Three Little Women’s Success

It is probable that not even those who loved her best realized how Jean had loved the pet which had been her daily companion for nearly four years. The very fact that she had rescued him from a miserable death, nursed and tended him to restored health, had felt his love for her growing with each day, made Baltie nearer and dearer to her than a young, vigorous horse could ever have been.

Baltie was now resting in his lowly bed at the foot of the garden, but Jean did not cease to grieve for him. When Mammy had found her with Baltie’s head in her lap that morning there had been a pathetic little scene—for Mammy loved the old horse as dearly as Jean loved him; but had she been entirely indifferent to him, the fact that her baby loved him would have been enough to exalt him above all other animals in Mammy’s sight. Jean was utterly exhausted by her grief and benumbed from her cramped position when Mammy found her, and the good old soul was genuinely alarmed when she tried to help the child to her feet. Baltie’s weight and her cramped position had completely arrested circulation. In spite of her own grief Mammy lifted Baltie’s head from Jean’s lap, laid it gently upon the straw and then helped the girl up, or tried to, for Jean was too numb to stand.

“Bress Gawd, what comin’ to us nex’?” she cried, half carrying Jean to the house, where Constance met them.

It was hours before Jean could walk unaided, and many days before the girl smiled again. Mrs. Carruth grew troubled, and one afternoon spoke to Hadyn about her.

“I am so distressed about it. She is filled with remorse for having taken Baltie out that night, and that, added to her grief for him, is making the child positively ill. I have done my best to make her understand that Baltie had already lived far beyond a horse’s allotted years, and that very soon he must have come into his long rest, but I seem to make no impression.”

“If I had been on hand when needed he would be alive this minute, and my little girl happy and cheery as ever,” protested Hadyn. “I’ll never, never forgive myself that lapse as long as I live, and nothing I can do will ever atone for it. It was the most contemptible failure of which I have ever been guilty; but I declare to you, I’m going to do something to make reparation. Where is Jean now?”

“She went down to the Arcade for Constance about an hour ago, but she ought to be back very soon.”

“I’ll walk down and meet my little sister. I’ve a scheme simmering far back in my witless mind which may take form and shape if I can keep awake. Au revoir, little mother,” and with the grace so characteristic of him, Hadyn raised her hand and pressed his lips to it! There was no one on earth he loved as he loved this gentle, gracious woman.

Riveredge in its late April dress was very dainty. She seemed to be preparing for Easter, which this year fell late in the month, and over all the world lay the softest veil of gossamer green. The air was redolent of cherry and apple blossoms, and filled with bird notes.

As Hadyn walked down the steep roadway, which led from the Carruth’s to the broader highway, he saw Jean coming toward him and waved his hand in greeting. As he hurried toward her he called:

A quick light sprung into Jean’s eyes. “I like that,” she said, with a quaint, little upraising of her head.

“I like to have a man bow as you do, Champion. Because I’m only fourteen and still wear short skirts some of them seem to think a nod and ‘how-d’-do’ is all that is required of them, but I don’t agree with them.”

Hadyn did not betray the amusement this characteristic little comment caused him. He knew Jean to be more observing of the amenities than most girls of her age, and that all her Southern instincts demanded the chivalrous attention which generations of her ancestors had received from men. Many of her girl friends laughed at her and teased her, but that did not lower her standard of what was due womanhood from manhood.

“It wouldn’t make one bit of difference whether I had given you that name or not, you couldn’t be different.”

“Nowhere in particular. Amy is away and Connie up to her eyes in the month’s accounts. So I’m adrift.”

“How would you like to come for a walk in the woods with me? I am not going back to the office this afternoon, for the fever is on me. The call of the woods gets into my blood sometimes, and then I’ve got to tramp. Only trouble is, I can’t always get a tramping companion. Will you come?”

“She won’t, because she knows I came to ask you to go with me if I could find you.”

They struck into a side road, which presently became a mere wood path leading up the mountain, and from which a little higher up an exquisite picture of the river and opposite mountains could be seen. Hadyn, pausing at a broad, flat rock, said:

Jean dropped down upon the lichen-covered rock, warm and dry in the afternoon sunshine which fell upon it, and said:

“Isn’t it beautiful? Isn’t all the world beautiful? Why need anybody or anything in it ever die, and why will other people make them. Oh, Champion, if I only hadn’t made Baltie!” and quick tears sprung into her eyes. During the two weeks since Baltie’s death Jean had actually lost flesh and grown pale in her sorrow and remorse for what she believed to be purely the result of her want of thought.

“Little sister, do you know how that hurts me? It was not your want of forethought that night, but my faithlessness which carried you out into that terrible storm, and I shall never, never forgive myself. You might have been the victim instead of old Baltie, but as it is his life paid the penalty of my lapse. True, he was very old and might not have lived a great deal longer, but his end certainly would not have been hastened, or your loving heart grieving as it now is had I done my duty. Can you ever forgive me, dear?”

As Hadyn talked a swift change swept over Jean’s expressive face; a new light sprung into her eyes, and she said:

“Why, Champion, I never for one single second blamed you. Did you think I did? Oh, you couldn’t think that, not when you know how dearly I love you, and how good you’ve always been to Baltie and me. Why, you saved his life, you know, and have always helped me look out for him; and you’ve done hundreds and hundreds of things for us both. Please, please never say that again. You didn’t know I was going to signal that night.”

“Ah, but I did know it, and it was only upon that condition that Constance consented to go upstairs to bed. She thought she could trust me to answer that signal, but you see she couldn’t, and all this is the result. You are grieving for your pet until you are almost ill from it, and I feel like—like, oh, like the most contemptible thing that ever happened. What can I do to help, little one? It hurts me to see you or yours unhappy.”

“I shall not be unhappy,” was Jean’s instant assertion. “I do miss Baltie terribly, for I loved him, and—and he seemed so much mine, and was so good and faithful—” here a little sob checked her words. Hadyn slipped his arms about her, and she leaned her head upon his shoulder. This big “brother” was a great source of strength and comfort to her. Then she resumed: “But I shall not let it make you unhappy, too. I dare say I am silly—the girls laugh at me and say I am, but I can’t help it—when I love anybody, or anything, I love them, and that’s all there is about it. Baltie knew me better than he knew anyone else, and loved me better. No one knows or believes how he understood me, or I him, and it is no use trying to make them; but I feel as if some part of me had gone without having him to love and visit and pet every day, and have him snuggle up to me. I wish horses could have monuments raised to their memory, and some record kept of their good deeds and faithfulness for people to read. My goodness, more good things could be said of Baltie this minute, and they’d be true, too, than can be said of that dreadful old Jabe Raulsbury; and yet when he died last year they put up a tombstone for him the very first thing, and what do you think they had inscribed on it?”

“I’m sure I don’t know,” and Hadyn smiled at the thought of any commendatory legend being placed upon the monument of the irascible Jabe, whose life had been one long series of quarrels with his neighbors, brutality to the dumb creatures which had lucklessly fallen into his hands, and whose last act had been to fly into a wild rage and beat his wife. Fortunately, it had been his last transgression, for a neighbor, hearing her screams, had rushed to her aid, and Jabe, hearing his approach, and starting to escape by a back door, had pitched headlong through an open trap-door and into his cellar. Several broken bones and some internal injuries brought him his just desserts of four months’ torture, ending in his death, and the town drew a sigh of relief. Then his widow erected a monument to his memory. It bore this memorial to the deceased Jabe:

“A loving husband, tender brother.

Never shall we find another,”

The first statement was open to doubt, also, the second, for Ned Raulsbury, who had not had the pleasure of fraternal intercourse with his brother Jabe for many years, unless a ten years’ lawsuit to secure his own share of the estate represented it, probably congratulated himself that he was not likely to “find another.”

Jean repeated the legend with infinite scorn, and Hadyn laughed outright. Then growing serious again, he said:

“Perhaps a better record of Jabe’s true character is preserved in his neighbors’ memory of him, and I should think that Mrs. Raulsbury might now draw her first free breath. It is true that a man’s death can sometimes bring oblivion of his evil deeds. Poor old Baltie might have told a few of Jabe’s, but even had he possessed human speech I doubt if he would have so employed it. Baltie was a gentleman. And, Little Sister, as a gentleman he must have a monument. Yes, I mean it. A shaft shall mark the old horse’s resting-place down there in the garden, and I shall have it erected; it is the least I can do under the circumstances. Don’t say anything about it to anyone. What would you like inscribed on it, dear?”

As Hadyn talked in his deep, softly-modulated voice, Jean’s face grew radiant. At his concluding question she clasped his hand in both of hers and pressed her lips to it again and again, exclaiming:

“No one but you would ever have understood! No, not anyone. You have always understood; right from the very first day I knew you. Baltie would never have been saved on that awful day, or ever have been mine at all, if it hadn’t been for you, Champion, and oh, how hard, hard, hard I love you for it. Please don’t ever go away from us; I couldn’t live without you now; none of us could; you’ll be just one of us always, won’t you, Champion?”

Jean was too deeply in earnest to be aware that Hadyn’s face was flushing, or of the strange expression creeping into his eyes: a light of wonderful tenderness and yearning. He looked steadily into the eyes regarding him so earnestly as he said:

“Little Sister, do you realize that your home is the only real home I have known in many years? That when you and Eleanor and Constance agreed to share with me ‘a part of Mother,’ as you so sweetly expressed it, you made me your debtor forever and ever? Can you understand how very dear that little Mother of yours is to me, or how much her daughters’ welcome into their home has done to spare me a great many lonely hours? True, there are many friends in the outer world, but that house was once my Mother’s home, you know, and all my boyhood was spent in it. To go back to it under almost any conditions would seem almost like entering my own doors, but to be welcomed to it as I have been makes it—well, some day you may understand just what it does make it, little girl. And now I want to tell you something else: You miss old Baltie, I know, and nothing can ever quite fill his place for you, but your heart is big, true and warm enough to hold another, isn’t it? For some time I have been dissatisfied with the care given Comet down in that South Riveredge boarding stable. They are careless in grooming him, and someone, I can’t find out which man, is not treating him kindly. Comet never knew the meaning of a harsh or impatient word until he went there, never feared a blow——”

“Not exactly strike him, I think, but there are many ways of making a high-strung, thoroughbred horse’s life a torture. A sudden slap when grooming him, a shout if he does not step around briskly, or even a blow on his muzzle with the curry-comb. They may not inflict any great amount of pain, but they soon get on his nerves, and the next thing we know we have a horse that starts and plunges at the first sharp word; jerks his head up if anyone raises a hand toward it; shrinks at the sight of a curry-comb as from an instrument of torture. Comet never before manifested any of those signs, but now I’m beginning to notice them, and I don’t like it a little bit. I wouldn’t have that horse ruined for ten times his price in dollars, and so I’m going to see what I can do to place him where all chance of it will be removed.”

“Where, where are you going to send him?” cried Jean, clasping her hands in her eagerness.

“How would you like to have him come and live down yonder with you?” asked Hadyn, nodding toward Jean’s home, which could be seen from their woodland nook.

“In our stable: Comet? To be there all the time so I could go out to see him every single day, and he’d grow to love me just as Baltie did? Do you really mean it? Could I?”

“I think Comet will meet your advances more than half way. He has been treated like a child since his colthood, and you know how he understands me. I’ve had a long talk with the little mother, and she has agreed to let me keep Comet down there, and my man Parsons is to take care of him, to sleep in the coachman’s room upstairs and board with Mammy. You know most of his color find ‘just naturally doing nothing’ quite to their liking; but Parsons seems to be of different clay, so we will make him happy by keeping him busy. Good plan all around, don’t you think so?”

“I think you are just the splendidest, dearest man that ever lived, and Comet shall have the best care in all the world, and if any living being so much as points a finger at him I’ll—I’ll—well, I just tell you, they’d better not! Now, let’s go right back home and tell Connie all about it. You know she loves Comet as much as you or I love him, and she’ll be tickled to death to have him right there,” and Jean bounded to her feet all enthusiasm, her eyes shining and cheeks glowing, for something to love and care for was absolutely essential to Jean’s happiness.

And so it came to pass that about a week later Comet was installed in the Carruth stable, and if ever a horse came into an earthly paradise, Comet came into one in this new home.

Jean was in a rapture, and truly no horse-lover could fail to fall complete victim to Comet’s charms. It was the balm needed for Jean’s sorrow for Baltie, and when, in the course of the following weeks, a granite shaft was placed over Baltie’s grave, the little girl was as happy as she well could be.

                    TO BALTIE.



_For Thirty Years a Faithful Friend and Servitor._



        Perhaps in some more blissful realm

        Your eyes will beam on us again,

        And we shall find that great and small,

        God _is_ the father of us all.

CHAPTER XV—Mammy Makes a Discovery.

June had come, and with June came Eleanor’s graduation. During her various holidays Eleanor had returned to Riveredge, and with each return of Eleanor there was vigorous renewal of visits from Homer Forbes. Forbes seemed deeply occupied in the intervals, and those most interested in the progress of affairs at the Irving School wondered at his long absence during the afternoons and his frequent walks up the mountain to a plateau at its summit. More than once had some of the pupils of the Irving School met him as he strolled along toward it, head bent in deepest meditation, hat drawn down over his eyes, hands clasped behind him, and “munchin’, munchin’, munchin’, fer all de spi’t an’ image ob a goat,” said Mammy, who frequently came upon him as he passed through the Arcade, for he never set forth upon his rambles without fortifying himself with a box of Constance’s candies.

Since the fall Jean had not journeyed to the Irving School with her candies, so the sweet-tooth Forbes was obliged to go after his sweeties or do without them. But it did not seem to inconvenience him. The Arcade lay upon his way, and nothing short of dynamite was ever likely to hurry him. He would buy his box of chocolates and start off, leaving behind him a little trail of the paraffin papers in which they had been wrapped, and by which anyone so minded might have followed him miles. Sometimes, if he had absent-mindedly forgotten to eat any luncheon, he would supplement his box of candies with some of Mammy’s sandwiches, and it was upon one of these occasions that his call at Mammy’s counter led to a curious disclosure.

With the warm spring weather Charles’ health improved steadily; but Mammy had no idea of risking a repetition of her recent experiences by permitting Charles to take needless risks. On dull days or damp ones Charles must bide at home in his cottage, or do little indoor jobs for his mistress. True, Hadyn’s man left very little for the old man to do, for Hadyn had been very careful to tell Parsons that Mrs. Carruth must not want for any service he could render her, and at the same time tactfully spare old Charles’ feelings. And Parsons was a clever young negro, as well as a devoted one to Hadyn.

And it so fell out that Mammy went down to the Arcade rather oftener than usual that spring, and consequently saw many things. Among others was the frequency with which Mr. Elijah Sniffins haunted Arch Number One.

Now, Mammy had absolutely no use for Mr. Elijah Sniffins, as may be remembered. Of course, she conceded him the right to purchase all the candy he wished; but why should he dawdle over his selection, and then tarry to talk with Miss Boggs until the girl seemed almost panic stricken? As near as Mammy could discover, she wished him anywhere but in Arch Number One, and one Saturday morning Mammy took it upon herself to keep a sharp lookout. Several times during the morning she made excuses to go down to the counter for boxes of candy for some of her own customers, and twice found Sniffins there engaged in a very confidential conversation with Miss Boggs. Upon her approach he made most impressive bows to the young lady, and departed with slow insolence.

“’Pears lak dat man powerful set ’pon dese hyer candies,” remarked Mammy.

“Oh, yes, for some time,” was the hasty answer. “Did you want some more of those pralines, Mammy?” and Miss Boggs fluttered nervously among the boxes in the case, bending low to avoid Mammy’s sharp eyes. As Mammy stood talking Homer Forbes came strolling up to the candy counter.

“Good-morning, Mammy Blairsdale. As usual, you have a watchful eye upon Miss Constance’s interests, I see.”

“Mor’in’, Marsa Fo’bes. Yas, sir. Dat’s what ma eyes were done give me fo’, an’ dey ain’t often playin’ me no tricks, neider. Dey’s good, sharp eyes, if dey is ol’ ones,” was Mammy’s sibyl-like answer.

“You proved that fact to me many months ago,” said Forbes, with one of his whimsical, inscrutable smiles. “I should hate to have a guilty conscience and have you cast your eyes upon me. I’d give myself away as sure as shooting. I’d be sure you’d read my secret if I had one. Lucky I haven’t!”

“Yas, sir, ’tis. Mos’ culled folks has de gif ob secon’ sight, dey say. I ain’t rightly know what secon’ sight is mase’f, but I knows dis much p’intedly: I knows dat dey ain’t many folks what kin fool me fer long. Dey like ’nough fool me a little while, but I ketches dem sooner or later. Yas, sah, I does. Yo’ gwine for one ob yo’ strolls terday? ’Pears lak yo’ powerful taken wid dat mountain walk, yo’ go ’long up dat a-way so f’equently. Better stop ter ma lunch counter an’ git a snack ter take ’long wid yo’.”

How innocent the words, yet what a strange effect they produced upon Miss Boggs. Forbes did not notice it at all, but Mammy missed nothing.

“Good idea. I’ll be along presently,” said Forbes, as he selected his box of chocolates, and reached into the pocket of his trousers for the change, rather abstractedly staring at Miss Boggs as he did so. The girl seemed greatly disconcerted by the look, though, as a matter of fact, Forbes himself was barely aware of her presence. It was not lost upon Mammy, who had given one swift, backward glance as she turned to go down the Arcade. A moment later Forbes reached her counter.

“Give me a good snack to-day, Mammy Blairsdale. I’ve much on my mind these days, and must keep the brain well fed.”

“Reckons yo’ll find dat wholesome-lak,” returned Mammy, handing him a neat little package.

“None ’tall lessen yo’ drap it, er sits on it. If yo’ does dat it’ll squash.”

“Ain’t I say nothin’, sah?—wid de complements ob de firm,” was Mammy’s grandiloquent answer. Then, coming closer, she asked:

“Massa Fo’bes, I wonner if yo’ kin he’p me wid somepin what’s pesterin’ ma min’ mightily?”

“None yo’ kin see. I means de one dat’s yonder at Miss Constance’s counter.”

“No, she ain’t,” contradicted Mammy, emphatically. “She may call herse’f Miss Boggs if she wanter, but I’ll bait yo’ she ain’t Miss Boggs no mo’n I’m Miss Brown! I’se seen dat girl somewhar’s else befo’, an’ I’se gwine ter fin’ more ’bout her dan I knows now. She favors someone else I knows, an’ I ain’t got er mite er use fer dat someone else, neider. Is yo’ know Mr. ’Lijer Sniffins?”

“Yes, by sight, and enough to have him insure the few worldly goods I possess.”

“He’s at dat counter de hull endurin’ time, ’specially when he git a notion Miss Constance gwine come down, and he’n dat girl jes’ as thick as thieves.”

“Gawd bress ma soul, no, sir. I means dat Miss Boggs; an’ what I wants ter fin’ out is what fo’ he got any call ter jist na’chelly live dar.”

“Maybe it’s a charming romance right under your very eyes, Mammy Blairsdale. Surely you do not wish to play the kill-joy?”

“Kill-joy! Huh!” retorted Mammy. “I ain’t gwine be no fool, neider. I tells yo’ I never is like dat man, an’ if he’s takin’ ter pesterin’ dat girl he gotter quit; an’ if ’tain’t de girl it’s some other divilmint he got in his haid. I ain’ trus’ him no furder’n I kin see his shadder; no, I ain’.”

“If he ain’t bin dar, he bin whar he kin watch her ’thout her s’pici’nin’ it. Time’n agin I’se done seen him tip in dat men’s furnishin’ Arch, Number Six, pertendin’ lak he buyin’ neckties an’ all kynds ob fummadiddles. Reckon he do buy a heap, too, for he jes’ splurgin’ fer fair dese days.”

“Dare say he is trying to make a good impression upon the lady of his heart,” laughed Forbes.

“D’ssay he tryn’ fer ter mak’ a ’pression on someone else, an’ he better quit if he knows what’s good fer him. Now, what dat girl scuttlin’ down yonder fer?” was her quick exclamation. Over Forbes’ shoulder she had caught sight of Miss Boggs hurrying down the corridor, ostensibly toward the lavatory.

“Candy makes her fingers sticky, Mammy Blairsdale,” was Forbes’ half-idle comment as he turned to look over his shoulder in the direction of Mammy’s glance. At that very instant Miss Boggs’ profile was distinctly outlined against the white marble wall behind her, and, strange coincidence, Elijah Sniffins, turning suddenly around the corner, came face to face with her. For a brief second each face was distinctly outlined, then the man and girl passed their opposite ways.

But in that instant Forbes had received an impression swift as an electric shock. When he turned to look at Mammy, she remarked:

“Reckons yo’ ain’t so near-sighted as dem glasses ’ceivin’ folks inter believin’, sah.”

“Guess I’ll cut out the stroll up Mount Parnassus and look after my insurance. I’m afraid I ought to renew that premium pretty soon. Good-bye, Mammy Blairsdale. I’ll see you later.”

With his package of luncheon and box of candies, and, as usual, leaving a trail of paraffin papers behind him, Forbes strolled out of the Arcade, incidentally noting that Sniffins was selecting cigars at the counter next Mammy’s. Once he was beyond the portals of the Arcade, his accustomed deliberation of air and manner fell from him, and with a muttered “I’ll learn what is back of all that or jump overboard” he sped along toward State Street at a rate which would have startled his friends had any chanced to meet him.

“Right you are, son!” and turning Forbes pretended to leave the office. Suddenly pausing, he whirled around to say:

“Give me Sniffins’ home address; I’ll ’phone to him there this evening.” It was a venture, but worth while.

“Day,” and the boy returned to the fascinations of “Tom, the Cow-puncher.”

Then Forbes went his way up the mountains, having accomplished his object much quicker than he had hoped to. Had anyone been watching him, once he reached the summit, they might have questioned his sanity. Deliberately placing his candy box and his luncheon upon a stump, he began pacing off distances: twenty long strides toward the river, then twenty at right-angles, pausing to peer toward the mighty stream flowing six hundred feet below him, for the cliffs were precipitous at that point.

“Good site. Magnificent view. Constant inspiration. Bound to succeed. Purely classical. This will emphasize the illusion. But it must not prove an illusion; no, not for a moment. It will be a beautiful reality—a crystallized dream. We will set up our Lares and Penates in its very center—ahem! I mean—I mean—well I’ll try to persuade her to set hers up beside mine. Wonderful girl! extraordinary, very! Fell in with my idea at once—at least thought the plan—what was it she pronounced it? Ah, I recall, ‘truly altruistic.’ Truly altruistic. Yes, that was it. Excellent choice of words. Invariably apt and to the point. Yes, the building shall face this way. Her window—my Lord!” and the monologue came to an abrupt end as the speaker, turning a vivid scarlet, made a grab for his edibles, and, seating himself upon a warm rock, began to devour his luncheon with the dispatch of the animal Mammy insisted he resembled. The sun was sinking into the West when Forbes came strolling up to Mrs. Carruth’s piazza, where the family had gathered for their afternoon tea which old Charles was serving. It was the delight of Charles’ heart to serve this little repast.

This time it was iced tea and lemonade, with some of Mammy’s flaky jumbles and a box of Constance’s candy. That piazza was an inviting spot. Hammocks, lounging chairs and bamboo settees made it more than luxurious, and the family spent all the time possible in this corner, which seemed to catch every passing breeze from the river.

They rose to welcome their guest and offer him refreshment. It was Eleanor who first reached him, and it was beside Eleanor he ensconced himself upon one of the pillow-laden settees.

“Where on earth have you been, you tramp?” asked Hadyn where he swayed idly back and forth in a hammock, Jean nestling beside him. Jean was never ten feet from Hadyn if she could help it. His arm encircled her, and her head rested against his shoulder as she watched Forbes. Jean was growing into a very beautiful young girl, though still a child at heart. “A thin slip of a girl like a new morn” exactly described her. Though Jean was not thin. She was simply lithe and supple.

“Just on one of my strolls up the mountain. Great old mountain! Fine view up there! Wonderful place for a residence!” replied Forbes, devouring jumbles at an alarming rate and quenching his thirst with glass after glass of lemonade.

“Great if you have an idea of perfecting an aeroplane. Personally, I’d not relish rambling up there twice daily, and at present the trail leaves something to be desired for vehicles which navigate upon this mundane sphere,” laughed Hadyn.

“How do you know that Mr. Forbes hasn’t already invented an air-ship?” asked Constance. “I hear he goes up there very often, and he may have ways and means of which we are ignorant.”

“Only Shank’s mare,” answered Forbes, stretching out a pair of long, dusty legs. “Jove! I am a sight. I didn’t know I was so disreputable. Beg your pardon, Mrs. Carruth, for intruding upon you like this. Truth is, I hurried down that trail like an avalanche, for I’d spent more time at Mammy’s counter than usual. By the way, Miss Constance, Mammy asked me to look up an address for her. Will you please give it to her for me?”

“Six-twenty Westbank Road!” repeated Constance, in a surprised voice. “Why, that is Katherine Boggs’ address, and I am almost sure that Mammy knows it. Why did she ask for Katherine’s address, I wonder?”

“Don’t know, I’m sure, for Mammy’s ways and wishes are beyond the ken of the average mortal,” laughed Forbes, as he rose to take leave. As he was about to descend the steps he turned to Eleanor.

“By the way, if you haven’t anything special on hand for to-morrow afternoon, won’t you come for a stroll with me?” he asked.

“Now, don’t you do it, Eleanor,” broke in Hadyn. “He means to drag you clear to the top of that mountain, and these July days are over-warm for violent exertion. Can’t you see, Forbes, that the very thought of it is making her cheeks flush?”

“Here, eat another jumble, quick!” cried Constance, catching up the plate and rushing to the hammock.

Eleanor and Forbes had sauntered off down the terrace. Hadyn took a jumble, and with a laugh crowded the whole cake into his mouth, his eyes dancing with mischief.

“One of them has more than he can manage,” was Constance’s merry reply. “Look at him, Mammy. It was the only way I could close his mouth when he was inclined to say more than was wise.”

“Don’ believe dat, nohow. Marse Hadyn ain’ never is ter say wha’ he no b’isness ter,” asserted Mammy.

“Oh, Mammy,” called Constance after the retreating figure. “Mr. Forbes says the address you wanted is 620 Westbank Road.”

“Huh? Wha’ yo’ say?” cried Mammy, whirling about and coming out upon the piazza again, her face a study.

“Yes, Miss Boggs’ address, Mammy. Why did you ask Mr. Forbes about it? I could have given it to you, you know.”

“My Lawd!” was Mammy’s brief retort, and, turning as quickly as she had come, she hurried indoors once more.

“I shall never understand Mammy if I live to be a hundred years old” said Constance. “I often believe I’ve solved her riddle, then presto! here comes a new phase.”

“Leave her alone, Constance. Don’t try to solve it. Just take her as she is, and make sure that her ‘chillen’ come first in her thoughts,” said Hadyn. “But, by the by, will you come for a ride to-morrow afternoon?”

CHAPTER XVI—Mammy a Sherlock Holmes.

During the following week Independence Day was celebrated, and such had become the fame of both Mammy’s luncheons and Constance’s candies, that these two busy women found every moment filled more than full.

Each had reason to remember another July Fourth, and Mary Willing most reason of all. The Mary Willing of this year bore little resemblance to the Mary Willing of that one, and a happier girl it would have been hard to find. Fanny was now staying with Mary, sharing with her the pretty little room in Mrs. Carruth’s home, and had quite won her way into Mrs. Carruth’s heart by her sweet, gentle ways.

During the spring poor, shiftless Jim Willing had taken himself and his family out West, thanks to Hadyn’s influence in securing for him a position upon a large farm in Minnesota, where he was not only compelled to work, but where also, thanks to Hadyn, he could not loaf and drink, for the man whom he served was not to be trifled with. In May the family had emigrated, to the intense satisfaction of those most deeply interested in Mary and Fanny, and the boundless relief of their neighbors.

In the course of the week which followed her suspicions concerning Katherine Boggs, Mammy began to lay her plans, and, as usual, with her accustomed shrewdness. She did not wish Constance to suspect her interference, but she was fully resolved to get to the bottom of the matter. Mammy had already formed her opinion, and Mammy was not often wrong. Fate seemed to favor her, for one morning, when she happened to be at her counter, Elijah Sniffins entered the Arcade, and going to the cigar stand bought a cigar, which he lighted and began to smoke. He then strolled down toward the candy counter. It was a warm, sultry day, with scarcely a breath stirring. The window giving upon the street in the Arch was open, as was the door leading from Constance’s little office, to a short hall communicating with the side street. From her counter Mammy watched Sniffins until he entered the candy Arch, and then slipping out of the rear door of the Arcade made her way around the block and entered Constance’s office by the side door.

For greater protection Constance had hung China silk curtains across the grillwork, which divided her office from the counter, but these, while affording her perfect seclusion, did not cut off the sound of a customer’s footfalls.

Under ordinary circumstances, Mammy would have scorned to resort to such measures to obtain her end, but she felt pretty sure that her Miss Constance was being tricked for some purpose, and felt herself justified in fighting fire with fire.

With exceptional wisdom for her years Constance had arranged with Charles and Mammy a little code of signals on the electric buttons beside her desk and under the counter in her Arch. The signals had served to good purpose, as has already been shown, for old Charles had come most opportunely when needed one morning. The code was simple: One ring meant, “Are you there?”; two, “Come to my counter”; three, “Please ’phone up to Mr. Porter that Miss Carruth needs him at once.” This last call was clearly an emergency call and had never been put to the test; but both Mammy and Charles, as well as the young colored boy who served at Mammy’s counter, knew that it must not be disregarded for one instant if it did come. Constance never knew why she had added it to the simple little code, for she certainly never anticipated any special need for it. Still, it was a comfort to the young girl to feel that, should anything serious occur, she could instantly turn to Mr. Porter.

Mammy entered the office unheard by the two people in the Arch, the rumble of vehicles in the street drowning all sound of her footfalls. Sniffins was standing at the counter in earnest conversation with Miss Boggs. Presently Mammy overheard these words:

“Ah, shut up that stuff. What does she do for you, anyway! Nothin’ mor’n anybody else would, an’ she gets enough out o’ you for seven dollars a week. Gosh, she’s makin’ seventy if she’s makin’ a cent. Here, lemme see that last memorandum of sales made.”

“I don’t see why you want it. I don’t see what good it does you, anyway, to know how much candy is sold here,” was the querulous answer.

“Ah, what do you know, anyway? You never did have enough sense to go in out of the rain. I know what I want it for. When I’m sure this business is makin’ the right-sized pile, I’m goin’—well, never mind what I’m going to do. But what I want you to do right now is to strike for ten dollars a week—see? You’ve been here six months on seven dollars, an’ that’s long and plenty. Now we’re going to have more of the profits.”

“All right, all right. Then you can dust your sweet self out of 620 mighty quick. No happy home for you of my puttin’ up unless you do as I say, Miss Prude. Now where’s that memorandum I want?”

As he spoke Lige made a move as though he intended to go behind the counter. Poor, simple little Katherine! She had never been intended to play a double game.

At that moment Mammy pressed the button four times. Here was a situation needing a firmer hand than hers. A moment later the boy at Mammy’s Arch was ’phoning up to Mr. Porter’s office.

“Please, sir, I just got four rings from Miss Carruth’s candy Arch, and Mrs. Blairsdale, she say if ever I git that, I must call you up right smart, and ask you please to go there, ’cause Miss Constance ain’t never goin’ to ring four rings unless she need you quick.”

“I’ll be there inside of two minutes, Fred,” and the receiver was snapped back.

“Get away, Lige; are you crazy?” cried Katherine, under her breath, at the same time foolishly making a dash for her pocketbook which lay upon a shelf behind her. As she clasped it Lige caught her wrist in a grip which made her cry aloud in pain. At that moment Mr. Porter entered the Arch. Lige dropped Katherine’s arm and made a dash for Constance’s sanctum, but Mammy had anticipated all this; she had shut and locked the door leading to the side street.

“Mebby yo’ t’ink mos’ eve’ybody as big a fool as yo’ is, Mr. Sniffins, but yo’ see dey’s some wise an’ hones’ ones yit, don’ yo’? Now, sah, yo’ set yo’sef right spang down on dat ar’ cheer t’will I ax yo’ a few ques’ions, wha’ Massa Po’tah gwine hyar, an’ dat po’ li’l fool out yonder gwine ’splain ef we ses-so. Yas, Massa Po’tah, I’se runnin’ t’ings just now, an’, please, sah, keep yo’ eye on dat skunk, fo’ I tells yo’ he ain’t nothin’ in de roun’ worl’ else. Now, Miss Sniffins, yo’ please, ma’am, come on hyar, too, fo’ yo’s needed p’intedly.”

In spite of the serious side of the question, Mr. Porter could not help smiling at Mammy’s generalship. Sniffins stood in the middle of the room, glowering like a trapped animal, and Katherine entered it trembling like a leaf. Notwithstanding her righteous wrath, Mammy could not help pitying the shrinking little figure, and, placing a chair for her, she said kindly:

“Dar, dar, chile, don’ yo’ git so pannicky. Nobody ain’ gwine kill yo’ whilst Massa Po’tah an’ me close by, dough, Gawd knows wha’ dat low-down sumpin’-nurrer lak ter do if he git a chance; I ain’ speculatin’.”

“Mammy, what is the meaning of all this?” interrupted Mr. Porter at this juncture.

“Dat’s jist ’xactly what I don’ sent fo’ yo’ fer ter fin’ out, sah. Dere’s been some sort of debbilmint gwine on hyar fer a right smart while, an’ I’se made it ma b’isness fer ter git scent of it an’ trail it, I has. Dat ar’—dat ar’, my Gawd! I spec’s I gotter call him a man kase dar don’ seem to be no yether name fo’ him, but he’s at de bottom ob it, an’ wha’ fo’ he is, is jist what I means fer ter fin’ out befo’ I lets him outer dis hyar office. Now, sah, Massa Po’tah, yo’ kin hab de bench an’ question de prisoner.”

Porter had seen enough upon entering the Arch to make him realize that Mammy had pretty good grounds for her words and the rage which seemed to almost consume her. Ordinarily Mammy’s face was wonderfully serene, but Mammy was a pure-blooded African negro, born of an African slave captured and brought to the United States when the slave trade was a flourishing and disgraceful source of revenue, and Mammy was born not long after her mother’s capture. In moments of excitement all her racial characteristics dominated to a degree that transformed her. At the present moment there was a fierce conflict between heredity and tradition, and the environment and training of a lifetime.

“Mammy, tell me what took place before I came upon the scene,” said Mr. Porter. “I mean within the last half hour, not before.”

Mammy repeated all she had seen and heard. As she talked Mr. Porter rang the janitor’s bell. When the man appeared he said to him: “Get Terry and wait with him out in the main corridor. Do it quickly, and don’t make a fuss.” Terry was the house detective.

“Now, Sniffins, sit down and explain what I saw as I entered the Arch. There is something wrong here, and I’ve got to get to the bottom of it right off. It will be useless to beat about the bush now. Mammy has seen and heard enough to make things very disagreeable for you, I fancy, and certainly I’ve seen pleasanter spectacles than your conduct with Miss Boggs as I entered——”

Sniffins would not answer. Mr. Porter turned to the trembling little figure at the opposite side of the room, real pity in his kind eyes. Sniffins glowered at her. Catching the look, Mr. Porter turned upon him like lightning.

“If you try to intimidate that child, by the great Jehosaphat I’ll either give myself the satisfaction of thrashing you, or turning you over to Terry on an accusation you’ll not like. Now quit it! You haven’t a thing in the world to fear, Miss Boggs; I guess it is all far less grave than it seems to you this minute. So tell me the whole truth.”

Mr. Porter’s voice had changed rapidly from the severe tones directed toward Sniffins, and now held only encouragement for the terrified girl. After a few spasmodic sobs she faced him and said:

“No, Mr. Porter, I shall not try to keep up this deceit any longer. I told Lige when I began it that it would be useless. I’m not the kind of girl who can do such things; I’m not smart enough.”

“Reckons yo’s too smart fer ter try ter be what he is,” broke in Mammy. Mr. Porter held up his hand to enjoin silence, but if Mammy consented to keep her tongue still, she could still wag her head and use her eyes, and to some purpose.

“Lige is my brother. He wanted me to take the situation. At first I did not know why he was so anxious for me to. I thought it was just because he wanted me to have one which he believed might lead to something a good deal better later on, because Miss Carruth’s candy business was growing fast, and I might get to be a forewoman, or something like that. You see, I used to know Mary Willing at school, and she and Fanny are both doing so well, but——” and Katherine hesitated.

“Go on, Miss Sniffins,” said Mr. Porter, encouragingly; but the look Elijah Sniffins gave his sister was not pleasant.

“Well, he just made me take this place, and wouldn’t let me tell my real name; and I’ve been scared nearly to death every day of my life for fear Mary Willing would come down here, and that would be the end of it all. But that wasn’t the worst; pretty soon I guessed just why Lige wanted me here, and—and—oh, it seemed as though I just couldn’t stand it another minute; I was so ashamed. Miss Carruth is so kind to me, and has always been.”

“Oh, I can’t tell it,” cried the girl, turning scarlet and burying her face in her hands.

“It will be better to do so here than to do so elsewhere, will it not? I am determined to get to the bottom of all this, now that I have begun, and much prefer to keep it quiet for the sake of all concerned. I think I already guess more than you realize. I shall ask a few questions to make it easier for you?”

“She ain’t got to answer none if she don’t want ter,” was Elijah’s surly remark.

“Will you kindly keep quiet until your information is desired?” said Mr. Porter, quietly. “Your brother wished you to have this situation for two reasons, I take it: The first for the income and prospective advancement; the second because it brought you in close touch with Miss Carruth and might prove a wedge for his social aspirations, which I hear are ambitious.”

“You objected to the deceit practiced and rebelled. Was that the cause of his anger and gross rudeness as I entered?”

“He made me keep strict account of the sales and profits and give him a memorandum each week,” whispered Katherine.

“He said—he said, he’d make up his mind that he would get to know and would marry Miss Carruth if the business got to be—to be—a big one——”

“My Gawd a-mighty!” cried Mammy, flying out of the chair upon the edge of which she had been sitting, her old face the picture of consternation and amazement. It was not surprising that Sniffins sprung from his simultaneously and made toward the door, for Mammy certainly was wrath and retribution incarnate.

“But—but—but—Massa Po’tah, is yo’ hyar wha’ dat man a-sayin’? Is yo’? He—he marry ma Miss Jinny’s daughter? Why, he ain’, he ain’ fitten fer ter bresh her shoes! Lemme jes’ lay ma hans on him an’ frazzle him out.”

“Mammy, do you wish to remain here and hear the rest of this ridiculous story, or must I have Sniffins and his sister taken up to my office? It is too public here for loud talking, and if you wish to save your little girl deep mortification, and her mother the keenest distress, you will control yourself. This is the greatest folly I could have believed any sane being capable of, but if it gets noised abroad it will soon grow into a scandal, as you must realize. Remember this, every one present, Miss Carruth must never learn one word about it if we can keep it from her. Now, go on, Miss Sniffins, and tell all the rest of this wretched folly and, yes, downright rascality, for your brother has placed himself in a very unenviable position.”

“Prove anything! Man, are you altogether a fool? Intimidating your sister into masquerading under an assumed name, to say nothing of handing over a private memoranda of another person’s business affairs, and, by the way, Miss Sniffins, I’ll take charge of that last memorandum, if you please,” said Mr. Porter, extending his hand toward Katherine.

With a grip like iron Mr. Porter forced him back upon his chair. Katherine handed him a slip of paper from her purse.

“Thank you. Now, Sniffins, I’ve just a few concluding words to say to you, but you will do well to heed them: In the first place, you have made an ass of yourself pure and simple. In the second, you are pretty close to being something far worse. You have done some queer things lately, and tried some very questionable tricks down there on State Street, as you know even better than I do, although, as I hinted to you some time ago, I know enough, and a heap more than you suspect. I don’t want to make trouble for you, or any other man just beginning his career, but I won’t stand for rascality. Now here is your chance and you have no choice but to take it: You gave your sister no choice, remember, and now it’s your turn to eat a little of your own loaf. Ask to be transferred to some other office—the further away the better.”

“It is you, not I, who have put up the game, and since you’ve begun it you may as well make up your mind to play it out. You can easily get transferred, and that is just what you’ve got to do. This place has grown too warm for you in a good many ways. Your mother is fairly well-to-do, and your sister has this situation.”

“Will you leave that to me?” asked Mr. Porter, real compassion in his voice and face for this unhappy little victim of an unscrupulous will.

“I want to stay, oh, I do want to, for Miss Carruth is always so lovely to me.”

“You’s gwine fer ter stay, too,” announced Mammy, autocratically, hastily going to Katherine’s side to soothe and pat as she would have consoled a distressed child.

“Oh, Mammy, Mammy, she won’t let me stay,” sobbed the contrite little soul.

“Keep your situation, Miss Sniffins, and also keep quiet. I shall tell Miss Constance that you gave the assumed name because you feared she might feel some prejudice against engaging you if she learned you were Mr. Sniffins’ sister; I am sure that is a pretty valid reason, for she has every reason to wish to avoid him; he has never figured pleasantly in her affairs. And now I think we have had enough of all this. But remember this, Sniffins: I mean exactly what I have said, and South Riveredge is no place for your future business operations. You have come pretty near making a serious mess of things for yourself and everyone connected with you, and a halt has been called. Move on, and take a word of advice from a business man of double your years—move straight hereafter. Now go.”

Sniffins left the office by the side door, which Mammy unlocked and held open with this parting shot:

“Ain’ I done told yo’ long time ergo dat some day niggers gwine fer ter hol’ open de do’ fo’ yo’ stid of yo’ fo’ dem?”

Mammy had never forgotten or forgiven the experience of her first visit to Elijah Sniffins’ office, and she was settling an old score. Then, turning to Katherine, she asked:

“Wha yo’ gwine spen’ de nex’ few days, honey? I would’n aim fer ter go home ef I was yo’.”

“I shall stay with a friend here in South Riveredge. I believe Lige would half kill me if I went home, he’s so awful mad.”

“Yes, it is wiser, Miss Sniffins. Don’t worry, all will come out right in the end; he has just lost his head—that’s all. Now mind what I say, both of you: Not one word of all this anywhere else. I wouldn’t have all this folly come to that little girl’s ears for all I’m worth. It’s almost incredible that anyone could act like such a fool. Paugh! it makes me ill. I feel as though some loathsome beast had drawn near that little girl of ours,” and with a quick “good-day” Mr. Porter turned and strode from the office, out through the Arch and into the main corridor, where the janitor and Terry stood quietly talking together. They glanced up as he drew near.

“Oh, Donnely,” he said to the janitor, “just take a look at that faucet in Arch Number One, will you? It’s leaking a little; and Terry, if you’ll come up to my office with me you can get those papers now as well as any time.” A word, a smile to those in the other Arches, and not a thought was given by anyone to what might have been a very unpleasant episode in Constance Carruth’s career.

CHAPTER XVII—Cupid in Spectacles.

If Constance had any suspicion that a most unusual scene had taken place in Arch Number One, she gave no sign of it.

Within a few days after that occurrence Mr. Porter ’phoned down to her counter one morning, and asked her if she could come up to his office before she returned to her home, giving as a reason his wish to talk over some plans he had in mind for the Arch. She went up immediately, and as simply as possible he told her of Katherine Sniffins’ unfortunate deception, her reason for taking the position under an assumed name, and her distress and remorse for having practiced such a deceit. He did his best to spare Katherine and to convince Constance that her only reason for such deceit had been her eagerness to secure the position, and her fear that she could not do so if Constance knew her to be Elijah Sniffins’ sister.

At first Constance was strongly inclined to resent it all, and to sever relations with the victim of Elijah Sniffin’s scheming, but gradually, as Mr. Porter talked, her sense of justice prevailed, and her resentment changed to pity, and with that the day was won.

Perhaps Mr. Porter’s casually dropped remark regarding Mr. Elijah Sniffins’ sudden departure from South Riveredge to take charge of one of the company’s offices in the far West, and the added information that he would not return to his former home, was the final straw which turned the balance in Katherine’s favor. Constance was a generous-hearted girl, to whom petty resentment was impossible. And so that chapter in the lives of the girls, so utterly unlike in character, was closed, and Constance never knew what an exceedingly unpleasant one it might have been for her but for Mammy’s ceaseless vigilance and Mr. Porter’s wisdom. For a few days, it is true, she was somewhat disturbed, and it needed all her self-control and dignity to help her through the half-hour’s talk with Katherine, but once that ordeal was over she dismissed it all forever, and was the same sweet, gracious little employer whom Katherine had always known. If Katherine had admired her before, she openly adored her now, and confided to Mary Willing, whom she met not long after, that she “didn’t know there could be girls like Constance Carruth,” and forthwith eulogized her until, had Constance heard it, she might have been forgiven if she had begun to feel around her own shoulder blades for sprouting wings.

Mary let her talk on, secretly rejoicing in every word spoken in praise of her idol, then with a most superior “why—anybody—could—have—told—you—that” air, she said:

“It’s all very well, I dare say, for people to work like everything to reform girls who have actually done wrong and are in disgrace, but from my standpoint, if a few more people would do the things Mrs. Carruth and Miss Constance are doing as a matter of course every day of their lives, there wouldn’t be so many girls in need of reforming, because they would be helped to have a little common sense and an idea of the fitness of things before they went too far. Everybody knows what a silly little fool I used to be whenever a man came near me, and I’d be one yet if it hadn’t been for those blessed people; but I tell you they made me sit up and take notice, and they did it so beautifully, and with so much love and sweet fellowship thrown in, that I’d die to-morrow if it could save just one hair of their dear heads. You may think I’m just talking for effect, but I’m not. I mean every single word I say, and if you ever get to know them as Fanny and I do, you will feel exactly the same way, you see if you don’t.”

“I do already, though I can’t talk as you do,” answered Katherine, simply.

“They have helped me that way, too,” added Mary. “My goodness, how I used to talk and what awful words I used before I knew them! But they teach you without letting you ever guess they are teaching, and you learn because you can’t help it. Good-bye. Come down and see me some time.”

“Why not? The little sitting-room up over the candy kitchen is just like our own. Miss Constance told me to invite any of my girl friends to visit me whenever I wished to, and we have lovely times up there evenings when the work is done. Sometimes Mrs. Carruth or Miss Constance come out to sit with us a little while. They always say they have come out to welcome their guests, because Fanny’s guests and mine are theirs, too. Isn’t that a sweet way of putting it? We know, though, that they do it because they want our friends to feel at home, and there hasn’t been a single evening when they haven’t sent Mammy up with some cake, or lemonade, or something nice, and I can always take a pound of candy if I want to. Oh, there’s no place in all the world like the ‘Bee-hive,’ I tell you!” And, with a happy smile, Mary went upon her way.

Not long after this something else came up that filled the Carruth household with subject for thought.

Before leaving college, Eleanor had been offered a position in a girls’ school. The school was one widely known, and prepared a great many pupils for Eleanor’s alma mater. She had been highly recommended by its faculty, and had fully decided to accept the position. All that remained to complete the arrangements was her final acceptance above her own signature and that of the school’s principal. This she was on the point of settling when she returned to Riveredge, then a trifle changed her decision. Homer Forbes came home with her, and on the way she told him of her plans.

He listened with great interest, although without comment, meanwhile gazing abstractedly out of the Pullman car window until Eleanor began to wonder if he heard one word she said, and, if the truth must be confessed, was not a little piqued at his seeming unconcern.

As usual, when thinking deeply, he munched away upon something. This time it happened to be a long spiral of paper he had absently torn from a magazine and twisted into a lamplighter, and Eleanor found herself subconsciously wondering how much of it would disappear before he recovered his wits and spoke.

About four inches of it had vanished, and, had Mammy been present, her theory of the goat would surely have been substantiated, when he gave his paper fodder a toss, and, turning toward her, said:

“Don’t sign that contract until you get home and have thought it over a week. Then if you do sign it, do so for six months—one term—only.”

“But,” interrupted Eleanor, “that seems to me a most improvident step, for right in the dead of the winter it would leave me without occupation or the prospect of any.”

“No, it wouldn’t, either. Do you think I would suggest such a step if I didn’t have something up my sleeve for you a mighty sight better—er, ahem! I mean if I hadn’t been on the lookout for something desirable—or, or, at least, something I feel you would consider.”

“Eh? Ah, well, er—a little enterprise, a scheme, a—er—What station is this we’re drawing into?” and this discussion was sidetracked instantly, leaving Eleanor to wonder if Forbes had lost his senses.

She had been home a little more than a week when he asked her to take a walk with him, and had led her a wild scramble to the top of the mountain to the plateau heretofore mentioned, where he unfolded a plan which caused Eleanor to collapse upon a nearby rock and sit looking at him in a bewildered manner. Again and again during the ensuing weeks had they toiled up the mountain, and each time had returned grimy, gratified and garrulous, heads nodding, hands gesticulating and oblivious of any other human being on top of the round world.

Mrs. Carruth watched developments with resignation; Constance with open amusement; Mammy with a division between tolerance and contempt—the saving grace in the cause being that Forbes could remotely claim kinship with the Blairsdales. But it was upon Jean that the effect was the funniest. Jean had spent all her life with people older than herself. There had been no little children in her home, and her interests had naturally centered upon her older sisters and around their affairs. She had a wise little head upon her fourteen-year-old shoulders, and older people would have been somewhat surprised could they have known the “long, long thoughts” which passed through it. More than once had she seen Forbes and Eleanor start off and toil up the mountain, and more than once had she been an unobserved follower. She never followed close enough to overhear their conversation; that would have been contrary to her sense of honor. Still, she was determined to know where they went, and, if her eyes could inform her, why they went, and her deductions came nearer the mark than the two would have believed possible.

And so had passed the summer days, and now September was at hand, and in a very short time Eleanor would start for Forest Lodge—the school in which she had accepted a position for six months—not longer. Forbes’ influence had prevailed.

“I know what it is,” cried Jean, who happened to be near it and turned to receive the message: “It’s Mr. Forbes, and he wants Eleanor to play Pilgrim’s Progress with him again, I’ll bet a cookie.” The funny one-sided conversation began only to be interrupted by Jean, who exclaimed:

“What makes you think you’re talking to Eleanor? Are our voices so alike as all that? Hold the wire while I call her, and don’t waste all those nice speeches on me,” and with a chuckle Jean turned to call Eleanor.

That afternoon Forbes called for Eleanor, and just as they were about to start upon their pilgrimage Jean came tearing out upon the piazza with two gorgeously colored laundry bags, rose-flowered and highly decorative, which she plumped down upon the piazza.

“Well, I don’t see any sense in playing a game unless you have the ‘impurtenances,’ as Mammy calls them: it must seem sort of half played. So I’ve filled these bags full of newspapers, and if you’ll each sling one over your shoulders you’ll be sure enough ‘pilgrims,’ and goodness knows you climb up that mountain often enough to give ‘Pilgrim’s Progress’ to the life!”

Panting and hot, in the course of time they reached the summit of the mountain and the plateau, every square foot of which should have been known to them by this time. Seating themselves upon the log, which had done duty many times before, Forbes at once began to unroll a great blueprint which he held at arm’s length, and said:

“Now, I can show you the tangible evidence of my dreams. You see the plan is this:”

But, alack! the best-drawn plans, etc., and this plan was printed upon the stiffest of architect’s paper, and had been rolled tightly for several days: Forbes’ fingers were a trifle shaky for some reason; one edge of the outspread roll slipped from them and quick as a flash coiled up upon itself, sweeping his glasses from his nose and hurling them ten feet away, where they crashed upon a rock and shivered to atoms.

Now, if anyone reading this is solely and entirely dependent upon a pair of glasses to see anything ten inches beyond her own nose, she will understand how Forbes felt at that particular moment—maybe.

They bounded to their feet and inanely rushed for the wrecked glasses, knowing perfectly well that only bits of scattered crystal lay upon that merciless rock. Eleanor dropped upon her knees and began frantically to gather up the fragments, Forbes towering above her and blinking like an owl which has suddenly been routed out of a hollow tree into the glaring sunshine. A fragment, about two-thirds, of the lense of the right eye still held to the nose-clip. Eleanor pounced upon this, crying:

“Ah, here is a little piece, a very little piece! Do you think you can see with that? See just a little, little bit? Enough to look over the plans? I’ll read the specifications to you. I’ll do anything, anything to help you, I feel so terribly sorry. Let me be your eyes for just a little while, for I know how disappointed you must be,” and there was almost a sob in her voice as she rose to her feet and held the hopeless bit of eyeglass toward him.

He took it, deliberately opened the patent clip and as deliberately snapped it upon his nose, Eleanor watching him as though worlds trembled in the balance.

If half a loaf is better than no bread, I dare say two-thirds of an eyeglass are better than no eyeglass at all; and who in such a vital moment would have dared hint that Forbes looked slightly batty as he cocked one eye at the lady before him? Certainly not the lady, who was the very picture of Dolores at that instant. Then Forbes came to the front splendidly. Indeed, he came with a rush and a promptitude which no one could have foreseen; he made one step forward, and the next instant held the lady in his arms, as his words poured deliciously into the ear so near his lips:

“My eyes! My eyes! You shall be my eyes, my ears, my soul!—yes, my very body and boots. No! no! I don’t mean that! Oh, hang it all, what made me say that foolish thing? I mean you are my eyes and my very soul! Without your inspiration my very mind would be a blank. With you the dreams of my life will be crystallized into beautiful realities. Never, never shall I let you leave me! Never depart from your home until this one we have pictured and planned stands ready to receive you within its walls, to be its cherished, adored light; its inner shrine, at which I shall be the chief worshipper, my goddess of sweetness, light and intellect! My inspiration to ideals beyond man’s conception.”

Off yonder, upon a moss-covered stone, sat a little figure, hugging his knees and swaying backward and forward in an abandonment of hilarious mirth. At his feet lay a bow, beside him an empty quiver. On his wee nose the wreck of a pair of thick-lensed eyeglasses.

CHAPTER XIV—In the Springtide.

CHAPTER XV—Mammy Makes a Discovery.

CHAPTER XVI—Mammy a Sherlock Holmes.

CHAPTER XVII—Cupid in Spectacles.