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CORNELL 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 LIBRARY 
 
 FROM 
 
 and 
 Mr s.J.H. Tanner 
 
Cornell University Library 
 PS 3535.I1595U5 1916 
 
 Under the country sky.,./ 
 
 3 1924 021 668 649 
 
The original of tliis book is in 
 tine Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924021668649 
 
"'Come, George — j^ou need a good tramp,' Stuart urged at 
 Teannette's elbow" 
 
Under the 
 Country Sky 
 
 By GRACE S. RICHMOND 
 
 Author op 
 
 'Red Pepper Bums," "Mrs. Red Pepper," 
 
 "The Twenty-Fourth of June," 
 
 "The Second Violin," Etc. 
 
 A. L. BURT COMPANY ^ 
 Publishers New York 
 
 Published by Arrangements with Doublbday, Paob and Compart 
 
Coi>YRIGHT, 1916, BY 
 
 DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY 
 ALL EIGHTS ItliSiatVfilJ 
 
 PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES 
 
 AT 
 
 THE COUNTRY LIFE FRESBj GARDEN CITY. N. T. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAFTBR PAGl 
 
 I. Heart Burnings i . 3 
 
 II. Something Really Happens , . . 15 
 
 III. A Semi-Annual Occurrence. ... 31 
 
 IV. A Literary Light 39 
 
 V. Sbabbiness 50 
 
 VI. When Royalty Comes 60 
 
 VII. Snowballs 71 
 
 Vm. Soapsuds 84 
 
 IX. A Reasonable Proposition .... 96 
 
 X. Stuart Objects 105 
 
 XL Borrowed Plumes 119 
 
 XII. Early Morning 135 
 
 XIII. A Copyist 143 
 
 XIV. Out of the Blue 153 
 
 XV. "Great Luck!" 164 
 
 XVI. A Little Trunk 176 
 
 V 
 
vi CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER. PAGB 
 
 XVII. Reaction 187 
 
 XVIII. "Steady On!" . . ' . ... 199 
 
 XIX. Revelations 212 
 
 XX. Five Minutes 228 
 
 XXL Messages 236 
 
 XXII. Toasts 248 
 
 XXIII. Why Not? '259 
 
 XXIV. Magic Gold 270 
 
 XXV. Great Music ....... 283 
 
 XXVI. Salt Water ^. .295 
 
 XXVII. "Cakes and Ices" 31O 
 
 XXVIII. A Tanned Hercules 323 
 
 XXIX. Milestones . 332 
 
 XXX. Questions and Answers. . . . 342 
 
CHAPTER I 
 
 HEART BURNINGS 
 
 SHE did not want to hate the girls; indeed, since 
 she loved them all, it would go particularly hard 
 with her if she had to hate them; love turned to hate 
 is such a virulent product! But, certainly, she had 
 never found it so hard to be patient with them. 
 
 They were all five her college classmates, of only 
 last year's class, and it was dear and kind of them to 
 drive out here into the country to see her, coming in 
 Phyllis Porter's great family Hmousine, the prettiest, 
 jolliest little "crowd" imaginable. They had been 
 thoughtful enough to warn her that they were coming, 
 too, so that she could set the old manse living-room 
 in its pleasantest order, build a crackling apple-wood 
 fire in the fireplace, and get out her best thin china 
 and silver with which to serve afternoon tea — she 
 made it chocolate, with vivid recollection of their 
 tastes; and added deliciously substantial though 
 delicate sandwiches, with plenty of the fruitiest and 
 nuttiest kinds of little cakes. She had donned the 
 one real afternoon frock she possessed, a clever 
 make-over out of nothing in particular. Altogether, 
 
 3 
 
4 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 when she greeted her guests, as they ran, fur-clad and 
 silk-stockinged after the manner of their kind, into 
 her welcoming arms, she had seemed to them ab- 
 solutely the old Georgiana. 
 
 They had brought her a wonderful box of red 
 roses — and Phyllis had caught her kissing one of the 
 great, silky buds as she put it with the rest in a bowl. 
 "I don't belieVe she's seen a hothouse rose since she 
 left college," thought Phyllis, with a stab of pity ai; 
 her tender heart. But for the first hour of their staj 
 Georgiana had been her gay and brilliant self, 
 flinging quips and jests broadcast, asking impertinent 
 questions, making saucy comments, quite as of old. 
 It was only when Dot Manning, toward the end of 
 the visit, began a sober tale of the misfortunes which 
 had come thronging into the life of one of their clasS' 
 mates, that Georgiana's face, sobering into sympa. 
 thetic gravity, betrayed to her companions a curiou.i 
 change which had come upon it since they saw it last, 
 
 Meanwhile, in answer to her questioning, they had 
 told her all about themselves. Phyllis Porter and 
 Celia Winters were having a glorious season in 
 society. Theo Grossman was deep in settlement 
 work — "crazy over it" was, of course, the phrase. 
 Dot Manning was going abroad next week for a 
 year of travel in all sorts of beguiling, out-of-the- 
 way places. As for Madge Sylvester, who was get- 
 ting ready to be married after Easter, the first of the 
 
HEART BURNINGS $ 
 
 class, she sat mostly in a dreamy, smiling silence, 
 looking into the fire while the others talked. 
 
 No, Georgiana did not want to hate the girls, but 
 before their stay was over she found herself coming 
 dangerously near it — temporarily, at least. They 
 were dears, of course, but they were so content with 
 themselves and so pitiful of her. Not, of course, that 
 they meant to let her see this, but it showed in spite 
 of them. They wanted to know what she did with 
 lierself, whether there were any young people, and 
 smy good times going on — Georgiana led them to the 
 livindow, just at this point, and pointed out to them a 
 lagorous young man striding by in ulster and soft 
 hat, who looked up and waved as he passed, showing 
 (me of those fine and manly young faces, glowing 
 vvith health and hopefulness, which always challenge 
 interest from girlhood. 
 
 "Oh, have you many like that?" Celia had asked, 
 and when Georgiana had owned that James Stuart 
 was the only one precisely "like that," Dot had in- 
 quired if Mr. Stuart belonged to Georgiana, and, 
 being answered in the negative, shook her head and 
 sighed: "One swallow may make a summer, Jan, 
 but I doubt it!" 
 
 Theodora Grossman, the settlement worker, in- 
 quired particularly whether Georgiana were doing 
 anything worth while, using that pregnant modern 
 phrase which has been decidedly overworked, yet 
 
6 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 which hardly can be spared from the present-day 
 vocabulary. 
 
 "Worth while!" cried Georgiana, flashing into 
 flame in an instant in the way they knew so well. 
 "Worth while — yes! You haven't seen my father, 
 have you, ever? It's a pity this happens to be one of 
 his bad, spine-achey days, for he'd be a good and 
 sufiicient answer to that question. Father Davy is 
 one of the Lord's own saints on earth, and he pos- 
 sesses a magnificent sense of humour, which not 
 all saints do, you know. To love him is a liberal 
 education, and to take care of him is better 'worth 
 while' than to have any number of fingers in other 
 people's pies." 
 
 "Of course, dear," Theo had answered soothingly. 
 " W^e know there's nothing in the world so well worth 
 while as looking after one's father and mother. Your 
 mother died long ago, didn't she, dear? And your 
 father would be dreadfully lonely without you. At 
 the same time, it doesn't seem as if he could absorb 
 all your energies. You remember the splendid things 
 Professor Nichols used to say about the duty of the 
 college girl, after college, particularly in a small 
 town? I suppose you have no foreigners here, but I 
 thought perhaps you might find quite a wonderful 
 field for your endeavour in stimulating the women of 
 the place into clubs for study and work. It's " 
 
 A curious exclamation from her hostess caused 
 
HEART BURNINGS 7 
 
 Miss Grossman to pause. In fact, they all stared 
 wonderingly at Georgiana. She stood upon the 
 hearthrug, her colour, usually ready to glow in her 
 dusky face, now receding suggestively, her dark eyes 
 sparkling dangerously. "The only trouble with that 
 sort of thing," she answered with suspicious quiet- 
 ness, "or rather the two troubles with it are these: 
 In the'first place, the women have pretty nearly a club 
 apiece already, which suits them much better than 
 anything I could 'stimulate' them to; and, in the 
 second place, I have 'quite a wonderful field for my 
 endeavour,' as you call it, Theo — did you crib that 
 phrase ? — in the upper regions of my own home. I— 
 in fact, I may be said to belong to the I. W. W.; I'm 
 one of the industrial workers of the world ! " 
 
 "Jan, you haven't gone into anything crazy " 
 
 Dot was beginning, when Georgiana, obeying an im- 
 pulse, walked away from her hearthrug toward the 
 door, beckoning her guests to follow. 
 
 "Come on," she invited. "Since you have so poor 
 an opinion of the possibilities for serious labour in a 
 world of woe offered by my residence in a small coun- 
 try village, you may come and see for yourselves." 
 
 They came after her, with a rustle and flutter of 
 frocks and a patter of smartly shod feet, up the old 
 spindle-railed staircase, through a chilly and unfur- 
 nished upper hall, and up a still chillier narrow second 
 staircase, into an attic region which could hardly be 
 
8 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 properly characterized as chilly, for the reason that 
 the atmosphere there was frankly freezing. 
 
 As near as possible to the gable window stood a. 
 monster structure the nature of which the beholders 
 did not instantly recognize. Phyllis was the first to 
 cry out: "A loom! It must be a very old one, too. 
 Oh, how fascinating! What do you make, Jan — 
 fabrics?" 
 
 "Rugs," explained Georgiana, pulling at a pile 
 upon the floor. " Such rugs as these. Good looking ? 
 Yes, dear classmates?" 
 
 "Stunning!" cried Madge Sylvester, with a 
 smothered shiver at the penetrating cold of the place. 
 
 "Simply wonderful!" "Too clever for anything!" 
 and, "Oh, Jan, do you make them to sell?" "Can I 
 buy this one?" "I'm wild over this dull blue and 
 Indian red!" came tumbling from the mouths of the 
 eager girlsj as in the fading light from the attic win- 
 dow they examined the hand-woven rugs. There 
 was sincerity in their voices; Georgiana had known 
 there would be; she was sure of the art and skill plainly 
 to be found in her product. 
 
 "I'm afraid not, Phyl. These are all orders, and 
 I'm weeks behind. They go to certain exclusive city 
 shops, and I have all I can do." 
 
 "You must have struck a gold mine. I'm so glad!" 
 congratulated warm-hearted Phyllis. 
 
 "Well, not exactly. It's rather slow work, when 
 
HEART BURNINGS 9 
 
 jrou do housework, too," acknowledged Georgiana. 
 "However, it does very well; it keeps us in firewobdr— 
 and oysters — for the winter." 
 
 She instantly regretted this speech, for it led, 
 presently, as she might have known it would, to 
 delicately worded expressions of hope that she would 
 in the future give her friends the pleasure of pur- 
 chasing her wares. 
 
 Down by the fireplace again Georgiana turned upon 
 them in her old jesting way, which yet had in it, as 
 they all felt, a quality which was new. "Stop it, 
 girls. No, I'll not sell one of you a rug of any size, 
 shape, or colour. I'm far behind, as I told you. But 
 — I'll send Madge a gorgeous one for a wedding 
 present, if she'll tell me her preferences, and I'll do the 
 same for each of you, when you meet your fates. 
 Now stop talking about it. I only showed you to 
 demonstrate that this is a busy world for me as well as 
 for you, and that I'm very content in it. Dot, don't 
 you want just one more of these fruitkins? By 
 the way, since you like them so much, I'll give 
 you the recipe. I made it up — ^wasn't it clever of 
 me?" 
 
 "You're much the cleverest of us all, anyway,'* 
 murmured Dot meekly, nibbling at the delicious 
 morsel, while her hostess rapidly wrote out a little 
 formula and gave it to her with a smile. 
 
 They were soon off after that, for the early winter 
 
lo UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 twilight was upon them, and the lights in the waiting 
 car outside suddenly came on with a suggestive com- 
 pleteness. Georgiana assisted her guests into lux- 
 urious coats and capes made of or lined with chin- 
 chilla, with otter, with sable; handed gloves and 
 muffs; and listened to all manner of affectionate 
 parting speeches, every one of which contained press- 
 ing invitations for visits, short or long. Each girl 
 made promises of future calls, and professed her- 
 self eager to come and stay with Georgiana at any 
 time. Then the whole group went away on a littlfe 
 warm breeze of good-fellowship and human kind- 
 ness. 
 
 "They are dears," admitted Georgiana, as she 
 waved her arm at the departing car; "but, oh! — oh! 
 I can't stand having them sorry for me! The old 
 manse is shabby, and every girl of them knew how 
 many times this frock has been made over — I saw 
 Celia recognize it even through its dye. No wonder, 
 when it's been at every college tea she ever gave. 
 But I won't — / won't — be pitied ! " 
 
 The door opened, and a slender figure in an old- 
 fashioned dressing-gown came slowly into the firelit 
 room. 
 
 Georgiana turned quickly. "Father Davy! Do 
 you feel better? If I'd known it, I'd have brought 
 you in to meet the girls. They would have enjoyed 
 you so." 
 
HEART BURNINGS ii 
 
 "I'm not quite up to meeting the girls perhaps, 
 daughter, but decidedly better and correspondingly 
 cheerful. Have you had a good time?" 
 
 He placed himself as carefully as possible upon the 
 couch by the fire, and his daughter tucked him up in 
 an old plaid shawl which had lain folded upon it. 
 She dropped upon the hearthrug and sat looking into 
 the fire, while her father regarded the picture she 
 made in the dyed frock, now a soft Indian red, a hue 
 which pleased his eye and brought out all her gypsy 
 colouring. 
 
 The head upon the couch pillow was topped with a 
 soft mass of curly gray hair, the face below was thin 
 and pale, but the eyes which rested upon the girl were 
 the clearest, youngest blue-gray eyes that ever spoke 
 mutely of the spirit's triumph over the body. One 
 had but to glance at David Warne to understand that 
 here was a man who was no less a man because he had 
 to spend many hours of every day upon his tortured 
 back. It was three years since he had been forced to 
 lay aside the care of the village-and-country parish of 
 which he had been minister, but he had given up not 
 a whit of his interest in his fellowmen, and now that 
 he could seldom go to them he had taught them to 
 come to him, so that the old manse was almost as 
 much a centre of the village's interest and affection as 
 it had been when its master went freely in and out. 
 A new manse had been built nearer the church, for 
 
12 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 the new man, and the old house left to Mr. Warne's 
 undisputed possession — proof positive of his place in 
 the hearts of the community. 
 
 "A good time.'"' murmured Georgiana, in answer 
 to the question. "No, a hateful, envious, black- 
 browed time, disguised as much as might be under a 
 frivolous manner. The girls were lovely — and I was 
 a perfect fiend ! " 
 
 Mr. Warne did not seem in the least disconcerted 
 by this startling statement. "The sounds I heard 
 did not strike me as indicating the presence of any 
 fiend," he suggested. 
 
 "Probably not. I managed to avoid giving in to 
 the temptation to snatch Phyl's sumptuous chinchilla 
 coat, Madge's perfectly adorable hat, Theo's bronze 
 shoes, Dot's embroidered silk handbag, and Bess's 
 hand-wrought collar and cuffs." 
 
 "It was a matter of clothes, then.? How much 
 heart-burning men escape!" mused Mr. Warne. 
 "Now, I can never recall hearing any man, young or 
 old, express a longing to denude other men of their 
 apparel." 
 
 Georgiana shot him a look. "No, men merely envy 
 other men their acres, their horses, their motors — and 
 their books. Own up, now, Father Davy, have you 
 never coveted any man's library?" 
 
 The blue-gray eyes sent her back a humorous 
 glance. "Now you have me," he owned. "But tell 
 
HEART BURNINGS 13 
 
 me, daughter — it was not only their clothes which 
 stirred the fiend within you? Confess!" 
 
 She looked round at him. "I don't need to," she 
 said. "You know the whole of it — ^what I want for 
 you and me — ^what they have — life! And lots of it. 
 You need it just as badly as I do — you, a suffering 
 saint at fifty-five when other men are playing golf! 
 And I — simply bursting with longing to take you and 
 go somewhere — anywhere with you — and see things 
 — and do things — and live things! And we as poor 
 as poverty, after all you've done for the Lord. Oh, 
 I " 
 
 She brought her strong young fist down on the nearly 
 threadbare rug with a thump that reddened the fine 
 flesh, and thumped again and yet again, while her 
 father lay and silently watched her, with a look in his 
 eyes less of pain than of utter comprehension. He 
 said not a word, while she bit her lip and stared again 
 into the fire, clenching the fist that had spoken for her 
 bitterly aching heart. After a time the tense fingers 
 relaxed, and she held up thz hand and looked at it. 
 
 "I'm a brute!" she said presently. "An abomi- 
 nable little brute. How do you stand me ? How do 
 you endure me. Father Davy! I just bind the load 
 on your poor back and pull the knots tight, every 
 time I let myself break out like this. If you were any 
 minister-father but yourself, you'd either preach or 
 pray at me. How can you keep from it?" 
 
14 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 He smiled. "I never liked to be preached or 
 prayed at myself, dear," he said. "I have not for- 
 gotten. And the Lord Himself doesn't expect a 
 young caged lioness to act like a caged canary. He 
 doesn't want it to. And some day — He will let it 
 out of the cage!" 
 
 She shook her head, and got up. She kissed the 
 gray curls and patted the thin cheek, said cheerfully: 
 "I'm going to get your supper now," and went away 
 out of the room. 
 
 In the square old kitchen she flung open an outer 
 door and stood staring up at the starry winter sky. 
 
 "Oh, if anything, anything, anything would 
 happen!" she breathed, stretching out both arms 
 toward the snowy shrubbery-broken expanse behind 
 the house which -in summer was her garden. "If 
 something would just keep this evening from being 
 like all the other evenings! I can't sit and read 
 aloud — to-night. I can't — I can't! And the only 
 interesting thing on earth that can happen is that 
 Jimps Stuart may come over — and he probably won't, 
 because he was over last evening and the evening 
 before that, and he knows he can't be allowed to come 
 all the time. He " 
 
 It was at this point that the old brass knocker on 
 the front door sounded — and something happened. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 SOMETHING REALLY HAPPENS 
 
 IT MIGHT have been any of the village people, as 
 Georgiana expected it would be when she closed 
 the kitchen door with a bang and went reluctantly to 
 answer the knock. Since it was almost suppertime 
 it was probably Mrs. Shear, who seldom made a call 
 at any other hour, knowing she would as surely be 
 asked to stay as it was sure that David Wame's 
 heart would respond to the wanness and unhappiness 
 always written on Mrs. Shear's homely middle-aged 
 face. As she went to the door, Georgiana felt an in~ 
 tensely wicked desire to hit Mrs. Shear a blow with 
 her own capable fist, which should send her backward 
 into the snow. Georgiana did not believe that the 
 lady was as unhappy as she looked. It seemed to be 
 a day for expression by the use of fists ! 
 
 But when the door was opened and the light from 
 the bracket lamp in the manse hall shone out on 
 the figure standing upon the porch, all desire to hit 
 anything more with her fist vanished from the girl's 
 heart. For with the first look into the face of the 
 ttxksi outside her instant wish was to have him come in 
 
 IS 
 
i6 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 — and stay. Somebody so evidently from the great 
 world which seemed so far away from the old village 
 manse — somebody who looked as if he could bring 
 with him into this dull life of theirs all manner of in- 
 terest — it was small wonder that in her present mood 
 the girl should feel like this. And it must by no 
 means be supposed that Georgiana was in the habit 
 of experiencing this sort of wish every time she set eyes 
 upon a personable man. Personable men had been 
 many in her acquaintance during the four years of her 
 college life, and more than one of them had followed 
 her back to the old manse to urge his claim upon hei 
 attention. 
 
 "Is the Reverend Mr. Warne at home?" asked the 
 stranger in a low and pleasant voice. " I have a letter 
 of introduction to him." 
 
 "Please come in," answered Georgiana, and led 
 him straight into the living-room and her father's 
 presence. Then, though consumed with curiosity,, 
 she retired — as far as the door of the dining-roomj 
 where she remained, ready to listen in a most repre- 
 hensible manner to the conversation which should 
 follow. 
 
 There was an exchange of greetings, then evi- 
 dently Mr. Warne was reading the letter of intro- 
 duction. Presently he spoke: 
 
 "This is quite sufficient," he said, "to make you 
 welcome under this roof. My old friend Davidson 
 
SOMETHING REALLY HAPPENS 17 
 
 has my aiFection and confidence always. Please tell 
 me what I can do for you, Mr. Jefferson." 
 
 "I should like," replied the stranger's voice, "to 
 have a room with you, and possibly board, if that 
 might be. If not, perhaps I could find that else- 
 where; but if I might at least have the room I should 
 be very glad. I am hard at work upon a book, and I 
 have]come away from my home and other work to find a 
 place where I can live quietly, write steadily, and be 
 outdoors every day for long walks in the country. 
 Doctor Davidson suggested this place, and thought 
 you might take me in — for an indefinite period of 
 time, possibly some months." 
 
 "That sounds very pleasant to me," Georgiana 
 heard her father reply. "We have never had a 
 boarder, my daughter and I, but, if she has no objec- 
 tion, I should enjoy having such a man as you look to 
 be, in the house. Your letter, you see, is not your 
 only introduction. You carry with you in your face 
 a passport to other men's favour." 
 
 "That is good of you," answered Mr. Jefferson — 
 and Georgiana Uked the frank tone of his voice. It 
 was an educated voice, it spoke for itself of the per- 
 sonality behind it. 
 
 "I will go and talk with my daughter," she heard 
 her father say, after the two men had had some little 
 conversation concerning a book or two lying on the 
 table by Mr. Wame's couch. 
 
18 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 Georgiana fled into the kitchen, where her father 
 found her. When he appeared, closing the door 
 behind him, she was ready for him before he 
 spoke. 
 
 "If he were the angel Gabriel or old'Pluto himself 
 I'd welcome him," she said under her breath, her eyes 
 dancing. "To have somebody in the house for you 
 to talk with besides your everlasting old parishioners 
 — ^why, it would be worth a world of trouble ! And it 
 won't be any trouble at all. Go tell him your 
 daughter reluctantly consents." * 
 
 "You heard, then ? " queried Mr. Wame, a quizzical 
 smile on his gentle lips. 
 
 "Of course I heard! I was listening hard ! I was 
 all ears — regular donkey ears. He's a godsend. His 
 board will pay for sirloin instead of round. We'll 
 have roast duck on Sunday — twice a winter. He 
 can have the big front room; I'll have it ready by to- 
 morrow night." 
 
 "Come in and arrange details," urged Mr. Wame. 
 
 Georgiana stayed behind a minute to compose her 
 face and manner, then went in, the demurest of 
 young housewives. Not for nothing had been her 
 years of college life, which had made, when occasion 
 demanded, a quietly poised woman out of a girl who 
 had been, according to village standards, a somewhat 
 hoydenish young person. 
 
 As she faced the stranger in the full light of the 
 
SOMETHING REALLY HAPPENS 19 
 
 fire-and-Iamp-lit room, she saw in detail that of 
 'which she had had a swift earher impression. Mr. 
 Jefferson was a man in, she thought, the early 
 thirties, with a strongly modelled, shaven face, 
 keen brown eyes behind eyeglasses, a mouth which 
 could be grave one moment and humorous the 
 next, and the air of a man who was accustomed to 
 thmk for himself and expect others to do so. He 
 jwas well built though not tall, well dressed though 
 not dapper, and he looked less like a writer of books 
 than a participant in action of some kind or other. 
 His dark hair showed a thread or two of gray at the 
 temples, but this suggestion of age did not seem at all 
 to age him. 
 
 The stranger, on his part, saw a rather more than 
 commonly charming Georgiana, on account of the 
 Indian-red silk frock. 
 
 "It's not fair to him," thought Georgiana, "to 
 show him a landlady who looks so festive and fine. I 
 can't afford to wear this often, even for his benefit." 
 But to him she said : "I know it will give my father 
 much pleasure to have some one in the house besides 
 his daughter. And I am quite willing to have you at 
 our table. I must warn you that we hve very simply, 
 as you must guess." 
 
 "I live very simply myself," Mr. Jefferson assured 
 her. "There are few things I do not like. My one 
 serious antipathy is Brussels sprouts," he added, 
 
20 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 smiling. "With that confession the coast is clear. 
 And — you would not mind my smoking in my room ? " 
 
 Georgiana glanced at her father with a suddenly 
 mischievous expression. He was studying the pros- 
 pective boarder with interested eyes. 
 
 "I thinkj" confessed Mr. Warne, "that merely to 
 catch a whifF now and then of a fragrance which is 
 singularly pleasant to me, but which I am denied 
 producing for myself, would add to the things that 
 give me comfort. If you wouldn't mind smoking in 
 the hall now and then, or, better yet, by my fireside, 
 I should be grateful." 
 
 Mr. Jefferson nodded. "Thank you, sir. And 
 now — ^when may I come? I have a room at the 
 hotel, so don't let me in until you are quite ready." 
 
 "You may come to-morrow night for supper," 
 promised Georgiana. "But you haven't seen the 
 room." She rose. 
 
 "It will be in the upper right front?" hazarded Mr. 
 Jefferson. "And it will have the customary furnish- 
 ings and some means of heating?" 
 
 "I should prefer to have you see it," she insisted, 
 and lighted a candle in an ancient pewter candle- 
 stick with an extinguisher at the side. 
 
 So the stranger, following her upstairs, surveyed 
 his room and professed himself entirely satisfied. It 
 looked bare enough to Georgiana as she skewed it to 
 him, but she told herself that there were possibilities 
 
SOMETHING REALLY HAPPENS 21 
 
 in the matter of certain belongings of her own room 
 which could be transferred to give an air of homelike- 
 ness to this. 
 
 "It is large, and I can have plenty of Hght and air," 
 commented the prospective boarder. "If I might 
 have some sort of good-sized table by that south 
 window, for my work, I should consider myself pro- 
 vided for." 
 
 "You will find one when you come," promised the 
 girl. 
 
 "Thank you. Now, I will take myself off at once. 
 Then you may have a chance to discuss with your 
 father the probabilities in favour of your not regretting 
 your quick decision," he said as he descended the 
 stairs. 
 
 "Father and I always make quick decisions," 
 Georgiana remarked. 
 
 "Good! So do I. Do you hold to them as well ? " 
 
 "Always. That's part of father's creed." 
 
 "That's very good; that speaks for itself. Well, I 
 promise you I shall be busy enough not to bother this 
 household overmuch. By the way " — he turned sud- 
 denly — "that table you spoke of putting in my room 
 — if it is large, it must be heavy. Your father can- 
 not help you lift it, and you should not lift it alone. 
 Don't put it in place until I come — please?" 
 
 She smiled. "That's very thoughtful of you. But 
 I am quite equal to moving it alone." 
 
22 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 "Then let me help you now, won't you?" he 
 offered. 
 
 She shook her head. "It's really not ready to be 
 moved. Don't think of it again, please." 
 
 He bade them good-night and went away, with no 
 lingering speeches on the road to the door. He had 
 the air of a man accustomed to measure his time and 
 to waste none of it. When he had gone Georgiana 
 went back to her father. He looked up at her with 
 a twinkle in his still boyish eyes. 
 
 "Well, daughter, it looks to me as if this had 
 happened just in time to prevent a bad explosion 
 from too high pressure of accumulated energy. You 
 can now lower the position of the indicator on the 
 steam gauge to the safety point by spending the 
 whole day to-morrow in sweeping and dusting and 
 baking. If there are any spare moments you can 
 employ them in making over your clothes." 
 
 "Father Davy! Where did you get such a per- 
 fectly uncanny understanding?" 
 
 "From observation — ^purely from observation. 
 And I myself confess to feeling considerably excited 
 and elated. It is not every day that a gentleman of 
 this sort knocks at the door of a village manse and 
 asks to come in and write a book. If it had not been 
 that my old friend Davidson is always bringing 
 people together who need each other, I should think 
 it the strangest thing in the world that this should 
 
SOMETHING REALLY HAPPENS 23 
 
 happen. Davidson is the minister of a great New 
 York church where this Mr. Jefferson attends; and 
 Davidson has never forgotten me, though he took the 
 high road and I the low so soon after he left the semi- 
 nary. Well, it will give us a fresh interest, my dear, 
 for as long as it lasts." 
 
 Georgiana thought it would. She was up betimes 
 next morning, to begin the sweeping and dusting and 
 general turning upside down of the long-imused 
 upper front room. In the course of her window 
 washing, her shoulders enveloped in an old red shawl, 
 she was vigorously hailed from below. 
 
 " Ship ahoy! Your name, cargo, and destination ? " 
 
 Without turning she called merrily back: "The 
 Jefferson, with a cargo of books, bound for the 
 public!" 
 
 "What's that? I don't get you." 
 
 "Never mind. I'm too busy to be spoken by every 
 passing ship." 
 
 "I'll be up," called the voice, and footsteps 
 sounded upon the porch. The front door banged, 
 the same ringing male voice was heard shouting a 
 "Good-morning, sir!" and the owner of the voice 
 came leaping up the stairs and burst into the room 
 without ceremony. He advanced till he was close to 
 the open window, and nodded through the glass at 
 the window-washer, who sat on the sill with her upper 
 body outside. 
 
24 UNDER THE CX)UNTRY SKY 
 
 He was a fine specimen of youth and brawn and 
 energy, the young man whom Georgiana had pointed 
 out to her friends as one of her resources when it came 
 to the good times they were so anxious to know of. His 
 name was James Stuart, and he was a near neighbour 
 of the manse. He wajs a college graduate of three 
 years' longer standing than Geoi^iana, and he, like 
 her, had returned to the country home and his 
 father's farm because his aging parents could not 
 spare him, and he was the only son whose lack of 
 other ties left him free to care for them. He and this 
 girl had been schoolmates and long-time friends — 
 with interesting intervals of enmity during the 
 earlier years — and were now sworn comrades, though 
 they still quarrelled at times. It looked, after a min- 
 ute, as if this would be one of those times. 
 
 "I didn't just get you," complained James Stuart 
 through the window. 
 
 "Wait till I come in. I can't tell all the neigh- 
 bours." 
 
 Georgiana polished off her last pane, pushed up the 
 window and slipped into the room, quite unneces- 
 sarily assisted by Stuart. 
 
 "I can't understand," began the young man, 
 eying with approval her blooming face, frost-stung 
 and smooth in texture as the petals of a rose, "why 
 you're washing the windows of a room that's always 
 shut up." 
 
SOMETHING REALLY HAPPENS 25 
 
 "Jimps, if you were Mrs. Perkins next door I'd 
 jnderstand your consuming curiosity. As it is " 
 
 "Going to have company?" 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 "Then — ^what in thunder " 
 
 "We're going to have a boarder, if you must 
 know." Georgiana began to attack the inside of the 
 window. 
 
 "A boarder! What sort?" 
 
 "A very good sort. He's a literary person with a 
 book to write." 
 
 "Suffering cats! Not the man at the hotel?" 
 
 "I believe he was to exist at the hotel — if he could 
 ■ — for twenty-four hours," admitted Georgiana. 
 
 "But that man," objected Mr. James Stuart, "is a 
 — ^why, he's — ^he doesn't look like that sort at all." 
 
 "What sort, if you please?" 
 
 "The literary. He looks like a — ^well, I took him 
 for a professional man of some kind." 
 
 Georgiana laughed derisively. "Jimps! Isn't 
 authorship a profession ? " 
 
 "Well, I mean, you know, he doesn't look like an 
 ink-slinger; he looks like some sort of a doer. He 
 hasn't that dreamy expression. He sees vnth both 
 eyes at once. In other words, he seems to be all 
 there." 
 
 "Your idea of literary men is a disgrace to your 
 education, Jimps. Think of the author-soldiers^ 
 
26 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 and author-engineers — and author-Presidents of the 
 United States," she ended triumphantly. 
 
 "It doesn't matter," admitted Stuart. "The 
 thing that does is that he's coming here. I can't say 
 that appeals to me. How in time did he come to 
 apply ? " Georgiana told him briefly, Stuart looked 
 gloomy. "That's all right," he said, "as long as he 
 confines himself to being company for your father. 
 But if he takes to being company for you — look out!" 
 
 "Absurd! He's years older than I, and he said 
 he would be working very hard. I shall see nothing 
 of him except at the table. Heavens! don't grudge 
 us anything that promises to relieve the monotony of 
 our lives even a little bit." 
 
 Stuart whistled. "Monotony, eh? In spite of all 
 my visits ? All right. But I'd be just as well pleased 
 if he wore skirts. And mind you — ^your Uncle Jimps 
 is coming over evenings just as often as and a little 
 oftener than if you didn't have this literary light 
 burning on your hearthstone. See?" 
 
 He went away, his thick fair hair, uncapped, 
 shining in the morning sunlight, his arm waving a 
 friendly farewell back at the window, where a white 
 cloth flapped in reply. 
 
 "Dear old boy!" thought the young woman 
 afi'ectionately; "what should I do without him?" 
 
 That afternoon, just before the supper hour, the 
 boarder's trunk arrived. It was borne upstairs by 
 
SOMETHING REALLY HAPPENS 27 
 
 the village baggageman, complaining bitterly of its 
 weight. It was an aristocratic-looking trunk, and it 
 bore labels which indicated that it was a traveled 
 trunk. Shortly afterward the boarder . himself ap- 
 peared and was allowed to betake himself at once to 
 his room, from which he emerged at the call of the 
 bell, and came promptly down. Meeting Mr. Warne 
 limping slowly through the hall, he offered his arm, 
 and in the dining-room placed his host in his chair 
 with the gentle deference so welcome from a younger 
 man to an older. 
 
 Georgiana, as she served one of the undeniably 
 simple but toothsome meals for the cooking of which 
 she was equipped by many years' apprenticeship, 
 noted how bright grew Father Davy's face as the 
 supper progressed, and how delightfully the new- 
 comer talked — and listened — for if he was an in- 
 teresting talker he proved to be a still more ac- 
 complished listener. When the supper was over 
 Mr. Jefferson lingered a few minutes by the fire, 
 then went up to his room, explaining that he must un- 
 pack his books and make ready for an early attack in 
 the morning upon his work. 
 
 In her own room, that night, Georgiana lay awake 
 for a long time. Just before she went to sleep she 
 addressed herself sternly: 
 
 "My child, I shouldn't wonder if you've jumped 
 out of the frying pan of monotony into the fire of un« 
 
28 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 rest. It certainly means trouble for you when you 
 can't get a perfect stranger's face out of your mind for 
 an hour. Now, there's just one thing about it: 
 you've always despised girls who let themselves leap 
 into liking any man and are so upset by it that 
 everybody sees it. This one is undoubtedly either 
 married or engaged to be, and even if he's the freest 
 old bachelor alive you are to behave as if he were the 
 tightest tied. You are to go straight ahead with 
 your work and to remember every minute that you 
 are a poor minister's daughter with only a college 
 training for an asset. He's very clearly a man of im- 
 portance somewhere; he couldn't look like that and 
 be anything else. He will never think twice of vou. 
 Whatever attention he gives you will be purely be- 
 cause he is a gentleman and he can't ignore his 
 host's daughter — nonsense, his landlady — I might 
 as well face it. He's a boarder and I'm his 
 landlady. Gentlemen don't take much interest in 
 landladies. So now, Georgiana Warne, landlady — 
 keeper of a boarding-house, be sensible and go to 
 sleep." 
 
 But before she went to sleep her mind, in spite of 
 her, had imaged for her again the interesting, clever- 
 looking face of the stranger under the roof, with his 
 clear, straightforward glance that seemed to see so 
 much, his smile which disclosed splendid teeth, his 
 strongly moulded chin. Anil •he had owned, frankly. 
 
SOMETHING REALLY HAPPENS 29 
 
 driven to the confession just to see if it wouldn't re- 
 lieve her: 
 
 "It's just such a face as I've seen and liked — in 
 crowds sometimes — but I never knew the owner of 
 one. It's such a face as a woman would remember to 
 her grave, if its owner had just belonged to her one — 
 hour! Oh, dear God, I've prayed you to let some- 
 thing happen — anything! And now I'm — afraid!" 
 
 But, in the morning, when pulses beat strongly and 
 courage is bright, Georgiana had another tone to 
 take with herself. She faced her image in the glass, 
 which looked straight back at her with unflinching 
 dark eyes.. 
 
 "I'm ashamed of you! To moon and croon like 
 that! Now, brace up, Miss Warne, and be yourself. 
 You've never lacked spirit; you're not going to lack it 
 now. You're going to be strong and sane about this 
 thing. You're going to be the sort of girl whose 
 mind no man can guess at. You're going to weave 
 rugs for your life, and enjoy Jimps Stuart as you 
 always have, and there's not going to be a whimper 
 out of you from this hour, no matter what happens — 
 or doesn't happen. Do you hear? Well, then — ■ 
 attention! Head up, shoulders back, heart steady; 
 forward, march ! " 
 
 Two hours later, when, in the absence of the new 
 inmate, Georgiana went into his room to put it in 
 order for the day, she found it impossible not to note 
 
30 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 the character of his belongings. They were few and 
 simple enough, but in every detail they betrayed a 
 fastidious taste. And among the articles in ebony 
 and leather which lay upon the linen cover of the old 
 bureau stood one which held her fascinated attention. 
 It was a framed photograph of a young and very 
 lovely woman in evening dress, and the face which 
 smiled over the perfect shoulder was looking straight 
 out at her. 
 
 Georgiana stared back. "Who are you?" she 
 whispered. "I might have known you would be 
 here!" 
 
 "And who, please, are you?" the picture seemed to 
 query lightly, smiling in return for the other's frown. 
 "As for me, don't you see plainly? I belong to him. 
 Else why should he have me here ? You see I'm the 
 only one he cared to bring. Doesn't that speak for 
 Itself?" 
 
 "Of course it does," agreed Georgiana; then 
 stoutly: "And why should I care? Of course I 
 don't care. To care would be — absurd ! " 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 A SEMI-ANNUAL OCCURRENCE 
 
 FATHER DAVY, the 'Semi-Annual' has come!" 
 Georgiana, tugging with both strong young 
 arms, hauled the big express package into the 
 living-room of the old manse, and shut the door with 
 a bang. Breathing rapidly from her exertions, her 
 cheeks warmly flushed, her dark eyes glowing, she 
 stood over the package, looking at her father with a 
 curious sort of smile not wholly compounded of joy 
 and satisfaction. 
 
 "That is very good," said Father Davy in his 
 pleasant voice; "and very opportune. It was but 
 yesterday, it seems to me, that I heard daughter de- 
 claring that she was 'Oh, so shabby!'" 
 
 "Yes, yes — but what do you wager there is there?" 
 questioned Georgiana. " I can tell you before I take 
 the cover off". Three evening gowns, frivolous and im- 
 possible for a little town Uke this; one draggled lingerie 
 frock, two evening coats, and possibly — ^just possibly — • 
 a last year's tailored suit, with a tear in the front of the 
 skirt and not a scrap of goods to make a fold to cover it. 
 Why, oh, why, do they never have any pieces?" 
 
 31 
 
32 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 "The reason seems obvious enough," Mr. Warne 
 suggested, as the girl stooped and began to wrestle 
 with the cords which tied the big package. His 
 glance fell musingly on the down-bent head with its 
 masses of dark-brown hair, upon the white and 
 shapely arms from which the sleeves were rolled 
 back, — Georgiana had been busy in the kitchen when 
 the expressman came, — upon the whole comely 
 young figure in its blue-print morning dress. "They 
 never have need of the pieces, I should judge," said 
 he. 
 
 "But I have. Jeannette might think of me when 
 she orders her clothes, not just when her maid is 
 packing the box with a lot of castaways. Well, 
 here's hoping there's just one thing I can use," and 
 she lifted the cover of the box and looked within, it 
 cannot be denied, with eager curiosity. 
 
 "There are always many things you can use," her 
 father gently reminded her; "you, who are so in- 
 genious." 
 
 "Here's the evening frock!" cried his daughter, 
 lifting out the top garment and holding it up before 
 them both. "Oh, what a dress to send a poor country 
 cousin! Fluff and flimsy, trimmed with sparklers; 
 cut frightfully low, no sleeves, and a draggly train. 
 Doesn't it look suitable for me ? " She flung it aside 
 with a gesture of scorn. "Ah, here's something a 
 shade better! A little dancing frock of rose-coloured 
 
A SEMI-ANNUAL OCCURRENCE 33 
 
 chifFon — and her clumsy partner stepped on the hem 
 of it. The maid in the dressing-room sewed it up for 
 her to have her last dance in, and then she came home 
 and threw it into the box for me. Well, I can get a 
 gorgeous motor veil out of it — I who have so many 
 drives in the cars of the rich!" 
 
 "The — the under part looks available to me," 
 suggested Mr. Warne, striving to be of comfort. 
 
 Georgiana shrugged her blue-clad shoulders. "Oh, 
 yes, if I could dress in slitted silk petticoats and you 
 could wear them for dressing-gowns, we'd have plenty. 
 Well, look at this! Here's a velvet — cerise! What a 
 glorious, impossible colour! And here's the lingerie 
 frock; that's not so bad; I really think it will stand a 
 couple of launderings before it falls to pieces in my 
 hands. And here's the evening coat — pale gray with 
 fox trimmings — and she's fallen foul of some ink or 
 something, and the cleaner couldn't get it all out. 
 Father Davy, look!" 
 
 "It seems to me," said Mr. Warne in his gentle 
 tones, which were yet not without more firmness than 
 one might expect from so frail a person, "that I have 
 heard somewhere a homely proverb to the effect that 
 it is not quite in good taste to " 
 
 "'Look a gift horse in the mouth,'" finished Geor- 
 giana. Her eyes were rebellious. "And there's an- 
 other: 'Beggars mustn't be choosers' Yes, I know. 
 Only, semi-annually I certainly do experience a 
 
34 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 burning wish that my dear rich relations were per- 
 sons with a trifle keener sense of discernment as to 
 which of their old clothes would be most appreciated 
 by their poor cousins. They must now and then, 
 Father Davy, wear something sensible. They must 
 have morning clothes and street clothes — adorable 
 ones. Why do they send only the worldly clothes to 
 the manse ? And why — zvhy do they never put in so 
 much as one of Uncle Thomas's discarded cravats for 
 the Little Minister himself? " 
 
 "Your Uncle Thomas and I may possibly have 
 different tastes in the matter of neckwear," replied 
 Mr. Warne with such gravity of manner but such a 
 sparkle of humour in his blue-gray eyes that his 
 daughter laughed in spite of herself. "Come, comc^ 
 dear, is there nothing you can approve among all 
 those rich materials? You might make me in- 
 numerable cravats, and I am such a fop I could wear 
 a fresh one each day — to please you." 
 
 " Father Davy ! " Georgiana sat back on her heels. 
 She had slipped her bared arms into the armholes of 
 the sleeveless white "flufF-and-flimsy" evening frock, 
 and the "sparklers" of the low-cut bodice now 
 framed her blue-print clad shoulders with an astonish- 
 ing effect of incongruity. "I have a wonderful in- 
 spiration. Let's ask Jeannette out here for a visit — 
 an object-lesson as to the state of life whereunto the 
 country cousins have been called. She hasn't seen 
 
A SEMI-ANNUAL OCCURRENCE 35 
 
 me in ten years, and all I remember of her is a fluffy, 
 yellow-haired girl with a sniffly cold in her head. 
 What do you say. Father Davy ? Shall we ask her ? " 
 
 Her father's gaze, quiet, comprehending, more 
 than a little amused, met Georgiana's, audacious, de- 
 fiant, mischievous, yet reasonable. The two looked 
 at each other for a full minute. 
 
 "Do you think she would come?" Mr. Warne in- 
 quired doubtfully. 
 
 "Why shouldn't she come? She's had a gay 
 winter so far, but not a happy one. She's no 
 debutante any more, you know; she's an 'old girl' in 
 her fifth season. That's what the society girls get 
 by coming out at eighteen. Now I, who am only a 
 year out of college and who never 'came out' in my 
 life, am as keen at the game of being grown up as if I 
 were just putting up my hair for the first time. Well, 
 Jeannette's been keeping up the pace all winter, is 
 thoroughly worn out and unhappy, and doesn't know 
 what to do with herself. It's March — and Lent — 
 the time of year when the society folks betake them- 
 selves to spring resorts to recover their shattered 
 nerves. Don't you think she'd jump at the chance 
 to come to the little country town and try what our 
 air and our cookery would do for her?" 
 
 "You seem to know all about her in spite of not 
 having seen or known her — except through these 
 boxes of clothes — since she was a little girl." 
 
36 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 "Ah, that's just it — through her boxes — that's 
 how I know her ! " Triumphantly Georgiana held up 
 the cerise velvet gown. "Don't I know a girl who 
 would wear that? Wild for excitement — that's why 
 she chose the colour. But she didn't get the fun she 
 expected; he didn't like it — or somebody said she 
 looked too pale in it — and she fired it at me before she 
 had done more than take the freshness off. / can 
 wear it — see here!" 
 
 She got to her feet, untied the little black silk tie 
 which held the low-rolling collar of her working dress 
 at the throat, unfastened a row of hooks, and let the 
 blue print slip to her feet. Over the glory of her 
 white shoulders and gleaming arms she flung the 
 cerise velvet — gorgeous, glowing, wonderful colour, 
 as trying to the ordinary complexion as colour can 
 well be. But as the gown fell into place, and 
 Georgiana, backing up to her father, was fastened 
 somewhat tentatively into it, it would have been 
 plain to any beholder that if the rich girl could not 
 wear the queenly, daring robe the poor girl could — as 
 she had said. 
 
 She swept up and down the room, her head held 
 high. She played the part of a lady of fashion and 
 held an imaginary reception, carrying on a stream of 
 "society" talk with a manner which made the pale 
 man on the couch laugh like a boy. Holding a dia- 
 logue with a hypothetical male guest, she led him out 
 
A SEMI-ANNUAL OCCURRENCE 37 
 
 into the hall, still within sight of Mr. Warne's couch, 
 and was in the midst of a scene as inspiredly clever as 
 anything she had ever done at college, where she had 
 been the pride of a dramatic club whose fame had 
 waxed greater than that of any similar organization 
 for many years, when the front door of the house sud- 
 denly opened, and a gust of chilly March air rushed 
 in with the person entering. 
 
 Georgiana wheeled — to find herself confronting the 
 amused gaze of her boarder, Mr. E. C. Jefferson, as 
 read the address upon his mail. 
 
 Mr. Jefferson was by this time, after a month under 
 the roof of the old manse, well estabhshed as a 
 member of the household, though after the somewhat 
 remote fashion to be expected of a man whose ab- 
 sorbing work filled most of his waking hours. He 
 closed the door quickly as he caught sight of Geor- 
 giana in her masquerade, removed his hat, and bent 
 his head before the cerise velvet. 
 
 Georgiana, blushing as vividly as if it were the first 
 time mortal man had ever beheld her pretty shoulders, 
 threw him a laughing look, murmured: "Dress 
 parade in borrowed finery, Mr. Jefferson; don't let 
 the blaze of colour puc your eyes out!" and retreated 
 toward the living-room where her father sat, much 
 amused by the situation. 
 
 She was followed by her boarder's reply: "I find 
 myself still happily retaining the use of my eyes, Miss 
 
38 UNDER -THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 Warne. You need not be too much in haste; it is 
 very dull outside, I assure you." 
 
 He went on up the stairs, but she had caught his 
 smile, momentarily illumining a face which was 
 ordinarily rather grave. Georgiana closed the living- 
 room door upon the sight of the lithe figure rapidly 
 ascending the staircase without a glance behind. 
 As she faced her father she assumed the expression of 
 a merry child caught in mischief. 
 
 "Our new lodger has certainly come upon me in all 
 sorts of situations, not to mention disguises," she re- 
 marked, "but this is the first time he has met me in 
 the role of leading lady on the melodramatic stage. 
 Please unhook me. Father Davy; the play is over, and 
 it's time to get the pot-roast simmering. And what 
 do you say to inviting lovely Jeannette Crofton to 
 visit us? Would it be too hard on you?" 
 
 "Not at all, my dear. I should be glad to see your 
 Uncle Thomas's daughter. Invite her, by all means. 
 You have far too little young companionship; it will 
 do you good to have a girl of your own age in the 
 house." 
 
 "I wonder how we shall get on," mused Georgiana. 
 "Anyhow she'll see what a market this is for evening 
 frocks cut on her lines!" 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 A LITERARY LIGHT 
 
 MANY hours afterward, the labours of the day 
 over, Georgiana bent her dark head above an 
 old-fashioned writing-desk in a corner of the living- 
 room, and dashed off the contemplated letter to her 
 almost unknown cousin. How the invitation would be 
 received she had little idea, but since a letter of thanks 
 was undeniably due in response to the "Semi-Annual" 
 box, it was certainly a simple and natural matter 
 enough to offer in return for it a possible pleasure and 
 a certain benefit. 
 
 "I'll run straight down to the post-office and mail 
 it," declared Georgiana, sealing and stamping her 
 letter after having read it aloud to her father. "A 
 run in this March wind will be good for me after 
 baking and brewing all day." 
 
 "Do, daughter; and take a tumbler or two of jelly 
 to Mrs. Ames, by the way. And pick a spray or two 
 of the scarlet geranium to go with it." Mr, Warne 
 spoke from the depths of an old armchair by the 
 living-room fire, where, with a lamp at his elbow, he 
 was not too deep in a speech of the elder Pitt on 
 
 39 
 
40 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 "Quartering Soldiers in Boston," to take thought for 
 an invalid whom he considered far less fortunate than 
 himself. 
 
 "I will — poor, disagreeable old lady. She doesn't 
 admit that anything tastes as it should, but I observe 
 our jelly is never long in disappearing." 
 
 Georgiana, now wearing in honour of the close of 
 day a simple frock of dark-blue wool with a dash of 
 scarlet at throat and wrists, donned a big military 
 cape of blue, scarlet lined, and twisted about her neck 
 a scarf of scarlet silk (dyed from a Semi-Annual 
 petticoat!), which served less as a protection than as 
 the finishing touch to her gay winter's night costume. 
 She was likely to meet few people on her way, but 
 there were always plenty of loungers in the small vil- 
 lage post-office, and not even a college graduate could 
 be altogether disdainful of the masculine admiration 
 sure to be found there, though she might ignore it. 
 
 As she closed the house door, lifting her face to a 
 cold, starlit sky from which the clouds of the day had 
 broken away at sundown, another door a few rods 
 down the quiet street banged loudly, and the sharp 
 creak of rapid footsteps was immediately to be heard 
 upon the frozen gravel. Georgiana smiled in the 
 darkness at the coincidence of that banging door. 
 
 "Well met!" called a ringing voice. "Curious that 
 I should break out of Mrs. Perkins's just as you 
 came along!" 
 
A LITERARY LIGHT 41 
 
 "Very curious, Jimps. How do you manage it? 
 I stole out like a cat just to avoid such a possibility. 
 I knew you were there." 
 
 "Did you, indeed?" inquired the owner of the 
 voice, coming up and standing still to look at what he 
 could see of the military-caped form. His own 
 strongly built figure took up its, position beside hers 
 as if by right. His hand slipped lightly under her 
 arm, and he turned her gently to face the direction 
 in which he himself had set out. "That's like your 
 impertinence. To pay you for it you shall come this 
 way," he insisted. "It's only a step farther, it's not 
 quite so hackneyed, and it will bring us out where we 
 want to be. Look at the stars ! " 
 
 "They're wonderful!" 
 
 "Carrying something under that cape? Give it to 
 me, chum." 
 
 "It's only a bit of a basket, Jimps; never mind, you 
 might spill it." 
 
 "You can't carry a bit of a basket when I'm around ! 
 Spill nothing! Hand it over." 
 
 "Terribly dictatorial to-night, aren't you?" 
 
 "Possibly. I've been bossing a lot of new hands 
 to-day, who didn't know a pick from a gang-plough." 
 
 "But you've been outdoors every minute!" Her 
 tone was envious. 
 
 "Every blessed minute. And you've been in, 
 puttering over a lot of house jobs ? See here, you 
 
42 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 need a run. Let's take the time to go up Harmon 
 Hill and run down it — eh ? There'll not be a soul to 
 see." 
 
 She laughed doubtfully. "I'd love to, but — the 
 jelly?" 
 
 "That's easy." He dropped her arm, turned aside 
 to a clump of trees at the corner of an overgrown old 
 place which they were passing, and deposited the 
 little basket in the shadow. He came back and 
 caught her arm again. 
 
 " Easy, now, up the hill. I wish the snow wasn'f 
 all gone, we'd have a farewell coast at the end of the 
 season. But there'll undoubtedly be more. Hon- 
 estly, now, George, hasn't the coasting and tramp- 
 ing helped you through this first winter?" 
 
 "Jimps, I don't know what I should have done 
 without it — or you." 
 
 "Thanks; I think so myself. The first winter back 
 in the little old town, after the years away at school 
 
 and college — ^well Anyhow, I pride myself the 
 
 partnership has worked pretty well. We've been 
 about as good chums as you could ask, haven't we 
 now?" 
 
 "About as good." 
 
 "All right." His tone had a decided ring of satis- 
 faction in it, but he did not pursue the subject further. 
 Instead he changed it abruptly: "How does the 
 new boarder come on ? " 
 
A LITERARY LIGHT 43 
 
 "Very well. We really don't mind having him at 
 all, he's so quiet, and Father enjoys his table talk." 
 
 " Father does, but daughter doesn't ? " 
 
 "Oh, yes, I do — only he doesn't talk much to me. 
 I sit and listen to their discussions — and jump up tot 
 wait on them so often that I sometimes lose the 
 thread." 
 
 "The dufFer! Why doesn't he get up and wait on 
 you?" 
 
 Georgiana laughed. "Jimps, we're going to have 
 another guest." 
 
 "Another man ?" The question came quickly. 
 
 "Not at all. A girl — my cousin, Jeannette 
 Crofton. At least I'm writing to ask her for the 
 fortnight before Easter." 
 
 "Those rich Crofton relations of yours who hold 
 their heads so high for no particular reason except 
 that it helps them to forget their feet are on the 
 earth?" 
 
 "James Stuart, what have I ever said of them t© 
 make you speak like that?" 
 
 "Never mind; go on. Is it the girl whose picture 
 gets into the Sunday papers — entirely against her 
 will, of course — as the daughter of Thomas Crofton? 
 She's reported engaged, from time to time, and then 
 the report is denied. She's " 
 
 "I shall tell you no more about her," said Georgiana 
 Warne, with her head held quite as high as if she be- 
 
44 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 longed to that branch of the family to whom James 
 Stuart had so irreverently alluded. 
 
 "All right. I'm not interested in her anyhow, and 
 you'll want your breath for the run down. Come on, 
 George; one more spurt and we're up. . . . All 
 ready. Take hold of my hand. Come on!" 
 
 In the March starlight the two ran hand in hand 
 down the long, steep Harmon Hill which led from the 
 east into the little town. Stuart's grip was tight, or 
 more than once Georgiana would have slipped on 
 the rough iciness of the descent. But she did not 
 falter at the rush of it, and she was not panting, only 
 breathing quickly, when they came to a standstill 
 upon the level. 
 
 "Good lungs, those of yours, George," commented 
 Stuart, in the frank manner in which he might have 
 said it to a younger brother. "You haven't played 
 basket ball and rowed in your 'Varsity boat for 
 nothing. Sure you're not letting up a bit on all that 
 training, now that you're back, baking beans for 
 boarders ? " 
 
 "And sweeping their rooms, and carrying up wood 
 for their fires, and " 
 
 "What? Do you mean to say that literary light 
 allows you to tote wood for him?" They were 
 walking on rapidly now. "I'll be over in the 
 morning and take up a pile that'll leave no room for 
 him to put his feet. What's he thinking of? " 
 
A LITERARY LIGHT 45 
 
 " JImps, boy, how absurd you are! How should he 
 know who puts the wood in his room ? I don't go up 
 with armfuls of it when he's there." 
 
 " If you did, he'd merely open the door for you and 
 say: 'Thank you very much, my good girl.* I don't 
 like this boarder business, I can tell you that. Do 
 you let him smoke in his room?" 
 
 "Why not, you unreasonable mortal? He smokes 
 a beautiful briarwood, and such delicious tobacco 
 that I find myself sniffing the air when I go through 
 the hall in the evening, hoping I may get a whifF." 
 
 "Does, eh? When I bring up the wood I'll smoke 
 up your hall so you won't have to sniiF the air to 
 know you're enjoying the fragrance of Araby." 
 
 In this light and airy mood the pair went on their 
 way, enjoying each other's company as might any 
 boy and girl, though each had left the irresponsible 
 years behind and had settled down to the sober work 
 of manhood and womanhood. To Georgiana Warne, 
 whose necessary presence at home, instead of out in 
 the great world of activity where she longed to be, 
 Stuart's society, ashe had intimated,had been a strong 
 support during this first year and a half since her re- 
 turn. The singularly similar circumstances which 
 had shaped the plans of these two young people had 
 been the means of inspiring much comprehend- 
 ing sympathy between them. An almost lifelong 
 previous acquaintance had put them on a footing of 
 
46 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 brotherly and sisterly intimacy, now powerfully 
 enhanced by the sense of need each felt for the other. 
 It was small wonder that their fellow-townsmen were 
 accustomed to couple their names as they would 
 those of a pair long betrothed, and that, as the two 
 came together into the village post-ofl5.ce, where as us- 
 ual a group of citizens lounged and lingered on one 
 pretext or another, the appearance of "Jim Stuart 
 and Georgie Warne" should cause no comment what- 
 ever. To-night more than one idler noted, as 
 often before, the fashion in which the two were out- 
 wardly suited to each other. Both were the pos- 
 sessors of the superb health which is such a desirable 
 ally to true vigour of mind, and since both were under- 
 stood to be, in the village usage, "highly educated," 
 their attraction for each other was considered a nat- 
 ural sequence — as it undoubtedly was. 
 
 The mail procured, the letter posted, and the small 
 basket delivered to a querulously grateful old woman, 
 the young people set out for home. They had some- 
 how fallen into a more serious mood, and, walking 
 more slowly than before, discussed soberly enough 
 certain problems of Stuart's connected with the 
 commercial side of market gardening. He spoke 
 precisely as he would have spoken to a man, with the 
 possible diflference that he made his explanations of 
 business conditions a trifle fuller than he might have 
 done to any man. But his confidence in his friend's 
 
A LITERARY LIGHT 47 
 
 ability to grasp the situation was shown by the way in 
 which, ending his statement of the case, he asked her 
 advice. 
 
 "Now, given just this crisis, what would you do, 
 George?" he said. 
 
 She considered in silence for some paces. Then she 
 asked a question or two more, put with a clearness 
 which showed that she understood precisely the 
 points to be taken into consideration. He answered 
 concisely, and she then, after a minute's further com- 
 munion with herself, suggested what seemed to her a 
 feasible course. 
 
 Stuart demurred, thought it over, argued the 
 thing for a little -with her, and came round to her 
 point of view. He threw back his head with a re- 
 lieved laugh. "I admit it — it's a mighty good sug- 
 gestion; it may be the way out. Anyhow, it's well 
 worth trying. George, you're a peach! There isn't 
 one girl in a hundred who would have listened with 
 intelligence enough to make her opinion worth a pic- 
 ayune." 
 
 " I'm not a girl, Jimps. I don't want to be a girl — 
 at twenty-four. I can't; I haven't time." 
 
 "That's a safe enough statement," repHed James 
 Stuart, looking down at the dark head beside him un- 
 der the March starlight, " as long as you continue to 
 act enough like a normal girl to run down the hills with 
 me after dark. Well, here we are, worse luck! I 
 
48 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 suppose you're not going to ask me in ? " There was 
 a touch of appeal in the lightly spoken question, 
 
 "Not to-night, Jimps; I'm sorry. Father Davy 
 overdid to-day, in spite of all my efforts, and I must 
 see him to bed early and read him to sleep." 
 
 "After he's gone the literary light won't come down 
 and smoke his spices-of-Araby mixture by your fire, 
 instead of his own, while you entertain him, will he?" 
 
 Her low laugh rang out. "You ridiculous person, 
 what a vivid imagination you have! Every evening 
 at about this time the literary light goes off for a long 
 tramp by himself, and often doesn't come back till all 
 our lights are out, except the one we leave burning for 
 him. He is absolutely absorbed in his work. We 
 really see nothing at all of him except at the table." 
 
 "Just the same, the time will come," predicted 
 James Stuart. "Some night he'll take his regular 
 place at your fireside, as he does at your table. I 
 know your father's soft heart. Yours may not be 
 quite so vulnerable, but if the boarder should happen 
 to look low in his mind after a telegram from any- 
 where, or should get his precious feet wet " 
 
 "Jimps, go home and be sensible. When Jeannette 
 comes — if she does come, which I doubt more and 
 more — ^you may be asked over quite a number of 
 times during her visit." 
 
 "I presume so. And that's the time you'll have 
 Jefferson down, and you'll pair off with him, while I 
 
A LITERARY LIGHT 49 
 
 do my prettiest not to look like an awkward country- 
 man before the lady who has her picture in the 
 Sunday papers." 
 
 "Good-night, James Stuart — good-night." 
 "Good-night, Georgiana — dear," Stuart responded 
 cheerfully. But the last word was under his breath. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 SHABBINESS 
 
 I POSITIVELY didn't know how shabby the house 
 was till I'd read Jeannette's letter of acceptance ! " 
 She did not say it to her father — not Georgian a 
 Warne. She said it not to James Stuart, nor to Mr. 
 E. C. Jefferson. Being Georgiana, she said it to no 
 one but her slightly daunted self. She was standing 
 in the hall as she spoke, the wide, plain hall which 
 ran straight through the middle of the wide, plain 
 house, with its square rooms on either side and its 
 winding, old-fashioned staircase at the back. Of the 
 house itself, Georgiana was not in the least ashamed. 
 She knew that it possessed a certain charm of aspect, 
 from the fanlight over the entrance door to the 
 big quaint kitchen with its uneven floor dark with 
 time. It was when one came to details that the 
 charm sordidly vanished — at least to the critical 
 vision of the young housewife. Like the worn white 
 paint upon its exterior, the walls and floors within 
 called loudly for a restoring hand. As for the fur- 
 nishings, Georgiana looked about her with an ap- 
 praising eye which took in all their dinginess. The 
 
 so 
 
SHABBINESS 51 
 
 old rugs and carpets were so nearly threadbare; the 
 furniture was so worn; the very muslin curtains at 
 the windows, though white as hands could make 
 them, had been so many times repaired that even 
 artful draping could not wholly conceal their defi- 
 ciencies. 
 
 In other ways the household's lack of means made 
 itself plainly apparent to the daughter of the house, 
 as she went from room to room. The linen press, for 
 instance — how pitifully low its piles of sheets and 
 towels had grown! Hardly a sheet but had a patch 
 upon it, hardly a towel but had been cut down and 
 rehemmed, that it might last as long as possible. 
 There was, to be sure, one small tier of towels, 
 handed down from Georgiana's grandmother and 
 carefully preserved against much using, of which any 
 mistress of a linen press might be proud. There were 
 also two pairs of fine hand-made linen sheets with bor- 
 ders exquisitely drawn; two pairs of pillow cases to 
 match, and a quite wonderful old bedspread of knitted 
 lace. 
 
 "I can keep washing out the best towels for her," 
 Georgiana reflected resignedly as she counted her 
 resources. 
 
 In the china cupboard there was left quite a stock 
 of rare old plates and dishes which could be used as 
 occasion demanded. The blue-and-white crockery 
 which must serve a part of the time was pretty 
 
52 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 meagre, the supply of antique silver good as far as it 
 went; it did not go very far. 
 
 But — "After all," said Georgiana to herself 
 determinedly, "we can give her good things to eat, 
 and served as attractively as need be — why should I 
 mind about the rest? Father in his armchair is a 
 benediction to any meal, and Mr. Jefferson can talk as 
 few guests can who sit at the Crofton table, I'll wager. 
 I'll not be apologetic, even in my mind, no matter 
 how much I feel like it. I've asked her and she's 
 coming. She wouldn't be coming if she wasn't in a 
 way willing to take what she finds. We'll have a good 
 time out of it." 
 
 Whereupon she betook herself to the room which 
 was to be given to her cousin, and fell to work with a 
 will, for this was the last thing to be done before the 
 arrival of the guest. 
 
 When it was in order she looked about it, not ill 
 content. It would be an exacting guest, surely, who 
 could not be comfortable here — and there are many 
 guest-rooms of elaborate appointments where guests 
 are not wholly comfortable. This room was large 
 and square and airy, with its four windows facing 
 east and south, and the view from the eastern ones 
 was far-reaching, with a glimpse of blue mountain 
 ranges in the distance. If the matting upon the floor 
 had been many times turned and refitted, its worn 
 places were now all cunningly hidden and it was as 
 
SHABBINESS S3 
 
 fresh as the newly scrubbed paint on the woodwork. 
 There was a luxuriously cushioned, high-backed 
 chair — would Jeannette, by any possibility, recognize 
 the blue silk of those cushion covers ? Georgiana won- 
 dered. Jeannette, who never wore a frock long enough 
 really to become familiar with its pattern, would 
 only know that the cushions were soft to her comfort- 
 accustomed body. The woven rag rugs of blue and 
 white upon the floor were of Georgiana's own making. ' 
 An ancient desk, which had belonged to Mr. Warne's 
 mother, was carefully fitted with all the small articles 
 one could desire in reason, taken from Georpiana's 
 cherished college equipment. The washstand in the 
 corner, behind a home-made screen of clever design, 
 was furnished with two beautiful old blue-and-white 
 ewers — ^the pride of Georgiana's heart, for they had 
 come over from England with her great grandmother; 
 and the rack was hung as full with towels as fastidi- 
 ous bather could desire. There were two or three in- 
 teresting old prints upon the walls. Altogether, with 
 its small bedroom fireplace laid ready for a fire, and 
 a blue denim-covered woodbox filled to overflowing 
 
 with more wood 
 
 She had forgotten to fill the woodbox, as yet. It 
 was nearly time to dress for Jeannette's coming. 
 Georgiana ran hurriedly downstairs and through the 
 kitchen, warm and fragrant with the baking of the 
 day in preparation for the coming supper, and in that 
 
54 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 pleasant order which the kitchen of the good house- 
 wife shows at four in the afternoon. In the wood- 
 shed beyond she gathered a great armful of wood, 
 not to bother with the basket, which would not hold 
 so much — and hurried back again, making toward the 
 front stairs this time, because the back stairs were 
 narrow and steep, and one could not rush up them at 
 great speed with one's arms full of wood. 
 
 "Wait a minute, please. Miss Warne!" 
 
 The front door of the house shut with a bang, and 
 hasty footsteps caught up with Georgiana at the foot 
 of the stairs, just as one big stick tumbled loose from 
 her hold and went crashing down behind her. 
 
 "Oh, never mind," she panted. The load was 
 much heavier than she had realized, but she had not 
 meant to be caught upon the front stairs with it — not 
 even- if it had been James Stuart who came to her 
 rescue. 
 
 It was not Stuart, but evidently one quite of 
 Stuart's mind, for Georgiana now found her arms un- 
 burdened of their heavy incumbrance without further 
 parley, and herself put where she belonged by this 
 cool command: 
 
 "Never carry a load like this when you have a man 
 in the house." 
 
 "But — ^but we haven't!" objected Georgiana, her 
 voice a trifle breathless. She followed Mr. Jefferson, 
 as he strode up the stairs with the wood. She opened 
 
SHABBINESS 55 
 
 the door of the guest-room and Hfted the cover of the 
 woodbox. 
 
 "Haven't?" he questioned, dumping the wood into 
 the box, and then stooping to rearrange it. "Would 
 you object to telHng me what you consider me, 
 then?" 
 
 It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that he 
 was supposed to be a literary light, but she restrained 
 the too-familiar speech. 
 
 "You are, of course, a boarder — a 'paying guest,' 
 as we should say, if we were some people," she ob- 
 served with gravity. "You are expected to com- 
 plain of whatever service you receive, not to offer any 
 under any circumstances." 
 
 "I see. Were you intending to fill this box?" 
 
 He stood upright, and his glance wandered from 
 the box in question around the pleasant room in its 
 fresh and expectant order. But it came discreetly 
 back to Georgiana's face. 
 
 "Not at all," she denied. "There's quite enough 
 there for to-night." 
 
 He nodded, and went toward the door. "The 
 woodshed is, I suppose, beyond the kitchen, after the 
 fashion of woodsheds, and the kitchen is beyond the 
 dining-room ? " 
 
 "Please don't bother!" 
 
 Of course it was useless to protest — and she fol- 
 lowed him down the stairs, through dining-room and 
 
S6 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 kitchen to the woodshed. As he passed through thfe 
 kitchen he stopped and stood still in the middle 
 of it. 
 
 "May I look for a minute.?" he asked. "It takes 
 me back to my boyhood. My mother used just such 
 a kitchen as this. I thought it the best room in the 
 house." 
 
 His lips took on a smile as he looked. Georgiana, 
 with her own hands, had scoured every inch of that 
 kitchen, had made to shine brilliantly every utensil 
 which had in it possibilities of shining. It was im- 
 possible not to feel a housewifely pride in the appear- 
 ance of the place, and to exult in the spicy odoura 
 which told of the morning's bakings. 
 
 Mr. Jefferson, going on into the woodshed and re- 
 turning with a well-balanced load of wood which put 
 Georgiana's late attempt to the blush, assured her 
 that he felt personally competent to attend to the 
 woodbox without further aid from her, and marched 
 away as if he were quite accustomed to such tasks. 
 
 It may be here stated that next day, when in his 
 absence she looked into his room to see if the woodbox 
 there were quite empty, she found it quite full, 
 though she could not possibly remember when he had 
 discovered the opportunity to do the deed without 
 her knowledge. And from this time forth, during the 
 remainder of his stay, she was obliged to resign her- 
 self to the fact that the "man in the house," though 
 
SHABBINESS 57 
 
 he might be a boarder, would permit no interference 
 with this self-assumed task. 
 
 Jeannette had written that she would arrive on a 
 certain Thursday afternoon between four and five, 
 being conveyed by motor from the large city, sixty 
 miles away, which was her home. Georgiana, there- 
 fore, with memories of college days again strong upon 
 her, made ready to serve afternoon tea beside the 
 living-room fire. 
 
 "Be prepared to have this function every day while 
 the guest is here, Father Davy," said she. "Jean- 
 nette's undoubtedly accustomed to it and would miss 
 it more than she could miss any other one thing. But 
 she's to have only the plainest of thin bread and 
 butter with it, since our six-o'clock village supper 
 comes so soon after. We mustn't pamper her, must 
 we?" 
 
 Mr. Warne, in his armchair by the fireside, ready 
 to welcome the guest, looked up at his daughter with 
 bright eyes. "Pampering," said he, "is the atmos- 
 phere of this house. Jeannette cannot escape it, I 
 am pampered beyond belief every day of my life. At 
 this very moment my eyes are feasting upon the sight 
 of my child in what must be an absolutely new old 
 dress!" 
 
 A peculiar expression crossed Georgiana's face as 
 she glanced down at the soft gray-blue of the after- 
 noon frock she had donned fer the occasion. 
 
58 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 "I'm wondering if she will recognize it," she 
 murmured. "It was one of the white evening gowns 
 in that last 'Semi-Annual.' I coloured it myself — as 
 usual. It really came out pretty well, but it gives 
 me a queer, conscious feeling to be wearing it when I 
 meet her. Do you suppose she'll know it. Father 
 Davy?" 
 
 "And if she does ? " The tone was that of a tender 
 irony. 
 
 " I suppose I'm an idiot to care ! I don't care — but 
 J do ! " Georgiana flung a look at the slim man in the 
 big chair, which said that she was confident of his 
 understanding her, no matter what she said. 
 
 "No false pride, daughter," he warned her. "You 
 can tell the big man from the little one by the char- 
 acter of the things he is willing to accept. There was 
 never any stigma attached to wearing the discarded 
 garments of another, provided they were come by 
 honestly. And when one has coloured them, into the 
 bargain — and looks like the 'Portrait of a Lady* in 
 them " 
 
 "Father Davy, you're the most comforting crea- 
 ture!" And Georgiana dropped a kiss upon the top 
 of the head which rested against the back of the worn 
 old armchair. 
 
 If she had not been watching from the window she 
 would not have known when the Crofton car drew up 
 at the door, so quietly did the great, shining motor 
 
SHABBINESS 59 
 
 roll down the macadamized road which ran through 
 the main street of the Httle town. She was out and 
 down the manse path in hospitable alacrity, yet not 
 without the dignity of which she was mistress. 
 
 So this was the guest whom she had ventured to 
 ask down to the hospitality of the shabby old village 
 manse! If ^he had been a princess, Miss Jeannette 
 Crofton could not more thoroughly have looked the 
 part. Georgiana had known many rich men's daugh- 
 ters at college and had found close friends among 
 them, but no one of them had ever suggested such a 
 background of luxury as did this slim and graceful 
 girl, as she set her pretty foot upon the old box- 
 bordered gravel path. She was rather small of 
 stature, her fair-haired beauty was of a strikingly 
 attractive type, and every detail of her attire and 
 belongings breathed of wealth and fashion. Georgiana 
 felt herself instantly a buxom milkmaid beside her. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 WHEN ROYALTY COMES 
 
 r" WAS SO good of you to ask me," said Jeannette in 
 a voice of much sweetness, as she put out her hand 
 to her cousin. Then she turned to the man in livery 
 who stood at attention by the door of the car. "You 
 may take this coat back with you, Dennis," she said; 
 and she let him remove from her shoulders the long, 
 fur-lined cloak she had worn for the March drive. 
 He gathered together her belongings* as she walked 
 up the path with Georgiana, and he afterward went 
 back for a long motor trunk which had been brought 
 upon the back of the car. Besides this was a larger 
 receptacle of black leather which he brought and 
 deposited in the hall. 
 
 "Dennis can take all these to my room for me," 
 said Jeannette, with more appreciation of the situ- 
 ation than Georgiana had expected. Dennis did not 
 look altogether pleased with this task, but he per- 
 formed it and was rewarded by a smile from his 
 young mistress, which promised to soothe his injured 
 dignity at some future time. 
 
 Mr. Wame, rising slowly from the armchair as 
 
 60 
 
WHEN ROYALTY COMES 6i 
 
 Jeaitnette was brought into his presence, looked 
 keenly into the face of his sister's daughter. Her fine 
 clothing was nothing to him; he could not have told 
 what she wore; but he was interested in learning what 
 she might be, herself. It was something of a test for 
 any stranger, the meeting of that clear look of his, 
 kindly though it was sure to be. With all his ap- 
 pearance of frailty and exhaustion, one felt in- 
 stinctively that whatever had happened to the body, 
 the mind was intact and resolute with energy, the 
 judgment swift and accurate. 
 
 As they all took tea together Georgiana could feel 
 their guest striving to adjust herself to her entertain- 
 ers. Her manner was very charming, though a little 
 languid, a little weary, as if she were tired with her 
 long drive — and with other things besides. But there 
 was that about her which proclaimed her unmis- 
 takably the gentlewoman, and this was good to know. 
 She got on well with her newly discovered uncle, and 
 he with her. Indeed, the simplicity and straight- 
 forwardness of Father Davy's manner with every one, 
 his keen observation, his ready imagination, would 
 have put him instantly on an equal footing with the 
 most exalted of his fellow-creatures. It could do no 
 less with his niece, no matter how new to her his type 
 of man might be, nor how new to him the fashion of 
 her speech and smile. 
 
 This was a pleasant beginning. But if Georgiana, 
 
62 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 before her guest arrived, had thought the old house 
 shabby, she felt it now to be positively shambling. 
 She struggled mightily against this attitude of mind, 
 knowing that it was unworthy of her, but, as she led 
 this wonderful, winsome creature, whom she knew to 
 be accustomed only to the softnesses of life, up over 
 the worn stair carpeting to the room she had prepared 
 for her, she was wondering how she herself had ever 
 conceived the preposterous idea of inviting her cousin 
 to visit her; the task of making this daughter of 
 luxury comfortable, even for a fortnight, seemed sud- 
 denly so impossible* 
 
 "Oh, how very attractive!" exclaimed Jeannette, 
 as she was taken into the room over which Georgiana 
 had spent so much thought. "I shall love it here!" 
 
 That was to be her attitude, thought Georgiana. 
 Being exceedingly well-bred, the guest was prepared 
 to like everything that was done for her. Though 
 this was precisely what was to be expected and 
 desired, Georgiana found herself already irritated by 
 it — most unreasonably, it must be admitted. 
 
 "I'm a jealous goose!" said she sternly to herself, 
 and fell to helping her cousin. There was something 
 appealing about the girl's helplessness, because she 
 evidently tried hard not to show it. As the two 
 lifted the garments from the carefully packed trunk 
 trays it was Georgiana who found the right places for 
 them in clothespress and bureau drawers. She had 
 
WHEN ROYALTY COMES 63 
 
 seldom seen, never handled, such exquisite apparel, 
 from the piles of sheer, convent-embroidered linen to 
 the frocks and wraps and negliges which went into 
 retirement on the padded hangers she had provided. 
 She realized, too, that elaborate as seemed to her the 
 array of clothing Jeannette had thought it necessary 
 to bring for her visit, it was probable that the girl 
 herself had felt that she was having packed only the 
 simplest of her wardrobe and the least that a civilized 
 being could do with. 
 
 It was when Jeannette herself spread forth upon 
 the little dressing-table — cleverly contrived out of an 
 old washstand, a long and narrow mirror, and some 
 odds and ends of muslin and lace — the articles she 
 was accustomed to use every day of her life, but which 
 might have been matched only in the homes of 
 princes, that the young hostess found it hardest to 
 control the pang of envy which smote her. Such 
 silver, such crystal, such genuine ivory — and such 
 sheer beauty of design and finish! Yet Jeannette 
 was almost awkward in her disposal of the imposing 
 array, saying with a laugh that she really couldn't 
 remember how the things went at home, but that it 
 didn't matter in the least. 
 
 She set about removing her traveling clothes as if 
 she never had been waited upon in her life. It was 
 only when she failed to discover how she was put to- 
 gether that Georgiana had to come to the rescue. 
 
64 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 "It's dreadfully stupid of me," protested Jean- 
 nette, her delicate cheeks flushing, "but I simply 
 can't find that absurd hook." 
 
 Itwas then thatGeorgiana frankly took the situation 
 by its horns and did away with all embarrassment. 
 
 "You must let me help you, Jean," she said, 
 finishing the unhooking with ease, "whenever you 
 need it. I shall love to do it, for you might have 
 rather a bad time trying to do everything for your- 
 self. There you are — and please call me when you 
 are ready to be fastened into your other frock. I'm 
 just around the comer, and there's nobody else at 
 home now." 
 
 Before supper was served, Georgiana prepared her 
 cousin to meet "the boarder." Not on any account 
 would she have let his presence be accounted for on 
 the score of his being a guest in the house; not even 
 would she call him a "paying guest." 
 
 "Mr. Jefferson came to us through a letter from a 
 friend. He said he wanted a quiet place to work in, 
 away from all interruptions by friends or claims of 
 juiy sort. He is writing a book, and we see as little of 
 him as if he were not in the house — except at the 
 table. I think you will like him. It's so long since 
 we have had a man in the house we're not yet used 
 to it, but on the whole it's rather comforting." 
 
 "How interesting — ^to have a book being written in 
 the house! Is it fact or fiction, do you know?" 
 
WHEN ROYALTY COMES 65 
 
 "I don't imagine it's fiction. He has piles of 
 reference books, and a great deal of mail, and — some- 
 how — he doesn't look as if he wrote fiction." 
 
 Yet, as Mr. Jefferson came into the dining-room 
 that night, Georgiana found herself wondering why 
 she should think he did not look as if he would write 
 fiction — not foolish fiction, certainly, but sensible 
 fiction, made possible by keen observation and set 
 off by a capacity for quiet — possibly even biting — ■ 
 humour. He looked at least as if he might write 
 essays, thoughtful, clever essays, full of searching 
 analyses of his fellow human creatures, of their odd- 
 ities, their hopes, their aspirations, their sins, and their 
 virtues. Or — ^was he, after all, writing on scientific 
 matters — facts, pure and simple; inferences, de- 
 ductions, conclusions from facts? She wondered, 
 more than she had yet done, as to the nature of his 
 work. 
 
 "I think Mr. Jefferson is delightful," said Jean- 
 nette cordially, beside the living-room fire, when 
 supper was over, and the boarder, after lingering in 
 the living-room doorway for a minute, but declining 
 on the score of work Mr. Warne's invitation to enter, 
 had gone his way upstairs. On this first night 
 Georgiana had let the disordered dining table wait, 
 and had accompanied the others to the fireside as if 
 she had a dozen servants to attend to her household 
 affairs. "After this, she won't notice so much," she 
 
66 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 had argued with herself. "I don't want to have her 
 offering to help. I don't mean to do a thing difFer- 
 ently on her account, but I can't help — ^well, shying at 
 the dishes the very first minute after supper!" 
 
 "A man of fine intellect," Father Davy responded 
 to his niece's observation, "and accustomed to think 
 worthy thoughts. One can see that at once. It is a 
 real pleasure to have him here. It is good for us, 
 too. Georgiana and I were growing narrow before 
 he came. He has broadened us; we get his point of 
 view on subjects that we thought had been disposed 
 of for all time — and find them not disposed of at 
 all." 
 
 Before the moment arrived when, in Georgiana's 
 mind, the waiting work in the kitchen must be done 
 without further postponement, the front door was 
 besieged by James Stuart. A basket of late winter 
 apples in hand, he came in, looking the image of 
 vigorous youth, his well-set-up figure showing its best 
 in the irreproachable clothes he always wore when his 
 day's work was over, his manner, as usual, that of the 
 friend of the house. He had not received Georgiana's 
 permission to come in upon this first evening of 
 Miss Crofton's visit, but he had taken his welcome 
 for granted and was not disappointed in receiving it. 
 It was impossible not to be glad to see his smiling 
 face, for his good looks were backed by a capacity for 
 adapting himself to whatever company he might find 
 
WHEN ROYALTY COMES 67 
 
 himself in, though it should be of the most distin- 
 guished. 
 
 Presenting Stuart to her cousin, it occurred to 
 Georgiana to wonder as to the impression each must 
 make upon the other. Jeannette was wearing a frock 
 of a pecuHar shade of blue which the firelight and 
 lamplight, instead of dulHng, seemed to make almost 
 to glow. It was the sort of apparently simple attire 
 which is the product of high art, and in it, sitting just 
 where all lights seemed to play together upon hai/" 
 and cheek and perfect throat, the visitor was, as 
 Georgiana owned to herself, certainly worth looking 
 at. 
 
 She left them together presently and went off to 
 the kitchen. Here she covered from view with a big 
 pinafore her own undeniably attractive figure and 
 fell upon her task, proceeding to dispatch it with aii 
 the speed compatible with quiet. She had cleared 
 the table, and, having arranged her dishes in orderly 
 piles, was just filling her dishpan with the steaming 
 water which made suds as it fell upon the soap, when 
 a familiar footstep was heard upon the bare kitchen 
 floor. 
 
 Georgiana looked over her shoulder, words of 
 reproof upon her Jips: "Well — having come without 
 an invitation, the least you can do is to stay where 
 you belong and entertain the guest," 
 
 ** There's a characteristic welcome for you!" The 
 
68' UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 intruder seemed in no wise daunted by his reception, 
 but picked up a dish towel and stood at ease, waiting 
 the placing of the first tumbler in the rinsing pan. 
 "And where should I belong, if not standing by a 
 chum in distress?" 
 
 "I'm not in distress, if you please." 
 
 "Don't mind washing dishes while the guest sits 
 by the fire?" 
 
 "Not a bit — more than usual," Georgiana amended 
 honestly. 
 
 "Why don't you pile 'em up and let 'em wait till 
 morning?" 
 
 "I shouldn't sleep for thinking of them." 
 
 '*My word, but you're a hustler! I don't know 
 whether I can keep up." 
 
 "Don't try. Go back to the other room, please, 
 Jimps. You can be of real use there." 
 
 "Well, I hke that!" 
 
 As he wiped away assiduously, Stuart surveyed his 
 companion's face in profile. It belied the dictatorial 
 words, for Georgiana was smiling. Her cheeks were 
 of a splendid colour, her dark hair drooped over the 
 prettiest white forehead in the world, and the whole 
 outline of her face was distracting. Here was a lamp- 
 light effect which rivalled the one in the living-room, 
 though it was thrown from a common kitchen lamp, 
 unshaded, and fell upon a figure in a red-and-white 
 checked apron. Georgiana glanced at her self- 
 
WHEN ROYALTY COMES 6$ 
 
 appointed assistant and encountered the flash of an 
 eye which told her that, however Stuart objected to 
 her words, he Uked the look of what he saw. 
 
 "Isn't Jeanhette a beauty?" she inquired hastily, 
 and plunged her hands into her pan with such energy 
 that she sent a splash of hot, soapy water upon 
 Stuart's cheek. He surreptitiously wiped it off with a 
 corner of his dish towel. 
 
 "She sure is," he assented cordially. "I wasn't 
 prepared for quite such a looker. She doesn't seem 
 to have brought with her that proud and haughty ex- 
 pression she had in the Sunday papers." 
 
 "She's a dear, and not in the least proud and 
 haughty. I'm going to enjoy her visit, I know. If I 
 can only make her enjoy it ! " 
 
 "I'll be glad to help," Stuart offered. "This isn't 
 a very promising time of year for the country, but if 
 you think she'd like any of the good times we can give 
 her here, I'll get them up." 
 
 "Our sort of good times is just what I do want to 
 give her. She's had enough of her own kind and 
 needs the diversion. What would you get up, for 
 instance ? " 
 
 "I'll take overnight to think it out, but I can 
 promise you it'll be an outdoor affair. Would she 
 be up to any kind of a tramp, do you think?" 
 
 "Oh, no, Jimps! Not yet, at any rate." 
 
 "All right. I'll harness up my best team and 
 
70 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 carry her most of the way. We must have another 
 man, I suppose. Shall we ask the literary light, just 
 for a lark? It would give tone to the company to 
 have him along, eh?" 
 
 "He probably wouldn't go." 
 
 "Don't you fool yourself. A fellow who covers as 
 many miles a day as he does will jump at it, no matter 
 how important his next chapter is. Do you know, 
 I'll have to admit I rather like him since I tramped 
 a couple of miles in his company the other day. There 
 are a lot of interesting ideas in his head, and I got 
 him to give me the benefit of a few of them. Drew 
 him out, you know. Though to be strictly honest"—* 
 with a laugh — "when I thought it over afterward I 
 wasn't exactly sure that he hadn't drawn me out 
 rather more than I drew him. Anyhow, the interest 
 seemed to be mutual, and that flattered me a bit. 
 It's perfectly evident that he's a great student of 
 alFairs." 
 
 They finished the work at a gallop. Georgiana 
 slipped off her pinafore, and Stuart, who had in- 
 sisted on waiting for her, hung it upon its accustomed 
 nail. 
 
 "Do you suppose pretty cousin ever wore one?" he 
 queried. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 SNOWBALLS 
 
 MR. E. C. JEFFERSON laid down his pen, ran 
 his hand through his heavy brown hair, rum- 
 pling it still more than it had been rumpled before — 
 which is saying considerable — and stretched his legs 
 under the table upon which he had been writing 
 steadily since half-past one o'clock. He heaved a 
 mighty breath, stretched his arms to match his legs, 
 looked round at his windows, which faced the west, 
 and so had kept him supplied with strong light longer 
 than windows on any other side of the house would 
 have done, and took out his watch. 
 
 Nearly half-past four. Time, and more than time, 
 for his late afternoon tramp. He set the piles of 
 sheets before him in order, sheathed his pen and put 
 it in his pocket, and rose from his place, the light of 
 achievement in his eye, but crampiness and fatigue 
 in all his limbs. 
 
 As he approached his windows to ascertain what 
 kind of weather was to be found outside, he became 
 aware of sounds which would indicate that some 
 event of activity and hilarity was going on below. He 
 
 71 
 
72 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 realized now that he had been hearing these sounds — ■ 
 quite without hearing them, after the fashion of the 
 absorbed workman — for the last half-hour. Looking 
 out, he beheld an interesting affair in full swing. 
 
 At each end of the side yard the heavy snow which 
 a late March storm had brought overnight had been 
 shovelled and manipulated into the semblance of a 
 fort such as lads are wont to make. Between these 
 two entrenchments a battle was raging. But it was 
 no lads who held the places of the combatants. 
 Instead, as he looked, Mr. Jefferson saw rising warily 
 from behind the fort nearest him, a girlish figure in a 
 scarlet blanket suit, its dark head half shielded by a 
 scarlet toboggan cap very much awry. A mittened 
 hand flung a snowball with strength and precision 
 straight into the opposite fort, and the assailant im- 
 mediately dodged down behind the embankment. 
 
 From the opposing stronghold then cautiously 
 appeared a head snugly bound in a blue scarf, from 
 which locks of fair hair escaped at divers points. A 
 second snowball, accompanied by a loose flutter of 
 snow, wended its way uncertainly through the air, 
 and fell a foot short of the fort behind which crouched 
 the scarlet figure. The figure immediately rose and 
 fired an answering volley. Peals of laughter and gay 
 shouts rang through the air. 
 
 At this very moment a third person ran into 
 the yard from the street, calling: "For shame, 
 
SNOWBALLS 73 
 
 George! I'm going to take sides with the enemy, and 
 we'll have you out in no time!" 
 
 Jefferson saw this third figure, in sweater and cap, 
 dash across the open, narrowly escaping a vigorous 
 shower of missiles from the near fort, and disappear 
 behind the farther one. 
 
 The battle was now on in earnest. Let Scarlet 
 Toboggan fire as fast and as furiously as she might, a 
 merciless bombardment of her protecting walls had 
 begun. The girl in the blue scarf — and priceless furs 
 — had sunk laughing upon the floor of her refuge, 
 while her new ally, bringing to bear the full strength 
 and skill of his sex, battered at the entrenchments 
 across the yard, and began to make havoc thereon. 
 
 Georgiana was a brave foe, but though she fought 
 with surprising endurance she was beginning to be 
 seriously worsted, several feet of her snow rampart 
 having been shot away, when a voice behind her cried 
 out a command, and an arm, more sinewy than hers, 
 sent a hard shot whizzing past her head into the 
 opposite fort with that directness of aim and efi^ective- 
 ness of delivery which only the male arm can accom- 
 plish. 
 
 "Duck down and make snowballs while I fire!" the 
 voice ordered, and Georgiana, breathless but still un- 
 daunted, obeyed. 
 
 " Keep behind me, and pile the balls at the right," 
 directeJ Jefferson. His voice was eager as a boy's. 
 
74 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 He also had pulled on sweater and cap, and as he and 
 James Stuart faced each other across the twenty 
 yards which separated them, they might have been a 
 couple of school-fellows wrestling for supremacy. 
 
 "Keep 'em coming — faster — faster!" Stuart urged 
 Jeannette, the lust of battle upon him. "Stop 
 laughing and work! George is a" — he stooped to 
 make a ball for himself — "fiend at making 'em; 
 you've got to learn! Keep 'em coming." 
 
 The wet snow was precisely in the right state for 
 quick packing, and Georgiana was indeed an expert 
 at the business. Jefferson found her hard, round 
 balls splendid missiles, and he used them with all the 
 energy of an arm which welcomed the change from the 
 labours of the past hours to those of the present. 
 
 "Ha! there goes that left comer!" he exulted with 
 his comrade-at-arms, as the last of a series of well- 
 directed shots reduced a part of the enemies' defences 
 to a gratifying slump. "And here comes a bit of 
 ours," he added, as a ball of Stuart's ploughed through 
 a weakened upper portion of their own rampart. 
 
 "He'll be game to the last," panted Georgiana, 
 working furiously. 
 
 " So will we! We'll fight to a finish, if we go with- 
 out our suppers." 
 
 The battle raged on. The combatants took no 
 heed of passing time, until Jeannette, growing reck* 
 less with excitement, lifted an incautious head and re- 
 
SNOWBALLS 75 
 
 ceived a spent ball full upon her chin. No harm was 
 done, as she protested, but Stuart raised a flag of truce 
 and Mr. Jefferson ran across the lines to apologize. 
 
 "It didn't hurt a bit," Jeannette reaffirmed, 
 showing a very pink chin. 
 
 "It's lucky it didn't. I wasn't properly protecting 
 you," Stuart declared warmly. 
 
 "Both sides come in to supper!" commanded 
 Georgiana. "Please stay, Jimps; it's the only 
 amends we can make you, and you must be as 
 hungry as a bear." 
 
 "Thanks; I'd like to, but I'm not properly dressed, 
 I'm afraid." 
 
 "Jean and I won't make a change, and you can 
 take us coasting this evening, if you will. Do you 
 suppose Mr. Jefferson would dream of staving off his 
 dignity a bit longer and going, too?" 
 
 They all looked at the person mentioned and their 
 glances were all gayly audacious. 
 
 " Is that an invitation or a challenge ? " He put it to 
 Georgiana. 
 
 "Whichever you choose to take it." 
 
 "I'll take it as I choose, then, and accept. The 
 spirit of sport is upon me; I couldn't work this eve- 
 ning if I tried." 
 
 "Good for you! 'All work and no play,' you know," 
 quoted Stuart, as they went in together, a moist and 
 merry company. 
 
^e UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 Upstairs, while Jeannette dried her hair, she re- 
 flected that she didn't know when she had had so gay 
 a time. She ran in to say this to Georgiana, but 
 found that that young woman had already put her 
 hair in order without drying it, as its damply curling 
 locks above her forehead testified, and was rushing 
 away downstairs to the kitchen. 
 
 "Won't you take cold?" suggested Jeannette, 
 struggling with her own wet braids, and very naturally 
 wishing for her maid to dry and put them in order. 
 
 "Mercy, no; not over the kitchen stove. They'll 
 be dry soon enough," was the reply; and Georgiana 
 vanished, the supper on her mind. 
 
 When Jeannette came down, half an hour later, 
 and appeared in the kitchen doorway, she saw that 
 the speed of her young hostess's labours and the 
 warmth of the kitchen were quite likely to prevent all 
 chance of undried locks. 
 
 There was system about Georgiana's work, fast as 
 was its pace. Each trip across the floor, from pantry 
 to dining-room and back again, demonstrated house- 
 wifely efiiciency. Both hands were always full and she 
 seemed never to forget what she meant to do. If she 
 passed the stove on her way somewhere she stopped 
 to stir something or to glance into the oven, and when 
 she went to the storeroom for cream she brought 
 away bread and butter as well. 
 
 Jeannette commented admiringly. "Don't you 
 
SNOWBALLS 77 
 
 ever forget and have to run back for something?" 
 she inquired. 
 
 "Goodness, yes! But when you've been over 
 certain ground several million times, it's a pity if 
 you can't make your head save your heels as a rule. 
 Excuse me, dear; but if you wouldn't mind standing 
 just a foot or two to the left " 
 
 Jeannette turned. "I see; I'm in the way when 
 I'd like so much to help. Isn't there anything I 
 could do?" 
 
 "All done, thank you — except — ^would you just ar- 
 range that boxful of scarlet geraniums Jimps brought 
 over, for the table? That would help very much. 
 Take any bowl or glass from the dining-room cup- 
 board that looks appropriate to you." 
 
 "I'd love to." And Jeannette fell to work — if it 
 could be called work. Never in her life had she 
 arranged scarlet geraniums as a table decoration, or, 
 for that matter, seen them so used. But as she 
 placed the splendid, thrifty blooms, each with its ac- 
 companying rich green leaves, in the plain brown bowl 
 which she felt best matched their undistinguished 
 beauty, she discovered for the first time that other 
 blossoms besides roses and orchids, chrysanthemums, 
 and the rest of the ordinary florists' products, may 
 charm the eye from the centre of a snowy cloth. 
 
 ["That's gorgeous! Thank you so much! Aren't 
 they the jolliest flowers in the world for a winter night ? 
 
78 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 Jimps*s greenhouses certainly are doing well. Don't 
 you want a bit of a blossom in your hair? Their 
 grower would feel tremendously complimented." 
 
 "Red's not my colour, but it is yours. Let me 
 tuck this little sprig in these braids, and I'll risk the 
 grower's being better pleased than if I wore them." 
 
 Georgiana submitted, and promptly forgot all 
 about the scarlet decoration. But the others did not 
 — found forgetting it, indeed, quite impossible. As 
 they gathered about the table, it caught the eye of 
 each in turn. Georgiana's cheeks, from the vigorous 
 exercise in the frosty air, were glowing brilliantly; her 
 eyes were wonderful to look at; her dark cloth dress 
 had upon it no relief of colour; so the scarlet geranium 
 in her hair was the touch of the artist which drew the 
 eye and held it. She had placed upon the table, in- 
 stead of the customary lamp, one of the few treasures 
 of the house, a fine old candelabrum, with pendent 
 crystals, and the burning candles threw their mellow 
 light directly into her face. 
 
 She looked up suddenly, after having served each 
 one from the dish before her, and found them all 
 looking at her. James Stuart's fork was suspended 
 above his plate, but the others had not yet taken 
 theirs. She gazed at them in amazement. 
 
 "Why, what is the matter?" she cried. "Do I — 
 is something queer about me? Have I missed a 
 point somebody has made?" 
 
SNOWBALLS 79 
 
 They all turned then, laughing, to their plates, and 
 nobody would tell her what was wrong. Stuart 
 seemed to think it a great joke — her mystification. 
 When she removed the plates for the second course — 
 there were but two in the simple, hearty little supper 
 — she glanced into the small kitchen mirror. Her 
 eye caught the scarlet geranium. 
 
 "I suppose I look ridiculously sentimental with 
 that flower just there," she thought. "But I won't 
 take it out after Jean put it there. No wonder they 
 laughed." 
 
 An hour afterward they were all out upon the hill 
 nearby. Stuart possessed a splendid pair of "bobs," 
 and they were soon dashing down the hill at a pace 
 which, while it made Jeannette hold her breath with 
 mingled fear and joy, made Georgiana cry out, "Oh! 
 is there anything so glorious ? " and made Mr. Jeffer- 
 son, just behind her, watching over her shoulder, re- 
 spond with heartiness: "The snow fight took five 
 years off my age, and now here goes another five. I 
 must be almost as young as youare now,Miss Warne." 
 
 "Oh, no; I'm only ten myself to-night," she an- 
 swered. "Coasting was one of my earliest joys. I 
 was so proud when I could steer Jimps Stuart's first 
 pair of bobs — small and primitive ones compared with 
 these." 
 
 She found Mr. Jefferson beside her when it came 
 to the walk back up the hill. A new side of him was 
 
So UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 visible to-night. He was not the quiet student and 
 writer, the man who discussed with her father and 
 herself the courseof the world's events or the problems 
 of social service, but a light-hearted boy, much like 
 Stuart, and ready to abet all the other man's efforts 
 for the amusement of the party. 
 
 The fun went on for an hour; then Jeannette, un- 
 accustomed to so much vigorous exercise, began quite 
 against her will to show evidences of fatigue, and 
 after one particularly long, swift flight the party 
 went back to the house. There followed another gay 
 hour before the fire, while Stuart roasted chestnuts, 
 and Georgiana, sitting on the floor against her 
 father's knee, told stories of madcap pranks at 
 college, illustrating them by such changes of facial 
 expression and such significant gestures that her 
 hearers spent themselves with their laughter. 
 
 Jeannette, lying back in a shabby but comfortable 
 old armchair, looked and listened with the absorbed 
 interest of one to whom such simple pleasures as these 
 had the flavour of absolute novelty. Her eyes 
 wandered from Georgiana's vivid face to her father's 
 delicate one; to James Stuart's comely features 
 glowing ruddily in the firelight as he tended his 
 chestnuts, showing splendid white teeth as he roared 
 at Georgiana's clever mimicry or turned to laugh into 
 Jeannette's eyes as he oflFered her a particularly 
 plump and succulently bursting specimen of his 
 
SNOWBALLS 8i 
 
 labours; to Mr. Jefferson's maturer personality, his 
 brown eyes keenly intent, his face lighted with enjoy- 
 ment, his occasional comments on Georgiana's ad- 
 ventures flashing with a dry humour which matched 
 hers and sometimes quite outdid it. To Jeannette 
 they were all an engrossing study. As for herself 
 
 "She's the loveliest thing I ever saw," thought 
 Georgiana from time to time as she glanced up at her 
 cousin, whose fair hair against the dark cushion of 
 the old chair caught and held the charm of the fire's 
 own warmth in its gleaming strands. Jeannette's 
 eyes were matchless by lamplight; her cheeks and lips 
 were glowing from the outdoor life of the day and 
 evening; her smile was a thing to imprison hearts and 
 hold them fast. If she spoke little no one thought of 
 her as silent, and the charm of her low laughter at the 
 sallies of the others was the sheerest flattery, it was so 
 evidently born of genuine delight in the cleverness she 
 did not attempt to emulate. 
 
 "I'm a clown beside her," said Georgiana to her- 
 self. "Who cares how a woman talks when she looks 
 like that? Every line of her is absolute grace and 
 beauty, every turn of her head is fascination itself. 
 I never saw such eyes. That little twist in the corner 
 of her lip when she smiles is the most delicious thing 
 I ever saw. Jimps looks at it forty times in every 
 five minutes and I can't blame him. Mr. Jeff'erson 
 keeps his chair facing that way so he can have her all 
 
82 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 the time in focus, though he doesn't eat her up as 
 Jimps does. I can't blame either of them. And I 
 shall go on being a clown, because that's what I can 
 do and it amuses them. If I should lie back in a 
 chair like that and just smile without saying any- 
 thing. Father Davy would say, * Daughter, don't you 
 feel quite well?' and Jimps would propose getting me 
 a cup of tea. Oh, well — how absurd of me to mind 
 because another girl looks like a picture by a wonder- - 
 ful painter while I look like — a lurid lithograph by 
 nobody at all!" 
 
 Whereupon she set her strong, white teeth into a 
 hot, roasted chestnut, cracked it, and, regarding the 
 halves, said: "This reminds me of the night Prexy 
 lost his head" — and brought down the house with 
 the merriest tale of all. It was so irresistibly absurd 
 that Jeannette, helpless with her mirth, buried her 
 face in her cobweb handkerchief, Stuart rocked upon 
 his knees and made the welkin ring, and Mr. Jefferson 
 laughed in a growling bass that gathered volume as 
 the preposterousness of the situation grew upon him 
 with consideration of it. Even Mr. Wan>e, whose 
 expressions of amusement were usually noiseless, gave 
 way to soft little chuckles of appreciation, and wiped 
 his tear-filled eyes. 
 
 Georgiana, finishing her chestnut, looked upon 
 them all and told them they were the most gratifying 
 audience she had ever addressed, but that she feared 
 
SNOWBALLS 83 
 
 it was not good for them to give way to their emotions 
 so unrestrainedly, and that she should therefore not 
 open her lips again that night. As they found it im- 
 possible to break down this resolution, even with en- 
 treaties backed by offerings of worldly goods, the 
 party broke up. Georgiana carried ofFher guest to put 
 her to bed with her own handsi while Mr. Jefferson 
 and James Stuart smoked a bedtime pipe together in 
 the boarder's room; after which Stuart let himself 
 quietly out of a door that was never locked, to reflect, 
 as he tramped homeward over the snow, on what an 
 inordinately jolly evening it had been. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 SOAPSUDS 
 
 WILL you think I'm dreadful, Georgiana dear," 
 asked Jeannette, lying luxuriously back upon 
 her pillow while her cousin sat braiding her own thick 
 locks by the little bedroom fireplace in which the last 
 remnants of the fire were smouldering, "if I say I 
 shouldn't have believed I could possibly have such a 
 good time in such a way ? I never did anything the 
 least bit like it." 
 
 "Never coasted?" 
 
 "Never." 
 
 "Never threw snowballs?" 
 
 "Not that I can remember." 
 
 "Nor roasted chestnuts?" 
 
 "I never tasted one before — except perhaps in the 
 stufiing of a fowl." 
 
 "Poor child! But at least you've sat by the fire 
 with other girls and men and told stories, little Jean ? " 
 
 The guest considered. "Of course — at house par- 
 ties. Yet I can't seem to recall any such scene as 
 the one we just left, down by your fire. I certainly 
 never sat on the floor with my arm on my father's 
 
 84 
 
SOAPSUDS 85 
 
 knee, with a group of people around, wTiile some- 
 body told stories — sure not such stories as you told. 
 Oh, you're the cleverest girl I ever knew, to tell such 
 things in such a way! It was perfectly splendid! 
 How those two men did enjoy it! I don't know 
 when I've heard men laugh in just that way." 
 
 "Just what way ? Please tell me how they laughed 
 differently from other men. To be sure, Jimps just 
 lets go when he's amused and raises the rafters with 
 his howls of glee; but so do other young men of his 
 age. And certainly Mr. Jefferson laughed decorously 
 enough." 
 
 "Yes, but it was so whole-souled with both of thenl; 
 •and yet there wasn't a thing in your stories but — oh, I 
 *?an't tell you just what I mean, if you^on't know. 
 But somehow it all struck me so differently from 
 the way any girl-and-man evening ever struck me 
 before. There — ^there seems a different air to breathe 
 here — if that expresses it — from any I've ever been 
 in." 
 
 The two regarded each other, Jeannette from be- 
 tween half-closed, deeply fringed eyelids as she lay 
 back upon her pillows, one arm, half veiled with the 
 finest of linen and lace, outstretched upon the 
 treasured old-time counterpane, the other beneath 
 her neck; Georgiana sitting up straight, with two 
 long, dark braids hanging over her shoulders, her 
 dusky eyes wide open, her cheeks still bright with 
 
86 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 colour balanced by the scarlet hue of the loose gar- 
 ment she had put on. 
 
 "I've nodoubtthere is," agreed Georglana thought- 
 fully. "Still, though you live a very different life 
 from any I've ever known, I didn't suppose your 
 education in the matter of roast chestnuts — and the 
 things that go with them — had been quite so badly 
 neglected. To think of never having had them except 
 so disguised by the manipulations of a French chef that 
 you couldn't recognize them! And to have gone to 
 balls and horse shows and polo games — and never to 
 have built a snow fort! Dear, dear, what we have to 
 teach you! Life hasn't been really fair to you, has 
 it, my dear?" 
 
 This was sheer audacity, from a poor girl to a rich 
 one, but it was charming audacity none the less and 
 by no means wholly ironic. To Jeannette, study- 
 ing her cousin with eyes which were envious of the 
 physical superiority for lack of which no training in 
 the social arts or mere ability to purchase the aid of 
 dressmaker and milliner could possibly atone, con- 
 scious that Georgiana possessed a mind far keener and 
 better trained than her own, the question called for a 
 serious answer. She half sat up and pushed her 
 pillow into a soft mountain behind her as she spoke: 
 
 "No, it hasn't! I thought so before I came here 
 and now I'm sure of it. I feel a weak and helpless 
 creature beside you — helpless in every way. I can't 
 
SOAPSUDS 87 
 
 do anything you can. If my father should lose his 
 money and I should be thrown upon my own re- 
 sources, I shouldn't be able to make so much as a — 
 snowball for myself!" 
 
 Both laughed in spite of Jeannette's earnestness, 
 for the words brought back vivid memories of the 
 wild sport of the afternoon. Then Georgiana's ready 
 brain leaped to the inevitable corollary: 
 
 "Ah, but there'd be sure to be a man ready to dash 
 into your fort and make your snowballs for you!" 
 
 "I'm not so sure." 
 1 am. 
 
 "Of course the men I know don't seem to mind 
 whether a girl is helpless or not, if she can look and 
 act the way they want her to. But — I'm discovering 
 that there are other kinds of men, and somehow I like 
 this new kind. And I imagine this kind wouldn't 
 care for helpless girls. You made snowballs for your 
 man to throw, and they were good hard ones, as my 
 chin can still testify." 
 
 "You can learn to make hard snowballs,'' said 
 Georgiana, smiling. 
 
 Jeannette held up one beautifully modelled but 
 undeniably slender arm and clasped it with her hand. 
 "Soft as " She paused for a simile. 
 
 "Sponge cake," supplied Georgiana, coming over 
 to feel critically of the extended arm. " It is pretty 
 spongy. It needs exercise with a punchball or" — 
 
88 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 she flashed a mischievous glance at the languid form 
 beside her — "a batch of bread dough." 
 
 " Bread dough ! Would that help it ? " 
 
 "Rather! So would sweeping, and scrubbing, and 
 moving furniture about. But you're born to a life of 
 ease, my dear, so those things are out of the question 
 for you. But fencing lessons would be good for you 
 — and fashionable, too, which would double their 
 value, of course." 
 
 "Georgiana!" Jeannette sat straight up and laid 
 two coaxing arms about her cousin's firmly moulded 
 neck. "Teach me to make bread, will you, while 
 I'm here?" 
 
 "Oh, good gracious!" Georgiana threw back her 
 head to laugh. "Hear the child ! What good would 
 that do, if you learned ? You wouldn't do it when 
 you went back." 
 
 "I would! — Well, of course, I might have difiiculty 
 in — but mother wants me to be strong; she's always 
 fussing about it because I can't endure the round 
 of society things she says any girl ought to — and 
 enjoy. If you thought bread-making would really 
 help " 
 
 "It would be a drop in the bucket of exercise you 
 ought to take." 
 
 "Nevertheless, I want to learn," persisted Jean- 
 nette as Georgiana moved away, evidently with the 
 intention of leaving her for the night. "I'd like to 
 
SOAPSUDS 89 
 
 feel I knew how. And your bread is the most de- 
 licious I ever tasted. Please!" 
 
 "Oh, very well; I'll teach you with pleasure. I 
 shall be setting bread sponge at six to-morrow morn- 
 ing. Will you be down?" Georgiana's smile was 
 distinctly wicked. 
 
 "Six o'clock!" There was a look of mingled in- 
 credulity and horror in the lovely face on the pillow. 
 "But — does bread — does bread have to be made so 
 early?" 
 
 "Absolutely. After the morning dew is off the 
 grass, bread becomes heavy." 
 
 Jeannette stared into the mocking eyes of her 
 cousin; then she laughed. "Oh, I see. You're 
 testing me. Well, " — ^with a stifled sigh — " I'll get up 
 if you'll call me. I'm afraid I should never wake my- 
 self — especially after all that snowballing " 
 
 "Exactly. And I'll not call you. So lie still in 
 your nest, ladybird, and don't bother your pretty 
 head about bread sponges. What's the use? You'll 
 never need to know, and you'll soon forget having 
 had even a faint desire toward knowledge. Good- 
 night — and sleep sweetly." 
 
 "Oh, but wait! I'm really serious. Please call me ! " 
 
 "Never!" 
 
 With one laughing backward look and with a 
 kiss waved toward the slender figure now sit- 
 ting up in bed, Georgiana opened the door and 
 
90 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 fled. That she did not want to teach her cousin an 
 earthly thing, even if she could have believed Jean- 
 nette serious in her request, was momentarily growing 
 more evident to her own consciousness. Just why, 
 she might have been unwilling to explain. 
 
 Next morning, however, she found herself destined 
 to carry out the plan Jeannette had so impulsively 
 proposed. She crept downstairs as quietly as the 
 creaking boards under the worn stair carpet would 
 permit, and began her work in a whirl of haste. But 
 she had not more than assembled her ingredients on 
 the scrupulously scoured top of the old pine table 
 when she heard the kitchen door softly open. Wheel- 
 ing, she beheld a vision which brought a boyish 
 whistle to her lips. 
 
 Jeannette, enveloped in a long silken garment 
 evidently thrown on over her night attire, a little cap 
 of lace and ribbon confining her hair, the most im- 
 practical of slippers on her feet, stood smiling at her 
 cousin, sleep still clinging to her eyelids. 
 
 "I'm down," she announced in triumph. 
 
 "So I see. But you're not up," replied Georgiana, 
 regarding the vision with critical eyes. 
 
 Jeannette's gaze left the trim morning garb of the 
 young cook, her perfectly arranged hair, her whole 
 aspect of efficiency, and dropped to her own highly 
 inappropriate attire, and she flushed a little. But 
 she held her ground. 
 
SOAPSUDS 91 
 
 "You didn't call me, and when I woke it was so 
 near six I didn't daie wait to dress. Can't I learn 
 unless I'm dressed like you?" 
 
 "If a French doll had come to life and offered to 
 help me in the kitchen I couldn't feel more stunned. 
 What will happen to all those floating ends of lace and 
 ribbon, when they get mixed with flour and yeast? 
 Be sensible, child, and go back to bed." 
 
 "I'll pin everything out of the way, and perhaps 
 you'll lend me an apron. I really don't want to 
 bother you, Georgiana, but I do want to learn." 
 
 Georgiana relented. "Very well. Come here, 
 and I'll cover you up as best I can. Or I'll wait while 
 you run up and dress — if you've anything to put on 
 that's fit for bread-making." 
 
 "Nothing much fitter than this, I'm afraid," 
 admitted Jeannette reluctantly. 
 
 "Poor little girl!" Georgiana's momentary irrita- 
 tion was gone, as it usually was, in no time at all. 
 "Well, here go the frills under a nice big gingham all- 
 over; and now you look like a combination of Sleeping 
 Beauty and Mother Bunch! All right; here we go 
 into business. Do you know how to scald that cupful 
 of milk you see before you ? " 
 
 "Scald it.?" repeated Jeannette doubtfully — and so 
 the lesson began. 
 
 Absolute ignorance on the part of the pupil, 
 assured knowledge on that of the teacher — the lesson 
 
92 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 was a very kindergarten in methods. There were 
 times when Georgiana had much difficulty in re- 
 straining her inward mirth, but she soon saw that this 
 must be done, though Jeannette herself laughed at 
 her own clumsiness, and evidently was determined to 
 let nothing escape her. 
 
 "Kneading looks so easy when you do it," she 
 lamented; "but I can't seem to help getting stuck." 
 
 "That will come with practice — if you ever try an- 
 other batch, which I doubt. And it's the kneading 
 that is so good for your arms." 
 
 "Yours are beautiful — and so strong, it must be 
 fun to own them." 
 
 "There are times when a bit of muscle is of use in a 
 husthng world," admitted her cousin. "There, I 
 think that dough will do very well. Turn it over and 
 lay it smoothly in the bowl — so. Cover it with its 
 white blanket — so; and leave it right here, where it 
 will have a good warm temperature to rise in. Now, 
 run up and snatch another nap; you'll have plenty of 
 time. 
 
 "You're not going back to bed?" 
 
 "Rather not!" Georgiana's smile strove to be 
 tolerant. "There are just a few things to be done 
 about the house, and they are best done before 
 breakfast. Off with you, lady cousin!" 
 
 "Do you always get up so early?" Jeannette per- 
 sisted. 
 
SOAPSUDS 93 
 
 "I have an extraordinary fondness for early rising," 
 Georgiana explained. "It's foolish, of course, but 
 it's an old habit. Good-bye, my dear; my next 
 errand is down cellar," and she vanished from the 
 sight of her guest, quite unable to keep herself longer 
 in hand before the amazing point of view of this 
 daughter of luxury. 
 
 The "next errand" was the washing of the handful 
 of fine towels with which the painstaking hostess was 
 keeping the guest-room supplied, unwilling to furnish 
 the aristocratic young person upstairs with the 
 coarser articles used by herself and the others. Jean- 
 nette, all unaware that the snowy linen with which 
 her room was kept plentifully supplied was con- 
 stantly relaundered in secret by Georgiana's own 
 hands, was as lavish in her use of it as she was 
 accustomed to be at home, and the result was 
 a quite unbelievable amount of extra work for her 
 cousin. 
 
 Mr. Warne, coming upon his daughter by chance 
 in this very early morning flurry of laundering, ex- 
 pressed himself upon the subject in the gentle but 
 positive way which was his. 
 
 "Why do it, my dear?" he questioned. "Are the 
 sheets and towels we use not quite good enough for 
 others ? " 
 
 "Not half good enough for Lady Jean," responded 
 the laundress, rubbing energetically away — yet care- 
 
94 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 fully, too, for the old linen was not so stout as it once 
 had been. 
 
 "You are intentionally deceiving her, aren't you, 
 daughter? Why do that? — since it is not necessary 
 for her comfort." 
 
 "But it is. She would shudder at the touch of a 
 cotton sheet. As for a common huck towel " 
 
 Mr. Warne shook his head. "I can't agree with 
 you. So that the sheets and towels are spotless — as 
 your sheets and towels are — the mere degree of fine- 
 ness is not essential. And if she knew how muqh 
 labour it costs you, I am very certain she would in- 
 finitely prefer to be less of a spendthrift in the matter 
 of quantity." 
 
 "I've no doubt she would. But I'd rather wash 
 my fingers off than not give her the fresh towel for her 
 perfect face each time she uses one. I'd like it my- 
 self. I'd like a million towels, all fine as silk. I'd 
 
 like " She stopped abruptly, seeing the look 
 
 upon her father's face. "Oh, I'm sorry!" she flashed 
 at him repentantly. "I truly don't mind being poor 
 in most ways. It's the lack of certain things that go 
 with nicety of living that grinds me most. I shouldn't 
 mind wearing gingham outside, if I could have all the 
 fine linen I want underneath. It's — it's — oh, well, 
 you know! And I'm an idiot to talk about it when 
 the thing we really need is books — books for your 
 starving mind. If I could get you all you want of 
 
SOAPSUDS 95 
 
 those " Her voice broke upon the wish, always 
 
 strong with her. 
 
 "My dear, my mind will never starve while it 
 has the old books to feed upon. Listen, on what a 
 pertinent thought did I come this morning. I was 
 delving in good old Thomas Fuller, of those fine 
 seventeenth-century writers whose works still glow 
 with fire: ' Though my guest was never so high, yet, 
 by the laws of hospitality, I was above him whilst under 
 my roof.'" 
 
 The girl laughed, dashing away a hot tear with the 
 back of a soapy hand. "Trust you to find a classic 
 to turn a tragedy into a comedy," she said. "Go 
 away now, Father Davy, and I'll soon be through. 
 It*s a poor washerwoman I am to be thinning my 
 suds with brine ! " 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 A REASONABLE PROPOSITION 
 
 YOU'LL come, too, Georgiana dear?" Jean- 
 nette, furrily clad for a walk with James 
 Stuart, stood in the doorway looking back. "Please 
 do." 
 
 "Come, George; — you need a good tramp," Stuart 
 urged at Jeannette's elbow. 
 
 He looked the picture of anticipation. He had 
 undertaken getting the visitor into training by in- 
 creasingly long daily walks, and the result was proving 
 eminently satisfactory. At the end of the first half 
 of the visit Jeannette was looking wonderfully well 
 and happy — hardly the same girl who had come to the 
 little village to try if she could endure such life as was 
 likely to be offered her there. 
 
 "Thank you, my dears, nothing could persuade 
 me. Run along and leave me to diversions of my 
 own," answered Georgiana gayly. 
 
 So they had gone, Jeannette wafting back a kiss, 
 Stuart waving an enthusiastic arm. Georgiana had 
 smiled at them, had closed the door softly behind 
 them — and had immediately banged to another con- 
 
 S6 
 
A REASONABLE PROPOSITION 97 
 
 veniently near at hand, one opening into a small 
 clothespress under the stair landing. 
 
 "Diversions of my own!" she repeated with 
 emphasis. "Happy phrase! I wonder what they 
 think my diversions are — ^with this family to look 
 after. Well, you got yourself into it, George Warne. 
 You can stick it out if it kills you." 
 
 She deliberately thumped one door after another 
 all the way along her progress through the empty 
 rooms and up the stairs to the second floor. Her 
 father was away, for the afternoon on a rare visit to a 
 neighbour who had sent for him, an old parishioner, 
 who, falling ill, longed for the gentle offices of his 
 friend and long-time minister. As for Mr. Jefferson, 
 this was the time of day when he was always away on 
 his usual long walk. It was a comfort to be alone in 
 the quiet house — and to bang and thump. 
 
 In her room Georgiana arrayed herself in a heavy 
 red sweater, then ascended to the attic and stood 
 eying the great hand loom of antique pattern, a relic 
 of an earlier century. It was equipped with a black 
 warp, upon which a few rows of parti-coloured woof 
 had been woven. 
 
 "Diversions!" she repeated, and shook her round 
 fist at the lumbering object. 
 
 Then she sat down on the old weaver's bench and 
 began to weave with heavy, jarring thuds which 
 shook the floor, as with strong arms she pulled and 
 
98 UNDER THE COIJNTRY SKY 
 
 pushed and sent her clumsy shuttle flying back and 
 forth. The attic was very cold; but she was soon 
 warm with the violent exercise and presently had dis- 
 carded the sweater and was working away with 
 might and main. 
 
 "G© at it — go at it!" she was saying to herself. 
 "Jealous idiot that you are! Jealous of Jeannette, of 
 her clothes, her money, her beauty, her power to 
 attract — ^jealous because Jimps likes her so well — 
 because Father Davy looks at her with the eyes of an 
 appreciative uncle — because Mr. E. C. Jefferson talks 
 to her as if he enjoyed it. Pound — pound — pound 
 away at the old loom till your arms ache, and see if 
 you can get the nonsense out of you ! " 
 
 "I beg your pardon," said a deep voice at the top 
 of the narrow stairs not far away. 
 
 The loom stopped with a jerk as the weaver 
 flashed round upon the head and shoulders protrud- 
 ing above the rafters. "Oh! I'm sorry! Did I dis- 
 turb you?" cried Georgiana, fire in her voice. She 
 did not look in the least sorry. "I thought you were 
 out, too. And I'm just over your head. Of course 
 you came up to " 
 
 "No, I didn't," replied Mr. Jefferson. He as- 
 cended two steps more, looking curiously at the loom; 
 "I came up because I thought something extraordii 
 nary had happened up here and I ought to find out 
 about it." 
 
A REASONABLE PROPOSITION 99 
 
 "Nothing extraordinary, merely something very 
 ordinary. I do this whenever I have time and the 
 coast is clear. You usually go out at this hour," she 
 said accusingly. 
 
 "So I do. I came back just now, when I saw Miss 
 Crofton and Mr. Stuart starting off alone, in hopes 
 that you might consent to go with me. It's a great 
 day. Won't you.?" 
 
 "Thank you, no," the girl replied. "I'm behind 
 with my work. These rugs are orders very much 
 overdue. I've been rather delayed lately, since my 
 machine is so noisy I can't work when anybody is on 
 the second floor." 
 
 "Please never mind me," urged her visitor. "I 
 can time my work to fit in with yours, if you need to 
 make haste. But that must be a rather strenuous 
 business. It's a very old affair, isn't it .? Do you mind 
 if I look at it ? I never saw one of just that pattern." 
 
 "I mind very much," replied Georgiana crisply, 
 moving off the bench and standing on the floor. 
 "But that's no reason why you shouldn't examine 
 the Monster if you like. That's what I call it. I'll 
 run down and be back when you are through." 
 
 And this she would have done, but that he barred 
 her way. 
 
 "But I won't," he said gravely, "if you prefer that 
 I should not. Come back, please! I'm intruding, 
 and I'll apologize and go." 
 
loo UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 The light from a dusty attic window fell full on her 
 face as she stood, and he saw that in it which made 
 him look again. 
 
 "Miss Warne," he said gently, "something is 
 wrong, I'm afraid. Can't I be of use to you in some 
 way.? The reason I wanted to look at this loom was 
 that I saw your last two strokes with the bar as I came 
 up, and I recognized what a tremendous push you had 
 to give. I'm something of a mechanic and I wondered 
 if I couldn't do a bit of oiling, perhaps, to make it 
 easier. I'm afraid it's tiring you unduly." 
 
 "I need to be tired," she said, low but vehemently. 
 "I'm in a black mood, and the more I tire myself the 
 quicker I shall get the better of it. Now you know. 
 I suppose you never have black moods." 
 
 "Do I not? So black that I could grind myself 
 under my own heel. Do you have them, too? I 
 might have known by the look of you." 
 
 "You don't look as if you ever had them," she said 
 rather curiously, her eyes on his quiet face. 
 
 "Ah, you can't always tell — luckily. It's pretty 
 cold up here. Are you sure you wouldn't do better 
 to take a run in the wind with me ? You know some- 
 how heavy tasks look lighter after a breath of outdoor 
 air." 
 
 "So you know what heavy tasks are?" For the 
 life of her she could not resist the question. 
 
 He looked steadily back at her, smiling a little.. His 
 
A REASONABLE PROPOSITION loi 
 
 eyes were very clear in their quiet scrutiny. She felt 
 as if he saw much that she would prefer to conceal. 
 "I have known a few that seemed to me fairly heavy 
 at the time," he said. "Afterward, I was thankful 
 to have had them — ^to prepare me for heavier ones." 
 
 "Oh — but they weren't the same dismal 
 round " 
 
 "Weren't they? Most tasks are. But I never 
 had one quite like this. I am concerned for you, 
 lest this prove too heavy. Now that I am here — do 
 you really mind so very much if I look the machine 
 over.?" 
 
 She permitted it, and she did not run away as she 
 had meant to do. Presently he asked for a screw- 
 driver and a can of oil, and when she had procured 
 them he did a number of things to the cumbersome 
 loom, the result of which, when she attacked it once 
 more, proved that he had relieved to a certain extent 
 the hardest of her efforts. 
 
 "But it is still much too severe for any woman," he 
 said seriously, standing, oil can in hand, a little lock 
 of hair, shaken down by his labours, straying across 
 his forehead. "Please tell me, and don't think me 
 merely curious — is there no way in which you can add 
 to your resources except this.? You have a college 
 training " 
 
 >» 
 
 "And no way whatever to make use of it, 
 she exclaimed with some bitterness. "But I can 
 
I02 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 weave, and I have a feeling for colour and form and 
 can work out effects which find a market. Hand- 
 woven rugs bring their price these days. Really, 
 Mr. Jefferson, I am no subject for pity and " 
 
 "You don't want it. Let me assure you that I 
 don't feel a particle. To be young and strong and fit 
 for hard work is no cause for pity. But — I have 
 reason for persisting in my inquiry. You see, I 
 happen to know of some one in need of such training 
 as you undoubtedly have. Would you consider 
 giving a few hours daily to one who needs a copyist 
 and critic?" 
 
 Georgiana scanned his face with intent, incredulous 
 eyes. Then, "Do you mean yourself ? " she questioned. 
 
 "I mean myself. I hesitate to mention that I am 
 the candidate, knowing that that admission must in- 
 stantly create a prejudice against me." He was 
 smiling a little. "But I state an actual fact. I 
 have reached a point in my labours where I need a 
 copyist. Do you think it possible that I may secure 
 one without sending away for her ? " 
 
 "I must suspect you," she said slowly and with 
 rising colour, "of manufacturing a need. It is very, 
 very kind of you, Mr. Jefferson — but I think I must 
 continue to weave my rugs." 
 
 "But I am not manufacturing a need," he insisted. 
 "I declare to you that I have been on the point of 
 consulting you for some time. If it had not been that 
 
A REASONABLE PROPOSITION 103 
 
 your days seemed very full with your guest and your 
 housewifery, I should have put it to you before now. 
 I am in earnest, Miss Warne. Won't you, as a 
 matter of everyday business, lend me your eyes and 
 your hand — and your critical judgment? If you 
 can't do it while Miss Crofton is here, may I engage 
 your spare time after she goes? Please don't deny 
 me." He began to descend the stairs. "I won't 
 stay for an answer," he said. "Think it over, will 
 you? And please don't refuse until you have con- 
 sulted your father." 
 
 "Why do you ask that?" 
 
 "Because I know he will look at it as any man 
 would, without unreasonable prejudice against ac- 
 cepting a business proposition simply because it 
 happens to come from a temporary member of the 
 household. It takes a woman to bother about that." 
 
 With this straight shot he left her, laughing back at 
 her as he descended in a way that went far toward 
 disarming her, though she would not at once admit it. 
 Instead, she went back to her loom, putting into the 
 next section of weaving a quite unnecessary amount 
 of force purely from tension of mind over the possi- 
 bilities opened up by this most unexpected offer. 
 There was no denying that it was precisely the sort of 
 tking which she had often longed to do, and for 
 which, she knew, as he had suggested, she was more 
 than ordinarily well fitted. It was impossible, as she 
 
I04 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 had said, not to suspect the lodger of creating a want 
 to fit her need of earning money, yet there could be no 
 doubt of the fact that any writer of books who draws 
 upon all manner of collected notes and reference books 
 for his material must be able to make valuable use 
 of an assistant in a variety of ways. 
 
 Why should she not take him at his word ? Well, 
 she would think of it. And meanwhile — suddenly — 
 the black mood was gone! 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 STUART OBJECTS 
 
 THAT night, after Mr. Jefferson's unexpected 
 proposal that she should assist him in his 
 literary work, Georgiana, running out upon an er- 
 rand in the business part of the village, encountered 
 James Stuart. This had been a not infrequent hap- 
 pening in days past, but since Jeannette's arrival it 
 had not once occurred. Stuart was much at the 
 house, but not for a fortnight had Georgiana had ten 
 minutes alone with him. 
 
 That he welcomed the chance as well as she was 
 evident from his first word: "Great luck! At last 
 I get you to myself for half a wink without a soul 
 around. Where are you going? Wherever it is, you 
 don't go back to the house till you've given me what I 
 want." 
 
 "And what's that?" queried Georgiana. 
 
 Her tone was cool in spite of herself. She had 
 missed the almost daily walks and talks with Stuart, 
 glad as she had been to have him do his effectual part 
 in helping her entertain her guests. And there had 
 been, as she was obliged to confess to herself, a sense 
 
 los 
 
io6 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 that if he had been very anxious not to lose altogether 
 her society he would have managed, in spite of lack 
 of ordinary opportunity, to bring about such meetings. 
 Howmuchshe couldfeel the absence of his companion- 
 ship she had not dreanjed until she had been tried. 
 
 After the friendly village fashion of intimate ac- 
 quaintance he lightly grasped her arm in its cover- 
 ing of the scarlet-lined military cape she always wore 
 on such walks, and turned her from her course toward 
 a side street leading away, instead of toward, the 
 centre she had been approaching. She protested, but 
 he was laughingly determined and she yielded. It 
 was good, undeniably good, to have Jimps by her side 
 again, and hear his voice in his old eagerJy devoted 
 tones in her ear. That he was really overjoyed at 
 coming upon her in a free hour it was impossible to 
 doubt. 
 
 "My word! George, but you've kept me on short 
 rations lately," he began accusingly. "One would 
 think you had suddenly put me on a diet list. Noth- 
 ing but sweets, contrary to the usual prohibitions of 
 the medical men for the husky male ! Do you think 
 I have no appetite for the good substantial food? 
 Parties and drives and candy-pulls, always with the 
 lovely guest, and never an old-time hobnob with my 
 chum ! What's the matter with you, George ? What 
 have I done? ' 
 
 "But such sweets! And so soon they will be gone, 
 
STUART OBJECTS 107 
 
 and nothing for the hungry youth but plain bread and 
 butter. How absurd of you to complain ! " 
 
 "Bread and butter! Beefsteak and mushrooms, 
 you mean; roast turkey and cranberry sauce! A 
 fellow can live on them. But not on eternal honey 
 and fudge — ^with my apologies to the lady." 
 
 "I should say so, Jimps. You're outrageous, and 
 you don't mean it. I wouldn't walk another step 
 with you if you did." 
 
 "She's undoubtedly the sweetest thing on earth," 
 admitted Stuart. "There are times when I think I'd 
 like to ask her to marry me on the spot — if she'd have 
 vne, which she wouldn't — me, a farmer ! She dazzles 
 me, bewitches me, makes me all but lose my head. 
 And then I look at my chum, the girl I've known all 
 my life, and I think — well, sugar is all right, but you 
 can't get on without salt — and pepper — and ginger — • 
 and " 
 
 "Jimps ! " In spite of herself Georgiana was laugh- 
 ing infectiously, and Stuart joined her. "How abso- 
 lutely ridiculous ! I sound like a whole spice box, and 
 nothing but the 'bitey' spices at that." 
 
 '" That's what you are," declared James Stuart con- 
 tentedly. "And when I'm with you I have no 
 hankering after sugar. Mustard plasters for me; 
 they're warming." 
 
 They walked on, the spiritof good fellowship keeping 
 step with them. If Georgiana had allowed herself to 
 
io8 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 believe that Stuart was completely absorbed with the 
 enchantments of the beautiful guest, she now dis- 
 covered that, quite as he had said, the enchantment 
 was by no means complete and he had not lost ap- 
 preciation of the old friendship and what it meant to 
 him. This was good to feel. It was all she wanted. 
 If she had been guilty of a creeping sense of jealousy 
 as she watched Stuart and Jeannette together, so evi- 
 dently enjoying each other's society to the full, it was 
 because it made her suddenly and unpleasantly under- 
 stand what it would be to her to live her days in this 
 commonplace little village without Stuart at her right 
 hand. But here he was, literally at her right hand, 
 and he was making her walk with him, not a beggarly 
 square or two out of her way, but a good three miles 
 around a certain course which once entered upon 
 could not be cut short by any crossroads. And all 
 the way he was telling her, as he had always done, all 
 manner of intimate things about his affairs, and ask- 
 ing her of hers. 
 
 Before the circuit had been made Georgianahad 
 done that which an hour before she would have 
 thought far from her intention, natural as such a 
 procedure would have been a month ago, before 
 Jeannette came — she had told Stuart of Mr. Jeffer- 
 son's offer. If the truth must be confessed, after 
 suffering the mood which had only lately been dissi- 
 pated, she could not resist producing the effect she 
 
STUART OBJECTS 109 
 
 knew, If Jimps were still Jimps, was bound to be 
 produced. Such is woman! 
 
 Quite as she had foreseen, he was aroused on the 
 instant. The generous sharing of Georgiana Warne 
 with other aspirants for her favour had never been 
 one of James Stuart's characteristics, open-hearted 
 though he was in every other way. He stopped 
 short in the snowy path, regarding her sternly while 
 she smiled in the darkness. This was balm for a 
 heavy heart, indeed, this recognition she had of his 
 disapproval even before he jerked out the quick 
 words : 
 
 "Great Scott! You don't mean to tell me you'd do 
 it ! Spend hours every day working with E. C. JefiFer- 
 son? Not a bit of it. Not so you'd notice it ! Tell 
 him to go to thunder I" 
 
 "James McKenzie Stuart! What a tone to take! 
 Why on earth should you object?" Georgiana's 
 tone was rich and sweet and astonished — ^it certainly 
 sounded astonished. 
 
 " Because you're my chum, my partner; and I won't 
 have you going into partnership with any other man 
 ■ — not much ! " 
 
 "Partnership! Secretaries and stenographers 
 aren't partners -" 
 
 "Aren't they, though! The most intimate sort. 
 And a fellow like JeiFerson, full of books and literary 
 lore — he'd be breaking off work half his time to talk 
 
no UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 Montaigne and Samuel Johnson and — and Bernard 
 Shaw with you. And you'd drink it all in with those 
 
 eyes of yours and make him think " Georgiana's 
 
 uncontrollable laughter halted but did not stop him. 
 "What's his work, anyhow? Writing a History of 
 Art?" growled Stuart, marching on, with Georgian a 
 beside him bursting into fresh mirth with every step. 
 Her heart was quite light enough now; no danger that 
 she had lost her friend ! 
 
 "I've no idea what it is, but it's certainly not that. 
 He seldom speaks of art in any form — except literary 
 art, of course. I've an idea it's scientific research of 
 some sort." 
 
 "Then why isn't he in a laboratory somewhere, 
 boiling acids? Why isn't he digging in city li- 
 braries or hunting scientific stuff over in Vienna? 
 Vienna's the place for him. I wish him there fast 
 enough," irritably continued this asperser of other 
 men's vocations. 
 
 "His research work has undoubtedly been done; he 
 has pile upon pile of notebooks and papers on file. 
 His handwriting is a fright; that's probably what he 
 wants me for — to make it legible to the printer." 
 
 "Let him send for a typist then; that's what he 
 needs if he writes an illegible fist. You can't type^ 
 write." 
 
 "I could learn, if necessary. I've often wished I 
 could." 
 
STUART OBJECTS in 
 
 "You could learn! Yes, you could learn to come 
 when E. C. Jefferson whistled, I've no doubt! Oh, I 
 beg your pardon, George — you needn't turn away. 
 Nobody could ever fancy you coming at any man's 
 whistle. I'm just seeing red, that's all, at the 
 thought of your going into a thing like this, that's 
 bound to throw you two into the closest sort of rela- 
 tions." 
 
 "That's all nonsense, Jimps. You're behaving 
 like a little boy. And you know I can't afford to lose 
 a chance like this. You know how slow the rug- 
 weaving is " 
 
 "You don't mean you're still at that?" 
 
 "Of course I am. The prices are very good now, 
 and I'm " 
 
 "Then you certainly can't lose them to go into 
 copying manuscript by hand. Stick to the weaving; 
 that's my advice." 
 
 "Mr. Jefferson saw the loom to-day. He thinks it 
 too hard work for me," suggested Georgiana slyly. 
 
 This was a telling shut, for Stuart had often ex- 
 pressed himself in similar fashion in the past. As was 
 to have been expected, her companion became in- 
 stantly more nettled than ever. 
 
 "Oh, he does, does he?" he said hotly. "I'd like 
 to know what affair it is of his. You know well 
 enough Fve protested scores of times against that 
 weaving " 
 
112 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 "And now you tell me to stick to it!" 
 
 He wheeled upon her. His tone changed : "George, 
 I know I'm absolutely unreasonable. Of course I 
 don't want you pulling that back-breaking thing. I 
 don't want you to have to hustle for money any sort 
 of way ; that's the truth. What I do want is — to keep 
 you away from every other earthly beggar but my 
 self!" 
 
 "O James Stuart, how absurd! That's not a 
 brotherly attitude at all." 
 
 "The role of brother isn't always entirely satis- 
 fying," retorted Stuart under his breath. "You 
 know well enough you've only to say the word and 
 
 "Jimps dear" — Georgiana's voice was very gentle 
 now — "remember we've left all that boy-and-girl 
 sentimentalizing behind. It was quite settled long 
 ago that you and I were to be brother and sister, 
 'world without end.' And I know you mean it 
 as brotherly, all this fuss about my taking a bit of 
 perfectly reasonable employment for just a little 
 while." 
 
 "Little while? Do you know how long he expects 
 to be at work on that confounded book ? " 
 
 "Nojdoyou?" 
 
 "He told me one night when we were smoking to- 
 gether that he had given himself a year to do this 
 work in. He came in January; this is April. Do 
 
STUART OBJECTS 113 
 
 you wonder I'm a bit upset at the notion of my best 
 friend's going into harness with him for a year?" 
 Stuart's tone was grim. 
 
 Georgiana, now in wild spirits with the relief from 
 her fears, and the suddenly opening prospect of a long 
 period of such work as she dearly loved, had some ado 
 to keep her state of mind from showing. " It doesn't 
 follow," she said, outwardly sober, "that he intends 
 to spend that whole year here." 
 
 "He will— if he gets you for a side partner. A man 
 would be a fool not to." 
 
 "That's a great tribute — from a brother," ad- 
 mitted Georgiana, smiling to herself. " But as far as 
 our lodger is concerned, you need have no fear of 
 any but the most businesslike relations, even though 
 I worked beside him — as is quite improbable — for a 
 year. He's not that sort." 
 
 "Not what sort? Don't you fool yourself. He's 
 human, if his mind is bent on writing a book. And 
 you are — Georgiana!" 
 
 "Jimps, there's a path in your brain that's get- 
 ting worn too deep to-night. Come — let's hurry 
 home. Jeannette will wonder what's become of 
 me. 
 
 "Let her wonder. George, are you going to do 
 this thing?" 
 
 "Of course I am." 
 
 "No matter bow I feel about it?" 
 
U4 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 "Why, Jimps — really, do you think you have any 
 Tight " 
 
 "Georgiana, I — love you!" 
 
 "No, Jimps, you don't. Not so much as all that. 
 You have a brotherly affection " 
 
 "Brotherly affection doesn't hurt; this does," was 
 Stuart's declaration. 
 
 "No, it doesn't, my dear boy. You're just made 
 with a queer sort of jealous element in your compo^ 
 sition, and when something happens to call it out 
 you think it's — something quite different," explained 
 Georgiana rather lamely. "You know perfectly that 
 you and I fit best as good friends; we should be awfully 
 unhappy tied up together in any way. Why, we 
 settled that long ago, as I reminded you just 
 now." 
 
 "It seems to have come unsettled," Stuart mut- 
 tered. 
 
 "Then we must settle it again. Truly— you mean 
 everything to me as a brother, friend, chum — 'which- 
 ever you like, and I — ^well, I should feel pretty badly 
 to lose you. But " 
 
 " I wish you'd leave it there. I don't fancy what 
 you're going on to say." 
 
 "Then I'll not say it. Come, Jimps, give me you» 
 hand on the old compact." 
 
 "I will — on exactly one condition." Stuart stood 
 still and faced her in a certain secluded spot just 
 
STUART OBJECTS 115 
 
 where the snowy path was on the point of turning 
 into a wider, well-used thoroughfare. 
 
 "What is it? Make it a fair one." 
 
 "It is fair — ^the fairest between a man and a 
 woman. It's this: leave the 'never-never* clause 
 out. I'll agree to any terms of friendship you insist 
 on if — ^well, just leave me a chance, will you — dear?" 
 
 There was a brief silence while Georgiana con- 
 sidered. She had not expected this, certainly not 
 just now, when her long-time friend frankly admitted 
 the drawing power of the winsome visitor. As she 
 had implied, there had been between them, in the 
 days of dawning maturity while they were yet in 
 school together, certain youthfully tender vows 
 which they had later exchanged for the more carefully 
 considered terms of the warm but less sentimental 
 friendship which had now existed for some years. 
 That Stuart was really dearer to her, more a necessary 
 part of her life than she had realized, had been made 
 disconcertingly clear to her by the totally unexpected 
 pangs she had suffered during the last fortnight, when 
 it had seemed to her that she was likely to lose the 
 fine fervor of his devotion. Now, however, that she 
 was assured of his intense loyalty, she was the old 
 Georgiana again, ready to stand beside her friend to 
 the last ditch, if need be, but wholly unwilling to bind 
 herself to his chariot wheels while no ditches threat* 
 ened. 
 
ii6 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 "'Never' is a big word," she said finally. "It 
 isn't best to say 'never' about anything in this 
 life." 
 
 "Then you won't ask me to say it?" His voice 
 was eager. 
 
 "Not if you don't want to, Jimps." 
 
 "I don't. There was never anything surer than 
 that. Give me your hand — chum." 
 
 She gave it. "All right — chum." 
 
 He had pulled off his own glove; he now gently 
 drew off hers, and the two warm hands claspedi 
 "Here's our everlasting friendship," he said, with a 
 little thrill in his low voice. "Nothing shall come 
 between us except — love." 
 
 "Jimps! That's not the old compact at all." 
 
 "It's the new one then. Isn't it sufficiently am- 
 biguous to suit you ? " 
 
 "It's much too ambiguous." 
 
 "I can make it plainer " 
 
 "Perhaps you'd better leave it as it is," she ad- 
 mitted, recognizing danger. 
 
 "As you say." 
 
 He held her hand for a minute in such a close grasp 
 that it hurt her, but she did not wince. Ah! if she 
 might just have this pleasantly satisfying relation 
 with the man whose presence in her life meant warmth 
 and light and even happiness on the hard road of 
 every-day routine, and then have somehow besides 
 
STUART OBJECTS 117 
 
 the contentment which comes of accomplishment 
 along a line of chosen activity — and still remain free 
 for whatever God in heaven might send her of real 
 joy, she could ask no better. 
 
 "Jimps, I'm perfectly contented," she said radi- 
 antly, as they walked on. 
 
 "That's good. I wish I were." 
 
 "What would make you?" 
 
 "Your promise to earn your money making rugs — ■ 
 with me to help you." 
 
 "But you couldn't!" 
 
 "I could learn." 
 
 "Oh, how absurd! You haven't time, if there 
 were no other reason." 
 
 He did not answer, and, since they were now back 
 in the village and nearing the object of Georgiana's 
 errand, no more was said until they were once again 
 on their way homeward. They walked in silence 
 until they reached the very doorstep of the manse. 
 Then Stuart made one more protest. 
 
 "Not even to please me, George?" he asked, as she 
 stood on the step above him, leading the way in to 
 Jeannette and the warm fireside. 
 
 "Jimps, I'm sorry you feel that way about it. 
 But I've talked with Father Davy and he agrees that 
 it's a godsend. There's no reason in the world I 
 could give Mr. Jefferson for refusing to help him 
 when he needs it, and when I need it, too. Therefore 
 
ii8 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 ■ — I'm sorry, Jimps, since you are so strange as to 
 care — but I've made up my mind." 
 
 "You'll excuse me if I don't come in to-night," he 
 said, and turned away. 
 
 She stood looking comprehendingly after him as he 
 left her, then ran in and closed the door. The mood 
 which held her now was so far from being black that 
 it was rosy red. 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 BORROWED PLUMES 
 
 UNCLE DAVID, I was never so sorry to come to 
 the end of any visit as I am this one," said Jean- 
 nette Crofton. She was holding Mr. Warne's frail 
 hand in both her own, and looking straight into the 
 young gray-blue eyes which looked affectionately 
 back at her. She was dressed for her departure, and 
 the great closed town car which had brought her was 
 waiting at the door. 
 
 Near her stood Georgiana and James McKenzie 
 Stuart. Mr. E. C. Jefferson had just appeared in the 
 background, come to bid the guest farewell. 
 
 "You have given us much pleasure, my dear," re- 
 sponded Mr. Warne, " and if you have received it as 
 well, the balance is pretty evenly struck." 
 
 "I might have stayed two days longer," declared 
 /eannette with evident longing, "if it hadn't been for 
 that sister of mine. I'm sure she could have had a 
 birthday dance without me — but no! How I wish I 
 were taking you all with me — even you, Mr. Jeffer- 
 son," she added with one of her adorable smiles, as 
 she turned to him; "you, whom I can't possibly 
 
 119 
 
.I20 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 imagine caring to dance a step, not even with the 
 prettiest girl I could find for you." 
 
 "You almost make me wish I knew how to dance a 
 step," said Mr. Jefferson, advancing to take her hand. 
 "As it is, I can at least wish that prettiest girl a 
 partner worthy of her grace." 
 
 "While I am wishing," exclaimed Jeannette with 
 characteristic impulsiveness, "why in the world don't 
 I bring about my own wishes? Oh, where have my 
 wits been! Georgiana, darling, run and dress and 
 go with me! I'll send you back to-morrow in the 
 car. And you, too, Mr. Stuart! Oh, come, both of 
 you, and dance at Rosalie's birthday fete to-night! 
 Please — please do!" She turned to Mr. Warne, 
 "Mayn't she. Uncle David? Couldn't you manage 
 to spare her just for twenty-four hours ? " 
 
 They looked at one another, smiling, hardly be- 
 lieving that the gay suggestion was a serious one. 
 
 But by Jeannette, accustomed to having her own 
 way once a way had occurred to her, all objections 
 were thrust aside. "Oh, but you must come!" she 
 cried. "I'll not take no!" 
 
 "Come and talk it over a minute with me, crazy 
 child," bade Georgiana; and she drew her cousin out 
 of the room, where she could state the great difficulty 
 which, being a woman, had instantly assailed her. 
 "Jean, I hate to quash such a glorious idea, but — I 
 shall have to be frank — clothes!" 
 
BORROWED PLUMES 121 
 
 "With loads of frocks hanging in my wardrobe 
 at home? And half of them too trying for me to 
 Wear at all, while they would suit you perfectly. 
 Nonsense! Oh, hurry and make ready. James Stu- 
 art will go if you will; I saw it in his eyes." 
 
 It could not be refused, this tempting invitation, 
 with such a lovely tyrant to enforce her will. One 
 word, however, did James Stuart and Georgiana 
 Warne exchange in a corner before they capitulated. 
 
 "George, my evening togs — they've been put 
 away for the four years since I left college. They 
 must be about the most hopelessly ancient cut con- 
 ceivable to eyes like hers. Shall I risk looking like 
 a rustic in such a house as that?" But Stuart's 
 eyes were eager as a boy's. 
 
 "I'll not go if you won't, Jimps. As for rusticity, 
 I can keep you company. Can you bear to lose such 
 a frolic? I can't." 
 
 "Neither can I, hang it! All right, I'll be a sport 
 if you will," agreed Stuart with a laugh, and rushed 
 away to pack a bag in short order, all the zest of 
 irrepressible youth, in one who had been forced by 
 circumstance to foreswear most of the joys of youth 
 for stem labour, coming uppermost to bid hirt? 
 make merry once more at any cost of after fall of 
 spirits. 
 
 "Thank goodness I've had the sense always to 
 keep the latest of Jeannette's 'Semi-Annual' tailored 
 
124 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 suits pressed and trim," thought Georgiana as 
 she dressed. "This is a year behind the extreme 
 style, but I know perfectly well I look absolutely all 
 right in it, and my hat, having once been hers, is 
 mighty becoming and smart, if it is a make-over. 
 It's lucky I can do those things; that's one benefit 
 of going to college, anyhow." 
 
 A few other "make-overs" in the way of dress ac- 
 cessories, all of exquisite material, on account of their 
 source, and daintily preserved because of their 
 frailty after having served two owners, went into 
 her traveling bag. For the dance itself, since there 
 was no other way, she was not loath to accept Jean- 
 nette's generous offer, and, being a very human 
 creature, could not help looking forward with delight 
 to the prospect of finding herself arrayed in such 
 apparel as would successfully sustain any scrutiny 
 which might be brought to bear upon the country 
 cousin. As for Stuart, she had no fears for him, 
 for his years of college life had made him an accept- 
 able figure upon any occasion, and she was confident 
 his broad shoulders and fine carriage could atone 
 for any slightly antique cut of lapel or coat-tail. 
 
 Altogether, it was a very happy young person who 
 embraced Mr. David Warne, shook hands with Mr. 
 Jefferson, and ran down the path to the great car 
 in the wake of Jeannette, and followed by James 
 Stuart looking extremely personable. Well-cut 
 
BORROWED PLUMES 123 
 
 clothes were the one extravagance Stuart allowed 
 himself now that he was immured for at least the 
 early half of his life, as he expected, upon the farm 
 of his inheritance. 
 
 "Well, well, I'm glad to have my little girl run 
 away for a few hours," said Father Davy, from the 
 window where, with Mr. Jefferson at his shoulder, 
 he stood watching for the final wave of Georgiana's 
 hand. "She has enjoyed her cousin's visit, but it has 
 meant considerable extra labour for her. This seems 
 a fitting return for Jeannette to make." 
 
 "One can hardly blame Miss Crofton for wanting 
 to prolong her enjoyment of your daughter's society," 
 observed Mr. Jefferson, his eyes watching closely 
 the laughing faces behind the glass as the travelers 
 settled themselves. "I can imagine one's feeling 
 a very decided emptiness in a place which she had 
 left." 
 
 "There, they're off!" announced Mr. Warne, 
 waving his slender arm with eagerness, his delicate 
 features alight with pleasure in this unexpected 
 happening. "Emptiness, you say, Jefferson.?" he 
 added as the two turned away, with the car out of 
 sight down the snowy road. "That quite expresses 
 it. Even for a few hours I am conscious of a dis- 
 tinct sense of loneliness without Georgiana. Her 
 personality is one which makes itself felt; it has in- 
 iividuality, audacity; even — I think — that curious 
 
124 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 quality which for want of a better name we call 
 'charm.' Am I too prejudiced ? " 
 
 He placed himself upon his couch, plainly very 
 weary with the flurry of the last hour. He lay look- 
 ing up at Mr. Jefferson, who had lingered a little 
 before going back to the work which loudly called 
 to him. It was quite possible for the younger man 
 to comprehend how desolate was the gentle invalid's 
 feeling at being left, if only for a day and a night, in 
 the care of the friendly neighbour who was to minister 
 to his needs and who was already to be heard bustling 
 about the dining-room, laying the table for the coming 
 meal. 
 
 "You may be prejudiced," admitted his com- 
 panion, "but it is a prejudice which can be readily 
 forgiven — and even shared," he added, smiling. 
 
 "Her cousin," pursued Mr. Warne slowly, "would 
 outshine her in beauty and in sweetness of disposi- 
 tion, perhaps, though I doubt if Jeannette has ever 
 had a fraction of the tests of character and endurance 
 my girl has had." 
 
 "She surely never has," agreed the other* "And 
 as for mere sweetness of disposition, there are other 
 qualities which make their own appeal." 
 
 A whimsical smile appeared upon the pale face 
 resting against one of Georgiana's crimson couch 
 pillows. "How she would make me signals of dis- 
 tress and warning," he mused, "if she could hear 
 
BORROWED PLUMES 125 
 
 me carrying on an antiphonal service in her praise 
 with our lodger, who, she would consider, knows 
 her not at all. Well, well 
 
 '"Man, she is mine own, 
 And I as rich in having such a jewel. 
 As twenty seas, if ali their sand were pearl, 
 The water nectar, and the rocks pure gold.' 
 
 You'll forgive an old man's romanticism, Mr. Jeffer- 
 son, I hope?" 
 
 "You are one of the youngest men I know. And 
 if you may quote Shakespeare to your purpose, I 
 may quote good old Doctor Holmes," said Mr. 
 Jefferson, drawing the pillow into an easier position 
 as he spoke: 
 
 "'He doth not lack an almanac 
 Whose youth is in his soul.'" 
 
 To Georgiana Warne, a year out of college, and 
 during that year having sorely missed the many gay- 
 eties of the life she had known for four happy years, 
 the present experience was delightful. She enjoyed 
 every minute of the swift drive over the sixty miles 
 to her cousin's home, enjoyed the arrival there, the 
 meeting with the family and their house guests as- 
 sembled for afternoon tea, the installment in a 
 luxuriously furnished room where Jeannette pres- 
 ently brought her an armful of gowns to choose 
 from for the evening. A small dinner was to precede 
 
126 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 the dance, and all sorts of scheming for Georgiana's 
 pleasure had been fermenting in Jeannette's brain 
 on the way home. 
 
 "I've arranged with Rosalie to put you next her 
 special prize — ^the most wonderful man she knows. 
 All her set are crazy over him, though he belongs in 
 ours fast enough. It's Miles Channing, just home 
 after a year's travel, and as good looking as any il- 
 lustrator ever drew. You see you simply must be 
 your most brilliant self. And here's the way to do 
 it — ^wear this ! " 
 
 She held up before Georgiana's disconcerted gaze 
 such a marvel of colour and cunning as brought a gasp 
 of astonishment and a quick denial: "Oh, my dear? 
 Not that — for me. It's bad enough to wear your 
 things at all, but don't give me something that will 
 make everybody look at me, like that ! " 
 
 "That's precisely what I want," laughed Jean- 
 nette. "And this is a thing I haven't ventured to 
 wear and never shall, though I'm wild to do it. But 
 I couldn't carry it off; you can. Those orange 
 shades will be glorious with your eyes and hair. 
 Besides, as for making you conspicuous above the 
 rest, on account of any gorgeousness of colour or ec- 
 centricity of style, it simply can't be done these days. 
 So put this on and see for yourself. You needn't 
 wear it, of course, if you don't Hke it; but you will." 
 
 Reluctantly Georgiana allowed a slim French maid 
 
BORROWED PLUMES 127 
 
 to slip the marvel of her country's art over the bared 
 shoulders, and the next minute she was staring at 
 herself in a long mirror, while Susette clasped her 
 hands, and gay young Rosalie, passing the door at 
 the moment and summoned to the private view, 
 cried joyously: 
 
 "Oh, Georgiana, you're perfectly stunning! Of 
 course you must wear it, and you'll be the star of the 
 evening." 
 
 Rosalie rushed on, having settled the question 
 out of hand, after the manner of the youthful. 
 Jeannette was laughing as she called her mother in 
 to confirm the decision. 
 
 Mrs. Crofton, languidly interested, surveyed her 
 niece with approval. She was an impressive lady, 
 was Aunt Olivia, and was accustomed to have her 
 opinion carry weight. "It suits you, my dear," was 
 her verdict. "Those who can wear such daring 
 effects should do it, for every scene needs points of 
 light and intensity." 
 
 "And these other frocks," Jeannette declared, 
 pointing to them where Susette had spread them out 
 upon the bed, "are just colourless baby things that 
 anybody can wear." 
 
 "They loot exquisite to me," regretted Georgiana, 
 eying them wistfully. 
 
 Somehow, now that she was here, she did not so 
 much enjoy the thought of appearing in borrowed 
 
128 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 finery, and, since it must be done, would have pre* 
 ferred the simplest white frock in Jeannette's ward- 
 robe. But this was not to be without displeasing her 
 hostesses, and she reluctantly submitted. Susette 
 begged leave to arrange her hair, Jeannette hunted 
 out silk stockings and slippers to match the frock, 
 and Rosalie contributed the long white gloves which 
 completed the costuming. 
 
 When Georgiana was ready to descend she took 
 one last look at the girl in the long mirror, and 
 turned to Jeannette, herself a picture in the delicate 
 colourings which she affected and which set off her 
 golden beauty. "I feel like the old woman in the 
 nursery song," she said, " doubtful of my identity." 
 
 "But you must admit you're simply glorious," 
 cried Jeannette. "I knew you were a beauty, but 
 I didn't know you were such a raving one as this." 
 
 "I'm no beauty," denied Georgiana with spirit. 
 "It's just the clothes. But you — I never saw any- 
 thing so enchanting as you to-night." 
 
 "Delightful! I'm so glad, for — ^there's somebody 
 I want to enchant. Come on," and Jeannette led 
 the way. 
 
 At the foot of the great staircase, about a wide 
 fireplace, Georgiana saw James Stuart with a group 
 of other young men, and noted swiftly that there 
 was no too-striking contrast to be noted between 
 her friend and his faultlessly attired companion^ 
 
BORROWED PLUMES 129 
 
 except that his face and hands wore a deeper coat 
 af winter tan than theirs, and he looked stronger and 
 more virile than any of them. And even in his out- 
 door colouring, there was among them one who 
 rivalled him, the one who, as Georgiana instantly 
 guessed, was the lately arrived traveler. A moment 
 later she met Stuart's eyes and saw his look of as- 
 tonishment as he gazed at her. 
 
 Presently, when those whom she had not already 
 met had been made known to her, she found Stuart 
 at her elbow. "Am I dreaming?" said his voice in 
 her ear, "or is this my chum? I'm almost afraid 
 to speak to you ! " 
 
 "You look awfully nice, Jimps," she returned 
 under her breath. "Yes, isn't it absurd for me to be 
 peacocking like this ? But they made me do it." 
 
 "You take my breath away." 
 
 "Look at Jean," she whispered. "Isn't she the 
 loveUest thing you ever saw in your life ? " 
 
 He looked. "You and she are a pair," he ad- 
 mitted. 
 
 Jeannette came up to them with the tall traveler, 
 and Georgiana found herself looking up into a pair 
 of dark eyes whose glance told her that their owner 
 found her worth studying intently. Miles Channing 
 vrzs of the sort who waste no time in preliminaries. 
 i3y the time she had sat out half the dinner by his 
 side she felt as if she had been under fire for houc«. 
 
J30 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 All her youth and wit responded to his sallies, and 
 she enjoyed the encounter as keenly as a girl might 
 be expected to do, who for a year had seen no men 
 but the slow village swains — always excepting James 
 Stuart, who was her one rehance in time of famine. 
 
 Channing made no attempt to disguise his pre- 
 occupation with the most attractive of the few 
 strangers in the set of young people whom he had 
 known for years. Between the dinner and the 
 dance, Jeannette, who had been observing without 
 seeming to observe, dropped a word in Georgiana's 
 ear: 
 
 "You've done it, dear. I never saw him lose his 
 head so completely. You'll have to be careful or 
 you'll have all the girls down on you. They're crazy 
 over him, you know — ^including Rosalie." 
 
 "Absurd! I shall never see him again, so what 
 does it matter?" retorted Georgiana. 
 
 "Don't be too sure of that. Nothing can stop 
 him when he's interested. And you know you are a 
 witch to-night; anybody would be caught in your 
 snare. I didn't know you were such a clever thing 
 at the game, though I might have guessed it." 
 
 "If I weren't, I might take lessons of you," 
 Georgiana gave back. "You have Jimps slightly 
 delirious, I can see. Is he the one you wanted to 
 enchant? I'm sure you've done it." 
 
 "Isn't he splendid? He looks so much stronger 
 
BORROWED PLUMES 131 
 
 and more interesting than half these boys I've known 
 all my life. I do want him to have a good time." 
 
 "He's having it." 
 
 Georgiana was sure of this, but she wa^ having 
 so good a time herself she didn't mind. More than 
 once she had caught Stuart's eyes across the table, 
 and had noted how they were sparkling. The 
 glance the two exchanged might have been inter- 
 preted to mean: "Fun, isn't it? You play up to 
 your opportunities and so will I. This won't happen 
 again in our lives, perhaps." 
 
 Presently the dancing began, in great rooms cleared 
 for the purpose and decorated with every art of the 
 florist. The music was all of a quality more perfect 
 than any Georgiana had ever heard, and the strains 
 which assailed her ears made her wild to dance to 
 every note. She was besieged by invitations. 
 
 "But I haven't danced for more than a year, and 
 I don't know one of the latest steps," she said regret- 
 fully. 
 
 "We'll soon remedy that," promised Chester 
 Crofton, her cousin, who carried her off into an un- 
 occupied room, where the music could yet be heard, 
 and proceeded to teach her. She was easily taught, 
 having all the foundations after four years of prac- 
 tice among college girls, and she was soon able to 
 go upon the floor with young Crofton and the rest. 
 
 Miles Channing did not dance, but after watching 
 
132 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 for a time — ^while Georgiana was acutely conscious 
 that his eyes constantly followed her — he claimed 
 and bore her oflF before others could prevent. In a 
 palm-shadowed corner well removed from obser- 
 vation he drew a long breath of content and settled 
 down beside her. 
 
 "I hope you will not be too much bored at missing 
 a round or two," he began in the slightly drawling 
 speech which was somehow one of his charms, it 
 was so curiously accompanied by his intent obser- 
 vation. "I haven't danced for so long I can't 
 venture to attempt it, especially with you." 
 
 "I should be the most patient of partners, I'm so 
 unaccomplished myself," declared Georgiana. 
 
 "Nevertheless I shouldn't want to try you. You 
 dance like a sylph, I like an elephant." 
 
 "I don't believe it." 
 
 "You do grudge sitting out, then, do you?" he 
 asked. 
 
 "Not a bit." 
 
 " It wouldn't really matter if you did, for I intend 
 to hold my advantage now I have it. I care more 
 to talk with you than for all the dances on the 
 program. And the time is so short I must make 
 the most of it. You go back to-morrow, I under> 
 stand?" 
 
 "Yes, indeed." 
 
 "And you'll not be here soon again?" 
 
BORROWED PLUMES 133 
 
 "I don't expect to. I'm a very busy person at 
 home and can seldom be spared." 
 
 "That means that whoever wants to know you 
 must come to your home ? " 
 
 Georgiana felt her pulse beats quickening. This 
 was certainly losing no time. She assented to the 
 interrogation, explaining that her father was an 
 invalid and she was his housekeeper. She felt no 
 temptation to represent things to Mr. Channing as 
 other than they were. It was somehow an atone- 
 ment for appearing in her borrowed attire that she 
 should not allow appearances to deceive this new 
 acquaintance into thinking her home the counter- 
 part of her cousin's. The news did not appear in 
 the least to disconcert him. 
 
 '"I should like very much to meet your father," 
 Channing said; and Georgiana liked him for taking 
 the trouble to put it in that way. He instantly 
 added: "And I should like still more to see you in 
 your own home. May I have that pleasure ? " 
 
 "We shall be very glad to see you," she promised, 
 careful of her manner. 
 
 "No matter how soon I come?" 
 
 "I suppose you will allow me to reach home first?" 
 she questioned gayly. 
 
 "Barely. This is Wednesday night. You go 
 home to-mortow — ^Thursday. May I come Satur- 
 day?" 
 
134 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 "You have been living on railway schedules so 
 long you have acquired the habit," she gave back 
 with slightly heightened colour. In the course of 
 her experience she had seen more than one young 
 man change his plans after encountering her, but 
 she had never known one to form new ones as quickly 
 as this. 
 
 "I have discovered that when one wants to reach 
 a place very much, he can't start too soon," he said 
 very low, with such obvious meaning that she had 
 some difficulty in keeping her cool composure. It 
 was not only his words, but his looks and manner 
 which spoke. She had never dreamed that outside 
 of stories men ever really did begin to fire on sight, 
 like this. 
 
 The matter settled, Channing began to talk of 
 other things, but through all his speech and acts 
 ran the visible thread of his instant and powerful 
 attraction to her, so that she was conscious of the 
 colour of it. By the time two dances had gone by 
 and she was sought and found by an eager claimant, 
 the girl was quite ready to get away from this new 
 and decidedly disturbing experience. And when, 
 a little later, she allowed James Stuart to try one 
 of the new steps with her, she had a comfortable 
 sense of having got back upon known and solid 
 ground, after having been swimming in a too-swift 
 current. 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 EARLY MORNING 
 
 YOU'VE 'no idea, Jimpsy," Georgiana said, when 
 she and James Stuart had assured themselves 
 that they were able to suit their steps to each other 
 and were moving smoothly down the floor, " how glad 
 I am to be with some one I know, for a bit." 
 
 "Only some one? Not particularly me?" 
 
 "Yes, particularly you. My brain needs a little 
 rest." 
 
 "There's a compliment for an old friend! But I 
 didn't suppose dancing tired the brain. It's my 
 feet that have bothered me. I've walked all over 
 Jeannette's little toes, but she's perfectly game and 
 won't admit it." 
 
 "I thought you and she were getting on beauti- 
 fully together." 
 
 "So we were. I couldn't see how you and Chan- 
 ning got on together, because you went off and hid 
 somewhere. That's not fair with a perfectly new 
 acquaintance." 
 
 "Didn't you and Jeannette go off and hide some- 
 where?" 
 
 135 
 
136 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 "We're not new acquaintances." 
 
 " Oh, indeed ! How old ones are you ? " 
 
 "A month is a long time compared with one short 
 evening. I never knew, George, you were such a 
 terrific charmer. You've had them all nailed to- 
 night; and as for Channing — ^well Only I sup- 
 pose he's a shark at the game himself. He shows it. 
 Better look out." 
 
 "What an excellent opportunity a dance is for old 
 friends to give each other good advice." Georgiana 
 smiled up into his eyes. 
 
 He closed his own for an instant. "Don't do 
 that; it dazzles me." 
 
 "Nonsense. You're learning the game yourself. 
 Jeannette's been teaching you. We're all finding 
 each other out to-night. I had no idea she could 
 sparkle so." 
 
 "You're the sparkler. She simply glows with a 
 steady light." 
 
 "Well, I like that!" 
 
 "You like everything to-night. You remind me 
 of a peach — on fire." 
 
 "Jimps!" Georgiana's soft laughter assailed his 
 ear. "I believe we're both a bit crazy with this 
 sudden leap into dissipation — such dissipation! Just 
 remember where we'll be to-morrow night." 
 
 "I don't want to — except that I'll be with you. 
 We'll talk it all over by your fire, eh?" 
 
EARLY MORNING 137 
 
 "Of course. There'll be that much left, anyhow. 
 Is this over? Thank you, Jimps, for the best dance 
 I've had to-night." 
 
 "No use trying it on me," he murmured as he 
 released her. "What's the use of capturing what 
 you've already got?" 
 
 By and by it was all over and Georgiana was 
 mounting the stairs with Jeannette, smiling back at 
 Certain faces in the disordered spaces below, where 
 flowers lay about the floors and a group of young 
 fellows, belonging to Rosalie's house party, were mak- 
 ing merry before they broke ranks. 
 
 In Jeannette's room by a blazing fire the girls 
 held brief session, sitting with unbound hair and 
 swinging slippered feet, and cheeks still flushed with 
 the night's gayety. 
 
 "Jimps and I were imagining ourselves sitting by 
 the fire in our old living-room to-morrow night," said 
 Georgiana softly, staring into the flame with eyes 
 which reflected little points of light. " It will seem 
 like a dream then, but we shall talk it all over, and 
 remember what fun we had, and how lovely every- 
 body was to us — and how beautiful you were in that 
 blue-and-silver frock." 
 
 "You dear thing, you ought to have such times 
 often and often ! " cried Jeannette. " But — O Georgi- 
 ana, you have times I envy you! While you are 
 breaming of our flowers and music I shall be dream- 
 
138 XJNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 ing of the dear old house, and the jolly evenings 
 you gave me there, and envying you — oh, envying 
 you " 
 
 "Envying me! Are you crazy, child, or are you 
 just " 
 
 "Just speaking the truth. You can't think how 
 many times I shall think of you sitting there with 
 your three splendid men " 
 
 "Jean! What are you talking about?" 
 
 "About Uncle David, and Jimps, and Mr. Jef- 
 ferson- — " 
 
 "But they're not mine," protested Georgiana, 
 laughing. "Except Father Davy." 
 
 "Not— Jimps?" 
 
 "Oh, of course he's my friend, my very good friend. 
 And Mr. JeflFerson's only a 'boarder,'" — she made a 
 little grimace at the word. "You speak as if I had 
 them all about me all the time." 
 
 "But you do evenings, don't you?" 
 
 "They were there much more while you were 
 visiting me than they will be now. Jimps has heaps 
 of arrears to make up; he let lots of work go while 
 you were there, you must know, my dear. As for 
 Mr. Jefferson — ^he may never come down any more, 
 now that Jimps won't be going up to beg him to make 
 a fourth for your entertainment. So don't imagine 
 me holding court with those three retainers. It will 
 mostly be just Father Davy and I with a volume of 
 
EARLY MORNING 139 
 
 Dumas or Kipling. Isn't it odd how my pale little 
 father loves the red blood of literature?" 
 
 "Just the same " but Jeannette did not finish 
 
 that. She began afresh: "And oh! how I shall miss 
 you, George — as Jimps calls you. Somehow I musti 
 have you before long for a real visit here, or wherever 
 I may be for the summer." 
 
 "Thank you, Jean; but I can never get away." 
 
 "I'll arrange it somehow. That makes me think 
 — Miles Channing was dreadfully disappointed that 
 you were going in the morning. I've no doubt he 
 will manage to see you off somehow. I think it's 
 too bad of you to insist on going before luncheon. 
 Think how little sleep you'll have." 
 
 She gave Georgiana a penetrating look as she said 
 it, but saw only a pair of beautiful bare arms thrown 
 up over a mass of dark locks, as her cousin, with a 
 clever imitation of a half-smothered yawn, answered 
 merrily: "Then we must go to bed this minute or I 
 shall never have strength of mind to get up. And I 
 can't leave Father Davy to the tender mercies of 
 Mrs. Perkins longer than I can help. She'll give 
 him everything that is bad for him, in spite of the 
 best intentions." 
 
 It was a wide-awake Georgiana, nevertheless, who, 
 fully dressed for the drive, leaned over Jeannette's 
 bed at ten o'clock that morning and kissed a warm 
 velvet cheek, murmuring: "Don't wake up, Jean., 
 
140 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 We're just off after breakfast. I'll write soon. 
 You've been a perfect darling, and I'm more grateful 
 than I can tell you." 
 
 "Oh, I'm dead to the world, I'm so tired!" moaned 
 the girl in the bed. "I always have to pay up 
 so for dancing all night. But you," — she lifted 
 languid eyelids to see her cousin's smiling fresh- 
 ness of face and air of vigour — "why, you look as 
 though you had had twelve hours' sleep — and a cold 
 plunge!" 
 
 "I've had the cold plunge," admitted Georgiana, 
 laughing. "And I'm 'fit as a fiddle,' as Jimps says. 
 He sent his good-bye to you and told me to tell you 
 he'll never forget you — never! " 
 
 "Tell him I'll not let him forget me — or you, either. 
 Oh, how I hate to have you go, both of you!" 
 
 Through a silent, sleeping house Georgiana and 
 Stuart stole, the only member of the family up to 
 see them off being Mr. Thomas Crofton himself, the 
 oldest person under the great rooftree. 
 
 "My dear, you must come again, you must come 
 often," he urged, holding Georgiana's hand and 
 patting it with a paternal air. He was a handsome 
 man in the early sixties, with graying hair and tired 
 eyes. "You have done a great deal for our Jean; she 
 looks much stronger than when she went to your 
 home. But neither she nor Rosalie can enter the race 
 with you for splendid health. That comes from your 
 
EARLY MORNING 141 
 
 country life, I suppose. I envy you, I envy you, my 
 dear." 
 
 "Come and see us, Uncle Thomas — do. Father 
 Davy would be so happy; you know he's such an 
 invalid. But his mind and heart are as young as 
 ever." 
 
 "I will come; I will drive down some day, thank 
 you, Georgiana. I should like to see David again. 
 Mr. Stuart, come again, come again. Good-bye; 
 sorry your aunt was too much done up to see you 
 off this morning, my dear. Good-bye." 
 
 As the two emerged from the door a tall figure 
 sprang up the steps. "What luck! I was passing 
 and I suspected you were just getting off. Good 
 morning! Can you possibly be the girl I saw danc- 
 ing seven hours ago ? " 
 
 "I don't wonder you ask, Mr. Channing," laughed 
 Georgiana. "Evening frocks and traveling clothes 
 are quite different affairs." 
 
 "Ah, but the traveling clothes are even the nicer 
 of the two, when their wearer looks " Chan- 
 ning glanced at Stuart standing by. "Confound 
 you, sir!" said he, with a genial grin, shaking hands. 
 "Since you're going to drive all the way home with 
 Miss Warne can't you give me the chance to say 
 something pleasant to her?" 
 
 "You can't make it too strong to suit me," ob- 
 served Stuart — and remained within hearing. 
 
142 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 "Saturday, then, if I may," said Channing, look' 
 ing as far into Georgiana's eyes as he could see, which 
 was not very far. She wore a close little veil, which 
 interfered with her eyelashes, and clearly she could 
 not lift her glance very high. 
 
 Then they were off, with Channing waving fare- 
 well, his hat high in air. A hand at another window 
 also waved, and Georgiana knew Jeannette had seen 
 this last encounter. 
 
 "Well, for sixteen hours' work," remarked James 
 Stuart grimly, as the car gathered headway and the 
 house was left behind, "I should say you had done 
 some fairly deadly execution. Saturday, eh? Why 
 does he delay so long? Isn't to-morrow Friday — • 
 and a day sooner? " 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 A COPYIST 
 
 THE old study of David Warne was a square, au- 
 sterely furnished room on the second floor of 
 the manse, opposite the sleeping-room now occupied 
 by Mr. Jefferson. It contained several plain book- 
 cases, filled mostly with worn old volumes in dingy 
 yellow calf or faded cloth. An ancient table served 
 for a desk, with a splint-bottomed chair before it. 
 On the walls hung several portrait engravings, that 
 of Abraham Lincoln occupying the post of honour 
 among them. The floor was covered with a rag 
 carpet of pleasantly dimmed colours, and an old 
 Franklin stove, with widely opening doors and a 
 hearth with a brass rail, completed the furnishing of 
 the room. 
 
 This was the place now swept and dusted and 
 warmed for the joint labours of the writer of books 
 and his new assistant. Mr. Jefferson had moved 
 the materials of his craft to the new working quar- 
 ters: he had brought up wood for the fire and had 
 made that fire himself, according to the custom he 
 had inaugurated soon after his arrival. The day 
 
 143 
 
144 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 and hour for the beginning of that which James 
 Stuart insisted on designating as a partnership had 
 arrived. At ten o'clock that April morning, when 
 Georgiana's housework should have reached a stage 
 when she could safely leave it for a more or less ex- 
 tended period, the study door was to close upon the 
 two and shut them away undisturbed for the first 
 details of their affair in common. 
 
 Georgiana had been up since before daybreak, 
 planning and executing a system which should make 
 all this possible. Now, at a quarter before ten, 
 with all well in hand, she flew to her room for certain 
 personal touches which should transform her from 
 housewife to secretary. Two minutes before the 
 clock struck she surveyed herself hurriedly in her 
 small mirror. 
 
 "You really look very trim and demure," she re- 
 marked to her image. "Your colour is a bit high, 
 but that's exercise, not excitement. Still, you are a 
 little excited, you know, my dear, and you must be 
 very careful not to show it. It's a calm, cool, busi- 
 ness person the gentleman wants, George, not a 
 blushing schoolgirl. It would spoil it at once if 
 you should look conscious or coquettish. So now — 
 remember. And forget — for the love of your new 
 occupation — ^forget that Miles Channing is coming 
 again to-night — again, after one short week! What 
 does it matter if he is ? Run along and be good ! " 
 
A COPYIST I4S 
 
 Half a minute left in which to run downstairs, kiss 
 Father Davy on his white forehead, and receive his 
 warm "Bless you, dear, and bless the new work. 
 May you be very happy in it!" and to walk quietly 
 upstairs again and knock at the door of the study. 
 It opened under Mr. Jefferson's hand, and to the 
 cheerful sound of snapping wood on the open hearth 
 of the old Franklin stove he bade her enter. 
 
 His smile was very pleasant, his steady eyes seemed 
 to take note of everything about her in one quick 
 glance, as he said with a wave of his hand: "Wel- 
 come to my workshop! You see I've swept up all 
 the chips, but we'll soon make more." 
 
 "You manage to keep your workshop remarkably 
 free from chips," she commented. "You must have 
 a great system of order." 
 
 "Pretty fair. I should be hopelessly lost if I let 
 this mass of material become disordered. Will you 
 take this chair? Must we begin at once or may we 
 talk a little first?" 
 
 "I think we had better begin. You know there 
 are just two free hours before I must be back down- 
 stairs, if you are to eat, this noon." 
 
 He laughed and she noted, as she had noted many 
 times before, how young he looked at such moments, 
 grave as his face could be when in repose. 
 
 "Very well," he agreed. "I have no doubt you 
 will work at this task as you do at the loom, with all 
 
146 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 your might, and I shall have to lengthen my stride 
 to keep up with you. But that promises well. One 
 is likely to fall into habits of soldiering when one 
 works alone. You have no idea how carefully I 
 have to keep certain favourite books out of sight when 
 I want to accomplish big stretches of work. And 
 in this room — ^hard luckf — I see so many old treasures 
 that I'm going to have a bit of trouble in resisting 
 temptation." 
 
 His eyes led hers to the old bookcases. She 
 nodded. "It's a shabby old collection, but it's vefy 
 dear to father's heart." 
 
 "It well may be. Gibbon, Hume, Froude, Par- 
 ton — Lamb, Johnson, Carlyle — Hugo, Thackeray, 
 Reade, and TroUope — Keats, Shelley, and the rest. 
 What matters the binding? Some time I must 
 read you a passage in good old Christopher North 
 that appeals to me tremendously. No, not now. Miss 
 Warne; I see I must fall upon my task without 
 delay or you will be slipping away on the plea of 
 bad faith on my part. Well " 
 
 He turned his chair toward the table and took 
 up a notebook. His face settled instantly into an 
 expression of serious interest. 
 
 "I am going to ask you first," said he, "to copy 
 in order upon a fresh sheet each reference which you 
 find marked with a red cross, so that the references 
 may be all together. Be very exact, please, and 
 
A COPYIST 147 
 
 very legible. German and French words are easily 
 misread by the typist who will put this work finally 
 into copy for the printer." 
 
 Georgiana, glancing at the first marked reference, 
 found cause to credit this statement, for it read : 
 
 Cagnetto: Zur Frage der Anat. Beziehung zwischen Akrome- 
 galie u. Hypophysistumor, Virchow's Archiv., 1904, clxxvi., 115. 
 Neuer Beitrag. f. Studium der Akromegalie mit besonderer 
 Beriicksichtigung der Frage nach dem zusammenhang der 
 Akromegalie mit Hjrpophysenganggeschwulste, Virchow's Archiv., 
 1907, Ixxxvi., 197. 
 
 " It would be best to print the words as clearly as 
 I can, wouldn't it?" she suggested, suppressing her 
 desire to laugh. 
 
 "That depends on your handwriting. Try a line 
 and let me see, please." 
 
 When she had shown him a specimen of the 
 peculiarly readable script which she had cultivated 
 in college, he signified his approval with a hearty 
 "Good! That's a splendid hand for work, the hand 
 of a workman, in fact. I congratulate myself. 
 Go ahead with the jaw-breakers, only verifying each 
 reference before you leave it." 
 
 Thus the new task began, and thus it continued 
 day after day — ^not always quite the same, for 
 Georgiana soon recognized that her employer was 
 diversifying her labours as much as he consistently 
 could by changing the nature of the copying. Now 
 
148 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 and then he refreshed her endurance and rested her 
 tired hand by asking her to read aloud to him several 
 just finished pages of his own writing, walking the 
 floor meanwhile or sitting tipped back in his chair 
 with closed eyes while he listened with ears alert for 
 error of statement or infelicity of phrase, and she won* 
 dered at the character of the words she read. 
 
 Of course she discovered at once what was the 
 general subject of the book. No essay was this, no 
 work of fiction, no "history of art," as Stuart had 
 scornfully suggested. It could be only the sternest 
 of research and experience which dictated such sen- 
 tences as these : 
 
 The especial dangers to be contended with are that the ethmoid 
 cells may be mistaken for the sphenoids; that we may go too 
 low and enter the pons and medulla; that, laterally, we may 
 enter the cavernous sinus, and above, that we may injure the 
 optic nerve. 
 
 It was all more or less of a puzzle to her, but it 
 was one which her taskmaster never explained fur- 
 ther than the revelations of each day explained it. 
 She understood that he was a scientist, that he un- 
 doubtedly had been an operator in some surgical 
 field or was putting into shape the work of another in 
 that field, but what he now was besides a writer of 
 technical books she had no manner of idea. 
 
 " But I really enjoy it, Father Davy," she insisted, 
 when she came down to him one day with hotly 
 
A COPYIST 149 
 
 flushed cheeks and shaking hand after a particularly 
 protracted siege of copying involved and incompre- 
 hensible material. "It's monotonous in a way, but 
 it's intensely interesting, too. Mr. Jefferson is so 
 absorbed in it, it's fun to watch him. To-day he 
 was as happy as a boy over a letter he had just re- 
 ceived from a Professor Somebody, a great authority 
 in Vienna. It seemed it absolutely confirmed some 
 statement he had made in a monograph he wrote last 
 year which had been challenged by several scientists. 
 The way he fell to writing his next paragraph after 
 he had read that letter made one imagine he was 
 writing it in his own heart's blood. He read it 
 aloud to me." She laughed appreciatively at the 
 recollection. 
 
 "Could you make anything of it?" inquired Mi. 
 Warne with interest. 
 
 "Not very much. It was about the pituitary 
 body; — oh, I've come to have a great awe of the 
 pituitary body, it seems to be responsible for so 
 many things. He chuckled over it like a boy, and 
 said to me, 'Forgive these transports. Miss Warne, 
 but this is food and drink to me. I wish I could 
 explain it to you so that you might rejoice over it 
 with me. Some day I will, when we are not so 
 busy.' I hope he will. There's enough that I do 
 understand to make me interested." 
 
 "I see you are — and rejoice, my Georgiana. Do 
 
ISO UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 you remember what Max Miiller says, echoed by 
 many another, ' Work is life to me; and when I am no 
 longer able to work, life will be a heavy burden ?* " 
 
 He smiled as he said it, but his daughter read the 
 seldom-expressed longing in the cheerful voice and 
 laid her cheek for an instant against his. "He's 
 quite right. And you have your work, Father Davy, 
 and you're doing it all the time. I think you preach 
 much more effectively now than you did in the pulpit, 
 even when you don't open your mouth. And when 
 you do open it angels couldn't compete with you!" . 
 
 They laughed softly together, though Mr. Warne 
 shook his head. "It's a curious thing," he mused, 
 "that the weaker the body gets the harder does the 
 mind have to strive to master it. But, thank God — 
 'so fight I, not as one that beateth the air.' " 
 
 "'Not as one that beateth the air,'" murmured the 
 girl. "I should say not, Father Davy. As one that 
 delivereth hard blows on his own body, his poor, tired 
 body. Oh, if I had one tenth the self-control " 
 
 At which she ran away, as was quite like her, when 
 emotion suddenly got the better of her. The dark- 
 est cloud on this girl's life was the frail tenure of her 
 father's existence. The rest could be endured. 
 
 The work in the upstairs study went steadily on, 
 in spite of the fact that James Stuart railed and that 
 Miles Channing came at least once in seven days, 
 driving the sixty miles in a long, swiftly speeding car 
 
A COPYIST I SI 
 
 which brought him to the door of the manse before 
 the early May sunset, and which took him back when 
 the shadows lay black upon the silent road. Two 
 hours in the morning, three in the afternoon, Geor- 
 giana gave to the rigid performance of the tasks Mr. 
 Jefferson set her, while outside below the windows at 
 which she worked lay her garden, beloved of her affec- 
 tion, beseeching her not to neglect it. 
 
 It was hard sometimes not to betray how she 
 longed to be outside, as she wrote on and on, copying 
 the often difficult and uninteresting language of the 
 more technical part of her employer's construction. 
 And one afternoon, lifting her eyes to let them dwell 
 on a great budding purple lilac tree, with the warm 
 breath of the breeze which had drifted across the 
 apple orchard fanning her cheek, and all the notes of 
 rioting spring in her ears, she did draw in spite of 
 herself one deep sigh of longing which she instantly 
 suppressed — ^too late. 
 
 Her companion looked up quickly, noted the flush 
 in the cheek and the hint of a weary shadow under 
 the dark eyes, and suddenly pushed aside his paper. 
 Then he drew it back, blotted it carefully, laid it 
 with a pile of others, and capped his pen. He 
 wheeled about in his chair to face his assistant. 
 
 "Put down your work, please," he commanded 
 gently; "precisely where you are. Don't finish that 
 sentence." 
 
152 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 Georgiana looked up, astonished. "Not finish 
 the sentence?" 
 
 "No. Did you never stop in the middle of a 
 sentence ? " 
 
 "I'm afraid I have. But I didn't suppose you 
 ever did." 
 
 "I don't. But I want you to. Please. That's right. 
 You will know where to start it again to-morrow." 
 
 "To-morrow?" In spite of herself her eyes had 
 lighted as a child's might. 
 
 "Even so. To-day we are going for a drive in all 
 this beauty — ^if I can find a horse and some kind of a 
 vehicle, and you will go with me. It's only three 
 o'clock. We can have a long drive between now and 
 the hour when you invariably disappear to make 
 magic for our appetites. How about it?" 
 
 "I can keep on perfectly well, jjou know," she 
 said, with pen still poised above her paper. 
 
 "But I can't." He was smiling. "Now that 
 the other plan has occurred to me, I can't keep on." 
 
 " Did you see inside my mind ? " queried Georgiana, 
 putting away her copying with rapid motions. 
 
 "Suddenly I did. I've been rather blind, a hard 
 taskmaster. I've been conscious of what was going 
 on outside when I went for my walks, but the work 
 is absorbing to me and I have kept you too steadily 
 at it. We both need a rest," he added as she shook 
 her head. 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 OUT OF THE BLUE 
 
 TWENTY minutes afterward he drove up to the 
 door with the best that the village liveryman had 
 to give for the highest price his customer could offer — 
 a tall black horse of fair proportions, and a hurriedly 
 washed buggy of the type in vogue in country dis- 
 tricts. But as Georgiana went down the path she 
 was conscious that the figure which stood hat and 
 reins in hand awaiting her would lend dignity to 
 any vehicle, short of a wheelbarrow, in which he 
 might be seen to ride. 
 
 Then presently the pair were driving along coun- 
 try lanes in the very midst of all the burgeoning 
 beauty of the season, and Georgiana was like a cap- 
 tive bird let loose. Her companion as well responded 
 to the call of Nature at her loveliest, and the tireless 
 worker of the study seemed changed at a word to a 
 bright-eyed idler of the most carefree sort. The two 
 gave themselves up without restraint to the enjoy- 
 ment of the hour. 
 
 "I wonder how long it is," said Mr. Jefferson, 
 letting the reins lie loose at a leafy curve of the 
 
 <53 
 
1 54 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 road while the black horse willingly walked, "since 
 I have had a drive like this. Not for ten years at 
 least." 
 
 "You've lived always in a great city?" 
 
 "Since boyhood — in the heart of it." 
 
 "And have driven motors, not horses, for those 
 ten years." 
 
 "Yes, like everybody else. But I spent all my 
 summers as a boy on my grandfather's farm, and 
 there I drove horses and rode them and did acro- 
 batic feats on their bare bacj^s. I was a wild Indian^ 
 a cowboy, and a captain of cavalry by turns. Those 
 were happy days, and on a day like this they don't 
 seem long ago." 
 
 "They can't be so dreadfully long ago," she dared, 
 with a glance at the interesting profile beside her. 
 
 "Can't they? Don't I look pretty aged compared 
 with your youth?" 
 
 "I'm not so remarkably young," she retorted. 
 
 "Aren't you? You are about ten years younger 
 than I. That's a big leap and must make me seem 
 a grandfather indeed." 
 
 " But you don't know how old I am." 
 
 "I could come pretty close to it," said he with a 
 quick look. 
 
 " How could you know ? " 
 
 "When you see a spray of apple blosson^ like 
 those" — ^he pointed toward a mass of pink and white 
 
OUT OF THE BLUE 155 
 
 at the stage of perfection beyond an old rail fence — 
 "can't you tell at a glance whether they've been out 
 a day or a week?" 
 
 "I should say that if things had happened to them 
 to make them feel as if they'd been out a week when 
 they had been out only two days " 
 
 "A heavy rain, for instance? In that case we 
 should be deceived — perhaps. But in the case of a 
 human being those heavy rains sometimes only 
 mature without fading Hello, ^what's this ? " 
 
 A small and very ragged boy had emerged suddenly 
 from a meadow gateway, his face convulsed with pain 
 and fright. He nursed one hand in the other and the 
 colour had deserted his round cheek, leaving it 
 pallid under its freckles. The only house nearby 
 was an abandoned one and there were no others for 
 some distance in either direction. 
 
 Mr. Jefferson stopped his horse. "Does it hurt 
 badly, lad?" he asked in the friendliest of tones, 
 which yet had a bracing quality. "Don't you want 
 to let me see if I can help it ? " 
 
 The boy stood still, tears silently making their 
 way down his face. Giving the reins to Georgiana, 
 Mr. Jefferson jumped out and gently examined the 
 small hand, the middle finger of which, as the on- 
 looker could plainly see, was badly distorted and 
 somewhat swollen. The skin, however, did not seem 
 to be broken. 
 
IS6 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 "We can make that more comfortable right away," 
 the man promised the little boy. "Sit down on the 
 grass for a minute or two, laddie, while I find some- 
 thing I want." 
 
 He pulled out a handkerchief, as yet folded and 
 fresh from its ironing, and handed it to Georgiana. 
 "Will you tear that into strips an inch wide, please, 
 while I take a look back here for a bit of wood?" 
 and he disappeared down the road, while Georgiana 
 with the aid of her strong white teeth tore the fine 
 linen as he had bidden, and spoke comfortingly to 
 the little fellow, who seemed glad enough to have 
 fallen into friendly hands. 
 
 When he shortly returned Mr. Jefferson wa^ 
 rapidly cutting and whittling a stick into a little 
 splint, which he then wound carefully with a strip 
 of the handkerchief until it was covered from view. 
 Then he took the injured hand in his own capable 
 ones — his assistant had often noted those hands — 
 and said quietly, " I'm going to hurt you just a min- 
 ute, Uttle man, but you'll be all right, so be game," 
 and in two deft motions he had pulled and twisted 
 the broken finger, and had set it straight as the others, 
 with but one sharp outcry from the owner. In less 
 time than it can be told in, the set finger was bound 
 securely with its neighbouring finger to the padded 
 splint, and the whole neatly bandaged with the torn 
 linen, the entire procedure accomplished with the 
 
OUT OF THE BLUE 157 
 
 rapidity and skill of the practised hand. No amateur 
 surgery this, as Georgiana understood well enough. 
 
 "There," said Mr. JeflFerson, drawing forth another 
 handkerchief as spotless as the first — she wondered 
 if he went always thus provided against emergency 
 — and improvising a little sling in which the band- 
 aged hand swung comfortably, "I think you'll do. 
 Rest a bit and then go home, and tell your mother 
 not to touch that finger for three weeks. By that 
 time it will be as good as new, only be careful with 
 it when you first use it. Good-bye, laddie, and bet- 
 ter luck next time." 
 
 Georgiana saw the uninjured hand of the boy close 
 over something bright as the man's hand left it, 
 and heard a low sound which might have been almost 
 anything indicative of surprise and joy. Then the 
 black horse was moving on, and Mr. Jefferson was 
 saying: "Weren't we talking about apple blossoms?" 
 
 "We had finished with them, I think," Georgiana 
 replied, wondering if he really were going to offer no 
 explanation of the hint of mystery which had been 
 about him ever since her work with him had begun. 
 
 But he did not offer any, only went on with the 
 pleasant talk with which he had all along beguiled 
 the way. Georgiana was recognizing this after- 
 noon, more than she had yet done, what a well- 
 stored mind was possessed by this unassuming man, 
 whose manner and speech yet did not lack that 
 
IS8 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 , quality of quiet assurance which is the product only 
 of genuine knowledge and experience. 
 
 The black horse was within a mile of home, pass- 
 ing through the last stretch of woodland which would 
 justify the walking pace, in which, greatly to his 
 astonishment, he was being allowed to indulge at 
 all such points, when a motor car, slowing down be- 
 side him, caused him to lay back his ears in dis- 
 pleasure. 
 
 Georgiana, turning, beheld the handsome, eager 
 face of Miles Channing as he leaned toward her, his 
 hand hushing his engine as he spoke. 
 
 "Miss Warne — ^Mr. Jefferson — forgive me for 
 stopping you! I should have gone on and waited 
 for you if I had been sure you were on your way 
 home. But I'm a messenger from the Croftons; 
 they beg you to let me bring you back with me to- 
 night." His eyes rested on Georgiana. 
 
 "To-night ? Is anybody ill ? " 
 
 "Oh, no, no; nothing like that. It's for quite a 
 different reason they want you; only I'm to ask you 
 not to question me. You're to come on faith, if you 
 will. And they'll agree to have you back in the morn- 
 ing by breakfast-time, if you insist." 
 
 Georgiana looked puzzled, but, being human, she 
 was naturally interested and attracted by this mys- 
 terious plan. "It's very odd," she mused, "but 
 if father can spare me " 
 
OUT OF THE BLUE 159 
 
 "I will undertake to see that your father is not 
 lonely this evening," said Mr. Jefferson's quiet voice 
 at her side. "And please don't bother about to- 
 morrow morning or to-morrow at all, if you would hke 
 to be away." 
 
 "If Mr. Jefferson wouldn't object " began 
 
 Channing; but Mr. Jefferson anticipated him. 
 
 "Please don't hesitate to go on with , Mr. Chan- 
 ning, if you would like to gain a little time," he sug- 
 gested to his companion. "He will have you at 
 home before I can reach the bend in the road." 
 
 Georgiana looked round at him, "I prefer to 
 finish one ride before I begin another," she declared, 
 smiling. "It's only a mile, Mr. Channing; we shall 
 be there nearly as soon as you. Please go on." 
 
 It thus came about ten minutes later that James 
 Stuart, walking up to his home from a field where he 
 had been superintending an interesting new departure 
 in cultivation, caught sight first of a now-familiar 
 roadster of aristocratic lines whose appearance there- 
 abouts had become most unwelcome, and shortly 
 thereafter of a less pretentious vehicle, being rapidly 
 drawn by a still more familiar black horse, and oc- 
 cupied by two people whom it gave Stuart no acute 
 pleasure to see together. 
 
 "Well, I should say George was displaying her 
 admirers in great shape this afternoon," he said 
 gloomily to himself. "It's a wonder I'm not trailing 
 
i6o UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 on behind with a wheelbarrow. But I vow I'd like 
 to know since when her contract with Jefferson has 
 taken them out into the country — and in working 
 hours, too!" 
 
 Afterward it was all rather a strange memory to 
 Georgiana when she recalled it. She had flown about 
 to prepare the appetizing early supper with which 
 she was accustomed to serve her small family, and 
 to which she now added a delicacy or two on ac- 
 count of its seeming the natural thing to ask Mr. 
 Miles Channing to remain rather than to allow him 
 to go to the small village hotel. Then she had cleared 
 her table and left the after-work to the neighbour 
 who was to come to the rescue as before. She had 
 dressed with hurried fingers for the trip, and had 
 driven away with a devoted escort who spared no 
 pains to make her feel that he was exceedingly pleased 
 at the success of his mission. 
 
 There was no place in her memory for something 
 she did not see nor would have thought of imagining 
 significant if she had seen it. When she left the 
 house Mr. Jefferson was in his room, searching for a 
 book from which to read aloud to his self-assumed 
 charge of the evening. When he heard Georgiana's 
 blithe cry of farewell to her father in the doorway 
 below, he left the bookcase and went with a quick 
 step to the window. He watched the car driven by 
 Mr. Channing out of sight down the road; then he 
 
OUT OF THE BLUE i6i 
 
 descended to the garden, pipe in hand. Before he 
 returned to the house to take his place by the eve- 
 ning lamp and begin the reading to the-gentle invalid 
 stretched on the couch, he had covered many fur- 
 longs up and down the straggling pathways and had 
 consumed much more than his usual quota of choice 
 tobacco. And though all about him had been the 
 May environment at its loveliest, through all his 
 marching up and down he had never once looked up. 
 
 Miles away, and ever more miles away, Georgiana 
 had flown like the wind in the swift car under its 
 skilfully guiding hand. The drive was a blurred im- 
 pression of slowly gathering rosy twilight, of the 
 odour of the apple blossoms — somehow a different and 
 more seductive fragrance than it had been in the sunlit 
 afternoon — and always there was the sense of there 
 being beside her a presence which disturbed. Chan- 
 ning's low laugh, his vibrant voice in her ear, the 
 things he said, half serious, half earnest, always full 
 of an only slightly veiled intent — the girl who had 
 spent so many days of her life in hard study or 
 harder housewifery could do no less than yield her- 
 self for the hour to the pulse-quickening charm of it 
 and forget everything else. 
 
 Just as twilight settled into dusk and for the first 
 time the headlights of the car came on with a long 
 reach like a golden ribbon along the road, Channing, 
 suddenly slowing down, a few miles out of the city. 
 
i62 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 began a rapid speech on a subject so unexpected that 
 it fairly took his hearer's breath away. 
 
 "It's not fair of me to tell you, but I've simply got 
 to get in the first word. You must pretend you 
 haven't heard it, but if there's any persuading to be 
 done I want my share, and want it first. Your 
 cousins are going to invite you to sail with them next 
 week for a summer in England after a fortnight in 
 Paris — Paris in June! You don't know what that 
 means ; you can't even imagine it. I can — I know it — 
 don't I know it!" He laughed softly. "Since 
 they're to be away and won't need her they'll send 
 down their housekeeper — ^the most competent person 
 in the world — ^to stay with your father and make him 
 absolutely comfortable, so you don't have to hesitate 
 on that score." 
 
 "It's perfectly wonderful, but" — Georgiana was 
 staring at him through the dusk — "but — oh, I 
 couldn't, Mr. Channing! how could I? Father is so 
 feeble; something might happen." 
 
 "Not in summer. Things don't happen to elderly 
 people in summer. It's in winter — pneumonia and 
 things like that. And don't you know he'd be de- 
 lighted to have you go? He wouldn't let you miss 
 such a chance; I know him already well enough for 
 that." 
 
 "But, you see, I'm engaged to work for Mr. Jef- 
 ferson " 
 
OUT OF THE BLUE 163 
 
 "Well, he'll be all right; he's a traveled man 
 himself; anybody can see that. He wouldn't stand 
 in the way of your good, not for a moment; of course 
 he wouldn't. He'd urge you to go. Why, there's 
 nothing else for you to do. Think of the glorious 
 summer we'll have — glorious! Why, I " 
 
 "What do you mean? I don't understand." 
 Georgiana felt her cheeks grow scarlet in the dark- 
 ness. 
 
 "Mean? What could I mean? Why, I'm going, 
 too, of course. Sailing when you do. Invited to 
 spend a month in Devon with the Croftons — and 
 you." His voice sank lower. "And that fortnight 
 in Paris — oh, I'll be in Paris, too, no doubt of that! 
 I'll show you what Paris is like on a June evening. 
 Do you think I'd want to send you out of this coun- 
 try if I weren't going, too ? Not I — Georgiana! " 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 "great luck!" 
 
 FATHER DAVY, are you sure, sure?" begged 
 his daughter. 
 
 "Sure that I want you to go, daughter? Very 
 sure. What sort of father should I be if I were willing 
 to deny you this great pleasure merely to insure 
 my own comfort? And I shall be comfortable. 
 Why should I not be, with the good Mrs. Perkins to 
 look after me, and our fine friend Mr. Jefferson to 
 bear me company in the evenings, as often as he 
 can? And with James Stuart, who is like a son — ■ 
 and wth your letters arriving with every foreign 
 mail? Dismiss these fears, my dear, and take your 
 happy chance to see something of the Old World. 
 Many a delightful evening will we have together 
 next winter, you and I, over the photographs you will 
 bring back, while you discourse to me of your ad- 
 ventures." 
 
 Thus Mr. David Wame in his most reassuring 
 manner, while his daughter studied his delicate, 
 pallid face, her heart smiting her for being willing 
 to leave him to the loneliness she knew, in spite of 
 
 tfi4 
 
"GREAT LUCK!" 165 
 
 all his protests, he would suffer in her absence. And 
 yet opportunities like this one did not occur every day, 
 might not come again in her lifetime. And every- 
 body was conspiring to make it possible for her. 
 
 "It goes without saying," Mr. Jefferson had told 
 her at once, "that all other engagements should be 
 cancelled in the face of such an invitation as this. 
 We will all look after your father for you. And as 
 far as your work with me is concerned, don't give it 
 another thought. I shall make rather slower prog- 
 ress without you, of course, but when you return we 
 will take great strides and complete it well within the 
 limit I have set. So go by all means, and good luck!" 
 
 As for James McKenzie Stuart, his words of per- 
 suasion seemed to be tempered by various other 
 emotions than those of unselfish desire for Georgi- 
 ana's pleasure. 
 
 "Of course it's great, and there's no doubt that 
 you must go," he said. He was sitting upon the 
 rear porch of the manse, looking off toward Georgi- 
 ana's garden, on the second evening after her return 
 from the hurried drive to the Croftons'. "I'll do 
 all I can for your father, of course. But don't ask 
 me to console the book-writer." 
 
 Georgiana laughed merrily. "He'll not need any 
 consolation, Jimps. Nor you either. Jeannette told 
 me to tell you that she'd write to you once a fort- 
 night — if you'd answer." 
 
i'66 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 "No! She didn't say that?" 
 
 "Yes, she did, and meant it. I'll write, too, of 
 course. You'll be deluged with letters and picture 
 post-cards. You ought to be satisfied with so much 
 attention." 
 
 "Letters are all right — ^we won't say anything 
 about the post-cards — and I hope you'll both keep 
 your promises. But when I think of all these sum- 
 mer evenings without you " 
 
 He heaved a gusty sigh which Georgiana had no 
 reason to doubt was genuine. How much heavier 
 would be his spirits, if he were told that Miles Chan- 
 ning was to be of the party, she had full conscious- 
 ness. She was aware of the futility of attempting 
 to keep this unwelcome news from him longer than 
 the day of her departure, but she had not thus far 
 ventured to mention it. 
 
 "I shall miss these evenings myself," she said 
 soberly. "After all, Jimps, I expect there'll be 
 nobody gladder to get back home than I. I shall 
 see this old garden in my dreams." Then quickly, 
 as another deep-drawn breath warned her that senti- 
 mental ground was dangerous, she cried: "Oh, but, 
 Jimps! I haven't told you of the last and nicest thing 
 that wonderful girl has done for me. She insisted 
 on my bringing home the dearest little traveling 
 suit of some kind of lovely summer serge that doesn't 
 spot and doesn't muss and is altogether adorable. 
 
, "GREAT LUCK!'» 167 
 
 She insists it's not becoming to her, and it really 
 isn't; but I almost know she planned not to have it 
 becoming so she could give it away to me. And a 
 perfect beauty of a little hat — and a big, loose coat, 
 to wear on the steamer, that looks absolutely new, 
 but she vows it isn't, and that she's tired of it. Was 
 ever anybody so lucky as I ? " 
 
 '"It certainly does take clothes to stir up a girl," 
 was Stuart's cynical comment. "Talk of separation 
 and they pretend to be as sad over it as you are; 
 but let 'em think about the clothes they're going to 
 wear and their spirits leap up like soda water." 
 
 " Poor old Jimps 1 Doesn't he know the sustaining 
 qualities of pretty clothes? Too bad! But really 
 it's lucky I have something to sustain me, it's such a 
 pull to make myself go. I didn't suppose I'd ever 
 leave Father Davy this way while he is so feeble, 
 but he's the most urgent of all to send me off, and I 
 know I really can bring him back wonderful plea* 
 sure." 
 
 Thus the talks ran during the few days which 
 elapsed before Georgiana's departure. Every spare 
 hour was full with preparation, from the packing of 
 the trim little steamer trunk which arrived by ex- 
 press, a gift from Uncle Thonias, to the careful mend- 
 ing and putting in perfect order of every article 
 Father Davy would be likely to wear during the 
 Vrhole period of his daughter's absence. Georgiana's 
 
i68 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 thoughts as she worked were a curious mixture of 
 happy anticipation and actual dread. 
 
 "If only I could go as Jeannette is going," she 
 said to herself, "without a care in the world except 
 to plan how she will fill the summer, and to make 
 sure her maid puts in plenty of silk stockings to last 
 till she can buy some more in Paris. When I went 
 to college it was with the fear that I ought not to 
 accept father's sacrifice, even though Aunt Harriet 
 was with him then, and he was far, far stronger than 
 he is now. I've never done anything in my life 
 without a guilty feeling that I ought not to be doing 
 it. Why can't I do now as they all bid me — drop my 
 cares and take my fun, like any other girl? I will — 
 I must. It's only fair!" 
 
 The excitement of anticipation grew upon her as 
 the busy hours slipped away; the regrets and anxie- 
 ties diminished. With every day came fresh and 
 delightfully interesting contributions to her out- 
 fitting from Jeannette or Aunt Olivia — a handsome 
 little handbag of silk and silver to match the travel- 
 ing suit; a snug toilet case of soft blue leather, hold- 
 ing everything mortal woman could want on train 
 or ship; a great woolly steamer rug to use on ship- 
 board. Georgiana could only catch her breath at 
 such kindness, and dash off* hasty notes of spirited 
 thanks, and protests against any more of the same 
 sort. But in spite of her pride it was impossible to 
 
"GREAT LUCK!" 169 
 
 resist accepting these and other gifts, they seemed 
 prompted by such genuine affection. 
 
 The day came; the trunk was closed and strapped. 
 Mr. JeflFerson had done the strapping, coming upon 
 the prospective traveler in the upper hall, where 
 she was trying in vain to bring leather thong and 
 buckle into the proper relations. 
 
 "Haven't I yet proved my right to the title of 
 man in the house?" he inquired, as he did the trick 
 with the masculine ease which is ever a source of 
 envy to those whose hands are weaker. 
 
 "Indeed you have; but I shall never get over feel- 
 ing that I have to do everything for myself." 
 
 "It will be some one's privilege to teach you better 
 some time," was his rejoinder. "Meanwhile, those 
 of us who are near at hand are only too happy to act 
 as deputies." 
 
 Between her "three men," as Jeannette had called 
 them, Georgiana was allowed to do little for herself 
 at the last. She was to meet her cousins as the 
 train went through their city, but Stuart had in- 
 vited himself to accompany her to that point, thus 
 giving himself a chance, as he said, to clinch that 
 bargain with Jeannette concerning the promised 
 letters and post-cards. 
 
 Therefore Georgiana's farewells were not to be 
 all said at once, for which she was thankful. It was 
 quite enough to take leave of Father Davy, who was 
 
I70 UNDER THE COUNTRY SK\ 
 
 looking, it seemed to his daughter's eyes, on that 
 sultry June morning, a shade paler and weaker than 
 usual. 
 
 "It's the sudden summer heat, dear," he said with 
 the brightest of smiles, as with her arms about him 
 she questioned him; "nothing more. There, there, 
 my little girl; don't let your fancy get the better of 
 you. I'm very well indeed, and shall soon be used 
 to the summer weather. Go — and God be with you, 
 dearest ! " 
 
 "It doesn't matter about His going with me if 
 He'll only stay with you," murmured Georgiana, 
 vainly struggling with herself, that she might take a 
 bright and tearless farewell of this dear being. 
 
 "He will go with you and He will stay with me," 
 said Mr. Wame cheerfully, "so be at rest. Here — 
 I've written you a steamer letter. Read it when the 
 good ship sails, and think of me as rejoicing in your 
 happiness." 
 
 It was over at last, and she was off. At the gate 
 she had turned to Mr. Jefferson, who was carrying 
 her handbag to the village stage, from which Stuart 
 had leaped to run up to the porch and say a word of 
 cheer to Mr. Wame, sitting in a big chair. 
 
 "I can't tell you what a comfort it is, Mr. Jeffer- 
 son," she said as she gave him her hand, "to know 
 that you are here. I haven't worked with you for 
 six weeks not to understand that it is no mere 
 
"GREAT LUCK!" 171 
 
 author of a scientific treatise who is staying with my 
 father." 
 
 "No?" He smiled into her lifted eyes, and his 
 look was that of a friend whom one may trust. 
 "Well, Miss Georgiana, if it is of any support to 
 you to be told that whatever knowledge or skill I 
 may have is all at the service of your father, then I 
 am glad to assure you of that fact. I will do my 
 best for him always. Good-bye, and may it be a 
 happy time from first to last." 
 
 His hand held hers close as he said these words, 
 and continued to hold it for a moment longer while 
 he gave her a long and intent look. She felt a strange 
 pang; it was almost as if she could think he was 
 going to miss her. Yet she knew better. If he 
 missed her it would be only because he had become 
 accustomed to having her about. No sign of any 
 more uncommon interest had he ever shown. 
 
 Then Stuart, farther down the path, was calling, 
 "Come, George, we're all but late now"; and she 
 was in the old stage and it was lumbering off down 
 the road, while neighbours waved from their win- 
 dows, and Georgiana strained her eyes to get a last 
 look at the figure on the porch. 
 
 On the train she and Stuart somehow found little 
 to say to each other in the ride of an hour and a half 
 to the city station where the rest of the party came 
 aboard. Stuart did not catch sight of Miles Chan- 
 
172 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 ning until the last minute of the train's stop. He had 
 filled the earlier period of the ten-minute detention 
 in the station with a hurried talk with Jeannette, 
 during which Georgiana noted that the two seemed 
 thoroughly absorbed in each other. It was small 
 wonder, for Jeannette had never been more radiantly 
 lovely than in the distinguished plainness of her 
 traveling costume. She seemed very happy as she 
 presumably bargained with Stuart for letters, and 
 Jimps himself had never looked more interested in 
 any proposition than in that one. 
 
 Suddenly, however, the wait was over. Georgia 
 ana turned from greeting Channing, who had just 
 come aboard followed by a porter with his luggage, 
 when she heard Stuart's voice in her ear: 
 
 "George, is he going?" 
 
 "I believe he is," she admitted, trying not to let 
 her colour rise beneath the accusing expression in his 
 eyes. 
 
 "And you didn't mention it?" 
 
 "Didn't I? He's Jeannette's and Rosalie's friend, 
 not mine." 
 
 "No; he's something more than a friend to you — 
 or means to be. I might have known he'd work this 
 scheme. It's good-bye to you in earnest then." 
 
 "Jimps! Please don't. It's nothing of the sort. 
 I " 
 
 The train began to move. But instead of a hasty 
 
"GREAT LUCK!" 173 
 
 leave-taking and a leap from the steps, James Stuart 
 stood still. "I believe I'll go on for another hour," 
 he said coolly, with a glance at his watch. "I can 
 get off at the next stop. Meanwhile — Miss Jean- 
 nette, the observation platform seems to be nearly 
 empty. Would you care to sit out there a while, 
 since I've no chair in here now and the car is full?" 
 
 Georgiana, sitting facing Miles Channing — she 
 wondered who was responsible for the fact that his 
 chair proved to be next hers — saw his eyes, as he 
 glanced toward the rear of the car, follow Stuart 
 and Jeannette. 
 
 "He's a mighty nice fellow, isn't he?" he com- 
 mented pleasantly. "Too bad he isn't coming 
 along. Seems tremendously interested in Jean- 
 nette, and it's quite evident that she likes him — as 
 much as is good for him. These partings — ^well, I'm 
 sorry for him. But he means to make the most of 
 this last hour. It would be unkind of us to follow 
 them out there, wouldn't it ? — though I was about to 
 propose going out when he stole a march on me." 
 
 "It would be very unkind," agreed Georgiana 
 gayly. "Yes, I wish he could have the whole jour- 
 ney; he deserves a rest and change. He's one of the 
 finest men I know." 
 
 Now that Channing was beside her, with his hand- 
 some face and faultlessly dressed figure easily the 
 most attractive man in the car, she could not be- 
 
174 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 grudge Jeannette this final hour with Stuart, though 
 her pride smarted a little under the change in his 
 manner toward herself. She had read in her cous- 
 in's face, as Jeannette's eyes met Stuart's when she 
 first caught sight of him, that she was much more 
 than commonly glad to see him, and the observer 
 had noted with what an air of joyous comradeship 
 the two had hurried, laughing, down the aisle to the 
 rear door after Stuart's proposal. 
 
 But the hour was soon over. It was not until the 
 train stopped that Jeannette and Stuart returned 
 to the others inside the car, and then the farewells 
 were necessarily hurried. With a smiling face Stuart 
 shook hands with them all, leaving his best friend to 
 the last, according to the unwritten law of farewells. 
 
 When he came to her he looked very nearly straight 
 into her eyes — not quite — it might have been her 
 lower eyelashes upon which he brought his glance to 
 bear. 
 
 "Great luck, Georgiana," he said distinctly, "and 
 all kinds of a good time." 
 
 "Good-bye, Jimps, and thank you very, very much 
 for coming," she responded. 
 
 It was hardly to be believed that James Stuart 
 would not lower his voice and murmur some last 
 word for her ear alone, for this had long been his 
 custom. Instead, he gave her a brilliant smile—, 
 and turned again to Jeannette. ' 
 
"GREAT LUCK!" 175 
 
 *'Good-bye, once more," he said— and added some- 
 thing under his breath, in response to which Jean- 
 nette nodded, smiUng, and went with him to the 
 front end of the car, where she alone was the last to 
 wave farewell as he looked back from the platform. 
 
 Georgiana caught a final glimpse of him as he ran 
 along it with bared head, and the whole party waved 
 hands and called parting salutes, in which she joined. 
 Then Jeannette came back, and Georgiana looked 
 searchingly at her, her own heart experiencing an 
 uncomfortable sort of depression as she saw the ex- 
 quisite flush on her cousin's cheek and the light in 
 her eyes. 
 
 "'Dog in the manger!'" Georgiana sternly re- 
 proached herself in her own thoughts. "Isn't it 
 enough for you to have one man looking devotion at 
 you, but you must claim everybody in sight ? " And 
 she made a determined and partially successful 
 eflFort not to mind that things had turned out as 
 they had. Only—she and James Stuart had been 
 friends a very long time, and she was sorry to have 
 the parting from him tinged by a cloud of misunder- 
 standing. It would have been much better, she 
 admitted to herself now, to have told him frankly in 
 the beginning that Miles Channing was to be of the 
 party. 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 A LITTLE TRUNK 
 
 IT WAS a journey of only a few hours to the dock 
 where the party were to take ship, the sailing 
 being set for early afternoon. Before it seemed 
 possible they had left the train and were being con« 
 veyed by motor to the pier. It was at the first whiff 
 of salt-water fragrance that Georgiana felt a sudden 
 onset of dread of the sailing of the great ship. And 
 when she caught sight of the four black funnels rising 
 above the mass of smaller smokestacks and masts 
 and spars which lifted beyond the dingy buildings of 
 the pier, she experienced an unexpected and discon- 
 certing longing to run away — ^back to her home. 
 
 Her father's face rose before her as she had seen 
 it that morning, pale and worn, the inner brightness 
 of the undaunted spirit shining through the thinnest 
 of veils. What if anything should happen to that 
 beloved face, so that she should never set eyes on 
 it again? The thought shook her with a throb of 
 pain. 
 
 They were on the pier, they were ascending the 
 gangway, they were on one of the lower decks and 
 
 176 
 
A LITTLE TRUNK 177 
 
 entering the elevator which was to lift them past 
 many intermediate decks to that one, next the high- 
 est of all, where their quarters lay. And when they 
 came out upon that upper deck Georgiana was dimly 
 conscious that they were a party to attract attention, 
 even among many people evidently of the same class. 
 Any party to which Aunt Olivia and Jeannette 
 belonged, she felt, must necessarily expect to be no- 
 ticed. Of her own contribution to the party's dis- 
 tinction she was entirely unaware. 
 
 B'lt now that she was actually on shipboard, 
 where during the last fortnight she had so many 
 times imagined herself, Georgiana found to her dis- 
 tress that she could not for a moment banish the 
 thought, the image itself, of that gentle, suffering 
 face at home. Not that she wanted to forget it — ■ 
 not that; but she did want, now that her decision was 
 made, to be able to appreciate what a happy oc- 
 casion it was and how fortunate the circumstances 
 which had brought about her presence here, the last 
 place in the world she had expected ever to be in. 
 
 She entered the stateroom which she was to share 
 with her cousins, and was amazed at the size and 
 comfort of it. It was half filled with flowers and 
 baskets of fruit and other offerings sent for the girls, 
 with two boxes addressed to herself. Both Stuart 
 and Mr. Jefferson had sent her flowers. As she 
 examined them a hurried steward appeared with a 
 
178 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 third box, which proved to be also for her — a small 
 box, which had come not from a city florist, like the 
 others, but by mail. 
 
 It had been put up by unskilled hands, as its 
 crushed shape and damp exterior clearly showed. 
 She opened it, wondering, and found a little bunch of 
 garden flowers, sadly wilted, their limp stems pro- 
 truding from the moistened newspaper in which 
 they were wrapped. She searched for a card, and 
 found it. In a hand she knew well, a little cramped, 
 a little wavering, but full of character, she read 
 these words: "Blessing her, praying for her, loving 
 her." 
 
 Georgiana's heart gave a great leap of fear. What 
 were those lines, what the context ? She knew them 
 — knew them well. She had never heard her father 
 quote them, and never read with him the lines from 
 which they came. Did he know them, use them with 
 intent, not imagining she would place them? As 
 she well remembered, they were from "Enoch 
 Arden," and she had spoken them herself, in a 
 dramatized version of that pathetic poem, the last 
 winter of her college life. And they ran thus : 
 
 When you shall see her, tell her that I died 
 Blessing her, praying for her, loving her. 
 
 At the moment she was alone in the stateroom, the 
 two girls having been an instant before summoned 
 
A LITTLE TRUNK 179 
 
 by their brother to meet some friends who had come 
 on board to see them off. She stood staring at the 
 touching little bunch of faded bloom, knowing just 
 how tender had been the thought of her which had 
 prompted the effort. It had not occurred to Mr. 
 Warne that there was any other way of sending 
 flowers to ships than by mailing them from one's own 
 garden. As for the words, she knew well enough 
 that he had not dreamed of disturbing her content 
 by quoting them, yet — she could but feel that the 
 reason why they came to his mind when he was 
 searching there for a bit of tender sentiment to send 
 with his parting gift was the thought of his own possi- 
 ble end being not far away. And if he, too, were think- 
 ing of that 
 
 With a fast-beating heart Georgiana stood staring 
 out of the open porthole at the scene of activity 
 outside. Far below her she could see the gangway 
 over which she had come on board. In less than an 
 hour — ^the party had arrived early — ^that gangway 
 would be withdrawn, the water would slowly widen 
 between pier and ship, and there would be no turn- 
 ing back. Could she go — could she bear to go — ■ 
 and take the chance? Were her fears only the nat- 
 ural forebodings of the unaccustomed traveler, or 
 was there a real reason why she should never have 
 allowed herself to be persuaded to leave one whose 
 hold on life was so frail, the only being in the world 
 
i8o UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 to whom she was closely bound? She closed her 
 eyes and tried to think. . . , 
 
 Mrs. Thomas Crofton, turning from a group of 
 friends at the touch of her niece's hand upon hers, 
 would have drawn the girl into the circle and pre- 
 sented her with genuine pride in her, but the low 
 voice in her ear deterred her: 
 
 "Aunt Olivia, please forgive me, but I must ask 
 you to come away with me just for five minutes. 
 Please—" 
 
 In a temporarily forsaken angle of the deck Geor^- 
 ana laid her case before her aunt, speaking with 
 rapid, shaken words, but none the less determinedly. 
 Mrs. Crofton listened with an astonished face and 
 with lips which protested even before they had the 
 chance to speak, 
 
 "I know just how dreadful it will seem to you all 
 — that I shouldn't have known my duty long ago. 
 But I see it now — oh, so plainly! And it's not only 
 my duty, it's my love that takes me back. I can't 
 stop to tell you how I feel about leaving you all when 
 you've been so kind, so wonderful to me. I can 
 tell you that another time. But the thing now for 
 me is to get off this ship before it sails. I must ! " 
 
 "But, Georgiana, my dear child " 
 
 "Oh, please don't try to keep me, Aunt Olivia! 
 My mind is made up. I can't tell you how it hurts 
 to do it, but I don't dare to leave my father. If any- 
 
A LITTLE TRUNK i8i 
 
 thing happened to him I could never forgive my- 
 self — never. He isn't well. It would do no good 
 to take me with you now. I should be so miserable 
 I should spoil it all for you." 
 
 "Georgiana, listen." The calmly poised woman 
 of the world held the clinging hand in a firm, warm 
 grasp, the low voice spoke evenly. "Many people 
 feel just as you do, dear, on the eve of sailing. Some 
 are made actually ill, even quite old travelers. But 
 they know that it is pure hysteria and they fight it 
 off, and afterward they are able to laugh at their 
 fears. My dear, you are quite mistaken about there 
 being any danger threatening your father. He is in 
 the best of hands, and he himself would be sadly 
 disappointed " 
 
 It was of no use. Mrs. Crofton took her niece to 
 her stateroom, and, sending for Jeannette and Rosa- 
 lie, even for Uncle Thomas, tried in vain to shake her. 
 
 Ten minutes before the hour of sailing, Rosalie, 
 rushing about the deck in search of Miles Channing, 
 finally discovered him and burst out under her breatK 
 with the appalling news: 
 
 "Georgiana's going back! She's got the idea 
 somehow that her father mayn't live till she comes 
 home. We can't do a thing with her. Oh, do come 
 and see if you can't show her how absurd it is to do 
 such a thing!" 
 
 "Going back!" Miles Channing seized Rosalie's 
 
i82 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 arm. "Where is she? Why, she can't go back; 
 the ship's all but casting off. What on earth is the 
 matter with her? She's too sensible a girl to lose 
 her head at the last minute. Good heavens! We 
 won't let her go; we'll keep her in her stateroom till 
 it's too late. Take me there — quick!" 
 
 They dashed along the narrow passageways, until, 
 coming from the Croftons' suite, they encountered 
 Georgiana pale but quiet, Jeannette flushed scarlet 
 and in tears, and Mrs. Crofton evidently sorely ext 
 asperated, but keeping herself well in hand. . 
 
 Channing walked straight up to Georgiana. 
 "Will you give me five minutes?" he asked. 
 
 She shook her head with a faint smile. "It's nc 
 use, Mr. Channing. I shall not change my mind 
 again. I should have known it in the first place; 
 and there mayn't be five minutes to spare. I must 
 be in sight of the gangway." 
 
 "I'll take you there," he said, and glanced at the 
 others in a way which clearly said: "Give me my 
 chance." They understood and let him lead Georgia 
 ana on ahead toward the place she sought. 
 
 He was a clever man and an experienced one in the 
 ways of women, even though his years among them 
 were not yet many. He realized that argument was 
 of little use; there was only one weapon left with 
 which to fight the girl's determination, and it was 
 one he was not loath to use, though he had not meant 
 
A LITTLE TRUNK 183 
 
 to speak so plainly until quite different surroundings 
 invited. 
 
 "This is a hard blow to my hopes," he said very 
 low, as they stood where they could watch the 
 manoeuvres of the officers and men who were in 
 charge of the embarkation of passengers. "I can't 
 tell you what this voyage with you has meant to 
 me; I don't know how to give it up. Now, please 
 listen. Won't you do this? Come across with us, 
 and then, when you are actually over — it's only a 
 five-day crossing, you know — if you still feel you must 
 go back, tve'U not try to prevent you. You'll be 
 away then only a fortnight, and nothing in the world 
 can go wrong at your home in that little time. And 
 meanwhile we shall have had this voyage together 
 ' — Georgiana?" 
 
 His voice with its meaning inflections would have 
 been very hard to resist, if the girl had not by 
 aow set her teeth upon her determination. Having 
 suffered already so much humiliation for the sake of 
 her sudden conviction, her pride would not have let 
 her change again, though a voice from the skies had 
 then and there assured her that all was and would 
 be well with her father. So once more she shook 
 her head and moved toward the gangway. Behind 
 her, ready to follow her if must be, a deckhand waited 
 with btr luggage. The Croftons, their faces showing 
 much ioncern, had remained in the background wait- 
 
184 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 ing for a signal from Channing that he had or had 
 not prevailed. 
 
 "If you go ashore," threatened Channing, "I shall 
 go with you. And the ship will sail without me." 
 
 This roused her to speech. "No, no; don't even 
 say such a thing — ^just to frighten me. Good-bye, 
 Mr. Channing, and — I'm truly very, very sorry," 
 
 "I mean it," he urged hotly. "The whole thing 
 is nothing to me without you; you know that per- 
 fectly well." 
 
 "I should never forgive you," she said, turning to 
 look once into his eyes, as if to convince him of the 
 reality of her prohibition; and he saw there all the 
 spirit he had reckoned with, and saw, too, such a 
 world of possibilities for one who could arouse that 
 intense and purposeful nature, that he was sw/ept off 
 his feet. 
 
 "But you will forgive me if I come back by the 
 next ship," he said quickly. 
 
 "No. Not if you come a day sooner than you 
 intended." 
 
 Once more their glances met, like blows; then 
 Georgiana moved rapidly toward the gangway, where 
 the sailor in charge was beckoning. The Croftons, 
 one and all, hurried forward, and the retreating 
 traveler suff'ered their embraces. 
 
 "My child, you are forcing us to leave you here 
 alone to look after yourself, after our promising to 
 
A LITTLE TRUNK 185 
 
 take every care of you," mourned Mrs. Crofton. "I 
 shall be most uneasy about you." 
 
 "No, no, dear Aunt Olivia, you mustn't be. I 
 am a perfectly independent person, and I can take 
 myself home without a particle of trouble. Good-bye 
 — and please, please forgive me, all of you!" 
 
 She was off at last, with Jeannette's hot tears 
 on her cheek, Rosalie's reproachful and all but angry 
 final speech, "I didn't think you'd actually do it, 
 Georgiana Wame!" ringing in her ears; and Chester's 
 explosive, derisive prediction following her, "By 
 thunder, but you'll be a sorry girl when it's too late. 
 I can tell you that!" — to make her feel that nobody 
 really understood or sympathized with her. 
 
 It was Uncle Thomas who applied the one touch of 
 balm to his niece's sore heart: 
 
 "David Wame is a rich man, my dear girl, to have 
 you," he said gently, as he kissed her. "Don't feel 
 too badly over disappointing us; it's all right. Take 
 good care of yourself going home, and give my love 
 to your father." 
 
 She smiled bravely back at him as she ran down the 
 gangway with half a score of belated visitors to the 
 ship. In a moment she was only one of the crowd of 
 people who were watching the huge bulk ©f the liner 
 draw almost imperceptibly away from the pier. 
 Through blurred vision she looked up to the spot 
 where they were all waving at her and smiling — 
 
i86 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 thank heaven, they were smiling, as it was obviously 
 their duty to do, no matter what their feelings. 
 
 When their faces had become indistinguishable, 
 and the great ship had backed far out into the waters, 
 and was headed toward the Atlantic, Georgiana 
 turned to a porter at her elbow. "No," she said, 
 "I didn't sail. Yes, this trunk is mine; it's to go 
 back." 
 
 Somehow, as she followed the man through the long, 
 dingy building, the thing which drove home the 
 ache in her heart was the sight of the little, aristo- 
 cratic-looking, leather-covered steamer trunk. Uncle 
 Thomas's gift, packed with so many high hopes, now 
 riding alone on a great truck. Of all the baggage 
 which that truck had borne to the lading of the 
 ship, hers was the only little, lonely piece to come 
 back! 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 REACTION 
 
 IN THE darkness of the summer midnight Georgi- 
 ana descended from the "owl" train, the only 
 passenger, as it happened, to alight at the small 
 station. She had hoped to slip away unobserved 
 for the half-mile walk home, but the station master 
 was too quick for her. He was a young station 
 master, and he had known Georgiana Warne all 
 his life — from afar. 
 
 "Well, I certainly did think I'd seen a ghost," 
 said he, confronting her. "I thought you'd gone to 
 Europe. Get a message to come back? Your 
 father ain't took sick, has he?" 
 
 "No, I hope not. I — something happened to 
 make it best for me to come back." 
 
 "Well, that's too bad, sure," said he, curiously 
 regarding her. "Say, wait five minutes and I'll 
 walk down the road with you. It's pretty late for 
 you to be out alone." 
 
 "Thank you, Mr. Parker; I don't mind a bit, and 
 I'm anxious to get on. I've only this small bag to 
 carry, and it's bright moonlight. No, truly, please 
 don't come. Good-night, and thank you." 
 
 187 
 
188 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 Could this really be herself, Georgiana Warne, 
 she wondered, as she made her escape and walked 
 rapidly away down the road under the high arches 
 of the elms. How had it come about? Why was 
 she here, she who had expected to be out on the first 
 reaches of the great deep when midnight came this 
 night ? As she passed silent house after silent house, 
 familiar and yet somehow strangely unfamiliar in 
 the light of what might have been, it was hard enough 
 to realize that she had had this wonderful chance to 
 stay away for two happy months from the sober 
 little old place, and had herself relinquished it. 
 
 Before she knew it she was nearing her home, the 
 old white house standing square and stern in the 
 moonlight — she had been seeing it all the way in 
 the train. She loved it dearly, no doubt of that, 
 but it had been no attack of homesickness which had 
 brought her back to it. 
 
 As she came up the path she saw, past the sweeping 
 branches of the great trees which surrounded the 
 house, that Mr. Jefferson's windows were still alight. 
 This was no surprise, for she knew he had often 
 worked till late hours before she began to help him; 
 and it looked as if, now that he had to continue 
 alone, he meant to keep up the rate of advance by 
 working overtime. 
 
 Georgiana stole upon the porch and tried the door. 
 It was bolted as usual. She slipped around the 
 
REACTION 189 
 
 house, and tried the side and rear doors in turn, to 
 find them fast. She had had no plan as to how 
 to make an undisturbing entrance at this hour, but 
 had counted on being able to discover some un- 
 guarded point. She and her father had never bean 
 careful as to thorough locking of the house in a 
 neighbourhood where thefts were almost unknown, 
 but evidently their boarder, accustomed to city 
 ways and chances of trouble, had taken pains to 
 make all fast. 
 
 There seemed to be only one thing to do, and 
 Georgiana did it. After all, it was probably better 
 that somebody should know of her return, in case 
 she had to go about the house and make any betray- 
 ing sounds. She stooped to the gravel path, and 
 scooping up a handful of pebbles flung them up at 
 one of the lighted windows, where they rattled like 
 small bird shot upon the wire netting of the screen. 
 
 It took a second fusillade before the absorbed 
 worker within was attracted and appeared at the 
 window, a black figure against the yellow radiance 
 ofthe oil lamp. 
 
 "It's some one who belongs here," Georgiana 
 called softly. "Please come down very quietly and 
 let me in." 
 
 "Wait a minute," returned the voice above. 
 
 In less than that minute the door swung softly 
 open, and the tall figure, clad in loose shirt and 
 
I90 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 trousers, the former open at the neck and revealing 
 a sturdy throat, stood before the applicant for ad- 
 mission. There was no light upon Georgiana, for the 
 moonlit yard was behind her. 
 
 "What can I do for you?" Mr. Jefferson was 
 beginning in a pleasant tone, as of one not at all 
 disturbed by being summoned at this hour, when a 
 voice he had heard many times before said, with 
 an odd thrill in it, as if it struggled between tears and 
 laughter: 
 
 "You can let me in and try not to consider me an 
 idiot. I got my father on my mind and couldn't 
 sail, so I came back. That's absolutely all there is 
 of it." 
 
 "My dear girl!" Mr. Jefferson put forth a hand and 
 took hers, as he came out upon the porch. "Of 
 course, I beg your pardon," he added, releasing her 
 hand after one strong pressure, "if you consider that 
 my rather natural surprise isn't apology enough. 
 But — ^you can't mean that the ship — and the party — 
 have sailed without you ? " 
 
 "Just that. Is — is my father as well as he was 
 this morning?" 
 
 "He was quite as well, apparently, at bedtime. 
 The heat has been trying, but he has borne it with- 
 out complaint." 
 
 "I don't know what I expected," confessed Geor- 
 giana rather faintly; "but I don't think I expected 
 
REACTION 191 
 
 that. I'm very thankful. I'll come in and slip up- 
 stairs. Thank you for coming down." 
 
 She would stay for no more; it seemed to her that 
 she could bear no further explanations to-night. 
 As if he understood her, Mr. Jefferson was silent as 
 he followed her in, bolted the heavy door, and took 
 from her the handbag she carried. He deposited 
 this at the door of her room upstairs, and spoke 
 under his breath in the darkness relieved only by the 
 rays which shone from the open door of his own room 
 at the front of the hall : 
 
 "Good-night — and welcome back!" 
 
 It was almost daylight when she fell asleep, and 
 she wakened again at the first sound of Mrs. Per- 
 kins's footsteps in the kitchen below her. She 
 dressed slowly, her heart heavy with the sense of 
 having made a probably needless sacrifice. With 
 the waking in the familiar old room, all the realization 
 of that which she had lost had come heavily upon 
 her. Why was not the sunlight pouring in through 
 portholes, bearing the refreshing breezes from the 
 sea, instead of beating in over the hot tin roof of the 
 ell upon which her windows looked ? Was it merely, 
 as Aunt Olivia had warned her, the hysteria of the 
 inexperienced traveler? Why had she not at least 
 accepted Miles Channing's eminently reasonable 
 suggestion that she make the voyage, giving her 
 emotions time to cool? At the longest, if she made 
 
192 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 an immediate return, she would have been absent 
 but little more than a fortnight. 
 
 But she dressed with unusual care none the less, 
 and when she descended the back stairs she was 
 looking as fresh and trim as ever in her life. She 
 encountered the good Mrs. Perkins in the kitchen 
 and had it out with her, receiving the first encour- 
 agement she had felt that somebody would think 
 her rational in her return. 
 
 "Well, I must say," declared that lady, standing 
 still, as if she had been struck, in an attitude of aston- 
 ishment, "while Fm more than sorry for you to lose 
 your trip, Georgie, I shall feel safer now you're back. 
 Your father cert'nly does look awful peaked to me 
 and kind of weak-like, more so than I ever noticed 
 before. Perhaps it's just because I felt the respon- 
 sibility settlin* down on my shoulders the minute 
 you was out of the house. And I guess he was 
 goin' to miss you pretty awful much; though, of 
 course, he wouldn't say so." 
 
 Georgiana took in her father's tray when it was 
 ready, quite as usual, her heart beating fast as she 
 entered and beheld the white face against the 
 propped-up pillows. After the first gasp of surprise 
 she saw the unwonted colour flow into the pale 
 cheeks. 
 
 "My dear, dear child," he said, as she set down the 
 tray and flew to clasp him in her arms, "this is — ^this 
 
REACTION 193 
 
 i» almost more than I can grasp. What has hap- 
 pened ? Is the sailing of your ship deferred ? " 
 
 "My sailing on it is deferred," she told him. "I 
 couldn't leave you. Father Davy; that's the simple 
 truth. Your daughter is an infant-in-arms." 
 
 She did not try to make it clear to him; but let 
 him guess the most of her reason for returning, and 
 was rewarded by his fervent: "Well, dear, it was a 
 very wonderful thing for you to do. But you should 
 not have done it. You should have trusted the good 
 Lord to take care of me, as I bade you. You must 
 do it yet. We will arrange for you to follow your 
 Uncle Thomas's party on the next boat. I cannot 
 have you lose so much just for me." 
 
 "It's no use," she asserted, her eyes studying the 
 blue veins so clearly outlined on the fair forehead. 
 "I've made my decision; I ought to have made it 
 that way in the beginning. So long as you need me 
 I shall not leave you." 
 
 'At the breakfast table she met Mr. Jefferson. It 
 was only twenty-four hours since she and he had 
 breakfasted together, but somehow it seemed to 
 Georgiana as if at least a week had gone by. Mr. 
 Warne was seldom present at the first meal of 
 the day, and it had come to seem very natural to 
 Georgiana to sit down with her boarder and pour 
 his coffee and talk with him. This morning, how- 
 ever, there was a curious constraint in the girl's 
 
194 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 manner. After the first interchange of observations 
 on the promise of even more extreme heat than on 
 the preceding day and the possibilities of dress and 
 diet to suit the trying conditions, the talk flagged. 
 
 "I am strongly tempted," said Mr. JeiFerson, as 
 he rose after making an unusually frugal meal of 
 fruit and coffee, "to let up on work till there comes a 
 change in the weather. I believe I shall try how it 
 feels to idle a little. You surely will itidorse that, 
 Miss Warne, as far as you are concerned ? " 
 
 "No," she said quickly, sure that this plan was 
 the result of consideration for herself; "as far as I 
 am concerned I should much prefer to work. I 
 am sure you can give me something to do, even if 
 you are not working yourself." 
 
 "Do you mean that? Then if you do, I shall be 
 with you, though I think it would be good for you 
 to rest. This last week has been pretty full for you, 
 even though you haven't been with me on the book." 
 
 She shook her head. "I want to go on with it," 
 she insisted; and he agreed. 
 
 News in a small village travels fast, and Georgiana 
 was fully prepared to have James Stuart appear 
 with the first fall of dusk. He came through the 
 hedge at the foot of the garden, and found her on the 
 seat under the old apple tree w'tiich was her favourite 
 resort. His greeting was full of the astonishment 
 which had been his all day. 
 
REACTION I9S 
 
 "My word, George, but I never would have be- 
 lieved this! How on earth did you come to do it?" 
 
 "I had to," she said simply and rather wearily. 
 She had explained to at least twenty persons that 
 day, as well as she could explain. She was not willing 
 to confide to any one the incident of the flowers 
 and the card which had brought about the impulse 
 to return that had hardened so quickly into action. 
 She had listened to all kinds of comments on the 
 situation, some few sympathetic, but most of them 
 curious and critical. Many had said to her that 
 they never would have believed Georgie Warne 
 would ever change her mind about anything. Others 
 had added that perhaps it was a good thing, since 
 her father certainly was pretty feeble and nobody 
 knew when he might take a turn for the worse. Alto- 
 gether, it had not been a happy day for the object 
 of the village interest. 
 
 Stuart sat down beside Georgiana on the old 
 bench which bore his initials from one end to the other 
 of it, the earliest ones hacked out during his small 
 boyhood, the later more than once coupling Georgi- 
 ana's with his own. His hand, as he settled into 
 place, rested on one of these very monograms. 
 
 "It seems like the natural thing to say I'm glad 
 to see you back," he said slowly, "but — ^there's a 
 reason why I can't say it at all." 
 
 "Then don't dream of saying it." Georgiana 
 
»96 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 leaned her head listlessly against the seamy old tree 
 trunk behind her. 
 
 "It's not that I wanted you to go', you know I was 
 altogether too selfish for that," he went on. "But 
 — something happened at the last that made me 
 entirely reconciled to having you go. Can you guess 
 what it was?" 
 
 "Possibly." 
 
 "But you can't. Of course I was pretty well 
 dashed at finding Channing booked for the trip. 
 But — I got over that when^I made up my mind 
 to come, too." 
 
 "To come, too!" The head resting against the 
 tree trunk turned quickly. "What do you mean?" 
 
 " Jeannette suggested it," said he, with something 
 in his voice which his listener could not quite analyze. 
 "She put it up to me to come over while they should 
 be staying in Devonshire, and join their house party. 
 At first I said I couldn't, but the more I thought of 
 it the more it seemed possible to get over there for a 
 fortnight anyhow. The plan was not to tell you, 
 and to surprise you by walking in on you." 
 
 Georgiana stared at him, as well as she could see 
 him through the fervid twilight. "JimpsI Why, 
 how could you get away ? " 
 
 "There's never a time when it's easy to get away," 
 he admitted; "but everything's in full sail now for 
 the summer, and just lately I've succeeded in getting 
 
REACTION 197 
 
 hold of an awfully competent man who could run 
 things for the month well enough. Anyhow, of 
 course I was dippy at the thought of going and — I 
 promised her I would if I could manage it. I've 
 never had the chance to travel much, and it suddenly 
 struck me that I didn't have to deny myself every 
 possible thing. But, of course, now that you're 
 back " 
 
 *' But that makes no difference ! " she cried quickly. 
 "Why should it? Jeannette asked you because she 
 wanted you. Of course you must go, if you really 
 can get away." 
 
 "She never would have asked me if you hadn't 
 been going. And it was only an afterthought then. 
 If I hadn't gone on for that last hour it wouldn't 
 have occurred to her." 
 
 "It occurred to her to wish it, because she said 
 so more than once to me the day I was there. But 
 she didn't dream you could do it. I don't know why 
 we should all consider you a fixture, for your father 
 is much stronger than mine and it couldn't harm him 
 at all to spare you for a little. Of course, you must 
 go, Jimps! When will you start?" 
 
 "Do you honestly want me to go, George?" H4 
 seemed to be scanning her face through the dimness. 
 
 "I should be a selfish thing enough if I didn't,*" 
 she protested. 
 
 He was silent for a minute; then he said: "To be 
 
198 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 frank, I wrote last night for a berth on a ship thatl 
 sails in two weeks. Jeannette warned me not to' 
 delay, the travel is so heavy this time of year. I 
 talked it over with my father and he seemed pleased 
 at the idea. You can imagine I felt a bit dizzy this 
 morning when I heard you hadn't sailed. I didn't 
 believe it at first." 
 
 "Never mind, you will go just the same — and all 
 the more. It's a pity somebody shouldn't carry 
 out the plan, and you've had less fun than I, for 
 you've been at home longer since college. Go, Jimps, 
 and take the goods the gods provide." 
 
 She maintained this spirit throughout the ensuing 
 fortnight, in spite of his evident effort to make her 
 acknowledge that she would feel her own disappoint- 
 ment the more for his going. When he came over 
 to say good-bye he found her apparently in the gayest 
 of spirits; and she gave him such a friendly send-ofF 
 that he went away marvelling in his heart at the ways 
 of young women, and the ways of Georgiana Warne 
 in particular. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 "steady on!" 
 
 ON THE day following the departure of James 
 Stuart for England, while the two literary 
 workmen were hard at it in the old manse study, 
 the July weather having mercifully turned decidedly 
 cooler for a space, the village telegraph messenger, a 
 tall youth with a shambling gait, appeared with a 
 message for Mr. Jefferson. Georgiana brought it 
 to him, and waited to know whether there was a 
 reply. 
 
 She saw the message — evidently a long one — ^twice 
 read, and noticed a peculiar lighting of the grave 
 face which had bent over it. Mr. Jefferson wrote an 
 answer, briefer than the message received, and him- 
 self took it to the waiting boy. When he returned 
 he sat down and began to put in order the papers on 
 which he had been working. 
 
 "I have another trade, as you have guessed," 
 he said to Georgiana. "It seems necessary for me 
 to go away and work at it for a few days, perhaps a 
 fortnight. It is fortunate for me that you are here, 
 for I should not have felt that I ought to leave your 
 
 199 
 
aoo UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 father, and yet I should hardly have been able to re* 
 fuse the call of that message." 
 
 "Then I am very glad," she returned, "that t 
 am here. Can you leave me work to do ? " 
 
 "I am afraid not, beyond that already laid out for 
 to-day. Won't you rest while I am gone? This is 
 vacation time for most people, you know." 
 
 She shook her head. "With only father to look 
 after I shall have little enough to do." 
 
 "You won't — ^forgive me! — go up into that blister- 
 ing attic and make rugs? I hope not!" She felt 
 that he was looking keenly at her. 
 
 "Why should you hope not? I am one of the 
 people who must be busy to be contented. How 
 soon do you go, Mr. Jefferson ? " 
 
 "On the noon train." He looked at his watch. 
 "I have an hour to make ready. No, don't go. I 
 will come back when I am ready, and we will put 
 things in shape to leave, so that we shall know ex- 
 actly where to take them up again." 
 
 In half an hour he was back, and together the two 
 put the results of their joint work into such shape 
 that at a moment's notice they might resumfe it. 
 This done, they went to Mr. W?.rne, and the intending 
 traveler explained briefly the situation — ^without, as 
 Georgiana fully realized, explaining it at all. Then, 
 shortly, he went away, with something in his manner 
 which subtly told her that he was very glad to go. 
 
"STEADY ON!" 201 
 
 and that he was thinking of little besides the errand 
 which took him from them, careful though he was in 
 every courteous detail of leavetaking. 
 
 When he had gone Georgiana and her father 
 looked at each other. 
 
 "Daughter," said Mr. Warne, looking intently at 
 the vivid face, with the eyes which saw so many 
 things, "do you know what you remind me of?" 
 
 "No, Father Davy. Of a cross child?" 
 
 "Of a young colt, penned into a very small en- 
 closure, with only one lame and blind old horse to 
 keep it company. And within sight, off on the hill- 
 side, is a great, green pasture, with other colts and 
 lambs sporting gayly about, and the summer sun- 
 shine over all — except in the corral, over which a 
 dark cloud hangs. And I am sorry — sorry!" 
 
 "Father Davy!" Georgiana choked back a lump 
 in her throat. "But it is hot July, and the cloud 
 makes it cooler and nicer in the corral. And besides 
 — ^the lame, blind horse is such a dear — ^has drawn 
 such heavy loads and would be so lonely now with- 
 out company. And — and the colt has many long 
 years to sport on hillsides." 
 
 Mr. Warne smiled, more sadly than was his wont. 
 "But not while it is a colt." Then, after a pause, 
 "My dear, we shall miss Mr. Jefferson." 
 
 "Shall we?" 
 
 "I shall miss him more than I should have realized 
 
202 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 till I saw him go down the path. And James Stuart, 
 too. That is why I know that you will miss them." 
 
 "We shall live through it," prophesied his daughter 
 cheerfully, and betook herself to the kitchen, which 
 she found looking, in spite of its well-ordered neat- 
 ness, more like a jail than ever before. 
 
 The following days went by on feet of lead. Never 
 had Georgiana had to make such an effort to main- 
 tain ordinary, everyday cheerfulness and patience. 
 She found herself longing, with one continuous dull 
 ache from morning till night, for something to hap- 
 pen, something which would absorb her every faculty. 
 She rose early and went for long walks, and went 
 again in the late afternoons, with the one purpose of 
 tiring her vigorous young body so that it would keep 
 her restless mind in order. She worked at her rug- 
 making many hours, spent many more in reading 
 aloud to her father, and still there were hours left to 
 fill. She forced herself to go to see all her acquain- 
 tances, to visit those few who were ill; there was 
 nobody in want in the whole place, it seemed, in 
 this summer prosperity of garden. 
 
 "There's nothing to do for any one," she said to 
 her father one day. "I feel guilty times without 
 number because I'm not of more use to the people 
 about me." 
 
 Her father studied her. "Dear," he said slowly, 
 **what you need just now is something the good 
 
"STEADY ON!" 203 
 
 Father knows you need, and I believe He will not 
 deny it to you. In the meantime, remember that 
 simply being cheerful and patient under enforced 
 waiting is sometimes the greatest service that can 
 be rendered." 
 
 "If you haven't taught me that, it isn't because 
 you haven't illustrated it every day of your life," 
 she cried — and fled. 
 
 In her own room she beat her strong young hands 
 together. " Oh, dear God ! " she said aloud, " if I could 
 only, only have the thing I want, I would take any- 
 thing, anything that might go with it and not com- 
 plain!" 
 
 And then, suddenly, one early August night, Mr. 
 Jefferson returned. He came up the path, bag in 
 hand, and saw a solitary figure standing on the small 
 front porch, where a latticework sheltered opposing 
 seats. It was a white figure in the early dusk and it 
 rose as he approached. 
 
 "The fortnight is not quite up," said Georgiana 
 quietly. "But I put your room in order to-day, 
 hoping you would come. My father never misse<J 
 anybody so much," 
 
 "That sounds very pleasant." He set down his 
 bag and shook hands. "It makes it the harder to 
 say that I must be off again in the morning. And 
 — I shall not be coming back. If it had not been 
 that I could not leave without seeing you and Mr. 
 
S04 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 Warne I should have sent on to ask you to pack and 
 send my trunk." 
 
 "Really? How very unexpected! But I would 
 gladly have sent on the trunk," said Georgiana. 
 Something cold clutched at her heart. 
 
 "Would you? That sounds rather inhospitable! 
 Do you care to hear my plans ? " 
 
 "If you care to tell them, Mr. Jefferson." 
 
 "I wonder," said he, "if you would be willing to go 
 around to the other porch and sit there. I have a 
 fancy for being where I can get the scent from yoifl: 
 garden. I shall miss that spicy fragrance. Is your 
 father still up?" 
 
 "He has just gone to bed. He would be very 
 happy if you would go in and speak to him," said 
 Georgiana. 
 
 Mr. Jefferson ran upstairs with his bag, and made 
 a brief call upon Mr. Warne. Then he came down, 
 to find Georgiana standing with her arms about a 
 white pillar, her face looking off toward the garden. 
 The lamplight from the central hall, whose rear 
 door opened upon the porch, gleamed rosily out upon 
 her. 
 
 Mr. Jefferson came out and stood beside her. "I 
 came back," he said, "just to offer you my friend- 
 ship in any time of need. I couldn't go away with- 
 out doing that; I couldn't be content merely to write 
 it back to you. I have lived here in your home with 
 
"STEADY ON!" 205 
 
 your father and yourself until it has come to seem 
 almost as if I belonged here. But my work calls 
 me; I must go back to it. The book must wait, to 
 be finished in spare moments as other books have 
 been finished. I thought I could give myself this 
 year away from my profession to accomplish this 
 task and perhaps to lay in fresh stores of energy. 
 But I find I can't be easy in mind to do this longer. 
 So I am going back." 
 
 After an instant Georgiana answered, without 
 turning her eyes away from the garden: "You are a 
 very fortunate person." 
 
 "To have work that calls so loudly? I am sure of 
 that. And it is work which absorbs me to the full. 
 But I shall always have time to give to you or to 
 your father, if in any way I can ever be of service 
 to you. I have no family to call upon me for any 
 attenljion whatever; I have no near relative except 
 the married sister who lives abroad, as I have told 
 you. By the way, Allison has bidden me more than 
 once to thank you for her for taking such good care 
 of me. You know her by her picture, if you have 
 noticed it — the one on my bureau." 
 
 Georgiana nodded. She did not trust her lips, 
 which were suddenly trembling, to tell him that 
 though he had often spoken of this sister he had never 
 mentioned the fact that the photograph on his bureau 
 Was hers. But — ^what did it matter now? It was 
 
2o6 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 far better that she had not known, that she had had 
 this restraint upon her imagination to keep her from 
 
 ever letting herself go. It was far better But 
 
 he was speaking; she must listen. 
 
 "While I have been in this house I have felt," he 
 was saying, "as if I had a real home. It is hard to 
 give that up. Association with your father has be- 
 come much to me. I can't tell you what he has given 
 me out of his stores of wisdom and experience. And 
 you — have been very good to me; I shall not forget 
 it." 
 
 "I have done nothing," murmured Georgiana 
 with dry lips, "except feed you and dust your room. 
 You might have had such service anywhere." 
 
 "Might I? I doubt it. And there is something 
 else. If I may I should like to tell you how I have 
 admired you for your steady facing of each day's 
 routine. There is no heroism in the world. Miss 
 Georgiana, equal to that, to my thinking." 
 
 She shook her head. "I'm not heroic; please 
 don't tell me I am." 
 
 " But you are, and I must tell you so. Why not ? 
 I have seen more than you may have realized. My 
 whole life's training has been in the line of observa- 
 tion of other human beings. And you must know 
 that no one could be with you and not understand 
 that the fires of longing to live and live strongly and 
 vitally bum in you with more than ordinary fierce- 
 
"STEADY ON!" 207 
 
 ness. Yet you subdue them every day for the 
 sake of the one who needs you. That is real 
 heroism, and the sight of it has touched me very 
 much." 
 
 Suddenly she found herself struggling to keep back 
 the choking in her throat. How well he had under- 
 stood her — and what unsuspected depths of tender- 
 ness there were in his rich and quiet voice. She 
 could not speak for a little, and he stood beside her 
 in a comprehending silence. 
 
 "I can't go away," he said presently, "without 
 telling you that your happiness has come to seem 
 very important to me. I have — necessarily — a fairly 
 wide knowledge of men, their characters, their mo- 
 tives, their ideals — or their lack of them. Miss Geor- 
 giana, when you come to choose — ^will you let me 
 say it? — don't be misled by superficial attributes, 
 even the most attractive. Don't let the desire to 
 have your horizon apparently expanded, to go far 
 and see much and live intensely, overbalance your 
 appreciation of fine and lasting qualities in one who 
 could give you little excitement but much that is real 
 and worth having. It may be very daring in me to 
 say this to you, but I find myself impelled to it. I 
 want you to live, and live gloriously, and find em- 
 ployment for every one of your splendid energies, 
 and there is only one being in the world who can 
 help you do that — the man whom you can respect 
 
2o8 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 as well as love, and love as well as respect. Will you 
 promise me, to choose him and nobody else?" 
 
 She turned suddenly and fiercely upon him. "How 
 
 can you think I " She stopped short, her eyes 
 
 blazing in the darkness. 
 
 "I can foresee," said he, very gently, "an hour 
 for you when you will be tempted out of your senses 
 to do the thing which promises change, any change. 
 You are starving for it; you are desperate with long- 
 ing for it " 
 
 "Mr. Jefferson- 
 
 " Miles Channing came into town when I did; 
 his car raced my train for the last two miles. He 
 has gone to the hotel. Doubtless you will see him 
 within the hour. Miss Georgiana, I can't let you 
 marry him without telling you that if you do you 
 will be an unhappy woman for the rest of your 
 life." 
 
 She was speechless for a moment with surprise. 
 She forgot her encounter with the speaker in her 
 astonishment at his news. Channing had come back, 
 then, even as he had vowed, long before the rest of 
 the party. The knowledge that he was close at 
 hand again, bringing back with him such a wild 
 will to accomplish that of which he had been thwarted 
 that he had not been able to brook delay upon the 
 other side of the water, was knowledge of the sort 
 which stopped the breath. 
 
"STEADY ON!" 209 
 
 **Will you forgive me?" said Mr. Jefferson's low 
 voice in her ear. 
 
 "But — but I — don't understand," she stammered 
 — and now at last she showed him her unhappy eyes. 
 
 "What I have to do with it? How can I fail to 
 have something to do with it? When I let you sail 
 in the same party with this young man without 
 warning you, it was because I had no possible notion 
 that he was to be along. When I learned that he had 
 gone and that he had followed you back, I knew that 
 he was in earnest — at least in his pursuit of you. I 
 had thought there was no actual danger for you on 
 account of your friend — ^your real friend — the young 
 man whom you had known and trusted so long and 
 with such reason. But now, with him away and 
 you alone here and lonely and full of the hunger for 
 life — ^yes, I know I am speaking plainly, but I feel 
 that I must put you on your guard. And I want 
 you to feel that though I shall be gone to-morrow 
 night I am here to-night, and if you have any need 
 for me — for an elder brother " 
 
 "Oh, how can you think -" 
 
 "I do think — and I know — and I fear for you. 
 Not because I do not believe in you, but because I 
 know the manner of man who will approach you. 
 You have never known his sort. Let me be a brother 
 to you — ^just for to-night, if only in your thought. 
 It may help to steady you." 
 
*io UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 There was silence between them for a little. Then 
 steps upon the front porch, quick, ringing steps, as 
 of one who comes with eagerness. Georgiana felt 
 her hand taken for an instant and pressed warmly 
 between two firm hands. Then her companion left 
 her. . . . 
 
 Three hours afterward Georgiana flung herself, 
 breathing fast, upon her knees beside her open win- 
 dow and lifted her face toward the sky. She would 
 have fled to her garden for this vigil she must keep, 
 but the extraordinary truth was that she did not 
 dare be alone there. Her hands gripped the sill, 
 her eyes stared without seeing at the vaulted depths 
 above her. After a long time — hours — she rose and 
 went to her door, opened it without making a sound, 
 and, listening till she had made sure that the house 
 was as silent as all houses should be at two in the 
 morning, she stole slowly along the upper hall. 
 Presently she stood outside the closed door of the 
 guest who was sleeping under the roof for the last 
 time. With a fast-beating heart she noiselessly laid 
 her hand upon the panel of that door. 
 
 "You did steady me," she whispered. "I couldn't 
 have done it if you hadn't warned me — fortified me. 
 Oh, what shall I do without you?" 
 
 Inside suddenly a footstep sounded, the footstep 
 of a shod foot. Instantly the girl was ofi" down the 
 hall like a frightened deer. In her own room she 
 
"STEADY ON!" 211 
 
 stood with her hand upon her breast. "Up — at this 
 hour!" her startled consciousness was repeating. 
 "Why? There- was no light in his room. Couldn't 
 he sleep either? Why? Is that what it means to 
 him to be a brother?" 
 
 In the morning Mr. Jefferson took his leave. His 
 parting with Mr. Warne was Hke that between father 
 and son. When he came to Georgiana he looked 
 straight down into her eyes. 
 
 "Remember," he said, "that what I have told you 
 of my wish to be of any possible use to you and your 
 father holds good, even though I should be at the 
 other side of the world. I shall write now and then 
 to ask about you both. I can't tell you how I hope 
 for your happiness — Georgiana." 
 
 When he had gone she went to her room and 
 dropped upon her knees beside her bed, her arms 
 outflung upon the old blue and white counterpane. 
 
 "O God," she whispered passionately, "how could 
 You show it to me if I couldn't have it? How could 
 You?" 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 REVELATIONS 
 
 SUMMER had gone at last, its fierce heat giv- 
 ing way to the cool, fresh days of an early au- 
 tumn. August, September, October — the months had 
 dragged interminably by, and now it was Novem- 
 ber, bleak and chill, with gray skies and penetrat- 
 ing winds and sudden deluges of rain. Georgiana, 
 Sweeping sodden leaves from a wet porch after an 
 all-night storm, looked up to see the village tele- 
 graph messenger approaching. With her one dearest 
 safe upon a couch within, and Stuart long since at 
 home again, she could not fear b ad news . S he thought 
 of Jeannette, who was always, in the absence of a 
 telephone in the old manse, telegraphing her invita- 
 tions and demands. 
 
 She tore open the dispatch with a hope that it was 
 from Jeannette, for she had sadly missed her letters. 
 Jeannette, indeed, it was who had inspired the 
 miessage, but its sender was her sister. Rosalie Crof- 
 ton wired that Jeannette had been taken suddenly 
 and violently ill while on a visit in New York and was 
 to be operated upon at once; that she had begged 
 
 212 
 
REVELATIONS 213 
 
 Georgiana to come and to bring James Stuart with 
 her; that Rosahe herself was dreadfully frightened 
 and prayed Georgiana not to lose a train nor to fail to 
 bring Stuart. 
 
 Action was never slow with the receiver of this 
 message; it had never been quicker than now. With 
 one brief explanation to her father, she was off to 
 find Stuart. Just at the dripping hedge she met 
 him, his face tense with the shock it was plain he had 
 received. At sight of her he drew a yellow paper from 
 his pocket. 
 
 "You've heard?" he cried. 
 
 "Yes; this very minute." 
 
 "There's only an hour to catch the ten-ten. You'll 
 go?" 
 
 "Of course. I was coming to tell you. I'll be 
 ready." 
 
 She turned again and ran back. There was much 
 to do in the allotted hour, but with the help of Mrs. 
 Perkins she accomplished it. When she and Stuart 
 were in the train, sitting side by side in the ordinary 
 coach of the traveler who must conserve his re- 
 sources, as Georgiana had decreed, Stuart spoke the 
 first word of comment upon the situation. 
 
 "Of course, there was nothing to do but go," he 
 said, "after that telegram." 
 
 "Of course not," agreed Georgiana simply. 
 
 "She was perfectly well — last week," said Stuart. 
 
214 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 "Was she? You know I haven't seen her since 
 they came back." 
 
 " She said she had tried every way to get you there." 
 
 "She has. I was going — ^when I could. You 
 knov/ father hasn't been as well since they came back 
 in September." 
 
 "I know. But she's wanted to see you. She says 
 she can't write half so well as she can talk." 
 
 "N9. One can't." 
 
 There was silence for some time after this ex- 
 change. Stuart seemed restless, stirred often, once got 
 up and stood for a long time at the rear of the car, 
 staring back at the wet tracks slipping away behind. 
 When they had changed trains and were headed for 
 New York, with their destination only a few hours 
 away, Stuart, again in the vestibule of the car, look- 
 ing out through the closed entrance door upon a dull 
 landscape passing like a misty wraith through the 
 November fog and twilight, found Georgiana at his 
 elbow. 
 
 "Jimps," she was saying in her straightforward 
 way, "what's the use of bothering to keep it covered 
 when it shows so plainly? Do you think I don't 
 understand? I do — and it's absolutely all right." 
 
 He turned quickly, and his gloomy eyes stared 
 down into her uplifted face. 
 
 "O George!" he muttered. "Can you honestly 
 say that?" 
 
REVELATIONS 215 
 
 "Honestly. I know how it happened. You 
 couldn't help it. It was meant to be. The other — ■ 
 wasn't. That's all there is of it." 
 
 "I've been feeling such a sneak." 
 
 "Why should you? I've told you over and 
 over " 
 
 "I know you have. But — that last time- 
 
 "That was really the beginning of — this other," 
 said she with decision. "You were not yourself and 
 you didn't know just why. You thought it must be 
 because you cared for me, but it was — the stirring of 
 your first real feeling for any woman, only you didn't 
 recognize it. That's the whole thing, Jimps, and 
 you are not to reproach yourself, particularly now 
 
 when " She faltered suddenly, and he drew a 
 
 quick breath that was as if something stabbed him. 
 
 After a little he began very slowly: "It didn't 
 really happen till — Devonshire. Those two weeks — 
 I can't tell you. No mortal man could have re- 
 sisted her. Yet I tried; I did, George. She didn't 
 know about you; she never has, except that we were 
 old friends and dear ones. She thinks the trouble 
 is that she's a rich man's daughter and I'm only a 
 farmer." 
 
 "You're no ordinary farmer and she knows it. 
 Her family know it. And if she wants you she'll 
 have you; they've never refused her anything." 
 
 "I haven't asked her." 
 
2i6 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 "James Stuart!" It was her old tone with him. 
 For the moment both forgot the possible issue of 
 this errand upon which they were going; only the 
 vital relations at stake seemed involved. 
 
 "But — she knows," said Stuart very low. 
 
 "Of course she does." 
 
 By and by Stuart spoke again. "George, you 
 were never quite so close to me as now." 
 
 She slipped her hand into his. "I'll stay close, 
 dear; and I'll do all I can for you both." 
 
 This was all they said until the first lights of the 
 great city, miles out, were flashing past them. Then 
 it occurred to Georgiana to put a startled question: 
 
 "Jimps, have you any address to go to? There 
 was none in my telegram." 
 
 "I know where they are staying." Stuart put his 
 hand into his pocket and drew out a thick letter, 
 upon which Georgiana recognized her cousin's hand- 
 writing. "This came only yesterday morning." 
 
 In spite of herself the girl felt a wild thrill of pain. 
 Her chum — her chum ! And it was the first time he 
 had ever failed to be open with her. 
 
 As if he recognized that the sight of the letter had 
 told even more plainly than words could have done, 
 the degree of intercommunication between the two 
 presumable lovers, Stuart said quickly: 
 
 "I was going to tell you, George — on my word I 
 was. I knew you didn't care for me — that way, but 
 
REVELATIONS 217 
 
 I was afraid it might hurt just the same, after all our 
 vows. Somehow the days went by so fast and — ^well, 
 you see there was Channing. A while back I thought 
 you were going to marry him, more than likely." 
 
 "You didn't really think it, Jimps." 
 
 "I don't know what I thought. George, we're 
 getting in. Oh " And he broke off. 
 
 She knew what had happened, for with the first 
 glimpse of the great terminal station the things which 
 thus far had been never really vivid in her conscious- 
 ness had in the twinkling of an eye taken terrible 
 form. This was New York, and somewhere in it 
 they were to find Jeannette, stricken in the midst of 
 her youth and beauty and joy of life and love. If 
 only they might find the worst of the danger safely 
 past! 
 
 They were rushed in a taxicab to the great uptown 
 hotel, to find there a message saying that the whole 
 family were at the hospital and that they were to 
 follow at once. In the second cab Georgiana's hand 
 again found Stuart's and stayed there. His face 
 was set now; he spoke not a word, and even through 
 his glove his hand was cold to the touch. Then, pres- 
 ently, they were at the big, grim-looking hospital 
 with the characteristic odour, so suggestive to the 
 senses of the tragedies which take place there night 
 and day, meeting them at the very portal. 
 
 It was Georgiana who made the necessary in* 
 
2i8 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 quiries, for Stuart seemed like one dazed with fear of 
 that which was to come. He followed her with his 
 fingers gripping his hat brim with a clutch like that 
 of a vise, his eyes looking straight ahead. An attend- 
 ant led them to a private room, and here in a moment 
 Georgiana found herself caught in Rosalie's arms, 
 with pale faces all about which tried to smile reassur-t 
 ingly but could succeed only in looking strained. 
 It was Aunt Olivia who seemed most composed and 
 who made the situation clear. Uncle Thomas could 
 only grasp the newcomers' hands and press therti, 
 while his lips shook and his speech halted. 
 
 "It is a very peculiar case, and we had to wait till a 
 certain surgeon came who was out of town — Doctor 
 Craig. They seemed to think it safer to wait for 
 him. He has had extraordinary success in similar 
 cases. He — is with her now, operating. My dear, 
 I am very glad you have come — and you, Mr. Stuart. 
 She wanted you both, and we felt that if her mind 
 
 were at rest her chances " But here even Aunt 
 
 Olivia's long training in cornposure under all circum- 
 stances deserted her, and she let Georgiana put her 
 in a chair and kneel beside her, murmuring affection 
 and hope. 
 
 It was a long wait — or so it seemed — ^interrupted 
 only once by the entrance of a young hospital interne, 
 who came to advise the family of the patient that 
 thus far all was going well. It had proved, as was 
 
REVELATIONS 219 
 
 expected, a complicated case, and there was necessity 
 of proceeding slowly. But Doctor Westfall had 
 sent word to them to be of good cheer, for the pa- 
 tient's pulse was strong, and Doctor Craig's reputa- 
 tion, as they knew, was very great. 
 
 "It's Dr. Jefferson Craig, you know," explained 
 young Chester Crofton softly to Georgiana. "We're 
 mighty lucky to get him. He only came back from 
 abroad two days ago, and he was operating out of 
 town somewhere last night. Doctor Westfall was 
 awfully keen to have him and nobody else." 
 
 Georgiana knew the name, as who did not? Jef- 
 ferson Craig was the man whose brilliant research 
 work along certain lines of surgery had astonished 
 both his colleagues and an attentive general public, 
 and his operative surgery on those lines had dis- 
 proved all previous theories as to the possibilities 
 of interference in a class of cases until recently con- 
 sidered hopeless after an early stage. It was in- 
 deed subject for confidence if Doctor Craig's skilful 
 hands were those now at Jeannette's service. 
 
 But there is no beguiling such periods of suspense 
 with assurance of former successes in similar cases. 
 Jeannette's family had need of all their fortitude for 
 the bearing of such suspense before Doctor Westfall, 
 the Crofton's family physician from the home city, 
 appeared in the doorway. He had been brought on 
 by them when they were summoned to Jeannette's 
 
220 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 bedside. He had known the girl from her baby-, 
 hood, and the signs of past tension were clearly vis- 
 ible in his face as he looked upon his patient's family, 
 though his eyes were very bright and his lips were 
 smiling. 
 
 "Safely over," was his instant greeting, and his 
 hand fell with the touch of hearty friendship on the 
 shoulder of Mr. Thomas Crofton. "I wouldn't 
 come till I was sure I might bid you draw a long 
 breath and ease up on this strain of waiting." 
 
 They came around him, Aunt Olivia's lips trem- 
 bling, her hand fast in Georgiana's. Young Chester 
 Crofton gave a subdued whoop of joy, and pretty 
 Rosalie, scarcely out of emotional girlhood, burst 
 into hysterical crying which she struggled vainly to 
 keep soundless. 
 
 "Mind you," warned Doctor Westfall, wiping 
 his own eyes though he continued to smile, "I don't 
 say all danger is past. Doctor Craig would be the 
 last man to countenance such a statement. We 
 must hold steady for several days before we can 
 speak with absolute assurance. But every sign 
 points to safety, and certainly — certainly — ^well," — 
 he paused as if he could not readily find words for 
 that which he wished to say, — "if it had been any- 
 body but our Jeannette I should have congratulated 
 myself on the chance to see such a piece of work as 
 that. I've never seen Jefferson Craig operate. 
 
REVELATIONS 221 
 
 though I've been a fascinated follower of his researqh 
 and have read every word he has written. And he's 
 astonishingly young. I expected to see a man of 
 my own age." 
 
 "We must see him. Doctor," murmured Mrs. 
 Crofton, striving to regain her composure which, as 
 is often the case, was more shaken by the assurance 
 of good news than by the fear of bad. "We must 
 thank him for ourselves. He will come in to see 
 us?" 
 
 "As soon as he is out of his gown. I'm going back 
 for him in a minute, for I knew you would want the 
 words from his own lips. You will like him — ^j'ou 
 will like him immensely." 
 
 He went away again presently on this errand, an 
 imposing figure of a man of fifty, accustomed to 
 responsibility and able to carry it, a typical city 
 physician of the class employed by the prosperous, 
 but with certain clearly defined lines about his eyes 
 and lips which proclaimed him a lover of human 
 nature and a sympathizer with its sufferings, in 
 whatever class he might find his patients. 
 
 "He's such a dear," declared Rosalie, wiping away 
 her tears and smiling at James Stuart. "He'o 
 adored Jeannette ever since she was born, and I know 
 he's been just as anxious as we were. Do cheer up, 
 Jimmy. I'm just as sure she's going to get well now 
 as I was sure she wasn't before." 
 
222 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 "I don't dare to be sure," he answered in a low 
 tone. 
 
 Georgiana looked at him and saw how shaken he 
 still was, notwithstanding the reassuring news. In 
 spite of her anxiety she had been observant, ever since 
 she entered the room, of the attitude of Jeannette's 
 family toward James McKenzie Stuart. It had not 
 been difficult to come to the conclusion that for Jean- 
 nette's sake they would accept him, and that for his 
 own sake they were forced, in varying degrees,, t& 
 like him. How could they help it? she wondered, 
 when they looked at his fine, frank face and observed 
 his manly bearing. He was college bred ; he was a suc- 
 cessful worker with his brain as well as with his hands^ 
 for his farming was scientific farming, and his results 
 established a model for the community. He was by 
 no means poor — and yet — Georgiana realized that the 
 change for Jeannette from a home of luxury to one of 
 comparative austerityof living would be a tremendous 
 one. Well, such events had occurred before in the 
 world's history, and it was by no means unthinkable 
 that they should occur again. As Georgiana noted 
 the tense look on Stuart's face, and saw the hardly 
 abated suffering in his eyes, she said to herself that 
 if Jeannette cared as much for him as he for her, she 
 cared quite enough to bring her family to terms at 
 any price. 
 
 The door opened again, as quietly as hospital doors 
 
REVELATIONS 223 
 
 invariably open, and Doctor Westfall advanced once 
 more into the room, followed by a younger man 
 with a grave, clean-cut face and the unassuming, 
 quietly assured bearing of established success. As 
 Georgiana's eyes fell upon the distinguished surgeon 
 whose name was Jefferson Craig she recognized her 
 former lodger, Mr. E. C. Jefferson. That she did 
 not for a moment wonder what Mr. Jefferson was 
 doing here in the famous surgeon's place was due 
 to the fact that her mind instantly bridged the chasm 
 between the two personalities and made them one. 
 Yet there was a subtle, but easily recognizable, 
 difference between the personality of Mr. Jefferson 
 and that of Doctor Craig. There could be no ques- 
 tion that here his foot was on his native heath ! The 
 literary worker had for the time vanished, and here 
 was the man who did things with his hands and did 
 them better than other men. She had long under- 
 stood that he had another and more active place in 
 the world than that which he had temporarily oc- 
 cupied as solely a writer of books. This was the 
 place, and nothing could have seemed less surprising 
 than to find him in it. 
 
 At the same time, the finding occasioned a difficulty 
 in maintaining her own composure of face and man- 
 ner. She had known Mr. Jefferson; she did not know 
 Doctor Craig. Sne understood instantly, without 
 any explanation, that he had chosen to be known in 
 
224 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 the obscure village by only a part of his name, be- 
 cause that name was so notable that even the two 
 village doctors, the old one and the young, 
 would have recognized it and been at his heels, to 
 the detriment of those months of rest from surgery 
 which he had dedicated to the exposition of his 
 methods upon paper. She was quick to perceive 
 also that it would be easy enough for Doctor Craig 
 to prove as different from Mr. Jefferson in relation 
 to his acquaintance as he was different in his position 
 in the world. What, indeed, had Dr. Jefferson 
 Craig and little Georgiana Warne in common? 
 Certainly far, far less than had had Mr. E. C. Jef- 
 ferson and that same Georgiana Warne. 
 
 He did not see her at once, for the father and 
 mother of his patient met him in the middle of the^ 
 floor, and his first glance fell upon them and remained 
 there while he spoke to them of their daughter. 
 Even in his manner of speaking Georgiana felt a de- 
 cided difference. There was a curious crispness and 
 succinctness of speech that marked the professional 
 man, which was decidedly different from the more 
 expanded conversational manner of Mr. Jefferson. 
 
 "Yes, she is sleeping quietly under the last effects 
 of the anaesthetic," he was saying when Georgiana 
 took note of his words once more. "We will let her 
 sleep. It will spare her some hours of conscious- 
 
 ness." 
 
REVELATIONS 225 
 
 "Will she suffer very much when she wakes, Doc- 
 tor?" was the mother's anxious question. 
 
 /Doctor Craig's smile was the very one Georgiana 
 had first liked about him, for it transformed his face 
 and gave it back the youth which his early respom 
 sibility in a serious profession had done its best to 
 age. "We shall not let her suffer very much," he 
 promised. "That's not necessary nor desirable." 
 
 "When may we see her?" Mrs. Crofton pursued. 
 
 "You may all see her for a moment before she 
 wakens, if you wish. Afterward her mother and 
 father for just a word, and- -1 am told she expressed 
 a very strong wish to see a young man who was on 
 his way. Has he come? For the sake of her con- 
 tentment I have agreed to allow him a word with her 
 by and by — ^just a word, if he will be very quiet." 
 
 It was Uncle Thomas who turned to beckon James 
 Stuart forward, and then to nod at Georgiana. Im- 
 mediately Stuart was presented to Doctor Craig, 
 who, looking intently into the young man's ques- 
 tioning face, said straightforwardly: "Mr. Stuart 
 and I have met before under quite different circum- 
 stances. He knew me as a writer of books and may 
 be surprised to find me here — as I am surprised to 
 find him." 
 
 "Let me present you to my niece. Miss Warne, 
 Doctor Craig," said Aunt Olivia, and Georgiana was 
 glad of the preparation the minutes had given her, for 
 
226 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 kere indeed was need for all her powers of self-control. 
 Her eyes had no sooner looked into those which met 
 them with such a keen and searching glance than she 
 was stirred to the depths. She had thought she had 
 known what it would be to feel those eyes upon her 
 again, but she had not reckoned with the effect of 
 absence. 
 
 He made no effort to conceal the situation. "When 
 your daughter sees me next, Mrs. Crofton," he said, 
 without turning from Georgiana, "she will know me, 
 as Miss Warne and Mr, Stuart do. I spent last 
 winter in Miss Warne's home, under the name of 
 Jefferson alone, to find time to work at a book I 
 am writing. I gave it up sooner than I had expected, 
 because my work here would not be denied." 
 
 "Didn't Jean know you when she saw you before 
 the — the operation ? " cried Rosalie, full of curiosity 
 at this unexpected turn of affairs. 
 
 " She did not see me before she was anaesthetized," 
 explained Doctor Craig; ^nd Doctor Westfall added, 
 patting Rosalie's hand: "It's rather like a story, 
 isn't it. Rosy? Doctor Seaver, of the staff here, was 
 telling me this morning how Doctor Craig tried to 
 take a year off to rest and write, but how they got 
 him back — and glad enough^ to have him, too. And 
 yet we want that book. It's rather hard to have a 
 reputation so big it won't give you time to rest. He 
 needed the rest, Seaver told me." 
 
^ REVELATIONS 227 
 
 "I had it. Six months in the country did more for 
 me than a year in town," said Doctor Craig. He 
 turned at the sound of a light knock upon the door. 
 He gave the impression of a man whose senses were 
 every one alert. 
 
 An apologetic interne came in with a message for 
 Doctor Craig and he left them, with a final word of 
 confidence and the request that they all retire to 
 rooms at the nearby hotel where they were staying. 
 
 Georgiana found Rosalie at her side. "O George! 
 is he really the man you had in your house all this 
 year? You lucky thing! Didn't you fall in love 
 with him instantly? Why, he's perfectly won- 
 derful!" 
 
 "You think so now, child, because you know he's 
 distinguished. If you had seen him quietly working 
 at his book you probably wouldn't have looked at 
 him a second time." 
 
 Rosalie studied her cousin's face so intently that 
 Georgiana had some difficulty in maintaining this 
 attitude of cool detachment. The young girl shook 
 her head. "He couldn't have changed his face," 
 she insisted. "He's not a bit handsome, but he's 
 stunning just the same. Oh, how astonished Jean 
 will be when she finds out who's saved her life! 
 When do you suppose he'll let Jimmy Stuart see 
 her? He'll die if he doesn't make sure she's alive 
 pretty soon." 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 
 FIVE MINUTES 
 
 IT WAS not many hours before Doctor Craig 
 himself led Georgiana and James Stuart to- 
 gether into the room where Jeannette lay. She had 
 asked to see them together, he said, and they might 
 remain for precisely five minutes. He immediately 
 left the room again and took the nurse with him. 
 
 The five minutes were spent by Stuart with Jean- 
 nette's hand in both his own, as he knelt beside the 
 the bed where she lay, no pillow under her head, her 
 face very white but her eyes glowing. 
 
 Jeannette's look met Georgiana's. "Is it all 
 right ? " she said very low. 
 
 "Of course it's all right, dear; and I'm perfectly 
 happy over it," whispered Georgiana. 
 
 Jeannette smiled. "I couldn't be happy till I was 
 sure," she breathed. " I thought — I might die, even 
 yet — and I wanted it like this — first." 
 
 An inarticulate murmur from Stuart answered 
 this, but Georgiana assured her very gently: "You're 
 going to be happy with Jimps for years and years, 
 Jean darling." 
 
 2SS 
 
FIVE MINUTES 229 
 
 They were silent then, as they had been bidden, 
 but the silence was eloquent. Doctor Craig, coming 
 in to put an end to the little interview, saw the un- 
 mistakable tableau. As Stuart, catching sight of 
 him, rose slowly to his feet, the surgeon's fingers 
 closed upon his patient's pulse. He nodded. 
 
 "As a heart stimulant you have done very wellj 
 Mr. Stuart," he said. "But small doses, frequently 
 repeated, are better than large ones." 
 
 Jeannette's hand weakly caught his. "Isn't it 
 queer, Georgiana," she murmured, "that it should 
 be your Mr. Jefferson who has saved my life?" 
 
 In spite of herself, Georgiana could not prevent 
 the rich wave of colour which swept over her face. 
 She knew, without venturing to look at him, that 
 Doctor Craig's eyes flashed toward her with a smile 
 in them. She stooped over Jeannette with a gay 
 reply: 
 
 "And he began his acquaintance with you by 
 snowballing you till you almost had need of his 
 surgery on the spot!" 
 
 Then she and Stuart were out in the wide, bare 
 hospital corridor, and Stuart was saying with a 
 shiver: "Does she look all right to you, George — 
 sure?" 
 
 "Of course she does, Jimps. You never saw her 
 before with her hair down in braids; and any face 
 looks pale against a white bed." 
 
230 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 He shook his head. "I shall not stir out of this 
 town till she looks like herself to me." 
 
 "Of course you won't. I wish I needn't, but I 
 must go back to father to-night." 
 
 They all tried to dissuade her from this course, 
 but she was firm. She knew well enough that all 
 Jeannette had wanted of her was to assure herself 
 that she possessed a clear right and title to Stuart's 
 love. Evidently Jeannette had guessed more at 
 Stuart's past relations with Georgiana than either of 
 them had imagined, and she would not allow herself 
 to be happy without the knowledge that she was not 
 making her cousin miserable. 
 
 One brief conversation with Doctor Craig was 
 all that was vouchsafed Georgiana before she left 
 the city, and that took place in the presence of 
 others, in Aunt Olivia's apartment. It was clear 
 enough how busy a man he was in this his own 
 world, for when he came into the room he explained 
 to Mrs. Crofton that it had been his only chance 
 since they arrived to make a brief social call upon 
 the family of his patient. It was but an hour before 
 Georgiana's departure, and when he learned this, 
 Jefferson Craig came over to her, where she sat upon 
 a divan at one end of the long private drawing-room 
 of the suite. Seeing this, the others of the party 
 began conversations of their own, after the manner 
 of the highly intelligent, and for those five minutes 
 
FIVE MINUTES 231 
 
 Georgiana lived in a place apart from the rest of the 
 world. 
 
 "Please tell me all about your father," he began, 
 and the tones of his voice, low as are habitually those 
 of his profession, could hardly have been heard by one 
 across the room. 
 
 Georgiana told him, unconsciously letting him see 
 that the fear of her probable loss was ever before her, 
 though she could not put it into words. She knew as 
 she spoke that his eyes did not leave her face. She 
 had no possible idea how alluring was that face 
 as the light from the sconces nearby fell upon it. 
 She was conscious, womanlike, that the small hat she 
 wore was made over from one of Jeannette's, and she 
 did not think it becoming. Though it was Novem- 
 ber, she still wore her summer suit, for the reason that 
 since her return from abroad Jeannette had not found 
 time to pack and send off the usual " Semi-Annual," 
 and previous boxes had not included winter suits at 
 at all. Altogether, with many-times-mended gloves 
 upon her hands, and shoes which to her seemed dis- 
 graceful, though preserved with all the care of which 
 she was mistress, Georgiana felt somehow more than 
 ordinarily shabby. 
 
 Doctor Craig asked her several questions. He 
 spoke of the rug-making, watching her closely as she 
 answered. He asked how often she went to walk 
 and how far. He asked what she and her father 
 
232 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 were reading. He would have asked other questions, 
 but she interrupted him. 
 
 "It's not fair," she said. "Please tell me about 
 the book. Does it get on ? " 
 
 "Do you care to know?" 
 
 "Very much. I'm wondering if your copyist 
 makes those German references any clearer for thft 
 printer than I did." 
 
 "Nobody has copied a word. I have not written 
 a word. The book is at a complete standstill. I see 
 no hope for it until I can take another vacation- 
 under the name of E. C. Jefferson." 
 
 "And that you will never take," she said posi- 
 tively. 
 
 "I never shall — ^in the same way. There are 
 reasons against it. The book will have to be written 
 as the others were — on trains, on shipboard, in my 
 own room late at night." 
 
 "Is it right to try to put two lifetimes into one?" 
 she asked, and now she lifted her eyes to his. 
 
 Before, she had managed to avoid a direct meeting 
 by those many and engaging little makeshifts girls 
 have, of glancing at a man's shoulder, his ear, his 
 mouth — and off at the floor, the window — anywhere 
 not to let him see clearly what she may be afraid he 
 will see. And Georgiana was intensely afraid that if 
 Dr. Jefferson Craig got one straight look with those 
 keen eyes of his he would recognize that her whole 
 
FIVE MINUTES 233 
 
 aching, throbbing heart was betraying itself from 
 between those Ufted lashes. But now, somehow, 
 with her question she ventured to give him this one 
 look. The interview might end at any moment; 
 she must have one straight survey of his face, bent so 
 near hers. 
 
 He gave it back, and until her glance dropped he 
 did not speak. Then, very low, but very clearly, 
 he said deliberately: 
 
 "When may I come?" 
 
 The room whirled. The lights from the sconces 
 danced together and blurred. The floor lifted and 
 sank away again. And Chester Crofton chose this 
 moment — as if he were not after all really of that 
 highly intelligent class which knows when to pursue 
 its own conversations and when to break into those of 
 others — ^to call across the room : 
 
 "Oh, I beg pardon. Doctor Craig, but when did 
 you say Jean might have something real to eat? 
 Rosy says it's to-morrow and I say it's not yet at all." 
 
 Doctor Craig turned and answered, and turned 
 back again. He was not of the composition of those 
 who are balked of answers to their questions by ill- 
 timed interruptions. But the little diversion gave 
 Georgiana an instant's chance to make herself ready 
 to answer like a woman and not like a startled school- 
 girl. So that when he repeated, his voice again 
 dropped J" 
 
234 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 "When, Georgiana?" 
 
 She was able to reply as quietly as she could have 
 wished : " Do you want to come, Doctor Craig ? " 
 
 "I want to come. I have never wanted anything 
 so much." 
 
 "Then — ^please do." 
 
 "Very soon? As soon as I can get away for a few 
 hours? Perhaps next week? It is always difficult, 
 but if I plan ahead sometimes I can manage to make 
 almost the train I hope for." 
 
 She nodded. "Any train — any time." 
 
 There was an instant's silence. It seemed to her 
 that she could hear one or two deep-drawn breaths 
 from him. Then: 
 
 "Would you mind looking up just once more? I 
 must go in a minute; I can't even take you to your 
 train." 
 
 But she answered, with an odd little trembling of 
 the lips : " Please don't ask me to. I'm — afraid ! " 
 
 A low laugh replied to that. "So am I!" said 
 Jefferson Craig. 
 
 He rose, and she rose with him. The others came 
 around and he took leave of them. His handclasp 
 was all that Georgiana had for farewell, for when she 
 lifted her eyes she let them rest on his finely moulded 
 chin. But she knew that in spite of his expressed 
 fear it was not her round little chin he looked at, 
 but the gleam of her dark eyes through their shelter* 
 
FIVE MINUTES 235 
 
 ing lashes, and that his hand gave hers a pressure 
 which carried with it much meaning. It told her 
 that which as yet she hardly dared believe. 
 
 Since the journey home was made up of changes 
 of trains, no sleeper was possible, and Georgiana 
 sat staring out of her car window while those about 
 her slumbered. There was too much to think of 
 for sleep, if she had wanted to sleep. She did not 
 want to sleep, she wanted to live over and over 
 again those five minutes with their incredible reve- 
 lation. And as the wheels turned, the rh3rthm of 
 their turning was set to one simple phrase, the one 
 which had sent her world whirling upside down and 
 made the stars leap out of their courses: 
 
 "When may I come?" 
 
CHAPTER XXI 
 
 MESSAGES 
 Hope to reach Elmville at seven to-night. — E. C. Jeffersos» 
 
 THIS was the first of them. When Georgiana rer 
 ceived it she had been waiting eight days for thii 
 first word. She had known well enough that unt^ 
 Jeannette was entirely safe Doctor Craig would not 
 leave her. Georgiana had not minded that she had 
 had no word. She had not really expected any. A 
 man who was too busy to come would be too busy 
 to write, and she wanted no makeshift letters. And 
 she had not minded the delay in his coming; rather, 
 she had welcomed it. To have time to think, to 
 hug her half-frightened, wholly joyous knowledge to 
 her heart, to go to sleep with it warm at her breast, 
 and to wake with it knocking at the door of her con« 
 sciousness — ^this was quite happiness enough for the 
 immediate present. 
 
 Meanwhile, what pleasure to put the house in its 
 most shining order, to plan daily little special dishes, 
 lest he come upon her unawares; to sit and sew upon 
 her clothing, shifting and turning her patchwork 
 jiaterials until she had worked out clever eom- 
 
 236 
 
MESSAGES 237 
 
 binations which conveyed small hint of being make- 
 overs! 
 
 For the first time in her life she said nothing to 
 her father of her expectations. What was there to 
 tell as yet? She could not bring herself to put into 
 words the memory of that brief interview, in which 
 BO much had been said in so few simple phrases. 
 And if Father Davy read — as it would have been 
 strange if he had not — ^the signs of his daughter's 
 singing lightness of heart, he made no sign himself; 
 he only waited, praying. 
 
 Georgiana received her first telegram at noon. 
 She had flown for two wonderful hours about her 
 kitchen, making ready, when the despatch was fol- 
 lowed by another: 
 
 Unavoidably detained. Will plan to get away Thursday. 
 
 This was Tuesday. Georgiana put away her 
 materials, and swept the house from attic to cellar, 
 though it needed it no more than her glowing face 
 needed colour. What did it matter? Let him be 
 detained a week, a month, a year — he would come 
 to her in the end. Now that she was sure of that, 
 each day but enhanced the glorious hope of a meet- 
 ing, that meeting the very thought of which was 
 enough to take away her breath. 
 
 On Thursday came the message: 
 
 Cannot leave this week. Will advise by wire when possible. 
 
238 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 No letter came to explain further these delays. 
 Georglana felt that she did not need one, yet ad- 
 mitted to herself that the ordinary course in such 
 circumstances would be to send a letter, no matter 
 of how few words. Toward the end of the following 
 week a telegram again set a day and hour, and as 
 before, another followed on its heels to negative it. 
 The last one added, "Deep regret," and therefore 
 bore balm. 
 
 And then, after several more days, came a mes- 
 sage which was all but a letter: 
 
 It seems impossible to arrange for absence at present. Will 
 you not bring your father and come to my home on Wednesday? 
 Will meet train arriving seven-fifteen. Journey will not hurt 
 Mr. Wame, and visit here will interest him. Please do not 
 refuse. E. C. Jefferson. 
 
 Well! What girl ever had a suitor of this sort? 
 one too busy to come or write, yet who, on the 
 strength of a few words spoken in the presence of 
 others, ventured to send for the lady of his choice 
 to come to him, that he might speak those other 
 words so necessary to the conclusion of the matter. 
 Georgiana sat re-reading the slip of yellow paper, 
 while her heart beat hard and painfully. For with 
 the invitation had come instantly the bitter realiza- 
 tion — ^they could not afford to go! Her recent trip 
 on the occasion of Jeannette's illness had taxed 
 their always slender resources, and until the money 
 
MESSAGES 239 
 
 should come in for the last bale of rugs sent away, 
 there was only enough in the family treasury to keep 
 them supplied with the necessities of life. 
 
 The time had come — undoubtedly it had — ^wher 
 she must confide in Father Davy. Not that he 
 would be able to see any way out, but that she could 
 not venture to refuse this urgent request without his 
 approval. 
 
 Georgiana tucked away in her belt the last long 
 telegram, and went to her father. He lay upon his 
 couch, the blue veins on his delicate forehead show- 
 ing with pitiful distinctness in the ray of November 
 sunshine which chanced to fall upon him. 
 
 Georgiana knelt beside him. "Father Davy," 
 she said, with her face carefully out of his sight, "I 
 have a little story to tell you — ^just the outlines of 
 one, for you to fill in. When I was in New York 
 Mr. Jefferson — Doctor Craig, you know," — she had 
 told him this part of the tale when she had first come 
 home, — "asked me when — when he might come here." 
 
 She paused. Her father turned his head upon 
 the crimson couch pillow, but he could not s«e her 
 face. 
 
 "Yes, my dear?" he said, with a little smile touch- 
 ing his lips, "Well, that sounds natural enough. 
 He knows he is always welcome here. When is 
 he coming?" 
 
 "He isn't coming. He can't get away. He has 
 
240 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 tried three different times, and cancelled it each time. 
 He seems to be very busy, too busy even to write." 
 
 "That is not strange; he must be a very busy man. 
 Doubtless he will come when he can make time. I 
 «hall be glad to see Mr. Jefferson." 
 
 " But — you see — he wants us to come there." 
 
 "Us?" 
 
 "You and me. Father Davy — you understand, 
 dear; don't make me put it into words!" 
 
 Her father's arm came about her and she buried 
 her face in his thin shoulder. "Thank GJod!" he 
 said fervently, under his breath. "Thank the good 
 God, who knows what we need and gives it to us." 
 
 After a minute's silence: "But we can't go. Father 
 Davy." 
 
 "Can't we? I could not, of course, but you '* 
 
 "I couldn't go without you — ^to his house. And — 
 we haven't any money." 
 
 "No money? Is it so bad as that?" 
 
 "And if we had — I'm not sure that I want to take 
 ft journey to a man — so that " 
 
 "Let me see the telegram, my dear," requested 
 Mr. Warne. When he had read it he regarded his 
 daughter with a curious little smile. She was sitting 
 upon the floor, close beside his couch, her brilliant 
 eyes now raised to his face, now veiled by their heavy 
 lashes. "It seems clear enough," he said. "Con- 
 cessions must be made to a man who belongs to the 
 
MESSAGES 241 
 
 people as he does. I don't think it would be a 
 sacrifice to your dignity, daughter, if you were to 
 
 go." 
 
 "But, Father, darling, don't you see? I didn't 
 want to tell you, but there was no other way. We 
 have quite enough to live on — ^without extras — ^till 
 the next rug money comes. But that may not be 
 for a month; they are always slow. And for us to 
 goto New York — ^well, we could just about get there. 
 We couldn't get clear home. Father Davy, I can't 
 go — penniless — to him!" 
 
 He lay looking at her down-bent head with its 
 splendid masses of dark hair, at the beautiful lines 
 of her neck in her low-cut working frock of blue- 
 and-white print, at the shapely young hands grip- 
 ping each other with unconscious tenseness in het 
 lap. His eyes were like a woman's for understanding, 
 and his lips were very tender. Slowly he raised him- 
 self to his feet. 
 
 "Stay just where you are, daughter," he said, 
 "till I come back." 
 
 She waited, staring at the old crimson pillow with 
 eyes which saw again the drawing-room in Aunt 
 Olivia's apartment and the profile of Doctor Craig's 
 face as he turned from her at Chester Crofton's 
 interrupting question. That was more than three 
 weeks ago 
 
 Father Davy was gone some little time, but ht 
 
a44 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 came back at length at his slow, limping pace, and 
 sat down upon the couch. He held in his hand a 
 little bag of dark blue silk, a little bag whose con- 
 tents seemed all heavily down in one corner. Georgi- 
 ana's eyes regarded it with some wonder. She had 
 thought she knew by heart every one of her father's 
 few belongings, but this little bag was new to her. 
 
 "I think," he said softly, "the time has come for 
 this. It was meant, perhaps, to be given you a 
 little later in your history, but if your mother knew — 
 nay, I feel she does know and approve — she would be 
 the first to say to me: 'Give it to her notv, David; 
 she'll never want it more than now.' " 
 
 Georgiana leaned forward, her lips parted. She 
 seemed hardly to breathe as her father went on, his 
 slender fingers gently caressing the little blue silk 
 bag: 
 
 "From the time you were a baby, a very little 
 baby, she saved this money for you. It came mostly 
 from wedding fees; I always gave her those to do 
 with as she would. They were a country minister's 
 fees — two-and-three-dollar fees mostly— once in a 
 great while some affluent farmer would pay me five 
 dollars. How your mother's eyes would shine when 
 I could give her a five! She turned all the bills and 
 silver into gold — a great many of these pieces are one- 
 dollar gold pieces. There are none of them in circu- 
 lation now; it may^ easily be that thav fe*ve in- 
 
MESSAGES 243 
 
 creased in value, being almost a curiosity in these 
 days. I think I have heard of something Hke that. 
 At any rate, dear, it is all yours. It was to have 
 been given to you to buy your wedding outfit; but 
 • — she would have wanted you to have it when it 
 could help you most." He held out the little bag. 
 "She made it of a bit of her wedding dress," he said, 
 and his hand trembled as it was extended toward his 
 daughter. "It was not only her wedding dress, it 
 was the best dress she had for many years." 
 
 With a low cry that was like that of a mother's for 
 a child, Georgiana took the little blue silk bag, heavy 
 in its comer with the weight of many small gold 
 pieces, and crushed it against her lips. Then, with 
 it held close to her cheek, she laid her head down 
 on her father's knee and sobbed her heart out for the 
 mother she had missed for ten long years. 
 
 In the little bag there proved to be almost a hun- 
 dred dollars — ninety-two in all. 
 
 "She sorely wanted to get it to a hundred," said 
 Father Davy, when he and Georgiana, their eyes 
 still wet, had counted the tarnished gold pieces that 
 had waited so long to be delivered to their owner. 
 "There seemed a dearth of marriages the year before 
 she went; the sum increased very slowly." 
 
 "She must have gone without — things she needed,'* 
 Georgiana said with difficulty. 
 
 "I think she did, but she would never own It. She 
 
244 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 was very clever, as you are, at making things over 
 and over, and she looked always trim and fine. She 
 was a beautiful woman^ — and a happy one, in spite of 
 all she was deprived of in her life with a poor country 
 minister. 'If my little daughter can only be as 
 happy as I have been,' she used to say, *it is all I ask.* 
 My dear, she would have liked — she would have 
 loved — ^Mr. Jefferson. I can't get over calling him 
 that," he added, with his whimsical smile struggling 
 to shine through the tears which would not quite be* 
 mastered. 
 
 "O Father Davy!" was all Georgiana could say. 
 But she lifted a flushed and lovely face with all 
 manner of womanly qualities written in it, and kissed 
 her father on brow and cheek and lips, as she would 
 have kissed her mother at such words as those. 
 
 "I wonder," said Mr. Warne, sitting comfortably 
 in the Pullman chair his daughter had insisted upon, 
 "if I can possibly be awake, not dreaming. I never 
 thought to take another journey." 
 
 "He said it wouldn't hurt you, and it's not. You're 
 ftot too tired ? I haven't seen you look so well for a 
 long time," declared his daughter. 
 
 The eyes of other passengers, across the aisle, were 
 irresistibly drawn to these two travelers — ^the frail, 
 intellectual-looking man with his curly gray hair and 
 his gentle blue eyes, his worn but carefully kept 
 
MESSAGES 245 
 
 garments, his way of turning to his daughter at every 
 change of scene — the daughter herself, with her face 
 of charm under the close hat with its veil, her clothing 
 the suit of dark summer serge with its lines of distinct 
 tion, which was still doing duty as the only present'^ 
 able street suit she possessed. 
 
 They were a more than commonly interesting pair, 
 these travelers, and they were furtively watched from 
 behind more than one newspaper. 
 
 Georgiana had no eyes for possible observers. 
 With Father Davy she preferred to sit with her chair 
 turned toward the window, looking out at the hills 
 and trying to realize the thing which was happening. 
 She was actually on her way to the home of a man 
 whom a month ago she had thought gone out of her 
 life forever. And, even now, he had not spoken a 
 word of love to her, had not asked her to marry him! 
 Yet he was to meet her at the end of this short 
 journey; she was to look out upon the platform and 
 see that distinguished figure standing there, waiting 
 for her — for her, Georgiana Warne, maker of rugs 
 for small sums of money, wearer of other people's 
 cast-ofF clothing, undistinguished by anything in th» 
 world — except by being the daughter of a real saint; 
 and that was much after all. Fate had not left her 
 without the best beginning in life, the being brought 
 into it by such a father and mother — bless them! 
 
 The hours flew by, the train passed through the 
 
246 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 outlying towns and came at last to the monster citj. 
 The lights within the car and without were bright as 
 they drew into the great station. Following the 
 porter who carried Mr. Wame's worn black bag and 
 his daughter's fine one — given her by Aunt Olivia 
 that summer — her arm beneath her father's, Georgi- 
 ana made her way through the car, into the vestibule, 
 out upon the platform. No sight of Doctor Craig 
 rewarded the hurried glance she gave about her. 
 But before she could take alarm a fresh-faced young 
 man in the livery of a chauffeur came up to her, say- 
 ing respectfully: 
 
 "I beg pardon, is it Miss Warne?" And upon her 
 assent he said rapidly: "Doctor Craig bid me say he 
 was called to a case he could not refuse, but he hopes 
 to be home soon. I am to take you up and to see to 
 your luggage." 
 
 "We have no luggage but these bags," Georgiana 
 told him, wondering for a moment how he had recog- 
 nized her so readily, then understanding that though 
 she herself might be a figure indistinguishable by 
 description from many another, that of Father 
 Davy could not fail of recognition by one who had 
 been told what to expect. 
 
 "I have a chair here for the gentleman," the man 
 said, and he indicated one of the station chairs at- 
 tended by a red-capped porter. 
 
 Mr. Warne, being wheeled rapidly through the 
 
MESSAGES 247 
 
 great station, looked about him with the eager eyes 
 of a boy. It was twenty years — twenty long and 
 quiet years, since he had been in New York. What 
 had not happened since then ? In spite of the myriad 
 descriptions he had read and pictures he had studied, 
 the effect upon him of the real city, as, having been 
 transferred from the chair to a small but luxurious 
 closed car, he was conveyed along the thronged, 
 astonishingly lighted streets, was overwhelming. 
 Suddenly he closed his eyes and laid his head back 
 against the cushioned leather. 
 
 Georgiana bent anxiously toward him. "Are you 
 frightfully tired. Father dear ? Are you — faint ? " 
 
 His eyes opened and his lips smiled reassuringly. 
 "A little tired, my dear, and very much dazed, but 
 not upset in any way. I shall be glad to sleep — and 
 glad to wake in this wondrous city." 
 
CHAPTER XXII 
 
 TOASTS 
 
 THEY drove downtown for many blocks, turning 
 at last into an old and still notable square which 
 is one of the great town's almost untouched residence 
 districts, in the very heart of its teeming commercial 
 life. Here, all at once, the noise of trafiic was 
 quieted. Only as a distant and not too disturbing 
 murmur came the sounds of the warfare which raged 
 so near. At one of the dingy but still stately old 
 houses the car drew up, the chauffeur alighted and 
 opened the door. He escorted the travelers up the 
 steps and rang the bell. 
 
 The door was opened by a lad in plain livery, and 
 he was reinforced immediately by a middle-aged 
 housekeeper who came forward and took the guests 
 in charge. She had a rosy face and iron-gray hair 
 and her accent was distinctly Scotch. 
 
 "I am Mrs. MacFayden, Doctor Craig's hoose- 
 keeper," she said. " Doctor Craig is mair than sorry 
 not to be here to greet ye baith. He tell't me to say ye 
 should mak' yersels quite at hame, and should hae 
 yer dinners wi'oot waitin' for him. If Maister Warne 
 
 248 
 
TOASTS 249 
 
 should be tae weary tae sit up longer, he should gang 
 awa' tae his bed. I know Doctor Craig will mak' all 
 the haste posseeble, but 'tis seldom he can carry oot 
 his ain plans, for the press o' sick folks aifter him day 
 an' nicht." 
 
 " Doctor Craig is very kind," said Mr. Wame. "If 
 it will not seem discourteous I think I shall lie down 
 upon my bed, for I am not accustomed to travel and 
 am a little tired." 
 
 "That wuU be the best thing posseeble for ye," 
 said the kindly housekeeper, leading the way up- 
 stairs. ■ "Tammas, ye'll bring the luggage. I should 
 advise, Maister Wame, bavin' a small tray in your 
 room an' then attemptin' no mair than juist tae see 
 Doctor Craig, when he cooms tae say gude nicht." 
 
 She led her guests into a large, square, pleasant 
 room, furnished with old mahogany. A cheery fire 
 was burning in a fireplace. She opened a second 
 door, and showed a connecting room, of lesser size 
 but very attractive. 
 
 "The Doctor often has special patients stayin' in 
 these rooms," she said, "but fortunateiy they were 
 emptied three days agone, and kept for ye. The 
 Doctor has always some puir soul he wants to mak' 
 comfortaWe. I'm glad 'tis guests this time he has, 
 an' no patients. He needs to forget his wark when he 
 cooms hame, but 'tis seldom he has the opportunity." 
 . She left them, saying that if the Doctor had not 
 
250 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 returned by eight she would serve dinner for Miss 
 Warne alone. 
 
 "No, please, Mrs. MacFayden," begged Georgi- 
 ana. "If my father has his tray here I will see 
 him to his bed. I really do not care for dinner at 
 all." 
 
 The housekeeper smiled. "The Doctor would 
 na' be pleased wi' me, if I let ye go dinnerless," she 
 said. " But I'm thinkin' we'll see him soon, Wull 
 ye coom doon to the library, Miss Warne, when 
 ye're ready? 'Tis the door at the richt o* the front 
 entrance. The door on the left is the waitin' room, 
 an' the Doctor does na' keep office hours at nicht." 
 
 With a fast-beating heart Georgiana set about 
 making ready for that descent to the library. The 
 whole affair was becoming more and more a stsain 
 upon her nerves. If Doctor Craig had met them at 
 the station it would have been far easier for her than 
 thia. But here she was, actually in his house, comb- 
 ing her hair in his guest-room, going down to dinner 
 at his table — and she had not seen or heard from him, 
 except by telegram, since the hour when he had given 
 her hand that meaning pressure and left her with her 
 friends. It was an extraordinary experience, to say 
 the least. 
 
 She wondered how she should dress for dinner — 
 the dinner that she might eat alone! She had only 
 her traveling suit and one simple little gray silk, 
 
TOASTS 251 
 
 dyed from a white "Semi-Annual" and made very 
 simply, with a wide collar and cuffs of white net. 
 Anybody but Georgiana would have looked like a 
 Quakeress in the gray silk, but with her dark hair 
 and warm colouring she succeeded only in imitating 
 a young nun but just removed from scenes of worldly 
 gayety! She decided that the hour and the occasion 
 called for this frock, and put it on with fingers which 
 shook a little. 
 
 Eight o'clock. She dared wait no longer, so, mak- 
 ing sure that her father, having eaten and drunk, 
 was resting luxuriously on his bed, she opened her 
 door. The house seemed very quiet, and she went 
 slowly along the upper hall, and after pausing a 
 moment at the top of the fine staircase with its white 
 spindles and mahogany rail, she began to descend. 
 The steps were heavily padded and her footfall made 
 no sound; therefore, as she afterward realized, a very 
 close watch must have been kept, for the moment 
 she came in sight of the open library door a figure 
 appeared there. 
 
 The next moment Jefferson Craig had crossed 
 the hall and was standing at the foot of the staircase, 
 looking up at the descending guest. The guest, 
 naturally enough, paused, four stairs up, looking 
 down. The light, from a quaint lantern hood of 
 wrought iron and crystal hanging above the newel 
 post, shone full upon the dark head and vivid face 
 
252 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 above the demure gray frock with its nunlike broad 
 collar and cuffs of thin white. 
 
 The man below looked for a full minute without 
 speaking, but Georgiana could not have told what 
 expression was upon his face or whether he smiled. 
 She knew that at the end of that long look he 
 stretched one arm toward her, and that obeying the 
 gesture which was all but a command she came on 
 down those four remaining steps. Jefferson Craig led 
 her into the library, where a great fire sparkled and 
 leaped and filled the room, otherwise sombre whh 
 books, full of welcoming cheer. He closed the door, 
 then led her to the hearth. 
 
 "Where shall we begin?" he said, in that low but 
 very distinct voice she so well remembered. "Where 
 we left off?" 
 
 "I'm not," answered Georgiana, looking away 
 from him into the fire, whose light flashed in 
 her eyes less disconcertingly than that which she 
 somehow knew leaped in his, "sure where we left 
 off." 
 
 "Aren't you? I am. We left off where we had 
 each seen, for just one instant, into the other's 
 heart. And having seen there was no forgetting — 
 no ? — Georgiana ? " 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 "It was good of you to come to me," he said very 
 gently. Her hand was still held fast in his. "I 
 
TOASTS ^^253 
 
 did my best to have it the other way — the usual 
 way. There seemed a fate against it. I could 
 have written, but somehow I didn't want to. I 
 preferred to wait — ^with the memory of your face 
 always before me, till I could see it again. And 
 now that I see it — bent down — and turned away" — 
 he laughed a low laugh of content — "oh, look up, 
 Georgiana! Surely you're not afraid now. You 
 know I've been loving you ever since I saw you first, 
 in spite of thinking I n.ust not, because of the one I 
 understood you belonged to " 
 
 She looked up then out of sheer astonishment. 
 "Oh, no, not since you saw me first," she disputed. 
 
 "It couldn't be — and I thinking all the while " 
 
 She stopped in confusion at the revelation she might 
 be making. 
 
 But he caught her up. "You thinking all the 
 while — ^what ? Tell me I " 
 
 "I thought — ^you hadn't the least interest in me. 
 
 "Did you care whether I had or not?" 
 
 "I — tried not to care," confessed Georgiana 
 naively. She smiled, a sparkling httle smile. It 
 was so clear now, that he wanted this confession. 
 
 He looked at her for a minute longer, then he! 
 said: "Don't you think enough has been said to' 
 warrant — ^this?" 
 
 It was then that Georgiana learned how little one 
 may judge from outward quiet of manner and con-' 
 
2S4 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 trolled speech what may happen when the heart is 
 allowed to speak for itself. 
 
 "Forgive me," he said at last, when he had re- 
 leased her, all enchanting confusion under his intent 
 gaze; "but you know the breaking up of a famine 
 sometimes makes human beings hard to manage. 
 If you could know the times I've watched you, 
 when you were bent over my illegible fist of copy, 
 and thought how I should like just to put my hand 
 on your beautiful hair- " 
 
 A knock sounded upon the door. With an ex- 
 clamation of annoyance Doctor Craig left Georgiana 
 and opened it. 
 
 "Dinner is served, sir," announced Thomas, the 
 boy. 
 
 His master turned back with a laughing, remorseful 
 face. "I had forgotten all about dinner," he said, 
 "though now I come to think of it I believ* I had 
 no luncheon. You must be famishing. Mrs. Mac- 
 Fayden tells me your father is resting. We will go 
 up and see him — before dinner or after?" 
 
 "I think he will drop off to sleep for a little, he is 
 so tired, and then wake by and by and be ready to 
 see you." 
 
 "Good! It couldn't be better. I am eager to 
 see Mr. Warne, but I want him to be ready for me — 
 who have so much to ask of him. Meanwhile — 
 shall we go?" 
 
TOASTS ass 
 
 He offered her his arm, such graceful deference in 
 his manner that she felt afresh the wonder of his 
 wish to transplant her from her world to his. As 
 they walked slowly through the dignified old hall 
 he said in a tone of great satisfaction: "Mrs. 
 MacFayden has ventured to hint to me more than 
 once that this house is of the sort which needs a 
 mistress. To-night, when she saw me come in, 
 she said to me very respectfully: 'It's a gled day for 
 ye, Doctor, an' now that I've seen the lassie I can 
 congratulate ye wi' all mae hert. She'll mak' a bonny 
 lady to be at the head o' the hoose, if ye'll permit 
 me to say the thocht.' I assure you, Georgiana, the 
 conquest of my good Scottish housekeeper upon 
 sight is no small achievement." 
 
 "It must have been my gray gown and white 
 cuffs," suggested the girl demurely. 
 
 He looked down at the hand resting on his arm. 
 "Now that I have time to look at anything but 
 your face," he said, "I see that you are wearing 
 something very satisfying to the eye. I like simple 
 things, such as I have always seen you wear." 
 
 With inward astonishment and congratulation 
 Georgiana thought of all the dyed and reconstructed 
 "Semi-Annuals" which had marched in a frugal 
 procession across his vision during the past year. 
 Suddenly she felt an affection for the very frock she 
 wore, difficult as had been its achievement from the 
 
2S6 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 materials in hand. Certainly, women in beautiful 
 and wonderful clothing, such as he saw daily, had 
 had no chance with him against the attraction of 
 herself in the cleverly adapted makeshifts of her own 
 fingers. It was the girl who had made the most of 
 herself and her home out of her restricted means 
 who had drawn to her side this man whose judgment 
 must approve his love or he could never love at 
 all. 
 
 Things hjidn't been so unequal after all. The 
 wise God, who had set her life thus far in the midst 
 of poverty, had given her with which to fight it the 
 wit and resource which fashion weapons out of ma- 
 terials which more favoured mortals cast away. That 
 greatest of gifts bestowed upon the daughters of men 
 had been hers — ^the creative touch. At last she 
 recognized it, and knew it for what it was. Using 
 this good gift she had learned other things than the 
 making of clothes! 
 
 A great warm surge of joy and understanding 
 enveloped Georgiana Warne as Jefferson Craig, hav- 
 ing led her into the dining-room and placed her cere- 
 moniously in her chair, bent over her where she sat, 
 saying softly: 
 
 "This place has been waiting a long time at the 
 bachelor's board. Now that I see it filled — like 
 this — I know how well worth while it's been to wait." 
 ' He took the place opposite her. With a nod at the 
 
TOASTS 3S7 
 
 boy Thomas, he dismissed him for the moment. 
 He looked across the table, rich with the finest ap- 
 pointments in his house, arranged by a housekeeper 
 who heartily approved his everyday simplicity of 
 life, but who exulted to-night in the chance to show 
 the lady of his choice the fine old heirlooms of silver 
 and damask which were to come to her. Smiling, 
 he lifted a delicately chased goblet of water which 
 stood beside his plate. 
 
 "To my wife!" he said. 
 
 Georgiana, raising the face of a rose, took up her 
 own glass. She looked at it a moment, her eyes like 
 dark twin fires, her lips taking on lovely curves. 
 Then she lifted it toward the man opposite. 
 
 "TO-^OM.'" 
 
 "Still afraid?" asked Jefferson Craig, watching 
 her as one watches only that which is the delight of 
 his eyes. "Never mind; I'll teach you by and by 
 the word I want to hear." 
 
 Upstairs, the slender figure on the bed stirred from 
 the brief sleep which had claimed it. Father Davy 
 opened his eyes again upon the firelit room and the 
 pleasant comfort which surrounded him. 
 
 "Before they come," he thought, "I must tell my 
 Father how I feel about it. I was too tired even to 
 pray. But I am quite rested now." 
 
 He slipped down gently to his knees and closed his 
 
258 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 eyes, folding his thin hands on the heavy white 
 counterpane before him. 
 
 "Dear God," he said, "I have the desire of my 
 heart — ^the answer to my prayers — and I am very 
 glad to-night. Yet Thou knowest my heart is 
 heavy, too — ^with longing for my Phoebe. Tell her. 
 Father, that her child is happy in the love of the 
 best man she could have asked for. And tell her 
 that David loves and longs for her to-night with the 
 love that will never die. For th^t love that will 
 not die in spite of years and pain I thank Thee. If 
 it may be, give our child the same blessed experience. 
 And teach us to love and serve Thee, world without 
 end. Amen." 
 
CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 WHY NOT? 
 
 THERE'S just one more thing to be settled," 
 observed Dr. Jefferson Craig. "While we are 
 settling things, suppose we attend to that." 
 
 He stood upon the hearthrug before the fire in his 
 library, elbow on chimney piece, looking down upon 
 his two guests. It was eight o'clock of the evening 
 following that upon which Mr. David Warne and 
 Georgiana had arrived at the big New York house in 
 the old-time, downtown square. Although they had 
 been under the hospitable roof for more than twenty- 
 four hours it was the first occasion on which the three 
 had been together for more than a few minutes at a 
 time. 
 
 On the previous evening in an upstairs room had 
 been enacted a little scene which would live forever 
 in the memories of them all; but Doctor Craig, per- 
 ceiving with trained eyes the signs of growing fatigue 
 in his frail friend after the unwonted strain of the day 
 and its necessarily emotional climax, had gently but 
 firmly insisted on withdrawing at an early hour. 
 Georgiana had remained with her father, herself con- 
 
 2S9 
 
26o UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 tent to have the strange and wonderful day end in the 
 old, simple, and natural way in which her days had 
 ended for so long. She had felt, as she performed her 
 customary daughterly offices for the beloved invalid, 
 that she had quite enough to take with her to her own 
 pillow to insure its being the happiest upon which she 
 had ever laid her head. 
 
 They had seen little of Doctor Craig on the follow- 
 ing day; but he had taken dinner with them that 
 night, and as he had brought them back to the li- 
 brary fire he had given stringent directions to the boy 
 Thomas that he be disturbed only for the most im- 
 portant summons. And hardly had the trio taken 
 their places in the pleasant room before JelFerson 
 Craig made his statement that there was something 
 still unsettled in their affairs. 
 
 As he spoke he was looking down at Georgiana. 
 It would have been strange if he could have kept his 
 eyes away from her to-night. Like a flower in sun- 
 shine had she bloomed under the warm influence of 
 the joy which had come to her when she least ex- 
 pected it. She was again wearing the little gray silk 
 frock, but now its nunlike simplicity was gone — and 
 happily gone — for a bunch of glowing pink Killarney 
 roses at her belt, placed there by Doctor Craig's 
 hands, lighted the plain costume into one of a charm 
 which could no longer be called demure. 
 
 "Something still to settle?" It was Father Davy 
 
WHY NOT? 261 
 
 who replied, for Georgiana had no answer for that 
 suggestion. One glance at Doctor Craig's face, as 
 he said the words, had told her what was coming. 
 
 "The most important thing of all. Everything 
 else is in order. You, dear sir, have agreed to come 
 and live with us. We are convinced that it's not a 
 sacrifice, except for the leaving of certain old friends. 
 You have a zest still for seeing and hearing the things 
 you have been denied; it's to be our keen pleasure to 
 make your days go by on wings. You're going to 
 have plenty of room here for the bookcases and the ; 
 books, all the furnishings you care to keep — in short, 
 you're to live the old life with a fine new one as 
 well. Altogethei, everything is in train f»r the great 
 change, except" — he crossed the hearthrug at a 
 stride, and laid a son's hand upon the thin shoulder 
 of Father Davy — "except the date of it," he finished, 
 smiling down into the uplifted face. 
 
 " But that," replied Georgiana's father without hesi- 
 tation, "is not for me to settle. It is for you two." 
 
 Craig looked across at Georgiana and for a minute 
 studied her down-bent profile as she sat gazing into 
 the flames; then came round to her, plucking a pillow 
 from a big leather couch by the way, to drop it at her 
 feet and throw himself down upon it. So placed he 
 could look straight into her face. "You'll have to 
 take an interest in the ceiling now if you succeed in 
 avoiding me," he said, with a low laugh. 
 
■» 
 
 262 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 "I don't want to avoid you," answered Georgiana, 
 and let her eyes meet his fairly for an instant. She 
 could not yet do this in a quite casual way. 
 
 He crossed his arms upon her knee, sitting in a 
 boyish attitude and looking not unlike a big boy for 
 the moment, for all the lines of care were gone from 
 his face in the soft firelight, and happiness had laid 
 its rosy mantle over his shoulders as over hers. He 
 began to speak rather quickly: 
 
 " For the life of me, I can't think of a reason why 
 you should go back and spend a winter in the same 
 old grind, waiting till spring and — making me wait till 
 spring. Why should anybody wait till spring? I've 
 let you talk about all the work you were going to do 
 this winter at home, but that was just because I 
 didn't want to make you feel as if you were caught in 
 a trap. I had an idea that for a few hours, anyhow, it 
 might seem enough of a change to come down here 
 and promise to marry a perfect stranger of a surgeon 
 instead of the 'literary light' you knew. I thought 
 we'd let it go at that for those few hours. But now 
 — it doesn't seem to me possible to go back to bache- 
 lorhood again, even with such a prospect before me 
 in the spring. Not after having tasted — ^this. 
 Georgiana, why must I?" 
 
 Her face was the colour of her roses. There was no 
 getting away from the challenge of those eyes that 
 watched her so steadily — not even by following his 
 
WHY NOT? 263 
 
 suggestion and gazing persistently ceilingward . Craig 
 glanced at Father Davy, to find that his soft blue 
 eyes showed no sign of shock, and that his face was 
 perfectly placid as he looked and listened. 
 
 The younger man went on, coming straight to the 
 point: "Georgiana, marry me before you go back! 
 You've promised to stay a week. Let's have a 
 wedding here, next Wednesday. Then we'll leave 
 Father Davy here comfortably with Mrs. Mac- 
 Fayden, and run up to see about getting things 
 packed and shipped. I'll take that much of a vaca- 
 tion now. Then, in April, we'll go abroad for a real 
 honeymoon and take Father Davy with us. I'd 
 propose that now, but the seas are stormy in Decem- 
 ber and January and we mustn't risk it for him. 
 But, let's not wait! Why should we? Now, hon- 
 estly, why should we ? " 
 
 The girl turned her face, with a strange little look, 
 of appeal, toward her father, to meet such a look of 
 entire comprehension as stirred her to the depths. 
 Suddenly, obeying an impulse she did not understand, 
 she drew herself gently away from Craig, rose and 
 went to the figure in the big chair opposite. She 
 sat down on the arm and, bending, dropped her face 
 upon the fatherly shoulder, hiding it there. Craig 
 sat perfectly still, watching the pair, as Father Davy 
 put up a thin, white hand and patted the dark head. 
 Then the two men smiled at each other. 
 
264 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY , 
 
 After a while Craig got up and quietly left th« 
 room. 
 
 By and by Father Davy whispered: "What is it» 
 dear? You're not ready ? You shall not be hurried. 
 Or is it " 
 
 She spoke into his ear. "I want to go back home 
 — and earn — and earn — enough to r" 
 
 "Can you earn it, daughter? Can you ever get 
 enough ahead to provide what you would like ? And 
 meanwhile — he wants you very much, my dear. I 
 think I know more of his heart than you do, in a way. 
 Last winter we had certain talks that showed me a 
 little of that. Would it be such a blow to pride to do 
 as he asks? Unless — in other ways you are not 
 ready. If your love for him isn't quite mature 
 enough yet " 
 
 "Oh, it isn't that; it's mature enough. It — ^it 
 hasn't grown, in spite of me, all this year like — a — 
 tumbleweed" — ^her voice was a little breathless— 
 "not to have got its growth " 
 
 "Its first growth," amended her father, with a 
 meaning smile. 
 
 She nodded. "But — if you could know how I 
 want — time to make the most of — what mother left 
 me. I could do so much if I just had time. If I 
 used it now I should have to use it up so fast! There'll 
 be fifty dollars left when we get back. I could almost 
 make that do, if — ^no, of course I couldn't. But I 
 
WHY NOT? 265 
 
 could earn more. O Father Davy, is it wrong of 
 me to be so proud?" 
 
 "Not wrong, my girl, but very natural, I suppose. 
 Yet to me — well, dear, I hardly know how to say 
 what I feel. I confess I should Uke to see you mar- 
 ried to this man. Life is — so short " 
 
 They sat together in silence for a time; then 
 Georgiana slipped back into the seat where she had 
 been. 
 
 Presently Father Davy said that it had been a full 
 day, and that he thought he should be fitter for the 
 morrow if he should go to bed. Georgiana went up 
 with him, saw him comfortably resting, Ustened 
 while he whispered something in her ear as she bent 
 above him, kissed him Avith her heart on her lips, and 
 finally stole like a mouse down the stairs again. 
 
 When she came into the library once more it was 
 to find herself in arms which held her close. "Do 
 you think I don't understand, my dearest?" said the 
 low voice which had such power to move her. "Do 
 you think I don't respect and love you for your 
 perfectly natural feeling about it all? But, Georgi- 
 ana, you bring me a dowry bigger than any I could 
 ask for — ^the inheritance from such a father as he is 
 — and from the mother who gave you all he left her 
 to give. What are towels and tablecloths — I don't 
 know what it is brides bring! — ^beside such things as 
 these? Won't you give me the real thing, and 
 
266 UNDER THE COXJNTRY SKY 
 
 let me furnish the ones that don't count? Dear, If 
 you could know the pleasure there is for me in the 
 very thought of buying you — a hat!" 
 
 She could but smile, his tone put so much awe inte 
 the word. Suddenly she grew whimsical; it was so 
 like Georgiana to do that when she was deeply 
 stirred! 
 
 "What do you suppose that hat was made of, I 
 wore here?" she asked him. "I'll tell you. I found 
 the shape for twenty-five cents at the village mil- 
 liner's. I cut it down and sewed it up again into 
 another shape. Then I hunted through the old 
 'Semi-Annuals'; you don't know what those are, do 
 you? I found a piece of velvet that had been a 
 flounce. I steamed it and covered the shape. Then 
 I had to have some trimming. It came from an old 
 evening cloak of my Cousin Jeannette's — a bit of 
 gilt, a silk rose, some ribbon from — I can't tell you 
 what it came from, but it had to be dyed to match 
 the velvet. I couldn't quite get the shade. But the 
 hat, when it was done, wasn't so bad." 
 
 "Where is it now?" 
 
 "Upstairs in my room." 
 
 "Would you mind getting it?" 
 
 She laughed, hesitated, finally ran upstairs and 
 down again, the hat in hand. Pausing before an 
 old gilt mirror in the hall she put it on, then came to 
 him, lifting her head with a proud and merry look 
 
WHY NOT? 26> 
 
 which bade him beware how he might venture to 
 criticise the work of her hands. 
 
 Adjusting his eyeglasses with care, he viewed it 
 judicially. "It looks very nice to me," he said. 
 "Suppose you keep it on and put on a coat and let 
 me take you out in the car for a few minutes. There's 
 a certain window uptown I should like to look at, 
 with you." 
 
 , " I have no coat," she said steadily, and now the 
 colour ebbed a little from her warm cheek, "except 
 the one that belongs with the suit I wore. It's 
 short; it wouldn't do to wear with a dress like this." 
 
 "I see." Suddenly he came close again, gently 
 lifted the hat from the dark masses of her hair, laid it 
 carefully on a table near by, and drew her with him 
 to a broad, high-backed couch at one side of the fire. 
 
 "I can see," he said, very quietly, "that you and 
 I have much to do in getting to know each other. 
 Let's lose no time in beginning. Listen, while I 
 try to tell you what marriage means to me — and 
 to find out what it means to you." 
 
 It was a long talk, and, by the kindness of the 
 fates which rule over the irregular schedule of the 
 men of Craig's profession, an uninterrupted one. 
 Long before it was over Georgiana learned many 
 new things concerning the man who was to be her 
 husband, not the least of which was his power of 
 making others see as he saw, feel as he felt, and be- 
 
268 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 lieve, from first to last, in his absolute integrity of 
 motive. And when he told her what he thought he 
 could do for her father if he should have him under 
 his eye during the coming winter, the period which 
 was always so long and trying for the sensitive frame 
 of the invalid, whose resisting powers were at their 
 lowest when the winter winds were blowing, she 
 gave way and the question was settled. 
 
 But she did not give way in everjrthing after all, 
 nor did he ask her to do so. When he suggested 
 details of preparation, and she shook her head, he 
 smiled and told her it should all be as she wished. 
 And when he said, very gently, that he hoped she 
 would let him provide her with the means to buy 
 whatever she might need, because everything that 
 he had was hers already, he took with a submission 
 that was all grace her refusal to use a penny of his 
 until she should bear his name. If he made certain 
 reservations of his own as to what might happen 
 when he should hold the right, that did not show. 
 
 "So that I get you, dearest," he said at the end of 
 the evening, just before he let her go, "I am willing 
 to take you in any sort of package you may select for 
 yourself. Personally it seems to me that jeweller's 
 cotton is the most appropriate background for you, 
 if you won't have a satin-and- velvet case!" 
 
 At which Georgiana laughed, and assured him that 
 she was no real jewel, only one of the secondary 
 
WHY NOT? 269 
 
 stones, and uncut at that. The answer she got to 
 this sent her off upstairs with thriUing pulses, to He 
 awake for a long time, recalling his voice and look 
 as he said the few suddenly grave words which had 
 given her a gHmpse of his bare heart. 
 
CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 MAGIC GOLD 
 
 THE days which followed were to be remembered 
 with peculiar delight all Georgiana's life. Each 
 morning, in Doctor Craig's own car, accompanied 
 by her father, she went shopping. Mr. Warne 
 could not use his strength in following her into the 
 shops, but he could sit at ease in a corner of the 
 luxurious, closed landau, an extra pillow tucked 
 behind his back, an electric footwarmer at his feet, 
 his slender form wrapped in a wonderful fur-lined 
 coat which his son-in-law to-be had put upon him 
 with the reasonable explanation that it had proved 
 to be too small for himself. From this sheltered 
 position he could watch the hurrying crowds, study 
 the faces and find untiring interest in the happenings 
 of the streets. 
 
 Not the smallest part of his pleasure lay in re- 
 ceiving his daughter again each time she came hurry- 
 ing out of some great portal, the tiniest of packages 
 under her arm. Although Duncan, Doctor Craig's 
 chauffeur, was always watching, ready to jump from 
 his seat and assist her, she was usually too quick 
 
 270 
 
MAGIC GOLD 271 
 
 for him to be of much use, though she always gave 
 him her friendly smile and thanks for his eagerness. 
 It may be said that Duncan himself, a young Scots- 
 man whose devotion to his master was now aug- 
 mented by his admiration of his master's choice, 
 enjoyed those shopping expeditions with an unusual 
 zest. 
 
 "Oh, but these shops are wonderful. Father 
 Davy!" Georgiana was fain to cry, as she came back 
 with her purchases. "Of course I have to shut my 
 eyes and simply fly past the counters where I'd like 
 to buy everything in sight. But I do find such 
 glorious little bargains, such treasures of left-overs 
 — you can't think how I'm making my money hold 
 out! I'm so thankful for all my training in turning 
 and twisting; it's such a help just now!" 
 
 If Father Davy rejoiced within himself that the 
 days of "left-overs" for Georgiana were all but past 
 and that there was to be no more "turning and twist- 
 ing," at least with material things, he did not say so. 
 Instead he surveyed the contents of the small pack- 
 ages with eyes which were nearly as bright as hers, 
 and made her supremely content with his approval. 
 
 The climax of the shopping came on the morning 
 of the third day. Georgiana returned to the car 
 after a more than usually long absence, during which, 
 for the first time, Mr. Warne had become slightly 
 weary of using his eyes in watching the ever-moving 
 
272 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 throng, and had dropped ofF, in his warm corner, 
 into a little refreshing nap. He wakened to find 
 Georgiana beside him, the car moving uptown by 
 a less congested route than they had taken before, 
 and his daughter's hand firmly clasping his. 
 
 He looked round at her and saw, to his surprise 
 and dismay, that her heavy lashes were thick with 
 tears. But she smiled through them, and bade him 
 wait to hear the reason until they were in the Park, 
 where each morning a drive, according to Doctor 
 Craig's suggestion, was taken before the swift run 
 back to the downtown square. 
 
 The moment they were well within the precincts 
 and had entered upon the less frequented drive 
 which she had asked for, Georgiana turned to her 
 father. She held up something before him, and, 
 looking at it, he discovered the little old bag of dark 
 blue silk which her mother had fashioned from her own 
 wedding gown, and which had contained the treas- 
 ured gold pieces which had made it possible for Georg- 
 iana to have a wedding gown of her own. 
 
 "It's nearly empty now," said the girl softly. 
 "It's .bought so much, Father Davy; I've begun to 
 think it was magic gold! Everybody — all the shop- 
 girls and women — have helped me spend it. It was 
 as if they knew I must make it go a long way and 
 wanted to do it. I really think" — she gave a tremu- 
 lous little laugh — ^"it was a good thing I wasn't 
 
MAGIC GOLD 273 
 
 dressed to match the car I came in, or they never 
 would have taken the trouble to hunt up the things 
 I wanted — at the prices I could pay. The fact that 
 I looked like a shopgirl, too, was such a help!" 
 
 "A shopgirl!" repeated her father. "You, my 
 dear ? What would Jefferson say to that ? No mat- 
 ter how you were dressed you could not possibly look 
 anything but what you are." 
 
 "Oh, but. Father Davy, dear, you don't knowwhat 
 many and many of the shopgirls, especially these 
 city girls, look like. There are such beautiful faces 
 among them, such soft voices, such really charming 
 manners. Of course there are plenty of the other 
 kind, the cheap and common sort, but so many of the 
 nice kind! I don't mind looking like some of them, 
 indeed I don't. And the fact that I'm wearing this 
 little old summer serge suit, now in December, with 
 this hat, which any clever girl would know I made 
 myself — ^well, it has helped me to interest their sym- 
 pathies in my search. And now I've found" — her 
 voice sank — "I've found what I couldn't have ex- 
 pected to find in all New York. And I'm so glad — 
 so glad — I can't tell you. Look!" 
 
 She slowly unwrapped a long, slim, cylinderlike 
 parcel, and brought to view what it contained. In- 
 closed in its pasteboard protector, to keep it un- 
 wrinkled in its soft perfection, lay a roll of dark blue 
 silk, of a small brocaded pattern. 
 
274 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 Georgiana silently laid the little blue-silk bag upon 
 it, and held up the two so that her father coulJl see 
 how close was the resemblance. The colour was 
 precisely the same, making allowances for the slight 
 dimming of age; while the design of the brocade was 
 so similar that the two might have been made in the 
 same period, if not by the same hand. 
 
 Mr. Warne studied the two fabrics intently for a 
 moment, then looked into his daughter's eyes. He 
 was too moved to speak. When she herself could 
 talk again composedly she told him what she meant 
 to do. The blue silk, made by her own hands in the 
 three days left her, was to be her wedding gown. 
 She had bought a little fine lace, fit for such a use, 
 with which to make the finishing; and no matter what 
 Doctor Jefferson might think of such a substitute for 
 the customary bridal attire, for herself she should be 
 far happier than in the finest white silk or satin that 
 could be bought. 
 
 "God bless you, my little girl!" Father Davy mur- 
 mured, wiping his eyes, their clear blue depths misty. 
 
 His thin hand clasped the little blue bag again, his 
 heart ached with the sorrow which is part joy and 
 with the joy which is part sorrow. Nothing his 
 Phoebe's daughter could have done would have 
 proclaimed her so truly the child of her mother as 
 this unexpected act. He looked again and again at 
 the roll of blue silk in Georgiana's lap. 
 
MAGIC GOLD 275 
 
 "How strange it seems that you could find it," he 
 said, "now when everything is so different from the 
 fashions of twenty-five years ago." 
 
 "It's a revival, the silk man said. He explained 
 that the styles of the moment call for the fabrics 
 and patterns of the past, and that it's a constant 
 revolution, bringing back every once in so often what 
 is old-fashioned between times. But he himself was 
 surprised that the very newest thing on his shelves 
 was the one that matched the old. I think he was 
 almost as pleased as I was — ^without knowing any- 
 thing about it, except that I was very anxious to find 
 the silk. And now to hurry home and make it ! " 
 
 Her unconscious use of the word "home" struck 
 pleasantly upon Mr. Warne's ears. He himself was 
 beginning to feel very much at home in the old square. 
 Small wonder, since he had found there the son he had 
 longed for all his married life. 
 
 Back at the house Georgiana fell to work without 
 delay. She had told Mrs. MacFayden her intention, 
 and had enlisted the warm interest of that motherly 
 Scotswoman. She had offered Doctor Craig's young 
 guest the use of her own sitting-room, with that of the 
 sewing-machine which stood there, and here pres- 
 ently Georgiana unrolled her breadths of silk and 
 laid upon them the pattern she had selected. 
 
 And now, indeed, she was glad of the long training 
 in the dressmaker's trade, glad of the clever art she 
 
276 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 had cultivated for so many years. It was to her a 
 simple enough matter to fashion herself a dress which 
 should be in form and line all that could be desired. 
 To do it out of unbroken yards of material, without 
 necessity for piecing and patching, was a delightful 
 novelty. To accomplish it in three days was only 
 a matter of working at top speed, with fingers which 
 flew at the behest of a brain which also worked like 
 magic at its task. 
 
 During this period Doctor Craig himself was more 
 than ordinarily busy, to judge by his infrequent jrp- 
 pearances at his home. For those last three days 
 before his marriage he was out of town, returning only 
 on the evening preceding the date set. But Georgi- 
 ana found no lack in him as a lover, for during the 
 brief moments when he could be with her he made the 
 most of his opportunity, letting her see plainly that 
 she was always in his thoughts, and giving her every 
 evidence that he was the happiest of expectant 
 bridegrooms. Each day a great box of flowers was 
 brought to her, in which she revelled as she had only 
 dreamed of doing. While he was away he called 
 her up each evening on the telephone, managing to 
 send her somehow, over the wire, a sense of his near- 
 ness and his devotion. Altogether those few days 
 brought to Georgiana an experience unique in a life- 
 time, and one which she would gladly have pro- 
 longed. 
 
MAGIC GOLD 277 
 
 Then, it seemed quite suddenly, it was Wednesday 
 morning, and the sun was shining brilliantly in at 
 Georgiana's windows over a thousand roof-tops. The 
 marriage was to occur at noon, because, for a bride 
 whose bridal finery was limited to a little frock of 
 dark blue silk and whose traveling attire was the 
 plainest of ready-to-wear suits and simplest of 
 small hats, without furs or furbelows of any sort, it 
 .seemed the only fitting hour. 
 
 It had been arranged that the two essential wit- 
 nesses to the ceremony should be two close friends of 
 Doctor Craig's, an elderly couple whose name, if the 
 Warnes had known, was one of the old names of the 
 city, standing for the bluest of blue Knickerbocker 
 iblood, though for only moderate wealth and for no 
 ostentation whatever. Georgiana had begged that 
 no other guests be asked, being anxious, on her 
 father's account, to have the whole affair over with 
 ithe least possible agitation for him. To this Doctor 
 Craig had cordially agreed. 
 
 At eleven o'clock, however, a third guest arrived, 
 a most unexpected guest, who with a ruddy, eager 
 face, came running up the old stone steps of the house, 
 a great florist's box under his arm. He demanded of 
 the boy Thomas instant entrance, and waved back 
 at a taxicab driver the summons to bring along a 
 much larger box which was nearly filling that vehicle, 
 
 Georgiana, peeping out of her father's window, be- 
 
278 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 held, and was off and down the stairs before Thomas 
 could fairly begin his explanation that Miss Warne 
 was engaged and could not be intruded upon at this 
 hour. 
 
 "O Jimps!" 
 
 "Well, well, George! You came pretty near giv- 
 ing me the slip, didn't you? But not quite — thanks 
 to Doctor Craig." 
 
 Georgiana showed her surprise. "Did he let you 
 know?" 
 
 She had led him instantly inside the library and 
 had unconsciously closed the door all but in the face 
 of the interested Thomas, ignoring both florist's box 
 and big package, which that young man would have 
 brought in to her. She had both hands on James 
 Stuart's shoulders, and was looking him straight in 
 the eyes, which looked as straightly back. If there 
 had ever been the beginning of romance between 
 these two, clearly it was far in the background now. 
 Never did brother and sister face each other with their 
 relationship more clearly defined. 
 
 "I should say he did — since you didn't! What 
 did you mean by trying to steal a march on us all 
 like this? Jeannette is furious, though of course 
 she isn't strong enough to come, wild though she is 
 to do it. She wanted me to tell you that she'll have 
 revenge when she gets about, and that you won't 
 escape her wedding presents. Meanwhile she's sent 
 
MAGIC GOLD 279 
 
 you something she had on hand, because there was 
 no time to get anything else. She thought you 
 would find a use for it somehow. She sent her 
 love with it — and I can tell you that's pretty val- 
 uable." 
 
 "Of course it is! Jimps, I'm so pleased, so won- 
 derfully pleased that you are here — I can't tell you!" 
 
 "Then, why in the name of old friendship didn't 
 you send for me .? " Stuart demanded, for plainly this 
 still rankled. "Evidently Doctor Craig had more 
 belief in that than you did." 
 
 "I wanted to, indeed I did, Jimps, dear, but I 
 thought — I was sure — ^well " 
 
 Stuart laughed. "Thought I wanted to save 
 every penny for my own wedding, eh? I rather 
 guess I can squander a few on yours. I wouldn't 
 have missed it for worlds, though I'd give a good deal 
 if my sweetheart could have been here, too — and so 
 would she, bless her! She's coming on splendidly, 
 George — looks almost herself again. In a month 
 more her doctor will let up on restrictions." 
 
 They talked fast, with an eye on the library clock, 
 and when its deep, slow chime proclaimed the half- 
 hour Georgiana rose. 
 
 "I must go now. Come and stay with father till 
 the hour arrives, will you? It will steady him to see 
 you. Not but that he seems as serene as ever, but 
 I know inside it's a pretty big strain for him." 
 
28o UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 "All right, I'd like nothing better, since I can't see 
 you any longer. Where's the principal man for this 
 occasion, anyhow? Can he take the time to be 
 married, or is he liable to send up word he's detained? 
 You can't put your finger on these popular surgeons 
 till they're here." 
 
 "I had a telephone message from him an hour ago," 
 Georgiana assured him, with a conscious little smile. 
 "I really think he'll be here, though not till the last 
 minute, probably." 
 
 "If he isn't I'll go after him with a gun. If he 
 doesn't show up I'd marry you myself if it wasn't 
 for a previous engagement," dared Stuart, with a 
 happy laugh. 
 
 "Never! If I couldn't have my man I'd never 
 marry anybody," she whispered, as she turned to 
 look back at him for an instant, her hand on the 
 library door. 
 
 Stuart caught the hand, and whispered back: 
 "George, is it like that with you, too ? " She nodded. 
 His face flamed. "It's wonderful, isn't it? Unbe- 
 lievable!" 
 
 She nodded again. They looked into each other's 
 faces, smiling through a mist of happiness, then 
 Georgiana flung open the door and ran out into the 
 hall. 
 
 Stuart followed, caught up the big box and ran 
 after her up the stairs. "Here," he said under his 
 
MAGIC GOLD 281 
 
 breath, as they reached the top, "be sure to open 
 this before you go. Jean wanted you to wear it 
 away with you; she said you'd be sure to need it, 
 traveling. It's a beauty; it just came home for 
 her." 
 
 He gave her the big box at the door of her room, 
 while she pointed him down the hall to her father's 
 door. He patted her arm with a brotherly gesture, 
 and hurried along. 
 
 Inside her room, with a glance at the clock, she 
 opened the box. Under the tissue lay a soft, luxuri- 
 ous-feeling mass, all dark blue cloth of a velvety 
 texture, with glimpses of dark fur. She opened it, 
 with a sigh of pleasure, for it meant that now she 
 might look fit to be Dr. Jefferson Craig's traveling 
 companion, with this cloak, fur-lined, all-enveloping, 
 to slip on over the plain little suit which was not half 
 warm enough for severe winter weather. 
 
 "It's the last of my * Semi-Annuals,'" she said to 
 herself, "and the best. How dear of her! And oh, 
 how good it is that Jimps is here! Now I have a 
 family, a real family to see me married — a father 
 and a brother!" 
 
 The clock again — ^warning her to fly. She had 
 ever been rapid at dressing — she had never been 
 quicker. A cold plunge — the second that morning, 
 bringing the blood leaping — the donning of fair 
 garments lying ready to her hand — the arrangement 
 
282 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 of hair in the old way, simplicity itself — ^then the 
 slipping over her white shoulders of the blue silk 
 gown. When it was fastened Georgiana went to 
 stand by her window, looking out with eyes which 
 did not see. 
 
CHAPTER XXV 
 
 GREAT MUSIC 
 
 WULL ye be comin' soon, Miss Warne?" said 
 the voice of Mrs. MacFayden at her door. 
 Georgiana opened it quickly, and the housekeeper 
 entered, quietly resplendent in black silk with fine 
 lace collar and cuffs, her hair in shining order, an ex- 
 pression of great solemnity on her face. 
 
 "Mr. and Mrs. Peter Brandt are here," she an- 
 nounced with impressiveness. "Doctor Craig is 
 doonstairs with them; he cam' ten minutes ago. He 
 bade me say he wad coom for ye himself when ye 
 were ready. It's a gled day for him. Miss Warne, 
 an' for us a'." 
 
 Georgiana advanced, her heart very warm toward 
 this good woman, who, as she well knew, was quite 
 as much the friend of Jefferson Craig as his house- 
 keeper, and well esteemed, even beloved by him. 
 The girl came close. 
 
 "Mrs. MacFayden," she said, very low, "I have — 
 no mother to kiss me before I go down. May 
 I " 
 
 The sentence was left unfinished, for with one 
 
 a8? 
 
284 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 step forward Mary MacFayden opened wide her 
 arms, and for a long minute the two enfolded each 
 other, while both hearts beat strongly. 
 
 Then Georgiana, suddenly mindful that she must 
 not let go for an instant of her self-control, pressed 
 a kiss upon the fair, smooth cheek of the Scotswoman, 
 received one equally warm upon her own, and drew 
 away smiling. "Thank you," she murmured un- 
 certainly. "I couldn't go without it." 
 
 "Thet ye could na', lassie," responded Mrs. 
 MacFayden heartily. "Noo — ^wull I send the doctor 
 up?" 
 
 "Just in a minute — ^when I have seen my 
 father " 
 
 Georgiana ran into his room from her own. A 
 deep embrace, a lingering kiss — ^while James Stuart 
 looked out of the window, a lump suddenly appearing 
 from nowhere in his sturdy throat. 
 
 Then Georgiana said softly at the young man's 
 elbow: "Thank you again for coming, Jimps. 
 It's such a comfort to have my brother here." 
 
 Before he could reply she was gone again. 
 
 He led Mr. Warne downstairs, where Doctor 
 Craig presented them both to the Brandts — delightful 
 people Stuart thought them, too — so simple and un- 
 affected — almost like village people. 
 
 As he stood waiting with them, in the same digni- 
 fied big room which he had been in before he went 
 
GREAT MUSIC 285 
 
 upstairs, he was conscious that in his brief absence 
 its character had changed. Library though it still 
 was, with its massive bookcases filled with rows upon 
 rows of finely bound books, it had taken on a festal 
 air. Great bowls of roses, deep crimson, glowing 
 pink, rich amber, had been brought in; they stood 
 on table, chimney-piece, and floor; hundreds of them 
 it seemed to him there must be. He realized that 
 Georgiana herself could not have seen them; they 
 would be a surprise to her. Evidently the simple 
 little wedding was to have a character all its own. 
 
 With the quiet departure of Jefferson Craig fromthe 
 room James Stuart was all eyes for an appearance at the 
 door. How would Georgiana come to her marriage? 
 In shimmering white, he supposed, for that was the 
 traditional garb of all the brides he had ever seen — ■ 
 mostly village girls they were. Once, while at col- 
 lege, he had attended a city wedding, that of a class- 
 mate who had not been willing to wait till his college 
 course was finished. Stuart remembered how pale 
 the bride had been; she had looked as if she were 
 going to faint. He hoped Georgiana would not 
 look like that: he could not conceive it. 
 
 The next moment he saw her, entering the wide 
 door, on Doctor Craig's arm — ^the same Georgiana he 
 had always known, as simply dressed, even more 
 simply, he thought, though he had little time for look- 
 ing at her dress, so held was his gaze by her face. 
 
286 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 Never could he have conceived so radiant a bride. 
 And then he thought — ^Jefferson Craig had gone up 
 alone to bring her down. Stuart wondered if he him- 
 self could make Jeannette look like that, at such a mo- 
 ment. He thought he could ! 
 
 Georgiana looked into Father Davy's eyes as she 
 stood before him. He was not tall; his face was 
 almost on a level with her own. It seemed to her 
 she had never seen eyes so clear, so blue, so compre- 
 hending. Her own never left them for a moment 
 while the service lasted, until the closing prayer. 
 
 Father Davy's voice, at first very slightly trem- 
 ulous, gathered force as he went on with the words he 
 had spoken so many times, but never as he was speak- 
 ing them now — to his child, to Phoebe's child, and 
 to the man of her choice. A little flush crept into his 
 thin cheeks. More than once his eyes rested on the 
 dark-blue silk which covered his daughter's shoulders; 
 the sight of it seemed to give him strength. 
 
 When the service ended, and his voice sank into 
 the words of prayer, the hand of Mr. Peter Brandt 
 went for a moment to his eyes; Mrs. MacFayden felt 
 suddenly for her handkerchief; James Stuart softly 
 cleared his throat, winking once or twice rathei 
 rapidly. Never had any of them heard just such a 
 prayer as that. It was as if he who made it were 
 very near the invisible Presence whom he so tenderly 
 and trustingly addressed 
 
GREAT MUSIC 287 
 
 Stuart never forgot the moment when he looked 
 for the first time into the eyes of Jefferson Craig's 
 newly made wife. For one instant he suffered a 
 pang of jealousy — a queer, irrational feeHng. It 
 was as if he had lost his friend, as if this star-eyed 
 creature before him could never find room for him 
 again in her full heart. But he knew better in the 
 next breath, for she lifted her face, ever so little, and 
 with a sense of deep relief he gave her the brotherly 
 kiss she thus permitted. When he looked at Jeffer- 
 son Craig he found that, the keen, fine eyes were 
 regarding him with a very friendly intentness, and 
 he wrung the hand offered him as he would have 
 wrung the hand of a brother. 
 
 "You're the luckiest man in this whole big town," 
 declared Stuart. His lips had been dumb before 
 Georgiana, but now he turned to her again. "George, 
 there's no use trying to tell you how I feel about this. 
 All I can say is that nothing's too good for you — or 
 for him. That's pretty lame, but — ^whatever elo- 
 quence I'm capable of is tied up somewhere; I can't 
 get it out." 
 
 "It's out, Jimps, dear," she assured him. "Isn't 
 it — ^Jefferson ? " 
 
 "It certainly is — ^Jimps," Craig answered heartily. 
 "It was for just that genuine feeHng that I sent for 
 you. I knew we couldn't spare it." 
 
 Stuart watched the pair eagerly during the next 
 
288 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 hour — ^the hour during which the little party sat at 
 the wedding breakfast which followed. The table 
 was a round one, and his place was next the bride, so 
 he missed nothing. He had never been present on 
 such an occasion, nor could have guessed the beauty 
 and charm of the setting wealth and art can give. 
 It was perfection itself, arranged by whose hand 
 he had no notion, but he understood well enough 
 by whose order had been created all the simple 
 elegance which so well suited the house and the 
 people. And as he looked at Georgiana he said to 
 himself: 
 
 "She fits into this as if she had been bom to it. 
 She was born to it, for it's just the kind of thing she'd 
 have made for herself if she'd had the means. No 
 show, no fuss, just niceness! And it's the sort of 
 thing my wife shall have, somehow, even in the coun- 
 try, before long. We'll bring this there; she'll know 
 how. There's no patent on it. Bless her — how 
 George deserves this! If only Jean could have been 
 here. But I'll tell her; I'll get it over to her. And 
 she'll understand!" 
 
 At the end of the hour the car was at the door, and 
 Georgiana was coming down the stairs in her travel- 
 ing clothes, her bridal bouquet on her arm. How 
 those splendid roses had lighted up the little dark- 
 blue frock! 
 
 "I've no bridesmaid to throw it to," she said, ex- 
 
GREAT MUSIC 289 
 
 tending it toward Stuart. "Will you take it to 
 Jeannette ? " 
 
 **I should say I will. I'll be with her this evening; 
 she made me promise." And Stuart received the 
 offering with a glad hand. 
 
 A long, silent clinging to her father was the only 
 parting embrace for this girl. If James Stuart longed 
 for one of his own, after these years of friendship, 
 he was obliged to be content with the lustrous look 
 he had from eyes lifted for a moment to his as Georgi- 
 ana took her place in the car, and with the lingering 
 pressure her hand gave his, which spoke of love and 
 loyalty. 
 
 Then she was gone, with Jefferson Craig sending 
 back at Stuart a special brilliant smile of gratitude 
 for the office he had performed, that of taking the 
 place of the whole group of young people usually 
 present on such occasions, saying good-bye with 
 bared head and face of ardent devotion, with the 
 first light snowflakes of winter falling on his fair hair. 
 
 "I can't believe I'm quite awake," said Georgiana, 
 by and by. She sat in one of the drawing-rooms of 
 a fast train, the door closed, the curtains drawn be- 
 tween herself and the rest of the earful of passengers, 
 and only the flying landscape beyond the window to 
 tell of the world outside. 
 
 Craig sat watching her; he seemed able to do 
 nothing else. In his face was the most joyous 
 
290 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 content; there seemed almost a light behind it. 
 "Not awake?" was his amused comment. "I 
 wonder why. Now I feel tremendously awake — 
 after a long, uneasy sleep, in which I dreamed of 
 losing what I most wanted." 
 
 "But it's not all strange to you as it is to me. I 
 can't quite believe that there's nothing on my 
 shoulders — no care, no anxiety, just — ^well, your 
 shoulders! Oh, but," she went on hastily, "don't 
 think that means I want you to carry everything for 
 me; indeed I don't. I want to carry — half!" 
 
 '"Ah, but that's it," he answered. "My shoulders 
 for your burdens, yours for mine. That way neither 
 of us will feel half the weight of either. I'm not 
 pretending that I shall give you a life of wholly 
 sheltered ease; it won't be that, and you don't want 
 it, not in this burden-bearing world. But — you shall 
 have some things that you have been denied, my 
 brave girl! Georgiana, I can't tell you how it 
 touched me — the dress yoQ made to be married in." ' 
 
 Her eyes went down now before the look in his. 
 
 " I'll tell you fairly that I longed with all my heart 
 to take you to some place worthy of your beauty and 
 find a wedding gown for you — not necessarily a very 
 costly one, but one that should bring out all you are 
 capable of showing. But when I saw you, looking 
 just yourself, in the silk that was like your mother's," 
 — he leaned forward, taking both her hands in his 
 
GREAT MUSIC 291 
 
 and looking straight into her face, compelling her gaze 
 to lift to his lest she should miss what she knew was 
 there, — "I felt something inside my heart break wide 
 open — ^with worship for you, little, strong, splendid 
 spirit that you are ! " 
 
 He pressed the hands against his lips. Then he 
 touched two rings upon her left hand: exquisite and 
 rare jewels were set in both engagement and wedding 
 rings, after the modern fashion. But there was a 
 third ring there, guarding the others, a slender band 
 of gold, worn thin by many years of hard, self-forget- 
 ting work — ^the ring which David Warne had placed 
 twenty-seven years ago upon the hand of his bride. 
 Jefferson Craig studied all three, turning them round 
 and round upon the rosy finger they encircled. 
 
 Presently he spoke again, very gently: "My rings 
 on your hand mean to me love and beauty, loyalty 
 and truth. But her ring stands for all that and — 
 service. We need it there, to remind us what we owe 
 the world we live in. She paid her debt; we'll pay 
 ours, in memory of her. Bless her for giving me her 
 daughter!" 
 
 For a minute Georgiana could not speak. Then, 
 with her dark eyes sparkling through the mist of 
 tears which had taken her unawares, she seized his 
 hand and lifted it to press her glowing cheek against 
 it, saying passionately: "Oh, how you understand!" 
 
 They were silent for a long time after that, while 
 
292 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY ' 
 
 the train flew on, through the gathering darkness of 
 the late December afternoon, into the night. . . . 
 
 Georgiana had supposed that they were to go at once 
 to the old home, for she knew that Craig could not 
 be long away at this time, and there was much to 
 do there. But she found that instead of changing 
 trains in the great city, sixty miles beyond which lay 
 the home village, they were leaving the station to be 
 conveyed in a waiting car to a hotel. 
 
 "If you had been spending all these years in 
 cities," was Craig's explanation, "I should have felt 
 like plunging at once with you into the solitude. But 
 as it is — ^well, I wondered if we shouldn't like to hear 
 some great music to-night. Do you feel as I do — 
 that there are times when nothing but music can 
 speak for you ? " 
 
 "But you," she said, "who live in the rush all the 
 time " 
 
 "There's no rush here for me," he answered. 
 "Nobody is likely to know me here; I can forget the 
 whole world in the midst of the crowd with you to- 
 night. As for the music — I've been on short rations 
 a good while myself. I think we can feast together, 
 don't you?" 
 
 It was all a fairy tale to Georgiana, that evening in 
 the city. Her college days had been spent in a small 
 college town which, though it had lain not many miles 
 away from this same great metropolis, had seldom 
 
GREAT MUSIC 293 
 
 seen her leave it for the privileges which richer girls 
 enjoyed at every week-end. 
 
 As for the superb hotel to which Craig took her, 
 although she had seen its impressive front, she had 
 never so much as stood within its stately lobby. 
 Now she experienced all sorts of queer little thrills, 
 as she watched the accustomed ease with which her 
 husband led her through the brief details of arrival 
 and noted with what deference he was received. 
 Evidently he had been expected, for there was no 
 delay in the smooth service which took them to an 
 apartment reserved by wire, as Georgiana gathered 
 from a word she overheard. 
 
 He was quite right; a touch of this was what she 
 needed, as a bird long confined needs a chance to 
 stretch its wings. To this girl, with vivid life stirring 
 in her pulses, the unaccustomed experience could but 
 be a delight, with such a companion to show her the 
 way. Every detail had its own fascination, such as 
 might never come again when she should be more 
 wonted to such scenes. The dinner served in their 
 own small drawing-room, the flowers which crowned 
 the table, the blithe talk Craig made during the 
 little feast, with all its pretty, ceremonious detail of 
 service; finally the short drive to the place where the 
 great music, as Craig had called it, was to be heard 
 — it all made a richly enchanting picture in Georgi- 
 ana's mind. 
 
294 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 When at length she sat beside her husband in 
 the immense, silent audience, listening to such splen- 
 did harmonies as only once or twice in her lifetime 
 she had heard before, her heart was far too full for 
 words. He did not ask them of her, understanding 
 something of what was passing in her mind, though- 
 not even his more than ordinary powers of sympathy 
 could have guessed at all that held her breathless 
 through those hours of supreme delight. 
 
 Certain words of a Psalm, which she had often 
 heard her father quote, came into her mind and re- 
 peated themselves over and over. She had smiled 
 with a bitter irony sometimes when she had heard 
 him speak them in a tone of utter thankfulness, while 
 she had been quite unable to imagine how he could 
 use them of himself. But now — now — surely they ap- 
 plied to her! 
 
 Along with the sweep of the conductor's baton, 
 with the rise and surge of one of the greatest of the 
 symphonies, ran the triumphant words of the singer 
 of old time: " Thou hast set my feet in a large room." 
 
 Surely it was a large room into which, from a 
 cramped and restricted one, she had emerged. She 
 would do small honour to the devout life which had so 
 long been lived beside her if she should fail to give the 
 praise to the Maker of all life, who, according to her 
 father's firm belief, had known from the beginning 
 all for which He had been so wisely fitting her. 
 
CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 SALT WATER 
 
 IT WAS the tenth day of April. A great ship was 
 making ready to sail; she lay like some inert 
 monster at her pier, while all about her, within and 
 without, was apparent commotion yet really ordered 
 haste, the customary scene of bustling activity. 
 
 Few passengers had yet arrived, for the time of 
 sailing was still some hours away. One party of 
 three, however, had just driven down to the very 
 gangway, allowed by some special privilege a closer 
 approach than most at this hour. The reason was 
 apparent when the party alighted, for one of its 
 number was clearly an invalid, a frail-looking man 
 with curly gray hair, who leaned upon the arm of a 
 much younger man with a keen, distinguished face. 
 The third person was a young woman, the sort of 
 young woman who looks as if no buffeting wind 
 could blow her away, because she would be sure to 
 face it with delight, her eager face only glowing the 
 brighter for the conflict. 
 
 "This is the advantage of coming early, isn't it?" 
 said Mrs. Jefferson Craig, with a look of congratula- 
 
 295 
 
296 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 tion at her husband. "It's not much as it was when 
 we saw Mr. and Mrs. Brandt off last week. You can 
 walk on board as slowly as you please, Father Davy; 
 there's no one to push." 
 
 Mr. David Wame was drawing deep breaths of the 
 salty air, with its peculiar mixture of odours. He was 
 also gazing about him with delighted eyes, seeming in 
 no haste to cross the gangway. 
 
 "When I was a boy," he said to his daughter, who 
 remained close at his side, "I lived, as you know, in 
 a seaport town. Ever since I came away, it seems to 
 me, I have been longing to smell that salty, marshy, 
 briny smell again. It takes me back — how it takes 
 me back!" 
 
 "The voyage is going to do you worlds of good," 
 exulted Georgiana, her eyes bright with hope. "Jef- 
 ferson was quite right: the winter at home, to help 
 the poor spine; now the sea air, and the complete 
 change, to make you strong. We'll have you march- 
 ing back and forth with the other learned men, under 
 the lindens at Trinity, while we are in Oxford — ^hands 
 clasped behind your back, impressive nose in air — ■ 
 the very picture of a gentleman and a scholar." 
 
 "As if there were anjrthing of the scholar about 
 me," murmured Mr. Warne, smiling at this picture 
 of his undistinguished self. "Well, my children, 1 
 suppose you are ready to go on, and I imagine we 
 are not wanted in the way here. Let us proceed 
 
SALT WATER 297 
 
 across that little bridge, and then we can look back at 
 all this interesting activity." 
 
 Half an hour later, having taken possession of 
 their staterooms, the party returned to the deck, 
 where Georgiana and her husband established Mr. 
 Wame in his chair, well tucked up in rugs — ^for the 
 April air though balmy was treacherous. They then 
 fell to pacing up and down, according to the irre- 
 sistible tendency of the human foot the moment that 
 it treads the deck. 
 
 "He seems deliciously happy, doesn't he?" said 
 Georgiana's voice in her husband's ear. " If he were 
 twenty-six instead of fifty-six he couldn't enter into 
 it all with more zest. Hpw pleased he was with Mrs. 
 Brandt's flowers, and how dear it was of her to send 
 them to him!" 
 
 "However happy he may be," declared Jefferson 
 Craig, "it's not within the bounds of possibility that 
 he is so happy as we!" 
 
 "Oh, of course not?" agreed Georgiana to this de- 
 cidedly boyish speech. She realized suddenly how 
 quickly the sense of relaxation from care was begin- 
 ning to show in her husband. Her hand within his 
 arm gave it a warm little squeeze. "That couldn't 
 be expected. To be torn apart, at any and all hours, 
 and kept apart day after day, just when we most 
 want to be together— ^and then to come down to a big 
 ship and know that no telephone bell can ring, no- 
 
298 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 body can make a single demand upon us that can 
 prevent our being by ourselves — ^well, words simply 
 can't express how wonderful it seems ! " 
 
 "It is wonderful, and we'll make the most of it. 
 There's just one thing I want to get out of this 
 vacation in the way of work, and then all the rest of 
 it shall be at your service." 
 
 "The book?" 
 
 "The book. How did you guess? I haven't 
 spoken of it." 
 
 "No, but I've seen you looking wistfully at your 
 notebook time and again, and guessed what you were 
 thinking of. Well, we can make it fly. I'm ready 
 for you." 
 
 Georgiana plunged her hand into a small bag she 
 carried on her arm, and brought forth a notebook — 
 of her own. She produced a pencil. "You may as 
 well begin to dictate now," she said demurely. 
 "What's the use of losing time? Just don't go too 
 fast, that's all." 
 
 He stared at her. "What do you mean, dear? 
 You don't know shorthand." 
 
 "Don't I? Well, perhaps I can write fast enough 
 In long hand. Try me." 
 
 "My idea is," he said, "that we might spend a 
 couple of hours every morning, and another couple 
 in the afternoon, if you don't mind, and really get 
 ahead quite a bit while we are at sea — provided you 
 
SALT WATER 299 
 
 prove a good sailor, which I have an idea you will 
 
 if See here, what are you doing? You're not 
 
 taking that down in signs!" He looked over her 
 shoulder at the notebook, where a series of dashes, 
 angles, hooks and dots was forming with great rapids 
 ity. "You don't mean to say " 
 
 "No, I mean to write, and let you do the saying. 
 Go ahead, sir — only be sure you say something worth 
 while." 
 
 "But — you didn't have that accomplishment 
 when we worked together last summer." 
 
 "How I did wish I had, though! You kept insist- 
 ing that I was doing all I could for you by copying 
 endlessly, but I knew perfectly well that if I were a 
 stenographer you could accomplish just three times 
 as much in a given time as you did. You know per- 
 fectly well you only took that course to give a poor 
 girl the chance to earn. If it hadn't been for helping 
 me you would have had a secretary at your elbow, 
 after you got to the point of needing him." 
 
 "I took that course, as you well know, because I 
 wanted you at my elbow. If you had been able to 
 write only a word a minute, I should have wanted you 
 there just the same." 
 
 She gave him a merry, understanding look, then 
 read him the words he had just spoken from he^ 
 book. 
 
 "Where in the world did you learn, and how?" he 
 
300 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 demanded. "And how have you become so pro* 
 ficient in so short a time?" 
 
 "Fm afraid it's rather blundering work yet, but it 
 will grow better all the time. Why, I've been taking 
 lessons all winter, dear sir, at the best shorthand 
 school in the city. I made up my mind that it was 
 the thing I could do that would be of most use to you. 
 It's a shame that a man who is doing the original work 
 that you are shouldn't have time to give other people 
 more benefit of it. It seemed to me you could write 
 an important monograph in an hour, if you just had 
 me at hand to take down the words of wisdom as 
 they fell from your learned lips. Why you haven't 
 used a secretary before for this purpose I don't know, 
 but I certainly am glad you haven't. It insures me 
 the position." 
 
 If she had wanted a reward for long and severe 
 labours she had it in his look. "Other men dictate 
 such papers," he said, "but somehow it has never 
 seemed to me I could. I tried it once or twice and 
 didn't get on at all as I did when I had the pen in my 
 fingers. But with you, it may be different." 
 
 "It will be different," she told him confidently. 
 "You're going to become used to my being so much 
 a part of you that you can think as if you were using 
 my brains — or I were using yours, which would be 
 more to the purpose, I admit. Oh, we're going to 
 accomplish all sorts of things together." 
 
SALT WATER 301 
 
 He looked down into her eager face, glowing with 
 colour, the dark eyes apparently seeing visions which 
 gave them keen delight. "You are a partner worth 
 having," he said, much moved. "I knew you would 
 be, and it's seemed to me all winter that no wife 
 could be more of one. But if you're going to add 
 this to your other activities you will make yourself 
 even more indispensable than you already are, which 
 is saying much." 
 
 She could hardly wait until she had made a trial of 
 this new form of partnership. The ship had barely 
 turned her face out to sea, parting company with her 
 pilot, before the work began. 
 
 Doctor Craig had secured a small suite of state- 
 rooms opening upon a central sitting-room, and here 
 he and Georgiana could be sure of much time to 
 themselves. While the pair were engaged Mr. 
 Wame was supremely content to lie in a sheltered 
 comer of the deck, book in hand, reading or watch- 
 ing the ever new glory of sea and sky, or talking with 
 some fellow passenger who possessed intelligence 
 enough to discover what manner of man was here. 
 
 When Georgiana, ardent as a child in her joy over 
 what was to be revealed, unpacked a small, portable 
 typewriter and set it upon the table of the sitting- 
 room, JdFerson Craig suddenly caught her in his 
 arms. 
 
 "My blessed girl," he cried, "this, too? What 
 
302 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 haven't you done with your winter, when I thought 
 you were spending your time getting acquainted with 
 New York, as I meant you to do? You and Mrs. 
 Brandt were supposed to be seeing everything worth 
 seeing, on those morning drives. Were you shut up 
 in your room all that time learning machines ? " 
 
 "No, indeed. Do you imagine I made up all the 
 stories I told you of those expeditions ? We did all 
 that, and this, too. I spent only an hour each morn- 
 ing at the school; the rest of the study I put in at all 
 hours. Many of them were when I was waiting /or 
 you. Doctor Craig, to take me to a dinner or the 
 opera. My notebook lived with me as if it had been 
 a treasure I couldn't have out of my sight. It was 
 just that. I never was so proud of anything I 
 learned at college as I was when the gruff man who 
 had my special training in charge told me I would 
 make a stenographer. Not all of them did, he said. 
 Some never could get hold of it, or acquire any speed 
 or accuracy. Just give me a year, and I'll put down 
 your thoughts before you think them!" 
 
 " I haven't a doubt of it," he agreed, with a laugh 
 of amusement and delight. 
 
 Thus the work began, and thus it proceeded, with 
 only one day's interruption when, in mid-ocean, came 
 twenty-four hours of moderately bad weather. 
 
 To Georgiana's joy she proved herself the sailor her 
 husband had prophesied, but her father was not so 
 
SALT WATER 303 
 
 fortunate, and she promptly tucked him in his berth, 
 where she kept him fairly comfortable until the rough 
 seas quieted. When he was recovered he lay for one 
 morning on the couch in the sitting-room, while the 
 two workers resumed their task. Here he seemed to 
 slumber much of the time, but in reality he kept 
 rather a close watch on the absorbed pair, whom he 
 had never before seen thus engaged, much as he had 
 heard of their labours. 
 
 Looking up suddenly Georgiana discovered the 
 blue eyes upon her, and when her flying fingers next 
 stopped she put a question: "A penny for your 
 thoughts. Father Davy. Don't we work together 
 rather well, in spite of my being such a novice ? " 
 
 "You two pull excellently well in double harness, 
 it seems to me," he responded. "I can't see that 
 either is taking all the load while the other soldiers 
 and lets the traces slack." 
 
 Doctor Craig looked around at him. "She's 
 always ahead by a pair of ears at least," he declared 
 with a laugh. 
 
 " But I hear his steady pound — pound — at my side, 
 and I'm afraid he's going to get a shoulder ahead," his 
 wife explained. 
 
 The interest the pair excited on shipboard was 
 greater than Georgiana guessed, though Doctor Craig 
 was quite aware of it. Somehow or other the word 
 had gone around, as words do go in a ship's com- 
 
304 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY I 
 
 pany, as to the literary labours they were engaged 
 in, and as Jefferson Craig's name was one known to 
 more people than Georgiana had the slightest notion 
 of, there was cause enough for the attention given 
 them. Craig's noteworthy personality — one which 
 marked him anjrwhere as a man of intellect and ac- 
 tion — Georgiana's fresh young beauty, her spontane- 
 ous low laughter as she paced the deck at her 
 husband's side, her readiness to make friends with 
 those w^ose looks and bearing attracted her — these 
 attributes made the Craigs the target for all eyes, 
 
 "I never saw people who looked so absolutely 
 content," fretfully murmured one swathed mummy 
 in a deck chair to another, as the pair passed them, 
 on the tenth round of a long tramp, one gray morn- 
 ing when the wind was more than ordinarily chill. 
 The speaker's black eyes, heavily lidded in a pale^ 
 discontented face, followed the Craigs out of sight as 
 she spoke. 
 
 "Oh, they're on their honeymoon — that accounts 
 for it," replied the other, languidly. Her glance 
 also had followed the walkers. 
 
 "No, they're not — I've told you that before. 
 They were married last December — plenty of time 
 for the glamour to wear off. They act as if they 
 never expected it to wear off. Sue Burlison must hate 
 to look at them — she certainly had her mind made 
 up to marry Jefferson Craig, if it could be done." 
 
SALT WATER 305 
 
 "So did Ursula Brandywine," contributed the 
 languid one. 
 
 "You could say that of a dozen — twenty. I pre- 
 sume there are at least four disappointed mothers on 
 board, besides Jane Burlison. Not that any of them 
 ever had much encouragement from him — I'll say 
 that for him. They'd about given him up as hope- 
 less when he went off and married this country girl. 
 One thing is certain — in spite of her fine clothes she 
 hasn't the air his wife ought to have — she's not his 
 equal." 
 
 "What's that you say?" The questioner was a 
 sallow-faced youth upon the black-eyed lady's other 
 side. Sunk deep in a fur-lined coat, his cap pulled 
 low over his eyes — ^which were precisely like hers, 
 2ven to the expression of discontent — he had seemed 
 for the last hour to be slumbering. But at the mo- 
 ment he looked quite wide awake, as he turned his 
 head toward his mother and challenged her latest 
 statement. "What's that you say?" he repeated, 
 in her own acrimonious tone. 
 
 "Oh, have you come to at last?" she inquired. 
 "It is quite impossible to remember that though 
 you sleep for hours you are liable to wake in time to 
 contradict me on any point whatever. In this case 
 it is of no consequence what I may have said." 
 
 "You were handing us the hot dope about Mrs. 
 Craig's not being in the same class with Dr. Jeff. 
 
3o6 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 It certainly does take a woman to stick her claws 
 into another woman's fur. There's one thing I can 
 tell you — there isn't a man on board who'd agree 
 with you. If she's a country girl — you can say good- 
 bye for me to the little old town. I'm going to take 
 to rural life till I find another. Talk about peaches 
 and cream!" 
 
 "I believe I did not mention her complexion," 
 his mother observed coldly. 
 
 "Neither did your little son — though it would bear 
 mentioning. I should say yes ! You said she hadn't 
 any air. Jupiter — ^there she comes now. No air!" 
 
 He subsided into his high-turned fur collar but 
 his eyes watched intently as the Graigs, still walking 
 briskly after at least an hour's exercise, came up the 
 deck from the stern. His mother, on the contrary, 
 let her drooping lids fall indifferently. The moment 
 they were out of possible hearing the young man 
 sat up. 
 
 " By Jove, if you call that no air, tell the grande 
 dames to get a move on. She walks like a young 
 goddess — ^that's what." 
 
 "Silly boy! Nobody is talking of her face or her 
 gait. If you don't know what I mean, no one can 
 tell you." 
 
 "Oh, I know what you mean," her son assured her. 
 "I get you. What I say is — you don't get her! 
 Jefferson Craig's the one who gets her — ^lucky chap! 
 
SALT WATER 307 
 
 Maybe he doesn't know it — oh, no! Maybe not!" 
 And turning his back he once more appeared to 
 slumber. 
 
 It was fortunate for Georgiana that she never even 
 imagined such comments, though she passed these 
 rows of critical eyes a hundred times a day, sat at 
 table with people who were keenly observant of her 
 every act and word, and spent some reluctant hours 
 in the society of those who strove to cultivate her 
 for their own blase enjoyment. She only knew that 
 among the company she met a number of interesting 
 men and women, wth whom she and her husband 
 were thoroughly congenial, and that it did not matter 
 in the least about the rest. If those whom she liked 
 so much, and with whom she could talk with the 
 greatest zest, turned out to be the men and women 
 of scientific or literary achievement, this seemed only 
 natural to the college-bred girl, and she cared not at 
 all that she did not get on so easily with those whose 
 distinction lay in purely social or financial lines. 
 
 During the winter just past her experience had 
 been much the same, in a larger way. Her hus- 
 band's acquaintance was naturally a large one, but 
 the circle of his real friends was bound almost wholly 
 by these same congenialities of mind and tastes. 
 Georgiana had met and been entertained by many 
 people whose names stood high on the list of the 
 distinguished, though their personal fortunes were 
 
308 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 small, and their social activities were ignored in the 
 society columns of the Sunday press. A college 
 president, several famous surgeons, not a few noted 
 authors of scientific books, as well as certain social 
 workers, and two or three clergymen — these, with 
 their wives and families, were the sort of people wh» 
 gave to Georgiana Craig a hearty and sincere wel- 
 come, recognizing her at once as one who belonged 
 to them. It was small wonder that the young wife, 
 trained in a school of life in which nothing counted 
 except worth and ability, found no lack, nor thought 
 of sighing for the privilege her husband could easily 
 have given her, had he cared for it himself, of min- 
 gling with a quite different class, that of the rich and 
 gay who cared for little except that which could give 
 them the most powerfully emotional reactions in the 
 way of diversion, acquisition, or notoriety. 
 
 So they continued to work and walk their joyously 
 contented way across the wide Atlantic during the 
 six days between port and port. Georgiana enjoyed 
 every hour, from that early morning one in which she 
 first came on deck, running up with her husband to 
 breathe deeply of the stimulating sea breeze before 
 breakfasting, to the latest one, when, furry coat 
 drawn hurriedly on over her pretty evening frock, 
 her dark hair lightly confined under a gauzy scarf, 
 she with Craig and a merry half-dozen of the eve- 
 ning's group came up again upon a deserted deck, to 
 
SALT WATER 309 
 
 "blow the society fog out of their lungs," as one 
 young biologist of coming reputation put it, in the 
 silvery April moonlight, with only a few similarly in- 
 clined spirits to share with them the big empty spaces. 
 
 "I shall really be sorry to land to-morrow," sighed 
 Georgiana, leaning upon the rail on the last night of 
 the voyage, and staring ahead toward the quarter 
 where her husband had just indicated they would be 
 seeing land when they came up in the morning. "It 
 has been so perfect, this being off between the sea 
 and the sky together. When shall I ever forget this 
 first voyage? It's a dream come true." 
 
 "You will enjoy the second one just as much, for 
 you're a bom sailor, and there'll be a long succession 
 of voyages for you to look back upon by and by. 
 Not just my annual pilgrimages to foreign clinics, 
 but journeys to the ends of the earth if you like. 
 Will that suit you, eager-eyed one ? " 
 
 "Suit me? Oh, wonderful to think of! Am I 
 eager-eyed really? I try so hard to cultivate that 
 beautiful calm of manner I admire so much in other 
 people. Haven't I acquired a bit of it yet ? " 
 
 "A beautiful calm of manner — all that could be 
 (desired. But your eyes still suggest that you're 
 standing on tiptoe, with your face lighted by the 
 dawn," Craig answered contentedly. "Heaven for- 
 bid you ever lose that look! It's what gives the zest 
 to my life." 
 
CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 "cakes and ices' 
 
 JEFFERSON CRAIG found plenty of the zest 
 which he had told Georgiana — that last evening 
 on shipboard — her eager-eyed look added to his life, 
 when, the next day, in a compartment reserved for 
 the three travelers, he watched her as she fairly hung 
 out of the windows. All through Devonshire and 
 on to the northeast. She was drinking in the fair 
 and ordered beauty of the English countryside in 
 April, exclaiming over apple orchards rosy as sea- 
 shells with bloom, over vine-clad cottages and hedge- 
 bordered lanes, masses of wall flowers at each 
 trim station, and such green fields as she had never 
 seen in her life. Father Davy was not far behind 
 her in his quiet enjoyment of the unaccustomed 
 scenes. 
 
 A night at Bath, picturesque and interesting, and 
 then before the eldest of the three travelers could be 
 really weary they were in famous Oxford. Pro» 
 fessor Pembroke and his wife, Allison Craig, me$ 
 them at the station, to convoy them to the comfort- 
 able quarters in the dignified stone house nee* 
 
 310 
 
"CAKES AND ICES" 311 
 
 Magdalen College, which Craig had more than once 
 described to Georgiana. 
 
 Here the young American had her first taste of a 
 manner of life which enchanted her. From the 
 moment that she set eyes on Jefferson Craig's 
 sister, the original of the photograph she had so 
 often studied with a constriction of the heart, not 
 knowing whose it was, she was drawn to her as she 
 had never been drawn to any other woman. 
 
 Sitting with her in the pleasant, chintz-hung living- 
 room, walking with her in the garden which was like 
 no garden she had ever imagined, she was conscious 
 of a stronger sense of wonder than ever that a man 
 whose family was represented by a sister like this 
 could ever have chosen the crude young person she 
 still considered herself. From Mrs. Pembroke, how- 
 ever, she received only heart-warming assurance of 
 her welcome and her fitness. 
 
 "My dear," Allison said, as the two stood at an 
 ivy-framed window one morning, looking out at 
 Mr. Wame and his son-in-law as they slowly paced 
 up and down beneath a row of copper beeches be- 
 tween house and garden, "I never saw my brother so 
 happy in his life. Jeff always was hard to please as 
 a boy. I used to think it was merely a critical 
 disposition, but later I discovered that it was his 
 extreme distaste for all artifice, acting, intrigue — 
 all absence of genuineness. Only those boys and 
 
312 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 men interested him whom he had absolute faith 
 in. 
 
 "I don't mean that he himself was a goody-goody — 
 far from it; he was a terrible prank maker, and more 
 than once narrowly missed suffering serious conse- 
 quences. But when he really grew up and it came to 
 an acquaintance with women, very few have even 
 attracted him. I began to fear that he was becom- 
 ing hardened and would never find just what his 
 fastidious taste could approve — not to mention what 
 his heart might soften to. But now — well, I thinj^ I 
 am almost as happy as he is, that he has found you. 
 He seems like a different being to me, and evidently 
 it is you who have wrought the miracle." 
 
 "I surely have made no change in him," Georgi- 
 ana protested. "He has been just as he is now from 
 the beginning — except, of course, that I know him 
 better. I can't imagine him hardened to anything.'* 
 
 Allison Pembroke looked at her, smiling. She was 
 herself an unusually beautiful woman, more mature 
 than Georgiana, but still with a touch of girlishness 
 in her personality which made her very appealing 
 to her young guest. 
 
 "Evidently the softening process began the mo- 
 ment he met you," she said. "He frankly admits 
 that himself. I am going to tell you what he 
 wrote to me last winter, after you had begun yont 
 work with him. 'I feel like a footsore traveler,' he 
 
"CAKES AND ICES" 313 
 
 said, 'who has been walking for many miles along a 
 hot and crowded highway, with the dust heavy on 
 his shoulders and thick in his throat, who suddenly 
 finds his course turned aside through a deep and quiet 
 wood, with flowers springing on all sides, and a clear 
 stream running beside him, where he may bathe his 
 flushed face and cool his parched throat.* I have 
 never forgotten the words, because they struck me as 
 so unlike him. I knew then that something had hap- 
 pened to him there in the old manse. And when 
 I saw you, dear, I didn't wonder that he chose just 
 those words." 
 
 *'I should never have thought," murmured Georgi- 
 ana, incredulously, "that I could ever have reminded 
 anybody of a quiet wood — I with my hot rebellion 
 at having to spend my days in the country, which I 
 could never quite cover up." 
 
 "I know. Just the same, Georgiana, after having 
 known so many artificial women, posing, as women do 
 pose for a man in Jefferson's place, it refreshed his 
 very soul to find a girl like you, who dared to be her- 
 self from head to foot, whether she pleased him or 
 not. And oh, I am so thankful you could care for 
 him, since he needed you so much!" 
 
 Such talks brought these two very close together. 
 
 It was a happy week which Georgiana spent in the 
 fine, classic old town, walking or driving with Alli- 
 son, exploring quaint, winding streets, ancient halls. 
 
314 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 and flowery closes; or meeting interesting people of all 
 ranks, from the chancellor of the University himself 
 to the young undergraduates who offered her in their 
 old and dingy but distinguished rooms tea and 
 toasted scones, along with their fresh-cheeked ad- 
 miration. 
 
 Not the least of her pleasure was in watching 
 Father Davy's keen enjoyment of everything that 
 came his way, and in noting how many of these Eng- 
 lish people seemed to find him one of them in his 
 appreciation of all they had to offer and in his inti- 
 mate knowledge of their time-honoured history. He 
 apparently grew a little stronger with each succeeding 
 day; certainly he grew younger, for happiness is a 
 tonic which has special power upon those who carry 
 the burden of years; and Father Davy's years, while 
 not so many, had been heavy of weight upon his slen- 
 der shoulders and had bowed them before their time. 
 
 After Oxford came London — a fortnight of it, and 
 % very different experience. Living at a luxurious 
 betel with Allison Pembroke, who had come up with 
 them, to show her all the ways of which she felt her- 
 self ignorant; with Craig coming and going from 
 hospital and lecture room, suggesting each day new 
 Wonders; with hours spent daily in the dear delight 
 of exploration in all sorts of out-of-the-way, famous 
 places; Geor^ana felt as if it were all too miraculous 
 to be true. 
 
"CAKES AND ICES" 315 
 
 That she, "Georgie Warne," as the village people 
 had called her all her life, should, for instance, be 
 walking with charming Mrs. Pembroke along Picca- 
 dilly in the May sunshine — real London sunshine and 
 no watery imitation such as she had heard of — • 
 dressed in the most modish of spring costumes, 
 violets in her belt purchased on a street comer from 
 a young girl with the eyes of a Mrs. Patrick Camp- 
 bell and the accent of Battersea Park — ^well, it simply 
 did not seem real! 
 
 Much less did the hours seem real when she went 
 with her husband to take tea on the Terrace at the 
 Houses of Parliament, or with all three of her party 
 to dine with some friendly Londoner who appeared 
 eager to offer hospitality to the whole party. Best 
 of all, perhaps, were the late evening walks upon 
 which Craig took her alone, to stroll along the Vic- 
 toria Embankment, a place of which she never tired, 
 to watch the myriad lights upon the black river, and 
 to talk endlessly of all the pair could see before them 
 of purpose and achievement. 
 
 "Do you know what you remind me of these 
 days?" Craig asked one night, when the two had 
 returned to the hotel after one of these long, slow 
 walks, during which they had been unusually silent. 
 
 He threw himself into a deep armchair as he spoke 
 and sat looking up at his wife, who stood at the open 
 balcony window, gazing down at the street below. 
 
3i6 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 with the interest in everything human which seemed 
 never to abate. 
 
 She turned, smiling. She was particularly lovely to 
 look at to-night, wearing a little pale-gray, silk-and- 
 chifFon frock (lately purchased at a French shop in 
 London), which, in spite of its Parisian lines and 
 graces, was distinctly reminiscent of a certain other 
 gray-silk frock worn on a never-to-be-forgotten oc- 
 casion. 
 
 "Of a child at her first party?" she asked. "That's 
 what I feel like. Only there's no end to the cakes 
 and ices, the bonbons and surprises. And I never 
 have to worry because before long I must go home!" 
 
 "No, not like that; your similes are always too 
 self-deprecatory. You seem to me more and more 
 like a young queen who has just come to the throne, 
 but who is shy about picking up her sceptre. She 
 prefers long-stemmed roses, and every now and then 
 she catches up her train and runs down from her 
 dais and out-of-doors, until some shocked courtier 
 rushes after her and brings her back!" 
 
 "Now you are laughing at me!" Georgiana 
 wheeled to confront her husband, who, stretched 
 lazily in his chair, after a long day at the side of a 
 great biologist in his laboratory, was relaxing mus- 
 cles and nerves at the same time. 
 
 He put out one arm toward her, and she came 
 slowly to his side. "Not a bit. It just delights me 
 
"CAKES AND ICES" 317 
 
 to see you your natural self in spite of all that London 
 can do to you. Allison tells me that it is the most 
 interesting thing in the world to watch you decide 
 whether you will buy a new hat or a new book. She 
 declares that milliners admire you and seem anxious 
 to please you, but that when you get into a bookshop 
 you have every old bookseller climbing about his lad- 
 ders to bring down his choicest treasures for you." 
 
 Georgiana laughed. "I can't get used to buying 
 hats at all — ^not to mention silk stockings — and as 
 for buying hats and books and silk stockings on the 
 same day, it's simply past belief that I can do it. 
 Why do you fill my purse so full? I'm afraid I'm 
 losing all the benefit of my long training in frugality." 
 
 "I hope so. I can never forget last winter watch- 
 ing you dissemble your good healthy appetite and 
 pretend you didn't want beefsteak, while you fed your 
 father and me on a juicy tenderloin. Brave little 
 housekeeper on nothing a month ! " 
 
 She looked at him quickly. "I never dreamed you 
 noticed. And besides, I really didn't want " 
 
 "Take care! The table was the only place where I 
 ever caught you playing a part. I forgave you, only 
 — ^how I did long to divide with you! Now all the 
 rest of my life I can divide, equal shares, with you — 
 my Georgiana!" 
 
 The weeks flew by, bringing never-ending interest.' 
 After London came Edinburgh, city of stately beauty* 
 
3i8 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 where among Scottish friends of the Craigs Georgi- 
 ana learned whence her husband's family had sprung, 
 and their noble origin and history. 
 
 Then the vacation was at an end "for this time," 
 as Craig said, and the little party turned their faces 
 homeward. 
 
 A letter from James Stuart, in the same mail with 
 one twice its length from Jeannette Crofton, caused 
 them to hasten their date of sailing by a week in 
 order to be in time for a great event. Stuart wrote 
 characteristically : 
 
 You simply have to come home, George, and heip me 
 through it. Of course I knew from the first I'd have to 
 face a big city wedding, but the actual fact rather daunts 
 me. Of course it's all right, for we know Jean's mother 
 would never be satisfied to let me have her at all except 
 by way of the white-glove route. The white gloves don't 
 scare me so much as the orchids, and I suppose my new 
 tailor will turn me out a creditable figure. But if I can't 
 have you and Dr. Jeff Craig there I don't believe I can 
 stand the strain. 
 
 The worst of it is that after all that show I can only take 
 her back to the old farm. Not that she minds; in fact, she 
 seems to be crazy about that farm. But it certainly does 
 sound to me like a play called "From Orchids to Dande- 
 lions." 
 
 So, for heaven's sake, come home in time! The date's 
 had to be shoved up on account of some great-aunt who 
 intends to leave Jean her fortune some day if she isn't 
 offended now, and the nice old lady wants to start for the 
 Far East the day after the date she sets for our affair. 
 
"CAKES AND ICES" ,3^9 
 
 *'0f course we must go," Craig agreed. "We'll 
 Stand by the dear fellow till the last orchid has with- 
 ered—if they use orchids at June weddings, which I 
 doubt. As for the dandelions, I think there's small 
 fear that Jean won't like them. I fully believe in her 
 sincerity, and I'm prepared to see her astonish her 
 family by her devotion to country life. Stuart's 
 able to keep her in real luxury, from the rural point 
 of view, as I understand it, and she will bring him a lot 
 of fresh enthusiasm that will do him a world of good.'* 
 
 "I'm trying to imagine Jimps's June-tanned face 
 above a white shirt front," mused Georgiana. "He'll 
 be a perfect Indian shade by that time." 
 
 "Not more so than any young tennis or golf en- 
 thusiast, will he?" 
 
 "Oh, much more. Jimps is out in the sun from 
 dawn till sundown; his very eyebrows get a russet 
 shade. But of course that doesn't matter, and his 
 splendid shoulders certainly do fill out a dress coat to 
 great advantage. You don't mind being considered 
 one of his best friends by a young farmer, do you? 
 That's the way he feels about you." 
 
 "I consider it a great honour. I never was better 
 pleased than when Stuart first made friends with me, 
 even after I discovered that he was, as I thought, my 
 ! successful rival. It was impossible to help liking 
 him. In fact, I've often wondered why— he didn't 
 lontinue to be my rival." 
 
320 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 "Oh, no, Jefferson Craig, you couldn't possibly 
 wonder that ! " contradicted Georgiana, in such a tone 
 of finality that her husband laughed and told her that 
 flattery could go no farther. 
 
 The voyage home was nearly a duplicate of the one 
 outward bound, except that the two workers put in 
 much extra time on the book and pushed it well 
 toward completion. 
 
 Father Davy acquired the strength to take short 
 walks on an even deck and boasted hugely of his ac- 
 quisition, a twinkle in his eye and a tingeof real colour 
 in his cheek. 
 
 "Imagine my coming home from abroad with 
 trunks full of clothes and books and pictures," mur- 
 mured Georgiana, as the three stood together watch- 
 ing the big ship make her port. " I feel like a regular 
 millionairess." 
 
 "A regular one would smile at your modest show- 
 ing," was Craig's comment. "I'm quite certain no 
 man ever found it more difficult to persuade his 
 wife to buy frocks, even when he went with her 
 and expressed his anxiety to see her in particular 
 colours." 
 
 "Confess," demanded Georgiana with spirit, "that 
 you would be disappointed if I suddenly became a dev- 
 otee of clothes and wanted all those gorgeous things 
 we saw, and which that black-eyed Frenchwoman 
 tried so hard to make me take." 
 
"CAKES AND ICES" 321 
 
 "Those wouldn't have suited you, of course. I 
 don't want to make an actress of you, or even a so- 
 ciety woman who gets her gowns described in the 
 Sunday papers. But when you refuse simple white 
 frocks with blue ribbons " 
 
 "Costing three figures! And I could copy every 
 one of those myself for a fraction of the money." 
 
 "What would you do with the money saved?" 
 
 "Buy books." 
 
 Georgiana and Father Davy exchanged a smiling, 
 tender glance which spoke of past years of longings 
 now satisfied. 
 
 Craig laughed heartily. "Incorrigible little book- 
 lover! Well, it's a worthy taste. I happened to 
 overhear a comment on your reading the other day 
 which amused me very much. When you left your 
 steamer chair to walk with me you left also a copy of 
 Traditions of the Covenanters. A little later, coming up 
 behind that young Edmeston, who spends most of his 
 time lounging in the chair next yours, I heard him say 
 to a girl: 'She doesn't look such an awful highbrow, 
 but believe me, the things she reads on ship- 
 board when the rest of us are yawning over summer 
 novels would help weight the anchor if we got on the 
 rocks!' Then with awe he mentioned the name of 
 that book, and the girl said : ' How frightful ! But I'm 
 crazy about her just the same. I do think she wears 
 the darlingest clothes.' So there you are! The 
 
322 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 men impressed, the girls envious, and your hus- 
 band — ^worshipful. What more could a young wife 
 ask?" 
 
 "Absolutely nothing," acknowledged Georgiana 
 with much amusement. 
 
CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 A TANNED HERCULES 
 
 IN SPITE of the fact that the holiday was over it 
 was good to get back to the old house on the Square, 
 to hear Mrs. MacFayden's warm "It's a gled day"; to 
 smile at Thomas and Duncan and the maids; to hug 
 dear Mrs. Brandt; and to receive a hearty welcome 
 from the other friends, who were mostly still in town 
 in the middle of June. 
 
 Then came eager summonses from Jeannette, 
 who, with Aunt Olivia and Rosalie, was staying at 
 an uptown hotel for the finishing of the trousseau. 
 Georgiana found herself involved in a round of 
 final shopping and hurried luncheons, while Rosalie 
 talked incessantly, Mrs. Crofton argued maternally, 
 and the bride-elect herself turned to Georgiana as the 
 one person — ^with the exception of her father — ^who 
 understood her. 
 
 "I can't convince mother and Rosy that I'm not 
 really to spend the summer in the country with 
 Jimps, and most of the rest of the year at home doing 
 the usual round," sighed Jeannette, unburdening 
 herself to her cousin during a half-hour's needed 
 
 323 
 
324 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 relaxation between luncheon and a visit to a famous 
 jeweller's. 
 
 "I know; you'll just have to be patient, let them 
 equip you for what they expect of you, and then — live 
 your own life as you and Jimps have planned it. 
 After a while they will see that you really do mean to 
 live in the country, not the city, and that decollete 
 evening gowns don't suit the fireside, nor afternoon 
 calling costumes the five-mile tramp. Meanwhile, 
 don't let the poor boy ever guess at the size or quality 
 of your outfit. I think he'd run away and hang 
 himself!" 
 
 "He never shall know. And, Georgiana, I really 
 have managed to have some quite simple little 
 frocks made — by a young woman whom Madame 
 Trennet recommended when I whispered in her 
 ear. And I've bought the jolliest dark green cordu- 
 roy suit, with a short skirt and pockets, and a 
 little green corduroy soft hat to match, for the 
 tramps. Oh, I'm going to be a real farmer's wife, I 
 promise you!" 
 
 "Of course," mused Georgiana gently, lifting 
 quizzical eyebrows, " I've never happened to see any 
 farmer's wife thus equipped, but there's no reason 
 why you shouldn't set the fashion. I suppose you 
 will wear green silk stockings and bronze pumps with 
 this picturesque tramping costume, with a bronze 
 buckle in your hat to complete the ensemble. All 
 
A TANNED HERCULES 325 
 
 you will then need will be a beautiful painted drop of 
 
 the Forest of Arden " 
 
 "You unkind thing! If yoM begin to scofF- 
 
 'But I won't. I know there's heaps of sense in 
 your pretty head, and you'll make Jimps the most 
 satisfying sort of a wife even though you don't carry 
 the eggs to market or milk the cows. There's no 
 reason why you should, with your own private in- 
 come. Jimps is too wise to forbid your spending it 
 to decorate both your lives, for he knows you couldn't 
 stand real wear and tear, while a reasonable amount 
 of country life will make you stronger. Go ahead, 
 dear; hang English chintzes at the farmhouse win- 
 dows, set up your baby grand piano in that nice, old 
 living-room, and hang jolly hunting prints in the 
 dining-room. Wear the corduroys — only, instead of 
 bronze pumps, I should advise " 
 
 "You needn't. I've got them. The heaviest 
 kind of tanned buckskin boots. And you all may 
 laugh, but you just wait!" 
 
 "I'm not laughing; you know I'm not. I wish I 
 could help you by convincing Aunt Olivia that you 
 don't need some of the things she insists on including. 
 But, since I can't, I'll comfort you by assuring you 
 that Jefferson says he's counting on your being one| 
 of the sort who will prove the great contention — that 
 beauty and poetry can be brought into the farm- 
 house." 
 
326 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 Thus spoke Georgiana, though in her heart of 
 hearts, as she watched Jeannette in all her costly 
 elegance, at counter after counter, selecting supplies 
 of one sort or another, she couldn't help having her 
 doubts whether a lifelong training in luxury could be 
 turned into a fitness for living, in spite of many 
 mitigations, the truly simple life. These doubts, 
 however, she suppressed, only dropping a word of 
 caution here and there, which Jeannette took kindly, 
 being eager to prove herself practical, and undoubt- 
 edly sincere in her longing to bring to James StuaQ: 
 the helpmate he needed. 
 
 So came on the great day; and when it had arrived, 
 and the Craigs were guests of Aunt Olivia, making 
 ready for the ceremony, Georgiana had her chance to 
 return to Stuart the support he had given her in the 
 hour of her own marriage. She had just completed 
 her dressing, and was about to descend with her hus- 
 band to the waiting bridal party below, when Stuart 
 came to their door. 
 
 Craig admitted him, and he entered, the dreaded 
 white gloves in his hands, visible agitation on his brow. 
 
 "You young Hercules ! " Georgiana cried. "Aren't 
 you splendid!" 
 
 "I feel anything but splendid," he returned ner- 
 vously. "I look like a boiled lobster on a white 
 platter!" 
 
 "Nonsense, man," denied Dr. Jefferson Craig, his 
 
A TANNED HERCULES 327 
 
 hand on Stuart's shoulder, "you're the picture of a 
 healthy young bridegroom. I've seen plenty of tal- 
 low candles standing up to be married; you're a re- 
 freshing contrast." 
 
 After a minute of heartening talk, Craig slipped out 
 of the room, leaving the two old friends together. 
 
 "Cheer up, Jimps," Georgiana bade Stuart, as she 
 gave a straightening little touch to his white cravat, 
 woman fashion. "This part won't last long. And 
 don't be frightened when you catch sight of Jean 
 in all her glory. She would much rather have been 
 married as I was, you know, and she's really pre- 
 cisely the same girl in spite of her veil. She worships 
 you, and everything's all right. Stop looking as if 
 you wanted to run away ! " 
 
 "But I do — if I could just take her with me," he 
 answered, in such a melancholy tone that Georgiana 
 laughed in his ruddy face. 
 
 "You can't; this is the only way you can get her; 
 so stand up straight and look everybody in the eye. 
 You're perfectly stunning in those clothes, and lots 
 nicer to look at than most men. And Chester will 
 take you serenely through all the forms, so you've 
 nothing to worry about. That's right — give me a 
 ghost of a smile. One would think you were about to 
 be hung!" 
 
 "I came to you to be braced up, so it's all right; 
 but call off the dogs of war now. I did pretty well 
 
328 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 till I saw the total effect, and then I thought maybe 
 Jean would wish she had a man who could turn pale 
 instead of crimson. But I'm going through with if, 
 and I don't intend to look knockkneed, anyhow." 
 
 "Good for you. Just remember that Jean wouU 
 swim through a flood of water to reach you, wedding 
 gown and all, if the aisle should happen to be inun- 
 dated, so you certainly can stand at the altar while 
 she walks up that aisle." 
 
 "I sure can." And James McKenzie Stuart shook 
 his broad shoulders, lifted his head, and held out bgth 
 hands to Georgiana Craig. "Much obliged for the 
 tonic. And, George — ^just remember, will you, that 
 I'm precisely the same brother to you I've always 
 been! Nothing can ever change that!" 
 
 "Of course you are," she agreed, with a rush of 
 vivid recollections which brought a curious little 
 smile to her lips. "Now go, my dear boy, and 
 heaven bless you!" 
 
 Half an hour later, standing beside her husband in 
 the flower-fragrant church, Georgiana watched with a 
 beating heart to see Stuart bear himself like the man 
 she knew him to be, in spite of all the pomp and cere- 
 mony to which he was such a stranger. She had been 
 half angry, all the way through the preparations, that 
 Aunt Olivia had insisted on every last detail of 
 formality and ostentation — or so it had seemed to 
 her, as unaccustomed as Stuart himself to the great 
 
A TANNED HERCULES 329 
 
 church wedding with i*s long processional, its show of 
 bridesmaids and flower girls, its ranks of ushers, its 
 elaborate music, its pair of distinguished clergymen 
 In full canonicals. But now, somehow, as the age- 
 old words sounded upon her ears, it seemed to matter 
 less under what circumstances they were spoken, so 
 that the answers to the solemn questions came from 
 the hearts of those who spoke them. And of this she 
 could have no possible doubt. 
 
 By and by, when in her turn, back in the festally 
 decorated house, she came to give the newly married 
 pair her felicitations, she was well pleased to see Stu- 
 art quite himself again, smiling at her with the proud 
 look of the bridegroom from whom no human being 
 can wrest the prize he has just secured. And as she 
 noted Jeannette's equally evident happy content with 
 the man she had married, Georgiana took courage for 
 their future. Surely — surely — they could go from 
 these scenes of luxury to the plainer life that awaited 
 them, and miss nothing, so that they took with them, 
 as they were doing, the one thing needful. 
 
 "It's all right, I'm sure it's all right, dears," she 
 said to them, and she said it again to her husband 
 when they were rushing back to New York by the 
 first train after the bridal pair had gone. 
 
 "Yes, I think it is," he agreed. "It's an interest- 
 ing experiment, but not more hazardous than many 
 another in the matrimonial line. If it succeeds 
 
330 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 Jeannette will come out a finer woman than she could 
 ever have been by any other process. It's amusing, 
 though, to see her family. Evidently they regard 
 her as one lost to the world quite as much as if she 
 had gone into a convent to take the vows perpetual." 
 
 "All but Uncle Thomas. He knows; he under- 
 stands, little as he says. He grew up on a farm him- 
 self; he told me once that he could never smother the 
 longing to get back to one. Poor Uncle Thomas, 
 chained to a mahogany desk, with a Persian rug 
 under his feet! That one little trip across the water, 
 when the family went last year, was the only vaca- 
 tion he had taken in five years. And he came back 
 on the next ship ! " 
 
 "Jean and Stuart will have him often with them, 
 see if they don't." 
 
 "I hope so. Change is what he needs very badly. 
 Change! Oh, if everybody could have that when 
 they need it! How it does make lives over! I know 
 — ^how I do know! It's the deadly monotony that 
 kills. Jean will bloom under the old farmhouse 
 roof, away from all the fuss and frivolity she's so 
 tired of." 
 
 "You've done some blooming yourself," observed 
 her husband, "though I'll venture to say you work 
 harder than you ever did before, even at the old 
 loom.." 
 
 She gave him a quick glance. "Oh, it wasn't play- 
 
A TANNED HERCULES 331 
 
 I needed — just work — the sort of work I love. I 
 have that now. I love the visits to the hospital, the 
 looking after the patients you bring home, the taking 
 notes of your lectures, the teaching of my evening 
 class of Italians — every bit of it is a delight. And 
 then, when we do run away for a few hours, like 
 
 this " 
 
 "We enjoy it all the more for the contrast. Yes, 
 I think we do. It's a pretty fine partnership, and it 
 grows more satisfying all the time. Here's hoping 
 the two we've just seen start follow in our contented 
 footsteps. A year from now we'll know!" 
 
CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 MILESTONES 
 
 GEORGIANA would not have believed that it 
 would be a full year before she should have a 
 chance to see for herself what sort of life Jeannette 
 and Stuart were making for themselves under the 
 conditions which seemed such doubtful ones. But.so 
 it turned out. 
 
 It had been before Jeannette's marriage that 
 Georgiana found a change coming in her own life, 
 and the months of the summer and autumn which 
 followed were busy with the happy preparations for 
 the new experience. In January her first son was 
 born, and she learned that even a full and joyous 
 partnership between two human beings is not the 
 most complete thing that can happen to them. When 
 she saw her husband take the round, little pink- 
 blanketed bundle in his arms for the first time, and 
 watched his face as he explored the tiny features for 
 signs of the future, her heart beat high with such rich 
 content as she had not dreamed of. 
 
 "Strange, isn't it, dear!" Craig said, when he had 
 laid the pink bundle back in the arms of the nurse, 
 
 332 
 
MILESTONES 333 
 
 who bore it away to the pretty nursery close at hand. 
 "It's an old miracle always new, and never so won- 
 derful as when it comes to us for the first time — how 
 that little life can be neither you nor I, yet both of 
 us in one. Big possibilities are wrapped up in that 
 bit of flesh and blood ; it's going to be a great interest, 
 the watching them begin to show." 
 
 "Oh, yes!" she murmured, lying quietly with her 
 hand beneath her cheek, too weary and too happy for 
 speech. 
 
 "I wonder if I dare to telj you how soon it 
 was after I knew you that I began to think of 
 you as playing this part in my life," he said very 
 softly. 
 
 "Did you? I'm so glad." It was hardly more 
 than a whisper. 
 
 "Are you glad? I often think a girl little dreams 
 of how often that vision comes to a man long before 
 she has thought of it at all. I was only a very young 
 man when I began to think of it. Even when there 
 was no woman in my mind I used to plan what I 
 would do for my own son when I should have him. 
 And when I saw you I thought — with the greatest 
 reverence, darling: 'If she might be my son's 
 mother!'" 
 
 He did not need the look her eyes gave him to tell 
 him how this touched her. When he went quietly 
 away to leave her for the long sleep she needed it 
 
334 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 was with the consciousness that the bond between 
 them was more absolute than it had ever been. 
 
 It was in the following June, on the anniversary of 
 the marriage of the James McKenzie Stuarts, that 
 the Jefferson Craigs had their first opportunity to see 
 with their own eyes how that marriage was prosper- 
 ing. Letters from Jeannette had come to Georgiana 
 from time to time, with an occasional postscript from 
 Stuart, and these letters always breathed of happiness. 
 
 "But one can't be perfectly sure from letters,'* 
 Georgiana argued. "After all the opposition and 
 skepticism they would never own to anybody that 
 life didn't flow like a rose-bordered stream. But one 
 glimpse of their faces will tell the story. If Jean- 
 nette has a certain look I've often seen on the faces 
 of girls who have been married about a year I shall 
 guess what causes it. As for Jimps — he will be as 
 easily read as an open book. Jeff, you won't let 
 anything prevent our being there for the fete they 
 ask us for?" 
 
 "Nothing that I can foresee and provide for," 
 Craig promised. "I'm quite as eager as you to dis- 
 cover how the transplanting of the hothouse plant 
 into the hardy outdoor soil of the country has worked 
 out. There are two results about equally probable 
 in such cases — hardly equally probable, either. The 
 natural result, I should fear, would be the dwindling 
 and stunting of the growth, unless protected by 
 
MILESTONES 335 
 
 expedients not common to the country, and fertilized 
 until it should be really not growing in country soil 
 at all." 
 
 " But the possible result ? " urged Georgiana. 
 
 "The one we're hoping for in this case — though 
 I'm not sure how close an analogy I can draw, being 
 no gardener — is the gradual process of adaptation 
 to environment, so that the plant takes on a hardier 
 quality, at an unavoidable sacrifice in size of bloom 
 but with a corresponding gain in sturdiness and 
 ability to bear the chilling winds and the beating 
 sunlight of outdoors. Great size in a flower never 
 appealed to me anyhow. I like a blossom that 
 stands straight and firm upon its stem, that gives 
 forth a clean, spicy fragrance and doesn't wilt when 
 it has been an hour in my buttonhole." 
 
 "That's the sort Jimps wants, I'm sure. He used 
 to be always tucking one of his scarlet geranium blos- 
 soms into his coat when he came over to see me. 
 We all think of Jeannette as the frailest sort of an 
 orchid, beautiful to look at but ready to wither at a 
 touch. This letter of invitation doesn't sound like 
 that at all. You really think the long drive won't 
 hurt little son?" 
 
 "Not a bit, if you keep from getting tired or over- 
 heated yourself. We can manage that very nicely, 
 with Duncan to drive, Lydia to look after the boy, 
 and a long stop on the one night we must spend on 
 
336 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 the way. The change will do you good, faithful 
 young mother." 
 
 This proved quite true, and the two days' journey 
 in the great car was indeed an easy one for all con- 
 cerned. Little Jefferson Junior, six months' old, 
 slept away many hours of the trip, and spent the rest 
 happily in his nurse's or his mother's lap, watching 
 with big, dark eyes the spots of colour or life on 
 the summer landscape as it slipped smoothly past. 
 Georgiana had wanted to bring Father Davy, but 
 though he had grown considerably stronger during 
 the past year, it had not seemed worth while to put 
 his endurance to so severe a test. He had not been 
 left forlorn, however, for the Peter Brandts had 
 taken him to their home, a welcome and a delighted 
 guest. No doubt but there was a place for David 
 Warne in the great city, as there had been in the 
 country village. 
 
 On the afternoon of the second day, as they neared 
 the old home village, to which Georgiana had re- 
 turned only once since her marriage, she found her- 
 self noting with quickening pulse every familiar 
 landmark. 
 
 "It seems so strange to think of my going away 
 from such scenes for good and all, and Jean's coming 
 to them," she said to herself more than once. "How 
 Httle either of us would have beheved it, just two short 
 years ago!" 
 
MILESTONES 337 
 
 When they passed the old manse she gazed at it 
 with affectionate eyes. "Oh, how shabby and poor 
 it looks!" she said under her breath to Craig. "Did 
 it look like that when you first saw it?" 
 
 He nodded, smiling. "Just like that. But the 
 moment the door opened the first time I knew its 
 shabbiness was just a blind to mislead the traveler, 
 who might otherwise stop and try to steal the treasure 
 that it held." 
 
 Her eyes were searching next for the chimney tops 
 that should mark the other home for which they were 
 bound. How often had she looked at those chimney 
 tops, because they told her where was her best friend 
 during those solitary days that were already so far 
 past. A moment more and Georgiana's first excla- 
 mation of surprise broke from her lips. There were 
 to be many before the day was done. 
 
 "Look! All those ugly little buildings at the back 
 are gone, and the house stands all by itself at the 
 top of the slope. Isn't that an improvement.'' It's 
 freshly painted, too; how that clear white brings out 
 the beauty of the old house! It used to be such a 
 dingy slate! I always knew it was a pleasant place, 
 but I didn'^ fully appreciate it. The lawn is as trim 
 as can be, and there's a border of shrubs and flowers 
 all along the drive. How little real change to make 
 so much! That's Jean, I know. Oh, and there's 
 Jean herself, running down the steps! She sees us!" 
 
338 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 " Is that really Jeannette Crofton ? " Craig doubted. 
 " Yes— for a fact ! Well, well ! " 
 
 They might easily doubt the evidence of their eyes, 
 for the slim figure they had known so well hadrounded 
 until it showed softly blooming curves, and colouring 
 which put to blush the cosmetics which the society 
 girl had not altogether eschewed, though it had been 
 long before the less sophisticated cousin had found 
 this out. No need for rouge or powder now, for 
 nature had laid on the lovely face her own unrivalled 
 tints of rose overlying the soft browns of summer tan. 
 
 "Oh, you darlings, to come and bring the baby I 
 Do let me look at him — the blessed thing! Isn't he 
 a beauty? — but, of course, how could he help it? 
 Jimps! O Jimps! Here they are!" 
 
 Thus cried Jeannette out of sheer exuberance, 
 though the fact of the arrival was obvious enough, 
 and James Stuart was already dashing across the 
 lawn from the opposite direction. 
 
 As she looked at her cousin, Georgiana's first im- 
 pression was the one she had hardly dared hope for, 
 that of Jeannette's entire content and well-being. 
 Not only was the physical improvement noteworthy 
 but a certain worn and worldly look had vanished — 
 one which had not affected her beauty and had been 
 discernible only to the closely observing eye, but 
 which had been there none the less and was gone 
 now. 
 
MILESTONES 339 
 
 This change grew more and more apparent as 
 Georgiana continued to regard her young hostess. 
 From the moment the party first entered the wide- 
 thrown front door, it was easy to discover that both 
 Stuart and his wife were eager as two children for the 
 approval of their guests. Such approval was not 
 long in appearing. 
 
 "How pleasant — how charming!" cried Georgiana, 
 as her quick eye took in attractive effect after effect. 
 "Oh, you clever things, to do it like this ! How abso- 
 lutely in keeping it all is, and how quiet, yet how 
 beautiful!" 
 
 "She's done it," vowed James Stuart proudly. 
 " I was a duffer at it till she showed me what she was 
 after. I wanted to buy brocaded silk furniture, like 
 that in her home — ^while my money held out. But 
 she would have nothing but this sort of thing. Home- 
 like, isn't it?" 
 
 It was the word which described it, if one quali- 
 fied the term by making it apply only to homes 
 built on foundations of good taste and suitability 
 to environment. As she looked about her Georgiana 
 saw everjrwhere evidences of the use of abundant 
 means, and she realized that Jeannette had been 
 clever indeed to supply so much without impressing 
 Stuart with the undoubted fact that she had con- 
 tributed more than he to the final result. 
 
 The whole effect of the house's interior was one of 
 
340 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 well-chosen but unostentatious comfort, and the 
 materials and furnishings used were all so nicely 
 adapted to their setting that only to more discerning 
 eyes than those of the Stuarts' neighbours would they 
 have expressed unusual resources of supply. 
 
 " It's an achievement ! " Craig declared. 
 
 His enlightened gaze traveled from one point to 
 another of the long, low-ceilinged living-room, sunny 
 with new windows, and with walls and hangings of 
 soft browns and golden yellows. He noted that Jean- 
 nette had had the good sense to make use of the 
 old furniture the house possessed wherever it was fit 
 for preservation, and that she had dignified the walls 
 by retaining certain dim old portraits, done in fading 
 oils, of Stuart's ancestors. Everywhere could be 
 seen similar interesting blending of the new and the 
 old, though it was often diflScult to tell which was 
 which. 
 
 The elder Stuarts were living in a wing of the 
 house, that being the portion where they had spent 
 their lives, making little use of the upright and 
 the corresponding wing, which were now turned 
 over to the son and his wife. Since the elder people 
 wisely preferred this semi-independence, the younger 
 were able to be much by themselves, Stuart explained, 
 though always near and ready to lend a hand at any 
 hour. Since the stalwart son could not be entirely 
 (pared by the somewhat feeble old couple, the 
 
MILESTONES 341 
 
 arrangement seemed an admirable one, and thus far it 
 had worked very well. 
 
 "Jean's such a dear with them," Stuart said 
 covertly to Georgiana, leading her aside for a moment 
 to look at a curious old buflFet which had been long in 
 the family. "They adore her, and she really seems 
 very fond of them. Of course they have old Eliza 
 to look after them, as they have had for so long; 
 but we ask them in to dinner every few days, and 
 often have them sitting by the fire with us here 
 on cool evenings. The funny part, though, is when 
 Mother Crofton comes. She can't get over it, or get 
 used to it; she sits and looks at Jean as if she were an 
 actress in a play, and by and by would take off her 
 make-up and be herself again." 
 
 "I wonder how far that is from the real truth," 
 thought Georgiana to herself, as she watched the 
 young mistress of the place with fascinated eyes. 
 
 Certainly if Jeannette were acting it was very 
 skilfully done. As she led her guests about the 
 house, and then established them on the lawn, be- 
 neath the great elms which furnished a grateful shade 
 at this afternoon hour over nearly the whole expanse, 
 she seemed the embodiment of health and happiness. 
 
 By and by, when the Crofton car arrived, bearing 
 Uncle Thomas and Aunt Olivia, with Rosalie and 
 Chester following a few moments later in Chester's 
 roadster, Jeannette grew fairly radiant. 
 
CHAPTER XXX 
 
 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS 
 
 IT WAS not until late that evening that Georgiana 
 had a chance really to learn the whole state of the 
 case. 
 
 During the intervening hours had occurred the 
 event for which they had all been invited — the enter- 
 taining of at least two hundred people from the sur- 
 rounding country and the village. For this event, 
 which Stuart naively called a "party," Jeannette a 
 "lawn fete," and the guests themselves, for the most 
 part, a "picnic," porches, lawn and trees had been 
 hung with gay lanterns, bonfires had been built, the 
 small village band engaged, a light but delectable 
 supper provided, and as much jollity planned as 
 could be crowded into the hours between five o'clock 
 and eleven. 
 
 From the standpoint of those entertaining, at least, 
 the affair had been a success, for Stuart, long accus- 
 tomed to the ways of his fellow countrymen, consid- 
 ered himself fully able to tell from their manner, if 
 not from their expressions of pleasure, whether they 
 had really found enjoyment in the effortsof their hosts. 
 
 342 
 
QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS 343 
 
 "They had a mighty good time, no doubt about 
 it!" he declared, when the last reluctant guest had 
 departed in the last small car which had waited at the 
 adge of the roadway. (Not the least of young Ches- 
 ter Crofton's enjoyment had been occasioned by 
 the sight of the long row of vehicles, from two- 
 seated wagons to smart and even expensive motors, 
 which had lined the road for many rods.) "And 
 a lot of them are well worth knowing," Stuart 
 added. 
 
 His eye chanced to fall on his father-in-law, Mr. 
 Thomas Crofton, as he made this assertion. The 
 party were sitting in a group upon the lantern-lighted 
 porch and its steps, and the senior Crofton's face was 
 plainly visible. 
 
 That gentleman nodded. "You're quite right, 
 Jim," he said. "I don't know when I've had a more 
 interesting conversation with any man than I did 
 with one of your neighbours, nor found a more intelli- 
 gent set of opinions on every subject we touched on. 
 He wasn't the only one, either. As a rule I found the 
 people who came here to-night possessed of rather 
 more than the average amount of brains. I should 
 like to try living among them — for a change, at least." 
 
 "I struck a tongue-tied dolt or two," remarked 
 his son Chester, "but dolts aren't uncommon any- 
 where, even when not tongue-tied. And I did run 
 up against some chaps I liked jolly well. One of 
 
344 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 them invited me up for a week-end; I nearly fell 
 over when he did it. I didn't know country people 
 ever talked about week-ends. I thought they called 
 it 'staying over Sunday.'" 
 
 "You mean Wells Lawson," Stuart informed him. 
 "If you could see the Hst of newspapers and maga- 
 zines, not to mention books, that the Lawsons take, 
 you'd open your eyes. He and his family have trav- 
 eled a lot more than I have, and their home is one of 
 the finest model farms in the county. There's no 
 hayseed in their hair." 
 
 "I didn't discover much hayseed in anybody's 
 hair," observed Dr. Jefferson Craig. "I think it's 
 gone out of fashion." 
 
 "There were some of the prettiest girls here to- 
 night I ever saw," was Rosalie's contribution to the 
 list of comments. A figure of exquisite modishness, 
 she perched upon the porch rail near Chester. "I 
 did want to tell them not to let any one young man 
 stick by them every minute the way they did, but I 
 could hardly blame the young men for wanting to 
 stick, the girls were so sweet, and some of them were 
 quite stunning." 
 
 "You certainly gave them an example of how to 
 make eyes at fifteen or twenty fellows, one after an- 
 other," laughed her brother, at her side. "You'd 
 have had them all coming. Rosy, if they hadn't been 
 tied up to their respective girls. A lesson or two 
 
QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS 345 
 
 from you, and those girls would begin to play 'round 
 in proper shape." 
 
 " Rosy's going to stay and take a few lessons her- 
 self," insinuated Jeannette, who sat with her shapely 
 young arm testing upon her father's knee, as she 
 occupied the step below him. "I'll promise to put 
 some flesh on her Uttle bones if she's here a month. 
 She's too thin, after only her second season." 
 
 "Oh, I'll stay," promised RosaHe promptly. "I 
 simply love it here; I'm crazy to stay!" 
 
 "It's all very well now," came Aunt Olivia's low 
 murmur in Georgiana's ear — there had been many of 
 such murmurs in the same ear during the afternoon 
 and evening, though why, Georgiana herself could not 
 guess, since the elder woman knew the younger to 
 be unreservedly committed to upholding Jeannette's 
 whole course — "very well now, in June, with flowers 
 blooming and friends about, but how the poor child 
 is going to face a second winter I can't imagine." 
 
 "She faced the first one very happily," Georgiana 
 reminded her. 
 
 "The first one was a novelty and of course she 
 was determined not to acknowledge how lonely she 
 must often have been. I do not say that James 
 Stuart is not a very attractive and trustworthy young 
 man; I am fond of him myself — very. But I shall 
 always feel that Jeannette has made a terrible mis- 
 take. Brought up as she has been, it is not conceiv- 
 
346 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 able that she should continue to find this sort of life 
 possible." 
 
 It was with this moan in her ears that, a few min- 
 utes later, Georgiana listened to James Stuart. He 
 had drawn her away from the group and was strolling 
 with her across the lawn. 
 
 "Well, George, tell me your honest opinion. Is my 
 wife happy?" 
 
 It was a blunt question, but Georgiana under- 
 stood. He asked it not to be reassured but because 
 he was confident of the answer. * 
 
 She spoke guardedly: "I never saw her seem more 
 so, Jimps. You are sure of it yourself? " 
 
 "I want you to ask her point-blank. Will yoii?" 
 
 "It's not the sort of question to ask anybody point- 
 blank, is it?" 
 
 " It is in this case. Do you think I don't know the 
 doubt in all your minds ? — yes, even yours, for you've 
 become another person since you married Craig." 
 
 "Oh, no!" 
 
 "Oh, yes! You've been thinking ever since you 
 came that you're dead thankful you don't have to 
 come back to it — now, haven't you ? " 
 
 "Jimps, dear, I lived all my life in the hardest, 
 narrowest economy. If I had had all this beautiful 
 experience Jean is having " 
 
 "I know. But you wouldn't come back, even to 
 this place of ours " 
 
QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS 347 
 
 "That's begging the question. For Jean it's a 
 wonderful change, and any one can see what it's done 
 for her." 
 
 "Physically, yes. But I want you to find out 
 whether she's actually happy or not." 
 
 "I will," promised his friend with a nod; for she 
 knew James Stuart much too well to imagine she 
 could put him ofF without complying with his ex- 
 pressed desire. 
 
 It looked as if Jeannette herself were anxious to 
 assure her cousin's mind, for Stuart had no sooner 
 brought Georgiana back to the porch than his wife 
 took possession of her. 
 
 "Georgiana, dear, I want you to tell me one thing," 
 began Jeannette, as the two moved slowly a little 
 away from the rest. "Do you think we are making 
 a success of it?" 
 
 "A wonderful success, Jean. I couldn't have be- 
 lieved it, even what I see on the surface. How about 
 it — ^inside? That's a pretty searching question, and 
 you needn't answer it if you don't want to. Every- 
 thing about you seems to answer it." 
 
 Jeannette stopped short and turned to face her 
 cousin. "Haven't I written you the answer, over 
 and over?" 
 
 "Yes. That's why I want to hear it from your 
 own lips." 
 
 "You shall. First, though — Georgiana, you knew 
 
348 UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 Antoinette Burwell married Miles Channing last 
 December?" 
 
 "I heard of it. How do, they come on?" 
 
 "Separated; she's gone back to her father. She 
 was the most wildly happy bride I ever saw. Think 
 of it, George — in six months! What do you suppose 
 would have happened if you " 
 
 "Don't! I didn't." And Georgiana's grateful 
 thoughts went back to one of the crises in her life, 
 the one from which Jefferson Craig had rescued her. 
 
 "Do you know the Ralph Hendersons? Married 
 two years now — I'm sure you've heard me speak of 
 them. Everybody knows they quarrel like cats and 
 dogs; they're hardly civil to each other in public. 
 And I know several more of our old set who are none 
 too happy, if one may judge by their looks. Yet 
 they all married 'in their own class,' as mother is so 
 fond of saying, as if I didn't! — I married above it! 
 And I am supposed to have cast away all my chances 
 for this life, not to mention the next, by marrying 
 my farmer ! Georgiana, I'm getting to hate that word 
 farmer! Why isn't there a new word made for the 
 man who reads and studies and uses the latest mod- 
 ern methods on his farm? There are such a lot of 
 them now. College graduates, like Jimps, and men 
 who have taken agricultural courses and are putting 
 their brains into their work. Why isn't there a new 
 word?" 
 
QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS 349 
 
 "The old word must be made to acquire a new 
 dignity," Georgiana suggested. "Never mind the 
 word; you're glad you married your farmer?" 
 
 "Glad! I thank God every night and morning; 
 I thank Him every time I go running down the lane 
 to meet my husband coming up from the meadow! 
 Of course I know, Georgiana, that the life I'm living 
 isn't the typical life of the farmer's wife at all — 
 thanks to Jimps' success and my own little pocket- 
 book! But it has all outdoors in it and lots of lovely 
 indoors; and I'm growing so well and strong: — ^you 
 can see that by just looking at me. And I'm getting 
 to know my neighbours, and like them — some of them 
 — oh, so much! Life never was so full. Mother 
 talks about how hard I'll find it to get through my 
 second winter. It doesn't worry me. We'll order 
 books and books, and we'll go for splendid tramps, 
 and every now and then we'll run into town — for 
 concerts and plays. And best of all, Georgiana," — 
 her voice sank — "I'm sure — sure — Jimps isn't disap- 
 pointed in me." 
 
 "Disappointed! I should say not — the lucky 
 boy!" Georgiana agreed, all her fears gone to the 
 winds. 
 
 When they returned to the porch it was to hear an 
 outcry from Jeannette's mother: "Chester Crofton! 
 Have you gone absolutely crazy?" 
 
3 so UNDER THE COUNTRY SKY 
 
 "I think so, mother. Positively dippy. Got it 
 in its worst form. It's been coming on me for some 
 time, but it's taken me now, for better or for worse. 
 I'm going to buy that small farm across the road and 
 try what I can do." 
 
 "I'll back you," came in Mr. Thomas Crofton's 
 deepest chest tones. 
 
 "Hear, hear!" Dr. Jefferson Craig's shout drowned 
 out Mrs. Crofton's groan. 
 
 "O Ches — I'll come and keep house for you — • 
 part of the year, anyhow!" This was dainty Rosali^, 
 her silk-stockinged ankles swinging wildly, as she sat 
 upon the porch rail. 
 
 Georgiana was laughing, as her eyes met her hus- 
 band's in a glance of understanding, but her heart 
 was very warm behind the laughter. 
 
 Beyond the gleam of the lanterns she caught the 
 golden glow of a summer moon rising, to illumine the 
 depths of the country sky — the immense, star- 
 spangled arch of the heavens. Beneath lay many 
 homes, big and little, all filled with human lives, 
 each with iits chance somehow to grow; each with its 
 chance, small or great, as a beloved writer has said 
 inspiringly, "to love and to work and to play and to 
 look up at the stars." 
 
 THE END 
 

 I