Susan Warner Nobody Of 2 
 
 
 Chapter 28 (The Lagoon Of Venice) Pg 1 
 Towards Evening, One Day Late In the   Summer, The   Sun Was Shining, As 
 Its Manner Is, On That Marvellous Combination Of   Domes, Arches, Mosaics 
 And Carvings Which Goes By The   Name Of   St. Mark'S At Venice. The   Soft 
 Italian Sky, Glowing and Rich, Gave A Very Benediction Of   Colour; All 
 Around Was The   Still Peace Of   The   Lagoon City; Only In the   Great Square 
 There Was A Gentle Stir And Flutter And Rustle And Movement; For 
 Thousands Of   Doves Were Flying about, And Coming down To Be Fed, And A 
 Crowd Of   Varied human Nature, But Chiefly Not Belonging to The   Place, 
 Were Watching and Distributing food To The   Feathered multitude. People 
 Were Engaged with The   Doves, Or With Each Other; Few Had A Look To 
 Spare For The   Great Church; Nobody Even Glanced at The   Columns Bearing 
 St. Theodore And The   Lion. 
   
   
   
 That Is, Speaking generally. For Under One Of   The   Arcades, Leaning 
 Against One Of   The   Great Pillars Of   The   Same, A Man Stood Whose Look By 
 Turns Went To Everything. He Had Been Standing there Motionless For 
 Half An Hour; And It Passed to Him Like A Minute. Sometimes He Studied 
 That Combination Aforesaid, Where Feeling and Fancy And Faith Have Made 
 Such Glorious Work Together; And To Which, As I Hinted, The   Venetian 
 Evening was Lending such Indescribable Magnificence. His Eye Dwelt On 
 Details Of   Loveliness, Of   Which It Was Constantly Discovering new 
 Revelations; Or Rested on The   Whole Colour-Glorified pile With 
 Meditative Remembrance Of   What It Had Seen And Done, And Whence It Had 
 Come. Then With Sudden Transition He Would Give His Attention To The 
 Motley Crowd Before Him, And The   Soft-Winged doves Fluttering up And 
 Down And Filling the   Air. And, Tiring of   These, His Look Would Go Off 
 Again To The   Bronze Lion On His Place Of   Honour In the   Piazzetta, His 
 Thought Probably Wandering back To The   Time When He Was Set There. The 
 Man Himself Was Noticed by Nobody. He Stood In the   Shade Of   The   Pillar 
 And Did Not Stir. He Was A Gentleman Evidently; One Sees That By Slight 
 Characteristics, Which Are Nevertheless Quite Unmistakeable And Not To 
 Be Counterfeited. His Dress Of   Course Was The   Quiet, Unobtrusive, And 
 Yet Perfectly Correct Thing, Which Dress Ought To Be. His Attitude Was 
 That Of   A Man Who Knew Both How To Move And How To Be Still, And Did 
 Both Easily; And Further, The   Look Of   Him Betrayed the   Habit Of   Travel. 
 This Man Had Seen So Much That He Was Not Moved by Any Young Curiosity; 
 Knew So Much, That He Could Weigh And Compare What He Knew. His Figure 
 Was Very Good; His Face Agreeable And Intelligent, With Good Observant 
 
 
 
 Chapter 28 (The Lagoon Of Venice) Pg 2 
 Grey Eyes; The   Whole Appearance Striking. But Nobody Noted him. 
   
   
   
 And He Had Noted nobody; The   Crowd Before Him Was To Him Simply A 
 Crowd, Which Excited no Interest Except As A Whole. Until, Suddenly, He 
 Caught Sight Of   A Head And Shoulders In the   Moving throng, Which 
 Started him Out Of   His Carelessness. They Were But A Few Yards From 
 Him, Seen And Lost Again In the   Swaying mass Of   Human Beings; But 
 Though Half Seen He Was Sure He Could Not Mistake. He Spoke Out A 
 Little Loud The   Word "Tom!" 
   
   
   
 He Was Not Heard, And The   Person Spoken To Moved out Of   Sight Again. 
 The Speaker, However, Now Left His Place And Plunged among The   People. 
 Presently He Had Another Glimpse Of   The   Head And Shoulders, And Was Yet 
 More Sure Of   His Man; Lost Sight Of   Him Anew, But, Following in the 
 Direction Taken By The   Chase, Gradually Won His Way Nearer, And At 
 Length Overtook The   Man, Who Was Then Standing between The   Pillars Of 
 The Lion And St. Theodore, And Looking out Towards The   Water. 
   
   
   
 "Tom!" Said His Pursuer, Clapping him On The   Shoulder. 
   
   
   
 "Philip Dillwyn!" Said The   Other, Turning. "Philip! Where Did You Come 
 From? What A Lucky Turn-Up! That I Should Find You Here!" 
   
   
   
 "I Found You, Man. Where Have _You_ Come From?" 
   
   
   
 "O, From Everywhere." 
   
   
   
 "Are You Alone? Where Are Your People?" 
   
   
   
 "O, Julia And Lenox Are Gone Home. Mamma And I Are Here Yet. I Left 
 Mamma In a _Pension_ In switzerland, Where I Could Not Hold It Out Any 
 Longer; And I Have Been Wandering about--Florence, And Pisa, And I 
 Don'T Know All--Till Now I Have Brought Up In venice. It Is So Jolly To 
 Get You!" 
   
   
   
 "What Are You Doing here?" 
   
   
   
 "Nothing." 
   
   
   
 "What Are You Going to Do?" 
   
   
   
 "Nothing. O, I Have Done Everything, You Know. There Is Nothing left To 
 A Fellow." 
   
   
   
 "That Sounds Hopeless," Said Dillwyn, Laughing. 
 
 
 
 Chapter 28 (The Lagoon Of Venice) Pg 3 
   
 "It Is Hopeless. Really I Don'T See, Sometimes, What A Fellow'S Life Is 
 Good For. I Believe The   People Who Have To Work For It, Have After All 
 The Best Time!" 
   
   
   
 "They Work To Live," Said The   Other. 
   
   
   
 "I Suppose They Do." 
   
   
   
 "Therefore You Are Going round In a Circle. If Life Is Worth Nothing, 
 Why Should One Work To Keep It Up?" 
   
   
   
 "Well, What Is It Worth, Dillwyn? Upon My Word, I Have Never Made It 
 Out Satisfactorily." 
   
   
   
 "Look Here--We Cannot Talk In this Place. Have You Ever Been To 
 Torcello?" 
   
   
   
 "No." 
   
   
   
 "Suppose We Take A Gondola And Go?" 
   
   
   
 "Now? What Is There?" 
   
   
   
 "An Old Church." 
   
   
   
 "There Are Old Churches All Over. The   Thing is To Find A New One." 
   
   
   
 "You Prefer The   New Ones?" 
   
   
   
 "Just For The   Rarity," Said Tom, Smiling. 
   
   
   
 "I Do Not Believe You Have Studied the   Old Ones Yet. Do You Know The 
 Mosaics In st. Mark'S?" 
   
   
   
 "I Never Study Mosaics." 
   
   
   
 "And I'Ll Wager You Have Not Seen The   Tintorets In the   Palace Of   The 
 Doges?" 
 
 
 
 Chapter 28 (The Lagoon Of Venice) Pg 4 
   
 "There Are Tintorets All Over!" Said Tom, Shrugging his Shoulders 
 Wearily. 
   
   
   
 "Then Have You Seen Murano?" 
   
   
   
 "The Glass-Works, Yes." 
   
   
   
 "I Do Not Mean The   Glass-Works. Come Along--Anywhere In a Gondola Will 
 Do, Such An Evening as This; And We Can Talk Comfortably. You Need not 
 Look At Anything." 
   
   
   
 They Entered a Gondola, And Were Presently Gliding smoothly Over The 
 Coloured waters Of   The   Lagoon; Shining with Richer Sky Reflections Than 
 Any Mortal Painter Could Put On Canvas. Not Long In silence. 
   
   
   
 "Where Have You Been, Tom, All This While?" 
   
   
   
 "I Told You, Everywhere!" Said Tom, With Another Shrug Of   His 
 Shoulders. "The One Thing one Comes Abroad For, You Know, Is To Run 
 Away From The   Winter; So We Have Been Doing that, As Long As There Was 
 Any Winter To Run From, And Since Then We Have Been Running away From 
 The Summer. Let Me See--We Came Over In november, Didn'T We? Or 
 December; We Went To Rome As Fast As We Could. There Was Very Good 
 Society In rome Last Winter. Then, As Spring came On, We Coasted down 
 To Naples And Palermo. We Staid At Palermo A While. From There We Went 
 Back To England; And From England We Came To Switzerland. And There We 
 Have Been Till I Couldn'T Stand Switzerland Any Longer; And I Bolted." 
   
   
   
 "Palermo Isn'T A Bad Place To Spend A While In." 
   
   
   
 "No;--But Sicily Is Stupid Generally. It'S All Ridiculous, Philip. 
 Except For The   Name Of   The   Thing, One Can Get Just As Good Nearer Home. 
 I Could Get _Better_ Sport At Appledore Last Summer, Than In any Place 
 I'Ve Been At In europe." 
   
   
   
 "Ah! Appledore," Said Philip Slowly, And Dipping his Hand In the   Water. 
 "I Surmise The   Society Also Was Good There?" 
   
   
   
 "Would Have Been," Tom Returned discontentedly, "If There Had Not Been 
 A Little Too Much Of   It." 
   
   
   
 "Too Much Of   It!" 
   
   
   
 "Yes. I Couldn'T Stir Without Two Or Three At My Heels. It'S Very Kind, 
 
 
 
 Chapter 28 (The Lagoon Of Venice) Pg 5 
 You Know; But It Rather Hampers A Fellow." 
   
   
   
 "Miss Lothrop Was There, Wasn'T She?" 
   
   
   
 "Of Course She Was! That Made All The   Trouble." 
   
   
   
 "And All The   Sport Too; Hey, Tom? Things Usually Are Two-Sided in this 
 World." 
   
   
   
 "She Made No Trouble. It Was My Mother And Sister. They Were So Awfully 
 Afraid Of   Her. And They Drilled george In; So Among Them They Were Too 
 Many For Me. But I Think Appledore Is The   Nicest Place I Know." 
   
   
   
 "You Might Buy One Of   The   Islands--A Little Money Would Do It--Build A 
 Lodge, And Have Your Europe Always At Hand; When The   Winter Is Gone, As 
 You Say. Even The   Winter You Might Manage To Live Through, If You Could 
 Secure The   Right Sort Of   Society. Hey, Tom? Isn'T That An Idea? I 
 Wonder It Never Occurred to You. I Think One Might Bid Defiance To The 
 World, If One Were Settled at The   Isles Of   Shoals." 
   
   
   
 "Yes," Said Tom, With Something very Like A Groan. "If One Hadn'T A 
 Mother And Sister." 
   
   
   
 "You Are Heathenish!" 
   
   
   
 "I'M Not, At All!" Returned tom Passionately. "See Here, Philip. There 
 Is One Thing goes Before Mother And Sister; And That You Know. It'S A 
 Man'S Wife. And I'Ve Seen My Wife, And I Can'T Get Her." 
   
   
   
 "Why?" Said Dillwyri Dryly. He Was Hanging over The   Side Of   The 
 Gondola, And Looking attentively At The   Play Of   Colour In the   Water; 
 Which Reflecting the   Sky In still Splendour Where It Lay Quiet, Broke 
 Up In ripples Under The   Gondolier'S Oar, And Seemed to Scatter Diamonds 
 And Amethysts And Topazes In fairy-Like Prodigality All Around. 
   
   
   
 "I'Ve Told You!" Said Tom Fretfully. 
   
   
   
 "Yes, But I Do Not Comprehend. Does Not The   Lady In question Like 
 Appledore As Well As You Do?" 
   
   
   
 "She Likes Appledore Well Enough. I Do Not Know How Well She Likes Me. 
 I Never Had A Chance To Find Out. I Don'T Think She _Dis_Likes Me, 
 Though," Said Tom Meditatively. 
   
   
   
 "It Is Not Too Late To Find Out Yet," Philip Said, With Even More 
 
 
 
 Chapter 28 (The Lagoon Of Venice) Pg 6 
 Dryness In his Tone. 
   
   
   
 "O, Isn'T It, Though!" Said Tom. "I'M Tied up From Ever Asking her Now. 
 I'M Engaged to Another Woman." 
   
   
   
 "Tom!" Said The   Other, Suddenly Straightening himself Up. 
   
   
   
 "Don'T Shout At A Fellow! What Could I Do? They Wouldn'T Let Me Have 
 What I Wanted; And Now They'Re Quite Pleased, And Julia Has Gone Home. 
 She Has Done Her Work. O, I Am Making an Excellent Match. 'An Old 
 Family, And Three Hundred thousand Dollars,' As My Mother Says. That'S 
 All One Wants, You Know." 
   
   
   
 "Who Is The   Lady?" 
   
   
   
 "It Don'T Matter, You Know, When You Have Heard Her Qualifications. 
 It'S Miss Dulcimer--One Of   The   Philadelphia Dulcimers. Of   Course One 
 Couldn'T Make A Better Bargain For Oneself. And I'M As Fond Of   Her As I 
 Can Be; In fact, I Was Afraid I Was Getting _Too_ Fond. So I Ran Away, 
 As I Told You, To Think Over My Happiness At Leisure, And Moderate My 
 Feelings." 
   
   
   
 "Tom, Tom, I Never Heard You Bitter Before," Said His Friend, Regarding 
 Him With Real Concern. 
   
   
   
 "Because I Never _Was_ Bitter Before. O, I Shall Be All Right Now. I 
 Haven'T Had A Soul On Whom I Could Pour Out My Mind, Till This Hour. I 
 Know You'Re As Safe As A Mine. It Does Me Good To Talk To You. I Tell 
 You, I Shall Be All Right. I'M A Very Happy Bridegroom Expectant. You 
 Know, If The   Caruthers Have Plenty Of   Money, The   Dulcimers Have Twice 
 As Much. Money'S Really Everything." 
   
   
   
 "Have You Any Idea How This News Will Touch Miss--The Other Lady You 
 Were Talking about?" 
   
   
   
 "I Suppose It Won'T Touch Her At All. She'S Different; That'S One 
 Reason Why I Liked her. She Would Not Care A Farthing for Me Because 
 I'M A Caruthers, Or Because I Have Money; Not A Brass Farthing! She Is 
 The _Real_Est Person I Ever Saw. She Would Go About Appledore From 
 Morning to Night In the   Greatest State Of   Delight You Ever Saw Anybody; 
 Where My Sister, For Instance, Would See Nothing but Rocks And Weeds, 
 Lois Would Have Her Hands Full Of   What Julia Would Call Trash, And What 
 To Her Was Better Than If The   Fairies Had Done It. Things Pulled out Of 
 The Shingle And Mud,--I Can Just See Her,--And Flowers, And Stones, And 
 Shells. What She Would Make Of   _This_ Now!--But You Couldn'T Set That 
 Girl Down Anywhere, I Believe, That She Wouldn'T Find Something to Make 
 Her Feel Rich. She'S A Richer Woman This Minute, Than My Dulcimer With 
 Her Thousands. And She'S Got Good Blood In her Too, Philip. I Learned 
 That From Mrs. Wishart. She Has The   Blood Of   Ever So Many Of   The   Old 
 Pilgrims In her Veins; And That Is Good Descent, Philip?" 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 28 (The Lagoon Of Venice) Pg 7 
 "They Think So In new England." 
   
   
   
 "Well, They Are Right, I Am Ready To Believe. Anyhow, I Don'T Care--" 
   
   
   
 He Broke Off, And There Was A Silence Of   Some Minutes' Length. The 
 Gondola Swam Along Over The   Quiet Water, Under The   Magnificent Sky; The 
 Reflected colours Glanced upon Two Faces, Grave And Self-Absorbed. 
   
   
   
 "Old Boy," Said Philip At Length, "I Hardly Think You Are Right." 
   
   
   
 "Right In what? I Am Right In all I Have Told You." 
   
   
   
 "I Meant, Right In your Proposed plan Of   Action. You May Say It Is None 
 Of My Business." 
   
   
   
 "I Shall Not Say It, Though. What'S The   Wrong You Mean?" 
   
   
   
 "It Seems To Me Miss Dulcimer Would Not Feel Obliged to You, If She 
 Knew All." 
   
   
   
 "She Doesn'T Feel Obliged to Me At All," Said Tom. "She Gives A Good As 
 She Gets." 
   
   
   
 "No Better?" 
   
   
   
 "What Do You Mean?" 
   
   
   
 "Pardon Me, Tom; But You Have Been Frank With Me. By Your Own Account, 
 She Will Get Very Little." 
   
   
   
 "All She Wants. I'Ll Give Her A Local Habitation And A Name." 
   
   
   
 "I Am Sure You Are Unjust." 
   
   
   
 "Not At All. That Is All Half The   Girls Want; All They Try For. She'S 
 Very Content. O, I'M Very Good To Her When We Are Together; And I Mean 
 To Be. You Needn'T Look At Me," Said Tom, Trying to Laugh. 
 "Three-Quarters Of   All The   Marriages That Are Made Are On The   Same 
 Pattern. Why, Phil, What Do The   Men And Women Of   This World Live For? 
 What'S The   Purpose In all I'Ve Been Doing since I Left College? What'S 
 The Good Of   Floating round In the   World As I Have Been Doing all Summer 
 And Winter Here This Year? And At Home It Is Different Only In the 
 Manner Of   It. People Live For Nothing, And Don'T Enjoy Life. I Don'T 
 
 
 
 Chapter 28 (The Lagoon Of Venice) Pg 8 
 Know At This Minute A Single Man Or Woman, Of   Our Sort, You Know, That 
 Enjoys Life; Except That One. And _She_ Isn'T Our Sort. She Has No 
 Money, And No Society, And No Europe To Wander Round In! O, They Would 
 _Say_ They Enjoy Life; But Their Way Shows They Don'T." 
   
   
   
 "Enjoyment Is Not The   First Thing," Philip Said Thoughtfully. 
   
   
   
 "O, Isn'T It! It'S What We'Re All After, Anyhow; You'Ll Allow That." 
   
   
   
 "Perhaps That Is The   Way We Miss It." 
   
   
   
 "So Dulcimer And I Are All Right, You See," Pursued tom, Without 
 Heeding this Remark. "We Shall Be A Very Happy Couple. All The   World 
 Will Have Us At Their Houses, And We Shall Have All The   World At Ours. 
 There Won'T Be Room Left For Any Thing but Happiness; And That'Ll 
 Squeeze In anywhere, You Know. It'S Like Chips Floating round On The 
 Surface Of   A Whirlpool--They Fly Round And Round Splendidly--Till They 
 Get Sucked in." 
   
   
   
 "Tom!" Cried his Companion. "What Has Come To You? Your Life Is Not So 
 Different Now From What It Has Always Been;--And I Have Always Known 
 You For A Light-Hearted fellow. I Can'T Have You Take This Tone." 
   
   
   
 Tom Was Silent, Biting the   Ends Of   His Moustache In a Nervous Way, 
 Which Bespoke A Good Deal Of   Mental Excitement; Philip Feared, Of 
 Mental Trouble. 
   
   
   
 "If A Friend May Ask, How Came You To Do What Is So Unsatisfactory To 
 You?" He Said At Length. 
   
   
   
 "My Mother And Sister! They Were So Preciously Afraid I Should Ruin 
 Myself. Philip, I _Could Not_ Make Head Against Them. They Were Too 
 Much For Me, And Too Many For Me; They Were All Round Me; They Were 
 Ahead Of   Me; I Had No Chance At All. So I Gave Up In despair. Women Are 
 The Overpowering when They Take A Thing in their Head! A Man'S Nowhere. 
 I Gave In, And Gave Up, And Came Away, And Now--They'Re Satisfied." 
   
   
   
 "Then The   Affair Is Definitely Concluded?" 
   
   
   
 "As Definitely As If My Head Was Off." 
   
   
   
 Philip Did Not Laugh, And There Was A Pause Again. The   Colours Were 
 Fading from Sky And Water, And A Yellow, Soft Moonlight Began To Assert 
 Her Turn. It Was A Change Of   Beauty For Beauty; But Neither Of   The   Two 
 Young Men Seemed to Take Notice Of   It. 
   
   
   
 "Tom," Began The   Other After A Time, "What You Say About The   Way Most 
 
 
 
 Chapter 28 (The Lagoon Of Venice) Pg 9 
 Of Us Live, Is More Or Less True; And It Ought Not To Be True." 
   
   
   
 "Of Course It Is True!" Said Tom. 
   
   
   
 "But It Ought Not To Be True." 
   
   
   
 "What Are You Going to Do About It? One Must Do As Everybody Else Does; 
 I Suppose." 
   
   
   
 "_Must_ One? That Is The   Very Question." 
   
   
   
 "What Can You Do Else, As Long As You Haven'T Your Bread To Get?" 
   
   
   
 "I Believe The   People Who _Have_ Their Bread To Get Have The   Best Of 
 It. But There Must Be Some Use In the   World, I Suppose, For Those Who 
 Are Under No Such Necessity. Did You Ever Hear That Miss--Lothrop'S 
 Family Were Strictly Religious?" 
   
   
   
 "No--Yes, I Have," Said Tom. "I Know _She_ Is." 
   
   
   
 "That Would Not Have Suited you." 
   
   
   
 "Yes, It Would. Anything she Did Would Have Suited me. I Have A Great 
 Respect For Religion, Philip." 
   
   
   
 "What Do You Mean By Religion?" 
   
   
   
 "I Don'T Know--What Everybody Means By It. It Is The   Care Of   The 
 Spiritual Part Of   Our Nature, I Suppose." 
   
   
   
 "And How Does That Care Work?" 
   
   
   
 "I Don'T Know," Said Tom. "It Works Altar-Cloths; And It Seems To Mean 
 Church-Going, And Choral Music, And Teaching ragged schools; And That 
 Sort Of   Thing. I Don'T Understand It; But I Should Never Interfere With 
 It. It Seems To Suit The   Women Particularly." 
   
   
   
 Again There Fell A Pause. 
   
   
   
 "Where Have _You_ Been, Dillwyn? And What Brought You Here Again?" Tom 
 Began Now. 
 
 
 
 Chapter 28 (The Lagoon Of Venice) Pg 10 
   
 "I Came To Pass The   Time," The   Other Said Musingly. 
   
   
   
 "Ah! And Where Have You Passed it?" 
   
   
   
 "Along The   Shores Of   The   Adriatic, Part Of   The   Time. At Abazzia, And 
 Sebenico, And The   Islands." 
   
   
   
 "What'S In all That? I Never Heard Of   Abazzia." 
   
   
   
 "The World Is A Large Place," Said Philip Absently. 
   
   
   
 "But What Is Abazzia?" 
   
   
   
 "A Little Paradise Of   A Place, So Sheltered that It Is Like A Nest Of 
 All Lovely Things. Really; It Has Its Own Climate, Through Certain 
 Favouring circumstances; And It Is A Hidden Little Nook Of   Delight." 
   
   
   
 "Ah!--What Took You To The   Shores Of   The   Adriatic, Anyhow?" 
   
   
   
 "Full Of   Interest," Said Philip. 
   
   
   
 "Pray, Of   What Kind?" 
   
   
   
 "Every Kind. Historical, Industrial, Mechanical, Natural, And Artistic. 
 But I Grant You, Tom, That Was Not Why I Went There. I Went There To 
 Get Out Of   The   Ruts Of   Travel And Break New Ground. Like You, Being a 
 Little Tired of   Going round In a Circle For Ever. And It Occurs To Me 
 That Man Must Have Been Made For Somewhat Else Than Such A Purposeless 
 Circle. No Other Creature Is A Burden To Himself." 
   
   
   
 "Because No Other Creature Thinks," Said Tom. 
   
   
   
 "The Power Of   Thought Can Surely Be No Final Disadvantage." 
   
   
   
 "I Don'T See What It Amounts To," Tom Returned. "A Man Is Happy Enough, 
 I Suppose, As Long As He Is Busy Thinking out Some New 
 Thing--Inventing, Creating, Discovering, Or Working out His 
 Discoveries; But As Soon As He Has Brought His Invention To Perfection 
 And Set It Going, He Is Tired of   It, And Drives After Something else." 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 28 (The Lagoon Of Venice) Pg 11 
 "You Are Coming to Solomon'S Judgment," Said The   Other, Leaning back 
 Upon The   Cushions And Clasping his Hands Above His Head,--"What The 
 Preacher Says--'Vanity Of   Vanities, All Is Vanity.'" 
   
   
   
 "Well, So Are You," Said Tom. 
   
   
   
 "It Makes Me Ashamed." 
   
   
   
 "Of What?" 
   
   
   
 "Myself." 
   
   
   
 "Why?" 
   
   
   
 "That I Should Have Lived to Be Thirty-Two Years Old, And Never Have 
 Done Anything, Or Found Any Way To Be Of   Any Good In the   World! There 
 Isn'T A Butterfly Of   Less Use Than I!" 
   
   
   
 "You Weren'T Made To Be Of   Use," Said Tom. 
   
   
   
 "Upon My Word, My Dear Fellow, You Have Said The   Most Disparaging 
 Thing, I Hope, That Ever Was Said Of   Me! You Cannot Better That 
 Statement, If You Think An Hour! You Mean It Of   Me As A Human Being, I 
 Trust? Not As An Individual? In the   One Case It Would Be Indeed 
 Melancholy, But In the   Other It Would Be Humiliating. You Take The 
 Race, Not The   Personal View. The   Practical View Is, That What Is Of   No 
 Use Had Better Not Be In existence. Look Here--Here We Are At Murano; I 
 Had Not Noticed it. Shall We Land, And See Things By Moonlight? Or Go 
 Back To Venice?" 
   
   
   
 "Back, And Have Dinner," Said Tom. 
   
   
   
 "By Way Of   Prolonging this Existence, Which To You Is Burdensome And To 
 Me Is Unsatisfactory. Where Is The   Logic Of   That?" 
   
   
   
 But They Went Back, And Had A Very Good Dinner Too. 
   
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 29 (An Ox Cart) Pg 12 
 It Happened not Far From This Same Time In the   End Of   August, When Mr. 
 Dillwyn And Tom Caruthers Came Together On The   Piazzetta Of   St. Mark, 
 That Another Meeting took Place In the   Far-Away Regions Of   Shampuashuh. 
 A Train Going to Boston Was Stopped by A Broken Bridge Ahead, And Its 
 Passengers Discharged in one Of   The   Small Towns Along The   Coast, To 
 Wait Until The   Means Of   Getting over The   Little River Could Be 
 Arranged. People On A Railway Journey Commonly Do Not Like To Wait; It 
 Was Different No Doubt In the   Days Of   Stage-Coaches, When Patience Had 
 Some Exercise Frequently; Now, We Are Spoiled, And You May Notice That 
 Ten Minutes' Delay Is Often More Than Can Be Endured with Complacency. 
 Our Fathers And Mothers Had Hours To Wait, And Took It As A Matter Of 
 Course. 
   
   
   
 Among The   Impatient Passengers Thrown Out At Independence Were Two 
 Specially Impatient. 
   
   
   
 "What On Earth Shall We Do With Ourselves?" Said The   Lady. 
   
   
   
 "Pity The   Break-Down Had Not Occurred a Little Further On," Said The 
 Gentleman. "You Might Have Visited your Friend--Or Tom'S Friend--Miss 
 Lothrop. We Are Just A Few Miles From Shampuashuh." 
   
   
   
 "Shampuashuh!--Miss Lothrop!--Was That Where She Lived? How Far, 
 George?" 
   
   
   
 "A Few Miles--Half A Dozen, Perhaps." 
   
   
   
 "O George, Let Us Get Horses And Drive There!" 
   
   
   
 "But Then You May Not Catch The   Train This Evening again." 
   
   
   
 "I Don'T Care. I Cannot Wait _Here_. It Would Be A Great Deal Better To 
 Have The   Drive And See The   Other Place. Yes, We Will Go And Visit Her. 
 Get Horses, George, Please! Quick. _This_ Is Terrible." 
   
   
   
 "Will You Ask For Their Hospitality?" 
   
   
   
 "Yes, Of   Course. They Would Be Delighted. That Is Just What The   Better 
 Sort Of   Country People Like, To Have Somebody Come And See Them. Make 
 Haste, George." 
 
 
 
 Chapter 29 (An Ox Cart) Pg 13 
 With A Queer Little Smile On His Face, Mr. Lenox However Did As He Was 
 Desired. A Waggon Was Procured without Very Much Delay, In which They 
 Could Be Driven To Shampuashuh. 
   
   
   
 It Was A Very Warm Day, And The   Travellers Had Just The   Height Of   It. 
 Hot Sunbeams Poured down Upon Them; The   Level, Shadeless Country 
 Through Which Lay Their Way, Showed as Little As It Could Of   The 
 Attractive Features Which Really Belonged to It. The   Lady Declared 
 Herself Exceeded by The   Heat And Dust; The   Gentleman Opined they Might 
 As Well Have Stayed in independence, Where They Were. Between Two And 
 Three O'Clock They Entered the   Long Green Street Of   Shampuashuh. The 
 Sunbeams Seemed tempered there, But It Was Only A Mental Effect 
 Produced by The   Quiet Beauty And Airy Space Of   The   Village Avenue, And 
 The Shade Of   Great Elms Which Fell So Frequently Upon The   Wayside Grass. 
   
   
   
 "What A Sweet Place!" Cried the   Lady. 
   
   
   
 "Comfortable-Looking houses," Suggested the   Gentleman. 
   
   
   
 "It Seems Cooler Here," The   Lady Went On. 
   
   
   
 "It Is Getting to A Cooler Time Of   Day." 
   
   
   
 "Why, No, George! Three O'Clock Is Just The   Crown Of   The   Heat. Don'T It 
 Look As If Nobody Ever Did Anything here? There'S No Stir At All." 
   
   
   
 "My Eyes See Different Tokens; They Are More Versed in business Than 
 Yours Are--Naturally." 
   
   
   
 "What Do Your Eyes See?"--A Little Impatiently. 
   
   
   
 "You May Notice That Nothing is Out Of   Order. There Is No Bit Of   Fence 
 Out Of   Repair; And Never A Gate Hanging upon Its Hinges. There Is No 
 Carelessness. Do You Observe The   Neatness Of   This Broad Street?" 
   
   
   
 "What Should Make It Unneat? With So Few Travellers?" 
   
   
   
 "Ground Is The   Last Thing to Keep Itself In order. I Notice, Too, The 
 Neat Stacks Of   Wood In the   Wood-Sheds. And In the   Fields We Have 
 Passed, The   Work Is All Done, Up To The   Minute; Nothing hanging by The 
 Eyelids. The   Houses Are Full Of   Windows, And All Of   Them Shining 
 Bright." 
   
   
   
 "You Might Be A Newspaper Reporter, George! Is This The   House We Are 
 Coming to? It Is Quite A Large House; Quite Respectable." 
 
 
 
 Chapter 29 (An Ox Cart) Pg 14 
   
   
   
 "Did You Think That Little Girl Had Come Out Of   Any But A Respectable 
 House?" 
   
   
   
 "Pshaw, George! You Know What I Mean. They Are Very Poor And Very Plain 
 People. I Suppose We Might Go Straight In?" 
   
   
   
 They Dismissed their Vehicle, So Burning their Ships, And Knocked at 
 The Front Door. A Moment After It Was Opened by Charity. Her Tall 
 Figure Was Arrayed in a Homely Print Gown, Of   No Particular Fashion; A 
 Little Shawl Was Over Her Shoulders, Notwithstanding the   Heat, And On 
 Her Head A Sun-Bonnet. 
   
   
   
 "Does Miss Lothrop Live Here?" 
   
   
   
 "Three Of   Us," Said Charity, Confronting the   Pair With A Doubtful Face. 
   
   
   
 "Is Miss Lois At Home?" 
   
   
   
 "She'S As Near As Possible Not," Said The   Door-Keeper; "But I Guess She 
 Is. You May Come In, And I'Ll See." 
   
   
   
 She Opened a Door In the   Hall Which Led to A Room On The   North Side Of 
 It, Corresponding to Mrs. Barclay'S On The   South; And There She Left 
 Them. It Was Large And Pleasant And Cool, If It Was Also Very Plain; 
 And Mrs. Lenox Sank Into A Rocking-Chair, Repeating to Herself That It 
 Was 'Very Respectable.' On A Table At One Side Lay A Few Books, Which 
 Drew Mr. Lenox'S Curiosity. 
   
   
   
 "Ruskin'S 'Modern Painters'!" He Exclaimed, Looking at His Wife. 
   
   
   
 "Selections, I Suppose." 
   
   
   
 "No, This Is Vol. 5. And The   Next Is Thiers' 'Consulate And Empire'!" 
   
   
   
 "Translation." 
   
   
   
 "No. Original. And 'The Old Red sandstone.'" 
   
   
   
 "What'S That?" 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 29 (An Ox Cart) Pg 15 
 "Hugh Miller." 
   
   
   
 "Who'S Hugh Miller?" 
   
   
   
 "He Is, Or Was, A Gentleman Whom You Would Not Admit To Your Society. 
 He Began Life As A Scotch Mason." 
   
   
   
 Meanwhile, Charity, Going back To The   Living-Room Of   The   Family, Found 
 There Lois Busied in arraying old Mrs. Armadale For Some Sort Of 
 Excursion; Putting a Light Shawl About Her, And Drawing a White 
 Sun-Bonnet Over Her Cap. Lois Herself Was In an Old Nankeen Dress With 
 A Cape, And Had Her Hat On. 
   
   
   
 "There'S Some Folks That Want You, Lois," Her Sister Announced. 
   
   
   
 "Want Me!" Said Lois. "Who Is It? Why Didn'T You Tell Them We Were Just 
 Going out?" 
   
   
   
 "I Don'T Usually Say Things Without I Know That It'S So," Responded 
 Charity. "Maybe We'Re Going to Be Hindered." 
   
   
   
 "We Must Not Be Hindered," Returned lois. "Grandmother Is Ready, And 
 Mrs. Barclay Is Ready, And The   Cart Is Here. We Must Go, Whoever Comes. 
 You Get Mother Into The   Cart, And The   Baskets And Everything, And I'Ll 
 Be As Quick As I Can." 
   
   
   
 So Lois Went Into The   Parlour. A Great Surprise Came Over Her When She 
 Saw Who Was There, And With The   Surprise A Slight Feeling of   Amusement; 
 Along With Some Other Feeling, She Could Not Have Told What, Which Put 
 Her Gently Upon Her Mettle. She Received her Visitors Frankly And 
 Pleasantly, And Also With A Calm Ease Which At The   Moment Was Superior 
 To Their Own. So She Heard Their Explanation Of   What Had Befallen Them, 
 And Of   Their Resolution To Visit Her; And A Slight Account Of   Their 
 Drive From Independence; All Which Mrs. Lenox Gave With More Prolixity 
 Than She Had Intended or Previously Thought Necessary. 
   
   
   
 "And Now," Said Lois, "I Will Invite You To Another Drive. We Are Just 
 Going down To The   Sound, To Smell The   Salt Air And Get Cooled off. We 
 Shall Have Supper Down There Before We Come Home. I Do Not Think I 
 Could Give You Anything pleasanter, If I Had The   Choice; But It Happens 
 That All Is Arranged for This. Do Come With Us; It Will Be A Variety 
 For You, At Least." 
   
   
   
 The Lady And Gentleman Looked at Each Other. 
   
   
   
 "It'S So Hot!" Objected the   Former. 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 29 (An Ox Cart) Pg 16 
 "It Will Be Cooler Every Minute Now," Said Lois. 
   
   
   
 "We Ought To Take The   Train--When It Comes Along--" 
   
   
   
 "You Cannot Tell When That Will Be," Said Mr. Lenox. "You Would Find It 
 Very Tedious Waiting at The   Station. We Might Take The   Night Train. 
 That Will Pass About Ten O'Clock, Or Should." 
   
   
   
 "But We Should Be In your Way, I Am Afraid," Mrs. Lenox Went On, 
 Turning to Lois. "You Are Not Prepared for Two More In your Party." 
   
   
   
 "Always!" Said Lois, Smiling. "We Should Never Think Ourselves Prepared 
 At All, In shampuashuh, If We Were Not Ready For Two More Than The 
 Party. And The   Cart Will Hold Us All." 
   
   
   
 "The Cart!" Cried the   Other. 
   
   
   
 "Yes. O Yes! I Did Not Tell You That," Said Lois, Smiling more Broadly. 
 "We Are Going in an Ox Cart. That Will Be A Novel Experience For You 
 Too." 
   
   
   
 If Mrs. Lenox Had Not Half Accepted the   Invitation Already, I Am Not 
 Sure But This Intimation Would Have Been Too Much For Her Courage. 
 However, She Was An Outwardly Well-Bred woman; That Is, Like So Many 
 Others, Well-Bred when There Was Nothing to Gain By Being otherwise; 
 And So She Excused her Hesitation And Doubt By The   Plea Of   Being "So 
 Dusty." There Was Help For That; Lois Took Her Upstairs To A Neat 
 Chamber, And Furnished her With Water And Towels. 
   
   
   
 It Was New Experience To The   City Lady. She Took Note, Half 
 Disdainfully, Of   The   Plainness Of   The   Room; The   Painted floor, Yellow 
 And Shining, Which Boasted only One Or Two Little Strips Of   Carpet; The 
 Common Earthenware Toilet-Set; The   Rush-Bottomed chairs. On The   Other 
 Hand, There Was An Old Mahogany Dressing bureau; A Neat Bed; And Water 
 And Towels (The Latter Coarse) Were Exceedingly Fresh And Sweet. She 
 Made Up Her Mind To Go Through With The   Adventure, And Rejoined her 
 Husband With A Composed mind. 
   
   
   
 Lois Took Them First To The   Sitting-Room, Where They Were Introduced to 
 Mrs. Barclay, And Then They All Went Out At The   Back Door Of   The   House, 
 And Across A Little Grassy Space, To A Gate Leading into A Lane. Here 
 Stood The   Cart, In which The   Rest Of   The   Family Was Already Bestowed; 
 Mrs. Armadale Being in an Arm-Chair With Short Legs, While Madge And 
 Charity Sat In the   Straw With Which The   Whole Bottom Of   The   Cart Was 
 Spread. A Tall, Oldish Man, With An Ox Whip, Stood Leaning against The 
 Fence And Surveying things. 
   
   
   
 "Are We To Go In _There?_" Said Mrs. Lenox, With Perceptible Doubt. 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 29 (An Ox Cart) Pg 17 
 "It'S The   Only Carriage We Have To Offer You," Said Lois Merrily. "For 
 Your Sake, I Wish We Had A Better; For My Own, I Like Nothing so Well 
 As An Ox Cart. Mrs. Barclay, Will You Get In? And Stimulate This Lady'S 
 Courage?" 
   
   
   
 A Kitchen Chair Had Been Brought Out To Facilitate The   Operation; And 
 Mrs. Barclay Stepped lightly In, Curled herself Down In the   Soft Bed of 
 Straw, And Declared that It Was Very Comfortable. With An Expression Of 
 Face Which Made Lois And Madge Laugh For Weeks After When They Recalled 
 It, Mrs. Lenox Stepped gingerly In, Following, And Took Her Place. 
   
   
   
 "Grandmother," Said Lois, "This Is Mrs. Lenox, Whom You Have Heard Me 
 Speak About. And These Are My Sisters, Madge And Charity, Mrs. Lenox. 
 And Grandmother, This Is Mr. Lenox. Now, You See The   Cart Has Room 
 Enough," She Added, As Herself And The   Gentleman Also Took Their Seats. 
   
   
   
 "Is That The   Hull Of   Ye?" Inquired now The   Man With The   Ox Whip, Coming 
 Forward. "And Be All Your Stores Got In for The   V'Yage? I Don'T Want To 
 Be Comin' Back From Somewheres About Half-Way." 
   
   
   
 "All Right, Mr. Sears," Said Lois. "You May Drive On. Mother, Are You 
 Comfortable?" 
   
   
   
 And Then There Was A "Whoa"-ing and A "Gee"-ing and A Mysterious 
 Flourishing of   The   Long Leathern Whip, With Which The   Driver Seemed to 
 Be Playing; For If Its Tip Touched the   Shoulders Of   The   Oxen It Did No 
 More, Though It Waved over Them Vigorously. But The   Oxen Understood, 
 And Pulled the   Cart Forward; Lifting and Setting down Their Heavy Feet 
 With Great Deliberation Seemingly, But With Equal Certain'Ty, And 
 Swaying their Great Heads Gently From Side To Side As They Went. Lois 
 Was So Much Amused at Her Guests' Situation, That She Had Some 
 Difficulty To Keep Her Features In their Due Calmness And Sobriety. 
 Mrs. Lenox Eyed the   Oxen, Then The   Contents Of   The   Cart, Then The 
 Fields. 
   
   
   
 "Slow Travelling!" Said Lois, With A Smile. 
   
   
   
 "Can They Go No Faster?" 
   
   
   
 "They Could Go A Little Faster If They Were Urged; But That Would Spoil 
 The Comfort Of   The   Whole Thing. The   Entire Genius Of   A Ride In an Ox 
 Cart Is, That Everybody Should Take His Ease." 
   
   
   
 "Oxen Included?" Said Mr. Lenox. 
   
   
   
 "Why Not?" 
   
   
   
 "Why Not, Indeed!" Said The   Gentleman, Smiling. "Only, Ordinary People 
 Cannot Get Rid Easily Of   The   Notion That The   Object Of   Going is To Get 
 
 
 
 Chapter 29 (An Ox Cart) Pg 18 
 Somewhere." 
   
   
   
 "That'S Not The   Object In this Case," Lois Answered merrily. "The One 
 Sole Object Is Fun." 
   
   
   
 Mrs. Lenox Said Nothing more, But Her Face Spoke As Plainly As 
 Possible, And You Call _This_ Fun! 
   
   
   
 "I Am Enjoying myself Very Much," Said Mrs. Barclay. "I Think It Is 
 Delightful." 
   
   
   
 Something in her Manner Of   Speech Made Mr. Lenox Look At Her. She Was 
 Sitting next Him On The   Cart Bottom. 
   
   
   
 "Perhaps This Is A New Experience Also To You?" He Said. 
   
   
   
 "Delightfully New. Never Rode In an Ox Cart Before In my Life; Hardly 
 Ever Saw One, In fact. We Are Quite Out Of   The   Race And Struggle And 
 Uneasiness Of   The   World, Don'T You See? There Comes Down A Feeling of 
 Repose Upon One, Softly, As Longfellow Says-- 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
    'As A Feather Is Wafted downward 
    From An Eagle In his Flight.' 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
 Only I Should Say In this Case It Was From The   Wing of   An Angel." 
   
   
   
 "Mrs. Barclay, You Are Too Poetical For An Ox Cart," Said Lois, 
 Laughing. "If We Began To Be Poetical, I Am Afraid The   Repose Would Be 
 Troubled." 
   
   
   
 "'Twont Du Poetry No Harm To Go In an Ox Cart," Remarked here The   Ox 
 Driver. 
   
   
   
 "I Agree With You, Sir," Said Mrs. Barclay. "Poetry Would Not Be Poetry 
 If She Could Not Ride Anywhere. But Why Should She Trouble Repose. 
 Lois?" 
   
   
   
 "Yes," Added mr. Lenox; "I Was About To Ask That Question. I Thought 
 Poetry Was Always Soothing. Or That The   Ladies At Least Think So." 
 
 
 
 Chapter 29 (An Ox Cart) Pg 19 
   
   
 "I Like It Well Enough," Said Lois, "But I Think It Is Apt To Be 
 Melancholy. Except In hymns." 
   
   
   
 "_Except_ Hymns!" Said Mrs. Lenox. "I Thought Hymns Were Always Sad. 
 They Deal So Much With Death And The   Grave." 
   
   
   
 "And The   Resurrection!" Said Lois. 
   
   
   
 "They Always Make _Me_ Gloomy," The   Lady Went On. "The Resurrection! Do 
 You Call That A Lively Subject?" 
   
   
   
 "Depends On How You Look At It, I Suppose," Said Her Husband. "But, 
 Miss Lothrop, I Cannot Recover From My Surprise At Your Assertion 
 Respecting non-Religious Poetry." 
   
   
   
 Lois Left That Statement Alone. She Did Not Care Whether He Recovered 
 Or Not. Mr. Lenox, However, Was Curious. 
   
   
   
 "I Wish You Would Show Me On What Your Opinion Is Founded," He Went On 
 Pleasantly. 
   
   
   
 "Yes, Lois, Justify Yourself," Said Mrs. Barclay. 
   
   
   
 "I Could Not Do That Without Making quotations, Mrs. Barclay, And I Am 
 Afraid I Cannot Remember Enough. Besides, It Would Hardly Be 
 Interesting." 
   
   
   
 "To Me It Would," Said Mrs. Barclay. "Where Could One Have A Better 
 Time? The   Oxen Go So Comfortably, And Leisure Is So Graciously 
 Abundant." 
   
   
   
 "Pray Go On, Miss Lothrop!" Mr. Lenox Urged. 
   
   
   
 "And Then I Hope You'Ll Go On And Prove Hymns Lively," Added his Wife. 
   
   
   
 The Conversation Which Followed was Long Enough To Have A Chapter To 
 Itself; And So May Be Comfortably Skipped by Any Who Are So Inclined. 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 30 (Poetry) Pg 20 
   
 "Perhaps You Will None Of   You Agree With Me," Lois Said; "And I Do Not 
 Know Much Poetry; But There Seems To Me To Run An Undertone Of   Lament 
 And Weariness Through Most Of   What I Know. Now Take The   'Death Of   The 
 Flowers,'--That You Were Reading yesterday, Mrs. Barclay-- 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
    'The South Wind Searches For The   Flowers Whose Fragrance Late He Bore, 
    And Sighs To Find Them In the   Wood And By The   Stream No More.' 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
 That Is The   Tone I Mean; A Sigh And A Regret." 
   
   
   
 "But The   'Death Of   The   Flowers' Is _Exquisite_," Pleaded mrs. Lenox. 
   
   
   
 "Certainly It Is," Said Lois; "But Is It Gay? 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
    'The Wind-Flower And The   Violet, They Perished long Ago, 
    And The   Brier-Rose And The   Orchis Died amid The   Summer Glow; 
    But On The   Hill The   Golden-Rod, And The   Aster In the   Wood, 
    And The   Yellow Sun-Flower By The   Brook In autumn Beauty Stood, 
    Till Fell The   Frost From The   Clear Cold Heaven, As Falls The   Plague On Men, 
    And The   Brightness Of   Their Smile Was Gone, From Upland, Glade, And Glen.'" 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
 "How You Remember It, Lois!" Said Mrs. Barclay. 
   
   
   
 "But Is Not That All True?" Asked mr. Lenox. 
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 30 (Poetry) Pg 21 
   
   
 "True In fact," Said Lois. "The Flowers Do Die. But The   Frost Does Not 
 Fall Like A Plague; And Nobody That Was Right Happy Would Say So, Or 
 Think So. Take Pringle'S 'Afar In the   Desert,' Mrs. Barclay-- 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
    'When The   Sorrows Of   Life The   Soul O'Ercast, 
    And Sick Of   The   Present I Turn To The   Past; 
    When The   Eye Is Suffused with Regretful Tears 
    From The   Fond Recollections Of   Former Years, 
    And Shadows Of   Things That Are Long Since Fled, 
    Flit Over The   Brain Like The   Ghosts Of   The   Dead; 
    Bright Visions--' 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
 I Forget How It Goes On." 
   
   
   
 "But That Is As Old As The   Hills!" Exclaimed mrs. Lenox. 
   
   
   
 "It Shows What I Mean." 
   
   
   
 "I Am Afraid You Will Not Better Your Case By Coming down Into Modern 
 Time, Mrs. Lenox," Remarked mrs. Barclay. "Take Tennyson-- 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
    'With Weary Steps I Loiter On, 
    Though Always Under Altered skies; 
    The   Purple From The   Distance Dies, 
    My Prospect And Horizon Gone.'" 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
 "Take Byron," Said Lois-- 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
    'My Days Are In the   Yellow Leaf, 
    The   Flower And Fruit Of   Life Are Gone; 
    The   Worm, The   Canker, And The   Grief, 
    Are Mine Alone.'" 
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 30 (Poetry) Pg 22 
   
   
 "O, Byron Was Morbid," Said Mrs. Lenox. 
   
   
   
 "Take Moore," Mrs. Barclay Went On, Humouring the   Discussion On 
 Purpose. "Do You Remember?-- 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
    'My Birthday! What A Different Sound 
    That Word Had In my Younger Years! 
    And Now, Each Time The   Day Comes Round, 
    Less And Less White Its Mark Appears.'" 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
 "Well, I Am Sure That Is True," Said The   Other Lady. 
   
   
   
 "Do You Remember Robert Herrick'S Lines To Daffodils?-- 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
    'Fair Daffodils, We Weep To See 
    You Haste Away So Soon.' 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
 And Then-- 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
    'We Have Short Time To Stay As You; 
    We Have As Short A Spring; 
    As Quick A Growth To Meet Decay, 
    As You Or Anything: 
   
   
   
    We Die 
    As Your Showers Do; And Dry 
    Away 
    Like To The   Summer'S Rain, 
    Or As The   Pearls Of   Morning dew, 
 
 
 
 Chapter 30 (Poetry) Pg 23 
    Ne'Er To Be Found Again.' 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
 And Waller To The   Rose-- 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
    'Then Die! That She 
    The   Common Fate Of   All Things Rare 
    May Read In thee. 
    How Small A Part Of   Time They Share, 
    That Are So Wondrous Sweet And Fair!' 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
 "And Burns To The   Daisy," Said Lois-- 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
    'There In thy Scanty Mantle Clad, 
    Thy Snowy Bosom Sunward Spread, 
    Thou Lifts Thy Unassuming head 
    In humble Guise; 
    But Now The   Share Uptears Thy Bed, 
    And Low Thou Lies! 
   
   
   
    'Even Thou Who Mournst The   Daisy'S Fate, 
    That Fate Is Thine--No Distant Date; 
    Stern Ruin'S Ploughshare Drives, Elate, 
    Full On Thy Bloom, 
    Till, Crushed beneath The   Furrow'S Weight, 
    Shall Be Thy Doom!'" 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
 "O, You Are Getting very Gloomy!" Exclaimed mrs. Lenox. 
   
   
   
 "Not We," Said Lois Merrily Laughing, "But Your Poets." 
   
   
   
 "Mend Your Cause, Julia," Said Her Husband. 
   
   
   
 "I Haven'T Got The   Poets In my Head," Said The   Lady. "They Are Not All 
 
 
 
 Chapter 30 (Poetry) Pg 24 
 Like That. I Am Very Fond Of   Elizabeth Barrett Browning." 
   
   
   
 "The 'Cry Of   The   Children'?" Said Mrs. Barclay. 
   
   
   
 "O No, Indeed! She'S Not All Like That." 
   
   
   
 "She Is Not All Like That. There Is 'Hector In the   Garden.'" 
   
   
   
 "O, That Is Pretty!" Said Lois. "But Do You Remember How It Runs?-- 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
    'Nine Years Old! The   First Of   Any 
    Seem The   Happiest Years That Come--'" 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
 "Go On, Lois," Said Her Friend. And The   Request Being seconded, Lois 
 Gave The   Whole, Ending with-- 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
    'Oh The   Birds, The   Tree, The   Ruddy 
    And White Blossoms, Sleek With Rain! 
    Oh My Garden, Rich With Pansies! 
    Oh My Childhood'S Bright Romances! 
    All Revive, Like Hector'S Body, 
    And I See Them Stir Again! 
   
   
   
    'And Despite Life'S Changes--Chances, 
    And Despite The   Deathbell'S Toll, 
    They Press On Me In full Seeming! 
    Help, Some Angel! Stay This Dreaming! 
    As The   Birds Sang In the   Branches, 
    Sing god'S Patience Through My Soul! 
   
   
   
    'That No Dreamer, No Neglecter 
    Of   The   Present Work Unsped, 
    I May Wake Up And Be Doing, 
    Life'S Heroic Ends Pursuing, 
    Though My Past Is Dead As Hector, 
    And Though Hector Is Twice Dead.'" 
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 30 (Poetry) Pg 25 
   
 "Well," Said Mrs. Lenox Slowly, "Of Course That Is All True." 
   
   
   
 "From Her Standpoint," Said Lois. "That Is According to My Charge, 
 Which You Disallowed." 
   
   
   
 "From Her Standpoint?" Repeated mr. Lenox. "May I Ask For An 
 Explanation?" 
   
   
   
 "I Mean, That As She Saw Things,-- 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
    'The First Of   Any 
    Seem The   Happiest Years That Come.'" 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
 "Well, Of   Course!" Said Mrs. Lenox. "Does Not Everybody Say So?" 
   
   
   
 Nobody Answered. 
   
   
   
 "Does Not Everybody Agree In that Judgment, Miss Lothrop?" Urged the 
 Gentleman. 
   
   
   
 "I Dare Say--Everybody Looking from That Standpoint," Said Lois. "And 
 The Poets Write Accordingly. They Are All Of   Them Seeing shadows." 
   
   
   
 "How Can They Help Seeing shadows?" Returned mrs. Lenox Impatiently. 
 "The Shadows Are There!" 
   
   
   
 "Yes," Said Lois, "The Shadows Are There." But There Was A Reservation 
 In Her Voice. 
   
   
   
 "Do Not _You_, Then, Reckon The   Years Of   Childhood The   Happiest?" Mr. 
 Lenox Inquired. 
   
   
   
 "No." 
   
   
   
 "But You Cannot Have Had Much Experience Of   Life," Said Mrs. Lenox, "To 
 
 
 
 Chapter 30 (Poetry) Pg 26 
 Say So. I Don'T See How They Can _Help_ Being the   Happiest, To Any One." 
   
   
   
 "I Believe," Lois Answered, Lowering her Voice A Little, "That If We 
 Could See All, We Should See That The   Oldest Person In our Company Is 
 The Happiest Here." 
   
   
   
 The Eyes Of   The   Strangers Glanced towards The   Old Lady In her Low Chair 
 At The   Front Of   The   Ox Cart. In her Wrinkled face There Was Not A Line 
 Of Beauty, Perhaps Never Had Been; In spite Of   Its Sense And Character 
 Unmistakeable; It Was Grave, She Was Thinking her Own Thoughts; It Was 
 Weather-Beaten, So To Say, With The   Storms Of   Life; And Yet There Was 
 An Expression Of   Unruffled repose Upon It, As Calm As The   Glint Of 
 Stars In a Still Lake. Mrs. Lenox'S Look Was Curiously Incredulous, 
 Scornful, And Wistful, Together; It Touched lois. 
   
   
   
 "One'S Young Years Ought Not To Be One'S Best," She Said. 
   
   
   
 "How Are You Going to Help It?" Came Almost Querulously. Lois Thought, 
 If _She_ Were Mr. Lenox, She Would Not Feel Flattered. 
   
   
   
 "When One Is Young, One Does Not Know Disappointment," The   Other Went 
 On. 
   
   
   
 "And When One Is Old, One May Get The   Better Of   Disappointment." 
   
   
   
 "When One Is Young, Everything is Fresh." 
   
   
   
 "I Think Things Grow Fresher To Me With Every Year," Said Lois, 
 Laughing. "Mrs. Lenox, It Is Possible To Keep One'S Youth." 
   
   
   
 "Then You Have Found The   Philosopher'S Stone?" Said Mr. Lenox. 
   
   
   
 Lois'S Smile Was Brilliant, But She Said Nothing to That. She Was 
 Beginning to Feel That She Had Talked more Than Her Share, And Was 
 Inclined to Draw Back. Then There Came A Voice From The   Arm-Chair, It 
 Came Upon A Pause Of   Stillness, With Its Quiet, Firm Tones: 
   
   
   
 'He Satisfieth Thy Mouth With Good Things, So That Thy Youth Is Renewed 
 Like The   Eagle'S.'" 
   
   
   
 The Voice Came Like An Oracle, And Was Listened to With Somewhat Of   The 
 Same Silent Reverence. But After That Pause Mr. Lenox Remarked that He 
 Never Understood That Comparison. What Was It About An Eagle'S Youth? 
   
   
   
 "Why," Said Lois, "An Eagle Never Grows Old!" 
 
 
 
 Chapter 30 (Poetry) Pg 27 
   
   
   
 "Is That It! But I Wish You Would Go On A Little Further, Miss Lothrop. 
 You Spoke Of   Hymn-Writers Having a Different Standpoint, And Of   Their 
 Words As More Cheerful Than The   Utterances Of   Other Poets. Do You Know, 
 I Had Never Thought Other Poets Were Not Cheerful, Until Now; And I 
 Certainly Never Got The   Notion That Hymns Were An Enlivening sort Of 
 Literature. I Thought They Dealt With The   Shadowy Side Of   Life Almost 
 Exclusively." 
   
   
   
 "Well--Yes, Perhaps They Do," Said Lois; "But They Go Kindling beacons 
 Everywhere To Light It Up; And It Is The   Beacons You See, And Not The 
 Darkness. Now The   Secular Poets Turn That About. They Deal With The 
 Brightest Things They Can Find; But, To Change The   Figure, They Cannot 
 Keep The   Minor Chord Out Of   Their Music." 
   
   
   
 Mr. And Mrs. Lenox Looked at Each Other. 
   
   
   
 "Do You Mean To Say," Said The   Latter, "That The   Hymn-Writers Do Not 
 Use The   Minor Key? They Write In it, Or They Sing in it, More Properly, 
 Altogether!" 
   
   
   
 "Yes," Said Lois, Into Whose Cheeks A Slight Colour Was Mounting; "Yes, 
 Perhaps; But It Is With The   Blast Of   The   Trumpet And The   Clash Of   The 
 Cymbals Of   Triumph. There May Be The   Confession Of   Pain, But The   Cry Of 
 Victory Is There Too!" 
   
   
   
 "Victory--Over What?" Said Mrs. Lenox Rather Scornfully, 
   
   
   
 "Over Pain, For One Thing," Said Lois; "And Over Loss, And Weariness, 
 And Disappointment." 
   
   
   
 "You Will Have To Confirm Your Words By Examples Again, Lois," Said 
 Mrs. Barclay. "We Do Not All Know Hymn Literature As Well As You Do." 
   
   
   
 "I Never Saw Anything of   All That In hymns," Said Mrs. Lenox. "They 
 Always Sound A Little, To Me, Like Dirges." 
   
   
   
 Lois Hesitated. The   Cart Was Plodding along Through The   Smooth Lanes At 
 The Rate Of   Less Than A Mile An Hour, The   Oxen Swaying from Side To 
 Side With Their Slow, Patient Steps. The   Level Country Around Lay 
 Sleepily Still Under The   Hot Afternoon Sun; It Was Rarely That Any 
 Human Stir Was To Be Seen, Save Only The   Ox Driver Walking beside The 
 Cart. He Walked beside The   _Cart_, Not The   Oxen; Evidently Lending a 
 Curious Ear To What Was Spoken In the   Company; On Which Account Also 
 The Progress Of   The   Vehicle Was A Little Less Lively Than It Might Have 
 Been. 
   
   
   
 "My Cynthy'S Writ A Lot O' Hymns," He Remarked just Here. "I Never 
 Heerd No Trumpets In 'Em, Though. I Don' Know What Them Other Things 
 
 
 
 Chapter 30 (Poetry) Pg 28 
 Is." 
   
   
   
 "Cymbals?" Said Lois. "They Are Round, Thin Plates Of   Metal, Mr. Sears, 
 With Handles On One Side To Hold Them By; And The   Player Clashes Them 
 Together, At Certain Parts Of   The   Music--As You Would Slap The   Palms Of 
 Your Hands." 
   
   
   
 "Doos, Hey? I Want To Know! And What Doos They Sound Like?" 
   
   
   
 "I Can'T Tell," Said Lois. "They Sound Shrill, And Sweet, And Gay." 
   
   
   
 "But That'S Cur'Ous Sort O' Church Music!" Said The   Farmer. 
   
   
   
 "Now, Miss Lothrop,--You Must Let Us Hear The   Figurative Cymbals," Mr. 
 Lenox Reminded her. 
   
   
   
 "Do!" Said Mrs. Barclay. 
   
   
   
 "There Cannot Be Much Of   It," Opined mrs. Lenox. 
   
   
   
 "On The   Contrary," Said Lois; "There Is So Much Of   It That I Am At A 
 Loss Where To Begin. 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
    'I Love Yon Pale Blue Sky; It Is The   Floor 
    Of   That Glad Home Where I Shall Shortly Be; 
    A Home From Which I Shall Go Out No More, 
    From Toil And Grief And Vanity Set Free. 
   
   
   
    'I Gaze Upon Yon Everlasting arch, 
    Up Which The   Bright Stars Wander As They Shine; 
    And, As I Mark Them In their Nightly March, 
    I Think How Soon That Journey Shall Be Mine! 
   
   
   
    'Yon Silver Drift Of   Silent Cloud, Far Up 
    In the   Still Heaven--Through You My Pathway Lies: 
    Yon Rugged mountain Peak--How Soon Your Top 
    Shall I Behold Beneath Me, As I Rise! 
   
   
   
    'Not Many More Of   Life'S Slow-Pacing hours, 
    Shaded with Sorrow'S Melancholy Hue; 
    Oh What A Glad Ascending shall Be Ours, 
    Oh What A Pathway Up Yon Starry Blue! 
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 30 (Poetry) Pg 29 
   
    'A Journey Like Elijah'S, Swift And Bright, 
    Caught Gently Upward To An Early Crown, 
    In heaven'S Own Chariot Of   All-Blazing light, 
    With Death Untasted and The   Grave Unknown.'" 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
 "That'S Not Like Any Hymn I Ever Heard," Remarked mrs. Lenox, After A 
 Pause Had Followed the   Last Words. 
   
   
   
 "That Is A Hymn Of   Dr. Bonar'S," Said Lois. "I Took It Merely Because 
 It Came First Into My Head. Long Ago Somebody Else Wrote Something very 
 Like It-- 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
    'Ye Stars Are But The   Shining dust 
    Of   My Divine Abode; 
    The   Pavement Of   Those Heavenly Courts 
    Where I Shall See My God. 
   
   
   
    'The Father Of   Unnumbered lights 
    Shall There His Beams Display; 
    _And Not One Moment'S Darkness Mix 
    With That Unvaried day_.' 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
 Do You Hear The   Cymbals, Mrs. Lenox?" 
   
   
   
 There Came Here A Long Breath, It Sounded like A Breath Of   Satisfaction 
 Or Rest; It Was Breathed by Mrs. Armadale. In the   Stillness Of   Their 
 Progress, The   Slowly Revolving wheels Making no Noise On The   Smooth 
 Road, And The   Feet Of   The   Oxen Falling almost Soundlessly, They All 
 Heard It; And They All Felt It. It Was Nothing less Than An Echo Of 
 What Lois Had Been Repeating; A Mute "Even So!"--Probably Unconscious, 
 And Certainly Undesigned. Mrs. Lenox Glanced that Way. There Was A 
 Far-Off Look On The   Old Worn Face, And Lines Of   Peace All About The 
 Lips And The   Brow And The   Quiet Folded hands. Mrs. Lenox Did Not Know 
 That A Sigh Came From Herself As Her Eyes Turned away. 
   
   
   
 Her Husband Eyed the   Three Women Curiously. They Were A Study To Him, 
 Albeit He Hardly Knew The   Grammar Of   The   Language In which So Many 
 Things Seemed to Be Written On Their Faces. Mrs. Armadale'S Features, 
 If Strong, Were Of   The   Homeliest Kind; Work-Worn And Weather-Worn, To 
 Boot; Yet The   Young Man Was Filled with Reverence As He Looked from The 
 Hands In their Cotton Gloves, Folded on Her Lap, To The   Hard Features 
 Shaded and Framed by The   White Sun-Bonnet. The   Absolute, Profound Calm 
 Was Imposing to Him; The   Still Peace Of   The   Spirit Was Attractive. He 
 
 
 
 Chapter 30 (Poetry) Pg 30 
 Looked at His Wife; And The   Contrast Struck Even Him. Her Face Was 
 Murky. It Was Impatience, In part, He Guessed, Which Made It So; _But_ 
 Why Was She Impatient? It Was Cloudy With Unhappiness; And She Ought To 
 Be Very Happy, Mr. Lenox Thought; Had She Not Everything in the   World 
 That She Cared about? How Could There Be A Cloud Of   Unrest And 
 Discontent On Her Brow, And Those Displeased lines About Her Lips? His 
 Eye Turned to Lois, And Lingered as Long As It Dared. There Was Peace 
 Too, Very Sunny, And A Look Of   Lofty Thought, And A Brightness That 
 Seemed to Know No Shadow; Though At The   Moment She Was Not Smiling. 
   
   
   
 "Are You Not Going on, Miss Lothrop?" He Said Gently; For He Felt Mrs. 
 Barclay'S Eye Upon Him. And, Besides, He Wanted to Provoke The   Girl To 
 Speak More. 
   
   
   
 "I Could Go On Till I Tired you," Said Lois. 
   
   
   
 "I Do Not Think You Could," He Returned pleasantly. "What Can We Do 
 Better? We Are In a Most Pastoral Frame Of   Mind, With Pastoral 
 Surroundings; Poetry Could Not Be Better Accompanied." 
   
   
   
 "When One Gets Excited in talking, Perhaps One Had Better Stop," Lois 
 Said Modestly. 
   
   
   
 "On The   Contrary! Then The   Truth Will Come Out Best." 
   
   
   
 Lois Smiled and Shook Her Head. "We Shall Soon Be At The   Shore. 
 Look,--This Way We Turn Down To Go To It, And Leave The   High Road." 
   
   
   
 "Then Make Haste!" Said Mr. Lenox. "It Will Sound Nowhere Better Than 
 Here." 
   
   
   
 "Yes, Go On," Said His Wife Now, Raising her Heavy Eyelids. 
   
   
   
 "Well," Said Lois. "Do You Remember Bryant'S 'Thanatopsis'?" 
   
   
   
 "Of Course. _That_ Is Bright Enough At Any Rate," Said The   Lady. 
   
   
   
 "Do You Think So?" 
   
   
   
 "Yes! What Is The   Matter With It?" 
   
   
   
 "Dark--And Earthly." 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 30 (Poetry) Pg 31 
 "I Don'T Think So At All!" Cried mrs. Lenox, Now Becoming excited in 
 Her Turn. "What Would You Have? I Think It Is Beautiful! And Elevated; 
 And Hopeful." 
   
   
   
 "Can You Repeat The   Last Lines?" 
   
   
   
 "No; But I Dare Say You Can. You Seem To Me To Have A Library Of   Poets 
 In Your Head." 
   
   
   
 "I Can," Said Mrs. Barclay Here, Putting in her Word At This Not Very 
 Civil Speech. And She Went On-- 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
    'The Gay Will Laugh 
    When Thou Art Gone, The   Solemn Brood Of   Care 
    Plod On, And Each One As Before Will Chase 
    His Favourite Phantom; Yet All These Shall Leave 
    Their Mirth And Their Employments, And Shall Come 
    And Make Their Bed with Thee.'" 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
 "Well, Of   Course," Said Mrs. Lenox. "That Is True." 
   
   
   
 "Is It Cheerful?" Said Mrs. Barclay. "But That Is Not The   Last.-- 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
    'So Live, That When Thy Summons Comes To Join 
    The   Innumerable Caravan, Which Moves 
    To That Mysterious Realm, Where Each Shall Take 
    His Chamber In the   Silent Halls Of   Death, 
    Thou Go Not Like The   Quarry-Slave At Night, 
    Scourged to His Dungeon; But, Sustained and Soothed 
    By An Unfaltering trust, Approach Thy Grave, 
    Like One Who Wraps The   Drapery Of   His Couch 
    About Him, And Lies Down To Pleasant Dreams.'" 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
 "There!" Mrs. Lenox Exclaimed. "What Would You Have, Better Than That?" 
   
   
   
 Lois Looked at Her, And Said Nothing. The   Look Irritated husband And 
 Wife, In different Ways; Her To Impatience, Him To Curiosity. 
 
 
 
 Chapter 30 (Poetry) Pg 32 
   
   
   
 "Have You Got Anything better, Miss Lothrop?" He Asked. 
   
   
   
 "You Can Judge. Compare That With A Dying christian'S Address To His 
 Soul-- 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
    'Deathless Principle, Arise; 
    Soar, Thou Native Of   The   Skies. 
    Pearl Of   Price, By Jesus Bought, 
    To His Glorious Likeness Wrought, 
    Go, To Shine Before The   Throne; 
    Deck The   Mediatorial Crown; 
    Go, His Triumphs To Adorn; 
    Made For God, To God Return.' 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
 I Won'T Give You The   Whole Of   It-- 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
    'Is Thy Earthly House Distressed? 
    Willing to Retain Her Guest? 
    'Tis Not Thou, But She, Must Die; 
    Fly, Celestial Tenant, Fly.' 
    Burst Thy Shackles, Drop Thy Clay, 
    Sweetly Breathe Thyself Away: 
    Singing, To Thy Crown Remove, 
    Swift Of   Wing, And Fired with Love.' 
   
   
   
    'Shudder Not To Pass The   Stream; 
    Venture All Thy Care On Him; 
    Him Whose Dying love And Power 
    Stilled its Tossing, Hushed its Roar. 
    Safe Is The   Expanded wave, 
    Gentle As A Summer'S Eve; 
    Not One Object Of   His Care 
    Ever Suffered shipwreck There.'" 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
 "That Ain'T No Hymn In the   Book, Is It?" Inquired the   Ox Driver. 
 "Haw!--Go 'Long. That Ain'T In the   Book, Is It, Lois?" 
   
   
   
 "Not In the   One We Use In church, Mr. Sears." 
 
 
 
 Chapter 30 (Poetry) Pg 33 
   
   
 "I Wisht It Was!--Like It Fust-Rate. Never Heerd It Afore In my Life." 
   
   
   
 "There'S As Good As That _In_ The   Church Book," Remarked mrs. Armadale. 
   
   
   
 "Yes," Said Lois; "I Like Wesley'S Hymn Even Better-- 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
    'Come, Let Us Join Our Friends Above 
    That Have Obtained the   Prize; 
    And On The   Eagle Wings Of   Love 
    To Joys Celestial Rise. 
   
   
   
 .           .           .           . 
   
   
   
    'One Army Of   The   Living god, 
    To His Command We Bow; 
    Part Of   His Host Have Crossed the   Flood 
    And Part Are Crossing now. 
   
   
   
 .           .           .           .           .           . 
   
   
   
    'His Militant Embodied host, 
    With Wishful Looks We Stand, 
    And Long To See That Happy Coast, 
    And Reach The   Heavenly Land. 
   
   
   
    'E'En Now, By Faith, We Join Our Hands 
    With Those That Went Before; 
    And Greet The   Blood-Besprinkled bands 
    On The   Eternal Shore.'" 
   
   
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 31 (Long Clams) Pg 34 
   
 There Was A Soft Ring in lois'S Voice; It Might Be An Echo Of   The 
 Trumpets And Cymbals Of   Which She Had Been Speaking. Yet Not Done For 
 Effect; It Was Unconscious, And Delicate As Indescribable, For Which 
 Reason It Had The   Greater Power. The   Party Remained silent For A Few 
 Minutes, All Of   Them; During which A Killdeer On The   Fence Uttered his 
 Little Shout Of   Gratulation; And The   Wild, Salt Smell Coming from The 
 Sound And The   Not Distant Ocean, Joined with The   Silence And Lois'S 
 Hymn, Gave A Peculiar Impression Of   Solitude And Desolation To At Least 
 One Of   The   Party. The   Cart Entered an Enclosure, And Halted before A 
 Small Building at The   Edge Of   The   Shore, Just Above High-Water Mark. 
 There Were Several Such Buildings Scattered along The   Shore At 
 Intervals, Some Enclosed, Some Not. The   Whole Breadth Of   The   Sound Lay 
 In View, Blinking under The   Summer Sun; Yet The   Air Was Far Fresher 
 Here Than It Had Been In the   Village. The   Tide Was Half Out; A Wide 
 Stretch Of   Wet Sand, With Little Pools In the   Hollows, Intervened 
 Between The   Rocks And The   Water; The   Rocks Being no Magnificent 
 Buttresses Of   The   Land, But Large And Small Boulders Strewn Along The 
 Shore Edge, Hung With Seaweed draperies; And Where There Were Not Rocks 
 There Was A Growth Of   Rushes On A Mud Bottom. The   Party Were Helped out 
 Of The   Cart One By One, And The   Strangers Surveyed the   Prospect. 
   
   
   
 "'Afar In the   Desert,' This Is, I Declare," Said The   Gentleman. 
   
   
   
 "Might As Well Be," Echoed his Wife. "Whatever Do You Come Here For?" 
 She Said, Turning to Lois; "And What Do You Do When You Are Here?" 
   
   
   
 "Get Some Clams And Have Supper." 
   
   
   
 "_Clams!_"--With An Inimitable Accent. "Where Do You Get Clams?" 
   
   
   
 "Down Yonder--At The   Edge Of   The   Rushes." 
   
   
   
 "Who Gets Them? And How Do You Get Them?" 
   
   
   
 "I Guess I Shall Get Them To-Day. O, We Do It With A Hoe." 
   
   
   
 Lois Stayed for No More, But Ran In. The   Interior Room Of   The   House, 
 Which Was Very Large For A Bathing-House, Was Divided in two By A 
 Partition. In the   Inner, Smaller Room, Lois Began Busily To Change Her 
 Dress. On The   Walls Hung A Number Of   Bathing suits Of   Heavy Flannel, 
 One Of   Which She Appropriated. Charity Came In after Her. 
   
   
   
 "You Ain'T A Goin' For Clams, Lois? Well, I Wouldn'T, If I Was You." 
   
   
   
 "Why Not?" 
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 31 (Long Clams) Pg 35 
   
 "I Wouldn'T Make Myself Such A Sight, For Folks To See." 
   
   
   
 "I Don'T At All Do It For Folks To See, But That Folks May Eat. We Have 
 Brought 'Em Here, And Now We Must Give Them Something for Supper." 
   
   
   
 "Are You Goin' With Bare Feet?" 
   
   
   
 "Why Not?" Said Lois, Laughing. "Do You Think I Am Going to Spoil My 
 Best Pair Of   Shoes For Vanity'S Sake?" And She Threw Off Shoes And 
 Stockings As She Spoke, And Showed a Pair Of   Pretty Little White Feet, 
 Which Glanced coquettishly Under The   Blue Flannel. 
   
   
   
 "Lois, What'S Brought These Folks Here?" 
   
   
   
 "I Am Sure I Don'T Know." 
   
   
   
 "I Wish They'D Stayed where They Belong. That Woman'S Just Turning up 
 Her Nose At Every Blessed thing she Sees." 
   
   
   
 "It Won'T Hurt The   Sound!" Said Lois, Laughing. 
   
   
   
 "What Did They Come For?" 
   
   
   
 "I Can'T Tell; But, Charity, It Will Never Do To Let Them Go Away 
 Feeling they Got Nothing by Coming. So You Have The   Kettle Boiled, Will 
 You, And The   Table All Ready--And I'Ll Try For The   Clams." 
   
   
   
 "They Won'T Like 'Em." 
   
   
   
 "Can'T Help That." 
   
   
   
 "And What Am I Going to Do With Mr. Sears?" 
   
   
   
 "Give Him His Supper Of   Course." 
   
   
   
 "Along With All The   Others?" 
   
   
   
 "You Must. You Cannot Set Two Tables." 
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 31 (Long Clams) Pg 36 
 "There'S Aunt Anne!" Exclaimed charity; And In the   Next Minute Aunt 
 Anne Came Round To Them By The   Front Steps; For Each Half Of   The 
 Bathing-House Had Its Own Door Of   Approach, As Well As A Door Of 
 Communication. Mrs. Marx Came In, Surveyed lois, And Heard Charity'S 
 Statement. 
   
   
   
 "These Things Will Happen In the   Best Regulated families," She 
 Remarked, Beginning also To Loosen Her Dress. 
   
   
   
 "What Are You Going to Do, Aunt Anne?" 
   
   
   
 "Going after Clams, With Lois. We Shall Want A Bushel Or Less; And We 
 Can'T Wait Till The   Moon Rises, To Eat 'Em." 
   
   
   
 "And How Am I Going to Set The   Table With Them All There?" 
   
   
   
 Mrs. Marx Laughed. "I Expect They'Re Like Cats In a Strange Garret. Set 
 Your Table Just As Usual, Charry; Push 'Em Out O' The   Way If They Get 
 In It. Now Then, Lois!" 
   
   
   
 And, Slipping down The   Steps And Away Off To The   Stretch Of   Mud Where 
 The Rushes Grew, Two Extraordinary, Flannel-Clad, Barefooted figures, 
 Topped with Sun-Bonnets And Armed with Hoes And Baskets, Were Presently 
 Seen To Be Very Busy There About Something. Charity Opened the   Door Of 
 Communication Between The   Two Parts Of   The   House, And Surveyed the 
 Party. Mrs. Barclay Sat On The   Step Outside, Looking over The   Plain Of 
 Waters, With Her Head In her Hand. Mrs. Armadale Was In a 
 Rocking-Chair, Just Within The   Door, Placidly Knitting. Mr. And Mrs. 
 Lenox, Somewhat Further Back, Seemed not To Know Just What To Do With 
 Themselves; And Madge, Holding a Little Aloof, Met Her Sister'S Eye 
 With An Expression Of   Despair And Doubt. Outside, At The   Foot Of   The 
 Steps, Where Mrs. Barclay Sat, Lounged the   Ox Driver. 
   
   
   
 "Ben Here Afore?" He Asked confidentially Of   The   Lady. 
   
   
   
 "Yes, Once Or Twice. I Never Came In an Ox Cart Before." 
   
   
   
 "I Guess You Hain'T," He Replied, Chewing a Blade Of   Rank Grass Which 
 He Had Pulled for The   Purpose. "My Judgment Is We Had A Fust-Rate 
 Entertainment, Comin' Down." 
   
   
   
 "I Quite Agree With You." 
   
   
   
 "Now In anythin' _But_ An Ox Cart, You Couldn'T Ha' Had It." 
   
   
   
 "No, Not So Well, Certainly." 
 
 
 
 Chapter 31 (Long Clams) Pg 37 
   
   
 "_I_ Couldn'T Ha' Had It, Anyway, Withouten We'D Come So Softly. I 
 Declare, I Believe Them Critters Stepped soft O' Purpose. It'S Better'N 
 A Book, To Hear That Girl Talk, Now, Ain'T It?" 
   
   
   
 "Much Better Than Many Books." 
   
   
   
 "She'S Got A Lot O' 'Em Inside Her Head. That Beats Me! She Allays Was 
 Smart, Lois Was; But I'D No Idee She Was So Full O' Book Larnin'. Books 
 Is A Great Thing!" And He Heaved a Sigh. 
   
   
   
 "Do You Have Time To Read Much Yourself, Sir?" 
   
   
   
 "Depends On The   Book," He Said, With A Bit Of   A Laugh. "Accordin' To 
 That, I Get Much Or Little. No; In these Here Summer Days A Man Can'T 
 Do Much At Books; The   Evenin'S Short, You See, And The   Days Is Long; 
 And The   Days Is Full O' Work. The   Winter'S The   Time For Readin'. I Got 
 Hold O' A Book Last Winter That Was Wuth A Great Deal O' Time, And Got 
 It. I Never Liked a Book Better. That Was Rollin'S 'Ancient History.'" 
   
   
   
 "Ah!" Said Mrs. Barclay. "So You Enjoyed that?" 
   
   
   
 "Ever Read It?" 
   
   
   
 "Yes." 
   
   
   
 "Didn'T You Enjoy It?" 
   
   
   
 "I Believe I Like Modern History Better." 
   
   
   
 "I'Ve Read Some O' That Too," Said He Meditatively. "It Ain'T So 
 Different. 'Seems To Me, Folks Is Allays Pretty Much Alike; Only We 
 Call Things By Different Names. Alexander The   Great, Now,--He Warn'T 
 Much Different From Napoleon Buonaparte." 
   
   
   
 "Wasn'T He A Better Man?" Inquired mr. Lenox, Putting his Head Out At 
 The Door. 
   
   
   
 "Wall, I Don' Know; It'S Difficult, You Know, To Judge Of   Folk'S 
 Insides; But I Don'T Make Much Count Of   A Man That Drinks Himself To 
 Death At Thirty." 
   
   
   
 "Haven'T You Any Drinking in shampuashuh?" 
 
 
 
 Chapter 31 (Long Clams) Pg 38 
   
 "Wall, There Ain'T Much; And What There Is, Is Done In the   Dark, Like. 
 You Won'T Find No Rum-Shops Open." 
   
   
   
 "Indeed! How Long Has The   Town Been So Distinguished?" 
   
   
   
 "I Guess It'S Five Year. I _Know_ It Is; For It Was Just Afore We Put 
 In Our Last President. Then We Voted liquor Shouldn'T Be President In 
 Shampuashuh." 
   
   
   
 "Do You Get Along Any Better For It?" 
   
   
   
 "Wall"--Slowly--"I Should Say We Did. There Ain'T No Quarrellin', Nor 
 Fightin', Nor Anybody Took Up For The   Jail, Nor No One Livin' In the 
 Poorhouse--'Thout It'S Some Tramp On His Way To Some Place Where There 
 _Is_ Liquor. An' _He_ Don'T Want To Stay." 
   
   
   
 "What Are Those Two Figures Yonder Among The   Grass?" Mrs. Lenox Now 
 Asked; She Also Having come Out Of   The   House In search Of   Objects Of 
 Interest, The   Interior Offering none. 
   
   
   
 "Them?" Said Mr. Sears. "Them'S Lois And Her Aunt. Their Baskets Is 
 Gettin' Heavy, Too. I'Ll Make The   Fire For Ye, Miss Charity," He Cried, 
 Lifting his Voice; And Therewith Disappeared. 
   
   
   
 "What Are They Doing?" Mrs. Lenox Asked, In a Lower Tone. 
   
   
   
 "Digging clams," Mrs. Barclay Informed her. 
   
   
   
 "Digging clams! How Do They Dig Them?" 
   
   
   
 "With A Hoe, I Believe." 
   
   
   
 "I Ought To Go And Offer My Services," Said The   Gentleman, Rising. 
   
   
   
 "Do Not Think Of   It," Said Mrs. Barclay. "You Could Not Go Without 
 Plunging into Wet, Soft Mud; The   Clams Are Found Only There, I Believe." 
   
   
   
 "How Do _They_ Go?" 
   
   
   
 "Barefoot-Dressed for It." 
 
 
 
 Chapter 31 (Long Clams) Pg 39 
   
   
 "_Un_Dressed for It," Said Mrs. Lenox. "Barefoot In the   Mud! Could You 
 Have Conceived it!" 
   
   
   
 "They Say The   Mud Is Warm," Mrs. Barclay Returned, Keeping back A Smile. 
   
   
   
 "But How Horrid!" 
   
   
   
 "I Am Told It Is Very Good Sport. The   Clams Are Shy, And Endeavour To 
 Take Flight When They Hear The   Strokes Of   The   Hoe; So That It Comes To 
 A Trial Of   Speed between The   Pursuer And The   Pursued; Which Is Quite 
 Exciting." 
   
   
   
 "I Should Think, If I Could See A Clam, I Could Pick It Up," Mrs. Lenox 
 Said Scornfully. 
   
   
   
 "Yes; You Cannot See Them." 
   
   
   
 "Do You Mean, They Run Away _Under Ground?_" 
   
   
   
 "So I Am Told." 
   
   
   
 "How Can They? They Have No Feet." 
   
   
   
 Mrs. Barclay Could Not Help Laughing now, And Confessed her Ignorance 
 Of The   Natural Powers Of   The   Clam Family. 
   
   
   
 "Where Is That Old Man Gone To Make His Fire? Didn'T He Say He Was 
 Going to Make A Fire?" 
   
   
   
 "Yes; In the   Cooking-House." 
   
   
   
 "Where Is That?" And Mrs. Lenox Came Down The   Steps And Went To 
 Explore. A Few Yards From The   Bathing-House, Just Within The   Enclosure 
 Fence, She Found A Small Building, Hardly Two Yards Square, But 
 Thoroughly Built And Possessing a Chimney. The   Door Stood Open; Within 
 Was A Cooking-Stove, In which Fire Was Roaring; A Neat Pile Of   Billets 
 Of Wood For Firing, A Tea-Kettle, A Large Iron Pot, And Several Other 
 Kitchen Utensils. 
   
   
   
 "What Is This For?" Inquired mrs. Lenox, Looking curiously In. 
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 31 (Long Clams) Pg 40 
   
 "Wall, I Guess We'Re Goin' To Hev Supper By And By; Ef The   World Don'T 
 Come To An End Sooner Than I Expect, We Will, Sure. I'M A Gettin' 
 Ready." 
   
   
   
 "And Is This Place Built And Arranged just For The   Sake Of   Having 
 Supper, As You Call It, Down Here Once In a While?" 
   
   
   
 "Couldn'T Be No Better Arrangement," Said Mr. Sears. "This Stove Draws 
 First-Rate." 
   
   
   
 "But This Is A Great Deal Of   Trouble. I Should Think They Would Take 
 Their Clams Home And Have Them There." 
   
   
   
 "Some Folks Doos," Returned mr. Sears. "These Here Folks Knows What'S 
 Good. Wait Till You See. I Tell You! Long Clams, Fresh Digged, And 
 B'Iled as Soon As They'Re Fetched in, Is Somethin' You Never See Beat." 
   
   
   
 "_Long_ Clams," Repeated the   Lady. "Are They Not The   Usual Sort?" 
   
   
   
 "Depends On What You'Re Used to. These Is Usual Here, And I'M Glad 
 On'T. Round Clams Ain'T Nowheres Alongside O' 'Em." 
   
   
   
 He Went Off To Fill The   Kettle, And The   Lady Returned slowly Round The 
 House To The   Steps And The   Door, Which Were On The   Sea Side. Mr. Lenox 
 Had Gone In and Was Talking to Mrs. Armadale; Mrs. Barclay Was In her 
 Old Position On The   Steps, Looking out To Sea. There Was A Wonderful 
 Light Of   Westering rays On Land And Water; A Rich Gleam From Brown Rock 
 And Green Seaweed; A Glitter And Fresh Sparkle On The   Waves Of   The 
 Incoming tide; An Indescribable Freshness And Life In the   Air And In 
 The Light; A Delicious Invigoration In the   Salt Breath Of   The   Ocean. 
 Mrs. Barclay Sat Drinking it All In, Like One Who Had Been Long 
 Athirst. Mrs. Lenox Stood Looking, Half Cognizant Of   What Was Before 
 Her, More Than Half Impatient And Scornful Of   It; Yet Even On Her The 
 Witchery Of   The   Place And The   Scene Was Not Without Its Effect. 
   
   
   
 "Do You Come Here Often?" She Asked mrs. Barclay. . 
   
   
   
 "Never So Often As I Would Like." 
   
   
   
 "I Should Think You Would Be Tired to Death!" 
   
   
   
 Then, As Mrs. Barclay Made No Answer, She Looked at Her Watch. 
   
   
   
 "Our Train Is Not Till Ten O'Clock," She Remarked. 
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 31 (Long Clams) Pg 41 
 "Plenty Of   Time," Said The   Other. And Then There Was Silence; And The 
 Sun'S Light Grew More Westering, And The   Sparkle On Earth And Water 
 More Fresh, And The   Air Only More And More Sweet; Till Two Figures Were 
 Discerned approaching the   Bathing-House, Carrying hoes Slung Over Their 
 Shoulders, And Baskets, Evidently Filled, In their Hands. They Went 
 Round The   House Towards The   Cook-House; And Mrs. Barclay Came Down From 
 Her Seat And Went To Meet Them There, Mrs. Lenox Following. 
   
   
   
 Two Such Figures! Sun-Bonnets Shading merry Faces, Flushed with 
 Business; Blue Flannel Bathing-Suits Draping very Unpicturesquely The 
 Persons, Bare Feet Stained with Mud,--Baskets Full Of   The   Delicate Fish 
 They Had Been Catching. 
   
   
   
 "What A Quantity!" Exclaimed mrs. Barclay. 
   
   
   
 "Yes, Because I Had Aunt Anne To Help. We Cannot Boil Them All At Once, 
 But That Is All The   Better. They Will Come Hot And Hot." 
   
   
   
 "You Don'T Mean That You Are Going to Cook All Those?" Said Mrs. Lenox 
 Incredulously. 
   
   
   
 "There Will Not Be One Too Many," Said Lois. "You Do Not Know Long 
 Clams Yet." 
   
   
   
 "They Are Ugly Things!" Said The   Other, With A Look Of   Great Disgust 
 Into The   Basket. "I Don'T Think I Could Touch Them." 
   
   
   
 "There'S No Obligation," Responded here Mrs. Marx. She Had Thrown One 
 Basketful Into A Huge Pan, And Was Washing them Free From The   Mud And 
 Sand Of   Their Original Sphere. "It'S A Free Country. But Looks Don'T 
 Prove Much--Neither At The   Shore Nor Anywhere Else. An Ugly Shell Often 
 Covers A Good Fish. So I Find It; And T'Other Way." 
   
   
   
 "How Do You Get Them?" Inquired mr. Lenox, Who Also Came Now To The 
 Door Of   The   Cook-House. Lois Made Her Escape. "I See You Make Use Of 
 Hoes." 
   
   
   
 "Yes," Said Mrs. Marx, Throwing her Clams About In the   Water With Great 
 Energy; "We Dig For 'Em. See Where The   Clam Lives, And Then Drive At 
 Him, And Don'T Be Slow About It; And Then When The   Clam Spits At You, 
 You Know You'Re On His Heels--Or On His Track, I Should Say; And You 
 Take Care Of   Your Eyes And Go Ahead, Till You Catch Up With Him; And 
 Then You'Ve Got Him. And Every One You Throw Into Your Basket You Feel 
 Gladder And Gladder; In fact, As The   Basket Grows Heavy, Your Heart 
 Grows Light. And That'S Diggin' For Long Clams." 
   
   
   
 "The Best Part Of   It Is The   Hunt, Isn'T It?" 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 31 (Long Clams) Pg 42 
 "I'Ll Take Your Opinion On That After Supper." 
   
   
   
 Mr. Lenox Laughed, And He And His Wife Sauntered round To The   Front 
 Again. The   Freshness, The   Sweetness, The   Bright Rich Colouring of   Sky 
 And Water And Land, The   Stillness, The   Strangeness, The   Novelty, All 
 Moved mr. Lenox To Say, 
   
   
   
 "I Would Not Have Missed this For A Hundred dollars!" 
   
   
   
 "Missed what?" Asked his Wife. 
   
   
   
 "This Whole Afternoon." 
   
   
   
 "It'S One Way That People Live, I Suppose." 
   
   
   
 "Yes, For They Really Do Live; There Is No Stagnation; That Is One 
 Thing that Strikes Me." 
   
   
   
 "Don'T You Want To Buy A Farm Here, And Settle Down?" Asked mrs. Lenox 
 Scornfully. "Live On Hymns And Long Clams?" 
   
   
   
 Meanwhile The   Interior Of   The   Bathing-House Was Changing its Aspect. 
 Part Of   The   Partition Of   Boards Had Been Removed and A Long Table 
 Improvised, Running the   Length Of   The   House, And Made Of   Planks Laid On 
 Trestles. White Cloths Hid The   Rudeness Of   This Board, And Dishes And 
 Cups And Viands Were Giving it A Most Hospitable Look. A Whiff Of 
 Coffee Aroma Came Now And Then Through The   Door At The   Back Of   The 
 House, Which Opened near The   Place Of   Cookery; Piles Of   White Bread And 
 Brown Gingerbread, And Golden Butter And Rosy Ham And New Cheese, Made 
 A Most Abundant And Inviting display; And, After The   Guests Were 
 Seated, Mr. Sears Came In bearing a Great Dish Of   The   Clams, Smoking 
 Hot. 
   
   
   
 Well, Mrs. Lenox Was Hungry, Through The   Combined effects Of   Salt Air 
 And An Early Dinner; She Found Bread And Butter And Coffee And Ham Most 
 Excellent, But Looked askance At The   Dish Of   Clams; Which, However, She 
 Saw Emptied with Astonishing rapidity. Noticing at Last A Striking heap 
 Of Shells Beside Her Husband'S Plate, The   Lady'S Fastidiousness Gave 
 Way To Curiosity; And After That,--It Was Well That Another Big Dishful 
 Was Coming, Or _Somebody_ Would Have Been Obliged to Go Short. 
   
   
   
 At Ten O'Clock That Evening mr. And Mrs. Lenox Took The   Night Train To 
 Boston. 
   
   
   
 "I Never Passed a Pleasanter Afternoon In my Life," Was The   Gentleman'S 
 Comment As The   Train Started. 
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 31 (Long Clams) Pg 43 
 "Pretty Faces Go A Great Way Always With You Men!" Answered his Wife. 
   
   
   
 "There Is Something more Than A Pretty Face There. And She Is 
 Improved--Changed, Somehow--Since A Year Ago. What Do You Think Now Of 
 Your Brother'S Choice, Julia?" 
   
   
   
 "It Would Have Been His Ruin!" Said The   Lady Violently. 
   
   
   
 "I Declare I Doubt It. I Am Afraid He'Ll Never Find A Better. I Am 
 Afraid You Have Done Him Mistaken Service." 
   
   
   
 "George, This Girl Is _Nobody_." 
   
   
   
 "She Is A Lady. And She Is Intelligent, And She Is Cultivated, And She 
 Has Excellent Manners. I See No Fault At All To Be Found. Tom Does Not 
 Need money." 
   
   
   
 "She Is Nobody, Nevertheless, George! It Would Have Been Miserable For 
 Tom To Lose All The   Advantage He Is Going to Have With His Wife, And To 
 Marry This Girl Whom No One Knows, And Who Knows Nobody." 
   
   
   
 "I Am Sorry For Poor Tom!" 
   
   
   
 "George, You Are Very Provoking. Tom Will Live To Thank Mamma And Me 
 All His Life." 
   
   
   
 "Do You Know, I Don'T Believe It. I Am Glad To See _She'S_ All Right, 
 Anyhow. I Was Afraid At The   Isles She Might Have Been Bitten." 
   
   
   
 "You Don'T Know Anything about It," Returned his Wife Sharply. "Women 
 Don'T Show. _I_ Think She Was Taken With Tom." 
   
   
   
 "I Hope Not!" Said The   Gentleman; "That'S All I Have To Say." 
   
   
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 32 (A Visitor) Pg 44 
 The Autumn Coolness Had Replaced the   Heat Of   The   Dog Days, And Hay 
 Harvest And Grain Harvest Were Long Over, And There Began To Be A 
 Suspicion Of   Frost In the   Air. Lois Had Gathered in her Pears, And Was 
 Garnering her Apples. There Were Two Or Three Famous Apple Trees In the 
 Lothrop Old Garden, The   Fruit Of   Which Kept Sound And Sweet All Through 
 The Winter, And Was Very Good To Eat. 
   
   
   
 One Fair Day In october, Mrs. Barclay, Wanting to Speak With Lois, Was 
 Directed to The   Garden And Sought Her There. The   Day Was As Mild As 
 Summer, Without Summer'S Passion, And Without Spring'S Impulses Of   Hope 
 And Action. A Quiet Day; The   Air Was Still; The   Light Was Mellow, Not 
 Brilliant; The   Sky Was Clear, But No Longer Of   An Intense Blue; The 
 Little Racks Of   Cloud Were Lying supine On Its Calm Depths, Apparently 
 Having nowhere To Go And Nothing to Do. The   Driving, Sweeping, Changing 
 Forms Of   Vapour, Which In spring had Come With Rain And In summer Had 
 Come With Thunder, Had All Disappeared; And These Little Delicate Lines 
 Of Cloud Lay Purposeless And At Rest On The   Blue. Nature Had Done Her 
 Work For The   Year; She Had Grown The   Grass And Ripened the   Grain, And 
 Manufactured the   Wonderful Juices In the   Tissues Of   The   Fruit, And Laid 
 A New Growth Of   Woody Fibre Round The   Heart Of   The   Trees. She Was 
 Resting now, As It Were, Content With Her Work. And So Seemed lois To 
 Be Doing, At The   Moment Mrs. Barclay Entered the   Garden. It Was Unusual 
 To Find Her So. I Suppose The   Witching beauty Of   The   Day Beguiled her. 
 But It Was Of   Another Beauty Mrs. Barclay Thought, As She Drew Near The 
 Girl. 
   
   
   
 A Short Ladder Stood Under One Of   The   Apple Trees, Upon Which Lois Had 
 Been Mounting to Pluck Her Fruit. On The   Ground Below Stood Two Large 
 Baskets, Full Now Of   The   Ruddy Apples, Shining and Beautiful. Beside 
 Them, On The   Dry Turf, Sat Lois With Her Hands In her Lap; And Mrs. 
 Barclay Wondered at Her As She Drew Near. 
   
   
   
 Yet It Is Not Too Easy To Tell Why, At Least So As To Make The   Reader 
 Get At The   Sense Of   The   Words. I Have The   Girl'S Image Before My Eyes, 
 Mentally, But Words Have Neither Form Nor Colour; How Shall I Paint 
 With Them? It Was Not The   Beauty Of   Mere Form And Colour, Either, That 
 Struck Mrs. Barclay In lois'S Face. You May Easily See More Regular 
 Features And More Dazzling complexion. It Was Not Any Particular 
 Brilliance Of   Eye, Or Piquancy Of   Expression. There Was A Soundness And 
 Fulness Of   Young Life; That Is Not So Uncommon Either. There Was A 
 Steadfast Strength And Sweetness Of   Nature. There Was An Unconscious, 
 Innocent Grace, That Is Exceedingly Rare. And A High, Noble Expression 
 Of Countenance And Air And Movement, Such As Can Belong Only To One 
 Whose Thoughts And Aims Never Descend To Pettinesses; Who Assimilates 
 Nobility By Being always Concerned with What Is Noble. And Then, The 
 Face Was Very Fair; The   Ruddy Brown Hair Very Rich And Abundant; The 
 Figure Graceful And Good; All The   Spiritual Beauty I Have Been 
 Endeavouring to Describe Had A Favouring groundwork Of   Nature To 
 Display Itself Upon. Mrs. Barclay'S Steps Grew Slower And Slower As She 
 Came Near, That She Might Prolong The   View, Which To Her Was So Lovely. 
 Then Lois Looked at Her And Slightly Smiled. 
   
   
   
 "Lois, My Dear, What Are You Doing?" 
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 32 (A Visitor) Pg 45 
 "Not Exactly Nothing, Mrs. Barclay; Though It Looks Like It. Such A Day 
 One Cannot Bear To Go In-Doors!" 
   
   
   
 "You Are Gathering your Apples?" 
   
   
   
 "I Have Got Done For To-Day." 
   
   
   
 "What Are You Studying, Here Beside Your Baskets? What Beautiful 
 Apples!" 
   
   
   
 "Aren'T They? These Are Our Royal Reddings; They Are Good For Eating 
 And Cooking, And They Keep Perfectly. If Only They Are Picked off By 
 Hand." 
   
   
   
 "What Were You Studying, Lois? May I Not Know?" Mrs. Barclay Took An 
 Apple And A Seat On The   Turf Beside The   Girl. 
   
   
   
 "Hardly Studying. Only Musing--As Such A Day Makes One Muse. I Was 
 Thinking, Mrs. Barclay, What Use I Could Make Of   My Life." 
   
   
   
 "What _Use?_ Can You Make Better Use Of   It Than You Are Doing, In 
 Taking care Of   Mrs. Armadale?" 
   
   
   
 "Yes--As Things Are Now. But In the   Common Course Of   Things I Should 
 Outlive Grandmamma." 
   
   
   
 "Then You Will Marry Somebody, And Take Care Of   Him." 
   
   
   
 "Very Unlikely, I Think." 
   
   
   
 "May I Ask, Why?" 
   
   
   
 "I Do Not Know Anybody That Is The   Sort Of   Man I Could Marry." 
   
   
   
 "What Do You Require?" Asked mrs. Barclay. 
   
   
   
 "A Great Deal, I Suppose," Said Lois Slowly. "I Have Never Studied 
 That; I Was Not Studying it Just Now. But I Was Thinking, What Might Be 
 The Best Way Of   Making myself Of   Some Use In the   World. Foolish, Too." 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 32 (A Visitor) Pg 46 
 "Why So?" 
   
   
   
 "It Is No Use For Us To Lay Plans For Our Lives; Not Much Use For Us To 
 Lay Plans For Anything. They Are Pretty Sure To Be Broken Up." 
   
   
   
 "Yes," Said Mrs. Barclay, Sighing. "I Wonder Why!" 
   
   
   
 "I Suppose, Because They Do Not Fall In with God'S Plans For Us." 
   
   
   
 "His Plans For Us," Repeated mrs. Barclay Slowly. "Do You Believe In 
 Such Things? That Would Mean, Individual Plans, Lois; For You 
 Individually, And For Me?" 
   
   
   
 "Yes, Mrs. Barclay--That Is What I Believe." 
   
   
   
 "It Is Incomprehensible To Me." 
   
   
   
 "Why Should It Be?" 
   
   
   
 "To Think That The   Highest Should Concern Him Self With Such Small 
 Details." 
   
   
   
 "It Is Just Because He Is The   Highest, And So High, That He Can. 
 Besides--Do We Know What _Are_ Small Details?" 
   
   
   
 "But Why Should He Care What Becomes Of   Us?" Said Mrs. Barclay Gloomily. 
   
   
   
 "O, Do You Ask That? When He Is Love Itself, And Would Have The   Very 
 Best Things For Each One Of   Us?" 
   
   
   
 "We Don'T Have Them, I Am Sure." 
   
   
   
 "Because We Will Not, Then. To Have Them, We Must Fall In with His 
 Plans." 
   
   
   
 "My Dear Lois, Do You Know That You Are Talking the   Profoundest 
 Mysteries?" 
   
   
   
 "No. They Are Not Mysteries To Me. The   Bible Says All I Have Been 
 Saying." 
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 32 (A Visitor) Pg 47 
   
   
 "That Is Sufficient For You, And You Do Not Stop To Look Into The 
 Mystery. Lois, It Is _All_ Mystery. Look At All The   Wretched ruined 
 Lives One Sees; What Becomes Of   Those Plans For Good For Them?" 
   
   
   
 "Failed, Mrs. Barclay; Because Of   The   People'S Unwillingness To Come 
 Into The   Plans." 
   
   
   
 "They Do Not Know Them!" 
   
   
   
 "No, But They Do Know The   Steps Which Lead Into Them, And Those Steps 
 They Refuse To Take." 
   
   
   
 "I Do Not Understand You. What Steps?" 
   
   
   
 "The Lord Does Not Show Us His Plans. He Shows Us, One By One, The 
 Steps He Bids Us Take. If We Take Them, One By One, They Will Bring us 
 Into All That God Has Purposed and Meant For Us--The Very Best That 
 Could Come To Us." 
   
   
   
 "And You Think His Plans And Purposes Could Be Overthrown?" 
   
   
   
 "Why, Certainly. Else What Mean Christ'S Lamentations Over Jerusalem? 
 'O Jerusalem,... How Often Would I Have Gathered thy Children Together, 
 Even As A Hen Gathereth Her Brood Under Her Wings, And Ye Would Not.' I 
 Would--Ye Would Not; And The   Choice Lies With Us." 
   
   
   
 "And Suppose A Person Falls In with These Plans, As You Say, Step By 
 Step?" 
   
   
   
 "O, Then It Is All Good," Said Lois; "The Way And The   End; All Good. 
 There Is No Mistake Nor Misadventure." 
   
   
   
 "Nor Disaster?" 
   
   
   
 "Not What Turns Out To Be Such." 
   
   
   
 "Lois," Said Mrs. Barclay, After A Thoughtful Pause, "You Are A Very 
 Happy Person!" 
   
   
   
 "Yes," Said Lois, Smiling; "And I Have Just Told You The   Reason. Don'T 
 You See? I Have No Care About Anything." 
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 32 (A Visitor) Pg 48 
   
 "On Your Principles, I Do Not See What Need you Had To Consider Your 
 Future Way Of   Life; To Speculate About It, I Mean." 
   
   
   
 "No," Said Lois, Rising, "I Have Not. Only Sometimes One Must Look A 
 Little Carefully At The   Parting of   The   Ways, To See Which Road One Is 
 Meant To Take." 
   
   
   
 "Sit Down Again. I Did Not Come Out Here To Talk Of   All This. I Wanted 
 To Ask You Something." 
   
   
   
 Lois Sat Down. 
   
   
   
 "I Came To Ask A Favour." 
   
   
   
 "How Could You, Mrs. Barclay? I Mean, Nothing we Could Do Could Be A 
 _Favour_ To You!" 
   
   
   
 "Yes, It Could. I Have A Friend That Wants To Come To See Me." 
   
   
   
 "Well?" 
   
   
   
 "May He Come?" 
   
   
   
 "Why, Of   Course." 
   
   
   
 "But It Is A Gentleman." 
   
   
   
 "Well," Said Lois Again, Smiling, "We Have No Objections To Gentlemen." 
   
   
   
 "It Is A Friend Whom I Have Not Seen In a Very Long While; A Dear 
 Friend; A Dear Friend Of   My Husband'S In years Gone By. He Has Just 
 Returned from Europe; And He Writes To Ask If He May Call On His Way To 
 Boston And Spend Sunday With Me." 
   
   
   
 "He Shall Be Very Welcome, Mrs. Barclay; And We Will Try To Make Him 
 Comfortable." 
   
   
   
 "O, Comfortable! There Is No Question Of   That. But Will It Not Be At 
 All Inconvenient?" 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 32 (A Visitor) Pg 49 
 "Not In the   Least." 
   
   
   
 "Then He May Come?" 
   
   
   
 "Certainly. When Does He Wish To Come?" 
   
   
   
 "This Week--Saturday. His Name Is Dillwyn." 
   
   
   
 "Dillwyn!" Lois Repeated. "Dillwyn? I Saw A Mr. Dillwyn At Mrs. 
 Wishart'S Once Or Twice." 
   
   
   
 "It Must Be The   Same. I Do Not Know Of   Two. And He Knows Mrs. Wishart. 
 So You Remember Him? What Do You Remember About Him?" 
   
   
   
 "Not Much. I Have An Impression That He Knows A Great Deal, And Has 
 Very Pleasant Manners." 
   
   
   
 "Quite Right. That Is The   Man. So He May Come? Thank You." 
   
   
   
 Lois Took Up One Of   Her Baskets Of   Apples And Carried it Into The 
 House, Where She Deposited it At Mrs. Armadale'S Feet. 
   
   
   
 "They Are Beautiful This Year, Aren'T They, Mother? Girls, We Are Going 
 To Have A Visitor." 
   
   
   
 Charity Was Brushing up The   Floor; The   Broom Paused. Madge Was Sewing; 
 The Needle Remained drawn Out. Both Looked at Lois. 
   
   
   
 "A Visitor!" Came From Both Pairs Of   Lips. 
   
   
   
 "Yes, Indeed. A Visitor. A Gentleman. And He Is Coming to Stay Over 
 Sunday. So, Charry, You Must See And Have Things Very Special. And So 
 Must I." 
   
   
   
 "A Gentleman! Who Is He? Uncle Tim?" 
   
   
   
 "Not A Bit Of   It. A Young, At Least A Much Younger, Gentleman; A 
 Travelled gentleman; An Elegant Gentleman. A Friend Of   Mrs. Barclay." 
   
   
   
 "What Are We To Do With Him?" 
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 32 (A Visitor) Pg 50 
   
 "Nothing. Nothing whatever. We Have Nothing to Do With Him, And 
 Couldn'T Do It If We Had." 
   
   
   
 "You Needn'T Laugh. We Have Got To Lodge Him And Feed him." 
   
   
   
 "That'S Easy. I'Ll Put The   White Spread On The   Bed in the   Spare Room; 
 And You May Get Out Your Pickles." 
   
   
   
 "Pickles! Is He Fond Of   Pickles?" 
   
   
   
 "I Don'T Know!" Said Lois, Laughing still. "I Have An Impression He Is 
 A Man Who Likes All Sorts Of   Nice Things." 
   
   
   
 "I Hate Men Who Like Nice Things! But, Lois!--There Will Be Saturday 
 Tea, And Sunday Breakfast And Dinner And Supper, And Monday Morning 
 Breakfast." 
   
   
   
 "Perhaps Monday Dinner." 
   
   
   
 "O, He Can'T Stay To Dinner." 
   
   
   
 "Why Not?" 
   
   
   
 "It Is Washing day." 
   
   
   
 "My Dear Charry! To Such Men Monday Is Just Like All Other Days; And 
 Washing is--Well, Of   Course, A Necessity, But It Is Done By Fairies, Or 
 It Might Be, For All They Know About It." 
   
   
   
 "There'S Five Meals Anyhow," Charity Went On.--"Wouldn'T It Be A Good 
 Plan To Get Uncle Tim To Be Here?" 
   
   
   
 "What For?" 
   
   
   
 "Why, We Haven'T A Man In the   House." 
   
   
   
 "What Then?" 
   
   
   
 "Who'Ll Talk To Him?" 
 
 
 
 Chapter 32 (A Visitor) Pg 51 
 "Mrs. Barclay Will Take Care Of   That. You, Charity Dear, See To Your 
 Pickles." 
   
   
   
 "I Don'T Know What You Mean," Said Charity Fretfully. "What Are We 
 Going to Have For Dinner, Sunday? I Could Fricassee A Pair Of   Chickens." 
   
   
   
 "No, Charity, You Couldn'T. Sunday Is Sunday, Just As Much With Mr. 
 Dillwyn Here." 
   
   
   
 "Dillwyn!" Said Madge. "I'Ve Heard You Speak Of   Him." 
   
   
   
 "Very Likely. I Saw Him Once Or Twice In my New York Days." 
   
   
   
 "And He Gave You Lunch." 
   
   
   
 "Mrs. Wishart And Me. Yes. And A Good Lunch It Was. That'S Why I Spoke 
 Of Pickles, Charity. Do The   Very Best You Can." 
   
   
   
 "I Cannot Do My Best, Unless I Can Cook The   Chickens," Said Charity, 
 Who All This While Stood Leaning upon Her Broom. "I Might Do It For 
 Once." 
   
   
   
 "Where Is Your Leave To Do Wrong Once?" 
   
   
   
 "But This Is A Particular Occasion--You May Call It A Necessity; And 
 Necessity Makes An Exception." 
   
   
   
 "What Is The   Necessity, Charity?" Said Mrs. Armadale, Who Until Now Had 
 Not Spoken. 
   
   
   
 "Why, Grandma, You Want To Treat A Stranger Well?" 
   
   
   
 "With Whatever I Have Got To Give Him. But Sunday Time Isn'T Mine To 
 Give." 
   
   
   
 "But _Necessary_ Things, Grandma?--We May Do Necessary Things?" 
   
   
   
 "What Have You Got In the   House?" 
 
 
 
 Chapter 32 (A Visitor) Pg 52 
   
 "Nothing on Earth, Except A Ham To Boil. Cold Ham,--That'S All. Do You 
 Think That'S Enough?" 
   
   
   
 "It Won'T Hurt Him To Dine On Cold Ham," The   Old Lady Said Complacently. 
   
   
   
 "Why Don'T You Cook Your Chickens And Have Them Cold Too?" Lois Asked. 
   
   
   
 "Cold Fricassee Ain'T Worth A Cent." 
   
   
   
 "Cook Them Some Other Way. Roast Them,--Or-- Give Them To Me, And I'Ll 
 Do Them For You! I'Ll Do Them, Charity. Then With Your Nice Bread, And 
 Apple Sauce, And Potatoes, And Some Of   My Pears And Apples, And A 
 Pumpkin Pie, Charity, And Coffee,--We Shall Do Very Well. Mr. Dillwyn 
 Has Made A Worse Dinner In the   Course Of   His Wanderings, I'Ll Undertake 
 To Maintain." 
   
   
   
 "What Shall I Have For Supper?" Charity Asked doubtfully. "Supper Comes 
 First." 
   
   
   
 "Shortcake. And Some Of   Your Cold Ham. And Stew Up Some Quinces And 
 Apples Together, Cherry. You Don'T Want Anything more,--Or Better." 
   
   
   
 "Do You Think He Will Understand Having a Cold Dinner, Sunday?" Charity 
 Asked. "Men Make So Much Of   Hot Dinners." 
   
   
   
 "What Does It Signify, My Dear, Whether He Understands It Or Not?" Said 
 Mrs. Armadale. "What We Have To Do, Is What The   Lord Tells Us To Do. 
 That Is All You Need mind." 
   
   
   
 "I Mind What Folks Think, Though," Said Charity. "Mrs. Barclay'S Friend 
 Especially." 
   
   
   
 "I Do Not Think He Will Notice It," Said Simple Mrs. Armadale. 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 33 (The Value Of Money) Pg 53 
 There Was A Little More Bustle In the   House Than Usual During the   Next 
 Two Days; And The   Spare Room Was No Doubt Put In very Particular Order, 
 With The   Best Of   All The   House Could Furnish On The   Bed and 
 Toilet-Table. Pantry And Larder Also Were Well Stocked; And Lois Was 
 Just Watching the   Preparation Of   Her Chickens, Saturday Evening, And 
 Therefore In the   Kitchen, When Mr. Dillwyn Came To The   Door. Mrs. 
 Barclay Herself Let Him In, And Brought Him Into Her Own Warm, 
 Comfortable, Luxurious-Looking sitting-Room. The   Evening was Falling 
 Dusk, So That The   Little Wood Lire In mrs. Barclay'S Chimney Had 
 Opportunity To Display Itself, And I Might Say, The   Room Too; Which 
 Never Could Have Showed to Better Advantage. The   Flickering light 
 Danced back Again From Gilded books, From The   Polished case Of   The 
 Piano, From Picture Frames, And Pictures, And Piles Of   Music, And 
 Comfortable Easy-Chairs Standing invitingly, And Trinkets Of   Art Or 
 Curiosity; An Unrolled engraving in one Place, A Stereoscope In 
 Another, A Work-Basket, And The   Bright Brass Stand Of   A Microscope. 
   
   
   
 The Greeting was Warm Between The   Two Friends; And Then Mrs. Barclay 
 Sat Down And Surveyed her Visitor, Whom She Had Not Seen For So Long. 
 He Was Not A Beauty Of   Tom Caruthers' Sort, But He Was What I Think 
 Better; Manly And Intelligent, And With An Air And Bearing of   Frank 
 Nobleness Which Became Him Exceedingly. That He Was A Man With A 
 Serious Purpose In life, Or Any Object Of   Earnest Pursuit, You Would 
 Not Have Supposed; And That Character Had Never Belonged to Him. Mrs. 
 Barclay, Looking at Him, Could Not See Any Sign That It Was His Now. 
 Look And Manner Were Easy And Careless As Of   Old. 
   
   
   
 "You Are Not Changed," She Remarked. 
   
   
   
 "What Should Change Me?" Said He, While His Eye Ran Rapidly Over The 
 Apartment. "And You?--You Do Not Look As If Life Was Stagnating here." 
   
   
   
 "It Does Not Stagnate. I Never Was Further From Stagnation In all My 
 Life." 
   
   
   
 "And Yet Shampuashuh Is In a Corner!" 
   
   
   
 "Is Not Most Of   The   Work Of   The   World Done In corners? It Is Not The 
 Butterfly, But The   Coral Insect, That Lays Foundations And Lifts Up 
 Islands Out Of   The   Sea." 
   
   
   
 "You Are Not A Coral Insect Any More Than I Am A Butterfly," Said 
 Dillwyn, Laughing. 
   
   
   
 "Rather More." 
   
   
   
 "I Acknowledge It, Thankfully. And I Am Rejoiced to Know From Your 
 
 
 
 Chapter 33 (The Value Of Money) Pg 54 
 Letters That The   Seclusion Has Been Without Any Evil Consequences To 
 Yourself. It Has Been Pleasant?" 
   
   
   
 "Royally Pleasant. I Have Delighted in my Building; Even Although I 
 Could Not Tell Whether My Island Would Not Prove A Dangerous One To 
 Mariners." 
   
   
   
 "I Have Just Been Having a Discourse On That Subject With My Sister. I 
 Think One'S Sisters Are--I Beg Your Pardon!--The Mischief. Tom'S Sister 
 Has Done For Him; And Mine Is Very Eager To Take Care Of   Me." 
   
   
   
 "Did You Consult Her?" Asked mrs. Barclay, With Surprise. 
   
   
   
 "Nothing of   The   Kind! I Merely Told Her I Was Coming up Here To See 
 You. A Few Questions Followed, As To What You Were Doing here,--Which I 
 Did Not Tell Her, By The   Way,--And She Hit The   Bull'S Eye With The 
 Instinctive Accuracy Of   A Woman; Poured out Upon Me In consequence A 
 Lecture Upon Imprudence. Of   Course I Confessed to Nothing, But That 
 Mattered not. All That Tom'S Sister Urged upon Him, My Good Sister 
 Pressed upon Me." 
   
   
   
 "So Did I Once, Did I Not?" 
   
   
   
 "You Are Not Going to Repeat It?" 
   
   
   
 "No; That Is Over, For Me. I Know Better. But, Philip, I Do Not See The 
 Way Very Clear Before You." 
   
   
   
 He Left The   Matter There, And Went Off Into A Talk With Her Upon 
 Widely-Different Subjects, Touching or Growing out Of   His Travels And 
 Experiences During the   Last Year And A Half. The   Twilight Darkened, And 
 The Fire Brightened, And In the   Light Of   The   Fire The   Two Sat And 
 Talked; Till A Door Opened, And In the   Same Flickering shine A Figure 
 Presented itself Which Mr. Dillwyn Remembered. Though Now It Was 
 Clothed in nothing finer Than A Dark Calico, And Round Her Shoulders A 
 Little White Worsted shawl Was Twisted. Mrs. Barclay Began A Sentence 
 Of Introduction, But Mr. Dillwyn Cut Her Short. 
   
   
   
 "Do Not Do Me Such Dishonour," He Said. "Must I Suppose That Miss 
 Lothrop Has Forgotten Me?" 
   
   
   
 "Not At All, Mr. Dillwyn," Said Lois Frankly; "I Remember You Very 
 Well. Tea Will Be Ready In a Minute--Would You Like To See Your Room 
 First?" 
   
   
   
 "You Are Too Kind, To Receive Me!" 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 33 (The Value Of Money) Pg 55 
 "It Is A Pleasure. You Are Mrs. Barclay'S Friend, And She Is At Home 
 Here; I Will Get A Light." 
   
   
   
 Which She Did, And Mr. Dillwyn, Seeing he Could Not Find His Own Way, 
 Was Obliged to Accept Her Services And See Her Trip Up The   Stairs 
 Before Him. At The   Door She Handed him The   Light And Ran Down Again. 
 There Was A Fire Here Too--A Wood Fire; Blazing hospitably, And 
 Throwing its Cheery Light Upon A Wide, Pleasant, Country Room, Not Like 
 What Mr. Dillwyn Was Accustomed to, But It Seemed the   More Hospitable. 
 Nothing handsome There; No Articles Of   Luxury (Beside The   Fire); The 
 Reflection Of   The   Blaze Came Back From Dark Old-Fashioned chairs And 
 Chests Of   Drawers, Dark Chintz Hangings To Windows And Bed, White 
 Counterpane And Napery, With A Sonsy, Sober, Quiet Air Of   Comfort; And 
 The Air Was Fresh And Sweet As Air Should Be, And As Air Can Only Be At 
 A Distance From The   Smoke Of   Many Chimneys And The   Congregated 
 Habitations Of   Many Human Beings. I Do Not Think Mr. Dillwyn Spent Much 
 Attention Upon These Details; Yet He Felt Himself In a Sound, Clear, 
 Healthy Atmosphere, Socially As Well As Physically; Also Had A 
 Perception That It Was Very Far Removed from That In which He Had Lived 
 And Breathed hitherto. How Simply That Girl Had Lighted him Up The 
 Stairs, And Given Him His Brass Candlestick At The   Door Of   His Room! 
 What _À Plomb_ Could Have Been More Perfect! I Do Not Mean To Imply 
 That Mr. Dillwyn Knew The   Candlestick Was Brass; I Am Afraid There Was 
 A Glamour Over His Eyes Which Made It Seem Golden. 
   
   
   
 He Found Mrs. Barclay Seated in a Very Thoughtful Attitude Before Her 
 Fire, When He Came Down Again; But Just Then The   Door Of   The   Other Room 
 Was Opened, And They Were Called in to Tea. 
   
   
   
 The Family Were In rather Gala Trim. Lois, As I Said, Wore Indeed only 
 A Dark Print Dress, With Her White Fichu Over It; But Charity Had Put 
 On Her Best Silk, And Madge Had Stuck Two Golden Chrysanthemums In her 
 Dark Hair (With Excellent Effect), And Mrs. Armadale Was Stately In her 
 Best Cap. Alas! Philip Dillwyn Did Not Know What Any Of   Them Had On. He 
 Was Placed next To Mrs. Armadale, And All Supper Time His Special 
 Attention, So Far As Appeared, Was Given To The   Old Lady. He Talked to 
 Her, And He Served her, With An Easy, Pleasant Grace, And Without At 
 All Putting himself Forward Or Taking the   Part Of   The   Distinguished 
 Stranger. It Was Simply Good Will And Good Breeding; However, It 
 Produced a Great Effect. 
   
   
   
 "The Air Up Here Is Delicious!" He Remarked, After He Had Attended to 
 All The   Old Lady'S Immediate Wants, And Applied himself To His Own 
 Supper. "It Gives One A Tremendous Appetite." 
   
   
   
 "I Allays Like To See Folks Eat," Said Mrs. Armadale. "After One'S Done 
 The Gettin' Things Ready, I Hate To Have It All For Nothin'." 
   
   
   
 "It Shall Not Be For Nothing this Time, As Far As I Am Concerned." 
   
   
   
 "Ain'T The   Air Good In new York?" Mrs. Armadale Next Asked. 
   
   
   
 "I Do Not Think It Ever Was So Sweet As This. But When You Crowd A 
 Million Or So Of   People Into Room That Is Only Enough For A Thousand, 
 You Can Guess What The   Consequences Must Be." 
 
 
 
 Chapter 33 (The Value Of Money) Pg 56 
   
   
 "What Do They Crowd Up So For, Then?" 
   
   
   
 "It Must Be The   Case In a Great City." 
   
   
   
 "I Don'T See The   Sense O' That," Said Mrs. Armadale. "Ain'T The   World 
 Big Enough?" 
   
   
   
 "Far Too Big," Said Mr. Dillwyn. "You See, When People'S Time Is Very 
 Valuable, They Cannot Afford To Spend Too Much Of   It In running about 
 After Each Other." 
   
   
   
 "What Makes Their Time Worth Any More'N Our'N?" 
   
   
   
 "They Are Making money So Fast With It." 
   
   
   
 "And Is _That_ What Makes Folks' Time Valeyable?" 
   
   
   
 "In Their Opinion, Madam." 
   
   
   
 "I Never Could See No Use In havin' Much Money," Said The   Old Lady. 
   
   
   
 "But There Comes A Question," Said Dillwyn. "What Is 'Much'?" 
   
   
   
 "More'N Enough, I Should Say." 
   
   
   
 "Enough For What? That Also Must Be Settled." 
   
   
   
 "I'M An Old-Fashioned woman," Said The   Old Lady, "And I Go By The 
 Old-Fashionedst Book In the   World. That Says, 'We Brought Nothing into 
 This World, And We Can Carry Nothing out; Therefore, Having food And 
 Raiment, Let Us Be Therewith Content.'" 
   
   
   
 "But, Again, What Sort Of   Food, And What Sort Of   Raiment?" Urged the 
 Gentleman Pleasantly. "For Instance; Would You Be Content To Exchange 
 This Delicious Manufacture,--Which Seems To Me Rather Like Ambrosia 
 Than Common Food,--For Some Of   The   Black Bread Of   Norway? With No 
 Qualification Of   Golden Butter? Or For Scotch Oatmeal Bannocks? Or For 
 Sour Corn Cake?" 
   
   
   
 "I Would Be Quite Content, If It Was The   Lord'S Will," Said The   Old 
 
 
 
 Chapter 33 (The Value Of Money) Pg 57 
 Lady. "There'S No Obligation Upon Anybody To Have It _Sour_." 
   
   
   
 Mr. Dillwyn Laughed gently. "I Can Fancy," He Said, "That You Never 
 Would Allow Such A Dereliction In duty. But, Beside Having the   Bread 
 Sweet, Is It Not Allowed us To Have The   Best We Can Get?" 
   
   
   
 "The Best We Can _Make_," Answered mrs. Armadale; "I Believe In 
 Everybody Doin' The   Best He Kin With What He Has Got To Work With; But 
 Food Ain'T Worth So Much That We Should Pay A Large Price For It." 
   
   
   
 The Gentleman'S Eye Glanced with A Scarcely Perceptible Movement Over 
 The Table At Which He Was Sitting. Bread, Indeed, In piles Of   White 
 Flakiness; And Butter; But Besides, There Was The   Cold Ham In delicate 
 Slices, And Excellent-Looking cheese, And Apples In a Sort Of   Beautiful 
 Golden Confection, And Cake Of   Superb Colour And Texture; A Pitcher Of 
 Milk That Was Rosy Sweet, And Coffee Rich With Cream. The   Glance That 
 Took All This In was Slight And Swift, And Yet The   Old Lady Was Quick 
 Enough To See And Understand It. 
   
   
   
 "Yes," She Said, "It'S All Our'N, All There Is On The   Table. Our Cow 
 Eats Our Own Grass, And Madge, My Daughter, Makes The   Butter And The 
 Cheese. We'Ve Raised and Cured our Own Pork; And The   Wheat That Makes 
 The Bread Is Grown On Our Ground Too; We Farm It Out On Shares; And It 
 Is Ground At A Mill About Four Miles Off. Our Hens Lay Our Eggs; It'S 
 All From Home." 
   
   
   
 "But Suppose The   Case Of   People Who Have No Ground, Nor Hens, Nor Pork, 
 Nor Cow? They Must Buy." 
   
   
   
 "Of Course," Said The   Old Lady; "Everybody Ain'T Farmers." 
   
   
   
 "I Am Ready To Wish I Was One," Said Dillwyn. "But Even Then, I 
 Confess, I Should Want Coffee And Tea And Sugar--As I See You. Do." 
   
   
   
 "Well, Those Things Don'T Grow In america," Said Mrs. Armadale. 
   
   
   
 "And Spice Don'T, Neither, Mother," Observed charity. 
   
   
   
 "So It Appears That Even You Send Abroad For Luxuries," Mr. Dillwyn 
 Went On. "And Why Not? And The   Question Is, Where Shall We Stop? If I 
 Want Coffee, I Must Have Money To Buy It, And The   Better The   Coffee The 
 More Money; And The   Same With Tea. In cities We Must Buy All We Use Or 
 Consume, Unless One Is A Butcher Or A Baker. May I Not Try To Get More 
 Money, In order That I May Have Better Things? We Have Got Round To Our 
 Starting-Point." 
   
   
   
 "'They That Will Be Rich Fall Into Temptation And A Snare,'" Mrs. 
 Armadale Said Quietly. 
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 33 (The Value Of Money) Pg 58 
 "Then Where Is The   Line?--Miss Lois, You Are Smiling. Is It At My 
 Stupidity?" 
   
   
   
 "No," Said Lois. "I Was Thinking of   A Lunch--Such As I Have Seen It--In 
 One Of   The   Great New York Hotels." 
   
   
   
 "Well?" Said He, Without Betraying on His Own Part Any Recollection; 
 "How Does That Come In? By Way Of   Illustrating mrs. Armadale, Or Me?" 
   
   
   
 "I Seem To Remember A Number Of   Things That Illustrate Both," Said 
 Lois; "But As I Profited by Them At The   Time, It Would Be Ungrateful In 
 Me To Instance Them Now." 
   
   
   
 "You Profited by Them With Pleasure, Or Otherwise?" 
   
   
   
 "Not Otherwise. I Was Very Hungry." 
   
   
   
 "You Evade My Question, However." 
   
   
   
 "I Will Not. I Profited by Them With Much Pleasure." 
   
   
   
 "Then You Are On My Side, As Far As I Can Be Said To Have A Side?" 
   
   
   
 "I Think Not. The   Pleasure Is Undoubted; But I Do Not Know That That 
 Touches The   Question Of   Expediency." 
   
   
   
 "I Think It Does. I Think It Settles The   Question. Mrs. Armadale, Your 
 Granddaughter Confesses The   Pleasure; And What Else Do We Live For, But 
 To Get The   Most Good Out Of   Life?" 
   
   
   
 "What Pleasure Does She Confess?" Asked the   Old Lady, With More 
 Eagerness Than Her Words Hitherto Had Manifested. 
   
   
   
 "Pleasure In nice Things, Grandmother; In particularly Nice Things; 
 That Had Cost A Great Deal To Fetch Them From Nobody Knows Where; And 
 Pleasure In pretty Things Too. That Hotel Seemed almost Like The   Halls 
 Of Aladdin To My Inexperienced eyes. There Is Certainly Pleasure In a 
 Wonderfully Dainty Meal, Served in wonderful Vessels Of   Glass And China 
 And Silver, And Marble And Gold And Flowers To Help The   Effect. I Could 
 Have Dreamed myself Into A Fairy Tale, Often, If It Had Not Been For 
 The People." 
   
   
   
 "Life Is Not A Fairy Tale," Said Mrs. Armadale Somewhat Severely. 
 
 
 
 Chapter 33 (The Value Of Money) Pg 59 
 "No, Grandmother; And So The   Humanity Present Generally Reminded me. 
 But The   Illusion For A Minute Was Delightful." 
   
   
   
 "Is There Any Harm In making it As Much Like A Fairy Tale As We Can?" 
   
   
   
 Some Of   The   Little Courtesies And Hospitalities Of   The   Table Came In 
 Here, And Mr. Dillwyn'S Question Received no Answer. His Eye Went Round 
 The Table. No, Clearly These People Did Not Live In fairyland, And As 
 Little In the   Search After It. Good, Strong, Sensible, Practical Faces; 
 Women That Evidently Had Their Work To Do, And Did It; Habitual Energy 
 And Purpose Spoke In every One Of   Them, And Purpose _Attained_. Here 
 Was No Aimless Dreaming or Fruitless Wishing. The   Old Lady'S Face Was 
 Sorely Weather-Beaten, But Calm As A Ship In harbour. Charity Was 
 Homely, But Comfortable. Madge And Lois Were Blooming in strength And 
 Activity, And As Innocent Apparently Of   Any Vague, Unfulfilled longings 
 As A New-Blown Rose. Only When Mr. Dillwyn'S Eye Met Mrs. Barclay'S He 
 Was Sensible Of   A Different Record. He Half Sighed. The   Calm And The 
 Rest Were Not There. 
   
   
   
 The Talk Rambled on. Mr. Dillwyn Made Him Self Exceedingly Pleasant; 
 Told Of   Things He Had Seen In his Travels, Things And People, And Ways 
 Of Life; Interesting even Mrs. Armadale With A Sort Of   Fascinated 
 Interest, And Gaining, He Knew, No Little Share Of   Her Good-Will. So, 
 Just As The   Meal Was Ending, He Ventured to Bring forward The   Old 
 Subject Again. 
   
   
   
 "You Will Pardon Me, Mrs. Armadale," He Began,--"But You Are The   First 
 Person I Ever Met Who Did Not Value Money." 
   
   
   
 "Perhaps I Am The   First Person You Ever Met Who Had Something better." 
   
   
   
 "You Mean--?" Said Philip, With A Look Of   Inquiry. "I Do Not 
 Understand." 
   
   
   
 "I Have Treasure In heaven." 
   
   
   
 "But The   Coin Of   That Realm Is Not Current Here?--And We Are _Here_." 
   
   
   
 "That Coin Makes Me Rich Now; And I Take It With Me When I Go," Said 
 The Old Lady, As She Rose From The   Table. 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 34 (Under An Umbrella) Pg 60 
   
 Mrs. Barclay Returned to Her Own Room, And Mr. Dillwyn Was Forced to 
 Follow Her. The   Door Was Shut Between Them And The   Rest Of   The 
 Household. Mrs. Barclay Trimmed her Fire, And Her Guest Looked on 
 Absently. Then They Sat Down On Opposite Sides Of   The   Fireplace; Mrs. 
 Barclay Smiling inwardly, For She Knew That Philip Was Impatient; 
 However, Nothing could Be More Sedate To All Appearance Than She Was. 
   
   
   
 "Do You Hear How The   Wind Moans In the   Chimney?" She Said. "That Means 
 Rain." 
   
   
   
 "Rather Dismal, Isn'T It?" 
   
   
   
 "No. In this House Nothing is Dismal. There Is A Wholesome Way Of 
 Looking at Everything." 
   
   
   
 "Not At Money?" 
   
   
   
 "It Is No Use, Philip, To Talk To People About What They Cannot 
 Understand." 
   
   
   
 "I Thought Understanding on That Point Was Universal." 
   
   
   
 "They Have Another Standard In this Family For Weighing things, From 
 That Which You And I Have Been Accustomed to Go By." 
   
   
   
 "What Is It?" 
   
   
   
 "I Can Hardly Tell You, In a Word. I Am Not Sure That I Can Tell You At 
 All. Ask Lois." 
   
   
   
 "When Can I Ask Her? Do You Spend Your Evenings Alone?" 
   
   
   
 "By No Means! Sometimes I Go Out And Read 'Rob Roy' To Them. Sometimes 
 The Girls Come To Me For Some Deeper Reading, Or Lessons." 
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 34 (Under An Umbrella) Pg 61 
   
 "Will They Come To-Night?" 
   
   
   
 "Of Course Not! They Would Not Interfere With Your Enjoyment Of   My 
 Society." 
   
   
   
 "Cannot You Ask Lois In, On Some Pretext?" 
   
   
   
 "Not Without Her Sister. It Is Hard On You, Philip! I Will Do The   Best 
 For You I Can; But You Must Watch Your Opportunity." 
   
   
   
 Mr. Dillwyn Gave It Up With A Good Grace, And Devoted himself To Mrs. 
 Barclay For The   Rest Of   The   Evening. On The   Other Side Of   The   Wall 
 Separating the   Two Rooms, Meanwhile A Different Colloquy Had Taken 
 Place. 
   
   
   
 "So That Is One Of   Your Fine People?" Said Miss Charity. "Well, I Don'T 
 Think Much Of   Him." 
   
   
   
 "I Have No Doubt He Would Return The   Compliment," Said Madge. 
   
   
   
 "No," Said Lois; "I Think He Is Too Polite." 
   
   
   
 "He Was Polite To Grandmother," Returned charity. "Not To Anybody Else, 
 That I Saw. But, Girls, Didn'T He Like The   Bread!" 
   
   
   
 "I Thought He Liked everything pretty Well," Said Madge. 
   
   
   
 "When'S He Goin'?" Mrs. Armadale Asked suddenly. 
   
   
   
 "Monday, Some Time," Madge Answered. "Mrs. Barclay Said 'Until Monday.' 
 What Time Monday I Don'T Know." 
   
   
   
 "Well, We'Ve Got Things Enough To Hold Out Till Then," Said Charity, 
 Gathering up Her Dishes. "It'S Fun, Too; I Like To Set A Nice Table." 
   
   
   
 "Why, Grandmother?" Said Lois. "Don'T You Like Mrs. Barclay'S Friend?" 
   
   
   
 "Well Enough, Child. I Don'T Want Him For None Of   Our'N." 
   
   
   
 "Why, Grandmother?" Said Madge. 
 
 
 
 Chapter 34 (Under An Umbrella) Pg 62 
   
 "His World Ain'T Our World, Children, And His Hopes Ain'T Our Hopes--If 
 The Poor Soul Has Any. 'Seems To Me He'S All In the   Dark." 
   
   
   
 "That'S Only On One Subject," Said Lois. "About Everything else He 
 Knows A Great Deal; And He Has Seen Everything." 
   
   
   
 "Yes," Said Mrs. Armadale; "Very Like He Has; And He Likes To Talk 
 About It; And He Has A Pleasant Tongue; And He Is A Civil Man. But 
 There'S One Thing he Hain'T Seen, And That Is The   Light; And One Thing 
 He Don'T Know, And That Is Happiness. And He May Have Plenty Of 
 Money--I Dare Say He Has; But He'S What I Call A Poor Man. I Don'T Want 
 You To Have No Such Friends." 
   
   
   
 "But Grandmother, You Do Not Dislike To Have Him In the   House These Two 
 Days, Do You?" 
   
   
   
 "It Can'T Be Helped, My Dear, And We'Ll Do The   Best For Him We Can. But 
 I Don'T Want _You_ To Have No Such Friends." 
   
   
   
 "I Believe We Should Go Out Of   The   World To Suit Grandmother," Remarked 
 Charity. "She Won'T Think Us Safe As Long As We'Re In it." 
   
   
   
 The Whole Family Went To Church The   Next Morning. Mr. Dillwyn'S 
 Particular Object, However, Was Not Much Furthered. He Saw Lois, 
 Indeed, At The   Breakfast Table; And The   Sight Was Everything his Fancy 
 Had Painted it. He Thought Of   Milton'S 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
    "Pensive Nun, Devout And Pure, 
    Sober, Stedfast, And Demure"-- 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
 Only The   Description Did Not Quite Fit; For There Was A Healthy, Sweet 
 Freshness About Lois Which Gave The   Idea Of   More Life And Activity, 
 Mental And Bodily, Than Could Consort With A Pensive Character. The 
 Rest Fitted pretty Well; And The   Lines Ran Again And Again Through Mr. 
 Dillwyn'S Head. Lois Was Gone To Church Long Before The   Rest Of   The 
 Family Set Out; And In church She Did Not Sit With The   Others; And She 
 Did Not Come Home With Them. However, She Was At Dinner. But 
 Immediately After Dinner Mrs. Barclay With Drew Again Into Her Own 
 Room, And Mr. Dillwyn Had No Choice But To Accompany Her. 
   
   
   
 "What Now?" He Asked. "What Do You Do The   Rest Of   The   Day?" 
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 34 (Under An Umbrella) Pg 63 
   
   
 "I Stay At Home And Read. Lois Goes To Sunday School." 
   
   
   
 Mr. Dillwyn Looked to The   Windows. The   Rain Mrs. Barclay Threatened had 
 Come; And Had Already Begun In a Sort Of   Fury, In company With A Wind, 
 Which Drove It And Beat It, As It Seemed, From All Points Of   The 
 Compass At Once. The   Lines Of   Rain-Drops Went Slantwise Past The 
 Windows, And Then Beat Violently Upon Them; The   Ground Was Wet In a Few 
 Minutes; The   Sky Was Dark With Its Thick Watery Veils. Wind And Rain 
 Were Holding revelry. 
   
   
   
 "She Will Not Go Out In this Weather," Said The   Gentleman, With 
 Conviction Which Seemed to Be Agreeable. 
   
   
   
 "The Weather Will Not Hinder Her," Returned mrs. Barclay. 
   
   
   
 "_This_ Weather?" 
   
   
   
 "No. Lois Does Not Mind Weather. I Have Learned to Know Her By This 
 Time. Where She Thinks She Ought To Go, Or What She Thinks She Ought To 
 Do, There No Hindrance Will Stop Her. It Is Good You Should Learn To 
 Know Her Too, Philip." 
   
   
   
 "Pray Tell Me,--Is The   Question Of   'Ought' Never Affected by What 
 Should Be Legitimate Hindrances?" 
   
   
   
 "They Are Never Credited with Being legitimate," Mrs. Barclay Said, 
 With A Slight Laugh. "The Principle Is The   Same As That Old Soldier'S 
 Who Said, You Know, When Ordered upon Some Difficult Duty, 'Sir, If It 
 Is Possible, It Shall Be Done; And If It Is Impossible, It _Must_ Be 
 Done!'" 
   
   
   
 "That Will Do For A Soldier,", Said Dillwyn. "At What O'Clock Does She 
 Go?" 
   
   
   
 "In About A Quarter Of   An Hour I Shall Expect To Hear Her Feet 
 Pattering softly Through The   Hall, And Then The   Door Will Open And Shut 
 Without Noise, And A Dark Figure Will Shoot Past The   Windows." 
   
   
   
 Mr. Dillwyn Left The   Room, And Probably Made Some Preparations; For 
 When, A Few Minutes Later, A Figure All Wrapped up In a Waterproof 
 Cloak Did Pass Softly Through The   Hall, He Came Out Of   Mrs. Barclay'S 
 Room And Confronted it; And I Think His Overcoat Was On. 
   
   
   
 "Miss Lois! You Cannot Be Going out In this Storm?" 
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 34 (Under An Umbrella) Pg 64 
 "O Yes. The   Storm Is Nothing--Only Something to Fight Against." 
   
   
   
 "But It Blows Quite Furiously." 
   
   
   
 "I Don'T Dislike A Wind," Said Lois, Laying her Hand On The   Lock Of   The 
 Door. 
   
   
   
 "You Have No Umbrella?" 
   
   
   
 "Don'T Need it. I Am All Protected, Don'T You See? Mr. Dillwyn, _You_ 
 Are Not Going out?" 
   
   
   
 "Why Not?" 
   
   
   
 "But You Have Nothing to Call You Out?" 
   
   
   
 "I Beg Your Pardon. The   Same Thing, I Venture To Presume, That Calls 
 You Out,--Duty. Only In my Case The   Duty Is Pleasure." 
   
   
   
 "You Are Not Going to Take Care Of   Me?" 
   
   
   
 "Certainly." 
   
   
   
 "But There'S No Need. Not The   Least In the   World." 
   
   
   
 "From Your Point Of   View." 
   
   
   
 He Was So Alertly Ready, Had The   Door Open And His Umbrella Spread, And 
 Stood Outside Waiting for Her, Lois Did Not Know How To Get Rid Of   Him. 
 She Would Surely Have Done It If She Could. So She Found Herself Going 
 Up The   Street With Him By Her Side, And The   Umbrella Warding off The 
 Wind And Rain From Her Face. It Was Vexatious And Amusing. From Her 
 Face! Who Had Faced sharnpuashuh Storms Ever Since She Could Remember. 
 It Is Very Odd To Be Taken Care Of   On A Sudden, When You Are 
 Accustomed, And Perfectly Able, To Take Care Of   Your Self. It Is Also 
 Agreeable. 
   
   
   
 "You Had Better Take My Arm, Miss Lois," Said Her Companion. "I Could 
 Shield You Better." 
   
   
   
 "Well," Said Lois, Half Laughing, "Since You Are Here, I May As Well 
 Take The   Good Of   It." 
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 34 (Under An Umbrella) Pg 65 
   
 And Then Mr. Dillwyn Had Got Things As He Wanted them. 
   
   
   
 "I Ventured to Assume, A Little While Ago, Miss Lois, That Duty Was 
 Taking you Out Into This Storm; But I Confess My Curiosity To Know What 
 Duty Could Have The   Right To Do It. If My Curiosity Is Indiscreet, You 
 Can Rebuke It." 
   
   
   
 "It Is Not Indiscreet," Said Lois. "I Have A Sort Of   A Bible Class, In 
 The Upper Part Of   The   Village, A Quarter Of   A Mile Beyond The   Church." 
   
   
   
 "I Understood It Was Something of   That Kind, Or I Should Not Have 
 Asked. But In such Weather As This, Surely They Would Not Expect You?" 
   
   
   
 "Yes, They Would. At Any Rate, I Am Bound To Show That I Expect Them." 
   
   
   
 "_Do_ You Expect Them, To Come Out To-Day?" 
   
   
   
 "Not All Of   Them," Lois Allowed. "But If There Would Not Be One, Still 
 I Must Be There." 
   
   
   
 "Why?--If You Will Pardon Me For Asking." 
   
   
   
 "It Is Good They Should Know That I Am Regular And To Be Depended on. 
 And, Besides, They Will Be Sure To Measure The   Depth Of   My Interest In 
 The Work By My Desire To Do It. And One Can Do So Little In this World 
 At One'S Best, That One Is Bound To Do All One Can." 
   
   
   
 "All One Can," Mr. Dillwyn Repeated. 
   
   
   
 "You Cannot Put It At A Lower Figure. I Was Struck With A Word In one 
 Of Mrs. Barclay'S Books--'The Life And Correspondence Of   John 
 Foster,'--'Power, To Its Very Last Particle, Is Duty.'" 
   
   
   
 "But That Would Be To Make Life A Terrible Responsibility." 
   
   
   
 "Say Noble--Not Terrible!" Said Lois. 
   
   
   
 "I Confess It Seems To Me Terrible Also. I Do Not See How You Can Get 
 Rid Of   The   Element Of   Terribleness." 
   
   
   
 "Yes,--If Duty Is Neglected. Not If Duty Is Done." 
 
 
 
 Chapter 34 (Under An Umbrella) Pg 66 
   
   
 "Who Does His Duty, At That Rate?" 
   
   
   
 "Some People _Try_," Said Lois. 
   
   
   
 "And That Trying must Make Life A Servitude." 
   
   
   
 "Service--Not Servitude!" Exclaimed lois Again, With The   Same 
 Wholesome, Hearty Ring in her Voice That Her Companion Had Noticed 
 Before. 
   
   
   
 "How Do You Draw The   Line Between Them?" He Asked, With An Inward 
 Smile; And Yet Mr. Dillwyn Was Earnest Enough Too. 
   
   
   
 "There Is More Than A Line Between Them," Said Lois. "There Is All The 
 Distance Between Freedom And Slavery." And The   Words Recurred to Her, 
 "I Will Walk At Liberty, _For I Seek Thy Precepts;_" But She Judged 
 They Would Not Be Familiar To Her Companion Nor Meet Appreciation From 
 Him, So She Did Not Speak Them. "_Service_," She Went On, "I Think Is 
 One Of   The   Noblest Words In the   World; But It Cannot Be Rendered 
 Servilely. It Must Be Free, From The   Heart." 
   
   
   
 "You Make Nice Distinctions. Service, I Suppose You Mean, Of   One'S 
 Fellow Creatures?" 
   
   
   
 "No," Said Lois, "I Do Not Mean That. Service Must Be Given To God. It 
 Will Work Out Upon One'S Fellow-Creatures, Of   Course." 
   
   
   
 "Nice Distinctions Again," Said Mr. Dillwyn. 
   
   
   
 "But Very Real! And Very Essential." 
   
   
   
 "Is There Not Service--True Service--That Is Given Wholly To One'S 
 Needy Fellows Of   Humanity? It Seems To Me I Have Heard Of   Such." 
   
   
   
 "There Is A Good Deal Of   Such Service," Said Lois, "But It Is Not The 
 True. It Is Partial, And Arbitrary; It Ebbs And Flows, And Chooses; And 
 Is Found Consorting with What Is Not Service, But The   Contrary. True 
 Service, Given To God, And Rising from The   Love Of   Him, Goes Where It 
 Is Sent And Does What It Is Bidden, And Has Too High A Spring ever To 
 Fail. Real Service Gives All, And Is Ready For Everything." 
   
   
   
 "How Much Do You Mean, I Wonder, By 'Giving all'? Do You Use The   Words 
 Soberly?" 
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 34 (Under An Umbrella) Pg 67 
 "Quite Soberly," Said Lois, Laughing. 
   
   
   
 "Giving all What?" 
   
   
   
 "All One'S Power,--According to Foster'S Judgment Of   It." 
   
   
   
 "Do You Know What That Would End In?" 
   
   
   
 "I Think I Do. How Do You Mean?" 
   
   
   
 "Do You Know How Much A Man Or A Woman Would Give Who Gave _All_ He 
 Had?" 
   
   
   
 "Yes, Of   Course I Do." 
   
   
   
 "What Would Be Left For Himself?" 
   
   
   
 Lois Did Not Answer At Once; But Then She Stopped short In her Walk And 
 Stood Still, In the   Midst Of   Rain And Wind, Confronting her Companion. 
 And Her Words Were With An Energy That She Did Not At All Mean To Give 
 Them. 
   
   
   
 "There Would Be Left For Him--All That The   Riches And Love Of   God Could 
 Do For His Child." 
   
   
   
 Mr. Dillwyn Gazed into The   Face That Was Turned towards Him, Flushed, 
 Fired, Earnest, Full Of   A Grand Consciousness, As Of   A Most Simple 
 Unconsciousness,--And For The   Moment Did Not Think Of   Replying. Then 
 Lois Recollected herself, Smiled at Herself, And Went On. 
   
   
   
 "I Am Very Foolish To Talk So Much," She Said. "I Do Not Know Why I Do. 
 Somehow I Think It Is Your Fault, Mr. Dillwyn. I Am Not In the   Habit, I 
 Think, Of   Holding forth So To People Who Ought To Know Better Than 
 Myself." 
   
   
   
 "I Am Sure You Are Aware That I Was Speaking honestly, And That I Do 
 _Not_ Know Better?" He Said. 
   
   
   
 "I Suppose I Thought So," Lois Answered. "But That Does Not Quite 
 Excuse Me. Only--I Was Sorry For You, Mr. Dillwyn." 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 34 (Under An Umbrella) Pg 68 
 "Thank You. Now, May I Go On? The   Conversation Can Hardly Be So 
 Interesting to You As It Is To Me." 
   
   
   
 "I Think I Have Said Enough," Said Lois, A Little Shyly. 
   
   
   
 "No, Not Enough, For I Want To Know More. The   Sentence You Quoted from 
 Foster, If It Is True, Is Overwhelming. If It Is True, It Leaves All 
 The World With Terrible Arrears Of   Obligation." 
   
   
   
 "Yes," Lois Answered half Reluctantly,--"Duty Unfulfilled _Is_ 
 Terrible. But, Not 'All The   World,' Mr. Dillwyn." 
   
   
   
 "You Are An Exception." 
   
   
   
 "I Did Not Mean Myself. I Do Not Suppose I Do All I Ought To Do. I Do 
 Try To Do All I Know. But There Are A Great Many Beside Me, Who Do 
 Better." 
   
   
   
 "You Agree Then, That One Is Not Bound By Duties _Unknown?_" 
   
   
   
 Lois Hesitated. "You Are Making me Talk Again, As If I Were Wise," She 
 Said. "What Should Hinder Any One From Knowing his Duty, Mr. Dillwyn." 
   
   
   
 "Suppose A Case Of   Pure Ignorance." 
   
   
   
 "Then Let Ignorance Study." 
   
   
   
 "Study What?" 
   
   
   
 "Mr. Dillwyn, You Ought To Ask Somebody Who Can Answer You Better." 
   
   
   
 "I Do Not Know Any Such Somebody." 
   
   
   
 "Haven'T You A Christian Among All Your Friends?" 
   
   
   
 "I Have Not A Friend In the   World, Of   Whom I Could Ask Such A Question 
 With The   Least Hope Of   Having it Answered." 
   
   
   
 "Where Is Your Minister?" 
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 34 (Under An Umbrella) Pg 69 
 "My Minister? Clergyman, You Mean? Miss Lois, I Have Been A Wanderer 
 Over The   Earth For Years. I Have Not Any 'Minister.'" 
   
   
   
 Lois Was Silent Again. They Had Been Walking fast, As Well As Talking 
 Fast, Spite Of   Wind And Rain; The   Church Was Left Behind Some Time Ago, 
 And The   More Comely And Elegant Part Of   The   Village Settlement. 
   
   
   
 "We Shall Have To Stop Talking now," Lois Said, "For We Are Near My 
 Place." 
   
   
   
 "Which Is Your Place?" 
   
   
   
 "Do You See That Old Schoolhouse, A Little Further On? We Have That For 
 Our Meetings. Some Of   The   Boys Put It In order And Make The   Fire For 
 Me." 
   
   
   
 "You Will Let Me Come In?" 
   
   
   
 "You?" Said Lois. "O No! Nobody Is There But My Class." 
   
   
   
 "You Will Let Me Be One Of   Them To-Day? Seriously,--I Am Going to Wait 
 To See You Home; You Will Not Let Me Wait In the   Rain?" 
   
   
   
 "I Shall Bid You Go Home," Said Lois, Laughing. 
   
   
   
 "I Am Not Going to Do That." 
   
   
   
 "Seriously, Mr. Dillwyn, I Do Not Need the   Least Care." 
   
   
   
 "Perhaps. But I Must Look At The   Matter From My Point Of   View." 
   
   
   
 What A Troublesome Man! Thought Lois; But Then They Were At The 
 Schoolhouse Door, The   Wind And Rain Came With Such A Wild Burst, That 
 It Seemed the   One Thing to Do To Get Under Shelter; And So Mr. Dillwyn 
 Went In with Her, And How To Turn Him Out Lois Did Not Know. 
   
   
   
 It Was A Bare Little Place. The   Sanded floor Gave Little Help Or 
 Seeming of   Comfort; The   Wooden Chairs And Benches Were Old And Hard; 
 However, The   Small Stove Did Give Out Warmth Enough To Make The   Place 
 Habitable, Even To Its Furthest Corners. Six People Were Already There. 
 Lois Gave A Rapid Glance At The   Situation. There Was No Time, And It 
 Was No Company For A Prolonged battle With The   Intruder. 
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 34 (Under An Umbrella) Pg 70 
   
 "Mr. Dillwyn," She Said Softly, "Will You Take A Seat By The   Stove, As 
 Far From Us As You Can; And Make Believe You Have Neither Eyes Nor 
 Ears? You Must Not Be Seen To Have Either--By Any Use You Make Of   Them. 
 If You Keep Quite Still, Maybe They Will Forget You Are Here. You Can 
 Keep Up The   Fire For Us." 
   
   
   
 She Turned from Him To Greet Her Young Friends, And Mr. Dillwyn Obeyed 
 Orders. He Hung Up His Wet Hat And Coat And Sat Down In the   Furthest 
 Corner; Placing himself So, However, That Neither Eyes Nor Ears Should 
 Be Hindered in the   Exercise Of   Their Vocation, While His Attitude Might 
 Have Suggested a Fit Of   Sleepiness, Or A Most Indifferent Meditation On 
 Things Far Distant, Or Possibly Rest After Severe Exertion. Lois And 
 Her Six Scholars Took Their Places At The   Other End Of   The   Room, Which 
 Was Too Small To Prevent Every Word They Spoke From Being distinctly 
 Heard By The   One Idle Spectator. A Spectator In truth Mr. Dillwyn 
 Desired to Be, Not Merely An Auditor; So, As He Had Been Warned he Must 
 Not Be Seen To Look, He Arranged himself In a Manner To Serve Both 
 Purposes, Of   Seeing and Not Seeing. 
   
   
   
 The Hour Was Not Long To This One Spectator, Although It Extended 
 Itself To Full An Hour And A Half. He Gave As Close Attention As Ever 
 When A Student In college He Had Given To Lecture Or Lesson. And Yet, 
 Though He Did This, Mr. Dillwyn Was Not, At Least Not At The   Time, 
 Thinking much Of   The   Matter Of   The   Lesson. He Was Studying the 
 Lecturer. And The   Study Grew Intense. It Was Not Flattering to 
 Perceive, As He Soon Did, That Lois Had Entirely Forgotten His 
 Presence. He Saw It By The   Free Unconcern With Which She Did Her Work, 
 As Well As In the   Absorbed interest She Gave To It. Not Flattering, And 
 It Cast A Little Shadow Upon Him, But It Was Convenient For His Present 
 Purpose Of   Observation. So He Watched,--And Listened. He Heard The 
 Sweet Utterance And Clear Enunciation, First Of   All; He Heard Them, It 
 Is True, Whenever She Spoke; But Now The   Utterance Sounded sweeter Than 
 Usual, As If There Were A Vibration From Some Fuller Than Usual Mental 
 Harmony, And The   Voice Was Of   A Silvery Melody. It Contrasted with The 
 Other Voices, Which Were More Or Less Rough Or Grating or Nasal, Too 
 High Pitched or Low, And Rough-Cadenced, As Uncultured voices Are Apt 
 To Be. From The   Voices, Mr. Dillwyn'S Attention Was Drawn To What The 
 Voices Said. And Here He Found, Most Unexpectedly, A Great Deal To 
 Interest Him. Those Rough Voices Spoke Words Of   Genuine Intelligence; 
 They Expressed earnest Interest; And They Showed the   Speakers To Be 
 Acute, Thoughtful, Not Uninformed, Quick To Catch What Was Presented to 
 Them, Often Cunning to Deal With It. Mr. Dillwyn Was In danger Of 
 Smiling, More Than Once. And Lois Met Them, If Not With The   Skill Of   A 
 Practised logician, With The   Quick Wit Of   A Woman'S Intuition And A 
 Woman'S Loving sympathy, Armed with Knowledge, And Penetration, And 
 Tact, And Gentleness, And Wisdom. It Was Something delightful To Hear 
 Her Soft Accents Answer Them, With Such Hidden Strength Under Their 
 Softness; It Was Charming to See Her Gentleness And Patience, And 
 Eagerness Too; For Lois Was Talking with All Her Heart. Mr. Dillwyn 
 Lost His Wonder That Her Class Came Out In the   Rain; He Only Wished he 
 Could Be One Of   Them, And Have The   Privilege Too! 
   
   
   
 It Was Impossible But That With All This Mental Observation Mr. 
 Dillwyn'S Eyes Should Also Take Notice Of   The   Fair Exterior Before 
 Them. They Would Not Have Been Worthy To See It Else. Lois Had Laid Off 
 Her Bonnet In the   Hot Little Room; It Had Left Her Hair A Little 
 Loosened and Disordered; Yet Not With What Deserved to Be Called 
 Disorder; It Was Merely A Softening and Lifting of   The   Rich, Full 
 Masses, Adding to The   Grace Of   The   Contour, Not Taking from It. Nothing 
 Could Be Plainer Than The   Girl'S Dress; All The   More The   Observer'S Eye 
 Noted the   Excellent Lines Of   The   Figure And The   Natural Charm Of   Every 
 Movement And Attitude. The   Charm That Comes, And Always Must Come, From 
 Inward Refinement And Delicacy, When Combined with Absence Of 
 Consciousness; And Which Can Only Be Helped, Not Produced, By Any 
 
 
 
 Chapter 34 (Under An Umbrella) Pg 71 
 Perfection Of   The   Physical Structure. Then The   Tints Of   Absolute 
 Health, And Those Low, Musical, Sensitive Tones, Flowing on In such 
 Sweet Modulations-- 
   
   
   
 What A Woman Was This! Mr. Dillwyn Could See, Too, The   Effect Of   Mrs. 
 Barclay'S Work. He Was Sure He Could. The   Whole Giving of   That Bible 
 Lesson Betrayed the   Refinement Of   Mental Training and Culture; Even The 
 Management Of   The   Voice Told Of   It. Here Was Not A Fine Machine, Sound 
 And Good, Yet In need of   Regulating, And Working, And Lubricating to 
 Get It In order; All That Had Been Done, And The   Smooth Running told 
 How Well. By Degrees Mr. Dillwyn Forgot The   Lesson, And The   Class, And 
 The Schoolhouse, And Remembered but One Thing any More; And That Was 
 Lois. His Head And Heart Grew Full Of   Her. He Had Been In the   Grasp Of 
 A Strong Fancy Before; A Fancy Strong Enough To Make Him Spend Money, 
 And Spend Time, For The   Possible Attainment Of   Its Object; Now It Was 
 Fancy No Longer. He Had Made Up His Mind, As A Man Makes It Up Once For 
 All; Not To Try To Win Lois, But To Have Her. She, He Saw, Was As Yet 
 Ungrazed by Any Corresponding feeling towards Him. That Made No 
 Difference. Philip Dillwyn Had One Object In life From This Time. He 
 Hardly Saw Or Heard Lois'S Leave-Takings With Her Class, But As She 
 Came Up To Him He Rose. 
   
   
   
 "I Have Kept You Too Long, Mr. Dillwyn; But I Could Not Help It; And 
 Really, You Know, It Was Your Own Fault." 
   
   
   
 "Not A Minute Too Long," He Assured her; And He Put On Her Cloak And 
 Handed her Her Bonnet With Grave Courtesy, And A Manner Which Lois 
 Would Have Said Was Absorbed, But For A Certain Element In it Which 
 Even Then Struck Her. They Set Out Upon Their Homeward Way, But The 
 Walk Home Was Not As The   Walk Out Had Been. The   Rain And The   Wind Were 
 Unchanged; The   Wind, Indeed, Had An Added touch Of   Waywardness As They 
 More Nearly Faced it, Going this Way; And The   Rain Was Driven Against 
 Them With Greater Fury. Lois Was Fain To Cling to Her Companion'S Arm, 
 And The   Umbrella Had To Be Handled with Discretion. But The   Storm Had 
 Been Violent Enough Before, And It Was No Feature Of   That Which Made 
 The Difference. Neither Was It The   Fact That Both Parties Were Now 
 Almost Silent, Whereas On The   Way Out They Had Talked incessantly; 
 Though It Was A Fact. Perhaps Lois Was Tired with Talking, Seeing she 
 Had Been Doing nothing else For Two Hours, But What Ailed philip? And 
 What Gave The   Walk Its New Character? Lois Did Not Know, Though She 
 Felt It In every Fibre Of   Her Being. And Mr. Dillwyn Did Not Know, 
 Though The   Cause Lay In him. He Was Taking care Of   Lois; He Had Been 
 Taking care Of   Her Before; But Now, Unconsciously, He Was Doing it As A 
 Man Only Does It For One Woman In the   World. Hardly More Careful Of 
 Her, Yet With That Indefinable Something in the   Manner Of   It, Which 
 Lois Felt Even In the   Putting on Of   Her Cloak In the   Schoolhouse. It 
 Was Something she Had Never Touched before In her Life, And Did Not Now 
 Know What It Meant; At Least I Should Say Her _Reason_ Did Not Know; 
 Yet Nature Answered to Nature Infallibly, And By Some Hidden Intuition 
 Of Recognition The   Girl Was Subdued and Dumb. This Was Nothing like Tom 
 Caruthers, And Anything she Had Received from Him. Tom Had Been 
 Flattering, Demonstrative, Obsequious; There Was No Flattery Here, And 
 No Demonstration, And Nothing could Be Farther From Obsequiousness. It 
 Was The   Delicate Reverence Which A Man Gives To Only One Woman Of   All 
 The World; Something that Must Be Felt And Cannot Be Feigned; The   Most 
 Subtle Incense Of   Worship One Human Spirit Can Render To Another; Which 
 The One Renders And The   Other Receives, Without Either Being able To 
 Tell How It Is Done. The   More Is The   Incense Sweet, Penetrating, 
 Powerful. Lois Went Home Silently, Through The   Rain And Wind, And Did 
 Not Know Why A Certain Mist Of   Happiness Seemed to Encompass Her. She 
 Was Ignorant Why The   Storm Was So Very Beneficent In its Action; Did 
 Not Know Why The   Wind Was So Musical And The   Rain So Refreshing; Could 
 Not Guess Why She Was Sorry To Get Home. Yet The   Fact Was Before Her As 
 She Stepped in. 
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 34 (Under An Umbrella) Pg 72 
   
 "It Has Done You No Harm!" Said Mr. Dillwyn, Smiling, As He Met Lois'S 
 Eyes, And Saw Her Fresh, Flushed cheeks. "Are You Wet?" 
   
   
   
 "I Think Not At All." 
   
   
   
 "This Must Come Off, However," He Went On, Proceeding to Unfasten Her 
 Cloak; "It Has Caught More Rain-Drops Than You Know." And Lois 
 Submitted, And Meekly Stood Still And Allowed the   Cloak, Very Wet On 
 One Side, To Be Taken Off Her. 
   
   
   
 "Where Is This To Go? There Seems To Be No Place To Hang It Here." 
   
   
   
 "O, I Will Hang It Up To Dry In the   Kitchen, Thank You," Said Lois, 
 Offering to Take It. 
   
   
   
 "_I_ Will Hang It Up To Dry In the   Kitchen,--If You Will Show Me The 
 Way. You Cannot Handle It." 
   
   
   
 Lois Could Have Laughed, For Did She Not Handle Everything? And Did Wet 
 Or Dry Make Any Difference To Her? However, She Did Not On This 
 Occasion Feel Like Contesting the   Matter; But With Unwonted docility 
 Preceded mr. Dillwyn Through The   Sitting-Room, Where Were Mrs. Armadale 
 And Madge, To The   Kitchen Beyond, Where Charity Was Just Putting on The 
 Tea-Kettle. 
   
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 35 (Opinions) Pg 73 
 Mr. Dillwyn Rejoined mrs. Barclay In her Parlour, But He Was A Less 
 Entertaining man This Evening than He Had Been During the   Former Part 
 Of His Visit. Mrs. Barclay Saw It, And Smiled, And Sighed. Even At The 
 Tea-Table Things Were Not Like Last Evening. Philip Entered into No 
 Discussions, Made No Special Attempts To Amuse Anybody, Attended to His 
 Duties In the   Unconscious Way Of   One With Whom They Have Become Second 
 Nature, And Talked only So Much As Politeness Required. Mrs. Barclay 
 Looked at Lois, But Could Tell Nothing from The   Grave Face There. 
 Always On Sunday Evenings It Had A Very Fair, Sweet Gravity. 
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 35 (Opinions) Pg 74 
   
   
 The Rest Of   The   Time, After Tea, Was Spent In making music. It Had 
 Become A Usual Sunday Evening entertainment. Mrs. Barclay Played, And 
 She And The   Two Girls Sang. It Was All Sacred music, Of   Course, Varied 
 Exceedingly, However, By The   Various Tastes Of   The   Family. Old Hymn And 
 Psaulm Tunes Were What Mrs. Armadale Liked; And Those Generally Came 
 First; Then The   Girls Had More Modern Pieces, And With Those Mrs. 
 Barclay Interwove An Anthem Or A Chant Now And Then. Madge And Lois 
 Both Had Good Voices And Good Natural Taste And Feeling; And Mrs. 
 Barclay'S Instructions Had Been Eagerly Received. This Evening philip 
 Joined the   Choir; And Charity Declared it Was "Better'N They Could Do 
 In The   Episcopal Church." 
   
   
   
 "Do They Have The   Best Singing in the   Episcopal Church?" Asked philip 
 Absently. 
   
   
   
 "Well, They Set Up To; And You See They Give More Time To It. Our Folks 
 Won'T Practise." 
   
   
   
 "I Don'T Care How Folk'S Voices Sound, If Their Hearts _Are_ In it," 
 Said Mrs. Armadale. 
   
   
   
 "But You May Notice, Voices Sound Better If Hearts Are In it," Said 
 Dillwyn. "That Made A Large Part Of   The   Beauty Of   Our Concert This 
 Evening." 
   
   
   
 "Was Your'N In it?" Asked mrs. Armadale Abruptly. 
   
   
   
 "My Heart? In the   Words? I Am Afraid I Must Own It Was Not, In the   Way 
 You Mean, Madam. If I Must Answer Truth." 
   
   
   
 "Don'T You Always Speak Truth?" 
   
   
   
 "I Believe I May Say, That _Is_ My Habit," Philip Answered, Smiling. 
   
   
   
 "Then, Do You Think You Ought To Sing sech Words, If You Don'T Mean 
 'Em?" 
   
   
   
 The Question Looks Abrupt, On Paper. It Did Not Sound Equally So. 
 Something of   Earnest Wistfulness There Was In the   Old Lady'S Look And 
 Manner, A Touch Of   Solemnity In her Voice, Which Made The   Gentleman 
 Forgive Her On The   Spot. He Sat Down Beside Her. 
   
   
   
 "Would You Bid Me Not Join In singing such Words, Then?" 
   
   
   
 "It'S Not My Place To Bid Or Forbid. But You Can Judge For Yourself. Do 
 
 
 
 Chapter 35 (Opinions) Pg 75 
 You Set Much Valley On Professions That Mean Nothing?" 
   
   
   
 "I Made No Professions." 
   
   
   
 "Ain'T It Professin', When You Say What The   Hymns Say?" 
   
   
   
 "If You Will Forgive Me--I Did Not Say It," Responded philip. 
   
   
   
 "Ain'T Singin' Sayin'?" 
   
   
   
 "They Are Generally Looked upon As Essentially Different. People Are 
 Never Held Responsible For The   Things They Sing,--Out Of   Church," Added 
 Philip, Smiling. "Is It Otherwise With Church Singing?" 
   
   
   
 "What'S Church Singin' Good For, Then?" 
   
   
   
 "I Thought It Was To Put The   Minds Of   The   Worshippers In a Right 
 State;--To Sober And Harmonize Them." 
   
   
   
 "I Thought It Was To Tell The   Lord How We Felt," Said The   Old Lady. 
   
   
   
 "That Is A New View Of   It, Certainly." 
   
   
   
 "_I_ Thought The   Words Was To Tell One How We Had Ought To Feel!" Said 
 Charity. "There Wouldn'T More'N One In a Dozen Sing, Mother, If You Had 
 _Your_ Way; And Then We Should Have Nice Music!" 
   
   
   
 "I Think It Would Be Nice Music," Said The   Old Lady, With A Kind Of 
 Sober Tremble In her Voice, Which Somehow Touched philip. The   Ring of 
 Truth Was There, At Any Rate. 
   
   
   
 "Could The   World Be Managed," He Said, With Very Gentle Deference; 
 "Could The   World Be Managed on Such Principles Of   Truth And Purity? 
 Must We Not Take People As We Find Them?" 
   
   
   
 "Those Are The   Lord'S Principles," Said Mrs. Armadale. 
   
   
   
 "Yes, But You Know How The   World Is. Must We Not, A Little, As I Said, 
 Take People As We Find Them?" 
   
   
   
 "The Lord Won'T Do That," Said The   Old Lady. "He Will Either Make Them 
 
 
 
 Chapter 35 (Opinions) Pg 76 
 Better, Or He Will Cast Them Away." 
   
   
   
 "But We? We Must Deal With Things As They Are." 
   
   
   
 "How Are You Goin' To Deal With 'Em?" 
   
   
   
 "In Charity And Kindness; Having patience With What Is Wrong, And 
 Believing that The   Good God Will Have More Patience Yet." 
   
   
   
 "You Had Better Believe What He Tells You," The   Old Lady Answered, 
 Somewhat Sternly. 
   
   
   
 "But Grandmother," Lois Put In here, "He _Does_ Have Patience." 
   
   
   
 "With Whom, Child?" 
   
   
   
 Lois Did Not Answer; She Only Quoted softly The   Words-- 
   
   
   
 "'Plenteous In mercy, Long-Suffering, Abundant In goodness And Truth.'" 
   
   
   
 "Ay, Child; But You Know What Happens To The   Houses Built On The   Sand." 
   
   
   
 The Party Broke Up Here, Mrs. Barclay Bidding good-Night And Leaving 
 The Dining-Room, Whither They Had All Gone To Eat Apples. As Philip 
 Parted from Lois He Remarked,-- 
   
   
   
 "I Did Not Understand The   Allusion In mrs. Armadale'S Last Words." 
   
   
   
 Lois'S Look Fascinated him. It Was Just A Moment'S Look, Pausing before 
 Turning away; Swift With Eagerness And Intent With Some Hidden Feeling 
 Which He Hardly Comprehended. She Only Said,-- 
   
   
   
 "Look In the   End Of   The   Seventh Chapter Of   Matthew." 
   
   
   
 "Well," Said Mrs. Barclay, When The   Door Was Closed, "What Do You Think 
 Of Our Progress?" 
   
   
   
 "Progress?" Repeated philip Vacantly. "I Beg Your Pardon!"-- 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 35 (Opinions) Pg 77 
 "In Music, Man!" Said Mrs. Barclay, Laughing. 
   
   
   
 "O!--Admirable. Have You A Bible Here?" 
   
   
   
 "A Bible?" Mrs. Barclay Echoed. "Yes--There Is A Bible In every Room, I 
 Believe. Yonder, On That Table. Why? What Do You Want Of   One Now?" 
   
   
   
 "I Have Had A Sermon Preached to Me, And I Want To Find The   Text." 
   
   
   
 Mrs. Barclay Asked no Further, But She Watched him, As With The   Book In 
 His Hand He Sat Down Before The   Fire And Studied the   Open Page. Studied 
 With Grave Thoughtfulness, Drawing his Brows A Little, And Pondering 
 With Eyes Fixed on The   Words For Some Length Of   Time. Then He Bade Her 
 Good-Night With A Smile, And Went Away. 
   
   
   
 He Went Away In good Earnest Next Day; But As A Subject Of   Conversation 
 In The   Village His Visit Lasted a Good While. That Same Evening mrs. 
 Marx Came To Make A Call, Just Before Supper. 
   
   
   
 "How Much Pork Are You Goin' To Want This Year, Mother?" She Began, 
 With The   Business Of   One Who Had Been Stirring her Energies With A Walk 
 In A Cool Wind. 
   
   
   
 "I Suppose, About As Usual," Said Mrs. Armadale. 
   
   
   
 "I Forget How Much That Is; I Can'T Keep It In my Head From One Year To 
 Another. Besides, I Didn'T Know But You'D Want An Extra Quantity, If 
 Your Family Was Goin' To Be Larger." 
   
   
   
 "It Is Not Going to Be Larger, As I Know." 
   
   
   
 "If My Pork Ain'T, I Shall Come Short Home. It Beats Me! I'Ve Fed 'Em 
 Just The   Same As Usual,--And The   Corn'S Every Bit As Good As Usual, 
 Never Better; Good Big Fat Yellow Ears, That Had Ought To Make A 
 Porker'S Heart Dance For Joy; And I Should Think They Were Sufferin' 
 From Continual Lowness O' Spirits, To Judge By The   Way They _Don'T_ Get 
 Fat. They'Re Growing real Long-Legged and Slab-Sided--Just The   Way I 
 Hate To See Pigs Look. I Don' Know What'S The   Matter With 'Em." 
   
   
   
 "Where Do You Keep 'Em?" 
   
   
   
 "Under The   Barn--Just Where They Always Be. Well, You'Ve Had A Visitor?" 
   
   
   
 "Mrs. Barclay Has." 
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 35 (Opinions) Pg 78 
   
   
 "I Understood 'Twas Her Company; But You Saw Him?" 
   
   
   
 "We Saw Him As Much As She Did," Put In charity. 
   
   
   
 "What'S He Like?" 
   
   
   
 Nobody Answered. 
   
   
   
 "Is He One Of   Your High-Flyers?" 
   
   
   
 "I Don'T Know What You Call High-Flyers, Aunt Anne," Said Madge. "He 
 Was A Gentleman." 
   
   
   
 "What Do You Mean By _That?_ I Saw Some 'Gentlemen' Last Summer At 
 Appledore--And I Don'T Want To See No More. Was He That Kind?" 
   
   
   
 "I Wasn'T There," Said Madge,  "And Can'T Tell. I Should Have No 
 Objection To See A Good Many Of   Them, If He Is." 
   
   
   
 "I Heard He Went To Sunday School With Lois, Through The   Rain." 
   
   
   
 "How Did You Know?" Said Lois. 
   
   
   
 "Why Shouldn'T I Know?" 
   
   
   
 "I Thought Nobody Was Out But Me." 
   
   
   
 "Do You Think Folks Will See An Umbrella Walkin' Up Street In the   Rain, 
 And Not Look To See If There'S Somebody Under It?" 
   
   
   
 "_I_ Shouldn'T," Said Lois. "When Should An Umbrella Be Out Walking, 
 But In the   Rain?" 
   
   
   
 "Well, Go Along. What Sort Of   A Man Is He? And What Brings Him To 
 Shampuashuh?" 
   
   
   
 "He Came To See Mrs. Barclay," Said Madge. 
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 35 (Opinions) Pg 79 
   
 "He'S A Sort Of   Man You Are Willin' To Take Trouble For," Said Charity. 
 "Real Nice, And Considerate; And To Hear Him Talk, It Is As Good As A 
 Book; And He'S Awfully Polite. You Should Have Seen Him Marching in 
 Here With Lois'S Wet Cloak, Out To The   Kitchen With It, And Hangin' It 
 Up. So To Pay, I Turned round And Hung Up His'N. One Good Turn Deserves 
 Another, I Told Him. But At First, I Declare, I Thought I Couldn'T Keep 
 From Laughin'." 
   
   
   
 Mrs. Marx Laughed a Little Here. "I Know The   Sort," She Said. "Wears 
 Kid Gloves Always And A Little Line Of   Hair Over His Upper Lip, And Is 
 Lazy Like. I Would Lose All My Patience To Have One O' Them Round For 
 Long, Smokin' A Cigar Every Other Thing, And Poisonin' All The   Air For 
 Half A Mile." 
   
   
   
 "I Think He _Is_ Sort O' Lazy," Said Charity. 
   
   
   
 "He Don'T Smoke," Said Lois. 
   
   
   
 "Yes He Does," Said Madge. "I Found An End Of   Cigar Just Down By The 
 Front Steps, When I Was Sweeping." 
   
   
   
 "I Don'T Think He'S A Lazy Man, Either," Said Lois. "That Slow, Easy 
 Way Does Not Mean Laziness." 
   
   
   
 "What Does It Mean?" Inquired mrs. Marx Sharply. 
   
   
   
 "It Is Nothing to Us What It Means," Said Mrs. Armadale, Speaking for 
 The First Time. "We Have No Concern With This Man. He Came To See Mrs. 
 Barclay, His Friend, And I Suppose He'Ll Never Come Again." 
   
   
   
 "Why Shouldn'T He Come Again, Mother?" Said Charity. "If She'S His 
 Friend, He Might Want To See Her More Than Once, Seems To Me. And 
 What'S More, He _Is_ Coming again. I Heard Him Askin' Her If He Might; 
 And Then Mrs. Barclay Asked me If It Would Be Convenient, And I Said It 
 Would, Of   Course. He Said He Would Be Comin' Back From Boston In a Few 
 Weeks, And He Would Like To Stop Again As He Went By. And Do You Know 
 _I_ Think She Coloured. It Was Only A Little, But She Ain'T A Woman To 
 Blush Much; And _I_ Believe She Knows Why He Wants To Come, As Well As 
 He Does." 
   
   
   
 "Nonsense, Charity!" Said Madge Incredulously. 
   
   
   
 "Then Half The   World Are Busy With Nonsense, That'S All I Have To Say; 
 And I'M Glad For My Part I'Ve Somethin' Better To Do." 
   
   
   
 "Do You Say He'S Comin' Again?" Inquired mrs. Armadale. 
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 35 (Opinions) Pg 80 
   
 "He Says So, Mother." 
   
   
   
 "What For?" 
   
   
   
 "Why, To Visit His Friend Mrs. Barclay, Of   Course." 
   
   
   
 "She Is Our Friend," Said The   Old Lady; "And Her Friends Must Be 
 Entertained; But He Is Not _Our_ Friend, Children. We Ain'T Of   His 
 Kind, And He Ain'T Of   Our'N." 
   
   
   
 "What'S The   Matter? Ain'T He Good?" Asked mrs. Marx. 
   
   
   
 "He'S _Very_ Good!" Said Madge. 
   
   
   
 "Not In grandmother'S Way," Said Lois Softly. 
   
   
   
 "Mother," Said Mrs. Marx, "You Can'T Have Everybody Cut Out On Your 
 Pattern." 
   
   
   
 Mrs. Armadale Made No Answer. 
   
   
   
 "And There Ain'T Enough O' Your Pattern To Keep One From Bein' 
 Lonesome, If We'Re To Have Nothin' To Do With The   Rest." 
   
   
   
 "Better So," Said The   Old Lady. "I Don'T Want No Company For My Chil'En 
 That Won'T Help 'Em On The   Road To Heaven. They'Ll Have Company Enough 
 When They Get There." 
   
   
   
 "And How Are You Goin' To Be The   Salt O' The   Earth, Then, If You Won'T 
 Touch Nothin'?" 
   
   
   
 "How, If The   Salt Loses Its Saltness, Daughter?" 
   
   
   
 "Well, Mother, It Always Puzzles Me, That There'S So Much To Be Said On 
 Both Sides Of   Things! I'Ll Go Home And Think About It. Then He Ain'T 
 One O' Your Appledore Friends, Lois?" 
   
   
   
 "Not One Of   My Friends At All, Aunt Anne." 
   
   
   
 So The   Talk Ended. There Was A Little Private Extension Of   It That 
 
 
 
 Chapter 35 (Opinions) Pg 81 
 Evening, When Lois And Madge Went Up To Bed. 
   
   
   
 "It'S A Pity Grandma Is So Sharp About Things," The   Latter Remarked to 
 Her Sister. 
   
   
   
 "Things?" Said Lois. "What Things?" 
   
   
   
 "Well--People. Don'T You Like That Mr. Dillwyn?" 
   
   
   
 "Yes." 
   
   
   
 "So Do I. And She Don'T Want Us To Have Anything to Do With Him." 
   
   
   
 "But She Is Right," Said Lois. "He Is Not A Christian." 
   
   
   
 "But One Can'T Live Only With Christians In this World. And, Lois, I'Ll 
 Tell You What I Think; He Is A Great Deal Pleasanter Than A Good Many 
 Christians I Know." 
   
   
   
 "He Is Good Company," Said Lois. "He Has Seen A Great Deal And Read A 
 Great Deal, And He Knows How To Talk. That Makes Him Pleasant." 
   
   
   
 "Well, He'S A Great Deal More Improving to Be With Than Anybody I Know 
 In Shampuashuh." 
   
   
   
 "In One Way." 
   
   
   
 "Why Shouldn'T One Have The   Pleasure, Then, And The   Good, If He Isn'T A 
 Christian?" 
   
   
   
 "The Pleasanter He Is, I Suppose The   More Danger, Grandmother Would 
 Think." 
   
   
   
 "Danger Of   What?" 
   
   
   
 "You Know, Madge, It Is Not My Say-So, Nor Even Grandmother'S. You 
 Know, Christians Are Not Of   The   World." 
   
   
   
 "But They Must _See_ The   World." 
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 35 (Opinions) Pg 82 
   
 "If We Were To See Much Of   That Sort Of   Person, We Might Get To Wishing 
 To See Them Always." 
   
   
   
 "By 'That Sort Of   Person' I Suppose You Mean Mr. Dillwyn? Well, I Have 
 Got So Far As That Already. I Wish I Could See Such People Always." 
   
   
   
 "I Am Sorry." 
   
   
   
 "Why? You Ought To Be Glad At My Good Taste." 
   
   
   
 "I Am Sorry, Because You Are Wishing for What You Cannot Have." 
   
   
   
 "How Do You Know That? You Cannot Tell What May Happen." 
   
   
   
 "Madge, A Man Like Mr. Dillwyn Would Never Think Of   A Girl Like You Or 
 Me." 
   
   
   
 "I Am Not Wanting him To Think Of   Me," Said Madge Rather Hotly. "But, 
 Lois, If You Come To That, I Think I--And You--Are Fit For Anybody." 
   
   
   
 "Yes," Said Lois Quietly. "I Think So Too. But _They_ Do Not Take The 
 Same View. And If They Did, Madge, We Could Not Think Of   Them." 
   
   
   
 "Why Not?--_If_ They Did. I Do Not Hold Quite Such Extreme Rules As You 
 And Grandmother Do." 
   
   
   
 "And The   Bible."-- 
   
   
   
 "Other People Do Not Think The   Bible Is So Strict." 
   
   
   
 "You Know What The   Words Are, Madge." 
   
   
   
 "I Don'T Know What The   Words Mean." 
   
   
   
 Lois Was Brushing out The   Thick Masses Of   Her Beautiful Hair, Which 
 Floated about Over Her In waves Of   Golden Brown; And Madge Had Been 
 Thinking, Privately, That If Anybody Could Have Just That View Of   Lois, 
 His Scruples--If He Had Any--Would Certainly Give Way. Now, At Her 
 Sister'S Last Words, However, Lois Laid Down Her Brush, And, Coming up, 
 Laid Hold Of   Madge By The   Shoulders And Gave Her A Gentle Shaking. It 
 Ended in something of   A Romp, But Lois Declared madge Should Never Say 
 Such A Thing again. 
 
 
 
 Chapter 36 (Two Sunday Schools) Pg 83 
 Lois Was Inclined now To Think It Might Be Quite As Well If Something 
 Hindered mr. Dillwyn'S Second Visit. She Did Not Wonder At Madge'S 
 Evident Fascination; She Had Felt The   Same Herself Long Ago, And In 
 Connection With Other People; The   Charm Of   Good Breeding and Gracious 
 Manners, And The   Habit Of   The   World, Even Apart From Knowledge And 
 Cultivation And The   Art Of   Conversation. Yes, Mr. Dillwyn Was A Good 
 Specimen Of   This Sort Of   Attraction; And For A Moment Lois'S 
 Imagination Recalled that Day'S Two Walks In the   Rain; Then She Shook 
 Off The   Impression. Two Poor Shampuashuh Girls Were Not Likely To Have 
 Much To Do With That Sort Of   Society, And--It Was Best They Should Not. 
 It Would Be Just As Well If Mr. Dillwyn Was Hindered from Coming again. 
   
   
   
 But He Came. A Month Had Passed; It Was The   Beginning of   December When 
 He Knocked next At The   Door, And Cold And Grey And Cloudy And Windy As 
 It Is December'S Character In certain Moods To Be. The   Reception He Got 
 Was Hearty In proportion; Fires Were Larger, The   Table Even More 
 Hospitably Spread; Mrs. Barclay Even More Cordial, And The   Family 
 Atmosphere Not Less Genial. Nevertheless The   Visit, For Mr. Dillwyn'S 
 Special Ends, Was Hardly Satisfactory. He Could Get No Private Speech 
 With Lois. She Was Always "Busy;" And At Meal-Times It Was Obviously 
 Impossible, And Would Have Been Impolitic, To Pay Any Particular 
 Attention To Her. Philip Did Not Attempt It. He Talked rather To Every 
 One Else; Made Himself Delightful Company; But Groaned in secret. 
   
   
   
 "Cannot You Make Some Excuse For Getting her In here?" He Asked mrs. 
 Barclay At Evening. 
   
   
   
 "Not Without Her Sister." 
   
   
   
 "With Her Sister, Then." 
   
   
   
 "They Are Very Busy Just Now Preparing some Thing they Call 'Apple 
 Butter.' It'S Unlucky, Philip. I Am Very Sorry. I Always Told You Your 
 
 
 
 Chapter 36 (Two Sunday Schools) Pg 84 
 Way Looked to Me Intricate." 
   
   
   
 Fortune Favoured him, However, In an Unexpected way. After A Day Passed 
 In Much Inward Impatience, For He Had Not Got A Word With Lois, And He 
 Had No Excuse For Prolonging his Stay Beyond The   Next Day, As They Sat 
 At Supper, The   Door Opened, And In came Two Ladies. Mr. Dillwyn Was 
 Formally Presented to One Of   Them As To "My Aunt, Mrs. Marx;" The   Other 
 Was Named as "Mrs. Seelye." The   Latter Was A Neat, Brisk Little Body, 
 With A Capable Air And A Mien Of   Business; All Whose Words Came Out As 
 If They Had Been Nicely Picked and Squared, And Sorted and Packed, And 
 Served in order. 
   
   
   
 "Sorry To Interrupt, Mrs. Armadale" She Began, In a Chirruping little 
 Voice. Indeed, Her Whole Air Was That Of   A Notable Little Hen Looking 
 After Her Chickens. Charity Assured her It Was No Interruption. 
   
   
   
 "Mrs. Seelye And I Had Our Tea Hours Ago," Said Mrs. Marx. "I Had 
 Muffins For Her, And We Ate All We Could Then. We Don'T Want No More 
 Now. We'Re On Business." 
   
   
   
 "Yes," Said Mrs. Seelye. "Mrs. Marx And I, We'Ve Got To See Everybody, 
 Pretty Much; And There Ain'T Much Time To Do It In; So You See We Can'T 
 Choose, And We Just Come Here To See What You'Ll Do For Us." 
   
   
   
 "What Do You Want Us To Do For You, Mrs. Seelye?" Lois Asked. 
   
   
   
 "Well, I Don'T Know; Only All You Can. We Want Your Counsel, And Then 
 Your Help. Mr. Seelye He Said, Go To The   Lothrop Girls First. I Didn'T 
 Come _First_, 'Cause There Was Somebody Else On My Way Here; But This 
 Is Our Fourth Call, Ain'T It, Mrs. Marx?" 
   
   
   
 "I Thought I'D Never Get You Away From No. 3," Was The   Answer. 
   
   
   
 "They Were Very Much Interested,--And I Wanted to Make Them All 
 Understand--It Was Important That They Should All Understand--" 
   
   
   
 "And There Are Different Ways Of   Understanin'," Added mrs. Marx; "And 
 There Are A Good Many Of   'Em--The Hicks'S, I Mean; And So, When We 
 Thought We'D Got It All Right With One, We Found Somebody Else Was In a 
 Fog; And Then _He_ Had To Be Fetched out." 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
 "But We Are All In a Fog," Said Madge, Laughing. "What Are You Coming 
 To? And What Are We To Understand?" 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 36 (Two Sunday Schools) Pg 85 
   
   
   
 "It'Ll Be A Big One, Before We Get Through With It," Added her 
 Coadjutor. "Nobody'Ll Be Frightened here If You Call It A Big One To 
 Start With, Mrs. Seelye. I Like To Look Things In the   Face." 
   
   
   
 "So Do We," Said Mrs. Armadale, With A Kind Of   Grim Humour,--"If You 
 Will Give Us A Chance." 
   
   
   
 "Well, It'S About The   Children," Said Mrs. Seelye. 
   
   
   
 "Christmas--" Added mrs. Marx. 
   
   
   
 "Be Quiet, Anne," Said Her Mother. "Go On, Mrs. Seelye. Whose Children?" 
   
   
   
 "I Might Say, They Are All Mr. Seelye'S Children," Said The   Little 
 Lady, Laughing; "And So They Are In a Way, As They Are All Belonging to 
 His Church. He Feels He Is Responsible For The   Care Of   'Em, And He 
 _Don'T_ Want To Lose 'Em. And That'S What It'S All About, And How The 
 Plan Came Up." 
   
   
   
 "How'S He Goin' To Lose 'Em?" Mrs. Armadale Asked, Beginning now To 
 Knit Again. 
   
   
   
 "Well, You See The   Other Church Is Makin' Great Efforts; And They'Re 
 Goin' To Have A Tree." 
   
   
   
 "What Sort Of   A Tree? And What Do They Want A Tree For?" 
   
   
   
 "Why, A Fir Tree!"--And, "Why, A Christmas Tree!" Cried the   Two Ladies 
 Who Advocated the   "Plan," Both In a Breath. 
   
   
   
 "Mother Don'T Know About That," Mrs. Marx Went On. "It'S A New Fashion, 
 Mother,--Come Up Since Your Day. They Have A Green Tree, Planted in a 
 Tub, And Hung With All Sorts Of   Things To Make It Look Pretty; Little 
 Candles Especially; And At Night They Light It Up; And The   Children Are 
 Tickled to Death With It." 
   
   
   
 "In-Doors?" 
   
   
   
 "Why, Of   Course In-Doors. Couldn'T Be Out-Of-Doors, In the   Snow." 
   
   
   
 "I Didn'T Know," Said The   Old Lady; "I Don'T Understand The   New 
 
 
 
 Chapter 36 (Two Sunday Schools) Pg 86 
 Fashions. I Should Think They Would Burn Up The   House, If It'S 
 In-Doors." 
   
   
   
 "O No, No Danger," Explained mrs. Seelye. "They Make Them Wonderfully 
 Pretty, With The   Branches All Hung Full With Glass Balls, And Candles, 
 And Ribbands, And Gilt Toys, And Papers Of   Sugar Plums--Cornucopia, You 
 Know; And Dolls, And Tops, And Jacks, And Trumpets, And Whips, And 
 Everything you Can Think Of,--Till It Is As Full As It Can Be, And The 
 Branches Hang Down With The   Weight; And It Looks Like A Fairy Tree; And 
 Then The   Heavy Presents Lie At The   Foot Round About And Cover The   Tub." 
   
   
   
 "I Should Think The   Children Would Be Delighted," Said Madge. 
   
   
   
 "I Don'T Believe It'S As Much Fun As Santa Claus And The   Stocking," 
 Said Lois. 
   
   
   
 "No, Nor I," Said Mrs. Barclay. 
   
   
   
 "But We Have Nothing to Do With The   Children'S Stockings," Said Mrs. 
 Seelye. "They May Hang Up As Many As They Like. That'S At Home. This Is 
 In The   Church." 
   
   
   
 "O, In the   Church! I Thought You Said It Was In the   House--In People'S 
 Houses," Said Charity. 
   
   
   
 "So It Is; But _This_ Tree Is To Be In the   Church." 
   
   
   
 "What Tree?" 
   
   
   
 "La! How Stupid You Are, Charity," Exclaimed her Aunt. "Didn'T Mrs. 
 Seelye Tell You?--The Tree The   Other Church Are Gettin' Up." 
   
   
   
 "Oh--" Said Charity. "Well, You Can'T Hinder 'Em, As I See." 
   
   
   
 "Don'T Want To Hinder 'Em! What Should We Hinder 'Em For? But We Don'T 
 Want 'Em To Get All Our Chil'En Away; That'S What We'Re Lookin' At." 
   
   
   
 "Do You Think They'D Go?" 
   
   
   
 "Mr. Seelye'S Afraid It'Ll Thin Off The   School Dreadful," Said Mr. 
 Seelye'S Helpmate. 
   
   
   
 "They'Re Safe To Go," Added mrs. Marx. "Ask Children To Step In and See 
 
 
 
 Chapter 36 (Two Sunday Schools) Pg 87 
 Fairyland, And Why Shouldn'T They Go? I'D Go If I Was They. All The 
 Rest Of   The   Year It Ain'T Fairyland In shampuashuh. I'D Go Fast Enough." 
   
   
   
 "Then I Don'T See What You Are Goin' To Do About It," Said Charity, 
 "But To Sit Down And Count Your Chickens That Are Left." 
   
   
   
 "That'S What We Came To Tell You," Said The   Minister'S Wife. 
   
   
   
 "Well, Tell," Said Charity. "You Haven'T Told Yet, Only What The   Other 
 Church Is Going to Do." 
   
   
   
 "Well, We Thought The   Only Way Was For Us To Do Somethin' Too." 
   
   
   
 "Only Not Another Tree," Said Lois. "Not That, For Pity'S Sake." 
   
   
   
 "Why Not?" Asked the   Little Minister'S Wife, With An Air Of   Being 
 Somewhat Taken Aback. "Why Haven'T We As Good A Right To Have A Tree As 
 They Have?" 
   
   
   
 "_Right_, If You Like," Said Lois; "But Right Isn'T All." 
   
   
   
 "Go On, And Let'S Hear Your Wisdom, Lois," Said Her Aunt. "I S'Pose 
 You'Ll Say First, We Can'T Do It." 
   
   
   
 "We Can Do It, Perhaps," Said Lois; "But, Aunt Anne, It Would Make Bad 
 Feeling." 
   
   
   
 "That'S Not Our Look-Out," Rejoined mrs. Marx. "We Haven'T Any Bad 
 Feeling." 
   
   
   
 "No, Not In the   Least," Added mrs. Seelye. "_We_ Only Want To Give Our 
 Children As Good A Time As The   Others Have. That'S Right." 
   
   
   
 "'Let Nothing be Done Through Strife Or Vainglory,'" Mrs. Armadale'S 
 Voice Was Here Heard To Say. 
   
   
   
 "Yes, I Know, Mother, You Have Old-Fashioned ideas," Said Mrs. Marx; 
 "But The   World Ain'T As It Used to Be When You Was A Girl. Now 
 Everybody'S Puttin' Steam On; And Churches And Sunday Schools As Well 
 As All The   Rest. We Have Organs, And Choirs, And Concerts, And 
 Celebrations, And Fairs, And Festivals; And If We Don'T Go With The 
 Crowd, They'Ll Leave Us Behind, You See." 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 36 (Two Sunday Schools) Pg 88 
 "I Don'T Believe In it All!" Said Mrs. Armadale. 
   
   
   
 "Well, Mother, We'Ve Got To Take The   World As We Find It. Now The 
 Children All Through The   Village Are All Agog With The   Story Of   What 
 The Yellow Church Is Goin' To Do; And If The   White Church Don'T Do 
 Somethin', They'Ll All Run T'Other Way--That You May Depend On. 
 Children Are Children." 
   
   
   
 "I Sometimes Think The   Grown Folks Are Children," Said The   Old Lady. 
   
   
   
 "Well, We Ought To Be Children," Said Mrs. Seelye; "I Am Sure We All 
 Know That. But Mr. Seelye Thought This Was The   Only Thing we Could Do." 
   
   
   
 "There Comes In the   Second Difficulty, Mrs. Seelye," Said Lois. "We 
 Cannot Do It." 
   
   
   
 "I Don'T See Why We Cannot. We'Ve As Good A Place For It, Quite." 
   
   
   
 "I Mean, We Cannot Do It Satisfactorily. It Will Not Be The   Same Thing. 
 We Cannot Raise The   Money. Don'T It Take A Good Deal?" 
   
   
   
 "Well, It Takes Considerable. But I Think, If We All Try, We Can Scare 
 It Up Somehow." 
   
   
   
 Lois Shook Her Head. "The Other Church Is Richer Than We Are," She Said. 
   
   
   
 "That'S A Fact," Said Charity. 
   
   
   
 Mrs. Seelye Hesitated. "I Don'T Know," She Said,--"They Have One Or Two 
 Rich Men. Mr. Georges--" 
   
   
   
 "O, And Mr. Flare," Cried madge, "And Buck, And Setterdown; And The 
 Ropers And The   Magnuses." 
   
   
   
 "Yes," Said Mrs. Seelye; "But We Have More People, And There'S None Of 
 'Em To Call Poor. If We Get 'Em Interested--And Those We Have Spoken To 
 Are Very Much Taken With The   Plan--Very Much; I Think It Would Be A 
 Great Disappointment Now If We Were To Stop; And The   Children Have Got 
 Talking about It. I Think We Can Do It; And It Would Be A Very Good 
 Thing for The   Whole Church, To Get 'Em Interested." 
   
   
   
 "You Can Always Get People Interested in play," Said Mrs. Armadale. 
 "What You Want, Is To Get 'Em Interested in work." 
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 36 (Two Sunday Schools) Pg 89 
   
 "There'Ll Be A Good Deal Of   Work About This, Before It'S Over," Said 
 Mrs. Seelye, With A Pleased chuckle. "And I Think, When They Get Their 
 Pride Up, The   Money Will Be Coming." 
   
   
   
 Mrs. Marx Made A Grimace, But Said Nothing. 
   
   
   
 "'When Pride Cometh, Than Cometh Shame,'" Said Mrs. Armadale Quietly. 
   
   
   
 "O Yes, Some Sorts Of   Pride," Said The   Little Minister'S Wife Briskly; 
 "But I Mean A Proper Sort. We Don'T Want To Let Our Church Go Down, And 
 We Don'T Want To Have Our Sunday School Thinned out; And I Can Tell 
 You, Where The   Children Go, There The   Fathers And Mothers Will Be 
 Going, Next Thing." 
   
   
   
 "What Do You Propose To Do?" Said Lois. "We Have Not Fairly Heard Yet." 
   
   
   
 "Well, We Thought We'D Have Some Sort Of   Celebration, And Give The 
 School A Jolly Time Somehow. We'D Dress Up The   Church Handsomely With 
 Evergreens; And Have It Well Lighted; And Then, We Would Have A 
 Christmas Tree If We Could. Or, If We Couldn'T, Then We'D Have A Real 
 Good Hot Supper, And Give The   Children Presents. But I'M Afraid, If We 
 Don'T Have A Tree, They'Ll All Run Off To The   Other Church; And I Think 
 They'Re Going already, So As To Get Asked. Mr. Seelye Said The 
 Attendance Was Real Thin Last Sabbath." 
   
   
   
 There Followed an Animated discussion Of   The   Whole Subject, With Every 
 Point Brought Up Again, And Again And Again. The   Talkers Were, For The 
 Most Part, Charity And Madge, With The   Two Ladies Who Had Come In; Mrs. 
 Armadale Rarely Throwing in a Word, Which Always Seemed to Have A 
 Disturbing power; And Things Were Taken Up And Gone Over Anew To Get 
 Rid Of   The   Disturbance. Lois Sat Silent And Played with Her Spoon. Mrs. 
 Barclay And Philip Listened with Grave Amusement. 
   
   
   
 "Well, I Can'T Sit Here All Night," Said Charity At Last, Rising from 
 Behind Her Tea-Board. "Madge And Lois,--Just Jump Up And Put Away The 
 Things, Won'T You; And Hand Me Up The   Knives And Plates. Don'T Trouble 
 Yourself, Mrs. Barclay. If Other Folks In the   Village Are As Busy As I 
 Am, You'Ll Come Short Home For Your Christmas Work, Mrs. Seelye." 
   
   
   
 "It'S The   Busy People Always That Help," Said The   Little Lady 
 Propitiatingly. 
   
   
   
 "That'S A Fact; But I Don'T See No End O' This To Take Hold Of. You 
 Hain'T Got The   Money; And If You Had It, You Don'T Know What You Want; 
 And If You Did Know, It Ain'T In shampuashuh; And I Don'T See Who Is To 
 Go To New York Or New Haven, Shopping for You. And If You Had It, Who 
 Knows How To Fix A Christmas Tree? Not A Soul In our Church." 
   
   
   
 Mrs. Barclay And Her Guest Withdrew At This Point Of   The   Discussion. 
 But Later, When The   Visitors Were Gone, She Opened the   Door Of   Her 
 
 
 
 Chapter 36 (Two Sunday Schools) Pg 90 
 Room, And Said, 
   
   
   
 "Madge And Lois, Can You Come In here For A Few Minutes? It Is 
 Business." 
   
   
   
 The Two Girls Came In, Madge A Little Eagerly; Lois, Mrs. Barclay 
 Fancied, With A Manner Of   Some Reserve. 
   
   
   
 "Mr. Dillwyn Has Something to Suggest," She Began, "About This Plan We 
 Have Heard Talked over; That Is, If You Care About It'S Being carried 
 Into Execution." 
   
   
   
 "I Care, Of   Course," Said Madge. "If It Is To Be Done, I Think It Will 
 Be Great Fun." 
   
   
   
 "If It Is To Be Done," Lois Repeated. "Grandmother Does Not Approve Of 
 It; And I Always Think, What She Does Not Like, I Must Not Like." 
   
   
   
 "Always?" Asked mr. Dillwyn. 
   
   
   
 "I Try To Have It Always. Grandmother Thinks That The   Way--The Best 
 Way--To Keep A Sunday School Together, Is To Make The   Lessons 
 Interesting." 
   
   
   
 "I Am Sure She Is Right!" Said Mr. Dillwyn. 
   
   
   
 "But To The   Point," Said Mrs. Barclay. "Lois, They Will Do This Thing, 
 I Can See. The   Question Now Is, Do You Care Whether It Is Done Ill Or 
 Well?" 
   
   
   
 "Certainly! If It Is Done, I Should Wish It To Be As Well Done As 
 Possible. Failure Is More Than Failure." 
   
   
   
 "How About Ways And Means?" 
   
   
   
 "Money? O, If The   People All Set Their Hearts On It, They Could Do It 
 Well Enough. But They Are Slow To Take Hold Of   Anything out Of   The 
 Common Run They Are Accustomed to. The   Wheels Go In ruts At 
 Shampuashuh." 
   
   
   
 "Shampuashuh Is Not The   Only Place," Said Philip. "Then Will You Let An 
 Outsider Help?" 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 36 (Two Sunday Schools) Pg 91 
 "Help? We Would Be Very Glad Of   Help," Said Madge; But Lois Remarked, 
 "I Think The   Church Ought To Do It Themselves, If They Want To Do It." 
   
   
   
 "Well, Hear My Plan," Said Mr. Dillwyn. "I Think You Objected to Two 
 Rival Trees?" 
   
   
   
 "I Object To Rival Anythings," Said Lois; "In Church Matters 
 Especially." 
   
   
   
 "Then I Propose That No Tree Be Set Up, But Instead, That You Let Santa 
 Claus Come In with His Sledge." 
   
   
   
 "Santa Claus!" Cried lois. "Who Would Be Santa Claus?" 
   
   
   
 "An Old Man In a White Mantle, His Head And Beard Covered with Snow And 
 Fringed with Icicles; His Dress Of   Fur; His Sledge A Large One, And 
 Well Heaped up With Things To Delight The   Children. What Do You Think?" 
   
   
   
 Madge'S Colour Rose, And Lois'S Eye Took A Sparkle; Both Were Silent. 
 Then Madge Spoke. 
   
   
   
 "I Don'T See How That Plan Could Be Carried out, Any More Than The 
 Other. It Is A Great Deal _Better_, It Is Magnificent; But It Is A 
 Great Deal Too Magnificent For Shampuashuh." 
   
   
   
 "Why So?" 
   
   
   
 "Nobody Here Knows How To Do It." 
   
   
   
 "I Know How." 
   
   
   
 "You! O But,--That Would Be Too Much--" 
   
   
   
 "All You Have To Do Is To Get The   Other Things Ready, And Let It Be 
 Known That At The   Proper Time Santa Claus Will Appear, With A 
 Well-Furnished sled. Sharp On Time." 
   
   
   
 "Well-Furnished!--But There Again--I Don'T Believe We Can Raise Money 
 Enough For That." 
   
   
   
 "How Much Money?" Asked dillwyn, With An Amused smile. 
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 36 (Two Sunday Schools) Pg 92 
   
 "O, I Can'T Tell--I Suppose A Hundred dollars At Least." 
   
   
   
 "I Have As Much As That Lying useless--It May Just As Well Do Some 
 Good. It Never Was Heard That Anybody But Santa Claus Furnished his Own 
 Sled. If You Will Allow Me, I Will Take Care Of   That." 
   
   
   
 "How Splendid!" Cried madge. "But It Is Too Much; It Wouldn'T Be Right 
 For Us To Let You Do All That For A Church That Is Nothing to You." 
   
   
   
 "On The   Contrary, You Ought To Encourage Me In my First Endeavours To 
 Make Myself Of   Some Use In the   World. Miss Madge, I Have Never, So Far, 
 Done A Bit Of   Good In my Life." 
   
   
   
 "O, Mr. Dillwyn! I Cannot Believe That. People Do Not Grow Useful So 
 All Of   A Sudden, Without Practice," Said Madge, Hitting a Great General 
 Truth. 
   
   
   
 "It Is A Fact, However," Said He, Half Lightly, And Yet Evidently 
 Meaning what He Said. "I Have Lived thirty-Two Years In the 
 World--Nearly Thirty-Three--Without Making my Life Of   The   Least Use To 
 Anybody So Far As I Know. Do You Wonder That I Seize A Chance?" 
   
   
   
 Lois'S Eyes Were Suddenly Lifted, And Then As Suddenly Lowered; She Did 
 Not Speak. 
   
   
   
 "I Can Read That," He Said Laughingly, For His Eyes Had Caught The 
 Glance. "You Mean, If I Am So Eager For Chances, I Might Make Them! 
 Miss Lois, I Do Not Know How." 
   
   
   
 "Come, Philip," Said Mrs. Barclay, "You Are Making your Character 
 Unnecessarily Bad. I Know You Better Than That. Think What You Have 
 Done For Me." 
   
   
   
 "I Beg Your Pardon," Said He. "Think What You Have Done For Me. That 
 Score Cannot Be Reckoned to My Favour. Have No Scruples, Miss Madge, 
 About Employing me. Though I Believe Miss Lois Thinks The   Good Of   This 
 Undertaking a Doubtful One. How Many Children Does Your School Number?" 
   
   
   
 "All Together,--And They Would Be Sure For Once To Be All 
 Together!--There Are A Hundred and Fifty." 
   
   
   
 "Have You The   Names?" 
   
   
   
 "O, Certainly." 
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 36 (Two Sunday Schools) Pg 93 
   
 "And Ages--Proximately?" 
   
   
   
 "Yes, That Too." 
   
   
   
 "And You Know Something, I Suppose, About Many Of   Them; Something about 
 Their Families And Conditions?" 
   
   
   
 "About _All_ Of   Them?" Said Madge. "Yes, Indeed we Do." 
   
   
   
 "Till Mrs. Barclay Came, You Must Understand," Put In lois Here, "We 
 Had Nothing, Or Not Much, To Study Besides Shampuashuh; So We Studied 
 That." 
   
   
   
 "And Since Mrs. Barclay Came?--" Asked philip. 
   
   
   
 "O, Mrs. Barclay Has Been Opening one Door After Another Of   Knowledge, 
 And We Have Been Peeping in." 
   
   
   
 "And What Special Door Offers Most Attraction To Your View, Of   Them 
 All?" 
   
   
   
 "I Don'T Know. I Think, Perhaps, For Me, Geology And Mineralogy; But 
 Almost Every One Helps In the   Study Of   The   Bible." 
   
   
   
 "O, Do They!" Said Dillwyn Somewhat Dryly. 
   
   
   
 "I Like Music Best," Said Madge. 
   
   
   
 "But That Is Not A Door Into Knowledge," Objected lois. 
   
   
   
 "I Meant, Of   All The   Doors Mrs. Barclay Has Opened to Us." 
   
   
   
 "Mrs. Barclay Is A Favoured person." 
   
   
   
 "It Is We That Are Favoured," Said Madge. "Our Life Is A Different 
 Thing since She Came. We Hope She Will Never Go Away." Then Madge 
 Coloured, With Some Sudden Thought, And She Went Back To The   Former 
 Subject. "Why Do You Ask About The   Children'S Ages And All That, Mr. 
 Dillwyn?" 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 36 (Two Sunday Schools) Pg 94 
 "I Was Thinking-- When A Thing is To Be Done, I Like To Do It Well. It 
 Occurred to Me, That As Santa Claus Must Have Something on His Sledge 
 For Each One, It Might Be Good, If Possible, To Secure Some Adaptation 
 Or Fitness In the   Gift. Those Who Would Like Books Should Have Books, 
 And The   Right Books; And Playthings Had Better Not Go Astray, If We Can 
 Help It; And Perhaps The   Poorer Children Would Be Better For Articles 
 Of Clothing.--I Am Only Throwing out Hints." 
   
   
   
 "Capital Hints!" Said Lois. "You Mean, If We Can Tell What Would Be 
 Good For Each One--I Think We Can, Pretty Nearly. But There Are Few 
 _Poor_ People In shampuashuh, Mr. Dillwyn." 
   
   
   
 "Shampuashuh Is A Happy Place." 
   
   
   
 "This Plan Will Give You An Immensity Of   Work, Mr. Dillwyn." 
   
   
   
 "What Then?" 
   
   
   
 "I Have Scruples. It Is Not Fair To Let You Do It. What Is Shampuashuh 
 To You?" 
   
   
   
 "It Might Be Difficult To Make That Computation," Said Mr. Dillwyn 
 Dryly. "Have No Scruples, Miss Lois. As I Told You, I Have Nothing 
 Better To Do With Myself. If You Can Make Me Useful, It Will Be A Rare 
 Chance." 
   
   
   
 "But There Are Plenty Of   Other Things To Do, Mr. Dillwyn," Said Lois. 
   
   
   
 He Gave Her Only A Glance And Smile By Way Of   Answer, And Plunged 
 Immediately Into The   Business Question With Madge. Lois Sat By, Silent 
 And Wondering, Till All Was Settled that Could Be Settled that Evening, 
 And She And Madge Went Back To The   Other Room. 
   
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 37 (An Oyster Supper) Pg 95 
 "Hurrah!" Cried madge, But Softly--"Now It Will Go! Mother! What Do You 
 Think? Guess, Charity! Mr. Dillwyn Is Going to Take Our Sunday School 
 Celebration On Himself; He'S Going to Do It; And We'Re To Have, Not A 
 Stupid Christmas Tree, But Santa Claus And His Sled; And He'Ll Be Santa 
 Claus! Won'T It Be Fun?" 
   
   
   
 "Who'Ll Be Santa Claus?" Said Charity, Looking stupefied. 
   
   
   
 "Mr. Dillwyn. In fact, He'Ll Be Santa Claus And His Sled too; He'Ll Do 
 The Whole Thing. All We Have Got To Do Is To Dress The   Children And 
 Ourselves, And Light Up The   Church." 
   
   
   
 "Will The   Committees Like That?" 
   
   
   
 "Like It? Of   Course They Will! Like It, Indeed! Don'T You See It Will 
 Save Them All Expense? They'Ll Have Nothing to Do But Dress Up And 
 Light Up." 
   
   
   
 "And Warm Up Too, I Hope. What Makes Mr. Dillwyn Do All That? I Don'T 
 Just Make Out." 
   
   
   
 "I'Ll Tell You," Said Madge, Shaking her Finger At The   Others 
 Impressively. "He'S After Mrs. Barclay. So This Gives Him A Chance To 
 Come Here Again, Don'T You See?" 
   
   
   
 "After Mrs. Barclay?" Repeated charity. "I Want To Know!" 
   
   
   
 "I Don'T Believe It," Said Lois. "She Is Too Old For Him." 
   
   
   
 "She'S Not Old," Said Madge. "And He Is No Chicken, My Dear. You'Ll 
 See. It'S She He'S After. He'S Coming next Time As Santa Claus, That'S 
 All. And We Have Got To Make Out A List Of   Things--Things For 
 Presents,--For Every Individual Girl And Boy In the   Sunday School; 
 There'S A Job For You. Santa Claus Will Want A Big Sled." 
   
   
   
 "_Who_ Is Going to Do _What?_" Inquired mrs. Armadale Here. "I Don'T 
 Understand, You Speak So Fast, Children." 
   
   
   
 "Mother, Instead Of   A Christmas Tree, We Are Going to Have Santa Claus 
 And His Sled; And The   Sled is To Be Heaped full Of   Presents For All The 
 Children; And Mr. Dillwyn Is Going to Do It, And Get The   Presents, And 
 Be Santa Claus Himself." 
   
   
   
 "How, _Be_ Santa Claus?" 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 37 (An Oyster Supper) Pg 96 
 "Why, He Will Dress Up Like Santa Claus, And Come In with His Sled." 
   
   
   
 "Where?" 
   
   
   
 "In The   Church, Grandmother; There Is No Other Place. The   Other Church 
 Have Their Sunday-School Room You Know; But We Have None." 
   
   
   
 "They Are Going to Have Their Tree In the   Church, Though," Said 
 Charity; "They Reckon The   Sunday-School Room Won'T Be Big Enough To 
 Hold All The   Folks." 
   
   
   
 "Are They Going to Turn The   Church Into A Playhouse?" Mrs. Armadale 
 Asked. 
   
   
   
 "It'S For The   Sake Of   The   Church And The   School, You Know, Mother. 
 Santa Claus Will Come In with His Sled and Give His Presents,--That Is 
 All. At Least, That Is All The   Play There Will Be." 
   
   
   
 "What Else Will There Be?" 
   
   
   
 "O, There'Ll Be Singing, Grandma," Said Madge; "Hymns And Carols And 
 Such Things, That The   Children Will Sing; And Speeches And Prayers, I 
 Suppose." 
   
   
   
 "The Church Used to Be God'S House, In my Day," Said The   Old Lady, With 
 A Concerned face, Looking up From Her Knitting, While Her Fingers Went 
 On With Their Work As Busily As Ever. 
   
   
   
 "They Don'T Mean It For Anything else, Grandmother," Said Madge. "It'S 
 All For The   Sake Of   The   School." 
   
   
   
 "Maybe They Think So," The   Old Lady Answered. 
   
   
   
 "What Else, Mother? What Else Should It Be?" 
   
   
   
 But This She Did Not Answer. 
   
   
   
 "What'S Mr. Dillwyn Got To Do With It?" She Asked presently. 
   
   
   
 "He'S Going to Help," Said Madge. "It'S Nothing but Kindness. He 
 Supposes It Is Something good To Do, And He Says He'D Like To Be 
 Useful." 
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 37 (An Oyster Supper) Pg 97 
   
 "He Hain'T No Idea How," Said Mrs. Armadale, "Poor Creatur'! You Can 
 Tell Him, It Ain'T The   Lord'S Work He'S Doin'." 
   
   
   
 "But We Cannot Tell Him That, Mother," Said Lois. 
   
   
   
 "If The   People Want To Have This Celebration,--And They Will,--Hadn'T 
 We Better Make It A Good One? Is It Really A Bad Thing?" 
   
   
   
 "The Devil'S Ways Never Help No One To Heaven, Child, Not If They Go 
 Singin' Hymns All The   Way." 
   
   
   
 "But, Mother!" Cried madge. "Mr. Dillwyn Ain'T A Christian, Maybe, But 
 He Ain'T As Bad As That." 
   
   
   
 "I Didn'T Mean Mr. Dillwyn, Dear, Nor No One Else. I Meant Theatre 
 Work." 
   
   
   
 "_Santa Claus_, Mother?" 
   
   
   
 "It'S Actin', Ain'T It?" 
   
   
   
 The Girls Looked at Each Other. 
   
   
   
 "There'S Very Little Of   Anything like Acting about It," Lois Said. 
   
   
   
 "'Make Straight Paths For Your Feet'!" Said Mrs. Armadale, Rising to Go 
 To Bed. "'Make Straight Paths For Your Feet,' Children. Straight Ways 
 Is The   Shortest Too. If The   Chil'En That Don'T Love Their Teachers 
 Wants To Go To The   Yellow Church, Let 'Em Go. I'D Rather Have The   Lord 
 In A Little School, Than Santa Claus In a Big One." 
   
   
   
 She Was Leaving the   Room, But The   Girls Stayed her And Begged to Know 
 What They Should Do In the   Matter Of   The   Lists They Were Engaged to 
 Prepare For Mr. Dillwyn. 
   
   
   
 "You Must Do What You Think Best," She Said. "Only Don'T Be Mixed up 
 With It All Any More Than You Can Help, Lois." 
   
   
   
 Why Did The   Name Of   One Child Come To Her Lips And Not The   Other? Did 
 The Old Lady'S Affection, Or Natural Acuteness, Discern That Mr. 
 Dillwyn Was _Not_ Drawn To Shampuashuh By Any Particular Admiration Of 
 His Friend Mrs. Barclay? Had She Some Of   That Preternatural Intuition, 
 Plain Old Country Woman Though She Was, Which Makes A Woman See The 
 
 
 
 Chapter 37 (An Oyster Supper) Pg 98 
 Invisible And Hear The   Inaudible? Which Serves As One Of   The   Natural 
 Means Of   Defence Granted to The   Weaker Creatures. I Do Not Know; I Do 
 Not Think She Knew; However, The   Warning was Given, And Not On That 
 Occasion Alone. And As Lois Heeded all Her Grandmother'S Admonitions, 
 Although In this Case Without The   Most Remote Perception Of   This 
 Possible Ground To Them, It Followed that Mr. Dillwyn Gained less By 
 His Motion Than He Had Hoped and Anticipated. 
   
   
   
 The Scheme Went Forward, Hailed by The   Whole Community Belonging to The 
 White Church, With The   Single Exception Of   Mrs. Armadale. It Went 
 Forward And Was Brought To A Successful Termination. I Might Say, A 
 Triumphant Termination; Only The   Triumph Was Not For Mr. Dillwyn, Or 
 Not In the   Line Where He Wanted it. He Did His Part Admirably. A Better 
 Santa Claus Was Never Seen, Nor A Better Filled sled. And Genial 
 Pleasantness, And Wise Management, And Cool Generalship, And Fun And 
 Kindness, Were Never Better Represented. So It Was All Through The 
 Consultations And Arrangements That Preceded the   Festival, As Well As 
 On The   Grand Occasion Itself; And Shampuashuh Will Long Remember The 
 Time With Wonder And Exultation; But It Was Madge Who Was Mr. Dillwyn'S 
 Coadjutor And Fellow-Counsellor. It Was Madge And Mrs. Barclay Who 
 Helped him In all The   Work Of   Preparing and Ticketing the   Parcels For 
 The Sled; As Well As In the   Prior Deliberations As To What The   Parcels 
 Should Be. Madge Seemed to Be The   One At Hand Always To Answer A 
 Question. Madge Went With Him To The   Church; And In general, Lois, 
 Though Sympathizing and Curious, And Interested and Amused, Was Very 
 Much Out Of   The   Play. Not So Entirely As To Make The   Fact Striking; 
 Only Enough To Leave Mr. Dillwyn Disappointed and Tantalized. 
   
   
   
 I Am Not Going into A Description Of   The   Festival And The   Show. The 
 Children Sang; The   Minister Made A Speech To Them, Not Ten Consecutive 
 Words Of   Which Were Listened to By Three-Quarters Of   The   People. The 
 Church Was Filled with Men, Women, And Children; The   Walls Were Hung 
 With Festoons And Wreaths, And Emblazoned with Mottoes; The   Anthems And 
 Carols Followed each Other Till The   Last Thread Of   Patience In the 
 Waiting crowd Gave Way. And At Last Came What They Were Waiting 
 For--Santa Claus, All Fur Robes And Snow And Icicles, Dragging after 
 Him A Sledge That Looked like A Small Mountain With The   Heap Of 
 Articles Piled and Packed upon It. And Then Followed a Very Busy And 
 Delightful Hour And A Half, During which The   Business Was--The 
 Distribution Of   Pleasure. It Was Such Warm Work For Santa Claus, That 
 At The   Time He Had No Leisure For Thinking. Naturally, The   Thinking 
 Came Afterwards. 
   
   
   
 He And Mrs. Barclay Sat By Her Fire, Resting, After Coming home From 
 The Church. Dillwyn Was Very Silent And Meditative. 
   
   
   
 "You Must Be Glad It Is Done, Philip," Said His Friend, Watching him, 
 And Wishing to Get At His Thoughts. 
   
   
   
 "I Have No Particular Reason To Be Glad." 
   
   
   
 "You Have Done A Good Thing." 
   
   
   
 "I Am Not Sure If It Is A Good Thing. Mrs. Armadale Does Not Think So." 
 
 
 
 Chapter 37 (An Oyster Supper) Pg 99 
 "Mrs. Armadale Has Rather Narrow Notions." 
   
   
   
 "I Don'T Know. I Should Be Glad To Be Sure She Is Not Right. It'S 
 Discouraging," He Added, With Half A Smile;--"For The   First Time In my 
 Life I Set Myself To Work; And Now Am Not At All Certain That I Might 
 Not Just As Well Have Been Idle." 
   
   
   
 "Work Is A Good Thing in itself," Said Mrs. Barclay, Smiling. 
   
   
   
 "Pardon Me!--Work For An End. Work Without An End--Or With The   End Not 
 Attained--It Is No Better Than A Squirrel In a Wheel." 
   
   
   
 "You Have Given A Great Deal Of   Pleasure." 
   
   
   
 "To The   Children! For Ought I Know, They Might Have Been Just As Well 
 Without It. There Will Be A Reaction To-Morrow, Very Likely; And Then 
 They Will Wish They Had Gone To See The   Christmas Tree At The   Other 
 Church." 
   
   
   
 "But They Were Kept At Their Own Church." 
   
   
   
 "How Do I Know That Is Any Good? Perhaps The   Teaching at The   Other 
 School Is The   Best." 
   
   
   
 "You Are Tired," Said Mrs. Barclay Sympathizingly. 
   
   
   
 "Not That. I Have Done Nothing to Tire Me; But It Strikes Me It Is Very 
 Difficult To See One'S Ends In doing good; Much More Difficult Than To 
 See The   Way To The   Ends." 
   
   
   
 "You Have Partly Missed your End, Haven'T You?" Said Mrs. Barclay 
 Softly. 
   
   
   
 He Moved a Little Restlessly In his Chair; Then Got Up And Began To 
 Walk About The   Room; Then Came And Sat Down Again. 
   
   
   
 "What Are You Going to Do Next?" She Asked in the   Same Way. 
   
   
   
 "Suppose You Invite Them--The Two Girls--Or Her Alone--To Make You A 
 Visit In new York?" 
   
   
   
 "Where?" 
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 37 (An Oyster Supper) Pg 100 
   
 "At Any Hotel You Prefer; Say, The   Windsor." 
   
   
   
 "O Philip, Philip!"-- 
   
   
   
 "What?--You Could Have Pleasant Rooms, And Be Quite Private And 
 Comfortable; As Much As If You Were In your Own House." 
   
   
   
 "And What Should We Cost You?" 
   
   
   
 "You Are Not Thinking of   _That?_" Said He. "I Will Get You A House, If 
 You Like It Better; But Then You Would Have The   Trouble Of   A Staff Of 
 Servants. I Think The   Windsor Would Be Much The   Easiest Plan." 
   
   
   
 "You _Are_ In earnest!" 
   
   
   
 "In Earnest!" He Repeated in surprise. "Have You Ever Questioned it? 
 You Judge Because You Never Saw Me In earnest In anything before In my 
 Life." 
   
   
   
 "No, Indeed," Said Mrs. Barclay. "I Always Knew It Was In you. What You 
 Wanted was Only An Object." 
   
   
   
 "What Do You Say To My Plan?" 
   
   
   
 "I Am Afraid They Would Not Come. There Is The   Care Of   The   Old 
 Grandmother; They Would Not Leave Everything to Their Sister Alone." 
   
   
   
 "Tempt Them With Pictures And Music, And The   Opera." 
   
   
   
 "The Opera! Philip, She Would Not Go To A Theatre, Or Anything 
 Theatrical, For Any Consideration. They Are Very Strict On That Point, 
 And Sunday-Keeping, And Dancing. Do Not Speak To Her Of   The   Opera." 
   
   
   
 "They Are Not So Far Wrong. I Never Saw A Decent Opera Yet In my Life." 
   
   
   
 "Philip!" Exclaimed mrs. Barclay In the   Greatest Surprise. "I Never 
 Heard You Say Anything like That Before." 
   
   
   
 "I Suppose It Makes A Difference," He Said Thoughtfully, "With What 
 Eyes A Man Looks At A Thing. And Dancing--I Don'T Think I Care To See 
 Her Dance." 
 
 
 
 Chapter 37 (An Oyster Supper) Pg 101 
 "Philip! You Are Extravagant." 
   
   
   
 "I Believe I Should Be Fit To Commit Murder If I Saw Her Waltzing with 
 Anybody." 
   
   
   
 "Jealous Already?" Said Mrs. Barclay Slyly. 
   
   
   
 "If You Like.--Do You See Her As I See Her?" He Asked abruptly. 
   
   
   
 There Was A Tone In the   Last Words Which Gave Mrs. Barclay'S Heart A 
 Kind Of   Constriction. She Answered with Gentle Sympathy, "I Think I Do." 
   
   
   
 "I Have Seen Handsomer Women," He Went On;--"Madge Is Handsomer, In a 
 Way; You May See Many Women More Beautiful, According to The   Rules; But 
 I Never Saw Any One So Lovely!" 
   
   
   
 "I Quite Agree With You," Said Mrs. Barclay. 
   
   
   
 "I Never Saw Anything so Lovely!" He Repeated. "She Is Most Like--" 
   
   
   
 "A White Lily," Said Mrs. Barclay. 
   
   
   
 "No, That Is Not Her Type. No. As Long As The   World Stands, A Rose Just 
 Open Will Remain The   Fairest Similitude For A Perfect Woman. It'S 
 Commonness Cannot Hinder That. She Is Not An Unearthly Dendrobium, She 
 Is An Earthly Rose-- 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
    'Not Too Good 
    For Human Nature'S Daily Food,' 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
 --If One Could Find The   Right Sort Of   Human Nature! Just So Fresh, 
 Unconscious, And Fair; With Just Such A Dignity Of   Purity About Her. I 
 Cannot Fancy Her At The   Opera, Or Dancing." 
   
   
   
 "A Sort Of   Unapproachable Tea-Rose?" Said Mrs. Barclay, Smiling at Him, 
 Though Her Eyes Were Wistful. 
 
 
 
 Chapter 37 (An Oyster Supper) Pg 102 
   
   
 "No," Said He, "A Tea-Rose Is Too Fragile. There Is Nothing of   That 
 About Her, Thank Heaven!" 
   
   
   
 "No," Said Mrs. Barclay, "There Is Nothing but Sound Healthy Life About 
 Her; Mental And Bodily; And I Agree With You, Sweet As Ever A Human 
 Life Can Be. In the   Garden Or At Her Books,--Hark! That Is For Supper." 
   
   
   
 For Here There Came A Slight Tap On The   Door. 
   
   
   
 "Supper!" Cried philip. 
   
   
   
 "Yes; It Is Rather Late, And The   Girls Promised me A Cup Of   Coffee, 
 After Your Exertions! But I Dare Say Everybody Wants Some Refreshment 
 By This Time. Come!" 
   
   
   
 There Was A Cheery Supper Table Spread In the   Dining-Room; Coffee, 
 Indeed, And Stoney Creek Oysters, And Excellently Cooked. Only Charity 
 And Madge Were There; Mrs. Armadale Had Gone To Bed, And Lois Was 
 Attending upon Her. Mr. Diliwyn, However, Was Served assiduously. 
   
   
   
 "I Hope You'Re Hungry! You'Ve Done A Load Of   Good This Evening, Mr. 
 Dillwyn," Said Charity, As She Gave Him His Coffee. 
   
   
   
 "Thank You. I Don'T See The   Connection," Said Philip, With An Air As 
 Different As Possible From That He Had Worn In talking to Mrs. Barclay 
 In The   Next Room. 
   
   
   
 "People Ought To Be Hungry When They Have Done A Great Deal Of   Work," 
 Madge Explained, As She Gave Him A Plate Of   Oysters. 
   
   
   
 "I Do Not Feel That I Have Done Any Work." 
   
   
   
 "O, Well! I Suppose It Was Play To You," Said Charity, "But That Don'T 
 Make Any Difference. You'Ve Done A Load Of   Good. Why, The   Children Will 
 Never Be Able To Forget It, Nor The   Grown Folks Either, As Far As That 
 Goes; They'Ll Talk Of   It, And Of   You, For Two Years, And More." 
   
   
   
 "I Am Doubtful About The   Real Worth Of   Fame, Miss Charity, Even When It 
 Lasts Two Years." 
   
   
   
 "O, But You'Ve Done So Much _Good!_" Said The   Lady. "Everybody Sees Now 
 That The   White Church Can Hold Her Own. Nobody'Ll Think Of   Making 
 Disagreeable Comparisons, If They Have Fifty Christmas Trees." 
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 37 (An Oyster Supper) Pg 103 
   
 "Suppose I Had Helped the   Yellow Church?" 
   
   
   
 Charity Looked as If She Did Not Know What He Would Be At. Just Then In 
 Came Lois And Took Her Place At The   Table; And Mr. Dillwyn Forgot All 
 About Rival Churches. 
   
   
   
 "Here'S Mr. Dillwyn Don'T Think He'S Done Any Good, Lois!" Cried her 
 Elder Sister. "Do Cheer Him Up A Little. I Think It'S A Shame To Talk 
 So. Why, We'Ve Done All We Wanted to, And More. There Won'T A Soul Go 
 Away From Our Church Or School After This, Now They See What We Can Do; 
 And I Shouldn'T Wonder If We Got Some Accessions From The   Other 
 Instead. And Here'S Mr. Dillwyn Says He Don'T Know As He'S Done Any 
 Good!" 
   
   
   
 Lois Lifted her Eyes And Met His, And They Both Smiled. 
   
   
   
 "Miss Lois Sees The   Matter As I Do," He Said. "These Are Capital 
 Oysters. Where Do They Come From?" 
   
   
   
 "But, Philip," Said Mrs. Barclay, "You Have Given A Great Deal Of 
 Pleasure. Isn'T That Good?" 
   
   
   
 "Depends--" Said He. "Probably It Will Be Followed by A Reaction." 
   
   
   
 "And You Have Kept The   Church Together," Added charity, Who Was Zealous. 
   
   
   
 "By A Rope Of   Sand, Then, Miss Charity." 
   
   
   
 "At Any Rate, Mr. Dillwyn, You _Meant_ To Do Good," Lois Put In here. 
   
   
   
 "I Do Not Know, Miss Lois. I Am Afraid I Was Thinking more Of   Pleasure, 
 Myself; And Shall Experience Myself The   Reaction I Spoke Of. I Think I 
 Feel The   Shadow Of   It Already, As A Coming event." 
   
   
   
 "But If We Aren'T To Have Any Pleasure, Because Afterwards We Feel A 
 Little Flat,--And Of   Course We Do," Said Charity; "Everybody Knows 
 That. But, For Instance, If We'Re Not To Have Green Peas In summer, 
 Because We Can'T Have 'Em Any Way But Dry In winter,--Things Would Be 
 Very Queer! Queerer Than They Are; And They'Re Queer Enough Already." 
   
   
   
 This Speech Called forth Some Merriment. 
   
   
   
 "You Think Even The   Dry Remains Of   Pleasure Are Better Than Nothing!" 
 
 
 
 Chapter 37 (An Oyster Supper) Pg 104 
 Said Philip. "Perhaps You Are Right." 
   
   
   
 "And To Have Those, We _Must_ Have Had The   Green Reality," Said Lois 
 Merrily. 
   
   
   
 "I Wonder If There Is Any Way Of   Keeping pleasure Green," Said Dillwyn. 
   
   
   
 "Vain, Vain, Mr. Dillwyn!" Said Mrs. Barclay. "_Tout Lasse, Tout Casse, 
 Tout Passe!_ Don'T You Know? Solomon Said, I Believe, That All Was 
 Vanity. And He Ought To Know." 
   
   
   
 "But He Didn'T Know," Said Lois Quickly. 
   
   
   
 "Lois!" Said Charity--"It'S In the   Bible." 
   
   
   
 "I Know It Is In the   Bible That He Said So," Lois Rejoined merrily. 
   
   
   
 "Was He Not Right, Then?" Mr. Dillwyn Asked. 
   
   
   
 "Perhaps," Lois Answered, Now Gravely, "If You Take Simply His View." 
   
   
   
 "What Was His View? Won'T You Explain?" 
   
   
   
 "I Suppose You Ain'T Going to Set Up To Be Wiser Than Solomon, At This 
 Time Of   Day," Said Charity Severely. But That Stirred lois'S Merriment 
 Again. 
   
   
   
 "Explain, Miss Lois!" Said Dillwyn. 
   
   
   
 "I Am Not Solomon, That I Should Preach," She Said. 
   
   
   
 "You Just Said You Knew Better Than He," Said Charity. "How You Should 
 Know Better Than The   Bible, I Don'T See. It'S News." 
   
   
   
 "Why, Charity, Solomon Was Not A Good Man." 
   
   
   
 "How Came He To Write Proverbs, Then?" 
   
   
   
 "At Least He Was Not Always A Good Man." 
 
 
 
 Chapter 37 (An Oyster Supper) Pg 105 
   
 "That Don'T Hinder His Knowing what Was Vanity, Does It?" 
   
   
   
 "But, Lois!" Said Mrs. Barclay.  "Go Back, And Tell Us Your Secret, If 
 You Have One. How Was Solomon'S View Mistaken? Or What Is Yours?" 
   
   
   
 "These Things Were All Given For Our Pleasure, Mrs. Barclay." 
   
   
   
 "But They Die--And They Go--And They Fade," Said Mrs. Barclay. 
   
   
   
 "You Will Not Understand Me," Said Lois; "And Yet It Is True. If You 
 Are Christ'S--Then, 'All Things Are Yours;... The   World, Or Life, Or 
 _Death_, Or Things Present, Or Things To Come: All Are Yours.' There Is 
 No Loss, But There Comes More Gain." 
   
   
   
 "I Wish You'D Let Mr. Dillwyn Have Some More Oysters," Said Charity; 
 "And, Madge, Do Hand Along Mrs. Barclay'S Cup. You Mustn'T Talk, If You 
 Can'T Eat At The   Same Time. Lois Ain'T Solomon Yet, If She Does Preach. 
 You Shut Up, Lois, And Mind Your Supper. My Rule Is, To Enjoy Things As 
 I Go Along; And Just Now, It'S Oysters." 
   
   
   
 "I Will Say For Lois," Here Put In mrs. Barclay, "That She Does 
 Exemplify Her Own Principles. I Never Knew Anybody With Such A Spring 
 Of Perpetual Enjoyment." 
   
   
   
 "She Ain'T Happier Than The   Rest Of   Us," Said The   Elder Sister. 
   
   
   
 "Not So Happy As Grandmother," Added madge. "At Least, Grandmother 
 Would Say So. I Don'T Know." 
   
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 38 (Breaking up) Pg 106 
 Mr. Dillwyn Went Away. Things Returned to Their Normal Condition At 
 
 
 
 Chapter 38 (Breaking up) Pg 107 
 Shampuashuh, Saving that For A While There Was A Great Deal Of   Talk 
 About The   Santa Clans Doings And The   Principal Actor In them, And No 
 End Of   Speculations As To His Inducements And Purposes To Be Served in 
 Taking so Much Trouble. For Shampuashuh People Were Shrewd, And Did Not 
 Believe, Any More Than King lear, That Anything could Come Of   Nothing. 
 That He Was _Not_ Moved by General Benevolence, Poured out Upon The 
 School Of   The   White Church, Was Generally Agreed. "What'S We To Him?" 
 Asked pertinently One Of   The   Old Ladies; And Vain Efforts Were Made To 
 Ascertain Mr. Dillwyn'S Denomination. "For All I Kin Make Out, He 
 Hain'T Got None," Was The   Declaration Of   Another Matron. "I Don'T 
 B'Lieve He'S No Better Than He Should Be." Which Was Ungrateful, And 
 Hardly Justified miss Charity'S Prognostications Of   Enduring fame; By 
 Which, Of   Course, She Meant Good Fame. Few Had Seen Mr. Dillwyn 
 Undisguised, So That They Could Give A Report Of   Him; But Mrs. Marx 
 Assured them He Was "A Real Personable Man; Nice And Plain, And Takin' 
 No Airs. She Liked him First-Rate." 
   
   
   
 "Who'S He After? Not One O' Your Gals?" 
   
   
   
 "Mercy, No! He, Indeed! He'S One Of   The   High-Flyers; He Won'T Come To 
 Shampuashuh To Look For A Wife. 'Seems To Me He'S Made O' Money; And 
 He'S Been Everywhere; He'S Fished for Crocodiles In the   Nile, And Eaten 
 His Luncheon At The   Top Of   The   Pyramids Of   Egypt, And Sailed to The 
 North Pole To Be Sure Of   Cool Lemonade In summer. _He_ Won'T Marry In 
 Shampuashuh." 
   
   
   
 "What Brings Him Here, Then?" 
   
   
   
 "The Spirit Of   Restlessness, I Should Say. Those People That Have Been 
 Everywhere, You May Notice, Can'T Stay Nowhere. I Always Knew There Was 
 Fools In the   World, But I _Didn'T_ Know There Was So Many Of   'Em As 
 There Be. He Ain'T No Fool Neither, Some Ways; And That Makes Him A 
 Bigger Fool In the   End; Only I Don'T Know Why The   Fools Should Have All 
 The Money." 
   
   
   
 And So, After A Little, The   Talk About This Theme Died out, And Things 
 Settled down, Not Without Some Of   The   Reaction Mr. Dillwyn Had 
 Predicted; But They Settled down, And All Was As Before In shampuashuh. 
 Mr. Dillwyn Did Not Come Again To Make A Visit, Or Mrs. Marx'S Aroused 
 Vigilance Would Have Found Some Ground For Suspicion. There Did Come 
 Numerous Presents Of   Game And Fruit From Him, But They Were Sent To 
 Mrs. Barclay, And Could Not Be Objected against, Although They Came In 
 Such Quantities That The   Whole Household Had To Combine To Dispose Of 
 Them. What Would Philip Do Next?--Mrs. Barclay Queried. As He Had Said, 
 He Could Not Go On With Repeated visits To The   House. Madge And Lois 
 Would Not Hear Of   Being tempted to New York, Paint The   Picture As 
 Bright As She Would. Things Were Not Ripe For Any Decided step On Mr. 
 Dillwyn'S Part, And How Should They Become So? Mrs. Barclay Could Not 
 See The   Way. She Did For Philip What She Could By Writing to Him, 
 Whether For His Good Or His Harm She Could Not Decide. She Feared the 
 Latter. She Told Him, However, Of   The   Sweet, Quiet Life She Was 
 Leading; Of   The   Reading she Was Doing with The   Two Girls, And The   Whole 
 Family; Of   The   Progress Lois And Madge Were Making in singing and 
 Drawing and In various Branches Of   Study; Of   The   Walks In the   Fresh 
 Sea-Breezes, And The   Cosy Evenings With Wood Fires And The   Lamp; And 
 She Told Him How They Enjoyed his Game, And What A Comfort The   Oranges 
 Were To Mrs. Armadale. 
   
   
   
 This Lasted through January, And Then There Came A Change. Mrs. 
 
 
 
 Chapter 38 (Breaking up) Pg 108 
 Armadale Was Ill. There Was No More Question Of   Visits, Or Of   Studies; 
 And All Sorts Of   Enjoyments And Occupations Gave Place To The   One 
 Absorbing interest Of   Watching and Waiting upon The   Sick One. And Then, 
 That Ceased too. Mrs. Armadale Had Caught Cold, She Had Not Strength To 
 Throw Off Disease; It Took Violent Form, And In a Few Days Ran Its 
 Course. Very Suddenly The   Little Family Found Itself Without Its Head. 
   
   
   
 There Was Nothing to Grieve For, But Their Own Loss. The   Long, Weary 
 Earth-Journey Was Done, And The   Traveller Had Taken Up Her Abode Where 
 There Is 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
    "The Rest Begun, 
    That Christ Hath For His People Won." 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
 She Had Gone Triumphantly. "Through God We Shall Do Valiantly"--Being 
 Her Last--Uttered words. Her Children Took Them As A Legacy, And Felt 
 Rich. But They Looked at Her Empty Chair, And Counted themselves Poorer 
 Than Ever Before. Mrs. Barclay Saw That The   Mourning was Deep. Yet, 
 With The   Reserved strength Of   New England Natures, It Made No Noise, 
 And Scarce Any Show. 
   
   
   
 Mrs. Barclay Lived much Alone Those First Days. She Would Gladly Have 
 Talked to Somebody; She Wanted to Know About The   Affairs Of   The   Little 
 Family, But Saw No One To Talk To. Until, Two Or Three Days After The 
 Funeral, Coming home One Afternoon From A Walk In the   Cold, She Found 
 Her Fire Had Died out; And She Went Into The   Next Room To Warm Herself. 
 There She Saw None Of   The   Usual Inmates. Mrs. Armadale'S Chair Stood On 
 One Side The   Fire, Unoccupied, And On The   Other Side Stood Uncle Tim 
 Hotchkiss. 
   
   
   
 "How Do You Do, Mr. Hotchkiss? May I Come And Warm Myself? I Have Been 
 Out, And I Am Half-Frozen." 
   
   
   
 "I Guess You'Re Welcome To Most Anything in this House, Ma'Am,--And 
 Fire We Wouldn'T Grudge To Anybody. Sit Down, Ma'Am;" And He Set A 
 Chair For Her. "It'S Pretty Tight Weather." 
   
   
   
 "We Had Nothing like This Last Winter," Said Mrs. Barclay, Shivering. 
   
   
   
 "We Expect To Hev One Or Two Snaps In the   Course Of   The   Winter," Said 
 Mr. Hotchkiss. "Shampuashuh Ain'T What You Call A Cold Place; But We 
 Expect To See Them Two Snaps. It Comes Seasonable This Time. I'D 
 Rayther Hev It Now Than In march. My Sister--That'S Gone,--She Could 
 Always Tell You How The   Weather Was Goin' To Be. I'Ve Never Seen No One 
 Like Her For That." 
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 38 (Breaking up) Pg 109 
   
 "Nor For Some Other Things," Said Mrs. Barclay. "It Is A Sad Change To 
 Feel Her Place Empty." 
   
   
   
 "Ay," Said Uncle Tim, With A Glance At The   Unused chair,--"It'S The 
 Difference Between Full And Empty. 'I Went Out Full, And The   Lord Has 
 Brought Me Back Empty', Ruth'S Mother-In-Law Said." 
   
   
   
 "Who Is Ruth?" Mrs. Barclay Asked, A Little Bewildered, And Willing to 
 Change The   Subject; For She Noticed a Suppressed quiver In the   Hard 
 Features. "Do I Know Her?" 
   
   
   
 "I Mean Ruth The   Moabitess. Of   Course You Know Her. She Was A Poor 
 Heathen Thing, But She Got All Right At Last. It Was Her Mother-In-Law 
 That Was Bitter. Well--Troubles Hadn'T Ought To Make Us Bitter. I Guess 
 There'S Allays Somethin' Wrong When They Do." 
   
   
   
 "Hard To Help It, Sometimes," Said Mrs. Barclay. 
   
   
   
 "She Wouldn'T Ha' Let You Say That," Said The   Old Man, Indicating 
 Sufficiently By His Accent Of   Whom He Was Speaking. "There Warn'T No 
 Bitterness In her; And She Had Seen Trouble Enough! She'S Out O' It 
 Now." 
   
   
   
 "What Will The   Girls Do? Stay On And Keep The   House Here Just As They 
 Have Done?" 
   
   
   
 "Well, I Don' Know," Said Mr. Hotchkiss, Evidently Glad To Welcome A 
 Business Question, And Now Taking a Chair Himself. "Mrs. Marx And Me, 
 We'Ve Ben Arguin' That Question Out, And It Ain'T Decided. There'S One 
 Big House Here, And There'S Another Where Mrs. Marx Lives; And There'S 
 One Little Family, And Here'S Another Little Family. It'S Expensive To 
 Scatter Over So Much Ground. They Had Ought To Come To Mrs. Marx, Or 
 She Had Ought To Move In here, And Then The   Other House Could Be 
 Rented. That'S How The   Thing looks To Me. It'S Expensive For Five 
 People To Take Two Big Houses To Live In. I Know, The   Girls Have Got 
 You Now; But They Might Not Keep You Allays; And We Must Look At Things 
 As They Be." 
   
   
   
 "I Must Leave Them In the   Spring," Said Mrs. Barclay Hastily. 
   
   
   
 "In The   Spring, Must Ye!" 
   
   
   
 "Must," She Repeated. "I Would Like To Stay Here The   Rest Of   My Life; 
 But Circumstances Are Imperative. I Must Go In the   Spring." 
   
   
   
 "Then I Think That Settles It," Said Mr. Hotchkiss. "I'M Glad To Know 
 It. That Is! Of   Course I'M Sorry Ye'Re Goin'; The   Girls Be Very Fond Of 
 You." 
 
 
 
 Chapter 38 (Breaking up) Pg 110 
   
 "And I Of   Them," Said Mrs. Barclay; "But I Must Go." 
   
   
   
 After That, She Waited for The   Chance Of   A Talk With Lois. She Waited 
 Not Long. The   Household Had Hardly Settled down Into Regular Ways Again 
 After The   Disturbance Of   Sickness And Death, When Lois Came One Evening 
 At Twilight Into Mrs. Barclay'S Room. She Sat Down, At First Was 
 Silent, And Then Burst Into Tears. Mrs. Barclay Let Her Alone, Knowing 
 That For Her Just Now The   Tears Were Good. And The   Woman Who Had Seen 
 So Much Heavier Life-Storms, Looked on Almost With A Feeling of   Envy At 
 The Weeping which Gave So Simple And Frank Expression To Grief. Until 
 This Feeling was Overcome By Another, And She Begged lois To Weep No 
 More. 
   
   
   
 "I Do Not Mean It--I Did Not Mean It," Said Lois, Drying her Eyes. "It 
 Is Ungrateful Of   Me; For We Have So Much To Be Thankful For. I Am So 
 Glad For Grandmother!"--Yet Somehow The   Tears Went On Falling. 
   
   
   
 "Glad?"--Repeated mrs. Barclay Doubtfully. "You Mean, Because She Is 
 Out Of   Her Suffering." 
   
   
   
 "She Did Not Suffer Much. It Is Not That. I Am So Glad To Think She Has 
 Got Home!" 
   
   
   
 "I Suppose," Said Mrs. Barclay In a Constrained voice, "To Such A 
 Person As Your Grandmother, Death Has No Fear. Yet Life Seems To Me 
 More Desirable." 
   
   
   
 "She Has Entered into Life!" Said Lois. "She Is Where She Wanted to Be, 
 And With What She Loved best. And I Am Very, Very Glad! Even Though I 
 Do Cry." 
   
   
   
 "How Can You Speak With Such Certain'Ty, Lois? I Know, In such A Case 
 As That Of   Your Grandmother, There Could Be No Fear; And Yet I Do Not 
 See How You Can Speak As If You Knew Where She Is, And With Whom." 
   
   
   
 "Only Because The   Bible Tells Us," Said Lois, Smiling even Through Wet 
 Eyes. "Not The   _Place;_ It Does Not Tell Us The   Place; But With Christ. 
 That They Are; And That Is All We Want To Know. 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
    'Beyond The   Sighing and The   Weeping.' 
   
   
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 38 (Breaking up) Pg 110 
   
 --It Makes Me Gladder Than Ever I Can Tell You, To Think Of   It." 
   
   
   
 "Then What Are Those Tears For, My Dear?" 
   
   
   
 "It'S The   Turning over A Leaf," Said Lois Sadly, "And That Is Always 
 Sorrowful. And I Have Lost--Uncle Tim Says," She Broke Off Suddenly, 
 "He Says,--Can It Be?--He Says You Say You Must Go From Us In the 
 Spring?" 
   
   
   
 "That Is Turning over Another Leaf," Said Mrs. Barclay. 
   
   
   
 "But Is It True?" 
   
   
   
 "Absolutely True. Circumstances Make It Imperative. It Is Not My Wish. 
 I Would Like To Stay Here With You All My Life." 
   
   
   
 "I Wish You Could. I Half Hoped you Would," Said Lois Wistfully. 
   
   
   
 "But I Cannot, My Dear. I Cannot." 
   
   
   
 "Then That Is Another Thing over," Said Lois. "What A Good Time It Has 
 Been, This Year And A Half You Have Been With Us! How Much Worth To 
 Madge And Me! But Won'T You Come Back Again?" 
   
   
   
 "I Fear Not. You Will Not Miss Me So Much; You Will All Keep House 
 Together, Mr. Hotchkiss Tells Me." 
   
   
   
 "_I_ Shall Not Be Here," Said Lois. 
   
   
   
 "Where Will You Be?" Mrs. Barclay Started. 
   
   
   
 "I Don'T Know; But It Will Be Best For Me To Do Something to Help 
 Along. I Think I Shall Take A School Somewhere. I Think I Can Get One." 
   
   
   
 "A _School_, My Dear? Why Should You Do Such A Thing?" 
   
   
   
 "To Help Along," Said Lois. "You Know, We Have Not Much To Live On Here 
 At Home. I Should Make One Less Here, And I Should Be Earning a Little 
 Besides." 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 38 (Breaking up) Pg 111 
 "Very Little, Lois!" 
   
   
   
 "Very Little Will Do." 
   
   
   
 "But You Do A Great Deal Now Towards The   Family Support. What Will 
 Become Of   Your Garden?" 
   
   
   
 "Uncle Tim Can Take Care Of   That. Besides, Mrs. Barclay, Even If I 
 Could Stay At Home, I Think I Ought Not. I Ought To Be Doing 
 Something--Be Of   Some Use In the   World. I Am Not Needed here, Now Dear 
 Grandmother Is Gone; And There Must Be Some Other Place Where I Am 
 Needed." 
   
   
   
 "My Dear, Somebody Will Want You To Keep House For Him, Some Of   These 
 Days." 
   
   
   
 Lois Shook Her Head. "I Do Not Think Of   It," She Said. "I Do Not Think 
 It Is Very Likely; That Is, Anybody _I_ Should Want. But If It Were 
 True," She Added, Looking up And Smiling, "That Has Nothing to Do With 
 Present Duty." 
   
   
   
 "My Dear, I Cannot Bear To Think Of   Your Going into Such Drudgery!" 
   
   
   
 "Drudgery?" Said Lois. "I Do Not Know,--Perhaps I Should Not Find It 
 So. But I May As Well Do It As Somebody Else." 
   
   
   
 "You Are Fit For Something better." 
   
   
   
 "There Is Nothing better, And There Is Nothing happier," Said Lois, 
 Rising, "Than To Do What God Gives Us To Do. I Should Not Be Unhappy, 
 Mrs. Barclay. It Wouldn'T Be Just Like These Days We Have Passed 
 Together, I Suppose;--These Days Have Been A Garden Of   Flowers." 
   
   
   
 And What Have They All Amounted to? Thought Mrs. Barclay When She Was 
 Left Alone. Have I Done Any Good--Or Only Harm--By Acceding to That Mad 
 Proposition Of   Philip'S? Some Good, Surely; These Two Girls Have Grown 
 And Changed, Mentally, At A Great Rate Of   Progress; They Are Educated, 
 Cultivated, Informed, Refined, To A Degree That I Would Never Have 
 Thought A Year And A Half Could Do. Even So! _Have_ I Done Them Good? 
 They Are Lifted quite Out Of   The   Level Of   Their Surroundings; And To Be 
 Lifted so, Means Sometimes A Barren Living alone. Yet I Will Not Think 
 That; It Is Better To Rise In the   Scale Of   Being, If Ever One Can, 
 Whatever Comes Of   It; What One Is In oneself Is Of   More Importance Than 
 One'S Relations To The   World Around. But Philip?--I Have Helped him 
 Nourish This Fancy--And It Is Not A Fancy Now--It Is The   Man'S Whole 
 Life. Heigh Ho! I Begin To Think He Was Right, And That It Is Very 
 Difficult To Know What Is Doing good And What Isn'T. I Must Write To 
 Philip-- 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 38 (Breaking up) Pg 112 
 So She Did, At Once. She Told Him Of   The   Contemplated changes In the 
 Family Arrangements; Of   Lois'S Plan For Teaching a District School; And 
 Declared that She Herself Must Now Leave Shampuashuh. She Had Done What 
 She Came For, Whether For Good Or For Ill. It Was Done; And She Could 
 No Longer Continue Living there On Mr. Dillwyn'S Bounty. _Now_ It Would 
 Be Mere Bounty, If She Stayed where She Was; Until Now She Might Say 
 She Had Been Doing his Work. His Work Was Done Now, Her Part Of   It; The 
 Rest He Must Finish For Himself. Mrs. Barclay Would Leave Shampuashuh 
 In April. 
   
   
   
 This Letter Would Bring matters To A Point, She Thought, If Anything 
 Could; She Much Expected to See Mr. Dillwyn Himself Appear Again Before 
 March Was Over. He Did Not Come, However; He Wrote A Short Answer To 
 Mrs. Barclay, Saying that He Was Sorry For Her Resolve, And Would 
 Combat It If He Could; But Felt That He Had Not The   Power. She Must 
 Satisfy Her Fastidious Notions Of   Independence, And He Could Only Thank 
 Her To The   Last Day Of   His Life For What She Had Already Done For Him; 
 Service Which Thanks Could Never Repay. He Sent This Letter, But Said 
 Nothing of   Coming; And He Did Not Come. 
   
   
   
 Later, Mrs. Barclay Wrote Again. The   Household Changes Were Just About 
 To Be Made; She Herself Had But A Week Or Two More In shampuashuh; And 
 Lois, Against All Expectation, Had Found Opportunity Immediately To Try 
 Her Vocation For Teaching. The   Lady Placed over A School In a Remote 
 Little Village Had Suddenly Died; And The   Trustees Of   The   School Had 
 Considered favourably Lois'S Application. She Was Going in a Day Or Two 
 To Undertake The   Charge Of   A Score Or Two Of   Boys And Girls, Of   All 
 Ages, In a Wild And Rough Part Of   The   Country; Where Even The 
 Accommodations For Her Own Personal Comfort, Mrs. Barclay Feared, Would 
 Be Of   The   Plainest. 
   
   
   
 To This Letter Also She Received an Answer, Though After A Little 
 Interval. Mr. Dillwyn Wrote, He Regretted lois'S Determination; 
 Regretted that She Thought It Necessary; But Appreciated the 
 Straightforward, Unflinching sense Of   Duty Which Never Consulted with 
 Ease Or Selfishness. He Himself Was Going, He Added, On Business, For A 
 Time, To The   North; That Is, Not Massachusetts, But Canada. He Would 
 Therefore Not See Mrs. Barclay Until After A Considerable Interval. 
   
   
   
 Mrs. Barclay Did Not Know What To Make Of   This Letter. Had Philip Given 
 Up His Fancy? It Was Not Like Him. Men Are Fickle, It Is True; But 
 Fickle In his Friendships She Had Never Known Mr. Dillwyn To Be. Yet 
 This Letter Said Nothing of   Love, Or Hope, Or Fear; It Was Cool, 
 Friendly, Business-Like. Mrs. Barclay Nevertheless Did Not Know How To 
 Believe In the   Business. _He_ Have Business! What Business? She Had 
 Always Known Him As An Easy, Graceful, Pleasure-Taker; Finding his 
 Pleasure In no Evil Ways, Indeed; Kept From That By Early Associations, 
 Or By His Own Refined tastes And Sense Of   Honour; But Never Living to 
 Anything but Pleasure. His Property Was Ample And Unencumbered; Even 
 The Care Of   That Was Not Difficult, And Did Not Require Much Of   His 
 Time. And Now, Just When He Ought To Put In his Claim For Lois, If He 
 Was Ever Going to Make It; Just When She Was Set Loose From Her Old 
 Ties And Marking out A New And Hard Way Of   Life For Herself, He Ought 
 To Come; And He Was Going on Business To Canada! Mrs. Barclay Was 
 Excessively Disgusted and Disappointed. She Had Not, Indeed, All Along 
 Seen How Philip'S Wooing could Issue Successfully, If It Ever Came To 
 The Point Of   Wooing; The   Elements Were Too Discordant, And Principles 
 Too Obstinate; And Yet She Had Worked on In hope, Vague And Doubtful, 
 But Still Hope, Thinking highly Herself Of   Mr. Dillwyn'S Pretensions 
 And Powers Of   Persuasion, And Knowing that In human Nature At Large All 
 Principle And All Discordance Are Apt To Come To A Signal Defeat When 
 Love Takes The   Field. But Now There Seemed to Be No Question Of   Wooing; 
 Love Was Not On Hand, Where His Power Was Wanted; The   Friends Were All 
 
 
 
 Chapter 38 (Breaking up) Pg 113 
 Scattered one From Another--Lois Going to The   Drudgery Of   Teaching 
 Rough Boys And Girls, She Herself To The   Seclusion Of   Some Quiet 
 Seaside Retreat, And Mr. Dillwyn--To Hunt Bears?--In Canada. 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 39 (Luxury) Pg 114 
 So They Were All Scattered. But The   Moving and Communicating wires Of 
 Human Society Seem As Often As Any Way To Run Underground; Quite Out Of 
 Sight, At Least; Then Specially Strong, When To An Outsider They Appear 
 To Be Broken And Parted for Ever. 
   
   
   
 Into The   History Of   The   Summer It Is Impossible To Go Minutely. What 
 Mr. Dillwyn Did In canada, And How Lois Fought With Ignorance And 
 Rudeness And Prejudice In her New Situation, Mrs. Barclay Learned but 
 Very Imperfectly From The   Letters She Received; So Imperfectly, That 
 She Felt She Knew Nothing. Mr. Dillwyn Never Mentioned miss Lothrop. 
 Could It Be That He Had Prematurely Brought Things To A Decision, And 
 So Got Them Decided wrong? But In that Case Mrs. Barclay Felt Sure Some 
 Sign Would Have Escaped lois; And She Gave None. 
   
   
   
 The Summer Passed, And Two-Thirds Of   The   Autumn. 
   
   
   
 One Evening in the   End Of   October, Mrs. Wishart Was Sitting alone In 
 Her Back Drawing-Room. She Was Suffering from A Cold, And Coddling 
 Herself Over The   Fire. Her Major-Domo Brought Her Mr. Dillwyn'S Name 
 And Request For Admission, Which Was Joyfully Granted. Mrs. Wishart Was 
 Denied to Ordinary Visitors; And Philip'S Arrival Was Like A 
 Benediction. 
   
   
   
 "Where Have You Been All Summer?" She Asked him, When They Had Talked 
 Awhile Of   Some Things Nearer Home. 
   
   
   
 "In The   Backwoods Of   Canada." 
   
   
   
 "The Backwoods Of   Canada!" 
   
   
   
 "I Assure You It Is A Very Enjoyable Region." 
 
 
 
 Chapter 39 (Luxury) Pg 115 
   
   
 "What _Could_ You Find To Do There?" 
   
   
   
 "More Than Enough. I Spent My Time Between Hunting--Fishing--And 
 Studying." 
   
   
   
 "Studying what, Pray? Not Backwoods Farming, I Suppose?" 
   
   
   
 "Well, No, Not Exactly. Backwoods Farming is Not Precisely In my Line." 
   
   
   
 "What Is In your Line That You Could Study There?" 
   
   
   
 "It Is Not A Bad Place To Study Anything;--If You Except, Perhaps, Art 
 And Antiquity." 
   
   
   
 "I Did Not Know You Studied anything _But_ Art." 
   
   
   
 "It Is Hardly A Sufficient Object To Fill A Man'S Life Worthily; Do You 
 Think So?" 
   
   
   
 "What Would Fill It Worthily?" The   Lady Asked, With A Kind Of   Dreary 
 Abstractedness. And If Philip Had Surprised her A Moment Before, He Was 
 Surprised in his Turn. As He Did Not Answer Immediately, Mrs. Wishart 
 Went On. 
   
   
   
 "A Man'S Life, Or A Woman'S Life? What Would Fill It Worthily? Do You 
 Know? Sometimes It Seems To Me That We Are All Living for Nothing." 
   
   
   
 "I Am Ready To Confess That Has Been The   Case With Me,--To My Shame Be 
 It Said." 
   
   
   
 "I Mean, That There Is Nothing really Worth Living for." 
   
   
   
 "_That_ Cannot Be True, However." 
   
   
   
 "Well, I Suppose I Say So At The   Times When I Am Unable To Enjoy 
 Anything in my Life. And Yet, If You Stop To Think, What _Does_ 
 Anybody'S Life Amount To? Nobody'S Missed, After He Is Gone; Or Only 
 For A Minute; And For Himself--There Is Not A Year Of   _My_ Life That I 
 Can Remember, That I Would Be Willing to Live Over Again." 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 39 (Luxury) Pg 116 
 "Apparently, Then, To Enjoy Is Not The   Chief End Of   Existence. I Mean, 
 Of This Existence." 
   
   
   
 "What Do We Know Of   Any Other? And If We Do Not Enjoy Ourselves, Pray 
 What In the   World Should We Live For?" 
   
   
   
 "I Have Seen People That I Thought Enjoyed themselves," Philip Said 
 Slowly. 
   
   
   
 "Have You? Who Were They? I Do Not Know Them." 
   
   
   
 "You Know Some Of   Them. Do You Recollect A Friend Of   Mine, For Whom You 
 Negotiated lodgings At A Far-Off Country Village?" 
   
   
   
 "Yes, I Remember. They Took Her, Didn'T They?" 
   
   
   
 "They Took Her. And I Had The   Pleasure Once Or Twice Of   Visiting her 
 There." 
   
   
   
 "Did She Like It?" 
   
   
   
 "Very Much. She Could Not Help Liking it. And I Thought Those People 
 Seemed to Enjoy Life. Not Relatively, But Positively." 
   
   
   
 "The Lothrops!" Cried mrs. Wishart. "I Can Not Conceive It. Why, They 
 Are Very Poor." 
   
   
   
 "That Made No Hindrance, In their Case." 
   
   
   
 "Poor People, I Am Afraid They Have Not Been Enjoying themselves This 
 Year." 
   
   
   
 "I Heard Of   Mrs. Armadale'S Death." 
   
   
   
 "Yes. O, She Was Old; She Could Not Be Expected to Live Long. But They 
 Are All Broken Up." 
   
   
   
 "How Am I To Understand That?" 
   
   
   
 "Well, You Know They Have Very Little To Live Upon. I Suppose It Was 
 For That Reason Lois Went Off To A Distance From Home To Teach A 
 
 
 
 Chapter 39 (Luxury) Pg 117 
 District School. You Know,--Or _Do_ You Know?--What Country Schools 
 Are, In some Places; This Was One Of   The   Places. Pretty Rough; And Hard 
 Living. And Then A Railroad Was Opened in the   Neighbourhood--The Place 
 Became Sickly--A Fever Broke Out Among Lois'S Scholars And The   Families 
 They Came From; And Lois Spent Her Vacation In nursing. Then Got Sick 
 Herself With The   Fever, And Is Only Just Now Getting well." 
   
   
   
 "I Heard Something of   This Before From Mrs. Barclay." 
   
   
   
 "Then Madge Went To Take Care Of   Lois, And They Were Both There. That 
 Is Weeks And Weeks Ago,--Months, I Should Think." 
   
   
   
 "But The   Sick One Is Well Again?" 
   
   
   
 "She Is Better. But One Does Not Get Up From Those Fevers So Soon. 
 One'S Strength Is Gone. I Have Sent For Them To Come And Make Me A 
 Visit And Recruit." 
   
   
   
 "They Are Coming, I Hope?" 
   
   
   
 "I Expect Them Here To-Morrow." 
   
   
   
 Mr. Dillwyn Had Nearly Been Betrayed into An Exclamation. He Remembered 
 Himself In time, And Replied with Proper Self-Possession That He Was 
 Very Glad To Hear It. 
   
   
   
 "Yes, I Told Them To Come Here And Rest. They Must Want It, Poor Girls, 
 Both Of   Them." 
   
   
   
 "Then They Are Coming to-Morrow?" 
   
   
   
 "Yes." 
   
   
   
 "By What Train?" 
   
   
   
 "I Believe, It Is The   New Haven Train That Gets In about Five O'Clock. 
 Or Six. I Do Not Know Exactly." 
   
   
   
 "I Know. Now, Mrs. Wishart, You Are Not Well Yourself, And Must Not Go 
 Out. I Will Meet The   Train And Bring them Safe To You." 
   
   
   
 "You? O, That'S Delightful. I Have Been Puzzling my Brain To Know How I 
 Should Manage; For I Am Not Fit To Go Out Yet, And Servants Are So 
 
 
 
 Chapter 39 (Luxury) Pg 118 
 Unsatisfactory. Will You Really? That'S Good Of   You!" 
   
   
   
 "Not At All. It Is The   Least I Can Do. The   Family Received me Most 
 Kindly On More Than One Occasion; And I Would Gladly Do Them A Greater 
 Service Than This." 
   
   
   
 At Two O'Clock Next Day The   Waiting-Room Of   The   New Haven Station Held, 
 Among Others, Two Very Handsome Young Girls; Who Kept Close Together, 
 Waiting for Their Summons To The   Train. One Of   Them Was Very Pale And 
 Thin And Feeble-Looking, And Indeed sat So That She Leaned part Of   Her 
 Weight Upon Her Sister. Madge Was Pale Too, And Looked somewhat 
 Anxious. Both Pairs Of   Eyes Watched languidly The   Moving, Various 
 Groups Of   Travellers Clustered about In the   Room. 
   
   
   
 "Madge, It'S Like A Dream!" Murmured the   One Girl To The   Other. 
   
   
   
 "What? If You Mean This Crowd, _My_ Dreams Have More Order In them." 
   
   
   
 "I Mean, Being away From Esterbrooke, And Off A Sick-Bed, And Moving, 
 And Especially Going to--Where We Are Going. It'S A Dream!" 
   
   
   
 "Why?" 
   
   
   
 "Too Good To Be True. I Had Thought, Do You Know, I Never Should Make A 
 Visit There Again." 
   
   
   
 "Why Not, Lois?" 
   
   
   
 "I Thought It Would Be Best Not. But Now The   Way Seems Clear, And I Can 
 Take The   Fun Of   It. It Is Clearly Right To Go." 
   
   
   
 "Of Course! It Is Always Right To Go Wherever You Are Asked." 
   
   
   
 "O No, Madge!" 
   
   
   
 "Well,--Wherever The   Invitation Is Honest, I Mean." 
   
   
   
 "O, That Isn'T Enough." 
   
   
   
 "What Else? Supposing you Have The   Means To Go. I Am Not Sure That We 
 Have That Condition In the   Present Instance. But If You Have, What Else 
 Is To Be Waited for?" 
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 39 (Luxury) Pg 119 
   
   
 "Duty--" Lois Whispered. 
   
   
   
 "O, Bother Duty! Here Have You Gone And Almost Killed yourself For 
 Duty." 
   
   
   
 "Well,--Supposing one Does Kill Oneself?--One Must Do What Is Duty." 
   
   
   
 "That Isn'T Duty." 
   
   
   
 "O, It May Be." 
   
   
   
 "Not To Kill Yourself. You Have Almost Killed yourself, Lois." 
   
   
   
 "I Couldn'T Help It." 
   
   
   
 "Yes, You Could. You Make Duty A Kind Of   Iron Thing." 
   
   
   
 "Not Iron," Said Lois; She Spoke Slowly And Faintly, But Now She 
 Smiled. "It Is Golden!" 
   
   
   
 "That Don'T Help. Chains Of   Gold May Be As Hard To Break As Chains Of 
 Iron." 
   
   
   
 "Who Wants Them Broken?" Said Lois, In the   Same Slow, Contented way. 
 "Duty? Why Madge, It'S The   King'S Orders!" 
   
   
   
 "Do You Mean That You Were Ordered to Go To That Place, And Then To 
 Nurse Those Children Through The   Fever?" 
   
   
   
 "Yes, I Think So." 
   
   
   
 "I Should Be Terribly Afraid Of   Duty, If I Thought It Came In such 
 Shapes. There'S The   Train!--Now If You Can Get Downstairs--" 
   
   
   
 That Was Accomplished, Though With Tottering steps, And Lois Was Safely 
 Seated in one Of   The   Cars, And Her Head Pillowed upon The   Back Of   The 
 Seat. There Was No More Talking then For Some Time. Only When Haarlem 
 Bridge Was Past And New York Close At Hand, Lois Spoke. 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 39 (Luxury) Pg 120 
 "Madge, Suppose Mrs. Wishart Should Not Be Here To Meet Us? You Must 
 Think What You Would Do." 
   
   
   
 "Why, The   Train Don'T Go Any Further, Does It?" 
   
   
   
 "No!--But It Goes Back. I Mean, It Will Not Stand Still For You. It 
 Moves Away Out Of   The   Station-House As Soon As It Is Empty." 
   
   
   
 "There Will Be Carriages Waiting, I Suppose. But I Am Sure I Hope She 
 Will Meet Us. I Wrote In plenty Of   Time. Don'T Worry, Dear! We'Ll 
 Manage." 
   
   
   
 "I Am Not Worrying," Said Lois. "I Am A Great Deal Too Happy To Worry." 
   
   
   
 However, That Was Not Madge'S Case, And She Felt Very Fidgety. With 
 Lois So Feeble, And In a Place So Unknown To Her, And With Baggage 
 Checks To Dispose Of, And So Little Time To Do Anything, And No Doubt A 
 Crowd Of   Doubtful Characters Lounging about, As She Had Always Heard 
 They Did In new York; Madge Did Wish Very Anxiously For A Pilot And A 
 Protector. As The   Train Slowly Moved into The   Grand Central, She 
 Eagerly Looked to See Some Friend Appear. But None Appeared. 
   
   
   
 "We Must Go Out, Madge," Said Lois. "Maybe We Shall Find Mrs. 
 Wishart--I Dare Say We Shall--She Could Not Come Into The   Cars--" 
   
   
   
 The Two Made Their Way Accordingly, Slowly, At The   End Of   The 
 Procession Filing out Of   The   Car, Till Madge Got Out Upon The   Platform. 
 There She Uttered an Exclamation Of   Joy. 
   
   
   
 "O Lois!--There'S Mr. Dillwyn?" 
   
   
   
 "But We Are Looking for Mrs. Wishart," Said Lois. 
   
   
   
 The Next Thing she Knew, However, Somebody Was Carefully Helping her 
 Down To The   Landing; And Then, Her Hand Was On A Stronger Arm Than That 
 Of Mrs. Wishart, And She Was Slowly Following the   Stream Of   People To 
 The Front Of   The   Station-House. Lois Was Too Exhausted by This Time To 
 Ask Any Questions; Suffered herself To Be Put In a Carriage Passively, 
 Where Madge Took Her Place Also, While Mr. Dillwyn Went To Give The 
 Checks Of   Their Baggage In charge To An Expressman. Lois Then Broke Out 
 Again With, 
   
   
   
 "O Madge, It'S Like A Dream!" 
   
   
   
 "Isn'T It?" Said Madge. "I Have Been In a Regular Fidget For Two Hours 
 Past, For Fear Mrs. Wishart Would Not Be Here." 
 
 
 
 Chapter 39 (Luxury) Pg 121 
   
   
 "I Didn'T _Fidget_," Said Lois, "But I Did Not Know How I Was Going to 
 Get From The   Cars To The   Carriage. I Feel In a Kind Of   Exhausted 
 Elysium!" 
   
   
   
 "It'S Convenient To Have A Man Belonging to One," Said Madge. 
   
   
   
 "Hush, Pray!" Said Lois, Closing her Eyes. And She Hardly Opened them 
 Again Until The   Carriage Arrived at Mrs. Wishart'S, Which Was Something 
 Of A Drive. Madge And Mr. Dillwyn Kept Up A Lively Conversation, About 
 The Journey And Lois'S Condition, And Her Summer; And How He Happened 
 To Be At The   Grand Central. He Went To Meet Some Friends, He Said 
 Coolly, Whom He Expected to See By That Train. 
   
   
   
 "Then We Must Have Been In your Way," Exclaimed madge Regretfully. 
   
   
   
 "Not At All," He Said. 
   
   
   
 "But We Hindered you From Taking care Of   Your Friends?" 
   
   
   
 "No," He Said Indifferently; "By No Means. They Are Taken Care Of." 
   
   
   
 And Both Madge And Lois Were Too Simple To Know What He Meant. 
   
   
   
 At Mrs. Wishart'S, Lois Was Again Helped carefully Out And Carefully 
 In, And Half Carried up-Stairs To Her Own Room, Whither It Was Decided 
 She Had Better Go At Once. And There, After Being furnished with A Bowl 
 Of Soup, She Was Left, While The   Others Went Down To Tea. So Madge 
 Found Her An Hour Afterwards, Sunk In the   Depths Of   A Great, Soft 
 Easy-Chair, Gazing at The   Fanciful Flames Of   A Kennel Coal Fire. 
   
   
   
 "O Madge, It'S A Dream!" Lois Said Again Languidly, Though With Plenty 
 Of Expression. "I Can'T Believe In the   Change From Esterbrooke Here." 
   
   
   
 "It'S A Change From Shampuashuh," Madge Returned. "Lois, I Didn'T Know 
 Things Could Be So Pretty. And We Have Had The   Most Delightful Tea, And 
 Something--Cakes--Mrs. Wishart Calls _Wigs_, The   Best Things You Ever 
 Saw In your Life; But Mr. Dillwyn Wouldn'T Let Us Send Some Up To You." 
   
   
   
 "Mr. Dillwyn!"-- 
   
   
   
 "Yes, He Said They Were Not Good For You. He Has Been Just As Pleasant 
 As He Could Be. I Never Saw Anybody So Pleasant. I Like Mr. Dillwyn 
 _Very_ Much." 
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 39 (Luxury) Pg 122 
   
 "Don'T!" Said Lois Languidly. 
   
   
   
 "Why?" 
   
   
   
 "You Had Better Not." 
   
   
   
 "But Why Not? You Are Ungrateful, It Seems To Me, If You Don'T Like 
 Him." 
   
   
   
 "I Like Him," Said Lois Slowly; "But He Belongs To A Different World 
 From Ours. The   Worlds Can'T Come Together; So It Is Best Not To Like 
 Him Too Much." 
   
   
   
 "How Do You Mean, A Different World?" 
   
   
   
 "O, He'S Different, Madge! All His Thoughts And Ways And Associations 
 Are Unlike Ours--A Great Way Off From Ours; And Must Be. It Is Best As 
 I Said. I Guess It Is Best Not To Like Anybody Too Much." 
   
   
   
 With Which Oracular And Superhumanly Wise Utterance Lois Closed her 
 Eyes Softly Again. Madge, Provoked, Was About To Carry On The 
 Discussion, When, Noticing how Pale The   Cheek Was Which Lay Against The 
 Crimson Chair Cushion, And How Very Delicate The   Lines Of   The   Face, She 
 Thought Better Of   It And Was Silent. A While Later, However, When She 
 Had Brought Lois A Cup Of   Gruel And Biscuit, She Broke Out On A New 
 Theme. 
   
   
   
 "What A Thing it Is, That Some People Should Have So Much Silver, And 
 Other People So Little!" 
   
   
   
 "What Silver Are You Thinking of?" 
   
   
   
 "Why, Mrs. Wishart'S, To Be Sure. Who'S Else? I Never Saw Anything like 
 It, Out Of   Aladdin'S Cave. Great Urns, And Salvers, And Cream-Jugs, And 
 Sugar-Bowls, And Cake-Baskets, And Pitchers, And Salt-Cellars. The 
 Salt-Cellars Were Lined with Something yellow, Or Washed, To Hinder The 
 Staining, I Suppose." 
   
   
   
 "Gold," Said Lois. 
   
   
   
 "Gold?" 
   
   
   
 "Yes. Plated with Gold." 
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 39 (Luxury) Pg 123 
   
 "Well I Never Saw Anything like The   Sideboard Down-Stairs; The 
 Sideboard And The   Tea-Table. It Is Funny, Lois, As I Said, Why Some 
 Should Have So Much, And Others So Little." 
   
   
   
 "We, You Mean? What Should We Do With A Load Of   Silver?" 
   
   
   
 "I Wish I Had It, And Then You'D See! You Should Have A Silk Dress, To 
 Begin With, And So Should I." 
   
   
   
 "Never Mind," Said Lois, Letting her Eyelids Fall Again With An 
 Expression Of   Supreme Content, Having finished her Gruel. "There Are 
 Compensations, Madge." 
   
   
   
 "Compensations! What Compensations? We Are Hardly Respectably Dressed, 
 You And I, For This Place." 
   
   
   
 "Never Mind!" Said Lois Again. "If You Had Been Sick As I Was, And In 
 That Place, And Among Those People, You Would Know Something." 
   
   
   
 "What Should I Know?" 
   
   
   
 "How Delightful This Chair Is;--And How Good That Gruel, Out Of   A China 
 Cup;--And How Delicious All This Luxury! Mrs. Wishart Isn'T As Rich As 
 I Am To-Night." 
   
   
   
 "The Difference Is, She Can Keep It, And You Cannot, You Poor Child!" 
   
   
   
 "O Yes, I Can Keep It," Said Lois, In the   Slow, Happy Accent With Which 
 She Said Everything to-Night;--"I Can Keep The   Remembrance Of   It, And 
 The Good Of   It. When I Get Back To My Work, I Shall Not Want It." 
   
   
   
 "Your Work!" Said Madge. 
   
   
   
 "Yes." 
   
   
   
 "Esterbrooke!" 
   
   
   
 "Yes, If They Want Me." 
   
   
   
 "You Are Never Going back To That Place!" Exclaimed madge 
 Energetically. "Never! Not With My Good Leave. Bury Yourself In that 
 
 
 
 Chapter 39 (Luxury) Pg 124 
 Wild Country, And Kill Yourself With Hard Work! Not If I Know It." 
   
   
   
 "If That Is The   Work Given Me," Said Lois, In the   Same Calm Voice. 
 "They Want Somebody There, Badly; And I Have Made A Beginning." 
   
   
   
 "A Nice Beginning!--Almost Killed yourself. Now, Lois, Don'T Think 
 About Anything! Do You Know, Mrs. Wishart Says You Are The   Handsomest 
 Girl She Ever Saw!" 
   
   
   
 "That'S A Mistake. I Know Several Much Handsomer." 
   
   
   
 "She Tried to Make Mr. Dillwyn Say So Too; And He Wouldn'T." 
   
   
   
 "Naturally." 
   
   
   
 "It Was Funny To Hear Them; She Tried to Drive Him Up To The   Point, And 
 He Wouldn'T Be Driven; He Said One Clever Thing after Another, But 
 Always Managed to Give Her No Answer; Till At Last She Pinned him With 
 A Point-Blank Question." 
   
   
   
 "What Did He Do Then?" 
   
   
   
 "Said What You Said; That He Had Seen Women Who Would Be Called 
 Handsomer." 
   
   
   
 The Conversation Dropped here, For Lois Made No Reply, And Madge 
 Recollected she Had Talked enough. 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
 Chapter Xl. 
 
 
 
 Chapter 40 (Attentions) Pg 125 
 It Was Days Before Lois Went Down-Stairs. She Seemed indeed to Be In no 
 Hurry. Her Room Was Luxuriously Comfortable; Madge Tended her There, 
 And Mrs. Wishart Visited her; And Lois Sat In her Great Easy-Chair, And 
 
 
 
 Chapter 40 (Attentions) Pg 126 
 Rested, And Devoured the   Delicate Meals That Were Brought Her; And The 
 Colour Began Gently To Come Back To Her Face, In the   Imperceptible 
 Fashion In which A White Van Thol Tulip Takes On Its Hues Of   Crimson. 
 She Began To Read A Little; But She Did Not Care To Go Down-Stairs. 
 Madge Told Her Everything that Went On; Who Came, And What Was Said By 
 One And Another. Mr. Dillwyn'S Name Was Of   Very Frequent Occurrence. 
   
   
   
 "He'S A Real Nice Man!" Said Madge Enthusiastically. 
   
   
   
 "Madge, Madge, Madge!--You Mustn'T Speak So," Said Lois. "You Must Not 
 Say 'Real Nice.'" 
   
   
   
 "I Don'T, Down-Stairs," Said Madge, Laughing. "It Was Only To You. It 
 Is More Expressive, Lois, Sometimes, To Speak Wrong Than To Speak 
 Right." 
   
   
   
 "Do Not Speak So Expressively, Then." 
   
   
   
 "But I Must, When I Am Speaking of   Mr. Dillwyn. I Never Saw Anybody So 
 Nice. He Is Teaching me To Play Chess, Lois, And It Is Such Fun." 
   
   
   
 "It Seems To Me He Comes Here Very Often." 
   
   
   
 "He Does; He Is An Old Friend Of   Mrs. Wishart'S, And She Is As Glad To 
 See Him As I Am." 
   
   
   
 "Don'T Be Too Glad, Madge. I Do Not Like To Hear You Speak So." 
   
   
   
 "Why Not?" 
   
   
   
 "It Was One Of   The   Reasons Why I Did Not Want To Accept Mrs. Barclay'S 
 Invitation Last Winter, That I Knew He Would Be Visiting her 
 Constantly. I Did Not Expect To See Him _Here_ Much." Lois Looked grave. 
   
   
   
 "What Harm In seeing him, Lois? Why Shouldn'T One Have The   Pleasure? 
 For It Is A Pleasure; His Talk Is So Bright, And His Manner Is So Very 
 Kind And Graceful; And _He_ Is So Kind. He Is Going to Take Me To Drive 
 Again." 
   
   
   
 "You Go To Drive With Mrs. Wishart. Isn'T That Enough?" 
   
   
   
 "It Isn'T A Quarter So Pleasant," Madge Said, Laughing again. "Mr. 
 Dillwyn Talks, Something one Likes To Hear Talked. Mrs. Wishart Tells 
 Me About Old Families, And Where They Used to Live, And Where They Live 
 Now; What Do I Care About Old New York Families! And Mr. Dillwyn Lets 
 
 
 
 Chapter 40 (Attentions) Pg 127 
 _Me_ Talk. I Never Have Anything whatever To Say To Mrs. Wishart; She 
 Does It All." 
   
   
   
 "I Would Rather Have You Go Driving with Her, Though." 
   
   
   
 "Why, Lois? That'S Ridiculous. I Like To Go With Mr. Dillwyn." 
   
   
   
 "Don'T Like It Too Well." 
   
   
   
 "How Can I Like It Too Well?" 
   
   
   
 "So Much That You Would Miss It, When You Do Not Have It Any Longer." 
   
   
   
 "Miss It!" Said Madge, Half Angrily. "I Might _Miss_ It, As I Might 
 Miss Any Pleasant Thing; But I Could Stand That. I'M Not A Chicken Just 
 Out Of   The   Egg. I Have Missed things Before Now, And It Hasn'T Killed 
 Me." 
   
   
   
 "Don'T Think I Am Foolish, Madge. It Isn'T A Question Of   How Much You 
 Can Stand. But The   Men Like--Like This One--Are So Pleasant With Their 
 Graceful, Smooth Ways, That Country Girls Like You And Me Might Easily 
 Be Drawn On, Without Knowing it, Further Than They Want To Go." 
   
   
   
 "He Does Not Want To Draw Anybody On!" Said Madge Indignantly. 
   
   
   
 "That'S The   Very Thing. You Might Think--Or I Might Think--That 
 Pleasant Manner Means Something; And It Don'T Mean Anything." 
   
   
   
 "I Don'T Want It To 'Mean Anything,' As You Say; But What Has Our Being 
 Country Girls To Do With It?" 
   
   
   
 "We Are Not Accustomed to That Sort Of   Society, And So It Makes, I 
 Suppose, More Impression. And What Might Mean Something to Others, 
 Would Not To Us. From Such Men, I Mean." 
   
   
   
 "What Do You Mean By 'Such Men'?" Asked madge, Who Was Getting rather 
 Excited. 
   
   
   
 "Rich--Fashionable--Belonging to The   Great World, And Having the   Ways 
 Of It. You Know What Mr. Dillwyn Is Like. It Is Not What We Have In 
 Shainpuashuh." 
   
   
   
 "But, Lois!--What Are You Talking about? I Don'T Care A Red cent For 
 
 
 
 Chapter 40 (Attentions) Pg 128 
 All This, But I Want To Understand. You Said Such A Manner Would Mean 
 Nothing to _Us_." 
   
   
   
 "Yes." 
   
   
   
 "Why Not To Us, As Well As Anybody Else?" 
   
   
   
 "Because We Are Nobodies, Madge." 
   
   
   
 "What Do You Mean?" Said The   Other Hotly. 
   
   
   
 "Just That. It Is Quite True. You Are Nobody, And I Am Nobody. You See, 
 If We Were Somebody, It Would Be Different." 
   
   
   
 "If You Think--I'Ll Tell You What, Lois! I Think You Are Fit To Be The 
 Wife Of   The   Best Man That Lives And Breathes." 
   
   
   
 "I Think So Myself," Lois Returned quietly. 
   
   
   
 "And I Am." 
   
   
   
 "I Think You Are, Madge. But That Makes No Difference. My Dear, We Are 
 Nobody." 
   
   
   
 "How?"--Impatiently. "Isn'T Our Family As Respectable As Anybody'S? 
 Haven'T We Had Governors And Governors, Of   Massachusetts And 
 Connecticut Both; And Judges And Ministers, Ever So Many, Among Our 
 Ancestors? And Didn'T A Half-Dozen Of   'Em, Or More, Come Over In the 
 'Mayflower'?" 
   
   
   
 "Yes, Madge; All True; And I Am As Glad Of   It As You Are." 
   
   
   
 "Then You Talk Nonsense!" 
   
   
   
 "No, I Don'T," Said Lois, Sighing a Little. "I Have Seen A Little More 
 Of The   World Than You Have, You Know, Dear Madge; Not Very Much, But A 
 Little More Than You; And I Know What I Am Talking about. We Are 
 Unknown, We Are Not Rich, We Have None Of   What They Call 'Connections.' 
 So You See I Do Not Want You To Like Too Much A Person Who, Beyond 
 Civility, And Kindness Perhaps, Would Never Think Of   Liking you." 
   
   
   
 "I Don'T Want Him To, That'S One Thing," Said Madge. "But If All That 
 Is True, He Is Meaner Than I Think Him; That'S What I'Ve Got To Say. 
 
 
 
 Chapter 40 (Attentions) Pg 129 
 And It Is A Mean State Of   Society Where All That Can Be True." 
   
   
   
 "I Suppose It Is Human Nature," Said Lois. 
   
   
   
 "It'S Awfully Mean Human Nature!" 
   
   
   
 "I Guess There Is Not Much True Nobleness But Where The   Religion Of 
 Christ Comes In. If You Have Got That, Madge, Be Content And Thankful." 
   
   
   
 "But Nobody Likes To Be Unjustly Depreciated." 
   
   
   
 "Isn'T That Pride?" 
   
   
   
 "One Must Have Some Pride. I Can'T Make Religion _Everything_, Lois. I 
 Was A Woman Before I Was A Christian." 
   
   
   
 "If You Want To Be A Happy Woman, You Will Let Religion Be Everything." 
   
   
   
 "But, Lois!--Wouldn'T _You_ Like To Be Rich, And Have Pretty Things 
 About You?" 
   
   
   
 "Don'T Ask Me," Said Lois, Smiling. "I Am A Woman Too, And Dearly Fond 
 Of Pretty Things. But, Madge, There Is Something else I Love Better," 
 She Added, With A Sudden Sweet Gravity; "And That Is, The   Will Of   My 
 God. I Would Rather Have What He Chooses To Give Me. Really And Truly; 
 I Would _Rather_ Have That." 
   
   
   
 The Conversation Therewith Was At An End. In the   Evening of   That Same 
 Day Lois Left Her Seclusion And Came Down-Stairs For The   First Time. 
 She Was Languid Enough Yet To Be Obliged to Move Slowly, And Her Cheeks 
 Had Not Got Back Their Full Colour, And Were Thinner Than They Used to 
 Be; Otherwise She Looked well, And Mrs. Wishart Contemplated her With 
 Great Satisfaction. Somewhat To Lois'S Vexation, Or She Thought So, 
 They Found Mr. Diliwyn Down-Stairs Also. Lois Had The   Invalid'S Place 
 Of Honour, In a Corner Of   The   Sofa, With A Little Table Drawn Up For 
 Her Separate Tea; And Madge And Mr. Dillwyn Made Toast For Her At The 
 Fire. The   Fire Gave Its Warm Light, The   Lamps Glittered with A More 
 Brilliant Illumination; Ruddy Hues Of   Tapestry And White Gleams From 
 Silver And Glass Filled the   Room, With Lights And Shadows Everywhere, 
 That Contented the   Eye And The   Imagination Too, With Suggestions Of 
 Luxury And Plenty And Sheltered comfort. Lois Felt The   Shelter And The 
 Comfort And The   Pleasure, With That Enhanced intensity Which Belongs To 
 One'S Sensations In a State Of   Convalescence, And In her Case Was 
 Heightened by Previous Experiences. Nestled among Cushions In her 
 Corner, She Watched everything and Took The   Effect Of   Every Detail; 
 Tasted every Flavour Of   The   Situation; But All With A Thoughtful, 
 Wordless Gravity; She Hardly Spoke At All. 
   
   
   
 After Tea, Mr. Dillwyn And Madge Sat Down To The   Chess-Board. And Then 
 
 
 
 Chapter 40 (Attentions) Pg 130 
 Lois'S Attention Fastened upon Them. Madge Had Drawn The   Little Table 
 That Held The   Chessmen Into Very Close Proximity To The   Sofa, So That 
 She Was Just At Lois'S Hand; But Then Her Whole Mind Was Bent Upon The 
 Game, And Lois Could Study Her As She Pleased. She Did Study Madge. She 
 Admired her Sister'S Great Beauty; The   Glossy Black Hair, The   Delicate 
 Skin, The   Excellent Features, The   Pretty Figure. Madge Was Very 
 Handsome, There Was No Doubt; Mr. Dillwyn Would Not Have Far To Look, 
 Lois Thought, To Find One Handsomer Than Herself Was. There Was A 
 Frank, Fine Expression Of   Face, Too; And Manners Thoroughly Good. They 
 Lacked some Of   The   Quietness Of   Long Usage, Lois Thought; A Quick Look 
 Or Movement Now And Then, Or Her Eager Eyes, Or An Abrupt Tone Of 
 Voice, Did In some Measure Betray The   Country Girl, To Whom Everything 
 Was Novel And Interesting; And Distinguished her From The   Half _Blasé_, 
 Wholly Indifferent Air Of   Other People. She Will Learn That Quietness 
 Soon Enough, Thought Lois; And Then, Nothing could Be Left To Desire In 
 Madge. The   Quietness Had Always Been A Characteristic Of   Lois Herself; 
 Partly Difference Of   Temperament, Partly The   Sweeter Poise Of   Lois'S 
 Mind, Had Made This Difference Between The   Sisters; And Now Of   Course 
 Lois Had Had More Experience Of   People And The   World. But It Was Not In 
 Her The   Result Of   Experience, This Fair, Unshaken Balance Of   Mind And 
 Manner Which Was Always A Charm In her. However, This By The   Way; The 
 Girl Herself Was Drawing no Comparisons, Except So Far As To Judge Her 
 Sister Handsomer Than Herself. 
   
   
   
 From Madge Her Eye Strayed to Mr. Dillwyn, And Studied him. She Was 
 Lying back A Little In shadow, And Could Do It Safely. He Was Teaching 
 Madge The   Game; And Lois Could Not But Acknowledge And Admire In him 
 The Finished manner She Missed in her Sister. Yes, She Could Not Help 
 Admiring it. The   Gentle, Graceful, Easy Way, In which He Directed her, 
 Gave Reproofs And Suggestions About The   Game, And At The   Same Time Kept 
 Up A Running conversation With Mrs. Wishart; Letting not One Thing 
 Interfere With Another, Nor Failing for A Moment To Attend To Both 
 Ladies. There Was A Quiet Perfection About The   Whole Home Picture; It 
 Remained in lois'S Memory For Ever. Mrs. Wishart Sat On An Opposite 
 Sofa Knitting; Not A Long Blue Stocking, Like Her Dear Grandmother, But 
 A Web Of   Wonderful Hues, Thick And Soft, And Various As The   Feathers On 
 A Peacock'S Neck. It Harmonized with All The   Rest Of   The   Room, Where 
 Warmth And Colour And A Certain Fulness Of   Detail Gave The   Impression 
 Of Long-Established easy Living. The   Contrast Was Very Strong With 
 Lois'S Own Life Surroundings; She Compared and Contrasted, And Was Not 
 Quite Sure How Much Of   This Sort Of   Thing might Be Good For Her. 
 However, For The   Present Here She Was, And She Enjoyed it. Then She 
 Queried if Mr. Dillwyn Were Enjoying it. She Noticed the   Hand Which He 
 Had Run Through The   Locks Of   His Hair, Resting his Head On The   Hand. It 
 Was Well Formed, Well Kept; In that Nothing remarkable; But There Was A 
 Certain Character Of   Energy In the   Fingers Which Did Not Look Like The 
 Hand Of   A Lazy Man. How Could He Spend His Life So In doing nothing? 
 She Did Not Fancy That He Cared much About The   Game, Or Much About The 
 Talk; What Was He There For, So Often? Did He, Possibly, Care About 
 Madge? Lois'S Thoughts Came Back To The   Conversation. 
   
   
   
 "Mrs. Wishart, What Is To Be Done With The   Poor Of   Our City?" Mr. 
 Dillwyn Was Saying. 
   
   
   
 "I Don'T Know! I Wish Something could Be Done With Them, To Keep Them 
 From Coming to The   House. My Cook Turns Away A Dozen A Day, Some Days." 
   
   
   
 "Those Are Not The   Poor I Mean." 
   
   
   
 "They Are Poor Enough." 
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 40 (Attentions) Pg 131 
   
   
 "They Are To A Large Extent Pretenders. I Mean The   Masses Of   Solid 
 Poverty Which Fill Certain Parts Of   The   City--And Not Small Parts 
 Either. It Is No Pretence There." 
   
   
   
 "I Thought There Were Societies Enough To Look After Them. I Know I Pay 
 My Share To Keep Up The   Societies. What Are They Doing?" 
   
   
   
 "Something, I Suppose. As If A Man Should Carry A Watering-Pot To 
 Vesuvius." 
   
   
   
 "What In the   World Has Turned _Your_ Attention That Way? I Pay My 
 Subscriptions, And Then I Discharge The   Matter From My Mind. It Is The 
 Business Of   The   Societies. What Has Set You To Thinking about It?" 
   
   
   
 "Something i Have Seen, And Something i Have Heard." 
   
   
   
 "What Have You Heard? Are You Studying political Economy? I Did Not 
 Know You Studied anything but Art Criticism." 
   
   
   
 "What Do You Do With Your Poor At Shampuashuh, Miss Madge?" 
   
   
   
 "We Do Not Have Any Poor. That Is, Hardly Any. There Is Nobody In the 
 Poorhouse. A Few--Perhaps Half A Dozen--People, Cannot Quite Support 
 Themselves. Check To Your Queen, Mr. Dillwyn." 
   
   
   
 "What Do You Do With Them?" 
   
   
   
 "O, Take Care Of   Them. It'S Very Simple. They Understand That Whenever 
 They Are In absolute Need of   It, They Can Go To The   Store And Get What 
 They Want." 
   
   
   
 "At Whose Expense?" 
   
   
   
 "O, There Is A Fund There For Them. Some Of   The   Better-Off People Take 
 Care Of   That." 
   
   
   
 "I Should Think That Would Be Quite Too Simple," Said Mrs. Wishart, 
 "And Extremely Liable To Abuse." 
   
   
   
 "It Is Never Abused, Though. Some Of   The   People, Those Poor Ones, Will 
 Come As Near As Possible To Starving before They Will Apply For 
 Anything." 
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 40 (Attentions) Pg 132 
 Mrs. Wishart Remarked that Shampuashuh Was Altogether Unlike All Other 
 Places She Ever Had Heard Of. 
   
   
   
 "Things At Shampuashuh Are As They Ought To Be," Mr. Dillwyn Said. 
   
   
   
 "Now, Mr. Dillwyn," Cried madge, "I Will Forgive You For Taking my 
 Queen, If You Will Answer A Question For Me. What Is 'Art Criticism'?" 
   
   
   
 "Why, Madge, You Know!" Said Lois From Her Sofa Corner. 
   
   
   
 "I Do Not Admire Ignorance So Much As To Pretend To It," Madge 
 Rejoined. "What Is Art Criticism, Mr. Dillwyn?" 
   
   
   
 "What Is Art?" 
   
   
   
 "That Is What I Do Not Know!" Said Madge, Laughing. "I Understand 
 Criticism. It Is The   Art That Bothers Me. I Only Know That It Is 
 Something as Far From Nature As Possible." 
   
   
   
 "O Madge, Madge!" Said Lois Again; And Mr. Dillwyn Laughed a Little. 
   
   
   
 "On The   Contrary, Miss Madge. Your Learning must Be Unlearnt. Art Is 
 Really So Near To Nature--Check!--That It Consists In giving again The 
 Facts And Effects Of   Nature In human Language." 
   
   
   
 "Human Language? That Is, Letters And Words?" 
   
   
   
 "Those Are The   Symbols Of   One Language." 
   
   
   
 "What Other Is There?" 
   
   
   
 "Music--Painting--Architecture---- I Am Afraid, Miss Madge, That Is 
 Check-Mate?" 
   
   
   
 "You Said You Had Seen And Heard Something, Mr. Dillwyn," Mrs. Wishart 
 Now Began. "Do Tell Us What. I Have Neither Seen Nor Heard Anything in 
 An Age." 
   
   
   
 Mr. Dillwyn Was Setting the   Chessmen Again. 
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 40 (Attentions) Pg 133 
   
 "What I Saw," He Said, "Was A Silk Necktie--Or Scarf--Such As We Wear. 
 What I Heard, Was The   Price Paid For Making it." 
   
   
   
 "Was There Anything remarkable About The   Scarf?" 
   
   
   
 "Nothing whatever; Except The   Aforesaid Price." 
   
   
   
 "What _Was_ The   Price Paid For Making it?" 
   
   
   
 "Two Cents." 
   
   
   
 "Who Told You?" 
   
   
   
 "A Friend Of   Mine, Who Took Me In on Purpose That I Might See And Hear, 
 What I Have Reported." 
   
   
   
 "_Two Cents_, Did You Say? But That'S No Price!" 
   
   
   
 "So I Thought." 
   
   
   
 "How Many Could A Woman Make In a Day, Madge, Of   Those Silk Scarfs?" 
   
   
   
 "I Don'T Know--I Suppose, A Dozen." 
   
   
   
 "A Dozen, I Was Told, Is A Fair Day'S Work," Mr. Dillwyn Said. "They Do 
 More, But It Is By Working on Into The   Night." 
   
   
   
 "Good Patience! Twenty-Five Cents For A Hard Day'S Work!" Said Mrs. 
 Wishart. "A Dollar And A Half A Week! Where Is Bread To Come From, To 
 Keep Them Alive To Do It?" 
   
   
   
 "Better Die At Once, I Should Say," Echoed madge. 
   
   
   
 "Many A One Would Be Glad Of   That Alternative, I Doubt Not," Mr. 
 Dillwyn Went On. "But There Is Perhaps An Old Mother To Be Taken Care 
 Of, Or A Child Or Two To Feed and Bring up." 
   
   
   
 "Don'T Talk About It!" Said Mrs. Wishart. "It Makes Me Feel Blue." 
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 40 (Attentions) Pg 134 
   
 "I Must Risk That. I Want You To Think About It. Where Is Help To Come 
 From? These Are The   People I Was Thinking of, When I Asked you What Was 
 To Be Done With Our Poor." 
   
   
   
 "I Don'T Know Why You Ask Me. _I_ Can Do Nothing. It Is Not My 
 Business." 
   
   
   
 "Will It Do To Assume That As Quite Certain?" 
   
   
   
 "Why Yes. What Can I Do With A Set Of   Master Tailors?" 
   
   
   
 "You Can Cry Down The   Cheap Shops; And Say Why." 
   
   
   
 "Are The   Dear Shops Any Better?" 
   
   
   
 Mr. Dillwyn Laughed. "Presumably! But Talking--Even Your Talking--Will 
 Not Do All. I Want You To Think About It." 
   
   
   
 "I Don'T Want To Think About It," Answered the   Lady. "It'S Beyond _Me_. 
 Poverty Is People'S Own Fault. Industrious And Honest People Can Always 
 Get Along." 
   
   
   
 "If Sickness Does Not Set In, Or Some Father, Or Husband, Or Son Does 
 Not Take To Bad Ways." 
   
   
   
 "How Can I Help All That?" Asked the   Lady Somewhat Pettishly. "I Never 
 Knew You Were In the   Benevolent And Reformatory Line Before, Mr. 
 Dillwyn. What Has Put All This In your Head?" 
   
   
   
 "Those Scarfs, For One Thing. Another Thing was A Visit I Had Lately 
 Occasion To Make. It Was Near Midday. I Found A Room As Bare As A Room 
 Could Be, Of   All That We Call Comfort; In the   Floor A Small Pine Table 
 Set With Three Plates, Bread, Cold Herrings, And Cheese. That Was The 
 Dinner For A Little Boy, Whom I Found Setting the   Table, And His Father 
 And Mother. The   Parents Work In a Factory Hard By, From Early To Late; 
 They Have Had Sickness In the   Family This Autumn, And Are Too Poor To 
 Afford A Fire To Eat Their Dinner By, Or To Make It Warm, So The   Other 
 Child, A Little Girl, Has Been Sent Away For The   Winter. It Was 
 Frostily Cold The   Day I Was There. The   Boy Goes To School In the 
 Afternoon, And Comes Home In time To Light Up A Fire For His Father And 
 Mother To Warm Themselves By At Evening. And The   Mother Has All Her 
 Housework To Do After She Comes Home." 
   
   
   
 "That'S Better Than The   Other Case," Said Mrs. Wishart. 
   
   
   
 "But What Could Be Done, Mr. Dillwyn?" Said Lois From Her Corner. "It 
 
 
 
 Chapter 40 (Attentions) Pg 135 
 Seems As If Something was Wrong. But How Could It Be Mended?" 
   
   
   
 "I Want Mrs. Wishart To Consider Of   That." 
   
   
   
 "I Can'T Consider It!" Said The   Lady. "I Suppose It Is Intended that 
 There Should Be Poor People Always, To Give Us Something to Do." 
   
   
   
 "Then Let Us Do It." 
   
   
   
 "How?" 
   
   
   
 "I Am Not Certain; But I Make A Suggestion. Suppose All The   Ladies Of 
 This City Devoted their Diamonds To This Purpose. Then Any Number Of 
 Dwelling-Houses Could Be Put Up; Separate, But So Arranged as To Be 
 Warmed by Steam From A General Centre, At A Merely Nominal Cost For 
 Each One; Well Ventilated and Comfortable; So Putting an End To The 
 Enormity Of   Tenement Houses. Then A Commission Might Be Established to 
 Look After The   Rights Of   The   Poor; To See That They Got Proper Wages, 
 Were Not Cheated, And That All Should Have Work Who Wanted it. So Much 
 Might Be Done." 
   
   
   
 "With No End Of   Money." 
   
   
   
 "I Proposed to Take The   Diamonds Of   The   City, You Know." 
   
   
   
 "And Why Just The   Diamonds?" Inquired mrs. Wishart. "Why Don'T You 
 Speak Of   Some Of   The   Indulgences Of   The   Men? Take The   Horses--Or The 
 Wines--" 
   
   
   
 "I Am Speaking to A Lady," Said Dillwyn, Smiling. "When I Have A Man To 
 Apply To, I Will Make My Application Accordingly." 
   
   
   
 "Ask Him For His Tobacco?" Said Mrs. Wishart. 
   
   
   
 "Certainly For His Tobacco. There Is As Much Money Spent In this City 
 For Tobacco As There Is For Bread." 
   
   
   
 Madge Exclaimed in incredulous Astonishment; And Lois Asked if The 
 Diamonds Of   The   City Would Amount To Very Much. 
   
   
   
 "Yes, Miss Lois. American Ladies Are Very Fond Of   Diamonds; And It Is A 
 Common Thing for One Of   Them To Have From Ten Thousand To Twenty 
 Thousand Or Thirty Thousand Dollars' Worth Of   Them As Part Of   The 
 Adornment Of   Her Pretty Person At One Time." 
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 40 (Attentions) Pg 136 
   
   
 "Twenty Thousand Dollars' Worth Of   Diamonds On At Once!" Cried madge. 
 "I Call That Wicked!" 
   
   
   
 "Why?" Asked mr. Dillwyn, Smiling. 
   
   
   
 "There'S No Wickedness In it," Said Mrs. Wishart. "How Should It Be 
 Wicked? You Put On A Flower; And Another, Who Can Afford It, Puts On A 
 Diamond. What'S The   Difference?" 
   
   
   
 "My Flower Does Not Cost Anybody Anything," Said Madge. 
   
   
   
 "What Do My Diamonds Cost Anybody?" Returned mrs. Wishart. 
   
   
   
 Madge Was Silent, Though Not Because She Had Nothing to Say; And At 
 This Precise Moment The   Door Opened, And Visitors Were Ushered in. 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 41 (Chess) Pg 137 
   
 There Entered upon The   Scene, That Is, A Little Lady Of   Very Gay And 
 Airy Manner; Whose Airiness, However, Was Thoroughly Well Bred. She Was 
 Accompanied by A Tall, Pleasant-Looking man, Of   Somewhat Dreamy Aspect; 
 And They Were Named to Lois And Madge As Mrs. And Mr. Burrage. To Mr. 
 Dillwyn They Were Not Named; And The   Greet ing in that Quarter Was 
 Familiar; The   Lady Giving him A Nod, And The   Gentleman An Easy "Good 
 Evening." The   Lady'S Attention Came Round To Him Again As Soon As She 
 Was Seated. 
   
   
   
 "Why, Philip, I Did Not Expect To Find You. What Are You Doing here?" 
   
   
   
 "I Was Making toast A Little While Ago." 
   
   
   
 "I Did Not Know That Was One Of   Your Accomplishments." 
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 41 (Chess) Pg 138 
   
 "They Said I Did It Well. I Have Picked up A Good Deal Of   Cooking in 
 The Course Of   My Travels." 
   
   
   
 "In What Part Of   The   World Did You Learn To Make Toast?" Asked the 
 Lady, While A Pair Of   Lively Eyes Seemed to Take Note Rapidly Of   All 
 That Was In the   Room; Rapidly But Carefully, Lois Thought. She Was Glad 
 She Herself Was Hidden In the   Shadowy Sofa Corner. 
   
   
   
 "I Believe That Is Always Learned in a Cold Country, Where People Have 
 Fire," Mr. Dillwyn Answered the   Question. 
   
   
   
 "These People Who Travel All Over Get To Be Insufferable!" The   Little 
 Lady Went On, Turning to Mrs. Wishart; "They Think They Know 
 Everything; And They Are Not A Bit Wiser Than The   Rest Of   Us. You Were 
 Not At The   De Large'S Luncheon,--What A Pity! I Know; Your Cold Shut 
 You Up. You Must Take Care Of   That Cold. Well, You Lost Something. This 
 Is The   Seventh Entertainment That Has Been Given To That English Party; 
 And Every One Of   Them Has Exceeded the   Others. There Is Nothing left 
 For The   Eighth. Nobody Will Dare Give An Eighth. One Is Fairly Tired 
 With The   Struggle Of   Magnificence. It'S The   Battle Of   The   Giants Over 
 Again, With A Difference." 
   
   
   
 "It Is Not A Battle With Attempt To Destroy," Said Her Husband. 
   
   
   
 "Yes, It Is--To Destroy Competition. I Have Been At Every One Of   The 
 Seven But One--And I Am Absolutely Tired with Splendour. But There Is 
 Really Nothing left For Any One Else To Do. I Don'T See How One Is To 
 Go Any Further--Without The   Lamp Of   Aladdin." 
   
   
   
 "A Return To Simplicity Would Be Grateful," Remarked mrs. Wishart. "And 
 As New As Anything else Could Be." 
   
   
   
 "Simplicity! O, My Dear Mrs. Wishart!--Don'T Talk Of   Simplicity. We 
 Don'T Want Simplicity. We Have Got Past That. Simplicity Is The   Dream 
 Of Children And Country Folks; And It Means, Eating your Meat With Your 
 Fingers." 
   
   
   
 "It'S The   Sweetest Way Of   All," Said Dillwyn. 
   
   
   
 "Where Did You Discover That? It Must Have Been Among Savages. 
 Children--Country Folks--_And_ Savages, I Ought To Have Said." 
   
   
   
 "Orientals Are Not Savages. On The   Contrary, Very Far Exceeding in 
 Politeness Any Western Nation I Know Of." 
   
   
   
 "You Would Set A Table, Then, With Napkins And Fingers! Or Are The 
 Napkins Not Essential?" 
 
 
 
 Chapter 41 (Chess) Pg 139 
   
   
   
 "C'Est Selon," Said Dillwyn. "In A Strawberry Bed, Or Under A Cherry 
 Tree, I Should Vote Them A Nuisance. At An Asiatic Grandee'S Table You 
 Would Have Them Embroidered and Perfumed; And One For Your Lap And 
 Another For Your Lips." 
   
   
   
 "Evidently They Are Long Past The   Stage Of   Simplicity. Talking of 
 Napkins We Had Them Embroidered--And Exquisitely--Japanese Work; At The 
 De Larges'. Mine Had A Peacock In one Corner; Or I Don'T Know If It Was 
 A Peacock; It Was A Gay-Feathered bird--" 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
 "A Peacock Has A Tail," Suggested mr. Dillwyn. 
   
   
   
 "Well, I Don'T Know Whether It Had A Tail, But It Was Most Exquisite; 
 In Blue And Red and Gold; I Never Saw Anything prettier. And At Every 
 Plate Were Such Exquisite Gifts! Really Elegant, You Know. Flowers Are 
 All Very Well; But When It Comes To Jewellery, I Think It Is A Little 
 Beyond Good Taste. Everybody Can'T Do It, You Know; And It Is Rather 
 Embarrassing to _Nous Autres_." 
   
   
   
 "Simplicity _Has_ Its Advantages," Observed mr. Dillwyn. 
   
   
   
 "Nonsense, Philip! You Are As Artificial A Man As Any One I Know." 
   
   
   
 "In What Sense?" Asked mr. Dillwyn Calmly. "You Are Bound To Explain, 
 For The   Sake Of   My Character, That I Do Not Wear False Heels To My 
 Boots." 
   
   
   
 "Don'T Be Ridiculous! You Have No Need to Wear False Heels. _Art_ Need 
 Not Be _False_, Need it?" 
   
   
   
 "True Art Never Is," Said Mr. Dillwyn, Amid Some Laughter. 
   
   
   
 "Well, Artifice, Then?" 
   
   
   
 "Artifice, I Am Afraid, Is Of   Another Family, And Not Allied to Truth." 
   
   
   
 "Well, Everybody That Knows You Knows You Are True; But They Know, Too, 
 That If Ever There Was A Fastidious Man, It Is You; And A Man That 
 Wants Everything at Its Last Pitch Of   Refinement." 
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 41 (Chess) Pg 140 
   
 "Which Desirable Stage I Should Say The   Luncheon You Were Describing 
 Had Not Reached." 
   
   
   
 "You Don'T Know. I Had Not Told You The   Half. Fancy!--The Ice Floated 
 In Our Glasses In the   Form Of   Pond Lilies; As Pretty As Possible, With 
 Broad Leaves And Buds." 
   
   
   
 "How Did They Get It In such Shapes?" Asked madge, With Her Eyes A 
 Trifle Wider Open Than Was Usual With Them. 
   
   
   
 "O, Froze It In moulds, Of   Course. But You Might Have Fancied the 
 Fairies Had Carved it. Then, Mrs. Wishart, There Was An Arrangement Of 
 Glasses Over The   Gas Burners, Which Produced the   Most Silver Sounds Of 
 Music You Ever Heard; No Chime, You Know, Of   Course; But A Most 
 Peculiar, Sweet, Mysterious Succession Of   Musical Breathings. Add To 
 That, By Means Of   Some Invisible Vaporizers, The   Whole Air Was Filled 
 With Sweetness; Now It Was Orange Flowers, And Now It Was Roses, And 
 Then Again It Would Be Heliotrope Or Violets; I Never Saw Anything so 
 Refined and So Exquisite In my Life. Waves Of   Sweetness, Rising and 
 Falling, Coming and Going, And Changing; It Was Perfect." 
   
   
   
 The Little Lady Delivered herself Of   This Description With Much 
 Animation, Accompanying the   Latter Part Of   It With A Soft Waving of   Her 
 Hand; Which Altogether Overcame Philip'S Gravity, And He Burst Into A 
 Laugh, In which Mr. Burrage Presently Joined him; And Lois And Madge 
 Found It Impossible Not To Follow. 
   
   
   
 "What'S The   Matter, Philip?" The   Lady Asked. 
   
   
   
 "I Am Reminded of   An Old Gentleman I Once Saw At Gratz; He Was Copying 
 The Madonna Della Seggia In a Mosaic Made With The   Different-Coloured 
 Wax Heads Of   Matches." 
   
   
   
 "He Must Have Been Out Of   His Head." 
   
   
   
 "That Was The   Conclusion I Came To." 
   
   
   
 "Pray What Brought Him To Your Remembrance Just Then?" 
   
   
   
 "I Was Thinking of   The   Different Ways People Take In the   Search After 
 Happiness." 
   
   
   
 "And One Worth As Much As Another, I Suppose You Mean? That Is A Matter 
 Of Taste. Mrs. Wishart, I See _Your_ Happiness Is Cared for, In having 
 Such Charming friends With You. O, By The   Way!--Talking of 
 Seeing,--_Have_ You Seen Dulles & Grant'S New Persian Rugs And Carpets?" 
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 41 (Chess) Pg 141 
   
 "I Have Been Hardly Anywhere. I Wanted to Take Madge To See Brett'S 
 Collection Of   Paintings; But I Have Been Unequal To Any Exertion." 
   
   
   
 "Well, The   First Time You Go Anywhere, Go To Dulles & Grant'S. Take Her 
 To See Those. Pictures Are Common; But These Turkish Rugs And Things 
 Are Not. They Are The   Most Exquisite, The   Most Odd, The   Most Delicious 
 Things You Ever Saw. I Have Been Wanting to Ruin Myself With Them Ever 
 Since I Saw Them. It'S High Art, Really. Those Orientals Are Wonderful 
 People! There Is One Rug--It Is As Large As This Floor, Nearly,--Well, 
 It Is Covered with Medallions In old Gold, Set In a Wild, Irregular 
 Design Of   All Sorts Of   Cashmere Shawl Colours--Thrown About Anyhow; And 
 Yet The   Effect Is Rich Beyond Description; Simple, Too. Another,--O, 
 That Is Very Rare; It Is A Rare Keelum Carpet; Let Me See If I Can 
 Describe It. The   Ground Is A Full Bright Red. Over This Run Palm Leaves 
 And Little Bits Of   Ruby And Maroon And Gold Mosaic; And Between The 
 Palm Leaves Come Great Ovals Of   Olive Mixed with Black, Blue, And 
 Yellow; Shading off Into Them. I _Never_ Saw Anything i Wanted so Much." 
   
   
   
 "What Price?" 
   
   
   
 "O, They Are All Prices. The   Keelum Carpet Is Only Fifteen Hundred--But 
 My Husband Says It Is Too Much. Then Another Persian Carpet Has A 
 Centre Of   Red and White. Round This A Border Of   Palm Leaves. Round 
 These Another Border Of   Deliciously Mixed up Warm Colours; Warm And 
 Rich. Then Another Border Of   Palms; And Then The   Rest Of   The   Carpet Is 
 In Blended shades Of   Dark Dull Red and Pink, With Olive Flowers Thrown 
 Over It. O, I Can'T Tell You The   Half. You Must Go And See. They Have 
 Immensely Wide Borders, All Of   Them; And Great Thick, Soft Piles." 
   
   
   
 "Have You Been To Brett'S Collection?" 
   
   
   
 "Yes." 
   
   
   
 "What Is There?" 
   
   
   
 "The Usual Thing. O, But I Haven'T Told You What I Have Come Here For 
 To-Night." 
   
   
   
 "I Thought It Was, To See Me." 
   
   
   
 "Yes, But Not For Pleasure, This Time," Said The   Lively Lady, Laughing. 
 "I Had Business--I Really Do Have Business Sometimes. I Came This 
 Evening, Because I Wanted to See You When I Could Have A Chance To 
 Explain Myself. Mrs. Wishart, I Want You To Take My Place. They Have 
 Made Me First Directress Of   The   Forlorn Children'S Home." 
   
   
   
 "Does The   Epithet Apply To The   Place? Or To The   Children?" Mr. Dillwyn 
 Asked. 
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 41 (Chess) Pg 142 
   
 "Now I _Cannot_ Undertake The   Office," Mrs. Burrage Went On Without 
 Heeding him. "My Hands Are As Full As They Can Hold, And My Head 
 Fuller. You Must Take It, Mrs. Wishart. You Are Just The   Person." 
   
   
   
 "I?" Said Mrs. Wishart, With No Delighted expression. "What Are The 
 Duties?" 
   
   
   
 "O, Just Oversight, You Know; Keeping things Straight. Everybody Needs 
 To Be Kept Up To The   Mark. I Cannot, For Our Reading club Meets Just At 
 The Time When I Ought To Be Up At The   Home." 
   
   
   
 The Ladies Went Into A Closer Discussion Of   The   Subject In its Various 
 Bearings; And Mr. Dillwyn And Madge Returned to Their Chess Play. Lois 
 Lay Watching and Thinking. Mr. Burrage Looked on At The   Chess-Board, 
 And Made Remarks On The   Game Languidly. By And By The   Talk Of   The   Two 
 Ladies Ceased, And The   Head Of   Mrs. Burrage Came Round, And She Also 
 Studied the   Chess-Players. Her Face Was Observant And Critical, Lois 
 Thought; Oddly Observant And Thoughtful. 
   
   
   
 "Where Did You Get Such Charming friends To Stay With You, Mrs. 
 Wishart? You Are To Be Envied." 
   
   
   
 Mrs. Wishart Explained, How Lois Had Been Ill, And Had Come To Get Well 
 Under Her Care. 
   
   
   
 "You Must Bring them To See Me. Will You? Are They Fond Of   Music? Bring 
 Them To My Next Musical Evening." 
   
   
   
 And Then She Rose; But Before Taking leave She Tripped across To Lois'S 
 Couch And Came And Stood Quite Close To Her, Looking at Her For A 
 Moment In what Seemed to The   Girl Rather An Odd Silence. 
   
   
   
 "You Aren'T Equal To Playing chess Yet?" Was Her Equally Odd Abrupt 
 Question. Lois'S Smile Showed some Amusement. 
   
   
   
 "My Brother Is Such An Idle Fellow, He Has Got Nothing better To Do 
 Than To Amuse Sick People. It'S Charity To Employ Him. And When You Are 
 Able To Come Out, If You'Ll Come To Me, You Shall Hear Some Good Music. 
 Good-Bye!" 
   
   
   
 Her Brother! Thought Lois As She Went Off. Mr. Dillwyn, _Her_ Brother! 
 I Don'T Believe She Likes Madge And Me To Know Him. 
   
   
   
 Meanwhile Mr. And Mrs. Chauncey Burrage Drove Away In silence For A Few 
 Minutes; Then The   Lady Broke Out. 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 41 (Chess) Pg 143 
 "There'S Mischief There, Chauncey!" 
   
   
   
 "What Mischief?" The   Gentleman Asked innocently. 
   
   
   
 "Those Girls." 
   
   
   
 "Very Handsome Girls. At Least The   One That Was Visible." 
   
   
   
 "The Other'S Worse. _I_ Saw Her. The   One You Saw Is Handsome; But The 
 Other Is Peculiar. She Is Rare. Maybe Not Just So Handsome, But More 
 Refined; And _Peculiar_. I Don'T Know Just What It Is In her; But She 
 Fascinated me. Masses Of   Auburn Hair--Not Just Auburn--More Of   A Golden 
 Tint Than Brown--With A Gold _Reflet_, You Know, That Is So Lovely; And 
 A Face--" 
   
   
   
 "Well, What Sort Of   A Face?" Asked mr. Burrage, As His Spouse Paused. 
   
   
   
 "Something between A Baby And An Angel, And Yet With A Sort Of   Sybil 
 Look Of   Wisdom. I Believe She Put One Of   Domenichino'S Sybils Into My 
 Head; There'S That Kind Of   Complexion--" 
   
   
   
 "My Dear," Said The   Gentleman, Laughing, "You Could Not Tell What 
 Complexion She Was Of. She Was In a Shady Corner." 
   
   
   
 "I Was Quite Near Her. Now That Sort Of   Thing might Just Catch Philip." 
   
   
   
 "Well," Said The   Gentleman, "You Cannot Help That." 
   
   
   
 "I Don'T Know If I Can Or No!" 
   
   
   
 "Why Should You Want To Help It, After All?" 
   
   
   
 "Why? I Don'T Want Philip To Make A Mis-Match." 
   
   
   
 "Why Should It Be A Mis-Match?" 
   
   
   
 "Philip Has Got Too Much Money To Marry A Girl With Nothing." 
   
   
   
 Mr. Burrage Laughed. His Wife Demanded to Know What He Was Laughing at? 
 And He Said "The Logic Of   Her Arithmetic." 
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 41 (Chess) Pg 144 
   
 "You Men Have No More Logic In action, Than We Women Have In 
 Speculation. I Am Logical The   Other Way." 
   
   
   
 "That Is Too Involved for Me To Follow. But It Occurs To Me To Ask, Why 
 Should There Be Any Match In the   Case Here?" 
   
   
   
 "That'S So Like A Man! Why Shouldn'T There? Take A Man Like My Brother, 
 Who Don'T Know What To Do With Himself; A Man Whose Eye And Ear Are 
 Refined till He Judges Everything according to A Standard Of 
 Beauty;--And Give Him A Girl Like That To Look At! I Said She Reminded 
 Me Of   One Of   Domenichino'S Sybils--But It Isn'T That. I'Ll Tell You 
 What It Is. She Is Like One Of   Fra Angelico'S Angels. Fancy Philip Set 
 Down Opposite To One Of   Fra Angelico'S Angels In flesh And Blood!" 
   
   
   
 "Can A Man Do Better Than Marry An Angel?" 
   
   
   
 "Yes! So Long As He Is Not An Angel Himself, And Don'T Live In 
 Paradise." 
   
   
   
 "They Do Not Marry In paradise," Said Mr. Burrage Dryly. "But Why A 
 Fellow May Not Get As Near A Paradisaical Condition As He Can, With The 
 Drawback Of   Marriage, And In this Mundane Sphere,--I Do Not See." 
   
   
   
 "Men Never See Anything till Afterwards. I Don'T Know Anything about 
 This Girl, Chauncey, Except Her Face. But It Is Just The   Way With Men, 
 To Fall In love With A Face. I Do Not Know What She Is, Only She Is 
 Nobody; And Philip Ought To Marry Somebody. I Know Where They Are From. 
 She Has No Money, And She Has No Family; She Has Of   Course No Breeding; 
 She Has Probably No Education, To Fit Her For Being his Wife. Philip 
 Ought To Have The   Very Reverse Of   All That. Or Else He Ought Not To 
 Marry At All, And Let His Money Come To Little Phil Chauncey." 
   
   
   
 "What Are You Going to Do About It?" Asked the   Gentleman, Seeming 
 Amused. 
   
   
   
 But Mrs. Burrage Made No Answer, And The   Rest Of   The   Drive, Long As It 
 Was, Was Rather Stupid. 
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 42 (Rules) Pg 145 
   
   
 The Next Day Mr. Dillwyn Came To Take Madge To See Brett'S Collection 
 Of Paintings. Mrs. Wishart Declared herself Not Yet Up To It. Madge 
 Came Home In a Great State Of   Delight. 
   
   
   
 "It Was So Nice!" She Explained to Her Sister; "Just As Nice As It 
 Could Be. Mr. Dillwyn Was So Pleasant; And Told Me Everything and About 
 Everything; About The   Pictures, And The   Masters; I Shouldn'T Have Known 
 What Anything meant, But He Explained it All. And It Was Such Fun To 
 See The   People." 
   
   
   
 "The People!" Said Lois. 
   
   
   
 "Yes. There Were A Great Many People; Almost A Crowd; And It _Did_ 
 Amuse Me To Watch Them." 
   
   
   
 "I Thought You Went To See The   Paintings." 
   
   
   
 "Well, I Saw The   Paintings; And I Heard More About Them Than I Can Ever 
 Remember." 
   
   
   
 "What Was There?" 
   
   
   
 "O, I Can'T Tell You. Landscapes And Landscapes; And Then Holy 
 Families; And Saints In misery, Of   One Sort Or Another; And 
 Battle-Pieces, But Those Were Such Confusion That All I Could Make Out 
 Was Horses On Their Hind-Legs; And Portraits. I Think It Is Nonsense 
 For People To Try To Paint Battles; They Can'T Do It; And, Besides, As 
 Far As The   Fighting goes, One Fight Is Just Like Another. Mr. Dillwyn 
 Told Me Of   A Travelling showman, In germany, Who Travelled about With 
 The Panorama Of   A Battle; And Every Year He Gave It A New Name, The 
 Name Of   The   Last Battle That Was In men'S Mouths; And All He Had To Do 
 Was To Change The   Uniforms, He Said. He Had A Pot Of   Green Paint For 
 The Prussians, And Red for The   English, And Blue, I Believe, For The 
 French, And So On; And It Did Just As Well." 
   
   
   
 "What Did You See That You Liked best?" 
   
   
   
 "I'Ll Tell You. It Was A Little Picture Of   Kittens, In and Out Of   A 
 Basket. Mr. Dillwyn Didn'T Care About It; But I Thought It Was The 
 Prettiest Thing there. Mrs. Burrage Was There." 
   
   
   
 "Was She?" 
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 42 (Rules) Pg 146 
   
 "And Mr. Dillwyn Does Know More Than Ever Anybody Else In the   World, I 
 Think. O, He Was So Nice, Lois! So Nice And Kind. I Wouldn'T Have Given 
 A Pin To Be There, If It Hadn'T Been For Him. He Wouldn'T Let Me Get 
 Tired; And He Made Everything amusing; And O, I Could Have Sat There 
 Till Now And Watched the   People." 
   
   
   
 "The People! If The   Pictures Were Good, I Don'T See How You Could Have 
 Eyes For The   People." 
   
   
   
 "'The Proper Study Of   Mankind Is _Man_,' My Dear; And I Like Them Alive 
 Better Than Painted. It Was Fun To See The   Dresses; And Then The   Ways. 
 How Some People Tried to Be Interested--" 
   
   
   
 "Like You?" 
   
   
   
 "What Do You Mean? I _Was_ Interested; And Some Talked and Flirted, And 
 Some Stared. I Watched every New Set That Came In. Mr. Diliwyn Says He 
 Will Come And Take Us To The   Philarmonic, As Soon As The   Performances 
 Begin." 
   
   
   
 "Madge, It Is _Better_ For Us To Go With Mrs. Wishart." 
   
   
   
 "She May Go Too, If She Likes." 
   
   
   
 "And It Is _Better_ For Us Not To Go With Mr. Diliwyn, More Than We Can 
 Help." 
   
   
   
 "I Won'T," Said Madge. "I Can'T Help Going with Him Whenever He Asks 
 Me, And I Am Not Going any Other Time." 
   
   
   
 "What Did Mrs. Burrage Say To You?" 
   
   
   
 "Hm!-- Not Much. I Caught Her Looking at Me More Than Once. She Said 
 She Would Have A Musical Party Next Week, And We Must Come; And She 
 Asked if You Would Be Well Enough." 
   
   
   
 "I Hope I Shall Not." 
   
   
   
 "That'S Nonsense. Mr. Dillwyn Wants Us To Go, I Know." 
   
   
   
 "That Is Not A Reason For Going." 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 42 (Rules) Pg 147 
 "I Think It _Is_. He Is Just As Good As He Can Be, And I Like Him More 
 Than Anybody Else I Ever Saw In my Life. I'D Like To See The   Thing he'D 
 Ask Me, That I Wouldn'T Do." 
   
   
   
 "Madge, Madge!" 
   
   
   
 "Hush, Lois; That'S Nonsense." 
   
   
   
 "Madge You Trouble Me Very Much." 
   
   
   
 "And That'S Nonsense Too." 
   
   
   
 Madge Was Beginning to Get Over The   First Sense Of   Novelty And 
 Strangeness In all About Her; And, As She Overcame That, A Feeling of 
 Delight Replaced it, And Grew And Grew. Madge Was Revelling in 
 Enjoyment. She Went Out With Mrs. Wishart, For Drives In the   Park And 
 For Shopping expeditions In the   City, And Once Or Twice To Make Visits. 
 She Went Out With Mr. Dillwyn, Too, As We Have Seen, Who Took Her To 
 Drive, And Conducted her To Galleries Of   Pictures And Museums Of 
 Curiosities; And Finally, And With Mrs. Wishart, To A Philharmonic 
 Rehearsal. Madge Came Home In a Great State Of   Exultation; Though Lois 
 Was Almost Indignant To Find That The   Place And The   People Had Rivalled 
 The Performance In producing it. Lois Herself Was Almost Well Enough To 
 Go, Though Delicate Enough Still To Allow Her The   Choice Of   Staying at 
 Home. She Was Looking like Herself Again; Yet A Little Paler In colour 
 And More Deliberate In action Than Her Old Wont; Both The   Tokens Of   A 
 Want Of   Strength Which Continued to Be Very Manifest. One Day Madge 
 Came Home From Going with Mrs. Wishart To Dulles & Grant'S. I May 
 Remark That The   Evening at Mrs. Burrage'S Had Not Yet Come Off, Owing 
 To A Great Storm The   Night Of   The   Music Party; But Another Was Looming 
 Up In the   Distance. 
   
   
   
 "Lois," Madge Delivered herself As She Was Taking off Her Wrappings, 
 "It Is A Great Thing to Be Rich!" 
   
   
   
 "One Needs To Be Sick To Know How True That Is," Responded lois. "If 
 You Could Guess What I Would Have Given Last Summer And Fall For A Few 
 Crumbs Of   The   Comfort With Which This House Is Stacked full--Like Hay 
 In A Barn!" 
   
   
   
 "But I Am Not Thinking of   Comfort." 
   
   
   
 "I Am. How I Wanted everything for The   Sick People At Esterbrooke. 
 Think Of   Not Being able To Change Their Bed linen Properly, Nor 
 Anything like Properly!" 
   
   
   
 "Of Course," Said Madge, "Poor People Do Not Have Plenty Of   Things. But 
 I Was Not Thinking of   _Comfort_, When I Spoke." 
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 42 (Rules) Pg 148 
 "Comfort Is The   Best Thing." 
   
   
   
 "Don'T You Like Pretty Things?" 
   
   
   
 "Too Well, I Am Afraid." 
   
   
   
 "You Cannot Like Them Too Well. Pretty Things Were Meant To Be Liked. 
 What Else Were They Made For? And Of   All Pretty Things--O, Those 
 Carpets And Rugs! Lois, I Never Saw Or Dreamed of   Anything so 
 Magnificent. I _Should_ Like To Be Rich, For Once!" 
   
   
   
 "To Buy A Persian Carpet?" 
   
   
   
 "Yes. That And Other Things. Why Not?" 
   
   
   
 "Madge, Don'T You Know This Was What Grandmother Was Afraid Of, When We 
 Were Learning to Know Mr. Dillwyn?" 
   
   
   
 "What?" Said Madge Defiantly. 
   
   
   
 "That We Would Be Bewitched--Or Dazzled--And Lose Sight Of   Better 
 Things; I Think 'Bewitched' Is The   Word; All These Beautiful Things And 
 This Luxurious Comfort--It Is Bewitching; And So Are The   Fine Manners 
 And The   Cultivation And The   Delightful Talk. I Confess It. I Feel It As 
 Much As You Do; But This Is Just What Dear Grandmother Wanted to 
 Protect Us From." 
   
   
   
 "_What_ Did She Want To Protect Us From?" Repeated madge Vehemently. 
 "Not Persian Carpets, Nor Luxury; We Are Not Likely To Be Tempted by 
 Either Of   Them In shampuashuh." 
   
   
   
 "We Might _Here_." 
   
   
   
 "Be Tempted? To What? I Shall Hardly Be Likely To Go And Buy A 
 Fifteen-Hundred-Dollar Carpet. And It Was _Cheap_ At That, Lois! I Can 
 Live Without It, Besides. I Haven'T Got So Far That I Can'T Stand On 
 The Floor, Without Any Carpet At All, If I Must. You Needn'T Think It." 
   
   
   
 "I Do Not Think It. Only, Do Not Be Tempted to Fancy, Darling, That 
 There Is Any Way Open To You To Get Such Things; That Is All." 
   
   
   
 "Any Way Open To Me? You Mean, I Might Marry A Rich Man Some Day?" 
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 42 (Rules) Pg 149 
 Rejoicing in the   Clear Light Of   Heaven. 
   
   
   
 Lois Pulled her Chair Nearer To The   Fire, And Bent Down, Leaning 
 Towards It; Not For Warmth, For She Was Not In the   Least Cold; But For 
 Company, Or For Counsel. Who Has Not Taken Counsel Of   A Fire? And Lois 
 Was In perplexity Of   Some Sort, And Trying to Think Hard And To Examine 
 Into Herself. She Half Wished she Had Gone To The   Party At Mrs. 
 Burrage'S. And Why Had She Not Gone? She Did Not Want, She Did Not 
 Think It Was Best, To Meet Mr. Dillwyn There. And Why Not, Seeing that 
 She Met Him Constantly Where She Was? Well, _That_ She Could Not Help; 
 This Would Be Voluntary; Put Ting herself In his Way, And In his 
 Sister'S Way. Better Not, Lois Said To Herself. But Why, Better Not? It 
 Would Surely Be A Pleasant Gathering at Mrs. Burrage'S, A Pleasant 
 Party; Her Parties Always Were Pleasant, Mrs. Wishart Said; There Would 
 Be None But The   Best Sort Of   People There, Good Talking and Good Music; 
 Lois Would Have Liked it. What If Mr. Dillwyn Were There Too? Must She 
 Keep Out Of   Sight Of   Him? Why Should She Keep Out Of   Sight Of   Him? Lois 
 Put The   Question Sharply To Her Conscience. And She Found That The 
 Answer, If Given Truly, Would Be That She Fancied mr. Dillwyn Liked her 
 Sister'S Society Better Than Her Own. But What Then? The   Blood Began To 
 Rush Over Lois'S Cheeks And Brow And To Burn In her Pulses. _Then_, It 
 Must Be That She Herself Liked _His_ Society--Liked him--Yes, A Little 
 Too Well; Else What Harm In his Preferring madge? O, Could It Be? Lois 
 Hid Her Face In her Hands For A While, Greatly Disturbed; She Was Very 
 Much Afraid The   Case Was Even So. 
   
   
   
 But Suppose It So; Still, What Of   It? What Did It Signify, Whom Mr. 
 Dillwyn Liked? To Lois He Could Never Be Anything. Only A Pleasant 
 Acquain'Tance. He And She Were In two Different Lines Of   Life, Lines 
 That Never Cross. Her Promise Was Passed to Her Grandmother; She Could 
 Never Marry A Man Who Was Not A Christian. Happily Mr. Dillwyn Did Not 
 Want To Marry Her; No Such Question Was Coming up For Decision. Then 
 What Was It To Her If He Liked madge? Something, Because It Was Not 
 Liking that Would End In anything; It Was Impossible A Man In his 
 Position And Circumstances Should Choose For A Wife One In hers. If He 
 Could Make Such A Choice, It Would Be Madge'S Duty, As Much As It Would 
 Be Her Own, To Refuse Him. Would Madge Refuse? Lois Believed not. 
 Indeed, She Thought No One Could Refuse Him, That Had Not Unconquerable 
 Reasons Of   Conscience; And Madge, She Knew, Did Not Share Those Which 
 Were So Strong In her Own Mind. Ought Madge To Share Them? Was It 
 Indeed an Absolute Command That Justified and Necessitated the   Promise 
 Made To Her Grandmother? Or Was It A Less Stringent Thing, That Might 
 Possibly Be Passed over By One Not So Bound? Lois'S Mind Was In a 
 Turmoil Of   Thoughts Most Unusual, And Most Foreign To Her Nature And 
 Habit; Thoughts Seemed to Go Round In a Whirl. And In the   Midst Of   The 
 Whirl There Would Come Before Her Mind'S Eye, Not Now Tom Caruthers' 
 Face, But The   Vision Of   A Pair Of   Pleasant Grey Eyes At Once Keen And 
 Gentle; Or Of   A Close Head Of   Hair With A White Hand Roving amid The 
 Thick Locks Of   It; Or The   Outlines Of   A Figure Manly And Lithe; Or Some 
 Little Thing done With That Ease Of   Manner Which Was So Winning. 
 Sometimes She Saw Them As In mrs. Wishart'S Drawing-Room, And Sometimes 
 At The   Table In the   Dear Old House In shampuashuh, And Sometimes Under 
 The Drip Of   An Umbrella In a Pouring rain, And Sometimes In the   Old 
 Schoolhouse. Manly And Kind, And Full Of   Intelligence, Filled with 
 Knowledge, Well-Bred, And Noble; So Lois Thought Of   Him. Yet He Was Not 
 A Christian, Therefore No Fit Partner For Madge Or For Any One Else Who 
 Was A Christian. Could That Be The   Absolute Fact? Must It Be? Was Such 
 The Inevitable And Universal Conclusion? On What Did The   Logic Of   It 
 Rest? Some Words In the   Bible Bore The   Brunt Of   It, She Knew; Lois Had 
 Read Them And Talked them Over With Her Grandmother; And Now An 
 Irresistible Desire Took Possession Of   Her To Read Them Again, And More 
 Critically. She Jumped up And Ran Up-Stairs For Her Bible. 
   
   
   
 The Fire Was Down In her Own Room; The   Gas Was Not Lit; So She Went 
 Back To The   Bright Drawing-Room, Which To-Night She Had All To Herself. 
 
 
 
 Chapter 42 (Rules) Pg 150 
 She Laid Her Book On The   Table And Opened it, And Then Was Suddenly 
 Checked by The   Question--What Did All This Matter To Her, That She 
 Should Be So Fiercely Eager About It? Dismay Struck Her Anew. What Was 
 Any Un-Christian Man To Her, That Her Heart Should Beat So At 
 Considering possible Relations Between Them? No Such Relations Were 
 Desired by Any Such Person; What Ailed lois Even To Take Up The 
 Subject? If Mr. Dillwyn Liked either Of   The   Sisters Particularly, It 
 Was Madge. Probably His Liking, If It Existed, Was No More Than Tom 
 Caruthers', Of   Which Lois Thought With Great Scorn. Still, She Argued, 
 Did It Not Concern Her To Know With Certain'Ty What Madge Ought To Do, 
 In The   Event Of   Mr. Dillwyn Being not Precisely Like Tom Caruthers? 
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 43 (About Work) Pg 151 
   
 The Sound Of   The   Opening door Made Her Start Up. She Would Not Have 
 Even A Servant Surprise Her So; Kneeling on The   Floor With Her Face 
 Buried in her Hands On The   Table. She Started up Hurriedly; And Then 
 Was Confounded to See Entering--Mr. Dillwyn Himself. She Had Heard No 
 Ring of   The   Door-Bell; That Must Have Been When She Was Up-Stairs 
 Getting her Bible. Lois Found Her Feet, In the   Midst Of   A Terrible 
 Confusion Of   Thoughts; But The   Very Inward Confusion Admonished her To 
 Be Outwardly Calm. She Was Not A Woman Of   The   World, And She Had Not 
 Had Very Much Experience In the   Difficult Art Of   Hiding her Feelings, 
 Or _Acting_ In any Way; Nevertheless She Was A True Woman, And Woman'S 
 Blessed--Or Cursed?--Instinct Of   Self-Command Came To Her Aid. She Met 
 Mr. Dillwyn With A Face And Manner Perfectly Composed; She Knew She 
 Did; And Cried to Herself Privately Some Thing very Like A Sea 
 Captain'S Order To His Helmsman--"Steady! Keep Her So." Mr. Dillwyn Saw 
 That Her Face Was Flushed; But He Saw, Too, That He Had Disturbed her 
 And Startled her; That Must Be The   Reason. She Looked so Far From Being 
 Delighted, That He Could Draw No Other Conclusion. So They Shook Hands. 
 She Thought He Did Not Look Delighted either. Of   Course, She Thought, 
 Madge Was Not There. And Mr. Dillwyn, Whatever His Mood When He Came, 
 Recognized immediately The   Decided reserve And Coolness Of   Lois'S 
 Manner, And, To Use Another Nautical Phrase, Laid His Course 
 Accordingly. 
   
   
   
 "How Do You Do, This Evening?" 
   
   
   
 "I Think, Quite Well. There Is Nobody At Home But Me, Mr. Dillwyn." 
   
   
   
 "So I Have Been Told. But It Is A Great Deal Pleasanter Here, Even With 
 Only One-Third Of   The   Family, Than It Is In my Solitary Rooms At The 
 Hotel." 
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 43 (About Work) Pg 152 
   
   
 At That Lois Sat Down, And So Did He. She Could Not Seem To Bid Him Go 
 Away. However, She Said-- 
   
   
   
 "Mrs. Wishart Has Taken Madge To Your Sister'S. It Is The   Night Of   Her 
 Music Party." 
   
   
   
 "Why Did Not Mrs. Wishart Take You?" 
   
   
   
 "I Thought--It Was Better For Me To Stay At Home," Lois Answered, With 
 A Little Hesitation. 
   
   
   
 "You Are Not Afraid Of   An Evening alone!" 
   
   
   
 "No, Indeed; How Could I Be? Indeed, I Think In new York It Is Rather A 
 Luxury." 
   
   
   
 Then She Wished she Had Not Said That. Would He Think She Meant To 
 Intimate That He Was Depriving her Of   A Luxury? Lois Was Annoyed at 
 Herself; And Hurried on To Say Something else, Which She Did Not Intend 
 Should Be So Much In the   Same Line As It Proved. Indeed, She Was 
 Shocked the   Moment She Had Spoken. 
   
   
   
 "Don'T You Go To Your Sister'S Music Parties, Mr. Dillwyn?" 
   
   
   
 "Not Universally." 
   
   
   
 "I Thought You Were So Fond Of   Music"--Lois Said Apologetically. 
   
   
   
 "Yes," He Said, Smiling. "That Keeps Me Away." 
   
   
   
 "I Thought,"--Said Lois,--"I Thought They Said The   Music Was So Good?" 
   
   
   
 "I Have No Doubt They Say It. And They Mean It Honestly." 
   
   
   
 "And It Is Not?" 
   
   
   
 "I Find It Quite Too Severe A Tax On My Powers Of   Simulation And 
 Dissimulation. Those Are Powers You Never Call In play?" He Added, With 
 A Most Pleasant Smile And Glance At Her. 
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 43 (About Work) Pg 153 
   
 "Simulation And Dissimulation?" Repeated lois, Who Had By No Means Got 
 Her Usual Balance Of   Mind Or Manner Yet. "Are Those Powers Which Ought 
 To Be Called into Play?" 
   
   
   
 "What Are You Going to Do?" 
   
   
   
 "When?" 
   
   
   
 "When, For Instance, You Are In the   Mood For A Grand Theme Of   Handel, 
 And Somebody Gives You A Sentimental Bit Of   Rossini. Or When 
 Mendelssohn Is Played as If 'Songs Without Words' Were Songs Without 
 Meaning. Or When A Singer Simply Displays To You A Voice, And Leaves 
 Music Out Of   The   Question Altogether." 
   
   
   
 "That Is Hard!" Said Lois. 
   
   
   
 "What Is One To Do Then?" 
   
   
   
 "It Is Hard," Lois Said Again. "But I Suppose One Ought Always To Be 
 True." 
   
   
   
 "If I Am True, I Must Say What I Think." 
   
   
   
 "Yes. If You Speak At All." 
   
   
   
 "What Will _They_ Think Then?" 
   
   
   
 "Yes," Said Lois. "But, After All, That Is Not The   First Question." 
   
   
   
 "What Is The   First Question?" 
   
   
   
 "I Think--To Do Right." 
   
   
   
 "But What _Is_ Right? What Will People Think Of   Me, If I Tell Them 
 Their Playing is Abominable?" 
   
   
   
 "You Need not Say It Just With Those Words," Said Lois. "And Perhaps, 
 If Anybody Told Them The   Truth, They Would Do Better. At Any Rate, What 
 They Think Is Not The   Question, Mr. Dillwyn." 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 43 (About Work) Pg 154 
 "What Is The   Question?" He Asked, Smiling. 
   
   
   
 "What The   Lord Will Think." 
   
   
   
 "Miss Lois, Do You Never Use Dissimulation?" 
   
   
   
 Lois Could Not Help Colouring, A Little Distressed. 
   
   
   
 "I Try Not," She Answered. "I Dare Say I Do, Sometimes. I Dare Not Say 
 I Do Not. It Is Very Difficult For A Woman To Help It." 
   
   
   
 "More Difficult For A Woman Than For A Man?" 
   
   
   
 "I Do Not Know. I Suppose It Is." 
   
   
   
 "Why Should That Be?" 
   
   
   
 "I Do Not Know--Unless Because She Is The   Weaker, And It May Be Part Of 
 The Defensive Armour Of   A Weak Animal." 
   
   
   
 Mr. Dillwyn Laughed a Little. 
   
   
   
 "But That Is _Dis_Simulation," Said Lois. "One Is Not Bound Always To 
 Say All One Thinks; Only Never To Say What One Does Not Think." 
   
   
   
 "You Would Always Give A True Answer To A Question?" 
   
   
   
 "I Would Try." 
   
   
   
 "I Believe It. And Now, Miss Lois, In that Trust, I Am Going to Ask You 
 A Question. Do You Recollect A Certain Walk In the   Rain?" 
   
   
   
 "Certainly!" She Said, Looking at Him With Some Anxiety. 
   
   
   
 "And The   Conversation We Held Under The   Umbrella, Without Simulation Or 
 Dissimulation?" 
   
   
   
 "Yes." 
 
 
 
 Chapter 43 (About Work) Pg 155 
   
 "You Tacitly--Perhaps More Than Tacitly--Blamed me For Having spent So 
 Much Of   My Life In idleness; That Is Uselessly, To All But Myself." 
   
   
   
 "Did I?" 
   
   
   
 "You Did. And I Have Thought About It Since. And I Quite Agree With You 
 That To Be Idle Is To Be Neither Wise Nor Dignified. But Here Rises A 
 Difficulty. I Think I Would Like To Be Of   Some Use In the   World, If I 
 Could. But I Do Not Know What To Set About." 
   
   
   
 Lois Waited, With Silent Attention. 
   
   
   
 "My Question Is This: How Is A Man To Find His Work In the   World?" 
   
   
   
 Lois'S Eyes, Which Had Been On His Face, Went Away To The   Fire. His, 
 Which Had Been On The   Ground, Rose To Her Face. 
   
   
   
 "I Am In a Fog," He Said 
   
   
   
 "I Believe Every One Has His Work," Lois Remarked. 
   
   
   
 "I Think You Said So." 
   
   
   
 "The Bible Says So, At Any Rate." 
   
   
   
 "_Then_ How Is A Man To Find His Work?" Philip Asked, Half Smiling; At 
 The Same Time He Drew Up His Chair A Little Nearer The   Fire, And Began 
 To Put The   Same In order. Evidently He Was Not Going away Immediately, 
 And Had A Mind To Talk Out The   Subject. But Why With Her? And Was He 
 Not Going to His Sister'S?-- 
   
   
   
 "If Each One Has, Not Only His Work But His Peculiar Work, It Must Be A 
 Very Important Matter To Make Sure He Has Found It. A Wheel In a 
 Machine Can Do Its Own Work, But It Cannot Take The   Part Of   Another 
 Wheel. And Your Words Suppose An Exact Adjustment Of   Parts And Powers." 
   
   
   
 "The Bible Words," Said Lois. 
   
   
   
 "Yes. Well, To My Question. I Do Not Know What I Ought To Do, Miss 
 Lois. I Do Not See The   Work To My Hand. How Am I Ever To Be Any Wiser?" 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 43 (About Work) Pg 156 
 "I Am The   Last Person You Should Ask. And Besides,--I Do Not Think 
 Anybody Knows Enough To Set Another His Appointed task." 
   
   
   
 "How Is He To Find It, Then?" 
   
   
   
 "He Must Ask The   One Who Does Know." 
   
   
   
 "Ask?--_Pray_, You Mean?" 
   
   
   
 "Yes, Pray. He Must Ask To Be Shown What He Ought To Do, And How To Do 
 It. God Knows What Place He Is Meant To Fill In the   World." 
   
   
   
 "And If He Asks, Will He Be Told?" 
   
   
   
 "Certainly. That Is The   Promise. 'If Any Of   You Lack Wisdom, Let Him 
 Ask Of   God, That Giveth To All Men Liberally, And Upbraideth Not; _And 
 It Shall Be Given Him_.'" 
   
   
   
 Lois'S Eyes Came Over To Her Questioner At The   Last Words, As It Were, 
 Setting a Seal To Them. 
   
   
   
 "How Will He Get The   Answer? Suppose, For Instance, I Want Wisdom; And 
 I Kneel Down And Pray That I May Know My Work. I Rise From My 
 Prayer,--There Is No Voice, Nor Writing, Nor Visible Sign; How Am I The 
 Wiser?" 
   
   
   
 "You Think It Will _Not_ Be Given Him?" Lois Said, With A Faint Smile. 
   
   
   
 "I Do Not Say That. I Dare Not. But How?" 
   
   
   
 "You Must Not Think That, Or The   Asking will Be Vain. You Must Believe 
 The Lord'S Promise." 
   
   
   
 Lois Was Warming out Of   Her Reserve, And Possibly Mr. Dillwyn Had A 
 Purpose That She Should; Though I Think He Was Quite Earnest With His 
 Question. But Certainly He Was Watching her, As Well As Listening to 
 Her. 
   
   
   
 "Go On," He Said. "How Will The   Answer Come To Me?" 
   
   
   
 "There Is Another Condition, Too. You Must Be Quite Willing to Hear The 
 Answer." 
 
 
 
 Chapter 43 (About Work) Pg 157 
   
   
 "Why?" 
   
   
   
 "Else You Will Be Likely To Miss It. You Know, Mr. Dillwyn,--You Do 
 _Not_ Know Much About Housekeeping things,--But I Suppose You 
 Understand, That If You Want To Weigh Anything truly, Your Balance Must 
 Hang Even." 
   
   
   
 He Smiled. 
   
   
   
 "Well, Then,--Miss Lois?" 
   
   
   
 "The Answer? It Comes Different Ways. But It Is Sure To Come. I Think 
 One Way Is This,--You See Distinctly One Thing you Ought To Do; It Is 
 Not Life-Work, But It Is One Thing. That Is Enough For One Step. You Do 
 That; And Then You Find That That One Step Has Brought You Where You 
 Can See A Little Further, And Another Step Is Clear. That Will Do," 
 Lois Concluded, Smiling; "Step By Step, You Will Get Where You Want To 
 Be." 
   
   
   
 Mr. Dillwyn Smiled too, Thoughtfully, As It Were, To Himself. 
   
   
   
 "Was It _So_ That You Went To Teach School At That Unlucky Place?--What 
 Do You Call It?" 
   
   
   
 "It Was Not Unlucky. Esterbrooke. Yes, I Think I Went So." 
   
   
   
 "Was Not That A Mistake?" 
   
   
   
 "No, I Think Not." 
   
   
   
 "But Your Work There Was Broken Up?" 
   
   
   
 "O, But I Expect To Go Back Again." 
   
   
   
 "Back! There? It Is Too Unhealthy." 
   
   
   
 "It Will Not Be Unhealthy, When The   Railroad Is Finished." 
   
   
   
 "I Am Afraid It Will, For Some Time. And It Is Too Rough A Place For 
 You." 
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 43 (About Work) Pg 158 
   
   
 "That Is Why They Want Me The   More." 
   
   
   
 "Miss Lois, You Are Not Strong Enough." 
   
   
   
 "I Am Very Strong!" She Answered, With A Delicious Smile. 
   
   
   
 "But There Is Such A Thing--Don'T You Think So?--As Fitness Of   Means To 
 Ends. You Would Not Take A Silver Spade To Break Ground With?" 
   
   
   
 "I Am Not At All A Silver Spade," Said Lois. "But If I Were; Suppose I 
 Had No Other?" 
   
   
   
 "Then Surely The   Breaking ground Must Be Left To A Different 
 Instrument." 
   
   
   
 "That Won'T Do," Said Lois, Shaking her Head. "The Instrument Cannot 
 Choose, You Know, Where It Will Be Employed. It Does Not Know Enough 
 For That." 
   
   
   
 "But It Made You Ill, That Work." 
   
   
   
 "I Am Recovering fast." 
   
   
   
 "You Came To A Good Place For Recovering," Said Dillwyn, Glancing round 
 The Room, And Willing, Perhaps, To Leave The   Subject. 
   
   
   
 "Almost Too Good," Said Lois. "It Spoils One. You Cannot Imagine The 
 Contrast Between What I Came From--And _This_. I Have Been Like One In 
 Dreamland. And There Comes Over Me Now And Then A Strange Feeling of 
 The Inequality Of   Things; Almost A Sense Of   Wrong; The   Way I Am Cared 
 For Is So Very Different From The   Very Best And Utmost That Could Be 
 Done For The   Poor People At Esterbrooke. Think Of   My Soups And Creams 
 And Ices And Oranges And Grapes!--And There, Very Often I Could Not Get 
 A Bit Of   Fresh Beef To Make Beef-Tea; And What Could I Do Without 
 Beef-Tea? And What Would I Not Have Given For An Orange Sometimes! I Do 
 Not Mean, For Myself. I Could Get Hardly Anything the   Sick People 
 Really Wanted. And Here--It Is Like Rain From The   Clouds." 
   
   
   
 "Where Does The   'Sense Of   Wrong' Come In?" 
   
   
   
 "It Seems As If Things _Need_ Not Be So Unequal." 
   
   
   
 "And What Does Your Silver Spade Expect To Do There?" 
 
 
 
 Chapter 43 (About Work) Pg 159 
   
   
 "Don'T Say That! I Have No Silver Spade. But Just So Far As I Could 
 Help To Introduce Better Ways And A Knowledge Of   Better Things, The 
 Inequality Would Be Made Up--Or On The   Way To Be Made Up." 
   
   
   
 "What Refining measures Are You Thinking of?--Beside Your Own Presence 
 And Example." 
   
   
   
 "I Was Certainly Not Thinking of   _That_. Why, Mr. Dillwyn, Knowledge 
 Itself Is Refining; And Then, So Is Comfort; And I Could Help Them To 
 More Comfort, In their Houses, And In their Meals. I Began To Teach 
 Them Singing, Which Has A Great Effect; And I Carried all The   Pictures 
 I Had With Me. Most Of   All, Though, To Bring them To A Knowledge Of 
 Bible Truth Is The   Principal Thing and The   Surest Way. The   Rest Is 
 Really In order To That." 
   
   
   
 "Wasn'T It Very Hard Work?" 
   
   
   
 "No," Said Lois. "Some Things Were Hard; But Not The   Work." 
   
   
   
 "Because You Like It." 
   
   
   
 "Yes. O, Mr. Dillwyn, There Is Nothing pleasanter Than To Do One'S 
 Work, If It Is Work One Is Sure God Has Given." 
   
   
   
 "That Must Be Because You Love Him," Said Philip Gravely. "Yet I 
 Understand, That In the   Universal Adjustment Of   Things, The   Instrument 
 And Its Proper Work Must Agree." He Was Silent A Minute, And Lois Did 
 Not Break The   Pause. If He Would Think, Let Him Think, Was Her Meaning. 
 Then He Began Again. 
   
   
   
 "There Are Different Ways. What Would You Think Of   A Man Who Spent His 
 Whole Life In painting?" 
   
   
   
 "I Should Not Think That Could Be Anybody'S Proper Life-Work." 
   
   
   
 "I Think It Was Truly His, And He Served god In it." 
   
   
   
 "Who Was He?" 
   
   
   
 "A Catholic Monk, In the   Fifteenth Century." 
   
   
   
 "What Did He Paint? What Was His Name?" 
 
 
 
 Chapter 43 (About Work) Pg 160 
   
   
 "His Name Was Fra Angelico--By Reason Of   The   Angelic Character Which 
 Belonged to Him And To His Paintings; Otherwise Fra Giovanni; He Was A 
 Monk In a Dominican Cloister. He Entered the   Convent When He Was Twenty 
 Years Old; And From That Time, Till He Was Sixty-Eight, He Served god 
 And His Generation By Painting." 
   
   
   
 Lois Looked somewhat Incredulous. Mr. Dillwyn Here Took From One Of   His 
 Pockets A Small Case, Opened it And Put It In her Hands. It Was An 
 Excellent Copy Of   A Bit Of   Fra Angelico'S Work. 
   
   
   
 "That," He Said As He Gave It Her, "Is The   Head Of   One Of   Fra 
 Angelico'S Angels, From A Group In a Large Picture. I Had This Copy 
 Made For Myself Some Years Ago--At A Time When I Only Dimly Felt What 
 Now I Am Beginning to Understand." 
   
   
   
 Lois Scarce Heard What He Said. From The   Time She Received the   Picture 
 In Her Hands She Lost All Thought Of   Everything else. The   Unearthly 
 Beauty And Purity, The   Heavenly Devotion And Joy, Seized her Heart As 
 With A Spell. The   Delicate Lines Of   The   Face, The   Sweet Colouring, The 
 Finished, Perfect Handling, Were Most Admirable; But It Was The 
 Marvellous Spiritual Love And Purity Which So Took Possession Of   Lois. 
 Her Eyes Filled and Her Cheeks Flushed. It Was, So Far As Painting 
 Could Give It, The   Truth Of   Heaven; And That Goes To The   Heart Of   The 
 Human Creature Who Perceives It. Mr. Dillwyn Was Watching her, 
 Meanwhile, And Could Look Safely, Secure That Lois Was In no Danger Of 
 Finding it Out; And While She, Very Likely, Was Thinking of   The 
 Distance Between That Angel Face And Her Own, Philip, On The   Other 
 Hand, Was Following the   Line Of   His Sister'S Thought, And Tracing the 
 Fancied likeness. Like One Of   Fra Angelico'S Angels! Yes, There Was The 
 Same Sort Of   Grave Purity, Of   Unworldly If Not Unearthly Spiritual 
 Beauty. Truly The   Rapt Joy Was Not There, Nor The   Unshadowed triumph; 
 But Love,--And Innocence,--And Humility,--And Truth; And Not A Stain Of 
 The World Upon It. Lois Said Not One Word, But Looked and Looked, Till 
 At Last She Tendered the   Picture Back To Its Owner. 
   
   
   
 "Perhaps You Would Like To Keep It," Said He, "And Show It To Your 
 Sister." 
   
   
   
 He Brought It To Have Madge See It! Thought Lois. Aloud-- 
   
   
   
 "No--She Would Enjoy It A Great Deal More If You Showed it To 
 Her;--Then You Could Tell Her About It." 
   
   
   
 "I Think You Could Explain It Better." 
   
   
   
 As He Made No Motion To Take Back The   Picture, Lois Drew In her Hand 
 Again And Took A Further View. How Beautiful Was The   Fair, Bright, 
 Rapt, Blissful Face Of   The   Angel!--As If, Indeed, He Were Looking at 
 Heaven'S Glories. 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 43 (About Work) Pg 161 
 "Did He--Did The   Painter--Always Paint Like This?" 
   
   
   
 "Always, I Believe. He Improved in his Manner As He Went On; He Painted 
 Better And Better; But From Youth To Age He Was Incessantly Doing the 
 One Thing, Serving god With His Pencil. He Never Painted for Money; 
 That Is, Not For Himself; The   Money Went Into The   Church'S Treasury. He 
 Did Not Work For Fame; Much Of   His Best Work Is Upon The   Walls Of   The 
 Monks' Cells, Where Few Would See It. He Would Not Receive Office. He 
 Lived upon The   Old And New Testaments, And Prayer; And The   One Business 
 Of His Life Was To Show Forth To The   World What He Believed, In such 
 Beautiful Wise That They Might Be Won To Believe It Too." 
   
   
   
 "That Is Exactly The   Work We Have To Do,--Everybody," Said Lois, 
 Lifting her Eyes With A Bright Light In them. "I Mean, Everybody That 
 Is A Christian. That Is It;--To Show Forth Christ, And In such Wise 
 That Men May See And Believe In him Too. That Is The   Word In 
 Philippians--'Shining as Lights In the   World, Holding forth The   Word Of 
 Life.' I Did Not Know It Was Possible To Do It In painting--But I See 
 It Is. O, Thank You For Showing me This!--It Has Done Me Good." 
   
   
   
 Her Eyes Were Glistening as She Gave Him The   Picture Again. Philip Put 
 It In security, In silence, And Rose Up. 
   
   
   
 "Well," Said He, "Now I Will Go And Hear Somebody Play The   'Carnival Of 
 Venice,' As If It Were All Rattle And No Fun." 
   
   
   
 "Is That The   Way They Play It?" 
   
   
   
 "It Is The   Way Some People Play It. Good Night." 
   
   
   
 The Door Closed after Him, And Lois Sat Down Alone Before The   Fire 
 Again. 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 44 (Choosing a Wife) Pg 162 
 She Did Not Open Her Bible To Go On With The   Investigation Mr. Dillwyn 
 Had Broken Off. Now That He Had Just Been With Her In proper Person, An 
 
 
 
 Chapter 44 (Choosing a Wife) Pg 163 
 Instinct Of   Scared modesty Fled from The   Question Whether Or No He Were 
 A Man Whom A Christian Woman Might Marry. What Was It To Her? Lois Said 
 To Herself; What Did It Concern Her, Whether Such A Marriage Were 
 Permissible Or No? Such A Question Would Never Come To Her For 
 Decision. To Madge, Perhaps? But Now The   Other Question Did Ask For 
 Consideration;--Why She Winced at The   Idea That It Might Come To Madge? 
 Madge Did Not Share Her Sister'S Scruple; Madge Had Not Made The 
 Promise Lois Had Made; If Mr. Dillwyn Asked her, She Would Accept Him, 
 Lois Had Little Doubt. Perhaps He Would Ask Her; And Why, Why Did Lois 
 Wish He Would Not? For She Perceived that The   Idea Gave Her Pain. Why 
 Should It Give Her Pain? For Herself, The   Thing was A Fixed fact; 
 Whatever The   Bible Said--And She Knew Pretty Well What It Said--For 
 _Her_, Such A Marriage Was An Impossibility. And Why Should She Think 
 About It At All? Nobody Else Was Thinking about It. Fra Angelico'S 
 Angel Came Back To Her Mind; The   Clear, Unshadowed eyes, The   Pure, Glad 
 Face, The   Separateness From All Earth'S Passions Or Pleasures, The 
 Lofty Exaltation Above Them. So Ought She To Be. And Then, While This 
 Thought Was Warmest, Came, Shutting it Out, The   Image Of   Mr. Dillwyn At 
 The Music Party; What He Was Doing there, How He Would Look And Speak, 
 How Madge Would Enjoy His Attentions, And Everything; And Lois Suddenly 
 Felt As If She Herself Were Very Much Alone. Not Merely Alone Now, 
 To-Night; She Had Chosen This, And Liked it; (Did She Like It?)--Not 
 Now, But All Through Her Life. It Suddenly Seemed to Lois As If She 
 Were Henceforth To Be Always Alone. Madge Would No Doubt 
 Marry--Somebody; And There Was No Home, And Nobody To Make Home For 
 Lois. She Had Never Thought Of   It Before, But Now She Seemed to See It 
 All Quite Clearly. Mrs. Barclay'S Work Had Been, To Separate Her, In a 
 Certain Way, From Her Family And Her Surroundings. They Fitted together 
 No Longer. Lois Knew What They Did Not Know; She Had Tastes Which They 
 Did Not Share, But Which Now Were Become Part Of   Her Being; The   Society 
 In Which She Had Moved all Her Life Till Two Years, Or Three Years, 
 Ago, Could No Longer Content Her. It Was Not Inanimate Nature, Her 
 Garden, Her Spade And Her Wheelbarrow, That Seemed distasteful; Lois 
 Could Have Gone Into That Work Again With All Her Heart, And Thought It 
 No Hardship; It Was The   Mental Level At Which The   People Lived; The 
 Social Level, In houses, Tables, Dress, And Amusements, And Manner; The 
 Aesthetic Level Of   Beauty, And Grace, And Fitness, Or At Least The 
 Perception Of   Them. Lois Pondered and Revolved this All Till She Began 
 To Grow Rather Dreary. Think Of   The   Esterbrooke School, And Of   Being 
 Alone There! Rough, Rude, Coarse Boys And Girls; Untaught, Untamed, 
 Ungovernable, Except By An Uncommon Exertion Of   Wisdom And Will; Long 
 Days Of   Hard Labour, Nights Of   Common Food And Sleep, With No Delicate 
 Arrangements For Either, And Social Refreshment Utterly Out Of   The 
 Question. And Madge Away; Married, Perhaps, And Travelling in europe, 
 And Seeing fra Angelico'S Paintings. Then The   Angel'S Face Recurred to 
 Lois, And She Pulled herself Up. The   Angel'S Face And The   Painter'S 
 History Both Confronted her. On One Hand, The   Seraphic Purity And Joy 
 Of A Creature Who Knew No Will But God'S Will; On The   Other Hand, The 
 Quiet, Patient Life, Which Had Borne Such Fruits. Four Hundred years 
 Ago, Fra Angelico Painted; And Ever Since His Work Had Been Bearing 
 Witness To God'S Truth And Salvation; Was Even At That Minute Teaching 
 And Admonishing herself. What Did It Signify Just _How_ Her Own Work 
 Should Be Done, If Only It Were Like Work? What Matter Whether Rough Or 
 Smooth, Alone Or In company? Where The   Service Is To Be Done, There The 
 Master Puts His Servant; What The   Service Is, He Knows; For The 
 Servant, All That He Has To Take Care Of   Is, That Step By Step He 
 Follow Where He Is Led, And Everywhere, And By All Means In his Power, 
 That He Show Forth Christ To Men. Then Something like That Angel'S 
 Security Would Be With Him All The   Way, And Something like That Angel'S 
 Joy Be At The   End Of   It. The   Little Picture Had Helped and Comforted 
 Lois Amazingly, And She Went To Bed with A Heart Humbled and Almost 
 Contented. 
   
   
   
 She Went, However, In good Time, Before Madge Could Return Home; She 
 Did Not Want To Hear The   Outflow Of   Description And Expatiation Which 
 Might Be Expected. And Madge Indeed found Her So Seemingly Sleepy, That 
 She Was Forced to Give Up Talking and Come To Bed too. But All Lois Had 
 Gained was A Respite. The   Next Morning, As Soon As They Were Awake, 
 Madge Began. 
 
 
 
 Chapter 44 (Choosing a Wife) Pg 164 
   
   
 "Lois, We Had A Grand Time Last Night! You Were So Stupidly Asleep When 
 I Came Home, I Couldn'T Tell You. We Had A Beautiful Time! O Lois, Mrs. 
 Burrage'S House Is Just Magnificent!" 
   
   
   
 "I Suppose So." 
   
   
   
 "The Floors Are All Laid In patterns Of   Different Coloured woods--A 
 Sort Of   Mosaic--" 
   
   
   
 "Parquetry." 
   
   
   
 "What?--I Call It Mosaic, With Centre-Pieces And Borders,--O, Elegant! 
 And They Are Smooth And Polished; And Then Carpets And Rugs Of   All 
 Sorts Are Laid About; And It'S Most Beautiful. She Has Got One Of   Those 
 Persian Carpets She Was Telling about, Lois." 
   
   
   
 "I Dare Say." 
   
   
   
 "And The   Walls Are All Great Mirrors, Or Else There Is The   Richest Sort 
 Of Drapery--Curtains, Or Hangings; And The   Prettiest Painted walls. And 
 O, Lois, The   Flowers!--" 
   
   
   
 "Where Were They?" 
   
   
   
 "Everywhere! On Tables, And Little Shelves On The   Wall--" 
   
   
   
 "Brackets." 
   
   
   
 "O, Well!--Shelves They _Are_, Call Them What You Like; And Stands Of 
 Plants And Pots Of   Plants--The Whole Place Was Sweet With The   Smell, 
 And Green With The   Leaves, And Brilliant With The   Flowers--" 
   
   
   
 "Seems To Have Been Brilliant Generally." 
   
   
   
 "So It Was, Just _Brilliant_, With All That, And With The   Lights, And 
 With The   People." 
   
   
   
 "Were The   People Brilliant Too?" 
   
   
   
 "And The   Playing." 
 
 
 
 Chapter 44 (Choosing a Wife) Pg 165 
   
 "O,--The Playing!" 
   
   
   
 "Everybody Said So. It Wasn'T Like Mrs. Barclay'S Playing." 
   
   
   
 "What Was It Like?" 
   
   
   
 "It Looked like Very Hard Work, To Me. My Dear, I Saw The   Drops Of 
 Sweat Standing on One Man'S Forehead;--He Had Been Playing a Pretty 
 Long Piece," Madge Added, By Way Of   Accounting for Things. "I Never Saw 
 Anything like It, In all My Life!" 
   
   
   
 "Like What?--Sweat On A Man'S Forehead?" 
   
   
   
 "Like The   Playing. Don'T Be Ridiculous." 
   
   
   
 "It Is Not I," Said Lois, Who Meanwhile Had Risenn And Was Getting 
 Dressed. Madge Was Doing the   Same, Talking all The   While. "So The 
 Playing was Something to Be _Seen_. What Was The   Singing?" 
   
   
   
 Madge Stood Still, Comb In hand. "I Don'T Know!" She Said Gravely. Lois 
 Could Not Help Laughing. 
   
   
   
 "Well, I Don'T," Madge Went On. "It Was So Queer, Some Of   It, I Did Not 
 Know Which Way To Look. Some Of   It Was Regular Yelling, Lois; And If 
 People Are Going to Yell, I'D Rather Have It Out-Of-Doors. But One 
 Man--I Think He Thought He Was Doing it Remarkably Well--The Goings Up 
 And Down Of   His Voice--" 
   
   
   
 "Cadences--" 
   
   
   
 "Well, The   Cadences If You Choose; They Made Me Think Of   Nothing but 
 The Tones Of   The   Lions And Other Beasts In the   Menagerie. Don'T You 
 Know How They Roar Up And Down? First Softly And Then Loud? I Had 
 Everything in the   World To Do Not To Laugh Out Downright. He Was 
 Singing something meant To Be Very Pathetic; And It Was Absolutely 
 Killing." 
   
   
   
 "It Was Not All Like That, I Suppose?" 
   
   
   
 "No. There Was Some I Liked. But Nothing one-Half So Good As Your 
 Singing a Hymn, Lois. I Wish You Could Have Been There To Give Them 
 One. Only You Could Not Sing a Hymn In such A Place." 
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 44 (Choosing a Wife) Pg 166 
   
 "Why Not?" 
   
   
   
 "Why, Because! It Would Be Out Of   Place." 
   
   
   
 "I Would Not Go Anywhere Where A Hymn Would Be Out Of   Place." 
   
   
   
 "That'S Nonsense. But O, How The   People Were Dressed, Lois! Brilliant! 
 O You May Well Say So. It Took Away My Breath At First" 
   
   
   
 "You Got It Again, I Hope?" 
   
   
   
 "Yes. But O, Lois, It _Is_ Nice To Have Plenty Of   Money." 
   
   
   
 "Well, Yes. And It Is Nice _Not_ To Have It--If The   Lord Makes It So." 
   
   
   
 "Makes _What_ So? You Are Very Unsympathetic This Morning, Lois! But If 
 You Had Only Been There. O Lois, There Were One Or Two Fur Rugs--Fur 
 Skins For Rugs,--The Most Beautiful Things I Ever Saw. One Was A 
 Leopard'S Skin, With Its Beautiful Spots; The   Other Was White And Thick 
 And Fluffy--I Couldn'T Find Out What It Was." 
   
   
   
 "Bear, Maybe." 
   
   
   
 "Bear! O Lois--Those Two Skins Finished me! I Kept My Head For A While, 
 With All The   Mosaic Floors And Rich Hangings And Flowers And 
 Dresses,--But Those Two Skins Took Away The   Little Sense I Had Left. 
 They Looked so Magnificent! So Luxurious." 
   
   
   
 "They Are Luxurious, No Doubt." 
   
   
   
 "Lois, I Don'T See Why Some People Should Have So Much, And Others So 
 Little." 
   
   
   
 "The Same Sort Of   Question That Puzzled david Once." 
   
   
   
 "Why Should Mrs. Burrage Have All That, And You And I Have Only Yellow 
 Painted floors And Rag Carpets?" 
   
   
   
 "I Don'T Want 'All That.'" 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 44 (Choosing a Wife) Pg 167 
 "Don'T You?" 
   
   
   
 "No." 
   
   
   
 "I Do." 
   
   
   
 "Madge, Those Things Do Not Make People Happy." 
   
   
   
 "It'S All Very Well To Say So, Lois. I Should Like Just To Try Once." 
   
   
   
 "How Do You Like Mrs. Burrage?" 
   
   
   
 Madge Hesitated a Trifle. 
   
   
   
 "She Is Pleasant,--Pretty, And Clever, And Lively; She Went Flying 
 About Among The   People Like A Butterfly, Stopping a Minute Here And A 
 Minute There, But I Guess It Was Not To Get Honey But To Give It. She 
 Was A Little Honeyfied to Me, But Not Much. I Don'T--Think"--(Slowly) 
 "She Liked to See Her Brother Making much Of   Me." 
   
   
   
 Lois Was Silent. 
   
   
   
 "He Was There; I Didn'T Tell You. He Came A Little Late. He Said He Had 
 Been Here, And As He Didn'T Find Us He Came On To His Sister'S." 
   
   
   
 "He Was Here A Little While." 
   
   
   
 "So He Said. But He Was So Good, Lois! He Was _Very_ Good. He Talked to 
 Me, And Told Me About Things, And Took Care Of   Me, And Gave Me Supper. 
 I Tell You, I Thought Madam His Sister Looked a Little Askance At Him 
 Once Or Twice. I _Know_ She Tried to Get Him Away." 
   
   
   
 Lois Again Made No Answer. 
   
   
   
 "Why Should She, Lois?" 
   
   
   
 "Maybe You Were Mistaken." 
   
   
   
 "I Don'T Think I Was Mistaken. But Why Should She, Lois?" 
 
 
 
 Chapter 44 (Choosing a Wife) Pg 168 
   
 "Madge, Dear, You Know What I Told You." 
   
   
   
 "About What?" 
   
   
   
 "About That; People'S Feelings. You And I Do Not Belong To This Gay, 
 Rich World; We Are Not Rich, And We Are Not Fashionable, And We Do Not 
 Live As They Live, In any Way; And They Do Not Want Us; Why Should 
 They?" 
   
   
   
 "We Should Not Hurt Them!" Said Madge Indignantly. 
   
   
   
 "Nor Be Of   Any Use Or Pleasure To Them." 
   
   
   
 "There Isn'T A Girl Among Them All To Compare With You, As Far As Looks 
 Go." 
   
   
   
 "I Am Afraid That Will Not Help The   Matter," Said Lois, Smiling; But 
 Then She Added with Earnest And Almost Anxious Eagerness, 
   
   
   
 "Madge, Dear, Don'T Think About It! Happiness Is Not There; And What 
 God Gives Us Is Best. Best For You And Best For Me. Don'T You Wish For 
 Riches!--Or For Anything we Haven'T Got. What We Have To Do, Is To Live 
 So As To Show Forth Christ And His Truth Before Men." 
   
   
   
 "Very Few Do That," Said Madge Shortly. 
   
   
   
 "Let Us Be Some Of   The   Few." 
   
   
   
 "I'D Like To Do It In high Places, Then," Said Madge. "O, You Needn'T 
 Talk, Lois! It'S A Great Deal Nicer To Have A Leopard Skin Under Your 
 Feet Than A Rag-Carpet." 
   
   
   
 Lois Could Not Help Smiling, Though Something like Tears Was Gathering. 
   
   
   
 "And I'D Rather Have Mr. Dillwyn Take Care Of   Me Than Uncle Tim 
 Hotchkiss." 
   
   
   
 The Laughter And The   Tears Came Both More Unmistakeably. Lois Felt A 
 Little Hysterical. She Finished dressing hurriedly, And Heard As Little 
 As Possible Of   Madge'S Further Communications. 
   
   
   
 It Was A Few Hours Later, That Same Morning, That Philip Dillwyn 
 
 
 
 Chapter 44 (Choosing a Wife) Pg 169 
 Strolled into His Sister'S Breakfast-Room. It Was A Room At The   Back Of 
 The House, The   End Of   A Suite; And From It The   Eye Roved through 
 Half-Drawn _Portières_ And Between Rows Of   Pillars, Along A Vista Of 
 The Parquetted floors Madge Had Described to Her Sister; Catching here 
 The Glitter Of   Gold From A Picture Frame, And There A Gleam Of   White 
 From A Marble Figure, Through The   Half Light Which Reigned there. In 
 The Breakfast-Room It Was Bright Day; And Mrs. Burrage Was Finishing 
 Her Chocolate And Playing with Bits Of   Dry Toast, When Her Brother Came 
 In. Philip Had Hardly Exchanged greetings And Taken His Seat, When His 
 Attention Was Claimed by Mrs. Burrage'S Young Son And Heir, Who 
 Forthwith Thrust Himself Between His Uncle'S Knees, A Bat In one Hand, 
 A Worsted ball In the   Other. 
   
   
   
 "Uncle Phil, Mamma Says Her Name Usen'T To Be Burrage--It Was Your 
 Name?" 
   
   
   
 "That Is Correct." 
   
   
   
 "If It Was Your Name Once, Why Isn'T It Your Name Now?" 
   
   
   
 "Because She Changed it And Became Burrage." 
   
   
   
 "What Made Her Be Burrage?" 
   
   
   
 "That Is A Deep Question In mental Philosophy, Which I Am Unable To 
 Answer, Chauncey." 
   
   
   
 "She Says, It'S Because She Married papa." 
   
   
   
 "Does Not Your Mother Generally Speak Truth?" 
   
   
   
 Young Philip Chauncey Seemed to Consider This Question; And Finally 
 Waiving it, Went On Pulling at A Button Of   His Uncle'S Coat In the 
 Energy Of   His Inquiries. 
   
   
   
 "Uncle Phil, You Haven'T Got A Wife?" 
   
   
   
 "No." 
   
   
   
 "Why Haven'T You?" 
   
   
   
 "An Old Cookery Book Says, 'First Catch Your Hare.'" 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 44 (Choosing a Wife) Pg 170 
 "Must You Catch Your Wife?" 
   
   
   
 "I Suppose So." 
   
   
   
 "How Do You Catch Her?" 
   
   
   
 But The   Answer To This Most Serious Inquiry Was Met By Such A Burst Of 
 Laughter On The   Part Of   Both The   Older Persons In the   Room, That Phil 
 Had To Wait; Nothing daunted, However, Returned to The   Charge. 
   
   
   
 "Uncle Phil, If You Had A Wife, What Would Her Name Be?" 
   
   
   
 "If Ever I Have One, Chauncey, Her Name Will Be--" 
   
   
   
 But Here The   Speaker Had Very Nearly, In his Abstraction, Brought Out A 
 Name That Would, To Say The   Least, Have Astonished his Sister. He 
 Caught Himself Up Just In time, And Laughed. 
   
   
   
 "If Ever I Have One, Her Name Will Be Mine." 
   
   
   
 "I Did Not Know, Last Night, But You Had Chosen The   Lady To Whom You 
 Intended to Do So Much Honour," His Sister Observed coolly, Looking at 
 Him Across Her Chocolate Cup. 
   
   
   
 "Or Who I Hoped would Do Me So Much Honour. What Did You Think Of   My 
 Supposed choice?" He Asked with Equal Coolness. 
   
   
   
 "What Could I Think, Except That You Were Like All Other 
 Men--Distraught For A Pretty Face." 
   
   
   
 "One Might Do Worse," Observed philip, In the   Same Tone, While That Of 
 His Sister Grew Warmer. 
   
   
   
 "Some Men,--But Not You, Philip?" 
   
   
   
 "What Distinguishes Me From The   Mass?" 
   
   
   
 "You Are Too Old To Be Made A Fool Of." 
   
   
   
 "Old Enough To Be Wise, Certainly." 
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 44 (Choosing a Wife) Pg 171 
   
 "And You Are Too Fastidious To Be Satisfied with Anything short Of 
 Perfection; And Then You Fill Too High A Position In the   World To Marry 
 A Girl Who Is Nobody." 
   
   
   
 "So?"--Said Philip, Using, Which It Always Vexed his Sister To Have Him 
 Do, The   Half Questioning, Half Admiring, Wholly Unattackable German 
 Expression. "Then The   Person Alluded to Seemed to You Something short 
 Of Perfection?" 
   
   
   
 "She Is Handsome," Returned his Sister; "She Has A Very Handsome Face; 
 Anybody Can See That; But That Does Not Make Her Your Equal." 
   
   
   
 "Humph!--You Suppose I Can Find That Rare Bird, My Equal, Do You?" 
   
   
   
 "Not There." 
   
   
   
 "What'S The   Matter With Her?" 
   
   
   
 "She Is Simply Nobody." 
   
   
   
 "Seems To Say A Good Deal," Responded philip. "I Do Not Know Just 
 _What_ It Says." 
   
   
   
 "You Know As Well As I Do! And She Is Unformed; Unused to All The   Ways 
 Of The   World; A Mere Novice In society." 
   
   
   
 "Part Of   That Is Soon Mended," Said Philip Easily. "I Heard Your Uncle, 
 Or Burrage'S Uncle, Old Colonel Chauncey, Last Night Declaring that 
 There Is Not A Girl In the   City That Has Such Manners As One Of   The 
 Miss Lothrops; Manners Of   'Mingled grace And Dignity,' He Said." 
   
   
   
 "That Was The   Other One." 
   
   
   
 "That Was The   Other One." 
   
   
   
 "_She_ Has Been In new York Before?" 
   
   
   
 "Yes." 
   
   
   
 "That Was The   One That Tom Caruthers Was Bewitched with?" 
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 44 (Choosing a Wife) Pg 172 
   
   
 "Have You Heard _That_ Story?" Said Mr. Dillwyn Dryly. 
   
   
   
 "Why Shouldn'T I Hear It?" 
   
   
   
 "No Reason, That I Know. It Is One Of   The   'Ways Of   The   World' You 
 Referred to, To Tell Everything of   Everybody,--Especially When It Is 
 Not True." 
   
   
   
 "Isn'T That Story True?" 
   
   
   
 "It Has No Inherent Improbability. Tom Is Open To Influences, And--" He 
 Stopped. 
   
   
   
 "I Know It Is True; For Mrs. Caruthers Told Me Herself." 
   
   
   
 "Poor Tom!"-- 
   
   
   
 "It Was Very Good For Him, That The   Thing was Put An End To. But 
 _You_--You Should Fly At Higher Game Than Tom Caruthers Can Strike, 
 Philip." 
   
   
   
 "Thank You. There Was No Occasion For Your Special Fear Last Night. I 
 Am In no Danger There. But I Know A Man, Jessie,--A Man I Think Much 
 Of, Too,--Who _Is_ Very Much Drawn To One Of   Those Ladies. He Has 
 Confessed as Much To Me. What Advice Shall I Give Him? He Is A Man That 
 Can Please Himself; He Has Abundant Means, And No Ties To Encumber Him." 
   
   
   
 "Does He Hold As High A Position As You?" 
   
   
   
 "Quite." 
   
   
   
 "And May Pretend To As Much?" 
   
   
   
 "He Is Not A Man Of   Pretensions. But, Taking your Words As They Mean, I 
 Should Say, Yes." 
   
   
   
 "Is It Any Use To Offer Him Advice?" 
   
   
   
 "I Think He Generally Hears Mine--If He Is Not Too Far Gone In 
 Something." 
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 44 (Choosing a Wife) Pg 173 
   
   
 "Ah!--Well, Philip, Tell Him To Think What He Is Doing." 
   
   
   
 "O, I _Have_ Put That Before Him." 
   
   
   
 "He Would Make Himself A Great Goose." 
   
   
   
 "Perhaps I Ought To Have Some Arguments Wherewith To Substantiate That 
 Prophecy." 
   
   
   
 "He Can See The   Whole For Himself. Let Him Think Of   The   Fitness Of 
 Things. Imagine Such A Girl Set To Preside Over His House--A House Like 
 This, For Instance. Imagine Her Helping him Receive His Guests; Sitting 
 At The   Head Of   His Table. Fancy It; A Girl Who Has Been Accustomed to 
 Sanded floors, Perhaps, And Paper Window-Shades, And Who Has Fed on 
 Pumpkins And Pork All Her Life." 
   
   
   
 Mr. Dillwyn Smiled, As His Eye Roved over What Of   His Sister'S House 
 Was Visible From Where He Sat, And He Remembered the   Meal-Times In 
 Shampuashuh; He Smiled, But His Eye Had More Thought In it Than Mrs. 
 Burrage Liked. She Was Watching him. 
   
   
   
 "I Cannot Tell What Sort Of   A House Is In question In the   Present 
 Case," He Said At Length. "Perhaps It Would Not Be A House Like This." 
   
   
   
 "It _Ought_ To Be A House Like This." 
   
   
   
 "Isn'T That An Open Question?" 
   
   
   
 "No! I Am Supposing that This Man, Your Friend-- Do I Know Him?" 
   
   
   
 "Do You Not Know Everybody? But I Have No Permission To Disclose His 
 Name." 
   
   
   
 "And I Do Not Care For It, If He Is Going to Make A _Mésalliance;_ A 
 Marriage Beneath Him. Such Marriages Turn Out Miserably. A Woman Not 
 Fit For Society Drags Her Husband Out Of   It; A Woman Who Has Not 
 Refined tastes Makes Him Gradually Coarse; A Woman With No Connections 
 Keeps Him From Rising in life; If She Is Without Education, She Lets 
 All The   Best Part Of   Him Go To Waste. In short, If He Marries A Nobody 
 He Becomes Nobody Too; Parts With All His Antecedents, And Buries All 
 His Advantages. It'S Social Ruin, Philip! It Is Just Ruin." 
   
   
   
 "If This Man Only Does Not Prefer The   Bliss Of   Ruining himself!"--Said 
 Her Brother, Rising and Lightly Stretching himself. Mrs. Burrage Looked 
 At Him Keenly And Doubtfully. 
 
 
 
 Chapter 44 (Choosing a Wife) Pg 174 
   
   
 "There Is No Greater Mistake A Man Can Make, Than To Marry Beneath 
 Him," She Went On. 
   
   
   
 "Yes, I Think That Too." 
   
   
   
 "It Sinks Him Below His Level; It Is A Weight Round His Neck; People 
 Afterwards, When He Is Mentioned say,--'_He Married such A One, You 
 Know;_' And, '_Didn'T He Marry Unfortunately?_'--He Is Like Depreciated 
 Coin. It Kills Him, Philip, Politically." 
   
   
   
 "And Fashionably." 
   
   
   
 "O, Fashionably! Of   Course." 
   
   
   
 "What'S Left To A Man When He Ceases To Be Fashionable?" 
   
   
   
 "Well, Of   Course He Chooses A New Set Of   Associates." 
   
   
   
 "But If Tom Caruthers Had Married as You Say He Wanted to Marry, His 
 Wife Would Have Come At Once Into His Circle, And Made One Of   It?" 
   
   
   
 "Provided she Could Hold The   Place." 
   
   
   
 "Of That I Have No Doubt." 
   
   
   
 "It Was A Great Gain To Tom That He Missed." 
   
   
   
 "The World Has Odd Balances To Weigh Loss And Gain!" Said Philip. 
   
   
   
 "Why, Philip, In addition To Everything else, These Girls Are 
 _Religious;_--Not After A Reasonable Fashion, You Know, But 
 Puritanical; Prejudiced, And Narrow, And Stiff." 
   
   
   
 "How Do You Know All That?" 
   
   
   
 "From That One'S Talk Last Night. And From Mrs. Wishart." 
   
   
   
 "Did _She_ Say They Were Puritanical?" 
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 44 (Choosing a Wife) Pg 175 
   
 "Yes. O Yes! They Are Stiff About Dancing and Cards; And I Had Nearly 
 Laughed last Night At The   Way Miss--What'S Her Name?--Opened her Eyes 
 At Me When I Spoke Of   The   Theatre." 
   
   
   
 "She Does Not Know What The   Theatre Is," Said Philip. 
   
   
   
 "She Thinks She Does." 
   
   
   
 "She Does Not Know The   Half." 
   
   
   
 "Philip," Said Mrs. Burrage Severely And Discontentedly, "You Are Not 
 Agreeing with Me." 
   
   
   
 "Not Entirely, Sister." 
   
   
   
 "You Are As Fond Of   The   Theatre, Or Of   The   Opera, As Anybody I Know." 
   
   
   
 "I Never Saw A Decent Opera In my Life." 
   
   
   
 "Philip!" 
   
   
   
 "Nor Did You." 
   
   
   
 "How Ridiculous! You Have Been Going to The   Opera All Your Life, And 
 The Theatre Too, In half A Dozen Different Countries." 
   
   
   
 "Therefore I Claim To Know Of   What I Speak. And If I Had A Wife--" He 
 Paused. His Thoughts Made Two Or Three Leaps; The   Vision Of   Lois'S 
 Sweet, Pure Dignity Came Before Him, And Words Were Wanting. 
   
   
   
 "What If You Had A Wife?" Asked his Sister Impatiently. 
   
   
   
 "I Would Rather She Would Be Anything but A 'Fast' Woman." 
   
   
   
 "She Needn'T Be 'Fast'; But She Needn'T Be Precise Either." 
   
   
   
 There Was Something in philip'S Air Or His Silence Which Provoked mrs. 
 Burrage. She Went On With Some Heat, And Defiantly. 
 
 
 
 Chapter 44 (Choosing a Wife) Pg 176 
   
   
 "I Have No Objection To Religion, In a Proper Way. I Always Teach 
 Chauncey To Make The   Responses." 
   
   
   
 "Make Them Yourself?" 
   
   
   
 "Of Course." 
   
   
   
 "Do You Mean Them?" 
   
   
   
 "Mean Them!"-- 
   
   
   
 "Yes. Do You Mean What You Say? When You Have Said, 'Lord, Have Mercy 
 Upon Us, Miserable Sinners'--Did You Feel Guilty? Or Miserable?" 
   
   
   
 "Miserable!"-- 
   
   
   
 "Yes. Did You Feel Miserable?" 
   
   
   
 "Philip, I Have No Idea What You Are Driving at, Unless You Are 
 Defending these Two Precise, Puritanical Young Country-Women." 
   
   
   
 "A Little Of   That," He Said, Smiling, "And A Little Of   Something else." 
   
   
   
 He Had Risen, As If To Go. His Sister Looked at Him, Vexed and 
 Uncertain. She Was Proud Of   Her Brother, She Admired him, As Almost 
 People Did Who Knew Mr. Dillwyn. Suddenly She Changed her Tactics; Rose 
 Up, And Coming to Him Laid Both Her Hands On His Shoulders So That She 
 Could Raise Herself Up To Kiss Him. 
   
   
   
 "Don'T _You_ Go And Be Foolish!" She Said. "I Will Forgive Your Friend, 
 Philip, But I Will Not Forgive You!" 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 45 (Duty) Pg 177 
   
 The Days Of   December Went By. Lois Was Herself Again, In health; And 
 Nothing was In the   Way Of   Madge'S Full Enjoyment Of   New York And Its 
 Pleasures, So She Enjoyed them To The   Full. She Went Wherever Mrs. 
 Wishart Would Take Her. That Did Not Involve Any Very Outrageous 
 Dissipation, For Mrs. Wishart, Though Fond Of   Society, Liked it Best In 
 Moderation. Moderate Companies And Moderate Hours Suited her. However, 
 Madge Had Enough To Content Her New Thirst For Excitement And Variety, 
 Especially As Mr. Dillwyn Continually Came In to Fill Up Gaps In her 
 Engagements. He Took Her To Drive, Or To See Various Sights, Which For 
 The Country-Bred girl Were Full Of   Enchantment; And He Came To The 
 House Constantly On The   Empty Evenings. 
   
   
   
 Lois Queried again And Again What Brought Him There? Madge It Must Be; 
 It Could Hardly Be The   Society Of   His Old Friend Mrs. Wishart. It Was 
 Not Her Society That He Sought. He Was General In his Attentions, To Be 
 Sure; But He Played chess With Madge, He Accompanied madge'S Singing, 
 He Helped madge In her French Reading and Italian Pronunciation, And 
 Took Madge Out. He Did None Of   These Things With Lois. Truly Lois Had 
 Been Asked, And Would Not Go Out Either Alone Or With Her Sister In mr. 
 Dillwyn'S Carriage Or In mr. Dillwyn'S Convoy. And She Had Been 
 Challenged, And Invariably Declined, To Sing with Them; And She Did Not 
 Want To Learn The   Game Of   Chess, And Took No Help From Anybody In her 
 Studies. Indeed, Lois Kept Herself Persistently In the   Background, And 
 Refused to Accompany Her Friends To Any Sort Of   Parties; And At Home, 
 Though She Must Sit Down-Stairs In the   Evening, She Withdrew From The 
 Conversation As Much As She Could. 
   
   
   
 "My Dear," Said Mrs. Wishart, Much Vexed at Last, "You Do Not Think It 
 Is _Wicked_ To Go Into Society, I Hope?" 
   
   
   
 "Not For You. I Do Not Think It Would Be Right For Me." 
   
   
   
 "Why Not, Pray? Is This Puritanism?" 
   
   
   
 "Not At All," Said Lois, Smiling. 
   
   
   
 "She Is A Regular Puritan, Though," Said Madge. 
   
   
   
 "It Isn'T That," Lois Repeated. "I Like Going out Among People As Well 
 As Madge Does. I Am Afraid I Might Like It Too Well." 
   
   
   
 "What Do You Mean By 'Too Well'?" Demanded her Protectress, A Little 
 Angrily. 
   
   
   
 "More Than Would Be Good For Me. Just Think--In A Little While I Must 
 
 
 
 Chapter 45 (Duty) Pg 178 
 Go Back To Esterbrooke And Teaching; Don'T You See, I Had Better Not 
 Get Myself Entangled with What Would Unfit Me For My Work?" 
   
   
   
 "Nonsense! That Is Not Your Work." 
   
   
   
 "You Are _Never_ Going back To That Horrid Place!" Exclaimed madge. 
   
   
   
 But They Both Knew, From The   Manner Of   Lois'S Quiet Silence, That Their 
 Positions Would Not Be Maintained. 
   
   
   
 "There'S The   More Reason, If You Are Going back There By And By, Why 
 You Should Take All The   Advantage You Can Of   The   Present," Mrs. Wishart 
 Added. Lois Gave Her A Sweet, Grateful Look, Acknowledging her 
 Tenderness, But Not Granting her Conclusions. She Got Away From The 
 Subject As Soon As She Could. The   Question Of   The   Sisters' Return Home 
 Had Already Been Broached by Lois; Received, However, By Mrs. Wishart 
 With Such Contempt, And By Madge With Such Utter Disfavour, That Lois 
 Found The   Point Could Not Be Carried; At Least Not At That Time; And 
 Then Winter Began To Set In, And She Could Find No Valid Reason For 
 Making the   Move Before It Should Be Gone Again, Mrs. Wishart'S 
 Intention Being unmistakeable To Keep Them Until Spring. But How Was 
 She Going to Hold Out Until Spring? Lois Felt Herself Very 
 Uncomfortable. She Could Not Possibly Avoid Seeing mr. Dillwyn 
 Constantly; She Could Not Always Help Talking to Him, For Sometimes He 
 Would Make Her Talk; And She Was Very Much Afraid That She Liked to 
 Talk To Him. All The   While She Was Obliged to See How Much Attention He 
 Was Paying to Madge, And It Was No Secret How Well Madge Liked it; And 
 Lois Was Afraid To Look At Her Own Reasons For Disliking it. Was It 
 Merely Because Mr. Dillwyn Was A Man Of   The   World, And She Did Not Want 
 Her Sister To Get Entangled with Him? Her Sister, Who Had Made No 
 Promise To Her Grandmother, And Who Was Only Bound, And Perhaps Would 
 Not Be Bound, By Bible Commands? Lois Had Never Opened her Bible To 
 Study The   Point, Since That Evening when Mr. Dillwyn Had Interrupted 
 Her. She Was Ashamed to Do It. The   Question Ought To Have No Interest 
 For Her. 
   
   
   
 So Days Went By, And Weeks, And The   Year Was Near At An End, When The 
 First Snow Came. It Had Held Off Wonderfully, People Said; And Now When 
 It Came It Came In earnest. It Snowed all Night And All Day; And Slowly 
 Then The   Clouds Thinned and Parted and Cleared away, And The   Westering 
 Sun Broke Out Upon A Brilliant World. 
   
   
   
 Lois Sat At Her Window, Looking out At It, And Chiding herself That It 
 Made Her Feel Sober. Or Else, By Contrast, It Let Her Know How Sober 
 She Was. The   Spectacle Was Wholly Joy-Inspiring, And So She Had Been 
 Wont To Find It. Snow Lying unbroken On All The   Ground, In one White, 
 Fair Glitter; Snow Lying piled up On The   Branches And Twigs Of   Trees, 
 Doubling them With White Coral; Snow In ridges And Banks On The 
 Opposite Shore Of   The   River; And Between, The   Rolling waters. Madge 
 Burst In. 
   
   
   
 "Isn'T It Glorious?" Said Lois. "Come Here And See How Black The   River 
 Is Rolling between Its White Banks." 
   
   
   
 "Black? I Didn'T Know Anything was Black," Said Madge. "Here Is Mr. 
 
 
 
 Chapter 45 (Duty) Pg 179 
 Dillwyn, Come To Take Me Sleigh-Riding. Just Think, Lois!--A Sleigh 
 Ride In the   Park!--O, I'M So Glad I Have Got My Hood Done!" 
   
   
   
 Lois Slowly Turned her Head Round. "Sleigh-Riding?" She Said. "Are You 
 Going sleigh-Riding, And With Mr. Dillwyn?" 
   
   
   
 "Yes Indeed, Why Not?" Said Madge, Bustling about With Great Activity. 
 "I'D Rather Go With Him Than With Anybody Else, I Can Tell You. He Has 
 Got His Sister'S Horses--Mrs. Burrage Don'T Like Sleighing--And Mr. 
 Burrage Begged he Would Take The   Horses Out. They'Re Gay, But He Knows 
 How To Drive. O, Won'T It Be Magnificent?" 
   
   
   
 Lois Looked at Her Sister In silence, Unwilling, Yet Not Knowing what 
 To Object; While Madge Wrapped herself In a Warm Cloak, And Donned a 
 Silk Hood Lined with Cherry Colour, In which She Was Certainly 
 Something to Look At. No Plainer Attire Nor Brighter Beauty Would Be 
 Seen Among The   Gay Snow-Revellers That Afternoon. She Flung A Sparkling 
 Glance At Her Sister As She Turned to Go. 
   
   
   
 "Don'T Be Very Long!" Lois Said. 
   
   
   
 "Just As Long As He Likes To Make It!" Madge Returned. "Do You Think 
 _I_ Am Going to Ask Him To Turn About, Before He Is Ready? Not I, I 
 Promise You. Good-Bye, Hermit!" 
   
   
   
 Away She Ran, And Lois Turned again To Her Window, Where All The   White 
 Seemed suddenly To Have Become Black. She Will Marry Him!--She Was 
 Saying to Herself. And Why Should She Not? She Has Made No Promise. _I_ 
 Am Bound--Doubly; What Is It To Me, What They Do? Yet If Not Right For 
 Me It Is Not Right For Madge. _Is_ The   Bible Absolute About It? 
   
   
   
 She Thought It Would Perhaps Serve To Settle And Stay Her Mind If She 
 Went To The   Bible With The   Question And Studied it Fairly Out. She Drew 
 Up The   Table With The   Book, And Prayed earnestly To Be Taught The 
 Truth, And To Be Kept Contented with The   Right. Then She Opened at The 
 Well-Known Words In 2 Corinthians, Chap. Vi. 
   
   
   
 "Be Ye Not Unequally Yoked together With Unbelievers"-- 
   
   
   
 "Yoked together." That Is, Bound In a Bond Which Obliges Two To Go One 
 Way And Pull In one Draught. Then Of   Course They _Must_ Go One Way; And 
 Which Way, Will Depend Upon Which Is Strongest. But Cannot A Good Woman 
 Use Her Influence To Induce A Man Who Is Also Good, Only Not Christian, 
 To Go The   Right Way? 
   
   
   
 Lois Pondered this, Wishing to Believe It. Yet There Stood The   Command. 
 And She Remembered there Are Two Sides To Influence; Could Not A Good 
 Man, And A Pleasant Man, Only Not Christian, Use His Power To Induce A 
 Christian Woman To Go The   Wrong Way? How Little She Would Like To 
 Displease Him! How Willingly She Would Gratify Him!--And Then There 
 Stands The   Command. And, Turning from It To A Parallel Passage In 1 
 
 
 
 Chapter 45 (Duty) Pg 180 
 Cor. Vii. 39, She Read Again The   Directions For The   Marriage Of   A 
 Christian Widow; She Is At Liberty To Be Married to Whom She Will, 
 "_Only In the   Lord_." There Could Be No Question Of   What Is The   Will Of 
 God In this Matter. And In deut. Vii. 3, 4, She Studied anew The 
 Reasons There Given. "Neither Shalt Thou Make Marriages With Them; Thy 
 Daughter Thou Shalt Not Give Unto His Son, Nor His Daughter Shalt Thou 
 Take Unto Thy Son. For They Will Turn Away Thy Son From Following me, 
 That They May Serve Other Gods." 
   
   
   
 Lois Studied these Passages With I Cannot Say How Much Aching of   Heart. 
 Why Did Her Heart Ache? It Was Nothing to Her, Surely; She Neither 
 Loved nor Was Going to Love Any Man To Whom The   Prohibition Could 
 Apply. Why Should She Concern Herself With The   Matter? Madge?-- Well, 
 Madge Must Be The   Keeper Of   Her Own Conscience; She Would Probably 
 Marry Mr. Dillwyn; And Poor Lois Saw Sufficiently Into The   Workings Of 
 Her Own Heart To Know That She Thought Her Sister Very Happy In the 
 Prospect. But Then, If The   Question Of   Conscience Could Be So Got Over, 
 _Why_ Was She Troubled? She Would Not Evade The   Inquiry; She Forced 
 Herself To Make It; And She Writhed under The   Pressure And The   Pain It 
 Caused her. At Last, Thoroughly Humbled and Grieved and Ashamed, She 
 Fled to A Woman'S Refuge In tears, And A Christian'S Refuge In prayer; 
 And From The   Bottom Of   Her Heart, Though With Some Very Hard Struggles, 
 Gave Up Every Lingering thought And Wish That Ran Counter To The   Bible 
 Command. Let Madge Do What Madge Thought Right; She Had Warned her Of 
 The Truth. Now Her Business Was With Herself And Her Own Action; And 
 Lois Made Clean Work Of   It. I Cannot Say She Was Exactly A Happy Woman 
 As She Went Down-Stairs; But She Felt Strong And At Peace. Doing the 
 Lord'S Will, She Could Not Be Miserable; With The   Lord'S Presence She 
 Could Not Be Utterly Alone; Anyhow, She Would Trust Him And Do Her 
 Duty, And Leave All The   Rest. 
   
   
   
 She Went Down-Stairs At Last, For She Had Spent The   Afternoon In her 
 Own Room, And Felt That She Owed it To Mrs. Wishart To Go Down And Keep 
 Her Company. O, If Spring were But Come! She Thought As She Descended 
 The Staircase,--And She Could Get Away, And Take Hold Of   Her Work, And 
 Bring things Into The   Old Train! Spring was Many Weeks Off Yet, And She 
 Must Do Different And Harder Work First, She Saw. She Went Down To The 
 Back Drawing-Room And Laid Herself Upon The   Sofa. 
   
   
   
 "Are You Not Well, Lois?" Was The   Immediate Question From Mrs. Wishart. 
   
   
   
 "Yes, Ma'Am; Only Not Just Vigorous. How Long They Are Gone! It Is 
 Growing late." 
   
   
   
 "The Sleighing is Tempting. It Is Not Often We Have Such A Chance. I 
 Suppose Everybody Is Out. _You_ Don'T Go Into The   Air Enough, Lois." 
   
   
   
 "I Took A Walk This Morning." 
   
   
   
 "In The   Snow!--And Came Back Tired. I Saw It In your Face. Such 
 Dreadful Walking was Enough To Tire You. I Don'T Think You Half Know 
 How To Take Care Of   Yourself." 
   
   
   
 Lois Let The   Charge Pass Undisputed, And Lay Still. The   Afternoon Had 
 Waned and The   Sun Gone Down; The   Snow, However, Made It Still Light 
 
 
 
 Chapter 45 (Duty) Pg 181 
 Outside. But That Light Faded too; And It Was Really Evening, When 
 Sounds At The   Front Door Announced the   Return Of   The   Sleighing party. 
 Presently Madge Burst In, Rosy And Gay As Snow And Sleigh-Bells Could 
 Make Anybody. 
   
   
   
 "It'S Glorious!" She Said. "O, We Have Been To The   Park And All Over. 
 It'S Splendid! Everybody In the   World Is Out, And We Saw Everybody, And 
 Some People We Saw Two Or Three Times; And It'S Like Nothing in all The 
 World I Ever Saw Before. The   Whole Air Is Full Of   Sleigh-Bells; And The 
 Roads Are So Thick With Sleighs That It Is Positively Dangerous." 
   
   
   
 "That Must Make It Very Pleasant!" Said Lois Languidly. 
   
   
   
 "O, It Does! There'S The   Excitement, You Know, And The   Skill Of 
 Steering clear Of   People That You Think Are Going to Run Over You. It'S 
 The Greatest Fun I Ever Saw In my Life. And Mr. Dillwyn Drives 
 Beautifully." 
   
   
   
 "I Dare Say." 
   
   
   
 "And The   Next Piece Of   Driving he Does, Is To Drive You Out." 
   
   
   
 "I Hardly Think He Will Manage That." 
   
   
   
 "Well, You'Ll See. Here He Is. She Says She Hardly Thinks You Will, Mr. 
 Dillwyn. Now For A Trial Of   Power!" 
   
   
   
 Madge Stood In the   Centre Of   The   Room, Her Hood Off, Her Little Plain 
 Cloak Still Round Her; Eyes Sparkling, Cheeks Rosy With Pleasure And 
 Frosty Air, A Very Handsome And Striking figure. Lois'S Eyes Dwelt Upon 
 Her, Glad And Sorry At Once; But Lois Had Herself In hand Now, And Was 
 As Calm As The   Other Was Excited. Then Presently Came Mr. Diliwyn, And 
 Sat Down Beside Her Couch. 
   
   
   
 "How Do You Do, This Evening?" 
   
   
   
 His Manner, She Noticed, Was Not At All Like Madge'S; It Was Quiet, 
 Sober, Collected, Gentle; Sleighing seemed to Have Wrought No 
 Particular Exhilaration On Him. Therefore It Disarmed lois. She Gave 
 Her Answer In a Similar Tone. 
   
   
   
 "Have You Been Out To-Day?" 
   
   
   
 "Yes--Quite A Long Walk This Morning." 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 45 (Duty) Pg 182 
 "Now I Want You To Let Me Give You A Short Drive." 
   
   
   
 "O No, I Think Not." 
   
   
   
 "Come!" Said He. "I May Not Have Another Opportunity To Show You What 
 You Will See To-Day; And I Want You To See It." 
   
   
   
 He Did Not Seem To Use Much Urgency, And Yet There Was A Certain 
 Insistance In his Tone Which Lois Felt, And Which Had Its Effect Upon 
 Her, As Such Tones Are Apt To Do, Even When One Does Not Willingly 
 Submit To Them. She Objected that It Was Late. 
   
   
   
 "O, The   Moon Is Up," Cried madge; "It Won'T Be Any Darker Than It Is 
 Now." 
   
   
   
 "It Will Be Brighter," Said Philip. 
   
   
   
 "But Your Horses Must Have Had Enough." 
   
   
   
 "Just Enough," Said Philip, Laughing, "To Make Them Go Quietly. Miss 
 Madge Will Bear Witness They Were Beyond That At First. I Want You To 
 Go With Me. Come, Miss Lois! We Must Be Home Before Mrs. Wishart'S Tea. 
 Miss Madge, Give Her Your Hood And Cloak; That Will Save Time." 
   
   
   
 Why Should She Not Say No? She Found It Difficult, Against That 
 Something in his Tone. He Was More Intent Upon The   Affirmative Than She 
 Upon The   Negative. And After All, Why _Should_ She Say No? She Had 
 Fought Her Fight And Conquered; Mr. Dillwyn Was Nothing to Her, More 
 Than Another Man; Unless, Indeed, He Were To Be Madge'S Husband, And 
 Then She Would Have To Be On Good Terms With, Him. And She Had A Secret 
 Fancy To Have, For Once, The   Pleasure Of   This Drive With Him. Why Not, 
 Just To See How It Tasted? I Think It Went With Lois At This Moment As 
 In The   German Story, Where A Little Boy Vaunted himself To His Sister 
 That He Had Resisted the   Temptation To Buy Some Ripe Cherries, And So 
 Had Saved his Pennies. His Sister Praised his Prudence And Firmness. 
 "But Now, Dear Hercules," She Went On, "Now That You Have Done Right 
 And Saved your Pennies, Now, My Dear Brother, You May Reward Yourself 
 And Buy Your Cherries!" 
   
   
   
 Perhaps It Was With Some Such Unconscious Recoil From Judgment That 
 Lois Acted now. At Any Rate, She Slowly Rose From Her Sofa, And Madge, 
 Rejoicing, Threw Off Her Cloak And Put It Round Her, And Fastened its 
 Ties. Then Mr. Dillwyn Himself Took The   Hood And Put It On Her Head, 
 And Tied the   Strings Under Her Chin. The   Start This Gave Her Almost 
 Made Lois Repent Of   Her Decision; He Was Looking into Her Face, And His 
 Fingers Were Touching her Cheek, And The   Pain Of   It Was More Than Lois 
 Had Bargained for. No, She Thought, She Had Better Not Gone; But It Was 
 Too Late Now To Alter Things. She Stood Still, Feeling that Thrill Of 
 Pain And Pleasure Where The   One So Makes The   Other Keen, Keeping quiet 
 And Not Meeting his Eyes; And Then He Put Her Hand Upon His Arm And Led 
 Her Down The   Wide, Old-Fashioned staircase. Something in the   Air Of   It 
 All Brought To Lois'S Remembrance That Sunday Afternoon At Shampuashuh 
 And The   Walk Home In the   Rain; And It Gave Her A Stricture Of   Heart. 
 
 
 
 Chapter 45 (Duty) Pg 183 
 She Put The   Manner Now To Madge'S Account, And Thought Within Herself 
 That If Madge'S Hood And Cloak Were Beside Him It Probably Did Not 
 Matter Who Was In them; His Fancy Could Do The   Rest. Somehow She Did 
 Not Want To Go To Drive As Madge'S Proxy. However, There Was No Helping 
 That Now. She Was Put Into The   Sleigh, Enveloped in the   Fur Robes; Mr. 
 Dillwyn Took His Place Beside Her, And They Were Off. 
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 46 (Off And On) Pg 184 
   
 Certinaly Madge Had Not Said Too Much, And The   Scene Was Like Witchery. 
 The Sun Was Down, But The   Moon Was Up, Near Full, And Giving a White 
 Illumination To The   White World. The   Snow Had Fallen Thick, And Neither 
 Sun Nor Wind Had As Yet Made Any Impression Upon It; The   Covering of 
 The Road Was Thick And Well Beaten, And On Every Exposed level Surface 
 Lay The   White Treasure Piled up. Every Twig And Branch Of   The   Trees 
 Still Held Its Burden; Every Roof Was Blanketed; There Had Been No Time 
 Yet For Smoke And Soil To Come Upon The   Pure Surfaces; And On All This 
 Fell The   Pale Moon Rays, Casting pale Shadows And Making the   World 
 Somehow Look Like Something better Than Itself. The   Horses Mr. Dillwyn 
 Drove Were Fresh Enough Yet, And Stepped off Gaily, Their Bells 
 Clinking musically; And Other Bells Passed them And Sounded in the 
 Nearer And Further Distance. Moreover, Under This Illumination All Less 
 Agreeable Features Of   The   Landscape Were Covered up. It Was A Pure 
 Region Of   Enchanted beauty To Lois'S Sense, Through Which They Drove; 
 And She Felt As If A Spell Had Come Upon Her Too, And This Bit Of 
 Experience Were No More Real Than The   Rest Of   It. It Was Exquisitely 
 And Intensely Pleasant; A Bit Of   Life Quite Apart And By Itself, And 
 Never To Be Repeated, Therefore To Be Enjoyed all She Could While She 
 Had It. Which Thought Was Not Enjoyment. Was She Not Foolish To Have 
 Come? 
   
   
   
 "Are You Comfortable?" Suddenly Mr. Dillwyn'S Voice Came In upon These 
 Musings. 
   
   
   
 "O, Perfectly!" Lois Answered, With An Accentuation Between Delight And 
 Desperation. 
   
   
   
 And Then He Was Silent Again; And She Went On With Her Musings, Just 
 That Word Having given Them A Spur. How Exquisite The   Scene Was! How 
 Exquisite Everything, In fact. All The   Uncomelinesses Of   A City Suburb 
 Were Veiled under The   Moonlight; Nothing but Beauty Could Be Seen; Here 
 Were Points That Caught The   Light, And There Were Shadows That Simply 
 Served to Set Off The   Silvery Whiteness Of   The   Moon And The   Snow; What 
 It Was That Made Those Points Of   Reflection, Or What Lay Beneath Those 
 Soft Shadows, Did Not Appear. The   Road Was Beaten Smooth, The   Going was 
 
 
 
 Chapter 46 (Off And On) Pg 185 
 Capital, The   Horses Trotted swiftly And Steadily, Lois Was Wrapped in 
 Soft Furs, And The   Air Which She Was Breathing was Merely Cold Enough 
 To Exhilarate. It Was Perfection. In truth It Was So Perfect, And Lois 
 Enjoyed it So Keenly, That She Began To Be Vexed at Herself For Her 
 Enjoyment. Why Should Mr. Dillwyn Have Got Her Out? All This Luxury Of 
 Sense And Feeling was Not Good For Her; Did Not Belong To Her; And Why 
 Should She Taste At All A Delight Which Must Be So Fleeting? And What 
 Had Possessed him To Tie Her Hood Strings For Her, And To Do It In that 
 Leisurely Way, As If He Liked it? And Why Did _She_ Like It? Lois 
 Scolded and Chid Herself. If He Were Going to Marry Madge Ever So Much, 
 That Gave Him No Right To Take Such A Liberty; And She Would Not Allow 
 Him Such Liberties; She Would Keep Him At A Distance. But Was She Not 
 Going to A Distance Herself? There Would Be No Need. 
   
   
   
 The Moonlight Was Troubled, Though By No Cloud On The   Ethereal 
 Firmament; And Lois Was Not Quite So Conscious As She Had Been Of   The 
 Beauty Around Her. The   Silence Lasted a Good While; She Wondered if Her 
 Neighbour'S Thoughts Were Busy With The   Lady He Had Just Set Down, To 
 Such A Degree That He Forgot To Attend To His New Companion? Nothing 
 Could Be More Wide Of   The   Truth; But That Is The   Way We Judge And 
 Misjudge One Another. She Was Almost Hurt At His Silence, Before He 
 Spoke Again. The   Fact Is, That The   General Axiom That A Man Can Always 
 Put In words Anything of   Which His Head And Heart Are Both Full, Seems 
 To Have One Exception. Mr. Dillwyn Was A Good Talker, Always, On 
 Matters He Cared about, And Matters He Did Not Care About; And Yet Now, 
 When He Had Secured, One Would Say, The   Most Favourable Circumstances 
 For A Hearing, And Opportunity To Speak As He Liked, He Did Not Know 
 How To Speak. By And By His Hand Came Again Round Lois To See That The 
 Fur Robes Were Well Tucked in about Her. Something in the   Action Made 
 Her Impatient. 
   
   
   
 "I Am Very Well," She Said. 
   
   
   
 "You Must Be Taken Care Of, You Know," He Said; To Lois'S Fancy He Said 
 It As If There Were Some One To Whom He Must Be Responsible For Her. 
   
   
   
 "I Am Not Used to Being taken Care Of," She Said. "I Have Taken Care Of 
 Myself, Generally." 
   
   
   
 "Like It Better?" 
   
   
   
 "I Don'T Know. I Suppose Really No Woman Can Say She Likes It Better. 
 But I Am Accustomed to It." 
   
   
   
 "Don'T You Think I Could Take Care Of   You?" 
   
   
   
 "You _Are_ Taking capital Care Of   Me," Said Lois, Not Knowing exactly 
 How To Understand Him. "Just Now It Is Your Business; And I Should Say 
 You Were Doing it Well." 
   
   
   
 "What Would You Say If I Told You That I Wanted to Take Care Of   You All 
 Your Life?" 
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 46 (Off And On) Pg 186 
   
 He Had Let The   Horses Come To A Walk; The   Sleigh-Bells Only Tinkled 
 Softly; No Other Bells Were Near. Which Way They Had Gone Lois Had Not 
 Considered; But Evidently It Had Not Been Towards The   Busy And Noisy 
 Haunts Of   Men. However, She Did Not Think Of   This Till A Few Minutes 
 Afterwards; She Thought Now That Mr. Dillwyn'S Words Regarded madge'S 
 Sister, And Her Feeling of   Independence Became Rigid. 
   
   
   
 "A Kind Wish,--But Impracticable," She Answered. 
   
   
   
 "Why?" 
   
   
   
 "I Shall Be Too Far Off. That Is One Thing." 
   
   
   
 "Where Are You Going to Be?--Forgive Me For Asking!" 
   
   
   
 "O Yes. I Shall Be Keeping school In new England Somewhere, I Suppose; 
 First Of   All, At Esterbrooke." 
   
   
   
 "But If I Had The   Care Of   You--You Would Not Be There?" 
   
   
   
 "That Is My Place," Said Lois Shortly. 
   
   
   
 "Do You Mean It Is The   Place You Prefer?" 
   
   
   
 "There Is No Question Of   Preference. You Know, One'S Work Is What Is 
 Given One; And The   Thing given Me To Do, At Present, Seems To Be There. 
 Of Course I Do Prefer What My Work Is." 
   
   
   
 Still The   Horses Were Smoothly Walking. Mr. Dillwyri Was Silent A 
 Moment. 
   
   
   
 "You Did Not Understand What I Said To You Just Now. It Was Earnest." 
   
   
   
 "I Did Not Think It Was Anything else," Said Lois, Beginning to Wish 
 Herself At Home. "I Am Sure You Meant It, And I Know You Are Very Good; 
 But--You Cannot Take Care Of   Me." 
   
   
   
 "Give Me Your Reasons," He Said, Restraining the   Horses, Which Would 
 Have Set Off Upon A Quicker Pace Again. 
   
   
   
 "Why, Mr. Dillwyn, It Is Self-Evident. You Would Not Respect Me If I 
 
 
 
 Chapter 46 (Off And On) Pg 187 
 Allowed you To Do It; And I Should Not Respect Myself. We New England 
 Folks, If We Are Nothing else, We Are Independent." 
   
   
   
 "So?--" Said Mr. Dillwyn, In a Puzzled manner, But Then A Light Broke 
 Upon Him, And He Half Laughed.--"I Never Heard That The   Most Rampant 
 Spirit Of   Independence Made A Wife Object To Being dependent On Her 
 Husband." 
   
   
   
 "A Wife?" Said Lois, Not Knowing whether She Heard Aright. 
   
   
   
 "Yes," Said He. "How Else? How Could It Be Else? Lois, May I Have You, 
 To Take Care Of   The   Rest Of   My Life, As My Very Own?" 
   
   
   
 The Short, Smothered breath With Which This Was Spoken Was Intelligible 
 Enough, And Put Lois In the   Rarest Confusion. 
   
   
   
 "Me?--" Was All She Could Ejaculate. 
   
   
   
 "You, Certainly. I Never Saw Any Other Woman In my Life To Whom I 
 Wished to Put The   Question. You Are The   Whole World To Me, As Far As 
 Happiness Is Concerned." 
   
   
   
 "I?--" Said Lois Again. "I Thought--" 
   
   
   
 "What?" 
   
   
   
 She Hesitated, And He Urged the   Question. Lois Was Not Enough Mistress 
 Of Herself To Choose Her Words. 
   
   
   
 "I Thought--It Was Somebody Else." 
   
   
   
 "Did You?--Who Did You Think It Was?" 
   
   
   
 "O, Don'T Ask Me!" 
   
   
   
 "But I Think I Must Ask You. It Concerns Me To Know How, And Towards 
 Whom, My Manner Can Have Misled you. Who Was It?" 
   
   
   
 "It Was Not--Your Manner--Exactly," Said Lois, In terrible 
 Embarrassment. "I Was Mistaken." 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 46 (Off And On) Pg 188 
 "How Could You Be Mistaken?" 
   
   
   
 "I Never Dreamed--The Thought Never Entered my Head--That--It Was I." 
   
   
   
 "I Must Have Been In fault Then," Said He Gently; "I Did Not Want To 
 Wear My Heart On My Sleeve, And So Perhaps I Guarded myself Too Well. I 
 Did Not Wish To Know Anybody Else'S Opinion Of   My Suit Till I Had Heard 
 Yours. What Is Yours, Lois?--What Have You To Say To Me?" 
   
   
   
 He Checked the   Horses Again, And Sat With His Face Inclined towards 
 Her, Waiting eagerly, Lois Knew. And Then, What A Sharp Pain Shot 
 Through Her! All That Had Gone Before Was Nothing to This; And For A 
 Moment The   Girl'S Whole Nature Writhed under The   Torture. She Knew Her 
 Own Mind Now; She Was Fully Conscious That The   Best Gift Of   Earth Was 
 Within Her Grasp; Her Hands Were Stretched longingly Towards It, Her 
 Whole Heart Bounded towards It; To Let It Go Was To Fall Into An Abyss 
 From Which Light And Hope Seemed banished; There Was Everything in all 
 The World To Bid Her Give The   Answer That Was Waited for; Only Duty 
 Bade Her Not Give It. Loyalty To God Said No, And Her Promise Bound Her 
 Tongue. For That Minute That She Was Silent Lois Wrestled with Mortal 
 Pain. There Are Martyrs And Martyrdoms Now-A-Days, That The   World Takes 
 No Account Of; Nevertheless They Have Bled to Death For The   Cause, And 
 Have Been True To Their King at The   Cost Of   All They Had In the   World. 
 Mr. Dillwyn Was Waiting, And The   Fight Had To Be Short, Though Well She 
 Knew The   Pain Would Not Be. She Must Speak. She Did It Huskily, And 
 With A Fierce Effort. It Seemed as If The   Words Would Not Come Out. 
   
   
   
 "I Have Nothing to Say, Mr. Dillwyn,--That You Would Like To Hear," She 
 Added, Remembering that Her First Utterance Was Rather Indefinite. 
   
   
   
 "You Do Not Mean That?" He Said Hurriedly. 
   
   
   
 "Indeed i Do." 
   
   
   
 "I Know," He Said, "You Never Say Anything you Do Not Mean. But _How_ 
 Do You Mean It, Lois? Not To Deny Me? You Do Not Mean _That?_" 
   
   
   
 "Yes," She Said. And It Was Like Putting a Knife Through Her Own Heart 
 When She Said It. O, If She Were At Home! O, If She Had Never Come On 
 This Drive! O, If She Had Never Left Esterbrooke And Those 
 Sick-Beds!--But Here She Was, And Must Stand The   Question; And Mr. 
 Dillwyn Had Not Done. 
   
   
   
 "What Reason Do You Give Me?"--And His Voice Grated now With Pain. 
   
   
   
 "I Gave None," Said Lois Faintly. "Don'T Let Us Talk About It! It Is No 
 Use. Don'T Ask Me Anything more!" 
   
   
   
 "One Question I Must. I Must Know It. Do You Dislike Me, Lois?" 
 
 
 
 Chapter 46 (Off And On) Pg 189 
   
   
 "Dislike? O No! How Should I Dislike You?" She Answered. There Was A 
 Little, Very Slight, Vibration In her Voice As She Spoke, And Her 
 Companion Discerned it. When An Instrument Is Very High Strung, A Quite 
 Soft Touch Will Be Felt And Answered, And That Touch Swept All The 
 Strings Of   Mr. Dillwyn'S Soul With Music. 
   
   
   
 "If You Do Not Dislike Me, Then," Said He, "What Is It? Do You, 
 Possibly _Like_ Me, Lois?" 
   
   
   
 Lois Could Not Prevent A Little Hesitation Before She Answered, And 
 That, Too, Philip Well Noted. 
   
   
   
 "It Makes No Difference," She Said Desperately. "It Isn'T That. Don'T 
 Let Us Talk Any More About It! Mr. Dillwyn, The   Horses Have Been 
 Walking this Great While, And We Are A Long Way From Home; Won'T You 
 Drive On?" 
   
   
   
 He Did Drive On Then, And For A While Said Not A Word More. Lois Was 
 Panting with Eagerness To Get Home, And Could Not Go Fast Enough; She 
 Would Gladly Have Driven Herself, Only Not Quite Such A Fresh And Gay 
 Pair Of   Horses. They Swept Along Towards A Region That She Could See 
 From Afar Was Thicker Set With Lights Than The   Parts Where They Were. 
 Before They Reached it, However, Mr. Dillwyn Drew Rein Again, And Made 
 The Horses Walk Gently. 
   
   
   
 "There Is One Question Still I Must Ask," He Said; "And To Ask It, I 
 Must For A Moment Disobey Your Commands. Forgive Me; But When The 
 Happiness Of   A Whole Life Is At Stake, A Moment'S Pain Must Be 
 Borne--And Even Inflicted--To Make Sure One Is Not Suffering needlessly 
 A Far Greater Evil. Miss Lois, You Never Do Anything without A Reason; 
 Tell Me Your Reason For Refusing me. You Thought I Liked some One Else; 
 It Is Not That; I Never Have Liked any One Else. Now, What Is It?" 
   
   
   
 "There Is No Use In talking," Lois Murmured. "It Is Only Pain." 
   
   
   
 "Necessary Pain," Said He Firmly. "It Is Right I Should Know, And It 
 Must Be Possible For You To Tell Me. Say That It Is Because You Cannot 
 Like Me Well Enough--And I Shall Understand That." 
   
   
   
 But Lois Could Not Say It; And The   Pause, Which Embarrassed her 
 Terribly, Had Naturally A Different Effect Upon Her Companion. 
   
   
   
 "It Is _Not_ That!" He Cried. "Have You Been Led to Believe Something 
 False About Me, Lois?--Lois?" 
   
   
   
 "No," She Said, Trembling; The   Pain, And The   Difficulty Of   Speaking, 
 And The   Struggle It Cost, Set Her Absolutely To Trembling. "No, It Is 
 Something _True_." She Spoke Faintly, But He Listened well. 
 
 
 
 Chapter 46 (Off And On) Pg 190 
   
 "_True!_ What Is It? It Is Not True. What Do You Mean, Dear?" 
   
   
   
 The Several Things Which Came With The   Intonations Of   This Last 
 Question Overset The   Remnant Of   Lois'S Composure. She Burst Into Tears; 
 And He Was Looking, And The   Moonlight Was Full In her Face, And He 
 Could Not But See It. 
   
   
   
 "I Cannot Help It," She Cried; "And You Cannot Help It. It Is No Use To 
 Talk About It. You Know--O, You Know--You Are Not A Christian!" 
   
   
   
 It Was Almost A Cry At Last With Which She Said It; And The   Usually 
 Self-Contained lois Hid Her Face Away From Him. Whether The   Horses 
 Walked or Trotted for A Little While She Did Not Know; And I Think It 
 Was Only Mechanical, The   Effort By Which Their Driver Kept Them At A 
 Foot Pace. He Waited, However, Till Lois Dropped her Hands Again, And 
 He Thought She Would Attend To Him. 
   
   
   
 "May I Ask," He Then Said, And His Voice Was Curiously Clear And 
 Composed,--"If That Is Your _Only_ Objection To Me?" 
   
   
   
 "It Is Enough!" Said Lois Smotheredly, And Noticing at The   Same Time 
 That Ring in his Voice. 
   
   
   
 "You Think, One Who Is A Christian Ought Never To Marry Another Who Is 
 Not A Christian?" 
   
   
   
 "No!" She Said, In the   Same Way, As If Catching her Breath. 
   
   
   
 "It Is Very Often Done." 
   
   
   
 She Made No Reply. This Was A Most Cruel Discussion, She Thought. Would 
 They Never Reach Home? And The   Horses Walking! Walking, And Shaking 
 Their Heads, With Soft Little Peals Of   The   Bells, Like Creatures Who 
 Had At Last Got Quiet Enough To Like Walking. 
   
   
   
 "Is That All, Lois?" He Asked again; And The   Tone Of   His Voice 
 Irritated her. 
   
   
   
 "There Need not Be Anything more," She Answered. "That Is Enough. It Is 
 A Barrier For Ever Between Us; You Cannot Overcome It--And I Cannot. O, 
 Do Make The   Horses Go! We Shall Never Get Home! And Don'T Talk Any 
 More." 
   
   
   
 "I Will Let The   Horses Go Presently; But First I Must Talk A Little 
 
 
 
 Chapter 46 (Off And On) Pg 191 
 More, Because There Is Something that Must Be Said. That _Was_ A 
 Barrier, A While Ago; But It Is Not Now. There Is No Need for Either Of 
 Us To Overcome It Or Try To Overcome It, For It Does Not Exist. Lois, 
 Do You Hear Me? It Does Not Exist." 
   
   
   
 "I Do Not Understand," She Said, In a Dazed kind Of   Way, Turning 
 Towards Him. "What Does Not Exist?" 
   
   
   
 "That Barrier--Or Any Barrier--Between You And Me." 
   
   
   
 "Yes, It Does. It _Is_ A Barrier. I Promised my Dear Grandmother--And 
 If I Had Not Promised her, It Would Be Just The   Same, For I Have 
 Promised to Obey God; And He Forbids It." 
   
   
   
 "Forbids What?" 
   
   
   
 "Forbids Me, A Christian, To Have Anything to Do With You, Who Are Not 
 A Christian. I Mean, In that Way." 
   
   
   
 "But, Lois--I Am A Christian Too." 
   
   
   
 "You?" She Said, Turning towards Him. 
   
   
   
 "Yes." 
   
   
   
 "What Sort Of   A One?" 
   
   
   
 Philip Could Not Help Laughing at The   Naïve Question, Which, However, 
 He Perfectly Understood. 
   
   
   
 "Not An Old One," He Said; "And Not A Good One; And Yet, Lois, Truly An 
 Honest One. As You Mean The   Word. One Whose King christ Is, As He Is 
 Yours; And Who Trusts In him With The   Whole Heart, As You Do." 
   
   
   
 "You A Christian!" Exclaimed lois Now, In the   Greatest Astonishment. 
 "When Did It Happen?" 
   
   
   
 He Laughed again. "A Fair Question. Well, It Came About Last Summer. 
 You Recollect Our Talk One Sunday In the   Rain?" 
   
   
   
 "O Yes!"-- 
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 46 (Off And On) Pg 192 
   
 "That Set Me To Thinking; And The   More I Saw Of   You,--Yes, And Of   Mrs. 
 Armadale,--And The   More I Heard Of   You From Mrs. Barclay, The   More The 
 Conviction Forced itself Upon My Mind, That I Was Living, And Had 
 Always Lived, A Fool'S Life. That Was A Conclusion Easily Reached; But 
 How To Become Wise Was Another Matter. I Resolved to Give Myself To The 
 Study Till I Had Found The   Answer; And That I Might Do It 
 Uninterruptedly, I Betook Myself To The   Wilds Of   Canada, With Not Much 
 Baggage Beside My Gun And My Bible. I Hunted and Fished; But I Studied 
 More Than I Did Either. I Took Time For It Too. I Was Longing to See 
 You; But I Resolved this Subject Should Be Disposed of   First. And I 
 Gave Myself To It, Until It Was All Clear To Me. And Then I Made Open 
 Profession Of   My Belief, And Took Service As One Of   Christ'S Declared 
 Servants. That Was In montreal." 
   
   
   
 "In Montreal!" 
   
   
   
 "Yes." 
   
   
   
 "Why Did You Never Say Anything about It, Then?" 
   
   
   
 "I Am Not Accustomed to Talking on The   Subject, You Know. But, Really, 
 I Had A Reason. I Did Not Want To Seem To Propitiate Your Favour By Any 
 Such Means; I Wished to Try My Chances With You On My Own Merits; And 
 That Was Also A Reason Why I Made My Profession In montreal. I Wanted 
 To Do It Without Delay, It Is True; I Also Wanted to Do It Quietly. I 
 Mean Everybody Shall Know; But I Wished you To Be The   First." 
   
   
   
 There Followed a Silence. Things Rushed into And Over Lois'S Mind With 
 Such A Sweep And Confusion, That She Hardly Knew What She Was Thinking 
 Or Feeling. All Her Positions Were Knocked away; All Her Assumptions 
 Were Found Baseless; Her Defences Had Been Erected against Nothing; Her 
 Fears And Her Hopes Were Alike Come To Nought. That Is, _Bien Entendu_, 
 Her Old Fears And Her Old Hopes; And Amid The   Ruins Of   The   Latter New 
 Ones Were Starting, In equally Bewildering confusion. Like Little Green 
 Heads Of   Daffodils Pushing up Above The   Frozen Ground, And Fair 
 Blossoms Of   Hepatica Opening beneath A Concealing mat Of   Dead Leaves. 
 Ah, They Would Blossom Freely By And By; Now Lois Hardly Knew Where 
 They Were Or What They Were. 
   
   
   
 Seeing her Utterly Silent And Moveless, Mr. Dillwyn Did Probably The 
 Wisest Thing he Could Do, And Drove On. For Some Time The   Horses 
 Trotted and The   Bells Jingled; And By Too Swift Approaches That 
 Wilderness Of   Lights Which Marked the   City Suburb Came Nearer And 
 Nearer. When It Was Very Near And They Had Almost Entered it, He Drew 
 In His Reins Again And The   Horses Tossed their Heads And Walked. 
   
   
   
 "Lois, I Think It Is Fair I Should Have Another Answer To My Question 
 Now." 
   
   
   
 "What Question?" She Asked hurriedly. 
   
   
   
 "You Know, I Was So Daring as To Ask To Have The   Care Of   You For The 
 
 
 
 Chapter 46 (Off And On) Pg 193 
 Rest Of   Your Natural Life--Or Of   Mine. What Do You Say To It?" 
   
   
   
 Lois Said Nothing. She Could Not Find Words. Words Seemed to Tumble 
 Over One Another In her Mind,--Or Thoughts Did. 
   
   
   
 "What Answer Are You Going to Give Me?" He Asked again, More Gravely. 
   
   
   
 "You Know, Mr. Dillwyn," Said Lois Stammeringly, "I Never Thought,--I 
 Never Knew Before,--I Never Had Any Notion, That--That--That You 
 Thought So."-- 
   
   
   
 "Thought _So?_--About What?" 
   
   
   
 "About Me." 
   
   
   
 "I Have Thought So About You For A Great While." 
   
   
   
 Silence Again. The   Horses, Being by This Time Pretty Well Exercised, 
 Needed no Restraining, And Walked for Their Own Pleasure. Everything 
 With Lois Seemed to Be In a Whirl. 
   
   
   
 "And Now It Becomes Necessary To Know What You Think About Me," Mr. 
 Dillwyn Went On, After That Pause. 
   
   
   
 "I Am Very Glad--" Lois Said Tremulously. 
   
   
   
 "Of What?" 
   
   
   
 "That You Are A Christian." 
   
   
   
 "Yes, But," Said He, Half Laughing, "That Is Not The   Immediate Matter 
 In Hand. What Do You Think Of   Me In my Proposed character As Having the 
 Ownership And The   Care Of   You?" 
   
   
   
 "I Have Never Thought Of   You So," Lois Managed to Get Out. The   Words 
 Were Rather Faint, Heard, However, As Mr. Dillwyn'S Hand Came Just Then 
 Adjusting and Tucking in her Fur Robes, And His Face Was Thereby Near 
 Hers. 
   
   
   
 "And Now You _Do_ Think Of   Me So?--What Do You Say To Me?" 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 46 (Off And On) Pg 194 
 She Could Not Say Anything. Never In her Life Had Lois Been At A Loss 
 And Wrecked in all Self-Management Before. 
   
   
   
 "You Know, It Is Necessary To Say Something, That I May Know Where I 
 Stand. I Must Either Stay Or Go. Will You Send Me Away? Or Keep Me 'For 
 Good,' As The   Children Say?" 
   
   
   
 The Tone Was Not Without A Touch Of   Grave Anxiety Now, And Impatient 
 Earnestness, Which Lois Heard Well Enough And Would Have Answered; But 
 It Seemed as If Her Tongue Clave To The   Roof Of   Her Mouth. Mr. Dillwyn 
 Waited now For Her To Speak, Keeping the   Horses At A Walk, And Bending 
 Down A Little To Hear What She Would Say. One Sleigh Passed them, Then 
 Another. It Became Intolerable To Lois. 
   
   
   
 "I Do Not Want To Send You Away," She Managed finally To Say, Trembling. 
   
   
   
 The Words, However, Were Clear And Slow-Spoken, And Mr. Dillwyn Asked 
 No More Then. He Drove On, And Attended to His Driving, Even Went Fast; 
 And Lois Hardly Knew How Houses And Rocks And Vehicles Flew Past Them, 
 Till The   Reins Were Drawn At Mrs. Wishart'S Door. Philip Whistled; A 
 Groom Presently Appeared from The   House And Took The   Horses, And He 
 Lifted lois Out. As They Were Going up The   Steps He Asked softly, 
   
   
   
 "Is That _All_ You Are Going to Say To Me?" 
   
   
   
 "Isn'T It Enough For To-Night?" Lois Returned. 
   
   
   
 "I See You Think So," He Said, Half Laughing. "I Don'T; But, 
 However--Are You Going to Be Alone To-Morrow Morning, Or Will You Take 
 Another Sleigh Ride With Me?" 
   
   
   
 "Mrs. Wishart And Madge Are Going to Mme. Cisco'S _Matinée_." 
   
   
   
 "At What O'Clock?" 
   
   
   
 "They Will Leave Here At Half-Past Ten." 
   
   
   
 "Then I Will Be Here Before Eleven." 
   
   
   
 The Door Opened, And With A Grip Of   Her Hand He Turned away. 
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 47 (Plansn) Pg 195 
 Lois Went Along The   Hall In that Condition Of   The   Nerves In which The 
 Feet Seem To Walk Without Stepping on Anything. She Queried what Time 
 It Could Be; Was The   Evening half Gone? Or Had They Possibly Not Done 
 Tea Yet? Then The   Parlour Door Opened. 
   
   
   
 "Lois!--Is That You? Come Along; You Are Just In time; We Are At Tea. 
 Hurry, Now!" 
   
   
   
 Lois Went To Her Room, Wishing that She Could Any Way Escape Going to 
 The Table; She Felt As If Her Friend And Her Sister Would Read The   News 
 In Her Face Immediately, And Hear It In her Voice As Soon As She Spoke. 
 There Was No Help For It; She Hastened down, And Presently Perceived to 
 Her Wonderment That Her Friends Were Absolutely Without Suspicion. She 
 Kept As Quiet As Possible, And Found, Happily, That She Was Very 
 Hungry. Mrs. Wishart And Madge Were Busy In talk. 
   
   
   
 "You Remember Mr. Caruthers, Lois?" Said The   Former;--"Tom Caruthers, 
 Who Used to Be Here So Often?" 
   
   
   
 "Certainly." 
   
   
   
 "Did You Hear He Had Made A Great Match?" 
   
   
   
 "I Heard He Was Going to Be Married. I Heard That A Great While Ago." 
   
   
   
 "Yes, He Has Made A Very Great Match. It Has Been Delayed by The   Death 
 Of Her Mother; They Had To Wait. He Was Married a Few Months Ago, In 
 Florence. They Had A Splendid Wedding." 
   
   
   
 "What Makes What You Call A 'Great Match'?" Madge Asked. 
   
   
   
 "Money,--And Family." 
   
   
   
 "I Understand Money," Madge Went On; "But What Do You Mean By 'Family,' 
 Mrs. Wishart?" 
 
 
 
 Chapter 47 (Plansn) Pg 196 
   
   
 "My Dear, If You Lived in the   World, You Would Know. It Means Name, And 
 Position, And Standing. I Suppose At Shampuashuh You Are All Alike--One 
 Is As Good As Another." 
   
   
   
 "Indeed," Said Madge, "You Are Much Mistaken, Mrs. Wishart. We Think 
 One Is Much Better Than Another." 
   
   
   
 "Do You? Ah Well,--Then You Know What I Mean, My Dear. I Suppose The 
 World Is Really Very Much Alike In all Places; It Is Only The   Names Of 
 Things That Vary." 
   
   
   
 "In Shampuashuh," Madge Went On, "We Mean By A Good Family, A Houseful 
 Of Honest And Religious People." 
   
   
   
 "Yes, Madge," Said Lois, Looking up, "We Mean A Little More Than That. 
 We Mean A Family That Has Been Honest And Religious, And Educated too, 
 For A Long While--For Generations. We Mean As Much As That, When We 
 Speak Of   A Good Family." 
   
   
   
 "That'S Different," Said Mrs. Wishart Shortly. 
   
   
   
 "Different From What You Mean?" 
   
   
   
 "Different From What Is Meant Here, When We Use The   Term." 
   
   
   
 "You _Don'T_ Mean Anything honest And Religious?" Said Madge. 
   
   
   
 "O, Honest! My Dear, Everybody Is Honest, Or Supposed to Be; But We Do 
 Not Mean Religious." 
   
   
   
 "Not Religious, And Only Supposed to Be Honest!" Echoed madge. 
   
   
   
 "Yes," Said Mrs. Wishart. "It Isn'T That. It Has Nothing to Do With 
 That. When People Have Been In society, And Held High Positions For 
 Generation After Generation, It Is A Good Family. The   Individuals Need 
 Not Be All Good." 
   
   
   
 "Oh--!" Said Madge. 
   
   
   
 "No. I Know Families Among The   Very Best In the   State, That Have Been 
 Wicked enough; But Though They Have Been Wicked, That Did Not Hinder 
 Their Being gentlemen." 
 
 
 
 Chapter 47 (Plansn) Pg 197 
   
 "Oh--!" Said Madge Again. "I Begin To Comprehend." 
   
   
   
 "There Is Too Much Made Of   Money Now-A-Days," Mrs. Wishart Went On 
 Serenely; "And There Is No Denying that Money Buys Position. _I_ Do Not 
 Call A Good Family One That Was Not A Good Family A Hundred years Ago; 
 But Everybody Is Not So Particular. Not Here. They Are More Particular 
 In Philadelphia. In new York, Any Nobody Who Has Money Can Push Himself 
 Forward." 
   
   
   
 "What Sort Of   Family Is Mr. Dillwyn'S?" 
   
   
   
 "O, Good, Of   Course. Not Wealthy, Till Lately. They Have Been Poor, 
 Ever Since I Knew The   Family; Until The   Sister Married chauncey 
 Burrage, And Philip Came Into His Property." 
   
   
   
 "The Caruthers Are Rich, Aren'T They?" 
   
   
   
 "Yes." 
   
   
   
 "And Now The   Young One Has Made A Great Match? Is She Handsome?" 
   
   
   
 "I Never Heard So. But She Is Rolling in money." 
   
   
   
 "What Else Is She?" Inquired madge Dryly. 
   
   
   
 "She Is A Dulcimer." 
   
   
   
 "That Tells Me Nothing," Said Madge. "By The   Way You Speak It, The   Word 
 Seems To Have A Good Deal Of   Meaning for You." 
   
   
   
 "Certainly," Said Mrs. Wishart. "She Is One Of   The   Philadelphia 
 Dulcimers. It Is An Old Family, And They Have Always Been Wealthy." 
   
   
   
 "How Happy The   Gentleman Must Be!" 
   
   
   
 "I Hope So," Said Mrs. Wishart Gravely. "_You_ Used to Know Tom Quite 
 Well, Lois. What Did You Think Of   Him?" 
   
   
   
 "I Liked him," Said Lois. "Very Pleasant And Amiable, And Always 
 Gentlemanly. But I Did Not Think He Had Much Character." 
 
 
 
 Chapter 47 (Plansn) Pg 198 
   
 Mrs. Wishart Was Satisfied; For Lois'S Tone Was As Disengaged as 
 Anything could Possibly Be. 
   
   
   
 Lois Could Not Bring herself To Say Anything to Madge That Night About 
 The Turn In her Fortunes. Her Own Thoughts Were In too Much Agitation, 
 And Only By Slow Degrees Resolving themselves Into Settled conclusions. 
 Or Rather, For The   Conclusions Were Not Doubtful, Settling into Such 
 Quiet That She Could Look At Conclusions. And Lois Began To Be Afraid 
 To Do Even That, And Tried to Turn Her Eyes Away, And Thought Of   The 
 Hour Of   Half-Past Ten Next Morning with Trembling and Heart-Beating. 
   
   
   
 It Came With Tremendous Swiftness, Too. However, She Excused herself 
 From Going to The   _Matinée_, Though With Difficulty. Mrs. Wishart Was 
 Sure She Ought To Go; And Madge Tried persuasion And Raillery. Lois 
 Watched her Get Ready, And At Last Contentedly Saw The   Two Drive Off. 
 That Was Good. She Wanted no Discussion With Them Before She Had Seen 
 Mr. Dillwyn Again; And Now The   Coast Was Clear. But Then Lois Retreated 
 To Her Own Room Up-Stairs To Wait; She Could Not Stay In the 
 Drawing-Room, To Be Found There. She Would Have So Much Time For 
 Preparation As His Ring at The   Door And His Name Being brought 
 Up-Stairs Would Give Her. Preparation For What? When The   Summons Came, 
 Lois Went Down Feeling that She Had Not A Bit Of   Preparation. 
   
   
   
 Philip Was Standing in the   Middle Of   The   Floor, Waiting for Her; And 
 The Apparition That Greeted him Was So Unexpected that He Stood Still, 
 Feasting his Eyes With It. He Had Always Seen Lois Calm, Collected, 
 Moving and Speaking with Frank Independence, Although With Perfect 
 Modesty. Now?--How Was It? Eyes Cast Down, Colour Coming and Going; A 
 Look And Manner, Not Of   Shyness, For She Came Straight To Him, But Of 
 The Most Lovely Maidenly Consciousness; Of   All Things, That Which A 
 Lover Would Most Wish To See. Yet She Came Straight To Him, And As He 
 Met Her And Held Out His Hand, She Put Hers In it. 
   
   
   
 "What Are You Going to Say To Me This Morning, Lois?" He Said Softly; 
 For The   Pure Dignity Of   The   Girl Was A Thing to Fill Him With Reverence 
 As Well As With Delight, And Her Hand Seemed to Him Something sacred. 
   
   
   
 Her Colour Stirred again, But The   Lowered eyelids Were Lifted up, And 
 The Eyes Met His With A Most Blessed smile In them. 
   
   
   
 "I Am Very Happy, Mr. Dillwyn," She Said. 
   
   
   
 Everybody Knows How Words Fail Upon Occasion; And On This Occasion The 
 Silence Lasted some Considerable Time. And Then Philip Put Lois Into 
 One Of   The   Big Easy-Chairs, And Went Down On One Knee At Her Feet, 
 Holding her Hand. Lois Tried to Collect Her Spirits To Make 
 Remonstrance. 
   
   
   
 "O, Mr. Dillwyn, Do Not Stay There!" She Begged. 
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 47 (Plansn) Pg 199 
 "Why Not? It Becomes Me." 
   
   
   
 "I Do Not Think It Becomes You At All," Said Lois, Laughing a Little 
 Nervously,--"And I Am Sure It Does Not Become Me." 
   
   
   
 "Mistaken On Both Points! It Becomes Me Well, And I Think It Does Not 
 Become You Ill," Said He, Kissing the   Hand He Held. And Then, Bending 
 Forward To Carry His Kiss From The   Hand To The   Cheek,--"O My Darling, 
 How Long I Have Waited for This!" 
   
   
   
 "Long?" Said Lois, In surprise. How Pretty The   Incredulity Was On Her 
 Innocent Face. 
   
   
   
 "Very Long!--While You Thought I Was Liking somebody Else. There Has 
 Never Been Any Change In me, Lois. I Have Been Patiently And 
 Impatiently Waiting for You This Great While. You Will Not Think It 
 Unreasonable, If That Fact Makes Me Intolerant Of   Any More Waiting, 
 Will You?" 
   
   
   
 "Don'T Keep That Position!" Said Lois Earnestly. 
   
   
   
 "It Is The   Position I Mean To Keep All The   Rest Of   My Life!" 
   
   
   
 But That Set Lois To Laughing, A Little Nervously No Doubt, Yet So 
 Merrily That Philip Could Not But Join In. 
   
   
   
 "Do I Not Owe Everything to You?" He Went On Presently, With Tender 
 Seriousness. "You First Set Me Upon Thinking. Do You Recollect Your 
 Earliest Talk To Me Here In this Room Once, A Good While Ago, About 
 Being _Satisfied?_" 
   
   
   
 "Yes," Said Lois, Suddenly Opening her Eyes. 
   
   
   
 "That Was The   Beginning. You Said It To Me More With Your Looks Than 
 With Your Words; For I Saw That, Somehow, You Were In the   Secret, And 
 Had Yourself What You Offered to Me. _That_ I Could Not Forget. I Had 
 Never Seen Anybody 'Satisfied' Before." 
   
   
   
 "You Know What It Means Now?" She Said Softly. 
   
   
   
 "To-Day?-- I Do!" 
   
   
   
 "No, No; I Do Not Mean To-Day. You Know What I Mean!" She Said, With 
 Beautiful Blushes. 
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 47 (Plansn) Pg 200 
   
   
 "I Know. Yes, And I Have It, Lois. But You Have A Great Deal To Teach 
 Me Yet." 
   
   
   
 "O No!" She Said Most Unaffectedly. "It Is You Who Will Have To Teach 
 Me." 
   
   
   
 "What?" 
   
   
   
 "Everything." 
   
   
   
 "How Soon May I Begin?" 
   
   
   
 "How Soon?" 
   
   
   
 "Yes. You Do Not Think Mrs. Wishart'S House Is The   Best Place, Or Her 
 Company The   Best Assistance For That, Do You?" 
   
   
   
 "Ah, Please Get Up!" Said Lois. 
   
   
   
 But He Laughed at Her. 
   
   
   
 "You Make Me So Ashamed!" 
   
   
   
 "You Do Not Look It In the   Least. Shall I Tell You My Plans?" 
   
   
   
 "Plans!" Said Lois. 
   
   
   
 "Or Will You Tell Me Your Plans?" 
   
   
   
 "Ah, You Are Laughing at Me! What Do You Mean?" 
   
   
   
 "You Were Confiding to Me Your Plans Of   A Little While Ago; 
 Esterbrooke, And School, And All The   Rest Of   It. My Darling!--That'S 
 All Nowhere." 
   
   
   
 "But,"--Said Lois Timidly. 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 47 (Plansn) Pg 201 
 "Well?" 
   
   
   
 "_That_ Is All Gone, Of   Course. But--" 
   
   
   
 "You Will Let Me Say What You Shall Do?" 
   
   
   
 "I Suppose You Will." 
   
   
   
 "Your Hand Is In all My Plans, From Henceforth, To Turn Them And Twist 
 Them What Way You Like. But Now Let Me Tell You My Present Plans. We 
 Will Be Married, As Soon As You Can Accustom Your Self To The   Idea. 
 Hush!--Wait. You Shall Have Time To Think About It. Then, As Early As 
 Spring winds Will Let Us, We Will Cross To England." 
   
   
   
 "England?" Cried lois. 
   
   
   
 "Wait, And Hear Me Out. There We Will Look About Us A While And Get 
 Such Things As You May Want For Travelling, Which One Can Get Better In 
 England Than Anywhere Else. Then We Will Go Over The   Channel And See 
 Paris, And Perhaps Supplement Purchases There. So Work Our Way--" 
   
   
   
 "Always Making purchases?" Said Lois, Laughing, Though She Caught Her 
 Breath Too, And Her Colour Was Growing high. 
   
   
   
 "Certainly, Making purchases. So Work Our Way Along, And Get To 
 Switzerland Early In june--Say By The   End Of   The   First Week." 
   
   
   
 "Switzerland!" 
   
   
   
 "Don'T You Want To See Switzerland?" 
   
   
   
 "But It Is Not The   Question, What I Might Like To See." 
   
   
   
 "With Me It Is." 
   
   
   
 "As For That, I Have An Untirable Appetite For Seeing things. 
 But--But," And Her Voice Lowered, "I Can Be Quite Happy Enough On This 
 Side." 
   
   
   
 "Not If I Can Make You Happier On The   Other." 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 47 (Plansn) Pg 202 
 "But That Depends. I Should Not Be Happy Unless I Was Quite Sure It Was 
 Right, And The   Best Thing to Do; And It Looks To Me Like A Piece Of 
 Self-Indulgence. We Have So Much Already." 
   
   
   
 The Gentle Manner Of   This Scruple And Frank Admission Touched mr. 
 Dillwyn Exceedingly. 
   
   
   
 "I Think It Is Right," He Said. "Do You Remember My Telling you Once 
 About My Old House At Home?" 
   
   
   
 "Yes, A Little." 
   
   
   
 "I Think I Never Told You Much; But Now You Will Care To Hear. It Is A 
 Good Way From This Place, In foster County, And Not Very Far From A 
 Busy Little Manufacturing town; But It Stands Alone In the   Country, In 
 The Midst Of   Fields And Woods That I Used to Love Very Much When I Was 
 A Boy. The   Place Never Came Into My Possession Till About Seven Or 
 Eight Years Ago; And For Much Longer Than That It Has Been Neglected 
 And Left Without Any Sort Of   Care. But The   House Is Large And 
 Old-Fashioned, And Can Be Made Very Pretty; And The   Grounds, As I 
 Think, Leave Nothing to Be Desired, In their Natural Capabilities. 
 However, All Is In disorder, And Needs A Good Deal Of   Work Done Up On 
 It; Which Must Be Done Before You Take Possession. This Work Will 
 Require Some Months. Where Can We Be Better, Meanwhile, Than In 
 Switzerland?" 
   
   
   
 "Can The   Work Be Done Without You?" 
   
   
   
 "Yes." 
   
   
   
 He Waited a Bit. The   New Things At Work In lois'S Mind Made The   New 
 Expression Of   Manner And Feature A Most Delicious Study To Him. She Had 
 A Little Difficulty In speaking, And He Was Still And Watched her. 
   
   
   
 "I Am Afraid To Talk About It," She Said At Length, 
   
   
   
 "Why?" 
   
   
   
 "I Should Like It So Much!"-- 
   
   
   
 "Therefore You Doubt?" 
   
   
   
 "Yes. I Am Afraid Of   Listening just To My Own Pleasure." 
   
   
   
 "You Shall Not," Said He, Laughing. "Listen To Mine. I Want To See Your 
 
 
 
 Chapter 47 (Plansn) Pg 203 
 Eyes Open At The   Jung Frau, And Mont Blanc." 
   
   
   
 "My Eyes Open Easily At Anything," Said Lois, Yielding to The 
 Laugh;--"They Are Such Ignorant Eyes." 
   
   
   
 "Very Wise Eyes, On The   Contrary! For They Know A Thing when They See 
 It." 
   
   
   
 "But They Have Seen So Little," Said Lois, Finding it Impossible To Get 
 Back To A Serious Demeanour. 
   
   
   
 "That Sole Defect In your Character, I Propose To Cure." 
   
   
   
 "Ah, Do Not Praise Me!" 
   
   
   
 "Why Not? I Used to Rejoice In the   Remembrance That You Were Not An 
 Angel But Human. Do You Know The   Old Lines?-- 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
    'A Creature _Not_ Too Bright And Good 
    For Human Nature'S Daily Food; 
    For Transient Sorrows, Simple Wiles, 
    Praise, Blame, Love, Kisses, Tears And Smiles.' 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
 Only 'Wiles' You Never Descend To; 'Blame' Is Not To Be Thought Of; If 
 You Forbid Praise, What Is Left To Me But The   Rest Of   It?" 
   
   
   
 And Truly, What With Laughter And Some Other Emotions, Tears Were Not 
 Far From Lois'S Eyes; And How Could The   Kisses Be Wanting? 
   
   
   
 "I Never Heard You Talk So Before!" She Managed to Say. 
   
   
   
 "I Have Only Begun." 
   
   
   
 "Please Come Back To Order, And Sobriety." 
   
   
   
 "Sobriety Is Not In order, As Your Want Of   It Shows." 
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 47 (Plansn) Pg 204 
   
 "Then Come Back To Switzerland." 
   
   
   
 "Ah!--I Want You To Go Up The   Aeggischhorn, And To Stand On The   Görner 
 Grät, And To Cross A Pass Or Two; And I Want You To See The   Flowers." 
   
   
   
 "Are There So Many?" 
   
   
   
 "More Than On A Western Prairie In spring. Most People Travel In 
 Switzerland Later In the   Season, And So Miss The   Flowers. You Must Not 
 Miss Them." 
   
   
   
 "What Flowers Are They?" 
   
   
   
 "A Very Great Many Kinds. I Remember The   Gentians, And The 
 Forget-Me-Nots; But The   Profusion Is Wonderful, And Exceedingly Rich. 
 They Grow Just At The   Edge Of   The   Snow, Some Of   Them. Then We Will 
 Linger A While At Zermatt And Chamounix, And A Mountain _Pension_ Here 
 And There, And So Slowly Work Our Way Over Into Italy. It Will Be Too 
 Late For Rome; But We Will Go, If You Like It, To Venice; And Then, As 
 The Heats Grow Greater, Get Back Into The   Tyrol." 
   
   
   
 "O, Mrs. Barclay Had Beautiful Views From The   Tyrol; A Few, But Very 
 Beautiful." 
   
   
   
 "How Do You Like My Programme?" 
   
   
   
 "You Have Not Mentioned glaciers." 
   
   
   
 "Are You' Interested in glaciers?" 
   
   
   
 "_Very_ Much." 
   
   
   
 "You Shall See As Much Of   Them As You Can See Safely From Terra Firma." 
   
   
   
 "Are They So Dangerous?" 
   
   
   
 "Sometimes." 
   
   
   
 "But You Have Crossed them, Have You Not?" 
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 47 (Plansn) Pg 205 
   
 "Times Enough To Make Me Scruple About Your Doing it." 
   
   
   
 "I Am Very Sure-Footed." 
   
   
   
 He Kissed her Hand, And Inquired again What She Thought Of   His 
 Programme. 
   
   
   
 "There Is No Fault To Be Found With The   Programme. But--" 
   
   
   
 "If I Add To It The   Crossing of   A Glacier?" 
   
   
   
 "No, No," Said Lois, Laughing; "Do You Think I Am So Insatiable? But--" 
   
   
   
 "Would You Like It All, My Darling?" 
   
   
   
 "Like It? Don'T Speak Of   Liking," She Said, With A Quick Breath Of 
 Excitement. "But--" 
   
   
   
 "Well? But--What?" 
   
   
   
 "We Are Not Going to Live To Ourselves?" She Said It A Little Anxiously 
 And Eagerly, Almost Pleadingly. 
   
   
   
 "I Do Not Mean It," He Answered her, With A Smile. "But As To This 
 Journey My Mind Is Entirely Clear. It Will Take But A Few Months. And 
 While We Are Wandering over The   Mountains, You And I Will Take Our 
 Bibles And Study Them And Our Work Together. We Can Study Where We Stop 
 To Rest And Where We Stop To Eat; I Know By Experience What Good Times 
 And Places Those Are For Other Reading; And They Cannot Be So Good For 
 Any As For This." 
   
   
   
 "Oh! How Good!" Said Lois, Giving a Little Delighted and Grateful 
 Pressure To The   Hand In which Her Own Still Lay. 
   
   
   
 "You Agree To My Plans, Then?" 
   
   
   
 "I Agree To--Part. What Is That?"--For A Slight Noise Was Heard In the 
 Hall.--"O Philip, Get Up!--Get Up!--There Is Somebody Coming!" 
   
   
   
 Mr. Dillwyn Rose Now, Being bidden On This Wise, And Stood Confronting 
 The Doorway, In which Presently Appeared his Sister, Mrs. Burrage. He 
 Stood Quiet And Calm To Meet Her; While Lois, Hidden By The   Back Of   The 
 
 
 
 Chapter 47 (Plansn) Pg 206 
 Great Easy-Chair, Had A Moment To Collect Herself. He Shielded her As 
 Much As He Could. A Swift Review Of   The   Situation Made Him Resolve For 
 The Present To "Play Dark." He Could Not Trust His Sister, That If The 
 Truth Of   The   Case Were Suddenly Made Known To Her, She Would Not By Her 
 Speech, Or Manner, Or By Her Silence Maybe, Do Something that Would 
 Hurt Lois. He Would Not Risk It. Give Her Time, And She Would Fit 
 Herself To Her Circumstances Gracefully Enough, He Knew; And Lois Need 
 Never Be Told What Had Been Her Sister-In-Law'S First View Of   Them. So 
 He Stood, With An Unconcerned face, Watching mrs. Burrage Come Down The 
 Room. And She, It May Be Said, Came Slowly, Watching him. 
 
 
 
 Chapter 48 (Announcements) Pg 207 
   
 I Have Never Described mr. Dillwyn; And If I Try To Do It Now, I Am 
 Aware That Words Will Give To Nobody Else The   Image Of   Him. He Was Not 
 A Beauty, Like Tom Caruthers; Some People Declared him Not Handsome At 
 All, Yet They Were In a Minority. Certainly His Features Were Not 
 According to Classical Rule, And Criticism Might Find Something to Say 
 To Every One Of   Them; If I Except The   Shape And Air Of   The   Face And 
 Head, The   Set Of   The   Latter, And The   Rich Hair; Which, Very Dark In 
 Colour, Massed itself Thick And High On The   Top Of   The   Head, And Clung 
 In Close Thick Locks At The   Sides. The   Head Sat Nobly Upon The 
 Shoulders, And Correspondent Therewith Was The   Frank And Manly 
 Expression Of   The   Face. I Think Irregular Features Sometimes Make A 
 Better Whole Than Regular Ones. Philip'S Eyes Were Not Remarkable, 
 Unless For Their Honest And Spirited outlook; His Nose Was Neither 
 Roman Nor Grecian, And His Mouth Was Rather Large; However, It Was 
 Somewhat Concealed by The   Long Soft Moustache, Which He Wore After The 
 Fashion Of   Some Continentals (_N. B_., _Not_ Like The   French Emperor), 
 Carefully Dressed and With Points Turning up; And The   Mouth Itself Was 
 Both Manly And Pleasant. Altogether, The   People Who Denied mr. Dillwyn 
 The Praise Of   Beauty, Never Questioned that He Was Very Fine-Looking. 
 His Sister Was Excessively Proud Of   Him, And, Naturally Thought That 
 Nothing less Than The   Best Of   Everything--More Especially Of 
 Womankind--Was Good Enough For Him. She Was Thinking this Now, As She 
 Came Down The   Room, And Looking jealously To See Signs Of   What She 
 Dreaded, An Entanglement That Would Preclude For Ever His Having the 
 Best. Do Not Let Us Judge Her Hardly. What Sister Is Not Critical Of 
 Her Brother'S Choice Of   A Wife? If, Indeed, She Be Willing that He 
 Should Have A Wife At All. Mrs. Burrage Watched for Signs, But Saw 
 Nothing. Philip Stood There, Calmly Smiling at Her, Not At All 
 Flustered by Her Appearance. Lois Saw His Coolness Too, And Envied it; 
 Feeling that As A Man, And As A Man Of   The   World, He Had Greatly The 
 Advantage Of   Her. She Was Nervous, And Felt Flushed. However, There Is 
 A Power Of   Will In some Women Which Can Do A Great Deal, And Lois Was 
 Determined that Mr. Dillwyn Should Not Be Ashamed of   Her. By The   Time 
 It Was Needful For Her To Rise She Did Rise, And Faced her Visitor With 
 A Very Quiet And Perfectly Composed manner. Only, If Anything, It Was A 
 Trifle _Too_ Quiet; But Her Manner Was Other Wise Quite Faultless. 
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 48 (Announcements) Pg 208 
   
 "Philip!--" Said Mrs. Burrage, Advancing--"Good Morning--Miss Lothrop. 
 Philip, What Are You Doing here?" 
   
   
   
 "I Believe You Asked me That Question Once On A Former Occasion. Then, 
 I Think, I Had Been Making toast. Now, I Have Been Telling miss Lothrop 
 My Plans For The   Summer, Since She Was So Good As To Listen." 
   
   
   
 "Plans?" Repeated mrs. Burrage. "What Plans?" She Looked doubtfully 
 From One To The   Other Of   The   Faces Before Her. "Does He Tell You His 
 Plans, Miss Lothrop?" 
   
   
   
 "Won'T You Sit Down, Mrs. Burrage?" Said Lois. "I Am Always Interested 
 When Anybody Speaks Of   Switzerland." 
   
   
   
 "Switzerland!" Cried the   Lady, Sinking into A Chair, And Her Eyes Going 
 To Her Brother Again. "You Are Not Talking of   _Switzerland_ For Next 
 Summer?" 
   
   
   
 "Where Can One Be Better In summer?" 
   
   
   
 "But You Have Been There Ever So Many Times!" 
   
   
   
 "By Which I Know How Good It Will Be To Go Again." 
   
   
   
 "I Thought You Would Spend The   Summer With Me!" 
   
   
   
 "Where?" He Asked, With A Smile. 
   
   
   
 "Philip, I Wish You Would Dress Your Hair Like Other People." 
   
   
   
 "It Defies Dressing, Sister," He Said, Passing his Hand Over The   Thick 
 Mass. 
   
   
   
 "No, No, I Mean Your Moustache. When You Smile, It Gives You A Demoniac 
 Expression, Which Drives Me Out Of   All Patience. Miss Lothrop, Would He 
 Not Look A Great Deal Better If He Would Cut Off Those Hungarian 
 Twists, And Wear His Upper Lip Like A Christian?" 
   
   
   
 This Was A Trial! Lois Gave One Glance At The   Moustache In question, A 
 Glance Compounded of   Mingled horror And Amusement, And Flushed all 
 Over. Philip Saw The   Glance And Commanded his Features Only By A Strong 
 Exertion Of   Will, Remaining, However, To All Seeming as Impassive As A 
 Judge. 
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 48 (Announcements) Pg 209 
   
   
 "You Don'T Think So?" Said Mrs. Burrage. "Philip, Why Are You Not At 
 That Picture Sale This Minute, With Me?" 
   
   
   
 "Why Are You Not There, Let Me Ask, This Minute Without Me?" 
   
   
   
 "Because I Wanted you To Tell Me If I Should Buy In that Murillo." 
   
   
   
 "I Can Tell You As Well Here As There. What Do You Want To Buy It For?" 
   
   
   
 "What A Question! Why, They Say It Is A Genuine Murillo, And No Doubt 
 About It; And I Have Just One Place On The   Wall In my Second 
 Drawing-Room, Where Something is Wanting; There Is One Place Not Filled 
 Up, And It Looks Badly." 
   
   
   
 "And The   Murillo Is To Fill Up The   Vacant Space?" 
   
   
   
 "Yes. If You Say It Is Worth It." 
   
   
   
 "Worth What?" 
   
   
   
 "The Money. Five Hundred. But I Dare Say They Would Take Four, And 
 Perhaps Three. It Is A Real Murillo, They Say. Everybody Says." 
   
   
   
 "Jessie, I Think It Would Be Extravagance." 
   
   
   
 "Extravagance! Five Hundred dollars For A Murillo! Why, Everybody Says 
 It Is No Price At All." 
   
   
   
 "Not For The   Murillo; But For A Wall Panel, I Think It Is. What Do You 
 Say, Miss Lothrop, To Panelling a Room At Five Hundred dollars The 
 Panel?" 
   
   
   
 "Miss Lothrop'S Experience In panels Would Hardly Qualify Her To Answer 
 You," Mrs. Burrage Said, With A Polite Covert Sneer. 
   
   
   
 "Miss Lothrop Has Experience In some Other Things," Philip Returned 
 Immoveably. But The   Appeal Put Lois In great Embarrassment. 
   
   
   
 "What Is The   Picture?" She Asked, As The   Best Way Out Of   It. 
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 48 (Announcements) Pg 210 
   
 "It'S A St. Sebastian," Mrs. Burrage Answered shortly. 
   
   
   
 "Do You Know The   Story?" Asked philip. "He Was An Officer In the 
 Household Of   The   Roman Emperor, Diocletian; A Christian; And Discovered 
 To Be A Christian By His Bold And Faithful Daring in the   Cause Of 
 Truth. Diocletian Ordered him To Be Bound To A Tree And Shot To Death 
 With Arrows, And That The   Inscription Over His Head Should State That 
 There Was No Fault Found In him But Only That He Was A Christian. This 
 Picture My Sister Wants To Buy, Shows Him Stripped and Bound To The 
 Tree, And The   Executioner'S Work Going on. Arrows Are Piercing him In 
 Various Places; And The   Saint'S Face Is Raised to Heaven With The   Look 
 Upon It Of   Struggling pain And Triumphing faith Together. You Can See 
 That The   Struggle Is Sharp, And That Only Strength Which Is Not His Own 
 Enables Him To Hold Out; But You See That He Will Hold Out, And The 
 Martyr'S Palm Of   Victory Is Even Already Waving before Him." 
   
   
   
 Lois'S Eyes Eagerly Looked into Those Of   The   Speaker While He Went On; 
 Then They Fell Silently. Mrs. Burrage Grew Impatient. 
   
   
   
 "You Tell It With A Certain _Goût_," She Said. "It'S A Horrid Story!" 
   
   
   
 "O, It'S A Beautiful Story!" Said Lois, Suddenly Looking up. 
   
   
   
 "If You Like Horrors," Said The   Lady, Shrugging her Shoulders. "But I 
 Believe You Are One Of   That Kind Yourself, Are You Not?" 
   
   
   
 "Liking horrors?" Said Lois, In astonishment. 
   
   
   
 "No, No, Of   Course! Not That. But I Mean, You Are One Of   That Saint'S 
 Spiritual Relations. Are You Not? You Would Rather Be Shot Than Live 
 Easy?" 
   
   
   
 Philip Bit His Lip; But Lois Answered with The   Most Delicious 
 Simplicity,-- 
   
   
   
 "If Living easy Implied living unfaithful, I Hope I Would Rather Be 
 Shot." Her Eyes Looked, As She Spoke, Straight And Quietly Into Those 
 Of Her Visitor. 
   
   
   
 "And I Hope I Would," Added philip. 
   
   
   
 "_You?_" Said His Sister, Turning sharp Upon Him. "Everybody Knows You 
 Would!" 
   
   
   
 "But Everybody Does Not Know Yet That I Am A Fellow-Servant Of   That 
 Sebastian Of   Long Ago; And That To Me Now, Faithful And Unfaithful Mean 
 
 
 
 Chapter 48 (Announcements) Pg 211 
 The Same That They Meant To Him. Not Faithfulness To Man, But 
 Faithfulness To God--Or Unfaithfulness." 
   
   
   
 "Philip!--" 
   
   
   
 "And As Faithfulness Is A Word Of   Large Comprehension, It Takes In also 
 The Use Of   Money," Mr. Dillwyn Went On Smiling; "And So, Jessie, I 
 Think, You See, With My New Views Of   Things, That Five Hundred dollars 
 Is Too Much For A Panel." 
   
   
   
 "Or For A Picture, I Suppose!" Said Mrs. Burrage, With Dry Concentrated 
 Expression. 
   
   
   
 "Depends. Decidedly Too Much For A Picture Not Meant To Be Looked at?" 
   
   
   
 "Why Shouldn'T It Be Looked at?" 
   
   
   
 "People Will Not Look Much At What They Cannot Understand." 
   
   
   
 "Why Shouldn'T They Understand It?" 
   
   
   
 "It Is A Representation Of   Giving up All For Christ, And Of 
 Faithfulness Unto Death. What Do The   Crowds Who Fill Your Second 
 Drawing-Room Know About Such Experience?" 
   
   
   
 Mrs. Burrage Had Put The   Foregoing questions Dryly And Shortly, 
 Examining her Brother While He Spoke, With Intent, Searching eyes. She 
 Had Risen Once As If To Go, And Now Sat Down Again. Lois Thought She 
 Even Turned pale. 
   
   
   
 "Philip!--I Never Heard You Talk So Before. What Do You Mean?" 
   
   
   
 "Merely To Let You Know That I Am A Christian. It Is Time." 
   
   
   
 "You Were Always A Christian!" 
   
   
   
 "In Name. Now It Is Reality." 
   
   
   
 "You Don'T Mean That You--_You!_--Have Become One Of   Those Fanatics?" 
   
   
   
 "What Fanatics?" 
 
 
 
 Chapter 48 (Announcements) Pg 212 
   
   
   
 "Those People Who Give Up Everything for Religion, And Are Insane Upon 
 The Subject." 
   
   
   
 "You Could Not Have Described it Better, Than In the   First Half Of   Your 
 Speech. I Have Given Up Everything for Religion. That Is, I Have Given 
 Myself And All I Have To Christ And His Service; And Whatever I Do 
 Henceforth, I Do Only In that Character And In that Interest. But As To 
 Sanity,"--He Smiled again,--"I Think I Was Never Sane Until Now." 
   
   
   
 Mrs. Burrage Had Risen For The   Second Time, And Her Brother Was Now 
 Standing opposite To Her; And If She Had Been Proud Of   Him A Little 
 While Before, It Was Lois'S Turn Now. The   Calm, Clear Frankness And 
 Nobleness Of   His Face And Bearing made Her Heart Fairly Swell With Its 
 Gladness And Admiration; But It Filled the   Other Woman'S Heart With A 
 Different Feeling. 
   
   
   
 "And This Is You, Philip Dillwyn!" She Said Bitterly. "And I Know You; 
 What You Have Said You Will Stand To. Such A Man As You! Lost To The 
 World!" 
   
   
   
 "Why Lost To The   World, Mrs. Burrage?" Said Lois Gently. She Had Risen 
 Too. The   Other Lady Faced her. 
   
   
   
 "Without More Knowledge Of   What The   World Is, I Could Hardly Explain To 
 You," She Said, With Cool Rudeness; The   Sort Of   Insolence That A Fine 
 Lady Can Use Upon Occasion When It Suits Her. Philip'S Face Flushed, 
 But He Would Not Make The   Rudeness More Palpable By Seeming to Notice 
 It. 
   
   
   
 "I Hope It Is The   Other Way," He Said. "I Have Been An Idle Man All My 
 Life Hitherto, And Have Done Nothing except For Myself. Nobody Could Be 
 Of Less Use To The   World." 
   
   
   
 "And What Are You Going to Do Now?" 
   
   
   
 "I Cannot Tell. I Shall Find Out. I Am Going to Study The   Question." 
   
   
   
 "And Is Miss Lothrop Your Teacher?" 
   
   
   
 The Civil Sneer Was Too Apparent Again, But It Did Not Call Up A Flush 
 This Time. Philip Was Too Angry. It Was Lois That Answered, And 
 Pleasantly,-- 
   
   
   
 "She Does Not Even Wish To Be That." 
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 48 (Announcements) Pg 213 
   
 "Haven'T You Taught Him Already?" Asked the   Lady, With Prompt 
 Inquisition. 
   
   
   
 "Yes," Said Philip. 
   
   
   
 Lois Did Colour Now; She Could Not Deny The   Fact, Nor Even Declare That 
 It Had Been An Unintentional Fact; But Her Colour Was Very Pretty, And 
 So Was The   Sort Of   Deprecating way In which She Looked at Her Future 
 Sister-In-Law. Not Disarmed, Mrs. Burrage Went On. 
   
   
   
 "It Is A Dangerous Office To Take, My Dear, For We Women Never Can Keep 
 It. We May Think We Stand On An Eminence Of   Wisdom One Day; And The 
 Next We Find We Have To Come Down To A Very Lowly Place, And Sit At 
 Somebody Else'S Feet, And Receive Our Orders. I Find It Rather Hard 
 Sometimes. Well, Philip,--Will You Go On With The   Lesson I Suppose I 
 Have Interrupted? Or Will You Have The   Complaisance To Go With Me To 
 See About The   Murillo?" 
   
   
   
 "I Will Certainly Stay." 
   
   
   
 "Rather Hard Upon Me, After Promising me Last Night You Would Go." 
   
   
   
 "I Made No Such Promise." 
   
   
   
 "Indeed you Did, Begging your Pardon. Last Night, When You Came Home 
 With The   Horses, I Told You Of   The   Sale, And Asked you If You Would Go 
 And See That I Did Not Get Cheated." 
   
   
   
 "I Have No Recollection Of   It." 
   
   
   
 "And You Said You Would With Pleasure." 
   
   
   
 "_That_ Is No Longer Possible, Jessie. And The   Sale Would Be Over 
 Before We Could Get To It," He Added, Looking at His Watch. 
   
   
   
 "Shall I Leave You Here, Then?" Said The   Lady, With A Mingling of 
 Disagreeable Feelings Which Found Indescribable Expression. 
   
   
   
 "If Miss Lothrop Will Let Me Be Left. You Forget, It Depends Upon Her 
 Permission." 
   
   
   
 "Miss Lothrop," Said The   Lady, Offering her Hand To Lois With Formal 
 Politeness, "I Do Not Ask You The   Question, For My Brother All His Life 
 Has Never Been Refused anything he Chose To Demand. Pardon Me My Want 
 
 
 
 Chapter 48 (Announcements) Pg 214 
 Of Attention; He Is Responsible For It, Having upset All My Ideas With 
 His Strange Announcements. Good-Bye!" 
   
   
   
 Lois Curtseyed silently. In all This Dialogue, The   Contrast Had Been 
 Striking between The   Two Ladies; For The   Advantage Of   Manner Had Been 
 On The   Side, Not Of   The   Experienced woman Of   The   World, But Of   The 
 Younger And Simpler And Country-Bred little Shampuashuh Woman. It Comes 
 To This; That The   Thirteenth Chapter Of   First Corinthians Gives One The 
 Very Soul And Essence Of   What In the   World Is Called good Breeding; The 
 Kernel And Thing itself; While What Is For The   Most Part Known In 
 Society Is The   Empty Shell, Simulating and Counterfeiting it Only. 
 Therefore He In whose Heart That Thirteenth Chapter Is A Living truth, 
 Will Never Be Ill-Bred; And If He Possesses Besides A Sensitive And 
 Refined nature, And Is Free Of   Self-Consciousness, And Has Some Common 
 Sense To Boot, He Has All The   Make-Up Of   The   Veriest High-Breeding. 
 Nothing could Seem More Unruffled, Because Nothing could Be More 
 Unruffled, Than Lois During this Whole Interview; She Was Even A Little 
 Sorry For Mrs. Burrage, Knowing that The   Lady Would Be Very Sorry 
 Herself Afterwards For What She Had Done; And Lois Meant To Bury It In 
 Perfect Oblivion. So Her Demeanour Was Free, Simple, Dignified, Most 
 Graceful; And Philip Was Penetrated with Delight And Shame At Once. He 
 Went With His Sister To Put Her In her Carriage, Which Was Done With 
 Scarce Any Words On Either Part; And Then Returned to The   Room Where He 
 Had Left Lois. She Was Still Standing beside Her Chair, Having in truth 
 Her Thoughts Too Busy To Remember To Sit Down. Philip'S Action Was To 
 Come Straight To Her And Fold His Arms Round Her. They Were Arms Of 
 Caressing and Protection At Once; Lois Felt Both The   Caressing and The 
 Protecting clasp, As Something her Life Had Never Known Before; And A 
 Thrill Went Through Her Of   Happiness That Was Almost Mingled with Awe. 
   
   
   
 "My Darling!"--Said Philip--"Will You Hold Me Responsible? Will You 
 Charge It All Upon Me?--And Let Me Make It Good As Best I Can?" 
   
   
   
 "O Philip, There Is Nothing to Charge!" Said Lois, Lifting her Flushed 
 Face, "Fair As The   Moon," To Meet His Anxious Eyes. "Do Not Think Of   It 
 Again. It Is Perfectly Natural, From Her Point Of   View. You Know, You 
 Are Very Much Somebody; And I--Am Nobody." 
   
   
   
 The Remainder Of   The   Interview May Be Left Unreported. 
   
   
   
 It Lasted till The   Two Ladies Returned from The   _Matinée_. Mrs. Wishart 
 Immediately Retained mr. Dillwyn For Luncheon, And The   Two Girls Went 
 Up-Stairs Together. 
   
   
   
 "How Long Has That Man Been Here?" Was Madge'S Disrespectful Inquiry. 
   
   
   
 "I Don'T Know." 
   
   
   
 "What Did He Come For?" 
   
   
   
 "I Suppose--To See Me." 
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 48 (Announcements) Pg 215 
   
 "To See _You!_ Did He Come To Take You Sleigh-Riding again?" 
   
   
   
 "He Said Nothing about Sleigh-Riding." 
   
   
   
 "The Snow Is All Slush Down In the   City. What Did He Want To See You 
 For, Then?" Said Madge, Turning round Upon Her Sister, While At The 
 Same Time She Was Endeavouring to Extricate Her Head From Her Bonnet, 
 Which Was Caught Upon A Pin. 
   
   
   
 "He Had Something to Say To Me," Lois Answered, Trembling with An Odd 
 Sort Of   Excitement. 
   
   
   
 "What?--Lois, Not _That?_" Cried madge, Stopping with Her Bonnet Only 
 Half Off Her Head. But Lois Nodded; And Madge Dropped herself Into The 
 Nearest Chair, Making no Further Effort As Regarded the   Bonnet. 
   
   
   
 "Lois!--What Did You Say To Him?" 
   
   
   
 "What Could I Say To Him?" 
   
   
   
 "Why, Two Or Three Things, _I_ Should Think. If It Was I, I Should 
 Think So." 
   
   
   
 "There Can Be But One Answer To Such A Question. It Must Be Yes Or No." 
   
   
   
 "I Am Sure That'S Two To Choose From. Have You Gone And Said Yes To 
 That Man?" 
   
   
   
 "Don'T You Like Him?" Said Lois, With A Furtive Smile, Glancing up At 
 Her Sister Now From Under Lowered eyelids. 
   
   
   
 "Like Him! I Never Saw The   Man Yet, That I Liked as Well As My Liberty." 
   
   
   
 "Liberty!" 
   
   
   
 "Yes. Have You Forgotten Already What That Means? O Lois! Have You Said 
 Yes To That Man? Why, I Am Always Afraid Of   Him, Every Time I See Him." 
   
   
   
 "_Afraid_ Of   Him?" 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 48 (Announcements) Pg 216 
 "Yes. I Get Over It After He Has Been In the   Room A While; But The   Next 
 Time I See Him It Comes Back. O Lois! Are You Going to Let Him Have 
 You?" 
   
   
   
 "Madge, You Are Talking most Dreadful Nonsense. You Never Were Afraid 
 Of Anybody In your Life; And Of   Him Least Of   All." 
   
   
   
 "Fact, Though," Said Madge, Beginning at Her Bonnet Again. "It'S The 
 Way His Head Is Set On His Shoulders, I Suppose. If I Had Known What 
 Was Happening, While I Was Listening to Mme. Cisco'S Screeching!"-- 
   
   
   
 "You Couldn'T Have Helped it." 
   
   
   
 "And Now, Now, Actually You Belong To Somebody Else! Lois, When Are You 
 Going to Be Married?" 
   
   
   
 "I Don'T Know." 
   
   
   
 "Not For A Great While? Not _Soon_, At Any Rate?" 
   
   
   
 "I Don'T Know. Mr. Dillwyn Wishes--" 
   
   
   
 "And Are You Going to Do Everything he Wishes?" 
   
   
   
 "As Far As I Can," Said Lois, With Again A Rosy Smile And Glance. 
   
   
   
 "There'S The   Call To Luncheon!" Said Madge. "People Must Eat, If 
 They'Re Ever So Happy Or Ever So Unhappy. It Is One Of   The   Disgusting 
 Things About Human Nature. I Just Wish He Wasn'T Going to Be Here. 
 Well--Come Along!" 
   
   
   
 Madge Went Ahead Till She Reached the   Drawing-Room Door; There She 
 Suddenly Paused, Waved herself To One Side, And Let Lois Go In before 
 Her. Lois Was Promptly Wrapped in mrs. Wishart'S Arms, And Had To 
 Endure A Most Warm And Heartfelt Embracing and Congratulating. The   Lady 
 Was Delighted. Meanwhile Madge Found Herself Shaking hands With Philip. 
   
   
   
 "You Know All About It?" He Said, Looking hard At Her, And Holding her 
 Hand Fast. 
   
   
   
 "If You Mean What Lois Has Told Me--" 
   
   
   
 "Are Not You Going to Wish Me Joy?" 
 
 
 
 Chapter 48 (Announcements) Pg 217 
   
   
 "There Is No Occasion--For Anybody Who Has Got Lois," Said Madge. And 
 Then She Choked, Pulled her Hand Away, And Broke Down. And When Lois 
 Got Free From Mrs. Wishart, She Saw Madge Sitting with Her Head In her 
 Hands, And Mr. Dillwyn Bending over Her. Lois Came Swiftly Behind And 
 Put Both Arms Softly Around Her Sister. 
   
   
   
 "It'S No Use!" Said Madge, Sobbing and Yet Defiant. "He Has Got You, 
 And I Haven'T Got You Any Longer. Let Me Alone--I Am Not Going to Be A 
 Fool, But To Be Asked to Wish Him Joy Is Too Much." And She Broke Away 
 And Ran Off. 
   
   
   
 Lois Could Have Followed her With All Her Heart; But She Had Herself 
 Habitually Under Better Control Than Madge, And Knew With Fine Instinct 
 What Was Due To Others. Her Eyes Glistened; Nevertheless Her Bearing 
 Was Quiet And Undisturbed; And A Second Time To-Day Mr. Dillwyn Was 
 Charmed with The   Grace Of   Her Manner. I Must Add That Madge Presently 
 Made Her Appearance Again, And Was Soon As Gay As Usual; Her 
 Lucubrations Even Going so Far Before The   End Of   Luncheon As To Wonder 
 _Where_ Lois Would Hold Her Wedding. Will She Fetch All The   Folks Down 
 Here? Thought Madge. Or Will Everybody Go To Shampuashuh? 
   
   
   
 With The   Decision, However, The   Reader Need not Be Troubled. 
   
   
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 49 (On The Pass) Pg 218 
   
 Only One Incident More Need be Told. It Is The   Last Point In my Story. 
   
   
   
 The Intermediate Days And Months Must Be Passed over, And We Skip The 
 Interval To The   Summer And June. It Is Now The   Middle Of   June. Mr. 
 Dillwyn'S Programme Had Been Successfully Carried out; And, After An 
 Easy And Most Festive Journey From England, Through France, He And Lois 
 Had Come By Gentle Stages To Switzerland. A Festive Journey, Yes; But 
 The Expression Regards The   Mental Progress Rather Than The   Apparent. 
 Mr. Dillwyn, Being an Old Traveller, Took Things With The   Calm Habit Of 
 Use And Wont; And Lois, New As All Was To Her, Made No More Fussy 
 Demonstration Than He Did. All The   More Delicious To Him, And 
 Satisfactory, Were The   Sparkles In her Eyes And The   Flushes On Her 
 Cheeks, Which Constantly Witnessed to Her Pure Delight Or Interest In 
 Something. All The   More Happily He Felt The   Grasp Of   Her Hand Sometimes 
 When She Did Not Speak; Or Listened to The   Low Accents Of   Rapture When 
 
 
 
 Chapter 49 (On The Pass) Pg 219 
 She Saw Something that Deserved them; Or To Her Merry Soft Laugh At 
 Something that Touched her Sense Of   Fun. For He Found Lois Had A Great 
 Sense Of   Fun. She Was Altogether Of   The   Most Buoyant, Happy, And 
 Enjoying nature Possible. No One Could Be A Better Traveller. She 
 Ignored discomforts (Truly There Had Not Been Much In that Line), And 
 She Laughed at Disappointments; And Travellers Must Meet 
 Disappointments Now And Then. So Mr. Dillwyn Had Found The   Journey 
 Giving him All He Had Promised himself; And To Lois It Gave--Well 
 Lois'S Dreams Had Never Promised her The   Quarter. 
   
   
   
 So It Had Come To Be The   Middle Of   June, And They Were In switzerland. 
 And This Day, The   Sixteenth, Found Them In a Little Wayside Inn Near 
 The Top Of   A Pass, Snowed up. So Far They Had Come, The   Last Mile Or 
 Two Through A Heavy Storm; And Then The   Snow Clouds Had Descended so 
 Low And So Thick, And Gave Forth Their Treasures Of   Snow-Flakes So 
 Confusedly And Incessantly, That Going on Was Not To Be Thought Of. 
 They Were Sheltered in the   Little Inn; And That Is Nearly All You Could 
 Say Of   It, For The   Accommodations Were Of   The   Smallest And Simplest. 
 Travellers Were Not Apt To Stop At That Little Hostelry For More Than A 
 Passing refreshment; And Even So, It Was Too Early In the   Season For 
 Many Travellers To Be Expected. So There Were Philip And His Wife Now, 
 Making the   Best Of   Things. Mr. Dillwyn Was Coaxing the   Little Fire To 
 Burn, Which Had Been Hastily Made On Their Arrival; But Lois Sat At One 
 Of The   Windows Looking out, And Every Now And Then Proclaiming her 
 Enjoyment By The   Tone In which Some Innocent Remark Came From Her Lips. 
   
   
   
 "It Is Raining now, Philip." 
   
   
   
 "What Do You See In the   Rain?" 
   
   
   
 "Nothing whatever, At This Minute; But A Little While Ago There Was A 
 Kind Of   Drawing aside Of   The   Thick Curtain Of   Falling snow, And I Had A 
 View Of   Some Terribly Grand Rocks, And One Glimpse Of   A Most Wonderful 
 Distance." 
   
   
   
 "Vague Distance?" Said Philip, Laughing. "That Sounds Like Looking off 
 Into Space." 
   
   
   
 "Well, It Was. Like Chaos, And Order Struggling out Of   Its Awful 
 Beginnings." 
   
   
   
 "Don'T Unpractically Catch Cold, While You Are Studying natural 
 Developement." 
   
   
   
 "I Am Perfectly Warm. I Think It Is Great Fun To Be Kept Here Over 
 Night. Such A Nice Little Place As It Is, And Such A Nice Little 
 Hostess. Do You Notice How Neat Everything is? O Philip!--Here Is 
 Somebody Else Coming!" 
   
   
   
 "Coming to The   Inn?" 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 49 (On The Pass) Pg 220 
 "Yes. O, I'M Afraid So. Here'S One Of   These Original Little Carriages 
 Crawling along, And It Has Stopped, And The   People Are Getting out. 
 Poor Storm-Stayed people, Like Ourselves." 
   
   
   
 "They Will Come To A Fire, Which We Didn'T," Said Philip, Leaving his 
 Post Now And Placing himself At The   Back Of   Lois'S Chair, Where He Too 
 Could See What Was Going on In front Of   The   House. A Queer Little 
 Vehicle Had Certainly Stopped there, And Somebody Very Much Muffled had 
 Got Out, And Was Now Helping a Second Person To Alight, Which Second 
 Person Must Be A Woman; And She Was Followed by Another Woman, Who 
 Alighted with Less Difficulty And Less Attention, Though She Had Two Or 
 Three Things To Carry. 
   
   
   
 "I Pity Women Who Travel In the   Alps With Their Maids!" Said Mr. 
 Dillwyn. 
   
   
   
 "Philip, That First One, The   Gentleman, Had A Little Bit--Just A Little 
 Bit--The Air Of   Your Friend, Mr. Caruthers. He Was So Muffled up, One 
 Could Not Tell What He Was Like; But Somehow He Reminded me Of   Mr. 
 Caruthers." 
   
   
   
 "I Thought Tom Was _Your_ Friend?" 
   
   
   
 "Friend? No. He Was An Acquain'Tance; He Was Never My Friend, I Think." 
   
   
   
 "Then His Name Raises No Tender Associations In your Mind?" 
   
   
   
 "Why, No!" Said Lois, With A Gay Little Laugh. "No, Indeed. But I Liked 
 Him Very Well At One Time; And I--_Think_--He Liked me." 
   
   
   
 "Poor Tom!" 
   
   
   
 "Why Do You Say That?" Lois Asked merrily. "He Is Not Poor; He Has 
 Married a Dulcimer. I Never Can Hear Her Name Without Thinking of 
 Nebuchadnezzar'S Image! He Has Forgotten Me Long Ago." 
   
   
   
 "I See You Have Forgotten Him," Said Dillwyn, Bending down Till His 
 Face Was Very Near Lois'S. 
   
   
   
 "How Should I Not? But I Did Like Him At One Time, Quite Well. I 
 Suppose I Was Flattered by His Attentions, Which I Think Were Rather 
 Marked. And You Know, At That Time I Did Not Know You." 
   
   
   
 Lois'S Voice Fell A Little; The   Last Sentence Being given With A 
 Delicate, Sweet Reserve, Which Spoke Much More Than Effusion. Philip'S 
 Answer Was Mute. 
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 49 (On The Pass) Pg 221 
   
   
 "Besides," Said Lois, "He Is A Sort Of   Man That I Never Could Have 
 Liked beyond A Certain Point. He Is A Weak Character; Do You Know It, 
 Philip?" 
   
   
   
 "I Know It. I Observe, That Is The   Last Fault Women Will Forgive In a 
 Man." 
   
   
   
 "Why Should They?" Said Lois. "What Have You, Where You Have Not 
 Strength? It Is Impossible To Love Where You Cannot Respect. Or If You 
 Love, It Is A Poor Contemptible Sort Of   Love." 
   
   
   
 Philip Laughed; And Just Then The   Door Opened, And The   Hostess Of   The 
 Inn Appeared on The   Threshhold, With Other Figures Looming dimly Behind 
 Her. She Came In apologizing. More Storm-Bound Travellers Had 
 Arrived--There Was No Other Room With A Fire Ready--Would Monsieur And 
 Madame Be So Gracious And Allow The   Strangers To Come In and Get Warm 
 And Dry By Their Fire? Almost Before She Had Finished her Speech The 
 Two Men Had Sprung Towards Each Other, And "Tom!"--"Philip 
 Diliwyn!"--Had Been Cried in different Tones Of   Surprised greeting. 
   
   
   
 "Where Did You Come From?" Said Tom, Shaking his Friend'S Hand. "What A 
 Chance! Here Is My Wife. Arabella, This Is Mr. Dillwyn, Whose Name You 
 Have Heard Often Enough. At The   Top Of   This Pass!--" 
   
   
   
 The Lady Thus Addressed came In behind Tom, Throwing off Her Wrappings, 
 And Throwing each, Or Dropping it As It Was Taken Off, Into The   Hands 
 Of Her Attendant Who Followed her. She Appeared now To Be A Slim 
 Person, Of   Medium Height, Dressed very Handsomely, With An 
 Insignificant Face, And A Quantity Of   Light Hair Disposed in a 
 Mysterious Manner To Look Like A Wig. That Is, It Looked like Nothing 
 Natural, And Yet Could Not Be Resolved by The   Curious Eye Into Bands Or 
 Braids Or Any Defined form Of   Fashionable Art Or Artifice. The   Face 
 Looked fretted, And Returned mr. Dillwyn'S Salutation Discontentedly. 
 Tom'S Eye Meanwhile Had Wandered, With An Unmistakeable Air Of 
 Apprehension, Towards The   Fourth Member Of   The   Party; And Lois Came 
 Forward Now, Giving him A Frank Greeting, And Holding out Her Hand. Tom 
 Bowed very Low Over It, Without Saying one Word; And Philip Noted that 
 His Eye Shunned lois'S Face, And That His Own Face Was All Shadowed 
 When He Raised it. Mr. Dillwyn Put Himself In between. 
   
   
   
 "May I Present My Wife, Mrs. Caruthers?" 
   
   
   
 Mrs. Caruthers Gave Lois A Look, Swift And Dissatisfied, And Turned to 
 The Fire, Shivering. 
   
   
   
 "Have We Got To Stay Here?" She Asked querulously. 
   
   
   
 "We Couldn'T Go On, You Know," Said Tom. "We May Be Glad Of   Any Sort Of 
 A Shelter. I Am Afraid We Are Interfering with Your Comfort, Philip; 
 But Really, We Couldn'T Help It. The   Storm'S Awful Outside. Mrs. 
 Caruthers Was Sure We Should Be Overtaken By An Avalanche; And Then She 
 
 
 
 Chapter 49 (On The Pass) Pg 222 
 Was Certain There Must Be A Crevasse Somewhere. I Wonder If One Can Get 
 Anything to Eat In this Place?" 
   
   
   
 "Make Yourself Easy; They Have Promised us Dinner, And You Shall Share 
 With Us. What The   Dinner Will Be, I Cannot Say; But We Shall Not 
 Starve; And You See What A Fire I Have Coaxed up For You. Take This 
 Chair, Mrs. Caruthers." 
   
   
   
 The Lady Sat Down And Hovered over The   Fire; And Tom Restlessly Bustled 
 In And Out. Mr. Diliwyn Tended the   Fire, And Lois Kept A Little In the 
 Background. Till, After An Uncomfortable Interval, The   Hostess Came In, 
 Bringing the   Very Simple Fare, Which Was All She Had To Set Before 
 Them. Brown Bread, And Cheese, And Coffee, And A Common Sort Of   Red 
 Wine; With A Bit Of   Cold Salted meat, The   Precise Antecedents Of   Which 
 It Was Not So Easy To Divine. The   Lady By The   Fire Looked on 
 Disdainfully, And Tom Hastened to Supplement Things From Their Own 
 Stores. Cold Game, White Bread, And Better Wine Were Produced from 
 Somewhere, With Hard-Boiled eggs And Even Some Fruit. Mrs. Caruthers 
 Sat By The   Fire And Looked on; While Tom Brought These Articles, One 
 After Another, And Lois Arranged the   Table. Philip Watched her 
 Covertly; Admired her Lithe Figure In its Neat Mountain Dress, Which He 
 Thought Became Her Charmingly; Admired the   Quiet, Delicate Tact Of   Her 
 Whole Manner And Bearing; The   Grace With Which She Acted and Spoke, As 
 Well As The   Pretty Deftness Of   Her Ministrations About The   Table. She 
 Was Taking the   Part Of   Hostess, And Doing it With Simple Dignity; And 
 He Was Very Sorry For Tom. Tom, He Observed, Would Not See Her When He 
 Could Help It. But They Had To All Gather Round The   Table Together And 
 Face Each Other Generally. 
   
   
   
 "This Is Improper Luxury For The   Mountains," Dillwyn Said. 
   
   
   
 "Mrs. Caruthers Thinks It Best To Be Always Provided for Occasions. 
 These Small Houses, You Know, They Can'T Give You Any But Small Fare." 
   
   
   
 "Small Fare Is Good For You!" 
   
   
   
 "Good For _You_," Said Tom,--"All Right; But My--Arabella Cannot Eat 
 Things If They Are _Too_ Small. That Cheese, Now!--" 
   
   
   
 "It Is Quite Passable." 
   
   
   
 "Where Are You Going, Philip?" 
   
   
   
 "Bound For The   Aeggischhorn, In the   First Place." 
   
   
   
 "You Are Never Going up?" 
   
   
   
 "Why Not?" Lois Asked, With Her Bright Smile. Tom Glanced at Her From 
 Under His Brows, And Grew As Dark As A Thundercloud. _She_ Was 
 
 
 
 Chapter 49 (On The Pass) Pg 223 
 Ministering to Tom'S Wife In the   Prettiest Way; Not Assuming anything, 
 And Yet Acting in a Certain Sort As Mistress Of   Ceremonies. And Mrs. 
 Caruthers Was Coming out Of   Her Apathy Every Now And Then, And Looking 
 At Her In a Curious Attentive Way. I Dare Say It Struck Tom Hard. For 
 He Could Not But See That To All Her Natural Sweetness Lois Had Added 
 Now A Full Measure Of   The   Ease And Grace Which Come From The   Habit Of 
 Society, And Which Lois Herself Had Once Admired in the   Ladies Of   His 
 Family. "Ay, Even _They_ Wouldn'T Say She Was Nobody Now!" He Said To 
 Himself Bitterly. And Philip, He Saw, Was So Accustomed to This Fact, 
 That He Took It As A Matter Of   Course. 
   
   
   
 "Where Are You Going after The   Aeggischhorn?" He Went On, To Say 
 Something. 
   
   
   
 "We Mean To Work Our Way, By Degrees, To Zermatt." 
   
   
   
 "_We_ Are Going to Zermatt," Mrs. Caruthers Put In blandly. "We Might 
 Travel In company." 
   
   
   
 "Can You Walk?" Asked philip, Smiling. 
   
   
   
 "Walk!" 
   
   
   
 "Yes. We Do It On Foot." 
   
   
   
 "What For? Pray, Pardon Me! But Are You Serious?" 
   
   
   
 "I Am In earnest, If That Is What You Mean. We Do Not Look Upon It In a 
 Serious Light. It'S Rather A Jollification." 
   
   
   
 "It Is Far The   Pleasantest Way, Mrs. Caruthers," Lois Added. 
   
   
   
 "But Do You Travel Without Any Baggage?" 
   
   
   
 "Not Quite," Said Lois Demurely. "We Generally Send That On Ahead, 
 Except What Will Go In small Satchels Slung Over The   Shoulder." 
   
   
   
 "And Take What You Can Find At The   Little Inns?" 
   
   
   
 "O Yes; And Fare Very Well." 
   
   
   
 "I Like To Be Comfortable!" Sighed the   Other Lady. "Try That Wine, And 
 See How Much Better It Is." 
 
 
 
 Chapter 49 (On The Pass) Pg 224 
   
   
 "Thank You, No; I Prefer The   Coffee." 
   
   
   
 "No Use To Ask _Her_ To Take Wine," Growled tom. "I Know She Won'T. She 
 Never Would. She Has Principles. Offer It To Mr. Dillwyn." 
   
   
   
 "You Do Me The   Honour To Suppose Me Without Principles," Said Philip 
 Dryly. 
   
   
   
 "I Don'T Suppose You Hold _Her_ Principles," Said Tom, Indicating lois 
 Rather Awkwardly By The   Pronoun Rather Than In any More Definite Way. 
 "You Never Used." 
   
   
   
 "Quite True; I Never Used. But I Do It Now." 
   
   
   
 "Do You Mean That You Have Given Up Drinking wine?" 
   
   
   
 "I Have Given It Up?" Said Philip, Smiling at Tom'S Air, Which Was 
 Almost Of   Consternation. 
   
   
   
 "Because She Don'T Like It?" 
   
   
   
 "I Hope I Would Give Up A Greater Thing than That, If She Did Not Like 
 It," Said Philip Gravely. "This Seems To Me Not A Great Thing. But The 
 Reason You Suppose Is Not My Reason." 
   
   
   
 "If The   Reason Isn'T A Secret, I Wish You'D Mention It; Mrs. Caruthers 
 Will Be Asking me In private, By And By; And I Do Not Like Her To Ask 
 Me Questions I Cannot Answer." 
   
   
   
 "My Reason Is,--I Think It Does More Harm Than Good." 
   
   
   
 "Wine?" 
   
   
   
 "Wine, And Its Congeners." 
   
   
   
 "Take A Cup Of   Coffee, Mr. Caruthers," Said Lois; "And Confess It Will 
 Do Instead Of   The   Other Thing." 
   
   
   
 Tom Accepted the   Coffee; I Don'T Think He Could Have Rejected anything 
 She Held Out To Him; But He Remarked grumly To Philip, As He Took It,-- 
 
 
 
 Chapter 49 (On The Pass) Pg 225 
   
 "It Is Easy To See Where You Got Your Principles!" 
   
   
   
 "Less Easy Than You Think," Philip Answered. "I Got Them From No Living 
 Man Or Woman, Though I Grant You, Lois Showed me The   Way To Them. I Got 
 Them From The   Bible, Old Friend." 
   
   
   
 Tom Glared at The   Speaker. 
   
   
   
 "Have You Given Up Your Cigars Too?" 
   
   
   
 Mr. Dillwyn Laughed out, And Lois Said Somewhat Exultantly, 
   
   
   
 "Yes, Mr. Caruthers." 
   
   
   
 "I Am Sure I Wish You Would Too!" Said Tom'S Wife Deploringly To Her 
 Husband. "I Think If Anything'S Horrid, It'S The   After Smell Of 
 Tobacco." 
   
   
   
 "But The   _First_ Taste Of   It Is All The   Comfort A Fellow Gets In this 
 World," Said Tom. 
   
   
   
 "No Fellow Ought To Say That," His Friend Returned. 
   
   
   
 "The Bible!" Tom Repeated, As If It Were A Hard Pill To Swallow. 
 "Philip Dillwyn Quoting _That_ Old Authority!" 
   
   
   
 "Perhaps I Ought To Go A Little Further, And Say, Tom, That My Quoting 
 It Is Not A Matter Of   Form. I Have Taken Service In the   Christian Army, 
 Since I Saw You The   Last Time. Now Tell Me How You And Mrs. Caruthers 
 Come To Be At The   Top Of   This Pass In a Snow-Storm On The   Sixteenth Of 
 June?" 
   
   
   
 "Fate!" Said Tom. 
   
   
   
 "We Did Not Expect To Have A Snow-Storm, Mr. Dillwyn," Mrs. Caruthers 
 Added. 
   
   
   
 "But You Might," Said Philip. "There Have Been Snow-Storms Everywhere 
 In Switzerland This Year." 
   
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 49 (On The Pass) Pg 226 
 "Well," Said Tom, "We Did Not Come For Pleasure, Anyhow. Never Should 
 Dream Of   It, Until A Month Later. But Mrs. Caruthers Got Word That A 
 Special Friend Of   Hers Would Be At Zermatt By A Certain Day, And Begged 
 To Meet Her; And Stay Was Uncertain; And So We Took What Was Said To Be 
 The Shortest Way From Where The   Letter Found Us. And Here We Are." 
   
   
   
 "How Is The   Coffee, Mr. Caruthers?" Lois Asked pleasantly. Tom Looked 
 Into The   Depths Of   His Coffee Cup, As If It Were An Abstraction, And 
 Then Answered, That It Was The   Best Coffee He Had Ever Had In 
 Switzerland; And Upon That He Turned determinately To Mr. Dillwyn And 
 Began To Talk Of   Other Things, Unconnected with Switzerland Or The 
 Present Time. Lois Was Fain To Entertain Tom'S Wife. The   Two Women Had 
 Little In common; Nevertheless Mrs. Caruthers Gradually Warmed under 
 The Influence That Shone Upon Her; Thawed out, And Began Even To Enjoy 
 Herself. Tom Saw It All, Without Once Turning his Face That Way; And He 
 Was Fool Enough To Fancy That He Was The   Only One. But Philip Saw It 
 Too, As It Were Without Looking; And Delighted himself All The   While In 
 The Gracious Sweetness, And The   Tender Tact, And The   Simple Dignity Of 
 Unconsciousness, With Which Lois Attended to Everybody, Ministered to 
 Everybody, And Finally Smoothed down Even Poor Mrs. Caruthers' Ruffled 
 Plumes Under Her Sympathizing and Kindly Touch. 
   
   
   
 "How Soon Will You Be At Zermatt?" The   Latter Asked. "I Wish We Could 
 Travel Together! When Do You Expect To Get There?" 
   
   
   
 "O, I Do Not Know. We Are Going first, You Know, To The   Aeggischhorn. 
 We Go Where We Like, And Stay As Long As We Like; And We Never Know 
 Beforehand How It Will Be." 
   
   
   
 "But So Early!--" 
   
   
   
 "Mr. Dillwyn Wanted me To See The   Flowers. And The   Snow Views Are Grand 
 Too; I Am Very Glad Not To Miss Them. Just Before You Came, I Had One. 
 The Clouds Swept Apart For A Moment, And Gave Me A Wonderful Sight Of   A 
 Gorge, The   Wildest Possible, And Tremendous Rocks, Half Revealed, And A 
 Chaos Of   Cloud And Storm." 
   
   
   
 "Do You Like That?" 
   
   
   
 "I Like It All," Said Lois, Smiling. And The   Other Woman Looked, With A 
 Fascinated, Uncomprehending air, At The   Beauty Of   That Smile. 
   
   
   
 "But Why Do You Walk?" 
   
   
   
 "O, That'S Half The   Fun," Cried lois. "We Gain So A Whole World Of 
 Things That Other People Miss. And The   Walking itself Is Delightful." 
   
   
   
 "I Wonder If I Could Walk?" Said Mrs. Caruthers Enviously. "How Far Can 
 You Go In a Day? You Must Make Very Slow Progress?" 
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 49 (On The Pass) Pg 227 
   
 "Not Very. Now I Am Getting in training, We Can Do Twenty Or Thirty 
 Miles A Day With Ease." 
   
   
   
 "Twenty Or Thirty Miles!" Mrs. Caruthers As Nearly Screamed as 
 Politeness Would Let Her Do. 
   
   
   
 "We Do It Easily, Beginning the   Day Early." 
   
   
   
 "How Early? What Do You Call Early?" 
   
   
   
 "About Four Or Five O'Clock." 
   
   
   
 Mrs. Caruthers Looked now As If She Were Staring at A Prodigy. 
   
   
   
 "Start At Four O'Clock! Where Do You Get Breakfast? Don'T You Have 
 Breakfast? Will The   People Give You Breakfast So Early? Why, They Would 
 Have To Be Up By Two." 
   
   
   
 Tom Was Listening now. He Could Not Help It. 
   
   
   
 "O, We Have Breakfast," Lois Said. "We Carry It With Us, And We Stop At 
 Some Nice Place And Take Rest On The   Rocks, Or On A Soft Carpet Of 
 Moss, When We Have Walked an Hour Or Two. Mr. Dillwyn Carries Our 
 Breakfast In a Little Knapsack." 
   
   
   
 "Is It _Nice?_" Enquired the   Lady, With Such An Expression Of   Doubt And 
 Scruple That The   Risible Nerves Of   The   Others Could Not Stand It, And 
 There Was A General Burst Of   Laughter. 
   
   
   
 "Come And Try Once," Said Lois, "And You Will See." 
   
   
   
 "If You Do Not Like Such Fare," Philip Went On, "You Can Almost Always 
 Stop At A House And Get Breakfast." 
   
   
   
 "I Could Not Eat Dry Food," Said The   Lady; "And You Do Not Drink Wine. 
 What _Do_ You Drink? Water?" 
   
   
   
 "Sometimes. Generally We Manage To Get Milk. It Is Fresh And Excellent." 
   
   
   
 "And Without Cups And Saucers?" Said The   Astonished lady. Lois'S 
 "Ripple Of   Laughter" Sounded again Softly. 
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 49 (On The Pass) Pg 228 
   
 "Not Quite Without Cups; I Am Afraid We Really Do Without Saucers. We 
 Have An Unlimited tablecloth, You Know, Of   Lichen And Moss." 
   
   
   
 "And You Really Enjoy It?" 
   
   
   
 But Here Lois Shook Her Head. "There Are No Words To Tell How Much." 
   
   
   
 Mrs. Caruthers Sighed. If She Had Spoken Out Her Thoughts, It Was Too 
 Plain To Lois, She Would Have Said, "I Do Not Enjoy Anything." 
   
   
   
 "How Long Are You Thinking to Stay On This Side Of   The   Water?" Tom 
 Asked his Friend Now. 
   
   
   
 "Several Months Yet, I Hope. I Want To Push On Into Tyrol. We Are Not 
 In A Hurry. The   Old House At Home Is Getting put Into Order, And Till 
 It Is Ready For Habitation We Can Be Nowhere Better Than Here." 
   
   
   
 "The Old House? _Your_ House, Do You Mean? The   Old House At Battersby?" 
   
   
   
 "Yes." 
   
   
   
 "You Are Not Going _There?_ For The   Winter At Least?" 
   
   
   
 "Yes, We Propose That. Why?" 
   
   
   
 "It Is I That Should Ask 'Why.' What On Earth Should You Go To Live 
 _There_ For?" 
   
   
   
 "It Is A Nice Country, A Very Good House, And A Place I Am Fond Of, And 
 I Think Lois Will Like." 
   
   
   
 "But Out Of   The   World!" 
   
   
   
 "Only Out Of   Your World," His Friend Returned, With A Smile. 
   
   
   
 "Why Should You Go Out Of   Our World? It Is _The_ World." 
   
   
   
 "For What Good Properties?" 
 
 
 
 Chapter 49 (On The Pass) Pg 229 
   
   
 "And It Has Always Been Your World," Tom Went On, Disregarding this 
 Question. 
   
   
   
 "I Told You, I Am Changed." 
   
   
   
 "But Does Becoming a Christian _Change_ A Man, Mr. Dillwyn?" Mrs. 
 Caruthers Asked. 
   
   
   
 "So The   Bible Says." 
   
   
   
 "I Never Saw Much Difference. I Thought We Were All Christians." 
   
   
   
 "If You Were To Live A While In the   House With That Lady," Said Tom 
 Darkly, "You'D Find Your Mistake. What In all The   World Do You Expect 
 To Do Up There At Battersby?" He Went On, Turning to His Friend. 
   
   
   
 "Live," Said Philip. "In Your World You Only Drag Along Existence. And 
 We Expect To Work, Which You Never Do. There Is No Real Living without 
 Working, Man. Try It, Tom." 
   
   
   
 "Cannot You Work, As You Call It, In town?" 
   
   
   
 "We Want More Free Play, And More Time, Than Town Life Allows One." 
   
   
   
 "Besides, The   Country Is So Much Pleasanter," Lois Added. 
   
   
   
 "But Such A Neighbourhood! You Don'T Know The   Neighbourhood--But You 
 _Do_, Philip. You Have No Society, And Battersby Is Nothing but A 
 Manufacturing place--" 
   
   
   
 "Battersby Is Three And A Half Miles Off; Too Far For Its Noise Or Its 
 Smoke To Reach Us; And We Can Get Society, As Much As We Want, And 
 _What_ We Want; And In such A Place There Is Always A Great Deal That 
 Might Be Done." 
   
   
   
 The Talk Went On For Some Time; Mrs. Caruthers Seeming amazed and 
 Mystified, Tom Dissatisfied and Critical. At Last, Being informed that 
 Their Own Quarters Were Ready, The   Later Comers Withdrew, After 
 Agreeing that They Would All Sup Together. 
   
   
   
 "Tom," Said Mrs. Caruthers Presently, "Whom Did Mr. Dillwyn Marry?" 
   
   
 
 
 
 Chapter 49 (On The Pass) Pg 230 
   
 "Whom Did He Marry?" 
   
   
   
 "Yes. Who Was She Before She Married?" 
   
   
   
 "I Always Heard She Was Nobody," Tom Answered, With Something between A 
 Grunt And A Groan. 
   
   
   
 "Nobody! But That'S Nonsense. I Haven'T Seen A Woman With More Style In 
 A Great While." 
   
   
   
 "Style!" Echoed tom, And His Word Would Have Had A Sharp Addition If He 
 Had Not Been Speaking to His Wife; But Tom Was Before All Things A 
 Gentleman. As It Was, His Tone Would Have Done Honour To A Grisly Bear 
 Somewhat Out Of   Temper. 
   
   
   
 "Yes," Repeated mrs. Caruthers. "You May Not Know It, Tom, Being a Man; 
 But _I_ Know What I Am Saying; And I Tell You Mrs. Dillwyn Has Very 
 Distinguished manners. I Hope We May See A Good Deal Of   Them." 
   
   
   
 Meanwhile Lois Was Standing still Where They Had Left Her, In front Of 
 The Fire; Looking down Meditatively Into It. Her Face Was Grave, And 
 Her Abstraction For Some Minutes Deep. I Suppose Her New England 
 Reserve Was Struggling with Her Individual Frankness Of   Nature, For She 
 Said No Word, And Mr. Dillwyn, Who Was Watching her, Also Stood Silent. 
 At Last Frankness, Or Affection, Got The   Better Of   Reserve; And, With A 
 Slow, Gentle Motion She Turned to Him, Laying one Hand On His Shoulder, 
 And Sinking her Face Upon His Breast. 
   
   
   
 "Lois! What Is It?" He Asked, Folding his Arms About Her. 
   
   
   
 "Philip, It Smites Me!" 
   
   
   
 "What, My Darling?" He Said, Almost Startled. And Then She Lifted up 
 Her Face And Looked at Him. 
   
   
   
 "To Know Myself So Happy, And To See Them So Unhappy. Philip, They Are 
 Not Happy,--Neither One Of   Them!" 
   
   
   
 "I Am Afraid It Is True. And We Can Do Nothing to Help Them." 
   
   
   
 "No, I See That Too." 
   
   
   
 Lois Said It With A Sigh, And Was Silent Again. Philip Did Not Choose 
 To Push The   Subject Further, Uncertain How Far Her Perceptions Went, 
 
 
 
 Chapter 49 (On The Pass) Pg 231 
 And Not Wishing to Give Them Any Assistance. Lois Stood Silent And 
 Pondering, Still Within His Arms, And He Waited and Watched her. At 
 Last She Began Again. 
   
   
   
 "We Cannot Do _Them_ Any Good. But I Feel As If I Should Like To Spend 
 My Life In making people Happy." 
   
   
   
 "How Many People?" Said Her Husband Fondly, With A Kiss Or Two Which 
 Explained his Meaning. Lois Laughed out. 
   
   
   
 "Philip, _I_ Do Not Make You Happy." 
   
   
   
 "You Come Very Near It." 
   
   
   
 "But I Mean-- Your Happiness Has Something better To Rest On. I Should 
 Like To Spend My Life Bringing happiness To The   People Who Know Nothing 
 About Being happy." 
   
   
   
 "Do It, Sweetheart!" Said He, Straining her A Little Closer. "And Let 
 Me Help." 
   
   
   
 "Let You Help!--When You Would Have To Do Almost The   Whole. But, To Be 
 Sure, Money Is Not All; And Money Alone Will Not Do It, In most Cases. 
 Philip, I Will Tell You Where I Should Like To Begin." 
   
   
   
 "Where? I Will Begin There Also." 
   
   
   
 "With Mrs. Barclay." 
   
   
   
 "Mrs. Barclay!" There Came A Sudden Light Into Philip'S Eyes. 
   
   
   
 "Do You Know, She Is Not A Happy Woman?" 
   
   
   
 "I Know It." 
   
   
   
 "And She Seems Very Much Alone In the   World." 
   
   
   
 "She Is Alone In the   World." 
   
   
   
 "And She Has Been So Good To Us! She Has Done A Great Deal For Madge 
 And Me." 
 
 
 
 Chapter 49 (On The Pass) Pg 232 
   
   
 "She Has Done As Much For Me." 
   
   
   
 "I Don'T Know About That. I Do Not See How She Could. In a Way, I Owe 
 Her Almost Everything. Philip, You Would Never Have Married the   Woman I 
 Was Three Years Ago." 
   
   
   
 "Don'T Take Your Oath Upon That," He Said Lightly. 
   
   
   
 "But You Would Not, And You Ought Not." 
   
   
   
 "There Is A Counterpart To That. I Am Sure You Would Not Have Married 
 The Man I Was Three Years Ago." 
   
   
   
 At That Lois Laid Down Her Face Again For A Moment On His Breast. 
   
   
   
 "I Had A Pretty Hard Quarter Of   An Hour In a Sleigh With You Once!" She 
 Said. 
   
   
   
 Philip'S Answer Was Again Wordless. 
   
   
   
 "But About Mrs. Barclay?" Said Lois, Recovering herself. 
   
   
   
 "Are You One Of   The   Few Women Who Can Keep To The   Point?" Said He, 
 Laughing. 
   
   
   
 "What Can We Do For Her?" 
   
   
   
 "What Would You Like To Do For Her?" 
   
   
   
 "Oh-- Make Her Happy!" 
   
   
   
 "And To That End--?" 
   
   
   
 Lois Lifted her Face And Looked into Mr. Dillwyn'S As If She Would 
 Search Out Something there. The   Frank Nobleness Which Belonged to It 
 Was Encouraging, And Yet She Did Not Speak. 
   
   
   
 "Shall We Ask Her To Make Her Home With Us?" 
 
 
 
 Chapter 49 (On The Pass) Pg 233 
   
   
 "O Philip!" Said Lois, With Her Face All Illuminated,--"Would You Like 
 It?" 
   
   
   
 "I Owe Her Much More Than You Do. And, Love, I Like What You Like." 
   
   
   
 "Would She Come?" 
   
   
   
 "If She Could Resist You And Me Together, She Would Be Harder Than I 
 Think Her." 
   
   
   
 "I Love Her Very Much," Said Lois Thoughtfully, "And I Think She Loves 
 Me. And If She Will Come--I Am Almost Sure We _Can_ Make Her Happy." 
   
   
   
 "We Will Try, Darling." 
   
   
   
 "And These Other People--We Need not Meet Them At Zermatt, Need we?" 
   
   
   
 "We Will Find It Not Convenient." 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
 Neither At Zermatt Nor Anywhere Else In switzerland Did The   Friends 
 Again Join Company. Afterwards, When Both Parties Had Returned to Their 
 Own Country, It Was Impossible But That Encounters Should Now And Then 
 Take Place. But Whenever And Wherever They Happened, Tom Made Them As 
 Short As His Wife Would Let Him. And As Long As He Lives, He Will Never 
 See Mrs. Philip Dillwyn Without A Clouding of   His Face And A Very 
 Evident Discomposure Of   His Gay And Not Specially Profound Nature. It 
 Has Tenacity Somewhere, And Has Received at Least One Thing which It 
 Will Never Lose. 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
 
 
 Publication Date: June 30th 2014 https://www.bookrix.com/-azbdcf75988b535