Andrew the Glad By MARIA THOMPSON DAVIESS Author of Miss Selina Lue, Rose of Old Harpeth The Melting of Molly, etc. 1913 TO LIBBIE LUTTRELL MORROW CONTENTS CHAPTER I THE HEART TRAP II THE RITUAL III TWO LITTLE CRIMES IV ACCORDING TO SOLOMON V DAVID'S ROSE AND SOME THORNS VI THE BRIDGE OF DREAMS VII STRANGE WILD THINGS VIII THE SPELL AND ITS WEAVING IX PURSUING THE POSSUM X LOVE'S HOME AND ANDREW SEVIER XI ACROSS THE MANY WATERS ANDREW THE GLAD CHAPTER I THE HEART TRAP "There are some women who will brew mystery from the decoction ofeven a very simple life. Matilda is one of them, " remarked the major tohimself as he filled his pipe and settled himself before his high-piled, violet-flamed logs. "It was waxing strong in her this morning and anexcitement will arrive shortly. Now I wonder--" "Howdy, Major, " came in a mockingly lugubrious voice from the hall, andDavid Kildare blew into the room. He looked disappointedly around, dropped into a chair and lowered his voice another note. "Seen Phoebe?" he demanded. "No, haven't you?" answered the major as he lighted his pipe and regardedthe man opposite him with a large smile of welcome. "Not for three days, hand-running. She's been over to see Andy with Mrs. Matilda twice, and I've missed her both times. Now, how's that for luck?" "Well, " said the major reflectively, "in the terms of modern parlance, you certainly are up against it. And did it ever occur to you that a manwith three ribs broken and a dislocated collar-bone, who has written aplay and a sprinkle of poems, is likely to interest Phoebe Donelsonenormously? There is nothing like poetry to implant a divine passion, andAndrew is undoubtedly of poetic stamp. " "Oh, poetry--hang! It's more Andy's three ribs than anything else. Hejust looks pale and smiles at all of 'em. He always did have yellow dogeyes, the sad kind. I'd like to smash all two dozen of his ribs, " andKildare slashed at his own sturdy legs with his crop. He had dropped inwith his usual morning's tale of woe to confide to Major Buchanan, and hehad found him, as always, ready to hand out an incendiary brand ofsympathy. "He ought not to have more than twenty-three; one on the right sideshould be missing. Some woman's got it--maybe Phoebe, " said the majorwith deadly intent. "Nothing of the kind. I'm shy a rib myself and Phoebe is _it_. Don't Iget a pain in my side every time I see her? It's the real psychic thing, only she doesn't seem to get hold of her end of the wire like she might. " "Don't trust her, David, don't trust her! You see his being injured inPanama, building bridges for his country, while you sat here idly readingthe newspapers about it, has had its appeal. I know it's dangerous, butyou ought to want Phoebe to soothe his fevered brow. Nothing is too goodfor a hero this side of Mason and Dixon's, my son. " The major eyed hisvictim with calculating coolness, gaging just how much more of thebaiting he would stand. He was disappointed to see that the train ofexplosives he had laid failed to take fire. "Well, he's being handed out a choice bunch of Mason-Dixon attentions. They are giving him the cheer-up all day long. When I left, Mrs. Shelbywas up there talking to him, and Mrs. Cherry Lawrence and Tom had justcome in. Mrs. Cherry had brought him several fresh eggs. She had got themfrom Phoebe! I sent them to her from the farm this morning. Rode out andcoaxed the hens for them myself. Now, isn't a brainstorm up to me?" "Well, I don't know, " answered the major in a judicial tone of voice. "You wouldn't have them neglect him, would you?" "Well, what about me?" demanded David dolefully. "I haven't any greeneyes, 'cause I'm trusting Andy, _not_ Phoebe; but neglect is justwithering my leaves. I haven't seen her alone for two weeks. She isalways over there with Mrs. Matilda and the rest 'soothing the feveredbrow. ' Say, Major, give Mrs. Matilda the hint. The chump isn't reallysick any more. Hint that a little less--" "David, sir, " interrupted the major, "it takes more than a hint to stop awoman when she takes a notion to nurse an attractive man, a sick lion oneat that. And depend upon it, it is the poetry that makes them hover him, not the ribs. " "Well, you just stop her and that'll stop them, " said David wrathfully. "David Kildare, " answered the major dryly, "I've been married to hernearly forty years and I've never stopped her doing anything yet. Stopping a wife is one of the bride-notions a man had better give upearly in the matrimonial state--if he expects to hold the bride. Andbride-holding ought to be the life-job of a man who is rash enough toundertake one. " "Do you think Phoebe and bride will ever rhyme together, Major?" askedDavid in a tone of deepest depression. "I can't seem to hear them everjingle. " "Yes, Dave, the Almighty will meter it out to her some day, and I hope Hewill help you when He does. I can't manage my wife. She's a modern woman. Now, what are we going to do about them?" and the major smiledquizzically at the perturbed young man standing on the rug in front ofthe fire. "Well, " answered Kildare with a spark in his eyes, as he flecked a bit ofmud from his boots which were splashed from his morning ride, "when I getPhoebe Donelson, I'm going to whip her!" And very broad and tall andstrong was young David but not in the least formidable as to expression. "Dave, my boy, " answered the major in a tone of the deepest respect, "Ihope you will do it, if you get the chance; but you won't! Thirty-eightyears ago last summer I felt the same way, but I've had a long time tomake up my mind to it; and I haven't done it yet. " "Anyway, " rejoined his victim, "there's just this to it; she has got toaccept me kindly, affectionately and in a ladylike manner or I'm going tobe the villain and make some sort of a rough house to frighten her intoit. " "David, " said the major with emphasis, "don't count on frightening awoman into a compliance in an affair of the affections. Don't you knowthey will risk having their hearts suspended on a hair-line betweenheaven and hell and enjoy it? Now, my wife--" "Oh, Mrs. Matilda never could have been like that, " interrupted Davidmiserably. "Boy, " answered the major solemnly, "if I were to give you a succinctaccount of the writhings of my soul one summer over a California man, theagony you are enduring would seem the extremity of insignificance. " "Heavenly hope, Major, did you have to go up against the other mangame, too? I seem to have been standing by with a basket picking upchips of Phoebe's lovers for a long lifetime; Tom, Hob, Payt, widowersand flocks of new fledges. But I had an idea that you must have been afirst-and-only with Mrs. Matilda. " "Well, it sometimes happens, David, that the individuality of all of awoman's first loves get so merged into that of the last that it would bedifficult for her to differentiate them herself; and it is bestto keep her happily employed so she doesn't try. " "Well, all I can say for you, Major, " interrupted Kildare with a laugh, "is that your forty years' work shows some. Your Mrs. Buchanan is what Icall a finished product of a wife. I'll never do it in the world. I canget up and talk a jury into seeing things my way, but I get cross-brainedwhen I go to put things to Phoebe. That reminds me, that case on old JimCross for getting tangled up with some fussy hens in Latimer's hen-houseweek before last is called for to-day at twelve sharp. I'm due to put theold body through and pay the fine and costs; only the third time thisyear. I'm thinking of buying him a hen farm to save myself trouble. Good-by, sir!" "David, David, " laughed the major, "beware of your growingresponsibilities! Cap Hobson reported that sensation of yours beforethe grand jury over that negro and policeman trouble. The darkies willput up your portrait beside that of Father Abe on Emancipation Dayand you will be in danger of passing down to posterity by thepublic-spirit-fame chute. Your record will be in the annals of thecity if you don't mind!" "Not much danger, Major, " answered David with a smile. "I'm just a gladman with not balance enough to run the rail of any kind of heavy trackaffairs. " "David, " said the major with a sudden sadness coming into his voice andeyes, "one of the greatest men I ever knew we called the glad man--theboy's father, Andrew Sevier. We called him Andrew, the Glad. Somethinghas brought it all back to me to-day and with your laugh you reminded meof him. The tragedy of it all!" "I've always known what a sorrow it was to you, Major, and it is thebitterness that is eating the heart out of Andy. What was it all aboutexactly, sir? I have always wanted to ask you. " David looked intothe major's stern old eyes with such a depth of sympathy in his youngones that a barrier suddenly melted and with the tone of bestowing anhonor the old fire-eater told the tale of the sorrow of his youth. "Gaming was in his blood, David, and we all knew it and protected himfrom high play always. We were impoverished gentlemen, who were buildingfences and restoring war-devastated lands, and we played in our shabbyclub with a minimum stake and a maximum zest for the sport. But thatnight we had no control over him. He had been playing in secret withPeters Brown for weeks and had lost heavily. When we had closed up thegame, he called for the dice and challenged Brown to square theiraccount. They threw again and again with luck on the same grim side. Isaw him stake first his horses, then his bank account, and lose. "Hayes Donelson and I started to remonstrate but he silenced us with alook. Then he drew a hurried transference of his Upper Cumberlandproperty and put it on the table. They threw again and he lost! Then hesmiled and with a steady hand wrote a conveyance of his home andplantation, the last things he had, as we knew, and laid that on thetable. " "No, Major, " exclaimed David with positive horror in his voice. "Yes, it was madness, boy, " answered the major. "Brown turned his ivoriesand we all held our breath as we read his four-three. A mad joy flamed inAndrew's face and he turned his cup with a steady wrist--and rolledthrees. We none of us looked at Brown, a man who had led another man inwhose veins ran a madness, where in his ran ice, on to his ruin. Wefollowed Andrew to the street to see him ride away in a gray drizzle to agambled home--and a wife and son. "That morning deeds were drawn, signed, witnessed and delivered to Brownin his office. Then--then"--the major's thin, powerful old hands graspedthe arm of his chair--"we found him in the twilight under the clump ofcedars that crowned the hill which overlooked Deep-mead Farm--broad acresof land that the Seviers had had granted them from Virginia--_dead_, his pistol under his shoulder and a smile on his face. Just so he hadlooked as he rode at the head of our crack gray regiment in thathell-reeking charge at Perryville, and it was such a smile we hadfollowed into the trenches at Franklin. Stalwart, dashing, joyous Andrew, how we had all loved him, our man-of-smiles!" "Can anything ever make it up to you, Major?" asked David softly. As hespoke he refilled the major's pipe and handed it to him, not appearing tonotice how the lean old hand shook. "You do, sir, " answered the major with a spark coming back into his eyes, "you and your gladness and the boy and his--sadness--and Phoebe most ofall. But don't let me keep you from your hen-roost defense--I agree withyou that a hen farm will be the cheapest course for you to take with oldCross. Give him my respects, and good-by to you. " The major's dismissalwas gallant, and David went his way with sympathy and admiration in hisgay heart for the old fire-eater whose ashes had been so stirred. The major resumed his contemplation of the fire. Hearty burning logs makegood companions for a philosopher like the major, and such times when hisdepths were troubled he was wont to trust to them for companionship. But into any mood of absorption, no matter how deep, the major was alwaysready to welcome Mrs. Matilda, and his expectations on the subject of heradventures had been fully realized. As usual she had begun her tale inthe exact center of the adventure with full liberty left herself to workback to the beginning or forward to the close. "And the mystery of it all, Matilda, is the mystery of love--warm, contradictory, cruel, human love that the Almighty puts in the heart of aman to draw the unreasoning heart of a woman; sometimes to bruise andcrush it, seldom to kill it outright. Mary Caroline only followed hercall, " answered the major, responding to her random lead patiently. "I know, Major; yes, I know, " answered his wife as she laid her hand onthe arm of his chair. "Mary Caroline struggled against it but it wasstronger than she was. It wasn't the loving and marrying a man who hadbeen on the other side--so many girls did marry Union officers as soon asthey could come back down to get them--but the _kind_ of enemy he was!" "Yes, " said the major thoughtfully, "it would take a wider garment oflove to cover a man with a carpetbag in his hand than a soldier in aYankee uniform. A conqueror who looked around as he was fighting and thencame back to trade on the necessities of the conquered cuts but a sorryfigure, Matilda, but a sorry figure!" "And Mary Caroline felt it too, Major--but she couldn't help it, "said Mrs. Buchanan with a catch in her voice. "The night before sheran away to marry him she spent with me, for you were away across theriver, and all night we talked. She told me--not that she was going--buthow she cared. She said it bitterly over and over, 'Peters Brown, thecarpetbagger--and I love him!' I tried to comfort her as best I couldbut it was useless. He was a thief to steal her--just a child!" There wasa bitterness and contempt in Mrs. Matilda's usually tender voice. Shesat up very straight and there was a sparkle in her bright eyes. "And the girl, " continued the major thoughtfully, "was born as her motherdied. He'd never let the mother come back and he never brought the child. Now he's dead. I wonder--I wonder. We've got a claim on that girl, Matilda. We--" "And, dear, that is just what I came back in such a hurry to tell youabout--I felt it so--I haven't been able to say it right away. I began bytalking about Mary Caroline and--I--I--" "Why, Matilda!" said the major in vague alarm at the tremble in hiswife's voice. He laid his hand over hers on the arm of his chair with awarm clasp. "It's just this, Major. You know how happy I have been, we all have been, over the wonderful statue that has been given in memory of the women ofthe Confederacy who stayed at home and fed the children and slaves whilethe men fought. As you advised them, they have decided to put it in thepark just to the left of the Temple of Arts, on the very spot whereGeneral Darrah had his last gun fired and spiked just before he fell andjust as the surrender came. It's strange, isn't it, that nobody knowswho's giving it? Perhaps it was because you and David and I were talkinglast night about what he should say about General Darrah when he madethe presentation of the sketches of the statue out at the opening of theart exhibition in the Temple of Arts to-night, that made me dream aboutMary Caroline all night. It is all so strange. " Again Mrs. Buchananpaused with a half sob in her voice. "Why, what is it, Matilda?" the major asked as he turned and looked ather anxiously. "It's a wonderful thing that has happened, Major. Something, I don't knowwhat, just made me go out to the Temple this morning to see the sketchesof the statue which came yesterday. I felt I couldn't wait until to-nightto see them. Oh, they are so lovely! Just a tall fearless woman with ababy on her breast and a slave woman clinging to her skirts with her ownchild in her arms! "As I stood before the case and looked at them the tragedy of all thelong fight came back to me. I caught my breath and turned away--and therestood a girl! I knew her instantly, for I was looking straight into MaryCaroline's own purple eyes. Then I just opened my arms and held herclose, calling Mary Caroline's name over and over. There was no oneelse in the great room and it was quiet and solemn and still. Then sheput her hand against my face and looked at me and said in the loveliesttenderest voice: "'It's my mother's Matilda, isn't it? I have the old daguerreotype!' AndI smiled back and we kissed each other and cried--and then cried somemore. " "I haven't a doubt of those tears, " answered the major in a suspiciouslygruff voice. "But where's the girl? Why didn't you bring her right backwith you? She is ours, Matilda, that purple-eyed girl. When is shecoming? Call Tempie and tell her to have Jane get those two south-wingrooms ready right away. I want Jeff to fill up the decanters with thefifty-six claret, too, and to put--" "But wait, Major, I couldn't get her to come home with me! We went outinto the sunshine and for a long drive into the country. We talked andtalked. It is the saddest thing in the world, but she is convinced thather mother's people are not going to like her. She has been taught thatwe are so prejudiced. I think she has found out about the carpetbagging. She is so sensitive! She came because she couldn't help it; she wantedjust to see her mother's country. She's only been here two days. Sheintends to steal away back now, over to Europe, I think. I tried tomake her see--" "Matilda, " said the major sternly, "go right back and tell thatchild to pack her dimity and come straight here to me. Carpetbagging, indeed!--Mary Caroline's girl with purple eyes! Did old Brown have anypurple eyes, I'd like to know?" "I made her promise not to go until tomorrow. I think she would feeldifferently if we could get her to stay a little while. I want her tostay. She is so lonely. My little boy loved Mary Caroline and grieved forher when she went away. I feel I must have this child to comfort fora time at least. " "Of course she must stay. Did she promise she wouldn't slip away fromyou?" "Yes, but I'm uneasy. I think I will go down to her hotel right now. Doyou mind about being alone for lunch? Does Tempie get your coffee right?" "She does pretty well considering that she hasn't been tasting it forthirty years. But you go get that child, Matilda. Bring her right backwith you. Don't stop to argue with her, I'll attend to all that later;just bring her home!" And as Mrs. Buchanan departed the major rose and stood at the windowuntil he saw her get into her carriage and be driven out of sight. Looking down the vista of the long street, his eyes had a faraway tenderlight, and as he turned and took up his pipe from the table histhoughts slipped back into the province of memory. He settled himselfin his chair before his fire to muse a bit between the whiffs of hisheart-leaf. And Mary Caroline Darrah's girl had come home--home to her own, he mused. There was mystery in it, the mystery that sometimes brands the unborn. Brown had never let Mary Caroline come back and the few letters she hadwritten had told them little of the life she led. The constraint hadwrung his wife's yearning heart. Only a letter had come when somehowthe news had reached her of the death of Matilda's boy, and it had beenwild and sweet and athrob with her love of them. And in its pages her ownhopes for the spring were confessed in a passion of desire to give andclaim sympathy. Her baby had been born and she was dead and buried beforethey had heard of it; twenty-three years ago! And Matilda's grief for herown child had been always mingled with love and longing for themotherless, unattainable young thing across the distance. Brown had keptthe girl to himself and had never brought her back--because he _dared_not. The major's powerful old hands writhed around the arms of his chair andhis eyes glowed into the embers like live sparks. It was years, nearlythirty years ago--but, God, how the tragedy of it came back! The hotblood beat into his veins and he could feel it and see it all. Wouldthe picture always burn in his brain? Nearly thirty years ago-- The logs crashed apart in the hearth and with a start the major rose tohis feet, a tear dashed aside under his shaggy old eyebrows. He would goback to his Immortals--and forget. Perhaps Phoebe would come in forlunch. That would make forgetting easier. Where had the girl been for the last few days? He smiled as he foundhimself in something of David's dismay at not having seen the busy youngwoman for quite a time. And it was perhaps an hour later that, as he sat in the breakfast roompartaking of his lunch in solitary comfort, lost to the world, his wishfor her brought its materialization. He had the morning's paper proppedup before him and an outspread book rested by his plate, while heheld a large volume balanced on his knee, which he paused occasionally toconsult. Mrs. Buchanan had telephoned that she would be home with her guest atfive o'clock and his mind was filled with pleasant anticipation. Butthere was never a time with the major, no matter how filled the life wasaround him with the excitement of events, with the echo of joy orwoe, the clash of social strife or the turmoil of vaster interests, whenhe failed to be able to plunge into his books and lose himselfcompletely. He was in the act of consuming a remnant of a corn muffin and a draftfrom his paper at the same time, when he heard a merry voice in laughinggreeting to Jeff, and the rose damask curtains that hung between thebreakfast room and the hall parted, and Phoebe stood framed againsttheir heavy folds. She was the freshest, most radiant, tailor-made visionimaginable and the major smiled a large joyful smile at the sight of her. "Come in, come in, my dear; you are just in time for a hot muffin and afried chicken wing!" he exclaimed as he rose and drew her to the table. The old volume crashed to the floor unheeded. "Oh, no, Major, thank you, I couldn't think of it, " exclaimed Phoebe. "I'm lunching on a glass of malted milk and a raw egg these days. I losta pound and three-quarters last week and I feel so slim and graceful. " Asshe spoke she ran her hands down the charming lines of her tall figureand turned slowly around for him to get the full effect of her loss. Shewas most beautifully set up and the long lines melted into curves wheregracious curves ought to be. "Nonsense, nonsense, Phoebe Donelson!" exclaimed the major. "Every poundis an added charm. Sit here beside me. " And he drew her into a chair atthe corner of the table. In a twinkling of her black eyes Tempie had served her with the goldenmuffins and crisp chicken. With a long sigh of absolute rapture Phoeberesigned herself to the inevitable crash of her resolutions. "Ah, I never was so miserable and so happy in all my life before, " shesaid. "I'm so hungry--and I'm so stout--and these muffins are wickedlydelicious. " "Phoebe, " said the major sternly, "instead of starving yourself to deathyou need to lie awake at night with lovers' troubles. Why, the summer Icourted Matilda I could have wrapped my belt around me twice. I havenever been portly since. It's loving you need, good, hard, miserableloving. Didn't you ever hear of a 'lean and hungry lover'? Your conductis positively--have another muffin and this little slice of upperjoint--I say positively, unwomanly inhuman. Are there no depths of pityin your breast? Is your bosom of adamant? When did you see David Kildare?He is in a most pitiable condition. He left here not an hour ago and Ifelt--" "Don't worry over David, please, Major, " said Phoebe as she paused witha bit of buttered muffin suspended on the way to her white teeth. "Heis the most riotously--thank you, Tempie, just one more--happy individualI know. What he wants he has, and he sees to it that he has what hewants--to which add a most glorious leisure in which to want and have. " "Phoebe, David Kildare has an aching void in his heart that weighsjust one hundred and thirty-six pounds, lacking now I believe one andthree-quarters pounds plus three muffins and a half chicken. How can yoube so heartless?" The major bent a benignly stern glance upon her whichshe returned with the utmost unconcern. "He did not see you all of yesterday or the day before and only once onMonday, and then you--" "That sounds like one of those rhyming calendars, my dear Major. "Monday I am going far away, Tuesday I'll be busy all the day, Wednesday is the day I study French, Thursday is the--" and Phoebe hummed the little nonsense jingle to him in a most beguilingmanner. The major laughed delightedly. "Phoebe, some day you will be heldresponsible for David Kildare's--" "But, my dear Major, " interrupted Phoebe, "how could I be expected towork all day for raiment and food, with malted milk and eggs at the pricethey are now, and then be responsible for such a perfectly irresponsibleperson as David Kildare? Why, just yesterday, while I was writing up theFarrell débutante tea with the devil waiting at my elbows for copy andthe composing room in a stew, he called me twice over the wire. He knewbetter, but didn't care. " "Still, my dear, still it's love, " said the major as he looked at herthoughtfully and dropped the banter that had been in his voice since shehad come in. "A boy's? Perhaps, but I think not. You'll see! It's a call, a call that must be answered some time, child--and a mystery. " For amoment the major sat and looked deep into the gray eyes raised to his inquick responsiveness to the change in his mood. "Don't trifle with love, girl, it's God Almighty's dower to a woman. It's hers; though shepays a bitter price for it. It's a wonder and a worker of wonders. It hasall come home to me to-day and I think you will understand when I tellyou about--" "Major, " interrupted Tempie with a broad grin on her black face, "Mr. Dave, he done telephoned fer you ter keep Miss Phoebe till he gits here. He says he'll hold you and me 'sponsible, sir. " A quick flush rose to Phoebe's cheeks and she laughed as she collectedher notebook and pinned down her veil all at the same tune with a view toinstant flight. She gave neither the major nor Tempie time forremonstrance. "Good-by!" she called from the hall. "I only came in to tell Mrs. Matildathat I would meet her at the Cantrell tea at five-fifteen and afterwardwe could make that visit together. The muffins were divine!" "Tempie, " remarked the major as he looked up at her over the devastatedtable with an imperturbable smile, "I have decided positively that womenare just half-breed angels with devil markings all over theirdispositions. " And having received which admonition with the deepest respect, Tempieimmediately fell into a perfect whirlwind of guest preparations whichinvolved the pompous Jefferson, her husband, and the meek Jane, herdaughter. The major issued her numberless, perfectly impossible butsolicitous orders and then retired to his library chair with his mind atease and his books at hand. And it was in the violet flamed dusk as he sat with his immortal friendsranged around that Mrs. Matilda brought the treasure home to him. She wasa very lovely thing, a fragrant flower of a woman with the tender shynessof a child in her manner as she laid her hands in his outheld to her withhis courtly old-world grace. "My dear, my dear, " he said as he drew her near to him, "here's a welcomethat's been ready for you twenty years, you slip of a girl you, with yourmother's eyes. Did you think you could get away from Matilda and me whenwe've been waiting for you all this time?" "I may have thought so, but when I saw her I knew I couldn't; didn't wantto even, " she answered him in a low voice that hinted of close-lyingtears. "Child, Matilda has had a heart trap ready for you ever since you wereborn, in case she sighted you in the open. It's baited with a silverrattle, doll babies, sugar plums, the ashes of twenty years' roses, thefragrance of every violet she has seen, and lately an aggregation ofevery eligible masculine heart in this part of the country has beenadded. She caught you fair--walk in and help yourself; it's all yours!" CHAPTER II THE RITUAL "Well, it's a sensation all right, Major, " said David as he stood infront of the major's fire early in the morning after the ceremonies ofthe presentation of sketches of the statue out at the Temple of Arts. "Mrs. Matilda told me the news and helped me sandwich it into my speechbetween that time and the open-up talk. People had asked so often who wasgiving the statue, laid it on so many different people, and wondered overit to such an extent all fall that they had got tired and forgot thatthey didn't know all about it. When I presented it in the name ofCaroline Darrah Brown in memory of her mother and her grandfather, General Darrah, you could have heard a pin drop for a few seconds, thenthe applause was almost a sob. It was as dramatic a thing as has beenhanded this town in many a day. Still it was a bit sky-rockety, don't youthink--keeping it like that and--" "David, " interrupted the major quickly, "she never intended to tell it. She had done the business part of it through her solicitors. She _never_wanted us to know. I persuaded her to let it be presented in her name, myself, just before Matilda went out with you. She shrinks--" "Wait a minute, Major, don't get the two sides of my brain crossed. Youpersuaded her--she isn't in town is she?--don't tell me she's hereherself!" And David ruffled his auburn forelock with a gesture ofperplexity. "Yes, " answered the major, "Caroline Darrah Brown is here and is, I hope, going to stay for a time at least. I wanted to tell you about ityesterday but I hadn't seen her and I--" "And, David dear, " interrupted Mrs. Buchanan who had been standing bywith shining eyes waiting for an opening to break in on Kildare'sastonishment with some of the details of her happiness over herdiscovery. "I didn't tell you last night for the major didn't want me to, but she _is_ so lovely! She's your inherited friend, for your mother andhers were devoted to each other. I do want you to love her and everybodyhelp me to make her feel at home. Don't mind about her father beinga--you know a--a carpetbagger. Three of her Darrah grandfathers havebeen governors of this state; just think about them and don't talk abouther father or any carpet--you know. Please be good to her!" "Be good to her, " exclaimed David heartily, "just watch me! I am lovingher already for making you so happy by this down-from-the-sky drop, Mrs. Matilda. And we'll all be careful about the carpetbags; won't evenmention a rug; lots of talk can be got out of the dead governors I'mthinking. My welcome's getting more enthusiastic every moment. When can Ihand it to her?" "She's resting now and I think she ought to be quiet for to-day, becauseshe has been under a strain, " answered Mrs. Buchanan as she glancedtenderly at a closed door across the hall. "Oh, I'm so glad you think youare going to love her in spite of--of--" "The Brown graft on the Darrah family tree?" finished David quizzically. His eyes danced with delighted amusement across her puffs at the major ashe added, "Must have been silversmiths dangling on most of his ancestralbranches, judging from his propensity for making dollars; a million ortwo, stocks, bonds, any kind of flimflam, --eh, Major?" "Yes, " answered the major as he blew a ring of smoke into the air, "yes, just about that; any kind of flimflam. And I can not conceive of PetersBrown rejoicing at having thirty thousand of those dollars put into an InMemoriam to the women who sniffed at him and his carpetbags for a goodtwenty years after the war. But the child doesn't take any of that in. Those were twenty rich years he put in in reconstructing us, but when hetook those same heavy carpetbags North he took Mary Caroline Darrah, theprettiest woman in the county with him. This girl--as I have said before, isn't love a strange thing? And you say the populace was astonished?" "Almost to the point of paralyzation, " answered David as he filled astray pipe with some of the major's most choice heart-leaf tobacco. "Butwe managed to open up the picture show all right. The entire hive of busyart-bees was there in a queer kind of clothes; but proud of it. Theyacted as if we were dirt under their feet. They smiled on the wholeglad-crowd of us with pity and let us rave over the wrong pictures. Theportrait of Mrs. Peyton Kendrick by the great Susie Carrie Snowis--er--well, a little more of it shows than seems natural about the leftoff arm, but it's a Susie Carrie all right. You ought to have gone, Major, you would take with the art-gang, but we didn't; we were tooafraid of them. After we had been shooed in front of most of the picturesand told how to see things in them that weren't there at all, Hob Caperssaid: "'Let's all go down to the University Club and get drunk to forget 'em. 'That's why Mrs. Matilda came home so late. " "And I want Hobson to be nice to her too, " continued Mrs. Buchanan as ifshe had not been interrupted in planning for her guest. "And Tom andPeyton Kendrick. I'll ask them to come and see her right away. " "Don't! Wait a bit, Mrs. Matilda, " exclaimed David. "Hob saw a mysteriousgirl in an orchid hat out in the park day before yesterday. He says hisheart creaked with expansion at just the glimpse of a chin he got fromunder her veil. Suppose she's the girl. Let him have first innings. " "David, " remarked the major, "flag the sun, moon and stars in theircourses and signal time to reverse a day or a year, but don't try to turnaside a maker of matches from her machinations. " David laughed as the major's wife shook her head at him in gentlereproof, and he asked interestedly: "When may we come to call, madam? I judge the lady is under your roof?" "Soon, dear. She is very tired to-day, and I feel sure you will--" "Miss Matilda, " called Tempie from the hall, "Miss Phoebe is holdin' thephone fer you. She's at Mis' Cantrell's and she wants ter speak with youright away. " "Wait, wait, don't answer her right now--ring her off, Tempie! If she hastrouble getting you, Mrs. Matilda, and you keep her talking I can catchher. Let me get a good start and then answer. Good-by! Keep talking toher!" And with determination in his eyes David took his hurrieddeparture. "Good-by, good luck--and good hunting!" called the major after him. And with the greatest skilfulness Mrs. Buchanan held Phoebe in hand forenough minutes to insure David's capture before she returned to thelibrary. "Major, " she said as she rubbed her cheek against his velvet coat sleeve, "why do you suppose Phoebe doesn't love David? I can't understand it. " "Matilda, " answered the major as he blew a little curl over one of thesoft puffs of her white hair, "you were born in a day when women were allrun into a love-mold. They are poured into other assorted fancy shapes inthese times, but heat from the right source melts them all the same. Wecan trust David's ardor, I think. " "Yes, I believe you are right, " she answered judicially, "and Phoebeinherits lovingness from her mother. I feel that she is more affectionatethan she shows, and I just go on and love her anyway. She lets me do itvery often. " And from the depth of her unsophisticated heart Mrs. Buchanan had evolveda course of action that had gone far in comforting a number of the lonelyyears through which Phoebe Donelson had waded. She had been young, andhigh-spirited and intensely proud when she had begun to fight her ownbattles in her sixteenth year. Many loving hands of her mother's andfather's old friends had been held out to her with a bounty ofprotection, but she had gone her course and carved her own fortune. Hersocial position had made things easy for her in a way and now her societyeditorship of the leading journal had become a position from which shewielded much power over the gay world that delighted in her wit andbeauty, took her autocratic dictums in most cases, and followed her voguealmost absolutely. Her independence prompted her to live alone in a smart down-townapartment with her old negro mammy, but her affections demanded that shetake refuge at all times under the sheltering wings of Mrs. Buchanan, whokept a dainty nest always in readiness for her. The tumultuous wooing of David Kildare had been going on since her earlyteens under the delighted eyes of the major, who in turn both furtheredand hindered the suit by his extremely philosophical advice. Phoebe was the crystallization of an infusion of the blood of manycultured, high-bred, haughty women which had been melted in the retort ofa stern necessity and had come out a rather brilliant specimen of themodern woman, if a bit hard. Viewed in some ways she became an alarmingaugury of the future, but there are always potent counter-forces at workin life's laboratory, and the kind of forces that David Kildare broughtto bear in his wooing were never exactly to be calculated upon. And sothe major spent much time in the contemplation of the problem presented. And when she had come in after a late lunch to call upon their guest, ithad been intensely interesting to the major to regard the effect of themeeting of Phoebe's and Caroline Darrah's personalities. Caroline'slovely, shy child's eyes had melted with delight under Phoebe's straight, gray, friendly glances and her fascination for the tall, strong, radiantwoman, who sat beside her, had been so obvious that the major hadchuckled to himself under his breath as he watched them make friends, under Mrs. Matilda's poorly concealed anxiety that they should at onceadopt cordial relations. "And so he consented to undertake the commission for you because he wasinterested?" Phoebe was asking as they talked about the sketches of thestatue. A very great sculptor was doing the work for Caroline DarrahBrown, and it interested Phoebe to hear how he had consented to accept sounimportant a commission. "Yes, " answered Caroline in her exquisite voice which showed only thefaintest liquid trace of her southern inheritance. "I told him all aboutit and he became interested. He is very great, and simple, and kind. Hemade it easy to show him how I felt. I couldn't tell him much excepthow I felt; but I think it has something of--that--in--it. Don't youthink so?" As she spoke she laid her white hand on the arm of Phoebe'schair and leaned forward with her dewy tender eyes looking straight intothe gray ones opposite her. For a moment Phoebe returned the glance with a quiet seriousness, thenher eyes lighted a second, were suffused with a quick moisture, and witha proud gesture she bent forward, laying both hands on Caroline'sshoulders as she pressed a deep kiss on the girl's red lips. "I do think so, " she answered with a low laugh as she arose to her feet, drew Caroline up into the bend of her arm and faced Mrs. Buchanan and themajor. "I know the loveliness in the statue is what the great man got outof the loveliness in your heart, and the major and Mrs. Matilda think so, too. And I'm going quick because I must; and I'm coming back as soon as Ican because I'm going to find you here--that is _partly_, Major, " andbefore they could stop her she had gone on down the hall and they heardher answer Jeff's farewell as he let her out the door. "That, Caroline Darrah Brown, was your first and most importantconquest, " observed the major. "Phoebe has a white rock heart but acrystal cracked therefrom is apt to turn into a jewel of price. Hersis a blood-ruby friendship that pays for the wearing and cherishing. Butit's time for the nap Mrs. Matilda decides for me to take and I mustleave you ladies to your dimity talk. " With which he betook himself tohis room, still plainly pleased at the result of Phoebe's call on thestranger. The two women thus left to their own devices spent a delightful half-hourwandering over the house and discussing its furnishings and arrangements. Mrs. Buchanan never tired of the delights of her town home. The house wasvery stately and old-world, with its treasures of rare ancestral rosewoodand mahogany that she had brought in from the Seven Oaks Plantation. Therooms in the country home had been so crowded with treasures of bygonegenerations that they were scarcely dismantled by the furnishing ofthe town house. She was in her glory of domesticity, and as she passed from one room toanother she told Caroline bits of interesting history about this piece orthat. In her naiveté she let the girl see into the long hard years thathad been a hand-to-hand struggle for her and the major on their wornfarm lands out in the beautiful Harpeth Valley. The cropping out of phosphate on the bare fields had brought acomfortable fortune in its train to the old soldier farmer and they hadmoved into this town house to spend the winter in greater accessibilityto their friends. Her own particular little world had welcomed her withdelight, and Caroline could see that she was taking a second bellehood asif it had been an uninterrupted reign. Most of the financiers of the city were the major's old friends and theymanaged enormously advantageous contracts with mining companies for him, and had taken him into the schemes of the mighty with the most manifestcordiality. His study became the scene of much important plot and counter-plot. Theyfound in his mind the quality which had led them to outwit many an enemywhen he scouted ahead of their tattered regiment, still available whenthe enemy appeared under commercial or civic front. Also it naturallyhappened that his library gradually became the hunting-grounds for Mrs. Matilda's young people, who were irresistibly drawn into the circle ofhis ever ready sympathy. The whole tale and its telling was absorbingly interesting to CarolineDarrah Brown and she listened with enraptured attention to it all. Sherepeated carefully the names of her mother's friends as they came up inthe conversation; and she was pathetically eager to know all about thisworld she had come back into, from, what already seemed to her, her birthin a strange land. Two days in this country of her mother, and theenchantment of traditions that had been given to her unborn was alreadyat work with its spell! And so they rambled around and talked, unheeding the time until the earlytwilight began to fall and Mrs. Buchanan was summoned by Jeff to aconsultation in the domestic regions with the autocratic Tempie. Left to herself, Caroline Darrah wandered back again through the roomsfrom one object to another that inspired the stories. It was likefairy-land to her and she was in a long dream of pleasure. Out of theshadows she seemed to be drawing her wistful young mother, and hand inhand they were going over the past together. When it was quite deep into the twilight she sauntered back to thecrackling comfort of the major's fragrant logs. A discussion with Jeffover his toilet had delayed the major in his bedroom and she found thelibrary deserted, but hospitable with firelight. How long she had been musing and castle-building in the coals shescarcely knew, when a step on the polished floor made her look up, andwith a little exclamation she rose to her full, slim, young height andturned to face a man who had come in with the unannounced surety of amember of the household. He was tall, broad and dark, and hisknickerbockers were splashed with mud and covered with clinging burrs andpine-needles. One arm was lashed to his side with a silk sling and heheld a huge bunch of glowing red berries in his free hand. They werebranches of the red, coral-strung buck bushes and Caroline had never seenthem before. Their gorgeousness fairly took her breath and she exclaimedwith the ingenuous delight of a child. "How lovely, how lovely!" she cried as she stretched out her hands forthem. "I never saw any before. Do they grow here?" "Yes, " answered the man with a gleam of amusement in his dark eyes, "yes, they came from Seven Oaks. The fields are full of them now. Do you wantthem?" And as he spoke he laid the bunch in her arms. "And they smell woodsy and piny and delicious. Thank you! I--they arelovely. I--" She paused in wild confusion, looked around the room as ifin search of some one, and ended by burying her face in the berries. "Idon't know where Major Buchanan is, " she murmured helplessly. "Well, it doesn't matter, " he said with a comforting smile as he came upbeside her on the rug. "They'll introduce us when they come. I'm AndrewSevier and the berries are yours, so what matter?" "Oh, " said Caroline Darrah in an awed voice, and as she spoke she raisedher head from the wood flowers and her eyes to his face, "oh, are youreally Andrew Sevier?" "Yes, _really_, " he answered with another smile and a slightly puzzledexpression in his own dark eyes. "But I read everything I can find about you, and the papers say you areill in Panama. I've been so worried about you. I saw your play last weekin New York and I couldn't enjoy it for wondering how you were. Iwouldn't read your poem in this month's _Review_ because I was afraid youwere dead--and I didn't know it. I'm so relieved. " With which astonishingremark she drew a deep breath and laid her cheek against the fieldbouquet. "I am--that is I was smashed up in Panama until David came down andbrought me home. It was awfully good of you to--to know that I--thatI--" Andrew Sevier paused as mirth, wonder and gratitude spread inconfusion over his suntanned face. "How did it happen? Was it very dreadful?" And again those distractinglysolicitous eyes, full of sympathetic anxiety, were raised to his. Andrewshook himself mentally to see if it could possibly be a dream he washaving, and a little thrill shot through him at the reality of it all. "Nothing interesting; end of a bridge collapsed and put a rib or two outof commission, " he managed to answer. "I _knew_ it was something dreadful, " said Caroline Darrah Brown as shemoved a step nearer him. "I was really unhappy about it and I wondered ifall the other people who read your poems and watch for them and--and lovethem like I do, were worried, too. But I concluded that they would knowhow to find out about you; only I didn't. I'm glad you are here safe andthat I know it. " The puzzled expression in Andrew Sevier's face deepened. Of course he hadbecome more or less accustomed to the interest which his work had causedto be attached to his personality, and this was not the first time he hadhad a stranger read the poet into the man on first sight. They had evengone so far as to expect him to talk in blank verse he felt sure, especially when his admirer had been a member of the opposite and fairsex, but a thing like this had never happened to him before. It was, atthe least, disturbing to have a lovely woman rise out of the major's veryhearthstone and claim him as a familiar spirit with the exquisitefrankness of a child. It smacked of the wine of wizardry. He glanced ather a moment and was on the point of making a tentative inquiry when themajor came into the room. "Well, Andy boy, you're in from the fields, I see. How's the farm? Everything shipshape?" As he spoke the major shot a keen glance from under hisbeetling old brows at the pair and wisely let the situation developitself. Andrew answered his salutation promptly, then turned an amused glanceon the girl at his side. "He isn't going to introduce us, " she laughed with a friendly little lookup into his face. "I ought to have done it myself when you did, but I wasso astonished--and relieved to find you. I'm Caroline Darrah Brown. " The words were low and laughing and warm with a sweet friendliness, butthey crashed through the room like the breath of a swarm of furies. Andrew Sevier's face went white and drawn on the instant, and everymuscle in his body stiffened to a tense rigidity. His dark eyes narrowedthemselves to slits and glowed like the coals. The major's very blood stopped in his veins and his fine old face lookeddrawn and gray as he stretched out his hand and laid it on Caroline'syoung shoulder. Not a word came to his lips as he looked in Andrew'sface and waited. And as he waited a wondrous thing and piercing sweet unfolded itselfunder his keen old eyes and sank like a balm into his wise old heart. From the two deep purple pools of womanhood that were raised to his, shywith homage of him and unconscious of their own tender reverencing, Andrew Sevier drew a deep draught into his very soul. Slowly the colormounted into his face, his eyes opened themselves and a wonderful smilecurled his lips. He held out his hand and took her slender fingers into astrong clasp and held them for a long moment. Then with a smile at themajor, which was a mixture of dignity tinged with an infinite sadness, hebent over and gently kissed the white hand as he let it go. The littleceremony had more chivalry than she understood. "Its part of our ritual of welcome I'm claiming, " he said lightly as sheblushed rose pink and the divine shyness deepened in her eyes. She againburied her face in the berries. Then with a proud look into Andrew's face the major laid his hand on theyoung man's bandaged arm and bent and raised Caroline's hand to his lips. "It's a ritual, my dear, " he said, "that I'm honored in observing withhim. Friendship these days has need of rituals of ratification and thepomp of ceremonials to give it color. There's danger of its becomingprosaic. Jefferson, turn on the lights. " CHAPTER III TWO LITTLE CRIMES And then in a few weeks winter had come down from over the hills acrossthe fields and captured the city streets with a blare of northern winds, which had been met and tempered by the mellow autumn breezes that hadbeen slow to retreat and abandon the gold and crimson banners stillfluttering on the trees. The snap and crackle of the Thanksgiving frosthad melted into a long lazy silence of a few more Indian summer days sothat, with lungs filled with the intoxicating draught of this late wineof October, everybody had ridden, driven, hunted, golfed and livedafield. Then had come a second sweep of the northern winds and the city hadwakened out of its haze of desertion, turned up its lights, built up itsfires and put on the trappings of revelry and toil. The major's logs were piled the higher and crackled the louder, and hiswelcome was even more genial to the chosen spirits which gathered aroundhis library table. He and Mrs. Buchanan had succeeded in prolonging thevisit of Caroline Darrah Brown into weeks and were now holding her intothe winter months with loving insistence. The open-armed hospitality with which their very delightful little worldhad welcomed her had been positively entrancing to the girl and she hadentered into its gaieties with the joyous zest of the child that she was. Her own social experiences had been up to this time very limited, forshe had come straight from the convent in France into the household ofher semi-invalided father. He had had very few friends and in a vaguelyuncomfortable way she had been made to realize that her millions made herposition inaccessible; but by these delightful people to whom socialposition was a birthright, and wealth regarded only as a purchasing powerfor the necessities and gaieties of life, she had been adopted with muchenthusiasm. Her delight in the round of entertainments in her honor andthe innocent and slightly bewildered adventures she brought the major forconsultation kept him in a constant state of interested amusement. Suchadvice as he offered went far in preserving her unsophistication. And so the late November days found him enjoying life with a decidedlyadded zest in things, though his Immortals claimed him the moment he wasleft to his own resources and at times he even became entirely obliviousto the eddies in the lives around him. One cold afternoon he sat in hischair, buried eyes-deep in one of his old books, while across from himsat Phoebe and Andrew Sevier, bending together over a large map spreadout before them. There were stacks of blueprints at their elbows andtheir conference had evidently been an interesting one. "It's all wonderful, Andrew, " Phoebe was saying, "and I'm proud indeedthat they have accepted your solution of such an important constructionproblem; but why must you go back? Aren't the commissions offered youhere, the plays and the demand for your writing enough? Why not stay athome for a year or two at least?" "It's the _call_ of it, Phoebe, " he answered. "I get restless and there'snothing for it but the hard work of the camp. It's lonely but it has itscompensations, for the visions come down there as they don't here. Youknow how I like to be with all of you; and it's home--but the depressiongets more than I can stand at times and I must go. You understand betterthan the rest, I think, and I always count on you to help me off. " As hespoke he rested his head on his hands and looked across the table intothe fire. His eyes were somber and the strong lines in his face cut deepwith a grim melancholy. Phoebe's frank eyes softened as they looked at him. They had grown uptogether, friends in something of a like fortune and she understood himwith a frank comradeship that comforted them both and went far to thedistraction of young David Kildare who, as he said, trusted Andrew butlooked for every possible surprising maneuver in the conduct of Phoebe. And because she understood Andrew Phoebe was silent for a time, tracingthe lines on his map with a pencil. "Then you'll have to go, " she said softly at last, "but don't stay solong again. " She glanced across at the top of the major's head whichshowed a rampant white lock over the edge of his book. "We miss you; andyou owe it to some of us to come back oftener from now on. " "I always will, " answered Andrew, quickly catching her meaning andsmiling with a responsive tenderness in a glance at the absorbed oldgentleman around the corner of the table. "It is harder to go this timethan ever, in a way; and yet the staying's worse. I'm giving myself untilspring, though I don't know why. I--" Just then from the drawing-room beyond there came a crash of soft chordson the piano and David's voice rose high and sweet across the rooms. Hehad gone to the piano to sing for Caroline who never tired of his negromelodies and southern love songs. He also had a store of war ballads withwhich it delighted him to tease and regale her, but to-day his mood hadbeen decidedly on the sentimental vein. "I want no stars in Heaven to guide me, I need no............................ But, oh, the kingdom of my heart, love, Lies within thy loving arms.... " His voice dropped a note lower and the rest of the distinctly enunciatedwords failed to reach through the long rooms. Phoebe also failed tocatch a quick breath that Andrew drew as he began stacking a pile ofblue-prints into a leather case. "David Kildare, " remarked the old major as he looked up over his book, "makes song the vehicle of expression of as many emotions in onehalf-hour as the ordinary man lives through in a lifetime. Had you notbetter attend to the safeguarding of Caroline Darrah's unsophistication, Phoebe?" "I wouldn't interrupt him for worlds, Major, " laughed Phoebe as she arosefrom her chair. "I'm going to slip by the drawing-room and hurry down tothat meeting of the Civic Improvement Association from which I hope toget at least a half column. Andrew'll go in and see to them. " "Never!" answered Andrew promptly with a smile. "I'm going to beat aretreat and walk down with you. The major must assume thatresponsibility. Good-by!" And in a moment they had both made theirescape, to the major's vast amusement. For the time being the music in the drawing-room had stopped and Davidand Caroline were deep in an animated conversation. "The trouble about it is that I am about to have my light put out, " Davidwas complaining as he sat on the piano-stool, glaring at a vase ofunoffending roses on a table. "Being a ray of sunshine around the housefor a sick poet is no job for a runabout child like me. " "But he's so much better now, David, that I should think you would beperfectly happy. Though of course you are still a little uneasy abouthim. " As Caroline Darrah spoke she swayed the long-stemmed rose she heldin her hand and tipped it against one of its mates in the vase. "Uneasy, nothing! There's not a thing in the world the matter with him;ribs are all in commission and his collar-bone hitched on again. It'sjust a case of moonie sulks with him. He never was the real glad boy, butnow he runs entirely to poetry and gloom. He won't go anywhere but overhere to chew book-rags with the major or to read goo to Phoebe, which shepasses on to you. Wish I'd let him die in the swamps; chasing away toPanama for him was my mistake, I see. " And David ruffled a young rosethat drooped confidingly over toward him. "Why did he ever go to Panama? Why does he build bridges and things?Other people like you and me can do that sort of thing; but he--, " andCaroline Darrah raised her eyes full of naive questioning. "Heavens, woman, poetry never in the world would grub-stake six feet ofhusky man! But that's just like you and Phoebe and all the other women. You would like to feed me to the alligators, but the poet must sit in theshade and chew eggs and grape juice. You trample on my feelings, child, "and David sighed plaintively. Caroline eyed him a moment across the rose she held to her lips, thenlaughed delightedly. "Indeed, indeed, I couldn't stand losing you, David, nor could Phoebe. Don't imagine it!" And Caroline confessed her affection for him with thenaïveté with which a child offers a flower. The absolute entente cordiale which had existed between her and Phoebefrom the moment Mrs. Buchanan had presented them to each other in thedusk-shadowed library, had been extended to include David Kildare. He wasduly appreciative of her almost appealing friendship, chaffed her aboutthe three governors, depended upon her to further his tumultuous suit, admired her beauty, insisted upon it in season and out, and initiated herinto the social intricacies of his gay set with the greatest glee. "I don't trust you one little bit, Caroline Darrah Brown, " David broke inon her moment's silent appreciation of him and his friendliness. "Youlook at him kinder partial-like, too. " "Oh, one _must_ admire him, his poems are so lovely! I have watched forthem from the first one years ago. Do you remember the one where he--" "Don't remember a single line of a single one, and don't want to!Phoebe's always quoting them at me. She's got a book of 'em. See if Idon't smash him up some day if I have to listen to much more of it. "David's face was a study in the contradictions of a tormented grin. Caroline eyed him again for a moment across the rose and then they bothlaughed delightedly. But David was for the pressing of his point just thesame. "Dear Daughter of the Three, " he pleaded, "can't you help me out?Mollycoddle him a bit. Do, now, that's a good child! Keep him'interested', as _she_ calls it! You are quite as good to look at asPhoebe and are enough more--more, "--and David paused for a word thatwould compare Caroline's appeal and Phoebe's brisk challenge. "Yes, I understand. I really am _more_ so; but how can I help you out ifhe never even sees me when I'm there?" And Caroline raised eyes to himthat held a hint of wistfulness in their banter. "The old mole-eyed grump never sees anybody nor anything. But let's plota scheme. This three-handed game doesn't suit me; promise to be good andsit in. I haven't had Phoebe to myself for the long time. He needs aheart interest of his own--I'm tired of lending him mine. You're notbusy--that's a sweet girl! Don't make me feel I inherited you fornothing, " said David in a most beguiling voice as he moved a shade nearerto her. "I promise, I promise! If you take that tone with me, I'm afraid not to:but I feel you mistake my powers, " and Caroline laid the rose across herknee and dropped her long lashes over her eyes. "I think I'll fail withyour poet; something tells me it is a vain task. Let's put it in thehands of the gods. It may interest them. " "No, I'm going to shoo him in here right now, " answered David, bent uponthe immediate accomplishment of his scheme for the relief of his veryindependent lady-love from her friendly durance. "You just wait and get aline of moon-talk ready for him. Keep that rose in your hand and handleyour eyes carefully. " "Oh, but it's impossible!" exclaimed Caroline with real alarm in hervoice. She rose and the flower fell shattered at her feet. "I'm going tohave a little business talk with the major before Captain Cantrell andthe other gentlemen come. I have an appointment with him. Won't you leaveit to the gods?" "No, for the gods might not know Phoebe. She'd hunt a hot brick for asick kitten if I was freezing to death, and besides I need her in mybusiness at this very moment. " "Caroline, my dear, " said the major from the door into the library, "fromthe strenuosity in the tones of David Kildare I judge he is discussinghis usual topic. Phoebe and Andrew have just gone and left their good-bysfor you both. " "Now, Major, " demanded David indignantly, "how could you let her get awaywhen you had her here?" "Young man, " answered the major, "the constraining of a woman of thesetimes is well-nigh impossible, as you should have found out after yourrepeated efforts in that direction. " "That's it, Major, you can't hang out any signal for them now; you haveto grab them as they go past, swing out into space and pray for strengthto hold on. I believe if you stood still they would come and feed out ofyour hand a heap quicker than they will be whistled down--if you can getthe nerve to try 'em. Think I'll go and see. " And David took hisstudiedly unhurried departure. "David Kildare translates courtship into strange modern terms, " remarkedthe major as he led Caroline into the library and seated her in Mrs. Matilda's low chair near his own. "The roses are blooming this morning, my dear, " he said, lookingwith delight at the soft color in her cheeks and the stars in herblack-lashed, violet eyes. A shaft of sunlight glinted in the gold of herhair which was coiled low and from which little tendrils curled down onher white neck. She was very dainty and lovely, was Caroline Darrah Brown, with theloveliness of a windflower and young with the innocent youngness of anApril day. She was slightly different from any girl the major had everknown and he observed her type with the greatest interest. She had been tutored and trained and French-convented and specialized byadepts in the inculcating of every air and grace with which the women ofvaster wealth are expected to be equipped. Money and the girl had beenthe ruling passions of Peters Brown's life and the one had been all forthe serving purposes of the other. It had been the one aim of hisexistence to bring to a perfect flowering the new-born bud his southernwife had left him, and he had succeeded. Yet she seemed so slight awoman-thing to be bearing the burden of a great wealth and a greatloneliness that the major's eyes grew very tender as he asked: "What is it, clear, a crumpled rose-leaf?" "Major, " she answered as her slender fingers opened and closed a book onthe table near her, "did you realize that two months have passed since Icame to--to--" "Came _home_, child, " prompted the major as he touched lightly therestless hand near his own. "I am beginning to feel as if it might be that, and yet I don't know--notuntil I talk to you about it all. Everybody has been good to me. I feelthat they really care and I love it--and them all! But, Major, didyou--know--my father--well?" "Yes, my dear. " He answered, looking her straight in the eyes, "I knewPeters Brown and had pleasantly hostile relations with him always. " "This memorandum--I got it together before I came down here, while I wassettling up his estate. It is the list of the investments he made whilein the South for the twenty years after the war. I want to talk them overwith you. " She looked at the major squarely and determinedly. "Fire away, " he answered with courage in his voice that belied thefeeling beneath it. "I see that in eighteen seventy-nine he bought lumber lands from HayesDonelson. The price seems to have been practically nominal in view ofwhat he sold a part of them for three years later. Was Hayes DonelsonPhoebe's father? I want to know all about him. " "My dear, you are giving a large order for ancient history--CaptainDonelson couldn't fill it himself if he were alive. Those lumber landswere just a stick or two that he threw on the grand bonfire. He soldeverything he had and instituted and ran the most inflammatory newspaperin the South. He gloried in an attitude of non-reconstruction and diedwhen Phoebe was a year old. Her mother raised Phoebe by keeping boarders, but failed to raise the mortgage on the family home. She died trying andPhoebe has kept her own sleek little head above water since her sixteenthyear by reporting and editing Dimity Doings on the paper her fatherfounded. I think she has learned a pretty good swimming stroke by thistime. It is still a measure ahead of that of David Kildare and--" "Oh, you _must_ help me make her take what would have been a fair pricefor those lands, Major. I'm determined--I--I--" Caroline's voice falteredbut her head was well up. "I'm determined; but we'll talk of that later. He bought the Cantrell land and divided it up into the first improvedcity addition. Was it, was it 'carpetbagging'?" She flushed as she saidthe word--"Was it pressure? Were the Cantrells in need?" "Not for long, my dear, not for long! Mrs. Tom took that money and boughtcows for the east farm, ran a dairy in opposition to Matilda's and thengot her into a combine to ship gilt-edge to Cincinnati. I expected themto skim the milky way any night and put a star brand of butter on themarket. They made a great deal of money and were proportionately hard tomanage. Young Tom inherits from his mother and makes paying combines instocks. Old Tom hasn't a thing to do but sit in the sun and spin talesabout battles he was and was not in. It wouldn't do to drag up thatpinched period of his life; he is too expansive now to be made to recallit. " The major smiled invitingly as if he had hopes of an interestedquestion that would turn the trend of the conversation, but CarolineDarrah held herself sternly to the matter in hand. "And you, I see a sale of half of your land at--" "Caroline Darrah Brown, look me straight in the eyes, " interrupted themajor in a commanding voice. He sat up and bent his keen black eyes thatsparkled under his heavy white brows with absolute luminosity upon thegirl at his side. When aroused the major was a live wire and he wasbuckling on his sword to do battle with a woman-trouble, and a dire one. "Now, " he continued, "I'm going to say things to you that you are tounderstand and remember, young woman. Your father did come down among uswith what you have heard called a 'carpetbag' in his hands, but it wasn'tan _empty_ one: and while the sums he handed out to each of us might beconsidered inadequate, still they were a purchasing power at a timewhen things were congested for the lack of any circulating mediumwhatever. True, I sold him half my thousand acres for a song; but thesong fenced the other half, bought implements and stock, and made Matildapossible. She was eighteen and I was twenty-eight when we joined forcesand it was decidedly to the tune of your father's 'song'. It was the samewith the rest of his--friends. You must see that in the painful processesof reconstructing us the carpetbag had its uses. If it went awayplethoric with coal and iron and lumber, it left a little gold in itswake. And Peters Brown--" "Major, " said Caroline in a brave voice, "it killed him, the memory of itand not being able to bring me back to her people. He was changed and herealized that he left me very much alone in the world. If there had beenany of her immediate family alive we might have felt differently--buther friends--I didn't know that I would be welcomed. Now--now--I beginto hope. I want to give some of it back! I have so much--" "Caroline, child, " answered the major with a smile that was infinitelytender, "we don't need it! We've had a hand-to-hand fight to inherit theland of our fathers but we're building fortunes fast; we and theyoungsters. The gray line has closed up its ranks and toed hard marksuntil it presents a solid front once more; some of it bent and shaky butsupported on all sides by keen young blood. A solid front, I say, and afriendly one, flying no banners of bitterness--don't you like us?" andthe smile broadened until it warmed the very blood in Caroline Darrah'sheart. "Yes, " she said as she lifted her eyes to his and laid both her hands inthe lean strong one he held out for her then, "and all that awful feelinghas gone completely. I feel--feel new born!" "And isn't it a great thing that we mortals are given a few extra nataldays? If we were born all at one time we couldn't so well enjoy theprocesses. Now, I intend to assume that fate has laid you on my door-stepand--" "Dearie me, " said Mrs. Buchanan as she sailed into the room with colorsflying in cheeks and eyes, "did Phoebe go on to that meeting after all?Did she promise to come back? Where's Andrew? Caroline, child, what haveyou and the major been doing all the afternoon? It's after four and youare both still indoors. " "I have been adopting Caroline Darrah and she has been adopting me, "answered the major as he caught hold of the lace that trailed from one ofhis wife's wrists. "I think I am about to persuade her to stay with us. Ifind I need attention occasionally and you are otherwise engaged for thewinter. " "Isn't he awful, Caroline, " smiled Mrs. Matilda as she sank for a momenton a chair near them, "when I haven't a thought in the day that is notfor him? But I must hurry and tell Tempie that they will all be here fromthe philharmonic musicale for tea. Dear, please see that the flowers arearranged; I had to leave it to Jane this morning. I find I must run overand speak to Mrs. Shelby about something important, for a moment. Shall Ihave buttered biscuits or cake for tea? Caroline, love, just decide andtell Tempie. I'll be back in a minute, " and depositing an airy kiss onthe major's scalp lock and bestowing a smile on Caroline, she departed. The major listened until he heard the front door close then said with oneof his slow little smiles, "If I couldn't shut my eye and get a mentalpicture of her in a white sunbonnet with her skirts tucked up trudgingalong behind me dropping corn in the furrows as I opened them with theplow, I might feel that I ought to--er--remonstrate with her. But thereare bubbles in the nature of most women that will rise to the surface assoon as the cork is removed. Matilda is a good brand of extra dry and thecork was in a long time--rammed down tight--bless her!" "She is the very dearest thing I ever knew, " answered Caroline with acurly smile around her tender mouth. "A letter she wrote while under thepressure of the cork is my chiefest treasure. It was written to welcomeme when I was born and I found it last summer, old and yellow. It waswhat made me think I might come--_home_. " "That was like Matilda, " answered the major with a smile in his eyes. "She was putting in a claim for you then, though she didn't realize it. Women have always worked combinations by wireless at long time and longdistance. Better make it buttered biscuits, and Phoebe likes them withplenty of butter. " Tempie's adoption of Caroline Darrah had been as complete and asenthusiastic as the rest of them and she had proceeded forthwith to puther through a course of domestic instruction that delighted the hearts ofthem both. She never failed to bemoan the fate that had left the childignorant of matters of such importance and she was stern in her endeavorto correct the pernicious neglect. She had to admit, however, thatCaroline was an extraordinarily apt pupil and she laid it all to what shecalled "the Darrah strain of cooking blood, " though she was as proud aspossible over each triumph. Nothing pleased them both more than to haveMrs. Buchanan occasionally leave culinary arrangements to theirco-administration. An hour later a gay party was gathered around the table in thedrawing-room. The major sat near at hand enjoying it hugely, and hiscomments were dropped like philosophical crystals into the swell of theconversation. Mrs. Cherry Lawrence had come in with Mrs. Matilda in all the bravery ofa most striking, becoming and expensive second mourning costume, and shewas keenly alive to every situation that might be made to compass eventhe smallest amount of gaiety. Her lavender embroideries were the onlyreminders of the existence of the departed Cherry, and their lavishnesswas a direct defiance of his years of effort in the curtailing of thetastes of his expensive wife. Tom Cantrell's lean dark face of Indian cast lit up like a transparencywhen she arrived and he left Polly Farrell's side so quickly that Pollyalmost dropped the lemon fork with which she was maneuvering, in hersurprise at his sudden desertion. In a moment he had divested the widowof a long cloth and sable coat that would have made Cherry sit up andgroan if he had even had a grave-dream about it. She bestowed a smile onPolly, a still more impressive one on the major and sank into a chairnear Phoebe. "Why, where is David Kildare?" she asked interestedly. "I thought hewould be here before me. He promised to come. Phoebe, you are sweet inthat dark gray. Has anybody anything interesting to tell?" "I have, " answered Polly as she passed Phoebe a cup and a mischievoussmile, for Mrs. Cherry's appointment with David tickled Polly's risiblesto an alarming extent. "There's the most heavenly man down here fromBoston to see Caroline Darrah Brown and she _neglects_ him. I'm so sorryfor him that I don't know what will happen. I'm--" "Why, where is he?" interrupted Mrs. Cherry with the utmost cordiality. They all laughed as Polly parted her charming lips and passed thequestioner the lemon slices with impressive obviousness. "He's gone to the station to see about his horses that he has had shippeddown. We're going to hunt some more, no matter how cold; all of us, Caroline and David and the rest. " "Andrew Sevier hasn't hunted at all this fall, as fond of it as he is. He'll never come now that you've annexed a foreign element, Polly. He'samong strangers so much that he's rather absurd about wanting the closecircle of just his old friends to be unbroken when he's home. Where is heto-day?" As she spoke Mrs. Cherry had looked at Caroline Darrah with aglance in which Phoebe detected a slight insolence and at which the majornarrowed his observant eyes. "Why, he's gone down to the station with Caroline's friend to see abouthaving the horses sent out to Seven Oaks, " answered Phoebe in a smoothcool voice. "I think all of us have been disappointed that Andrew has hadto be so careful since his accident; but now that he can come over hereevery day to book gloat with the major and have Mrs. Matilda and Tempie, to say nothing of Caroline Darrah, the new star cook-lady, to feed himup, I think we can go about our own affairs unworried over him. " Thesweet smile that Phoebe bent upon the widow was so delicious that themajor rattled the sugar tongs on the tea-tray by way of relief from anunendurably suppressed chuckle. "But when I hunt next David has promised me possums and persimmons, " saidCaroline Darrah from her seat on the sofa beside Phoebe. She was totallyoblivious of the small tongue-tilt just completed. "He says the firstdamp night on the last quarter of the moon when the wind is from thesoutheast and--" "Howdy, people!" came an interrupting call from the hall and at thatmoment David himself came into the room. "I'm late but I've been fourplaces hunting for you, Phoebe, and had three cups of tea in thescramble. However, I would like a buttered biscuit if somebody feeds itto me. I've had a knock-out blow and I've got news to tell. " "You can tell it before you get the biscuit, " said Phoebe cold-heartedly, but she laid two crisp disks on the edge of his saucer. She apparentlyfailed to see that Mrs. Cherry was endeavoring to pass him the plate. "It's only that Milly Overton has perpetrated two more crimes on thecommunity, at three-thirty to-day--assorted boy and girl. " And Davidgrinned with sheer delight at having projected such a bomb in the circle. "What!" demanded Phoebe while Mrs. Cherry lay back in her chair andfanned herself, and Mrs. Buchanan paused with suspended teapot. "Yes, " he answered jubilantly, "Of course little Mistake is only two anda quarter and Crimie can just toddle on his hocks at one and a fifthyears; but the two little crimes are here, and are going to stay. BillyBob is down at the club getting his back slapped off about it. He'saccessory you understand. He says Milly is radiant and wants all of youto come and see them right away. But what I want to see is GrandmaShelby--won't she rage? I'm going to send her a message ofcongratulations and then stand away. Just watch for--" "Why--I don't quite understand, " said Caroline Darrah as she leanedforward with puzzled eyes. "Neither do any of the rest of us, " answered David gleefully. "We didn'tunderstand how Billy Bob managed to pluck Mildred from the golden-dollarShelby stem in the first place, at a salary of one twenty-five a monthout at Hob's mills. But Billy Bob is the brave boy and he marched rightup and told the old lady about the first kid as soon as he came. Then sheglared at him and said in an awful tone, 'Mistake. ' Billy Bob just oozedout of that door and Mistake the youngster has been ever since. I namedthe next Crimie before _she_ got to it. But watch her rage, poor olddame! It's up to somebody to remonstrate with Milly about this unbecomingconduct it seems to me, " and David glanced around the little circle forhis laugh which he promptly received. Only Phoebe sat with her head turned from him and Caroline Darrahexclaimed in distress: "How could her mother not care for them?" "Tempie, " said Mrs. Buchanan, "pack up a basket of every kind of jelly. Get that little box I fixed day before yesterday; you know it; wasn't itfortunate that I embroidered two? And tell Jeff I want the carriage atsix. " "And, Tempie, tell Jeff to get you two bottles of that seventy-twobrandy; no, maybe the sixty-eight will be better; it's apple, and applesand colic bear a synthetic relation which in this case may be reversed. Those children must be started off in life properly. " And the major'seyes shone with the most amused interest. "What's that?" asked David in the general excitement that had arisen at afarther realization of his news. "Don't you want them to join the 'statewide' band, Major? Aren't you going to give them a chance to fly a whiteribbon?" "Well, I don't know, " answered the major with a judicial eye, "temperanceis a quality of mind and not solely of throat. Let's depend somewhat oneradication by future education and not give the colic a start. " "Don't you think it would be nice for you girls to drive down with me andtake the babies some congratulations and flowers, Phoebe?" asked Mrs. Buchanan an hour later as they all lingered over the empty cups. "Willyou come too, David?" "Yes, " answered Phoebe, "I think it would be lovely, but you and Carolinedrive down and I will walk in with David, I think. Ready, David?" AndPhoebe gathered up her muff and gloves and gave her hand to the major. "David, " she said after they had reached the street and were swingingalong in the early twilight; and as she spoke she looked him full in theface with her gray level glance that counted whenever she chose to useit, "is it your idea--do you think it fair to ridicule Mildred about--thebabies?" "Why, " answered the completely floored Kildare, "I just haven't any ideaon the subject. Everybody was laughing about it--and isn't it--er--alittle funny?" "No, " answered Phoebe emphatically, "it isn't _funny_ and if you begin tolaugh everybody else will. It may hurt Milly, she is so gentle and dear, and you are their best friend. I won't have it! I won't! I'm tired, anyway, of having fun made of all the sacred things in life. All of usswing around in a silly whirl and when a woman like Mildred begins tolive her life in a--er--natural way, we--ridicule! She is brave andstrong and works hard; and she has the _real_ things of life and makesthe sacrifices for them. While we--" "Oh, heavenly hope, Phoebe!" gasped David Kildare, "don't rub it in! Isee it now--a lot of magazine stuff jogging the women up about the kidsand all--and here Milly is a hero and we--the jolly fun-pokers. I've gotto help 'em some way! Wish Billy Bob would sell me this last bunch; guesshe would--one, anyway?" And the contrite David gazed down at Phoebe inwhose upturned eyes there dawned a wealth of mirth. "David, " she said, perhaps more softly than she had ever spoken to him inall the days of his pursuit, "I know--I felt sure that you felt all rightabout it. I couldn't bear to have you say or do--" "Now, I'll 'fess a thing to you that I didn't think wild horses coulddrag out of me, Phoebe. I was down there an hour ago in the back hall ofthat flat and Billy Bob let me hold the pair of 'em and squeeze 'em. Iguess we both--just shed a few, you know, because he was so excited. Menare such slobs at times--when women don't know about it. " And Davidwinked fiercely at the early electric light that glowed warm against thewinter sky. "And you are a very dear boy, David, " said Phoebe softly as her handslipped out of her muff and dropped into his and rested there for justone enchanting half-second. "Dearer than you know in some ways. No, don'tthink of coming up with me, you've paid your visit of welcome. Goodnight! Yes, I think so--in the afternoon about three o'clock and we cango on to Mrs. Pepton's reception. Good night again!" "Phoebe, " he called after her, "the one with the yellow fuzz is the girl, buy her for me if you can flimflam Milly into it! Any old price, youknow. Hurrah, America for the Anglo-Saxons! Hurrah for Milly and Dixie!" CHAPTER IV ACCORDING TO SOLOMON "And it was by this very pattern, Caroline, I made the dozen I sent MaryCaroline for you. See the little slips fold over and hold up thepetticoats, " and Mrs. Buchanan held up a tiny garment for Caroline Darrahto admire. They sat by the sunny window in her living-room and both weresewing on dainty cambric and lace. Caroline Darrah's head bent over thepiece of ruffling in her hand with flower-like grace and the long linesfrom her throat suggested decidedly a very lovely Preraphaelite angel. Her needle moved slowly and unaccustomedly but she had the air of doingthe hemming bravely if fearfully. "Isn't it darling?" she said as she raised her head for a half-second, then immediately dropped her eyes and went on printing her stitchescarefully. "What else was in that box, I feel I need to know?" she asked. "Let me see! The dozen little shirts, they were made out of some ofmy own trousseau things because of a scarcity of linen in those days, and two little embroidered caps and a blue cashmere sack and a set ofcrocheted socks and--and the major sent brandy, he always does. Ihave the letter she wrote me about it all. And to think she had toleave--" Mrs. Matilda's eyes misted as she paused to thread her needle. "She didn't realize--that, and think of what she felt when she opened thebox, " said Caroline as she raised her eyes that smiled through athreatened shower. "Oh, I mustn't let the tears fall on Little Sister'sruffle!" she added quickly as she took up her work. "That reminds me of an accident to the shirts I made for Phoebe. Theywere being bleached in the sun when a calf took a fancy to them andchewed two of them entirely up before we discovered him. I was soprovoked, for I had no more linen as fine as I wanted. " "Of course the calf ate up my shirts, " came in Phoebe's laughing voicefrom the doorway where she had been standing unobserved for severalminutes, watching Mrs. Buchanan and Caroline. "Something is alwayschewing at my affairs but Mrs. Matilda shoos them away for me sometimesstill--even _calves_ when it is positively necessary. How veryindustrious you do look! At times even I sigh for a needle, though Iwouldn't know what to do with it. There seems to be something in awoman's soul that nothing but a needle satisfies; morbid craving, that!" "Phoebe, I want to make something for you. I feel I must as soon as thesepetticoats for Little Sister are done. What shall it be?" and CarolineDarrah beamed upon Phoebe with the warmest of inter-woman glances. Theaffection for Phoebe which had possessed the heart of Caroline Darrah haddeepened daily and to its demands, Phoebe, for her, had been mostunusually responsive. "At your present rate of stitching I will have a year or two to decide, beautiful, " she answered as she settled down on the broad window-seatnear them. "David Kildare and I have come to lunch, Mrs. Matilda, and themajor has sent him over for Andrew. I hope he brings him, but I doubt it. I have told Tempie and she says she is glad to have us, " she added asMrs. Buchanan turned and looked in the direction of the kitchen regions. They all smiled, for the understanding that existed between Phoebe andTempie was the subject of continual jest. "Have you seen the babies to-day?" asked Caroline as she drew a long newthread through the needle. "Isn't it lovely the way people are makingthem presents? Mr. Capers says the men at the mills are going to givethem each a thousand dollar mill bond. " "Well, I doubt seriously if they will live to use the bonds if some onedoes not stop David from trying experiments with them, " answered Phoebewith a laugh. "After dinner last night he came in with two littlesleeping hammock machines which he insisted in putting up on the wall forthem. If the pulley catches you have to stand on a chair to extract them;and if it slips, down they come. Milly was so grateful and let him playwith them for an hour; she's a sweet soul. " "Has he sent any more food?" asked Mrs. Matilda as they all laughed. "Two more cases of a new kind he saw advertised in a magazine. Somebodymust tell him that--Milly is equal to the situation. Billy Bob _won't_;and so the cases continue to arrive. The pantry is crowded with them andthey have sent a lot to the Day Nursery, " and Phoebe slipped from thewindow-seat down on to the rug at Caroline's feet in a perfect ecstasyof mirth. "But he is just the dearest boy, Phoebe, " said Caroline Darrah as shepaused in her sewing to caress the sleek, black, braided head tipped backagainst her knee. There was the shadow of reproach in her voice as shesmiled down into the gray eyes upturned to hers. "Yes, " answered Phoebe, instantly on the defensive, "he is just exactlythat, Caroline Darrah Brown--and he doesn't seem to be able to get overit. I'm afraid it's chronic with him. " "He's young yet, " Mrs. Buchanan remarked as she clipped a thread with herbright scissors. "No, " said Phoebe slowly, "he is six years older than I am and that makeshim thirty-two. I have earned my living for ten years and a man fiveyears younger who sits at a desk next to mine at the office is takingcare of his mother and educating two younger brothers on a salary that isless than mine--but _David_ is a dear! Did you see the little coats Pollysent the babies?" she asked quickly to close the subject and to cover anote of pain she had discovered in her own voice. "They were lovely, " answered Mrs. Buchanan. "Now let me show you how toroll and whip your ruffle, Caroline dear, " she added as she bent overCaroline's completed hem. In a moment they were both immersed in ascientific discussion of under-and-over stitch. Phoebe clasped her knees in her arms and gazed into the fire. Her owninvoluntary summing up of David Kildare had struck into her innerconsciousness like a blow. And Phoebe could not have explained to evenherself what it was in her that demanded the hewer of wood and drawer ofwater in a man--in David. Decidedly Phoebe's demands were for elementalsand she questioned Kildare's right to his leisurely life based on theJeffersonian ideals of his forefathers. And while they sewed and chatted the hour away, over in the library themajor and David were in interested conclave. "Now, I leave it to you, Major, if he isn't just the limit, " said Davidon his return from his mission for the purpose of drawing Andrew from hislair. "I couldn't budge him. He is writing away like all possessed with atwo-apple-and-a-cracker lunch on the table beside him. He seems to enjoya death-starve. " "David, " said the major as he laid aside the book he had been buried inand began to polish his glasses, "you make no allowances whatever for theartistic temperament. When a man is making connection with his solarplexus he doesn't consider the consumption of food of paramountimportance. Now in this treatise of Aristotle--" "Well, anyway, I've made up my mind to fix up something between him andCaroline Darrah. He's got to get a heart interest of his own and letmine alone. The child is daffy about his poetry and moons at him all thetime out of the corners of her eyes, dandy eyes at that; but the oldink-swiller acts as if she wasn't there at all. What'll I do to make himjust see her? Just see her--_see her_--that'll be enough!" "David, " said the major quietly as he looked into the fire with hisshaggy brows bent over his keen eyes, "the combination of a man heart anda woman heart makes a dangerous explosive at the best, but here arethings that make it fatal. The one you are planning would be deadly. " "Why, why in the world shouldn't I touch them off? Perfectly nice girl, all right man and--" "Boy, have you forgotten that I told you of the night Andrew Sevier'sfather killed himself; yes, that he had sat the night through at thepoker table with Peters Brown? Brown offered some restoration compromiseto the widow but she refused--you know the struggle that she made andthat it killed her. We both know the grit it took for Andrew to chiselhimself into what he is. The first afternoon he met the girl in here, right by this table, for an instant I was frightened--only _she_ didn'tknow, thank God! The Almighty gardens His women-things well and fends offinfluences that shrivel; it behooves men to do the same. " "So that's it, " exclaimed Kildare, serious in his dismay. "Of course Iremember it, but I had forgotten to connect up the circumstances. It's amine all right, Major--and the poor little girl! She reads his poetrywith Phoebe and to me and she admires him and is deferential and--thatgirl--the sweetest thing that ever happened! I don't know whether to goover and smash him or to cry on his collar. " "Dave, " answered the major as he folded his hands and looked off acrossthe housetops glowing in the winter sun, "some snarls in our life-linesonly the Almighty can unravel; He just depends on us to keep hands off. Andrew is a fine product of disastrous circumstances. A man who can builda bridge, tunnel a mountain and then sit down by a construction camp-fireat night and write a poem and a play, must cut deep lines in life andhe'll not cut them in a woman's heart--if he can help it. " "And she must never know, Major, _never_, " said David with distress inhis happy eyes; "we must see to that. It ought to be easy to keep. It wasso long ago that nobody remembers it. But wait--that is what Mrs. CherryLawrence meant when she said to Phoebe in Caroline's presence that it wasjust as well under the circumstances that the committee had not askedAndrew to write the poem for the unveiling of the statue. I wondered atthe time why Phoebe dealt her such a knock-out glance that even Istaggered. And she's given her cold-storage attentions ever since. Mrs. Cherry rather fancies Andy, I gather. Would she dare, do you think?" "Women, " remarked the major dryly, "when man-stalking make very cruelenemies for the weaker of their kind. Let's be thankful that pursuit is aperverted instinct in them that happens seldom. We can trust much toPhoebe. The Almighty puts the instinct for mother guarding all younger orlesser women into the heart of superbly sexed women like Phoebe Donelson, and with her aroused we may be able to keep it from the child. " "Ah, but it is sad, Major, " said David in a low voice deeply moved withemotion. "Sad for her who does not know--and for him who does. " "And it was farther reaching than that, Dave, " answered the major slowly, and the hand that held the dying pipe trembled against the table. "AndrewSevier was a loss to us all at the time and to you for whom we builded. The youngest and strongest and best of us had been mowed down before afour-years' rain of bullets and there were few enough of us left to buildagain. And of us all he had the most constructive power. With the samebuoyant courage that he had led our regiment in battle did he lead theremnant of us in reconstructing our lives. He was gay and optimistic, laughed at bitterness and worked with infectious spirits and superbforce. We all depended on him and followed him keenly. We loved him andlet ourselves be laughed into his schemes. It was his high spirits andtemperament that led to his gaming and tragedy. Nearly thirty years he'sbeen dead, the happy Andrew. This boy's like him, very like him. " "I see it--I see it, " answered David slowly, "and all of that glad heartwas bred in Andy, Major, and it's there under his sadness. Heavens, haven't I seen it in the hunting field as he landed over six stiff barson a fast horse? It's in some of his writing and sometimes it flashes inhis eyes when he is excited. I've seen it there lately more often thanever before. God, Major, last night his eyes fairly danced when I plaguedCaroline into asking him to whom he wrote that serenade which I have setto music and sing for her so often. It hurts me all over--it makesme weak--" "It's hunger, David, lunch is almost ready, " said Phoebe who had comeinto the room in time to catch his last words. "Why, where is Andrew?Wouldn't he come?" "No, " answered Kildare quickly, covering his emotion with a laugh as herefused to meet Caroline Darrah's eyes which wistfully asked the samequestion that Phoebe had voiced, "he is writing a poem--about---about, "his eyes roamed the room wildly for he had got into it, and his stock oforiginal poem-subjects was very short. Finally his music lore yieldeda point, "It's about a girl drinking--only with her eyes youunderstand--and--" "He could save himself that trouble, " laughed Phoebe, "for somebody hasalready written that; did it some time ago. Run stop him, David. " "No, " answered David with recovered spirit, "I'd flag a train for you, Phoebe, but I don't intend to side-track a poem for anybody. Besides, I'mhungry and I see Jeff with a tray. Mrs. Matilda, please put CarolineDarrah by me. She's attentive and Phoebe just diets--me. " And while they laughed and chatted and feasted the hour away, across thestreet Andrew sat with his eyes looking over on to the major's red roofwhich was shrouded in a mist of yesterdays through which he was watchinga slender boy toil his way. When he was eight he had carried a long routeof the daily paper and he could feel now the chill dark air out intowhich he had slipped as his mother stood at the door and watched him downthe street with sad and hungry eyes, the gaunt mother who had neversmiled. He had fought and punched and scuffled in the dawn for his bundleof papers; and he had fought and scuffled for all he had got of life formany years. But a result had come--and it was rich. How he had managed aneducation he could hardly see himself; only the major had helped. Notmuch, but just enough to make it possible. And David had always stood by. Kildare's fortune had come from some almost forgotten lumber lands thathis father had failed to heave into the Confederate maelstrom. Perhaps ithad come a little soon for the very best upbuilding of the character ofDavid Kildare, but he had stood shoulder to shoulder with them all in thefight for the establishment of the new order of things and his generositywith himself and his wealth had been superb. The delight with which hemade a gift of himself to any cause whatsoever, rather tended to blightthe prospects of what might have been a brilliant career at law. With hisbacking Hobson Capers had opened the cotton mills on a margin of nocapital and much grit. Then Tom Cantrell had begun stock manipulationson a few blocks of gas and water, which his mother and Andrew had put upthe money to buy--and nerve. It was good to think of them all now in the perspective of the then. Werethere any people on earth who could swing the pendulum like those scionsof the wilderness cavaliers and do it with such dignity? He was tastingan aftermath and he found it sweet--only the bitterness that had killedhis mother before he was ten. And across the street sat the daughter ofthe man who had pressed the cup to her lips--with her father's millionsand her mother's purple eyes. He dropped his hand on his manuscript and began to write feverishly. Thenin a moment he paused. The Panama campfire, beside which he had writtenhis first play, that was running in New York now, rose in a vision. Wasit any wonder that the managers had jumped at the chance to produce thefirst drama from the country's newly acquired jungle? The lines had beenrife with the struggle and intrigue of the great canal cutting. It reallywas a ripping play he told himself with a smile--and this other? Helooked at it a moment in a detached way. This other throbbed. He gathered the papers together in his hand and walked to the window. Thesun was now aslant through the trees. It was late and they must have allgone their ways from across the street; only the major would be alone andappreciative. Andrew smiled quizzically as he regarded the pages in hishand--but it was all so to the good to read the stuff to the old fellowwith his Immortals ranged round! "Great company that, " he mused to himself as he let himself out of theapartment. And as he walked slowly across the street and into theBuchanan house, Fate took up the hand of Andrew Sevier and ranged histrumps for a new game. In the moment he parted the curtains and stepped into the library the olddame played a small signal, for there, in the major's wide chair, satCaroline Darrah Brown with her head bent over a large volume spread openupon the table. "Oh, " she said with a quick smile and a rose signal in her cheeks, "the major isn't here! They came for him to go out to the farm to seeabout--about grinding something up to feed to--to--something orsheep--or--, " she paused in distress as if it were of the utmostimportance that she should inform him of the major's absence. "Silo for the cows, " he prompted in a practical voice. It was well apractical remark fitted the occasion for the line from old Ben Jonson, which David had only a few hours ago accused him of plagiarizing, rose tothe surface of his mind. Such deep wells of eyes he had never looked intoin all his life before, and they were as ever, filled to the brim withreverence, even awe of him. It was a heady draught he quaffed before shelooked down and answered his laconic remark. "Yes, " she said, "that was it. And Mrs. Matilda and Phoebe motored outwith him and David went on his horse. I am making calls, only I didn't. Istopped to--" and she glanced down with wild confusion, for the bookspread out before her was the major's old family Bible, and the type wastoo bold to fail to declare its identity to his quick glance. "Don't worry, " he hastened to say, "I don't mind. I read it myselfsometimes, when I'm in a certain mood. " "It was for David--he wanted to read something to Phoebe, " she answeredin ravishing confusion, and pointed to the open page. Thus Andrew Sevier was forced by old Fate to come near her and bend withher over the book. The tip of her exquisite finger ran along the linesthat have figured in the woman question for many an age. "'For her price is far above rubies. The heart of her husband doth safelytrust in her'"--and so on down the page she led him. "And that was what the trouble was about, " she said when they had readthe last word in the last line. She raised her eyes to his with laughterin their depths. "It was a very dreadful battle and Phoebe won. The majorfound this for him to read to her and she said she did not intend to gointo the real estate business for her husband or to rise while it was yetnight to give him his breakfast. Aren't they funny, _funny_?" and shefairly rippled with delight at her recollection of the vanquishing of theintrepid David. "The standards for a wife were a bit strenuous in those days, " heanswered, smiling down on her. "I'm afraid Dave will have trouble findingone on those terms. And yet--" he paused and there was a touch of mockeryin his tone. "I think that a woman could be very, very happy fulfilling every one ofthose conditions if she were woman enough, " answered Caroline DarrahBrown, looking straight into his eyes with her beautiful, disconcerting, dangerous young seriousness. Andrew picked up his manuscript with the mental attitude of catching at astraw. "Oh, " she said quickly, "you were going to read to the major, weren'tyou?" And the entreaty in her eyes was as young as her seriousness; asyoung as that of a very little girl begging for a wonder tale. The heartof a man may be of stone but even flint flies a spark. Andrew Sevier flushed under his pallor and ruffled his pages back to aserenade he had written, with which the star for whom the play was beingmade expected to exploit a deep-timbred voice in a recitativevocalization. And while he read it to her slowly, Fate finessed on thethird round. And so the major found them an hour or more later, he standing in thefailing light turning the pages and she looking up at him, listening, with her cheek upon her interlaced fingers and her elbows resting on theold book. The old gentleman stood at the door a long time before heinterrupted them and after Andrew had gone down to put Caroline into hermotorcar, which had been waiting for hours, he lingered at the windowlooking out into the dusk. "'For love is as strong as death, '" he quoted to himself as he turned tothe table and slowly closed the book and returned it to its place. "'Andmany waters can not quench love, neither can the floods drown it. '""Solomon was very great--and human, " he further observed. Then after absorbing an hour or two of communion with some musty oldpapers and a tattered volume of uncertain age, the major was interruptedby Mrs. Matilda as she came in from her drive. She was a vision in hersoft gray reception gown, and her gray hat, with its white velvet rose, was tipped over her face at an angle that denoted the spirit ofadventure. "I'm so glad to get back, Major, " she said as she stood and regarded himwith affection beaming in her bright eyes. "Sometimes I hurry home to besure you are safe here. I don't see you as much as I do out at Seven Oaksand I'm lonely going places away from you. " "Don't you know it isn't the style any longer for a woman to carry herhusband in her pocket, Matilda, " he answered. "What would Mrs. CherryLawrence think of you?" Mrs. Buchanan laughed as she seated herself by him for the moment. "I've just come from Milly's, " she said. "I left Caroline there. AndHobson was with her; they had been out motoring on the River Road. Doyou suppose--it looks as if perhaps--?" "My dear Matilda, " answered the major, "I never give or take a tip on alove race. The Almighty endows women with inscrutable eyes and the smileof the Sphynx for purposes of self-preservation, I take it, so a manwastes time trying to solve a woman-riddle. However, Hobson Capers isrunning a risk of losing much valuable time is the guess I chance on theissue in question. " "And Peyton Kendrick and that nice Yankee boy and--" "All bunched, all bunched at the second post! There's a dark horserunning and he doesn't know it himself. God help him!" he added under hisbreath as she turned to speak to Tempie. "If you don't want her to marry Hobson whom do you choose?" she saidreturning to the subject. "I wish--I wish--but of course it isimpossible, and I'm glad, as it is, that Andrew is indifferent. " "Yes, " answered the major, "and you'll find that indifference is a hallmark stamped on most modern emotions. " CHAPTER V DAVID'S ROSE AND SOME THORNS "Now, " said David, "if you'll just put away a few of those ancient pipesand puddle your papers a bit in your own cozy corner we can call thesequarters ready to receive the ladies, God bless 'em! Does it look kinderbare to you? We might borrow a few drapes from the madam, or would youtrust to the flowers? I'll send them up for you to fix around tasty. A blasted poet ought to know how to bunch spinach to look well. " As he spoke David Kildare stood in the middle of the living-room in hisbachelor quarters, which were in the Colonial, a tall pillared, widewindowed, white brick apartment-house that stood across the street fromthe home of Major Buchanan, and surveyed the long rooms upon which he andhis man Eph had been expending their energies for more than an hour. Andrew Sevier sank down upon the arm of a chair and lighted a long andvillainous pipe. "Trust to the flowers, " he answered. "I think Phoebedoesn't care for the drapes of this life so much as some women do and asthis is for her birthday let's have the flowers, sturdy ones with stiffstems and good head pieces. " "That's right, Phoebe's nobody's clinging vine, " answered David moodily. "She doesn't want any trellis either--wish something would wilt her! Lookhere, Andrew, on the square, what's the matter that I can't get Phoebe?You're a regular love pilot on paper, point me another course; this oneis no good; I've run into a sand bank. " The dark red forelock on David'sbrow was ruffled and his keen eyes were troubled, while his large sweetmouth was set in a straight firm line. He looked very strong, forcefuland determined as he stopped in front of his friend and squared himselfas if for a blow. Andrew Sevier looked at him thoughtfully for a few seconds straightbetween the eyes, then his mouth widened into an affectionate smile as helaid his hand on the sturdy shoulder and said: "Not a thing on God's green earth the matter with you, Davie; it's themodernism of the situation that you seem unable to handle. May I use yourflower simile? Once they grew in gardens and were drooping and sweet andoverran trellises, to say nothing of clinging to oak trees, but we'vedeveloped the American Beauty, old man! It stands stiff and glossy andholds its head up on its own stem, the pride of the nation! We can getthem, though they come high. Ah, but they are sweet! Phoebe is one of themost gorgeous to be found--it will be a price to pay, but you'll pay it, David, you'll pay. " "God knows I'm paying it all day long every day and have been paying itfor ten years. Never at peace about her for an instant. Protection atlong distance is no joke. I can't sleep at night until she telephones meshe is at home from the office on her duty nights and then I have to beglike a dog for the wire, just the word or two. She _will_ overwork andundereat and--" "David, " interrupted Sevier thoughtfully, "what do you really think isthe matter? Let's get down to facts while we are about it. " "Do you know, Andy, lately it has dawned upon me that Phoebe would liketo dictate a life policy to me; hand me out a good, stiff life job. Ibelieve she would marry me to-morrow if she could see me permanentlyinstalled on the front seat of a grocery wagon--_permanently_. And I'llcome to it yet. " "I believe you are right, " laughed Andrew. "She really glories in herwage earning; it's a phase of them these days. She would actually hateliving on your income. " "Don't I know it? I suppose she would be content if she sewed on buttonsand did the family wash to conserve the delivery wagon income. I wishshe'd marry me for love and then I'd hire her at hundreds per week todust around the house and cook pies for me, gladly, gladly. " "We've developed thorns with our new rose, Dave, " chuckled Andrew as herelighted his pipe. "Sweet hope of heaven, yes, " groaned David. "My gore drips all the timefrom the gashes. I suppose it is a killing grief to her that I haven't astar corporation practise instead of fooling around the criminal courtfighting old Taylor to get a square deal for the darky rag-tag most of mytime. But, Andy, it makes me blaze house-high to see the way he hands thelaw out to 'em. They can cut and fight as long as it is in a whisky diveand no indictment returned; but let one of 'em sidestep an inch in anyother ignorant pitiful way and it's the workhouse and the county road fortheirs. "And the number of ways that the coons can get up to call on me to squarethe deal, is amazing. Just look at the week I've had! All Monday andTuesday I spent on the Darky Country Club affair; the poor nigs justhungering for some place to go off and act white in for a few hours. Nobody would sell them an acre of ground near a car line and the duskysmart set was about to get its light put out. Jeff and Tempie told meabout it. What did little Dave do but run around to persuade old manElton to sell them that little point that juts out into the river twomiles from town and just across from the rock quarry. No neighbors tokick and the interurban runs through the field. It really is a choicespot and I started their subscription with a hundred or two and gotWilliams to draw them some plans to fix up an old house that stands onthe bank for a club-house. They are wide-mouthed with joy; but it slicedtwo days to do it, which I might have spent on the grocery wagon. " "You always did have the making of a philanthropist in you, Dave, " saidAndrew thoughtfully. "You're a near-one at present speaking. " "Philanthropist go hang--the rest of the week I have spent getting theold Confeds together and having everything in shape for the unveiling ofthe statue out at the Temple of Arts. I tell you we are going to have aturn-out. General Clopton is coming all the way to make the dedicationspeech. Caroline is about to bolt and I have to steady her at off times. I've promised to hold her hand through it all. Major is getting up thenotes for General Clopton and he's touching on Peters Brown only in highplaces. It'll be mostly a show-down of old General Darrah and the threegovernors I'm thinking. "The Dames of the Confederacy and the Art League are going to haveentries on the program without number. I have been interviewed andinterviewed. Why, even the august Susie Carrie Snow sent for me andtalked high art and city beautiful to me until I could taste it. "And all that sopped up the rest of the week when I ought to have beendelivering pork steaks and string-beans at people's back doors to pleasePhoebe. Money grubbing doesn't appeal to me and I don't need it, but fromnow on I'm the busy grub--until after the 'no man put asunder'proclamation. " "How you can manage to do one really public-spirited job after another, 'things that count, ' and then elude all the credit for them is more thanI can understand, Dave, " said Andrew as he smiled through a blue ring ofsmoke. "Some day, if you don't look out, you'll be a leading citizen. In the meantime hustle about those flowers. Time flies. " "I'll send them right up, " said David as he donned his coat and hat andtook up his crop. The hours David spent out of the saddle were those ofhis indoors occupations. "I'll be back soon. Just fix the flowers; Ephand the cook will do all the rest. And put the cards on the table anyold way. I want to sit between Phoebe and Caroline Darrah Brown--well, whose party is it? You can sit next on either side. " "Wait a minute, are--" "No, I must hurry and go brace up Milly for a pair of minutes. Shewouldn't promise to come until I insisted on sending a trained nurse tosit with old Mammy Betty and the babies until she got back to 'em. BillyBob is as wild as a kid about coming, he hasn't been anywhere for solong. I talked a week before I could persuade Milly, but she's got herglad rags and is as excited as Billy Bob. I tried to buy that boy twinfor Phoebe's present but Milly said I had better get an old silver andamethyst bracelet. It's on my table in the white box. Bye!" and Kildaredeparted as far as the front door, but returned to stick his head in thedoor and say: "You'd better put Hob by Caroline Darrah on the other side; he's savagewhen he's crossed. And tack in Payt opposite her. I invited Polly theFluff for you--she is a débutante and such a coo-child that she'll justsuit a poet. " He dodged just in time to escape the lighted pipe that was hurled uponhim, and he couldn't have suspected that a hastily-formed plan to placehimself opposite Caroline Darrah had gone up in the smoke that followedthe death of life in Andrew's pipe. Then following the urgent instructions of David, Andrew began to right upthe papers in his den which opened off the living-room. His desk waslittered with manuscript, for the three days past had been golden onesand he had written under a strong impetus. The thought suddenly shotthrough him that he had been writing as he had once read, to eyes whose"depths on depths of luster" had misted and glowed and answered as heturned his pages in the twilight. Can ice in a man's breast burn likefire? Andrew crushed the sheets and thrust them into a drawer. Then came Eph and the cook to lay the cloth in the dining-room, and a manbrought up the flowers. For a time he worked away with a strangeexcitement in his veins. When they had finished and he was alone in the apartment he walked slowlythrough the rooms. Where David happened to keep his household gods hadbeen home to Andrew for many years. His books were in the dark Flemishoak cases and some of the prints on the walls were his. Most of the rugshe had picked up in his travels upon which his commissions led him, andsome interesting skins had been added since his jungle experiences. Itwas all dark and rich and right-toned--the home of a gentleman. And Davidwas like the rooms, right-toned and clean. Andrew found himself wondering if there would be men like David in thenext generation, happy David with his cavalier nature and modern wit. Thesteady stream of wealth that was pouring into the South, down hermountain sides and welling up under her pasture lands, would it bring inits train death to the purity and sanity of her social institutions?Would swollen fortunes bring congestion of standards and grossness ofmorals? Suddenly he smiled for Billy Bob and Milly and a lot of theindustrious young folks seemed to answer him. He had found eleven littlenew cousins on the scene of action when he had returned after fiveyears--clear-eyed young Anglo-Americans, ready to take charge of thefuture. And he, what was his place in the building of his native city? Histrained intelligence, his wide experience, his genius were being given tocutting a canal thousands of miles away while the streets of his own homewere being cut up and undermined by half-trained bunglers. The beautifulforest suburbs were being planned and plotted by money-mad schemers whoneither pre-visioned, nor cared to, the city of the future which was tobe a great gateway of the nation to its Panama world-artery. He knew howto value the force of a man of his kind, with his reputation andinfluence, and he would gage just what he would be able to do for thecity with the municipal backing he could command if he set his shoulderto the wheel. A talk he had had with the major a day or two ago came back to him. Theold fellow's eyes had glowed as he told him the plan they had beenobliged to abandon in the early seventies for a boulevard from thecapitol to the river because of the lack of city construction funds. Andrew's own father had formulated the plan and gone before the cityfathers with it, and for a time there had been hope of itsaccomplishment. And the major had declared emphatically that a time wascoming when the city would want and ask for it again. That other AndrewSevier of the major's youth had conceived the scheme; the major hadrepeated the fact slowly. Did he mean it as a call to him? Andrew's eyes glowed. He could see it all, with its difficulties and itspossibilities. He rested his clenched hand on the table and the artist inhim had the run of his pulses. He could see it all and he knew in allhumbleness that he could construct the town as no other man of hisgeneration would be able to do; the beautiful hill-rimmed city! And just as potent he felt the call of the half-awakened spirit of artand letters that had lain among them poverty-bound for fortyreconstructive years. For what had he been so richly dowered? To singhis songs from the camp of a wanderer and write his plays with a foreignflavor, when he might voice his own people in the world of letters, hisown with their background of traditions and tragedy and their foregroundof rough-hewn possibilities? Was not the meed of his fame, small orlarge, theirs? Suddenly the tension snapped and sadness chilled through his veins. Herethere would always be that memory which brought its influences ofbitterness and depression to kill the creative in him. The old mad desireto be gone and away from it beat up into his blood, then stilled on theinstant. What was it that caught his breath in his breast at the thoughtof exile? Could he go now, _could_-- Just at this moment he was interrupted by Mrs. Matilda who came hurryinginto the room with ribbons and veil aflutter. She evidently had only themoment to stay and she took in his decorative schemes with the utmostdelight. "Andrew, " she said with enthusiasm in every tone, "it is all lovely, lovely. You boys are wonders! These bachelor establishments arethreatening to make women wonder what they were born for. And what do youthink? The major is coming! The first place he has gone this winter--andhe wants to sit between Phoebe and Caroline Darrah. I just ran over totell you. Good-by! We must both dress. " And Andrew smiled as he rearranged the place-cards. And it happened that in more ways than one David Kildare found himselfthe perturbed host. He rushed home and dressed with lightning-likerapidity and whirled away in the limousine for Milly and Billy Bob. He went for them early, for he had bargained to come for Phoebe as lateas possible so as to give her time to reckon with her six-thirtyfreckled-faced devil at the office. But at the Overtons he foundconfusion confounded. "I'm so sorry, David, " Milly almost sobbed, "but Mammy Betty's daughterhas run away and got married and she has gone to see about it, and thetrained nurse can't come. There has been an awful wreck up the road andall the doctors in town have gone and taken all the nurses with them. Shedidn't consider the babies serious, so she just had some one telephone atthe last minute that she had gone. I can't go; but please make Billy gowith you! There is no use--" and she turned to Billy Bob who stood by inpathetically gorgeous array, but firm in his intention not to desert thehome craft. "We just can't make it, Dave, old man, " he said manfully, as he caughthis tearful wife's outstretched hand in his. "Go on before we both cry!" "Go on, nothing--with Milly looking like a lovely pink apple-blossom!You've got to come. I wouldn't dare face Phoebe without you. It's thewhole thing to her to have you there. It's been so long since you'vegladded with the crowd once and it's her birthday and--" David's voicetrailed off into a perfect wail. "But what can we do?" faltered Milly, dissolved at the mention of the newfrock. "We certainly can't leave them and we can't take them and--" "Glory, that's the idea, let's _take_ the whole bunch!" exclaimed Davidwith radiant countenance. "I ought to have invited them in the firstplace. Come on and let's begin to bundle!" and he made a dive in thedirection of the door of the nursery. "Oh, no, indeed we can't!" gasped Milly while Billy Bob stood stricken, unable to utter a word. "I'll show you whether we will or not, " answered David. "Catch me losinga chance like this to ring one on Phoebe for several reasons. Hurry up!"and as he spoke he had lifted little Mistake from his cot and wasdextrously winding him in his blanket. The youngster opened his big dewyeyes and chuckled at the sight of his side partner, David Kildare. "That's all right, he's all for his Uncle Davie. Here, you take him BillyBob and I'll help Milly roll up the twins. She can bring down Crimiewhile I bring them, " and as he spoke he began a rapid swathing of the twolimp little bodies from the white crib. "But, David, " gasped Milly, "it is _impossible_! They are notdressed--they will take cold--" "The limousine is as hot as smoke--can't hurt 'em--plenty of blankets, "with which he thrust the nodding young Crimie into her arms and liftedcarefully the large bundle which contained both twins in his own. "Goon!" he commanded the paralyzed pair. "I will pull the door to with myfree foot. " And he actually forced the helpless parents of the four toembark with him on this most unusual of adventures. When they were all seated in the car Milly looked at Billy Bob and burstinto a gale of hysterical laughter. But Billy Bob's spunk was up by thistime and he was all on the side of the resourceful David. "Why not?" he asked brazenly. "Nine-tenths of the people in the worldtake the kids with them on all the frolics they get, why not we? _They_know it's all right, _they_ haven't objected. " And indeed there had notbeen a single chirp from any of the swathings. Big Brother was the onlyone awake and he was, as usual, entranced at the very sight of his UncleDavid, who held the twins with practised skill on his knees. "Now, " he said jubilantly, "don't anybody warn Phoebe and I'm going toput them on the big divan with her presents. You'll see something crash, I'm thinking. " And it was worth it all when Phoebe did see her unexpected guests. BigBrother, divested of his blanket and clad in a pink Teddy Bear garment, sat bolt upright in the center of the divan, and Crimie lay snuggledagainst him with his thumb in his mouth and entranced eyes on thebrilliant chandelier. The twins were nestled contentedly down in thecorner together like two little kittens in a basket. Before them kneltPolly with one finger clasped by the one whose golden fuzz declared herto be Little Sister, while Caroline Darrah leaned over Big Brother whowas fingering a string of sapphires that fell from her neck, with obviousdelight. The rest of the party stood in an admiring and uproariouscircle. "Why, " exclaimed Phoebe in blank astonishment, "why David Kildare!" "You said you wanted your most intimate friends to-night, Phoebe, andhere they are, " he answered with pride in every tone of his voice. "Oh, dearie, " said Milly as she clasped Phoebe's hand, "we couldn't comewithout them--everything happened wrong. I know it's awful and I ought totake them right back now and--" "David Kildare, " said Phoebe as she divined in an instant the wholesituation, "I love--I love you for doing it, " and she sank on her kneesby Caroline. Mistake let go the chain and bobbed forward to bestow amoist kiss on this, his friend of long standing; and as he chuckled andsnuggled his little nose under her white chin Phoebe's echo was a sigh ofsuch absolute rapture that the whole circle shouted with glee. And late as it was dinner was announced three times before the host orthe guests could be persuaded to think of food. And not until David's bedwas made ready for the little guests did they begin to make their wayinto the dining-room. It was Andrew who finally insisted on carrying thebabes away and tucking them in--only Caroline went with him with LittleSister in her arms and laid her gently on the pillow. She refused to lifther eyes to him for so much as a half-second until he drew her chair fromthe table for her; but then her shy glance was deep with innocenttenderness. "Now, " said the major as they settled laughingly into their places, "everybody's glass high to the silent guests!" And they drank his toastwith enthusiasm. "And, " added David Kildare as he set down his glass, "they needn't be'silent guests' unless it suits them. When they want to rough-house theyknow Uncle David's is the place to come to do it in. " "But let's hope they won't want to, David, " laughed Milly, radiant withexcitement. "I tell you what let's do, " said the enlivened Hobson from the covetedseat next Caroline Darrah Brown, "let's all give them hard sleepingsuggestions, all at the same time.... Maybe they won't wake up for aweek. " "Andrew, " said Mrs. Buchanan as she looked with delight in his direction, "these are delicious things you and David have to eat. I am so glad youare well again and can enjoy them. " "Better go slow, Andy, " called David from down the table. "Sure you don'tneed a raw egg? Phoebe has a couple up her sleeve here she can lend you. The major has persuaded her to take a bit of duck and some asparagus anda brandied peach and--" "David Kildare, " said Phoebe in a coolly dangerous voice, "I will geteven with you for that if it takes me a week. This is the first thing Ihave had to eat since meal before last and I lost two and a half poundslast week. So I'll see that you--" "Please, please, Phoebe, I'll be good! Just let me off this time. I'mgiddy from looking at you!" And before a delighted audience David Kildareabased himself. "Anyway, I've got news to relate, " he hastened to offer by way ofpropitiation. "What do you think has happened to Andrew? I didn't promisenot to tell, " he drawled, prolonging the agony to its limit. "Hurry, David, do!" exclaimed Phoebe with suspended fork. Caroline leanedforward eagerly, while Andrew began a laughing protest. "It's only that Hetherton is going to put the great Mainwright on inAndy's new play in the fall--letter came to-day. Now, doesn't he shovehis pen to some form--some?" he demanded as he beamed upon his friendwith the greatest pride. "Oh, " said Caroline Darrah, "Mainwright is great enough to doit--almost!" A pulse of joy shot through Andrew as her excited eyes gleamed into his. Of them all she and the major only had read his play and couldcongratulate him really. He had turned to her instantly when David hadmade his announcement, and she had answered him as instantly with herdelight. "And Cousin Andy, " asked Polly who sat next to him, "will I have to cryat the third act? Please don't make me, it's so unbecoming. Why can'tpeople do all the wonderful things they do in plays without being somussy?" "Child, " jeered David Kildare as they all laughed, "don't you know aheart-throb when you're up against it--er--beg pardon--I mean to say thatplays are sold at so much a sob. Seems to me you get wise very slowly. "Polly pouted and young Boston who sat next her went red up to his hair. "Better let me look over the contracts for you, Andrew, " said TomCantrell with friendly interest in his shrewd eyes. If the material wasall Tom had to offer his friends he did that with generosity andsincerity. So until the roses fell into softly wilting heaps and the champagne brokein the glasses they sat and talked and laughed. Pitched battles raged upand down the table and there were perfect whirlpools of argument andprotestation. Phoebe was her most brilliant self and her laughter rangout rich and joyous at the slightest provocation. The major delighted ina give and take encounter with her and their wit drew sparks from everydirection. "No, Major, " she said as the girls rose with Mrs. Buchanan after the lasttoast had been drunk, "toast my wit, toast my courage, toast my loyalty, but my beauty--ah, aren't women learning not to use it as an asset?" As she spoke she stretched out one white hand and bare rounded arm to himin entreaty. Phoebe was more lovely than she knew as she flung herchallenge into the camp of her friends and they all felt the call in herdauntless dawn-gray eyes. Her unconsciousness amounted to a positiveaudacity. "Phoebe, " answered the major as he rose and stood beside her chair, "allthose things stir at times our cosmic consciousness, but beauty is thebouquet to the woman-wine--and _you_ can't help it!" "How do you old fellows down at the bivouac really feel about thisconduit business, Major, " said Tom Cantrell as he moved his chair closearound by the major's after the last swish and rustle had left the menalone in the dining-room for a few moments. "Just a question startsfather fire-eating, so I thought I would ask you to put me next. It's upin the city council. " "Tom, " answered the major as he blew a ring of smoke between himself andthe shrewd eyes, "what on earth have a lot of broken-down old Confederatesoldiers got to do with the management of the affairs of the city? Youyoung men are to attend to that--give us a seat in the sun and ourpipes--of peace. " "Oh, hang, Major! Look at the way you old fellows swung that gas contractin the council. You 'sit in the sun' all right but they all know that thebivouac pulls the plurality vote in this city when it chooses--and theyjump when you speak. What are you going to do about this conduit?" "Is it pressing? Not much being said about it. " "That's it--they want to make it a sneak in. Mayor Potts is pushinghard and we know he's just the judge's catspaw. Judge Taylor owns thecity council since that last election and I believe he has bought theboard of public works outright. The conduit is just a whisky ring schemeto hand out jobs before the judge's election. They have got to keep thecriminal court fixed, Major, for this town is running wide open day andnight--with prohibition voted six months ago. They've got to keep Tayloron the bench. What do you say?" "Well, " answered the major, beetling his brows over his keen eyes, "Isuppose there is no doubt that Taylor is machine-made. He's the realblind tiger, and Potts is his striped kitten. I understand he 'lost'four-fifths of the 'open' indictments that the grand jury 'found' ontheir last sitting. The whisky men are going to sell as long as thecriminal court protects them, of course. Let's let them cut that conduitdeeper into the public mind before they begin on the streets. " "I'm looking for a nasty show-down for this town before long, Major, ifthere are men enough in it to call the machine. " "Tom, " answered the major as he blew a last ring from his cigar, "a townis in a rotten fix when the criminal court is a mockery. Let's gointerrupt the women's dimity talk. " And it was quite an hour later that Milly decided in an alarmed hurrythat she and the babies must take their immediate departure. Davidmaneuvered manfully to send them home in his car and to have Phoebe waitand let him take her home later--alone. But Phoebe insisted upon goingwith Milly and Billy Bob and the youngsters, and the reflection that thedistance from the unfashionable quarter inhabited by the little family, back to Phoebe's down-town apartment was very short, depressed him to thepoint of defiance--almost. However, he packed them all in and then as skilfully unpacked them at thedoor of their little home. He carried up the twins and even remained amoment to help in their unswathing before he descended to the waiting carand Phoebe. As he gave the word and swung in beside her, David Kildareheaved a deep and rapturous sigh. It was so much to the good to have herto himself for the short whirl through the desolated winter streets. Itwas a situation to be made the most of for it came very seldom. He turned to speak to her in the half light and found her curled up inthe corner with her soft cheek resting against the cushions. Her attitudewas one of utter weariness, but she smiled without opening her eyes asshe nestled closer against the rough leather. "Tired, peach-bud?" he asked softly. One of the gifts of the high gods toDavid Kildare was a voice with a timbre suitable to the utmosttenderness, when the occasion required. "Yes, " answered Phoebe drowsily, "but so happy! It was all lovely, David. " Her pink-palmed hand lay relaxed on her knee. David lifted itcautiously in both his strong warm ones and bent over it, his heartahammer with trepidation. For as a general thing neither the environmentnor his mood had much influence in the softening way on Phoebe's coolaloofness, but this once some sympathetic chord must have vibrated in herheart for she clasped her fingers around his and received the caress ontheir pink tips with opening eyes that smiled with a hint of tenderness. "David, " she said with a low laugh, "I'm too tired to be stern with youtonight, but I'll hold you responsible to-morrow--for everything. Here weare; do see if that red-headed devil is sitting on the door-step and tellhim that there is--no--more copy--if I _am_ a half-column short. And, David, " she drew their clasped hands nearer and laid her free one overboth his as the car drew up to the curb, "you--are--a--dear! Here's mykey in my muff. To-morrow at five? I don't know--you will have to phoneme. Good night, and thank you--dear. Yes--good night again!" CHAPTER VI THE BRIDGE OF DREAMS "And then, Major, hell broke loose! Dave stood up and--" Tom Cantrell'seyes snapped and he slashed with his crop at the bright andirons thatheld the flamed logs. "No, Major, it wasn't hell that broke up, it was something inside me. Ifelt it smash. For a moment I didn't grasp what Taylor was saying. Itsounded so like the ravings of an insane phonograph that I was for beingamused, but when I found that he was actually advising the mayor torefuse our committee the use of the hay market for a bivouac during theConfederate reunion, I just got up and took his speech and fed it to himraw. I saw red with a touch of purple and I didn't know I was on my feetand--" "Major, " interrupted Andrew Sevier, his eyes bright as those of Kildareand his quiet voice under perfect control, "Judge Taylor's exact wordswere that it seemed inadvisable to turn over property belonging to thecity for the use of parties that could in no way be held responsible. Heelucidated his excuse by saying that the Confederate soldiers were so oldnow that they were better off at home than parading the streets andinciting rebellious feelings in the children, throwing the city intoconfusion by their disorderly conduct and--" "That's all he said, Major, that's all. I was on my feet then and allthat needs to be said and done to him was said and done right there. Isaid it and Phoebe and Mrs. Peyton Kendrick did it as they walked rightpast him and out of the chamber of commerce hall of committees while hewas trying to answer me. That broke up the meeting and he can't be foundthis morning. Cap has had Tom looking for him. I think when we find himwe will have a few more words of remonstrance with him!" said Davequietly. And he stood straight and tall before the major, and as he threwback his head he was most commanding. There was an expression of power inthe face of David Kildare that the major had never seen there before. He balanced his glasses in his hands a moment and looked keenly at thefour young men lined up before him. They made a very forcefultypification of the new order of things and were rather magnificentin their defense of the old. The major's voice tightened in his throatbefore he could say what they were waiting to hear. "Boys, " he said, and his old face lit with one of its rare smiles, "there were live sparks in these gray ashes--or we could not have bredyou. I'm thinking you, yourselves, justify the existence of us oldJohnnies and give us a clear title to live a little while longer, reunite once a year, sing the old songs, speechify, parade, bivouac a fewmore times together--and be as disorderly as we damn please, in this orany other city's hay market. Tom, telephone Cap to go straight to thebivouac headquarters and have them get ready to get out a special editionof the _Gray Picket_. If reports of this matter are sent out over theSouth without immediate and drastic refutations there will be aconflagration of thousands of old fire-eaters. They will never livethrough the strain. Andrew, take David up to your rooms, send for astenographer and get together as much of that David Kildare speech asyou can. Hobson, get hold of the stenographer of the city council and gethis report of both Taylor's and Potts' speeches. Choke it out of him forI suspect they have both attempted to have them destroyed. " "Don't you see, Major, don't you see, he tried to make a play to themasses of protecting the city's property and the city's law and order, but he jumped into a hornet's nest? We managed to keep it all out of themorning paper but something is sure to creep in. Hadn't we better have aconference with the editors?" Tom was a solid quantity to be reckonedwith in a stress that called for keenness of judgment rather thanemotion. "Ask them for a conference in the editorial rooms of the _Gray Picket_ attwo-thirty, Tom, " answered the major. "In the meantime I'll draft aneditorial for the special edition. We must come out with it in themorning at all odds. " In a few moments the echo of their steps over the polished floors and thering of their voices had died away and the major was once more alone inhis quiet library. He laid aside his books and drew his chair up to thetable and began to make preparations for his editorial utterances. Hisrampant grizzled forelock stood straight up and his jaws were squared andgrim. He paused and was in the act of calling Jeff to summon Phoebe overthe wire when the curtains parted and she stood on the threshold. Themajor never failed to experience a glow of pride when Phoebe appearedbefore him suddenly. She was a very clear-eyed, alert, poisedindividuality, with the freshness of the early morning breezes about her. "My dear, " he said without any kind of preliminary greeting, "what do youmake of the encounter between David Kildare and Julge Taylor? The boyshave been here, but I want your account of it before I begin to takeaction in the matter. " "It was the most dastardly thing I ever heard, Major, " said Phoebequietly with a deep note in her voice. "For one moment I sat stunned. Thelong line of veterans as I saw them last year at the reunion, old andgray, limping some of them, but glory in their bright faces, some of themsinging and laughing, came back to me. I thought my heart would burst atthe insult to them and to--us, their children. But when David rose fromhis chair beside me I drew a long breath. I wish you could have heard himand seen him. He was stately and courteous--and he said it _all_. Hevoiced the love and the reverence that is in all our hearts for them. It was a very dignified forceful speech--and _David_ made it!" Phoebestood close against the table and for a moment veiled her tear-starredeyes from the major's keen glance. "Phoebe, " he said after a moment's silence, "I sometimes think the worldlacks a standard by which to measure some of her vaster products. Perhapsyou and I have just explored the heart of David Kildare so far. But aheart as fine as his isn't going to pump fool blood into any man'sbrain--eh?" "Sometimes and about some things, you do me a great injustice, Major, "answered Phoebe slowly, with a serious look into the keen eyes bent uponhers. "Of all the 'glad crowd', as David calls us, I am the only womanwho comes directly in contact with the struggling, working, hand-to-handfight of life, and I can't help letting it affect me in my judgmentof--of us. I can't forget it when--when I amuse myself or let David amuseme. I seem to belong with them and not in the life he would make for me;yet you know I care--but if you are going to get out that extra editionyou must get to work. I will sit here and get up my one o'clock notes forthe imp, and if you need me, tell me so. " The major bestowed a slow quizzical smile upon her and took up his pen. For an hour they both wrote rapidly with now a quick question from themajor and a concise answer from Phoebe, or a short debate over thewording of one of his sentences or paragraphs. The editorial minds of thegraybeard and the girl were of much the same quality and they had writtentogether for many years. The major had gone far in the molding ofPhoebe's keen wit. "Why, here you are, Phoebe, " exclaimed Mrs. Buchanan as she hurried intothe room just as Phoebe was finishing some of her last paragraphs, "Caroline and I have been telephoning everywhere for you. Do come andmotor out to the Country Club with us for lunch. David and Andrew leftsome partridges there yesterday as they came from hunting on Old Harpeth, to be grilled for us to-day. You are going out there to play bridge withMrs. Shelby's guest from Charleston at three, so please come with usnow!" She was all eagerness and she rested one plump, persuasive little hand onPhoebe's arm. To Mrs. Matilda, any time that Phoebe could be persuaded tofrolic was one of undimmed joy. "Now, Mrs. Matilda, " said the major, as he smiled at her with theexpression of delight that her presence always called forth even in timesof extreme strenuosity, "do leave Phoebe with me--I'm really a very lornold man. " "Why, are you really lonely dear? Then Caroline and I won't think ofgoing. We'll stay right here to lunch with you. I will go tell her andyou put up your books and papers and we will bring our sewing and chatwith you and Phoebe. It will be lovely. " "Matilda, " answered the major hastily with real alarm in his eyes, "Iinsist that you unroll my strings to your apron as far as the CountryClub this once. I capitulate--no man in the world ever had more attentionthan I have. Why, Phoebe knows that--" "Indeed, indeed, he really doesn't want us, Mrs. Matilda. Let's leave himto his Immortals. I will be ready in a half-hour if I can write fasthere. Tell Caroline Darrah to hunt me up a fresh veil and phone MammyKitty not to expect me home until--until midnight. Now while you dress Iwill write. " "Very well, " answered Mrs. Buchanan, "if you are sure you don't need us, Major, " and with a caress on his rampant lock she hurried away. "You took an awful risk then, Major, " said Phoebe with a twinkle in hereyes. "I know it, " answered the major. "I've been taking them for nearly fortyyears. It's added much to this affair between Mrs. Buchanan and me. Smallexcitements are all that are necessary to fan the true connubial flame. Ididn't tell her about all this because I really hadn't the time. Tell heron the way out, for I expect there will be a rattle of musketry as soonas the dimity brigade hears the circumstances. " Then for a half-hour Phoebe and the major wrote rapidly until shegathered her sheets together and left them under his paper-weight to bedelivered to the devil from the office. She departed quietly, taking Mrs. Matilda and Caroline with her. And for still another hour the major continued to push his pen rapidlyacross the paper, then he settled down to the business of reading andannotating his work. For years Major Buchanan had been the editor of the _Gray Picket_, whichwent its way weekly into almost every home in the South. It was a quaint, bright little folio full of articles of interest to the old Johnnie Rebsscattered south of Mason and Dixon. As a general thing it radiated goodcheer and a most patriotic spirit, but at times something would occur tostir the gray ashes from which would fly a crash of sparks. Then againthe spirit of peace unutterable would reign in its columns. It waspublished for the most part to keep up the desire for the yearlyConfederate reunions--those bivouacs of chosen spirits, the like of whichcould never have been before and can never be after. The major's pen wasa trenchant one but reconstructed--in the main. But the scene at the Country Club in the early afternoon was, accordingto the major's prediction, far from peaceful in tone; it was confusionconfounded. Mrs. Peyton Kendrick was there and the card-tables weredeserted as the players, matrons and maids, gathered around her anddiscussed excitedly the result of her "ways and means for the reunion"mission to the city council, the judge's insult and David Kildare'sreply. They were every mother's daughter of them Dames of the Confederacyand their very lovely gowns were none the less their fighting clothes. "And then, " said Mrs. Payt, her cheeks pink with indignation, and theessence of belligerency in her excited eyes, "for a moment I satpetrified, _petrified_ with cold rage, until David Kildare's speechbegan--there had never been a greater one delivered in the United Statesof America! He said--he said--oh, I don't know what he did say, but itwas--" "I just feel--" gasped Polly Farrell with a sob, "that I ought to getdown on my knees to him. He's a hero--he's a--" "Of course for a second I was surprised. I had never heard David Kildarespeak about a--a serious matter before, but I could have expected it, for his father was a most brilliant lawyer, and his mother's father wasour senator for twenty years and his uncle our ambassador to the courtof--" and Mrs. Peyton's voice trailed off in the clamor. "Well, I've always known that Cousin Dave was a great man. He oughtto be the president or governor--or _something_. I would vote for himto-morrow--or that is, I would make some man--I don't know just who--doit!" And Polly's treble voice again took up the theme of David's praises. "And think of the old soldiers, " said Mrs. Buchanan with a catch in herbreath. "It will hurt them so when they read it. They will think peopleare tired of them and that we don't want them to come here in the springfor the reunion. They are old and feeble and they have had so much tobear. It was cruel, _cruel_. " "And to think of not wanting the children to see them and know them andlove them--and understand!" Milly's soft voice both broke and blazed. "I'm going to cry--I'm doing it, " sobbed Polly with her head on Phoebe'sshoulder. "I wasn't but twelve when they met here last time and Ifollowed all the parades and cried for three solid days. It wasdelicious. I'm not mad at any Yankee--I'm in love with a man from Bostonand I'm--oh, please, don't anybody tell I said that! I may not be, I justthink so because he is so good-looking and--" "We must all go out to the Soldier's Home to-morrow, a large committee, and take every good thing we can think up and make. We must pay them somuch attention that they will let us make a joke of it, " said Mrs. Matilda thinking immediately of the old fellows who "sat in thesun"--waiting. "Yes, " answered Mrs. Peyton, "and we must go oftener. We want some morecommittees. It won't be many years--two were buried last week from theHome. " There was a moment's silence and the sun streamed in across thedeserted tables. "Oh, " murmured Caroline Darrah Brown with her eyes in a blaze, "I can'tstand it, Phoebe. I never felt so before--I who have no right. " "Dear, " said Phoebe with a quiet though intensely sad smile, "this isjust an afterglow of what they must have felt in those awful times. Let'sget them started at the game. " For just a moment longer Phoebe watched them in their heated discussion, then chose her time and her strong quiet voice commanded immediateattention. "Girls, " she said, and as she spoke she held out her hand to Mrs. PeytonKendrick with an audacious little smile. Any woman from two to sixtylikes to be called girl--audaciously as Phoebe did it. "Let's leave itall to the men. I think we can trust them to compel the judge to dine offhis yesterday's remarks in tomorrow's papers. And then if we don't likethe way they have settled with him we can have a gorgeous time tellingthem how much better they might have done it. Let's all play--everybodyfor the game!" "And Phoebe!" called Mrs. Payt as she sat down at the table farthest inthe corner. She spoke in a clear high-pitched voice that carried wellover the rustle of settling gowns and shuffling cards: "We all intendafter this to _see_ that David Kildare gets what he wants--youunderstand?" A laugh rippled from every table but Phoebe was equal to theoccasion. "Why not, Mrs. Payt, " she answered with the utmost cordiality. "And let'sbe sure and find something he really wants to present to him as atestimony of our esteem. " "Oh, Phoebe, " trilled Polly, her emotions getting the better of her asshe stood with score-card in hand waiting for the game to begin, "_I_can't keep from loving him myself and _you_ treat him so mean!" But a gale of merriment interrupted her outburst and a flutter of cardson the felts marked the first rounds of the hands. In a few minutes theywere as absorbed as if nothing had happened to ruffle the depths; but inthe pool of every woman's nature the deepest spot shelters the lostcauses of life, and from it wells a tidal wave if stirred. After a little while Caroline Darrah rose from a dummy and spoke in a lowpleading tone to Polly, who had been watching her game, standing ready toscore. Polly demurred, then consented and sat down while Caroline Darrahtook her departure, quietly but fleetly, down the side steps. She was muffled in her long furs and she swung her sable toque withits one drooping plume in her hand as she walked rapidly across thetennis-courts, cut through the beeches and came out on the bank of thebrawling little Silver Fork Creek, that wound itself from over the ridgedown through the club lands to the river. She stood by the sycamore for amoment listening delightedly to its chatter over the rocks, then climbedout on the huge old rock that jutted out from the bank and was entwinedby the bleached roots of the tall tree. The strong winter sun had warmedthe flat slab on the south side and, sinking down with a sigh of delight, she embraced her knees and bent over to gaze into the sparkling littlewaterfall that gushed across the foot of the boulder. Then for a mystic half-hour she sat and let her eyes roam the blueHarpeth hills in the distance, that were naked and stark save for thelace traceries of their winter-robbed trees. As the sun sank a soft rosepurple shot through the blue and the mists of the valley rose higherabout the bared breasts of the old ridge. And because of the stillness and beauty of the place and hour, CarolineDarrah began, as women will if the opportunity only so slightly invitesthem, to dream--until a crackle in a thicket opposite her perchdistracted her attention and sent her head up with a little start. In asecond she found herself looking across the chatty little stream straightinto the eyes of Andrew Sevier, in which she found an expression ofhaving come upon a treasure with distracting suddenness. "Oh, " she said to break the silence which seemed to be settling itselfbetween them permanently, "I think I must have been dreaming and youcrashed right in. I--I--" "Are you sure you are not the dream itself--just come true?" demanded thepoet in a matter-of-fact tone, as if he were asking the time of day orthe trail home. "I don't think I am, in fact I'm sure, " she answered with a break in hercurled lips. "The dream is a bridge, a beautiful bridge, and I've beenseeing it grow for minutes and minutes. One end of it rests down thereby that broken log--see where the little knoll swells up from thefield?--and it stretches in a beautiful strong arch until it seems to cutacross that broken-backed old hill in the distance. And then it fallsacross--but I don't know where to put the other end of it--the groundsinks so--it might wobble. I don't want my bridge to wobble. " Her tone was expressive of a real distress as she looked at him inappealing confusion. And in his eyes she found the dawn of an amusedwonder, almost consternation. Slowly over his face there spread a deepflush and his lips were indrawn with a quick breath. "Wait a minute, I'll show you, " he said in almost an undertone. He swunghimself across the creek on a couple of stones, climbed up the boulderand seated himself at her side. Then he drew a sketch-book from hispocket and spread it open on the slab before them. There it was--the dream bridge! It rose in a fine strong curve from thelittle knoll, spanned across the distant ridge and fell to the oppositebank on to a broad support that braced itself against a rock ledge. Itwas as fine a perspective sketch as ever came from the pencil of anenthusiastic young Beaux Arts. "Yes, " she said with a delighted sigh that was like the slide of thewater over smooth pebbles, "yes, that is what I want it to be, only Icouldn't seem to see how it would rest right away. It is just as Idreamed it and, "--then she looked at him with startled jeweled eyes. "Where did I see it--where did you--what does it mean?" she demanded, andthe flush that rose up to the waves of her hair was the reflection of theone that had stained his face before he came across the stream. "I thinkI'm frightened, " she added with a little nervous laugh. "Please don't be--because I am, too, " he answered. And instinctively, like two children, they drew close together. They both gazed at thespecter sketch spread before them and drew still nearer to each other. "I have been planning it for days, " he said in almost a whisper. Hersmall pink ear was very near his lips and his breath agitated two littlegold tendrils that blew across it. "I want to build it before I go away, it is needed here for the hunting. I came out and made the sketch fromright here an hour ago. I came back--I must have come back to haveit--verified. " He laughed softly, and for just a second his fingersrested against hers on the edge of the sketch. "I'm still frightened, " she said, but a tippy little smile coaxed at thecorners of her mouth. She turned her face away from his eyes that hadgrown--disturbing. "I'm not, " he announced boldly. "Beautiful wild things are flying looseall over the world and why shouldn't we capture one for ourselves. Do youmind--please don't!" "I don't think I do, " she answered, and her lashes swept her cheeksas she lifted the sketch-book to her knees. "Only suppose I was todream--some of your--other work--some day? I don't want to build yourbridges--but I might want to--write some of your poems. Hadn't you betterdo something to stop me right now?" The smile had come to stay andpeeped roguishly out at him from beneath her lashes. "No, " he answered calmly, "if you want my dreams--they are yours. " "Oh, " she said as she rose to her feet and looked down at him wistfully, "your beautiful, beautiful dreams! Ever since that afternoon I have goneover and over the lines you read me. The one about the 'brotherhood ofour heart's desires' keeps me from being lonely. I think--I think I wentto sleep saying it to myself last night and--" It couldn't go on any longer--as Andrew rose to his feet he gatheredtogether any stray wreckage of wits that was within his reach andmanaged, by not looking directly at her, to say in a rational, elderly, friendly tone, slightly tinged with the scientific: "My dear child, and that's why you built my bridge for me to-day. Youput yourself into mental accord with me by the use of my jingle lastnight and fell asleep having hypnotized yourself with it. Things wilderthan fancies are facts these days, written in large volumes by extremelyerudite old gentlemen and we believe them because we must. This is asimple case, with a well-known scientific name and--" "But, " interrupted Caroline Darrah, and as she stood away from himagainst the dim hills, her slender figure seemed poised as if for flight, and a hurt young seriousness was in her lifted purple eyes: "I don't wantit to be a 'simple case' with any scientific--" and just here a merrycall interrupted her from up-stream. Phoebe and Polly had come to summon her back to the club; tea was on thebrew. With the intensest hospitality they invited Andrew to come, too. But he declined with what grace he could and made his way through thetangle down-stream as they walked back under the beeches. Thus a very bitter thing had come to Andrew Sevier--and sweet as thepulse of heaven. In his hand he had seen a sensitive flower unfold to itsvery heart of flame. "Never let her know, " he prayed, "never let her know. " CHAPTER VII STRANGE WILD THINGS "Phoebe, " said David Kildare as he seated himself on the corner of thetable just across from where Phoebe sat in Major Buchanan's chair writingup her one o'clock notes, "what is there about me that makes people thinkthey must make me judge of the criminal court of this county? Do I lookjob-hungry so as to notice it?" "No, " answered Phoebe as she folded her last sheet and laid down herpencil, "that is one thing no one can accuse you of, David. But your workdown there has brought its results. They need you and are calling to yourather decisively I think. Any more delegations to-day?" "Several. Susie Carrie Snow came with more Civic Improvements, rathershort as to skirts and skimpy as to hats. They have fully decided that Iam going to feed Mayor Potts out of my hand as Taylor does, and they wantmy influence to put up two more drinking fountains and three brass platesto mark the homes of the founders of the city, in return for theirprecious support. I promised; and they fell on my neck. That is, if _you_don't mind?" David edged a tentative inch or two nearer Phoebe who hadrested her elbows on the table and her head on her hands as she looked upat him. "I don't, " she answered with a cruel smile. Then she asked, with anunconcerned glance over the top of his head, "Did you hear from theUnited Charities?" "Well, yes, some, " returned David with an open countenance, no suspicionof a trap in even the flicker of an eyelash. "They sent Mrs. Cherry. Blooming more every day isn't she, don't you think? She didn't fall on myneck worth a cent though I had braced myself for the shock. She managedto convey the fact that the whole organization is for me just the same. It's some pumpkins to be a candidate. I'm for all there is in it--if atall. " "You aren't hesitating, David?" asked Phoebe as she rose and stoodstraight and tall beside him, her eyes on a level with his as he sat onthe table. "Ah, David, you can if you will--will you? I know whatit means to you, " and Phoebe laid one hand on his shoulder as she lookedhim straight in the eyes, "for it will be work, _work_ and fight like madto put out the fire. You will have to fight honest--and they won't. But, David"--a little catch in her voice betrayed her as she entreated. "Yes, dear, " answered David as he laid his hand over the one on hisshoulder and pressed it closer, "I sent in the announcement of mycandidacy to the afternoon papers just as I came around here to seethe major--and you. The fight is on and it is going to be harder than yourealize, for there is so little time. Are you for me, girl?" "If _I_ fall on your neck it will make seven this morning. Aren't yousatisfied?" And Phoebe drew her hand away from his, allowing, however, aregretful squeeze as he let it go. "No, six if you would do it, " answered David disconsolately, "I told youthat Mrs. Cherry failed me. " "Yes, " answered Phoebe as she lowered her eyes, "I know you told me. "David Kildare was keen of wit but it takes a most extraordinary wisdom tofathom such a woman as Phoebe chose to be--out of business hours. "Isn't it time for you to go to dress for the parade?" she asked quicklywith apparent anxiety. "No, " answered David as he filled his tooled leather case from themajor's jar of choice Seven Oaks heart-leaf--he had seen Phoebe's whitefingers roll it to the proper fineness just the night before, "I'mall ready! Did you think I was going to wear a lace collar and a sash?Everything is in order and I only have to be there at two to start themoff. Everybody is placed on the platform and everybody is satisfied. Theunveiling will be at three-thirty. You are going out with Mrs. Matildaearly, aren't you? I want you to see me come prancing up at thehead of the mounted police. Won't you be proud of me?" "Sometimes, really, I think you are the missing twin to little BillyBob, " answered Phoebe with a laugh, but in an instant her face becamegrave again. "I'm worried about Caroline Darrah, " she said softly. "Ifound her crying last night after I had finished work. I was staying herewith Mrs. Matilda for the night and I went into her room for a moment onthe chance that she would be awake. She said she had wakened from an uglydream--but I know she dreads this presentation, and I don't blame her. Itwas lovely of her to want to give the statue and plucky of her to comeand do it--but it's in every way trying for her. " "And isn't she the darling child?" answered David Kildare, a tender smilecoming into his eyes. "Plucky! Well I should say so! To come dragging oldPeters Brown's money-bags down here just as soon as he croaked, with theexpress intention of opening up and passing us all our wads back. Couldanything as--as pathetic ever have happened before?" "No, " answered Phoebe. Then she said slowly, tentatively, as she lookedinto David's eyes that were warm with friendliness for the inheritedfriend who had preempted a place in both their hearts: "And the one awfulthing for which she can offer no reparation she knows nothing of. I prayshe never knows!" "Yes, but it is about to do him to the death. I sometimes wake and findhim sitting over his papers at daybreak with burned-out eyes and as paleas a white horse in a fog. " "But why does it _have_ to be that way? Andrew isn't bitter and it isn'ther fault--she wasn't even born then. She doesn't even know. " "I think it's mostly the money, " said David slowly. "If she were poor itwould be all right to forgive her and take her, but a man couldn't verywell marry his father's blood money. And he's suffering God knows. HereI've been counting for years on his getting love-tied at home, and tothink it should be like this! Sometimes I wish she _did_ know--she offersherself to him like a little child; and thinks she is only doingreverence to the poet. It's driving him mad, but he won't cut and run. " "And yet, " said Phoebe, "it would kill her to know. She is so sensitiveand she has just begun to be herself with us. She has had so few friendsand she isn't like we are. Why, Polly Farrell could manage such asituation better than Caroline Darrah. She is so elemental that she ispositively--primitive. I am frightened about it sometimes--I can onlytrust Andrew. " As Phoebe spoke her eyes grew sad and her lips quivered. "Dear heart, " said David as he took both her hands in his, "it's just oneof those fatal things that no man can see through; he can just bethankful that there's a God to handle 'em. " There were times when DavidKildare's voice held more of tenderness than Phoebe was calculated towithstand without heroic effort. It behooved her to exert the utmost atthis moment in order that she might hold her own. "It's making me thin, " she ventured as she shook a little shower of tearsoff her black lashes and again smilingly regained control of her ownhands, but displaying a slender blue-veined wrist for his sympatheticinspection. "Help!" exclaimed David, taking possession of the wrist and circling itwith his thumb and forefinger. "Let me send for a crate of eggs and acase of the malt-milk! You poor starved peach-bud you, _why won't_ youmarry me and let me feed you? I'm going--" "But you and the major both recommended 'lovers' troubles' to me, David, "Phoebe hazarded. "I only recommended _my_ own special brand, remember, " retorted David. "Iwon't have you ill! I'm going to see that you do as I say about your--" "David Kildare, " remarked the major from the door into the hall, "if youuse that tone to the grand jury they will shut up every saloon in Hell'sHalf Acre. Hail the judge! My boy, my boy, I knew you'd line up when thetime came--and the line!" "Can I count on the full artillery of the _Gray Picket_ brigade, Major?"demanded David with delight in his eyes as he returned the major'svigorous hand-shake. "Hot shot, grape, canister and shrapnel, sir! Horses in lather, guns onthe wheel and bayonets set. We'll bivouac in the camp of the enemy on thenight of the election! We'll--" "I don't believe you will want to lie down in the lair of the blind tigeras soon as that, Major, " laugher Phoebe. "Phoebe, " answered the major, "politics makes strange bed-fellows. MikeO'Rourke, the boss of the democratic Irish, was around this morninghunting for David Kildare with the entire green grocer's vote in hispocket. He spoke of the boy as his own son. " "Good for old Mike!" laughed David. "It's not every boy who can boast anintimate friendship with his corner grocer from childhood up. It means acertain kind of---self-denial in the matter of apples and othertemptations. I used to go to the point of an occasional errand for him. Those were the days, Phoebe, when you sat on the front steps and playedhollyhock dolls. Wish I'd kidnapped you then--when I could!" "It would have saved us both lots of time--and trouble, " answered Phoebedaringly from the protection of the major's presence. "David, sir, " said the major who had been busy settling himself in hischair and lighting his pipe during this exchange of pleasantries betweenDavid and Phoebe, to the like of which he was thoroughly accustomed, "this is going to be a fight to the ditches. I believe the whiskyring that controls this city to be the worst machine south of Mason andDixon's. State-wide prohibition voted six months ago and every saloon inthe town going full tilt night and day! They own the city council, theboard of public works and the mayor, but none of that compares inseriousness to the debauching of our criminal courts. The grand jury ishelpless if the judge dismisses every true bill they return--and Taylordoes it every time if it is a whisky law indictment or pertainingthereto, and most of the bills are at least distantly pertaining. Sothere you have us bound and helpless--a disgrace to the nation, sir, anda reproach to good government!" "Yes, Major, they've got us tied up some--but they forgot to gag us, "answered David with a smile. "Your editorial in the _Gray Picket_, calling on me to run for criminal court judge, has been copied in everypaper in the state and some of the large northern sheets. I am willing tomake the try, Major. I've practised down there more than you'd think andit's rotten from the cellar steps to the lightning-rod. Big black buck issent up for rioting down at Hein's Bucket of Blood dive--stand aside andforget about it--while some poor old kink is sent out to the pen forrunning into a flock of sleepy hens in the dark, 'unbenkownst' entirely. I defended six poor pick-ups last week myself, and I guess Taylor sawmy blood was on the boil at the way he's running things. I'm ready totake a hand with him, but it will take some pretty busy doing around tobeat the booze gang. Am I the man--do you feel sure?" As David questioned the major his jaw squared itself determinedly. Therewas a rather forceful sort of man appearing under the nonchalant Davidwhom his friends had known for years. A wild pride stirred in Phoebe tosuch an extent that she caught her breath while she waited for themajor's reply. "Yes, David, " answered the major as he looked up at him with his keen oldeagle eyes, "I think you are. You've had everything this nation can giveyou in the way of fighting blood from Cowpens to Bull Run, and when youspeak in a body legislative your voice can be but an echo of the men whosired you, statesmen, most of them; so it is to you and your class wemust look for clean government. It is your arraignment of the mayor andthe judge on the hay-market question that has made every decentorganization in the city look to you to begin the fight for a clean-upreorganization. They have all rallied to your support. Show your colors, boy, and, God willing, we will smash this machine to the last cog and geton a basis of honest government. " "Then here goes the hottest fight Davie knows how to put to them! Andit's going to be an honest one. I'll go before the people of this cityand promise them to enforce law and order, but I'll not _buy_ a vote of aman of them. That I mean, and I hereby hand it out to you tworepresentatives of the press. From now on 'not a dollar spent' is theword and I'm back of it to make it go. " As he spoke, Kildare turned toPhoebe and looked at her as man to man with nothing in his voice but thecool note of determination. It was a cold dash for Phoebe but thereaction brought hot pride to her eyes. "Yes, David, " she answered, "you can and you will. " The determination in her voice matched that in his, and her eyes met hiswith a glance in which lay a new expression--not the old tolerantaffection nor the guarded defense, but one with a quality of comradeshipthat steadied every nerve in his body. Some men get the like from somewomen--but not often. "They will empty their pockets to fight you, " the major continuedthoughtfully. "But there is a deal of latent honesty in human nature, after all, that will answer the right appeal by the right man. A mancalls a man; and ask a crook to come in on the straight proposition, twoto one he'll step over the line before he stops himself. This is anindependent candidacy--let's ask them all in, without reference to age, color or 'previous condition of servitude'--in the broadest sense. " "Yes, and with the other construction, too, perhaps. We'll ask in thedarks--but they won't come. They'll vote with the jug crowd every time. No nig votes for Dave without the dollar and the small bottle. How manydo they poll, anyway, do you suppose?" "Less than a thousand I think. Not overwhelming! But in an independentrace it might hold the balance of power. We'll devise means to appeal tothem; we must keep up all the fences, you see. A man who doesn't see tohis fences is a mighty poor proposition as a farmer and--" "Hicks was here this morning, Major dear, to talk about that very thing, "said Mrs. Matilda as she came in just in time to catch the last of themajor's remark. "He says that ten hogs got through into the north pastureand rooted up acres of grass and if you don't get the new posts to repairthe fence he can't answer for the damage done. He told you about it morethan a month ago and--" "David Kildare, " said the major with an enigmatical smile, "what you needto see you through life is a wife. When a man mounts a high-horseaeroplane and goes sailing off, dimity is the best possible ballast. Consider the matter I beg of you--don't be obdurate. " "Why, of course David is going to marry some day, " answered Mrs. Matildaas she beamed upon them. "A woman gets along nicely unmarried but it iscruel to a man. Major, Jeff is waiting to help you into your uniform. Dobe careful, for it is mended to the last stitch now and I don't see howit is going to hold together many more times. " "Gray uniforms have held together a long time, Matilda, " answered themajor softly as he took his departure. "And we must all hurry and have lunch, " said Mrs. Buchanan. "Phoebeand I want to be there in plenty of time to see the parade arrive. Italways gives me a thrill to see the major ride up at the head of hiscompany. I've never got over it all these years. " "How 'bout that, Phoebe?" asked David, once more his daring insistentself. "Seems it wasn't so young in me after all to think you might thrilla few glads to see me come prancing up. Now, will you be good?" And it was only a little over two hours later that the parade moved onits way from the public square to the park. A goodly show they made andan interesting one, the grizzled old war-dogs in their faded uniformswith faces aglow under their tattered caps. They trudged along undertheir ragged banners in hearty good will, with now a limp and now a haltand all of them entirely out of step with the enthusiastic young band inits natty uniform. They called to one another, chaffed the mountedofficers, sang when the spirit moved them and acted in every way likeboys who were off on the great lark of their lives. All along the line of march there were crowds to see them and cheer them, with here and there a white-haired woman who waved her handkerchief andsmiled at them through a rain of tears. The major rode at the head of a small and straggling division of cavalrywhose men ambled along and guyed one another about the management oftheir green livery horses who were inclined to bunch and go wild with themusic. A few pieces of heavy artillery lumbered by next, and just behind themcame three huge motor-cars packed and jammed with the old fellows whowere too feeble to keep up with the procession. They were most of themfrom the Soldiers' Home and in spite of empty coat sleeves and crutchesthey bobbed up and down and waved their caps with enthusiasm as cheerafter cheer rose whenever they came into sight. Andrew Sevier stood at his study window and watched them go past, marching to the conflicting tunes of _The Bonnie Blue Flag_, played bythe head band, and _Dixie_ by the following one. It was great to see themagain after five years; and in such spirits! He felt a cheer rise to hislips and he wanted to open the window and give lusty vent to it--but akeen pain caught it in his throat. Always before he had ridden with David at the head of the division of theConfederacy's Sons, but to-day he stood behind the window and watchedthem go past him! There were men in those ranks who had slept in theditches with his father, and to whom he had felt that his presence wouldbe a reminder of an exceeding bitterness. The had quietly fought theacceptance of the statue offered by the daughter of Peters Brown from thebeginning, but the granddaughter of General Darrah, who had led them atChickamauga, must needs command their acceptance of a memorial to him andher mother. And they would all do her honor after the unveiling. Andrew could almostsee old General Clopton stand with bared head and feel the thrill withwhich the audience would listen to what would be a tender tribute to thewar women. A wave of passionate joy swelled up in his heart--he _wanted_them to cheer her and love her and adopt her! It was her baptism into herheritage! And he gloried in it. Then across his joy came a curious stifling depression--he found himselflistening as if some one had called him, called for help. The music wasdying away in the distance and the cheers became fainter and fainteruntil their echo seemed almost a sob. Before he had time to realize whathe did he descended the stair, crossed the street and let himself intothe Buchanan house. He stood just within the library door and listened again. A profoundstillness seemed to beat through the deserted rooms--then he saw her! Shesat with her arms outspread across the table and her head bent upon apile of papers. She was tensely still as if waiting for something tosound around her. "Caroline!" It was the first time he had called her by her name andthough the others had done it from the first, she had never seemed tonotice his more formal address. It was beyond him to keep the tendernessthat swept through every nerve out of his voice entirely. "Yes, " she answered as she raised her head and looked at him, her eyesshining dark in her white face, "I know I'm a coward--did you come backto make me go? I thought they might not miss me until it was too late tocome for me. I didn't think--I--could stand it--please--please!" "You needn't go at all, dear, " he said as he took the cold hands in hisand unclasped the wrung fingers. "Why didn't you tell them? They wouldn'thave insisted on your going. " "I--I couldn't! I just could not say what I felt to--to--_them_. I wantedto come--the statue suggested itself--for her. I ought to have given itand gone back--back to my own life. I don't belong--there is somethingbetween them all and me. They love me and try to make me forget it and--" "But, don't you see, child, that's just it? They love you so they holdyou against all the other life you have had before. We're a strong lovepeople down here--we claim our own!" A note in his voice brought Andrewto his senses. He let her hands slip from his and went around thetable and sat down opposite to her. "And so you ran away and hid?" Hesmiled at her reassuringly. "Yes. I knew I ought not to--then I heard the music and I couldn't lookor listen. I--why, where did you come from? I thought you were in theparade with David. I felt--if you knew you would understand. I wishedthat I had asked you--had told you that I couldn't go. Did you come backfor me?" "No, " answered Andrew with a prayer in his heart for words to cover factsfrom the clear eyes fixed on his--clear, comforted young eyes that lookedright down to the rock bed of his soul. "You see the old boys ratherupset me, too. I have been away so long--and so many of them are missing. I'm just a coward, too--'birds of a feather'--take me under your wing, will you?" "I believe one of those 'strange wild things' has been flying around inthe atmosphere and has taken possession of us again, " said CarolineDarrah slowly, never taking her eyes from his. "I don't know why I know, but I do, that you came to comfort me. I was thinking about you andwishing I could tell you. Now in just this minute you've made me see thatI have a right to all of you. I'm never going to be unhappy about it anymore. After this I'm going to belong as hard as ever I can. " Something crashed in every vein in Andrew Sevier's body, lilted in hisheart, beat in his throat and sparkled in his eyes. He sprang to his feetand held out his hand to her. "Then come on and be adopted, " he said. "I shall order the electric, andyou get into your hat and coat. We can skirt the park and come in at theside of the Temple back of the platform so that you can slip into placebefore one-half of the sky-rockets of oratory have been exploded. Willyou come?" "Will you stay with me--right by me?" she asked, timidity and courage atwar in her voice. "Yes, " he answered slowly, "I'll stay by you as long as you want me--if Ican. " "And that, " said Caroline Darrah Brown as she turned at the door andlooked straight at him with a heavenly blush mounting in her cheeks, thetenderness of the ages curling her lips and the innocence of all of sixyears in her eyes, "will be always!" With which she disappearedinstantly beyond the rose damask hangings. And so when the ceremonies in the park were over and Caroline stood toclasp hands with each of the clamorous gray squad, Andrew Sevier waitedjust behind her and he met one after another of the sharp glances shot athim from under grizzled brows with a dignity that quieted even thegrimmest old fire-eater. And there are strange wild things that take hold on the lives ofmen--vital forces against which one can but beat helpless wings of mortalspirit. CHAPTER VIII THE SPELL AND ITS WEAVING And after the confusion, the distress and the joy of the afternoon out inthe park when she and her gift had been accepted and acclaimed, therecame days full of deep and perfect peace to Caroline Darrah Brown. Long, strenuously delightful mornings she spent with Tempie in theexcitements of completing her most comprehensive culinary education andthe amount of badinage she exchanged upon the subject with David Kildareoccupied many of his unemployed minutes. His demands for the mostintricate and soul-trying concoctions she took a perfect joy in meetingand his enthusiasm stimulated her to the attempting of the most difficultfeats. His campaign was on with full force and his days were busy ones, but hemanaged to drop into the kitchen at any time when he deemed it at allcertain that he would find her there and was always fully rewarded. He often found Andrew Sevier in the library in consultation with themajor over the management of the delicate points in the campaign andoccasionally brought him into Tempie's kingdom with him. And Carolinelaughed and blushed and explained it all to them with the most beautifulsolicitude, Tempie looking on positively bridling with pride. And there were other mornings when she took her sewing and crept in thelibrary to work, while the major and Andrew held consultation over theaffairs of the present or absent David. The whisky ring had purchased one of the morning papers, which hadhitherto borne a reputation for extreme conservatism, and had it appeareach morning with brilliant, carefully modulated arguments for themachine; doctored statistics and brought allegations impossible to beinvestigated in so short a time. And all of every afternoon and evening Andrew Sevier sat at aneditorial desk down at the office of the reform journal and pumped hotshot through their flimsy though plausible arguments. His blood was upand his pen more than a match for any in the state, so he often sat mostof the night writing, reviewing and meeting issue after issue. Theeditor-in-chief, whose heart was in making a success of the campaignby which his paper would easily become the leading morning paper, gavehim full rein, aided and abetted him by his wide knowledge of all theconditions and pointed out with unerring judgment the sore spots on thehide of the enemy at which to send the gadfly of investigation. So each day while Andrew and the major went carefully over possibilitiesto be developed by and against the enemy, Caroline listened with absorbedinterest. Now and then she would ask a question which delighted them bothwith its ingenuousness, but for the most part she was busily silent. And in the exquisiteness of her innocence she was weaving the spell ofthe centuries with the stitches in her long seams. There are yet left inthe world a few of the elemental women whose natures are what they wereoriginally instituted and Caroline Darrah was unfolding her predestinatedself as naturally as a flower unfolds in the warmth of the springsunshine. The cooking for David and Andrew, the sewing for busy Phoebe, the tactfully daughterly attentions to the major and Mrs. Matilda wereall avenues for the outpouring of the maturing woman within, andpowerless in his enchantment, Andrew Sevier was swept along on the tideof her tenderness. One day she had picked up his heavy gray gloves from the table andtightened the buttons, listening all the while to an absorbing account ofa counter-move he was planning for the next day's editorial, and then hadbeen delightfully confused and distressed by his gratitude. The littlescene had sent him to the bare fields to fight for hours. The major fairly gloried in her knowledge of the arrangement of hislibrary and delighted her with quick requests for his books during themost absorbing moments of their discussions. And again the observation that the spell was not being woven for himalone went far to the undoing of Andrew Sevier. Her interest in theaffairs of David Kildare disturbed him not at all, but her sympatheticand absorbed attention to a bad-luck tale with which Hobson Capersreported to the major one morning when she sat with them, had sent himhome in a most depressed state of mind, and the picture of her troubledeyes raised to Hobson's as he recounted the details of the wrenchedshoulder of his favorite horse, followed him through the day withtormenting displeasure, though the offer of a cut-glass bottle full of adelightfully scented lotion for the amelioration of the suffering animalbrought the semblance of a grin. And Hob, the brute, had gone away withit in his pocket, accompanied by explicit directions as to itsapplication by means of a soft bit of flannel the size of a pockethandkerchief, also provided. Andrew Sevier had a vision of the bottleand the rag being installed in the most holy of holies in the apartmentsof Hobson Capers and experienced a sweeping smashing rage thereat. A day or two later a scene he had witnessed in the kitchen, in whichCaroline and Tempie hung anxiously over a simmering pan of lemon juice, sugar, rye whisky and peppermint which, when it arrived at the propersirupy condition, was to be administered as a soothing potion to thehoarse throat of Peyton Kendrick, who perched croaking on a chair closeby, drove him to seeking comfort from Phoebe much to her apparentamusement but secret perturbation, for Phoebe both comprehended andfeared the situation. And thus there is also much of the primitive left in the heart of themodern man on which the elemental forces work. Then the day for the election came nearer and nearer by what seemedfleeting hours. The whole city was thoroughly aroused and fighting hardunder one banner or the other. As the last week drew to a close and leftonly the few days of the following week for a round-up of the forcesbefore the Wednesday election, the men all became absorbed to the pointof oblivion to everything save the speculation as to how the race wouldgo. But it was not in the nature of David Kildare to be held against thegrindstone of serious endeavor too long at a time, and in the midst ofthe turmoil he proceeded to plot for a brief and exciting relaxation forhimself and his strenuous friends, and he chose Saturday for theaccomplishment thereof. The morning dawned in a fluff of gray fog that hung low down over theavenue, though the sun showed signs of soon piercing the gloom. The clashand clatter of the city was fast approaching a noonday roar but stillPhoebe slept in the room which adjoined that of Caroline Darrah Brown. Caroline cautiously opened the door and stole in gently to the side ofthe bed, then paused and looked down with delight. Phoebe, asleep, was athing calculated to bring delight to any beholder. The brilliant, casual, insouciant, worldly Phoebe had gone out on a dream-hunt and a deliciouscurled-up flower lay in her place, with turned lashes dipping againstsoft tinted cheeks. Her head rested on one bare white arm and one handcurled under her daintily molded chin. Caroline caught her breath--thiswas a pathetic Phoebe when one thought of the most times Phoebe, cool, self-reliant--perforce! "The darling, " she whispered to herself as she slipped to her knees bythe low bed, "I can't bear to wake her, but I'm afraid not to; it's anhour late already. Dear!" She slipped her arm under the glossy headand pressed a little kiss on the dimple over the northeast corner of thewarm lips. Phoebe's gray eyes smiled themselves open for a fraction of a second, then she nestled to Caroline's shoulder and calmly drifted off again inpursuit of the dream. "Dearie, " Caroline begged, "it's after ten!" Phoebe sighed, nestled closer and drifted again. Caroline settled herselfagainst the pillows and pressed her cheek against the thick black braidthat curled across the sleeper's bare shoulder. She was incapable ofanother combat with the sleep-god and decided to wait. Besides, the awakePhoebe was busy--and elusive--not given to bestowing or receiving aughtsave the most fleeting caresses. So for a few moments Caroline Darrah'sarms held her hungrily. "Be-autiful, " came in a sleepy voice from against her arm, "is the watercold?" "Awful this morning, " answered Caroline tightening her arms. "Just alittle hot, Phoebe, please! I'll tell Annette. " "No, " answered Phoebe, as with a whirl of the covers she sat up andtook her knees into her embrace. "No, sweetie, in I go! The colder thebetter after I'm in. How grand and Burne-Jonesy you look in that linenpinafore--indulging in the life domestic? I think I catch a whiff of yourculinary atmosphere--and, oh, I--am so--hungry. " "Tempie has a dear little plump bird for you and some waffles and anomelet. Let me have Annette bring them to you here! Please, Phoebe, please!" "Caroline Darrah Brown, " said Phoebe in a tragic voice, "do you know Igained a pound and a quarter last week and that makes me three and a halfpounds past the danger-mark? Two raw eggs and an orange is all I can havethis morning. I'm going to cry, I think!" "No, " answered Caroline Darrah positively, "you are going to eat thatbird and the omelet. You may substitute dry toast for the waffle ifTempie will let you. She's angry, and I'm in trouble. She won't usethat recipe I got from your Mammy Kitty to make the cake I promised DavidKildare for tea. She says she and her family have been making Buchanancake ever since there was any cake and she is not going to begin nowmaking Donelson mixtures. I think I hurt her feelings. What must I do?" "Let her alone, she has the right of it and the cake is sure to be justas good, " laughed Phoebe. "But I promised him it should be just like the one you gave us the otherafternoon, only with the icing and nuts thicker than the cake, " answeredCaroline in real distress. "He says that Mr. Sevier likes it that way, too, " she added ingenuously. "Caroline Darrah, you spoil those men to the most outrageous extent. It'slike David to want his icing and nuts thicker than the cake; he alwaysdoes--and gets it, but it isn't good for him. " As Phoebe spoke she smiledat Caroline Darrah indulgently. "I can't help it, Phoebe, " she answered with the rose wave mounting underher eyes. "I'm stupid--I don't know how to manage them. I'm just--fond ofthem. " For a second Phoebe regarded her from under veiled eyes, then saidguardedly, "Doesn't that give them rather the advantage to start with--ifyou let them find it out?" "Yes, " answered Caroline as she pressed her cheek against Phoebe's arm, "I know it does but I can't help it. I have to trust to them tounderstand. " For a moment Phoebe was silent and across her mind there flashed David'sdescription of a man who sat into the gray dawn fighting his battle--hisown and hers--a man who wouldn't run! "Perhaps that's the best way after all, dearie, " she said as she preparedto slip out of bed. "Only it takes the exceptional woman to get resultsfrom your method. It ought to work with David; others don't seem to!" "Phoebe, Phoebe--why--why?" and Caroline caught and held Phoebe for a fewseconds. "Don't you care at all?" "Yes, child--a lot! Having admitted which I will betake myself to theplunge--leaving you to finish the cake for the precious thing. " In asecond Phoebe smiled back from the door: "Just one little waffle, tell Tempie, " she said. "And I'm due to make alightning toilet if I get to that Woman's Guild meeting at eleven-thirty. Call the office for me and tell them not to send Freckles untilone-thirty to-day. And, dearie, please call Polly and tell her to be sureand go to that meeting of the Daughters of the Colonies so she can tellme what happens. Tell her to get it all straight--names and all and Iwill phone her. And not to let them office or committee me just becauseI'm not there! You are a dear!" Caroline smiled happily as she went back to the mixing of the confectionof affection to be administered to David with his tea as by request, andshe laughed as she heard Phoebe's mighty splash. And a half-hour later, during the discussion of the plump bird and theone crisp waffle, David Kildare whirled in, beaming with joy over hisplans. In fact he failed to manage anything in the way of a formalgreeting. "Girls!" he exclaimed from the doorway, "the hunt is on for to-night!Everybody hurry up! Caroline, Mrs. Matilda wants you to motor out withher to the Forks to see about having Jeff and Tempie get ready for thesupper cooking--barbecue, birdies and the hot potato! Milly and Billy Bobare going and Polly and that Boston lad of yours, Caroline--yours if youcan hold him, which I don't think you can. And Mrs. Matilda says--" "Stop, " demanded Phoebe, "and tell us what you are talking about, David. " "I'm surprised at you, Phoebe, for being so dense, " answered David with adelighted grin at having created a flurry. "Didn't you hear me tellCaroline Darrah Brown at least a week ago that possums and persimmons areripe and that the first night after a rain and a fog we would allturn out and show her how to shake down a few? The whole glad push isgoing. Mrs. Matilda and I decided it an hour ago while you were stillasleep. I've telephoned everybody--possums and persimmons wait for noman. " "How perfectly delightful, " said Caroline with eyes agleam withenthusiasm. "Can everybody go?" David had failed to mention Andrew Sevierin his enumeration, an omission that she had instantly caught. "Yes, " answered David, "everybody that had engagements we asked theengagement to go, too. Even Andy is going to cut the poems for the lark!Thuse up a little, Phoebe, please--give us the smile! I'm backing you toshake down ten possums against anybody's possible five. " "I don't think that I can go, " answered Phoebe quietly. "Mrs. Cherry hasthe president of the Federation of Women's Clubs staying with her and I'mgoing to dine there to-night to discuss the suffrage platform. " There wasa cool note in Phoebe's voice and a sudden seriousness had come into herexpression. "Now, Phoebe, " answered David, looking down at her with the quicklyconcealed tenderness that always flashed up in his eyes when he spokedirectly to her, "do you suppose for one minute that I hadn't fixed allthat the first thing? Mrs. Cherry held back a bit but I rabbit-footed theold lady into being wild to go and then wheedled the correct hostesssome; and there you are! Caroline is to send them out in her motor andI'm going to make Hob and Tom chase the possum in company of the merrywidow and Mrs. Big Bug. Now give me a glad word!" "I'll see, " answered Phoebe. "I can let you know by two o'clock whether Ican go, " and as she spoke she gathered up her gloves and bag and settledher trim hat by a glance at the long mirror across the room. "What--what did you say?" demanded David aghast in a second. "If youthink for one minute that I'm going to stand for--" "But you must remember that my business engagements must always besettled before I can make social ones--at two o'clock then! Good-by, Caroline, dear, such a comfy night under your care! I'm going to stop inthe library to speak to the major and then on to the guild if any onecalls. Here's to you both!" and she coolly tipped them a kiss from theends of her fingers. "Caroline, " remarked David, "I reckon I must have giggled too loud in mycradle, and the Lord turned around and made Phoebe to settle my glee, don't you think?" And as Caroline saw him depart with his usual smile and jest she littlerealized that a jagged wound ran across his blithe heart. The David within was awakening and developing a highly sensitized nature, which caught Phoebe's note of disapproval, divined its reason and wincedunder the humiliation of its distrust. The old David would have laughed, chaffed her and gone his way rejoicing--the new David suffered, for adeeply-loved woman can inflict a wound on the inner man that throbs tothe depths. Across the hall Phoebe found the major at his table and, as usual, buriedin his books. He was reading one and holding another open in his handwhile his pen balanced itself over a page for a note. Phoebe hesitated onthe threshold, loath to disturb his feast. But before she could retreathe glanced up and his smile flashed a welcome and an invitation to her, while his books fell together as he rose and held out his hands. "My dear, " he said, "I was just reading what Bob Browning says about a'pearl and a girl'--and thinking of you when up I look to behold you. " "Thank you, and good morning, Major, " returned Phoebe as a slow smilespread over her grave face. "I won't disturb you, for I've only a moment!This hunt to-night--it--it troubles me. Has David forgotten that he is tomake a speech on the cutting of the conduit over in the sixteenth ward athalf-past seven o'clock? It is one of his most important appointmentsand--" "Phoebe, " answered the major as he balanced his pen on one long leanfinger, "do you suppose that women will ever learn that men coulddispense with them entirely after their second year--if it wasn't for theloneliness? I see David Kildare failed to make a sufficiently fullapron-string report to you this morning of his intentions for the day. " "Sometimes, Major, you are completely horrid, " answered Phoebe with botha smile and a spark in her eyes, "but I do care--that is, I'm interested, and--" "It seems to me, " the major filled in the pause, "that you are a trifleshort on a woman's long suit--patience. Now in the case of David Kildare, you don't want to give him one moment of tortoise speed but must keep himpacing with the hare entirely. Remember the result of that race?" "But I want him to win--he must! I think--" "Did you hear that speech he made to the motley and their friends lastMonday night? That was as fine an interpretation of the ethics involvedin the enforcement of law as I have ever heard or read--delivered tosimple minds unversed in the science ethical. He landed hot shot into thevery stronghold of the enemy and his audience saw his points. I find themind of David Kildare rather well provisioned with the diverse ammunitionneeded in political warfare. The whisky ring is making a stand andfighting the inches of retreat. I believe it to be retreat!" "But can it be, Major? Andrew says that money is pouring into the city, even from other states. They intend to buy the election, come what will. How can a gentleman fight such a thing with 'not a dollar spent'announcement?" "Phoebe, " said the major with the quick illumination of one of hischallenging smiles, "you can generally depend on the Almighty to back theright man when he's fighting the right fight. Suppose you put up a littlefaith on the event--be something of a sporting character and back Davidto win. Backing thoughts help in the winnings they tell us these days. " "I have, Major--I am--I do, but this hunt to-night positively--positivelyfrightens me. It seemed so--so regardless of consequences--so trivialand--and inconsequent that--" Phoebe paused and the major was astonishedto see that she was veiling tears with her thick black lashes. "Phoebe, child, " he said as he bent over quickly and laid his hand onhers, "I ought to have answered you sooner. He is prepared to make thespeech of his life tonight at seven-thirty, but at ten he joins hisfriends to hunt. Didn't you draw your conclusions hurriedly--and againstDavid?" In a second the tightness in Phoebe's throat relaxed and the tears flowedback to their source, only one little splash jeweled her cheek that hadflamed into a blush of joy and contrition. "Ah, " she said softly as she drew a deep breath, "I am soglad--glad!... I must hurry, for I'm an hour late already. Good-by!" "Good-by, and remember that faith is one of the by-products of affection. And I might add that the right kind of faith finds tactful ways of--ofadmission. Do you see?" And the major held her hand long enough to makePhoebe look into his kind eyes. And from the ten minutes in the library of Major Buchanan thedisciplining of the heart of Phoebe Donelson began and was carried onwith utter relentlessness. The first castigation occurred when Davidfailed to phone her at two o'clock, and a half-hour later Caroline Darrahcalled anxiously to know her decision and impart the information thatDavid had arranged that she and Phoebe go out to the fork in her car withMrs. Buchanan. Phoebe, to her own surprise, found that she intenselydesired another arrangement that involved David and his small electric, but she received the blow with astonishing meekness and delightedCaroline with her enthusiastic acquiescence in the plans for the evening. And so through the busy afternoon while David Kildare met committees, sent in reports and talked over plans, he also managed to sandwich in thesettling of numerous little details that went to make good the night'ssport. And it was all done in apparent high spirits but with an indignantpain in his usually glad heart. Meanwhile Caroline Darrah, in a whirl of domestic excitement incident tothe preparing of a hamper for the midnight lunch out on the ridge, whichshe had entreated Mrs. Matilda to leave entirely to her newly-acquiredhousewifery, stepped into the middle of the pool political and never knewit, in the innocence of her old-fashioned woman's heart. "Miss Ca'line, " ventured Jeff as he assisted her in packing the hugehamper that occupied the center of the dining-room table, "is Mister Davesure 'pinted to be jedge of the criminal court--he ain't a-joking is he?" "Why, no, indeed, Jeff, " answered Caroline Darrah as she rolledsandwiches in oiled paper before putting them into a box. "What made youthink that?" "Well, it's a kinder poor white folksy job fer him, fooling withcrap-shooting niggers and whisky soaks, but if he wants it he's got terhave it, hear me! And Miss Ca'line, some of us colored set has made upour minds that it's time fer us ter git out and dust ter help him. Yousee this here is a independent race and it's who gits the votes, no'Publican er Dimocrat to it. That jest naterally turns the colored voteloose at the polls. And fer the most of the black fools it's who bids themostes, I'm sorry ter say, as is the fact. " "But you know Mr. David has said from the first that he will not buy avote. Will he have to lose--how many of the colored people are there--oh, Jeff, will he have to be beaten?" Caroline Darrah clasped a sandwich tothe death in her hands and questioned the negro with the same faith thatshe would have used in questioning Major Buchanan. "No, ma'am, he ain't going ter git nigger-beat if we can help it--ussociety colored set, you understand, Miss Ca'line. " Jeff's manner was aninteresting mixture of pomposity and deference. "I don't quite understand, Jeff; you explain to me, " answered CarolineDarrah in the kind and respectful voice that she always used to thesefamily servants, which they understood perfectly and in which they took ahuge delight. "Well, it's jest this way, Miss Ca'line, they is sets in the coloredfolks jest like they is in the white folks. We is the _it_ set, me andTempie and Eph and all the fust family people. We's got our lawyers anddentists and a university and a ice-cream parlor with the swellest kindersoda fount in front. You heard how Mister David got that Country Clubfor us, didn't you? Well, he backed the rent notes of the soda fount, too--and he's jest naterly the fust set candidate fer anything he wantster be. " "Isn't he just the kindest best man, Jeff?" asked Caroline Darrah, in herenthusiasm sacrificing a frosted muffin cake between her clasped hands. "Yes'm, he am that fer a fact, and they can't no low-down whisky bum beathim fer jedge, neither--'specially ef they count on using niggers to doit with. You see the race am so mighty close, that all the booze bossesis a telling the niggers that they is got the 'ballunce uf power' as theycalls it and it's up ter them ter elect a jedge fer whisky, the friend'at'll let 'em drink it down. Why, they's got out a bottle of whisky ashas on the label 'Your Colored Friend', and it's put up in clear glassand at the bottom you can see five new dimes a-shining. A nigger gits thebottle and the fifty cents ef he votes with them. Old Booze is flingingmoney right and left, fer if Mister David gits in he'll shore have tergit out. " "That is perfectly awful, Jeff!" exclaimed Caroline with horror-strickeneyes. "The poor people made to sell themselves that way--and the wholecity to lose David, a good judge, because they can't know what they do. It is horrible and nobody can help it!" "I ain't so sure about that, Miss Ca'line! Me and Tempie and Doctor PikeJohnson and the dentist and Bud Simms, the man what runs the Palms, havethought up a scheme ef we kin work it. You see they ain't a nigger fromBlack Bottom to Mount Nebo as wouldn't sell his soul ter git ter theCountry Club and say he's been invited there. Now, we thought as how itwould be a good plan ter give it out that we was going to have erDavid Kildare jedge celebration out there and have invertation ticketsprinted. Then we could go ter the polls and fight down any dollar bottleof whisky ever put up with one of them invites--every man ter bring alady, and dancing down in a corner of the card. We'd scotch them bysaying no 'lection, no dance, so they'll vote straight. Ain't that theswell scheme? It'll work if we can make it go. " "Jeff, " she exclaimed, "that is a perfectly splendid idea! You must doit, for offering them fun will be no bribery like whisky and money--itwill do them _good_. " Sometimes it is just as well that a woman be nottoo well versed in the science logical. "Yes'm, and I believe it will work--ef we jest had a barbecue to put downin the other corner opposite the dancing I know it would draw 'em, butice-cream will be about all we can git fer the subscription money, andcold as it is ice-cream won't be no drawing card. " And there was no doubt that Jeff unfolded his plan to Caroline Darrahfrom pure love of sympathy and excitement and for no ulterior purpose, although it served to further his schemes as well as if he had been of amost wily turn of mind. "Jeff, " exclaimed Caroline Darrah excitedly, "how much would it take tohave a barbecue and ice-cream and everything good to go with it and a bigband of music and fireworks and--" "Golly, Miss Ca'line, they will be most five hundred of 'em and the'scription ain't but a little over fifty dollars. I'm counting on thedancing and the gitting-there ter draw 'em. " "We can't risk it, " said Caroline. "I will give you two hundred and fiftydollars and you can let it be known that no such celebration ever was asthe one his colored friends are going to give in honor of the election ofJudge David Kildare--his united colored friends, Jeff, high and low. " "Miss Ca'line, I'm a-skeered to take it! Mister David, he's jestnaterly--" "Mr. David need never know about it. It is a subscription and you havecollected it--advertise that fact. I'm one of his friends and I cansubscribe even if I am white. You must take it, and get to work about it. Only four more days, remember, and we all must work for Mr. David; andtoo, Jeff, for those poor ignorant people who would commit the crime ofletting themselves sell their votes. " There was real concern for theendangered souls of the coons in Caroline's voice, and Jeff was dulyimpressed. They both fell to work on the packing of the basket as Temple's voice washeard in the distance, for they knew she would express herself in nouncertain terms if she found the amount of work done unsatisfactory. But when he departed, Jeff carried in his pocket a slip of paper aboutwhich it nearly scared him to death to think, and one of the money-bagsof the late Peters Brown was eased by the extraction of a quarterthousand. Caroline was happy from a clear conscience and a virtuousfeeling of having saved a crisis for a dependent and ignorant people. Which goes to show that a woman can put her finger into a political pieand draw it out without even a stain, while to touch that same confectionever so lightly would dye a man's hand blood red. CHAPTER IX PURSUING THE POSSUM And as if in sympathy with the heart of the pursued possum, thethermometer began to fall in the afternoon and by night had established aclear, cold, windless condition of weather. The start for the Cliffs wasto be made from the fork of the River Road, where cars, horses, traps andhampers were to be left with the servants, who by half past nine werealready in an excited group around a blazing, dry oak fire, over whichtwo score plump birds were ready to be roasted, attended by theautocratic Tempie. Jeff piled high with brush a huge log whoseheart was being burned out for the baking of sundry potatoes, while thearoma from the barbecue pit was maddening to even a ten o'clock appetite, and no estimate could be made of what damage would be done after themidnight return from the trail of the wily tree fruit. David Kildare as usual was M. F. H. And his voice rang out as clearlyagainst the tall pines, while he welcomed the cars and traps full ofexcited hunters, as if he had not been speaking in a crowded hall for anhour or two. Mrs. Cherry Lawrence arrived early, accompanied by the distinguishedsuffragist, who was as alert for sensations new as if she had been one ofan exploration party into the heart of darkest Africa. They were attendedby Tom and also the suave Hobson, who was all attentions but whosemaneuvers in the direction of Caroline Darrah were pitiably fruitless. He was seconded in his attentions to the stranger by David with his mostfascinating manner, and Mrs. Cherry sparkled and glowed at him withsubdued witchery, while Tom sulked close at her side. Polly and young Boston had trailed Mrs. Buchanan's car on horses andPhoebe was intent on pinning up the débutante's habit skirt to acomfortable scramble length. Billy Bob fairly bubbled over with glee andMilly, who had come to assist Mrs. Matilda in overlooking thepreparations for the feast for the returned hunters, was already busyassembling hampers and cases on a flat rock over behind the largest fire. Her anxious heart was at rest about her nestlings, for Caroline's maid, Annette, had gone French mad over the babies and had begged the privilegeof keeping Mammy Betty company in her watch beside the cots. "Come here, Caroline, child, " called David from behind the farthest fire, "let me look at you! Seems to me you are in for a good freezing. " And hedrew her into the light of the blaze. She was kilted and booted and coated and belted in the most beautiful andwholly correct attire for the hunt that could possibly have beencontrived; that is, for a sedate cross-country bird stalk or a decoroustrap shooting, but for a long night scramble over the frozen ground shewas insufficiently clad. The other girls all wore heavy golf skirts andcoats and were muffled to their eyes; even the big-bug lady wore aknitted comforter high round her throat. Without doubt Caroline wouldhave been in for a cold deal, if David had not been more than equal toany occasion. "Here, Andy, skin out of that sweater and get into that extra buckskin inmy electric, " he said, and forthwith began without ceremony to assistAndrew Sevier in peeling off a soft, white, high-collared sweater hewore, and in less time than it took to think it he had slipped it overCaroline's protesting head, pulled it down around her slim hips almost towhere her kilts met her boots and rolled the collar up under her eyes. Then he immediately turned his attention to the arrival of the mongrelsleuths, each accompanied by a white-toothed negro of renownedcoon-fighting, possum-catching proclivities, whom he had assembled fromthe Old Harpeth to lead the hunt, thus leaving Caroline and Andrew alonefor the moment on the far side of the fire. "Indeed, I'm not going to have your sweater!" she protested, beginning todivest herself of the borrowed garment, but not knowing exactly how tocrawl out of its soft embrace. "Please, oh, please do!" he exclaimed quickly, and as he spoke he caughther hand away, that had begun to tug at the collar. "I wouldn't keep it for the world--and have you cold, but--I can't getout, " she answered with a laugh. "Please show me or call for help. " And as she pleaded Andrew Sevier towered beside her, tall and slender, while the cold breeze with its pine-laden breath ruffled his whiteshirt-sleeves across his arms. Caroline Darrah in the embrace of hisclinging apparel was a sight that sent the blood through his veins at arate that warred with the winds, and his eyes drank deeply. The colormounted under her eyes and with the unconsciousness of a child shenestled her chin in the woolly folds about the neck as she turned herface from the firelight. "Well, then, get David's coat from the car, " she pleaded. "Will you stand back in the shadow of that tree until I do?" he asked. He had caught across the fire a glimpse of the restive Hobson and asudden mad desire prompted him to snatch this one joy from Fate, comewhat would--just a few hours with her under the winter stars, when lifeseemed to offer so little in the count of the years. "Why, yes, of course! Did you think I'd dare go out in the dark alone, without you?" and her joyous ingenuous casting of herself upon hisprotection was positively poignant. "Hurry, please, because I--don't wantanybody to find me before you come!" After which request it took him verylittle time to run across the lot and vault the fence into the road wherethe electric stood. "It's so uncertain how things arrange themselves sometimes, some places, "she remarked to herself as she caught sight of the movements of thefoiled Hobson, whose search had now become an open maneuver. Suddenly she laid her cheek against the arm of the sweater and sniffed itwith her delicate nose--yes, there was the undeniable fragrance of themajor's Seven Oaks heart-leaf. "He steals the tobacco, too, " she againremarked to herself as she caught sight of him skirting the fires ashe returned. Just at this moment a pandemonium of yelps, barks, bays and yells brokeforth up the ravine and declared the hunt on. "Everybody follow the dogs and keep within hearing distance! We'll waitfor the trailers to come up when we tree before we shake down!" shoutedDavid as with one accord the whole company plunged into the woods. Away from the fire, the starlight, which was beginning to be reinforcedby the glow from a late old moon, was bright enough to keep the rush upthe ravine, over log and boulder, through tangle and across open, a nottoo dangerous foray. The first hurdle was a six-rail fence that snaked its way between afrozen meadow and a woods lot. David stationed himself on the far side ofthe lowest and strongest panel and proceeded to swing down the girls whomHob and Tom persuaded to the top rail. The champion for the rights of women took long and much assistance forthe mount and entrusted her somewhat bulky self to the strong arms ofDavid Kildare with a feminine dependence that almost succeeded incracking those stalwart supports. Polly climbed two rails, put her hand on the top and vaulted like a boyalmost into the embrace of young Massachusetts and together they racedafter the dogs, who were adding tumult to the hitherto pandemonium of thehot trail. Tom Cantrell managed Mrs. Cherry most deftly and seemed anxious to directDavid in the landing though she was most willing to trust it entirely tohim. After hurrying Phoebe to the top rail he vaulted lightly to the sideof David and departed in haste, taking the reluctant widow with him bymain force. Phoebe perched herself on the top of the fence, which brought her headsomewhat above the level of David's, and seemed in no hurry to descend inorder to be at the shake-down, which from the shouts and yelps seemedimminent. "Ready, or want to rest a minute?" asked David gently; but his eyeslooked past hers and there was the shadow of reserve in his voice. "No, " answered Phoebe, "but you must be tired so I'll just slip down, "and she essayed to cheat him with the utmost treachery. David neitherspoke nor looked at her directly but took her quietly in his arms andswung her to the ground beside him. Now this was not the first pursuit of the possum that had been attendedby Phoebe in the company of David Kildare, and she was prepared for theaudacious hint of a squeeze, with which he usually took his toll andwhich she always ignored utterly with reproving intent; the morereproving on the one or two occasions when she had been tempted intoyielding to the caress for the remotest fraction of a second. But forevery snub in the fence events that had been pulled off between them inthe past years, David was fully revenged by the impassive landing ofPhoebe on the dry and frozen grass at his side. Revenged--and there wassomething over that was cutting into her adamant heart like a two-edgemarble saw. But Phoebe had been born a thoroughbred and it was head up and run as shesaw in a second, so she smiled up at him and said in a perfectly friendlytone: "I really don't think we'd better wait for Caroline and Andrew. Do let'shurry, for they've treed, and I think those dogs will go mad in amoment!" And together they disappeared in the woodland. Around a tall tree that stood on the slope of the hill they found a scenethat was uproar rampant. Five maddened dogs gazed aloft into the gnarledbranches of the persimmon king and danced and jumped to the accompanimentof one another's insane yelps. A half-dozen negro boys were in the sameattitude and state of mind, and the tension was immense. Polly gasped and giggled and the suffrage lady almost became entangledwith the waltzing dogs in her endeavor to sight the quarry. "Dar he am!" exclaimed the blackest satyr, and he pointed to one of thelower limbs from which there hung by the tail the most pathetic littlebunch of bristles imaginable. "Le'me shake him down, Mister David, Ifoun' him!" "All right, shin up, but mind the limbs, " answered David. "And you, Jake, get the dogs in hand! We want to take home possums, not full dogs!" And like an agile ape the darky swung himself up and out on the low limb. "Here he come!" he shouted, and ducked to give a jerk that shook thewhole limb. The dogs danced and Polly squealed, while the rotund lady managed to stepon young Back Bay's toes and almost forgot to "beg pardon, " but Mr. Possum hung on by his long rat-tail with the greatest serenity. "Buck up thar, nigger, shake dat whole tree; dis here ain't nocake-walk, " one of his confrères yelled, and the sally was caught with aloud guffaw. Thus urged the darky braced himself and succeeded in putting the wholetree into a commotion, at the height of which there was a crash and ascramble from the top limb and in a second a ball of gray fur descendedon his woolly head, knocked him off his perch and crashed with him tothe ground. Then there ensued a raging battle in which were involved fivedogs, a long darky and a ring-tailed streak of coon lightning, whichwhirled and bit and scratched itself free and plunged into the darknessbefore the astonished hunters could get more than a glimpse of the mêlée. "Coon, coon!" yelled the negroes, and scattered into the woods at theheels of the discountenanced dogs. Mr. Possum, saved by the stiff fightput up by his ring-tailed woods-brother, had taken this opportunity ofunhanging himself and departing into parts unknown, perhaps a still morewily citizen after his threatened extinction. In a few minutes from up the hill came another tumult, and Jake raised along shout of "two possums, " which served to hasten the scramble of therest of the party through the underbrush to a breathless pace. Another gray ball hung to another limb and this time the derisive Jakesucceeded in the shake-down and the bagging amid the most breathlessexcitement. It was a sight to see the sophisticated little animal lielike dead and be picked up and handled in a state of seeming lifelessrigidity--a display of self-control that seemed to argue a superiority ofinstinct over reason. After this opening event the hunt swept on with a rapidly mounting countand a heavier and heavier bag. And, too, it was just as well that no one in particular, save thedefrauded Hobson, who was obliged to conceal his chagrin, was especiallymindful of the whereabouts of Caroline and the poet. In fact, it wouldhave been difficult for them to have located themselves in answer to awireless inquiry. Andrew had started out from the hiding tree with the intention of cuttingacross the trail of the hunters at right angles a little up the ravine, and he had trusted to a six-year-old remembrance of the lay of the landas he led the way across the frosty meadow and up the ridge at a briskpace. Caroline swung lithely along beside him and in the matter of fencestook Polly's policy of a hand up and then a high vault, which made forpractically no delay. They skirted the tangle of buck bushes and came outon the edge of the cliff just as the hunt swept by at their feet and onup the creek bed. They were both breathless and tingling with theexertion of their climb. "There they go--left behind--no catching them!" exclaimed Andrew. "Nopossum for you, and this is your hunt! I'm most awfully sorry!" "Don't you suppose they will save me one?" asked Caroline composedly, andas she spoke she walked to the edge of the bluff and looked down into thedark ravine interestedly. "You don't want the possum, child, you want to see it caught. The negroesget the little beasts; it's the bagging that's the excitement!" Andrewregarded her with amused interest. "I don't seem to care to see things caught, " she answered. "I'm alwayssorry for them. I would let them all go if I got the chance--all caughtthings. " A little crackle in the bushes at her side made her move nearerto him. "I believe you would--release any 'caught thing'--if you could, " he saidwith a note of bitterness in his voice that she failed to detect. A coldwind swept across the meadow and he swung around so his broad shouldersscreened her from its tingle. Her eyes gazed out over the valley at theirfeet. "This is the edge of the world, " she said softly. "Do you remember yourlittle verses about the death of the stars?" She turned and raised hereyes to his. "We are holding a death-watch beside them now as the mooncomes up over the ridge there. When I read the poem I felt breathless toget out somewhere high up and away from things--and watch. " "I was 'high up' when I wrote them, " answered Andrew with a laugh. "Lookover there on the hill--see those two old locusts? They are fern palmsand those scrub oaks are palmettos. The white frost makes the meadow alagoon and this rock is the pier of my bridge where I came out to watchone night to test the force of a freshet. Over there the light from Mrs. Matilda's fires is the construction camp and beyond that hill is mybungalow. That's the same old moon that's rising relentlessly to murderthe stars again. Do you want to stay and watch the tragedy--or hunt?" Without a word Caroline sank down on the dried leaves that lay in a drifton the edge of the bluff. Andrew crouched close beside her to thewindward. And the ruthless old moon that was putting the stars out ofbusiness by the second was not in the least abashed to find them gazingat her as she blustered up over the ridge, round and red with exertion. "Were you alone on that pier?" asked Caroline with the utmost naïveté, asshe snuggled down deeper into the collar of the sweater. "I'm generally alone--in most ways, " answered Andrew, the suspicion of alaugh covering the sadness in his tone. "I seem to see myself goingthrough life alone unless something happens--quick!" The bitter notesounded plainly this time and cut with an ache into her consciousness. "I've been a little lonely, too--always, until just lately and now Idon't feel that way at all;" she looked at him thoughtfully with moonliteyes that were deep like sapphires. "I wonder why?" Andrew Sevier's heart stopped dead still for a second and then began topound in his breast as if entrapped. For the moment his voice was utterlyuseless and he prayed helplessly for a meed of self-control that mightaid him to gain a sane footing. Then just at that moment the old genie of the forests, who gloats throughthe seasons over myriads of wooings that are carried on in the fastnessesof his green woods, sounded a long, low, guttural groan that rose to ablood-curdling shriek, from the branches just above the head of themoon-mad man and girl. For an instrument he used the throat of an enragedold hoot-owl, perturbed by the intrusion of the noise of the distant huntand the low-voiced conversation on his wonted privacy. And the experienced ancient succeeded in precipitating the crisis of thesituation with magical promptness, for Caroline sprang to her feet, turned with a shudder and buried her head in Andrew's hunting coatsomewhere near the left string for cartridge loops. She clung to him inabject terror. "Sweetheart!" he exclaimed, giving her a little shake, "it's only a crossold owl--don't be frightened, " and he raised her cheek against his ownand drew her nearer. But Caroline trembled and clung and seemed unable toface the situation. Andrew essayed further reassurance by turning hishead until his lips pressed a tentative kiss against the curve of herchin. "He can't get you, " he entreated and managed a still closer embrace. "Is he still there?" came in a muffled voice from against his neck whereCaroline had again buried her head at a slight crackling from the darkbranches overhead. "I think he is, bless him!" answered Andrew, and this time the kissmanaged a landing on the warm lips under the eyes raised to his. And then ensued several breathless moments while the world reeled aroundand the vital elemental force that is sometimes cruel, sometimes kind, turned the wheel of their universe. "I'm not frightened any more, " Caroline at last managed to say as sheprepared to withdraw, not too decisively, from her strong-armed refuge. "He's still there, " warned Andrew Sevier with a happy laugh, and Carolineyielded again for a second, then drew his arms aside. "Thank you--I'm not afraid any more--of anything, " she said, laughinginto his eyes, "and I really think we had better try to get back to campand supper, for I don't hear the dogs any longer. We don't want to belost like the 'babes in the woods' and left to die out here, do we?" "Are you sure we haven't gone and stumbled into heaven, anyway?" demandedAndrew. He then proceeded to roll the collar of her sweater higher about her earsand to pull the long sleeves down over her hands. He even bent to stretchthe garment an inch or two nearer the tops of her boots. "Are you cold?" he demanded anxiously, for a stiff wind had risen andblew upon them with icy breath. "Not a single bit, " she answered, submitting herself to his anxiousministrations with her most engaging six-going-on-seven manner. Then shecaught one of his fumbling hands in hers and pressed it to her cheek fora moment. "Now, " she said, "we can never be lonely any more, can we? I'm going torace you down the hill, across the meadow and over three fences tosupper!" And before he could stay her she had flitted through the bushesand was running on before him, slim and fleet. He caught her in time to swing her over the first fence and capture anelusive caress. The second barrier she vaulted and eluded him entirely, but from the top of the last she bent and gave him his kiss as he liftedher down. In another moment they had joined the circle around thecrackling fire, where they were greeted with the wildest hilarity andoverwhelmed with food and banter. "Did you people ever hear of the man who bought a fifty-dollar coon dog, took him out to hunt the first night, almost cried because he thought hehad lost him down a sink hole, hunted all night for him, came home in thedaylight and found pup asleep under the kitchen stove?" demanded David ashe filled two long glasses with a simmering decoction, from which arosethe aroma of baked apples, spices, and some of the major's eighty-sixcorn heart. "Caroline is my point to my little story. Have you two beensitting in Mrs. Matilda's car or mine, or did you roost for a time on thefence over there in the dark?" "Please, David, please hush and give me a bird and a biscuit--I'mhungry, " answered Caroline as she sank on a cushion beside Mrs. Buchanan. "According to the ink slingers of all times you ought not to be; but Andyhas already got outside of two sandwiches, so I suppose you are due onesmall bird. That cake is grand, beautiful. I've put it away to eat all bymyself to-morrow. Andrew Sevier doesn't need any. He wouldn't know cakefrom corn-pone--he's moonstruck. " Just at this point a well-aimed pine-cone glanced off David's collar andhe settled down to the business in hand, which was the disposal of abursting and perfectly hot potato, handed fresh from the coals by theattentive Jeff. And it was more than an hour later that the tired hunters wended theirway back to the city. Polly was so sleepy that she could hardly sit herhorse and was in a subdued and utterly fascinating mood, with which shedid an irreparable amount of damage to the stranger within her gatesas she rode along the moonlit pike, and for which she had later to makeanswer. The woman's champion dozed in the tonneau and only David had thespirit to sing as they whirled along. Hadn't Phoebe stirred the sugar into his cup of coffee and then in anabsolutely absent-minded manner tasted it before she had come around thefire to hand it to him? It had been a standing argument between them foryears as to a man's right to this small attention, which they both teasedMrs. Matilda for bestowing upon the major. It was an insignificant, inconsequent little ceremony in itself but it fired a train in David'smind, made for healing the wound in his heart and brought itsconsequences. Another reconstruction campaign began to shape its policyin the mind of David Kildare which had to do with the molding of thedestiny of the high-headed young woman of his affections, rather thanwith the amelioration of conditions in his native city. So, high andclear he sang the call of the mocking-bird with its ecstasies and itsminors. But late as it was, after he had landed his guests at their doors, he hada long talk over the phone with the clerk of his headquarters and sent ahalf-dozen telegrams before he turned into his room. When he switched onhis lights he saw that Andrew stood by the window looking out into thenight. His face was so drawn and white as he turned that David startedand reached out to lay a hand on his shoulder. "Dave, " he said, "I'm a blackguard and a coward--don't touch me!" "What is it, Andrew?" asked David as he laid his arm across the tenseshoulders. "I thought I was strong and dared to stay--now I know I'm a coward andcouldn't go. I'll have to sneak away and leave her--hurt!" His voice waslow and toned with an unspeakable scorn of himself. "Andy, " asked David, as he swung him around to face him, "was CarolineDarrah too much for you--and the moon?" "There's nothing to say about it, David, nothing! I have only made ithard for her: and killed myself for myself forever. She's a child andshe'll forget. You'll see to her, won't you?" "What are you going to do now?" asked David sternly. "Cut and run--cowards always do, " answered Andrew bitterly. "I am goingto stay and see you through this election, for it's too late to turn thepress matters over to any one else--and I'm going to pray to find someway to make it easier for her before I leave her. I'm afraid some dayshe'll find out--and not understand why I went. " "Why do you go, Andrew?" asked David as he faced this friend withcompelling eyes. "If it's pride that takes you, better give it up! It'sdeadly for you both, for she's more of a woman than you think--she'llsuffer. " "David, do you think she would have me if she knew what I put asideto take her--_and his millions_? Could Peters Brown's heiress everhave anything but contempt for me? When it comes to her she mustunderstand--and not think I held it against her!" "Tell her, Andrew; let her decide! It's her right now!" "Never, " answered Andrew passionately. "She is just beginning to losesome of her sensitiveness among us and this is the worst of all thethings she has felt were between her and her people. It is the only thinghe covered and hid from her. I'll _never_ tell her--I'll go--and shewill forget!" In his voice there was the note of finality that isunmistakable from man to man. He turned toward his room as he finishedspeaking. "Then, boy, " said David as he held him back for a second in the bend ofhis arm, a tenderness in voice and clasp, "go if you must; but we'vethree days yet. The gods can get mighty busy in that many hours if theypull on a woman's side--which they always do. Good night!" CHAPTER X LOVE'S HOME AND ANDREW SEVIER And the Sabbath quiet which had descended on the frost-jeweled citythe morning after the hunt found the Buchanan household still deep inclose-shuttered sleep. Their fatigue demanded and was having its way inthe processes of recuperation and they all slept on serenely. Only Caroline Darrah was astir with the first deep notes of the earlymorning bells. Her awaking had come with a rush of pure, bubbling, unalloyed joy which turned her cheeks the hue of the rose, starred hereyes and melted her lips into heavenly curves. In her exquisite innocenceit never dawned upon her that the moments spent in Andrew's arms underthe winter moon were any but those of rapturous betrothal and her lovehad flowered in confident happiness. It was well that she caught acrossthe distance no hint of the battle that was being waged in the heart ofAndrew Sevier, for the man in him fought (for her) with what he deemedhis honor, almost to the death--but not quite, for some men hold as honorthat which is strong sinewed with self-control, red blooded with courage, infiltrated with pride and ruthlessly cruel. And so Caroline hummed David's little serenade to herself as she dressedwithout Annette's assistance and smiled at her own radiance reflected ather from her mirrors. She had just completed a most ravishing churchtoilet when she heard the major's door close softly and she knew that nowshe would find him before his logs awaiting breakfast. She blushed another tone more rosy and her eyes grew shy at the verythought of meeting his keen eyes that always quizzed her with suchdelight after one of her initiations into the sports or gaieties of thisnew country. But assuming her courage with her prayer-book, she softlydescended the stairs, crossed the hall and stood beside his chair with alaugh of greeting. "Well, " he demanded delightedly though in a guarded tone with a glanceup as if at Mrs. Matilda's and Phoebe's closed doors, "did you catch yourpossum?" "Yes--that is--no! I didn't, but somebody did I think, " she answered withdelicious confusion in both tone and appearance. "Caroline Darrah, " demanded the major, "do you mean to tell me that thereis no certainty of anybody's having got a result from a foray of themagnitude of that last night? Didn't you even see a possum?" "No, I didn't; but I know they caught some--David said so, " answeredCaroline in a reassuring voice. "Caroline, " again demanded the major relentlessly, having already had hissuspicions aroused by her confusion and blushes, "where were you whenDavid Kildare caught those beasts that you didn't see one?" "I was--was lost, " she answered, and it surprised him that she didn't putone rosy finger-tip into her mouth, so very young was her furtherconfusion. "Alone?" The major made his demand without mercy. "No, sir, with Mr. Sevier--why, aren't you going to have breakfast, Major, it is almost church time?" and Caroline rallied her domesticdignity to her support as she escaped toward Temple's domain. And the flush of joy that had flamed in her cheeks had lighted a glow inthe major's weather-tanned old face and his eyes fairly snapped withlight. Could it be that the boy had reached out for his atonement? Couldit be--he heard the front door close as the first church bell struck adeep note and at that moment Jeff announced his breakfast as ready in avoice of the deepest exhaustion. And when Caroline emerged from the still darkened house into the crispair she found Andrew Sevier standing on the front steps waiting to walkinto church with her. Her smile of shy joy as she held out her hand to him warmed his sombereyes for the moment. "They are all asleep, " she whispered as if even from the street there wasdanger of awakening the tired hunting party. "The major is keeping itquiet for them. " "And you ought to be asleep, too, " he answered as they started off at abrisk pace down the avenue. "_You_ weren't, " she laughed up at him, and then dropped her eyes shyly. "I always go to church, " she added demurely. "And I suppose I counted on your habit, " he said, utterly unable tocontrol the tenderness in voice or glance. "I wanted you to go with me to-day--I hoped you would though you neverhave, " she answered him with a divine seriousness in her lifted eyes. "They are all coming to dinner and then you'll go to the office, so Ihoped about this morning. " She was utterly lovely in her gentlenessand a strange peace fell into the troubled heart of the man at her side. And it followed him into the dim church and made the hour he sat at herside one of holy healing. Once as they knelt together during the serviceshe slipped her gloved hand into his for an instant and from its warmththere flowed a strength of which he stood in dire need and from which hedrew courage to go on for the few days remaining before his exile. Justto protect her, he prayed, and leave her unhurt, and he failed to seethat the humility and blindness of a great love were leading him into theperpetration of a great cruelty, to the undoing of them both. Then in the long days that followed so hunted was he by his love of herthat that one hour of peace in the Sunday morning was all he dared givehimself with her. And in her gentle trustfulness it was not hard to makehis excuses, for the Monday morning brought the strenuosity inthe career of David Kildare to a state of absolute acuteness. To the candidate the three days were as ten years crowded into as manyhours. Down at his headquarters in the _Gray Picket_ rooms he stood firmand met wave after wave of fluctuating excitement that surged around himwith his head up, a ring in his laugh and an almost superhuman tact. As late as Wednesday noon there appeared before him three excitedAnti-Saloon League matrons with plans to put committees of ladies at allthe polls to hand out lemonade and entreaties--perhaps threats--to thevoters as they exercised their civic function. They had planned bannerswith "Shall The Saloon Have My Boy?" in large letters thereon inscribedand they were morally certain that without the carrying out of their planthe day would be lost. It took David Kildare one hour and a quarter topersuade them that it would be better to have a temperance rally at thetheater on Wednesday night at which each of the three should make mostconvincing speeches to the assembled women of the city, therebyfurnishing arguments to their sisters with which to start the men to thepolls next day. He promised to come and make a short opening speech and they left himwith their plans changed but their enthusiasm augmented. David sank intoa chair and mopped his shining brow. The major had been witness to theencounter from the editorial desk and Cap Cantrell was bent double withlaughter behind a pile of papers he was searching for data for Andrew. "I'm all in, Major, " said David faintly. "Just pick up the pieces in abasket. " "David, sir, " said the major, "your conduct of that onslaught wasmasterly! If the hand that rocks the cradle rules the world why not thehand that flips the batter-cake rock the ballot-box--cradle out of date?That's a little mixed but pertinent. I'm for letting them have thetry. They're only crying because they think we don't want 'em to haveit--maybe they'll go back to the cradle and rock all the better for beingfree citizens!" "And not a cussed one of those three old lady cats has ever shown akitten!" exploded Cap from behind his pile of papers. "Anyway, the worst is over now--must be!" answered David as he began toread over some bulletins and telegrams. But he had troubles yet to come. In the next two hours he had a conference with the head of the chamber ofcommerce which heated his blood to the boiling-point and brought forth anultimatum, delivered in no uncertain terms but with such perfect courtesyand clean-sightedness that the gentleman departed in haste to look intocertain matters which he now suspected to have been cooked to lead himastray. This event had been followed by the advent of five of the old fellows whohad obtained furloughs and ridden in from the Soldiers' Home for theexpress purpose of assuring him of their support, as the vindicator oftheir honor, wringing his hand and cheering on the fight. They retiredwith Cap into the back room and emerged shortly, beaming and refreshed. They had no votes to cast in the city, but what matter? On their heels, Mike O'Rourke rushed in with two budgets of falseregistrations which he had been able to ferret out by the aid of thedrivers of his grocery wagons. He embraced David, exchanged shots withthe major, and departed in high spirits. Then quiet came to the _GrayPicket_ for a time and Kildare plunged into his papers with desperation. "David, " called the major after a very few minutes of peace, "here's acall for you on the desk. You'll recognize the number--remember, a firmhand, sir--a firm hand!" with which he collected his hat, coat, and thecaptain and took his departure, leaving David for the moment alone in theeditorial rooms. He sat for a few moments before the receiver and twisted the call sliparound one of his fingers. In a moment the affairs of state and thedestiny of the city slipped from his shoulders and his mind took up thedetails of another problem. The contest for the judgeship was not the only one David Kildare hadtaken upon himself--the second was being waged in the secret chambers oftwo hearts, one proud, exacting and unconvinced, the other determined andat last thoroughly aroused. Phoebe had brought the crisis on herself andshe was beginning to realize that the duel would be to the death orcomplete surrender. And in the preliminaries, which had been begun on the Saturday night huntand carried on for the last three days, David Kildare had failed to makea single false move. His natural and inevitable absorption in his racefor the judgeship had served to keep him from forcing a single issue; andPhoebe had had time to do a little lonely, unpursued thinking. He had been entirely too clever to arouse her pride against him by asuspicion of neglect in his attitude. His usual attentions were alloffered and a new one or two contrived. He sent Eph to report to her withhis electric every afternoon--she understood that he was unable by theexigencies of the case to come himself to take her to keep herappointments as was his custom. Her flowers were just as thoughtfullyselected and sent with the gayest little notes, as like as possible tothe ones that had been coming to her for years. He ordered in anunusually large basket of eggs from the farm and managed to find acomplicated arrangement of rope and pulleys, the manipulation of whichfor an hour or more daily was warranted to add to or detract from thestature of man or woman, according to the desire of the dissatisfiedindividual. His note with the instrument was a scintillating skit and wasanswered in kind. But through it all Phoebe was undoubtedly lonely. Thiscall, the second since Saturday and the second in the history of theirjoint existences, betrayed her to the now wily David more than sherealized--perhaps! He took down the receiver and got the connection. "That you--dear?" David managed a casual voice with difficulty. "Yes, David, " came in a voice that fairly radiated across the city. "Ionly wanted to ask how it goes. " "Fine--with a rip! But you never can tell--about anything. I'm aPresbyterian and I'll die in doubt of my election. I'm learning not tocount on--things. " His voice carried a mournful note that utterly beliedhis radiant face. David was enjoying himself to almost the mortal limit! "David, " there was a perceptible pause--"you--there is one thing you canalways count on--isn't there--_me_?" The voice was very gallant but alsoslightly palpitating. David almost lost his head but hung on tight andcame up right side. "Some, " he answered, which reply, in the light of an extremely modern useof the word combined with the legitimate, was calculated to bringconclusion. Then he hurried another offering on to the wire. "How long are you going to be at home?" he asked--another dastardlytantalization. "I--I don't know exactly, " she parried quickly. "Why?" and this fromPhoebe who had always granted interviews like a queen gives jewels! Davidsomewhere found the courage to lay a firm hand on himself. With just afew more blows the citadel was his! His own heart writhed and theuncertainty made him quake internally. "I wish I could come over, but there are two committees waiting in theother room for me. Do you--" a clash and buzz hummed over the wire intothe receiver. There was a jangle and tangle and a rough man's voice cutin with, "Working on the wires, hang up, please, " and David limply hungup the receiver and collapsed in solitude, for his committees had beenevoked out of thin air. His state of mind was positively abject. His years-old tenderness welledup in his heart and flooded to his eyes--the dash and the pluck of her!He reached for his hat, then hesitated; it was election eve and in twohours he was due to address the congregation of griddle-cake discontentson how to make men vote like ladies. A call boy hurried in by way of a fortunate distraction and handed in abudget of papers. David spread them out before him. They were from SusieCarrie of the strong brush and the Civic Improvement League, containingSketches and specifications for the drinking fountains already pledged, and a request for an early institution of legislation on the play-groundproposition. Such a small thing as an uncertain election failed todaunt the artistic fervor of Susie Carrie's fertile brain or to deter herfrom making demands, however premature, on David the sympathetic. And David Kildare dropped his head on the papers and groaned. TheVision of a life-work rose up and menaced him and the words "sweat of hisbrow" for the first time took on a concrete meaning. Such a good, old, care-free existence he was losing, and--he seized his hat and fledto the refreshment of bath, food and fresh raiment. And on his way home he stopped in for a word with the major, whom hefound tired and on his way to take as much as he could of his usual nap. He was seated in his chair by the table and Caroline Darrah sat near him, listening eagerly to his story of some of the events in the day'scampaign. She rose as David entered and held out her hand to him with asmile. Every time David had looked at Caroline Darrah for the few days past asharp pain had cut into his heart and this afternoon she was so radiantlylovely with sympathy and interest that for a moment he stood looking ather with his eyes full of tenderness. Then he managed a bantering smileand backed away a step or two from her, his hands behind him. "No, you don't, beautiful, " David sometimes ventured on Phoebe's name forthe girl, "you are so sweet in that frock that I'm afraid if I touch youI'll stick. Somebody ought to label such a lollypop as you dangerous. Call her off, Major!" The major laughed at Caroline's blush and laid his fingers over her handthat rested on the corner of the table near him. "David, " he said, "girls are confections to which it is good for a man toforsake all others and cling--but not to gobble. Matilda, recount toDavid Kildare your plans for the night of the election. I wish to witnesshis joy. " "Oh, yes, I've been wanting to tell you about it for two days, David, dear, " answered Mrs. Buchanan from her chair over by the window where shewas busily engaged in checking names off a long list with a pencil. "Weare going to have a reception at the University Club so everybody cancome and congratulate you the night of the election. Mrs. Shelby and Ithought it up and of course we had to speak to one of the house committeeabout the arrangements, and who do you think the member was--Billy Bob! Ijust talked on and didn't notice Mrs. Shelby and finally he was so niceand deferential to her that she talked some, too. She almost started toshake hands with him when we left. I was so glad. I feel that it isgoing to be a delightful success in every way. Please be thinking up anice speech to make. " "Oh, wait, " groaned David Kildare, "if I begin now I will have to thinkdouble, one for election and one for defeat. Last night I dreamed about ablack cat that was minus a left eye and limped in the right hind leg. Jeff almost cried when I told him about it. He hasn't smiled since. " "I told Tempie to put less pepper in those chicken croquettes lastnight--I saw Phoebe's light burning until two o'clock and heard her andCaroline laughing and talking even after that. The major was so nervousthat he was up and dressed at six o'clock. I must see that all of you getsimpler food--your nerves will suffer. Major, suppose you don't eatmuch dinner--just have a little milk toast. I'll see Tempie about itnow!" and Mrs. Buchanan departed after bestowing a glance, in which was aconviction of dyspepsia, upon all three of them. "Now, David Kildare, see what you've done with your black-cat crawlings!I'll have to eat that toast--see if I don't! I've consumed it with asmile during stated periods for thirty years. Yes, girl-love is a kindof cup-custard, but wife-love is bread and butter--milk toast, forinstance--bless her! But I am hungry!" The major's expression was atragedy. "I'm going to try and beg you off, Major, dear, " said Caroline Darrah, and she hurried after Mrs. Matilda into Tempie's domain. "Major, " said David as he gazed after the girl, "when I look at her Ifeel cold all over, then hot-mad! He's going to-morrow night on themidnight train--and she doesn't know! I can't even talk to himabout it--he looks like a dead man and works like a demon. I don't knowwhat to do!" "David, " said the major slowly as he pressed the tips of his long leanfingers together and regarded them intently, "how love, tender wise love, love that is fed on heart's blood and lives by soul-breath, can go deaf, blind, dumb, halt, broken-winged, idiotic and mortally cruel is more thanI can see. God Almighty comfort him when he finds what he has done!" "And if she does find it out she won't understand, " exclaimed David. "No, " answered the major, "she doesn't even suspect anything. She thinksit is the press of his work that keeps him away from her. The childcarries about with her that aura of transport that only an acknowledgmentfrom a lover can give a woman. I had hoped that he had seen some way--Icouldn't ask! I wonder--" "Yes, Major, " interrupted David quickly, and he winced as he spoke, "ithappened on the hunt Saturday evening. They climbed the bluff and watchedthe hunt from a distance and I saw how it was the minute they came backto the campfire. I saw it and I was just jolly happy over it even to thetune of Phoebe's sulks--I thought it was all right, and I wish you couldhave seen him. His head was up and his eyes danced and he gave up almostthe first real laugh I ever heard from him, when I teased her aboutgetting lost. As I looked at him I thought about the other, your gladAndrew, Major, and I was happy all in a shot for you, because I thoughtyou were going to get back something of what you'd lost. It all seemedso good!" "There's been joy in the boy's eyes, joy and sorrow waging a war forweeks, David, and I've had to sit by and watch, powerless to help him. Yes, his very father himself has looked out of his eyes at me for momentsand I--well I had hoped. Are you sure he is going?" As the major askedthe question his brows knotted themselves together as if to hide the painin his eyes. "Yes, he's going and he catches the next tramp steamer for Panama fromSavannah. I wish she would suspect something and force it from him. It'sstrange she doesn't, " answered David despondently. "Caroline Darrah belongs to the order of humble women whose love feeds ona glance and can be sustained on a crumb--another class demands a banquetfull spread and always ready. You'll be careful, boy, don't--don't dietPhoebe too long!" The major eyed David anxiously across the light. "Heavens, I'm your reconcentrado! Major, I feel as if I'd been shut updown cellar in the cold without the breath of life for a year. It's onlythree days and thirteen hours and a half; but I'm all in. I go deadwithout her--believe I'll telephone her now!" And David reached forthe receiver that stood on the major's table. "Now, David, " said the major, restraining his eager hand and smilingthrough his sadness, "don't try to gather your grapes over the phone! Ijudge they are ripe, but they still hang high--they always will! Look atthe clock!" David took one look at the staid old mahogany timepiece, which the majorhad had brought in from Seven Oaks and placed in the corner opposite histable, and took his departure. And after he had gone the major retired to his room to lie down for asmuch of his allotted rest as he could obtain. Seeing him safely settled, Mrs. Buchanan went over for a short visit with Mrs. Shelby next door. Mrs. Matilda stuck to the irate grandmother through thick and thin and inher affectionate heart she had hopes of bringing about the much to bedesired reconciliation. She was the only person in the city who daredmention Milly or the babies to the old lady and even in herunsophistication she suspected that the details she supplied withdetermined intrepidity fed a hunger in the lonely old heart. Herpilgrimage next door was a daily one and never neglected. Thus left alone Caroline Darrah was partaking of a solitary cup of tea, which was being served her by Tempie in all the gorgeousness of a newwhite lace-trimmed and beruffled apron which Caroline had made for heras near as possible like the dainty garments affected by the Frenchshop-clad Annette, who was Temple's special ally and admirer, when Mrs. Cherry Lawrence, in full regalia, descended upon her. Tempie walled herblack eyes and departed with dignity for an extra cup. The major was fast asleep, David Kildare in the processes of bath andtoilet, Phoebe at her desk down-town and Mrs. Matilda away on hermission, and thus it happened that nobody was near to fend the blightfrom the flower of their anxious cherishing. "Yes, indeed, it is a time of anxiety, " Mrs. Cherry agreed with Carolineas she crushed the lemon in her tea. "I shall be glad when it is over. Ifeel that we all are making the utmost sacrifices for this electionof David Kildare's, and he's such a boy that he probably will make aperfectly impossible judge. He never takes anything seriously enough toaccomplish much. It's well for him that no one expects anything fromhim. " "Oh, but I'm sure he's taking this seriously, " exclaimed Caroline Darrahwith a little gleam of dismay in her eyes. "His race has been anexceptional one whether he wins or not. The major says so and theother day Mr. Sevier told me--" At the mention of Andrew Sevier's nameMrs. Cherry glanced around and an ugly little gleam came into her eyes. "Oh, of course Andrew Sevier is too loyal to admit any criticism of Davidto a _stranger_, " she said with a slight emphasis on the word and a coldglance at Caroline Darrah. "But he wasn't talking to a stranger, he was talking just to me, " saidCaroline quickly, not even seeing the dart aimed. "You are so sweet, dear!" purred Mrs. Cherry. "Under the circumstances itis so gracious of you not to feel yourself a stranger with us all andespecially with Andrew Sevier. Of course it would have been impossiblefor him always to have avoided you and it was just like his generosity--" "Miss Ca'line, honey, " came in a decided voice from the doorway, "thatcustard you is a-making for the major's supper is actin' curisome aroundthe aiges. Please, ma'am, come and see ter it a minute!" "Oh, excuse me just a second, " exclaimed Caroline Darrah to Mrs. Cherryas she rose with alarm in her housewifely heart and hurried past Tempiedown the hall. An instinct engendered by her love for Caroline Darrah had led Tempie tonotice and resent something in Mrs. Lawrence's manner to the child onseveral previous occasions and to-day she had felt no scruples aboutremaining behind the curtains well within ear-shot of the conversations. Her knowledge of, and participation in, the Buchanan family affairs, pastand present and future, was an inheritance of several generations and shenever hesitated to assert her privileges. "Lady, " she said in a cool soft voice as she squared herself in thedoorway and looked Mrs. Lawrence directly in the face, "you is a richwhite woman and I's a poor nigger, but ef you had er secceeded ina-putting that thare devil's tale into my young mistess's head they woulder been that 'twixt you and me that we never would er forgot; and therewouldn't a-been more'n a rag left of that dead-husband-bought frock whatyou've got on. Now 'fore I fergits myself I axes you out the frontdoor--and I'm a-fergittin' fast. " And as she faced the domineering woman in her trappings of fashion allthe humble blood in the negro's veins, which had come down to her fromthe forewomen who had cradled on their black breasts the mothers of suchas Caroline Darrah, was turned into the jungle passion for defense ofthis slight white thing that was the child of her heart if not of herbody. The danger of it made Mrs. Lawrence fairly quail, and, white withfright, she gathered her rich furs about her and fled just as CarolineDarrah's returning footsteps were heard in the hall. "Why, where did Mrs. Lawrence go, Tempie?" she demanded in astonishment. Tempie had just the moment in which to rally herself but she hadaccomplished the feat, though her eyes still rolled ominously. "She 'membered something what she forgot and had ter hurry. She lef'scuses fer you, " and Tempie busied herself with the cups and tray. "She was beginning to say something queer to me, Tempie, when you camein. It was about Mr. Sevier and I didn't understand. I almost felt thatshe was being disagreeable to me and it frightened me--about him. I--" "Law, I spects you is mistook, chile, an' if it war anything she jestwants him herself and was a-laying out ter tell you some enflirtment shehad been a-trying ter have with him. Don't pay no 'tention to it. " Bythis time she had regained her composure and was able to reassureCaroline with her usual positiveness to which she added an amount ofworldly tact in substituting a highly disturbing thought in place of thedangerous one. "Do you really think she can be in love with--with him, Tempie?" demandedCaroline Darrah, wide-eyed with astonishment. She was entirely divertedfrom any desire to follow out or weigh Mrs. Lawrence's remark to her bythe wiliness of the experienced Tempie. "They ain't no telling what widder women out fer number twos _will_ do, "answered Tempie sagely. "Now, you run and let Miss Annette put that bluefrock on you 'fore dinner. In times of disturbance like these here womenoughter fix theyselves up so as ter 'tice the men ter eat a little atmeal times. Ain't I done put on this white apron ter try and git that no'count Jefferson jest ter take notice a little uv his vittals. Now go on, honey--it's late. " And thus the love of the old negro had taken away the only chance givenCaroline Darrah to learn the facts of the grim story, from the knowledgeof which she might have worked out salvation for her lover and herself. An hour later as they were being served the soup by the absorbed andinattentive Jeff, Mrs. Matilda laid down her spoon and said to Carolineanxiously: "I wish Phoebe had come out to-night. I asked her but she said she wastoo busy. She looked tired. Do you suppose she could be ill?" "Yes, " answered the major dryly, "I feel sure that Phoebe is ill. She isat present, I should judge, suffering with a malady which she has had forsome time but which is about to reach the acute stage. It needs judiciousignoring so let's not mention it to her for the present. " "I understand what you mean, Major, " answered his wife with delightedeyes, "and I won't say a word about it. It will be such a help to Davidto have a wife when he is the judge. How long will it be before he can bethe governor, dear?" "That depends on the wife, Mrs. Buchanan, to a large extent, " answeredthe major with a delighted smile. "Oh, Phoebe will want him to do things, " said Mrs. Matilda positively. "No doubt of that, " the major replied. "I see David Kildare slated forthe full life from now on--eh, Caroline?" And the major had judged Phoebe's situation perhaps more rightly than herealized, for while David led the vote-directors' rally at the theaterand later was closeted with Andrew for hours over the last editorialappeal in the morning _Journal_, Phoebe sat before her desk in her ownlittle down-town home. Mammy Kitty was snoring away like a peacefulwatch-dog on her cot in the dressing-room and the whole apartment wasdark save for the shaded desk-light. The time and place were fitting and Phoebe was summoning her visions--andfacing her realities. Down the years came sauntering the nonchalantfigure of David Kildare. He had asked her to marry him that awful, lonely, sixteenth birthday and he had asked her the same thing everyyear of all the succeeding ten--and a number of times in between. Phoebesquared herself to her reviewing self and admitted that she had cared forhim then and ever since--_cared_ for him, but had starved his tendernessand in the lover had left unsought the man. But she was clear-sightedenough to know that the handsome easy-going boy, who had wooed with asmile and taken rebuff with a laugh, was not the steady-eyed forceful manwho now faced her. He stood at the door of a life that stretched awayinto long vistas, and now he would demand. Phoebe bowed her head on herhands--suppose he should not demand! And so in the watches of the night the siege was raised and Phoebe, thedauntless, brilliant, arrogant Phoebe had capitulated. No love-lorn womanof the ages ever palpitated more thoroughly at the thought of her loverthan did she as she kept vigil with David across the city. But there were articles of capitulation yet to be signed and the ceremonyof surrender to come. CHAPTER XI ACROSS THE MANY WATERS And the day of the election arrived next morning and brought cold cloudsshot through with occasional gleams of pale sunshine, only to be followedby light but threatening flurries of snow. All through the Sunday night David had sat over in the editorial rooms ofthe _Journal_ beside Andrew Sevier, talking, writing and sometimes silentwith unexpressed sympathy, for as the last sheets of his editorial workslipped through his fingers Andrew grew white and austere. Once for ahalf-hour they talked about his business affairs and he turned over abundle of papers to David and discussed the investment of the money thathad come from his heavy royalties for the play now running, and thethousands paid in advance for the new drama. As David ran carefully through them to see that they were in order forhim to handle, Andrew turned to his desk and wrote rapidly for someminutes, then sealed a letter and laid it aside. After he had read thelast batch of proof from the composing-room he turned to David andwith a quiet look handed him the letter which was directed to CarolineDarrah. "If she ever finds out give her this letter, please. It will make herunderstand why I go, I hope. I can't talk to you about it but I wantto ask you, man to man, to look after her. Dave, I leave her to yourcare--and Phoebe's. " And his rich voice was composed into an uttersadness. "The work here and the night are both over, let's go down toheadquarters, " he added, and like two boys, with hands tight gripped, they passed out into the winter street. Down at the _Gray Picket_ they found some of David's ardent supportersstill fresh and enthusiastic though they had been making a night of it. Soon waves of excitement were rising and falling all over the city andthe streets were thronged with men from out through the county. At an early hour heavy wagons moved with the measured tread of blindtigers and deposited blind tiger kittens, done up in innocent anddeceptive looking crates, at numbers of discreet alley covers nearthe polls. At the machine headquarters rotund and blooming gentlemengrouped and dissolved and grouped again, during which process wads ofgreenbacks unrolled and flashed with insolent carelessness. The situationwas and had been desperate and this last stand must be brought throughfor the whisky interest, come high as it would. And so through the morning, delegations kept dropping in to David'sheadquarters to keep up the spirits of the candidate and incidentally tohave their own raised. There were ugly rumors coming from the polls. Thepolice were machine instruments and the back door of every saloon in thecity was wide open, while a repeating vote was plainly indicated bycrowds of floaters who drifted from ward to ward. The faces of the bosseswere discreetly radiant. "Lord, David, " groaned Cap Cantrell, "they're turning loose kegs ofboodle and barrels of booze--we'll never beat 'em in the world! They'vegot this city tied up and thrown to the dogs! What's the use of--" "David, " exclaimed the major excitedly, "we're in for a rally, and lookat them!" Down the street they came, the news kiddies, a hundred strong, led byPhoebe's freckle-faced red-headed devil whose mouth stretched from ear toear with a grin. They carried huge poster banners and their inscriptionswere in a language of their own, emblazoned in ink-pot script. "I LOVE MY DAVE--BUT JUMP!" meant much to them but failed to elucidatethe fact that they were referring to the gift of a flatboat, canvased fora swimming booth which David had had moored at the foot of the bridgeduring the dog days of the previous summer so that they might have ajoyous dip in the river between editions. He had gone down himselfoccasionally for a frolic with them and "Jump!" had been the signalfor the push-off of any timid diver. He shouted with glee when he read the skit--he was taking his high divein life. "RUN, DAVE, RUN--TIGER'S LOOSE--NIT!" was another witticism and a crookedpole bore aloft these words, "JUDGE DAVID KILDARE SOAKS OLD BOOZE THEFIRST ROUND!" They lined up in front of the headquarters and gave a shrill cheer thatmade up in enthusiasm for what it lacked in volume. They took a few wordsof banter from the candidate in lieu of a speech and paraded off aroundthe city, spending much time in front of the camp of the opposition andindulging in as much of derisive vituperation as they dared. They were followed by another picturesque visitation. A dignified oldcolored man brought twenty pathetic little pickaninnies from the orphans'home, to which, the men at headquarters learned for the first time, DavidKildare had given the modest building that sheltered the waifs. Decidedly, murder will out, and there come times when the left and righthands of a man are forced into confession to each other about their mostsecret actions. A political campaign is apt to bring such a situationinto the lives of the aspiring candidates. The little coons set up amusical wail that passed for a cheer and marched away munching thecontents of a huge box of candy that Polly had sent down to headquartersthe night before, such being her idea of a flagon with which to stay thecourage of the contestants. And through it all, the consultation of the leaders, the falling hopes ofthe poll scouts, the gradual depression that crept over the spirits ofthe major and Cap and the rest of his near supports, David was a solidtower of strength. Then during the day the tension became tight and tighter, for how thefight was going exactly no one could tell and it seemed well-nighimpossible to stop the vote steal that was going on all over the city, protected by the organized government. Defeat seemed inevitable. So at six o'clock the disgusted Cap picked up his hat and started homeand to the astonishment of the whole headquarters David Kildare calmlyrose and followed him without a word to the others, who failed to realizethat he had deserted until he was entirely gone. Billy Bob looked dashedwith amazement, Hobson sat down limply in the deserted chair, Tomwhistled--but the major looked at them with a quizzical smile which wasfor a second reflected in Andrew Sevier's face. Phoebe sat in Milly's little nursery in the failing winter light whichwas augmented by the glow from the fire of coals. Little Billy Bob stood at her side within the circle of her arm, his headagainst her shoulder and his eyes wide with a delicious horror as hegazed upon a calico book whose pages were brilliant with the tragedyof the three bears, which she was reading very slowly and with manyexplanatory annotations. Crimie balanced himself against her knee andbeat with a spoon against the back of the book and whooped up thesituation in every bubbly way possible to his lack of classifiedvocabulary. Milly and Mammy Betty were absorbed in the domestic regionsso Phoebe had them all to herself--all four, for the twins lay cuddledasleep in their crib near by. And though Phoebe had herself well in hand, her mind would wanderoccasionally from the history of the bruins to which Mistake patientlyrecalled her by a clamor for, "More, Phoebe, more. " In a hurried response to one of his goads she failed to hear a step inthe hall for which she had been telling herself that she had not beenlistening for two hours or more, and David Kildare stood in the doorway, the firelight full on his face. It was not a triumphant David with his judiciary honors full upon him andgubernational, senatorial, ambassadorial and presidential astral shapesmanifesting themselves in dim perspective; it was just old whimsicalDavid, tender of smile and loving though bantering of eye, albeit asomewhat pale and exhausted edition. "Phoebe, " he said with a low laugh, "nobody wants Dave--for anything!" And it was then that the fire that had been lighted in the heart ofPhoebe in her night watch blazed up into her face as she held out herarms to him! And in the twinkle of a fire-spark David found himself onhis knees, with Phoebe, the low chintz-covered chair and the two kiddiesclasped to his heart. For a glorious moment he held them all close and his head rested onPhoebe's shoulder just opposite that of Mistake, while Crimie squirmedbetween them. Then he discovered that he was gazing under her chin intothe wide-open, slightly resentful orbs of Big Brother, who eyed him amoment askance, then, feeling it time to assert himself, reached up andlanded a plainly proprietary and challenging kiss against the corner ofhis lady's mouth. David laughed delightedly and embraced the trio with greater force as hesaid propitiatingly, "Good snugglings, isn't it, old man?" But at this exact moment Crimie took the situation into his own hands, slipped his cable, grabbed the book as he went and rolled over a coupleof yards with a delighted giggle. Billy Bob, seeing his treasurecaptured, instantly followed and there forthwith ensued a tussle that wasthe height of delight to the two good-natured youngsters. And Phoebe's arms closed around David more closely as she held himembraced against her shoulder, her soft cheek on his. "Dave, " she whispered, "you know I really don't care at all, don't you?" "What?" demanded David with alarm in his voice as he raised his head andlooked at her in consternation. "The election makes no--" "Oh, _that_--I'd forgotten all about it! Don't scare me like that anymore, peach-bud, please, " he besought and he took her chin in the hollowof his hand as she leant to him, her eyes looking into his, level andconfident but glorious with bestowal. For a long minute he gazed straightinto their dawn-gray depths then he said gently, the caress suspended: "Woman, if you are ever going to take any of this back, do it now!" "Never, " she answered and clasped her hands against his breast. "It's still the loafer out of a job--just Dave-do-nothing, " he insisted, a new dignity in his voice that stirred her pride. "Please!" she closed her eyes as she entreated. "It's for a long time--_always_. " His voice was heaven-sweet with itsnote of warning and he laid his other strong warm hand on her throatwhere a controlled sob made it pulse. "I'm being very patient, " she whispered and her lips quivered with asmile as two tears jeweled her black lashes. But David had made his last stand--he folded her in, locked his heart andthrew away the key. "Love, " he whispered after a long time, "I know this is just adream--I've had 'em for ten years--but don't let anybody wake me!" To which plea Phoebe was making the tenderest of responses, when the doorburst open and Billy Bob shot into the room. "Hip! hip!" he yelled at the top of his voice, "six hundred and tenplurality and all from the two coon wards--count all in and verified--nodifference now how the others go and--" He paused and the situationdawned upon him all in a heap as Phoebe hid her head against David'scollar. "Davie, " he remarked in subdued tones, "you're 'lected, but Idon't s'pose you care!" "Go away, Billy Bob, don't you see I'm busy?" answered David as he roseto his feet, keeping Phoebe still embraced as she stood beside him. "Jerusalem the Golden! Have you cornered heaven, David?" gasped Billy Bobagain rising to the surface. "Help, somebody, help!" At which exactminute Mistake succeeded in dispossessing Crimie of the last tatters ofthe adventures of the bears and thus bringing down upon them all a tumultof distraction. Billy Bob caught up the roarer and threw him almost up to the ceiling. "Hurrah for Dave!" he said, and to the best of his ability Crimie"hurrahed" while Mistake joined in enthusiastically. The hubbub at lastpenetrated the slumbers of the twins, who added to the uproar to such anextent that Mammy Betty hurried to the scene of action and cleared thedeck without further delay. "And, " continued Billy Bob to Milly and the pair of serene and onlyslightly attentive young people, "you should have seen Jeff, dressed inDave's last year frock coat and high hat, whizzing around the coon hauntsin Caroline's gray car handing out invitations to the Chocolate CountryClub jamboree! They put the bottle and the dimes completely out ofbusiness and he voted the whole gang straight. They tried hard to fix upthe returns but Hob and I were at the count and we saw it clean. Holysmoke, what a sell for the machine! Slipped a cog on the nigger vote thatthey have handled for years!" "And not a dollar spent!" said David with pride. Which goes to show thatat times women keep their own counsels, for Phoebe ducked her head tohide a smile. "And now it's up to you to hurry and get to the University Club byeight-thirty. You are to address the populace and two brass bands fromthe northeast window at nine sharp--two extras out announcing it. Everybody has been looking for you an hour, you old moon-spooner, you!"urged Billy Bob. "They can keep up the hunt--Phoebe and I are going--well, we are goingwhere nobody can find us for this evening anyway, " answered David withdanger in his eyes. "No!" said Phoebe as she slipped her hand into his, "I've had you as longas is fair as it is. Won't you go and see them all? If you will I willdress in a hurry and you can come by for me. Please!" "Don't pull back on the leash, David, " remarked Billy Bob. "It's justbeginning. Trot to heel and be happy. " He laid his arm round Milly'swaist as he spoke and gave her a little squeeze. And it was into the midst of a glorious round-up of a whole joyousconvention of friends that David Kildare stepped several hours later, aresplendent and magnificent David with Phoebe glowing beside him. And, too, it was not only his own high particulars that surged around him, for Phoebe had fixed it with the board of governors and made out a verycareful list of every campaign friend he had made and had all the girlsat the phones for hours inviting each and every one. If at any time inhis political career David Kildare should lack the far vision Phoebe wasfully capable of taking a long sight for him. So Mike O'Rourke was there, stuffed carefully into a rented dress suitand was being attentioned to the point of combustion by Polly, who wasthus putting off a reckoning with young New England, promised for "afterthe election. " Freckles, the devil, was having the lark of his life inremoving hats and coats under the direction of an extremely dignifiedclub official. There were men from the down-town district in plain business clothes whostood in excited groups discussing the issues of the day. The head of thecotton mills, who had voted every employee perfectly in line withoutcoercion, was expatiating largely to four old fellows in gray, for whomCap had succeeded in obtaining furloughs from the commandant out at theHome and was keeping over night as his guests. They also were having thelark of their young lives and were being overwhelmed by attentions fromall the Confederate Dames present. Susie Carrie was wonderful in some dangerously contrived Greek draperies, and over by the window held court on the subject of a city beautifulunder a council of artistic city fathers. She announced the beginning ofsittings for a full life-sized portrait of Judge Kildare for the cityhall, at which Billy Bob raised such a cheer as almost to drown out theorchestra. Mrs. Buchanan received everybody with the most beaming delight and Mrs. Shelby was so excited that she asked Billy Bob about the children, whichconcession brought the stars to Milly's gentle eyes. Mrs. Cherry, as usual, was in full and resplendent regalia with Tom inattendance, displaying a satisfied and masterful manner that told its owntale. Her amazing encounter with Tempie had remained a secret between herand the discreet old negro and her manner to Caroline Darrah was soimpressively cordial that Phoebe actually unbent to the extent of anexchange of congratulations that had a semblance of friendliness. Thewidow's net having hauled up Tom, hopes for untroubled waters again couldbe indulged. In the midst of all the hilarity the delegations and the bands began toarrive outside. The cheering rose to a roar and from the brilliantlylighted ballroom David Kildare stepped out on the balcony and stoodforty-five minutes laughing and bowing, not managing to get in more thana few words of what might have been a great speech if his constituencyhad not been entirely too excited to listen to it. It was almost midnight when they all marched away to _Dixie_ played torag-time measure and sung by five hundred strong. With a sigh of reliefDavid held out his arms to Phoebe and started to swing her into the whirlof the dancers. As his arms fell about her Phoebe pressed close to himwith a quick breath and his eyes followed hers across the room. Under the lights that hung above the entrance to the fern room stoodCaroline Darrah like a flower blown against the deep green of the tallpalms behind her, and her eyes were lifted to Andrew's face which smileddown at her with suppressed tragedy. For an instant she laid her handon his arm and they were about to catch step with the music when suddenlyshe swung around into the green tangle beyond her and reached out herhand to draw him after her. "Pray, David, pray, " said Phoebe as they glided over the polished floor. "I am, " David whispered back as his arms tightened. "I can't think ofanything but 'Now I lay me'--but won't it help?" In the wide window at the end of the long room Caroline turned and waitedfor Andrew. The lights from the city beat up into her face and she waspale, while her jewel eyes shone black under their long lashes. Her whitegloved hands wrung themselves against his breast as she held him fromher. "Out there while we danced, " she whispered, "I don't know what, butsomething told me that you are going to leave me and not tell me why. Youwere saying good-by to my heart--with yours. Tell me, what is it?" And with full knowledge of the strange, subtle, superconscious thing thathad been between them from the first and which had manifested itself indevious mystic ways, Andrew Sevier had dared to think he could hold herin his arms in an atmosphere charged with the call of a half-barbarousmusic and take farewell of her--she all unknowing of what threatened! "What is it?" she demanded again and her hands separated to clasp hisshoulder convulsively. Her words were a flutter between her teeth. Then the God of Women struck light across his blindness, and taking herin his arms, he looked her straight in the eyes and told her the wholegruesome bitter tale. Before he had finished she closed her eyes againsthis and swayed away from him to the cold window-pane. "I see, " she whispered, "you don't want me--youcouldn't--_you_--_never_--_did_!" And at that instant the blood bond in Andrew Sevier's breast snapped andwith an awed comprehension of the vast and everlasting Source from whichflows the love that constrains and the love that heals, the love thatonly comes to bind in honor, he reached out and took his own. In theseventh heaven which is the soul haunt of all in like case, there was noneed of word mating. Hours later, one by one the lights in the houses along the avenuetwinkled out and the street lay in the grasp of the after midnightsilence. Only a bright light still burned at the major's table, which waspiled high with books into which he was delving with the hunger of manylong hours of deprivation strong upon him. He had scouted the idea of theball, had donned dressing-gown and slippers and gone back to the companyof his Immortals with alacrity. On their return Mrs. Buchanan and thegirls had found him buried in his tomes ten deep and it was withdifficulty that Phoebe, kneeling beside him on one side, and Caroline onthe other, made him listen to their joint tale of modern romance, towhich Mrs. Matilda played the part of a joyous commentator. To Phoebe he was merciless and a war of wits made the library echo withits give and take. "Of course, my dear Phoebe, " he said, "it is an established fact that aman and his wife are one, and if you will just let that one be JudgeKildare semi-occasionally it will more than content him, I'm sure. " "Why, Major, can't you trust me to be a good--wife to David? Don't beunkind to me! I'll promise to--to--" "Don't, Phoebe, don't! That 'love, honor and obey' clause is the directcause of all the woman legislation ever undertaken--and it holds aremarkably short time after marriage as a general thing. Now there'sMatilda--for over thirty-five years I've--But where is Andrew?" hedemanded anxiously. "Andy, " answered David with the greatest delight in his happy eyes andthe red lock rampant over his brow, "is sitting on the end of a hardbench down at the telegraph office trying to get a cable through to hischief for permission to wait over for a steamer that sails for Panamatwo weeks from to-day. " "What?" demanded the major in surprise, looking at Caroline. "Oh, _she's_ going with him--there are no frills to the affection ofCaroline Darrah! She'll be bending over his camp-fire yanking out his hottamales in less than a month--glad to do it. Won't you, beautiful?"answered David gleefully to Caroline's beautiful confusion. "David Kildare, " observed the major with the utmost solemnity, "when aman and woman embark with love at the rudder it is well the Almightycontrols the wind and the tides. " "I know, Major, I know and I'm scared some, only I'm counting on Phoebe'schart and the stars. I'm just the jolly paddler, " answered David with alaugh across at Phoebe. "Well, " remarked the major judicially, "I think she will be able toaccomplish the course if undisturbed. It will behoove you, however, toremember that husband love is a steady combustion, not a conflagration. " "What do you call a love that has burned constantly for between ten andfifteen years, Major?" asked David as he smiled into the keen old eyesthat held his. "That, " answered the major, "is a fire fit to light an altar, sir. " "And in my heart, ah, Major, can you trust me--to keep--it burning?" saidPhoebe, thus making her avowal before them all with gallant voice andeyes of the dawn. Moments later after Phoebe and Mrs. Buchanan had retired down the hall, and up the stairway, Caroline Darrah still knelt by the major's chair. They were both silent and the major held her hand in his. They neither ofthem heard the latch key and in a moment Andrew Sevier stood across thefirelight from them. "I wanted to hear it, Major, " he entreated as he laid his hand onCaroline's shoulder when she came to his side and held out his other tothe major. "Say it, if you will, sir!" "The Almighty bless you, boy, and make His sun to shine upon you. Heis doing it in giving you Caroline to wife. Some women He holds ashostages until the greater men in us can rise to claim them and to-nightHis eyes have seen your fulfilment. " The major looked straight into thepain-ravaged but radiant face before him and his keen old eyes glowedthrough the mist that spread across them. "Child, " he said after a moment's silence as he laid his hand onCaroline's other shoulder, "across the many waters that can not drownlove you have brought back to my old age young Andrew the Glad. " THE END