[Illustration: "The rich voice of the bishop was as impressive as ithad ever been. " (See page 77)]

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THE INDIFFERENCE OF JULIET

By GRACE S. RICHMOND

Author of"The Second Violin" "The Dixons"

With IllustrationsBy HENRY HUTT

A. L. BURT COMPANY, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK

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Copyright, 1902, 1903, 1904, by The CurtisPublishing Company

Copyright, 1905, byDoubleday, Page& Company

Published, March, 1905

All rights reserved, including that oftranslation--also right of translationinto the Scandinavian languages

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ToFather and Mother

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CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE I. An Audacious Proposition 3 II. Measurements 12 III. Shopping with a Chaperon 17 IV. The Cost of Frocks 23 V. Muslins and Tackhammers 30 VI. A Question of Identity 36 VII. An Argument Without Logic 46 VIII. On Account of the Tea-Kettle 57 IX. A Bishop and a Hay-Wagon 69 X. On a Threshold 80 XII. The Bachelor Begs a Dish-Towel 101 XIII. Smoke and Talk 114 XIV. Strawberries 120 XV. Anthony Plays Maid 136 XVI. A House-Party--Outdoors 144 XVII. Rachel Causes Anxiety 155 XVIII. An Unknown Quantity 164 XIX. All the April Stars Are Out 175 XX. A Prior Claim 181 XXI. Everybody Gives Advice 191 XXII. Roger Barnes Proves Invaluable 201 XXIII. Two Not of a Kind 215 XXIV. The Careys Are at Home 233 XXV. The Robeson Will 246 XXVI. On Guard 266 XXVII. Lockwood Pays a Call 282XXVIII. A High-Handed Affair 294 XXIX. Juliet Proves Herself Still Indifferent 303

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PRINCIPAL CHARACTERS

HORATIO MARCY, an elderly New Englander of some wealth. 

ANTHONY ROBESON, the last young male representative of the KentuckyROBESONS, now making his own way in Massachusetts. 

WAYNE CAREY, Robeson's former college chum, an office clerk on a salary. 

DR. ROGER WILLIAMS BARNES, a surgeon. 

LOUIS LOCKWOOD, an attorney-at-law. 

STEVENS CATHCART, an architect. 

MRS. DINGLEY, sister of Horatio Marcy. 

JULIET MARCY, daughter of Horatio Marcy. 

JUDITH DEARBORN, Juliet's friend since school-days. 

SUZANNE GERARD, MARIE DRESSER, other friends of Juliet. 

RACHEL REDDING, a poor country girl--of education. 

MARY MCKAIM--in the background, but valuable. 

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THE INDIFFERENCE OF JULIET

I. --AN AUDACIOUS PROPOSITION

Anthony Robeson glanced about him in a satisfied way at the shaded nookunder the low-hanging boughs into which he had guided the boat. Then hedrew in his oars and let the little craft drift. 

"This is an ideal spot, " said he, looking into his friend's face, "inwhich to tell you a rather interesting piece of news. "

"Oh, fine!" cried his friend, settling herself among the cushions in thestern and tilting back her parasol so that the light through its whiteexpanse framed her health-tinted face in a sort of glory. "Tell me atonce. I suspected you came with something on your mind. There couldn't bea lovelier place on the river than this for confidences. But I can guessyours. Tony, you've found 'her'!"

"And you'll be my friend just the same?" questioned Anthony anxiously. "Mychum--my confidante?"

"Oh, well, Tony, that's absurd, " declared Juliet Marcy severely. "As if_she_ would allow it!"

"She's three thousand miles away. "

"I'm ashamed of you!"

"Just in the interval, then, " pleaded Anthony. "I need you now worse thanever. For I've a tremendous responsibility on my hands. The--the--youknow--is to come off in September, and this is June--and I've a house tofurnish. Will you help me do it, Juliet?"

"_Anthony Robeson!_" she said explosively under her breath, with a laugh. Then she sat up and leaned forward with a commanding gesture. "Tell me allabout it. What is her name and who is she? Where did you meet her? Are youvery much----"

"Would I marry a girl if I were not 'very much'?" demanded Anthony. "Well--I'll tell you--since you insist on these non-essentials before youreally come down to business. Her name is Eleanor Langham, and she livesin San Francisco. Her family is old, aristocratic, wealthy--yet shecondescends to me. "

He looked up keenly into her eyes, and her brown lashes fell for aninstant before something in his glance, but she said quickly: "Go on. "

"When the--affair--is over I want to bring my bride straight home, "Anthony proceeded, with a tinge of colour in his smooth, clear cheek. "Ishall have no vacation to speak of at that time of year, and no time tospend in furnishing a house. Yet I want it all ready for her. So you see Ineed a friend. I shall have two weeks to spare in July, and if you wouldhelp me--"

"But, Tony, " she interrupted, "how could I? If--if we were seen shoppingtogether----"

"No, we couldn't go shopping together in New York without being liable torun into a wondering crowd of friends, of course--not in the places whereyou would want to go. But here you are only a couple of hours from Boston;you will be here all summer; you and Mrs. Dingley and I could run intoBoston for a day at a time without anybody's being the wiser. I know--thatis--I'm confident Mrs. Dingley would do it for me----"

"Oh, of course. Did Auntie ever deny you anything since the days when sheused to give you jam as often as you came across to play with me?"

"Never. "

"Have you _her_ photograph?" inquired Miss Marcy with an emphasis whichleft no possible doubt as to whose photograph she meant. 

"I expected that, " said Anthony gravely. "I expected it even sooner. But Iam prepared. "

She sat watching him curiously as he slowly drew from his breast-pocket atiny leather case, and gazed at it precisely as a lover might be expectedto gaze at his lady's image before jealously surrendering it into otherhands. She had never seen Anthony Robeson look at any photograph excepther own with just that expression. She had often wondered if he everwould. She had recommended this course of procedure to him many times, usually after once more gently refusing to marry him. She had begun atlast to doubt whether it would ever be possible to divert Tony's mind fromits long-sought object. But that trip to San Francisco, and the months hehad spent there in the interests of the firm he served, had evidentlybrought about the desired change. She had not seen him since his returnuntil to-day, when he had run up into the country where was the Marcysummer home, to tell her, as she now understood, his news and to make hissomewhat extraordinary request. 

She accepted the photograph with a smile, and studied it with attention. 

"Oh, but isn't she pretty?" she cried warmly--and generously, for she wasthinking as she looked how much prettier was Miss Langham than MissMarcy. 

"Isn't she?" agreed Anthony with enthusiasm. 

"Lovely. What eyes! And what a dear mouth!"

"You're right. "

"She looks clever, too. "

"She is. "

"How tall is she?"

"About up to my shoulder. "

"She's little, then. "

"Well, I don't know, " objected Anthony, surveying his own stalwart lengthof limb. "A girl doesn't have to be a dwarf not to be on a level with me. I should say she must be somewhere near your height. "

"What a magnificent dresser!"

"Is she? She never irritates one with the fact. "

"Oh, but I can see. And she's going to marry you. Tony, what can you giveher?"

"A little box of a house, one maidservant, an occasional trip into town, four new frocks a year--moderate ones, you know, in keeping with hercircumstances--and my name, " replied Anthony composedly. 

"You won't let her live in town, then?"

"Let her! Good heavens, what sort of a place could I give her in town onmy salary? Now, in the very rural suburb I've picked out she can live inthe greatest comfort, and we can have a real home--something I haven't hadsince Dad died and the old home and the money and all the rest of itwent. "

His face was grave now, and he was staring down into the water as if hesaw there both what he had lost and what he hoped to gain. 

"Yes, " said Juliet sympathetically, though she did not know how to imaginethe girl whose photograph she held in the surroundings Anthony suggested. Presently she went on in her gentlest tone: "I'm not saying that the nameisn't a proud one to offer her, Tony--and if she is willing to share youraltered fortunes I've no doubt she will be happy. Along with your nameyou'll give her a heart worth having. "

"Thank you, " said Anthony without looking up. 

Miss Marcy coloured slightly, and hastened to supplement this speech withanother. 

"The question is--since the home is to be hers--why not let her furnishit? Her tastes and mine might not agree. Besides----"

"Well----"

"Why--you know, Tony, " explained Juliet in some confusion, "I shouldn'tknow how to be economical. "

"I'm aware that you haven't been brought up on the most economical basis, "Anthony acknowledged frankly. "But I'll take care of my funds, no matterhow extravagant you are inclined to be. If I should hand you five dollarsand say, 'Buy a dining-table, ' you could do it, couldn't you? You couldn'tsatisfy your ideals, of course, but you could give me the benefit of yourdiscriminating choice within the five-dollar limit. "

Juliet laughed, but in her eyes there grew nevertheless a look of doubt. "Tony, " she demanded, "how much have you to spend on the furnishing ofthat house?"

"Just five hundred dollars, " said Anthony concisely. "And that must coverthe repairing and painting of the outside. Really, Juliet, haven't I donefairly well to save up that and the cost of the house and lot--for afellow who till five years ago never did a thing for himself and neverexpected to need to? Yes, I know--the piano in your music-room cost twicethat, and so did the horses you drive, and a very few of your pretty gownswould swallow another five. But Mrs. Anthony Robeson will have to chastenher ideas a trifle. Do you know, Juliet--I think she will--for love ofme?"

He was smiling at his own audacious confidence. Juliet attempted no replyto this very unanswerable statement. She studied the photograph insilence, and he lay watching her. In her blue-and-white boating suit shewas a pleasant object to look at. 

"Will you help me?" he asked again at length. "I'm more anxious than I cantell you to have everything ready. "

"I shouldn't like to fail you, Tony, since you really wish it, though I'mvery sure you'll find me a poor adviser. But you haven't been a brother tome since the mud-pie days for nothing, and if I can help you withsuggestions as to colour and style I'll be glad to. Though I shall all thewhile be trying to live up to this photograph, and that will be a littlehard on the five-dollar-dining-table scale. "

"You've only to look out that everything is in good taste, " said Anthonyquietly, "and that you can't help doing. My wife will thank you, and thenew home will be sweet to her because of you. It surely will to me. "

II. --MEASUREMENTS

It was on the first day of Robeson's two-weeks' July vacation that he cameto take Juliet Marcy and her aunt, Mrs. Dingley, who had long stood to herin the place of the mother she had early lost, to see the home he hadbought in a remote suburb of a great city. It was a three-hours' journeyfrom the Marcy country place, but he had insisted that Juliet could notfurnish the house intelligently until she had studied it in detail. 

So at eleven o'clock of a hot July morning Miss Marcy found herselfsurveying from the roadway a small, old-fashioned white house, with greenblinds shading its odd, small-paned windows; a very "box of a house, " asAnthony had said, set well back from the quiet street and surrounded byuntrimmed trees and overgrown shrubbery. The whole place had a neglectedappearance. Even the luxuriant climbing-rose, which did its best to hidethe worn white paint of the house-front, served to intensify the look ofdecay. 

"Charming, isn't it?" asked Robeson with the air of the delightedproprietor. "Of course everything looks gone to seed, but paint and alawn-mower and a few other things will make another place of it. It's goodold colonial, that's sure, and only needs a bit of fixing up to be quitecorrect, architecturally, small as it is. "

He led the way up the weedy path, Mrs. Dingley and Juliet exchangingamused glances behind his back. He opened the doors with a flourish andwaved the ladies in. They entered with close-held skirts and nosesinvoluntarily sniffing at the musty air. Anthony ran around openingwindows and explaining the "points" of the house. When they had been overit Mrs. Dingley, warm and weary, subsided upon the door-step, while Julietand Anthony fell to discussing the possibilities of the place. 

"You see, " said Anthony, mopping his heated brow, "it isn't like havingbig, high rooms to decorate. These little rooms, "--he put up his hand andsucceeded, from his fine height, in touching the ceiling of the lowerfront room in which they stood--"won't stand anything but the most simpletreatment, and expensive papers and upholsteries would be out of place. Itwill take only very small rugs to suit the floors. The main thing for youto think of will be colours and effects. You'll find five hundred dollarswill go a long way, even after the repairs and outside painting aredisposed of. "

He looked so appealing that Juliet could but answer heartily: "Yes, I'msure of it. And now, Tony, don't you think you'd better draw a plan of thehouse, putting in all the measurements, so we shall know just how to go towork? And I will go around and dream a while in each room. Give me thephotograph, you devoted lover, so I can plan things to suit _her_. "

Anthony laughed and put his hand into his breast-pocket. But he drew itout empty. 

"Why--I've left it behind, " he admitted in some embarrassment. "I reallythought I had it. "

"Oh, Tony! And on this very trip when we needed it most! How could youleave it behind? Don't you always carry it next your heart?"

"Is that the prescribed place?"

"Certainly. I should doubt a man's love if he did not constantly wear mylikeness right where it could feel his heart beating for me. "

"Now I never supposed, " remarked Anthony, considering her attentively, "that you had so much romance about you. Do you realise that for anextremely practical young person such as you have--mostly--appeared to be, that is a particularly sentimental suggestion? Er--should you wear his inthe same way, may I inquire?"

"Of course, " returned Juliet with defiance in her eyes, whose lashes, whenthey fell at length before his steadily interested gaze, swept a daintilycolouring cheek. 

"Have you ever worn one?" inquired this hardy young man, nothing dauntedby these signs of righteous indignation. But all he got for answer was avigorous:

"You absurd boy! Now go to work at your measurements. I'm going upstairs. There's one room up there, the one with the gable corners and the littlebits of windows, that's perfectly fascinating. It must be done in Delftblue and white. Since I haven't the photograph"--she turned on thethreshold to smile roguishly back at him--"memory must serve. Beautifuldark hair; eyes like a Madonna's; a perfect nose; the dearest mouth in theworld--oh, yes----"

She vanished around the corner only to put her head in again with the airof one who fires a parting shot at a discomfited enemy: "But, Tony--do youhonestly think the house is large enough for such a queen of a woman?Won't her throne take up the whole of the first floor?"

Then she was gone up the diminutive staircase, and her light footstepscould be heard on the bare floors overhead. Left alone, Anthony Robesonstood still for a moment looking fixedly at the door by which she hadgone. The smile with which he had answered her gay fling had faded; hiseyes had grown dark with a singular fire; his hands were clenched. Suddenly he strode across the floor and stopped by the door. He waslooking down at the quaint old latch which served instead of a knob. Then, with a glance at the unconscious back of Mrs. Dingley, sitting sleepily onthe little porch outside, he stooped and pressed his lips upon the ironwhere Juliet's hand had lain. 

III. --SHOPPING WITH A CHAPERON

"Five hundred dollars, " mused Miss Marcy, on the Boston train nextmorning. "Six rooms--living-room, dining-room, kitchen, and threebedrooms. That's----"

"You forget, " warned Anthony Robeson from the seat where he faced Julietand Mrs. Dingley. "That must cover the outside painting and repairs. Youcan't figure on having more than three hundred dollars left for theinside. "

"Dear me, yes, " frowned Juliet. She held Anthony's plan in her hand, andher tablets and pencil lay in her lap. "Well, I can spend fifty dollars oneach room--only some will need more than others. The living-room will takethe most--no, the dining-room. "

"The kitchen will take the most, " suggested Mrs. Dingley. "Your range willuse up the most of your fifty. And kitchen utensils count up veryrapidly. "

"It will be a very small range, " Anthony said. "A little toy stove wouldbe more practical for our--the kitchen. How big is it, Juliet?"

"'Ten by fourteen, '" read Juliet. "From the centre of the room you can hitall the side walls with the broom. Speaking of walls, Tony--those must beour first consideration. If we get our colour scheme right everything elsewill follow. I have it all in my head. "

So it proved. But it also proved, when they had been hard at work for anhour at a well-known decorator's, that the tints and designs for whichMiss Marcy asked were not readily to be found in the low-pricedwall-papers to which Anthony rigidly held her. 

"I must have the softest, most restful greens for the living-room, " sheannounced. "There--_that_----"

"But that is a dollar a roll, " whispered Anthony. 

"Then--_that_!"

"Eighty-five cents. "

"But for that little room, Tony----"

"Twenty-five cents a roll is all we can allow, " insisted Anthony firmly. "And less than that everywhere else. "

The salesman was very obliging, and showed the best things possible forthe money. It was impossible to resist the appeal in the eyes of thiscritical but restricted young buyer. 

"There, that will do, I think, " said Juliet at length, with a long breath. "The green for the living-room and for the bit of a hall--No, no, Tony;I've just thought! You must take away that little partition and let thestairs go up out of the living-room. That will improve the apparent sizeof things wonderfully. "

"All right, " agreed Anthony obediently. 

"Then we'll put that rich red in the dining-room. For upstairs there isthe tiny rose pattern, and the Delft blue, and that little pale yellow andwhite stripe. In the kitchen we'll have the tile pattern. We won't have aborder anywhere--the rooms are too low; just those simplest mouldings, andthe ivory white on the ceilings. The woodwork must all be white. Therenow, that's settled. Next come the floors. "

There could be no doubt that Juliet was becoming interested in her task. Though the July heat was intense she led the way with rapid steps to theplace where she meant to select her rugs. Here the three spent a tryingtwo hours. It was hard to please Miss Marcy with Japanese jute rugs, satisfactory in colouring though many of them were, when she longed to buyPersian pieces of distinction. If Juliet had a special weakness it was forchoice antique rugs. 

She cornered Anthony at last, while Mrs. Dingley and the salesman werepolitely but unequivocally disputing over the quality of a certain pieceof Chinese weaving. 

"Tony, " she begged, "please let me get that one dear Turkish square forthe living-room. It will give character to the whole room, and the coloursare perfectly exquisite. I simply can't get one of those cheap things togo in front of that beautiful old fireplace. Imagine the firelight on thatsquare; it would make you want to spend your evenings at home. Please!"

"Do you imagine that I shall ever want to spend them anywhere else?" askedTony softly, looking down into her appealing face. "Why, chum, I'd like toget that Tabriz you admire so much, if it would please you, in spite ofthe fact that we should have to pull the whole house up forty notches tomatch it. But even the Turkish square is out of the question. "

"But, Tony"--Juliet was whispering now with her head a little bent and hereyes on the lapel of his coat--"won't you let me do it as my--mycontribution? I'd like to put something of my own into your house. "

"You dear little girl, " Anthony answered--and possibly for her own peaceof mind it was fortunate that Miss Langham, of California, could not seethe look with which he regarded Miss Marcy, of Massachusetts--"I'm sureyou would. And you are putting into it just what is priceless to me--yourindividuality and your perfect taste. But I can't let even you helpfurnish that house. She--must take what I--and only I--can give her. "

"You're perfectly ridiculous, " murmured Juliet, turning away with anexpression of deep displeasure. "As if she wouldn't bring all sorts ofelegant stuff with her, and make your cheap things look insignificant. "

"I don't think she will, " returned Anthony with conviction. "She'll bringnothing out of keeping with the house. "

"I thought you told me she was of a wealthy family. "

"She is. But if she marries me she leaves all that behind. I'll have nowife on any other basis. "

"Well--for a son of the Robesons of Kentucky you are absolutely the mostabsurd boy anybody ever heard of, " declared the girl hotly under herbreath. Then she walked over and ordered a certain inexpensive rug for theliving-room with the air of a princess and the cheeks of a poppy. 

IV. --THE COST OF FROCKS

It may have been that Miss Marcy was piqued into trying to see how littleshe could spend, but certain it was that from the time she left the carpetshop she begged for no exceptions to Mr. Robeson's rule of strict economy. She selected simple, delicate muslins for the windows, one and all, without a glance at finer draperies; bought denims and printed stuffs asif she had never heard of costlier upholsteries; and turned away fromseductive pieces of Turkish and Indian embroideries offered for herinspection with a demure, "No, I don't care to look at those now, " whichmore than once brought a covert smile to Anthony's lips and a twinkle tothe eyes of the salesman. It was so very evident that the fair buyer didnot pass them by for lack of interest. 

Altogether, it was an interesting week these three people spent--for aweek it took. Anthony began to protest after the first two days, and saidhe could not ask so much of his friends. But Juliet would not be hinderedfrom taking infinite pains, and Mrs. Dingley good humouredly lent the twoher chaperonage and her occasional counsel, such as only the gray-hairedmatron of long housewifely experience can furnish. 

The selection of the furniture took perhaps the most time, and was thehardest, because of the difficulty of finding good styles in keeping withthe limited purse. Anthony possessed a number of good pieces of antiquecharacter, but beyond these everything was to be purchased. Juliet turnedin despair from one shop after another, and when it came to the fitting ofthe dining-room she grew distinctly indignant. 

"It's a perfect shame, " she said, "that they can't offer really gooddesigns in the cheap things. Did you ever see anything so hideous? Tony, if I were you I'd rather eat my breakfast off one of those white kitchentables--or----"

She broke off suddenly, rushed away down the long room to a group ofchastely elegant dining-room furniture and came back after a little with aface of great eagerness to drag her companions away with her. She tookthem to survey a set of the costliest of all. 

"Have you gone crazy?" Anthony inquired. 

"Not at all. Tony, just study that table. It's massive, but it'ssimple--simple as beauty always is. Look at those perfectly straightlegs--what clever cabinet maker couldn't copy that in--in ash, Tony? Thenthere are stains--I've heard of them--that rub into wood and then finishin some way so it's smooth and satiny. You could do that--I'm sure youcould. Then you'd get the lovely big top you want. And the chairs--do yousee the plain, solid-looking things? I know they could be made this way. Then the dining-room would be simply dear!"

 * * * * *

"Juliet, you're coming on, " declared Anthony with satisfaction thatevening as the two, back at the Marcy country place, strolled slowly overthe lawn toward the river edge. "At this rate you'll do for a poor man'swife yourself some day. That frock you have on now--isn't that a sort ofconcession to the humble company you're in?"

"In what way?" Juliet glanced down at the pale-green gown whose delicateskirts she was daintily lifting, and in which she looked like a flower inits calyx. She had rejoiced to exchange the dusty dress in which she hadcome home from town for this, which suggested coolness in each freshfold. 

"Why, it strikes me as about the simplest dress I ever saw you wear. Isn'tit really--well--the least expensive thing you have had in that line insome time?"

The amused laugh with which this observation was greeted might have beendisconcerting to anybody but Anthony Robeson, but he maintained his groundwith calmness. 

"How many of these do you think you can furnish Mrs. Anthony with in ayear?" Juliet inquired, her lips forcing themselves to soberness, but thelaughter lingering in her eyes. 

"Several, as girlishly demure as that, I fancy, " asserted the young manwith confidence. 

But Juliet's momentary gravity broke down. "Oh, you clever boy!" she said. "I shall advise Mrs. Anthony to send you shopping for her when she needs anew frock. You will order home just what she wants without stopping to askthe price, you will be so confident that you know a cheap thing when yousee it. Afterward you will pay the bill--and then the awful frown on yourbrow! You will have to live on bread and milk for a month to get youraccounts straightened out. Oh, Tony!--No, I shouldn't do for a poor man'swife--not judging by this 'girlishly demure' gown, you poor lamb. --But, Tony, " with a swift change of manner, "I do think the little house will bevery charming indeed. I can hardly wait to know that the painting andpapering are done, so that we can go down and get things in order. I longto arrange those fascinating new tin things in that bit of a cupboard. Tony"--turning to him solemnly--"does _she_ know how to cook?"

"I think she is learning now, " he assured her. "Seems to me she mentionedit in to-day's----" He fumbled in his breast-pocket and brought out aletter. 

Juliet stole an interested glance at it. She observed that there werethree closely written sheets of the heavy linen paper, and that thehandwriting was one suggestive of a pleasing individuality. Anthony, inthe dim twilight, was scanning page after page in a lover's absorbed way. Juliet walked along by his side in silence. She was thinking of the facein the photograph, and wondering if Miss Eleanor Langham really lovedAnthony Robeson as he deserved to be loved. 

"For he is a dear, dear fellow, " she said to herself, "and if she couldjust see him planning so enthusiastically for her comfort, even if he doeshave to economise, she'd----"

"No, it's not in this letter, " observed Anthony, putting the sheetstogether with a lingering touch which did not escape his companion's quickeyes. "It must have been in yesterday's. "

"Does she write every day?"

"Did you ever hear of an engaged pair who didn't write every day?"

"It must take a good deal of your time, " she remarked. "But, of course, she can cook. Every sane girl takes a cooking-school course nowadays. It'sas essential as French. "

"You did, then?"

"Of course. Don't you remember when I used to edify you with new andwonderful dishes every time you dropped in to luncheon?"

"But did you learn the more important things?"

"I paid especial attention to soups, sir, " laughed Juliet. "Now, if Mrs. Anthony has done that you can live very economically. "

"I'll suggest it to her, " said Anthony gravely. 

V. --MUSLINS AND TACKHAMMERS

It took several trips to the small house, and a great deal of hemming andruffling of muslin on the part of Juliet and the Marcy sewing-woman, tosay nothing of many days of Anthony's hard labour, to get everything inplace. But it was all done at length, and the hour arrived to close thenew home and leave it to wait the oncoming day in September when it shouldbe permanently opened. 

"I'll just go over it once more, " said Juliet to Mrs. Dingley. The latterlady was lying in a hammock out under the apple trees, waiting for traintime and her final release from duties which were becoming decidedlywearisome. It was the first day of August, and the evening was a warm one. Anthony had gone off upon a last errand of some sort. Mrs. Dingley was tooexhausted to offer to accompany her niece, and Juliet ran back into thehouse alone. She wandered slowly through the rooms, looking about to seeif there might be any perfecting touch which she could add. 

It was a charming place; even a daughter of the house of Marcy could butown to that. Under her skilful management the little rooms had blossomedinto a fresh, satisfying beauty that needed only the addition of thepersonal adornment which Anthony's bride would be sure to bring, to becomea home--the home not only of a poor man but of a refined and cultured oneas well. Restricted though she had been to the most inexpensive means ofbringing about this happy result, Juliet had made them all tell toward aneffect of great harmony and beauty. Perhaps to nobody was this more of arevelation than to the girl herself. 

She was very proud of the living-room, as she looked about it. Thepartition between it and the tiny hall had been removed, according to hersuggestion, and the straight staircase altered by means of a landing andan abrupt turn which transformed it into picturesqueness. With its low, broad steps, its slender spindles and odd posts, it added much to thecharacter of the room. 

Like most old New England houses, this one's chief glory was its greatcentral chimney, with big fireplaces opening both into the living-room andthe dining-room. In the former, between the fireplace and the staircase, and forming a suggestion of an inglenook, Juliet had contrived a high, wide seat, cushioned in dull green, and boasting a number of prettypillows. It must be confessed that she had surreptitiously added a littleto these in the matter of certain modestly rich bits of material, and shecontemplated the result with great satisfaction. It may be remarked, withno comment whatever, that in spite of their beauty there was not a pillowof all those scattered about the house which a weary man might not tuckunder his head without fear of ruining a creation too delicate for any usebut to be admired. 

Having seized upon the idea of staining cheap material, she had carried itout in a set of low bookcases across the end and one side of the room. These awaited the coming of the several hundreds of choice books whichAnthony had saved from his father's library. Two fine old portraits, dearto the hearts of many generations of the "Robesons of Kentucky, " lentdistinction to the home of their young descendant. Altogether the room wasboth quaint and artistic, and with its few plain chairs and tables, mostlyheirlooms, and all of good old colonial design, was a room in which onecould readily imagine one's self sitting down to a winter evening of cosycomfort, such as is not always to be had in far finer abiding-places. 

The dining-room was a study in its reds and browns, and its home-madefurniture was an astonishing success--if one were not too severelycritical. As she surveyed it Juliet seemed to see the future master andmistress of this little home sitting down opposite each other in thefireglow, and smiling across. 

The coming Mrs. Robeson, if one might judge by her photograph, was a womanto lend grace and dignity to her surroundings, whatever they might be. Juliet could imagine her pretty, stately way of presiding at such smallfeasts as the room was destined to see, making her guests quite forgetthat she was not mistress of a mansion equal to any in the land. Would shebe happy? Could she be happy here, after all that she had had of anotherand very different sort of life? For some reason, as Juliet stood andlooked and thought, her face grew very sober, and a long-drawn breathescaped her lips. 

The little kitchen was an exceedingly alluring place, gay in the braveryof fresh paint and spotless, shining utensils. There were even crispcurtains--at eight cents a yard--tied back at the high, wide-silled, triple window with its diminutive panes. It needed only a pot or two ofgrowing plants in the window, and a neat-handed Phyllis in a figured gown, to be the old-time kitchen of one's dreams. 

But it was upon the rooms on the upper floor that Juliet had exhausted herimagination and effort. Nothing could have been conceived of more daintythan they. Here her denims and muslins had run riot. Low dressing-tablesclad in ruffled hangings, their padded tops delicate with the breath oforris; beds valanced with similar stuffs; high-backed chairs, their seatscushioned into comfort--everything was done in the cleverest imitation ofthe ancient styles in keeping with the old-fashioned house. It all madeone think of the patter of high-heeled, buckled slippers, and stiff, rustling, brocaded gowns, and powdered hair, and the odours of long ago. Anthony would never know what his friendly home-maker had put into theserooms of sentiment and charm. 

VI. --A QUESTION OF IDENTITY

At the door of the blue-and-white room, the one upon which the girl hadlavished her most tender fancies, she stood at length, looking in. And asshe looked something swam before her eyes. A sob rose in her throat. Shechoked it back; she brushed her hand across her face. Then she tried tolaugh. "Oh, what a goose I am!" she said sternly to herself. And then sheran across the room, sank upon her knees before the window-seat with itsblue and white cushions, and burying her face in one of them cried herwretched, jealous, longing heart out. 

Anthony, coming in hastily but softly through the small kitchen, heard therush of footsteps overhead, and stopped. He waited a moment, listeningeagerly; then he came noiselessly into the living-room and stood still. His face, always strong and somewhat stern in its repose, had in itto-night a certain unusual intensity. He looked at his watch and saw thatthere was an hour before train time. Then he sat down where he could seethe top of the staircase and waited. 

By and by light footsteps crossed the floor above and came through thelittle hall. From where he sat Anthony caught the gleam of Juliet's crisplinen skirt. Presently she came slowly down. As she turned upon thelanding she met Anthony's eyes looking up. In a fashion quite unusual tothe straightforward gaze of his friend her eyes fell. He saw that hercheeks were pale. He rose to meet her. 

"Come and rest, " he said. "You are tired. You have worked too hard. Such ahelper a man never had before. And you have made a wonderful success. Juliet, I can't thank you. It's beyond that. "

But she would not be led to the cosy corner by the window. She foundsomething needing her attention in the curtain of the bookcase in thedimmest corner of the room, and began solicitously to pull it in variousways, as if there were something wrong with it. He watched her, standingwith his arm on the high chimney-piece. 

"I think you enjoyed it just a little bit yourself, though, " he observed. "Didn't you, chum?"

"Yes, indeed, " said Juliet. 

Her back was toward him, her head bent down, but his quick ear detected apeculiar quality in her voice. He questioned her again hurriedly. 

"You're not sorry you did it?"

"Oh, no, " said Juliet. 

Now there is not much in two such simple replies as these to indicate thestate of one's mind and heart; but when a girl has been crying stormilyand uninterruptedly for a half-hour, and is only not crying still becauseshe is holding back the torrent of her unhappiness by sheer force of will, it is radically impossible to say so much as four words in a perfectlynatural way. Anthony understood in a breath that the unfamiliar note inhis friend's voice was that of tears. And, strange to say, into his facethere flashed a look of triumph. But he only said very gently:

"Come here a minute--will you, Juliet?"

She bent lower over the curtain. Then she stood up, without looking athim, and moved toward the door. 

"I believe I'm rather tired, " she said in a low tone. "It has been so warmall day, and I--I have a headache. "

In three steps he came after her, stopping her with his hand grasping hersas she would have left the room. 

"Come back--please, " he urged. "Your aunt is asleep out there, I think. Iwanted to go over the house once more with you, if you would. But you'retoo tired for that. Just come back and sit down in this nook of yours, andlet's talk a little. "

She could not well refuse, and he put her into a nest of cushions, arranging them carefully behind her back and head, and sat down facingher. He had placed her just where the waning light from the western skyfell full on her face; his own was in the shadow. He was watching herunmercifully--she felt that, and desperately turned her face aside, burying in a friendly pillow the cheek which was colouring under hisgaze. 

"Is the headache so bad?" he asked softly. "I never knew Juliet Marcy tohave a headache before. Poor little girl--dear little girl--who has workedso hard to please her old friend. " He leaned forward and she felt his handupon her hair. The tenderness in his voice and touch were carrying awayall her defences. But he went on without giving her respite. 

"Do you think _she_ will be happy here, chum? Will it take the place ofthe old life for a few years, till I can give her more? She'll havenothing here, you know, outside of this little home, but my love. Thatwouldn't be enough for any ordinary woman, would it?"

She was not looking at him, but she could see him as plainly as if shewere. Always she had thought him the strongest, best fellow she knew. Hehad been her devoted friend so long; she had not realised in the leastuntil lately how it was going to seem to get on without him. But she knewnow. 

She felt a dreadful choking in her throat again. It seemed to be closelyconnected with another peculiar sensation, as if her heart had turned intoa lump of lead. In another minute she knew that she should break down, which would be humiliating beyond words. She started up from her cushionswith a fierce attempt to keep a grip upon herself. 

"I know you're very happy, " she breathed, "and I'm very glad. But reallyI--I'm not at all sentimental to-night. I'm afraid a headache does notmake one sympathetic. "

But she could not get past him; Anthony's stalwart figure barred the way. His strong hands put her gently back among the cushions. She turned herhead away, fighting hard for that thing she could not keep--herself-control. 

"Is it really a headache?" asked the low voice in her ear. "Just aheadache? Not by any chance--a heartache, Juliet?"

"Anthony Robeson!" she cried, but guardedly, lest the open window betrayher. "What do you mean? You say very strange things. Why should I have aheartache? Because you are marrying the girl you love? How often have Ibegged you to go and find her? Do you think I would have done all this forher--and you--if I had cared?"

She tried to look defiantly into his eyes--those fine eyes of his whichwere watching her so intently--tried to meet them steadily with her ownlovely, tear-stained ones--and failed. Swiftly an intense colour dyed hercheeks, and she dropped her head like a guilty child. 

"Of course I care--that is, in a way, " she was somehow forced to admitbefore the bar of his silence. "Why shouldn't I hate to lose the friendwho used to carry my books to school, and fought the other boys for mysake, and has been a brother to me all these years? Of course I do. Andwhen I am tired I cry for nothing--just nothing. I----"

It was certainly a brave attempt at eloquence, but perhaps it was notwonderfully convincing. At all events it did not keep Anthony from takingpossession of one of her hands and interrupting her with a most irrelevantspeech. 

"Juliet, do you remember telling me that you should expect a man who lovedyou to carry your likeness always with him? And you asked me for_hers_--and I had to own I had left it behind. Yet I had one with methen--it is always with me--and that was why I forgot the other. Look. "

He drew out a little silver case, and Juliet, reluctantly releasing oneeye from the shelter of the friendly sofa pillow, saw with a start her ownface look smiling back at her. It was a little picture of her girlish selfwhich she had given him long ago when he went away to college. 

"No, " he said quickly, as he recognised the indignant question whichinstantly showed in her eyes, "I'm not disloyal to Eleanor Langham. Because--dear--there is no such person. "

With a little cry she flung herself away from him among the pillows, hiding her face from sight. There was a moment's silence while AnthonyRobeson, his own face growing pale with the immensity of the stakes forwhich he played, made his last venture. 

"The little home is only for you, Juliet. If you won't share it with me itshall be closed and sold. Perhaps it was an audacious thing to do--it hascome over me a great many times that it was too audacious ever to beforgiven. But I couldn't help the hope that if you should make the homeyourself you might come to feel that life with a man who had his way tomake could be borne after all--if you loved him enough. It all depended onthat. As I said, I didn't mean to be presumptuous, but it was a desperatechance with me, dear. I couldn't give you up, and I thought perhaps--just_perhaps_--you cared--more than you knew. Anyhow--I loved you so--I had torisk it. "

Juliet's charming brown head was buried so deep in the pillows that onlyits back with the masses of waving, half-rumpled hair was visible. But upfrom the depths came a smothered question:

"The photograph?"

Anthony's face lightened as if the sun had struck it, but he kept hisvoice quiet. "Borrowed--it's my old friend Dennison's. I never even sawthe girl--though I ought to beg her pardon for the use I have made of herface. She's married now, and lives abroad somewhere. Will you forgiveme?"

He was standing over her, leaning down so that his cheek touched therumpled hair. "How is it, Juliet? Could you live in the little home--withlove--and me?"

It was a long time before he got any answer. But at last a flushed, wet, radiant face came into view, an arm was reached out, and as with aninarticulate, deep note of joy he drew her up into his embrace, a voice, half tears, half laughter, cried:

"Oh, Tony--you dear, bad, darling, insolent boy! I did think I could dowithout you--but I can't. And--oh, Tony"--she was sobbing in his arms now, while he regarded the top of her head with laughing, exultant eyes--"I'mso glad--so glad--_so glad_--there isn't any Eleanor Langham! Oh, _how_ Ihated her!"

"Did you, sweetheart?" he answered, laughing aloud now. Then bending, withhis lips close to hers--"well, to tell the truth--to tell the honesttruth, little girl--_so did I_!"

VII. --AN ARGUMENT WITHOUT LOGIC

"I don't like it, " repeated Mr. Horatio Marcy, obstinately, and shook hishead for the fifth time. "I've not a word to say against Anthony, mydear--not a word. He's a fine fellow and comes of a good family, and Irespect him and the start he has made since things went to pieces, but----"

Juliet waited, her eyes downcast, her cheeks very much flushed, her mouthin lines of mutiny. 

"But--" her father continued, settling back in his chair with an air ofdecision, "you will certainly make the mistake of your life if you thinkyou can be happy in the sort of existence he offers you. You're not usedto it. You've not been brought up to it. You can spend more money in aforenoon than he can earn in a twelve-month. You don't know how to adaptyourself to life on a basis of rigid economy. I----"

"You don't forbid it, sir?"

"Forbid it?--no. A man can't forbid a twenty-four year old woman to do asshe pleases. But I advise you--I warn you--I ask you seriously to considerwhat it all means. You are used to very many habits of living which willbe entirely beyond Anthony's means for many years to come. You are fond oftravel--of dress--of social----"

"Father dear, " said his daughter, interrupting him gently by a change oftactics. She came to him and sat upon the arm of his chair, and rested hercheek lightly upon the top of his thick, iron-gray locks. --"Let's drop allthis for the present. Let's not discuss it. I want you to do me aparticular favour before we say another word about it. Come with me downto see the house. It's only three hours away. We can go after breakfastto-morrow and be back for dinner at seven. It's all I ask. My argumentsare all there. Please!--_Please!_"

So it came about that at eleven o'clock on a certain morning in August, Mr. Horatio Marcy discovered himself to be eyeing with critical, reluctantgaze a quaintly attractive, low-spreading white house among trees andvines. He became aware at the same time of a sudden close clasp on hisarm. 

"Here it is, " said a low voice in his ear. "Does it look habitable?"

"Very pretty, very pretty, my dear, " Mr. Marcy admitted. No sane man coulddo otherwise. The little house might have been placed very comfortablybetween the walls of the dining-room at the Marcy country house, but therewas an indefinable, undeniable air of gracious hospitality andhomelikeness about its aspect, and its surroundings gave it an appearanceof being ample for the accommodation of any two people not anxious to getaway from each other. 

Juliet produced an antique door-key of a clumsy pattern, and opened thedoor into the living-room. She ran across to the windows and threw themopen, then turned to see what expression might be at the moment illuminingMr. Marcy's face. He was glancing about him with curious eyes, whichrested finally upon the portrait of a courtly gentleman in ruffles andflowing hair, hanging above the fireplace. He adjusted a pair ofeyeglasses and gave the portrait the honour of his serious attention. 

"That is an ancestor, " Juliet explained. "Doesn't he give distinction tothe room? And isn't the room--well--just a little bit distinguished-lookingitself, in spite of its simplicity?--because of it, perhaps. The tablesand most of the chairs are what Anthony found left in the old Kentuckyhomestead after the sale last year, and bought in with--the last of hismoney. " Her eyes were very bright, but her voice was quiet. 

Mr. Marcy looked at the furniture in question, stared at the walls, thenat the rug on the polished floor. The rug held his attention for two longminutes, then he glanced sharply at his daughter. 

"The colourings of that rug are very good, don't you think?" she askedwith composure. "It will last until Anthony can afford a better one. "

Mr. Marcy turned significantly toward the door of the dining-room, andJuliet led him through. He surveyed the room in silence, laying a handupon a chair back; then looked suddenly down at the chair and brought hiseyeglasses to bear upon it. 

"The furniture was made by a country cabinet-maker who charged countryprices for doing it. Tony rubbed in a very thin stain and rubbed the woodin oil afterward till it got this soft polish. "

The visitor looked incredulous, but he accepted the explanation with apolite though exceedingly slight smile. Then he was taken to inspect thekitchen. From here he was led through the pantry back to the living-room, and so upstairs. He looked, still silently, in at the door of each room, exquisite in its dainty readiness for occupancy. As he studied theblue-and-white room his daughter observed that he retained less of the airof the connoisseur than he had elsewhere exhibited. She had shown him thisplace last with artful intent. No room in his own homes of luxury couldappeal to him with more of beauty than was visible here. 

When Mr. Marcy reached the living-room again he found himself placedgently but insistently in the easiest chair the room afforded, close by anopen window through which floated all the soft odours of country airblowing lightly across apple orchards and gardens of old-fashionedflowers. His daughter, bringing from the ingle seat a plump cushion, dropped upon it at his feet. But instead of beginning any sort of argumentshe laid her arm upon his knee, and her head down upon her arm, and becameas still as a kitten who has composed itself for sleep. Only through thecontact of the warm young arm, her father could feel that she was aliveand waiting for his speech. 

When he spoke at last it was with grave quiet, in a gentler tone than thatwhich he had used the day before in his own library. 

"You helped Anthony furnish this house?"

"Yes, father. "

"Do you mind telling me how much you had at your disposal?"

"Five hundred dollars. " Juliet maintained her position without moving, andher face was out of sight. 

"Did this include the repairs upon the place?"

"Yes--but you know wages are low just now and lumber is cheap. Having noroof to the porch made it inexpensive. The painting Anthony helped athimself. He worked every minute of his two weeks' vacation on whateverwould cost most to hire done. "

"Anthony worked at painting the house?" There was astonishment in Mr. Marcy's voice. He had known the Robesons of Kentucky all his life. He hadnever seen one of them lift his hand to do manual labour. There had beenno need. 

"Yes, " said Juliet, and the cheek which rested against her father's kneebegan to grow warm. 

"You have obtained a somewhat extraordinary effect of harmony and comfortinside the house, " Mr. Marcy pursued. "It is difficult to understand justhow you brought it about with so small an expenditure of money. "

It was quite impossible now for Juliet to keep her head down. She lookedup eagerly, but she still managed to speak quietly. 

"It _is_ effect, father, and it is art--not money. The paper on the wallcost twenty-five cents a roll, but it is the right paper for the place, and the wrong paper at ten times that sum wouldn't give the room such abackground of soft restfulness. Then, you see, the old white woodwork isin very good style, and the green walls bring it out. The old floor waseasily dressed to give that beautiful waxed finish. They told me how to dothat at the best decorator's in Boston. The rug fits the colourings verywell. Anthony's old furniture would give any such room dignity. Theportrait lends the finishing touch, I think. You see, when you analyse itall there's nothing in the least wonderful. But it looks like ahome--doesn't it? And when the little things are in which grow in ahome--the photographs, a bowl of sweet-williams from the garden, thelovely old copper lamp you gave me on my birthday--can't you think howdear it will all be?"

Mr. Marcy glanced down keenly into his daughter's face. 

"There are a great many things of your own at home which would naturallycome into your married home, " he said. 

Juliet coloured richly. "Yes, " she answered with steady eyes, "but exceptfor the lamp, and the photographs, and a few such very little things, Ishould not bring them. Anthony is poor, but he is very proud. I couldn'thurt him by furnishing his home with the overflow of mine. Besides--Idon't need those things. I don't want them. All I want out of the old homeis--your love--your blessing, dear!"

The sharp eyes meeting hers softened suddenly. Juliet drew herself to herknees, and leaning forward across her father's lap, reached both arms upand flung them about his neck. He held her close, her head upon hisshoulder, and all at once he found the slender figure in his arms shakenwith feeling. Juliet was not crying, but she was drawing long, deepbreaths like a child who tries to control itself. 

"You need have no doubt of either of those things, my little girl, " saidher father in her ear. "Both are ready. It is only your happiness I want. I distrust the power of any poor man to give it to you. That is all. SinceI have seen this house the question looks less doubtful to me--I admitthat gladly. But I still am anxious for the future. Even in thisattractive place there must be monotony, drudgery, lack of many things youhave always had and felt you must have. You have never learned to dowithout them. I understand that Robeson will not accept them at my hand, nor at yours. I don't know that I think the less of him for that--but--youwill have to learn self-denial. I want you to be very sure that you can doit, and that it will be worth while. "

There was a little silence, then Juliet gently drew herself away and roseto her feet. She stood looking down at the imposing figure of the elderlyman in the chair, and there was something in her face he had never seenthere before. 

"There's just one thing about it, sir, " she said. "I can't possibly spareAnthony Robeson out of my life. I tried to do it, and I know. I wouldrather live it out in this little home--with him--than share the mostpromising future with any other man. But there's this you must remember: Aman who was brought up to do nothing but ride fine horses, and shoot, anddance, must have something in him to go to work and advance, and earnenough to buy even such a home as this, in five years. He has a future ofhis own. "

Mr. Marcy looked thoughtful. "Yes, that may be true, " he said. "I ratherthink it is. "

"And, father----" she bent to lay a roseleaf cheek against his own--"youbegan with mother in a poorer home than this, and were so happy! Don't Iknow that?"

"Yes, yes, dear, " he sighed. "That's true, too. But we were both poor--hadalways been so. It was an advance for us--not a coming down. "

"It's no coming down for me. " There was spirit and fire in the girl's eyesnow. "Just to wear less costly clothes--to walk instead of drive--to liveon simpler food--what are those things? Look at these, " she pointed to therows of books in the bookcases which lined two walls of the room. "I'mmarrying a man of refinement, of family, of the sort of blood that tells. He's an educated man--he loves the things those books stand for. He's goodand strong and fine--and if I'm not safe with him I'll never be safe withanybody. But besides all that--I--I love him with all there is of me. Oh--_are_ you satisfied now?"

Blushing furiously she turned away. Her father got to his feet, stoodlooking after her a moment with something very tender coming into hiseyes, then took a step toward her and gathered her into his arms. 

VIII. --ON ACCOUNT OF THE TEA-KETTLE

"This is the nineteenth day of August, " observed Anthony Robeson. "Wefinished furnishing the house for my future bride on the third day of themonth. Over two weeks have gone by since then. The place must needdusting. "

He glanced casually at the figure in white which sat just above him uponthe step of the great porch at the back of the Marcy country house. It waspast twilight, the moon was not yet up, and only the glow from a distantshaded lamp at the other end of the porch served to give him a hint as tothe expression upon his companion's face. 

"I'm beginning to lie awake nights, " he continued, "trying to rememberjust how my little home looks. I can't recall whether we set thetea-kettle on the stove or left it in the tin-closet. Can you think?"

"You put it on the stove yourself, " said Juliet. "You would have filled itif Auntie Dingley hadn't told you it would rust. "

Anthony swerved about upon the heavy oriental rug, which covered thesteps, until his back rested against the column; he clasped his arms aboutone knee, and inclined his head at the precise angle which would enablehim to study continuously the shadowy outlines of the face above him, shotacross with a ruby ray from the lamp. "I wish I could recollect, " hepursued, "whether I left the porch awning up or down. It has rained threetimes in the two weeks. It ought not to be down. "

"I'm sure it isn't, " Juliet assured him. There was a hint of laughter inher voice. 

"It was rather absurd to put up that awning at all, I suppose. But whenyou can't afford a roof to your piazza, and compromise on an awninginstead, you naturally want to see how it is going to look, and you rushit up. Besides, I think there was a strong impression on my mind that onlya few days intervened before our occupancy of the place. It shows howmisled one can be. "

There was no reply to this observation, made in a depressed tone. After aminute Anthony went on. 

"These cares of the householder--they absorb me. I'm always wondering ifthe lawn needs mowing, and if the new roof leaks. I get anxious about theblinds--do any of them work loose and swing around and bang their livesout in the night? Have the neighbours' chickens rooted up that row ofhollyhock seeds? Then those books I placed on the shelves so hurriedly. Are any of them by chance upside down? Is Volume I. Elbowed by Volume II. Or by Volume VIII. ? And I can't get away to see. Coming up here everySaturday night and tearing back every Sunday midnight takes all my time. "

"You might spend next Sunday in the new house. "

"Alone?"

"Of course. You have so many cares they would keep you from gettinglonely. "

Anthony made no immediate answer to this suggestion, beyond laughing up athis companion in the dim light for an instant, then growing immediatelysober again. But presently he began upon a new aspect of the subject. 

"Juliet, are we to be married in church?"

"Tony!--I don't know. "

"But what do you think?"

"I--don't think. "

"What! Do you mean that?"

"No-o. "

"Of course you don't. Well--what about it?"

"I don't know. "

"Are we to have a big wedding?"

"Do you want one?"

"I--but that's not the question. Do you want a big wedding?"

She hesitated an instant. Then she answered softly, but with decision:"No. "

Anthony drew a long breath. "Thank the Lord!" he said devoutly. 

"Why?" she asked in some surprise. 

"I've never exactly understood why the boys I've been best man for were somiserable over the prospect of a show wedding--but I know now. A runawaymarriage appeals to me now as it never did before. I want to bemarried--tremendously--but I want to get it over. "

A soft laugh answered him. "We'll get it over. "

Anthony sat up suddenly. "Will we?" he asked with eagerness. "When?"

"I didn't say 'when'!"

"Juliet--when are you going to say it?"

"Why, Tony--dear----"

"That's right--put in the 'dear, '" he murmured. "I've heard mighty few of'em yet, and they sound great to me----"

"We've been engaged only two weeks--"

"And two days----"

"And the little house isn't spoiling, even though you're not sure aboutthe tea-kettle and the awning. I--you don't want to hurry things----"

"Don't I!"--rebelliously. 

"If I'm very good and say 'Christmas'----"

"'Christmas!'--Great Cæsar!"

"But, Tony----"

"Now see here--" he leaned forward and stared up at her, without touchingher--he was as yet allowed few of the lover's favours and prized them themore for that--"do you think our case is just like other people's? HereI've been waiting for you all my days--waiting and waiting, and torturedall the time by suspense. Then I lived that month of July with my heart inmy mouth--you'll never know what you put me through those days, talkingand jollying about 'Eleanor Langham, ' and never for one instant, untiljust that last day, giving me the smallest pinch of hope that it wasanything to you except just what it pretended to be. Then--I've been along time without a home--and the little house--sweetheart--it looks likeHeaven to me. Must I stay outside till Christmas--when everything's allready? Confound it--I don't want to play the pathetic string, and the Lordknows I'm happy as a fellow can be who's got the desire of his life. But----"

A warm hand came gently upon his hair, and for joy at the touch he fellsilent. Once he turned his head and put his lips against the white sleeveas it fell near, and looked up an instant with eyes whose expression theperson above him felt rather than saw through the subdued light. By and byshe took up the conversation. 

"So you are rejoiced that I don't want a great wedding?"

"Immensely relieved. "

"What would you like best?"

"I don't dare tell you. "

"You may. "

"Tell me what you would like, Julie. "

"Of course father would say the town house, even if it were a smallaffair. Auntie Dingley would probably agree to having it here--if thatwere what you--we--wanted--that is----"

Anthony looked up quickly. "Even at Christmas?"

"Why--yes. We could come back. People do that sometimes. "

"Yes. Must we do what other people do?"

"Would you rather not?"

"Ten thousand times. It seems to me that the biggest mistake people makeis the way they do this thing. Juliet--think of the little house. We madeit--you made it. For years, without doubt, it's to hold us and ourexperiences. Do you know I'd like to give it this one to begin with?--I'mholding my breath!"

Plainly she was holding hers. Her head was turned away--he could just seeher profile outlined against the ruby light. And at the moment there werefootsteps inside a long French window near at hand which lay open into thelibrary. Mr. Horatio Marcy came out and stood still just behind them. 

Anthony sprang to his feet, and came forward up the steps. The older mangreeted him cordially. Anthony pulled a big chair into position, and Mr. Marcy sat down. He was smoking and wore an air of relaxation. He and hisguest fell to talking, the younger man entering into the conversation withas much ease and spirit as if he were not fresh from what was to him atthis hour a much more interesting discussion. Juliet sat quietly andlistened. 

It grew into an absorbing argument after a little, the two men takingopposite sides of a great governmental question just then claiming publicinterest. Mrs. Dingley came out and joined the group, and she and Julietlistened with increasing delight in a contest of brains such as was nowoffered them. Mr. Marcy himself, while he put forth his arguments withconviction and with skill, was evidently enjoying the keen wit and wisdomof his young opponent. The elder man met objection with objection, set upmen of straw to be knocked down, and ended at last with a hearty laugh anda frankly appreciative:

"Well, Anthony--you have convinced me of one thing, certainly. There aremore sides to the question than I had understood. I will admit that you'vemade a strong argument. But when I come back I'll down you with freshmaterial. I shall have plenty of it. "

"Are you going away soon, sir?" Anthony asked with some surprise. Mr. Marcy was a frequent traveller, preferring to look after various businessinterests in faraway ports himself rather than entrust them to others. 

"Yes--I shall be off in a few weeks--and for a longer time than usual. Ihaven't told these ladies of my household yet--but this is as good a timeas any. Juliet, little girl--I may be gone all winter this time. "

She came quickly to him without speaking, and gave him her regretfulanswer silently. 

"When do you go, Horatio?" Mrs. Dingley asked. 

"About the first of October. I hadn't fully decided till to-day. I hadthought of inviting you two to go with me. "

He looked with a smile at his sister and his daughter, then somewhatquizzically at Anthony. The latter was regarding him with an alert face inwhich, as nearly as could be made out in the dim light, were no signs ofdiscomfiture. 

"Horatio, " said Mrs. Dingley, "I wish you would come into the library fora few minutes. This reminds me of a letter I had to-day from one of yourold friends, asking when you were to be at home. "

The French window closed on the two older people. Juliet, left sitting onthe arm of her father's chair, found Anthony behind her. 

"Do you want to go on a voyage to the Philippines?" he was asking over hershoulder. 

"I'm not sure just what I do want, " she answered rather breathlessly. 

"The tea-kettle would rust while you were gone. "

He got no reply. 

"The dust would grow inches deep on the dining-table we polished socarefully. "

Juliet rose and walked slowly to the edge of the steps. Anthony followed. "Let's go and walk on the terrace, " he proposed, and they ran down to thesmooth sward below. It was a warm night, with no dew, and the short-shavengrass was dry. All the stars were out. Anthony walked beside the figure inwhite, his hands clasped behind his back. 

"Do white ruffled curtains like those at our windows ever grow musty frombeing shut up?" he insinuated gently. 

"I don't know. "

"Will you write from every port you touch at? It will take a good manyletters to satisfy me. "

"I suppose so. "

"Suppose what? That you will write?"

Juliet stood still. "You're the greatest wheedler I ever saw, " she said. 

"Is that a compliment?"

"It's not meant for one. What am I to do when I'm----"

"Married to me?--I don't know, poor child. I can only pity you. What doyou think the prospect is for me, never to be able to get the smallestconcession from you except by every art of coaxing? Yet--if I can get thisthing I want, by any means--I warn you I shall not give up until I've seenyou sail. "

"You'll not see me sail. "

He wheeled upon her. He had her hand in his grasp. "And if you don't go?"

"I'll stay. "

"With me?"

She laughed irresistibly. "How could I stay without you?"

"Will you marry me before your father goes?"

"Oh, Tony, Tony----"

"We can't be married without his blessing, can we?"

"No--dear father. "

"Then----"

"I'll tell you to-morrow, " said she. 

IX. --A BISHOP AND A HAY-WAGON

Juliet Marcy's prospective maid-of-honour found Anthony Robeson's best manat her elbow the moment she entered the waiting-room of the big railwaystation. Now, although she greeted him with a charming little consciouslook, there was nothing either new or singular about the quiet rush he hadmade across the waiting-room the instant he saw her. The rest of the partyof twenty people who were going down into the country to the Marcy-Robesonwedding understood it perfectly, although the engagement had not beenannounced and probably would not be until Wayne Carey should have anincome decidedly larger than he had at present. 

Judith Dearborn joined the group at once, and Carey reluctantly followedher. Judith had a way of joining groups and of giving her betrothed manyimpatient half-hours thereby. 

"Just think of this, " she said to the others. "When I knew Juliet hadreally given in to Anthony Robeson at last I thought I should be asked toassist at an impressive church wedding. But here we are going down to whatTony describes as 'a box of a house' in the most rural of suburbs. If it'sreally as small as he says even twenty people will be a tight fit. "

"How in the world did they come to be married there?" asked the sister ofthe best man. Everybody had been summoned to this wedding so hurriedly andso informally that nobody knew much about it. 

The son of the Bishop--whose father was going down to perform theceremony--answered promptly:

"Tony tells me its Juliet's own choice. You see they furnished the housetogether, with her aunt, Mrs. Dingley; and Juliet fell so in love with itthat she must needs be married in it. What's occurred to that girl I don'tknow. After the Robesons of Kentucky lost their money and everything elsebut their social standing I thought it was all up with Anthony. But he'splucky. He's made a way for himself, and he's won Juliet somehow. He seemsto be a late edition of that obstinate chap who remarked 'I will find away or make one. ' By Jove--he must have made one when he convinced JulietMarcy that she could be happy in a house where twenty people are a tightfit. "

When the train stopped at the small station Judith Dearborn said in WayneCarey's ear, as he glanced wonderingly from the train: "Is this it? JulietMarcy must be perfectly crazy!"

"She certainly must, " admitted Robeson's best man. But he stifled a sigh. If Juliet Marcy could do so crazy a thing as to marry Anthony Robeson onthe comparatively small salary that young man--brought up to do nothing atall--was now earning, why must Wayne Carey wait for several times thatincome before he could have Juliet's closest friend? Was there really sucha difference in girls?

But at the next instant he was shouting hilariously, and so was everybodyelse except the Bishop and the Bishop's wife, who only smiled indulgently. The rest of the party were young people, and their glee brooked norepression. The moment they reached the little platform they comprehendednot only that they were coming to a most informal wedding--they were alsoin for a decidedly novel lark. 

Close to the edge of the platform stood a great hay-wagon, cushioned withfragrant hay and garlanded with goldenrod and purple asters. Standingerect on the front, one hand grasping the reins which reached out over afour-in-hand of big, well-groomed, flower-bedecked farm horses, the otherwaving a triumphant greeting to his friends, was Anthony Robeson, in whitefrom head to foot, his face alight with happiness and fun. He looked likea young king; there could be no other comparison for his splendid outlinesas he towered there. And better yet, he looked as he had ever looked, through prosperity and through poverty, like a "Robeson of Kentucky. "

Below him, prettier than she had ever been--and that was saying much--hereyes brilliant with the spirit of the day, laughing, dressed also inwhite, a big white hat drooping over her brown curls, stood Juliet Marcy. 

In a storm of salutations and congratulations the guests rushed towardthis extraordinary equipage and the radiant pair who were its charioteers. All regrets over the probable commonplaceness of a small country weddinghad vanished. 

[Illustration: "Standing erect ... One hand grasping the reins ... WasAnthony Robeson. "]

"Might have known they would do things up in shape somehow, " grunted theBishop's son approvingly. "This is the stuff. Conventionality be tabooed. They're going to the other extreme, and that's the way to do. If you don'twant an altar and candles, and a high-mucky-muck at the organ, have ahay-wagon. _Gee!_--Let me get up here next to Ben Hur and the lady!"

Even the Bishop, sitting with clerical coat-tails carefully parted, hishandsome face beaming benevolently from under his round hat, and Mrs. Bishop, granted by special dispensation a cushion upon the hay seat, enjoyed that drive. Anthony, plying a long, beribboned lash, aroused hisheavy-footed steeds into an exhilarating trot, and the hay-wagon, carryingsafely its crew of young society people in their gayest mood, swept overthe half-mile from the station to the house like a royal barge. 

As they drew up a chorus of "Oh's!" not merely polite but sincerelysurprised and admiring, recognised the quaint beauty of the little house. It was no commonplace country home now, though the changes wrought hadbeen comparatively slight. It looked as if it might have stood for yearsin just this fashion, yet it was as far removed from its primitivecharacterless condition as may be an artist's drawing of a face upon whichhe has altered but a line. 

Mrs. Dingley and Mr. Horatio Marcy--a pair whose presence anywhere wouldhave been a voucher for the decorum of the most unconventionalproceedings--welcomed the party upon the wide, uncovered porch. 

"We're going to be married very soon, to have it over, " called Anthony. "But you may explore the house first, so your minds shall be at restduring the crisis. Just don't wander too far away in examining thisancestral mansion. There are six rooms. I should advise your going inline, otherwise complications may occur in the upper hall. Please don'tall try to get into the kitchen at once; it can't be done. It will holdJuliet and me at the same time--all the rooms have been stretched to dothat--they had to be; but I'm not sure as to their capacity for more. Nowmake yourselves absolutely at home. The place is yours--for a few hours. After that it's mine--and Juliet's. "

He glanced, laughing, at his bride, as he spoke from where he stood in thedoorway. She was on the little landing of the staircase, at the oppositeend of the living-room. She looked down and across at him, and nearlyeverybody in the room--they were thronging through at the moment--caughtthat glance. She was smiling back at him, and her eyes lingered only aninstant after they met his, but her friends all saw. There could be noquestion that the Juliet Marcy who, since she had laid aside herpinafores, had kept many men at bay, had at last surrendered. As forAnthony----

"Why, he's always been in love with her, " said the Bishop's son in the earof the best man, as in accordance with their host's permission they peepedadmiringly in at the little kitchen, "but any idiot can see that he'sfairly off his feet now. Ideal condition--eh? Say, this dining-room'sgreat--Jove, it is. I'm going to get asked out here to dinner as soon asthey are back. Let's go upstairs. The girls are just coming down--hear 'emgurgling over what they saw?"

Upstairs the best man looked in at the blue-and-white room with eyes whichone with penetration might have said were envious. Indeed, he stared ateverything with much the same expression. He was the soberest man present. Ordinarily he could be counted on to enliven such occasions, but to-dayhis fits of hilarity were only momentary, and during the intervals he wasobserved by the Bishop's son to be gazing somewhat yearningly into spacewith an abstraction new to him. 

Nobody knew just how the moment for the ceremony arrived. But when thesurvey of the house was over and everybody had instinctively come back tothe living-room, the affair was brought about most naturally. The Bishop, at a word from the best man, took his place in the doorway opening uponthe porch, which had been set in a great nodding border of goldenrod. Anthony, making his way among his guests, came with a quiet face up toJuliet and, bending, said softly, "Now, dear?" A hush followed instantly, and the guests fell back to places at the sides of the room. Anthony'sbest man was at his elbow, and the two went over to the Bishop, to standby his side. Mr. Marcy moved quietly into his place. Juliet, with Judith, who had kept beside her, walked across the floor, and Anthony, meetingher, led her a step farther to face the Bishop. It was but a suggestion ofthe usual convention, and Anthony, in his white clothes, surrounded as hewas by men in frock-coats, was assuredly the most unconventionalbridegroom that had ever been seen. Juliet, too, wore the simplest ofwhite gowns, with no other adornment than that of her own beauty. Yet, somehow, as the guests, grown sober in an instant, looked on and notedthese things, there was not one who felt that either grace or dignity waslacking. The rich voice of the Bishop was as impressive as it had everbeen in chancel or at altar; the look on Anthony's face was one whichfitted the tone in which he spoke his vows; and Juliet, giving herself tothe man whose altered fortunes she was agreeing to share, bore aloveliness which made her a bride one would remember long--and envy. 

"There, that's done, " said the Bishop's son with a gusty sigh of relief, which brought the laugh so necessary to the relaxing of the tension whichaccompanies such scenes. "Jove, it's a good thing to see a fellow likeRobeson safely tied up at last. You never can tell where these quixoticideas about houses and hay-wagons and weddings may lead. It's a terriblestrain, though, to see people married. I always tremble like a leaf--Iweigh only a hundred and ninety-eight now, and these things affect me. It's so frightful to think what might happen if they should trip up ontheir specifications. "

There was a simple wedding breakfast served--by whom nobody could tell. Itwas eaten out in the orchard--a pleasant place, for the neglected grasshad been close cut, and an old-fashioned garden at one side perfumed theair with late September flowers. The trim little country maids who broughtthe plates came from a willow-bordered path which led presumably to thenext house, some distance down the road. There were several innovations inthe various dishes, delicious to taste. Altogether it was a little feastwhich everybody enjoyed with unusual zest. And the life of the party wasthe bridegroom. 

"I never saw a fellow able to scintillate like that at his own wedding, "remarked the son of the Bishop to the best man's sister. "Usually they areso completely dashed by their own temerity in getting into such anirretrievable situation that they sit with their ears drooping and theireyes bleared. Do you suppose it's getting married in tennis clothes that'sdone it?"

"Tennis clothes!" cried the best man's sister with a merry laugh. "If yourealised how much handsomer he looks than you men in your frock-coats youwould not make fun. "

"Make fun!" repeated the Bishop's son solemnly. "I joke only to keep myhead above water. I never in my life was so completely submerged in thedesire to get married instantly and live in a picturesque band-box. Nothing can keep me from it longer than it takes to find the girl and theband-box. If--if--" his voice dropped to a whisper, and a hint of rednesscrept into his face which belied his jesting words, "you knew of thegirl--I--er--say--should you mind living in a band-box?"

The best man's sister was the sort of girl who can discern when even aninveterate joker is daring to be somewhat more than half in earnest, andshe flushed so prettily that the son of the Bishop caught her handboyishly under the little table. He had hitherto been considered ahopeless old bachelor, so it may readily be seen that, now the contagionhad caught him, his was quite a serious case. 

X. --ON A THRESHOLD

When it was all over Judith Dearborn went upstairs with Juliet to help herdress for her going away. The maid-of-honour looked about theblue-and-white room with thoughtful eyes. 

"This is certainly the dearest room I ever saw, " she said. "Oh, Juliet, doyou think you really will be happy here?"

"What do you think about it, dear?" asked Juliet. 

"Oh--I--well, really--I never imagined that a little old house like thiscould be made so awfully attractive. But, Juliet--you--you must be very, very fond of Anthony to give up so many things. How well he looked to-day. Seems to me he's grown gloriously in every way since he--since his familycame into so many misfortunes. "

Juliet smiled, but answered nothing. 

"And you're so different, too. Never in my life would I have imagined youhaving a wedding like this--and yet it's been absolutely the prettiest oneI ever saw. That's a sweet gown to go away in--but it's the simplest thingyou ever wore, I'm sure. Juliet, where are you going?"

"We are going to drive through the Berkshires in a cart. "

"Juliet Marcy!"

"'Robeson, '" corrected Juliet with a little laugh, but in a tone which itwas a pity Anthony could not hear. "Don't forget that. I'm so proud of thename. And I think a drive through the Berkshires will be a perfectly idealtrip. "

Judith Dearborn was not assisting the bride at all. Instead she wassitting in a chair, staring at Juliet with much the same abstraction ofmanner observable in the best man throughout the day. 

"Of course you didn't need to live this way, " observed Miss Dearborn atlength. "You could have afforded to live much more expensively. "

"No, I couldn't, " said Juliet with a flash in her eyes, though she smiled;"I couldn't have afforded to do one thing that would hurt Tony's pride. Why, Judith--he's a 'Robeson of Kentucky. '"

"Well, he looks it, " admitted Judith. "And you're a Marcy ofMassachusetts. The two go well together. Juliet, do you know--somehow--Ithought it was a fearful sacrifice you were making, even for such a man asAnthony--but--this blue-and-white room----"

"Ah, this blue-and-white room----" repeated Juliet. Then she came over anddropped on her knees by her friend in her impulsive way and put both armsaround her. The plain little going-away gown touched folds with the onewhose elegance was equalled only by its cost. Anthony Robeson's wifelooked straight up into the eyes of her maid-of-honour and whispered:

"Judith, don't put Wayne--and--your blue-and-white room off too long. Youwill not be any happier to wait--if you love him. "

 * * * * *

Drawn up close to the door stood the cart. Beside it waited Anthony. Around the cart crowded twenty people. When Juliet came through them tosay good-bye the son of the Bishop murmured:

"Er--Mrs. Robeson----"

"Yes, Mr. Farnham----" said Juliet promptly, her delicate flush answeringthe name, as it had answered it many times that day. 

"When are you going to be at home to your friends?"

"The fifteenth day of October, " said Juliet. "And from then on, every dayin the week, every week in the year. Come and see us--everybody. But don'texpect any formal invitations. "

"I'll be down, " declared the Bishop's son. "I'll be down once a week. "

"Please don't stay long after we are gone, " requested Anthony, putting hisbride into the cart and springing in beside her. He gathered up the reins. "Good-bye, " he called. "Take this next train home. It goes in an hour. Lock the door, Carey, and hang the key up in plain sight by the windowthere. We live in the country now, and that's the way we do. Good-bye--good-bye!"

Then he drove rapidly away down the road. 

"And that pair, " said the son of the Bishop gravely, looking after themand speaking to the company in general, "married, so to speak, in ahay-wagon, and going for a wedding trip in a wheel-barrow through theBerkshires, is Juliet Marcy and Anthony Robeson. "

"No, my son, " said the Bishop slowly--and everybody always listened whenthe Bishop spoke: "It is Anthony and Juliet Robeson--and that makes allthe difference. I think two happier young people I never married. And mayGod be with them. "

The best man said that he and the maid-of-honour would walk the half-mileto the station. The son of the Bishop and the sister of the best man hadalready taken this course without saying anything about it. Nearlyeverybody murmured something about it being a lovely evening and aglorious sunset and a charming road, and, pairing off advisedly, adoptedthe same plan. The Bishop and Mrs. Bishop, Mrs. Dingley and Mr. Marcydecided on being driven over to the station in a light surrey provided forthis anticipated emergency. 

The best man and the maid-of-honour succeeded in dropping behind the restof the pedestrians. Their friends were used to that, and let themmercifully alone. 

"Mighty pretty affair, " observed Carey in a melancholy tone. 

"Yes--in its way, " admitted Judith Dearborn with apparent reluctance. 

"Cosy house. "

"Very. "

"Tony seemed happy. "

"Ecstatic. " Judith's inflection was peculiar. 

"Nobody would have suspected Juliet of feeling blue about living offhere. "

"She doesn't seem to. "

"What's made the difference?"

"Anthony Robeson, probably. "

"Must seem pretty good to him to have her care like that. "

"I presume so. "

"It isn't everybody that could inspire such an--affection--in such agirl. "

"No, indeed. "

Carey looked intensely gloomy. The two walked on in silence, Miss Dearbornstudying the sunset, Carey studying Miss Dearborn. Suddenly he spokeagain. 

"Judith, do all our plans for the future seem as desirable to you as theydid this morning?"

"Which ones?"

"Apartment in the locality we've picked out--life in the style thelocality calls for--and _wait_ for it all until I'm _gray_----" with aburst of tremendous energy. "Good heavens, darling, what's the use?Why--if I could have you and a little home like that----"

He bit his lip hard. The maid-of-honour walked on, her head turned stillfarther away than before. They were nearing the station. Just ahead lay aturn in the road--the last turn. The rest of the party, with a shout backat this dilatory pair, disappeared around it. From the distance came thelong, shrill whistle of the approaching train. 

The maid-of-honour glanced behind: there was not a soul in sight; ahead:and saw nothing to alarm a girl with an impulse in her heart. At a pointwhere great masses of reddening sumac hid a little dip in the road fromeverything earthly she stopped suddenly, and turning, put out both hands. She looked up into a face which warmed on the instant into ahalf-incredulous joy and said very gently: "You may. "

 * * * * *

The sun had been gone only two hours, and the soft early autumn darknesshad but lately settled down upon the silent little house, waiting alonefor its owners to come back some October day, when a cart, driven slowly, rolled along the road. In front of the house it stopped. 

"Where are we?" asked Juliet's voice. "This is a private house. I thoughtwe--Why, Tony--do you see?--We've come around in a circle instead of goingon to that little inn you spoke of. This is--_home_!"

"Is it?" said Anthony's voice in a tone of great surprise. "So it is!" Heleaped out and came around to Juliet's side. "What a fluke!" But the happylaugh in his voice betrayed him. 

"Anthony Robeson, " cried Juliet softly, "you need not pretend to besurprised. You meant to do it. "

"Did I?" He reached out both arms to take her down. "Perhaps I did. Do youmind--Mrs. Robeson? Shall we go on?"

Juliet looked down at him. "No, I don't think I mind, " she said. 

He swung her down, and they went slowly up the walk. "Somehow, " saidAnthony Robeson, looking up at the house, lying as if asleep in theSeptember night, "when I thought of taking you to that little public inn, and then remembered that we might have this instead--We can go on with ourwedding journey to-morrow, dear-but--to-night----"

He led her silently upon the porch. He found the key, where in jest he hadbade his best man put it, and unlocked the door and threw it open. 

He stepped first upon the threshold, and, turning, held out his arms. 

"Come, " he said, smiling in the darkness. 

XI. --A BACHELOR AT DINNER

"Hallo there--Anthony Robeson--don't be in such a hurry you can't notice afellow. "

The big figure rushing through the snow paused, wheeled, and thrust out ahand of hearty greeting. "That you, Carey? Hat over your eyes like a trainrobber--electric lights all behind you--and you expect me to smile at youas I go by! How are you? How's Judith?"

"Infernally lonely--I mean I am--Judith's off on a visit to her mother. Say, Tony--take me home with you--will you? I want some decent things toeat, so I'm holding you up on purpose. "

"Good--come on. Train goes in a few minutes. Juliet will be delighted. "

The two hurried on together into the station from which the suburbantrains were constantly leaving. As they entered they encountered a mutualfriend, at whom both flung themselves enthusiastically with alternategreetings:

"Roger Barnes----"

"Roger--old fellow--glad to see you back!"

"Patient safely landed?"

"Get a big fee?"

"Where you going?"

"Let's take him home with us, Tony----" The third man looked smiling atTony. "I'll challenge you to, " said he. 

"That's easy--come on, " responded Anthony Robeson with cordiality. "I'lljust telephone Mrs. Robeson. "

"That's it, " said Dr. Roger Barnes. "You don't dare not to. I understand. Go ahead. But if she's too much dashed let me know, will you?"

Anthony turned, laughing, into a telephone closet, from which he emergedin time to catch his train with his guests. 

"It's all right, " he assured them. "But it's only fair to let her know afew minutes ahead. You like to understand, Roger, before you start, don'tyou, whether your emergency case is a hip-fracture or a cut lip, so youcan tell whether to take your glue or your sewing-silk?"

"By all means, " said the bachelor of the party. "And I suppose you thinkMrs. Juliet Marcy Robeson is now smiling happily to herself over thislittle surprise. I'll lay you anything you please that if I can make herown up she'll admit that she said '_Merciful heavens!_' into the telephonewhen she got your message. "

Anthony shook his head. "Evidently you don't know what guests in theremote suburbs on a stormy February night mean to a poor girl whosenearest neighbour is five hundred feet away. Your ideas of married lifeneed a little freshening, too. They're pretty antique. "

It was a half-mile from the station to the house--the "box of ahouse"--which had been Anthony's home for five months, and toward which henow led his friends with the air of a man about to show his most treasuredpossessions. He strode through the deepening snow as if he enjoyed thestrenuous tramp, setting a pace which Wayne Carey, with his office life, if not the doctor, more vigorously built and bred, found difficult tomaintain. 

"Here we are, " called the leader, pointing toward windows glowing with aruddy light. The doctor looked up with interest. Carey was a frequentvisitor, but the busy surgeon, old school-and-college chum of Anthony'sthough he was, was about to have his first introduction to a place ofwhich he had heard much, but of whose nearness to Paradise he doubted withthe strong skepticism of a man who has seen many a fair beginning end inall unhappiness and desolation. 

As they stamped upon the little porch the door flew open, the brilliancyand comfort of a fire-and-lamplit room leaped out at them, a deliciousfaint odour of cookery assailed their hungry nostrils, and the welcomewhich makes all worth having met them on the threshold. 

"Wayne, " said the rich young voice of the mistress of the house, "I'm soglad. Roger Barnes, this is just downright good of you; it's so longyou've promised us this. Tony----"

What she said to Tony must have been whispered in his ear if voiced atall, for the two guests, looking on with laughing, envious eyes, saw theirhostess swept unceremoniously into a bearlike embrace, swung into the airas one thrusts up a child, poised there an instant, laughing andprotesting, then slowly lowered to be kissed, and set down once morelightly upon the floor. 

"It's all right. I didn't tumble your hair a bit, " said Anthony coolly. "Excuse me, gentlemen, but Wayne understands--and Roger will some day, Ihope--that a man who has been thinking about it all the way home can't putit off on account of a couple of idiots who stand and stare instead ofpolitely turning their backs. Oh, don't mention it--it doesn't disturb meat all; and Mrs. Robeson is becoming reconciled to my impetuosity bydegrees. Make yourselves at home, boys. Juliet----"

"Take them upstairs, Tony, please. Of course we can't let them go backto-night, now we have them. It's beginning to storm heavily, isn't it? Ithought so. Take them to the guest-room, Tony--and dinner will be servedas soon as you are down. "

 * * * * *

"By Jupiter, I believe she means it, " declared the doctor, with approval, as the door of the bedroom closed on his host. "I think I can tell when awoman is shamming. She's improved, hasn't she, tremendously? Pretty girlalways, but--well--bloomed now. Nice little house. Believe I'll have tostay, though I ought not--just to take observations on Tony. Hisenthusiasm has all the appearance of reality. In fact, it strikes me hehas rather----"

It was on his lips to say "rather more than you have, " but it occurred tohim in time that jokes on this ground are dangerous. Wayne Carey had beenmarried in November, was living in a somewhat unpretentious way in adowntown boarding-house, and certainly had to-night so much of a lost-dogair that it made the doctor pause. So he substituted: "--rather more thanI should have expected, even of a fellow who has got the girl he haswanted all his life, " and fell to washing and brushing vigorously, eyeingmeanwhile the little room with a critical bachelor's appreciation ofbeauty and comfort in the quarters he is to occupy. It was very simplyfurnished, certainly, but it struck him as a place where his dreams werelikely to be pleasant for every reason in the world. 

Downstairs, Juliet, in the dining-room, was surveying her table with thehostess's satisfaction. Opposite her stood a tall and slender girl, black-haired, black-eyed, with a face of great attractiveness. 

"I wish, Mrs. Robeson, " she was saying eagerly, "you would let me serveyou as your maid, and not make a guest of me. Really, I should love to doit. I don't need to meet your friends, and I don't mind seeming what Ireally am--your----"

"Rachel Redding, " Juliet interrupted, lifting an affectionate glanceacross the table, "if you want to seem what you really are--my friend--youwill let me do as I like. "

"My shabby clothes----" murmured the girl. 

"If I could look as much like a princess as you do in them----"

"Mrs. Robeson, in that lovely dull red you're a queen----"

"--dowager, " finished Juliet gayly. "Well, I'll be proud of you, and youcan be proud of me, if you like, and together we'll make those hungry menthink there's nothing like us. The dinner's the thing. Isn't it theluckiest chance in the world I sent for those oysters this morning? DoctorBarnes is perfectly fine, but he never would believe in the happiness ofmarried life if the coffee were poor or the beefsteak too much broiled. Doesn't the table look pretty? Those red geranium blossoms you brought megive it just the gay touch it needed this winter night. "

 * * * * *

Three men, standing about the wide fireplace, warming cold hands at itsfriendly blaze, turned expectantly as their youthful hostess came in, followed by a graceful girl in gray. Juliet presented her guests with theair of conferring upon them a favour, and they seemed quite ready toaccept it as such. 

Anthony looked on with interest to see a person whom he had known hithertoonly as a pretty but poor young neighbour whom Juliet had engaged to helpher for a certain part of every day, introduced as his wife's friend, andgreeted by Doctor Barnes and Wayne Carey with quite evident admiration andpleasure. He looked hard at her, as Carey seated her, noticing for thefirst time that she was really worth consideration, and rememberingvaguely that Juliet had more than once tried to impress him with the fact. If it had not been for the other fellows, with whose eyes as their host hewas now stimulated to observe her, he might have been still some timelonger in coming to the realisation that Juliet had found somebody in whomher genuine interest was not misplaced. But Anthony Robeson had all hislife been singularly blind to the fascinations of most other women thanJuliet. As he turned his keen gaze from Rachel Redding to the charmingfigure that sat on the other side of the table the satisfaction in hiseyes became so pronounced that it could mean, Dr. Roger Barnes admitted tohimself, as he caught it, nothing less than a very real happiness. 

It was not an elaborate dinner. It was not by any means the sort of dinnerJuliet might have prepared had she known that morning whom she was toentertain. It was merely a dinner planned with affectionate care to pleaseand satisfy one hungry man who liked good things to eat--and amplified asmuch as possible in quantity after Anthony's message reached her. And bythat admirable collusion between hostess and feminine friend which cansometimes be effected when the situation demands it, the dinner preparedfor three seemed ample for five. 

[Illustration: "Three men, standing about the wide fireplace ... Turnedexpectantly as their youthful hostess came in, followed by agraceful girl in gray. "]

Between them Juliet and Rachel Redding served the various dishes andchanged the plates which Anthony handed from his place. It was gracefullydone and so simply that the absence of a maid was a thing to be enjoyedrather than regretted. When Juliet, in the softly sweeping dull-red frockwhich made of her a warm picture for a winter's night, slipped from herchair and moved about the room, or brought in from the kitchen a steamingdish, she seemed the ideal hostess, herself bestowing what her own handshad prepared. And when Rachel Redding offered a man a cup of fragrantcoffee, smiling down in the general direction of his uplifted face withoutmeeting his eyes, there was certainly nothing lost from his enjoyment ofthe beverage. 

"Say, but this dinner has tasted just about right, " was Wayne Carey'ssatisfied observation as he leaned back in his chair at last, afterdraining his third cup of coffee--and the pot itself, if he had but knownit. 

"Went to the spot?" asked Anthony, leaning back also with the expressionof the friendly host. He was young to cultivate that expression, but heappeared to find no difficulty about it. 

"It did--every last mouthful. "

"Good. Now, if you fellows will come back to the fire and have a pipefulof talk we shall not be missed. In this house on ordinary occasions wereverse the order of after-dinner privileges--the men retire to theatmosphere of the sofa-pillows, and the women--I'm not allowed to tellwhat they do. But after remaining discreetly out of sight for some littletime, during which faint sounds as of the rattle of china penetratethrough closed doors, they reappear, pleasantly flushed and full of a sortof relieved joy. "

"I know what I wish, " said Roger Barnes, looking back from the dining-roomdoorway at young Mrs. Robeson; "I wish that when the dishes are all readyyou would let me know. I should like nothing better than to have adish-towel at them. I know all about it--my mother taught me how. "

He looked so precisely as if he meant it, and the glance he sent pastJuliet at Rachel Redding was so suggestive of his dislike to be separatedfor the coming hour from the feminine portion of the household, that hishostess answered promptly: "Of course you may. We never refuse an offerlike that. We will try you--on promise of good behaviour. "

XII. --THE BACHELOR BEGS A DISH-TOWEL

When the door closed on the three Juliet produced from somewhere twoaprons--attractive affairs on the pinafore order--one of which she slippedupon Rachel, the other donned herself. 

"These are my kitchen party-aprons, " she said gayly, noting how the prettygarment became the girl, "calculated to impress the masculine mind withthe charm of domesticity in women. The doctor needs a little illustratedlesson of the sort. Life in boarding-houses isn't adapted to encourage aman in the belief that real comfort is to be found anywhere outside of abachelor's club. "

Before he was called the doctor forsook a half-smoked cigar and theseductive hollows of Anthony's easiest chair and marched briskly out tothe kitchen. 

"You see I distrust you, " he announced, putting in his head at the door. "I'm afraid you will get them all done without me. "

"Not a bit of it. Here you are, " and Juliet tied a big white apron about alarge-sized waist. "Here's your towel. No, don't touch the glass; a man istoo unconscious of his strength. "

"A surgeon?" demurred Rachel softly, from over her steaming dishpan. 

"Thank you, Miss Redding, " said the doctor, smiling. 

"Ah, how stupid of me, " Juliet made amends swiftly. "Miss Reddingremembers that when I got my telephone message to-night I told her thatthe most distinguished young specialist in the city was coming here todinner. A hand trained to such delicate tasks as those of surgery--here, Dr. Roger Barnes, forgive me, and wipe my most precious goblets. "

"You'll have my nerves unsteady with such speeches as that, " said he, buthe accepted the trust. He held the goblets and the other daintily cut andengraved pieces of glass with evident pleasure in the task. 

Meanwhile Juliet and Rachel made rapid work of the greater part of thedishes, handling thin china with the dexterity of housewives who lovetheir work--and their china. Talk and laughter flowed brightly through itall, and when the doctor had finished his glass he looked disappointed atseeing not much left to do. At the moment Rachel was scrubbing andscraping a big baking-dish, portions of whose surface strongly resistedher efforts, in spite of previous soaking. The assistant, looking abouthim for new worlds to conquer, fell upon this dish. 

"Here, here, " said he, "let me have it. I'll use on it some of theunconscious strength Mrs. Robeson credits me with. "

But Rachel clung to the dish. "Proper housekeepers, " she averred, "alwayssay 'That's all, thank you, ' as soon as the china is done, and finish thepots and kettles after the guest has gone back to pleasanter things. "

"I see. Did you ever have a man for dish-wiper before?"

"Never a surgeon, " admitted Miss Redding. 

"Then you don't appreciate the fact that a man likes to do big thingswhich make the most show and get the credit for them. "

He took the dish away from her by a dexterous little twist in whichconscious strength certainly asserted itself. Rachel, laughing, with adash of colour in cheeks which were normally of dark ivory tints, acceptedthe dish-towel he handed her. 

 * * * * *

"Hallo, there, " cried Wayne Carey's voice from the door. "You're havingmore fun out here than we are in there, and that's not fair. The lord ofthe manor is getting so chesty over the delights of a country home in aFebruary snowbank that he's becoming heavy company. "

"No room for you here, " returned the doctor, removing with a flourish thelast candied sugar lump from the bottom of the big dish, and beginning toswash about vigorously in the hot water. "We do something besides talk outhere; we work. Our kitchen is so small we have to waste no time in steps;as we dry the things we chuck them straight into their places. "

Suiting the action to the word he caught up a shining cake-tin and cast itstraight at Carey. That gentleman dodged, but Anthony caught it, performedupon it an imitation of the cymbals, then turned about and laid it in anest of similar tins upon a shelf in an open closet. 

"Ah, but I'm well trained, " he boasted. 

"If you were you wouldn't put it away wet, " observed Rachel slyly. 

Anthony withdrew the tin, wiped it with much solicitude, and replaced it. 

"These little technicalities are beyond me, " he apologised. "Your realathlete in kitchen work is your scientific man. See him dry that bean-potwith the glass-towel. Now, I know better than that. "

"Go away, all of you, " commanded the mistress of the place. "Go back tothe fire and we'll join you. If you are very good we'll bring you aspecial treat by-and-by. "

"That settles it, " said the doctor, and led the retreat, but not without abackward glance at the little kitchen. 

Juliet had gone into the dining-room with a trayful of glass and silver. Rachel Redding was plunging half a dozen white towels into a pan ofsteaming water. Barnes stood an instant, staring hard at the slenderfigure in the white pinafore, the round young arms gleaming in thelamplight--then he turned to follow the others. There are some pictureswhich linger long in a man's memory; why, he can hardly tell. With all hisvaried experiences Dr. Roger Barnes had never before discovered howattractive a background a well-kept kitchen makes for a beautiful woman, so that she be there mistress of the situation. Long after he had goneback to the fire his absent eyes, while the others talked, were studyingthe--to him--unaccustomed and singularly charming scene he had just leftin the kitchen. 

When Juliet and Rachel came in at length they found a plan afoot for theirentertainment. Wayne Carey was standing at the window showing cause whythe whole party should go out and coast upon the hill near by. 

"You admit, " he argued with Anthony, "that you know where we can get apair of bobs--and if you can't I'll bribe some of those youngsters outthere to let us have theirs. The storm has stopped; the boys have sweptoff the whole hill, I should judge, by the way their track shines againunder the moonlight. I haven't had a good coast since I left college. "

He turned to Juliet. "Will you go?" he asked coaxingly. 

"Of course we will, " promised Juliet. "Tony wants to go--he's justenjoying making you tease. As for the doctor----"

"If my right hand has not forgot her cunning, " he agreed. 

In ten minutes the party was off. A young matron of five months' standingis not so materially changed from the girl she used to be that she canfail to be the gayest of company, perhaps with the more zest that the oldgood times seem a bit far away already and she is glad to bring themback. 

As for the real girl of the party, in this case it chanced to be a countrylass who had been away to school and half-way through college, had beenbrought home by love and duty to some elderly people who needed her, andhad known many hours of stifled longing for the sort of companionship withwhich she had grown happily familiar. 

Matron and maid--they were a pair for whose sakes the men who were withthem gladly made slaves of themselves to give them an evening of gloriousoutdoor fun--and at small sacrifice. 

 * * * * *

"What a night!" exulted the doctor, striding up the long hill besideRachel Redding breathing deep. "I'm thanking all my lucky stars that theyled my path across Anthony Robeson's to-night. I've been intending to comeout here ever since he was married--and might not have done it for anothersix months if I hadn't got started. He'll have all he wants of me now. It's the most delightful spot I've been in for many moons. "

"It is a dear little home, " agreed Rachel warmly. "Mrs. Robeson would makethe most commonplace house in the world one where everybody would want tocome. "

"That's evident. Yet, somehow, knowing her well as a girl, I never shouldhave suspected just those home-making qualities. You didn't know her then, I suppose? She was a girl other girls liked heartily, and menenthusiastically--one of the 'I'll be a good friend, but don't come toonear' sort, you know. But she was very fond of travel and change, readyfor everything in the way of sport--and, well, I certainly never saw herbefore in anything resembling an apron of any description. What adelightful article of attire an apron is, anyhow. I think I neverappreciated it before to-night. "

"That's because you never saw one of Mrs. Robeson's aprons. Hers are notlike other people's. "

"She makes hers poetic, does she?"

"She certainly does--even the ones for baking and sweeping. Not ruffled orberibboned, but cut with an eye to attractiveness, and always of becomingcolour. "

"I see. She's an artist--that was noticeable in the oysters--if she madethe dish. "

"Of course she did. "

"The coffee was the best I ever drank. "

"Was it?"

"You made that, then, " remarked the doctor astutely. 

"I'm glad it was good, " said Rachel demurely. 

They had reached the top of the hill. Doctor Barnes insisted that Anthonyhad been the best steerer of coasting parties known to the juvenile world, and placed him at the helm. Next came Juliet, with both arms clasped asfar about her husband's stalwart frame as they would go. Carey had wantedto be the end man, but Doctor Barnes would have none of it. "You have totake care of Mrs. Robeson, " he said firmly, and placed him next. Thisbrought Miss Redding last, and Dr. Roger Barnes, knowing man, as hanger-onbehind upon bobs already fairly full. The last man, as every coasterunderstands, has to be alert to help out any possible bad steering, and sokeeps a watchful head thrust half over the shoulder in front. 

The foregoing explanation will show how it came about that all down thelong, swift descent, Rachel, breathless with the unaccustomed delight ofthe flight, felt upon her cheek a warm breath, and was conscious of a mostextraordinary nearness of the lips which kept saying merry things into herear. The ear itself grew warm before the bottom of the track was reached. 

"That was a great coast, " cried the doctor as they reached the end of thelong slide. "Now for another. I'm a boy again. This beats the best thing Icould have had in town if I hadn't run across Anthony. "

So they had another--and another--and one more. Then Rachel Redding, stopping in front of a small house which lay at the foot of the hill, saidgood-night to them and slipped away before Barnes had realised what hadhappened. 

 * * * * *

"Does she live there?" he questioned Juliet, as the four who were leftmoved on toward home. Anthony and Wayne were discussing a subject on whichthey had differed at the top of the hill. "Somehow, I got the impressionshe lived with you. "

"No--but she comes over a good deal. I couldn't get on without her. "

"As a friend?"

Juliet looked up at him. "I think it would be better that you should know, Roger, " she said, "and I'm sure Miss Redding herself would prefer it--thatI pay her for several hours a day of regular work. You've only to see herto understand that she does this simply because it's the only thing opento her as long as her father and mother can't spare her to go away. Shegave up her college course in the middle because she said they were piningto death for her. They are in very greatly reduced circumstances, after alifetime of prosperity. She's a rare creature--I'm learning to appreciateher more every day. She's never said a word about her loneliness here, butit shows in her eyes. It's a perfect delight to me to have her with me, and I mean to give her all the fun I can. For all that demure manner andher Madonna face she's as full of mischief as a kitten when somethingstarts her off. "

"Juliet, " said the doctor soberly, turning to look searchingly down at herin the moonlight, "would you be willing to let me come often?"

Juliet looked up quickly. "So that you may see her?" she askedstraightforwardly. 

"Yes. I won't pretend it's anything else. I can tell you honestly that ifthere were no other reason I should want to come because of my oldfriendship for you and Anthony, and because this evening in your littlehome has given me a rare pleasure. I know of no place like it. But I'lltell you squarely that I want the chance to meet your friend often and atonce. If I don't you will have other people coming out from town----"

"Yes, " said Juliet, and something in the way she said it made him askquickly: "Has that already happened? Am I too late?"

"I don't know whether you're too late, but I know that we've suddenlygrown most attractive to another man from town. If you had gone intoRachel's home the odour of violets would have met you at the door. Hesends them every few days. "

"_Ah!_" said the doctor. It was not much of a comment, but it spokevolumes. He had been keen before--he was determined now. Violets--well, there were rarer flowers than those. 

XIII. --SMOKE AND TALK

At the house there remained for the guests an hour before the fire, whereJuliet brought in something hot and sweet and sour and spicy, which tasteddelicious and brought her a shower of compliments while they drank afriendly draught to her. When she had left them, standing in an admiringgroup on the hearth-rug and wishing her happy dreams, they settled intoluxurious positions of ease before the fire--a fire in the last stages ofred comfort before it dies into a smoulder of torrid ashes. 

"Anthony Robeson, " said Wayne Carey, regarding the andirons fixedly overhis bed-time pipe, "you're a happy man. "

Anthony laughed contentedly. He had thrown himself down upon thehearth-rug with his head on a pillow pulled from the settle, and lay flaton his back with his hands clasped behind his neck. It was an attitudedeeply expressive of masculine comfort. 

"You're exactly right, " said he. "And you would be the same if you wouldgive up living in that infernal boarding-house. What do you want to foolwith your first year of married life like that for? You told me thatJudith was bowled over by our wedding, and was ready to go in for thissort of thing with a will. "

"I know it, " admitted Carey, "but"--he spoke hesitatingly--"we couldn'tseem to find this sort of thing. You had corralled all there was. "

"Nonsense. "

"You had. Everything we looked at was so old and mouldy, or so new andinartistic, or so high-priced, or so far away--well, we couldn't seem toget at it, so we said we'd board a while and wait until we could lookaround. "

"How does it work?"

"Why, I suppose it works very well, " said Carey cautiously. "Judith seemscontented. We have as good meals as the average in such houses, and thepeople are rather a nice lot. We're invited around quite a good deal, andJudith likes that. I ought to like it better than I do, somehow. I'm soconfoundedly tired when I get home nights I can't help thinking of you andJuliet here in this jolly room. There's an abominable blue and yellowwall-paper on our sitting-room--and it has a way of appearing to turnseasick in the evening under the electrics. Sometimes I think it's thatthat makes me feel----"

"Seasick, too?" inquired the doctor with his professional air. He wasstanding with his arm on the chimney-piece, looking alternately down onhis friends and around the long, low room. It _was_ a jolly room--the veryessence of comfort and cosiness. It was a beautiful room, too, in a simpleway; one which satisfied his sense of harmony in colours and fabrics--akeen sense with him, as it is apt to be with men of his profession. 

"Judith likes this, too, you know, " Carey went on loyally. "She thinksit's great. But how to get it for ourselves--that's another matter. Somehow, you were lucky. "

"Did you ever happen to see, " asked Anthony, "a photograph I took, justfor fun, of this house as it was when Juliet saw it first? No? Well, justlook in that box on the end of the farther bookcase, will you? It's nearthe top--there--that's it. "

He lay looking up through half-closed lashes at the two men as theystudied the photograph, the doctor leaning over Carey's shoulder. 

"On your word, man, did it look like that?" cried Barnes. 

"Just like that. "

"Yes, I've heard it did, " admitted Carey; "but I never quite believed itcould have been as bad as that. "

"Who planned it all?" the doctor asked, getting possession of thephotograph as Carey laid it down, and giving it careful scrutiny. 

"My little home-maker. "

"Jove--are there any more like her?"

"They're pretty rare, I understand. Juliet has one in training--one with agood deal of native capacity, I should judge. "

"Let me know when her graduation day approaches, " remarked the doctor. 

 * * * * *

When he fell asleep that night in the dainty guest-room Barnes waswondering whether Mrs. Robeson got her own breakfasts, and hoping that shecertainly did not, at least when guests were in the house. He was downhalf an hour earlier than necessary, and to his great satisfaction found aslender figure brushing up ashes and setting the fireplace in order forthe morning fire. As he begged leave to help he noted the satin smoothnessof Miss Redding's heavy black hair and the trim perfection of her attire. She reminded him of his hospital nurses in their immaculate blue andwhite. When he saw the mistress of the house and found her similarlydressed a certain skepticism grew in his mind. 

When he went out to breakfast he murmured in Anthony's ear: "Just tell me, old fellow--to satisfy the curiosity of a bachelor--do these girls of yourhousehold always look like this in the early morning? I know it'smean--but you will know how to evade me if I'm too impertinent----"

Anthony glanced from Juliet, resembling a pink carnation in her washfrock--February though it was--to Rachel Redding in dark blue and white, and smiled mischievously. "Mrs. Robeson--and Miss Redding--you arechallenged, " he announced. "Here's a fine old chump who has an awfulsuspicion that maybe when there are no guests you come down in calicowrappers with day-before-yesterday's aprons on. "

Juliet gave the doctor a glance which made him pretend to shrink behindCarey for protection. "Will you please answer him, Tony?" she said. 

"On my word and honour, Roger Barnes, then, " said Anthony proudly, "theyalways look like this. "

When the doctor left he was weighing carefully in his mind an urgentproblem: After waiting six months before making his first visit at theRobesons, how soon could he decently come again?

XIV. --STRAWBERRIES

"Here are yer strawberries, ma'm. "

Juliet, alone in her little kitchen, ran to the door in dismay. She lookeddown at a freckle-faced boy carrying a big basket filled withstrawberry-boxes. 

"But my order was for next Wednesday, " she said. 

"Well, Pa said he cal'lated you'd ruther have 'em when they was at thebest, an' that's now. This hot weather's a dryin' 'em up. May not be anygood ones by Wednesday. "

Every housekeeper knows that if there is one thing particularly liable tohappen it is the arrival of fruit for preserving at the most inopportunemoment of the week. It matters little what the excuse of the sender maybe--there is always a sufficient reason why the original date set by thebuyer has been ignored. In this case the strawberries had been engagedfrom a neighbour, and Juliet understood at once that she must not refuseto take them. 

She stood looking at the rows of baskets upon the table, when the boy hadplaced them there and gone whistling away. She was in the midst of aflurry of work. It was Saturday, and she was cooking and baking, puttingtogether various dishes to be used upon the morrow. Mr. Horatio Marcy hadlately returned from abroad. He and Mrs. Dingley were to spend the comingSabbath with Juliet and Anthony--the first occasion on which Juliet'sfather should be entertained in the house. It was an event of importance, and his daughter meant to show him several things concerning her fitnessfor her present position. 

Rachel Redding was not available upon this Saturday morning. Her motherhad been taken seriously ill the night before, and Rachel had sent wordthat she could not leave her. Juliet had not minded much, although it wasa day when Rachel's help would have been especially acceptable. As it was, she had reached a point where her housewifely marshalling of the day'swork was at a critical stage. A cake had been put into the oven. A largebowl of soup stock had been brought from a cool retreat to have the smoothcoating of fat removed from its surface. Various other dishes, in processof construction, awaited the skilled touch of the cook. 

"I shall have to do them, I suppose, " said Mrs. Robeson to herself, regarding the strawberries with a disapproving eye. "But _why_ they had tocome to-day----"

She went at the strawberries, wishing she had ordered less. They were fineberries--on top; by degrees, as the boxes lowered, they became less fine. It seemed desirable to separate the superior from the inferior and treatthem differently. Only the best would do for the delectable preserve whichwas to go into glasses and be served on special occasions; the otherscould be made into jam less attractive to the eye if hardly lessacceptable to the palate. Juliet was obliged to put down her berry-boxesevery fifth minute to attend to one or other of the various saucepans anddouble-boilers upon the little range. Her cheeks grew flushed, for the daywas hot and the kitchen hotter. It must be admitted that her occasionalglance out over the green fields and the woods beyond was a longing one. 

The better selection of the berries went into the clear syrup in thepreserving-kettle. Juliet flew to get her glass pots ready. She stopped tostir something in a saucepan. She thrust some eggs into the smallice-chest to cool them for the salad dressing soon to be made. She keptone eye on the clock, for the strawberry preserve had to be timed to aminute--ten, no more, no less. It was a strenuous hour. 

As she dipped up the fourth ladleful of crimson richness--translucent as achurch window--and filled the waiting jar, a peculiar pungent odourdrifted across the fragrance of the strawberries. Juliet dropped her ladleand pulled open the oven door. 

The delicate cake which she had compounded with especial care because itwas Mrs. Dingley's favourite, lay a blackened ruin. Some of it had runover upon the oven bottom and become a mass of cinders. Juliet jerked thecake-tin out into the daylight and shut the oven door with a slam. 

It was at this unpropitious moment that a figure appeared in thedoorway--a tall, slim figure, in crisp, cool, white linen. A charmingwhite hat surmounted Mrs. Wayne Carey's carefully ordered hair, a whiteparasol in her hands completed a particularly chaste and appropriatemorning toilette for a young woman who had nothing to do with kitchens. 

She was regarding with interest the young person at the range. Juliet woreone of her characteristic working frocks, and the big pinafore whichenveloped it from head to foot was of an attractive design. But themorning's flurry had set its signs upon her, and the pinafore was not asimmaculate as it had been three hours earlier. Her hair, curling moistlyabout her flushed face, had been impatiently pushed back more than once, and its disorder, while not unpicturesque, was suggestive of a somewhatperturbed mind. Her hands were pink with strawberry juice. She lookedwarm, tired, and--if the truth must be told--at the moment not a littleout of temper. The smile with which she welcomed her friend could hardlybe said to be one of absolute pleasure. 

"I'm afraid I've come at the wrong time, " said Judith, regretfully. "Didyou just burn something? Too bad. I suppose all young housekeepers dothat. Where's your--assistant?"

"She's not here to-day, " said Juliet, ladling up strawberry preserve withmore haste than caution. Her fingers shook a little but she kept her voicetranquil. "It's all right. A number of things had to be done at once, that's all. Please don't stay in this hot place. Take off your hat andfind a cool corner somewhere in the house. I'll be in presently. "

"I mustn't bother you. I was going to stay for lunch with you, it was sohot in town, but I mustn't think of it when you're so----"

"Of course you'll stay, " said Juliet with decision. "What you see beforeyou is only the smoke of battle. It will soon clear away. Run off--andI'll be with you presently. You'll find the late magazines in theliving-room. "

Her tone was intended to deceive and it was sufficiently successful. Judith was anxious to stay. She was also interested in the situation. Shehad heard much from Wayne in praise of Juliet's successful housekeeping, and had seen enough of it herself to be curious about its inner workings. For the first time she had happened upon a scene which would seem toindicate that there were phases in this sort of domestic life less idealthan she was asked to believe. She went back into the coolness and quietof the living-room with a full appreciation of the fact that no hotkitchens ever threatened her own peace of mind. 

Juliet finished her strawberry preserve, saw that everything liable toburn was removed to safe quarters; then deliberately took off her apronand stole out of the kitchen door. She went swiftly down through theorchard to the willow-bordered path by the brook; then, out of sight ofeverything human, ran several rods down it with a sweep of skirts whichput everything in the bird creation to flight. At a certain pleasant spotamong the willows, sheltered from all possible observation, she paused andflung herself down upon the warm ground. 

But not in any attitude of despair. Neither did she cry tears of vexationand weariness. She was a healthy girl, with the perfect physical beingwhose poise is not upset by so small a matter as a fatiguing morning. Because a cake had burned, an extra amount of work had had to be conqueredand an unexpected guest had arrived, her nerves were not worn to therending point. But, having been reared in the belief that a breath ofoutdoors is the great antidote for all physical or mental discomforts bornof confinement indoors, she had acquired a habit of running away from hercares at any and all times of day in precisely this fashion--and many werethe advantages she had reaped from this somewhat unusual course ofprocedure. 

Mrs. Anthony Robeson lay upon one side, her arm outstretched, her cheekpillowed upon her arm. She was drawing long, deep breaths, and lookinglazily off at a stretch of blue sky cleft in the exact centre by one greatgraceful elm tree. One would have thought she had forgotten every care inthe world, not to mention the guest from the city waiting expectantly forher hostess to appear. After ten minutes of this sort of indolence thefigure in the blue and white print dress sat up, clasped both arms abouther knees and remained regarding with half closed eyes the softlyfluttering leaves of the willows along the edge of the brook. The hotflush died out of her cheeks; the lips whose expression a few minutessince had indicated self-control under a combination of tryingcircumstances, relaxed into their natural sweetness with a tendency towardmirth; and her whole aspect became that merely of the young athleteresting from one encounter and preparing herself for another. 

At length she rose, shook out her skirts, and said aloud: "Now, JudithDearborn Carey, I'm ready to upset your expectations. Since you looked inat me this morning you've been thinking I wished I hadn't--haven't you?Well, you may just understand that I don't wish anything of the sort. " Andin five minutes more she had walked in upon her guest by way of the frontdoor, her pretty face serene, her hands full of pink June roses which shethrew in a fragrant mass of beauty into her friend's lap. 

"Put those into bowls for me, will you?" she requested. "Arrange them tosuit yourself. Aren't they lovely? I suppose you're getting hungry. Inhalf an hour you shall be served with a very modest but, I trust, notinsufficient lunch. Would you like hot chocolate or iced tea?"

"Iced tea, by all means, " chose Judith, who, being used to the privilegesof selection from a variety of offered foods and beverages, was apt towant what was not set before her, when at a private table. Julietunderstood this propensity of her friend and slyly took advantage of it. As it happened, she knew that at the moment she was quite out ofchocolate, but she had counted advisedly upon Judith's choice on a hotJune day, and she smiled to herself as she chopped ice and sliced lemon. 

At the end of the half hour, Judith, who found the coolness of theliving-room too delightful to allow her to keep watch of her friend in thehot kitchen, much as she was tempted to do so, was summoned to an equallycool dining-room. Upon the bare table, daintily set out upon some of theembroidered white doilies of Juliet's wedding linen, was a simple lunch ofa character which appealed to the guest's critical appetite in a way whichmade her draw a long breath of satisfaction. 

"You certainly do have a trick of serving things to make them taste betterthan other people's, " she acknowledged, glancing from the little platterof broiled chicken with its bit of parsley to the crisp fruit salad madeup of she knew not what, but presenting an appetising appearance--thenregarding fondly a dish of spinach, pleasingly flanked by thin slices ofboiled egg. 

"It's really too hot to eat anything very solid, " agreed Juliet withguile. "Rachel and I have a way of planning our lunches a day or twoahead, so that the leftovers we use up are not yesterday's but the daybefore's, and we remember with surprise how good the original dish was farback in the past. I wish Anthony could have his midday meal athome--though perhaps if he did the dinners wouldn't strike him so happily. Don't you think it's great fun to see a big, hearty man sit down at atable and look at it with an expression of adoration? Women may deride thefact as they will, but a healthy body does demand good things to eat, andshouldn't be blamed for liking them. "

"Wayne hasn't much appetite, " said Judith, eating away with relish. "Hedislikes the people at our table--sometimes I think that's why he boltshis food and gets off in such a hurry. By the way, Juliet, are you andTony coming in to the Reardons' to-night? Of course you are. "

"I suppose we must, " admitted Juliet with reluctance. "We have refused agood many things since we've been here, but I did promise Mrs. Reardon wewould try to come to-night. "

The little repast over, Judith offered, with well simulated warmth, tohelp her friend with the after work. But Juliet would have none of her. She sent her guest out into a hammock under the trees, and despatched thebusiness of putting the little kitchen to rights with the celerity of onewho means to have done with it. 

In the middle of the June afternoon Judith awoke from a nap in the hammockto find her hostess standing laughing beside her, fresh in a thin gown offlowered dimity. 

"Well, " yawned Judith, heavily, "I must have gone off to sleep. I wastired--I am tireder. This is a fatiguing sort of weather--don't you thinkso? But you don't look it. And after all that work I found you in! Whyaren't you used up? It _kills_ me to do things in the heat. "

Juliet dropped a big blue denim pillow on the ground and sat down upon itin a flutter of dimity. She lifted a smiling face and said with spirit:

"Last summer I could walk miles over a golf course twice a day and notmind it in the least. The year before I was most of the time on the river, rowing till I was as strong as a girl could be. I've had gymnasium workand fencing lessons and have been brought up to keep myself in perfecttrim by my baths and exercise. What frail thing am I that a littlehousework should use me up?"

"Yes--I know--you always did go in for that sort of thing, " reflectedJudith, eyeing her companion's fresh colour and bright eyes. "I suppose Iought, but I never cared for it--I don't mean the baths and all that--ofcourse any self-respecting woman adores warm baths. I don't like the coldplunges and showers you always add on. "

"Then don't expect the results. "

"It isn't everybody who has your energetic temperament. I hate golf, despise tennis, never rowed a stroke in my life, and could no more keephouse as you are doing than I could fly. "

"Let me see, " said Juliet demurely, pretending to consider. "What is itthat you do like to do?"

"You know well enough. And little enough of it I can get now with ahusband who never cares to stir. " There was a suspicion of bitterness inJudith's voice. But Juliet, ignoring it, went blithely on:

"I've a strong conviction that one can't be happy without being busy. Nowthat I can't keep up my athletic sports I should become a palehypochondriac without these housewifely affairs to employ me. I don't liketo embroider. I can't paint china. I'm not a musician. I somehow don'tcare to begin to devote myself to clubs in town. I love my books and thegreat outdoors--and plenty of action. "

"You're a strange girl, " was Judith's verdict, getting languidly out ofthe hammock, an hour later, after an animated discussion with her friendon various matters touching on the lives of both. "Either you're aremarkable actress or you're as contented as you seem to be. I wish I hadyour enthusiasm. Everything bores me--Look at this frock, after lying in ahammock! Isn't white linen the prettiest thing when you put it on and themost used up when you take it off, of any fabric known to the shops?"

"It is, indeed. But if anybody can afford to wear it it's you, who neversit recklessly about on banks and fences, but keep cool and correct andstately and----"

"--discontented. I admit I've talked like a fractious child all day. ButI've had a good time and want to come oftener than I have. May I?"

"Of course you may. Must you go? I'll keep you to dinner and send forWayne. "

"You're an angel, but I've an engagement for five o'clock, and there's theReardons' this evening. You won't forget that? You and Anthony will besure to come?"

"I'll not promise absolutely, but I'll see. Mrs. Reardon was so kind as toleave it open. It's an informal affair, I believe?"

"Informal, but very gorgeous, just the same. She wouldn't give anybody butyou such an elastic invitation as that, and you should appreciate hereagerness to get you, " declared Judith, who cared very much from whom herinvitations came and could never understand her friend's careless attitudetoward the most impressive of them. 

Juliet watched her guest go down the street, and waved an affectionatehand at her as Judith looked back from her seat in the trolley car. "Poorold Judy, " she said to herself. "How glad you are you're not I!--And howvery, very glad I am I'm not you!"

An observation, it must be admitted, essentially feminine. No man is everheard to felicitate himself upon the fact that he is not some other man. 

XV. --ANTHONY PLAYS MAID

After dinner that night, Juliet, having once more put things in order andslipped off the big pinafore which had kept her spotless, joined herhusband in the garden up and down which he was comfortably pacing, handsin pockets, pipe in mouth. 

"Jolly spot, isn't it? Come and perambulate, " he suggested. 

"Just for a minute. Tony, are we going to the Reardons?"

He stood still and considered. "I don't know. Are we? Did you accept?"

"On condition that you felt like it. I represented you as coming homedecidedly fagged these hot nights and not always caring to stir. "

"Wise schemer! I don't mind the aspersion on my physical being. She urged, I suppose?"

"She did. I don't know why. "

"I do. " Anthony smiled down at his wife. "Everybody is a bit curious aboutus these days. Your position, you see, is considered very extraordinary. "

"Nonsense, Tony. Shall we go?"

"Possibly we'd better, though it racks my soul to think of dressing. Theless I wear my festive garments the less I want to. For that very reason, suppose we discipline ourselves and go. Do you mind?"

"Not at all. We'll have to dress at once, for it's nearly eight now, andby the time we have caught a train and got to Hollyhurst----"

"To be sure. Here goes, then. "

Half an hour later Anthony, wrestling with a refractory cuff button, looked up to see his wife at his elbow. She was very nearly a vision ofelegance and beauty; the lacking essential was explained to him by a voicevery much out of breath and a trifle petulant:

"If you care anything for me, Tony, stop everything and hook me up. I'mall mixed up, and I can't reach, and I'm sure I've torn that little lacefrill at the back. "

"All right. Where do I begin?"

"Under my left arm, I think--I can't possibly see. "

"Neither can I. " He was poking about under the lifted arm, among folds offilmy stuff. "Here we are--no, we aren't. Does this top hook go in thislittle pocket on the other side?"

"I suppose so--can't you tell whether it does by the look?"

"It seems a bit blind to me, " murmured Anthony, struggling. 

"It's meant to be blind--it mustn't show when it's fastened. "

"It certainly doesn't now. Hold on--don't wriggle. I've got it now. I'vefound the combination. Three turns to the right, five to the left, cleararound once, then--Hullo! I've come out wrong. The thing doesn't track atthe bottom. "

"You've missed a hook. "

"Oh, no. I hung onto 'em all the way down. "

"Then you missed an eye. You'll have to unhook it all and begin again. "

Anthony obeyed. "I'm glad I don't have to get into my clothes around thecorner this way, " he commented. "Here you are. We stuck to the schedulethis time. "

"Wait, dear. You haven't fastened the shoulder. There are ever so manylittle hooks along there and around the arm hole. "

"I should say there were. What's the good of so many?--Where do theybegin? Look out--wait a minute--Juliet, if you don't stop twisting aroundso I never can do it. I can do great, heroic acts, it's the little trialsthat floor me--There--no!--that doesn't look right. "

Juliet ran to the mirror. "It isn't right, " she cried. "Look--that cornershouldn't lap over like that. Oh, if I could only reach myself!"

"You can't--I've often tried it. The human anatomy--Stand still, Julie--you're getting nervous. "

"If there's one thing that's trying----" murmured Juliet. 

"Why do you let your dressmakers build your frocks this way? Why not getinto 'em all in front, where you can see what you're doing?--Now I've gotit. Isn't that right?"

"Yes. Wait, Tony--here's the girdle. It fastens behind. "

Anthony surveyed the incomprehensible affair of silk and velvet ribbon sheput into his hands. "Looks like a head-stall to me, " he said. Julietlaughed and fitted it about her own waist. Anthony attempted to make itjoin at the back of the points she held out to him. 

"It won't come together, " he said. 

"Oh, yes, it will. Draw it tight. "

"I am drawing it tight. It's smaller than you are. You can't wear it. "

Juliet laughed again. Anthony tugged. 

"Wait till I hold my breath, " she said. 

"_Great guns!_" he ejaculated, and by the exertion of much force fastenedthe girdle. Then he stood off a step or two and looked at his wifecuriously. Flushed and laughing she returned his gaze. 

"Can you breathe?" he asked solicitously. 

"Of course I can. "

"What with?"

"It is a little tight, of course, " she admitted. "This is one of mytrousseau dresses. I've grown a little stouter, I suppose. Never mind, Ican stand it for to-night. Thank you very much. You must hurry now, Tony. "

"I haven't had my pay for playing maid, " he said, and came close. Hesurveyed his wife's fair neck and shoulders, turned her around anddeliberately kissed the soft hollow where the firm white flesh of her neckmet the waving brown hair drawn lightly upwards. 

"That's the spot that tantalized me for about six years, " he observed. 

Hunting hurriedly through various drawers and boxes in the blue-and-whiteroom, in search of gloves and fan, Juliet heard her husband come in histurn to her open door. 

"Will you have the goodness to look at me?" he requested, in a melancholyvoice. Juliet turned, gave him one glance, and broke into a merry peal. 

"Oh, Tony!--What's the matter? Have you been growing stouter, too?"

"It must be, " he said solemnly. 

His clawhammer coat was so tight across the shoulders that the strain wasevident. He was holding his arms in the exaggerated position of the smallboy who wears a last year's suit. Juliet revolved around her husband'swell built figure with interest. 

"It does look tight, " she said. "But have you grown heavier all at once?It can't be long since you wore that coat before. "

"Don't believe I have for months. It's been altogether frock-coats andinformals. I haven't been to an evening affair with ladies for a goodwhile. "

"It doesn't look as it feels, I'm sure. It's getting very late--we oughtto be off, " and Juliet gathered up her belongings and gave him a longloose coat to hold for her which covered her finery completely. 

"Now's the hour when I regret that I haven't a carriage for you, " saidAnthony, as they descended the stairs. He got into his outer coatreluctantly. "I shall split something around my back before the evening isover, " he prophesied resignedly. 

"Never mind. Remember how tight my girdle is. It grows tighter everyminute. "

They got out upon the porch and Anthony locked the door. "If I should showthat door-key to any man I know except Carey he would howl, " he remarked, holding up the queer old brass affair before he slipped it into hispocket. He looked down at Juliet in the gathering June twilight. "Don'tyou wish we didn't have to go?"

"Yes, I do, " she agreed frankly. 

"Let's not!"

"My dear boy! At this hour?"

"We could telephone. "

"Shouldn't you feel rather ashamed to, so late?"

"Not a bit. But of course we'll go if you say so. "

She laughed, and he joined her boyishly. She hesitated. 

"If I see you looking faint in that girdle shall I throw a glass of coldwater over you?"

"Please do. If I hear a sound as of rending cloth shall I divert theattention of the company?"

"By all means. "

They were laughing like two children. Anthony sat down in one of the porchchairs. He drew a long sigh. "I never hated to leave my dear home so sinceI came into it, " he said gloomily. 

Juliet pulled off her coat. "If you'll do the telephoning I'll stay, " shesaid. 

He jumped to his feet. "Let me loosen that girdle for you. I haven't beenbreathing below the fifth rib myself since you put it on, just insympathy, " he declared. 

XVI. --A HOUSE-PARTY--OUTDOORS

"The trouble is, " said Anthony Robeson, shifting his position on the stepbelow Juliet so that he could rest his head against her knee, "the troubleis we're getting too popular. "

Juliet laughed and ran her fingers through his thick locks, gentlytweaking them. The two were alone together in the warm darkness of a Julyevening, upon their own little porch. 

"It's the first evening we've had to ourselves since the big snowdriftunder the front windows melted. That was about the date Roger Barnes metLouis Lockwood here the first time. Ye gods--but they've kept each other'sfootprints warm since then, haven't they? And now Cathcart is givingindications of having contracted the fatal malady. Can't Rachel Redding beincarcerated somewhere until the next moon is past? I notice they all haveworse symptoms each third quarter. That girl looks innocent, but--byheaven, Julie, I think she has it down fine. "

"No, you don't, " said Juliet persuasively. "I should catch her at it ifshe were deliberately trying to keep two such men as Roger and Louispitted against each other. They're doing it all themselves. I've known herto run away when she saw one of them coming--so that she couldn't befound. But, Tony dear, I've a plan. "

"Good. I hope it's a duel between the two principals. If it is I'm goingto tamper with the weapons and see that each injures himself past help. I'm getting a little weary of playing the hospitable host to a trio ofwould-bes. "

"Listen. We'll entertain them all at once for a week, with some extragirls, and Judith and Wayne, and then we'll announce that we're not athome for a month. "

"All at once--a house-party?" Anthony sat up and laughed uproariously. "I've tremendous faith in you, love, but where in the name of all theFrench sardines that ever were dovetailed would you put such a crowd?"

"I've a practical plan. Louis Lockwood belongs to a fishing club thatspends every August up in Canada. They have a big tent, twenty bytwenty-five, for he told me so the other day. He would get it for us; wewould put it out in the orchard, close to the river. You and Wayne, andRoger and Louis, and Stevens Cathcart could sleep down there, and I couldeasily take care of Judith and Suzanne Gerard and Marie Dresser, here inthe house. Rachel should stay here, too. And Auntie Dingley would senddown Mary McKaim to cook for us, I'm sure. "

"That's not so bad. But why Rachel--when you have so little room?"

"Because I want her to have all the fun; because if I don't keep her hereshe will be running away half the time; and because----"

"Now comes the real reason, " observed Anthony sagely. 

"I don't want the other girls thinking she has the unfair advantage oftaking a man away from the party every evening to walk down home withher. "

"Wise little chaperon. I can see Roger and Louis now, glaring at eachother as the hour approaches for her departure. "

"What do you think of my plan? It's only a plan, you know, Tony--subjectto your approval. "

"Diplomat!" murmured Anthony, reaching up one arm and drawing it about hershoulders. "You know you're safe to have my approval when you put it inthat tone. Well, provided you can figure out the finances--and I know youwouldn't propose it if you hadn't done that already--I don't see anyobjection. On one condition, though, Julie, mind you--on one condition. "

"Name it. "

"Of course, I can only be here evenings during your house party. So mycondition is that I have you and the home all to myself for my vacationafterward. Not a wooer nor a chum admitted. No overdressed women out fromtown, taking afternoon tea--no invitations to lonesome husbands out todinner. Just you and I. Did you ever imagine life in the rural localitieswould be so gay, anyhow? I want to go fishing with you--tramping throughthe woods with you--sitting out here on the porch with you--in short, haveyou all to myself--and"--he turned completely about, kneeling below her onthe step, crushing her in both arms so vigorously that he stopped herbreath--"eat--you--up!"

"What a prospect, " she cried softly, when she found herself partiallyreleased. "Are you sure you need a vacation, just for that?"

"Certain of it. I've had to share you with other people all the year--andnow I've got to give you up to a jealous lovers' assemblage. So afterthat, mind you, I have my satisfaction. "

 * * * * *

When Doctor Barnes was told of the plan he looked gloomy. "Going to askLockwood?" he inquired at once. 

"Of course, " assented Juliet promptly. 

"I don't see any 'of course' about it. "

"What would Marie Dresser do to me if I didn't invite him?"

"He doesn't care for her----"

"Oh, yes, he does. Why, last winter he seemed to be on the point of askingher to marry him. Everybody expected the announcement any day. "

"Last winter and this summer are two different propositions. "

"Marie doesn't think so. "

"She'll get mightily undeceived, then. Whom else are you asking?"

"Stevens Cathcart. "

The doctor groaned. "Is this a dose you're fixing for me? I'm going to betoo busy--I can't come. "

"Very well, " said Juliet placidly. She was sewing, upon the porch, and thedoctor sat on the step. 

He looked up with a grimace. "I suppose you think I'll be out on the nexttrain after the rest arrive. "

"I certainly do, Dr. Roger Williams Barnes. "

"I presume you are inviting Suzanne?" he queried. 

"Why not?"

"No reason why not. Cathcart admires her immensely--or did, before hebegan to cultivate this place. "

Juliet laughed. "Suzanne would never forgive you if she heard that. "

"By-the-way, " said the doctor slowly, "has she ever met--Miss Redding?"

"No. "

He meditated for several minutes in silence, while Juliet sewed, glancingfrom time to time at one of the most attractive masculine profiles withwhich she was familiar. He was not as handsome a man as Louis Lockwood, but every line of his face stood for strength, not without somepretensions to good looks. He looked up at length and straight at her. 

"Would you mind telling me, " he began, "just what you intend to effectwith this combination? I never gave you credit, you know, Juliet, forwanting to manage Fate, and I don't believe it now. "

"No, I don't want to manage Fate, " said Juliet, smiling over her work, "but I admit I want two things: I want you to see Rachel Redding besideSuzanne Gerard, and--I want Rachel to see you beside Louis Lockwoodand--Suzanne. "

"I see, " said the doctor grimly. "In other words, you want your protégéeto have fair play. "

"Just that, " Juliet answered, more gravely now. "I think lots of you, Roger, and well of you--you know I do--and yet----"

"And yet----"

"Let me guard my girl. She's not like the others, and you and Louis aremaking it tremendously hard for her between you. "

"You seem to be planning to make it infinitely harder. "

Juliet shook her head. "Trust me, Roger, please. "

"All right, I will, " promised the doctor. "But just assure me that you'reon my side. "

"I'm on nobody's side, " was all the comfort he got. 

Juliet's invitations received delighted acceptances, though Wayne Careyand Doctor Barnes would be able to come out only for the nights--in time, however, for late and festive suppers outdoors. The tent in the orchard, with its comfortable bunks, was accepted by all the men with enthusiasm. 

"And to satisfy the men is the essential thing, you know, Tony, " Juliethad observed sagely when she saw their pleasure in their quarters. "Thegirls will accept any crowding together if they have a mirror and room totie a sash in, as long as devoted admirers are not wanting. "

The moment Miss Dresser and Miss Gerard saw Miss Rachel Redding--to quoteAnthony--the fun began. Mrs. Wayne Carey had already met her, and had beencarefully coached by Juliet as to the bearing she must assume towardJuliet's new friend. So when Marie and Suzanne began to inquire of Judiththe latter was prepared to answer them. 

"She's a beauty in her way, isn't she?" Judith asserted. "Juliet'simmensely fond of her, I should judge. "

"But who is she?" demanded Suzanne. 

"A neighbour, a country girl, a school and college girl, a comparativelypoor girl--and a lucky girl, for Juliet likes her. "

"Have the men met her before?"

"Goodness, yes. Haven't you heard how they beg invitations home to dinnerof Anthony, just to see her?" Judith was enjoying the situation. Thisstatement, however, was no part of Juliet's coaching. 

"I didn't see anything particularly attractive about her, " said Mariepromptly. "She's a demure thing. One wouldn't think she ever lifted thoselong lashes to look at a man--but that's just the kind. Awfully plainlydressed. "

"That's her style, " said Suzanne. "These poor, pretty girls are once in awhile just clever enough to make capital out of their poverty by wearingsimply fetching things in pale gray dimity and dark blue lawn andsunbonnets. Stevens Cathcart would be just the kind to be carried awaywith her. Roger Barnes wouldn't look at her twice. "

"Louis might pretend to admire her, to please Juliet, " admitted Marie. "Hehas a way of making every girl think he is in love with her--and he is, toa certain extent. But it's never serious. "

Whether it were serious in this instance Miss Dresser soon had opportunityto judge. 

After dinner that first night Anthony proposed taking all his guests outupon the river in a big flat-boat he had rented. But when he made up theparty Rachel was not to be found. 

"I'm afraid she's gone home, " said Juliet. 

"I'll run down and see, " proposed Lockwood instantly, and was suiting theaction to the word when Cathcart got off ahead of him. 

"I'll have her back presently, " he called as he dashed down the road. "Youpeople go on--we'll catch you. "

"We'll wait for you, " Lockwood shouted after him. 

"Why should we wait?" demurred Marie, beginning to walk away toward theriver. 

"If we don't he's liable not to find it convenient to catch up with us, "Lockwood retorted. 

"If they prefer their own company why not let them have it?" she said overher shoulder. 

"Run along, Louis, " murmured Doctor Barnes. "One girl at a time. "

He turned to Juliet. "Shall we go?" he said. 

Anthony caught his glance, and, laughing, turned to Suzanne. "Will youconsole an old married man, Miss Gerard?" he inquired. 

But when Cathcart reappeared, which he did very soon, Rachel was not withhim. "She said she had to stay with her mother, " he explained in a tonewhich so closely resembled a growl that everybody laughed. 

"Bear up, Stevie, boy, " chaffed Wayne Carey. "I'm confident she likes you, but she may not like you all the time, you know. They seldom do. "

XVII. --RACHEL CAUSES ANXIETY

In spite of all Juliet's efforts to bring about Rachel's presence as oneof her guests she found herself unable to accomplish it. Whenever she wasneeded for help Rachel was never absent, but the moment she was free thegirl was off, and that quite without the appearance of running away. Themen of the party followed her, but they were not allowed to remain. Thegirls, confident that her disappearances were part of a very deep game, begged her to stay; it was useless. Rachel's excuses were ready, hermanner charmingly regretful in a quiet way, but stay she would not. 

Dr. Roger Barnes waylaid her one evening as she was vanishing down thewillow-bordered path by the brook, leading to her own home. 

"Here you go again, " he began discontentedly. "I wish I knew why. "

Rachel paused. It was difficult to do otherwise with a large anddetermined figure blocking a very narrow path. 

"I have ever so many things waiting at home for me to do. "

"At nine o'clock in the evening?"

"At whatever hour I am through at Mrs. Robeson's. "

"I wish I could imagine something of what they are. It might relieve mymind a little. "

"Why, I will tell you, " said Rachel with great appearance of frankness. "Ihave to do some mending for mother, read the evening paper for father, andset the bread. Then the clothes must be sprinkled for ironing in themorning. "

The doctor studied her face in the dimming light. "Who washed theclothes?" he asked bluntly. 

"Do you think you ought to ask?" said Rachel. 

"Yes. I'm in the habit of asking questions. "

"Of patients----"

"Of everybody I care for. You don't have to answer, but if you don't Ishall know who did the washing. "

"Yes, I did it, " said Rachel steadily. "It is easily done. "

"And then you came over here and got breakfast?"

"Not at all. I helped Mrs. Robeson and Mary McKaim get it. Doctor Barnes, do you know that you are standing directly in my path?"

"Certainly, " said the doctor. "It's what I'm here for. "

"Then I shall have to go back and take the road home. "

"If you do you will evade me only to encounter another man. Lockwood'skeeping a ferret's eye on the Robeson house door; and I think Cathcart isalready patrolling the road in front of your house. "

The girl turned. "You are making me feel very absurd, " she said. "I wantto go home, Doctor Barnes. Please let me pass you. "

"May I go with you?"

"I would rather not. "

"Well, that's frank, " he said, amusement and chagrin struggling for theuppermost. "I wonder I don't stalk angrily away----"

"I wish you would. "

Roger Barnes threw back his head and laughed. "I wish you would give someother girls a leaf out of your book, " he said. "The more you turn me downthe more ardently I long to be with you; while the opposite sort ofthing--I'll tell you, Miss Redding, if you want to be rid of me try thesetactics: Say with a languishing smile, 'Oh, Doctor Barnes, won't you takeme a little way down this lovely path?' Perhaps that will accomplish yourends. I've often felt an instant desire not to do the thing I'm beggedto. "

"'Oh, Doctor Barnes, '" said Rachel Redding--and he caught the mischief inher tone--even Rachel could be mischievous, as Juliet had said--"'won'tyou take me a little way down this lovely path?'"

"With the greatest pleasure in the world, " replied the doctor promptly, and stood aside to let her pass him. Whereupon she slipped by him, andbefore he could realise that she had gone was running fleetly away in thetwilight down the winding, willow-hung path. With an exclamation he wasoff after her, but though he dashed at the pace of a hunter through theintricacies of the way he presently discovered that he was followingnothing but the summer breeze rustling the willow leaves and wafting intohis face the breath of new-cut hay, the aftermath of late July. He stoppedat length and stared about him, baffled and half angry. 

"There never was a girl like you, " he muttered. "If you are deliberatelytrying to make men mad to get you you are succeeding infuriatingly well. If I catch you to-night it will be your fault if I tell you what I thinkof you. I'll tell you now, for I suppose you are hiding somewhere in thisundergrowth till I give it up and you can get away home. You shall listento me if you are here, for you can't help yourself. "

He was speaking in a low, even tone, walking slowly along the path andpeering sharply into the bushes on both sides. Suddenly he stood still. Hehad detected a spot beside a low-hanging willow which showed nearly whitein the deepening darkness. Rachel was wearing white to-night, heremembered. His heart quickened its paces and he paused an instant to getpast a certain tightening in his throat. 

Then he bent forward and whispered: "If that's not you there I can saywhat I like, and there'll be some satisfaction in that. If you'll speaknow you may save yourself, but if you don't I've no reason to think it'syou, and so I can say----"

There was a sharply perceptible noise farther down the path toward theRedding home. Barnes turned quickly and stood up straight, waiting. Footsteps came rapidly along the path--no footsteps of hers, evidently. Aman's voice humming a tune grew momentarily plainer--then the voicestopped humming and began to sing in a subdued but clear and finebarytone:

 "Down through the lane Come I again Seeking, my love, for you; Run to me, dear, Losing all fear, Love and----"

The voice stopped. Two men's figures confronted each other in an extremelynarrow path. It was not too dark yet for each to be plainly recognisableto the other. 

"Hallo--that you, Lockwood?"

"Hi there, Roger Barnes; what you doing here? Fishing?"

"Looking for something I've lost. "

"Getting pretty dark to find it. Something valuable?"

"Rather. Think I'll give it up for to-night. "

"Too bad. Nice night. " Lockwood was hastening toward the end of the pathwhich came out near Anthony's house. Barnes looked after him grimly. 

"That voice of yours, young man, " he thought, "handicaps me from thestart. Now, if I could just warble my emotions that way----"

He turned and peered again at the white place by the tree. He movedstealthily toward it, and ascertained presently that it was not what itseemed. He rose to his feet and walked rapidly down the path to theRedding house. When he came in sight of it he saw that the kitchen windowswere lighted and that a man stood with his arm on the sill of one of them. Silhouetted against the light were the familiar outlines of StevensCathcart. As Barnes stood staring amazedly at this, a slender figure inwhite came to the window, and in the stillness he could hear the quietvoice:

"Please let me close the window, Mr. Cathcart. Thank you--no--andgood-night. "

"'Three Men in a Boat, ' by Rachel Redding, " murmured the doctor tohimself, and slipped back to the willow path, from which he at lengthemerged to join the group upon the porch--which then, it may be observed, held for the first time that night its full complement of men. 

Three big Chinese lanterns shed a softly pleasant light upon the porch andthe lawn at its foot. Suzanne Gerard and Marie Dresser made a mostattractive picture, one in a low chair, the other upon a pile of cushionson the step. Suzanne lightly picked a mandolin. Marie was singing softly:

 "Down through the lane Come I again Seeking, my love, for you; Run to me, dear, Losing all fear, Love and my life will be true. "

It was one of the songs of the summer--foolish words, seductivemusic--everybody hummed it half the time. Roger Barnes smiled to himself, remembering where he had heard it last. 

"Come here and give account, " commanded Suzanne the instant he appeared. "Every unmarried man vanished the moment twilight fell. You are the lastto show your face. I challenge you, one and all, to swear that you havenot been within sight of a certain small brown house at the foot of thehill since supper. "

Her voice was music; in her eyes was laughter. Marie sang on, pointing herwords with smiles at one and another of the culprits. 

From his seat on the threshold of the door, where his head rested againstJuliet's knee as she sat behind him, Anthony laughed to himself. Then heturned his head and whispered to his wife: "Feel the claws through thevelvet? Poor boys, they have my sympathy. "

XVIII. --AN UNKNOWN QUANTITY

"Rachel, " said Juliet decisively, next morning, "to-night is the last ofmy house party, and I refuse to let you off. I'm asking ten or twelve morepeople out from town. You must spend this evening with my guests, orforfeit my friendship. "

She was smiling as she said it, but her tone was not to be denied. 

"If that is the alternative, " Rachel answered, returning the smile with anaffectionate look of a sort which neither Louis Lockwood nor StevensCathcart nor Dr. Roger Barnes had ever seen on her face--though they haddreamed of it--"of course I shall stay. But I'll tell you frankly I wouldrather not. "

"Why not, Rachel?"

"I think you know why not, Mrs. Robeson, " Rachel answered. 

"Yes, I know why not, " admitted Juliet. "Girls are queer things, Ray. Theydefeat their own ends all the time--lots of them. Suzanne and Marie aredear girls, with ever so many nice things about them, but they don't--theydon't know enough not to pursue, chase, run down, the object of theirdesires. And, of course, the object, being run down panting, into acorner, dodges, evades, gets out and runs away. Rachel, dear, what are yougoing to wear to-night?"

"My best frock, " said Rachel, smiling. 

"Which is----"

"White. "

"Cut out at the neck?"

"A little. "

"Short in the sleeves?"

"To the elbows. It was my sophomore evening dress. "

"It will be all right, I know. Rachel, wear a white rose in those lowblack braids of yours--will you?"

"No, I think I won't, " refused Rachel. 

"Why not?"

Rachel did not answer. Into her cool cheek crept a tinge of rebellious, telltale colour. 

Juliet studied her a minute in silence, then came up to her and layingboth hands on her shoulders looked up into her eyes. 

"You try to 'play fair, ' don't you, dear?" she said heartily, "whateverthe rest may do. And whatever they may do, Rachel Redding, don't you care. It's not your fault that they are as jealous of you as girls can be andkeep sweet outside. I'd be jealous of you myself if----" She paused, laughing. 

"When you grow jealous, " said Rachel, "it will be because you have grownblind. If anybody ever wore his heart on his sleeve--no, not there--butbeating sturdily in the right place for one woman in the world it's----"

"Right you are, " said Anthony Robeson, coming up behind them, "and I hopeyou may convince her of it. She has no confidence in her own powers. "

Rachel stood looking at them a moment, her dark eyes very bright. "To seeyou two, " she said slowly at length, "is to believe it all. "

The evening promised to be a gay one. The men of the party had sent totown for many lanterns, flags and decorations of the sort, and had madethe porch and lawn the setting for a brilliant scene. A dozen young peoplehad been asked out, and came enthusiastically. 

"We'll wind up with a flourish, " said Anthony in his wife's ear as theydescended the stairs together, "and then we'll send them all off to-morrowwhere they'll cease from troubling. I think it was the best plan in theworld, but I'll be glad to prowl about my beloved home without observingCathcart scowling at Lockwood, Roger Barnes evading Suzanne, or even mygood boy Wayne with that eternal wonder on his face as to why his flatdoes not look like our Eden. "

"Hush--and don't look too happy to-morrow, Tony. Oh, here comes Rachel. Isn't she lovely?"

"Now, watch, " murmured Anthony, his face full of amusement. "It's as goodas the best comedy I ever saw. See Suzanne. She never looked towardRachel, but don't tell me she wasn't aware of the very instant Rachel cameupon the porch. I believe she read it in Roger Barnes's face. I'll wagerten to one his pulse isn't countable at the present instant. "

"I don't blame him, " Juliet answered, smiling at her guests. "She's myideal of a girl who won't hold out a finger to the men. "

"Yes, she's your sort, " admitted Anthony. "I know what it is--poorfellows--I've been through it. Your cold shoulder used to warm up my hearthotter than any other girl's kindness. Look at the boys now. They can'tjump and run away from the other girls, but they'd like to. And they'reall deadly anxious for fear the others will get the start. Say, Julie, youought not to have asked those new youngsters down from town. They'll catchit, sure as fate; they're at the susceptible age. I see five of them now, all staring at Rachel. "

"You positively mustn't stay here with me any longer, " whispered Juliet. "Go and devote yourself to her and keep them off for a little. "

"Not on your life, " Anthony returned "She can take care of herself. If Imix up in this fray you're likely to be husbandless. Lockwood and Rogerare getting dangerous, and I'm going to keep on the outskirts where it'ssafe. "

They were all upon the lawn--Rachel, unable to help herself, according toAnthony's intimation, the centre of a group of men who would not give eachother a chance--when a stranger appeared upon the edge of the circle oflight. He stood watching the scene for a moment--a tall, slender fellow, with a pale face and deep-set eyes. Then he asked somebody to tell MissRedding that Mr. Huntington would like to speak with her. Rachel, thussummoned, rose, looked about her, caught sight of the stranger, and wentswiftly down the lawn. A dozen people, among them all the men who had beenthe guests of the week, saw the meeting. They observed that the newcomerput out both hands, that his smile was very bright, and that he stoodlooking down into Miss Redding's face as if at sight of it he hadinstantly forgotten everything else in the world. 

Rachel, leaving him, came back up the lawn to find her hostess. As shepassed it became evident to a good many pairs of sharp eyes that herbeauty had received a keen accession from the sweeping over her cheeks ofa burning blush--so unusual that they could not fail to take note of it. 

Juliet came back down the lawn with Rachel, who presented Mr. Huntington;and presently, without a word of leave-taking to any one else, the twowent away down the road. 

"Now, who under the heavens was that?" grunted Louis Lockwood in Anthony'sear, catching his host around the corner of the house. 

"Don't know. "

"Brother, perhaps?"

"Hasn't any. "

"Relative?"

"Don't know. "

"Just a messenger, maybe?"

"Give it up. "

"She blushed like anything. "

"Did she? Man she is going to marry, probably. "

"Oh, that can't be!"

"The lady looks marriageable to me, " observed Anthony, strolling away. 

He ran into Cathcart. 

"Say, who was that fellow, Tony?" began Stevens. 

"Don't ask me. "

"He looked confoundedly as if he meant to embrace her on the spot. "

"So he did, " agreed Anthony soothingly. "Don't blame him, do you? He maynot have seen her for a month. What condition do you suppose you'd be inif a week should get away from you out of her vicinity?"

"Bother you, Tony--don't you know who he was?"

"Intimate friend, I should judge. "

"She turned pink as a carnation. "

"Say hollyhock, " suggested Anthony, "or peony. Only a vivid colour coulddo justice to it. "

"That's right, " groaned Cathcart. "She never looked like that for any ofus. "

"Never, " said Anthony promptly, and got away, chuckling. 

"Hold on, there, Robeson, man, " said the voice of Dr. Roger Barnes, andAnthony found himself again held up. 

"Come on, old Roger boy, " said his host pleasantly. "We'll amble down theroad a bit and give you a chance to get a grip on yourself. No, I don'tknow who he is. I'm all worn out assuring Louis and Steve of that. She didturn red, she did look upset--with joy, I infer. That girl has made morehavoc in one short week--playing off all the while, too--than Suzanne andMarie have accomplished in the biggest season they ever knew. And Ibelieve, Roger boy, you're about the hardest hit of any of them. "

The doctor did not answer. The two had walked away from the house and weremarching arm in arm at a good pace down the road. 

"She's as poor as a church mouse, " suggested Anthony. 

There was no reply. 

"She has a dead weight of a helpless father and mother. "

The doctor put match to a cigar. 

"Juliet says her brother died of dissipation in a gambling-house. "

Doctor Barnes began to chew hard on a cigar that he had failed to light. 

"But she's a mighty sweet girl, " said Anthony softly. 

"See here, Tony, " the doctor burst out. --"Oh, hang it all--"

"I see, " said his friend, with a hand on his shoulder. "Go ahead, RogerBarnes--there's nothing in life like it; and the good Lord have mercy onyou, for the sort of girl worth caring for doesn't know the meaning of theword. "

 * * * * *

"All gone, little girl, " said Anthony jubilantly, as he turned back intothe house the next evening, after watching out of sight the bigtouring-car of Lockwood's which had carried all his house-party away atonce. "They are mighty fine people and I like them all immensely--but--Ihave enjoyed to the full this speeding the parting guest. And now for myvacation. It begins to-morrow. "

"What shall we do?" asked Juliet, allowing him to draw her into hisfavourite settle corner. 

"Go fishing. If you'll put up a jolly little--I mean a jolly big--lunch, and array yourself in unspoilable attire, I'll give you a day's greatsport, whether we catch any fish or not. There's one fish you're sureof--he's always on the end of your line: hooked fast, and resigned to hisfate. Juliet, are they really all gone?"

"I'm sure they are. "

"Good Mary McKaim--peace be to her ashes, for she never gets any on thetoast--has she gone, too?"

"She's packing. "

"Rachel safe at home with her presumable fiancé?"

"He can't be her fiancé, Tony--"

"That's what Lockwood said--but I suppose he can, just the same. Rachelaway, do you say?"

"Yes. She didn't come over to-day at all, you know. "

"I noticed it--by the gloom on three stalwart men's faces. Well, ifeverybody's safely out of the way I'm going to commit myself. "

"To what, Tony?"

She was laughing, for he had risen, looked all about him with greatanxiety, tiptoed to each door and listened at it, and was now come back tostand before her, smiling down at her and holding out his arms. 

"To the statement, " he said, gathering her close and speaking into herupturned rosy face, "that without doubt this is the dearest home in theworld, and that you are the sweetest woman who ever has stood or ever willstand here in it. "

XIX. --ALL THE APRIL STARS ARE OUT

It was an April night--balmy with the breath of an exceptionally earlyspring. All the April stars were out as Anthony came to the door of thelittle house, and opening it flung himself out upon the porch, drawinggreat breaths. He looked up into the sky and clasped his arms tightly overhis breast. 

"O God, " he said aloud, "take care of her--"

He went back into the house after a minute, and paced the floor back andforth, back and forth, stopping at each turn to listen at the foot of thestairs; then took up his stride again, his lips set, his eyes dark withanxiety. Over and over he went to the open door to look up at the stars, as if somehow he could bear his ordeal best outdoors. 

When half the night had gone Mrs. Dingley came downstairs. Anthony met herat the foot. She smiled reassuringly into his face. 

"This is hard for you, dear boy, " she said. "But they think bymorning----"

"Morning!" he cried. 

"Everything is going well----"

"It's only two o'clock. Morning!"

"She says tell you she's going to be very happy soon. "

But at that Anthony turned away, where his face could not be seen, andstood by the open door. Mrs. Dingley laid an affectionate hand on hisarm. 

"Don't worry, Tony, " she said gently. 

"I can't help it. "

"This is new to you. Juliet is young and strong--and full of courage. "

"Bless her!"

"In the morning you'll both be very happy. "

"I hope so. "

"Why, Anthony, dear, " said the kindly little woman, "I never knew you tobe so faint of heart. "

Anthony faced around again. "If my strength could do her any good I'd be alion for her, " he said. "But when all I can do is to wait--and think whatI'd do if----"

He was gone suddenly into the night. With a tender smile on her lips Mrs. Dingley went on upon the errand which had brought her downstairs. "It'sworth something to a woman to be able to make a man's heart ache likethat, " she said to herself with a little sigh. Anthony would not haveunderstood, but even in this hour the older woman, in her wisdom, wasenvying Juliet. 

Morning came at last, as mornings do. With the first streaks of the graydawn Anthony heard a little, high-keyed, strange cry--new to his ears. Heleaped up the stairs, four at a time, and paused, breathless, by theclosed door of the blue-and-white room. After what seemed to him aninterminable time Mrs. Dingley came out. At sight of Anthony her facebroke into smiles, and at the same moment tears filled her eyes. 

"It's a splendid boy, Tony, " she said. "I meant to come to you the firstminute, but I waited to be perfectly sure. He didn't breathe well atfirst. "

But Anthony pushed this news aside impatiently. "Juliet?" he questionedeagerly. 

"She's all right, you poor man, " Mrs. Dingley assured him. "You shall seeher presently, just for a minute. The first thing she said was, 'TellTony. ' Go down now--I'll call you soon. "

Anthony stole away downstairs to the outer door again. This time he ranout upon the porch and down the lawn and orchard, in the early half-light, to the willow path by the brook. He dashed along this path to its end andback again, as if he must in some way give expression to his relief fromthe tension of the night. But he was back and waiting impatiently longbefore he received his summons to his wife's room. 

On his way up he wrung the friendly hand of Dr. Joseph Wilberforce, thebest man in the city at times like these, and thanked him in a few unevenwords. Then he came to the door of the blue-and-white room. 

"Don't be afraid, Tony, " said a very sweet, clear voice; "we're ever sowell--Anthony Robeson, Junior, and I. "

Anthony Robeson, Senior, walked across the room in a dim, gray fog whichobscured nearly everything except the sight of a pair of eyes which wereshining upon him brightly enough to penetrate any fog. At the bedside hedropped upon his knees. 

"I suppose I'm an awful chump, " he murmured, "but nothing ever broke me upso in all my life. "

Juliet laughed. It was not a sentimental greeting, but she understood allit meant. "But I'm so happy, dear, " she said. 

"Are you? Somehow I can't seem to be--yet. I'm too badly scared. "

"He's such a beautiful big boy. "

"I suppose I shall be devoted to him some time, but all I can think of nowis to make sure I've got you. "

The pleasant-faced nurse in her white cap came softly in and glanced atTony meaningly. 

"If you'll come in here you may see your son, Mr. Robeson, " she said, andwent out again. 

Anthony bent over his wife. "_Little mother_, " he whispered, with a kiss, and obediently went. 

Across the hall he stood looking dazedly down at the round, warm bundlethe nurse laid in his arms. 

"My son, " he said; "how odd that sounds. "

Then he hastily gave the bundle back to the nurse and got away downstairs, wiping the perspiration from his brow. 

"Never dreamed it was going to knock me over like this, " he was saying tohimself. "I can't look at her; I can't look at him; I feel like a big boywho has seen a little fellow take his thrashing for him. "

And in this humble--albeit most sincerely thankful--frame of mind heabsently drank his breakfast coffee, and never realised that in herconfusion of spirit good Mary McKaim, who was here again in time of need, had brewed him instead a powerful cup of tea. 

XX. --A PRIOR CLAIM

"Come up, come up--you're just the people we want, " cried Anthony heartilyfrom his own porch. "Thought you'd be getting out to see us some of thesefine August nights. Sit down--Juliet will be out in a minute. "

"Baby asleep?" asked Judith Carey, as she and Wayne settled comfortablyinto two of the deep bamboo chairs with which the porch was furnished. 

"To be sure he's asleep at this hour, " Anthony assured her proudly; "beenasleep for two hours. Regular as a clock, that youngster. Nurse trainedhim right at the beginning, and Juliet has kept it up. Four months oldnow, and sleeps from six at night till four in the morning without waking. How's that?"

"I suppose it's remarkable, " agreed Wayne meekly, "but I don't knowanything about it. He might sleep twenty-three hours out of twenty-four--Ishouldn't understand whether to call him a prodigy or an idiot. "

"Why, yes, you would, " Judith interposed with spirit. "Think of that babyon the floor above us. They're walking the floor half the night withher. "

"Girl babies may be different, " Carey suggested diffidently, at whichAnthony shouted. "I don't care--all the girls I ever knew wanted to sit upnights, " Carey insisted with a feeble grin. 

Juliet came out, welcoming her friends with the cordiality for which shewas famous. "It's so hot in town, " she condoled with them. "You should getout into our delicious air oftener. Somehow, with our breezes we don'tmind the heat. "

"It's heaven here, anyhow, " sighed Carey, stretching back in his chairwith a long breath. Judith looked sober. 

"You say it's heaven, " commented Anthony, staring hard at his friend, "andyou profess to admire everything we do, and eat, and say, but you continueto pay good money every week for a lot of extremely dubious comforts--frommy point of view. "

"It's one of the very best places in that part of the city, " protestedJudith. 

Anthony eyed her keenly. "Yes; if that's what you're paying for you've gotit, I admit. If it's a consolation to you to know that the address yougive when you go shopping is one that you're not ashamed of--why, you'reall right. But I reckon Juliet here doesn't blush when she orders thingssent home to the country. "

"Oh, Juliet--" began Judith; "she doesn't need an address to make all thesalespeople pay her their most respectful attention. She----"

"I understand, " said Anthony. "That sweetly imperious way of hers when sheshops--I remember it the first time I ever went shopping with her----"

Juliet gave him a laughing glance. "If I remember, " she said, "it wasn't Iwho did all the dictating on that historic expedition when we furnishedthis house. "

"We've got to go shopping again, " Anthony informed them. "We're planningto put a little wing on the house, opening from under the stairs in theliving-room, for a nursery and a den. "

"Going to put the two together?" asked a new voice from the dimness of thelawn. 

"Oh--hullo, Roger Barnes, M. D. , F. R. C. S. --come up. No, I think we'll havea partition between. But I want a room below stairs for Tony, Junior, sohis mother won't wear herself out carrying him up and down. That youngsterweighs seventeen pounds and a fraction already. "

"I was confident I'd get some statistics if I came out, " said the doctor, settling himself near Juliet--with a purpose, as she instantly recognised. "It seemed to me I couldn't wait longer to learn how much he had gainedsince I met Tony day before yesterday. It was seventeen without thefraction then. "

"That's right--guy me, " returned Anthony comfortably. "I don't mind--I'vethe boy. "

 * * * * *

"I want a talk with you, " said the doctor softly to Juliet, as the othersfell to discussing the project of the enlarged house. "I've got to haveit, too--or go off my head. "

Juliet nodded, understanding him. Presently she rose. "I have an errand todo, " she said. "Will you walk over to the Evanstons' with me, Roger?"

"Now, tell me, " began the doctor the instant they were off, "is she goingto persist in this awful sacrifice?"

"Poor Rachel, " breathed Juliet. "So many lovers--and so unhappy. "

"Is she unhappy?" begged the doctor. "Is she? If I only were sure ofit----"

"What girl wouldn't be unhappy--to be making even one man out of two asmiserable as you?"

"But you know what I mean. Is she going to marry Huntington out of love aswell as pity--or only pity?"

"Roger"--Juliet stood still in the road, regarding him in the dim lightwith kind eyes--"if I knew I wouldn't tell you. That's Rachel's secret. But I don't know. She's as loyal as a magnet, and as reserved as--youwould want her to be if you were Mr. Huntington. "

"She's everything she ought to be. I'm a dastard for saying it, but Icould forgive her for being disloyal enough to him to show me just acorner of her heart. Even if she loves him it's what I called it--an awfulsacrifice--a man dying with consumption. If she doesn't--except as thefriend of her early girlhood, when she didn't know men or her ownheart--Juliet, it's impious. "

"Roger, dear, keep hold of yourself, " Juliet replied. "You're too strongand fine to want to come between her and her own decision--if she has madeit. "

"If you were a man, " said he hotly, "would you let a woman marryyou--dying?"

"Yes, " answered Juliet stoutly, "if she insisted. "

"Women are capable of saying anything in an argument, " he growled. "I sayit's outrageous to let her do it. She doesn't love him--she does love me, "he blurted. 

Juliet turned to him anxiously. "Roger, do you know what you are saying?"

"Yes, I do. I've got to tell somebody, and there's nobody but you--youperfect woman. If ever a man knew a thing without its being put into wordsI know that. It was only a look, weeks ago, but I'm as sure of it as I amof myself. I've had nothing but coolness from her since, but that's inself-defense. And the thought that, loving me, she's going to give herselfto him--a wreck--do you wonder it's driving me mad?"

"You ought not to have told me this, " said Juliet, tears in her voice. "IfRachel is doing this it's because she's sure she ought----"

"Of course she is. And that's why I tell you. You have more influence withher than any one. Can't you show her that duty, the most urgent in theworld, never requires a thing like that? Let her be his friend to thelast--the sort of friend she knows how to be, with a warm hand in his coldone. But never his----"

The doctor grew choky with his vehemence, and stopped short. Juliet wassilent, full of distress. She thought of the two men--Huntington, a frailghost, in the grip of a deadly illness, yet fighting it desperately, anddesperately clinging to the girl he loved: a clever fellow, educated as amining engineer, successful, even beginning to be distinguished in hiswork until his health gave out; Barnes, the embodiment of strength, standing high in his profession, life and the world before him, a fit matefor the girl who deserved the best there could be for her--Juliet thoughtof them both and found her heart aching for them--and for Rachel Redding. 

They were slowly approaching the brown house at the foot of the hill, theerrand at the Evanstons' forgotten, when suddenly a familiar figure inwhite came toward them from the doorway. The doctor started at sight ofit, and Juliet grew breathless all at once. 

"I thought it was you two, " said Rachel. "This rising moon struck you fulljust now, and I could see you plainly. I've wanted to see you both--andthis is my last chance. I am going away to-morrow. "

There was an instant's silence, while Roger Barnes tried to choose whichof all the things he wanted to say to her should come first. Juliet brokethe stillness. 

"Walk back up the road with us, dear, " she said, "and tell us how andwhere you go. "

"I have but a minute to spare, " said Rachel. "Let me say good-bye to youboth here----"

"No, by heaven, you shall not, " burst out the doctor in a suppressed voiceof fire which startled Juliet. "You owe me ten minutes, in place of thelast letter you haven't answered. There are a score of them, you know--butthe last has to be answered somehow. "

Rachel hesitated. "Very well, " she said at length, "but only with Mrs. Robeson. "

"Can't you trust me?" He was angry now. 

"Yes--but not myself, " she answered, so low he barely caught the words. Heseized her hand. 

"Then trust me for us both, " he said, so instantly gentle and tender thatJuliet found it possible to say what a moment before she had thoughtunwise enough: "Go with him, Ray, dear. I think it is his right. "

So presently she found herself crossing her own lawn alone, while the twowho had just left her went slowly on up the road together. Her heart wasbeating hard and painfully, for she loved them both, and foresaw for themonly the hardest interview of their lives. 

 * * * * *

At the end of half an hour Rachel Redding stood again upon her own porch, and Roger Barnes looked up at her from the walk below with heavy eyes. 

"At least, " he said, "you have done what I never would have believed evenyou could do--convinced me against my will that you are right. You lovehim--he worships you. There is a promise of life for him in Arizona--withyou. I can't forbid the bans. But I shall always believe, what you darenot dispute, that if I had come first--you----"

She held out her hand. "That you must not say, " she said. "But there isone thing you may say--that you are my best friend, whom I can counton----"

"As long as there is life left in me, " he answered fervently. He wrung herhand in both his, looked long and steadily up into her face as if his eyescould never leave the lovely outlines showing clear in the light from thewindows, then turned away and strode off toward the station without a lookbehind. 

XXI. --EVERYBODY GIVES ADVICE

"I should do it in brown leather, " said Cathcart decidedly, looking abouthim. 

He stood in the centre of Anthony's den. The carpenters had gone, theplasterers had finished their work, and the floor had just been swept up. 

"You're all right as far as you go, " observed Anthony, who stood at hiselbow, "but you don't go far enough. If you want me to hang these wallswith brown leather you'll have to put up the money. I may be sufficientlyprosperous to afford the addition to my house, but I haven't reached thestage of covering the walls with cloth-of-gold. "

"Burlap would be the thing, Tony, " Judith suggested. 

Anthony was surrounded by people--the room was half full of them, elbowingeach other about. 

"Paint the walls, " advised Lockwood. 

"There are imitation-leather papers, " said Cathcart, with the air of onecondescending to lower a high standard for the sake of those who could notlive up to it. 

"I suppose so, " admitted Anthony, "at four dollars a roll. I saw a simplething on that order that struck me the other day at Heminways'. I thoughtit might be about forty cents a roll. It was a dollar a square yard. Itold them I would think it over. I haven't got through thinking it overyet. "

"You want a plate-rail, " said Wayne Carey. 

"What for?"

"Why, to put plates, and steins, and things on. "

"Haven't a plate--or a stein. Baby has a silver mug. Would that do?"

Cathcart smiled in a superior way. "You had a lot of mighty fine stuff inyour Yale days, " he remarked. "Pity you let it all go. "

"I shouldn't have cared for that truck now, " Anthony declared easily, though he deceived nobody by it. Most of them remembered, if Cathcart hadforgotten, how the college boy had sacrificed all his treasures at a blowwhen the news of his family's misfortunes had come. It had yielded littleenough, after all, to throw into the abyss of their sudden poverty, butthe act had proved the spirit of the elder son of the house. 

"You certainly will want plenty of rugs and hangings of the right sort, "Cathcart pursued. 

Anthony looked at him good-humouredly. "I can see that you have got to besuppressed, " he said, with a hand on Stevens's collar. "I can tell you ina breath just what's going into this room at present. The floor is to havea matting, one of those heavy, cloth-like mattings. Auntie Dingley haspresented me with one fine old Persian rug from the Marcy library, whichshe insists is out of key with the rest of the stuff. I'm glad itis--it'll furnish the key to my decorations. Then I've a splendid old deskI picked up in a place where they temporarily forgot themselves in settinga price on it. That's going by the window. I've a little Dürer engraving, and a few good foreign photographs Juliet has put under glass for me. Forthe rest I have--what I like best--clear space, pipe-and-hearth room, thebamboo chairs off the porch with some winter cushions in, my books--andthat. "

He pointed to the windows, outside which lay a long country vistastretching away over fields and river to the woods in the distance, turning rich autumn tints now under the late October frosts. 

"It's enough, " said Carey, with the suppressed sigh which usuallyaccompanied any allusion of his to Anthony's environment. "Dens are toostuffy, as a rule. Fellows try to see how much useless lumber they canaccumulate in altogether inadequate space. "

"But you ought to have a couch, " said Judith. 

"Oh, yes, I'm going to have a couch, " assented Anthony, laughing acrossher head at Juliet. "A gem of a couch--we're making it ourselves. You'renot to see it till it's done. It'll be no brickbat couch, either--it'll bea flowery bed of ease--or, if not flowery, invitingly covered with somestunning stuff Juliet has fished out of a neighbour's attic. "

"Now, come and see the nursery, " Juliet proposed, and the party crowdedthrough the door into the living-room, around to the one by its side whichopened into an attractive room behind the den, all air and sunshine. 

"I refuse to suggest, " said Cathcart instantly, "the decorations for thisplace. "

"That's good, " remarked Anthony cheerfully. "So much verbiage out of theway. "

"It'll be pink and white, I suppose, " said Judith. "Pink is the colour forboys, I'm told. "

Behind all their backs Anthony glanced at his wife, affection andamusement in his face. She read the look and smiled back. It was no partof their plan to let the boy grow up alone. And as a mother she seemed tohim far more beautiful than she had ever been. 

"We are going to have a little paper with nursery-rhyme pictures all overit, " explained Juliet. "There are all sorts of softly harmonising coloursin it. And just a matting on the floor with a rug to play on, his whitecrib, and some gay little curtains at the windows. "

"Have you made the partition double-thick, old man?" asked Lockwood. "Thisden-nursery combination strikes me as a little dubious. "

"It's no use explaining to a fiendish old bachelor, " said Anthony, leadingthe way out of the place, "that I'd think I was missing a good deal if Ishould get so far away that I couldn't hear little Tony laugh--or cry. Julie, where's the boy? May I bring him down?"

He disappeared upstairs, whence sounds of hilarity were at once heard. Presently he reappeared on the stairs, bearing aloft upon his shoulder arosy cherub of a baby, smiling and waving a chubby fist at the company. The beauty in his face was an exquisite mixture of that belonging to bothfather and mother. Anthony and his son together made a picture worthseeing. 

Once more Wayne Carey smothered a sigh. But Judith hardened her heart. Since Baby Anthony had come Wayne had been difficult to manage. 

 * * * * *

Lockwood stayed after the others had gone. Sitting smoking before the firewith Anthony after Juliet had left them alone he brought the conversationaround to a point which Anthony had expected. 

"What do you hear of that man Huntington?" he asked, as indifferently as aman is ever able to ask a question which means much to him. 

"Huntington? Why, the last was that he was improving a little, I believe. Arizona is a great place for that sort of thing. "

"Good deal of a sacrifice for her people to go with her way out there. "

"She couldn't leave them behind. Father half-blind--mother a cripple. Iunderstand that Arizona air is bracing them, too. "

"The fellow's own mother was one of the party, wasn't she?"

"I believe so. He's all she has. "

"I don't see, with all those people to chaperon her, why she couldn't havegone along with him without marrying him, " observed Lockwood in a grufftone. 

Anthony smiled. "That would have been a Tantalus draught indeed, " heremarked. "I imagine poor Huntington will need all the concessions he canget if he keeps on breathing even Arizona air. "

"Anthony, " said Lockwood, after a silence of some minutes, during which hehad puffed away with his eyes intent on the fire, "do you fancy RachelRedding cared enough for that man to immolate herself like that?"

"Looks very much like it. "

"I know it looks like it; but if I read that girl right she was the sortto stick to anything she'd said she'd do, if it took the breath out of herbody. How long had she known him--any idea?"

"A good while, I believe. "

"I thought so. Early engagement, you see--ought never to have stood. "

"If you'd been Huntington you'd probably have had the unreasonable notionthat it should. "

"She's a magnificent girl, " said Lockwood, blowing a great volume of smokeinto the air with head elevated and half-shut eyes. "She made those twowho were here with her last summer seem like thirty cents beside her. Nicegirls, too--fine girls--elegant dressers; I don't know what the matterwas. Neither did they. " He chuckled a little. "They couldn't believe theirown eyes when they saw three of us going daft over a girl they wouldn'thave staked a copper on in a free-for-all with themselves. They took itgamely, I'll say that for them. Marie won't have me back. "

"I don't blame her. "

"Neither do I. Haven't got to the want-to-be-taken-back stage--sometimesthink I never shall. One experience like that spoils a man for theaverage girl. The truth is, Tony, the most of them--er--overdo themeet-you-half-way act. I want a girl to keep me guessing till the lastminute. "

"Tell that to the girl, " advised Anthony. 

"I wish I could. Yet there were a good many times when I thought if RachelRedding would just look my way I shouldn't take it ill of her. I wonder ifshe'd have been like that if she hadn't been engaged to another fellow. "

"Probably. " Anthony got up and stretched himself. He was growing weary ofother men's confidences. 

"You're right she would. She's built that way. Yet when you get tofancying what she'd be if she just let herself go and show she cared----"

"Look here, my young friend, " said Anthony, "I advise you to go home andgo to bed. Sitting here dreaming over Mrs. Alexander Huntington isn't goodfor you. What you want to be doing is to forget her. Huntington's going toget well, and they're going to live happily ever after, and you fellowsout here can look up other girls. Plenty of 'em. Only, for the love ofheaven, see if you can avoid all setting your affections on the same girlnext time. It's too rough on your friends!"

XXII. --ROGER BARNES PROVES INVALUABLE

Time went swinging on, and by and by it came to be Tony Robeson, Junior's, second Christmas day. He rode down to breakfast on his father's shoulder, crowing loudly on a gorgeous brown and scarlet rooster, which he had foundon his Christmas tree the evening before. He had been put to bedimmediately thereafter and had gone to sleep with the rooster in his arms. The fowl had a charmingly realistic crow, operated by a pneumatic deviceupon which the baby had promptly learned to blow. He performed upon ituninterruptedly throughout breakfast. 

"See here, my son, " said Anthony, hurriedly finishing his coffee, "let'ssee if you can't appreciate some of your less voiceful toys. Here's arabbit with fine soft ears for you to pull. There's a train of cars. Letme wind it for you. Your Grandfather Marcy must have expended several gooddollars on that--you want to show up an interest in it when he comes outto see you to-day. And here's Auntie Dingley's pickaninny boy-doll--well, I don't blame you for failing to embrace that. Auntie Dingley was born inMassachusetts. "

[Illustration: "Toys which can be relied upon to please a twentymonths old infant. "]

The boy cast an indifferently polite eye on these gifts as their charmswere exhibited to him, and clasped the brown and scarlet rooster to hisbreast. There were moments, half hours even, when he became sufficientlydiverted from his fowl to cease from making it crow, but at intervalsthroughout the day the family were given to understand once for all thatit is not the most expensive and ornate toys which can be relied upon toplease a twenty-months-old infant. Even the automobile presented by Dr. Roger Barnes, and warranted to go three times around the room withoutstopping, was a tame affair to the recipient compared with the rooster'sshrill salute. 

"Remember, Tony, " Juliet had said, a month before Christmas, "you are notto give me any expensive personal gift this year. I care for nothing halfso much as for making the home complete. If--if--you cared to give mesomething toward the bathroom fund----"

"All right, " said Anthony promptly, for he had learned by this time toknow his wife well. The bathroom fund was dear to her heart. The smallroom at the front of the house upstairs, which had been left unfurnished, had been temporarily fitted up as a bathroom by sundry ingenious devicesin the way of a tin bath and a hot and cold water connection, but a fullequipment of the best sort was to be put in as soon as practicable, andthere was a growing fund therefor. 

On Christmas morning, nevertheless, in addition to a generous addition tothe fund, Juliet found beside her plate an exceedingly "personal gift" inthe shape of a little pearl-and-turquoise brooch of rare design, bearingthe stamp of a superior maker. 

"Must I scold you?" she asked, smiling up at him as he stood beside her, watching her face flush with pleasure. 

"Kiss me, instead, " he answered promptly. "And don't expect me to give upmaking you now and then a real present, even though it has to be a smallone. It's too much fun. "

Beside his own plate he found her gift, a set of histories he had longwanted. It was a beautiful edition, and he would have looked reproachfullyat the giver if she had not forestalled him by running around the table tosay softly in his ear, both arms about his neck: "Just at Christmas time, dearest, let me have my way. "

The day was a happy one. Mr. Horatio Marcy and Mrs. Dingley arrived on themorning train and stayed until evening. At the Christmas dinner Judith andWayne Carey and Dr. Roger Barnes were the additional guests, and MaryMcKaim was in the kitchen. Dinner over, everybody sat about the fireplacetalking, when Juliet came in to carry little Tony off to bed. 

"Five minutes more, " begged Dr. Barnes, on whose knee the child sat, awilling captive to the arts of his entertainer. His eyes, bright with theexcitement of this great day, were fixed upon the doctor's face. 

"And so"--Barnes continued the story he had begun--"the rooster climbedright up the man's leg"--the toy obeyed his command and scaled theeminence from the floor where it had been hiding behind a Noah's ark--"andperched on his knee, and cried"--the rooster crowed lustily and littleTony laughed ecstatically. "Then the rooster flew up on the man's shoulderand flapped his wings, and all at once he fell right over backwards andtumbled on his head on the floor. --Got to go to bed, Tony? Shall therooster go too? All right. May I carry him up for you, Juliet? Anthony'sdeep in that discussion. Get on my back, old man--that's the way!"

Everybody looked after the two as the doctor mounted the stairs. 

"That rooster has captivated the child more than all the mechanical toyshe has had to-day, " said Mrs. Dingley. 

"What a handsome fellow he is, " said Carey, his eyes following little Tonytill he disappeared. "I never saw a healthier, happier child. How sturdyhe is on his legs--have you noticed? He's saying a good many words, too. It was as good as a play to see him imitate that rooster. "

Juliet's father and Mrs. Dingley left on an early evening train, and onlythe three younger guests remained when Juliet came downstairs afterputting her boy to bed. She set about gathering up the toys scattered overthe floor, and Barnes helped her. In the midst of this labour, duringwhich they all made merry with some of the more elaborate mechanicalaffairs, Juliet suddenly said "What's that?" and went to the bottom of thestairs. 

"Let me go, " offered Anthony. "He's probably too excited to get to sleepeasily after all this dissipation. --Hullo!--he's crowing with the roosteryet. "

But Juliet went up, and he followed her, saying from the landing to hisguests, "Excuse me for a little. I'll get the boy quiet, and let hismother come down. I've a fine talent for that sort of thing. That roosterwill have to be given some soothing syrup--he's too lively a fowl. "

"I never saw a man fonder of his youngster than Tony, " Carey observed. 

"The child is a particularly fine specimen, " the doctor said. "I think Inever saw a more ideal development than he shows. "

He began to tell an incident in which little Tony had been involved, whenhe was interrupted. 

"Barnes!"--called Anthony's voice from the top of the stairs. "Come uphere, please. "

There was something in the imperative quality of this summons which madethe doctor run up the stairs, two at a time. Judith and Wayne listened. The rooster could still be heard crowing, faintly but distinctly. 

"Perhaps he's grown too excited over it, " Judith suggested. "They ought totake it away. "

Carey went to the bottom of the stairs and listened. There were rapidmovements overhead. The doctor's voice could be heard giving directionsthrough which sounded the steady crowing of the toy. "Hold him so--nowmove him that way as I thump--now the other----"

Carey turned pale. "He's got that rooster in his throat, " he saidsolemnly. The rooster was nearly life-size, but the incongruity of thissuggestion did not strike him. Judith hastily rose from her chair and wentto him. 

"Had we better go up?" he whispered. 

"Heavens--no!" Judith clutched his arm. "We couldn't do any good. Thedoctor's there. Such things make me ill. They ought not to have let himhave the toy to take to bed with him. How could it get into his throat?Perhaps they are making it crow to divert him. Perhaps he's hurt himselfsomehow. "

"He's got the crow part of that thing in his throat, " Carey persisted inan anxious whisper. "The manufacturers ought to be prosecuted for making atoy that will come apart like that. "

"Don't stand there, " protested his wife. "Maybe it's nothing. Come hereand sit down. "

But Carey stood still. Presently Anthony came to the head of the stairs. 

"Wayne, " said he rapidly, "telephone Roger's office. Ask the trainednurse, Miss Hughes, to send a messenger with the doctor's emergencysurgical case by the first train--he can catch the 9:40 if he's quick. Tell Miss Hughes to follow as soon as she can get ready, prepared to stayall night. "

Then he disappeared. His voice had been steady and quiet, but his eyes hadshowed his friend that the order was given under tension. Carey sprang tothe telephone, and his hand shook as he took down the receiver. 

Upstairs Roger Barnes, in command, was giving cool, concise orders, hiseyes on his little patient. When he had despatched Juliet for variousthings, including boiling water which she must get downstairs, he said toAnthony in a conversational tone:

"It will probably not be safe to wait till my instruments get here, andthere's no surgeon near enough to call. I'm not going to take any chanceson this boy. If I see the necessity I'm going to get into that throat andgive him air. I shall want you and Carey to hold him. Juliet must bedownstairs. "

Anthony nodded. He did not quite understand; but a few minutes later, whenJuliet had brought the boiling water, he suddenly perceived what hisfriend meant. 

"Alcohol, now, please, " said the doctor. When Juliet had disappeared againBarnes drew from his pocket a pearl-handled pocket-knife and tried itsblades. "It's a fortunate thing somebody made me a present of such a goodone to-day, " he observed, "but it needs sharpening a bit. Have you anoil-stone handy?"

With tightly shut lips Anthony watched the doctor put a bright edge on hissmallest blade, then, satisfied, drop the open knife into the waterbubbling over a spirit-lamp. Anthony turned his head away for an instantfrom the struggling little figure on the bed. Barnes eyed him keenly. 

"You're game, of course?" he said. 

Anthony's eyes met his and flashed fire. "Don't you know me better thanthat?"

"All right, " and the young surgeon smiled. "But I've seen a medical manhimself go to pieces over his own child. This is a simple matter, " he wenton lightly. "Luckily, boiling water is a more potent antiseptic than allthe drugs on the market--and alcohol's another. I shall want a new hairpinor two--if Juliet has a wire one. --That the alcohol? Thank you. Now ifyou've the hairpins, Juliet--ah--a silver one--all the better. "

This also he dropped into the boiling water. Then he spoke very quietly toTony's mother, as she bent over her child, fighting for his breath. 

"It's a bit tough to watch, " he said, "but we'll have him all rightpresently. Suppose you go and get his crib ready for him. You might fillsome hot-water bags and bottles and have things warm and comfortable. "

The telephone-bell rang below. After a minute Carey dashed upstairs. Helooked into the room and spoke anxiously. "The messenger just missed the9:40. He and the nurse will come on the 10:15. "

"All right, " said the doctor, as if the delay were of small consequence. "We're going to want your help presently, Carey, I think. Just ask Mrs. Carey to keep Mrs. Robeson with her for a few minutes, if she can. "

Carey went down and gave his wife the message, then he hurried back andstood waiting just outside the door. And all at once the summons came. Ina breath the doctor had changed his rôle. He spoke sharply:

"_Now, Robeson--now, Carey--we've waited up to the limit. Keep cool--holdhim like a rock--_"

 * * * * *

Wayne Carey came down to his wife, ten minutes later, smiled tremulously, sank into a chair, and fell to crying like a baby--softly, so that hecould not be heard. 

"But Juliet says he'll be all right, " murmured Judith unsteadily. 

"Yes, yes----" Carey wiped his eyes and blew his nose. "I'm just a littleunnerved, that's all. Lord--and he's dropped off to sleep as quiet as alamb--with Barnes holding the gash in his throat open with a hairpin tolet the air in. When it comes to emergency surgery I tell you it's a luckything to have an expert in the house. Completely worn out--the littlechap. When the nurse comes they'll get out the whistle and sew the placeup. She ought to be here--I'll go meet that train. "

He sprang to his feet and hurried out of the house. Presently he was back, followed by an erect young woman who wore a long coat over the uniform shehad not taken time to change. Carey carried the long black bag she hadbrought with her. 

By and by Anthony and Roger Barnes came down. The former was pale, but asquietly composed as ever; the latter nonchalant, yet wearing that gleam ofsatisfaction in his eye which is ever the badge of the successfulsurgeon. 

"Well, Mrs. Carey, " said the doctor, smiling, "why not relax that tensiona bit? The youngster is right as a trivet. "

"I suppose that's your idea of being right as a trivet, " Judith retorted. "In bed, with a trained nurse watching you, and a doctor staying all nightto make sure. "

"Bless you--what better would you have? If it were any other boy thedoctor would have been home and in bed an hour ago, I assure you. Carey--if you don't stop acting like a great fool I'll put you to bedtoo. "

For Carey was wringing Barnes' hand, and the tears were running unashameddown his cheeks. "I gave him that rooster myself, " he said, and choked. 

Upstairs all was quiet. The little life was safe, rescued at the crucialmoment when interference became necessary, by the skill and daring whichdo not hesitate to use the means at hand when the authorized tools can notbe had. Every precaution had been taken against harm from these sameunconventional means, and the doctor, when he left his patient in thehands of his nurse, felt small anxiety for the ultimate outcome. 

He said this very positively to the boy's father and mother, holding ahand of each and bidding them go peacefully to sleep. He would haveslipped away then, but they would not let him go. There were no tears, nofuss; but Juliet said, her eyes with their heavy shadows of past suspensemeeting his steadily, "Roger, nothing can ever tell you what I feel aboutthis, " and Anthony, gripping his friend's hand with a grip of steel, added: "We shall never thank the Lord enough for having you on hand, RogerBarnes. "

But when the young surgeon had gone, warm with pleasure over the servicehe had done those he loved this night, the ones he had left behind foundtheir self-control had reached the ragged edge. Turning to her husbandJuliet flung herself into his arms, and met there the tenderest receptionshe had ever known. So does a common anxiety knit hearts which had thoughtthey could be no tighter bound. 

 * * * * *

Judith and Wayne Carey, walking along silent streets in the early dawn ofthe day after Christmas on their way to take their train home, had littleto say. Only once Judith ventured an observation to her heavy-eyedcompanion:

"Surely, such a scene as you went through last night must diminish atrifle that envy you are always possessed with, when you're at thathouse. "

But Wayne, staring up at the wintry sky, answered, more roughly than hiswife had ever heard him speak: "_No_--God knows I envy them even at a timelike this!"

XXIII. --TWO NOT OF A KIND

"Yes, they are very pleasant rooms, " Juliet admitted, with the air of oneendeavouring to be polite. She sat upon a many-hued divan, and glancedfrom the blue-and-yellow wall-paper to the green velvet chairs, thedull-red carpet and the stiff "lace" curtains. "You get the afternoon sun, and the view opposite isn't bad. The vestibule seemed to be well kept, andI rang only three times before I made you hear. "

"The janitor promised to fix that bell, " said Judith hastily. "Oh, I knowthe colour combinations are dreadful, but one can't help that in rentedrooms. Of course our things look badly with the ones that belong here. Butas soon as we can we are going to move into a still better place. "

"Going to keep house?"

"No-o, not just yet. " Judith hesitated. "You seem to think there's nothingin the world to do but to keep house. "

"I'm sure of it. "

"I can't see why. A girl doesn't need to assume all the cares of life theminute she marries. Why can't she keep young and fresh for a while?"

Juliet glanced toward a mirror opposite. "How old and haggard I must belooking, " she observed, with--it must be confessed--a touch ofcomplacency. The woman who could have seen that image reflected as her ownwithout complacency must have been indifferent, indeed. 

"Of course, you manage it somehow--I suppose because Anthony takes suchcare of you. But you wait till five years more have gone over your head, and see if you're not tired of it. "

"If I'm as tired of it as you are--" began Juliet, and stopped. "Butseriously, Judith, is it nothing to you to please Wayne?"

"Why, of course. " Judith flushed. "But Wayne is satisfied. "

"Are you sure of it?"

"Certainly. Oh, sometimes, when we go to see you, and you make things sopleasant with your big fire and your good things to eat, he gets a spasmof wishing we were by ourselves, but----"

Juliet shook her head. "Wayne doesn't say a word, " she said, "and he's asdevoted to you as a man can be. But, Judith, if I know the symptoms, thathusband of yours is starving for a home, and--do I dare say it?"

Judith was staring out of the window at the ugly walls opposite. It washer bedroom window, and the opposite walls were not six feet away. 

"I suppose you dare say anything, " she answered, looking as if she wereabout to cry. "I'm sure I envy you, you're so supremely contented. I don'tthink I was made to care for children. "

"That might come, " said Juliet softly. "I'm sure it would, Judith. As forWayne, if you could see the look on his face I've surprised there morethan once, when he had little Anthony, and he thought nobody noticed, itwould make your heart ache, dear. Don't deny him--or yourself--the bestthing that can happen to either of you. At least, don't deny it for lackof a home. I'm sure I can't imagine Tony, Junior, in these rooms of yours. They don't look, " she explained, smiling, "exactly babyish. "

She rose to go. She looked so young and fair and sweet as she spoke hergentle homily that Judith, half doubting, half believing, admitted toherself that of one thing there could be no question: Mrs. Anthony Robesonenvied nobody upon the face of the earth. 

The visits of the Robesons to the various apartments which were inrotation occupied by the Careys were few. Somehow it seemed much easierand simpler for the pair who had no children, and no housekeeping tohamper them, to run out into the suburbs than for their friends to getinto town. So the Careys came with ever increasing frequency, alwayswarmly welcomed, and enjoyed the hours within the little house sothoroughly that in time the influence of the content they saw so oftenbegan to have its inevitable effect. 

"I've great news for you, " said Anthony, coming home one March day, whenlittle Tony was nearing his second birthday. "It's about the Careys. Guess. "

"They are going to housekeeping. "

"How did you know?"

"I didn't know, but Judith told me weeks ago she supposed she should haveto come to it. Have they found a house?"

"Carey thinks he has. Judith doesn't like the place, for about fifty goodand sufficient reasons--to her. He's trying to persuade her. He has anoption on it for ten days. He wants us to come out and look at it withthem. "

"Where is it?"

"About as far east of the city as we are north. If to-morrow is a good dayI promised we would run out with them on the ten-fifteen. I suspect theyneed us badly. Wayne looks like a man distracted. The great trouble, Ifancy, is going to be that Judith Dearborn Carey is still too much of aDearborn to be able to make a home out of anything. And Carey can't do italone. "

"Indeed he can't, poor fellow. I never saw a man in my life who wanted ahome as badly as Wayne does. Let's do our best to help them. "

"We will. But the only way to do it thoroughly is to make Judith over. Even you can't accomplish that. "

"There's hope, if she has agreed at all to trying the experiment, " Julietdeclared, and thought about her friends all the rest of the day. 

It was but five minutes' walk, from the suburban station where the partygot off next morning, to the house which Carey eagerly pointed out as thefour approached. 

"There it is, " he said. "Don't tell me what you think of it till you'veseen the whole thing. I know it doesn't look promising as yet, but I keepremembering the photographs of your home, Robeson, before you went at it. I'm inclined to think this can be made right, too. "

Anthony and Juliet studied Carey's choice with interest. Judith looked ondubiously. It was plain that if she should consent it would be against herwill. 

"It looks so commonplace and ugly, " she said aside to Juliet, as the fourcompleted the tour around the house and prepared to enter. "Your home isold-fashioned enough to be interesting, but this is just modern enough tobe ugly. Look at that big window in front with the cheap coloured glassacross the top. What could you do with that?"

"Several things, " said her friend promptly. "You might put in a row ofnarrow casement windows across the front, with diamond panes. No--theporch isn't attractive with all that gingerbread work, but you could takeit away and have something plain and simple. The general lines of thehouse are not bad. It has been an old-fashioned house, Judith, butsomebody who didn't know how has altered it and spoiled it. People arealways doing that. There must have been a fanlight over this door. Youcould restore it. And do you see that quaint round window in the gable?Probably they looked at that and longed to do away with it, but happilyfor you didn't know how. "

Carey glanced curiously at his friend's wife, then anxiously at his own. Juliet's face was alight with interest; Judith's heavy withdissatisfaction. He wondered for the thousandth time what made thedifference. He would have given a year's salary to see Judith lookinterested in this desire of his heart. It was hard to push a thing likethis against the will of the only person whose help he could not dowithout. Carey was determined to have the home. Even Judith acknowledgedthat she had not been happy in any of the seven apartments they had triedduring the less than four years of their married life. Carey believed withall his heart that their only chance for happiness lay in getting awayfrom a manner of living which was using up every penny he could earnwithout giving them either satisfaction or comfort. His salary would notpermit him to rent the sort of thing in the sort of neighbourhood whichJudith longed for. And if it should, he did not believe his wife wouldfind such environments any more congenial than the present one. Carey hada theory that a woman, like a man, must be busy to be contented. He meantto try it with his handsome, discontented wife. 

"Oh, what a pretty hall!" cried Mrs. Robeson, with enthusiasm. "How luckythat the vandals who made the house over didn't lay their desecratinghands on that staircase. "

"The hall looks gloomy to me, " said Mrs. Carey, with a disapproving glanceat the walls. 

"Of course--with that dingy brown paper and the woodwork stained thathideous imitation of oak. You can scrape all that off, paint it white, puton a warm, rich paper, restore your fanlight, and you'll have aparticularly attractive hall. "

"I wish I could see things that are not visible, as you seem to be ableto, " sighed Judith, looking unconvinced. "I never did like a long, straight staircase like that. And there's not room to make a turn. "

"You don't want to, do you? It's so wide and low it doesn't need to turn, and the posts and rails are extremely good. How about this front room?"

She stood in the center of the front room, and the two men, watching hervivid face as it glowed above her furs, noting the capable, womanly wayshe had of looking at the best side of everything and discerning in aflash of imagination and intuition what could be done with unpromisingmaterial, appreciated her with that full masculine appreciation which itis so well worth the trouble of any woman to win. 

Judith was not blind; she saw little by little as Juliet went from room toroom--seizing in each upon its possibilities, ignoring its poorer featuresexcept to suggest their betterment, giving her whole-hearted, friendlycounsel in a way which continually took the prospective homemakers intoconsideration--that she herself was losing something immeasurably valuablein not attempting to cultivate these same winning characteristics. And inthe same breath Judith was forced to admit to herself that she did notknow how to begin. 

"There is really a very pretty view from the dining-room, " she said, as afirst effort at seeing something to admire. Both Juliet and Anthony agreedto this statement with a cordiality which came very near suggesting thatit was a relief to find Mrs. Carey on the optimistic side of thediscussion even in this small detail. As for Carey, he looked so surprisedand grateful that Judith's heart smote her with a vigour to which she wasunaccustomed. 

"I suppose you could use this room as a sort of den?" she was prompted tosuggest to her husband; and such a delighted smile illumined Carey's facethat the sight of it was almost pathetic to his friends, who understoodhis situation rather better than he did himself. In his pleasure Carey puthis arm about his wife's shoulders. 

"Couldn't I, though?" he agreed enthusiastically. "And you could use itfor a retreat while I was away for the day. "

"A retreat from what? Too much excitement?" began Judith, the old habit ofscorn of everything which was not of the city returning upon herirresistibly. But it chanced that she caught Juliet's eyes, unconsciouslywearing such an expression of solicitude to see her friend complaisant inthis matter which meant so much, that Judith hurriedly followed her ironicquestion with the more kindly supplement: "But doubtless I should haveplenty, and be glad to get away. "

"You certainly would, " asserted Anthony. "We never guessed how much therewould be to occupy us in the country, but there seems hardly time to writeletters. Nobody can believe, till he tries, how much pleasure there is inwheedling a garden into growing, nor how well the labour makes him sleepo' nights. "

"Yes--I think I could sleep here, " said Carey, and passed a hand over abrow which was aching at that very moment. "I haven't done thatsatisfactorily for six months. "

"You'll do it here, " Anthony prophesied confidently. "It's a fine air witha good breath of the salt sea in it, which we don't get. Your sleepingrooms are all well aired and lighted--a thing you don't always find inmore pretentious houses. And when the paint and paper go on you'll ownyourselves surprised at the transformation. I was never so astonished inmy life as I was at the change in the little bedroom in our house whichhas that pale yellow-and-white stripe on the wall. It was a north room, and the old wall was a forlorn slate, like a thundercloud. My littleartist here, with her eye for colours, instantly announced that she wouldget the sunshine into that room. And so she did--with no more potent acharm than that fifteen-cent paper and a fresh coat of white paint. "

Carey looked at Juliet with longing in his eye. He wanted to ask her tosupervise the alterations in his purchase, if he should make it. But heremembered other occasions when he had held the sayings and doings of Mrs. Robeson before the eyes of Mrs. Carey with disastrous result, and he darednot make the suggestion. He hoped, however, that Judith might be inclinedto ask the assistance of her friend, and himself hinted at it, cautiously. But Judith, beyond inquiring what Juliet thought of certain possiblechanges, seemed inclined to shoulder her own responsibilities. 

Anthony left his wife upon the home-bound train, to return to his work;the Careys accompanied him, so that he had no chance to talk things overuntil he came home to dinner at night. But when he saw Juliet again almosther first words showed him where her thoughts were. 

"Tony, I can't get those people off my mind. Do you suppose they will evermake a home out of anything?"

"They haven't much genius for utilizing raw material, I'm very muchafraid, " Anthony responded thoughtfully. "Carey has the will, and he canfurnish a moderate amount of funds, but whether Judith can furnishanything but objections and contrariety I don't dare to predict. If herheart were in it I should have more hope of her. There's one thing I cantell her. If she doesn't set her soul to the giving the old boy a taste ofpeace and rest she'll have him worn out before his time. A fellow whodoesn't know how it feels to sleep soundly, and whose head bothers himhalf the time, needs looking after. He's a slave to his office desk, andneeds far more than an active chap like me to get out of the city as muchas he can. "

"Yes, he's worried and restless, Tony. He's so devoted to Judith and soanxious to make her happy, her dissatisfaction rests on him like a weight. Don't you see that every time you see them together?"

"Every time--and more plainly. What's the matter with her anyhow, Julie?She seemed promising enough as a girl. You certainly found enough in herto make you two congenial. She's no more like you than--electric light islike sunshine, " said Anthony, picking up the simile with a laugh and aglance of appreciation. 

"Judith shines in the surroundings she was born and brought up in, missesthem, and doesn't know how to adapt herself to any others. She ought tohave been the wife of some high official--she could entertain royally andhave everybody at her feet. "

"Magnificent characteristics, but mighty unavailable in the presentcircumstances. It carries out my electric-light comparison. I prefer thesunlight--and I have it. --Poor Carey!"

"We'll hope, " said Juliet. "And if we have the smallest chance to help, we'll do it. "

But, as Anthony had anticipated, there was small chance to help. MeetingCarey a fortnight later, Anthony inquired after the new home, and Careyreplied with apparent lack of enthusiasm that the house had been leasedfor a term of three years, with refusal of the purchase at the expirationof the time. He explained that Judith had been unwilling to burn herbridges by buying the place outright, and that he thought perhaps thepresent plan was the better one--under these conditions. But the fact thatthe house was not their own made it seem unwise to expend very much uponalterations beyond those of paint and paper. With the prospect of a salethe owner had unwillingly consented to replace the gingerbread porch withone in better style, but refused to do more. The big window, with itsabominable topping of cheap coloured glass, was to remain for thepresent. 

"And I think this whole arrangement is bound to defeat my purpose, " saidCarey unhappily. "The very changes we can't afford to make in a rentedhouse are the ones Judith needs to have made to reconcile her to theexperiment. She says she feels ill every time she comes to the house andsees that window. She wants a porcelain sink in the kitchen. She wouldlike speaking-tubes and a system of electric bells. We're to have aservant--if we can find her. We've put green paper on all the downstairsrooms, and it turns out the wrong green. I wanted a sort of corn-colourthat looked more cheerful, but it seems green is the only thing. I don'tknow what's the matter with me. Perhaps I'm bilious. Green seems to be allright in your house, but in mine it makes me want to go outdoors. "

"That's precisely what you should do, " Anthony advised cheerfully. "Getoutdoors all you can. Start your garden. Mow your lawn yourself. Make overthat gravel path to your front door. "

"I've only evenings, " objected Carey. "And we're not settled yet. Thepaper's only just on. We haven't moved. We're buying furniture. We boughta sideboard yesterday. It cost so much we had to get a cheaper range forthe kitchen than seemed desirable, but Judith liked the sideboard so wellI was glad to buy it. I don't know when we shall get to living therepermanently. This furnishing business knocks me out. We don't seem to knowwhat we want. I'd like--" he hesitated--"I hoped Mrs. Robeson might beable to give us the advantage of her experience, but it turns out thatJudith has a sort of pride in doing it herself, and of course--I presumeyou made some mistakes yourselves, eh?" He suggested this with eagerness. 

"Oh, of course, " agreed Anthony readily, though he wondered what theywere, and inwardly begged Juliet's pardon for this answer, given out ofmasculine sympathy with his friend's helplessness. "You'll come out allright, " he hastily assured Carey. "Once you are living in the new placethings will adjust themselves. Keep up your courage. Your daily walk toand from the train will do wonders. Lack of exercise will make a rainbowlook gloomy to a fellow. I think you've great cause for rejoicing thatJudith has agreed to try the experiment at all. And as with allexperiments, you must be patient while it works itself out. "

"That's so, " agreed Carey, a gleam of hope in his eyes; and Anthony gotaway. But by himself the happier man shook his head doubtfully. "Whereeverything depends on the woman, " he said to himself, "and you've marriedone that her Maker never fashioned for domestic joys, you're certainly upagainst a mighty difficult proposition!"

XXIV. --THE CAREYS ARE AT HOME

Wayne and Judith Carey had been keeping house for two months before Judithwas willing to accede to her husband's often repeated request that theyentertain the Robesons. 

"We've been there, together and separately, till it's a wonder theirhospitality doesn't freeze up, " he urged. "Let's have them out to-morrownight, and keep them over till next day, at least. I'd like to have themsleep under this roof. They'd bring us good luck. "

"One would think the Robesons were the only people worth knowing, " saidJudith, with a petulance of which she had the grace, as her husband staredat her, to be ashamed. 

"They're the truest friends we have in the world, " he said, with a dignityof manner unusual with him. "Sometimes I think they are the only peopleworth knowing--out of all those on your calling list. "

"We differ about that. Your ideas of who are worth knowing are verypeculiar. Heaven knows I'm fond of Juliet, but I get decidedly tired ofhaving her held up as a model. And I haven't been anxious to entertain heruntil we were in order. "

"We're certainly as much in order now as we shall be for some time. Let'shave them out. You'll find they'll see everything there is to praise. It'stheir way. "

So Anthony and Juliet were asked, and came. Wayne's prophecy was proven atrue one--even Judith grew complacent as her friends admired the result ofher house-furnishing. And in truth there was much to admire. Judith was ayoung woman of taste and more or less discretion, and if she could havehad full sway in her purchasing the result might have been admirable. Asit was, the unspoken criticism in the minds of both the guests, as theyfollowed their hosts about the house, was that Judith had struck akey-note in her construction of a home a little too ambitious to be whollysatisfactory. 

"I believe in buying the best of everything as far as you go, " she said, indicating a particularly costly lounging chair in a corner of theliving-room. "Of course that was very expensive, but it will always beright, and we can get others to go with it. The bookcases were anotherhigh-priced purchase, but they give an air to the room worth paying for. "

"I've only one objection to this room, " said Wayne with some hesitation. "As Judith says, the things in it seem to be all right, and it certainlylooks in good taste, if I'm any judge, but--I don't know just how toexplain it----" he hesitated again, and smiled deprecatingly at his wife. 

"Speak out, " said Judith. She was in a very good humour, for her guestshad shown so fine a tact in their commendation that she was in quite aglow of satisfaction, and for the first time felt the pleasure of thehostess in an attractive home. "It can't be a serious objection, foryou've liked every single thing we've put into it. "

"Indeed I have, " agreed Carey, eagerly glancing about the brilliantly litroom. "I like it all awfully well--especially in the daylight. The cornerby the window is a famous place for reading. But, you see, I'm so littlehere in the daytime, except on Sundays. Of course I know we lack thefireplace that makes your living-room jolly, but it seems as if we lacksomething besides that we might have, and for the life of me I can't tellwhat it is. "

Anthony knew by a certain curve in the corner of his wife's mouth that shelonged to tell him what it was. For himself, he could not discover. Hestudied the room searchingly and was unable to determine why, attractiveas it really was, it certainly did, upon this cool May evening, lack thelook of warm comfort and hospitality of which his own home was so full. 

"Possibly it's because everything is so new, " he ventured. "Rooms come tohave a look of home, you know, just by living in them and leaving thingsabout. It's a pretty room, all right, and I fancy it will take on thefriendly expression you want when you get to strewing your books andmagazines around a little more, and laying your pipe down on the corner ofthe mantel-piece, you know--and all that. I can upset things for you inhalf a minute if you'll give me leave. "

"You have my full permission, " said Judith, laughing. "I fancy it's justas you say: Wayne isn't used to it yet. He always likes his old slippersbetter than the handsomest new ones I can buy him. Come--dinner has beenserved for five minutes. No more artistic suggestions till afterward. "

The dinner was perfect. It should have been so, for a caterer was in thekitchen, and a hired waitress served the viands without disaster. As adelectable meal it was a success; as an exhibition of Mrs. Carey'scapacity for home making, it was something of a failure. It certainly didnot for a moment deceive the guests. For the life of her, as Juliet tastedcourse after course of the elaborate meal, she could not help reckoning upwhat it had cost. Neither could she refrain from wondering what sort of arepast Judith would have produced without help. 

After dinner, as Wayne and Anthony smoked in front of the firelessmantel-piece in the den, each in a more luxurious chair than was to befound in Anthony's whole house, Judith took Juliet to task. 

"You may try to disguise it, " she complained, "but I've known you too longnot to be able to read you. You would rather have had me cook that dinnermyself and bring it in, all red and blistered from being over the stove. "

"As long as the dinner wasn't red and blistered you wouldn't have beenunhappy, " Juliet returned lightly. "But you mustn't think that she whoentertains may read my ingenuous face, my dear. It isn't necessary that Iattempt to convert the world to my way of thinking. And I haven't told youthat when Auntie Dingley goes abroad with father again this winter I'm tohave Mary McKaim for eight whole months. I can assure you I know how toappreciate the comfort of having a competent cook in the kitchen. "

She got up and crossed the room. "Judith, what an exquisite lamp, " sheobserved. "I'd forgotten that you had it. Was it one of your weddingpresents?"

Judith followed her to where she stood examining an imposing, foreign-looking lamp, with jeweled inlets in the hand-wrought metal shade. "Yes, " she said carelessly, "it's pretty enough. I don't care much forlamps. "

"Not to read by?"

"It's bright enough for anybody but a blind man to read, here. " Judithglanced at the ornate chandelier of electric lights in the centre of theceiling. "The rooms aren't so high that the lights are out of reach forreading. "

"But this is beautiful. Have you never used it?"

"It might be used with an electric connection, I suppose. No, I've neverused it as an oil lamp. I hate kerosene oil. "

"But you have some in the house?"

"Oh, yes, I think so. Wayne insisted on getting some little hand-lamps. Something's always happening to the wires out here. That's one of thenumerous joys of living in the suburbs. "

"Let's fill this and try it, " Juliet suggested, turning a pair of verybright eyes upon her friend. "If you've never lit it I don't believeyou've half appreciated it. You're neglecting one of the prettiest sourcesof decoration you have in the house. Out of sympathy for the giver, whoever he was, you ought to let his gift have a chance to show you itsbeauty. "

"Stevens Cathcart gave it to us, I believe, " said Judith. "Here, let mehave it. I'll fill it, since you insist. But I never thought very much ofit. It was put away in a closet until we came here. It took up so muchroom I never found a place for it. "

"Mr. Cathcart gave it to you? That proves my point, that it's worthadmiring. If there's a connoisseur in things of this sort, it's he. Heprobably picked it up in some out-of-the-ordinary European shop. "

Smiling to herself, as if something gave her satisfaction, Juliet awaitedthe return of her hostess. She understood, from the manner of Judith'sexit with the lamp, that the free and easy familiarity with which guestsinvaded every portion of Anthony's little home, was not to be made aprecedent for the same sort of thing in Judith's. 

The lamp reappeared, accompanied by a lamentation over the disagreeablequalities of kerosene oil for any use whatever. 

"You can put electricity into this and use it as a drop-light, if youprefer, " said Juliet, as she lit it and adjusted the shade. "May I set iton the big table over here? Right in the center, please, if you don't mindmoving that bowl of carnations. There!--Of course you can send it back tooblivion over there on the bookcase if you really don't like it. --But youdo like it--don't you?"

"It's handsomer than I thought it was, " Judith admitted withoutenthusiasm. Juliet glanced up at the blazing chandelier overhead. 

"May I turn off some of this light?" she asked. "You won't get the fullbeauty of your lamp till you give it a chance by itself. "

Judith assented. Juliet snapped off three out of the four lights, andsmiled mischievously at her friend. Then she extinguished the fourth, sothat the only luminary left in the room was the lamp. Judith groaned. 

"Maybe you like a gloomy room like this. I don't. Look at it. I can hardlysee anything in the corners. "

"Wait a little bit. You're so used to the glare your eyes are not good forseeing what I mean. Study the lamp itself a minute. Did you ever seeanything so fascinating as the gleam through those jewels? An electricbulb inside would add to the brilliancy, though it's not so soft a lightto read by, and the effect in the room isn't so warm. Observe thosecarnations under the lamplight, honey? Come over here to the doorway andlook at your whole room under these new conditions. Isn't itcharming?--enticing?--Let's draw that lovely Morris chair up close to thetable, as if you were expecting Wayne to come in and read the eveningpaper by the lamp. _There!_"

Juliet softly clapped her hands, her face shining with friendlyenthusiasm. There could be no question that the whole room, as she hadsaid, had taken on a new look of homelike comfort and cheer which it hadlacked before. Even Judith was forced to see it. 

"It looks very well, " she admitted. "But I should have more light fromabove. I like plenty of light. "

"So do I, if you manage it well. " Whereupon the guest, having gained herpoint and made sufficient demonstration of it, turned the conversationinto other channels. But the lamp was not yet through with its position ofreformer. The two men, having finished their cigars, and hearing sounds ofmerriment from the adjoining room, came strolling in. Anthony, comprehending at a glance the change which had come over the aspect of theroom and the cause thereof, advanced, smiling. But Carey came to astandstill upon the threshold, his lips drawn into an astonished whistle. 

"What's happened?" he ejaculated, and stood staring. 

"Do you like it?" asked his wife. 

"I should say I did. But what's done it? What makes the room look sodifferent? It looks--why it looks like your rooms!" he cried, gazing atAnthony. 

"He can say nothing more flattering than that, " said Judith, evidently notaltogether pleased. "It's the highest compliment he knows. "

Carey stared at the lamp. "I didn't know we had that, " he said. "Is itthat that does it?"

"I fancy it is, " said Anthony. "I never understood it till I was taught, but it seems to be a fact that a low light in a room gives it a morehomelike effect than a high one. I don't know why. It's one of my wife'spet theories. "

"Well, I must say this is a pretty convincing demonstration of it, " Careyagreed, sitting down in a chair in a corner, his hands in his pockets, still studying this, to him, remarkable transformation. "It certainly doeslook like a happy home now. Before, it was a place to receive calls in. "He turned, smiling contentedly, to his wife. Something about the glancewhich she returned warned him that further admiration was unnecessary. Thecontented smile faded a little. He got up and came over to the table. "Now, let's have a good four-handed talk, " he proposed. 

Two hours later, in the seclusion of the guest-room upstairs, Anthony saidunder his breath:

"They're coming on, aren't they? Don't you see glimmerings of hope thatsome day this will resemble a home, in a sort of far-off way? Isn't Judithbecoming domesticated a trifle? She didn't get up that dinner?"

Juliet turned upon him a smiling face, and laid her finger on her lip. "Don't tempt me to discuss it, " she warned him. "My feelings might runaway with me, and that would never do under their very roof. "

"Exemplary little guest! May I say as much as this, then? I'd give a gooddeal to see Wayne speak his mind once in a way, without a side glance tosee if Her Royal Majesty approves. "

But Juliet shook her head. "Don't tempt me, " she begged again. "There'ssomething inside of me that boils and boils with rage, and if I shouldjust take the cover off----"

"Might I get scalded? All right--I'll leave the cover on. Just oneobservation more. When I get inside our own four walls again I'm going togive a tremendous whoop of joy and satisfaction that'll raise the roofright off the house!"

XXV. --THE ROBESON WILL

When people are busy and happy the years may go by like a dream. So themonths rolled around and brought little Tony past the third anniversary ofhis birth, and into another summer of lusty development. Except to thegrowing child, however, time seemed to bring slight changes to the littlehome under whose roof he grew. The mistress thereof lost no charm eitherfor her husband or her friends--Anthony indeed insisted that she grewyounger; certainly, as time taught her new lessons without laying handsupon her beauty, she gained attractiveness in every way. 

"You look as much like a girl as ever, " Anthony said to her one morning, as dressed for a trip into town she came out upon the porch where he andlittle Tony were frolicing together. 

"You had ever a sweetly blarneying tongue, " said she, and bestowed aparting caress impartially upon both the persons before her. "I feel a bitguilty at making a nursemaid of you for even one morning of your vacation, but----"

"That's all right. Do your errands with an easy conscience. I'll enjoylooking after the boy, and am rather glad your usual little maid is away. That's one thing my vacation is for--to get upon a basis of mutualunderstanding and confidence with my son. We see too little of eachother. "

So Juliet caught the early car, and left the two male Robesons together, father and son, waving good-bye to her from the porch. When she was out ofsight the elder Robeson turned to the younger. 

"Now, son, " he said, "I'm going to mow the lawn. What are you going todo?"

"I is going to mow lawn, too, " announced Tony, Junior, with decision. 

"All right, sir. Here we are. Get in front of me and mind you push hard. That's the stuff!"

All went joyously for ten minutes. Then little Tony wriggled out frombetween his father's arms and went over to the porch step. He sat down andcrossed two fat legs. He leaned his head upon his hand, his elbow on hisknee, and watched with serious eyes the progress of the lawn-mower threetimes across before he said wistfully:

"Favver, I wis' you'd p'ay wiv me. "

"When I get this job done perhaps I will, " said Anthony, and made thegrass fly merrily. Presently he put away the lawn-mower, and stood lookingdown at the sturdy little figure in the blue Russian blouse. "What do youwant to play?" he asked. Tony's face lit up. 

"Le's play fire-endjun, " he proposed enthusiastically. 

"Where shall we play the fire is?"

"Le's have weal fire, " said Tony eagerly. 

"Real fire? Well, I don't know about that, son, " his father respondeddoubtfully. "Young persons of three are not considered old enough to playwith the real thing. Won't make believe do just as well?"

"No, no--weal fire, " repeated the child. "Le's put it out wiv sqi'ytwatto. P'ease, favver--p'ease!"

"Sqi'wt watto, " repeated Anthony, laughing. "What do you mean by----? Oh, I see----" as Tony demonstrated his meaning by running to the garden hosewhich remained attached to a hydrant behind the house. "Well, son--if Ilet you have a real fire and put it out with real water, will you promiseme never to try anything of that sort by yourself?"

Tony walked over to his father and laid a little brown fist in Anthony's. "Aw wight, " he said solemnly. Anthony looked down at the clasped hands andsmiled at the serious uplifted face. "Is that the way mother teaches youto promise her?" he asked, with interest. 

Tony nodded. "Aw wight, " he said. "Come on. Le's make fire!"

The fire was made, out of a packing-box brought up from the cellar. Itburned realistically down by the orchard, and was only discovered bychance when Anthony Robeson, Junior, happened to glance that way. 

"_Fire!--fire!_" he shouted, and alarmed the fire company, who, as firecompanies should be, were ready to start on the instant. The hose-cart, propelled by a pair of stout legs, made a gallant dash down the edge ofthe garden, followed by the hook-and-ladder company, their equipment justthree feet long. It took energetic and skilful work to quench theconflagration, which raged furiously and made plenty of good black smoke. The fire chief rushed dramatically about, ordering his men with ringingcommands. Once he stubbed his bare toe and fell, and for a moment itlooked as though he must cry, but like the brave fellow that he was hesmothered his pain behind an uplifted elbow, and in a moment was again inthe thick of the fray. His men obeyed him with admirable promptitude, although, contrary to the usual custom of fire chiefs, he himself tookhold of the hose and poured its volume upon the blazing structure. 

When the fire was out the chief, breathless, his blue blouse bearing themarks of the encounter with flood and flame, sat down upon the overturnedhose-cart and beamed upon his company. 

"Vat was awful nice fire, " he said. "Le's have anuver. "

"Another? Oh, no, " protested the company, hastily. "No more of that justnow. Pick up your hook-and-ladder wagon and put it back where it belongs. I'll see to the hose. "

Anthony gently displaced the fire chief and rolled away the hose. Then helooked back down the garden and saw his son poking among the ruins of thefire. "Come here, Tony, " he called, "and bring the hook-and-ladder. "

Tony came slowly, but without the toy wagon. Anthony stood still. When theboy reached him he said, "Why didn't you bring the hook-and-ladder cart?"

"'Cause I'm ve chief, " Tony responded gravely. "My mens'll bring vecart. "

"Your men aren't there. You'll have to bring it yourself. "

Tony shook his head. "I'm ve chief, " he repeated, and looked his father inthe eye. Anthony understood. It was not the first time. There were momentsin one's experience with Anthony Robeson, Junior, when one seemed toencounter a deadlock in the child's will. Reasoning and commands were aptat such times to be alike futile. The odd thing about it was that it wasimpossible to predict when these moments were at hand. They arose withoutwarning, when the boy was apparently in the best of tempers, and they didnot seem to be the result of any previous mismanagement on the part ofthose in authority over him. 

Of one point Anthony, Senior, was sure. The child, like all children, andpossibly more than most, possessed a vivid imagination. When he announcedhimself to be a fire chief, there could be no question that he believedhimself to be for the time that which he pretended to be. His fatherunderstood, therefore, that to make progress with the boy it was necessaryto get back to the standpoint of reality before commands could be expectedto take hold. So he sat down on a rustic seat near Juliet's roses andspoke in a pleasantly matter-of-fact way. 

"Yes, you've been a fire chief, son, and a good one. That was a greatgame. But the game is over now, and you're not a fire chief any more. You're Tony Robeson, and the little hook-and-ladder cart is yourplaything. Father wants you to bring it here and put it in its place inthe house. It looks a little bit like rain, and the cart mustn't be leftout to get wet. See?"

But Tony still shook his head. "My men'll put it in, " he said, withcalmness undisturbed. 

"You haven't any men. You played there were some, but the play is over andthere aren't any men. If you don't put the cart in it may get wet. "

"I'm ve chief, " said little Tony. "Chiefs don't draw carts. "

"When they've turned back to little boys they do. You've turned back to alittle boy. "

"No, I hasn't, " said Tony, and his eyes met his father's unflinchingly. "I's going to be a chief all ve time. "

The argument seemed unanswerable. Anthony considered swiftly what to do. He studied the grave brown eyes an instant in silence, their beauty andthe inflexibility in their depths appealing to him with equal force. Heloved the tough little will. He recognised it as his own--the samepowerful quality which had brought him thus far on the road to fortuneafter being landed at the furthermost end from the goal. He would not forworlds deal with his son's will in any but the way which should seem tohim wisest. 

He rose from his seat. He spoke quietly but with force. "Very well, " hesaid. "If you're still a fire chief, of course you're too big to play. I'mmuch obliged to you for putting out my fire. But now that it's out I don'twant your hook-and-ladder in my garden any longer. When your men take itaway I shall be glad. But of course we can't play any more till you stopbeing a fire chief and the hook-and-ladder is back in its corner in thenursery. Good-bye. When you are ready to be Tony Robeson again, you'llfind me in my den. "

He smiled at his son and walked away. Tony watched him go. Tony's handswere clasped behind his back, his legs planted wide apart. 

Anthony, Senior, found it difficult to remain in the den. He was obligedto keep track of a small figure in a blue blouse from whichever of thevarious windows commanded the doings of that young person. He perceivedthat the fire chief was still holding dominion over the scene. 

At the end of an hour small footsteps were heard approaching. Anthonylooked up from the letter he was attempting to write. "Favver, may I havea bread and butter?" asked a pleasant voice. Anthony turned about in hischair. 

"Is the hook-and-ladder in the nursery?" he inquired gravely. 

Tony shook his head. 

"Oh, then you are still the fire chief. Fire chiefs go to the hotel fortheir bread and butter. I haven't any bread and butter for the firechief. "

He turned back to his desk. The small figure in the doorway stood still amoment, then the footsteps were heard retreating. Five minutes later, Anthony, looking out, saw Tony careering about the garden on ahobby-horse. 

"Obstinate little duffer, " he said affectionately to himself. "He'splaying go to the hotel, I suppose. Perhaps when that imagination of hisgets to work at hypothetical bread and butter he'll find the realitypreferable to the fancy. "

In a short time Anthony again reconnoitred. The garden was empty. Helooked out at the front of the house. No small figure in blue was to beseen. He went out and took a turn about the place. He called the boy;there was no response. From past experience and from the statements ofJuliet and the young girls of the neighbourhood, whom, at various times, she was in the habit of engaging to assist her in the oversight of thechild at his play, he knew that Tony had a trick of getting himself out ofsight in an incredibly brief space of time. 

"As a fire chief he may consider himself free to do what he pleases, " saidAnthony to himself, and set about a thorough search of the place, havingno doubt that at any moment he should come upon the boy carrying out thedetails of his imaginary vocation. After a time he went back into thehouse and scoured it from top to bottom. And when, even here, there was tobe discovered no trace of the child, he began to feel a slightuneasiness. 

There was no source of immediate danger to a stray child in theneighbourhood, of which he was aware, except the electric line, and littleTony had never manifested the slightest inclination to approach this byhimself. There were no open ponds, no traps of any kind for the incautiousfeet of a three-year-old. Everybody knew Tony, and everybody admired andloved him, so that, as Anthony took up his hat and started upon a moreextended search, he had no doubt whatever of finding the runaway withoutdelay. 

In a very short time it became a rousing of the neighbourhood. It wasSaturday, and all the children who knew Tony were at hand. They were sooneagerly searching for him near and far, without finding the slightesttrace of his passing. Anthony, now thoroughly alarmed, telephoned in everydirection, warned every police station in the city, and took everypossible step for the discovery of the child. It occurred to him withtremendous force that the boy might have been stolen. Such things didhappen. It seemed almost the only way to account for such a sudden andmysterious disappearance. 

Before it seemed possible two hours had slipped past. And now, on everycar which whirled by the corner, Anthony began to expect Juliet. Hedreaded yet longed to see her. He turned cold at the thought of tellingher the situation, yet at the same time he felt as if she might have somesort of a solution ready which nobody else had thought of. And while, still searching over and over the entire ground, he kept watch of thearriving cars, he saw his wife suddenly appear. He went to meet her. 

"What is it?" she said, the instant her eye met his. 

"I think it's all right, dear, " he told her, as quietly as he could, "butsomehow we can't find Tony. He disappeared during five minutes when I wasin the house--too short a time for him to have got very far away, but--wecan't find him. Do you think he may be hiding? Does he ever hide himselfso effectually as that?"

The bright colour in her face had slipped out of it on the instant, for hecould not keep the anxiety out of his voice. But she said no word ofreproach, nor did she lose command of herself in any way. 

"How long has he been gone?" she asked, going straight toward the house, Anthony close behind her. 

"I think--I am afraid--nearly two hours. I will tell you what happened. Itis possible something I said is responsible for all this, though I don'tknow. "

She was going swiftly about the house, as he told her the story of hisattempt to teach the boy a lesson, and she was listening closely to everyword as she examined for herself each nook and corner. She disclosedseveral possible hiding places of which Anthony had not thought, explaining that Tony knew them all and sometimes betook himself to them inthe course of various games. The two came out upon the porch, and Julietstood still, thinking. 

"You have done everything to intercept him, if he should really have--gotfar away?"

"Everything I can think of, except start out myself. I am ready to dothat, if you think best. "

"Not until I have gone over the neighbourhood myself. I don't believe heis far away--I believe he is near. He may have heard every call you andthe children have made, and wouldn't answer. If by any chance his pridehas been a little hurt, he is very likely to do this sort of thing. Wait--have you looked--I wonder if the children know----"

She was off without stopping to explain, through the garden and down theold willow-bordered path by the brook. Anthony followed. "I've been downhere a dozen times, " he called. "The brook is too shallow to hurt him, andhe's certainly not anywhere on it within a mile. The children have beenall over the ground. "

But Juliet did not pause. She ran along the path for some distance, thenturned abruptly at a point where an abandoned lot filled with stumpsjoined the area by the brook. She made her swift way among these stumps, Anthony following, his hope rising as he noted the directness of hiswife's aim. At the biggest stump she came to a standstill, carefully swungout-ward like a door a great slab of bark, and disclosed a hollow. Thesunlight streamed in upon a little heap of blue, and a tangled brown massof hair. Anthony Robeson, Junior, lay fast asleep in his cunningly devisedretreat. 

Without a word his father stood looking down at the boy's flushed cheeks. Then he turned to Juliet, standing beside him, smiling through the tearswhich had not come until the anxiety was past. His own eyes were wet. 

"That was a bad scare, " he said softly. "Thank God it's over. "

Then he stooped and gently lifted the fire chief and carried him homewithout waking him. Twenty children flocked joyfully from all about tosee, and hushed their shouts of congratulation at Juliet's smilingwarning. 

Anthony went alone down the garden to the place where the hook-and-laddercart had stood. It was still there. He stood and looked at it, his eyesvery tender but his lips firm. "The little chap didn't give in, " he saidto himself. "It's going to be hard to make him, but for the sake of theRobeson will I think we'll have to take up the job where we left it. I'dmightily like to flunk the whole business now, but I should be a prettyweak sort of a beggar if I did. "

When little Tony had wakened from his nap, and had been washed and brushedand fed, and made fresh in a clean frock, his mother brought him to hisfather. 

"Is this Tony Robeson?" Anthony asked soberly. Tony considered for amoment, then shook his head. 

"I's ve fire chief, " he said, with polite stubbornness. 

"Have your men put away the hook-and-ladder cart?"

"No, favver. "

"Are they going to do it?"

"I didn't tell vem to. "

"Why not?"

"Didn't want to. "

"Listen, son, " said Anthony. "I could make the fire chief put away thecart. I'm stronger than he is, you know. I could make him walk out towhere it lies in the garden, and I could make his hands pick it up andcarry it into the house, and then it would be done. --Don't you think Icould?"

Tony considered. "Es, I fink 'ou could, " he admitted. Evidently thequestion was one he could reflect upon from the standpoint of theoutsider. 

"But I don't want to do that. I want Tony Robeson to put the cart awaybecause his father asks him to do it. Don't you think he ought to dothat?"

"I isn't Tony Robeson, I'se ve fire chief. "

"Were you the fire chief when you woke up, and mother washed you anddressed you and gave you your lunch? I don't think she thought you were. If you had been the fire chief she would have left you to take care ofyourself. "

Tony thought about it. "I dess I'se Tony wiv muvver, " he said. 

"Then you aren't Tony with me?"

The thick locks shook vehemently in the sir with the negative response. "Isaid I was ve fire chief, and I'se got to _be_ ve fire chief, " hereiterated. 

Without question it was a battle of wills. But Anthony's mind was made up. For lack of time to deal with them previous similar issues had been dodgedin various ways, compromises had been effected. It was plain that argumentand reasoning, the wiles of the affectionately wise adversary who does notwant to bring the matter to a direct conflict, had been tried. Anthonycould see no way out except to dominate the child by the force of his ownresolute character. It was not the way by which he wanted to obtain themastery, but it was becoming plain to him that, in this case, at least, itwas the only way left. 

His face grew stern all at once, his eyes, though still kind, met hisson's with determination. "Tony, " he said very gravely--and there was anew quality in his tone to which the child was not accustomed--"You arenot the fire chief now. You are Tony Robeson. _I shall not let you be thefire chief any longer. _ Do you understand?"

There was no threat in the words, only a decisiveness of the sort beforewhich men give way, because they see that there is no alternative. Tonystared into his father's eyes curiously. His own grew big with wonder, with something which was not alarm, but akin to it. He gazed and gazed, asif fascinated. Anthony's look held his; the man's powerful eyes did notflinch--neither did the boy's. It is possible that both pulses quickened abeat. 

Little Tony drew his eyes away at last, turned and started for the door. Silently Anthony watched him as he reached for the knob, turned again, andlooked back at his father. On the very threshold the child stood still andstared back. His brown eyes filled, his red lips quivered. The stern facewhich watched his melted into a winning smile, and Anthony held out hisarms. An instant longer, and his son had run across the floor and flunghimself into them. 

When the childish storm of tears had quieted, and several big hugs hadbeen exchanged, Anthony set the boy down upon the floor and took his hand. Silently the two walked out of the house and down the garden. Thehook-and-ladder cart stood patiently waiting, just where it had waited allday. Little Tony ran to it and picked it up. Over his exquisite face brokethe first smile that had been seen there since the earliest disregardedcommand of the morning. 

"Ve fire chief's gone, " he said. "He was a bad fire chief. "

So together the man and the boy escorted the hook-and-ladder cart to thenursery, and backed it carefully into its stall, between the milk wagonand the automobile. Then the child went to his play. But the man drew along breath. 

"I would rather manage a hundred striking workmen, " he said to himselfwith emphasis. 

XXVI. --ON GUARD

While little Tony had been growing, waxing strong and sturdy: while Juliethad been tending and training him, learning, as every mother does, morethan she could impart: Anthony, in his place, had not stood still. Thestrength and determination he had from the first hour put into his dailywork had begun to tell. His position in a great mercantile establishmenthad steadily advanced as he had made himself more and more indispensableto its heads. 

Cathcart, the successful architect, began to talk about a new home for theman into whose hands Henderson and Henderson were putting large intereststo manage for them, and whose salary, he asserted, must now justify, indeed call for, life under more ideal surroundings than the little homein the unfashionable suburb which poverty had at first made necessary. 

"Let me draw some plans for you, " urged Cathcart, one evening in June, when he had run out to see his friend. Juliet was by chance away, andCathcart took advantage of this to call Anthony's attention, in a politelyfrank fashion, to the shortcomings of his present residence. "It's allright in its way, " he said, standing upon a corner of the lawn withAnthony, and surveying the house critically. "Mrs. Robeson certainlydeserves full credit for the admirable way in which she restored the oldhouse and added just the changes in keeping with its possibilities. I'vealways said it couldn't have been better done, with the means you've toldme you were able to put at her disposal. But the place is too small foryou now. "

"I don't think we feel it so, " said Anthony tentatively, strolling besideCathcart along the edge of the lawn, his hands in his pockets, liftingfriendly eyes at the little house. "Since we put in the bathroom--thatsmall room off the upper hall, you know--and added the nursery and den, we're very comfortable. The furnace keeps us warm as toast, and we're soonto have the water system out here, so we won't have to depend upon ourpresent expedients. I'm fond of the place, and I'm confident Mrs. Robesonis devoted to it. "

"I can understand that, " agreed Cathcart. "Of course, the spot where youbegan life together will always have its charm for you both--in fact thesentiment of the matter may blind you to the real inadequacies of theplace for a man in your position. "

"My position isn't so stable that I want to build a marble palace on ityet, " said Anthony, a humorous twinkle in his eye. He enjoyed watchinganother man manoeuvre for his favourable hearing of a scheme. It was anart in which he was himself accomplished; it was one of the points of hisvalue to Henderson and Henderson. 

"Everybody knows that you're in a fair way to become head man with theHendersons, " said Cathcart, "and everybody also knows that you might aswell have struck a gold-mine. It's superb, the way you have come into theconfidence of those old conservatives. "

"That's all well enough; but I don't see that it entails upon me the dutyof laying out all I've saved on a new house. I know what you fellowsare--when you begin to draw plans your love of the ideal runs away withthe other man's pocketbook. "

"Not at all, " declared Cathcart. "Particularly when he's a friend and youunderstand just what he can afford to do. "

"Why don't you talk about enlarging the old house? That's much more likelyto appeal to my desires. "

The two had reached the back of the house and were close by the kitchenwindows. Cathcart reached up and took hold of a sill. With a strong handhe wrenched and pounded about the window, until he succeeded in showingthat it was old and uncertain. 

"That's why, " he said, dusting his hand with his handkerchief. "The houseis old--fairly rotten in places. The minute you began to enlarge it in anyambitious way you'd find it would be cheaper to tear it down and beginagain. But the site, Robeson--the site isn't desirable. The place isrespectable enough, but it has no future. The good building is all goingsouth, not north, of the city. You don't want to spend a lot of moneyhere--you couldn't sell out except at a loss. "

"Your arguments are good, very good, " admitted Anthony; "so good that I'dlike to put you on your mettle to draw me a set of plans for just the sortof thing you think I ought to have--or Mrs. Robeson ought to have, forshe's the one to be considered. Anything will do for me. I'll let you dothis--on one condition. "

"Name it. "

"That you also do your level best to demonstrate to me what a clever manand an artist of your proportions could make out of this house, providedhe really wanted to show the extent of his ability. Now, that's fair. Ifyou really care to convince me you won't fool with this proposition, you'll make a study of the one problem as thoroughly as you do of theother, and let me decide the case on its merits. If I thought you weren'tgiving the old house a fair chance I should take up its cause out of pureaffection. "

He smiled at Cathcart's discontented face with so brilliant a good humourthat the architect cleared up. 

"By Jove, Robeson, " he said, "I think I see what endears you to theHendersons. I wouldn't have said you could have induced me to try my handat the old house, but I'll be hanged if I don't follow your instructionsto the letter--and win out, too. "

"Good, " said Anthony. "And don't mention it to my wife. We'll keep it fora surprise; and I promise you when the time comes I won't prejudice her inany way. "

Cathcart drew out a notebook and pencil and entered some memoranda on thespot, while Anthony, coming up on the piazza of the dining-room, laid uponthe old Dutch house-door a hand which seemed to caress it. He waswondering if by any possible magic Cathcart could create, in the rarestabode in the world, a new door which he should ever care to enter as henow cared to enter this. 

 * * * * *

"I think, " said Juliet decidedly, "you're wrong about it. "

"And I know, " returned Anthony with emphasis, "that you are. "

The two faced each other. They were walking through a short stretch ofwoodland, which lay as yet untouched by the hand of suburban propertyowners. It was a favourite ground for the diversions of the Robesons, whenthey had not time to spend in getting farther away. They had beenstrolling through it now, in the early June evening, discussing a matterrelative to the investment of a certain moderate sum of money which hadcome into Anthony's hands. It developed that their ideas about it differedradically. 

"It's not safe to do as you propose, " said Juliet. 

"To do what you propose would be only one better than tying it up in anold stocking--or putting it away in the coffee pot. It's essentially awoman's plan--no man would do it the honour of considering it a moment. "

Juliet flushed brilliantly. Even in Anthony's cheek the colour rose alittle. Their eyes met with a challenge. 

"Very well, " said Juliet proudly. "I'll offer no more woman's plans. Invest the money as you like. Then, when you've lost it----"

Anthony's eyes flashed. "When I've lost it----" he began, and turned awaywith a gesture of impatience. Then he stopped short. "That isn't likeyou, " he said. 

Juliet stared at him an instant. Then she shut her lips together andwalked on in silence. Anthony shut his lips together also. It was nottheir habit to indulge in sharp altercation. While both had decided ideasabout things, both were also much too well bred to be willing to allowdifferences of opinion--which must arise as inevitably as two human beingslive under the same roof--to degenerate into the deplorable thing commonlyreferred to as a quarrel. 

When they had proceeded a few rods Juliet turned abruptly off from thepath and picked up from the ground a slender straight stick, evidently cutand trimmed by some boy and then thrown aside. She looked about her andafter some search found another, of similar size, untrimmed. She held outthe latter to Anthony. He accepted it with a look of surprise. Then shewalked into the path in front of him, stood stiff and straight, her smallheels together, and made him the fencer's salute. "_On guard!_" shecried. 

His lips relaxing, Anthony grasped his stick and fell into position. Amoment more and two accomplished fencers were engaged in close combat. 

Juliet happened to be wearing a trim linen skirt of short walking length, which impeded her movements as slightly as anything not strictly adaptedto the exercise could do. Although her fencing lessons were some yearspast, the paraphernalia belonging both to herself and Anthony were in thehouse, and an occasional bout with the masks and foils was a means ofexercise and diversion which both thoroughly enjoyed. Although Juliet wasno match for the superior skill and endurance of her husband, she wasnevertheless no mean antagonist, and her alertness of eye and hand usuallygave him sufficient to do to make the encounter a stimulating one. 

On the present occasion Anthony, challenged to combat with his coat andcuffs on, and wielding the more awkward weapon of the two impromptu foils, found himself distinctly at a disadvantage. Moreover, he was at the momentnot precisely in the mood for fun, and he began to defend himself with asomewhat lazy indifference. After a minute or two, however, he discoveredthat his adversary's slightly ruffled temper was inspiring her hand andwrist to distinctly effective work, and he found himself forced to look tohis methods. 

Attack and parade, disengagement and thrust--the battle was waged over theuneven ground of the wood. And presently Anthony discovered that therichly glowing face opposite his was a smiling one. The absurdity of thematch struck him irresistibly and he smiled in return. He tripped a littleover an obtruding oak-root, and Juliet took advantage of her opportunityto press him hard. He fended off the attack and himself assumed theaggressive. An instant more and he had disarmed her and had thrown his ownstick flying after hers. Both were laughing heartily enough. 

"Forgive the trick, " cried Anthony. "A man must disarm his wife when shebecomes his enemy. "

Breathless, Juliet sank upon a small knoll, her hand at her side. "If I'dbeen dressed for it--" she panted. 

"You need coaching on your time thrusts, but you gave me plenty to do asit was, " Anthony admitted. "More than that, you've presented me with achance to recover my equilibrium. I was hot inside before. Now it's all onthe outside. "

He looked down at her affectionately. She smiled back. "I was crosser thansticks, " she said. "I really can't imagine why, now. I apologise. "

"So do I. " He threw himself down on the ground at her feet, lay flat onhis back, his clasped hands behind his head, and gazed up into thetree-tops. 

"I'll take your advice into careful consideration, " said he. 

"I know you won't do anything rash, " said she, and they both laughedagain. 

"How much more diplomatic that sort of talk is, " he observed. "Why do weever allow ourselves to use any other?"

"Because we are human, I suppose. " Juliet was putting a mass of wavingbrown hair, disordered by the fight, into shape again. "It isn't nice. Wedon't do it often. To-night you came home tired, and found a wife who hadbeen entertaining people from town all the afternoon. But it's all rightnow, isn't it?"

She bent forward, and Anthony took her outstretched hand in his own andgave it a grip which made it sting. He began to whistle cheerfully. 

"Should we be happier if we never disagreed?" she asked thoughtfully. 

The whistle stopped. "Jupiter, no! I want a thinking being to talk thingsover with, not a mental pincushion. "

"Thank you. --Isn't it lovely here?"

"Delightful. --Julie, do you know we'll have been married five years nextSeptember?"

"It doesn't seem possible. "

"I shouldn't know it, to look at you, " he observed. He rolled upon hisleft side and regarded her from under intent brows. "You haven't grown aday older. "

"I'm not sure that's a compliment. "

"It's meant for one. Do you know you're a beauty?"

"I never was one and never shall be, " she answered laughing, but she couldnot object to the obvious sincerity of his opinion as he delivered it. 

"You're near enough to satisfy me. I'd rather have your good looks thanall the--Well, I sat in front of a newly married pair on the way hometo-night--that fellow Scrivener and his bride. _She's_ what people call araving beauty, I suppose. I wouldn't have her in the house at a dollar anhour. She's a whiner. Had him doing something to satisfy her whim everyminute. I heard him trying to tell her about something that interestedhim, but she couldn't take time from herself to listen. His voice had anote of fatigue in it, already, or I'm not Robeson. I tell you, Juliet--that's the sort of thing that makes a bachelor vow to stay single, and he can't be blamed. "

"Suppose a bachelor had overheard us half an hour ago?"

"I'm glad none did--but if he had it wouldn't have disgusted him the waythe other sort of thing did me to-day. A brisk little altercation isnothing, with unlimited hours of friendliness and understanding before andafter. But a perpetual drizzle of fault finding and exactions--would makea fellow go hang himself. Mrs. Robeson, do you know, you're a veryexceptional young person?"

"In what way, sir?"

"Whatever you do, you never nag. I've an awful suspicion that Judith Careynags. You know how to let a man alone when he's in the mood for beingalone. She never does. Carey had me out there not long ago, for what hecalled a quiet, confidential talk on some business matters. We went intowhat is supposed to be his private room and shut the door. Probably shecame to that door not less than twelve times during that two hours. Shecalled Carey away on every sort of pretext. Once she got him to do astroke of work for her that took up at least ten minutes neither of uscould spare. And she looked like a thundercloud every time I caught aglimpse of her face. Cæsar!--think of having to live with that sort ofperson. No wonder Carey looks old before his time. "

"It's certainly unfortunate. But I'm not an exception, Tony. There areplenty of women who know when to keep out of the way. "

"Well, then, they're erratic on some other line, that's all. You'reabsolutely the only thoroughly sweet and sane woman I know. "

"My dear boy! Remember how snappish I was just this evening. "

"I was grouchy enough to match it. I tell you, Julie--the women who don'ttalk you to death on every subject, important or trivial, bore you withidiotic questions or impertinence about your affairs. How do I know somuch about 'em? My dear, dozens of them come into the office every day, and Mr. Henderson has acquired a habit lately of turning them all over tome. I earn a double salary every hour I spend that way--wish I could putin a demand for it. Speaking of salaries, dear"--Anthony suddenly satup--"I've no right to be grouchy, for I'm promised another advance nextmonth. "

"Splendid!" She put out her hand, and the two shook hands vigorouslyagain, like the pair of comrades they were. 

"Juliet, " said her husband, watching her face closely. "It's been a happyfive years, hasn't it?"

"A happy five years, Tony. "

"Do you mean it?" He smiled at her. "You've never been sorry?" Then he gotto his feet and held out his hand again to help her up. "The mortal combatwe engaged in gave you a magnificent colour, " he commented, and passedaffectionate fingers across the smooth cheek near his shoulder. "Sweetheart----" he drew her into his arms--"I may fence with you once ina while with sharp words for weapons, but--do you know how I love you?"

"I wonder why?"

"It's strange, isn't it?--after all these years. To be really up-to-date, we should long since have become interested each in some other----"

A hand came gently but effectually upon his mouth. He kissed the hand. "No, I won't say it. It's a cynical philosophy, and I'll not take itslanguage on my lips--not with my wife in my arms, giving the lie to thatsort of thing. Julie, we're not sentimentalists because we stillcare----"

"Who thinks we are?"

"Plenty of envious skeptics, I'll wager. I see it in their green-eyedglances. They can't believe it's genuine. Dear--is it genuine? Look up, and tell me. "

She looked up, and seeing his heart in his eyes, met his deep caress witha tenderness which told him more than she could have put into the wordsshe suddenly found it impossible to speak. 

XXVII. --LOCKWOOD PAYS A CALL

"Did you know Roger Barnes was back?" asked Wayne Carey of AnthonyRobeson, on the evening of the twenty-fifth of June, as the two met on thestreet corner from which Anthony was to take his car. Electrics ran withina few rods of his home now, but they ran only at fifteen-minute intervalsand were difficult to catch. 

"No. To stay this time, I hope?"

"Off again to-morrow. Never saw such a fellow--restless as a fish. Beenworking all winter in Vienna--off to-morrow on the Overland Limited tosail Saturday for Hongkong. Goes to do a special operation on theEmperor's brother or some swell of the sort. He's been doing some mightyslick operating, according to the medical review I ran across in a throatspecialist's office. "

"I must see him. Where is he?"

"At your house now, more than likely. Said he'd got to see you, and if youhaven't seen him yet you're sure to before he goes to-morrow night. By theway, Anthony, do you know what we heard lately about RachelRedding--Huntington? That she wasn't married to Huntington till the nighthe died, almost three years ago. "

Anthony stared. 

"Guess it's straight, too, " pursued Carey. "Queer she should have kept itall this time. Didn't Juliet hear from her at all?"

"Only once or twice, I believe. "

"Her father and mother both died last winter. "

"Are you sure?"

"The man who told me was a traveller. Said she and Huntington's motherwere coming back to live East again. He was an Eastern man himself--knewHuntington, and got interested when he heard the name out in Arizona. 'Alexander Huntington's' rather an uncommon name, you know. But what couldhave been her motive for keeping everything so still?"

"I've no idea, " said Anthony, and let Carey talk on by himself till thecar came. He was unwilling to discuss Rachel Redding's affairs on a streetcorner even with Wayne Carey, because she was Juliet's friend. But he hadan idea as to why Rachel had been so reserved about herself. There werethree men in the East whose interest in Huntington's life or death had notbeen an altogether unbiased one. He could understand that the girl wouldnot be eager to declare herself free to them, though the fact ofHuntington's death had reached them soon after its occurrence. But thisother fact--that she had married him only at the last moment--it wasobvious that the sort of girl Rachel Redding was would never make capitalout of that strange occurrence, whatever its explanation might be. ThatRoger Barnes knew nothing of it he was quite certain. 

He missed Juliet from the corner where she and the boy usually met him, and hurrying on to the house came upon his wife just as she was leaving. 

"Oh, I didn't realise I was late, dear, " she said, while Anthony swung hislittle son up to his shoulder, eliciting triumphant shouts as a reward. "Tony, Rachel is here. "

"_Rachel?_"

"Hush--yes; she's upstairs, and her window is open. Walk down the orchardwith me and I'll tell you. Her coming, an hour ago, was what made meforget the time. "

"Carey was talking about her this afternoon, " said Anthony, strolling byher side and carrying on a frolic with the boy at the same time. "He'djust heard a singular thing--that she wasn't married to Huntington tillthe very night he died. "

"She told me. She's going away to-night, she insists; but I shall not lether. No, Mr. Huntington wouldn't let her marry him. After they went awayhe said he wouldn't take her unless he got well. Tony, he was a finecharacter; in our sympathy for Roger Barnes we haven't appreciated him. Itwas only at the last that he let her do it. She found out how happy itwould make him then, and she would have it so. "

"I'm glad she did--poor fellow. Juliet, Roger Barnes is in town. "

"Really?" Juliet stopped, her breath catching. "Oh, Tony----"

"Came day before yesterday--leaves to-morrow night for Hongkong. "

"Tony!"

Anthony looked down at her, smiling. "There's a situation for you. Can yoube expected to keep your friendly hands off that possibility?"

"He won't go away without coming to see us?"

"Most certainly not. "

"Then he will naturally come to-night. "

"It's more than probable. "

"Tony, I won't be trying to manage fate--that's what the doctor callsit--if I keep Rachel here until after----"

"Until after the Overland Limited leaves for San Francisco? Well, fateneeds a little assistance once in a while. I think you may legitimatelypersuade Rachel to stay, if you can. What is her hurry, anyway?"

"I can't find out, except that I imagine she's afraid of meeting one ofthe men she most assuredly would meet if they knew she had come. Shethinks Roger Barnes is in Vienna still. "

"She does? Ye gods! I think my knees will begin to tremble if I see theirmeeting imminent. Come, son, let's try a race to the house. I'll give youto the big, crooked apple tree. One--two--three--go!"

Juliet followed more slowly, thinking busily. Rachel had been very decidedabout going back into the city that night. Mrs. Huntington, Senior, waswith friends, who had begged her daughter's acceptance of theirhospitality, and for the elder woman's sake she had acquiesced. Rachel wasa keeper of promises, Juliet knew. And to tell her of the probability ofthe doctor's appearance would be a doubtful means of securing herdetention. But if, for any reason, the doctor should fail toappear--Juliet made up her mind that she would give fate her chance untilnine o'clock that night. If by that time Barnes had not come----

 * * * * *

Juliet looked on eagerly while Anthony greeted Rachel. Her friend hadnever seemed to her so lovely as now, in her simple black gown, accentuating, as it did, the deep tone of her hair and eyes. Her face hadgained in colour and contour in the Arizona climate--its tints werericher. The delicacy of her features was not changed, but their beauty wasgreater. 

"You've lived much outdoors, I see, " said Anthony, when dinner was overand the three had gone out upon the porch, "and it's been good for you. "

"I've even slept outdoors, " Rachel told them, "fully half the year; andridden horseback every day. I can't quite think how the electrics aregoing to seem in place of my gallop on Scot. The people on the ranch wherewe were have simply made me do the things they did. The owner was a dearold gentleman; he gave me Scot. He wanted to send him after me; but nurseshave small use for horses, I believe, " she ended, smiling. 

"That's the plan, is it?"

"Yes. It's what I can do best, I think. I am to enter the training-schoolthe first of July, at the Larchmont Memorial Hospital. "

"I'll wager tremendous odds you don't, " thought Anthony, "in spite of thatconfident tone. If Roger Barnes looks in to-night it's all up with yourplans--or make a bigger fight than even you can do. A man who can't stayin his own town because you are out of it----"

He was sitting--purposely--where he faced the road. He had consideratelyoffered Rachel a chair with her back to the highway. Juliet was swinginglightly in the hammock behind the vines. Anthony, talking on about Arizonaand the Larchmont Memorial, kept an eye on the approach to the house fromthe corner where visitors always left the car. His watch was rewarded atlength by the sight of a figure rapidly turning the corner and makingstraight for the house. 

"Now we're in for it, " he thought. "From now on the question with Julietand me will be how we can most gracefully efface ourselves without seemingto do it. If I remember this young person correctly she's a littledifficult to leave unchaperoned against her will. "

Out of the corner of his eye he kept track of the approaching figure. Itwas coming on at a great pace, and in the twilight could be seen loomingtaller and taller as it crossed the road and turned in across the lawn, making a short cut according to Barnes's own fashion, so that the comingfootsteps were noiseless, even to the moment when the figure reached theporch itself. 

"Now for it, " thought Anthony, feeling as if the curtain were about toascend on the fourth act of a play, when the third had ended amidst allpossible excitement. 

"I found the roses blooming just as they used to do, at the side of thehouse"--Rachel's warm, contralto voice was answering a question fromJuliet--"only so untended. I think I shall have to come out again before Ibegin my work, to look after them. "

Anthony did not turn as the step he had been watching for sounded upon theporch. To save his life he could not help keeping his eyes upon Rachel'sface. Rachel herself looked up with the air of the visitor who does notknow the guests of the house, and the expression Anthony saw upon her faceshowed only the slightest possible surprise--certainly no other feeling. 

Juliet rose. "Ah, Mr. Lockwood, " she said, with a cordiality, sincerelittle person though she was, Anthony knew for once she did not feel. "Inthe dusk I couldn't be quite sure. "

Lockwood's eyes instantly turned to Rachel. That he had known in some waywhom he was to see was evident from a most unusual agitation in hismanner. 

"Mrs. --Huntington, " he got out somehow, taking her hand, and staringeagerly down into her face, "I heard you were home, and I hoped to findyou here. I--you are--I am extremely glad----"

 * * * * *

Half an hour later Anthony came upon his wife in the darkness of thedining-room. "Oh, you shouldn't have left them when I was away, " she said. "Little Tony cried out and I had to go. I know Rachel doesn't want to beleft with him to-night. "

"Angels and chaperons defend us, " muttered Anthony. "I can't stand itforever to feel a man wanting to kill me for staying by him through ameeting like this, after three years. I didn't know but Lockwood wouldattempt to throw me off my own porch. Give him a chance--he hasn't any, anyhow. "

"It's after nine, " whispered Juliet. 

"I know it. Roger's taking a terrible risk. "

"He doesn't know she's here. But I thought he cared enough for us to----"

"That's what I've been so sure of. He's probably been detained by somecase. He's getting so distinguished, the minute he sets foot in town nowthe folks with things the matter with them begin to block his path. I hopeshe knows what she throws over her shoulder if she refuses him now. "

"I don't see that she's going to have a chance to refuse him, " mournedJuliet. "Do you think he'd ever forgive us if we let him get away withoutknowing she was here?"

"Lockwood found it out, somehow. Carey's safe to tell him if he seeshim--and he's pretty sure to, at Roger's club. "

"You couldn't telephone?"

"Where? If he can he'll come here, if only to get news of her. She's neverlet him write to her, has she?"

"He told me she hadn't when he was here last fall. And she didn't knowwhere he was. "

"Fellow-conspirator, " whispered Anthony, "we'll give fate her chanceto-night. If she bungles the game we'll take it into our own handsto-morrow. But I've a feeling I'd like to let it happen by itself, if itwill. "

When Lockwood had gone--which was not until eleven o'clock, in spite ofthe way his hosts remained in his vicinity--Rachel stood still upon theporch smiling a little wearily at Juliet. 

"My staying all night has been settled for me, " she said. "There was noway to go. "

"Luckily for us, " Juliet answered. "Sit here a little longer, dear. It'ssuch a perfect night, and I know we shall see little enough of you whenyou get at work. "

Rachel dropped into the hammock. "I should like to lie here all night, "she said, "and watch the stars until I go to sleep. I've done that somany, many nights from under a tent flap. "

All at once she looked up, her eyes widening. Upon the porch step stood astrong figure--as unlike Lockwood's gracefully slender one as possible. Aman's eyes were gazing steadily down into hers--determined gray eyes, witha light in them. The two faces were plainly visible to each other in theradiance from the open door. 

XXVIII. --A HIGH-HANDED AFFAIR

If she had not been standing in the doorway Juliet would have run away, but she had to welcome Dr. Roger Barnes, a traveler whom she had not seenfor almost a year. Her presence, however, after one glad greeting, seemednot to bother him much. He turned from her to Rachel, who had risen, andtook her outstretched hand in both his. 

"It's been rather a long evening, " he said, "wandering around and aroundthis place, waiting for the other man to go. I explored the orchard andthe willow path, and every familiar haunt. I had to refresh myselfoccasionally by stealing up for a glimpse of your face between the vines. But, somehow, that only made it harder to wait. I had to march myself offagain with my fists gripped tight in my pockets to keep them off thatfellow, eating you up with his eyes--confound him--you, who belong only tome. "

He did not smile as he said the last words, but stood looking eagerly ather with a gaze that never faltered. She tried to draw her hands away; itwas useless. Juliet slipped off, knowing that neither of them would seeher go. 

"Come down on the lawn with me, " he said, but she resisted. 

"Please stay here, Doctor Barnes, " she said, "and please let me have myhand. I can't talk so. "

"You needn't talk--for a while, " he answered. He sat down facing her. "Atsix o'clock I found out you were here. At eight--as soon as I could getaway--I came out. I told you how I spent the evening. If I had neededanything to sharpen my longing for you that would have done it--but Ithink I had reached about the limit of what I could bear in that linealready. It has been one constant augmenting thirst for a draught that wasout of my reach. I shouldn't have kept my promise not to write you anotherday after I had been here this time and heard--what I have heard, Rachel. "

She did not answer. Her face was turned away; she was very still. Only aslightly quickened breathing, of which he was barely conscious, betrayedto him that this was not listening of an ordinary sort. 

"I shouldn't have said anything could make any difference with my feeling, to strengthen it, " he went on very quietly, after a while, "but I find ithas. I don't try to explain it to myself, except by the one thing I amsure of--that Alexander Huntington was the noblest and most heroic of men, and deserved to the full those last few hours of knowledge that you hadtaken his name. And I can understand your loyalty to him in wishing towear it these three years. But, Rachel, I can't let you wear it anylonger. "

She turned her face a shade farther away. 

"I am leaving to-morrow night for another year's absence. " He spoke assimply as if he were discussing the most ordinary of subjects. "So I cansee but one thing to do, and that is----"

He got up and came around behind her, standing in the shadow of the vines, where the light did not touch him--"and that is, to take you with me. "

He had not said it doubtfully, although his inflection was very gentle. She moved quickly, startled. 

"Doctor Barnes----"

"Yes, I'm ready for them. You can't raise an objection that I'm not readyfor, not one that I can't meet--except one. And that you can't raise, Rachel. "

She was silent, the words upon her lips held in check by this last bolddeclaration. 

"You see you can't, being truthful, " he said, smiling a little. "If I seemtoo confident, forgive me; but I've carried with me all these years thatone look, when you forgot to veil your eyes away from me as you alwayshad--and always have since then. When I get that look from you again----"He paused, drawing a long breath. "I don't dare dream of it. Rachel, willyou go?"

She tried to glance at him, and managed it, but no higher than hisshoulders. 

"I am engaged to take the training for nurses at the LarchmontMemorial----" she began. 

But he interrupted her joyfully. "You don't say, 'I don't love you'--it'sonly, 'I was intending to be a nurse. ' I told you you couldn't say it, because it isn't true. You do love me, Rachel. Tell me so. "

Her hurried breathing was plainly perceptible now. She rose quickly, as ifshe could not bear the telltale lamplight upon her face any longer, andwent hurriedly across the porch and down upon the lawn, into thestarlight. He followed her, his pulses bounding. 

"Oh, give up to me, " he said in her ear, his own breath coming fast. "You've been fighting it four years now--it's no use. We were made foreach other, and we've known it from the first. You stood heroically byyour first promise--you gave him all you could; but that's all over. Youdon't have to be true to anything or anybody now but me. Give up, dear, and let me know what it feels like to have you pull a man toward youinstead of pushing him away. "

They had reached the edge of the orchard--in deep shadow; and shestopped. 

"I don't know what I came down here for, " she said, in confusion. 

"I do; you were running away. It's your instinct to run away--I love youfor it--it's what first made me want to follow. But I can't stand yourrunning away much longer. Look, Rachel, can you see? I'm holding out myarms. Rachel--I can't wait----"

For an instant longer she held out, while he stood silent, holding himselfthat he might have the long-dreamed-of joy of receiving her surrender. Then, all at once, he realised that it had been worth all his days ofpatient and impatient waiting, for turning to him at last she gaveherself, with the abandon such natures are capable of showing when theyyield after long resistance, into the arms which closed hungrily aroundher. 

 * * * * *

If anybody could have told what happened during the next twenty-four hoursit would have been Juliet, for it was she who took the helm of affairs. She lay awake half the night, or what there was left of it after thedoctor had come back with Rachel and told his friends what had happenedand what was yet to happen, planning to make the hasty wedding as ideal asmight be. She was a wonderful planner, and a most energetic andenthusiastic young matron as well, so by five in the afternoon she hadaccomplished all that had seemed to her good. Rachel's part was only tosee that her trunk was packed, her explanations offered and good-byessaid, and her choice made of several exquisite white gowns which Juliethad had sent out from town. 

"But I can't be married in white, Mrs. Robeson, " she had said protestinglywhen Juliet had opened the boxes. 

"Yes, you can--and must. This is your only bridal, dear. The other--youknow that was only what the doctor said of it once--'your hand in his tothe last'--the hand of a friend. But this--isn't this different?"

Rachel had turned away her face. "Yes, this is different, " she had owned. "But----"

"He asked me to beg you for him to have it so, " Juliet urged, and Rachelwas silent. So the simplest of the white frocks it was, and in it Rachellooked as Juliet had meant she should. 

Only Judith and Wayne Carey were asked down to see them married. To humourthe doctor the ceremony was performed in the orchard, near the entrance tothe willow path. The time afterward was short, and before she knew itJuliet was bidding the two good-bye. 

"I've got her, " said the doctor, looking from Juliet to Rachel, who stoodat his side. "She's mine--all mine. I have to keep saying it over and overto make sure. "

"For your comfort, " answered Juliet, smiling at them both, "I'll tell youthat she looks as if she were yours. "

"Does she?" he cried, laughing happily. "How does she look?" He turned andsurveyed her. "She looks very proud and sweet and still--she's always beenthose things--and very beautiful--more beautiful than ever before. But doyou think she really looks as if she were mine? Tell me how. "

Juliet turned from him, big and eager like a boy, to his bride, "proud andsweet and still, " as he had said. "I've never seen Rachel look absolutelyhappy before, " she told him. "There's always been a bit of a shadow. Butnow--look down into her eyes, Roger; there's no shadow there now. "

But when he would have looked Rachel's lashes fell. "Not yet? By-and-bythen, Rachel, " he whispered. Then he turned to Juliet--and Anthony, whohad come up to stand beside her. 

"If it hadn't been for you and your home-making this day would never havecome for me, " he said. "You have been good friends and true, to us both. Let us keep you so--and good-bye. "

XXIX. --JULIET PROVES HERSELF STILL INDIFFERENT

On a July evening, a month later, Cathcart and a great roll of architects'paper arrived on the Robeson porch. For an hour Juliet looked andlistened, while Anthony, as he had promised, said not a word to bias herdecision. Cathcart laid before her plans for a new house which were--evenAnthony could but admit to himself beyond praise. From everystandpoint--the artistic, the domestic, the practical, even theeconomical, so far as the modern architect understands the meaning of theword--the plans were ideal. Juliet studied them absorbedly, showingplainly her appreciation of them. 

"It would be a beautiful home, " she said at length. "I can think ofnothing more perfect than such a house. "

Cathcart looked triumphant. Without glancing at Anthony he producedanother set of plans. 

"Just to please myself, Mrs. Robeson, " he announced, "I have spent someinteresting hours in trying to show what could be done with this oldhouse, should any one care to lay out a reasonable sum upon it. Frankly, old houses never repay much expenditure of money, yet there is a certainsatisfaction in working out the details of restoration and improvementwhich makes interesting study. Purely as a matter of that sort I havefancied such extensions as these. "

He laid the plans before her. Juliet looked, bent over them, cried outwith delight, and called upon Anthony to join her. 

"Oh, Mr. Cathcart, " she said eagerly, "before you proved yourself anexceedingly fine architect; but now you show yourself a master. To makethis of the old house--why, it's far the higher art. "

Anthony glanced, laughing, across at Cathcart, whose face had fallen sopronouncedly that Juliet would have seen it if she had been observing. Butshe was too absorbed in the new plans. 

"If we could do this, " she was saying, "it would satisfy my best ideals ofa permanent home. "

"But, my dear Mrs. Robeson, " stammered the man of castles, "consider thelocation--the neighbourhood--the rural character of the surroundings. "

"I do, " she answered, still studying the plans. "I love them all--and theold home most of all. Ever since I knew"--how had she known? theywondered--"that a change of houses was a possible thing for us I have beenhomesick in anticipation of a change I couldn't bear to think of. Yet Iwondered if we ought to go. But if you can make this of the old home----"

She lifted to her husband an enthusiastic face. His eyes met hers in along look in which each read deep into the mind of the other. Then AnthonyRobeson, like a man who hears precisely what he most wants to hear, turnedsmiling to Cathcart. 

"I think you've lost, Steve, " he said. 

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