The Debatable Land

tes in

rtnership, to be entitled 'The Helen Banking and Broker

understand," said M

ecision of phrase. "It is in terms of happiness. One pursues it-happiness. One sees fortunes in it

ume it. "In point of fact," she suggested a hoarded wealth, an unknown, mysterious sum in reserve, rather than

nderstand no

Street in their faces. The gutters were slushy running streams, the elms shook their branc

the Helen estate, which I believe, I trust

ink unc

sad limitation. Mrs. Mavering; somewhat elderly, too; and so, one who feels he must husband his slender resource

r, and they walked on a few momen

ourse; but you s

yalty perhaps a little too inflexible. Flexibility is, so to speak, to have a good portion of one's capi

edly-"I mean. I know him on

ince you that he is liabil

t convi

ntuition-might not the attempt, if made seriously, defeat its end by rousing tha

mi

gloved hand, and cane swi

he survival of the fittest.' It was explained to me, who am not profound, I confess. Dear me, no; nor a reader of new books. But I understood it to mean the survival of that which fits, the

Hel

e a certain Bourn was put to death in the sixteenth century for obdurate persistence in a proscribed opinion. Probably la

is Morg

s with other-pardon me-brutes. His father had a singular opinion of

mused a

ill you dine with

Charles Street, and parte

It might be his rapid and light manner was part of his wisdom and his theory, as if he had found it the part of wisdom not to look gravely and long at any phase of human life. Who knows what might be disclosed, for all depths are black and threatening. On

ey impressed a generation following with a hunted, persistent sense that in some manner a marble mantel, a plaster ornament on the ceiling, an ormolu clock, a flowered carpet, and china figurines with neat stockings,

rve her, and Mrs. Mavering in position to observe all. He drew his chair near Mrs. Mavering and smiled a wrinkled smile of

ristles will rise on his spine. My dear Mrs. Mavering, a

ut the primary won't do." He is savage and solitary, too direct, too elemental. He jumps to his aim. He does not care, so he gets it, what happens in between. He does not care for minor points. But civilization is a system of minor points. He has no sympathy, cannot move from his footing an inch to take another

emed an airy structure, built on a th

liked to look at her, no doubt; it seemed to justify itself; but more particularly because he had fancied of late that her face was a kind of magic mirror, such as enchanters used to raise upon

Helen's interpretations, however wide they might be from his own in point of verbal symbols and form of allegory, followed the mood with accurate detail. Only the mirror tended to add moral judgments, or

but something about devotion and the spirit of the nation shining like the sun on the faces of its soldiers. Mrs. Mavering, too, turned from Helen, and noticed how thickly Morgan's yellow eyebrows wer

murmured to he

flags seemed only like the surface ripple of a deep stream, so grave it was, so large and resolute, so brimm

rmured Thadde

pose it's half true." He appeared to be continuing the s

why

and stay with Helen till he came back? Morgan took his leave with conventional phrases. And the three having each taken himself and his egoism away, Helen

Mavering's feet, and said, "Uncle Ta

w that he could not attain them. But Thaddeus's airy structure, his theory of the primitive, did not follow necessarily. Yet she felt that a certain atmosphere of animosity surrounded Morgan; he

want to con

confessing,

out Mor

is-just Morgan,

dictionary, but the words

et," Helen laughed. "It begi

ng if it went

el, I don't think I

ked you to

not. But he said he w

How lon

don't r

id you thin

him to believe, and I suppose I wondered if he wouldn't forget about

don't tell me at all. Did

never asked m

love him

me to do th

If you don't love him and he expects you t

so smashed. Don't you know, it makes your bones sore, and gives you a headache. Besides, Morgan always does what he means to do, and he knows all sorts

't w

out,' or something, and what would I do then? Oh, yes, I'd say, 'Well, then, I won't marry you,' and he'd say, 'Much you know about it

wly, "that I do, either, but it looks as

him, except me; and if I did, don't you see, it w

t I'm still wondering if th

t so worth while, not so-around in the dark as Gard Windham, who says things out of the middle of himself without talking a

e w

colonel, or something. He wouldn't let me, but we'd wait till he was gone,

at least one more varied and peculiar, if not so poised and secure of himself; a strange man, restless and reckless. The two did not look alike; Jack was dark, long-jawed, and lean; but when she had noted Morgan knitting his yellow brows, and imagined there was an odd glint in his eyes, she had thought of one of Jack's moo

question of courage when she had first girded up her garments and followed where she was led. It had seemed inevitable. Jack's name was the whole dictionary, and there appeared to be no word entirely outside of it. And then the awakening; a series of chasms opening, the bright world breaking up, and

ugh of adventures. When I came ba

tell me?" said Hel

t least, his coming to seems so to me. I couldn't like things and people that were evil and coarse, or like being always dragged into the danger of some kind of disgrace. You can't, if you have been taught to be scrupulous. But he did not seem to see differences between good and bad, and refined and coarse, or else he thought them petty differences. He liked almost anything except being dull. We went from place to place, and across the sea and back again. He was restless-and reckless. I think he was too reckless of me. Once we had a house at New Orleans, where the planters used to come and play cards, and there were queer women with very dark eyes, and some of the planters were quite old men. But one night one of the women killed a planter with a knife, on the stairs. Then we got out of a window on a back roof, and through alleys to the levee, and went up the river in the morning on a steamer. I don't know what it was all about-quite. But there were things that happened which I minded more than that. I used to be so tired, so afraid. Then I grew to be afraid of Jack, because I couldn't understand

It was winter, and the snow was deep in the area. He dragged the man up the steps, held him by the collar against the railing, and brushed him and laughed. Then he took him away, holding him up

e might be something in it to tell you particularly, but I see there w

a past time, when everything was unsettled and everybody was adventurous. He calls Morgan Map a primary, or aboriginal. I suppose he would

, she felt as if a hand in the darkness had struck her, as if a vista had opened, a

od a moment in the doorway, an

"like Israel by the