 I came into breakfast with Reuben, feeling that Dappel had been more of a gentleman than I had, for he had treated the maiden with gentleness and courtesy, while I had thought first of myself. She looked up at me as I entered so humbly and deprecatingly that I wished that I had bitten my tongue out rather than have spoken so harshly. Straightforward Reuben went to the girl and holding out his hand said, Emily, I want to ask thy forgiveness. I've been a bear toward thee. Thee's the bravest girl I ever saw. No country girl would have dared to do what thee did. I didn't need to have Richard lecture me and tell me that, but I thought thee was kind of down on Richard, and I've a way of standing by my friends. With a face like a peony, she turned and took both of the boy's hands as she said warmly. Thank you, Reuben. I take a much greater risk to win your friendship, and if you'll give it to me I'll be very proud of it. You are going to make a genuine man. Yes, Reuben, thee'll make a man, said his mother with a low laugh. Thee is as blind as a man already. I looked at her instantly, but she dropped her eyes demerly to her plate. I saw that Mr. Hearn was watching me, and so did not look at Ms. Warren. Well, he said irritably, I don't like such escapades, and Emily, if anything of the kind happens again, I'll have to take you to a safer place. His face was flushed, but hers was very pale. It won't happen again, she said quietly without looking up. Richard, said Mr. Yocome as if glad to change the subject. I've got to drive across the country on some business. I will have to be gone all day. Would thee like to go with me? Certainly, I'll go with you to the ends of the earth. That would be too far away from mother. Thee always pulls me back very soon, doesn't he? Well, I know thee comes, replied his wife. Don't tire Richard out, he isn't strong yet. Richard, said Mr. Yocome as we were driving up a long hill. I want to congratulate thee on thy course toward Emily Warren. Thee's a strong-minded, sensible man. I saw that thee was greatly taken with her at first, and no wonder, besides, I couldn't help hearing what thee said went out of thy mind. Mother and I kept the children away then, and Dr. Bates had the wink from me to be discreet, but thee's been a sensible man since thee got up, and put the whole thing away from thee very bravely. Mr. Yocome, I won't play the hypocrite with you. I love her better than my own soul. Thee does, he said, in strong surprise. Yes, and I ought to have gone away long ago, I fear. How could I see her as she appeared this morning and not almost worship her? The old gentleman gave a long, low whistle. I guess mother meant me when she said men were blind. I was silent, not daring, of course, to say that I hoped she meant me, but what I had heard and seen that morning had done much to confirm my hope. Well, said the old gentleman, I can scarcely blame thee since she is what she is, and I can't help saying, too, that I think thee would make her happier than that man can with all his money. I don't think he appreciates her. She will be only a part of his great possessions. Well, Mr. Yocome, I've but these requests to make. Keep this to yourself, and don't interpose any obstacles to my going next Monday. Don't worry about me, I'll keep up, and a man who will have to work as I must won't have time to mow. I won't play the weak fool, for I'd rather have your respect and Mrs. Yocome's than all Mr. Hearn's millions, and Ms. Warren's respect is absolutely essential to me. Then, thee thinks that mother and, and Emily know, who can hide anything from such women, they look through us as if we were glass. Mother's sermon meant more for thee than I thought. Yes, I felt as if it were preached for me. I hope I may be the better for it someday, but I've too big a fight on my hands now to do much else. You will now understand why I wish to get away so soon, and why I can't come back to life gained a strength that is not bodily. I wouldn't like you to misunderstand me after your marvelous kindness, and so I'm frank. Besides, you're the kind of man that would thaw an icicle. Your nature is large and gentle, and I don't mind letting you know. Richard, we're getting very frank, and I'm going to be more so. I don't like the way Mr. Hearn sits and looks at Ada. Oh, you'd need to worry about him, Mr. Hearn's respectability itself. But he's wonderfully fond of good things and pretty things. His great house on Fifth Avenue is full of them, and he looks at Ms. Ada as he would at a fine oil painting. Thee speaks charitably of him under the circumstances. I ought to try to do him justice, since I hate him so cordially. Well, said the old gentleman laughing, that's a new way of putting it. Thee's honest, Richard. If I wasn't, I'd have no business in your society. I'm worried about Emily, broke out my companion. She was a little thin and worn from her long session of work when she came to us lately. But the first week she picked up daily, while Thee was so sick, she seemed more worried than anyone. And I had much adieu to get her to eat enough to keep a bird alive, but it's been worse for the last two weeks. She has seemed much brighter lately for some reason, but the flesh just seems to drop off of her. She takes a wonderful hold of my feelings and I can't help troubling about her. Mr. Yocome, your words torture me, I cried. It is not my imagination, then. Can she love that man? Well, she has a queer way of showing it, but it is one of those things that an outsider can't meddle with. I was moody and silent the rest of the day, and Mr. Yocome had the tact to leave me much to myself, but I was not under the necessity of acting my poor farce before him. The evening was quite well advanced when we reached the farmhouse, but Mrs. Yocome had a royal supper for us, and she said everyone had insisted on waiting till we returned. Mr. Hearn had quite recovered his complacency, and I gathered from this fact that Ms. Warren had been very devoted. Such was his usual aspect when everything was pleasing to him. But she who had added so much to his life had seemingly drained her own, for she looked so pale and thin that my heart ached. There were dark lines under her eyes, and she appeared exceedingly worried, as if the day had been one long effort. She can't love him, I thought. It's impossible, confound him, he's the blindest man of us all. Oh, that I had her insight, that I might unravel this snarl at once, for it would kill me to see her looking like that much longer. What's the use of my going away? I've been away all day, she has had the light of his smiling countenance uninterruptedly, and see how warned she is. Can it be that my hateful words hurt her, and that she is grieving about me only? It's impossible. Unselfish regard for another could not go so far if her own heart was at rest. She is doing her best to laugh and talk and to seem cheerful, but her acting now is poorer than mine ever was. She is tired out. She seems like a soldier who is fighting mechanically, after spirit, courage and strength are gone. Mr. Hearn informed Mr. Yocom that important business would require his presence in New York for a few days. It's an enterprise that involves immense interest on both sides of the ocean, and there's to be quite a gathering of capitalists. Your paper will be full of it before very long, Mr. Morton. I'm always glad to hear of any grist for our mill, I said. Mrs. Yocom, please excuse me, I'm selfish enough to prefer the cool piazza. But he hasn't eaten anything. Oh, yes I have, and I made a huge dinner, I replied carelessly, and sauntered out and lighted a cigar. Instead of coming out on the piazza as I hoped, Ms. Warren bade Mr. Hearn good night in the hall, and pleading fatigue went to her room. She was down to see him off in the morning, and at his request accompanied him to the depot. I was reading on the piazza when she returned, and I hastened to assist her from the rock away. Ms. Warren, I exclaimed in deep solicitude, this long hot ride has been too much for you. Perhaps it has, she replied briefly without meeting my eyes. I'll go and rest. She pleaded a headache and did not come down to dinner. Mrs. Yocom returned from her room with a troubled face. I had resolved that I would not seek to see her alone while Mr. Hearn was away, and so resumed my long rambles. When I returned about supper time, she was sitting on the piazza watching Adela and Zilla playing with their dolls. She did not look up as I took a seat on the steps not far away. At last I began. Can I tell you that I am very sorry you have been ill today? It wasn't dangerous, as country people say, she replied a little brusquely. You look as if Dapple might run over you now. A kitten might run over me, she replied briefly, still keeping her eyes on the children. By and by, she asked, why do you look at me so intently, Mr. Morton? I beg your pardon. That's not answering my question. Suppose I deny that I was looking at you, you have not condescended to glance at me yet. You had better not deny it. Well then, to tell you the truth, as I find I always must, I was looking for some trace of mercy. I was thinking whether I could venture to ask forgiveness for being more of a brute than Dapple yesterday. Have your words troubled you very much? They have indeed. Well, they've troubled me too. You think I'm heartless, Mr. Morton, and she arose and went to her piano. I followed her instantly. Won't you forgive me? I asked, I've repented. Oh, nonsense, Mr. Morton, you know as well as I do that I'm the one to ask forgiveness. No, I don't. I said in a low passionate tone. I fear you are grieving about what you can't help. Can't help, she repeated, flushing. Yes, my being here makes you unhappy. If I knew it, I'd go tonight. And do you think that out of sight would be out of mind? She said with a strange smile. Great God, I don't know what to think. I know that I would do anything under heaven to make you look as you did the first night I saw you. Do I look so badly? You look as if you might take wings and leave us at any moment. Then I wouldn't trouble you any more. Then my trouble would be without remedy. Marry Mr. Hearn, marry him tomorrow if you wish. I assure you that if you will be honestly and truly happy I won't mope a day. I'll become the jolliest old bachelor in New York. I'll do anything within the power of man to make you your old joyous self. Now at last she turned her large glorious eyes upon me, and their expression was sadness itself, but she only said quietly, I believe you, Mr. Morton. Then tell me what can I do? Come to supper, and she rose and left me. I went to my old seat by the window, and the tumult in my heart was in wide contrast with the quiet summer evening. You are mistaken, Emily Warren. I thought, you have as much as said that I can do nothing for you. I'll break your chain. You shall not marry Gilbert Hearn if I have to protest in the very church and before the altar. You are mine by the best and divinest right, and with your truth as my ally I'll win you yet. From this hour I dedicate myself to your happiness. Heaven's how blind I've been. Come, Richard, said Mrs. Yocome, putting her head within the door. Miss Warren sat at her place silent and apathetic. She had the aspect of one who had submitted to the inevitable, but would no longer pretend she liked it. Mr. Yocome was regarding her furtively with a clouded brow, and Ada's glances were frequent and perplexed. I felt as if walking on air, and my heart was aglow with gladness. But I knew her far too well to show what was in my mind. My purpose now was to beguile the hours till I could show her what truth really required of her. With the utmost tact that I possessed, and with all the zest that hope confirmed inspired, I sought to diffuse a general cheerfulness, and I gradually drew her into the current of our talk. After supper I told them anecdotes of public characters and eminent people, for my calling gave me a great store of this kind of information. There she was aware the despondent girl was asking questions, and my answers piqued her interest still more. At last quite late in the evening, Mr. Yocome exclaimed, Look here, Richard, what right has thee to keep me out of my bed long after regular hours? I'm not a night editor, good people, you must all go to bed. I'm master of this house. Now don't say anything, mother, to take me down. Finding myself alone with Miss Warren a moment in the hall, I asked, Have I not done more than merely come to supper? She turned from me instantly and went swiftly up the stairway. But the apathetic listless look was on her face when she came down in the morning, and she appeared as if passively yielding to a dreaded necessity. I resumed my old tactics, and almost in spite of herself, drew her into the genial family life. Mr. Yocome seconded me with unflagging zeal and commendable tact, while Mrs. Yocome surpassed us both. Ada seemed a little bewildered, as if there were something in the air which she could not understand. But we made the social sunshine of the house so natural and warm that she could not resist it. Ruben, I said after breakfast. Miss Warren is not well, a ride after Dappel is the best medicine I ever took. Take Miss Warren out for a swift short drive. Don't let her say no, you have the tact to do the thing in the right way. She did decline repeatedly, but he so persisted that she at last said, There Ruben, I will go with you. I think thee might do that much for a friend as he calls me. When she returned there was a faint color in her cheeks, the rapid drive had done her good, and I told her so as I helped her from the light wagon. Yes, Mr. Morton it has, and I thank you for the drive very much. Let me suggest that Ruben is much too honest for a conspirator. Well, he was a very willing one, and I see by his face as he drives down to the barn that you have made him a happy one. It doesn't take much to make him happy, and would it take such an enormous amount to make you happy? You are much too inclined to be personal to be an editor, the world at large should hold your interest, and she went to her room. At the dinner table the genial spell worked on, she recognized it with a quiet smile but yielded to its kindly power. At last she apparently formed the resolution to make the most of this one bright day, and she became the life of the party. Father proposes that we all go on a family picnic to Silverpond, and take our supper there, it's only three miles away, would thee feel strong enough to go? Mrs. Yocome spoke with the utmost simplicity and innocence, but the young girl laughed outright, then fixed a penetrating glance on Mr. Yocome, whose florid face became much more ruddy. Evidences of guilt clearly apparent, she said, and Mr. Morton too looks very conscious, the best laid schemes of mice and men, you know the rest. Oh yes, I'd go if I had to be carried, when webs are spun so kindly, flies ought to be caught. What is the matter with you all? cried Ada. Miss Ada, if you'll find me a match for my cigar you'll make me happy, I said hastily, availing myself of the first line of retreat open. Is that all thee needs to make thee happy? Well, one thing at a time Miss Ada, if you please. As the day grew cool Ruben came around with the family Rockaway, Mrs. Yocome and Ada had prepared a basket as large as their own generous natures. I placed Miss Warren beside Mrs. Yocome on the back seat, while I took my place by Ada with Zilla between us. Little Adela and Ruben had become good friends and she insisted on sitting between him and his father. As we rolled along the quiet country roads chatting and laughing, and occasionally singing a snatch of a song, no one would have dreamed that any shadows rested on the party, except those which slanted eastward from the trees, which often hung far over our heads. I took pains not to fene any forced gaiety, nor had I occasion to, for I was genuinely happy, happier than I had ever been before. Nothing was assured save the absolute truth of the woman that I loved, but with this ally I was confident. I was impartial in my attentions to Ada and Zilla, and so friendly to both, that Ada was as pleased and happy as the child. We chafed our country neighbors whom we met, and even chattered back at the barking squirrels that whisked before us along the fences. Mr. Yocome seemed almost as much of a boy as Ruben, and for some reason Miss Warren always laughed most at his pleasantries. Mrs. Yocome looked as placid and bright as silver pond, as it at last glistened beneath us in the breathless sunny afternoon, but like the clear surface fringed with shadows that sank far beneath the water, there were traces of many thoughts in her large blue eyes. There was a cow lying under the tree where we meant to spread our table. I pointed her out to Miss Warren with humorous dismay. Shall we turn back? I asked. No, she replied, looking into my eyes gratefully. You have become so brave that I'm not afraid to go on. I ignored her reference to that which I intended she should forget for one day, believing that if we could make her happy, she would recognize how far her golden haloed lover came short of this power. So I said banteringly, I'll wager you my hat that you dare not get out and drive that terrific beast away. The idea of Emily's being afraid of a cow after facing dapple, cried Ruben. Well, we'll see, I said. Stop the rock away here. What should I do with your hat, Mr. Morton? Wear it and suffer the penalty, laughed Ada. You would surely win it, retorted the girl a little netled. I'll wager you a box of candy then, or anything you please. Let it be anything I please, she agreed, laughing. Mr. Morton, you are not going to let me get out alone. Oh no, and I sprang out to assist her down. She wants you to be on hand in case the ferocious beast switches its tail, cried Ada. The hand she gave me trembled as I helped her out, and I saw that she regarded the placid creature with a dread that she could not disguise. Picking up a little stick she stepped cautiously and hesitatingly toward the animal, while still ridiculously far away she stopped, brandished her stick, and said, with a quaver in her threatening tone, Get up, I tell you. But the cow ruminated quietly as if understanding well that there was no occasion for alarm. The girl took one or two more faltering steps and exclaimed in a voice of desperate entreaty. Oh, please get up. We could scarcely contain ourselves for laughter. Oh ye gods, how beautiful she is, I murmured. With her arm over Dappel's neck she was a goddess, now she's a shrinking woman, heaven grant that it may be my lot to protect her from the real perils of life. The cow suddenly switched her tail at a teasing gadfly and the girl precipitantly sought my side. Ruben sprang out of the rockaway and lay down and rolled in his uncontrollable mirth. Was there anything ever so ridiculous? cried Ada, for to the country girl Miss Warren's fear was affectation. At Ada's words Miss Warren's face suddenly became white and resolute. You at least shall not despise me, she said to me in a low tone, and shedding her eyes she made a blind rush toward the cow. I had barely time to catch her or she would have thrown herself on the horns of the startled animal that, with tail in air, careered away among the trees. The girl was so weak and faint that I had to support her, but I could not forbear saying in a tone that she alone heard. Do we ever despise that which we love supremely? Hush, she answered sternly. Mrs. Yocom was soon at our side with a flask of current wine, and Ada lapped a little bitterly as she said. It was as good as a play. Miss Warren recovered herself speedily by the aid of the generous wine, and this was the only cloud on our simple festivity. In her response to my ardent words she seemingly had satisfied her conscience, and she acted like one bent on making the most of this one occasion of fleeting pleasure. Ada was the only one who mentioned the banker. How Mr. Hearn would have enjoyed being here with us, she exclaimed. Miss Warren's response was a sudden pallor and a remorseful expression, but Mr. Yocom and I speedily created a diversion of thought. I saw, however, that Ada was watching her with a perplexed brow. The hours quickly passed and in deepening shadows we returned homeward. Miss Warren singing some sweet old ballads to which my heart kept time. She seemed both to bring the evening to a close and sat down at the piano. Ada and I listened well content, having put the children to bed Mrs. Yocom joined us, and we chatted over the pleasant trip while waiting for Mr. Yocom and Ruben, who had not returned from the barn. At last Mrs. Yocom said heartily as if summing it all up. Well, Richard, thee has given us a bright merry afternoon. Yes, Richard, Miss Warren began, as if her heart had spoken unawares. I beg your pardon, Mr. Morton, and then she stopped in piteous confusion, for I had turned toward her with all my unspeakable love in my face. Ada's laugh rang out a little harshly. I hastened to the rescue of the embarrassed girl, saying, I don't see why you should beg my pardon, we're all friends here, at least I'm trying to be one as fast as a leopard can change his spot and the Ethiopian his skin. As for you, a tailor would say you were cut from the same cloth as Mrs. Yocom. But for some reason she could not recover herself. She probably realized in the tumult of her feeling that she had revealed her heart too clearly, and she could not help seeing that Ada understood her. She was too confused for further pretence and too unnerved to attempt it. After a moment of pitiful hesitation she fled with a scarlet face to her room. Well, said Ada, with a slight hysterical laugh, I understand Emily Warren now. Pardon me, Miss Ada, I don't think you do, I began. If thee doesn't, thee's blind indeed. I am blind. Be assured I'm not any longer, and with a deep angry flush she too leapt us. I turned to Mrs. Yocom and taking both of her hands I entreated. As you have the heart of a woman, never let Emily Warren marry that man. Help me, help us both. My poor boy, she began. This is a serious matter. It is indeed, I said passionately. It's a question of life and death to us both. Well, she said thoughtfully, I think time and truth will be on thy side in the end, but I would advise thee not to do or say anything rash or hasty. She is very resolute. Give her time. Would to God I had taken her advice. End of Book Second Chapter Sixteen Book Second Chapter Seventeen of A Day of Fate by Edward Peebro. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Like Many Waters. Book Second Chapter Seventeen. My Worst Blunder. I scarcely could foresee how we should get through the following day. I both longed for and dreaded it, feeling that though it might pass quietly enough, it would probably be decisive in its bearing on the problem of my life. Miss Warren would at last be compelled to face the truth squarely, that she had promised a man what she could not give, and to permit him to go on blindly trusting would be impossible. The moment she realized fully that she had never truly loved him, and now never could, she would give up the pretense. Then why should she not see that love, duty and truth could go together, that she had struggled desperately to be loyal to Mr. Hearn was sadly proved by her thin face and wasted form. But would the nature like hers, when once her genuine love was evoked, the effort to repress it was as vain as seeking to curb a rising tide. I now saw as I looked back over the past weeks, that her love had grown steadily and irresistibly, till it had overwhelmed all save her will and conscience. That these stood, the two solitary landmarks of her former world. And I knew they would stand, and that my only hope was to stand with them. Her love had gone out to me as mine had to her, from a constraint that she could not resist. And this fact I hoped would reveal to her its sacred right to live. With every motive that would naturally bind her to a man who could give her so much, her heart claimed its mate in one who must daily toil long hours for subsistence. It would be like her to recognize that a love so unthrifty and unselfish, must spring from the deepest truths and needs of her being, rather than from any passing causes. She would come to believe as I did, that God had created us for each other. But it seemed as if the whole world had changed and gone awry, when we sat down to breakfast the next morning. Ada was polite to me, but she was cool and distant. She no longer addressed me in the friendly tongue, it was you now. I had ceased to be one of them in her estimation. Her father and mother looked grave and worried, but they were as kind and cordial to me as ever. Rubin and the little girls were evidently mystified by the great change in the social atmosphere, but were too inexperienced to understand it. I was pained by Ada's manner, but did not let it trouble me, feeling assured that as she thought the past over, she would do me justice, and that our relations would become substantially those of a brother and sister. But I was puzzled and alarmed beyond measure by Miss Warren's manner and appearance, and my feelings alternated between deepest sympathy and the strongest fear. She looked as if she had grown old in the night and was haggard from sleeplessness. Her deep eyes had sunk in deeper than ever, and the lines under them were dark indeed. But her white face was full of a cold scorn, and she held herself aloof from us all. She looked again as if capable of any blind desperate self-sacrifice. Simple honest Mr. Yocum was sorely perplexed, but his wife's face was grave and inscrutable. If I had only gone quietly away and left the whole problem to her, how much better it would have been. I tried to speak to Miss Warren in a pleasant natural way, her answers were brief and polite, but nothing more. Before the meal was over she excused herself and returned to her room. I felt almost indignant. What had I, most of all, what had her kind true friends, Mr. and Mrs. Yocum, done to warrant that cold half-scornful face? Her coming to breakfast was but a form, and she clearly wished to leave us at the earliest possible moment. Ada smiled satirically as she passed out, and the expression did not become her fair face. I strode out to the arbor in the garden and stared mootily at the floor. I know not how long, for I was greatly mystified and baffled, and my very soul was consumed with anxiety. She shall listen to reason, I muttered again and again. This question must be settled in accordance with truth, the simple natural truth, and nothing else. She is mine, and nothing shall separate us, not even her perverse will and conscience, and so the heavy hours passed in deep perturbation. At last I heard a step, and looking through the leaves I saw the object of my thoughts coming through the garden, reading a letter. My eyes glistened with triumph. The chance I coveted has come, I muttered, and I watched her intently. She soon crushed the letter in her hand and came swiftly toward the arbor, with a face so full of deep and almost wild distress that my heart relented, and I resolved to be as gentle as before I had intended to be decisive and argumentative. I hastily changed my seat to the angle by the entrance so that I could intercept her should she try to escape the interview. She entered and throwing herself down on the seat buried her face in her arm. Ms. Warren, I began. She started up with a passionate gesture. You have no right to intrude on me now, she said almost sternly. Pardon me, were I not here when you entered I would still have a right to come. You are in deep distress, why must I be inhuman any more than yourself? You have at least promised me friendship, but you treat me like an enemy. You have been my worst enemy. I take issue with you there at once. I've never had a thought toward you that was not most kind and loyal. Loyal, she replied bitterly. That word in itself is a stab. Ms. Warren, I said very gently. You make discord in the old garden today. She dropped her letter on the ground and sank on the seat again. Such a passion of sobs shook her slight frame that I trembled with apprehension, but I kept quiet, believing that nature could care for her child better than I could, and that her outburst of feeling would bring relief. At last as she became a little more self-controlled, I said gravely and kindly. There must be some deep cause for this grief. Oh, what shall I do? she sobbed. What shall I do? I wish the earth would open and swallow me up. That wish is as vain as it is cruel. I wish you would tell me all and let me help you. I think I deserve it at your hands. Well, since you know so much, you may as well know all. It doesn't matter now, since everyone will soon know. He has written that his business will take him to Europe within a month, that we must be married, that he will bring his sister here tonight to help me make arrangements. Oh, oh, I'd rather die than ever see him again. I've wronged him so cruelly, so causelessly. In wild exultation, I snatched a pocketbook from my coat and cried. Ms. Warren, Emily, do you remember this little York and Lancaster bud that you gave me the first day we met? Do you remember my half-gesting random words, to the victor belong the spoils? See, the victor is at your feet. She sprang up and turned her back upon me. Rise, she said, in a voice so cold and stern that bewildered I obeyed. She soon became as calm as before she had been passionate and unrestrained in her grief, but it was a stony quietness that chilled and disheartened me before she spoke. It does indeed seem as if the truth between us could never be hidden, she said bitterly. You have now very clearly shown your estimate of me. You regard me as one of those weak women of the past whom the strongest carry off. You have been the stronger in this case. Oh, you know it well, not even in the house of God could I escape your vigilant scrutiny. You hoped and watched and waited for me to be false. Should I yield to you, you would never forget that I had been false, and in accordance with your creed you would ever fear, that is, if your passion lasted long enough, the coming of one still stronger, to whom in the weak necessity of my nature I again would yield. Low as I have fallen, I will never accept from a man a mere passion devoid of respect and honour. I'm no longer entitled to these, therefore I'll accept nothing. She poured out these words like a torrent in spite of my gestures of passionate dissent and my efforts to be heard, but it was a cold, pitiless torrent. Excited as I was, I saw how intense was her self-loathing. I also saw despairingly that she embraced me in her scorn. Ms. Warren, I said dejectedly, since you are so unjust to yourself, what hope have I? There is little enough for either of us, she continued more bitterly. At least there is none for me, you will no doubt get bravely over it, as you said. Men generally do, especially when in their hearts they have no respect for the women with whom they are infatuated. Mr. Morton, the day of your coming was indeed the day of my fate. I wish you could have saved the lives of the others but not mine. I could then have died in peace with honour unstained, but now what is my life but an intolerable burden of shame and self-reproach? Without cause and beyond the thought of forgiveness, I've wronged a good honourable man who has been a kind and faithful friend for years. He is bringing his proud aristocratic sister here tonight to learn how false and contemptible I am. The people among whom I earned my humble livelihood will soon know how unfit I am to be trusted with their daughters, that I am one who falls a spoil to the strongest. I have lost everything, chief of all my pearl of great price, my truth. What have I left? Is there a more impoverished creature in the world? There is nothing left to me but bare existence and hateful memories. Oh, the lightning was dim compared with the vividness with which I've seen it all since that hateful moment last night, when the truth became evident even to Ada Jochome. But up to that moment, even up to this hour, I hoped you pitied me, that you were watching and waiting to help me to be true and not to be false. I did not blame you greatly for your love, my own weakness made me lenient, and at first you did not know. But since you now openly seek that which belongs to another, since you now exult that you are the stronger, and that I have become your spoil, I feel, though I cannot yet see and realize the depths into which I have fallen. Even today you might have helped me as a friend, and shown me how some poor shred of my truth might have been saved. But you snatched at me as if I were but the spoil of the strongest. Mr. Morton, either you or I must leave the farmhouse at once. This is the very fanaticism of truth, I cried desperately. Your mind is so utterly warped and morbid from dwelling on one side of this question, that you are cruelly unjust. Would that I had been less kind and more just, I felt sorry for you from the depths of my heart. Why have you had no pity for me? You are a man of the world and know it. Why did you not show me to what this wretched weakness would lead? I thought you meant this kindness when you said you wished my brother was here. Oh, that I were sleeping beside him. I thought you meant this when you said that nothing would last, nothing could end well unless built on the truth. I hoped you were watching me with the vigilance of a man who, through loving me, was so strong and generous and honorable that he would try to save me from a weakness that I cannot understand, and which was the result of strange and unforeseen circumstances. When you were so ill I felt as if I had dealt your deathblow, and then, womanlike, I loved you. I loved you before I recognized my folly. Up to that point we could scarcely help ourselves. For weeks I tried to hide the truth from myself. I fought against it. I prayed against it through sleepless nights. I tried to hide the truth from you, most of all. But I remember the flash of hope in your face when you first surmised my miserable secret. It hurt me cruelly. Your look should have been one of dismay and sorrow, but I know something of the weakness of the heart and its first impulse might naturally be that of gladness, although honour must have changed it almost instantly into deep regret. Then I believed that you were sorry and that it was your wish to help me. I thought it was your purpose yesterday to show me that I could be happy, even in the path of right and duty, that had become so hard. Though you spoke once as you ought not, but when I, unawares and from the impulse of a grateful heart, spoke your name last night as that of my truest and best friend as I thought, you turned toward me the face of a lover, and today, but it's all over, will you go? Our Mr. and Mrs. Yocum faults, I cried. No, they are too simple and true to realize the truth. Mr. Morton, I think we fully understand each other now, since you will not go, I shall. You had better remain here and grow strong. Please let me pass. I wish you had dealt me my death-blow, it were a merciful one compared with this. No, you don't understand me at all. You have portrayed me as a vile monster, because you cannot keep your engagement with a man you never truly loved. You inflict the torments of hell on the man you do love, and whom heaven meant you to love. Great God, you are not married to Gilbert Hearn, have not engagements often been broken for good and sufficient reasons, is not the truth that our hearts almost instantly claimed eternal kindred a sufficient cause. I watched and waited that I might know whether you were his or mine. I did not seek to win you from him after I knew, after I remembered, but when I knew the truth you were mine. Before God I assert my right, and before his altar I would protest against your marriage to any other. She sank down on the arbor seat, white and faint, but made a slight repellent gesture. Yes, I'll go, I said bitterly, and such a scene as this, might well cause a better man than I to go to the devil, and I strode away. But before I had taken a dozen steps my heart relented, and I returned. Her face was again buried in her right arm, and her left hand hung by her side. I took it in both of my own as I said gently and sadly. Emily Warren, you may scorn me, you may refuse ever to see my face again, but I have dedicated my life to your happiness, and I shall keep my vow. It may be of no use, but God looketh at the intent of the heart, even though I am, I cannot believe he will let the June day when we first met prove so fatal to us both. The God of whom Mrs. Yocome told us wants no harsh, useless self-sacrifice. You are not false, and never have been. Mrs. Yocome is not more true. I respect and honor you, as I do my mother's memory, though my respect now counts so little to you. I never meant to wrong or pain you, I meant your happiness first and always. If you care to know, my future life shall show whether I am a gentleman or a villain. May God show you how cruelly unjust you are to yourself. I shall attempt no further self-defense. Goodbye. She trembled, but she only whispered. Goodbye, go and forget. When I forget you, when I fail in loving loyalty to you, may God forget me, I replied, and I hastened from the garden, with as much sorrow and bitterness in my heart as the first man could have felt when the angel drove him from Eden. Alas, I was going out alone into a world that had become thorny indeed. As I approached the house Mrs. Yocome happened to come out on the piazza. I took her hand and drew her toward the garden gate. She saw that I was almost speechless from trouble, and with her native wisdom divined at all. I did not take your advice, I groaned, a cursed fool that I was, but no matter about me, save Emily from herself. As you believe in God's mercy, watch over her as you watched over me. Show her the wrong of wrecking both of our lives, she's in the arbor there, go and stay with her till I am gone. You are my only hope, God bless you for all your kindness to me, please write, I shall be in torment till I hear from you. Goodbye. I watched her till I saw her enter the arbor, then hastened to the barn, where Ruben was giving the horses their noonday feeding. Ruben, I said quietly, I'm compelled to go to New York at once, we can catch the afternoon train if you are prompt. Not a word old fellow, I've no time now to explain, I must go, and I'll walk if you won't take me, and I hastened to the house and packed for departure with reckless haste. At the foot of the moody stairway I met Ada. Are you going away? She tried to say distantly, with face averted. Yes, Miss Ada, and I fear you are glad. No, she said brokenly, and turning she gave me her hand. I can't keep this up any longer, Richard, since we first met I've been very foolish, very weak, and thee, thee has been a true gentleman toward me. I wish I might be a true brother, God knows I feel like one. Thee, thee saved my life, Richard, I was wicked to forget that for a moment, will thee forgive me? I'll forgive you only as you will let me become the most devoted brother a girl ever had, for I love and respect you, Ada, very, very much. Tears rushed into the warm-hearted girl's eyes. She put her arms around my neck and kissed me. Let this seal that agreement, she said, and I'll be thy sister in heart as well as in name. How kind and good you are, Ada, I faltered, you are growing like your mother now. When you come to New York you will see how I keep my word, and I hastened away. Mr. Yocom intercepted me in the path. How's this? How's this? he cried. I must go to New York at once, I said. Mrs. Yocom will explain all. I have a message for Mr. Hearn. Please say that I will meet him at any time, and will give any explanations to which he has a right. Goodbye. I won't try to thank you for your kindness, which I shall value more and more every coming day. For a long time we rode in silence, Ruben looking as grim and lowering as his round, ready face permitted. At last he broke out. Now, I say, blast Emily Warren's grandfather. No, Ruben, my boy, I replied, putting my arm around him. With all his millions I'm heartily sorry for Mr. Hearn. End of Book Second Chapter 17 Book Second Chapter 18 Of A Day of Fate by Edward P. Rowe This LibriVox recording is in the public domain, recording by like many waters. Book Second Chapter 18 Mrs. Yocom's Letters I will not weary the reader with my experiences after arriving at New York. I could not have felt worse had I been driven into the dismal swamp. My apartments were dusty and stifling and as cheerless as my feelings. My editorial chief welcomed me cordially and talked business. After you had gone, he was kind enough to say, We learned your value, night work is too wearing for you, so please take that office next to mine. I feel a little like breaking down myself, and don't intend to wait until I do as you did. I shall be off a great deal the rest of the summer, and you'll have to manage things. Pile on work, I said, I'm greedy for it. Yes, he replied laughing, I appreciate that rare trait of yours, but I shall regard you as insubordinate if you don't take proper rest. Give us your brains, Morton, and leave Hackwork to others, that's where you blundered before. Within an hour I was caught in the whirl of the great complicated world, and as I said to Mr. Yocom, I had indeed no time to mope. Thank God for work, it's the best antidote this world has for trouble. But when night came my brain was weary and my heart heavy as lead, it seemed as if the farmhouse was in another world, so diverse was everything there from my present life. I had given my uptown address to Mrs. Yocom and went home, if I may apply that term to my dismal boarding place, Tuesday night, feeling assured that there must be a letter. Good Mrs. Yocom had not failed me, for on my table lay a bulky envelope addressed in a quaint but clear hand. I was glad no one saw how my hand trembled as I opened her missive and read. My dear Richard, I know how anxious thee is for tidings from us all, and especially from one toward whom thy heart is very tender. I will take up the sad story where thee left it, having all the facts, thee can draw thy own conclusions. I found Emily in almost a fainting condition, and I just took her in my arms and let her cry like a child until tears brought relief. It was no time for words, then I brought her into the house and gave her something that made her sleep in spite of herself. She awoke about an hour before Gilbert turns arrival, and her nervous trepidation at the thought of meeting him was so great that I resolved she should not see him, at least not that night, and I told her so. This gave her great relief, though she said it was cowardly in her to feel so, but in truth she was too ill to see him. Her struggle had been too long and severe, and her nervous system was utterly prostrated. And the doctor is very discreet. I told him that he must manage so that Emily need not see the one she so feared to meet again, and hinted plainly why, though making no reference to thee, of course. The doctor acted as I wished, not because I wished it, but on professional grounds. Miss Warren's future health depends on absolute rest and quiet, he said to her affianced. I not only advise that you do not see her, but I forbid it, for he was terribly excited. So was his sister Charlotte Bradford, and it was as much as we could do to keep them from going to her room. If they had, I believe the excitement would have destroyed either her life or reason. Gilbert Hearn plainly intimated that something was wrong. Very well then, I said, bring thy own family physician and let him consult with Dr. Bates. And this he angrily said he would do on the morrow. The very fact that they were in the house made the poor girl almost wild, but I stayed with her all night, and she just lay in my arms like a frightened child, and my heart yearned over her as if she were my own daughter. She did not speak of thee, but I heard her murmur once. I was cruel, I was unjust to him. In the morning she was more composed, and I made her take strong nourishment, I can tell thee. The remembers how I used to dose thee in spite of thyself. Well, in the morning Emily seemed to be thinking deeply, and by and by she said, Mrs. Yocom, I want this affair settled at once. I want you to sit by me while I write to him, and advise me. I felt she was right. Her words were about as follows. I asked her if I could tell thee what she wrote. She hesitated a little, and a faint color came into her pale face. Yes, she said at last. Let him know the whole truth. Since so much has occurred between us, I want him to know everything. He then may judge me as he thinks best. I have a horror of any more misunderstanding. You can never know, Mr. Hearn, she wrote, the pain and sorrow with which I address you these words. Still less can you know my shame and remorse, but you are an honorable man and have a right to know the truth. My best hope is that when you know how unworthy I am of your regard, your regret will be slight. I recall all your kindness to me, and my heart is tortured as I now think of the requital I am making. Still, justice to myself requires that I tell you that I mistook my gratitude and esteem, my respect and genuine regard, for a deeper emotion. You will remember, however, that I long hesitated, feeling instinctively that I could not give you what you had a right to expect. Last spring you pressed me for a definite answer. I said I would come to this quiet place and think it all over, and if I did not write you to the contrary within a few days, you might believe that I had yielded to your wishes. I found myself more worn and weary from my toilsome life than I imagined. I was lonely, I dreaded my single-handed struggle with the world, and my heart overflowed with gratitude toward you. It still does, for your kindness and for all that you promised to do for me. I had not the will nor the disposition to say no or to put you off any longer. Still I had misgiving, I feared that I did not feel as I ought. When I received your kind letter accepting my silence as consent, I felt bound by it, I was bound by it. I have no defense to make. I can only state the miserable truth. I cannot love you as a wife ought, and I know now that I never can. I've tried, God knows I've tried. I'm worn out with the struggle, I fear I am very ill. I wish I were dead and at rest. I cannot ask you to think mercifully of me, I cannot think mercifully of myself. To meet again would be only useless suffering. I am not equal to it. My one effort now is to gain sufficient strength to go to some distant relatives in the West. Please forgive me. In sorrow and bitter regret, Emily Warren. I started up and paced the room distractedly. The generous girl, I exclaimed, she lays not a particle of blame on me, but by Jove I'd like to take all the blame and have it out with him here and now. Blame, what blame is there, the poor child, why can't she see that she is white as snow? Again I eagerly turned to Mrs. Yochome's words. Emily seemed almost overwhelmed at the thought of his reading this letter. She is so generous, so sensitive, that she saw only his side of the case, and scarcely made any allowance for herself. I was a little decided and plain spoken with her, and it did her good. At last I said to her, I am not weak-minded if I am simple and plain. Because I live in the country is no reason why I do not know what is right and just, thee has no cause to blame thyself so bitterly. Does Mr. Yochome feel and think as you do? She asked. Of course he does, I replied. She put her hands to her head and said pitifully. Perhaps I am too distracted to see things clearly, I sometimes fear I may lose my reason. Well Emily, I said, thee has done right, thee cannot help feeling as thee does. And to go on now would be as great a wrong to Gilbert Hearn as to thyself, thee has done just as I would advise my own daughter to do. Leave all with me, thee need not see him again. And I left her quite heartened up. Oh, but you are a gem of a woman, I cried, a few more like you would bring the millennium. Gilbert Hearn was dreadfully taken aback by the letter, but I must do him the justice to say that he was much touched by it too, for he called me again into the parlour, and I saw that he was much moved. He had given his sister the letter to read, and she muttered, poor thing as she finished it. He fixed his eyes sternly on me and said, Mr. Morton is at the bottom of this thing. I returned his gaze very quietly and asked, what am I to infer by this expression of thy opinion to me? His sister was as quick as a flash, and she said plainly, Gilbert, these people were not too little children in Mrs. Yochome's care. thee is right, I said. I have not controlled their actions any more than I have those of thy brother, Richard Morton is absent, however, and were we not under peculiar obligations to him, I would still be bound to speak for him, since he is not here to speak for himself. I have never seen Richard Morton do anything unbecoming a gentleman, as thee, Gilbert, turn. If so, I think thee had better see him, for he is not one to deny thee any explanation to which thee has a right. Why did he go to the city so suddenly, he asked angrily, I will give thee his address, I said coldly. Gilbert expostulated his sister, we have no right to cross question Mrs. Yochome. Since thee is so considerate, I said to her, I will add that Richard Morton intended to return on second day at the latest, and he chose to go today. His action enables me to give thee a room to thyself. Gilbert said the lady, I do not see that we have any reason to regret his absence, as Mrs. Yochome says, you can see him in New York, but unless you have well founded and specific charges to make, I think it would compromise your dignity to see him. Editors are ugly customers to stir up, unless there is a good cause. I know one, I growled, that would be a particularly ugly customer just now. In Emily Warren's case I said it is different, Mrs. Yochome continued, she is a motherless girl and has appealed to me for advice and sympathy, in her honest struggle to be loyal to thee. She has worn herself almost to a shadow, and I have grave fears for her reason and her life, so great is her prostration. She has for thee Gilbert earned the sincerest respect and esteem, and the feeling that she has wronged thee even though she cannot help it, seems almost to crush her. Gilbert said his sister warmly, you cannot blame her and you certainly ought to respect her, if she were not an honest hearted girl she would never have renounced you with your great wealth. He sank into a chair and looked very white. It's a terrible blow, he said, it's the first severe reverse I've ever had. I know from your character that you will meet it like a man and a gentleman. Certainly, he said with a deep breath, I cannot do otherwise. Then I rose and bowed saying, you will both excuse me if I am with my charge much of the time, Ada will attend to your wants, and I hope you will feel at home so long as it shall please you to stay. By Jove, but her tact was wonderful, not a diplomat in Europe could have done better. The innocent looking Quakeress was a match for them both. Then I went back to Emily, Mrs. Yocome wrote, and I found her in a pitiable state of excitement. When I opened the door she started up apprehensively, as if she feared that the man with whom she had broken would burst in upon her with bitter reproaches. I told her everything, for even I cannot deceive her, she is so quick, her mind was wonderfully lightened, and I soon made her sleep again. She awoke in the evening much quieter, but she cried a good deal in the night, and I surmised she was thinking of thee more than of herself or of him. I wish thee had waited until all this was over, but I think all will come out right. Oh, the unutterable fool that I was, I groaned, I'm the champion blunderer of the world. Well, Richard, this is the longest letter I ever wrote, and I must bring it to a close, for my patient needs me. I will write soon again and tell thee everything. Good night. Second day P.S. I left my letter open to add a post-script, Gilbert Hearn and his sister left this morning. The former at last seemed quite calm and resigned, and was very polite. His sister was too. She amused me not a little. I do not think that her heart was greatly set on the match, and she was not so troubled but that she could take an interest in our quiet, homely ways. I think we seemed to her what you city people call Brickabrack, but she was too much of a lady to let her curiosity become offensive. She took a great fancy to Ada, especially as she saw that Adela was very fond of her, and she persuaded her brother to leave the child here in our care, saying that she was improving wonderfully. He did not seem at all adverse to the plan. Ada is behaving very nicely if I do say it, and showed a great deal of quiet, gentle dignity. She and Charlotte Bradford had a long chat in the evening about Adela. Ada says, send Richard my love, and if I put in all the messages from Father, Ruben and Zilla, they would fill another sheet. I asked Emily if she had any message for thee. She buried her face in the pillow and murmured, not now, not yet, but after a moment she turned toward me, looking white and resolute. Tell him, she said, to forgive me and forget. Be patient, Richard. Wait. Dine affectionately, Ruth Yocum. Forget, I shouted. Yes, when I am annihilated, and I paced my room for hours. At last exhausted I sought such rest as I could obtain, but my last thought was, God bless Ruth Yocum. I could kiss the ground she had trodden. The next morning I settled down to my task of waiting and working, resolving that there must be no more nights like the last, in which I had wasted a vast amount of vital force. I wrote to Mrs. Yocum and thanked her from a full heart. I sent messages to all the family and said, Tell Ada I shall keep her love warm in my heart, and that I send her twice as much of mine in return. Like all brothers I shall take liberties, and will subscribe in her behalf for the two best magazines in the city. Give Miss Warren this simple message. The words I last spoke to her shall ever be true. I also told Mrs. Yocum of my promotion, and that I was no longer a night owl. Toward the end of the week came another bulky letter, which I devoured, letting my dinner grow cold. Our life at the farmhouse has become very quiet, she wrote. Emily improves slowly, for her nervous system has received a severe strain. I told her that thee had sent messages to all the family, and asked if she did not expect one. I've no right to any, there's no occasion for any she faltered, but her eyes were very wistful and intriguing. Well, I said, I must clear my conscience, and since he sent thee one I must give it. He writes, say to Miss Warren and reply that the last words I spoke to her shall ever be true. I suppose thee know what he means, I said smiling, I don't. She buried her face in the pillow again, but I think thy message did her good, for she soon fell asleep, and looked more peaceful than at any time yet. At last there came a letter saying, Emily has left us and gone to a cousin, a Mrs. Vining, who resides at Columbus, Ohio, she is much better but very quiet, very different from her old self. Father put her on the train, and she will have to change cars only once. Emily, I said to her, thee cannot go away without one word for Richard. She was deeply moved, but her resolute will gained the mastery. I am trying to act for the best, she said. He has appealed to the future, the future must prove us both, for there must be no more mistakes. Does thee doubt thyself, Emily? I have reason to doubt myself, Mrs. Yocome, she replied. But what does thy heart tell thee? A deep solemn look came into her eyes, and after a few moments she said, pardon me, my dear friend, if I do not answer you fully, indeed I would scarcely know how to answer you. I have entered on an experience that is new and strange to me. I am troubled and frightened at myself. I want to go away among strangers, where I can think and grow calm. I want to be alone with my God, I should always be weak and vacillating here. Moreover, Mr. Morton has formed an impression of me, of which perhaps I cannot complain. This impression may grow stronger in his mind, it has all been too sudden, his experiences have been too intermingled with storm, delirium and passion. He has not had time to think any more than I have. In the larger sphere of work to which you say he has been promoted, he may find new interests that will be absorbing. After a quiet and distant retrospect, he may thank me for the course I am taking. Emily, I exclaimed, for so tenderhearted a girl thee is very strong. No, she replied, but because I have learned my weakness I am going away from temptation. I then asked, is thee willing I should tell Richard what thee has said? After thinking for some time she answered, yes, let everything be based on the simple truth, but tell him he must respect my action, he must leave me to myself. The afternoon before she left us, Ada and Ruben went over to the village and got some beautiful rose buds, and Ada brought them up after tea. Emily was much touched and kissed her again and again. Then she threw herself into my arms and cried for nearly an hour, but she went away bravely. I never can think of it with dry eyes. Zilla was heartbroken, and Ruben clung to her in a way that surprised me. He has been very remorseful that he treated her badly at one time. Ada and I were mopping our eyes and father kept blowing his nose like a trumpet. She gave way a little at the last moment, for Ruben ran down to the barn and brought out dapple that she might say goodbye to him, and she put her arms around the pretty creature's neck and sobbed for a moment or two. I never saw horse act so. He followed her right up to the rockaway steps. At last she said, come, let us go quick. I shall never forget the scene, and I think that she repressed so much feeling that we had to express it for her. She kissed little Adele tenderly, and the child was crying too. It seemed as if we couldn't go on and take up our everyday life again. I wouldn't have believed that one who was a stranger but a short time ago could have gotten such a hold upon our hearts. But as I think it all over I do not wonder, dear little Zilla reminds me of what I owe to her. She is very womanly, but she is singularly strong. As she was driven away she looked up at thy window, so thee may guess that thee was the last one in her thoughts. Wait and be patient, do just as she says. I am glad that my editorial chief did not see me as I read this letter, for I fear I should have been deposed at once. Its influence on me, however, was very satisfactory to him, for if ever a man was put on his medal I felt that I had been. Very well, Emily Warren, I said, we have both appealed to the future, let it judge us. I worked and tried to live as if the girl's clear dark eyes were always on me, and her last lingering glance at the window from which I had watched her go to meet the lover that, for my sake, she could not marry, was a ray of steady sunshine. She did not realize how unconsciously she had given me hope. A few days later I looked carefully over our subscription list. Her paper had been stopped, and I felt this keenly. But as I was staring blankly at the obliterated name, a happy thought occurred to me, and I turned to the letter V. With a gleam of deep satisfaction in my eyes, I found the address, Mrs. Adelaide Bining, Columbus, Ohio. Now through the editorial page I can write to her daily, I thought. Late in September my chief said to me, Look here, Morton, you are pitching into every dragon in the country. I don't mind fighting three or four evils or abuses at a time, but this general onslaught is raising a breeze. With your permission, I don't care if it becomes a gale, as long as we are well ballasted with facts. Well, to go back to my first figure, be sure you are well armed before you attack. Some of the beasts are old and tough, and have awful stings in their tails. The people seem to like it, though, from the way subscriptions are coming in. But I wrote chiefly for one reader. He would have opened his eyes if I had told him that a young music teacher in Columbus, Ohio, had a large share in conducting the journal. Over the desk in my rooms I had had framed an illuminated text, the words she had spoken to me on the most memorable day of my life. The editor has exceptional opportunities, and might be the night errant of our age. If in earnest and on the right side, he can forge a weapon out of public opinion that few evils could resist. He is in just the position to discover these dragons and drive them from their hiding places. The spirit that breathed in these words I tried to make mine, for I wished to feel and think as she did. While I maintained my individuality of thought, I never touched a question but that I first looked at it from her standpoint. I labored for weeks over an editorial entitled Truth vs. Conscience, and sent it like an arrow into the West. End of Book 2 Chapter 18 Book 2 Chapter 19 of A Day of Fate by Edward P. Row. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Like Many Waters Book 2 Chapter 19 Aida I heard often from the farmhouse and learned that Mr. Hearn had gone to Europe almost immediately, but that he had returned in the latter part of September and had spent a week with his little girl. Mrs. Bradford, his sister, accompanying him. They seem to think Adela is doing so well, Mrs. Yocome wrote, that they have decided to leave her here through October. Aida spends part of every forenoon teaching the little girls. In the latter part of November I received a letter that made my heart beat thick and fast. We expect thee to eat thy Thanksgiving dinner with us, and we expect also a friend from the West. I think she will treat thee civilly. At any rate, we have a right to invite whom we please. We drew up a petition to Emily and all signed it. Father added a direful postscript. He said, If thee won't come quietly I will go after thee, thee thinks I am a man of peace, but there will be commotion and violence in Ohio if thee doesn't come, so strong-willed as thee is, thee has got to yield for once. She wrote, Father, the funniest letter in reply, in which she agreed, for the credit of the society of friends, not to provoke him to extremities. She doesn't know thee is coming, but I think she knows me well enough to be sure that thee would be invited. Emily writes that she will not return to New York to live, since she can obtain more scholars than she needs at Columbus. Mrs. Yocom also added that Aida had left home that day for an extended visit in the city, and she gave me her address. I had written to Aida more than once, and had made out a program of what we should do when she came to town. Quite early in the evening I started out to call upon her, but as I drew near the house I saw that a handsome coop stood before the door, drawn by two horses, and that the coachman was in livery. My steps were speedily arrested, for the door of the dwelling was opened, and Mr. Hearn came out, accompanied by Aida. They entered the coop and were driven rapidly toward Fifth Avenue. I gave a long, low whistle and took two or three turns around the block muttering. Gilbert Hearn, but you are shrewd, if you can't have the best thing in the world, you'll have the next best. Come to think of it, she is best for you. If this comes about for Aida, I could throw my hat over yonder steeple. I went back to the house, proposing to leave my card, and thus show Aida that I was not inattentive. The interior of the dwelling, like its exterior, was plain, but very substantial and elegant. The servant handed my card to a lady passing through the hall. Oh, thee is Richard Morton, she said. Cousin Ruth and Aida have told us all about thee, please come in, for I want to make thy acquaintance. Aida will be sorry to miss thee, she has gone out for the evening. If she will permit me, I said, I will call tomorrow on my way downtown, for I wish to see her very much. Do so by all means, come whenever thee can, and informally, they'll always find a welcome here. Before I was aware I had spent an hour in pleasant chat, for with the yoke-combs as mutual friends we had common interests. Mrs. Winfield, my hostess, had all the elegance of Mrs. Bradford, but there was also a simple friendly hardiness in her manner that stamped every word she spoke with sincerity. I was greatly pleased and felt that the wealthy banker and his sister could find no fault with Aida's connections. She greeted me the next morning, like the sister she had become in very truth. Oh, Richard, she exclaimed, I'm so glad to see thee. Why, thee so improved I'd hardly know thee, seems to me these grown taller and larger every way. I fear I looked rather small sometimes in the country. No, Richard, thee never looked small to me, but when I think what I was when thee found me, I don't wonder thee went up to thy room in disgust. I've thought a great deal since that day, and I've read some too. If you knew how proud of you I am now it would turn your head. Perhaps it isn't very strong, so thee's going to eat thy thanksgiving dinner at home, I shall be well out of the way. You will never be in my way, but perhaps I might have been in somebody's way had I come earlier last night. I thought thee was blind, she said, an exquisite color coming into her beautiful face. Never to your interests, Aida, count on me to the last drop. Oh, Richard, thee has been so kind and helpful to me. You'll never know all that's in my heart when I think of what I was when I first knew thee, I wonder at it all. Aida, I said, taking her hand. You have become a genuine woman, the expression of your face has changed, and it has become a fine example of the truth that even beauty follows the law of living growth from within outward. Higher thoughts, noble principle, and unselfishness are making their impress. After our long separation I see the change distinctly, and I feel it's still more. You have won my honest respect, Aida. I predict for you a happy life, and what is more, you will make others happy. People will be the better for being with you. Well, Richard, now that we are brother and sister, I don't mind telling thee that it was thee who woke me up. I was a fool before thee came. But the true sweet woman was in your nature ready to be awakened, other causes would soon have produced the same effect. Possibly, but I don't know anything about other causes, I do know thee, and I trust thee with my whole heart, and I'm going to talk frankly with thee because I want to ask thy advice. Thee knows how near to death I came. I've thought a great deal about it. Having come so near losing life, I began to think of what life meant, what it was, and I was soon made to see how petty and silly my former life had been. My heart just overflowed with gratitude toward thee. When thee was so ill I would often lie awake whole nights thinking and trembling lest thee should die. I felt so strangely, so weak and helpless, that I stretched out my hands to thee, and thy strong hands caught and sustained me through that time when I was neither woman nor child. Thee never humiliated me by even a glance, Thee treated me with a respect that I did not deserve, but which I want to deserve. I am not strong like Emily Warren, but I am trying to do right. Thee changed a blind impulse into an abiding trust and sisterly affection. Thee may think I'm giving thee a strange proof of my trust. I am going to tell thee something that I've not told anyone yet. Last evening Gilbert Hearn took me to see his sister, Mrs. Bradford, and I spent the evening with them and little Adella. Coming home he asked me to be his wife. I was not so very greatly surprised, for he spent every first day in October at our house while Adella was with us, and he was very attentive to me. Father and mother don't like it very much, but I think they are a little prejudiced against him on thy account. I believe thee will tell me the truth about him. Aida, dear, you have honoured me greatly. I will advise you just as I would my own sister. What did you answer him last evening? I told him that I was a simple country girl and not suited to be his wife. He then said that he had a right to his own views about that. He said he wanted a genuine wife, one that would love him and his little girl, and not a society woman, who would marry him for his money. That is exceedingly sensible. Yes, he said he wanted a home and that he was fond of quiet home life, that I came of a quiet sincere people, and that he had seen enough of me to know that he could trust me. He said also that I could be both a mother and a companion to Adella, and that the child needed just such a disposition as I had. I laughed as I said. Mr. Hearn is sagacity itself. Even Solomon could not act more wisely than he is seeking to act. But what does your heart say to all this, Aida? Her colour deepened and she averted her face. Thee will think I'm dreadfully matter of fact, Richard, but I think that perhaps we are suited to each other. I've thought about it a great deal. As I said before, my head isn't very strong. I couldn't understand half the things he thinks and writes about. I've seen that clearly. He wouldn't expect a wife to understand his business, and he says he wants to forget all about it when he comes home. He says he likes a place full of beauty, repose and genial light. He likes quiet dinner parties made up of his business friends, and not literary people like thee. We haven't got great inquiring minds like thee and Emily Warren. You are making fun of me now, Aida. I fear Ms. Warren has thrown me over and discussed. Nonsense, Richard. She loves thy little finger more than I am capable of loving any man. She is strong and intense, and she could go with thee and thought wherever thee pleases. I'm only Aida. Yes, you are Aida, and the man who has the reputation of having the best of everything in the city wants you badly and with good reason, but I want to know what you want. I want to know what thee thinks of it. I want thee to tell me about him. Does thee know anything against him? No, Aida. Even when I feared he would disappoint my dearest hope, I told your mother that he was an honorable man. He is exceedingly shrewd in business, but I never heard of his doing anything that was not square. I think he would make you a very kind, considerate husband, and, as he says, you could do so much for his little girl. But, rich as he is, Aida, he is not rich enough for you unless you can truly love him. I think I can love him in my quiet way. I think I would be happy in the life I would lead with him. I'm fond of housekeeping and very fond of pretty things and of the city as thee knows. Then I could do so much for them all at home. Father and mother are growing old, father lent some money years ago and lost it, and he and mother have to work too hard. I could do so much for them and for Zilla, and that would make me happy, but I am so simple and I know so little that I fear I can't satisfy him. I have no fear on that score. What I am anxious about is will he satisfy you? You can't realize how bent upon your happiness I am. I thank thee, Richard. I was not wrong in coming to thee. Well, I told him that I wanted to think it all over, and I asked him to do the same. He said he had fully made up his mind and that his sister hardly approved of his course, and had advised it. He said that he would wait for me as long as I pleased. Now if thee thinks its best, thy words would have much influence with father and mother. I raised her hand to my lips and said feelingly, Ada, I am very grateful for this confidence. I feel more honored that you should have come to me than if I had been made governor. In view of what you have said, I do think its best. Mr. Hearn will always be kind and considerate, and you will grow rapidly into those qualities that will adorn your high social position. Do not undervalue yourself. Gilbert Hearn may well thank God for you every day of his life. I went down to the office in a mood to write an interminable thanksgiving editorial, for it seemed as if the clouds were all breaking away. END OF BOOK SECOND CHAPTER 19 BOOK SECOND CHAPTER 20 OF A DAY OF FAITH by Edward P. Rowe This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Lyke Mini Waters BOOK SECOND CHAPTER 20 THANKSGIVING DAY On the day before Thanksgiving, one of my associates clapped me on the shoulder and said laughing, Morton, what's the matter? You are as nervous as a girl on her wedding day. I've spoken to you twice and you've not answered. Has one of the dragons got the best of you? I woke up and said quietly, it isn't a dragon this time. Oh, how vividly that evening comes back to me. As I walked swiftly uptown, it would have been torture to have ridden in a lumbering stage or crawling streetcar. I scarcely knew what I thrust into my traveling bag, I had no idea what I ate for dinner, and only remembered that I scalded myself slightly with hot coffee. Calling a coop, I dashed off to a late train that passed through the village nearest to the farmhouse. It had been arranged that I should come the following morning and that Ruben should meet me, but I proposed to give them a surprise. I could not wait one moment longer than I must. I had horrible dreams in the stuffy little room at the village end, but consoled myself with the thought that dreams go by contraries. After a breakfast on which my host cleared two hundred percent, I secured a light wagon and driver and started for the world's one mecca for me. My mind was in a tumult of mingled hope and fear, and I experienced all a young soldier's trepidation when going into his first battle. If she had not come, if she would not listen to me, the cold perspiration would start out on my brow at the very thought. What a mockery Thanksgiving day would ever become if my hopes were disappointed, even now I cannot recall that interminable ride without a faint awakening of the old unrest. Then within half a mile of the house I dismissed my driver and started on at a tremendous pace, but my steps grew slower and slower, and when the turn of the road revealed the dear old place just before me, I leaned against a wall, faint and trembling. I marked the spot on which I had stood when the fiery bolt descended, and some white shingles indicated the place on the mossy roof where it had burned its way into the home that even then enshrined my dearest treasures. I saw the window at which Emily Warren had directed the glance that had sustained my hope for months. I looked wistfully at the leafless, flowerless garden where I had first recognized my eve. Will her manner be like the present aspect of that garden? I groaned. I saw the arbor in which I made my wretched blunder. I had about broken myself of profanity, but an ugly expression slipped out. I hoped the good angel makes allowances for human nature. Recalling the vow I had made in that arbor, I snatched up my valise and did not stop till I had mounted the piazza. Further suspense was unendurable. My approach had been unnoted, nor had I seen any of the family. Noiselessly as possible I opened the door and stood within the hallway. I heard Mrs. Yocome's voice in the kitchen. Ruben was whistling upstairs, and Zilla singing her doll to sleep in the dining room. I took these sounds to be good omens, if she had not come there would not have been such cheerfulness. With silent tread I stole to the parlor door, at my old seat by the window was Emily Warren, riding on a portfolio in her lap. For a second a blur came over my vision, and then I devoured her with my eyes as the famishing would look at food. Had she changed, yes, but only to become tenfold more beautiful, for her face now had that indescribable charm which suffering nobly endured in parts. I could have knelt to her like a Catholic to his patron saint. She felt my presence, for she looked up quickly, the portfolio dropped from her lap, she was greatly startled and instinctively put her hand to her side. Still I thought I saw welcome dawning in her eyes, but at this moment Zilla sprang into my arms, and half smothered me with kisses. Her cries of delight brought Ruben tearing down the stairs, and Mrs. Yocome, hastening from the kitchen, left the mark of her flowery arm on the collar of my coat as she gave me a motherly salute. Their welcome was so warm, spontaneous, and real, that tears came into my eyes. For I felt that I was no longer a lonely man without kindred. But after a moment or two I broke away from them and turned to Miss Warren, for all my thanksgiving day depended upon her. She had become very pale, but her eyes were glistening at the honest feeling she had witnessed. I held out my hand and asked in a low voice, May I stay? I could not send you away from such friends, Mr. Morton, she said gently, even had I the right. And she held out her hand. I think I heard it, for I grasped it as if I were drowning. Ruben had raced down to the barn to call his father, who now followed him back at a pace that scarcely became his age and Quaker tenants. Richard, he called as soon as he saw me, welcome home, these been a long time coming, and yet these stolen a march on us all. Ruben was just going for thee, how did they get here, there's no train so early. Oh, I came last night, a ship's cable couldn't hold me the moment I could get away. Mother, I think that's quite a compliment to us old people, he began. Has thee seen Ada? Yes indeed, and she sent more love than I could carry to you all. She looked just lovely, and I nearly forgot to go downtown that morning. Miss Warren was about to leave the room, but the old gentleman caught her hand and asked, where is thee going, Emily? Pardon me, I thought you all would have much to say to Mr. Morton. So we have to be sure, we won't get half through today, but that's no reason for thy leaving us, we are all one family under this roof, thank God, and I'm going to thank him today in good old style and no make believe. And he kept her hand as she sat down by him. If you knew how homesick I've often been, you would realize how much good your words do me, she replied gratefully. So these been homesick has thee, well thee didn't let us know. What good would it have done, I couldn't come before. Well, I am kind of glad thee was homesick, the missing wasn't all on our side. Why, Richard, thee never saw such a disconsolate household as we were after Emily left. I even lost my appetite, didn't I, mother, and that's more than I've done for any lady, since Ebenezer Holcomb cut me out of thy company at a picnic. Let me see, how many years ago was it, mother? The doesn't think I remember such foolishness, I hope, said the old lady, but with a rising color, almost as pretty as the blush I had seen so recently on Ada's face. Mr. Yocom leaned back and laughed. See, mother blush, he cried, poor Ebenezer. You'll want more than thy light nonsense for thy dinner by and by, so I must go back to the kitchen. As she turned away she gave a sweet suggestion of the blushing girl for whom Ebenezer had sighed in vain, and I said emphatically, Yes indeed, Mr. Yocom, you may well say poor Ebenezer. How in the world did he ever survive it? These very sympathetic Richard, Ms. Warren looked at him threateningly. I tried to laugh it off, and said, even if he had a millstone for a heart, it must have broken at such a loss. Oh, don't thee worry, he's a hail and hearty grandfather today. Ms. Warren broke into a laugh that set all my nerves tingling. Yes, she cried, I thought it would end in that way. Why, Emily, bless thee, said Mrs. Yocom running in. I haven't heard thee laugh so since thee came. She's at her old tricks, said her husband, laughing at Richard and me. I found her merriment anything but reassuring, and I muttered under my breath. Perdition on Ebenezer and his speedy comfort. I hope she don't class me with him. Very soon Mrs. Yocom appeared again and said, Father, thee must take them all out to drive. I can't do anything straight while I hear you all talking and laughing, for my thoughts are with you. I've put salt into one pie already. A Thanksgiving dinner requires one's whole mind. Bustle, bustle, all get ready. Mother's mistress of this house on Thanksgiving day, if at no other time. We're commanded to obey the powers that be, and if the woman who can get up such a dinner as mother can't isn't a power, I'd like to know where we'll find one. I'm very meek and respectful on Thanksgiving morning. Get on thy wraps, Emily. No mutiny before dinner. She seemed very ready to go, for I think she dreaded being left alone with me. I too was glad to gain time, for I was strangely unnerved and apprehensive. She avoided meeting my eyes and was inscrutable. In a few moments we were in the family rockaway, bowling over the country at a grand pace. Mother shrewd, said Mr. Yocom. She knew that a bride like this in the frosty air would give us an appetite for any kind of a dinner, but it will make hers taste like the Feast of Tabernacles. Let him go, Ruben, let him go. Do you call this a Quaker pace? asked Miss Warren, who sat with Zilla on the back seat. Yes, I'm acting just as I feel moved. These much too slow for a friend, Emily. Now I'll wager the aplomb that Richard likes it, doesn't thee, Richard? Suppose a wheel should come off, I suggested. I'm awfully nervous today. I was sure the train would break down or run off the track last night. Then I had horrible dreams at the hotel. Why, Mr. Morton, Miss Warren exclaimed, what did you eat for supper? Bless me, I don't know. Come to think of it, I didn't have any. Did thee have any breakfast? asked Mr. Yocom, who seemed greatly amused. I believe so, I went through the motions. Drive slow, Ruben. Richard's afraid he'll have his neck broken before dinner, and they all had a great laugh at my expense. I've won the plume this time, cried Miss Warren. Thee has indeed, and thee deserves it, sure enough. I looked around at her but could not catch her eyes. My efforts to emulate Mr. Yocom's spirit were superhuman, but my success was indifferent. I was too anxious, too doubtful concerning the girl who was so gentle and yet so strong, she had far more quietude and self-mastery than I, and with good reason, for she was mistress of the situation. Still, I gathered hope every hour, for I felt that her face would not be so happy, so full of brightness, if she proposed to send me away disappointed, or even put me off on further probation. Nevertheless, my Thanksgiving Day would not truly begin until my hope was confirmed. Dinner was smoking on the table when we returned, and it was so exceedingly tempting, that I enjoyed its aroma with much of Mr. Yocom's satisfaction, and I sat down at his right, feeling that if one question were settled, I would be the most thankful man in the land. We bowed our heads in grace, but after a moment Mr. Yocom arose, and with uplifted face, repeated the words that might have been written for the occasion, so wonderfully adapted to human life is the Book of God. Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless his holy name. Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits, who forgiveth all thine iniquities, who healeth all thy diseases, who redeemeth thy life from destruction, who crowneth thee with loving-kindness and tender mercies, who satisfied thy mouth with good things, so that thy youth is renewed like the eagles. Never was there a grace so full of grace before, if a kind earthly father looks with joy on his happy children, so surely the Divine Father must have smiled upon us. In the depths of my heart I respected a faith that was so simple, genuine, and full of sunshine. Truly it had come from heaven, and not from the dyspeptic creeds of cloistered theologians. Father, cried Zilla, thee looked like my picture of King David. Well, I'm in a royal mood, replied her father, and I don't believe King David ever had half so good a dinner as mother has provided. Such a dinner'd Richard is the result of genius, all the cookbooks in the world couldn't account for it, and I don't believe mother has read one of them. The must-give Cynthia part of the credit, protested his wife. She's the woman who says, Lord Amassie, and insists that I was struck with lightning, isn't she? And I glanced toward Miss Warren, but she wouldn't meet my eye. Her deepening color told of a busy memory, however. Mr. Yocum began to laugh so heartily that he dropped his knife and fork on the table, and leaned back in his chair, quite overcome. Father, behave thyself, his wife remonstrated. At last the old gentleman set to work in good earnest. Emily, he said, this is that innocent young gobbler that thee so commiserated, thee hasn't the heart to eat him surely. I'll take a piece of the breast, if you please. Wouldn't thee like his heart? No, I thank you. What part would thee like, Richard? Anything but his wings and legs, they would remind me how soon I must go back to awful New York. Not before second day. Yes, sir, tomorrow morning, and editor's play spells are few and far between. Well, Richard, thee thrives on work, said Mrs. Yocum. Yes, I've found it good for me. And you have done good work, Mr. Morton, added Miss Warren. I like your paper far better now. But you stopped it. Did you find that out? Indeed I did, and very quickly. My cousin, Mrs. Vining, took the paper. Yes, I know that, too. Why, Mr. Morton, do you keep track of all your readers? The circulation of your paper cannot be large. I looked after Mrs. Vining carefully, but no further. I shall certainly tell her of your interest, she said, with her old mirthful gleam. Please do, the people at the office would be agape with wonder, if they knew of the influence, resulting from Mrs. Vining's name being on the subscription list. Not a disastrous influence, I trust. It has occasioned us some hot work, my chief says that nearly all the dragons in the country are stirred up, and some of them have been sorely wounded. I've noted that, too, said the girl, fleshing with pleasure in spite of herself. Yes, please tell Mrs. Vining that also, credit should be given where it's due. Her laugh now rang out with its old-time genuineness. Cousin Adelaide would be more agape than the people of your office. I think the dragons owe their tribulations to your disposition to fight them. If you could see some words in illuminated text over my desk, you would know better. Mr. Yocom, do you think we are going to have an early winter? She asked abruptly with a fine color in her face. I don't think it's going to be cold, not very cold, Emily. There are prospects of a thaw today, and the old gentleman leaned back in his chair and shook with suppressed merriment. Father, behave thyself. Was there ever such a man, Mrs. Yocom exclaimed reproachfully. I know you think there never was and never will be, Mrs. Yocom. I cried, controlling myself with difficulty, for the old gentleman's manner was irresistibly droll, and instead of the pallor that used to make my heart ache, Ms. Warren's face was like a carnation rose. My hope grew apace, for her threatening looks at Mr. Yocom contained no trace of pain or deep annoyance, while the embarrassment she could not hide so enhanced her loveliness that it was a heavy cross to withhold my eager eyes. Ruben kindly came to our relief, for he said, I'll tell thee what it is, mother, we feel as if we ought to have dapple in here with us. Emily, wouldn't thee rather have old plaid, Mr. Yocom asked? No, she replied brusquely, and this set her kind tormenter off once more. But an earnest look soon came into his face, and he said, with eyes moist with feeling, well, this is a time of thanksgiving, and never before in all my life has my heart seemed so full of gladness and gratitude. Richard, I crept in this old home when I was a baby, and I whistled through the house just as Ruben does. In this very room my dear old father trimmed my jacket for me, God bless him. Oh, I deserved it richly, but mother's sorrowful looks cut deeper I can tell thee. It was to this home I brought the prettiest lass in the county. What am I saying? The prettiest lass in the world. No offense to thee, Emily, thee wasn't alive then. If every man had such a home as thee has made for me and the children, mother, the millennium would begin before next thanksgiving. In this house my children were born, and here they have plaid. I've seen their happy faces in every nook and corner, and with everything I have a dear association. In this home we bade goodbye to our dear little Ruth. She's our still mother, and she is at home, too, as we are. But everything in this house that our little angel child touched has become sacred to me. Ah, Richard, there are some things in life that thee hasn't learned yet. And all the books couldn't teach thee, but what I have said to thee reveals a little of my love for this old home. How I love those whom God has given me, only he knows. Well, he directed thy random steps to us one day last June, and we welcomed thee as a stranger. But thee has a different welcome today, Richard, a very different welcome. Thee doesn't like to hear about it, but we never forget. No, Richard, we never forget. Mrs. Yocome breathes softly. Do you think, sir, that I forget the unquestioning hospitality that brought me here? Can you think, Mrs. Yocome, I ever forget the words you spoke to me in yonder parlor on the evening of my arrival? Or that I should have died but for your devoted and merciful care? This day, with its hopes, teaches me how immeasurable would have been my loss, for my prospects then were not bright for either world. Rest assured, dear friends, I have my memories too. The service I rendered you any man would have given, and it was my unspeakable good fortune to be here. But the favors which I have received have been royal. They are such as I could not receive from others, because others would be incapable of bestowing them. You are right, Mr. Morton. Miss Warren began impetuously, her lovely eyes full of tears. I too have received kindnesses that could not come from others, because others would not know how to confer them with your gentleness and mercy, Mrs. Yocome. Oh, oh, I wish I could make you and your husband know how I thank you. I too never forget. But if we talk in this way any more, I shall have to make a hasty retreat. Well, I should say this was a Thanksgiving dinner, remarked Ruben sententiously. Since we couldn't cry we all laughed, and I thanked the boy for letting us down so cleverly, the deep feeling that memories would evoke in spite of ourselves, sank back into the depths of our hearts, the shadow on our faces passed like an April cloud, and the sunshine became all the sweeter and brighter. If Ada were only here, I cried. I miss her more and more every moment, and the occasion seems wholly incomplete without her. Yes, dear child, I miss her too, more than I can tell you, said Mrs. Yocome, her eyes growing very tender and wistful. She's thinking of us, doesn't he think she has improved? She used to read those magazines these sent her till I had to take them away and send her to bed. I can't tell you how proud I am of Ada, it was like a June day to see her fair sweet face in the city, and it would have done your hearts good, if you could have heard how she spoke of you all. Ada is very proud of her big brother too, I can tell thee, she quotes thy opinions on all occasions. The one regret of my visit is that I shall not see her, Miss Warren said earnestly. Mrs. Yocome, I have those roses she gave me the day before I left you last summer, and I shall always keep them, I told cousin Adelaide that they were given to me by the best and most beautiful girl in the world. God bless the girl, ejaculated Mr. Yocome, she has become a great comfort and joy to me, and his wife smiled softly and tenderly. Ada is so good to me, cried Zilla, that if Emily hadn't come I wouldn't have half enjoyed the day. What does thee think of that view of the occasion Richard? asked Mr. Yocome. Zilla and I always agreed well together, I said, but I wish Ada knew how much we miss her. She shall know, said her mother, I truly wish we had all of our children with us today. For Richard, we have adopted thee and Emily without asking your consent, I think the lightning fused us all together. I looked with a quick flash toward Miss Warren, but her eyes were on the mother, and they were full of a daughter's love. Dear Mrs. Yocome, I replied, in a voice not oversteady, you know that as far as fusing was concerned, I was the worst struck of you all, and this day proves that I am no longer without kindred. But how vain the effort to reproduce the light and shade that filled the quaint simple room, how vain the attempt to make the myriad ripples of that hour flow and sparkle again, each one of us meanwhile conscious of the depths beneath them. End of Book Second Chapter 20 Book Second Chapter 21 Of A Day of Fate by Edward P. Rowe This LibriVox recording is in the public domain, recording by like many waters. Book Second Chapter 21 Ripples on Deep Water After dinner was over, Ruben cried, Comzilla, I'm going out with dapple, and I'll give thee a ride that'll settle thy dinner. Emily, thee hasn't petted dapple to-day, thee's very forgetful of one of thy best friends. Do you know, said Miss Warren to me, as we followed the boy, Ruben sent dapple's love to me every time he wrote? It's just what dapple would have done himself if he could, did you refuse to receive it? No, indeed, why should I? Oh, I'm not jealous, only I can't help thinking that the horse had greater privileges than I. She bit her lip and her color deepened, but instead of answering, she tripped away from me toward the barn. Dapple came prancing out and winnied as soon as he saw her. Oh, he knows thee as well as I do, said Ruben. He thinks thee's a jolly good girl, these kind of cut me out, but I owe thee no grudge. See how he'll come to thee now. And sure enough the horse came and put his nose in her hand, where he found a lump of sugar. I won't give you fine words only, dapple, she said, and the beautiful animal's spirited eyes grew mild and gentle, as if he understood her perfectly. Heaven grant that she gives me more than words, I muttered. While Ruben was harnessing dapple, Miss Warren entered the barn, saying, I feel a little remorseful over my treatment of old plod, and I think I will go and speak to him. May I be present at the interview? Certainly. Either the old horse had grown duller and heavier than ever, or else was offended by her long neglect, for he paid her but little attention, and kept his head down in his manger. Dapple would not treat you like that, even if you hadn't a lump of sugar in your hand. Dapple is peculiar, she remarked. Do you mean a little ill-balanced? He was certainly very precipitant on one occasion. Yes, but he had the grace to stop before he did any harm. But suppose he couldn't stop? Did old plod give you any more advice? Mr. Morton, you must curb your editorial habit of inquiring into everything. Am I a dragon? I fear you more than all the dragons put together. Then you are a brave man to stay. Not at all, to run away would be worse than death. What an awful dilemma you are in. It seems to me, however, the coolest veteran in the land could not have made a better dinner while in such peril. I had scarcely eaten anything since yesterday morning. Moreover, I was loyally bound to compliment Mrs. Yocome's efforts in the only way that would satisfy her. That reminds me that I ought to go and help Mrs. Yocome clear away the vast debris of such a dinner. Ms. Warren, I have only this afternoon and evening. Truly, Mr. Morton, the pathos in your tones would move a post. But will it move you? That's the question that concerns me. Will you take a walk with me? Indeed, I think I must go now. If I would not be thought more insensible than a post, wait till I put on more wraps, and do you get your overcoat, sir, or you will take cold. Yes, I'm awfully afraid I shall be chilled, and the overcoat wouldn't help me. Nevertheless, I'll do your bidding in this and in all respects. What a landlike frame of mind, she cried, but her step up the piazza was light and quick. She could not so play with me if she meant to be cruel, for she has not a feline trait, I murmured, as I pulled on my Ulster. This genial day has been my ally, and she has not the heart to embitter it. So far from finding other interests, she must have seen that time has intensified the one chief interest of my life. Oh, it would be like death to be sent away again. How beautiful she has become in her renewed health, her great spiritual eyes make me more conscious of the woman angel within her than of a flesh and blood girl. Human she is indeed, but never of the earth, earthy, even when I take her hand, now again so plump and pretty, I feel the exquisite thrill of her life within. It's like touching a spirit or such a thing possible. I crushed her hand this morning, brute that I was, it's been red all day. Well, heaven speed me now. What, talking to yourself again, Mr. Morton, asked Miss Warren, suddenly appearing, and looking anything but spirit-like, with her rich color and substantial raps. It's a habit of lonely people, I said. The idea of a man being lonely among such crowds as you must meet. I have yet to learn that a crowd makes company. Wouldn't you like to ask Mr. Yocom to go with us? No, I replied very brusquely. I fear your lamb-like mood is passing away. Not at all, moreover I'm a victim of remorse, I hurt your hand this morning. Yes, you did. I've hurt you a great many times. I'm alive thank you and have had a good dinner. Yes, you are very much alive, are you very amiable after dinner? No, that's a trait belonging to men alone. I now understand your lamb-like mood, but where are you going, Mr. Morton? You are walking at random and have brought up against the barn. Oh, I see, wouldn't you like to visit Old Plot again? No, I thank you, he has forgotten me. By the way, we are friends, are we not, and can be very confidential? If you have any doubt, you had better be prudent and reticent. I wish I could find some sweet briar, I'd give you the whole bush. Do you think I deserve a thorny experience? You know what I think, when was there an hour when you did not look through me as if I were glass, but we are confidential friends, are we not? Well, for the sake of argument, we may imagine ourselves such. To be logical, then, I must tell of you something of which I have not yet spoken to anyone. I called on Ada the evening I learned she was in town, and I saw her enter an elegant coop driven by a coachman in stunning livery. A millionaire of your acquaintance accompanied her. What, she exclaimed, her face becoming fairly radiant. I nodded very significantly. For shame, Mr. Morton, what a gossip you are, but her laugh rang out like a chime of silver bells. At that moment Mr. Yocom appeared on the piazza, and he applauded loudly. Good for thee, Emily, he cried. That sounds like old times. Come away quick, I said, and I strode rapidly around the barn. Do you expect me to keep up with you? She asked, stopping short and looking so peckant and tempting, that I rejoined her instantly. I'll go as slow as you please, I'll do anything under heaven you bid me. You treated Mr. Yocom very shabbily. You won't make me go after him, will you? Why, Mr. Morton, what base in gratitude, and after such a dinner, too? You know how ill-balanced I am. I fear you are growing worse and worse. I am indeed, left to myself, I should be the most unbalanced man in the world. Mr. Morton, your mind is clearly unsettled. I detected the truth the first day I saw you. No, my mind, such as it is, is made up irrevocably and forever. I must tell you that I can't afford to keep a coop. There is a beautiful sequence in your remarks, then you ought not to keep one, but why complain? There are always omnibuses within call. Are you fond of writing in an omnibus? What an irrelevant question. Suppose I followed your example and asked what you think of the Copernican system. You can't be ill-balanced if you try, and your question is not in the least irrelevant. The Copernican system is true and illustrates my position exactly. There is a heavenly body, radiant with light and beauty, that attracts me irresistibly. The moment I came within her influence, my orbit was fixed. Isn't your orbit a little eccentric, she asked, with averted face? Still, your figure may be very apt. Another body of greater attraction would carry you off into space. There is no such body in existence. Mr. Morton, we were talking about omnibuses. And you have not answered my question. Since we are such confidential friends, I will tell you a profound secret. I prefer streetcars to omnibuses. And would much rather ride in one than in a carriage that I could not pay for. Well now, that's sensible. Yes, quite a matter of fact. Where are you going, Mr. Morton? Wherever you wish, even to Columbus. What? Run away from your work and duty? Where is your conscience? Where my heart is? Oh, both are in Columbus. I should think it inconvenient to have them so far off. I tried to look in her eyes, but she turned them away. I can prove that my conscience was in Columbus. I consulted you on every question I discussed in the paper. Nonsense, you never wrote me a line. I was enjoined not to, in a way that made my blood run cold. But I thought Mrs. Vining's opinions might be influenced by a member of her family, and I never wrote a line unmindful of that influence. Again her laugh rang out. I should call the place where you wrote the circumlocution office. Well, to keep up your way of doing things, that member of the family read most critically all you wrote. How could you tell my work from that of others? Oh, I could tell every line from your hand as if spoken to me. Well, fair critic, never compliment a critic. It makes them more severe. I could do so much better if you were in New York. What do you expect me to go into the newspaper business? You are in it now. You are guiding me. You are the inspiration of my best work, and you know it. We had now reached a point where the lane wound through a hemlock grove. My hope was glad and strong, but I resolved at once to remove all shadow of fear, and I shrank from further probation. Therefore I stopped decisively and said in a voice that faltered not a little. Emily, our light words are but ripples that cover depths, which in my case reached down through life and beyond it. You are my fate. I knew it the first day I met you. I know it now with absolute conviction. She turned a little away from me and trembled. Do you remember this, I asked, and I took from my pocketbook, The Withered York and Lancaster Rosebud. She gave it a dark glance, and her crimson face grew pale. Too well, she replied in a low tone. I threw it down and ground it under my heel. Then, removing my hat, I said, I am at your mercy, you are the stronger, and your foot is on my neck. She turned on me instantly, and her face was aflame with her eager imperious demand to know the truth. Taking both my hands in a tense strong grasp, she looked into my eyes as if she would read my very soul. Richard, she said, in a voice that was half in treaty, half command. In God's name, tell me the truth, the whole truth. Do you respect me at heart? Do you trust me? Can you trust me as Mr. Yocom trusts his wife? I will make no comparisons, I replied gently. Like the widow in the Bible, I give you all I have. Her tense grasp relaxed. Her searching eyes melted into love itself. And I snatched her to my heart. What were the millions I lost compared with this dowry? She murmured. I knew it. I've known it all day. Ever since you crushed my hand, oh Richard, your rude touch healed a sore heart. Emily, I said with a low laugh, that June day was the day of fate after all. It was indeed. I wish I could make you know how gladly I accept mine. Oh Richard, I nearly killed myself trying not to love you. It was fate, or something better. Then suppose we change the figure and say our match was made in heaven. I will not attempt to describe that evening at the farmhouse. We were made to feel that it was our own dear home, a safe quiet haven ever open to us, when we wished to escape from the turmoil of the world. I thank God for our friends there, and their unchanging truth. I accompanied Emily to Columbus, but I went after her again in the spring, and for a time she made her home with Mrs. Yocom. Ada was married at Mrs. Winfield's large city mansion, for Mr. Hearn had a host of relatives and friends whom he wished present. The farmhouse would not have held a tithe of them, and the banker was so proud of his fair country flower, that he seemed to want the whole world to see her. We were married on the anniversary of the day of our fate, and in the old garden where I first met my Eve, my truth. She has never tempted me to ought save good deeds and brave work. THE END END OF BOOK SECOND CHAPTER XXI END OF A DAY OF FATE by Edward P. Rowe