paul the little book, into whose 
 pages the reader has been permitted to look. 
 
 Paul eagerly took the diary and was on the 
 point of opening it, when he suddenly bethought 
 himself, and returned it with, " Have you been 
 to the store ? " 
 
 "Young man," gravely replied Mr. Norcross, 
 "we have turned the key in the store door.
 
 420 DOLLARS AND DUTY 
 
 Every thing is gone by the board ! I know now 
 that two weeks ago my unhappy brother de 
 misled me. All is over with the firm, I fear ! " 
 
 " But, sir, we must bestir ourselves " 
 
 " We have sent Andrew to employ every pos- 
 sible agency to discover the whereabouts of my 
 brother and his child. All our efforts are now 
 concentrated on that." 
 
 " And, oh, Paul Havens," suddenly exclaimed 
 Puss, " do help us to find them before it is too 
 late ! " She was standing with her pleading hands 
 clasped and outstretched towards the young man. 
 " Each of us children, Minnie, Andrew, and I, 
 have property. I am sure we are what might be 
 called rich. I have property. It was given long 
 ago. Take all, all of mine ! Only save uncle from 
 from doing some dreadful thing with himself!" 
 
 " You grand young man, go ! My husband is 
 utterly prostrate. Andrew is inexperienced, I fear 
 
 inefficient, though, dear boy what is it, dear ? " 
 
 Mrs. William Norcross was the speaker ; she sat 
 fanning Clara's wretched mother, and suddenly 
 broke off her speech to catch the meaning of a sigh. 
 
 Paul was on the street before he knew it. 
 Before he knew it he had opened the door cf a 
 carriage, waiting at the horse-block. He opened 
 his hand : it contained a roll of bills !
 
 HAVENS AND NORCROSS. 421 
 
 "She must have given me that, noble Puss 
 Norcross." 
 
 " Where will you go, sir ? " It was the family 
 coachman's question. 
 
 Sure enough, whither? 
 
 Sometimes the mind acts automatically ; it 
 thinks for itself, and your volition waits in at- 
 tendance. In such moments the mind, like the 
 feet, runs back to familiar paths, thinking in the 
 familiar channels of boyhood. 
 
 " To the Boston and Lowell Depot." 
 
 Why he gave that order he could never say, 
 except that he was recalling dear, old, happy, 
 Crosston days, before these miseries. 
 
 On the way to the station calm reflection con- 
 firmed him. All that the city police agencies 
 could do of course Andrew would cause to be 
 done ; it would be his first recourse. But no one, 
 perhaps, would think of Crosston. 
 
 " A fox, pursued and frenzied by hounds,- will 
 
 travel in a circle and return at last to its den," 
 
 
 thought Paul. " So will this crazed man. 
 
 Driver?" consulting his watch, "faster! Like 
 the wind ! The noon train north ! " 
 
 A car driver recognized Paul, and pulled off a 
 reverent cap to him. Paul had served the man 
 at the tent.
 
 422 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 "You run all night?" 
 
 "Yis, your riverence." 
 
 In a brief, cool, accurate word Paul described 
 Clara and her father. 
 
 "I saw 'em, sir! Thought strange of sech nice 
 people in a car at midnight and it rainin'. Said 
 to the conductor, them 's carriage folks. It was 
 the Montreal express, your riv " 
 
 Paul dashed into the station, caught at the fly- 
 ing rail of a car. His foot slipped on the slimy step. 
 
 " My God ! He 's under the wheels ! " It was 
 a shout of many voices. 
 
 But he was not under the wheels, the athlete ! 
 He swung himself clear. He got a foothold. He 
 heard the depot echo with a cheer, but he only 
 showed his back. 
 
 Then the long, the interminable hours of the 
 run to Crosston. Afraid to read the papers for 
 the first hour, yet more afraid of the fever in 
 his brain, he ended by reading, by closely 
 studying every line o every merciful sheet that 
 told, with such gusto of Christian pity, the sad 
 details of a proud man's fall to a Christian 
 public's willing ear. And the accounts were 
 so harmonious, and so truthful ! You never 
 know how truthful, even to the smallest incident, 
 a newspaper is till you yourself are a part of
 
 HAVENS AND NORCROSS. 4 2 3 
 
 an incident and able to verify all the " facts " 
 which it records. After one such experience you 
 wonder that you ever doubted what you have 
 read in the papers. 
 
 It was nightfall when the train reached Cross- 
 ton. A branch train ran in to the village from 
 the main line. The little engine was named 
 " Lemuel Norcross." He owned the rails and 
 the cars, or did once. 
 
 As Paul Havens sprung from the car, Joe 
 Nevada and his father alighted also. They were 
 met by a man whom Paul at once recognized as 
 the town sheriff. But young Havens and the 
 Nevadas had never seen each other ; Havens had 
 never even heard of them ; they had forgotten 
 his name and person ; hence the three gentlemen 
 only stared at each other suspiciously. 
 
 " Got yer wire," said the sheriff. 
 
 Paul, at first, took the remark as addressed to 
 himself, though he had sent no telegram. But 
 in the next breath, hand in hand, the sheriff 
 was unmistakably talking into the greedy faces 
 of the two strangers. 
 
 " He 's here. His darter is with 'im ! Have 
 'em locked into his office ! Sure ! Ha ! ha ! 
 Old Norcross ! To think on it ! Yes ! Hullo 
 Havens!" Suddenly turning to Paul, "I declare!
 
 4 2 4 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 How is that saintly old father of your'n ? Ef 
 ever thare was a good man on arth it 's your 
 daddy. I say, Paul, I 'm mighty tickled tew 
 think that the man as turned your father out 
 of this town, the best man as ever blessed its 
 sile with the sole of his fut " 
 
 " Gillfillian," exclaimed Paul, " come this way. 
 Now, tell me where they are." 
 
 " Oh, we 've got 'em, my boy, locked in his 
 office. He 's wild, sir, sufferin' terrible." 
 
 What else was said by Paul Havens, in a 
 swift five minutes' masonic conversation, no one 
 will ever know. To this day, Havens will never 
 tell. But it was not strange that a country 
 Crosston sheriff should believe a Havens, before 
 all the world. 
 
 " Well, well, my man," said ex-Senator Nevada, 
 the rich man and life-long friend, oh such a 
 friend! of the rich man Norcross, "since you've 
 got him, me an' my son will find a hotel and 
 take a nip you '11 come with us of course if 
 there 's a decent bottle of wine and any thing to 
 eat ' in town. Then we '11 make our attachment." 
 
 ''All right, gentlemen," said the sheriff, sub- 
 missively, with a wink towards Paul. 
 
 Up the hills ! a sleighfull over the spongy 
 snows. Do you see ? Paul Havens is driving.
 
 HAVENS AND NO RC ROSS. 4 2 5 
 
 Clara Havens sits holding the head of a prostrate 
 man, who is very quiet. What servile offices 
 this heroic girl is forced to perform for these 
 maudlin lips ! Dead drunk, sirs and madams, 
 this master of ministers and friend of the Pres- 
 ident ! How she cringes, and can never have 
 done with her weeping nor her kissing of his 
 icy forehead. Every now and then she looks up 
 and gets new strength by saying, 
 
 " But Paul, dear, he is my father ! I can never 
 leave papa ! He has been so good, until of late ! " 
 
 " Yes, darling," Paul responds. " God will not 
 forget it, how you and I have clung to our sires." 
 
 After a long while they turn through pasture 
 bars, into a sheeted upland pasture. How drear 
 is this ghostly midnight ! the two plunging horses 
 with their load like a huge black fly, the only 
 moving thing in this mountainous expanse of 
 desolation. 
 
 It is the old home-farm. This pasture is 
 three thousand feet above the sea at Boston 
 docks where Andrew and all the police are 
 searching for their man. There is no path across 
 the blank Sahara which they traverse. ' The snow 
 is hardened to a crust, which bears them up. 
 They were fearful it would not. 
 
 "Hurrah! It holds! Go!" shouts Paul.
 
 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 On, up, to the distant maple forest, which, like 
 a bushy forelock, bristles on the forehead of 
 mountain. 
 
 It is a " sugar camp." That is, a rude, yet 
 weather-tight building wherein maple sap is being 
 boiled, these days. It is, or was, the property 
 of this ruined man and his wife. Years and 
 years ago Lemuel Norcross " boiled sap " for a 
 living, every spring, right here, a penniless 
 "hired man," and courted the heiress to the 
 farm and in time married her, as you know. 
 The fox is run to his den at last. 
 
 A light gleams out fitfully through the chinks 
 and gaps in the boarding. Wreaths of steam 
 pour out, lurid, from the stone chimney ; but 
 there is no sound. 
 
 "The boy is asleep. Hullo!" Paul shouts it; 
 and, alarmed by the sound, the crows flap off 
 the neighboring aviary of hemlocks five hundred 
 yards away. So clear the air is, so profound 
 the solitude ! 
 
 " Gosh to blazes ! " The red-headed half-sleepy 
 sap-boiler gasps it, suddenly confronting them. 
 
 They find it easy to quiet him ; they get the 
 great manufacturer into the boys' bunk ; they 
 blanket and feed the foaming steeds, though 
 Clara's colts "may die, now we are safe," she says.
 
 HAVENS AND NORCROSS. 4 2 7 
 
 There shall be no portrait of the man's awaken- 
 ing, the next dazed morning, nor of the watchers 
 at his side. This was said, however, 
 
 " Is it true, papa ? " 
 
 " What ? That we are beggars ? " 
 
 " No, sir, but that you have " 
 
 " I know ; do n't say it. It 's true that we are 
 poor as Job's turkey ! Flat ! Here, kiss me. 
 Now, let me think a moment. I am no fool, 
 though I seem to think by jerks, lately." 
 
 " But, papa, are you in danger of arrest ? " 
 
 "I am." 
 
 "Oh, God!" 
 
 But still she clung with arms about him, just 
 the same. He would not let them speak for a 
 long while. His really great powers of mind were 
 being addressed to the task of self-extrication. 
 He sat bowed in fitful, restless thought. At 
 last, he looked up, sprung up, put his hands, with 
 a sort of spasm, one on Paul's and the other on 
 Clara's shoulder. 
 
 " Young man, I owe you every thing for this 
 opportunity to stop and think ; this gaining of 
 time. But, most of all, I owe such worth as 
 yours a most humble confession of my wrong." 
 
 Meanwhile, Havens' moral sense had been 
 awakening. Hitherto he had only acted from the
 
 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 impulse of generous love and pity for all con- 
 cerned. But this word, confession, put a new 
 and startling phase upon things. He must not 
 help to compound any man's felony ! He put up 
 his hands, deprecatingly. He dreaded, yet he 
 must hear. Then, what should he do ? How 
 cruel is life when the doing a good deed so 
 often, for a season, lies entangled with the doing 
 a wrong ! 
 
 " Young man, you do not wish your future 
 wife's father to go to prison." 
 
 " Oh, papa, papa ! " sobbed Clara. 
 
 " Have you committed any crime against the 
 laws of the land, Mr. Norcross?" 
 
 There was something so fateful in the ago- 
 nized, yet righteous, face of the young man, as 
 he dropped the heavy and direct question, word 
 by word, that the older man paused and withheld 
 his answer. He withdrew his hand from Havens' 
 shoulder and stood leaning on his child alone. At 
 length, he broke the silence with, 
 
 "I am not asking you to save me. It is Andrew." 
 
 " But, sir, you must pardon me, that does not 
 answer my question. I know you can understand, 
 fully, why I ask it." 
 
 " Buts and ifs for you, sir. Is n't Andrew Nor- 
 cross worth saving ? The great big innocent ;
 
 HAVENS AAD NORCROSS, 4 2 9 
 
 he 's a bankrupt, too, and without a fault on 
 earth of his own, if you do not obey me. I 
 tell ye, young folks, a great change began to 
 come over that boy with the shock of the news 
 of Paul's supposed death. It sobered him. Busi- 
 ness will sober him more. And and, why, the 
 fellow is oh, God, how like sacrilege such words 
 sound again on my tongue ! Andrew Norcross is 
 trying to feel his way towards is what we used 
 to call, in the happy old days of forty years ago, 
 struck under conviction ; and two or three times 
 in the office, lately, asked me think of it! 
 just how a man found Christ." 
 
 " It 's Puss' beautiful work ! " cried Clara, with 
 fresh and restoring weeping. 
 
 At any other time, such tidings would have 
 melted Paul Havens' heart, also. But not now, 
 no, not now, moved, as he thought he had never 
 been before, by this terrific crisis of love and 
 duty. 
 
 At any other time, he would have been im- 
 pressed by this sad spectacle of an apostate's 
 unspeakable humiliation, in the memory of at- 
 tempting to discipline an inquirer. No doubt 
 it is the lowest abyss of wretchedness. But 
 now, all Paul's mind was bent upon this quest, 
 " Have you broken the law ? "
 
 43 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 " Go tell Senators Takeit and Nevada, that I 
 can, and will, make them whole." 
 
 " I can promise nothing, sir, till I know just 
 what I am doing," was Paul's inflexible reply, 
 his bloodless face written over with his distress, 
 
 " Well, then, would you call lobbying, law- 
 breaking? Say, if money was given, and received? 
 Ah, yes, it was received. Tell those men if 
 they do not cease to pursue me, I will turn on 
 them ; that I have it in black and white, where 
 I have put money in Washington, and perhaps 
 the President may advise 'em, for party reasons, 
 to stop where they are. Oh, it 's a queer world, 
 up among the high joints ! " 
 
 His hands came back, and plunged into his 
 pockets ; his legs were braced to hold this man 
 of iron frame, yet relaxed by fasting, till now 
 weaker than water. His eyes stared hard on 
 Paul. 
 
 " Do n't answer, now, my dear Paul, do n't, 
 do n't ! " cried Clara, throwing her arms about 
 her lover's neck. " Think how papa has called 
 me your future wife, at last. Think what a 
 strange world it is ; how nothing is quite right, 
 here on earth ; no, not quite right. What would 
 you do, if it were your father, Paul ? Now, 
 do n't answer ; but go do it. Take the ponies,
 
 HAVENS AND NORCROSS. 431 
 
 and do get to a telegraph-office, sending poor 
 mamma word." 
 
 " No," put in her father. " Send no dispatches, 
 but leave us here, and go yourself. Nevada has, 
 doubtless, already attached the mills and returned 
 to Boston. He 's great on Pinkerton's detective 
 agency ; has probably sent them after me ; of 
 course they'll find me " 
 
 "They'll never take you, sir, while I live!" 
 It was this glorious girl ; and she transferred her 
 wings and feathers from lover to father, instantly ; 
 he was not a large man ; she was able to give 
 him ample embrace. 
 
 " As I was saying," he went on, " they will 
 find me within a week, or so. Therefore, make 
 haste. Tell Bill he 's a ruined man, if all debts 
 are paid, and they can be, must be. But his 
 son, Andrew, should have half a million equity, 
 which must be protected." And he rapidly 
 sketched a plan by which Andrew might hope 
 righteously to regain control of the Crosston 
 mills. " Bill's two girls and wife must have two 
 hundred and fifty thousand each ; so Bill 's all 
 right. And he 's getting old, any way. As for 
 me, I 'm out. Disgrace never lets up. But I '11 
 never go to prison ! " 
 
 What a wretched scene it was ! This man of
 
 43 2 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 sublime mental gifts, the creator of perhaps the 
 foremost manufacturing concern in America, this 
 master of the politics of a great state, and the 
 acknowledged intimate of the rulers of his native 
 land ; more than that, this once honored Chris- 
 tian believer, builder of churches and seminaries, 
 the trusted lay adviser of high-titled clergy ; this 
 father of that sweet child, oh, bitterest disgrace 
 of all! who nestled her head on his breast, and 
 seemed to lend her eyes to him, in that gaze 
 that waited on Paul's reply ; and before his own 
 child a trembling fugitive. 
 
 "I prophesy, children," poor Norcross said, "a 
 long procession of honorable defaulters, about 
 these times. The inordinate love of money has 
 done it. The secret apostasy from the religion 
 of our boyhood has made it possible." 
 
 The two young people listened, for the most 
 part, to his bitter self-upbraidings almost in si- 
 lence. It seemed to the younger man the great- 
 est kindness he could render the man whom pity 
 was teaching him to love. 
 
 " Havens, she tells me you are free," Mr. Nor- 
 cross began again. " No ecclesiastical tribunal 
 could arraign you for your acts. I know full 
 well how busy the churches and church-journals 
 will now be in washing all traces of Lemuel
 
 HAVENS AND NORCROSS. 433 
 
 Norcross from their hands. It might have been 
 well, had they dared to busy themselves with this 
 fool of a rich man before : but he was too strrong, 
 then, to be called to account for non-attendance 
 at prayer meetings and other pious places : of 
 course, all that they could reasonably expect of 
 him was the honor of his name on their church 
 rolls. Well, now, do as you think best, my boy." 
 The hardest tasks are sometimes performed the 
 most readily. The very majesty of a great and 
 critical duty fascinates us, enslaves us. Paul 
 Havens could not now be turned aside from an 
 answer to his question. All the pity, all the 
 love that he bore each and all this troubled 
 group, all his devotion to this lovely girl, could 
 not swerve him. He had a sickening sense of 
 misery to come, if the man should by his an- 
 swer tie his hands. But yet he returned to it 
 
 * 
 with mechanical repetition. 
 
 " It is not for such a sin as bribery, sir, vul- 
 gar and common enough, that you have fled 
 hither, or these men pursue you. I ask again, 
 have you wrongfully appropriated to your own use 
 money belonging to these men, or any man ? " 
 
 "No!" 
 
 "Whr.t, then, h your debt?"
 
 434 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 " Do you call God to witness ? " 
 
 "I dare and do ! " 
 
 And upon that lie of a desperate man, .Paul 
 Havens turned to go upon his generous way of 
 rescue and work for the recovery of all. As he 
 looks back on the scene now, he remembers how 
 strongly and yet strangely he felt that the 
 wretched man must have been speaking the 
 truth ; every sacred sanction possible to move a 
 man seemed present to move Norcross to speak 
 the truth. It was indeed a " gambler's debt," 
 but of that sort of " gambling " which in lower 
 strata is called cheating, but among great 
 operators and their ring, in this age of 
 speculation, has too often been allowed to escape 
 its just deserts. Alas, who can predict the deeps 
 to which a once honored and honorable man 
 descends at last in ways of modern peculation ? 
 Norcross was both lying and driveling prayers in 
 the same breath ! 
 
 Clara put up her face for his parting salutation, 
 saying, 
 
 " You will come back for him ? " 
 
 " You will surely come back for her ? " echoed 
 Lemuel Norcross. 
 
 Paul answered, "As sure as God lets me live!" 
 He turned to begin the long journey.
 
 HAVENS AND NORCROSS. 435 
 
 Father and daughter watched him as, on the 
 lurching, slumping ox-sled, he began the slow 
 descent of the mountain. The horses had been 
 sent to the farm-house with which confidential 
 communications had been established, for food 
 and other necessaries, with a few articles of 
 comfort. Father and daughter watched Paul, as 
 he finally struck off across the glistening snow, 
 against the red west of late afternoon. How 
 little the hopeful young rescuer knew that he 
 had looked on Lemuel Norcross' face for the 
 last time !
 
 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 DISHONORED 
 
 4 1 r I ^HEY think he 's gone to the queen's do- 
 -*- minions," said the obliging sheriff, as 
 Paul took the train. " The chaps has got hooks 
 on the mills ; and the Pinkies are chasm' game 
 to Canada." 
 
 This was all Paul needed to know, and almost 
 all he did know, sleeping youth's tired slumber, 
 till the train rumbled into Boston, the next morn- 
 ing. He lost no time in making his way to Com- 
 monwealth Avenue. 
 
 Never a quicker family-muster than that which, 
 in morning-wrappers and house-jackets, flutters and 
 stalks into the library, at the tidings, " Mr. Ha- 
 vens ! " It is better than breakfast ; every one is 
 on hand, instantly, except Puss, but probably she 
 will be right down. 
 
 " Found ! Safe and sound ! " 
 
 " Hurrah ! " It is boisterous, generous-hearted 
 Andrew, whose blood is thicker than water, af- 
 ter all. 
 
 " Hush ! " It is William Norcross.
 
 DISHONORED* 
 
 " Oh, God be praised ! Tell me, tell me, 
 tell me ! " It is Clara's mother, almost in hys- 
 terics. 
 
 "Hush! sister, hush! Remember." It is the 
 gentle mother of this home ; and she half turns 
 to fly back up the stairs, but pauses at their foot, 
 listening in two directions. 
 
 Paul told his story. 
 
 "Exactly!" was William Norcross' comment, as 
 he heard the reading of his brother's able plan 
 for Andrew's recovery of the property. " Send for 
 our lawyer. I '11 turn over all I have, and let 's be 
 at it." A messenger was dispatched for the head 
 clerk, the bookkeeper, and the attorney, at once. 
 Then the clean old man, breakfast untouched, 
 hands clasped behind him, face scarlet, great veins 
 swollen across his temples, walked the floor im- 
 patiently, murmuring, 
 
 "God is good! He shall keep our honor. My 
 poor brother ! " 
 
 As he came to the last of this triple burthen 
 of his tongue for the twentieth time, the broth- 
 er's wife, who, with Paul Havens, had sunk down 
 unobserved and almost fainting, by the window, 
 caught at the old man's dressing-gown, with, 
 
 " Yes, yes. I should say so. Your poor 
 brother ! My husband and child ! "
 
 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 "Why, haven't you gone in to breakfast, yet.?" 
 asked Andrew, in a rough attempt at comforting 
 her. " Bless you, auntie," and he kissed her. 
 
 "If you please, good folk," Paul seized on 
 the moment. " As your hands will be full of 
 property questions, suppose you leave these Ne- 
 vadas, Takeits, etc., to me." 
 
 " Why, yes, my boy," was the old gentleman's 
 excited reply. "Here, I'll enlist Governor Blank, 
 our attorney, and any number of no. The gov- 
 ernor and yourself are enough. Take the car- 
 riage. I 'd go, but, while I know these men, my 
 poor brother kept all these dark matters from 
 ray knowledge. I suspected much of late, but 
 knew nothing. I should hinder you. Stay ; so 
 would the governor. Go alone ; to the Parker 
 House ; take only my card ; no, not even that ; 
 introduce yourself by that scrap of Lem's hand- 
 writing, his memorandum ! " 
 
 Just then his wife was passing through the 
 room, having descended, evidently, from the floor 
 above. The old gentleman looked up anxiously 
 into her face, and asked, " How does shu seem, 
 mother ? " 
 
 " Resting quietly, and she heard the good news 
 so sweetly. It has been self last with her, so 
 much of late." And the speaker's eyes filled.
 
 DISHONORED. 439 
 
 " Forgive me," exclaimed Paul. " How stupid 
 I have been ! Your daughter is not well ? " 
 There was a genuine sympathy in that tone, but 
 there was a deeper pang in the young fellow's 
 heart. 
 
 "Dear Puss!" her mother responded. "You 
 may not know that she has been frail ever since 
 we went abroad. The shock of this trouble al- 
 most destroyed her ; we thought her dying, the 
 night after you left ; she seems very peaceful, 
 and at rest, now, but ' You know what a 
 mother would do next, quenching her speech. 
 
 Paul started up ; but who was he, to be in- 
 vited into the sick chamber of this young lady ? 
 Besides, her father and Clara's mother, in one 
 breath, put in, 
 
 " You have no time to lose, my dear Mr. Ha- 
 vens. Eat something, and be ready for the car- 
 riage." 
 
 " Oh, for the love of heaven, make haste ! 
 That wretched, weather-beaten sugar-lodge ! " 
 
 If Havens ate anything, he can not since re- 
 call the fact. 
 
 He was shortly in the carriage, rolling towards 
 the Parker House. 
 
 As shrewd Lemuel Norcross had guessed,
 
 440 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 Nevada had brought Senator Takeit back with him. 
 A man's a man, and wants his money ; yet a 
 man may be a careful politician and want to be 
 President, you know, by and by. It will not 
 do to make an unsavory stench in New England. 
 
 "Takeit, how shall we manage this matter? 
 Then, you know, Takeit, that my Joe has set 
 his heart on Boston society, and we do n't want 
 to be too hard on any body here. Ain't there 
 consid'r'bl' respect for t 'other Norcross here in 
 town? Yet, this wretched Lem ! he's euchred me! 
 He 's lied to me ! I can't stand a liar. He 's 
 deceived me. And, with all my faults, the man 
 don't live who can charge a Nevada with goin' 
 back on a friend ! Nevada bought in for a rise. 
 I knew he was hard up, but I did n't s'pose 
 he 'd dare draw a worthless check or lie on his 
 own stock-book." 
 
 Senator Takeit, Senator Nevada, Joe Nevada, 
 this was the party, breakfasting in a private 
 parlor, to whom Paul Havens' strange card was 
 taken. Breakfasting ? Well, it was mostly lique- 
 fying, solids not being relished, after last night, 
 till later in the day. Joe Nevada, already done 
 with the table, sat heels in the window, tran- 
 quilly smoking. 
 
 " Havens ? " The old man read the card aloud.
 
 DISHONORED. 44! 
 
 " What ? Havens ? " This from Mr. Joe, thaw- 
 ing out enough to drop heels to floor. " Why, 
 that's her real name!" 
 
 " Whose name, sonny ? " 
 
 " That 's the real name of Miss Rose Rockle, 
 the sublime young actress that I 've been raving 
 about." 
 
 "You raving, indeed!" laughed Takeit. "Ice 
 burning." 
 
 Still, there you have it, reader. These gentle- 
 men had rested themselves last evening at the 
 opera, where Bella Havens stage name as 
 above was playing some minor part, the old 
 story of hope deferred, though not of heart quite 
 yet faint. 
 
 " Show the gentleman up. One of the local boys, 
 I s'pose," said the elder Nevada. " Clear away." 
 
 Through the wiping of whiskers, Paul was 
 greeted with, " Ah, Mr. Havens. Glad to meet 
 you. Take a seat." Then introductions, offer of 
 drinks or cigars. What, neither ? And such a 
 clean face, clean eye, clean complexion, powerful 
 buikl, yet so quiet. Evidently not one of the 
 boys. Difficult to know what to say first to 
 him. Visitor himself not embarrassed, but evi- 
 dently self-repressed, like a big white cloud that 
 may have thunder in it.
 
 44 2 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 " Gentlemen, I come from unhappy Lemuel 
 Norcross!" Oh! There's the thunder clap. 
 
 "The you do!" What a shock to this 
 
 father of his country, member of the paternal up- 
 per house ! How cruel; for it was too early in the 
 morning. The paternal member never gets on 
 helmet, shield, and sword before twelve, noon. 
 
 " Yes. He and his brother propose to sur- 
 render, without contest, so much of the property 
 as is their own to satisfy your claim," etc., etc. 
 
 "The dog. Where is he?" 
 
 "He has been your friend." 
 
 "Friend! Ha, ha! There's millions in that, 
 Takeit," slapping the other senatorial back. Then 
 sternly, " Where is he ? " 
 
 " That I decline to answer." 
 
 " Then you know ? I '11 " and he reached 
 
 for the bell button. 
 
 " Do n't do that, sir," answered Paul. " Calm 
 yourself and listen. Andrew Norcross has an 
 equity in that concern. It ought to be pro- 
 tected." 
 
 " I '11 fight it ! I '11 fight it ! " 
 
 "No, you will not, father, if you wish to carry 
 New England." Very cool, this other young 
 man's tone. 
 
 " I vow I will, and I '11 have, this young villain,
 
 DISHONORED. 443 
 
 here, arrested within five minutes, as an accom- 
 plice of the thief Norcross ! " The great man's 
 watch chain clanked on his round person, and 
 the air was- sulphurous with words that I have 
 omitted. Ah, how safe the country is in these 
 strong hands ! Let the little children pray on, 
 every night at cradle sides, " God bless our 
 native land ! " 
 
 Paul Havens stirred not a muscle as the en- 
 raged man waddled up to him and laid a hand 
 on his coat collar. The coat collar was just a 
 little thread-bare, the garment was neat enough, 
 but there are limits to what you can expect of 
 a coat with the utmost care, two years, for in- 
 stance. Paul's business the doing -men -good 
 business didn't pay as well as the senator's 
 business, the doing-men business. Shrewd sena- 
 tor ! he had noticed that coat. He who would 
 be President of the United States, these days, 
 must notice coats. 
 
 " Take your hand off, man ! " Havens' tone 
 was soft and low enough. 
 
 Mr. Joe Nevada, looking on from his seat by 
 the window, had seen the world, you remember ; 
 and that soft, low tone alarmed him at once. 
 It is the alarming kind. With a bound he was 
 between the two lowering men. "Father! Re-
 
 444 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 strain yourself. We want no vulgar encounter 
 with this gentleman." 
 
 Whereat the hand that steadies the helm of 
 this most Christian state fell off, though rather 
 reluctantly, from Paul Havens' neck. 
 
 "Now then, gentlemen," Havens resumed, a 
 smile, half of vexation, half of amusement, play- 
 ing about his lips, "no doubt I was too abrupt; 
 but really, my business is such that introductions 
 and preliminaries are, in the nature of the case, 
 painful all round. Yet, I should have given you 
 references, probably ; for myself, I can refer you 
 to the mayor of this city, to his excellency ex- 
 Governor Blank, and to almost any of our city 
 clergymen. But, gentlemen, as I have documents 
 in the hand-writing of Lemuel Norcross himself, 
 which you must at once easily recognize, and as 
 this is a painful family matter, on our side at 
 least, really now, I could wish that we might 
 get at the business ourselves. Some privacy would 
 be very gratefully regarded." 
 
 "By all means, Mr. pardon me; the name?" 
 
 asked Joe Nevada, all politeness, extending his 
 hand. 
 
 "Havens," replied Paul, cordially grasping the 
 proffered hand. 
 
 "Take a seat, Mr. Havens," resumed young
 
 DISHONORED. 4 -1 5 
 
 Nevada. "Father, all you have to do is to send 
 for the lawyer a trifle earlier. There," drawing 
 and turning the chairs for his sire and the other 
 senator, at the same time touching the call bell, 
 " I will venture, father, to write at once on my 
 card for you. Your hand trembles a little. I 
 doubt not we can have the attorney here within 
 fifteen minutes. Eh, Mr. Takeit ? " , 
 
 "Exactly," was the other senator's reply. " I 
 am the last man to want to impede peaceable 
 councils," with as sincere a laugh as ever shook 
 a man's sides. " For, to tell the truth, I 've been 
 in a mighty pickle. What with my district on 
 one side, and you, old feller," with a tap of his 
 fingers that held a fresh-lighted cigar on the 
 broad back of the older Nevada, " on the other 
 side, zounds ! I sh'd ha' been in hot water sure. 
 Peace is my motto. Ha ! ha ! " Now all broad 
 smiles, cigar in lips, coat caught up by hands that 
 strained into his tight pockets, and face turned 
 up benignantly on the peacefully curling wreaths 
 of thin smoke. After which the lawyers came ; 
 noon came ; and afternoon, the evening, but the 
 peaceful solution not yet, though evidently coming. 
 
 " Can't give up seein' the liar in prison ! " 
 This often from the former bosom-friend of 
 " Lem Norcross."
 
 446 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 " How like thunder you millionaires love each 
 other, do n't ye, when ye fall out ? " This or 
 some similar banter from the good-natured Takeit, 
 always ready and prompt to the rescue of the 
 trio of young fellows now working in harmony. 
 
 " But he 's ruined for life, you know, any 
 way," said the leading lawyer, with a snap of 
 his fingers, taking his cue from Takeit, though 
 his fee from Nevada senior. 
 
 " He will reside in Europe, no doubt, gentle- 
 men," said Joe Nevada. 
 
 " That 's the checker ! " exclaimed Takeit. 
 " Nor cross the seas again ! " 
 
 " I b'lieve you 'd joke at a funeral, Takeit ! " 
 growled old Nevada, amid the oh's and ah's. 
 
 At which the astute and jesting peacemaker 
 shook his sides again and winked to the attor- 
 neys all round. " He 's thawing out, gentlemen. 
 Known him for years. Never mind my non- 
 sense ; go ahead with your affairs. Nevada can't 
 quite endure a liar, and a feller who deceives 
 him " 
 
 " Struck it to a hair ! " roared the gentleman 
 in question, with a gratified thump on the 
 table, 
 
 " But this is a matter involving justice to 
 several innocent persons," said Paul Havens ;
 
 DISHONORED. 
 
 "and, as I understand it, Norcross himself is 
 innocent of actual fraud." 
 
 "Right!" was Takeit's ready help, while a 
 curious smile ran round. "And when," rising 
 and throwing it over his shoulder, "when cLl 
 a Nevada ever refuse a fellow-man justice? I 
 Take-it, never ! " The senatorial humor gradu- 
 ally won its way. Happy man he ! A peace- 
 maker of a noble type, with real milk or brandy 
 and water of human kindness in his veins. 
 " Will reside out of the country. Excellent ! " 
 No more that whip-cracking over his senatorial 
 head. The best-fed slave sometimes likes to 
 change masters. 
 
 So we go hitching along, the lawyers help- 
 ing. But there are to be several days of this 
 hitching along before matters of millions and 
 justice and "punishment" to the wicked are 
 fixed all around. Havens comes and goes like 
 a shuttle with a silver thread, meanwhile. 
 
 "No actual fraud?" growled Senator Nevada, 
 as the last check and voucher were exchanged, 
 one day. "Young man," putting his heavy palm 
 on Paul Havens' shoulder, " that was the phrase 
 you let drop here a week ago or so, when we 
 began this business. I saw at a glance that you 
 were a tenderfoot. But now that I 've got my
 
 44^ DOLLARS AND 
 
 money, I '11 show you what a thief this Lem 
 Norcross actually was. Look a' there ! " and he 
 spread out the dishonored stock-book of the 
 Crosston mills, wherein the over-issue to Nevada 
 & Co. lay open to the light of day. "That's 
 the stuff the fellow gave me when he took 
 chances on our Colorado properties. Here, take 
 it ; it 's Andrew Norcross' property now, free and 
 clear. Straighten it out. But I tell ye, you '11 
 never see that precious scamp again." 
 
 Let us drop the veil of pity here. Let us 
 not attempt to describe the chagrin, yes, the 
 agony of shame which this actual knowledge 
 threw on Paul Havens. 
 
 But it was all past. He had intended no 
 complicity in the defaulter's escape ; he had him- 
 self been a victim of the fallen man's falsehood ; 
 and, in the person of his future wife, must ever 
 help to bear some portion of the family shame.
 
 OUT OF LIFE INTO LIFE. 449 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 OUT OF LIFE INTO LIFE. 
 
 E AN WHILE, a different company was gath- 
 *** ering each clay at- the residence on Com- 
 monwealth Avenue. Puss Norcross is about taking 
 a long journey, and many are gathered daily in 
 her room to say good-bye. She has no discov- 
 erable disease, it is rather the touch of an angel's 
 wing, from which no one ever recovers. Thank 
 God ! that touch makes it impossible for a mortal 
 to stay on earth ; a mere brush, a gentle fanning 
 every day, every night, of an angelic wing. 
 
 It was a sunny going away, out of life into 
 life. The breath of the May mornings were freely 
 admitted to the opened dwelling. The living air 
 of each daybreak was vocal with the minstrelsy 
 of birds who, northward journeying towards rural 
 uplands, always pause for a city season of con- 
 certing. The only beauty of the city's summer is 
 May. It was always Puss's favorite season, and 
 never more so than now. She sits much in her 
 chair, rich-robed, white hands, like alabaster, 
 features composed in smiles not of this world,
 
 45 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 all in such grace of frailty that she reminds you 
 of lace drapery at a window through which the 
 evening stars might shine. 
 
 " Bring them in," she whispers. She means 
 the fresh flowers from the conservatory ; '.hey 
 come every morning, and she watches the garcl- 
 ner as he banks them, braids them, bunches and 
 festoons them, the adorning for her bridal. Poor 
 man, the old florist, I mean, his eyes yet full 'of 
 tears often, for he can not understand it. But this 
 bride says, " Peter, you shall see, for once, how 
 true the Christian's hope is: to die is gain." 
 
 "Bring them in," she softly murmurs, all 
 smiles, and every afternoon, when her strength is 
 firmest, a troop of little children come. They 
 bring garlands on garlands of blessings from the 
 attics of the poor. They have been cautioned 
 bclow-stairs not to cry ; but up-stairs they could 
 not shed a tear it is all sunshine, joy, ripple 
 of laughter, carol of silver songs and clapping 
 hands. So the immortals ought to go, to their 
 own place, children, "with songs and everlasting 
 joys upon their heads." This is the logic of a 
 life, little ones, and ye will not forget it, though 
 you forget the logic of many labored sermons. 
 
 She sits in the flush of the evening like a 
 prophetess, and seems to be reading the signs
 
 OUT OF LIFE INTO LIFE. 451 
 
 in the rich-hucd western sunsets. Tender tints 
 glow on her satin robes, and satin hands and 
 face, as if the tidings were flung out to her 
 through the gates of evening, from One whom 
 the others can not see. "I am he who was 
 dead, and behold I am alive forevermore." 
 
 "Yes, yes," murmur the white-whiskered lips of 
 her father. "The Faith of the Ages, darling!" 
 
 But no one weeps ; it is against the law, the 
 eternal law which few mortals can obey. 
 
 "I prophesy that to-morrow, dear boys" so 
 she addresses the much-perplexed Andrew and 
 Paul "those gentlemen, or the courts," as the 
 case might be, for she kept closely informed, 
 "will do thus and so. Every clay a little nearer." 
 
 It is not mine to explain how she foreknew, 
 but to record the fact. This prophetess read out 
 the victories of each day. 
 
 " Glorious woman ! " Paul exclaimed one even- 
 ing, almost rushing in with his glad tidings, 
 "your brother has got his rights!" 
 
 She smiled on "the unselfish man," as he 
 kissed her hand. 
 
 "Sister! Sister! I have a chance again!" It 
 was Andrew, as he flung his arms about her. 
 
 Then they explained to her that Andrew would 
 be permitted to succeed to and go on with the
 
 45 2 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 mills at Crosston with his father, "provided he 
 had the commercial ability." 
 
 "I knew it," she calmly remarked, "my brother 
 has the ability. He will address himself to a 
 man's task now. Paul, I wonder if your bright 
 sister would come to see me ? Bella, I mean. 
 Invite her to accompany your saintly father and 
 mother to-morrow, will you ? Tell her this is the 
 chamber of life, not of death." Her soft, thin 
 hand was patting Andrew's bushy head, as it lay 
 against her knee." 
 
 "My sister" softly yet with deep emotion the 
 bowed youth speaks "could you tell me the way 
 to find your Christ? I I have no such heaven 
 before my eyes as you are nearing I seem 
 likely to live long and with all these added 
 burdens, this great business, could Christ some- 
 how I think one needs him, even more to live 
 well than to die well." 
 
 "If such is your thought, Andrew, Christ must 
 have already found you, for these are not the 
 thoughts of the natural heart." 
 
 "Found me, sweet sister?" He looks up fer- 
 vently to exclaim it. "Does Christ first seek 
 us mortals?" 
 
 "It is so written, dear brother. He is the 
 Shepherd who goes to find his sheep."
 
 OUT OF LIFE INTO LIFE. 453 
 
 "Why, then, Puss, I have but to be found of 
 him? To say, 'Here am I, my Saviour'?" The 
 young man had slipped from the hassock at her 
 feet to his knees at her knee. 
 
 " That is all, Andrew. Being saved is faith's 
 self-surrender to the Crucified One." 
 
 "Oh, my sister,' so soon to go to dwell with 
 him, you who have known this Christ so long, 
 while I bow, speak you the words for me, and pray 
 him to receive me, while I stammer out Amen." 
 
 While they were at prayer the door opened, 
 and Sylvester Havens entered. The aged clergy- 
 man came often nowadays, and was always a 
 blessing. Indeed, all the Havens family came 
 often of late. You should have heard the sym- 
 phonies, struck from the harps of these two 
 hearts, as old Pastor Havens sat long and sunny 
 hours in conversation with this woman. 
 
 " Good morning, sweet child. Life is a pil- 
 grimage." 
 
 " Good morning, dear servant of Jesus. Life 
 is as a tale that is told." 
 
 "Life is Christ, dear child, and to die is 
 gain." And then she explained Andrew's joy. 
 
 Often then, when her human heart could 
 not quite contain itself, and it being unlawful 
 to weep in that bright chamber, Minnie, the
 
 454 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 sister, would descend to the drawing-room and 
 touch the piano. The welcome melody floating 
 up with overture of joy, ardently loved by this 
 invalid whose passion was music, would seem 
 like the echo of the far-away song, the New 
 Song, which you and I have never heard, reader. 
 
 Every day the flush of the spring came over 
 Bella Havens' ice-fields in the soul. But as yet 
 there were no green grasses nor flowers. 
 
 " It will be all right to-morrow ! " one June 
 evening, Puss had added to this usual remark ; 
 " for to-morrow Uncle Lem and Clara are com- 
 ing back from Crosston." 
 
 Out of pity they have never told her the 
 worst. She is never to know that Lemuel Nor- 
 cross has sunk into a dishonored grave. 
 
 " Caged up in their great lonely mansion there 
 in the village for weeks, what a noble daughter 
 that dear child has been to that sick man ! 
 They tell me wonderful things of her heavenly 
 ministry to her father. I shudder to think what 
 might have been, had she not spread her wings, 
 like a night bird, and flown after him, that 
 terrible midnight. And how happy it will be for 
 such a man, your Paul, to have such a wife ! " 
 
 Look at them, Puss and Clara meeting the 
 next morning; though no eye saw them then
 
 OUT OF LIFE INTO LIFE. 455 
 
 save Paul Havens', who stood regarding these 
 two young women in their greetings. The one 
 in her chair, the other risen now from her 
 kneeling, and standing, in full bloom, at the 
 other's side. The one, like the lace through 
 which the evening star could shine. The other, 
 glowing, substantial flesh and blood, on whom 
 the morning sun was shining. What is this 
 strange thing called beauty ? for both of these 
 wear beauty like a garment ; perfect each, won- 
 derful each, yet as unlike as two different worlds. 
 Ah, that is it ; it is a matter of two different 
 worlds. "The glory of the celestial is one, the 
 glory of the terrestrial is another." 
 
 "Come, Paul." Puss reached out and took his 
 hand as he approached. " I may tell you now, 
 Paul Havens, that I have loved you, very dearly.'-' 
 
 Paul bowed himself over the hand, and kissed 
 it with unutterable emotion. 
 
 "And now I am so happy to join your hands. 
 Clara, your house on the avenue is almost done, 
 they tell me." 
 
 " But, precious cousin " then the lips 
 
 melted like wax and could not go on. 
 
 "I know," Puss continued, "you think you 
 are a beggar. You suppose the house went to 
 pay your papa's debts. I bought it. Dear
 
 456 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 Andrew got the deed for me. It is now in 
 your name. I have talked it all over with 
 papa. I have left all I have, and it is a large, 
 sum, you know, to you and Paul." 
 
 " Never!" 
 
 "Never!" 
 
 " Hush ! It is done. Paul Havens can now 
 be pastor to the city's poor and take no wages ! 
 See ? And you, dear girl, will have just this to 
 do, namely : to make his home a sunny place 
 every evening as he comes wearily in from the 
 unsunned abodes of the city's misery. For years 
 and years he will toil, and I shall be looking 
 down. I have happiness beyond telling. I endow 
 no asylum. His heart is the asylum of a hundred 
 thousand of the city's blind. I build no church. 
 He is the church, the unnamed, unclaimed church, 
 for all the weary and heavy-laden, and he is founded 
 on him who went about doing good any good 
 he could ! Kiss me ! Now leave me for a while." 
 
 They kissed her and left her for a while. 
 Even yet it seems only a little while. A very 
 little while for so much peace and joy to have 
 come to so many hearts. 
 
 A little while it seems to Bella Havens, not 
 an actress after all, bending now her high cour- 
 age to be a fit help-meet to her husband, An-
 
 OUT OF LIFE INTO LIFE. 457 
 
 drew Norcross, in his Crosston toil ; a very lit- 
 tle while since the flame of that young Christian 
 life caught hers and burned up all its bitterness. 
 
 A little while, Pastor Havens, since, after all, 
 from the hands of a disciple was flung to you 
 the price of bread and shelter for your old ,age 
 in the neat suburban home ; where you sit 
 daily in the warm sun of your boy's rising honors, 
 and whisper to him of sweet humility. 
 
 A little while, Joe Nevada, senators, presidents 
 but why mention them ? Forgotten in such 
 a little while, a very little while. The swift mu- 
 tations that overwhelm a silver mine did it. 
 The Nevadas have exhausted their vein. Their 
 names have long since been chalked off the 
 bulletin at the Exchange. 
 
 If Nora and her husband, good Stephen Crane, 
 shall return this season, as is expected, having 
 completed their first ten successful years, and so 
 having earned their right to vacation in their 
 native land, why then Paul Havens' splendid resi- 
 dence the one which Clara built, you remem- 
 berwill be opened to such a fond reception, 
 and so many of " our best people " will throng 
 to honor Havens' invitation, the bronzed mission- 
 aries will almost tremble for "the pride of life." 
 
 Yet Paul Havens and Clara, his wife, the grace-
 
 DOLLARS AND DUTY. 
 
 ful hostess of many such meetings of " the best 
 circles," are not leaders in Vanity Fair. This 
 young man, busy about his old errands doing 
 men any good and munificent with his wealth, 
 has succeeded to the benevolent and social lead- 
 ership, which the aged William Norcross resigned. 
 
 Over and over again, Paul's aged mother, fon- 
 dling his only child, exclaims, "My beautiful boy, 
 would to God you may live to take up the min- 
 istry ; such ministry as your father's. Live to do 
 any good you can to man ! " 
 
 And the beautiful, proud mother of the child, 
 beams on them her approval. This charming 
 wife I caught sight of her this evening, stand- 
 ing just within the curtains of her wide windows, 
 and revealed against the flash of evening grate, 
 as she watched for his coming welcomes Paul 
 Havens, the untitled, unsalaried toiler, with good 
 cheer ; for she knows that he bends his back 
 all day like a laboring man, among the poor, the 
 sick, the idle, and the vicious, his only business 
 doing men any possible good, to body, and mind, 
 and spirit, in a great city, where his sort of busi- 
 ness is never slack. 
 
 Try it, some of you rich men, who do not 
 know what to do with yourselves, and who are 
 tired of the club.