In spite of this well-intentioned admonition, Olive did not sleep well,
and dreamed all night of Miss Port in the shape of a great cat covered
with feathers like a chicken, and trying to get a chance to jump at her.
Very early she awoke, and looking at her clock, she began to calculate
the hours which must pass before Mr. Lancaster could arrive. It was
rather strange that of the two troubles which came to her as soon as she
opened her eyes, the suspected engagement of her uncle pushed itself in
front of the actual engagement of her father; the one was something she
_knew_ she would have to make up her mind to bear; the other was
something she _feared_ she would have to make up her mind to bear.




_CHAPTER XVIII_

_What Olive determined to do._


Olive was very much disappointed at breakfast time, and as soon as she
had finished that meal she stationed herself at a point on the grounds
which commanded the entrance. People came and talked to her, but she did
not encourage conversation, and about eleven o'clock she went to Mrs.
Easterfield in her room.

"He is not coming," she said. "He is afraid."

"What is he afraid of?" asked Mrs. Easterfield.

"He is afraid to tell me that the optimistic speculations with which he
tried to soothe my mind arose entirely from his own imagination. The
whole thing is exactly what I expected, and he hasn't the courage to
come and say so. Now, really, don't you think this is the state of the
case, and that if he had anything but the worst news to bring me he
would have been here long ago?"

Mrs. Easterfield looked very serious. "I would not give up," she said,
"until I saw Mr. Lancaster and heard what he has to say."

"That would not suit me," said Olive. "I have waited and waited just as
long as I can. It is as likely as not that he has concluded that he can
not do anything here which will be of service to any one, and has
started off to finish his vacation at some place where people won't
bother him with their own affairs. He told me when I first met him that
he was on his way North. And now, would you like me to tell you what I
have determined to do?"

"I would," said Mrs. Easterfield, but her expression did not indicate
that she expected Olive's announcement to give her any pleasure.

"I have been considering it all the morning," said Olive, "and I have
determined to marry without delay. The greatest object of my life at
present is to write to my father that I am married. I don't wish to tell
him anything until I can tell him that. I would also be glad to be able
to send the same message to the toll-gate house, but I don't suppose it
will make much difference there."

"Do you think," said Mrs. Easterfield, "that my inviting you here made
all this trouble?"

"No," said Olive. "It was not the immediate cause, but uncle knows I do
not like that woman, and she doesn't like me, and it would not have
suited him to have me stay very much longer with him. I thought at first
he was glad to have me go on account of Mr. Lancaster, but now I do not
believe that had anything to do with it. He did not want me with him,
and what that woman came here and told me about his not expecting me
back again was, I now believe, a roundabout message from him."

"Now, Olive," said Mrs. Easterfield, "it would be a great deal better
for you to stop all this imagining until you hear from Mr. Lancaster,
if you don't see him. Perhaps the poor young man has sprained his ankle,
or was prevented in some ordinary way from coming. But what is this
nonsense about getting married?"

"There is no nonsense about it," said Olive. "I am going to marry, but I
have not chosen any one yet."

Mrs. Easterfield uttered an exclamation of horror. "Choose!" she
exclaimed. "What have you to do with choosing? I don't think you are
much like other girls, but I did think you had enough womanly qualities
to make you wait until you are chosen."

"I intend to wait until I am chosen," said Olive, "but I shall choose
the person who is to choose me. I have always thought it absurd for a
young woman to sit and wait and wait until some one comes and sees fit
to propose to her. Even under ordinary circumstances, I think the young
woman has not a fair chance to get what she wants. But my case is
extraordinary, and I can't afford to wait; and as I don't want to go out
into the world to look for a husband, I am going to take one of these
young men here."

"Olive," cried Mrs. Easterfield, "you don't mean you are going to marry
Mr. Locker?"

"You forget," said Olive, "that I told you I have not made up my mind
yet. But although I have not come to a decision, I have a leaning toward
one of them. The more I think of it the more I incline in the direction
of my old love."

"Mr. Hemphill!" exclaimed Mrs. Easterfield. "Olive, you are crazy, or
else you are joking in a very disagreeable manner. There could be no
one more unfit for you than he is."

"I am not crazy, and I am not joking," replied the girl, "and I think
Rupert would suit me very well. You see, I think a great deal more of
Rupert than I do of Mr. Hemphill, although the latter gentleman has
excellent points. He is commonplace, and, above everything else, I want
a commonplace husband. I want some one to soothe me, and quiet me, and
to give me ballast. If there is anything out of the way to be done I
want to do it myself. I am sure he is in love with me, for his anxious
efforts to make me believe that the frank avowal of my early affection
had no effect upon him proves that he was very much affected. I believe
that he is truly in love with me."

Mrs. Easterfield's sharp eyes had seen this, and she had nothing to say.

"I believe," continued Olive, "that a retrospect love will be a better
foundation for conjugal happiness than any other sort of affection. One
can always look back to it no matter what happens, and be happy in the
memory of it. It would be something distinct which could never be
interfered with. You can't imagine what an earnest and absorbing love I
once had for that man!"

Mrs. Easterfield sprang to her feet. "Olive Asher," she cried, "I can't
listen to you if you talk in this way!"

"Well, then," said Olive, "if you object so much to Rupert--you must not
forget that it would be Rupert that I would really marry if I became the
wife of Mr. Hemphill--do you advise me to take Mr. Locker? And I will
tell you this, he is not to be rudely set aside; he has warm-hearted
points which I did not suspect at first. I will tell you what he just
said to me. As I was coming up-stairs he hurried toward me, and his face
showed that he was very anxious to speak to me. So before he could utter
a word, I told him that he was too early; that his hour had not yet
arrived. Then that good fellow said to me that he had seen I was in
trouble, and that he had been informed it had been caused by bad news
from my family. He had made no inquiries because he did not wish to
intrude upon my private affairs, and all he wished to say now was that
while my mind was disturbed and worried he did not intend to present his
own affairs to my attention, even though I had fixed regular times for
his doing so. But although he wished me to understand that I need not
fear his making love to me just at this time, he wanted me to remember
that his love was still burning as brightly as ever, and would be again
offered me just as soon as he would be warranted in doing so."

"And what did you say to that?" asked Mrs. Easterfield.

"I felt like patting him on the head," Olive answered, "but instead of
doing that I shook his hand just as warmly as I could, and told him I
should not forget his consideration and good feeling."

Mrs. Easterfield sighed. "You have joined him fast to your car," she
said, "and yet, even if there were no one else, he would be impossible."

"Why so?" asked Olive quickly. "I have always liked him, and now I like
him ever so much better. To be sure he is queer; but then he is so much
queerer than I am that perhaps in comparison I might take up the part
of commonplace partner. Besides, he has money enough to live on. He told
me that when he first addressed me. He said he would never ask any woman
to live on pickled verse feet, and he has also told me something of his
family, which must be a good one."

"Olive," said Mrs. Easterfield, "I don't believe at all in the necessity
or the sense in your precipitating plans of marrying. It is all airy
talk, anyway. You can't ask a man to step up and marry you in order that
you may sit down and write a letter to your father. But if you are
thinking of marrying, or rather of preparing to marry at some suitable
time, why, in the name of everything that is reasonable, don't you take
Mr. Lancaster? He is as far above the other young men you have met here
as the mountains are above the plains; he belongs to another class
altogether. He is a thoroughly fine young man, and has a most honorable
profession with good prospects, and I know he loves you. You need not
ask me how I know it--it is always easy for a woman to find out things
like that. Now, here is a prospective husband for you whose cause I
should advocate. In fact, I should be delighted to see you married to
him. He possesses every quality which would make you a good husband."

Olive smiled. "You seem to know a great deal about him," said she, "and
I assure you that so far as he himself is concerned, I have no
objections to him, except that I think he might have had the courage to
come and tell me the truth this morning, whatever it is."

"Perhaps he has not found out the truth yet," quickly suggested Mrs.
Easterfield.

Olive fixed her eyes upon her companion and for a few moments reflected,
but presently she shook her head.

"No, that can not be," she answered. "He would have let me know he had
been obliged to wait. Oh, no, it is all settled, and we can drop that
subject. But as for Mr. Lancaster, his connections would make any
thought of him impossible. He, and his father, too, are both close
friends of my uncle, and he would be a constant communication between me
and that woman unless there should be a quarrel, which I don't wish to
cause. No, I want to leave everything of that sort as far behind me as
it used to be in front of me, and as Professor Lancaster is mixed up
with it I could not think of having anything to do with him."

Mrs. Easterfield was silent. She was trying to make up her mind whether
this girl were talking sense or nonsense. What she said seemed to be
extremely nonsensical, but as she said it, it was difficult to believe
that she did not consider it to be entirely rational.

"Well," said Olive, "you have objected to two of my candidates, and I
positively decline the one you offer, so we have left only the diplomat.
He has proposed, and he has not yet received a definite answer. You have
told me yourself that he belongs to an aristocratic family in Austria,
and I am sure that would be a grand match. We have talked together a
great deal, and he seems to like the things I like. I should see plenty
of court life and high society, for he will soon be transferred from
this legation, and if I take him I shall go to some foreign capital. He
is very sharp and ambitious, and I have no doubt that some day he will
be looked upon as a distinguished foreigner. Now, as it is the ambition
of many American girls to marry distinguished foreigners, this alliance
is certainly worthy of due consideration."

"Stuff!" said Mrs. Easterfield.

Olive was not annoyed, and replied very quietly: "It is not stuff. You
must know young women who have married foreigners and who did not do
anything like so well as if they had married rising diplomats."

Mrs. Blynn now knocked at the door on urgent household business.

"I shall want to see you again about all this, Olive," said Mrs.
Easterfield as they parted.

"Of course," replied the girl, "whenever you want to."

"Mrs. Blynn," said the lady of the house, "before you mention what you
have come to talk about, please tell one of the men to put a horse to a
buggy and come to the house. I want to send a message by him."

The letter which was speedily on its way to Mr. Richard Lancaster was a
very brief one. It simply asked the young gentleman to come to
Broadstone, with bad news or good news, or without any news at all. It
was absolutely necessary that the writer should see him, and in order
that there might be no delay she sent a conveyance for him. Moreover,
she added, it would give her great pleasure if Mr. Lancaster would come
prepared to spend a couple of days at her house. She felt sure good
Captain Asher would spare him for that short time. She believed that at
this moment more gentlemen were needed at Broadstone, and, although she
did not go on to say that she thought Dick was not having a fair chance
at this very important crisis, that is what she expected the young man
to understand.

Just before luncheon, at the time when Claude Locker might have been
urging his suit had he been less kind-hearted and generous, Olive found
an opportunity to say a few words to Mrs. Easterfield.

"A capital idea has come into my head," she said. "What do you think of
holding a competitive examination among these young men?"

"More stuff, and more nonsense!" ejaculated Mrs. Easterfield. "I never
knew any one to trifle with serious subjects as you are trifling with
your future."

"I am not trifling," said Olive. "Of course, I don't mean that I should
hold an examination, but that you should. You know that parents--foreign
parents, I mean--make all sorts of examinations of the qualifications
and merits of candidates for the hands of their daughters, and I should
be very grateful if you would be at least that much of a mother to me."

"No examination would be needed," said the other quickly; "I should
decide upon Mr. Lancaster without the necessity of any questions or
deliberations."

"But he is not a candidate," said Olive; "he has been ruled out.
However," she added with a little laugh, "nothing can be done just now,
for they have not all entered themselves in the competition; Mr.
Hemphill has not proposed yet."

At that instant the rest of the family joined them on their way to
luncheon.

The meal was scarcely over when Olive disappeared up-stairs, but soon
came down attired in a blue sailor suit, which she had not before worn
at Broadstone, and although the ladies of that house had been astonished
at the number of costumes this navy girl carried in her unostentatious
baggage, this was a new surprise to them.

"Mr. Hemphill and I are going boating," said Olive to Mrs. Easterfield.

"Olive!" exclaimed the other.

"What is there astonishing about it?" asked the girl. "I have been out
boating with Mr. Locker, and it did not amaze you. You need not be
afraid; Mr. Hemphill says he has had a good deal of practise in rowing,
and if he does not understand the management of a boat I am sure I do.
It is only for an hour, and we shall be ready for anything that the rest
of you are going to do this afternoon."

With this, away she went, skipping over the rocks and grass, down to the
river's edge, followed by Mr. Hemphill, who could scarcely believe he
was in a world of common people and common things, while he, in turn,
was followed by the mental anathemas of a poet and a diplomat.




_CHAPTER XIX_

_The Captain and Dick Lancaster desert the Toll-Gate._


When Captain Asher, in an angry mood, left his young friend and guest
and went out into his barnyard and his fields in order to quiet his soul
by the consideration of agricultural subjects, he met with but little
success. He looked at his pigs, but he did not notice their plump
condition; he glanced at his two cows, cropping the grass in the little
meadow, but it did not impress him that they also were in fine
condition; nor did he care whether the pasture were good or not. He
looked at this; and he looked at that; and then he folded his arms and
looked at the distant mountains. Suddenly he turned on his heel, walked
straight to the stable, harnessed his mare to the buggy, and, without
saying a word to anybody, drove out of the gate, and on to Glenford.

Dick Lancaster, who was in the arbor, looked in amazement after the
captain's departing buggy, and old Jane, with tears in her eyes, came
out and spoke to him.

"Isn't this dreadful" she said to him. "Supper with that woman and there
all night, and back again as soon as he can get off this mornin'!"

"Perhaps he is not going to her house," Dick suggested. "He may have
business in town which he forgot yesterday."

"If he'd had it he'd forgot it," replied the old woman. "But he hadn't
none. He's gone to Maria Port's, and he may bring her back with him,
married tight and fast, for all you or me knows. It would be just like
his sailor fashion. When the captain's got anything to do he just does
it sharp and quick."

"I don't believe that," said Dick. "If he had had any such intention as
that he certainly would have mentioned it to you or to me."

The good woman shook her head. "When an old man marries a girl," she
said, "she just leads him wherever she wants him to go, and he gives up
everything to her, and when an old man marries a tough and seasoned and
smoked old maid like Maria Port, she just drives him wherever she wants
him to go, and he hasn't nothin' to say about it. It looks as if she
told him to come in this mornin', and he's gone. It may be for a
weddin', or it may be for somethin' else, but whatever it is, it'll be
her way and not his straight on to the end of the chapter."

Dick had nothing to answer. He was very much afraid that old Jane knew
what she was talking about, and his mind was occupied with trying to
decide what he, individually, ought to do about it. Old Jane was now
obliged to go to the toll-gate to attend to a traveler, but when she
came back she took occasion to say a few more words.

"It's hard on me, sir," she said, "at my age to make a change. I've
lived at this house, and I've took toll at that gate ever since I was a
girl, long before the captain came here, and I've been with him a long
time. My people used to own this house, but they all died, and when the
place was sold and the captain bought it, he heard about me, and he said
I should always have charge of the old toll-gate when he wasn't
attendin' to it himself, just the same as when my father was alive and
was toll-gate keeper, and I was helpin' him. But I've got to go now, and
where I'm goin' to is more'n I know. But I'd rather go to the county
poorhouse than stay here, or anywhere else, with Maria Port. She's a
regular boa-constrictor, that woman is! She's twisted herself around
people before this and squeezed the senses out of them; and that's
exactly what she's doin' with the captain. If she could come here to
live and bring her old father, and get him to sell the house in town and
put the money in bank, and then if she could worry her husband and her
father both to death, and work things so she'd be a widow with plenty of
money and a good house and as much farm land as she wanted, and a
toll-gate where she could set all day and take toll and give back lies
and false witness as change, she'd be the happiest woman on earth."

It had been long since old Jane had said as much at any one time to any
one person, but her mind was stirred. Her life was about to change, and
the future was very black to her.

When dinner was ready the captain had not yet returned, and Dick ate his
meal by himself. He was now beginning to feel used to this sort of
thing. He had scarcely finished, and gone down to the garden-gate to
look once more over the road toward Glenford, when the man in the buggy
arrived, and he received Mrs. Easterfield's letter.

He lost no moments in making up his mind. He would go to Broadstone, of
course, and he did not think it at all necessary to stand on ceremony
with the captain. The latter had gone off and left him without making
any statement whatever, but he would do better, and he wrote a note
explaining the state of affairs. As he was leaving old Jane came to bid
him good-by.

"I don't know," said she, "that you will find me here when you come
back. The fact of it is I don't know nothin'. But one thing's certain,
if she's here I ain't, and if she's too high and mighty to take toll in
her honeymoon, the captain'll have to do it himself, or let 'em pass
through free."

Mrs. Easterfield was on the lawn when Lancaster arrived, and in answer
to the involuntary glance with which Dick's eyes swept the surrounding
space, even while he was shaking hands with her, she said: "No, she is
not here. She has gone boating, and so you must come and tell me
everything, and then we can decide what is best to tell her."

For an instant Dick's soul demurred. If he told Olive anything he would
tell her all he knew, and exactly what had happened. But he would not
lose faith in this noble woman who was going to help him with Olive if
she could. So they sat down, side by side, and he told her everything he
knew about Captain Asher and Miss Port.

"It does look very much as if he were going to marry the woman," said
Mrs. Easterfield. Then she sat silent and looked upon the ground, a
frown upon her face.

Dick was also silent, and his countenance was clouded. "Poor Olive," he
thought, "it is hard that this new trouble should come upon her just at
this time."

But Mrs. Easterfield said in her heart: "Poor fellow, how little you
know what has come upon you! The woman who has turned her uncle from
Olive has turned Olive from you."

"Well," said the lady at length, "do you think it is worth while to say
anything to her about it? She has already surmised the state of affairs,
and, so far as I can see, you have nothing of importance to tell her."

"Perhaps not," said Dick, "but as she sent me on a mission I want to
make known to her the result of it so far as there has been any result.
It will be very unpleasant, of course--it will be even painful--but I
wish to do it all the same."

"That is to say," said Mrs. Easterfield with a smile that was not very
cheerful, "you want to be with her, to look at her and to speak to her,
no matter how much it may pain her or you to do it."

"That's it," answered Dick.

Mrs. Easterfield sat and reflected. She very much liked this young man,
and, considering herself as his friend, were there not some things she
ought to tell him? She concluded that there were such things.

"Mr. Lancaster," she said, "have you noticed that there are other young
men in love with Miss Asher?"

"I know there is one," said Dick, "for he told me so himself."

"That was Claude Locker?" said she with interest.

"And he promised," continued Dick, "that if he failed he would do all he
could to help me. I can not say that this is really for love of me, for
his avowed object is to prevent Mr. Du Brant from getting her. We
assumed that he was her lover, although I do not know that there is any
real ground for it."

"There is very good ground for it," said she, "for he has already
proposed to her. What do you think of that?"

"It makes no difference to me," said Dick; "that is, if he has not been
accepted. What I want is to find myself warranted in telling Miss Asher
how I feel toward her; it does not matter to me how the rest of the
world feels."

"Then there is another," said Mrs. Easterfield, "with whom she is now on
the river--Mr. Hemphill. He is in love with her; and as he can not stay
here very long, I think he will soon propose."

"I can not help it," said Dick; "I love her, and the great object of my
life just at present is to tell her so. You said you would help me, and
I hope you will not withdraw from that promise."

"No, indeed," said she, "but I do not know her as well as I thought I
did. But here she comes now, and without the young man. I hope she has
not drowned him!"

Without heeding anything that had just been said to him Dick kept his
eyes fixed upon the sparkling girl who now approached them. Every step
she made was another link in his chain; Mrs. Easterfield glanced at him
and knew this. She pitied him for what he had to tell her now, and more
for what he might have to hear from her at another time. But Olive saved
Dick from any present ordeal. She stepped up to him and offered him her
hand.

"I do not wonder, Mr. Lancaster," she said, "that you did not want to
come back and tell me your doleful story, but as I know what it is, we
need not say anything about it now, except that I am ever so much
obliged to you for all your kindness to me. And now I am going to ask
another favor. Won't you let me speak to Mrs. Easterfield a few
moments?"

As soon as they were seated, with the door shut, Olive began.

"Well," said she, "he has proposed."

"Mr. Hemphill!" exclaimed Mrs. Easterfield.

"Rupert," Olive answered, "yes, it is truly Rupert who proposed to me."

"I declare," cried Mrs. Easterfield, "you come to me and tell me this as
if it were a piece of glad news. Yesterday, and even this morning, you
were plunged in grief, and now your eyes shine as if you were positively
happy."

"I have told you my aim and object in life," said the girl. "I am trying
to do something, and to do it soon, and everything is going on smoothly.
And as to being happy, I tell you, Mrs. Easterfield, there is no woman
alive who could help being made happy by such a declaration as I have
just received. No matter what answer she gave him, she would be bound
to be happy."

"Most other women would not have let him make it," said Mrs. Easterfield
a little severely.

"There is something in that," said Olive, "but they would not have the
object in life I have. I may be unduly exalted, but you would not wonder
at it if you had seen him and heard him. Mrs. Easterfield, that man
loves me exactly as I used to love him, and he has told me his love just
as I would have told him mine if I could have carried out the wish of my
heart. His eyes glowed, his frame shook with the ardor of his passion.
Two or three times I had to tell him that if he did not trim boat we
should be upset. I never saw anything like his impassioned vehemence. It
reminded me of Salvini. I never was loved like that before."

"And what answer did you make to him?" asked Mrs. Easterfield, her voice
trembling.

"I did not make him any. It would not have been fair to the others or to
myself to do that. I shall not swerve from my purpose, but I shall not
be rash."

Mrs. Easterfield rose suddenly and stepped to the open window; she could
not sit still a moment longer; she needed air. "Olive," she said, "this
is mad and wicked folly in you, and it is impertinent in him, no matter
how much you encouraged him. I would like to send him back to his desk
this minute. He has no right to come to his employer's house and behave
in this manner."

Olive did not get angry. "He is not impertinent," said she. "He knows
nothing in this world but that I once loved him, and that now he loves
me. Employer and employee are nothing to him. I don't believe he would
go if you told him to, even if you could do such a thing, which I don't
believe you would, for, of course, you would think of me as well as of
him."

"Olive Asher," cried Mrs. Easterfield in a voice which was almost a
wail, "do you mean to say that you are to be considered in this matter,
that for a moment you think of marrying this man?"

"Yes," said Olive; "I do think of it, and the more I think of it the
better I think of it. He is a good man; you have told me that yourself;
and I can feel that he is good. I know he loves me. There can be no
mistake about his words and his eyes. I feel as I never felt toward any
other man, that I might become attached to him. And in my opinion a real
attachment is the foundation of love, and you must never forget that I
once loved him." The girl now stepped close to Mrs. Easterfield. "I am
sorry to see those tears," she said; "I did not come here to make you
unhappy."

"But you have made me very unhappy," said the elder lady, "and I do not
think I can talk any more about this now."

When Olive had gone Mrs. Easterfield hurried down-stairs in search of
Lancaster. She did not care what any one might think of her
unconventional eagerness; she wanted to find him, and she soon
succeeded. He was sitting in the shade with a book, which, when she
approached him, she did not believe he was reading.

"Yes," said she, as he started to his feet in evident concern, "I have
been crying, and there is no use in trying to conceal it. Of course, it
is about Olive, but I can not confide in you now, and I do not know that
I have any right to do so, anyway. But I came here to beg you most
earnestly not to propose to Miss Asher, no matter how good an
opportunity you may have, no matter how much you want to do so, no
matter how much hope may spring up in your heart."

"Do you mean," said Dick, "that I must never speak to her? Am I too
late? Is she lost to me?"

"Not at all," said she, "you are not too late, but you may be too early.
She is not lost to anybody, but if you should speak to her before I tell
you to she will certainly be lost to you."




_CHAPTER XX_

_Mr. Locker determines to rush the Enemy's Position._


The party at Broadstone was not in what might be called a congenial
condition. There were among them elements of unrest which prevented that
assimilation which is necessary to social enjoyment. Even the ordinarily
placid Mr. Fox was dissatisfied. The trouble with him was--although he
did not admit it--that he missed the company of Miss Asher. He had found
her most agreeable and inspiriting, but now things had changed, and he
did not seem to have any opportunity for the lively chats of a few days
before. He remarked to his wife that he thought Broadstone was getting
very dull, and he should be rather glad when the time came for them to
leave. Mrs. Fox was not of his opinion; she enjoyed the state of affairs
more than she had done when her husband had been better pleased. There
was something going on which she did not understand, and she wanted to
find out what it was. It concerned Miss Asher and one of the young men,
but which one she could not decide. In any case it troubled Mrs.
Easterfield, and that was interesting.

Claude Locker seemed to be a changed man; he no longer made jokes or
performed absurdities. He had become wonderfully vigilant, and seemed to
be one who continually bided his time. He bided it so much that he was
of very little use as a member of the social circle.

Mr. Du Brant was also biding his time, but he did not make the fact
evident. He was very vigilant also, but was very quiet, and kept himself
in the background. He had seen Olive and Mr. Hemphill go out in the
boat, but he determined totally to ignore that interesting occurrence.
The moment he had an opportunity he would speak to Olive again, and the
existence of other people did not concern him.

Mr. Hemphill was walking by the river; Olive had not allowed him to come
to the house with her, for his face was so radiant with the ecstasy of
not having been discarded by her that she did not wish him to be seen.
From her window Mrs. Easterfield saw this young man on his return from
his promenade, and she knew it would not be many minutes before he would
reach the house. She also saw the diplomat, who was glaring across the
grounds at some one, probably Mr. Locker, who, not unlikely, was glaring
back at him. She had come up-stairs to do some writing, but now she put
down her pen and called to her secretary.

"Miss Raleigh," said she, "it has been a good while since you have done
anything for me."

"Indeed it has," said the other with a sigh.

"But I want you to do something this minute. It is strictly confidential
business. I want you to go down on the lawn, or any other place where
Miss Asher may be, and make yourself _mal Г  propos_. I am busy now, but
I will relieve you before very long. Can you do that? Do you
understand?"

The aspect of the secretary underwent a total change. From a dull,
heavy-eyed woman she became an intent, an eager emissary. Her hands
trembled with the intensity of her desire to meddle with the affairs of
others.

"Of course I understand," she exclaimed, "and I can do it. You mean you
don't want any of those young men to get a chance to speak to Miss
Asher. Do you include Mr. Lancaster? Or shall I only keep off the
others?"

"I include all of them," said Mrs. Easterfield. "Don't let any of them
have a chance to speak to her until I can come down. And hurry! Here is
one coming now."

Hurrying down-stairs, the secretary glanced into the library. There she
saw Mrs. Fox in one armchair, and Olive in another, both reading. In the
hall were the two little girls, busily engaged in harnessing two small
chairs to a large armchair by means of a ball of pink yarn. Outside,
about a hundred yards away, she saw Mr. Hemphill irresolutely
approaching the house. Miss Raleigh's mind, frequently dormant, was very
brisk and lively when she had occasion to waken it. She made a dive
toward the children.

"Dear little ones," she cried, "don't you want to come out under the
trees and have the good Mr. Hemphill tell you a story? I know he wants
to tell you one, and it is about a witch and two pussy-cats and a
kangaroo. Come along. He is out there waiting for us." Down dropped the
ball of yarn, and with exultant cries each little girl seized an
outstretched hand of the secretary, and together they ran over the grass
to meet the good Mr. Hemphill.

Of course he was obliged to want to tell them a story; they expected it
of him, and they were his employer's children. To be sure he had on mind
something very practical and sensible he wished to say to Miss Olive,
which had come to him during his solitary walk, and which he did not
believe she would object to hearing, although he had said so much to her
quite recently. As soon as he should begin to speak she would know that
this was something she ought to know. It was about his mother, who had
an income of her own, and did not in the least depend upon her son. Miss
Olive would certainly agree with him that it was proper for him to tell
her this.

But the little girls seized his hands and led him away to a bench,
where, having seated him almost forcibly, each climbed upon a knee. The
good Mr. Hemphill sent a furtive glare after Miss Raleigh, who, with
that smile of gentle gratification which comes to one after having just
done a good deed to another, sauntered slowly away.

"Don't come back again," cried out the older of the little girls. "He
was put out in the last story, and we want this to be a long one. And
remember, Mr, Rupert, it is to be about a witch and two pussy-cats--"

"And a kangaroo," added the other.

At the front door the secretary met Miss Asher, just emerging. "Isn't
that a pretty picture" she said, pointing to the group under the trees.

Olive looked at them and smiled. "It is beautiful," she said; "a
regular family composition. I wish I had a kodak."

"Oh, that would never do!" exclaimed Miss Raleigh. "He is just as
sensitive as he can be, and, of course, it's natural. And the dear
little things are so glad to get him to themselves so that they can have
one of the long, long stories they like so much. May I ask what that is
you are working, Miss Asher?"

"It is going to be what they call a nucleus," said Olive, showing a
little piece of fancy work. "You first crochet this, and then its
ultimate character depends on what you may put around it. It may be a
shawl, or a table cover, or even an apron, if you like crocheted aprons.
I learned the stitch last winter. Would you like me to show it to you?"

"I should like it above all things," said the secretary. And together
they walked to a rustic bench quite away from the story-telling group.
"So far I have done nothing but nucleuses," said Olive, as they sat
down. "I put them away when they are finished, and then I suppose some
time I shall take up one and make it into something."

"Like those pastry shells," said Miss Raleigh, "which can be laid away
and which you can fill up with preserves or jam whenever you want a pie.
How many of these have you, Miss Asher?"

"When this is finished there will be four," said Olive.

At some distance, and near the garden, Dick Lancaster, strolling
eastward, encountered Claude Locker, strolling westward.

"Hello!" cried Locker. "I am glad to see you. Brought your baggage with
you this time, I see. That means you are going to stay, of course."

"A couple of days," replied Dick.

"Well, a man can do a lot in that time, and you may have something to
do, but I am not sure. No, sir," continued Locker, "I am not sure. I am
on the point of making a demonstration in force. But the enemy is always
presenting some new force. By enemy you understand me to mean that which
I adore above all else in the world, but which must be attacked, and
that right soon if her defenses are to be carried. Step this way a
little, and look over there. Do you see that Raleigh woman sitting on a
bench with her? Well, now, if I had not had such a beastly generous
disposition I might be sitting on that bench this minute. I was deceived
by a feint of the opposing forces this morning. I don't mean she
deceived me. I did it myself. Although I had the right by treaty to
march in upon her, I myself offered to establish a truce in order that
she might bury her dead. I did not know who had been killed, but it
looked as if there were losses of some kind. But it was a false alarm.
The dead must have turned up only missing, and she was as lively as a
cricket at luncheon, and went out in a boat with that tailor's
model--sixteen dollars and forty-eight cents for the entire suit
ready-made; or twenty-three dollars made to order."

Dick smiled a little, but his soul rebelled within him. He regretted
that he had given his promise to Mrs. Easterfield. What he wanted to do
that moment was to go over to Captain Asher's niece and ask her to take
a walk with him. What other man had a better right to speak to her than
he had? But he respected his word; it would be very hard to break a
promise made to Mrs. Easterfield; and he stood with his hands in his
pockets, and his brows knit.

"Now, I tell you what I am going to do," said Locker. "I am going to
wait a little while--a very little while--and then I shall bounce over
my earthworks, and rush her position. It is the only way to do it, and I
shall be up and at her with cold steel. And now I will tell you what you
must do. Just you hold yourself in reserve; and, if I am routed, you
charge. You'd better do it if you know what's good for you, for that
Austrian's over there pulverizing his teeth and swearing in French
because that Raleigh woman doesn't get up and go. Now, I won't keep you
any longer, but don't go far away. I can't talk any more, for I've got
to have every eye fixed upon the point of attack."

Dick looked at the animated face of his companion, and began to ask
himself if the moment had not arrived when even a promise made to Mrs.
Easterfield might be disregarded. Should he consent to allow his fate to
depend upon the fortunes of Mr. Locker? He scorned the notion. It would
be impossible for the girl who had talked so sweetly, so earnestly, so
straight from her heart, when he had met her on the shunpike, to marry
such a mountebank as this fellow, generous as he might be with that
which could never belong to him. As to the diplomat, he did not
condescend to bestow a thought upon such a black-pointed little
foreigner.




_CHAPTER XXI_

_Miss Raleigh enjoys a Rare Privilege._


Miss Raleigh was very attentive to the instructions given her by Miss
Asher, and while she exhibited the fashion of the new stitch Olive
reflected.

"I wonder," she said to herself, "if Mrs. Easterfield has done this. It
looks very much like it, and if she did I am truly obliged to her. There
is nothing I want so much now as a rest, and I didn't want to stay in
the house either. Miss Raleigh," said she, suddenly changing the
subject, "were you ever in love?"

The secretary started. "What do you mean by that?" she asked.

"I don't mean anything," said Olive. "I simply wanted to know."

"It is a queer question," said Miss Raleigh, her face changing to
another shade of sallowness.

"I know that," said Olive quickly, "but the answers to queer questions
are always so much more interesting than those to any others. Don't you
think so?"

"Yes, they are," said Miss Raleigh thoughtfully, "but they are generally
awfully hard to get. I have tried it myself."

"Then you ought to have a fellow feeling for me," said Olive.

"Well," said the other, looking steadfastly at her companion, "if you
will promise to keep it all to yourself forever, I don't mind telling
you that I was once in love. Would you like me to tell you who I was in
love with?"

"Yes," said Olive, "if you are willing to tell me."

"Oh, I am perfectly willing," said the secretary. "It was Mr. Hemphill."

Olive turned suddenly and looked at her in amazement.

"Yes, it was Mr. Hemphill over there," said the other, speaking very
tranquilly, as if the subject were of no importance. "You see, I have
been living with the Easterfields for a long time, and in the winter we
see a good deal of Mr. Hemphill. He has to come to the house on
business, and often takes meals. He is Mr. Easterfield's private and
confidential secretary. And, somehow or other, seeing him so often, and
sometimes being his partner at cards when two were needed to make up a
game, I forgot that I was older than he, and I actually fell in love
with him. You see he has a good heart, Miss Asher; anybody could tell
that from his way with children; and I have noticed that bachelors are
often nicer with children than fathers are."

"And he?" asked Olive.

Miss Raleigh laughed a little laugh. "Oh, I did all the loving," she
answered. "He never reciprocated the least little bit, and I often
wondered why I adored him as much as I did. He was handsome, and he was
good, and he had excellent taste; he was thoroughly trustworthy in his
relations to the family, and I believe he would be equally so in all
relations of life; but all that did not account for my unconquerable
ardor, which was caused by a certain something which you know, Miss
Asher, we can't explain."

Olive tried hard not to allow any emotion to show itself in her face,
but she did not altogether succeed. "And you still--" said she.

"No, I don't," interrupted Miss Raleigh. "I love him no longer. There
came a time when all my fire froze. I discovered that there was--"

"I say, Miss Asher--" it was the voice of Claude Locker.

Olive looked around at him. "Well?" said she.

"Perhaps you have not noticed," said he, "that the tennis ground is now
in the shade, and if you don't mind walking that way--" He said a good
deal more which Miss Raleigh did not believe, understanding the young
man thoroughly, and which Olive did not hear. Her mind was very busy
with what she had just heard, which made a great impression on her. She
did not know whether she was affronted, or hurt, or merely startled.

Here was a man who loved her, a man she had loved, and one about whom
she had been questioning herself as to the possibility of her loving him
again. And here was a woman, a dyspeptic, unwholesome spinster, who had
just said she had loved him. If Miss Raleigh had loved this man, how
could she, Olive, love him? There was something repugnant about it which
she did not attempt to understand. It went beyond reason. She felt it
to be an actual relief to look up at Claude Locker, and to listen to
what he was saying.

"You mean," said she presently, "that you would like Miss Raleigh and me
to come with you and play tennis."

"I did not know Miss Raleigh played," he answered, "but I thought
perhaps--"

"Oh, no," said Olive. "I would not think of such a thing. In fact, Miss
Raleigh and I are engaged. We are very busy about some important work."

Mr. Locker gazed at the crocheted nucleus with an air of the loftiest
disdain. "Of course, of course," said he, "but you really oblige me,
Miss Asher, to speak very plainly and frankly and to say that I really
do not care about playing tennis, but that I want to speak to you on a
most important subject, which, for reasons that I will explain, must be
spoken of immediately. So, if Miss Raleigh will be kind enough to
postpone the little matter you have on hand--"

Olive smiled and shook her head. "No, indeed, sir," she said; "I would
not hurt a lady's feelings in that way, and moreover, I would not allow
her to hurt her own feelings. It would hurt your feelings, Miss Raleigh,
wouldn't it, to be sent away like a child who is not wanted?"

"Yes," said the secretary, "I think it would."

Mr. Locker listened in amazement. He had not thought the mature maiden
had the nerve to say that.

"Then again," said Olive, "this isn't the time for you to talk business
with me, and you should not disturb me at this hour."

"Oh," said Locker, bringing down the forefinger of his right hand upon
the palm of his left, "that is a point, a very essential point. I
voluntarily surrendered the period of discourse which you assigned to me
for a reason which I now believe did not exist, and this is only an
assertion of the rights vested in me by you."

Miss Raleigh listened very attentively to these remarks, but could not
imagine what they meant.

Olive looked at him graciously. "Yes," she said, "you are very generous,
but your period for discourse, as you call it, will have to be
postponed."

"But it can't be postponed," he answered. "If I could see you alone I
could soon explain that to you. There are certain reasons why I must
speak now."

"I can't help it," said Olive. "I am not going to leave Miss Raleigh,
and I am sure she does not want to leave me, so if you are obliged to
speak you must speak before her."

Mr. Locker gazed from one to the other of the two ladies who sat before
him; each of them wore a gentle but determined expression. He addressed
the secretary.

"Miss Raleigh," said he, "if you understood the reason for my strong
desire to speak in private with Miss Asher, perhaps you would respect it
and give me the opportunity I ask for. I am here to make a proposition
of marriage to this lady, and it is absolutely necessary that I make it
without loss of time. Do you desire me to make it in your presence?"

"I should like it very much," said Miss Raleigh.

Mr. Locker gave her a look of despair, and turned to Olive. "Would you
permit that?" he asked.

"If it is absolutely necessary," she said, "I suppose I shall have to
permit it."

Mr. Locker had the soul of a lion in his somewhat circumscribed body,
and he was not to be recklessly dared to action.

"Very well, then," said he, "I shall proceed as if we were alone, and I
hope, Miss Raleigh, you will at least see fit to consider yourself in a
strictly confidential position."

"Indeed I shall," she replied; "not one word shall ever--"

"I hope not," interrupted Claude, "and I will add that if I should ever
be accidentally present when a gentleman is about to propose to you,
Miss Raleigh, I shall heap coals of fire upon your head by
instantaneously withdrawing."

The secretary was about to thank him, but Olive interrupted. "Now,
Claude Locker," said she, "what can you possibly have to say to me that
you have not said before?"

"A good deal, Miss Asher, a good deal, although I don't wonder you
suppose that no man could say more to you of his undying affection than
I have already said. But, since I last spoke on the subject, I have been
greatly impressed by the fact that I have not said enough about myself;
that I have not made you understand me as I really am. I know very well
that most people, and I suppose that at some time you have been among
them, look upon me as a very frivolous young man, and not one to whom
the right sort of a girl should give herself in marriage. But that is a
mistake. I am as much to be depended upon as anybody you ever met. My
apparently whimsical aspect is merely the outside--my shell, marked off
in queer designs with variegated colors--but within that shell I am as
domestic, as sober, and as surely to be found where I am expected to be
as any turtle. This may seem a queer figure, but it strikes me as a very
good one. When I am wanted I am there. You can always depend upon me."

There was not a smile upon the face of either woman as he spoke. They
were listening earnestly, and with the deepest interest. Miss Raleigh's
eyes sparkled, and Olive seemed to be most seriously considering this
new aspect in which Mr. Locker was endeavoring to place himself.

"Perhaps you may think," Claude continued, "that you would not desire
turtle-like qualities in a husband, you who are so bright, so bounding,
so much like a hare, but I assure you, that is just the companion who
would suit you. All day you might skip among the flowers, and in the
fields, and wherever you were, you would always know where I was--making
a steady bee-line for home; and you would know that I would be there to
welcome you when you arrived."

"That is very pretty!" said Miss Raleigh. And then she quickly added:
"Excuse me for making a remark."

"Now, Miss Asher," continued Locker, "I have tried, very imperfectly, I
know, to make you see me as I really am, and I do hope you can put an
end to this suspense which is keeping me in a nervous tingle. I can not
sleep at night, and all day I am thinking what you will say when you do
decide. You need not be afraid to speak out before Miss Raleigh. She is
in with us now, and she can't get out. I would not press you for an
answer at this moment, but there are reasons which I can not say
anything about without meddling with other people's business. But my
business with you is the happiness of my life, and I feel that I can not
longer endure having it momentarily jeopardized."

At the conclusion of this speech a faint color actually stole into Miss
Raleigh's face, and she clasped her thin hands in the intensity of her
approval.