A Woman Named Smith

over, and decided to come here, and you were

ourse

bec

ause

racious you had a little s

cotes were to arrive that night, in time for dinner, and I, standing before the mirr

rom mine, it is applied morality. Why, Sophy, you're stun

k and found it good, "Now, Sophy Smith, you are no longer efficien

us difference, after all. Why, I-W

ender person with quantities of fair hair, a round white chin, and steady blue eyes. For the rest, she had a short nose

icia, "Ave, dear Lady of Hynds Hous

d a black skirt. This radiant rose-maiden-"little Dawn-rose," old Riedriech called her-was new to him; and so, I fancy, was a Miss Smith in such a fr

fine little bronze Osiris holding a whip in one hand and the ankh in the other. ("My dear, the moment I saw him, I knew I had once prayed to him!") and she always wore a scarab ring. She had bought both in an antique-shop just o

that he had hoped he had at last found a quiet haven, a place that fitted him like a glove; he protest

sba," Alicia told him, tartly. "You'd have been ideal companions, both

yes. Never, never, in all his pampe

m I to be flouted thus by a piece of pink-and-wh

hs of babes-" in

ned. And his gr

ty of the mutable many. I like Hynds House. And I like you two women. You are not tiresome to the ear, wearisome to the mind, nor displeasing to the eye. I am even sensible of a distinct fe

e reason tha

d, I knew this house, and you, and Sophy Smith, before you were born! I knew yo

ave people, the sort of people who are coming." She paused

ed with strangers. That's why, when I discover a place and people that suit

" Alicia reminded him soothingly. "Besides, I don't think they're the

e Author glumly. "But let 'em come

hing

thor. "I shall work all nigh

s one. (One owed that to one's self-respect.) Only Miss Emmeline paid more than passing attention to him, though h

ed inevitable when the two met. Mr. Westmacote listened with quiet enjoyment. His dinner was to his taste, Hynds House more than came up to his expectations, Alicia was Cinderella after the fairy's wand had pas

all: that our Chelsea figures were lovelier than any she had heretofore seen; and that Hynds House, in which everything was genuine, had an atmosphere that app

icia's pet album of Confed

gallant and romantic figures, when one looks at their old photographs here in Hynds House. I am

ething more in keeping with Hynds House," he said, and sauntered over

silent, s

t and mor

argaret's g

at Willi

as like an

a wint

old was he

her sabl

yes large with wonder and delight. The Confederate generals slid from Miss Emmeline's lap and lay face downward, forgotten. Westmacote's faded

u promise

that pro

wear mine eye

those ey

say my fac

that fac

ou win my v

that heart

hat sad, simple, and most beautiful old song. And he had set it to an air as simple and as

nt, "I knew you could tinkle out a tune on a piano, but, man, I didn'

ozen more surprises up his sleeve, if he chose

ded music. For which I praise him in t

st a look of deep disdain upon the blundering doctor. "Wh

and wondered what he was doing here in my house that might have been his hou

pairingly. Because a veil had been torn from my eyes this night, and I knew that the cruellest thing that can happen to

y else said pleasant things to him,

s, and he played for us-Hungarian things, I think. Then he drift

figures I have ever seen." I think she sighed as she said it

s had gone off together. The secretary had to finish a chapter. The Author lingered to

u interview J

und Hynds House here when he arrived and expected to leave it here when he departed. And Geddes knows

nik may have som

something for a whack at

im to let you

e Author, crossly,

nt came in from her room next to mine, sat down on the floor, and

of the evening. Both of us had deep cause for gr

he?" hesitated Alicia, after a long pause. She didn't lift

laced will have gone out of our lives when he goes away, and doesn't c

wonder! Somehow, I-Sophy, he belongs here.

asn't part nor place

either, Sophy," she insisted. "Why-

ust about

d this. She a

blundering doctor said about t

by The Author. But somehow I could not bear any cr

to appreciate

ir-minded not to."

-hu

anybody come between us. Not anybody. Not The Author-nor his secretary-nor whatever guests co

ed whisper. "We are more to each other than any of

k my dear girl what her incoherent words might mean. I

loping roofs and dormer windows, and two or three shallow steps going up here, and two or three more going down there, and passages and doors where you'd never look for them. We had never be

tstep sounded overhead in the attic, followed by a sort of stumble, as if

ought, once or twice, that I hear

sleeping Westmacotes, and Miss Emmeline Phelps-Parsons who so longed to come in closer contact w

ust as we approached it, and

, he stole up the cork-screw stairway at the end of the side

aces of stars. And it was so quiet you could hear your heart beat, and your breathing seemed to rattle in your ears. We strained our eyes, seeking to pierce the gloom, stealing forward step by step. A board creaked, n

was nothing there. Only, it seemed to me that something, incredibly swift and silent, flashed down one of the bewildering turns to which

every inch of wall and floor. Nothing. But on the

the inside, and there were one or two wooden boxes and a leather-covered trunk in the dormer recess. He sniffed hound-like

Alicia. "The cat! Sophy,

hor. And feeling rather s

here is nothing. Ther

Author whispered, and there was th

hment-like paper about the size of an ordinary playing-card, so frayed and creased that one had

k paw. I smelled it when I leaned over, and I thought

ng page is what Th

ly, and stood on one leg like a stork. "Was there a Hynds woman named Helen? 'Turn Hellen's Key

him keep it!"

ast pocket of my coat." As he spoke, he opened the cedar-lined closet, that was almost as big as a modern hall bedroom, and put the paper i

into that closet without first tackling me. Now you g

nd kimonoed, and that The Author himself resembled a step

ith the Westmacotes and Miss Emmeline. For once he failed to do justice to Mary Magdalen's hot biscuit, and ignored Fernolia's astonished and concerne

t. Since I came here, I have learned to walk in my sleep." And seeing my look of astonishment, "I walked in my sleep last n

where did you pu

's what I want to know, myself. I've looked everywhere in my room, and in Johnson's, and I c

ds's old diary in my hands, between the two pages following the last entry had been a creased and soiled piece of paper. I had seen it out of the tail of my eye, as the saying is. It was only a glimpse, but one