Howard_One_Summer.txt topic ['13', '324', '378', '393']
CHAPTER I.
' The world's male chivalry has perished out,
But women are knights-errant to the last,
And if Cervantes had 'been greater still,
He had made his Don a Donna."
MBS. BROWNING.
WITH a half-amused, half-impatient ex-
pression, she slowly turned from an un-
successful attempt to see through the
blackness of darkness outside the window,
and looked about the quaint old room. It was
furnished with that profound regard for angles
which characterizes the New England country-
house adorned by the taste of fifty years ago. An
uncompromising sofa loftily elevated its antique
back, and contemplated with austere approval a
line of rigidly upright chairs placed at exact dis-
tances upon the parallelograms of the carpet, and
flanked by two triangular footstools. Everywhere
was solidity, regularity, the quintessence of stiff-
ness, except in a deep recessed window where a
pretty modern Vandal, with fluffy golden hair,
was curled up upon the faded damask cushions,
and gazing with wide-open saucy eyes upon the
treasures of time surrounding her.
622706
8 ONE SUMMER.
" Such a hopelessly heavy rain ! I would like
to be a man just long enough to run do\vh to
Pratt's for that book, but no longer, no, not a
moment longer ! " And she complacently glanced
down at the lace ruffles falling over her pretty
wrists, with conscious satisfaction shook out her
soft draperies, and meditatively eyed the tips of
her delicate French kid boots.
Renounce these delicious feminine belongings
and be transformed into a great man in an ugly
tall hat and a dress all straight lines and angles
like that odious room ] Never ! Not for all pos-
sible wealth and glory and renown would she, even
if it were within her power, depart from " that state
of life into which it had pleased God to call her."
It was lovely to be a woman. She knew so many
brave, patient, noble ones. And her mind wandered
to friends far away, and; dwelling affectionately
upon their sweet and gracious womanhood, she
forgot the storm without and the prim, cheerless
room, lighted by one kerosene-lamp, which stared
down at her from the high wooden mantel like a
sullen eye gloating over the loveliness of the for-
lorn little maiden. Roused from her brief revery
b y
" A wind that shrieked to the window-pane,
A wind in the chimney moaning,"
she rose and slowly paced up and down the room.
The coral-branches on the whatnot, the grim ma-
hogany skeleton that haunted a shadowv corner,
seemed to beckon with their white ghostly arms.
From the queer paintings on the walls, the beady
eyes of shepherdesses with brick-red feverish cheeks
ONE SUMMER. 9
watched her fixedly. " Did anybody ever really
enjoy life here \ " she wondered. One might drag
out a weary existence in such a place, but one
could not live. Ah, no ! the joy of living is far
removed from this desolation. Thus in the naugh-
ty impatience of youth did Miss Laura Leigh
Doane dare to heap all manner of abuse upon good
old Mother Jackson's " best parlor," where were
arrayed her most venerated Penates, cherished
objects handed down from past generations or
gathered together through the long years of her
monotonous life, and always sacredly guarded from
the approach of the profanum vulgus. The orna-
ments, if one may be permitted to use so frivolous
a ter*m in regard to the smaller relics, were taken
up tenderly, lifted with care, when the momen-
tous event of a yearly tea-party rendered sweeping
and dusting imperative ; the more massive treas-
ures were moved but slightly, and by the priestess's
own hands, and then gently pushed back upon
the identical spots in the carpet where she herself
had first placed them in admiring awe half a cen-
tury before. Dear old lady, who closed her eyes
peacefully and was gathered to her fathers, little
dreaming that erelong the sacred precincts of her
" best room " would be invaded by this contemptu-
ous young thing !
" If I could only have a grand incantation-scene,
and conjure up the departed widow's wraith,"
the girl thought wickedly, " how I should revel in
.giving her a few modern ideas in regard to beauti-
fying her homestead ! Even a ghost would be a
relief to my feelings." And with a despairing
*
JO ONE SUMMER.
sigh she drew from her pocket a letter which she
had read and reread many times since it had
arrived late that day, and which at each perusal
conveyed fresh aggravation to Miss Doane's per-
turbed spirit.
, July 2, 18.
MY DEAR LEIGH, Sorry to say that some business
complications have just turned up which may detain
me here three weeks, and possibly longer. Bessie
thought at first she would join you immediately, but
dreads the long journey with nurse and baby, and so
concludes to wait for me to pilot her through. You
must therefore possess your soul in patience, and do
try some of your winning ways on the austere Phipps,
that the household wheels may run smoothly before
our advent ; and above all, impress upon the worthy
spinster's mind the virtue, nay, the necessity of mod-
erately late breakfasts. My six-o'clock penance the
morning I was there still lingers in my shuddering
memory. I was not prepared to mortify the flesh so
cruelly. Triumph over this abuse, my child, and you
will receive my tearful blessing, and also the reward of
an approving conscience, having overthrown one evil in
this naughty world.
The box of books I have forwarded to-day at Bessie's
suggestion. She declares you would be a miserable
girl without your German and the rest of your hobbies.
I saw some pamphlets down town this " morning,
" Alone " and " A Waif" and " Forlorn " and " The
Wanderer," and I ordered half a dozen to be sent up
to the house, the titles were so touching and so sug-
gestive of your situation ; so if you find them you will
know whom to thank, but it is possible Bessie has scorn-
fully rejected my humble contribution to your comfort.
Do not be discouraged if the box puts in a tardy
appearance in those remote ' wilds. Somehow I feel
conscience-stricken that I left you in the forsaken old
ONE SUMMER. H
place ; but how could I deny my wilful sister when she
insisted, not without reason, upon going down with
me, " to make things comfortable for Bessie " 1 I can-
not help reproaching myself that I did not bring you
back ; still you are safe enough, after all, Leigh. Dragon
Phipps would be a host in herself in case of anybody
daring to " molest her ancient solitary reign," and I
would trust that dear little head of yours the world
over.
By the way, Harry Blake tells me that our old chum
Philip Ogden is straying about somewhere in your
vicinity in search of health and quiet. Something has
given out, eyes, I believe. Perhaps you may stumble
against him somewhere. I really wish you might meet
him. He would make it more agreeable for you till
we can get down, which you may be very sure will be
just so soon as I can arrange matters. Ogden is exact-
ly the style of man you like. If I can learn his retreat,
and he is sufficiently near, I will drop him a line and
tell him to call and pay his respects to the second-best
little woman in the world, who is in a woful plight
just now, thanks to the stupidity of her affectionate
brother,
TOM.
Scrawled languidly in pencil beneath Mr. Tom
Otis's dashing chirography was
Is it not too ridiculous, you poor dear, for you to be
left all alone in that horrid place ? J do not know
whether to laugh or to cry, and Tom feels really
dejected, though he puts on mannish airs, 'of course,
and talks about inexorable fate, and sa} r s that you are
ecp:ial to any emergency, and, moreover, that nothing so
startling and unexpected as an emergency ever did or
ever will happen in Edgecomb. But do be careful
about fastening the doors and windows. There might
be stragglers even in that innocent village, I suppose.
12 ONE SUMMER.
And air our rooms from inoniing till night so the sweet
sunshine will conquer the mouldiness. My baby must
not inhale the breath of past ages. I know you have
everything ready for us even now, dear, so there 's no
more unpacking and arranging to occupy you unfor-
tunately ; but Tom says the place is very beautiful,
which is the only consolation I have in thinking of you.
You will at least have something to look at, and three
weeks will come to an end sometime. But O, dear,
it 's so perfectly absurd for you to be there alone ! I
almost wish we had decided to stay at home all sum-
mer.
I '11 write more when I feel a little stronger. Tom
stands over me like an ogre and threatens to take away
my penciL
Very lovingly,
BESSIE.
With a comical look of resignation the girl re-
placed the letter in its envelope. The situation
was unpleasant, yet after all it might have been
worse. The perseciitions of the early Christians
had unquestionably been less endurable, she
thought smilingly ; and then for nearer examples
there was poor Robinson Crusoe, and that unfor-
tunate young woman of Charles Reade's, whom the
eccentric novelist deposits upon a lonely island with
a transcendental impossible lover for her only com-
panion. Phipps was a priceless boon compared with
him. Three week?, only three little weeks,
r.ot such an interminable time as it had seemed in
her first disappointment when the stage-coach had
lumbered along and brought the letter instead of
her dear ones. And Bessie was right. The place
was very beautiful She would indeed have some-
ONE SUMMER. 13
thing to look at. Edgecomb was full of languid
stately beauty, and rich with memories of days
gone by, before " the vicissitudes of changeful
time " had swept away its 'commerce and its
wealth, the throbbing life from its busy marts and
crowded wharves. It had a history. It was not
always so silent and so staid. The city-bred girl,
with her quick intuitions, had breathed in the
story told by the few grand old residences, with
their rows of superb and ancient elms, half uncon-
sciously, as she had inhaled the sweetness of the
new-mown hay, the heavy fragrance of the rich
ripe strawberries in the fields near by, and the
delicious saltness brought by the evening breeze
from the not far distant sea. Even in the con-
fusion of unpacking huge boxes, arranging their
contents, and making sagacious little plans for the
comfort of the invalid, Edgecomb's quiet loveli-
ness had spoken to her deeply appreciative nature
in the tender language of a benediction. The
place was perfect in peace.
She would be an ingrate to rebel against her
fate when she could wander about at her own sweet
will, walk on that long open bridge at sunset, take
a book to the summit of one of those pretty hills,
and read or idly glance down on the silent river
widening to the bay. Why, the prospect positively
began to grow inviting. Certainly it was an un-
precedented state of affairs. No one ever heard
of a girl left entirely to her own devices in just
this way. It was all strange. Odd that Tom had
heard of the house and of its one inmate, and that
his letters had prevailed upon her to move out of
14 ONE SUMMER.
her accustomed grooves sufficiently to agree to
take them for the summer. uch a big queer old
house, and two such very queer old women had
lived in it by themselves so long. The widow was
a kind soul to reward her faithful Phipps who
in the good country-fashion had ministered to her
as a sister rather than as a servant by leaving
her the old homestead, that she, like her mistress
and friend, might die where she had lived. " Two
women shall be grinding at the mill ; the one
shall be taken, the other left." How strange the
world was ! Strangest of all, it seemed to her
just then that she, Laura Leigh Doane should be
where she was, wondering how many cups of tea
those two boon companions had drunk together.
Two apiece, regularly, three times a day, not
counting extras. That made twelve each day.
Eighty-four a week. Three hundred and thirty-
six a month. Twelve times tbree hundred and
thirty-six ] Here she was obliged to abandon
mental calculations, and resort to a pencil and
the corner of an envelope. Four thousand and
thirty-two in a year ! And how many years ?
She dared not estimate. Miss Phipps's appearance
would indicate a century or two. But how de-
lightful to be in a house where for forty, fifty
years at the very least, two lonely women had,
amid the mildest of gossipings, solemnly swallowed
every twelvemonth four thousand and thirty-two
cups of tea all scalding hot and superlatively
strong ! It was charming unique, and the
lamp sputtered and the rain beat against the panes.
Again she was suddenly recalled to herself. Ah,
ONE SUMMER. 15
yes ! everything in the world was enjoyable ex-
cept that dismal room. Three weeks in Edge-
comb at large, with its wealth of beautiful hills
and trees and waters and invigorating salt breezes,
was one thing ; one evening in that room, another,
altogether different and rapidly growing insup-
portable. She heard a step on the plauk side-
walk. She looked out, could see nothing, but
listened to the heavy tramp coming nearer and
nearer. Tramp tramp the man had passed
the window. He had been somewhere, was going
somewhere. Circumstances had not conspired to
imprison him in an apartment rendered hideous
and sepulchral by a certain honest but mistaken
widow now defunct. Thrice-happy man !
" No doubt men are blessed in some respects
beyond their deserts," she said to herself, petu-
lantly. The intricacies of politics were as Hebrew
to her ; she experienced no irresistible longing to
be an independent voter, no mysterious magnetic
drawing to the rostrum ; but at that moment,
which was, unknown to her, a critical one in her
career, she did thoroughly covet the masculine
privilege of defying storms without also defying
the proprieties, and for the second time that even-
ing came the absurd little wish to be a man for
only a wee half-hour.
What would the storm and darkness be to her
then '? Trifling annoyances merely, not insur-
mountable obstacles as at present. So easy to
pull on a heavy overcoat, draw a soft hat well
down on the head, grasp an umbrella with one
muscular hand, thrust the other in a warm pocket,
15 ONE SUMMER.
and, with no petticoats fluttering in the wind and
impeding progress, carelessly stalk off.
The fascinating picture suggested a certain pos-
sibility. Why should she not go out if she wished ]
Why might she not go down for the novel she had
noticed that morning in the window of the little
bookstore where she had been on some trifling er-
rand ] She had wondered then how anything so
new had strayed there, and would have taken the
book, but needed no entertainment with the im-
mediate prospect of seeing Bessie and baby and
Tom. But why should she not have it now i She
looked at her watch.
" Not yet half past eight. I 'm not afraid,"
she thought. " Nothing could harm me here, and
nobody knows me. It will not take two minutes
to slip into my waterproof and rubbers. I know
I shall not take cold. It w.ill be a new sensation
to be out alone in the evening, and in such a tre-
mendous storm too. If 1 meet with an adventure,
all the better. Why, it 's a real Walpurgis Night.
1 shall feel like a witch ! "
And she looked like one as she started up with
her new resolution shining out through mischiev-
ous eyes and oddly compressed lips.
She was young. She had health, inexhaustible
spirits, and energy. Her own ideas were apt to
interest her. She was in that state of idleness in
which Satan is proverbially said to be devising
" mischief still " to cause our downfall. And she
wanted the book. These are the reasons, if rea-
sons they be, why shortly after a figure, armed
with an umbrella and well wrapped in a water-
ONE SUMMER. 17
proof, the hood drawn up snugly over a close little
turban, ran lightly down the broad old-fashioned
staircase, with a gay disregard for the possible
consternation of the worthy Phipps, should she
know of the wild and wayward exploit, and gently
opening the massive door, sprang with a sense of
rare exhilaration and delight out into the wind and
13 ONE SUMMER.
CHAPTER II.
" T is not so deep as a well nor so wide as a church-door ; but 't is
enough, 'twill serve."
Itomco and Juliet.
ORBIDDEN fruit being ever to our fallen
natures the richest and ripest and sweet-
est, Miss Doane experienced vivid satis-
faction in executing her fantastic scheme.
She hilariously floundered off and on the narrow
sidewalk, always insecure, and on this memorable
night rendered unusually treacherous by occasional
streams of running water and deep hidden pools ;
she joyously welcomed the cold rain-drops as they
beat persistently against her cheek, and was intox-
icated with the pleasure of struggling with all her
might against the constant efforts of the wind to
seize and whirl awav her umbrella, efforts which
,t she interpreted as the playful frolics of a friend,
so jovial was her mood. She skipped along,
stumbled along, blew along. The mode of pro-
gression signified nothing to her. She only felt
that the storm was superb, that the great elms
whose swaying branches she could barely distin-
guish in the darkness were sobbing and sighing
around her, that a mighty wind was almost lifting
her bodily from the ground. She pitied girls, her
former self among them, who had only ventured
forth in decorous drizzles, and who knew nothing
ONE SUMMER. 19
of the rapturous excitement of a rrufd, wild, tem-
pestuous night like this.
She reached the bookstore, bought the coveted
pamphlet. The man stared as he passed the book
to her. Visions of tall girls with glowing cheeks
and sparkling eyes and numerous streamlets trick-
ling from their apparel, half-breathlessly demand-
ing light literature at nearly nine o'clock on the
stormiest of evenings, were not frequent in his
limited experience, and "eyes were made for see-
ing." The gaze of the grim librarian did not dis-
concert Miss Doane in the least. She grasped her
novel and umbrella and passed out swiftly into
the flood like a nineteenth-century Undine.
The buoyancy, the champagne-like frothiness of
spirit still electrified her ; but alas, champagne
loses its sparkle, and forbidden fruit must some
time turn to dust and ashes on the lips that taste
it ! As she drew near an exposed corner, it
seemed as if all the winds of heaven had broken
loose, were rioting madly, and seeking whom they
might devour. Twice they beat her back in spite
of her struggles, twitched violently at the closely
fastened waterproof, and put a fiendish desire to
soar away over the dusky tree-tops into her hith-
erto trustworthy umbrella. She retreated a step
or two, stopped a moment to regain her breath,
then, taking advantage of a partial cessation of
hostilities, gathered herself together for a final
mighty effort, and, with head bent forward, um-
brella tightly clinched in both hands and held at
an. angle of about thirty degrees, made a grand
spring, charged valiantly through the warring ele-
20 ONE SUMMER.
ments, triunfphantly turned the corner, and, with
singular precision of aim, plunged the apex of her
umbrella directly into the face and eyes of an
unwary pedestrian who was approaching from the
opposite direction.
Miss Doane's momentum was great, great
also the severity of the blow she had unwittingly
administered, and great the surprise and dismay
she experienced at finding her freedom so suddenly
brought to an inglorious end. In the confusion
caused by the abrupt fall of her spirits from
extreme excitement and elation to real regret,
mingled with a ludicrous sense of the absurdity of
her unprovoked assault, the " I beg your pardon,
sir," which sprang from her heart found no utter-
ance. After a truly feminine fashion, she ran
away frantically a few feet, then stood still and
speechless at a short distance from her victim.
Who was he ] What was he 1 If it were only
light enough for her to judge by his looks whether
she had better offer him assistance ; for an excla-
mation of pain at the moment of the umbrella's
direful deed, and now the stranger's motionless
attitude, gave sufficient evidence that he was
suffering. After all, whatever he might be,
whether fierce desperado a growth not indige-
nous to Edgecomb soil, she knew well or in-
nocent ploughboy, which was much more likely to
be the case, in ordinary kindness she could not
leave him without a word of sympathy. Pruden-
tial motives for declining to enter into conversa-
tion with a stranger in utter darkness, and the
instinctive womanlv desire to be of service if she
ONE SUMMER. 21
were needed, together with unusual difficulty in
knowing what to say, struggled for mastery in- the
girl's mind during the agitating minute which
followed the accident. A half-suppressed groan
from the subject of her reflections made her
ashamed of her silly scruples, and she moved
towards him with an expression of sincerest re-
gret upon her lips. Her remark was however
unspoken, for the stranger at the same moment
advanced, and in a gentlemanly voice said,
" My good woman "
" Good woman,, indeed ! " she thought indig-
nantly and with a sudden revulsion of feeling,
her sympathies giving way to wounded pride of
station. " Does he take me for a milkmaid 1 "
Then, common-sense coming to the rescue : " Well,
am I not a good woman 1 Naughtier than usual
to-night, no doubt," with sundry misgivings as to
the strict propriety of her conduct, " but a good
woman, nevertheless. Certainly there is nothing
offensive in the words' in themselves. Nobody
ever happened to call me so before, and there is a
good deal in association ; but the poor man is in
a dilemma, too ; how in the world is he to know
in what manner to address me 1 "
He evidently was somewhat embarrassed. He
had hesitated after first using the obnoxious
phrase ; but, reasoning that the " Madam " which
would be his involuntary mode of address under
other circumstances would be wholly out of place
applied to a servant or to any woman out unpro-
tected on such a furious night, he went on in a
kind, reassuring tone, -
22 . OSE smnaat.
" Do not be alarmed. Let me speak with you
a moment."
This seemed to be an invitation to approach, as
the violence of the storm rendered conversation at
her present distance from him a difficult matter.
There was in his manner a quiet dignity, almost
a command, to which she found herself at once
responding.
"May I trouble you to assist me]" he asked
as she drew near, and saw that he was trying to
tie his handkerchief round his head, and that the
wind and the necessity of holding his hat in his
hand made this ordinarily simple operation a diffi-
cult one. Without a word, she mechanically put
her umbrella into his outstretched hand, took the
fluttering handkerchief, folded it compactly, and
tied it firmly, in accordance with his direction,
" Round both eyes, if you please, not too
tight," then stood as if in a dream, awaiting
further orders from this unknown and extraordi-
nary individual. Recovering herself, she ven-
tured to say,
"Are you much hurt, sir 1 ? I am very sorry."
" Not seriously, I hope, although I am in some
pain," he replied. " However, it is my own fault.
With such mean and miserable eyes, I ought not
to have come out to-night," he continued, address-
ing himself rather than the supposed voung rus-
tic.
" Singular coincidence ! Neither ought I," she
thought.
" My good girl." an indefinable something
had told him that it was a young girl whose
ONE SUMMER. 23
gentle, dexterous hands had touched his hair,
" do you think you could ' He paused, then
with some reluctance said : " The fact is, I hardly
know what I 'd better do. Your umbrella has
nearly put out my eye, has injured it enough
to make it exceedingly painful, at all events,
which is not in the slightest degree your fault, of
course," he added, courteously. " I am sorry to
ask so much of any woman, particularly of a
stranger ; but could you be my guide home 1
Would you object to walking to my boarding-
place with mel"
No untutored peasant-maiden could have fal-
tered, in reply to this somewhat astounding pro-
posal, a inoi'e bashful " I d-o-n'-t k-n-o-w " than
came faintly from the lips of the self-possessed
and elegant Miss Doane.
"These country girls are always shy," he
thought, " and no wonder she is afraid of me
inider the circumstances. Poor little thing ! "
Then, very gently, as if encouraging a frightened
child, he explained : " Indeed, I would not trouble
you if I could help it. My eyes have been almost
powerless of late, and I hardly dare strain them
by trying to grope my way back when one eye is
so inflamed and irritated by that hostile weapon
of yours that the other is suffering in sympathv.
Perhaps some man might be induced to go. The
difficulty would be in finding anybody. The shops
must be closed at this hour." Then, with the
utmost courtesy : " You need not be afraid. My
name is Ogden. I am staying out at the Holbrook
Farm. Pardon me if I ask you once more if you
24 ONE SUMMER.
will be good enough to walk there with me. It is
possible for me to go alone, of course ; but diffi-
cult, and likely to be worse for me in the end '
And he drew a long breath as if the bruise pained
him, and as if it wearied him to make so careful
an explanation for the benefit of this extremely
taciturn young country woman.
She started when he gave his name. She was
seized with a violent impulse to seek safety in
flight. " Such an incredible state of things ! " she
thought ; then bravely accepted the situation, and
said quietly,
" I will go with you, sir."
" I thank you. Will you take my arm 1 I hope
the extra walk will not fatigue you ; yet, if you
dare venture out at all to-night He stopped
abruptly, fearing his remark might seem rude.
In her interpretation, his unspoken thought
gained tenfold severity.
"A common, coarse country girl like me, who
dares venture out at all to-night, cannot be injured
by walking au additional mile," she thought, in
much vexation. " Does he need to be formally
presented to one by Mrs. Grundy, before he recog-
nizes one as a lady ] Ought I to be labelled,
' This is a gentlewoman,' that the stupid man
may know me when he sees me ?" Then, repent-
ing, "But the poor man has not seen me,* and I
have hardly opened my lips. How should he
know!" After a moment she waxed 1 indignant
again. " But he ought to know. He ought to
know without hearing or seeing me. I never will
excuse it in him, never ! "
ONE SUMMER. 25
Thus, her heart full of conflicting emotions,
pity for her silent companion as a fellow-creature
in pain alternating with unreasoning wrath against
him as Mr. Philip Ogden who had presumed to
adopt towards her a tone of calm and dignified
superiority, and who had not had the superhuman
discernment to recognize her, in spite of the obsta-
cles, as his social equal, Miss Doane walked by Mr.
Ogden's side, inwardly rebellious, outwardly guid-
ing his steps with praiseworthy meekness.
And he with that sickening pain in the eyes
which sends a throbbing to the brain, and intense
nervous irritability over the whole s} r stem, and
makes it difficult for the gentlest nature to be
patient, thought but little of her after the brief
conversation recorded. She was the means; the
speediest possible arrival at Farmer Holbrook's,
the end he had in view. So through the storm
these two, whom Fate had so curiously thrown
together, pursued their way.
She knew perfectly where the farm was. She
had seen it on the main road as she entered the
village. From her lofty pinnacle on top of the
" stage, she had looked admiringly upon its soft
undulating fields, thrifty orchards, snug cottage,
and great barns ; and Tom had inquired the own-
er's name of the stage-driver, who had responded
with the eager loquacity peculiar to the genus.
The place was nearly a mile from Miss Phipps's
mansion, for whose friendly shelter she now sighed,
deeming even that much-derided parlor an unat-
tainable bower of bliss.
Once the idea of announcing herself to this cool
2
26 ONE SUMMER.
and self-sufficient gentleman, of witnessing his in-
evitable embarrassment should she mention her
name and Tom's, and of so revenging herself,
occurred to hei\ But she recalled the shade of
authority which she had observed in his manner,
in spite of the extreme gentleness of his tone, and
also the wonder he had implied, that any decent
country girl should brave the severity of so
stormv a night, and unseen in the darkness she
blushed crimson with mortification, and bitterly
lainented her senseless whim and its consequences.
She could not declare herself. She had been
guilty of an act, indiscreet, according to this
man's code, in the ignorant village girl for whom
he had mistaken her. Should she then stop by
the roadside, withdraw her hand from his arm,
make a profound courtesy before his bandaged,
unseeing eyes, and, after the fashion of the sultan
in the Arabian Nights, throw off her disguise, and
exclaim in a melodramatic manner, " Pause, vain
man ! Behold in me, Miss Laura Doane, a person
not entirely unknown in the polite circles in
which you move, and of whom, doubtless, you
have frequently heard"]
No ! she was in a false position, but she had
placed herself there by her own folly, and there
must she i-emain till that fatal promenade was
over.
After leaving the village, sidewalks ceased and
their path lay through the muddy road. Xo
sound was heard but the voice of the storm, until
Mr. Ogden, who had apparently been forgetting
his companion's very existence, said kindly,
ONE SUMMER. 27
" I hope I am not taking you too far out of
your way. This road is hard travelling in wet
weather."
" It is not too far," she answered in a low voice,
and with a twofold meaning of which he was un-
conscious. She was actually taking grim delight
in her penance. She felt that the tiresome walk
was no more than she deserved to endure. To
his mild conversational effort she responded by a
brief inquiry as to the^ condition of his eyes.
" Eyes are obstinate things when hurt," he said
pleasantly. " Probably 1 sutler more from this
evening's accident on account of their previous
weakness. There 's a wretched fatality about
sensitive eyes. Everything is certain to get into
them, - cinders in the cars and umbrellas dark
nights, for instance. But I assure you they are
infinitely less painful than they would imve been
had I been forced to expose them to the wind and
rain and grope my way alone. It was the strain
of trving to keep this invalid fellow on the alert
which I dreaded, and so I ventured to trouble
you. I am very grateful to you for the relief your
presence affords me."
She knew that he must be still suffering. Evi-
dently he w T ould not permit the rude girl who had
caused the injury to perceive how much harm she
had done. That was generous in him ; yet he
spoiled it all by that indefinable tone in his voice.
It was not condescension, nothing so disagreea-
ble as that. It was more like the over-punctili-
ousness with which one remembers to thank an
inferior who does one a service. It was too care-
28 OXE SUMMER.
ful, too formal for equality, and it piqued her.
She did not therefore feel amiable, and she made
no reply to his acknowledgment.
They walked on in silence, and soon she saw a
light in a house which they were approaching. It
was the Holbrook cottage. All the lights were
out except this one at a chamber window. His
room, she thought, as she noticed a porcelain
shade softening the glare.
They reached the door of the cottage. She
stopped. He quickly pushed up the bandage.
" Are we here at last 1 " Then as he glanced up
to his window, he gave a slight exclamation of
pain. " I beg your pardon," he said, " the lid
seems quite helpless, and an acute pain took me
unawares as I looked up." She turned to go.
There was a slight awkward silence; then her
warm heart conquered her pride and pique.
" I am very sorry. I hope it will be better
soon." She spoke in a low, constrained voice. He
said,
" Thank you. I imagine it will amount to
very little." Then rapidly, as if fearing interrup-
tion, " You have done me a great service. Do not
think I offer this in payment, only perhaps you
know of a book or " apparently doubting the
intellectual aspirations of his guide "a little
ribbon you may fancy, and if you will buy it in
remembrance of my gratitud"e, you will" make
me still more indebted to you." Putting her
umbrella in her hand and with it a bank-note,
with a hasty good-night, he opened the door,
passed in, and closed it again before the girl had
ONE SUMMER. 29
recovered from the overpowering amazed indigna-
tion into which the last and most unexpected turn
of affairs had plunged her.
Money ! Had he dai'ed give her money ] Insult-
ing ! Incredible ! She could have screamed with
rage and humiliation. She never once thought of
dropping it where she stood. After the first parox-
ysm of hurt and angry pride had passed, she held it
crushed feverishly in her hand, and accepting it as
the most cruel discipline she had yet undergone,
the crowning torture of this wretched evening, but
in no way to be escaped from, she turned from the
hateful spot and started towards the village.
Her walk was sadly fatiguing. The excitement
which had before sustained her and enabled her to
struggle gayly with the storm was succeeded by
extreme depression. The reaction had come. The
rumbling of distant thunder warned her to hasten.
The condition of the road, her weary feet and
drenched clothing, made her progress slow. At
last, as a vivid flash of lightning, accompanied by
an ominous peal, illumined her path, she reached
the house. The door was unfastened. The lamp
still stood upon the parlor mantel. Cold, almost
exhausted, enraged with herself, and bitterly de-
nouncing the obtuseness of Mr. Philip Ogden, she
wearily ascended the stairs and shut herself in her
room.
She removed her wet clothing, put on a warm
wrapper and slippers, let down her hair, and seated
herself in a low rocking-chair for a resume of the
evening's woes. Her present physical comfort be-
gan to influence her views. Things did not look so
30 ONE SUMMER.
utterly disgraceful as when she was wandering,
forlorn and fatigued, out in the black night. Ah,
but the money ! How it had burned her hand all
the way back ! She rose and took the crumpled
bill from her dressing-table. She smoothed it out
with scrupulous care. She examined it with cyni-
cal interest on both sides. She turned it up and
down, laid it upon her toilet-cushion, then pinned
it up on the wall, and studied the eft'ect. Two
dollars Mr. Ogden had munificently bestowed upon
her in token of his grateful appreciation of her ser-
vices. She looked in the little mirror with a sar-
castic smile that said : " Leigh Doane, you have
not lived in vain. You have turned an honest
penny. You have fairly earned two dollars." What
should she do with it? Keep it for a time as a
reminder of the Valley of Humiliation through
which she had passed, and then drop it in the
charity-box at the church-door] Yes, that would
do. She laid it in her writing-desk and sat down
again to think.
A scene from one of Madame d'Arblay's novels
flashed into her head. It was tha-t thrilling mo-
ment in " Cecjlia " where the adoring lover finds
himself alone with his charmer in a storm. The
aristocratic maiden becomes pallid, imbecile, and
limp, according to the invariable custom of the
heroine of the old-fashioned romance, when the
slightest mental or physical exertion is demanded
of her. He is nearly frantic with excess of emo-
tion at actually being in the presence of his adored
one, with no lady's-maid, companion, or , stately
duenna to protect her from his timorous advances.
ONE SUMMER. 31
The storm increases. She trembles with fear.
Her step falters. The lover observes this with
exceeding solicitude, and the exigencies of the
case tempting him to disregard conventional bar-
riers, the rash impetuous youth ventures upon the
unheard-of familiarity of offering his arm as a sup-
port to the gentlest and most inefficient of her sex.
Aware that the license of his conduct, though pal-
liated by the unprecedented circumstances, was,
nevertheless, open to censure in its departure from
the code of etiquette in vogue in the painfully
rarefied atmosphere of extremely high life, yet
quite overcome with the rapture of having her
finger-tips resting confidingly upon his coat-sleeve,
in tones of subdued ecstasy he exclaims, " Sweet,
lovely burden, 0, why not thus forever ! "
When this picture of the astounding difficulties
attending the course of true love in the olden time
had first presented itself to her, it had been a
source of great amusement. Indeed, many novels,
dear, no doubt, to her grandmother, were wont to
convulse her with irreverent mirth. Could any-
thing be funnier than the stilted phraseology of
those lovesick, perplexed swains, and the laments
of the lachrymose heroines who wring their hands
frantically on all occasions, and evince a chronic
incapacity for doing anything of the least use to
any human being] She had sometimes congratu-
lated herself upon being commonplace Leigh Doane
in the present state of society, instead of a Sophro-
nia Belinda Araminta Clarissa Mac Ferguson un-
der the old regime. But never had the contrast
between then and now, between the lifeless but
32 ONE SUMMER.
highly decorous demeanor of the model girl of the
past " period " and the extravagant wilfulness of
her own conduct, struck her so forcibly. Madame
d'Arblay's representation of maidenly propriety,
the "ever-lovely Miss Beverly," had nearly fainted
in the fiery ordeal of walking a short distance with
an esteemed gentleman friend in broad daylight.
She, on the contrary, a girl most carefully reared
according to modern ideas, had manifested' suffi-
cient discreditable vigor to nearly annihilate an
unknown man, and had then walked by his side
and guided his steps over a long, rough country-
road, in intense darkness and a violent storm.
She remembered mild, timid, clinging Cecilia, and
smiled. She thought of fearless, self-confident
Leigh, and groaned.
Now if he had only thrust an umbrella into her
eye, how much better it would have been ! It is
woman's province to suffer, and it would have been
the most natural thing in the world for her to
meet with an accident ; quite romantic had she
leen obliged to accept the escort of an unknown
gentleman, who would eloquently protest that he
never could forgive himself for his awkwardness,
and who would prove to be Tom's old friend.
But how unnatural, how ridiculous, for her to
savagely charge at him, and then in silence, like
a bashful, stupid rustic, take the wounded man
to his destination ! The former case would have
been like some piquant little adventure in a book.
As it actually happened, it was grotesquely trans-
posed, and all wrong. What would Bessie say 1
Tom should never know. He would tease her too
OXE SUMMER. 33
unmercifully. And as for his friend, Mr. Ogden,
whose mental vision must be as blind as were his
outward eyes, she would never, never meet him if
she could help herself, and she would despise him,
upon principle, all her life. " My good girl " Here
an overwhelming consciousness of the utter ludi-
crousness of the aftair from beginning to end rushed
over her, and she laughed aloud. Peal after peal
of nervous hysterical laughter burst from her lips,
until the tears rolled down her cheeks. Luckily
Miss Phipps was too remote to be roused by this
untimely merriment, or she would have risen in
alarm, fearing for the sanity of her young guest.
The ebullition proved a relief. It carried away
much self-reproach and chagrin from the girl's
mind. It left regret and some humiliation, but
also the more cheerful tendency to look upon Mr.
Ogden's uncalled-for generosity as an enormous
joke rather than as the personal insult she had
been inclined to consider it, and she laid her .head
on her pillow more happily than she would have
deemed possible an hour before. But immutability
is not a characteristic of one's emotions at twenty.
Her experience that evening had been a varied one,
and she had passed through a thousand phases of
feeling.
Her last thought as she closed her eyes was,
'' ' Perhaps you may stumble against him some-
where,' you wise, prophetic Tom ! "
34 OXE SUMMER.
CHAPTER III.
" He would have passed a pleasant life of it in despite of the Devil
snd all his works, if his path had not been crossed by a being that
causes more perplexity to mortal man than ghosts, goblins, and the
whole race of witches put together, and that was a woman."--
WASHINGTON IRVING.
JHERE are eyes and eyes. Popular preju-
dice leans towards fine eyes in works of
fiction, but as a faithful historian this
chronicler must dispassionately state that
Philip Ogden's were not such as should appertain
to the hero of a love-story. They did not glare
fiercely from beneath shaggy brows, like those mar-
vellous deep-set gray ones of a certain school of
romance, nor were they in the habit of assuming
a cold and inscrutable expression to the world at
large, and then " melting dangerously," whatever
that may mean, for the especial delectation of one
favored mortal ; neither could they flash, nor bum,
nor frighten people with a steady ominous glow,
nor, in short, execute any feats of a pyrotechnic na-
ture. At their best, viewed in the friendliest light,
they were ordinary blue eyes, with a sufficiently
sensible and agreeable expression, in which, perhaps,
lurked a remote suggestion that Mr. Ogden might
not need to have the point of a joke explained to
him. It may also be said that they were extremely
near-sighted, and apt to feel weary and overworked
unless used with care. As they were not likely to
ONE SUMMER. 35
recover easily from violent shocks, it is evident
that Miss Doane's umbrella made an injudicious
selection of a victim. In this opinion Mr. Ogden
would no doubt have fully concurred.
The fair summer morning stole into his room
and found him sleeping in serene unconsciousness
of coast-storms, pugnacious girls with umbrellas,
his disfigured countenance, and all sublunary ills.
But the crowing and quacking and lowing, and
the other noises whose distant echoes sound so
sweetly in pastoral poems, and " voices of men
and voices of maids," and more especially the
far-resounding twang of the mistress of the farm
mustering her forces, conspired to rouse him at an
early hour from his blissful ignorance. With the
aid of a hand-mirror and his one available eye, he
examined the puffed-out, angry-looking cheek and
swollen, closed lid which marked the ravages of the
destroyer.
" That was a fell swoop, but the blow was ad-
mirably aimed. If you had struck higher you
would have put out my eye ; lower, you would
have loosened a few teeth. You punched better
than you knew, my fair Phyllis."
He carefully closed every blind and drew every
curtain, shutting out the "jocund day,'' whose ever-
increasing radiance he had no eyes to see ; and, like
a boy afraid of ghosts, w r ho whistles in the dark to
keep up his courage, he hummed the cheerful and
appropriate ditty,
" There was a man in our town,
And he was wondrous wise ;
He jumped into a bramble-bush,
And scratched out both his eyes,"
3G OKE SUMMER.
as he renewed his bandages and placed a bottle
of arnica which he regarded as his only friend
at a convenient distance from the sofa upon
which he finally threw himself, painfully aware
that he was a doomed man for that day, and for
how much longer he knew not.
" Time and arnica make a powerful combina-
tion, and will heal my woes as they have healed
worse ones before now. ' From him who hath not
shall be taken away even that which he hath.'
' Grin and bear it,' is sound philosophy, and is, after
all, only Epictetus condensed. Grin, I may. Bear
it, I must. Upon the whole, I think I will grin."
And something of the nature of a smile played
about his distorted features, giving him a sardonic
and unarniable aspect of which he was quite un-
conscious, and quickly followed by a very unphilo-
sophical yawn and sigh. The circumstances were
not conducive to philosophy, and the young man
did not feel like a hero. Things looked uncom-
monly doleful. He was not sublime. He was
not pathetic. He was simply ridiculous, and he
knew it. It occurred to him that not one of the
grand old philosophers could have posed much for
future generations, situated as he was. " Philos-
ophy is a delusion and a snare," he thought. " It
is easier to write sage truths and be stoical on
paper, than to evince much grandeur of spirit
lying in dressing-gown and slippers on a hard sofa
in a commonplace farm-house, with an aching head
and a black eye. Now I might summon Jimmie
up here, and, folding my toga solemnly about me,
show him ' how sublime a thing it is to suffer and
OXE SUMMER. 37
be strong,' but Jim has nut that meek and lowly
spirit which is an ornament to youth. I fancy
my visage might excite unseemly mirth in the
little rascal, and moral maxims, issuing from
arnica bandages, would be apt to lose their
potency. How in the name of all that is won-
derful did the girl manage to do so much mis-
chief without doing morel" he asked himself.
"If that umbrella may the foul fiend fly away
with it ! had had a pointed end Why,
how did the thing end] It was small, light, a
lady's umbrella. Where his hand had rested
there was a cross. He now remembered feeling
the horizontal piece of metal, was it not? It
all came back to him plainly. A pretty little um-
brella, probably, with a silver cross oil it, perhaps,
and some sort of an ornament on the 5lher end,
which was, thank Heaven, blunt ! in short, an
umbrella such as city girls carry. Odd for this
girl to have such elegant belongings. Yet life is
an enigma. Jane Maria Holbrook went to the
pasture "to call the cattle home" with a black
lace mask veil strapped tight over her sharp nose.
She too, poor child, has aspirations !
At this moment Jane Maria knocked and gig-
gled at the door. It is perhaps superfluous to
say she giggled. She knocked, is sufficient. The
giggle accompanied and followed every act and
speech of the ingenuous Jane Maria. She was
nineteen, and she read the New York Ledger.
Mr. Ogden was not an Adonis, under the most
favorable circumstances : but Jane Maria thought
him " perfickly splendid," he was so much like
38 ONE SUMMER.
Lord Romaine Cecil Beresford in the " Haunted
Homes of Hillsdale ; or, The Thrilling Three." Mr.
Ogden told her to come in, and the girl ventured
to open the door, then stood in real distress to
see the man so like her favorite hero in the " H.
H. of H.," etc., lying on a sofa with a ghastly white
handkerchief spread over his aristocratic features,
and revealing to her troubled gaze only a portion
of that noble brow which was the counterpart of
Lord R. C. B.'s in the electrifying romance before
mentioned. Mr. Ogden spoke in his usual tone,
thereby dissipating any vague fears that he had
been cruelly wounded by base ruffians while wend-
ing his way over the gloomy health.
" Miss Jennie, I ran against something last night,
and hurt my eve a little. Please tell your mother
I do not wish any breakfast, and that I have
everything I need."
Jane Maria was a silly child, no doubt, but she
had a good heart, and she was very sorry to see
Lord Romaine, that is, Mr. Ogden, in so helpless
a condition, and she did not believe he was com-
fortable, and she stood swinging the door and
agitating her elbows and blushing violently; all
of which Mr. Ogden knew quite as well as if his
eyes had been wide open and fastened upon her.
He did not know, however, that her very soul
overflowed with gratitude every time he addressed
her as " Miss Jennie," a kindly softening of the
detested Jane Maria which he had chanced upon
only because " Miss Holbrook " failed, he had dis-
covered, to distinguish the daughter from the
mother.
ONE SUMMER. 39
" If there is anything I could do, Mr.
she faltered, almost saying Beresford, and, in her
confusion, not daring to attempt Ogden.
" Nothing, thank you, Miss Jennie, unless " -
feeling her disappointment "you- would have
the kindness to bring me some fresh water."
She left him and soon returned with the water
and the maternal Holhrook, who came up with
the evident intention of staying an hour or two
and learning all the particulars of the accident.
It required the exercise of much tact and irresisti-
ble gentleness of manner, which was perhaps his
peculiar charm, to undermine the curiosity of his
hostess and baffle her cross-questioning without
giving offence, and to plead a nervous headache
and increased inflammation of his eye if he were
not left in perfect quiet. He knew enough of
Edgecomb ways to feel tolerably certain that a
plain statement of the facts of the case would be
more than sufficient to cause the circulation of
marvellous fables in which perhaps would figure
a legion of young Amazons armed with gigantic
umbrellas, and there would be nothing whatever
left of him. Mrs. Holbrook went down to her
household cares hardly realizing, until her de-
parture, that she had gained no information con-
cerning Mr. Ogden's affairs, and then formed a
theory of her own, that her "city young man"
had fallen down and hurt himself, and was
ashamed to tell of it, which wise conclusion she
boldly advanced as an historical fact ; while poor
little freckled Jane Maria went about in a dream
all day, and looked upon Lord Ro Mr. Ogden's
40 ONE SUMMER.
accident as a beautiful mystery into which she
could not and would not penetrate.
As for the young man himself, he enjoyed the
encounter, but was thankful that it was brief, and,
as Mrs. Holbrook finally twanged out her adieus
and left him weak yet victorious, he applied his
arnica and water with a placid smile, and thought
that after all there were evils in life worse than
a bruised eye and solitude. Yet the woman meant
well. She was shrewd enough too. Considerable
strategic ability was necessary to turn her ques-
tions out of their course without letting her see
what he was doing. " She probably could assist
with cool nerve and steady hand at the amputa-
tion of a man's leg, but what does she know of
the aesthetics of a sick-room? She would drive
one into a nervous fever, with her questions, her
diabolical voice, and her heavy step. And Jane
Maria too, poor girl, how she giggles, and rattles
the door-knobs, and works those elbow T s ! " Thus
he mused more in sorrow than in anger. He had
supposed there were some things which all women
knew by intuition. That refinement, training,
were non-essentials in a sick-room, that the wo-
manly heart was the one thing needful. Well, it
was only another lost illusion. Holbrook, mere,
might have a womanly heart. He certainly knew
nothing to the contrary. But she could never be
anything but elephantine. He was inclined to
believe too that little Jennie could never learn
to pour water without deluging everything; still,
she was young and might admit of reform.
Through the long day he lay dozing, thinking,
ONE SUMMER. 41
smoking, listening to the busy sounds from below,
occasionally pacing up and down his room, but re-
turning gladly enough to his couch, finding more
relief there than elsewhere. He was a man who
knew little of what he had called the aesthetics of
a sick-room, except from vague recollections of his
childhood and from theory; but, falling towards the
close of the day into a mildly sentimental revery,
he fancied that it might be an agreeable sensation
to have soft hands quietly, and unsolicited, mois-
ten his bandage when the fever in his face heated
it ; that a favorite poem or attractive essay, read
with the sweet and appreciative intonation which
would unquestionably be a special charm of that
" not impossible she," would be not only an in-
describable relief to the monotony of such a day,
but a blessing for which he thought he should know
how to be sufficiently grateful. Yes, his ideal
woman would have all the graces of the art of
ministering. Her boots would never creak. Her
dress ' would never rustle. She would not annoy
him with a perennial giggle, nor shake the rafters
vvith her massive tread. She would, in short, he
concluded, disgusted with his own poor perform-
ance of the role of sister of mercy, be a perfect
woman nobly planned to administer cool bandages
with skill and despatch, and without sending rivu-
lets to penetrate his left ear, as he was then doing.
How would the mingled fumes of arnica and an
unlimited number of cigars impress this paragon
whom he was in imagination introducing into his
apartment, he wondered, as he ventured, now that
the sun had almost set, to throw open the blkjds
42 OXE SUMMER.
of an east window. She would manage in *ome
way to make things pleasanter, no doubt. Girls
knew how, he supposed. She might sprinkle eau-
de-cologne on his pillow and about the room, per-
haps. A man would not think of coddling himself,
but he was not sure that he might not like that sort
of thing well enough if it were done for "him, he ad-
mitted with that gracious condescension men some-
times evince towards ways essentially feminine.
At all events, he could testify that the room was
unpleasantly close, and the smell of arnica inhaled
steadily for more than a dozen hours an unmit-
igated bore. Where was it lately he had noticed
an especially delicate perfume 1 Not last night,
was it ? Ah, yes ! He recalled the circumstance
now. It was when that shy damsel was tying the
handkerchief for him, and again as he stood near
her a moment down at the door. He reflected,
smilingly, that he had felt savage, infuriated, like
any other wounded animal he supposed, conse-
quently in no mood to appreciate perfumes; were
they wafted from Araby the Blest, or to speculate
upon evidences of refinement in an Edgecomb belle ;
but it struck him now, lying smoking and musing
at his leisure, as singularly incongruous that she
should fancy a faint, delicious odor. Now if it had
been musk, double extract of musk, Jane Ma-
ria would like that, he was sure. Was it violet 1
Of that he could not be quite certain. But whether
it floated from her hair, from glove or ribbon, some-
thing dainty and lady-like there had been, he was
positive. And starting up suddenly was he a
fool that he had not thought of it before 1 she
ONE SUMMER. 43
walked like a lady. He had escorted Jane Maria
to "meetin"' one evening. She had taken his arm
as if it were a remote and dreaded contingency.
This girl, on the contrary, had accepted it as an arm
simply, and leaning slightly upon it, had moved in
spite of wind and rain, and the poor condition of
the road, with the elasticity and firmness of a per-
son whose feet are used to city pavements, and
whose mind is used to the friction of city life. Her
gait was a forcible contrast to the slow, heavy, aim-
less step, prevalent, he had observed with surprise, in
Edgecomb. For where should one look for health
and energy, if not among country girls 1 he won-
deringly asked himself. Yet the rapid, vigorous
step the fresh color which he would have frequent
occasion to admire, a cool, clear day, on any pleas-
ant avenue in a city, he had not once seen in this
breezy village, where the air was so pure and invig-
orating it was almost enough to make the lame
walk. To which class, then, did she belong, this
mysterious escort with the erect, spirited carriage,
the mystical, faint fragrance, the gloved hands, the
elegant though vicious umbrella, and the accent,
yes, unquestionably, the accent of a lady 1 Although
her words were few, any man not an egregious dolt
would have observed, in spite of personal discom-
fort, her manner of speaking. How, then, did she
happen to be out 1 That was not his affair, cer-
tainly. She must have thought his coolness sa-
tanic. Gave her some money too ! H'm ! And
he lay back on his sofa in mute, inglorious despair,
for the consciousness that the girl was a lady had
burst upon him like a revelation, with overwhelm-
44 ONE SUMMER.
ing force. He could not doubt it. His conviction now
was as strong as bis utter obliviousness had been
before. He muttered a few energetic imprecations
upon his selfish stupidity, but was nevertheless in-
tensely amused at the unconscionable aspect of
affairs.
A woman ! A woman, of course, or all would
yet be well ! A man would have defined his posi-
tion at once in some way. A man would have
declined taking the extra walk, or he would have
taken it as a friend in need, or he would have gone
with the hope of reward, had he belonged to the
class that pockets fees. In either event there
would be no more trouble. But now ! No more
free enjoyment of the lavish summer for him ! No
more lying about lazily, yet with a clear conscience,
feeling that it is " enough for " him " that the
leaves are green," and " that skies are clear and
grass is growing." Ah, what a huge humble pie
it would soon be his doom to swallow !
I must find her and ask her pardon on my knees ;
but what is an apology, after dragging her a couple
of miles and paying her like a coachman 1 My mis-
sion in Edgecomb is revealed, at all events. For-
tunately, in this communicative hamlet, it will not
be difficult to ascertain who she is and where she
is staying. " It is curious," he said aloud, and
with great deliberation and emphasis, " how com-
pletely a man will sometimes stultify himself !
Blind, imbecile coxcomb ! "
ONE SUMMER. 45
CHAPTER IV.
" The prudent penning of a letter."
EDGECOMB, Friday, July 6, 18 .
SWEETEST, my sister, was it for this I
toiled and suffered ? Was it for this I turned
Miss Phipps's theories and rooms topsy-turvy,
and hammered my fingers, and tore the trim-
ming off my sleeve 1 The talent I have displayed as
an upholsterer and general decorator is surprising,
and my acrobatic feats, if I may so classify balancing
myself upon chair-backs and certain inevitable results
which might reasonably be called " lofty tumbling,"
truly admirable in an inexperienced performer. And
if you could have the faintest idea of what I have
been able to accomplish with that commonplace and
insignificant thing, an umbrella, you and Tom would
be perfectly amazed. But, as the books say, " we an-
ticipate."
Bessie, it grieves me to the heart to think that before
you come the first bloom will have vanished from my
triumph of art, the great high -backed chair upon which
I have nearly exhausted my genius and my chintz.
Yesterday afternoon I drew, it up to a window where
one looks out on a charming little picture framed by
the branches of two beautiful elms that stand near the
house, the pretty, sloping common, and old, old sun-
dial in its centre, and its other edge bordered by elms,
and behind them a row of quaint cottages, beyond, a
glimpse of the river, and still beyond, the hills with
their lovely, changing lights. In a few moments you
would be there. Everything did look so pretty, Bessie.
46 OXE SUMMER.
I turned on the threshold to give a parting glance into
your room before I went down to the door to wait for
the stage. A light breeze just rustled the fresh chintz
curtains, gently shaking their pretty, pale blue morn-
ing-glories and humming-birds, and carried through
the room a faint fragrance of mignonette and pansies,
and there was the dear old chair waiting to receive you,
rnd looking positively expectant. It really has a great
deal of expression, and it had such an inviting, hospita-
ble air, such a benevolent and expansive smile, that
I had to give it a little pat of approval every time I
went near it. Everything was ready, and I was so
happy, and was fancying how delightful it would be
to usher you up to your nest, and, pointing to the cur-
tains and toilet-table and the various things I had
prepared for your comfort and pleasure, modestly, yet
with pardonable pride, say, " These are my jewels."
Just then I heard the stage. Out of the house I
" flung," why may I not say it if Robert Browning
does ? I stood at the gate and watched that ancient
vehicle toil up the hill. Imagine my distracted state
of mind when it actually went lumbering by. I could
not believe my eyes. No Bessie, no baby, no Tom !
Like that pathetic " dove on the mast as we sailed fast,"
I did " mourn, and mourn, and mourn." With a deso-
late, moated-grange sensation, I turned and went into
the house. At the door stood Miss Phipps, eying me
curiously.
" Oh ! yer folks did n't arrive, did they ? Oh ! "
I replied with some dignity, and a huge lump in my
throat, that something apparently had detained my
friends. I passed up stairs. What a change in those
few moments! The sky had grown cloudy. The
breeze was chilly and damp. The distant hills looked
cold and gray. The curtains suggested the A-anity of
all human hopes. The chair stood a great clumsy,
melancholy monument to the transitory nature of
happiness.
ONE SUMMER. 47
For an individual who has always professed to doubt
the efficacy of tears, I had a singularly strong inclina-
tion to cry. The disappointment was so sudden, so
bewildering, you see. i could not stay up there. I
grew too homesick. I closed the windows and door
and wandered about drearily, and then 1 sat down in
the porch, watching the clouds gathering fast, and
waited there " exceeding comfortless " until a small
boy for whose trustworthiness Miss Phipps vouches,
and whom. I have engaged to bring my letters, ap-
peared with Tom's document, and I learned my fate.
.Al} Mercury, otherwise Jimmie Holbrook, seated him-
self on the fence, whistled " Shoo Fly," swung his feet
vigorously, and stared at me intently as I opened my
letter. I glanced up, and said solemnly,
" That will do, James. I do not want you any
longer."
Could any one have received a more direct dismissal ?
You imagine that he at once retreated respectfully from
the presence, do you /
Ou the contrary, he smiled in an imperturbable man-
ner, and responded cheerfully,
" Well, you ain't likely to have me any shorter.
Fences is free, and I like yer looks ! "
This astounding declaration silenced me. Reflecting
that Jimmie probably had not a judicious mamma,
and feeling rather grateful to the child for diverting
me in my sadness by his good-humored impudence, I
read and reread Tom's letter and yours, and meditated
gloomily until the " silent mist came up and hid the
land," and the air grew more damp and more salt every
moment, and finally down came the rain. Down also
came that terrible child from his post of observation.
He responded to my " Good night, Jimmie," with
singularly explosive shrieks and uncouth pirouettes,
and started off in a rapid and impish manner for his
home. And I went in to my lonely supper, a cold,
forlorn, homesick, wretched girl.
48 ONE SUMMER.
And afterwards Bessie, I could a tale unfold .
But I will not, because you have a Tom who hears all
your secrets. If I disgrace the family while I stay
here, remember it will be his fault, for he left me. Do
not be alarmed. Phipps and I have not come to blows
yet, though what may result from my sojourn remains
to be seen. I have certainly developed some hitherto
latent traits, or " tricks and manners," perhaps I should
say, and it is impossible to tell where I shall stop.
There is a room here that is positively maddening if
you stay in it long enough, and there are electrical
currents in the Edgecomb atmosphere that make
" gleams and glooms " dart across one's brain in an
inexplicable way, and my conduct has been most
strikingly original, wherein lies a pointed joke, and
yet no joke.
As you must see, there is a burden on my conscience.
I shall never rest until I make my confession. But
not to-day. It is too soon, and then, there 's Tom.
It is a glorious morning. You will enjoy the air
here so much, and the views, which are charming in
every direction. I am going out directly to mail my
voluminous letter, and to discover the pleasantest walks
in this pretty neighborhood. I have resolved to be
as cheerful as circumstances will permit. I am not
yet "reconciled," but have recovered from the first
crushing effects of my grief. I am " beginning to take
notice," as some one said about our friend the pretty
widow. Something has partly turned my attention
from my disappointment, and set my thoughts running
in curious channels. My secret is on the tip of my
pen, and dying to drop off. To-morrow, perhaps I will
disclose my guilt in its enormity. Bessie, of course I
have done nothing darkly and desperately wicked, but
do come quickly. I am not so reliable as I thought I
was. Tom's confidence in what he is pleased to call
my " clear little head " is sadly misplaced. Everybody
has been mistaken in me always.
ONE SUMMER. 49
Have I told you what a furious storm there was
last night 1 It made a greater impression on me than
ever a storm did before, and I am not the only person
in Edgecomb who has reason to remember it.
Grow strong very, very fast, kiss baby for me, and
make Tom bring you soon to Edgecomb and
Your loving
LEIGH.
Accompanying this epistle was the following :
Thanks for your letter, my dear Tom, and I may
eventually thank you for allowing your " business com-
plications " to detain you, but I must confess I do not
feel grateful yet. There is, I suppose, a law of com-
pensation, and no loss without some gain, they say,
and Edgecomb may have something beautiful in
store for me, but it has not begun well. Do hurry,
Tom ; that 's a dear boy. Never mind business. And,
Tom, you need not give yourself the trouble to hunt
up that friend of yours, that Mr. Ogden, and send him
to call upon me. I do not think I would like him.
I know I should not. I am convinced he is " exactly
the style of man" I always heartily dislike. Please
don't, Tom !
50 ONE SUMMER.
CHAPTER V.
"You lazy, not very clean, good-for-nothing, sensible boy!"
THACKERAY.
rHE umbrella catastrophe enforced upon
Mr. Ogden a week's seclusion, in which
the stupidity of one day differed but
slightly from the stupidity of another.
An avalanche of questions fro en Mrs. Holbrook,
concerning the smallest details of his previous
history as well as his intentions for the future,
threatened daily to overwhelm him, but, thanks
to his mental agilitv, he escaped. He gradually
learned to consider each contest with her a matu-
tinal tonic, unpleasant but strengthening. Before
her advent he fortified himself. He studied an
unsatisfactory and mystifying style of conversa-
tion. He intrenched himself behind the longest
words in his vocabulary, and when they failed he
did not hesitate to coin longer ones. The sub-
terfuges to which he resorted in order to shorten
her visits were invented with rapidity and ease,
and displayed a neatness of execution upon which
he congratulated himself, being but a novice in
the art of finessing.
Upon one occasion, when Mrs. Holbrook entered
his room, she found him lying with a handkerchief
over his face, his hands clasped peacefully on his
breast, while his gentle, regular respiration, placid
ONE SUM AI Eli. 51
as that of a sleeping infant, pleaded eloquently in
his behalf. Her step became no lighter, her voice
no less harsh and discordant out of consideration
for the invalid's nap, and Jane Maria as usual
convulsively played her Rondo Capriccioso upon
the door-knob, but nothing apparently could dis-
turb that beautiful repose. Though this artifice
routed the enemy, Mr. Ogden felt that a repeti-
tion of it might create suspicion in the least astute
mind, since Mrs. Holbrook's colossal presence
would have awakened the Seven Sleepers ; " and
then," he thought, " a man who from the nature
of his position idly dozes through a good deal of
the day and who has openly confessed to his tor-
mentors that he habitually sleeps well nights, can-
not reasonably be at it again at eight o'clock in
the morning. There 's a limit to all things." He
forbore, and developed other resources.
Once he greeted her with rambling, incoherent
words and confused utterance. He endeavored to
arrive at a golden mean between delirium and
idiocy. In this temporary derangement of the
intellect, he did not aim at wildness that would
alarm her, and cause her to summon her husband
and the laborers, the long sweep of whose scythes
he could hear near the house. Hopeless, impene-
trable dulness, absolute incapacity to receive or
impart ideas, was his artistic design. This he at
first regarded as magnificent strategy, and decided-
ly his best effort, but modified his views when, to
his horror, she came again that day. His faculties
were so benumbed by her unexpected appearance,
that, had she but appreciated her advantage and
52 ONE SUMMER.
pursued it skilfully, it is probable that he would
have told her everything he knew. He blessed
the unknown voice which called her down to her
own domain, and realizing that this time fate, and
not, as before, his own exertions, had extricated him
from his danger, consoled himself with the reflec-
tion that there must be one unguarded moment in
the life of the craftiest diplomatist.
These trials of skill were somewhat enlivening.
He also derived a mild excitement from obsei'ving
the new and startling hues which the variegated
cheek assumed as his swollen face gradually re-
gained its natural outline, and the endangered eye
feebly yet gladly beheld again the light of day.
Jane Maria blissfully served her wounded
knight's repasts, and evinced a sincere though
tremulous desire to do all in her power for his
comfort. One morning, when she inquired, as
usual, if he wished anything more, he abandoned
his formula, " Nothing, thank you, Miss Jennie,"
and surprised her by saying he thought he should
enjoy a call from Jim, if the boy did not object.
Why any person, not forced to submit to the in-
fliction of her mischievous brother's presence,
should deliberately seek it, was beyond her com-
prehension ; but Mr. Ogden's slightest wish was
law to this adoring soul, and inwardly responding,
"I fly, my lord, to execute thy mandate," she went
to find Jimmie.
Some time elapsed before he appeared. He had
.first to be discovered. This the loyal Jane ac-
complished after a vigorous search in his most
frequented haunts, and Jimmie was torn with a
ONE SUMMER. 53
ruthless hand from the innocent pastime of trying
to induce two superannuated roosters to pick out
.each other's eyes, and was half dragged, half coaxed
into the house. Here Jane Maria resigned the
command, and the child, thanks to his mother's
efficient generalship, after a sound of scuffling at
the foot of the stairs and other indications of a
family jar, finally presented himself before Mr.
Ogden.
It was evident that the pi'ospect of a tete-ci-tete
with the invalid, in what he had a moment before
distinctly and turbulently called "that darn poky
old room," was not alluring to Jimmie.
Mr. Ogden appreciated the boy's feelings, and
did not wonder at the somewhat morose aspect of
his young visitor.
"Ah, Jimmie, is that you 1 ? How are you to-day 1"
" Well enough," was the brief response.
" Sit down, won't you 1 "
" Can't stop. Ain't got time," the child replied,
with an uncompromising air. His terse style of
conversation was a refreshing contrast to Mrs. Hoi-
brook's volubility. Mr. Ogden had certain pro-
found reasons for desiring to propitiate Jimmie.
Ignoring the boy's dogged manner, he said care-
lessly,
" Any candy-shops in Edgecomb ]"
" Rather ! " Jimmie replied with emphasis.
"Jim, do you like taffy 1 ?" was the next signifi-
cant inquiry.
" You bet ! "
Here a silent transfer occurred.
Jimmie pocketed the " filthy palimpsest " with
54 ONE SUMMER.
a very slight increase of cheerfulness. His was not
one of those base natures with which money is all-
powerful. He still sighed for his freedom, for his.
roosters. He was mollified, not completely sub-
dued. Mr. Ogden, observing this, played his high-
est trump. Removing the damp cloth which he
still wore Upon his face, he said,
" What do you think of that for a black eye,
Jimmie 1 "
Liveliest interest was instantly depicted on the
child's countenance, as he eagerly asked,
" Who did yer fight 1 Did yer lick him ] "
Here was a dilemma. But Mr. Ogden could
not afford to lose the point he had gained. With
Machiavelian policy, he solemnly remarked,
" Jimmie, I always lick when I fight."
" Do yer, though 1 Honest ] Let 's feel yer
muscle."
W T ith much inward amusement, but with a per-
fectly grave face, Mr. Ogden submitted his arm to
the critical examination of his young visitor, who
manipulated his biceps with the air of a connoisseur,
and admiringly expressed unqualified approval.
" Reggler stunners, ain't they 1 "
Jimmie was won.
From that moment he was
" Rapt
By all the sweet and sudden passion of youth
Towards greatness in its elder,"
and looked upon Mr. Ogden as Lavaine upon
Launcelot with that
" Reverence,
Dearer to true young hearts than their own praise,"
ONE SUMMER. 55
or, to descend abruptly from Tennysonian heights
to Jimmie's level, and use a comparison within his
grasp, Mr. Ogden became as glorious in his eyes as
a champion prize-fighter, and the boy went freely
in and out of the room during the two remaining
days of the captivity, with a glad conviction that
he had found something more precious than
roosters.
Mr. Ogden promised to tell Jimmie some time
how he had received the bruise. Just now he
wished " nothing said about it." Jimmie gave a
knowing wink, and unhesitatingly swore secrecy.
Then, not only to advance his own interests, be-
cause Jimmie himself was a safer person to cate-
chise than any of Jimmie's kinsfolk, but because
he found the child's bright face and sturdy, honest
ways attractive, Mr. Ogden became fascinating in
the extreme, by asking about trout-streams, and
how far out they had to go for mackerel, and by
talking of wherries, of the impending circus, of
bird's-eggs, and finally he approached the impor-
tant and long-delayed topic.
" Are there many strangers in Edgecomb this
summer, Jimmie?"
" Well, there 's you," said the boy, " and there 's
some folks down to the tavern, and there 's my
girl, and that 's about all there is now, I guess.
Sometimes there 's more."
" And who might your girl be ? "
" Why, the one I take letters to," said Jim, draw-
ing himself up with dignity. " She gits a heap.
She 's had four, and she ain't been here two weeks
yet."
56 ONE SUMMER.
" Then you know her name, of course 1 "
"Once it was Miss L. L. Doane, and twice it
was Miss Doane, and the last time it was Miss
Laura Leigh Doane." .
" Doane, Doane," thought Mr. Ogden. " Who
was it married a Miss Doane while I w r as abroad ]
If I am not mistaken it was Otis. But it may not
be the same family. Nor Jim's young lady, my
young lady."
Jimmie went on,
" She 's to ole Miss Phippses, yer know. Her
folks was a-comin', but they ain't come yet.
She 's mighty anxious to get hold of her letters.
Ain't she spry, though, about pullin' 'em open an'
readin' 'em quick ! "
Mr. Ogden, having passed some weeks in Edge-
comb, could appreciate Miss Doane's eagerness to
hear from her friends. It was however yet to be
proven if it were she who had made upon him so
lasting an impression.
" I should imagine your young lady would be
lonely."
" She was kinder doleful at first, but mv ! she 's
chipper as a cricket now. You 'd oughter to see
her a-startin' off over the bridge. She just goes it !
She don't act much like our Jane M'ria, always
a-hangin' on to things," said the boy, scornfully,
" an', by thunder, ain't she a beauty ?"
" Why, Jim, I had no idea you were such a critic
of the fair sex," said Mr. Ogden, laughing.
" I rather guess I know when folks is good-look-
in'. Jane M'ria says she 's the image of the hotty
Lady I-mer-gin. She 's in one o' them Ledger yarns,
OXE SUMMER: 57
yer know. I never see T-mer-gin,- an' I don't want
ter, but this one 's got yaller hair an' 'big black
eyes. She an' I gits along first-rate," the little
fellow continued confidentially. " I showed her
the way to the ole fort ; an' she takes lots o' things
and goes over most ev'ry day."
" What do you mean by lots of things, Jimmie 1 "
" Well, she takes a readin'-book, an' a drawin'-
book, an' a basket for leaves an' things, yer know,
an' most ginrally a ombrell."
" Ah, she carries an umbrella, does she, this
Miss L. L. Doaue ] A wise precautionary meas-
ure, certainly. She is no doubt a prudent young
person. And what kind of an umbrella ? Did
you ever happen to notice it particularly ] "
" It 's got a shiny ball on top. Pewter, I guess.
An' a pewter cross-piece on the handle. It 's a
real jolly little ombrell."
" Very jolly," said Mr. Ogden, with decision.
" Why, yer -ain't seen it, have yerl" asked Jim-
mie, in surprise.
" No, I cannot say that I have ever actually
seen it. But I have a remembrance of once hold-
ing in my hand an umbrella similar to the one
you describe. And I coincide with your opinion
that it is jolly, very jolly indeed. And, Jimmie,
you are a fine boy. You shall go down the river
in my wherry as often as you like when I get out
again. I think we are going to be excellent
friends. Shake hands, Jimmie, and then you may
run away."
Jimmie blushed with pleasure. He had never
before been called a fine boy. He had never been
3*
58 ONE SUMMER.
in a wherry. He withdrew in a beatific state, and
Mr. Ogden was left to his reflection:*
" Circumstantial evidence is frequently at fault,
but the chances are ten to one in favor of Jimmie's
Miss Doane and my incognita being one and the
same person."
He gained additional information when he re-
ceived, the next day, this note. After reading it
he gave a long, low, and expressive whistle.
MY DEAR PHILIP, I have just learned with great
rejoicing that you are rusticating in Edgecomb, the
very place where I have just left my fair sister, Miss
Doane. I am detained here by business, and my wife
and I cannot get down for a few weeks, which leaves
Miss Doane in an unexpectedly lonely condition, and
fills Mrs. Otis's heart with anxious forebodings. Under
the. circumstances, she ventures to send her compli-
ments and say that she shall feel extremely grateful,
and infinitely safer about Miss Doane, if you will have
the kindness to call occasionally upon her, and if you
would telegraph us in case of any accident or trouble
of any kind, which we do not apprehend, of course ;
but Miss Doane does not know a person in the place,
and it is not agreeable' for us to think of her as an
exile, and we consequently hail you joyfully.
Harry Blake says he shall bring his yacht round
there during the summer, and that he expects you to
join him. We shall all be glad to see you again,
and -we '11 have a magnificent reunion on the Idle-
wild.
As ever, yours, etc.,
TOM Q. OTIS.
ONE SUMMER. 59
CHAPTER VI.
" Dost thou think I care for a satire or an epigram ? "
Much Ado About Nothing.
HE Saturday of the week following the
accident was a "gray day," with that
soft, moist atmosphere which, inland,
might predict rain, but which in Edge-
comb was often but a mild intimation of the prox-
imitv of old Neptune. Grateful for the cloudiness
which favored his eyes and his plans, Mr. Ogden
ventured out. He was in a cheerful frame of mind,
and physically in a tolerably good condition, wearing
only a " black and blue spot " of moderate size as
a memento of Miss Doane's "jolly little ombrell."
Having inquired of Jinimie which was Miss
Phipps's house, he started off at a brisk pace down
the road which he had last traversed under the
peculiar circumstances recorded.
Jimmie's admiring face watched him from the
porch.
Suddenly the young man's course was arrested
by an
" I say, wait for a feller, won't yer?"
He waited, and Jirnmie came springing towards
him.
" Look here. If it 's my girl you 're after, she
ain't likely to be ter home morniu's. The fort 's
yer best dodge."
60 ONE SUMMER.
Looking pleasantly at this wise young judge,
Mr. Ogden suid,
" Jim, vou are 'a youth whom fate reserves for a
bright future.' Thank you for giving your informa-
tion as you did, instead of from the steps, at the
top of your voice."
" I ain't in the habit o' tellin' much to the wo-
men-folks, they make such a darned gabble."
His lofty air and precocious assumption of manly
superiority were irresistible. Mr. Ogden laughed
and asked him his age.
" Thirteen next July," was the prompt answer.
"Just twelve, then?"
" Well, no, not precisely, I s'pose."
Here Mr. Ogden did Jimmie a momentary injus-
tice. He concluded that the boy's genius as a
profound observer of human nature was more
remarkable than his knowledge of arithmetic.
With a kindly, but wholly superfluous desire to
straighten the little fellow's tangled ideas, he
said,
" Why not 1 What day of the month was your
birthday 1 "
" T was n't no day. It 's goin' to be. It 's a
creepin' along thunderin' slow. It 's the thirty-
first."
" Indeed ! You count more rapidly than most
persons. As it is about the middle of July, I
should say you were twelve years old, and an un-
commonly smart boy at that."
" It depen's on how yer looks at it," Jimmie re-
turned coolly. " Thirteen next July is about my
kalkerlation."
ONE SUMMER. ^ 1
" If you wish to grow old so fast, why do you
not say you will be twenty-one, eight years from
the thirty-first day of next JulyT It would be
according to your principle, and might be still
more encouraging than your view of the matter."
Jimmie knew that the gentleman was quizzing
him, but adhered to his original line of argu-
ment.
" Cos 't ain't reasonable," he said stoutly, " and
t' other way is. Yer see," he explained, " I reckon
from the Fourth. It 's a jolly good day to start
from. When the bells begin to ring next Fourth-
of-July mornin', and the old cannon blazes away
on the Common, I shall say to myself, ' Ole feller,
you 're fourteen next year, sure 's yer born,' an' it
keeps my spirits up wonderful."
" You deserve to be a second Methuselah, if you
want to be. Good by, Jim. We understand each
other, do we 1 "
" Mum 's the word, sir," said the discreet boy ;
and Mr. Ogden resumed his walk.
Otis's letter, he thought, had lessened some of
his difficulties. Presenting himself and his abject
apologies before Miss Doane was less formidable
now that her family sanctioned their acquaint-
ance, even begged him to take a friendly inter-
est in her. " I shall plead guilty, but recommend
myself strongly to mercy. There is no getting
round the awkwardness of the affair ; but perhaps
she '11 be forgiving."
In this sanguine mood he approached Miss
Phipps's abode. Miss Doane was out. Having
left his card with the antique maiden, who at
62 ONE SUMMER.
once put on her spectacles and severely scrutinized
the name and the gentleman who bore it, he
lighted a cigar and passed down the hill which
led to the bridge. This ancient arid honorable
structure was nearly a mile in length and wide
enough for three old-fashioned stage-coaches to
drive abreast. It connected Edgecomb with an isl-
and, from which a second open bridge extended
to the opposite village of Romney. The chain
formed by the two bridges and the island was two
miles and a half long ; so that one, by going from
Edgecomb to Romney and returning, could take
a pleasant " constitutional " of five miles over the
bridges, with their charming views both up and
down the river, and through the fragrant wood-
road that ran across the island.
In Edgecornb's golden days its bridge was a
famous promenade and place of resort. There at
sunset the people would gather, old and young,
rich and poor, to walk, to talk, to see and be
seen, to watch the long light sweep across the
wide river and fade away behind the hills.
"There youths and maidens dreaming strayed."
There rose castles in the air without number.
There hearts were broken, sweet and bitter words
were said, and many sad farewells. It was a
gloomy old bridge crowded with phantoms; but
not one ghost of the past disturbed Philip Ogden's
peace of mind. He was glad to be a free man
again. The outer world looked pleasant to him
after his dull week in the farm-house. The dead
past was nothing to him, and his thoughts of the
ONE SUMMER. 63
bridge were altogether practical and commonplace.
He noticed that its timbers were rotten, its railing
feeble and tottering, dying of old age, and the
" selectmen " would not give it any Elixir of Life
in the shape of energetic repairs. He saw one
patch of fresher wood, where a heavily laden stage-
coach went through some years previous. " Com-
fortable predicament for the passengers. I believe
somebody told me the accident had not a tragical
termination. No lives were lost nor bones broken,
but I am not surprised that stages cross Edge-
comb bridge no more." It probably was not really
worth repairing. To let it alone or rebuild it
completely was the only thing to be done, and
Edgecomb had apparently decided upon the
former course. How long before it would fall 1
He leaned over the railing and looked at the
mouldering trestle-work, then glanced idly at the
countless initials, carved years and years before,
some perhaps by laughing children trooping noisily
down from school, some by happy lovers who
stood there dreamily watching the moon rise over
the hills, and asking blindly of the future what
it would never give them. The qiiaint letters
and symbols spoke a language which Philip, in
his tranquil mood, failed to interpret. He re-
garded unfeelingly a heart pierced by numerous
arrows, a pitiful design, emblematic, no doubt,
of much suffering. An old farmer in a creaking
wagon, jogging over to Edgecomb, nodded famil-
iarly, after the country fashion, to the young
man, who responded pleasantly and went on his
way.
64 ONE SUMMER.
He reached the island, and turned off from the
main road which crossed it into a winding path
which ran through the woods. Soon he came to
an opening. Here the land began to rise percepti-
bly towards the southern point of the island, where
a curious excavation, an old embankment, and frag-
ments of a wall marked the site of the fort.
He had not before visited this spot, and was
surprised at the extent of the view. West was
Edgecomb, thick with elms on its hill-slope,
crowned by a row of stately, sombre houses and
three white church-spires. On the east, Romney ;
and beyond each village the pretty hills rising
higher and higher in the distance ; while from his
elevated position he could follow the graceful
shore-line many miles.
" This is fine, but I presume I lose half of it.
I must bring a glass over here to-morrow." He
turned, walked a few steps leisurely in the direc-
tion of Romney, when he saw directly before him
an object which he needed no glass to appreciate.
Leaning against a rock, looking as guileless as if
it had never been an instrument of torture, was
an umbrella, the umbrella he could not well
doubt. He took it up and examined it with par-
donable curiosity. It- was a small black silk one,
with an ebony stick, having on one end a silver
cross, on the other the silver ball that did " mil-
lions of mischief"; and the missing link in the
chain of evidence stared him in the face from a sil-
ver band on which was engraved, " L. L. Doane."
He was extremely amused. He struck the palm
of his left hand lightly with that ornamental ball,
ONE SUMMER. 65
estimated its weight, and felt that he was a lucky
man. " If I were in reality Miss Doane's guardi-
an," he thought, smilingly, " I would take effectual
measures to keep her in the house stormy evenings,
not only for her own sake, but out of regard for
the safety of the public."
He inferred that she must be in the vicinity.
She probably had gone into the wood for flowers.
He might miss her should he seek her there. He
would await her return. Thus he reasoned, and
serenely anticipated making a pleasant acquaint-
ance.
Birch Point, one of the loveliest spots on the
shore below Edgecomb, was seen from the fort to
the best advantage.
" Perhaps Miss Doane will allow me to take her
out rowing. She might like that quiet little cove
over there. Ladies do not generally fancy too much
current." Certainly she might rely upon him for
any amusement he could afford her. She had the
strongest claim upon his services. There was
nothing that he would not do for Otis, and nothing
half good enough to do for her, in atonement for his
insolence. He presumed she would be an agreeable
girl. Otis's wife's sister ought to be. That was, to
be sure, a woman's method of reasoning, but he
fancied it would prove correct in this instance. A
strong ludicrous element at the beginning of an
acquaintance was often of use. It gave one a foun-
dation to build upon.
In this state of benign composure, making plans
as to drives and rows which he hoped would meet
with Miss Doane's gracious approval, he seated
66 ONE- SUMMER.
himself on the rock and took a cigar from his case.
As he turned to strike a match, an open sketch-
book suddenly arrested his attention. The gray-
ish tint of its leaves blended with the rock on
which it was lying, and had it not been near him
it would have escaped his notice. He gazed as if
spellbound. He was a man of honor, scrupulous
in trifles, yet he took that book in his two hands
and intently scrutinized each line on the pages
before him. " Every man has his price," is an
unpleasant misanthropical doctrine. It is more
agreeable, and perhaps as wise in the end, to forget
it, and dwell kindly upon the vast amount of temp-
tation poor human nature is sometimes enabled to
resist. Here was, no doubt, a real temptation to
Philip Ogden, and it would have been highly credit-
able to him had he, with his usual delicacy, virtu-
ously closed the book. But that vigorous, dashing
style of drawing was his price. He did not resist.
He succumbed completely. He was even guilty
of the enormous misdemeanor of reading what was
written as a motto for the sketches. And then this
misguided man threw back his head and laughed
loud and long, laughed as he had not since he
was a boy and had successfully carried out some
madcap prank at school.
" She's a veritable genius ! " he said. " She would
make a fortune for any illustrated newspaper in
the world. It is the richest thing I ever saw."
At the top of a page were, wickedly misapplied,
Shelley's lines,
" We look before and after,
And pine for what is not."
ONE SUMMER. 67
.
"BEFORE"
was the title of the first sketch, which depicted
this scene :
A pouring rain. A sharp corner where two vil-
lage streets meet, the one with an ascending, the
other with a descending slope. Upon what might
be called the down-grade, advancing furiously, was
a female figure drawn with much spirit. Her dra-
peries were flying in the wind. Her umbrella,
grasped in both hands, had a malignant, evil look,
an umbrella rampant, her resolute poise told
of contest with the storm, and strong determination
to go on in spite of it. While upon the other street,
unconscious of his doom, sauntering complacently
to meet it, was a man, and such a man ! It was
here that the genius of the artist had most forcibly
asserted itself. A dandy. A Turveydrop. A man
with his hat set jauntily on the side of his head.
A man whose buttonhole bouquet resembled a
display of " mammoth " vegetables, who looked as
if he pointed his toes when he walked and had
devoted an hour to his necktie, and whose face was
devoid of all meaning except the unutterable self-
sufficiency shown in the lines about the mouth. In
this picture collision was imminent, and upon the
next page its results were portrayed in
"AFTER."
A rough, hilly country-road, with gloomy woods
on both sides. Through wind and rain walk, arm
in arm, the two figures described. The surprised, .
indignant remonstrance of the girl's face was a
68 ONE SUMMER.
study. The man, the upper part of his face being
concealed by a handkerchief bound round his eyes,
still disclosed the turned-up corners of his odious
mouth, and minced along pompously, while most
malicious touch of all ! he held an umbrella well
over his own head, and in exactly the position that
would entail constant drippings on his companion's.
In the corner of each sketch was plainly written,
L. L. Doane. Thus had she revenged herself.
ONE SUMMER.
CHAPTER VII.
"What, my dear Lady Disdain ! Are you yet living?"
Much Ado About Nothing.
HILIP, engrossed by this masterly work
of art, did not hear a step on the soft
turf.
" When you have quite finished your
inspection, sir, I will trouble you for my sketch-
book," said a voice behind him dryly, and with a
sarcastic inflection that was unmistakable.
In an instant he threw away his cigar, sprang to
his feet, turned, took off his hat, and saw what he
never in after years forgot. A slight graceful fig-
ure in soft brown, standing erect before him, with
a wide flat basket filled with wild-flowers, ferns,
and mosses. Beneath a brown shade-hat, pushed
back from the face, wavy fair hair, a pale olive
skin, great dark eyes looking coldly at him, and
a mouth at that moment set haughtily in a man-
ner that boded no good.
Politely and inquiringly he said,
" Miss Doane ] "
She was a truthful girl, but her good angel for-
sook her, and she told a white lie.
" You have the advantage of me, sir."
She could not swear, possibly, that his name was
Ogden, but she had every reason to think that it
was. Did not that discolored cheek prove his iden-
70 ONE SUMMER.
tity ? He was not appalled by her icy demeanor,
which involuntarily reminded him of the "hotty
Lady I-mer-gin," and, restraining a smile which he
felt would not be well received by this severely
statuesque young lady, he replied,
"Pardon me. The advantage was certainly
yours before. It is yours now. It must of neces-
sity always remain with you."
Miss Doane in her varied reading had never
met with the Lady Imogen, whom she was sup-
posed to resemble, and she misinterpreted the
cause of the faint smile upon Mr. Ogden's lips.
Neither his cordial voice, nor his genial allusion to
their first meeting, nor the eminently conciliatory
character of his remark, found favor with her. With-
out replying, without indeed glancing at him, she
stooped, took from the rock a small volume which
had been concealed by the sketch-book, and which,
carefully lifting her violets and ferns, she placed
in her basket. She then passed by him for her
umbrella. Her movements were deliberate, and,
it was evident, preparatory to departure.
Philip realized that she was going because he
had come. His intentions in visiting her favorite
haunt were, as has been shown, most amicable.
The weapon that had wounded him he had sur-
veyed in a forgiving, even in a quizzical spirit.
The caricature, so clear an exponent of Miss
Doane's impression of him, he had examined with
imperturbable good-nature, admiring the humorous
talent it displayed, and sympathizing with the in-
censed artist. " I do not wonder that she thought
me a prig," was his amiable comment when study-
ONE SUMMER. 71
ing the unflattering sketches. But her continued
silence, under the circumstances aggressive in
itself, her indescribable frigidity, and her affecta-
tion of ignoring his presence, were enough to irri-
tate the meekest man. The genial look faded
from his face. And she quite exhausted his
patience when she finally said in an exasperatingly
indifferent way, standing before him and looking,
not at him, but with still eyelids and a fixed gaze
far beyond him down upon the river,
"Will you. have the kindness to give me my
book 1 "
He had unconsciously retained it.
With more serious apologies, he felt that to ask
her pardon for examining her sketches might not
be superfluous. He thought also of Tom's letter,
and of his own object in seeking her, an honest de-
sire to atone so far as possible for the past by the
proffer of unlimited service in future. But her
hauteur forbade the expression of his sentiments.
It seemed that an allusion ,to things of the past
was precisely what she wished to avoid.
" So be it, then. A man cannot talk to a statue
cut. in alabaster. Any reference to Tom is out of
the question. She scorns to conceal that I am
repugnant to her. Having no merits of my own, I
have no desire to prop myself up with Otis's. The
briefer the interview the better for both parties ! "
Such were his hasty reflections as she demanded
her property. For one moment he looked steadily
at her, then placed the book in her hand, and in a
tons quite as cold as her own, said simply,
" It is my place, Miss Doane, not yours, to with-
72 OXE SUMMER.
draw." Lifting his hat with grave courtesy, he
walked rapidly away aud soon disappeared among
the trees.
So they met again, and so they parted.
Had she received him with that gentle effusion
and highly flattering manner which most men
esteem " an excellent thing in woman," had she
tenderly sympathized with his misfortune, dep-
recatingly explained why she was out in the storm
that night, disarmed him with an appealing look
from under her long lashes, and a " Was it so very
naughty]" in an infantine, confiding tone, she
might have impressed him with the idea that she
was the sweetest, most artless girl in existence ;
that wandering about alone dark, stormy nights
was, in her, a praiseworthv act, and destroving peo-
ple's visual organs a fascinating accomplishment.
Results equally astounding have been attained by
young women less clever than Leigh Doane, with
men quite as sensible as Philip Ogden. But she
was twenty, and -well grown, and she did not know
how to assume ways which are, as was Richard III.,
" too childish-foolish for this world." Her clever-
ness did not lie in a knowledge of such tactics.
She had not studied them, nor did s-he, as do some
women, know them intuitively. There was, how-
ever, another, a medium course, and one that would
have been in accordance with her nature. She
could have been frank and sufficiently gracious.
She might have accepted his apologies and made
her own. Though disliking him, she could at least
have been civil. For reasons best known to her-
self, she was not. And these two, who might have
ONE SUMMER 73
in a bland conversation upon topics of
mutual interest, the weather, the scenery, why
Tom did not come, why Mr. Ogden had, how queer
Miss Phipps was, and what rare specimens of' hu-
manity were revealed in the Holbrook family, lost
their opportunity. One was left alone. The oth-
er, having abandoned the regular path, was going
through the woods with great strides, accelerated
by indignation, trampling over the underbrush,
and pushing away low branches with marked ener-
gy. His course, as he had anticipated, brought
him out at a point in the main road not far from
the Romney bridge, and presently its loose planks
were rattling beneath his tread. He crossed it, and
iu a long ramble on the east side of the river
walked off his vexation, and coolly decided that
Miss Doane and her vagaries were of small conse-
quence.
He had been prepared to blame himself wholly,
her not at all ; but her ungracious reception had
led him to think that the scales might be more
evenly balanced, that his week of inconvenience
and pain, his hearty desire to make reparation for
his blundering, might justly have some weight in
his favor. As a gentleman, he must always regret
having caused her so much discomfort and annoy-
ance ; but, since she had not even allowed him the
satisfaction of calling himself a brute, since she
had rendered expiation impossible, he washed his
hands of the whole matter. He had done his part.
Angels could do no more.
Edgecomb air was as healthful, Edgecomb wa-
ters afforded as fine facilities for rowing, as before
74 ONE SUMMER.
the advent of this Miss Doane, who was, by the
way, a charmingly agreeable person to take out in
his wherry. Should the boat upset, she would float
about in the water like any other . iceberg. His
feeling towards he* gradually merged into quiet
disapproval. What he knew of her he did not
admire, except, of course, her beauty. That, he
admitted, was of a rare order. It was not the
style he liked best. It had not the sweet, winning,
ever-varying expression that he preferred. But in
an artistic sense simply, Miss Doane's face was
the most beautiful he had ever seen. And whether
it was on account of its intrinsic beauty, or because
he had not before noticed a lovely girl in Edge-
comb, or because she was the first woman who had
rendered it quite evident to him that in her opinion
he was intolerably disagreeable, it haunted him.
It spite of what he assured himself was pure indif-
ference to her, like a familiar picture he could see,
well defined before him, the background of trees,
the dull skies, the soft brown of her dress, the
great basket laden with cool green things from
,the woods, the long vines trailing over its edge,
and, most distinct of all, the fair young face,
so fresh in its coloring, so inflexible in its frozen
repose.
What can she want of violets? It was win-
some Persephone who gathered flowers on the
meadow, not an ice-maiden like this. Even
Rappacini's daughter, nourished upon poison, and
withering flowers with her fatal breath, was less
chilling and unlovely in manner.
Meanwhile the forbidding, repellent, self-poised
ONE SUMMER. 75
creature sat in a dejected heap on the grass,
elbows on the rock, face on her hands, sad eyes
looking off absently across the water at Birch
Point. Already the iceberg, humanized, was
suffering the cruel pangs of remorse. She had
been inexcusably rude to Mr. Ogden, and she
liked neither him nor herself any the better for
that.
" dear, I wish they would come ! " she sighed.
76 ONE SUMMER.
CHAPTER VIII.
" So we met
In this old sleepy town, at unaware,
The man and I."
EDGECOMB, July 15, 18
DEAR TOM AND DEAREST BESSIE, Let us play
" Consequences." I '11 begin..
Miss Laura Leigh Doane and Mr. Philip Ogden
met in Edgecomb, on a street-corner, a dark,
stormy night, to the physical distress of one and
the mental agony of the other.
HE SAID,
" My good woman, your insignificant umbrella
has had the presumption to put out my majestic
eye. Shall I graciously allow you the supreme
honor of trudging through two miles of mud with
me?"
SHE SAID,
(meekly, but with rage, hate, rebellion, and various
other deadly sins warring in her heart,)
" Yes, sir."
THE WORLD SAID,
(or. would have said, had it known anything about
it, what it has ever said since Adam introduced
the custom of accusing "the woman,")
" She had onlv herself to blame."
ONE SUMMER. 77
THE CONSEQUENCES WERE :
Mr. Ogden retired from the world for a season,
and Miss Doane indulged in hatred, malice, and
all uncharitableness. She never, never wished to
meet him again. And when at last he loomed up
suddenly before her, she was unpardonably rude
and disagreeable ; yet not so utterly lost to every
semblance of good feeling that she could thus ill
treat a friend of Tom without repenting in sack-
cloth and ashes, and longing for her dear people
to come and brush away her cobwebs.
Bessie, dear, this is true, or nearly so, and it is
what you have thought only my nonsense when I
have just touched upon it or fluttered over it in
my letters. I ought to have told you before, but
it did seem too ridiculous to write. Indeed, I
will reserve the details of my escapade until I can
talk with you ; but I did go out in the rain. T
did run against him. I did hurt him. And he
thought I was a nobody, and coolly requested me
to tie a bandage over his eyes and take him home,
which I did, to my own profound amazement.
He thanked me, and feed me well. (And when
you come, Tom, you must give the odious creature
his ill-timed offering.) This was the evening of
the day you did not come. You cannot under-
stand it, nor can I ; but it all happened. I went
for a book, yon see, and everything worked against
me, even the powers of the air, and it was
all so very uncomfortable for me afterwards, I
could not help attributing it to Mr. Ogden; and
that was why I told you, Tom, not to send him to
see me.
78 ONE SUMMER.
I have reversed the usual order of things.
First I made war, then I declared it. I have been
detestable ; but, Tom, what you can find to admire
in that man is beyond my feeble comprehension.
He was confined to his room a week or more, so
my little Jimmie-boy reported. During that time
I became quite softened. I could not like his
Grand Mogul ways, but I was so sorry, so very,
very sorry that I had actually hurt him, and that
he was suffering some pain, no doubt, and much
loneliness, and all through my evil-doings. Then
caine your last letters insisting earnestly upon my
knowing him, telling me that he was such an " un-
commonly good fellow " (Tom, if he 's " uncom-
monly good," commonly good is more to my taste),
and assuring me that you would feel much relieved
about me if so fine, high-toned, honorable, efficient,
altogether charming and admirable individual would
deign to keep himself informed of my movements,
and would telegraph to you in case I should fall
from a rock and break my neck, or lean too hard
upon the railing of the dear dilapidated old bridge.
Perhaps I 'did not fully appreciate the practical
utility of this plan ; but since you really wished
me to know him, and especially since you an-
nounced that you had written to him desiring
him, formally, to call upon me, 1 grew decently
amiable. I reasoned with myself. I decided to
meet him frankly, to express my regret for the
accident, to treat the matter of my performing
escort-duty for him as of no consequence at all, in
short, to be very good during his visit, which I
naturally thought would take place here, at the
ONE SUMMER. 79
house ; and afterwards I would see him as little
as possible, I determined.
I was prepared to do all that could be expected
of me ; to sit like a model from a Book of Decorum,
with my reluctant vertebrae leaning against one
of Phipps's perpendicular chair-backs ; to converse
as well as I knew how upon any topic which might
prove agreeable to my guest. But I was not
I was not prepared for the sight that met my eyes
yesterday at the fort.
I had been in the woods for flowers, and return-
ing to my favorite resting-place saw a gentleman
Mr. Ogden, I knew instinctively intently regard-
ing my sketch-book. His back was turned, so that
I could not see his face, but I knew he was laugh-
ing, for his shoulders fairly shook. Indeed, I have
the impression that he must have shouted over
my designs, for I heard something of the kind
when I was in among the trees. [ will do him
the justice to say that the book was lying open
when he found it. And, Bessie, fancy at what !
(the influences, as the mediums say, must have
been sadly against me that morning,) at some
absurd sketches illustrative of our first meeting.
I did them the day after the accident, and he was
as ridiculous as I could make him. It was for
your amusement, not his. He had no right to
laugh ! Yesterday my work was only an innocent,
amiable little sketch of Birch Point, a fascinating
subject I am constantly attempting. Why did he
not see that instead ] t Why did the leaves open
to the malicious, naughty caricatures I had almost
forgotten 1 Why did I not close the book ] I
OXE SUMMER.
usually do. Because the man is my evil genius.
Before he appears I do some unfortunate, unnatu-
ral thing. When I am with him I am completely
transformed. I do not recognize myself. Scold
me, Tom, as much as you like. I deserve it, but
if you love me, come down and keep him awav.
Where was 1 1 0, just coming from the
woods." Bessie, I am sorry, too sorry for what 1
did. I do not seek to excuse the inexcusable.
If patient Griselda's liege lord tyrannical old
Turk that he was ! had chosen to swing her
about by the hair of her head as a light exercise
and pastime, I presume, from aH accounts, the
poor thing, for whom I never had the faintest
spark o^ admiration, would have meekly borne it,
and sweetly encouraged him in it, so long as there
was a hair left for him to grasp ; but I am not sure
that even she would have seen a perfect stranger
examining at his leisure her own private property,
without making a mild protest, and to me the
sight was intolerably provoking.
There he sat on my rock, surrounded, like a
Choctaw chieftain, with trophies of victory. My
Idyls at his right. My umbrella leaning against
the rock at his left. My sketch-book open in his
hands. It was too much. The tide of memory
rushed over me. I was again seized by the in-
tense unreasoning dislike I had felt for him. Was
I always to appear at a disadvantage before him ]
I am ashamed to tell you how disagreeably I
advanced and demanded my book. I wickedly
hoped he would be confused. He never dreamed
of such a thing. He is always so unpleasantly
OXE SUMMER. 81
" superior." He rose to meet me with a cordial
expression, as if I were an old and valued friend.
I determined to ruffle that beautiful composure.
I did not know I could be so detestable ; but a
latent talent of that description, I suppose, like
courage, "mounteth with occasion." By my man-
ner, 1 said as plainly as by words, " Do not apol-
ogize. Do not introduce yourself. Do not speak.
You are odious. I am going."
I pretended not to look at him, but I saw per-
fectly well his expression changing from smiling
ease to gravity, severity, as it dawned upon him
that my inimical bearing was with malice pre-
pense. He gave me one long, steady look as if to
discover to what species of created beings I be-
longed, then with a word left me. Your Mr. Og-
den has quick perceptions, Tom. Any man of
sense would have understood me ; but I think some
men would have insisted upon speaking.
And, after all, he had the best of it. He was
still " superior." He went through the woods, it is
true, with great rapidity, suggestive, it may be, of
inward wrath, but he made his exit from this dra-
matic scene with calmness, grace, and dignity. He
did not forget that an impressive deportment is
always the best policy. His final remark was a
rebuke in its cool civility, for you see I was cool in-
civility personified. He meant to conduct himself
as irreproachably as a Bayard, whatever caprice
my waywardness might develop, and I was capri-
cious and unreasonable as a child with a grown-up
capacity for being disagreeable. He was right, I
was wrong. My head tells me this, while my
82 ONE SUMMER.
heart rises up in wrath against him. How sorry
you will both be ! Would you believe it 1 I tried
not to care when I saw that great purplish mark in
his cheek. I could not help feeling distressed,
though I endeavored to look as stony as a sphinx.
If it were not for him, Edgecomb would be
Paradis'e. But I suppose an earthly one must
always have a serpent, and every little Miss Muffit,
a great black spider to come in the way. He is
the spider that drives me from my curds and
whey. Won't somebody have the kindness to
step on him ]
These long, quiet days here are too beautiful.
I find some lovely spot and read a little, draw a
little, dream a little, and think that you will be
here soon to intensify my happiness ; and the
trees and hills and waters are so noble, " the
birds and the flowers are so kind," that it all
seems like an enchanted life, until suddenly I re-
member my misdeeds, and the beautiful illusion
is destroyed. I cannot be happy here any more.
Jimmie is my only human comfort. He is, I tell
him, a rough diamond, and hereafter I shall spell
his name with a G. He is not, perhaps, " of purest
ray serene," still he is precious and sparkling,
though unpolished, and he shall be Gem, not Jim.
Dear child ! He seems to have the most incom-
prehensible fancy for me. He left a handful of
columbines with Miss Phipps for me, long before
I was awake one morning ; and he went ever so
many miles for a pretty species of fern which he
had heard me say I was sorry I could not find
in this vicinity. He is very bright, merry, and
ONE SUMMER. 83
amusing, and has a loving heart and an apprecia-
tive nature ; though he seemed to me in the first
place nothing more than a comical, impudent little
ragamuffin. Now I perceive respect for me and
aft'ection shining out through the outward rough-
ness, the marvellous language and want of
training.
When do you think you will come 1 If you do
not intend to start in a day or two, may n't 1,
please may I not, go home 'I I could act as escort
for you, Bessie, and bring you down quite as well as
Torn can, if he would only think so ; and it would
be so much better than staying here, and dreading
to stir for fear of meeting Mr. Ogden, and doing
or saying some fatal thing which it never entered
my head to do or say before.
" Up the airy mountain,
Down the rushy glen,
We dare na go a-huntin',
For fear of " P. Ogden.
I wish he would go away ! I am penitent, very
penitent, but I never wish to see him a^ain
Literally,
" Every prospect pleases, and only man is vile."
Come to me, or let me go to you, is the prayer
of
Your loving
LEIGH.
84 ONE SUMMER.
CHAPTER IX.
"Still harping."
Hamlet.
SS LEIGH, we got this in a field to
Birch Point. Yer don't want it, do
yer 1 Yer would n't like it, would yer ?
Yer could n't stick it- in yer hat, could
yer ? Say ! "
Miss Doane took the long black feather from
the boy's hand, and smiled at his eagerness.
" It is very pretty, Gem. What is it 1 "
" A eagle's."
"An eagle's, really 1 ? 'As a feather is wafted
downward from an eagle in his flight,' " she re-
peated dreamily, standing in the open doorway
and glancing far up above the elm-topsj as if she
could see the slender thing descending through
the air. Then, to the boy : " Certainly, I would
like it, Gem, and thank you very much. I never
saw one before. How very glossy it is, and even,
as if its edge were cut with a knife ! "
" I s'pose yer don't want to put it in yer hat,
do yerl" said Gem, with pleased, smiling eyes,
while his mouth twitched violently in his effort to
look indifferent.
" Who was it who wore an eagle's plume 1 Rob
Roy ] Far better it would suit a brave Highland
chieftain than a commonplace young woman like
ONE SUMMER. 85
me. But since the noble bird will not suspect to
what base use we have put it, I '11 see what can
be done to please you, my dear."
She ran up stairs and returned in a moment
with a small black hat and her work-basket, and,
seated in the doorway, with Jimmie on a lower
step, she tried the effect of his last offering at her
shrine.
" Gem, it 's too long. I shall look as tall as
Mrs. Giantess Blunderbore."
" Let 's cut it."
" It would be a pity to do that, unless I could
use both parts. I do not like to throw away what
a friend brings me.' It is neither pleasant nor
polite, is it, Gem 1 Ah, I know ! The tip I will
put in my hat, quietly, you see, with an unob-
trusive, deprecating expression, so any mighty
eagle soaring about will not spy it and feel in-
sulted, and pounce down and peck my eyes out ;
and the other I will make into a most beautiful
quill pen. However it may write, the association
of ideas will be very high-toned indeed. A great,
glorious eagle, how much more inspiring his
quill ought to be than that of a common goose !
There, Gem, how is that 1 " And she put on the
hat, with the little black tip standing up jauntily
behind some bows. "Is it about right 1 } Then
I '11 fasten it." And off came the hat.
" I told him yer 'd like it. I said yer'd put it
in yer hat, and now yer have, have n't yer 1 " said
Jimmie, ecstatically.
Miss Doane bent her face over her work.
" Told whom, Gem 1 "
85 ONE SUMMER.
" Mr. Ogden. He picked it up an' was a-goin' to
drop it over the bank, an' I said I wanted it for
you."
Miss Doaue colored furiously. It would be too
childish not to wear it now ; but how she did want
to pull it out ! After all, she reflected, it had
really nothing to do with Mr. Ogden. She would
wear it, and only remember little Gem's kindness.
" He 's tip-top, Miss Leigh. You an' him are
the best fellers I ever see."
" Gem," said the girl, gravely, "I 'm not a feller,
and you should say saw instead of see." .
Unabashed, Gem continued,
" Mr. Ogden, he got off" a mighty queer yarn
yesterday when I told him I knowed yer 'd like the
feather cos yer allers liked the things I had brung.
He thought as how yer would n't want it, yer
know, and says he -
" Knew, not knowed, and brought, not brung,"
said Miss Doane, oracularly.
The importance of improving Jim's English was
at certain moments singularly urgent. The tide
of her criticism, however, seemed to ebb and flow
in a spasmodic, eccentric manner.
Sometimes he would chatter by the hour with
never a word of correction from her.
" Yes 'm," said Gem, dutifully. " Says he, ' Did
yer ever read about ' 'bout a wait an' I '11 tell
yer it was real funny says he "
" Gem, how would you like to ramble off some-
where with me 1 This is too fine a morning to
waste in the house, or even out here on the steps.
We '11 have a lovely outing, you and I : and if Miss
ONE SUMMER. 87
Phipps will give us some lunch, we '11 go off for the
day. Would you like it ] "
" Would n't I though 1 "
" Very well ; wait till I get my shawl and pack
a basket. A small and select picnic like this will
be charming. You shall go where you like. My
fate is in your hands. I want to see an entirely,
new spot."
" All right," said Gem, cheerily. "I guess I
know what will hit your case. Him an' me was
down there, an' he thought as how it was a pooty
likely sort of a place. Says he "
" Excuse me, Gem, but I must go and beg Miss
Phipps for some things for our basket." And Leigh
sprang up quickly and vanished through an inner
door.
Gem sat down on the steps, scowled, and thought
vigorously. Presently he shouted, " I say ! Miss
Leigh ! " She appeared at the dining-room door.
As well hope to stem a torrent with a straw as
to interpose such trifles as grammatical errors and
lunch-baskets in the way of Gem's inevitable re-
cital.
" Well, dear," she said patiently. Perhaps after
the child had freed his mind he would be willing
to turn his attention in some other direction.
"Kim-eleon was the word. Kimeleon. Says he,
'Didyer ever read about a kimeleon T Says I, 'No.'
Says he, ' It 's a curious animal, an' you may look
in my dictionary for it when we go home, an' then
you '11 know another fack in nateral history, my
boy.' Says I, ' Is it like a eagle 1 ' Says he, ' Not
in the least. It is a animal that changes its color
88 ONE SUMMER.
more or less with the color of objects about it, an'
with its temper when disturbed.' He said it to me
twice, an' I saw it in his big dictionary afterwards,
an' I learned the spellin' an' the meanin'. There
was a plaguy long word "
" Gem," said Leigh, reprovingly.
" Well, awful long, then. It was pre-hen-sile.
Its tail is prehensile. That means it can hang on
to things like blazes. Mr. Ogden said that fack
did n't interest him pertickerly. What he liked
to meditate upon was, that its color varied as its
temper was disturbed. I was a-studyin' of it out
loud up in his room, yer know, an' he was a smok-
in', an' he larfed an' larfed. He said some folks
was like the kimeleon."
Miss Doane bit her lip, stood very straight, and
waited for the boy to communicate his newly ac-
quired knowledge.
" Yes, dear ; that is very interesting. Perhaps
I may be able some time to give } r ou equally valu-
able information. At present our basket is the
more important topic. If you and I are hungry, we
won't feel like improving our minds, will we, Gem ?
You may come in, if you like, and help me. Here
I am like Charlotte, cutting bread and butter."
" Charlotte who ] "
" Charlotte I 'm sure I do not know what her
other name was, and it does not matter, my dear ; for
her story would make you neither so merry as that
of Mi-s. Giantess Blunderhore, nor so wise as the
dictionary definition of a chameleon, so I shall not
tell it to you, Jimmie-boy."
" Do yer want that hrnnk o' meat, an' them cook-
ies an' things in ] "
ONE SUMMER. 89
" Child ! Child ! Not without a napkin. Things
one eats should look pretty. There, this is the
way. First the napkin, then the meat, sliced thin,
so, between two plates. Why, Gem, could you
really eat it, dumped in your way 1 "
" Course, I could. What 's the use o' yer nap-
kins 1 Yer can't eat 'em."
" Gem, you are an untutored little savage. Why,
do you know I am sometimes very much ashamed
to eat at all, right in the face and eyes of a beau-
tiful landscape ? It seerns so presuming, such a
desecration. But there 's something in the air
here that gives one an unconscionable appetite.
Miss Phipps, you are exceedingly kind. The
cream will be very acceptable. Gem, run out and
get me a little bunch of sweet-peas. We cannot
eat them, but the bit of bright shall serve to
beautifv our feast, and to elevate your ideas, you
benighted boy. I may have them, may I not,
Miss Phipps 1 Nothing more, thank you."
They started off merrily. Miss Phipps gave a
shrill parting charge from the door :
"You be keerful about bringiu' back them
things, will yer?"
" 0, certainly ! " replied Leigh, smilingly. " We
will take excellent care of everything. And," turn-
ing to Jim, "you are going to take care of me, are
you not 1 Do you know, Gem, you should offer to
take my shawl and the books and the umbrella, as
well as the basket. I should not think of allowing
you to carry them all, of course, but the offer ought
in propriety to be made. The shawl, you see, hangs
easily over my shoulder, the umbrella I wish to
90 ONE SUMMER.
use ; you and I together can swing the basket as
Jack and Jill did the pail when they went up the
hill; and the strap, if you please, you may take in
your other hand. Still, Gem, you must offer to
carry everything."
" What for 1 " said the matter-of-fact Jimmie.
" Jest as lief lug 'em all as not, but I ain't got but
two hands, an' ef yer 've fixed things 'bout as yer
want 'em, what 's the use of talkin' 1 "
" Gem, Gem, you have yet to learn the use of
the beautiful. Courtesy, my child, demands that
you offer and that I decline. Exactly why, I am
not sure that I know myself. It is a little polite
social fiction, you see. However, I will excuse you
till next time."
The boy listened with a bright, admiring look.
Her words were new and strange to him. Her
meaning he rarely failed to grasp.
" Miss Leigh, you an' him talk jest percisely
alike."
" Gem," said she, abruptly, " I think I never
saw more beautiful clouds. They look like great
snowy meuntains, do they not 1 Alpine summits."
"I know all about 'em," was the complacent re-
sponse to this burst of enthusiasm. " He told me.
Them 's the cumulus. Heaps an' heaps on 'em ain't
they, and jolly white 1 "
Leigh sighed despairingly. Could she never be
free from this incubus 1 Did it extend even to the
clouds '
" Why, Gem, it is towards Birch Point we are
going, is it not ] "
" It is to Birch Point, if yer don't mind the
ONE SUMMER. 91
walk. We 're goin the short cut. 'T ain't more 'n
three or four miles this way. Him an' me went
t' other way, an' he
" You dear little Gem, I would be delighted to
go ! I have tried to sketch Birch Point from the
fort. Now I can see how the fort looks from the
Point."
" There 's a cave there. Him an' me went down
in. He is awful knowin'. He 's learned me a pile
of things. Says he
" Taught rne," instantly corrected the oracle.
" I rather guess you an' him together will make a
stunnin' scholar of me," said Jirn, with a chuckle.
" 'You an' him together!' Worse and worse,"
thought she. Severe criticism had failed to divert
Jimmie's ideas. Would a downright compliment be
of any use, she wondered.
" It is a pleasure to teach you anything, you are
so bright and remember so well," she graciously
remarked.
" Well, he says I 'm bright. I 'm a awful block-
head at school, though. Funny, ain't it 1 "
" I think you are very bright," said Leigh, reso-
lutely, ignoring the ever-present "he." "You
ought to make a very clever man. There may be
a few things I can teach you now, but if you work
in the right way, you will know ever so much
more than I do when you are twenty."
"Twenty? Are you twenty] He's thirty." Leigh
groaned in spirit. " I asked him, an' he told me, but
he larfed and said I must n't ask folks how old
they was, pertickerly ladies, so I did n't ask you
but I wanted to know awfully, cos yer kinder
92 ONE SUMMER.
young and kinder old, yer know. Sometimes yer
don't seem no older 'n me, an' sometimes yer act
as old as the parson. I asked him how old he
s'posed you was, an' he said he s'posed nothing
whatever. ' Far be it from me,' says, he, ' to per-
sume to have any opinion on that subjeck.' An'
he kinder larfed. Odd talkin' chap, ain't he ] "
Leigh, in utter hopelessness, remained silent.
It was evidently useless to attempt to turn the
conversation into any channel which would not
immediately lead to her bugbear and Gem's hero.
On they walked, swinging the basket between
them. Suddenly, Gem said,
"He said 'clever.' I told yer, him an' you
talked alike. He said, with the right trainin'
I 'd make a clever feller."
" Gem, Gem, if you only would not, quite all
the time ! " thought Leigh.
" An' I thought clever meant kinder good-na-
tured, but he told me it was jest the same as
knowin'."
A smile was her only response.
" Yer see, I 'm considerable 'stonished, cos I
kinder got settled into thinkin' I was a noodle,"
confided Jimmie, with his head on one side, and
casting a curious little canary-bird look up into her
face. " Jones, he stuck to it three winters," con-
tinued Gem, laughing, "an' I begun to think p'r'aps
he was right about it, if he was most gen'rally a
darn fool."
" Jimmie, really this is dreadful. You prom-
ised not to use such words," said Miss Doane, with
dignity.
ONE SUMMER. 93
" Well, I won't, then," said Jim, half in penitence,
half in mischief. " I 'm awful sorry." Then, the
mischief predominating, " I won't say 'em about
any other -feller if yer '11 let me 'bout Jones, an' I
don't care pertickerly for darn if yer like pesky
any better, or thunderin', or any sech."
Jim's naivete, as usual, proved irresistible. The
dignity vanished, and Leigh, laughing, inquired,
" Who is this poor Mr. Jones who is doomed to
be called such naughty names ] "
" He 's the schoolmarster," replied Gem, w r ith
sublime contempt. " He don't know so much as
once. The biggest noony yer ever did see," said
he, with tremendous energy. " He cum down
from Ayerville College with his hair parted in the
middle. He talkth thith way, an' thays 'my
de-ah ' to the girls. Kisses 'em too, by thunder,
when he thinks folks ain't round, an' lots of the
big fellers licked him last winter, an' I rather guess
he ain't a-comin' this way again. Not much, old
doughface ! " he added with a sneer.
Leigh's spirits rose. Here, at last, was an all-
engrossing topic upon which Gem should dilate
at his pleasure. Contempt for the schoolmaster
should be encouraged.
"So Mr. Jones thought that you were not
bright. He was mistaken, Gem, utterly mis-
taken."
" Well, yer see I was kinder young an' small when
he begun," said Gem, drawing himself up and look-
ing as tall as possible. " It was considerable time
ago, three years last winter. Bein' only a little
shaver, I was mortal 'fraid if he learned me any-
94 ONE SUMMER.
thing he kuowed, I 'd grow up into jest such another
noodle. So I kinder got into the habit of losin' my
books, an' never knowin' nothin' at all, an' runnin'
away every chance I got, an' I kep' it -up pretty
stidcly all the time the old donkey stayed."
Leigh was aware that she ought to remonstrate,
but she felt a surprising sympathy with Jim, shar-
ing his dislike for the absent Jones, and she laugh-
ingly said,
" What a comfort you must have been to the
poor man ! "
"Ruther guess I was. Heaps o 1 comfort. He
forgot to tell me so, though," said Gem, with a
queer expression, as if recalling days gone by and
scenes with the "marster." "I can't help it," he
exclaimed vehemently ; " when I don't like folks I
won't learn a blessed thing, an' that 's the end on
it ; but," he added with immense enthusiasm, " if
you an' Mr. Ogden, you an' him, both of you to-
gether
Leigh had been breathing freely for a few mo-
ments. Here she actually shuddered.
" If two reggler bricks like you an' he want me
to peg away at books an' things, 1 11 do it sure 's
yer born."
Miss Doane threw her shawl upon the grass an'
sat down.
"Tired?"
" Not physically tired, Gem, but mentally
stunned. As the French say, ' I can no more.' "
And she contemplated Gem with mingled amuse-
ment, admiration, and dismay. " Gem, you fun-
ny child ! " she exclaimed, and, looking directly
OXE SUMMER. 95
into his merry eyes, began to laugh heartily. Her
mood was contagious. She sat upon a little
mound, and Gem rolled on the grass and shouted
and shrieked, and the two good comrades laughed
in utter abandonment and foolish unison. There
was small sense in it, perhaps, but they enjoyed it,
and no " rigid wise " person was there to see or
hear or condemn them.
96 ONE SUMMER.
CHAPTER X.
" O brave new world.
That has such people in it ! "
The Tempest.
POINT will not come to us, Gem."
" 'T ain't likely."
" Theu if we mean to arrive at that
haven of rest before high noon, we must
bestir ourselves. Hop up, child, and assume your
half of the burden. Would any one believe it
could seem so heavy 1 Lift it, Gem. This fable
teaches us that we must not loiter by the wayside
and laugh till we are weak, the next time we go on
a pilgrimage with a heavily laden basket."
She lifted the cover. "See, Gem. It is actuallv
full to the brim. What could have possessed me ]
We might lighten, our load a little. Gem, you
cannot eat all of those doughnuts, unless you have
the appetite of an anaconda, can vou, now 1 "
" Do yer ask honest Injun, no cheatin' nor
nothin' 1 "
" Certainly. Perfectly ' honest Injun.' "
" Well, then, I guess if I was you, I would n't
throw nothin' out, except them napkins and p'r'aps
the plates if yer want ter very bad. Cos I kalker-
late them doughnuts is pretty fair eatin'. I never
seed that ere thing yer said, an' I don't know noth-
in' about its appetite, but I reckon I can eat dough-
nuts faster 'n ole Phipps can fry 'em, anyhow."
ONE SUMMER. 97
" I withdraw my objection out of respect to your
powers. Not a crumb shall be wasted."
" Miss Leigh, I can carry this ere basket just as
easy as stealin'. 'T ain't heavier 'n nothin'. You
jest let go on it. Come."
" No, sir. You will carry your half and I mine.
But it was right to say that, dear, because you
thought I was tired and warm. You were kind
and thoughtful, Gem. Always to be so is what
makes a man a gentleman."
" I s'pose he 's lugged heaps o' baskets an' things
for girls. He 's awful kind, anyhow. Jest your
sort. Real keerful-like, you know."
Leigh's attention was engrossed by a refractory
glove-button.
" He gave me a reggler talkin' to cos I put a
snail onto the back of Jane M'ria's neck when she
was a-comin' across the barnyard with two big pails
o' milk. 0, my ! Yer ought ter have seen her !
Warn't she fun, though 1 She hopped, an' she
yelled, an' she dropped the milk, an' one of the
pails tipped clean over, an' marm she rowed it
awful strong, an' I hid in the hen-house, an' marm
got over her feelin's, an' then 1 come out. But
yer 'd ought to a heerd him. Did n't he give me
fits, and all so quiet like, too ! Don't yer never
tell, hope ter die, an' I '11 yer somethin'."
" I will not tell, Gem."
" He made me cry like blazes," said Jim in a
shamefaced way. " Marm, she pulls my ears when
she 's mad, an' kin ketch me, an' she allers rows
it considerable, yer know, an' I get used to it. An'
dad, he don't keer much about nothin', an' lets me
5 G
98 ONE SUMMER.
alone pretty much ; an' when the marster got red
in the face and called names, I thought it was jolly
good fun ; but yer see he warn't like 'em. No fel-
ler could n't stau' it " apologetically. " He made
me cry. He jest did. Dead earnest and no mis-
take."
Perverse Leigh was interested, but not a word
would she say.
" He sot me down by the table in his room,"
continued the boy, in an awe-struck voice. " Yer
see I did n't keer about Jane M'ria, an' marm she
did n't mind nothin' except the milk bein' spilled,
an' I done worser things than that to make Jane
M'ria jump, lots o' times. But he did n't seem to
be a-thinkin' about the milk at all."
Jimmie looked thoughtful as he went on.
"He talked kinder quiet like, yer see. He was
a sittin' by the table too, an' sometimes he looked
across at me ; but he was mostly a-markin' with a
pencil, an' he warn't very long about it, neither ;
but no feller could n't stan' it, Miss Leigh."
" No, dear," said Leigh, softly.
" He said it was onmanly to put a snail on to
Jane M'ria. He said as how a boy could have his
jokes. Jokin' was good for boys. But this was
pooty mean jokin'. That was when he was a-begin-
nin', yer see, an' I did n't know how he was a-goin'
on, an' that I could n't stan' it anyhow, an' says I,
' Well, Jane M'ria need n't go a-walkin' along with
her mouth open, an' a-lookin' as if her senses had
gone off a-visitiu'. If she warn't so queer I would n't
'a' wanted to put a snail on her.'
"An' he tol' me when I fit, ter fight a boy my
ONE SUMMER. 99
own size, or bigger 'n me, if I wanted ter. Says I,
' Puttin' snails on ter Jane M'ria ain't fightin' any-
body.' ' Yer right,' says he. ' It ain't fightin'; it 's
persecution, Jimmie.' He said he persumed I
would n't keer if snails crawled all over me. Says
he, ' Yer have n't got no nerves, Jim ; but yer
sister is timid an' nervous, so anything of this
kind is onfair, onmanly, mean, and cruel.' Them 's
the words he said. Hittin' a feller when he was
down, an' puttiu' snails on to delicate, nervous
girls, was all about the same. An' then he said I
was pretty manly, an' men did n't do sech things,
ah' he rather thought I warn't a-goin' to no more.
" An' I kinder choked up, an' that was all I said.
An' says he, ' Shake hands on that, Jim.' He was
kinder smilin', yer see. An' sumthin or ruther
made ine boohoo right out. An' he said he was
goin' to look up his fishin'-rod, an' when he come
back he asked me to go a-troutin', an' he did n't
say nothin' more, yer know. We never come home
till nigh sundown. Got nine ; beauties they was,
too. Queer what made me bawl, warn't it ] He 's
the only feller that could 'a' made me. Could n't
stan' it, nohow. Nobody could n't."
The child related his experience in a dramatic
way that commanded Leigh's close attention. He
spoke at times in unconscious imitation of Mr.
Ogden's manner. Involuntarily a suspicion of
amusement would creep into his tone whenever he
alluded directly to that snail and the luckless Jane
M'ria. He also tnanifested his usual faith in Mr.
Ogden's infallibility, and his own tears he evidently
regarded as a natural phenomenon.
100 ONE SUMMER.
"Mr. Ogden was perfectly right, Gem." Leigh
felt that this approval of the enemy evinced a
greatness of soul to which poor erring human na-
ture rarely attains. " But you '11 never do so any
more," she said lightly. " Do you know you have
been entertaining me so well the basket has grown
light again ? And here we are at the Point, are
we not, you magnificent Gem 1 Take me to the
cove. If I have a special desire for anything in
the world, at this moment, it is for a good comfort-
able rock with a back to it, and cool water rippling
at my feet."
Past the thickly wooded hill, through fields
where were occasional clumps of poplars and pretty
young birch-trees, over a rustic bridge which
crossed a little winding creek, Jimmie led Miss
Doane, who expressed enthusiastic delight at every-
thing.
" Was there ever such soft velvety grass and such
wavy land 1 The woods look lovely off there, but
nothing can destroy my allegiance to the cove.
The cove, niy Gem, is at present my heart's de-
sire." And soon she gained it. Nothing was
wanting. The rock with a back to it, or the water
rippling at her feet.
Leigh raised her umbrella. Gem threw him-
self on the ground and leaned against the rock.
Both were silent. The low ripple of the water
as the incoming tide crept nearer, the chirp of
grasshoppers, and the distant note of a wood-bird,
were the only sounds.
Gem, as usual, was revolving something in his
mind.
ONE SUMMER. 101
" Miss Leigh, what was it } - er said about them
doughnuts'?"
"Doughnuts, Gem?" with a slightly wandering
air. " I 'm sure I do not know. When 1 "
" Yer said I could n't eat 'em all up unless I
had a appetite like a sumthin or ruther. I never
seed one. I thought I would ask yer."
" Did I say anaconda 1 "
" That 's the chap. What is a anaconda "? "
Leigh's features suddenly and singularly changed
their expression. The air of delicious languor,
the dreamy, far-off look, vanished. Thoroughly
roused, with a gleam of satisfaction on her face
and a wicked sparkle in her eye, she replied :
" First class in natural history, stand up. You
display a thirst for knowledge concerning the
anaconda. It will afford me pleasure to impart
to you my small stock of information upon this
important topic. The anaconda, my dear young
friend, is a snake. Its distinguishing character-
istic is its capacity for swallowing anything and
everything it sees. It can swallow objects morally
and physically greater than itself, even as large
as a young lady and her umbrella. Umbrellas
do not agree with the anaconda, Gem. The ana-
conda belongs to the Boa family, which is spelled
B-o-a, but strongly suggests B-o-r-e. Some persons,
James," she added seutentiously, " resemble the
anaconda."
Gem eyed her curiously.
" Jokin', ain't yer 1" ,.,/,-
" No, dear, not exactly ; but if I have given you
false ideas, you can correct them when you study
102 ONE SUMMER.
about snakes one of these days. I 'm not wise
enough to repeat a definition from an unabridged
dictionary, but I don't like anacondas, Gem.
They take more than their share of things. Some
persons are exceedingly like the anaconda. Alto-
gether a very disagreeable species. Ugh ! "
Having thus viciously given a Roland for Mr.
Ogdeu's Oliver, she felt appeased, and turned in
a jubilant way to the lunch-basket. Lunch was
soon served and soon over. Gem swallowed Miss
Phipps's dainties and Miss Doane's aphorisms ap-
parently with equal relish, and the beauties of
nature did not materially affect the young lady's
appetite, whatever may have been her inward mis-
givings with regard to the propriety of having one.
" What a lovely, long, lazy afternoon we are
going to have, Gem ! " And she settled herself
comfortably again, after having repacked the
basket, and looked smilingly at the boy. " If our
consciences are clear, we ought to be perfectly
happy."
" 1 ain't done nothin'," remarked Jim, with an
air of conscious rectitude.
" You are fortunate," said Leigh, amused, and
wondering a little about the snail and the pre-snail
period.
" I s'pose you ain't never done iiothin' yer
had n't ought ter."
The green banks of an island up the river rose
solemnly and accusingly out of the water, and
stared at guilty Leigh.
" 1 1 0, frequently, Gem ! Constantly, I might
say."
ONE SUMMER. 103
Gem looked incredulous. He would believe
anything she could tell him about long words,
strange animals, and the habits of polite society,
but this was too much. His goddess had no
human attributes. She had never put snails on
people, nor robbed orchards, nor tied saucepans
to cats' tails.
Leigh knew that he was puzzled.
" My dear, I mean that 1 do things that are
just as naughty in me as putting snails on Jane
Maria was in you. My snails are of a different
kind, but they are very snaily sometimes. It is
a perverse world, Jimmie-boy, and when you and
I feel like throwing snails at people we 'd better
shut our teeth together hard and run away. If
we stay where the snails and the people are, we
shall surely do what we '11 be sorry for. All of
which is a very poor sermon. I do not preach
well, dear. My strongest talent, I have just dis-
covered, lies in lecturing upon natural history."
Chatting lazily, Leigh passed the long summer
afternoon. It seemed singular that she had be-
come so attached to this curious child that she did
not weary of his presence and incessant question-
ing. She knew that a long, perfectly quiet day-
like this would be intolerable with an uncongenial
companion. What torture to sit upon a river-
bank for hours with a " watery smile and educated
whisker," the typical society-man in a certain set
at home, she thought. There are some things
one must enjoy alone or with a perfectly sym-
pathetic nature. People who are n't responsive
are so tiresome. And this funny little friend.
104 ONE SUMMER.
Was he responsive 1 Sympathetic ] Unquestion-
ably. She looked at him earnestly, trying to
fancy what manner of man he might become.
He was whistling in a pleasantly subdued way,
and employing his superfluous energies in fashion-
ing a boat, with his knife, from a piece of wood
he had picked up. Gazing at the clouds and the
river running by, and building air-castles might
do for Miss Doane. Sturdy Gem preferred whit-
tling.
Leigh noticed the well-shaped head bent over
his work, the breadth of the slightly projecting
brow, the strange keenness of the deeply set gray
eyes, the flexible, refined lips. He kept them
closed, too. She believed he was the only boy in
Edgecomb who did not habitually go about with
his mouth open. The thick mass of his bright
brown hair was cut in a jagged and incomprehen-
sible way, possibly by the maternal Holbrook's
sheep-shears. His face was sunburnt and freck-
led and scratched ; his hands torn by brambles
and rough fences. Yet, in spite of everything, he
was a " bonnie, bonnie bairn."
Gem glanced up and met her intense gaze.
"What is it, Miss Leigh 1 ?"
" What is what 1 "
Gem laughed.
" I don't know exakly. Yer looks said sum-
thin'."
" Did they, dear ] I was wondering what I
should have done down here without my Gem."
' Gem's brown cheeks grew rosy with pleasure.
" If folks was like you an' he, an' if folks warn't
ONE SUMMER. ]Q5
continooally a-callin' other folks names an' a-pullin'
of other folks's ears, there 'd be more fun in it," he
muttered.
Possessing the key to Gem's enigmatical re-
marks, Leigh interpreted this speech as a graceful
acknowledgment of her kindness and a discreet
allusion to home-difficulties.
" Gem, would n't you like me to tell - you a
story 1 " she said kindly. " What kind of a one do
you prefer 1 "
" Most anythiu', I guess, only I ain't fond of
Sunday-school books. Them pious boys allers
gits hurt or surnthin'. I ain't fond on 'em, Miss
Leigh. S'pose yer tell a bear-fightin' yarn.
Make the bear awful big, an' monstrous ugly,
an' hungrier 'n nothin', cos he ain't had a scrap
of a thing ter eat fur eight days."
" What a dreadful vision, Gem ! I can almost
hear him growl. My education has been neg-
lected, I am afraid, for bear -hunting is Sanscrit to
me. You may tell me a bear-story some time.
To-day I will tell you something very old and
sweet, that I used to read when I was your age,
and that I like just as well now."
" Fire away. Guess I shall like it, if 't ain't
about them pious chaps what gits crushed under
wheels an' says hymns an' dies happy. I ain't
fond on 'em, yer know."
" Don't be alarmed, Gem," said Leigh, laughing.
" It is nothing of that description, I assure you.
I am afraid I know even less of such boys than of
bears."
Then she began :
5*
106 OXE SUMMER.
" Once upon a time, long, long ago, there was a
great, strong, beautiful, wise, good king, and he
lived far away over the sea. It was ages ago, and
far, far away, but his country was a little like
this, perhaps."
Amused at herself, yet eager to discover the re-
semblance, Leigh rose, and, shading her eyes with
her hand, threw a long, searching look upon the
surrounding landscape. North and south, east
and west, she gazed, then with a satisfied air, as
her glance fell on the gleaming river, " It might
be flowing down to Camelot," she said. "Only a
wee bit of magic, Gem, and we 'd have four gray
walls and four gray towers over on the island, and
sleepy white lilies all around it, and the heavy
barges moving slowly up and down the river, and
gay little boats dancing by ; and over there would
be the winding road where the red-cloaked market-
girls would pass, and where stately knights in
shining ai'mor would ride, and sometimes a lazy
old abbot, and sometimes a dainty, graceful page.
And there," pointing down the river, " would rise
the towers of beautiful Camelot, the royal city.
Yes, I know it was like this ! " she exclaimed.
Gem calmly whittled. No person could have
been more ignorant nor more indifferent than he
concerning the scenery in the suburbs of Camelot,
and Miss Doane might air her little poetical com-
parisons undisturbed by doubt or sneer.
"When this great, beautiful, wise, good king "
" Strong," instantly corrected Gem. " You said
' strong ' before, and this time you said all the rest
of 'em an' left ' strong ' out."
ONE SUMMER. 107
" My dear, if I were an accomplished story-
teller I should know how to vary my adjectives.
However, he was strong."
" How strong-* 1 ? "
This simple inquiry, in a business-like tone, was
a wet-blanket on Leigh's enthusiasm. She did not
know how strong a modern Samson ought to be
in order to find favor with Gem. It was impos-
sible for her to form any estimate of the number
of pounds avoirdupois that her shadowy hero of
the past ' had been .able to lift. Puzzled, she
said,
" Why, really, Gem, I do not know. He was as
strong and as brave as it was possible to be."
" Bet Mr. Ogden could 'a' licked him, and done
it easy, 'thout harf try in'. Bet yer ten cents.
Come, now ! "
"Indeed he could not," said Leigh, with indig-
nant emphasis. " Now, Gem, you must not inter-
rupt, please, for I have ever so much to tell, and
it 's growing late. When this glorious king his
name was Arthur came to his throne, there were
cruel wild men whom he had to conquer, and
cruel wild beasts that he must kill." Gem
stopped whittling and looked up. Thus encour-
aged, Leigh went on boldly. " There were bears,
Gem, and dragons, and snakes, and lions, and
tigers
" My eye ! " exclaimed Gem, in ecstasy.
" And every kind of a horrible, growling, howl-
ing, gnashing thing you can imagine. And there
were maidens to be taken out of deep dark dun-
geons where wicked tyrants had thrown them, and
108 OXE SUMMER.
castles and lands to be restored to their rightful
owners, and altogether much need of the good
king, and much work for him to do. And he
gathered the young men of his kingdom about
him, and made some lovely laws for them. And
these men were brave and fierce in battle, but
gentle and courteous to each other and to all
women. If a man were lame, deformed in any
way, they would forgive him if sometimes he w r as
rude and ungentle in speech or manner. They
thought it was a part of his infirmity. But they
were so strong and brave and beautiful, they
believed there was no excuse if they were not
always kind and courtly to the lowliest person as
to the king himself, and especially to any woman
who needed aid and comfort. They thought
strength should be generous to weakness, and
men are stronger than women, you know, dear.
Sir Launcelot, was the most famous knight. In a
very old book this was written of him : 'Ah !. Sir
Launcelot, there thou liest that wert never
matched of earthly knights' hands. Thou wert
the fairest person and the goodliest of any that
rode in the press of knights. Thou wert the tru-
est friend to thy sworn brother of any that ever
bestrode horse. Most courteous wert thou and
gentle of all that sat in hall among dames. And
thou wert the sternest knight to thy mortal foe
that ever laid spear in the rest.'
" There were ever so many knights, Gem, and
such lovely stories ! You will read them all some
day. Only, dear, you see that they were not
ashamed to do little trifling kind things for people.
ONE SUMMER. 109
They forbore their own advantage. They never
used rough, hard words."
Gem sat with drooping eyelids, nervously open-
ing and shutting his knife.
" Say that again, will yer, about that chap with
the spear."
Leigh again repeated " There thou liest, Sir
Launcelot."
Gem's face worked queerly.
Leigh was amazed at the effect her words had
produced. It was difficult even for her to realize
how utterly new these ideas were to Gem. It was
indeed another world opening before poor pagan
Jimmie, whose ideas of right and wrong, of the
wildest description, were derived from sickly nar-
ratives in which virtue was clothed in revolting
colors and invariably came to some pitiful, man-
gled end ; and so it happened that he had dreaded
holy people as one dreads disease, and never for
one moment in his lawless little life had he
wanted "to be an angel." There was, then, ac-
cording to Miss Leigh, a theory of goodness that
would not make him like stuffy old Deacon Potter,
nor yet like the suffering heroes in the Sunday-
school books.
" Was the little fellers like the big ones ] "
" I presume so."
Gem looked unhappy.
" What is it, dear ] "
" Snails," was the laconic response.
" Gem, we will bury those snails out of sight.
The knights of the Round Table would undoubt-
edly have put you in durance vile for that little
110 ONE SUMMER.
eccentricity. But they believed that big men, and
little men too, need not be naughty always be-
cause they were naughty once. And if they
could see you taking such good care of a forlorn
damsel far away from friends and home, showing
me the sweetest spots in the world, bringing me
ferns and mosses when you care nothing for such
things yourself, leading me so carefully over boggy
places and rough roads, amusing me and makiug
my days so much less lonely and less long, and
being altogether such a faithful little squire, such
a tender and true little friend, why, Gem, they
would be proud of you, as I am. They would for-
give the snail episode, provided your good sister
would, and by and by they would make a Sir Gem
of you, aud-you would be my knight."
Gem was more moved than he cared to show.
Still the knife blade snapped and the little boat
lay idly by his side.
" You are my little knight. See ! here are my
colors." She took off her hat, untied a narrow
violet ribbon from her hair, and, quickly fashioning
it into a knot with floating ends, pinned it to the
boy's rough jacket. " The old days are gone, but
people are the same, I suppose, after all. You will
have no dragons to slay, nor anything dreadful to
do for me, but you may keep my colors, and they
will say to you that I love and trust you, and be-
lieve that you are a brave little man who is going
to be gentle as well as strong, gentle because he i
strong."
A month before Gem would have looked with
impish derision upon a scene like this, and received
ONE SUMMER. m
the colors and Leigh's little presentation-speech with
a demoniac howl. Now it all seemed right and nat-
ural enough. It was Leigh's way of doing things,
perhaps; or it may be Jimmie had found his
soul.
Casting a pleased look at his badge of honor, and
passing his hand over it with a grimy caress, not
likely to improve the delicate hue of the ribbon, he
said,
l How long did them fellers keep it up 1 Was
they allers keerful about fightin' hard an' talkin'
easy 1 "
" No, dear. Evil crept in among them finally."
" What became o' the smart chap ] "
" Arthur was borne away to fairy-land in an en-
chanted barge, and :
" He ain't the one I mean. I like t' other feller
best."
" Gem, it is odd, but I always liked Launcelot
better, myself. But we ought n't. He was not
nearly so good as Arthur."
" Can't help it," persisted Gem. " 1 '11 bet on
the chap with the spear every time. He 's jest
like Mr. Ogden, percisely."
Leigh tried to imagine the stately Launcelot
marching a luckless maiden several weary, wretched,
muddy miles, and leaving her to trudge back alone
as best she might, or taking a two-dollar bill out
of his vest-pocket, or prying into a young lady's
sketch-book. He, the anaconda, like Sir Launce-
lot, indeed !
Gem at that moment sprang to his feet with a
spirited, " By thunder ! there he is ! " and pranced
112 ONE SUMMER.
down to the water like a mad creature. "Ship
ahoy ! " he shouted, making a speaking-trumpet of
his two hands. " Ahoy, I say ! Mr. Ogden-n-n-n !
He 's put about. He 's a-comin'," he said, turning
and nodding encouragingly to Leigh.
She would if possible have curbed Gem's impet-
uous movements ; but that brilliant youth had
flashed like a meteor beyond her reach and influ-
ence before she realized his intentions. The fatal
deed was done, Mr. Ogden summoned, and his
boat swiftly approaching, and she could only make
ready her weapons, offensive and defensive. The
wherry turned into the cove, making for that point
on the shore where a small figure was capering
about wildly, and sending characteristic shouts of
welcome over the water.
" Ain't she a beauty ! Ain't she a bird ! Here 's
me, an' here 's her, an' here 's every blessed one
of us."
Philip brought the boat plumplv up on the shore.
Turning his head just enough to see the inimitable
Jim, but not sufficiently to command a view of that
dignified young person who stood with an air of
elegant unconcern farther up the bank, he said care-
lessly, " Jump in, old fellow," never dreaming but
that Jim was alone, and that he wished to avail
himself of the opportunity of a row home. Blind
and obtuse man, who had caught but a part of the
child's remarks, and fancied " here 's her " referred
to the wherry.
" 0, come now, take her ! She ain't a mite
afraid. She 'd like to go first-rate, would n't y?r,
Miss Leigh 1"
ONE SUMMER. 113
" No, I thank you, Gem, not to-night, if you
please," " a voice replied far up the height," a
voice which sounded mischievous in spite of itself,
and which gave Mr. Ogden his first intimation of the
presence of a third person. Surprised, he turned
quickly, and saw Miss Doane leaning in assumed
nonchalance against a great rock. In her hand was
the famous umbrella, which, like the " snow-white
plume " of King Henry of Navarre, was always in
the thickest of the fight. The low light from the
western sky behind her, shining through her pret-
ty hair, made a golden halo round a head which, it
is evident, was not that of a saint.
He was for an instant thrown off his guard.
Leigh saw it with wicked joy.
" I beg a thousand pardons, Miss Doane. I did
not see you until this moment."
" That is not of the slightest consequence, Mr.
Ogden," she returned with ineffable dignity, put-
ting on her hat and throwing her shawl over her
shoulders.
" Gem, are you coming with me, or do you pre-
fer to row back ? " she calmly inquired.
Gem looked blank.
" A child may say ' Amen '
To a bishop's prayer, arid see the way it goes " ;
and Gem, though all unused to the inscrutable
ways of society, and to the method by which young
ladies and gentlemen ceremoniously scratch out
one another's eyes, could yet perceive that a heavy
cloud hung gloomily between his two bright par-
ticular stars.
114 OXE SUMMER.
Looking with disappointed, wondering eyes from
his beloved boatman to Leigh, he said sadly,
" I brung yer here, an' I '11 see yer home ; but if
yer 'd only jest get into his wherry an' "
" Come, dear," said Leigh, impressively. " It is
growing very late."
She felt that at last her star was in the ascend-
ant. While the enemy, unconscious of her pres-
ence, had drawn up to the shore and sat with back
turned and unconscious mien, she had had time
to observe the ludicrous elements of the scene as
well as to prepare for battle. This temporary
advantage she fully appreciated, and, together with
poor Gem's bewilderment .and comical chagrin, it
had the effect of somewhat diminishing the resent-
ment she had previously cherished towards Mr.
Ogden. Still, it was with a superb and lofty air
that she condescended to make a slight inclination
in the direction of the boat, and a most majestic
" Good evening, Mr. Ogden," that she deigned to
bestow upon him.
" Good evening, Miss Doane," was the stiff re-
sponse. " Come up to my room when you get
back, will you, Jim ? "
" All right," said the boy, subdued bevond
belief.
The two figures climbing the bank, as before
swinging the basket, stood out boldly in the mel-
low sunset light.
Philip could hear their voices, and the free,
merry laugh with which Leigh greeted some of
Gem's philosophy.
" The vials of her wrath she delights to empty
ONE SUMMER. 115
on my head ; while to my friend Jim she is all
softness and sunshine. She honored rne this
evening by calling me by my name, which is more
than she deigned to do at our last interview of
refrigerator memory. Yet, ' To err is feminine,
to forgive impossible,' is no doubt her motto.
Did Edgecomb throw a glamour over her, or had
she in propria persona that picturesque, wood-
nymph look 1 How she manages to start up sud-
denly out of the ground and make a picture of
herself ! " he thought, recalling her attitude as she
stood with her hat in her hand, her lovely face
slightly flushed by her long day of wandering,
and her shining hair roughened by little breezes.
Likening her to the Lorelei, and feeling like beg-
ging his own pardon for so execrable a pun, he
pulled with strong, steady stroke out of the cove
and up the river.
116 ONE SUMMER.
CHAPTER XI.
' The gentler-born the maiden, the more bound,
My father, to be sweet and serviceable
To noble knignts in sickness, as you know,
When these have worn their tokens. "
OBERT, Robert, toi que j'aime," sang
Leigh, with operatic abandon, as she
dusted her books, arranged a few
flowers, and shook her table-cover vigor-
ously out of a window.
Loud and clear and happy sounded her morning-
carol to Philip Ogden's ears as he passed under the
elrns and up the old-fashioned paved walk that
led from the gate to the door. Wide open were
the three windows of the girl's room. In came
the sunshine and light morning breeze, and out
went the flood of melody. More extravagant and
audacious grew the singer every moment, until,
after improvising a marvellous cadenza, the like of
which was never attempted upon any known stage,
and executing what might be called an impossible
trill, she concluded her efforts with a defiant little
shriek on the highest note she could reach, and
stopped to regain her breath. And Philip, stand-
ing down at the porch, feeling like a wretched
intruder, or as if he had been again discovered
gazing in her sketch-book, knowing well that he
was the last person in the world whom Miss
ONE SUMMER. 117
Doane would have selected to represent an enrap-
tured audience, thought that a kindred impulse
to that which made Jim stand on his head and
turn handsprings was animating this many-sided
young lady.
The sunshine and warmth, her sweet fresh
youth and health, and a dash of childlike fun,
were all expressed in the glad notes she poured
forth with such delicious freedom as she moved
about her room. The gentlemanly anaconda, fol-
lowing the instincts of his nature, swallowed the
happy tones and the picture they suggested.
The girl's voice sounded childlike and innocent.
He was sorry when she stopped. He liked to
hear her, as one likes anything joyful and fresh
and free. The chameleon had never before pre-
sented to his gaze so attractive a hue.
Not wishing to deliberately put himself in the
way of meeting Miss Doane, he had come there
that morning most unwillingly, and only because
he could not in kindness refuse. Now he was not
sorry. He was quite unused to girls and their
little home-ways, and he felt kindly and cordially,
for the moment, to this girl of the happy voice
with the " fun " in it, who busied herself about her
room and sang in the morning sunshine for pure
gladness of heart. He was grateful for the
glimpse she had all unconsciously given him of
her real self, although he knew it was highly
probable that she would clothe herself with pride
as with a garment, and descend that quaint old
staircase with all the majesty of a line of
kings.
118 ONE SUMMER.
" Robert, Robert," began the girl with renewed
energy.
Philip had knocked once, and patiently waited
for somebody to appear.
No one came.
Bees buzzed about the honeysuckles by the
porch, the fragrance of sweet-peas and great white
lilies stole round pleasantly from the garden at
the side of the house, the sun shone in through
the open door on the faded oil-cloth, and above,
Leigh was attempting another extravaganza. He
ventured once more to raise the heavy knocker.
Leigh, deeply absorbed, heard nothing but her own
voice, of which the volume of tone was no slight
thing.
Miss Phipps at last opened a door at the end of
the hall and peered out curiously.
" Oh ! " she said, advancing. " My hands was in
the dough, an' I did n't know but she was round
somewheres. Oh ! You 're the one as was here
before, ain't yer 1 Be yer any relation o' hern 1 "
" I have not that honor," said the young man,
amiably. " Will you be kind enough to give this to
Miss DoaneT' extending his card.
Miss Phipps slowly drew her spectacle-case from
her pocket, the spectacles from the case, and, as
on the pi*evious occasion when Mr. Ogclen had ap-
peared at her door, subjected him and his card to
a severe scrutiny, which he bore unflinchingly.
" That 's her up there a-hollerin." Having com-
municated the self-evident fact, she added : " She
allers screeches mornin's when she 's a-fixin' her
flowers. Thought she 'd make me deef when she
OXE SUMMER. H9
first come. Used to it now. Like to hear her
goinVou. Sounds kinder cheerful-like, don't it,
now ? " And a smile actually hovered for a mo-
ment over her grim features.
Philip civilly said " Very," and mildly renewed
his suggestion that his card should be presented
to the attic warbler.
Whereupon Miss Phipps shouts from the foot of
the stairs, with force sufficient to interrupt Leigh
in one of her most elaborate and impassioned
nights.
"Yes, Miss Phipps, what is it?" comes pleasantly
down in her ordinary voice.
It does not occur to her to move from her apart-
ments, knowing the usual tenor of Phipps's remarks.
Does she want the apple-pies sweetened with sugar,
or molasses, and will she have caraway-seeds in the
cookies, or something of similar import, Leigh ex-
pects to be asked.
Instead, distinct and shrill from the foot of the
stairs ascend these ominous words,
" Mr. Phillup Ogdin " ' 0-gden ' she called
it, reading from the card, and suggesting "ogre"
to her listeners " is a-waitin' down here to see
yer."
Gone are the merry roulades, and " all the air a
solemn stillness holds."
The silence above can be felt.
Below, the ancient Phipps remarks audibly,
" Her door 's open. She 's up there, an' she 's
heerd. I don' know why she don't answer, but I
s'pose she '11 come down when she gits ready."
With which eminently cheering and sagacious an-
120 OXE SUMMER.
nouncement, after inviting Philip to "come in an'
take a cheer," and imparting the valuable informa-
tion that " sittin' 's as cheap as standin," her tall,
gaunt figure vanishes from his gaze, and she goes
where her dough awaits her.
Presently Leigh, with lady-like composure, comes
down the broad staircase. Certainly no mortal could
accuse that demure damsel of ever raising her
voice above regulation rules and shouting for joy.
She realized that he must have heard her mu-
sical uproar, and had wished somewhat impatiently
that once in a while he might appear in an oi'di-
nary fashion, if it were, as it seemed to be, an unal-
terable decree of fate that she and " that man "
must meet. Having only taken sufficient time to
assume, as photographers say, the expression she
wished to wear, she appeared before Philip, feeling
as if she were acting a prominent part in a genteel
comedy.
The expression was well chosen. It conveyed
no idea of her wonder as to his object in coming,
nor yet of her strong desire to laugh out frankly
because she had been discovered making the morn-
ing hideous.
Xot the faintest hint that he had heard any-
thing which he was not expected to hear appeared
on his countenance, as he responded to her "Good
morning."
" I am sorry to disturb you so early, Miss Doane,
but Jimmie sent me. I come at his urgent re-
quest. As the' little fellow 's ill, I could not re-
fuse."
" Gem ill ! " she exclaimed. " Is it possible ! Is
ONE SUMMER. 121
he very ill]" she asked, anxiously forgetting that
she was talking to the anaconda, and must remem-
ber her dignity. Frankly the great brown eyes,
full of sympathy for her little friend, looked down
at him as he stood on a lower step.
" They call it a low fever. He is not seriously
ill at present, but I presume he may become so.
He seems weak and listless, and once in a while
his mind wanders a little. The people at the cot-
tage are n't used to sickness, and don't make the
boy any too happy, and this morning he begged so
piteously to see you, that I could do no less than
tell you."
" O, certainly ! " Leigh said. " Poor little Gem !
I will go at once."
" I have a wagon out here," began Philip.
" And you are going to drive me down ] That
will be ever so much better than walking," Leigh
said hurriedly. " I will be ready in a very few
moments." And she ran rapidly up to her room.
Not a vestige of her former wrath appeared, yet
Philip could not flatter, himself that he personally
had in the remotest degree caused this change of
manner, which was nevertheless welcome. No man
of tolerably good intentions enjoys being treated
as an obnoxious, hardened sinner by a young and
pretty woman. And Philip was pleased that the
happy, singing girl had not been transformed, by
the sight of him, into that incomprehensible being
whose frigid majesty of deportment he vividly re-
recalled.
Leigh soon appeared with her hat on, and a small
travelling-bag in her hand. She had changed her
122 ONE SUMMER.
morning robe for the memorable brown dress she
had worn at the fort. He fancied the old manner
must of necessity accompany it, the two were so
closely allied in his mental photograph of her, and
was relieved that he saw no indications of an imme-
diate relapse.
" I am sorry to put you into this jolting vehi-
cle," he said, as they passed down the walk. " It
is the best the Holbrook stables afford."
" How long has he been ill ] " And Leigh stepped
into the old wagon with an abstracted air. " I have
not seen him in three days. Has he been ill so
long]"
Philip, amused, decided that the sooner he real-
ized that he was a nonentity the better. Except
that he could answer questions about Gem, he ap-
parently had no more existence in Miss Doane's
mind than if he were an automaton driver. It
occurred to him that her former treatment of him
was, upon the whole, more flattering ; yet, not being
inordinately vain, he enjoyed playing " dummy."
The girl's simplicity of manner and directness of
purpose pleased him, and altogether he found her
a curious study.
" I believe it was the day after he was at Birch
Point with you, Miss Doane, that he complained
of his head. He has been indulging in what the
doctor called an intemperate use of water. The
boy swims like a fish, and has been in the river
oftener than usual of late, and remained in too
long. It 's too far north for much of that sort of
thing."
Leigh said nothing. Philip glanced at her as
ONE SUMMER. 123
they bounced and jolted along, All in quiet brown,
with a thoughtful look on her face, the Puritan
maiden Priscilla could not have seemed more sweet
and staid. The hot sun was pouring down upon
her ungloved hands. They were white and small
and ringless, he saw.
Man-like, he thoughtlessly said exactly the wrong
th ing.
" This is a broiling sun. It is a pity you did
not bring your umbrella " ; and instantly could have
bitten his tongue out for his maladroit speech.
Leigh colored to her temples. Her umbrella !
Once upon a time, ages upon ages ago, she and this
man had climbed that very hill together. If this
fact had occurred to her during the drive, it had
been in a vague, shadowy way. All her vexation
and dislike, her extravagant denunciations of him,
had seemed so far off and unimportant. Sympathy
for Gem had outweighed everything else. But
that fatal umbrella ! Again had it thrust itself
forward and done an evil deed.
She did not know whether his remark was in-
tentional or not, but she felt disturbed, and fully
conscious of the unpleasant past.
She made an effort to speak amiably. She was
not ungenerous enough to wish to be less than
gracious to the enemy who plainly admitted that
he was acting as her escort solely at the request
of a sick child, but the voice that replied, " The
sun does not trouble me in the least, and we shall
soon be there," was not the caressing voice of
the girl who walked off swinging the basket and
chatting with Gem in the sunset light at Birch
124 ONE SUMMER.
Point, nor yet the careless, merry voice of the sing-
er, nor that of the calm and thoughtful Puritan
maiden. It was, it must be confessed, painfully
conventional, and remotely suggestive of the at-
mosphere of the Arctic regions.
Both felt ill at ease, and silently congratulated
themselves that the beauty of the raw-boned nag,
which cheerfully and clumsily galloped up and
down the hills, was surpassed by his speed.
Philip ushered Leigh into the ponderous pres-
ence of Mrs. Holbrook, who, not being in the habit
of devoting much time to the amenities of life,
did not thank the young lady for coming. Giving
her a hard stare, she remarked,
" Jim allers was onthrifty. Never had no sense.
An' now ef he ain't gone an' chosen the most on-
convenient season to up an' be sick in, right in the
midst of the hayin', an' me to my ears in raspberry
jam."
Philip perceived that Leigh must have had
some previous knowledge of the idiosyncrasies of
Jimmie's mamma. The young lady did not mani-
fest the faintest surprise at the tender motherliness
of Mrs. Holbrook's sentiments, but quietly said
that she had no doubt Mrs. Holbrook was ex-
tremely busy, and she should be glad to relieve
her of the care of Jimmie for a while, and might
she go to him.
Her manner was, as it needed to be, the per-
fection of tact, for she had come to beard the Hol-
brook in her den.
Preceded by the sorrowing mother, followed by
Philip, with the shrinking Jane Maria bringing up
ONE SUMMER. 125
the rear of the procession, Leigh entered the large
cheerless room on the first floor, where Gem lay.
He usually occupied a loft in the roof, but the air
up there was so stifling, Philip had offered an in-
tercessory prayer to the grim deity who ruled the
household, and had succeeded in inducing her to
allow him to bring the child down where he at
least would not die of suffocation.
She had no intention of being inhuman, but her
manner from the beginning of Gem's illness had
given Philip a savage desire to shake her, although
he told himself he might as well attempt to shake
Mount Washington. Had her youth been such
a "demd horrid grind," he wondered, that it had
crushed every possibility of kindly sympathy out of
her nature 1 ? She made no special effort to worry the
boy. She had a natural aptitude for making people
miserable, and her invincible obtuseness in this
respect was her stronghold. ' When what Philip
termed her " nagging " was more than usually in-
tense, in pity he would devise some means of send-
ing her from the room, and had befriended the boy
in many ways. Mrs. Holbrook saw no necessity of
consulting a physician," until Philip urged it upon
her. When the doctor had made his visit, pro-
nounced Jimmie veritably ill, with danger of con-
gestion of the brain, prescribed his remedies, and
departed, then arose that formidable woman, not
wishing to be outdone in her own house, and
threatened the invalid with a heavy dose of castor-
oil, which was to be followed at once, she volubly
declared, by. a large bowl of saffron tea. Moved
to desperation by Jimmie's horror-struck, disgusted
126 ONE SUMMER.
face, as she came towards the bed with the cas-
tor-oil bottle in one hand and brandishing a
huge pewter spoon in the other, a forcible coun-
terpart of the immortal Mrs. Squeers, the young
man sprang to his feet and exclaimed, " My clear
Mrs. Holbrook, is it can it be your jam
burning] Let me give that to Jimuiie." And,
looking profoundly anxious to assist her, he took
from her hand the implements of torture. Tell-
ing him the tea was all ready on the mantel-piece,
she withdrew, uttering violent imprecations upon
" Jane M'ria's shiftlessness." Whereupon the arch
hypocrite surprised the hollyhocks . growing just
outside the window with a liberal deluge of castor-
oil and saffron tea. When she returned, he gave
her the bottle, in which the oil was perceptibly
lowered, and unblushingly stated that "the saffron
tea went down very well, and he thought Jim en-
joyed it," suspecting the latter remark would
prevent her from bringing in a fresh supply. He
piously hoped the recording angel would treat this
righteous fraud as leniently as he did Uncle Toby's
oath, and that the deceitful deed performed delib-
erately before Jim's grateful eyes might not have
a fatal effect upon that youth's subsequent ca-
reer.
It bad seemed to Philip that the boy was very
ill. At times he would lie almost in a stupor,
wanting nothing, saying nothing ; then would sleep
a few moments, and upon waking would talk in-
coherentlv. Whenever he seemed sufficiently
roused to speak rationally, he would implore
Philip to ask Miss Leigh to come.
ONE SUMMER. 127
" She likes me first-rate," he confidently asserted.
" She will come. I know she will."
This morning especially he had begged so hard
for her, that Philip put his pride in his pocket,
harnessed a horse himself, and did as the child
desired. Mr. Holbrook, a spiritless, dejected man,
was out in a field not far from the house. Philip
knew that lie would have gone, but thought it
useless to disturb him. The young man always
treated the farmer with the most respectful cour-
tesy. A man who had endured twenty years'
companionship with such a spouse, and had lived,
was a martyr. pure and simple. No wonder his
eyes looked dazed and weary, and that he rarely
spoke.
To Edgecomb proper then Philip had gone to
please the boy ; and before he had seen Leigh he
had an interview with the doctor, wishing to ascer-
tain that the fever was not of a contagious char-
acter. This he felt bound to do, on Tom's account,
the young lady being still, as he told himself with
a curious smile, under his guardian care. " Docile
little creature ! How pleased she will be to see
me ! " he thought, as his awkward Dobbin stopped
at Miss Phipps's. But Leigh had not bestowed
upon him the anticipated stony stare, nor had she
treated him in any respect as an outlaw. She
had come willingly, eagerly, to the little boy who
needed her so sorely; and now Philip stood watch-
ing her as she. quietly took off her hat, laid it on
a chair, and leaned tenderly over the flushed little
face. She passed one arm under Gem's shoulders,
lifting him easily, quickly shook his pillow and
128 OXE SUMMER.
turned it. This commonplace deed excited Phil-
ip's admiration. He had once seen a similar thing
done upon the stage, and had thought it a very
pretty piece of acting.
From Leigh's pleasant ways his attention was
suddenly diverted by Mrs. Holbrook, who, with
her usual appreciation of the eternal fitness of
things, took this favorable opportunity to explore
the long-neglected closet of this unused room.
From its cavernous depths she exhumed boxes,
bags, and old clothes, accompanied by clouds of
dust and ton-cuts of words. Not content with
opening and shutting drawers with a prodigious
noise, she procured a hammer, with the laudable
intention of improving the shining hour by driving
a few nails.
The effect upon Gem, and also upon Leigh and
Philip, through sympathy, was maddening. Gem
tossed and turned uneasily. Leigh glanced over
her shoulder at Philip, then threw a comical look
of abhorrence at the closet-door ; and each felt, as
the pounding waxed more and more furious, that
the moment had arrived when patience ceased to
be a virtue, yet what could they do 1 There
was no law that forbade a woman to drive as many
nails as she pleased in her own house. Gem
groaned, and looked half frantic. Leigh rapidly
crossed the room to Philip, who was standing on
the threshold waiting to see if he could be of any
use, and in an undertone, yet in a decided, impet-
uous fashion, said,
" Do try to make that impossible woman go
awav and stav awav."
ONE SUMMER. 129
" I '11 do my best," muttered Philip. " I 'd like
to choke her," he added savagely. Leigh gave an
approving and sympathetic nod, which plainly in-
timated that she would hugely enjoy acting as his
assistant, should he carry his barbarous wish into
execution. Thus was tacitly formed a society. for
the suppression of the Holbrook. The grievances
and quarrels of their own mighty feud they ig-
nored, uniting against the common enemy for the
good of the child. This anti-Holbrook League
was an unpremeditated thing, the result of a
word and a glance, yet it was made in good
faith, and would last just so long as Gem's pitiful
case necessitated the strange alliance. Silently,
gracefully, they buried the hatchet. There would
be time enough in future, should occasion de-
mand, to assume fresh war-paint and renew hos-
tilities.
Leigh returned to Gem. The pounding con-
tinued.
Philip reasoned that no ruse de guerre would
be of use in this emergency, and then, indeed, it
would have been difficult for him to invent one.
He had already availed himself of and exhausted
the "jam." What, then, remained, he anxiously
asked himself. Plainly, nothing but brute force
or moral suasion. Everybody always yielded to
the Holbrook. Might not deliberate disapproval
and opposition prove a successful experiment as-
an entire novelty 1 She might, it is true, grow
exceedingly irate, and request him to change his
boarding-place, which result he should deeply de-
plore, on Jimmie's account. Still, he was aware
6* i
130 OXE SUMMER.
that his board was an agreeable increase of
revenue of which it was not probable that she
would wish to deprive herself.
" This will not do, Mrs. Holbrook," he said.
" You must let these things alone to-day, and ar-
range them when Jim is well. You'll kill the
boy with so much noise. Miss Doane is kind
enough to sit with him for a while, and when she
is weary I will be happy to take her place. We
are willing to relieve you as much as possible of
the care of him, but 1 must insist upon quiet in
the room, or no one can answer for the conse-
quences. There are too many here. Perhaps
you and I had better go out."
All of which Philip uttered in an emphatic tone
of masculine authority, with the air of one who
has never had his will crossed nor dreams that
such a possibility exists. The tyrant and terma-
gant mechanically pushed back into the closet the
debris she had scattered over the floor. She then
ejaculated a stupefied, "Well, I never ! " and turned
and glared suspiciously at Leigh. That discreet
young person, however, wore the most innocent and
unconscious air in the world, as she stood with
averted face and apparently never a thoiight beyond
(Jem. Philip, talking incessantly, in order to steal
Mrs. Holbrook's thunder and not lose a point he
had gained, conveyed the nonplussed woman into
the kitchen.
As he closed the door of Gem's room, Leigh
smiled and nodded in friendly farewell, while the
brown eyes looked both amused and grateful.
The perfect quiet in the room after the exhaust-
ONE SUMMER. 131
ing noise and confusion seemed grateful to Gem,
who lay motionless for a little time.
" Who brungyer letters 1 I wanted ter. Could
n't, though," he murmured sorrowfully, as if he had
betrayed a trust.
" My child, don't think of them for a moment.
I 'm going to bathe your head. Shut you eyes, and
you may drop off' into a pleasant little nap."
" When I wake up will you be right there
a-lookin' at me ? "
" Yes, dear."
Gem smiled, and closed his eyes.
He dozed a few moments, then started up wildly
and clung to Leigh.
" % What is it, little one "? "
" I thought you was gone. Marm was a-pullin'
yer off."
" Youdreamed it, dear," she said softly. "I came
to take care of you, and I promise you J will stay.
Do not be afraid. No one will take me away from
you."
" Yer 're awful good," whispered the boy.
" What makes yer 1 "
" What makes me good to you ] Because you
are my precious little Gem, and my knight, you
know."
Full of regret at seeing her merry little comrade
lying ill before her, pitying the sick child who
seemed worse than motherless, loving him more
than ever before because he appealed so strongly
to her warm womanly sympathies, she stooped
and touched his forehead with her lips, saying
softly,
132 ONE SUMMER.
" Be quiet, dear. You may sleep again. I will
not leave you."
Deep into Gem's heart sank the tender caress.
Again he closed his eyes, and soon fell into a rest-
less, nervous sleep.
And Leigh sat watching him, and soothing him
when he would wake, by her calm and sweet pres-
ence and low, loving voice.
Beyond the closed door, Philip, in the hot
kitchen, was throwing sops to Cerberus.
ONE SUMMER. 133
CHAPTER XII.
' It is best to begin with a little aversion."
MRS. MALAPEOP.
ARDON me, Miss Doane, but why should
you ] "
"Pardon me, Mr. Ogden, but why
should I not ? "
Standing out in the cottage-porch, they looked
steadily at each other in the soft summer twilight.
Already there were symptons of dissension within
the newly formed League. Upon Leigh's face was
determination ; upon Philip's, disapproval.
"I may take a liberty in expressing my opinion,"
said Philip, somewhat stiffly, " but if you will per-
mit me to speak plainly, I see no reason why you
should give yourself so much unnecessary trouble."
" Gem wants me."
" I presume he does. It is not surprising that
he should. Florence Nightingales do not abound
in this family. Still, Jim and I don't quarrel much,
and if you will resign him to me for to-night, I will
agree to call at Miss Phipps's for you to-morrow
morning at any unearthly hour you will indicate."
" You are very kind, but Gem wants me," reiter-
ated Leigh, as if that simple fact settled the
matter.
Philip, with concealed impatience, wondered at
the unreasoning feminine persistence he was en-
134 ONE SUMMER.
countering. That he was equally persistent did
not, of course, occur to him.
" Ought you to stay, Miss Doane ] It is very
benevolent iu you, no doubt, but pardon
me is it not also rather Quixotic ] Jim is in
no danger; my bungling ministrations to-night,
though a painful contrast to yours, won't kill him,
and I can shield him from the attacks of the
harpy. You had better allow me to take you back.
It seems unwise for you to run any risk entirely
alone, and away from your friends. The child is
in reality nothing to you."
" The child is in reality my friend," said Leigh,
quickly and decidedly ; " and when I left niy family
behind me, I did not also leave my judgment, nor
my ordinary human instincts."
" Nor your own sweet will," thought Philip.
" I do not see that the matter admits of any
further discussion, Mr. Ogden. Gem is my friend,
and needs me."
"A remarkably fine sentiment," was Philip's
mental comment. Aloud, he said dryly,
" Your friendship, Miss Doaue, must be a more
substantial and valuable thing than that of most
young women according to books."
" That may be," she coolly retorted ; "yet allow
me to say, Mr. Ogden, that if you have derived
your ideas on the subject from books only, it is
possible that you have not the faintest conception
what a good, honest, and substantial thing a young
woman's friendship really is." Here the manner of
the spirited champion of her sex suddenly changed,
and with a bright smile and a frankly extended
ONE SUMMER. 135
hand she said, "But I cannot afford to quarrel
with you, Mr. Ogden. You deserve a martyr's
crown for your efforts to-day. All day long with
that woman ! " she exclaimed with an expressive
shudder. " I really did not know a man " with
a slight saucy emphasis " could be so unselfish.
Please let me stay." And she looked up sweetly
at the amazed young man, like an imploring child.
" Please let her stay ! " Had the skies fallen ]
And was there anything in the world so swift and
subtle as a woman's wit 1 He was grave and dis-
pleased, and like lightning she had changed her tac-
tics for Gem's sake. They two for Gem, and Philip
against the household, was their united battle-cry,
while her little private watchword was, " For Gem's
sake." Plainly she had said that she could not afford
to quarrel with him. His friendliness was necessary
to the success of her present plans ; and now she
stood, meek and dutiful, with appealing eyes, know-
ing instinctively it was the surest method of ban-
ishing the slight frown which she herself had pro-
duced upon Philip's face. Yet her art was so pal-
pable, so childlike, so intentionally and honestly
revealed, that Philip, perfectly appreciating the
workings of her mind, smiled down upon her
kindly ; then, with affected solemnity, said,
" Miss Doane, if you have gained your ideas of
man's selfishness from books simply, it is possible
that you have not the faintest conception what a
noble, grand, heroic, and utterly unselfish creature
he really is."
" You are quite right. I do not think I have,"
said Leigh, laughing ; " but if you will be good
136 ONE SUMMER.
enough to bring me a sheet of paper and a pencil,
and kindly take a note to Miss Phipps, you may,
perhaps, do much towards convincing me."
" I am entirely at your service. 1 Avill take you
or your note to Miss Phipps, as you finally decide;
but, for the last time, allow me to beg you to leave
Jim to me to-night." He spoke earnestly and
kindly.
She replied, " Please say no more about it, Mr.
Ogden. You will oblige me very much by taking
the note."
He silently bowed, and went to his room for writ-
ing materials. " Is there anything else that I can
do 1 " he said, as he took the note from Leigh's
hand, and was about to turn towards the gate,
where he had left the wagon.
"Nothing, thank you, except not to let Mrs. Hoi-
brook drive me away," she whispered roguishly.
And Philip, as self-installed keeper and tamer of
that ferocious person, pledged his word to Leigh
that she should not be molested.
" Shall I bring your letters ] I shall go to the
post-office."
" Thank you ; you may bring them to-night, and,
if not too much trouble, whenever I am here. The
post-office is the least agreeable place in Edge-
comb."
" Yes, I know. It is where the loafers most do
congregate, though they are, as a rule, such Rip
Van Winkles they are quite harmless. It will be
no trouble to me, Miss Doane. I consider it an
honor to act as your postman."
With an amicable good-evening they parted.
ONE SUMMER. 137
Again Philip turned back, and approaching the
cottage-door, said,
" I may not see you this evening when I get
back. If you need any help to-night, you will not
hesitate to call me. You might get frightened or
distressed, you know, and we can't afford to quar-
rel, as you say, or be too conventional just at pres-
ent. You may command me to an unlimited
extent for the boy's sake," he added, with a
twinkle in his eye.
" I probably shall not need to disturb you, as I
am not at all timid ; but I promise to hesitate at
nothing for Gem's sake," she replied, smiling
mischievously.
Soon the wagon jolted out of sight. Leigh stood
looking out upon the dusky landscape. The faint
outline of distant hills, the intense gloom of nearer
forests, her conversation with Philip, and his calm,
direct gaze, the strong salt breeze that was blow-
ing her hair back from her temples as she leaned
against the lattice of the porch a few moments be-
fore returning to her little charge, all seemed famil-
iar as a twice-told tale. " Why, this is the way
girls in books feel," she thought. " They always
have lived through certain moments ages before,
and everything is like a scene long past. Such
nonsensical, romantic sensations will never do for
me." And she gave a funny little shrug and tried
to shake off the impression. What was Bessie
doing? Would Mr. Ogden bring her a letter,
she wondered. What unaccountable things one's
prejudices were ! She half admitted that she did
not really dislike him so much as she ought, in
138 OXE SUMMER.
reason. She did not like him. She never should.
If there was anything she could trust in the world,
it was her intuition, and that unerring guide had
pronounced against him. The fiat had gone forth.
They were not sympathetic. Still, she must injus-
tice grant that he had been really kind that day.
Keeping faithful guard over the Holbrook all day
long in that hot kitchen was a sacrifice, when a
man might be wandering off with his fishing-rod,
or skimming down the river in his wherry. He
had done nothing that would reflect any credit
upon him in the eyes of people in general, but she
liked it in him, it was so purely kind. And then,
with a brief spasm of contrition, she asked herself
if she ought to express her regret for the combined
misdemeanors of her unruly umbrella and more
unruly self. She involuntarily recoiled at the idea.
Ah, no ! she had felt so strongly, she could not yet
speak of those things that had passed away. The
new and the old Mr. Ogden were two individuals,
one little day had proved such a peacemaker. But
how could she tell what freak would seize her if she
should try to make any allusion to the disastrous
opening of their acquaintance, what perverse fancy
would transform the young man whose manner was
so friendly to her, so thoughtful for Gem, into the
self-satisfied anaconda, pervading space in every
direction, and constantly rearing his hateful head
before her unwilling eyes 1 No, she could not trust
herself. She was too capricious. Things might
remain as they were, and when Tom and Bessie
came she might dare, reinforced so strongly, to ask
Mr. Ogden's pardon once for all for whatever hei-
ONE SUMMER. 139
nous offences she had committed ; and then her con-
science whose demands were not very clamorous
on that point would be appeased, and Mr. Ogden
would depart, and her summer's experience would
be only an episode for Bessie and herself to talk
over, and that would be the end of it. But surely
now she need not precipitate matters, stir the
peaceful waters until once more they would be-
come turbid. The truth was, they were not friends.
But she assured herself, with lofty pride, her mind
was not so narrow as to refuse to recognize obvi-
ously admirable traits, even in an enemy. He had
been kind, useful, unselfish, and that was more
than men usually took the trouble to be, this ex-
perienced observer of the race concluded. And
his face was not disagreeable when he looked that
way, she mused. " That way," the expression of
which it had pleased Leigh to approve, was the one
which had accompanied Philip's final offer of assist-
ance, the look of kindly amusement with which
he told her to command him for the boy's sake.
Immediately, as if some one had accused her of de-
serting her principles, she told herself with consid-
erable asperity that she presumed even if she did
not fancy a man's prominent mental characteristics,
that fact ought not to prevent her from acknowl-
edging that his eyes had a pleasant twinkle, that
the lines of his face were strong and shrewd, that
his head was well set on a pair of broad shoulders,
and that he had extremely good manners. No !
she hoped, into whatever fault she might fall
through the infirmities of her nature, that she
should never grow so illiberal as to distort facts,
140 ONE SUMMER.
simply from her own private prejudice. Then the
enviable possessor of this superhumauly clear and
unbiassed judgment turned from the starlight and
the cool breeze and returned to her post, determin-
ing that while she remained in the Holbrook cot-
tage she would vigorously wave her flag of truce
in Mr. Ogden's face, "for Gem's sake," as she re-
peatedly assured herself.
Through the woods rode Philip to do Leigh's
bidding, pondering pleasantly, for the first time,
upon the many phases her nature had exhibited.
Which aspect showed the girl's true self? Which
manner was the abnormal one ? He laughingly
admitted that he knew not ; but that she was
bright and bewitching, and extremely fond of
her own way, was the latest impression he had
formed. What new role it might please her to
assume in the morning was beyond surmise.
" Colors seen by candlelight do not look the same
by day." But this he resolved, that while he
would be her most faithful servant and ally in
everv matter wherein Jim was directly or remotely
concerned, he would be careful not to presume
upon the familiar and friendly relations so estab-
lished. Until Miss Doane made it evident that
he was personally, and not " for Gem's sake," en-
titled to ordinarily amicable treatment, he would
studiously avoid infringing upon her divine right
to be let alone, which she had clearly proclaimed
to him. Their present "platform" was good for
this day only, or at least for Jim's illness ; and
when the hollow and unsubstantial thing should
vanish in thin air, it was possible Miss Doane's
ONE SUMMER. 141
emiles would also take to themselves wings ; it
therefore was fitting that a wise man should be
prudent, and consider his ways, and not put his
trust in a treaty of peace of a manifestly epheme-
ral nature, and made by a beautiful but kaleido-
scopic young woman. " She can be charming and
sunny as the day ; but if she be not so to me for
my own merits, what care I how transcendentally
agreeable she be ! " he coolly thought. And then
he vowed a solemn vow. Miss Doane should allude
to their woful encounter, or never should the mat-
ter cross his lips ; and she should first express
one little word of regret for her reception of him
at the fort, or he would never ask her pardon for
his various delinquencies. If she would take one
Btep towards him in honest apology, he would be
willing to walk miles to meet her, he knew well ;
but she must make the first advance. Once he
had begun in good faith to express his contrition,
and she had repulsed him. Now he would be pas-
sive, and await some active demonstration from
he)-. So he buckled on his armor of obstinacy,
because, though he did not admit it, he was in
peril from the unconscious attacks of the plausi-
ble, sweet-voiced, friendly enemy who had stood
talking with him in the porch.
Later, when he returned, and had put up his
horse, and walked jn at the back door, with the
freedom and independence of a son of the soil, he
found a maiden all forlorn crouching disconso-
lately upon a low stool by the cold kitchen stove.
The light was dim, but the length and prominence
of the elbows revealed Jane Maria. She was sob-
142 ONE SUMMER.
bing, arid evidently in much distress. Too fre-
quently had Philip seen her in grief to be amazed,
and he ventured a word of comfort to the ungainly
likeness of Cinderella mourning amid the ashes of
the desolate hearthstone.
" ' Tears, idle tears ! ' Miss Jennie ; and what
was it to-day ] What have you done that you
ought not to have done, or not done that you
ought to have done, and has the mother been re-
monstrating]" he asked lightly.
" No, sir, 't ain't that, it 's Jimmie."
"So 1 ? And what can the boy have done to
tease you in his present condition 1 "
"No, sir, 't ain't that. I wish he hed," she
said with a fresh burst of tears.
It had become Philip's destiny of late to observe
more clearly than ever before the complex work-
ings of the feminine nature. He nattered himself
that he was beginning to be hardened to Miss
Doaue's " bewilderingly various combinations." to
quote from the eloquent advertisements of the sen-
sational plays; but that Jane Maria's silly, simple
little mind should develop in any unexpected way
was indeed a surprise.
" Suppose you try to stop crying, and take this
package to Miss Doaue, tell her there were no
letters for her, and ask her how Jim seems."
She went obediently, and returned with Miss
Doane's thanks for Mr. Ogden, and Jimmie seemed
restless and nervous and full of pain, but she hoped
to be able to quiet him.
"I hope she will," said Philip, heartily. "And
now, Miss Jennie, tell me why you feel so dis-
tressed about him."
ONE SUMMER. 143
"Cos he spoke so pleasant-like to the young
lady, and cos his .back and his head hurts him, and
cos he ain't said nothin' about my elbows sence he
was sick."
"Ah, I see ! And you think these symptoms so
unnatural that you feel alarmed, afraid he won't
recover."
" I was afraid he was a-repentin', and they 'most
allers repents just before thev dies, and nobody ever
died here, and I don't want Jimmie ter." And the
poor girl sobbed convulsively.
Her grief, though ludicrous, was heartfelt.
" But he will not," said 'Philip, confidently.
" Don't shed another tear for him. He has not
repented enough to hurt himself, and will live to
torment you many a long year."
This charming prospect consoled her immensely.
She could not doubt, for Philip had spoken.
" It seems, then, that you are fond of the boy,
Miss Jennie ? "
She looked up doubtfully. " I don' know. I
ain't fond of him when he calls me names, and
jumps at me in the dark. He ain't a bit like the
lady I-mer-gin's little brother. He was tall an'
pale an' had long curls, an' wore a black velvet
cloak lined with crimson satin,' an' he used to say,
' What ho ! Without there ! Hither, minion ! ' "
" Jim could say that without any difficulty,"
said Philip, soberly. " He is not tall, small for
his age, I should say, but likely to start up some
day and grow like a weed ; and he will be pale
enough to please you when he gets up from his
illness. As to the gewgaws, they might easily be
144 ONE SUMMER.
hired at any theatrical outfitter's, and Jim's curls
would grow longer if your mother would n't cut
them off. There are some radical differences, I
admit, between your favorite and Jimmie, but
Jim 's the better fellow."
" You don't say so ! " exclaimed the amazed Jane
Maria.
" I do, emphatically. Don't you see, Miss Jen-
nie, that your Lord Fitz Walter is a milk-sop,
while Jim is a little man 1 "
It was evident that Jane failed to appreciate
the distinction. Philip looked half quizzically,
half pityingly at the lank, awkward girl who stood
in the dimly lighted, homely kitchen, leaning her
arms on the high back of an old-fashioned chair.
The tall clock in the corner ticked monotonously,
and she remained motionless, lost in hersilly dreams.
" Poor child ! Poor overworked drudge ! No
wonder she clings to her Fitz Walters and spangles
and aristocratic pallor, as a contrast to her daily
life," thought Philip. " Yet this half-awakened
affection for Jim might be utilized, perhaps. 1 '
" Yes," he continued, " Jim is a pretty good
boy, as boys go. I like him. Miss Doane likes
him. He 's likely to have a hard time of it too.
Miss Jennie, he has been the plague of your life, and
will be again, no doubt. His angelic wings have
not yet sprouted. But you can be of use to him
if you want to be ; and if you watch Miss Doane,
who has had more experience as a nurse than you,
you will soon see just what to do."
" Yes, sir. She 's handy and spry, ain't she 1
I can't be like her."
ONE SUMMER. 145
" No two people are alike ; but you are Jim's
sister, and it is the thing, I suppose, for sisters to
take care of brothers when they are ill. If you
do not know how, you can learn ; only do not bury
yourself in the 'Haunted Homes of Hillsdale.' I '11
tell you what. If you will let that trash alone, I
will send you down a box of books when I get back
to the city, enough to last you all winter. But do
not go about dreaming of your magnificent, high-
flown friends, or you will spill Jim's medicine and
burn his gruel. There is not room enough in the
cottage, just now, for your family, Miss Doane, and
me, and Lord What's-his-name, my Lady Terra-
pin, and Fitz Milk-sop. Let 's crowd the nobility
out, Miss Jennie."
He spoke in a good-humored, jesting way, as he
had sometimes before done with regard to these
same lofty personages.
" I know I 'm always a-forgettin' after I Ve been
a-readin'. I won't read another word while Jim 's
sick," she said earnestly.
" That is a good, sensible girl. Good night." And,
taking his candle, Philip went to his room with a
consciousness that he was rapidly learning to adapt
himself to curious and unforeseen circumstances,
and not knowing which was the oddest position for
a hitherto solitary and self-absorbed young bachelor
to fill, that of keeper of the terrific harpy,
errand-boy and slave of his brilliant young enemy,
or assuager of the tears of rustic maidenhood.
He heard nothing as he passed Gem's room; but
later, from time to time, various sounds reached
him, Leigh's light, rapid step as she ministered
146 OXE SUMMER.
to the wants of the invalid, her voice with its low,
caressing cadence, an occasional weary word from
Gem. Through the long night-watches her patient
care was unremitting. She had opened the door,
that Gem might have more air ; and far into the
morning, softly yet distinctly through the quiet
house came the words of a song she was sing-
ing.
"Clear and cool, clear and cool,
By laughiug shallow and dreaming pool.
Cool and clear, cool and clear,
By stilling shingle aud foaming weir,"
rippled the tender voice, and the restless child lay
hushed and calmed.
"Undefiled for the undefiled ;
Play by me, bathe in me, mother aud child."
And the pure, sweet tones "echoed along the
vacant hall," and found a resting-place above in
the heart of the silent listener.
Pained and sad, like the burden of her song, was
the girl's voice as she sang the second verse ; and
" Who dare sport with the sin-defiled ?
Shrink from me, turn from me, mother aud child ! "
came almost with a shudder.
" Strong and free, strong and free,
The floodgates are open away to the sea,
Free and strong, free and strong,
Cleansing my streams as I hurry along
To the golden sauds and the leaping bar
And the taintless tide that awaits me afar."
Clearer and fuller rang the voice in the glad
rush of the song, and
ONE SUMMER. 147
" As I lose myself in the infinite main,
Like a soul that has sinned and is pardoned again,"
sounded so full of a passionate joy that Philip
asked himself, wonderingly,
" What does that white-souled child, voiced like
heaven's lark, know of sin, that she sings with
such a depth of feeling about the joy of a par-
doned soul 1 "
" Undefiled for the imdefiled,
Play by me, bathe in me, mother and child,"
floated up in the tender, restful tone again, and
then the voice died away. All was quiet. Gem
was asleep. The cocks were crowing, and the
first faint tokens of the dawn showing in the east,
before Philip closed his eyes. And, though
touched by the melody which rose so sweetly
through the stillness of the night, yet he hard-
ened his heart and resolved to hearken as often as
possible to the voice of the charmer, but not to
be a whit deceived, charmed she never so wisely.
Fair and gracious and womanly was the outward
effect of keeping her loving vigils by the side of
the suffering child. But might it not be a dis-
solving-view 1 Was it pure goodness, or only
another caprice 1
148 ONE SUMMER.
CHAPTER XIII.
" The exquisite,
Brown, blessed eyes."
JEAS IXGELOW.
EDGECOMB, Sunday, August 12, 18.
TOM, Some men achieve meanness,
and some have meanness thrust upon them.
To the latter class I belong, being forced
to tell tales of your sister, or, by remain-
ing silent, to virtually approve of the bad state of
things down here. Miss Doane, no doubt, frankly
gives her view of the matter ; but people see things
differently. She is hovering over the bedside of our
common friend Jim. You know, of course, who Jim
is, and Miss Doane's regard for Jim, and Jim's varied
fascinations ; but, granting that he is Phrebus Apollo
himself, it does not follow that Miss Doane should
throw herself under his chariot -wheels and be crushed
in pieces. If she would content herself with flitting in
and out of the room in an atmosphere of airy benefi-
cence, smiles, and flowers, after the approved fashion
of young women upon the stage, I should not trouble
myself to report at headquarters. The facts are these :
She stays day and night. She has a steady, business-
like air which tills me with amazement. She evinces
a determination to remain until the last gun is fired,
and, worst of all, she works. My humble remonstrance,
once offered, had no more effect upon her than the idle
wind, and I have not the honor of being sufficiently
in Miss Doane's good graces to take the liberty of ex-
pressing my opinion a second time. Never, apparently,
was there a young woman more benevolent, more effi-
ONE SUMMER. 149
cient, more exclusively governed by her own ideas and
wishes, and more directly on the road to tiring herself
out and getting ill.
All of which is respectfully submitted.
Yours,
PHILIP.
Miles and miles from Edgecomb, in a pretty
breakfast-room, where everything was charming
except the temperature, this letter was read by
the persons whom Miss Doane's conduct most
nearly affected.
Tom read it. Bessie read it. They looked at
each other inquiringly.
" Well, Tom 1 "
" Madam, it is not well ; it is ill. It is repre-
hensible ; it is pernicious. Next week, the maj-
esty of the law which is I and the claim of
family affection which is you will fall like a
thunderbolt upon that misguided girl."
" Like two thunderbolts, Tom, dear. But don't
get eloquent. It 's too warm, and it makes your
forehead shine. Please don't mistake me for an
enlightened jury. 1 'm sure I don't see why you
should. I don't look like one. Eat another peach,
and calm yourself, my liege."
" Your which ? Did I understand you to say
your liege 1 Heavens and earth ! What fiendish
sarcasm is this 1 "
" Did I not tell you, dear, that it makes your
forehead shine unbecomingly to exert yourself so
much ] "
" Madam, that moisture which offends your
weakly fastidious eye emanates from and betrays
150 ONE SUMMER.
the workings of my massive intellect, which is
now tn'ing to solve this problem : Why did I
marry a woman who had such a sister 1 "
" You married me, my beloved, because you
could not help yourself, I was so perfectlv be-
witching. And I married you because I was not
so well acquainted as I now am with the glaring
defects in your character. As for Leigh, she is
doing exactly right, as she always does, and you
know it."
" I know, and evidently Ogden knows, that she
is a perverse and headstrong girl, and you are as
illogical as the rest of your charming sex whose
abject slave, I will remark in parenthesis, I am
in deserting the man vou promised to honor and
obey, and enrolling under Leigh's banner when
you do not know the circumstances."
" Oh ! Oh ! Oh ! " exclaimed Bessie, despair-
ingly. " Did ever a man, since the earth was
made, talk ten minutes without dragging in what
he calls our want of logic ] And what does logic
amount to, I 'd like to know ] And who cares
about logic ? It is not logic that we are discuss-
ing, it is Leigh, and she is doing perfectly right."
" My love, allow me to suggest that you take
another peach and calm yourself. Your manner
lacks tranquillity. The ladies of the Vere de
Yere family were never known to talk the crimp
out of their hair, as my friend Mr. Tennyson
feelingly remarks. Believe me, my fair one, your
former elegant indolence was more becoming."
" Tom, you are a provoking boy. Now, why is
it not quite as logical in me to side with Leigh,
ONE SUMMER. 151
without positively knowing all the circumstances,
as it is for you to agi'ee with Mr. Ogden simply
because he 's a man 1 "
" But I thought logic was barred out of this con-
versation."
" Dear, if you can possibly control that giant
intellect for which you, and you only, entertain
such profound reverence, stop its ' rare and radi-
ant ' witticisms for ten minutes and listen to me.
Of course Leigh is right, and she will not be ill,
for she never was."
" Magnificent reasoning. Incontrovertible," mut-
tered Tom. " She never died, but I presume "
" Be quiet, you wretched boy. I 'm talking now.
Leigh is perfectly right, and
" My dear, dear Bessie, nothing in the world
affords me such pure delight as the sound of your
beloved voice ; but you have said and reiterated
' Leigh is right ' so many times, that I must remind
you that ' the dignity of truth is lost in much pro-
testing.' "
" When you are afraid of being routed utterly,
you always quote Shakespeare at me. He is your
last resort ; but I kno.w, the moment you begin to
brandish him, it is a confession of weakness on your
part, and he does n't intimidate me in the least.
Now, sir, I will inform you as I should have done
some time ago, if you had not interfered and in-
terrupted and enjoyed hearing yourself talk
that we will start for Edgecomb Monday morn-
ing ; and what I have been trying to tell you is
that I had determined to go then, anyway, before
Mr. Ogden's letter came."
152 ONE SUMMER.
" You had, had you 1 You bold and resolute
woman ! You Semiramis you Judith you Ar-
temisia "
" I believe those are all the names you know,
dear, without referring to the 'Famous Women
of Antiquity.' You '11 find it at the right of the
fourth shelf in the library," suggested Bessie, with
a most impudent drawl.
" ' Entreat me not to leave thee,' " sang Tom,
mockingly.
" Certainly not, if you '11 be sensible. Really,
Tom, I am not afraid Leigh will be ill, though I
shall do all I can to relieve her. I am so glad to
go away from this hot, dusty city. We must go,
if Ave are ever going. And, Tom dear, I 'm so
happy that you can go too."
" Perfidious woman, no blandishments ! You
were actually intending to go without me."
" Certainly."
" And you mean to help Leigh in her nefarious
undertaking ] "
" That is my intention."
" And she is absolute perfection, as usual 1 "
" She is."
" And Ogden and I are imbeciles 1 "
" If you fancy the word, yes."
" My dear, I will drag my crushed atoms into
the library, and answer Ogden's letter."
He withdrew, only to return in a moment, and
put his head in the door for a parting shot.
" Mrs. Otis, I have just discovered the grand
mistake of my life. Instead of marrying you, and
having you and your sister agree in thought, word,
ONE SUMMER. 153
and deed, ad nauseam, and thereby make my life
miserable, I ought to have married both of you,
and emigrated to Utah, and then you would fight
deliciously, and I should have some peace. ' Happy
thought ! ' It may not be too late ! "
" You goose ! Leigh would n't look at you ! "
Mr. Otis bowed his vanquished head, departed,
wrote to his friend as follows :
WEDNESDAY, August 15, 18.
MY DEAR OGDEN, Yours received. Heaven only
knows what the women will do next. My wife says she
is going to Edgecomb next week, to be a ministering
spirit like unto her sister, and I expect the two together
will twang their angelic harp-strings in our ears, and
vex our righteous souls. Can't anything be done to
hurry the youngster into a comfortable convalescence ?
Blake's yacht will be round there in the course of a
couple of weeks, and the girls are good sailors, and
would like a trip more than anything, if they could be
torn from their crotchets and that boy. I flatter myself
I have some influence upon each individually. To-
gether, they are stronger than the rock of Gibraltar, and
I the most helpless and victimized of men. I rely on
you to poison young Holbrook, or get him well instanter.
We shall probably arrive Wednesday next.
Yours,
TOM.
And Bessie wrote :
LEIGH, DEAR, We shall actually leave Monday, and
Tom is making the same charming announcement to
your Mr. Ogden, who, by the way, says that you are
working too hard, and that you will be ill, and that you
have a will of your own, and what would you be
worth if vou had not, I 'd like to inquire ! Tom and
7*
154 ONE SUMMER.
I have just had a delicious little tiff about you, and I
AVOU Id n't have you ill now for anything in the world,
because those two superior beings have declared you will
be. You won't, will you, dear / Is the poor boy hav-
ing a very hard time I I have missed your long letters
so, lately, and the sea-breezes they seemed to bring with
them. Never again will I be a dutiful wife, and wait
for Tom, never ! But it would have been hard for
the dear old boy to stay here without me to torment
him, Avoukl n't it / He would have been so lonely I 'm
glad I waited, and perhaps we '11 enjoy everything all
the more, after the delay and the doubt. I am per-
fectly wild to see you, and so curious about Edge-
comb, and the farm-house where Gem is, and the long
girl, and the dreadful woman, and especially about Mr.
Ogden. You do not rave about him so violently as you
did, but it must be extremely annoying to meet him
constantly after all that has happened. It 's too bad,
dear ! And if he 's on the yacht, it will ruin the trip for
you, will it not ? If only Tom and Mr. Blake did not
think so much of him ; but they depend upon his going.
If he had the slightest delicacy he would not join the
party. But that, of course, is too much to expect of
such a person. However, 1 will not let any gloomy
foreboding interfere with my present delight. 'Sufficient
unto the day is the Ogden thereof. It will be happi-
ness enough to see you and breathe some pure air, and
the Idlewild may sink in the " vasty deep " before it
reaches Edgecomb. Who knows ? And there is n't
time to write or hear from you again. Blessed thought !
We shall see you, I believe, Wednesday, and no one in
the world will be so happy as
Your loving
BESSIE.
Philip found this letter, with Torn's, one rain}
evening, when he took his accustomed tramp to
the post-office, and upon his return he sent it in
ONE SUMMER. 155
to Leigh, who received it with delight, read it smil-
ingly., but afterwards sat silent and thoughtful,
with the open letter in her hand, while Jane, who
had learned, under the young lady's kind and
careful guidance, to do many helpful things toler-
ably well, arranged Gem's pillow and gave him his
medicine and drink. Again Leigh read, " It must
be extremely annoying to meet him constantly,"
and, " If he is on the yacht it will ruin the trip for
you." These statements were clear and strong,
and authorized by herself, for Bessie's views were
necessarily but reflections of her own. Was it so.
then 1 Would she be sorry to have him on the
yacht 1 For ten days, now, she had been with
Gem. During that time, she had done what she
could for the boy, too busy to pause and analyze
the condition of things, striving only to avoid the
Holbrook quicksands. She had thought little of
herself, less perhaps of Philip, yet unconsciously
had depended much upon him. It was natural.
He was the only person of her caste within reach.
Yet Bessie's letter surprised her. She did not
think Mr. Ogden obtuse and intrusive. Her old
self and her new self had met, and were staring
at each other unpleasantly. She must tell Bessie
what Mr. Ogden had done for her, and Bessie
must be grateful to him as she was. Bessie
must know how thoughtful he had been, and
that he had saved her from so very many annoy-
ances, and that he had quietly ruled the whole
queer household, and that if ever she found it
necessary to ask him to do anything for her, he
did what she wished as if they had always known
156 ONE SUMMER.
each other, and it was the most natural thing in
the world that he should do it. She had grown
accustomed to the grave, steady look he wore when
there was any real need of him in the sick-room,
as well as to the appi'eciative, quick glance with
which he would respond to the involuntary appeal
for sympathy which her eyes would make when
prominent traits in the Holbrook family were too
ludicrously shown. Leigh was in a. strange mood.
She did not understand herself. But it would
be only fair to tell Bessie that Mr. Ogden's ab-
sence would not increase her enjoyment on the
yacht. A knock interrupted her revery. Jane
Maria opened the door.
" May I come in ] " said Philip, pausing on the
threshold and looking in pleased surprise upon
the pretty scene. A bright fire of hemlock bark
burned on the hearth, and threw flickering lights
and shadows over the room, giving an ideal grace
to the rough walls and stiff furniture. Gem's face,
looking at him from the pillows, as he approached
the bed, was thin and pale, with large eager eyes,
and the hand which the child held out to him was
that of a pathetic and spiritualized Jim, such as
he had never expected to see.
" And how 's the boy to-night ? "
" Pretty smart. She 's a-sayin' things and
a-singin'. You 'd ought ter hear her. You stay,
an' she '11 keep on ! " said Gem, languidly.
Philip turned, and looked inquiringly at Leigh.
" Certainly you may stay, Mr. Ogden, if yon
like. You need never wait for my invitation.
Gem is host."
ONE SUMMER. 157
" I would like to stay if I will not be in the
way. How cheerful you are in here ! It is rather
a bad night out. That fire is an inspiration.
Yours, I presume, Miss Doane 1 "
" Yes ; it was so gloomy and cold, and the damp
breezes would creep in everywhere, and I thought
a fire might please Gem, and, to be honest, I wanted
it myself too. Jane kindly brought in the bark,
and I made it. Is n't it pretty 1 Gem thinks it 's
great fun. He seems really better, does he not 1 "
Philip replied in a low tone. " He does seem
bright just now, but he is very variable, you know.
The doctor said
" Ah! don't, please," she interrupted with a little
imploring gesture. " Do prophesy smooth things
to-night. Gem is better. He is really, and that
makes me happy ; and they are coming next week,
Mr. Ogden, my sister and my brother, and that
makes me almost too happy. And it is pleasant
here to-night, is it not 1 Hear the wind tearing
about outside and the rain coming down in torrents.
I like to listen to the storm, because my Gem is
so comfortable, and my fire is so lovely."
She spoke rapidly. Her cheeks were flushed, and
her eyes bright with excitement.
" You do look very happy," Philip said kindly,
" and you have been a little pale and weary for a
day or two, have you not 1 "
Leigh, suddenly grave, looked with downcast
eyes into the flames.
" Have you not been tired, lately, Miss Doane 1 "
he continued. " You never admit that you are
fatigued, but your face has told tales of you."
158 ONE SUMMER.
" So have you, it seems, Mr. Ogden." And she
looked up quickly with a smile.
" Ah ! my sin has found me out ! But you par-
don me because of the happy result ? "
" I will pardon you next Wednesday, when
the happy result will be an accomplished fact. I
shall be happy enough to forgive anybody for any-
thing."
" It will be a good day, then, for malefactors to
present themselves before you '? " And a vein of
earnestness ran through the light words.
"Happiness ought to make one good, Mr. Ogden.
I am not good ; but perhaps my blessings, Y\*ednes-
day, will render me not only willing to forgive, but
to be forgiven which is harder sometimes/'
Then, as if she had said more than she meant, feel-
ing rather than seeing Philip's intent look, she
turned away hastily, and taking some great pieces
of bark from a basket by the chimney, threw them
one by one upon the blazing h're.
" Don't you like to hear it crackle 1 " she gayly
asked.
" I like everything to-night," said Philip, with
more warmth in his voice than Leigh had ever
heard. She said nothing, but heaped more bark,
piece by piece, upon the blaze; and Philip ad-
miringly watched her pretty movements, and the
delighted child-smile upon her face. The brilliant
light illumined the whole room. Jane was occu-
pied with Gem ; the rain fell heavily outside.
Where Leigh and Philip stood there was silence ;
and for one brief moment, to both, the storm
without, and Gem and his sister, seemed far awav.
ONE SUMMER. 159
and they two standing together in the firelight were
nearer than ever before. But the moment passed,
and, with it, its glow and warmth and pleasant
sense of nearness.
" Miss Leigh," said a faint little voice, "was n't
that a jolly one 1 Jest as good as a bonfire."
" Gem dear, did n't it hurt your eyes 1 I was
very thoughtless."
"Well, it hurt 'em a little, p'r'aps; but I wish
you 'd blaze her up again. It 's fun."
" I must not, dear ; shut the poor eyes, do.
You shall have ever so much more fun than this
as soon as you are strong again," she said as a
consolation.
" Indeed, you shall, Jim," said Philip, heartily.
" Yes, Jimmie, you shall," chimed in Jane Maria,
by way of further encouragement.
" 0, come now," said Gem, with a touch of the
old sauciness, "just let a feller alone, won't yerl
I ain't a baby, if I am sick, and I ain't a-goin' to
cry cos Miss Leigh won't blaze up that ere bark.
Miss Leigh, I '11 shut my eyes tight as a drum if
you '11 sing some more."
And Leigh sang the songs the boy liked best,
without, apparently, a thought of Philip, who drew
his chair back from the hearth and sat in the
shade, while the firelight played fitfully about her,
now falling upon the dainty hands, clasped lightly
in her lap, now aspiring, gleaming about the
white throat and revealing, for a moment, the fair
hair and dark earnest eyes, then sinking humbly
to her feet. She did not sing transcendental,
mystical love-songs. She had found that they
160 ONE SUMMER.
were too fearful and wonderful for Gem, ag
indeed they are for many of us, and that they
did not affect him pleasantly. He was, if unedu-
cated, an honest critic, who unhesitatingly ex-
pressed his mind. A contented, quiet smile
would indicate his approval, while a contemptu-
ous " Pooh, ain't no sense in it ! " would suggest
to Leigh the efficacy of changing her theme.
She admired his frank, boyish scorn of things he
did not understand or like, and she exerted herself
to please him far more than she was accustomed
to try to please some of her drawing-room critics,
who received her best or poorest musical efforts
with the invariable " How charming ! " and with-
out a ray of real enthusiasm. She had learned to
know Gem's favorites well. Songs with pictures
and stories in them pleased him ; songs that did
not almost end, and then wander along helplessly
and aimlessly and die away by degrees, but that
stopped short when they were done ; and especial-
ly songs with a "jingle." Leigh had gone far
back into past years, and brought out, for Gem's
pleasure, scraps of melody she had not sung since
her childhood. A motley throng of subjects her
voice conjured up as she sat singing before the
fire, in a queer chair a hundred years old, whose
straight, narrow back, surmounted by white wood-
en knobs with brass tops, rose far above her head.
She sang bird-songs and boat-songs, cradle-songs
and echo-songs, ballads about girls at spinning-
wheels, and knights and shepherdesses, and some
swinging old cavalier tunes that suggested the clat-
ter of horses' hoofs, and once Philip in his dark
ONE SUMMER. 161
corner smiled to hear the bubbling, sparkling thing
under a New England roof a bit of a French
drinking-song, which Gem liked for its gay, ring-
ing melody, and which Leigh did not translate.
After a while Gem, soothed by the familiar
tones, fell asleep. Jane stole quietly from the
room. Leigh sang gradually lower and lower,
that a sudden silence might not rouse the child.
She turned, listened a moment to his breathing,
then leaned her head back with a long sigh.
Philip came softly forward.
" You are very tired, Miss Doane."
" no ! " said Leigh, without glancing up.
" But that deep-drawn sigh 1 "
" There was no rhyme nor reason in it," she
said, a little drearily.
Philip stood looking doubtfully at her.
" You do not believe me, do you, Mr. Ogden 1 "
" If I do not, you would not think me very
civil to say so. It would be a base return for
your kindness in allowing me to hear you sing."
" But I was not singing to *you," looking up
for the first time with her little audacious air.
" I sang to my Gem. Those were his own par-
ticular songs. Anybody who cared, might listen,
of course. But I might make a different selec-
tion for you."
" Pardon me. I knew very well you did not
sing to me. But the 'anybody' who cared to
listen was as grateful as if you had specially dedi-
cated every song to him, and if you would make a
different selection for rne you would make a mis-
take. They were Gem's songs, but they were
162 ONE SUMMER.
mine too. I claim them, and I shall keep them. I
have the most profound respect for your will, Miss
Doane. It is a mighty power. But there are
some things which even you cannot accomplish.
You cannot recall the pleasure those songs have
given me, nor can you convince me that you are
not a very weary, over-worked young lady."
Leigh was not in a mood to question his right
to say this, and it was impossible for her not to
feel the kindness in his voice. She did not stop to
ask herself why she should or should not open her
heart to him as she rose impulsively and said,
" I am not tired, Mr. Ogden. At least I do not
think I am. I am perfectly well and strong, only
I am not sure but that I 'm homesick. It 's
very absurd, I know, and weak. I am quite
ashamed of myself," she went on, with a little
quiver in her voice.
Philip said nothing, simply because he knew
not what to say. They stood in silence, while the
queer shadows danced about the room. Leigh
continued, without the faintest consciousness that
she was doing anything unusual, and, meeting the
young man's gaze quite frankly,
" I forgot it when Bessie's letter came. I was
more than happy ; but now it has come back, the
dreary feeling. I never was away from her in my
life before, you know, and I feel very, very far
away, and it has been so long, and I know I am
perfectly ridiculous, but I do not think I can help
it." And, much to her own surprise, two great
tears crept into her eyes, and still she stood smil-
ing frankly at Philip.
ONE SUMMER. 163
turned away and paced up and down the room.
He saw it all now ; of course it had been hard for
her. Not a soul for whom she cared, except Gem,
in the place. Young, inexperienced, and, in spite
of her self-reliant ways, dependent upon her home-
life. Days and days, perhaps, she had been for-
lorn and desolate at heart, while her face had
worn the pretty little cool smile, as she gracefully
parried occasional unpleasant thrusts from Mrs.
Holbrook, patiently trained the willing but ineffi-
cient Jane in the way she should go, and "com-
passed " Gem with " sweet observances." It had
not once occurred to him but that she was enjoy-
ing her strange experience, after a fashion. She
was a brave girl, and only a girl, after all, as she
stood in a dejected, drooping way, looking sadly
down upon the brass andirons as if she could read
a gloomy prophecy in their shining tops. If she
were not so physically weary that she had uncon-
sciously reached out for sympathy, he knew that
she would not have confided in him. How dull
he had been, and hard, actually arming himself
against the fresh young thing ! Had she not had
a right to dislike him, and to manifest her dislike
plainly, if she wished 1 He walked to the bed
and looked at Gem, to the window and stared
out into the night, then returning to Leigh stood
waiting for her to speak. Suddenly she began
with a pretty petulance,
" Is n't it just like a woman to go and do the
thing she wishes to do, and do it the very way she
wished to do it, and then cry about it and com-
164 ONE SUMMER.
plain]" And she looked as bright as a May
morning. Philip smiled.
" But you have not cried, Miss Doane."
"Not quite," she said ; and again her eyes filled
with tears ; " but, as you see, I am ineffably silly."
" Miss Doane," said Philip, really concerned,
"this has all been too much for you, too great
a strain. Pardon me, but you seemed so cool, so
perfectly self-reliant, it never occurred to me that
you could be losing your courage."
" But I 've not lost it," she returned with some
spirit. " I do not know what is the matter with
me to-night. I was tolerably good when I felt so
strangely here at first, and things were hard,
and I was anxious about Gem, and did not know
when my sister would come ; and now, when there
is not the slightest reason, I break down in this
absurd way."
" Poor child ! " said Philip again. And Leigh
forgot to resent the words or the tone. Then he
said lightly : " Unfortunately, we can not always
control our moods, Miss Doane. No doubt, your
fit of the blues is inopportune, as you say. So
was Jim's illness, according to our friend Mrs.
Holbrook. We are creatures of circumstance,
knocked about in spite of ourselves."
" But you must think me veiy foolish."
" You must think me very dull not to have seen
this before."
" You 1 Why should you, and what difference
would it have made *? "
" Not much, I presume ; but I might have been
able to make things easier, and to be of some use."
ONE SUMMER. 165
" Mr. Ogden, you have been very good !
Do you not know that you have 1 " said Leigh,
warmly. " I have not said much about it, but I
am not ungrateful. Indeed, I am not."
" Have I really been good to you 1 " he asked,
with perhaps more eagerness than was quite neces-
sary " for Gem's sake." Leigh blushed and, with
a slight effort, said,
" Only Gem and I know how good." He saw
she used Gem's name as a shield. Again he
thoughtfully paced the room.
" Miss Doane, I have done nothing for you or
for Gem which deserves any remembrance. You
overestimate trifling services that cost me nothing.
Yet I would presume to ask a favor on the strength
of them, for I fear it is my only hope of influencing
you. Am I ungenerous to wish to be paid 1 "
' ; Very," said Leigh, mischievously.
" But not unreasonable 1 "
" Possibly not. It depends upon what you are
going to ask." Then, with the sudden softening
of manner which Philip was beginning to find
bewitching and dangerous, " I think I shall say
yes. You are really kind. I do not deserve that
you should be so kind," she added slowly. Again,
in the careless, smiling way: "But we do not
get exactly what we deserve, any of us, do we 1
It is always either more or less. I hope I shall
never have my just dues, for I should get
such a wee grain from the sugar-plums of life.
It is not grand to say so, but I do not want to
see the beauty of renunciation. I want to see the
sugar-plums."
166 ONE SUMMER.
Philip listened, glad to hear the merry tone
again ; but he noticed that after she spoke the
smile died quickly from her face.
" You are plainly tired out," he said earnestly.
" Do hot think tne presuming, but I must inter-
fere. I should insist upon driving you to Miss
Phipps's, late as it is, if there were not a storm.
You think I would not succeed 1 " he added, as
Leigh looked incredulous. " But you do not
know what a tyrant I am when I am roused, and
I am thoroughly roused to-night, I assure you."
" Do you scratch and bite, or only growl, Mr.
Ogden ? "
" I carry my point amiably, if I can ; if not "
He shook his head menacingly, as a substitute for
words.
" Curious preface to asking a favor," said Leigh.
" Ah ! it was to be a favor, was it not 1 As a
favor, then, may I speak to Miss Jennie, and let
her make some arrangement for you to-night ]
That den in there " pointing to a little room
which opened out of Gem's, and where Leigh occa-
sionally snatched an hour's sleep "is no place
for you to-night."
" Gem will not be much care ; see how well
he sleeps."
" I am going to stay here myself to-night,"
Philip said decidedly.
" Such a pretty, graceful way of asking a favor !
So deprecating and humble ! " she retorted.
"I beg your pardon," said Philip, laughing.
" I do not intend to be brusque, but I am very
much in earnest. I shall stay, and you must go.
ONE SUMMER. 167
A good night's rest is what you need and what you
must have."
"Don't say another word. You apologize, and
then offend more deeply every moment. Three
' musts ' in a row ! No one ever says ' must ' to
me. Do you really drive me away ? "
" Certainly not. At least, not yet. I am asking
you to go as a favor, at present, you know."
" Go I must, evidently," laughed Leigh ; " and
I think it will be more graceful, as well as the
part of wisdom, to grant the favor rather than be
ignominiously expelled. I shall take pleasure,
Mr. Ogden, in obliging you and speaking to Jane
myself/' Philip bowed his thanks, and said,
" Will you add to my indebtedness by going at
once 1 "
" I would vanish up the chimney if I knew how ;
but being only a mortal maiden, you must give
me time to collect some of my belongings," Leigh
answered, passing into the other room. Return-
ing, she looked long and earnestly at Gern, and
arranged a few articles on a little table at his side,
then stood still. "You understand about the
medicine, Mr. Ogden ] "
" I think I understand everything I am expected
to, except why
"Why I do not go?"
" Exactly, if I may be so bold."
" Because we are creatures of habit, and it is
my habit to stay here ; and because I am used
to my own way, and it is not my way to leave
Gem."
Philip declined further argument. W r ith mock
168 ONE SUMMER.
ceremony he opened the door, and stood with the
air of one waiting to bow her out of the room.
" I am not at all sure that you are even a very
polite tyrant," said Leigh ; " but I am really going
now. Good night, Mr. Ogden. Perhaps I am a
little tired," she added. Philip smiled, and held
out his hand.
" Good night, Miss Doane, and pleasant dreams,
and thank you for everything," he said earnestly,
as her hand rested in his a moment.
Philip closed the door after her, heaped more
bark on the fire, and sat down. From the flame,
from the ashes, from the dark corners of the room,
everywhere he saw looking out at him a pair of
great, honest, brown eyes, smiling through their
tears. He knew her now for what she was, he told
himself. He had wasted all these precious days
in misconceiving her, in arrogantly presuming to
judge her. He would never be mistaken again.
She might be merry or sad, " or that sweet calm
that is just between." She might assume, at will,
her bright or sombre chameleon colors, might one
moment be stately as a queen, the next humble as
a little child, yet through all changes he would
know her. In her sweet, earnest eyes he had seen
a blessed vision of her true heart. What was he,
that she should care for him ; yet, could he teach
those eyes to look kindly at him on his own
hearthstone, he would ask nothing more of Fate.
ONE SUMMER. 169
CHAPTER XIV.
" There 's a pang in all rejoicing,
A joy in the heart of pain."
TOM, isn't It delightful 1 Nurse, don't
attempt to get down with baby in your
arms. Mr. Otis will take him. Why,
where is Leigh ] " And, talking rapidly
every moment, Mrs. Otis put her pretty head out
of the stage window, and eagerly scrutinized Miss
Phipps's abode.
The driver swung open the door. The Otis
family, an interesting group, and the Otis para-
phernalia, an imposing pile of trunks, baskets, bags,
and wraps, were deposited at the gate.
" Why, Tom, where is she? Where can she be 1 "
asked Bessie, in keen disappointment, regarding
her husband with an air of suspicion, as if he had
spirited Leigh away.
" And where 's the Phipps, which is more to
the purpose 1 She 's the one about whom I feel
most concerned. No Phipps, no dinner ! " said
Tom, ruefully, stalking through the deserted house
with the wondering Bessie behind him. "Careless
tenants they ! Let 's take the silver and go. I '11
plead emotional insanity, induced by jolting fifteen
miles in that diabolical stage-coach, a hot August
day."
" Tom, dear ! don't joke any more. It 's that
170 ONE SUMMER.
little boy," said Bessie, gravely. " He must be
worse. Nothing else in the world would keep
Leigh."
" My dear, I 'm strongly inclined to think that
I might continue to joke, even if that little boy
should die, because I never saw him, you know,
and I have n't enough over-soul to feel very misera-
ble about the little chap. But I imagine you are
right. What are you going to do about it 1 ?
" We '11 go up stairs, and get the least bit set-
tled, and 1 11 see that nurse and baby are com-
fortable, and while you attend to the trunks I '11
find something for you to eat." Tom smiled ad-
miringly.
"Bessie, for a woman who crimps her hair and
looks awfully superficial, you do occasionally
evince an uncommon amount of practical wis-
dom. Upon my word, I never heard anything
neater in my life than that last hint of yours."
"And afterwards," continued Bessie, "you must
take me to Leigh. Help me up stairs, dear. I 'm
tired. And then have the trunks brought up, if
the driver has come back." As they passed the
door, she said, "Will you look at him 1 ? Actu-
ally, he 's reposing, complacently, on rny ' Sara-
toga,' with my gray shawl for a pillow, and wait-
ing for you to help him, is he not 1 He has
brought no one with him."
" Yes. I presume he expects me to reward him
liberally for allowing me the privilege of shoulder-
ing my own baggage. I always thought I should
like Arcadia," continued Tom, sentimentally.
" These ingenuous ways appeal to my better na-
ONE SUMMER. 171
ture. T wish I had a shepherd's crook with a blue
ribbon on it. I would like to artlessly punch the
head of that recumbent youth."
They began to ascend the stairs. On the old-
fashioned landing, from which arose two smaller
flights, branching off to the right and left, Tom
stopped short with a terrific shudder.
" Can't do it, Bessie. Can't go a step farther.
I 'm afraid, mortally afraid. There 's a silence -
a spell a what do you call it- in this fateful
mansion. Don't you feel a grewsome chill pene-
trating your marrow 1 "
" I feel dusty and travel-stained, and as if I
should like to change my dress. Send that man
up with the small hat-box and my travelling-bag,
will you, dear 1 "
"But, you prosaic, sordid, petty soul, where,
where do you imagine all these doors lead ?
What hateful Errinys broods over our wanderings 'I
What mysteries are hidden behind these heavy
oaken panels, what thrilling tales of blood and
doom, what thing-um-bobs ! " he ejaculated in a
stage whisper.
" If you must indulge in flights of fancy at this
inopportune time, the correct thing would be to
liken the house to an enchanted palace. I have
a suspicion your language is borrowed from a
dime-novel."
"No, my love, from Thoth," remarked Tom,
solemnly.
" And who, or what, in the world is Thoth 1 "
"Thoth, my poor ignorant spouse," explained
Tom, with a bewildering and triumphant smile,
172 ONE SUMMER.
"was the god of eloquence of the ancient Egyptians,
from which elegant and exclusive race, by the wav,
the Otis family is descended. We have our gene-
alogy complete, an unbroken line, preserved, on
papyrus, from an epoch anterior to the reign
of the Hyksos. Thoth is a considerably older and
more aristocratic deity than Apollo. You did n't
know it, did you, poor dear 1 "
" I never could account for it before," said Bes-
sie, coolly ignoring his tone of commiseration, and
gravely scrutinizing her husband's genial counte-
nance, "but now I know why, sometimes, your
features in repose remind me of an Egyptian
mummy ; but you cannct help it, can you, poor
dear ? Tom, we are dreadfully silly. Do hurry with
that hat-box, or I shall go down myself." Tom
descended three stairs obediently, and halted. Bes-
sie had glanced into Leigh's room, recognized it,
then had entered her own and thrown herself,
gratefully, into the open arms of the big chair, the
only thing in the house that seemed to expect and
welcome her.
" Bessie," called Tom from the stairs, " before I
go a step farther, I want to know one thing. You,
with your usual felicity of expression, liken this
house to an enchanted palace. May I, 0, may I
imprint a tender kiss upon the lips of the sleep-
ing beauty, if I find one, as I undoubtedly shall in
this mysterious place 1 ? Have I your full and free
permission, to be followed by no tearful, jealous
reproaches 1 "
" Certainly, my gallant young prince, certainly,"
said Bessie, graciously. " You '11 find the fairest
ONE SUMMER. 173
of the fair asleep in nurse's arms, down stairs ;
hut don't wake him, please. And, Tom," she added,
choking with laughter, " there 's another one.
don't have any scruples on my account, that
man sound asleep out on my trunks. You may
wake him as soon as you please."
"Bother!" said Tom.
" Dear, was that classic quotation prevalent
among the ancient Egyptians, and suggested by
your friend Thoth 1 " came languidly from the
depths of the great chair, in the sweetest voice
imaginable. " Poor boy ! You seem to need to
invoke his aid often enough, even now. What will
you do when Leigh comes 1 "
" I am going to interest myself, at once, in Cory-
don and the trunks," was the meek response.
" ' Some griefs gnaw deep,' and for ' some woes '
work is the only means of relief."
An hour after, they were driving to the Holbrook
cottage. It was about six, the close of a hotter
day than often came to breezy Edgecomb, even
in August. Upon the road they met some of the
village folk, and were greeted with supernaturally
solemn stares.
" I believe Leigh is right," said Tom. " There
is something uncanny about this place. I don't
blame her for being belligerent in this atmosphere.
Moses himself would feel pugnacious here."
" It is the dust in your throat that makes
you cross, dear," suggested the practical Bessie.
" Everything does seem new and strange, but I
fancy it is only because there was no one to meet
us at the house. That child must be very ill."
174 ONE SUMM2U.
"I should say so,". ejaculated Tom. " Beho\cl
the vultures ! " indicating several groups of people
standing silently, or talking in low and ominous
tones, at a little "distance from the cottage.
" Hush, dear, they mean it kindly."
" But what are we going to do now ] " asked Tom,
dubiously, as they stood by the roadside near where
he had fastened his horse. " We certainly have no
intention of going in where Leigh is, and perhaps
she cannot come out. Had n't we better go back 1
We can do no good here," he said, with a man's
impatience at the anomalous position.
" We will wait a moment," answered Bessie,
quietly. " I think Leigh will come. Perhaps she
will see us. Dear, look ; little Gem must be
there where the windows are so wide open and
the people are moving about, and oh ! Tom,
dear, what is that 1 Is n't it he groaning ] " And
she sank down on the bank, putting her hands over
her ears. " How can these people have the heart
to stay so near, only to listen to such dreadful
sounds ! "
" The Evil One himself brought us here, but in
spite of him and his works you are going back,"
muttered Tom, turning the horse. " Pretty ending
to the hard day you 've had. I don't mean that
the ghouls and vampires shall gloat over you, my
dear ; and they will if you stay here much longer."
A tall, angular person left her place among the
women who stood nearest the house, and, ap-
proaching a window, beckoned to some one within.
" Come, Bessie," said Tom.
" Wait one moment, dear. If Leigh does not
ONE SUMMER. 175
come, I will go." But Leigh came. In answer to
the summons she appeared at the door. Under
the thick hop-vines that climbed over the porch
she stood one instant, pale, erect, with widely open
eyes. She did not need the gesture from Miss
Phipps that indicated where she should look for
her sister. She passed the waiting, watching
neighbors as if she saw them not, and, with
closely set lips and a hard, strained look in her
eyes, went rapidly through the gate and down the
road, and flung herself into her sister's arms with-
out one word of greeting.
" I must go back now," she said.
" Ah, dear, not so soon," pleaded Bessie ; " you
look so ill." She dared not ask how Gem was.
His pitiful moans reached them through the still-
ness. Bessie shuddered, but Leigh's face looked
gray and hard as if carven out of granite.
" It is dreadful to hear him, is it not ? " she
said ; " but he does not know. The doctor says
he is not conscious of his suffering."
" Is there no hope"? " asked Tom.
" Very little," said Leigh, in a dry, mechanical
tone. " He has been this way for days. He will
do that hours longer; but we shall know before
morning."
" Ah ! there 's Ogden," exclaimed Tom. And he
walked forward to grasp cordially Philip's out-
stretched hand. Under these strange auspices,
Philip met his old friend and was presented to
Mrs. Otis, who, even in the painful excitement of
the moment, found herself wondering what Leigh
saw to dislike in him.
176 ONE SUMMER.
" I must go back," exclaimed Leigh, impatiently,
" I cannot bear it out here." And she turned
towards the house. " 0, if these people would
only go away ! How can they be so cruel 1 How
can they stay and listen, when they care nothing
for my poor little Gem ! " And a flush of indigna-
tion passed over her pale face.
" They are not unkind," said Philip, pityingly.
" It seems strange to us ; but it is only their way.
I think they are all sorry in their hearts, Miss
Doane."
"Are they?" said Leigh, drearily. " I did not
know ; but I wish they would go away ! " she re-
peated. Bessie seized her hand.
" Dear, come with us. You can do no good
there, and you are worn out, and it is so hard for
you."
" No, Bessie, I cannot."
" Let me drive you down with Bessie," begged
Tom, affectionately, putting his hands on her
shoulders and drawing her gently towards the
wagon. " Please, let me, Leigh."
" No, Tom," said Leigh, with the same immov-
able face.
" Perhaps I shall run away with you against
your will," said Tom, trying to speak lightly.
Leigh stepped to Bessie's side.
" Dear, I cannot talk now ; but it is better for
me to be with Gem. Tom, you do not know.
You tell them," she said, turning to Philip ;
"you understand." And, putting her arms round
Bessie's neck, she kissed her once, and, without
another word, went swiftly back to the house.
ONE SUMMER. 177
Tom looked very much as if he were going after
her. In answer to his glance, Philip said,
" Better let her stay, Otis. She 's about worn
out, but one night more can't make much differ-
ence. I think Miss Doane meant that she found
it harder to control herself away from Gem than
with him, even if she can do nothing for him, did
she not, Mrs. Otis 1 "
" Yes," said Bessie, sadly. " I wanted her to
come with me, but it would be cruel to take her
away, and you '11 take care of her, Mr. Ogden, will
you not 1 " she said, holding out her hand with a
look full of confidence. " It is not like leaving her
with strangers " ; and she made a faint attempt to
smile. " If you were not here, I could not leave
her to go about with that poor pale face, and those
great wild eyes." And the tears rolled down Bes-
sie's cheeks. " I would n't be of the least use if
1 should stay, would 1 1 "
" I think not, Mrs. Otis. No one can do any-
thing but wait for the result. It must come soon.
You may be sure I will not be neglectful of the
trust you give me," he added gratefully.
" You, of use ? You look like it, you fluttering,
tearful thing," said Tom to his wife, with mock
fierceness. " The question is, Ogden, have I, or
have I not, any marital authority ] There are
times of agony and despair, when tongue cannot
express my sufferings, and I am forced to respond,
No, I have none whatever ; but occasionally comes
a moment like this," and without more ado he
coolly lifted his wife into the wagon, " which
gives me strength and courage for the future."
8* L
178 ONE SUMMER.
Bessie smiled, but said, " O Tom ! ; reprov-
ingly.
" I 'm sorry for the boy in there," said he, " but
I think so much hearse and funeral trappings
entirely premature. I 've heard of a woman who
lived in a shroud, night and day, for twenty years.
When one would wear out she 'd have another,
the way my wife does with what she calls her
spring-suits, but I 'm inclined to regard things
more cheerfully, and I think that child will see
daylight yet."
" I think so, Tom," said Philip. " He 's had a
tough time of it, but I have not been able to be-
lieve that this is the end of the bright little fel-
low."
" Ogden, let me know if I can be of any use. I
leave that wilful girl in your hands. Bring her
down to us if she faints. I hope everything will
come out all right."
" I hope and believe it will. This is Miss
Doane's ' happy Wednesday.' She was anticipat-
ing it with the utmost eagerness and delight,"
said Philip, gravely. " However it may end, I
shall bring her into the village early to-morrow
morning."
With an exchange of glances that said far
more than their words, the two men shook hands
warmly, and Tom drove off. Exhausted by the emo-
tions she had experienced after the fatigue of the
day, and seeming still to hear the moans of the
child, Bessie silently leaned close to her husband.
" Poor little girl ! " he said, the jesting tone
quite gone from his voice.
ONE SUMMER. 179
" Is n't it dreadful 1 " said Bessie, after some
moments. " And we expected so much ! And
our poor Leigh looking like a ghost, and every-
thing so miserable ! How hard it is to be happy
in this world ! "
'' What a Lady Macbeth she 'd make ! " said
Tom, deliberately ignoring her despondent tone.
" She had the horror in her eyes to perfection.
If she had only rubbed her hands together. That
was all that was wanting."
" Do you suppose it will ever be pleasant here ]
It seems to me 1 shall hear that child all my life."
" My dear, it is not an hilarious beginning, I ad-
mit, but I '11 prophesy that Ogden will bring Leigh
down, with good tidings, in the morning. The boy
will get better ; and if all Leigh says of him is true,
you '11 hear his voice in sounds a vast deal jollier
than groans."
" But, dear, it is impossible to know surely."
" ' We can't 'most always sometimes tell ' much
of anything in this world, but we won't bear any
unnecessary burdens. I have a presentiment the
little chap is going to get well," said he, stoutly.
And Bessie was comforted by his cheery tones, as
he meant she should be, in spite of herself.
When they arrived at the house he took her in
his strong arms, and, carrying her up stairs like a
child, deposited her in the big chair
Bessie smiled at him.
" Tom, you are a good boy, if you are silly
sometimes."
" You flatter me, upon my honor, you do,
really."
180 ONE SUMMER.
" Tom, I want to tell you something."
" My ears are open," he said, as she hesitated.
" Leigh and Mr. Ogden," she began, " are
that is, they will be I mean I think so. Of
course, one can't know certainly about such things,
but still, Tom, I feel perfectly sure yes, per-
fectly."
" I never was accused of being hypercritical,
but I think I may say that I have, in the course
of my life, listened to a more fluent and lucid an-
nouncement of a person's views," said Tom, gravely.
" My dear, I would not presume to dictate, but
would humbly suggest as the old deacon said ill
his prayer that you try that again."
" Why, do you not understand, clear 1 It 's quite
clear. Did you not notice her when she turned
to him as she went away, and said, ' You under-
stand ' ] ".
" What if she did ] " Tom said bluntly. " That '3
nothing. He 's been in the house with her three
weeks. Of course he understands. Do you im-
agine it takes a man of Ogden's sense as long as
that to see through a woman's whims 1 "
" But, dear, she felt that he would understand
her better than you or I. Better than I, her own
sister. Is that nothing? And did you not see
the look in his eyes when he watched her as she
went back to the house 1 "
" I hope I have someting better to do in this
world than watching men's eyes, and ferreting
out incipient love-affairs," laughed Tom.
" This is not an incipient love-affair, by any
means," said Bessie, wisely.
ONE SUMMER. 181
" And you had time to discover all this in those
few moments ? And that was why you smiled
your prettiest, and made up to Ogden so tremen-
dously, the minute you put your eyes on him ?
0, these women ! " And Tom whistled.
" Dear, you exaggerate. I could n't have smiled
much. I was feeling too badly. And George
Eliot makes somebody say, ' She 's not denyin'
that women are foolish. God A'mighty made
'em to match the men,' " rejoined Bessie, trium-
phantly.
" And what does ' to match the men ' mean 1
To be what we are not 1 A complement 1 It
strikes me that is the reasonable interpretation,"
chuckled Tom.
" Don't joke, Tom," said Bessie, solemnly.
" That 's good. Pardon me for recriminating ;
but if I mistake not you began it this time."
" Never mind if I did, dear. How do you sup-
pose little Gem is now ] "
" Improving improving rapidly," said Tom,
with decision.
" Tom," said Bessie, after a moment's thought,
" you may not think I know much, but there are
some things which women always see quicker than
men. You need not deny it, for men themselves
admit it, and I know I know," she repeated
emphatically, " that Mr. Ogden is very much in-
terested in Leigh."
"Can't a man look after a pretty girl as she
walks off, without being spoony 1 "
" No ; at least, not as Mr. Ogden looked ; and
' spoony ' is not a pretty word, my dear."
182 ONE SUMMER.
Tom took a plaster-of-paris image of " Praying
^Samuel " from the mantel, and eyed it reflectively.
( It is then your firm conviction, you small and
sapient woman, that Ogden and Leigh will eventu-
ally"
" Yes, dear, if you don't interfere."
" 1 1 Why should 1 1 "
" I do not mean that you would interpose any
real objections and obstacles," said Bessie, with a
smile ; " but you must not tease Leigh."
"0, I must not, must I]" said Tom, wickedly.
" Not for a momaut," replied Bessie, with great
earnestness. " You sae this is an extremely pre-
carious affair. They have been quarrelling all the
time. When two persons in their frame of mind
quarrel and then ' make up,' as the children call it,
it is lovely, perfectly lovely ; but you must not say
a word to Leigh. I wish ive had quarrelled," she
said, a little enviously. " It makes a courtship
very much more brilliant."
Tom looked immensely amused.
" Nobody shall say I have not a chivalrous and
lover-like soul. I '11 quarrel with you to an unlim-
ited extent. I '11 show you heights of fine fight-
ing such as you never dreamed of. Just say the
word ! When shall we begin ] "
" 0, it 's not the same thing ! It 's not half
so nice to quarrel now," she said, regretfully.
" Tom, dear, the very nicest thing now is for you
always to do exactly what I say. You promise
to say nothing to Leigh 1 "
" I am to understand, then, that my lady ap-
proves of the match 1 "
ONE SUMMER. 183
" Yes I think I do," said Bessie, slowly.
"I like him. I liked him at once ; his voice and his
face and his manner. And you like him so much,
Tom, of course that influences me," she went on
demurely. " You have told me so much about him,
and you know you have most excellent judgment.
Please promise, Tom," she said coaxingly.
" A man," began Tom in a tragic manner, " who
can resist this amount of wheedling is a cynic ; nay,
a misogynist, whom 't were base flattery to call a
villain." And, striking an attitude, he looked up to
imaginary galleries for applause. " I promise not
to molest the two innocents. I swear it," he ex-
claimed in a sepulchral and stagy tone suggestive
of slow music, blue fire, and fiends. " Now are
you satisfied 1 The sooner that tired head of yours
is on its pillow the better. I am going down to
the door for a smoke." Shortly after he called
from the porch, " Bessie ! "
" Hush, dear," she said, coming to the stairway.
" Speak low, or you '11 wake baby. What is it 1 "
" Leigh's heaped-up vituperation of Ogden was
all a hoax, feminine duplicity, was it 1 "
" Not at all ! " was the indignant response.
" She was perfectly sincere. Can't a girl change
her mind 1 "
" I have heard it faintly intimated that she
can," said Tom, dryly.
" Leigh disliked him extremely in the first
place."
" Whew ! " said Tom. " When do you suppose
the wondrous change began 1 "
" How do I know 1 Why do you wish to work
184 ONE SUMMER.
it out like a problem in geometry ? Men never do
appreciate these fine points."
" I presume not ; still, rny dear, I think it is but
fair to state, that while your assumption, with re-
gard to our young friend, may or may not be veri-
fied in the future, as yet I have seen no evidence
that corroborates your views ; which are, to my
mint!, "hasty, ill-formed, unfounded, and, need I
add, essentially feminine."
" Tom, if you say another word in that heavy
judicial style, I shall fall asleep here, standing on
my feet. What you think or do not think upon
this subject does not signify in the least. / do not
think, I knoiv. All you are to do is to behave, and
await the result."
" Which I 'm perfectly willing to do. It 's Og-
den's funeral, not mine, and either of them could
do worse."
" And you '11 be very good, and not trouble
Leigh 1"
" Have I not promised, importunate being 1 "
" Yes, Tom, you did," said Bessie, contritely.
" I know you '11 be good. Good night, dear."
Tom sat and smoked until he heard Miss Phipps
coining in the side entrance. He went out to meet
her, and to ask how Gem was. As yet there was
no change. He returned to the porch and his
cigars. " The little fellow will pull through," he
thought cheerily. " And we actually have stum-
bled upon a romance so soon, if my little wife is
right, and I rather think she is. 0, these women !
these women ! "
ONE SUMMER. 185
CHAPTER XV.
" Pleasantly murmured the brook as they crossed the ford in the
forest,
Pleased with the image that passed like a dream of love through its
bosom,
Tremulous, floating in air, o'er the depths of the azure abysses.
Down through the golden leaves, the sun was pouring his splen-
dors."
LONGFELLOW.
' ' To hate the Devil and all his works is one thing. To say who is
the Devil and what are his works is another." Miss THACKERAY.
UT you do not faint, Miss Doane, nor cry,
nor even look pale, nor fulfil in the slight-
est degree my preconceived theories with
regard to the way in which young ladies
conduct themselves after an excess of emotion."
" I should be sorry to seem impertinent, but
do you write for the magazines, Mr. Ogden ] Ex-
cept in recent essays upon young women, I never
met with such extraordinary ideas as yon advance.
I wonder if you can he in earnest. What do you
think of us, anyway 1 " And she turned her frank,
sxmny face directly towards him. Her eyes looked
unnaturally large and bright, and her cheeks were
flushed crimson.
Philip glanced at her as she sat beside him in
the rumbling old wagon. What he thought of
young ladies as a class was one thing. What he
thought of her individually was another, and the
hour for telling her was not yet come.
186 ONE SUMMER.
" I did not know that young ladies could work
as hard as you have worked for three weeks, crown
it all by a night of extreme anxiety without one
moment's sleep, and then look brilliantly happy
at ' five o'clock in the morning.' "
" But everything looks happy and fresh and
lovely. I never was so blessed in my life. Was n't
that the sweetest smile you ever saw that he gave
me 1 Was n't it 1 " she repeated eagerly.
Thus urged, Philip deceitfully assented, making,
however, a mental reservation in favor of the smile
which was then delighting his eyes.
"And then he went otf into that lovely, quiet
sleep ! Do hear those birds ! How glad they
sound ! This air is simply intoxicating ! Mr.
Ogden, what if he should want me when he
wakes ! "
" He is too weak to want much of anything to-
day ; but if he should want you by and by, you
must let him want, Miss Doane. The danger is
over, and Jane does wonders now, thanks to you,
and I shall be there. I do not think he will miss
you just } r et."
" But lie knew me. He looked directly at me.
Why, you saw htm ! He smiled, you know," she
said with feverish haste.
" Indeed he did. He smiled directly at you,
and at no one else, and you deserved that mark
of favor. How changed the boy is ! He looks
older, altogether different from the Jim I found
when I came here."
" Gem was changed in many respects before his
illness, from the mocking little mischievous elf
ONE SUMMER. 187
who perched upon Miss Phipps's fence in the twi-
light the first time I ever saw him, and seemed
like a bird of ill-omen because T felt so desolate.
And then he went flying and shrieking through
the. gloom in the most astonishing manner. It
was the same evening," she began thoughtlessly,
and then stopped.
"Gem was improving wonderfully," said Philip,
coming quietly to her relief. " How did you man-
age it 1 "
" 0, I did very little, I assure you ! It was
all his own, dear, little bright self. I have not a
bit of a mission or a call or a sphere or an any-
thing of the sort. Gem has taught me more than
I have him, and has been of the greatest service
to me in a thousand ways. I think you did him
good, Mr. Ogden."
"I 1 ?" said Philip, in real surprise. "Not a bit
of it ! I 'm the last man in existence to go about
reforming his fellow-creatures," he went on with
some bitterness. "Miss Doane, I lead the most
selfish, aimless life in existence. No man ever
'was of less use."
" Delightful ! " exclaimed Leigh ; "I always en-
courage sentiments of that kind. It is so seldom
one sees a man show the least humility, and when
he does, it is over so soon, and he immediately
forgets that he ever knew the meaning of the
word. But, Mr. Ogden, you do preach, you know,
sometimes," she said, laughing. " Gem told me
about the snail-sermon."
" And Gem told me about your anaconda lec-
ture," Philip returned coolly.
188 ONE SUMMER.
" I hoped that he would tell, since I had the
pleasure of listening to a synopsis of your eloquent
dissertation upon the ' chameleon,' " said Leigh,
unabashed ; but she changed the subject. " Did
you lose all hope yesterday ] "
"No, I think not. I was extremely anxious,
but I did not quite give him up. Did you '? "
" Not until those people came and listened, and
then I really think I despaired of everything.
They seemed so hideous and cruel and ghoulish.
They made me frantic. I fairly hated them."
" I do not doubt it. You looked as if you
did."
"How very difficult it is to be charitable to peo-
ple whose ways one does not understand ! " Leigh
said, thoughtfully.
" Perhaps that is why I do fashionable girls such
injustice," Philip said with a smile.
Leigh turned towards him quickly. " Mr. Ogden,
I 'm the happiest girl in the world this morning,
and I think- I 'in tolerably amiable, but I shall
grow savage in two minutes, if you begin to talk
about ' fashionable girls,' like the magazines and*
newspapers."
" But I cannot, even for the pleasant little ex-
citement of seeing you grow savage. My conversa-
tion is not up to the required standard of magazine
articles or even newspapers, I 'm afraid. But what
is it that rouses your indignation 1 "
" I 'm tired of reading and hearing about fashion-
able girls. What is a ' fashionable girl ' 1 Do you
know 1 Does anybody know 1 " Leigh went on im-
petuously. " People use the phrase as if it invari-
ONE SUMMER. 189
ably meant shallow, empty-headed, and vain. I
never could see that there was anything Christian
in making one's self look dowdy. May not an un-
fashionable girl be silly 1 Do we monopolize all
the faults of the sex ] I suppose I 'm a fash-
ionable girl myself," she laughingly admitted,
"so I speak with feeling. But why do people
talk so]"
" Perhaps because they have some reason. Per-
haps because it is easier to write a clever and witty
paper, when one says ill-natured things. But, Miss
Doane, do you believe that many of your young
lady friends would have done what you have done
down here in Edgecomb this summer ] You have
a decided advantage in the argument, if I wished
to take the opposite side. When a man knows
that a young lady can walk her five miles easily,
in all sorts "of weather, with no apparent ill effect,
he rapidly loses any foolish ideas he may have
formed as to the universal delicacy of the sex ; and
his past theories with regard to the .inefficient, su-
perficial ways of the modem 'girl' must vanish
when he sees a person so busy and helpful and
practical as you have been. Are you sure you
are not the Frau Bertha, the 'gentle white lady
who steals softly to neglected cradles, and rocks
them "2 My only refuge, you see, is to pronounce
you an honorable exception. The froth exists, but
you are not as fond of it as most girls."
" I am very sure I am not the Frau Bertha, for,
according to the legend, she had an immensely
large foot and a long iron nose," said Leigh, rogu-
ishly ; " and I do like froth. And, Mr. Ogdeu," she
190 ONE SUMMER.
went on with a vivid blush, "my friends would
have done fewer foolish things than I, and the
few things I may have done which are not foolish
they would have done better."
" You do not seem fashionable at all, now,"
Philip said soberly.
" I do not take that as a compliment," laughed
Leigh. " I am considered quite a fashionable person
at home, I assure you. Mr. Ogden," she went
on earnestly, " there is a great deal of injustice in
it, really. People, sensible people too, do get so
narrow in their way of looking at us. At a party,
for instance, we ai - e not expected to mention wheth-
er we made our dresses or not, or what good deeds
we have performed during the day, nor to enumer-
ate our several useful accomplishments, like the
chorus of servants at the Richmond Fair in ' Mar-
tha.' We do not have the appearance of toiling
and spinning, I admit, but that adds to the general
effect. We -look as finely as possible, I always
do, I assure you, but, after all, we are not as we
figure in the essays."
" You are eloquent, Miss Doane."
" No, I am not eloquent. But I never in any
city met with the girls I find in the magazines and
in some books. Sometimes, of course, I meet a
young lady who seems stupid and shallow, but I
cannot see that she is to blame if the Lord en-
dowed her with less than the usual amount of
common-sense. If she were a chambermaid, it
would be the same. The fault lies deeper than in
wearing pretty dresses. Mrs. Browning speaks of
'"Vacuity trimmed with lace'; but vacuity is va-
ONE SUMMER. 191
cuity, whether trimmed with lace or not. If a
girl has little that is admirable or lovable in
her nature, it would n't remedy the difficulty if
she should wear cloth of frieze instead of cloth of
gold. Now our set of girls at home, would you
really like to have me tell you 1 " she asked with
a pretty hesitation.
" Indeed I would," Philip said heartily. " No
young lady ever talked to me as you are talking.
It is a very great pleasure to hear you."
Leigh went on rapidly. " We are not very pro-
found, of course ; we are not particularly inter-
ested in protoplasm; and when we come to Herbert
Spencer in our reading, we skip him, because we
think him appalling, but we study more or less all
of the time, and ' do ' a little French and German
quite constantly, and we have our music, most of
us do, and we read enough to have a faint idea
of what is going on in the world. Then, there are
very few girls who have no home duties. Some of
my friends always make their own dresses ; I never
do, I do not like to sew." And she looked at Philip
as if she expected to hear an exclamation of horror.
" Are you shocked ] "
" Not in the least. Your confession is quite a
relief to me. I always wondered how women could
possibly endure so much monotonous stitching.
And what else do you do ? "
" 0, little things ; yet each day seems full. We
are always busy. 1 do not think we ever feel
that we are frittering away our time, or that we
are useless dolls, as we are popularly supposed
to be. If we all went as missionaries to the Fiji
192 OXE SUMMER.
Islands, it would be more to tell of; but there are
two sides to every question, and Bessie would
think I was a heathen if I should leave her. I
really do not know the ' fashionable-girl ' type at
all, Mr. Ogden, except in isolated cases," she said
quite earnestly ; " but I know very many sweet,
bright girls, who do not pretend to be wise or re-
markable in any way, but who do not dye their
hair, nor lace, nor pinch their feet, nor paint, and
who are just as true-hearted and womanly as if
they did not dance the German, and did not like
to go to the opera, and had not wealthy papas.
Then we we fashionable butterflies, I mean are
not so feeble as we are represented. Do not girls
row and walk miles and miles, and get brown and
hardy and healthy at hundreds of places on the
coast every summer 1 ? Where are people's eyes?
Mr. Ogden, it is impossible to tell anything about
us,'' she added, smiling brightly at him. "A plain
woman is often vainer than a pretty one ; and the
girl who has the most languid and fashionable
effect iu a whole roomful of girls may have
sewed every stitch in her elaborately made gown,
and be a very efficient housekeeper, with a special
talent for cooking. And the girl with the ugly
dress is not necessarily the sweetest tempered.
We are very uncertain, but it is not fair to con-
demn us unheard. There are really remote pos-
sibilities of good in us all," she said with comi-
cal gravity, "if we do not like the idea of wearing
a uniform of gray flannel, a straight jacket, and a
short plain skirt," she rather scornfully explained
to Philip, " such as is urged strongly upon us by the
ONE SUMMER. 193
reformers, you know. I cannot feel that I would
be a better woman if I should wear that costume,
or anything else ugly and unbecoming, green,
for instance, which makes me look like a fright."
" How intrepid you are, Miss Doane ! This is a
new development. I imagined that ladies never
would admit that they were fond of dress."
" I like it hugely," Leigh said with emphasis.
" I care for a beautiful color and a graceful outline
in dress as in anything else, and I like everything
that is pretty and fresh and dainty. How can I
help it 1 It is as instinctive
' As for grass to be green or skies to be blue ;
'T is the natural way of living.'
But I may not always. When I am forty-five, and
have lost mv friends and health and enthusiasm,
and the world looks different, I may grow wise,
or morbid, I don't know which, and take to writ-
ing essays, and denouncing pretty things, and ad-
vocating dull drab for universal wear, with never
a gleam of rose-color. I may even think it a
crime to wear a locket, and a sleeve slightly open
at the wrist an evidence of total depravity."
" You will never regard lockets and open sleeves
in that light probably, Miss Doane, until you have
an ugly arm and no locket."
" You are laughing at me. Perhaps I seem
absurd to talk so."
" Certainly you do not. Yoxi are quite right, I
think. And, right or wrong, you ought to have
the privilege of expressing the feelings of your
order."
194 OXE SUMMER.
11 And that is the trouble," said Leigh, quickly.
" Our order, as you call it, never does express
itself. It is the target at which everybody shoots.
When anything new and especially savage appears,
\ve girls at home hold indignation meetings. We
have sometimes been strongly tempted to issue a
' Round Robin.' Is not that what it is called
when ignorant people feel that they must protest
against injustice, and are not wise enough to do it
in any magnificent and striking way 1 ?" she asked
laughingly. " I really do not think that we are
unreasonable. We read with respect and interest
whatever physicians choose to write about us.
They speak what they do know and testify what
they have seen, and for our good. But why
should we be publicly denounced by our own sex ?
Why should the purity of our motives be assailed,
and ideas of which we never dreamed imputed to
us on account of a ruffle, more or less, which to
us seems a non-essential 1 We fashionable girls
think that it is not kind or womanly to bring
railing accusations against all persons who do not
choose to wear scant skirts, and whose opinions
happen to differ from our own, because we believe
it is very difficult to understand one another in
this world, where natures vary so much, and lives,
and modes of early training. W T e would rather
keep our hearts warm and charitable than to be
able to write the most trenchant anathemas
against other women. But in all human probabil-
ity we shall continue to be abused, and also to
wear our pretty, fluttering, frivolous ribbons to
the end of time. And did vou ever, ever in all
ONE SUMMER. 195
your life, listen to a lecture so early in the morn-
in'g ] See that dear little squirrel ! Is n't that
bird-note almost too lovely 1 That one that
sounds so clearly above the rest, I mean. Mr.
Ogden, would you be so kind as to get me a few
of those ferns 1 They look so cool and fresh, and
Bessie would like to see them at breakfast. What
a lovely, lovely world it is, now that tny Gem is
better ! "
As he stood on the edge of the wood, carefully
selecting the prettiest ferns, she said,
" You must not notice how many foolish things
I say this morning, Mr. Ogden. I am not quite
responsible, you know. I imagine I am in a wild
state of delirium, and it is of small consequence
to me what I say, provided I can talk. Fortu-*
nately for you, I shall soon have my family to
afflict."
Philip did not tell her that if only he might
listen to the varying tones of her voice it was
of small consequence to him also what she said,
nor that he insanely wished that there were no
family waiting to receive her, but that they might
go on as they were forever, riding slowly through
the woods, with the freshness of the early morn-
ing cooling their faces, the rosy clouds and golden
light of the sunrise before them, the joyous birds
singing in the branches over their heads, and the
sweet woody scents all around. Nor did he ex-
press any of the other equally extravagant fancies
that filled his brain. It was not yet time, not yet,
he constantly told himself, to risk the one thing
in the world most precious in his sight.
196 ONE SUMMER.
With the quiet manner she knew so well, he
said, passing her a great bunch of feathery ferns,
and getting in the wagon,
" If I can only succeed in taking you safely to
your sister, I shall congratulate myself. You have
such a dazzling, unearthly effect this morning, I
have trembled all the way along lest you should
vanish like a dryad into the heai't of an oak ; and
behind there, as we passed the spring, I held my
breath, fearing that you would disappear, nixy-like,
and leave me all alone, gazing sadly at a bubble.
I am sorry to croak, but you show your fatigue in
a queer way, and I fear you will feel it more, later.
If you escape without an illness, I shall be sur-
prised, and very happy," he added involuntarily. A
pretty pleased light shone in Leigh's eyes, but she
said quite carelessly, -
" 0, I 'm too contrary to be ill, because you
and Tom expect it. I am excited, I know, and I
cannot keep still. I am restless away from Gem.
I am sure I should be better with him."
Philip shook his head doubtingly.
" But as he really does not need me, of course
I shall go to Bessie for to-day."
" And go to sleep too, I hope."
" Indeed, no. I shall drink ever so many cups
of coffee, in the first place. It is so fortunate you
will not see me. You would be horrified."
" But I shall certainly stay to breakfast," Philip
calmly announced, " if Mrs. Otis honors me with
an invitation."
" Very well ; at your peril, then. I 've given you
fair warning. And, after the coffee, we shall go
ONE SUMMER. 197
up to my sister's room, and Bessie and T will talk
all day long, and discuss the details of the six
weeks we have spent without each other, and Tom
will be ridiculous, and I, to be honest, will be su-
perhumanly silly. I always arn after I have taken
care of a sick person and lost a great deal of sleep.
I laugh immoderately at everything for a day or
two. Some people have headaches. I presume
my silliness answers the same purpose."
Philip was in that ineffable state in which
Leigh's silliness would seem more charming than
the combined wisdom of the rest of the world ; but
he gave no sign, only said, as they stopped at Miss
Phipps's gate,
" May I come down to-night, report Gem's case,
and see how you are ] "
" From curiosity to observe the condition I
shall be in, after twelve hours of idiotic laugh-
ter 1 "
" Perhaps ; but may I come 1 "
"Certainly; I shall depend upon hearing from
Gem, and Tom will be very glad to see you,"
Leigh said sedately. " Actually, there 's the dear
boy up at this hour ! " she exclaimed, as Tom
rushed out of the house and down to the gate.
" How are you, Ogden ] Leigh, what 's the mat-
ter with you 1 Why do you ' twinkle, twinkle ' 1
I 'm afraid of you."
" So am I, Tom. Is she not supernaturally brill-
iant 1 "
" I think I must resemble a calcium-light,"
Leigh said, laughing. " But, Tom, Tom, why do
you not inquire about Gem ? "
198 ONE SUMMER.
" Because, Leigh, Leigh, I know about Gem,"
returned Tom, mockingly. " Why do you come
home at this hour, with your inward joy dancing
in your eyes, and burning in your cheeks, and illu-
minating the whole road like a phosphorescent
glare in a bog, if Gem is not better 1 "
" Should you consider ' phosphorescent glare ' a
compliment 1 " inquired Leigh, gravely. " Do you
suppose he is trying to say that I am a ' sunshine
in a shady place ' ] It 's only Tom, you know.
He 's a little addicted to using large words which
he does not understand, but he means well."
" I think I would consider it said in a Pickwick-
ian sense, Miss Doane. Tom, how do you happen
to be awake 1 Five o'clock was not of old, me-
thinks, your hour of rising 1 "
" My wife's evil conscience roused her, although
she says that it was anxiety about Leigh, and the
consciousness of being in a strange place ; and she
had no mercy, but cruelly sacrificed my morning
nap to her selfishness. Ogden, you '11 take break-
fast with us, of course 1 "
" My sister will be extremely happy to have
you," said Leigh, cordially.
" I shall be glad to stay, on every account," re-
plied Philip, " but particularly because Miss Doane
lias promised me the pleasure of seeing her get
intoxicated on coffee."
" If you knew her as well as I do," said Tom,
" you 'd grow hardened and indifferent to all her
wicked ways." And he smiled affectionately at the
girl, who made iu return a mocking little face at
him ; and, telling the gentlemen she would give
ONE SUMMER. 199
them an opportunity to abuse her at their pleas-
ure, she ran up to Bessie.
Rapidly and joyously the sisters talked, and all
the gloom of the day before vanished speedily in
the fresh fair morning. Bessie eagerly asked
question after question about Gem, and Leigh as
eagerly answered.
" Go to the ant, thou sluggard, and be wise,"
chanted Tom's mellow barytone. "Come down,
you magpies."
" In a moment, dear," was the response.
" Leigh's hair ! " Bessie whispered mysteriously, as
he came up to expedite matters.
" And don't I know abbut Leigh's hair in every
possible state, and has n't Ogden seen it flying at
loose ends in a very dishevelled and disgraceful
condition 1 What 's the use of beautifying now 1
Too late, my dear, too late ! The mischief 's done."
" 0, run down, Tom, do, please ! It 's not po-
lite to leave Mr Ogden."
Tom went down.
Presently he shouted, "
" Bessie ! "
An animated conversation was going on above.
He received no response.
"E-liz-a-beth! "
This was successful. Bessie and Leigh descended
the stairs together.
" Good morning, Mr. Ogden. I am so pleased
you will stay with us, and so grateful to you for
bringing my sister back," said Bessie warmly ; and,
extending her hand to Philip, took his arm, and
led the way to the breakfast-room.
200 OXE SUMMER.
Tom and Leigh followed, the former wearing a
curious and amused expression as he observed the
extreme graciousness of his wife's greeting. So
soon as they were seated, forgetful of, or deliber-
ately disregarding, his vow, he asked in a soft and
scrupulously polite voice, which Leigh and Bessie
knaw invariably meant mischief,
"Is it the custom in Edgecomb for young
people to take their pleasure-drives at sunrise ]
Charmingly invigorating habit, is it not, Ogden ?
Such freshness everywhere, such joy, such a ro-
seate hue over everything, is there not, Leigh ]
Why, Bessie," he asked, looking around with would-
be-innocent eyes, " what are you nudging me with
your foot under the table for 1 Does anybody
know what I've done] Have I said anything 1 ?"
" You never saw a sunrise before, I imagine,
Tom. It seems to have had a singularly bad- effect
upon } r ou. I wouldn't try it again," Philip said
carelessly.
"Leigh devoted herself to her coffee ; and Tom,
having received a volley of warning, beseeching,
threatening glances from his wife, postponed his
attack until a more favorable season ; and soon
everybody began to discuss Gem with enthusiasm.
When this small skeleton, wickedly summoned
by Tom, had been thrust out of sight, the early
breakfast was a merry occasion to each of the four.
The tall ferns nodded gracefully in the centre of
the table. Never was coffee so strong and fra-
grant. Never did rolls wear so inviting a brown.
Never were berries so ripe and juicy. Phipps's
features were observed more than once to relax
their rigidity.
ONE SUMMER. 201
It was already whispered that Tom was evi-
dently her favorite among her guests, and many a
well-turned compliment did that wily youth ex-
press whenever she was within hearing.
" How can you talk about feminine arts, you
base deceiver 1 " said Leigh.
" Bread is the staff of life, my child, and Phipps
makes my bread. Uncommonly good bread it is
too. Why, then, should I not strive to strengthen
the bond which already exists between her soul
and mine ] Besides, I admire her immensely," he
added with irresistible solemnity.
And Miss Phipps, coming into the room at that
moment, with hot rolls, little dreamed what was
the cause of the extreme jollity in. which these
curious young persons were indulging.
Her inward comment was, " Never see sech
goin's-on sence I was born into this world, never !
To say nothin' o' them brakes stuck up kinder pert-
like amongst the victuals ! "
202 bX SUMMER.
CHAPTER XVI.
' He looked at her, as a lover can ;
She looked at him, as one who awakes,
The past was a sleep, and her life began. "
BROWSING.
OME, my little dears ! We cannot stay
here star-gazing forever. That fragile
flower is drooping," said Tom, pointing
to Leigh. Upon a pile of planks, lying
conveniently upon the old pier, which jutted out
from the middle of the bridge, Leigh sat at Bes-
sie's feet, leaning her head languidly against her
sister's knee. Philip thought how pale and sweet
both faces looked in the half-light, and Tom paced
up and down before the group with his cigar.
The day which had begun for Leigh with the joy-
ous sunrise ride, and which she and Bessie had
passed lazily under the trees on the lawn, or cozily
in the deep window-seats, was ending in quiet
happiness down on the old bridge in the starlight.
Edgecomb and the line of the Romney hills lay
in shadow, the water glistened before their eyes,
a little new moon shone faintly in the western
sky, the strong salt air blew refreshingly towards
them.
" Come, children ! " repeated Tom. " Leigh, are
you going to condescend to sleep to-night, or shall
you sit bolt upright, with your eyes propped open 1
No one knows, Philip, how 1 've labored to-day to
ONE SUMMER. 203
make that obstinate girl close her lovely eyelids ;
but my sweetest lullaby failed to move her."
" Mr. Ogden, I wish you might have heard what
Tom calls his lullaby," said Bessie. " It was a
series of direct questions which lasted from morn-
ing until you came to us, just in season, I think,
to save Leigh's tottering reason."
" And every question," put in Leigh patheti-
cally, " related to me, my words, my ways, my
personal appearance. However interesting one
may be to one's self, there is such a thing as hold-
ing a mirror too long before one's face."
Tom chuckled as they discoursed iipon his mis-
deeds. It was all quite true. His harrowing conduct
that day would have effectually mm-dered sleep in
the drowsiest mortal. He had received a merited'
reproof from Bessie for having dared to perjure
himself so shamelessly at breakfast, and had been
peremptorily forbidden to again approach the deli-
cate ground upon which, according to her, Leigh
and Philip were standing. Debarred thus from
his natural prey, he was forced to solace himself
with such small game as came in his path, and he
questioned Leigh remorselessly as to why her
" cheek's pale opal glowed with a red and restless
spark," and why were her eyes so big and yellow,
and would she minutely describe her symptoms,
and why did she hop about so strangely, and why
did she do a dozen different things in as many
minutes, and so on ad infinitum.
" Don't you believe their malicious slanders,
Ogden. Imagine a man of genius, like me, mewed
up in a country town with these two chattering
204 ONE SUMMER.
girls. I was forced, in self-defence, to make a
study of Miss Doane. Dull ignorance cannot, of
course, sympathize with the investigations of the
scientific mind," remarked Tom, with a graceful
wave of his hand, and throwing his cigar into the
water. " Leigh's case is one of peculiar interest.
I shall instantly resume my subtle analysis, you
understand, young women ! - if I cannot imme-
diately prevail upon you to abandon that very
picturesque attitude and those boards."
At this threat thev rose reluctantly, and stood
for a moment looking off over the water.
" It 's a pity to go," said Bessie with a sigh.
" It is so pretty, and it will never look the same
again."
" It is likely to look better before it looks worse,"
said Tom, in a hearty and unsentimental manner.
" Which is a good, comfortable theory, Tom, but
it does not always work well," added Philip.
" ' Nothing can be as it has been before.
Better so call it, only not the same,' "
quoted Leigh softly. And they turned away and
walked slowly along the bridge towards home.
Leigh and Philip fell a little behind. They talked
together quietly, as old friends, rejoiced in Gem's
safety, planned pleasant surprises for his conva-
lescence. They discussed the time of the proba-
ble appearance of the Idle wild.
" I hope you will have the happiest trip imagin-
able," said Philip, "and get thoroughly rested.
With Tom and Blake you can't fail to be very
jolly."
ONE SUMMER. 205
Why did he not say "we," Leigh asked herself.
Was he not going too 1 The question almost passed
her lips, but something withheld it. Bessie and
Tom were leaning over the railing of the bridge, a
short distance from them. They too stopped, and
stood in silence looking at the familiar outlines.
There lay the fort. Each remembered that gray
morning, ages ago, it seemed now, when they had
hated each other so cordially. Far below, over
the glistening water, rose Birch Point. How pretty
and spirited she had looked that day, Philip
thought. Leigh remembered that she had said to
herself,
" It was the boatman Ronsalee,
And he sailed through the mists so white,"
as Philip pulled into the cove so easily that day.
How lovely it all was, with the western light
shining on the water and bringing out so strongly
the different shades of green in the woods on the
opposite shore-! And the swift wherry, darting in
suddenly, had not injured the picturesque effect,
nor had the figure in the boat been deficient in
manly grace and strength, nor had the cordial,
pleasant voice that had responded to Gem's
summons jarred upon her. Had she liked him a
little even then, this friend whose presence was so
restful now that the summer was almost gone 1
And he was not going with them in the yacht?
Perhaps they might not see him when they re-
turned. What did he really mean, she wondered.
Leigh felt troubled, confused, but of one thing
she was almost sure, that now, as they stood
206 OXE SUMMER.
quietly in the starlight, -was the time, the very
last time she might ever have, possibly, to thank
him for all that he had done, and to speak with
perfect frankness of their first acquaintance. Still
she hesitated. She had been silent so long, it was
difficult to speak now. Yet why not] ^Vhy wait
a moment longer] There were Bessie and Tom.
She had only deferred speaking until they should
be here. Now was the opportunity. " To-mor-
row, who can tell {" The Idlewild might come
in, and all would be excitement and hurry and
confusion, and she might go away with never an
honest word of apology, and leave Mr. Ogden
to think she was ungenerous, ungrateful. She
glanced up at him. His face was dark and
thoughtful, as he stood erect, looking straight be-
yond him. How very, very hard it was for her to
begin ! She leaned over the railing, and tried to
see a fish which had just leaped and stirred the
water.
"Miss Leigh, shall we not go on 1 ?" said Philip.
" If you were in your usual condition, I would
beg you to stay ; but I don't like to keep you out
this evening, even with my man's selfishness, as
you call it."
"You do not keep me," said Leigh. His voice
had given her courage. " I w r ish to stay, for I
have something to say to you, and I may not see
much of you after this." Philip started, and
watched her closely. " I wish to tell you," she
went on simply, but without looking up at him,
" that I am very sorry I was so rude and foolish,
and received you in such an inexcusable TV ay at
ONE SUMMER. 207
the fort. I thought, then, I had some reason. I
think, now, I had none," she continued rapidly, as
Philip was about to speak. "Please let me finish.
I only want you to know how good you 've been
to me, and with what kindness and courtesy and
generosity you 've repaid me for all my rudeness,
and I am very sorry for everything, everything,"
she repeated ; " and if you can forgive me
" I beg you will not say another word," said
Philip, in a low, hurried voice, taking both her
hands in his impetuously, and holding them in a
firm grasp. "You pain me by talking so. Why
should you say ' forgive' to me 1 I have nothing
to forgive, nothing whatever. It is my place
to beg for pardon at your feet, for pardon and
for more, for more, my darling Leigh, do you
not know "
" Ah, don't ! " said Leigh, turning away, and
burying her face in her hands. His manner, his
eager words, the strange new depths in his voice,
were a revelation to her. The tenderness which
had often sounded in his tones she had accepted
unconsciously, or construed into simple kindness
to her and Gem. This passionate voice was a dif-
ferent thing. She could not misunderstand its
meaning, nor that of the face which was looking
directly into her own. She was inexpressibly
weary in mind and body. Her fatigue and excite-
ment, followed by the long quiet evening, were at
last telling strongly upon her, and sending a
penetrating languor over her whole system.
Never, perhaps, in her life, had she been so utterly
unnerved as she was, even before Philip had
208 ONE SUMMER.
spoken, and what he had said seemed too much
for her to bear. Not once had she thought of this
quiet, watchful friend as a lover. She had done
him a wrong. He had been good to her. She
wished to make reparation, and to thank him,
before their lives, thrown together so curiously for
a time, should separate forever. She wished him
to say he forgave her, in the old friendly way.
This new voice had sounded too suddenly in her
ears. She was too tired to listen to its throb-
bing, restless, seeking tones. Instinctively she had
lifted her hand as if to shield herself from a blow,
and shrinking, troubled, pleading, had said,
" Ah ! don't, don't, please ! "
In an instant the old quiet returned to Philip's
manner. He had waited long, it seemed to him.
He could wait longer. The sweet friendliness of
her manner, as she offered her frank apology, he
had not misunderstood, or estimated for more
that it was worth, yet it seemed that he had
spoken too soon. Would she ever learn not to
dislike him 1 ? Suddenly, as he looked down upon
her half-averted face, a true appreciation of Leigh's
position dawned upon him,
" Because where reason even finds no flaw,
Unerringly a lover's instinct may/' -
and his heart was filled with a pitying tenderness.
"I am a brute to give her one more thought.
She is no more fit to hear me than a tired child.
It would be ungenerous to distress her by saying
more." Yet Philip found it almost beyond his
strength to reason and wait when his very life
ONE SUMMER. 209
seemed trembling in the balance. He craved an
answer, even if it were that she cared not for him.
Her weariness, the pale, sad face from which all
the sparkle had gone, moved him deeply ; and a
wild impulse to take the drooping figure in his
arms, and draw that weary head to his heart,
seized him. He set his teeth together, turned
and looked away from Leigh, following with his
eye the long, dark line of the bridge, steadied
himself manfully, and in a moment said in his or-
dinary manner,
"Shall we go on now, Miss Leigh 1 ? Tom and
your sister have just started, I believe." She took
his proffered arm, and they resumed their walk.
" You are very good," she said gratefully, when
they had gone on some moments in silence. " I
did not mean I did not know," she went on
brokenly ; then, not even making an effort to com-
plete her sentence, said simply, " I 'm very tired."
" Yes, I know," Philip replied gently. " For-
give me for troubling you. We are only Gem's
two friends now. He is not quite well yet, and I
may still claim you as my friend, for his sake,
may I not 1 " This light appeal, and the old jest-
ing tone, poor tired Leigh found that she could
answer without too much perturbation.
"I think perhaps we are friends for our own
sakes, through Gem, of course, but " She hesi-
tated ; her words were still refractory ; they would
not come at her bidding.
" Bless the boy ! " exclaimed Philip, emphati-
cally ; and Leigh looked up and met his smile.
Was it a dream, then, this scene of a few moments
210 ONE SUMMER.
before? This was not the same man. It was
only the old Philip, whose presence gave her rest
and relief. They said little as they passed up the
A'illage street. Leigh's brain was whirling, yet she
felt too fatigued to really think; and Philip, in
spite of the little repelling gesture with which she
had received his avowal, in spite of her begging
him to say no more, could not feel like a hope-
less and despondent lover. The intuition of love
had taught him why she had repulsed him. He
did not think she loved him, but she had shown
him that she trusted him. She had said that
they were friends. Perhaps a long, long patience
would accomplish the rest. Such, as they crossed
the common, were his thoughts, which were inter-
rupted bv Tom's jovfal voice in advance.
" Leigh, if you 're quoting poetry, mind your
cse-su-ras," he called out in a pedantic and warn-
ing manner.
" Miss Doane is too tired to trouble herself
about trifles," retorted Philip.
" And who made him Leigh's champion 1 " mut-
tered Tom. " Things must be advancing rapidly,
when that ready tongue of hers yields its right of
retort."
" Did I not tell you so 1 " asked Bessie in
triumph. " But, Tom," reproachfully, " how
could you have said that to Leigh ] Do you not
know you might have intruded your caesuras at a
most interesting and critical moment 1 "
" And have I not received explicit instruction
not to appear as if I imagined there could by any
possibility be an interesting moment in the career
ONE SUMMER. 211
of those young persons 1 In that state of sublime
ignorance which you demand of me, what was
more natural than my charming and facetious
remark 1 Hard as I strive to please you, I seem
to fail in every particular."
" Of course you do, because you are an incorri-
gible, teasing boy," she replied, giving a scornful
emphasis to the last word.
" May I not turn round and ask Leigh if she
observes how strangely brilliant Venus is to-
night 1 " he meekly asked.
" Indeed you may not," Bessie replied severely.
" Well, what do you suppose they are talking
about 1 " continued the wicked Tom. " They keep
me in awful suspense. Why do they pause so
long upon the brink of the Rubicon 1 / could help
them over. May n't I, Bessie 1 "
" Hush, Tom ! " putting her hand over his lips
as he was about to speak. " You 'd be more apt
to help them in and drown them," she whispered,
as Leigh and Philip joined them.
One moment more Philip had alone with Leigh
that evening. Bessie had disappeared in search of
wine, which she insisted Leigh must have, and
Tom had followed, and their two laughing voices
could be heard above as they unpacked a hamper.
" Miss Leigh, forgive me if I trouble you, but I
have so much to say to you. May I say one little
word more 1 "
" Of course you may say what you like, Y.r.
Ogden. I am not entitled to so much considera-
tion. I am tired, you know, and stupid," she said,
putting her hand to her head wearily ; " but I uin
212 OXE SUMMER.
not in extremis. I can listen when a frtend speaks."
And Leigh smiled at him from the window-seat, as
he stood before her.
" It is only this," he said hurriedly. " Pardon
me for saying it now, but I may not have another
opportunity. I made arrangements a few \veeks
ago to join a party of friends who are fishing at
Mauhegan, instead of going on the Idlewild trip.
I thought my presence would not be agreeable to
you. I did not wonder at that," he added, meet-
ing Leigh's regretful, deprecating glance. " You
see I thought, even after the amicable relations we
had assumed ' for Gem's sake,' some unlucky remi-
niscence would continually pop up and disturb
your peace, and I concluded it would be altogether
better if I should not go with you."
" You were extremely thoughtful," said Leigh,
quietly, turning away, and, with face pressed close
against the pane, peering out into the darkness.
t " But now I feel differently. I regret that I
have agread to go to Manhegan. I have been due
there some days, but could not, of course, leave
Gem." He paused, then went on, growing more
earnest and rapid every moment. " Lately I have
dared to hope that my presence on the yacht
might not drive away all your pleasure. Leigh,
I have not thought it, I have only hoped, and I
have even dared to tell myself that possibly you
would allow me to join the party later at some
place where the yacht puts in." Leigh listened
silently, but did not turn her head. "Do not
misunderstand me. I am asking nothing of you.
You pledge yourself to nothing. It is simply
ONE SUMMER. 213
your permission to see you again, to receive
from you a friend's welcome, only that." And
his voice pleaded so earnestly that again he held
himself back, and said, "Forgive rne, try to
forgive me, - I am presuming again upon your
patience. You need not answer a word to-night,"
he said, as Leigh turned towards him. " I have
no right to distress you. Yet how can I be
wholly silent 1 " he exclaimed impetuously.
Leigh rose from the window-seat, and stood be-
fore him. There may have been a little quiver about
the sensitive mouth, and her clasped hands were
pressed closely together, but she spoke calmly.
" Mr. Ogden, 1 cannot, of course, fail to under-
stand you. Pardon me if I was cowardly and
childish on the bridge just now. You have a right
to speak and be answered. You startled me ; and
you give me much to think of, far, far too much
for me to answer now." Here she faltered a little ;
then, regaining her composure, " Yet I would
like you to know that I think you are very, very
good to me, and such goodness as yours demands
in return fair, honest treatment at least." Look-
ing earnestly into Philip's eager face, she said,
" You say I pledge myself to nothing by what I
say now ]"
" Absolutely nothing."
" I am glad," Leigh said simply. " I could not
promise anything. I do not know."
" You need not promise, and you need not
know."
" Then, Mr. Ogden," slowly, and wiih grave,
sweet dignity, " I would be pleased if you were to
214 ONE SUMAL1R.
go with us on the Idlewild ; and if you care to join
us by and by, I will give you the friend's welcome.
I think I will not wait for my sister. Good night,
Mr. Ogden."
Reverentially, as if she were a young princess,
Philip lifted to his lips the hand she extended to
him, and thus silently expressed his gratitude.
Afterwards he and Tom sat smoking together at
the door.
" Tom," said Philip deliberately between his
puffs, "have you anything to say against me,
my moral character, temper, position, business
prospects?"
Tom turned squarely round, looked Philip in
the face, and said,
" Can't say that I have."
" ' Speak now, or forever after hold your peace.' "
" Hm ! as far along as that 1 Do you want to
shake hands, Ogden 1 "
" Wait, Tom. I don't wish to take your hand
under false pretences. I am addressing you for-
mally, now, as Miss Doane's natural protector, and
announcing my intentions simply. What hers may
be is a different matter."
"My dear Philip, as Miss Doane's guardian, then,
I give you my hearty approval and sympathy ; and,
as a keen observer of the fair sex, I feel justified
in assuring you that there can be no reasonable
doubt of a delightful unanimity of sentiment be-
tween you." Philip smiled, and quietly replied,
" The matter rests with Miss Doane, Tom.' It
is out of my hands. I await her decision."
The two young men smoked on in silence.
ONE SUMMER. 215
" Brother ! embrace me ! " burst forth from the
irrepressible Tom.
" Excuse me," said Philip, laughing. " The
relationship is horribly premature, and as for the
demonstration, I should n't enjoy it."
" Will you shake hands, then 1 "
" With pleasure." And each took the other's
hand, with that strong, long grasp in which men,
deeming words at such moments a meaningless
form, express hearty good-will, affection, it may be.
Behind Tom's jesting manner his honest soul
looked out and wished his friend goodspeed ; and
Philip saw it, thanked him in his heart, and went
off down the road to the cottage at a rapid, swing-
ing gait, with hopeful, happy fancies thronging in
his mind, all created by " the might of one fair
face."
216 ONE SUMMER.
CHAPTER XVII.
' To say why girls act so or so,
Or don't, 'ould be presumin'.
Mebby to mean yes and say no
Comes nateral to women."
LOWELL.
' Heart, are ye great enough
For a love that never tires ? "
Tnomov.
WEEK passed. Gem steadily improved,
and each day Leigh sat with him, told
stories, sang to him, and made the long
hours seem shorter to the restless, impa-
tient child. Bessie came, too ; and Gem, although
at first a little shy with her, for his illness had
changed him somewhat, soon grew to watch for
her coming also, and to welcome "Miss Leigh's
Bessie," who was " like Miss Leigh an' yet she
war n't, an' talked like Miss Leigh and yet she
did n't." Tom fussed and fumed, and declared
that he was dying of neglect, and that he had
heard nothing but " Gem this and Gem that,"
since he came; yet evidence of his warm in-
terest was not wanting at the boy's bedside. One
day he brought out some choice wine, with a stern,
" Take that to yon pampered fledgling." And
curious wooden puzzles, just light enough for small,
weak fingers to play with, and not too intricate for
the little brain, wearied by long illness, to solve,
appeared mysteriously in baskets of fruits and
flowers which Bessie sent to Gem.
ONE SUMMER. 217
Philip was much with Tom, and saw little of
Leigh during the few days he remained in Edge-
comb. He had long talks with Gem when Leigh
was not at the cottage. When she would enter
the room, he would resign his place near the in-
valid, and, after a friendly word or two, go out.
His manner was as of old during Gem's illness.
They two were Gem's friends simply. He was
quietly waiting, giving her time, making no allu-
sion to the deeper waters they had entered. Only
once, and then just hefore his departure, he
said,
" I shall go to Manhegan to-morrow. I still
have your permission to join the Idlewild par-
ty ] " '
" Yes, if you can find tis," she answered gayly.
" From all I can hear, I imagine we are going to
be a very erratic band of voyagers, and you, in
search of us, may go flying by some little harbor
where we are safely at anchor all the time."
" I think I shall be able to find you without
much difficulty," Philip returned with a smile.
"The coast of Maine will give us an extended field
for a game of hide-and-seek. You will not escape
me, unless you do it wilfully."
" I promise to ' play fair.' "
" Thank 3*011. Then I shall certainly find you
somewhere."
" ' Somewhere, somewhen, somehow,' as it says
in Water Babies,' " added Leigh, laughing. "De-
lightfully vague, is it not ? Good by, then, Mr.
Ogden. I wish you a charming time, and ever so
many fish at Manhegan. You must bring us
10
218 ONE SUMMER.
some stories from the rocky, wild old place. The
fishermen there ought to be wonderfully inter-
esting."
" I '11 try to pick up something worth repeating.
Every new idea I gain is of enormous value to me,
as my mind only dwells upon events which have
occurred since Gem's illness," Philip said, with a
curious smile. And, though the good-by was
spoken, he still lingered. " My previous history
is a blank."
" Perhaps it would be well for both of us to
bury a few weeks in oblivion," said Leigh, de-
murely. " I am sure when I view myself in certain
lights, I am not an edifying spectacle. It was all
very ridiculous, was it not ] But I 'm sorry ; and
Mr. Ogden," she went on, roguishly, " if it will
afford you any pleasure, you may break my poor
little umbrella into a thousand pieces, although
Tom did bring it to me from London, and my
affections still cling to it, in spite of its depravity.
And you may burn that foolish sketch-book, with
solemn and appropriate rites," she went on mer-
rily. " And can I give you satisfaction in any
other way 1 "
" You know perfectly well that you can," was
the low response.
Philip had not intended to urge his suit as
he bade her farewell for a few days. He had
contemplated a cool and unsentimental leave-tak-
ing, as a sort of sanitary measure, which would
benefit him in the end. He saw that Leigh was
not quite sure of herself, nor did he wonder at all
that she wanted time to think. He looked forward
ONE SUMMER. 219
with a firm, patient hope to the day when he
should gain her love. He felt in some way assured
that that day would surely come. If Leigh had
not had some little regard affection, it may be
for him, he reflected, with a wondering thank-
fulness, if it would be impossible for her to care
for him as he wished her to care, she would have
known it at once, and would have told him so in
frank womanly words. Their present intercourse,
which outwardly resembled the calm ease of a
long friendship, would have been impossible, had
he been an uncertain aspirant for higher honors.
Gem was still the connecting link, and there were
all the curious and familiar elements of life among
the Holbrooks, which made it, to a certain extent,
natural that they should sink back into the old
grooves ; yet beneath this surface life was the deep
undertone. She had given him encouragement,
and he was showing her plainly, that, so long as
she needed, she might rely upon his patience and
delicate consideration for her doubts. He under-
stood her far better than Leigh imagined. She
was not a girl who was in a chronic state of lis-
tening, breathless expectation of a proposal of mar-
riage from every eligible man she met. He had
watched her very closely. He had seen that she
would greet him with sweet, pleased eyes, when
he would join her, after an absence of some hours ;
yet he had also seen that her welcome, while it
evinced trust and sympathy, was too frank to lie
very far below the surface. He knew that his
little attentions, his constant care of her, she had
accepted all along, as she, with her honest, iuno-
220 ONE sumiEE.
cent heart, could not have done, had she not felt
a real liking for him ; yet it had been only a liking,
Philip saw. Why should it grow in one moment
into a great resistless love like his own. True
love is by turns humble and proud. Philip was in
the stages of humility. " Any sweet, good wo-
man is too good for the best man that walks the
earth," he said to himself. And why should this
rare Leigh, this priceless pearl of women, " so
purer than the purest," be his at once for the ask-
ing 1 ? He could wait, for he knew well its fail-
radiance was destined to shine into his life. Why,
then, with so dear and blessed a hope, should he
not be patient ? So he had reasoned ; yet, as
Leigh had looked up at him, and carelessly asked
if there was any other way in which she could give
him satisfaction, involuntarily he had answered
with his whole soul in his voice, and the tone and
word could not be recalled.
Leigh stood leaning against one of the pillars
which supported Miss Phipps's " antique portico,"
with the light from the hall streaming out upon
her face.
The usual group of four had been chatting out
in the porch, but Bessie had judiciously departed,
dragging away with her the reluctant Tom, and
calmly announcing a palpably improbable reason
for withdrawing.
Tom feelingly remonstrated,
" If you will persist in being general of this
army, Bessie, I wish you might become a more
profound tactician ; and I must protest against
wife of mine making such unblushingly menda-
ONE SUMMER. 221
cious assertions. That last was too painfully at-
tenuated, the very fibbiest of fibs."
" Torn," Bessie said, oracularly, "Mr. Ogden is
going away. Everything depends upon what is
done at this moment. Farewells are extremely
important."
" Why do you not write a book 1 ' Love-Making
Made Easy ' would attract attention, and I never,
in all my life, met anybody who knew quite so
much about it as you do."
" Who taught me, 1 'd like to know ! " was the
pert and pointed rejoinder.
" I 'm sure I can't imagine," retorted Tom, with
a reflective air. " Let me think. Barton, wasli't
it, or Nettleton, or Allen, or some other one of
those dandy fellows, who were always spinning
about you until I appeared," he went on with a
magnificent flourish, " and they vanished like dew
before the sun. Yet what I did in those old and
halcyon days, my beloved, I accomplished by my
own unaided genius. No one ever spread cotton-
wool in my path as you do in Ogden's," he mur-
mured plaintively. " And Leigh, too, it was
not ever thus. She was not once so brittle. Will
she really break if I touch her 1 "
" Tom, you know you are quite as much inter-
ested as I am, only you are too ridiculous to ac-
knowledge it."
" Interested ? Of course I am, only I don't want
to be harassed and hampered, and prevented from
showing my interest in my own peculiar and pleas-
ing method. A pretty way to evince interest it
is to rush off into the dining-room and close two
222 ONE SUMMER.
doors behind one, so one cannot possibly hear what
is going on. I want to hear, I tell you ! I want
to be on the spot. Why do you restrain me, you
cruel woman 1 I want to give Ogden an encour-
aging pat on the back, and charm Leigh with my
naivete and innocent prattle ! "
" Tom, do be quiet ! " said Bessie, stifling
with laughter. " You grow worse and worse. They
will certainly hear you."
" I wish they would. It might hurry up the
final tableau. Sweet thing ! " he exclaimed, rolling
his eyes. " Can't you see it, Bessie ? Ogdeu and
Leigh joining hands, just before the foot-lights, and
bowing gracefully to the audience. I, at stage
right, doing the heavy walking-gentleman to per-
fection, the tearful old paternal, the ' bless you,
my children ' style of thing, you know, while a
smile of righteous joy will play over my mobile
features, and
'How pleasant is Saturday night,
When we "ve tried all the week to be good,'
will emanate from my whole presence, and "
" That 's more than enough about you, you ego-
tistical, conceited creature ! Where will I be, if
you please, sir 1 "
" You 1 You will play watchful, protecting
spirit then, as you do now, my angel. You will
be ' the sweet little cherub that sits up aloft,' at
the extreme top of the stage left. You will
wear spangled tarlatan, a gilt-paper crown, and a
delicious smirk ; and your exquisite arms, to which
will be attached gorgeous pink calico wings, will
ONE SUMMER. 223
dreamily wave, and fling down benisous upon the
happy pair, while the supernumerary will burn
beautiful yellow and green light at the wings, and
the badly tuned violins will wail, and the curtain
will fall amid tumultuous applause."
" Tom, I do not think I can tolerate such a
scene as this even in joke, and from you. Who
ever heard of an angel in pink 1 "
"And should not the angel of love appear in
rose-color 1 "
" And yellow and green lights ! Your descrip-
tion is abominable, and highly improper, too, being
strangely suggestive of Black Crook transforma-
tion scenes."
While they talked thus after their usual fashion
in the dining-room, where Bessie had caged her
husband, out at the porch a conversation of dif-
ferent import was going on.
Philip had spoken again.
" You know perfectly well that you can," he
had said. "My life is in your hands."
Leigh's heart beat fast, and she nervously pulled
in pieces a honeysuckle-blossom, sacrificing the fra-
grant, unoffending flower in her troubled mood.
" Mr. Ogden, may I speak very frankly to you ?
I think there should be no disguise between us,
whatever may come, and I know you will not mis-
understand me ; and you will pardon me if what I
am about to say seems strange 1 "
" Do not hesitate to say anything you wish. I
cannot misunderstand."
" In all these days in which you have been so
good, and have given me time to think, it seems to
224 ONE SUMMER.
me I ought to feel sure of myself, and I am not,
Mr. Ogden. I am so sorry, but I feel troubled, full
of doubt."
" Why should you not feel so? It is no light
thing, I ask of you," Philip said gently. Then,
after a moment, " Could you tell me what espe-
cially makes you troubled ] "
" I would like to tell you if I can. I wish to
show you what is in my heart. It seems to me
the only way," she hesitated. Again the innocent
honeysuckle-vine suffered, as Leigh's unconscious
hands ruthlessly showered leaf and flower upon the
steps. Abruptly she began. " Mr. Ogden, it is so
different from my theories. All girls have theories,
you know. I cannot deny that I care for you
more than I ever cared for any one before," she
said slowly, and so low, that Philip scarcely heard
the words that were so dear to him. " Wait," she
went on, with a little imperious gesture, as Philip
eagerly began to speak, " wait. I care for you
more, but how can I be sure that I care for you
enough] How can I?" And the earnestness of
her voice deepened as she repeated her question,
and looked straight into the eyes of the man that
loved hei\ " You have been good to me. You
have cared for me constantly in little kind ways.
Mrs. Browning says, ' these things have their
weight with girls ' " ; and a faint smile trembled
about Leigh's lips. "I suppose she knew. You
have been with me weeks and weeks. I have
grown used to you, and now you tell me that
you love me ; and in return I give much regard,
a grateful affection perhaps, but is it love 1 It is
ONE SUMMER. 225
not like the love I have dreamed of ! " she ex-
claimed passionately.
Philip wondered if there were another woman in
the world so true as the one who stood before him, _
trying to let him read her very heart as if it were
an open book, and whose face and attitude and
voice, by sudden eloquent little changes each mo-
ment, seemed to reveal every phase of the feeling
which stirred her so deeply.
He did not speak, for he saw that she had more
to say to him.
" Let me speak more plainly." And she carefully
chose her words, and endeavored to be quite calm.
" Your presence makes me very happy. I think I
would like you to come very often to my sister's
home, yet I do not feel that for you I would, if
you asked me to-day, give up that home, and all
the pleasant things in my old life," Leigh went
on bravely, though she was evidently making a
mighty effort. " I have always believed no woman
ought to marry a man, if she feels she can under
any circumstances be happy without him. Am I
talking strangely 1 Forgive me. Do not be angry
with me. I do care very much for you, and I
should miss yon if you did not come to my home,
and I should think of you often at first, but after
a time I think I might be quite happy without
you." Then, with a tremulous voice, suggestive
of the deepest emotion, and also of a nervous
desire to laugh, she said, " A woman, if she really
loves a man, ought to be willing to go and live in
a log-cabin with him, out on the prairies, and I do
not love you enough for that. I know I do not.
10* o
226 ONE SUMMER.
Do not think me speaking lightly," she said plead-
ingly. " It is so hard to tell you exactly what I
mean, and I am so sad at heart. But when you
.offer me so royal a gift as your love, when you
place all that you have, and all that you are, at
my feet, I must, at least, give you absolute truth
in return. You see how I trust you. I am trying
to tell you every thought."
" I know that you trust me," Philip said, tak-
ing in his own her two trembling hands, and
holding them firmly, "and I believe that I can
teach you to love me. Leigh, you must love me a
little, or you could not let me hold these dear
hands in mine, nor touch them with my lips.
See, I kiss them over and over, and you do not
draw them away. Already you give me far more
than 1 deserve, and for the rest I can wait very,
very patiently."
Leigh was touched indescribably by the quiet
tenderness of his manner.
" But," she said, " is this right ] What if the
day comes when I look you in the face and say I
do not love you ] What would you think of me
then 1 "
" I should think what I think now, that your
true heart had revealed itself to me in all honor."
" But I ought to know ; it is weak to hesitate.
I cannot bear to think that I may be deceiving
you."
" You cannot deceive me. Let your heart be
quite at rest. Do not question yourself and be
troubled any longer, for, whatever comes, you will
not have deceived me for one moment. But, dear,
OXE SUMMER. 227
I think you will love me. Do you forgive me for
feeling so sure?"
"Mr. Ogdeu, will I seem foolish if I ask you,
how do I know but some day I may experience a
stronger, deeper love than that which I feel for
you 1 I have not seen everybody."
Philip smiled at her unconscious admission, and
at the utter simplicity of her manner.
" Dear, you will honor me beyond all the world,
if you will give me the happiness of assuming that
risk." Then he said, more gravelv, " I know well
that I am no hero. You will meet many a person
more like the ideal man you may have dreamed
of loving, but I love you with my whole soul,
Leigh."
" When you speak so, you place me in a different
atmosphere. It is as if I were quite promised to
you," Leigh said, in a pained, low voice. " I have
always been so decided in everything, and I have
felt so distressed in the last few days because of
my doubts. Love, real love, never hesitates so.
Are you sure that you understand 1 1 cannot feel
that I wish to lose you utterly ; yet, Mr. Ogden,
you are very far from being all the world to me.
Do you think you understand 1 "
" Everything, everything, and what you tell me
makes me profoundly happyj and I love you a
thousand times more for every noble word you
have said to-night. I have unspeakable faith in
your perfect truth towards me. Whatever you do
will be sweet and right."
" 1 shall feel differently now. You are so good'
it rests me."
228 ONE SUMMER.
" You have given me such happiness, such
blessed hope ! "
" Ah, but please do not be happy quite yet ! I
do not know."
" I know," said Philip, under his breath. " Will
you say good by to your sister and Tom for me ?
I want you all alone, just as you stand there, so
fair and sweet, with the lovely eyes looking up at
me, and telling me that you love me a little, for
the very last picture I take away in my heart
from here." And, bending again over the hands
he held so closely, he said, " I can be quite patient,
only trust me, dear." And in a moment his step
sounded rapidlv on the pavement, and Leigh was
alone. But not long was she left to her sweet
meditations. Out came Tom, careful! v guarded
by Bessie. His long-suppressed mischief, forbid-
den to express itself in words, found vent in pro-
longed, inquiring stares, and glances of commisera-
tion, and Bessie's most frantic efforts did not pre-
vent him from drawling out, in a supernaturally
solemn voice,
" Blest is the tie that b-i-n-d-s
Duni di do, di dum de,
The fellowship of kindred m-i-n-d-s,
Dum di do, di dum de,"
as he passed Leigh her candle, and gave her an
affectionate good-night.
ONE SUMMER. 229
CHAPTER XVIII.
' Whence came ye, jolly Satyrs ! Whence came ye,
So many, and so many, and such glee ? "
KEATS.
HAT amazing sounds ! " exclaimed Leigh,
as she, with Tom and Bessie, returning
from Gem's late one afternoon, rode
slowly along the winding wood-road.
" Are we coming npon sylvan deities at their
revels 1 " And they all peered curiously through
the trees.
The approaching sounds grew more distinct, and
Tom remarked, " Whatever they may be, they are
singing college-songs, with immense gusto ; and no
faun that ever capered could shout in Blake's
basso profundo, which greets me now, if my ears
do not deceive me."
He whipped up his horse in some excitement,
and a sudden turn in the road disclosed three
young men, walking arm in arm, smiling broadly
upon the universe, and melodiously chanting the
inspiring strains of Crambambuli, while one of
them vigorously beat time with a long leafy
branch. When he saw Tom, he wildly waved
his baton high in the air. and rushed forward.
Tom made a dashing leap over the wheel of the
old wagon, arid ejaculating, " That eye ! Those
nose ! 'T is he ! " ran to meet him, and the two
230 OXE SUMMER.
in a pathetic manner threw themselves into each
other's outstretched arms, while the long branch
gently and ridiculously swayed over their heads.
" Ladies, pardon our emotion," said Mr. Blake,
approaching the wagon, and receiving laughing
and cordial greetings from Bessie and Leigh,
" but we only arrived an hour ago. We were in
search of you. My joy at, beholding Tom's beloved
form was uncontrollable. Here 's Morton, whom
you know, but perhaps you did not know that he
is suspected of writing poetry ; and my young
brother, whom you used to kuow before he shot
up so marvellously. lufant, make your best bow
to the ladies. The gallant crew of the Idlewild is
reduced to these three gloomy and ancient mari-
ners, upon whom I beg you will take pity."
" You do look sad, Mr. Blake," said Leigh, " and
the voices of all of you gentlemen sounded full of
an untold woe as you crept so wearily down the
hill. Did you venture, may I ask, to come through
the village so 1 " And she looked smilingly at
young Blake.
" We did not sing till we got to the woods, and
Dick had no branch to flourish, and that, I suppose,
added to our imposing effect ; still we rather flatter
ourselves we made a sensation. We inarched arm
in arm straight from the yacht to your present
domicile, inquiring our way, of course. The in-
habitants rushed to the doors and windows, and
' the little dog laughed to see such sport ' "
" And here we are, suppliants before you," in-
terrupted his brother. " We have left all the good
comrades, with whom we started, at one place
ONE SUMMER. 231
after another on the coast. Can you join us to-
morrow, Mrs. Otis ] "
" 0, thanks, but to-morrow is so very soon ! "
" Have pity on Morton. He has to read his
odes to our dull ears."
" I 'm not conscious of having perpetrated an
ode since I 've been on the Idlewild," remarked
the latter gentleman ; " but the most prosaic in-
dividual, like our emaciated friend," putting
his hand on Mr. Blake's stalwart shoulder,
" might have a soul above mackerel, and immor-
talize himself in verse, if you ladies would only
grace the yacht with your presence."
" And Will here," went on Mr. Blake, " he 's
young. He writes the Log and makes our puns.
That is, he makes the most and the worst. We 've
tried to humor the child and laugh, but there has
been an awful gloom over the yacht of late, and
we can laugh no more. You ladies have kind
hearts. Will you not encourage the youth ] "
" If you will allow me to offer you some friendly
advice," said Bessie to Will, " I would suggest
that you resign your office of punster-in-chief be-
fore Mr. Otis goes on board. He will be a power-
ful rival. His puns, when he is much excited,
are the worst in the world. No one can possibly
surpass him."
Whereupon the boy responded, that if he were
forced to resign the only position in which he
could hope to distinguish himself, he should rely
upon the constant society of the ladies as a con-
solation ; which sentiment was warmly applauded
by his elders, and his brother encouragingly re-
marked,
232 OXE SUMMER.
" Bravo, Infant ! Never did better than that at
your age, myself."
So they chatted in the "merry green -wood," the
young men grouped about the wagon in which the
two ladies were enthroned. Eloquently did the
Blakes plead their cause. The trip they proposed
was to Mount Desert, and they promised, wind
and weather permitting, to bring the ladies home
within a week. Bessie's reluctance to leave baby
for such an age was overcome by Tom, who as-
serted himself manfully, and declared that the
nurse was a tower of strength, and that the small
atom of humanity would thrive equally well, in
the healthful country air, whether its mamma
presided each day over its sleeve-knots, or re-
signed that arduous toil for a week. And Leigh's
disinclination to leave Gem quite vet was met
with facetious remarks from Tom, and importu-
nate prayers from the other young men.
" Where is the boy ] Show him to me," said Mr.
Blake. " Be he alive or be he dead, I '11 take him
along with us, if he is the one impediment in Miss
Doane's path to the Idlewild.' 1
" I only wish you might take him," said Leigh.
" The dear child would be so happy to go ; but it
would not be safe. He only sits up an hour or
two each day."
"Blake, as you value your happiness, don't think
of taking him. He would be worse on board than
the man who shot the albatross. Miss Doane
makes a kind of fetich of him, and has imbued my
wife with the same idolatrous, superstitious folly.
I have succeeded thus far in preserving that sturdy
ONE SUMMER. 233
uprightness which my biographers will vie with
each other in praising ; and you, Harry, I know,
have sufficient manly independence to be proof
against any of their fatuous wiles; but Morton, as
everybody is aware, is uncommonly susceptible,
and Will is over-young, and we might see four
prostrate forms on the deck of the Idlewild, bend-
ing in blind adoration before that Holbrook- phe-
nomenon."
"He 's jealous, Mr. Blake," said Leigh. "Gem
is a charming child, and you shall -all see him, for
he is going home to make me a visit, and 1 do
not think I shall ever let him go away from me
again."
" Happy, thrice-happy Gem ! " said young Blake.
" But do not destroy my peace of mind by taking
him on the yacht. Miss Doane likes young people.
At present 1 am, at least, the youngest of the party.
Perhaps she will deign to notice me. If that Gein
appears, I shall be nowhere." And the Infant, a
long, lank youth of nineteen, whose tall form had
not had time as yet to " fill out," and whose face
was fresh in its coloring and bright with good- na-
ture and fun, tried to look disconsolate, and failed
signally. " I may not be a Gem, but why may I
not be somebody's own sweet Will 1 And won't
somebody help me with the Log? It 's an awful
bore ! Miss Leigh, you and I used to be good
friends in the mud-pie days."
" I will help 3*011, you poor, abused boy," said
Leigh, laughing ; " and if you will be good to Gem
next winter, for he and I are sworn friends, you
know, I will be very good to you on the yacht."
234 ONE SUMMER.
" heavens ! Hear that demented girl. ' Love
me, love my Gem,' is her one thought. I took a
peep at the boy myself, to-day, though I do not
usually encourage him by so much as a glance.
You should see him. Thiu ! thinner than the In-
fant here, and about a ttm-d as long. Ogden, who
used to be a man of sense, is gone daft on the sub-
ject, too, and he sent on somewhere for an easy-
chair, which is luxurious beyond description, and
the idol sits in it, with fruit and flowers and other
votive offerings till about, and the Arabian Nights
magnificently illustrated, and Robinson Crusoe, and
a pile of books as high as your head, on a table
that groans beneath their weight ; and I think I
detected Leigh burning incense the other day. Is
it not pitiable ? "
" But where is Ogdefl? Is he with the wonder-
ful boy 1 Where shall I find him 1 "
" Where the breaking waves dash high on the .
stern and rock-bound coast of Manhegan."
" And is he off there 1 ,1 depended upon him.
Frailty, thy name is Ogden ! "
" \ 'm glad of it ! " exclaimed Will, savagely.
" There are men enough on the yacht. We 've
had a surfeit of them ever since we started. /
can survive the absence of Mr. Ogden, and if you
want to go off, Mr. Morton, to ' some unsuspected
isle in far-off seas,' I '11 try to bear it. Tom, you
don't count, because you are married. It's no
matter about you." And the audacious Infant
smiled significantly and placidly at Leigh.
" I 'm like Miss Murdstone. ' Generally speak-
ing, I don't like boys ! ' " retorted Mr. Morton. " This
ONE SUMMER. 235
youth being the brother of my host, I have thus far
refrained from dropping into Davy Jones's locker,
but there are limits to my forbearance."
Meanwhile Tom and Mr. Blake were discussing
Philip's disappearance, and the probabilities of
finding him. Finally, when all the doubts of the
ladies had been met and silenced, and all the ar-
rangements for the trip perfected, the party went
on towards the village, with young Blake, however,
in the wagon with the ladies. Tom tramped along
with his friends. The woods resounded with
"Gaudeamus," and milkmaids in distant farm-
yards lifted their heads in wonder and affright
to listen to the echoes awakened by the classic
" Hey down derry,
We '11 drink ami be merry,
In spite of Mahdfcet's law."
236 OXE SUMMER.
CHAPTER XIX.
'Till there was none of them but fain would be
Set in the ship, nor cared one man to stay
On the green earth for one more idle day."
WILLIAM MORRIS.
' For Shadwell never deviates into sense."
DRYDES.
POX the deck of the Idle wild * sat the
Infant with a ponderous tome. Beside
him were Leigh holding his iukstand,
and Bessie aiding the important work of
writing the Log by her sympathy and valuable
suggestions. Thus irfpired, the young man wrote
as follows :
THURSDAY, August 30, 11 A. M.
Left Edgecomb at 9 1-2 A. M. Wind southwest, blow-
ing fresh. Barometer out of order. We have on board,
in addition to persons who have already received in
these pages more honorable mention than they deserve,
Mr. Tom Otis, Mrs. Otis, and Miss L. L. Doane.
* The author would express? her indebtedness to the verita-
ble Log of a veritable yacht Idlewild for certain items which
will readily be recognized by persons who have had or may have
the good fortune of sailing in that most charming of crafts, and
of being entertained by its courteous owners.
She will also remark, in this connection, that while Edge-
comb bears a slight resemblance to a pleasant old town in
Maine in respect of its scenery, there the resemblance ceases.
She therefore begs not to be accused of libel, and pleads with
Sairey Gamp,
" Which naming no names, no offence could be took." .
ONE SUMMER. 237
Mr. Tom Otis is the hero of twenty-nine pitched
battles. His bones are whitening on a dozen tented
plains, and the blood he has shed is of the best of
Virginia. Jovial, witty, and of a large and varied ex-
perience, the party is 'anticipating a vast amount of
entertainment from him as soon as he recovers from
the sea-sickness which he is momentarily expecting.
Mrs. Otis and Miss Doane being at the present" mo-
ment seated on deck with the historiographer of this
cruise, and looking over his shoulder as he writes, he
naturally feels the blush of ingenuous youth mounting
1o his brow, and shrinks from the presumption of re-
ducing to cold, dull words the sentiments which their
dazzling beauty and indescribable charm of manner
produce in his mind. Not wielding the pen of a
Jenkins, he does not know how to describe their cos-
tumes. He can, however, testify that he has just seen
Mrs. Otis take from her travelling-bag a small cube of
some mysterious white substaM:e. The historiographer
in trepidation ventured to inquire its name and use.
The reply was, " Why child, it J s only magnesia. We
expect to see friends at Mount Desert, and we have
not the faintest idea of looking like frights if we
can help it." AVhereupon these lovely ladies calmty
cover their fair faces with a chalky mask, bestowing
a double amount of care upon the tips of their deli-
cate noses, where, they remark, " sunburn is so ex-
tremely unbecoming." The historiographer, lost in
wonder, awaits further revelations from these mar-
vellous beings.
2 P. M.
The day is delightful. Passed the Narrows at 11.45,
the Ledges at 12.10, and the Indian at 12.30. Saluted
him, and dipped our colors, the pilot informing us it
is customary to do the venerable old fellow that honor.
His outlines in the rock are faint and shadowy. He
looks forlorn, and as if he had bettor depart at once for
238 OXE SUMMER.
the land of the setting sun in search of his brethren.
Without wishing to destroy illusions cherished by
persons who go down to the sea in ships, sailing upon
this beautiful river, and who fondly believe in the
Indian, we, Miss Doane and the Infant, do not hesitate
to affirm, that we can discover very little Indian indeed
in the ledge where his historic form is supposed to be
imbedded ; furthermore, we boldly state that the eye
of faith is required to see any Indian at all ; that he
might as well be called the cat, or the goose, or the
porcupine ; that we have no respect for him whatever;
and if the owner of the yacht persists in giving him a
salute on our return, we shall manifest our disapproval
by standing in silent dignity, with our backs turned to
that aboriginal object, and our eyes fastened upon the
opposite shore.
Not wishing to lose a moment of this glorious air
and scenery, we luncjied at 1.30. on deck.
Made Hendrick's Hea(tf Light ' at 2.30, and anchored
in Cape Xewaggen Harror at 3.45. Tried fishing for
a while before dinner, which was served at 5 P. M.
Sun shining clearly ; air warm. Whole party a little
fatigued with hauling up their lines to look at the
bait.
The scene on deck during the evening was picturesque
in the extreme. The ladies, half reclining upon huge
piles of cushions, fell into a dangerously sentimental
mood. They dreamily remarked upon the beauty of
the quiet little harbor, and the pretty outline of the
shore. They were heard to express a lervent desire to
" Eat the lotus of the Nile,
And drink the poppies of Cathay."
Mr. Otis informed them that there was not a lotus
or a poppy on board, and appealed to Blake, Senior, for
corroboration, which was heartily given, the latter
gentleman remarking he would' have ordered some
ONE SUMMER. 239
down with the last supplies, if he M known the ladies
would wish that sort of thing. He volunteered to
send the steward in the small boat to the nearest place
on the coast where there was a druggist, for some mor-
phine, which did not sound as euphonious as " the
poppies of Cathay," but he presumed it would answer
the .same purpose. The ladies objected to the flippant
style of conversation in which these two world-hardened
men indulged, and begged them to drink in the quiet
loveliness of the night, or at least to assume a virtue,
if they had it not, and be silent ; and soon nothing
was heard but the occasional breaking of the waves
on the great rocks that lined the harbor's entrance.
Inspired by the perfections of the night and the beau-
tiful Miss Doane, challenged by that wretched pair,
Otis and Blake, Senior, and strongly urged to prove his
Ewers by the ladies and the Infant, Mr. Richard
arton distinguished himself by. the following
" IMPROMPTU.
" the sea, the beautiful sea!
The earth and the sky are as nothing to me.
Only the rise and the fall of the. tide
Seem fittest to speak of with thee by my side.
For when thou dost smile, my hope like the flow
Of the incoming tide ever onward doth go ;
But when for the smile you give me a frown,
Like the outgoing tide my hope floweth down
Then smile, and not frown, and close by my side
Let's float on the waves of the inflowing tide."
The historiographer does not know whether this is or
is not a very superior article, but inserts it in the Log
to help fill up, and because it is the best thing of the
sort that can be produced at present upon the Idlewild,
no man on board but Morton knowing how to mount
any kind of a Pegasus. The historiographer privately
suspects that Mr. Morton's ' winged steed ' can't fly, and
240 OXE SUMMER.
that he is a gaunt, raw-boned nag, a sort of Rosi-
nante,
The impromptu was received with great favor by
the ladies, who declared that the beauty of it was, that
Mr. Murton did not mean a word he said ; in return
they recited some charming poems. The writer of this
chronicle, though young and inexperienced, as has been
previously remarked, could but observe the striking
earnestness with which Miss Laura Leigh Doane re-
peated, " Tides," a very tender and sweet love-poem by
" H. H." ; and the intense feeling which she threw into
the closing words, " Love has a tide ! " almost made the
innocent youth's hair stand on end with amazement.
He happens to know that Miss Doane has been making
the journey of life but two short months longer than
himself, and he wonders how it is that she seems to
have gotten such leagues in advance. He was about to
propound this question in all sincerity, when a voice
disturbed the hush that followed the poem.
" Leigh, that was very touching, very touching indeed.
Harry and I wept to hear you go on in that style, but
you were looking in exactly the wrong direction. Man-
hegan is over this way.''
The meaning of which pleasantry, though half hid-
den, Morton and the historiographer dimly guess at,
and long to sink the wretched isle and all whom it
shelters beneath the waves of the Atlantic.
It is the painful duty of the Infant, as an honest
chronicler of this cruise, to state that his brother, to
whom he was wont to look for admonition, counsel, and
example, and Mr. Tom Otis, a man for whom he has
ever cherished the most profound veneration, did unite,
deliberately, wickedly, and maliciously, to destroy the
glamour of poetry and sentiment which all things else
conspired to throw over the minds of the other mem-
bers of the party. Morton and the historiographer were
prepared to follow blindly where the ladies would lead,
and they, though perfectly aware that they were safely
ONE SUMMER. 241
anchored in the snug little harbor of Cape Newaggen,
did not hesitate, as they listened to the ripple of the
water against the yacht, to give utterance to vague and
delicious fancies about "drifting along with the stream,"
and gondolas, and Venice, and " the magic of the sea " ;
and they recited many poems, and sung sweet songs in
a way that was bewitching in the extreme to their two
devoted slaves, but which led to deplorable results.
The historiographer blushes to recall the scene that fol-
lowed, and the heartless Vandalism of Messrs. Otis and
Blake. They retired to the bow and held a whispered
consultation, then returned, and Mr. Otis in a grave and
dignified manner remarked that he was aware that they
had not seemed entirely in sympathy with their sur-
roundings, or with the refined and elevated sentiments
of the rest of the party ; that it was not, however, al-
ways best to judge from appearances ; that their hearts
were in reality profoundly moved, and in evidence of
their sincerity they would beg to be allowed to con-
tribute to the general happiness by reciting some
poetry.
Here Mr. Blake remarked that he and Mr. Otis had
most carefully observed the character of the poems
quoted by the ladies, by their gifted friend Morton,
and by the yoiVhg and promising Infant,, and that they
would not presume to introduce any inharmonious
subjects. They would only venture to repeat lines
relating to the fathomless sea, or suggestive of longings
after the unattainable, the might- have-been, the never-
more.
Whereupon he formally stated that he now had the
honor of presenting to the intelligent audience before
him the popular reader and elocutionist, Mr. Tom Otis.
Mr. Otis gracefully bowed, and remarked that the
title of the poem he was about to recite being sunk
in oblivion, he would venture to call it, for reasons
that no doubt a part of his audience would fully appre-
ciate,
11 p
242 ONE SUMMER.
"A LEGEND OF MAXHEGAN."
In a voice and manner that beggar description he
began as follows :
" Poor Jonathan Snow
Away did go,
All ou the ragin' mane,
With other males,
For to ketch whales,
An' ne'er come back agane.
"The winds Woo hi,
The billers tost,
All hands was lost ;
An' he was one,
A spritely lad
Ni twenty-one."
Mr. Blake, when the excitement produced by his
friend's recitation had died away, stated that it would
be impossible to equal the pure pathos and
description of the fury of the elements, which he ob-
served had electrified the listeners in the choice of Mr.
Otis. Jonathan was a unique production, and stood
alone upon the heights of literature. [Cries of Hear !
Hear ! from Mr. Otis, and groans from the ladies.]
But the great heart of humanity can be touched in
many ways. From the tender Folk Songs of a simple
people, he would select some verses by an unnkown
poet, verses which contrasted strongly with the in-
spired vigor of the immortal Jonathan, but which in
calm simplicity of diction, sweet regret, and patient
sadness of theme were also unequalled.
"A DREAM.
' I had a dream ;
I dreamed I was alone,
Alone !
And oh ! it was so sad
Away from home,
From home !
ONE SUMMER. 243
" Upon the sand
My eyes I bent,
I bent !
Upon my hand
My head I leant,
I leant !
" I thought of days
Gone by aud things,
And things !
And simple
Childish joys and strings,
And strings ! "
The ladies rose in disgust, and went below, declaring
that men who ruin even the moonlight by such " hor-
rid hideous notes of woe" ought to have weights and
" things, and things," tied to their necks, and be
dropped into the sea.
It is suspected that the effect produced by these two
designing villains was precisely what they had planned,
the hour being 12 p. M., at which time dull, prosaic
souls are apt to get sleepy. So ended the memorable
evening at Cape Newaggen.
244 ONE SUMMER.
CHAPTER XX.
' End things must, end howsoe'er things may."
BROWNING.
FRIDAY, August 31.
JEAUTIFUL weather. Left Cape Newaggen
at 9 A. M., and went out to a fishing-
ground for cod. The ladies appeared fresh
and bright at breakfast, and Mrs. Otis enliv-
ened the party by making the astounding discovery
that we have on board the world-renowned, graceless
trio, Torn, Dick, and Harry, associating intimately with
an " L. L. D."
11 A. M.
Morton has just caugbt a forty-five-pound cod, and
is in a gloriously exultant state. He suggests that we
unite in singing, as a morning hyuiu, the exquisite
lines of Watts,
" Up from the deep
Ye codlins, creep,
And wag your tails about."
Passed Manhegan at 12 M. White Head at 2.05
P. M., and anchored in Owl's Head Harbor at 3.30 p. M.,
having had tine weather and a most agreeable sail.
Oft' Manhegan an animated discussion was held. Mr.
Philip Ogden who, as he might have been on the
Idlewild, and is not, is supposed to be laboring under
a temporary aberration of mind, wandering about
among the benighted peasantry of that island was the
subject of the debate. The question was finally voted
upon : Shall the Idlewild put into Manhegan, and shall
its dauntless crew seize the recreant Ogden vi et armi-s . ;
ONE SUMMER. 945
Ayes, - - Otis and Blake, Senior.
Noes (loud and deep), the ladies, Morton, and
Blake, Junior.
The Noes were triumphant, and Manhegan Light left
in the distance.
During the afternoon of this day, fired by an un-
holy desire to wage war upon the finny denizens of the
deep, and too finical to remove the article from his fin-
ger, to which it had an affinity, Mr. Tom Otis, in detach-
ing a sculpin a fish to which he was exceedingly par-
tial from his hook, threw into the raging sea a ring
of considerable intrinsic and incalculable sentimental
value. For further particulars inquire of Mrs. Otis.
He desires it to be distinctly understood, that he did
not thereby wed the billows of Owl's Head Harbor.
They were not the Adriatic, and he was not a Dog[e]
that he should do this thing. It is suggested that,
backed by the authority of the Arabian Nights, he shall
offer a vast reward for the ring, and publicly give notice
that all cooks, stewards, and seafaring men shall here-
after exercise the utmost care in cleansing fish, lest
they lose the opportunity of finding that one which
wears now a precious jewel in his head.
Coming up on deck after dinner, a sudden silence
fell upon our merry party, even Otis and Blake, Senior,
being subdued by the magnificence of the sunset.
The Camden Hills to the northwest, Ragged Moun-
tain and Megunticook, cold and in shadow, stood out
in bold contrast against the brilliant, warm sky. Si-
lently we watched the golden glory deepen, and the
wonderful rosy light that followed, and shone on the
gleaming white sails of twenty or thirty little coasters
lying at anchor around us, and that crept higher and
higher, until its radiance was reflected in the water be-
low, and the whole landscape was glorified. The last
rays fell upon the bluff on which the lighthouse stands,
and while the afterglow still lingered with its fiery opal
246 ONE SUMMER.
hues gradually fading away in deep violet clouds, we
took a short sail out of the harbor, passing between
numerous little rocky islands and reefs, gray-looking
and cold, with the foam rising high around them, and
miles in the distance was a huge fog-bank which seemed
to he rolling in finely, but which did not once overtake
us.
SATURDAY, September 1.
From Owl's Head to Eggenioggm Reach. Under
weigh at 7 A. n., having secured the services of a new
pilot, an ancient mariner remarkable for his misfor-
tunes by sea and by land. According to his own
account, he had been" wrecked on nearly every rock,
cape, island and sand-bar from Cape Sable to the
Florida Keys, and he certainly ought to know all the
perils of our cruise. While sailing slowly up Penob-
scot Bay, with light breezes and fine weather, this
old Jonah entertained us with an account of his experi-
ence in the law. He seems to have been always at
law, and in fact had a case coming on when he joined
us, and was in a continual fright lest he should not be at
home in season for it. As he always got ashore in his
voyages, so he was always swindled in his Ijargains,
and seems usually to have gotten the worst of his law-
suits. The effect upon his mind was unfortunate. He
entertained a special dislike for the legal profession,
besides being generally misanthropic. His anathemas
against lawyers met with the strongest encouragement
and sympathy from those brethren in the law, and in
all manner of mischief. Messrs. Otis and Blake, Senior.
Under his guidance we were lazily wafted up Penob-
scot Bay, with light northerly winds. Sailed through
the Thoroughfare, and saw the great white dome of -the
Isle au Haut, eight or ten miles to the southeast as \\e.
came up by North Haven towards Eagle Island Light,
which, by the way, had the honor of gaining expres-
sions of unqualified admiration from Miss Doane, and
ONE SUMMER. 247
it will probably, on that account, hold its haughty head
higher than ever above the waves.
A number of the islands were extremely pretty, as
we sailed up the bay. We made Pumpkin island Light
at about half an hour before sunset, and anchored close
under Little Deer Island, in Eggemoggin Reach. Miss
Doane takes exceptions to the name of Pumpkin Isl-
and. Mrs. Otis also denounces it bitterly. They say
that all the names have been pretty, Newaggen, Man-
hegan, Owl's Head, and Isle au Haut, and they al.-:o
graciously approve of even Eggemoggin, Indian names,
however unpronounceable, being always charming ; but
no words can express their contempt and loathing for
poor Pumpkin Island. Mr. Otis remarked that he pre-
sumed Asphodel Lighthouse or Fringed Gentian Islet
would be more likely to find favor with the sickly,
morbid fancy of certain persons he could mention, but
that for his part he admired Pumpkin Island hugely.
It was a good substantial, sensible, honest name, and
patriotic, moreover, as it commemorated the national
dish of New England, pumpkin-pie, and he wished
he had some.
The Infant records this speech, not because he regards
it as in the least amusing or instructive, but merely as
an illustration of the heartless, he mignt say sinister
style of comment in which Mr. Otis and Mr. Harry
Blake have taken incredible delight during the whole
voyage.
SUNDAY, September 2.
Passed a quiet day at anchor here, not because we
were afraid we would be drowned and made into a
tract to frighten small boys if we should continue our
course on Sunday, but because the ladies say the Reach
is too lovely to leave. It is like a great, calm, broad
river, and the mainland opposite us has a well-cul-
tivated look, and the soft green of the turf and foliage
is pleasant to look upon.
248 ONE SUMMER.
Those ungodly men, Otis and Blake, Senior, took the
small boat and went off to the ledge with guns. They
returned with three coots, and were not recognized by
the respectable members of the party. We sent them
to Coventry for the remainder of the day.
MONDAY, September 3.
Know all men by these presents, that I, being duly
sworn, do testify, that, in the judgment of the whole
company on board the Idlewild, Monday, the third day
of September, 18 , Mr. Tom Otis did then and there
eat, beside the regular courses, at dinner, of soup, meats,
and vegetables,
Fifteen olives,
One box of sardines,
Eight sandwiches,
Two cocoanut-pies,
Five loaves of cake,
A bottle of chow-chow, and
Seven cups of coffee ;
and for so doing was awarded the first prize, having
distanced all competitors.
(Signed) CHARLES WILLIAM BLAKE.
Witnesses :
BESSIE D. OTIS.
LAURA LEIGH DOAXE.
RICHARD HEXRY MORTON.
Blake, Senior, being host, feels that courtesy forbids
him to testily.
Passed out of Eggemoggin Reach, the fertile look of
the country vanishing, and the bleak, wild, out-at-sea
aspect increasing more and more as we left the large
Deer Isle and sailed among numerous white, ledgy
islands, and soon approached the promontory of Bass
ONE SUMMER. 249
Head, the southern point of Mount Desert. We sailed
past it, into Southwest Harbor for the superb view, and
saw the Mount Desert hills rising grandly before us,
while Some's Sound, that wonderfully pretty sheet of
water, its calm clear blue contrasting with the " tumul-
tuous sea" outside, " the rough green plain that no
man reaps," ran, straight and narrow, far into the
island between bold, high cliffs, like a Norwegian fiord,
we who have never seen a fiord confidently assert
Passed between the Cranberry Islands and Bear Isl-
and Light.
Made Bar Harbor at 5 P. M., and were speedily vis-
ited by troops of friends. The historiographer would
gracefully excuse himself from a description of the
magnificent scenery of Mount Desert. For information
which he has the discretion to omit, he would refer
future perusers of this Log to artists know r n to fame
and many authors of repute.
He is aware that he has omitted to mention various
points of interest along this attractive Maine coast, and
he would say, in apology, that but nineteen summers
have passed over his head,- and that he has been too
much interested in playing piquet with Miss Doane,
to tear himself away from that charming amusement
and devote himself to the dreary labor of making nau-
tical and geographical observations.
The voyage has been all sunshine and gladness.
1 We did not design to exhibit the swiftness of our
craft, as the sailing powers of the Idlewild have long
since been proven, but have wished merely to sail
here and there at the will of our fair passengers. That
our return voyage may be as happy, is our devout
hope.
In conclusion, it may be well to mention that there
has been an entire immunity from sea-sickness, although
Mr. Richard Morton dined one day upon deck, making
an entire repast upon one lemon.
The Idlewild party is now strolling about on the
250 ONE SUMMER.
rocks in a state of perfect bliss, all except the poor his-
toriographer, whom an inhuman brother has left behind
to complete the Log, and do the honors of the yacht to
such visitors as may appear.
The Idlewild people were received with great
rejoicing by numerous friends at Bar Harbor, and
it occurred to one hospitable soul to give a picnic
of gigantic proportions in their honor. The guests,
sixty in number, were bidden to the feast at seven
o'clock, and shortly after that hour the bluff over
Anemone Cave was the scene of much hilarity, as
gay groups of friends ate sandwiches, drank cof-
fee, and gossiped, with the grand old ocean rolling
in solemnly below them.
" Leigh," whispered Tom, " don't drop your
muffin on the buttered side, or pour your coffee
down your sleeve in your agitation, but Ogden
came over to Southwest Harbor yesterday, and
he arrived here to-day, and he 's about five feet off,
just behind you, and he 's coming this way as fast
sis he can, but somebody an uncommonly attrac-
tive young lady, by the way has just buttonholed
him. I did not tell you all at once, for fear you
could not bear it."
In a moment Philip approached, and saw Leigh's
"Sweet face in the sunset light
Upraised and glorified."
And though the " madding crowd " was there and
the senseless chatter, and the commonplace bread
and butter and pickles, the inexpressible gladness
in her eyes, as she turned and looked up at him,
told him that his brief absence had been a saga-
11*
ONE SUMMER. 251
cious thing, and that the pearl was his own. He
wondered if the voluble young lady on the other
side of him ever would cease urging him to par-
take of the salad over which she presided, and if
picnics at Bar Harbor went on forever. The two
talked nonsense with the others, and ate they
knew not what.
At last the darkness deepened. The moon rose
superbly over the sea, and everybody climbed
down the rocks to the shore to see what wonders
were going on in the Cave.
Into its mysterious depths two gentlemen had
vanished. Presently its recesses were illumined
by a gleaming red light which disclosed its little
shining pools of water, and its rough jagged sides,
and shone out upon the groups of ladies and at-
tendant cavaliers at different heights on the cliff,
and met the moonlight far out on the waves with
a singular effect. A yellow light followed, and a
ghastly green, and then these wizards of Anemone
Cave sent off some rockets, and various other
whizzing things.
" I do feel really disappointed," exclaimed Bes-
sie. " I always had a profound respect for a rocket.
I thought it quite a magnificent spectacle ; but
does n't it seem small, and mean, and insignificant,
and frightfully impertinent, for it to go buzzing
away at the old ocean 1" Receiving no reply from
Philip and Leigh, to whom her remark was ad-
dressed, the kindly disposed little woman went on,
" dear, dear ! I actually believe there is my Tom
flirting with Miss McArthur. She's entirely too
pretty, and she knows how ! Where is Mr. Mor-
252 ONE SUMMER.
ton 1 Mr. Morton, would you be so kind as
to take ine round to the other side of the cliff'?
There 's something going on there which I must
put a stop to at once. Would you believe it 1 that
incorrigible husband of mine
She vanished, and Leigh and Philip wandered
away over the rocks.
An hour later they sat together, caring little
for the vast cliffs towering above them, or for the
foaming surf at their feet. They saw but the
gladness in each other's eyes. Their own mur-
murs spoke a mightier language in their ears than
the voice of the great waves. Yet they sought in
vain to express the meaning that overcharged their
hearts, for
" Love's tenderest, truest secret lingers,
Ever in its depths untold,"
and its sweetest words are only
" Like sighings of illimitable forests
Aud waves of an unfathomable sea."
" And are you glad to see me, dear 1 And are
you quite ' sure of yourself now 1 And is it like
your ' theories ' ? "
" I was very, very glad, but I think you took
an unfair advantage in surprising me, and some
day I will have my revenge."
" And will you go out on the prairies and live
in a log-cabin with me, if ever I ask you ] Will
you, Leigh?"
" No, sir, never, if you persist in remembering
all the idle words I ever said, and wickedly repeat-
ing them to me."
ONE SUMMER. 253
" But would you, Leigh 1 " he persisted.
" I am really disappointed in you already. I
never dreamed you would develop into a tease
like Tom. Do you know, I 've read that success
ruins some natures 1 "
" But would you 1 "
She hesitated ; then, " I will go to the very
end of the world with you one day if you should
wish," she said in low, earnest tones. " Why do
you make me tell you ? You know so well."
"Forgive me Leigh ; it is so sweet to hear you
say it, how could I help asking? But, dear, if
ever I ask you to live in a log-cabin, it shall be
only for a couple of months in the summer. And
the cabin shall be as pretty as you please, and it
must be at Edgecomb somewhere. How would
our island do, just where the old fort is 1 "
" And it must be called ' The Gem,' " said Leigh,
amused. Then, realizing that this was indeed
giving to remote shadowy things a " local habita-
tion and a name," she sprung up with a sweet shy-
ness in her face.
" Shall we not find Bessie now 1 "
Suddenly she stepped back to Philip. The
moon shone gloriously on the water, and threw its
white radiance over the girl as she said impul-
sively,
" Please sit down, just where you were. There
is something I must do. Close your eyes," she
commanded. Philip obeyed. Half tenderly, half
laughingly, she murmured, " This is reparation."
And he felt the light, timid touch of her lips on
either closed eyelid. " I am so sorry, I was so
254
ONE SUMMER.
sorry then, I have been sorry all the time," she
murmured. " How cruel I was ! "
And Philip, with his great happiness sounding
in his voice, yet with the same lightness of man-
ner which Leigh had assumed, to cover a strange
depth of emotion, said,
" That memorable blow did close my eyes for a
time, it is true, but only to open them to new and
wonderful radiance. My whole life shall show you
my gratitude for it. Think to what honor it has
raised me. My darling, my queen, it was my
royal accolade."