[Illustration: "'Come, George--you need a good tramp, ' Stuart urged atJeannette's elbow"]

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY

By GRACE S. RICHMOND

Author of

"Red Pepper Burns, " "Mrs. Red Pepper, ""The Twenty-Fourth of June, ""The Second Violin, " Etc. 

With Frontispiece in ColorsBy FRANCES ROGERS

A. L. BURT COMPANYPublishers New York

Published by Arrangements with DOUBLEDAY, PAGE AND COMPANY

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

COPYRIGHT, 1916, BYDOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, INCLUDING THAT OFTRANSLATION INTO FOREIGN LANGUAGES, INCLUDING THE SCANDINAVIAN

COPYRIGHT, 1915, 1916, BY THE CURTIS PUBLISHING COMPANY

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

 I. Heart Burnings 3 II. Something Really Happens 15 III. A Semi-Annual Occurrence 31 IV. A Literary Light 39 V. Shabbiness 50 VI. When Royalty Comes 60 VII. Snowballs 71 VIII. Soapsuds 84 IX. A Reasonable Proposition 96 X. Stuart Objects 105 XI. Borrowed Plumes 119 XII. Early Morning 135 XIII. A Copyist 143 XIV. Out of the Blue 153 XV. "Great Luck!" 164 XVI. A Little Trunk 176 XVII. Reaction 187 XVIII. "Steady On!" 199 XIX. Revelations 212 XX. Five Minutes 228 XXI. Messages 236 XXII. Toasts 248 XXIII. Why Not? 259 XXIV. Magic Gold 270 XXV. Great Music 283 XXVI. Salt Water 295 XXVII. "Cakes and Ices" 310XXVIII. A Tanned Hercules 323 XXIX. Milestones 332 XXX. Questions and Answers 342

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

CHAPTER I

HEART BURNINGS

She did not want to hate the girls; indeed, since she loved them all, itwould go particularly hard with her if she had to hate them; love turnedto hate is such a virulent product! But, certainly, she had never foundit so hard to be patient with them. 

They were all five her college classmates, of only last year's class, and it was dear and kind of them to drive out here into the country tosee her, coming in Phyllis Porter's great family limousine, theprettiest, jolliest little "crowd" imaginable. They had been thoughtfulenough to warn her that they were coming, too, so that she could set theold manse living-room in its pleasantest order, build a cracklingapple-wood fire in the fireplace, and get out her best thin china andsilver with which to serve afternoon tea--she made it chocolate, withvivid recollection of their tastes; and added deliciously substantialthough delicate sandwiches, with plenty of the fruitiest and nuttiestkinds of little cakes. She had donned the one real afternoon frock shepossessed, a clever make-over out of nothing in particular. Altogether, when she greeted her guests, as they ran, fur-clad and silk-stockingedafter the manner of their kind, into her welcoming arms, she had seemedto them absolutely the old Georgiana. 

They had brought her a wonderful box of red roses--and Phyllis hadcaught her kissing one of the great, silky buds as she put it with therest in a bowl. "I don't believe she's seen a hothouse rose since sheleft college, " thought Phyllis, with a stab of pity at her tender heart. But for the first hour of their stay Georgiana had been her gay andbrilliant self, flinging quips and jests broadcast, asking impertinentquestions, making saucy comments, quite as of old. It was only when DotManning, toward the end of the visit, began a sober tale of themisfortunes which had come thronging into the life of one of theirclassmates, that Georgiana's face, sobering into sympathetic gravity, betrayed to her companions a curious change which had come upon it sincethey saw it last. 

Meanwhile, in answer to her questioning, they had told her all aboutthemselves. Phyllis Porter and Celia Winters were having a gloriousseason in society. Theo Crossman was deep in settlement work--"crazyover it" was, of course, the phrase. Dot Manning was going abroad nextweek for a year of travel in all sorts of beguiling, out-of-the-wayplaces. As for Madge Sylvester, who was getting ready to be marriedafter Easter, the first of the class, she sat mostly in a dreamy, smiling silence, looking into the fire while the others talked. 

No, Georgiana did not want to hate the girls, but before their stay wasover she found herself coming dangerously near it--temporarily, atleast. They were dears, of course, but they were so content withthemselves and so pitiful of her. Not, of course, that they meant to lether see this, but it showed in spite of them. They wanted to know whatshe did with herself, whether there were any young people, and any goodtimes going on--Georgiana led them to the window, just at this point, and pointed out to them a vigorous young man striding by in ulster andsoft hat, who looked up and waved as he passed, showing one of thosefine and manly young faces, glowing with health and hopefulness, whichalways challenge interest from girlhood. 

"Oh, have you many like that?" Celia had asked, and when Georgiana hadowned that James Stuart was the only one precisely "like that, " Dot hadinquired if Mr. Stuart belonged to Georgiana, and, being answered in thenegative, shook her head and sighed: "One swallow _may_ make a summer, Jan, but I doubt it!"

Theodora Crossman, the settlement worker, inquired particularly whetherGeorgiana were doing anything worth while, using that pregnant modernphrase which has been decidedly overworked, yet which hardly can bespared from the present-day vocabulary. 

"Worth while!" cried Georgiana, flashing into flame in an instant in theway they knew so well. "Worth while--yes! You haven't seen my father, have you, ever? It's a pity this happens to be one of his bad, spine-achey days, for he'd be a good and sufficient answer to thatquestion. Father Davy is one of the Lord's own saints on earth, and hepossesses a magnificent sense of humour, which not all saints do, youknow. To love him is a liberal education, and to take care of him isbetter 'worth while' than to have any number of fingers in otherpeople's pies. "

"Of course, dear, " Theo had answered soothingly. "We know there'snothing in the world so well worth while as looking after one's fatherand mother. Your mother died long ago, didn't she, dear? And your fatherwould be dreadfully lonely without you. At the same time, it doesn'tseem as if he could absorb all your energies. You remember the splendidthings Professor Nichols used to say about the duty of the college girl, after college, particularly in a small town? I suppose you have noforeigners here, but I thought perhaps you might find quite a wonderfulfield for your endeavour in stimulating the women of the place intoclubs for study and work. It's----"

A curious exclamation from her hostess caused Miss Crossman to pause. In fact, they all stared wonderingly at Georgiana. She stood upon thehearthrug, her colour, usually ready to glow in her dusky face, nowreceding suggestively, her dark eyes sparkling dangerously. "The onlytrouble with that sort of thing, " she answered with suspiciousquietness, "or rather the two troubles with it are these: In the firstplace, the women have pretty nearly a club apiece already, which suitsthem much better than anything I could 'stimulate' them to; and, in thesecond place, I have 'quite a wonderful field for my endeavour, ' as youcall it, Theo--did you crib that phrase?--in the upper regions of my ownhome. I--in fact, I may be said to belong to the I. W. W. ; I'm one ofthe industrial workers of the world!"

"Jan, you haven't gone into anything crazy----" Dot was beginning, whenGeorgiana, obeying an impulse, walked away from her hearthrug toward thedoor, beckoning her guests to follow. 

"Come on, " she invited. "Since you have so poor an opinion of thepossibilities for serious labour in a world of woe offered by myresidence in a small country village, you may come and see foryourselves. "

They came after her, with a rustle and flutter of frocks and a patter ofsmartly shod feet, up the old spindle-railed staircase, through a chillyand unfurnished upper hall, and up a still chillier narrow secondstaircase, into an attic region which could hardly be properlycharacterized as chilly, for the reason that the atmosphere there wasfrankly freezing. 

As near as possible to the gable window stood a monster structure thenature of which the beholders did not instantly recognize. Phyllis wasthe first to cry out: "A loom! It must be a very old one, too. Oh, howfascinating! What do you make, Jan--fabrics?"

"Rugs, " explained Georgiana, pulling at a pile upon the floor. "Suchrugs as these. Good looking? Yes, dear classmates?"

"Stunning!" cried Madge Sylvester, with a smothered shiver at thepenetrating cold of the place. 

"Simply wonderful!" "Too clever for anything!" and, "Oh, Jan, do youmake them to sell?" "Can I buy this one?" "I'm wild over this dull blueand Indian red!" came tumbling from the mouths of the eager girls, as inthe fading light from the attic window they examined the hand-wovenrugs. There was sincerity in their voices; Georgiana had known therewould be; she was sure of the art and skill plainly to be found in herproduct. 

"I'm afraid not, Phyl. These are all orders, and I'm weeks behind. Theygo to certain exclusive city shops, and I have all I can do. "

"You must have struck a gold mine. I'm so glad!" congratulatedwarm-hearted Phyllis. 

"Well, not exactly. It's rather slow work, when you do housework, too, "acknowledged Georgiana. "However, it does very well; it keeps us infirewood--and oysters--for the winter. "

She instantly regretted this speech, for it led, presently, as she mighthave known it would, to delicately worded expressions of hope that shewould in the future give her friends the pleasure of purchasing herwares. 

Down by the fireplace again Georgiana turned upon them in her oldjesting way, which yet had in it, as they all felt, a quality which wasnew. "Stop it, girls. No, I'll not sell one of you a rug of any size, shape, or colour. I'm far behind, as I told you. But--I'll send Madge agorgeous one for a wedding present, if she'll tell me her preferences, and I'll do the same for each of you, when you meet your fates. Now stoptalking about it. I only showed you to demonstrate that this is a busyworld for me as well as for you, and that I'm very content in it. Dot, don't you want just one more of these fruitkins? By the way, since youlike them so much, I'll give you the recipe. I made it up--wasn't itclever of me?"

"You're much the cleverest of us all, anyway, " murmured Dot meekly, nibbling at the delicious morsel, while her hostess rapidly wrote out alittle formula and gave it to her with a smile. 

They were soon off after that, for the early winter twilight was uponthem, and the lights in the waiting car outside suddenly came on with asuggestive completeness. Georgiana assisted her guests into luxuriouscoats and capes made of or lined with chinchilla, with otter, withsable; handed gloves and muffs; and listened to all manner ofaffectionate parting speeches, every one of which contained pressinginvitations for visits, short or long. Each girl made promises of futurecalls, and professed herself eager to come and stay with Georgiana atany time. Then the whole group went away on a little warm breeze ofgood-fellowship and human kindness. 

"They are dears, " admitted Georgiana, as she waved her arm at thedeparting car; "but, oh!--_oh!_ I can't stand having them sorry for me!The old manse _is_ shabby, and every girl of them knew how many timesthis frock has been made over--I saw Celia recognize it even through itsdye. No wonder, when it's been at every college tea she ever gave. But Iwon't--_I won't_--be pitied!"

The door opened, and a slender figure in an old-fashioned dressing-gowncame slowly into the firelit room. 

Georgiana turned quickly. "Father Davy! Do you feel better? If I'd knownit, I'd have brought you in to meet the girls. They would have enjoyedyou so. "

"I'm not quite up to meeting the girls perhaps, daughter, but decidedlybetter and correspondingly cheerful. Have you had a good time?"

He placed himself as carefully as possible upon the couch by the fire, and his daughter tucked him up in an old plaid shawl which had lainfolded upon it. She dropped upon the hearthrug and sat looking into thefire, while her father regarded the picture she made in the dyed frock, now a soft Indian red, a hue which pleased his eye and brought out allher gypsy colouring. 

The head upon the couch pillow was topped with a soft mass of curly grayhair, the face below was thin and pale, but the eyes which rested uponthe girl were the clearest, youngest blue-gray eyes that ever spokemutely of the spirit's triumph over the body. One had but to glance atDavid Warne to understand that here was a man who was no less a manbecause he had to spend many hours of every day upon his tortured back. It was three years since he had been forced to lay aside the care of thevillage-and-country parish of which he had been minister, but he hadgiven up not a whit of his interest in his fellowmen, and now that hecould seldom go to them he had taught them to come to him, so that theold manse was almost as much a centre of the village's interest andaffection as it had been when its master went freely in and out. A newmanse had been built nearer the church, for the new man, and the oldhouse left to Mr. Warne's undisputed possession--proof positive of hisplace in the hearts of the community. 

"A good time?" murmured Georgiana, in answer to the question. "No, ahateful, envious, black-browed time, disguised as much as might be undera frivolous manner. The girls were lovely--and I was a perfect fiend!"

Mr. Warne did not seem in the least disconcerted by this startlingstatement. "The sounds I heard did not strike me as indicating thepresence of any fiend, " he suggested. 

"Probably not. I managed to avoid giving in to the temptation to snatchPhyl's sumptuous chinchilla coat, Madge's perfectly adorable hat, Theo'sbronze shoes, Dot's embroidered silk handbag, and Bess's hand-wroughtcollar and cuffs. "

"It was a matter of clothes, then? How much heart-burning men escape!"mused Mr. Warne. "Now, I can never recall hearing any man, young or old, express a longing to denude other men of their apparel. "

Georgiana shot him a look. "No, men merely envy other men their acres, their horses, their motors--and their books. Own up, now, Father Davy, have you never coveted any man's library?"

The blue-gray eyes sent her back a humorous glance. "Now you have me, "he owned. "But tell me, daughter--it was not only their clothes whichstirred the fiend within you? Confess!"

She looked round at him. "I don't need to, " she said. "You know thewhole of it--what I want for you and me--what they have--_life_! Andlots of it. You need it just as badly as I do--you, a suffering saint atfifty-five when other men are playing golf! And I--simply bursting withlonging to take you and go somewhere--anywhere with you--and seethings--and do things--and _live_ things! And we as poor as poverty, after all you've done for the Lord. Oh, I----"

She brought her strong young fist down on the nearly threadbare rug witha thump that reddened the fine flesh, and thumped again and yet again, while her father lay and silently watched her, with a look in his eyesless of pain than of utter comprehension. He said not a word, while shebit her lip and stared again into the fire, clenching the fist that hadspoken for her bitterly aching heart. After a time the tense fingersrelaxed, and she held up the hand and looked at it. 

"I'm a brute!" she said presently. "An abominable little brute. How doyou stand me? How do you _endure_ me, Father Davy! I just bind the loadon your poor back and pull the knots tight, every time I let myselfbreak out like this. If you were any minister-father but yourself, you'deither preach or pray at me. How can you keep from it?"

He smiled. "I never liked to be preached or prayed at myself, dear, " hesaid. "I have not forgotten. And the Lord Himself doesn't expect a youngcaged lioness to act like a caged canary. He doesn't want it to. Andsome day--He will let it out of the cage!"

She shook her head, and got up. She kissed the gray curls and patted thethin cheek, said cheerfully: "I'm going to get your supper now, " andwent away out of the room. 

In the square old kitchen she flung open an outer door and stood staringup at the starry winter sky. 

"Oh, if anything, anything, _anything_ would happen!" she breathed, stretching out both arms toward the snowy shrubbery-broken expansebehind the house which in summer was her garden. "If something wouldjust keep this evening from being like all the other evenings! I can'tsit and read aloud--_to-night_. I can't--I _can't_! And the onlyinteresting thing on earth that can happen is that Jimps Stuart may comeover--and he probably won't, because he was over last evening and theevening before that, and he knows he can't be allowed to come all thetime. He----"

It was at this point that the old brass knocker on the front doorsounded--and something happened. 

CHAPTER II

SOMETHING REALLY HAPPENS

It might have been any of the village people, as Georgiana expected itwould be when she closed the kitchen door with a bang and wentreluctantly to answer the knock. Since it was almost suppertime it wasprobably Mrs. Shear, who seldom made a call at any other hour, knowingshe would as surely be asked to stay as it was sure that David Warne'sheart would respond to the wanness and unhappiness always written onMrs. Shear's homely middle-aged face. As she went to the door, Georgianafelt an intensely wicked desire to hit Mrs. Shear a blow with her owncapable fist, which should send her backward into the snow. Georgianadid not believe that the lady was as unhappy as she looked. It seemed tobe a day for expression by the use of fists!

But when the door was opened and the light from the bracket lamp in themanse hall shone out on the figure standing upon the porch, all desireto hit anything more with her fist vanished from the girl's heart. Forwith the first look into the face of the man outside her instant wishwas to have him come in--and stay. Somebody so evidently from the greatworld which seemed so far away from the old village manse--somebody wholooked as if he could bring with him into this dull life of theirs allmanner of interest--it was small wonder that in her present mood thegirl should feel like this. And it must by no means be supposed thatGeorgiana was in the habit of experiencing this sort of wish every timeshe set eyes upon a personable man. Personable men had been many in heracquaintance during the four years of her college life, and more thanone of them had followed her back to the old manse to urge his claimupon her attention. 

"Is the Reverend Mr. Warne at home?" asked the stranger in a low andpleasant voice. "I have a letter of introduction to him. "

"Please come in, " answered Georgiana, and led him straight into theliving-room and her father's presence. Then, though consumed withcuriosity, she retired--as far as the door of the dining-room, where sheremained, ready to listen in a most reprehensible manner to theconversation which should follow. 

There was an exchange of greetings, then evidently Mr. Warne was readingthe letter of introduction. Presently he spoke:

"This is quite sufficient, " he said, "to make you welcome under thisroof. My old friend Davidson has my affection and confidence always. Please tell me what I can do for you, Mr. Jefferson. "

"I should like, " replied the stranger's voice, "to have a room with you, and possibly board, if that might be. If not, perhaps I could find thatelsewhere; but if I might at least have the room I should be very glad. I am hard at work upon a book, and I have come away from my home andother work to find a place where I can live quietly, write steadily, andbe outdoors every day for long walks in the country. Doctor Davidsonsuggested this place, and thought you might take me in--for anindefinite period of time, possibly some months. "

"That sounds very pleasant to me, " Georgiana heard her father reply. "Wehave never had a boarder, my daughter and I, but, if she has noobjection, I should enjoy having such a man as you look to be, in thehouse. Your letter, you see, is not your only introduction. You carrywith you in your face a passport to other men's favour. "

"That is good of you, " answered Mr. Jefferson--and Georgiana liked thefrank tone of his voice. It was an educated voice, it spoke for itselfof the personality behind it. 

"I will go and talk with my daughter, " she heard her father say, afterthe two men had had some little conversation concerning a book or twolying on the table by Mr. Warne's couch. 

Georgiana fled into the kitchen, where her father found her. When heappeared, closing the door behind him, she was ready for him before hespoke. 

"If he were the angel Gabriel or old Pluto himself I'd welcome him, " shesaid under her breath, her eyes dancing. "To have somebody in the housefor you to talk with besides your everlasting old parishioners--why, itwould be worth a world of trouble! And it won't be any trouble at all. Go tell him your daughter reluctantly consents. "

"You heard, then?" queried Mr. Warne, a quizzical smile on his gentlelips. 

"Of course I heard! I was listening hard! I was all ears--regular donkeyears. He's a godsend. His board will pay for sirloin instead of round. We'll have roast duck on Sunday--twice a winter. He can have the bigfront room; I'll have it ready by to-morrow night. "

"Come in and arrange details, " urged Mr. Warne. 

Georgiana stayed behind a minute to compose her face and manner, thenwent in, the demurest of young housewives. Not for nothing had been heryears of college life, which had made, when occasion demanded, a quietlypoised woman out of a girl who had been, according to village standards, a somewhat hoydenish young person. 

As she faced the stranger in the full light of the fire-and-lamp-litroom, she saw in detail that of which she had had a swift earlierimpression. Mr. Jefferson was a man in, she thought, the early thirties, with a strongly modelled, shaven face, keen brown eyes behindeyeglasses, a mouth which could be grave one moment and humorous thenext, and the air of a man who was accustomed to think for himself andexpect others to do so. He was well built though not tall, well dressedthough not dapper, and he looked less like a writer of books than aparticipant in action of some kind or other. His dark hair showed athread or two of gray at the temples, but this suggestion of age did notseem at all to age him. 

The stranger, on his part, saw a rather more than commonly charmingGeorgiana, on account of the Indian-red silk frock. 

"It's not fair to him, " thought Georgiana, "to show him a landlady wholooks so festive and fine. I can't afford to wear this often, even forhis benefit. " But to him she said: "I know it will give my father muchpleasure to have some one in the house besides his daughter. And I amquite willing to have you at our table. I must warn you that we livevery simply, as you must guess. "

"I live very simply myself, " Mr. Jefferson assured her. "There are fewthings I do not like. My one serious antipathy is Brussels sprouts, " headded, smiling. "With that confession the coast is clear. And--youwould not mind my smoking in my room?"

Georgiana glanced at her father with a suddenly mischievous expression. He was studying the prospective boarder with interested eyes. 

"I think, " confessed Mr. Warne, "that merely to catch a whiff now andthen of a fragrance which is singularly pleasant to me, but which I amdenied producing for myself, would add to the things that give mecomfort. If you wouldn't mind smoking in the hall now and then, or, better yet, by my fireside, I should be grateful. "

Mr. Jefferson nodded. "Thank you, sir. And now--when may I come? I havea room at the hotel, so don't let me in until you are quite ready. "

"You may come to-morrow night for supper, " promised Georgiana. "But youhaven't seen the room. " She rose. 

"It will be in the upper right front?" hazarded Mr. Jefferson. "And itwill have the customary furnishings and some means of heating?"

"I should prefer to have you see it, " she insisted, and lighted a candlein an ancient pewter candlestick with an extinguisher at the side. 

So the stranger, following her upstairs, surveyed his room and professedhimself entirely satisfied. It looked bare enough to Georgiana as sheshowed it to him, but she told herself that there were possibilities inthe matter of certain belongings of her own room which could betransferred to give an air of homelikeness to this. 

"It is large, and I can have plenty of light and air, " commented theprospective boarder. "If I might have some sort of good-sized table bythat south window, for my work, I should consider myself provided for. "

"You will find one when you come, " promised the girl. 

"Thank you. Now, I will take myself off at once. Then you may have achance to discuss with your father the probabilities in favour of yournot regretting your quick decision, " he said as he descended the stairs. 

"Father and I always make quick decisions, " Georgiana remarked. 

"Good! So do I. Do you hold to them as well?"

"Always. That's part of father's creed. "

"That's very good; that speaks for itself. Well, I promise you I shallbe busy enough not to bother this household overmuch. By the way"--heturned suddenly--"that table you spoke of putting in my room--if it islarge, it must be heavy. Your father cannot help you lift it, and youshould not lift it alone. Don't put it in place until I come--please?"

She smiled. "That's very thoughtful of you. But I am quite equal tomoving it alone. "

"Then let me help you now, won't you?" he offered. 

She shook her head. "It's really not ready to be moved. Don't think ofit again, please. "

He bade them good-night and went away, with no lingering speeches on theroad to the door. He had the air of a man accustomed to measure his timeand to waste none of it. When he had gone Georgiana went back to herfather. He looked up at her with a twinkle in his still boyish eyes. 

"Well, daughter, it looks to me as if this had happened just in time toprevent a bad explosion from too high pressure of accumulated energy. You can now lower the position of the indicator on the steam gauge tothe safety point by spending the whole day to-morrow in sweeping anddusting and baking. If there are any spare moments you can employ themin making over your clothes. "

"Father Davy! Where did you get such a perfectly uncanny understanding?"

"From observation--purely from observation. And I myself confess tofeeling considerably excited and elated. It is not every day that agentleman of this sort knocks at the door of a village manse and asks tocome in and write a book. If it had not been that my old friend Davidsonis always bringing people together who need each other, I should thinkit the strangest thing in the world that this should happen. Davidsonis the minister of a great New York church where this Mr. Jeffersonattends; and Davidson has never forgotten me, though he took the highroad and I the low so soon after he left the seminary. Well, it willgive us a fresh interest, my dear, for as long as it lasts. "

Georgiana thought it would. She was up betimes next morning, to beginthe sweeping and dusting and general turning upside down of thelong-unused upper front room. In the course of her window washing, hershoulders enveloped in an old red shawl, she was vigorously hailed frombelow. 

"Ship ahoy! Your name, cargo, and destination?"

Without turning she called merrily back: "The Jefferson, with a cargo ofbooks, bound for the public!"

"What's that? I don't get you. "

"Never mind. I'm too busy to be spoken by every passing ship. "

"I'll be up, " called the voice, and footsteps sounded upon the porch. The front door banged, the same ringing male voice was heard shouting a"Good-morning, sir!" and the owner of the voice came leaping up thestairs and burst into the room without ceremony. He advanced till he wasclose to the open window, and nodded through the glass at thewindow-washer, who sat on the sill with her upper body outside. 

He was a fine specimen of youth and brawn and energy, the young man whomGeorgiana had pointed out to her friends as one of her resources when itcame to the good times they were so anxious to know of. His name wasJames Stuart, and he was a near neighbour of the manse. He was a collegegraduate of three years' longer standing than Georgiana, and he, likeher, had returned to the country home and his father's farm because hisaging parents could not spare him, and he was the only son whose lack ofother ties left him free to care for them. He and this girl had beenschoolmates and long-time friends--with interesting intervals of enmityduring the earlier years--and were now sworn comrades, though they stillquarrelled at times. It looked, after a minute, as if this would be oneof those times. 

"I didn't just get you, " complained James Stuart through the window. 

"Wait till I come in. I can't tell all the neighbours. "

Georgiana polished off her last pane, pushed up the window and slippedinto the room, quite unnecessarily assisted by Stuart. 

"I can't understand, " began the young man, eying with approval herblooming face, frost-stung and smooth in texture as the petals of arose, "why you're washing the windows of a room that's always shut up. "

"Jimps, if you were Mrs. Perkins next door I'd understand your consumingcuriosity. As it is----"

"Going to have company?"

She shook her head. 

"Then--what in thunder----"

"We're going to have a boarder, if you must know. " Georgiana began toattack the inside of the window. 

"A boarder! What sort?"

"A very good sort. He's a literary person with a book to write. "

"Suffering cats! Not the man at the hotel?"

"I believe he was to exist at the hotel--if he could--for twenty-fourhours, " admitted Georgiana. 

"But that man, " objected Mr. James Stuart, "is a--why, he's--he doesn'tlook like that sort at all. "

"What sort, if you please?"

"The literary. He looks like a--well, I took him for a professional manof some kind. "

Georgiana laughed derisively. "Jimps! Isn't authorship a profession?"

"Well, I mean, you know, he doesn't look like an ink-slinger; he lookslike some sort of a doer. He hasn't that dreamy expression. He sees withboth eyes at once. In other words, he seems to be all there. "

"Your idea of literary men is a disgrace to your education, Jimps. Thinkof the author-soldiers and author-engineers--and author-Presidents ofthe United States, " she ended triumphantly. 

"It doesn't matter, " admitted Stuart. "The thing that does is that he'scoming here. I can't say that appeals to me. How in time did he come toapply?" Georgiana told him briefly. Stuart looked gloomy. "That's allright, " he said, "as long as he confines himself to being company foryour father. But if he takes to being company for you--lookout!"

"Absurd! He's years older than I, and he said he would be working veryhard. I shall see nothing of him except at the table. Heavens! don'tgrudge us anything that promises to relieve the monotony of our liveseven a little bit. "

Stuart whistled. "Monotony, eh? In spite of all my visits? All right. But I'd be just as well pleased if he wore skirts. And mind you--yourUncle Jimps is coming over evenings just as often as and a littleoftener than if you didn't have this literary light burning on yourhearthstone. See?"

He went away, his thick fair hair, uncapped, shining in the morningsunlight, his arm waving a friendly farewell back at the window, where awhite cloth flapped in reply. 

"Dear old boy!" thought the young woman affectionately; "what should Ido without him?"

That afternoon, just before the supper hour, the boarder's trunkarrived. It was borne upstairs by the village baggageman, complainingbitterly of its weight. It was an aristocratic-looking trunk, and itbore labels which indicated that it was a traveled trunk. Shortlyafterward the boarder himself appeared and was allowed to betake himselfat once to his room, from which he emerged at the call of the bell, andcame promptly down. Meeting Mr. Warne limping slowly through the hall, he offered his arm, and in the dining-room placed his host in his chairwith the gentle deference so welcome from a younger man to an older. 

Georgiana, as she served one of the undeniably simple but toothsomemeals for the cooking of which she was equipped by many years'apprenticeship, noted how bright grew Father Davy's face as the supperprogressed, and how delightfully the newcomer talked--and listened--forif he was an interesting talker he proved to be a still moreaccomplished listener. When the supper was over Mr. Jefferson lingered afew minutes by the fire, then went up to his room, explaining that hemust unpack his books and make ready for an early attack in the morningupon his work. 

In her own room, that night, Georgiana lay awake for a long time. Justbefore she went to sleep she addressed herself sternly:

"My child, I shouldn't wonder if you've jumped out of the frying pan ofmonotony into the fire of unrest. It certainly means trouble for youwhen you can't get a perfect stranger's face out of your mind for anhour. Now, there's just one thing about it: you've always despised girlswho let themselves leap into liking any man and are so upset by it thateverybody sees it. This one is undoubtedly either married or engaged tobe, and even if he's the freest old bachelor alive you are to behave asif he were the tightest tied. You are to go straight ahead with yourwork and to remember every minute that you are a poor minister'sdaughter with only a college training for an asset. He's very clearly aman of importance somewhere; he couldn't look like that and be anythingelse. He will never think twice of you. Whatever attention he gives youwill be purely because he is a gentleman and he can't ignore his host'sdaughter--nonsense, his landlady--I might as well face it. He's aboarder and I'm his landlady. Gentlemen don't take much interest inlandladies. So now, Georgiana Warne, landlady--keeper of aboarding-house, be sensible and go to sleep. "

But before she went to sleep her mind, in spite of her, had imaged forher again the interesting, clever-looking face of the stranger under theroof, with his clear, straightforward glance that seemed to see so much, his smile which disclosed splendid teeth, his strongly moulded chin. Andshe had owned, frankly, driven to the confession just to see if itwouldn't relieve her:

"It's just such a face as I've seen and liked--in crowds sometimes--butI never knew the owner of one. It's such a face as a woman wouldremember to her grave, if its owner had just belonged to her one--hour!Oh, dear God, I've prayed you to let something happen--anything! And nowI'm--afraid!"

But, in the morning, when pulses beat strongly and courage is bright, Georgiana had another tone to take with herself. She faced her image inthe glass, which looked straight back at her with unflinching dark eyes. 

"I'm ashamed of you! To moon and croon like that! Now, brace up, MissWarne, and be yourself. You've never lacked spirit; you're not going tolack it now. You're going to be strong and sane about this thing. You'regoing to be the sort of girl whose mind no man can guess at. You'regoing to weave rugs for your life, and enjoy Jimps Stuart as you alwayshave, and there's not going to be a whimper out of you from this hour, no matter what happens--or doesn't happen. Do you hear? Well, then--attention! Head up, shoulders back, heart steady; forward, _march_!"

Two hours later, when, in the absence of the new inmate, Georgiana wentinto his room to put it in order for the day, she found it impossiblenot to note the character of his belongings. They were few and simpleenough, but in every detail they betrayed a fastidious taste. And amongthe articles in ebony and leather which lay upon the linen cover of theold bureau stood one which held her fascinated attention. It was aframed photograph of a young and very lovely woman in evening dress, andthe face which smiled over the perfect shoulder was looking straight outat her. 

Georgiana stared back. "Who are you?" she whispered. "I might have knownyou would be here!"

"And who, please, are you?" the picture seemed to query lightly, smilingin return for the other's frown. "As for me, don't you see plainly? Ibelong to him. Else why should he have me here? You see I'm the only onehe cared to bring. Doesn't that speak for itself?"

"Of course it does, " agreed Georgiana; then stoutly: "And why should Icare? Of course I don't care. To care would be--absurd!"

CHAPTER III

A SEMI-ANNUAL OCCURRENCE

"Father Davy, the 'Semi-Annual' has come!" Georgiana, tugging with bothstrong young arms, hauled the big express package into the living-roomof the old manse, and shut the door with a bang. Breathing rapidly fromher exertions, her cheeks warmly flushed, her dark eyes glowing, shestood over the package, looking at her father with a curious sort ofsmile not wholly compounded of joy and satisfaction. 

"That is very good, " said Father Davy in his pleasant voice; "and veryopportune. It was but yesterday, it seems to me, that I heard daughterdeclaring that she was 'Oh, so shabby!'"

"Yes, yes--but what do you wager there is there?" questioned Georgiana. "I can tell you before I take the cover off. Three evening gowns, frivolous and impossible for a little town like this; one draggledlingerie frock, two evening coats, and possibly--just possibly--a lastyear's tailored suit, with a tear in the front of the skirt and not ascrap of goods to make a fold to cover it. Why, oh, why, do they neverhave any pieces?"

"The reason seems obvious enough, " Mr. Warne suggested, as the girlstooped and began to wrestle with the cords which tied the big package. His glance fell musingly on the down-bent head with its masses ofdark-brown hair, upon the white and shapely arms from which the sleeveswere rolled back, --Georgiana had been busy in the kitchen when theexpressman came, --upon the whole comely young figure in its blue-printmorning dress. "They never have need of the pieces, I should judge, "said he. 

"But I have. Jeannette might think of me when she orders her clothes, not just when her maid is packing the box with a lot of castaways. Well, here's hoping there's just one thing I can use, " and she lifted thecover of the box and looked within, it cannot be denied, with eagercuriosity. 

"There are always many things you can use, " her father gently remindedher; "you, who are so ingenious. "

"Here's the evening frock!" cried his daughter, lifting out the topgarment and holding it up before them both. "Oh, what a dress to send apoor country cousin! Fluff and flimsy, trimmed with sparklers; cutfrightfully low, no sleeves, and a draggly train. Doesn't it looksuitable for me?" She flung it aside with a gesture of scorn. "Ah, here's something a shade better! A little dancing frock ofrose-coloured chiffon--and her clumsy partner stepped on the hem of it. The maid in the dressing-room sewed it up for her to have her last dancein, and then she came home and threw it into the box for me. Well, I canget a gorgeous motor veil out of it--I who have so many drives in thecars of the rich!"

"The--the under part looks available to me, " suggested Mr. Warne, striving to be of comfort. 

Georgiana shrugged her blue-clad shoulders. "Oh, yes, if I could dressin slitted silk petticoats and you could wear them for dressing-gowns, we'd have plenty. Well, look at _this_! Here's a velvet--cerise! What aglorious, impossible colour! And here's the lingerie frock; that's notso bad; I really think it will stand a couple of launderings before itfalls to pieces in my hands. And here's the evening coat--pale gray withfox trimmings--and she's fallen foul of some ink or something, and thecleaner couldn't get it all out. Father Davy, look!"

"It seems to me, " said Mr. Warne in his gentle tones, which were yet notwithout more firmness than one might expect from so frail a person, "that I have heard somewhere a homely proverb to the effect that it isnot quite in good taste to----"

"'_Look a gift horse in the mouth, _'" finished Georgiana. Her eyes wererebellious. "And there's another: '_Beggars mustn't be choosers. _' Yes, I know. Only, semi-annually I certainly do experience a burning wishthat my dear rich relations were persons with a trifle keener sense ofdiscernment as to which of their old clothes would be most appreciatedby their poor cousins. They must now and then, Father Davy, wearsomething sensible. They must have morning clothes and streetclothes--adorable ones. Why do they send only the worldly clothes to themanse? And why--_why_ do they never put in so much as one of UncleThomas's discarded cravats for the Little Minister himself?"

"Your Uncle Thomas and I may possibly have different tastes in thematter of neckwear, " replied Mr. Warne with such gravity of manner butsuch a sparkle of humour in his blue-gray eyes that his daughter laughedin spite of herself. "Come, come, dear, is there nothing you can approveamong all those rich materials? You might make me innumerable cravats, and I am such a fop I could wear a fresh one each day--to please you. "

"Father Davy!" Georgiana sat back on her heels. She had slipped herbared arms into the armholes of the sleeveless white "fluff-and-flimsy"evening frock, and the "sparklers" of the low-cut bodice now framed herblue-print clad shoulders with an astonishing effect of incongruity. "Ihave a wonderful inspiration. Let's ask Jeannette out here for avisit--an object-lesson as to the state of life whereunto the countrycousins have been called. She hasn't seen me in ten years, and all Iremember of her is a fluffy, yellow-haired girl with a sniffly cold inher head. What do you say, Father Davy? Shall we ask her?"

Her father's gaze, quiet, comprehending, more than a little amused, metGeorgiana's, audacious, defiant, mischievous, yet reasonable. The twolooked at each other for a full minute. 

"Do you think she would come?" Mr. Warne inquired doubtfully. 

"Why shouldn't she come? She's had a gay winter so far, but not a happyone. She's no debutante any more, you know; she's an 'old girl' in herfifth season. That's what the society girls get by coming out ateighteen. Now I, who am only a year out of college and who never 'cameout' in my life, am as keen at the game of being grown up as if I werejust putting up my hair for the first time. Well, Jeannette's beenkeeping up the pace all winter, is thoroughly worn out and unhappy, anddoesn't know what to do with herself. It's March--and Lent--the time ofyear when the society folks betake themselves to spring resorts torecover their shattered nerves. Don't you think she'd jump at the chanceto come to the little country town and try what our air and our cookerywould do for her?"

"You seem to know all about her in spite of not having seen or knownher--except through these boxes of clothes--since she was a littlegirl. "

"Ah, that's just it--through her boxes--that's how I know her!"Triumphantly Georgiana held up the cerise velvet gown. "Don't I know agirl who would wear that? Wild for excitement--that's why she chose thecolour. But she didn't get the fun she expected; he didn't like it--orsomebody said she looked too pale in it--and she fired it at me beforeshe had done more than take the freshness off. _I_ can wear it--seehere!"

She got to her feet, untied the little black silk tie which held thelow-rolling collar of her working dress at the throat, unfastened a rowof hooks, and let the blue print slip to her feet. Over the glory of herwhite shoulders and gleaming arms she flung the cerise velvet--gorgeous, glowing, wonderful colour, as trying to the ordinary complexion ascolour can well be. But as the gown fell into place, and Georgiana, backing up to her father, was fastened somewhat tentatively into it, itwould have been plain to any beholder that if the rich girl could notwear the queenly, daring robe the poor girl could--as she had said. 

She swept up and down the room, her head held high. She played the partof a lady of fashion and held an imaginary reception, carrying on astream of "society" talk with a manner which made the pale man on thecouch laugh like a boy. Holding a dialogue with a hypothetical maleguest, she led him out into the hall, still within sight of Mr. Warne'scouch, and was in the midst of a scene as inspiredly clever as anythingshe had ever done at college, where she had been the pride of a dramaticclub whose fame had waxed greater than that of any similar organizationfor many years, when the front door of the house suddenly opened, and agust of chilly March air rushed in with the person entering. 

Georgiana wheeled--to find herself confronting the amused gaze of herboarder, Mr. E. C. Jefferson, as read the address upon his mail. 

Mr. Jefferson was by this time, after a month under the roof of the oldmanse, well established as a member of the household, though after thesomewhat remote fashion to be expected of a man whose absorbing workfilled most of his waking hours. He closed the door quickly as he caughtsight of Georgiana in her masquerade, removed his hat, and bent his headbefore the cerise velvet. 

Georgiana, blushing as vividly as if it were the first time mortal manhad ever beheld her pretty shoulders, threw him a laughing look, murmured: "Dress parade in borrowed finery, Mr. Jefferson; don't let theblaze of colour put your eyes out!" and retreated toward the living-roomwhere her father sat, much amused by the situation. 

She was followed by her boarder's reply: "I find myself still happilyretaining the use of my eyes, Miss Warne. You need not be too much inhaste; it is very dull outside, I assure you. "

He went on up the stairs, but she had caught his smile, momentarilyillumining a face which was ordinarily rather grave. Georgiana closedthe living-room door upon the sight of the lithe figure rapidlyascending the staircase without a glance behind. As she faced her fathershe assumed the expression of a merry child caught in mischief. 

"Our new lodger has certainly come upon me in all sorts of situations, not to mention disguises, " she remarked, "but this is the first time hehas met me in the role of leading lady on the melodramatic stage. Pleaseunhook me, Father Davy; the play is over, and it's time to get thepot-roast simmering. And what do you say to inviting lovely JeannetteCrofton to visit us? Would it be too hard on you?"

"Not at all, my dear. I should be glad to see your Uncle Thomas'sdaughter. Invite her, by all means. You have far too little youngcompanionship; it will do you good to have a girl of your own age in thehouse. "

"I wonder how we shall get on, " mused Georgiana. "Anyhow she'll see whata market this is for evening frocks cut on her lines!"

CHAPTER IV

A LITERARY LIGHT

Many hours afterward, the labours of the day over, Georgiana bent herdark head above an old-fashioned writing-desk in a corner of theliving-room, and dashed off the contemplated letter to her almostunknown cousin. How the invitation would be received she had littleidea, but since a letter of thanks was undeniably due in response to the"Semi-Annual" box, it was certainly a simple and natural matter enoughto offer in return for it a possible pleasure and a certain benefit. 

"I'll run straight down to the post-office and mail it, " declaredGeorgiana, sealing and stamping her letter after having read it aloud toher father. "A run in this March wind will be good for me after bakingand brewing all day. "

"Do, daughter; and take a tumbler or two of jelly to Mrs. Ames, by theway. And pick a spray or two of the scarlet geranium to go with it. " Mr. Warne spoke from the depths of an old armchair by the living-room fire, where, with a lamp at his elbow, he was not too deep in a speech of theelder Pitt on "Quartering Soldiers in Boston, " to take thought for aninvalid whom he considered far less fortunate than himself. 

"I will--poor, disagreeable old lady. She doesn't admit that anythingtastes as it should, but I observe our jelly is never long indisappearing. "

Georgiana, now wearing in honour of the close of day a simple frock ofdark-blue wool with a dash of scarlet at throat and wrists, donned a bigmilitary cape of blue, scarlet lined, and twisted about her neck a scarfof scarlet silk (dyed from a Semi-Annual petticoat!), which served lessas a protection than as the finishing touch to her gay winter's nightcostume. She was likely to meet few people on her way, but there werealways plenty of loungers in the small village post-office, and not evena college graduate could be altogether disdainful of the masculineadmiration sure to be found there, though she might ignore it. 

As she closed the house door, lifting her face to a cold, starlit skyfrom which the clouds of the day had broken away at sundown, anotherdoor a few rods down the quiet street banged loudly, and the sharp creakof rapid footsteps was immediately to be heard upon the frozen gravel. Georgiana smiled in the darkness at the coincidence of that bangingdoor. 

"Well met!" called a ringing voice. "Curious that I should break out ofMrs. Perkins's just as you came along!"

"Very curious, Jimps. How do you manage it? I stole out like a cat justto avoid such a possibility. I knew you were there. "

"Did you, indeed?" inquired the owner of the voice, coming up andstanding still to look at what he could see of the military-caped form. His own strongly built figure took up its position beside hers as if byright. His hand slipped lightly under her arm, and he turned her gentlyto face the direction in which he himself had set out. "That's like yourimpertinence. To pay you for it you shall come this way, " he insisted. "It's only a step farther, it's not quite so hackneyed, and it willbring us out where we want to be. Look at the stars!"

"They're wonderful!"

"Carrying something under that cape? Give it to me, chum. "

"It's only a bit of a basket, Jimps; never mind, you might spill it. "

"You can't carry a bit of a basket when I'm around! Spill nothing! Handit over. "

"Terribly dictatorial to-night, aren't you?"

"Possibly. I've been bossing a lot of new hands to-day, who didn't knowa pick from a gang-plough. "

"But you've been outdoors every minute!" Her tone was envious. 

"Every blessed minute. And you've been in, puttering over a lot of housejobs? See here, you need a run. Let's take the time to go up HarmonHill and run down it--eh? There'll not be a soul to see. "

She laughed doubtfully. "I'd love to, but--the jelly?"

"That's easy. " He dropped her arm, turned aside to a clump of trees atthe corner of an overgrown old place which they were passing, anddeposited the little basket in the shadow. He came back and caught herarm again. 

"Easy, now, up the hill. I wish the snow wasn't all gone, we'd have afarewell coast at the end of the season. But there'll undoubtedly bemore. Honestly, now, George, hasn't the coasting and tramping helped youthrough this first winter?"

"Jimps, I don't know what I should have done without it--or you. "

"Thanks; I think so myself. The first winter back in the little oldtown, after the years away at school and college--well---- Anyhow, Ipride myself the partnership has worked pretty well. We've been about asgood chums as you could ask, haven't we now?"

"About as good. "

"All right. " His tone had a decided ring of satisfaction in it, but hedid not pursue the subject further. Instead he changed it abruptly: "Howdoes the new boarder come on?"

"Very well. We really don't mind having him at all, he's so quiet, andFather enjoys his table talk. "

"Father does, but daughter doesn't?"

"Oh, yes, I do--only he doesn't talk much to me. I sit and listen totheir discussions--and jump up to wait on them so often that I sometimeslose the thread. "

"The duffer! Why doesn't he get up and wait on you?"

Georgiana laughed. "Jimps, we're going to have another guest. "

"Another man?" The question came quickly. 

"Not at all. A girl--my cousin, Jeannette Crofton. At least I'm writingto ask her for the fortnight before Easter. "

"Those rich Crofton relations of yours who hold their heads so high forno particular reason except that it helps them to forget their feet areon the earth?"

"James Stuart, what have I ever said of them to make you speak likethat?"

"Never mind; go on. Is it the girl whose picture gets into the Sundaypapers--entirely against her will, of course--as the daughter of ThomasCrofton? She's reported engaged, from time to time, and then the reportis denied. She's----"

"I shall tell you no more about her, " said Georgiana Warne, with herhead held quite as high as if she belonged to that branch of the familyto whom James Stuart had so irreverently alluded. 

"All right. I'm not interested in her anyhow, and you'll want yourbreath for the run down. Come on, George; one more spurt and we'reup. .. . All ready. Take hold of my hand. Come on!"

In the March starlight the two ran hand in hand down the long, steepHarmon Hill which led from the east into the little town. Stuart's gripwas tight, or more than once Georgiana would have slipped on the roughiciness of the descent. But she did not falter at the rush of it, andshe was not panting, only breathing quickly, when they came to astandstill upon the level. 

"Good lungs, those of yours, George, " commented Stuart, in the frankmanner in which he might have said it to a younger brother. "You haven'tplayed basket ball and rowed in your 'Varsity boat for nothing. Sureyou're not letting up a bit on all that training, now that you're back, baking beans for boarders?"

"And sweeping their rooms, and carrying up wood for their fires, and----"

"What? Do you mean to say that literary light allows you to tote woodfor him?" They were walking on rapidly now. "I'll be over in the morningand take up a pile that'll leave no room for him to put his feet. What'she thinking of?"

"Jimps, boy, how absurd you are! How should he know who puts the wood inhis room? I don't go up with armfuls of it when he's there. "

"If you did, he'd merely open the door for you and say: 'Thank you verymuch, my good girl. ' I don't like this boarder business, I can tell youthat. Do you let him smoke in his room?"

"Why not, you unreasonable mortal? He smokes a beautiful briarwood, andsuch delicious tobacco that I find myself sniffing the air when I gothrough the hall in the evening, hoping I may get a whiff. "

"Does, eh? When I bring up the wood I'll smoke up your hall so you won'thave to sniff the air to know you're enjoying the fragrance of Araby. "

In this light and airy mood the pair went on their way, enjoying eachother's company as might any boy and girl, though each had left theirresponsible years behind and had settled down to the sober work ofmanhood and womanhood. To Georgiana Warne, whose necessary presence athome, instead of out in the great world of activity where she longed tobe, Stuart's society, as he had intimated, had been a strong supportduring this first year and a half since her return. The singularlysimilar circumstances which had shaped the plans of these two youngpeople had been the means of inspiring much comprehending sympathybetween them. An almost lifelong previous acquaintance had put them on afooting of brotherly and sisterly intimacy, now powerfully enhanced bythe sense of need each felt for the other. It was small wonder thattheir fellow-townsmen were accustomed to couple their names as theywould those of a pair long betrothed, and that, as the two came togetherinto the village post-office, where as usual a group of citizens loungedand lingered on one pretext or another, the appearance of "Jim Stuartand Georgie Warne" should cause no comment whatever. To-night more thanone idler noted, as often before, the fashion in which the two wereoutwardly suited to each other. Both were the possessors of the superbhealth which is such a desirable ally to true vigour of mind, and sinceboth were understood to be, in the village usage, "highly educated, "their attraction for each other was considered a natural sequence--as itundoubtedly was. 

The mail procured, the letter posted, and the small basket delivered toa querulously grateful old woman, the young people set out for home. They had somehow fallen into a more serious mood, and, walking moreslowly than before, discussed soberly enough certain problems ofStuart's connected with the commercial side of market gardening. Hespoke precisely as he would have spoken to a man, with the possibledifference that he made his explanations of business conditions a triflefuller than he might have done to any man. But his confidence in hisfriend's ability to grasp the situation was shown by the way in which, ending his statement of the case, he asked her advice. 

"Now, given just this crisis, what would you do, George?" he said. 

She considered in silence for some paces. Then she asked a question ortwo more, put with a clearness which showed that she understoodprecisely the points to be taken into consideration. He answeredconcisely, and she then, after a minute's further communion withherself, suggested what seemed to her a feasible course. 

Stuart demurred, thought it over, argued the thing for a little withher, and came round to her point of view. He threw back his head with arelieved laugh. "I admit it--it's a mighty good suggestion; it may bethe way out. Anyhow, it's well worth trying. George, you're a peach!There isn't one girl in a hundred who would have listened withintelligence enough to make her opinion worth a picayune. "

"I'm not a girl, Jimps. I don't want to be a girl--at twenty-four. Ican't; I haven't time. "

"That's a safe enough statement, " replied James Stuart, looking down atthe dark head beside him under the March starlight, "as long as youcontinue to act enough like a normal girl to run down the hills with meafter dark. Well, here we are, worse luck! I suppose you're not goingto ask me in?" There was a touch of appeal in the lightly spokenquestion. 

"Not to-night, Jimps; I'm sorry. Father Davy overdid to-day, in spite ofall my efforts, and I must see him to bed early and read him to sleep. "

"After he's gone the literary light won't come down and smoke hisspices-of-Araby mixture by your fire, instead of his own, while youentertain him, will he?"

Her low laugh rang out. "You ridiculous person, what a vivid imaginationyou have! Every evening at about this time the literary light goes offfor a long tramp by himself, and often doesn't come back till all ourlights are out, except the one we leave burning for him. He isabsolutely absorbed in his work. We really see nothing at all of himexcept at the table. "

"Just the same, the time will come, " predicted James Stuart. "Some nighthe'll take his regular place at your fireside, as he does at your table. I know your father's soft heart. Yours may not be quite so vulnerable, but if the boarder should happen to look low in his mind after atelegram from anywhere, or should get his precious feet wet----"

"Jimps, go home and be sensible. When Jeannette comes--if she does come, which I doubt more and more--you may be asked over quite a number oftimes during her visit. "

"I presume so. And that's the time you'll have Jefferson down, andyou'll pair off with him, while I do my prettiest not to look like anawkward countryman before the lady who has her picture in the Sundaypapers. "

"Good-night, James Stuart--good-night. "

"Good-night, Georgiana--dear, " Stuart responded cheerfully. But the lastword was under his breath. 

CHAPTER V

SHABBINESS

"I positively didn't know how shabby the house was till I'd readJeannette's letter of acceptance!"

She did not say it to her father--not Georgiana Warne. She said it notto James Stuart, nor to Mr. E. C. Jefferson. Being Georgiana, she saidit to no one but her slightly daunted self. She was standing in the hallas she spoke, the wide, plain hall which ran straight through the middleof the wide, plain house, with its square rooms on either side and itswinding, old-fashioned staircase at the back. Of the house itself, Georgiana was not in the least ashamed. She knew that it possessed acertain charm of aspect, from the fanlight over the entrance door to thebig quaint kitchen with its uneven floor dark with time. It was when onecame to details that the charm sordidly vanished--at least to thecritical vision of the young housewife. Like the worn white paint uponits exterior, the walls and floors within called loudly for a restoringhand. As for the furnishings, Georgiana looked about her with anappraising eye which took in all their dinginess. The old rugs andcarpets were so nearly threadbare; the furniture was so worn; the verymuslin curtains at the windows, though white as hands could make them, had been so many times repaired that even artful draping could notwholly conceal their deficiencies. 

In other ways the household's lack of means made itself plainly apparentto the daughter of the house, as she went from room to room. The linenpress, for instance--how pitifully low its piles of sheets and towelshad grown! Hardly a sheet but had a patch upon it, hardly a towel buthad been cut down and rehemmed, that it might last as long as possible. There was, to be sure, one small tier of towels, handed down fromGeorgiana's grandmother and carefully preserved against much using, ofwhich any mistress of a linen press might be proud. There were also twopairs of fine hand-made linen sheets with borders exquisitely drawn; twopairs of pillow cases to match, and a quite wonderful old bedspread ofknitted lace. 

"I can keep washing out the best towels for her, " Georgiana reflectedresignedly as she counted her resources. 

In the china cupboard there was left quite a stock of rare old platesand dishes which could be used as occasion demanded. The blue-and-whitecrockery which must serve a part of the time was pretty meagre, thesupply of antique silver good as far as it went; it did not go very far. 

But--"After all, " said Georgiana to herself determinedly, "we can giveher good things to eat, and served as attractively as need be--whyshould I mind about the rest? Father in his armchair is a benediction toany meal, and Mr. Jefferson can talk as few guests can who sit at theCrofton table, I'll wager. I'll not be apologetic, even in my mind, nomatter how much I feel like it. I've asked her and she's coming. Shewouldn't be coming if she wasn't in a way willing to take what shefinds. We'll have a good time out of it. "

Whereupon she betook herself to the room which was to be given to hercousin, and fell to work with a will, for this was the last thing to bedone before the arrival of the guest. 

When it was in order she looked about it, not ill content. It would bean exacting guest, surely, who could not be comfortable here--and thereare many guest-rooms of elaborate appointments where guests are notwholly comfortable. This room was large and square and airy, with itsfour windows facing east and south, and the view from the eastern oneswas far-reaching, with a glimpse of blue mountain ranges in thedistance. If the matting upon the floor had been many times turned andrefitted, its worn places were now all cunningly hidden and it was asfresh as the newly scrubbed paint on the woodwork. There was aluxuriously cushioned, high-backed chair--would Jeannette, by anypossibility, recognize the blue silk of those cushion covers? Georgianawondered. Jeannette, who never wore a frock long enough really to becomefamiliar with its pattern, would only know that the cushions were softto her comfort-accustomed body. The woven rag rugs of blue and whiteupon the floor were of Georgiana's own making. An ancient desk, whichhad belonged to Mr. Warne's mother, was carefully fitted with all thesmall articles one could desire in reason, taken from Georgiana'scherished college equipment. The washstand in the corner, behind ahome-made screen of clever design, was furnished with two beautiful oldblue-and-white ewers--the pride of Georgiana's heart, for they had comeover from England with her great grandmother; and the rack was hung asfull with towels as fastidious bather could desire. There were two orthree interesting old prints upon the walls. Altogether, with its smallbedroom fireplace laid ready for a fire, and a blue denim-coveredwoodbox filled to overflowing with more wood----

She had forgotten to fill the woodbox, as yet. It was nearly time todress for Jeannette's coming. Georgiana ran hurriedly downstairs andthrough the kitchen, warm and fragrant with the baking of the day inpreparation for the coming supper, and in that pleasant order which thekitchen of the good housewife shows at four in the afternoon. In thewoodshed beyond she gathered a great armful of wood, not to bother withthe basket, which would not hold so much--and hurried back again, makingtoward the front stairs this time, because the back stairs were narrowand steep, and one could not rush up them at great speed with one's armsfull of wood. 

"Wait a minute, please, Miss Warne!"

The front door of the house shut with a bang, and hasty footsteps caughtup with Georgiana at the foot of the stairs, just as one big sticktumbled loose from her hold and went crashing down behind her. 

"Oh, never mind, " she panted. The load was much heavier than she hadrealized, but she had not meant to be caught upon the front stairs withit--not even if it had been James Stuart who came to her rescue. 

It was not Stuart, but evidently one quite of Stuart's mind, forGeorgiana now found her arms unburdened of their heavy incumbrancewithout further parley, and herself put where she belonged by this coolcommand:

"Never carry a load like this when you have a man in the house. "

"But--but we haven't!" objected Georgiana, her voice a triflebreathless. She followed Mr. Jefferson, as he strode up the stairs withthe wood. She opened the door of the guest-room and lifted the cover ofthe woodbox. 

"Haven't?" he questioned, dumping the wood into the box, and thenstooping to rearrange it. "Would you object to telling me what youconsider me, then?"

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that he was supposed to be aliterary light, but she restrained the too-familiar speech. 

"You are, of course, a boarder--a 'paying guest, ' as we should say, ifwe were some people, " she observed with gravity. "You are expected tocomplain of whatever service you receive, not to offer any under anycircumstances. "

"I see. Were you intending to fill this box?"

He stood upright, and his glance wandered from the box in questionaround the pleasant room in its fresh and expectant order. But it camediscreetly back to Georgiana's face. 

"Not at all, " she denied. "There's quite enough there for to-night. "

He nodded, and went toward the door. "The woodshed is, I suppose, beyondthe kitchen, after the fashion of woodsheds, and the kitchen is beyondthe dining-room?"

"Please don't bother!"

Of course it was useless to protest--and she followed him down thestairs, through dining-room and kitchen to the woodshed. As he passedthrough the kitchen he stopped and stood still in the middle of it. 

"May I look for a minute?" he asked. "It takes me back to my boyhood. Mymother used just such a kitchen as this. I thought it the best room inthe house. "

His lips took on a smile as he looked. Georgiana, with her own hands, had scoured every inch of that kitchen, had made to shine brilliantlyevery utensil which had in it possibilities of shining. It wasimpossible not to feel a housewifely pride in the appearance of theplace, and to exult in the spicy odours which told of the morning'sbakings. 

Mr. Jefferson, going on into the woodshed and returning with awell-balanced load of wood which put Georgiana's late attempt to theblush, assured her that he felt personally competent to attend to thewoodbox without further aid from her, and marched away as if he werequite accustomed to such tasks. 

It may be here stated that next day, when in his absence she looked intohis room to see if the woodbox there were quite empty, she found itquite full, though she could not possibly remember when he haddiscovered the opportunity to do the deed without her knowledge. Andfrom this time forth, during the remainder of his stay, she was obligedto resign herself to the fact that the "man in the house, " though hemight be a boarder, would permit no interference with this self-assumedtask. 

Jeannette had written that she would arrive on a certain Thursdayafternoon between four and five, being conveyed by motor from the largecity, sixty miles away, which was her home. Georgiana, therefore, withmemories of college days again strong upon her, made ready to serveafternoon tea beside the living-room fire. 

"Be prepared to have this function every day while the guest is here, Father Davy, " said she. "Jeannette's undoubtedly accustomed to it andwould miss it more than she could miss any other one thing. But she's tohave only the plainest of thin bread and butter with it, since oursix-o'clock village supper comes so soon after. We mustn't pamper her, must we?"

Mr. Warne, in his armchair by the fireside, ready to welcome the guest, looked up at his daughter with bright eyes. "Pampering, " said he, "isthe atmosphere of this house. Jeannette cannot escape it. I am pamperedbeyond belief every day of my life. At this very moment my eyes arefeasting upon the sight of my child in what must be an absolutely newold dress!"

A peculiar expression crossed Georgiana's face as she glanced down atthe soft gray-blue of the afternoon frock she had donned for theoccasion. 

"I'm wondering if she will recognize it, " she murmured. "It was one ofthe white evening gowns in that last 'Semi-Annual. ' I coloured itmyself--as usual. It really came out pretty well, but it gives me aqueer, conscious feeling to be wearing it when I meet her. Do yousuppose she'll know it, Father Davy?"

"And if she does?" The tone was that of a tender irony. 

"I suppose I'm an idiot to care! I don't care--_but I do_!" Georgianaflung a look at the slim man in the big chair, which said that she wasconfident of his understanding her, no matter what she said. 

"No false pride, daughter, " he warned her. "You can tell the big manfrom the little one by the character of the things he is willing toaccept. There was never any stigma attached to wearing the discardedgarments of another, provided they were come by honestly. And when onehas coloured them, into the bargain--and looks like the 'Portrait of aLady' in them----"

"Father Davy, you're the most comforting creature!" And Georgianadropped a kiss upon the top of the head which rested against the back ofthe worn old armchair. 

If she had not been watching from the window she would not have knownwhen the Crofton car drew up at the door, so quietly did the great, shining motor roll down the macadamized road which ran through the mainstreet of the little town. She was out and down the manse path inhospitable alacrity, yet not without the dignity of which she wasmistress. 

So this was the guest whom she had ventured to ask down to thehospitality of the shabby old village manse! If she had been a princess, Miss Jeannette Crofton could not more thoroughly have looked the part. Georgiana had known many rich men's daughters at college and had foundclose friends among them, but no one of them had ever suggested such abackground of luxury as did this slim and graceful girl, as she set herpretty foot upon the old box-bordered gravel path. She was rather smallof stature, her fair-haired beauty was of a strikingly attractive type, and every detail of her attire and belongings breathed of wealth andfashion. Georgiana felt herself instantly a buxom milkmaid beside her. 

CHAPTER VI

WHEN ROYALTY COMES

"It was so good of you to ask me, " said Jeannette in a voice of muchsweetness, as she put out her hand to her cousin. Then she turned to theman in livery who stood at attention by the door of the car. "You maytake this coat back with you, Dennis, " she said; and she let him removefrom her shoulders the long, fur-lined cloak she had worn for the Marchdrive. He gathered together her belongings, as she walked up the pathwith Georgiana, and he afterward went back for a long motor trunk whichhad been brought upon the back of the car. Besides this was a largerreceptacle of black leather which he brought and deposited in the hall. 

"Dennis can take all these to my room for me, " said Jeannette, with moreappreciation of the situation than Georgiana had expected. Dennis didnot look altogether pleased with this task, but he performed it and wasrewarded by a smile from his young mistress, which promised to soothehis injured dignity at some future time. 

Mr. Warne, rising slowly from the armchair as Jeannette was broughtinto his presence, looked keenly into the face of his sister's daughter. Her fine clothing was nothing to him; he could not have told what shewore; but he was interested in learning what she might be, herself. Itwas something of a test for any stranger, the meeting of that clear lookof his, kindly though it was sure to be. With all his appearance offrailty and exhaustion, one felt instinctively that whatever hadhappened to the body, the mind was intact and resolute with energy, thejudgment swift and accurate. 

As they all took tea together Georgiana could feel their guest strivingto adjust herself to her entertainers. Her manner was very charming, though a little languid, a little weary, as if she were tired with herlong drive--and with other things besides. But there was that about herwhich proclaimed her unmistakably the gentlewoman, and this was good toknow. She got on well with her newly discovered uncle, and he with her. Indeed, the simplicity and straight-forwardness of Father Davy's mannerwith every one, his keen observation, his ready imagination, would haveput him instantly on an equal footing with the most exalted of hisfellow-creatures. It could do no less with his niece, no matter how newto her his type of man might be, nor how new to him the fashion of herspeech and smile. 

This was a pleasant beginning. But if Georgiana, before her guestarrived, had thought the old house shabby, she felt it now to bepositively shambling. She struggled mightily against this attitude ofmind, knowing that it was unworthy of her, but, as she led thiswonderful, winsome creature, whom she knew to be accustomed only to thesoftnesses of life, up over the worn stair carpeting to the room she hadprepared for her, she was wondering how she herself had ever conceivedthe preposterous idea of inviting her cousin to visit her; the task ofmaking this daughter of luxury comfortable, even for a fortnight, seemedsuddenly so impossible. 

"Oh, how very attractive!" exclaimed Jeannette, as she was taken intothe room over which Georgiana had spent so much thought. "I shall loveit here!"

That was to be her attitude, thought Georgiana. Being exceedinglywell-bred, the guest was prepared to like everything that was done forher. Though this was precisely what was to be expected and desired, Georgiana found herself already irritated by it--most unreasonably, itmust be admitted. 

"I'm a jealous goose!" said she sternly to herself, and fell to helpingher cousin. There was something appealing about the girl's helplessness, because she evidently tried hard not to show it. As the two lifted thegarments from the carefully packed trunk trays it was Georgiana whofound the right places for them in clothespress and bureau drawers. Shehad seldom seen, never handled, such exquisite apparel, from the pilesof sheer, convent-embroidered linen to the frocks and wraps and négligéswhich went into retirement on the padded hangers she had provided. Sherealized, too, that elaborate as seemed to her the array of clothingJeannette had thought it necessary to bring for her visit, it wasprobable that the girl herself had felt that she was having packed onlythe simplest of her wardrobe and the least that a civilized being coulddo with. 

It was when Jeannette herself spread forth upon the littledressing-table--cleverly contrived out of an old washstand, a long andnarrow mirror, and some odds and ends of muslin and lace--the articlesshe was accustomed to use every day of her life, but which might havebeen matched only in the homes of princes, that the young hostess foundit hardest to control the pang of envy which smote her. Such silver, such crystal, such genuine ivory--and such sheer beauty of design andfinish! Yet Jeannette was almost awkward in her disposal of the imposingarray, saying with a laugh that she really couldn't remember how thethings went at home, but that it didn't matter in the least. 

She set about removing her traveling clothes as if she never had beenwaited upon in her life. It was only when she failed to discover how shewas put together that Georgiana had to come to the rescue. 

"It's dreadfully stupid of me, " protested Jeannette, her delicate cheeksflushing, "but I simply can't find that absurd hook. "

It was then that Georgiana frankly took the situation by its horns anddid away with all embarrassment. 

"You must let me help you, Jean, " she said, finishing the unhooking withease, "whenever you need it. I shall love to do it, for you might haverather a bad time trying to do everything for yourself. There youare--and please call me when you are ready to be fastened into yourother frock. I'm just around the corner, and there's nobody else at homenow. "

Before supper was served, Georgiana prepared her cousin to meet "theboarder. " Not on any account would she have let his presence beaccounted for on the score of his being a guest in the house; not evenwould she call him a "paying guest. "

"Mr. Jefferson came to us through a letter from a friend. He said hewanted a quiet place to work in, away from all interruptions by friendsor claims of any sort. He is writing a book, and we see as little of himas if he were not in the house--except at the table. I think you willlike him. It's so long since we have had a man in the house we're notyet used to it, but on the whole it's rather comforting. "

"How interesting--to have a book being written in the house! Is it factor fiction, do you know?"

"I don't imagine it's fiction. He has piles of reference books, and agreat deal of mail, and--somehow--he doesn't look as if he wrotefiction. "

Yet, as Mr. Jefferson came into the dining-room that night, Georgianafound herself wondering why she should think he did not look as if hewould write fiction--not foolish fiction, certainly, but sensiblefiction, made possible by keen observation and set off by a capacity forquiet--possibly even biting--humour. He looked at least as if he mightwrite essays, thoughtful, clever essays, full of searching analyses ofhis fellow human creatures, of their oddities, their hopes, theiraspirations, their sins, and their virtues. Or--was he, after all, writing on scientific matters--facts, pure and simple; inferences, deductions, conclusions from facts? She wondered, more than she had yetdone, as to the nature of his work. 

"I think Mr. Jefferson is delightful, " said Jeannette cordially, besidethe living-room fire, when supper was over, and the boarder, afterlingering in the living-room doorway for a minute, but declining on thescore of work Mr. Warne's invitation to enter, had gone his wayupstairs. On this first night Georgiana had let the disordered diningtable wait, and had accompanied the others to the fireside as if she hada dozen servants to attend to her household affairs. "After this, shewon't notice so much, " she had argued with herself. "I don't want tohave her offering to help. I don't mean to do a thing differently on heraccount, but I can't help--well, _shying_ at the dishes the very firstminute after supper!"

"A man of fine intellect, " Father Davy responded to his niece'sobservation, "and accustomed to think worthy thoughts. One can see thatat once. It is a real pleasure to have him here. It is good for us, too. Georgiana and I were growing narrow before he came. He has broadened us;we get his point of view on subjects that we thought had been disposedof for all time--and find them not disposed of at all. "

Before the moment arrived when, in Georgiana's mind, the waiting work inthe kitchen must be done without further postponement, the front doorwas besieged by James Stuart. A basket of late winter apples in hand, hecame in, looking the image of vigorous youth, his well-set-up figureshowing its best in the irreproachable clothes he always wore when hisday's work was over, his manner, as usual, that of the friend of thehouse. He had not received Georgiana's permission to come in upon thisfirst evening of Miss Crofton's visit, but he had taken his welcome forgranted and was not disappointed in receiving it. It was impossible notto be glad to see his smiling face, for his good looks were backed by acapacity for adapting himself to whatever company he might find himselfin, though it should be of the most distinguished. 

Presenting Stuart to her cousin, it occurred to Georgiana to wonder asto the impression each must make upon the other. Jeannette was wearing afrock of a peculiar shade of blue which the firelight and lamplight, instead of dulling, seemed to make almost to glow. It was the sort ofapparently simple attire which is the product of high art, and in it, sitting just where all lights seemed to play together upon hair andcheek and perfect throat, the visitor was, as Georgiana owned toherself, certainly worth looking at. 

She left them together presently and went off to the kitchen. Here shecovered from view with a big pinafore her own undeniably attractivefigure and fell upon her task, proceeding to dispatch it with all thespeed compatible with quiet. She had cleared the table, and, havingarranged her dishes in orderly piles, was just filling her dishpan withthe steaming water which made suds as it fell upon the soap, when afamiliar footstep was heard upon the bare kitchen floor. 

Georgiana looked over her shoulder, words of reproof upon her lips:"Well--having come without an invitation, the least you can do is tostay where you belong and entertain the guest. "

"There's a characteristic welcome for you!" The intruder seemed in nowise daunted by his reception, but picked up a dish towel and stood atease, waiting the placing of the first tumbler in the rinsing pan. "Andwhere should I belong, if not standing by a chum in distress?"

"I'm not in distress, if you please. "

"Don't mind washing dishes while the guest sits by the fire?"

"Not a bit--more than usual, " Georgiana amended honestly. 

"Why don't you pile 'em up and let 'em wait till morning?"

"I shouldn't sleep for thinking of them. "

"My word, but you're a hustler! I don't know whether I can keep up. "

"Don't try. Go back to the other room, please, Jimps. You can be of realuse there. "

"Well, I like that!"

As he wiped away assiduously, Stuart surveyed his companion's face inprofile. It belied the dictatorial words, for Georgiana was smiling. Hercheeks were of a splendid colour, her dark hair drooped over theprettiest white forehead in the world, and the whole outline of her facewas distracting. Here was a lamplight effect which rivalled the one inthe living-room, though it was thrown from a common kitchen lamp, unshaded, and fell upon a figure in a red-and-white checked apron. Georgiana glanced at her self-appointed assistant and encountered theflash of an eye which told her that, however Stuart objected to herwords, he liked the look of what he saw. 

"Isn't Jeannette a beauty?" she inquired hastily, and plunged her handsinto her pan with such energy that she sent a splash of hot, soapy waterupon Stuart's cheek. He surreptitiously wiped it off with a corner ofhis dish towel. 

"She sure is, " he assented cordially. "I wasn't prepared for quite sucha looker. She doesn't seem to have brought with her that proud andhaughty expression she had in the Sunday papers. "

"She's a dear, and not in the least proud and haughty. I'm going toenjoy her visit, I know. If I can only make her enjoy it!"

"I'll be glad to help, " Stuart offered. "This isn't a very promisingtime of year for the country, but if you think she'd like any of thegood times we can give her here, I'll get them up. "

"Our sort of good times is just what I do want to give her. She's hadenough of her own kind and needs the diversion. What would you get up, for instance?"

"I'll take overnight to think it out, but I can promise you it'll be anoutdoor affair. Would she be up to any kind of a tramp, do you think?"

"Oh, no, Jimps! Not yet, at any rate. "

"All right. I'll harness up my best team and carry her most of the way. We must have another man, I suppose. Shall we ask the literary light, just for a lark? It would give tone to the company to have him along, eh?"

"He probably wouldn't go. "

"Don't you fool yourself. A fellow who covers as many miles a day as hedoes will jump at it, no matter how important his next chapter is. Doyou know, I'll have to admit I rather like him since I tramped a coupleof miles in his company the other day. There are a lot of interestingideas in his head, and I got him to give me the benefit of a few ofthem. Drew him out, you know. Though to be strictly honest"--with alaugh--"when I thought it over afterward I wasn't exactly sure that hehadn't drawn me out rather more than I drew him. Anyhow, the interestseemed to be mutual, and that flattered me a bit. It's perfectly evidentthat he's a great student of affairs. "

They finished the work at a gallop. Georgiana slipped off her pinafore, and Stuart, who had insisted on waiting for her, hung it upon itsaccustomed nail. 

"Do you suppose pretty cousin ever wore one?" he queried. 

CHAPTER VII

SNOWBALLS

Mr. E. C. Jefferson laid down his pen, ran his hand through his heavybrown hair, rumpling it still more than it had been rumpledbefore--which is saying considerable--and stretched his legs under thetable upon which he had been writing steadily since half-past oneo'clock. He heaved a mighty breath, stretched his arms to match hislegs, looked round at his windows, which faced the west, and so had kepthim supplied with strong light longer than windows on any other side ofthe house would have done, and took out his watch. 

Nearly half-past four. Time, and more than time, for his late afternoontramp. He set the piles of sheets before him in order, sheathed his penand put it in his pocket, and rose from his place, the light ofachievement in his eye, but crampiness and fatigue in all his limbs. 

As he approached his windows to ascertain what kind of weather was to befound outside, he became aware of sounds which would indicate that someevent of activity and hilarity was going on below. He realized now thathe had been hearing these sounds--quite without hearing them, after thefashion of the absorbed workman--for the last half-hour. Looking out, hebeheld an interesting affair in full swing. 

At each end of the side yard the heavy snow which a late March storm hadbrought overnight had been shovelled and manipulated into the semblanceof a fort such as lads are wont to make. Between these two entrenchmentsa battle was raging. But it was no lads who held the places of thecombatants. Instead, as he looked, Mr. Jefferson saw rising warily frombehind the fort nearest him, a girlish figure in a scarlet blanket suit, its dark head half shielded by a scarlet toboggan cap very much awry. Amittened hand flung a snowball with strength and precision straight intothe opposite fort, and the assailant immediately dodged down behind theembankment. 

From the opposing stronghold then cautiously appeared a head snuglybound in a blue scarf, from which locks of fair hair escaped at diverspoints. A second snowball, accompanied by a loose flutter of snow, wended its way uncertainly through the air, and fell a foot short of thefort behind which crouched the scarlet figure. The figure immediatelyrose and fired an answering volley. Peals of laughter and gay shoutsrang through the air. 

At this very moment a third person ran into the yard from the street, calling: "For shame, George! I'm going to take sides with the enemy, and we'll have you out in no time!"

Jefferson saw this third figure, in sweater and cap, dash across theopen, narrowly escaping a vigorous shower of missiles from the nearfort, and disappear behind the farther one. 

The battle was now on in earnest. Let Scarlet Toboggan fire as fast andas furiously as she might, a merciless bombardment of her protectingwalls had begun. The girl in the blue scarf--and priceless furs--hadsunk laughing upon the floor of her refuge, while her new ally, bringingto bear the full strength and skill of his sex, battered at theentrenchments across the yard, and began to make havoc thereon. 

Georgiana was a brave foe, but though she fought with surprisingendurance she was beginning to be seriously worsted, several feet of hersnow rampart having been shot away, when a voice behind her cried out acommand, and an arm, more sinewy than hers, sent a hard shot whizzingpast her head into the opposite fort with that directness of aim andeffectiveness of delivery which only the male arm can accomplish. 

"Duck down and make snowballs while I fire!" the voice ordered, andGeorgiana, breathless but still undaunted, obeyed. 

"Keep behind me, and pile the balls at the right, " directed Jefferson. His voice was eager as a boy's. He also had pulled on sweater and cap, and as he and James Stuart faced each other across the twenty yardswhich separated them, they might have been a couple of school-fellowswrestling for supremacy. 

"Keep 'em coming--faster--faster!" Stuart urged Jeannette, the lust ofbattle upon him. "Stop laughing and work! George is a"--he stooped tomake a ball for himself--"fiend at making 'em; you've got to learn! Keep'em coming. "

The wet snow was precisely in the right state for quick packing, andGeorgiana was indeed an expert at the business. Jefferson found herhard, round balls splendid missiles, and he used them with all theenergy of an arm which welcomed the change from the labours of the pasthours to those of the present. 

"Ha! there goes that left corner!" he exulted with his comrade-at-arms, as the last of a series of well-directed shots reduced a part of theenemies' defences to a gratifying slump. "And here comes a bit of ours, "he added, as a ball of Stuart's ploughed through a weakened upperportion of their own rampart. 

"He'll be game to the last, " panted Georgiana, working furiously. 

"So will we! We'll fight to a finish, if we go without our suppers. "

The battle raged on. The combatants took no heed of passing time, untilJeannette, growing reckless with excitement, lifted an incautious headand received a spent ball full upon her chin. No harm was done, as sheprotested, but Stuart raised a flag of truce and Mr. Jefferson ranacross the lines to apologize. 

"It didn't hurt a bit, " Jeannette reaffirmed, showing a very pink chin. 

"It's lucky it didn't. I wasn't properly protecting you, " Stuartdeclared warmly. 

"Both sides come in to supper!" commanded Georgiana. "Please stay, Jimps; it's the only amends we can make you, and you must be as hungryas a bear. "

"Thanks; I'd like to, but I'm not properly dressed, I'm afraid. "

"Jean and I won't make a change, and you can take us coasting thisevening, if you will. Do you suppose Mr. Jefferson would dream ofstaving off his dignity a bit longer and going, too?"

They all looked at the person mentioned and their glances were all gaylyaudacious. 

"Is that an invitation or a challenge?" He put it to Georgiana. 

"Whichever you choose to take it. "

"I'll take it as I choose, then, and accept. The spirit of sport is uponme; I couldn't work this evening if I tried. "

"Good for you! 'All work and no play, ' you know, " quoted Stuart, as theywent in together, a moist and merry company. 

Upstairs, while Jeannette dried her hair, she reflected that she didn'tknow when she had had so gay a time. She ran in to say this toGeorgiana, but found that that young woman had already put her hair inorder without drying it, as its damply curling locks above her foreheadtestified, and was rushing away downstairs to the kitchen. 

"Won't you take cold?" suggested Jeannette, struggling with her own wetbraids, and very naturally wishing for her maid to dry and put them inorder. 

"Mercy, no; not over the kitchen stove. They'll be dry soon enough, " wasthe reply; and Georgiana vanished, the supper on her mind. 

When Jeannette came down, half an hour later, and appeared in thekitchen doorway, she saw that the speed of her young hostess's laboursand the warmth of the kitchen were quite likely to prevent all chance ofundried locks. 

There was system about Georgiana's work, fast as was its pace. Each tripacross the floor, from pantry to dining-room and back again, demonstrated housewifely efficiency. Both hands were always full and sheseemed never to forget what she meant to do. If she passed the stove onher way somewhere she stopped to stir something or to glance into theoven, and when she went to the storeroom for cream she brought awaybread and butter as well. 

Jeannette commented admiringly. "Don't you ever forget and have to runback for something?" she inquired. 

"Goodness, yes! But when you've been over certain ground several milliontimes, it's a pity if you can't make your head save your heels as arule. Excuse me, dear; but if you wouldn't mind standing just a foot ortwo to the left----"

Jeannette turned. "I see; I'm in the way when I'd like so much to help. Isn't there anything I could do?"

"All done, thank you--except--would you just arrange that boxful ofscarlet geraniums Jimps brought over, for the table? That would helpvery much. Take any bowl or glass from the dining-room cupboard thatlooks appropriate to you. "

"I'd love to. " And Jeannette fell to work--if it could be called work. Never in her life had she arranged scarlet geraniums as a tabledecoration, or, for that matter, seen them so used. But as she placedthe splendid, thrifty blooms, each with its accompanying rich greenleaves, in the plain brown bowl which she felt best matched theirundistinguished beauty, she discovered for the first time that otherblossoms besides roses and orchids, chrysanthemums, and the rest of theordinary florists' products, may charm the eye from the centre of asnowy cloth. 

"That's gorgeous! Thank you so much! Aren't they the jolliest flowers inthe world for a winter night? Jimps's greenhouses certainly are doingwell. Don't you want a bit of a blossom in your hair? Their grower wouldfeel tremendously complimented. "

"Red's not my colour, but it is yours. Let me tuck this little sprig inthese braids, and I'll risk the grower's being better pleased than if Iwore them. "

Georgiana submitted, and promptly forgot all about the scarletdecoration. But the others did not--found forgetting it, indeed, quiteimpossible. As they gathered about the table, it caught the eye of eachin turn. Georgiana's cheeks, from the vigorous exercise in the frostyair, were glowing brilliantly; her eyes were wonderful to look at; herdark cloth dress had upon it no relief of colour; so the scarletgeranium in her hair was the touch of the artist which drew the eye andheld it. She had placed upon the table, instead of the customary lamp, one of the few treasures of the house, a fine old candelabrum, withpendent crystals, and the burning candles threw their mellow lightdirectly into her face. 

She looked up suddenly, after having served each one from the dishbefore her, and found them all looking at her. James Stuart's fork wassuspended above his plate, but the others had not yet taken theirs. Shegazed at them in amazement. 

"Why, what is the matter?" she cried. "Do I--is something queer aboutme? Have I missed a point somebody has made?"

They all turned then, laughing, to their plates, and nobody would tellher what was wrong. Stuart seemed to think it a great joke--hermystification. When she removed the plates for the second course--therewere but two in the simple, hearty little supper--she glanced into thesmall kitchen mirror. Her eye caught the scarlet geranium. 

"I suppose I look ridiculously sentimental with that flower just there, "she thought. "But I won't take it out after Jean put it there. No wonderthey laughed. "

An hour afterward they were all out upon the hill nearby. Stuartpossessed a splendid pair of "bobs, " and they were soon dashing down thehill at a pace which, while it made Jeannette hold her breath withmingled fear and joy, made Georgiana cry out, "Oh! is there anything soglorious?" and made Mr. Jefferson, just behind her, watching over hershoulder, respond with heartiness: "The snow fight took five years offmy age, and now here goes another five. I must be almost as young as youare now, Miss Warne. "

"Oh, no; I'm only ten myself to-night, " she answered. "Coasting was oneof my earliest joys. I was so proud when I could steer Jimps Stuart'sfirst pair of bobs--small and primitive ones compared with these. "

She found Mr. Jefferson beside her when it came to the walk back up thehill. A new side of him was visible to-night. He was not the quietstudent and writer, the man who discussed with her father and herselfthe course of the world's events or the problems of social service, buta light-hearted boy, much like Stuart, and ready to abet all the otherman's efforts for the amusement of the party. 

The fun went on for an hour; then Jeannette, unaccustomed to so muchvigorous exercise, began quite against her will to show evidences offatigue, and after one particularly long, swift flight the party wentback to the house. There followed another gay hour before the fire, while Stuart roasted chestnuts, and Georgiana, sitting on the flooragainst her father's knee, told stones of madcap pranks at college, illustrating them by such changes of facial expression and suchsignificant gestures that her hearers spent themselves with theirlaughter. 

Jeannette, lying back in a shabby but comfortable old armchair, lookedand listened with the absorbed interest of one to whom such simplepleasures as these had the flavour of absolute novelty. Her eyeswandered from Georgiana's vivid face to her father's delicate one; toJames Stuart's comely features glowing ruddily in the firelight as hetended his chestnuts, showing splendid white teeth as he roared atGeorgiana's clever mimicry or turned to laugh into Jeannette's eyes ashe offered her a particularly plump and succulently bursting specimen ofhis labours; to Mr. Jefferson's maturer personality, his brown eyeskeenly intent, his face lighted with enjoyment, his occasional commentson Georgiana's adventures flashing with a dry humour which matched hersand sometimes quite outdid it. To Jeannette they were all an engrossingstudy. As for herself----

"She's the loveliest thing I ever saw, " thought Georgiana from time totime as she glanced up at her cousin, whose fair hair against the darkcushion of the old chair caught and held the charm of the fire's ownwarmth in its gleaming strands. Jeannette's eyes were matchless bylamplight; her cheeks and lips were glowing from the outdoor life of theday and evening; her smile was a thing to imprison hearts and hold themfast. If she spoke little no one thought of her as silent, and the charmof her low laughter at the sallies of the others was the sheerestflattery, it was so evidently born of genuine delight in the clevernessshe did not attempt to emulate. 

"I'm a clown beside her, " said Georgiana to herself. "Who cares how awoman talks when she looks like that? Every line of her is absolutegrace and beauty, every turn of her head is fascination itself. I neversaw such eyes. That little twist in the corner of her lip when shesmiles is the most delicious thing I ever saw. Jimps looks at it fortytimes in every five minutes and I can't blame him. Mr. Jefferson keepshis chair facing that way so he can have her all the time in focus, though he doesn't eat her up as Jimps does. I can't blame either ofthem. And I shall go on being a clown, because that's what I can do andit amuses them. If I should lie back in a chair like that and just smilewithout saying anything, Father Davy would say, 'Daughter, don't youfeel quite well?' and Jimps would propose getting me a cup of tea. Oh, well--how absurd of me to mind because another girl looks like a pictureby a wonderful painter while I look like--a lurid lithograph by nobodyat all!"

Whereupon she set her strong, white teeth into a hot, roasted chestnut, cracked it, and, regarding the halves, said: "This reminds me of thenight Prexy lost his head"--and brought down the house with the merriesttale of all. It was so irresistibly absurd that Jeannette, helpless withher mirth, buried her face in her cobweb handkerchief, Stuart rockedupon his knees and made the welkin ring, and Mr. Jefferson laughed in agrowling bass that gathered volume as the preposterousness of thesituation grew upon him with consideration of it. Even Mr. Warne, whoseexpressions of amusement were usually noiseless, gave way to soft littlechuckles of appreciation, and wiped his tear-filled eyes. 

Georgiana, finishing her chestnut, looked upon them all and told themthey were the most gratifying audience she had ever addressed, but thatshe feared it was not good for them to give way to their emotions sounrestrainedly, and that she should therefore not open her lips againthat night. As they found it impossible to break down this resolution, even with entreaties backed by offerings of worldly goods, the partybroke up. Georgiana carried off her guest to put her to bed with her ownhands, while Mr. Jefferson and James Stuart smoked a bedtime pipetogether in the boarder's room; after which Stuart let himself quietlyout of a door that was never locked, to reflect, as he tramped homewardover the snow, on what an inordinately jolly evening it had been. 

CHAPTER VIII

SOAPSUDS

"Will you think I'm dreadful, Georgiana dear, " asked Jeannette, lyingluxuriously back upon her pillow while her cousin sat braiding her ownthick locks by the little bedroom fireplace in which the last remnantsof the fire were smouldering, "if I say I shouldn't have believed Icould possibly have such a good time in such a way? I never did anythingthe least bit like it. "

"Never coasted?"

"Never. "

"Never threw snowballs?"

"Not that I can remember. "

"Nor roasted chestnuts?"

"I never tasted one before--except perhaps in the stuffing of a fowl. "

"Poor child! But at least you've sat by the fire with other girls andmen and told stories, little Jean?"

The guest considered. "Of course--at house parties. Yet I can't seem torecall any such scene as the one we just left, down by your fire. Icertainly never sat on the floor with my arm on my father's knee, witha group of people around, while somebody told stories--sure not suchstories as you told. Oh, you're the cleverest girl I ever knew, to tellsuch things in such a way! It was perfectly splendid! How those two mendid enjoy it! I don't know when I've heard men laugh in just that way. "

"Just what way? Please tell me how they laughed differently from othermen. To be sure, Jimps just lets go when he's amused and raises therafters with his howls of glee; but so do other young men of his age. And certainly Mr. Jefferson laughed decorously enough. "

"Yes, but it was so whole-souled with both of them; and yet there wasn'ta thing in your stories but--oh, I can't tell you just what I mean, ifyou don't know. But somehow it all struck me so differently from the wayany girl-and-man evening ever struck me before. There--there seems adifferent air to breathe here--if that expresses it--from any I've everbeen in. "

The two regarded each other, Jeannette from between half-closed, deeplyfringed eyelids as she lay back upon her pillows, one arm, half veiledwith the finest of linen and lace, outstretched upon the treasuredold-time counterpane, the other beneath her neck; Georgiana sitting upstraight, with two long, dark braids hanging over her shoulders, herdusky eyes wide open, her cheeks still bright with colour balanced bythe scarlet hue of the loose garment she had put on. 

"I've no doubt there is, " agreed Georgiana thoughtfully. "Still, thoughyou live a very different life from any I've ever known, I didn'tsuppose your education in the matter of roast chestnuts--and the thingsthat go with them--had been quite so badly neglected. To think of neverhaving had them except so disguised by the manipulations of a French_chef_ that you couldn't recognize them! And to have gone to balls andhorse shows and polo games--and never to have built a snow fort! Dear, dear, what we have to teach you! Life hasn't been really fair to you, has it, my dear?"

This was sheer audacity, from a poor girl to a rich one, but it wascharming audacity none the less and by no means wholly ironic. ToJeannette, studying her cousin with eyes which were envious of thephysical superiority for lack of which no training in the social arts ormere ability to purchase the aid of dressmaker and milliner couldpossibly atone, conscious that Georgiana possessed a mind far keener andbetter trained than her own, the question called for a serious answer. She half sat up and pushed her pillow into a soft mountain behind her asshe spoke:

"No, it hasn't! I thought so before I came here and now I'm sure of it. I feel a weak and helpless creature beside you--helpless in every way. Ican't do anything you can. If my father should lose his money and Ishould be thrown upon my own resources, I shouldn't be able to make somuch as a--snowball for myself!"

Both laughed in spite of Jeannette's earnestness, for the words broughtback vivid memories of the wild sport of the afternoon. Then Georgiana'sready brain leaped to the inevitable corollary:

"Ah, but there'd be sure to be a man ready to dash into your fort andmake your snowballs for you!"

"I'm not so sure. "

"I am. "

"Of course the men I know don't seem to mind whether a girl is helplessor not, if she can look and act the way they want her to. But--I'mdiscovering that there are other kinds of men, and somehow I like thisnew kind. And I imagine this kind wouldn't care for helpless girls. Youmade snowballs for your man to throw, and they were good hard ones, asmy chin can still testify. "

"You can learn to make hard snowballs, " said Georgiana, smiling. 

Jeannette held up one beautifully modelled but undeniably slender armand clasped it with her hand. "Soft as----" She paused for a simile. 

"Sponge cake, " supplied Georgiana, coming over to feel critically of theextended arm. "It _is_ pretty spongy. It needs exercise with a punchballor"--she flashed a mischievous glance at the languid form besideher--"a batch of bread dough. "

"Bread dough! Would that help it?"

"Rather! So would sweeping, and scrubbing, and moving furniture about. But you're born to a life of ease, my dear, so those things are out ofthe question for you. But fencing lessons would be good for you--andfashionable, too, which would double their value, of course. "

"Georgiana!" Jeannette sat straight up and laid two coaxing arms abouther cousin's firmly moulded neck. "Teach me to make bread, will you, while I'm here?"

"Oh, good gracious!" Georgiana threw back her head to laugh. "Hear thechild! What good would that do, if you learned? You wouldn't do it whenyou went back. "

"I would!--Well, of course, I might have difficulty in--but mother wantsme to be strong; she's always fussing about it because I can't endurethe round of society things she says any girl ought to--and enjoy. Ifyou thought bread-making would really help----"

"It would be a drop in the bucket of exercise you ought to take. "

"Nevertheless, I want to learn, " persisted Jeannette as Georgiana movedaway, evidently with the intention of leaving her for the night. "I'dlike to feel I knew how. And your bread is the most delicious I evertasted. Please!"

"Oh, very well; I'll teach you with pleasure. I shall be setting breadsponge at six to-morrow morning. Will you be down?" Georgiana's smilewas distinctly wicked. 

"Six o'clock!" There was a look of mingled incredulity and horror in thelovely face on the pillow. "But--does bread--does bread have to be madeso early?"

"Absolutely. After the morning dew is off the grass, bread becomesheavy. "

Jeannette stared into the mocking eyes of her cousin; then she laughed. "Oh, I see. You're testing me. Well, "--with a stifled sigh--"I'll get upif you'll call me. I'm afraid I should never wake myself--especiallyafter all that snowballing----"

"Exactly. And I'll not call you. So lie still in your nest, ladybird, and don't bother your pretty head about bread sponges. What's the use?You'll never need to know, and you'll soon forget having had even afaint desire toward knowledge. Good-night--and sleep sweetly. "

"Oh, but wait! I'm really serious. Please call me!"

"Never!"

With one laughing backward look and with a kiss waved toward the slenderfigure now sitting up in bed, Georgiana opened the door and fled. Thatshe did not want to teach her cousin an earthly thing, even if she couldhave believed Jeannette serious in her request, was momentarily growingmore evident to her own consciousness. Just why, she might have beenunwilling to explain. 

Next morning, however, she found herself destined to carry out the planJeannette had so impulsively proposed. She crept downstairs as quietlyas the creaking boards under the worn stair carpet would permit, andbegan her work in a whirl of haste. But she had not more than assembledher ingredients on the scrupulously scoured top of the old pine tablewhen she heard the kitchen door softly open. Wheeling, she beheld avision which brought a boyish whistle to her lips. 

Jeannette, enveloped in a long silken garment evidently thrown on overher night attire, a little cap of lace and ribbon confining her hair, the most impractical of slippers on her feet, stood smiling at hercousin, sleep still clinging to her eyelids. 

"I'm down, " she announced in triumph. 

"So I see. But you're not up, " replied Georgiana, regarding the visionwith critical eyes. 

Jeannette's gaze left the trim morning garb of the young cook, herperfectly arranged hair, her whole aspect of efficiency, and dropped toher own highly inappropriate attire, and she flushed a little. But sheheld her ground. 

"You didn't call me, and when I woke it was so near six I didn't darewait to dress. Can't I learn unless I'm dressed like you?"

"If a French doll had come to life and offered to help me in the kitchenI couldn't feel more stunned. What will happen to all those floatingends of lace and ribbon, when they get mixed with flour and yeast? Besensible, child, and go back to bed. "

"I'll pin everything out of the way, and perhaps you'll lend me anapron. I really don't want to bother you, Georgiana, but I do want tolearn. "

Georgiana relented. "Very well. Come here, and I'll cover you up as bestI can. Or I'll wait while you run up and dress--if you've anything toput on that's fit for bread-making. "

"Nothing much fitter than this, I'm afraid, " admitted Jeannettereluctantly. 

"Poor little girl!" Georgiana's momentary irritation was gone, as itusually was, in no time at all. "Well, here go the frills under a nicebig gingham all-over; and now you look like a combination of SleepingBeauty and Mother Bunch! All right; here we go into business. Do youknow how to scald that cupful of milk you see before you?"

"Scald it?" repeated Jeannette doubtfully--and so the lesson began. 

Absolute ignorance on the part of the pupil, assured knowledge on thatof the teacher--the lesson was a very kindergarten in methods. Therewere times when Georgiana had much difficulty in restraining her inwardmirth, but she soon saw that this must be done, though Jeannette herselflaughed at her own clumsiness, and evidently was determined to letnothing escape her. 

"Kneading looks so easy when you do it, " she lamented; "but I can't seemto help getting stuck. "

"That will come with practice--if you ever try another batch, which Idoubt. And it's the kneading that is so good for your arms. "

"Yours are beautiful--and so strong, it must be fun to own them. "

"There are times when a bit of muscle is of use in a hustling world, "admitted her cousin. "There, I think that dough will do very well. Turnit over and lay it smoothly in the bowl--so. Cover it with its whiteblanket--so; and leave it right here, where it will have a good warmtemperature to rise in. Now, run up and snatch another nap; you'll haveplenty of time. "

"You're not going back to bed?"

"Rather not!" Georgiana's smile strove to be tolerant. "There are just afew things to be done about the house, and they are best done beforebreakfast. Off with you, lady cousin!"

"Do you always get up so early?" Jeannette persisted. 

"I have an extraordinary fondness for early rising, " Georgianaexplained. "It's foolish, of course, but it's an old habit. Good-bye, mydear; my next errand is down cellar, " and she vanished from the sight ofher guest, quite unable to keep herself longer in hand before theamazing point of view of this daughter of luxury. 

The "next errand" was the washing of the handful of fine towels withwhich the painstaking hostess was keeping the guest-room supplied, unwilling to furnish the aristocratic young person upstairs with thecoarser articles used by herself and the others. Jeannette, all unawarethat the snowy linen with which her room was kept plentifully suppliedwas constantly relaundered in secret by Georgiana's own hands, was aslavish in her use of it as she was accustomed to be at home, and theresult was a quite unbelievable amount of extra work for her cousin. 

Mr. Warne, coming upon his daughter by chance in this very early morningflurry of laundering, expressed himself upon the subject in the gentlebut positive way which was his. 

"Why do it, my dear?" he questioned. "Are the sheets and towels we usenot quite good enough for others?"

"Not half good enough for Lady Jean, " responded the laundress, rubbingenergetically away--yet carefully, too, for the old linen was not sostout as it once had been. 

"You are intentionally deceiving her, aren't you, daughter? Why dothat?--since it is not necessary for her comfort. "

"But it is. She would shudder at the touch of a cotton sheet. As for acommon huck towel----"

Mr. Warne shook his head. "I can't agree with you. So that the sheetsand towels are spotless--as your sheets and towels are--the mere degreeof fineness is not essential. And if she knew how much labour it costsyou, I am very certain she would infinitely prefer to be less of aspendthrift in the matter of quantity. "

"I've no doubt she would. But I'd rather wash my fingers off than notgive her the fresh towel for her perfect face each time she uses one. I'd like it myself. I'd like a million towels, all fine as silk. I'dlike----" She stopped abruptly, seeing the look upon her father's face. "Oh, I'm sorry!" she flashed at him repentantly. "I truly don't mindbeing poor in most ways. It's the lack of certain things that go withnicety of living that grinds me most. I shouldn't mind wearing ginghamoutside, if I could have all the fine linen I want underneath. It's--it's--oh, well, you know! And I'm an idiot to talk about it whenthe thing we really need is books--books for your starving mind. If Icould get you all you want of those----" Her voice broke upon the wish, always strong with her. 

"My dear, my mind will never starve while it has the old books to feedupon. Listen, on what a pertinent thought did I come this morning. I wasdelving in good old Thomas Fuller, of those fine seventeenth-centurywriters whose works still glow with fire: '_Though my guest was never sohigh, yet, by the laws of hospitality, I was above him whilst under myroof_. '"

The girl laughed, dashing away a hot tear with the back of a soapy hand. "Trust you to find a classic to turn a tragedy into a comedy, " she said. "Go away now, Father Davy, and I'll soon be through. It's a poorwasherwoman I am to be thinning my suds with brine!"

CHAPTER IX

A REASONABLE PROPOSITION

"You'll come, too, Georgiana dear?" Jeannette, furrily clad for a walkwith James Stuart, stood in the doorway looking back. "Please do. "

"Come, George;--you need a good tramp, " Stuart urged at Jeannette'selbow. 

He looked the picture of anticipation. He had undertaken getting thevisitor into training by increasingly long daily walks, and the resultwas proving eminently satisfactory. At the end of the first half of thevisit Jeannette was looking wonderfully well and happy--hardly the samegirl who had come to the little village to try if she could endure suchlife as was likely to be offered her there. 

"Thank you, my dears, nothing could persuade me. Run along and leave meto diversions of my own, " answered Georgiana gayly. 

So they had gone, Jeannette wafting back a kiss, Stuart waving anenthusiastic arm. Georgiana had smiled at them, had closed the doorsoftly behind them--and had immediately banged to another convenientlynear at hand, one opening into a small clothespress under the stairlanding. 

"Diversions of my own!" she repeated with emphasis. "Happy phrase! Iwonder what they think my diversions are--with this family to lookafter. Well, you got yourself into it, George Warne. You can stick itout if it kills you. "

She deliberately thumped one door after another all the way along herprogress through the empty rooms and up the stairs to the second floor. Her father was away for the afternoon on a rare visit to a neighbour whohad sent for him, an old parishioner, who, falling ill, longed for thegentle offices of his friend and long-time minister. As for Mr. Jefferson, this was the time of day when he was always away on his usuallong walk. It was a comfort to be alone in the quiet house--and tobang and thump. 

In her room Georgiana arrayed herself in a heavy red sweater, thenascended to the attic and stood eying the great hand loom of antiquepattern, a relic of an earlier century. It was equipped with a blackwarp, upon which a few rows of parti-coloured woof had been woven. 

"Diversions!" she repeated, and shook her round fist at the lumberingobject. 

Then she sat down on the old weaver's bench and began to weave withheavy, jarring thuds which shook the floor, as with strong arms shepulled and pushed and sent her clumsy shuttle flying back and forth. The attic was very cold; but she was soon warm with the violent exerciseand presently had discarded the sweater and was working away with mightand main. 

"Go at it--go at it!" she was saying to herself. "Jealous idiot that youare! Jealous of Jeannette, of her clothes, her money, her beauty, her powerto attract--jealous because Jimps likes her so well--because Father Davylooks at her with the eyes of an appreciative uncle--because Mr. E. C. Jefferson talks to her as if he enjoyed it. Pound--pound--pound away atthe old loom till your arms ache, and see if you can get the nonsenseout of you!"

"I beg your pardon, " said a deep voice at the top of the narrow stairsnot far away. 

The loom stopped with a jerk as the weaver flashed round upon the headand shoulders protruding above the rafters. "Oh! I'm sorry! Did Idisturb you?" cried Georgiana, fire in her voice. She did not look inthe least sorry. "I thought you were out, too. And I'm just over yourhead. Of course you came up to----"

"No, I didn't, " replied Mr. Jefferson. He ascended two steps more, looking curiously at the loom "I came up because I thought somethingextraordinary had happened up here and I ought to find out about it. "

"Nothing extraordinary, merely something very ordinary. I do thiswhenever I have time and the coast is clear. You usually go out at thishour, " she said accusingly. 

"So I do. I came back just now, when I saw Miss Crofton and Mr. Stuartstarting off alone, in hopes that you might consent to go with me. It'sa great day. Won't you?"

"Thank you, no, " the girl replied. "I'm behind with my work. These rugsare orders very much overdue. I've been rather delayed lately, since mymachine is so noisy I can't work when anybody is on the second floor. "

"Please never mind me, " urged her visitor. "I can time my work to fit inwith yours, if you need to make haste. But that must be a ratherstrenuous business. It's a very old affair, isn't it? Do you mind if Ilook at it? I never saw one of just that pattern. "

"I mind very much, " replied Georgiana crisply, moving off the bench andstanding on the floor. "But that's no reason why you shouldn't examinethe Monster if you like. That's what I call it. I'll run down and beback when you are through. "

And this she would have done, but that he barred her way. 

"But I won't, " he said gravely, "if you prefer that I should not. Comeback, please! I'm intruding, and I'll apologize and go. "

The light from a dusty attic window fell full on her face as she stood, and he saw that in it which made him look again. 

"Miss Warne, " he said gently, "something is wrong, I'm afraid. Can't Ibe of use to you in some way? The reason I wanted to look at this loomwas that I saw your last two strokes with the bar as I came up, and Irecognized what a tremendous push you had to give. I'm something of amechanic and I wondered if I couldn't do a bit of oiling, perhaps, tomake it easier. I'm afraid it's tiring you unduly. "

"I need to be tired, " she said, low but vehemently. "I'm in a blackmood, and the more I tire myself the quicker I shall get the better ofit. Now you know. I suppose you never have black moods. "

"Do I not? So black that I could grind myself under my own heel. Do youhave them, too? I might have known by the look of you. "

"You don't look as if you ever had them, " she said rather curiously, hereyes on his quiet face. 

"Ah, you can't always tell--luckily. It's pretty cold up here. Are yousure you wouldn't do better to take a run in the wind with me? You knowsomehow heavy tasks look lighter after a breath of outdoor air. "

"So you know what heavy tasks are?" For the life of her she could notresist the question. 

He looked steadily back at her, smiling a little. His eyes were veryclear in their quiet scrutiny. She felt as if he saw much that she wouldprefer to conceal. "I have known a few that seemed to me fairly heavy atthe time, " he said. "Afterward, I was thankful to have had them--toprepare me for heavier ones. "

"Oh--but they weren't the same dismal round----"

"Weren't they? Most tasks are. But I never had one quite like this. I amconcerned for you, lest this prove too heavy. Now that I am here--do youreally mind so very much if I look the machine over?"

She permitted it, and she did not run away as she had meant to do. Presently he asked for a screw-driver and a can of oil, and when she hadprocured them he did a number of things to the cumbersome loom, theresult of which, when she attacked it once more, proved that he hadrelieved to a certain extent the hardest of her efforts. 

"But it is still much too severe for any woman, " he said seriously, standing, oil can in hand, a little lock of hair, shaken down by hislabours, straying across his forehead. "Please tell me, and don't thinkme merely curious--is there no way in which you can add to yourresources except this? You have a college training----"

"And no way whatever to make use of it, " she exclaimed with somebitterness. "But I can weave, and I have a feeling for colour and formand can work out effects which find a market. Hand-woven rugs bringtheir price these days. Really, Mr. Jefferson, I am no subject for pityand----"

"You don't want it. Let me assure you that I don't feel a particle. Tobe young and strong and fit for hard work is no cause for pity. But--Ihave reason for persisting in my inquiry. You see, I happen to know ofsome one in need of such training as you undoubtedly have. Would youconsider giving a few hours daily to one who needs a copyist andcritic?"

Georgiana scanned his face with intent, incredulous eyes. Then, "Do youmean yourself?" she questioned. 

"I mean myself. I hesitate to mention that I am the candidate, knowingthat that admission must instantly create a prejudice against me. " Hewas smiling a little. "But I state an actual fact. I have reached apoint in my labours where I need a copyist. Do you think it possiblethat I may secure one without sending away for her?"

"I must suspect you, " she said slowly and with rising colour, "ofmanufacturing a need. It is very, very kind of you, Mr. Jefferson--but Ithink I must continue to weave my rugs. "

"But I am not manufacturing a need, " he insisted. "I declare to you thatI have been on the point of consulting you for some time. If it had notbeen that your days seemed very full with your guest and yourhousewifery, I should have put it to you before now. I am in earnest, Miss Warne. Won't you, as a matter of everyday business, lend me youreyes and your hand--and your critical judgment? If you can't do it whileMiss Crofton is here, may I engage your spare time after she goes?Please don't deny me. " He began to descend the stairs. "I won't stay foran answer, " he said. "Think it over, will you? And please don't refuseuntil you have consulted your father. "

"Why do you ask that?"

"Because I know he will look at it as any man would, withoutunreasonable prejudice against accepting a business proposition simplybecause it happens to come from a temporary member of the household. Ittakes a woman to bother about that. "

With this straight shot he left her, laughing back at her as hedescended in a way that went far toward disarming her, though she wouldnot at once admit it. Instead, she went back to her loom, putting intothe next section of weaving a quite unnecessary amount of force purelyfrom tension of mind over the possibilities opened up by this mostunexpected offer. There was no denying that it was precisely the sort ofthing which she had often longed to do, and for which, she knew, as hehad suggested, she was more than ordinarily well fitted. It wasimpossible, as she had said, not to suspect the lodger of creating awant to fit her need of earning money, yet there could be no doubt ofthe fact that any writer of books who draws upon all manner of collectednotes and reference books for his material must be able to make valuableuse of an assistant in a variety of ways. 

Why should she not take him at his word? Well, she would think of it. And meanwhile--suddenly--the black mood was gone!

CHAPTER X

STUART OBJECTS

That night, after Mr. Jefferson's unexpected proposal that she shouldassist him in his literary work, Georgiana, running out upon an errandin the business part of the village, encountered James Stuart. This hadbeen a not infrequent happening in days past, but since Jeannette'sarrival it had not once occurred. Stuart was much at the house, but notfor a fortnight had Georgiana had ten minutes alone with him. 

That he welcomed the chance as well as she was evident from his firstword: "Great luck! At last I get you to myself for half a wink without asoul around. Where are you going? Wherever it is, you don't go back tothe house till you've given me what I want. "

"And what's that?" queried Georgiana. 

Her tone was cool in spite of herself. She had missed the almost dailywalks and talks with Stuart, glad as she had been to have him do hiseffectual part in helping her entertain her guests. And there had been, as she was obliged to confess to herself, a sense that if he had beenvery anxious not to lose altogether her society he would have managed, in spite of lack of ordinary opportunity, to bring about such meetings. How much she could feel the absence of his companionship she had notdreamed until she had been tried. 

After the friendly village fashion of intimate acquaintance he lightlygrasped her arm in its covering of the scarlet-lined military cape shealways wore on such walks, and turned her from her course toward a sidestreet leading away, instead of toward, the centre she had beenapproaching. She protested, but he was laughingly determined and sheyielded. It was good, undeniably good, to have Jimps by her side again, and hear his voice in his old eagerly devoted tones in her ear. That hewas really overjoyed at coming upon her in a free hour it was impossibleto doubt. 

"My word! George, but you've kept me on short rations lately, " he beganaccusingly. "One would think you had suddenly put me on a diet list. Nothing but sweets, contrary to the usual prohibitions of the medicalmen for the husky male! Do you think I have no appetite for the goodsubstantial food? Parties and drives and candy-pulls, always with thelovely guest, and never an old-time hobnob with my chum! What's thematter with you, George? What have I done?"

"But such sweets! And so soon they will be gone, and nothing for thehungry youth but plain bread and butter. How absurd of you to complain!"

"Bread and butter! Beefsteak and mushrooms, you mean; roast turkey andcranberry sauce! A fellow can live on them. But not on eternal honey andfudge--with my apologies to the lady. "

"I should say so, Jimps. You're outrageous, and you don't mean it. Iwouldn't walk another step with you if you did. "

"She's undoubtedly the sweetest thing on earth, " admitted Stuart. "Thereare times when I think I'd like to ask her to marry me on the spot--ifshe'd have me, which she wouldn't--me, a farmer! She dazzles me, bewitches me, makes me all but lose my head. And then I look at my chum, the girl I've known all my life, and I think--well, sugar is all right, but you can't get on without salt--and pepper--and ginger--and----"

"Jimps!" In spite of herself Georgiana was laughing infectiously, andStuart joined her. "How absolutely ridiculous! I sound like a wholespice box, and nothing but the 'bitey' spices at that. "

"That's what you are, " declared James Stuart contentedly. "And when I'mwith you I have no hankering after sugar. Mustard plasters for me;they're warming. "

They walked on, the spirit of good fellowship keeping step with them. IfGeorgiana had allowed herself to believe that Stuart was completelyabsorbed with the enchantments of the beautiful guest, she nowdiscovered that, quite as he had said, the enchantment was by no meanscomplete and he had not lost appreciation of the old friendship and whatit meant to him. This was good to feel. It was all she wanted. If shehad been guilty of a creeping sense of jealousy as she watched Stuartand Jeannette together, so evidently enjoying each other's society tothe full, it was because it made her suddenly and unpleasantlyunderstand what it would be to her to live her days in this commonplacelittle village without Stuart at her right hand. But here he was, literally at her right hand, and he was making her walk with him, not abeggarly square or two out of her way, but a good three miles around acertain course which once entered upon could not be cut short by anycrossroads. And all the way he was telling her, as he had always done, all manner of intimate things about his affairs, and asking her of hers. 

Before the circuit had been made Georgiana had done that which an hourbefore she would have thought far from her intention, natural as such aprocedure would have been a month ago, before Jeannette came--she hadtold Stuart of Mr. Jefferson's offer. If the truth must be confessed, after suffering the mood which had only lately been dissipated, shecould not resist producing the effect she knew, if Jimps were stillJimps, was bound to be produced. Such is woman!

Quite as she had foreseen, he was aroused on the instant. The generoussharing of Georgiana Warne with other aspirants for her favour had neverbeen one of James Stuart's characteristics, open-hearted though he wasin every other way. He stopped short in the snowy path, regarding hersternly while she smiled in the darkness. This was balm for a heavyheart, indeed, this recognition she had of his disapproval even beforehe jerked out the quick words:

"Great Scott! You don't mean to tell me you'd do it! Spend hours everyday working with E. C. Jefferson? Not a bit of it. Not so you'd noticeit! Tell him to go to thunder!"

"James McKenzie Stuart! What a tone to take! Why on earth should youobject?" Georgiana's tone was rich and sweet and astonished--itcertainly sounded astonished. 

"Because you're my chum, my partner; and I won't have you going intopartnership with any other man--not much!"

"Partnership! Secretaries and stenographers aren't partners----"

"Aren't they, though! The most intimate sort. And a fellow likeJefferson, full of books and literary lore--he'd be breaking off workhalf his time to talk Montaigne and Samuel Johnson and--and BernardShaw with you. And you'd drink it all in with those eyes of yours andmake him think----" Georgiana's uncontrollable laughter halted but didnot stop him. "What's his work, anyhow? Writing a History of Art?"growled Stuart, marching on, with Georgiana beside him bursting intofresh mirth with every step. Her heart was quite light enough now; nodanger that she had lost her friend!

"I've no idea what it is, but it's certainly not that. He seldom speaksof art in any form--except literary art, of course. I've an idea it'sscientific research of some sort. "

"Then why isn't he in a laboratory somewhere, boiling acids? Why isn'the digging in city libraries or hunting scientific stuff over in Vienna?Vienna's the place for him. I wish him there fast enough, " irritablycontinued this asperser of other men's vocations. 

"His research work has undoubtedly been done; he has pile upon pile ofnotebooks and papers on file. His handwriting is a fright; that'sprobably what he wants me for--to make it legible to the printer. "

"Let him send for a typist then; that's what he needs if he writes anillegible fist. You can't typewrite. "

"I could learn, if necessary. I've often wished I could. "

"You could learn! Yes, you could learn to come when E. C. Jeffersonwhistled, I've no doubt! Oh, I beg your pardon, George--you needn't turnaway. Nobody could ever fancy you coming at any man's whistle. I'm justseeing red, that's all, at the thought of your going into a thing likethis, that's bound to throw you two into the closest sort of relations. "

"That's all nonsense, Jimps. You're behaving like a little boy. And youknow I can't afford to lose a chance like this. You know how slow therug-weaving is----"

"You don't mean you're still at that?"

"Of course I am. The prices are very good now, and I'm----"

"Then you certainly can't lose them to go into copying manuscript byhand. Stick to the weaving; that's my advice. "

"Mr. Jefferson saw the loom to-day. He thinks it too hard work for me, "suggested Georgiana slyly. 

This was a telling shot, for Stuart had often expressed himself insimilar fashion in the past. As was to have been expected, her companionbecame instantly more nettled than ever. 

"Oh, he does, does he?" he said hotly. "I'd like to know what affair itis of his. You know well enough I've protested scores of times againstthat weaving----"

"And now you tell me to stick to it!"

He wheeled upon her. His tone changed: "George, I know I'm absolutelyunreasonable. Of course I don't want you pulling that back-breakingthing. I don't want you to have to hustle for money any sort of way;that's the truth. What I do want is--to keep you away from every otherearthly beggar but myself!"

"O James Stuart, how absurd! That's not a brotherly attitude at all. "

"The role of brother isn't always entirely satisfying, " retorted Stuartunder his breath. "You know well enough you've only to say the word andI----"

"Jimps dear"--Georgiana's voice was very gentle now--"remember we'veleft all that boy-and-girl sentimentalizing behind. It was quite settledlong ago that you and I were to be brother and sister, 'world withoutend. ' And I know you mean it as brotherly, all this fuss about my takinga bit of perfectly reasonable employment for just a little while. "

"Little while? Do you know how long he expects to be at work on thatconfounded book?"

"No; do you?"

"He told me one night when we were smoking together that he had givenhimself a year to do this work in. He came in January; this is April. Do you wonder I'm a bit upset at the notion of my best friend's goinginto harness with him for a year?" Stuart's tone was grim. 

Georgiana, now in wild spirits with the relief from her fears, and thesuddenly opening prospect of a long period of such work as she dearlyloved, had some ado to keep her state of mind from showing. "It doesn'tfollow, " she said, outwardly sober, "that he intends to spend that wholeyear here. "

"He will--if he gets you for a side partner. A man would be a fool notto. "

"That's a great tribute--from a brother, " admitted Georgiana, smiling toherself. "But as far as our lodger is concerned, you need have no fearof any but the most businesslike relations, even though I worked besidehim--as is quite improbable--for a year. He's not that sort. "

"Not what sort? Don't you fool yourself. He's human, if his mind is benton writing a book. And you are--Georgiana!"

"Jimps, there's a path in your brain that's getting worn too deepto-night. Come--let's hurry home. Jeannette will wonder what's become ofme. "

"Let her wonder. George, are you going to do this thing?"

"Of course I am. "

"No matter how I feel about it?"

"Why, Jimps--really, do you think you have any right----"

"Georgiana, I--love you!"

"No, Jimps, you don't. Not so much as all that. You have a brotherlyaffection----"

"Brotherly affection doesn't hurt; this does, " was Stuart's declaration. 

"No, it doesn't, my dear boy. You're just made with a queer sort ofjealous element in your composition, and when something happens to callit out you think it's--something quite different, " explained Georgianarather lamely. "You know perfectly that you and I fit best as goodfriends; we should be awfully unhappy tied up together in any way. Why, we settled that long ago, as I reminded you just now. "

"It seems to have come unsettled, " Stuart muttered. 

"Then we must settle it again. Truly--you mean everything to me as abrother, friend, chum--whichever you like, and I--well, I should feelpretty badly to lose you. But----"

"I wish you'd leave it there. I don't fancy what you're going on tosay. "

"Then I'll not say it. Come, Jimps, give me your hand on the oldcompact. "

"I will--on exactly one condition. " Stuart stood still and faced her ina certain secluded spot just where the snowy path was on the point ofturning into a wider, well-used thoroughfare. 

"What is it? Make it a fair one. "

"It is fair--the fairest between a man and a woman. It's this: leave the'never-never' clause out. I'll agree to any terms of friendship youinsist on if--well, just leave me a chance, will you--dear?"

There was a brief silence while Georgiana considered. She had notexpected this, certainly not just now, when her long-time friend franklyadmitted the drawing power of the winsome visitor. As she had implied, there had been between them, in the days of dawning maturity while theywere yet in school together, certain youthfully tender vows which theyhad later exchanged for the more carefully considered terms of the warmbut less sentimental friendship which had now existed for some years. That Stuart was really dearer to her, more a necessary part of her lifethan she had realized, had been made disconcertingly clear to her by thetotally unexpected pangs she had suffered during the last fortnight, when it had seemed to her that she was likely to lose the fine fervor ofhis devotion. Now, however, that she was assured of his intense loyalty, she was the old Georgiana again, ready to stand beside her friend to thelast ditch, if need be, but wholly unwilling to bind herself to hischariot wheels while no ditches threatened. 

"'Never' is a big word, " she said finally. "It isn't best to say 'never'about anything in this life. "

"Then you won't ask me to say it?" His voice was eager. 

"Not if you don't want to, Jimps. "

"I don't. There was never anything surer than that. Give me yourhand--chum. "

She gave it. "All right--chum. "

He had pulled off his own glove; he now gently drew off hers, and thetwo warm hands clasped. "Here's our everlasting friendship, " he said, with a little thrill in his low voice. "Nothing shall come between usexcept--love. "

"Jimps! That's not the old compact at all. "

"It's the new one then. Isn't it sufficiently ambiguous to suit you?"

"It's much too ambiguous. "

"I can make it plainer----"

"Perhaps you'd better leave it as it is, " she admitted, recognizingdanger. 

"As you say. "

He held her hand for a minute in such a close grasp that it hurt her, but she did not wince. Ah! if she might just have this pleasantlysatisfying relation with the man whose presence in her life meant warmthand light and even happiness on the hard road of everyday routine, andthen have somehow besides the contentment which comes of accomplishmentalong a line of chosen activity--and still remain free for whatever Godin heaven might send her of real joy, she could ask no better. 

"Jimps, I'm perfectly contented, " she said radiantly, as they walked on. 

"That's good. I wish I were. "

"What would make you?"

"Your promise to earn your money making rugs--with me to help you. "

"But you couldn't!"

"I could learn. "

"Oh, how absurd! You haven't time, if there were no other reason. "

He did not answer, and, since they were now back in the village andnearing the object of Georgiana's errand, no more was said until theywere once again on their way homeward. They walked in silence until theyreached the very doorstep of the manse. Then Stuart made one moreprotest. 

"Not even to please me, George?" he asked, as she stood on the stepabove him, leading the way in to Jeannette and the warm fireside. 

"Jimps, I'm sorry you feel that way about it. But I've talked withFather Davy and he agrees that it's a godsend. There's no reason in theworld I could give Mr. Jefferson for refusing to help him when he needsit, and when I need it, too. Therefore--I'm sorry, Jimps, since you areso strange as to care--but I've made up my mind. "

"You'll excuse me if I don't come in to-night, " he said, and turnedaway. 

She stood looking comprehendingly after him as he left her, then ran inand closed the door. The mood which held her now was so far from beingblack that it was rosy red. 

CHAPTER XI

BORROWED PLUMES

"Uncle David, I was never so sorry to come to the end of any visit as Iam this one, " said Jeannette Crofton. She was holding Mr. Warne's frailhand in both her own, and looking straight into the young gray-blue eyeswhich looked affectionately back at her. She was dressed for herdeparture, and the great closed town car which had brought her waswaiting at the door. 

Near her stood Georgiana and James McKenzie Stuart. Mr. E. C. Jeffersonhad just appeared in the background, come to bid the guest farewell. 

"You have given us much pleasure, my dear, " responded Mr. Warne, "and ifyou have received it as well, the balance is pretty evenly struck. "

"I might have stayed two days longer, " declared Jeannette with evidentlonging, "if it hadn't been for that sister of mine. I'm sure she couldhave had a birthday dance without me--but no! How I wish I were takingyou all with me--even you, Mr. Jefferson, " she added with one of heradorable smiles, as she turned to him; "you, whom I can't possiblyimagine caring to dance a step, not even with the prettiest girl I couldfind for you. "

"You almost make me wish I knew how to dance a step, " said Mr. Jefferson, advancing to take her hand. "As it is, I can at least wishthat prettiest girl a partner worthy of her grace. "

"While I am wishing, " exclaimed Jeannette with characteristicimpulsiveness, "why in the world don't I bring about my own wishes? Oh, where have my wits been! Georgiana, darling, run and dress and go withme! I'll send you back to-morrow in the car. And you, too, Mr. Stuart!Oh, come, both of you, and dance at Rosalie's birthday fête to-night!Please--please do!" She turned to Mr. Warne. "Mayn't she, Uncle David?Couldn't you manage to spare her just for twenty-four hours?"

They looked at one another, smiling, hardly believing that the gaysuggestion was a serious one. 

But by Jeannette, accustomed to having her own way once a way hadoccurred to her, all objections were thrust aside. "Oh, but you mustcome!" she cried. "I'll not take no!"

"Come and talk it over a minute with me, crazy child, " bade Georgiana;and she drew her cousin out of the room, where she could state the greatdifficulty which, being a woman, had instantly assailed her. "Jean, Ihate to quash such a glorious idea, but--I shall have to befrank--clothes!"

"With loads of frocks hanging in my wardrobe at home? And half of themtoo trying for me to wear at all, while they would suit you perfectly. Nonsense! Oh, hurry and make ready. James Stuart will go if you will; Isaw it in his eyes. "

It could not be refused, this tempting invitation, with such a lovelytyrant to enforce her will. One word, however, did James Stuart andGeorgiana Warne exchange in a corner before they capitulated. 

"George, my evening togs--they've been put away for the four years sinceI left college. They must be about the most hopelessly ancient cutconceivable to eyes like hers. Shall I risk looking like a rustic insuch a house as that?" But Stuart's eyes were eager as a boy's. 

"I'll not go if you won't, Jimps. As for rusticity, I can keep youcompany. Can you bear to lose such a frolic? I can't. "

"Neither can I, hang it! All right, I'll be a sport if you will, " agreedStuart with a laugh, and rushed away to pack a bag in short order, allthe zest of irrepressible youth, in one who had been forced bycircumstance to foreswear most of the joys of youth for stern labour, coming uppermost to bid him make merry once more at any cost of afterfall of spirits. 

"Thank goodness I've had the sense always to keep the latest ofJeannette's 'Semi-Annual' tailored suits pressed and trim, " thoughtGeorgiana as she dressed. "This is a year behind the extreme style, butI know perfectly well I look absolutely all right in it, and my hat, having once been hers, is mighty becoming and smart, if it is amake-over. It's lucky I can do those things; that's one benefit of goingto college, anyhow. "

A few other "make-overs" in the way of dress accessories, all ofexquisite material, on account of their source, and daintily preservedbecause of their frailty after having served two owners, went into hertraveling bag. For the dance itself, since there was no other way, shewas not loath to accept Jeannette's generous offer, and, being a veryhuman creature, could not help looking forward with delight to theprospect of finding herself arrayed in such apparel as wouldsuccessfully sustain any scrutiny which might be brought to bear uponthe country cousin. As for Stuart, she had no fears for him, for hisyears of college life had made him an acceptable figure upon anyoccasion, and she was confident his broad shoulders and fine carriagecould atone for any slightly antique cut of lapel or coat-tail. 

Altogether, it was a very happy young person who embraced Mr. DavidWarne, shook hands with Mr. Jefferson, and ran down the path to thegreat car in the wake of Jeannette, and followed by James Stuart lookingextremely personable. Well-cut clothes were the one extravagance Stuartallowed himself now that he was immured for at least the early half ofhis life, as he expected, upon the farm of his inheritance. 

"Well, well, I'm glad to have my little girl run away for a few hours, "said Father Davy, from the window where, with Mr. Jefferson at hisshoulder, he stood watching for the final wave of Georgiana's hand. "Shehas enjoyed her cousin's visit, but it has meant considerable extralabour for her. This seems a fitting return for Jeannette to make. "

"One can hardly blame Miss Crofton for wanting to prolong her enjoymentof your daughter's society, " observed Mr. Jefferson, his eyes watchingclosely the laughing faces behind the glass as the travelers settledthemselves. "I can imagine one's feeling a very decided emptiness in aplace which she had left. "

"There, they're off!" announced Mr. Warne, waving his slender arm witheagerness, his delicate features alight with pleasure in this unexpectedhappening. "Emptiness, you say, Jefferson?" he added as the two turnedaway, with the car out of sight down the snowy road. "That quiteexpresses it. Even for a few hours I am conscious of a distinct sense ofloneliness without Georgiana. Her personality is one which makes itselffelt; it has individuality, audacity; even--I think--that curiousquality which for want of a better name we call 'charm. ' Am I tooprejudiced?"

He placed himself upon his couch, plainly very weary with the flurry ofthe last hour. He lay looking up at Mr. Jefferson, who had lingered alittle before going back to the work which loudly called to him. It wasquite possible for the younger man to comprehend how desolate was thegentle invalid's feeling at being left, if only for a day and a night, in the care of the friendly neighbour who was to minister to his needsand who was already to be heard bustling about the dining-room, layingthe table for the coming meal. 

"You may be prejudiced, " admitted his companion, "but it is a prejudicewhich can be readily forgiven--and even shared, " he added, smiling. 

"Her cousin, " pursued Mr. Warne slowly, "would outshine her in beautyand in sweetness of disposition, perhaps, though I doubt if Jeannettehas ever had a fraction of the tests of character and endurance my girlhas had. "

"She surely never has, " agreed the other. "And as for mere sweetness ofdisposition, there are other qualities which make their own appeal. "

A whimsical smile appeared upon the pale face resting against one ofGeorgiana's crimson couch pillows. "How she would make me signals ofdistress and warning, " he mused, "if she could hear me carrying on anantiphonal service in her praise with our lodger, who, she wouldconsider, knows her not at all. Well, well----

 "'Man, she is mine own, And I as rich in having such a jewel, As twenty seas, if all their sand were pearl, The water nectar, and the rocks pure gold. '

You'll forgive an old man's romanticism, Mr. Jefferson, I hope?"

"You are one of the youngest men I know. And if you may quoteShakespeare to your purpose, I may quote good old Doctor Holmes, " saidMr. Jefferson, drawing the pillow into an easier position as he spoke:

 "'He doth not lack an almanac Whose youth is in his soul. '"

To Georgiana Warne, a year out of college, and during that year havingsorely missed the many gayeties of the life she had known for four happyyears, the present experience was delightful. She enjoyed every minuteof the swift drive over the sixty miles to her cousin's home, enjoyedthe arrival there, the meeting with the family and their house guestsassembled for afternoon tea, the installment in a luxuriously furnishedroom where Jeannette presently brought her an armful of gowns to choosefrom for the evening. A small dinner was to precede the dance, and allsorts of scheming for Georgiana's pleasure had been fermenting inJeannette's brain on the way home. 

"I've arranged with Rosalie to put you next her special prize--the mostwonderful man she knows. All her set are crazy over him, though hebelongs in ours fast enough. It's Miles Channing, just home after ayear's travel, and as good looking as any illustrator ever drew. You seeyou simply must be your most brilliant self. And here's the way to doit--wear this!"

She held up before Georgiana's disconcerted gaze such a marvel of colourand cunning as brought a gasp of astonishment and a quick denial: "Oh, my dear! Not that--for me. It's bad enough to wear your things at all, but don't give me something that will make everybody look at me, likethat!"

"That's precisely what I want, " laughed Jeannette. "And this is a thingI haven't ventured to wear and never shall, though I'm wild to do it. But I couldn't carry it off; you can. Those orange shades will beglorious with your eyes and hair. Besides, as for making you conspicuousabove the rest, on account of any gorgeousness of colour or eccentricityof style, it simply can't be done these days. So put this on and see foryourself. You needn't wear it, of course, if you don't like it; but youwill. "

Reluctantly Georgiana allowed a slim French maid to slip the marvel ofher country's art over the bared shoulders, and the next minute she wasstaring at herself in a long mirror, while Susette clasped her hands, and gay young Rosalie, passing the door at the moment and summoned tothe private view, cried joyously:

"Oh, Georgiana, you're perfectly stunning! Of course you must wear it, and you'll be the star of the evening. "

Rosalie rushed on, having settled the questions out of hand, after themanner of the youthful. Jeannette was laughing as she called her motherin to confirm the decision. 

Mrs. Crofton, languidly interested, surveyed her niece with approval. She was an impressive lady, was Aunt Olivia, and was accustomed to haveher opinion carry weight. "It suits you, my dear, " was her verdict. "Those who can wear such daring effects should do it, for every sceneneeds points of light and intensity. "

"And these other frocks, " Jeannette declared, pointing to them whereSusette had spread them out upon the bed, "are just colourless babythings that anybody can wear. "

"They look exquisite to me, " regretted Georgiana, eying them wistfully. 

Somehow, now that she was here, she did not so much enjoy the thought ofappearing in borrowed finery, and, since it must be done, would havepreferred the simplest white frock in Jeannette's wardrobe. But this wasnot to be without displeasing her hostesses, and she reluctantlysubmitted. Susette begged leave to arrange her hair, Jeannette huntedout silk stockings and slippers to match the frock, and Rosaliecontributed the long white gloves which completed the costuming. 

When Georgiana was ready to descend she took one last look at the girlin the long mirror, and turned to Jeannette, herself a picture in thedelicate colourings which she affected and which set off her goldenbeauty. "I feel like the old woman in the nursery song, " she said, "doubtful of my identity. "

"But you must admit you're simply glorious, " cried Jeannette. "I knewyou were a beauty, but I didn't know you were such a raving one asthis. "

"I'm no beauty, " denied Georgiana with spirit. "It's just the clothes. But you--I never saw anything so enchanting as you to-night. "

"Delightful! I'm so glad, for--there's somebody I want to enchant. Comeon, " and Jeannette led the way. 

At the foot of the great staircase, about a wide fireplace, Georgianasaw James Stuart with a group of other young men, and noted swiftly thatthere was no too-striking contrast to be noted between her friend andhis faultlessly attired companions, except that his face and hands worea deeper coat of winter tan than theirs, and he looked stronger and morevirile than any of them. And even in his outdoor colouring, there wasamong them one who rivalled him, the one who, as Georgiana instantlyguessed, was the lately arrived traveler. A moment later she metStuart's eyes and saw his look of astonishment as he gazed at her. 

Presently, when those whom she had not already met had been made knownto her, she found Stuart at her elbow. "Am I dreaming?" said his voicein her ear, "or is this my chum? I'm almost afraid to speak to you!"

"You look awfully nice, Jimps, " she returned under her breath. "Yes, isn't it absurd for me to be peacocking like this? But they made me doit. "

"You take my breath away. "

"Look at Jean, " she whispered. "Isn't she the loveliest thing you eversaw in your life?"

He looked. "You and she are a pair, " he admitted. 

Jeannette came up to them with the tall traveler, and Georgiana foundherself looking up into a pair of dark eyes whose glance told her thattheir owner found her worth studying intently. Miles Channing was of thesort who waste no time in preliminaries. By the time she had sat outhalf the dinner by his side she felt as if she had been under fire forhours. All her youth and wit responded to his sallies, and she enjoyedthe encounter as keenly as a girl might be expected to do, who for ayear had seen no men but the slow village swains--always excepting JamesStuart, who was her one reliance in time of famine. 

Channing made no attempt to disguise his preoccupation with the mostattractive of the few strangers in the set of young people whom he hadknown for years. Between the dinner and the dance, Jeannette, who hadbeen observing without seeming to observe, dropped a word in Georgiana'sear:

"You've done it, dear. I never saw him lose his head so completely. You'll have to be careful or you'll have all the girls down on you. They're crazy over him, you know--including Rosalie. "

"Absurd! I shall never see him again, so what does it matter?" retortedGeorgiana. 

"Don't be too sure of that. Nothing can stop him when he's interested. And you know you are a witch to-night; anybody would be caught in yoursnare. I didn't know you were such a clever thing at the game, though Imight have guessed it. "

"If I weren't, I might take lessons of you, " Georgiana gave back. "Youhave Jimps slightly delirious, I can see. Is he the one you wanted toenchant? I'm sure you've done it. "

"Isn't he splendid? He looks so much stronger and more interesting thanhalf these boys I've known all my life. I do want him to have a goodtime. "

"He's having it. "

Georgiana was sure of this, but she was having so good a time herselfshe didn't mind. More than once she had caught Stuart's eyes across thetable, and had noted how they were sparkling. The glance the twoexchanged might have been interpreted to mean: "Fun, isn't it? You playup to your opportunities and so will I. This won't happen again in ourlives, perhaps. "

Presently the dancing began, in great rooms cleared for the purpose anddecorated with every art of the florist. The music was all of a qualitymore perfect than any Georgiana had ever heard, and the strains whichassailed her ears made her wild to dance to every note. She was besiegedby invitations. 

"But I haven't danced for more than a year, and I don't know one of thelatest steps, " she said regretfully. 

"We'll soon remedy that, " promised Chester Crofton, her cousin, whocarried her off into an unoccupied room, where the music could yet beheard, and proceeded to teach her. She was easily taught, having all thefoundations after four years of practice among college girls, and shewas soon able to go upon the floor with young Crofton and the rest. 

Miles Channing did not dance, but after watching for a time--whileGeorgiana was acutely conscious that his eyes constantly followedher--he claimed and bore her off before others could prevent. In apalm-shadowed corner well removed from observation he drew a long breathof content and settled down beside her. 

"I hope you will not be too much bored at missing a round or two, " hebegan in the slightly drawling speech which was somehow one of hischarms, it was so curiously accompanied by his intent observation. "Ihaven't danced for so long I can't venture to attempt it, especiallywith you. "

"I should be the most patient of partners, I'm so unaccomplishedmyself, " declared Georgiana. 

"Nevertheless I shouldn't want to try you. You dance like a sylph, Ilike an elephant. "

"I don't believe it. "

"You do grudge sitting out, then, do you?" he asked. 

"Not a bit. "

"It wouldn't really matter if you did, for I intend to hold my advantagenow I have it. I care more to talk with you than for all the dances onthe program. And the time is so short I must make the most of it. You goback to-morrow, I understand?"

"Yes, indeed. "

"And you'll not be here soon again?"

"I don't expect to. I'm a very busy person at home and can seldom bespared. "

"That means that whoever wants to know you must come to your home?"

Georgiana felt her pulse beats quickening. This was certainly losing notime. She assented to the interrogation, explaining that her father wasan invalid and she was his housekeeper. She felt no temptation torepresent things to Mr. Channing as other than they were. It was somehowan atonement for appearing in her borrowed attire that she should notallow appearances to deceive this new acquaintance into thinking herhome the counterpart of her cousin's. The news did not appear in theleast to disconcert him. 

"I should like very much to meet your father, " Channing said; andGeorgiana liked him for taking the trouble to put it in that way. Heinstantly added: "And I should like still more to see you in your ownhome. May I have that pleasure?"

"We shall be very glad to see you, " she promised, careful of her manner. 

"No matter how soon I come?"

"I suppose you will allow me to reach home first?" she questioned gayly. 

"Barely. This is Wednesday night. You go home to-morrow--Thursday. May Icome Saturday?"

"You have been living on railway schedules so long you have acquired thehabit, " she gave back with slightly heightened colour. In the course ofher experience she had seen more than one young man change his plansafter encountering her, but she had never known one to form new ones asquickly as this. 

"I have discovered that when one wants to reach a place very much, hecan't start too soon, " he said very low, with such obvious meaning thatshe had some difficulty in keeping her cool composure. It was not onlyhis words, but his looks and manner which spoke. She had never dreamedthat outside of stories men ever really did begin to fire on sight, likethis. 

The matter settled, Channing began to talk of other things, but throughall his speech and acts ran the visible thread of his instant andpowerful attraction to her, so that she was conscious of the colour ofit. By the time two dances had gone by and she was sought and found byan eager claimant, the girl was quite ready to get away from this newand decidedly disturbing experience. And when, a little later, sheallowed James Stuart to try one of the new steps with her, she had acomfortable sense of having got back upon known and solid ground, afterhaving been swimming in a too-swift current. 

CHAPTER XII

EARLY MORNING

"You've no idea, Jimpsy, " Georgiana said, when she and James Stuart hadassured themselves that they were able to suit their steps to each otherand were moving smoothly down the floor, "how glad I am to be with someone I know, for a bit. "

"Only some one? Not particularly me?"

"Yes, particularly you. My brain needs a little rest. "

"There's a compliment for an old friend! But I didn't suppose dancingtired the brain. It's my feet that have bothered me. I've walked allover Jeannette's little toes, but she's perfectly game and won't admitit. "

"I thought you and she were getting on beautifully together. "

"So we were. I couldn't see how you and Channing got on together, because you went off and hid somewhere. That's not fair with a perfectlynew acquaintance. "

"Didn't you and Jeannette go off and hide somewhere?"

"We're not new acquaintances. "

"Oh, indeed! How old ones are you?"

"A month is a long time compared with one short evening. I never knew, George, you were such a terrific charmer. You've had them all nailedto-night; and as for Channing--well---- Only I suppose he's a shark atthe game himself. He shows it. Better look out. "

"What an excellent opportunity a dance is for old friends to give eachother good advice. " Georgiana smiled up into his eyes. 

He closed his own for an instant. "Don't do that; it dazzles me. "

"Nonsense. You're learning the game yourself. Jeannette's been teachingyou. We're all finding each other out to-night. I had no idea she couldsparkle so. "

"You're the sparkler. She simply glows with a steady light. "

"Well, I like that!"

"You like everything to-night. You remind me of a peach--on fire. "

"Jimps!" Georgiana's soft laughter assailed his ear. "I believe we'reboth a bit crazy with this sudden leap into dissipation--suchdissipation! Just remember where we'll be to-morrow night. "

"I don't want to--except that I'll be with you. We'll talk it all overby your fire, eh?"

"Of course. There'll be that much left, anyhow. Is this over? Thank you, Jimps, for the best dance I've had to-night. "

"No use trying it on me, " he murmured as he released her. "What's theuse of capturing what you've already got?"

By and by it was all over and Georgiana was mounting the stairs withJeannette, smiling back at certain faces in the disordered spaces below, where flowers lay about the floors and a group of young fellows, belonging to Rosalie's house party, were making merry before they brokeranks. 

In Jeannette's room by a blazing fire the girls held brief session, sitting with unbound hair and swinging slippered feet, and cheeks stillflushed with the night's gayety. 

"Jimps and I were imagining ourselves sitting by the fire in our oldliving-room to-morrow night, " said Georgiana softly, staring into theflame with eyes which reflected little points of light. "It will seemlike a dream then, but we shall talk it all over, and remember what funwe had, and how lovely everybody was to us--and how beautiful you werein that blue-and-silver frock. "

"You dear thing, you ought to have such times often and often!" criedJeannette. "But--O Georgiana, you have times I envy you! While you aredreaming of our flowers and music I shall be dreaming of the dear oldhouse, and the jolly evenings you gave me there, and envying you--oh, envying you----"

"Envying me! Are you crazy, child, or are you just----"

"Just speaking the truth. You can't think how many times I shall thinkof you sitting there with your three splendid men----"

"Jean! What are you talking about?"

"About Uncle David, and Jimps, and Mr. Jefferson----"

"But they're not mine, " protested Georgiana, laughing. "Except FatherDavy. "

"Not--Jimps?"

"Oh, of course he's my friend, my very good friend. And Mr. Jefferson'sonly a 'boarder, '"--she made a little grimace at the word. "You speak asif I had them all about me all the time. "

"But you do evenings, don't you?"

"They were there much more while you were visiting me than they will benow. Jimps has heaps of arrears to make up; he let lots of work go whileyou were there, you must know, my dear. As for Mr. Jefferson--he maynever come down any more, now that Jimps won't be going up to beg him tomake a fourth for your entertainment. So don't imagine me holding courtwith those three retainers. It will mostly be just Father Davy and Iwith a volume of Dumas or Kipling. Isn't it odd how my pale littlefather loves the red blood of literature?"

"Just the same----" but Jeannette did not finish that. She began afresh:"And oh! how I shall miss you, George--as Jimps calls you. Somehow Imust have you before long for a real visit here, or wherever I may befor the summer. "

"Thank you, Jean; but I can never get away. "

"I'll arrange it somehow. That makes me think--Miles Channing wasdreadfully disappointed that you were going in the morning. I've nodoubt he will manage to see you off somehow. I think it's too bad of youto insist on going before luncheon. Think how little sleep you'll have. "

She gave Georgiana a penetrating look as she said it, but saw only apair of beautiful bare arms thrown up over a mass of dark locks, as hercousin, with a clever imitation of a half-smothered yawn, answeredmerrily: "Then we must go to bed this minute or I shall never havestrength of mind to get up. And I can't leave Father Davy to the tendermercies of Mrs. Perkins longer than I can help. She'll give himeverything that is bad for him, in spite of the best intentions. "

It was a wide-awake Georgiana, nevertheless, who, fully dressed for thedrive, leaned over Jeannette's bed at ten o'clock that morning andkissed a warm velvet cheek, murmuring: "Don't wake up, Jean. We're justoff after breakfast. I'll write soon. You've been a perfect darling, andI'm more grateful than I can tell you. "

"Oh, I'm dead to the world, I'm so tired!" moaned the girl in the bed. "I always have to pay up so for dancing all night. But you, "--she liftedlanguid eyelids to see her cousin's smiling freshness of face and air ofvigour--"why, you look as though you had had twelve hours' sleep--and acold plunge!"

"I've had the cold plunge, " admitted Georgiana, laughing. "And I'm 'fitas a fiddle, ' as Jimps says. He sent his good-bye to you and told me totell you he'll never forget you--never!"

"Tell him I'll not let him forget me--or you, either. Oh, how I hate tohave you go, both of you!"

Through a silent, sleeping house Georgiana and Stuart stole, the onlymember of the family up to see them off being Mr. Thomas Croftonhimself, the oldest person under the great rooftree. 

"My dear, you must come again, you must come often, " he urged, holdingGeorgiana's hand and patting it with a paternal air. He was a handsomeman in the early sixties, with graying hair and tired eyes. "You havedone a great deal for our Jean; she looks much stronger than when shewent to your home. But neither she nor Rosalie can enter the race withyou for splendid health. That comes from your country life, I suppose. I envy you, I envy you, my dear. "

"Come and see us, Uncle Thomas--do. Father Davy would be so happy; youknow he's such an invalid. But his mind and heart are as young as ever. "

"I will come; I will drive down some day, thank you, Georgiana. I shouldlike to see David again. Mr. Stuart, come again, come again. Good-bye;sorry your aunt was too much done up to see you off this morning, mydear. Good-bye. "

As the two emerged from the door a tall figure sprang up the steps. "What luck! I was passing and I suspected you were just getting off. Good morning! Can you possibly be the girl I saw dancing seven hoursago?"

"I don't wonder you ask, Mr. Channing, " laughed Georgiana. "Eveningfrocks and traveling clothes are quite different affairs. "

"Ah, but the traveling clothes are even the nicer of the two, when theirwearer looks----" Channing glanced at Stuart standing by. "Confound you, sir!" said he, with a genial grin, shaking hands. "Since you're going todrive all the way home with Miss Warne can't you give me the chance tosay something pleasant to her?"

"You can't make it too strong to suit me, " observed Stuart--and remainedwithin hearing. 

"Saturday, then, if I may, " said Channing, looking as far intoGeorgiana's eyes as he could see, which was not very far. She wore aclose little veil, which interfered with her eyelashes, and clearly shecould not lift her glance very high. 

Then they were off, with Channing waving farewell, his hat high in air. A hand at another window also waved, and Georgiana knew Jeannette hadseen this last encounter. 

"Well, for sixteen hours' work, " remarked James Stuart grimly, as thecar gathered headway and the house was left behind, "I should say youhad done some fairly deadly execution. Saturday, eh? Why does he delayso long? Isn't to-morrow Friday--and a day sooner?"

CHAPTER XIII

A COPYIST

The old study of David Warne was a square, austerely furnished room onthe second floor of the manse, opposite the sleeping-room now occupiedby Mr. Jefferson. It contained several plain bookcases, filled mostlywith worn old volumes in dingy yellow calf or faded cloth. An ancienttable served for a desk, with a splint-bottomed chair before it. On thewalls hung several portrait engravings, that of Abraham Lincolnoccupying the post of honour among them. The floor was covered with arag carpet of pleasantly dimmed colours, and an old Franklin stove, withwidely opening doors and a hearth with a brass rail, completed thefurnishing of the room. 

This was the place now swept and dusted and warmed for the joint laboursof the writer of books and his new assistant. Mr. Jefferson had movedthe materials of his craft to the new working quarters: he had broughtup wood for the fire and had made that fire himself, according to thecustom he had inaugurated soon after his arrival. The day and hour forthe beginning of that which James Stuart insisted on designating as apartnership had arrived. At ten o'clock that April morning, whenGeorgiana's housework should have reached a stage when she could safelyleave it for a more or less extended period, the study door was to closeupon the two and shut them away undisturbed for the first details oftheir affair in common. 

Georgiana had been up since before daybreak, planning and executing asystem which should make all this possible. Now, at a quarter beforeten, with all well in hand, she flew to her room for certain personaltouches which should transform her from housewife to secretary. Twominutes before the clock struck she surveyed herself hurriedly in hersmall mirror. 

"You really look very trim and demure, " she remarked to her image. "Yourcolour is a bit high, but that's exercise, not excitement. Still, youare a little excited, you know, my dear, and you must be very carefulnot to show it. It's a calm, cool, business person the gentleman wants, George, not a blushing schoolgirl. It would spoil it at once if youshould look conscious or coquettish. So now--remember. And forget--forthe love of your new occupation--forget that Miles Channing is comingagain to-night--again, after one short week! What does it matter if heis? Run along and be good!"

Half a minute left in which to run downstairs, kiss Father Davy on hiswhite forehead, and receive his warm "Bless you, dear, and bless the newwork. May you be very happy in it!" and to walk quietly upstairs againand knock at the door of the study. It opened under Mr. Jefferson'shand, and to the cheerful sound of snapping wood on the open hearth ofthe old Franklin stove he bade her enter. 

His smile was very pleasant, his steady eyes seemed to take note ofeverything about her in one quick glance, as he said with a wave of hishand: "Welcome to my workshop! You see I've swept up all the chips, butwe'll soon make more. "

"You manage to keep your workshop remarkably free from chips, " shecommented. "You must have a great system of order. "

"Pretty fair. I should be hopelessly lost if I let this mass of materialbecome disordered. Will you take this chair? Must we begin at once ormay we talk a little first?"

"I think we had better begin. You know there are just two free hoursbefore I must be back downstairs, if you are to eat, this noon. "

He laughed and she noted, as she had noted many times before, how younghe looked at such moments, grave as his face could be when in repose. 

"Very well, " he agreed. "I have no doubt you will work at this task asyou do at the loom, with all your might, and I shall have to lengthenmy stride to keep up with you. But that promises well. One is likely tofall into habits of soldiering when one works alone. You have no ideahow carefully I have to keep certain favourite books out of sight when Iwant to accomplish big stretches of work. And in this room--hardluck!--I see so many old treasures that I'm going to have a bit oftrouble in resisting temptation. "

His eyes led hers to the old bookcases. She nodded. "It's a shabby oldcollection, but it's very dear to father's heart. "

"It well may be. Gibbon, Hume, Froude, Parton--Lamb, Johnson, Carlyle--Hugo, Thackeray, Reade, and Trollope--Keats, Shelley, and therest. What matters the binding? Some time I must read you a passage ingood old Christopher North that appeals to me tremendously. No, not now, Miss Warne; I see I must fall upon my task without delay or you will beslipping away on the plea of bad faith on my part. Well----"

He turned his chair toward the table and took up a notebook. His facesettled instantly into an expression of serious interest. 

"I am going to ask you first, " said he, "to copy in order upon a freshsheet each reference which you find marked with a red cross, so that thereferences may be all together. Be very exact, please, and verylegible. German and French words are easily misread by the typist whowill put this work finally into copy for the printer. "

Georgiana, glancing at the first marked reference, found cause to creditthis statement, for it read:

 Cagnetto: Zur Frage der Anat. Beziehung zwischen Akromegalie u. Hypophysistumor, Virchow's Archiv. , 1904, clxxvi. , 115. Neuer Beitrag. F. Studium der Akromegalie mit besonderer Berücksichtigung der Frage nach dem zusammenhang der Akromegalie mit Hypophysenganggeschwulste, Virchow's Archiv. , 1907, lxxxvi. , 197. 

"It would be best to print the words as clearly as I can, wouldn't it?"she suggested, suppressing her desire to laugh. 

"That depends on your handwriting. Try a line and let me see, please. "

When she had shown him a specimen of the peculiarly readable scriptwhich she had cultivated in college, he signified his approval with ahearty "Good! That's a splendid hand for work, the hand of a workman, infact. I congratulate myself. Go ahead with the jaw-breakers, onlyverifying each reference before you leave it. "

Thus the new task began, and thus it continued day after day--not alwaysquite the same, for Georgiana soon recognized that her employer wasdiversifying her labours as much as he consistently could by changingthe nature of the copying. Now and then he refreshed her endurance andrested her tired hand by asking her to read aloud to him several justfinished pages of his own writing, walking the floor meanwhile orsitting tipped back in his chair with closed eyes while he listened withears alert for error of statement or infelicity of phrase, and shewondered at the character of the words she read. 

Of course she discovered at once what was the general subject of thebook. No essay was this, no work of fiction, no "history of art, " asStuart had scornfully suggested. It could be only the sternest ofresearch and experience which dictated such sentences as these:

 The especial dangers to be contended with are that the ethmoid cells may be mistaken for the sphenoids; that we may go too low and enter the pons and medulla; that, laterally, we may enter the cavernous sinus, and above, that we may injure the optic nerve. 

It was all more or less of a puzzle to her, but it was one which hertaskmaster never explained further than the revelations of each dayexplained it. She understood that he was a scientist, that heundoubtedly had been an operator in some surgical field or was puttinginto shape the work of another in that field, but what he now wasbesides a writer of technical books she had no manner of idea. 

"But I really enjoy it, Father Davy, " she insisted, when she came downto him one day with hotly flushed cheeks and shaking hand after aparticularly protracted siege of copying involved and incomprehensiblematerial. "It's monotonous in a way, but it's intensely interesting, too. Mr. Jefferson is so absorbed in it, it's fun to watch him. To-dayhe was as happy as a boy over a letter he had just received from aProfessor Somebody, a great authority in Vienna. It seemed it absolutelyconfirmed some statement he had made in a monograph he wrote last yearwhich had been challenged by several scientists. The way he fell towriting his next paragraph after he had read that letter made oneimagine he was writing it in his own heart's blood. He read it aloud tome. " She laughed appreciatively at the recollection. 

"Could you make anything of it?" inquired Mr. Warne with interest. 

"Not very much. It was about the pituitary body;--oh, I've come to havea great awe of the pituitary body, it seems to be responsible for somany things. He chuckled over it like a boy, and said to me, 'Forgivethese transports, Miss Warne, but this is food and drink to me. I wish Icould explain it to you so that you might rejoice over it with me. Someday I will, when we are not so busy. ' I hope he will. There's enoughthat I do understand to make me interested. "

"I see you are--and rejoice, my Georgiana. Do you remember what MaxMüller says, echoed by many another, '_Work is life to me; and when I amno longer able to work, life will be a heavy burden?_'"

He smiled as he said it, but his daughter read the seldom-expressedlonging in the cheerful voice and laid her cheek for an instant againsthis. "He's quite right. And you have your work, Father Davy, and you'redoing it all the time. I think you preach much more effectively now thanyou did in the pulpit, even when you don't open your mouth. And when youdo open it angels couldn't compete with you!"

They laughed softly together, though Mr. Warne shook his head. "It's acurious thing, " he mused, "that the weaker the body gets the harder doesthe mind have to strive to master it. But, thank God--'_so fight I, notas one that beateth the air_. '"

"'Not as one that beateth the air, '" murmured the girl. "I should saynot, Father Davy. As one that delivereth hard blows on his own body, hispoor, tired body. Oh, if I had one tenth the self-control----"

At which she ran away, as was quite like her, when emotion suddenly gotthe better of her. The darkest cloud on this girl's life was the frailtenure of her father's existence. The rest could be endured. 

The work in the upstairs study went steadily on, in spite of the factthat James Stuart railed and that Miles Channing came at least once inseven days, driving the sixty miles in a long, swiftly speeding carwhich brought him to the door of the manse before the early May sunset, and which took him back when the shadows lay black upon the silent road. Two hours in the morning, three in the afternoon, Georgiana gave to therigid performance of the tasks Mr. Jefferson set her, while outsidebelow the windows at which she worked lay her garden, beloved of heraffection, beseeching her not to neglect it. 

It was hard sometimes not to betray how she longed to be outside, as shewrote on and on, copying the often difficult and uninteresting languageof the more technical part of her employer's construction. And oneafternoon, lifting her eyes to let them dwell on a great budding purplelilac tree, with the warm breath of the breeze which had drifted acrossthe apple orchard fanning her cheek, and all the notes of rioting springin her ears, she did draw in spite of herself one deep sigh of longingwhich she instantly suppressed--too late. 

Her companion looked up quickly, noted the flush in the cheek and thehint of a weary shadow under the dark eyes, and suddenly pushed asidehis paper. Then he drew it back, blotted it carefully, laid it with apile of others, and capped his pen. He wheeled about in his chair toface his assistant. 

"Put down your work, please, " he commanded gently; "precisely where youare. Don't finish that sentence. "

Georgiana looked up, astonished. "Not finish the sentence?"

"No. Did you never stop in the middle of a sentence?"

"I'm afraid I have. But I didn't suppose you ever did. "

"I don't. But I want you to. Please. That's right. You will know whereto start it again to-morrow. "

"To-morrow?" In spite of herself her eyes had lighted as a child'smight. 

"Even so. To-day we are going for a drive in all this beauty--if I canfind a horse and some kind of a vehicle, and you will go with me. It'sonly three o'clock. We can have a long drive between now and the hourwhen you invariably disappear to make magic for our appetites. How aboutit?"

"I can keep on perfectly well, you know, " she said, with pen stillpoised above her paper. 

"But I can't. " He was smiling. "Now that the other plan has occurred tome, I can't keep on. "

"Did you see inside my mind?" queried Georgiana, putting away hercopying with rapid motions. 

"Suddenly I did. I've been rather blind, a hard taskmaster. I've beenconscious of what was going on outside when I went for my walks, but thework is absorbing to me and I have kept you too steadily at it. We bothneed a rest, " he added as she shook her head. 

CHAPTER XIV

OUT OF THE BLUE

Twenty minutes afterward he drove up to the door with the best that thevillage liveryman had to give for the highest price his customer couldoffer--a tall black horse of fair proportions, and a hurriedly washedbuggy of the type in vogue in country districts. But as Georgiana wentdown the path she was conscious that the figure which stood hat andreins in hand awaiting her would lend dignity to any vehicle, short of awheelbarrow, in which he might be seen to ride. 

Then presently the pair were driving along country lanes in the verymidst of all the burgeoning beauty of the season, and Georgiana was likea captive bird let loose. Her companion as well responded to the call ofNature at her loveliest, and the tireless worker of the study seemedchanged at a word to a bright-eyed idler of the most carefree sort. Thetwo gave themselves up without restraint to the enjoyment of the hour. 

"I wonder how long it is, " said Mr. Jefferson, letting the reins lieloose at a leafy curve of the road while the black horse willinglywalked, "since I have had a drive like this. Not for ten years atleast. "

"You've lived always in a great city?"

"Since boyhood--in the heart of it. "

"And have driven motors, not horses, for those ten years. "

"Yes, like everybody else. But I spent all my summers as a boy on mygrandfather's farm, and there I drove horses and rode them and didacrobatic feats on their bare backs. I was a wild Indian, a cowboy, anda captain of cavalry by turns. Those were happy days, and on a day likethis they don't seem long ago. "

"They can't be so dreadfully long ago, " she dared, with a glance at theinteresting profile beside her. 

"Can't they? Don't I look pretty aged compared with your youth?"

"I'm not so remarkably young, " she retorted. 

"Aren't you? You are about ten years younger than I. That's a big leapand must make me seem a grandfather indeed. "

"But you don't know how old I am. "

"I could come pretty close to it, " said he with a quick look. 

"How could you know?"

"When you see a spray of apple blossoms like those"--he pointed toward amass of pink and white at the stage of perfection beyond an old railfence--"can't you tell at a glance whether they've been out a day or aweek?"

"I should say that if things had happened to them to make them feel asif they'd been out a week when they had been out only two days----"

"A heavy rain, for instance? In that case we should bedeceived--perhaps. But in the case of a human being those heavy rainssometimes only mature without fading---- Hello, ----what's this?"

A small and very ragged boy had emerged suddenly from a meadow gateway, his face convulsed with pain and fright. He nursed one hand in the otherand the colour had deserted his round cheek, leaving it pallid under itsfreckles. The only house nearby was an abandoned one and there were noothers for some distance in either direction. 

Mr. Jefferson stopped his horse. "Does it hurt badly, lad?" he asked inthe friendliest of tones, which yet had a bracing quality. "Don't youwant to let me see if I can help it?"

The boy stood still, tears silently making their way down his face. Giving the reins to Georgiana, Mr. Jefferson jumped out and gentlyexamined the small hand, the middle finger of which, as the onlookercould plainly see, was badly distorted and somewhat swollen. The skin, however, did not seem to be broken. 

"We can make that more comfortable right away, " the man promised thelittle boy. "Sit down on the grass for a minute or two, laddie, while Ifind something I want. "

He pulled out a handkerchief, as yet folded and fresh from its ironing, and handed it to Georgiana. "Will you tear that into strips an inchwide, please, while I take a look back here for a bit of wood?" and hedisappeared down the road, while Georgiana with the aid of her strongwhite teeth tore the fine linen as he had bidden, and spoke comfortinglyto the little fellow, who seemed glad enough to have fallen intofriendly hands. 

When he shortly returned Mr. Jefferson was rapidly cutting and whittlinga stick into a little splint, which he then wound carefully with a stripof the handkerchief until it was covered from view. Then he took theinjured hand in his own capable ones--his assistant had often notedthose hands--and said quietly, "I'm going to hurt you just a minute, little man, but you'll be all right, so be game, " and in two deftmotions he had pulled and twisted the broken finger, and had set itstraight as the others, with but one sharp outcry from the owner. Inless time than it can be told in, the set finger was bound securely withits neighbouring finger to the padded splint, and the whole neatlybandaged with the torn linen, the entire procedure accomplished withthe rapidity and skill of the practised hand. No amateur surgery this, as Georgiana understood well enough. 

"There, " said Mr. Jefferson, drawing forth another handkerchief asspotless as the first--she wondered if he went always thus providedagainst emergency--and improvising a little sling in which the bandagedhand swung comfortably, "I think you'll do. Rest a bit and then go home, and tell your mother not to touch that finger for three weeks. By thattime it will be as good as new, only be careful with it when you firstuse it. Good-bye, laddie, and better luck next time. "

Georgiana saw the uninjured hand of the boy close over something brightas the man's hand left it, and heard a low sound which might have beenalmost anything indicative of surprise and joy. Then the black horse wasmoving on, and Mr. Jefferson was saying: "Weren't we talking about appleblossoms?"

"We had finished with them, I think, " Georgiana replied, wondering if hereally were going to offer no explanation of the hint of mystery whichhad been about him ever since her work with him had begun. 

But he did not offer any, only went on with the pleasant talk with whichhe had all along beguiled the way. Georgiana was recognizing thisafternoon, more than she had yet done, what a well-stored mind waspossessed by this unassuming man, whose manner and speech yet did notlack that quality of quiet assurance which is the product only ofgenuine knowledge and experience. 

The black horse was within a mile of home, passing through the laststretch of woodland which would justify the walking pace, in which, greatly to his astonishment, he was being allowed to indulge at all suchpoints, when a motor car, slowing down beside him, caused him to layback his ears in displeasure. 

Georgiana, turning, beheld the handsome, eager face of Miles Channing ashe leaned toward her, his hand hushing his engine as he spoke. 

"Miss Warne--Mr. Jefferson--forgive me for stopping you! I should havegone on and waited for you if I had been sure you were on your way home. But I'm a messenger from the Croftons; they beg you to let me bring youback with me to-night. " His eyes rested on Georgiana. 

"To-night? Is anybody ill?"

"Oh, no, no; nothing like that. It's for quite a different reason theywant you; only I'm to ask you not to question me. You're to come onfaith, if you will. And they'll agree to have you back in the morning bybreakfast-time, if you insist. "

Georgiana looked puzzled, but, being human, she was naturally interestedand attracted by this mysterious plan. "It's very odd, " she mused, "butif father can spare me----"

"I will undertake to see that your father is not lonely this evening, "said Mr. Jefferson's quiet voice at her side. "And please don't botherabout to-morrow morning or to-morrow at all, if you would like to beaway. "

"If Mr. Jefferson wouldn't object----" began Channing; but Mr. Jeffersonanticipated him. 

"Please don't hesitate to go on with Mr. Channing, if you would like togain a little time, " he suggested to his companion. "He will have you athome before I can reach the bend in the road. "

Georgiana looked round at him. "I prefer to finish one ride before Ibegin another, " she declared, smiling. "It's only a mile, Mr. Channing;we shall be there nearly as soon as you. Please go on. "

It thus came about ten minutes later that James Stuart, walking up tohis home from a field where he had been superintending an interestingnew departure in cultivation, caught sight first of a now-familiarroadster of aristocratic lines whose appearance thereabouts had becomemost unwelcome, and shortly thereafter of a less pretentious vehicle, being rapidly drawn by a still more familiar black horse, and occupiedby two people whom it gave Stuart no acute pleasure to see together. 

"Well, I should say George was displaying her admirers in great shapethis afternoon, " he said gloomily to himself. "It's a wonder I'm nottrailing on behind with a wheelbarrow. But I vow I'd like to know sincewhen her contract with Jefferson has taken them out into thecountry--and in working hours, too!"

Afterward it was all rather a strange memory to Georgiana when sherecalled it. She had flown about to prepare the appetizing early supperwith which she was accustomed to serve her small family, and to whichshe now added a delicacy or two on account of its seeming the naturalthing to ask Mr. Miles Channing to remain rather than to allow him to goto the small village hotel. Then she had cleared her table and left theafter-work to the neighbour who was to come to the rescue as before. Shehad dressed with hurried fingers for the trip, and had driven away witha devoted escort who spared no pains to make her feel that he wasexceedingly pleased at the success of his mission. 

There was no place in her memory for something she did not see nor wouldhave thought of imagining significant if she had seen it. When she leftthe house Mr. Jefferson was in his room, searching for a book from whichto read aloud to his self-assumed charge of the evening. When he heardGeorgiana's blithe cry of farewell to her father in the doorway below, he left the bookcase and went with a quick step to the window. Hewatched the car driven by Mr. Channing out of sight down the road; thenhe descended to the garden, pipe in hand. Before he returned to thehouse to take his place by the evening lamp and begin the reading to thegentle invalid stretched on the couch, he had covered many furlongs upand down the straggling pathways and had consumed much more than hisusual quota of choice tobacco. And though all about him had been the Mayenvironment at its loveliest, through all his marching up and down hehad never once looked up. 

Miles away, and ever more miles away, Georgiana had flown like the windin the swift car under its skilfully guiding hand. The drive was ablurred impression of slowly gathering rosy twilight, of the odour ofthe apple blossoms--somehow a different and more seductive fragrancethan it had been in the sunlit afternoon--and always there was the senseof there being beside her a presence which disturbed. Channing's lowlaugh, his vibrant voice in her ear, the things he said, half serious, half earnest, always full of an only slightly veiled intent--the girlwho had spent so many days of her life in hard study or harderhousewifery could do no less than yield herself for the hour to thepulse-quickening charm of it and forget everything else. 

Just as twilight settled into dusk and for the first time the headlightsof the car came on with a long reach like a golden ribbon along theroad, Channing, suddenly slowing down, a few miles out of the city, began a rapid speech on a subject so unexpected that it fairly took hishearer's breath away. 

"It's not fair of me to tell you, but I've simply got to get in thefirst word. You must pretend you haven't heard it, but if there's anypersuading to be done I want my share, and want it first. Your cousinsare going to invite you to sail with them next week for a summer inEngland after a fortnight in Paris--Paris in June! You don't know whatthat means; you can't even imagine it. I can--I know it--don't I knowit!" He laughed softly. "Since they're to be away and won't need herthey'll send down their housekeeper--the most competent person in theworld--to stay with your father and make him absolutely comfortable, soyou don't have to hesitate on that score. "

"It's perfectly wonderful, but"--Georgiana was staring at him throughthe dusk--"but--oh, I couldn't, Mr. Channing! how could I? Father is sofeeble; something might happen. "

"Not in summer. Things don't happen to elderly people in summer. It's inwinter--pneumonia and things like that. And don't you know he'd bedelighted to have you go? He wouldn't let you miss such a chance; I knowhim already well enough for that. "

"But, you see, I'm engaged to work for Mr. Jefferson----"

"Well, he'll be all right; he's a traveled man himself; anybody can seethat. He wouldn't stand in the way of your good, not for a moment; ofcourse he wouldn't. He'd urge you to go. Why, there's nothing else foryou to do. Think of the glorious summer we'll have--glorious! Why, I----"

"What do you mean? I don't understand. " Georgiana felt her cheeks growscarlet in the darkness. 

"Mean? What could I mean? Why, I'm going, too, of course. Sailing whenyou do. Invited to spend a month in Devon with the Croftons--and you. "His voice sank lower. "And that fortnight in Paris--oh, I'll be inParis, too, no doubt of that! I'll show you what Paris is like on a Juneevening. Do you think I'd want to send you out of this country if Iweren't going, too? Not I--Georgiana!"

CHAPTER XV

"GREAT LUCK!"

"Father Davy, are you sure, _sure_?" begged his daughter. 

"Sure that I want you to go, daughter? Very sure. What sort of fathershould I be if I were willing to deny you this great pleasure merely toinsure my own comfort? And I shall be comfortable. Why should I not be, with the good Mrs. Perkins to look after me, and our fine friend Mr. Jefferson to bear me company in the evenings, as often as he can? Andwith James Stuart, who is like a son--and with your letters arrivingwith every foreign mail? Dismiss these fears, my dear, and take yourhappy chance to see something of the Old World. Many a delightfulevening will we have together next winter, you and I, over thephotographs you will bring back, while you discourse to me of youradventures. "

Thus Mr. David Warne in his most reassuring manner, while his daughterstudied his delicate, pallid face, her heart smiting her for beingwilling to leave him to the loneliness she knew, in spite of all hisprotests, he would suffer in her absence. And yet opportunities likethis one did not occur everyday, might not come again in her lifetime. And everybody was conspiring to make it possible for her. 

"It goes without saying, " Mr. Jefferson had told her at once, "that allother engagements should be cancelled in the face of such an invitationas this. We will all look after your father for you. And as far as yourwork with me is concerned, don't give it another thought. I shall makerather slower progress without you, of course, but when you return wewill take great strides and complete it well within the limit I haveset. So go by all means, and good luck!"

As for James McKenzie Stuart, his words of persuasion seemed to betempered by various other emotions than those of unselfish desire forGeorgiana's pleasure. 

"Of course it's great, and there's no doubt that you must go, " he said. He was sitting upon the rear porch of the manse, looking off towardGeorgiana's garden, on the second evening after her return from thehurried drive to the Croftons'. "I'll do all I can for your father, ofcourse. But don't ask me to console the book-writer. "

Georgiana laughed merrily. "He'll not need any consolation, Jimps. Noryou either. Jeannette told me to tell you that she'd write to you once afortnight--if you'd answer. "

"No! She didn't say that?"

"Yes, she did, and meant it. I'll write, too, of course. You'll bedeluged with letters and picture post-cards. You ought to be satisfiedwith so much attention. "

"Letters are all right--we won't say anything about the post-cards--andI hope you'll both keep your promises. But when I think of all thesesummer evenings without you----"

He heaved a gusty sigh which Georgiana had no reason to doubt wasgenuine. How much heavier would be his spirits, if he were told thatMiles Channing was to be of the party, she had full consciousness. Shewas aware of the futility of attempting to keep this unwelcome news fromhim longer than the day of her departure, but she had not thus farventured to mention it. 

"I shall miss these evenings myself, " she said soberly. "After all, Jimps, I expect there'll be nobody gladder to get back home than I. Ishall see this old garden in my dreams. " Then quickly, as anotherdeep-drawn breath warned her that sentimental ground was dangerous, shecried: "Oh, but, Jimps! I haven't told you of the last and nicest thingthat wonderful girl has done for me. She insisted on my bringing homethe dearest little traveling suit of some kind of lovely summer sergethat doesn't spot and doesn't muss and is altogether adorable. Sheinsists it's not becoming to her, and it really isn't; but I almost knowshe planned not to have it becoming so she could give it away to me. Anda perfect beauty of a little hat--and a big, loose coat, to wear on thesteamer, that looks absolutely new, but she vows it isn't, and thatshe's tired of it. Was ever anybody so lucky as I?"

"It certainly does take clothes to stir up a girl, " was Stuart's cynicalcomment. "Talk of separation and they pretend to be as sad over it asyou are; but let 'em think about the clothes they're going to wear andtheir spirits leap up like soda water. "

"Poor old Jimps! Doesn't he know the sustaining qualities of prettyclothes? Too bad! But really it's lucky I have something to sustain me, it's such a pull to make myself go. I didn't suppose I'd ever leaveFather Davy this way while he is so feeble, but he's the most urgent ofall to send me off, and I know I really can bring him back wonderfulpleasure. "

Thus the talks ran during the few days which elapsed before Georgiana'sdeparture. Every spare hour was full with preparation, from the packingof the trim little steamer trunk which arrived by express, a gift fromUncle Thomas, to the careful mending and putting in perfect order ofevery article Father Davy would be likely to wear during the wholeperiod of his daughter's absence. Georgiana's thoughts as she workedwere a curious mixture of happy anticipation and actual dread. 

"If only I could go as Jeannette is going, " she said to herself, "without a care in the world except to plan how she will fill thesummer, and to make sure her maid puts in plenty of silk stockings tolast till she can buy some more in Paris. When I went to college it waswith the fear that I ought not to accept father's sacrifice, even thoughAunt Harriet was with him then, and he was far, far stronger than he isnow. I've never done anything in my life without a guilty feeling that Iought not to be doing it. Why can't I do now as they all bid me--drop mycares and take my fun, like any other girl? I will--I must. It's onlyfair!"

The excitement of anticipation grew upon her as the busy hours slippedaway; the regrets and anxieties diminished. With every day came freshand delightfully interesting contributions to her outfitting fromJeannette or Aunt Olivia--a handsome little handbag of silk and silverto match the traveling suit; a snug toilet case of soft blue leather, holding everything mortal woman could want on train or ship; a greatwoolly steamer rug to use on shipboard. Georgiana could only catch herbreath at such kindness, and dash off hasty notes of spirited thanks, and protests against any more of the same sort. But in spite of herpride it was impossible to resist accepting these and other gifts, theyseemed prompted by such genuine affection. 

The day came; the trunk was closed and strapped. Mr. Jefferson had donethe strapping, coming upon the prospective traveler in the upper hall, where she was trying in vain to bring leather thong and buckle into theproper relations. 

"Haven't I yet proved my right to the title of man in the house?" heinquired, as he did the trick with the masculine ease which is ever asource of envy to those whose hands are weaker. 

"Indeed you have; but I shall never get over feeling that I have to doeverything for myself. "

"It will be some one's privilege to teach you better some time, " was hisrejoinder. "Meanwhile, those of us who are near at hand are only toohappy to act as deputies. "

Between her "three men, " as Jeannette had called them, Georgiana wasallowed to do little for herself at the last. She was to meet hercousins as the train went through their city, but Stuart had invitedhimself to accompany her to that point, thus giving himself a chance, ashe said, to clinch that bargain with Jeannette concerning the promisedletters and post-cards. 

Therefore Georgiana's farewells were not to be all said at once, forwhich she was thankful. It was quite enough to take leave of FatherDavy, who was looking, it seemed to his daughter's eyes, on that sultryJune morning, a shade paler and weaker than usual. 

"It's the sudden summer heat, dear, " he said with the brightest ofsmiles, as with her arms about him she questioned him; "nothing more. There, there, my little girl; don't let your fancy get the better ofyou. I'm very well indeed, and shall soon be used to the summer weather. Go--and God be with you, dearest!"

"It doesn't matter about His going with me if He'll only stay with you, "murmured Georgiana, vainly struggling with herself, that she might takea bright and tearless farewell of this dear being. 

"He will go with you and He will stay with me, " said Mr. Warnecheerfully, "so be at rest. Here--I've written you a steamer letter. Read it when the good ship sails, and think of me as rejoicing in yourhappiness. "

It was over at last, and she was off. At the gate she had turned to Mr. Jefferson, who was carrying her handbag to the village stage, from whichStuart had leaped to run up to the porch and say a word of cheer to Mr. Warne, sitting in a big chair. 

"I can't tell you what a comfort it is, Mr. Jefferson, " she said as shegave him her hand, "to know that you are here. I haven't worked with youfor six weeks not to understand that it is no mere author of ascientific treatise who is staying with my father. "

"No?" He smiled into her lifted eyes, and his look was that of a friendwhom one may trust. "Well, Miss Georgiana, if it is of any support toyou to be told that whatever knowledge or skill I may have is all at theservice of your father, then I am glad to assure you of that fact. Iwill do my best for him always. Good-bye, and may it be a happy timefrom first to last. "

His hand held hers close as he said these words, and continued to holdit for a moment longer while he gave her a long and intent look. Shefelt a strange pang; it was almost as if she could think he was going tomiss her. Yet she knew better. If he missed her it would be only becausehe had become accustomed to having her about. No sign of any moreuncommon interest had he ever shown. 

Then Stuart, farther down the path, was calling, "Come, George, we'reall but late now"; and she was in the old stage and it was lumbering offdown the road, while neighbours waved from their windows, and Georgianastrained her eyes to get a last look at the figure on the porch. 

On the train she and Stuart somehow found little to say to each other inthe ride of an hour and a half to the city station where the rest of theparty came aboard. Stuart did not catch sight of Miles Channing untilthe last minute of the train's stop. He had filled the earlier period ofthe ten-minute detention in the station with a hurried talk withJeannette, during which Georgiana noted that the two seemed thoroughlyabsorbed in each other. It was small wonder, for Jeannette had neverbeen more radiantly lovely than in the distinguished plainness of hertraveling costume. She seemed very happy as she presumably bargainedwith Stuart for letters, and Jimps himself had never looked moreinterested in any proposition than in that one. 

Suddenly, however, the wait was over. Georgiana turned from greetingChanning, who had just come aboard followed by a porter with hisluggage, when she heard Stuart's voice in her ear:

"George, is _he_ going?"

"I believe he is, " she admitted, trying not to let her colour risebeneath the accusing expression in his eyes. 

"And you didn't mention it?"

"Didn't I? He's Jeannette's and Rosalie's friend, not mine. "

"No; he's something more than a friend to you--or means to be. I mighthave known he'd work this scheme. It's good-bye to you in earnest then. "

"Jimps! Please don't. It's nothing of the sort. I----"

The train began to move. But instead of a hasty leave-taking and a leapfrom the steps, James Stuart stood still. "I believe I'll go on foranother hour, " he said coolly, with a glance at his watch. "I can getoff at the next stop. Meanwhile--Miss Jeannette, the observationplatform seems to be nearly empty. Would you care to sit out there awhile, since I've no chair in here now and the car is full?"

Georgiana, sitting facing Miles Channing--she wondered who wasresponsible for the fact that his chair proved to be next hers--saw hiseyes, as he glanced toward the rear of the car, follow Stuart andJeannette. 

"He's a mighty nice fellow, isn't he?" he commented pleasantly. "Too badhe isn't coming along. Seems tremendously interested in Jeannette, andit's quite evident that she likes him--as much as is good for him. Thesepartings--well, I'm sorry for him. But he means to make the most of thislast hour. It would be unkind of us to follow them out there, wouldn'tit?--though I was about to propose going out when he stole a march onme. "

"It would be very unkind, " agreed Georgiana gayly. "Yes, I wish he couldhave the whole journey; he deserves a rest and change. He's one of thefinest men I know. "

Now that Channing was beside her, with his handsome face and faultlesslydressed figure easily the most attractive man in the car, she could notbegrudge Jeannette this final hour with Stuart, though her pridesmarted a little under the change in his manner toward herself. She hadread in her cousin's face, as Jeannette's eyes met Stuart's when shefirst caught sight of him, that she was much more than commonly glad tosee him, and the observer had noted with what an air of joyouscomradeship the two had hurried, laughing, down the aisle to the reardoor after Stuart's proposal. 

But the hour was soon over. It was not until the train stopped thatJeannette and Stuart returned to the others inside the car, and then thefarewells were necessarily hurried. With a smiling face Stuart shookhands with them all, leaving his best friend to the last, according tothe unwritten law of farewells. 

When he came to her he looked very nearly straight into her eyes--notquite--it might have been her lower eyelashes upon which he brought hisglance to bear. 

"Great luck, Georgiana, " he said distinctly, "and all kinds of a goodtime. "

"Good-bye, Jimps, and thank you very, very much for coming, " sheresponded. 

It was hardly to be believed that James Stuart would not lower his voiceand murmur some last word for her ear alone, for this had long been hiscustom. Instead, he gave her a brilliant smile--and turned again toJeannette. 

"Good-bye, once more, " he said--and added something under his breath, inresponse to which Jeannette nodded, smiling, and went with him to thefront end of the car, where she alone was the last to wave farewell ashe looked back from the platform. 

Georgiana caught a final glimpse of him as he ran along it with baredhead, and the whole party waved hands and called parting salutes, inwhich she joined. Then Jeannette came back, and Georgiana lookedsearchingly at her, her own heart experiencing an uncomfortable sort ofdepression as she saw the exquisite flush on her cousin's cheek and thelight in her eyes. 

"'Dog in the manger!'" Georgiana sternly reproached herself in her ownthoughts. "Isn't it enough for you to have one man looking devotion atyou, but you must claim everybody in sight?" And she made a determinedand partially successful effort not to mind that things had turned outas they had. Only--she and James Stuart had been friends a very longtime, and she was sorry to have the parting from him tinged by a cloudof misunderstanding. It would have been much better, she admitted toherself now, to have told him frankly in the beginning that MilesChanning was to be of the party. 

CHAPTER XVI

A LITTLE TRUNK

It was a journey of only a few hours to the dock where the party were totake ship, the sailing being set for early afternoon. Before it seemedpossible they had left the train and were being conveyed by motor to thepier. It was at the first whiff of salt-water fragrance that Georgianafelt a sudden onset of dread of the sailing of the great ship. And whenshe caught sight of the four black funnels rising above the mass ofsmaller smokestacks and masts and spars which lifted beyond the dingybuildings of the pier, she experienced an unexpected and disconcertinglonging to run away--back to her home. 

Her father's face rose before her as she had seen it that morning, paleand worn, the inner brightness of the undaunted spirit shining throughthe thinnest of veils. What if anything should happen to that belovedface, so that she should never set eyes on it again? The thought shookher with a throb of pain. 

They were on the pier, they were ascending the gangway, they were on oneof the lower decks and entering the elevator which was to lift thempast many intermediate decks to that one, next the highest of all, wheretheir quarters lay. And when they came out upon that upper deckGeorgiana was dimly conscious that they were a party to attractattention, even among many people evidently of the same class. Any partyto which Aunt Olivia and Jeannette belonged, she felt, must necessarilyexpect to be noticed. Of her own contribution to the party's distinctionshe was entirely unaware. 

But now that she was actually on shipboard, where during the lastfortnight she had so many times imagined herself, Georgiana found to herdistress that she could not for a moment banish the thought, the imageitself, of that gentle, suffering face at home. Not that she wanted toforget it--not that; but she did want, now that her decision was made, to be able to appreciate what a happy occasion it was and how fortunatethe circumstances which had brought about her presence here, the lastplace in the world she had expected ever to be in. 

She entered the stateroom which she was to share with her cousins, andwas amazed at the size and comfort of it. It was half filled withflowers and baskets of fruit and other offerings sent for the girls, with two boxes addressed to herself. Both Stuart and Mr. Jefferson hadsent her flowers. As she examined them a hurried steward appeared witha third box, which proved to be also for her--a small box, which hadcome not from a city florist, like the others, but by mail. 

It had been put up by unskilled hands, as its crushed shape and dampexterior clearly showed. She opened it, wondering, and found a littlebunch of garden flowers, sadly wilted, their limp stems protruding fromthe moistened newspaper in which they were wrapped. She searched for acard, and found it. In a hand she knew well, a little cramped, a littlewavering, but full of character, she read these words: "Blessing her, praying for her, loving her. "

Georgiana's heart gave a great leap of fear. What were those lines, whatthe context? She knew them--knew them well. She had never heard herfather quote them, and never read with him the lines from which theycame. Did he know them, use them with intent, not imagining she wouldplace them? As she well remembered, they were from "Enoch Arden, " andshe had spoken them herself, in a dramatized version of that patheticpoem, the last winter of her college life. And they ran thus:

 When you shall see her, tell her that I died Blessing her, praying for her, loving her. 

At the moment she was alone in the stateroom, the two girls having beenan instant before summoned by their brother to meet some friends whohad come on board to see them off. She stood staring at the touchinglittle bunch of faded bloom, knowing just how tender had been thethought of her which had prompted the effort. It had not occurred to Mr. Warne that there was any other way of sending flowers to ships than bymailing them from one's own garden. As for the words, she knew wellenough that he had not dreamed of disturbing her content by quotingthem, yet--she could but feel that the reason why they came to his mindwhen he was searching there for a bit of tender sentiment to send withhis parting gift was the thought of his own possible end being not faraway. And if he, too, were thinking of that----

With a fast-beating heart Georgiana stood staring out of the openporthole at the scene of activity outside. Far below her she could seethe gangway over which she had come on board. In less than an hour--theparty had arrived early--that gangway would be withdrawn, the waterwould slowly widen between pier and ship, and there would be no turningback. Could she go--could she bear to go--and take the chance? Were herfears only the natural forebodings of the unaccustomed traveler, or wasthere a real reason why she should never have allowed herself to bepersuaded to leave one whose hold on life was so frail, the only beingin the world to whom she was closely bound? She closed her eyes andtried to think. .. . 

Mrs. Thomas Crofton, turning from a group of friends at the touch of herniece's hand upon hers, would have drawn the girl into the circle andpresented her with genuine pride in her, but the low voice in her eardeterred her:

"Aunt Olivia, please forgive me, but I must ask you to come away with mejust for five minutes. Please----"

In a temporarily forsaken angle of the deck Georgiana laid her casebefore her aunt, speaking with rapid, shaken words, but none the lessdeterminedly. Mrs. Crofton listened with an astonished face and withlips which protested even before they had the chance to speak. 

"I know just how dreadful it will seem to you all--that I shouldn't haveknown my duty long ago. But I see it now--oh, so plainly! And it's notonly my duty, it's my love that takes me back. I can't stop to tell youhow I feel about leaving you all when you've been so kind, so wonderfulto me. I can tell you that another time. But the thing now for me is toget off this ship before it sails. I must!"

"But, Georgiana, my dear child----"

"Oh, please don't try to keep me, Aunt Olivia! My mind is made up. Ican't tell you how it hurts to do it, but I don't dare to leave myfather. If anything happened to him I could never forgivemyself--never. He isn't well. It would do no good to take me with younow. I should be so miserable I should spoil it all for you. "

"Georgiana, listen. " The calmly poised woman of the world held theclinging hand in a firm, warm grasp, the low voice spoke evenly. "Manypeople feel just as you do, dear, on the eve of sailing. Some are madeactually ill, even quite old travelers. But they know that it is purehysteria and they fight it off, and afterward they are able to laugh attheir fears. My dear, you are quite mistaken about there being anydanger threatening your father. He is in the best of hands, and hehimself would be sadly disappointed----"

It was of no use. Mrs. Crofton took her niece to her stateroom, and, sending for Jeannette and Rosalie, even for Uncle Thomas, tried in vainto shake her. 

Ten minutes before the hour of sailing, Rosalie, rushing about the deckin search of Miles Channing, finally discovered him and burst out underher breath with the appalling news:

"Georgiana's going back! She's got the idea somehow that her fathermayn't live till she comes home. We can't do a thing with her. Oh, docome and see if you can't show her how absurd it is to do such a thing!"

"Going back!" Miles Channing seized Rosalie's arm. "Where is she? Why, she can't go back; the ship's all but casting off. What on earth is thematter with her? She's too sensible a girl to lose her head at the lastminute. Good heavens! We won't let her go; we'll keep her in herstateroom till it's too late. Take me there--quick!"

They dashed along the narrow passageways, until, coming from theCroftons' suite, they encountered Georgiana pale but quiet, Jeannetteflushed scarlet and in tears, and Mrs. Crofton evidently sorelyexasperated, but keeping herself well in hand. 

Channing walked straight up to Georgiana. "Will you give me fiveminutes?" he asked. 

She shook her head with a faint smile. "It's no use, Mr. Channing. Ishall not change my mind again. I should have known it in the firstplace, and there mayn't be five minutes to spare. I must be in sight ofthe gangway. "

"I'll take you there, " he said, and glanced at the others in a way whichclearly said: "Give me my chance. " They understood and let him leadGeorgiana on ahead toward the place she sought. 

He was a clever man and an experienced one in the ways of women, eventhough his years among them were not yet many. He realized that argumentwas of little use; there was only one weapon left with which to fightthe girl's determination, and it was one he was not loath to use, thoughhe had not meant to speak so plainly until quite different surroundingsinvited. 

"This is a hard blow to my hopes, " he said very low, as they stood wherethey could watch the manoeuvres of the officers and men who were incharge of the embarkation of passengers. "I can't tell you what thisvoyage with you has meant to me; I don't know how to give it up. Now, please listen. Won't you do this? Come across with us, and then, whenyou are actually over--it's only a five-day crossing, you know--if youstill feel you must go back, we'll not try to prevent you. You'll beaway then only a fortnight, and nothing in the world can go wrong atyour home in that little time. And meanwhile we shall have had thisvoyage together--Georgiana?"

His voice with its meaning inflections would have been very hard toresist, if the girl had not by now set her teeth upon her determination. Having suffered already so much humiliation for the sake of her suddenconviction, her pride would not have let her change again, though avoice from the skies had then and there assured her that all was andwould be well with her father. So once more she shook her head and movedtoward the gangway. Behind her, ready to follow her if must be, adeckhand waited with her luggage. The Croftons, their faces showing muchconcern, had remained in the background waiting for a signal fromChanning that he had or had not prevailed. 

"If you go ashore, " threatened Channing, "I shall go with you. And theship will sail without me. "

This roused her to speech. "No, no; don't even say such a thing--just tofrighten me. Good-bye, Mr. Channing, and--I'm truly very, very sorry. "

"I mean it, " he urged hotly. "The whole thing is nothing to me withoutyou; you know that perfectly well. "

"I should never forgive you, " she said, turning to look once into hiseyes, as if to convince him of the reality of her prohibition; and hesaw there all the spirit he had reckoned with, and saw, too, such aworld of possibilities for one who could arouse that intense andpurposeful nature, that he was swept off his feet. 

"But you will forgive me if I come back by the next ship, " he saidquickly. 

"No. Not if you come a day sooner than you intended. "

Once more their glances met, like blows; then Georgiana moved rapidlytoward the gangway, where the sailor in charge was beckoning. TheCroftons, one and all, hurried forward, and the retreating travelersuffered their embraces. 

"My child, you are forcing us to leave you here alone to look afteryourself, after our promising to take every care of you, " mourned Mrs. Crofton. "I shall be most uneasy about you. "

"No, no, dear Aunt Olivia, you mustn't be. I am a perfectly independentperson, and I can take myself home without a particle of trouble. Good-bye--and please, please forgive me, all of you!"

She was off at last, with Jeannette's hot tears on her cheek, Rosalie'sreproachful and all but angry final speech, "I didn't think you'dactually do it, Georgiana Warne!" ringing in her ears; and Chester'sexplosive, derisive prediction following her, "By thunder, but you'll bea sorry girl when it's too late. I can tell you that!"--to make her feelthat nobody really understood or sympathized with her. 

It was Uncle Thomas who applied the one touch of balm to his niece'ssore heart:

"David Warne is a rich man, my dear girl, to have you, " he said gently, as he kissed her. "Don't feel too badly over disappointing us; it's allright. Take good care of yourself going home, and give my love to yourfather. "

She smiled bravely back at him as she ran down the gangway with half ascore of belated visitors to the ship. In a moment she was only one ofthe crowd of people who were watching the huge bulk of the liner drawalmost imperceptibly away from the pier. Through blurred vision shelooked up to the spot where they were all waving at her andsmiling--thank heaven, they were smiling, as it was obviously theirduty to do, no matter what their feelings. 

When their faces had become indistinguishable, and the great ship hadbacked far out into the waters, and was headed toward the Atlantic, Georgiana turned to a porter at her elbow. "No, " she said, "I didn'tsail. Yes, this trunk is mine; it's to go back. "

Somehow, as she followed the man through the long, dingy building, thething which drove home the ache in her heart was the sight of thelittle, aristocratic-looking, leather-covered steamer trunk, UncleThomas's gift, packed with so many high hopes, now riding alone on agreat truck. Of all the baggage which that truck had borne to the ladingof the ship, hers was the only little, lonely piece to come back!

CHAPTER XVII

REACTION

In the darkness of the summer midnight Georgiana descended from the"owl" train, the only passenger, as it happened, to alight at the smallstation. She had hoped to slip away unobserved for the half-mile walkhome, but the station master was too quick for her. He was a youngstation master, and he had known Georgiana Warne all his life--fromafar. 

"Well, I certainly did think I'd seen a ghost, " said he, confrontingher. "I thought you'd gone to Europe. Get a message to come back? Yourfather ain't took sick, has he?"

"No, I hope not. I--something happened to make it best for me to comeback. "

"Well, that's too bad, sure, " said he, curiously regarding her. "Say, wait five minutes and I'll walk down the road with you. It's pretty latefor you to be out alone. "

"Thank you, Mr. Parker; I don't mind a bit, and I'm anxious to get on. I've only this small bag to carry, and it's bright moonlight. No, truly, please don't come. Good-night, and thank you. "

Could this really be herself, Georgiana Warne, she wondered, as she madeher escape and walked rapidly away down the road under the high archesof the elms. How had it come about? Why was she here, she who hadexpected to be out on the first reaches of the great deep when midnightcame this night? As she passed silent house after silent house, familiarand yet somehow strangely unfamiliar in the light of what might havebeen, it was hard enough to realize that she had had this wonderfulchance to stay away for two happy months from the sober little oldplace, and had herself relinquished it. 

Before she knew it she was nearing her home, the old white housestanding square and stern in the moonlight--she had been seeing it allthe way in the train. She loved it dearly, no doubt of that, but it hadbeen no attack of homesickness which had brought her back to it. 

As she came up the path she saw, past the sweeping branches of the greattrees which surrounded the house, that Mr. Jefferson's windows werestill alight. This was no surprise, for she knew he had often workedtill late hours before she began to help him; and it looked as if, nowthat he had to continue alone, he meant to keep up the rate of advanceby working overtime. 

Georgiana stole upon the porch and tried the door. It was bolted asusual. She slipped around the house, and tried the side and rear doorsin turn, to find them fast. She had had no plan as to how to make anundisturbing entrance at this hour, but had counted on being able todiscover some unguarded point. She and her father had never been carefulas to thorough locking of the house in a neighbourhood where thefts werealmost unknown, but evidently their boarder, accustomed to city ways andchances of trouble, had taken pains to make all fast. 

There seemed to be only one thing to do, and Georgiana did it. Afterall, it was probably better that somebody should know of her return, incase she had to go about the house and make any betraying sounds. Shestooped to the gravel path, and scooping up a handful of pebbles flungthem up at one of the lighted windows, where they rattled like smallbird shot upon the wire netting of the screen. 

It took a second fusillade before the absorbed worker within wasattracted and appeared at the window, a black figure against the yellowradiance of the oil lamp. 

"It's some one who belongs here, " Georgiana called softly. "Please comedown very quietly and let me in. "

"Wait a minute, " returned the voice above. 

In less than that minute the door swung softly open, and the tallfigure, clad in loose shirt and trousers, the former open at the neckand revealing a sturdy throat, stood before the applicant for admission. There was no light upon Georgiana, for the moonlit yard was behind her. 

"What can I do for you?" Mr. Jefferson was beginning in a pleasant tone, as of one not at all disturbed by being summoned at this hour, when avoice he had heard many times before said, with an odd thrill in it, asif it struggled between tears and laughter:

"You can let me in and try not to consider me an idiot. I got my fatheron my mind and couldn't sail, so I came back. That's absolutely allthere is of it. "

"My dear girl!" Mr. Jefferson put forth a hand and took hers, as he cameout upon the porch. "Of course, I beg your pardon, " he added, releasingher hand after one strong pressure, "if you consider that my rathernatural surprise isn't apology enough. But--you can't mean that theship--and the party--have sailed without you?"

"Just that. Is--is my father as well as he was this morning?"

"He was quite as well, apparently, at bedtime. The heat has been trying, but he has borne it without complaint. "

"I don't know what I expected, " confessed Georgiana rather faintly; "butI don't think I expected that. I'm very thankful. I'll come in and slipupstairs. Thank you for coming down. "

She would stay for no more; it seemed to her that she could bear nofurther explanations to-night. As if he understood her, Mr. Jeffersonwas silent as he followed her in, bolted the heavy door, and took fromher the handbag she carried. He deposited this at the door of her roomupstairs, and spoke under his breath in the darkness relieved only bythe rays which shone from the open door of his own room at the front ofthe hall:

"Good-night--and welcome back!"

It was almost daylight when she fell asleep, and she wakened again atthe first sound of Mrs. Perkins's footsteps in the kitchen below her. She dressed slowly, her heart heavy with the sense of having made aprobably needless sacrifice. With the waking in the familiar old room, all the realization of that which she had lost had come heavily uponher. Why was not the sunlight pouring in through portholes, bearing therefreshing breezes from the sea, instead of beating in over the hot tinroof of the ell upon which her windows looked? Was it merely as AuntOlivia had warned her, the hysteria of the inexperienced traveler? Whyhad she not at least accepted Miles Channing's eminently reasonablesuggestion that she make the voyage, giving her emotions time to cool?At the longest, if she made an immediate return, she would have beenabsent but little more than a fortnight. 

But she dressed with unusual care none the less, and when she descendedthe back stairs she was looking as fresh and trim as ever in her life. She encountered the good Mrs. Perkins in the kitchen and had it out withher, receiving the first encouragement she had felt that somebody wouldthink her rational in her return. 

"Well, I must say, " declared that lady, standing still, as if she hadbeen struck, in an attitude of astonishment, "while I'm more than sorryfor you to lose your trip, Georgie, I shall feel safer now you're back. Your father cert'nly does look awful peaked to me and kind of weak-like, more so than I ever noticed before. Perhaps it's just because I felt theresponsibility settlin' down on my shoulders the minute you was out ofthe house. And I guess he was goin' to miss you pretty awful much;though, of course, he wouldn't say so. "

Georgiana took in her father's tray when it was ready, quite as usual, her heart beating fast as she entered and beheld the white face againstthe propped-up pillows. After the first gasp of surprise she saw theunwonted colour flow into the pale cheeks. 

"My dear, dear child, " he said, as she set down the tray and flew toclasp him in her arms, "this is--this is almost more than I can grasp. What has happened Is the sailing of your ship deferred?"

"My sailing on it is deferred, " she told him. "I couldn't leave you, Father Davy; that's the simple truth. Your daughter is aninfant-in-arms. "

She did not try to make it clear to him; but let him guess the most ofher reason for returning, and was rewarded by his fervent: "Well, dear, it was a very wonderful thing for you to do. But you should not havedone it. You should have trusted the good Lord to take care of me, as Ibade you. You must do it yet. We will arrange for you to follow yourUncle Thomas's party on the next boat. I cannot have you lose so muchjust for me. "

"It's no use, " she asserted, her eyes studying the blue veins so clearlyoutlined on the fair forehead. "I've made my decision; I ought to havemade it that way in the beginning. So long as you need me I shall notleave you. "

At the breakfast table she met Mr. Jefferson. It was only twenty-fourhours since she and he had breakfasted together, but somehow it seemedto Georgiana as if at least a week had gone by. Mr. Warne was seldompresent at the first meal of the day, and it had come to seem verynatural to Georgiana to sit down with her boarder and pour his coffeeand talk with him. This morning, however, there was a curious constraintin the girl's manner. After the first interchange of observations onthe promise of even more extreme heat than on the preceding day and thepossibilities of dress and diet to suit the trying conditions, the talkflagged. 

"I am strongly tempted, " said Mr. Jefferson, as he rose after making anunusually frugal meal of fruit and coffee, "to let up on work till therecomes a change in the weather. I believe I shall try how it feels toidle a little. You surely will indorse that, Miss Warne, as far as youare concerned?"

"No, " she said quickly, sure that this plan was the result ofconsideration for herself; "as far as I am concerned I should muchprefer to work. I am sure you can give me something to do, even if youare not working yourself. "

"Do you mean that? Then if you do, I shall be with you, though I thinkit would be good for you to rest. This last week has been pretty fullfor you, even though you haven't been with me on the book. "

She shook her head. "I want to go on with it, " she insisted; and heagreed. 

News in a small village travels fast, and Georgiana was fully preparedto have James Stuart appear with the first fall of dusk. He came throughthe hedge at the foot of the garden, and found her on the seat under theold apple tree which was her favourite resort. His greeting was full ofthe astonishment which had been his all day. 

"My word, George, but I never would have believed this! How on earth didyou come to do it?"

"I had to, " she said simply and rather wearily. She had explained to atleast twenty persons that day, as well as she could explain. She was notwilling to confide to any one the incident of the flowers and the cardwhich had brought about the impulse to return that had hardened soquickly into action. She had listened to all kinds of comments on thesituation, some few sympathetic, but most of them curious and critical. Many had said to her that they never would have believed Georgie Warnewould ever change her mind about anything. Others had added that perhapsit was a good thing, since her father certainly was pretty feeble andnobody knew when he might take a turn for the worse. Altogether, it hadnot been a happy day for the object of the village interest. 

Stuart sat down beside Georgiana on the old bench which bore hisinitials from one end to the other of it, the earliest ones hacked outduring his small boyhood, the later more than once coupling Georgiana'swith his own. His hand, as he settled into place, rested on one of thesevery monograms. 

"It seems like the natural thing to say I'm glad to see you back, " hesaid slowly, "but--there's a reason why I can't say it at all. "

"Then don't dream of saying it. " Georgiana leaned her head listlesslyagainst the seamy old tree trunk behind her. 

"It's not that I wanted you to go; you know I was altogether too selfishfor that, " he went on. "But--something happened at the last that made meentirely reconciled to having you go. Can you guess what it was?"

"Possibly. "

"But you can't. Of course I was pretty well dashed at finding Channingbooked for the trip. But--I got over that when--I made up my mind tocome, too. "

"To come, too!" The head resting against the tree trunk turned quickly. "What _do_ you mean?"

"Jeannette suggested it, " said he, with something in his voice which hislistener could not quite analyze. "She put it up to me to come overwhile they should be staying in Devonshire, and join their house party. At first I said I couldn't, but the more I thought of it the more itseemed possible to get over there for a fortnight anyhow. The plan wasnot to tell you, and to surprise you by walking in on you. "

Georgiana stared at him, as well as she could see him through the fervidtwilight. "Jimps! Why, how could you get away?"

"There's never a time when it's easy to get away, " he admitted; "buteverything's in full sail now for the summer, and just lately I'vesucceeded in getting hold of an awfully competent man who could runthings for the month well enough. Anyhow, of course I was dippy at thethought of going and--I promised her I would if I could manage it. I'venever had the chance to travel much, and it suddenly struck me that Ididn't have to deny myself every possible thing. But, of course, nowthat you're back----"

"But that makes no difference!" she cried quickly, "Why should it?Jeannette asked you because she wanted you. Of course you must go, ifyou really can get away. "

"She never would have asked me if you hadn't been going. And it was onlyan afterthought then. If I hadn't gone on for that last hour it wouldn'thave occurred to her. "

"It occurred to her to wish it, because she said so more than once to methe day I was there. But she didn't dream you could do it. I don't knowwhy we should all consider you a fixture, for your father is muchstronger than mine and it couldn't harm him at all to spare you for alittle. Of course, you must go, Jimps! When will you start?"

"Do you honestly want me to go, George?" He seemed to be scanning herface through the dimness. 

"I should be a selfish thing enough if I didn't, " she protested. 

He was silent for a minute; then he said: "To be frank, I wrote lastnight for a berth on a ship that sails in two weeks. Jeannette warned menot to delay, the travel is so heavy this time of year. I talked it overwith my father and he seemed pleased at the idea. You can imagine I felta bit dizzy this morning when I heard you hadn't sailed. I didn'tbelieve it at first. "

"Never mind, you will go just the same--and all the more. It's a pitysomebody shouldn't carry out the plan, and you've had less fun than I, for you've been at home longer since college. Go, Jimps, and take thegoods the gods provide. "

She maintained this spirit throughout the ensuing fortnight, in spite ofhis evident effort to make her acknowledge that she would feel her owndisappointment the more for his going. When he came over to say good-byehe found her apparently in the gayest of spirits; and she gave him sucha friendly send-off that he went away marvelling in his heart at theways of young women, and the ways of Georgiana Warne in particular. 

CHAPTER XVIII

"STEADY ON!"

On the day following the departure of James Stuart for England, whilethe two literary workmen were hard at it in the old manse study, theJuly weather having mercifully turned decidedly cooler for a space, thevillage telegraph messenger, a tall youth with a shambling gait, appeared with a message for Mr. Jefferson. Georgiana brought it to him, and waited to know whether there was a reply. 

She saw the message--evidently a long one--twice read, and noticed apeculiar lighting of the grave face which had bent over it. Mr. Jefferson wrote an answer, briefer than the message received, andhimself took it to the waiting boy. When he returned he sat down andbegan to put in order the papers on which he had been working. 

"I have another trade, as you have guessed, " he said to Georgiana. "Itseems necessary for me to go away and work at it for a few days, perhapsa fortnight. It is fortunate for me that you are here, for I should nothave felt that I ought to leave your father, and yet I should hardlyhave been able to refuse the call of that message. "

"Then I am very glad, " she returned, "that I am here. Can you leave mework to do?"

"I am afraid not, beyond that already laid out for to-day. Won't yourest while I am gone? This is vacation time for most people, you know. "

She shook her head. "With only father to look after I shall have littleenough to do. "

"You won't--forgive me!--go up into that blistering attic and make rugs?I hope not!" She felt that he was looking keenly at her. 

"Why should you hope not? I am one of the people who must be busy to becontented. How soon do you go, Mr. Jefferson?"

"On the noon train. " He looked at his watch. "I have an hour to makeready. No, don't go. I will come back when I am ready, and we will putthings in shape to leave, so that we shall know exactly where to takethem up again. "

In half an hour he was back, and together the two put the results oftheir joint work into such shape that at a moment's notice they mightresume it. This done, they went to Mr. Warne, and the intending travelerexplained briefly the situation--without, as Georgiana fully realized, explaining it at all. Then, shortly, he went away, with something in hismanner which subtly told her that he was very glad to go, and that hewas thinking of little besides the errand which took him from them, careful though he was in every courteous detail of leave-taking. 

When he had gone Georgiana and her father looked at each other. 

"Daughter, " said Mr. Warne, looking intently at the vivid face, with theeyes which saw so many things, "do you know what you remind me of?"

"No, Father Davy. Of a cross child?"

"Of a young colt, penned into a very small enclosure, with only one lameand blind old horse to keep it company. And within sight, off on thehillside, is a great, green pasture, with other colts and lambs sportinggayly about, and the summer sunshine over all--except in the corral, over which a dark cloud hangs. And I am sorry--sorry!"

"Father Davy!" Georgiana choked back a lump in her throat. "But it ishot July, and the cloud makes it cooler and nicer in the corral. Andbesides--the lame, blind horse is such a dear--has drawn such heavyloads and would be so lonely now without company. And--and the colt hasmany long years to sport on hillsides. "

Mr. Warne smiled, more sadly than was his wont. "But not while it is acolt. " Then, after a pause, "My dear, we shall miss Mr. Jefferson. "

"Shall we?"

"I shall miss him more than I should have realized till I saw him godown the path. And James Stuart, too. That is why I know that you willmiss them. "

"We shall live through it, " prophesied his daughter cheerfully, andbetook herself to the kitchen, which she found looking, in spite of itswell-ordered neatness, more like a jail than ever before. 

The following days went by on feet of lead. Never had Georgiana had tomake such an effort to maintain ordinary, everyday cheerfulness andpatience. She found herself longing, with one continuous dull ache frommorning till night, for something to happen, something which wouldabsorb her every faculty. She rose early and went for long walks, andwent again in the late afternoons, with the one purpose of tiring hervigorous young body so that it would keep her restless mind in order. She worked at her rug-making many hours, spent many more in readingaloud to her father, and still there were hours left to fill. She forcedherself to go to see all her acquaintances, to visit those few who wereill; there was nobody in want in the whole place, it seemed, in thissummer prosperity of garden. 

"There's nothing to do for any one, " she said to her father one day. "Ifeel guilty times without number because I'm not of more use to thepeople about me. "

Her father studied her. "Dear, " he said slowly, "what you need just nowis something the good Father knows you need, and I believe He will notdeny it to you. In the meantime, remember that simply being cheerful andpatient under enforced waiting is sometimes the greatest service thatcan be rendered. "

"If you haven't taught me that, it isn't because you haven't illustratedit every day of your life, " she cried--and fled. 

In her own room she beat her strong young hands together. "Oh, dear God!"she said aloud, "if I could only, only have the thing I want, I wouldtake anything, _anything_ that might go with it and not complain!"

And then, suddenly, one early August night, Mr. Jefferson returned. Hecame up the path, bag in hand, and saw a solitary figure standing on thesmall front porch, where a latticework sheltered opposing seats. It wasa white figure in the early dusk and it rose as he approached. 

"The fortnight is not quite up, " said Georgiana quietly. "But I put yourroom in order to-day, hoping you would come. My father never missedanybody so much. "

"That sounds very pleasant. " He set down his bag and shook hands. "Itmakes it the harder to say that I must be off again in the morning. And--I shall not be coming back. If it had not been that I could notleave without seeing you and Mr. Warne I should have sent on to ask youto pack and send my trunk. "

"Really? How very unexpected! But I would gladly have sent on thetrunk, " said Georgiana. Something cold clutched at her heart. 

"Would you? That sounds rather inhospitable! Do you care to hear myplans?"

"If you care to tell them, Mr. Jefferson. "

"I wonder, " said he, "if you would be willing to go around to the otherporch and sit there. I have a fancy for being where I can get the scentfrom your garden. I shall miss that spicy fragrance. Is your fatherstill up?"

"He has just gone to bed. He would be very happy if you would go in andspeak to him, " said Georgiana. 

Mr. Jefferson ran upstairs with his bag, and made a brief call upon Mr. Warne. Then he came down, to find Georgiana standing with her arms abouta white pillar, her face looking off toward the garden. The lamplightfrom the central hall, whose rear door opened upon the porch, gleamedrosily out upon her. 

Mr. Jefferson came out and stood beside her. "I came back, " he said, "just to offer you my friendship in any time of need. I couldn't go awaywithout doing that; I couldn't be content merely to write it back toyou. I have lived here in your home with your father and yourself untilit has come to seem almost as if I belonged here. But my work calls me;I must go back to it. The book must wait, to be finished in sparemoments as other books have been finished. I thought I could give myselfthis year away from my profession to accomplish this task and perhaps tolay in fresh stores of energy. But I find I can't be easy in mind to dothis longer. So I am going back. "

After an instant Georgiana answered, without turning her eyes away fromthe garden: "You are a very fortunate person. "

"To have work that calls so loudly? I am sure of that. And it is workwhich absorbs me to the full. But I shall always have time to give toyou or to your father, if in any way I can ever be of service to you. Ihave no family to call upon me for any attention whatever; I have nonear relative except the married sister who lives abroad, as I have toldyou. By the way, Allison has bidden me more than once to thank you forher for taking such good care of me. You know her by her picture, if youhave noticed it--the one on my bureau. "

Georgiana nodded. She did not trust her lips, which were suddenlytrembling, to tell him that though he had often spoken of this sister hehad never mentioned the fact that the photograph on his bureau was hers. But--what did it matter now? It was far better that she had not known, that she had had this restraint upon her imagination to keep her fromever letting herself go. It was far better---- But he was speaking; shemust listen. 

"While I have been in this house I have felt, " he was saying, "as if Ihad a real home. It is hard to give that up. Association with yourfather has become much to me. I can't tell you what he has given me outof his stores of wisdom and experience. And you--have been very good tome; I shall not forget it. "

"I have done nothing, " murmured Georgiana with dry lips, "except feedyou and dust your room. You might have had such service anywhere. "

"Might I? I doubt it. And there is something else. If I may I shouldlike to tell you how I have admired you for your steady facing of eachday's routine. There is no heroism in the world, Miss Georgiana, equalto that, to my thinking. "

She shook her head. "I'm not heroic; please don't tell me I am. "

"But you are, and I must tell you so. Why not? I have seen more than youmay have realized. My whole life's training has been in the line ofobservation of other human beings. And you must know that no one couldbe with you and not understand that the fires of longing to live andlive strongly and vitally burn in you with more than ordinaryfierceness. Yet you subdue them every day for the sake of the one whoneeds you. That is real heroism, and the sight of it has touched me verymuch. "

Suddenly she found herself struggling to keep back the choking in herthroat. How well he had understood her--and what unsuspected depths oftenderness there were in his rich and quiet voice. She could not speakfor a little, and he stood beside her in a comprehending silence. 

"I can't go away, " he said presently, "without telling you that yourhappiness has come to seem very important to me. I have--necessarily--afairly wide knowledge of men, their characters, their motives, theirideals--or their lack of them. Miss Georgiana, when you come tochoose--will you let me say it?--don't be misled by superficialattributes, even the most attractive. Don't let the desire to have yourhorizon apparently expanded, to go far and see much and live intensely, overbalance your appreciation of fine and lasting qualities in one whocould give you little excitement but much that is real and worth having. It may be very daring in me to say this to you, but I find myselfimpelled to it. I want you to live, and live gloriously, and findemployment for every one of your splendid energies, and there is onlyone being in the world who can help you do that--the man whom you canrespect as well as love, and love as well as respect. Will you promiseme to choose him and nobody else?"

She turned suddenly and fiercely upon him. "How can you think I----" Shestopped short, her eyes blazing in the darkness. 

"I can foresee, " said he, very gently, "an hour for you when you will betempted out of your senses to do the thing which promises change, anychange. You are starving for it; you are desperate with longing forit----"

"Mr. Jefferson----"

"Miles Channing came into town when I did: his car raced my train forthe last two miles. He has gone to the hotel. Doubtless you will see himwithin the hour. Miss Georgiana, I can't let you marry him withouttelling you that if you do you will be an unhappy woman for the rest ofyour life. "

She was speechless for a moment with surprise. She forgot her encounterwith the speaker in her astonishment at his news. Channing had comeback, then, even as he had vowed, long before the rest of the party. Theknowledge that he was close at hand again, bringing back with him such awild will to accomplish that of which he had been thwarted that he hadnot been able to brook delay upon the other side of the water, wasknowledge of the sort which stopped the breath. 

"Will you forgive me?" said Mr. Jefferson's low voice in her ear. 

"But--but I--don't understand, " she stammered--and now at last sheshowed him her unhappy eyes. 

"What I have to do with it? How can I fail to have something to do withit? When I let you sail in the same party with this young man withoutwarning you, it was because I had no possible notion that he was to bealong. When I learned that he had gone and that he had followed youback, I knew that he was in earnest--at least in his pursuit of you. Ihad thought there was no actual danger for you on account of yourfriend--your real friend--the young man whom you had known and trustedso long and with such reason. But now, with him away and you alone hereand lonely and full of the hunger for life--yes, I know I am speakingplainly, but I feel that I must put you on your guard. And I want you tofeel that though I shall be gone to-morrow night I am here to-night, andif you have any need for me--for an elder brother----"

"Oh, how can you think----"

"I do think--and I know--and I fear for you. Not because I do notbelieve in you, but because I know the manner of man who will approachyou. You have never known his sort. Let me be a brother to you--just forto-night, if only in your thought. It may help to steady you. "

There was silence between them for a little. Then steps upon the frontporch, quick, ringing steps, as of one who comes with eagerness. Georgiana felt her hand taken for an instant and pressed warmly betweentwo firm hands. Then her companion left her. .. . 

Three hours afterward Georgiana flung herself, breathing fast, upon herknees beside her open window and lifted her face toward the sky. Shewould have fled to her garden for this vigil she must keep, but theextraordinary truth was that she did not dare be alone there. Her handsgripped the sill, her eyes stared without seeing at the vaulted depthsabove her. After a long time--hours--she rose and went to her door, opened it without making a sound, and, listening till she had made surethat the house was as silent as all houses should be at two in themorning, she stole slowly along the upper hall. Presently she stoodoutside the closed door of the guest who was sleeping under the roof forthe last time. With a fast-beating heart she noiselessly laid her handupon the panel of that door. 

"You did steady me, " she whispered. "I couldn't have done it if youhadn't warned me--fortified me. Oh, what shall I do without you?"

Inside suddenly a footstep sounded, the footstep of a shod foot. Instantly the girl was off down the hall like a frightened deer. In herown room she stood with her hand upon her breast. "Up--at this hour!"her startled consciousness was repeating. "Why? There was no light inhis room. Couldn't he sleep either? Why? Is _that_ what it means to himto be a brother?"

In the morning Mr. Jefferson took his leave. His parting with Mr. Warnewas like that between father and son. When he came to Georgiana helooked straight down into her eyes. 

"Remember, " he said, "that what I have told you of my wish to be of anypossible use to you and your father holds good, even though I should beat the other side of the world. I shall write now and then to ask aboutyou both. I can't tell you how I hope for your happiness--Georgiana. "

When he had gone she went to her room and dropped upon her knees besideher bed, her arms outflung upon the old blue and white counterpane. 

"O God, " she whispered passionately, "how could You show it to me if Icouldn't have it? How _could_ You?"

CHAPTER XIX

REVELATIONS

Summer had gone at last, its fierce heat giving way to the cool, freshdays of an early autumn. August, September, October--the months haddragged interminably by, and now it was November, bleak and chill, withgray skies and penetrating winds and sudden deluges of rain. Georgiana, sweeping sodden leaves from a wet porch after an all-night storm, lookedup to see the village telegraph messenger approaching. With her onedearest safe upon a couch within, and Stuart long since at home again, she could not fear bad news. She thought of Jeannette, who was always, in the absence of a telephone in the old manse, telegraphing herinvitations and demands. 

She tore open the dispatch with a hope that it was from Jeannette, forshe had sadly missed her letters. Jeannette, indeed, it was who hadinspired the message, but its sender was her sister. Rosalie Croftonwired that Jeannette had been taken suddenly and violently ill while ona visit in New York and was to be operated upon at once; that she hadbegged Georgiana to come and to bring James Stuart with her; thatRosalie herself was dreadfully frightened and prayed Georgiana not tolose a train nor to fail to bring Stuart. 

Action was never slow with the receiver of this message; it had neverbeen quicker than now. With one brief explanation to her father, she wasoff to find Stuart. Just at the dripping hedge she met him, his facetense with the shock it was plain he had received. At sight of her hedrew a yellow paper from his pocket. 

"You've heard?" he cried. 

"Yes; this very minute. "

"There's only an hour to catch the ten-ten. You'll go?"

"Of course. I was coming to tell you. I'll be ready. "

She turned again and ran back. There was much to do in the allottedhour, but with the help of Mrs. Perkins she accomplished it. When sheand Stuart were in the train, sitting side by side in the ordinary coachof the traveler who must conserve his resources, as Georgiana haddecreed, Stuart spoke the first word of comment upon the situation. 

"Of course, there was nothing to do but go, " he said, "after thattelegram. "

"Of course not, " agreed Georgiana simply. 

"She was perfectly well--last week, " said Stuart. 

"Was she? You know I haven't seen her since they came back. "

"She said she had tried every way to get you there. "

"She has. I was going--when I could. You know father hasn't been as wellsince they came back in September. "

"I know. But she's wanted to see you. She says she can't write half sowell as she can talk. "

"No. One can't. "

There was silence for some time after this exchange. Stuart seemedrestless, stirred often, once got up and stood for a long time at therear of the car, staring back at the wet tracks slipping away behind. When they had changed trains and were headed for New York, with theirdestination only a few hours away, Stuart, again in the vestibule of thecar, looking out through the closed entrance door upon a dull landscapepassing like a misty wraith through the November fog and twilight, foundGeorgiana at his elbow. 

"Jimps, " she was saying in her straightforward way, "what's the use ofbothering to keep it covered when it shows so plainly? Do you think Idon't understand? I do--and it's absolutely all right. "

He turned quickly, and his gloomy eyes stared down into her upliftedface. 

"O George!" he muttered. "Can you honestly say that?"

"Honestly. I know how it happened. You couldn't help it. It was meant tobe. The other--wasn't. That's all there is of it. "

"I've been feeling such a sneak. "

"Why should you? I've told you over and over----"

"I know you have. But--that last time----"

"That was really the beginning of--this other, " said she with decision. "You were not yourself and you didn't know just why. You thought it mustbe because you cared for me, but it was--the stirring of your first realfeeling for any woman, only you didn't recognize it. That's the wholething, Jimps, and you are not to reproach yourself, particularly nowwhen----" She faltered suddenly, and he drew a quick breath that was asif something stabbed him. 

After a little he began very slowly: "It didn't really happentill--Devonshire. Those two weeks--I can't tell you. No mortal man couldhave resisted her. Yet I tried; I did, George. She didn't know aboutyou; she never has, except that we were old friends and dear ones. Shethinks the trouble is that she's a rich man's daughter and I'm only afarmer. "

"You're no ordinary farmer and she knows it. Her family know it. And ifshe wants you she'll have you; they've never refused her anything. "

"I haven't asked her. "

"James Stuart!" It was her old tone with him. For the moment both forgotthe possible issue of this errand upon which they were going; only thevital relations at stake seemed involved. 

"But--she knows, " said Stuart very low. 

"Of course she does. "

By and by Stuart spoke again. "George, you were never quite so close tome as now. "

She slipped her hand into his. "I'll stay close, dear; and I'll do all Ican for you both. "

This was all they said until the first lights of the great city, milesout, were flashing past them. Then it occurred to Georgiana to put astartled question:

"Jimps, have you any address to go to? There was none in my telegram. "

"I know where they are staying. " Stuart put his hand into his pocket anddrew out a thick letter, upon which Georgiana recognized her cousin'shandwriting. "This came only yesterday morning. "

In spite of herself the girl felt a wild thrill of pain. Her chum--herchum! And it was the first time he had ever failed to be open with her. 

As if he recognized that the sight of the letter had told even moreplainly than words could have done, the degree of intercommunicationbetween the two presumable lovers, Stuart said quickly:

"I was going to tell you, George--on my word I was. I knew you didn'tcare for me--that way, but I was afraid it might hurt just the same, after all our vows. Somehow the days went by so fast and--well, you seethere was Channing. A while back I thought you were going to marry him, more than likely. "

"You didn't really think it, Jimps. "

"I don't know what I thought. George, we're getting in. Oh----" And hebroke off. 

She knew what had happened, for with the first glimpse of the greatterminal station the things which thus far had been never really vividin her consciousness had in the twinkling of an eye taken terrible form. This was New York, and somewhere in it they were to find Jeannette, stricken in the midst of her youth and beauty and joy of life and love. If only they might find the worst of the danger safely past!

They were rushed in a taxicab to the great uptown hotel, to find there amessage saying that the whole family were at the hospital and that theywere to follow at once. In the second cab Georgiana's hand again foundStuart's and stayed there. His face was set now; he spoke not a word, and even through his glove his hand was cold to the touch. Then, presently, they were at the big, grim-looking hospital with thecharacteristic odour, so suggestive to the senses of the tragedies whichtake place there night and day, meeting them at the very portal. 

It was Georgiana who made the necessary inquiries, for Stuart seemedlike one dazed with fear of that which was to come. He followed her withhis fingers gripping his hat brim with a clutch like that of a vise, hiseyes looking straight ahead. An attendant led them to a private room, and here in a moment Georgiana found herself caught in Rosalie's arms, with pale faces all about which tried to smile reassuringly but couldsucceed only in looking strained. It was Aunt Olivia who seemed mostcomposed and who made the situation clear. Uncle Thomas could only graspthe newcomers' hands and press them, while his lips shook and his speechhalted. 

"It is a very peculiar case, and we had to wait till a certain surgeoncame who was out of town--Doctor Craig. They seemed to think it safer towait for him. He has had extraordinary success in similar cases. He--iswith her now, operating. My dear, I am very glad you have come--and you, Mr. Stuart. She wanted you both, and we felt that if her mind were atrest her chances----" But here even Aunt Olivia's long training incomposure under all circumstances deserted her, and she let Georgianaput her in a chair and kneel beside her, murmuring affection and hope. 

It was a long wait--or so it seemed--interrupted only once by theentrance of a young hospital interne, who came to advise the family ofthe patient that thus far all was going well. It had proved, as wasexpected, a complicated case, and there was necessity of proceedingslowly. But Doctor Westfall had sent word to them to be of good cheer, for the patient's pulse was strong, and Doctor Craig's reputation, asthey knew, was very great. 

"It's Dr. Jefferson Craig, you know, " explained young Chester Croftonsoftly to Georgiana. "We're mighty lucky to get him. He only came backfrom abroad two days ago, and he was operating out of town somewherelast night. Doctor Westfall was awfully keen to have him and nobodyelse. "

Georgiana knew the name, as who did not? Jefferson Craig was the manwhose brilliant research work along certain lines of surgery hadastonished both his colleagues and an attentive general public, and hisoperative surgery on those lines had disproved all previous theories asto the possibilities of interference in a class of cases until recentlyconsidered hopeless after an early stage. It was indeed subject forconfidence if Doctor Craig's skilful hands were those now at Jeannette'sservice. 

But there is no beguiling such periods of suspense with assurance offormer successes in similar cases. Jeannette's family had need of alltheir fortitude for the bearing of such suspense before Doctor Westfall, the Crofton's family physician from the home city, appeared in thedoorway. He had been brought on by them when they were summoned toJeannette's bedside. He had known the girl from her babyhood, and thesigns of past tension were clearly visible in his face as he looked uponhis patient's family, though his eyes were very bright and his lips weresmiling. 

"Safely over, " was his instant greeting, and his hand fell with thetouch of hearty friendship on the shoulder of Mr. Thomas Crofton. "Iwouldn't come till I was sure I might bid you draw a long breath andease up on this strain of waiting. "

They came around him, Aunt Olivia's lips trembling, her hand fast inGeorgiana's. Young Chester Crofton gave a subdued whoop of joy, andpretty Rosalie, scarcely out of emotional girlhood, burst intohysterical crying which she struggled vainly to keep soundless. 

"Mind you, " warned Doctor Westfall, wiping his own eyes though hecontinued to smile, "I don't say all danger is past. Doctor Craig wouldbe the last man to countenance such a statement. We must hold steady forseveral days before we can speak with absolute assurance. But every signpoints to safety, and certainly--certainly--well, "--he paused as if hecould not readily find words for that which he wished to say, --"if ithad been anybody but our Jeannette I should have congratulated myself onthe chance to see such a piece of work as that. I've never seenJefferson Craig operate, though I've been a fascinated follower of hisresearch and have read every word he has written. And he's astonishinglyyoung. I expected to see a man of my own age. "

"We must see him, Doctor, " murmured Mrs. Crofton, striving to regain hercomposure which, as is often the case, was more shaken by the assuranceof good news than by the fear of bad. "We must thank him for ourselves. He will come in to see us?"

"As soon as he is out of his gown. I'm going back for him in a minute, for I knew you would want the words from his own lips. You will likehim--you will like him immensely. "

He went away again presently on this errand, an imposing figure of a manof fifty, accustomed to responsibility and able to carry it, a typicalcity physician of the class employed by the prosperous, but with certainclearly defined lines about his eyes and lips which proclaimed him alover of human nature and a sympathizer with its sufferings, in whateverclass he might find his patients. 

"He's such a dear, " declared Rosalie, wiping away her tears and smilingat James Stuart. "He's adored Jeannette ever since she was born, and Iknow he's been just as anxious as we were. Do cheer up, Jimmy. I'm justas sure she's going to get well now as I was sure she wasn't before. "

"I don't dare to be sure, " he answered in a low tone. 

Georgiana looked at him and saw how shaken he still was, notwithstandingthe reassuring news. In spite of her anxiety she had been observant, ever since she entered the room, of the attitude of Jeannette's familytoward James McKenzie Stuart. It had not been difficult to come to theconclusion that for Jeannette's sake they would accept him, and that forhis own sake they were forced, in varying degrees, to like him. Howcould they help it? she wondered, when they looked at his fine, frankface and observed his manly bearing. He was college bred; he was asuccessful worker with his brain as well as with his hands, for hisfarming was scientific farming, and his results established a model forthe community. He was by no means poor--and yet--Georgiana realized thatthe change for Jeannette from a home of luxury to one of comparativeausterity of living would be a tremendous one. Well, such events hadoccurred before in the world's history, and it was by no meansunthinkable that they should occur again. As Georgiana noted the tenselook on Stuart's face, and saw the hardly abated suffering in his eyes, she said to herself that if Jeannette cared as much for him as he forher, she cared quite enough to bring her family to terms at any price. 

The door opened again, as quietly as hospital doors invariably open, and Doctor Westfall advanced once more into the room, followed by ayounger man with a grave, clean-cut face and the unassuming, quietlyassured bearing of established success. As Georgiana's eyes fell uponthe distinguished surgeon whose name was Jefferson Craig she recognizedher former lodger, Mr. E. C. Jefferson. That she did not for a momentwonder what Mr. Jefferson was doing here in the famous surgeon's placewas due to the fact that her mind instantly bridged the chasm betweenthe two personalities and made them one. Yet there was a subtle, buteasily recognizable, difference between the personality of Mr. Jeffersonand that of Doctor Craig. There could be no question that here his footwas on his native heath! The literary worker had for the time vanished, and here was the man who did things with his hands and did them betterthan other men. She had long understood that he had another and moreactive place in the world than that which he had temporarily occupied assolely a writer of books. This was the place, and nothing could haveseemed less surprising than to find him in it. 

At the same time, the finding occasioned a difficulty in maintaining herown composure of face and manner. She had known Mr. Jefferson; she didnot know Doctor Craig. She understood instantly, without anyexplanation, that he had chosen to be known in the obscure village byonly a part of his name, because that name was so notable that even thetwo village doctors, the old one and the young, would have recognized itand been at his heels, to the detriment of those months of rest fromsurgery which he had dedicated to the exposition of his methods uponpaper. She was quick to perceive also that it would be easy enough forDoctor Craig to prove as different from Mr. Jefferson in relation to hisacquaintance as he was different in his position in the world. What, indeed, had Dr. Jefferson Craig and little Georgiana Warne in common?Certainly far, far less than had had Mr. E. C. Jefferson and that sameGeorgiana Warne. 

He did not see her at once, for the father and mother of his patient methim in the middle of the floor, and his first glance fell upon them andremained there while he spoke to them of their daughter. Even in hismanner of speaking Georgiana felt a decided difference. There was acurious crispness and succinctness of speech that marked theprofessional man, which was decidedly different from the more expandedconversational manner of Mr. Jefferson. 

"Yes, she is sleeping quietly under the last effects of the anæsthetic, "he was saying when Georgiana took note of his words once more. "We willlet her sleep. It will spare her some hours of consciousness. "

"Will she suffer very much when she wakes, Doctor?" was the mother'sanxious question. 

Doctor Craig's smile was the very one Georgiana had first liked abouthim, for it transformed his face and gave it back the youth which hisearly responsibility in a serious profession had done its best to age. "We shall not let her suffer very much, " he promised. "That's notnecessary nor desirable. "

"When may we see her?" Mrs. Crofton pursued. 

"You may all see her for a moment before she wakens, if you wish. Afterward her mother and father for just a word, and--I am told sheexpressed a very strong wish to see a young man who was on his way. Hashe come? For the sake of her contentment I have agreed to allow him aword with her by and by--just a word, if he will be very quiet. "

It was Uncle Thomas who turned to beckon James Stuart forward, and thento nod at Georgiana. Immediately Stuart was presented to Doctor Craig, who, looking intently into the young man's questioning face, saidstraightforwardly: "Mr. Stuart and I have met before under quitedifferent circumstances. He knew me as a writer of books and may besurprised to find me here--as I am surprised to find him. "

"Let me present you to my niece, Miss Warne, Doctor Craig, " said AuntOlivia, and Georgiana was glad of the preparation the minutes had givenher, for here indeed was need for all her powers of self-control. Hereyes had no sooner looked into those which met them with such a keen andsearching glance than she was stirred to the depths. She had thought shehad known what it would be to feel those eyes upon her again, but shehad not reckoned with the effect of absence. 

He made no effort to conceal the situation. "When your daughter sees menext, Mrs. Crofton, " he said, without turning from Georgiana, "she willknow me, as Miss Warne and Mr. Stuart do. I spent last winter in MissWarne's home, under the name of Jefferson alone, to find time to work ata book I am writing. I gave it up sooner than I had expected, because mywork here would not be denied. "

"Didn't Jean know you when she saw you before the--the operation?" criedRosalie, full of curiosity at this unexpected turn of affairs. 

"She did not see me before she was anæsthetized, " explained DoctorCraig; and Doctor Westfall added, patting Rosalie's hand: "It's ratherlike a story, isn't it, Rosy? Doctor Seaver, of the staff here, wastelling me this morning how Doctor Craig tried to take a year off torest and write, but how they got him back--and glad enough to have him, too. And yet we want that book. It's rather hard to have a reputation sobig it won't give you time to rest. He needed the rest, Seaver toldme. "

"I had it. Six months in the country did more for me than a year intown, " said Doctor Craig. He turned at the sound of a light knock uponthe door. He gave the impression of a man whose senses were every onealert. 

An apologetic interne came in with a message for Doctor Craig and heleft them, with a final word of confidence and the request that they allretire to rooms at the nearby hotel where they were staying. 

Georgiana found Rosalie at her side. "O George! is he really the man youhad in your house all this year? You lucky thing! Didn't you fall inlove with him instantly? Why, he's perfectly wonderful!"

"You think so now, child, because you know he's distinguished. If youhad seen him quietly working at his book you probably wouldn't havelooked at him a second time. "

Rosalie studied her cousin's face so intently that Georgiana had somedifficulty in maintaining this attitude of cool detachment. The younggirl shook her head. "He couldn't have changed his face, " she insisted. "He's not a bit handsome, but he's stunning just the same. Oh, howastonished Jean will be when she finds out who's saved her life! When doyou suppose he'll let Jimmy Stuart see her? He'll die if he doesn't makesure she's alive pretty soon. "

CHAPTER XX

FIVE MINUTES

It was not many hours before Doctor Craig himself led Georgiana andJames Stuart together into the room where Jeannette lay. She had askedto see them together, he said, and they might remain for precisely fiveminutes. He immediately left the room again and took the nurse with him. 

The five minutes were spent by Stuart with Jeannette's hand in both hisown, as he knelt beside the the bed where she lay, no pillow under herhead, her face very white but her eyes glowing. 

Jeannette's look met Georgiana's. "Is it all right?" she said very low. 

"Of course it's all right, dear; and I'm perfectly happy over it, "whispered Georgiana. 

Jeannette smiled. "I couldn't be happy till I was sure, " she breathed. "I thought--I might die, even yet--and I wanted it like this--first. "

An inarticulate murmur from Stuart answered this, but Georgiana assuredher very gently: "You're going to be happy with Jimps for years andyears, Jean darling. "

They were silent then, as they had been bidden, but the silence waseloquent. Doctor Craig, coming in to put an end to the little interview, saw the unmistakable tableau. As Stuart, catching sight of him, roseslowly to his feet, the surgeon's fingers closed upon his patient'spulse. He nodded. 

"As a heart stimulant you have done very well, Mr. Stuart, " he said. "But small doses, frequently repeated, are better than large ones. "

Jeannette's hand weakly caught his. "Isn't it queer, Georgiana, " shemurmured, "that it should be your Mr. Jefferson who has saved my life?"

In spite of herself, Georgiana could not prevent the rich wave of colourwhich swept over her face. She knew, without venturing to look at him, that Doctor Craig's eyes flashed toward her with a smile in them. Shestooped over Jeannette with a gay reply:

"And he began his acquaintance with you by snowballing you till youalmost had need of his surgery on the spot!"

Then she and Stuart were out in the wide, bare hospital corridor, andStuart was saying with a shiver: "Does she look all right to you, George--sure?"

"Of course she does, Jimps. You never saw her before with her hair downin braids; and any face looks pale against a white bed. "

He shook his head. "I shall not stir out of this town till she lookslike herself to me. "

"Of course you won't. I wish I needn't, but I must go back to fatherto-night. "

They all tried to dissuade her from this course, but she was firm. Sheknew well enough that all Jeannette had wanted of her was to assureherself that she possessed a clear right and title to Stuart's love. Evidently Jeannette had guessed more at Stuart's past relations withGeorgiana than either of them had imagined, and she would not allowherself to be happy without the knowledge that she was not making hercousin miserable. 

One brief conversation with Doctor Craig was all that was vouchsafedGeorgiana before she left the city, and that took place in the presenceof others, in Aunt Olivia's apartment. It was clear enough how busy aman he was in this his own world, for when he came into the room heexplained to Mrs. Crofton that it had been his only chance since theyarrived to make a brief social call upon the family of his patient. Itwas but an hour before Georgiana's departure, and when he learned this, Jefferson Craig came over to her, where she sat upon a divan at one endof the long private drawing-room of the suite. Seeing this, the othersof the party began conversations of their own, after the manner of thehighly intelligent, and for those five minutes Georgiana lived in aplace apart from the rest of the world. 

"Please tell me all about your father, " he began, and the tones of hisvoice, low as are habitually those of his profession, could hardly havebeen heard by one across the room. 

Georgiana told him, unconsciously letting him see that the fear of herprobable loss was ever before her, though she could not put it intowords. She knew as she spoke that his eyes did not leave her face. Shehad no possible idea how alluring was that face as the light from thesconces nearby fell upon it. She was conscious, womanlike, that thesmall hat she wore was made over from one of Jeannette's, and she didnot think it becoming. Though it was November, she still wore her summersuit, for the reason that since her return from abroad Jeannette had notfound time to pack and send off the usual "Semi-Annual, " and previousboxes had not included winter suits at at all. Altogether, withmany-times-mended gloves upon her hands, and shoes which to her seemeddisgraceful, though preserved with all the care of which she wasmistress, Georgiana felt somehow more than ordinarily shabby. 

Doctor Craig asked her several questions. He spoke of the rug-making, watching her closely as she answered. He asked how often she went towalk and how far. He asked what she and her father were reading. Hewould have asked other questions, but she interrupted him. 

"It's not fair, " she said. "Please tell me about the book. Does it geton?"

"Do you care to know?"

"Very much. I'm wondering if your copyist makes those German referencesany clearer for the printer than I did. "

"Nobody has copied a word. I have not written a word. The book is at acomplete standstill. I see no hope for it until I can take anothervacation--under the name of E. C. Jefferson. "

"And that you will never take, " she said positively. 

"I never shall--in the same way. There are reasons against it. The bookwill have to be written as the others were--on trains, on shipboard, inmy own room late at night. "

"Is it right to try to put two lifetimes into one?" she asked, and nowshe lifted her eyes to his. 

Before, she had managed to avoid a direct meeting by those many andengaging little makeshifts girls have, of glancing at a man's shoulder, his ear, his mouth--and off at the floor, the window--anywhere not tolet him see clearly what she may be afraid he will see. And Georgianawas intensely afraid that if Dr. Jefferson Craig got one straight lookwith those keen eyes of his he would recognize that her whole aching, throbbing heart was betraying itself from between those lifted lashes. But now, somehow, with her question she ventured to give him this onelook. The interview might end at any moment; she must have one straightsurvey of his face, bent so near hers. 

He gave it back, and until her glance dropped he did not speak. Then, very low, but very clearly, he said deliberately:

"When may I come?"

The room whirled. The lights from the sconces danced together andblurred. The floor lifted and sank away again. And Chester Crofton chosethis moment--as if he were not after all really of that highlyintelligent class which knows when to pursue its own conversations andwhen to break into those of others--to call across the room:

"Oh, I beg pardon, Doctor Craig, but when did you say Jean might havesomething real to eat? Rosy says it's to-morrow and I say it's not yetat all. "

Doctor Craig turned and answered, and turned back again. He was not ofthe composition of those who are balked of answers to their questions byill-timed interruptions. But the little diversion gave Georgiana aninstant's chance to make herself ready to answer like a woman and notlike a startled schoolgirl. So that when he repeated, his voice againdropped:

"When, Georgiana?"

She was able to reply as quietly as she could have wished: "Do you wantto come, Doctor Craig?"

"I want to come. I have never wanted anything so much. "

"Then--please do. "

"Very soon? As soon as I can get away for a few hours? Perhaps nextweek? It is always difficult, but if I plan ahead sometimes I can manageto make almost the train I hope for. "

She nodded. "Any train--anytime. "

There was an instant's silence. It seemed to her that she could hear oneor two deep-drawn breaths from him. Then:

"Would you mind looking up just once more? I must go in a minute; Ican't even take you to your train. "

But she answered, with an odd little trembling of the lips: "Pleasedon't ask me to. I'm--afraid!"

A low laugh replied to that. "So am I!" said Jefferson Craig. 

He rose, and she rose with him. The others came around and he took leaveof them. His handclasp was all that Georgiana had for farewell, for whenshe lifted her eyes she let them rest on his finely moulded chin. Butshe knew that in spite of his expressed fear it was not her round littlechin he looked at, but the gleam of her dark eyes through theirsheltering lashes, and that his hand gave hers a pressure which carriedwith it much meaning. It told her that which as yet she hardly daredbelieve. 

Since the journey home was made up of changes of trains, no sleeper waspossible, and Georgiana sat staring out of her car window while thoseabout her slumbered. There was too much to think of for sleep, if shehad wanted to sleep. She did not want to sleep, she wanted to live overand over again those five minutes with their incredible revelation. Andas the wheels turned, the rhythm of their turning was set to one simplephrase, the one which had sent her world whirling upside down and madethe stars leap out of their courses:

"When may I come?"

CHAPTER XXI

MESSAGES

 Hope to reach Elmville at seven to-night. --E. C. JEFFERSON. 

This was the first of them. When Georgiana received it she had beenwaiting eight days for this first word. She had known well enough thatuntil Jeannette was entirely safe Doctor Craig would not leave her. Georgiana had not minded that she had had no word. She had not reallyexpected any. A man who was too busy to come would be too busy to write, and she wanted no makeshift letters. And she had not minded the delay inhis coming; rather, she had welcomed it. To have time to think, to hugher half-frightened, wholly joyous knowledge to her heart, to go tosleep with it warm at her breast, and to wake with it knocking at thedoor of her consciousness--this was quite happiness enough for theimmediate present. 

Meanwhile, what pleasure to put the house in its most shining order, toplan daily little special dishes, lest he come upon her unawares; to sitand sew upon her clothing, shifting and turning her patchwork materialsuntil she had worked out clever combinations which conveyed small hintof being make-overs!

For the first time in her life she said nothing to her father of herexpectations. What was there to tell as yet? She could not bring herselfto put into words the memory of that brief interview, in which so muchhad been said in so few simple phrases. And if Father Davy read--as itwould have been strange if he had not--the signs of his daughter'ssinging lightness of heart, he made no sign himself; he only waited, praying. 

Georgiana received her first telegram at noon. She had flown for twowonderful hours about her kitchen, making ready, when the despatch wasfollowed by another:

 Unavoidably detained. Will plan to get away Thursday. 

This was Tuesday. Georgiana put away her materials, and swept the housefrom attic to cellar, though it needed it no more than her glowing faceneeded colour. What did it matter? Let him be detained a week, a month, a year--he would come to her in the end. Now that she was sure of that, each day but enhanced the glorious hope of a meeting, that meeting thevery thought of which was enough to take away her breath. 

On Thursday came the message:

 Cannot leave this week. Will advise by wire when possible. 

No letter came to explain further these delays. Georgiana felt that shedid not need one, yet admitted to herself that the ordinary course insuch circumstances would be to send a letter, no matter of how fewwords. Toward the end of the following week a telegram again set a dayand hour, and as before, another followed on its heels to negative it. The last one added, "Deep regret, " and therefore bore balm. 

And then, after several more days, came a message which was all but aletter:

 It seems impossible to arrange for absence at present. Will you not bring your father and come to my home on Wednesday? Will meet train arriving seven-fifteen. Journey will not hurt Mr. Warne, and visit here will interest him. Please do not refuse. E. C. JEFFERSON. 

Well! What girl ever had a suitor of this sort? one too busy to come orwrite, yet who, on the strength of a few words spoken in the presence ofothers, ventured to send for the lady of his choice to come to him, thathe might speak those other words so necessary to the conclusion of thematter. Georgiana sat re-reading the slip of yellow paper, while herheart beat hard and painfully. For with the invitation had comeinstantly the bitter realization--they could not afford to go! Herrecent trip on the occasion of Jeannette's illness had taxed theiralways slender resources, and until the money should come in for thelast bale of rugs sent away, there was only enough in the familytreasury to keep them supplied with the necessities of life. 

The time had come--undoubtedly it had--when she must confide in FatherDavy. Not that he would be able to see any way out, but that she couldnot venture to refuse this urgent request without his approval. 

Georgiana tucked away in her belt the last long telegram, and went toher father. He lay upon his couch, the blue veins on his delicateforehead showing with pitiful distinctness in the ray of Novembersunshine which chanced to fall upon him. 

Georgiana knelt beside him. "Father Davy, " she said, with her facecarefully out of his sight, "I have a little story to tell you--just theoutlines of one, for you to fill in. When I was in New York Mr. Jefferson--Doctor Craig, you know, "--she had told him this part of thetale when she had first come home, --"asked me when--when he might comehere. "

She paused. Her father turned his head upon the crimson couch pillow, but he could not see her face. 

"Yes, my dear?" he said, with a little smile touching his lips. "Well, that sounds natural enough. He knows he is always welcome here. When ishe coming?"

"He isn't coming. He can't get away. He has tried three differenttimes, and cancelled it each time. He seems to be very busy, too busyeven to write. "

"That is not strange; he must be a very busy man. Doubtless he will comewhen he can make time. I shall be glad to see Mr. Jefferson. "

"But--you see--he wants us to come there. "

"Us?"

"You and me. Father Davy--you understand, dear; don't make me put itinto words!"

Her father's arm came about her and she buried her face in his thinshoulder. "Thank God!" he said fervently, under his breath. "Thank thegood God, who knows what we need and gives it to us. "

After a minute's silence: "But we can't go, Father Davy. "

"Can't we? I could not, of course, but you----"

"I couldn't go without you--to his house. And--we haven't any money. "

"No money? Is it so bad as that?"

"And if we had--I'm not sure that I want to take a journey to a man--sothat----"

"Let me see the telegram, my dear, " requested Mr. Warne. When he hadread it he regarded his daughter with a curious little smile. She wassitting upon the floor, close beside his couch, her brilliant eyes nowraised to his face, now veiled by their heavy lashes. "It seems clearenough, " he said. "Concessions must be made to a man who belongs to thepeople as he does. I don't think it would be a sacrifice to yourdignity, daughter, if you were to go. "

"But, Father, darling, don't you see? I didn't want to tell you, butthere was no other way. We have quite enough to live on--withoutextras--till the next rug money comes. But that may not be for a month;they are always slow. And for us to go to New York--well, we could justabout get there. We couldn't get clear home. Father Davy, I can'tgo--penniless--_to him_!"

He lay looking at her down-bent head with its splendid masses of darkhair, at the beautiful lines of her neck in her low-cut working frock ofblue-and-white print, at the shapely young hands gripping each otherwith unconscious tenseness in her lap. His eyes were like a woman's forunderstanding, and his lips were very tender. Slowly he raised himselfto his feet. 

"Stay just where you are, daughter, " he said, "till I come back. "

She waited, staring at the old crimson pillow with eyes which saw againthe drawing-room in Aunt Olivia's apartment and the profile of DoctorCraig's face as he turned from her at Chester Crofton's interruptingquestion. That was more than three weeks ago----

Father Davy was gone some little time, but he came back at length athis slow, limping pace, and sat down upon the couch. He held in his handa little bag of dark blue silk, a little bag whose contents seemed allheavily down in one corner. Georgiana's eyes regarded it with somewonder. She had thought she knew by heart every one of her father's fewbelongings, but this little bag was new to her. 

"I think, " he said softly, "the time has come for this. It was meant, perhaps, to be given you a little later in your history, but if yourmother knew--nay, I feel she does know and approve--she would be thefirst to say to me: '_Give it to her now, David; she'll never want itmore than now. _'"

Georgiana leaned forward, her lips parted. She seemed hardly to breatheas her father went on, his slender fingers gently caressing the littleblue silk bag:

"From the time you were a baby, a very little baby, she saved this moneyfor you. It came mostly from wedding fees; I always gave her those to dowith as she would. They were a country minister's fees--two-and-three-dollarfees mostly--once in a great while some affluent farmer would pay mefive dollars. How your mother's eyes would shine when I could give her afive! She turned all the bills and silver into gold--a great many ofthese pieces are one-dollar gold pieces. There are none of them incirculation now; it may easily be that they have increased in value, being almost a curiosity in these days. I think I have heard ofsomething like that. At any rate, dear, it is all yours. It was to havebeen given to you to buy your wedding outfit; but--she would have wantedyou to have it when it could help you most. " He held out the little bag. "She made it of a bit of her wedding dress, " he said, and his handtrembled as it was extended toward his daughter. "It was not only herwedding dress, it was the best dress she had for many years. "

With a low cry that was like that of a mother's for a child, Georgianatook the little blue silk bag, heavy in its corner with the weight ofmany small gold pieces, and crushed it against her lips. Then, with itheld close to her cheek, she laid her head down on her father's knee andsobbed her heart out for the mother she had missed for ten long years. 

In the little bag there proved to be almost a hundreddollars--ninety-two in all. 

"She sorely wanted to get it to a hundred, " said Father Davy, when heand Georgiana, their eyes still wet, had counted the tarnished goldpieces that had waited so long to be delivered to their owner. "Thereseemed a dearth of marriages the year before she went; the sum increasedvery slowly. "

"She must have gone without--things she needed, " Georgiana said withdifficulty. 

"I think she did, but she would never own it. She was very clever, asyou are, at making things over and over, and she looked always trim andfine. She was a beautiful woman--and a happy one, in spite of all shewas deprived of in her life with a poor country minister. 'If my littledaughter can only be as happy as I have been, ' she used to say, 'it isall I ask. ' My dear, she would have liked--she would have loved--Mr. Jefferson. I can't get over calling him that, " he added, with hiswhimsical smile struggling to shine through the tears which would notquite be mastered. 

"O Father Davy!" was all Georgiana could say. But she lifted a flushedand lovely face with all manner of womanly qualities written in it, andkissed her father on brow and cheek and lips, as she would have kissedher mother at such words as those. 

 * * * * *

"I wonder, " said Mr. Warne, sitting comfortably in the Pullman chair hisdaughter had insisted upon, "if I can possibly be awake, not dreaming. Inever thought to take another journey. "

"He said it wouldn't hurt you, and it's not. You're not too tired? Ihaven't seen you look so well for a long time, " declared his daughter. 

The eyes of other passengers, across the aisle, were irresistibly drawnto these two travelers--the frail, intellectual-looking man with hiscurly gray hair and his gentle blue eyes, his worn but carefully keptgarments, his way of turning to his daughter at every change ofscene--the daughter herself, with her face of charm under the close hatwith its veil, her clothing the suit of dark summer serge with its linesof distinction, which was still doing duty as the only presentablestreet suit she possessed. 

They were a more than commonly interesting pair, these travelers, andthey were furtively watched from behind more than one newspaper. 

Georgiana had no eyes for possible observers. With Father Davy shepreferred to sit with her chair turned toward the window, looking out atthe hills and trying to realize the thing which was happening. She wasactually on her way to the home of a man whom a month ago she hadthought gone out of her life forever. And, even now, he had not spoken aword of love to her, had not asked her to marry him! Yet he was to meether at the end of this short journey; she was to look out upon theplatform and see that distinguished figure standing there, waiting forher--for her, Georgiana Warne, maker of rugs for small sums of money, wearer of other people's cast-oft clothing, undistinguished by anythingin the world--except by being the daughter of a real saint; and that wasmuch after all. Fate had not left her without the best beginning inlife, the being brought into it by such a father and mother--bless them!

The hours flew by, the train passed through the outlying towns and cameat last to the monster city. The lights within the car and without werebright as they drew into the great station. Following the porter whocarried Mr. Warne's worn black bag and his daughter's fine one--givenher by Aunt Olivia that summer--her arm beneath her father's, Georgianamade her way through the car, into the vestibule, out upon the platform. No sight of Doctor Craig rewarded the hurried glance she gave about her. But before she could take alarm a fresh-faced young man in the livery ofa chauffeur came up to her, saying respectfully:

"I beg pardon, is it Miss Warne?" And upon her assent he said rapidly:"Doctor Craig bid me say he was called to a case he could not refuse, but he hopes to be home soon. I am to take you up and to see to yourluggage. "

"We have no luggage but these bags, " Georgiana told him, wondering for amoment how he had recognized her so readily, then understanding thatthough she herself might be a figure indistinguishable by descriptionfrom many another, that of Father Davy could not fail of recognition byone who had been told what to expect. 

"I have a chair here for the gentleman, " the man said, and he indicatedone of the station chairs attended by a red-capped porter. 

Mr. Warne, being wheeled rapidly through the great station, lookedabout him with the eager eyes of a boy. It was twenty years--twenty longand quiet years, since he had been in New York. What had not happenedsince then? In spite of the myriad descriptions he had read and pictureshe had studied, the effect upon him of the real city, as, having beentransferred from the chair to a small but luxurious closed car, he wasconveyed along the thronged, astonishingly lighted streets, wasoverwhelming. Suddenly he closed his eyes and laid his head back againstthe cushioned leather. 

Georgiana bent anxiously toward him. "Are you frightfully tired, Fatherdear? Are you--faint?"

His eyes opened and his lips smiled reassuringly. "A little tired, mydear, and very much dazed, but not upset in any way. I shall be glad tosleep--and glad to wake in this wondrous city. "

CHAPTER XXII

TOASTS

They drove downtown for many blocks, turning at last into an old andstill notable square which is one of the great town's almost untouchedresidence districts, in the very heart of its teeming commercial life. Here, all at once, the noise of traffic was quieted. Only as a distantand not too disturbing murmur came the sounds of the warfare which ragedso near. At one of the dingy but still stately old houses the car drewup, the chauffeur alighted and opened the door. He escorted thetravelers up the steps and rang the bell. 

The door was opened by a lad in plain livery, and he was reinforcedimmediately by a middle-aged housekeeper who came forward and took theguests in charge. She had a rosy face and iron-gray hair and her accentwas distinctly Scotch. 

"I am Mrs. MacFayden, Doctor Craig's hoose-keeper, " she said. "DoctorCraig is mair than sorry not to be here to greet ye baith. He tell't meto say ye should mak' yersels quite at hame, and should hae yer dinnerswi'oot waitin' for him. If Maister Warne should be tae weary tae sit uplonger, he should gang awa' tae his bed. I know Doctor Craig will mak'all the haste posseeble, but 'tis seldom he can carry oot his ain plans, for the press o' sick folks aifter him day an' nicht. "

"Doctor Craig is very kind, " said Mr. Warne. "If it will not seemdiscourteous I think I shall lie down upon my bed, for I am notaccustomed to travel and am a little tired. "

"That wull be the best thing posseeble for ye, " said the kindlyhousekeeper, leading the way upstairs. "Tammas, ye'll bring the luggage. I should advise, Maister Warne, havin' a small tray in your room an'then attemptin' no mair than juist tae see Doctor Craig, when he coomstae say gude nicht. "

She led her guests into a large, square, pleasant room, furnished withold mahogany. A cheery fire was burning in a fireplace. She opened asecond door, and showed a connecting room, of lesser size but veryattractive. 

"The Doctor often has special patients stayin' in these rooms, " shesaid, "but fortunately they were emptied three days agone, and kept forye. The Doctor has always some puir soul he wants to mak' comfortable. I'm glad 'tis guests this time he has, an' no patients. He needs toforget his wark when he cooms hame, but 'tis seldom he has theopportunity. "

She left them, saying that if the Doctor had not returned by eight shewould serve dinner for Miss Warne alone. 

"No, please, Mrs. MacFayden, " begged Georgiana. "If my father has histray here I will see him to his bed. I really do not care for dinner atall. "

The housekeeper smiled. "The Doctor would na' be pleased wi' me, if Ilet ye go dinnerless, " she said. "But I'm thinkin' we'll see him soon. Wull ye coom doon to the library, Miss Warne, when ye're ready? 'Tis thedoor at the right o' the front entrance. The door on the left is thewaitin' room, an' the Doctor does na' keep office hours at nicht. "

With a fast-beating heart Georgiana set about making ready for thatdescent to the library. The whole affair was becoming more and more astrain upon her nerves. If Doctor Craig had met them at the station itwould have been far easier for her than this. But here she was, actuallyin his house, combing her hair in his guest-room, going down to dinnerat his table--and she had not seen or heard from him, except bytelegram, since the hour when he had given her hand that meaningpressure and left her with her friends. It was an extraordinaryexperience, to say the least. 

She wondered how she should dress for dinner--the dinner that she mighteat alone! She had only her traveling suit and one simple little graysilk, dyed from a white "Semi-Annual" and made very simply, with a widecollar and cuffs of white net. Anybody but Georgiana would have lookedlike a Quakeress in the gray silk, but with her dark hair and warmcolouring she succeeded only in imitating a young nun but just removedfrom scenes of worldly gayety! She decided that the hour and theoccasion called for this frock, and put it on with fingers which shook alittle. 

Eight o'clock. She dared wait no longer, so, making sure that herfather, having eaten and drunk, was resting luxuriously on his bed, sheopened her door. The house seemed very quiet, and she went slowly alongthe upper hall, and after pausing a moment at the top of the finestaircase with its white spindles and mahogany rail, she began todescend. The steps were heavily padded and her footfall made no sound;therefore, as she afterward realized, a very close watch must have beenkept, for the moment she came in sight of the open library door a figureappeared there. 

The next moment Jefferson Craig had crossed the hall and was standing atthe foot of the staircase, looking up at the descending guest. Theguest, naturally enough, paused, four stairs up, looking down. Thelight, from a quaint lantern hood of wrought iron and crystal hangingabove the newel post, shone full upon the dark head and vivid faceabove the demure gray frock with its nunlike broad collar and cuffs ofthin white. 

The man below looked for a full minute without speaking, but Georgianacould not have told what expression was upon his face or whether hesmiled. She knew that at the end of that long look he stretched one armtoward her, and that obeying the gesture which was all but a command shecame on down those four remaining steps. Jefferson Craig led her intothe library, where a great fire sparkled and leaped and filled the room, otherwise sombre with books, full of welcoming cheer. He closed thedoor, then led her to the hearth. 

"Where shall we begin?" he said, in that low but very distinct voice sheso well remembered. "Where we left off?"

"I'm not, " answered Georgiana, looking away from him into the fire, whose light flashed in her eyes less disconcertingly than that which shesomehow knew leaped in his, "sure where we left off. "

"Aren't you? I am. We left off where we had each seen, for just oneinstant, into the other's heart. And having seen there was noforgetting--no?--Georgiana?"

She shook her head. 

"It was good of you to come to me, " he said very gently. Her hand wasstill held fast in his. "I did my best to have it the other way--theusual way. There seemed a fate against it. I could have written, butsomehow I didn't want to. I preferred to wait--with the memory of yourface always before me, till I could see it again. And now that I seeit--bent down--and turned away"--he laughed a low laugh of content--"oh, look up, Georgiana! Surely you're not afraid now. You know I've beenloving you ever since I saw you first, in spite of thinking I must not, because of the one I understood you belonged to----"

She looked up then out of sheer astonishment. "Oh, no, not since you sawme first, " she disputed. "It couldn't be--and I thinking all thewhile----" She stopped in confusion at the revelation she might bemaking. 

But he caught her up. "You thinking all the while--what? Tell me!"

"I thought--you hadn't the least interest in me. "

"Did you care whether I had or not?"

"I--tried not to care, " confessed Georgiana naïvely. She smiled, asparkling little smile. It was so clear now, that he wanted thisconfession. 

He looked at her for a minute longer, then he said: "Don't you thinkenough has been said to warrant--this?"

It was then that Georgiana learned how little one may judge from outwardquiet of manner and controlled speech what may happen when the heart isallowed to speak for itself. 

"Forgive me, " he said at last, when he had released her, all enchantingconfusion under his intent gaze; "but you know the breaking up of afamine sometimes makes human beings hard to manage. If you could knowthe times I've watched you, when you were bent over my illegible fist ofcopy, and thought how I should like just to put my hand on yourbeautiful hair----"

A knock sounded upon the door. With an exclamation of annoyance DoctorCraig left Georgiana and opened it. 

"Dinner is served, sir, " announced Thomas, the boy. 

His master turned back with a laughing, remorseful face. "I hadforgotten all about dinner, " he said, "though now I come to think of itI believe I had no luncheon. You must be famishing. Mrs. MacFayden tellsme your father is resting. We will go up and see him--before dinner orafter?"

"I think he will drop off to sleep for a little, he is so tired, andthen wake by and by and be ready to see you. "

"Good! It couldn't be better. I am eager to see Mr. Warne, but I wanthim to be ready for me--who have so much to ask of him. Meanwhile--shallwe go?"

He offered her his arm, such graceful deference in his manner that shefelt afresh the wonder of his wish to transplant her from her world tohis. As they walked slowly through the dignified old hall he said in atone of great satisfaction: "Mrs. MacFayden has ventured to hint to memore than once that this house is of the sort which needs a mistress. To-night, when she saw me come in, she said to me very respectfully:'It's a gled day for ye, Doctor, an' now that I've seen the lassie I cancongratulate ye wi' all mae hert. She'll mak' a bonny lady to be at thehead o' the hoose, if ye'll permit me to say the thocht. ' I assure you, Georgiana, the conquest of my good Scottish housekeeper upon sight is nosmall achievement. "

"It must have been my gray gown and white cuffs, " suggested the girldemurely. 

He looked down at the hand resting on his arm. "Now that I have time tolook at anything but your face, " he said, "I see that you are wearingsomething very satisfying to the eye. I like simple things, such as Ihave always seen you wear. "

With inward astonishment and congratulation Georgiana thought of all thedyed and reconstructed "Semi-Annuals" which had marched in a frugalprocession across his vision during the past year. Suddenly she felt anaffection for the very frock she wore, difficult as had been itsachievement from the materials in hand. Certainly, women in beautifuland wonderful clothing, such as he saw daily, had had no chance with himagainst the attraction of herself in the cleverly adapted makeshifts ofher own fingers. It was the girl who had made the most of herself andher home out of her restricted means who had drawn to her side this manwhose judgment must approve his love or he could never love at all. 

Things hadn't been so unequal after all. The wise God, who had set herlife thus far in the midst of poverty, had given her with which to fightit the wit and resource which fashion weapons out of materials whichmore favoured mortals cast away. That greatest of gifts bestowed uponthe daughters of men had been hers--the creative touch. At last sherecognized it, and knew it for what it was. Using this good gift she hadlearned other things than the making of clothes!

A great warm surge of joy and understanding enveloped Georgiana Warne asJefferson Craig, having led her into the dining-room and placed herceremoniously in her chair, bent over her where she sat, saying softly:

"This place has been waiting a long time at the bachelor's board. Nowthat I see it filled--like this--I know how well worth while it's beento wait. "

He took the place opposite her. With a nod at the boy Thomas, hedismissed him for the moment. He looked across the table, rich with thefinest appointments in his house, arranged by a housekeeper who heartilyapproved his everyday simplicity of life, but who exulted to-night inthe chance to show the lady of his choice the fine old heirlooms ofsilver and damask which were to come to her. Smiling, he lifted adelicately chased goblet of water which stood beside his plate. 

"To my wife!" he said. 

Georgiana, raising the face of a rose, took up her own glass. She lookedat it a moment, her eyes like dark twin fires, her lips taking on lovelycurves. Then she lifted it toward the man opposite. 

"To--_you_!"

"Still afraid?" asked Jefferson Craig, watching her as one watches onlythat which is the delight of his eyes. "Never mind; I'll teach you byand by the word I want to hear. "

 * * * * *

Upstairs, the slender figure on the bed stirred from the brief sleepwhich had claimed it. Father Davy opened his eyes again upon the firelitroom and the pleasant comfort which surrounded him. 

"Before they come, " he thought, "I must tell my Father how I feel aboutit. I was too tired even to pray. But I am quite rested now. "

He slipped down gently to his knees and closed his eyes, folding histhin hands on the heavy white counterpane before him. 

"Dear God, " he said, "I have the desire of my heart--the answer to myprayers--and I am very glad to-night. Yet Thou knowest my heart isheavy, too--with longing for my Phoebe. Tell her, Father, that her childis happy in the love of the best man she could have asked for. And tellher that David loves and longs for her to-night with the love that willnever die. For that love that will not die in spite of years and pain Ithank Thee. If it may be, give our child the same blessed experience. And teach us to love and serve Thee, world without end, Amen. "

CHAPTER XXIII

WHY NOT?

"There's just one more thing to be settled, " observed Dr. JeffersonCraig. "While we are settling things, suppose we attend to that. "

He stood upon the hearthrug before the fire in his library, elbow onchimney piece, looking down upon his two guests. It was eight o'clock ofthe evening following that upon which Mr. David Warne and Georgiana hadarrived at the big New York house in the old-time, downtown square. Although they had been under the hospitable roof for more thantwenty-four hours it was the first occasion on which the three had beentogether for more than a few minutes at a time. 

On the previous evening in an upstairs room had been enacted a littlescene which would live forever in the memories of them all; but DoctorCraig, perceiving with trained eyes the signs of growing fatigue in hisfrail friend after the unwonted strain of the day and its necessarilyemotional climax, had gently but firmly insisted on withdrawing at anearly hour. Georgiana had remained with her father, herself content tohave the strange and wonderful day end in the old, simple, and naturalway in which her days had ended for so long. She had felt, as sheperformed her customary daughterly offices for the beloved invalid, thatshe had quite enough to take with her to her own pillow to insure itsbeing the happiest upon which she had ever laid her head. 

They had seen little of Doctor Craig on the following day; but he hadtaken dinner with them that night, and as he had brought them back tothe library fire he had given stringent directions to the boy Thomasthat he be disturbed only for the most important summons. And hardly hadthe trio taken their places in the pleasant room before Jefferson Craigmade his statement that there was something still unsettled in theiraffairs. 

As he spoke he was looking down at Georgiana. It would have been strangeif he could have kept his eyes away from her to-night. Like a flower insunshine had she bloomed under the warm influence of the joy which hadcome to her when she least expected it. She was again wearing the littlegray silk frock, but now its nunlike simplicity was gone--and happilygone--for a bunch of glowing pink Killarney roses at her belt, placedthere by Doctor Craig's hands, lighted the plain costume into one of acharm which could no longer be called demure. 

"Something still to settle?" It was Father Davy who replied, forGeorgiana had no answer for that suggestion. One glance at DoctorCraig's face, as he said the words, had told her what was coming. 

"The most important thing of all. Everything else is in order. You, dearsir, have agreed to come and live with us. We are convinced that it'snot a sacrifice, except for the leaving of certain old friends. You havea zest still for seeing and hearing the things you have been denied;it's to be our keen pleasure to make your days go by on wings. You'regoing to have plenty of room here for the bookcases and the books, allthe furnishings you care to keep--in short, you're to live the old lifewith a fine new one as well. Altogether, everything is in train for thegreat change, except"--he crossed the hearthrug at a stride, and laid ason's hand upon the thin shoulder of Father Davy--"except the date ofit, " he finished, smiling down into the uplifted face. 

"But that, " replied Georgiana's father without hesitation, "is not forme to settle. It is for you two. "

Craig looked across at Georgiana and for a minute studied her down-bentprofile as she sat gazing into the flames; then came round to her, plucking a pillow from a big leather couch by the way, to drop it at herfeet and throw himself down upon it. So placed he could look straightinto her face. "You'll have to take an interest in the ceiling now ifyou succeed in avoiding me, " he said, with a low laugh. 

"I don't want to avoid you, " answered Georgiana, and let her eyes meethis fairly for an instant. She could not yet do this in a quite casualway. 

He crossed his arms upon her knee, sitting in a boyish attitude andlooking not unlike a big boy for the moment, for all the lines of carewere gone from his face in the soft firelight, and happiness had laidits rosy mantle over his shoulders as over hers. He began to speakrather quickly:

"For the life of me, I can't think of a reason why you should go backand spend a winter in the same old grind, waiting till springand--making me wait till spring. Why should anybody wait till spring?I've let you talk about all the work you were going to do this winter athome, but that was just because I didn't want to make you feel as if youwere caught in a trap. I had an idea that for a few hours, anyhow, itmight seem enough of a change to come down here and promise to marry aperfect stranger of a surgeon instead of the 'literary light' you knew. I thought we'd let it go at that for those few hours. But now--itdoesn't seem to me possible to go back to bachelorhood again, even withsuch a prospect before me in the spring. Not after having tasted--this. Georgiana, why must I?"

Her face was the colour of her roses. There was no getting away from thechallenge of those eyes that watched her so steadily--not even byfollowing his suggestion and gazing persistently ceilingward. Craigglanced at Father Davy, to find that his soft blue eyes showed no signof shock, and that his face was perfectly placid as he looked andlistened. 

The younger man went on, coming straight to the point: "Georgiana, marryme before you go back! You've promised to stay a week. Let's have awedding here, next Wednesday. Then we'll leave Father Davy herecomfortably with Mrs. MacFayden, and run up to see about getting thingspacked and shipped. I'll take that much of a vacation now. Then, inApril, we'll go abroad for a real honeymoon and take Father Davy withus. I'd propose that now, but the seas are stormy in December andJanuary and we mustn't risk it for him. But, let's not wait! Why shouldwe? Now, honestly, why should we?"

The girl turned her face, with a strange little look of appeal, towardher father, to meet such a look of entire comprehension as stirred herto the depths. Suddenly, obeying an impulse she did not understand, shedrew herself gently away from Craig, rose and went to the figure in thebig chair opposite. She sat down on the arm and, bending, dropped herface upon the fatherly shoulder, hiding it there. Craig sat perfectlystill, watching the pair, as Father Davy put up a thin, white hand andpatted the dark head. Then the two men smiled at each other. 

After a while Craig got up and quietly left the room. 

By and by Father Davy whispered: "What is it, dear? You're not ready?You shall not be hurried. Or is it----"

She spoke into his ear. "I want to go back home--and earn--andearn--enough to----"

"Can you earn it, daughter? Can you ever get enough ahead to providewhat you would like? And meanwhile--he wants you very much, my dear. Ithink I know more of his heart than you do, in way. Last winter we hadcertain talks that showed me a little of that. Would it be such a blowto pride to do as he asks? Unless--in other ways you are not ready. Ifyour love for him isn't quite mature enough yet----"

"Oh, it isn't that; it's mature enough. It--it hasn't grown, in spite ofme, all this year like--a--tumbleweed"--her voice was a littlebreathless--"not to have got its growth----"

"Its first growth, " amended her father, with a meaning smile. 

She nodded. "But--if you could know how I want--time to make the mostof--what mother left me. I could do so much if I just had time. If Iused it now I should have to use it up so fast! There'll be fiftydollars left when we get back. I could almost make that do, if--no, ofcourse I couldn't. But I could earn more. O Father Davy, is it wrong ofme to be so proud?"

"Not wrong, my girl, but very natural, I suppose. Yet to me--well, dear, I hardly know how to say what I feel. I confess I should like to see youmarried to this man. Life is--so short----"

They sat together in silence for a time; then Georgiana slipped backinto the seat where she had been. 

Presently Father Davy said that it had been a full day, and that hethought he should be fitter for the morrow if he should go to bed. Georgiana went up with him, saw him comfortably resting, listened whilehe whispered something in her ear as she bent above him, kissed him withher heart on her lips, and finally stole like a mouse down the stairsagain. 

When she came into the library once more it was to find herself in armswhich held her close. "Do you think I don't understand, my dearest?"said the low voice which had such power to move her. "Do you think Idon't respect and love you for your perfectly natural feeling about itall? But, Georgiana, you bring me a dowry bigger than any I could askfor--the inheritance from such a father as he is--and from the motherwho gave you all he left her to give. What are towels and tablecloths--Idon't know what it is brides bring!--beside such things as these? Won'tyou give me the real thing, and let me furnish the ones that don'tcount? Dear, if you could know the pleasure there is for me in the verythought of buying you--a hat!"

She could but smile, his tone put so much awe into the word. Suddenlyshe grew whimsical; it was so like Georgiana to do that when she wasdeeply stirred!

"What do you suppose that hat was made of, I wore here?" she asked him. "I'll tell you. I found the shape for twenty-five cents at the villagemilliner's. I cut it down and sewed it up again into another shape. ThenI hunted through the old 'Semi-Annuals'; you don't know what those are, do you? I found a piece of velvet that had been a flounce. I steamed itand covered the shape. Then I had to have some trimming. It came from anold evening cloak of my Cousin Jeannette's--a bit of gilt, a silk rose, some ribbon from--I can't tell you what it came from, but it had to bedyed to match the velvet. I couldn't quite get the shade. But the hat, when it was done, wasn't so bad. "

"Where is it now?"

"Upstairs in my room. "

"Would you mind getting it?"

She laughed, hesitated, finally ran upstairs and down again, the hat inhand. Pausing before an old gilt mirror in the hall she put it on, thencame to him, lifting her head with a proud and merry look which badehim beware how he might venture to criticise the work of her hands. 

Adjusting his eyeglasses with care, he viewed it judicially. "It looksvery nice to me, " he said. "Suppose you keep it on and put on a coat andlet me take you out in the car for a few minutes. There's a certainwindow uptown I should like to look at, with you. "

"I have no coat, " she said steadily, and now the colour ebbed a littlefrom her warm cheek, "except the one that belongs with the suit I wore. It's short; it wouldn't do to wear with a dress like this. "

"I see. " Suddenly he came close again, gently lifted the hat from thedark masses of her hair, laid it carefully on a table near by, and drewher with him to a broad, high-backed couch at one side of the fire. 

"I can see, " he said, very quietly, "that you and I have much to do ingetting to know each other. Let's lose no time in beginning. Listen, while I try to tell you what marriage means to me--and to find out whatit means to you. "

It was a long talk, and, by the kindness of the fates which rule overthe irregular schedule of the men of Craig's profession, anuninterrupted one. Long before it was over Georgiana learned many newthings concerning the man who was to be her husband, not the least ofwhich was his power of making others see as he saw, feel as he felt, andbelieve, from first to last, in his absolute integrity of motive. Andwhen he told her what he thought he could do for her father if he shouldhave him under his eye during the coming winter, the period which wasalways so long and trying for the sensitive frame of the invalid, whoseresisting powers were at their lowest when the winter winds wereblowing, she gave way and the question was settled. 

But she did not give way in everything after all, nor did he ask her todo so. When he suggested details of preparation, and she shook her head, he smiled and told her it should all be as she wished. And when he said, very gently, that he hoped she would let him provide her with the meansto buy whatever she might need, because everything that he had was hersalready, he took with a submission that was all grace her refusal to usea penny of his until she should bear his name. If he made certainreservations of his own as to what might happen when he should hold theright, that did not show. 

"So that I get you, dearest, " he said at the end of the evening, justbefore he let her go, "I am willing to take you in any sort of packageyou may select for yourself. Personally it seems to me that jeweller'scotton is the most appropriate background for you, if you won't have asatin-and-velvet case!"

At which Georgiana laughed, and assured him that she was no real jewel, only one of the secondary stones, and uncut at that. The answer she gotto this sent her off upstairs with thrilling pulses, to lie awake for along time, recalling his voice and look as he said the few suddenlygrave words which had given her a glimpse of his bare heart. 

CHAPTER XXIV

MAGIC GOLD

The days which followed were to be remembered with peculiar delight allGeorgiana's life. Each morning, in Doctor Craig's own car, accompaniedby her father, she went shopping. Mr. Warne could not use his strengthin following her into the shops, but he could sit at ease in a corner ofthe luxurious, closed landau, an extra pillow tucked behind his back, anelectric footwarmer at his feet, his slender form wrapped in a wonderfulfur-lined coat which his son-in-law to-be had put upon him with thereasonable explanation that it had proved to be too small for himself. From this sheltered position he could watch the hurrying crowds, studythe faces and find untiring interest in the happenings of the streets. 

Not the smallest part of his pleasure lay in receiving his daughteragain each time she came hurrying out of some great portal, the tiniestof packages under her arm. Although Duncan, Doctor Craig's chauffeur, was always watching, ready to jump from his seat and assist her, she wasusually too quick for him to be of much use, though she always gave himher friendly smile and thanks for his eagerness. It may be said thatDuncan himself, a young Scotsman whose devotion to his master was nowaugmented by his admiration of his master's choice, enjoyed thoseshopping expeditions with an unusual zest. 

"Oh, but these shops are wonderful, Father Davy!" Georgiana was fain tocry, as she came back with her purchases. "Of course I have to shut myeyes and simply fly past the counters where I'd like to buy everythingin sight. But I do find such glorious little bargains, such treasures ofleft-overs--you can't think how I'm making my money hold out! I'm sothankful for all my training in turning and twisting; it's such a helpjust now!"

If Father Davy rejoiced within himself that the days of "left-overs" forGeorgiana were all but past and that there was to be no more "turningand twisting, " at least with material things, he did not say so. Insteadhe surveyed the contents of the small packages with eyes which werenearly as bright as hers, and made her supremely content with hisapproval. 

The climax of the shopping came on the morning of the third day. Georgiana returned to the car after a more than usually long absence, during which, for the first time, Mr. Warne had become slightly weary ofusing his eyes in watching the ever-moving throng, and had dropped off, in his warm corner, into a little refreshing nap. He wakened to findGeorgiana beside him, the car moving uptown by a less congested routethan they had taken before, and his daughter's hand firmly clasping his. 

He looked round at her and saw, to his surprise and dismay, that herheavy lashes were thick with tears. But she smiled through them, andbade him wait to hear the reason until they were in the Park, where eachmorning a drive, according to Doctor Craig's suggestion, was takenbefore the swift run back to the downtown square. 

The moment they were well within the precincts and had entered upon theless frequented drive which she had asked for, Georgiana turned to herfather. She held up something before him, and, looking at it, hediscovered the little old bag of dark blue silk which her mother hadfashioned from her own wedding gown, and which had contained thetreasured gold pieces which had made it possible for Georgiana to have awedding gown of her own. 

"It's nearly empty now, " said the girl softly. "It's bought so much, Father Davy; I've begun to think it was magic gold! Everybody--all theshopgirls and women--have helped me spend it. It was as if they knew Imust make it go a long way and wanted to do it. I really think"--shegave a tremulous little laugh--"it was a good thing I wasn't dressed tomatch the car I came in, or they never would have taken the trouble tohunt up the things I wanted--at the prices I could pay. The fact that Ilooked like a shopgirl, too, was such a help!"

"A shopgirl!" repeated her father. "You, my dear? What would Jeffersonsay to that? No matter how you were dressed you could not possibly lookanything but what you are. "

"Oh, but, Father Davy, dear, you don't know what many and many of theshopgirls, especially these city girls, look like. There are suchbeautiful faces among them, such soft voices, such really charmingmanners. Of course there are plenty of the other kind, the cheap andcommon sort, but so many of the nice kind! I don't mind looking likesome of them, indeed I don't. And the fact that I'm wearing this littleold summer serge suit, now in December, with this hat, which any clevergirl would know I made myself--well, it has helped me to interest theirsympathies in my search. And now I've found"--her voice sank--"I'vefound what I couldn't have expected to find in all New York. And I'm soglad--so glad--I can't tell you. Look!"

She slowly unwrapped a long, slim, cylinderlike parcel, and brought toview what it contained. Inclosed in its pasteboard protector, to keep itunwrinkled in its soft perfection, lay a roll of dark blue silk, of asmall brocaded pattern. 

Georgiana silently laid the little blue-silk bag upon it, and held upthe two so that her father could see how close was the resemblance. Thecolour was precisely the same, making allowances for the slight dimmingof age; while the design of the brocade was so similar that the twomight have been made in the same period, if not by the same hand. 

Mr. Warne studied the two fabrics intently for a moment, then lookedinto his daughter's eyes. He was too moved to speak. When she herselfcould talk again composedly she told him what she meant to do. The bluesilk, made by her own hands in the three days left her, was to be herwedding gown. She had bought a little fine lace, fit for such a use, with which to make the finishing; and no matter what Doctor Jeffersonmight think of such a substitute for the customary bridal attire, forherself she should be far happier than in the finest white silk or satinthat could be bought. 

"God bless you, my little girl!" Father Davy murmured, wiping his eyes, their clear blue depths misty. 

His thin hand clasped the little blue bag again, his heart ached withthe sorrow which is part joy and with the joy which is part sorrow. Nothing his Phoebe's daughter could have done would have proclaimed herso truly the child of her mother as this unexpected act. He looked againand again at the roll of blue silk in Georgiana's lap. 

"How strange it seems that you could find it, " he said, "now wheneverything is so different from the fashions of twenty-five years ago. "

"It's a revival, the silk man said. He explained that the styles of themoment call for the fabrics and patterns of the past, and that it's aconstant revolution, bringing back every once in so often what isold-fashioned between times. But he himself was surprised that the verynewest thing on his shelves was the one that matched the old. I think hewas almost as pleased as I was--without knowing anything about it, except that I was very anxious to find the silk. And now to hurry homeand make it!"

Her unconscious use of the word "home" struck pleasantly upon Mr. Warne's ears. He himself was beginning to feel very much at home in theold square. Small wonder, since he had found there the son he had longedfor all his married life. 

Back at the house Georgiana fell to work without delay. She had toldMrs. MacFayden her intention, and had enlisted the warm interest of thatmotherly Scotswoman. She had offered Doctor Craig's young guest the useof her own sitting-room, with that of the sewing-machine which stoodthere, and here presently Georgiana unrolled her breadths of silk andlaid upon them the pattern she had selected. 

And now, indeed, she was glad of the long training in the dressmaker'strade, glad of the clever art she had cultivated for so many years. Itwas to her a simple enough matter to fashion herself a dress whichshould be in form and line all that could be desired. To do it out ofunbroken yards of material, without necessity for piecing and patching, was a delightful novelty. To accomplish it in three days was only amatter of working at top speed, with fingers which flew at the behest ofa brain which also worked like magic at its task. 

During this period Doctor Craig himself was more than ordinarily busy, to judge by his infrequent appearances at his home. For those last threedays before his marriage he was out of town, returning only on theevening preceding the date set. But Georgiana found no lack in him as alover, for during the brief moments when he could be with her he madethe most of his opportunity, letting her see plainly that she was alwaysin his thoughts, and giving her every evidence that he was the happiestof expectant bridegrooms. Each day a great box of flowers was brought toher, in which she revelled as she had only dreamed of doing. While hewas away he called her up each evening on the telephone, managing tosend her somehow, over the wire, a sense of his nearness and hisdevotion. Altogether those few days brought to Georgiana an experienceunique in a lifetime, and one which she would gladly have prolonged. 

Then, it seemed quite suddenly, it was Wednesday morning, and the sunwas shining brilliantly in at Georgiana's windows over a thousandroof-tops. The marriage was to occur at noon, because, for a bride whosebridal finery was limited to a little frock of dark blue silk and whosetraveling attire was the plainest of ready-to-wear suits and simplest ofsmall hats, without furs or furbelows of any sort, it seemed the onlyfitting hour. 

It had been arranged that the two essential witnesses to the ceremonyshould be two close friends of Doctor Craig's, an elderly couple whosename, if the Warnes had known, was one of the old names of the city, standing for the bluest of blue Knickerbocker blood, though for onlymoderate wealth and for no ostentation whatever. Georgiana had beggedthat no other guests be asked, being anxious, on her father's account, to have the whole affair over with the least possible agitation for him. To this Doctor Craig had cordially agreed. 

At eleven o'clock, however, a third guest arrived, a most unexpectedguest, who with a ruddy, eager face, came running up the old stone stepsof the house, a great florist's box under his arm. He demanded of theboy Thomas instant entrance, and waved back at a taxicab driver thesummons to bring along a much larger box which was nearly filling thatvehicle. 

Georgiana, peeping out of her father's window, beheld, and was off anddown the stairs before Thomas could fairly begin his explanation thatMiss Warne was engaged and could not be intruded upon at this hour. 

"O Jimps!"

"Well, well, George! You came pretty near giving me the slip, didn'tyou? But not quite--thanks to Doctor Craig. "

Georgiana showed her surprise. "Did he let you know?"

She had led him instantly inside the library and had unconsciouslyclosed the door all but in the face of the interested Thomas, ignoringboth florist's box and big package, which that young man would havebrought in to her. She had both hands on James Stuart's shoulders, andwas looking him straight in the eyes, which looked as straightly back. If there had ever been the beginning of romance between these two, clearly it was far in the background now. Never did brother and sisterface each other with their relationship more clearly defined. 

"I should say he did--since you didn't! What did you mean by trying tosteal a march on us all like this? Jeannette is furious, though ofcourse she isn't strong enough to come, wild though she is to do it. Shewanted me to tell you that she'll have revenge when she gets about, andthat you won't escape her wedding presents. Meanwhile she's sent yousomething she had on hand, because there was no time to get anythingelse. She thought you would find a use for it somehow. She sent her lovewith it--and I can tell you that's pretty valuable. "

"Of course it is! Jimps, I'm so pleased, so wonderfully pleased that youare here--I can't tell you!"

"Then, why in the name of old friendship didn't you send for me?" Stuartdemanded, for plainly this still rankled. "Evidently Doctor Craig hadmore belief in that than you did. "

"I wanted to, indeed I did, Jimps, dear, but I thought--I wassure--well----"

Stuart laughed. "Thought I wanted to save every penny for my ownwedding, eh? I rather guess I can squander a few on yours. I wouldn'thave missed it for worlds, though I'd give a good deal if _my_sweetheart could have been here, too--and so would she, bless her! She'scoming on splendidly, George--looks almost herself again. In a monthmore her doctor will let up on restrictions. "

They talked fast, with an eye on the library clock, and when its deep, slow chime proclaimed the half-hour Georgiana rose. 

"I must go now. Come and stay with father till the hour arrives, willyou? It will steady him to see you. Not but that he seems as serene asever, but I know inside it's a pretty big strain for him. "

"All right, I'd like nothing better, since I can't see you any longer. Where's the principal man for this occasion, anyhow? Can he take thetime to be married, or is he liable to send up word he's detained? Youcan't put your finger on these popular surgeons till they're here. "

"I had a telephone message from him an hour ago, " Georgiana assured him, with a conscious little smile. "I really think he'll be here, though nottill the last minute, probably. "

"If he isn't I'll go after him with a gun. If he doesn't show up I'dmarry you myself if it wasn't for a previous engagement, " dared Stuart, with a happy laugh. 

"Never! If I couldn't have my man I'd never marry anybody, " shewhispered, as she turned to look back at him for an instant, her hand onthe library door. 

Stuart caught the hand, and whispered back: "George, is it like thatwith you, too?" She nodded. His face flamed. "It's wonderful, isn't it?Unbelievable!"

She nodded again. They looked into each other's faces, smiling through amist of happiness, then Georgiana flung open the door and ran out intothe hall. 

Stuart followed, caught up the big box and ran after her up the stairs. "Here, " he said under his breath, as they reached the top, "be sure toopen this before you go. Jean wanted you to wear it away with you; shesaid you'd be sure to need it, traveling. It's a beauty; it just camehome for her. "

He gave her the big box at the door of her room, while she pointed himdown the hall to her father's door. He patted her arm with a brotherlygesture, and hurried along. 

Inside her room, with a glance at the clock, she opened the box. Underthe tissue lay a soft, luxurious-feeling mass, all dark blue cloth of avelvety texture, with glimpses of dark fur. She opened it, with a sighof pleasure, for it meant that now she might look fit to be Dr. Jefferson Craig's traveling companion, with this cloak, fur-lined, all-enveloping, to slip on over the plain little suit which was not halfwarm enough for severe winter weather. 

"It's the last of my 'Semi-Annuals, '" she said to herself, "and thebest. How dear of her! And oh, how good it is that Jimps is here! Now Ihave a family, a real family to see me married--a father and a brother!"

The clock again--warning her to fly. She had ever been rapid atdressing--she had never been quicker. A cold plunge--the second thatmorning, bringing the blood leaping--the donning of fair garments lyingready to her hand--the arrangement of hair in the old way, simplicityitself--then the slipping over her white shoulders of the blue silkgown. When it was fastened Georgiana went to stand by her window, looking out with eyes which did not see. 

CHAPTER XXV

GREAT MUSIC

"Wull ye be comin' soon, Miss Warne?" said the voice of Mrs. MacFaydenat her door. Georgiana opened it quickly, and the housekeeper entered, quietly resplendent in black silk with fine lace collar and cuffs, herhair in shining order, an expression of great solemnity on her face. 

"Mr. And Mrs. Peter Brandt are here, " she announced with impressiveness. "Doctor Craig is doonstairs with them; he cam' ten minutes ago. He bademe say he wad coom for ye himself when ye were ready. It's a gled dayfor him, Miss Warne, an' for us a'. "

Georgiana advanced, her heart very warm toward this good woman, who, asshe well knew, was quite as much the friend of Jefferson Craig as hishousekeeper, and well esteemed, even beloved by him. The girl cameclose. 

"Mrs. MacFayden, " she said, very low, "I have--no mother to kiss mebefore I go down. May I----"

The sentence was left unfinished, for with one step forward MaryMacFayden opened wide her arms, and for a long minute the two enfoldedeach other, while both hearts beat strongly. 

Then Georgiana, suddenly mindful that she must not let go for an instantof her self-control, pressed a kiss upon the fair, smooth cheek of theScotswoman, received one equally warm upon her own, and drew awaysmiling. "Thank you, " she murmured uncertainly. "I couldn't go withoutit. "

"Thet ye could na', lassie, " responded Mrs. MacFayden heartily. "Noo--wull I send the doctor up?"

"Just in a minute--when I have seen my father----"

Georgiana ran into his room from her own. A deep embrace, a lingeringkiss--while James Stuart looked out of the window, a lump suddenlyappearing from nowhere in his sturdy throat. 

Then Georgiana said softly at the young man's elbow: "Thank you againfor coming, Jimps. It's such a comfort to have my brother here. "

Before he could reply she was gone again. 

He led Mr. Warne downstairs, where Doctor Craig presented them both tothe Brandts--delightful people Stuart thought them, too--so simple andunaffected--almost like village people. 

As he stood waiting with them, in the same dignified big room which hehad been in before he went upstairs, he was conscious that in his briefabsence its character had changed. Library though it still was, with itsmassive bookcases filled with rows upon rows of finely bound books, ithad taken on a festal air. Great bowls of roses, deep crimson, glowingpink, rich amber, had been brought in; they stood on table, chimney-piece, and floor; hundreds of them it seemed to him there mustbe. He realized that Georgiana herself could not have seen them; theywould be a surprise to her. Evidently the simple little wedding was tohave a character all its own. 

With the quiet departure of Jefferson Craig from the room James Stuartwas all eyes for an appearance at the door. How would Georgiana come toher marriage? In shimmering white, he supposed, for that was thetraditional garb of all the brides he had ever seen--mostly villagegirls they were. Once, while at college, he had attended a city wedding, that of a classmate who had not been willing to wait till his collegecourse was finished. Stuart remembered how pale the bride had been; she, had looked as if she were going to faint. He hoped Georgiana would notlook like that: he could not conceive it. 

The next moment he saw her, entering the wide door, on Doctor Craig'sarm--the same Georgiana he had always known, as simply dressed, evenmore simply, he thought, though he had little time for looking at herdress, so held was his gaze by her face. Never could he have conceivedso radiant a bride. And then he thought--Jefferson Craig had gone upalone to bring her down. Stuart wondered if he himself could makeJeannette look like that, at such a moment. He thought he could!

Georgiana looked into Father Davy's eyes as she stood before him. He wasnot tall; his face was almost on a level with her own. It seemed to hershe had never seen eyes so clear, so blue, so comprehending. Her ownnever left them for a moment while the service lasted, until the closingprayer. 

Father Davy's voice, at first very slightly tremulous, gathered force ashe went on with the words he had spoken so many times, but never as hewas speaking them now--to his child, to Phoebe's child, and to the manof her choice. A little flush crept into his thin cheeks. More than oncehis eyes rested on the dark-blue silk which covered his daughter'sshoulders; the sight of it seemed to give him strength. 

When the service ended, and his voice sank into the words of prayer, thehand of Mr. Peter Brandt went for a moment to his eyes; Mrs. MacFaydenfelt suddenly for her handkerchief; James Stuart softly cleared histhroat, winking once or twice rather rapidly. Never had any of themheard just such a prayer as that. It was as if he who made it were verynear the invisible Presence whom he so tenderly and trustinglyaddressed. 

Stuart never forgot the moment when he looked for the first time intothe eyes of Jefferson Craig's newly made wife. For one instant hesuffered a pang of jealousy--a queer, irrational feeling. It was as ifhe had lost his friend, as if this star-eyed creature before him couldnever find room for him again in her full heart. But he knew better inthe next breath, for she lifted her face, ever so little, and with asense of deep relief he gave her the brotherly kiss she thus permitted. When he looked at Jefferson Craig he found that the keen, fine eyes wereregarding him with a very friendly intentness, and he wrung the handoffered him as he would have wrung the hand of a brother. 

"You're the luckiest man in this whole big town, " declared Stuart. Hislips had been dumb before Georgiana, but now he turned to her again. "George, there's no use trying to tell you how I feel about this. All Ican say is that nothing's too good for you--or for him. That's prettylame, but--whatever eloquence I'm capable of is tied up somewhere; Ican't get it out. "

"It's out, Jimps, dear, " she assured him. "Isn't it--Jefferson?"

"It certainly is--Jimps, " Craig answered heartily. "It was for just thatgenuine feeling that I sent for you. I knew we couldn't spare it. "

Stuart watched the pair eagerly during the next hour--the hour duringwhich the little party sat at the wedding breakfast which followed. Thetable was a round one, and his place was next the bride, so he missednothing. He had never been present on such an occasion, nor could haveguessed the beauty and charm of the setting wealth and art can give. Itwas perfection itself, arranged by whose hand he had no notion, but heunderstood well enough by whose order had been created all the simpleelegance which so well suited the house and the people. And as he lookedat Georgiana he said to himself:

"She fits into this as if she had been born to it. She _was_ born to it, for it's just the kind of thing she'd have made for herself if she'd hadthe means. No show, no fuss, just niceness! And it's the sort of thingmy wife shall have, somehow, even in the country, before long. We'll_bring_ this there; she'll know how. There's no patent on it. Blessher--how George deserves this! If only Jean could have been here. ButI'll tell her; I'll get it over to her. And she'll understand!"

At the end of the hour the car was at the door, and Georgiana was comingdown the stairs in her traveling clothes, her bridal bouquet on her arm. How those splendid roses had lighted up the little dark-blue frock!

"I've no bridesmaid to throw it to, " she said, extending it towardStuart. "Will you take it to Jeannette?"

"I should say I will. I'll be with her this evening; she made mepromise. " And Stuart received the offering with a glad hand. 

A long, silent clinging to her father was the only parting embrace forthis girl. If James Stuart longed for one of his own, after these yearsof friendship, he was obliged to be content with the lustrous look hehad from eyes lifted for a moment to his as Georgiana took her place inthe car, and with the lingering pressure her hand gave his, which spokeof love and loyalty. 

Then she was gone, with Jefferson Craig sending back at Stuart a specialbrilliant smile of gratitude for the office he had performed, that oftaking the place of the whole group of young people usually present onsuch occasions, saying good-bye with bared head and face of ardentdevotion, with the first light snowflakes of winter falling on his fairhair. 

"I can't believe I'm quite awake, " said Georgiana, by and by. She sat inone of the drawing-rooms of a fast train, the door closed, the curtainsdrawn between herself and the rest of the carful of passengers, and onlythe flying landscape beyond the window to tell of the world outside. 

Craig sat watching her; he seemed able to do nothing else. In his facewas the most joyous content; there seemed almost a light behind it. "Not awake?" was his amused comment. "I wonder why. Now I feeltremendously awake--after a long, uneasy sleep, in which I dreamed oflosing what I most wanted. "

"But it's not all strange to you as it is to me. I can't quite believethat there's nothing on my shoulders--no care, no anxiety, just--well, _your_ shoulders! Oh, but, " she went on hastily, "don't think that meansI want you to carry everything for me; indeed I don't. I want tocarry--half!"

"Ah, but that's it, " he answered. "My shoulders for your burdens, yoursfor mine. That way neither of us will feel half the weight of either. I'm not pretending that I shall give you a life of wholly shelteredease; it won't be that, and you don't want it, not in thisburden-bearing world. But--you shall have some things that you have beendenied, my brave girl! Georgiana, I can't tell you how it touchedme--the dress you made to be married in. "

Her eyes went down now before the look in his. 

"I'll tell you fairly that I longed with all my heart to take you tosome place worthy of your beauty and find a wedding gown for you--notnecessarily a very costly one, but one that should bring out all you arecapable of showing. But when I saw you, looking just yourself, in thesilk that was like your mother's, "--he leaned forward, taking both herhands in his and looking straight into her face, compelling her gaze tolift to his lest she should miss what she knew was there, --"I feltsomething inside my heart break wide open--with worship for you, little, strong, splendid spirit that you are!"

He pressed the hands against his lips. Then he touched two rings uponher left hand: exquisite and rare jewels were set in both engagement andwedding rings, after the modern fashion. But there was a third ringthere, guarding the others, a slender band of gold, worn thin by manyyears of hard, self-forgetting work--the ring which David Warne hadplaced twenty-seven years ago upon the hand of his bride. JeffersonCraig studied all three, turning them round and round upon the rosyfinger they encircled. 

Presently he spoke again, very gently: "My rings on your hand mean to melove and beauty, loyalty and truth. But her ring stands for all thatand--service. We need it there, to remind us what we owe the world welive in. She paid her debt; we'll pay ours, in memory of her. Bless herfor giving me her daughter!"

For a minute Georgiana could not speak. Then, with her dark eyessparkling through the mist of tears which had taken her unawares, sheseized his hand and lifted it to press her glowing cheek against it, saying passionately: "Oh, _how_ you understand!"

They were silent for a long time after that, while the train flew on, through the gathering darkness of the late December afternoon, into thenight. .. . 

Georgiana had supposed that they were to go at once to the old home, forshe knew that Craig could not be long away at this time, and there wasmuch to do there. But she found that instead of changing trains in thegreat city, sixty miles beyond which lay the home village, they wereleaving the station to be conveyed in a waiting car to a hotel. 

"If you had been spending all these years in cities, " was Craig'sexplanation, "I should have felt like plunging at once with you into thesolitude. But as it is--well, I wondered if we shouldn't like to hearsome great music to-night. Do you feel as I do--that there are timeswhen nothing but music can speak for you?"

"But you, " she said, "who live in the rush all the time----"

"There's no rush here for me, " he answered. "Nobody is likely to know mehere; I can forget the whole world in the midst of the crowd with youto-night. As for the music--I've been on short rations a good whilemyself. I think we can feast together, don't you?"

It was all a fairy tale to Georgiana, that evening in the city. Hercollege days had been spent in a small college town which, though it hadlain not many miles away from this same great metropolis, had seldomseen her leave it for the privileges which richer girls enjoyed at everyweek-end. 

As for the superb hotel to which Craig took her, although she had seenits impressive front, she had never so much as stood within its statelylobby. Now she experienced all sorts of queer little thrills, as shewatched the accustomed ease with which her husband led her through thebrief details of arrival and noted with what deference he was received. Evidently he had been expected, for there was no delay in the smoothservice which took them to an apartment reserved by wire, as Georgianagathered from a word she overheard. 

He was quite right; a touch of this was what she needed, as a bird longconfined needs a chance to stretch its wings. To this girl, with vividlife stirring in her pulses, the unaccustomed experience could but be adelight, with such a companion to show her the way. Every detail had itsown fascination, such as might never come again when she should be morewonted to such scenes. The dinner served in their own smalldrawing-room, the flowers which crowned the table, the blithe talk Craigmade during the little feast, with all its pretty, ceremonious detail ofservice; finally the short drive to the place where the great music, asCraig had called it, was to be heard--it all made a richly enchantingpicture in Georgiana's mind. 

When at length she sat beside her husband in the immense, silentaudience, listening to such splendid harmonies as only once or twice inher lifetime she had heard before, her heart was far too full for words. He did not ask them of her, understanding something of what was passingin her mind, though not even his more than ordinary powers of sympathycould have guessed at all that held her breathless through those hoursof supreme delight. 

Certain words of a Psalm, which she had often heard her father quote, came into her mind and repeated themselves over and over. She had smiledwith a bitter irony sometimes when she had heard him speak them in atone of utter thankfulness, while she had been quite unable to imaginehow he could use them of himself. But now--now--surely they applied toher!

Along with the sweep of the conductor's baton, with the rise and surgeof one of the greatest of the symphonies, ran the triumphant words ofthe singer of old time: "_Thou hast set my feet in a large room. _"

Surely it was a large room into which, from a cramped and restrictedone, she had emerged. She would do small honour to the devout life whichhad so long been lived beside her if she should fail to give the praiseto the Maker of all life, who, according to her father's firm belief, had known from the beginning all for which He had been so wisely fittingher. 

CHAPTER XXVI

SALT WATER

It was the tenth day of April. A great ship was making ready to sail;she lay like some inert monster at her pier, while all about her, withinand without, was apparent commotion yet really ordered haste, thecustomary scene of bustling activity. 

Few passengers had yet arrived, for the time of sailing was still somehours away. One party of three, however, had just driven down to thevery gangway, allowed by some special privilege a closer approach thanmost at this hour. The reason was apparent when the party alighted, forone of its number was clearly an invalid, a frail-looking man with curlygray hair, who leaned upon the arm of a much younger man with a keen, distinguished face. The third person was a young woman, the sort ofyoung woman who looks as if no buffeting wind could blow her away, because she would be sure to face it with delight, her eager face onlyglowing the brighter for the conflict. 

"This is the advantage of coming early, isn't it?" said Mrs. JeffersonCraig, with a look of congratulation at her husband. "It's not much asit was when we saw Mr. And Mrs. Brandt off last week. You can walk onboard as slowly as you please, Father Davy; there's no one to push. "

Mr. David Warne was drawing deep breaths of the salty air, with itspeculiar mixture of odours. He was also gazing about him with delightedeyes, seeming in no haste to cross the gangway. 

"When I was a boy, " he said to his daughter, who remained close at hisside, "I lived, as you know, in a seaport town. Ever since I came away, it seems to me, I have been longing to smell that salty, marshy, brinysmell again. It takes me back--how it takes me back!"

"The voyage is going to do you worlds of good, " exulted Georgiana, hereyes bright with hope. "Jefferson was quite right: the winter at home, to help the poor spine; now the sea air, and the complete change, tomake you strong. We'll have you marching back and forth with the otherlearned men, under the lindens at Trinity, while we are in Oxford--handsclasped behind your back, impressive nose in air--the very picture of agentleman and a scholar. "

"As if there were anything of the scholar about me, " murmured Mr. Warne, smiling at this picture of his undistinguished self. "Well, my children, I suppose you are ready to go on, and I imagine we are not wanted in theway here. Let us proceed across that little bridge, and then we canlook back at all this interesting activity. "

Half an hour later, having taken possession of their staterooms, theparty returned to the deck, where Georgiana and her husband establishedMr. Warne in his chair, well tucked up in rugs--for the April air thoughbalmy was treacherous. They then fell to pacing up and down, accordingto the irresistible tendency of the human foot the moment that it treadsthe deck. 

"He seems deliciously happy, doesn't he?" said Georgiana's voice in herhusband's ear. "If he were twenty-six instead of fifty-six he couldn'tenter into it all with more zest. How pleased he was with Mrs. Brandt'sflowers, and how dear it was of her to send them to him!"

"However happy he may be, " declared Jefferson Craig, "it's not withinthe bounds of possibility that he is so happy as we!"

"Oh, of course not!" agreed Georgiana to this decidedly boyish speech. She realized suddenly how quickly the sense of relaxation from care wasbeginning to show in her husband. Her hand within his arm gave it a warmlittle squeeze. "That couldn't be expected. To be torn apart, at any andall hours, and kept apart day after day, just when we most want to betogether--and then to come down to a big ship and know that no telephonebell can ring, nobody can make a single demand upon us that can preventour being by ourselves--well, words simply can't express how wonderfulit seems!"

"It _is_ wonderful, and we'll make the most of it. There's just onething I want to get out of this vacation in the way of work, and thenall the rest of it shall be at your service. "

"The book?"

"The book. How did you guess? I haven't spoken of it. "

"No, but I've seen you looking wistfully at your notebook time andagain, and guessed what you were thinking of. Well, we can make it fly. I'm ready for you. "

Georgiana plunged her hand into a small bag she carried on her arm, andbrought forth a notebook--of her own. She produced a pencil. "You may aswell begin to dictate now, " she said demurely. "What's the use of losingtime? Just don't go too fast, that's all. "

He stared at her. "What do you mean, dear? You don't know shorthand. "

"Don't I? Well, perhaps I can write fast enough in long hand. Try me. "

"My idea is, " he said, "that we might spend a couple of hours everymorning, and another couple in the afternoon, if you don't mind, andreally get ahead quite a bit while we are at sea--provided you prove agood sailor, which I have an idea you will if---- See here, what are youdoing? You're not taking that down in signs!" He looked over hershoulder at the notebook, where a series of dashes, angles, hooks anddots was forming with great rapidity. "You don't mean to say----"

"No, I mean to write, and let you do the saying. Go ahead, sir--only besure you say something worth while. "

"But--you didn't have that accomplishment when we worked together lastsummer. "

"How I did wish I had, though! You kept insisting that I was doing all Icould for you by copying endlessly, but I knew perfectly well that if Iwere a stenographer you could accomplish just three times as much in agiven time as you did. You know perfectly well you only took that courseto give a poor girl the chance to earn. If it hadn't been for helping meyou would have had a secretary at your elbow, after you got to the pointof needing him. "

"I took that course, as you well know, because I wanted you at my elbow. If you had been able to write only a word a minute, I should have wantedyou there just the same. "

She gave him a merry, understanding look, then read him the words he hadjust spoken from her book. 

"Where in the world did you learn, and how?" he demanded. "And how haveyou become so proficient in so short a time?"

"I'm afraid it's rather blundering work yet, but it will grow better allthe time. Why, I've been taking lessons all winter, dear sir, at thebest shorthand school in the city. I made up my mind that it was thething I could do that would be of most use to you. It's a shame that aman who is doing the original work that you are shouldn't have time togive other people more benefit of it. It seemed to me you could write animportant monograph in an hour, if you just had me at hand to take downthe words of wisdom as they fell from your learned lips. Why you haven'tused a secretary before for this purpose I don't know, but I certainlyam glad you haven't. It insures me the position. "

If she had wanted a reward for long and severe labours she had it in hislook. "Other men dictate such papers, " he said, "but somehow it hasnever seemed to me I could. I tried it once or twice and didn't get onat all as I did when I had the pen in my fingers. But with you, it maybe different. "

"It will be different, " she told him confidently. "You're going tobecome used to my being so much a part of you that you can think as ifyou were using my brains--or I were using yours, which would be more tothe purpose, I admit. Oh, we're going to accomplish all sorts of thingstogether. "

He looked down into her eager face, glowing with colour, the dark eyesapparently seeing visions which gave them keen delight. "You are apartner worth having, " he said, much moved. "I knew you would be, andit's seemed to me all winter that no wife could be more of one. But ifyou're going to add this to your other activities you will make yourselfeven more indispensable than you already are, which is saying much. "

She could hardly wait until she had made a trial of this new form ofpartnership. The ship had barely turned her face out to sea, partingcompany with her pilot, before the work began. 

Doctor Craig had secured a small suite of staterooms opening upon acentral sitting-room, and here he and Georgiana could be sure of muchtime to themselves. While the pair were engaged Mr. Warne was supremelycontent to lie in a sheltered corner of the deck, book in hand, readingor watching the ever new glory of sea and sky, or talking with somefellow passenger who possessed intelligence enough to discover whatmanner of man was here. 

When Georgiana, ardent as a child in her joy over what was to berevealed, unpacked a small, portable typewriter and set it upon thetable of the sitting-room, Jefferson Craig suddenly caught her in hisarms. 

"My blessed girl, " he cried, "this, too? What haven't you done withyour winter, when I thought you were spending your time gettingacquainted with New York, as I meant you to do? You and Mrs. Brandt weresupposed to be seeing everything worth seeing, on those morning drives. Were you shut up in your room all that time learning machines?"

"No, indeed. Do you imagine I made up all the stories I told you ofthose expeditions? We did all that, and this, too. I spent only an houreach morning at the school; the rest of the study I put in at all hours. Many of them were when I was waiting for you, Doctor Craig, to take meto a dinner or the opera. My notebook lived with me as if it had been atreasure I couldn't have out of my sight. It was just that. I never wasso proud of anything I learned at college as I was when the gruff manwho had my special training in charge told me I would make astenographer. Not all of them did, he said. Some never could get hold ofit, or acquire any speed or accuracy. Just give me a year, and I'll putdown your thoughts before you think them!"

"I haven't a doubt of it, " he agreed, with a laugh of amusement anddelight. 

Thus the work began, and thus it proceeded, with only one day'sinterruption when, in mid-ocean, came twenty-four hours of moderatelybad weather. 

To Georgiana's joy she proved herself the sailor her husband hadprophesied, but her father was not so fortunate, and she promptlytucked him in his berth, where she kept him fairly comfortable until therough seas quieted. When he was recovered he lay for one morning on thecouch in the sitting-room, while the two workers resumed their task. Here he seemed to slumber much of the time, but in reality he keptrather a close watch on the absorbed pair, whom he had never before seenthus engaged, much as he had heard of their labours. 

Looking up suddenly Georgiana discovered the blue eyes upon her, andwhen her flying fingers next stopped she put a question: "A penny foryour thoughts, Father Davy. Don't we work together rather well, in spiteof my being such a novice?"

"You two pull excellently well in double harness, it seems to me, " heresponded. "I can't see that either is taking all the load while theother soldiers and lets the traces slack. "

Doctor Craig looked around at him. "She's always ahead by a pair of earsat least, " he declared with a laugh. 

"But I hear his steady pound--pound--at my side, and I'm afraid he'sgoing to get a shoulder ahead, " his wife explained. 

The interest the pair excited on shipboard was greater than Georgianaguessed, though Doctor Craig was quite aware of it. Somehow or other theword had gone around, as words do go in a ship's company, as to theliterary labours they were engaged in, and as Jefferson Craig's name wasone known to more people than Georgiana had the slightest notion of, there was cause enough for the attention given them. Craig's noteworthypersonality--one which marked him anywhere as a man of intellect andaction--Georgiana's fresh young beauty, her spontaneous low laughter asshe paced the deck at her husband's side, her readiness to make friendswith those whose looks and bearing attracted her--these attributes madethe Craigs the target for all eyes. 

"I never saw people who looked so absolutely content, " fretfullymurmured one swathed mummy in a deck chair to another, as the pairpassed them, on the tenth round of a long tramp, one gray morning whenthe wind was more than ordinarily chill. The speaker's black eyes, heavily lidded in a pale, discontented face, followed the Craigs out ofsight as she spoke. 

"Oh, they're on their honeymoon--that accounts for it, " replied theother, languidly. Her glance also had followed the walkers. 

"No, they're not--I've told you that before. They were married lastDecember--plenty of time for the glamour to wear off. They act as ifthey never expected it to wear off. Sue Burlison must hate to look atthem--she certainly had her mind made up to marry Jefferson Craig, if itcould be done. "

"So did Ursula Brandywine, " contributed the languid one. 

"You could say that of a dozen--twenty. I presume there are at leastfour disappointed mothers on board, besides Jane Burlison. Not that anyof them ever had much encouragement from him--I'll say that for him. They'd about given him up as hopeless when he went off and married thiscountry girl. One thing is certain--in spite of her fine clothes shehasn't the air his wife ought to have--she's not his equal. "

"What's that you say?" The questioner was a sallow-faced youth upon theblack-eyed lady's other side. Sunk deep in a fur-lined coat, his cappulled low over his eyes--which were precisely like hers, even to theexpression of discontent--he had seemed for the last hour to beslumbering. But at the moment he looked quite wide awake, as he turnedhis head toward his mother and challenged her latest statement. "What'sthat you say?" he repeated, in her own acrimonious tone. 

"Oh, have you come to at last?" she inquired. "It is quite impossible toremember that though you sleep for hours you are liable to wake in timeto contradict me on any point whatever. In this case it is of noconsequence what I may have said. "

"You were handing us the hot dope about Mrs. Craig's not being in thesame class with Dr. Jeff. It certainly does take a woman to stick herclaws into another woman's fur. There's one thing I can tell you--thereisn't a man on board who'd agree with you. If she's a country girl--youcan say good-bye for me to the little old town. I'm going to take torural life till I find another. Talk about peaches and cream!"

"I believe I did not mention her complexion, " his mother observedcoldly. 

"Neither did your little son--though it would bear mentioning. I shouldsay yes! You said she hadn't any air. Jupiter--there she comes now. Noair!"

He subsided into his high-turned fur collar but his eyes watchedintently as the Craigs, still walking briskly after at least an hour'sexercise, came up the deck from the stern. His mother, on the contrary, let her drooping lids fall indifferently. The moment they were out ofpossible hearing the young man sat up. 

"By Jove, if you call that no air, tell the grande dames to get a moveon. She walks like a young goddess--that's what. "

"Silly boy! Nobody is talking of her face or her gait. If you don't knowwhat I mean, no one can tell you. "

"Oh, I know what you mean, " her son assured her. "I get you. What I sayis--you don't get _her_! Jefferson Craig's the one who gets her--luckychap! Maybe he doesn't know it--oh, no! Maybe not!" And turning hisback he once more appeared to slumber. 

It was fortunate for Georgiana that she never even imagined suchcomments, though she passed these rows of critical eyes a hundred timesa day, sat at table with people who were keenly observant of her everyact and word, and spent some reluctant hours in the society of those whostrove to cultivate her for their own blasé enjoyment. She only knewthat among the company she met a number of interesting men and women, with whom she and her husband were thoroughly congenial, and that it didnot matter in the least about the rest. If those whom she liked so much, and with whom she could talk with the greatest zest, turned out to bethe men and women of scientific or literary achievement, this seemedonly natural to the college-bred girl, and she cared not at all that shedid not get on so easily with those whose distinction lay in purelysocial or financial lines. 

During the winter just past her experience had been much the same, in alarger way. Her husband's acquaintance was naturally a large one, butthe circle of his real friends was bound almost wholly by these samecongenialities of mind and tastes. Georgiana had met and beenentertained by many people whose names stood high on the list of thedistinguished, though their personal fortunes were small, and theirsocial activities were ignored in the society columns of the Sundaypress. A college president, several famous surgeons, not a few notedauthors of scientific books, as well as certain social workers, and twoor three clergymen--these, with their wives and families, were the sortof people who gave to Georgiana Craig a hearty and sincere welcome, recognizing her at once as one who belonged to them. It was small wonderthat the young wife, trained in a school of life in which nothingcounted except worth and ability, found no lack, nor thought of sighingfor the privilege her husband could easily have given her, had he caredfor it himself, of mingling with a quite different class, that of therich and gay who cared for little except that which could give them themost powerfully emotional reactions in the way of diversion, acquisition, or notoriety. 

So they continued to work and walk their joyously contented way acrossthe wide Atlantic during the six days between port and port. Georgianaenjoyed every hour, from that early morning one in which she first cameon deck, running up with her husband to breathe deeply of thestimulating sea breeze before breakfasting, to the latest one, when, furry coat drawn hurriedly on over her pretty evening frock, her darkhair lightly confined under a gauzy scarf, she with Craig and a merryhalf-dozen of the evening's group came up again upon a deserted deck, to "blow the society fog out of their lungs, " as one young biologist ofcoming reputation put it, in the silvery April moonlight, with only afew similarly inclined spirits to share with them the big empty spaces. 

"I shall really be sorry to land to-morrow, " sighed Georgiana, leaningupon the rail on the last night of the voyage, and staring ahead towardthe quarter where her husband had just indicated they would be seeingland when they came up in the morning. "It has been so perfect, thisbeing off between the sea and the sky together. When shall I ever forgetthis first voyage? It's a dream come true. "

"You will enjoy the second one just as much, for you're a born sailor, and there'll be a long succession of voyages for you to look back uponby and by. Not just my annual pilgrimages to foreign clinics, butjourneys to the ends of the earth if you like. Will that suit you, eager-eyed one?"

"Suit me? Oh, wonderful to think of! Am I eager-eyed really? I try sohard to cultivate that beautiful calm of manner I admire so much inother people. Haven't I acquired a bit of it yet?"

"A beautiful calm of manner--all that could be desired. But your eyesstill suggest that you're standing on tiptoe, with your face lighted bythe dawn, " Craig answered contentedly. "Heaven forbid you ever lose thatlook! It's what gives the zest to my life. "

CHAPTER XXVII

"CAKES AND ICES"

Jefferson Craig found plenty of the zest which he had toldGeorgiana--that last evening on shipboard--her eager-eyed look added tohis life, when, the next day, in a compartment reserved for the threetravelers, he watched her as she fairly hung out of the windows. Allthrough Devonshire and on to the northeast. She was drinking in the fairand ordered beauty of the English countryside in April, exclaiming overapple orchards rosy as sea-shells with bloom, over vine-clad cottagesand hedge-bordered lanes, masses of wall flowers at each trim station, and such green fields as she had never seen in her life. Father Davy wasnot far behind her in his quiet enjoyment of the unaccustomed scenes. 

A night at Bath, picturesque and interesting, and then before the eldestof the three travelers could be really weary they were in famous Oxford. Professor Pembroke and his wife, Allison Craig, met them at the station, to convoy them to the comfortable quarters in the dignified stone housenear Magdalen College, which Craig had more than once described toGeorgiana. 

Here the young American had her first taste of a manner of life whichenchanted her. From the moment that she set eyes on Jefferson Craig'ssister, the original of the photograph she had so often studied with aconstriction of the heart, not knowing whose it was, she was drawn toher as she had never been drawn to any other woman. 

Sitting with her in the pleasant, chintz-hung living-room, walking withher in the garden which was like no garden she had ever imagined, shewas conscious of a stronger sense of wonder than ever that a man whosefamily was represented by a sister like this could ever have chosen thecrude young person she still considered herself. From Mrs. Pembroke, however, she received only heart-warming assurance of her welcome andher fitness. 

"My dear, " Allison said, as the two stood at an ivy-framed window onemorning, looking out at Mr. Warne and his son-in-law as they slowlypaced up and down beneath a row of copper beeches between house andgarden, "I never saw my brother so happy in his life. Jeff always washard to please as a boy. I used to think it was merely a criticaldisposition, but later I discovered that it was his extreme distaste forall artifice, acting, intrigue--all absence of genuineness. Only thoseboys and men interested him whom he had absolute faith in. 

"I don't mean that he himself was a goody-goody--far from it; he was aterrible prank maker, and more than once narrowly missed sufferingserious consequences. But when he really grew up and it came to anacquaintance with women, very few have even attracted him. I began tofear that he was becoming hardened and would never find just what hisfastidious taste could approve--not to mention what his heart mightsoften to. But now--well, I think I am almost as happy as he is, that hehas found you. He seems like a different being to me, and evidently itis you who have wrought the miracle. "

"I surely have made no change in him, " Georgiana protested. "He has beenjust as he is now from the beginning--except, of course, that I know himbetter. I can't imagine him hardened to anything. "

Allison Pembroke looked at her, smiling. She was herself an unusuallybeautiful woman, more mature than Georgiana, but still with a touch ofgirlishness in her personality which made her very appealing to heryoung guest. 

"Evidently the softening process began the moment he met you, " she said. "He frankly admits that himself. I am going to tell you what he wrote tome last winter, after you had begun your work with him. 'I feel like afootsore traveler, ' he said, 'who has been walking for many miles alonga hot and crowded highway, with the dust heavy on his shoulders andthick in his throat, who suddenly finds his course turned aside througha deep and quiet wood, with flowers springing on all sides, and a clearstream running beside him, where he may bathe his flushed face and coolhis parched throat. ' I have never forgotten the words, because theystruck me as so unlike him. I knew then that something had happened tohim there in the old manse. And when I saw you, dear, I didn't wonderthat he chose just those words. "

"I should never have thought, " murmured Georgiana, incredulously, "thatI could ever have reminded anybody of a quiet wood--I with my hotrebellion at having to spend my days in the country, which I could neverquite cover up. "

"I know. Just the same, Georgiana, after having known so many artificialwomen, posing, as women do pose for a man in Jefferson's place, itrefreshed his very soul to find a girl like you, who dared to be herselffrom head to foot, whether she pleased him or not. And oh, I am sothankful you could care for him, since he needed you so much!"

Such talks brought these two very close together. 

It was a happy week which Georgiana spent in the fine, classic old town, walking or driving with Allison, exploring quaint, winding streets, ancient halls, and flowery closes; or meeting interesting people of allranks, from the chancellor of the University himself to the youngundergraduates who offered her in their old and dingy but distinguishedrooms tea and toasted scones, along with their fresh-cheeked admiration. 

Not the least of her pleasure was in watching Father Davy's keenenjoyment of everything that came his way, and in noting how many ofthese English people seemed to find him one of them in his appreciationof all they had to offer and in his intimate knowledge of theirtime-honoured history. He apparently grew a little stronger with eachsucceeding day; certainly he grew younger, for happiness is a tonicwhich has special power upon those who carry the burden of years; andFather Davy's years, while not so many, had been heavy of weight uponhis slender shoulders and had bowed them before their time. 

After Oxford came London--a fortnight of it, and a very differentexperience. Living at a luxurious hotel with Allison Pembroke, who hadcome up with them, to show her all the ways of which she felt herselfignorant; with Craig coming and going from hospital and lecture room, suggesting each day new wonders; with hours spent daily in the deardelight of exploration in all sorts of out-of-the-way, famous places;Georgiana felt as if it were all too miraculous to be true. 

That she, "Georgie Warne, " as the village people had called her all herlife, should, for instance, be walking with charming Mrs. Pembroke alongPiccadilly in the May sunshine--real London sunshine and no wateryimitation such as she had heard of--dressed in the most modish of springcostumes, violets in her belt purchased on a street corner from a younggirl with the eyes of a Mrs. Patrick Campbell and the accent ofBattersea Park--well, it simply did not seem real!

Much less did the hours seem real when she went with her husband to taketea on the Terrace at the Houses of Parliament, or with all three of herparty to dine with some friendly Londoner who appeared eager to offerhospitality to the whole party. Best of all, perhaps, were the lateevening walks upon which Craig took her alone, to stroll along theVictoria Embankment, a place of which she never tired, to watch themyriad lights upon the black river, and to talk endlessly of all thepair could see before them of purpose and achievement. 

"Do you know what you remind me of these days?" Craig asked one night, when the two had returned to the hotel after one of these long, slowwalks, during which they had been unusually silent. 

He threw himself into a deep armchair as he spoke and sat looking up athis wife, who stood at the open balcony window, gazing down at thestreet below, with the interest in everything human which seemed neverto abate. 

She turned, smiling. She was particularly lovely to look at to-night, wearing a little pale-gray, silk-and-chiffon frock (lately purchased ata French shop in London), which, in spite of its Parisian lines andgraces, was distinctly reminiscent of a certain other gray-silk frockworn on a never-to-be-forgotten occasion. 

"Of a child at her first party?" she asked. "That's what I feel like. Only there's no end to the cakes and ices, the bonbons and surprises. And I never have to worry because before long I must go home!"

"No, not like that; your similes are always too self-deprecatory. Youseem to me more and more like a young queen who has just come to thethrone, but who is shy about picking up her sceptre. She preferslong-stemmed roses, and every now and then she catches up her train andruns down from her dais and out-of-doors, until some shocked courtierrushes after her and brings her back!"

"Now you _are_ laughing at me!" Georgiana wheeled to confront herhusband, who, stretched lazily in his chair, after a long day at theside of a great biologist in his laboratory, was relaxing muscles andnerves at the same time. 

He put out one arm toward her, and she came slowly to his side. "Not abit. It just delights me to see you your natural self in spite of allthat London can do to you. Allison tells me that it is the mostinteresting thing in the world to watch you decide whether you will buya new hat or a new book. She declares that milliners admire you and seemanxious to please you, but that when you get into a bookshop you haveevery old bookseller climbing about his ladders to bring down hischoicest treasures for you. "

Georgiana laughed. "I can't get used to buying hats at all--not tomention silk stockings--and as for buying hats and books and silkstockings on the same day, it's simply past belief that I can do it. Whydo you fill my purse so full? I'm afraid I'm losing all the benefit ofmy long training in frugality. "

"I hope so. I can never forget last winter watching you dissemble yourgood healthy appetite and pretend you didn't want beefsteak, while youfed your father and me on a juicy tenderloin. Brave little housekeeperon nothing a month!"

She looked at him quickly. "I never dreamed you noticed. And besides, Ireally didn't want----"

"Take care! The table was the only place where I ever caught you playinga part. I forgave you, only--how I did long to divide with you! Now allthe rest of my life I can divide, equal shares, with you--my Georgiana!"

The weeks flew by, bringing never-ending interest. After London cameEdinburgh, city of stately beauty, where among Scottish friends of theCraigs Georgiana learned whence her husband's family had sprung, andtheir noble origin and history. 

Then the vacation was at an end "for this time, " as Craig said, and thelittle party turned their faces homeward. 

A letter from James Stuart, in the same mail with one twice its lengthfrom Jeannette Crofton, caused them to hasten their date of sailing by aweek in order to be in time for a great event. Stuart wrotecharacteristically:

 You simply have to come home, George, and help me through it. Of course I knew from the first I'd have to face a big city wedding, but the actual fact rather daunts me. Of course it's all right, for we know Jean's mother would never be satisfied to let me have her at all except by way of the white-glove route. The white gloves don't scare me so much as the orchids, and I suppose my new tailor will turn me out a creditable figure. But if I can't have you and Dr. Jeff Craig there I don't believe I can stand the strain. 

 The worst of it is that after all that show I can only take her back to the old farm. Not that she minds; in fact, she seems to be crazy about that farm. But it certainly does sound to me like a play called "From Orchids to Dandelions. "

 So, for heaven's sake, come home in time! The date's had to be shoved up on account of some great-aunt who intends to leave Jean her fortune some day if she isn't offended now, and the nice old lady wants to start for the Far East the day after the date she sets for our affair. 

"Of course we must go, " Craig agreed. "We'll stand by the dear fellowtill the last orchid has withered--if they use orchids at June weddings, which I doubt. As for the dandelions, I think there's small fear thatJean won't like them. I fully believe in her sincerity, and I'm preparedto see her astonish her family by her devotion to country life. Stuart'sable to keep her in real luxury, from the rural point of view, as Iunderstand it, and she will bring him a lot of fresh enthusiasm thatwill do him a world of good. "

"I'm trying to imagine Jimps's June-tanned face above a white shirtfront, " mused Georgiana. "He'll be a perfect Indian shade by that time. "

"Not more so than any young tennis or golf enthusiast, will he?"

"Oh, much more. Jimps is out in the sun from dawn till sundown; his veryeyebrows get a russet shade. But of course that doesn't matter, and hissplendid shoulders certainly do fill out a dress coat to greatadvantage. You don't mind being considered one of his best friends by ayoung farmer, do you? That's the way he feels about you. "

"I consider it a great honour. I never was better pleased than whenStuart first made friends with me, even after I discovered that he was, as I thought, my successful rival. It was impossible to help liking him. In fact, I've often wondered why--he didn't continue to be my rival. "

"Oh, no, Jefferson Craig, you couldn't possibly wonder that!"contradicted Georgiana, in such a tone of finality that her husbandlaughed and told her that flattery could go no farther. 

The voyage home was nearly a duplicate of the one outward bound, exceptthat the two workers put in much extra time on the book and pushed itwell toward completion. 

Father Davy acquired the strength to take short walks on an even deckand boasted hugely of his acquisition, a twinkle in his eye and a tingeof real colour in his cheek. 

"Imagine my coming home from abroad with trunks full of clothes andbooks and pictures, " murmured Georgiana, as the three stood togetherwatching the big ship make her port. "I feel like a regularmillionairess. "

"A regular one would smile at your modest showing, " was Craig's comment. "I'm quite certain no man ever found it more difficult to persuade hiswife to buy frocks, even when he went with her and expressed his anxietyto see her in particular colours. "

"Confess, " demanded Georgiana with spirit, "that you would bedisappointed if I suddenly became a devotee of clothes and wanted allthose gorgeous things we saw, and which that black-eyed Frenchwomantried so hard to make me take. "

"Those wouldn't have suited you, of course. I don't want to make anactress of you, or even a society woman who gets her gowns described inthe Sunday papers. But when you refuse simple white frocks with blueribbons----"

"Costing three figures! And I could copy every one of those myself for afraction of the money. "

"What would you do with the money saved?"

"Buy books. "

Georgiana and Father Davy exchanged a smiling, tender glance which spokeof past years of longings now satisfied. 

Craig laughed heartily. "Incorrigible little book-lover! Well, it's aworthy taste. I happened to overhear a comment on your reading the otherday which amused me very much. When you left your steamer chair to walkwith me you left also a copy of _Traditions of the Covenanters_. Alittle later, coming up behind that young Edmeston, who spends most ofhis time lounging in the chair next yours, I heard him say to a girl:'She doesn't look such an awful highbrow, but believe _me_, the thingsshe reads on shipboard when the rest of us are yawning over summernovels would help weight the anchor if we got on the rocks!' Then withawe he mentioned the name of that book, and the girl said:' Howfrightful! But I'm crazy about her just the same. I do think she wearsthe darlingest clothes. ' So there you are! The men impressed, the girlsenvious, and your husband--worshipful. What more could a young wifeask?"

"Absolutely nothing, " acknowledged Georgiana with much amusement. 

CHAPTER XXVIII

A TANNED HERCULES

In spite of the fact that the holiday was over it was good to get backto the old house on the Square, to hear Mrs. MacFayden's warm "It's agled day"; to smile at Thomas and Duncan and the maids; to hug dear Mrs. Brandt; and to receive a hearty welcome from the other friends, who weremostly still in town in the middle of June. 

Then came eager summonses from Jeannette, who, with Aunt Olivia andRosalie, was staying at an uptown hotel for the finishing of thetrousseau. Georgiana found herself involved in a round of final shoppingand hurried luncheons, while Rosalie talked incessantly, Mrs. Croftonargued maternally, and the bride-elect herself turned to Georgiana asthe one person--with the exception of her father--who understood her. 

"I can't convince mother and Rosy that I'm not really to spend thesummer in the country with Jimps, and most of the rest of the year athome doing the usual round, " sighed Jeannette, unburdening herself toher cousin during a half-hour's needed relaxation between luncheon anda visit to a famous jeweller's. 

"I know; you'll just have to be patient, let them equip you for whatthey expect of you, and then--live your own life as you and Jimps haveplanned it. After a while they will see that you really do mean to livein the country, not the city, and that décolleté evening gowns don'tsuit the fireside, nor afternoon calling costumes the five-mile tramp. Meanwhile, don't let the poor boy ever guess at the size or quality ofyour outfit. I think he'd run away and hang himself!"

"He never shall know. And, Georgiana, I really have managed to have somequite simple little frocks made--by a young woman whom Madame Trennetrecommended when I whispered in her ear. And I've bought the jolliestdark green corduroy suit, with a short skirt and pockets, and a littlegreen corduroy soft hat to match, for the tramps. Oh, I'm going to be areal farmer's wife, I promise you!"

"Of course, " mused Georgiana gently, lifting quizzical eyebrows, "I'venever happened to see any farmer's wife thus equipped, but there's noreason why you shouldn't set the fashion. I suppose you will wear greensilk stockings and bronze pumps with this picturesque tramping costume, with a bronze buckle in your hat to complete the ensemble. All you willthen need will be a beautiful painted drop of the Forest of Arden----"

"You unkind thing! If _you_ begin to scoff----"

"But I won't. I know there's heaps of sense in your pretty head, andyou'll make Jimps the most satisfying sort of a wife even though youdon't carry the eggs to market or milk the cows. There's no reason whyyou should, with your own private income. Jimps is too wise to forbidyour spending it to decorate both your lives, for he knows you couldn'tstand real wear and tear, while a reasonable amount of country life willmake you stronger. Go ahead, dear; hang English chintzes at thefarmhouse windows, set up your baby grand piano in that nice, oldliving-room, and hang jolly hunting prints in the dining-room. Wear thecorduroys--only, instead of bronze pumps, I should advise----"

"You needn't. I've got them. The heaviest kind of tanned buckskin boots. And you all may laugh, but you just wait!"

"I'm not laughing; you know I'm not. I wish I could help you byconvincing Aunt Olivia that you don't need some of the things sheinsists on including. But, since I can't, I'll comfort you by assuringyou that Jefferson says he's counting on your being one of the sort whowill prove the great contention--that beauty and poetry _can_ be broughtinto the farmhouse. "

Thus spoke Georgiana, though in her heart of hearts, as she watchedJeannette in all her costly elegance, at counter after counter, selecting supplies of one sort or another, she couldn't help having herdoubts whether a lifelong training in luxury could be turned into afitness for living, in spite of many mitigations, the truly simple life. These doubts, however, she suppressed, only dropping a word of cautionhere and there, which Jeannette took kindly, being eager to proveherself practical, and undoubtedly sincere in her longing to bring toJames Stuart the helpmate he needed. 

So came on the great day; and when it had arrived, and the Craigs wereguests of Aunt Olivia, making ready for the ceremony, Georgiana had herchance to return to Stuart the support he had given her in the hour ofher own marriage. She had just completed her dressing, and was about todescend with her husband to the waiting bridal party below, when Stuartcame to their door. 

Craig admitted him, and he entered, the dreaded white gloves in hishands, visible agitation on his brow. 

"You young Hercules!" Georgiana cried. "Aren't you splendid!"

"I feel anything but splendid, " he returned nervously. "I look like aboiled lobster on a white platter!"

"Nonsense, man, " denied Dr. Jefferson Craig, his hand on Stuart'sshoulder, "you're the picture of a healthy young bridegroom. I've seenplenty of tallow candles standing up to be married; you're a refreshingcontrast. "

After a minute of heartening talk, Craig slipped out of the room, leaving the two old friends together. 

"Cheer up, Jimps, " Georgiana bade Stuart, as she gave a straighteninglittle touch to his white cravat, woman fashion. "This part won't lastlong. And don't be frightened when you catch sight of Jean in all herglory. She would much rather have been married as I was, you know, andshe's really precisely the same girl in spite of her veil. She worshipsyou, and everything's all right. Stop looking as if you wanted to runaway!"

"But I do--if I could just take her with me, " he answered, in such amelancholy tone that Georgiana laughed in his ruddy face. 

"You can't; this is the only way you can get her; so stand up straightand look everybody in the eye. You're perfectly stunning in thoseclothes, and lots nicer to look at than most men. And Chester will takeyou serenely through all the forms, so you've nothing to worry about. That's right--give me a ghost of a smile. One would think you were aboutto be hung!"

"I came to you to be braced up, so it's all right; but call off the dogsof war now. I did pretty well till I saw the total effect, and then Ithought maybe Jean would wish she had a man who could turn pale insteadof crimson. But I'm going through with it, and I don't intend to lookknockkneed, anyhow. "

"Good for you. Just remember that Jean would swim through a flood ofwater to reach you, wedding gown and all, if the aisle should happen tobe inundated, so you certainly can stand at the altar while she walks upthat aisle. "

"I sure can. " And James McKenzie Stuart shook his broad shoulders, lifted his head, and held out both hands to Georgiana Craig. "Muchobliged for the tonic. And, George--just remember, will you, that I'mprecisely the same brother to you I've always been! Nothing can everchange that!"

"Of course you are, " she agreed, with a rush of vivid recollectionswhich brought a curious little smile to her lips. "Now go, my dear boy, and heaven bless you!"

Half an hour later, standing beside her husband in the flower-fragrantchurch, Georgiana watched with a beating heart to see Stuart bearhimself like the man she knew him to be, in spite of all the pomp andceremony to which he was such a stranger. She had been half angry, allthe way through the preparations, that Aunt Olivia had insisted on everylast detail of formality and ostentation--or so it had seemed to her, asunaccustomed as Stuart himself to the great church wedding with itslong processional, its show of bridesmaids and flower girls, its ranksof ushers, its elaborate music, its pair of distinguished clergymen infull canonicals. But now, somehow, as the age-old words sounded upon herears, it seemed to matter less under what circumstances they werespoken, so that the answers to the solemn questions came from the heartsof those who spoke them. And of this she could have no possible doubt. 

By and by, when in her turn, back in the festally decorated house, shecame to give the newly married pair her felicitations, she was wellpleased to see Stuart quite himself again, smiling at her with the proudlook of the bridegroom from whom no human being can wrest the prize hehas just secured. And as she noted Jeannette's equally evident happycontent with the man she had married, Georgiana took courage for theirfuture. Surely--surely--they could go from these scenes of luxury to theplainer life that awaited them, and miss nothing, so that they took withthem, as they were doing, the one thing needful. 

"It's all right, I'm sure it's all right, dears, " she said to them, andshe said it again to her husband when they were rushing back to New Yorkby the first train after the bridal pair had gone. 

"Yes, I think it is, " he agreed. "It's an interesting experiment, butnot more hazardous than many another in the matrimonial line. If itsucceeds Jeannette will come out a finer woman than she could ever havebeen by any other process. It's amusing, though, to see her family. Evidently they regard her as one lost to the world quite as much as ifshe had gone into a convent to take the vows perpetual. "

"All but Uncle Thomas. He knows; he understands, little as he says. Hegrew up on a farm himself; he told me once that he could never smotherthe longing to get back to one. Poor Uncle Thomas, chained to a mahoganydesk, with a Persian rug under his feet! That one little trip across thewater, when the family went last year, was the only vacation he hadtaken in five years. And he came back on the next ship!"

"Jean and Stuart will have him often with them, see if they don't. "

"I hope so. Change is what he needs very badly. Change! Oh, if everybodycould have that when they need it! How it does make lives over! Iknow--how I do know! It's the deadly monotony that kills. Jean willbloom under the old farmhouse roof, away from all the fuss and frivolityshe's so tired of. "

"You've done some blooming yourself, " observed her husband, "though I'llventure to say you work harder than you ever did before, even at the oldloom. "

She gave him a quick glance. "Oh, it wasn't play I needed--justwork--the sort of work I love. I have that now. I love the visits to thehospital, the looking after the patients you bring home, the takingnotes of your lectures, the teaching of my evening class ofItalians--every bit of it is a delight. And then, when we do run awayfor a few hours, like this----"

"We enjoy it all the more for the contrast. Yes, I think we do. It's apretty fine partnership, and it grows more satisfying all the time. Here's hoping the two we've just seen start follow in our contentedfootsteps. A year from now we'll know!"

CHAPTER XXIX

MILESTONES

Georgiana would not have believed that it would be a full year beforeshe should have a chance to see for herself what sort of life Jeannetteand Stuart were making for themselves under the conditions which seemedsuch doubtful ones. But so it turned out. 

It had been before Jeannette's marriage that Georgiana found a changecoming in her own life, and the months of the summer and autumn whichfollowed were busy with the happy preparations for the new experience. In January her first son was born, and she learned that even a full andjoyous partnership between two human beings is not the most completething that can happen to them. When she saw her husband take the round, little pink-blanketed bundle in his arms for the first time, and watchedhis face as he explored the tiny features for signs of the future, herheart beat high with such rich content as she had not dreamed of. 

"Strange, isn't it, dear!" Craig said, when he had laid the pink bundleback in the arms of the nurse, who bore it away to the pretty nurseryclose at hand. "It's an old miracle always new, and never so wonderfulas when it comes to us for the first time--how that little life can beneither you nor I, yet both of us in one. Big possibilities are wrappedup in that bit of flesh and blood; it's going to be a great interest, the watching them begin to show. "

"Oh, yes!" she murmured, lying quietly with her hand beneath her cheek, too weary and too happy for speech. 

"I wonder if I dare to tell you how soon it was after I knew you that Ibegan to think of you as playing this part in my life, " he said verysoftly. 

"Did you? I'm so glad. " It was hardly more than a whisper. 

"Are you glad? I often think a girl little dreams of how often thatvision comes to a man long before she has thought of it at all. I wasonly a very young man when I began to think of it. Even when there wasno woman in my mind I used to plan what I would do for my own son when Ishould have him. And when I saw you I thought--with the greatestreverence, darling: 'If _she_ might be my son's mother!'"

He did not need the look her eyes gave him to tell him how this touchedher. When he went quietly away to leave her for the long sleep sheneeded it was with the consciousness that the bond between them wasmore absolute than it had ever been. 

It was in the following June, on the anniversary of the marriage of theJames McKenzie Stuarts, that the Jefferson Craigs had their firstopportunity to see with their own eyes how that marriage was prospering. Letters from Jeannette had come to Georgiana from time to time, with anoccasional postscript from Stuart, and these letters always breathed ofhappiness. 

"But one can't be perfectly sure from letters, " Georgiana argued. "Afterall the opposition and skepticism they would never own to anybody thatlife didn't flow like a rose-bordered stream. But one glimpse of theirfaces will tell the story. If Jeannette has a certain look I've oftenseen on the faces of girls who have been married about a year I shallguess what causes it. As for Jimps--he will be as easily read as an openbook. Jeff, you won't let anything prevent our being there for the fêtethey ask us for?"

"Nothing that I can foresee and provide for, " Craig promised. "I'm quiteas eager as you to discover how the transplanting of the hothouse plantinto the hardy outdoor soil of the country has worked out. There are tworesults about equally probable in such cases--hardly equally probable, either. The natural result, I should fear, would be the dwindling andstunting of the growth, unless protected by expedients not common tothe country, and fertilized until it should be really not growing incountry soil at all. "

"But the possible result?" urged Georgiana. 

"The one we're hoping for in this case--though I'm not sure how close ananalogy I can draw, being no gardener--is the gradual process ofadaptation to environment, so that the plant takes on a hardier quality, at an unavoidable sacrifice in size of bloom but with a correspondinggain in sturdiness and ability to bear the chilling winds and thebeating sunlight of outdoors. Great size in a flower never appealed tome anyhow. I like a blossom that stands straight and firm upon its stem, that gives forth a clean, spicy fragrance and doesn't wilt when it hasbeen an hour in my buttonhole. "

"That's the sort Jimps wants, I'm sure. He used to be always tucking oneof his scarlet geranium blossoms into his coat when he came over to seeme. We all think of Jeannette as the frailest sort of an orchid, beautiful to look at but ready to wither at a touch. This letter ofinvitation doesn't sound like that at all. You really think the longdrive won't hurt little son?"

"Not a bit, if you keep from getting tired or overheated yourself. Wecan manage that very nicely, with Duncan to drive, Lydia to look afterthe boy, and a long stop on the one night we must spend on the way. Thechange will do you good, faithful young mother. "

This proved quite true, and the two days' journey in the great car wasindeed an easy one for all concerned. Little Jefferson Junior, sixmonths' old, slept away many hours of the trip, and spent the resthappily in his nurse's or his mother's lap, watching with big, dark eyesthe spots of colour or life on the summer landscape as it slippedsmoothly past. Georgiana had wanted to bring Father Davy, but though hehad grown considerably stronger during the past year, it had not seemedworth while to put his endurance to so severe a test. He had not beenleft forlorn, however, for the Peter Brandts had taken him to theirhome, a welcome and a delighted guest. No doubt but there was a placefor David Warne in the great city, as there had been in the countryvillage. 

On the afternoon of the second day, as they neared the old home village, to which Georgiana had returned only once since her marriage, she foundherself noting with quickening pulse every familiar landmark. 

"It seems so strange to think of my going away from such scenes for goodand all, and Jean's coming to them, " she said to herself more than once. "How little either of us would have believed it, just two short yearsago!"

When they passed the old manse she gazed at it with affectionate eyes. "Oh, how shabby and poor it looks!" she said under her breath to Craig. "Did it look like that when you first saw it?"

He nodded, smiling. "Just like that. But the moment the door opened thefirst time I knew its shabbiness was just a blind to mislead thetraveler, who might otherwise stop and try to steal the treasure that itheld. "

Her eyes were searching next for the chimney tops that should mark theother home for which they were bound. How often had she looked at thosechimney tops, because they told her where was her best friend duringthose solitary days that were already so far past. A moment more andGeorgiana's first exclamation of surprise broke from her lips. Therewere to be many before the day was done. 

"Look! All those ugly little buildings at the back are gone, and thehouse stands all by itself at the top of the slope. Isn't that animprovement? It's freshly painted, too; how that clear white brings outthe beauty of the old house! It used to be such a dingy slate! I alwaysknew it was a pleasant place, but I didn't fully appreciate it. The lawnis as trim as can be, and there's a border of shrubs and flowers allalong the drive. How little real change to make so much! That's Jean, Iknow. Oh, and there's Jean herself, running down the steps! She seesus!"

"Is that really Jeannette Crofton?" Craig doubted. "Yes--for a fact!Well, well!"

They might easily doubt the evidence of their eyes, for the slim figurethey had known so well had rounded until it showed softly bloomingcurves, and colouring which put to blush the cosmetics which the societygirl had not altogether eschewed, though it had been long before theless sophisticated cousin had found this out. No need for rouge orpowder now, for nature had laid on the lovely face her own unrivalledtints of rose overlying the soft browns of summer tan. 

"Oh, you darlings, to come and bring the baby! Do let me look athim--the blessed thing! Isn't he a beauty?--but, of course, how could hehelp it? Jimps! O Jimps! Here they are!"

Thus cried Jeannette out of sheer exuberance, though the fact of thearrival was obvious enough, and James Stuart was already dashing acrossthe lawn from the opposite direction. 

As she looked at her cousin, Georgiana's first impression was the oneshe had hardly dared hope for, that of Jeannette's entire content andwell-being. Not only was the physical improvement noteworthy but acertain worn and worldly look had vanished--one which had not affectedher beauty and had been discernible only to the closely observing eye, but which had been there none the less and was gone now. 

This change grew more and more apparent as Georgiana continued to regardher young hostess. From the moment the party first entered thewide-thrown front door, it was easy to discover that both Stuart and hiswife were eager as two children for the approval of their guests. Suchapproval was not long in appearing. 

"How pleasant--how charming!" cried Georgiana, as her quick eye took inattractive effect after effect. "Oh, you clever things, to do it likethis! How absolutely in keeping it all is, and how quiet, yet howbeautiful!"

"She's done it, " vowed James Stuart proudly. "I was a duffer at it tillshe showed me what she was after. I wanted to buy brocaded silkfurniture, like that in her home--while my money held out. But she wouldhave nothing but this sort of thing. Homelike, isn't it?"

It was the word which described it, if one qualified the term by makingit apply only to homes built on foundations of good taste andsuitability to environment. As she looked about her Georgiana saweverywhere evidences of the use of abundant means, and she realized thatJeannette had been clever indeed to supply so much without impressingStuart with the undoubted fact that she had contributed more than he tothe final result. 

The whole effect of the house's interior was one of well-chosen butunostentatious comfort, and the materials and furnishings used were allso nicely adapted to their setting that only to more discerning eyesthan those of the Stuarts' neighbours would they have expressed unusualresources of supply. 

"It's an achievement!" Craig declared. 

His enlightened gaze traveled from one point to another of the long, low-ceilinged living-room, sunny with new windows, and with walls andhangings of soft browns and golden yellows. He noted that Jeannette hadhad the good sense to make use of the old furniture the house possessedwherever it was fit for preservation, and that she had dignified thewalls by retaining certain dim old portraits, done in fading oils, ofStuart's ancestors. Everywhere could be seen similar interestingblending of the new and the old, though it was often difficult to tellwhich was which. 

The elder Stuarts were living in a wing of the house, that being theportion where they had spent their lives, making little use of theupright and the corresponding wing, which were now turned over to theson and his wife. Since the elder people wisely preferred thissemi-independence, the younger were able to be much by themselves, Stuart explained, though always near and ready to lend a hand at anyhour. Since the stalwart son could not be entirely spared by thesomewhat feeble old couple, the arrangement seemed an admirable one, and thus far it had worked very well. 

"Jean's such a dear with them, " Stuart said covertly to Georgiana, leading her aside for a moment to look at a curious old buffet which hadbeen long in the family. "They adore her, and she really seems very fondof them. Of course they have old Eliza to look after them, as they havehad for so long; but we ask them in to dinner every few days, and oftenhave them sitting by the fire with us here on cool evenings. The funnypart, though, is when Mother Crofton comes. She can't get over it, orget used to it; she sits and looks at Jean as if she were an actress ina play, and by and by would take off her make-up and be herself again. "

"I wonder how far that is from the real truth, " thought Georgiana toherself, as she watched the young mistress of the place with fascinatedeyes. 

Certainly if Jeannette were acting it was very skilfully done. As sheled her guests about the house, and then established them on the lawn, beneath the great elms which furnished a grateful shade at thisafternoon hour over nearly the whole expanse, she seemed the embodimentof health and happiness. 

By and by, when the Crofton car arrived, bearing Uncle Thomas and AuntOlivia, with Rosalie and Chester following a few moments later inChester's roadster, Jeannette grew fairly radiant. 

CHAPTER XXX

QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS

It was not until late that evening that Georgiana had a chance really tolearn the whole state of the case. 

During the intervening hours had occurred the event for which they hadall been invited--the entertaining of at least two hundred people fromthe surrounding country and the village. For this event, which Stuartnaïvely called a "party, " Jeannette a "lawn fête, " and the gueststhemselves, for the most part, a "picnic, " porches, lawn and trees hadbeen hung with gay lanterns, bonfires had been built, the small villageband engaged, a light but delectable supper provided, and as muchjollity planned as could be crowded into the hours between five o'clockand eleven. 

From the standpoint of those entertaining, at least, the affair had beena success, for Stuart, long accustomed to the ways of his fellowcountrymen, considered himself fully able to tell from their manner, ifnot from their expressions of pleasure, whether they had really foundenjoyment in the efforts of their hosts. 

"They had a mighty good time, no doubt about it!" he declared, when thelast reluctant guest had departed in the last small car which had waitedat the edge of the roadway. (Not the least of young Chester Crofton'senjoyment had been occasioned by the sight of the long row of vehicles, from two-seated wagons to smart and even expensive motors, which hadlined the road for many rods. ) "And a lot of them are well worthknowing, " Stuart added. 

His eye chanced to fall on his father-in-law, Mr. Thomas Crofton, as hemade this assertion. The party were sitting in a group upon thelantern-lighted porch and its steps, and the senior Crofton's face wasplainly visible. 

That gentleman nodded. "You're quite right, Jim, " he said. "I don't knowwhen I've had a more interesting conversation with any man than I didwith one of your neighbours, nor found a more intelligent set ofopinions on every subject we touched on. He wasn't the only one, either. As a rule I found the people who came here to-night possessed of rathermore than the average amount of brains. I should like to try livingamong them--for a change, at least. "

"I struck a tongue-tied dolt or two, " remarked his son Chester, "butdolts aren't uncommon anywhere, even when not tongue-tied. And I did runup against some chaps I liked jolly well. One of them invited me up fora week-end; I nearly fell over when he did it. I didn't know countrypeople ever talked about week-ends. I thought they called it 'stayingover Sunday. '"

"You mean Wells Lawson, " Stuart informed him. "If you could see the listof newspapers and magazines, not to mention books, that the Lawsonstake, you'd open your eyes. He and his family have traveled a lot morethan I have, and their home is one of the finest model farms in thecounty. There's no hayseed in their hair. "

"I didn't discover much hayseed in anybody's hair, " observed Dr. Jefferson Craig. "I think it's gone out of fashion. "

"There were some of the prettiest girls here to-night I ever saw, " wasRosalie's contribution to the list of comments. A figure of exquisitemodishness, she perched upon the porch rail near Chester. "I did want totell them not to let any one young man stick by them every minute theway they did, but I could hardly blame the young men for wanting tostick, the girls were so sweet, and some of them were quite stunning. "

"You certainly gave them an example of how to make eyes at fifteen ortwenty fellows, one after another, " laughed her brother, at her side. "You'd have had them all coming, Rosy, if they hadn't been tied up totheir respective girls. A lesson or two from you, and those girls wouldbegin to play 'round in proper shape. "

"Rosy's going to stay and take a few lessons herself, " insinuatedJeannette, who sat with her shapely young arm resting upon her father'sknee, as she occupied the step below him. "I'll promise to put someflesh on her little bones if she's here a month. She's too thin, afteronly her second season. "

"Oh, I'll stay, " promised Rosalie promptly. "I simply love it here; I'mcrazy to stay!"

"It's all very well now, " came Aunt Olivia's low murmur in Georgiana'sear--there had been many of such murmurs in the same ear during theafternoon and evening, though why, Georgiana herself could not guess, since the elder woman knew the younger to be unreservedly committed toupholding Jeannette's whole course--"very well now, in June, withflowers blooming and friends about, but how the poor child is going toface a second winter I can't imagine. "

"She faced the first one very happily, " Georgiana reminded her. 

"The first one was a novelty and of course she was determined not toacknowledge how lonely she must often have been. I do not say that JamesStuart is not a very attractive and trustworthy young man; I am fond ofhim myself--very. But I shall always feel that Jeannette has made aterrible mistake. Brought up as she has been, it is not conceivablethat she should continue to find this sort of life possible. "

It was with this moan in her ears that, a few minutes later, Georgianalistened to James Stuart. He had drawn her away from the group and wasstrolling with her across the lawn. 

"Well, George, tell me your honest opinion. Is my wife happy?"

It was a blunt question, but Georgiana understood. He asked it not to bereassured but because he was confident of the answer. 

She spoke guardedly: "I never saw her seem more so, Jimps. You are sureof it yourself?"

"I want you to ask her point-blank. Will you?"

"It's not the sort of question to ask anybody point-blank, is it?"

"It is in this case. Do you think I don't know the doubt in all yourminds?--yes, even yours, for you've become another person since youmarried Craig. "

"Oh, no!"

"Oh, yes! You've been thinking ever since you came that you're deadthankful you don't have to come back to it--now, haven't you?"

"Jimps, dear, I lived all my life in the hardest, narrowest economy. IfI had had all this beautiful experience Jean is having----"

"I know. But you wouldn't come back, even to this place of ours----"

"That's begging the question. For Jean it's a wonderful change, and anyone can see what it's done for her. "

"Physically, yes. But I want you to find out whether she's actuallyhappy or not. "

"I will, " promised his friend with a nod; for she knew James Stuart muchtoo well to imagine she could put him off without complying with hisexpressed desire. 

It looked as if Jeannette herself were anxious to assure her cousin'smind, for Stuart had no sooner brought Georgiana back to the porch thanhis wife took possession of her. 

"Georgiana, dear, I want you to tell me one thing, " began Jeannette, asthe two moved slowly a little away from the rest. "Do you think we aremaking a success of it?"

"A wonderful success, Jean. I couldn't have believed it, even what I seeon the surface. How about it--inside? That's a pretty searchingquestion, and you needn't answer it if you don't want to. Everythingabout you seems to answer it. "

Jeannette stopped short and turned to face her cousin. "Haven't Iwritten you the answer, over and over?"

"Yes. That's why I want to hear it from your own lips. "

"You shall. First, though--Georgiana, you knew Antoinette Burwellmarried Miles Channing last December?"

"I heard of it. How do they come on?"

"Separated; she's gone back to her father. She was the most wildly happybride I ever saw. Think of it, George--in six months! What do yousuppose would have happened if you----"

"Don't! I didn't. " And Georgiana's grateful thoughts went back to one ofthe crises in her life, the one from which Jefferson Craig had rescuedher. 

"Do you know the Ralph Hendersons? Married two years now--I'm sureyou've heard me speak of them. Everybody knows they quarrel like catsand dogs; they're hardly civil to each other in public. And I knowseveral more of our old set who are none too happy, if one may judge bytheir looks. Yet they all married 'in their own class, ' as mother is sofond of saying, as if I didn't!--I married _above_ it! And I am supposedto have cast away all my chances for this life, not to mention the next, by marrying my farmer! Georgiana, I'm getting to hate that word_farmer_! Why isn't there a new word made for the man who reads andstudies and uses the latest modern methods on his farm? There are such alot of them now. College graduates, like Jimps, and men who have takenagricultural courses and are putting their brains into their work. Whyisn't there a new word?"

"The old word must be made to acquire a new dignity, " Georgianasuggested. "Never mind the word; you're glad you married your farmer?"

"Glad! I thank God every night and morning; I thank Him every time I gorunning down the lane to meet my husband coming up from the meadow! Ofcourse I know, Georgiana, that the life I'm living isn't the typicallife of the farmer's wife at all--thanks to Jimps' success and my ownlittle pocket-book! But it has all outdoors in it and lots of lovelyindoors; and I'm growing so well and strong--you can see that by justlooking at me. And I'm getting to know my neighbours, and likethem--some of them--oh, so much! Life never was so full. Mother talksabout how hard I'll find it to get through my second winter. It doesn'tworry me. We'll order books and books, and we'll go for splendid tramps, and every now and then we'll run into town--for concerts and plays. Andbest of all, Georgiana, "--her voice sank--"I'm sure--sure--Jimps isn'tdisappointed in me. "

"Disappointed! I should say not--the lucky boy!" Georgiana agreed, allher fears gone to the winds. 

 * * * * *

When they returned to the porch it was to hear an outcry fromJeannette's mother: "Chester Crofton! Have you gone absolutely crazy?"

"I think so, mother. Positively dippy. Got it in its worst form. It'sbeen coming on me for some time, but it's taken me now, for better orfor worse. I'm going to buy that small farm across the road and try whatI can do. "

"I'll back you, " came in Mr. Thomas Crofton's deepest chest tones. 

"Hear, hear!" Dr. Jefferson Craig's shout drowned out Mrs. Crofton'sgroan. 

"O Ches--I'll come and keep house for you--part of the year, anyhow!"This was dainty Rosalie, her silk-stockinged ankles swinging wildly, asshe sat upon the porch rail. 

Georgiana was laughing, as her eyes met her husband's in a glance ofunderstanding, but her heart was very warm behind the laughter. 

Beyond the gleam of the lanterns she caught the golden glow of a summermoon rising, to illumine the depths of the country sky--the immense, star-spangled arch of the heavens. Beneath lay many homes, big andlittle, all filled with human lives, each with its chance somehow togrow; each with its chance, small or great, as a beloved writer has saidinspiringly, "_to love and to work and to play and to look up at thestars. _"

THE END