The Rising Tide

ay, clean-shaven, square-jawed, honest-eyed, gave a sunshiny grin of general friendliness and said he hoped Mrs. Payton would forgiv

she had left it w

before, expressed flurried and embarrassed concern. She was so sorry! She couldn't imagine where

ut all these deep books Fred's so keen on. Something

of any such book," she said; then murmured, p

ly sorry,"-but he had to go. He went; a

g

uppose he

believe

p," said

he had caught on, the minute he got into that room, that i

, I'm afraid," Laura said,

et even old Weston's never read it! Neither have I. B

the book isn't so awfully deep. We

nd her pleasant brown eyes glanced with all the sweet, good-natured indifference of kindly youth at the three

ugar, Aun

er's, and kiss her aunt, and "hook" a sandwich from the tea-table. One had to smile at Laura; her mother smiled, even while s

e. Really, I think we'd better ride,"[Pg 21] she pleaded with the pretty c

ed, maliciously; but it was such pretty malice, and her face was so gayly amiable that her mother surrendered. "The only thing that reconciles me to Billy-boy's being too poor to gi

e longer, Ellen, and walk part way home with this child. She's a perfect tyrant," she added, with

me a week yet to work it out;"-then, in an aside: "Laura, I'm mortified that I should have asked Mr. Maitland the title of that book before you,"-Laura opened question

rd Maitland says he thinks she's simply great to[Pg 22] do i

in your own home, you will be just a

won't have so much fun. This idea of Fred's

it?" Mrs. Payton

broke it to

a?" Mrs. Childs asked

f them at this minute, the Misses Graham, cousins of mine in Grafton. They are going to spend the winter in town, and they want a furnished apartment. It must be near a drug-store and far enough from an Episcopal church to make a nice walk on Sundays-fair Sundays. And it must be on the stree

E EXP

FREDERICA'S MAN OF

HE PROJECT INTO WO

a piece of lemon, and seeing a chance to[Pg 23] "root," said, "How

ith a post-office address, but nothing short of a real office will satisfy her. She has her eye on one in the tenth story of the Sturtevant Buildin

ve forgotten which it was, and I said that as soon as I got time I must count them. (Of course, I have the servants' towels, too; five dozen and four, with red borders to distinguish them.) And Freddy was positively insulting! She said women whose minds had stopped growing had to count towels for mental exercise. When I was a girl, I should have offered to count the towels for my mother! As for her finding apart

rs. Childs said to tell Fred her uncle William would say it was perfect nonsense; and once Laura whispered to Mr. Weston th

car came clattering down the street, and after a while went clattering back; and still the three elders wrangled over the outlaw's project, and Laura, sitting on the arm of h

en't time to walk; we must take the car. Oh, Ellen, I meant to ask you: can't you

't possibly! I'm so bu

Nelly dear, I know it will be all right about Fr

g

rt her. When he, too, made his escape, he was profoundly fatigued. His plea that Frederica should be allowed to burn her fingers so that she might learn the meaning of fire had not produ

was bett

e, through a

than repose on a

ter, they would think differently. When she was reminded that she, too, had had different ideas from those

n anything more important than in little matters of dress

s hat and coat, he paused to draw a long breath and throw out his arms, as if he would stretch his cr

g

reet, for sheer relief of feeling the cool air against his face, instead of the warm stillness of Mrs. Payton's

-and from Andy's old stovepipe!" It occurred to him that the ideals set forth in Mrs. Payton's ceaseless conversation were of the same era as the hat. "But the hat would fit Fred best," he thought-"Hell

terrier was sprawling abjectly under the discipline of a friendly cuff on h

mud, and a lock of hair blown across her eyes. "He's a wret

r the world!" he protested, in al

back together toward Payton Street,

g

Aunt Bessie was to be asked to the funeral. I suppose she talked anti-suffrage, and quoted 'my William' every minute? Aunt Bessie ha

Fred, why can't you see

she see my

she t

eet lamp fell full on her face-a wolfish, unhumorous young face, pathetic with its hunger for life; he saw that her chin was twitching, and there was a wet gleam on one flus

aid, helplessly; "that's the be

aliciously; "well, you can't. I'm the Old Man of the Sea, and you'll have to c

] arm still in his, and her cheek, in her eagerness, almo

a man; I want

y, Fred. And besides,

achinery is the cuckoo that has pushed women out of the nest of domesticity. I made that up," she added, with frank vanity. "I haven't a blessed thing to do in my good home-I suppose you heard tha

ured vaguely that there were things a g

g lessons; I have about as much voice as a crow. My Suffrage League isn't work, it's fun. I might have tried nursing, but Grandmother had a fit; that 'warm heart' she's always handing out couldn't stand the idea of relieving male suffering. 'What!' she said, 'see a [Pg 29]gentleman entir

n. I hope you'll ma

e's a good sport. But she is narrow and coarse. 'See a gentleman in his bed!' And she thinks she's modest! But poor dear Mother simply died on the

e themselves ve

ave nothing against Mother on that lay. But you see, I've tried all the conventional th

e a question of

. She owes him-good Lord! how much she owes him! Apologies, to begin with. What right had she and 'old Andy Payton' to bring him into the world?[Pg 30] I should think they would have been ashamed of themselves. Fa

n the gate, paused in the rainy dusk and looked into Arthur Weston's face

r mother. Think of wha

d see me for fear he would come shuffling about." He saw her shoulders twitch with the horror of that shuffling. "It makes me tired, this rot about a child's gratitude and duty to a parent! It's the other way round, as I look at it; the parent o

in all the history of parenthood, had there been a time when children accused their fathers and mothers[Pg 31] of s

in the least. A puzzle of a thousand pieces

zzle in one p

ust nature. Mother is like a cat or a cow; they adore their offspring. And they have a perfect right to lick 'em all over, or anything else that expresses cat-love. But you don't say they are 'noble' when they lick 'em! And cows don't insist that other cows shall lick calves that are not theirs. Mortimore isn't mine. Yes; that's where Mother isn't as sensible as a cow. She can give herself up all she wants to, but she sha'n't give me up. I won't lick

cur to you that

"That's the worst of it. I am cruel. I say things-and then, afterward, I could kick myself. Yet they

where," he admonished

n't speak ou

, dryly; "that's bett

arm a squeeze. "I don't know how I'd get along without you," she told

ed his hand. "How young she is! Well, I'll put the