 CHAPTER IX The view which disturbed Dr. Everett was simply that of a young man and woman. He stopped in the street and looked after the two. As absorbed in each other, they failed to discover his presence, but walked gaily on. Loud-boist the young lady was. Her tones and her laughter indicating an excited state of enjoyment altogether too marked for the crowded street. It was Hester Mason. There was no mistaking the peculiar tones of voice, even though the colors of her dress had not by this time been stamped on Dr. Everett's memory. The young man who walked so contentedly by her side was Austin Barrows. It was this that jarred Dr. Everett. He had designs on the young man, hoped much for him, was watching him in all earnestness and laying plans for his advance. But advancement did not lie in that direction. It was impossible to hope for refining influences in connection with Hester Mason. Neither, on the other hand, was it a profitable companionship for her. Hopeful as he might be in regard to Austin Barrows's future, there was altogether too much yet undone to make it safe for Hester Mason to be much in his society. Yet evidently these two did not accord with this decision. They were eminently satisfied with each other if one might judge by the glimpse of pleasure which their faces showed as they passed. What could be done? There was, in Hester's case, no mother to appeal to to say to her, Your daughter is in danger. The young man with whom she walks the streets is not a wise companion for her. And although Austin Barrows had a mother, it was evident either that she had not much influence over him or that she did not exert it in the right direction. Mechanically the doctor had turned and walked in the direction of the two who filled his thoughts. Not that he meant to follow them, he had no definite end in view. But it troubled him yet more to see them disappear within one of the entrances to a public hall. He recalled the fact that he had heard of a dance which was to take place there that evening. Not exactly an improper place was this hall in the broad sense of the term. Probably three-fourths, perhaps more than that proportion, of the young people who would gather there for the evening's amusement were from respectable quarters of the city and would conduct themselves in a comparatively respectable manner. I use the phrase thoughtfully there are degrees of respectability. Mrs. Saunders would not for an instant have thought of permitting her joy to join the company in that hall. Yet at the same time it would not have occurred to her as a hopelessly improper thing if the shop girl who occupied a room in her fifth story back had chosen to spend an evening there. But Dr. Everett was sure that the two who tripped up the steps would get no benefit from such a gathering. He walked slowly past the brilliantly lighted hall and pondered. Why should not these two and hundreds of other twos seek their pleasures in such ways? The flood of light that streamed from each window was suggestive of warmth and comfort within, and the music which floated softly down to the outside world was gay and winning. What was being done, or a question more to the point just now, what could be done, at least in individual cases, to counteract these influences? It made him think of the sunset room again. This room in Mrs. Saunders' house was so called because it was situated that the glow of sunset always lighted it up with strange brilliancy and because joy had studied the combinations of colors so skillfully that in that room they repeated and intensified the outside glory. Yet there was not an expensive article in the room. It was small and the carpet was a glow with bright colored autumn leaves on a pretty ground. There was an open grate where always in winter the sort of coal was burning which would bear poking and shoot up into glorious flames. An old fashioned lounge covered with gay cretan and sunset colors again having great soft luxurious pillows, three of them belonging to it occupied a cozy niche between the grate and the hall door. While the other corner was literally filled up with a great homemade chair, cushioned arms and back and sides covered in the same cretan and adorned with a delicate cream colored tidy sewed fast. No tales did the chair tell of having once been a barrel so large that it might almost have been called a hog's head. Possibly it had forgotten all those early humiliating experiences when a certain ill smelling liquid filled it to the brim. Or it may be that the bit of crimson which formed the tidy's edge was a blush of remembrance. Who can tell? Certain of this were all who were acquainted with its depth that a more comfortable chair or a more home like corner was not to be found in the city. Other chairs there were, easy most of them, homemade most of them, save a smart little cane seated rocker which was Joy's special seat. And there were touches of taste and refinement here and there. A peculiar shell from the Pacific coast which a border had given to Joy. A spray of real coral from another far away shore and engraving or two hanging in just the right light. A full length picture of a soldier in uniform whose eyes Joy had and a touch of whose expression hovered about her mouth so that people often said, Mrs. Saunders she is very like her father. A hundred little prettinesses had from time to time crept into this choice room, now for the uses of the room. Mrs. Saunders being called upon to state would have said that it had no use save as it was a place where she and Joy hid when they felt like it. Once Joy called it, speaking low to Dr. Everett, a photograph of home, for there were features connected with the large boarding house that the girl disliked, though she did not say so to her mother. Few were the strangers introduced to this room. How did it chance that Dr. Everett before he had been for a week a member of the family was installed there as one who had a sort of right to its home atmosphere. Mrs. Saunders puzzled over it a little herself. She had asked him in one evening because they were talking about something that interested her much, something that she wanted to hear more of quietly. And his eyes had lighted with such a sense of appreciation and he had walked over to the easy chair and seated himself with such a satisfied, ah, and a bright, Mrs. Saunders, do you believe a tired man like myself will relinquish this seat again? That she could not help telling him to come there when he felt tired and rest. He worked hard and had little time for resting. After that he had waited for no second invitation but came to the sunset room whenever he chose, always knocking it is true and always in numberless little ways recognizing it as a bit of home privacy to which he came only by invitation. Yet he often came. This is the council chamber where his servants meet to talk over affairs which concern the king. He had said half laughing, half reverently one evening, as they turned to leave the room. They had been talking about the boys in Mrs. Saunders's class. She liked the ring of the sentence and thought of it afterwards and wondered in what way she could use the room in his service. So she at last was prepared to meet the doctor halfway when he said one evening having knocked at the door and gained admittance and found Joy and her mother alone as he had hoped and had talked with them but a moment on general questions. I wish Mrs. Saunders and Miss Joy we could make the sunshine in this room reach one heart that, if I am not mistaken, is being caught by false glitter. What now doctor? Mrs. Saunders was not always able to follow his metaphors but she believed in him thoroughly and he gave her enough of the practical side of questions to keep her busy. He turned toward her smiling. You don't believe in imagery Mrs. Saunders. Do you know Hester Mason? The loud-voiced girl in Miss Mason's class who comes one Sunday and stays away three? Yes I had the curiosity to ask her name. She giggled so much and whispered and tried to attract the attention of my boys. I don't believe I know much good about her. I don't fancy the girl. Yet she is one of those daughters about whom you and I were talking the other night. Her mother went and left her long ago but who knows what a sore heart she may have carried even to the verge of the grave over the thought of leaving her baby. What do you want to do for her? It was Mrs. Saunders abrupt way of saying that she was vanquished and he might count on her help in doing what he would. I may want to do many things but I do not at present see my way clear to them. I would like to experiment. What effect do you suppose an afternoon spent in this room in company with Miss Joy would have on her? In this room it gave the mother hard a start to think of Hester Mason received into the home center as her daughter's guest. Did he mean that? Why how could that be brought about? Precisely what I don't see unless Miss Joy can cast a spell about her and weave her into the sunshine here and hold her bewitched for an hour or two. And what would that accomplish? Mrs. Saunders' tones were brusque. She did not like the plan. The doctor had turned from her as he spoke and was looking at Joy. He faced round again. I don't know. That is what I would like to discover. I fancy that she may never have seen the inside of a home and felt the atmosphere of a mother and heard the voice of culture talking with her in a social way and sat down to a small home table where all the daintinesses of refined life could speak to her. What effect might it possibly have, Mrs. Saunders? What are homes for? Why did he give you one? May it not possibly be that he wants you to show the photograph to others for a purpose? Whether Mrs. Saunders understood the latter part of the sentence or not, Joy did, and her eyes flashed a sympathetic answer. Mrs. Saunders saw it, felt the power of the first half of the sentence, and spoke meekly. Whatever you and Joy want to do, I'm willing, though I don't pretend to understand half that you are after. The room is none too good to use in any way that seems to you to be for anybody's help. What is he after, Joy? Can you make it out? Joy laughed, a low, sweet laugh. Copying photograph's mother, she said, her eyes brimming with mischief, then she grew suddenly grave. I don't think I understand doctor any better than mother does. I would like to help the girl, her face haunts me, and I would like her to know mother and see our little piece of home if that would do her any good. But how could it be brought about? Could I invite her? Why, of course I could, to come and see me. But would she come, do you think? And if she did, what could I do to make her feel comfortable and interest her? That last, said the doctor, smiling gravely, is a question that may be difficult to answer. It may be necessary to experiment a little before we shall know how to answer it. As to her coming, I think she would. She would be very much astonished, doubtless, over the invitation. But as for shrinking with a sense of incongruity, or with a sensitive feeling of any sort, I fancy that as foreign to her nature. She would be comfortable, too, in a sense. That is, I mean, at her ease. But whether there is that in her, which would really be entertained by you and by your surroundings, remains to be seen. Let us hope and pray that there is. You see, Miss Joy, it is true, as I said. From the glimpses which I have had of her aunt's face, I feel sure she has no home. And what can a girl do without a home and a mother? I don't know. Joy said it simply, but with intense gravity, as one to whom the sense of loss which that word without conveyed was beyond expression. Dr. Everett's next sentence shadowed her face and cleared her mother's. One feature of the plan I would like to see tried involves an attempt to bring her into closer acquaintance with her Sabbath school teacher. If Miss Mason is going to do anything for her on Sabbath, she should become acquainted with her weekday character. I have thought about it earnestly this evening. Her home will not do. It is too set apart and stately. Too far removed from any idea of home. That is, I mean, the room in which she receives her friends. It is simply a parlor after the approved sort. It would not say anything but money to a girl like Hester Mason. And then her teacher would not know what in the world to do with her. In fact, I have very little idea that she would consent to try the experiment of inviting her, except perhaps in a patronizing way, as one of the lower classes, which is not what I mean at all. But I have thought that if she could meet the girl here with you and your mother to bridge over the gulf that separates them, by being always able to remember that both ought to belong to Christ and become sisters in him, perhaps much might be accomplished. Could you manage to bring about such a strange order of events, do you think? Then spoke Mrs. Saunders briskly. She began to get a glimpse of the doctor's meaning. He was not filling his mind with a wild notion that that mason girl was on an equality with her joy and must be invited and visited with as an equal. He was simply anxious to bring teacher and pupil together that they might learn more of each other, and he felt the necessity of using joy's tact and quick-wittedness to bring it about. That's easily managed, she said. Joy can ask Miss Mason here to meet the girl and help them to get acquainted. Of course she can. I'll risk joy at managing such things. And they can have tea in here. I'll get the poor girl a good supper for once in her life. It's a nice plan, doctor, now that I understand it. I wonder I've never thought to do some such thing. But Joy was silent, her face grave and a trifle perplexed. After Dr. Everett went away, being called by the ringing of his night bell, before he was ready to go, she brought some of the shadow into life and laid it before her mother. Dr. Everett is always finding hard things for me to do. Hard things, child. I think he keeps the hard things for himself and gives you the pleasant ones. I'm sure he has a hard enough time of it. Here he has been running around since before daylight and now he must go off again. And it is an ugly dark night and half rains, half snows, the meanest kind of a night. I don't like halfway doings with the weather nor anything else. I'd rather it would downright storm any time than mince at it. What is there hard about inviting that poor thing to supper? I should think you would like it. It isn't the poor thing, mother. It is the rich one. I wish you hadn't helped him along. How can I invite Miss Mason here to take tea with me? And why can't you pray? I'll warrant you can give her as good a tea as she can get at home. I'll make some of my cream muffins for her and scallop some oysters in a way that no hired help ever thought of doing. She'll like it. You may depend. Oh, mother, it isn't the muffins nor the oysters. Joy looked half vexed though she laughed. Don't you know she has never called on me and has no idea of doing so? Think of my going around there and inviting her to come and take tea. It will look just as though I was creeping after her and coaxing myself into her circle, and I don't belong to it and don't want to. Well, as to that child, you are Joy Saunders, the daughter of James L. Saunders, a brave soldier, and the granddaughter of Adoniram Saunders, and belong to your own circle without any particular need of creeping after any other. It would be hard to find better blood than yours, and money counts very little with real folks you'll find. I wouldn't exchange my grandfather for all the masons of three generations together. You know that, mother, but I don't like to appear to creep after people who have money and live in grand houses, especially people who do not notice me. Oh, well, said Mrs. Saunders soothingly, there isn't the least danger of anybody thinking any such thing. You can tell Miss Mason that it is the doctor's plan for giving her a chance to get acquainted with the girl without giving her any trouble about it, and she needn't come unless she likes, of course. You don't invite her to visit you. It's just lending the room and the supper as a kind of accommodation. As to that child, suppose she does think you are creeping? Can't you take the name of creeping, if the king wants you to? If you are his servant, you needn't be above his work. It is no more than they said of him. There isn't a mean, low motive that you can think of but what some of the Pharisees hinted that it was the object for which he was working. I guess you can stand it if he could. Did she know her daughter so well that she brought forth this unanswerable argument at the last? Not a word of her soothing explanation as to the object for inviting Miss Mason did joy accept, but this last was from another standpoint. If it was really and truly work for him, she was willing even to creep. Yet she told herself, as she went up to her room, that it was a very hard thing for her to do to invite Miss Mason to take tea with her in the sunset room. CHAPTER X INVITATIONS However, after much worrying as to how she should invite Miss Mason in a way to make her understand the exact cause for the invitation, and how she should make Hester Mason think she really and honestly wanted her to come to tea, it all shaped itself naturally and pleasantly. At least so joy-thought. To be sure she had to go through the ordeal of inviting Miss Mason, and that lady was sufficiently astonished to make it a trifle uncomfortable, but she was on the eve of departure for a week's visit and had to decline. Still, on reflection, even the astonishment was not all unpleasant. To meet Hester Mason at your house. Why, does she visit at your house? Oh, I understand. You are asking her there in order to help her. That is very sweet in you. I never should have thought of it. But what will you do with her? Don't you dread it? Isn't she a strange character? I wish I were going to be at home to help you, though I shouldn't know in the least what to say. Oh, it is Dr. Everett's idea. What a singular man he is. So full of whims. Oh yes, the Sabbath school is very much improved since he took hold of it, but it is harder work to teach somehow. It seems as though he were listening to every word one said. Even when he is at the other end of the room, it makes me nervous. I'm continually wondering whether it is the right thing to say. Well, I hope you will have success with Hester. Isn't it ridiculous that she has our family name? I think I shall be interested in her marriage. Dr. Everett is real good, and he gives one ever so many new ideas. I might accomplish something by inviting the girl to my house. I don't know exactly what, but it seems as though one ought to try. It does put notions into one's head to see other people at work. Do you go to the party tonight, Miss Saunders? Oh, I beg your pardon. You don't visit at the Belmonts, do you? Was that last question asked spitefully with the intention of leaving a little sting in the shape of a reminder that the Belmonts and people in their circle did not invite her to their parties? Joyce Saunders pondered over this question as she walked down the street and came to the conclusion that there was no intention of stinging. It was simply one of Miss Mason's blundering sentences, plunging into the midst of things without thought and then retreating with an apology that pointed the embarrassment. Nevertheless it lightened Joyce's heart to remember that Miss Mason could not be at the proposed tea party. It could not be postponed for Hester was already invited, and this too had happened and been carried out in a most natural manner. Joy, in a discouraging search for a match to a certain piece of goods on which her mother had set her heart, wandered out of her usual beat into the store where Hester Mason spent her days as a shop girl. Joy caught a glimpse of her behind a distant counter and bowed and smiled. The girl's face flushed gratefully. Evidently the recognition pleased her. Then, but for the thought of Dr. Everett's plan, Joy would have gone complacently from the store. Glad that she had by so much recognized the girl's kinship. As it was she lingered. What was there that might be said now to help to make a path for a future invitation? Hester was engaged in trying to sell a bright colored crocheted trifle known to the initiated as a sea foam to a young girl of about her own age. She had placed it on the girl's head, tied the ribbons gracefully, and stood back in admiration. It fits you to a dot, she said in hearty triumph. You'd better take it. I don't believe you'll find another in the city like it. Did she really think that, Joy wondered, or was it part of her business? At that moment Hester turned toward her. Isn't it pretty, she said, catching the direction of Joy's eye? And doesn't she look nice in it? Then was Joy thankful that she could heartily respond in the affirmative to both questions, although the young buyer turned on her a haughty stare as if to remind her that she was giving her opinion unasked by the person most concerned, and hastily untieing the hood adjusted her hat and walked away. Hester laughed. She is foolish, she said. It is the prettiest color I ever saw, and she looks like a beauty in it. I think they are a lovely shape. We never had any so nice before. I'd have one myself if I could afford it. The sentence ended in a little sigh. Joy caught at the opening opportunity. They are not expensive at all when you make them yourself, and I think they are much prettier than those you buy. Oh, so do I, but then you see I don't know how to make one. I should as soon think of trying to build a house. The stitch is very simple, and it is rapid work. I crocheted one like this in two evenings. Wouldn't you like to learn and make one for yourself? Joy knew that her voice was eager and did not wonder that Hester regarded her in silent amazement for a moment. Why, I should like it of all things, she said at last, but I don't know who would teach me, I am sure. There isn't a girl in the store who knows the stitch. We were talking about it yesterday. We don't get any time for fancy work. But you have certain afternoons occasionally to yourselves, have you not? Oh yes, once a month when it isn't the busy season, but we always contrive to have so much on hand for that afternoon that half of it never gets done. And then besides, only one of us gets out at a time, and she can't teach herself things. It is an awful busy life, Miss Saunders. You people who don't have anything to do can't tell much about it. Joy laughed and took a moment for moralizing. Hester Mason, from her standpoint, believed that she, Joy Saunders, had nothing to do, while Miss Mason, no doubt, would have looked upon her life as an exceedingly laborious one. Was she not cake maker and dessert maker for the family of boarders, besides having the dusting and arranging to do? Was there a stratum below Hester Mason that had no afternoons once a month, and that would consider Hester's position one of ease and comfort? She knew that such was the case, and it made her face shadow to think of the infinite depths below, of which she had only faint conjectures, and about which her mother's firmly closed lips and darkening eyebrows told her all she knew. What a world it was, so much to do, and she could only put her hand out an inch and give an upward touch to a girl who was above the depths, on the comfortable side already. Perhaps she could not even do that. Hester was regarding her with curious eyes. She made haste back into her world. When is your next afternoon out to be, speaking with an interest that increased the girl's wonder? Why, on Thursday of next week, unless there is a great rush for something, or unless some girl I know is sick, and I give up my chance to her, we do such things often, have to be accommodating, you know? Then suppose, if nothing prevents your freedom, that you spend the afternoon with me and learn this stitch, and make yourself a sea foam. I can show you how to shape it, wouldn't you like to? With you, where? The girl's tones were simply curious. Why, at my home, of course, I live just out of Lexington Avenue. I know where you live, interrupted the girl. Dr. Everett boards at your house, doesn't he? Why, I should like it of all things, of course. Only I—it seems a pity to trouble you. She hesitated over this sentence, and did not know how to express her thought. There was a curious sense of gratitude and wonderment as to why Joy Saunders should take the trouble. It will be a pleasure, Joy said eagerly, and felt that her words were very sincere. I should like to have you come, and you will need to be as early as you can and take tea, and spend the evening with me, for, of course, there will be a great deal to learn. Only about the getting home, how will you manage that? Oh, there would be no trouble about that! Hester's loud, amused voice grated on Joy's ear. I can go home alone at ten o'clock as well as any other time. But aren't you afraid to do that when the city is so full of bad people? Joy could not keep the sense of having been shocked out of her tones. But the girl laughed. What good would it do to be afraid? she asked. We girls have to go from the store at midnight often during the holiday season. We have to go home after dark every winter night of our lives, and nine times out of ten something happens to hinder one or two of us until eight or nine o'clock or later. Where's the good of being cowardly about it? Poor folks, you see, have to get used to things. I used to be awful skittish at first, though, she added, as if in sympathy with Joy's ideas, but nobody ever hurt me. Was that true, Joy wondered? Had not the forced exposure to the streets and the cars and the crowds hurt her face, her manner and heart? Must this of necessity be the case? If so, wherein lay the remedy? Here was her own sheltered life, for instance. What would her mother think of an evening streetcar ride for her, unprotected by someone in whom that mother reposed absolute confidence? What would she think of her walking the square between her home and the streetcar in the evening alone? What would tempt her to allow Joy to go at all in the vicinity which this girl lived? But how could the girl help it? Was she to be blamed then, if her life and its inevitable necessities pushed her out into a world from which Joy was forever held back? All this was the open door to a world of puzzles. She must not stop over them now. She went gaily home to assure her mother that the muffins must be ready for the following Thursday and that she desired them to be unprecedentedly good. And Miss Mason won't be at home, remarked the mother. That's too bad. The doctor wanted to get a hold on her, I think, and I was willing she should have some of my muffins. I suppose you couldn't have contrived to postpone the visit until she got home? No, indeed, Joy said with marked satisfaction. She felt very jubilant, having done her duty toward Miss Mason and escaped the embarrassment of her presence. Preparations for entertaining her guest went on steadily. Just how she should manage the matter of conversation, Joy failed to see, and at last she put it resolutely from her, resolved to do her best and leave the rest. Preparations also went on elsewhere. It was early in the morning in Hester Mason's home and she flew about her room with unusual speed and came in presently dressed with unusual care. Much color about her dress, of course, yet there had been an effort at special neatness, a carefulness as to details that was not natural to the girl. Hester Mason's home was a representative one, speaking for a large number of homes in a large city. It was not exactly medium, neither was it by any means the lowest type. Poverty it is true there was, at least the sort of poverty which most people mean when they use the word. A bare floor saved for the bit of carpet on which the ant rested her feet as she sat all day and sewed. Not many chairs and those of the hardest. North windows, two of them with plain, dark, cheap paper for curtains. A common table covered with an oilcloth spread. This was about the extent of the furniture. But the windows were clean, so was the floor, so was the plain black dress of the woman who sat and sewed. Her hair, too, was combed straight back, stretched across an uncompromising forehead. Her lips were thin and shut closely. And her gray eyes were keen and sharp as the needle that she drove through the heavy cloth. Not a gleam of brightness about the room or its occupant. And here was this girl tingling to the finger ends with passionate worship for all that is bright and gay, shut into the four walls of this room and the bedroom opening out of it, which she shared with her ant. And they were to her all that she knew of home. Infinitely above the swarming tenement houses with their chairless, fireless, filthy rooms. Oh yes, indeed. But how infinitely below the sunset room at Joy Saunders's. The stern-faced ant regarded her niece with a dissatisfied and disapproving air. She had always something to disapprove and was so accustomed to it that she prepared herself even before the occasion offered. She saw occasion now. Dressed in your best, I declare, the next thing you will have to have a silk dress to wear to the store. I hope so. In serene good nature. I'd like a green one, sea foam green, the new shade you know, with pale pink ribbons to match. That's the style, only I don't like pale things. I think rose color would look prettier. I shall not be home to supper. What now? That's no news, though. You are not home to supper half the time. If you choose to go without your supper so often, I don't know as I care. Pester laughed. Yes, but instead of going without, this time I am going out to supper. What do you think of that? Pester Mason, she said in an impressive tone. What is going on now? Who has invited you and why? It is little Joy Saunders whose face is as pretty as a lily. She lives near Lexington Avenue with her mother and she has invited me to spend the afternoon and stay to supper and learn to make a hood. And if you are good, I'll make one for you. As to why she invited me, I don't know, but I strongly suspect it is because she is good. Pester's boys had taken a touch of tenderness despite her effort to be gay. Joy's invitation had softened her. She tied her poor little lunch into a brown paper and hastened away, leaving her aunt in a maze of doubt as to whether Pester had really gone so far astray as to deceive her with a trumped-up sword. It is the story of this sort to cover a wild frolic that she was not willing to own. CHAPTER 11 CROSS PURPOSES Now it happened that there was an occupant of the sunset room on that Thursday afternoon for whose presence Joy had not planned. It came about on this wise. Dr. Everett spent many of his leisure moments at Young Parks's bedside and did for him all that care and skill could, yet the young man rallied slowly. He had had a narrower escape than he knew and shattered nerves weakened by late hours and careless habits in many directions refused to respond rapidly to treatment. It must be confessed also that Robert did what he could to retard matters by chafing over this enforced rest and worrying much about doctor's bills and board bills and the fear of losing his situation. This last the doctor set his heart at rest upon by showing him a written promise from the senior partner of the firm to hold the situation open until the patient was pronounced well enough to return to work. He happens to be a friend of mine, explained the doctor, and he readily agreed to the arrangement. So Robert added this to the long list of kindnesses received from Dr. Everett and continued to puzzle his tired brains over the question, how should he ever repay? Meantime the doctor was planning to get his patient downstairs. If I should pick up my young man and land him in the easy chair in the sunset room some afternoon, what would you say? This he asked Mrs. Saunders and she had responded heartily. I should say he was three times welcome and I'd said about getting him a nice supper. Mrs. Saunders was apt to agree with whatever Dr. Everett proposed. Given such a cheery permission, the doctor had settled on this particular Thursday for carrying out his designs and had Robert tucked comfortably among the cushions when joy came in to see that everything was ready for her guest. Had he known of the expected guest, this movement on the doctor's part would certainly not have been made. He saw nothing in Robert Parks calculated to be in any sense a help to Hester Mason and certainly she was the last person who could help him. But Joyce Saunders had perversely kept her own counsel as to the time for carrying out the doctor's suggestions. She did not want him hovering around listening to her trying to talk with Hester Mason. She told her mother, Hester would be afraid of him. She was herself about half the time and if she were to entertain the girl she must do it in her own fashion. It would be time enough for the doctor to discover the success of his proposition when he came to his six o'clock dinner. He might come in after dinner and experiment if he would, but for the afternoon while the stitch for the hood was being learned she would have none of him. Therefore they worked at cross-purposes and she stopped midway in the room and gazed at Robert Parks in a surprise that was not unmingled with dismay. What was she to do with him while she taught the stitch for the new hood? Well, he said, I'm not an apparition, real flesh and blood. What have I done that you shouldn't have a word for me? How do you do? She said, coming gravely towards him and extending her hand. You have given me a surprise. I did not think you were well enough to be down. Does Dr. Everett know it? Dr. Everett knows most things I fancy and plans them. At least he seems to have the shaping of them to a surprising degree. I have a right to quarrel with you. Why have you deserted me during all these days? I was left to make Rayoboam's acquaintance in the best way I could. Have you been near me since that first morning? Oh yes, quite near you. I sat outside the door for hours while you were sleeping, ready to answer the bell. I wish I had known it. I would have awakened it once and rung it. Nobody ever seemed to answer it but that rosy-headed damsel who omits all her Gs. I take it as very cruel in you to desert a fellow in his sore need. Why didn't you come to see me occasionally? Mother came in my place, said joy quietly, and added, I am glad to see you so much better and able to be downstairs. If you will let me move your chair a little, I can screen your face from the glare of the fire. While she did this and other little things to make him comfortable, he mean time watching her grave face with a satisfied air, she wondered what she could do with Hester Mason. It would not do to banish him. No other room was so well suited to an invalid. Neither did another room in the house promise the privacy that she desired in carrying out her experiment. Why could not Dr. Everett have given her a chance to plan better? Even while she wondered this, she smiled at her own folly. Why should he have considered it necessary to explain to her that his patient was coming downstairs today? Still, he might have thought that they possibly had uses for their sunset room. It is our only speck of privacy, she told herself in an injured tone, for it used to be, it seems to have lost even that. She had little time for thought. The opening door revealed her mother and Hester Mason brought directly to that room by her own express command. She went forward to meet and introduce her to Robert Parks. There was really no other way. Apparently Hester cared for no other way. The presence of a handsome young man in an interesting state of invalidism was by no means an unpleasant feature of the situation. She was not in the least embarrassed, but was bright and sunny, and if loud voiced still, it sounded enough like a whiff of the outside world for young Parks to relish it well. Before they were seated or had time for embarrassment, Joy was summoned to the hall. It's that boy from Foster's, explained her mother in a disturbed tone. He says he won't keep you a minute, and he must see you and nobody else. He is in the front hall. I suppose you will have to go, and Joy went. I have seen you before, commenced Hester, directly the door closed after Joy. I remember your face very well. Possibly that is encouraging. Where have I had the honor of being looked at by you? Oh, I didn't look at you much, she detected the sarcasm, but was still good-natured and unconcerned. I remember I thought you looked cross, and I didn't wonder at it, your counter was in such a tumble. I felt half sorry for you, and had a mind to offer to straighten it out. It was when you were rather new at that counter, and Mrs. Eastman had just been trading or pretending to. I know her, she comes into our store occasionally, and turns things upside down and inside out, and asks a hundred and fifty questions, and doesn't buy a penny worth. Then you are in the mercantile business? Oh, yes, like yourself. I own the entire store, of course, and only spend a little time behind the counter for recreation. I suppose you look in at your store occasionally when you are well. You are the senior partner, I believe? Robert Parks laughed a merrier laugh than he had indulged in since his accident. The quickness of the girl amused him. She kept a sober face, but her eyes sparkled roguishly. You might as well be friendly, she said presently in a cheery tone, for you don't look able to walk out of this room, and I am going to stay here all the afternoon. I have come to learn how to make a hood and to stay to tea. That was what she said, and we can have a great deal pleasanter time if you are good-natured and friendly. All right, said Robert, laughing again, and now disarmed. We'll call it a bargain. What is the hood to be, and why are you making it? It is to be crimson, a real rich downright crimson. Lovely color, look if it isn't. Do you know shades, or don't you have to deal with them? As to why I am making it, I hope it is for me to wear sleigh riding and skating and the like. That is one reason why, and another is because she is a nice sweet thing and offered to show me how. Isn't she sweet? Who, Miss Joy? I hardly know her. Robert was growing stiff again. For some reason he did not like to have this girl speak of her with such easy familiarity. You know you admire her very much. Why don't you be honest and say so? People who mean to be friendly must always begin by being honest. I like her, and I know her pretty well, though this afternoon is the second time in my life that I ever spoke to her. Then why are you here? Tone in manner expressed undisguised astonishment. Hester laughed gleefully. I can't tell you. It is twice as much as I understand myself. I'll tell you what I suspect. It is my opinion that she is good, very good. Not one of the sham kind, you know. They are plenty. But I mean a way to the core, and she really would like to have me good, and you too, I daresay. And therefore she helps to take care of you and shows me how to make hoods. But I am afraid she will be disappointed in me. I don't know how it is with you, but there doesn't seem to be enough to me to be real honest good. I could do the make-believe, but some way as I have to live, the real thing would come too hard. What an impudent girl she was, actually putting herself on the same social scale with him and talking as though Miss Joy's friendship for him and kindness to her must be accounted for on the same ground. Yet he could not help liking her. She was so bright and gay and original. After all, why wasn't she his equal, he asked himself cynically. He might have a better knowledge of English grammar than she had, and thanks to his mother he had a purer pronunciation and better manners. But those were trifles easily learned if one had the chance. On the whole he resolved to have a good time with her during this one afternoon whatever she was. He had been bored long enough, it was really time that he had a little fun. So he laid aside his half patronizing manner and meeting her on common ground, indulged in the gayest sort of chatter, until, when Joy returned, the boy from Fosters having kept her many minutes instead of one, they seemed as well acquainted as though they had known each other for months. The rest of the afternoon viewed from Joy's standpoint was a failure. The making of the sea foam progressed nicely, Hester proving herself as quick-witted and deft-fingered as Joy had imagined she might be. But the conversation was the lightest kind of froth. The more silent Joy grew, the more merry did the pair of tongues seem to wax. Whether Robert Parks resented Joy's evident disapprobation, or whether he was really fascinated by the gay girl's fun, did not appear on the surface. Certain it is that he met all her sallys half way, and declared that he was growing better every hour. When Dr. Everett arrived, Joy hardly knew whether she was soothed or irritated by his evident dismay at the state of affairs. But when he chanced to stand near for a moment, near enough to her to say in low tones, If I had been aware of your expecting company this afternoon, I should have advised my patient to remain in seclusion one day longer. She decided to be irritated. What right had Dr. Everett to presume that her mother's private sitting-room would be at the service of patients of his whenever he chose to bring them? Why had he not taken the trouble to inquire whether she expected company, or at least whether his plans would be agreeable? The muffins were excellent, so was Joy's cake, and the oysters Robert Parks declared were actually nicer than those his mother cooked. Notwithstanding which, in the opinion of at least two persons, the supper was a failure, Dr. Everett, invited by Mrs. Saunders to take tea at the round table, exerted himself bravely to be genial and at the same time sensible. He found the task a hard one. Hester Mason, excited by her unusual surroundings, led on by the quick wits of Robert Parks, was in the highest state of jollity, seeming utterly incapable of appreciating a sensible thought. Mrs. Saunders, conscious that matters were going wrong, yet powerless to write them, vibrated uneasily from the select company in the bright room to the larger company in the usual dining-room, and at intervals wished that the doctor hadn't so many newfangled notions that made Joy's cheeks red in attempting to carry out. Directly the supper was concluded, the doctor somewhat peremptorily remanded his patient back to solitude, and went to see that he was made comfortable for the night. But they might as well have allowed him to stay. The opportunities of the afternoon were beyond redemption. If Hester Mason had at any time the slightest intention of being what she called good, the afternoon's frolic had apparently frittered all thoughts of it away. She was good-natured and grateful, assured Joy that she had had a splendid time, and that she thought her hood was just gay, and would never forget what a nice afternoon she had had. And she would make every girl in the crowd nearly die with envy by telling them all about it, and, and, and this was all. No chance for even a suggestive little parting sentence, for Hester's tongue ran wildly, even up to the very last moment when she walked away, attended by grave grey-haired Thomas, who was father to Mrs. Saunders' boy Jim, and half a dozen others besides. Exceedingly amused was Hester at the idea of being guarded to the very door of the streetcar, but she seized the old man's arm and moved off in utmost good humor, glancing back to give a familiar parting nod to Joy, who stood in the doorway apparently looking after her, but really looking at space. Presently Joy turned and went back into the bright little room, where her mother was already at work removing traces of the unusual guests, glancing furtively now and again at her daughter's troubled face, and wondering whether silence were better than speech. The doctor tapped softly and hardly waiting for an invitation entered, and went over to his favorite position, a corner between the open grate and the sofa, where he could lean his elbow on the mantle and look down at Joy. CHAPTER XII. WEAKNESS AND PHILLOSPHY It is true the doctor looked at Joy, but it was her mother to whom he spoke. Mrs. Saunders, we need, I think, a little of your wisdom in this matter. Why are such things? Why, for instance, should we three plan as wisely as we could a bit of net in which to catch this gay young fish who has been with us this afternoon, having good and not evil in mind concerning her, and then one of the plotters be allowed to blunder so egregiously? The last persons who ought to meet socially and influence each other are the young man upstairs and the young girl who has been frolicking with him this evening. They seem to me eminently calculated to do each other harm, and I would have made considerable effort to keep them unknown to each other. Had I imagined that our plan was to be carried into effect today, I would not have done this other thing, you may be sure. I'm sure I supposed Joy had told you, said Mrs. Saunders, trying not to speak irritably to the doctor, trying also not to look with reproachful eyes at Joy. It was hard work. She was a trifle vexed with them both. Why should I, mother? Joy's tones were quiet but cold. How was I to know that it would be a matter of special interest to Dr. Everett that Hester Mason was coming here this afternoon? Of course I had no intention of attaching blame to any but myself, and now the doctor's voice showed to those well acquainted with him that he was just a trifle hurt. I do not wish to interfere with any arrangements. I merely remark that I regret the meeting between these two. I have been worrying a little over the friendship between her and young Barrow's, but of the two I am less afraid of his influence than I am of Robert's, or rather of her influence over him. I hardly know which I dread the most, his or hers, both are bad. Mrs. Saunders rose up from picking shreds of red wool from the carpet and looked inquiringly. Do you mean my Austin Barrow's? Does he go with her? My patience. I'm sorry to hear it. It does seem to me as though Satan was determined to have that boy. It's my opinion she can lend a helping hand to him whenever she wants to. The grimness of Mrs. Saunders' tone, as well as the emphasis on certain words explained her meaning. She thought that poor Hester Mason was entirely capable of furthering Satan's efforts in many directions. Nothing in the girl's bright, bold face, or gay words, had taken hold of her heart. Well, she said, after a thoughtful pause, the book says he make up the wrath of man to praise him. I suppose he can make the blundering of man and of women, too, do the same. We must just leave it with him and try again. The worst feature of it is that we cannot undo what has been done, the doctor said pointedly, and then this disappointed trio separated. As for Joy, she cried a little when she reached the privacy of her room and confessed to herself that the blundering was largely, if not entirely, her fault, if she had not been such a simpleton and had let Dr. Everett know what her plans were. But she said nothing to this to her mother or to him. After this, Dr. Everett's plans seemed to stand in abeyance for several weeks. It was not that his desires grew less or that he gave up any of his hopes, but his ways seemed hedged in. No opportunity offered for advancing any of his schemes. In the meantime, he was painfully conscious that Satan was not idle. He met those two, Austin Barrows and Hester Mason, or those two, Austin Barrows and Delia Curtis, frequently in his comings and goings. Always they seemed to be eagerly and gaily moving in a direction that he would have preferred them not to have chosen. And always they seemed to be sufficient to themselves. They nodded in a satisfied way in answer to his bows, but were either indifferent to his opinion or too low in the social scale to know that his opinion would have been adverse to their pleasures. Meantime, the only satisfaction he derived from Robert Parks's continued weakness was found in the fact that he was thus held aloof from society which could only injure him. That young man was having a wearysome convalescence. He seemed to advance rapidly enough up to a certain point and then to make a halt. At times there came to him a discouraging feeling that his strength was broken, that he would never again be able to rush about through the world as he saw others doing, and the thought was a very bitter one. A life of invalidism was one from which he shrank back in horror. He thought of his father of the miserable days and dreadful nights spent interning wearily from side to side in search of rest which was never found. How could the sun endure such living as that? It did not lessen the pain of this possible prospect to remember with what frequency and energy his father, after a night of unusual suffering, was want to repeat those words. There he may not the rest to the people of God. Not a drop of comfort was in the thought. He understood the sentence less than he did the foreign phrases that were want to be often on his scholarly father's tongue in his younger and brighter days. Persistently did this foolish modern Rehoboam turn away from the fountain of strength and comfort to be found where his father rest in. In truth he was growing irritable over any attempt to impress him in this direction. He was grateful to Dr. Everett but wished that he would mix less religion with his doses of medicine. He was grateful to Mrs. Saunders for her appetizing little efforts to tempt him to eat but would be glad if she could cook without so much seasoning from the Bible. He treasured his mother's letters because they were from his mother but often folded them away with frowns on his face and wished aloud that mother wouldn't always preach. A fellow can't be driven into this thing. He would occasionally tell himself indignantly as a sort of excuse for turning his thoughts away from it. So he spent his time in chafing over his hard lot, pondering the probable length of his doctor's bill and board bill, wondering how they would ever get paid. Wondering how he would live, supposed strength did not come back. Shrinking from the thought of going to the quiet country home to live on his mother, muttering to himself that he would rather die than do that. Being conscious meantime that this matter of dying was not in his hands and that even if it were he was far from ready for it. No wonder that his strength came slowly. He crapped out one day as far as the store and looked about him. But the activity and energy displayed there seemed to confuse him, made his headache, sent him home with a curious feeling of having been wronged or having had his strength taken out of him to add to the life that was all about the store while he lay a helpless wreck and looked on it from a distance. Very much alone he felt during these days. Of joy he saw almost nothing, a glimpse now and then in the sunset room whether he occasionally took refuge from his weariness. But even these glimpses grew rarer. He was made heartily welcome to this room and Mrs. Saunders exerted herself earnestly to make the time hang less heavily. She was willing to bestow much padding on him, but she would have none of joy's efforts in that direction. As for Hester Mason, whether she came any more Robert could not discover without direct questioning which he did not choose, but if she did he was carefully guarded from the sight of her or the sound of her cheery voice. Joy had experimented in that direction sufficiently, so the weary days wore away. A ride would be the best prescription for you young man. It was Dr. Everett's brisk voice addressing him, and a searching look was bestowed on the languid-faced young fellow who played with rather than ate his breakfast. It is a bright winter day. I think you may drive with me on my rounds. Robert's face brightened visibly. He had been longing for the fresh air and a sense of motion without personal effort, and had wondered not a little that the doctor had not proposed something of the sort. To be sure, the prospect of waiting while the doctor made professional calls was not particularly inviting, but it was better than sitting cooped up by the window, watching the unending and uninteresting stream of humanity that passed by. The doctor was a rapid driver, too, and on this particular morning exerted himself to be interesting so that when he suddenly reigned in his horses before a handsome house, Robert admitted that he felt better than he had since the accident. Then you are ready to make some calls with me. You will have to come in. I don't care about your sitting outside facing this wind. Put on a dignified air, and you will be taken for a medical student deeply interested in this case. There was no opportunity to demur. Dr. Everett was as rapid in his movements as he was decided in his directions, and despite his uttered disrelish for the proceeding, Robert presently found himself following the doctor's lead. The house into which they were promptly admitted was an elegant one, a wide, handsome hall, with its rich furnishings, suggested unlimited wealth and cultured taste. Dr. Everett laid aside his outer wrappings, motioning to Robert to do the same, then raced upstairs, still followed slowly by the reluctant medical student. You may sit here, he said at last, a faint smile in his grey eyes, and indicating by his hand the direction of the here. It was certainly a pleasant enough place in which to sit, a large, handsome room, its appointments indicating that it was an invalid's parlor, the sort of parlor which only wealth can produce even for an invalid. There was a bright, clear fire burning in the open grate, a sofa was drawn before it, luxuriating in pillows and cushions of various sizes, and a brilliant afghan lay across the foot. There were rare paintings on the walls, bits of statuary on brackets or in niches here and there, and one entire side of the room was lined with massive bookcases, through whose plate-glass doors shone rows and rows of books and costly binding. The wide center table was drawn with standard magazines and the latest dailies. At the left of the bookcase was a massive writing desk, modeled after the latest pattern, and evidently stocked with every conceivable thing that the student or the professional could need. Ivies wandered about on the lace curtains, and half-blown roses filled several costly vases. A fellow could afford to be sick and lie by for one entire season at least. Robert murmured, sinking into one of the easy chairs with which the beautiful room abounded, whereupon he thought of his father, sick, laid by for many seasons, with no such room as this in which to rest himself. One easy chair, such as that in which he was lounging, might afford the weary frame some minutes of rest. If he were only rich, how quickly he would send one to his father? How much did they cost, he wondered? If he were well again, and should really save all that was possible from his salary, could he hope to buy one before his father's birthday? Then he thought of the unpaid bills and grown softly. If only he had saved during the last two years, he might have had enough laid aside for this rainy day. Why should this sick one have all the delicacies of life about him and his father, so good a man as he, actually suffer sometimes for things that money could supply? It was unjust, he told himself, and then he gave himself to wondering who was sick here and what was the trouble. The doctor had passed into an inner room, from whence presently his voice was heard, speaking cheerily. Well, sir, how do you feel this morning? The sun is very bright, and the air begins to have almost a hint of spring in it. I think you must be better. What the patient said could not be heard save in low feeble murmurs, but the doctor's answer came full and round. Oh, you mustn't be discouraged, had a bad night, eh? Sorry to hear it, but for all that you are really better. You must take my word for it, even though you don't feel so, and try to help yourself along by cheerfulness. That's half the battle. We shall soon have you out taking a ride if the weather keeps reasonable. Then came other murmured words, and the doctor's answer. Oh, never mind your business, you have faithful helpers who are doing their best to try to please you. Besides, my friend, haven't you given the whole matter into the hands of the Lord, and isn't it to his interest to see that everything is as it should be? This bold statement also made Robert sneer. He didn't believe a word of it. Hadn't his father given everything into the Lord's hands years ago, and was anything as it ought to be in his home? Were not all his affairs going to ruin, and was not his mother killing herself with care and anxiety? Nothing was as it should be anywhere even in this home of luxury it seemed. This was evidently a poor dependent, a clerk like himself perhaps, struggling with weakness, and feeling despite the doctor's words that everything was awry. Presently another voice joined the conversation, a ladies. Oh, doctor, I am so glad to hear you say he is better. I felt sure that he must be this morning, though he doesn't think so. He is in such a hurry to be up and out. He hasn't patience to get well. That last medicine doctor acted just like a charm. Indeed, all your medicines do. Easy enough matter to be a doctor, muttered Robert, determined to be out of sorts with everybody. I'd like that sort of life myself, handsome carriage and horses, fast driving, a lounge in such elegant rooms as these, chatting with grateful people, who shower him with compliments, buy and buy a large bill promptly paid, and everlasting gratitude heaped on his head into the bargain. I don't see where the sacrifice comes in, I'm sure. The poor country doctors have a hard time of it, I suppose, but when a man gets to the top, as this one is, it is plain sailing, and he can afford to ride around and preach contentment to other people. Some folks have easy times in this world, and some have abominably hard times, and that's the whole of it, and it is money that makes the difference in not goodness or religion or anything of the sort. Feddered When they were spinning over the road again, Robert had some questions to ask. Is your patient in there very sick? Has been, he is better now, in a fair way to get out again if he doesn't spoil it all by his impatience and fretfulness. He is a cranky sort of patient, thinks he is having the worst time a man ever had in this world, and all that kind of thing. It is queer to me that people don't do more in the way of comparing their lot with others. Is he poor? Poor? Did his surroundings look like it? Why, he is Mr. Katie, the moneyed partner of your own firm. The mischief he is, what did his grumbling mean about his business? I thought I heard him worrying over it, and I fancied he might be a poor clerk accidentally laid aside in the house of his employer, you know, or something of that sort. Not a bit of it, he might possibly be a cheerful man if that were the case. Oh, he worries about business half the time, lays awake nights to worry instead of sleeping as I want him to. He has heavy responsibilities, of course. Probably some money depends on his being on hand to manage certain interests, but he is very far removed from poverty, and would be if his firm should shut down tomorrow. Those people are often the ones who waste the most time in friction over the inevitable. He is a Christian man, too, and that ought to come to his help now, would if he had been used to letting it help him. There are a good many people who do not seem to be helped by that experience as much as they ought, if profession is worth anything, Robert said, and there was an undertone of sarcasm in his voice. That is true, the doctor said emphatically, and it speaks ill for the people who will not allow themselves to be helped, and nothing whatever against the one who always stands ready to help them. If you are going to cavill at religion, young man, you want at least to try to be logical. Shallowness in argument shows plainer on that subject than any other. They had turned into a narrow street where the houses grew every moment poorer and meaner, and at one of the meanest of these tenement houses, the doctor drew rain. Here is a patient of mine, he said. At least I have constituted myself his physician. Come in, the inside air is not particularly agreeable probably. Still you ought to be able to endure for five minutes what they live on. I will not be long, the wind is changing, and I must get you home. What had become of the pleasant side of the medical profession if it brought people of necessity in contact with such developments of life? Something of this was in Robert's thoughts as he followed his guide into the one ill-smelling, comfortless room where a sick man tossed among the soiled bedclothes and a woman in sadly torn dress and uncombed hair stood looking helplessly down at him and three dirty children alternately quarreled and cried in the corner. Good morning, the doctor said cordially. I am Dr. Everett. I told Mrs. Saunders I would call here. You know Mrs. Saunders? Well, I am a friend of hers. What is the trouble here? By this time his cool, skilled fingers were pressed to the throbbing pulse. Presently he issued his orders. Parks, drop the window at your left six inches from the top. My friend, please take two of these quilts off. One is quite sufficient. No, I wouldn't leave the comfortable, either. He will be more comfortable without it. Could you get me a dish of some sort with cold water? That tin basin would do if you were to rinse it. Don't you think you could find a place for the children to play away from this room? The noise is bad for your husband. There is no place for them, sir. Sometimes it seems to me there is no place for them in the world. And the woman lifted a corner of her soiled apron and wiped away great tears from her anxious eyes. Never mind, the doctor said soothingly, it is God's world and he made your little children. You may be sure he has a place for them both in this world and in heaven. Meantime he was unfastening the gold-buttoned cuffs and laying them aside. Robert, the fastidious young man who, with an empty purse and an aching head that refused to be put at anything which would fill the purse, hated poverty and care and coarseness of surrounding with an ever-growing hatred, watched with a kind of fascinated horror and saw the fashionable doctor produce and shake out a fine Canberra cankerchief, deliberately dip it into the basin of water that had been brought and proceed to bathe the sick man's burning face. The wife, too, was horrified, though from a different cause. Are you putting water on him? She exclaimed, dire dismay in her voice. Why, Timmy said there mustn't a drop of water touch him, and he said the window must be kept tight shut and the fire was to burn day and night. And who is Timmy? the doctor asked, keeping up the cool steady passes of the Canberra cankerchief. Why, he is a good friend that has stayed up nights and took care of my Tom, faithful, and helped us all. What I would have done without him is more than I know. He is a good nurse, too, Timmy is, and said we mustn't wash his face and we mustn't open the window at all. Yes, said Dr. Everett, still in his gentlest tone, not the one that he used at the bedside of his wealthy patient, nor yet such in one as he often used to Robert. He is a good friend I have no doubt, and we must be grateful to him, but I'll tell you what it is, he isn't a doctor, and we doctors have all sorts of notions, one of them being that people, sick people especially, must have fresh air to breathe. At this point the sick man murmured something in a weak and feeble tone, the doctor bent over him. Water, he said cheerily, of course you can have all the water you want, bring us some please, the coldest you have, it will refresh him. The poor wife stood aghast, making no motion to obey. I don't know what to do, she moaned. Oh, what will Timmy say? He said it would be deaf to him to drink water, and he has been calling for it all night long, and I don't dare give it to him. The doctor glanced behind him. Parks, get that cup and fill it with water, won't you? Is that water in the pail what you drink, my good woman? Wait a moment, Parks, how fresh is it? See here, do you know Miss Joy Saunders? That she did, the woman declared, and she was an angel in human flesh too. Very well, here is a paper of cookies and playthings in my overcoat pocket which Miss Joy sent to the children, and she sent word that you were to do exactly as I told you. Now my directions are that you get us fresh a cup of water for your husband as the old well out there will furnish. It is another notion that belongs to doctors, and everybody has to obey doctors, you know. With ominous shakes of the head, despite the face which had brightened a little at the mention of Joy Saunders's name, the woman went for water, and before long the sick man, his head supported by the doctor's skilled arm, was taking long drafts of that which had been denied him all through the burning night. Presently he lay back satisfied with something very like rest stealing over his face. Now, said the doctor, we have him a little more comfortable. Don't put any more clothing on the bed please, his fever is high enough to keep him warm. I wouldn't make up any more fire either, just enough to keep it from going out, and mind you leave the window dropped as it is now. Let your husband have a drink of water every ten minutes if he wants it. I will leave you some powders, one of which you are to give him every hour, and I shall hope, when I call tomorrow, to see him decidedly better. If you follow my directions carefully, I feel sure that he will be. Is your friend Timmy Nolan? I thought so. Timmy is a good fellow. I know him well and like him much. You say to him that Dr. Everett told you to use plenty of water and fresh air, and he will tell you it is all right. Now about these little ones, your husband needs coolness and quiet. If you will let the children take a ride with me, I will carry them around to the children's playroom at the home. They will be well taken care of there, will have a nice time and a good dinner, and a chance to make all the noise they please. I'll return them to you safely tonight when I pass this way. Something, whether it was Joy's cookies or the fact that Timmy Nolan was the doctor's friend, or whether it was the look of relief that was stealing over her husband's face, perhaps all three combined, disarmed the troubled nurse and brought her over entirely to the doctor's side. She made haste to get the two older children ready, expressing her gratitude meantime, but assuring him that she would keep the baby as quiet as a mouse if the two others were out from under her feet. It transpired, therefore, that Robert Parks was soon seated again in the doctor's handsome carriage with two little bundles of rags at his feet. Some dismay and a good deal of annoyance were visible on his face. Aren't there people whose business it is to do things of this sort? He asked, directly they were out of Mrs. Riley's hearing. His delicate nose was slightly lifted, and his whole manner expressed disapprobation. Of course there are, the doctor said heartily. Aren't we doing them as fast as we can? But I mean, you know what I mean, doctor. It certainly doesn't belong to your profession to spend your time in this way. In what way, for instance? Why washing sick men's faces and taking care of ragged children? Intense disgust in his tone. That depends. If the face needs washing just then, and there seems to be no one who understands the business better, I take it the duty becomes mine. I have my commission about this very matter directly from headquarters and could show it to you if you were interested in such things. But Robert was not disposed to yield the question. He still held to his disdainful air as he said, I should suppose that your taste and talents lay in other directions. More in the direction of our first stopping-place, eh? Well, I shouldn't agree with you. I read long ago a sentence that has probably had much to do with keeping me from fastidiousness in my profession. There is no respect of persons with God. That is the wording, and when one stops to study it, it is a tremendous thought. If God from his infinite height can look down upon all the world, having the same wonderful patient persistent love for all mankind, what am I that I should not give my utmost strength for the poorest and meanest of his creatures? The truth is, young man, all these things seem to me very small matters. When I remember the infinite height above us all that the Lord occupies and how he stoops to have anything to do with one of us, I am humiliated at the idea of calling any work of mine lowly. There are times when there seem to me no very great heights or depths to humanity. To all of which Robert Parks had really no answer to make. In his estimation, there were great heights and depths to humanity. He had been accustomed all his young life to look upon himself as one belonging to those on the heights. To be sure he was poor, but he told himself that that was a mere accident or misfortune of birth and opportunities. But he was refined and cultured. He belonged to a family who could look back on a long line of scholars. There was good blood in his veins, none better. It had required no condescension on the doctor's part or anyone's part to show kindness to him. As regarded good breeding and refinement, he was on a par with any of them. But to profess that there was no difference between such as he and the family they had just left, for instance, was an offensive doctrine. What a fanatical person this doctor Everett was. Such ideas might carry him to any sort of wild action. He knew something of self-sacrifice. Hadn't he given up all hope of a collegiate education and accepted a clerkship for the sake of his mother and sister? To be sure his conscience immediately asked him what particular help he had been to his mother and sister since making that sacrifice. He certainly had not expected them to support him at college and he certainly had done little besides support himself. Still he had always called it a sacrifice and looked upon it with complacency. But if one must sacrifice personal comfort, personal taste, and even common decency in order to do for other people, he had no desire to learn the art. Also, said Dr. Everett, suddenly breaking in upon his thoughts, I took from my motto when I entered professional life an old sentence which is like a flaming sword that reaches every way. Take heed what you do, let the fear of the Lord be upon you. It reads something like that and keeping it in mind makes living an important matter, just as important for me to do my work well for Thomas Riley as for the senior partner of your firm. It is a very disagreeable doctrine, Robert Park said, drawing his foot away from contact with the little Riley's. I don't see how a man in your position and with your abilities can be fettered by it. Why, the difficulty with that reasoning is that the Lord of Glory has chosen to fetter himself with it. There is no respect of persons with God. Those are the very words they are expressive, you see. What is the use in a man thinking about his position or his abilities after that? Oh, well, said Robert, that is another matter. I should think it was not much comparison between my position and the Lord's. Now, being bound to remember that the Saviour died, actually died for Thomas Riley, you see my bathing his face with my clean handkerchief takes a very low grade, isn't worthy of being counted or remembered. End of Chapter 13, Recording by Tricia G. Chapter 14 of Workers Together This LibreBox recording is in the public domain. Workers Together or an Endless Chain by Pansy. Chapter 14, A Crisis If they had shown a little gratitude, muttered Robert, it wouldn't have seemed quite so ridiculous, but that absurd woman kept quoting Timmy somebody to you as though he must certainly know more than you did. The doctor laughed good-humoredly. You must recover from special sensitiveness before you take up any work for the world, he said. Now that didn't disturb me in the least. In fact, I rather liked it. Why should she immediately throw Timmy Nolan overboard and take the advice of a total stranger? Timmy is a grand fellow, one of the Lord's free men, who is trying as earnestly as he can to lessen the misery there is in the world. He puts full faith in me, too. I have no fears but that my directions will be followed as soon as Timmy learns that they are mine. He is a character that Timmy Nolan. I would like to have you study him. He murders the Queen's English fearfully, but he belongs to the royal family nevertheless, and with his eight shillings a day and a wife and four children to support, contrives to do more for the cause of Christ around him than any other two men with whom I am acquainted. But, Parks, since you are sensitive on the subject of my wisdom, what do you think of men who quote all sorts of human authorities as though they are worth infinitely more than the word of God? Robert answered him in positive irritation. Your thoughts all come back to one point whatever subject is touched. I don't know how to talk on such themes. Then you mustn't quarrel with the Lord's plans of work until you understand more about them. By the way, I presume he has a plan for you to work by that you have never so much as looked into. It is a subject entirely worthy of your consideration. Saying which, Dr. Everett suddenly whirled around the corner and reigned in his horses before his boarding-house, unceremoniously ordering Robert into the house and up to his bed for a rest. Thither the young man presently went with some new thoughts stirring in his heart, prominent among them being the one that Dr. Everett certainly ordered his life by motives to which he, Robert Park's gentleman, was a stranger. For several days thereafter, Dr. Everett watched with no little anxiety the result on his patient of the pictures of life he had shown him in one morning ride, to the grand house belonging to the senior partner of the store where he was employed to give him a hint of the fact that sickness came to those who were far above him so far as this world's goods were concerned and brought unrest with it as surely as it did to him the portionless young clerk. What the doctor wanted was to have his patient see that the unrest lay not in the fact of his dependence and inability to meet the money demands of the day, but in the fact of an unquiet heart unable to accept God's planning and rest in it. Then he desired him to see another type of sickness equally far removed from his own so that Thomas Riley in his ill-kept home with his comfortless surroundings might say to the young man, what am I that life should have served me better than this? I took him out for a tonic, the doctor told Mrs. Saunders, and I am not sure but it was too strong a one. I'm watching the effect with no little anxiety. Why, said matter-of-fact Mrs. Saunders, he didn't seem to take a speck of cold, and I should think it was too late now to be afraid of the effect of that ride. It was three days ago, whereupon the doctor turned smiling eyes on Joy as he said, it was a fever and not a cold that I feared. Fever, said Mrs. Saunders, why, he is as pale as a ghost. And both the doctor and Joy laughed. Yet the anxiety for Robert remained. It very soon became apparent, however, that the tonic or something else had done him good. He roused to something like interest in life, made an effort to eat the strengthening food prepared for him, and resolutely turned his thoughts away from fretting anxieties as much at least as he could. He was even betrayed one evening into asking how Thomas Riley prospered. Nicely, said the doctor, much satisfaction in his voice. The fever was quite subdued by the time I reached him the next morning. The window was just as you arranged it, the extra quilts were banished, and he told me with a smile of gratitude which would have delighted your heart that he had just as much water all night as he could drink, that Timmy Nolan came to sit by him and let the mother get a bit of sleep, and that Timmy said, if Dr. Iverett orders a swallow of arsenic every five minutes all night, you just take it and be easy. It will do you good. He knows what he is about every time. I told you Timmy would be loyal. Mrs. Saunders, the most a great many of these people need is a helping hand. They do the best they can for one another. It is the fact that nobody has taught them how, which makes them so helpless and miserable in sickness. When a few days afterwards, Robert inquired for the senior partner, Dr. Iverett admitted somewhat reluctantly that he was at his post again in the store, feeling certain that a fit of restlessness would follow this item of news. More than that followed. Robert came down to breakfast the next morning with an air of determination such as he had not worn before and announced his intention of reporting himself for duty. I have lain by just as long as I can, he said emphatically, if I haven't strength enough yet, I must work without strength. They have waited for me a much longer time than they generally keep places, and now that the senior partner is out, they will not wait quietly much longer. No, Mrs. Saunders, I must go today. I will be as careful as I can. And he went, but he was a very pale-faced and weary-looking young man for several weeks thereafter. Dr. Iverett watched him and reflected sadly over the unnatural life of late hours and nervous excitement, which he must have led to have made his body so unwilling to rally from the effects of a comparatively slight accident. He lays all his trouble to the frightened horse, the doctor said, speaking to Mrs. Saunders, but the truth is late hours, late suppers, much smoking and occasionally wine are what have sapped the strength from him. Do you tell him so? questioned Mrs. Saunders, and the doctor shook his head, smiling. What use? I must rather contrive to have him tell himself so. Whereupon Mrs. Saunders shook her head, she did not understand such intricate ways of working. She believed in the outspoken truth, but she had another trait somewhat rare in women of her stamp. She believed in Dr. Iverett, and where she could not understand, she trusted. It was toward the close of a busy, wearying day in the great store. Robert Parks had charge of one of the variety counters and a most nerve-trying charge he found it. Buttons and thread and silk and tape and pins and needles and a whole army of trifles had a way of mixing themselves up in inextricable confusion. At least the confusion seemed to Robert inextricable. He had lost a great deal of the spring out of his life that makes trifles powerless to annoy us. His head ached. The systematic bustle which had been about him all day long and which used to give him satisfaction confused and wearied him in an unaccountable manner. It was his evening out for which he was thankful. He told himself that if he were obliged to endure a grain of three hours more at that counter, he believed it would end in his being taken to an insane asylum, and then he had added to the same gloomy being that it might as well end that way perhaps. Either that or the poor house was before him. Don't be too harsh in your judgment. It had been a most trying day. Everything had gone wrong. All sorts of difficulties had beset him. The most troublesome customers in the city seemed to congregate at his counter and toss over and disarrange a hundred trifles they did not want, asking questions about them the while and continually calling for more things to add to the confusion. Twice had the cashier disputed his figures and angrily silenced him when he tried to explain that he was right. The exasperating cash boys had giggled outright over several of his mistakes. The chief of his department had sharply reprimanded him for keeping a disorderly counter. Only two minutes after the disorderly female who had tumbled it had turned away to have her place taken by three others before he had time to write anything. To climax his trials, Fred Briggs, the most disagreeable clerk in Robert's estimation that the store contained, had been removed to the stand next to his own and had proved one of his most prominent thorns all day. Poor Robert was beginning to feel that his flesh was full of thorns and that life was a very sore and burdensome thing. But by far the heaviest disturbance of the day was hastening on to find him all unprepared for it. Half an hour before the time for his release he was summoned to the private office. The senior partner was there himself suffering from recent illness and feeling the nervous strain of a long day filled with business cares. Robert, listening to the sharp keen voice and concise sentences, contrasted them with the weak, complaining ones in which he had heard him address Dr. Everett when he lay in his luxurious chamber. Had he grown strong since then, he wondered, or did work look hard almost impossible to perform? It was not probable, for in that case he would have remained in his elegant home. No stern necessity sent him out. Robert, you observe, had yet to learn that the unrest of a man's own heart sends him out oftener than does any other motive. Presently the metallic voice was ready to address him. The cashier with whom he had been talking was dismissed. Mr. Parks. He did not take the trouble to look at Robert while he spoke but wrote rapidly the while on a sheet of paper that lay before him. I hear that you have received a counterfeit note today. I regret it on account of your recent illness and long absence. But our rule must be respected. We have been very lenient with you as regards rules already. Perhaps that has been a misfortune to you. The counterfeit note will be deducted from your next month's salary. Of course, if you had obeyed the rule of the house and reported your note immediately to the cashier, instead of making change yourself, it would have been all right. You and he would have been saved much trouble. But since you chose to ignore rules, you must abide by the consequences. Robert's pale face had been taking a flush of color during the delivery of these sentences. But he controlled his voice to answer with some degree of respect, though with marked hot tour. You have been misinformed, sir. I haven't had the honour of even seeing a note today nor a large sum of any description. It has been a ten-penny business at my counter all day long. I know nothing about the note in question. May I ask why it is charged to me? He had the benefit, then, of a stern look from the senior partner's gray eyes. Of course it has been traced to your counter before being charged to you, he replied, and his voice was more metallic than ever. I might add that your manner is somewhat unbecoming. Such haughtiness on your part coupled with insinuation of false or at best hasty charges are, to say the least, decidedly out of place. Of course we know in this store what we are talking about before we speak. It seems not, sir. The red color glowed on Robert's cheeks now. Else you would not charge me with having received a counterfeit note when I have received no note today. Is it to be supposed that I speak falsely making the statement, or what am I to think? The senior partner arose. Mr. Parks, I shall have to remind you to remember to whom you are speaking and to drop that tone and manner at once. As to what you are to suppose, it really makes extremely little difference so far as I am concerned what you suppose. I am not in the habit of being called in question by one of my clerks, especially one to whom the firm has shown such recent and unprecedented kindness. Still, despite the peculiar manner in which my words have been received, I will endeavor to explain for your benefit. Young Briggs says that you twice today received notes, that he was at leisure at the time and observed you making change and thought strangely of it. Moreover, he frankly owns that he assisted you in breaking the strict rules of the store, emboldened I presume by your previous example. He united, he says, an account to yours and a young lady who had been making purchases at both counters made payment to you in a note. Now, of course, you remember that such a process is entirely contrary to the manner in which business is conducted in the store. You certainly have not forgotten that the cashier of your department is the proper person to make change. It was utterly impossible for Robert to control his voice further. It rose to a pitch that might easily have been heard outside. And I repeat, Mr. Katie, that I haven't touched a note today. I've never had a poorer day for business. If you choose to believe Fred Briggs' lies, you will have to do so. I cannot explain them. I am not a spy on him. I don't know how many bills he has or has not handled today. But I know that I have obeyed rules and that I am telling the truth. And, moreover, sir, I am in the habit of being believed and I will not have my word groundlessly challenged by anyone. End of Chapter 14 Recording by Tricia G. Chapter 15 Of Workers Together This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Workers Together Or An Endless Chain by Pansy Chapter 15 Insults It was certainly an unusual way for a young clerk to address his grey-haired employer. Perhaps Mr. Katie may be pardoned for growing sterner and colder in manner every moment. Still, his long habits of self-control did not desert him. His voice was quiet and evenly poised, but icy in its coldness and exasperating in its insinuation. Perhaps you will be kind enough to explain then just how this particular note reports from your cash box, along with your made-up account of the day's sales. The flush on Robert's face disappeared for a moment, leaving a grey pallor in its place. Matters were certainly very serious, and as much as an angry man can, he realized it. His voice was quieter, but not a witless haughty. I cannot explain it, sir. I have given you a truthful account of the day's sales. My work has been in bits, nearly always exact change given me. I have had almost no occasion to send to the cashier's desk all day. I have had no notes of any amount to report. When I sent up my money, there was not a note with it. Of that I am positive, and if it appeared at the desk in company with my report, somebody besides me must explain it, for I cannot. Yet he began to realize how the story sounded. He, Robert Parks, was actually in disgrace over a matter of a note. His word doubted evidently. His word. He had been in the habit of imagining that no one would ever dare to doubt it. While he stood hesitating as to what would be best to say next, Mr. Katie saved him further words. You can go, Mr. Parks. This matter will be carefully investigated, of course. We are not in the habit of making false or careless charges. I believe we have the reputation of dealing honorably with our employees in every particular. I will frankly admit that your extremely unbecoming words and manner are very much against you. However, notwithstanding your insinuations, we mean to be, as we always have been, strictly just to everyone. There is a discrepancy somewhere and it shall be discovered. A bow was the only possible answer which could be made to an address like this. And presently Robert found himself in the street in no very enviable frame of mind, his one desire being to reach home as quickly as possible. Home was a word that he had never applied to his former boarding-place, but it had transpired that from being a guest tolerated from motives of benevolence, he had slipped into a vacant corner and become a member of Mrs. Saunders's family. It is true he had to mount several flights of stairs and occupy a small room. Even then, the terms were made to match his salary by a process of arithmetic known only to Dr. Everett and Mrs. Saunders. But that small back room with Joy Saunders to keep a vigilant eye on the chambermaid was paradise compared with Robert's former quarters. But what a sullen-faced young man dropped himself into a chair in the farther corner of the large sitting-room to await the summons to dinner. He was much too weary to think of mounting the stairs and too angry to care who studied his gloomy face. In truth, this young man was passing through an undercurrent of disappointment known only to his own vexed heart. During the weeks in which he had been laid aside to do vigorous thinking, a strong admiration for Dr. Everett had gotten possession of him. Not that he agreed with him in every particular. On the contrary, he believed him to be unnecessarily and inconveniently enthusiastic over everything pertaining to religion. It was all very well for Joy Saunders to live that sort of life. He was willing to admit that it became her. In fact, the more rugged type of Christianity visible in her mother's life was something to admire, especially when it took the form of making a comfortable home for young men like him. It was for a man of Dr. Everett's stamp to be trampled on every side to be making constant reference to one as his master as if he were not capable of ruling his own life even in its smallest concerns. In all this Robert Parks did not believe. Yet he admired Dr. Everett and in a certain sense meant to copy him. Not that he was aware of that latter fact. He was one who would have scorned any character, even Christ's. What he meant to do was to reform his own life to live on a different plane from what he had done since he left his country home. He decided to conduct affairs at the store in such a manner as to win enthusiastic commendation from his employers. Indeed, he meant to make himself really necessary to their comfort and success. This was only one of the many lines in which he intended to launch forth to show the world what a noble life a man could live. Certainly this day had witnessed a miserable downfall to his hopes. He couldn't help feeling that he was a miserably ill-used man. Not only Fred Briggs and Mr. Katie, but the Lord himself seemed to have conspired against him. Else why should so many petty trials crowned by this large one have been thrust at him on the very day when he began to live on a higher plane? Dr. Everett, who was occupying a lounge in another corner of the room, watched with curious interest the limp bundle sunk in the depths of one of the large chairs. It looked so unlike the fresh young man who had gone out in the morning confident in his ability to conquer the world, the flesh, and the devil. Did it go hard with you? He asked. And then young Parks became aware for the first time that he was not alone in the room. Confoundedly hard, he said bitterly, without changing his position for he recognized the voice. Dr. Everett came to a sitting posture and then presently drew a chair and said it near but not too near the one in which Robert lounged. Tell us about it, he said, in a soothingly sympathetic tone. And Robert, who had not meant to do any such thing, began at the beginning and told the whole exasperating story of that exasperating day increasing in tone and fervor as his anger rose in recalling his torments. A hundred little pricks and stings finished off by this actual bite of a serious nature. Over some of the troubles Dr. Everett laughed, making light of them as he recognized that they grew into magnitude only because poor Robert's nerves were weak. But as the story proceeded he looked grave, much because of the trouble for having utmost confidence in the young man's integrity he saw nothing so very alarming in a mistake but because of the passionate nature of the story showing a spirit at war with itself enraged with circumstances and very far away from helping God or trust in his care. How earnestly had the servant of the king longed and prayed for this young man desiring to have him as a brother and yet how far away he seemed. Still Dr. Everett said within himself how can I tell the Lord leads in strange ways sometimes I cannot be sure but he sees the need for leading this young man through trials and annoyances up to himself. Not for Robert Parks's benefit at all, but rather because of a habit that Dr. Had of thinking allowed he at this moment in a sort of dreamy undertone repeated the words as many as I love I rebuke and chase and be zealous therefore and repent. For the moment he had forgotten the presence of the one who had started this train of thought and was not prepared for the instant defect which his quotation had. Young Parks came to an erect posture his head lifted hotly a glow of anger on his cheeks his voice sharp. Dr. I may as well admit frankly that I don't want any such love as that. A hundred years of it wouldn't do me any good. I can't be driven and I won't be. Whoever supposes that I am to be chastened into improvement is very much mistaken. I should go to the dogs quicker in that way than in any other in the world I barely believe. I've tried all my life to be a decent sort of fellow but if I am to be paid for it and you are pleased to call it I'll soon show everybody that that sort of thing won't do for me. I won't repent of anything. For that matter I must say I don't know of anything very special to repent about. I don't amount to much I suppose but I certainly have never accomplished anything very dreadful. I presume it sounds ridiculously egotistical to you but I cannot very well help knowing that I am fifty percent ahead of the fellows in my position and I've always been ground down by circumstances so that I never had half a chance. Such reasoning as you have been indulging in stirs all the evil within me. I needn't be afraid of being considered egotistical after all it takes a Christian to be a genuine egotist. Just look at the professions they make meekness and gentleness and long suffering then look at my long suffering employer Mr. Katie he is one of your Christians I've served him faithfully and he knows it yet at the very first opportunity what does he do but fly into a passion and accuse me of all sorts of wrongdoing and end by as good as calling me a liar. I tell you sir I've had enough of religion I believe it is all a humbug some men are good and noble because they choose to be and some are not. Such religion as Mr. Katie has is calculated I believe to make a man meaner than he would naturally have been. I want none of it and as for the Lord's chastening whatever that can't phrase may cover I want none of that either I won't be driven by anybody into doing a single thing that but before this sentence could be concluded Dr. Everett had risen to his feet directly in front of the chair where the angry young man sat and looking down at him spoke with firm voice and rapid utterance look here young man you have gone far enough quite too far indeed you mustn't talk in that sort of way to me I am not the person to stand quietly by and hear a friend insulted especially when that friend is dearer to me than life I quoted the Lord's own words to you his own call after you and you treated him with scorn and contempt you must never do anything of that kind again before me I warn you that I won't hear it the idea of waxing indignant over the possibility of your word not being believed and at the same time trying to falsify the word of the Lord of heaven and earth you nothing to repent of a young man of average intelligence who for 21 years has deliberately slighted the call of the king to accept a position of honor which could never be rested from you you have never even taken the trouble to respond to his invitations yet have simply insulted him by silent indifference yet when he who if he made you at all certainly has a right to you body and soul sees fit to remind you that he is still waiting to be your almighty friend because he sees that by means of a petty trial or two a noble soul might be awakened to a sense of its need and its false position you fly into a passion like a child and dare him to remind you of your folly you even assure him that you won't repent as if that could harm anyone so much as yourself and you expect me to sit quietly by listening to talk like that about my king and never say a word for him young man if you had insulted my mother I should feel like knocking you down when my lord is dearer to me than my mother if I don't avenge his name by any such method it is because he withholds me because he counsels forgiveness and endurance and love when the world says be revenged but I warn you that you have touched a sore spot in my heart I will not state to hear my king insulted