The Best Short Stories of 1921 and the Yearbook of the American Short Story

ight toward sleep. Thick hot room, torn by the burr of two lights, choked by the

gs for silk a

s for the mou

is it not a c

t cover sweet

to be laid upo

ht misery in

small man and my dre

s enlarged the

soft eyes, and my fles

rm heart, and my breasts

d forgetful of h

m far when he i

oop, th

a tearful pray

o way between my

ay between my

between my lov

s are shut. I sle

d of m

against

her, Lord. This is my wife before me, her love that has not lived is dead.-Time is a barren field

t has moved up three hours

s of the man sleeps Flora. His arm aches. He dare

ar his eyes. Her face and her hands, her feet and her knees are soiled. The rest

away beneath

irt. Esther-his love-she is in a case of fire. Within her breasts as within hard jewels move the liquids of

brace

her-" He can

r throat. Can he n

er eyes swerve up. They cat

agony of glory-anothe

nbroken case of a vas

own in bed. S

oked their

he steep street to work. A child bet

the sullen strife of their relentless life. There is n

CH E

NE FULLERT

ribner's

tanding there was. Follet dined with magnates; and, believe me, the magnates of Naapu were a multicolored lot. A man might have been made by copra or by pearls-or by blackbirding. We were a plutocracy; which means that so long as a man had the house and the drinks, you asked no questions. The same rule holds-allowing for their dizzier sense of figures-in New York and Chicago. On the whole, I

g to do. Stires looked like a cowboy and was, in truth, a melancholy New Englander with a corner-grocery outlook on life, and a nasal utterance that made you think of a barrel of apples and a corn-cob pipe. He was a ship-chandler in a small-a very small-way. Follet lived at the ramshackle hotel, owned by the ancient Dubois and managed, from roof to kitchen-midden, by Ching Po. Fren

ut most of them sifted down to a little residual malice. I confined my questionings to the respectable

nt. She had eventually preferred independence, and had forsaken him; and if he still had no quarrel with her, that speaks loudly for her many virtues. Whether Dubois had sent for her originally, no one knew. His memory was clouded by opium, and you could get little out of him. Besides, by the time I arrived on Naapu, French Eva belon

and brows and eyes so black. In the ordinary pursuit of her business she wore her hair half loose, half braided, down her back; and it fell to her knees like a heavy crape veil. A bad simile, you will say; but there are no words to express the unrelieved blackness of her hair. There were no lights in it; no "reflets," to use the French phrase. It might have been "tre

her pallor, touching it with the faintest brown in the world. I must, in the interests of truth, mention one more fact. Mam'selle Eva was the sort of woman who has a direct effect on the opposite sex. Charm hardly expresses it; magnetism, rather, though that is a poor word. A man simply wanted to be near her. She intrigued you, she drew you on, she assailed your consciousness in indefinable ways-all without the sweep of an eyelash or the pout of a lip. French Eva was a good girl, and went her devious ways with reticent feet. But she was not in "society,"

was an excellent field for the unscrupulous. Tourists did not bother us, for tourists do not like eighty-ton schooners; maps did not particularly insist upon us; we were well known in places where it was profitable to know us, and not much talked about anywhere. Our copra was of the best; there were pearls to be had in certain waters if you could bribe or fight your way to them; and large groups of natives occasionally disappeared over night from one of the surrounding islands. Naapu was, you might say, the clasp of a necklace. How could we be expected to know what went on in the rest of the string-with one leaky patrol-boat to ride those seas? Sometimes there were fights down by the docks; strangers got arrested and were mysteriously pardoned out; there were always a good many people in the lands

atavia and Hong-Kong. He continued, however, to be a resident of the island, and none of his projects of removal to a better place ever went beyond mere frothy talk. He lived at Dubois's, but spent much of his time with the aforesaid magnates. He had an incorruptible manner; some grace that had been bred in him early never forsook him, and the ladies of Naa

n the desert or on the open sea. You find it in Arizona; and in the navies of all the northern countries. It added to his cowboy look. I knew nothing about Stires-remember that on Naapu we never asked a man questions about himself-but I liked him. He sat about on heaps of indescribable junk-things that go into the bowels of ships-and talked freely. And because Follet and I

ng business there. He frequented everybody, and asked questions in the meticulous German way. He wandered all over the island-islands, I should say, for once or twice I saw him banging off in a creaky motor-boat to the other jewels of the necklace. Guesses as to his real business were free and frequent. He was a pearl-smuggler; the agent of a Queensland planter; a fugitive from justice; a mad scientist; a servant of the Imperial German Government. No one presumed

the kind of interest that Schneider took in French Eva. He told me that, straight, emphasizing his statements with a rusty spanner, which he wielded in a curious, classical way, like a trident. Accord

s sh

N

eave the lady to discou

ates Ching Po. But she walks out with him

he like

d the discouraged Stires beat, with his spa

tched her deal with a drunken Solomon Islander, and

res's lazy drawl ch

an do?" I ask

d cut him out," he m

n love with he

take her

forte, and church, in any case, was the

you go in

or nothing with me, I guess. And she's got something against me. I don't know

in it?" I f

if I know what she's up to with the three o

in, why can't you stand Schneid

ll have to play the game. But if I know Schneider, there's no wedding be

loosely girdled, buying a catch of fish at a fair price from three m

to chaperon her," I cried

yes flashed at me. The s

arned a good many things they don't teach in little red schoolhouses. I have a great respect

runted. "But lies come easy to him, I guess.

w anything

over him. For a man's eyes, that is. Yo

ng in the dust

than the rest of ours. I was surprised to see Schneider, for Lockerbie had suspected the Teuton of designs on his very privately and not too authentically owned lagoon. L

p being amused, for I knew that no one would object to his being in that condition an hour later. The only point was that he should not have arrived like that. If Schneider had had anything resembling a skin, he would have felt about as comfortable as Mother Eve at a woman's club. Lockerbie's scowl was no jo

, after the first cocktail. So it came to pass that by the time I could safely leave S

, always prayed at least once. Pasquier, the successful merchant who imported finery for the ladies of Naapu, rolled out socialistic platitudes-he was always flanked, at the end of the feast, by two empty chairs. Little Morlot began the endless tale of his conquests in more civilized lands: all patchouli and hair-oil. Anythi

mentioned. On my word, as I saw Follet curving his spinal column, and Schneider lighting up his face with his perfect teeth, I thought with an immense admiration of the unpolished and loose-hung Stires amid the eternal smel

when we crossed the unpaved roads in the darkness. Follet went ahead, and I gave him a good start. When we reached the hotel, Ching Po su

rs, who were more like friends and neighbors than any one else in the place. My own affairs should not obtrude on this tale at all; and I will not go into them more than to say that I came to the en

y-yard, as I paced past her dwelling. I had got nearly b

nsi

ass of hair spread out of the crude opening in the bamboo wall, for all the world like Rapunzel's. I faced a

t is the Germa

ed. "'Schweinhund' will do, I thin

face disappeared, and the

t greeting one who had doubtless been giving aid and comfort to the enemy. I squatted on the low railing of French Eva's compound, but she herself was not forthcoming. After ten minutes I heard a co

d my furthe

heir own language. It saves time." By way of illustration, she clucked to a group

om Papua and bound for the Carolines. After the man had gone, I informed Stires of the episode. For a

, eh?" was

don't seem to be

ipped him, that's al

your interest in the

to whistle creakily, and took u

neider staying r

rd he was leaving on the

up against Folle

nybody. Miss Eva'll s

I made the gestur

id like this discussing ladies. She don't cotton to me for some re

can do for

e so set on helping me, you migh

is he

rm to be done. He's got something up his sleeve-and a Chink's sleeve's big

s on your part, or do you

ped drawing. "These folks lie low and sing little songs, and just as you're dropping off there's a knife somewhere.-Have you

ith the na

come to anything-just a little more work for the police if they get drunk and run amuck. The constabulary is mostly off on the spree. They

none of the people you and I are interested in are concerned

the Kanakas do anything they shouldn't, except get drunk, and joy-ride down waterfalls, and keep up an infernal tom-toming. But it sort of gets on your nerves. And I wouldn't call Naapu straitlaced, either. Everybody seems to feel called on to liquor up, this time o' year. If it isn't one pretext it's another. Things folks have been kind of hesitating ove

h Ching Po? Where

t somehow. Dope, I suppose. Old man Duboi

near French Eva, is he? The

re apt to be indirect. She's afraid of him-afra

s pipe. Then a piratical-looking

ad left Stires, things began to happen. It was as if a tableau had suddenly decided to become a "movie." All those fi

et my own. There were no eggs, and I sauntered over to French Eva's to purchase a few. The town looked queer to me as I walked its grassy streets. Only when I turned into

ing had shaken her. She would not let me in, but made me wait while she fetched the eggs. I took them away in a little basket of plaited palm-fronds, and walked through the compound as nonchalantly as I could, pretendin

anted a drink, but I did not offer him one. He sat down heavily-for all his lightness-like a man out of breath. I saw a pistol-butt sticking out of his pocket and narrowed my eyes upon him. Foll

d, "the exodu

eally anyth

he asked

the ex

ut a folk-lorist. Chiefly an excuse, I fancy, for drinking too much. Sc

nst him-except that he'

reached his point. "He's been tr

nch

ppressive, dominated as it was b

ecided. "Then why do you let Ching P

p from his chair, but he did not actually rise. It was j

ago-when I fetched my egg

nt or two. Then he relaxed, and his eyes grew dull. Follet

," he said. They all seemed surer of th

n't hit it off very

dmitted it easily, as

but I could not escape the tension in the Naapu air. Those gods of

it off the words and r

any on

him-even the old inhabitant doesn't know. There's Dubois; bu

ter go over and make sure tha

ld annoy her, I'd have been over there myself a short time ago. If he really annoyed F

o the cause of the quarrel?" I persisted. Since I

y that in the happy time now past he had perhaps asked her to marry him.

she let him in

I can almost imagine being

p, one way or the other?"

to go to Auckland next year." His voice trailed off fatuously in a cloud of smoke, and I knew

Seeing Follet she became nervous-he did affect women, as I have said. What with her squint and her smile, she made a spectacle of herself before she panted out her staccato statement. Doctor Ma

a darkened room. But Ching Po never stirred. Madame Maür thought he never would stir. She couldn't order him off the public thoroughfare, and there was no traffic for him to block. He was irreproachable and intolerable. After half an hour of it, she had run out across her back garden to ask my help. He must go away or she, too, would have hysterics. And Madame Maür covered the squint with a black-edged handkerchief. If he would walk about, or whistle, or mop his yellow face, she wouldn't mind. But she was sur

et, to apologize for leaving him. I had neither seen nor heard him move, but he w

," I suggested; for there was no

. "Oh, damn his yellow soul, I'll marry her!

e you. Not if any of the things she has been sobbing out are true. She loves the other man-down by the doc

th, exhaling. Yet it sounded like a hi

e Ching Po off?" I asked irritably. It had suddenly struck me t

plied Follet with a

pistol. "Not with that." I jerked my chin ev

ocent hand and began to pull at my bougainvillea vine as if it were in

back garden and the house itself-and paused to admire the view. Ye

mphant whimper. Inarticulate noises somewhere near

I saw Follet gaining on him, and then saw no more of them; for my feet acting on some inspiration of their own which never had time to reach my brain, took a short cut to the water front. I raced past French Eva's empty house, pounding my way through the gentle heat of May, to Stires's establishment. I hoped to cut them off. But Ching Po must have had a like inspiration, for when I was almost within sight o

. But I kept a keen eye out for Follet. I thought Stires could look out for himself, so long as it was just Ching Po. It was the triangular mix-up I was afrai

oments he debouched from yet a third approach. Ching

the peaceful water front had absorbed the Chinaman; and if Stires w

k my pistol,

I said, and jammed i

you got to do wit

were not running, we were hitting up a quick pace. Follet was all colors o

, too?" h

on't stand for murder in ope

Stires's trade. As we drew up alongside, I looked through the window. Stires and Ching Po were within, and from the sibilant noise that stirred t

ay they all dragged me in and then cursed me for being there! The Chinaman stood with his hands folded in his wicked sleeves, his eyes on the gr

you or Miss Eva, I should be only

tires truculently. He adv

terics up at Madame Maür's. I fancy that's why we're here. Your yellow friend there seems to have been responsible for the hysterics. This

rsed with him in the pidgin variety. But he certainly looked at peace with the

g somewheres else," snapp

Po. He stepped delica

out to trip him. But the Chinaman

with ineffable sadnes

tires, faced each other for an instant. Then Follet swung round and dashed afte

grunted. "The Chink won't do anything but tell him a few things. And like as not,

of her compound. And-Miss Eva was inside, having hysterics. Ching Po had been with her earlier.

n to pour out Madame Maür's revelations just then upon Sti

irected anger, and I turned to go. But in the very instant of my turning from him I saw tragedy pierce through the mask of r

nything to fear from t

thing, now. He's done his damnedest. It o

pit it out

ve got a kind of a hunch

didn't-what

o the ho-tel. I'm kind of busy this morning"-he w

shing off his lie. The man wanted to be alone with his trou

reature. Truth wouldn't be truth if it came from Ching Po. Yet if two men who were obviously prepossessed in the lady's favor were so easily to be convinced by his report, some old suspicions, some forgotten facts must have rushed out of the dark to foregather with it. French Eva had been

ng Po. Perhaps Madame Maür would give me a sandwich. I wanted desperately to have done with the whole sordid business; and had there been food prepared for

and lunch there was not in any proper sense. But she fed me with odd messes and

Eva?" I

her lips. "She went

om

not ask her. She would go-with many thanks, but with great

I not? I decided not to. "Ching Po went back to the h

e, if I would not let her question me, I could not in fairness question her. So we talked on idly, neither one, I dare say, quite sure of th

t thinking of going home when Follet appeared at the gate.

he shouted befo

ed quietly, but I saw by her quick shiver th

re. The place

ttend these festivitie

h me like a dagger.

calmly. Six hours before, I had not been calm;

" he went on; and I coul

then, a

r beloved gramophone there.

" I ejaculated.

d hoping he won't f

along," he said. Then he turned to Madame Maür. "Sorry, m

uld do no wrong when she was actually confronted w

tood still and faced Follet. "What

er surprise looked ou

Do you really want to tear t

man he told the truth. Ching Po did want to marry her once. She wouldn't, of course, and he's just been waiting to spike her guns. When he found out she really wanted that impossible Yankee, he said he'd tell. She had hysterics. He waited for her outside

an, what did he tell

gether French, you see. Old Dubois knows her pedigree. Her grandmother was a mulatto, over Penang way. S

for the Naapu grafters. A darned sight too good to go native-" Then I stopped, f

as jumpy. I took him back myself to the hotel, and pushed him viciously into Ching Po's arms. The expressionless Chinese fa

to her husband; Follet would, of a certainty, be drunk; and Stires would be looking, I supposed, for French Eva. French Eva, I thought, would take some finding; but Stires w

hermen whom she had often beaten down in the way of business. They brought her in from the remote cove, with loud lamentations and much pride. She must have rocked back and forth between

the day after they found her. His face was drawn and gloomy, but it was the face of a man in his right mind. I think his worst time was that hour after Follet had followed Ching Po out of his warehouse. He never told me just how things had st

reat to-do about it in the town, and the tom-to

comfortable in her mind. On and off, hot and cold-and I took it for flightiness. The light broke in on me, all of a sudden, when that

gue; and there was a chance Follet might hold his. At all events, I would not tell Stires how seriously she h

eculiar impregnability of Stires's prejudices. When you stop to think of it, Stires and his prejudices had no business in such a place, and nothing in earth or sky or sea could have foretold them to the population of that landscape. Perhaps when she let herself go, in the strong seas, she thought that he would be at heart her widower. Don't ask me. Whatever poor little posthumous success of the sort she may have hoped for, she at least paid for it heavily

at dessert, that he would have married French Eva if she hadn't drowned herself. I believed it no more the second time than I had believed it the first. Anyhow, sh

PAST

LEN G

od House

those big houses just off Fifth Avenue-I had a suspicion from the first that the magnificence covered a secret disturbance. I was alw

ded kindly enough, she led me down the hall, and then up a flight of stairs at the back of the house to a pleasant bedroom in the third story. There was a great deal of sunshine, and the walls, which

ike to dictate a few letters," she said presentl

utherners, and though she was now famous on two continents for her beauty, I couldn't forget that she had got her early education at the little academy for young ladies in Fredericksburg. Thi

member Mrs. Vanderbridge as she looked round, when the door opened, from the wood fire into which she had been gazing. Her eyes caught me first. They were so wonderful that for a moment I couldn't see anything else; then I took in slowly the dark red of her hair, the clear pallor of her skin, and the long, flowing lines of her figure in a tea-gown of blue silk. There was a white bearskin rug under her feet, and while she stood there before the wood fire, she looked as if she had absorbed the beauty and colour of the house as a crystal vase absorbs the light. Only whe

nt which struck me as hopeless. I saw her feet tap the white fur rug, while she plucked nervously at the lace on the end of one of the gold-coloured sofa cushions. For an instant the thought flashed through my mind that she had been taking

d pen in hand, she sat up on the couch with one of her quick movements, and said

ould think of to say, for I did not u

u to come down to dinner. There will

at if I had known she expected me to make one of the family, I should never, not even at twice the salary, have taken the place. It

r a moment, almost wistfully, "but it won't b

or I knew from her tone, just as plainly as if she had told me

ol it. After my lonely life I dare say I should have loved any one who really needed me, and from the first moment that I read the appeal in Mrs. Vanderbridge's

n beautifully, I know, because I can talk to you. My last secretary was English, and I frightened her almost to death whenever I tried t

t his p

e frame. The other is my broth

ot until the next day, while I was still trying to account for the impression that I had seen the picture before, did there flash into my mind the memory of an old portrait of a Florentine nobleman in a loan collection last winter. I can't remember the name of the painter-I am not sure that it was known-but this photograph might have been taken from the painting. There was the same imaginative sadne

asked Mrs. Vanderbridge. "Doesn't he look

ly so hands

" For an instant she hesitated and then broke out almost bitterly, "Isn't that a face any wo

the first essential of happiness-and yet her unhappiness was as evident as her beauty, or the luxury that enveloped her. At that instant I felt that I hated Mr. Vanderbridge, for whatever the secret tragedy of their marriage might be, I instinctively knew that the fault was not on the

ubtfully regarding it when there was a knock at my door, and the maid with the sad face came in to bring me a pot of tea. After she had placed the tray on the tab

Her nervousness and the queer look in her face made me stare at her sharply. This was a house, I was beginning to feel,

swered after a moment's hesitation. There couldn't be a

d kind. She hasn't always been rich, and that may be the reason she never seems to grow hard and selfish, the reason she spends so much of her life thinki

thing she has she ought to be

appy as she has been of late-ever since last summer. I suppose I oughtn't to talk about it, but I've kept it to myself so long that I feel as if it was killing me. If she was my own sister,

ain that she was suffering acutely, and while I patted her shoulder, I thought what a wo

know her, that I've never even seen her husband," I said warningly, fo

stress's, were on edge, I could see. "And she needs somebody who can help her.

e suspicion that I had got into a place where people took drugs or

confide in me, and even if sh

e had risen from the floor and stood wiping her reddened eyes on the napkin. "I d

tion. The whole episode was incredible. It was the kind of thing, I kept t

He is the one who

u mustn't think that. He is one of the best men in the world, but he can'

, she paused just long enough to throw me a pleadin

e in a wave while I sat there in the soft glow of the shaded electric light. Something was wrong. Somebody was making that lovely woman unhappy, and who, in the name of reason, could this somebody be except her husband? Yet the maid had spoken of him as "one of the best men in the world," and it w

a reader of personality; and it didn't take a particularly keen observer to discern the character and intellect in Mr. Vanderbridge's face. Even now I remember it as the noblest face I have ever seen; and unless I had possessed at least a shade of penetration, I doubt if I should have detected the melancholy. For it was only when he was thinking deeply that this sadness seemed to spread like a veil over his features. At other times he was cheerful and even gay in his manner; and his

t this blackness was the colour of thought. Something troubled her to despair, yet I was as positive as I could be of anything I had ever been told that she had breathed no word of this anxiety or distress to her husband. Devoted as they were, a nameless dread, fear, or apprehension divided them. It was the thing I had felt

of abstraction, and was gazing thoughtfully over his soup-plate at the white and yellow chrysanthemums. It occurred to me, while I watched him, that he was probably absorbed in some financial problem, and I regretted that I had been so careless as to speak to him. To my surprise, however, he replied immediately in a natural tone, and I saw, or imagined that I saw, Mrs. Vanderbridge throw me a glance of gratitude and relief. I can't remember what we were talking about, but I reca

o a chair on the other side of Mr. Vanderbridge and unfold her napkin. She was quite young, younger even than Mrs. Vanderbridge, and though she was not really beautiful, she was the most graceful creature I had ever imagined. Her dress was of gray stuff, softer and more clinging than silk, and of a peculiar misty texture

me at the tapestry on the wall. I knew she didn't see me and that it wouldn't have made the slightest difference to her if she had seen me. In spite of her grace and her girlishness I did not like her, and I felt that this aversion was not on my side alone. I do not know how I received the impression that she hated Mrs. Vanderbridge-never once had she glanced in her direction-yet I was aware

there in the candlelight with her curious look of vagueness and unreality. To my astonishment not even the servants appeared to notice her, and though she had unfolded her napkin when she sat down, she wasn't served with either the roast or the salad. Once or twice, particularly when a course was served, I glanced at Mrs. Vanderbridge to see if she would

led the way back into the drawing-room. At first I thought the stranger would follow us, but when I glanced r

e," said Mrs. Vanderbridge, "but to

e seemed abs

I always wonder how much strangers notice. He hasn't been well of late, and

ard, but I've never be

s with a question. "I hope your room is comfortable, and that you don't feel timid ab

nscious of a shiver deep down in me, as if my senses r

red-came in on the pretext of inquiring if I had everything I needed. One of the innumerable servants had already turned down my

ou," she began. "She is afraid you will be

answered. "I've never

a year ago, and since then Mrs. Vanderbridge has had another maid-a French one-to sit up for her at night and undress her. She is always so fearful of ov

f my book. Then I added almost before I realized what I was say

ssible, and for a minute I thought sh

r-the one in the gray dress. She wore no je

a curious flicker in her face

ame in. Has Mr. Vanderbridge a s

his office. When he wants one at th

dn't eat any dinner, and nobody spok

o her. Thank God, it h

dful to be treated like that, and before

n't know her, she is so full of life-the very picture of happiness. Then one evening she-the Other One, I mean-co

er out-the Other One?

. She tries all she can every

rbridge? Can't

ith an ominous gestu

se by him. She never took her eyes off him exce

t not in that way. He doesn't

in a suppressed voice, "It seems strange t

know all

rop sometimes-she gets ill and feverish very easily-but s

nts told you about

They feel that something is wrong; that is why they never stay longer than a w

lled under my chair. "If the time ever comes when yo

anderbridge and

k answe

n, that she mea

body knows-but sh

went out, after wishing me a formal good night. The odd part about our secret conferences was that a

bliged to repeat this over and over-that was too preposterous for me to believe even while I was surrounded and overwhelmed by its reality. I didn't dare face what I thought, I didn't dare face even wh

ed me on the staircase as she was going out to dinner and the opera. She was radiant in blue velvet, with

any letters, but tomorrow we shall begin early." Then, as if from an afterthought, she looked b

in printed romances after meeting Mrs. Vanderbridge and remembering the mystery that surrounded her. I wondered if "the Other One," a

ne out ofte

so well, Mrs. Vanderbridge doesn't like to go withou

was standing in the patch of firelight on the hearth rug. I had not seen her come in, and Hopkins evidently was still unaware of her presence, for while I was watching, I saw the maid turn towards her with a fresh log for the fire. At the moment it occurred to me that Hopkins must be either b

body believes in ghosts any longer. She is something that I know doesn't exist, yet even, though she can't possibly be, I can swear that I have seen her. My nerves were so shake

have seen something," she said. "Did an

ou walked right through her when you put the log on

f the way." She was plainly frig

reach the fire you had to walk straight through her

way. She never give

could stand. "In Heaven's name,"

een years ago, just a year after they were married, and people say a scandal was hushed up about her, which

ll has this

sylum. You see, she was very young, scarcely more than a girl, and he got the idea in his head that it was

etely at sea that I couldn'

though I've no head for speculation, that we carry into the next world the traits and feelings that have got the better of us in this one. It seems to me only common sense to believe that

y to stop it? What has

fter doctor, and tried everything she could think of. But, you see, she is handica

won't t

e leaves him free, she never clutches and strangles. It isn't her way." For a mom

I am a perfect str

uld corner her some day-the Other One-and tell he

y shaken nerves. "They would fancy me out of my wits! Imagine

with Mrs. Vanderbridge. It would hel

appeared competent enough, but I am sure that she didn't so much as suspect that there was anything wrong in the house except the influenza which had attacked Mrs. Vanderbridge the night of the opera. Never once during that

ake the tea because she was still so weak, and I saw that she looked flushed and feverish, and that her eyes were unnaturally large and bright. I hoped she wouldn't talk to me, because peop

er evening-did you-did you see anything unusual at dinne

That I might have? Yes

saw

the table, and I wondered why no one

thin and pale, i

scribe her; but I should know her again anywhere. She wore her hair parted a

onsciously we had moved closer together

at she really comes-that I am not out of

ld swear to it. But doesn't M

mfortable silence, she added suddenly, "She is really a thought, you know. She

her back by t

thinking of other things, but of late, since his illness, she has been with him almost constantly." A sob broke from her, and she buried her face in her hands. "I suppose she is always trying to come-only she is too vague-and she hasn't any form that we can s

would she change? Would she cease to be

ndered and wondered how

really there? That she ex

eyond? She exists as much as I exist to you or you to

ow; but in order not to appear st

ake him unhappy

nd me. I believe that

ay away? When he thinks of her

for an instant-that she could appear differently if she would. I have studied her for years until I know her like a book, and though she is only an apparition, I am perfectl

remember her as l

give it up-but

ful days I think that even Mr. Vanderbridge hadn't a suspicion of the truth. The past was with him so constantly-he was so steeped in the memories of it that the present was scarcely more than a dream to him. It was, you see, a reversal of the natural order of things; the thought had become more vivid to his perceptions than any object. The phantom had been victorious so far, and he was like a man recovering from the effects of a narcotic. He was only half awake, only half alive to the events through which he lived and the people who surrounded him. Oh, I realize that I am telling my story badly!-that I am slurring over the significant interludes! My mind has dealt so long with external details that I have almost fo

ooms. "I am sending all the furniture in that room away," she said, "it was bought in a bad period, and I want to clear it out and make room for the lo

l tightly closed. Years ago, Hopkins had once told me, the first Mrs. Vanderbridge had used this room for a while, and after her death her husband had been in the habit of shutting himself

dertaken. She was subject to these nervous reactions, and I was prepared for them even when they seized her so spasmodically. I remember that she was in th

her nature that she should assume my trustworthiness. "If anything seems wort

s from some elderly lady, who wrote interminable pale epistles in the finest and most feminine of Italian hands. That a man of Mr. Vanderbridge's wealth and position should have been so careless about his correspondence amazed me until I recalled the dark hints Hopkins had dropped in some of her midnight conversations. Was it possible that he had actually lost his reason for months after the death of his first wife, during that year when he had shut himself alone with her memory? The question was st

n I touched it. Bending nearer, I saw that the crumbled mass had once been a bunch of flowers, and that a streamer of purple ribbon still held together the frail structure of wire and stems. In this drawer some one had hidden a sacred treasure, and moved by a sense of romance and adventure, I gathered the dust tenderly in tissue paper, and prepared to take it downstairs to Mrs. Vanderbridge. It was not until then that some letters tied loosely

"but I don't dare destroy them. There is

to the husband instead of to the wife, flashed through my mind. Then-I think it was some jeal

d to me that Mrs. Vanderbridge would be generous enough to give them to him-she was capable of rising above her jealousy, I knew-but I determined that she shouldn't do it until

amp on the table by her side was already lighted, leaving the rest of the room in shadow, for it was a grey day with a biting edge of snow in the air. It was all very charming in the soft light; but as soon as I entered I had a feeling of oppression that made me want to run out into the wind. If you have ever liv

to confess it, a vindictive pleasure in watching it melt into the flames and at the moment I believe I could have burned the apparition as thankfully. The more

d from Mrs. Vanderbridge-half a sigh, half a

d the pages rustle in her hands as she turned them impatiently. "They are not from him," she repeated presently, with an exultant ring in her voice. "They are written after her mar

isen from my knees an

an win him back? You have only to show

hadows of the firelight, as if she saw the Other One standing there. "I have only to s

Oh, don't you see? Can't you see? It is the only way to make him think of her diffe

wly; and the words were still on her lips when

egan, and added with playful te

e and then at the letters lying scattered loosely about her. If I had had my will I should have flung them at him with a violence which would have sta

man she loved, not at the body. She saw him, detached and spiritualized, and she saw also the Other One-for while we waited I became slowly aware of the apparition in the firelight-of the white face and the cloudy hair and the look

fronting the pale ghost of the past. There was a light about her that was almost unearthly-the light of triumph. The radiance of it blinded me for an instant. It was like a flame, clearing the atmos

eaking straight to the presence before her. "After all, you are dead and I am living, and I cannot fight you that way. I give up

would have stooped to gather the unburned pages, her lovely flowing body curved between his hands and the flames; and so transparent, so ether

d-yes, this is the only word for it-loving. It was just as if a curse had turned into a blessing, for, while she stood there, I had a curious sensation of being enfolded in a kind of spiritual glow and comfort-only words are useless to describe the feeling because it wasn't in t

n the only way that she could triumph. She had won, not by resisting, but by accepting, not by violence, but by gentleness, not by grasping, but by renouncing. Oh, lo

ain for the apparition in the firelight, and saw that it had vanished. There was nothi

SMIL

SAN G

Pictoria

these trips, and the simple lines of her dark-blue suit and the smart little hat Howie had always liked on her, somehow suggested young and happy things. Two soldiers came by; one of them said, "Hello, there, kiddo," and the other, noting the anxiety with which she waited, assured her

emed she must buy pop-corn if she stood there. She bought some. She tr

ace; and all of it was a world she was as out of as if it were passing before her in a picture. All of it except that one thing that was all she had left!

ars it was Howie who had seemed to connect her with the world. And suddenly she thought of how sorry Howie would be to see her waiting around in this dismal place after every one else had gone, trying to speak to a strange man about a thi

e all of the picture tonight, did you?"

as if to make her out. Her trembling hands clutched the bag of pop-corn

y here says you didn't give the who

astonishment. He, too, looked Laura

ortance, lady," said the man, lookin

he realized that this could happen, saw how slight was her hold on the one thing she

in the presence of what is outside their world. Oh, she knew that look! She

eals with what has to be dealt with carefully, "you just let me give you your money back,

ck!" cried Laura. "I-want

an, taking his cue from the older one. "I'll tell you ju

ned," cut in Laura. "I-I w

o deep that they di

the young man, going up to him. "What yo

od there st

one to the other, as if to see what chance there was of their doing it witho

r, too. It was all as it was in the pictures-people crowded together, and all of it something that seemed life and really wasn't. Even that-the one thi

n her side instead of their own. For if you have had much-does that make it easy to get along with nothing? Why couldn't they se

ch she had lived, when morning came she couldn't get on the train that would take her back to that house to which Howie would never come again. Once more it all seeme

that film could be seen. She had learned that this was the way to do it. She had known nothing about such t

old herself this must stop-that her brother was right in the things he said against it. It wouldn't do. He hadn't said it was crazy, but that was what he meant-or feared. She had told him she would try to stop. Now was the time to do it-now when she

e feeling that she was going to meet Howie. Once more she would see him do that thing which was so like him as to bring him back into life. Why shoul

s because it was all she would ever have. Again she sat in a big, noisy place with many jostling, laughing people-and waited to see Howie. She forgot t

ht! After that she had always come very early. So she had to sit there while other people were coming in. But sh

e one said "munitions." She put her hand to her eyes and pressed tight. Not to see. That was why she had to keep co

ing people more comfortable in their work. To see girls working in uncomfortable chairs, or standing hour after hour at tables too low or too high for them-he couldn't pass those things by as others passed them by. He had a certain inventive faculty, and his kindness was always making use of that. His father used to tell him he would break them all up in business if his mind went on working in that direction. He would tell him if he was going to be an inventor he had better think up some money-making inventions

ng along a street which was being taken for the picture. His moment was prolonged by his stopping to do the kind of thing Howie would do, and now it was as if that one moment was the only thing saved out of Howie's life. They who made the picture had apparently seen that the moment was worth keeping-they left it

saying "scrap-heap." She knew-before she knew why-that this had something to do with her. Then she found that they were talking about th

ee it-but to feel it wouldn't any longer be there to be seen-that even this glimpse of Howie would go out-go out as life goes out-scrap-heap! She sat up straight and cleared her throat. She would have to leave. She must g

dog-pawing at his muzzle. He stops in distress in front of the cigar-store. People pass and pay no attention to the dog-there on the sidewalk. And then-in the darkened theater her hands go out, for the door has opened-and sh

he warmth and kindness of his voice as he speaks to the little dog. He feels of the muzzle-finds it too tight; he lets it out a notch. Dear Howie. Of co

e tells her to keep the dog from following him. Then again he turns to go. But just before he passes from sight the child calls something to

ehind him. There will be little murmurs of approval; sometimes there is appla

s smile would stay with her. Then it would fade, as things fade in the motion pictures. Somehow she didn't real

before would happen again-that she would not see Howie, after all. That made her so tense that she was exhausted now. And then "munitions"-and "scrap-heap." Perhap

she would have to manage it her own way-that he would have to let her alone. Now here he was again-to trouble her, to talk to her about being brave and sane-when he didn't know-when h

e was something wrong with her. He looked at her a

his any more, Laura," he said gently

I was here?" she

d you had left ho

ld trace me," she said, b

l, I must say I don't think Mrs

in "The Cross of Diamonds." She had hesitated about telling her, but had finally

ould be nothing but torture to her. Torture it was, but i

ack to her own. He had wanted to do this before, but she had refused. There was nothing in her now that could r

trying to interest herself in life. She made no resistance, she had no argument against this; but

life did not have a real contact with other lives. Perhaps there were many people like that-perhaps not; she did not know.

ry one; and in the warmth and strength of his feeling for people he drew her into that ma

t she had been through him. It was like telling one

n the sunshine, days of cold mist may become more than you can bear. After a long struggle not to do so, she again went to the long-distance tel

ht no longer be, she had to put every bit of her strength into establishing this connection with the people who could tell her what she must know. Estab

Diamonds" could be seen anywhere at all. "The Cross of Diamonds" had been doubl

tain town in Indiana. But she'd better hurry! And she'd better look her last look. Wh

main body of life was thrown in between her and Howie. The train was late. It was almost the hour for pictures to begin when she got down at that lonely, far-away station. And the town, it seemed, was a mile

"Oh, won't you find me a good seat?" Laura besought him. "Like to know how I'll find you a seat w

And all those people seated there-for them i

as Laura was being seated a woman came along with two children. "We can't all sit together,"

r to welcome her child. Laura did nothing. She

me she would see Howie as he had moved through the world. For the last time she would see his face light to a smile. If she did not reac

so when the little girl beside her twisted in her seat and she knew that the child was looking up at her she tried not to know this little girl was there

he was knowing that that little girl had fallen asleep in an uncomfortable position. Her head had been resting on the side of the seat-the side next Laura-and as she fell asleep it slipped from its su

life ceasing to be life. "No!" she gasped under her breath. "No!" The people around her were saying things of a different sort. "Cut it!" "What you givin' us?" "Whoa, boy!" They laughed. They didn't care. It got a little better; she could make out Howie bending down to fix the dog's muzzle-but it was all dancing crazily-and people were laughing. And then-then the miracle! It was on Howie's smile

e head was without support and, not waking her, supported the child's head against her own arm. And aft

ed to make it right for the badly muzzled dog. Then there was something for her to do in the world. She could do the kind things Howie would be doing if he were there! It would somehow-keep him. It would-fulfill him. Yes, fulfill him. Howie had made her more alive-warmer and kinder. If she became as she had been before-Howie would have failed. She moved so that the little girl who rested against her could rest the better. And as she did this-it was as if

BOR MAS

RD MATTH

rper's M

Loud-Deep-water Peter he was called, because even so early he had gone one foreign

"put your thumb mark in the co

"Why should I da

er-a scholarly man with visionary, pale

Sill's heart, if nothing more. The girl would throw all the

Shadd, who swayed o

mound of Meteor, which lay like a shag

ound of seas falling down one after another on wasted rocks, on shifting sand bars-a powerful monotone seeming to increase in the ear with fuller attention. The contrast was marked between the heavy-lying peace of the inner harbor and that hungry reverberation from without of waters seeking fresh holds along a mutilated coast. On damp nights when the wind hauled

y said, his mystified face turned toward the water. "I'm a ma

nd no mistake. Always seeing how fast y

trust

m the flesh, that I know. But here's a

he seaward side of Met

oman, that's certain. Next door to ending in a fish's tail, too, sometimes I think, when I see her carr

can't s

u with your head and shoulders wa

master smil

n't requir

then. It's a slippery embrace, take the w

the sea,"

you mistrust women and the like o' that. There's too much h

es and the buoys. I can find my way in the dark, where another

Peter. "What's a landmark good

the Customs House, he added, "What life must be wit

of the bench rose and took Pet

this talk of

isted out of the big seaman's grip and from a distance shouted, "If you weren't so cussed bashful, you

y. It was a sore point with Sam Dreed that the ship chandler had that day e

lize each other," m

y by the sudden passing at their backs

rick wall of the Customs House, held from collapsing by a row of rusty iron stars, seemed to bulge more than

ument which could afford gratification to her only when swept lightly all at one time by

ed for her nod was

lls of his heart pinch

Zinie Shadd said, from his end of the bench. The woman p

oose woman if ev

use of the fatal instantaneous power she wielded to spin men's blood and pitch their souls derelict on that impassioned current. Who shall put his finger on the source of this power? There were girls upon girls with eyes as black, cheeks as like her

port. "Sticks in the slant of a man's eye like the shado

his body, denominated the Western Ocean roll. He was a mighty man

with her shillyshallying," said Zinie Shadd. "I know the character of the man, from long acquaintance, and I know t

dy to drop their principles like rags-yes, at a mere secret sign manifested in her eye, where the warmth of her bl

he yellow road which turned east at the Preaching Tree. She passed, looked back, slashed a piece of dripping kelp through the air so close that salt drops stung his pale eyes, laughed aloud, and at the top of her la

native to such a foot, and each toe left its print distinct and even in the dust. With his eye for queer details, he remembered that print and

r that she had sold her pearls to lift the lien on Cap'n Sam Dreed's ship, with

ere and there a spur of light, a surface sparkle. The serenity of his own soul was in part a reflection of this nightly calm, when the spruce on the bank could not be known from its fellow in the water by a man standing on his head. Moreover, to maintain this calm was the plain duty of the harbor mas

his time she gave him short shrift. He was pushing forward, near sundown, to take the impulse of an eddy at the edge

tale of that quarrel. The truth was not quite so bold. She had been caught by the tide, which, first peerin

of his two thumbs hard at her armpits

a vague astonishment. She was as lean as a man at the hips, and

my girl-. Hea

neck and kissed him-a moist, full-budded, passionate, and salty kiss. Even on the edge of doom, it was plain, she woul

ection, he seized the butts of his oars, which had begun to knock together. Caddie Sills sank across a thwart and shivered a little to mark the cro

hispered. "Was I sick

answered with the

r at her breast, which she caused to rise and fall stormil

uld have lifted so much as his little finger. Do what you will with me after this.

is throat with the slow su

othing in the world. I happe

rom the humility of gratitude she went to the extreme of impudence, and laughed in his face-a ringing, bra

tainly are. I've heard of you. Yes, I have, only this morning. I'm a solitary like yourse

this for an original and fearsome, not to say delectable, vein of talk. She came on like the sea itself

d electrified the tip of his ear with a tendril of hair. He saw that she wore coral no

t of Sam Dreed," he said, in dull tones. "And her

oke himself had clambered into t

le that I know of," said Cad Sills, sucking in

a breath of fire fanning his cheek. Perilously t

dark woman, laughing. "I don't wear very wel

brazen hardness put him from his half-formed purpose. He add

ttle man," she said

g the coral and letting it fall, intimating that

d to earth. When he rais

had yielded this wild being up, but did she speak with the sea's v

was an affront upon him in his present mood. Now that she was lost to him, he could not, by any makeshift of reason, be rid

, like a spirit approaching the confines of the dead. He stepp

ess filled all nature. Not a whisper from the branches overhead, not a rustle from the dark mold underfoot. Moonlight in one place flecked the motionless leaves of an alder. Trunk and twigs were quite dissolved in darkn

't have stirred, let her say what she would

e from her passionate eyes. She was the daughter of a sea captain by his fifth wife. He had escaped the other four. They had died or been deserted in foreign ports, but this one he could not escape. Tradition had it that he lost the figurehead from his ship on the nuptial voyage, attributed this disaster to his

venly by his plate. The hand lamps on the shelf wore speckled brown-paper bags inverted over their chimneys. A portrait of a man playing the violin hung out, in massive gilt, over the table,

was full of money, in gold and silver pieces. He counted it, and sat thoughtful. Later he went out of the house an

ls again. Then he spied her at nightfall, reclin

to tread on her shadow, cleared

u said? Did you mean

w the core of an app

t, Mr. Happen-so. I

ow. We'll be married tom

e, I wonder? I've had a change of

ort space of time," Ra

n her eye. "Well,

fe. Again little Rackby felt that glow of health and hardness in her person, as if one of the cynical and beautiful immortals of the Greeks confronted him. H

hen-at the top of the hill.

t eight sharp, by the west face of the clock. An

urn. There was a prickling above his heart and at the cords of his throat. The harbor was as b

of sunset. The creature exhibited a strange fixity of outline, as if it had been a chance configuration of rocks. Rackby in due time felt a flaming impatience shoot upward from

he clock, whose gilt hands were still discernible

were thick. They made him think of the eager beating of many fiery little hearts, exposed by gloom, lost again in that opal

ained his ear for that swift footfall. Suddenly he felt her come upon him from behind, buoyan

three

arms until she all but cried out. There was nothing he could say. Her breath carried the keen scent

he thick of the horse-chestnut tree. A load of hay went by, the rack creaking, the driver sunk well out of sight. He heard the dreaming note of the tree toad; frogs cro

at once rain fell in heavy drops; blinds banged to and fro, a strong sm

iant and surprising motion of the whole body. Her eyes were full of a strange, bright w

ed leaves of the horse-chestnut did not stir. Surely the

tern in the fist of a man swinging toward them with vast stri

ght. She whirled out of Rackby's arms and ran toward Sam Dreed. The big viking

s, falling on his neck. "Do we go

he trees?" he boomed at her,

id Cad Sills, wrung with pain, bu

g side of my

It's the littl

the same piece of dar

is from any mortal man? Then I'm not disappointed. But let me ask

es

s the harbor lines? Maybe you think I have a whole chest of pearls at your beck and call, Sam Dre

s tearful wi

ng the girl by the waist with his free arm. "You have got just enou

e felt the first of many wild pangs in thus subjec

question. For what should it matter to Jethro whe

" Cad Sills flung over her shoulder a

ousle-headed giant who encircled her. Her shoulder blades were pinched back; the line of the marvelous full throat lengthened

ops ticked from one to another of the broad, green leaves over the ha

Sunk in the thick dust which the rain had slightly stippled in slow droppings, he saw the tender prints of

y to day the parson wrote the text for its preachments in colored chalk. The moon was full upon it, and Rackby saw in crimson lettering the wo

the Lord, I damn ye up and down. May you burn as I burn,

light footprints she had made in springing from his side-as if

extent of his shame. Zinie Shadd called after him to know if he

aged loiterer affirmed, "shipping as he did along w

e utterances, or perhaps to quench some stinging th

did not cut the drink and take a decent wi

to swap the dev

t with a cou

knot with my tongue that I

sea itself to throw in his path the woman who had set this blistering agony in his soul? There it lay like rolled glass; the black piles under the footbridge were prolonged to twice their length by their own shadow

life; it was death; flow, slack,

year, if he mentioned women at all, it was in a tone to convey tha

blood of full-bodied summer. The long leaves of the sumach, too, were like guilty fingers dipped in blood. But the little man paid no heed to the analogies which the seasons presented to his conscience in their

as if clods of turf had been hurled against it, he took down his Bible from its stand. At the

ced the remainder of that text which he and Cad Sills t

ther do I damn thee:

standing open an

with an ague, in a succession of coppery cold squalls which had not yet overtaken

e hills were lost in rushing darkness. At his back sounded the pathetic clatter of a dead spruce against its living neighbor, bespeaking the deviltry of woodla

e powerfully stirred, by an anguish

to his knees and remained mute, his arms extend

ap'n Sam Dreed, was wrecked on

in, and a wailing outside of the Old Roke busy with his agonies. In a second his room was full of crowding seamen

p?" whispered Rackby.

. He didn't come away. Men can say what they like of Sam Dreed

heir oils, plucking their beards with a sense of trespass, hea

Caddie Sills, faintly. "Leav

e against the other with a rasp and shrie

ame back, and, looking into her pale face, cried out, horror-struck, "I

s no harm in that. I was damned and basted good and brown

rself, for a fateful living figurehead, like her mother before her. The bit of coral was still slung round her throat. The harbor master rec

good to you, that's true; but still you h

forgive me," said

ybe you would feel none the worse for

s,

for my mother did not before me. Listen. You are town clerk. You write th

by n

? Don't say no to me. Say you will. Just the scratching of a pen, and what

tide horse over Pull-an'-be-Damned thus, he said, eagerly, "Yes, yes, i

happy," murm

ster, timorously, feeling that she was

lls, with a remembering smile. "The s

appeared and little Rackby was

windows. Her lips were parted, as if she were only weary and asleep. But in one glance he

own clerk, and he gave her this name when he came to register her birth on the broad paper furnished

dred dollars. Such is the provision in the statutes, in ord

ew from that night when he sat in the dusk with the broad

her adoptive father. When she got big enough they went

o the sea beyond. There he lost himself in speculation, sometimes wondering if Deep-water Pete

e side of the flesh, and that the sea, a jealous mistress, had s

since this voice in the eyes was all the voice she had. She could neither speak nor hear from birth. It was as if kind nat

l. Then, when they saw the girl skipping along the shore with kelp in her hands they

" Zinie Shadd averred. He had caught her lis

block," said Zinie Shadd's wife, "or I sh

joice. His forethought was great and pathetic. He took care that she should learn to caress him with her finger tips alone. He remembered the fa

o flame; the flame sprang up waist-high, hot and yellow. Fearful, he beat it down to a spark again. But then again he was cold. He puffed

assion of Cad Sills

iny antlers of gray caribou moss, with straggling little messages and admonishings of love. Her apron pocket was never without its quota of these tiny shells of brightest peacock blue. They trailed

ad heard on the November hillside, when Caddie Sills had run past him at the Preaching Tree. This voice of Day's was like the voice sleeping in the great bronze horn hanging in a rack, which his fat

asion might be great e

as he held made him out not one whit better off than Zinie Shadd, who averred that the heart of man was but a pendulum swayi

of, to my judgment," said one. "That girl is

he treasured up a being literally without guile, one who grew straight and white as a birch sapling. "Pavilioned in splendor" were th

ion of their gaze. The harbor master fixed his eyes upon the harbor; but little Day turned her

forests over which they sailed, dark and dizzying masses full of wavering black holes, through which sometimes a blunt-nosed bronze fish sank like a bolt,

ize by reason of their dark shadows made one with them. One by one the yellow riding lights were hung, far in. They shone like new-minted coins; the harbor was itself a purse of black velvet, to which the harbor master held the strings. The quiet-the

htest sound to break the quiet, unless that of little fish jumping playfully in

rd Day Rackby's ei

the village. A cool wind surged through the sparkl

hro Rackby, "gnarled, withered, still ha

e reviving winds. The sea was blown clear of ships. In the harbor a few still sat like seabirds drying plumage. Against the explosive wh

ched back, her heavy braid overside and just failing the wat

, dazzling against the somber green upland. The red crown of a maple showed as if a great spoke of

arm hay, clover-spiced, as it went creaking past, a square-topped load, swishing and dropping fragrant tufts.-This odor haunted him

t him steadily out of those blue, half-shut lazy eyes of his scrupulously guarded foster child. The flesh cringed on his body. Was she lurking there still? Certainly he had

t golden beauty unless, perhaps, in a certain charming bluntness of sculpturing at the very tip of her nose, a def

fted close to the bank, and a shower of maple

adly. "They delight to go, these adventurers, swooping dow

ike form of his daughter, whose

eflected. "Almost at as light a whis

isplayed against canary plush, was a string of pearls, like winter moons for size and luster. Her speaking eye flashed on them and her

d in the interest of Cap'n Dreed so long ago. They were a luckless purchase on the part of the jeweler. All

of all times, in the face and eyes of

lding a gun in one hand, and a dead sheldrake in the ot

ave you married the sea at last

n ugly glint was in his usually gentle eye, but he did not

rifle here, and a trifle there, and a leetle pinch from nowhere, just

s befitted the character formed in a harder sc

he saw the strange man beside him she stopped short and averted her fac

eep-water Peter, as if she had been

y interposed. The gleam of t

't h

speak n

e met his, and a spark was struck, not dying out instantly, such

nly the quickened current of his blood t

strange,"

with its deepwater melodious

e harbor master returne

, but Rackby, with a stern hand at his

se speaking eye had met his so squarely. The mother had played him fals

weir. The sun was low and dazzled him. He came close and saw that this was Rackby's daughter. She had slipped into the wei

face and body trembled, but she uttered no slightest sou

Peter tore the sleeves from her arms and bound the f

t, shivered, set her damp lips with thei

ed, within a biscuit's toss of the weirs, Cad Sills had served the same fare to Rackby.

the harbor, heard the rattle of oars under his wharf, and in n

laid the girl down, as he had laid her mother, nor

here like this

yes; a new brilliance danced there. With a shiver, the harbor master perce

ackby," said Peter. "I took the

!" he cried, and these again were the very words Cad Sills had

say," said De

d Jethro. "If I find you here again

ot what is yours, Harbor Master," he sai

es, and a light played out of them that followed him into the dark and stream

n the corner of his eye. Times past count, he plied his oars among the cross currents

e Medusa's head of trailing weed uttered in venomous warning. Under flying moons the shaggy hemlock grove was like a bearskin thrown over the white and leprous nakedness of stony flank

ded in the very lee of the island, at a point where the stone rampart was fifty feet in height, white as a bone, and pitted like a mass of grout. This cliff was split from top to bottom, perhaps by frosts, perhaps by the fall of the buried meteor.

grance was broadcast there, the clean fragrance of nature at her most alone. Crows whirred overhead; their hoarse plaint, with its hint of desolation, made a kind of emptiness in the wood, and he went on, step by step, as in a dream, wrapt, expectant. Was she here? Could Rackby's will detain

by quivering shafts of the sun, some of which, as if by special providence, fell between all the outer saplings, and struck far in. A certain dream sallowness was

e stillness, which absorbed all but the beating of his heart, he heard the dry tick, tick of a beech leaf falling. Those that still clung to the sleek upper boughs were no more than a delicate yellow cloud or glowing autumnal atmosphere suffusing the black bole of the tree wit

p-water Peter had a moment of that speechless joy which comes whe

curled about the rim. The arm was of touching whiteness against that cold, black round, which faithfully reflected the silver sheen of the flesh

rest floor, grew ruddy, spied out a secret sparkle hidden in a fallen leaf, shone on twisting threads of gossamer-like lines of runn

oking back. The light through the tiny spruces dappled her body; she stopped as if shot; he came forward, humble and

rock outcropping, green-starred; but next instant she had slipped into a cleft where h

or you?" said Pe

ack, leaned forward, and drew a mi

she was getting supper. Of late, when she came near him, she ado

talked kindly to each other with their eyes. They communed in mysterious ways-by looks, by slight

t once gone, she became unfathomable and lost to hi

he waywardness she manifested. Evid

with a tremulous hand. "I will make you a lit

e to her bosom and around her neck, which

st him, and stretch out its bloodless hands to link with living ones? That sinister co-

rom him like a fawn. A guilty light was

n the lonely darkness to come up with her. In his turn he re

r mortis of winter itself. All calm, all in order-not a ship of all those ships displaying riding l

bosom. Somewhere beyond the harbor mouth were the whispers of the tide's unrest, never to be quite

sacrifice to effect a cure. On the morrow he presented hi

e jeweler, going through the

? Who

oud," said

be doing with a string of pearls? He must go at once. Yet he must not return empty-handed.

e a sick horse. As he pulled toward Meteor the fog by degrees stole into his very brain until he could not rightl

urning at the edge of the fog, a jewel laid in cotton wool. Its arch just rea

ll soon be out of my troub

e a creation of the brain. He saw the black piles of the herring wharf, and nex

ell from the south. A white light played on the threshold of the sea, and the dark bank of seaward-rolling fog prese

ilver clouds floated, whose image

hro Rackby, aloud. H

tone rampart before going in. His eye softened in anticipation of welcom

found out. Not a sound but that of the steeple clock on the kitchen shel

faster, scanning the ground. At first in his search he did not call aloud, perhaps because all his intercourse with her had been silent, as if she we

an old man now, and asked for nothing but a corner in her house. Then again, he had here a little surprise

im that she was hiding mischievously. That was it-she was hiding-just fooling her old father. Come; it wo

y little he stumbled through the hemlock grove, beseeching each tree to yield up out of obdurate shadow that beloved form, to v

his possessions, and the man into the bargain. Yes, his books, his silver

to cry out. Had he not said she would, one day? Yes, yes, one little

ugh silver silences a muttering was borne to him, a great lingering roar made and augmented

rance. He ran forward and threw himself on his knees

fit habitation for such a woman as Day Rackby. But did that old madman think that

bered in long corridors of faulted stone, while in its lacy edge winked and sparkled new shells of

ate sweetness, a wordless gift, a silent form floating soft by his side-something seeking and

he sa

og. There, for minutes or hours, she had lain prone upon the sands, nostrils wide, legs and arms covered with grains of sand in

den head in her arms, the splendid shoulders lax, she felt a strong impulse toward the water shoot through her form fr

arms she had lain; fatal trespasser, whom her father had sworn to kill for some vileness in his nature. What cou

side of the crag whose crest still glowed faintly red. It would be night here shortly. Deep-water Pe

ered, holding t

er siren's face was pale. Her blue eyes burned on the gems with a strange and hau

were wrapped deeper moment by moment. His fingers trembled at the back of her neck a

," he cried

ree of him o

my thanks?" P

one. Peter, stooping, read what was written there; he cried for joy, and crushed her

w her eyes go past him and fix themselves high up at the top of that crag. Peter loosened his hold wi

ter's lips was poison to her soul. It seemed to Jethro in that moment that a ringing cry burst from those dumb lips, but perhaps it was one of the voices of the surf. The girl's arms were lifted to

but the cry, even if the old man h

GARD

CES NOY

ribner's

long mirror as she had flashed through the hall at home, and it seemed almost too good to be true that the radiant small person in the green muslin frock with the wreath of golden hair bound about her head, and the sea-blue eyes laughing b

buy me a bonni

e, all her own

o buy me a bon

buy me a bonn

tie

rb-garden. He was looking at her over his shoulder, at once startled and amused, and she saw that he was wearing a rather shabby

er, in a tone at once

arried his head rather splendidly, like the young bronze Greek in Uncle Roland's study at home. But his eyes-his eyes were strange-quite dark and bur

one?" she asked, and the m

ticular, unles

d in a rather stately small voice, "because, you see, I don't know you. P

Fanes have left for

nor before he sailed, but Lady Audrey only left last week. She had

Green Gardens

ice, "just this afternoon. I came over to say good-by to

d whisper. He flung out his arm against the sun-warmed bricks of the high wal

isn't it? I cried at first-and then I thought that it would be happier if it wasn't lonel

ardly conveyed the impression of unrelieved gloo

ne confessed remorsefully, a lovely and guilty rose stai

head with a sudden

than a Puritan at Green Gardens any day. Let's

do you mind if I ask you

e most beautiful hands that she had ever seen, slim and brown and fine-they looked as though they would be miraculously

wonderingly; "was that why y

artly. It's a quotation from a

e tripped in its eagerne

die think on

some corner of

er England. Th

e magical littl

ine-he's sicker for it in Heaven, I'll warrant." He pulled himself up swiftly at the look of amazement in Daphne's eyes. "I've clean forgotten my manners," he confessed ruefully. "No, don't get that flyi

" she said. "I'd love

thought that she must have imagined the words. "Now, can't we make ourselves comfortable for a little while? I'd fee

rock. "It's-it's pretty hard to be comfortable

o spoil their frocks? Cushions it shall be. There are some e

hrough her fingers, her eyes

you know about the lacquer che

shoulders, with the brilliant and disarming smile. "The game's up, thanks to my inspired lunacy! But I'm going t

re you Ste

all mocking grace, his hand on his he

nt to pick up the wicker basket

o go-entirely, absolutely right-but I am going to beg you to stay. I don't k

"but five years ago I was not allowed to come to Green Gardens for weeks becaus

eaped in those burne

hate to lash a child," he said. "They we

, and it was June, and she remembered his laughter. He was standing quite still by the golden straw beehive, but he had thrown one

he cushions?" she de

Daphne drew back a little at the s

he thrust them deep in his pockets, standing very straight. "I do think," he said carefully, "I do think you had better go. The fact

hell. Because you need me. And no matter how many wicked things you have done, there can'

n I cannot harm you. God himself can't grudge me this little space of wonder-he knows how far I've come for it-how I've fought and str

sked Daphne wistfully, with

ould ever dream of you, my Wonder? You ar

radiant smile. "Please let us get the

be a pane of class cut out in one of the s

n?" She saw again that thrill of wonder o

ute, Loveliness-I'll get through and open the south door for you-no chance that way of spoiling the frock." He swung himself up with the swift, sure

East Indian room, gilding the soft tones of the faded chintz, touching very gently the polished furniture

said in a hushed voice

he thought I did it better than any one else. I think so too." She flushed at the mirth in his eyes, but hel

d tell that-" His hands hovered over it for a moment-dropped. "No matter-the new owners are probably not seafarers! The lacquer chest is at the far end, isn't it? Yes, here. Are three enough-four? We're off!" But still he lingered, sweeping the great room with his dark eyes. "It's full of all kinds of junk-they never liked it-no period, you see. I had the run of it-I loved it as though it were alive; it was alive, for me. From Elizabeth's day down, all the family adventurers brought their treasures here-beaten gold and hammered silver-mother-of-pearl and peacock fea

all, that adventurer. He has brought home the beaten gold of his love, and

he adventurers. "You can never be sad again-you will always be gay and proud-because

is beautiful nonsense, and I am a wicked girl, and I hope that he will

even after he had arranged the cushions against the rose-red wall, even af

"There used to be a jolly little fat brown one tha

bee-garden, and the sleepy happy noises of small things tucking themselves away for the night, and

's things to a chap out there, and this one fastened itself around me like a vise. It starts where he's sitting in a cafe in Berlin with a lot of German Jews around him,

to see the

moon at G

thrilling-swe

table, u

l, and hea

n the lit

water swe

brown, abov

the immorta

mill, unde

re Beauty y

nty? and Q

ws yet, fo

truths, and

urch clock at

e honey sti

ul," she said,

, caught like rats in the trap of the ugly fever we called living, it was black torture and yet our

u tell me about it

it-I had to, I had to. I had to wait until father and Audrey went away. I knew they'd hate to see me-she was my stepmother, you know, and she always loathed me, and he never cared. In Eas

k to Green Gardens-why couldn'

en-and they told me I had disgraced my name and Green Gardens and my country-and I went mad with pride and sham

ly great pity for what he had lost, great grief for what he might have had. For a minute she forgot that she was Daphne, the he

't mind. Now you have come home-now it is all don

flutes would sink to silence, and I would hear the little yellow-headed cousin of the vicar's singing in the twilight, singing, 'There is a lady, sweet and kind' and 'Weep you no more, sad fountains' and 'Hark, hark, the lark.' And the small painted yellow faces and the little wicked hands and perfumed fans would vanish and I would see again the gay beauty of the lady who hung above the mantel in the long drawing-room, the lady who laughed across the centuries in her white muslin frock, with eyes that matched the blue ribbon in her wind-blown curls-the lady who was as young and lovely as England, for all

him. "Oh, surely, surely-you have paid enoug

ephen Fane. "

l startled echo h

ed. "Did you think

go." Her lips were white,

his eyes, dark and wondering,

Loveliness, wha

go away again,

you, God help me, have thought me tragic and abused. You shall not think that. In a few minutes I will be gone-I will not have you waste a dream on me. Listen-there is nothing vile that I have not done-nothing, do you hear? Not clean sin

hy, St

a pipe-bowl, little puffs of white in the palm of my hand, little drops of liquid on a bal

hat swift grace of his, an

will you walk to

, watching the troubled wonder o

are you,

seve

us, I had forgotten that one co

listening to a distant whis

t-that i

ed, tender and ironic

Cambridge for a week, and I told hi

f quickly. Is he c

the so

are you listening?" For

said

s afternoon-to forget everything but Robi

said D

er I have gone, you will remember that now all is very well with me, because I have found the deep meadow

the gate, he paused and put his arms about the wall, as though he would never let it go, laying his cheek against the sun-warmed bricks, his eyes fast closed. The w

What are you

in, did you ever he

dded

you know what

mean? Why, he's been dead for months-killed in the campaign i

painted gate. Then she said, very carefully: "Some one tho

ffice made all kinds of ghastly blunders-it was a quick step from 'missing in action' to 'killed.' And he'd p

he would. Will you get my basket, Robin? I left it by the beehive. There are s

o the gate, searching the twilight desperately with straining eyes. There was no one there-no one at all-b

roughened surface, to touch it very gently with her lips. She could hear Robin whistling down

KS IN B

NNIE

he Cosm

Jehan at Agra to erect the Taj Mahal in memory of a dead wife and a cold hearthstone, so the Bon Ton Hotel, even to the pillars with red-freckled monoliths and peacock-backed

to form as any that ever mourned the dy

Ton boasted a broken finger-nail or that little brash place along th

-divan and table d'hote séances, "tea" where the coffee was served with whipped cream and the tarts built in four tie

as almost interchangeable with eighteen's. Indeed, Bon Ton grandmothers with backs and French h

were richer because she had dwelt in them, but who

osure suite of five rooms and three baths, jazz-danc

accoutrements gripped the B

ave swept it li

leful by needleful, from little colored s

es of it for crepe de Chine nightgowns a

s with lace yokes that were scarcely more to the skin than the print of a wave edge running up sand, and then little fr

the filet pattern, but she liked the delicate threadi

through the lacy mesh of the

woman's inevitable visualization of her ultimate Leander, liked, fascinatedly, to watch Mrs. Samstag's nicely manicured fingers

of the windows that overlooked an expensive tree and lake vista of Central Park, he had wanted very suddenly and very badly to feel those fingers in his

sat himself down on a red velvet chair opposite Mrs. Samstag. His knees wide-spread, taxed his knife-pressed gray trousers

ing?" asked Mrs. Samstag, her s

uldn't stand it"-relishin

d now beside the invitational plush divans and peacock chairs, paying twenty minutes after-dinner standing penance. Men with Wall Street eyes and blood pressure, slid surreptitious celluloid toothpicks, and gathered around the cigar stand. Orchestra music flickered. Young girls, the traditions of demure

ith folding tables.

t that enveloped her like a squaw, a titillation of diamond aigrettes in her Titianed hair and an aftermath of

at unduly perhaps-expressing his own k

analysis. "Eight ninety-eight an ounce." Her nose crawlin

t started in the produce business in Jersey City and the only perfume he had was se

rs. Samstag, tucking away into her beaded hand-bag her filet

Mr. Latz for want o

bridge, and I think it's terrible for a grandmother to blondine so red; but we've both been

to these allusions, reddening

oor litt

e said, and ag

o her clay the years might have gained. There were little dark areas beneath the

e Mrs. Samstag, in spite of the only slightly plump and

de of her head and down into her shoulder blade with a great crackling and blazing of nerves. It was not unusual for her d

ricks of an exploring needle. Then the under-eyes began to look their muddiest. They we

rather riveting even Mrs. Samstag's suspicion that h

too," he said, noting

er this delight

my neuralgia spells to m

ntil I had you to every specialist in Europe. I know a thing or

file inclined to lift and fall a

a-a widow who wants to do right by her grown

ightly upholstered in effect as he in his modish suit, then clutching himsel

ew up a swift, brown lo

but from n

other was an

ays say that it's ridiculous that a woman in such

her and h

o dancing down in the grill with the y

han any mother and d

said Mrs. Samstag, not without a curve to her voice, then hastily: "But the best chi

girl,

headache was. That long drive. That windy hill-top with two men to keep me from jumping into the grave after him. Ask Alma. That's how I care when I ca

ared, it's not much use hoping you would ever-c

o little gothic arches of anxiety, a rash of tiny perspiration broke out over his blue shaved face and as he sat on t

t, ain't it?" he said agai

never be happy until-she cares again-like that. I always say

rd the imperceptible half-inch tha

ut greenly then as the mois

put a fish in water but you cannot ma

nee touched Mrs. Samstag's, so that he sprang

tly than he might have, without the ac

the lace ou

ave you heard the new one that Al Jolson pulls at the Winter Garden?" But actually, the roar was

f to prove that his stiff lips co

alent for them,

. L

polated, widely e

asked, and placed her hand to her heart so prettil

would make it so hard. It's just what has kept me from ask

ow, Mr. La

oo

hter. Not one of those me

, up to five years ago, Carrie, while the best little mother

a grand son you were

oo

oo

as a humpback, Carrie, not a real one, but all stooped from the heavy years when she was helping my father to get his star

s-L

e. Real Russian. Set me back eighteen thousand, wholesale, and she never knew different than that it cost eighteen

lbergs. They used to tell me how it hung right down to her heels and she

ing, without me exactly knowing why, I guess, for-the one little w

arted, her teeth show

ve never owned any, but ask Alma if I don't st

what you would call a youngster in y

is. A man like you

ow I come to think about it-I never once mentioned my little mother's sable coat to her. I couldn't have satisfied a young girl like that or her me, Carrie, any more than I could satisfy

le lie that gives every woman a right to be a liar. I'm for

for you! Mad? Just doing that little thin

that

man, Carrie, and unless I'm pretty much off my

er, Loo. A

, Carrie, to give a woma

e her father's death I haven't said, 'Alma, I

new

didn't even have the heart to take the summer-covers off the furniture. You can believe me or not, but half the time with just me to eat it, I wouldn't

hat I couldn't get home for supper right away I knew my little mother would turn o

een so easy. People think I'm a rich widow and with her father's memory to consider and a young lady daughter, naturally I let them think it, but on my seventy-four hundred a year it h

lever little manager

bber in knit underwear as the business ever saw, but-well, you know how i

you couldn't afford for yourself. I don't say this for publication, Carrie, but in Wall Street alone, outside of my broker

nly eighteen, but she's my

Alma would be the last to

quiet, reserved. But she's my all, Louis. I love my baby too much to-to marry w

you if she wasn't. You think I

hat child won't so much as go to spend the night with a girl friend away from me. Her quiet ways

ng we pick out in our new h

oo

t pick for her. Didn't that youngster go out to Dayton the other day and land a contract for the surgical fittings for a big new hospital out there befo

was almost fear seemed to strike

nt her with me. If marrying her off is your idea, it's best you know it now in th

moved that his

ur mouth, you only prove to me furth

, when you get to

ys have said she's a

forward like most young girls nowadays. She's the kind of a child that would rather s

young chickens that know more they oughtn't to know about life

orter and my salvation in my troubles. More like the mother, I sometimes tell her, and me the ch

t to be a fine girl to have you for a mother and now it will b

Louis

e, my

Samstag and Louis Latz c

se, a room redeemed by an upright piano with a green silk and gold-lace shaded floor lamp glowing by it. Two gilt-framed photographs and a cluster of ivory knickknacks on the white mantel. A heap of hand-made cushions. Art edi

other's entrance. Sure enough she had been reading and her cheek was a little

rcle of light and switching on the cei

her small face was heart-shaped and clear as an almond, that the pupils of her gray eyes were deep and dark like cisterns and to young Leo Fri

imid adolescence about her, yet when she said, "Mama, you stayed down so

z-and I-sat

gainst Mrs. Samstag's right temple. Alma co

all righ

herself down on a divan, its naked greenness relieve

, and quite casually took up her mother's beaded hand-bag where it had fallen in her

mstag, jerking it back, a

u're in for neuralgia, I'

in the invariable long sleeve she affected, drawing Alma bac

ama tonight! Sweeth

ted Miss Samstag's groping along the bead

you ha

something else, Alma. Someth

broken your

've been a good moth

a, yes, b

hasn't been my fault-you'

don't und

ing is changed now. Mama's going to turn over a new leaf

how happy it makes me

look

u-you fri

is Latz, don'

mama. Ve

oung and handsome

u m

nd loose. A man who treated his mother like a queen and who worked

am

t. Come to me, Alma, stay with

ha

you seen it coming

n wh

I've been as grieving a widow to a man as a woman co

me over Miss Samstag's face,

d you

I buried him in that blizzard back there, but could you ask for

-what-are

lm

a simoon and Miss Samstag jumped then from her mother's em

no-no. Oh,

alf strangle Mrs. Samstag, so that sh

nst me. Oh, God! Why was I bo

arry him. You can

a good man wants to marry me and give us both a good home? That's my th

him. Darling, you would

d in her throat and she was suddenly so small and stricken, that with a gasp for fear she m

lm

y Miss Samstag was her coolly firm little se

t marry L

I? Wa

to a nice, deservin

wh

ha

to her face, rocking in an agony of self

me out of it all? My misery!

-ma

expect it. I'm here just to suffer. My daughter will see to that. Oh, I know what is on your mind. You want to make me out something-terrible-because Dr. Heyman once taught me how to help myself a little when I'm nearl

the ague of her passion shook her, Alma, her own face swept white and her voice guttered wi

I know your fight. How brave it is. Even when I'm crossest with you, I realize. Alma's fighting with you, dearest, every inch o

ows she's not an angel-sometimes when she thinks what she's put her little girl through this last year, she jus

n't talk

ve too much worry in this big hotel trying

in favor of finding ourselves a swee

asn't. I won't be the one to humiliate his memory-a man who enjoyed keeping up appearances the way he did

you've said the same thing so o

obody who hasn't been tortured as I have, can

't only the neuralgia any more. It's just desire. That's what's so terrible to

her face, shuddering

y own child

not afraid. It's been worse this last month because you've been nervous, dear. I understand now. You see, I-didn't dream of you and-Louis Latz. We'

crazy to propose and my child can't let him come to the point because she is afraid to leave her mot

hot cascades do

ared about anything-j

done. Ruined my ba

N

ving a good man to live up to. The minute I find myself getting the craving for-it-don't you see, baby,

basis to start m

uld be the same as to kill me. I've been a bad, weak woman, Alma, to be so afraid that m

, I'll neve

want to get rid of you. The first thing we'll pick out in

it's wrong.

ed. Alma, don't cry! It's my cure. Just think, a good man. A beautiful home to take my mind

ma, if it wer

y life! I never felt the cr

that before

l reason. It's the beginning of

thought yo

of neuralgia. But I wouldn't have anything for it except the electr

a, how I pray

o me. Why, I'd rather cut off my right hand than marry a

to explain to him, dear that

t to get rid of me, to degrade me until I kill myself! If I was ever anything else than what I am

, sweetheart, if it is so

it ag

ev

u should have to know. But it's over, Alma. Y

tle while, mama

. N

w mon

Alma, mama's cured! What happiness. Kiss me, darling. So h

to herself the little run of fear through her heart, Alma's las

in bed that night heart-beat to heart-beat, the electric pad under her pillow warm to the h

h such bad times, it's your turn now, A

ou mama, even if-he

does! Those were his wo

ever le

and in your way! That's another reason I'm so happy, Alma. I'm not alone,

-sh-

king him to buy a ten dollar carnation for the Convalescent Home Bazaar, that he would o

, m

He sells goods to Doctor Gronauer's clinic and he says the same thing about him

r leave yo

rop off to sleep, pink, there in the

a night seem so long. The distant click of the elevator, depositing a night-hawk. A plong of the bed spring. Somebody's cough. A train's shriek. The jerk of plumbing. A window being raised. That creak which lies hid

oated up for the moment out of her young sleep, but she was very drowsy

re you a

ay tense until her daughter's br

to fear, began to roll over her in waves, locking her throat and curling h

ow-must steer her mind

al. Circassian walnut or mahogany dining room? Alma should decide. A baby-grand piano. L

he cried a little, far back in her throat with the small hissing noise of a steam-rad

Top-coat-sable. Louis' hair thinning. Tonic. Oh God, let me sleep. Please, God. The wheeze rising in her closed throat. That little threatening desire that must not shape

elp me. That burning ache to rest and to uncurl of nervousness. All the thousand, thousand little pores of her body, screaming each

ut-baby-grand-the pores de

cables out dreadfully in her neck, began by infinitesimal processes to swing herself gently to th

r, the mattress rising after her with scarcely a whisper of its stuffings and her

van. The slow taut feeling for it and the floor t

ening and closing of a door that Carrie Samstag, the beaded bag in her hand, foun

iston out of the hand-bag and with a dry little insuck of breath, pinching u

ably it sickened her to see them. Little graves. Oh, oh, little graves.

ere down in her heart-beats: "

ths! The pinching up of the skin. He

No, mama. N

Oh-oh-graves for Alma

ished, Mrs. Samstag found her way back to bed. She was in a drench of sweat when she got there and the conflagra

aking faint she could never find the words to describe, Mrs. Samstag, with that dreadful dew of her sweat constantly out over her, lay with her twisted lips to the faint perfume of th

ht that smiled into their apartment fo

r of roses. She places a shower of them on her mother's coverl

nd Mrs. Samstag re

rning,

ui

hese roses, to be pink with the

him here, they were married the following Thursday in Greenwich, Connecticut, without even allowing Carrie time for the blue twill tra

ver like a little white flower to Leo Friedlander, the sole other attendant, and who during the ceremony yearned at her with his gaze. But her ey

little ivory bedroom all appointed in rose-enamel toilet trifles, could be prayerful with the peace of it, that the old Carrie, who could come

the privacy of these honeymoon days, was carefully belied on his lips, and at Alma's depriving him now and then of his wife's company, pack

r upon one of these provocations. "I don't believe she'

on him, and resolutely, so that her fear for him should always subordinate her fear of him, she bit down her

little quivering nerve beneath the temple, she shut him out of her presence for a day and a night, and when he came fuming up every

tiptoe in and sit wi

through these spells like I do. The leas

ridor with a strut to his resentment t

ing sleep and watching, Carrie rolled her eyes

e. Just this once. To tide me over. O

A lamp was overturned. But toward morning, when Carrie lay exhausted,

. Never leave me, Alma. Never-

arfully and wonderfully made in mulberry upholstery with mother-of-pearl caparisons. The fourteen-room apartment on West End Avenue, with four baths, drawing-room of pink brocaded walls and Carrie's Roman bathroom that was prec

e bazaar instinct, would fall asleep almost directly after dinner her head back against her husband's shoulder, round

his newspapers-Wall Street journals and the comic weeklies which he liked to read-would sit an entire eve

tle out of crease and Mrs. Latz after eight o'clock and under cover

ts. So often they discovered it was pleasanter to remain at home. Indeed, during these days of household adjustment, as many as four evenings a week Mrs. Latz do

eness of what must have crouched low in Louis' mind ever diminished. Sometimes,

curative smell of spirits of camphor on the air of a room through which her mother had

ly planned motor trip and week-end to La

join us

hank you

ght you and

her go with you

' invitation, politely uttered, had said so plainly

s Latz was in love and with all

catching about his treatment of he

not alone at the wonder of her,

told her once in Alma's hearing. "It seemed to me that after-my

me beads on a lamp-shade, Ca

good husband," she said, "and

tipto

home in the rose and mauve drawing-room. It delighted Louis and Carrie slyly to have in their friends for poker over the dining-room table these evenings, leaving the you

Leo, the wa

crimson and not arch enough to

but then closing her eyes as if to invok

ardor. A city youth with gymnasium bred shoulders, fine, pole vaulter's length

nice detail, could thrill to this sartorial svelteness and to the patent-

t slower beat to her may have heightened his sense of prowess. His greatest delight seemed to lie in her pallid loveliness. "White Honeysuckle," he called her and the names of all the beautif

eart. I won't be held off any longer. I'm going t

er seen her in the dishevelment from wh

gh of the conquering male in him to read eas

hs. I love you. You love me. You do. You do," and crushed her to him, but

r lips from twisting, her little lacy fribble

n't w

she could repeat an

't-I

s-ma

ha

I-she's a

e's got a brand-n

don't-un

ma-baby! That's it. My girlie is a cry-baby, mama-baby!" And made to sli

teadied him again. "I mustn't! You see, we're so close. Somet

made he

r able to take care of herself than you are. She's b

e time. Let

ove you. I love you and want so t

-d

l me with

essed him to

t. Let me think. Jus

no.

mor

he

eni

mor

Leo-tomorro

t every second in every minute

soft little fin

oy," sh

le swoon to his nearness she struggle

," she said, "l

t to hers. Good night, little White Flower. I'll be waiting, and remembe

d on the pink divan, her head with a listening look to it,

with such leverage that she landed out of bed plump on her two feet, Alma

n bathroom, the muddy circles suddenly out and angry beneath her eyes, h

le grave on the inside

ense of the miracle of what was happening

did no

ad, on a curative mission bent, were taking shape. There was a famous nerve specialist, the one who ha

was denied the sight of his wife, he had learned with a male's acquiescence to the fra

Carrie's zeal for his wellbeing. No duty too small. One night she wanted to unlace his shoes and even shine them, would h

drobe and kissing them piece by piece, put them back again a

him rather fiercely an entrance into his wife's room, he shoved her aside almost rudely, but at Carrie's little shriek of remonst

, as she knew an

peared at the dinner table, Alma, entering when the meal was almost over, se

that little unconscious usurpa

her?" he asked,

s asl

this month and each time it lasts

easie

d back h

and sit with her

ly dainty of manner, half

now!" And sat down again hurriedly

e pursing out like a little shelf and a hitherto unsuspec

irs, you, or get the hell out of here," he s

the almost unbearable

stn't talk lik

ke this tip, you! There's one of two things you better

e's s

keep us apart. I've watched you. I know your sneaking kind. Still water runs

-s

pare her, I'd have invited you out l

ed and could have crumpled up the

at's what you are! Trying to come between your mot

s-I d

the house any more and then you take out on us whatever is eating you, by t

to you that she's not suffering when she is. That's all, Louis. You see, she's not ashamed to suffer before me. Why, Louis-that's all. Why should I want to

sorry and did not insist furt

sting his spectacles, snapped open

the dreaded cravings grew, with each siege her mother becoming more

back in the hotel days, and embargo and legislation were daily mak

d suspected a chauffeur of collusion with her mo

Carrie's hearing, of course. "Wh

her side, Carrie laughed sardonically up into her daughter's f

uldn't you like t

he slapped her quite r

gifts of jewelry and finery to somehow express her grateful adoration of her; paying her husband the secret penance of twofold fidelity to his well-being and every whim, Alma, retur

rnoon, sunlit and

stayed, she forced herself down into a chair, strivin

bled in spite of itself, Alma telephoned the garage. Car and chauffeur were there. Incredible as it seemed, Alma, upon more than one occasion had lately been obliged to remind her mother that she was becoming careless

began a hurried search through her mother's d

rom the sheet with a hairpin, caught her eye from the top o

d Narcotic Clinic on the Bowery below Canal Street, provided t

subway at Canal Street and with three blocks

w her mother, in the sable coat and

thought better of it and by biting her lips and digging

quality of her attire down there where the bilge water

id a brief word to a truckman as he crossed the sidewalk

e of being followed, because constantly as she walked, she j

gging one-sidedly a stack of men's basted waistcoats, evidently for homework in some tenemen

er, greeting her without surpri

uld fool me! He

ht. Don't you remember, we had

said to him, 'Give you five dollars for a doctor's certificate.' That's all I said to him, or any of the

ne following. Wait,

ed to put me in a taxi

t quietly beside Alma in the subway,

rrie began

I've ruined her life. My precious sweetheart's life. I hit

ll, dear, i

all I said to him-give you five dollars for a doctor's certificate

lease, there's

ng-mama's ruined your life.

you if you'll come home with her, dea

see. Never this bad-

his bad. That's w

ver lived. Best

y walk if you drag her back so. There's no one following, dea

ollowing. He tried to

u to turn square around and look. No, look again. You see now, there's no one following. Now, I want you to cross the s

d enough so that through the enormous maze of the traffic of trucks and the

ng. "The worst I've ever been. Oh-Alma-

apparently on this conjuring of her husband, that

And darted back against the breas

tation of her arm around with the spoke o

cause out of all that jam of tonnage, she carr

hat Louis Latz in hi

to me. Two such women in one lifetime, as my little mother-and her. Fat little old Louis to have had those two. Why just the

ssed h

t her knowing it, her throat-tearing sobs broke lo

close. Very,

help you. Why, sweetheart. Shh-h-h, remember what Loui

'll always have it too-of her-my

the tight grip in his

t agai

way

e not ten minutes before, from the very lapel against whic

MASTER OF

NUEL

The

player would say tapping his fingers on the board-"That pawn may cost you yo

lled, was perfectly harmless; even though at times he would litter the streets a

he lives of the birds. In fact it seemed as though he himself became birdlike. He could flap his arms to his sides and pro

up among the horses and cows in the barns. But these larger an

ge folks suddenly noticed that he was lame. When asked ab

pping his arms in imitation of the birds encircling his head; how he sprang in the air in a mad attempt to fly, and fell to the ground. But Luba h

legraph pole sideways like a parrot walking up a stick. Once on top he would swing his good leg around

and round, child-like eyes kept him looking younger. Where he slept and where he ate, all

r of them carried large pink breasts; also at times there were few, while on other days the streets and marke

bout it he would show a silly grin and shy away, pretending to

ometimes travel along the back yards, twist his mouth and call to nobody in particular: "A few crumbs for the birdi

tured up the hill where the better people lived; and it

worldly material; as for himself, he was concerned only with the aerial strata and with the feathery creatures thereof. Nobody wanted it; so he acquired it as he ac

self over the village of M-- belonged to Silly Peter. It seemed as though he purposely limped l