Janet of the Dunes

The artists, never tiring of the changing charms of this new-found beauty-spot, gave no heed to the passing season. Only cold, and acute bodily

bated breath and dreamed visions of

ad governed her kind! Susan had been obliged to gather such bits of driftwood as had floated to her chair, during the history-making season,-and draw such pleasure from it as she could. The strain had worn upon the paralyzed body. The active mi

. Sometimes he omitted, even at the top, his hilarious outburst to the "l

was troubled and fretted by many things, but she went her way. The money she had earned by posing she dealt out in

girl had not been able to recover. Once or twice she had stolen to the hut, when she was sure the master was away; always the key was in its hiding place. Softly she had gone in and stood in the sacred room. The same picture stood ever upon the easel, the same beautiful unfinished picture!

t thought, was the only reason. Mrs. Jo G. in particular was changed, but it had been a hard summer for Mrs. Jo

more like yer ma, an' it ain't t' yer credit!" That was the first inroad

"What do you me

t' them as was good enough fur you before, you can stop away from us a

that night and hid it in her blouse with the long-silent whistle! More and more she remained at the lighthouse. Seldom, even, did she sail over to the dunes and never unless she felt s

aught the smell of frying crullers. Old Pa Tapkins was realizing his harvest from the boarders by acting upon Janet's suggestion to Mark. From early sunrise until the going down of the sun, Pa, when not necessarily preparing food for three regular meals, was mixing, shaping, frying, and selling his now

chen, not only his father, b

cried Mark, "come off

ller, hot enough to make an ordinary man groan with

d calmly helped himself to a cake that was still sizzlin

t ain't puttin' the case jest as it is. Looke

een to Pa Tapkins a mild series of shocks, and he parried each statement and circumstance in order that he might haply recognize it if he ran across it again, or, more properly speaking, if it stru

heir doin's, Ma

n't, Pa. Sold many

atch, Markie, an' I've been putterin'

s on fur the noon meal, P

all night an' no sleep nex' day!

ark seized his third almost boil

seen Jane

ain't a-goin' t' this trip. Ma

ry while she's chained by the stroke ain't

in' at

the toughest blasts. I don't see how Davy we

"If William Henry Jones hadn't gone down in that squall thirty years ago, an' if Davy hadn't thought it was his duty t' carry out his mate's plans, I'm thinkin' Susa

ded appre

obs ain't fur you! that's what I said t' myself. Salt air was in my nostrils, the sound of the sea in my ears, a

ts rising as he looked upon this man

a brace o' them ears o' corn. Over half a yard long an' as near black as purple ever is. Inside they're white an' milky enough. Have some black

ate it indiscriminately, and this ex

mouth on the back of his hand, "Mark, I'm goin' t' ask ye t' jine me in a rather shady

ernel of corn and stare

' Janet. Modils ain't moral or decint. I learned that in th' city from a paint

face len

inters! An' I want t' see just how they've took her, an' what they calkerlate t' do with the picter! Andrew Farley has been modilin' f

ter of his misery. Like the bits of red cloth which marked the stakes in the bay, Susan Jane's emphasis of such gossip fluttered wildly in this hour.

y that!" he finally managed to get o

ce the gal ain't got no mother, I've got t' do double duty. Knowin' how up in city ways ye are, Mark, I thought ma

This declaration

Billy sprang

Pa, "don't make no statement ye can't

Janet. If she has been a modil-an' 'twere

Billy's face

he asked in tremblin

on,

hardly noticed them; the burning

and Billy, with the swing of the

Quinton was almost desert

presently; "city folks is powerful cl

dy het!" p

as almost at their feet. Billy's face was grim and threatening, but Mark's showed signs of doubt and wavering. His recollecti

tirring. He, himself, was sitting inside, his back to his comin

was only when Mark and Billy stood at the door that Thornly turned. The look of expectancy died i

ny sitters, than

et," Billy replied

ed pleasantly, "you see nearly al

spellbound before t

outside," v

ference," said Thornl

This statement appeared to

meet you,"

inter-man?"

asionally." Thornly laughe

breathlessly, feeling he must help Billy

been guil

ver have

restraint of city ways or roundab

nged color

d, "the glare is r

d inside. Then Mark's ey

e two men stood spellbound before the e

ttle thing! she's jest drifted without a hand

ight t' watch, Cap'n." Mark's voic

skiff you'd seen in danger." Then he turned upon Thornly. "What right hev ye got t' steal

ess?" he asked helplessly,

he came int' port, watched her an' loved her, an' sot hopes on her, don't

hed Thornly, "are

up with a dignity T

when we're talkin' of my little gal!" he said quietly

s twitching face. The calamity that had overtaken Janet was like death, an

me to me, the understanding. I have always thought the artist in me had a right to seize and make my own all that my

u've taken her happiness-and you've taken her frum us!" Thornly's color rose, but a look at the spea

her wonderful beauty add to my reputation, I plead my blind selfishness; but above all I wanted to give to the world a pleasure that you can never realize, I think, and I beli

enough t' p'int the path out t' her? An' do ye think I'm goin' t' let ye take my Janet's dear face int' that hell-place of a city; an' have folks star

orth hundreds of dollars to me and untold pleasure to many bes

e rose shrilly. "Slash it top an' bot

knife. He trembled as he opened it an

e savage devastate the beauty of these Hills. Wait! I swear to leave it as it is

Thornly's voice. Mark wa

s hers, an' God Almighty's. Keep the picter till such time as my Janet can judge an' say. The time

he tells ye," Billy paused to say, "she'll be wis

silence, until they passed from si

among us all!" He drew a heavy cloth over the radiant face, and with revere

for the Station in the teeth of a rising

and nervous as the storm rose.

ail crossin' the bay?" she s

e faltered; "and

t' get back by sundown? 'T would be a p

l day, likely as not!

tormentin' women who is always naggin' a man about wha

into the Light

breakers over the dunes! I ain't seen the ocean fur thirty odd years, an' I ain't goin' t' now!" Her voice rose hysterically, like a frightened child's. "I jest won't see the ocean!" Janet pulled the

Cap'n Daddy, what mischief have you been up to?" The quivering sm

htning turned the black bay to a molten sea. Janet could

an

Susan

if you got struck by lightnin' I couldn't do a blessed

ve oil, when I'm in this state. Oh! Janet,"-a splinteri

e little boat struggling on the bay, the strong hand upon the

drown the storm? I'm powerful shaken. I can't run if the house is stru

Jane; and the storm's p

ash showed around the green curtain's edge

awful crash s

e! If I could only put my hands over my ears!" But the poor,

your head upon my shoulder. There! Now when I see

ll wrong in his bringin' of you up. He's sort o' left the softness like a baby in you." The hidden eyes did

anted the woman. "In between,

hapter,

' nights, bad nights, he says it whe

he nagging woman rested, breathing deep. The fierce storm was rolling away; darkness was givin

he first earth were passed away and there was no more sea.'" Janet's

"this way. He says the old happy time, when William He

Susan

ed away!" The woman was sobbing as a frightened child sobs when

ys a-goin' out when it was the wildest an' trickiest! He use t' say, he'd like t' go to glory by water, an' he did,

rt you loved. That part is safe where there is no more sea!"

st, cheerfulest body; an' never a quick word fur me. Janet, don't you ever tell, but I'm afraid t' see

my William Henry, I should have watched for his face shining in the beautiful curly waves, and had

dead face, Janet!" A ho

hall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow

ns, nor any tears, an' when there ain't any more black nights to think about them in? I'll feel terrible lost just at first. It will be about as hard fur me t' get use t' doin' without them, as it will fur William Henry t' do without the sea. I guess we'll all have considerable t' do t' learn t' g

this duty in order to spare David, the nights he must go up

indow. "And I will undress you, just as easy as easy can be, and put you so, upon the co

o see the gleam of Davy's Light when it is dark. I like t' think how it helps folks find their way to the

red woman and placing them where David's bungling

" She stood in the fair ful

e an' smilin' as he always did, why, like as not, I'd put my arms out-" then she paused and the voice broke; "no, I could not put my arms out-but I could smile like I've most forgotten how t' do, an' I could go with William Henry, anywhere, same as any other lovin' w

, Su

t when he started up. We'd had some difference 'bout money; least, Davy had, I never have any different idee about it

f bearing life's burdens by the people of the dunes was but an acquired talent with her. The first and natural impulse of the girl's nature was to cry out against ca

when something had stirred her childish depths

an' roarin' themselves, an' ye jest might as well pull in yer sail an' lie low. When they is past, an' the calm sets in, 'tis plain shallowness t' use yerself up then. Folks in cities don't learn this lesson; they ain't got

she stretched her strong young body, and

er: "Good night, my Cap'n Daddy! You've reached the dunes safely, but yo

he suddenly cried; "stars in

is Light, he sat to read or think. As Janet reached the place the darkness was so dense she could see nothing, but with outstretched hands she was feeling her way to the door leading to the steps into the Light, when she touched David's gray head, as it lay upon his arms folded upon the table! He was breathing deeply and audibly, and the girl's touch did not ar

the girl; "it was only a little while, and it o

anet recognized it as one that Mr. Devant had given to David recently, a little book of poems of the sea, poems with a ring and rhythm in them that bo

white-faced clock which hung against the wall. Eight, eight thirty, eight forty-five! Then David sat up and stared with

t fur an instint I thou

Davy," Janet no

od; "course, ye don't s'pose

er,

was that worn, 'long with Susan Jane's bein' more ailin' than usual, an' the thickness of the air with the shower, that arter I saw everythin' was shipshape, I guess I f

vid's rough hands. "I'll go up an' take a look!" said the man;

rl called after him, "that Susa

nd his face shone in the dull light. Janet

He gives

hts along

l words floated back to her

Light doin' its proper duty! Janet, while I slept, I had the durndest dream, I can't get

away,

usan Jane sendin' that good night up, sort o' fitted in

ntly to have assumed shape and form to

y, but I always loved Susan Jane-fur myself. When William Henry won her, I wasn't ever goin' t' let on, but when he got drownded an' Susan had t' hustle t' keep life in her body, I jest out an' begged t' take care of her-fur William Henry! I told that lie, Janet, because I darsn't tell her I wanted her fur myself. I didn't never care whether she loved me or not, after I knowed she loved William Henry, anyway; but when he went, I wanted t' take care of her an' keep her from the hardest knocks, an' I wanted it fur jest myself! After a while I talked her int' it. She warn't never strong, an' work an' grievin' made her an easy mark fur sufferin' an' so she let me take care of her! But always it has laid he

m, or a person, or an idee comes along, as means a comfort or a strengthener, I take it that it is a sort o' duty t' clutch it, an' make it real. When ye ain't got noth

other look at the lamp, I'm goin' t' run down an' say good night t' Susan Jane. I know how she'

ll her. How long she sat by the dim lamplight she took no thought to find out. The words of poem after poem passed under her eyes unheedingly. Once she went into the Light, saw tha

is it?" sh

has

ho

enry! He's

only asleep." David shook his head a

er face in over thirty year. That's the way she use t' look when she heard me comin'

't ain't fit fur ye t' go fur any one; an' I've got t' mind the Light. Stay 'long of her, Janet. I'm glad she ain't got t' suff

Janet looked upon the woman under the gaudy patchwork quilt. Apparently she had not

when the wave went out, it took you both to glory! But, oh! my poor, dear, lonely Davy!" Then the bright head bowed upon the coverlid. "Susy, oh, Susy! I a