OF CALIF. LIBRARY, LOS ANGELES
 
 HESTER BLAIR 
 
 THE ROMANCE OF 
 A COUNTRY GIRL 
 
 With Illustrations by 
 CHARLES H. STEPHENS 
 
 BOSTON 
 
 C. M. Clark Publishing Company 
 1902
 
 Copyright, 1902, by 
 
 C. M. CLARK PUBLISHING COMPANY, 
 Boston, Mass., U. S. A. 
 
 Entered at Stationers' HaU, London, 
 Foreign copyrights secured. 
 
 Bights of Translation, Public Reading 
 and Dramatization reserved. 
 
 PRESSWORK BY 
 S. J. PARKHILL & Co., BOSTON, U. S. A.
 
 To My Sister 
 
 21 8680
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. Love wanders far afield 1 
 
 II. Slack's recreant wooing- 21 
 
 III. Love's champion: "Then it's war?" 33 
 
 IV. " My love, my only love, my wife! " 43 
 
 V. A secret that a little child can keep 57 
 
 VI. "Ho, Slacky! Yer don't say yer start ter- 
 
 morrer ? " 68 
 
 VII. Hester hears of Slack's pleasantries with the 
 
 coachman 82 
 
 VIII. Mrs. Pendleton: " And they madly love each 
 
 other! " 95 
 
 IX. The reception 106 
 
 X. " My promise! Just Heaven, point me the 
 
 way ! " 122 
 
 XI. The day following Featherly's death 136 
 
 XII. Slack's return to Norton 144 
 
 XIII. Sally Pitts asks questions of Slack 155 
 
 XIV. Love grows not less by waiting 166 
 
 XV. " I am the daughter of Henry Blair " 178 
 
 XVI. Mrs. St. Just and Mrs. Houseman exchange 
 
 confidences 189 
 
 XVII. In the church. "I am the country lover". . 202 
 v
 
 vi Contents 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 XVIII. Slack plans a trip into the woods for Fenton 214 
 
 XIX. Fenton's plans miscarry 224 
 
 XX. Hester's homecoming 235 
 
 XXI. Millie speaks her mind 247 
 
 XXII. Betty McDonald's tangled love affairs 259 
 
 XXIII. Millie answers Slack for the 999th time 268 
 
 XXIV. John fights for the woman he loves 278 
 
 XXV. John's recovery 290 
 
 XXVI. " It is better that you forget " 298 
 
 XXVII. The morning of the 27th 309 
 
 XXVIII. " 'Twill remind me how well I loved you".. 320 
 
 XXIX. Love's reward.. 331
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 " John Carey approached the house ; and 
 pausing, looked into the window." Page 31. 
 
 " At length the import of what was taking 
 place began to dawn upon her." Page 65. 
 
 "The Butler recognized her at a glance." 
 
 Page 141. 
 
 "It is a lie!" Page 205. 
 
 " It was no time for talk action, imme- 
 diate action was necessary." Page 289. 
 
 "I I cannot say." Page 345.
 
 PREFACE 
 
 A PREFACE to an author's first work might, it seems to me, 
 be deemed an impertinence. However, new authors, 
 young or old in years, if not in judgment, have a last word 
 to say; and, in my opinion, most improperly say it in the form 
 of an introduction to their work. It were better, perhaps, 
 with justice to himself and his readers, that his foreword embody 
 an apology. What right has he to presume on the reader's pa- 
 tience or good- nature ? Most assuredly, none; and yet and 
 yet I have a story to tell. It is a simple tale, as life is simple, 
 yet running through it, the veins, eddies, and undercurrents that 
 make our lives more or less complex. Each of us knows a Hes- 
 ter, a John Gary or a Slack. They are of the common, every- 
 day sort of people. I have endeavored to paint them as they 
 are of flesh and blood. This is a plain tale of love, of joy, of 
 suffering. However, it may be I have failed in the telling. 
 Perhaps I have told too little, perhaps too much; yet still 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 44 Broadway New York City. 
 
 January 1st, 1902.
 
 HESTER BLAIR 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 LOVE WANDERS FAR AFIELD 
 
 Vain Cupid decked with bow and shield 
 
 Stole forth, for passion's flame burned low. 
 Unwary, wandering far afield, 
 
 Love's embers died into a glow. 
 And love, unguarded, slumbered on; 
 
 Returning, Cupid smiling spake: 
 Thy cavalier comes anon, 
 
 Arise to meet him, love, awake. 
 
 LACK DORKINS ! " 
 
 A querulous voice broke the summer 
 stillness. The dying tones were drowned 
 by the suppressed laughter of a group of fisher- 
 men at work mending fishing nets in front of the 
 Blair homestead. Captain Edwards, one of the 
 number, raising his hand to command silence, 
 answered, 
 "Yes, Millie!" 
 
 A laugh followed the captain's attempt at 
 mimicry. Seth Binks' voice interrupted the 
 merriment with: 
 
 "-Slack'll hev ter take it." 
 " Yer kin bet he will ! " responded the captain, 
 as he resumed his work. 
 
 1
 
 2 Hester Blair 
 
 Again the voice from within the house caused 
 a momentary suspension of work. 
 
 " Slack Dorkins, how much longer yer goin' 
 ter keep th' yard cluttered up with them pesky 
 fishin' nets? " 
 
 The captain's unmusical voice sent back the 
 reply : " Most finished, Millie." 
 
 A second wave of merriment rewarded the cap- 
 tain's effort, gradually dying into a suppressed 
 chuckle. He stood up, stretched himself lazily, 
 and, walking to the side of the house, swept the 
 Bay and harbor of Norton with a keen eye. He 
 muttered musingly: 
 
 "What be th' dern cuss a doin'? What's a 
 keepin' 'im? " 
 
 Seth JBinks ceased working. From his hand 
 which he raised in the air, a piece of rope dan- 
 gled. An expression of amused disapproval over- 
 spread his kindly, weatherbeaten features. He 
 looked about at the uncouth, roughly-garbed fish- 
 ermen, and his hand came down on his knee with 
 resounding vehemence. He blurted out: 
 
 " What d'yer s'pose the big lubber did yest'- 
 dey? " 
 
 " Dun know," drawlingly ejaculated one of the 
 listeners, " What? " 
 
 " Refused a ten-dollar note ter take a party 
 outside sailin'." Joe looked his disgust, 
 
 " No ! " exclaimed one of the fishermen doubt- 
 
 " Yes he did," continued Joe, " sed he was en-
 
 Love Wanders Far Afield 3 
 
 gaged, 'n> what d'yer think the big lout hed ter 
 do?" 
 
 " Court Millie," rejoined Seth, " Thet's what 
 he's bin a doin' the most of his time for the past 
 twenty years." 
 
 " No," retorted Joe warmly, " Ther'd be some 
 sense even in courtin' a woman as won't be 
 courted. He hed ter fix a flower-bed fer Hester 
 and Ethy. What d'yer think er thet? " 
 
 Mixed exclamations of disapproval from the 
 fishermen, and a contemptuous grunt from Cap- 
 tain Edwards, voiced their opinion as between 
 a ten-dollar note and fixing a flower-bed. 
 
 " Slack must be crazy ! " volunteered one of 
 the fishermen. 
 
 " Yes," answered Binks, " crazy as a coot ; or 
 p'r'haps he's love-mad ; but if it's er th' kind thet 
 'f ects th' appetite, then Slacky ain't mad ; fer he 
 kin eat more'n any three men in th' county." 
 
 " All's I've got ter say," rejoined Captain Ed- 
 wards warmly, " 's thet ef I wer' Slacky, Millie 
 would marry me, or she wouldn't. I'd hev it set- 
 tled one way or t'other." 
 
 " Hev yer say out," Binks replied. " Yer don't 
 hev it of'n when yer at home." 
 
 Captain Edwards turned on him sharply. 
 " What do yer mean? " 
 
 " O, nothin'," Binks suavely answered. A 
 suppressed chuckle developed into a roar of 
 laughter, and the captain glared defiantly. 
 
 It was well known to everyone in the village
 
 4 Hester Blair 
 
 of Norton, that the captain's cloak of authority 
 was surrendered when he entered his own home. 
 His wife ruled him with an iron hand, unsoft- 
 ened by glove or time ; and the man who had done 
 battle with many a gale, who was absolutely 
 without fear when away from home, quailed be- 
 fore her. Brusque, stern, and unyielding in his 
 intercourse with men, he bowed before her su- 
 perior will. She was known among the villagers 
 as the " Commodore," and answered to the name 
 with becoming condescension. 
 
 The awkward silence that followed was inter- 
 rupted by Portuguese Joe. 
 
 " Well," he said, " I wish ther' wer' more mad 
 ones like Slacky." 
 
 Sally Pitts, the daughter of one of the fisher- 
 men, came from the house, and stood upon the 
 porch. Hearing Slack's name mentioned, she re- 
 mained motionless, in a listening attitude. 
 
 Pen and ink cannot do justice to Sally Pitts : 
 hers was the beauty of the heart, of the mind, of 
 the soul. She was slightly deformed, and walked 
 with a perceptible limp; and her pointed chin, 
 her abnormally high forehead and marked pallor, 
 made her look older than she really was. Her 
 eyes, however, were those of a child of her age, 
 confidingly gentle, and sympathetic in expres- 
 sion. Living alone with her father, who was 
 stern to the verge of brutality, her life was inex- 
 pressibly dreary. Not that she was without 
 friends. To every fisherman in the village she
 
 Love Wanders Far Afield 5 
 
 was related by ties of love, little sister and good 
 fairy to all. No word of complaint was she ever 
 heard to utter; and her father's harsh treatment 
 was only suspected, not known. She was a con- 
 stant visitor at the home of the Blairs, but her 
 visits were marred by her father's unreasoning 
 jealousy. Through drink, he had descended the 
 social ladder, to that level where respectability 
 gives place to sullen indifference; where imag- 
 ination pictures every hand as turned against 
 him, in an effort to make complete his degrada- 
 tion. 
 
 Sally walked slowly to where Joe was sitting, 
 and, as he continued, gently placed one of her 
 white, almost bloodless hands, on his shoulder. 
 
 " When Bill Blake was knocked overboard by 
 the boom of his boat in's rough weather's I wer* 
 ever out in, didn't Slack jump in an' pull 'im 
 aboard, with the chances a thousan' t'one he'd 
 drown hisself ? " 
 
 Sally answered with suppressed excitement, 
 " Yes." 
 
 " An'," continued Joe, " when Bill come to, 
 an' tried ter thank Slacky, what d'yer s'pose th' 
 dern cuss sed?" 
 
 " What did he say? " asked Sally eagerly. 
 
 " Ha ! Ha ! Ha ! " roared Joe, hi* sides shaking 
 with laugh ter, " he sed, ha, ha, ha, he told Bill 
 ef he'd known he'd made seen a dern fuss 'bout 
 it, he'd a let 'im drown." 
 
 Sally joined in the laughter, then plaintively :
 
 6 Hester Blair 
 
 " O, isn't Slacky brave, how I wish I could 
 do something for him." 
 
 Sam Pitts rose from his seat and walked 
 towards his daughter. 
 
 " So yer^d like to do somethin' fer Slack, would 
 yer? S'pose yer begin by doin' somethin' fer me. 
 Ain't I th' fust thet's got a right ter yer? Ain't 
 yer my darter? And a dern pretty one yer air! 
 Didn't I tell yer ter stay at home an' mend my 
 oil-skin coat? " He grasped Sally by the shoulder 
 and shook her roughly. 
 
 " I did mend it, Dad," she faltered, " I came 
 here because Hester sent for me." 
 
 A simultaneous movement was made by the 
 fishermen. Captain Edwards rose threateningly, 
 and turned to Sam. 
 
 " Hold on ther', yer big lubber, leave 'er 
 alone ! " 
 
 Pitts turned on him angrily. 
 
 " What's it ter you ! She's my gal, an' I don't 
 want 'er up here, where every one's a coddlin' 
 'er. By'n by, with 'er fine clothes, an* 'er fine 
 airs, she won't know 'er own father." 
 
 Pitts released Sally and regarded her threat- 
 eningly. 
 
 At that moment Slack Dorkins approached by 
 the path that led from the village. He was a 
 typical Yankee, tall and muscular. His Chris- 
 tian name was Hiram, but from childhood he had 
 always been known by the name of Slack,
 
 Love Wanders Far Afield 7 
 
 a name given him because of his habitual untidi- 
 ness. His hair, in a chronic state of disorder, 
 stood out in all directions; his garments hung 
 loosely upon his angular form, and his general 
 air was that of a " ne'er-do-well." But in his case 
 appearances belied the man; for he was coura- 
 geous to the verge of daring, tender as a woman, 
 and true to his friends. His patience could be 
 measured by his love for Millie, who, for the past 
 twenty years had been the housekeeper in the 
 Blair family. For that length of time he had 
 loved her ; but from her he received little encour- 
 agement and scant courtesy: but such affection- 
 ate recognition as she grudgingly bestowed upon 
 him, lightened his labors, and made glad the 
 heart of this solitary man. Her daily lectures 
 on the sin of untidiness, he received with appro- 
 priate humility, but with concealed delight. So 
 long as he could be near her, and love her in his 
 blind, unwavering way, he was content. 
 
 After the death of Henry Blair, Slack had 
 taken upon himself, as his right, the supervision 
 of the household. The two daughters of Henry 
 Blair, Hester and Ethel, when left alone had 
 turned, as if by instinct, to Slack. He asked for 
 no confidences, he gave no advice, but assumed 
 all responsibility; and under his personal guid- 
 ance, things went on as before. It was believed up 
 to the day of his death, that Henry Blair was 
 wealthy. What the true condition of his affairs
 
 8 Hester Blair 
 
 were, none knew but Slack ; and he was not of a 
 communicative nature, when the subject con- 
 cerned the members of the Blair household. 
 
 As Slack stood before the enraged Pitts, he 
 took in the situation at a glance. He was not 
 pleased. He laid his hand caressingly on Sally's 
 head, and spoke drawlingly, as was his cus- 
 tom. 
 
 " Sally, go inter th' house, Millie's bin a lookin' 
 fer yer all day." 
 
 When Sally was out of hearing, he approached 
 Sam and touched him on the shoulder. Pitts 
 turned, and regarded him with contemptuous 
 indifference. Slack's drawl, as he spoke, was 
 seemingly accentuated. Under undue excite- 
 ment or provocation, he fell into this method of 
 delivery, and his words came in a slow, measured 
 monotone, a pause after each word. Seldom 
 heard, the tone of his voice boded no good, and 
 the fishermen looked up apprehensively. 
 
 " Sam, yer be a bigger man, an' meybe a 
 stronger man then I be ; an' th' next time yer lay 
 a finger on Sally, I'll give yer a chance ter prove 
 it." 
 
 " What der yer mean? " asked Pitts doggedly. 
 
 Slack looked him steadily in the eyes, then 
 answered : 
 
 " I mean jest this : that the next time yer strike 
 thet gal er yourn, ef yer don't lick me, I'll give 
 yer th' dernest threshin' yer ever hed." 
 
 Pitts muttered sullenly :
 
 Love Wanders Far Afield 9 
 
 " Yer'd better mind yer own business, an' don't 
 meddle with what don't consarn yer." 
 
 Slack picked up a fishing net and critically ex- 
 amined it. He spoke quietly his eyes on the net. 
 
 " I've sed all I'm goin' ter say, Sam, only this 
 remember it! Boys," he said, turning to the 
 others, " We'll hev ter finish th' nets down ter the 
 wharf ; the gals and the summer folks '11 be back 
 soon." His habitual good-nature returning, he 
 laughed softly, then turned to Captain Edwards. 
 
 " Yer'd better stay an' see the widder, Captain ; 
 she was askin' fer yer." A roar of laughter 
 greeted this intelligence. Slack continued: 
 " John seys we kin finish th' nets on th' old 
 wharf." 
 
 Captain Edwards looked up. " John's goin' 
 away, ain't he? " he asked. 
 
 " D'n know nothin' 'bout John's business. It 
 takes pretty much all my spare time ter 'tend ter 
 my own." 
 
 " Well, I heard so." 
 
 " Did yer? " Slack's aggravating unconcern 
 did not please the doughty captain, who an- 
 swered : 
 
 " Yes, an' they say as how Hester an' Ethy be 
 a goin' 'way this Pall ; an' th' old place's ter be 
 kept shet up." 
 
 Slack again examined the nets without mani- 
 festing any marked degree of interest. 
 
 " Em ! " he drawled, " 'pears ter me yer hear 
 all there's a goin' on. Eny more? "
 
 io Hester Blair 
 
 " Well I know what's goin' on, I kin tell yer. 
 I know what's what. Mr. Featherly's gettin' 
 pretty sweet on Hester. Thet's one thing I 
 know." 
 
 The interest awakened spurred the captain on. 
 
 " Hevn't I seed 'em a walkin' on the beach 
 night arter night, him a talkin' ernest like, an' 
 she a lookin' up inter his face, an' not seemin' 
 to keer whether th' wer' any one else in th' world 
 or no? Yer can't tell me thet don't mean so' thin'." 
 
 Captain Edwards was treading on dangerous 
 ground. Slack's habitual expression of good 
 nature gave place to an ominous scowl. His 
 drawl as he answered was not reassuring. 
 
 " Well, thet don't go ter prove nothin'. Hes- 
 ter hes as good right ter walk on th' beach as 
 other folks, an' she couldn't go 'long with a bet- 
 ter man 'n Mr. Featherly. Es far as I know 
 therms no law agin' her walkin' on the beach ef 
 she be so disposed." 
 
 " No more ther> ben't ef Mr. Featherly be hon- 
 est with er." 
 
 Still slower and more distinct came the an- 
 swer. 
 
 " She be as good as he. She hev th' finest edi- 
 cation hereabouts. 'Lowin' the ole man Blair 
 didn't leave no money, she's able ter take keer of 
 herself, I do be a thinkin'." 
 
 The captain nodded his head doubtingly. 
 
 " Mebby, mebby. They say as how Hessie's a 
 goin' ter New York, an' it 'pears ter me thet's no
 
 Love Wanders Far Afield 1 1 
 
 place fer a young gal ter go alone; leastwise no 
 gal er mine should go ther." 
 
 "How der yer know thet, Captain?" de- 
 manded Seth Binks. 
 
 With a knowing wink Captain Edwards re- 
 plied, " O, I catch on ter things." 
 
 " Yer catch on ter too dern much," drawled 
 Slack. " It'll pull yer under some time." 
 
 " P'rhaps 'twill. All I've got ter say, it's a 
 dern fool thing ter do, anyhow, an' " continued 
 the captain with emphasis, " ef th' ole man wer' 
 alive, it wouldn't be did." 
 
 " Well, bein' as how^ th' ole man hesn't ben 
 'live these two years, he ain't 'tall likely ter in- 
 terfere, an' " Slack's words came with meas- 
 ured distinctness, " it's my 'pinion, when Hes- 
 ter wants eny 'dvice from some folks she'll ask it 
 of 'em." 
 
 Captain Edwards recognized the note of warn- 
 ing in Slack's voice. He answered in a concilia- 
 tory tone. 
 
 " Yer needn't git so dern cranky 'bout it, 
 Slacky." 
 
 Slack fumbled the nets nervously; he was not 
 wholly appeased. A tender spot was touched 
 when Hester or John Gary was the subject of 
 remark or gossip. He was not easily aroused to 
 anger, and those who knew him well, took care 
 not to invite his displeasure. During the greater 
 part of the colloquy Slack had been examining 
 the fishing nets. He arose and turned slowly.
 
 12 Hester Blair 
 
 His voice was tempered with an honest regard 
 for the man whom he addressed. 
 
 " Captain, we've ben friends fer th' past twenty 
 er more years, an' I don't want ter break witb 
 yer now; but I got this ter say ter yer: don't 
 discuss what consarns the Blair gals or John. 
 What's ther business is ther business, an' don't 
 consarn you. I'm no quarreling man, but Cap- 
 tain, it'll be better fer you an' fer me, ef yer 
 leave 'em alone." 
 
 He turned to the listening group. 
 
 " Boys," he said quietly, " take th' nets down 
 ter th' wharf an' we'll finish 'em ther." 
 
 The fishermen gathered the nets together and 
 walked slowly down the hill to the wharf. Slack 
 stood at the edge of the path looking in the di- 
 rection of the village. Captain Edwards was 
 the last to leave, and, as he passed Slack, his 
 hand came down on the fisherman's shoulder 
 with resounding force. Neither spoke, but they 
 both understood : their life friendship was still 
 intact 
 
 Slack turned in the direction of the house. He 
 knew only too well, that what the captain had 
 said was, for the most part, true. It was no news 
 to him ; and his heart was heavy with forebodings 
 that he could not understand, much less explain. 
 
 Since the death of her father, Hester Blair 
 recognized the necessity of earning a living for 
 herself and her younger sister, Ethel. The home- 
 stead being large, contributed to this end; and
 
 Love Wanders Far Afield 13 
 
 for the past two summers the house had been 
 filled with summer boarders. People in search 
 of health and quiet, found here what they de- 
 sired; but they brought with them the atmos- 
 phere of city life, that upset the homely, tradi- 
 tional customs of the household. Fine airs did 
 not appeal to the inmates of the Blair home; 
 and the intellectual bearing of the visitors, and 
 their studied repression of all natural emotions 
 were, to the Blair family, unconvincing. Millie 
 served them well her reputation as a cook and 
 housekeeper was at stake but she disliked them 
 cordially. Only one of the visitors, Mrs. Pendle- 
 ton, better known as " The Widder," had, with 
 good-natured persistence and tact, ingratiated 
 herself into Millie's favor. This was, however, 
 not easily accomplished, for it took more than 
 soft words to win Millie's regard. The revenue 
 from these summer boarders insured Ethel's edu- 
 cation ; and this fact, more than any other, molli- 
 fied the obstreperous housekeeper. 
 
 Slack paused in his walk and leaned against 
 the back of a summer bench. Retrospectively 
 he thought of the changes that had gradually, 
 but surely, turned the current of their lives into 
 unknown channels. He spoke musingly : " They 
 all know it. I've seen it fer a long time. Every- 
 thing is changed since these pesky people came 
 ter live here. Does John know? Does he sus- 
 pect? I hevn't seen 'im smile fer a month; an' 
 Gosh ! How thet boy loves Hessie."
 
 14 Hester Blair 
 
 With elastic step, the subject of Slack's con- 
 cern strode up the hill and stood before the cogi- 
 tating fisherman. 
 
 John Gary had long since passed that period 
 of life when he could be appropriately desig- 
 nated as " Thet boy." He was good to look upon ; 
 tall, square-shouldered, square-jawed, with a 
 frank open countenance that invited confidence. 
 He was of that class of men that women love, 
 and men respect. Nature had been kind to John 
 Gary, and he looked, in the bright summer sun- 
 shine, what he was a true type of American 
 manhood. 
 
 Slack's eyes flashed an honest, hearty greeting. 
 He motioned John to a seat, and regarded him 
 with fatherly affection. 
 
 " Well, John, why didn't yer go boatin' ? " 
 Without waiting for an answer he continued: 
 " I left th' folks down ter th' wharf. Where be 
 they? " 
 
 " They'll be home directly," John answered, 
 " I saw them going through the village." 
 
 " Why didn't yer go with them, John? Hessie 
 '11 be disappointed." 
 
 John remained silent. A serious light shone 
 in his eyes. His companion, meanwhile, watched 
 him narrowly: he guessed aright what was 
 passing through the young lover's mind guessed 
 that doubt had begun to eat its way into his 
 heart. Neither spoke for a few moments; their 
 eyes met, and John knew that the fears which
 
 Love Wanders Far Afield 15 
 
 filled his heart, were entertained by his fisher- 
 man friend. Millie's voice came as a relief. 
 
 " Slack, I say, Slack Dorkins, you come right 
 in here ! " 
 
 Slack's face assumed a rueful expression, then 
 he chuckled quietly. 
 
 " Now I'll hev ter take it fer hevin' the boys 
 'round. Sit down, John, th' folks '11 be here in 
 a minute." He looked in the direction of the vil- 
 lage, then continued : " My daily lecture's due 
 'bout now; how do my hair look, wuss 'n' com- 
 mon? " 
 
 He removed his cap, disclosing a head of hair 
 wondrous in its wild, unkempt disorder. Surely 
 never did hair of human being grow with such 
 reckless abandon, and with utter disregard of 
 order or symmetry. Of no known color or col- 
 ors for there were as many as the " Famous 
 coat," it literally stood on end : a crowning 
 vindication of the appropriateness of the name 
 that had clung to him since boyhood, Slack. He 
 made a wry face and entered the house. 
 
 John seated himself on the summer bench. " I 
 am a fool," he said softly, " to believe that she 
 cares for me. She has outgrown her childhood 
 love. Young, beautiful, she has had social ad- 
 vantages that I never enjoyed. I am not the 
 same to her since these visitors came; but I do 
 not take kindly to their ways: they are not of 
 my kind, and I doubt if I could ever become one 
 of them. Is the fault with me? Has my life of
 
 1 6 Hester Blair 
 
 work, the aims and ambitions that I have lived 
 for, unfitted me for contact with the world? 
 Their talk depresses me; even in their sports 
 and pleasures I seem to see an artificiality that I 
 despise. Perhaps I should have moved more 
 among them, and become better acquainted with 
 their ways. I have been taught to look upon 
 women with respect, while they God ! it makes 
 my blood boil." 
 
 A hand was laid lightly on his shoulder, and 
 a soft, musical, cultured voice interrupted his 
 revery. 
 
 " Why John ! communing with yourself ! that's 
 misanthropic. Why didn't you come boating? " 
 
 " Did you miss me, Hester? " 
 
 " How can you ask? We all missed you." 
 
 " Did you really care whether I went or not? " 
 
 " Why, how serious you are ! You know I 
 would have been glad to have had you with us. 
 And such delightful sailing ! " 
 
 " Yes, I believe you would have been glad, as 
 you would to have had any of your friends, no 
 more, no less." 
 
 " John, dear," she laughingly exclaimed, " what 
 a rueful countenance ! you are actually becoming 
 morbid. I shall have to prescribe for you. Let 
 me see! boating every other day; lawn tennis 
 every evening; and an hour each day spent in 
 the society of Mrs. Pendleton." 
 
 John raised his hand protestingly, " the hour 
 a day," he rejoined, " would
 
 Love Wanders Far Afield 17 
 
 " My dear John, you are prejudiced. She is 
 really charming; and furthermore, I believe, I 
 truly believe, she is fond of you." 
 
 " Heaven protect me," John exclaimed, with a 
 nod of his head. " Pendleton's the happy man ! " 
 
 " Why, John, Mr. Pendleton is dead ! " 
 
 " Exactly ! Happy man ! But seriously, Hes- 
 ter, I came to-day to tell you that I think of go- 
 ing away." 
 
 " Going away? " she echoed. 
 
 " Yes," he replied, " my uncle has offered me a 
 position in his shipping office in New York." 
 
 " I am so glad for you, John." 
 
 " Wouldn't you miss me? " he asked. 
 
 " Of course we should all miss you," she an- 
 swered. "How can you ask such a question?" 
 
 " Ah ! Hester, it is more to me now than you 
 know, or can guess. We have loved each other 
 since childhood, and leaving the old place is not 
 the hardest to bear." 
 
 " Changes must come in the lives of all of us," 
 she replied sadly. " As you know, my father left 
 us nothing but the homestead. Ethel's education 
 must be provided for; and it is my intention to 
 go to some large city after the summer season, 
 and earn a living for us both." 
 
 " You, Hester! " he exclaimed. 
 
 " Yes," she replied. " Fortunately, I am fitted 
 for it by education : my musical training has been 
 most thorough, and, if work will accomplish any- 
 thing, I shall succeed."
 
 1 8 Hester Blair 
 
 " Hester, can nothing dissuade you from this 
 course? " Taking her hand in both his own, he 
 continued, " You do not realize the difficulties 
 to be overcome, the suffering to be endured, the 
 humiliation, and worse than all possible fail- 
 ure." 
 
 " Yes," she replied sadly, " I ha.ve considered 
 it all, again and again. My decision is final." 
 
 " Hester, you know my love for you. I am now 
 in a position to offer you a home. Will you 
 listen to me? " 
 
 " I cannot," she replied tremulously, " I can- 
 not. Don't ask me for explanations that I am 
 unable to give. I have dreaded this moment John 
 dear; but it is best for both of us that we con- 
 tinue as we are." 
 
 " I have seen the change come over you Hes- 
 ter," he replied sadly, " but I trusted, with love's 
 blind faith, that our old love story would be re- 
 newed. Can nothing alter your decision? " 
 
 " Nothing," she replied, " nothing. I have not 
 the love to give you that you deserve. I know 
 the fault is mine, but it would be unfair to mis- 
 lead you. Don't blame me, John dear, but I 
 cannot." 
 
 The chatter of the guests could be heard as 
 they ascended the hill. 
 
 " Will you stay to supper, John? " 
 
 " No," he replied, " not to-night." 
 
 She entered the house. John walked to the 
 bluff, and seating himself on a bench, looked out
 
 Love Wanders Far Afield 19 
 
 over the harbor and bay. He wished to be alone, 
 for the noisy mirth of the returning guests filled 
 him with a spirit of resentment. 
 
 Twilight came, lingered, and deepened into 
 night; the lights flickered along the shore, like 
 restless spirits of the sea; and the gleam from 
 the lighthouse on the point, flashed intermit- 
 tently a brazen warning of danger over the water. 
 The port lights of a coasting vessel, southbound, 
 blinked a feeble defiance, and crept on, like a 
 will-o-the-wisp, low on the horizon. Now and 
 again a snatch of a song from some belated fish- 
 ermen rose, siren-like, the splash of their oars 
 keeping time to the tune of the unseen toilers of 
 the sea, their song rising and falling in weird-like 
 cadences. The thoughts of the silent listener 
 were delving in the past, He was living again 
 the days of his boyhood, when with Hester, they 
 explored every nook on the rugged coast, and 
 made their first promises of never-ending love ; of 
 later years, when, with the awkward modesty of 
 young womanhood and manhood, they renewed 
 their vows of constancy; of his despair, after 
 Hester had gone to Europe to complete her edu- 
 cation; and of the letters they had exchanged, 
 burdened with fond endearments. Then, after a 
 lapse of time, of an unconscious something com- 
 ing between them a change in the tone of her 
 letters ; of her return, the same companion of his 
 childhood, yet, though he could not explain it, 
 not the same. He lived again through the period
 
 2O Hester Blair 
 
 when the death of Mr. Blair brought them to- 
 gether in a closer bond; when he felt himself 
 the natural protector of the woman whose love 
 was, to him, his life. He dwelt upon the advent 
 of the strangers into the Blair home, which had 
 interrupted their daily intercourse; and he rea- 
 lized that with them had come the cloud that ob- 
 scured his happiness, and robbed him of the love 
 that had been his. He had felt the change that 
 had come over Hester; had noted the growing 
 intimacy between her and Featherly ; and, though 
 in his heart he knew that hope was struggling 
 against his better judgment, he realized that she 
 was lost to him. 
 
 The soft breeze fretted the surface of the water ; 
 the waves at the foot of the bluff sent back sob- 
 bing little echoes, and splashed complainingly on 
 the beach, keeping time to the sea's unceasing 
 throb. Solemn, mysterious night closed in upon 
 the world, and upon the hopes of the silent figure, 
 as he sat looking out over the sea.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 SLACK'S RECREANT WOOING 
 
 I have waited an' I've waited, it is nigh on twenty year; 
 
 An' I've begged yer fer th' weddin' day ter name. 
 I have ast yer times unnumbered; Now jest tell me Millie 
 dear, 
 
 If I must go on a waitin' jest th' same? 
 Yer a tellin' me ter day, what yer told me years ago, 
 
 And my patience's worn as thin can be; 
 For I love yer, an' I love yer, a hundred times I've told yer 
 so, 
 
 Tell me, sometime will yer answer yes ter me? 
 
 THE following day Millie and Slack stood 
 upon the porch watching the guests as they 
 descended the hill to the wharf. The eyes 
 of the spinster followed them until they disap- 
 peared from view. She held them in pitying 
 contempt; and it was with a sigh of relief that 
 she saw them take their departure; for it assured 
 her an afternoon's quiet, and relieved her from 
 the efforts of constant self-restraint that she was 
 forced to exercise. When they were about it was 
 with difficulty that she could disguise her feel- 
 ings, and it required an effort on her part to treat 
 them with common courtesy. Their patronizing 
 familiarity she resented ; and their attempts at a 
 closer relationship she received with chilly, 
 studied politeness. She protested that they 
 
 21
 
 22 Hester Blair 
 
 talked too much; that they didn't mean what 
 they said, and, worse than all, that they were 
 afflicted with the unpardonable sin of never re- 
 turning things to their proper places; and soft 
 words, languidly spoken, could not appease the 
 methodical Millie for what she termed their 
 " city bringing up." 
 
 " Where be they a goin' now? " she asked with 
 a toss of her head. 
 
 " Why, fishin' o' course," answered Slack. 
 " They heven't caught 'em all yet." 
 
 " Huh ! the clack of their tongues would scare 
 a shark away ! " With withering scorn she con- 
 tinued, " How they do love ter talk ! an' th' wust 
 of it is it don't mean nothin'. I wish they wer' 
 goin' 'way t'morrer. No I don't ! I wish th' house 
 wer' twice as large, an' we had twice as many 
 boarders. The gals need the money; but them 
 pesky people do drive me nigh crazy." 
 
 Slack maintained a discreet silence. After a 
 pause he ventured: 
 
 " Why didn't Hessie go 'long? " 
 
 " D'n know. Guess she sees 'nough of 'em at 
 home." 
 
 "Did Mr. Featherly go?" 
 
 " Don't think he did," answered Millie, " thet 
 Mr. Fenton sent fer 'im ter go out ter his yacht. 
 Sally Hopkins tole me, thet her brother Sam 
 says they do cut up ter'bly on thet boat: play 
 cards an' drink. O, it's som'thin' scand'lous ! " 
 
 " Em ! " was Slack's non-committal reply.
 
 Slack's Recreant Wooing 23 
 
 The conversation lagged. The sound of the 
 piano came through the window. The touch was 
 that of a master hand, and the flood of melody 
 filled the hearts of the listeners with delight. 
 
 " How she do play," said Slack. 
 
 Walking to the end of the porch nearest the 
 sea, he sat in a chair; but comfort was to be de- 
 nied him. Millie's voice drowned the tones of 
 the piano. 
 
 " Good Lor' ! Slack Dorkins, yer be a sittin, 
 on thet tidy as Ethel knitted with her own hands ! 
 Git up out'n thet cheer." 
 
 Slack jumped as if stung. Tidies he held in 
 special abhorrence. Millie scrutinized him 
 closely. Surely there was dust on his coat. She 
 held a whisk-broom in her hand and shook it at 
 him threateningly. 
 
 " Take thet broom," she exclaimed as she ap- 
 proached the unfortunate fisherman, " an' whisk 
 yerself out in th' yard. Good Lor', what'll be- 
 come of yer, anyhow?" 
 
 Slack had taken special pains with his dress, 
 with a fixed determination to surprise Millie, 
 and wring from her some slight word of approba- 
 tion. He had adorned himself with a new cra- 
 vat, and had waited expectantly for a word of 
 praise. He was somewhat taken aback that his 
 unusually spruce appearance should not only go 
 unnoticed, but that nightmare of his existence, 
 dust, was still with him. He took the broom 
 obediently and, with many flourishes, removed
 
 24 Hester Blair 
 
 the offending dust and presented himself for in- 
 spection. 
 
 " How do I look, Millie? " 
 
 Critically she scanned the offender. " Well," 
 she vouchsafed, " yer don' look no wuss than yer 
 werV' 
 
 " Why," blurted the erring fisherman, " I 
 thought I looked pretty good. Put on this new 
 cravat ter see how yer'd like it." 
 
 " Huh ! new cravats look well on a great hulk 
 of a man like you." 
 
 Her eyes traveled to his hair ; her features took 
 on an expression of withering disgust. The man 
 before her shuddered : he remembered his hair, 
 in his anxiety to display his new cravat he had 
 forgotten the combing process. 
 
 " Yer see, Millie," he began penitently 
 
 She interrupted him. " Don't yer talk back 
 ter me, till yer lookin' fitter 'n yer do now." With 
 a scornful glance she continued : " Don't yer 
 move, Slack Dorkins, don't yer move ! " 
 
 She entered the house, and if she were not so 
 absorbed with her desire to tidy up the universe, 
 she might have heard a suppressed chuckle fol- 
 lowing her retreating footsteps. The eyes of the 
 culprit on the porch twinkled merrily; then as 
 Millie reappeared with a basin of water and a 
 comb, sought the ground as became true abase- 
 ment. 
 
 Straightway, Millie proceeded to administer
 
 Slack's Recreant Wooing 25 
 
 to the rebellious head of hair, such a soaking as 
 it had not received for many a day. The water 
 splashed into her victim's eyes, and ran in 
 streams down his neck. His collar, which he had 
 donned in anticipation of an afternoon in Mil- 
 lie's company, fell before the watery onslaught. 
 The new cravat, alas! received its first baptism, 
 and lay like a wet rag, damp and disheveled. 
 
 When head and hair would absorb no more 
 water, the comb was brought into play and 
 wielded with determined vigor. That head of 
 hair must be conquered. All went well until she 
 attempted to part it. It was then that rebellion 
 took possession of the bristly growth, and of Mil- 
 lie's temper. It would not part straight. She 
 slapped it, she pulled it; no, the part took a zig- 
 zag course. Undaunted, she tried the other side 
 with like results. An idea occurred to her. Now 
 Millie was a woman of action, as well as of de- 
 termination. She cast a threatening glance at 
 her victim and re-entered the house, hurling back 
 the command, "Don't yer move!" 
 
 The uncautious Slack gave way to a burst of 
 laughter, until warned by Millie's returning foot- 
 steps. She held a cup in her hand ; and advanced 
 with the self-satisfied air of one who had solved a 
 knotty problem. 
 
 "What yer got ther'?" asked Slack. 
 
 " Never yer mind," was the enlightening re- 
 sponse, " jest yer hold yer head."
 
 26 Hester Blair 
 
 The contents of the cup, to the last drop, was 
 emptied on Slack's unruly hair, and the molasses 
 for that it was percolated through the dense 
 growth with characteristic slowness. A trium- 
 phant smile overspread Millie's countenance; 
 and with a sigh of satisfaction she renewed the 
 combing and parting. The comb stuck. She 
 pulled with energy, nor rested until the shiny, 
 sticky mass clung, as if glued, to the scalp of the 
 enraptured fisherman. She stepped back to view 
 the result of her muscular efforts. 
 
 " Ther'," she exclaimed, " yer best friend 
 wouldn't know yer." 
 
 A smile of idiotic delight rewarded her. Slack 
 took a large, coarse comb from his pocket, and 
 handed it to the spinster. 
 
 " Yer see, Millie," he said, " arter th' dressin' 
 down yer give me t'other day, I went ter th' vil- 
 lage an' bought this yer curry, an' by gum ! arter 
 I washed up, I clean forgot ter use it. I feel so 
 dern good now, I don't believe I'll ever comb 
 my hair agin. Keep th' curry, Millie, an' when 
 my hair needs it, I'll come 'round and hev yer 
 dress it." 
 
 " D'yer mean ter tell me yer don't comb yer 
 hair at least twice a day? " Her tone was 
 freighted with disgust. 
 
 " What's th' good on't ! Tiler's no one ter see 
 it when it be combed." With a ludicrous attempt 
 at tenderness he continued : " Ef yer'd marry me,
 
 Slack's Recreant Wooing 27 
 
 Millie, I'd comb it I'd comb it till ther'd be no 
 hair left ter comb." 
 
 " Yer know well 'nough, Slack Dorkins, thet 
 Hessie and Ethy can't git 'long 'thout me." 
 
 " Yer know well 'nough, thet / can't get 'long 
 'thout you." 
 
 Though Millie would not acknowledge it, the 
 love of this man was as necessary to her exist- 
 ence and happiness as the air she breathed. But 
 she toyed with his heart and his love, because 
 she knew they were hers, without stint or reserva- 
 tion. Were she accused of more than ordinary 
 regard for the man, who, for twenty years, had 
 waited for the word that she withheld, she would 
 deny it. Yet she loved him. Through all these 
 years she had looked upon him as absolutely her 
 own. No doubt of his loyalty, no fear that he 
 might be lost to her, had ever quickened her heart 
 beats ; that such a contingency might arise, had 
 never occurred to her. She received his blind, 
 patient love as her right, and gave but little in 
 return ; but that little was the sunshine that il- 
 lumined the pathway of his existence. A smile 
 meant to Slack a week of happiness, an affection- 
 ate word unguardedly uttered for Millie's in- 
 difference was assumed was bliss. So their life 
 went on he loving and waiting, she receiving his 
 devotion with affected unconcern, and querulous 
 upraiding. 
 
 Millie gathered up some working materials,
 
 28 Hester Blair 
 
 that were on a small table on the porch, and pre- 
 pared to enter the house. She turned to the fish- 
 erman and spoke : 
 
 " Slacky, all men say they can't get 'long 'thout 
 a woman, an' when they git her, they can't git 
 'long with her. Yer better off as yer are. Keep 
 on with yer fishin' an' scrapin' thet fiddle o' 
 yourn in th' cabin o' yer schooner, an' don't be a 
 fool!" 
 
 And with this sage-like and philosophical bolt 
 of wisdom, she sought the sacred precincts of 
 the kitchen. 
 
 Slack's answering chuckle was not indicative 
 of a profound impression having been made upon 
 him, nor had there been. He whistled softly 
 and walked in the direction of the barn. 
 
 The music continued. It rose and fell, varying 
 from a wild Moorish song, to a tumultuous out- 
 pouring of sound, as if echoing the cry of a lost 
 soul. If Hester were telling her story in melody, 
 she had touched the fountain spring of life's emo- 
 tions, that now surged in torrents of sound 
 through the open door and window, and died 
 upon the quiet of the summer day. 
 
 Young, beautiful, talented, Hester had, during 
 her father's lifetime, received every educational 
 advantage that money could procure. Two years 
 she had spent in European travel, and in the 
 completion of her musical education, having re- 
 turned but a short time before her father's death. 
 
 Henry Blair had been the local magistrate. He
 
 Slack's Recreant Wooing 29 
 
 had been everyone's friend ; and it was only after 
 his death, that it was discovered that the man 
 whom all believed wealthy, had left nothing but 
 the homestead, and a name that lived after him. 
 
 After her father's death, Hester immediately 
 set to work with the courage of her race. The 
 care and education of her sister Ethel came first ; 
 of herself, and her future, she had no fear. Calm, 
 dispassionate, of a superior order of intelligence, 
 she looked her position squarely in the face. She 
 recognized her responsibility, and met it with 
 fortitude and decision ; yet, underlying it all, was 
 a passionate desire for the higher things of life 
 than her surroundings or conditions indicated 
 or allowed. She had returned to her old home 
 after the years of absence, the same loving 
 daughter and sister; but contact with the world, 
 that never fails to leave its imprint for good or 
 for evil, had left its stamp upon her. Her girl- 
 hood love for John Gary had given place to a 
 sincere respect and friendly regard. Content- 
 ment had been replaced by vague, unconscious 
 unrest. 
 
 Ralph Featherly came over the brow of the 
 hill from the village, and, pausing, stood in a 
 listening attitude before the window of the room 
 in which Hester was playing. Half an hour went 
 by and still he listened. 
 
 By the advice of his friend and classmate, Dr. 
 Coulton, who was the rector of the village church, 
 he had been induced to come to Norton for the
 
 30 Hester Blair 
 
 summer, to regain his health. Though carefully 
 guarded, it was known to a few of his closest 
 friends that he was suffering from heart disease. 
 He had lived in New York the life of a wealthy 
 young man about town, which is not conducive 
 to good health, particularly to one suffering from 
 an organic trouble. His father was of the fourth 
 generation of a line of ancestors who had been 
 bankers : but he had retired from active business, 
 and, of the firm of Featherly & Co., his son Ralph 
 was the actual head. 
 
 Hester turned and met the gaze of the young 
 man fixed upon her. 
 
 " What," she exclaimed, " not boating? " 
 
 " No," he replied, " I went as far as the wharf 
 and then decided not to go." 
 
 " But I thought you enjoyed fishing." 
 
 " So I do, but I like music better. Why do 
 you reserve such a fine performance until you are 
 alone?" 
 
 " Perhaps I was in the humor," she laughed. 
 
 " One hardly expects to hear such music in 
 this far-away spot." 
 
 She did not reply, but her hands strayed 
 lightly over the keys. Featherly entered the 
 room and leaned against the piano. 
 
 " Do you know," he said, " I sometimes think 
 it is a pity that you had not chosen a public 
 career." 
 
 " It is not too late," she smilingly rejoined, 
 " I am not past the age."
 
 " John Carey approached the house ; and pausing, looked 
 into the wuidow."
 
 Slack's Recreant Wooing 31 
 
 " True," he replied. 
 
 " I shall go to some large city after the sum- 
 mer season and make the attempt. I can but 
 fail." 
 
 " You have everything in your favor. Have 
 you decided where you will go? " 
 
 " New York," she answered, " is my first 
 choice." 
 
 " In that," he replied, " you are wise. Will 
 you play this?" he asked, placing a sheet of 
 music before her. " It's a favorite of mine." 
 
 It was a love song. She played it with exqui- 
 site pathos and expression. He leaned over the 
 piano to turn the music. The color swept in 
 waves over her neck and cheeks. The sheet of 
 music slid from the rest, and in the confusion 
 of replacing it their hands met. The touch drove 
 the blood into her cheeks; and the first discord- 
 ant note marred her generally faultless execu- 
 tion. Her hand was tremulous, and she finished 
 abruptly. 
 
 " Don't stop," he begged, " play it again." 
 
 Somewhat recomposed, she began softly with a 
 surer touch, and the music rose in melodious 
 abandon. Featherly's eyes were on the beautiful 
 face before him : the changing expression telling 
 the song's story. She seemed to feel his glance 
 and it thrilled her. 
 
 John Gary approached the house; and paus- 
 ing, looked into the window. Neither occupant 
 of the room had noticed his coming. He saw the
 
 32 Hester Blair 
 
 heightened color on the cheek of the woman he 
 loved; the attitude of Featherly, his eyes fixed 
 with passionate admiration on her face. He re- 
 traced his steps and silently descended the hill 
 to the village.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 LOVE'S CHAMPION: "THEN IT'S WAR?" 
 
 Man may play with fate and fire, be as daring 1 as he will; 
 
 He may brave all dangers known and unknown too. 
 But measure not your feeble wits with woman's tact and 
 skill: 
 
 For Heaven decreed a lesser share to you. 
 
 IT was late afternoon when the guests re- 
 turned from their fishing trip. They 
 climbed the hill slowly, boisterously happy 
 over what they termed a successful catch. 
 Snatches of songs were interrupted by gibes and 
 jests, delicate but pointed. Mrs. Pendleton sus- 
 tained the greater part of the jocular burden; 
 but she was equal to the task. It was not posi- 
 tively known, but it was generally believed that 
 the death of Pendleton was her third bereave- 
 ment; but as she never alluded to any but the 
 last, there was no way of ascertaining the exact 
 number. Of all who conjectured, none were 
 brave enough to venture more than a guess ; but 
 by common consent, three were the marital losses 
 she had sustained and survived. She was of that 
 age made doubtful by a devising modiste, and a 
 good, healthy constitution well cared for. None 
 knew better that beauty 
 
 " May be retained, 
 But n'er regained."
 
 34 Hester Blair 
 
 She looked eight and twenty, she might have 
 been forty. But whatever her age, she was a 
 cheery, lovable little woman, whose apparent 
 mission in life was to straighten out all tangled 
 love affairs, make everybody about her as happy 
 as circumstances would allow; circumvent the 
 designing and, Heaven willing, marry again. She 
 was everywhere; she did most things, and did 
 them well. She played whist or lawn tennis with 
 daring and finesse, and was equally at home on 
 a horse, in a boat, or at the piano. Before the 
 first week had elapsed after her arrival, she had 
 the confidences of all the guests; had been made 
 the recipient of family secrets; was conversant 
 with, and listened with sympathetic interest to 
 everyone's hobby, losing many hours of needful 
 sleep thereby, but gaining the reputation of be- 
 ing a farsighted, intelligent woman. But more 
 than all, she had conquered Millie's prejudices, 
 and had the artful Slack at her feet. She had 
 known Featherly in New York. She treated 
 him with motherly, affectionate consideration; 
 yet she looked the younger of the two ; and their 
 friendship, of long standing, privileged her, at 
 times, to mildly lecture him. She had one griev- 
 ance: Glenn Hopedale Fenton was a friend of 
 Featherly. He had been for some weeks living 
 on his yacht, which was anchored in the harbor 
 of Norton. She had known Fenton in New York ; 
 she disliked him ; but Featherly laughed her criti- 
 cisms away with the remark, " that he was a
 
 Love's Champion "Then It's War ?" 35 
 
 ' good fellow,' that all women were prejudiced, 
 and that she didn't mean half that she said." 
 Fenton frequently visited the Blair family, osten- 
 sibly to see Featherly, but he did not deceive Mrs. 
 Pendleton. 
 
 Hester and Featherly met the guests at the top 
 of the hill. 
 
 " What luck, Laura? " Featherly asked. 
 
 Mrs. Pendleton replied, " It was pull and haul 
 from the moment we anchored off the lighthouse 
 point. We have fish enough to feed the whole 
 community. How many have you ladies? " 
 
 One of the guests held up her catch. Two small 
 fish dangled from a string. " Two scup," she 
 answered proudly. 
 
 Another displayed one solitary specimen of her 
 skill in the bottom of a generous-sized basket. 
 Her voice, however, trilled with true fisher- 
 man's pride as she held it aloft. " One tautog." 
 Another less fortunate, with a rueful air, dis- 
 played a dog-fish. 
 
 " And you, Laura? " demanded Featherly. 
 
 " O, well, you see," Mrs. Pendleton answered 
 unblushingly, " together with my duties as chap- 
 eron, I assisted Captain Edwards with the man- 
 agement of the boat." 
 
 Mrs. Pendleton's answer was received with 
 derisive laughter by the guests. 
 
 " Manage the boat," repeated young Stevens, 
 a medical student, "manage the boat! ha, ha! 
 Captain Edwards was in a trance from the mo-
 
 36 Hester Blair 
 
 merit Mrs. Pendleton came aboard. Manage the 
 boat indeed ! Good joke ! " and they filed into the 
 house hurling back a shower of disdainful allu- 
 sions to chaperons in general, and some terse 
 remarks about heart wreckers in particular. 
 
 " How they do enjoy themselves," sighed Mrs. 
 Pendleton, " the dears ! " 
 
 Hester answered Millie's call and followed the 
 guests, leaving Mrs. Pendleton and Featherly 
 alone. Fenton was coming leisurely up the hill. 
 Mrs. Pendleton turned to Featherly: 
 
 " Ralph, aren't you going to dress for dinner? 
 You'll be late." 
 
 " Time enough," he rejoined. 
 
 Taking him by the arm she turned him around 
 in the direction of the house. 
 
 " There, that's a dear boy. Go and dress for 
 dinner. I w r ant a word with Fenton." 
 
 " What's wrong? " he asked. 
 
 " Nothing which concerns you, dear boy ; a 
 little matter of business, that's all." 
 
 He entered the house as Fenton approached. 
 Mrs. Pendleton turned to meet him. 
 
 " What ill-wind brings you here? I thought 
 your boat had left the harbor and we were rid 
 of you." 
 
 " Not an over-enthusiastic greeting," he re- 
 plied. " Perhaps I remained to enjoy your very 
 charming society." 
 
 " Bah ! Let us be frank ! What scheme have 
 you afoot now? "
 
 Love's Champion "Then It's War?" 37 
 
 " My dear Laura " 
 
 " Don't l dear Laura ' me ! Look here, Glenn, 
 I've known you for the past ten years, and I never 
 knew you to have one wholesome, honest thought 
 or intention. The only cause for complaint I 
 ever had against poor Pendleton was, that you 
 were a friend of his." 
 
 " Laura, you have a most uncomfortable way 
 of alluding to the past; and you are not at your 
 best when you are heroic ! Do let bygones alone." 
 
 She was not to be put off. She was a deter- 
 mined little woman, and once she had taken a 
 matter in hand, she followed it to the end. She 
 knew Fenton's past life, and she felt that no good 
 would come of his visits to the Blair home. She 
 looked him in the eyes unflinchingly and re- 
 turned to the attack. 
 
 " You came here a month ago apparently to 
 see Featherly. You remain here week after 
 week. I can guess the attraction. I now ask 
 your purpose." 
 
 " Laura," he rejoined, " you are a decidedly 
 clever woman, but you assume too much." 
 
 He turned as if to enter the house. She took 
 hold of his arm and whirled him round until he 
 faced her. 
 
 " Glenn," her tone was determined, " I came 
 here as a summer boarder. I love Hester and 
 Ethel, and I believe they regard me with some 
 degree of affection. I know you to be bad, thor- 
 oughly bad. Take my advice and go."
 
 38 Hester Blair 
 
 " But suppose I refuse to leave the field? 
 Featherly can't have any serious intentions with 
 regard to Hester: with his prospects, he 
 couldn't be such a fool. As for that lout 
 Cary- 
 
 " That lout Gary, as you are pleased to call 
 him, is one of nature's noblemen. Of Featherly's 
 intentions I know nothing, but I am satisfied of 
 what yours are. As I before gentlv intimated, 
 go." 
 
 " And if I decide to remain? " he queried. 
 
 " But you won't." 
 
 " By Jove ! but I will. It isn't every day one 
 meets such a beautiful woman as Hester Blair, 
 and I intend to enter the lists. Featherly isn't 
 a marrying man ; but his very marked attentions 
 are not only accepted, but encouraged. It's com- 
 mon talk in the village. The country lover seems 
 to be getting the cold shoulder. My attention 
 may I add admiration hasn't made the impres- 
 sion I could wish ; but mark me, Laura, you know 
 the world : wealth and social position always have 
 the pole, and in this race, unless I mistake, I shall 
 be in at the finish." 
 
 " Glenn," there was a note of entreaty in her 
 voice, " years ago there lived in the city of New 
 York, a young, trusting girl. You know her fate. 
 You were instrumental in driving her to des- 
 peration, until she sank to the lowest social 
 depths. She is now living in one of the worst 
 localities in the city."
 
 Love's Champion "Then It's War?" 39 
 
 " She was a fool ! " he rejoined angrily. 
 
 " She was not a fool, until she was made one 
 by you, tricked, ensnared and cast aside. You 
 w r ere the cause of breaking up the home of the 
 Hadleys; the husband is drinking himself to 
 death to forget his shame." 
 
 " Laura," protested Fenton, " in Heaven's 
 name have done ! That's all recorded in the an- 
 cient history of Manhattan social life! They are 
 not exceptions, they are simply incidents ! That's 
 all!" 
 
 " Ah, you provoke me beyond endurance. You 
 never found me wanting in frankness? " 
 
 " No, Laura, your worst enemy if you ever 
 had one couldn't accuse you of it." 
 
 " Good ! and you believe me honest in what I 
 say?" 
 
 " Distressingly so." 
 
 " Glenn, I know you to be a thorough scoun- 
 drel." 
 
 " That's harsh," he remonstrated. 
 
 " But true. Will you leave here? " 
 
 " No, I stay." 
 
 " Then it's war? " 
 
 " So be it." His voice took on a determined 
 ring. " I can at least choose the fighting ground. 
 Let it be here." 
 
 " Fenton, I detest you heartily ; but you play 
 tennis divinely. We'll have time for a game be- 
 fore dinner. While you remain I'll take care to 
 monopolize your very charming society. / am
 
 40 Hester Blair 
 
 safe with you, and it will give you less oppor- 
 tunity for harm. Come." 
 
 The bulky form of Slack lumbered around the 
 corner of the house. His keen, distrustful glance 
 followed the retreating forms of Mrs. Pendleton 
 and her companion. Slack's knowledge of men 
 and things was neither profound nor far-reach- 
 ing. His world embraced the territory measured 
 by the eye from the bluff overlooking the village. 
 An occasional visit to Boston gave him a glance 
 of a world of which he knew but little, and that 
 little did not invite further intimacy. Of book 
 knowledge, he had none. With difficulty he could 
 scrawl his signature ; estimate the probable catch 
 of a season's fishing; and to a nicety, figure the 
 profits at the close. Yet woe to him who at- 
 tempted to trade on his incredulity or lack of 
 worldly wisdom. He was justly accredited with 
 being endowed with an uncommon amount of 
 " horse sense." Instinct dominated his judgment, 
 which seldom led him astray. He watched the 
 retreating couple who had just declared war, and 
 his customary expression of good nature gave 
 place to one of perplexity. 
 
 " What be them two a doin' tergether? " he 
 muttered. " They ain't no more like 'n a cat- 
 rigged boat and a school o' porpose. Th' widder 
 can't be settin' her cap fer thet duck ! No, he ain't 
 her kind. She's square's er brick, an' he I don't 
 like 'im, an' neither, do I believe, does th' wid- 
 der. What be he a doin' 'ere so much? "
 
 Love's Champion "Then It's War?" 41 
 
 He mused awhile and rapped his forehead with 
 the bony knuckles of his hand. This was a habit 
 he often indulged in when worried: affirming, 
 and seriously, " thet it shook th' ideas up, and 
 out of th' lot rattlin' round inside, he usually 
 got one good one." 
 
 He waited silently for the settling process, 
 then continued : 
 
 " Now, Mr. Gooddale Finton ( Slack never 
 could remember names) ef yer think yer kin 
 ketch any fish in these parts, yer've got ter hev a 
 dern sight better kind of bait 'n yer seem ter per- 
 sess up ter now. What's all this ere talk of a war 
 atween he and th' widder? Ef I thought " an 
 ominous scowl overspread his features, his eyes 
 flashed and the lines about his mouth deepened. 
 He thrust his hands deep into the pockets of his 
 trousers, and kicked a tuft of grass into the air 
 with his boot. This apparently eased his feelings, 
 but his speech was ominously distinct as he con- 
 tinued : " Ef I thought, but no, couldn't be, but 
 ef it wer' so, now I'll jest keep an eye on yer, 
 Mr. Finton, an' satisfy myself ef what I think 
 ye cum 'ere fer is so, er ef it isn't so. In other 
 words, whether Slack's right or whether Slack's 
 wrong. Ef Slack's wrong, then ther's no harm 
 done, an' no one'll be th' wiser. Ef Slack's right 
 " he whistled softly, and sent another tuft of 
 grass into the air, " well, ef I'm right, I'll give yer 
 a duckin' in th' bay 'n' a thunderin' good 
 thrashin' ter boot."
 
 42 Hester Blair 
 
 "Slack Dorkins!" 
 
 Slack's chuckle emphasized the delight that 
 shone in his eyes. He had never yet refused to 
 answer that call. His hand instinctively flew to 
 his hair. He grinned complacently and entered 
 the house.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 " MY LOVE, MY ONLY LOVE, MY WIFE ! " 
 
 I loved! 
 
 'Twas as awakening from a sleep, a dream. 
 For ages had the darkness of the blind 
 Encompassed me. The glories of the world 
 The sun, the moon, the stars, I had not known; 
 Nor felt the pulses quicken as the new 
 Morn incense steals with magic charm o'er land 
 And sea, and speak of God in voice that fills 
 The heart and brain with thrills of ecstasy. 
 
 "If 
 
 Y life," Featherly was saying, " has been 
 no better than the average young man 
 who finds himself with much money and 
 time at his command." 
 
 He was leaning over the arm of the rustic 
 bench on which Hester was sitting. Quiet 
 reigned, for the guests had gone, and Featherly's 
 aunt and Millie were alone in the house. The 
 evening breezes sighed amorously, and died into 
 soft whispers, for Love was abroad. Into Hes- 
 ter's cheeks had crept a truant blush, that deep- 
 ened till it put to shame the late roses climbing 
 over a trellis near at hand. 
 
 u You know what I would say, Hester if I 
 could, if I dared. My love has made a coward 
 of me. I came here old in knowledge of the 
 
 43
 
 44 Hester Blair 
 
 world's ways, to find that I did not know what 
 life was. You know I love you, Hester." 
 
 He tried to look into her eyes, but her glance 
 was fixed on the leaves she was fashioning into 
 a rustic wreath. 
 
 Age, somehow, is no respecter of the fiery pas- 
 sion that sets aflame the hearts and the cheeks of 
 young lovers. Judgment grows mature as pas- 
 sion and youth dies; and the grosser things of 
 life, that respect not love's young dream, take 
 possession of our latter years. Featherly's aunt 
 stepped briskly on to the portico. The goddess 
 of passion fled in dismay before this calm, debo- 
 nair, little woman, and she was in command of 
 the field. 
 
 Blue eyes that seemed faded through excess of 
 kindness; soft lips, and a gentle expression of 
 features suggesting a living interrogation, 
 which asked almost audibly if you were entirely 
 comfortable, or if she could in any way add to 
 your happiness ; a gentle voice that reminded you 
 of the fairy godmother of your youthful imagina- 
 tions; a dapper little figure crowned with wavy 
 white hair and adorned with the daintiest bit of 
 white lace that ever woman wore such was Aunt 
 Carry. The spirit of youth enveloped her for 
 her step was light, and her heart was yet in the 
 domain of childhood. She had found nothing 
 but good in the world for she had looked for 
 nothing else. To be mortal, she must have, at 
 least, one failing she loved her nephew with a
 
 "My Love, My Only Love, My Wife" 45 
 
 love that could not admit that in him, fault ex- 
 isted. But, somehow, even for that you loved her 
 the more. 
 
 " Tell me," she asked cheerily as she ap- 
 proached, "what are you young people discussing 
 so earnestly?" 
 
 Featherly loved his aunt he loved her ten- 
 derly; but he said something under his breath 
 that did not imply affection. Then aloud : 
 
 " Nothing of consequence, Auntie dear." 
 
 " Of no moment, I assure you. Sit here, Aunt 
 Carry," Hester said. She directed a laughing 
 glance at Featherly. He did not seem to enter 
 into the humor of the situation. 
 
 " Ah," smiled Aunt Carry, " you were just ex- 
 changing courtesies, not confidences. You young 
 people are too circumsp'ect, by far." Then with 
 a doubting glance, " I begin to think you were 
 talking about something." 
 
 " Auntie, dear," began Featherly in a concilia- 
 tory tone, " I was just saying " 
 
 " No matter what you were just saying, / say 
 that I want you to go to the village, and get me 
 three skeins of embroidery silk to match that." 
 She forced a piece of colored cloth into Feath- 
 erly's hand. 
 
 " But Aunty " 
 
 " Don't auntie me, but go," was her uncom- 
 forting reply. 
 
 " But Slack," protested the young man, " he'll 
 go."
 
 46 Hester Blair 
 
 " He most surely would, were he here and I 
 should ask him. But I wouldn't. You'll go." 
 
 Featherly w r as forced to surrender. He nerv- 
 ously tried to catch Hester's eye and lingered, 
 now in front, and now behind the seat, in vain at- 
 tempts to exchange a look or gesture, an un- 
 spoken word of love ; but Aunt Carry's vigilance 
 intervened. She talked to Hester but she looked 
 at her nephew. She was slow to understand his 
 attempts to enlist Hester's attention ; but she was 
 quick to perceive that he was loth to leave. Hes- 
 ter listened with interest to Aunt Carry, for they 
 were fond of each other ; but her color heightened 
 with the knowledge that Featherly was making 
 desperate efforts to meet her glance. Aunt Carry 
 looked up quickly. His eyes were fixed on Hes- 
 ter's face, which was assuming a dull scarlet hue. 
 For that one instant to him, in all the world, she 
 alone existed. 
 
 " Not gone yet? " queried Aunt Carry. 
 
 " No, just going," he replied. " I was waiting 
 that is, I was just about to start " 
 
 " Well do," she caustically replied, " I will 
 entertain Hester with little nothings while you 
 are gone." 
 
 " Thanks, Auntie dear. So kind of you. I'm 
 off!" 
 
 " Dear me ! " she said, after he had gone, " that 
 boy is a constant trial." 
 
 Hester looked in the direction Featherly had 
 taken. He was standing on the crest of the hill,
 
 "My Love, My Only Love, My Wife" 47 
 
 from where he telegraphed back hundred word 
 messages with his hands and arms. 
 
 " Hester dear," said Aunt Carry, " I dread to 
 think of the time when Ralph will consider mar- 
 riage. You cannot realize how it troubles me. 
 My brother's second marriage was unfortunate. 
 Why is it/' she continued in a tone which invites 
 the confidences that women of kindred likes or 
 interests indulge in, " how is it that a woman can 
 be so utterly devoid of feeling and the instincts 
 that should dominate a wife that they wilfully 
 wreck a man's happiness. My brother's first 
 marriage was childless. His second wife was 
 younger than he by many years. Hester, dear, 
 you can guess the rest a life of dissension, then 
 dishonor. A separation followed, and my brother 
 lives alone for, as you know, Ralph lives with 
 me. My brother's life is embittered ruined; 
 and he has one fear, one dread always with him 
 that Ralph will marry. It would mean my 
 brother's death, for since his own unfortunate 
 experience, he has become a confirmed recluse 
 his one interest, his one hope, Ralph. Thank 
 God, that the boy is heart free." She mused a 
 while, then continued, unconscious what her 
 words meant to her listener. Not a muscle of 
 Hester's face betrayed her. Her breathing was 
 measured but deep; her color came and went; 
 but other evidence of emotion she suppressed. 
 
 " I cannot blame him," Aunt Carry resumed, 
 " for Ralph's love is all that is left to him in life.
 
 48 Hester Blair 
 
 I tell you this, dear, because I have heard you 
 speak much of your father ; and I know were he 
 alive to-day that he would be first in your affec- 
 tion, and that you would long consider taking a 
 step which would shake his trust in you." 
 
 Hester rose. Her face was pale and, as she 
 leaned against the bench, Aunt Carry looked at 
 her with concern. 
 
 " Are you ill, Hester? " 
 
 " No," she replied. " Continue, I am listen- 
 ing." It was with an effort that she steadied her 
 voice. 
 
 " Kalph is aware of his father's wishes," Aunt 
 Carry sorrowfully resumed. " I know that I am 
 foolishly alarmed, but " she took Hester's hand 
 in hers " you are one in thousands, in goodness 
 of heart, in judgment. I feel at times as though 
 I must talk to some one. I can trust you, dear. 
 I have a mother's interest in Ralph. He is not 
 my brother's child he is a son by adoption." 
 
 Hester started, but did not speak. Aunt Carry 
 again took up her story. 
 
 " An estrangement between them would mean 
 a disclosure; hence you can readily appreciate 
 my fears." 
 
 While her companion in a gentle voice related 
 the facts that had cost her brother's happiness, 
 Hester's thoughts were of her own father his 
 untiring devotion, his love, and the life that he 
 had given to her own and her sister's education 
 and advancement. Unconsciously she shuddered
 
 "My Love, My Only Love, My Wife" 49 
 
 as the thought presented what his feelings would 
 have been had any act of hers during his life in- 
 terrupted his perfect trust in her. The question 
 of her future now rose before her, for she must 
 answer her lover but that answer she had al- 
 ready determined on. No thought of herself did 
 she entertain. Her duty seemed clear, and, 
 though w r ith her decision came the knowledge 
 that she must be false to her instinct of truth, yet 
 her sense of right decided the course that she 
 would pursue. But she was human, and her 
 lover's words rang in her ears; and she could 
 still feel the touch of his hand that had sent the 
 blood rioting through her veins. 
 
 With springing step, Featherly came up the 
 path from the village. 
 
 " Here, Aunty," he said, " is the silk ; and if 
 you love me, never send me again to buy thread. 
 They asked me if it were to mend a broken heart, 
 and then laughed me out of the store." 
 
 " There, there, Ralph, you will survive it. You 
 may now continue your little nothings with Hes- 
 ter." 
 
 She entered the house, and Hester rose to fol- 
 low her. As she was about to pass Featherly, he 
 took her hand in his. 
 
 " You are not going, Hester," he said, with a 
 show of confusion. " You will hear what I was 
 about to say when my aunt interrupted." 
 
 " I will remain if you wish it." 
 
 He looked at her eagerly doubt and fear in
 
 50 Hester Blair 
 
 his looks, in his bearing, in the tones of his voice. 
 He could not understand the change that had 
 come over her her indifference, her coldness. 
 Her manner spoke not of love ; and with a show 
 of patient interest and a reserved calm she w r aited 
 for him to speak. Her face was impassive, and 
 she met his gaze with a frankness which dis- 
 armed him. 
 
 " Hester," he said in a passionate voice, 
 " surely I had a right to believe " 
 
 " Little nothings," she laughed gayly. " Do 
 be sensible, Ralph. Remember that a summer's 
 love blooms yearly. It dies before frost time. 
 Dear me ! You young men are as impressionable 
 as a schoolgirl. Let us talk of something else." 
 
 Excitement had given added brilliancy to her 
 eyes. There was an unnaturalness to her gayety ; 
 but her lover's discernment was blunted by the 
 surprise that filled him. Her words he believed, 
 for in her eyes was tantalizing mirth assumed, 
 true, yet to him, at that moment, deadly real. 
 
 " Did then the little nothings," he said in a 
 broken voice, " mean everything to me and noth- 
 ing to you? Was I mistaken in believing that 
 you cared for me? Did your looks, your words 
 mean pity not love? " 
 
 He laughed, but it was not pleasant to hear. 
 At that moment had he looked at her, he would 
 have seen that she was deeply moved. With an 
 effort she controlled her voice. 
 
 " Now seriously "
 
 "My Love, My Only Love, My Wife " 51 
 
 " Don't," he interrupted almost savagely. 
 
 " You must hear me ! " her voice was tremu- 
 lous. " We have known each other but a few 
 months. I would not intentionally mislead you 
 I would not. I am sorry I " 
 
 Again he laughed. It grated on her hearing, 
 for there was no joy in the sound. He looked 
 out over the green fields, and the daisies and wild 
 flowers nodded derisively in the summer breeze. 
 The bees were singing their work-a-day song in 
 the trellis beside the porch, and in the hush of 
 early evening Hester's heart-beats became almost 
 audible. 
 
 " I do not blame you, Hester," he said sadly. 
 " After all, the Featherly fortune in love is still 
 with me. Like a vagrant flower, it is born only 
 to be crushed by a human foot. Yet I had hoped 
 that in the wilderness of an almost aimless life, a 
 hand had been stretched out to me. Poor fool ! 
 My father is not far wrong. All of which," he 
 said, turning to her with an attempt to smile, 
 " goes to prove that a Featherly should not love. 
 Voila, (fest tout! " 
 
 Hester's effort at self control was almost 
 superhuman; but the reference to his father 
 stung her to the quick. While she believed her 
 lover, even in thought, did not associate her 
 with the w T oman who had deceived his father, his 
 reference to her aroused her pride, and her voice 
 was unguarded as she answered : " Your father 
 was wronged deceived. I do not blame him "
 
 52 Hester Blair 
 
 He looked at her with questioning eyes. She 
 flushed guiltily, for her ardor had betrayed her. 
 
 " Hester," he said, " My aunt has told you. 
 Has the knowledge influenced your answer to 
 me? Could you would your answer have been 
 different" 
 
 He looked at her fixedly for some moments. 
 She could not meet his eyes, and the blood danced 
 to her neck and cheek. The silence confused her 
 the more. She looked up into his face and 
 waited for him to continue. 
 
 " What has my aunt said to you? " He had, 
 in a degree, recovered his calmness, and his tone 
 was natural. 
 
 " Ralph," she said, " were my father alive to- 
 day and his desire was that I should not marry, 1 
 would respect his wishes. His love for my sister 
 and myself was almost pathetic in its perfect 
 trust. Neither w y ould I have considered a love 
 that would ask me to turn from so plain a duty. 
 Your father's wishes should be respected " 
 
 " Hester," he said, there was tenderness in 
 his voice, " look at me." 
 
 She raised her eyes, but they fell before his im- 
 passioned glance. 
 
 " Tell me, Hester, that you love me." 
 
 She did not answer, but he held her close. He 
 kissed her hair, her cheek, her lips. Her color, 
 in waves, came and went, diffusing over neck 
 and cheeks. She tried to free herself, to protest, 
 to beg ; but he kissed the words from her lips.
 
 "My Love, My Only Love, My Wife" 53 
 
 " Hester, my love," he said, while he held her 
 face so close that his breath fanned her cheek, " if 
 you had succeeded in deceiving me, do you know 
 what it would have meant to me to my future? 
 I came here with a taint in me of the world's bit- 
 terness. I was floundering in a sea of unrest, 
 whose shores were strewn with the dead leaves 
 of unbelief, and the wreck of hopes that had come 
 to naught. My faith in womankind was not pro- 
 found, Hester love, for life, as I have seen it, 
 breeds not respect. Here, I was made ashamed, 
 for the life atmosphere was clear; and I received 
 my first baptism in the realm of a pure life. At 
 first I was afraid, for your eyes seemed to look 
 through me and into my ill-spent past, and now 
 now our future opens with a promise of life, of 
 love." 
 
 " But your father? " she faltered. " I must 
 not I will not consent to come between you. 
 No," she insisted as he was about to interrupt 
 her, " we must consider your father's happiness 
 as well as our own. I know his wishes. I shall 
 respect them; for he has suffered enough. We 
 are young we can wait." 
 
 He laughed softly. 
 
 " Can the flower ask the glacier that creeps to 
 the sea to wait upon its blooming? Can the hom- 
 ing dove be stayed in its flight? My heart has 
 found its resting place. Have I not waited?" 
 He checked her interruption with his cheek to 
 hers. " Besides, love, you do not know my fa-
 
 54 Hester Blair 
 
 ther. What my aunt has told you is true; but 
 I shall tell him all and he will consent." 
 
 With an effort she freed herself and stood be- 
 fore him. Tenderness, love, was in her eyes, but 
 there was also dread. A quiet determination, 
 a fixity of purpose, dominated her. There was 
 character in the very poise of her head, a self 
 confidence, coupled with a clearly defined pur- 
 pose. 
 
 " Ralph, dear, should I consent to our mar- 
 riage during your father's lifetime, I would feel 
 that my father's teachings had been forgotten. 
 We must wait, love." 
 
 Sally Pitts approached with an air of impor- 
 tance. Her mission was not long in doubt. She 
 handed Featherly a telegram, and looked on in 
 breathless wonder while he read it. He turned 
 to Hester. 
 
 " It is from my father. He desires me to come 
 to New York without delay, to consult me on im- 
 portant business matters." 
 
 " Sally," said Hester, " I will fit on your new 
 dress before it is time for you to return home." 
 
 Sally entered the house and Hester turned to 
 Peatherly. 
 
 " You will go? " she asked. 
 
 " Yes," he answered, " I must." He paused. 
 Then : " and when I return it will be to my to 
 my wife." 
 
 She cast a startled look at him. To question
 
 "My Love, My Only Love, My Wife " 55 
 
 him or reply was made impossible by the return- 
 ing guests, who were chattering with magpie 
 volubility. Their voices gladdened their own 
 ears ; nor did the supper that was waiting them 
 lessen their good-nature. In the kitchen, Millie 
 confided to the singing tea kettle, which was bub- 
 bling with content, that " they were a set of 
 giddy, little fools." Then she forgot her disdain 
 for the frivolous mortals for so long as it took her 
 to serve them for the second time with snow pud- 
 ding. " There is one consolation," she said as 
 she returned to the kitchen, " their appetites are 
 good, and while they eat, they can't talk." 
 
 The dusk of evening was wooing the night, and 
 Hester and Featherly walked slowly along the 
 beach. They were alone, and only the sea was 
 witness to Featherly's earnest, impassioned plea. 
 
 " The Eev. Dr. Coulton I can trust," he was 
 saying, " we were school fellows. I may add that 
 I made it possible for him to continue his studies. 
 I can count on his secrecy." 
 
 Hester's answer was almost inaudible. She 
 begged that their marriage be put off indefinitely. 
 She pointed out the possibility of discovery, and 
 dwelt upon his father's anger and the possible 
 rupture in their relations; but her pleadings 
 were met by her lover with his gentle but firmly 
 expressed resolve for their immediate marriage, 
 or a confession to his father and appeal for his 
 consent.
 
 56 Hester Blair 
 
 Hester made a last effort, but his arms were 
 about her in a passionate embrace. 
 
 " My wife." He sighed the words and the sea 
 was witness to his vow " my love, my only love, 
 my wife."
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 A SECRET THAT A LITTLE CHILD CAN KEEP 
 
 The ways of Heaven past finding are, 
 
 'Tis the steady gleam of the pale north star, 
 
 Directs the course of the mariner gray; 
 
 O'er the watery waste points out the way. 
 
 And a little child empowered may be, 
 
 To make or mar life's destiny. 
 
 SALLY PITTS, after much thought, arrived at 
 a conclusion, she had been forgotten. But 
 far from being cast down, or resenting the 
 oversight, she kissed Millie good-night, and, bent 
 on departing in a halo of good nature, sought the 
 one, who, above all others, was her confidante 
 and ally Slack. She did not have far to go to 
 find him. The fisherman's quarters were in the 
 rear of the house, and there she discovered the 
 object of her search. 
 
 Slack's shanty represented a porter's lodge, 
 overseer's headquarters, manager's office, and 
 fisherman's storehouse combined. It differed in 
 one essential from the ordinary fisherman's 
 shanty. In one corner of the room, which em- 
 braced the whole of the ground floor of the build- 
 ing, instead of the regulation " bunk ", stood an 
 iron bed covered with a white spread and linen of 
 
 57
 
 58 Hester Blair 
 
 fine texture, spotlessly clean, and arranged with 
 a woman's skill. In Slack's absence the work 
 was performed, and no protest on his part, " that 
 she needn't be so dern 'ticular," dissuaded Millie 
 from her systematic methods. The bed was, 
 however, a constant reminder to the occupant of 
 the room of order and cleanliness; and it stood 
 apart, a mute protest to the general disorder 
 that pervaded the room. Fishing nets, rowlocks, 
 oars, torn pieces of canvas, sails, a full rigged 
 miniature ship Slack's handiwork, fowling 
 pieces and parts of a boat's rigging, were strewn 
 in disorder about the floor, or hung in remnants 
 from the walls and ceiling. On the table was 
 an assortment of pipes of varying ages and 
 styles, from a clay to a beautiful meerschaum, 
 undergoing the delicate process of coloring. On 
 the walls, not given over to the accumulation of 
 years and dust, were tacked the portraits of the 
 pugilistic celebrities of the day. These, to Mil- 
 lie, were an offence against decency, and a never 
 failing cause for complaint. " What do yer 
 know about them critters? " she would scorn- 
 fully demand, " yer never see one of 'em in yer 
 life; an' as fer fightin' yer'd run ef one uv 'em 
 looked at yer." To which pleasantries the fisher- 
 man smiled complacently, and replied that " he 
 guessed he would." But among the periodicals 
 scattered around the room was one devoted to 
 sport; and among Slack's confidantes it was 
 known that his secret visits to Portland and
 
 A Secret That a Little Child Can Keep 59 
 
 Boston always occurred when an exhibition of 
 the fistic fraternity was announced in either city. 
 Of the object of these little excursions Slack 
 maintained a discreet silence; and the addition 
 of new photographs to the collection which 
 adorned the walls, passed unnoticed by the out- 
 raged Millie. 
 
 Sally discovered her champion seated by the 
 open window, smoking. 
 
 " Good-night, Slacky," she said as she ap- 
 proached. 
 
 Slack took the pipe that he was smoking in his 
 hand, " Yer ain't goin' air yer? " he asked. 
 
 " Yes, I'm goin'." 
 
 " But it's early," protested Slack. 
 
 " O, my no ! It's after eight ! " 
 
 " Be it? " Then with a laugh : " I know why 
 yer goin' so soon, yer afeered. Wan' me ter go 
 down th' hill with yer? " he asked. 
 
 A long drawn out " no " denied the imputation 
 of fear. 
 
 " Sally, yer be a regular torn-boy, and a night 
 owl ter boot." 
 
 " Isn't that funny? " she laughed, " that's just 
 what Dad says." Then in a stage whisper ; " Yer 
 don't know what Millie said about you to-night." 
 
 Slack's interest was deep and pronounced. 
 He hitched his chair forward. " What did she 
 say? " he asked. His tone of interest was un- 
 guarded. 
 
 Now Sally, woman-like, knew that her in-
 
 60 Hester Blair 
 
 formation would lose nothing of its importance 
 by delay. She naively demanded conditions. 
 
 " You won't tell? " 
 
 " Honor bright ! " vowed Slack. 
 
 " O, it's too funny ! " She wished to enjoy her 
 superior knowledge before divulging this choice 
 morsel. She was aware that her companion was 
 burning with impatience. 
 
 " Well, Sally, what be it? " Slack again asked. 
 
 " She said" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " She said you're sure you won't tell? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Well, you see I told Millie you were awful 
 good " 
 
 " Did yer? What'd she say? " 
 
 " She said O, I know you'll tell Aunt Millie." 
 Certainly it was worth a little more suspense. She 
 laughed softly and put her arm around the fish- 
 erman's neck, then continued : " She said she 
 thought so too. There, what do you think of 
 that? " She stepped back that she might better 
 observe the face of her listener. 
 
 " She didn't ! " he exclaimed rapturously. 
 
 " Yes she did, but that wasn't all she said." 
 
 " No? " he exclaimed gleefully. A look of 
 supreme joy overspread his features. He gave 
 his chair another hitch forward. " What else? " 
 he asked. 
 
 Sally laughed, and in a mysterious whisper 
 answered :
 
 A Secret That a Little Child Can Keep 61 
 
 " She said that of all men you were the 
 slackest." 
 
 " Yes," drawled Slack with mournful convic- 
 tion, " 'pears ter me I've heered thet before." 
 
 " Never mind," laughed the child, " Millie loves 
 you and I love you, and we all love you." And 
 with this declaration of universal good feeling 
 she was off. 
 
 Slack sat in deep meditation until the night 
 was far advanced. He had seen Hester and 
 Featherly leave the house and go in the direc- 
 tion of the village. This, in itself, however, was 
 a common occurrence. For the past few months, 
 they had devoted much of their time to each 
 other's society; and they often walked in the 
 early evening to the village, or along the beach 
 at the foot of the bluff. Not only was their in- 
 timacy a subject of remark by the members of the 
 Blair family, but was also a topic of gossip in the 
 village. 
 
 Slack felt keenly for John, whom he had known 
 since boyhood; and, realizing the depth of 
 his love for Hester, he knew the blow the young 
 lover was about to receive would strike deep. 
 
 Hester's daily intercourse w r ith Featherly 
 would lead to an estrangement between John 
 and herself. The fisherman's keen, watchful eye 
 had not failed to discover on Hester's part an un- 
 conscious formality in her treatment of John, 
 which was in marked contrast with their former 
 relations. That John did not fail to notice the
 
 62 Hester Blair 
 
 change in her, and realize its import, he was sat- 
 isfied. He saw it in his face, but by neither word 
 nor action did John betray his feeling ; although 
 with him, doubt was becoming a certainty; and 
 the future he had lived for had vanished. Yet 
 deeply as he felt for the young lover, much as 
 he desired the fulfilment of what he had always 
 looked upon as a foregone conclusion John's 
 marriage with Hester he was powerless to inter- 
 fere. He mentally counted the weeks and the 
 days until the end of the summer season, with 
 the hope that with the departure of Featherly, 
 normal conditions would be resumed, and Hester 
 and John be reunited. With these thoughts in 
 his mind he sauntered leisurely toward the house. 
 Sally, meanwhile, was walking idly along the 
 village street, wholly unconscious of earthly 
 things, and wondering if it were true that people 
 lived in the stars; and if heaven were really so 
 beautiful, why people should be afraid to die. 
 These were odd fancies for one of her age to in- 
 dulge in ; but Sally was an uncommon child. She 
 was given to vague, fantastic ideas, and they 
 found many and varied forms of expres- 
 sion. Loneliness appealed to her, and height- 
 ened her imagination. Instead of seeking as- 
 sociates of her own age, she was much with 
 those older than herself. She would roam 
 about the village at night, and from choice, 
 at the most unusual hours and places. The 
 village church was one of her favorite haunts,
 
 A Secret That a Little Child Can Keep 63 
 
 and here her father often found her sit- 
 ting alone, often in total darkness. She knew 
 no fear, and the quiet solemnity of the church, 
 the soft moonlight struggling through the stained 
 glass windows, and the air of mysterious quiet, 
 at once soothed her, and gave added life and zest 
 to her vivid, childish imagination. She could not 
 explain the desire that led her to visit the 
 draughty, barren little chapel, other than that 
 she thought and saw beautiful things ; and won- 
 dered that her listeners could not enter into this 
 unknown world with her. As she neared the 
 church on her way home, she could not resist the 
 temptation to enter. A light was burning in the 
 vestry at the far end of the church. No one was 
 to be seen, although she heard the rear door close 
 and the sound of footsteps on the board walk 
 that led to the parsonage. It was not quite dark 
 in the church, for an oil lamp in the vestry threw 
 a faint, sickly light, that died in vaulted space. 
 
 Sally seated herself near the door, and the high 
 backs of the pews almost hid her from view. She 
 watched the flickering light, and wondered why 
 it was there ; and wished that someone would re- 
 move it, as she would rather be in the dark. 
 
 The entrance of the Rev. Dr. Coulton inter- 
 rupted her conjectures. He seemed nervous and 
 preoccupied; opened the door many times and 
 looked out expectantly ; then, arranging the writ- 
 ing materials on the table, nervously fingered his 
 watch.
 
 64 Hester Blair 
 
 He was a man with an almost melancholy 
 countenance, scholarly in appearance, and had 
 the manner of one who regards life seriously. 
 He had lent himself to the marriage, asking no 
 questions, and with entire confidence in the man 
 who had befriended him. 
 
 Hester and Featherly entered by the front door 
 and stood directly opposite Sally. 
 
 " No," Featherly was saying, " it is safer than 
 to go to the parsonage; besides it is dark." 
 
 " This secrecy unnerves me," Hester replied. 
 " It is as though we were running away." 
 
 " Courage, Hester dear," replied Featherly, 
 " it will soon be over. A few minutes only and 
 we shall be man and wife. Come, they are wait- 
 ing." 
 
 They walked down the aisle of the church. The 
 minister greeted them at the door of the vestry. 
 
 " The witnesses? " demanded Featherly. 
 
 " Are in the parsonage," replied the minister. 
 " I will call them." 
 
 Sally crouched in the corner of the pew, her 
 eyes bulging from their sockets. Was this real? 
 Were they living personages? Yes, it was Hes- 
 ter's voice ; she was equally certain of Featherly. 
 Married! She whispered the word cautiously. 
 The sound of her voice filled her with terror. She 
 feared to breathe, and her heart beat until she 
 felt she should scream. She placed her hand over 
 her mouth, and with a determined effort tried to 
 think ; but the enormity of the whole proceeding
 
 " At length the import of what was takini 
 to dawn upon her." 
 
 place began
 
 A Secret That a Little Child Can Keep 65 
 
 filled her with inexpressible confusion; and she 
 gave herself up to watching what was taking 
 place. What if she should sneeze and betray 
 herself? They would never believe she was there 
 by accident. Holding her hand more tightly over 
 her mouth, she listened to the Rev. Dr. Coulton 
 as he read the marriage service. 
 
 At length the import of what was taking place 
 began to dawn upon her. Hester married and 
 to Mr. Featherly! John! She almost spoke the 
 word aloud. Since she could remember, the 
 names, John and Hester, had been associated. 
 She knew, as everyone in the village knew, that 
 they had been lovers since childhood. But what 
 did all this mean? She was half inclined to doubt 
 her senses. She had often imagined strange things 
 when she was alone in the church, especially 
 at night: had seen people coming and going: 
 heard strange music; and saw beautiful faces 
 when the moon shone through the colored glass. 
 But no. By the lamp-light that shed a faint 
 gleam over those at the end of the church, she 
 saw Hester and Featherly write something in a 
 book; saw the minister give a folded paper to 
 Hester; saw two men go out through the side 
 door, and the Rev. Dr. Coulton hold the lamp 
 high in the air to light Hester and Featherly to 
 the door. Sally waited in an ecstasy of fear for 
 them to pass out. If she could control herself for 
 one minute longer, she would be safe. 
 
 They halted in front of where the child was
 
 66 Hester Blair 
 
 sitting, and Featherly placed a cloak over Hes- 
 ter's shoulders. 
 
 " Hester, love, are you happy? " he asked. 
 
 " So happy ! " she replied, " but " 
 
 " If it will add one degree to your happiness I 
 will tell my father all. I know he will forgive 
 us." 
 
 " No," she answered in a tone of dread. " I 
 have made a vow that during your father's life- 
 time, I will not disclose our marriage. Promise 
 that you will keep it with me." 
 
 The intensity of her tone, he attributed to her 
 nervousness. 
 
 " I will," he answered solemnly. 
 
 As they turned to leave the church, the neatly 
 folded paper given Hester by the minister, drop- 
 ped to the floor. 
 
 Sally was on the point of exclaiming, but con- 
 trolled herself, and the door closed upon them. 
 The light disappeared, and the minister's foot- 
 steps on the board walk died in soft echoes. 
 
 It was some minutes before Sally dared breathe 
 naturally; and a longer time before she moved 
 from her cramped position. She did not dread 
 the darkness, but the awful secret which had been 
 forced upon her, filled her with terror. A half 
 hour previous what had been rows of straight- 
 backed seats, plain gloomy walls, lonely and deso- 
 late in appearance, prosaic to a degree, but hav- 
 ing certain fascinations to the little dreamer, 
 now seemed peopled with numberless conspira-
 
 A Secret That a Little Child Can Keep 67 
 
 tors, of whom she was the leader. The rustle of 
 her dress, when she moved, made her start in 
 terror ; and fear that was new and strange, took 
 possession of her. She thought she heard voices, 
 and was preparing to leave, but she could not 
 muster up courage to move. A night bird flut- 
 tered against the window and she crouched in 
 fright at the sound. The clock in the belfry 
 struck the hour and reverberated through the 
 empty church in unearthly sounds. It seemed to 
 her that it would never cease striking. She had 
 often listened to it with pleasure, but now its 
 brazen tones kept ringing in her ears. 
 
 The remembrance of the paper which Hester 
 had dropped, aroused her, and with trembling 
 fingers she groped about on the floor to find it. 
 Yes, it was there. She grasped it tightly in her 
 hand and crept cautiously to the door. Once out- 
 side, her courage returned and she hastened 
 homeward. Should she give it to Hester? They 
 would never believe she was in the church by 
 accident. No, she would keep it, and perhaps 
 Hester would tell her that she had lost it, and 
 then well then she'd disclose how she came to 
 find it. 
 
 Fear not, Hester. The ways of Providence are 
 past all finding. It has given your secret into the 
 keeping of a little child. She will fulfil the trust.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 "HO, SLACKY! YER DON'T SAY YER START 
 TERMORRER? " 
 
 As this 'ere's a time momentious, we'll not be at all con- 
 tentious, 
 Will yer kindly tell us, Slacky, if yer mean jest what yer 
 
 say? 
 Ef yer truly air a groin', why er course we don't mind 
 
 knowin' ; 
 
 Though yer might er told us, Hirum, all about it afore 
 to-day. 
 
 THE neutral ground where all questions of 
 private or public interest were discussed 
 with reckless freedom, was the village stora 
 Here, after a summer's work, the fishermen were 
 wont to congregate and exchange the gossip of 
 the country. Naturally, the summer visitors re- 
 ceived due attention, and many were the gibes 
 and coarse jokes indulged in at their expense. 
 The affairs and happenings of the past summer 
 were gone into in all their different aspects, and 
 the shortcomings of all were touched upon with 
 pitying scorn. Throughout the winter the dis- 
 cussion went on, and spring found the contest- 
 ants arrayed, some on one side, some on the 
 other, each upholding the views he entertained 
 the previous fall, their opinions divided by a gulf 
 
 68
 
 "Ho, Slacky!" 69 
 
 as wide and deep as the sea they fished. They 
 were a people of strong convictions, slow temper, 
 superstitious to a degree, and with a moral stand- 
 ard as rigid as their minds were narrow. 
 
 On a rainy night in September an unusual 
 number were assembled in the store, seated on 
 kegs and barrels, or lounging against the counter. 
 A fire in a large iron stove glowed cheerily; for 
 there was a damp chill in the air, and an oil 
 lamp sputtered dimly through the smoke-laden 
 air. Captain Edwards spat on the floor, and ad- 
 dressed his listeners generally. 
 
 " Tell 'em," he exclaimed, " yer kin tell 'em 
 same's yer kin tell a mess o' fish, by looking 'em 
 over. Ef they be a good lot they show it, and 
 contry-wise." 
 
 " This year's crop's a pretty scaly mess, I call 
 'em," Seth Binks rejoined. 
 
 Fortune had not smiled on Binks the past few 
 months, and his opinion of the departing visitors 
 was tempered by a lean purse. 
 
 " O, ther wern't so bad," exclaimed Portugese 
 Joe, " I managed ter charge 'em double price 
 most er th' time. I can't complain." 
 
 " Huh ! " drawled Seth, " you'd wring money 
 out of a jellyfish." 
 
 " Well," droned Joe, " thet's what they came 
 'ere fer ter spend money. I did th' best I could 
 ter help 'em." With a chuckle he continued: 
 "Yer know thet feller as stayed at th' hotel? 
 What's his name? Him as wore his pant-legs
 
 70 Hester Blair 
 
 rolled up, an' talked about th' glorious sea an' all 
 thet balderdash." 
 
 " O, you mean Mr. Redfern," answered Seth. 
 
 " Yes, thet's 'em," exclaimed Joe. " Well, he'd 
 been er botherin' me all summer, an' I was good 
 an' sick er 'im; an' th' last week he wer' 'er, I 
 thought er little taste er th' glorious sea wouldn't 
 be such a bad thing fer 'im arter all. I weighted 
 th' rudder uv my boat with lead, an' rigged it 
 so's it would sink when I let 'er go. O, I hed 'er 
 fastened with ropes! I'm not losin' rudders fer 
 'im. A stiff breeze wer 7 blowin' an' a bit ef a 
 sea was on, and when I hed 'im outside, I jest put 
 her up ter th' wind an' let th' rudder go. I yelled 
 ter 'im : th' rudder's gone ! Well thet feller turned 
 a pale green. We wer' shippin' water in sheets 
 an' buckets full, and I hollered ter 'im ter bail 
 fer his life. Ha, ha, ha," roared Joe, " yer shud 
 er seen thet landlubber work ! In two minutes he 
 wer' wet ter th' skin. I kep' 'im at it fer nigh on 
 ter half an hour with th' boat up ter th' wind. 
 Gum ! wasn't he a sight ! When I thought he hed 
 'nough uv th' glorious sea, I diskevered thet I 
 could steer with an oar. I brought 'im in, an' he 
 fell on my neck thankin' me fer saving his life. 
 I hev his picture thet he give me ter remember 
 'im by. Ha, ha, ha," laughed Joe, " them's th' 
 kind ! " 
 
 The roar that rewarded Joe's narrative was in- 
 terrupted by Captain Edwards. 
 
 " They do make yer laugh," he said, " with
 
 Ho, Slacky!" 71 
 
 their yachtin' clo'se 'n cheap airs. They don't 
 know 'nough ter bait er hook, an' es fer runnin' 
 a boat, ef I couldn't swim, I wouldn't trust my- 
 self in a boat with one of 'em in more'n three foot 
 er water. But I must 'low thet th' widder " 
 
 Boisterous laughter greeted his allusion to 
 Mrs. Pendleton. 
 
 " Better not let th' Commodore hear yer speak 
 of th' widder," yelled Joe. 
 
 " Th' captain wer' her last victim," Seth cried. 
 
 " Well," broke in the captain, " I will say " 
 
 " O, course yer will. Yer'll swear ter it ef th' 
 widder's consarned," interrupted a voice. 
 
 " Don't flatter yerself, Captain," cried another, 
 " yer only th' tenth. There be others ! " 
 
 " Now," interrupted th captain, " ef yer^ll hold 
 yer yop, I was about ter say thet th' widder was 
 th' senseblest one of the whole lot." 
 
 " Yes, an' th' best lookin'," declared Joe, " right 
 yer air, Captain, we don' blame yer a dern bit; 
 but O my! don't let th' Commodore git on ter 
 yer." 
 
 A cross fire of desultory remarks was indulged 
 in for some moments. Taking his pipe from his 
 mouth, Seth Binks spoke: 
 
 " What puzzled me was why this yer Fenton 
 stayed round here so long? " 
 
 " Well," drawled Joe, with the conscious air of 
 a "man who has something to tell of more than 
 ordinary interest, " p'r'aps now thet they're all 
 gone, I can enlighten yer."
 
 72 Hester Blair 
 
 A hush of expectancy settled on the group. Joe 
 continued : 
 
 " I was a corkin' my dory one arternoon on the 
 wharf what's used for a landing place." A com- 
 prehensive nod swept the group. " Yer see, thet 
 dory wer* behind er pile er empty barrels, an' yer 
 couldn't see her. I was workin' away, an' I sees 
 this yer Fenton comin' 'long in thet steam launch 
 er his, an' he lands on th' wharf. Jest as he do, 
 I hear a step comin' down th' wharf, an' I could 
 see Slack standin' right in front er Fenton, 
 though neither one uv 'em could see me. Slack 
 sez, ' Mr. Fenton, I'd like er word with yer.' 
 With thet, Fenton looked Slack over scornful 
 like, an' sez, ' be brief my man,' er hurry up, er 
 somethin'. Then Slack nearly took the wind 
 outer my sails, he sez : ' Yer come up ter th' Blair 
 farm pretty often er late. What d'yer come fer? r 
 Then Fenton began ter take some interest. He 
 said ter Slack, ' What's this damn imperti- 
 nence? ' ' Damn impertinence er no,' Slack sez, 
 ' I ast yer a civil question an' I want a civil an- 
 swer.' * Who in hell be yer? ' ast Fenton. ' I 
 have a right ter ask,' Slack sez, ' an' I tell yer 
 agin, I want ter know what brings yer ther' so 
 often?' They stood pretty nigh together. Fen- 
 ton was smokin' a cigarette. He tuck it outer 
 his mouth, an' whether or no he meant ter, I can' 
 say, but th' smoke puffed inter Slacky's face. 
 Now ef ther's one thing Slacky don't like it's 
 cig'rette smoke, an' what d'yer think he did? He
 
 " Ho, Slacky ! " 73 
 
 just knocked the dum thing out er Fenton's hand 
 inter th' water. Fenton made as if to raise his 
 fist ter strike. Slacky sez you know his drawl 
 O, it wer' beautiful! He sez quiet like, yer 
 know " Joe looked around. His listeners to a 
 man nodded assent. " Jest look out when yer 
 hear it: thet's all I've got ter say. Slacky sez, 
 * I wouldn't do thet ef I wer' you.' Then Fen- 
 ton sez, an' he was jest bilin' mad, ' stand aside.' 
 Yer see th' barrels tuck up th' hull o' th' wharf 
 an' Fenton couldn't pass Slacky. Well, Slacky 
 sez an' yer could put one o' them barrels atween 
 each word they wer' so slow an' soft like, l easy 
 er minute! I want ter say ter yer, thet I don't 
 want yer ter go up ter th' house any more, 
 an' thet settles it. Now think it over, Mr. Fen- 
 ton, think it over. Personally, I think yer a 
 damn rascal, an' ef yer do go ther' again well, 
 we'll settle thet th' next time we meet, an' it '11 
 be damn soon arter.' With thet shot Slacky 
 stepped ter one side, and Fenton walked away 
 an' yer shud er heered 'im cuss." 
 
 " What's Slacky got agin Fenton? " demanded 
 Binks. 
 
 Joe meditated before replying, " Well, I s'pose 
 everyone knowed thet he'd tried ter ketch onter 
 one er th' gals. What I jest tole yer took place 
 afore Hessie went ter New York ter live." 
 
 " She be a teachin' music ther', ain't she? " 
 asked one of the fishermen. 
 
 " Yes," answered Joe, " so they say."
 
 74 Hester Blair 
 
 " Thet's not all they say," one of the fishermen 
 rejoined. 
 
 Sam Pitts had been a silent listener all the 
 evening. Ordinarily of a taciturn disposition, he 
 rarely entered into their discussions or argu- 
 ments. At the last remark, he turned quickly, 
 and confronted the speaker with flashing eyes. 
 He was not easily aroused to anger, but when 
 crossed was a most formidable adversary, and 
 was shunned by the fishermen because of his 
 violent temper. A change had, however, come 
 over Sam in the last few months, and those who 
 knew him best could not explain it, or its cause. 
 He had stopped drinking; treated Sally with 
 tender consideration; and conducted himself in 
 a manner unlike the Sam of the past few years. 
 His reformation dated from an interview with 
 Hester some months previous. 
 
 For the past month Hester had been living in 
 New York. It was generally understood that 
 she was earning her living teaching music: 
 but the gossips in the village were busy with her 
 name. The female portion of the community in- 
 sisted that something was wrong; and wove a 
 network of mystery about her manner of living. 
 Sam had heard this gossip, and his old dogged - 
 ness came to the surface. 
 
 " Yes," he exclaimed angrily, " they say mor' 
 'n ther prayers, damn 'em! It takes a woman 
 ter ruin th' name er one of 'er kind. Ef it's not 
 one, it's another: now it's Hessie. Their damn
 
 " Ho, Slacky ! " 75 
 
 lying tongues ought ter be pulled out by th' roots. 
 I tell yer " his hand came down on the counter 
 with the force of a trip hammer and set the 
 glasses on the shelves to jingling " I tell yer a 
 woman's th' fust cousin ter th' devil leastwise 
 one thet gossips is." 
 
 No one in that gathering, even if they differed 
 from Sam, cared to argue the point with him. 
 After a moment's silence someone said: 
 
 " Where be Slacky these days? " 
 
 As if in answer to the question, the door 
 opened, and Slack walked into the room. 
 
 " There," exclaimed Joe, " talk about the devil 
 yer know th' rest uv it." 
 
 " And he's sure ter appear," continued Cap- 
 tain Edwards, " Slacky, how air yer? " 
 
 "O, middlin' good," Slack replied. "What 
 were you fellers sayin' about me? " 
 
 " Nothin' thet yer'd like ter hear, Slacky," an- 
 swered Joe with a laugh. " How be all the 
 folks?" 
 
 " Pretty good," answered Slack, " leastwise 
 they were when I last heered. When I get ter 
 New York, I'll let yer know more 'ticular." 
 
 " When Slacky gets ter New York ! ho, ho, ho, 
 ho," they roared, " when Slacky gets ter ha, ha, 
 ha, ter New York, he, he, he, an' goes sailing 
 down th' Bowery, ha, ha, ha." 
 
 Joe's voice evolved from the maelstrom of 
 mirth provoking gibes. 
 
 " They won't do a thing ter 'im," he shouted.
 
 76 Hester Blair 
 
 "Put up at the Waldorf - Asteria ?" yelled a 
 voice. 
 
 " Yer kin wear my silk tile," volunteered an- 
 other, " they ketch chaps like you in a net. Ho, 
 ho, ho, when der yer start? " 
 
 The answer fell from the lips of the unruffled 
 Slack. " Termorrer." 
 
 Laughter gave place to consternation. 
 
 " What, yer don't mean termor no, yer 
 jokin'!" 
 
 " Termorrer," repeated Slack blandly. 
 
 They were not wholly convinced ; yet they knew 
 Slack's manner of stating facts. They were non- 
 plussed for the moment; and a hush settled on 
 the assembly. 
 
 " Now Slack, none yer foolin'," broke in Joe. 
 No one, however, knew better than Joe that 
 Slack was in earnest. "Yer ain't jokin'?" Joe 
 queried. 
 
 " No," came the laconic reply. 
 
 Consternation was stamped on every face. 
 They looked into each other's eyes; then their 
 gaze was fixed in a stare of incredulous wonder 
 on the half-smiling countenance before them. 
 Here was an event; a subject of discussion that 
 would tax their best reasoning faculties for 
 weeks, yes months to come. They quickly jumped 
 to the conclusion that Slack's departure must 
 have some connection with Hester. But what? 
 That was the question they would be called upon 
 to determine. For the present it was their plain
 
 " Ho, Slacky ! " 77 
 
 duty to draw from Slack some further informa- 
 tion upon which to build their conjectural struc- 
 tures. Of ascertaining the plans or intentions of 
 the wily Slack, they had but slight hopes. It 
 was a delicate undertaking. Joe, with an in- 
 sidious smile, began the attack. 
 
 " When be yer acomin' back? " 
 
 " Dunno," replied Slack with a smile. 
 
 Realizing the difficulty of ascertaining the 
 truth, and the probable length of time necessary 
 to draw Slack out, Joe changed his plan of pro- 
 cedure. Addressing the proprietor of the store, 
 he said: "Bern' this is a moment'us occasion, 
 an' not knowin' when we are to see our 
 friend Mr. Hiram Dorkins agin (even Slack 
 started as his Christian name was uttered) 
 yer might bring on some ole cider, Char- 
 ley, an' some crackers 'n cheese, an' we'll 
 celebrate th' event as it's beflttin' we 
 shud." 
 
 When the cider had many times gone round, 
 Joe assumed his sweetest smile and returned to 
 the attack. 
 
 " Yer be comin' back? " 
 
 " Mebby," Slack's tone of unconcern was mad- 
 dening. 
 
 Joe gulped down half a tumblerful of cider. 
 His eyes, over the top of the glass, measured 
 Slack from top to toe. He met the glance with a 
 look of childlike candor. Joe became desperate 
 at his nonsuccess. He blurted out:
 
 78 Hester Blair 
 
 " Don't mean ter be inquisitive Slacky, but 
 what yer goin' there fer? " 
 
 " Ter work," quietly answered Slack. 
 
 Emboldened by his success and the hard cider, 
 Joe went a step further: 
 
 " What doin'? " he asked. 
 
 " D'n know." 
 
 " Well, yer know who yer goin' ter work fer? " 
 
 " Yaas," drawled Slack. 
 
 "Who?" queried Joe, leaning forward with 
 ill-concealed interest. 
 
 " Well," replied Slack with an air of commis- 
 eration, " being considerate by nature, an' know- 
 ing yer pumping process must er fatigued yer, 
 s'pose we wet up round with some er Charley's 
 Pine Tree Champagney." 
 
 This suggestion was acted upon with alacrity. 
 Joe's countenance wore a crest-fallen air: his 
 success so far was not pronounced. Slack could 
 with difficulty suppress a smile. His nonchalant 
 indifference, and the effect of the hard cider, was 
 telling on his companions: the one upon their 
 patience; the other affecting their heads. When 
 he thought their curiosity sufficiently aroused, 
 and their thirst momentarily allayed, he spoke: 
 
 " Well, ef yer be interested in a little matter 
 like my goin' ter New York, o'course I don't say 
 yer be, but if yer air, an' I never expected yerM 
 care a fishhook one way or t'other, I don't mind 
 tellin' yer, thet's 'lowin' yer'd care ter know "
 
 " Ho, Slacky ! " 79 
 
 " O, come ter th' pint ! " Joe exclaimed impa- 
 tiently, " come ter th' pint ! " 
 
 With an aggravating drawl Slack continued: 
 " Joe, yer be th' most impatient man I ever seed. 
 You must understand thet patience's a virtue, 
 an' yer'll never hev a better time ter practise it 
 then right now." With laughing eyes but a 
 placid face, he continued : " As yer done me th' 
 honor ter want ter know what I'm goin' ter do 
 in New York, I don't mind tellin' yer thet I'm 
 goin' ter work fer Mr. Featherly." 
 
 If Slack had wished to create a sensation, the 
 reception of this announcement must have glad- 
 dened his heart the effect was instantaneous. 
 The look of surprise stamped on every counte- 
 nance, was followed by a consuming thirst, and 
 to the last man, they drowned their chagrin at 
 not having even guessed this remarkable state of 
 affairs, in copious draughts. One of their num- 
 ber, overcome by the suddenness of the news or 
 the age of the cider, rolled from his chair to the 
 floor with an utter disregard of the eternal fit- 
 ness of things. 
 
 A storm of questions followed with breathless 
 rapidity, precluding any possibility of receiving 
 individual response. They all talked at once; 
 and by common consent and united action, strove 
 to drown their consuming thirst and conflicting 
 feelings of curiosity, chagrin, and the envy that 
 burned within them, with the year-old cider.
 
 80 Hester Blair 
 
 They gave vent to their enthusiasm in character- 
 istic and manifold ways ; to the detriment of bar- 
 rel-heads and various bits of crockery that rattled 
 from the shelves, in response to the vociferous 
 pounding on the counters, and the general up- 
 setting of things. Between periods in the de- 
 struction for the cider was getting in its work 
 they assured Slack that, " they knew dern well 
 soon's they heered Hessie 'd gone ter New York 
 as how he'd be agoin on ther." To which intelli- 
 gence the smiling Slack assured them " thet he 
 was satisfied that they knew all about it; an' 
 thet's why he hadn't mentioned it before." And 
 they pounded the assurance ; " thet they knowd 
 it all 'long," in lusty unison, till the glasses rat- 
 tled protestingly and spilled some of the good 
 cider abroad. 
 
 Someone discovered that the hour was late and 
 the cider was strong, for even cider has the 
 power of asserting itself, and they took a de- 
 viating course to the door ; but returned to drink 
 Slack's health for the twentieth time. 
 
 Slack assured them that he would, before his 
 departure on the morrow, be pleased to see them 
 all, individually and collectively, and shake them 
 by the hand. " Not," he added, " thet they cared a 
 rap where he went er what he did, but it was a 
 univusal custom." Then, smiling sweetly, he 
 drawled a " good-night," and was gone. 
 
 Joe looked long and vacantly at the door that 
 closed after the retreating Slack.
 
 "Ho, Slacky!" 81 
 
 " Dern me," he muttered, " but he's aggravat- 
 ing ! " Then with a mournful expression he con- 
 tinued, " an' we never even 'spected it." 
 
 Charley blew out the light as a gentle hint that 
 it was closing-up time.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 HESTER HEARS OF SLACK'S PLEASANTRIES WITH 
 THE COACHMAN 
 
 New scenes, new friends! Think you they fill 
 The heart, the life, with the sweet thrill 
 
 Of long- ago? 
 
 Can we replace the old with new? 
 Sweet memory rings the answer true: 
 
 No, no, ah, no. 
 
 IT was the early part of December. For two 
 months Hester and Ralph Featherly had 
 been living in New York City. Two months 
 of happiness, marred only by the fear that their 
 marriage might become known. 
 
 They paid for their happiness the price de- 
 manded by an exacting world eternal vigilance. 
 What first seemed to them an easy task, de- 
 veloped almost unsurmountable difficulties, that 
 multiplied as time went by. 
 
 The first link in the chain of a double life was 
 installing Hester in suitable quarters, but this 
 was quickly overcome. Featherly was the owner 
 of considerable residential property; and a cosy 
 flat near his home was ready for Hester's occu- 
 pancy when she arrived. It contained a studio 
 suitable for a music teacher. This was to be the 
 cloak on which they depended to cover the truth, 
 and to appease the suspiciously inclined. Here 
 
 82
 
 Hester Hears of Slack's Pleasantries 83 
 
 Featherly spent most of his time ; and they were 
 very happy. 
 
 This mode of life, however, was distasteful to 
 Hester in the extreme. Deceit and double deal- 
 ing were foreign to her nature ; and the constant 
 fear that their relations might be discovered, was 
 a source of apprehension that fretted her nerves 
 into a state of irritability. 
 
 But so perfect was her self-control, that Feath- 
 erly was unconscious of the feeling of restless- 
 ness that possessed her. She never alluded to 
 the dread of discovery that filled her waking 
 hours, fearing that her husband, giving way to 
 his impulsiveness, and to his desire to make her 
 entirely happy, might confess their marriage to 
 his father. Whatever slight hope she had enter- 
 tained of the elder Featherly becoming recon- 
 ciled to his adopted son's marriage, she was now 
 satisfied that they were beyond the hope of for- 
 giveness. It was not the rupture between father 
 and son that she most feared; but the effect of 
 the announcement on her husband that no tie of 
 blood existed between them, that he was a son 
 only by adoption. 
 
 The elderly Featherly had, at the time of his 
 second marriage, transferred large property in- 
 terests to his adopted son. Time and judicious 
 management had increased the value of this es- 
 tate, until the younger Featherly was wealthy 
 in his own right. 
 
 Slack had been for the last two months in
 
 84 Hester Blair 
 
 Featherly's employ. It was agreed, however, 
 that he was to return to Norton in the spring. 
 His true station was difficult to determine. At 
 the office and at Featherly's house he was known 
 as the " skipper," but, as his employer's yacht 
 had been out of commission for some months, his 
 duties were neither burdensome nor exacting. 
 Featherly's determination to employ Slack, was 
 not founded alone on personal regard for the 
 brawny fisherman. It was Hester's complete 
 confidence in Slack, and her affection for him, 
 that prompted Featherly to make the proposition 
 that the fisherman had accepted, and it was 
 Slack's desire to be near Hester that induced him 
 to leave Norton and make his home in New 
 York. City life was distasteful to him. He was 
 cramped by his surroundings, and ill at ease. 
 But no word of complaint was heard. Smilingly 
 complacent, he performed his duties and his 
 employer's ingenuity was taxed to invent them 
 with a fidelity and a tact that was as original as 
 it was complete. 
 
 John Gary seldom saw Hester. For the past 
 month he had been employed in fitting out a new 
 boat for his uncle, which was nearing completion 
 in one of the Maine shipyards. He made fre- 
 quent visits to Norton, but these visits were pro- 
 ductive of neither profit nor peace of mind ; for 
 the gossips of the village were busy with Hester's 
 name, and he always came from there filled with 
 resentful indignation.
 
 Hester Hears of Slack's Pleasantries 85 
 
 Ethel was at a boarding school for the winter. 
 Millie was in charge of the Blair home, and the 
 time not occupied with the care of the house, was 
 given over to fretful conjecture as to what Slack 
 was doing: and when she had a listener, to the 
 positive assertion that she knew something dread- 
 ful w^ould happen to him, "in that dreadful 
 place." And no assurance from her listeners that 
 " Slacky'd come pretty nigh ter takin' care uv 
 hisself," mollified her. 
 
 The pitfalls of a large city were dwelt upon ; 
 the spinster's excited imagination inventing most 
 horrible and unheard of temptations and dan- 
 gers. " Why," she'd exclaim, " it ain't safe ter 
 go out after dark, and yer know how terri- 
 bly unsuspectin' Slacky be. He's as inner- 
 cent as a child, an' as careless ; " and she 
 fretted the weeks away in ominous forebod- 
 ings. 
 
 The subject of Millie's fears was, in the mean- 
 time, in his own peculiar way, acquiring knowl- 
 edge of city life and of worldly ways at a rapid 
 rate. Theatres, concert halls of various degrees 
 of excellence and of no fixed moral standard, 
 were visited by the doughty fisherman. " I'm 
 here," he declared, " an' I'm goin' ter see th' hull 
 show." Nor were these excursions always with- 
 out incident. The stamp of his vocation was 
 upon him ; and his ambling gait, huge frame and 
 uncouth manner, furnished amusement that he 
 rather enjoyed than resented. Beyond that
 
 86 Hester Blair 
 
 point, however, it was not safe to tread; as a 
 few broken heads bore evidence. 
 
 It was evening. Hester sat at the piano, and 
 her hands strayed lightly over the keys, evoking 
 a progression of harmonious chords from which 
 a quaint melody was evolved. 
 
 Featherly entered softly and pressed his cheeks 
 to hers. 
 
 " O ! " she exclaimed, " you startled me." 
 
 " Did I? " he said. " Then I'll punish myself : 
 instead of two kisses I'll take but one." 
 
 " But why," asked Hester laughingly, " pun- 
 ish me? I'm not the offender, and the other kiss 
 belongs to me." 
 
 " Here is a dilemma ! " he exclaimed, " we'll 
 have to put off the punishment indefinitely. Now 
 little woman, I discovered a plaintive note in 
 your playing. You've been thinking." 
 
 " Yes, Ralph dear, I was thinking how happy 
 we'd be, if your father knew of our marriage, 
 and was reconciled." 
 
 " Hester, love, I will tell him to-morrow. I 
 know he'll forgive us." 
 
 " No," she declared in a determined tone. " It 
 is too late. Besides, your promise." 
 
 " O, what a determined little puss you are," 
 Featherly answered, " but, remember love, I have 
 not exacted any such condition. Let it be as you 
 say. Tell me, Hester love, are you happy? " 
 
 " Happy ! " she replied, " yes, so happy that 
 I fear to think "
 
 Hester Hears of Slack's Pleasantries 87 
 
 " What cause have you to fear? What can 
 come between you and happiness? " 
 
 " I know Ralph, dear ; but such a train of mis- 
 fortunes followed our marriage: the death of 
 your young friend, the curate, who performed 
 the ceremony; the destruction of the parsonage 
 and the church records by fire ; the disappearance 
 of the only witnesses; the loss of our marriage 
 certificate " 
 
 " Tut, tut, you are gloomy to-night," he 
 laughed, " tell me, have you heard from home? " 
 
 " Yes," she replied sadly, " they believe me 
 earning my living teaching music." 
 
 " That's too good ! " he laughed, " but it's true, 
 isn't it? Haven't you a studio? Don't you re- 
 ceive pupils? Am I not one of your pupils? " 
 With the utmost seriousness he continued, " I 
 don't know what you do with all the money you 
 earn. O," he laughed, " it's too good ! " 
 
 " I know love, but it's deception ; and really 
 at times I feel guilty " 
 
 " You are guilty," he exclaimed embracing her, 
 " not at times, but all the time of being my wife, 
 my lovely, lovable, loving wife. Do you know, 
 Hester, when I go to my place of business, I open 
 the desk in my private office, and inside I have- 
 what do you think I have? " 
 
 " Papers? " she asked. 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Books? " 
 
 " No, your portrait ! For no other eyes than
 
 88 Hester Blair 
 
 mine. And when I look at it, I say to an imagin- 
 ary friend, my dear sir, allow me to present you 
 to my wife; and I say it softly, again and again. 
 Ah! but the portrait can't compare with the 
 original ! " 
 
 " Ralph dear, how foolish of you, and we have 
 been married nearly four months." 
 
 " Foolish? I believe the world would consider 
 me so; not for being in love; but for being in 
 love with my own wife. It does seem strange in 
 this age of divided devotion. But tell me, love, 
 what did Millie say in the letter? " 
 
 Hester laughed softly. "To tell the truth," 
 she answered, " her letter was mostly devoted to 
 expressing her fears for Slack's safety." 
 
 Featherly laughed long and loud. Certain 
 episodes concerning Slack had come to his knowl- 
 edge ; and they were of a character that dispelled 
 any doubt of Slack's ability to take care of him- 
 self. 
 
 " Write to Aunt Millie," he said, " not to worry 
 about Slack." Then in a reminiscent mood, he 
 continued, " dear, tender hearted Millie ; yet she 
 withholds from Slack the word that would make 
 him the happiest of mortals. Do you know, 
 Hester, I have feasted on the best from Parisian 
 cafes to the oriental restaurants of Hong Kong, 
 and never found anything equal to Millie's pump- 
 kin pies." 
 
 " Her cream biscuits ! " Hester exclaimed. 
 
 " O, her cream biscuits ! her jelly-rolls ! How
 
 Hester Hears of Slack's Pleasantries 89 
 
 did she make the jelly-rolls? Fit for the gods! 
 And her roast chicken! Never was such roast 
 chicken ; and the dressing ! Mystery of mysteries. 
 Just enough sage, a dash of onion " 
 
 " Yes," interrupted Hester. 
 
 " But the plum-pudding " 
 
 " Ah ! the plum-pudding ! " 
 
 " With real plums " 
 
 "As large as that," said Hester, holding up 
 two, beautifully shaped fingers. 
 
 " Oh ! " exclaimed Featherly. 
 
 " Ah ! " rejoined Hester. 
 
 " Such pudding ! " 
 
 " Such sauce ! " 
 
 " Couldn't we have Millie send us a plum- 
 pudding, Hester dear? " 
 
 " Why yes, love," she answered. 
 
 " And when you write don't forget to ask her 
 to send some biscuit." 
 
 " Is that all, love? " 
 
 " Well," he rejoined with a satisfied air, " that 
 will do for the present." 
 
 They fell to discussing their home life at Nor- 
 ton and were very happy. The light from a large 
 piano lamp, softened by a Japanese shade, filled 
 the room with a warm, yellow glow of color. 
 Hester resumed her playing; and Featherly 
 threw himself on the couch and listened to the 
 soft harmonies that filled the room. She knew 
 what appealed to him and played on and on; 
 and he listened with contentment stamped on
 
 90 Hester Blair 
 
 his features. In the middle of a plaintive melody 
 he burst into a loud laugh. Hester abruptly 
 stopped playing and turned to him with: 
 
 " Why Ralph, what is it? I haven't laughed 
 to-night. Pray don't keep it all to yourself." 
 
 For a moment, Featherly could not control 
 himself, then spoke brokenly, laughing between 
 each sentence. 
 
 " Hester, dear, I told you my coachman had 
 left me." 
 
 " Yes," she answered. 
 
 " But I didn't tell you why he left." 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Well, I'd decided to say nothing about it, but 
 Millie's letter and her fear for Slack is too much. 
 You see, my former coachman, who is an English- 
 man with a very florid countenance, is conceited 
 in the extreme. The first week after Slack's ar- 
 rival he was at the house most of the time. I'm 
 fond of Slack, and I like to have him with me to 
 talk to. You understand? " 
 
 " Yes," smiled Hester. 
 
 " Well, the coachman, for some reason, did not 
 take kindly to Slack, for as you know, when he 
 arrived, he did not look w r hat might be called city 
 bred." 
 
 " No," laughed Hester, " he didn't." 
 
 " The coachman, who is a capable, though over- 
 bearing man, improved every opportunity to poke 
 fun at Slack, assured him that it wouldn't be safe
 
 Hester Hears of Slack's Pleasantries 91 
 
 to go out alone, and, emboldened by Slack's show 
 of absorbing all the ridiculous advice he offered, 
 became rather personal in his remarks. Slack 
 stood his treatment for about a week. What fol- 
 lowed I gathered from the footman. Slack re- 
 fused to talk, and I couldn't believe Joseph, the 
 coachman. The footman's version, to quote him 
 as well as I'm able, was like this : i I 'eered Jo- 
 seph laughin' very loud, sir, and then I 'eered 'im 
 a howlin' an' cryin' murder, an' I runs out sir, 
 an' ther' wer' Mr. Dorkins a playin' foot-ball wi' 
 Joseph; an' Joseph's nose was runnin' blood in 
 a stream, sir. 'E tossed 'im about sir, as ef 'e wer* 
 a tennis-ball, then 'eld 'is 'ead under the faucet 
 till Joseph begged sir, thet's all I know sir! ' 
 Ha, ha, ha," laughed Featherly, " I believed every 
 word of it when I saw Joseph three minutes after 
 the set-to, for he was a sight to behold ! " 
 
 Astonishment prevented Hester from replying 
 for some seconds. " Slack ! " she exclaimed. " It 
 seems incredible! What did he say? " 
 
 " Told me he hadn't had so much fun since he 
 had the measles." Featherly's laugh rang 
 through the room. 
 
 "But you reprimanded him?" Hester's tone 
 was severe. 
 
 " Em, well, you see, Joseph demanded Slack's 
 discharge. I quietly explained to Joseph, that 
 much as I felt inclined to grant his request, it 
 was impossible, as Slack was a near connection;
 
 92 Hester Blair 
 
 and, that's how I lost my coachman. I then or- 
 dered Slack into the library " 
 
 " Yes," exclaimed Hester expectantly. 
 
 " And," continued Featherly, " we drank a 
 bottle of champagne together." 
 
 " And you said nothing to him? " 
 
 " Only to drink his health," he laughed, " Slack 
 refused to talk of the encounter further than 
 to say that ' the lobster-faced Englishman was 
 too dern easy ! ' 
 
 " Ralph dear, you'll spoil Slack ! " Hester's 
 tone was reproachful. 
 
 " Hester love, believe me, Slack has long since 
 passed the age when spoiling is possible. He is 
 as well seasoned inside, as is his tough weather- 
 beaten face. I have no better man in my employ : 
 no one whom I'd more readily trust to carry 
 out an order, with absolute surety of its proper 
 performance than Slack ; allowing, of course, it 
 were within the scope of his ability. As far as 
 Joseph is concerned, he received his just deserts ; 
 and my regret in the matter," he laughed, " is 
 that I missed the fun." Featherly received a re- 
 proving look that melted into a smile. 
 
 " Hester," he said after a pause, " some of our 
 friends are coming to call to-morrow evening, 
 and Aunt Carry wants you to be present. Quite 
 an informal little affair, music and tea " 
 
 " Ralph," she replied, " I dread " 
 
 "Pooh!" he exclaimed, "you know them all, 
 Mrs. Pendleton, Fenton and the rest."
 
 Hester Hears of Slack's Pleasantries 93 
 
 " Hester's face clouded. She disliked Fenton, 
 and in a sense, feared him. She had met him at 
 her husband's home ; and his insinuating manner 
 was particularly offensive to her. Often she had 
 discovered his gaze fixed upon her ; and her self- 
 control had been taxed to its utmost. Her con- 
 stant fear of discovery made her abnormally sen- 
 sitive; and she imagined that he suspected her 
 relations with Peatherly. Another cause for 
 anxiety, was her husband's unguarded manner 
 towards herself when in the company of their 
 friends. She had expostulated with him, but he 
 always laughed at her fears, assuring her that 
 she was needlessly alarmed. Hester had never 
 spoken to her husband of her feelings toward 
 Fenton; but she was ill at ease in his com- 
 pany, and avoided him as far as was possible, 
 without giving actual offence. 
 
 " Of course, I will go if you wish it," she said, 
 " but I almost dread meeting people ; you are 
 so so " 
 
 " Well," he interrupted, " I am so what? " 
 
 " Unguarded," she replied. 
 
 " Dear me ! " he exclaimed, " Unguarded ! 
 Why I feel as if we were living in an atmosphere 
 charged with treason; with plots for the over- 
 throw of the existing form of government; and 
 of designs against the lives of our friends. I 
 have to weigh each word I utter, until I am actu- 
 ally contracting the stammering habit. I want 
 to cry out our marriage from the housetops ; in-
 
 94 Hester Blair 
 
 vite all our friends to witness our happiness, and 
 
 and " 
 
 " Ralph dear," Hester interrupted, " it is ten 
 o'clock."
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 MRS. PENDLETON : " AND THEY MADLY LOVE EACH 
 OTHER ! " 
 
 "And how they love! No voice, no tongue 
 
 Could tell the rapture that they know. 
 The dears! Ah, me! I too, was young; 
 And not so very long ago." 
 
 IT was early evening of the following day. 
 Featherly and Dr. Raddy were seated in 
 the library of Featherly's home. The doc- 
 tor, who had been the family physician for the 
 past twenty-five years, was a smooth faced, pleas- 
 ant featured little man of sixty, and enjoyed the 
 confidence of both father and son. His manner 
 was blunt and outspoken; and he scowled un- 
 speakable things at his patient. 
 
 " My dear doctor," said Featherly, " you are 
 a prince of good fellows, but you consider it your 
 duty to lecture me weekly about my mode of liv- 
 ing. I would be seriously concerned about my 
 health, were it not that I don't believe half that 
 you say. Now isn't it a fact that you exaggerate 
 the danger?" 
 
 " Not a bit of it," answered the doctor gruffly. 
 " You must stop this thing. You don't realize " 
 
 " Yes I do," laughed Featherly, " of course I 
 do. Haven't I stopped it? I drink only the most 
 
 95
 
 96 Hester Blair 
 
 harmless kind of wine; I limit my smoking to 
 eight cigars a day " 
 
 Dr. Baddy threw up his hands in disgust. 
 Featherly continued : " I lead a most exemplary 
 life " 
 
 " Yes, yes," broke in Dr. Raddy, " a most ex- 
 emplary life! And you are to entertain a few 
 friends to-night. A few friends! Don't I know 
 what that means? Music! Dancing! Excite- 
 ment ! Don't talk to me about a few friends. I 
 was young myself once. Bah ! " Featherly 
 laughed and walked to the doctor's side. 
 
 " Yes," he said, " I have no doubt that you were 
 as gay as any of them? You are not yet old, 
 doctor." 
 
 " There, there, I can't make you understand 
 that your heart " 
 
 " That's just it," Featherly answered with a 
 merry laugh, " the heart you have patched up, 
 tinkered with and kept going for the past num- 
 ber of years, I have lost ; and I have acquired pos- 
 session of one as sound as a gold dollar fresh 
 from the mint. It beats with the precision of an 
 eight-day clock, and " 
 
 " Dash your nonsense ! " exclaimed the doctor 
 excitedly, " must I tell you again " 
 
 Featherly raised his hand with a deprecating 
 gesture. " No ! " he exclaimed, " in Heaven's 
 name don't! Let me tell you something: fol- 
 lowing your very excellent advice to avoid excite- 
 ment, I have taken up the study of music."
 
 Mrs. Pendleton 97 
 
 " Yes," came the scoffing reply, " the study of 
 music-halls. I know the kind of music you 
 study." 
 
 " Quite wrong," Featherly laughed, " I am 
 studying the piano! I devote all my spare time 
 to it. I expect my preceptress shortly." 
 
 " Fiddlesticks ! " ejaculated the doctor. 
 
 " No, no," expostulated Featherly, " not fiddle- 
 sticks piano, piano ! " 
 
 " Em-m ! " muttered the doctor. " I have no 
 patience with you." 
 
 Further reprimand was interrupted by the en- 
 trance of Aunt Carry. She beamed on Dr. 
 Raddy, whom she held in high esteem, and shook 
 his hand warmly. 
 
 " My dear Dr. Raddy," she said, " how glad 
 I am to see you! Have you lectured this 
 boy?" 
 
 " Aunty dear," answered Featherly, " the doc- 
 tor never lectures. He's too good-natured." 
 
 " I'm out of patience with him ! " the doctor 
 exclaimed. 
 
 Aunt Carry answered, " We must allow he's 
 doing better. When he's at home which is not 
 often he's strumming on the piano. It's turn, ti, 
 turn, turn, te, te, turn," she held up her hands 
 and went through the motions illustrative of 
 piano playing. Then with an air of assumed an- 
 noyance : " He nearly drives me mad ! " 
 
 " Now will you believe me? " asked Featherly 
 of the doctor in a tone of triumph.
 
 98 Hester Blair 
 
 The doctor turned sharply to the young man, 
 then to Aunt Carry. 
 
 " He's away from home much of his time, you 
 say? " 
 
 " Yes," Aunt Carry replied, " studying the 
 piano, he says." 
 
 " Lady teacher? " The doctor's voice had a 
 rising inflection. He looked sharply at Peath- 
 erly, who laughed softly. 
 
 " A charming person whom we visit summers,''' 
 Aunt Carry replied. " At present, she's living 
 in New York, teaching music." 
 
 " Ha ! " ejaculated the doctor in a tone that 
 implied that further explanation was unneces- 
 sary. 
 
 Aunt Carry, misinterpreting his meaning, laid 
 her hand on his shoulder. She looked anxious. 
 " You don't think it injurious to his health? " she 
 asked. 
 
 " Em ! " growled the doctor, casting a look at 
 Featherly, " I'll have to watch the symptoms." 
 
 " Miss Blair is coming shortly," Aunt Carry 
 said. 
 
 " To give me my music lesson," added Feath- 
 erly. He couldn't resist the temptation to raise 
 the doctor's ire, and winked at him knowingly. 
 
 " Bah ! " was his reward, uttered in a disdain- 
 ful tone. " So you have quit the tra, la, la, for 
 the tra, la, le." The doctor danced a few steps, 
 which moved Aunt Carry to such a degree that 
 she joined him, until he looked up with a con-
 
 Mrs. Pendleton 99 
 
 fused expression, as if discovered in an act en- 
 tirely out of keeping with his professional dig- 
 nity. 
 
 " Very good," laughed Featherly, " perhaps 
 you'll consent to stay and spend the evening with 
 us. Charming company, I assure you." 
 
 " Humph," came the answer. " Young man, I 
 know you ! " 
 
 Hester appeared at the door. " Pardon me," 
 she said, " they did not tell me that you were en- 
 gaged." 
 
 " The doctor just dropped in for a social chat," 
 said Featherly. He stood behind Hester, and 
 signalled to the doctor to say yes. The doctor 
 took his hat from the table. Featherly con- 
 tinued : " You see, Miss Blair, the doctor is a 
 great lover of horses, and we were just discussing 
 Mr. Blake's new purchase." 
 
 " I was saying to Mr. Featherly," began the 
 doctor. Featherly interrupted. 
 
 " The doctor was inviting me to look at Blake's 
 horse. He says it is bound to make a record. 
 You see, Miss Blair " Featherly was shaking 
 the doctor's hand violently and forcing him to- 
 ward the door " the doctor hasn't forgotten his 
 horse-racing days. Have you doctor? " 
 
 The doctor did not answer, but bowed to the 
 ladies and took his leave ; from the hall, shaking 
 his fist at Featherly, whose laugh followed him 
 to the door. 
 
 " Hester, dear," said Aunt Carry, " I'm glad
 
 ioo Hester Blair 
 
 you came early. It's another music lesson I 
 suppose ; and you young people won't allow spec- 
 tators." 
 
 " Do remain, Aunt Carry," said Hester. 
 
 Featherly put his arin about his aunt and led 
 her to the door. 
 
 " Aunty dear," he said, " I love you, and I 
 dearly love to be with you " he paused, then 
 continued, " except during music lessons." 
 
 She smiled at Hester and went out 
 
 " Ralph," anxiously inquired Hester when they 
 were alone. " Why does the doctor call so often? 
 You are not ill?" 
 
 " My dear," he replied, " how little you know 
 of doctors. Of course I'm not ill ; but Dr. Raddy 
 sends in a yearly bill of enormous length, and he 
 must do something to earn it : so he drops in and 
 talks of horse racing and politics, and gives me a 
 little advice. What do you think he recom- 
 mended to-day? " 
 
 " I couldn't guess," she replied. 
 
 " A trip to Europe," he answered blandly. 
 
 " A trip to Europe? " she asked with interest. 
 
 " Exactly," replied Featherly, " just what we 
 had planned for next summer. Isn't he a dear 
 old fossil? But I forgive him, because he gives 
 no physic ; and his advice is of the most agreeable 
 kind." 
 
 " Ah," exclaimed Hester, " I'm sure he's a 
 good, kind soul." 
 
 " Good ! Why, he's worth his weight in gold !
 
 Mrs. Pendleton 101 
 
 I mean his visits are. He comes in pleasantly; 
 talks of social affairs; smokes one of my very 
 good cigars; forgets to feel my pulse; advises a 
 trip to Europe; looks very professional when 
 about to go all doctors must do that, of course 
 and departs smiling. At the end of the year 
 the bill comes in Jan. 23d advice, $25. O, it's 
 a great profession, filled to overflowing with 
 great frauds, and upon my honor Dr. Raddy is 
 one of the biggest! But I forgive him, he's so 
 good natured about it." 
 
 " And was that all he said to-day? " 
 
 "Quite! Wasn't it enough? You didn't ex- 
 pect him to advise a trip around the world?" 
 
 " But didn't he say you were not quite so well 
 as " 
 
 " O, dear no," came the calm reply, " he didn't 
 have time to talk of my health. But about my 
 music lesson! My dear, we are wasting time 
 talking of frivolous matters. Do, sol, fa, mi," 
 he sang; then seating himself at the piano, he 
 drew forth most horrible and nerve-racking 
 sounds. 
 
 Whether Featherly acted wisely or justly in 
 keeping from Hester the knowledge of his true 
 physical condition is difficult to determine. No 
 doubt can be entertained of his purpose, which 
 was to save her from what he deemed unneces- 
 sary worry. He had been told, many times, that 
 he was afflicted with an organic disease of the 
 heart that might terminate fatally. He had been
 
 IO2 Hester Blair 
 
 warned against excitement, and forbidden the 
 use of stimulants or tobacco. As he expressed 
 it, " he had been hedged in by conditions that 
 were worse than the disease." He laughed at the 
 advice given him, declared that the doctor didn't 
 believe what he said, and went on his way en- 
 joying life to the top of his bent. The elder 
 Featherly was aware of his son's condition ; but 
 the young man laughed away his father's advice 
 and fears, telling him that, " Dr. Eaddy was an 
 alarmist and only fit to administer to cats and 
 old women," which latter assertion he did not in 
 the least believe. He disliked all reference to his 
 health ; and his aunt, respecting his wishes, never 
 referred to it except in the presence of Dr. 
 Raddy. 
 
 The music lessons were more a source of pleas 
 ure than of profit, musically. Featherly's at- 
 tempts at acquiring the art took the form of ad- 
 miration of Hester's hands, caresses promiscu- 
 ously bestowed on her neck, hair and cheeks ; and 
 a fixed purpose to converse upon any subject ex- 
 cept music but from choice, Norton. He naively 
 remarked that music was a growth, and it was 
 unhealthy to force it by extraordinary exertions ; 
 and he would add, " how much pleasanter it was 
 to talk." 
 
 There was just sufficient peril in their daily in- 
 tercourse to lend a zest and fascination to his 
 life. He did not, like Hester, fear the result of
 
 Mrs. Pendleton 103 
 
 discovery, and were it not for her sake, he would 
 almost have welcomed it. 
 
 They kept up a desultory attempt at music, 
 varied by much laughter, until further progress 
 was interrupted by Mrs. Pendleton's voice. 
 
 " My dear Aunt Carry ! I'm delighted ! Music 
 lesson! Do you believe Ralph could ever learn 
 to play a piano? " Aunt Carry's answer was un- 
 intelligible. 
 
 " Don't believe it ! " Mrs. Pendleton rejoined. 
 " He hasn't one particle of music in him. But 
 (laughing) he has excellent taste and judgment 
 in his selection of a teacher. I must go in and 
 see the dears ! " and Mrs. Pendleton bustled into 
 the drawing-room all smiles and kisses and 
 well, it was good to see her once more. 
 
 " Hester dear, you don't know how happy it 
 makes me to see your dear face again." 
 
 That, it must be confessed, was a woman's 
 speech, and was quite what was expected of her. 
 Nine out of ten women, knowing Hester, and 
 entering the room, would have said the same 
 thing varying only the phraseology. Mrs. Pen- 
 dleton differed from most women; she meant 
 what she said. With equal candor she addressed 
 Featherly. 
 
 " Ralph, tell me, you aren't seriously but no ! 
 impossible! ha, ha, ha." 
 
 Her silvery laugh vibrated through the room 
 filling their hearts with joy, and died in little
 
 1 04 Hester Blair 
 
 waves of sound. It was honest mirth, and good 
 to hear. She continued ; " Music ! Divine Art ! 
 When did you discover the spark burned within 
 you?" 
 
 " If you doubt my ability," he answered with 
 mock austerity, " pray allow me to demon- 
 strate " 
 
 " No ! " she exclaimed, " In Heaven's name, 
 don't!" 
 
 How near the truth Mrs. Pendleton guessed 
 when she considered the relations existing be- 
 tween Hester and Featherly is only conjectural. 
 It will never be known ; for, again, unlike most 
 women, she was not given to speaking her 
 thoughts, or of telling that which she did not 
 know ; which went to prove that she was a most 
 uncommon representative of her sex. She was 
 quite satisfied to view their attachment from a 
 seemingly disinterested distance, and, not losing 
 a single tell-tale look, word, or the love signs 
 which she knew so well, appeared to be wholly 
 unconscious of what was taking place in the little 
 love-w T orld of Hester and Featherly. They were 
 quite satisfied that they were deluding the 
 universe; and self-conscious to a degree, of their 
 profound caution and cleverness. " The dears," 
 she'd whisper to herself, " aren't they lovely ; and 
 they believe they are the only two people on earth 
 who know of their happiness. They remind me 
 of two school children who have been up to some 
 mischief, and sit down to the supper table under
 
 Mrs. Pendleton 105 
 
 the eyes of a mamma who was once young herself. 
 It's perfectly delightful to watch them. She's 
 suffering from fright, and a desire for conceal- 
 ment, of what, I cannot say; he doesn't seem to 
 care if all the world knows he's rapturously 
 in love with her, and I shouldn't think he 
 would. She's lovely! Ah, me! / was once 
 young, and not so long ago." Turning her head 
 archly to one side, she stealthily glanced into a 
 mirror, which reflected the lines of her beauti- 
 fully moulded neck, and sighed satisfactory ap- 
 proval. 
 
 " Tell me, Hester," Mrs. Pendleton asked, 
 " does he make an attempt at playing? " 
 
 " Indeed yes," Hester replied, looking up at 
 Featherly, whose eyes were fixed on her in un- 
 conscious admiration. The blood danced to her 
 neck and cheeks, and she flashed a reproachful 
 glance at him. Mrs. Pendleton took occasion to 
 give way to silvery laughter that brought the 
 guests into the room inquiring interest stamped 
 on their faces, as to the cause thereof.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE RECEPTION 
 
 The mad intoxication of the dance, 
 And sounds enchanting, to the revelry, 
 Lend sensuous aid. 
 
 THE drawing-room of the Featherly house 
 was unique. The furnishings denoted ex- 
 treme good taste, from the Khursan and 
 Karmen rugs, and the soft, velvety textures from 
 Turkman that covered the floor, to the stuccoed 
 ceiling, ablaze in bronze and gold. The walls 
 were covered with tapestries of exquisite designs 
 specimens of a master's craft. On one side of 
 the large room hung a Gobelin, a Venetian 
 scene; on the opposite wall was a Beauvais, rep- 
 resenting a court dance during the reign of Louis 
 XIV. ; both priceless specimens of the art of the 
 seventeenth century. A few paintings adorned 
 the walls, but these were representatives of the 
 owner's knowledge of art and of his good judg- 
 ment, for they were masterpieces. It was dis- 
 tinctly a bachelor's apartment; yet there were 
 little touches here and there that betrayed a 
 woman's hand; and Aunt Carry's supervision 
 
 106
 
 The Reception 107 
 
 was unobtrusively manifest. The effect of it 
 all was an air of luxurious comfort, soothing to 
 the senses and pleasing to the eye. 
 
 The guests, eight or ten in number, entered 
 unannounced, singly and in pairs. Featherly 
 rose and smiled his welcome. 
 
 " My dear Featherly," said one of the gentle- 
 men, " We believed we should be the first to ar- 
 rive. You see, Miss Blair," he said, turning to 
 greet Hester, " our host encourages us in drop- 
 ping in on him unannounced. With him, where 
 formality begins, friendship ends." 
 
 Featherly answered, " Friends who are wel- 
 come need no announcing ; others may not enter. 
 This is the border-land of Bohemia." 
 
 In the most informal manner they exchanged 
 greetings. They were a representative New York 
 gathering of the young, wealthy, and cultured 
 class. Enjoyment was their chief occupation; 
 and, beyond discussing the latest popular novel, 
 new play or opera, their mental activity was 
 neither far reaching, nor exercised to the danger 
 point. They were mostly ciphers in the social 
 and intellectual fabric ; their butterfly existence 
 spiced with a little vicious gossip; the entry of 
 a new face or the dropping out of an old one. 
 Their world revolved within the radius of a few 
 dozen families whose origin was enveloped in 
 clouds of disputed facts; whose ancestors, with 
 a woman's kindly desire to particularize, were 
 referred to as dairy maids on the one side, and on
 
 io8 Hester Blair 
 
 the other, trades people, not remarkable for their 
 high moral standard in methods or means of ac- 
 quiring wealth. But these little whispers, that 
 were never meant to be overheard, did no par- 
 ticular harm; and added a relish to their lives 
 that was highly palatable. 
 
 A group of three or four ladies were talking to 
 Hester. The gentlemen were in earnest discus- 
 sion near the door that led to the large dining 
 hall. Miss Ainsley spoke: 
 
 " My dear Miss Blair, we have been listening to 
 the romance of Mr. Dorkins and your old house- 
 keeper. Let me see, Mollie is her name? " 
 
 " Millie," corrected Hester. 
 
 " Dear me, of course ! And this Mr. Dorkins 
 is a famous boatsman and fisherman, and quite a 
 character." 
 
 " Why," interrupted Mrs. Pendleton, " didn't 
 you know that he's living in New York? He's in 
 Mr. Featherly's employ." 
 
 " Impossible ! " exclaimed the first speaker in 
 a tone of surprise that was refreshing in its un-; 
 guarded naturalness and manifest interest. 
 
 " Quite possible," affirmed Mrs. Pendleton. 
 
 Miss Ainsley, in whom Slack had awakened a, 
 consuming interest, interrogated Hester with her 
 eyes. 
 
 Hester answered quietly, " He has been with 
 Mr. Featherly for the past month." 
 
 "Here! in this house?" exclaimed a guest.
 
 The Reception 109 
 
 " Ladies ! The hero of the twenty years' love 
 romance ! " 
 
 " Imagine a New Yorker," exclaimed another, 
 " being constant in his devotion for twenty 
 years ! " 
 
 " Impossible ! " came from a chorus of voices. 
 
 The gentlemen looked up. " What is impossi- 
 ble? " Fenton asked. " Do not all speak at 
 once." 
 
 Miss Ainsley answered, " We were saying 
 that" 
 
 " Well," interrupted Fenton, " we are all at- 
 tention. Surely such unanimity of opinion 
 among ladies, must be something that the gods 
 could not dispute." 
 
 " We were remarking " answered Mrs. Pen- 
 dleton, " after listening to Slack's love romance, 
 how impossible it would be for a New Yorker to 
 be constant in his devotion for twenty years." 
 
 " It would be impossible," Fenton rejoined, 
 then aside " to the same woman. Surely you 
 do not expect it? " he asked in a louder tone. 
 
 " Shocking ! Of course we do ! " 
 
 " There is one less constant than the New 
 Yorker," affirmed Fenton. 
 
 " And that one? " queried Miss Ainsley. 
 
 " The New Woman," he answered with a 
 laugh. 
 
 A servant entered with coffee and wine. 
 
 " Then I propose a toast to the New Woman ! "
 
 no Hester Blair 
 
 volunteered Miss Ainsley. Her declaration was 
 met with exclamations of derision from the gen- 
 tlemen. 
 
 " I will take water," declared Fenton. 
 
 " And why water, my dear Fenton? " 
 
 " Nothing can be too pure for the New 
 Woman," he rejoined with a laugh. 
 
 " Featherly raised a glass of wine in the air 
 and recited sotto voce.: 
 
 " And I, to her, deep will I drink the toast; 
 And ask of evils, which to dread the most: 
 The one, that age doth give the fire of youth; 
 The other, always new, yet ag-e forsooth 
 Adds not the charm to life that this can boast." 
 
 A chorus of applause rewarded Featherly's 
 effort, 
 
 " My dear Mi*. Featherly ! " said Miss Ains- 
 ley, " surely you're not going to deny us the 
 pleasure of meeting Mr. Dorkins; 'twould be as 
 refreshing as a trip to Norton." 
 
 Featherly laughed. Slack's appearance, ar- 
 rayed in his " best suit," w r as fresh in his mem- 
 ory. Still, he was not certain that it would be 
 agreeable to the fisherman to meet his guests; 
 nor did he wish to place Slack in an embarrass- 
 ing position; although he was satisfied that his 
 guests would treat the fisherman with the cour- 
 tesy that good breeding demanded, he was not 
 wholly reconciled to the proposition. He sought 
 to interrogate Hester with his eyes, but she was 
 conversing with Mrs. Pendleton, and apparently
 
 The Reception in 
 
 seemed unconscious of the request which Miss 
 Ainsley had made. 
 
 The suggestion being enforced by the other 
 guests, Featherly replied : 
 
 " I will invite him to join us if you desire it. 
 I will speak to him." 
 
 A shade of annoyance passed over Hester's 
 face. She said nothing, but she felt that Slack 
 would be uncomfortable and ill at ease ; and she 
 feared that the amusement which his uncouth 
 and awkward appearance would excite would be 
 noticeable to the keen-eyed fisherman; still she 
 felt that she could not object, as the request had 
 been made with seeming sincerity. Apart from 
 his personal appearance, she was satisfied that 
 the wily Slack would conduct himself not only 
 with propriety, but, with a thrill of pride, she 
 knew that his ready wit and nimble tongue would 
 disconcert anyone who measured his intellect by 
 his clumsy, rough exterior. 
 
 Since Slack had entered Featherly's employ, 
 he had been treated more like a guest, or a con- 
 fidential equal by his employer, than a servant. 
 No one realized this more fully than the fisher- 
 man. There was a friendly, though unspoken, 
 understanding between them; and each showed 
 the respect and consideration that their confi- 
 dence in each other awakened. Featherly recog- 
 nized Slack's sterling qualities of heart and 
 mind ; he knew the fisherman loved Hester as a 
 daughter ; and that she regarded him with affec-
 
 112 Hester Blair 
 
 tion. It was this mutual regard that induced 
 Slack to come and live with him, that he might 
 be near her. Apart from this, he was fond of 
 him. The quaint, blunt manners of the fisher- 
 man had appealed to his sense of humor; and a 
 closer acquaintance awakened respect, that had 
 grown into sincere regard. 
 
 The conversation and laughter ceased as 
 Featherly and Slack entered the room. Feath- 
 erly introduced Slack to each of the company 
 with the same formality he would have employed 
 with any social equal. 
 
 " Mr. Fenton needs no introduction," Feath- 
 erly said as he concluded, " you have met be- 
 fore." 
 
 " Yaas," answered Slack turning to Fenton, 
 " 'pears ter me we hev, hevn't we? " 
 
 Fenton nodded his head, and a faint smile 
 played about his mouth as he recalled their 
 meeting on the wharf. 
 
 Slack was dressed in the same suit of clothes 
 that he had brought from Norton. The coat was 
 many sizes too large, the trousers distinctly 
 baggy, and, contrary to country custom, much 
 too long. The legs of the trousers were narrow 
 at the bottom and rested on his generous sized 
 boots, a progression of wrinkles and loose cloth 
 from his waist down. His dark colored coat 
 and trousers were relieved by a cravat and waist- 
 coat of daring colors. His hair betrayed fruit-
 
 The Reception 113 
 
 less efforts at combing, but it showed there had 
 been an effort. 
 
 The music from a string band in the adjoining 
 room came through the door. 
 
 " Ladies, can you resist that waltz? " asked 
 Fenton. 
 
 " It is divine," answered Miss Ainsley. 
 
 Fenton offered her his arm, and followed by 
 the others, they were soon whirling past the open' 
 door to the music of a Strauss waltz. 
 
 Slack seated himself beside Hester. They were 
 alone. 
 
 " Slacky, dear," she said, " tell me truly, how 
 do you like it? " 
 
 He looked into her eyes. She was very dear to 
 him and he spoke softly : 
 
 " Hessie, I'd give more fur one day at home 
 with you an' Ethy an' Millie, 'n er whole lifetime 
 er this." 
 
 She patted one of his huge hands with her own. 
 " I know you would, Slacky dear," she answered, 
 " it won't be long before summer, and, O Slack ! " 
 she continued in a doleful tone, " won't Millie 
 fret her life away before then? " 
 
 " Ha, ha, ha," laughed Slack ; then with mock 
 seriousness : " derned ef I ain't glad of it ! She's 
 made me fret f er twenty years ! " Further con- 
 versation was interrupted by Miss Ainsley. 
 
 " You don't dance, Mr. Dorkins? " 
 
 Hester smiled. Slack replied:
 
 114 Hester Blair 
 
 " O yes, not them ther fancy dances ; but ef 
 yer hev a regular square dance, er Chorus Jig, I 
 don't inin' ef I try it." 
 
 " The Chorus Jig ! " exclaimed Miss Ainsley, 
 " what a pretty name for a dance." 
 
 " O yes," answered Slack, " and it's a pretty 
 dance I ken tell yer." 
 
 " Will you describe how they dance it, Mr. 
 Dorkins? " 
 
 The question was asked in good faith and 
 Slack answered with equal sincerity. 
 
 " Why certainly, I don't min' showin' yer. It 
 goes like this." 
 
 Slack stood up and began the old country 
 dance, calling off the changes in a loud tone. 
 Commencing with " head couple down the cen- 
 ter," with a light foot, his head in the air, hum- 
 ming the tune of the dance meanwhile, he led an 
 imaginary partner down the center, tripping off 
 the steps of the dance over the carpet half way 
 across the room and back again. The second 
 change he called ; and through the set he crossed 
 and recrossed, balanced and swung to the next, 
 his feet barely touching the floor. He turned 
 and pivoted with reckless abandon; and ended 
 with a flourish of feet, arms and hands, that 
 would wring the heart of a country prize dancer 
 with envy. 
 
 The music had ceased before Slack began 
 dancing. The guests were grouped at the door,
 
 The Reception 115 
 
 convulsed with laughter, but watching the move- 
 ments of the agile Slack. 
 
 They crowded around him, they applauded 
 him, they thanked him. 
 
 " But you must teach us the dance ! " ex- 
 claimed one of the ladies. 
 
 " Nothin'd give me greater pleasure," an- 
 swered Slack with a courtesy. 
 
 The music began again. Hester and Feath- 
 erly joined the dance ; Fenton and one of the gen- 
 tlemen who was not dancing lingered behind in 
 earnest conversation. 
 
 " Gad ! " exclaimed Fenton, looking round the 
 deserted room to assure himself that they were 
 alone, " she's a beautiful woman. This business 
 of teaching music is all a blind; but upon my 
 honor, she carries it off with a high hand ! She's 
 as chilly as an iceberg, and as unapproachable as 
 the favorite in the Sultan's harem." 
 
 " Do you doubt " said his companion. 
 
 " My dear fellow, I doubt nothing. I have 
 learned the lesson that in this life, if you wish to 
 be comfortable, never doubt; take everything 
 for granted. Enough for me that she's ador- 
 able, and that I'm hopelessly in love with her; 
 but she treats me with maddening indifference." 
 
 " But," rejoined the other, " would it be wise 
 to give Featherly offence? He'll make a devil 
 of a row." 
 
 " Featherly'll not trouble anyone much longer.
 
 1 1 6 Hester Blair 
 
 He has a heart trouble that may terminate 
 fatally at any moment. I know it from his family 
 physician. This excitement, for him, is tempt- 
 ing fate." 
 
 " Is Miss Blair aware of this? " 
 
 " No, he hides it from her. I will soon have 
 the field to myself ; but I am impatient." 
 
 Mrs. Pendleton entered the room and ap- 
 proached Fenton. She tapped him lightly on the 
 arm with her fan. 
 
 " Come," she said, looking sharply at him, 
 " tell me what kind of a conspiracy you are con- 
 cocting now? " 
 
 " We were just discussing the political situa- 
 tion," Fenton answered. " You see, we are in 
 the race for honors." 
 
 " Bah ! " she exclaimed, " I never knew you to 
 devote much time to politics when in the presence 
 of ladies. Have you selected the winner? " 
 
 " I think so," he answered with a laugh. 
 
 " As I once heard you say of a certain race : 
 1 you have the pole and will be in at the finish ! ' " 
 
 Fenton's companion, not understanding the 
 drift of their remarks, joined the dancers. Slack 
 had entered the room and seated himself near 
 the piano, which was between him and Fenton. 
 
 " Exactly, my dear Laura," Fenton replied to 
 her last remark, " you honor me even in the ex- 
 ercise of your memory." 
 
 " Perhaps not in the exercise of my judgment," 
 she replied, " for in this race you'll lose."
 
 The Reception 117 
 
 He laughed scoffingly. " You are a worthy 
 champion," he said, " but wait the finish is not 
 
 yet" 
 
 " Then it is still war? " 
 
 " You force the fighting," he replied, " remem- 
 ber I'm no novice." 
 
 " True, you've seen service ; you're entitled 
 to be termed a Regular." 
 
 " You do me a great honor ; but I do not de- 
 preciate my foe. You are " 
 
 " A volunteer ! " she interrupted. " In our 
 country the standard is high. I'll endeavor not 
 to lower it." 
 
 " All is fair in war and love ! " 
 
 " In this case, we will recognize only the 
 former." 
 
 " And you will not consider a truce? " 
 
 " Never ! until you are completely routed ! " 
 
 " So be it. Will you permit me? " He offered 
 her his arm and they joined the dancers. 
 
 The perplexed gaze of the fisherman followed 
 them to the door. He remained silent for a full 
 minute deep in thought. Unconsciously he struck 
 his forehead with the knuckles of his hand, then 
 spoke musingly: 
 
 " This be the second time I've heered them two 
 a talkin' er war an' races. What's it all about? 
 That's what sticks me ! The dern skunk Fenton's 
 up ter some game, an' th' widder's a tryin' to 
 balk 'im; an' ther's a race er some kind atween 
 'em. Thet's as plain as th' wart on Captain Ed-
 
 1 1 8 Hester Blair 
 
 wards's nose. But what is it? Las' summer th' 
 were w^arin' uv it, an' now they're at it agin." 
 
 His eyes followed the dancers for a moment. 
 His face betrayed that he could arrive at no satis- 
 factory conclusion. " Well, Slacky," he con- 
 tinued, " yer'll hev ter allow thet up ter th' pres- 
 ent time, as fer as Fenton an' th' widder's con- 
 sarned, yer stumped. Yep, thet's what yer be; 
 but when it comes ter bein' in at th' finish, ef it's 
 anything consarning Hessie " 
 
 He paused. He had struck the keynote of his 
 conjectures. He did not care to admit it even to 
 himself, but from the first, he believed that Hes- 
 ter was in some way identified with Mrs. Pendle- 
 ton's interest in the subject under discussion. 
 When Slack spoke Hester's name an ugly light 
 shone in his eyes, and he involuntarily clinched 
 his hands. Then his thoughts turned to Mrs. 
 Pendleton and he smiled. He held her in high 
 regard. His eyes twinkled, and an amused ex- 
 pression played around the corners of his mouth. 
 
 " By Gum ! Yer up agin it my dear Mr. Fen- 
 ton, ef yer buck up again th' widder. She's an 
 ole war-horse, an' a good one yet; an' ef it's a 
 question of a race atween yer, why, dern me ! I'll 
 bet my las' dollar, yes, and my schooner ter boot, 
 on th' widder ! " and he followed the subject of 
 his last remark with a tender glance as she glided 
 by the door. 
 
 The music ceased. Miss Ainsley approached 
 Slack.
 
 The Reception 119 
 
 " We have arranged for a cotillion next, Mr. 
 Dorkins. Will you dance? " 
 
 " Yes," he replied, " ef yer will honor 
 me?" 
 
 " With pleasure," she answered. 
 
 She laid the tips of her fingers on Slack's arm 
 and they led the way to the ball-room. 
 
 The music commenced, and, with a courtly 
 bow, the fisherman began the dance. The guests 
 had waited for this moment expectantly. They 
 were prepared to be amused; and under their 
 well-bred assumption of indifference, they studi- 
 ously refrained from bestowing upon the fisher- 
 man more notice than courtesy demanded. They 
 would not bestow upon him more than ordinary 
 notice, so they laboriously and clumsily set about 
 the task of not watching him; while the eyes of 
 every dancer took in the movements of the seem- 
 ingly unconscious Slack. But they overdid it: 
 and besides, they measured their wits with one 
 far more crafty and discerning than themselves. 
 He apparently gave his undivided attention to 
 his partner and the intricacies of the figures that 
 he was dancing; but there was a faint a very 
 faint suspicion of a smile hovering around the 
 corners of his mouth, and anyone in Norton could 
 have told that, " Slacky was havin' some fun 
 with 'em." But they didn't know it, nor was it 
 his intention that they should. 
 
 He danced the figures with a sturdy grace and 
 a light foot; and they forgot their role of patro-
 
 1 20 Hester Blair 
 
 nizing unconcern and watched him with ill-con- 
 cealed delight. 
 
 In studying this man of many parts, a doubt 
 often obtruded itself as to his genuineness; and 
 one who watched him closely, was almost forced 
 to believe that his rough exterior, and homely 
 ways, were, in a degree, assumed. He was a man 
 of surprises: and those who had known him the 
 longest, were forced to admit that he was beyond 
 fathoming. He was content to have himself 
 judged by appearance. Beyond that but we'll 
 know him better as we proceed. 
 
 They finished the dance and entered the draw- 
 ing room. Hester was seated on a divan talking 
 to Mrs. Pendleton. A servant entered with a 
 salver on which was a card. " For Miss Blair," 
 he said. 
 
 Hester took the card and glanced at it. Her 
 face became livid, but she manifested no other 
 sign of emotion. Featherly approached. 
 
 " Will you dance this set, Hester? " he asked. 
 
 " No, thanks," she calmly replied. " Mrs. Pen- 
 dleton, will you kindly take my place? " 
 
 " With pleasure, dear," Mrs. Pendleton replied, 
 " Featherly and I are old partners. Dear me ! 
 It's so many years since we began dancing to- 
 gether, that I shudder to think of it. Do you 
 know, Hester, that at one time I really believed 
 Ealph took an interest in me? But " with a 
 sad smile " that was before I met poor, dear
 
 The Reception 121 
 
 Pendleton." And she rattled on until Featherly 
 led her away. 
 
 Hester smiled wearily and turned to the serv- 
 ant. 
 
 " Is the gentleman waiting? " 
 " Yes, miss, in the south hall." 
 " Show him in by the side entrance." 
 The servant withdrew. Hester, who was 
 clutching the card in her trembling fingers, read 
 the name John Gary.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 " MY PROMISE ! JUST HEAVEN, POINT ME THE 
 WAY ! " 
 
 A woman's word. How frail a thing! Yet He 
 Who doth record each act and deed and thought, 
 Has with His hand on golden tablet wrought 
 These words, to live through all eternity: 
 If thou, thy promise give, thy promise keep; 
 For as in life ye sow, so shall ye reap. 
 I here record a vow a woman's word. 
 'Tis sacred in the annals of the Lord. 
 
 HESTER stood beside a small table that sup- 
 ported a bronze figure, resting her left 
 hand lightly upon it. Her features were 
 pale, and a look of apprehension shone in her 
 eyes, for she felt that Gary's visit boded no good. 
 That some powerful motive prompted his un- 
 timely visit, she had no doubt. Did it concern 
 herself, or worse had some misfortune befallen 
 her sister? No, she argued, it must be something 
 of a personal nature. Doubt gave place to fear. 
 What if John suspected the truth? What if her 
 marriage were already known at Norton. Her 
 thoughts then reverted to the man she was wait- 
 ing to see. She had perfect confidence in his 
 loyalty and discretion. Time had proved his 
 worth; and she felt that whatever the impulse 
 
 122
 
 "My Promise! " 123 
 
 that had prompted his unseemly visit, it was 
 founded on a pure and disinterested regard for 
 her welfare. 
 
 John entered the side door and stood irreso- 
 lute, waiting for her to speak. There was some- 
 thing in his bearing that was foreign to him : 
 a hesitancy in his manner ; a faltering of purpose, 
 that set ill upon him. His naturally frank, fear- 
 less eyes, after a glance of recognition, sought 
 the floor. His whole demeanor proclaimed that 
 he was there on an unwilling and unpleasant mis- 
 sion; and the expression of mouth and chin af- 
 firmed his determination to fulfill it. 
 
 Hester knew him well. She read every chang- 
 ing expression that swept over his face. Fear 
 almost suffocated her, and her heart beat with 
 dread expectancy. 
 
 " John," she said falteringly, " what has hap- 
 pened? Is Ethel " 
 
 " No," he answered, divining her thoughts, 
 " she is well." 
 
 " Thank God ! " Hester exclaimed. She ex- 
 tended her hand to him. " Forgive my selfish 
 fears, but your visit at this late hour startled 
 me. I feel that some powerful motive must have 
 prompted you to seek me here. Don't keep me 
 in suspense. What is it? Are you " 
 
 " It is not of myself I came to speak ; it is of 
 you, Hester." 
 
 " Of me? " 
 
 " Yes, of you," he answered. There was a sor-
 
 1 24 Hester Blair 
 
 rowing inflection in his voice that redoubled her 
 fears. 
 
 " Hester, you have faith in me? " he asked. 
 
 " Need you ask? " 
 
 " No," he said, " I believe you have. It is not 
 easy to say what I came here to tell you, but " 
 
 " Well ? " she asked, with a determined effort 
 to be calm. 
 
 " I have just come from Norton. My stay here 
 is limited only to a few hours. I return to-night, 
 and must leave on the midnight train. I could 
 not go until I had seen you until I had spoken 
 to you." 
 
 Hester remained silent. The blood surged to 
 her neck and cheek, and receding, left her face 
 even paler than before. 
 
 " Since you came to New York," he continued 
 with an effort, " there has been gossip in the vil- 
 lage. It was not long before your name and that 
 of Mr. Featherly were coupled unpleasantly." 
 
 "Unpleasantly!" she repeated, "but how?" 
 
 " I cannot bring myself to think of it," he said 
 with rising anger, " much less to speak of it, but 
 they say " 
 
 " They say " she echoed. 
 
 " They question your manner of living " 
 
 " My manner of living " 
 
 " But it is even worse than that " 
 
 "Worse?" 
 
 " Yes," he replied, " but I cannot " 
 
 " But you must," she interrupted, " it is my
 
 "My Promise! " 125 
 
 right. You have told me too much or too little. 
 Speak, John." 
 
 The pride of her race came to her relief and 
 dominated her. She stood with flashing eyes, her 
 form erect, and her head thrown back. With the 
 consciousness of her own purity, she could at 
 that moment have faced the whole world. She 
 did not stop to consider that, by her own act, she 
 had placed herself in a false position: a posi- 
 tion which had invited the very charge she was 
 now forced to meet. 
 
 " Remember, Hester," said Gary, " never in 
 my life have I doubted you for an instant." 
 
 " Doubted me ! doubted me ! Why should you 
 doubt me? " she demanded, " by what right 
 should you doubt me? " There was a ring of 
 passion in her voice. 
 
 " Can you ask that of me, Hester? " he said, a 
 shade of reproach in his tone, " has not a life- 
 long love " 
 
 " Stop ! " there was passion in her voice, " you 
 have no right to speak to me of love." 
 
 " I have the right of a friendship which began 
 when we were children, the right of a devotion 
 that has never wavered ; a right given me by your 
 father, when, on his death bed, with his hand 
 in mine, he entrusted you and Ethel to my care. 
 I have the right of a man's love that he knows 
 but once: a love that he has offered you, and 
 shall continue to offer you, that he offers you 
 now "
 
 126 Hester Blair 
 
 " How do you dare ! " she said angrily. 
 
 " Dare, Hester, dare? That word, and from 
 you? " 
 
 " O, no, no, my God ! John, I forgot myself for 
 the moment. I can make it all clear to you with 
 just a word. No, no," she continued in a con- 
 fused manner, " I quite forgot I " 
 
 " You can make what clear? " he asked. 
 
 " It is nothing ! " she said with an effort to re- 
 gain her composure, " I am unnerved. The un- 
 expectedness of your coming ; the fear that Ethel 
 was ill; the horrible news from the village all 
 this overcame me! You will forgive me, John? 
 Ah! but need I ask? Do I not know your good 
 heart, as I do the dear old home? But you have 
 not told me all. You are keeping something 
 back ! You have the right of our friendship, the 
 right of my trust in you to speak plainly. What 
 is it, John? " 
 
 " I cannot ! " he faultered. 
 
 " You must." There was a fierce intensity in 
 her tone which rang through the room. 
 
 " It is " 
 
 " Yes " 
 
 " It is that you do not Hester, in Heaven's 
 name do not force me to say it ! I " 
 
 " If you have the love for me that you profess, 
 prove it ! Speak ! " 
 
 A struggle was going on within him. He knew 
 that the words he was about to utter would strike 
 her to the heart. He felt that it was easier to
 
 " My Promise ! " 1 27 
 
 imprint a blow upon her face, than to say that 
 which would fill her with shame and mortifica- 
 tion. He knew her high sense of honor ; her love 
 for her family name; the zealous care with which 
 she guarded her own and her sister's reputation ; 
 and his courage failed as he looked at her beauti- 
 ful face. 
 
 Her eyes sought his in a startled gaze of in- 
 quiry. 
 
 " It is," he said after a pause, " that you do 
 not make your living honestly that that you 
 are the mistress of Mr. Featherly." 
 
 Hester uttered a piercing scream and covered 
 her face with her hands. Her body swayed as a 
 torrent of emotion swept over her, and tearless 
 sobs shook her frame. She appeared about to 
 fall, and John stepped quickly to her side. His 
 movement seemed to arrest the paroxysm of feel- 
 ing and she uncovered her face, on which was 
 stamped the suffering she was undergoing. She 
 made a determined effort to control herself and 
 spoke : 
 
 " The shame ! The humiliation ! You do not 
 believe it, John?" 
 
 " Can you ask me, Hester? " he asked sadly. 
 " You know my faith in you." 
 
 " Yes," she answered, " thank God I do." A 
 determined light shone in her eyes. " John," she 
 said abruptly, " stay here until I call Mr. Feath- 
 erly." 
 
 They were standing before an alcove made by
 
 128 Hester Blair 
 
 a large bow window, that protruded some feet 
 from the wall of the building and looked out on 
 an open area. Hester drew one of the silken 
 draperies and motioned John to a seat. 
 
 " You will be unobserved here," she said. " I 
 will return in a few moments." 
 
 John sat in the seat designated. The sound of 
 the music and laughter from the adjoining room 
 jarred upon him. He smiled bitterly. He men- 
 tally contrasted the difference in the surround- 
 ings and the atmosphere of luxury which per- 
 vaded the room, with the refined quiet and 
 homely comfort of their Norton home. His at- 
 tention was arrested by some one entering. He 
 recognized Fenton's voice. 
 
 " I am getting nervous ! " Fenton was saying 
 in a tone of irritation. " I have played a strong 
 card, and I don't want any slip to spoil the game. 
 To-day I sent a letter to Featherly's father, dis- 
 closing the son's relations w r ith Hester. He is 
 coming here to-night. Mark me! I know the 
 father; he is the soul of honor. To-night will 
 end this affair. The old man will make a scene; 
 Hester will have to go; and I shall have a clear 
 field." 
 
 Mrs. Pendleton had entered quietly, and, after 
 casting a hurried glance at Fenton and his com- 
 panion, and assuring herself that she was unob- 
 served, stepped behind a Japanese screen that 
 stood at the right of the door leading to the im- 
 promptu ball-room.
 
 " My Promise ! " 1 29 
 
 " That's risky," answered Fenton's companion, 
 " think you're safe in the matter? " 
 
 " Yes, I bound the old man to secrecy." 
 
 " And what do you propose to do? " 
 
 "Do?" laughed Fenton. "The rest is easy. 
 Pursue her to the end, until I bring her to my 
 way of thinking. O, it's a game I'm up in. 
 Hark! Is there anyone here?" 
 
 John had sprung to his feet. He dashed the 
 curtains aside, and strode into the center of the 
 room. His eyes blazed, and he made a most 
 magnificent though formidable picture. With 
 clenched fists he approached Fenton. 
 
 " Cur ! " he cried, " you will settle with me 
 first," 
 
 " The country lover ! " Fenton sneeringly an- 
 swered. 
 
 John sprang toward him, but before he 
 could strike, Mrs. Pendleton stood between 
 them. 
 
 " Stop ! We will have no scandal here ! My 
 dear Fenton, you now have two adversaries to 
 deal with. But we must conduct our warfare 
 elsewhere. Mr. Gary," she said, turning to John, 
 " I beg of you for Hester's sake to desist. Hush ! 
 not a word ! They are coming. 
 
 John withdrew to his former seat. Featherly 
 entered the room alone. The others remained 
 behind chatting and laughing. 
 
 As Featherly came through the door he reeled 
 slightly and, when well within the room, stag-
 
 130 Hester Blair 
 
 gered and seemed about to fall, but steadied him- 
 self by grasping the piano. 
 
 " Laura," he said to Mrs. Pendleton, " where 
 is Hester?" He spoke with an effort: his right 
 hand pressed over his heart. 
 
 " She is " began Mrs. Pendleton. 
 
 " No matter ! " he cried. His voice told the suf- 
 fering he was undergoing. " Laura, I can trust 
 you! Go to her! Feign illness, anything; but 
 keep her out of the room until I recover." 
 
 " Can I be of any assistance to you, old man? " 
 Fenton asked. 
 
 " No," Featherly answered with an effort. " A 
 touch of the old trouble, that's all. It'll soon 
 pass." The muscles of his face twitched with 
 pain. " Ah ! " he muttered, " it's a nuisance ! " 
 
 A servant entered and announced " Mr. Fea- 
 therly." 
 
 The announcement was followed by the en- 
 trance of an elderly man of about sixty-five years. 
 He saw his son and walked quickly to him. 
 
 " Are you ill, Ralph? " he asked. 
 
 " Tut, tut, father ; a touch of the old trouble. 
 It will soon pass." 
 
 " Shall I send for Dr. Raddy? " the elder man 
 inquired in a tone of concern. 
 
 Featherly made a determined effort to control 
 himself. With a poor attempt at a smile, and 
 a jaunty air, he asked, 
 
 " Do you love me father? " 
 
 " Yes, my son, but "
 
 "My Promise !" 131 
 
 "Then send not for Dr. Raddy. 'Tis but a 
 flutter of the heart, and a little flutter at that. 
 I must confess, governor, that wine's the father 
 of the complaint. 'Twill pass in a moment." He 
 shuddered convulsively, then, with an attempt 
 at grandiloquence, continued : " The doctor, 
 good soul, would add physic, and, between the 
 two, eh, faith ! You'd have no son. 'Tis passing, 
 now coming, now going, ebbing and flowing, 
 like the favors of love, whose home it is, alas ! oft 
 untidily kept ! " 
 
 His body swayed from side to side, his hand 
 clutched at his heart, and his face was distorted 
 with pain. 
 
 " And you will not have the doctor, Ralph? " 
 
 " I have always obeyed you, father? " 
 
 " Yes, my son." 
 
 " And for one breach I would be forgiven, me- 
 thinks?" 
 
 " Indeed yes, Ralph, but I fear " the old 
 
 man's tone was husky. His son replied, 
 
 " Fear not. Fear is the harbinger of misfor- 
 tune, courage its master."' He continued in an 
 almost inaudible tone, " but it's a stubborn visi- 
 tor, and an uncivil one. It will not yield with 
 good grace. Ah ! " he staggered and nearly fell. 
 His father placed his arm around him and they 
 leaned against the piano. 
 
 Featherly's eyes took on a glassy look. His 
 face was an ashen gray color; his strength 
 seemed to have forsaken him ; and his hands fell
 
 132 Hester Blair 
 
 lifeless to his side. With an effort, and with a 
 pause between each word, he spoke: 
 
 " Hester," he said faintly, " father I have 
 a confession to make before too late. 
 
 Hester is my " a gurgling cry was all he 
 
 was able to utter. He fell into his father's arms 
 dead. 
 
 A moment they stood thus. The stillness that 
 settled over the room was oppressive; the 
 labored breathing of the old man being the only 
 audible sound. Fenton was the first to recover 
 his presence of mind. He stepped forward 
 lightly, and, lifting the dead body, laid it on the 
 divan. He placed his hand over the young man's 
 heart, and turning to the guests, just as Hester 
 and Mrs. Pendleton appeared in the doorway, 
 said, " He is dead." 
 
 The old man leaned against the piano with 
 bowed head. He seemed oblivious of his sur- 
 roundings, until a piercing shriek aroused him. 
 He turned and confronted Hester. 
 
 A look of horror overspread her features. She 
 stood on the threshold of the door as if turned 
 to stone. In a blank stare her eyes rested on the 
 face of her dead husband. 
 
 When Mr. Featherly heard Hester cry out, he 
 had taken a step backward, and stood by the 
 body of his son. He looked at her, but she did 
 not see him. She had heard Fenton's declaration 
 that her husband was dead; saw his white, dis- 
 torted, upturned face, and the truth forced itself
 
 "My Promise! " 133 
 
 upon her. A life agony was condensed in that 
 one moment. The cry she uttered rang through 
 the house, and chilled the blood of her listen- 
 ers. 
 
 As if in mockery of her grief, the band struck 
 up a lively waltz, until it was stilled by one of 
 the guests. 
 
 " Dead ! " Hester whispered the word as she 
 stepped into the room. Her lips did not move 
 and the word came in a hollow sound. " Dead ! " 
 she continued, " no, no, no ! " 
 
 Her eyes still fixed on the white face, she 
 walked, or glided into the middle of the room, 
 as if to fall on the body of her husband. 
 
 The old man stepped in front of her, and Hes- 
 ter raised her eyes slowly to his face. 
 
 " Stop ! " he said, raising his hand and point- 
 ing to the door, "in the presence of my dead 
 son " 
 
 The words conveyed but little meaning to her. 
 
 " Dead ! " she whispered in an unnatural voice. 
 " Did you say he was dead? And you would pre- 
 vent me me " 
 
 " Go, leave me alone with my grief." He 
 raised his hand and again pointed to the door, 
 " you have no further right here. Go ! " 
 
 A wild, mirthless laugh, tinged with bitterness 
 and mocking derision, was her answer. It was 
 unnatural mirth; it meant nothing, nor did it 
 sound human; and she was unconscious of any 
 effort that produced it.
 
 134 Hester Blair 
 
 
 
 The words at last seemed to force themselves 
 on her understanding. 
 
 " I," she said, touching her breast with the in- 
 dex finger of her right hand, " no further right 
 here? By the dead body of my " 
 
 Her face assumed the same look that it wore 
 when she had heard Fenton proclaim her hus- 
 band dead. She spoke again. " I no further 
 right here? My God ! " there was a fierce 
 intensity. " I will see him ! " She was about to 
 advance w r hen Mr. Featherly held out his hand to 
 restrain her. 
 
 " Go," he said sadly, " I beseech you." 
 
 " No ! " her passionless tone rang from room 
 to room. " I have a right here. No, I say again 
 no ! I remain ! " She raised her hand slowly 
 and pointed above. Her words came with painful 
 distinctness as she continued : " I am his " 
 
 She paused as if struck speechless. She stood 
 thus with her hand in the air for a full minute; 
 then in a voice that had lost every vestige of 
 naturalness that was half a whisper, half a 
 wail of agony, she faltered : " My promise. Just 
 Heaven, point me the way ! " 
 
 Her eyes still riveted on her husband's body, 
 she turned slowly and dragged herself toward 
 the door. She seemed unconscious of what she 
 w r as doing. The only purpose that fixed itself in 
 her mind, was that the white, upturned face 
 should be the last object that her eyes would 
 rest upon. She realized that she must go; that
 
 "My Promise!" 135 
 
 she was driven out, as though she were something 
 unclean ; and by the father of the man she loved. 
 In life he had been hers; in death he was lost 
 to her doubly so. Hers was a grief that 
 dammed up the fountain head of tears, and none 
 came to relieve the strain. She was alone in 
 every sense and meaning of the word. 
 
 Yet no. Every syllable she had uttered, every 
 look, every gesture of pain, of agony, of humilia- 
 tion, has struck, like a knife thrust, into the 
 heart of John Cary. He stood apart, receiving 
 each successive blow, his heart wrung with the 
 knowledge that he could not, by word or act, save 
 or assist her. He realized Hester's great love 
 for the man who lay dead before them; but no 
 shadow of resentment crossed his mind. His 
 heart was filled with but one emotion pity for 
 the woman he loved. A feeling of utter help- 
 lessness took possession of him as he saw the 
 greatness of her devotion, and the depth of her 
 sorrow. Yet he could do nothing but suffer with 
 her. 
 
 As Hester neared the door, John awoke to the 
 heartlessness of the father, and a feeling of anger 
 sent the blood flying to his face. 
 
 He walked quickly toward her, then turned 
 and looked with blazing eyes at Mr. Featherly, 
 who was bending over the body of his son. John 
 did not speak but turned again toward Hester. 
 Her hands were thrown into the air, and she fell 
 over the threshold in a swoon.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 THE DAY FOLLOWING FEATHERLY^S DEATH 
 
 The wind is sighing, for hope is dying; 
 
 The Heavens are threatening, dark and drear. 
 'Mid swirl and scurry, the snowflakes hurry, 
 With ghostly chatter and noisome jeer. 
 And night, descending, its mantle is lending 
 
 Of shuddering heartache and fear. 
 
 THE morning following the death of Ralph 
 Featherly, Hester was alone in her apart- 
 ments. The servant had gone out on some 
 matter connected with her duties; and the quiet 
 within was broken only by the ticking of the 
 clock on the mantel. The day was dark and 
 gloomy; a light snow had fallen during the 
 night, and the cold intensified as the day grew 
 old. A blustering wind sent the light crystals, 
 that were half snow and half sleet, scurrying 
 along the pavements, and into the faces of the 
 few who were on the street. The wind whistled 
 ominously, and the threatening clouds chased 
 each other across a leaden sky. Intermittently, 
 black clouds rolled before the sun, the wind in- 
 creased, and the fine snow picked up from one 
 side of the street by the erratic wind, would be 
 deposited with a prolonged, whistling sigh under 
 the cold protection of the opposite curbstone. 
 It was a day for tears, for heartaches, for evil 
 
 136
 
 Day Following Featherly's Death 137 
 
 forebodings ; when the sunshine leaves the world 
 to its own melancholy bent. 
 
 Hester stood before the window and looked 
 out upon the street. Her forehead was pressed 
 against the glass, and she stared fixedly before 
 her. She saw nothing. She was unconscious of 
 the cold without; and she felt only the terrible 
 weight of despair that lay upon her heart, crush- 
 ing out hope, and leaving only a feeling of utter 
 loneliness. Her mind traversed in detail her life 
 of the past few months. She lived again the long 
 summer days at Norton; she went through her 
 marriage ceremony; she felt the mysterious 
 gloom of the darkened church ; her husband's de- 
 parture for New York, and the days of anxious 
 waiting that followed. She reviewed the past 
 few months of her happy married life, marred 
 only by the fear of discovery. Then, with a shud- 
 der, she lived again through the last night. The 
 music of the dance rang in her ears; she heard 
 Fenton's voice as he pronounced her husband 
 dead ; she saw his white upturned face as he lay 
 on the divan. The pitiless tones of the elder 
 Featherly haunted her memory as he bade her 
 go go without so much as a last look at her 
 dead husband, out into the world, with the 
 stamp of dishonor on her name. A soft moan es- 
 caped her, and she shuddered convulsively. She 
 did not see her servant, who had entered noise- 
 lessly; and her name was spoken twice before 
 she heeded it.
 
 138 Hester Blair 
 
 " Did Miss Blair wish anything? " 
 
 " No," came the reply in an almost inaudible 
 voice. 
 
 " Would she not like a cup of tea? " 
 
 " No, thanks, nothing," came the response in 
 the same hopeless tone. 
 
 The maid withdrew, and Hester's eyes again 
 rested on the frowning walls opposite her win- 
 dow. 
 
 The hours went by, and the shades of evening 
 settled over the city. Once or twice she turned, 
 her hands clasped tightly together until the fin- 
 ger nails were pressed deep into the flesh, and 
 walked the length of the room, only to return 
 to her former position before the window. 
 
 A newsboy passed the house crying the latest 
 news; closed carriages drove by at a rapid pace; 
 and the lights flickered from the windows oppo- 
 site, intensifying the gloom of the night: she 
 saw or heard nothing. Her maid again entered 
 with a cup of tea. Hester drank it at the maid's 
 request; then resumed her place at the win- 
 dow. The cold glass had a soothing effect upon 
 her, for it eased the throbbing of her temples; 
 and the happenings of the past night arranged 
 themselves more clearly in her mind. 
 
 At last she was conscious of the silver tones of 
 the clock on the mantel as it struck the hour, 
 ten, eleven, twelve. She pressed her hand to her 
 head. " Midnight," She spoke softly ; her voice
 
 Day Following Featherly's Death 139 
 
 had a hollow ring. She walked to the center 
 of the room and stood motionless. 
 
 " He is there, alone, not a block away," she 
 murmured. A sudden resolve seemed to take 
 possession of her. 
 
 " Why couldn't I? " she whispered, " only one 
 or two watchers will be with the body." She 
 paused. Her eyes glowed with the fierceness of 
 a sudden resolve. 
 
 " His latch-key ! " She almost shrieked the 
 words. 
 
 With nervous, impetuous step, she stood be- 
 side the mantel. Knowing exactly where to find 
 what she sought, she grasped the key in her hand, 
 clutching it as though she expected to fight for 
 its possession. It was the latch-key to the side 
 entrance of her husband's home. Featherly had 
 been in the habit of leaving it on the mantel. He 
 wished to enter his house without inviting the 
 comment of the servants ; and had taken the pre- 
 caution to always leave this extra key in Hester's 
 apartments. 
 
 "Why shouldn't I see him?" she exclaimed 
 in a suppressed whisper. " He is mine mine. 
 I may not be discovered. If I am! Well, they 
 may force me to disclose no, no," she moaned, 
 "not that, not that!" 
 
 She threw a dark cloak over her shoulders and 
 stood irresolute in the middle of the room. She 
 was determined to see the body of her husband ;
 
 140 Hester Blair 
 
 yet she hesitated. Fear seemed to take posses- 
 sion of her. She trembled; then, as the clock 
 chimed the quarter hour, she turned to the door. 
 Like a shadow she crept through the hall and 
 out to the street. The keen wind revived her; 
 and with a firm step she hurried on. A police- 
 man paused and looked sharply at her. She 
 turned her head that he might not see her face, 
 and, wrapping her cloak more closely about her, 
 kept on her way. 
 
 When she neared the door of her husband's 
 home, fear again almost overcame her. What 
 if she were recognized before she could gain an 
 entrance? What if there were others than serv- 
 ants in the room where her husband's body lay? 
 She trembled as she mounted the stoop; and her 
 heart beat with the dread that took possession 
 of her, until she felt that she should suffocate. 
 
 With trembling fingers she inserted the key 
 in the lock. The sound filled her with terror. 
 The key turned easily, the heavy door swung 
 open, and she passed into the inner hall in a 
 turmoil of fear. A dim light was burning. 
 Silently she crept to the drawing-room, but 
 heavy draperies covered the entrance. As she 
 cautiously peered into the room she could see the 
 outline of the shroud that enveloped the body of 
 her husband ; beside the bier sat the butler. Her 
 heart beat tumultuously, and fear gave place to 
 joyous satisfaction. No one else was to be seen, 
 yet she could hear suppressed tones coming from
 
 " The Butler recognized her at a glance."
 
 Day Following Featherly's Death 141 
 
 the adjoining dining-room. She knew the butler 
 well, and her courage returned. If he did not cry 
 out and give the alarm when she entered, she was 
 safe. 
 
 With nervous dread she parted the curtains 
 and stepped into the room. So deft were her 
 movements, so silently did she effect her en- 
 trance, that it was some moments after she had 
 entered the drawing-room before the butler was 
 aware of her presence. She watched him closely, 
 and, as he turned his face toward her, she lifted 
 her hand and placed a warning finger on her 
 lips to command silence. 
 
 The butler, recognizing her at a glance and 
 observing the cautionary signal, remained silent. 
 
 Hester glided across the room, and, leaning 
 over the body of her husband, cast a hurried 
 glance in the direction whence the sound of 
 voices came. 
 
 She kissed his eyes, his forehead, again and 
 again. She felt the cold touch of his lifeless lips 
 on her own, and tears, the first that had come 
 to relieve the awful strain, crept down her 
 cheeks. Long and intently she gazed on the face 
 that, even in death, wore its habitual expression 
 of good nature. She was aroused by a gentle 
 touch on her arm, and, turning, saw the butler 
 pointing in the direction of the door. She whis- 
 pered: " James, I can trust you? " A nod was 
 the reply; then hurriedly kissing her husband's 
 lips, she glided from the room.
 
 142 Hester Blair 
 
 The excitement of the last few moments had 
 given her strength ; but as the door closed behind 
 her, and she descended the stoop to the sidewalk, 
 she felt that she should sink to the ground. The 
 wind had increased, and drove the sleet and snow 
 into her face. A sudden gust would arrest her 
 progress for a moment; then she would again 
 blindly stagger on. She reached the door of her 
 home. She held the pass-key in her hand. Weak- 
 ness overcame her for an instant, and she leaned 
 against the outer door. A full sense of weari- 
 ness and of loneliness came over her, and she 
 dreaded to enter the house and again face the 
 solitary stillness within. 
 
 She was not alone; neither was she friend- 
 less. Had Hester been observant she might have 
 seen a closely muffled figure dogging her foot- 
 steps. From the moment she had left her own 
 home, until she had entered Featherly's, Slack 
 had followed at a safe distance, that he might not 
 be noticed. After she had entered Featherly's, 
 he had waited in the shadow of the opposite house 
 until Hester had reappeared. He had quietly fol- 
 lowed her, and, observing her weakness as she 
 leaned against the door, he had cautiously ad- 
 vanced to render her assistance should she need 
 it. Many times during the day he had passed 
 and repassed the house, seeing always her grief- 
 stricken face at the window ; never going farther 
 than the corner of the street. It wrung his heart 
 to look at her, yet he felt, and wisely, that the
 
 Day Following Featherly's Death 143 
 
 best service he could render, was to leave her 
 alone with her sorrow. 
 
 After fruitless efforts Hester opened the door 
 and entered the house. She loosened her cloak 
 and it fell from her shoulders to the floor. Her 
 strength forsook her, and, with a moan, she sank 
 upon a couch where she lay till morning. 
 
 Before the house Slack kept up his vigil 
 throughout the night.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 SLACK'S RETURN TO NORTON 
 
 A Lie with Truth set out one day, 
 To journey along the same highway: 
 As on they went, each passer-by 
 A helping hand lent to the Lie. 
 Quoth Truth: "Eh faith! how can it be 
 They tender not their help to me?" 
 With scornful mien came quick reply 
 " Because, my friend, they love a Lie." 
 
 A WEEK after the death of Peatherly, the 
 north bound train stopped at the station 
 of Norton. Slack alighted and looked 
 sharply about him. It was early evening, and 
 while at that season of the year, he hardly ex- 
 pected it, he hoped that the public carriage would 
 be in waiting. He would have preferred to walk 
 to the Blair farm, but he wished to give Jed Dud- 
 ley, the driver of the only public conveyance to 
 the village, certain information. This, the wily 
 Slack knew full well, would be distributed 
 through the village within the hour. Slack, dur- 
 ing hi journey from New York, had mapped 
 out the course he would pursue ; and, as he step- 
 ped from the platform, it was with satisfaction 
 that he saw the loquacious Jed waiting for pas- 
 
 144
 
 Slack's Return to Norton 145 
 
 sengers. Slack did not appear to see him, how- 
 ever, and started in the direction of the village. 
 
 " Hello, there, Slacky," bellowed Jed after the 
 retreating fisherman, " Be thet you? Want a 
 ride? Won't cost yer a dern cent." 
 
 " Why, how do ! " answered Slack in a sur- 
 prised tone, " didn't spect ter see yer here. Yes," 
 he drawled, " don't mind if I do ride." 
 
 Slack shook the expectant Jed warmly by the 
 hand and took a seat beside him. There were no 
 other passengers, and Jed gloatingly settled him- 
 self to hear the news. This was exactly what 
 Slack most desired. He knew that before he had 
 finished his supper and Slack was very hungry 
 that whatever information he vouchsafed to 
 Jed, would be recounted with many little em- 
 bellishments and exaggerations to everyone in 
 the village who would listen; and this the dear 
 soul would do, if gossip was to be heard. The 
 more he imposed secrecy on the talkative driver, 
 the more certain was Slack that the very im- 
 pression which he wished to spread regarding 
 Hester, would be sent broadcast by the gossipy 
 Jed. It was one of the latter's peculiarities that 
 he never wasted time in culling news; and, as it 
 was but a short distance to the Blair homestead, 
 he came to the point at once. 
 
 " How be things in New York? " he asked. 
 
 " Famous ! " answered Slack with enthusiasm. 
 " O' course, Mr. Featherly a dyin' knocked me 
 out er a job."
 
 146 Hester Blair 
 
 " Be he dead? " inquired Jed. 
 
 " Yes, died a week ago," Slack answered. 
 
 " Gum, thet be sudden ! How be Hessie gettin' 
 'long? " 
 
 " Couldn't be a doin' better," Slack answered, 
 " moren' she ken attend ter." 
 
 " Is thet so? " 
 
 " Thet's w T hat it be. Playin' all th' time, con- 
 certs, 'n scholars n' ; " 
 
 " Gosh ! I wouldn't er believed it ! " broke in 
 Jed. 
 
 " Well yer kin," drawled Slack, " I tell her she 
 be a killin' of herself workin'! Now they've of- 
 fered her a chance to play in one er them swell 
 churches." 
 
 " I swan ! " exclaimed Jed. 
 
 There was a slight shade of disappointment 
 in the driver's tone that did not escape the ob- 
 servant Slack. This report of Hester's prosperity 
 was contrary to the accepted verdict of the vil- 
 lagers. Resentment filled Slack's heart; and it 
 would have given him keen pleasure to have 
 kicked his companion from the seat to the 
 ground. With an added, soft inflection in his 
 voice, that invited closer confidence, Slack re- 
 sumed: 
 
 " Since the fust day she got ter New York, 
 they bin a chasin' of her ter play. She's got a fine 
 place ter live in I kin tell yer; an' one o' them 
 three-cornered pianeys. It's bigger 'n this yer
 
 Slack's Return to Norton 147 
 
 hitch er yourn, bosses an' all; only the legs be 
 sounder 'n them ther' critters yer be a drivin'." 
 
 Slack could not resist this little fling at Jed's 
 spavined pair. In a conciliatory tone he con- 
 tinued : " I don't believe Hessie'll keer ter come 
 back here. I wouldn't say nothin' 'bout it, Jed ; 
 cause Hessie mighten' like ter hev anyone know 
 what she be a doin'. O'course, I don't rain' a 
 tellin' you. I know I kin trust yer." 
 
 " Wcourse yer kin," rejoined Jed with 
 warmth. O ! 'course yer kin ! " 
 
 They drove up to the stoop of the Blair farm- 
 house and Slack alighted. 
 
 " Comin' down ter th' store arter supper, 
 Slacky? " inquired Jed. 
 
 " Yes, guess I will," replied Slack as he opened 
 the door. 
 
 As Jed was about to drive away, Slack called 
 after him, " Don't ferget ! Mum's the word ! " 
 
 " Don' yer be afeered Slacky yer know me." 
 
 " Yes, dern yer," Slack uttered as he closed the 
 door, " I do know yer, an' yer'll save me th ? 
 trouble er lyin' fifty times." 
 
 Millie was expecting Slack on the night train ; 
 but she had not heard the team drive up to the 
 house. As Slack entered the room he had come 
 in by the side door she was arranging the sup- 
 per table. She held a cup in her hand, which, in 
 her excitement at seeing Slack, she dropped, and 
 the fragments spread themselves about on the
 
 148 Hester Blair 
 
 clean floor. She then did the most womanly, if 
 not the most sensible thing under the circum- 
 stances, she sat on a chair and cried. 
 
 " There, Slack Dorkins," she sobbed, " yerVe 
 made me break my best china teacup, one as 
 Hester brought from Gum'ny. I knowed as how 
 yer couldn't come home 'thout somethin' happen- 
 in'." Then with a half stifled little sob of joy at 
 seeing the fisherman at home again, she con- 
 tinued: "Be yer hungry, Slacky?" She was 
 betraying feeling and interest verging on ten- 
 derness. This would not do. Still, he must be 
 fed. Without waiting for a reply she hurried 
 on excitedly : " Ef I'd a known sooner thet yer 
 wer' a comin' home, I'd er hed somethin' outer 
 common. The roosters er all sold off, an' I 
 killed one er th' pullets. I jest hated ter, cause 
 it was 'bout ready to lay. Sit right up, Slacky, 
 I've some hot biscuit an' a cranberry pie, I know 
 yer ain't hed eny cranberry pie sense yer bin 
 in New York." 
 
 Millie approached the table, and Slack took 
 her work-begrimed hand in his own. He kissed 
 her lightly on the cheek. A maidenly blush over- 
 spread her face, then assuming her most severe 
 expression of disapproval, she blurted out : 
 
 " Ther', Slacky, don't be foolish ! " But she 
 tingled with joy from her head to her feet; and 
 the touch of the fisherman's lips on her cheek 
 sent the blood surging through her veins. " Be
 
 Slack's Return to Norton 149 
 
 yer glad ter see me? " inquired Slack as he seated 
 himself at the table. 
 
 " Yes, o'course I'm glad ter see yer ; but I 
 never spected yer'd get back 'thout gittin' in ter 
 some kind er trouble. Try some er th' chicken 
 pie, Slacky; but I ain't sure th' crust is quite 
 done, though th' fire was hot enough, goodness 
 knows ! " 
 
 Slack needed no urging. For the past few 
 days he had wrestled, unsuccessfully, with the 
 railroad sandwich; and it needed only the sight 
 of the well-supplied and scrupulously neat table, 
 to awaken a healthy appetite. Millie seated her- 
 self opposite the fisherman, and, while her eyes 
 rested with loving concern on the bulky form 
 before her, taking care, however, that she 
 should not be surprised into a betrayal of her 
 feelings she settled herself comfortably to hear 
 the news. 
 
 " Now, Slacky, tell me about Hessie." In her 
 usual impetuous manner she did not wait for 
 a reply " What a pity that Mr. Featherly died. 
 He wer 5 th' neatest man in his room I ever seed ! 
 Not a speck o' dust; an' his clothes always hung 
 up! Why, it wer' nothin' 'tall ter take keer of 
 his room. What a pity he died ! " 
 
 Slack chuckled quietly. No allusion as yet 
 to his hair. He cast a furtive glance at the mir- 
 ror and shuddered. However, a few minutes' 
 respite was something. He'd enjoy it.
 
 150 
 
 Hester Blair 
 
 " Well," he began- 
 
 He was interrupted by a knock at the door, 
 which opened almost immediately and John Gary 
 entered. 
 
 Slack held out his hand, which Gary grasped. 
 
 " Sit down an' hev some supper, John," Millie 
 urged. 
 
 " Only a cup of tea," John replied, as he seated 
 himself at the table, " had supper an hour ago." 
 
 John turned to the fisherman. " When did you 
 arrive? " he asked. 
 
 " On the night train," Slack replied. 
 
 " An' he hasn't told me a word 'bout Hessie," 
 Millie protested. 
 
 "How could I?" demanded Slack, "when 
 yer've been a stuffin' me with this chicken pie, 
 th' whole time! Not but that I wer* willin' 
 'nough; but I couldn't talk an' eat too. How- 
 som'ever," he continued looking John in the eyes, 
 " when I left New York, Hessie wer' fust rate." 
 
 A glance passed between the two men. They 
 understood each other. 
 
 " O, how I'd like ter see dear Hessie ! " Millie 
 said plaintively. " John, try one o' the muffins. 
 I made 'em from a new receipt Sally Hopkins gin 
 me. I d'know how they've turned out. I always 
 found it safest ter f oiler yer own receipt." She 
 turned to Slack. " How do Hessie look? " 
 
 " O," replied the unblushing Slack, " bout's 
 common. Don't yer think so, John? " 
 
 " Yes," replied John in an even tone.
 
 Slack's Return to Norton 151 
 
 " Dear, dear Hessie," there were tears in Mil- 
 lie's voice. She observed that John wasn't eat- 
 ing. 
 
 " John, do try a small piece o' thet cranberry 
 pie." 
 
 John protested; Millie urged; and Slack, 
 knowing that his escape from nightmare, and per- 
 haps apoplexy, was due to John's timely arrival, 
 grinned, and watched the combat between the 
 two. 
 
 Millie won the day; and John, with the best 
 grace at his command, ate the cranberry pie. Not 
 content with his too ready surrender, he smil- 
 ingly assured Millie that he was really hungry 
 for it after all. 
 
 " How be Hessie a doin' with her music? " de- 
 manded Millie. 
 
 Slack launched forth with a glowing account 
 of Hester's success, recounted many incidents of 
 her musical career, and finished with an opinion 
 expressed with convincing candor, " that he was 
 afeered thet she would overwork; still," he con- 
 tinued, " she wer' a lookin' well an' never 
 seemed ter min' th' work anyhow." 
 
 John listened with well concealed amazement 
 to the voluble fisherman. His heart beat with 
 gratitude, for he realized the fixed determination 
 of this guardian of Hester's fair name. When 
 Slack had finished eating, John rose, and, as he 
 passed him, laid his hand on the fisherman's 
 brown, hairy fist that rested on the table. Noth-
 
 152 Hester Blair 
 
 ing was said between them; and with a sigh of 
 contentment, they lighted the cigars which John 
 produced. Well as John knew Slack, he could 
 not but regard him with added and wondering ad- 
 miration. He realized that however well guarded 
 the events of the past week, that sooner or later, 
 the truth would find its way to Norton. It was 
 not the truth he feared, but the vicious comment 
 that Hester's conduct and relations with Feath- 
 erly would occasion. He felt the utmost con- 
 fidence in Slack's discretion and judgment. He 
 knew whatever the final verdict, that for the 
 present, at least, Slack would lose no time in lay- 
 ing the foundation to counteract whatever ill re- 
 ports that might have gained credence among the 
 village people. 
 
 Millie's searching glance took in every detail 
 of the fisherman's dress. He felt her cold, criti- 
 cal eyes upon him, and shifted uneasily in his 
 chair. What was amiss with him, he wondered? 
 His hand sought his cravat. It was askew. He 
 fumbled his waistcoat, and the knowledge that 
 the button had been off for the past week filled 
 him with guilty confusion. The stains on the 
 front of his best coat seemed to speak, and stood 
 out in disgusting relief. He puffed nervously 
 at his cigar, and drove dense clouds of smoke 
 into the air to hide his short-comings; for he 
 well knew that the comfort of smoking would be 
 denied him if John were not there. 
 
 Millie went about clearing the table, with one
 
 Slack's Return to Norton 153 
 
 threatening eye fixed on the offender. He racked 
 his brain for excuses, but only one worthy of 
 consideration presented itself who could be ex- 
 pected to comb their hair on a railway car? With 
 the courage of this logic he glanced timidly at 
 Millie. Her eyes were fixed upon him with chilly 
 disapproval. 
 
 " It's a lucky thing for some folks that they 
 come home." Her voice was cutting. She stood 
 beside the table and spoke with distressing clear- 
 ness, " I don't believe yer hed a sock darned 
 sense yer bin away. Jest look at thet coat es 
 were bran new when yer left hum ! John, will yer 
 look et it ! " She cast an appealing glance at 
 John, who manifested becoming interest, and, 
 as far as he could, bestowed a look of stern dis- 
 approval at the wearer of the " brand new coat." 
 
 Millie, with a sigh of resignation, picked up 
 some dishes from the table. John smiled, and 
 cast a commiserating glance at the offender, 
 whose eyes twinkled merrily. 
 
 " What a shame," she went on, " an' he paid 
 twelve dollars fer thet suit. I know Sam Prouty 
 cheated him; an' I'm glad uv et, 'longs he don' 
 know 'nough ter take proper keer ef it. Sam 
 Prouty may be a deacon, an' hev th' best pew 
 in th' church; but I know no true Christian 
 would charge such prices as he do." 
 
 Here was a subject they could agree upon, and 
 Slack nodded his head in acquiescence. 
 
 " Goin' 'long ter th' village, John? " inquired
 
 154 Hester Blair 
 
 Slack, before Millie could discover further cause 
 for criticism. 
 
 " Yes," John answered, " as far as the office." 
 
 " Well," drawled Slack in a quizzical tone, 
 " yer see, th' boys know by this time thet I've got 
 home, 'n sooner 'n hev 'em lay awake all night, I 
 thought as how I'd go down ter th' village, an' 
 enlighten 'em on some pints I s'pect they'd like 
 ter know. Er course th' ain't 'nquisitive er any- 
 thing like thet! May be it's because they hev a 
 pursonal interest in my doin's." 
 
 " Well," retorted Millie, who had listened to 
 the latter part of Slack's remarks, " I wouldn't 
 go a galavanting down ter th' store ef I was you. 
 I do believe the men folks gossip more 'n any ole 
 woman in th' village." 
 
 Slack smiled. He recognized the truth of her 
 remarks. 
 
 "I won't be late, Millie, 'n I'll shet up th' 
 house when I git back." 
 
 Millie persisted that " she couldn't fer th' life 
 ef her see th' sense in it," and her querulous voice 
 followed the two men into the starlit night.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 SALLY PITTS ASKS QUESTIONS OF SLACK 
 
 Clear is the night, the snow gleams bright, 
 The moonbeams dance far out to sea. 
 
 To a lover's sigh, night breezes die; 
 And the stars blink down in ecstasy. 
 
 SLACK and his companion walked slowly, con- 
 versing in earnest tones. A full moon 
 sailed majestically in a star-besprinkled 
 sea of blue. Not a sound broke the stillness, ex- 
 cept the footsteps of the two men, that crushed 
 the snow in a series of sharp, metallic echoes. 
 The wood smoke from the chimneys of the vil- 
 lage, ascended straight heavenward. The lights, 
 from the half-curtained windows of the cottages, 
 flickered feebly, dwarfed into insignificant glim- 
 merings by the sheen-like brilliancy without. 
 Beyond the harbor, that was partly coated with 
 thin ice, the rippled surface of the water threw 
 back a million gleams of sparkling silver, that 
 danced, gnome-like, to the resplendent moon. 
 
 As Slack and his companion reached the main 
 street, John, with a cheery, " good-night," turned 
 in the direction of his office, and Slack proceeded 
 on his way to the village store. 
 
 When opposite the church he heard his name 
 
 155
 
 156 Hester Blair 
 
 called softly; and he stopped abruptly. It was 
 a weak, piping little voice, but it had the power 
 to arrest the fisherman, and he responded with- 
 out hesitancy. 
 
 " Why, dear little Sally ! What er yer doin' 
 at th' church at this hour? " 
 
 " O, I'm so glad ter see you again, Slacky ! " 
 Sally rejoined. 
 
 She took his hand that he extended to her and 
 pressed it to her cheek. She continued : 
 
 " Come into the church with me a little while, 
 Slacky, will you? O, it's lovely when the moon 
 shines through the windows." 
 
 Slack dearly -loved the child. He knew her 
 odd ways, and her request did not in the least 
 surprise him. She was unlike other children, 
 unlike anyone he had ever known. She lived in 
 a little world of her own, peopled by fanciful 
 ideas and images, that were as real to her as were 
 those with whom she came in daily contact. 
 Her home life, which had been dreary in the ex- 
 treme, only intensified her longing for solitude. 
 Slack, holding the child's hand in his own, en- 
 tered the church, and they seated themselves 
 near the door, where the moonlight, streaming 
 through the stained-glass windows, bathed them 
 in a flood of fantastic colors. 
 
 "Isn't this beautiful?" the child asked. 
 
 " Why yes," answered the prosaic fisherman, 
 " but it 'pears ter me ter be a bit lonesome. Why 
 der yer come here, Sally, ain't yer a feered? "
 
 Sally Pitts Asks Questions of Slack 157 
 
 " O my, no," she laughed. It was a musical 
 little outburst of mirth that vibrated through the 
 empty church. " I'm never afraid. When I'm 
 here alone I think such beautiful things. Don't 
 you ever, Slacky? " 
 
 " Well yes," answered Slack dubiously, " when 
 I hev a good summer's ketch er fish, er Millie 
 ain't cranky, er somethin' like thet; don't know 
 but I do." ' 
 
 Sally's laugh came back in rippling echoes. 
 
 " O, I don't mean that ! Don't you ever see 
 beautiful things when you are alone some- 
 times? " 
 
 " Em," ejaculated the fisherman, " yer know, 
 Sally, thet my eyesight ain't as good as it used 
 ter be. P'r'aps thet's th' reason thet I don' see 
 things." 
 
 Young as Sally was, she realized that her com- 
 panion was too material to understand what was 
 to her another life. She turned the current of 
 their conversation. 
 
 "Do people always get married in church?" 
 she asked. 
 
 " Not allus," he replied, " but it's quite com- 
 mon." 
 
 " Tell me what they do when they get mar- 
 ried." 
 
 " Well, bein' as how I never had any exper'- 
 ence, I d'know as I kin." 
 
 " They come in at the door and walk into the 
 vestry?"
 
 158 Hester Blair 
 
 " S'pose they do," he muttered. 
 
 " And when they are married, the minister 
 gives them a paper? " 
 
 " Yes, thet's a marriage certif'ket." 
 
 " What's thet for? " 
 
 " Why thet's ter show thet they've been mar- 
 ried." 
 
 Fr.om the certificate to Hester and the latest 
 tidings she had gleaned of her, was a circle that 
 the child's active mind quickly traversed. She 
 looked up into the eyes of her companion that 
 beamed affectionately upon her. 
 
 " I saw Jed to-night," she said, after a momen- 
 tary pause. 
 
 " Did yer? " queried Slack with manifest in- 
 terest, " what did he hev ter say? " 
 
 " Told me all about Hessie." 
 
 " Did he? Em " the tone of the ejaculation 
 spoke volumes. 
 
 " Yes," continued the child, as if recounting 
 some rare good fortune of her own, " how Hessie 
 is playin' all the time, and making lots of money ! 
 O, I'm so glad ! " 
 
 Slack patted her on the head with a woman's 
 gentleness, and taking one of her wasted little 
 hands in his own, fondled it caressingly. The 
 clock in the belfry struck the hour of eight. 
 
 " I must be a goin' ter th' store, Sally. Ben't 
 yer goin' home? It's late." 
 
 " Yes," she answered.
 
 Sally Pitts Asks Questions of Slack 1 59 
 
 They walked slowly up the aisle of the church. 
 As they neared the door Sally paused. 
 
 " Slacky, if we were going to be married, we'd 
 walk right down this aisle to the vestry." 
 
 " Yes," answered the wondering Slack. 
 
 " There would be two men with the minister, 
 and he would read out of a book " 
 
 " Yes," interjected Slack encouragingly. 
 
 " The minister would give me a what did you 
 call it, Slacky?" 
 
 " Certif'ket." 
 
 " That's it," she continued ; " and if it was 
 dark, the minister would hold the light for us to 
 go out." 
 
 " S'pose he would," agreed her companion. 
 
 " And when we were going out we would stop 
 to put on my cloak here, and if I dropped the 
 certif'ket " 
 
 " Then I s'pose yer'd pick it up agin," inter- 
 rupted the practical fisherman. 
 
 " But suppose I didn't know that I dropped 
 it?" 
 
 " O, thet would be different." 
 
 " And suppose a little girl like me was sitting 
 in that seat and saw me drop the paper." 
 
 " Then she'd pick it up and give it ter yer." 
 
 " But suppose we were running away, and 
 didn't want the little girl to know ; and we didn't 
 know the little girl was there? What should she 
 do with the paper, Slacky? "
 
 160 Hester Blair 
 
 In her excitement Sally grasped her compan- 
 ion's hand in both her own. Her eyes shone like 
 coals of fire; and the moonlight intensified the 
 pallor of her face, giving to it an uncanny ex- 
 pression that startled her companion. He be- 
 lieved it to be one of her odd, childish fancies, 
 and was willing to humor her. He replied : 
 
 " Well, p'r'aps the little girl would keep it, 
 and if we ever wanted it she'd hev it safe." 
 
 A sigh of satisfaction preceded her answer. 
 " I knew you'd say that, Slacky. Come, let us 
 go." 
 
 They passed out of the church to the street. 
 
 As they neared the store Slack bade the child 
 an affectionate good-night. " Come up ter th' 
 house ter-morrer an' I'll tell yer all 'bout New 
 York." 
 
 " Will you, Slacky? O aren't you good! " 
 
 Her eyes danced with expectancy; and her 
 feet barely touched the snow covered ground as 
 she ran down the street. 
 
 Slack stood at the door before entering. He 
 knew only too well the ordeal he had to face. 
 He could tell to a man those whom he would 
 meet; he could almost hear their voices as they 
 speculated on his doings while in New York. 
 
 The village people were endowed with all the 
 weaknesses of untutored minds that isolation 
 from the world breeds. Their scope of inter- 
 course was narrow, and their intellects were con- 
 tracted to conform to their surroundings. They
 
 Sally Pitts Asks Questions of Slack 161 
 
 placed themselves on a moral plane far above 
 their ability to maintain, and viewed their fel- 
 lows with unwarranted severity. They were so 
 far like their betters as to assume virtues they 
 did not possess, and to damn with vigor those 
 unfortunate enough to fall under their displeas- 
 ure. Wherein they were much like ordinary 
 mortals. Their simple minds magnified a failing 
 into a sin, and a sin into a crime. They nomi- 
 nated themselves judges ; but their verdicts were 
 tempered with neither discernment nor charity. 
 Slack knew them, he knew them well; and a 
 life-long intimacy did not strengthen his regard 
 for them quite the contrary ; and he held them 
 as a community in contempt. But there 
 were exceptions : there always are. It is a sad 
 doctrine that teaches us that all men are born 
 equal. They may be in the sight of Heaven ; but 
 that they are not equal, in the eyes of the world, 
 is becoming a fixed belief. And it is well. It is 
 the exceptions that make life bearable, and act 
 as a check to the consuming human passions. 
 Give one a pure mind, tempered by charity, and 
 Heaven is not far removed. 
 
 With these feelings in his heart, Slack opened 
 the door and entered. He was met by a dense 
 cloud of tobacco smoke and a vociferous volley 
 of greetings. They all spoke at once. Each in- 
 dividual in the room endeavored to shake his 
 hand at the same time; while each in his turn 
 offered his seat to the urbane Slack, whose fea-
 
 1 62 Hester Blair 
 
 tures were wreathed in an impenetrable smile. 
 His aggravatingly calm exterior had an air of 
 alertness, an expectancy of attack. He was on 
 the defensive. 
 
 Capt. Edwards began the discussion with : 
 
 " How's New York and how be Hessie a 
 doin'?" 
 
 " Well's could be expected in such a short 
 time ; tolerable well," was the nonchalant reply. 
 
 Here w r as a divergence at the outset from 
 Jed's glowing account of Hester's success. Be- 
 ing familiar with Slack's habit of withholding 
 facts concerning the Blair family, it only con- 
 firmed their belief that Jed's version was the 
 more authentic. 
 
 Slack watched the effect of his answer with 
 satisfaction. There was a look of " we know 
 more about it than you think we do," stamped 
 on every countenance, while the fishermen ex- 
 changed glances. He chuckled inwardly, but his 
 features retained their sphinx-like expression. 
 
 " How did yer find New York? " queried the 
 captain. 
 
 " Middlin'," was the off hand answer, " o' 
 course my stay wa'n't long 'nough ter get ac- 
 quainted with th' fust families; still I got ter 
 know a few." 
 
 " How's the fellers yer hed ter work with ? " 
 demanded Portuguese Joe. 
 
 " Tip-top," answered Slack warmly. " Mr. 
 Featherly hed a coachman who used ter drive
 
 Sally Pitts Asks Questions of Slack 163 
 
 fer Queen Victory. Me an' 'm wer 5 thicker 'n 
 six in a bed." 
 
 " Is thet so ! " exclaimed Joe. 
 
 " O yes," Slack's voice was tinged with regret. 
 " I hated ter part with 'im, he wer' so enter- 
 tainin'. We wer' jest like two brothers." 
 
 " An' th' Bowery? How wer' it? " laughed 
 Capt. Edwards, " Bad's they say it is? " 
 
 " Jest as quiet as the main street of the vil- 
 lage," replied Slack, " used ter tend th' gospel 
 meetin's there most every night." 
 
 " Then they must tell some consarned lies 
 about it ! " rejoined Joe. " Why," he continued 
 with warmth, " Ned Hasting, as used ter belong 
 ter th' life-savin' station he afterwards shipped 
 on a four-master tole me with his own mouth, 
 as how he got paid off, an' hed two hundred dol- 
 lars a comin' ter 'im. They unloaded in New 
 York, an' Ned kinder thought he'd like ter see 
 the Bowery. He strolled down ther' nine or ten 
 o'clock one night, an' how long d'yer think thet 
 two hundred dollars lasted?" 
 
 None dared venture a guess, and Joe con- 
 tinued: "Jest two hours! He found himself 
 fust in th' gutter, then in th' lockup, 'n he didn' 
 hev a copper. He tried to argue with the police- 
 man thet he had bin robbed, an' it took four 
 stitches ter sew up his head when the officer got 
 through clubbin' 'im." 
 
 " I found them most agreeable," Slack quietly 
 remarked. " They be nearly all Down Easters ;
 
 164 Hester Blair 
 
 leastwise those I met wer*. They tole me so. 
 One feller stepped up ter me an' said : ' Hello 
 Hiram.' I asked 'im how in thunder he knowed 
 my name. He said, 1 1 used ter know yer " Down 
 East " years ago.' O, he were real kind ! Sort 
 er took an interest in me from th' start; an' I 
 felt just the same toward him. He offered ter 
 show me th' sights, 'n 'fore I left 'm, yer'd jest 
 hev ter pull us apart. It wer' like my partin' 
 from the coachman what drove for Queen Vic- 
 tory." 
 
 Slack failed to add that it required Mr. Feath- 
 erly's influence, and a liberal sum of money, to 
 extricate him from the trouble. What did more, 
 perhaps, was the fact that the friend who had 
 known him " Down East " was a notorious 
 tough, a character well known to the police. 
 After Slack's encounter with him, the accomodat- 
 ing stranger was in the hospital two weeks for 
 repairs. But the fisherman considered it un- 
 necessary to speak of these details. 
 
 " D'yer see any o' the folks as wer' down here 
 last summer? " asked Capt. Edwards. 
 
 " Well," drawled Slack, " there was one as 
 wanted ter be remembered ter yer, Captain." 
 
 " The widder," they yelled in chorus. 
 
 Capt. Edwards attempted to speak, but his 
 voice was drowned in the uproar. When quiet 
 was resumed Slack said : 
 
 " Yer won't hev ter guess agin." 
 
 " How wer* she lookin', Slacky? "
 
 Sally Pitts Asks Questions of Slack 165 
 
 " Like a rose bush on a June day," he replied. 
 
 " Be she comin' here next summer? " 
 
 " Spect she be. Er course I don' know what'll 
 happen 'fore thet time. She be a mighty good 
 Lookin' woman; an' she's hed three tries at it 
 afore." 
 
 A simultaneous movement was made to ad- 
 journ for the night. They could discuss Slack's 
 visit to New York more freely when he was not 
 present; and the remainder of the long winter 
 evenings were before them. The door was 
 opened, and a flood of bright moon-light guided 
 them into the night without.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 LOVE GROWS NOT LESS BY WAITING 
 
 I'll keep all vows you ask for your dear sake 
 But one to love you less that will I break. 
 
 IT was the month of March following the death 
 of Ralph Featherly. 
 Hester had taken up her abode in modest 
 quarters on the west side of the city. The rooms, 
 two in number, were neatly but inexpensively 
 furnished, and were in marked contrast to the 
 luxurious apartment she had occupied during 
 the first few months of her stay in New York. 
 She had succeeded in procuring the position of 
 organist in one of the semi-fashionable churches, 
 and her income, though not large, was more than 
 sufficient for her modest wants. She had lived 
 quietly for the past few months, seeing but few 
 of her former friends. Mrs. Pendleton had 
 called upon her, but glad as Hester was to see 
 her, she did not encourage her visits. 
 
 Mrs. Pendleton had been aware of the attach- 
 ment that existed between Hester and Featherly 
 while they were at Norton. She had even en- 
 couraged it, and expressed the hope to Featherly 
 that it would result in marriage. She loved 
 Hester, and it was with keen disappointment 
 
 166
 
 Love Grows Not Less By Waiting 167 
 
 that she recognized her disinclination to keep 
 up more than a formal acquaintance. Hester 
 appreciated Mrs. Pendleton's trust in her, but 
 she wished to be alone ; for intercourse with her 
 former friends only kept alive the sorrow and 
 humiliation she had gone through. 
 
 John Gary, however, was a regular visitor; 
 but he was forced to content himself with one 
 weekly call. He made the most of these, trust- 
 ing that time would bring to Hester peace of 
 mind and the happiness of former years. The 
 world had gone well with him, and he had ad- 
 vanced with rapid strides in the shipping office 
 where he was employed. 
 
 There was a tacit understanding between Hester 
 and John, that they would not in any way allude 
 to the past; and a further agreement, that he 
 was not to speak to her of love. It was no easy 
 matter for him to conform to this arrangement; 
 but he struggled manfully, though not with en- 
 tire success. It pained Hester to see his unalter- 
 able devotion ; and, realizing his faith in her, it 
 touched her, as nothing else could do. 
 
 She was much occupied with her duties as or- 
 ganist, and the remainder of her time she de- 
 voted to study, and to works of charity. These 
 were so quietly and secretly performed, that but 
 few knew of them. She had associated herself 
 with a committee from the church, whose duty 
 it was to seek out and assist worthy cases for 
 charity ; and it was John's weekly call that broke
 
 1 68 Hester Blair 
 
 the endless routine. She grudgingly granted his 
 request that he might come to see her ; but it was 
 not long before she began to look forward to his 
 visits as an essential part of her life. When she 
 thought of his love that had remained steadfast 
 through all these years, when she considered that 
 his faith in her had never wavered during her life 
 with Featherly, though appearances were such as 
 might warrant him in condemning her, her heart 
 beats quickened, and a sigh of gratitude, tinged 
 with a tenderer emotion, would escape her. 
 
 On the mantel over the open fireplace was his 
 photograph, between her own and Ethel's, and 
 she would often stand before it and gaze at his 
 handsome, open countenance. He was the same 
 to-day as when they had climbed the bluff at 
 Norton, or had romped together as school fel- 
 lows, frank, generous to a fault, with a keen 
 sense of justice, and the highest of chivalric 
 honor. It was during the past few months that 
 she realized his true worth. She now appre- 
 ciated his love constant in its loyalty, and un- 
 selfish in its manly devotion. She did not, how- 
 ever, encourage him. She knew, only too well, 
 the stigma that had been cast upon her name, 
 that the world would judge her by appearances 
 only; and that it was her misfortune that these 
 were against her. She had anticipated the time 
 when John would renew his offer of marriage, 
 and was firmly determined to discourage his 
 suit. It was not of herself that she thought, but
 
 Love Grows Not Less By Waiting 169 
 
 of him. She felt that the cloud that was on her 
 name would cling to her through life, and in after 
 years rise, ghost-like, between them. 
 
 It was late in the afternoon of the early spring. 
 John had called at Hester's rooms and had been 
 informed by the janitress that Hester was not at 
 home. He left a small basket of fruit, saying he 
 would come again later in the day. He had gone 
 but a few minutes when the door bell rang, and 
 Fenton was admitted to the outer hall. He 
 mounted the stairs and knocked at Hester's door. 
 Miss Healy, the janitress, was in the room pre- 
 paring Hester's supper. She opened the door, 
 and Fenton, without an invitation, entered. 
 
 Miss Healy was a spinster of about five and 
 forty years, with a florid, open countenance. An 
 air of good-natured aggressiveness dominated 
 her. She took care of Hester's rooms, and filled 
 the position of housekeeper and general servant. 
 She was blunt and outspoken; feared neither 
 man, woman nor child ; yet withal, a kindhearted 
 creature thoroughly devoted to Hester. 
 
 She looked Fenton over suspiciously. She was 
 not pleased with his appearance or manner of en- 
 tering. She stood in front of him and scowled 
 her displeasure. 
 
 " What the divil d'yer want comin' in this way 
 without bein' ast? " she demanded. 
 
 Fenton favored her with a patronizing stare. 
 
 " My dear Mrs. " 
 
 " I'm no Mrs. if yer plaze. Fm a Miss sor, an*
 
 170 Hester Blair 
 
 as yer not good at guessin', my name's Healy, and 
 I'm the janitress. Now what's yer name, an' 
 what der yer want? " 
 
 " Ah, my dear Miss Fealy " 
 
 ' Healy, sor, Healy," she roared with rising 
 anger. 
 
 " Healy, to be sure. I called to see Miss 
 Blair." 
 
 " Well," came the reply, " ef yer eyesight is 
 anyways good, yer'll see that she's not at- 
 home." 
 
 Fenton took a bank bill from his pocket and 
 handed it to the astonished Healy. It was of 
 large denomination and represented, to her, a 
 month's wages. In his most conciliatory tone he 
 said : 
 
 " I'm sorry to have caused you so much trouble, 
 Miss Healy. The fact is, I'm a friend of Miss 
 Blair, and I wished to give her a little surprise. 
 As she is not at home, I prefer that you say 
 nothing of my visit. I will call again." 
 
 Miss Healy looked at the money which she held 
 in her hand, then at Fenton. She muttered : 
 
 " A twenty dollar bill ! Sure that man must 
 be crazy ! " 
 
 Nothing escaped Fenton's observation: the 
 plain furnishings, the modest side-board, the few 
 common chairs and the one rocking chair. 
 
 " Not particularly luxurious," he muttered 
 under his breath. He approached the table on 
 which was the basket of fruit. " Em," he
 
 Love Grows Not Less By Waiting 171 
 
 mused, " lives well ! Peaches at two dollars a 
 dozen ! A church organist can hardly afford it." 
 
 Miss Healy followed his movement. " A presi 
 ent from Mr. Gary," she said, as Fenton seemed 
 interested. He looked up quickly. 
 
 " Does he call often? " he asked. 
 
 " 'Bout onct a week," she replied. 
 
 Fenton turned to the sideboard and, unseen by 
 Miss Healy, one of his gloves dropped to the floor. 
 He walked toward the door. 
 
 " Miss Healy," he said, " I knew Miss Blair 
 before she came to New York. I can trust you to 
 say nothing of my visit until I call again? " 
 
 " Sure," she replied, " I suppose there's no 
 harrum done in sayin' nothin'." 
 
 " Quite so," he replied, " After I have seen Miss 
 Blair she will explain. Good-day, Miss Healy." 
 The door closed after him and he was gone. 
 
 Miss Healy stood motionless for some time. 
 She was not entirely satisfied that she had done 
 right. Twenty dollar bills were not given to 
 servants without some adequate return. Of that, 
 she was certain. What did he expect of her? 
 To say nothing to Hester of his call? She argued 
 that there could be no great harm in remaining 
 silent, If a doubt as to his honest intention 
 crossed her mind, the sight of the bill she held in 
 her hand dispelled it; and the cupidity with 
 which most human beings are endowed, varying 
 only in degree, soothed her conscience, and the 
 material part of her nature triumphed.
 
 IJ2 Hester Blair 
 
 " I guess it's all right," she muttered, " any- 
 how I'll kape th' money." 
 
 A knock at the door startled her. 
 
 " Come in," she called. John entered. 
 
 " Not home yet! " he said, " I'll wait" 
 
 Miss Healy went out by the rear entrance. 
 
 John walked about the room. He inspected 
 the articles in a work basket that lay on a small 
 table. " A woman's paradise," he said softly, 
 handling the contents caressingly. He turned 
 in the direction of the mantel, and seeing Fen- 
 ton's glove on the floor, picked it up and exam- 
 ined it carefully. 
 
 " A gentleman's glove," he mused, " and of the 
 finest quality: slender fingers, small hand, and 
 a distinct odor of lavender. I detest perfumes 
 when affected by men; but men don't affect 
 them. Males perhaps, men no." He looked at 
 the glove closely and spoke : 
 
 " Name inside? No, initials only. G. H. F. 
 Now who has been here since Hester went out? 
 Someone, surely; otherwise the glove wouldn't 
 be on the floor. Well, it's not for me to say; 
 but I'll keep the glove." 
 
 He walked to the mantel and took his photo- 
 graph from the wire bracket. 
 
 " And that's my humble self ! " He laughed 
 softly, " a revised edition, edited by my New 
 York tailor, with foot notes by the artist pho- 
 tographer. It flatters me until I blush at the 
 fraud. Heigh-ho! My taste must be depraved',
 
 Love Grows Not Less By Waiting 173 
 
 for after all, I prefer the homely Norton clothing, 
 creaseless trousers and all." 
 
 He replaced his photograph and looked at 
 Ethel's. " Dear little Ethel," there was a note 
 of tenderness in his voice, " with the eyes of in- 
 nocence that penetrate one's very soul." He took 
 Hester's portrait in his hands and held it before 
 him. He was standing in front of a mirror which 
 was directly opposite the door that led to the 
 front hall. He looked at the portrait long and 
 intently. He did not hear the door open, or see 
 Hester who had entered noiselessly. He spoke 
 softly : " Dear Hester " he saw her reflection 
 in the mirror. She smiled. 
 
 " John dear, I don't mind your making love to 
 my photograph, but remember your promise." 
 
 He took both her hands in his own as he an- 
 swered : 
 
 " I am not allowed to forget it. I am curbed 
 and bridled, both tongue and limb. But Hester 
 dear, there are some words in the English lan- 
 guage that I'd sooner not forget." 
 
 "John dear, it is better as it is; better that 
 you do forget; and now," she continued as she 
 laid her hat and wrap on the sofa, " a cup of tea." 
 
 She saw the fruit on the table and, shaking her 
 finger at him, assumed her most severe tone. 
 
 " Peaches at this season of the year ! What 
 extravagance ! If you continue it, you know the 
 penalty." 
 
 " Expulsion, and all because of a few peaches !
 
 174 Hester Blair 
 
 Am I to be allowed nothing? " he asked with 
 mock chagrin, " Not even to spend my salary as 
 it pleases me? " 
 
 " I don't care how you spend your salary," she 
 rejoined, " if you don't squander it on luxuries 
 that I can very well do without." She paused in 
 her tea making and surveyed him with proud in- 
 terest. " And," she continued, " aren't you get- 
 ting on famously in the office ! " 
 
 " Yes," he answered ruefully, " but " 
 
 " There, there, John dear, the tea is ready. Sit 
 here." She motioned him to a chair opposite her. 
 
 " Do you know John, I feel quite elated. I was 
 paid my salary to-day. O, money never seems so 
 good as when you earn it! I counted it again 
 and again." 
 
 " I'll warrant the church people parted with it 
 reluctantly enough like pulling teeth." 
 
 " Quite the contrary, John dear. They paid me 
 with the utmost good grace, and complimented 
 me for my playing. O, I feel quite proud ; and 1 
 sent the money to pay for Ethel's school tuition." 
 
 " Brave little woman ! " he exclaimed. 
 
 " I received a letter to-day from Norton. From 
 whom do you think? " 
 
 " From Millie," he ventured. 
 
 " No, from Slack. I'll read it to you ; that is, 
 as much of it as I can decipher." 
 
 Hester took the letter from her pocket and 
 read: 
 
 " l Dear Hessie, I jest thought I'd write ter
 
 Love Grows Not Less By Waiting 175 
 
 yer, bein bein ' I never can make that out, 
 no, impossible ! " 
 
 John rose and, placing his chair beside her, 
 looked over her shoulder. " Let me see," he de- 
 manded. 
 
 They held the letter before them to read it. 
 Their heads were close together. John con- 
 tinued : 
 
 " ' As how yer heven't writ ter me.' " 
 
 " Of course ! " Hester agreed, " how simple it 
 looks now." 
 
 John's disengaged arm stole around her waist. 
 She continued : 
 
 " * We be a waitin' fer fer ' " 
 
 " ' Summer time,' " John interjected, " ' an' it 
 do seem as though the Almighty wer er er ' ' 
 
 " ' Holdin' ' " John's cheek was within an 
 inch of Hester's. 
 
 " ' Onter th' days, they be so long in passin' a 
 waitin' fer summer.' " 
 
 " What does he mean? " she asked. 
 
 " He's trying to tell you that the days seem 
 long waiting for summer, when you go home to 
 Norton." 
 
 " Dear Slack," murmured Hester. John moved 
 his chair a little nearer. Hester proceeded. 
 
 " ' Millie's a studyin' up a new cook book ter 
 surprise yer. She's well, and able ter do her 
 usual amount o' frettin'. Sally Hopkin's goin' 
 ter marry Zeke Newcomb. Zeke, he ain't done a 
 day's work fer five years. Good fer Zeke, I wish
 
 176 Hester Blair 
 
 I could get 'long thout it same's he do. No more 
 no more ' 
 
 " * From ' " John's breath as he spoke, 
 brushed Hester's cheek. 
 
 " ' Old Slack,' " concluded Hester. 
 
 " But see ! " said John, " there's a postscript ! " 
 
 " To be sure," said Hester. 
 
 " * P. S. Afore I go inter th' house, I jest look 
 in at the winder, an' if Millie hes her lips pressed 
 pressed ' " " Tight," volunteered John. As 
 if it were a gentle reminder, his arm tightened 
 around Hessie's waist. She continued : 
 
 " ' I jest don' go inter the house at all. I 
 heven't combed my hair fer a week, 'cause it 
 makes Millie so dern mad. Yer shud hear her 
 go it Slack.' ' 
 
 John's cheek was pressed to Hester's. " Let's 
 read it all over again," he said. 
 
 Hester laughed and motioned him to a seat op- 
 posite her. 
 
 " I can get on very well alone, John, but isn't 
 that just like Slack? " 
 
 John, with a regretful sigh, seated himself op- 
 posite. 
 
 " One more cup of tea," she said, " and I will 
 help you on with your coat." 
 
 "So soon?" 
 
 " Yes, I must play at the church to-night." 
 
 " And I'll go and listen, and love you from the 
 far end of the church. You don't object to that, 
 do you, Hester? "
 
 Love Grows Not Less By Waiting 177 
 
 " No," she laughed, " not with the length of the 
 church between us." 
 
 She assisted him to put on his coat. When it 
 was on, he turned quickly, and folding his arms 
 about her held her close to him. 
 
 " Don't John," she protested, while the blood 
 rushed to her cheek and neck, " remember your 
 promise." 
 
 " Hester dear, love promises are made to be 
 broken. I am neither ice nor stone, but a strong 
 man, with a strong man's love. I can't go on see- 
 ing you week after week and suppress my feel- 
 ings." 
 
 " John," she answered sadly, " you make it- 
 harder for both of us. If you persist, I shall 
 have to deny myself the one comfort left me 
 that of seeing you. I know dear friend, your 
 worth. I wish to keep you near me, but we must 
 go on as we are, without change, without hope." 
 
 He kissed her on the cheek and released her. 
 
 " There Hester," he said, " perhaps I shall do 
 better in the future, but don't ask me to make 
 any more promises, for I shall surely break 
 them." 
 
 With a parting " good-bye " he was gone.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 " I AM THE DAUGHTER OF HENRY BLAIR " 
 
 Fear lives not but in hearts that's tuned to shame, 
 
 Distrust, and self-abasement; nor can bastard 
 
 Courage counterfeit the ring of truth. 
 
 'Tis not enough to say, such is, or is 
 
 Not so. The eye, the voice and gesture lend 
 
 To truth the evidence that make or mar 
 
 Plain speaking It were better we were dumb, 
 
 Than tongue should play the knave's part and betray us. 
 
 AFTER John had left her, Hester stood for 
 some minutes thinking. She knew the 
 depth of his love ; she felt that it was his 
 life, his very existence. She shuddered, for she 
 realized that the time would come when she 
 would be forced to give him an answer. She 
 walked to the mantel, and, looking lovingly at his 
 portrait, spoke softly : 
 
 " Dear John, there isn't a woman in the land 
 but would be proud to possess your love. Noble, 
 noble John ! " 
 
 With a sigh she went about her work. She 
 cleared the tea table and carried the dishes into 
 the adjoining room, where Miss Healy would 
 find them when she did her work. After arrang- 
 ing the furniture, as it was too early to go to 
 church, she busied herself with some fancy 
 needle work. Her mind reverted to her home; 
 
 178
 
 "I Am the Daughter of Henry Blair" 179 
 
 and she mentally counted the weeks and the days 
 until she should start for Norton. She longed 
 to see her sister ; yet it was with misgivings that 
 she considered her return. As for herself, she 
 knew the village gossips would not spare her; 
 and since the night of her husband's death, when 
 John had told her what they said, she could not 
 think of her return without a feeling of dread 
 that life would be made intolerable. But when 
 she thought of the inmates of her own home her 
 own family, for Slack and Millie she considered 
 of the family her courage returned. John was 
 a bulwark of strength, to stand between her and 
 the venom-dipped tongues that would assail her 
 name. But more than all, the consciousness that 
 before God she was pure, gave her added courage 
 to brave the ordeal. It was not alone her prom- 
 ise that deterred her from a declaration of her 
 marriage. All evidences of it had been de- 
 stroyed. The Rev. Dr. Coulton was dead; the 
 witnesses, seamen on her husband's yacht had 
 disappeared; the records of the parsonage had 
 been destroyed by fire; and her unsupported 
 word was all she had to offer. This, without 
 further proof, she knew to be insufficient. But 
 even if the proof were obtainable, she would not 
 have produced it. Her promise not to disclose 
 her marriage she held sacred; doubly so since 
 the death of her husband. 
 
 These thoughts filled her mind when she was 
 startled by a knock at the door. It was an event
 
 180 Hester Blair 
 
 for any one to call and it occurred to her that per- 
 haps John had returned. 
 
 " Come in," her voice was unsteady. 
 
 Fenton hurriedly entered the room, closing the 
 door behind him. 
 
 He was the last person in the world whom Hes- 
 ter expected to see, and it w r as some moments 
 before she recovered from her astonishment. She 
 had always disliked him. She had, however, dur- 
 ing her husband's lifetime, never mentioned his 
 name when she could avoid it. Knowing that a 
 friendship of long standing had existed between 
 the two men, and Fenton having been guarded in 
 his conduct toward her, she had remained silent. 
 
 He stood within the room. The silence became 
 embarrassing. 
 
 " Mr. Fenton ! " her voice betrayed some emo- 
 tion. 
 
 " I hardly expected that you'd remember me," 
 he answered with a smile. 
 
 Hester had risen at his entrance, " Pardon me 
 if I do not ask you to be seated," she said, " I do 
 not receive company here." Her tone was chilly 
 in the extreme. 
 
 He smiled blandly as he answered, " I discov- 
 ered only to-day where you lived. I realize that 
 since poor Featherly's death you've been in a sort 
 of mourning as it were " 
 
 The tone of his voice was half mocking. Hes- 
 ter's blood tingled in her veins. 
 
 " Well," she said.
 
 "I Am the Daughter of Henry Blair " 181 
 
 " You see," he continued, " St. Ruth's Church 
 is built on land leased from my estate." 
 
 " Your estate ! " echoed Hester. The words 
 had escaped her involuntarily. 
 
 " Yes, I learned to-day that you were organist 
 there. You see, Miss Blair, I have always taken 
 an interest in you. I " 
 
 " Pray be brief," interrupted Hester. 
 
 As he looked at her, an insolent smile played 
 about the corners of his mouth. So far as her 
 present occupation was concerned, she felt that 
 she was completely at his mercy. 
 
 He had come to Hester's room with the fixed 
 determination to ruin her in the eyes of church 
 authorities, if other means failed. His wealth 
 and the influence of his social position, made him 
 a power in church circles, and with the conscious- 
 ness of his position he answered her : 
 
 " Miss Blair, I have always been interested in 
 your welfare. You should move in a different 
 atmosphere " 
 
 " I am quite content, Mr. Penton. I " 
 
 " Pardon me," he interrupted, " with your 
 beauty and your exceptional accomplishments, 
 you should " 
 
 " And is this what you came to say to me? " 
 There was a note of anger tinged with sorrow in 
 her voice. 
 
 Nothing daunted he continued : 
 
 " You see, Miss Blair, I have a very fine estab- 
 lishment in the city, I wish to offer you "
 
 1 82 Hester Blair 
 
 " To offer me " she repeated. 
 
 A less confident man would have been warned 
 by the tone of her voice. Her eyes blazed. She 
 stood erect. 
 
 Fenton was slow to perceive, and slower still 
 to believe that one struggling with the world for 
 a bare subsistence, would turn away from the 
 life he was about to offer her. In his blind ego- 
 tism, Hester's self-restraint encouraged him. He 
 took it for a sign of her weakness, and, embold- 
 ened by what he considered the progress he was 
 making, answered : 
 
 " Exactly ! We begin to understand each 
 other. I am rich. I can give you every comfort, 
 every luxury. I offer you my protection " 
 
 " Just Heaven ! " Hester exclaimed in a voice 
 that was freighted with agony. " Have I not suf- 
 fered enough? Is there in store for me further 
 humiliation? Must I again undergo the scourge 
 to crush the little life and hope that yet remains? 
 Just God ! have I sinned against Thee, and is this 
 my punishment? " 
 
 Hester, while speaking, seemed unconscious of 
 the presence of Fenton. The muscles of her face 
 twitched convulsively. There was a drawn look 
 about the mouth that told the suffering she was 
 undergoing. Fenton's voice aroused her. 
 
 " Miss Blair" 
 
 " Don't, don't," she cried, " in Heaven's name, 
 don't ! " there was a threatening ring in her voice 
 that filled the room.
 
 "I Am the Daughter of Henry Blair" 183 
 
 " Be reasonable ! " he exclaimed. " Our inter- 
 ests are one, or should be. I offer you every ad- 
 vantage that money can give." 
 
 " You offer me but shame, humiliation ! " With 
 blazing eyes she pointed to the door. " Go, in 
 Heaven's name, go ! " 
 
 " And you refuse my friendship? " Fenton 
 asked with a sneer? " 
 
 " Refuse ! " she laughed bitterly, mockingly. 
 " Would to God I had power to rend you limb 
 from limb. You coward." 
 
 " Very heroic," sneered Fenton, " but you were 
 not so punctilious as to your virtue, when you 
 lived with Featherly as his " Fenton leaned 
 forward and hissed the word through his 
 clenched teeth. 
 
 " Ah ! " she retorted vehemently, " Before all 
 the world I say it is a lie ! " 
 
 " Do you think the music lesson scheme de- 
 ceived me? " He took a step toward her then 
 continued : " Come, let us not quarrel, listen to 
 reason." He approached as if to touch her. She 
 shrank from him. 
 
 " Don't," her tone was one of disgust, " your 
 touch would congeal the blood in my veins, and 
 turn my heart to stone. I have nothing to re- 
 proach myself with. I have wronged no one; I, 
 and I alone, have been the sufferer. Heaven in 
 good time will prove the truth of my words." 
 
 " When it comes to a struggle for daily bread, 
 Heaven lends but cold comfort; nor does it in-
 
 184 Hester Blair 
 
 sure positions to church organists. You will beg 
 for my protection, and that before long." 
 
 A look of conscious strength overspread Hes- 
 ter's features. She looked him straight in the 
 eyes. She was without fear, and her voice that 
 had rung through the room in the first moments 
 of her excitement, was now even and passionless. 
 
 " Enough," she said, " I am not of that order 
 of creature that can be cowed, frightened or 
 whipped into subjection. I have the physical 
 and moral courage of an honest woman. Don't 
 think any persecution that your vileness may sug- 
 gest would induce me to look upon you with any- 
 thing but loathing; or that your w r ealth could 
 turn me from the path of duty. My heart and 
 my life are open to God and the world. I am the 
 daughter of Henry Blair; strong in my love of 
 that name, yet stronger in my faith and trust in 
 Heaven. God's justice will yet overtake me, and 
 find me unsullied in mind and body, true to my 
 father's name and to myself. Go ! " 
 
 Fenton walked leisurely to the door and with 
 his hand on the knob turned and looked disdain- 
 fully at her. She stood erect, the tips of her fin- 
 gers resting on the table. Her eyes flashed, other- 
 wise she w r as as calm as if she were addressing 
 the pastor or one of the committee of the church. 
 Though a sympathetic word would have unnerved 
 her, before this ordeal of shame her courage was 
 supreme. Where an ordinary woman would 
 have recourse to tears, Hester's courage came to
 
 " I Am the Daughter of Henry Blair "185 
 
 her relief ; and she faced the man before her with 
 a calmness that was nearly superhuman. She 
 was absolutely without fear: only her eyes be- 
 traying her excitement and the determined 
 struggle she was making to retain her self con- 
 trol. Fenton opened the door. With a sneering 
 laugh he spoke : 
 
 " Very pretty, though a little tragic. I trust 
 you don't affect that style often. You can't ex- 
 pect that sort of rot to impress me to any marked 
 degree. I've seen that type of heroics before. It 
 is what we term the first stage. After our next 
 meeting you will be in a different frame of mind. 
 Adieu, until to-night." 
 
 His mocking laugh came through the door 
 when it closed behind him, and rang in her ears 
 long after he had gone. 
 
 Hester remained standing behind the table. 
 Her face wore a drawn expression. She appeared 
 years older than she had looked an hour previous. 
 
 " O, the shame ! " she spoke almost inaudibly, 
 " the shame, the shame ! Am I in the eyes of the 
 world a thing, a creature? Will all men look on 
 me as a chattel; all pure women pass me with 
 averted heads, fearing that my presence will con- 
 taminate them? Must I go through life pointed 
 at as an outcast? My sister " 
 
 Tears shone in her eyes as she thought of 
 Ethel. She clasped her hands together, and with 
 an effort controlled her emotions. The agony of 
 a lifetime was concentrated into the few moments
 
 1 86 Hester Blair 
 
 that she stood thus. She spoke again in a half 
 whisper : 
 
 " Until to-night. What does he mean? He is 
 connected with the church. Heaven doesn't in- 
 sure positions to church organists. Must I again 
 have my heart wrung? Ah ! " she exclaimed in a 
 sorrowful voice, " my fa-tal promise ! " 
 
 She crossed the room and took Cary's portrait 
 in her hand. 
 
 " God grant that you may be near me." 
 
 She spoke the words with the solemnity of a 
 prayer; then replacing the portrait in its place, 
 glanced at the clock on the mantel. With nerv- 
 ous energy she put on her cloak and hat and 
 went out. 
 
 Hester's footsteps were echoing in the hallway, 
 when the door leading to the rear entrance was 
 cautiously opened, and Miss Healy's head was 
 thrust into the aperture. Her shoulders and the 
 upper part of her body followed, and she peered 
 into the room. Her face was a study. Rage and 
 chagrin were depicted on her generously endowed 
 features. Her eyes, feet and hands danced in 
 unison as she swung herself into the room. It 
 was painfully evident that she was not pleased, 
 that she was, in fact, in a towering passion. It 
 is hardly necessary to state, that it was Miss 
 Healy's interest in Hester's affairs that prompted 
 her to remain outside the door of the rear en- 
 trance, with her ear in close proximity to the
 
 " I Am the Daughter of Henry Blair " 187 
 
 key-hole, during Hester's interview with Fenton. 
 It was a favorite occupation of hers when Hester 
 had visitors. She soothed her conscience with 
 the argument that the safety of her lodgers was 
 of paramount importance, necessitating a closer 
 intimacy with their concerns than could be 
 gleaned from her own quarters on the first floor. 
 Perhaps she was right. Be that as it may, she 
 danced several intricate steps in the center of the 
 room, before her power of speech, which, seem- 
 ingly, had been paralyzed by her wrath, returned. 
 She made several attempts to articulate before 
 her voice gladdened her ears, and set the modest 
 pieces of china on the side-board jingling. The 
 roar that followed could be compared to no 
 known human sound. 
 
 After a series of " Ohs," ejaculated in every 
 tone of the chromatic scale of the middle register, 
 with her hands clenched in the air, she found 
 words to ease her consuming wrath. 
 
 " If I hed thot man now, I'd strangle him ! An' 
 ter think thet I took the black-hearted divil's 
 money ! " 
 
 She threw the money Fenton gave her on the 
 floor, and danced upon it long and frantically. 
 Gasping for breath, she continued : " O, he'll 
 cum agin ; an' I'll mate 'im as swate as a glass o' 
 nictar; an' when I hev 'im half way up thim 
 three flights uv stairs, Oh! " she emphasized her 
 ejaculation with a scuffle of her feet " I'll kick
 
 1 88 Hester Blair 
 
 >im into the street! I'll walk on 'im, an' I'll 
 jump on 'im! Oh, oh, oh! The divil fly away 
 wid 'im ! " And with this final and terrible im- 
 precation she fled from the room.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 MRS. ST. JUST AND MRS. HOUSEMAN EXCHANGE 
 CONFIDENCES 
 
 They cooed and smiled, as the time they whiled, 
 
 In blasting some fair name. 
 Foul pomp! foul pride! The angels sighed, 
 
 And Charity wept for shame. 
 
 THE shades of a brilliantly clear evening were 
 closing in upon the city, and night, usurp- 
 ing the last, lingering gleams in the west- 
 ern sky, held sway; disputed only by the stars, 
 that struggled one by one, to replace the beauty 
 of the dying glow of a golden sunset. 
 
 The doors of St. Buth's church were thrown 
 wide open, and the tones of the organ, in waves 
 of harmony, greeted the congregation as they 
 entered. 
 
 The services were in progress some minutes, 
 when two ladies entered the antechamber that 
 connected the church edifice with the adjoining 
 parsonage. This room was used as a committee- 
 room and office, where the business of the church 
 was transacted. Double doors opened from the 
 antechamber to the main edifice, and commanded, 
 when open, a full view of the church interior. 
 
 Mrs. St. Just, the elder of the two was fash- 
 189
 
 190 Hester Blair 
 
 ionably dressed. She was a woman of doubtful 
 age, of good figure, and haughty carriage. Her 
 features wore an expression of settled calm. Her 
 eyes were of a cold steel blue, and her voice was 
 chilling in its metallic evenness. She seemed de- 
 void of feeling or passion, and whether natural 
 or affected, her manner was that of a woman of 
 the world who found little in it to interest her. 
 Her companion, Mrs. Houseman, though younger, 
 was not so well preserved, and her unnatural 
 color added nothing to her severely plain fea- 
 tures. She was gowned with an eye to effect ; and 
 her appearance indicated the fashionable woman, 
 who, at some period of her life, had enjoyed the 
 world to its utmost. 
 
 Mrs. St. Just opened the door a few inches and 
 peered into the church. A flood of music filled 
 the room, dying to an echo as she closed the 
 door. 
 
 " She plays divinely," she said, turning to her 
 companion, " pity we must lose her." 
 
 " True," replied Mrs. Houseman, " but the 
 morals of the congregation must not be endan- 
 gered. 'Tis ever thus," she continued with a 
 sigh, " get some one who is entirely satisfactory 7 
 and presto! you discover that a leaf in the 
 book of their past life has been soiled." 
 
 Mrs. St. Just peered again into the church. 
 Mrs. Houseman looked over her shoulder. 
 
 " Did you ever see such a fright as Mrs. Thorn- 
 croft in that bonnet? "
 
 Mrs. St. Just and Mrs. Houseman 191 
 
 " Horrible," whispered her companion, " such 
 shocking bad taste. She must be color blind ! " 
 
 " Who is that with the Hadleys? " 
 
 " Don't know. Stunning, isn't he? " 
 
 " Distinguished looking, to say the least." 
 
 " Will you look at the fit of that Brownly girl's 
 dress. I do believe she made it herself." 
 
 " Just what I said when I first saw it," replied 
 the younger woman, " She says it's ' a Worth/ 
 She brought it with her from Europe last sum- 
 mer." 
 
 " Horrors ! It looks as if it were thrown at 
 her." 
 
 Their eyes traversed the length of the church 
 interior. 
 
 " There come the Sutherlys down the cen- 
 ter aisle," murmured Mrs. St. Just sweetly, 
 " pity someone doesn't teach the girls how to 
 walk." 
 
 " How should they know? " replied Mrs. 
 Houseman in an undertone, " It seems only yes- 
 terday that their father was herding cattle out 
 west somewhere ; as for their mother " 
 
 " O ! " exclaimed her companion in a tone of 
 disgust, " she's simply impossible ! " 
 
 A pause ensued. The voice of the pastor was 
 exhorting his listeners to exercise true Christian 
 charity. Mrs. St. Just closed the door abruptly. 
 
 " I detest that young Wakefield girl. She has 
 the air of a princess." 
 
 "You know what they say?" demanded her
 
 192 Hester Blair 
 
 companion with the manner of one who has a 
 choice morsel of news to reveal. 
 
 " No ! " queried Mrs. St. Just eagerly; 
 
 Mrs. Houseman walked forward and whis- 
 pered in her ear, then stepping back a few paces, 
 waited for the expression of surprise that she 
 knew would follow. 
 
 " With Col. Houghton ! Clandestinely ! Father 
 doesn't know it? " 
 
 Mrs. Houseman purred softly and shook her 
 head. This was to her a moment of exquisite 
 pleasure. To think that she should be the first 
 to inform Mrs. St. Just, who was accredited with 
 knowing more of the secrets of the members of 
 the congregation, than was good for any one per- 
 son. 
 
 They smiled sweetly. Mrs. St. Just spoke: 
 
 " Em ! I believed there was something back 
 of that queenly manner. How long has this affair 
 been going on? " 
 
 " O, for ever so long ! Everyone is talking 
 about it." 
 
 " When I meet her again, I'll give her the cut 
 direct." 
 
 " Don't think of such a thing ! They are im- 
 mensely wealthy. Aren't you worldly enough to 
 know that wealth has license? " 
 
 " True. One has no right to look into social 
 windows that have golden shutters." 
 
 A pause. Then: 
 
 " Mr. Fenton is late."
 
 Mrs. St. Just and Mrs. Houseman 193 
 
 " He may be waiting in the parsonage." 
 
 " No," the other rejoined, " he was to come 
 here through the parsonage." 
 
 Mrs. St. Just opened the door cautiously, then 
 turned to her companion. 
 
 " What a fright Mrs. Ide is getting to be. She 
 looks fully fifty." 
 
 " She says she's thirty-six," replied Mrs. House- 
 man with a suppressed giggle. 
 
 " Helen, you'll make me laugh outright. I'm 
 forty-six, and she was a young lady when I was 
 in swaddling clothes." 
 
 She again turned to the door. Her companion 
 threw her hands into the air, and with a look of 
 resignation, murmured under her breath : " For- 
 ty-six ! " 
 
 Mrs. St. Just turned to her companion. 
 
 " Helen, don't you think Mr. Fenton is mani- 
 festing an extraordinary interest in church mat- 
 ters, particularly " 
 
 " Well ? " queried Mrs. Houseman. 
 
 " In this matter of Miss Blair. You don't sup- 
 pose " began her companion. 
 
 " Dear me, I don't know. You remember that 
 affair of his with Mrs. " 
 
 " Sh ! " exclaimed Mrs. Houseman, " He has 
 returned to the path of duty. Besides, we were 
 much in his company at one time; and it would 
 hardly do for us to criticize " 
 
 " You don't believe " 
 
 " How unsophisticated you are. I never ei-
 
 194 Hester Blair 
 
 ercise my doubting faculties when an influential 
 member of the church is concerned." 
 
 " Strange that he doesn't come." 
 
 " Don't worry, dear, his interest is too marked 
 to delay him long." 
 
 The door leading to the parsonage opened and 
 Fenton entered. Mrs. St. Just advanced to meet 
 him. 
 
 " My dear Mr. Fenton ! We almost despaired. 
 We were discussing you as you entered." 
 
 " Yes," he replied, " and " 
 
 " And rejoicing," cooed Mrs. Houseman, " in 
 the active interest you take in church matters of 
 late." 
 
 " I but follow your very good example," he 
 said. 
 
 " How kind of you to say so," the ladies re- 
 joined. 
 
 Fenton looked from one to the other and 
 smiled. He had known them for more years than 
 they would care to acknowledge ; and, as he noted 
 their expression of demure, studied calm, and con- 
 trasted it with certain episodes in their lives, it 
 was with difficulty that he could restrain himself 
 from giving way to an outburst of mirth. While 
 he felt secure in his position, knowing that both 
 the ladies, who had entire charge of the music of 
 the church, would do his bidding, he did not wish 
 to needlessly offend them. It was to them that 
 Hester owed her position ; and it must be through 
 them that she should lose it. But their air of
 
 Mrs. St. Just and Mrs. Houseman 195 
 
 meekness was too much for him and with ill-con- 
 cealed pleasure at their discomfiture, he turned 
 to Mrs. St. Just. 
 
 " Of course," he said, " the memories of old 
 times obtrude themselves. The remembrance of 
 those little suppers at Sherry's " 
 
 " Please, please don't ! " Mrs. St. Just's tone 
 was indignant. Her companion suppressed a 
 laugh. 
 
 " Or that little affair at Tuxedo." 
 
 Mrs. Houseman blinked at him knowingly; 
 then in a shocked voice : " My dear Mr. Fen ton ! " 
 
 " That winter in the south of France," ven- 
 tured Fenton. 
 
 " O dear me," chimed in Mrs. St. Just, " that 
 was delightful. Ah, the divine climate, the beau- 
 tiful Mediterranean stretching out before us, 
 rivaled only by the azure sky Nice with its 
 marble palaces and Sunday services, so grand, 
 
 so so " words failed, and a sigh, eloquent 
 
 in its reminiscent regretfulness, filled the cham- 
 ber. 
 
 " Yes," answered Fenton to this wave of feel- 
 ing, " and Monte Carlo ! and the little games of 
 roulette we played ! " 
 
 The heads and shoulders of both ladies were 
 thrown back in dignified protestation. 
 
 " Please don't speak of that ! " they exclaimed. 
 In a lapse of caution, Mrs. Houseman continued : 
 
 " And that scandalous affair of Mrs. Von Etty ! 
 Cheating!"
 
 196 Hester Blair 
 
 " Sh ! " expostulated Mrs. St. Just, holding her 
 head very high and folding her hands, " we were 
 younger then." 
 
 " Yes," laughed Fenton, " and much too giddy 
 for pillars of the church." 
 
 " My dear Mr. Fenton, you forget," said Mrs. 
 St. Just. Her tone betrayed virtuous indigna- 
 tion. 
 
 " O no," rejoined Fenton, " not at all. I re- 
 member a little dinner party on board my yacht 
 that was quite upset, because one of the fair 
 guests monopolized a certain lady's husband." 
 
 Mrs. St. Just forgot her studied calm, her high- 
 standing in church circles, and the voice in which 
 she answered was refreshingly natural. 
 
 " She was a little beast! I told her " 
 
 " Quite so," Fenton blandly interrupted, " and 
 that little affair at Newport. The flowers were 
 misdirected, and the blundering messenger de- 
 livered them to the donor's wife by mistake. 
 There was a note hidden among the forget-me- 
 nots." 
 
 Mrs. Houseman turned away to hide a smile. 
 Mrs. St. Just had been walking up and down the 
 room, lashing herself into a passion. As Fenton 
 finished, she paused in her walk and faced him. 
 Her eyes flashed the scorn she could not utter. 
 
 A sigh of commiseration from the other mem- 
 ber of the committee developed into a suppressed 
 giggle. She was hearing what she had never 
 dared to say, and it was doubly sweet to her com-
 
 Mrs. St. Just and Mrs. Houseman 197 
 
 ing from Fenton. Mrs. St. Just broke in upon 
 her enjoyment with : 
 
 " Don't refer to that, Mr. Fenton, if you 
 please. I tore that note into a thousand pieces 
 before the very eyes " 
 
 " Of course you did," interrupted Fenton, 
 " you were quite right. And the tenor of the 
 opera who called so often that the husband " 
 
 " Mr. Fenton, I beg you to remember " 
 
 Fenton laughed, then : 
 
 " I do remember. But that was before we saw 
 the folly of our ways and became active church 
 members." 
 
 Mrs. St. Just was incensed. Not only was She 
 annoyed that she had given way to her temper, 
 but, up to this time, some of the incidents re- 
 ferred to by Fenton were unknown to her friend, 
 Mrs. Houseman. She felt that in losing her self- 
 control, she had, to a degree, sacrificed her 
 dignity. She could no longer pose as the im- 
 perturbable woman of the world. Her wonted 
 calm had disappeared in the riot of long for- 
 gotten memories. 
 
 To Fenton's last remark she answered with a 
 vain attempt at her former studied composure, 
 but there was a sting both in voice and words. 
 
 " And now, Mr. Fenton, it's so good of you to 
 interest yourself in this unfortunate affair of the 
 organist." 
 
 " So good of you," chimed in Mrs. Houseman 
 with a sweet smile. While she keenly relished
 
 198 Hester Blair 
 
 the discomfiture of her friend, she was ready to 
 join forces with her. Mrs. St. Just's allusion to 
 Hester, gave her the key note of what was to 
 come, and she entered into the spirit of retalia- 
 tion that her companion evinced, with a zest 
 worthy of a better, if not a more womanly cause. 
 
 Fenton looked sharply at one and then the 
 other of the ladies. He knew the spirit that 
 prompted their allusions to Hester ; still his self- 
 confidence did not waver. He had known them 
 many years; and he felt assured of their assist- 
 ance, if not of their sympathy. 
 
 " Have you known her long? " asked Mrs. St. 
 Just. 
 
 " Since the unfortunate affair with Feath- 
 erly," he answered. 
 
 " Quite natural that you should take an in- 
 terest in her spiritual welfare," said Mrs. St. 
 Just languidly. 
 
 " Quite," echoed Mrs. Houseman. 
 
 " A Christian interest only," Fenton replied 
 assuringly. 
 
 " A beautiful example of true moral philan- 
 thropy, which we shall try to emulate," said Mrs. 
 St. Just, 
 
 " Ladies," Fenton's voice was conciliatory, " I 
 could not forbear acquainting you with her true 
 life. Your noble example will " 
 
 "Ah, you exaggerate!" they raised their 
 daintily gloved hands in expostulation, " yet we 
 hope to redeem her."
 
 Mrs. St. Just and Mrs. Houseman 199 
 
 " Well I know I can trust you for old time 
 sake," rejoined Penton. He emphasized the last 
 three words, and the look he bestowed on his 
 hearers was eloquent in its self-assurance. 
 
 " Please do not refer to that period when we 
 did not take life so seriously as we do now," Mrs. 
 Houseman ventured. 
 
 " Em, yes," there was a touch of sarcasm in 
 his tone, " we all reach that serious point in time. 
 With the ladies, it begins when their dance order 
 is not filled. Then their mirror the hateful mir- 
 ror shows the first wrinkle. Tears! Heart- 
 aches ! And then the consoling influence of re- 
 ligion. Ah " 
 
 " Hush ! " Mrs. St. Just said softly, " the serv- 
 ices are finished." 
 
 The Rev. Dr. Dean entered by the side door, 
 and, approaching Fenton, held out his hand. 
 
 " My dear Mr. Fenton, I trust you are mis- 
 taken in this matter of the organist." 
 
 " Unfortunately, I am not," replied Fenton. 
 
 " I cannot," replied the minister, " bring my- 
 self to believe anything but good of Miss Blair. 
 In my years of labor I have met many people, and 
 have mingled with all classes ; seldom have I been 
 mistaken, and never have I encountered in any 
 walk of life, one in whom I have more confidence 
 than in the lady in question. 
 
 " My dear Dr. Dean," answered Mrs. St. Just, 
 " you are guided in this matter by your heart and 
 not by your reason. We all feel keenly for Miss
 
 200 Hester Blair 
 
 Blair; but Mr. Fenton's knowledge of her past 
 life, and the evidence in his possession that she 
 still lives improperly, leaves us no other alterna- 
 tive than to dispense with her services." 
 
 " It pains me to hear of your decision," re- 
 plied the minister. " As you have entire control 
 of the matter, you will, I trust, nay I beg of you, 
 give her a hearing." 
 
 " Most certainly," replied Mrs. St. Just. 
 
 Mrs. Houseman did not enter into the discus- 
 sion. She viewed the proceeding with ill-con- 
 cealed disapproval. Under her artificial, worldly 
 coating, she was good at heart; and she did not; 
 enter into Fenton's new found moral intensity 
 with any degree of warmth. Moreover, she knew 
 Fenton, and she mistrusted his motives. She was, 
 in a sense, under the domination of Mrs. St. Just, 
 and this, with the fear of Fenton, silenced the 
 promptings of her naturally honest, sympathetic 
 nature, and she remained silent. 
 
 The Rev. Dr. Dean turned to Fenton, " You 
 have evidence? " he asked. 
 
 " Yes," answered Fenton, " I not only know 
 of her improper life with the late Mr. Featherly, 
 but that she receives her former lover, whom 
 she threw over to live with Mr. Featherly. You 
 can question her, she cannot deny it." 
 
 The congregation had departed. The organ 
 playing had ceased. Mrs. St. Just turned to the 
 minister, " Come," she said, " we will speak to 
 her as she comes down."
 
 Mrs. St. Just and Mrs. Houseman 201 
 
 The minister motioned them toward the door 
 through which he had entered. It opened into 
 the church under the gallery opposite the organ 
 loft.
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 IN THE CHURCH. " I AM THE COUNTRY LOVER." 
 
 Fair Justice paused and shuddering turned away. 
 
 " I travel by circuitous route," she quoth: 
 " God's vengeance waits, nor grows less by delay." 
 
 Fate smDing said: "I'll answer for us both." 
 
 HESTER slowly descended the stairs. A dim 
 flame burned in the large chandelier; the 
 huge pillars cast ghost-like shadows ; and 
 the subdued light added an air of solemn gran- 
 deur to the deserted church. Hester did not see 
 the minister and his companions, for the gallery 
 hid them from view. As she was about to turn 
 up the center aisle, they walked into the light. 
 
 " Miss Blair," said Mrs. St. Just in a tone that 
 was devoid of feeling, " representing the com- 
 mittee who are entrusted with the duty of pro- 
 viding music for the church, I am compelled to 
 say that we shall no longer require your serv- 
 ices." 
 
 The suddenness of the announcement delivered 
 in this abrupt manner was a shock to Hester, and 
 she stood motionless for some moments unable 
 to reply. As she did not answer Mrs. St. Just 
 continued : 
 
 " Information has reached us that your char- 
 acter "
 
 In the Church 203 
 
 The words aroused Hester and she echoed, " My 
 character ! " 
 
 " Is such, I grieve to say, as to warrant the 
 church in dispensing with your services." 
 
 " My character ! Information ! " repeated Hes- 
 ter. 
 
 " Yes," answered Mrs. St. Just coldly, " evi- 
 dence has been given us that is conclusive. It 
 is better that your engagement as organist ter- 
 minate without going into " 
 
 The full force of this statement struck home 
 to Hester with telling effect. Realizing the full 
 meaning of the charge, with flashing eyes, hold- 
 ing herself erect, she stepped forward a few 
 paces. Her voice, although not pitched above 
 the ordinary key, rang through the church in 
 tones of bell-like clearness. 
 
 " Do you think me so utterly lost to what is 
 due my self-respect that I will calmly submit to 
 this injustice? Do you expect me to surrender 
 my good name without demanding the evidence 
 of which you speak : of being brought face to face 
 with my accuser? This is my right, and I demand 
 it as my right." 
 
 The beauty of her face and figure stood out in 
 dim relief against the background of towering 
 pillars and rows of pews, that were lost in dark- 
 ness at the far end of the church. She stood be- 
 fore her accusers proudly erect, with nothing in 
 her bearing to indicate that she was the accused. 
 They were impressed by her calm, dignified man-
 
 204 Hester Blair 
 
 ner; and the truth carrying tones of her voice 
 disconcerted them. 
 
 The ladies, at least, had expected tears, en- 
 treaties, and petition for clemency; and Hester's 
 bearing and the confident ring in her voice, was 
 as disappointing as it was unexpected. 
 
 The Rev. Dr. Dean regarded Hester with the 
 same courteous, respectful interest that he had 
 always shown her. He did not for an instant 
 doubt her ; but he also realized that it was not for 
 him to interfere. 
 
 Hester felt that she still retained the con- 
 fidence of the pastor, and after waiting a moment 
 for Mrs. St. Just to reply, she turned to him. 
 
 " Am I to understand, sir," she asked, " that 
 my dismissal meets with your approval? " 
 
 " It does not," he quietly answered. 
 
 " Then," said Hester, " it is to the committee 
 I must look for vindication, or the proof that they 
 claim to possess." 
 
 Mrs. St. Just, after the minister's assurance, 
 realized that she was losing ground. She w T as 
 not prepared to meet the minister's moral sup- 
 port which he extended to Hester; and she well 
 knew that she could expect but little help from 
 Mrs. Houseman, whose executive ability was in 
 keeping with her weak, vacillating nature. 
 
 Fenton had remained in the shadow of the gal- 
 lery. It was his desire to procure Hester's dis- 
 charge without his personal interference. He
 
 "It is a lie ! "
 
 In the Church 205 
 
 waited with some degree of temerity for Mrs. St. 
 Just to reply. 
 
 She cast a withering look at Hester. She was 
 conscious that Hester's tone and manner were 
 far more convincing than the impression she had 
 so far been able to make, at least, on one of her 
 listeners the Rev. Dr. Dean. The slight interest 
 she felt in the truth or falsity of the charge, was 
 over-shadowed by her chagrin at being out- 
 matched. In a cold, cutting voice, she addressed 
 Hester. 
 
 " I wished to spare you. Know then, that we 
 are acquainted with your past relations with the 
 late Mr. Featherly " 
 
 A cry of agony escaped Hester. She staggered 
 back a few paces and grasped the railing of the 
 gallery stairs for support. Her weakness was 
 but momentary. Her voice rang through the 
 church as she answered: 
 
 " It is a lie ! " 
 
 Mrs. St. Just glanced at her with pitying 
 scorn, and throwing up her gloved hands in a 
 despairing gesture, turned to Mrs. Houseman. 
 
 " We had hoped for contrition " 
 
 "You had hoped for contrition?" demanded 
 Hester. " For what? I have done no wrong. 
 Would you have me acknowledge guilt where 
 none exists? " 
 
 Hester had regained her self composure, and 
 stood before them calm and self-contained. The
 
 206 Hester Blair 
 
 pallor of her face was intensified by the dim light, 
 but no other outward sign betrayed her feelings. 
 She took a step toward the ladies. 
 
 " Consider madam, you convict me unheard. 
 You have asked me for no explanation ; you have 
 given me no opportunity to make one. Does not 
 the faith that you profess, prompt you to exer- 
 cise the Christian principles that you are 
 taught?" Turning to the Rev. Dr. Dean, she 
 asked him : " Am I to be condemned unheard? " 
 
 " No," he answered firmly, " not with my con- 
 sent" 
 
 " My dear sir," began Mrs. St. Just, addressing 
 the minister, " you are too lenient by far." She 
 turned almost fiercely on Hester. 
 
 " You will not deny that you lived with Mr. 
 Featherly? " 
 
 " I deny nothing," answered Hester coldly. 
 
 " Would you have us believe " 
 
 " Believe what you will " 
 
 " And you will not answer? " demanded Mrs. 
 St. Just. 
 
 " No," came the reply in a tone that reverber- 
 ated through the church, and was lost in the 
 organ loft above in a faint echo. 
 
 Mrs. St. Just was for the second time forgetting 
 her mask of calmness. Her voice was raised to 
 a shrill pitch, and with savage intensity she 
 asked: 
 
 " You were not his wife? " 
 
 " I will not answer," came the calm reply.
 
 In the Church 207 
 
 " Then," replied Mrs. St. Just in passionate 
 tones, " the charge is true." 
 
 " My child," spoke the minister, there was a 
 tone of tenderness in his voice, " at least say your 
 relations with Mr. Featherly were without sin." 
 
 The answer came slowly and solemnly, each 
 word distinct, and uttered in clear, musical tones, 
 devoid of passion, that carried conviction to the 
 heart of the questioner. 
 
 " Before God, I swear it! " 
 
 Her voice died in a musical cadence that 
 re-echoed through the vast edifice. 
 
 " I believe you," said the minister quietly. 
 
 " Sir ! " exclaimed Mrs. St. Just excitedly, 
 " you are being imposed upon. She is incor- 
 rigible ! " 
 
 Fenton was beginning to be alarmed. He 
 noted the effect of Hester's denial upon the min- 
 ister, and realized that in him she had a strong 
 ally and staunch friend. Of the loss of her posi- 
 tion he felt assured, but this alone would not 
 satisfy him, nor further, in any marked degree, 
 his plans. He was determined that she should 
 be disgraced, driven forth with the brand of 
 shame upon her that would preclude the possi- 
 bility of her obtaining another position. He must 
 drag her down, humble her, and destroy any 
 future hope of her pursuing her profession as a 
 means of livelihood. With these thoughts in his 
 mind, he stepped from the shadow of the gallery 
 and spoke:
 
 208 Hester Blair 
 
 " Sir, she can deceive you, but not the ladies." 
 
 " You ! " cried Hester, recoiling from him. She 
 turned to the minister and pointed at Fenton. 
 " No need to name my accuser. He is there ! Not 
 satisfied with offering me a life of shame, he must 
 strike at me again." 
 
 Fenton laughed sneeringly. 
 
 Hester's tone and the intensity of her feelings 
 thrilled her listeners. 
 
 " And even here," she cried, " here under the 
 shadow of the altar of Almighty God, here ! while 
 his teachings still echo in the stillness, with a 
 relentlessness born of lust, and a daring fostered 
 by the souls he has destroyed, even here, under 
 the shadow of the cross, he dares a just Heaven 
 that but pauses ere it deals him retribution." 
 
 " This is blasphemous," cried Mrs. St. Just. 
 
 " It is true," answered Hester in a calm tone. 
 " Only to-day he came to my room with a pro- 
 posal that no .honest woman listens to but with 
 shame." 
 
 Hester's denunciation made a marked impres- 
 sion on the minister. While she was hurling the 
 charges, Fenton felt the doubt and mistrust in 
 the minister's glance. He made an attempt to 
 appear self-possessed ; but he was conscious that 
 his efforts were unsuccessful. 
 
 " They'll believe that," he said with a sneering 
 smile, addressing Hester. 
 
 "Again, I say it is true!" she answered in 
 ringing tones.
 
 In the Church 209 
 
 " Enough ! " exclaimed Mrs. St. Just, " if the 
 affair with the late Mr. Featherly were not suffi- 
 cient to render you unfit for the position you 
 hold, we know that you receive in your rooms " 
 
 " The country lover ! " interjected Fenton 
 sneeringly, " he hasn't the wealth of my late 
 friend Featherly, but " 
 
 He got no farther: John Gary stood before 
 him. John had remained after the services wait- 
 ing for Hester. He had been sitting at the far 
 end of the church, and had been a silent listener 
 to all that had taken place. When reference had 
 been made to his visits to Hester, unobserved, 
 he had walked down the aisle of the church, and 
 now stood with folded arms before the astonished 
 group. 
 
 Dr. Dean knew John and held him in high re- 
 gard. Being the only one who retained his com- 
 posure, the minister turned to John : 
 
 " Mr. Gary," he said quietly. 
 
 " I am the country lover referred to," said 
 John. " I wish to speak for myself." He turned 
 to Fenton. " But first a word with you, sir. You 
 denied that you were at Miss Blair's rooms to- 
 day." 
 
 " I did," answered Fenton suavely. 
 
 " Where is your other glove? " demanded John, 
 pointing to the glove which Fenton held in his 
 hand. 
 
 " I dropped it, probably, in the parsonage as 
 I came in," answered Fenton.
 
 2io Hester Blair 
 
 " You know that to be false." Taking from 
 his pocket the glove that he had found in Hester's 
 room, he continued : " I found your glove to- 
 day in Miss Blair's room, where you dropped it. 
 There it is." 
 
 John threw the glove at Fenton's feet, and with 
 folded arms, calmly faced him. Fenton was non- 
 plussed, but his face wore the same sinister smile. 
 The progress of events of the last hour had gone 
 far astray from what he had planned. But, what- 
 ever might happen, Mrs. St. Just and her com- 
 panion would do his bidding. His self-assurance 
 returning, with a dry laugh he addressed Mrs. 
 St. Just: 
 
 " This loyalty is indeed touching ! " he said. 
 
 " This is neither the time nor the place to an- 
 swer you as you deserve," John answered. " We 
 will have our reckoning elsewhere." He turned 
 to the minister and continued : " Sir, I have been 
 rightly called the country lover, for I have loved 
 Miss Blair since we were children together, and 
 I shall continue to love her, until God in his 
 goodness grants me the love of as pure a woman 
 as ever graced the earth. I am waiting until her 
 heart responds; and all the world might know 
 what has passed between us. I thank you, sir, 
 for your trust in her. Believe me, it has not been 
 misplaced." 
 
 He took Hester's hand in his own and together 
 they walked down the aisle and out into the starlit 
 night. They went on in silence: the same
 
 In the Church 21 1 
 
 thoughts and feelings filling the hearts of both. 
 It was not a time for words. Sorrow and morti- 
 fication hung heavy upon them, and neither had 
 a desire to refer to the happenings of the past 
 hour, that had cost them their happiness and 
 peace of mind. To Hester it seemed like a night- 
 mare. Yet, like a beacon light shining over a sea 
 of despair, true as the needle to the pole, was 
 the love of the man beside her, pure, steadfast 
 and unchanging as the march of time. 
 
 As she thought of his unselfish love, a guilty 
 feeling took possession of her. He gave to her 
 his heart, his life, his very soul ; and she gave him 
 in return what? Affectionate regard. Yet were 
 he to go out of her life, with him would go what 
 desire she had to live. Though unconscious of it 
 she loved him ; and as the ivy clings to the oak, 
 so she leaned upon him and lived, his love the 
 one support of her being. Hers was no new-born 
 passion that burned fiercely because of its sudden 
 birth. It was the return for a life devotion that 
 had been hers, and was founded on the trust and 
 confidence that she felt for him. No one knew 
 her better, no one respected her sterling qualities 
 more than John. His trust in her was absolute, 
 and through the past month, when appearances 
 were such as to raise a doubt in the mind of one 
 who judged her by a lower standard, his faith in 
 her was unshaken ; and her simple assurance out- 
 weighed a hundredfold the evidence that pointed 
 to her guilt
 
 212 Hester Blair 
 
 They reached the door of the house where Hes- 
 ter lodged. John took her hand in his own. 
 
 " Hester love," he said, " tell me that you will 
 not take this too much to heart." 
 
 " I should have been prepared for it ; " she re- 
 plied, " I could have expected nothing else after 
 my interview with Fenton. But, John dear," 
 her voice was tremulous with emotion, " you can- 
 not know the feeling of shame, of humiliation! 
 It is not of myself that I think, but of Ethel. It 
 cannot be kept from her for any length of time; 
 and it is the effect on her young life that I most 
 fear." 
 
 They entered the lower hall and John was 
 about to leave her. 
 
 " Promise me," he said, " that if you need as- 
 sistance, even advice, you will send for ma" 
 
 She laughed bitterly. 
 
 " To whom else should I send, John dear? " 
 Then with a sudden impulse she continued hur- 
 riedly : " How can your faith in me withstand 
 what you have seen and heard? Can you still 
 go on trusting me? " She mused a moment in 
 deep thought. " I sometimes think that men are 
 creatures of extremes, they either trust not at 
 all, or their faith is carried to the very point 
 where reason and judgment seem to forsake them, 
 so blind it is, so unswerving, so unyielding in its 
 loyalty. And you still believe in me, John? " 
 
 " Believe in you, little woman ! " He laughed 
 softly and for answer kissed her lightly on the
 
 In the Church 213 
 
 cheek. " Hester," he said, " we will not talk of 
 belief. Think only of the future that is before 
 us." 
 
 " The future? " she laughed sadly. 
 
 " Whatever the future has in store for you," he 
 answered, " you will share with me. You have 
 only to say the word that will make our lives 
 one." 
 
 " Hush, John dear, don't speak of it yet." 
 
 With a tender goodnight he left her and walked 
 rapidly down the street.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 SLACK PLANS A TRIP INTO THE WOODS FOR FENTON 
 
 What I'm now about ter say is good termorrer as terday. 
 
 Ef yer don't want folks ter know what yer about, 
 Listen to 'em without blinkin'; jest keep up a mighty 
 thinkin', 
 
 An' the chances are they'll never find it out. 
 
 "liT ORTON was in commotion. The annual 
 \ spring cleaning was under full sway. Not 
 A. i only were the housewives busy, but along 
 the water front, and in the fishermen's quarters, 
 all was bustle and noisy preparation for the com- 
 ing summer season. Boats were dragged out 
 from winter quarters; there was scraping and 
 scrubbing ; painting and overhauling of riggings ; 
 old sails, and, in some instances masts were being 
 replaced by new and staunch material. Cheerful 
 expectancy pervaded the village, for the fisher- 
 men looked forward to a prosperous season and 
 were preparing to meet it, 
 
 The toilers of the sea exchanged cheerful greet- 
 ings, and good-naturedly badgered each other. 
 If these were resented, the victim of their homely 
 pleasantries would receive a gentle reminder, 
 that next to perpetrating a good joke, was the 
 ability to take one ; and he who would not enter 
 into the humor of their ways, would find his work 
 
 214
 
 Slack Plans a Trip for Fenton 2 1 5 
 
 of the past week undone. Some bright morning, 
 the erring member of their guild would discover 
 his fishing nets in a hopeless tangle of knots, that 
 would require hours or days to unravel ; the mast 
 of his boat would mysteriously disappear; and 
 paint, of colors rare and monstrous, spread with 
 a lavish hand and with pointed disregard for 
 symmetry or artistic effect, would bedeck the 
 craft of the Unwise One, that was at once his 
 pride and means of livelihood. 
 
 These little incidents enlivened the tedium of 
 their lives, and served as events in their mo- 
 notonous existence. 
 
 On a mild spring day in the latter part of April, 
 Slack was at work on the wharf calking his small 
 boat. A double row of empty barrels hid him 
 from view from the land side, and only the click 
 of his chisel could be heard. The wharf was 
 owned by a company of which John's uncle was 
 president, and was, during John's absence, in 
 Slack's charge. 
 
 Captain Edwards pulled up to where Slack 
 was at work, and rested on his oars. 
 
 " What be yer adoin,' Slacky? " 
 
 " I'm a cockin' this yer dory," answered Slack, 
 " don't know whether I kin make her float er not. 
 She's 'bout played out." 
 
 " Heard th' news, heven' yer? " 
 
 " Nothin' out er common," Slack replied. 
 
 " That Mr. Fenton as wer' 'ere las' summer 
 come on th' arternoon train."
 
 2i 6 Hester Blair 
 
 " The devil ! " ejaculated Slack. 
 
 " Huh? " interrogated the captain. 
 
 " O, I wer' thinkin' it wer' early fer summer 
 visitors," Slack replied. 
 
 " Taken Squire Bently's cottage fer th' sum- 
 mer." 
 
 " Hes he? Em ! " Slack manifested but slight 
 interest. 
 
 " When be Hessie comin' ? " queried the cap- 
 tain. 
 
 " Don' know zactly, sometime this week." 
 
 " Be she goin' to stay all summer? " 
 
 " Couldn't say, mebbe." 
 
 " John's goin' ter hev a piece built on ter th' 
 wharf. D'e tell yer? " 
 
 " Heered 'im mention it," Slack replied. He 
 continued working. 
 
 The captain was no sooner gone, than Slack 
 dropped his chisel and his face wore an expres- 
 sion of anything but unconcern. He thought long 
 and deeply, but could arrive at no satisfactory 
 solution of the motives of Fenton's visit. 
 
 The one fact that obtruded itself was that Fen- 
 ton was in Norton. 
 
 Why he came, was beyond the grasp of the 
 fisherman. He was satisfied that no good would 
 follow his coming ; and he could not but associate 
 Fenton's arrival with the return of Hester. His 
 brow was knit in deep meditation, and an omi- 
 nous expression came into his eyes. He had 
 ceased working, and did not hear the sound of ap-
 
 Slack Plans a Trip for Fenton 217 
 
 preaching footsteps until a movement directly in 
 front of where he was sitting arrested his atten- 
 tion. He peered through the opening in the row 
 of barrels. Fenton, smoking a cigarette, stood 
 not twenty feet away, looking out over the har- 
 bor. Slack's first impulse was to spring upon him, 
 and throw him into the water; and while he was 
 seriously considering this point, he heard foot- 
 steps coming down the Wharf, and recognized the 
 quick, swinging gait of John Gary. He looked 
 gloatingly at the stalwart figure of his friend, 
 and waited expectantly for him to speak. Slack 
 knew the feelings that John entertained toward 
 Fenton, and the fisherman grinned as he mentally 
 measured the two men; Fenton, lithe, graceful, 
 tall, slender and effeminate looking : every detail 
 of his dress in faultless good taste ; John, the per- 
 sonification of healthful, robust, manly vigor: 
 broad shouldered, deep chested, well put together, 
 with the carriage of the trained athlete. John 
 had on a suit of old clothes which he always wore 
 when at work about the wharf that were in 
 marked contrast with the tailor made garments 
 of Fenton. 
 
 Slack's heart went out to " his boy." He ex- 
 pected something to happen. He was not disap- 
 pointed. John in a tone devoid of passion ad- 
 dressed Fenton. 
 
 " Mr. Fenton, I recognize your right as that 
 of any man to come to Norton. I ask if your visit 
 here has any connection with Miss Blair? "
 
 2 1 8 Hester Blair 
 
 " As you admit my right to come here, I also 
 concede your right to ask damn impertinent ques- 
 tions; but I exercise my privilege of not answer- 
 ing them." 
 
 " Sir," answered John in an even tone, " I do 
 not wish to quarrel with you; yet I insist on an 
 answer, and I will have it. Do you intend to 
 continue your persecutions of Miss Blair? " 
 
 Fenton was not a coward. He could not but 
 see that John was his superior physically; and 
 on this isolated wharf, if he stopped to consider 
 at all, he must have recognized that he was en- 
 tirely at the mercy of the man before him. His 
 tone was sneeringly patronizing as he answered : 
 
 " Let me see ! Since when were you commis- 
 sioned to meddle in my affairs, and by w r hom? " 
 
 He looked John over contemptuously, a half 
 sneer on his lips. The look was more provoking 
 than the words, and cut John like a whip lash in 
 the face. 
 
 Slack could see every changing expression on 
 the countenances of the two men. The fisher- 
 man's eyes snapped with excitement; his hands 
 clenched firmly; and, with his body thrust for- 
 ward until his forehead touched the barrels, he 
 watched the encounter between them with breath- 
 less interest. Insolent though Fenton was, Slack 
 admired the courage of the man, whom he ad- 
 mitted must be without fear. He saw the blood 
 rush to John's face and marveled at his self-
 
 Slack Plans a Trip for Fenton 2 1 9 
 
 control. John answered without a trace of 
 anger. 
 
 " I do not intend to argue the matter with 
 you," he said, " but believe me, Miss Blair is not 
 without friends." 
 
 " Nor," sneered Fenton, " without admirers. I 
 plead guilty to being one of the number. I re- 
 alize I'm not alone. The late Mr. Featherly out- 
 matched us. Rather provoking considering I was 
 his equal financially." 
 
 At this covert allusion which was not to be 
 misunderstood, John stepped a few paces for- 
 ward. His hands were clenched, his eyes blazed, 
 and his general aspect was threatening. He 
 seemed about to strike Fenton, and Slack made 
 an involuntary movement that set the barrels in 
 motion, which, however, passed unnoticed. 
 
 John controlled himself and his voice was 
 pitched in a low key as he answered : 
 
 " Sir, there is not a man in Norton who would 
 not, if need be, defend Miss Blair. What I say 
 to you is not meant as a threat, but it will be well 
 for you to cease your persecution of her." 
 
 "And leave the field to you, eh?" Fenton re- 
 plied with a laugh. " Young man, when you are 
 older you will realize that it takes money " 
 
 He got no further. With a spring John grasped 
 him by the throat, and shook him until the veins 
 in Fenton's forehead stood out like whipcords. 
 
 Slack, in his excitement, had jumped to his feet,
 
 22O Hester Blair 
 
 and his head appeared above the row of barrels. 
 His eyes danced, and he grinned as he saw Fen- 
 ton's distorted face. 
 
 John flung Fenton violently from him. The 
 head behind the barrels disappeared ; and Fenton, 
 with an effort to regain his self-composure, pulled 
 himself together. 
 
 " Let that be a reminder," said John, " to think 
 twice before you again refer to the lady in ques- 
 tion." 
 
 John turned quickly and walked down the 
 wharf, followed by a sneering laugh. 
 
 " Eh Gad ! " muttered Fenton, " but I rather 
 admire the fellow. He has a grip of steel and 
 Herculean strength. Ha ! but he did pinch ! " He 
 rubbed his throat and neck with his hand, then 
 continued : " Brute force may win battles, but 
 in modern warfare strategy has displaced it. You 
 will find, young man, that an ounce of finesse, 
 is worth a pound of flesh, even of the muscular- 
 developed article. If you had trained your mind 
 as you have your muscle, your progress in love 
 making might meet with quicker return." 
 
 He took a telegram from his pocket and read 
 it. A smile played about the corners of his 
 mouth. He looked in the direction that John 
 had taken and spoke softly : 
 
 " You don't know that the fair Hester is com- 
 ing on to-night's train a day ahead of time. So 
 much for having a confidential agent in New 
 York."
 
 Slack Plans a Trip for Fenton 221 
 
 He looked at the telegram which he held and 
 read aloud : " Left on the Boston express. If 
 through connections will arrive at Norton at 8 :30 
 p. m.," he continued after a pause, " and I am 
 the only one that knows of her coming; and I 
 shall be the first to greet her at the station." 
 
 He lighted a cigarette and walked slowly down 
 the wharf toward the village. 
 
 Slack's fuzzy head again appeared above the 
 top of the barrels. He then seated himself on 
 the edge of the dory, and with a chisel in one 
 hand, and a stick of wood in the other, thought 
 long and deeply. He was busy cutting a notch in 
 the stick and whistled softly, his usual custom 
 when worried. He spoke, puncturing each sen- 
 tence with a notch in the stick. 
 
 " So yer the only one thet knows as Hessie's 
 comin' air yer? He, he, he. When yer air older 
 young man, yer'll hev more of what yer call fine- 
 ness, and read yer telegrams ter yerself. Yer 
 ought to know 'fore this time thet boats hev ears, 
 an' barrels hev ears, an' " he jabbed the chisel 
 into the wood " yer dern fool, ef yer breathe 
 in the State of Maine, someone in Vermont's sure 
 ter hear yer." 
 
 The third notch was well under way. Slack 
 held the stick up and examined his work, shaving 
 a little from one side and smoothing the other, 
 inspecting it meanwhile with a critical eye. 
 " An'," he continued, " yer'll be the only one to 
 meet her at the depot ter-night; well, mebbe yer
 
 222 Hester Blair 
 
 will, an' then agin, mebbe yer won't. The dum 
 thing ain't even," he growled, as he examined 
 the results of his efforts with the chisel. After 
 a close scrutiny of the stick, he continued : " It 
 'pears ter me that / might be considered in this 
 ere 'rangement. First of all, Mr. Fenton, you 
 won't be the only one to meet Hessie at the depot, 
 thet's 'lowing thet yer git there." 
 
 He rounded off another notch, then : " An' it's 
 exceedin' doubtful ef yer reach th' depot at all, 
 thet is, ter-night. An' 'less my calkerlations go 
 th' way uv Jim Kobinson's chickens, when they 
 disappeared 'tween sunset and sunrise, 'cause Jim 
 wouldn't shet em up, an' stop 'em from scratchin' 
 up th' neighbors' gardens " 
 
 He paused in his work and chuckled. " Gosh ! " 
 he addressed the stick he held in his hand, " I 
 eat some of them chickens myself. I guess most 
 everyone hed chicken soup th' next day, an' cold 
 chicken every day for a week: thet is, everyone 
 'cept Jim Robinson ! Well, as I was sayin' Mr. 
 Fenton, yer've got to be given th' same hint as 
 we give Jim, an' thet is, thet th' majority rules in 
 this yer hamlet of ourn." 
 
 He regarded his efforts at whittling with dis- 
 approval, " dern the thing ! " he grumbled, throw- 
 ing the stick into the water, " I can't whittle 
 straight and think too." 
 
 He leaned against the row of barrels and 
 thought long and deeply. The constantly chang- 
 ing expression of his features betrayed his emo-
 
 Slack Plans a Trip for Fenton 223 
 
 tions. There was an expression on his face that 
 those who knew him disliked to see. His mouth 
 was firmly set, and, as he stood with one hand 
 grasping the edge of a barrel, and the other hold- 
 ing the chisel, bareheaded, his form erect and 
 straight as an arrow, and with a look of set de- 
 termination on his face, he looked what he was 
 a picture of sturdy and self-reliant manhood. 
 
 " John an' Penton hev hed trouble in New 
 York. Thet's certain," he mused, " an' John 
 knows he's chasin' o' Hessie." He paused, then 
 in a tone of firm conviction : 
 
 " Ef he knew John Gary es well es I do, he'd 
 rather buck up agin a wild Injun 'n tackle 'im. 
 "Ef he gets arter 'im in downright earnest well, 
 Bud Hennessey kin tell 'im all about it. Bud said 
 he could down any man in the county. He would 
 lick his wife an' he wouldn't listen ter John when 
 John told 'im not ter lick her agin, or he'd 
 hev ter settle. Well, Bud licked her agin thet 
 same night, an' then ho, ho, ho " roared Slack, 
 '" an' then he settled with John. Yer bet he did ! 
 But warn't Bud a sight ! And John didn't let up 
 till Bud promised never ter lift a finger to her 
 agin, an' he never hes. Yes, Mr. Fenton, Bud'll 
 tell yer all about it. Ter start with, yer not goin' 
 ter meet Hessie ter-night ! But I can't think it out 
 here. I'll go outside fer a sail an' th' wind'll 
 blow th' cobwebs out er my brain ; an' fore night, 
 I'll hev a little trip arranged fer yer, Mr. Fen- 
 ton, er my name's not Slack Dorkins."
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 FENTON'S PLANS MISCARRY 
 
 A boat drifts out to open sea, 
 
 The patient helmsman sits astern, 
 Anon, he laughs right merrily, 
 
 Though fires of wrath within him burn. 
 " Though I'm not much on books," quoth he, 
 
 " I do know jest a thing or two; 
 What most consarns us you an' me, 
 
 'S jest how ter 'range a trip fer you." 
 The lapping waves laughed with disdain. 
 
 He paused, and silence reigned again. 
 
 ON the still waters of the bay, a small boat, 
 catrigged, steals softly out of the harbor 
 of Norton. There is scarcely wind enough 
 to fill the sail, that flaps petulantly for want of 
 motive power. The tide has turned and is run- 
 ning out, lending some assistance to the impa- 
 tient Slack, who, sitting astern, answers the 
 gibes and sarcasms of his fisherman friends and 
 rivals. The dullest of them are surprised and 
 inquisitively anxious, regarding the cause of his 
 departure at this unusual hour. If he were not 
 alone, there would have been no cause for com- 
 ment. ; but at this time of day and without what 
 they termed a " freight," they were quick to 
 come to the conclusion that something unusual 
 was taking place or had Slack one of his spells? 
 
 224
 
 Fenton's Plans Miscarry 225 
 
 He passed within hailing distance of Seth 
 Binks' boat. The industrious Binks ceased 
 scrubbing the deck of his schooner to hail him. 
 
 " Where in thunder be yer goin' at this time 
 er day?" 
 
 " Nowhere in 'ticular," drawled Slack, " jest 
 takin' a sail." 
 
 " Yer ain't in the habit er goin' outside to take 
 a sail alone ! What's struck yer? " 
 
 " O nothin' much, jest er killin' time." 
 
 " D'yer know Mr. Fenton's here fer th' sum- 
 mer? " 
 
 " Is he? " was the noncommittal reply. 
 
 " Yes, thet's his yacht yonder. She's anchored 
 near Bill Blake's schooner. See her? " 
 
 " Yes, I see 'er." 
 
 " Mr. Fenton's goin' outside with 'er ter-mor- 
 rer." 
 
 " How'd you know? " 
 
 " Skipper tole me." 
 
 " Mebbe he be," was Slack's retort in an under- 
 tone. His caution was, however, unnecessary : 
 the boats were out of speaking distance. 
 
 It was too confined in the bay, and Slack 
 steered for the open water. As he passed the 
 light-house point, the boat answered to the fresh 
 breeze outside, the cool air tossed his hair into 
 wild disorder, cleared the fog from his brain, and 
 the happenings of the past few hours began to 
 arrange themselves with systematic clearness. 
 He struck the knuckles of his bony hand against
 
 226 Hester Blair 
 
 his forehead to get his ideas into working trim. 
 The water lapping the sides of the boat soothed 
 him, and his habitual expression of good-nature 
 returned. Now and then a wave of larger dimen- 
 sions would splash complainingly against the 
 boat, interrupting his thoughts for the moment; 
 then his smile would broaden to a grin, as some 
 new aspect of the situation presented itself. He 
 was a mile or more from the nearest land. The 
 ocean swell lifted the little craft buoyantly on its 
 crest, toyed with it, and playfully passed it down 
 to the miniature green-blue vale, there to meet 
 and surmount the next oncoming wave. 
 
 " Now, Mr. Fenton," spoke Slack in a positive 
 tone, " this much is settled : yer've met John in 
 New York, an' yer've ben up ter some diveltry. 
 That's as plain as the wart on Capt. Edwards' 
 nose. An' yer come here again to see Hessie, an' 
 thet's as clear clear as light through a jellyfish. 
 Yer come with yer fine yacht, an' by the looks of 
 er she do lay over anything on this yer coast. 
 Well, everything's O. K. till yer get here. Then 
 what? Why, yer walks down ter the wharf big 
 es life, an' who's the fust yer run inter? Why 
 John, o'course. Then the fun commences. John 
 sez, l Mr. Fenton, I don't care whether yer come 
 to Norton or whether yer don't come to Norton ; 
 yer kin do as yer dern please about it,' er words 
 to thet effect. 'But ef yer come down 'ere, yer 
 ter let Hessie 'lone.' Thet's what he meant, 
 though mebbe he didn't say it in them same
 
 Fenton's Plans Miscarry 227 
 
 words. Fenton says something about answer- 
 ing damn impertinent questions, then John sez, 
 ' remember what I tell yer : Hessie's got all the 
 friends she wants/ and thet's where John hed it 
 right. Then the dern skunk said somethin' 'bout 
 money, an' thet's where John grabbed 'im by th' 
 throat an' shook the dern life out o' 'im. Gosh ! 
 don' believe I could er done it better m'self. 
 Then he jest fired Fenton agin the barrels, same's 
 he were a bundle er rags, and walks off as though 
 'e wer* King o' th' Cannibal Islands, an' first 
 cousin ter the Governor. Gum! I jest wished 
 John hed passed him over ter me. I heven't hed 
 any practice to speak of since I parted with the 
 feller on the Bowery as knowed me * Down 
 East,' an' wanted ter show me the sights." 
 
 " Now, thet dern fool shud hev knowed I sized 
 'im the minute I set eyes on 'im. He wanted ter 
 show me th' sights, an' I let 'im do th' showin'; 
 but when he wanted ter drink, he drank alone. 
 Thet was one er th' nights thet I wer' drinkin' 
 nothin'. An' then ho, ho, ho he got er little 
 fresh, an' I took 'im in hand jest as though 
 he'd never knowed me * Down East.' But he 
 put up a good fight, thet I'll allow; an' I was 
 a dustin' an alley way with 'im, when a policeman 
 came along an' grabbed us both. He, he, he 
 wan' he a sight! Huh! yer can't kill thet kind. 
 But ef Millie ever finds it out! " He shuddered. 
 Then with a rueful nod of his head : " It'll be 
 all up with me, an' no mistake on thet point.
 
 228 Hester Blair 
 
 Here I am " he addressed a sea gull that sailed 
 majestically by " rambling 'way like an ole 
 woman, an' with what hes no more to do with 
 what I come out here fer, than nothin' 'tall. Let's 
 see! Where wer 7 yer Slacky? O yes! Then Mr. 
 Fenton lights a cigarette and says, he'd be 
 damned ef he didn't admire John. An' thefs 
 where I 'greed with Fenton. Now the whole thing 
 is here in a nutshell : John sez he don't want yer 
 'round botherin' Hessie; an' what John sez goes 
 in this yer village, an' here abouts. Mr. Fenton, 
 yer'ye got ter learn, an' we've got our own way of 
 teachin' yer ; an' th' sooner yer take yer medsin 
 the better." 
 
 An expression, beatific in its sublime confi- 
 dence, overspread the features of the fisherman. 
 With philosophical wisdom he spoke : " Slack, in 
 the language of the books, yer've 'riv' at a con- 
 clusion." 
 
 Long he paused. His scheme, which was re- 
 volving in his brain, was mirrored in his eyes. 
 The constantly changing expression of his face 
 told the difficulties he was mentally encounter- 
 ing. Then his features would relax into a broad 
 grin, and an audible chuckle break the stillness. 
 His voice again interrupted the splash of the 
 water. 
 
 " Yer've got ter learn a lesson, Mr. Fenton, 
 an' one thet you'll remember. Yer can't come 
 down here with yer New York way of doing 
 things, 'specially when it's a cussed mean way.
 
 Fenton's Plans Miscarry 229 
 
 Yer not goin' ter meet Hessie ter-night. Thet's 
 settled. An' I think we'll give yer a little trip 
 up country or down th' coast. Yer ken take yer 
 choice of goin' twenty miles inter th' woods 'n 
 stoppin' er day or two at Col. Demmock's hunt- 
 in' camp, or takin' a trip in Bill Blake's 
 schooner. Ef yer go ter the camp, yer'll hev ter 
 ride twenty miles over a mighty rough road ter- 
 night, an' th' feed you'll get there ain't fattenin'. 
 Ef yer go in Bill's schooner, yer'll hev a good 
 'nough cabin, an' be set down on the coast when 
 yer've repented in a Christian-like fashion, an' 
 hed time ter see th' folly ef yer ways. Now ter 
 save yer th' trouble of choosin', I'll do it for yer. 
 Here comes a whitecap. Ef th' boat ships any 
 water ter the camp yer go; ef she don't, yer'll 
 go sailin' with Bill Blake, an' not in yer own 
 yacht, though I'll 'low she'd be more on com- 
 fort ; an' besides, Bill's got the divil's own tem- 
 per. Steady with the rudder Slacky, we'll do 
 the fair thing." 
 
 On came the whitecap. The boat met it with 
 a biff of the prow. It mounted and rode the 
 crest with swan-like ease, and the spray flew into 
 the face of the silent helmsman. 
 
 " Putty close," he muttered, " but I guess Mr. 
 Fenton yer'll go to the camp. By gum! thet's 
 settled. I feel better a'ready. Now I've decided 
 what ter do, we'll see what's the best way ter do 
 it. Ther'll be time 'nough ter figure on where 
 the thing'll land me. Fust, we've got ter hev a
 
 230 Hester Blair 
 
 team. Penton sez he's goin' ter the 8 : 30 train 
 ter meet Hessie. He, he, he," chuckled the re- 
 sourceful Slack, " Mebbe he be. The chances are 
 he'll go 'lone. Ef there's no one with him, it's as 
 clear sailin' as runnin' this yer boat. Ef he 
 ben't alone well, I reckon I kin git all the help I 
 need." 
 
 He mused awhile and a serious expression 
 overspread his features. Another aspect of the 
 undertaking had presented itself. 
 
 " Now," he continued, " they don't kidnap a 
 man in this yer State 'thout a fuss bein' made. 
 Wall, ef it gets too hot, I'll go ter Jedge Bixby 
 and make a clean breast on't. / kin remember 
 when the Jedge didn't hev a cent; when Hes- 
 sie's father picked him up. He wer' poorer than 
 I ever wer'. Mr. Blair sent him ter school ; tuck 
 him inter his office ter study th' law; made a 
 man of him, an' a jedge ef 'im. I don't think 
 Jedge Bixby'd be very hard on anyone tryin' 
 ter save the daughter of Henry Blair from a dum 
 rascal. Anyhow, Slack Dorkins, we'll take the 
 chances. We'd do more'n thet for John an' th' 
 gals, more'n thet." 
 
 Bringing the boat up to the wind, the sail 
 filled, and the slender mast bent to the work. He 
 hummed snatches of songs, that had often made 
 the nets haul easier, and the long stretches of 
 dreary weather and still drearier sea, seem 
 brighter and more companionable. 
 
 As he entered the harbor on his return he was
 
 Fenton's Plans Miscarry 231 
 
 met with a storm of jeering remarks and good- 
 natured raillery. 
 
 " Oh, ho, some folks must hev it bad when 
 they'd go sailin' 'lone Millie ain't refused yer 
 agin, hes she he's ben outside ter fix the weddin' 
 day ! " 
 
 No answer from the boat being steered by a 
 master-hand through the tangle of small craft. 
 Slack ran up alongside Bill Blake's schooner 
 rigged yacht and made fast. 
 
 " Ho, Bill ! " he bellowed, " come up on deck, 
 I want ter see yer." 
 
 Bill heard the voice booming along the com- 
 panion way, and answered with an alacrity un- 
 common among fishermen. It was enough for 
 Slack to call, for Bill to respond without ques- 
 tion ; and he looked the gratitude and admiration 
 that he was forbidden to utter. Bill had not for- 
 gotten : which went to prove that he was un- 
 mindful of the ways of the world. 
 
 " How do, Slacky, I saw yer go out. Won't 
 yer come aboard? Got a little old stuff down in 
 the cabin, some I got from Bost'n." 
 
 " No thank yer, can't stop. Jump inter my 
 boat. I've got somethin' to say ter yer." 
 
 Bill lowered himself into the boat. The heads 
 of the two men were close together and only 
 scraps of their conversation were audible. 
 
 " Yes, I'll do it," said Bill in a mysterious tone. 
 " Double team ; that drygoods wagon of Simp- 
 son's would be a good one. Seth'll give me all
 
 232 Hester Blair 
 
 the help I want, 'n you keep out er th' way. Yes, 
 you tend to Hessie; I'll take care of Mr. Fen ton 
 they'll never suspect me O'course ther's some 
 risk O, never min' me, I'll take keer o' myself 
 You keep out er sight. You know you can count 
 on me. I'll take keer ev 'im. He kin spend the 
 night in the camp, an' in the morning he kin walk 
 eight miles ter the nearest house. Dern 'im, it'll 
 be good exercise fer 'im. Good-by Slacky." 
 
 A push from the black hull of the boat, a turn 
 of the rudder, and the boat glided to her anchor- 
 age. Slack quietly entered the cabin of his 
 schooner, and the fumes of an old black pipe 
 filled the little craft, also it filled the heart of 
 the silent smoker with wondrous content. 
 
 Bill Blake was quietly busy. Mysterious prep- 
 arations were being made by him, but there was 
 no noise, bustle or excitement to be noticed in his 
 appearance or movements. 
 
 If one were interested, he might have dis- 
 covered in an old barn, half way between the 
 village and the railway station, a pair of horses 
 hitched to an old fashioned close vehicle, that 
 was formerly the property of a drygoods peddler. 
 
 Some hours before the north bound train was 
 due, Bill and Portuguese Joe were seated in the 
 barn, and through the partly closed door scrutin- 
 ized each passerby. They were a goodly pair, 
 muscular and determined. To Bill Blake, death
 
 Fenton's Plans Miscarry 233 
 
 would be preferable to failure. He naively as- 
 serted : " Thet Slacky bed a mortgage on his 
 life; tbe int'rest was long overdue, an' he'd like 
 ter pay off some er the principal." 
 
 Patiently they waited. The dusk of evening 
 was merging into night. A whip-o-will sent out 
 a note of warning; a night owl hooted irrele- 
 vantly; and a soft breeze set the tall pines that 
 bordered each side of the road to sobbing fitfully. 
 
 Fenton walked leisurely and unheedingly on 
 his way to the station. The barn door squeaked 
 on its rusty hinges, and the team was slowly 
 driven after the solitary pedestrian. 
 
 At a turn in the road where the branches of 
 the trees met, the horses came to an abrupt halt, 
 and the two men sprang to the ground. A short, 
 sharp, decisive struggle followed, and Fenton lay 
 on his back in the wagon, bound hand and foot. 
 A towel was tied over his face, and with stifled 
 oaths and imprecations from their victim, the 
 men whipped up their horses and, with madden- 
 ing speed, turned sharply into the seldom fre- 
 quented road, and were lost in the wooded waste. 
 
 The north bound train rumbled into Norton 
 thirty minutes late. 
 
 Hester alighted and looked about her for the 
 driver of the public carriage. Almost immedi- 
 ately, Slack, cap in hand, making his best cour- 
 tesy, stood before her.
 
 234 Hester Blair 
 
 " Why, Miss Hessie, this be a surprise. Hed 
 no idea yer wer' coinin' ter-night. Lucky I came 
 down. My rig's here. I'll take yer home." 
 
 Hester greeted him warmly. 
 
 " Thank you, Slack, I'm so glad you are here. 
 It is, indeed, fortunate that you came." 
 
 Her smile of thanks repaid her listener a 
 thousand-fold for the risk he was running in her 
 behalf ; and his heart thumped with joy at seeing 
 her again. He took her small hand-grip and 
 led the way to " his rig." He muttered : " Gosh ! 
 I'm learnin' ter lie 'most as good as Jed Dudley." 
 Then aloud : " Quite an accident my bein' here, 
 Miss Hessie, quite 'n accident. Hedn' any ide' 
 yer wer' comin' 'fore ter-morrer." 
 
 They entered the carriage and drove rapidly 
 away, and the stars blinked down their forgive- 
 ness and benediction on the erring Slack.
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 HESTER'S HOMECOMING 
 
 "The same old home, the same old friends and yet 
 Would that I could forget! " 
 
 AS they sped homeward, Slack kept up a con- 
 stant chatter. The astute fisherman di- 
 vined what was passing in his companion's 
 mind. He felt that her homecoming brought 
 vividly before her the trouble she had passed 
 through, in sad contrast with the happy, peace- 
 ful hours of girlhood. He further surmised that, 
 with her regret, there was mingled a dread of 
 meeting the prying, inquisitive friends of former 
 years. He knew that her return would be a topic 
 of gossip in the village for days to come, and 
 his mouth was firmly set as he thought of the 
 vicious speculation that her homecoming would 
 occasion. 
 
 He did not, however, give her time to dwell 
 on the false position in which she placed herself, 
 and rattled on, from the latest village news, to 
 Millie's joy at seeing her again. 
 
 Hester understood, and smiled affectionately 
 at his almost childlike attempt to appear natural 
 and unconcerned. Her heart went out to him, 
 and tears glistened in her eyes as she thought 
 of his loyalty and perfect trust in her. 
 
 235
 
 236 Hester Blair 
 
 Millie met them at the door and folded Hester 
 in her arms, while the tears streamed down her 
 withered cheeks. She did not attempt to speak, 
 she could not; but led Hester into the well- 
 lighted dining room and, holding her close, 
 looked at her through her tears. 
 
 " Yer ain't changed much, Hessie dear," she 
 said when she could control her voice, " but yer 
 be a little thin." 
 
 She scanned Hester's features closely, and the 
 reassuring smile she received in return did not 
 wholly suffice to allay her fears. " Are you 
 quite well, Hessie dear? " she asked. 
 
 " Quite," answered Hester, " only I need a 
 little rest after the long journey. Now tell me, 
 Millie dear, how you have been? " 
 
 " O, I were so lonesome," answered the warm 
 hearted spinster, and the tears gushed forth 
 again as evidence of the truth of her assertion. 
 Recovering her composure, the sight of the well- 
 filled table reminded her of Hester's needs. 
 " Hessie, yer be hungry, ben't yer, dear? " 
 
 Hester well knew that, to gladen Millie's heart, 
 she must eat, which she accordingly did, with a 
 relish. This was the highest compliment she 
 could pay to the tender hearted spinster, who 
 hung over her and helped her to the little deli- 
 cacies that she had prepared. With gentle, lov- 
 ing touches Millie arranged the collar of Hester's 
 dress, replaced a lock of hair that had become 
 loosened, patting her head, meanwhile, with
 
 Hester's Homecoming 237 
 
 nervous little touches, which brought back her 
 motherly smile ; and before the meal was finished 
 their former peaceful existence had been re- 
 sumed, where it had been interrupted by Hester's 
 departure for New York. 
 
 Millie's face beamed with the joy that filled 
 her, and a sense of peace filled Hester's heart 
 with a warmth, new and strange. For the first 
 time in months a feeling of security, that the 
 atmosphere of her old home awakened, stole over 
 her ; and the feeling of dread of her homecoming 
 that had filled her heart, gave place to a delicious 
 sensation of ease and peaceful content. 
 
 Millie seated herself at the table with her eyes 
 fixed on the beautiful face before her. Hester's 
 cheeks were diffused with a soft color, and her 
 eyes shone with a brilliancy which reflected her 
 happiness. Her beauty had never attracted Mil- 
 lie as it did now. The light from a shaded lamp 
 threw a soft, mellow glow upon Hester's features ; 
 and the gloating eyes of the spinster took in every 
 line of the exquisitely moulded face before her. 
 Her eyes told what her tongue could not say, 
 and she nodded her head with conscious satis- 
 faction not unmixed with pride. 
 
 " Hessie," she said, " yer don't know how glad 
 I am ter hev yer at hum agin." 
 
 " Yes I do, Millie dear," laughed Hester, " for 
 I judge your feelings by my own delight at being 
 here." 
 
 " An' I'm so glad yer've come, an' ken tell every-
 
 238 Hester Blair 
 
 one tiow well yerVe done. Slack's only tole half 
 ef it where be the pesky critter? " she ex- 
 claimed, looking around the room, " ef he ain't 
 gone agin! Do you believe it, Hessie dear, I 
 can't keep track ef that man, more'n I can keep 
 track o' the wind on a March day. Since he got 
 hum from New York I kin do nothin' with 'im at 
 all. It wer' days arter he got back afore I could 
 wring anything out er him 'cept : ( Hessie be a 
 doin' fust rate, an' she's well,' same's I didn't 
 know thet afore he went therV' 
 
 Hester smiled encouragingly. Millie wiped her 
 spectacles on the corner of her apron and con- 
 tinued : 
 
 " He sez thet every night he wer' in New York, 
 he tended the Salvation Army meetings." Millie 
 paused expectantly. That she was not wholly 
 convinced that such was a fact, was apparent. 
 Hester ventured nothing to the contrary, but the 
 suspicion of a smile played about the corners 
 of her mouth. Before it could be noticed by her 
 companion, it was followed by an expression of 
 calm interest. Millie continued : 
 
 " Yer don't know how I fretted 'bout 'im when 
 he wer' away. Yer know, Hessie dear, he's no 
 more fit ter take keer o' himself, than a three- 
 year-old child.' ? 
 
 This was too much for Hester's self-control, 
 and she laughed softly as she thought of Slack's 
 encounter with the coachman ; and various little
 
 Hester's Homecoming 239 
 
 tales of his exploits that Featherly never tired of 
 reciting. 
 
 " I don't wonder yer laugh," said Millie in a 
 resigned tone, " fer yer know as well as I do thet 
 he's not fit ter go ter thet awful city, leastwise, 
 'thout someone ter look out fer 'im." 
 
 Hester nodded, and Millie continued : 
 
 " I ast 'im ef he went inside o' one o' them 
 horrid theatres, an' he said, ' Millie, yer know I 
 wouldn't tell yer a lie,' an' I know he wouldn't," 
 asserted Millie with a positive shake of her head, 
 " or 'twould be the last one he'd ever tell me. 
 Well, when I ast 'im ef he'd been ter one o' them 
 wicked places, he jest looked at me, an' sez, ' Mil- 
 lie, I'd as soon go ter one o' them theatres as ter 
 fight,' an' I know he never fit anyone in his life. 
 He said thet Mr. Featherly treated 'im real kind, 
 an' the servants wer' jest like hum people. Why 
 he said he felt real sorry at partin' from the 
 coachman, an' ef he knowed where ter send 'im 
 word, he'd write 'im ter come ter Norton ter stay 
 a spell." 
 
 At that moment the subject of Millie's remarks 
 entered the room. 
 
 Hester smiled as she looked at the muscular, 
 shambling form of the fisherman. Millie's scorn- 
 ful glance was met with one of calm concern. 
 
 " Now where've yer bin? " asked Millie testily. 
 
 " Puttin' up th' hoss," Slack quietly answered. 
 
 Take yer all this time? "
 
 240 Hester Blair 
 
 " No," came the laconic reply. 
 
 " What yer ben doin'? " 
 
 A knock at the door, followed by John's en 
 trance, interrupted Slack's answer. Hester 
 greeted John warmly. 
 
 " We didn't expect you until to-morrow," he 
 said. 
 
 " It was my intention to come to-morrow, but 
 I was anxious to get home; besides there was 
 no necessity for remaining longer in New York. 
 
 " If I had known of your coming, I would 
 have been at the station to meet you." 
 
 " Slack was there." 
 
 " Yes, so he told me," answered John. 
 
 " So thet's where yer've bin sense yer got back 
 from th' depot," said Millie in a mollified tone. 
 
 " How did it happen that you went to the 
 station, Slack? " asked John. 
 
 " Gosh ! I don' know," answered Slack, " jest 
 ter kill time, I reckon. Never wer' so surprised 
 as when I see Hessie get off the train." 
 
 The talk drifted to village affairs. Both men 
 refrained from mentioning Fenton's name. John 
 did not wish to cause Hester the annoyance that 
 the knowledge of Fenton's arrival would oc- 
 casion; and Slack, for reasons of his own, ap- 
 peared to be wholly unconscious of it. Regarding 
 what had become of Fenton, the wily fisherman 
 had no intention of taking John into his confi- 
 dence. John would be the first to be suspected 
 by Fenton, and Slack was determined that John
 
 Hester's Homecoming 241 
 
 should know nothing of the affair, and be able 
 to face Fenton's accusation with a clear con- 
 science. 
 
 Hester and John went into the adjoining room, 
 and sitting beside the fire, that burned cheerily 
 in the open grate, conversed in low tones. They 
 were not entirely at ease in the presence of Mil- 
 lie and Slack, and their attempt to appear 
 natural, was not wholly successful. The fisher- 
 man observed their embarrassment, but by 
 neither word nor action did he betray that he 
 saw it. He went about the house in his accus- 
 tomed way, devoting his time to Millie, and re- 
 ceiving her rebuffs in his usual placid, good- 
 natured manner. 
 
 Hester and John kept up a desultory attempt 
 at conversation. They avoided all reference to 
 New York; each feeling a gloomy repugnance to 
 call up memories that brought vividly before 
 them what they had gone through. For the same 
 reason, John refrained from referring to the 
 future, which offered to Hester humiliation that 
 she would feel even more keenly than that to 
 which she had already been subjected. He rea- 
 lized that she must meet the townspeople daily. 
 These he divided into two classes; one class 
 that would openly slight her, the other through 
 mistaken zeal force upon her an oppressive, 
 patronizing friendliness that would be prompted 
 by pity. The latter would, he well knew, cause 
 Hester the most annoyance. She could hold her-
 
 242 Hester Blair 
 
 self aloof from those who would make no at- 
 tempt to disguise their feelings toward her rher 
 pride would sustain her; but she would be de- 
 fenceless when confronted with a pity that im- 
 plied guilt. 
 
 There are troubles that friends or lovers can- 
 not speak of freely, that seem beyond mending, 
 and are hopeless; and they both felt that words 
 would only add to their discomfiture, and were 
 best left unsaid. 
 
 It was John's desire that she should lose no 
 time in being seen in the village. He argued 
 and with reason that the sooner the ordeal was 
 over, the better. Though but a few hours since 
 Fenton's arrival, John feared that he had al- 
 ready made known the events that had taken 
 place the night of Featherly's death. He had 
 heard whispered comments in the village that 
 left no doubt in his mind that Fenton's purpose 
 in coming to Norton was to continue his perse- 
 cution of Hester, and ruin her in the eyes of the 
 townspeople. After a desultory attempt at con- 
 versation, John asked : 
 
 " You will go to church to-morrow, Hester? " 
 
 " I had quite forgotten the day of the week/' 
 she answered. " I would dearly love to go, but 
 I dread it" 
 
 " Nonsense," he replied, " I shall call for you 
 at ten o'clock. Of course Millie and Slack will 
 go. We will go together." 
 
 Hester smiled. She understood his purpose,
 
 Hester's Homecoming 243 
 
 but did not reply. It was as well, she thought, 
 to have it over. It was perhaps better that she 
 should accustom herself to the changed relations 
 between the townspeople and herself. Surely 
 the friends that had known her from childhood, 
 that had known her father, would not believe ill 
 of her; and the consciousness that she was in- 
 nocent of wrong-doing, gave her new courage. 
 With an attempt at cheerfulness she said : 
 
 " John dear, I blame myself for giving way in 
 this almost childish manner, and taking such a 
 gloomy view of life, when there is so much suffer- 
 ing in the world actual, physical suffering. One 
 cannot change the conditions, but each of us can 
 do his share to relieve and better them. We 
 magnify our own trouble a thousand-fold, and 
 come to believe that ours is the greatest burden 
 to bear. I never realized until the last few 
 months that Heaven had given me much to be 
 thankful for the love of friends that is a world 
 of happiness in itself." 
 
 John's big, brown hand patted hers lovingly. 
 He did not speak; and the fire shot forth little 
 tongues of flame, that danced merrily to the 
 music of crackling logs, sending a riotous flood 
 of shadows over the walls and ceiling. Millie's 
 voice came through the open door. 
 
 " Yer needn't tell me," she was saying, "what 
 yer got ter do ter-morrer; yer goin' ter church. 
 The work'll wait. Enyone's religious as you wer> 
 in New York, wants ter practise it ter hum."
 
 244 Hester Blair 
 
 " Yes, that's so," Slack replied dubiously, " but 
 yer see, I lived up to it ther' so well, I kinder 
 thought 'twould do fer th' hull year. Ther's such 
 a thing, Millie, es bein' too religious. Now 
 Deacon Prouty sez " 
 
 " No matter what Deacon Prouty sez," came 
 the uncomforting reply. " Yer'll go ter church 
 ter-morrer mornin'." As the decision admitted 
 of no appeal, silence followed. 
 
 " Dear Millie ! " Hester's voice was tenderly 
 soft. After a pause she smiled and continued: 
 " What would she say to some of Slack's doings 
 in New York? " 
 
 " She will never know from him," John said. 
 
 " Nor from me," Hester rejoined. 
 
 A silence followed, broken by Hester. 
 
 " Mrs. Pendleton discovered that I was to re- 
 turn home and came to see me. She is coming 
 here for the summer, and earlier than usual. 
 She's a dear soul, and I shall be glad to have her 
 with me." 
 
 " And you will have the summer boarders as 
 usual?" 
 
 " Yes, I must on Ethel's account." 
 
 John walked about the room impatiently. 
 
 " Ah me ! " he exclaimed, " and I have been 
 offered the position of manager by the Dean Ship 
 Company, with double my present salary, to 
 represent the company in South America. Things 
 come your way with indecent haste, when you 
 are apathetic or don't care for them. In this life
 
 Hester's Homecoming 245 
 
 we are forever reaching for the unattainable, 
 overlooking the opportunities under our very 
 nose, or, what is still worse, trampling them 
 under foot. We are a nation of malcontents, 
 whose goal is a mirage from which we are sepa- 
 rated by seas of disappointment and despair." 
 
 " And you will accept the position? " Hester's 
 voice was tremulous. 
 
 " I can't say," he answered, " my uncle is urg- 
 ing me to accept it. It is a flattering offer." 
 
 John's devotion had never affected her as it 
 did now; nor had it been brought home to her 
 what her life would be if he were to go out of it. 
 Until the possibility that he might go presented 
 itself, she had never considered what that going 
 might mean. And now the fear filled her with 
 sickening dread. Yet was it not better so? What 
 hope could she give him? Young as she was, in- 
 experienced though she might seem, she knew the 
 world. She had learned at a rapid rate, and at 
 an almost fatal cost, that it is not to be trifled 
 with. It has its unwritten laws, which once 
 transgressed, allows neither time nor tears to 
 soften the punishment it imposes. It exacts its 
 pound of flesh, and jealousy scans the weight to 
 see that it is not cheated out of its just due. Its 
 scourging wrath may slumber, but the ghost of 
 the offence stalks abroad and confronts the of- 
 fender who, with a sense of security, is emerging 
 from dread and fear and dares to raise his head. 
 
 Hester realized that the name that she had
 
 246 Hester Blair 
 
 brought back to her old home had been, in the 
 eyes of this same exacting world, soiled. This 
 same world did not demand the why or the where- 
 fore; it might have been smirched with or with- 
 out reason; in truth or in seeming. With these 
 considerations it did not concern itself; nor was 
 it inclined to tax its reasoning powers in arriv- 
 ing at its own sweet, infallible verdict. It be- 
 lieved what it had been told, and repeated this 
 same, sotto voce, taking care that it lost noth- 
 ing in the telling.
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 MILLIE SPEAKS HER MIND 
 
 In strident tones they sing 1 His praise, 
 
 With heads held high in air; 
 Twere better if their hearts they'd raise, 
 
 In meek and voiceless prayer. 
 
 THE calm of the New England Sunday morn- 
 ing was broken only by the clanging of 
 the village church bell ; and the land in its 
 spring dress looked its loveliest. Dandelion blos- 
 soms nodded their heads complacently, and the 
 few hardy flowers in front of the Blair home that, 
 with admirable persistence if not commendable 
 judgment, dared to brave the chill wind, opened 
 their petals in welcome to the warmth that the 
 sun grudgingly bestowed. Even the sea was on 
 its good behavior; and not even a ripple dis- 
 turbed its surface or interrupted the peace that 
 was abroad. 
 
 John Gary had been invited to breakfast, and 
 Millie was fretting herself into a state of irri- 
 tability over her muffins. They would rise, and 
 then she was as sure that they wouldn't rise. 
 The exact state and life of the baking powder 
 worried her, until she could not express herself 
 in becoming terms. She had bought it only the 
 day previous, " but," she moaned, " goodness 
 
 247
 
 248 Hester Blair 
 
 knows how long it had stood in Deacon Prouty's 
 store." She thought the cover was loose when 
 she took it off; and now she was sure that the 
 powder was damp. In spite of her fears and 
 lamentations the muffins continued to rise most 
 beautifully. But peace was to be denied her. 
 What if they should fall? She knew the fire 
 wasn't hot enough. But the muffins cooked into 
 a creamy brown, and demanded almost audibly, 
 to be eaten at once. " Where was John? Had 
 that Slack gone off just as breakfast was ready? " 
 Not even Hester could enlighten her, and in a 
 shrill voice she called from the porch " Break- 
 fast!" 
 
 The two men were in the rear of the house and 
 did not hear the call. John was saying: 
 
 " and is that his boat? " 
 
 " Yes," answered Slack, shading his eyes with 
 one hand and looking out over the water, " thet 
 one layin' long side Bill Blake's schooner." 
 
 His gaze turned seaward and he muttered mus- 
 ingly, " Wonder what thet steamer be? She's 
 kitin' right 'long." 
 
 John's interest in the passing steamer was not 
 pronounced. 
 
 " Did you say you saw Fen ton?" 
 
 " Yes, I seed 'im." Slack's eyes still followed 
 the line of smoke on the horizon. 
 
 " Where? " John demanded. 
 
 " O, 'round th' wharf som'ere." 
 
 " What was he doin'? "
 
 Millie Speaks Her Mind 249 
 
 " Wall, th' last I seed uv 'im he wer' smokin* 
 a cig'rette, an' mutterin' ter hisself soraethin' 
 'bout 'inirin' someone er other." With deep 
 concern he continued : " Gum ! I'd like ter know 
 where thet ther' steamer's bound. Com' ter 
 think on't, I heered someone say thet Fenton 
 warn't goin' ter be in town ter day." 
 
 A sigh of relief escaped John. He kicked a 
 stone, and it went bounding down the incline 
 into the water, then looked again into the face 
 of his companion. Slack, however, seemed un- 
 conscious of John's presence, so absorbed was he 
 in the movements of the steamer. 
 
 " Where did you hear that Fenton wasn't to 
 be in town? " 
 
 " I was in my boat," came the guileless answer. 
 
 " When was this? " 
 
 " Yest'day arternoon." 
 
 " Were you alone? " 
 
 " Yep, on'y when I wer' talkin' ter Bill Blake." 
 
 " Where were you at the time you heard of 
 Fenton being away? " 
 
 " I wer' a lyin' 'long side of Bill's schooner, a 
 talkin' ter Bill. Don't know how I came ter 
 'member it. Thet steamer must be makin' 'bout 
 ten knots." 
 
 John remained silent for a full minute. How 
 much Slack knew or suspected of Fenton's mo- 
 tives* he could only surmise. But he knew his 
 man : he had tried him and he trusted him ; and 
 determined to take him in a measure into his
 
 250 Hester Blair 
 
 confidence. He laid his hand on hie companion's 
 shoulder : 
 
 " Slack," he said, " I have a favor to ask of 
 you." 
 
 " Well, sail in. What be it? " 
 
 " I want you to find out, if you can without ex- 
 citing suspicion, where Fenton has gone, and 
 when he will return." 
 
 Greater men than Slack have been taken off 
 their guard. Long afterwards he reproached him- 
 self for his quick tongue. He blurted out: 
 
 " I know where he is. He's as safe as a lobster 
 caught in one o' them ther' traps out in th' bay." 
 
 It hardly needed the surprised look that John 
 flashed at him to tell him he had blundered. But 
 the resourceful Slack was quick to recover him- 
 self. A look of guile, stupendous in its effron- 
 tery, overspread his features. The innocence of 
 childhood shone from the eyes that sought those 
 of his companion. 
 
 " Thet is," Slack drawled, " I guess we could 
 find him ef yer wanted ter see 'im bad." He 
 looked John steadily in the eyes and waited for 
 an answer. 
 
 " I supposed from what you said, that you 
 knew where Fenton was." 
 
 " Me? How'd I know? Yer see, I'm 'lone so 
 much, I git in th' habit er talkin' ter myself. 
 Why, I talk ter th' fishes an' th' sea gulls. Yer 
 don't want ter take any notice er me ; but ef yer
 
 Millie Speaks Her Mind 251 
 
 tryin' ter find out where Fenton is, I ken 'quire 
 er Bill Blake. PVaps he'll know." 
 
 Millie's voice interrupted further conversa- 
 tion, and the two men entered the house with the 
 consciousness burning within them of having 
 spoiled the muffins. They vowed they would do 
 penance by devouring them to the last one, which 
 they did, without any perceptible effort, and with 
 a keen relish; and Millie unbent sufficiently to 
 smile her forgiveness. 
 
 Slack had donned his best suit, Millie was ar- 
 rayed in a black satin gown, and, with Hester 
 and John, they walked through the village to 
 the church. 
 
 John had timed their departure so that they 
 might arrive before the majority of the congre- 
 gation. He had hoped to save Hester from what 
 he most feared, the curious gaze, and the un- 
 guarded or vicious comments of the villagers. 
 Of those whom they met on their way to church, 
 some passed with a nod of the head, others 
 stopped and shook Hester by the hand, express- 
 ing pleasure at her return. These had been her 
 father's friends, men prominent in the village, 
 and the common fishermen who had known her 
 since childhood ; but not a woman took her hand, 
 or gave her more than a passing glance of recog- 
 nition. One or two turned their heads away, 
 not even replying to Slack's or Millie's " good 
 morning."
 
 252 Hester Blair 
 
 John's heart was filled with resentment, and 
 anger raged within him. He thought many and 
 unchristian-like things; and a smothered ex- 
 clamation of disgust escaped him. 
 
 Hester received one hearty, sincere and unaf- 
 fected greeting. Sally Pitts met her at the door 
 of the church. She had waited there for her and 
 smiled all manner of sweet things, but could not 
 say a word because she was choking, mostly with 
 joy; and Hester's eyes filled with tears. But 
 Sally was not alone: Sam stood beside her, and 
 took the hand Hester held out to him. 
 
 " I'm real glad to see yer, Miss Hessie," he 
 said. 
 
 Sally insisted on imparting something of a 
 private nature to Hester, and with her eyes bub- 
 bling over with happiness, whispered into Hes- 
 ter's ear : " Em," concluded the child, " every 
 Sunday." 
 
 " What be yer sayin', Sally? " Sam sheepishly 
 demanded. 
 
 " Sally tells me you go to church every Sun- 
 day," replied Hester. 
 
 " Yaas," answered Sam, " hed a change er 
 heart. Regular member now." 
 
 Hester whispered an invitation to Sally to 
 come up to the house as soon as the services were 
 over, and they passed into the church. 
 
 While Sally and Hester were talking at the 
 door, John watched the people narrowly. It left 
 no doubt in his mind as to the feelings that they
 
 Millie Speaks Her Mind 253 
 
 entertained; and his fears grew with the rage 
 that filled him. He cast a furtive glance at Hes- 
 ter, and the expression of settled calm, and her 
 unconsciously proud bearing, quelled his rebel? 
 lious spirit of resentment. 
 
 The minister read from John viii, 7th verse 
 " He that is without sin among you, let him first 
 cast a stone at her." 
 
 He spoke eloquently, but he did not enlist the 
 undivided attention of the congregation. In his 
 words they saw a direct allusion to the one who 
 engrossed their thoughts. His hearers listened to 
 his exhortations, followed his passionate dis- 
 course, exchanged looks with their neighbors at 
 his well rounded periods ; then fixed their eyes in 
 a bold stare on Hester's face, to satisfy themselves 
 that she appreciated the full import of his words. 
 Wherein they were, if not over charitable, very 
 human. But if they expected Hester to betray 
 the least sign of self-consciousness that she was 
 the object of their special regard, disappointment 
 must have filled their Christian hearts. And it 
 did. 
 
 The villagers did not approve of the interest 
 with which Hester followed the minister's words ; 
 and her modest, dignified bearing, with a woman's 
 acumen, they designated as " brass." They were 
 not to be fooled by any New York airs, and they 
 lost no time in putting this determination into 
 effect; for they resented what they termed her 
 high handed manner of " carrying off things."'
 
 254 Hester Blair 
 
 They lacked the knowledge of the subtle art of re- 
 fined cruelty, when the unspoken word carries 
 with it the power of a knife thrust: when a re- 
 mark uttered under the cloak of assumed friend- 
 ship, or muffled in a web of obscure English, has 
 the power that the insidious smile that accom- 
 panies it cannot lessen, to wring the victim's 
 heart. No, this was unknown to them, and they 
 went about humbling Hester in their own, sweet, 
 simple way. 
 
 The service ended, these spotless members of 
 the community, comprised of what is commonly 
 designated the " gentler sex," ambled to the 
 green in front of the church. Here was an un- 
 contaminated atmosphere, and an opportunity to 
 ease their over-wrought feelings of outraged de- 
 cency. They shook their heads dubiously and sor- 
 rowfully, and hoped, prayed, and lamented in the 
 same breath; and spoke of an awful warning to 
 young people in general, and to village maidens 
 in particular. They dilated upon the snares of 
 city life, and the designing ensnarers, who came 
 among them summers to upset their peace of 
 mind ; and their frills and furbelows fluttered ac- 
 quiescence, while their owners looked in all direc- 
 tions but where Hester was standing, talking to 
 the " Commodore," who, among other things was 
 saying : " Now Hessie, if you believe me, I never 
 was so glad to see anyone in my life." 
 
 The good soul should have gone on to her home, 
 which she ruled in a manner befitting her proud
 
 Millie Speaks Her Mind 255 
 
 title, or joined her sisters of the outraged feel- 
 ings. Hester kissed her on the cheek. She be- 
 lieved the " Commodore," and a slight, convulsive 
 twitching about the corners of her mouth threat- 
 ened her composure. 
 
 She bade the " Commodore " good-bye, and, 
 with John, turned homeward; and the good peo- 
 ple who remained behind, after having exhausted 
 the subject of Hester's concerns, returned to the 
 threadbare topic of interest which had done duty 
 for the past week Betty McDonald's ill-fated 
 marriage. Betty was a poor domestic without a 
 home, and faced the prospect of becoming a 
 charge on the state with a soiled name but a stout 
 heart. The man she had clung to through his 
 checkered career of debauchery and idleness had, 
 at the last moment, and without apparent cause, 
 refused to marry her : and he had left her to fight 
 alone the disgrace and disappointment which 
 seemed to be all that was left her. With ill-ad- 
 vised ardor the villagers proffered their sym- 
 pathy and talked much of a just retribution that 
 would overtake the recalcitrant Tom. But their 
 ill-timed suggestions and offers of assistance were 
 met with language and manner that arrested their 
 vicious interest in Betty's behalf. She could 
 talk, which she did ; and her vocabulary was ex- 
 tensive also lurid. Her defence of the erring 
 lover was forcible and couched in language which 
 the dullest could understand. She said that the 
 fault was hers, and when she desired any of their
 
 256 Hester Blair 
 
 help or advice, she would ask for it. They took 
 her at her word, and no hand or heart interposed 
 between her and the workhouse, and to those who 
 talked the loudest about lack of decency, she un- 
 feelingly answered that they were as bad as he 
 was. It is due to Betty to add that she believed 
 what she said; and there the case rested. 
 
 Meantime rebellion had taken possession of Mil- 
 lie, and, when opposite the old wharf, Slack, not- 
 ing the signs of the approaching storm, sought to 
 escape. Bill Blake, who was making his boat 
 fast to the landing, furnished the excuse, and 
 Slack lingered behind to speak to him. 
 
 " How's things go? " asked Slack. 
 
 " Es though they wer' greased fer th' occasion," 
 answered the faithful Bill. 
 
 " Fenton put up a fight? " 
 
 " He cut up a bit. Gum ! th' roads wer' rough. 
 Thought we'd shake the guts out er 'im. Left 
 'im at the camp at two o'clock this morning. 
 'Twas as dark as a pocket. Lucky I had Joe with 
 me ; he knew every inch of the way." 
 
 " Think Fenton'll find out who yer air? " 
 
 " No, we never spoke a word till we left him ; 
 but you shud er heered the cuss swear. He ripped 
 and swore, an' he'd hev th' law on us. Ho, ho, 
 ho, we'd be hung ef he hed his say. Slacky, let's 
 take a drink." And while his companion grinned 
 his approbation and acceptance of the invitation, 
 Bill fished out a half-pint bottle of prohibition 
 whiskey and, unmindful of the day and place,
 
 Millie Speaks Her Mind 257 
 
 the two men finished the contents of the bottle 
 with gurgling ohs and ahs, and were at peace with 
 themselves and the world. 
 
 John and Hester, followed by Millie, ascended 
 the hill to the Blair home; the young people in 
 silence, Millie vowing vengeance on the female 
 portion of the community. 
 
 No one ever dared mention in the spinster's 
 presence the current gossip regarding Hester. 
 The treatment of Hester that she had witnessed 
 in the church, was the effect of a cause of which 
 she was wholly ignorant. It was inexplicable to 
 her, but that only tended to increase her wrath, 
 and, forgetting the minister's words to which she 
 had just listened, she vowed summary and dire 
 vengeance on them, severally and collectively. 
 Hester's reproving glance did not restrain her, 
 and she paused half way up the hill to breathe. 
 Her voice overtook Hester and John as they 
 climbed upward. 
 
 " Ter think, Hessie," she cried between little 
 gasps for breath, " them Robinsons never so much 
 as noticed yer, an' all because they got a little 
 money. How'd they git it? I kin tell yer: 
 sellin' liquor. Thet's how they got it. P'r'aps 
 you don' know as how Jim Robinson was taken 
 up fer sellin' it; an' your own father fined 'im, 
 an' if yer father hadn't been so easy with every- 
 one, Jim Robinson'd bin shet up; an now will 
 yer look at the airs o' them women. Good Lor 7 ! 
 Tildy Robinson her ter well there ! I won't say
 
 258 Hester Blair 
 
 no more 'bout 'em ! They ain't worth it. An' them 
 Tylers! Everyone knows they got their money 
 cheatin' th' guverment on contracts. Jest wait 
 till the next sewin' suckle comes, an' ef I don' 
 hev my say out! Wher' be thet pesky Slack?'' 
 But the wisdom teeth of the wary Slack had long 
 been cut. 
 
 They entered the hall. Hester kissed the spin- 
 ster on the cheek. 
 
 " Millie, dear," she said, " I'll help you with 
 the lunch. John must be hungry."
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 BETTY MCDONALD'S TANGLED LOVE AFFAIRS 
 
 Two lives. 
 
 Unlike they are, and yet, how like withal. 
 Has not a sland'rous and unthinking 1 world 
 Made theirs a common cause? The one, endowed 
 By nature with such gifts as Heaven lends - 
 All these are hers, all, all but peace of mind 
 That woos contentment. The other! Why dwell 
 Upon those ills which, born of viciousness, 
 Defile the mind and court oblivion. 
 To her, poor soul, such peace as silence gives. 
 
 IT was the week following Hester's arrival. 
 Betty McDonald sat beside a rough table 
 sewing. The room where she worked was 
 not inviting, neither was it comfortable; but 
 it was clean. One might naturally expect to find 
 Betty cast down, even in tears, for fate had 
 treated her unkindly. And, as if fate had not ac- 
 complished her downfall with sufficient thorough- 
 ness and dispatch, the good people of the village 
 came to its assistance and made it complete; for 
 she was ostracized, and left to face the situation 
 as best she might. 
 
 The door opened and a man stepped into the 
 room. He was the one above all others whom 
 Betty did not care to see. She threw down her 
 
 259
 
 260 Hester Blair 
 
 work on the table, and turned on him threaten- 
 ingly. 
 
 " Didn't I tell yer not ter come here agin? " 
 she demanded. 
 
 " Yes," he answered doggedly, " but I wanted 
 ter see yer." 
 
 " Yer wanted ter see me," she answered, " but 
 yer don' want ter marry me? Haven't yer caused 
 me trouble enough? " 
 
 " Well," he said in a tone that he meant to be 
 conciliatory, " yer needn't be so ugly 'bout it. 
 I've tole yer I'm not of th' marrin' kind ; but I 
 wan'ter be friends with yer." 
 
 " Well, yer can't," she answered without pas- 
 sion. " Go," she said calmly, pointing to the 
 door, " an' don' come agin. If yer word is no 
 good, yer company's no better." 
 
 Betty resumed her work, and plied her needle 
 with tireless fingers, until she was again inter- 
 rupted by a knock at the door. With a startled 
 look for no one honored Betty with a social 
 call she opened the door, and Hester stepped 
 into the room. 
 
 Betty looked her surprise, and waited for her 
 visitor to speak. She was not pleased, and made 
 no effort to disguise the fact. She was on the de- 
 fensive, and the expression of her face hardened. 
 Hester had known her for many years and, not- 
 withstanding Betty's wilfulness and crusty tem- 
 per, believed there was much good in her. She 
 had heard Betty's story heard of her unhappy
 
 Betty's Tangled Love Affairs 261 
 
 position without work and without means, and 
 she determined to make an effort in her behalf. 
 
 " Well," said Betty sullenly, " didn't they tell 
 yer I was goin' ter th' poor-house? What d'yer 
 want here, ter find out why Tom Hardy won't 
 marry me? " She laughed mockingly, " yer'll hev 
 a fine job of it. It's none er yer business ! " 
 
 Hester seated herself and, unfastening her 
 cloak, it fell from her shoulders to the back of the 
 chair. 
 
 " Betty," she said calmly, " I came to see if I 
 could be of any assistance to you." 
 
 " Yer didn't ! Yer came here to preach how 
 mean Tom has used me, and ter pity me; and 
 behind my back to laugh at me. That's what they 
 all come fer. Well, yer can't pity me, for I don't 
 want it! But yer can laugh all yer please but 
 take care yer don't laugh when I'm around, fer 
 I won't have it. Yer hear that ! " 
 
 Betty's eyes flashed angrily. She cast a look 
 of defiance at her visitor, and disdain was in her 
 eyes and in her voice. Hester colored, but an- 
 swered gently: 
 
 " I did not come to laugh at you Betty, I came 
 to help you if you will consent to have me. Won't 
 you let me, Betty? " 
 
 " No, I won't ! Just hear that, and remember 
 it. I won't. Tom Hardy is just as good as the 
 man you had. He wouldn't marry yer and you 
 lost him. Hard luck! an' now yer back agin! 
 Ha, ha, ha," she stopped abruptly, " well, yer
 
 262 Hester Blair 
 
 no better'n me, on'y yer got more money ! No one 
 goes ter see yer, an' they wouldn't look at yer 
 when yer went ter church last Sunday. O, I 
 heered o' it. Thet's where yer wer' foolish. 7 
 never go to church, then they can't laugh at me." 
 
 Her speech dissolved into harsh laughter, but it 
 was her easy air of familiarity and mocking 
 tones, more than her words, that stung Hester 
 like a whip-lash. However, she was not there to 
 consider her own feelings. She had a mission to 
 perform, and she would not be turned from it. 
 
 " Betty," said Hester, " I did not come here 
 to discuss my concerns, but to offer you such 
 assistance as it is in my power to give. How can 
 I help you, Betty? " 
 
 " Yer can't," came the answer doggedly. 
 
 " Is it as bad as that, Betty? Is there no hope 
 that he will marry you?" 
 
 Betty looked up eagerly. She seemed to grasp 
 at the words, as if hope were not dead within 
 her; then her sullen mood returning, she said in 
 a scoffing tone: " What do you care? " 
 
 " Betty, I do care. You used to trust -me. 
 Come, Betty dear, let me try for the sake of your 
 future." 
 
 Hester had touched the heart spring, and Betty 
 dissolved into wails, and wrung her hands while 
 the tears ran down her cheeks. 
 
 " O, it's no use," she cried between her sobs, 
 " I've asked him a hundred times why he ever
 
 Betty's Tangled Love Affairs 263 
 
 promised me if he didn't mean to keep it, and 
 he always sez the same thing, thet he's not of 
 th' marrying kind. No, it's no use," she moaned. 
 
 " Let me ask him," Hester urged. 
 
 " You? " her discordant laugh filled the room, 
 and Hester unconsciously shuddered. Betty 
 stopped, but her eyes still laughed. " He'll tell 
 yer ter go straight ter th' divil." 
 
 Hester crossed to where the woman sat and 
 smoothed her hair gently. This sort of treatment 
 was new to Betty, and she did not know whether 
 to resent it or not. She looked up into Hester's 
 face, in whose eyes she read a tenderness that 
 soothed the rebellious spirit within her. 
 
 " Let me try," said Hester gently, " let me try. 
 Send me to him, Betty. Let me go to see him. 
 Let me talk with him, Betty dear, and perhaps 
 perhaps " 
 
 Hester's soft entreating tones again sent the 
 tears into the eyes of the unfortunate woman. 
 With Hester's arms about her, she rocked to and 
 fro moaning softly. 
 
 " Why did yer come here? " she wailed, " I wer* 
 a gettin' used ter it, an' I didn't care. An' now 
 yer clean upset me. I don't mind yer goin' ter 
 see him, but it won't do any good ; he'll only cuss 
 at yer. But yer not like the others, an' I ken trust 
 yer." She became calmer; and the two women, 
 so unlike, yet having the common bond of the 
 world's curse upon them to (draw them together,
 
 264 Hester Blair 
 
 spoke of the future with something like hope; 
 and their spirits rose as the plans that Hester 
 mapped out took form. 
 
 Hester's mission was but half completed. It 
 was still early, and she must yet see the man that 
 Betty loved. When Betty had said, " They were 
 as bad as he was," she pointedly referred to the 
 female portion of the village people, or the ele- 
 ment which was clamoring that justice be done 
 to her. It was more than probable that Betty was 
 right, and knew whereof she spoke. An inflexible 
 and fixed standard of morals they proclaimed to 
 the world was theirs, but they vaunted their vir- 
 tue in strident tones, and with indecent ardor, 
 which set you to thinking: and that is not con- 
 ducive to peace of mind, and is bad for the soul, 
 for being human one who thinks of such 
 things, discovers failings in others that had their 
 birth in his own heart. 
 
 Their own faults were glaring, perhaps vicious ; 
 but the men as a class were just, and Tom Hardy's 
 lot in life had become as unbearable as it was in 
 their power to make it, and his treatment of Betty 
 deserved. 
 
 With this knowledge to fortify her request, 
 even the demand she was prepared to make, Hes- 
 ter left Betty, and with a promise to return, 
 sought Tom Hardy's cabin. She entered without 
 knocking. Tom divined her errand and glared at 
 her defiantly. 
 
 " Well," he said doggedly, not giving Hester
 
 Betty's Tangled Love Affairs 265 
 
 time to speak, " I know what yer come fer, an' it 
 ain't er damn bit er use. I won't marry 'er nor 
 no other woman ! " 
 
 Hester almost smiled. Betty's forecast of her 
 reception was distressingly accurate. Undaunted 
 she replied : 
 
 " Tom, you're the only man in the village, or 
 on the beach, who swears in my presence." 
 
 He looked at her shamefacedly. She had dis- 
 armed him for the moment. She waited for him 
 to speak. He did not answer and she continued : 
 
 " Tom, do you think you have used Betty fairly 
 honestly?" 
 
 His crest-fallen air encouraged her and she 
 pressed her advantage. " Come, tell me," she 
 urged. 
 
 " Well," he answered with a growl, " I can't 
 help it. What's th' good er talkin' about it? I've 
 made up my mind thet I don't want ter git mar- 
 ried. She'll soon get over it. It's cost me trouble 
 enough. The boys don't give me a minute's peace 
 from one end of the week to the other." 
 
 " They would be justified in not giving you a 
 moment's peace. It is not Betty's fault. She 
 has remained silent, for she loves you more's 
 the pity. To be frank with you, I think your 
 treatment of her contemptible." 
 
 He did not dispute her. He had a faint idea of 
 his own worth; also of the justice of her re- 
 marks. 
 
 tf Well," he muttered doggedly, " she ain't got
 
 266 Hester Blair 
 
 no claim agin me, an' I won't marry her, an' that 
 settles it." 
 
 She wished to appeal to the human side of his 
 nature before resorting to a more strenuous 
 course, which she was fully determined to do, if 
 all other methods failed her. 
 
 " Tom," she spoke softly, " you have lived a life 
 of idleness even worse; for through drink, you 
 have sunk to as low a plane as it would seem 
 possible for a human being to reach. You remem- 
 ber my father? I know you do, and the many 
 times his kindness of heart saved you from the 
 punishment that you richly deserved. Stop a 
 moment and think." 
 
 His eyes were on the floor, and Hester, noting 
 the effects of her words, continued hurriedly: 
 
 " You do not forget, Tom, you cannot. You re- 
 member his words of encouragement, do you not? 
 How he begged you to do better, and how you 
 promised him if he would give you one more 
 chance, you would reform. And the day when, 
 though his patience had long been exhausted, 
 sooner than send you to jail, he imposed only a 
 fine. The payment of the money was all that 
 could save you from imprisonment, and you did 
 not have it. My father received the amount of 
 the fine that same night, and you were released : 
 and to this day you have never learned to whom 
 you were indebted. 
 
 He looked up shamefacedly, and eagerly 
 scanned her features.
 
 Betty's Tangled Love Affairs 267 
 
 " No," he said, " I never knew." 
 
 " It was Betty who furnished the money, and 
 she begged my father that you should never be 
 told that she paid it. She stood by you through 
 the years of your life that you have squandered. 
 More, I know that she has given you every dollar 
 that she has earned, for Tom, she loves you, 
 though not for one instant are you worthy of it. 
 She believed that you would make a home for 
 her she had a right to believe it. And now 
 be a man, Tom. Ah! I know you will do what 
 is right. Consider your own happiness and peace 
 of mind as well as hers. Come with me now. 
 Deacon Prouty is a Justice of Peace, and I will 
 be one of the witnesses to your marriage." 
 
 It may have been the instinct that even brutes 
 possess that moved him ; it may have been what 
 Hester had said. Whatever the power, without a 
 word he took his hat from a nail on the wall, and 
 within the hour, Betty was made Mrs. Tom Hardy 
 and the proudest lady in the land. And Mrs. 
 Tom, not content with quiet bliss, the following 
 day flaunted her lord and master in the eyes of 
 her tormentors, who refused to be surprised ; and 
 they sighed compassionately for Hester who had 
 not been so fortunate.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 MILLIE ANSWERS SLACK FOR THE 999TH TIME 
 
 Good Lor'! Didn't I tell yer a few days ago, 
 
 Ef yer ast me again what yer answer'd be? No! 
 
 JUNE came and all the land glowed with color. 
 A soft breeze was abroad and contentment 
 seemed to ooze from the warm soil and take 
 possession of all live things. The rosebushes, 
 like a virgin conscious of her charms, blushed 
 apologetically. The soft air drove every desire 
 from the heart of man, but to live and to love. 
 Even the sea was content to rest from its long 
 complaining, and soothed itself into a mirror- 
 like placidity. Nature ruled for peace, and only 
 man's innate obstinacy interposed to its complete- 
 ness. 
 
 Ethel had returned from school and the sum- 
 mer guests had begun to arrive. Mrs. Pendleton 
 had been the first, bedecked in gorgeous plumage 
 and smiles. Millie capitulated without reserva- 
 tion and kissed her, which led Slack to do strange 
 things, to wit, to seek the seclusion of his 
 shanty, where he accomplished the remarkable 
 feat of kicking himself, and performing strange 
 and unseemly antics, accompanying the same 
 with uproarious laughter that could be heard far 
 
 268
 
 Millie Answers for the 999th Time 269 
 
 over the water. But then, surrender on Millie's 
 part did not occur every day or decade, hence 
 there was cause and excuse for his unusual be- 
 havior. 
 
 Hester's life had gone on much the same since 
 her return home. She had received the slights 
 and vicious little thrusts offered her uncomplain- 
 ingly, giving in return kindness and charity. She 
 was not without champions. The " Commodore " 
 spoke her mind freely and to the point; and Mil- 
 lie, in high dudgeon, had severed her connection 
 with the sewing circle, a society duly organized 
 by the church for charitable purposes, but whose 
 chief occupation was the dissemination of gossip, 
 rank, flagrant, unwholesome gossip. 
 
 But polite protests to the treatment Hester 
 received did not satisfy Betty Hardy. She re- 
 taliated with deftly aimed blows, delivered with 
 energy and conviction. When the character of 
 Hester's assailants would warrant it, she told 
 things. These were not good to hear, and they 
 were for the most part true; for all knowledge of 
 a certain kind, and of unsavory quality, came into 
 Betty's possession with remarkable ease, and 
 without apparent effort on her part. Moreover, 
 Betty was very well developed physically, and of 
 muscular fitness ; and on more than one occasion, 
 when the private character of Hester's traducer 
 was, in truth and all consciousness, beyond the 
 reach of Betty's vitriolic tongue, she had resorted 
 to the unwomanly course of using her fists, which
 
 270 Hester Blair 
 
 was not good to see: for women's fists should 
 not usurp the prerogative of their tongues. But 
 Hester went on her way unmindful of it all, and 
 contentment was growing within her. 
 
 Of Fenton little was known. His yacht would 
 enter the harbor and, ghostlike, disappear, only 
 to return again at intervals. For a day or a night 
 he would be seen about the village, then go as 
 quietly as he came, where, no one knew, nor did 
 anyone seem to care; but he managed to keep 
 alive the gossip and, bit by bit, the story of Hes- 
 ter's life while in New York, became known to 
 everyone in the village. 
 
 John divided his time between Norton and New 
 York City. He attended to his duties, watched 
 over Hester's interests, and went on loving her in 
 his own way, with the hope ever with him that 
 some day she would return his love. 
 
 There was a mysterious something in the lives 
 of the inmates of the Blair home that baffled Mil- 
 lie. Hester was subdued, rarely smiled and 
 seemed unlike herself. John, when he called, 
 was morose and had little to say; and Millie de- 
 clared that, " Slacky jest grinned an' acted as 
 though he didn't know nothin' an' kept thet ter 
 himself." Even Ethel was imbued with the gen- 
 eral air of mystery that pervaded the household. 
 She declared that everyone had changed, and 
 seemed unnatural ; she didn't understand it, and 
 was ill at ease; and even Slack who had been her 
 counsellor since childhood, could not explain
 
 Millie Answers for the 999th Time 271 
 
 away the gloom that enveloped the family. Prep- 
 arations were under way for Ethel's birthday 
 party, but even these she entered into in a half- 
 hearted manner. 
 
 It was toward the middle of the month. The 
 rays of the descending sun touched the breeze- 
 fretted surface of the bay with amber, gold and 
 dull purple, and sent armies of brilliant gleams 
 dancing seaward. It was a time for love and 
 lovers, and Slack and Millie improved the op- 
 portunity to sit outside in the open space in front 
 of the house. To Slack's appeal Millie was moved 
 to reply with undisguised irritability. 
 
 " An' I tell yer agin, Slack Dorkins, for the 
 nine hundred and ninety-ninth time, no, an' no, 
 an no. I'm not goin' ter git married while things 
 air as they air. Isn't it enough that they're all 
 wrong 'thout pesterin' me 'bout gittin' married? " 
 
 " But, Millie," he pleaded, " 'Twouldn't make 
 any difference ter our way er livin'. I've saved 
 up a good bit in th' last twenty-five years, an' th> 
 folks'll never want fer money. Yer needn't wait 
 any longer on thet account." 
 
 Millie, who had been knitting, paused at her 
 work and rewarded him with a look of quizzical 
 amazement. 
 
 " Once in a while," she said, " 'bout 's often 
 as th' moon changes, you do say somethin' quite 
 sensible. It's all thet keeps me from losin' pa- 
 tience with yer. Sense Hessie got back from New 
 York ther' do seem ter be some ter'ble mystery. I
 
 272 Hester Blair 
 
 don't know half th' time whether I'm standin' on 
 my head er my heels." 
 
 Slack received his refusal philosophically. He 
 had been over the same ground many times, and 
 Millie's answer and rebuff he listened to with 
 smiling complacency. 
 
 " John isn't the same," Millie continued, as 
 though refusing an offer of marriage was an every 
 day occurrence, " afore he went ter New York 
 ther wern't a more light-hearted boy 'round. Now 
 yer kin hardly git a word out er him. Even Ethy 
 is changed. She don't seem th' same since she got 
 hum from school. Whatever 'tis, is fer th' best. 
 The Lord hes His own way er smoothin' out 
 things, an' I do believe thet His way is the best 
 way." And with this wise assertion she rose and 
 entered the house. 
 
 Ethel had listened to the last part of Millie's 
 remarks, and when Millie had disappeared, 
 walked softly to where Slack was sitting and 
 placed her hands over his eyes. 
 
 " O, I know who owns them little hands," Slack 
 said in a voice as gentle as the night breeze, " ther 
 as soft as the robin's breast when he comes in the 
 spring." He pressed her hands to the side of his 
 rough, weather-beaten face. " Sit down 'side me, 
 Ethy. D'yer know, yer the only one that'll hev 
 anything ter say ter old Slacky? Millie's so dern 
 cranky thet yer can't go near her." 
 
 Ethel was his baby. She filled the heart and 
 the life of this childless man, and he bestowed
 
 Millie Answers for the 99<?th Time 273 
 
 upon her affection, and almost idolatrous love, 
 that was pathetic in its yearning tenderness. So 
 it is apt to be with one who is much alone, or pur- 
 sues a solitary vocation. The heart's longings 
 center on someone, the heart clinging to that 
 one with doglike fidelity and unreasoning faith. 
 Ethel was to him his daughter and comrade, and 
 he romped and played with her with the ardor 
 of one of her years. With her, he was a child at 
 heart, with a woman's tenderness. Since Ethel's 
 childhood, with the candor and trust of youth, 
 they had shared together their joys and their sor- 
 rows; and they were now conspiring to wring 
 from Millie the long delayed consent to the fisher- 
 man's suit. To this end they were seriously con- 
 sidering the advisability of enlisting the sym- 
 pathies and advice of Mrs. Pendleton, for, as 
 Slacky naively asserted, " she'd hed experience 
 and might give 'em some pints." 
 
 To his mournful reference to Millie, Ethel re- 
 plied : 
 
 " Never mind Slacky, dear, she loves you, I 
 know she does." 
 
 " Maybe she do, but she hev a mighty queer way 
 er showin' it." 
 
 " She only feels as we all do," Ethel replied, 
 " that something is wrong. Poor dear Hessie I 
 And John is as serious as if he had lost a for- 
 tune." She sighed and looked down dejectedly. 
 " Why, I feel quite aged myself." Then her eyes 
 sought her companion's and she continued with
 
 274 Hester Blair 
 
 animation : " There is one who never changes ; 
 one who is as constant as the North Star, as 
 patient as a mother with her first born, and is 
 always cheerful; one whom everybody loves and 
 who loves everyone. He is the best and dearest 
 friend we have in the wide, wide world." 
 
 " Do I know 'im? Ef I don't I'd like ter." 
 
 " Yes, you know him." 
 
 " P'r'aps I kin guess who he is. How do he 
 look?" 
 
 " He is quite tall." 
 
 " Yaas." 
 
 " He has blue eyes a Roman nose a fierce 
 looking mouth fuzzy hair that is never 
 combed " 
 
 " As bad as mine? " Slack asked incredulously. 
 
 " Just like yours." 
 
 " Same color? " 
 
 " Yes, the same color." 
 
 " I didn' believe ther were Another sech head 
 er hair in the county! Millie sez there ain't. 
 What's his name? I want ter see thet head er 
 hair." 
 
 " I'll give you three guesses." 
 
 " Will yer? Well here goes. Captain Ed- 
 wards. He's the wust lookin' man 'long shore " 
 
 " No ! two more guesses." 
 
 " Seth Binks ! He's got a face like like " 
 
 " Wrong again. One more guess." 
 
 " Now ther's only one more thet I kin think
 
 Millie Answers for the 999th Time 275 
 
 on, an' he's so homely well I can't tell yer how 
 homely he is Zeke Newcomb." 
 
 " Wrong again. Don't move, Slack, and I'll 
 show him to you." She stood behind the settle 
 on which he sat, and taking a small mirror from 
 her pocket, with one hand around his neck, she 
 held the mirror before him. 
 
 " There he is," she said, " and he is the dearest, 
 best, old Slack in the world ; and I wouldn't have 
 one hair in his dear old fuzzy head different from 
 what it is." She kissed him on the cheek. 
 
 " Ah, Ethy dear, yer th' same little baby girl 
 that I trundled in my arms. D'yer remember how 
 I used ter wait fer yer at the foot uv the hill 
 yonder an' carry you on my shoulders ter th' 
 house, an' how yer used ter pull old Slack's 
 hair? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " An' I allus demanded payment for the ride. 
 D'yer remember what yer gave me fer tootin' yer 
 up th'hill?" 
 
 " One kiss when you walked, and two when 
 you ran up the hill." 
 
 " Thet's it, Ethy dear, thet's it. An' I never 
 wer' so well paid fer doin' anythin' in my life. 
 Them wer' happy days, little one, happy days." 
 
 " They'll come again, Slacky dear, they'll come 
 again. Now I want you to come with me and look 
 at the flower garden. I'm sure I saw two weeds 
 growing in the petunia bed."
 
 276 Hester Blair 
 
 " Did yer? Ther* life will be as fleetin' as a 
 summer love." 
 
 Millie came from the house, and casting an ap- 
 pealing glance at Ethel, settled herself comfort- 
 ably with her knitting. 
 
 " Ethy dear," she said, " I'm so nervous, thet 
 I don' know what I'm about half the time. Seems 
 though there wer j a great black cloud ready ter 
 drop on us. Slack Dorkins, will yer set down? 
 I allus said trust in the Lord. He does everything 
 fer th' best, an' gives ter them as is desarvin'." 
 
 Slack walked to where Ethel was standing and, 
 placing her between himself and Millie, spoke : 
 
 " Em ! Ethy says I'm uv th' desarvin' kind, don' 
 yer, Ethy? " Receiving an encouraging nod he 
 continued : " I've trusted in the Lord fer the past 
 twenty years, 'n I don' see as I'm nearer my re- 
 ward 'n I wus twenty years ago." 
 
 Millie tossed her head and maintained a dis- 
 dainful silence. Slack held a whispered consul- 
 tation with his ally, and receiving a gentle push 
 and a whispered command to go ahead, con- 
 tinued : 
 
 " D'yer think, Millie, ef I wer ter go on trustin' 
 in th' Lord, I'd hev my reward in this world, er 
 would I hev ter wait till th' next? " A congratu- 
 latory nod from his fellow conspirator, and an 
 energetic toss of the head from the enemy, left the 
 result of the last attack in doubt. Slack con- 
 tinued : " My patience has bin pretty good, don't 
 yer think so Millie? Twenty years ! "
 
 Millie Answers for the 999th Time 277 
 
 A muttered exclamation that some one was " a 
 pesky nuisance," warned Slack that conditions 
 were not propitious, and he beat a hasty retreat 
 in the direction of his shanty, beckoning to his 
 fellow comrade-in-arms to continue the assault. 
 
 An owl heralded the deepening twilight with a 
 discordant screech; and the lights from the vil- 
 lage flickered in feeble response to the call. The 
 sea was singing its night song. The crescent- 
 rimmed moon hung in the western sky and dipped 
 into the sea, and the stars emboldened by its im- 
 potent youth, blinked a merry good-night, and 
 shone with proud and unrivaled brilliancy. That 
 little night prowler, Sally Pitts, having entered 
 the house from the rear, and finding it deserted, 
 came through the front door, cuddled herself at 
 Millie's feet, and laughed riotously. As if Heaven 
 had ordained that peace were to be denied the 
 spinster, Sally asked : " Aunt Milly, why don't 
 you marry Slack? "
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 JOHN FIGHTS FOR THE WOMAN HE LOVES 
 
 No sword, no shield, no armor bright, 
 
 No trophies for the victor wait; 
 No prancing steed bears war-like knight, 
 
 Bedecked with gaudy pomp of state. 
 Yet never cause more holy, just 
 
 Nor one to lend the victor fame. 
 Ere this, have heroes bitten dust, 
 
 For the honor of a woman's name. 
 
 THE last week of June came, leaving events 
 behind to resolve themselves into history 
 as best they might. The summer guests 
 had arrived in numbers, and a holiday air was 
 abroad. 
 
 Life for Hester was becoming less burdensome, 
 and the work that she found to do among the poor 
 of the village, occupied her time not devoted to 
 the care and comfort of the summer boarders. 
 
 Every incident in the daily life of the villagers 
 was fastened upon to do duty as a topic for gos- 
 sip, and they ceased their open manifestations 
 of disapproval and censure of Hester's conduct, 
 as their interest waned. They received her with 
 tolerance, never allowing her, however, to forget 
 that their sufferance was tentative ; and this they 
 brought home to her in little ways that only a 
 woman can devise. Still, she was satisfied to 
 
 278
 
 John Fights for the Woman He Loves 279 
 
 work, and in her own way to fulfil the life that 
 destiny had willed to her. 
 
 Love never grows old by waiting, and Gary's 
 love fed on a yearning desire and a hope that 
 would not die. Again and again he had put off 
 his answer to his uncle's importunities that he 
 should accept the position in South America, 
 giving always the same reason for delay he had 
 not had sufficient time to consider it. He did not 
 press his suit with Hester, for he knew that 
 shame and sorrow hung heavy upon her, and he 
 felt that she would not consent that he should 
 share her burden with her. He knew her unself- 
 ish nature, knew that the treatment she had re- 
 ceived at the hands of those who should have 
 trusted her, stood between them. Yet, still he 
 hoped, and hoping, waited; and a savage resent- 
 ment against a debasing world grew within him. 
 
 Sam Pitts had plunged into the maelstrom of 
 commerce, and, in an old boat-house standing be- 
 side the wharf, was making a modest bid for a 
 share of the patronage that Deacon Prouty 
 claimed as his own. Sam's stock of goods was 
 comprised, for the greater part, of fishing tackle 
 and groceries of the dried and tinned variety; 
 and Sally, in her father's absence, served the 
 customers, and tried to appear very matronly and 
 business-like. 
 
 It was early evening and Sally was alone in the 
 store. Through the large window that opened 
 on the water side, threatening clouds could be
 
 280 Hester Blair 
 
 seen scudding across a leaden sky. The air was 
 sultry, and a distant flash of lightning turned the 
 bay into a sheet of flame. The door was ajar and 
 Hester entered. 
 
 " My ! Miss Hester," said Sally, " how you 
 scared me! Do you think we'll have a thunder 
 storm?" 
 
 " No," Hester replied seating herself beside 
 her. " It's heat lightning. I don't believe it will 
 storm." 
 
 " I love to see it. Don't you? I'm not afraid." 
 
 Hester smiled. It was like Sally to love a tem- 
 pest. As for fear, that was beyond her. The 
 gathering gloom seemed to intensify the pallor of 
 the child's face, and her eyes, as she looked up at 
 Hester, shone like sapphires set in gray-white 
 marble. She tried in her youthful way to read 
 what was written on the face that looked sadly 
 down upon her, but her judgment was guided by 
 instinct, not experience. Sally was endowed by 
 a depth of thought, and a discernment far beyond 
 her years, and in Hester's expression the child 
 read a studied calm, that was tinged with the 
 shadow of melancholy. Hester's smile did not 
 deceive her it lacked the candor, the flashes of 
 merriment when the heart speaks. However 
 much it deceived or escaped notice in others, it 
 worried Sally, who saw, and did not understand, 
 and with her eyes fixed on Hester's face in an in- 
 quiring gaze, she tried to divine the cause that 
 had wrought the change.
 
 John Fights for the Woman He Loves 281 
 
 " Miss Hester, aren't you always happy? " she 
 asked with the directness of childhood. 
 
 " Not always, Sally dear." 
 
 It was the smile that accompanied the words 
 that Sally could not fathom. 
 
 " Why aren't you happy? Is it because 
 you have lost something? " Sally's thoughts 
 were fixed upon a piece of paper sewed into 
 a little cloth bag that she wore around her 
 neck. 
 
 " It is not for what I have lost, Sally dear, but 
 you would hardly understand even were I to tell 
 you. There are sorrows and troubles that you 
 know nothing of, and I trust you never shall ! " 
 Hester pressed her cheek to Sally's, and her arm, 
 that was around the child, held her close. " I 
 wouldn't wish you to suffer," she continued, " but 
 I envy you Sally." 
 
 "Me?" Sally's eyes sought Hester's in in- 
 credulous wonder. " And you are so big and 
 beautiful ! " she exclaimed. 
 
 Hester smiled wearily. " Beauty doesn't bring 
 happiness, Sally, no more than color brings 
 warmth. It is the heart that is the home of hap- 
 piness, and the face can only disclose whether the 
 door is open or shut." 
 
 Sally was but dimly conscious of her meaning, 
 and remained silent. 
 
 A sheet of lightning bathed the water of the 
 bay in a lurid glare, and played upon the masts 
 and spars of the floating craft in the little harbor.
 
 282 Hester Blair 
 
 The wind sighed threateningly, and the sound of 
 distant thunder came through the open door. 
 
 " Sally," Hester continued, " Keep your little 
 heart locked up, and hold fast to the love that is 
 yours. Happiness is like a caged bird that is 
 forever trying to flutter away, and if it escapes, 
 dies, and leaves nothing but emptiness and deso- 
 lation behind." 
 
 " Dear me, how much you know," sighed Sally, 
 now thoroughly mystified. 
 
 " Sally dear, it has cost me much to learn." 
 
 Through the open door a fierce gust of wind 
 swept through the room. Two of the villagers 
 entered. 
 
 " Hessie," said Mrs. Bagly, the elder of the 
 two, " Mother Bently's a cryin' fer yer, an' takin' 
 on at a terrible rate. She won't 'low no one ter 
 do anything fer 'er, an' sez ef yer don't come back, 
 she'll get up; an' if she do, 'twill kill her, 
 sure." 
 
 Mother Bently was Hester's especial charge. 
 She w r as an old woman, past seventy, bedridden, 
 and being kept alive by the charity of her neigh- 
 bors. But this did not appease her wrath. On 
 general principles she despised all human kind; 
 but she reserved her bitterest hate for those 
 around her whom she had known during her life- 
 time. These she declared were mean, more, 
 they were downright bad ; and she'd have none of 
 them. And she claimed to know whereof she 
 spoke. In any case, they feared her tongue, and
 
 John Fights for the Woman He Loves 283 
 
 gladly turned the care of her over to Hester, and 
 were devoutly happy to be rid of her. The care 
 of Mother Bently was too arduous to be contem- 
 plated within the scope of charity. Besides, it 
 would be good for Hester. She should do some- 
 thing to show that she appreciated the kindness 
 with which they treated her considering. 
 
 Hester went out, and, passing by the open win- 
 dow that faced the sea, turned in the direction of 
 Mother Bently's home. There was a narrow 
 board walk in the rear of the building raised a 
 few feet above the ground, for protection from 
 the waters of the bay, that lapped the foundation 
 on which the store rested, and it was over this 
 that Hester walked. As she went by the win- 
 dow, a flash of lightning illumined the bay, and 
 brought out the beauty of her features that were 
 outlined against the dark-green waters. 
 
 " She's beautiful, no sayin' agin it," said Mrs. 
 Bagly, exchanging a look with her companion. 
 " Pity he didn't marry her. It's allus the way 
 with them kind." 
 
 Sally looked up into the speaker's face inquir- 
 ingly. "Why is it a pity, Mrs. Bagly?" she 
 asked. 
 
 " Why? O " Her ingenuity to frame a re- 
 ply was spared by the entrance of Fenton. 
 
 The women looked at him with the deference 
 due to wealth. He was known to every one in 
 the village because of his lavish expenditure of 
 money; and they regarded him as being far re-
 
 284 Hester Blair 
 
 moved from ordinary mortals. The two women 
 were aware that Fenton had known Hester in 
 New York, and they hoped he would speak of her. 
 Mrs. Bagley whispered to her companion under 
 her breath : " ef he'd only come two minutes ear- 
 lier." 
 
 But fortune favored them. With a glance 
 about the store Fenton asked : 
 
 " Was it not Miss Blair whom I just saw leav- 
 ing here? " 
 
 Mrs. Bagly gave a little gasp of joy and courte- 
 sied herself into notice. " Yes," she answered, 
 " thet wer> Hessie." Her eyes blinked in the semi- 
 darkness, and she waited with ill-concealed eager- 
 ness for him to speak. He rewarded her with a 
 smile such a smile as the damned might see on 
 the face of their tormentors. The smile, how- 
 ever, was not expressive enough to suit the guile- 
 less heart of Mrs. Bagly, it was, in a way, too 
 general. Besides, she feared that he might change 
 the subject, and she would never forgive herself 
 if she missed this opportunity. Blinking at him 
 smilingly, she ventured : 
 
 " Yer knew Hessie in New York, didn't yer? " 
 
 Fenton smiled again, but it was a smile of dis- 
 dainful regard, mingled with disgust, for the 
 creature before him. Bad as he was, he shud- 
 dered as he looked at this human vulture, in an- 
 ticipation, gloating over the character of one of 
 her sex that she would pick to pieces. 
 
 " Yes," he said, " I knew her."
 
 John Fights for the Woman He Loves 285 
 
 To the rapidly increasing darkness they paid 
 no attention^ nor did they see John Gary looking 
 in through the open window, with an expression 
 on his face as dark and threatening as the clouds 
 that hung in the heavens. 
 
 Since the day of Hester's return the two men 
 had not met. John, with the fear in his heart 
 that he would do Fenton bodily harm, avoided 
 him. Though rational in all things, John dared 
 not trust himself in the presence of the man who, 
 above all others, he blamed for the suffering that 
 Hester had endured. When he had looked into 
 the store and saw Fenton, his first impulse was 
 to turn back, to get away from any possibility 
 of an encounter with him. He feared his own 
 strength, and he feared the wild, uncontrollable 
 passion that the sight of this man awakened in 
 him. But at the sound of Hester's name he re- 
 mained, rooted to the ground, with the blood 
 dancing to his finger tips. 
 
 " Yes," Fenton was saying, " pity she came to 
 New York, and a greater pity that she well 
 never mind, it can't be helped now." 
 
 Mrs. Bagly's overwrought feelings found vent, 
 " There, Sary Dunn," she said turning to her 
 companion, " what'd I tell yer? " 
 
 A crash of thunder warned the women that the 
 storm was approaching and, when they opened 
 the door to depart, above the dying echoes rose 
 Sam Pitts' voice : 
 
 " Sally, go over to the house for my sou'easter
 
 286 Hester Blair 
 
 will yer? Boat's draggin' her anchor. Got ter 
 go out ter her." 
 
 The women and Sally went out, and the wind 
 slammed the door shut With a serpent-like 
 dart, a tongue of flame cleft the heavens in two, 
 and loosed the thunder that crashed over their 
 heads in rumbling peals. John, with the light- 
 ness of a cat, sprang through the open window 
 and stood before Fenton. 
 
 The two men stood motionless for a full 
 minute, while the tempest seemed to burst over 
 their heads in a succession of deafening crashes. 
 The bay and harbor were ablaze one minute, and 
 the next instant blackness, pall-like and impene- 
 trable, settled over land and sea, to disappear 
 again when the tongued flames shot across the 
 sky, and into the sea beyond the line of the hori- 
 zon. 
 
 The two men faced each other without fear, the 
 passion of hate burning within them. 
 
 " God ! " John exclaimed, " if you were a man, 
 or the semblance of a man, there'd be a satisfac- 
 tion in thrashing you ; but you're a thing, a blot 
 and an insult to the name of manhood. You're 
 a dog, worse than a dog, a cur whose bastard 
 blood proclaims him an outcast among his kind." 
 
 Deafening thunder shook the building to its 
 foundations, and rolled away in an army of 
 echoes. 
 
 " That's why," said Fenton, yon hired two 
 assassins to waylay me on the road and, after
 
 John Fights for the Woman He Loves 287 
 
 overpowering me, drive twenty or thirty miles 
 into the woods, and leave me in a hunter's shanty. 
 Were you afraid to meet me openly? " 
 
 John did not understand. It was the first that 
 he had heard of the encounter. He believed that 
 Fenton was inventing this through fear, or for 
 motives of his own. 
 
 " What you speak of," John said, " does not 
 concern me." 
 
 " You lie ! " Fenton fairly hissed the words. 
 
 John laughed scoffingly, " Do you think the lie 
 given by you would move me? Bah ! You de- 
 generate! I came into this store with one fixed 
 purpose that before you go, I will leave my 
 mark upon you. Do you hear? You craven 
 coward ! You slanderer ! " He grasped a chair, 
 and using his feet for a brace, wrenched the back 
 off with such force, that the chair went crashing 
 into the wall. He threw the rung, which was of 
 heavy wood and formidable in appearance, at 
 Fenton's feet. 
 
 " Defend yourself," he said, " you are not my 
 match physically." 
 
 Fenton picked up the stick. They rushed at 
 each other. John warded off the lunge that Fen- 
 ton made at him with his left hand, and dealt him 
 a telling blow, that sent him reeling against the 
 side of the building. It maddened Fenton, and 
 he rushed at John in a blind rage. He changed 
 his tactics, however, and instead of aiming at 
 John's head, directed a vicious blow at his guard
 
 288 Hester Blair 
 
 arm, wishing to disable him. John was unpre- 
 pared for this, and the stick came down on his 
 wrist with telling force. He realized Fenton's 
 design when it was too late, and furious with pain 
 and his own unguardedness, drove his uninjured 
 hand with terrific force at Fenton. It caught 
 Fen ton on the neck and chin, and nearly lifted 
 him from his feet, John could have followed up 
 his advantage and had his man at his mercy, but 
 above the roar of the storm came a cry from the 
 direction of the window. It struck John to the 
 heart and he turned his head. It was a fatal 
 move, for with a spring, Fenton raised the stick. 
 It came down with resounding force on John's 
 head back of the left ear, and he fell limp and 
 lifeless on the floor. Again the cry rose above 
 the storm, and Hester rushed through the door to 
 the prostrate form on the floor, the blood oozing 
 from a deep wound in his head. 
 
 " Coward ! " she exclaimed, but her voice was 
 lost in the rumbling roar outside. 
 
 Fenton said nothing but, laughing scoffingly, 
 turned on his heel to the door, to be confronted 
 by the tall, angular form of Sam Pitts, on whose 
 face was an expression not good to see. Fenton 
 shot a hasty glance at the window. He did not 
 like Sam's attitude, nor the threatening gleam in 
 Slack's eyes who stood looking in at the window, 
 the water running in a miniature stream from 
 the sou'easter that he wore, and trickling down 
 his bronzed face.
 
 "It was no time for talk action, immediate action - 
 was necessary."
 
 John Fights for the Woman He Loves 289 
 
 As between Slack and the window, and Sam 
 and the door, Fenton's judgment leaned towards 
 the latter. There was really no choice between 
 the two, the only difference being that it was 
 Sam's giant hand that closed upon Fenton's 
 throat, and shook him as a terrier shakes a rat, 
 until Fenton's face turned from red to purple, 
 and Hester's voice saved him from further pun- 
 ishment Sam then hurled him through the open 
 door, where he received an undignified kick from 
 Slack, who refused to devote further time to him 
 owing to his anxiety for Gary. 
 
 With gentle touches for they could be gentle, 
 these fishermen they examined the condition of 
 John's injuries. 
 
 It was no time for talk, action, immediate ac- 
 tion was necessary. Words could be indulged 
 in later. 
 
 The village doctor bent over him, dressed the 
 cut in the head of the injured man, and managed 
 to fill Hester's heart with sickening dread. 
 
 Within the hour John was resting in his own 
 home, and had he been conscious, and seen the 
 woman he loved bending over him with a world 
 of tenderness in her tear-bedimmed eyes, he would 
 have sworn loudly and with conviction, that the 
 fates had been kind to him. But he did not know. 
 And the morning sun, after the night of storm, 
 shone with added brilliancy; but to the clouded 
 brain of the man in the darkened room, all was 
 as black as Egyptian night.
 
 CHAPTEE XXV 
 JOHN'S RECOVERY 
 
 Throughout the night, throughout the day 
 
 In dreamless sleep her lover lay. 
 
 She touched his lips with kiss as light 
 
 As angel's foot-falls of the night 
 
 He woke, he sighed a sigh of bliss 
 
 And waking, begged another kiss. 
 
 THE story of the encounter between John and 
 Fenton, burst upon the village with the 
 intensity of the storm of the previous 
 night. Of late there had been a dearth of news, 
 and this event seemed a special dispensation of 
 Providence. They discussed it and commented 
 upon it ; censured all the parties concerned ; and 
 out of the meagre information obtainable Slack 
 would not talk, no one dared ask Sam Pitts, John 
 was unconscious many hours, and ill and weak 
 many more, Hester could not be seen, she was 
 hovering over John with the tenderness of a 
 woman who loves, and who sees the object of her 
 love in danger the good people were thrown 
 upon their own resources and ingenuity for facts. 
 But, undaunted, they wrestled manfully, or 
 rather womanfully, with the situations; and out 
 of the congestion of details evolved the following : 
 that Fenton and Hester had met by appointment ; 
 
 290
 
 John's Recovery 291 
 
 that John had surprised them; that he had at- 
 tacked Fenton who had broken a chair over his 
 head ; that Hester was the only one to blame ; and 
 that John was a blind fool to have anything to 
 do with her, when he knew what she was; and 
 there were Mary Briggs, Deacon Prouty's two 
 girls, who sang in the choir, and who were as near 
 ladies as girls could well be, who could make 
 John as good a wife as a man might ask for, 
 " even ef they hedn't ben ter New York an' lived 
 no one knew how." 
 
 Hester, meanwhile, was kissing John back to 
 consciousness. He opened his eyes with a realiz- 
 ing sense of his position and the cause that placed 
 him therein, and with a feeling of exquisite de- 
 light when he felt the lips of the woman he loved 
 lightly touch his own. Surprised in the act, she 
 blushed rose red, and forgot that he had been in 
 danger. Recovering herself, she asked him how 
 he felt and, observing her confusion, he laughed 
 uproariously for a sick man, and begged for an- 
 other kiss. 
 
 Hester, being assured that all danger was over, 
 mildly scolded him, for that is the way of woman. 
 
 When the role of convalescent could no longer 
 be prolonged, with cheeks glowing with color, and 
 heart rebelling against his offensively healthy 
 condition that made further efforts at nursing 
 on Hester's part mere pretense, John pronounced 
 himself well again. He went about his usual du- 
 ties, and scowled upon his over-anxious friends
 
 292 Hester Blair 
 
 and the world in general, because he could not be 
 comfortably sick, even for a reasonable time, and 
 be nursed by the woman he loved. But the stolen 
 kisses were a golden memory that filled him with 
 unreasoning delight, and all things else seemed 
 mean and paltry in comparison. 
 
 John sat on the porch talking to Hester. The 
 summer guests were preparing for a fishing trip, 
 and Millie's voice came through the open door 
 and windows in fretful complaining. Slack scuf- 
 fingly approached. 
 
 " Slack," John said, " did you know Fenton 
 had been attacked by two men and, after being 
 overpowered, dragged off to a camp twenty miles 
 or so and left there? " 
 
 Slack manifested but a mild interest. 
 
 " Cum ter think on't, 'pears ter me I did hear 
 som'thin' 'bout it." 
 
 John watched him narrowly. " Do you know 
 anything about it? " 
 
 Slack looked his surprise. 
 
 " How should I know. I jest remember hearin' 
 som'on' tellin' 'bout et. Let me see! Shudn' 
 wonder ef it wer' Bill Blake. Maybe 'twas." 
 
 John was perplexed. He realized that it would 
 be a waste of time to attempt to draw from Slack 
 more than he wished to disclose, allowing that 
 the fisherman did have knowledge of what Fen- 
 ton had stated. He looked at Slack, whose ex- 
 pression of countenance was that of a sleeping 
 child.
 
 John's Recovery 293 
 
 "What does Bill know about it?" John 
 asked. 
 
 " D'know ! I'll ask 'im ef yer want me ter. 
 Personally, I'd like nothin' better than ter take 
 Fenton twenty miles inter th' woods an' hang 
 'im up by th' thumbs. The dum skunk ! " 
 
 John believed Slack meant what he said. He 
 was equally certain that, if Penton spoke the 
 truth, the fisherman was concerned in the affair, 
 if, in fact, he were not the prime mover. But 
 wringing confidences from Slack when he chose 
 to withhold them, was a task that John did not 
 care to undertake. 
 
 Mrs. Pendleton, resplendent in an outing suit 
 of some soft, light colored material, smiled from 
 the doorway. Slack's answering grin enveloped 
 his face. He was fond of the widow, and he made 
 no special effort to disguise the fact. 
 
 " I heard Fenton's name as I came through the 
 hall. Tell me, has he taken himself off? I have 
 a tender interest in him." 
 
 " Seems ter me," Slack answered, " thet every- 
 one has a special interest in Fenton. John wer* 
 a talkin' as how he got kidnapped an' run inter 
 th' woods." 
 
 " So Fenton told me," Mrs. Pendleton replied, 
 " he said that he was overpowered on the road 
 between here and the railroad station by two 
 men, who bound and gagged him, and drove 
 through the woods to a huntsman's camp. He 
 afterwards learned that it was owned by a Mr.
 
 294 Hester Blair 
 
 Dimock. The next morning he was forced to walk 
 eight miles through mud " 
 
 Slack's soft chuckle developed into a roar. It 
 brought the guests from the house anxious to join 
 him. They loved mirth, and they loved Slack. 
 It also brought Millie with the remark that, 
 " some folks shud hev more sense," but Slack 
 was beyond the power of Millie's reproving 
 glance. 
 
 " How I shud er like ter see 'im ! Wonder ef 
 he hed on his patent leathers? " 
 
 " But the best of it is," Mrs. Pendleton inter- 
 jected, " he lays the blame upon John." 
 
 " Ho, ho, ho," began Slack, then stopped. 
 " Why John," he said reprovingly, " I wouldn't 
 er thought it uv yer! Besides, yer layin' yerself 
 liable." 
 
 John smiled at Slack's audacious coolness. He 
 watched the eyes of the speaker that laughed 
 boldly into his own. 
 
 Mrs. Pendleton voiced John's opinion, " I do 
 believe, Slack," they were on a very friendly 
 footing, even Millie noticed it " I do believe you 
 know more of the affair than you care to dis- 
 close." 
 
 " Now, Mrs. Pendleton," began Slack, 
 
 Captain Edwards's voice interrupted. He was 
 bellowing from the crest of the hill that the boat 
 was ready. 
 
 " And you'll come fishing, Mr. Dorkins? " 
 
 Mrs. Pendleton hardly needed the quick glance
 
 John's Recovery 295 
 
 Slack directed at the door to tell her that Millie 
 was standing there. 
 
 " Don't quite see how I kin," he answered. 
 
 Mrs. Pendleton could almost feel Millie's scorn- 
 ful glance. She continued sweetly : " Dear me ! 
 and we had counted on your going." She turned 
 to the others : " Ladies, can't you persuade him? " 
 
 " Do come! " they exclaimed in varying tones 
 of voice. 
 
 Slack had one eye fixed on the face in the door- 
 way. He saw the toss of the head ; but he felt the 
 withering glance that accompanied it. Mrs. Pen- 
 dleton smiled sweetly at him. It was a conscious 
 smile and supposedly conveyed a meaning only 
 known to themselves. The smile was resented by 
 at least one of the party, who was on the point 
 of openly referring to the private understanding 
 some people seemed to have, and disclaiming any 
 interest in it. 
 
 Mrs. Pendleton, however, gave her no oppor- 
 tunity. She said : 
 
 " I have written some verses on fishing. Would 
 you like to hear them, Mr. Dorkins? " 
 
 " With pleasure," he answered, bowing and 
 placing his hand over his heart. The action, Mil- 
 lie believed, was wholly uncalled for. 
 
 Mrs. Pendleton began : 
 
 " We'll fish for fish in the open sea, 
 
 When the sea is calm, when the sea is rough, 
 In the tight little bay, or under the lea 
 Of the bolder bluff, of the bolder bluff.
 
 296 Hester Blair 
 
 If the fish are shy, and with cunning grille 
 
 Kefuse the bait on a silver hook, 
 We'll lure them on with a winsome smile, 
 
 And a fetching look, and a fetching look. 
 
 Or -we'll leave the fish with a sigh of regret 
 And fish for fish of the human kind; 
 
 With minnows of love, and a silken net, 
 For love is blind, yes, love is blind. 
 
 The summer wanes, and ere I go, 
 
 I'll add one more, 'twill make just ten; 
 
 And I'll love them all! I have told them so, 
 When I come again, when I come again." 
 
 Millie made periods and exclamation points 
 with her head and eyes, during the recital, and 
 looked unutterable things at her property, who 
 was listening in open-mouthed and undisguised 
 admiration. A chorus of " Ohs " and " Ahs " re- 
 warded Mrs. Pendleton's effort. 
 
 One of the listeners, however, except for a 
 slight disdainful curl of the lips, manifested no 
 outward sign that she had heard Mrs. Pendleton. 
 Her opinion, expressed later was, " thet it was 
 down-right silly." 
 
 After the applause had subsided, someone 
 asked : " Can you withstand that, Mr. Dorkins? " 
 
 Slack tried to catch the expression on the face 
 in the doorway, but could only see the head dance, 
 and a stray curl bobbing about. He looked at 
 everyone but Millie, who bided her time and har- 
 bored her scorn. He rose slowly out of his seat. 
 
 "Well," he said, "I don't know but thet I 
 will being as how th' invertation is so pressin'."
 
 John's Recovery 297 
 
 Then it came. A whole morning's pent up 
 irony, in a voice that said that she didn't care 
 for all the smiling understandings in the complex 
 network of the universe. She was addressing her 
 property, her very own, and what right had he 
 to think for himself? She could afford to assume 
 a slow sing-song tone. She was simply voicing 
 her decision that had been made up before the 
 discussion had been many minutes old. 
 
 " P'r'aps yer 7 !! remember, Slack Dorkins, ther's 
 th' wood to be got in ; ther's th' garden stuff ter 
 be got ready fer dinner; th' churnin' hes got ter 
 be done some time ter-day ; art er thet, if yer hev 
 any spare time, yer might put on a yachting' suit 
 an' go sailin'." 
 
 Slack dropped slowly back into his seat with 
 becoming humility. " Don't see as how I kin go 
 ter-day, Mrs. Pendleton. Much erblidged ter yer 
 fer th' invertation. Some other day 
 
 " O, I am so sorry, my dear Mr. Dorkins. You 
 don't know how we shall miss you. How I should 
 like to help you with the churning ! " 
 
 Captain Edwards's voice said plainly that he 
 was tired of waiting, and the guests slowly de- 
 scended the hill to the boat landing, followed by 
 Millie's voice protesting against the frivolities of 
 life, and exhorting a divine Providence to be le- 
 nient to Incompetents known as summer board- 
 ers.
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 " IT IS BETTER THAT YOU FORGET " 
 
 You ask me to forget. Though. I must part 
 With all that's dear to me in life, sweetheart, 
 Grant me the memory of a love that fills 
 My life with a sweet ecstasy that thrills 
 The heart. Hopeless it be, mayhap, and yet 
 I would not if I could, dear love, forget. 
 
 IT was the twenty-sixth of the month, memor- 
 able in the Blair family as the day preced- 
 ing Ethel's birthday. A festive feeling was 
 in the air, and the inmates of the old farmhouse 
 were burning with impatience and anticipation. 
 The morrow would usher in Ethel's seventeenth 
 birthday, and with it the festivities with which it 
 was to be marked. Sixteen times, in as many 
 years, had the friends and neighbors of the family 
 celebrated the event, and Hester was determined 
 that in no way should the seventeenth differ from 
 what had gone before. She awaited the day with 
 trepidation, fearing the villagers' ill-concealed 
 aversion for herself might be visited upon her 
 sister. In her determination to live down their 
 distrust and dislike, she had gone on with the ar- 
 rangements for the party, and she entered into 
 the spirit of the occasion in a manner that be-
 
 " It is Better That You Forget " 299 
 
 trayed none of the dread that filled her heart. 
 She joined in the laughter of the guests with her 
 old time light-heartedness, and Millie and Ethel, 
 noting the change, marveled, and congratulated 
 each other that she was her former self again. 
 She did not, however, deceive Slack, and it hurt 
 him, for he knew what the effort cost her. 
 
 History was making fast for some of the actors 
 of our life drama. John was obliged to give an 
 answer to his uncle, who insisted that he either 
 accept or decline the position. It was generally 
 understood that he would accept it. His eyes told 
 that life had gone out of him, and with its going 
 had come the determination to get away any- 
 where, where he could not be daily and hourly 
 reminded of his love for Hester. 
 
 The guests were lounging upon the porch. The 
 party was under discussion, in fact, nothing else 
 had been talked of for a week past; and Slack 
 was being plied with questions as to the arrange- 
 ments for the dance. 
 
 Millie was holding a whispered consultation 
 with Ethel as to the advisability of substituting 
 vanilla flavoring for lemon; how long an egg 
 should be beaten to make frosting; and certain 
 vague allusions to cranberry tartlets and plum- 
 pudding, that did not tend to allay the impatience 
 of her listeners. She was happy, as happy as it 
 were possible for her to be, for there was much 
 cooking to do, and therein to her lay Heaven. 
 She had forgotten her troubles, and for two whole
 
 300 Hester Blair 
 
 days Slack had been allowed to run at large, un- 
 heeded and unrestrained, and to revel in lux- 
 urious disorder. There was something foreign in 
 his manner ; and he went about with a determined 
 air and a confident stride that foretold a happen- 
 ing. There had been many earnest and pro- 
 tracted consultations with Ethel; and he ex- 
 changed smiling glances with Mrs. Pendleton 
 that were full of meaning. Many times during 
 the day he found it necessary to confer with the 
 widow, whose experience lent the advice she gave 
 him added weight; and he would leave her with 
 head high, and a confident, self-assured smile. 
 
 Hester was alone in the dining hall, standing 
 before the open fireplace, one hand resting on the 
 mantel above it. The talk of the guests jarred 
 upon her nerves ; and she was glad to seek quiet 
 and throw off the mask of assumed jollity. The 
 time she had dreaded for months past, had come. 
 To John she must say the word that would take 
 him out of her lifel He would know : he would 
 have the answer for which he had waited, and 
 she must give it to him. It was not of herself 
 she thought. She had schooled her heart and her 
 mind to bear suffering with patient stolidity, and 
 the kicks and the buffets of the world she neither 
 turned from nor resented. But it was the suffer- 
 ing of the man she loved that touched her heart- 
 strings, and her courage dissolved, and left the 
 heart nothing to build upon ; for with her answer, 
 came the death of hope. Her refusal was a trib-
 
 " It is Better That You Forget " 301 
 
 ute to the greatness of his love. It was he alone 
 and his future that she considered ; for she knew 
 the world, and that world would never forgive 
 her ; nor allow him to forget that he had defied its 
 opinion. She was expecting Gary, and with 
 love's quick ear, she recognized his step in the 
 hall before he opened the door. She did not move 
 from her position, and he stood a moment after 
 entering the room, before speaking. 
 
 " Thinking, Hester? " he asked. 
 
 " Yes," she answered, softly. 
 
 "Of whom?" 
 
 " Of you, John dear, and what life will be when 
 you are away." 
 
 " Away," he laughed bitterly, " what a jolly 
 lark 'twill be, with eight thousand miles of ocean 
 between us. And you'll remember " 
 
 " Yes, I'll remember our childish love-making." 
 Her voice sank to a whisper. 
 
 " Indeed yes," he answered. 
 
 " And the winter evenings at the piano." 
 
 Ethel was softly singing an old folk song in 
 the adjoining room, and weaving a net work of 
 harmony round the simple melody. They lis- 
 tened, and neither spoke for some minutes. 
 
 " That was one of the songs you loved, John." 
 
 " My God ! " he muttered. She could not see his 
 face, or the effort he made to control himself. 
 
 " And the moonlight evenings on the bluff. We 
 could hear the boatmen singing, and we made 
 such absurd promises to each other."
 
 302 Hester Blair 
 
 " Absurd," he repeated, " quite absurd." 
 
 " And when you write, John dear, your letters 
 will become more and more formal; and then I 
 shall know that that you forget." 
 
 " Would to God that I could ! And yet I would 
 not" 
 
 " Don't John, it is too late too late." 
 
 " It is not too late," he said passionately, " if 
 you loved me Hester " 
 
 She turned and looked at him sadly : 
 
 " If I loved you? If I loved you less I w^ould 
 give you the answer you desire. I will not con- 
 sent to cloud your life. You know how I am 
 treated in the village." 
 
 " The beasts ! " he exclaimed. 
 
 " Do you realize that they shun me as some- 
 thing unclean? That the friends of my child- 
 hood pass me by and turn their heads from me? 
 Go where I may, 'twill be the same. In a wo- 
 man's case the world never forgets or forgives. 
 Let the breath of calumny once touch her name, 
 all is over. Be she innocent or guilty, it matters 
 not, the world will have her guilty. No, John, 
 it cannot be." 
 
 " My God ! " Despair was in his voice and in 
 his face, " do you think I can pluck the image 
 from my heart that I have worn there for a life- 
 time? That I can break from past associations 
 that have stamped themselves on my heart and 
 brain, until they have become a part of my being 
 life itself? Is there anything that will change
 
 " It is Better That You Forget " 303 
 
 your answer? Can you give me no hope to live 
 for? one word that in time you will send for 
 me?" 
 
 " No, no, John dear, my decision is final. I 
 thank God for your faith in me. I would give 
 more for your trust than " 
 
 " My faith in you, Hester, is the faith I learned 
 at my mother's knee. When I lose that faith de- 
 sire for life shall have ceased ; for when my faith 
 in you dies, then dies my faith in womankind. 
 Hester, I will wait." 
 
 " Don't, John, don't open the old wounds and 
 wring our hearts anew. It will avail nothing, 
 and will not alter my determination. When you 
 are far away, when time has healed the wound, 
 write to me, dear friend, and believe me your 
 words will find an answering beat of sympathy 
 in my heart. When at some future time you find 
 some sympathetic helpmate who can, in some de- 
 gree, fill your life, be assured that I shall offer a 
 prayer that she may be worthy of as true a heart 
 as ever woman loved ! " 
 
 What Hester suffered she alone knew. It was 
 too late now to proclaim the truth, even did she 
 desire that the truth be known; but she would 
 not consent to have him take up her burden, how- 
 ever much her refusal cost her. She loved him 
 too well to accept what she deemed a sacrifice, 
 that might influence his life. She had given him 
 his answer in a voice in which love and sorrow 
 struggled for mastery, but controlled by a calm
 
 304 Hester Blair 
 
 determination; and it left no doubt in John's 
 mind that it would be useless to try to swerve her 
 from her purpose or decision. Her nature was 
 one that could be influenced only by the highest 
 ideals; and her sense of justice dominated her 
 judgment. She turned to him with the feeling 
 that she had surrendered all that was left for her 
 to give, but with a calmness that told nothing of 
 what the effort had cost her. 
 
 " John dear," she said, " it is better that you 
 accept your uncle's offer at once. You have al- 
 ready delayed too long. It will save us both un- 
 necessary suffering." 
 
 He had once told her that he was a strong man, 
 with a strong man's feelings. He looked at her, 
 and his eyes said what he could not trust himself 
 to utter. 
 
 After a few moments of silence two of the 
 guests hurriedly entered the room, filled with con- 
 cerns of much moment to themselves. They failed 
 to appreciate the glance that John met them with ; 
 a look that might be construed as wishing them 
 consigned to that place which is so far removed, 
 that it is not for us to consider its exact location. 
 Hester received them with an air of interest. 
 
 History has never recorded whether or not 
 Marie Antoinette smiled when she laid her head 
 on the block of the guillotine. Be that as it may, 
 Hester's smile told the guests that they could 
 count upon her interest in their unspoken trouble, 
 which was bubbling from their eyes, and trem-
 
 " It is Better That You Forget " 305 
 
 bling on their overworked tongues. And they 
 but what had they to do with broken hearts? 
 That undefined complaint is to be found only in 
 story books. They were considering the dance, 
 which was a much more tangible affair. 
 
 " Miss Blair, won't you and Mr. Gary come out 
 on the porch? " they asked. " Do you know, we 
 had arranged to dance the minuet, and someone 
 says that the band can't play the music." 
 
 Here was a condition of affairs. Hester lent 
 her counsel to overcome the difficulty. John ex- 
 cused himself. He wanted to think, and he 
 sought the bench on the bluff. He muttered some- 
 thing concerning summer guests in general. It 
 is not necessary to record what he said. He ad- 
 dressed his remarks to the sea, and the soft night 
 breezes sighed acquiescently. 
 
 Hester explained that the village band could 
 not play the minuet. Their music was of the 
 " play by ear " order, and notes were to them as 
 Greek to a Comanche Indian. 
 
 " Couldn't the piano be moved out to the or- 
 chard? And wouldn't she play for them to dance 
 the minuet? " To which she smilingly consented. 
 
 " But they hadn't rehearsed it, and really, they 
 ought to practise it a few times, a sort of dress 
 rehearsal, you know. Would Hester play it now? 
 They would dance on the porch. What a dear 
 girl she was." 
 
 They formed for the dance and Hester's hands 
 brought forth the quaint music with uncertain
 
 306 Hester Blair 
 
 touch, and the sound jarred upon her nerves, for 
 the heart would be considered. The dancers 
 wrangled good-naturedly with each other and 
 "would she kindly play it again?" which she 
 did. And thus tragedies and comedies are played 
 under our very eyes, and we do not know it till 
 the curtain falls. 
 
 Meantime in the dining room, Mrs. Pendleton 
 was saying : 
 
 " To-morrow's your opportunity ! The excite- 
 ment ! The dance ! " 
 
 " Yes," answered Slack, " but you don't know 
 Millie." 
 
 " Dear me," replied her companion, " how 
 little you know women. A woman is like an un- 
 broken horse, she obeys only the man who is her 
 master. You must break her; bring her under 
 control ; keep the reins so that she feels that your 
 hands are on them, and her love is yours." 
 
 " Ter-morrer I'll " 
 
 " Now you grasp the situation ! Begin by mak- 
 ing love to the girls from the village. 'Twill bring 
 Millie to her senses." 
 
 " D'yer think so? " he asked. 
 
 " I know it. You've dilly-dallied long enough. 
 I'd have lost patience with you long ago. Tell her 
 now or never. My experience ought to give some 
 weight to my advice." 
 
 " Yes," agreed Slack, " I think it hed." 
 
 She looked at him sharply, but his child-like 
 gaze met her own unflinchingly. They discussed
 
 " It is Better That You Forget " 307 
 
 their plan of procedure, and, while the guests 
 danced, and Hester, with smiling face played, 
 the hammers of the instrument seeming to pound 
 on her heart-strings, the conspirators arranged 
 the details to "Capture Millie's long withheld con- 
 sent. But they had not counted upon her enter- 
 ing the room at that moment. Their heads were 
 close together as they whispered their confidence 
 of success. 
 
 Millie sailed majestically into the room and 
 cast a haughty, indifferent glance at Mrs. Pendle- 
 ton, which did not include her companion ; and 
 her curls tossed back her disdain with vigorous 
 energy. But her property held himself erect with 
 new-found courage. She took a lamp from the 
 mantel and went upstairs, followed by a gentle 
 chuckle from the wretch who dared believe that 
 on the morrow, he would wring from her con- 
 sent to become Mrs. Slack, and do his bidding 
 for all time. 
 
 They returned to the porch in time to hear the 
 guests thank Hester, call her a " dear " and ex- 
 claim : " They had never heard the music of a 
 minuet played so well ! She seemed in such sym- 
 pathy with the dancers." 
 
 " Mr. Dorkins, is it true that the band consists 
 of but two pieces? " 
 
 " Generally it do," Slack replied, " a fiddle an' 
 a big fiddle, an' it's a hummer ! Beats any five 
 piece band yer ever heered. Dice Robbins plays 
 the bull-fiddle, and when he gets under full sail,
 
 308 Hester Blair 
 
 yer'd think a sou'easter wer' comin' down th' 
 coast. Talk uv yer Pagganinies ! why he c'n play 
 a chorus-jig on one string, 'n when th' notes ain't 
 thick 'nough in th' tune ter suit 'im, he jest 
 chucks in whole handfuls of his own. Why, 
 Dice's a whole band in himself, and a church 
 organ ter boot; 'n ter-morrer yer'll say as how 
 I'm pretty near right ! "
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 THE MORNING OF THE 27TH 
 
 Hearts break! What matters it? On with the dance! 
 
 IT was the morning of the twenty-seventh. 
 The mysterious hush that precedes the first 
 gleam of light was over land and sea, and 
 nature, awaiting breathlessly the breaking of 
 dawn, seemed to pause in wonderment and view 
 its own marvelous workings, while the darkness 
 thickened as if to hide its charms. It was a calm 
 awakening of a new day : a light appeared in the 
 east and trembled lest it break the spell, then the 
 cloud banks, low on the horizon, blushed a dull 
 red and the day was born. Smoke curled in list- 
 less waves from the chimney tops; and the sails 
 of the early fishermen flapped lazily, as their 
 boats drifted aimlessly at a sluggard's pace. 
 
 The inmates of the Blair home were astir. 
 Either hope, despair or joy had taken possession 
 of every heart and mind, and they awaited the 
 day with varying emotions. Within the walls of 
 the farm house all was anticipation; but none 
 were prepared to say just what they expected. 
 There was an air of mystery about everything. 
 Slack was an enigma to all ; Ethel felt that some-
 
 3 1 o Hester Blair 
 
 thing was wrong, or was about to happen, and 
 almost regretted that she was to have a birthday 
 party. Millie was too busy with the surprises she 
 was preparing, which took the form of huge 
 cakes covered with a filigree of frosting, to no- 
 tice the guests, and they, thinking only of them- 
 selves, were uproariously happy in anticipation 
 of the dance. Hester seemed to be the only self- 
 possessed member of the family; but there were 
 dark circles under her eyes, which she assured 
 them were occasioned by a slight headache. 
 
 At breakfast the guests were hilarious. They 
 all talked at the same time, and forgot the muf- 
 fins, which was a deadly offence from Millie's 
 point of view. But they made atonement by 
 draining the coffee urn for coffee of Millie's 
 brewing was the kind that gladdens the heart, 
 and puts one on an equality with kings. The 
 breakfast finished, they repaired to the lawn 
 to give vent to their exhilaration, for truth to say, 
 they were slightly under the influence of Millie's 
 coffee, for it was not to be trifled with. 
 
 Young Stevens began it. He claimed to be an 
 amateur actor ; he believed he was meant for bet- 
 ter things. 
 
 " Heigh-ho ! Would to Heaven the time'd fly 
 on apace. The dance! The dance's the thing!" 
 
 " Would to Heaven that Ethy had a birthday 
 party every week," added one of the lady guests. 
 
 Stevens scowled on her for the interruption, 
 then striking a posture continued : " The slug-
 
 The Morning of the 27th 311 
 
 gard sun now pauses in its course to mock at my 
 impatience." 
 
 " It do. It doth. Hear him ! He's drunk on 
 Millie's coffee." 
 
 Placing his hand over his heart with true dra- 
 matic fervor, Stevens rewarded them with a stare. 
 
 " Could I of my nether limbs a pendulum make, 
 I'd tick the time along with mad, o'erwhelrning 
 speed. The hours would minutes be, and this 
 terrestrial sphere would on its axis turn with 
 such a wild abandon that, at stroke of three, paus- 
 ing to resume its snail-like course, the shock 
 would hurl us into limitless space." 
 
 He glared at them with wild-eyed anticipation 
 of applause. 
 
 " Limitless fiddlesticks ! " came in a chorus. 
 
 " Until, carrying us to the unknown pole, the 
 air, compressed till 'twas as a million pounds to 
 the square inch, ere we had time to shiver, return 
 us with a mighty sch-ute, and land us in the heart 
 of that dark continent, where Dusky Belles, sans 
 raiment, only such as Mother Nature had adorned 
 
 them with " The ladies interrupted him with 
 
 a protracted, " O ! " Undaunted he continued : 
 " would join us in a mad, esthetic dance. No 
 shock to modesty, for our apparel gay would 
 o'er ten thousand miles be strewn; and clothed 
 in smiles and such expressions to a kind Provi- 
 dence of gratitude as would befit our .nakedness, 
 we'd return to Nature." 
 
 "He's mad!"
 
 312 Hester Blair 
 
 " I am," he replied, " for the dance ! " He shuf- 
 fled off a few steps and turned to Mrs. Pendleton 
 who had coine from the house. 
 
 " Madam ! " he exclaimed, " we've returned ! " 
 
 " From where? " she asked. 
 
 " From Mars ! Aye, eh faith ! From Mars ! We 
 found them dancing! We rested for the brief 
 space of eight hundred years! The first figure of 
 the cotillion was yet unfinished ! They are danc- 
 ing yet! And now, fair conqueror of hearts, 
 I'll " 
 
 " He's mad ! " they reiterated. 
 
 " Hush ! " Mrs. Pendleton said. She turned to 
 a lady guest. " The very air is surcharged with 
 madness. It makes me think of one of the panto- 
 mimes at dear old Drury Lane that I never 
 could understand. Comedy! Romantic Drama! 
 Tragedy! All rolled into one; and most marvel- 
 ous ! / was not concerned in it. That is, as much 
 as I'd like to be. It will be one regret of my life. 
 One lost opportunity." Her sigh was eloquent. 
 " Well, there's this satisfaction, it's the only one 
 I ever missed ! First came the announcement of 
 the birthday party; then, directly on its heels, 
 we hear of Mr. Gary's departure for South Amer- 
 ica. What next, I wonder? How I shall miss 
 Mr. Gary ! " She sighed, " do you know, I think 
 him just too lovely ! And to think that Hes- 
 ter has refused him ! I can't imagine a woman 
 in her senses refusing Mr. Gary ! "
 
 The Morning of the 27th 313 
 
 " Do you think she cares for him? " asked her 
 companion. 
 
 " Care for him ! Care for him ! She's madly 
 in love with him ! How could she help it? I'm 
 in love with him, and so are you, and so is every 
 woman on the place. Look at him! His head, 
 his eyes, the shoulders of a Roman gladiator, the 
 carriage of a prince ! O, she must be mad, mad, 
 mad! " 
 
 " Dear me, every one seems a bit touched. 
 Why in the world doesn't she accept him? I'm 
 free to acknowledge that I wouldn't have the 
 courage to refuse, if he asked me." 
 
 " O, Heaven alone knows why she has refused 
 him. The ways of some women are past finding 
 out. She has some powerful reason, and she'll 
 follow what she considers her duty, and wreck 
 both their lives." She raised her hands implor- 
 ingly and continued : " Will Heaven only point 
 out some way to clear up this trouble before Mr. 
 Gary gets away. South America! Now, if it 
 were only Brooklyn or Hoboken where we could 
 run over from New York to see him. But South 
 America ! O ! " 
 
 Mrs. Pendleton was far too shrewd and ob- 
 serving a woman not to understand the motive 
 that influenced Hester. But she was much too 
 wise a woman to pretend to understand her mo- 
 tive, and too true a woman to speak of what she 
 believed. All of which went to prove her a re-
 
 314 Hester Blair 
 
 markable representative of her sex. She knew 
 Hester well, and though she respected her prin- 
 ciples, she did not agree with her judgment in 
 making the sacrifice. The widow knew the 
 world, she knew it well; and she despised it 
 for its hypocritical pretenses. Under her friv- 
 olous exterior were hidden the instincts of a pure, 
 noble-minded woman; yet were she in Hester's 
 place, she would have snapped her fingers at the 
 world, and laughed herself into its good graces. 
 
 As she finished speaking, Captain Edwards 
 came over the brow of the hill. Mrs. Pendleton 
 loved all men, but she loved best the big, brawny, 
 whole-souled type of which Captain Edwards was 
 a specimen. She saw him approaching, and her 
 smile of pleasure, as she ran to meet him, brought 
 a blush to the face of the kindly fisherman. 
 
 " The last victim," said Stevens. 
 
 Mrs. Pendleton held out her hand, " My dear 
 Captain Edwards," she said. 
 
 " Another broken heart," someone exclaimed. 
 " He'll drown himself when she goes. No, he'll 
 take to drink." 
 
 " How good of you to come and see us," Mrs. 
 Pendleton said. 
 
 The captain could not resist her smile. " I 
 hed ter see Slack on a little business," he an- 
 swered. 
 
 The good captain was unfortunate. His eyes 
 betrayed him. It was not Slack he had come to 
 see.
 
 The Morning of the zyth 315 
 
 "He had to see Slack," a guest unfeelingly 
 murmured. 
 
 " Anyhow, we're delighted to see you." Mrs. 
 Pendleton meant it, and her laugh was good to 
 hear. 
 
 " Take care of your heart, Captain," some one 
 suggested. 
 
 He answered Mrs. Pendleton, " Air yer? Well, 
 now ! " 
 
 " Indeed, yes. You're coming to the dance? " 
 
 " It's a long time since " 
 
 " What matters it? " It was her smile that 
 was dangerous. The captain was unwary, she 
 continued : " Don't you think now that we er 
 the Virginia Reel, say? " 
 
 " Well, ef yer think yer ken put up with me for 
 a partner " 
 
 " She's landed him ! " exclaimed Stevens ad- 
 miringly. 
 
 " How kind of you," answered Mrs. Pendleton, 
 " you'll come early? " 
 
 " O, I'll be here on time," he laughed. 
 
 He entered the house in search of Slack. 
 
 " That yacht of Fenton's is a dandy," observed 
 Stevens, who was looking out over the bay. 
 " She's just coming in from outside. She car- 
 ries herself like a swan." 
 
 Mrs. Pendleton's face clouded. She had been 
 happy in the thought that Fenton was away. 
 She could not explain it, but she feared that he 
 meant mischief. She said nothing, and in her
 
 3 1 6 Hester Blair 
 
 customary manner put aside all unpleasant 
 thoughts. No one could remain long in the com- 
 pany gathered there, and think of their own con- 
 cerns; they could not, in fact, think at all, for 
 pandemonium reigned. 
 
 Mrs. Pendleton took advantage of their fun 
 making to slip away unobserved. She had seen 
 John approach and go in the direction of Slack's 
 shanty. She had conceived the praiseworthy idea 
 of straightening out his tangled love affair, and 
 approached him with little ceremony. He was 
 talking to Slack. She beckoned the fisherman 
 to her. " Slack," she said, " leave me alone with 
 Mr. Gary, I want to speak to him." 
 
 Slack surmised her intention. He smiled and 
 went in the direction of the house, " ef anyone," 
 he muttered, " ken bring John an' Hessie ter- 
 gether, that one's th' widder. But I'm afraid 
 she can't fetch it." 
 
 Mrs. Pendleton came to the point at once. Her 
 tantalizing smile gave place to an expression of 
 deep concern. 
 
 " Mr. Gary," she said, " don't think me pre- 
 sumptuous or meddlesome. I can't speak as 
 freely to Hester as I can to you. I realize how 
 things are. Is there no way to bring you to- 
 gether? " 
 
 He smiled sadly, said nothing and shook his 
 head. 
 
 " She loves you," she said, " she idolizes 
 you ! "
 
 The Morning of the 2yth 317 
 
 " I fear not," he answered, " not enough to sac- 
 rifice her opinion." 
 
 " Sacrifice ! " she almost spoke the word aloud. 
 She looked at him, and wondered if a woman 
 lived that would not give all but her honor to this 
 man before her. Her eyes spoke her admiration. 
 
 " Tell me," she said, " is it because of that un- 
 fortunate Featherly affair, and what they say re- 
 garding it." 
 
 " Yes," he answered sadly. 
 
 " I thought so," she said impulsively. " It's 
 just like her. O, if she had only one-half my 
 knowledge of the world, and one ounce of the 
 contempt in which I hold it. Bah ! " 
 
 Her tone was defiant. She could at that mo- 
 ment have given battle to the world single- 
 handed. 
 
 " What can we do, Mr. Gary? I will not re- 
 main passive and see this thing go on. Is there 
 anything that you can suggest? " 
 
 " I fear not," he said, " she is determined." 
 
 Gary had learned to recognize Mrs. Pendle- 
 ton's true worth. He could read human hearts 
 and faces, and he was satisfied that her interest 
 was prompted by her love for Hester. She was 
 the only one whose interference and advice he 
 would tolerate; and he listened to her with a 
 manly courtesy due to her honesty of purpose. 
 
 " Mr. Gary," her voice was low, but there was 
 a look of fixed determination in her eyes : " What 
 I am about to say, I truly believe, and I have some
 
 gi 8 Hester Blair 
 
 ground on which to base my belief. Has it ever 
 occurred to you that Hester might have been 
 married to Mr. Featherly? " 
 
 John started and gazed at her for a full min- 
 ute. 
 
 " No," he answered, " it never has." 
 
 " I believe it," she said quietly, " I don't know 
 why, but I do. It's been my opinion since the 
 night of Featherly's death. I believe that Hes- 
 ter is bound in some w T ay not to reveal the mar- 
 riage. If she has given her word, she would die 
 before she would break it." 
 
 John was almost stunned by Mrs. Pendleton's 
 assertion, and the earnestness with which she 
 spoke. He had never considered such a possi- 
 bility; but as his mind reverted to the night of 
 Featherly's death, it appeared to him now more 
 than possible that Mrs. Pendleton had quessed 
 the truth. But even if it were true how could 
 the knowledge help him? If Hester's reasons for 
 remaining silent were of such a nature that she 
 could have spoken and would not, and have saved 
 her name and the suffering she had endured, how 
 could he expect that she would now break her 
 word. No, if her promise had stood between 
 them, it was still the barrier that he could not 
 overcome, and here the nature of the man came 
 to the surface he would not ask it of her. 
 
 These feelings he explained to Mrs. Pendleton, 
 until interrupted by her. 
 
 " Dear me ! " she exclaimed with some irrita- 
 tion, " you're two simpletons, both of you. Such
 
 The Morning of the 2/th 319 
 
 twiddle-twaddle notions are fit only for school 
 children. Go to her ! Be sensible ! Don't ruin 
 both your lives." 
 
 He smiled at her impetuousness, but shook his 
 head. 
 
 " No," he said, " if what you believe is true, I 
 would not ask her to turn from what she con- 
 siders her duty." 
 
 " In Heaven's name will you both consider 
 what you are about? Here you are going away 
 to some unknown land, and she I tell you she'll 
 fret her heart out. She has some romantic idea 
 about not breaking her promise, and you're more 
 to blame in not going to her, throwing your arms 
 around her neck, making her understand that a 
 whole lifetime of anguish and a promise kept, 
 cannot equal one hour of married bliss." 
 
 She was carried on by the intensity of her feel- 
 ings and, as she looked at him, tall, handsome, 
 with the manly bearing that women lovej she be- 
 lieved every word she said ; and a sigh, eloquent 
 in the consciousness of her own unmated loneli- 
 ness, escaped her. 
 
 Further conversation was made impossible for 
 the time being. Someone discovered Mrs. Pen- 
 dleton talking with John, and, protesting that 
 they would not countenance her designs on him, 
 dragged her away. Besides, the dance-board 
 had just been completed in the orchard, and they 
 wished her to inspect it. They had, however, 
 already pronounced it " too lovely for any- 
 thing."
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 " 'TWILL REMIND ME HOW WELL i LOVED YOU " 
 
 When them art gone, dear friend, when far away 
 I'll think the more of what thou art to me. 
 
 Thy portrait in my heart will live alway; 
 Entwined about it, love's sweet memory. 
 
 SALLY PITTS had not forgotten the party. 
 Long before preparations had begun, she 
 could tell the exact number of weeks and 
 days to the event. She could tell, without an 
 effort at consulting her memory, the exact num-. 
 ber of persons present at Ethel's last birthday 
 party, and here numbers vanished into a mist 
 and became only a vague memory. 
 
 Neither had Sally Pitts been forgotten. She 
 fondled caressingly an album given her by Ethel, 
 in which were her own, Hester's, and John's 
 portraits. Hester was putting the finishing 
 touches to a new dress, and had sent for Sally to 
 try it on. When she entered the sitting room 
 where Hester was at work, and saw r the pink and 
 white creation, she exclaimed loudly and pro- 
 tested that it was much too beautiful to wear. 
 But her fingers trembled with joy, and Hester 
 helped her to remove her old faded dress, which 
 Millie had made after the pattern of one she had 
 
 320
 
 " How Well I Loved You " 321 
 
 worn herself, and of a style long in disuse before 
 gaily was born. The dress removed, the long, 
 slender arms, the bones of the neck and shoul- 
 ders almost forced through the tightly drawn 
 flesh, which was a dull marble color and appar- 
 ently bloodless, filled Hester with a shuddering 
 pity. She kissed the child, and patted her gently. 
 Sally laughed gleefully and declared that she 
 was " just ashamed, she was so skinny." 
 
 Hester took in her hand the little bag attached 
 to a ribbon that Sally wore around her neck and 
 wondered what it contained but even a child's 
 secrets are to be respected, and she said nothing. 
 A shock of trembling expectancy seized upon 
 Sally, and her heart tood still, for what seemed 
 to her, countless ages. " Why didn't Hessie ask 
 what was in the bag? " But Hester smiled, un- 
 conscious of what she held in her hand, and fitted 
 on the new dress. 
 
 The mirror reflected a thing of beauty, front 
 and rear, flounces and frills. Sally was in a 
 quandary whether to laugh or cry at what she 
 saw there ; but the sight of her album stilled her 
 emotions and she sat beside Hester to dilate upon 
 the beauty it contained. 
 
 " Isn't John handsome? " she exclaimed, hold- 
 ing the album before her. Which womanly ex- 
 pression proved a discernment far in advance of 
 her years. 
 
 " Yes," answered Hester, " and as good as he 
 is handsome."
 
 322 Hester Blair 
 
 " Don't you love him, Miss Hester? " 
 
 " Indeed I do, Sally dear." A soft light shone 
 in Hester's eyes, that deepened as she heard a 
 step cross the dining-room floor, pausing at the 
 threshold of the room where they were sitting, 
 their backs to the door. 
 
 Sally scanned the portrait with a critical gaze. 
 " Hasn't he lovely eyes? " she asked. 
 
 " Em ! Just a little squint, it seems to 
 me." 
 
 "Do you think so?" the child asked, looking 
 up into her companion's face. 
 
 " Yes, I think so." 
 
 Sally held the album before her and turned 
 her head to one side. " I don't think so." Then 
 after a moment's pause " and his forehead is so 
 high." 
 
 " Let me see," Hester said. She took the album 
 and studied the picture intently. " Not a very 
 intellectual forehead, Sally. Quite the contrary. 
 Em! very common-place." 
 
 " Do you think so? " 
 
 " Yes," Hester replied, handing the album 
 back, " quite ordinary." 
 
 Sally was perplexed but not convinced, " and 
 his mouth is so beautiful when he smiles? " she 
 said. 
 
 " A weak mouth, Sally. See, the lines about 
 his mouth show weakness." 
 
 Sally's face betrayed that her opinion of the 
 mouth was still unchanged, She dearly wished
 
 " How Well I Loved You " 323 
 
 to find some feature that they could agree upon. 
 Ah ! she had discovered it. 
 
 " Hasn't he lovely hair? " 
 
 She waited in gloating anticipation. Surely 
 nothing could be said against the hair, that had 
 just a little wave in it to bring out the gloss. 
 
 " Well," came the condescending reply, " If it 
 weren't for the color. It's a sort of neutral color. 
 But then, most everyone has lovely hair, Sally." 
 
 " I think he's just beautiful," was Sally's pro- 
 nounced opinion. 
 
 " O just passable, Sally. Just passable." 
 
 The child looked up quickly. There was a 
 quizzical expression mingled with doubt in her 
 eyes. " But you said you loved him, Miss Hes- 
 ter," she said. 
 
 The figure in the doorway started. 
 
 " Did I, Sally? " Hester's tone was incredu- 
 lous. Then as a sort of compromise, " Well, per- 
 haps I did, but we must love all our friends, 
 Sally." 
 
 A step behind her moved Sally to look around. 
 
 " O John," she said, " why didn't you come 
 sooner and hear what we said about your pic- 
 ture?" 
 
 " Perhaps I can guess," he said with a smile. 
 " Eyes with a distinct squint, " Sally's eyes 
 sought Hester's in a surprised look " weak 
 mouth, receding forehead, not at all intellectual 
 quite the contrary, hair of no color at all, 
 and"
 
 324 Hester Blair 
 
 " O, I don't believe Miss Hester meant a word 
 of it. But that isn't all she said " 
 
 " Sally, Sally ! " Hester exclaimed reprovingly. 
 
 " Well, I'm going to the kitchen and tell Aunt 
 Millie." 
 
 In an endeavor to see the new dress from all 
 points of view, she nearly stumbled in going in 
 search of Millie. 
 
 " Hester," John said, leaning over the rocking 
 chair in which she sat, " How do you like the 
 word-picture? " 
 
 " The word-picture will fade into the mist of 
 nothingness: your portrait will live when you 
 are gone." 
 
 He leaned over the back of the chair and 
 pressed his cheek lightly to hers. 
 
 'Twill be a reminder that you once loved me," 
 he said. 
 
 " 'Twill remind me only of how well I love 
 you." 
 
 " Hester," he said gently, " if time should 
 change your answer, and you can view things 
 differently, will you send for me? " 
 
 " John, I can give you no hope. Can the pain 
 an unkind word occasions ever be recalled? All 
 the science in the world cannot restore the bloom 
 of a faded flower, nor yet can the sun's warmth 
 bring back life to the buds that have been nipped 
 by the frost. Once a doubt is cast upon a 
 woman's name, it follows her, shadow-like. Try 
 to forget, John dear, try to forget."
 
 " How Well I Loved You " 325 
 
 He did not answer, but walked to the window 
 and looked out at the group on the lawn. 
 
 Ethel came to the open window. She scanned 
 his countenance disapprovingly. 
 
 " Now, John Gary, can you give me any rea- 
 sonable excuse for wearing such a forlorn look 
 on my birthday? " 
 
 " No, Mistress Ethel," with an attempt at a 
 laugh. " Eh faith ! I cannot, unless I was think- 
 ing that after to-morrow I would not have any- 
 one to torment." 
 
 " After to-morrow ! " she exclaimed, " you're 
 not going so soon? I won't have it !" 
 
 " Looks so," he said, " In three days I shall be 
 sailing, sailing on the ocean blue," he sang. 
 ' " Hester, do you hear that? and you sit there 
 as unmoved as if he were only going down to the 
 wharf." 
 
 Hester heard. She smiled. " Never mind, 
 Ethel. After all, it's good to have your friends 
 go away; they can write and tell you all about 
 things, and what a grand time they are having. 
 One always thinks more of one's friends 
 when they are not with them. You'll write, 
 John?" 
 
 " Of course," he replied. 
 
 " By the way, John dear," Hester said, " will 
 you be here for the opening of the dance? " 
 
 " Of course," he answered, " how many dances 
 will you give me? " 
 
 " As many as you ask for," she answered.
 
 326 Hester Blair 
 
 Ethel interposed, " Now Hessie, that's not fair ! 
 It's my birthday, and John should dance with 
 me, at least, part of the time." 
 
 John smiled, " So I shall, Ethy dear, if you 
 will kindly dislodge those wrinkles from your 
 forehead, for its alabaster surface was never 
 meant to be disfigured by them. So," he brushed 
 her forehead lightly with his hand, " now chase 
 away that semblance of a pout from the corners 
 of those ruby red lips, so," he kissed her on the 
 lips and laughed. 
 
 " There John Gary, you're horrid." 
 
 " I know I am," he laughed, " and I feel like a 
 thief. Here, I'll give it back." 
 
 Millie fluttered into the room in a state of 
 nervous excitement, She appeared as if border- 
 ing on a collapse, but was, in fact, far from it. 
 She was in a state of rapturous flustration. She 
 had a thousand and one things to do, but refused 
 help from one and all alike. She said that she 
 could not possibly have everything ready on time, 
 and was inw r ardly conscious and certain that 
 everything, to the last finishing touches to the 
 table, would be ready. She fumed and fretted, 
 but withal was in a state of delight bordering on 
 frenzy, for that she had something real and tan- 
 gible to fret about. 
 
 " There, Hessie, I've got the last pie baked, 
 and in the pantry a coolin'. The frostin' on th' 
 ribbon cake couldn't be better, leastwise I 
 couldn't make it so ; and the sponge cake's in the
 
 " How Well I Loved You " 327 
 
 oven. If thet cake falls, I'll be ashamed ever ter 
 show niy face in the village agin." 
 
 " Don't fret, Millie dear," Hessie said, " your 
 reputation as a cook is secure." 
 
 " Sally Hopkins' goin' ter help me ter set th' 
 table; an' Hessie, of all things! Myria Blindy 
 Gates a goin' ter wear thet pink dress she wore to 
 Ann Prouty's weddin'. Her aunt used ter wear 
 it when I was a young girl. Myria hed it made 
 over, an' she wears it every time she gets half a 
 chance. I've got my opinion of Myria, an' / call 
 her a bold piece. Ethy dear, come with me and 
 take a peek at the sponge cake. Ef it's fell 
 well there! " 
 
 With a gesture of despair she fluttered back 
 to the kitchen, followed by Ethel. 
 
 Following the sound of hammering, Bill Blake 
 came upon the industrious Slack, putting the fin- 
 ishing touches to the band-stand. He paused 
 and grinned. 
 
 " Hello, Bill. Gosh ! got on a biled shirt ! " 
 
 Bill's mouth spread in a smile, self-conscious 
 of his splendor. 
 
 " None er yer dern jokes now, Slacky. Yer 
 needn't think yer goin' ter do all the mashin' ter 
 day. Ther be others ken discount yer on looks. 
 Say, Fenton's sneakin' round down in th' vil- 
 lage. Wonder ef he's plannin' on comin' ter th' 
 party?" 
 
 " D'know," answered Slack, " ef he's wise, he 
 won't."
 
 328 
 
 Hester Blair 
 
 " He, he," laughed Bill, " Wonder ef he'd like 
 another ride? " 
 
 Slack remained silent. 
 
 " Ther's an old gent ben down ter th' parson- 
 age sense th' mornin' train got in, examinin' th' 
 books as were saved from th' fire. Has one o' 
 them magnifyin' glasses. Wonder what he's up 
 ter? 
 
 " O, he's one o' them cranks, pVaps, as write 
 fer th' newspapers." Slack's hammer came down 
 on the boards viciously. " Look here, Bill ! " he 
 said, " ef Fenton tries ter cut up any shines here 
 ter day " he paused and looked at Bill, " well 
 he won't, that's all." Bill grinned and nodded 
 his approval. 
 
 " Slack Dorkins." The call came from the 
 house. Slack dropped his hammer, and Bill was 
 left alone. 
 
 Mrs. Pendleton was ill at ease. The love affair 
 of one of her protege's promised to bear fruit be- 
 fore the sun set. She had Slack trained to a 
 point where further rehearsing seemed but a 
 waste of time. He carried himself with the bear- 
 ing of a man who already tastes the sweets of 
 victory. He smiled condescendingly on the world 
 at large; but tempered his smile with a tender 
 meaning when he met " the widder." But de- 
 spair seemed to wait on her efforts in John's be- 
 half. She could brave a man, could talk to John 
 as if he were a boy; but she hesitated to broach
 
 " How Well I Loved You" 329 
 
 the subject uppermost in her mind to Hester, 
 who, smilingly complacent, appeared the calmest 
 of the members of the household. She was an 
 enigma to Mrs. Pendleton, who could not wholly 
 understand her. But she was satisfied that Hes- 
 ter's tranquillity was assumed, and that behind it 
 her heart was heavy with sorrow. But no word 
 escaped Hester, and Mrs. Pendleton, from her 
 experience with her in New York, knew that 
 she could not be approached with offers of advice 
 or sympathy. She was, however, a determined 
 little woman. In her experience, the wormwood 
 of defeat was still to be tasted. She sought the 
 bench on the bluff, which seemed especially de- 
 signed for lovers and lovers' confidences. The 
 reader may judge of the logic of her reasoning, 
 by the following, addressed, apparently, to the 
 waves, that chattered in all kinds of languages at 
 the foot of the cliff. 
 
 " If Hester and Featherly were married, what 
 was the occasion for the secrecy? If it weren't 
 on her account, then it must have been on his. 
 Em ! " a long drawn out exclamation. " Feath- 
 erly's father's second marriage was disastrous. 
 The world knows him as a woman hater. I knew 
 him to be a polished gentleman, with one beset- 
 ting sin, an idolatrous love for Ralph, and a 
 fear that he would marry. Why isn't it probable 
 that Hester, knowing this, made some kind of a 
 promise not to betray the marriage while the
 
 330 Hester Blair 
 
 father lived. She never considered the possibil- 
 ity of Ralph's death. When he was dying he 
 tried to tell something to his father." 
 
 She thought long and deeply. The laughter of 
 the guests from the house brought a frown to her 
 face that was not at all becoming. " The mag- 
 pies ! " she said. She tried to look very savage. 
 She did not succeed. " Why can't they keep 
 quiet and let me think? " People said that she 
 never had a serious thought in her life. They 
 were mistaken. That much quoted element of 
 society, designated " the people," almost always 
 is mistaken. For out of a bewildering array of 
 ideas, suggestions, conjectures and resolutions, 
 this very sage and fixed resolve she whispered to 
 the sea: "I believe it; and I'll act upon it. 
 Before John gets away I'll see Ralph's father, if 
 I have to go to New York to clear up this affair." 
 
 At that moment the gentleman in question was 
 scanning the partly burned, and much defaced 
 records in the village parsonage. But this she 
 did not know.
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 LOVE'S REWARD 
 
 To them that wait, to them that trust, 
 
 Their faith unyielding, firm, entire, 
 To them there comes, as come it must, 
 
 The fullness of the heart's desire. 
 By weight and measure fair and true, 
 
 Doth time to them, stern justice yield; 
 To them such meed as is their due; 
 
 To them the power that victors wield. 
 
 It matters not what stand between; 
 
 It matters not the Fates delay: 
 The hand of destiny unseen 
 
 Is guiding us upon our way. 
 Bide, then, thy time be staunch, be true; 
 
 Mayhap good Fortune tarries late. 
 Be ready when it calls to you, 
 
 And answering, cry, come thou, I wait. 
 
 ( A BE there many men coming? " 
 
 \ Mrs. Pendleton looked her loveliest 
 
 -JL in a jaunty sailor hat around which was 
 loosely coiled a band of white tulle, that fell in 
 streamers from the brim. The plainness of her 
 white duck suit was relieved by a bunch of roses 
 that was fastened to her corsage. Dainty, nar- 
 row pointed tan shoes completed her costume. 
 But it was the trim figure, the smooth round 
 
 331
 
 332 Hester Blair 
 
 cheeks browned by the sun and sea air, and the 
 bluest of blue eyes that ever gladdened a lover's 
 heart, or brought despair to a luckless suitor 
 and there had -been many that made your heart- 
 beats quicken; and you were glad to look 
 at her; for it made you feel at peace with 
 yourself and the world, and reconciled you to 
 much that was unpleasant. She had the power 
 all the more potent because of its unconscious- 
 ness of making you believe in things ; anyhow, 
 of believing in Mrs. Pendleton while you were 
 with her. There was a genuineness about her 
 as rare as it was exhilarating: a freshness, a 
 cleanness of heart and of mind that was reflected 
 in the eyes that met yours in a frank, fearless 
 gaze. 
 
 Her pupil, strong in the newly acquired art of 
 the modern love chase, looked at her with ill-con- 
 cealed admiration. 
 
 " I've engaged two or three partners fer yer," 
 he said. 
 
 Millie sniffed the air disdainfully. " Some 
 folks are as silly as some others," she said. 
 
 This remark was of so general a nature that 
 no one seemed inclined to claim the honor of in- 
 viting it. 
 
 " So good of you, Mr. Dorkins," Mrs. Pendle- 
 ton's voice was tenderly appreciative. " I trust 
 they can all dance as well as you. I shall never 
 forget the beauty of the Chorus Jig that yon 
 danced for us in New York."
 
 Love's Reward 333 
 
 Slack was seized with a paroxysm of coughing. 
 He flashed a danger signal of warning at Mrs, 
 Pendleton. 
 
 Millie's eyes shot fiery gleams, but her voice 
 was sweetly solicitous as she asked : 
 
 " Hedn't yer better hev a little balsam fer thet 
 cough, Slacky? " 
 
 " Guess I won't need it now, Millie, thank 
 yer. You were a sayin', Mrs. Pendleton O yes, 
 'bout the dance. The first set's Millie's." He 
 glanced timidly at her. She was looking into 
 space, and her lips formed the words, " Chorus 
 Jig." He cast a hurried, troubled look at Mrs. 
 Pendleton. Her eyes reassuring him, he con- 
 tinued : " The second set, ef yer're not en- 
 gaged " 
 
 " I shall be delighted," she answered. " Do 
 you know, it was only yesterday that I heard 
 Miss Gates speaking of how well you danced." 
 
 " Miss Gates," echoed Millie. She said no 
 more. The look she cast at Slack proclaimed her 
 unspoken opinion. 
 
 He winced, but Mrs. Pendleton whipped up 
 his courage with a look. 
 
 " O, you mean Myria Belinda? " he said. 
 
 " Yes, charming young person," Mrs. Pendle- 
 ton observed, " a quaint individuality." 
 
 " Emm ! " this from Millie. 
 
 " O yes," said Slack, " she's very individual. 
 She hed a good bit er property left ter her. Her 
 Uncle Ed. died year er so ago, an' left Myria
 
 334 Hester Blair 
 
 pretty well fixed. O, she's right up an' around, 
 Myria is." 
 
 " Ah, Mr. Dorkins, I fancied she was more than 
 an ordinary acquaintance. O you men! you 
 men ! One never can tell." 
 
 Millie didn't speak, but her look plainly said 
 that she refused to consider Myria even re- 
 motely. 
 
 " Will yer go an' fix yerself up, Slack Dor- 
 kins? It's nigh on ter three o'clock an' th' folks 
 '11 soon begin ter come." 
 
 She followed him into the house. Mrs. Pen- 
 dleton turned to John who approached. 
 
 " Mr. Gary, tell me ! have you spoken to Hes- 
 ter? " 
 
 " I have seen her," he replied, " but did not 
 speak to her of what you said. It would do no 
 good." 
 
 " How can you tell? You are like two roman- 
 tic school girls. I've no patience with you. This 
 much is certain : you're not going to South Amer- 
 ica if I can stop you. Anyway, you're not going 
 alone. Heaven deliver us from the twaddle that 
 fills young lovers' minds. Both of you should be 
 spanked, and put on bread and water till you 
 come to your senses." 
 
 " My dear Mrs. Pendleton, you don't know " 
 
 " Don't know her ! Don't I know that she's 
 eating her heart out because you are going; and 
 allowing some foolish notion to stand in the way
 
 Love's Reward 335 
 
 of her life happiness and yours? Don't know 
 her, indeed ! " 
 
 Confidences for that day were at an end. It 
 lacked but a few minutes of three o'clock, and 
 young Stevens led the shout that heralded the 
 coming of the villagers. 
 
 They came, singly and in pairs, radiant with 
 smiles, and colors that rivaled the flower be- 
 sprinkled fields. They were in goodly number, 
 for the prejudice of the good people had given 
 way before the prospect of Millie's feast, and the 
 very human desire that other eyes than their own 
 should behold their finery, startling in its unique- 
 ness, and daring in its originality. Their flower- 
 bedecked hats nodded in the summer breeze, as if 
 conscious of a seasoned knowledge, and with the 
 familiarity of ripened age: for they had long 
 done duty, and still bloomed in faded loveliness. 
 Their wearers, gowned in flounces and frills, am- 
 bled joyfully along, conscious only of the admir- 
 ing glances directed at themselves. They were 
 there to conquer hearts, and who could withstand 
 their charms, which seemed to shame the flowers 
 by comparison? Who indeed! 
 
 And their male companions? The costumes 
 that became their rough, manly homeliness, 
 which was not without charm, they had dis- 
 carded; and they burdened themselves with an 
 attempt at gentility that was clumsily ridiculous, 
 but pathetic in its self-consciousness. They were
 
 336 Hester Blair 
 
 not a bad lot, nor were they ill-looking; but the 
 better part of their nature fretted and protested 
 that, in their case, clothes did not make or fit 
 the man. They had disfigured themselves with 
 white, home-laundered shirts, whose fronts 
 starched to a rigid stiffness irritated them. 
 They were ill at ease in their " store clothes," 
 and their grease-soaked boots gave evidence of 
 having lately resisted an attempt at polish- 
 ing. 
 
 The " Commodore " was attired in her custom- 
 ary print dress, and, when she didn't look dis- 
 approval at the fantastically colored and shaped 
 costumes of her neighbors, she was authorita- 
 tively self-contained. She smiled benignly on 
 her companions, and told them, with the utmost 
 good-nature, that she considered them " a set of 
 giddy little fools." No one cared to dispute her, 
 and they complacently tittered among them- 
 selves. 
 
 They straggled up the hill and were met by the 
 guests with smiles of welcome. Slack stood be- 
 fore the house ready to receive them. Then it 
 was that the merry-makers tasted their first sur- 
 prised joy, for it was not often that their eyes 
 were gladdened by the sight of Slack, arrayed as 
 they now beheld him. His best suit embraced 
 the plum-colored waistcoat and flaming cravat, 
 which had elicited exclamations of awed admira- 
 tion from the guests at the Featherly mansion. 
 These he wore with a recklessness that was in
 
 Love's Reward 337 
 
 keeping with his crowning glory his hair. He 
 had made no effort to comb it, and they felt, when 
 they beheld him, that he was still their Slack; 
 that even his costume, effulgent though it was, 
 could not disguise him ; and they loved him the 
 more. 
 
 He led the way, and waved them on to the 
 orchard, where the dance-board had been erected. 
 Millie and Ethel followed with the members of 
 the household, chatting their delight and boister- 
 ously happy. Mrs. Pendleton brought up the 
 rear, her face wreathed in a triumphant smile. 
 She awaited developments. They unrolled them- 
 selves without warning. The star of her pupil 
 was in the ascendant. With a now or never look 
 he turned to the wearer of the pink dress : 
 
 " Myria Belinda Gates, yer jest lookin' out er 
 sight ! " Slack accompanied the declaration with 
 a coquettish chuckle under Myria's chin that 
 made that young lady the term is here used in 
 deference to the pink gown toss her head, and 
 turn the color of the gorgeous ribbons that 
 adorned her angular form. Gasping with pleas- 
 ure, she protested : " You git out, Slack Dor- 
 kins!" 
 
 But Slack had no such intention. He took 
 Myria's hand in his own and looked unutterably 
 happy. In his excess of emotion, he managed to 
 say with a sigh, faltering but love burdened: 
 " the sight o' yer makes me feel twenty years 
 younger."
 
 338 Hester Blair 
 
 Myria cooed with pleasure, and her heart 
 fluttered like a dove caught on the wing. 
 
 Mrs. Pendleton smiled with pride. " He's an 
 artist," she whispered. 
 
 But Millie she glared at him, and wondered 
 if she were awake. How did he dare? This 
 man ! Hers ! standing there before her very eyes, 
 and holding the hand of that bold huzzy, who 
 was tittering in an ecstasy of delight. 
 
 " Slack Dorkins ! " she almost screamed the 
 name. But Slack did not hear. He had a smile 
 and a handshake for all; a tender word for the 
 fair flowers of the village; then returned to 
 Myria, and his eyes said to her many and beauti- 
 ful things. 
 
 Millie was rooted to the ground. Surprise had 
 given place to amazement, and angry resentment 
 was struggling within her. Seth Binks ap- 
 proached. He stood between Millie and the ob- 
 ject of her wrath. She tried to look over his 
 shoulder, and he danced before her trying to in- 
 vite her notice. 
 
 " Millie," said Binks, " I" 
 
 " Slack Dorkins, do you hear? " There was 
 no mistaking the tone. It was a command ; but 
 it told of annoyance beyond the power of woman 
 to bear. 
 
 Slack was deaf to all but Myria's voice, and 
 blind to all save the eyes that looked trustingly 
 into his own. Mrs. Pendleton nodded her ap- 
 proval. Things in her world couldn't be going
 
 Love's Reward 339 
 
 better. Binks made another attempt to interest 
 Millie. She couldn't look through him, so she 
 pivoted from one side of his bulky form to the 
 other in her endeavor to see her unheeding lord, 
 who was absorbed in the contemplation of the 
 color of Myria's eyes. 
 
 " I were about to say, Millie " began Binks. 
 
 But she didn't heed him, neither did she see 
 him. There were but two people in Millie's 
 world at that moment. One of them wore a pink 
 dress; the other looked with love-lorn fervor at 
 the wearer of that hateful dress, and smiled. 
 
 Millie switched her skirts about. She looked 
 away from Slack and Myria and arranged her 
 dress nervously. This was something that she 
 could not and would not put up with. Then 
 someone giggled. The giggle became contagious ; 
 the laugh developed into a roar ; and arms, heads 
 and bodies danced in unison to the music of their 
 voices. Millie turned her head. Yes, they were 
 still deep in smiling confidences; and Myria's 
 hand was in Slack's. This was too much. There 
 was a limit even to her endurance. Of course 
 she didn't care, but that pink-gowned huzzy 
 should be taught well she'd see. 
 
 " Myria Belinda Gates, I'd jest hev yer under- 
 stand " 
 
 But Myria was oblivious of all else but the man 
 before her. Millie would have them know then 
 and there that she would have no such exhibition. 
 She was determined, and her carriage was ma-
 
 340 
 
 Hester Blair 
 
 jestic as she approached the pair, who were too 
 absorbed in each other to notice the scornful 
 glance that she fixed upon them. She walked 
 forward quickly. Then, taking hold of the arm 
 of the inconstant Slack, and tearing him away 
 from the blushing Myria, she led him to where 
 she had been standing. A hush of expectancy set- 
 tled on the assembly. Something was going to 
 happen. Millie wasted neither words nor time. 
 
 " Slack Dorkins, what d'yer mean by this er 
 flirtin'?" 
 
 " I've waited fer yer fer th' past twenty years," 
 he said, " an' I'm gettin' tired er waitin'. I'm 
 not so young as I wer', but I'm young 'nough ter 
 feel frisky when the gals come around. Time I 
 wer' gettin' married, Millie, an' I don't get much 
 encouragement from you." 
 
 " Well I swan ! Slack Dorkins, yer jest 
 take my breath away ! " 
 
 He looked at her quizzically. 
 
 " 'Tain't so sudden as it might be. I've ben 
 askin' yer fer th' past twenty years." 
 
 " Well, I want yer ter understand one thing, 
 Slacky, I ain't goin' ter let no one else hev yer." 
 
 He might be forgiven for the chuckle that pre- 
 ceded his words. 
 
 " Then it's yes, Millie? " 
 
 She cast a withering glance at the wearer of 
 the pink dress. 
 
 " Well," she said, " I'll jest marry yer ter keep
 
 Love's Reward 341 
 
 yer from gettin' in ter wuss hands. No one 
 else'd know how ter take keer er yer." 
 
 It was only a glance that passed between Mrs. 
 Pendleton and the man who beamed upon his 
 friends and the world with a look of idiotic de- 
 light. To Slack was flashed a congratulatory, 
 " good for you ; " his eyes conveyed the response, 
 that said almost audibly : " I tell yer." Even 
 Millie could not intercept the look, and only 
 teacher and pupil understood its meaning. 
 
 The orchestra a violin and a bass viol was 
 tuning up, the complaining tones of the instru- 
 ments persistently refusing to conform to a uni- 
 form pitch. The violin, with reckless disregard 
 for its companion, established a pitch that in- 
 vited disintegration and discord, and squeaked 
 a challenge to the more lumbersome member of 
 the family to follow its lead. The bass viol 
 groaned disapprovingly and labored, like a small 
 boat in a heavy sea, to climb to the giddy heights 
 of its aristocratic tone leader. It strained la- 
 mentingly and, refusing to risk its own anatomy, 
 sank, with resigned squeaks, a quarter of a tone 
 below the pitch of the violin, and awaited, with 
 tense drawn strings, the disruption of its daring 
 dictator. 
 
 The leader of the band, with a wave of his 
 fiddle-bow, commanded attention : 
 
 " Ladies and gents, take yer partners for the 
 Virginia Reel. Mr. Slack Dorkins will lead off
 
 342 Hester Blair 
 
 with the future Mrs. Slack Dorkins, who comes 
 nigh ter bein' th' best cook 'n housekeeper in this 
 yer county." 
 
 A roar of applause greeted this delicate com- 
 pliment to Millie; and proved the speaker's 
 knowledge and judgment of cooking far in ad- 
 vance of that diviner, but less satisfying art 
 music. A poor cook can elicit more soul-stirring 
 discords than the worst musician that ever lived. 
 The guests formed for the dance and the band 
 after a final attempt at tuning up began. 
 
 With a flourish and a bow, Slack went down 
 the center, and as he returned, cast a scowling 
 look of disapproval at the leader of the band. 
 The music was not to his liking. Slack turned 
 and pivoted, balanced and swung the next, and 
 kept time to the discordant music, the players 
 wrestling for supremacy in a deadly duel of 
 sound. 
 
 Millie, not to be outdone, tripped off the fig- 
 ures with the agility of a girl in her teens. Hes- 
 ter and John watched the dancers with eager and 
 admiring interest, and joined in the applause 
 that greeted the dancing efforts of Slack and his 
 partner. They finished the figure, and a second 
 couple took their turn. 
 
 With a wave of his arm Slack called to the 
 intrepid leader of the band. 
 
 " Hi, Jake, yer fiddle ain't within a row of 
 apple trees er being in tune. What's the matter 
 with er? "
 
 Love's Reward 343 
 
 This was a reflection on Jake's musical ability, 
 and he resented it. He stopped playing and 
 stood up. The bass viol boomed on alone, and 
 the player, spurred on to extra exertion, per- 
 formed most remarkable feats with his bow. Of 
 melody, there was none; but he ground out the 
 time, and the dancers responded with their feet. 
 
 " Come down here," yelled Slack to the irate 
 Jake, " Millie'll give yer a few pints on dancin', 
 an' I'll show yer a trick er two in fiddlin'." 
 
 Jake accepted the challenge, and Slack took 
 his place beside the bass player. He adjusted 
 the strings of the violin to the pitch of the bass 
 viol, and dashed into the music of the old-time 
 country dance in perfect tune with the bass. Not 
 content with the simple melody, he added em- 
 bellishments and variations of his own, and 
 played up and down and across the strings with 
 double stops, chords and frills, and even Millie, 
 overcome by the exhibition, vowed she wouldn't 
 have believed it ; and the dance came to an end. 
 
 Mrs. Bagly seemed anxious. 
 
 " Ther'll be an awful time," she remarked to a 
 neighbor, " when Mr. Fenton gets here." 
 
 " D'yer think he'll come? " her companion 
 asked. 
 
 " I heered him say down ter th' store thet he 
 wer' a comin'." 
 
 " O, I do hope ther* won't be no trouble." 
 
 "Serves Hessie right!" Mrs.. Bagly looked 
 virtuously indignant. " She'd no business tryin'
 
 344 Hester Blair 
 
 ter fool us all this time. / knowed it from th> 
 fust." 
 
 The dancers were forming for the cotillion. 
 Slack was receiving Mrs. Pendleton's congratula- 
 tions; and Millie was looking askance at the 
 wearer of the pink dress. Fenton walked lei- 
 surely up the hill and paused in front of the dan- 
 cers. 
 
 " My good friends," he said, " I have not been 
 invited. When I knew Miss Blair in New 
 York" 
 
 His voice was drowned by the threatening ex- 
 clamations which arose from the men. 
 
 Mr. Featherly had approached unnoticed, and 
 walking forward quickly, stood before Fenton 
 just as John was about to rush toward him. 
 
 " Mr. Featherly ! " John and Hester spoke the 
 name at the same moment. 
 
 The color left Hester's cheek and she stood mo- 
 tionless, her eyes fixed on the old man's face. He 
 held up his hand to restrain John, then turned 
 to Fenton, who seemed overcome with astonish- 
 ment. 
 
 " Stop," Featherly said to John, " before I an- 
 swer him, allow me to make a statement. Miss 
 Blair," he said turning to Hester, " I recently 
 discovered among my son's private papers, evi- 
 dence that he had been married while he lived 
 in Norton. I have here the church records. I 
 can decipher his name on a partly burned page,
 
 
 "I I cannot say."
 
 Love's Reward 345 
 
 but the name of his wife is wholly destroyed. 
 Can you tell me whose it is? " 
 
 A wave of emotion swept over Hester, leaving 
 her face colorless. She tried to speak, but the 
 words seemed to die on her parched tongue. The 
 eyes of the villagers were fixed upon her face, and 
 they waited, breathless and silent, for her an- 
 swer. She looked about her in a vacant manner. 
 The faces seemed to swim in a sea of mist before 
 her eyes, until, with an effort, her gaze came 
 back to the face of the old man, who was stand- 
 ing in a waiting attitude. She made an attempt 
 to speak and paused; then, shaking her head, 
 uttered in a feeble voice : 
 
 " I I cannot say." 
 
 A jeering laugh from Fenton broke the spell 
 that had settled on the villagers. They started, 
 and looked at him. 
 
 " What a pity ! " he said sneeringly. " If Miss 
 Blair only could have had a marriage certificate. 
 That's a very necessary requisite when there is* 
 a marriage. Too bad ! " 
 
 In the life of every human being there is some 
 moment when they enter the domain of manhood 
 or womanhood. It may be at a time of extreme 
 peril, of some unforeseen emergency arising; or 
 of some acute joy or overwhelming sorrow, when 
 they emerge from childhood, and discover a 
 power within them, whose secret growth had 
 been so slow and still, that they were unconscious
 
 346 Hester Blair 
 
 of it, and were startled at its sudden awakening. 
 It came to Sally Pitts at that instant, and, af- 
 frighted at her own importance, with eyes bulg- 
 ing from their sockets, she stood before Mr. 
 Featherly a woman. 
 
 Sally fumbled at the ribbon about her neck, 
 and with a vigorous pull, it snapped, and she 
 held in her hand a little bag. She looked about 
 her in a startled way, but no thought ever crossed 
 her mind to hesitate, or to swerve from her pur- 
 pose. The time had come for her to speak, and 
 speak she would, even though the whole world 
 stood still to listen. She cast a half-frightened 
 look at Hester and spoke, slowly and distinctly. 
 She was not Sally Pitts, the little cripple, she 
 was Miss Sally Pitts and she would be heard, 
 and of those who were surprised, none were more 
 so than her father. 
 
 " Here is the certificate," she said, taking the 
 paper out of the bag. " I saw Miss Hessie drop 
 it in the church. I was there and I picked it up. 
 I was afraid to tell her. I saw her get married 
 to Mr. Featherly, and I was so frightened and 
 I I" 
 
 Sally got no further. Hester's arms were 
 around her neck and they were both crying to- 
 gether and rocking to and fro. Myria Belinda 
 Gates could not find her handkerchief, and re- 
 sorted to one corner of her pink over-skirt, which 
 she stuffed into her eyes. Mrs. Bagly sniffled,
 
 Love's Reward 347 
 
 whether from joy or sorrow, will never be known. 
 Between her tears she managed to gasp : 
 
 " There, Sary Dunn, I allus said as how I knew 
 Hessie was as innocent as a babe." 
 
 Hester was kneeling beside Sally. Mr. Feath- 
 erly raised her gently. 
 
 " My daughter, can you forgive me? " 
 
 " It is easy to forgive you," Hester replied, 
 " for I have never blamed you." 
 
 " Why did you remain silent so long? " 
 
 " I had given my promise." 
 
 " A sort of family reunion as it were," sneered 
 Fenton. " Sorry I can't remain for the love- 
 feast," 
 
 " Sir," replied Mr. Featherly, " I know you 
 now for what you are. We want no trouble here 
 to-day." 
 
 Fenton turned to leave. " Au revoir," he said 
 with a smile. 
 
 " My dear Fenton, nothing like being in at the 
 finish." 
 
 It was Mrs. Pendleton's voice. It was not like 
 her to say it, but she should be forgiven. 
 
 Mr. Featherly turned to John : 
 
 " Mr. Gary, your uncle, whom I have known 
 for the past forty years, tells me that you are 
 going to South America. Hester, my daughter, 
 I know John's story. Will you let him go? " 
 
 John did not speak but looked into her eyes. 
 She laid her hand on his arm.
 
 348 Hester Blair 
 
 " John," she said, " will you go? " 
 " No," he replied, " not if you wish me to re- 
 main." 
 " I do," she answered. 
 
 The stars twinkled knowingly, and the unob- 
 servant moon sailed away into unknown realms 
 to reflect on lovers' confidences entrusted to its 
 passionless keeping. John and Hester sat on 
 the lover's bench on the bluff. The sound of 
 the forceful dance music was deadened by thej 
 laughter of the merry-makers. Japanese lan- 
 terns made a fantastic attempt at illumination, 
 and looked like night birds of brilliant plumage, 
 perched on the old gnarled boughs of the orchard. 
 The sea sighed in languid delight, and the mys- 
 terious whisperings of the night were hushed to 
 listen to the lovers. 
 
 " Tell me again, Hester darling, that you are 
 happy." 
 
 " Ah, John dear," came the response, " God is 
 very good." 
 
 The curtain of the night deepened, and the sea 
 took up the refrain, " God is very good," and 
 sang it through all eternity. 
 
 THE END
 
 The Most Talked About Book of the Day 
 
 BLENNERHASSETT 
 
 A THRILLING ROMANCE 
 
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