 CHAPTER XXV It was out on a lonely road in the car that they had chosen to go for their conference, where there was no chance of their being interrupted, and they whirled away through the town and out to the long stretch of whiteness and glum silence, the tears welling to overflow in Leslie's eyes. At last they were past the bounds where they were likely to meet acquaintances, and Leslie broke forth. "'Do you really think it's true that we've got to give her up? Are you sure it has come to that, Allison? It seems perfectly preposterous!' "'Well, you know if she cares for him,' said Allison gravely, we've no right to hold on to her and spoil her life. You know it was different when it was old-pill bowman. This is a real man.' "'Care for him? How could she possibly care for him?' snapped Leslie. Why, he has a wart on his nose, and he snuffs. I never thought of it before till last night, but he does. He snuffs every little while. Ugh! Why, I thought you liked him, Leslie. So I did until I thought he wanted Cloudy. But I can't see that. I hate him. I always thought he was about the nicest man in the faculty except the dean, and he's married. But since I got on to the idea that he wants Cloudy, I can't bear the sight of him. I went way round the block today to keep from meeting him. He isn't nice enough for Cloudy, Allison. What's the matter with him? Warts and snuffing don't count if you love a person. I like him. I like him ever so much. And I think he's lonesome. He'd appreciate a home like ours. You know what a wonderful wife Cloudy would make. Leslie fairly screamed. "'Oh, Allison! To think you've come to it that you're willing to give up our lovely home and have Cloudy go off and we go the deer-nose-ware and have to board at the college or something?' "'Some day we'll be getting married, too, I suppose,' said Allison speculatively. His sister flashed a wise, curious look up at him and studied his face a minute. Then a shade came over her own once more. "'Yes. I suppose you will pretty soon. You're almost done with college. But poor me, I'll have to board for two whole years more, and I'm not sure I'll ever get married. The man I like might not like me. And you may be very sure I'm not going to live on any sister in law no matter how much I love her. So there!' Allison smiled and put his arm protectingly around his sister. "'There, kid. You didn't get excited yet awhile. It's me and thee always, no matter how many wives I have, and you won't ever have to board. The kid, I'm not willing to give up our house and Cloudy at all. I'm just thinking that maybe we ought to, you know. I guess we're not pigs, are we? Cloudy has had a mighty hard life and missed a lot of things out of it. Well, isn't she having them now? I'd like to know. I think Cloudy likes us and wants to stay with us. I think she'd just love the house and everything about it. Yes, I think so, too. But this is something bigger than anything else in the world if she really cares. Don't you think we ought to give her the chance? I suppose so if she really wants it. But how can we find out? That's it. Just give her the chance. When Armitage comes in, just sneak out and stay away, and let her have a little time alone with him. It isn't right us kids always sticking around. We ought to go out or upstairs or something. Leslie was still for a long time, and then she heaved a big sigh and said, All right, in a very small voice. As they sped on their way toward home, there was hardly a word more between them. It was after supper that very night that Leslie, having almost frightened Julia Cloud out of her happy calm by refusing to eat much supper, went off to bed with a headache as soon as the Professor came in. Alison, too, said he had to go up to the college for a book he had forgotten, and for the first time since his advent the Professor had a clear evening ahead of him with Julia Cloud without anybody else by. But Julia Cloud was distraught and gave him little attention at first, with an attitude of listening directed toward the floor above. Finally she gently excused herself for a moment and hurried up to Leslie's room where she found a very damp and tearful Leslie attempting to appear wonderfully calm. What is it, dear child? Has something happened? She begged. I know you must be sick or you wouldn't have gone to bed so early. Please tell me what is the matter. I shall send for the doctor at once if you don't. Then Leslie, knowing that her brother would blame her if she spoiled the test, sat up bravely and tried to laugh, assuring her aunt that she was only tired from studying and a little stiff from playing hockey too long and she thought it would be better to rest tonight so she could be all right in the morning. Julia Cloud, only half reassured by this unprecedented carefulness for her health on the part of the usually careless Leslie, went down abstractedly to her Professor and wished he would go home. He was well into the midst of a most heartfelt and touching proposal of marriage before she realized what was coming. His voice was low and pleading and Leslie lying breathless above, not dainting to try to listen yet painfully aware of the change of tones, was in tortures. Then Julia Cloud's pained, gentle tones, firmly replying and more entreaty with brief simple answers, most unexpectedly before an hour passed Leslie heard the front door open and the Professor go out and pass slowly down the walk. Her heart was in her throat beating painfully. What had happened? A quick intuition presented a possible solution. Cloudy would not leave them while they were in college and had bit him weight or perhaps turned him down altogether. How dear of her! And yet with quick revulsion of spirit she began to pity the poor lonely man who could not have Cloudy when he loved her. A moment later Julia Cloud came softly up the stairs and tiptoed into her room and horror of horrors Leslie could hear her catch her breath like soft sobbing. Did Cloudy care then? And had she turned down a man she loved in order to stick to them and keep her promise to their guardian? Quick as a flash she was out of bed and pattering barefoot into Julia Cloud's room. Cloudy! Cloudy! You're crying! What is the matter? Quick, tell me please! Julia Cloud drew the girl down beside her on the bed and nestled her lovingly close. It's nothing dear. It's only that I had to hurt a good man. It always makes me sorry to have to hurt anyone. Leslie nestled closer, smoothed her aunt's hair and tried to think what to say. But nothing came. She felt shy about it. Finally she put her lips up and touched her aunt's cheek and whispered, Don't cry Cloudy dear. And just then she heard Allison's key in the lock. She sprang up, drew her bathrobe about her and ran down to whisper to him on the stairs what had happened. Well, it's plain she cares. Whispered Allison sadly, gravely, turning his face away from the light. I say less. We ought to do something. We ought to tell her it's all right for her to go ahead. I can't, Allison. I'd break down and cry. I know I would. I tried up there just now but the words wouldn't come. Well then, let's write her a letter and we'll both sign it. All right. You write it. Choke Leslie. I'll sign it. They slipped over to the desk in the porch-room and Leslie cuddled into a big willow-cushion chair and shivered and sniffed while Allison scratched away at a sheet of paper for a few minutes. Then he handed it to her to read and sign. This was what he had written. Dear Cloudy, we see just how it is and we want you to know that we are willing. Of course it'll be awfully hard to lose you, but it's all right and we wouldn't be happy not to have you be happy and we want you to go ahead and not think of us. We'll manage all right somehow and we love you and want to see you happy. Leslie dropped a great tear on the page when she signed it but she took the soft embroidered sleeve of her nightgown and dabbed it dry so that it didn't blur the writing. And then together they slipped upstairs. Leslie went into her aunt's room in the dark and in a queer little voice said, Cloudy dear, here's a note for you. Laying it in her hand, Leslie hurried into her room, shut her door softly and hid in her closet so that Julia Cloud would not hear her sob. A moment later Julia Cloud came into the hall with a dear glad ring in her voice and called, Children, where are you? Come here quick, you darlings. And they flocked into her arms like lost ducklings. You blessed darlings. She said laughing and crying at the same time. Did you think I wanted to get married and go away from you forever? Well, you're all wrong. And I'll never do that. You may get married and go away from me. But I'll never go away from you till you send me. And I won't ever get married to anyone on this earth at any time. Do you understand? I don't want to get married. Ever. They all went into Julia Cloud's room then and sat down with her on the couch, one on either side of her. Do you really mean it, Cloudy Jewel? Ask Leslie happily. You don't want to get married, not even to that nice Professor Armitage? Look here, Leslie. You said he had a wart, put in her brother. Now keep still, Allison. He was nice all the time. Only I didn't like him to want our Cloudy. He didn't seem to be quite nice enough for her. He didn't quite fit her. But if she wanted him, but I don't, Leslie, cried Julia in distress. I never did. Are you really, Cloudy, dear? You're such a dear and selfish, Cloudy. How shall we ever quite be sure she isn't giving him up just for us, Allison? Children, listen, said Julia Cloud suddenly, putting a quieting hand on each young hand in her lap. I'll tell you something I never told to a living soul. There was that in her voice that thrilled them into silence. It was as if she suddenly opened the door of her soul and let them look in on her real self as only God saw her. Their fingers tightened in sympathy as she went on. A long time ago, a great many years ago, perhaps you would laugh and think me foolish if you knew how many. Oh, no, Cloudy, never! said Leslie Softly, and Allison growled a dissenting note. Well, there was someone whom I loved, who died. That is all. Only I never could love anybody that way again. Marriage without a love like that is a desecration. Oh, Cloudy, we never knew, murmured Leslie. No one ever knew, dear. He was very young. We were both scarcely more than children. I was only fourteen. Oh, Cloudy, how beautiful! And you've kept it all these years. Won't you tell us just a little about it? I think it is wonderful, don't you, Allison? Yes, wonderful, said Allison, in that deep, full tone of his that revealed a man's soul growing in the boy's heart. There is very little to tell, dear. He was a neighbor's son. We went to school together, and sometimes took walks on Saturdays. He rode me on his sled, and helped me fasten on my skates, and carried my books, and we played together when we had time to play. Then his people moved away out west, and he kissed me goodbye, and told me he was coming back for me some day. That was all there was to it, except a few little letters. Then they stopped. And one day his grandmother wrote that he had been drowned, saving the life of a little child. Can you understand why I want to wait and be ready for him over there where he is gone? I keep feeling God will let him come for me when my life down here is over. There was a long silence, during which the young hands gripped hers closely, and the young thoughts grew strangely wise with insight into human life, and all its joys and sorrows. They were thinking out in detail just what their aunt had missed, the sweet things that every woman hopes for, and thinks about alone with God, of love, strong care, little children, and a home. She had missed it all. And yet she had its image in her heart, and had been true to her first thought of it all the years. Now when it was offered her again, she would not give up the old love for a new, would not take what was left of life. She would wait till the morning broke, and her boy met her on the other shore. Suddenly as they thought strong young arms encircled her, and held her close in a dear embrace. Then you're ours, Cloudy. All ours, for the rest of down here, aren't you? Half whispered Leslie. Yes, dear, as long as you need me. Want me? She finished. We shall want you always, Cloudy, said Allison, in a clear man's voice of decision. Put that down for ever, Cloudy Jewel. You are our mother from now on, and we want you always. That is dear, said Julia Cloud, but a resignation in her voice. Someday you will marry, and then you will not need me any more. And I shall find something to do somewhere. Two fierce young things rose up in arms at once. Put that right out of your head, Cloudy Jewel, cried Leslie. You shan't say it again. If I thought any man could be mean enough not to feel as I do about you, I would never marry him. So there. I would never marry anybody. My wife will love you as much as I do. Said Allison with conviction. I shall never love anybody that doesn't. You'll see. And so with loving arms about her, and tender words of fierce assertion they convinced her at last, and the bond that held them was only strengthened by the little tension it had sustained. Professor Armitage came no more to the little pink and white house. But Julia Cloud was happy with her children, and they were content together. The happy days moved on. I don't see how you get time for that Christian Endeavor Society of Years, Cloud, said one of the professors to Allison. I hear you're the moving spirit in it, yet you never fall down on your classwork. How do you manage it? I'd like to put some of my other students onto your ways of planning. Well, there's all of Sunday, you know, Professor, answered Allison promptly. I don't give so very much more time except a half hour here and there to a committee meeting, or now and then a social on Friday night, when I'd otherwise be fooling anyway. My sister and I cut out the dances and put these social parties in their place. But don't you have to study on Sundays? Never do, was the quick reply. Made it a rule when I started in here at this college and haven't broken it once, not even for examinations. I find I'm fresher for my work Monday morning when I make the sabbath reel. The professor eyed him curiously. Well, that certainly is interesting, he said. I'll have to try it. Though I don't see how I'd quite manage it, I usually have to spend the whole Sunday correcting papers. Save them up, till early Monday morning, and come over to our Christian endeavor meeting. See if it isn't worthwhile, and then see how much more you can do Monday morning at five o'clock when you're really rested, then you could all day Sunday hacking at the same old job you've had all the week. I'll look for you next Sunday night. So long. And with a courteous wave he was off with a lacrosse stick gliding down the campus like a wild thing. The professor stood and watched him a moment, and then turned thoughtfully up the asphalt path pondering. They are a power in the college and in the community, that sister and brother, he said. I wonder why. Down at the church, they wondered also as they came in crowds to the live Christian endeavor meetings, and listened to the clear ringing words of the young man who had been president before him, as their praises sounded by his admiring friends, especially the young man who had been president before him, as they saw the earnest spirit that went out to save and had no social distinctions or classes to hinder the fraternal interest. The pastor wondered most of all, and thanked God, and told his wife that the endeavor society was making his church all over. He didn't know it, but it had converted him again, too. The session wondered, as it listened to the earnest, simple gospel sermons that the pastor now preached, and saw his zeal for bringing men to the service of Christ. Oh, they pointed out the four young people, the clouds, Jane Bristol, and Howard Lechworth, as the moving spirits in the work, and they admitted some of them that prayer had made the transformation, but there were not many of the original bunch of young people who by this time had not been fully trained to understand that if you wanted anything in the spiritual world you must take time and give energy to getting acquainted with God. But if they could have gone with some spirit guide to find out the true secret of all the wonderful spiritual growth and power of that young people's society, they must have looked in about Julia Cloud's fireplace on Sabbath afternoon, and seen the four earnest young people with their Bibles and Julia Cloud in the midst, spending the long, beautiful hours in actual spiritual study of God's word, and then kneeling and communing with God for a little while, all of them on intimate terms with God. They were actually learning to delight themselves in the Lord. It was no wonder that other people, even outside the church and the Christian endeavor society, were beginning to notice the difference in the four, just as they noticed the shining of Moses' face when he came down from the mountain after communing with God. Julia Cloud stood at the window of her rose and grey room one Sabbath evening after such an afternoon, watching the four children walk out into the sunset to their Christian endeavor meeting, and smiled with the tender light in her eyes. She had come to call them her four children in her heart now, for they all seemed to love and need her alike. And for many a month, though they seemed not yet openly aware of it, they had been growing more and more all in all to one another, and she was glad. She watched them as they walked. Allison ahead with Jane, earnestly discussing something, Jane's sweet, serious eyes looking up so trustfully to Allison, and he so tall and fine beside her, Leslie tripping along like a bird behind with Howard, and pointing out the colors in the sunset, which he watched only as they were reflected in her eyes. Howard Letchworth settled himself comfortably by an open window in the 512 Express and spread out the evening paper, turning like any true college man, first to the sporting page. He was anxious to know how his team had come out in the season's greatest contest with another, larger college. He had hoped to be there to witness the game himself, and in fact the Clouds had invited him to go with them in their car, but unfortunately at the last minute a telegram came from a firm with whom he expected to be located during the summer, saying that their representative would be in the city that afternoon, and would like to see him. Howard had been obliged to give up the day's pleasure and see his friends start off without him. Now his business over he was returning to college and having his first minute of leisure to see how the game came out. The train was crowded, for it was just a closing time and everyone was in a rush to get home. Engrossed in his paper he noticed none of them until someone dropped, or rather sprawled, in the seat beside him, taking far more room than was really necessary, and making a lot of fuss pulling up his trousers and getting his patent leather feet adjusted to suit him, around a very handsome sole leather suitcase which he crowded unceremoniously over to Howard's side of the floor. The intruder next addressed himself to the arrangement of a rich and striking necktie, and seemed to have no compunctions about annoying his neighbor during the process. Howard glanced up in surprise as a more strenuous knock than before jarred his paper out of focus. He saw a young fellow of about his own age with a face that would have been strikingly handsome if it had not also been bold and conceited. He had large dark eyes set off by long-curling black lashes, black hair that crinkled close to his head in satiny sleek sheen, well-chiseled features, all save a loose hung, insolent lip that gave the impression of great self-indulgence and selfishness. He was dressed with a careful regard to fashion and with evidently no regard whatever for cost. He bore the market once of wealth and snobbishness. Howard, in spite of his newly acquired desire to look upon all men as brothers, found himself disliking him with a vehemence that was out of all proportion to the occasion. Don't they have any Pala cars on this road? The question was addressed to him in a calm, insolent tone as if he were a paid servitor of the road. He looked up amusedly and eyed the stranger pityingly. Not so as you've noticed it, he remarked crushingly as he turned back to his paper, people on this road too busy to use them. But the stranger did not crush easily. Live far out, he asked, turning his big bold eyes on his seat mate and calmly examining him from the toe of a well-worn shoe to the crown of a dusty old hat that Howard was trying to make last till the end of the season. When he had finished the survey as eyes traveled complacently back to his own immaculate attire and his well-polished shoes fresh from the hands of the city station boot-black. With a well-manicured thumb and finger he flecked an imaginary bit of dust from the knee of his trousers. Howard named the college town brusquely. Ah, indeed! Another survey brief and significant this time. I don't suppose you know any people at the college. It was scarcely a question, more like a statement of a deplorable fact. Howard was suddenly amused. Oh, a few, he said briefly. He was just finishing his senior year rather brilliantly, and his professors were more than proud of him. Another glance seemed to say, in what capacity. But the elegant youth finally decided to voice another question. Don't happen to know a fellow by the name of Cloud, I suppose. Al-Cloud? I've met him, said Howard, with his eyes still on his paper. He's from my state. Announced the youth with a puff of importance. We live next door in California. He's a regular guy, he is. Got all kinds of money coming to him. He'll be of age in a month or two now, and then you'll see him start something. He's some spender he is. Howard made no comment, but something in him revolted at the idea of talking over his friend in such company. I've got to hunt him up, went on the young man, not noticing that his auditor appeared uninterested. I'm to stay with him tonight. I was to send a telegram, but didn't think of it till it was almost train time. Guess it won't make much difference. The Clouds always used to keep open house. I suppose they have a swell place out here. Oh, it's quite comfortable, I believe. Howard turned over a page of the paper, and fell to reading an article on the high price of sugar and the prospect of a fall. You ought to see their dump-out in Cali. It's some mansion, believe me. There wasn't anything else in that part of the state to compare with it for miles around. And cash? They had cash to burn. The old man was just lousy with gold, you know? Struck a rich mine years ago. His wife had a pile, too. Her father was all kinds of a millionaire and left every bit to her. And Alan, his sister, will get everything. Seen anything of her? She ought to be a winner pretty soon. She was a peach when she was little. She's some speedy kid. We used to play together, you know? And our folks sort of fixed it up that we were just made for each other and all that sort of thing, you know? But I don't know. I'm not going to be bound by any such nonsense, of course, unless I like. One doesn't want one's wife to be such an awfully good shot, for instance, you know? A great anger surged up in Howard's soul, and his jaw set with a fierce line that those who knew him well had learned to understand that self-control under deep provocation. He would have liked nothing better than to surprise the insolent young snob with a well-directed blow in his pretty face that would have sent him sprawling in the aisle. His hands fairly twitched to give him the lesson that he needed. But he only replied with a slight and scrutable smile in one corner of his mouth. It might be inconvenient for some people. There, an aloofness in his tone that did not encourage further remarks. But the young stranger was evidently not thin-skinned, or else he'd love to hear himself babbling. I'm coming on here, you know? To look this college over, he drawled. If it suits me, I may come here next year. Got fired from these institutions out west for larkin. Father, thought I'd better go east awhile. Any fun doing out this way? I suppose those that go to college looking for it can find it, answered Howard non-commentally. Well, that's what I'm looking for. That's about all anybody goes to college for, anyway. That and making a lot of friends. Believe me, it would be a beastly bore if it wasn't for that. Al Cloud used to be a lively one. I'll wager he's into everything. See, much of the college people down in town, do ya? He eyed his companion patronizingly. Suppose you get in on some of the spo-wits now and then? Well, occasionally, said Howard, with a twinkle in his eye, he was captain of the football team and forward in basketball, but it didn't seem necessary to mention it. Any fellows with any pep in them out here? I suppose they must be, or I wouldn't stay unless he's changed. He used to keep things pretty lively. That's one reason why I told Dad I'd come out here. I like a place with plenty of ginger. It gets my goat to be among a lot of grinds and sissies. This is a co-ed college, isn't it? That suits me all right if the girls have any pep and aren't too straight-laced. Any place around here where you can go off and take a girl for a good dinner and a dash of life? I couldn't stand for any good little boy stuff. Know any place around here where you can get a drink of the real thing now and then? Some place near enough to go joy-riding, too, ya know? I'll bring my co-ed, of course. One can get away with a lot more stuff if they have their own co-ed, ya know? Especially where there's girls. You can't pull off any double-men if you have to depend on hard co-ed. You might get co-ed. I suppose they have some pretty spicy times down at the frat rooms, don't they? I understood the frats were mostly located down in the town. Howard suddenly folded his paper, looking squarely in the limpid eyes of his seat-mate for the first time with a cold, searching, subduing gaze. I really couldn't say. He answered co-edly. Oh, I suppose you're not interested in that sort of thing? Not being in college, said the other insolently. But Al Cloud will put me wise. He's no grind, all wager. He's always in for a good time, and he's such a good bluff he never gets found out. Now I somehow always get caught, even when I'm not the guilty one. The boy laughed uproariously as if it were a good joke, and his weak chin seemed to grow weaker in the process. Howard was growing angry and haughty, but it was his way to be calm and excited. He did not laugh with the stranger, and steady waited until the joke had lost its amusement. And then he turned soberly to the youth with his patronizing in air as ever the other had mourned. Son, you've got another guest coming to you about Alice in Cloud. You'll have the surprise of your young life when you see him, I imagine. Why, he's been an A student ever since he came to this college. And he has the highest average this last semester of any man in his class. As for bluff, he's as clear as crystal, and a Prince of a Fellow, and if you're looking for a spot where you can bluff your way through college, you better seek elsewhere. Bluffs doesn't go down in our college. We have student government, and I happen to be chairman of the student exec just now. You better change your tactics if you expect to remain here. Excuse me, I see a friend up at the front of the car, with which remarks Howard Letchworth strode across the sprawling legs of his fellow traveller and departed up the aisle, leaving the elegant stranger to enjoy the whole seat and his own company. Thus did Clive Terrence introduce himself to Howard Letchworth, and bring dismay into the little clique of four young people who had been enjoying a most unusually perfect friendship. Howard Letchworth, as he stood the rest of the ride on the front platform of the car, conversing with apparent interest, with a fraternity brother was nevertheless filled with a growing dismay. Now and then he glanced back and glared down the aisle at the elegant sprawling youth, and wondered how it was that a being as insignificant as that could so upset his equilibrium. But the assured drawl of the stranger as he spoke of Leslie and called her a speedy kid and made him boil with rage. He carried the mood back to college with him and sat gloomily at the table thinking the whole incident over, while the banter and chafing went on about him unnoticed. Underneath it all there was a deep uneasiness that would not be set aside. The young man had said that the clouds were very wealthy, that Leslie was especially so, that when she was of age she would have a vast inheritance. There had been no sign of great wealth or ostentation in their living, but if that were so, then there was an insuperable wall between him and her. It was strange that the question of wealth had never come up between them. Howard had known that they were comfortably off, of course. They had a beautiful car and wore good clothes and were always free with their entertaining. But they lived in a modest house and never made any pretenses. It had not occurred to him that they were any better off than he might be some day if he worked hard. They never talked about their circumstances. Of course now he came to think about it. There were fine mahogany pieces of furniture in the little house and wonderful rugs and things. But they all fitted in so harmoniously with their surroundings that it never occurred to him that they might have cost a mint of money. They never cried out their price to those who saw them. They were simply the fitting thing in the fitting place. Doing their service, as all right-minded things, both animate and inanimate in this world should do. It was the first serpent in the Eden of this wonderful friendship at Cloudy Villa, and it stung the proud spirit of young man to the soul. Alone in his room that night he finally gave up all pretenses steady and faced the truth. He had been drifting in a delightful dream during the last two years, with only a vague and alluring idea of the future before him, a future in which there was no question but that Alice in Cloud and his sister Leslie should figure intimately. Now he was suddenly and roughly awakened to ask himself whether he had any right to count on all this, if these young people belonged to the favored few of the world who were rolling in wealth. Wasn't it together likely that when they finished college they would pass out of this comradely atmosphere into a world of their own, with a new set of laws whereby to judge and choose their friends and life-companions? He could not quite imagine Alice in and Leslie as anything but the frank, friendly, enthusiastic comrades they have been since he had known them. And yet he knew the world, knew what the love of money could do to a human soul, for he had seen it many times before in people he had come to love and trust who had grown selfish and forgetful as soon as money and power were put into their hands. He had to confess that it was possible. Also, his own pride forbid him to wish to force himself into a crowd where he could not hold his own and pay his part. They would simply not be in his class, at least not for many years to come, and his heart sank with desolation. It was then and not till then that the heart of the trouble came out and looked him in the face. It was not that he could not be in their class, that he could not keep pace with Alice in cloud and come and go in his company as freely as he had done. It was that he loved the bright-haired Leslie, the sweet-faced, eager, earnest, wonderful girl. She held his future happiness in her little rosy hand. And if she really were a rich girl, he couldn't, of course, tell her now that he loved her, because he was a poor man. He didn't expect to stay poor always, of course, but it would be a great many years before he could ever hope to compete with anything like wealth. And during those years, who might not take her from him? Was it conceivable that such a cat as that youth who had boasted himself a playmate of her childhood could possibly win her? Howard went out and sat on the campus, under a great shadowing tree. He watched a silver thread of a moon slip down between the branches and dip behind the hill. And while he sat there, he went through all the desolation of a lonely life, the bitterness of having Leslie taken from him by one who was unworthy. He persuaded himself that he loved her enough to be willing to step aside and give her up to a man who was better than himself. But this little whiff it? Ugh! The chimes on the library peeled out nine o'clock, reminding him of his work half done, yet the shadow of engulfing sorrow and loss hung over him. With a jerk he drew himself up and tried to grasp at common sense. How ridiculous of him to get up all this nightmare out of a few minutes' talk with a fellow who used to be the Cloud's old neighbor. He might not have been telling the truth. And anyhow it was a libel on friendship to distrust the Mall in this way, as though riches were some kind of a disease, like leprosy that set people apart. It wasn't his night to go down to the village. But just to dispel this nonsense and bring back his normal state of mind he would go and drop in on the Clouds for a few minutes. A sight of the Mall would reassure him and clear his brain for the work he must do before midnight. Leslie Cloud was very young yet and much can happen in a year or two. He might even be in a fair way to make a fortune himself somewhere. Who knew? And as for that little cad it was nonsense to suppose he was anything to fear. Besides, it wasn't time yet to think about being married when he wasn't even out of college. He would forget it and work the harder. Of course he could never quite go back and forget that he had admitted to himself that he was in love with Leslie. But he would keep it like a precious jewel hid far in his heart. So carefully locked that not even for his own delight would he take it out to look at it now at this time. Having thus resolved a weight seemed to have rolled from his shoulders and he sprang up and walked with a quick tread down to the village. There was a cheerful clang of Victrola's player pianos and twanging guitars as he passed the fraternity rooms and he went whistling on his way towards Cloudy Villa. But as he neared the tall arched hedge and looked eagerly for the welcome light he saw that the big living room windows were only lit by a soft play of firelight. Did that mean they were all sitting in the firelight around the hearth? A fearful thought of the stranger intruded just here upon his fine resolves and to dispel it he knocked noisily on the little brass knocker. It was very still inside but a quick electric light responded to his knock and in a moment he could hear someone coming downstairs to the door. His heart leaped. Could it be Leslie? Ah, he must not. Yet how wonderful it was going to be to look at her this first time after really knowing his own heart in plain language. Could he keep the joy of her out of his eyes and the wonder of her from his voice? Then the door opened and there stood Cherry in negligee of flaring rose-cotton crepe embroidered with gorgeous peacocks and her pigtails and eclipses behind an arrangement of cheap lace and pink ribbons. No, sir, Mr. Howard. They ain't none of them be here. They got company, some young fellow from back to California way. They done took him out to see to town. Howard's heart sank and he turned his heavy footsteps back to the college. The worst fear had come to pass. Of course reason asserted itself and he told himself that he was a fool, a perfect fool. Of course they had to be polite to an old neighbor, whether they liked him or not. And what was he to presume to judge a stranger from a five-minute conversation and turn him down so completely that he wasn't willing to have his old friends even like him? Well, he was worse than he had thought of himself and something would have to be done about it. What he did about it was to stay away from Cloddy Villa for almost a week. And when Leslie at last, after repeated efforts to get hold of him by telephone, called him up to say there was an important committee meeting at the church which he ought to attend, he excused his long absence by telling how busy he had been. Of course he had been busy, but Leslie knew that he had always been busy and yet had found time to come in often. She was inclined to be hurt and just the least bit standoffish. Of course if he didn't want to come, he needn't. And she took Clive Terence driving in the car and showed him all the wonders of the surrounding neighborhood with much more cordiality than she really felt. It was her way of bearing her hurt. At last she got Allison by himself and asked him quite casually why Howard hadn't been down. But Allison in haste to keep an appointment with Jane and knowing that Howard enjoyed being down as much as they wanted him hadn't even noticed the absence yet. Oh, he's up to his eyes and work, responded Allison. He's likely busy as a one-harmed paper hanger with fleas. He's a senior, you know. Wait till next year and you'll see me in the same boat. Any hurried away whistling. CHAPTER XXVII Clive Terence hung around. He calmly took it for granite that the clouds wanted him as long as he condescended to stay. In fact it wouldn't have troubled him whether they wanted him or not if he wanted to stay. He had discovered that Leslie was the very same kind of a peach which her younger days had promised her to be and there was plenty of good fun, so he stayed. He said he wanted to see what the college was like before he made his decision and day after day went by with apparently no plans whatever for leaving in the near future. Julia Cloud didn't like him. She admitted that much to herself the very first evening and for that reason she was twice as cordial to him as she might have been if she had liked him better. She reasoned that it was unfair to take a sudden dislike that way and perhaps it was only a sign he needed a bit of their home all the more. So she made him welcome and treated him as she did any other boys who came. But more and more as the days slipped by she did not like him. At first she was a bit worried about his influence on Allison till she saw that he merely annoyed Allison. Then she began to be annoyed by his constant attendance on Leslie and finally she grew exceedingly restless and anxious as day succeeded day and Howard came no more. Finally one evening just before dinner she went to the phone and called up the college. It happened that she caught Howard just as he was going down to dinner. She told him they were homesick for him and there was roast lamb and green peas and strawberry shortcake for dinner wouldn't he come? He came. Who could refuse Julia Cloud? But the face of Clive Terrence was a study when unannounced Howard entered the living room. Julia had seen him coming and quietly opened the door. Such a storm of delighted welcome as met him warmed his heart and dispelled the evil spirits that had haunted him during the week. In the chatter of talk while they were being seated at the dinner table the visitor was almost forgotten and he sat watching them glumly while Allison and Leslie eagerly discussed plans for some society in which they seemed to be interested. At last he grew weary of being ignored and then the first pause he languidly drawled. Leslie, I think you and I'll take the car and go in town to show this evening. I'm bored to death. Leslie looked at him with flashing eyes and then extinguished him with her cool tone. Do you? Well, think again. I'm having a lovely time. And went on talking to Howard about the senior play that was to come off the next week. It did not suit Clive in the least to be ignored so he started in to tell about other senior plays in other colleges where he had been and quite made himself the center of the stage, laughing at his own jokes and addressing all his remarks to Leslie until her cheeks grew hot with annoyance. She wanted so to hear what Howard and Allison were talking about in low, grave tones. She watched the strong, fine face of Howard Letchworth and it suddenly came over her that he seemed very far away from her, like a friend who used to be, but had moved away. Something in her throat hurt and a sinking feeling came in her heart. Like a flash it came to her that Howard Letchworth would be graduated in three more weeks and perhaps would go away then and they would see him no more. She caught a word or two now and then as he talked to Allison that indicated that he was seriously contemplating such a possibility. Yet he had not said a word to her about it and they had been such good friends. A grieved look began to grow around her expressive little cupid's bow of a mouth and her big eyes grew sorrowful as she watched the two. She was not listening to Clive who drawled on unaware of her inattention. Suddenly Leslie became aware that Clive had risen and was standing over her with something in his hand which he had taken from his vest, something small and shining and he was saying, Want to wear it, Les? Here, I'll put it on you. Then everybody will think we are engaged. It was his fraternity pin he was holding out with smiling assurance and the significance of his words came over her as a sentence read without comprehension will suddenly recall itself and pierce into the realization. With a stifled cry she sprang away from him. Mercy, no, Clive! I didn't know you were so silly. I never wear boys' fraternity pins. I think such things are too sacred to be trifled with. This was what she said, but she was miserably aware that Howard had turned away and picked up his hat just as Clive had leaned over her with the pin. And almost immediately he left. He had been so engrossed with his talk with Allison that he had not seemed to see her repulsion of Clive and his manner toward her as he bade her good night with cool and distant. All the pleasant intimacy of all the months together seemed suddenly wiped out and Howard, a grown-up stranger, she felt herself a miserably unhappy little girl. Julia Cloud, from the advantage of the dining-room where she was doing little things for the next day, watched the drama with a heavy heart. What had come between her children and what could she do about it? The only comfortable thing about it seemed to be that each was as unhappy as the other. Could it be that Howard Ledgeworth was jealous of his small, sold, spoiled son of fortune who was visiting them? Surely not. Yet what made him act in this ridiculous fashion? She felt like shaking him even while she pitied him. She half meditated, calling him back and trying to find out what was the matter, but gave it up. After all, what could she do? Leslie, as the door closed behind Howard, turned with one dagger-look at Clive and dashed upstairs to her room where she locked herself in and cried till her eyes were too swollen for steady. But she only told Julia Cloud when she came up gently to inquire that she had a bad headache and wanted to go to bed. Julia Cloud kneeling beside her gray couch a little later, laying all her troubles on the one who was her strength, found it hard not to emphasize her dislike even in prayer, towards the useless little excuse for a young man who was lolling downstairs, reading a novel and smoking innumerable cigarettes in spite of her expressed wish to the contrary. The first Sunday after young Terence's arrival, it rained and was very dismal and cold for spring. Howard had been asked to go to a nearby Reformed School for the afternoon and speak to the boys, and Jane was caring for a little child whose mother was ill in the hospital. Leslie was unhappy and restless, wandering from window to window looking out. Their guest had chosen to remain in bed that morning, so relieving them from the necessity of trying to get him to go to church. But he was on hand for lunch in immaculate attire, apparently ready for a holiday. There was a cozy fire on the hearth, and he lulled, luxuriously in an armchair seemingly well-pleased with himself and all the world. Julia Cloud wondered just what she would better do about the afternoon hour with this uncongenial guest on hand. But Leslie and Alison after a hasty whispered consultation in the dining room, with numerous dubious glances toward the guest, ending in rye faces came and settled down with their Bibles as usual. There was a loyalty in the quiet act that almost brought the tears to Julia Cloud's eyes, and she rewarded them with a loving, understanding smile. But when the guest was asked to join the little circle, he only stared in amazement. He had no idea of trying to conform to their habits. Thanks! No, I hate reading aloud. Books always bore me, anyway. The Bible? Oh, heck no! Count me out! And he swung one leg over the arm of his chair and picked up the Sunday Illustrated Supplement which he had gone out and purchased, and which was now strewn all about the floor. He continued for some time to rattle the paper and whistle in a low tone, rudely while the reading went on. Then he threw down his paper and lighted a cigarette. But that did not seem to soothe his nerves sufficiently. So he strolled over to the piano and began to drum bits of popular airs and sing in a high-nasal tone that he was pleased to call whiskey-tinner. Julia Cloud, with a despairing glance at him, finally closed her book and suggested that they had read enough for that day, and the little audience drifted away unhappily to their rooms. Leslie did not come down again all the afternoon until just time for Christian endeavor. Young Terence, by this time, was reduced to almost affability, and looking up hopefully he was about to propose a game of cards, but when he saw Leslie attired in raincoat and hat he stared. Great Scott! You don't have to go up to college tonight, do you? It's raining cats and dogs! Allison and I are going to Christian endeavor, answered Leslie quietly. Would you like to go? She had been trying to school herself to give this invitation, because she thought she ought to, but she hoped sincerely it would not be accepted. It seemed as if she could not bear to have the whole day spoiled. For answer, young Terence laughed extravagantly. Ha-ha-ha! Christian endeavor! What's the little old idea? Better come and find out, said Allison, coming downstairs just then. Ready, Leslie? We'll have to hustle, it's getting late. In alarm at the idea of spending any more time alone the young man arose, most unexpectedly. Oh, sure I'll go! Anything for a little fun! And he joined them in a moment more, clad in rubber coat and storm hat. Leslie could scarcely keep back the tears as she walked beside him through the dark street, not listening to his boasting about riding the waves in Hawaii. Suppose Howard was at the meeting, he would think, what would he think? And of course, Howard was at the meeting that night, for he happened to be the leader. Leslie's cheeks burned as she sat down and saw that Clive had maneuvered to sit beside her. She tried to catch Howard's eyes and fling a greeting to him, but he seemed not to see his old friends and to be utterly absorbed in hunting up hymns. The first song had scarcely died away before Clive began a conversation with a low growl making remarks of what he apparently considered a comic nature about everything and everybody in the room, with a distinctness that made them entirely audible to those seated around them. Leslie's cheeks flamed, and her eyes flashed angrily, but he only seemed to enjoy it the more and kept on with his running commentary. For pity's sake, Clive, keep still, can't you? whispered Leslie anxiously. They will think you never had any bringing up. I should worry, shrugged the amiable Clive comically with a motion of his handsome shoulders that sent two susceptible young things near him into a series of poorly suppressed giggles. Clive looked up and gravely winked at them, and the two bent down their heads in sudden hopeless mirth. Clive was delighted. He was having a grand time. He could see that the leader was annoyed and disgusted. This was bombed at his bored soul. He made more remarks under cover of a bowed head during the prayer and stole glances at the two giggling neighbors. Then he nudged Leslie and endeavored to get her to join in the mirth. Poor Leslie with her burning cheeks, her brimming eyes, and her angry heart. Her last vision of the leader, as she bowed her head, had been a haughty, annoyed glance in their direction, as he said. Let us pray. She felt that she could not stand another minute of this torture. Almost she felt she must get up and go out, and she made a hasty little movement to carry out the impulse, and then suddenly it came to her that if she went Clive with follower, and it would look to Howard as if she had created the disturbance and they had gone off together to have a good time. So she settled down to endure the rest of the meeting, lifting miserable eyes of appeal to Allison as soon as the prayer was ended. If only there had been a seat vacant up front somewhere, a single seat, with no other near it, where her tormentor could not follow. She would have gone to it swiftly, but the seats were all filled and there was nothing to do but sit still and frown her disapproval. Perhaps Allison might have done something to quiet the guest if he had noticed, but Allison was at the moment of Leslie's appeal, deeply wrapped in setting down a few items which must be announced, and he almost immediately rose and went forward with his slip of paper, and held a whisper converse with Howard Lutchworth during the hymn that followed, afterwards taking a chair down from the platform and placing it beside the chairman of an important committee that he might consult with him about something. During this sudden move on the part of Allison, Clive Terence did have his attention turned aside somewhat from his mischief-making, for he was watching Allison with an amazed expression. Not anything that he had seen since coming to the town had so astonished him as to see this young man of wealth and position and undoubted strength of will and purpose get up in a church and go forward as if he had some business in the affair. He sat up with his loose-handsome underlip half-dropped in surprise, and watched Allison with a curious startled expression, and when a moment later the leader said quietly, Our President has a message for us, and Allison arose and faced the crowded room with an eager spirited interested look on his face, and began to talk earnestly, outlining a plan for a deeper spiritual life among the members. His expression was one of utter bewilderment, as if he suddenly saw trees walking about the streets, or inanimate objects beginning to show signs of intellect. He was thinking that Allison Clive certainly had changed and was wondering what on earth had brought it about. It couldn't be any line that his guardian had on him, for he was a thousand miles away. Was it that little quiet and sippid mouse of an aunt that had done it? She must be rich or something the way the brother and sister seemed to be tied to her apenstream. Where did Al Clive get that line of talk he was handing out anyway? Why, he talked about God as if he were an intimate friend of his, and spoke of prayer and Bible reading in the way common ordinary people talked of going to breakfast or eating candy, as if they were necessary and pleasurable acts. Why, it was inconceivable! What was he doing it for? There must be a reason. For fully five minutes he sat quiet and puzzled thought, watching this strange gathering, gradually taking it in, that they were all taking part in the proceedings and that they seemed interested and eager. Why, even those two giggling girls who had fallen so readily for his nonsense had sobered down and one read a verse from the Bible while the other repeated a verse of poetry. He turned and blinked at them and wondered, what it so influenced them that they all fell in line and performed their part as if it were being rehearsed for his benefit? What was the mode of power? The query interested him to the point of good behavior all through the remainder of the meeting. And while he was standing, waiting for Allison and Leslie at the close, it seemed that somehow there was a real interest for they lingered as if there were vital matters to discuss, and Leslie was the center of a group of quite common-looking girls. It must be some sort of social settlement work or other connected with the church, and someone had induced these two who were to his thinking of a higher order of being by right of wealth and social position to take an interest and run this society or whatever it was. He could not make it out at all. He was much disgusted that the young people insisted on staying to church and had a bad hour living through it, although he was surprised to find it as interesting as it was. The minister seemed quite human, and they had a great deal of singing. Still, it was all a bore, of course. He found a great many things in life to bore him. As soon as he and Allison were out on the street, he broached the subject. What's the little old idea, old man? Are you a sort of grand mogul or high priest or something to this mob? And what do you get out of it? Allison turned and looked solemnly at him through the dark and answered with a kind of glow in his voice that seemed to lighten his face and puzzled the questioner more than all that had gone before. I'm just one of them, son, and it happens to be my turn just now to be presiding officer. But I get out of it more than I ever got out of anything in life before. Oh, said Clive innately, quite at a loss to know what he meant. I never knew before the people could know God personally, be his pal sort of, you know, and work with him, and it's been great, added Allison. Oh, said Clive once more quite weakly, not knowing what else to say. And they walked on for almost a block without speaking another word. Clive was thinking that certainly Allison had changed, as that unmanorly chump on the train had said, changed most perplexingly and peculiarly, but Allison had forgotten almost that Clive was there. He was thinking over some good news he had to tell Jane about a protege of hers who had taken a shy part in the meeting, and wondering if he could get away for a few minutes to run up and tell her, or if it would be better to call her up on the phone. Howard Lechworth had not come home with them. He had whispered a hurried excuse to Allison about someone he had to see up at college, before they left for the city, and hurried away at the close of the meeting. And Leslie, with a choking feeling in her throat, and burning tears held back from her eyes by mighty effort, announced to Allison that she wasn't coming home just now, that she was going to stay for a little after the prayer meeting the Lookout Committee were having. She would walk home with the Martins, who went right by their door. For Leslie was done with Clive Terence, and she wanted him to understand it. So Clive was landed at home with Julia Clough, her companion, who had not gone to church on account of staying to nurse Cherry, who had taken a bad cold and needed medicine. Allison hurried away to give Jane her message and there was nothing for Clive to do but to go to bed and resolve never to spend another Sunday in such boredom. For he couldn't see hobdobbing with an old woman, as he called Julia Cloud, the way the others seemed entirely willing to do. What was she anyway but some poor relation likely who was acting as housekeeper? But at least for once in his life Clive Terence realized that there was such a thing in the world as a live religion, and a few people who held to it and loved it and enjoyed it. He couldn't understand it. But he had to admit it, although he was convinced that behind it all there must be some ulterior motive or those people would never bother themselves to that extent. But Leslie came home from church with a heavy heart and crept up to her room with bravely cheerful smiles to deceive Julia Cloud, and then cried herself to sleep while Julia Cloud, wise-eyed, kept her own counsel and carried her perplexities to the throne of God. End of Chapter 27. Recording by Tara Mendoza. During the next three days there were stirring times, and Leslie, Clive Terence was ignored as utterly as if he had been a fly on the ceiling, and Leslie managed to keep every minute full. Moreover, her mind was so much occupied with other things that she had not time to realize how fully she was cutting their guest out of sight of her, nor how utterly amazed it made him. He was not accustomed to being ignored by young ladies, even though they were both beautiful and rich. He felt that he was quite ornamental himself and had plenty of money too, and he could not brook any such treatment. So he set himself to procure revenge by going hotfoot after the freshman vamp, who, to tell the truth, was much more in his style than Leslie, and quite, quite willing, though Leslie, dear child, was too absorbed to know it. She came home at lunchtime a bit late and called Allison from the table to give him an excited account in a low tone of something that had happened that morning. Julie, a cloud, from her vantage point at the head of the table, could see the flash in her eye and the brilliant flush of her soft cheeks as she talked and wondered what new trouble had come to the dear child. Then she noted the sudden stern set of Allison's jaw and the squaring of his shoulder as he listened and questioned. Meanwhile she passed Clive Terence the muffins and jam and urged more iced tea and hot stuffed potato, and kept up a pleasant hum of talk so that the excited words should not be heard in the dining room. Jane's had a perfectly terrible time, had been Leslie's opening sentence, and we've got to do something about it. Those little cats in the A.O.U. have done the meanest thing you can think of. Jane looked just crushed. They've hauled up that old stuff about her father being a forger and urged it as a reason that she shouldn't be made treasurer in place of Ann Dallas, who's living on account of the death of her father and she has to go home and take care of her little sisters and Jane heard them. A low growl of indignation reached Julia Cloud's ears from Allison, who squared his shoulders into position for immediate action. They said, when on Leslie an excited whisper, they said that since we had such a large sum to look out for now that the subscriptions for the sorority house were coming in, we should put in a treasurer of tried and true integrity. Yes, they used just those words. Tried and true integrity. Think of it. And our Jane. The idea. The catty little snobs. The jealous little cats. No. It wasn't Eugenia Frazier who said it. It was Eunice Bryce. But I'm certain she was at the bottom of it, for she sat with her nice smug little painted face as sweet and complacent as an angel all the time it was going on. And she seconded the motion. Just like that. With a smile, too. She said she fully agreed with what Miss Bryce had said. Agreed. As if everyone didn't know she had started it and got it all fixed up with enough girls to carry the motion before the rest of us got down from an exam. Yes, they had it thought out as carefully as that. They knew all the sophomore girls would be up in that exam till almost twelve o'clock, for it's always as long as the moral law. Anything with professor crabs. And they counted up and had just enough to a name to carry their motion. They even got Marion Hobbs to cut a class to get there. They hadn't counted on my getting there in time to hear, I guess. Or else they didn't care. Perhaps they wanted me to hear it all. I'm sure I don't know. I suppose that must have been it. They thought perhaps I'd tell you. And that would stop you from going with Jane. You know Eugenia and Eunice are both crazy about you, especially Eugenia. An impatient exclamation from Alice and reached the dining room thunderously. Where was Jane? Julia caught that anxious question, and then Clive, who had evidently heard also, roused himself to ask a question. Who is this Jane person they talk so much about? I don't seem to have seen her. Where is she? She is Miss Bristol, said Julia Cloud, stiffening just a little at the young fellow's tone of insolence. She is in college and very busy, but has been unusually busy since you have been here because she is caring for a little child whose mother has been very ill. Oh, you mean she's a sort of servant, he'd draw the question most offensively. And Julia Cloud had a sudden ridiculous impulse to seize his sleek shoulder and shake him. Instead she only smiled and quoted a Bible verse. I have seen servants upon horses, and princes walking as servants upon the earth. Clive eyed her with a puzzled expression. I don't get you, he answered finally. But Julia Cloud made no further comment than to pass him a second cup of coffee. She could hear the soft excited whispers still going on in the living room, and she longed to fly in there and leave this ill-bred guest to his own devices, for she knew something must have happened to trouble her children, and that if this intruder were not present she would be at once taken into their confidence. Still, she had to sit and smile and keep him from hearing them. Leslie was talking more softly now, with cautious looks toward the dining room. Jane had finished her exam, and hurried down because she thought there would be a lot of business, and she wanted Emily Reader to be put in as treasurer, and was trying to work it and hadn't an idea Alice and I were working it out to put her in. We didn't think she would get there, and meant to have it all finished before she came, but someone turned around and gave a queer little cough just as Eunice finished her nasty speech, and we all turned quickly and there in the open doors stood Jane as white as a sheet, with her great big blue eyes looking black as coals, and such suffering I never saw in a human face, and she just stood and looked at them all, a hurt, loving, searching look as if she was reading their souls, and no one spoke nor moved, only Eunice, who got very red, and Eugenia, who straightened up and got haughty and hateful, looking as if she was glad Jane heard it all. She had a kind of glitter in her eyes, like triumph, and it was very still for a whole minute, and then Jane put out her hands in a little quick pleading motion, and turned away quickly and was gone. And what did you do? Alison's tone had hope, threat, condemnation, and praise all held in abeyance on her answer. Leslie drew herself up eagerly, her eyes shining. I? Oh, I wanted to run after her and comfort her. But I had something else to do. I jumped up and offered my resignation to the AOU, and said I wished to withdraw my subscription to the sorority house that I couldn't have anything to do with a bunch of girls that would stand for a thing as contemptible and mean as that. Of course, said Alison, with a proud look at a sister. And Phoebe Kemp jumped up and withdrew hers, until they all apologized to Jane, and then Alice Lowe said she'd have to withdraw hers, too. She's given the highest amount subscribed, you know. She has slews of money all on her own right, because she's of age, you know. And then the girls began to get scared, and Elsie Dare got right up and said she thought there had been some kind of a mistake, a slunder. They mustn't get excited. They must begin all over, and somebody must go after Jane and bring her back and explain, as if there was any way to explain a bold, bare insult like that. And they sent a committee after her. They wanted me to go, but I declined to go in their name. I said I had handed in my resignation, and I wasn't one of them any more. And they might send somebody who would better represent them. And they said they hadn't accepted my resignation, and a lot of stuff, but they sent off a committee to find Jane. And they tried to think up something quickly to say to her. And they got Eunice Bryce crying and made Eugenia real mad, so the powder came off her nose from rubbing it so much. And I came away. I've been hunting for Jane for half an hour, but I can't find her in any of the places she always is, and I thought I'd better come and tell you. That's right. I'll find her. Alice then made one step to the hat rack and took his hat, then raising his voice. Cloudy? I've been called away on business suddenly. Don't bother keeping anything for me. I've had all I want. And he was gone. Julia, Cloud, gave a glance at Alice's plate, and saw that he had scarcely touched his lunch, and she sighed as she heard Leslie running quickly up the stairs and shut the door of her own room. Was Leslie going to spend the afternoon in weeping? But Leslie was down again in a moment, and standing in the doorway, her curls tumbled, her eyes bright and anxious, an indignant little set of her lips and chin giving her a worried expression. Julia, I've got to go. There's something important on. I'll tell you about it all when I get back. No, please, I couldn't eat right now. You get Cherry to save me some strawberry shortcake. And she was off like a breeze and out of sight. Wait a minute, Leslie. I'll go up with you. Called Clive with his mouth full of shortcake and cream. But Leslie was already whirling down the street like the wind. Alice then had taken the car so there was nothing left for Clive to do but finish his shortcake and think up some form of amusement with the freshman vamp for the afternoon. Allison, meantime, had made a straight dash for the college and sent a message up to Jane that he must see her at once on very important business. After what seemed to him an endless wait, word came down that Jane was not in her room and her roommate knew nothing of her whereabouts. Allison made a wild dive for his car and drove to every one of the places where Jane sometimes went to help out with the children when their mothers were particularly busy. But no Jane materialized. He drove madly back to the college for getting his usual cool philosophy of life and fancying all sorts of terrible things that might have happened to Jane. He swept past Eugenia Frazier without even seeing her and brought up in front of the office once more, intending to send up and see if Jane had yet returned. But on the steps stood Leslie waiting for him. She's gone to the woods up above the old quarry, she said anxiously. I've just found out, Benny the kitchen boy told me. He says he saw her go out between Chemistry Hall and the boy's gym about an hour ago. She must have gone right after she left the meeting. Nobody seems to have seen her since. Nobody but Benny knows anything about her going to the woods and I gave him some money and told him not to say anything about it if anyone asked. I was just going to hunt her. That's all right, kid. You take the car and I'll follow up the road. I'll go through the woods and look for her, said Allison, springing out. You will be careful, won't you? You know that quarry is terribly deep. I know, said Allison, his tone showing his own anxiety. And Jane hasn't scrambled around here as much as we have. She hasn't had time. And there is so much undergrowth close up to the edge, one could come up on it unaware, especially if one was excited and not paying attention. I better beat it, jump in and drive me round the college and I'll get off at the gym. Leslie sprang in and Allison stood on the running board, his sister cast a wistful glance at him as she started the car. Allison, I think maybe you needn't worry, she said softly. You know, Jane is real. She isn't weak like some people. She won't go all to pieces like... well, like I would. God means something to her, you know? I know, said Allison gravely, gently. Thank you, kid. Well, I get off here, meet me at the top of the second hill in half an hour, and hang around there for a bit. I may whistle, see. So long he dashed off between the buildings and disappeared between the trees and the edge of the woods. Leslie whirled off down the drive to the street. As she passed the big stone gateway Ivy garlanded and sweet with climbing roses, three seniors turned into the drive and the foremost of the three was Howard Lutchworth. Her heart leaped up with joy that here was someone who would understand and sympathize. And she put her foot to the break to slow down with the light of welcome in her eyes. But before she could stop he had lifted his hat and passed on with the others, as if he were just anyone. Of course he had not seen her intention, did not realize that she wanted to speak with him, yet it hurt her. A week or two before she would have called after him or even back the car to catch him, but now something froze within her, and with her heart beating wildly and tears scorching her eyes, she put on speed and whirled away up the hill. It seemed to hurt her that all her lovely world was breaking into pieces under her feet. If it had not been that she was worried about Jane, she would have been tempted to abandon everything and rush off in some wild way by herself, anywhere to be alone and face the ache in her heart. It was such a torrent of deep mingled feelings, hurt, pride, and anger, humiliation and pain. All these words rushed through her mind, but there was something else besides something that ought to have been beautiful and wonderful, and was only shame and pain, and she had not yet come to the point where she was willing to call that something by name. She knew that soon she must face the truth and have it out with herself, and so her cheeks flamed and paled and the tears scorched and hurt in her eyes and throat. And she tried to put it all away and think about Jane. Poor hurt Jane. Jane, gone into the woods to have it but with herself, but Jane was strong and Jane trusted in God. Her God was strong too. Jane would come through, only the sweeter. But what would become of her? Little fiery, tempetuous Leslie, who always did the wrong thing first and was sorry afterwards, and who forgot God when she needed him most. These thoughts flitted like visions through her brain while she put on all speed and tore away up the hill at a much faster rate than she had any business to do. But the road was clear ahead of her, and there was some relief in her flying along through space this way. It seemed to clear the mist from her brain and cool down her throbbing pulses. Yet just when she would think she had control of her thoughts that stern, distant expression on Howard's face would come between her and the afternoon brightness, and back would roll the trouble with renewed vigor. What a world this was, anyway. And why did people have to live? Just trouble, trouble, trouble everywhere. And who would have thought there would come trouble between her and Howard? Such good friends as they had been now almost two years, two wonderful years. And again her weary brain would beat over the question, what have been the matter? What made Howard act that way? Surely nothing she could have done. OF CHAPTER XXVIII. MEANTIME. ALISON WAS DASHING OVER FALLEN TREES, CLIMBING ROCKS AND PUSHING HIS WAY BETWEEN TANGLED VINES AND CLOSE GROWN LORAL, UP AND UP THROUGH THE COLLEGE WOODS, AND A CROSS COUNTRY IN THE DIRECTION OF THE QUARRY. A STILL WONDERFUL PLACE, LIKE A CATHEDRAL, WITH A DEEP DARK POOL AT THE BOTTOM OF THE MASSIVE STONE WALLS. THERE WERE OVER ARCHING PINES, HEMLOCKS, AND OAKS FOR VALTED ROOF, WITH THE FRESCOE OF SKY, AND FLYING CLOUD BETWEEN. IT WAS A WONDERFUL PLACE. ONCE WHEN THEY HAD CLIMBED THERE TOGETHER, AND STOOD FOR A LONG TIME IN SILENCE WATCHING THE SHADOWS ON THE DEEP POOL BELOW, LOOKING UP TO THE ARCHING GREEN AND LISTENING TO THE PRAISINGS OF A SONG SPARLE UP ABOVE IN SOME HIDDEN QUIER. JANE HAD SAID THAT THIS WAS A PLACE TO COME AND WORSHIP, OR TO COME WHEN ONE WAS IN TROUBLE. A PLACE WHERE ONE MIGHT MEET GOD. He had looked down at her sweet face, upturned, searching for the little thrilling singer, and had thought how sweet and wonderful she was, and how he wanted to tell her so, and would some day. But must not yet. He hadn't thought much about what she was saying, but now it came back, and he knew that she must have gone here with her trouble. He need not have worried about the quarry and the deep dark pool. He kept telling himself all the way up that he need not. But when he reached the top and came inside of her he knew it. Knew also that he had been sure of it all along. She was sitting on a great fallen log, quietly, calmly, with her back against an old gnarled branch that rose in a convenient way, and her head was thrown back and up as if she was seeing wonderful visions somewhere among the green and the blue and white above. It was as if she had reached a higher plane where earthly annoyances do not come and felt it good to be there. There was almost a smile on her beautiful lips, a strong, sweet, wistful smile. She had not been looking down at the deep treacherous pool at all. She had been looking up, and her strength had come upon herself. For one long instant the young man paused and lifted his hat, watching her in a kind of awe. Her face almost seemed to shine as if she had been talking with God. He remembered dimly the story of Moses on the mount talking with God. He hesitated, almost to intrude upon a solitude so fine and wonderful. Then in relief and eagerness he spoke her name. Jane. She turned and looked at him, and her face lit up with joy. Oh, it is you. Why, how did you happen? I came to find you, Jane. Leslie told me everything, and I have hunted everywhere, but when you were not at college I somehow knew you would be here. I wanted to find you and enfold you, Jane. Wrap you around somehow with my love and care if you will let me, so that nothing like that can ever hurt you again. I love you, Jane. I suppose I'm a little previous in all that, being only a kid as it were, and neither of us out of college yet, but I shan't change, and I'll be hanged if I see why it isn't all right for me to have the right to protect you against such annoyances as this. He was beside her on the log now, his face burning eagerly with deep feeling, one arm protectingly behind her, the other hand laid strongly, possessively over the small folded hands in her lap. Perhaps I'm taking a lot for granted, he said humbly. Perhaps you don't love me. Can't even like me the way I hoped you do. Oh, Jane, speak quick and tell me. Darling, can you ever love me enough? You haven't drawn your hands away. Look up and let me read your eyes, please. No. She had not drawn her hands away, and she did not shrink from his supporting arm, and she was the kind of girl who would not have allowed such familiarities unless, ah, she had lifted her eyes and there was something blindingly beautiful in them and tears, great, wonderful tears, so sweet and misty that they made him glad with a thrill of beautiful pain. Her lips were trembling. He longed to kiss her, yet he knew he must wait until he had her permission. Alison, listen, you are dear, wonderful, but you don't know a thing about me. I know all I want to know. And that is a great deal, you darling you. And now he did kiss her and drew her close into his arms and would not let her go even when she struggled gently. Alison, listen, listen, please, I must tell you, wait. She put her hands against his breast and pushed herself back away from him, where she could look in his face. Please, you must let me go and listen to what I have to say. I'll let you go when you tell me yes or no, Jane. Do you? Can you love me? I must know that first. Then you shall have your way. Jane's eyes did not falter. She looked at him. You promised you know. Yes, Alison, I love you. But no, you must not kiss me again. You must let me go and listen. You promised you know. Alison's arms dropped away from her. But his eyes held her in a long look of joy. All right, darling, go to it. He said with a joyous sound in his voice. I can stand anything now, I know. It seems too good to be true, and it's enough for me, but hurry. A fellow can't wait forever. No, Alison, you must sit back and be serious. It isn't really happy, you know. What I have to tell you? Alison became grave at once. All right, Jane. Only I can't imagine anything terrible enough to stop this happiness of mine unless you're already married and have been concealing it from us all this time. In spite of herself, Jane laughed at that. And Alison breathed more freely now. The tenseness was gone out of her voice. His hands went out and grasped hers. At least I can do this. He pleaded, and Jane lifted her eyes now serious again and smiled tenderly, letting her hands stay in his passively. Listen, Alison. My father. I know, Jane, dear. I heard it long ago. Your father was a forger. What do you suppose I care? He probably had some overpowering temptation and yielded. Never dreaming, but he would be able to make it right. You can't make me believe that any parent of yours was actually bad. And besides, if he was, it wouldn't be you. Alison, listen, broken Jane gravely, stopping the torrent of words with which he was attempting to silence her. It isn't what you think at all. My father wasn't a forger. He was a good man. He wasn't, exclaimed Alison joyously. Then what in thunder? Why didn't you tell him so, Jane? He tried to draw her to him, but she still resisted. That's just it, Alison. I can't. I never can. Well, then I will. You shan't have a thing like that hanging over you. But that is just what you must not do. And you can't do it either, if I don't tell you about it, for you wouldn't have a thing to say, nor any way to prove it. And I won't tell you, Alison, ever, unless you will promise. Alison was sobered in an instant. Jane, don't you know me well enough to be sure I would not betray any confidence you put in me? I thought so, said Jane, smiling through her tears. Dear, said Alison in a tone that was a caress, full of longing and sympathy. Jane sat up bravely and began her story. When I was 12 years old, my mother died. That left father in me alone. And we became very close. Comrades indeed. He was a wonderful man. Alison's fingers answered with a warm pressure of sympathy and interest. He was father and mother both to me. And more and more we grew to confide in one another. I was interested in all his business, and used to amuse myself asking him about things at the office when he came home, the way mother used to, when she was with us. He used to talk over all my school friends and interests, and we had beautiful times together. My father had a friend, a man who had grown up with him, lived next door and went to school with him when he was a boy. He was younger than father and, well, not so serious. Father didn't always approve of what he did, and used to urge him to do differently. He lived in the same suburb with us, and his wife had been a friend of mothers. She was a sweet little childlike woman, very pretty and an invalid. They have one daughter, a girl about my age. And when we were children we used to play together. But as we grew older mother didn't care for us to be together much. She thought it was better for us not to. And as the years went by we didn't have much to do with one another. Her father was the only one who kept up the acquaintance, and sometimes I used to think he worried my father every time he came to the house. One day when I was about fourteen, he came in the afternoon just after I got home from school, and said he wanted to see father as soon as he came home. Couldn't I telephone father and ask him to come home at once, that there was someone there wanting to see him on important business? He finally called him up himself, and when father got there they went into a room by themselves and talked until late into the night. When at last Mr. that is the man went away. Father did not go to bed but walked up and down the floor in his study all night long. Toward morning I could not stand it any longer. I knew my father was in trouble, so I went down to him, and when I saw him I was terribly frightened. His face was white and drawn, and his eyes burned like coals of fire. He looked at me with a look that I never shall forget. He took me in his arms and lifted up my face, a way he often had when he was in earnest, and he seemed to be looking down into my very soul. Little girl, he said, we're in deep trouble. I don't know whether I've done right or not. There was something in his voice that made me tremble all over, and he saw I was frightened and tried to be calm himself. Janey, he said. He always called me Janey when he was deeply moved. Janey, it may hit hardest on you. And though I met your life to be so safe and happy. I tried to tell him it didn't matter about me, and for him not to be troubled, but he went on telling about it. It seems the father of this man had once done a great deal for my father when he was in a very trying situation, and father always felt an obligation to look after the son. Indeed he had promised when the old man was dying that he would be a brother to him no matter what happened. And now the son had been speculating and got deep into debt. He had formed some kind of stock company, something to do with Western land and mines. I never fully understood at all. But there had been a lot of fraudulent dealing. Although father only suspected that at the time. But anyway, everything was going to fall through, and the man was going to be brought up and disgraced before the world if somebody didn't help him out. And father felt obliged to stand by him. Of course he did not know how bad it was, because the man had not told him all the truth. But father had taken over the obligations of the whole thing. He thought he might be able to pull the thing out of trouble by putting a good deal of his own money into it and make it a fair and square proposition for all the stockholders without their ever finding out that everything had been on the verge of going to pieces. You see the man had put it up to father very eloquently that his wife was very ill in the hospital and if anything should happen to him and he were arrested it could not be kept from her and she would die. It's true she was very critically ill, had just been through a severe operation and was very frail indeed. Father felt it was up to him to shoulder the whole responsibility, although of course he felt that the man richly deserved the law to the full. Nevertheless, because of his promise he stood by him. That night the man was killed in an automobile accident soon after leaving our house. And when it developed that the business was built on a rotten foundation and that father was in partnership, you see the man had been very wily and had his papers all fixed up so that it looked as if father had been a silent partner from the beginning. Everything came back on father and he found there were overwhelming debts that he had not been told about, although he supposed he had sifted the business to the foundation and understood it all before he made the agreement to help him. Perhaps if the man had lived he would have been able to carry his cricket dealings through and save the whole thing with what helped father had given him and neither father nor the world would ever have found out. I don't know. But anyway, his dying just then made the whole thing falling ruins and right on top of father. But even that we could have stood. We didn't care so much about money. Father was well off and he found that if he put in everything he could satisfy the creditors and pay off everything. And he had courage enough to be planning to start all over again. But suddenly it turned out that there had been a check forged for a large amount and it all looked as if father had done it. I can't go into the details now, but we were suddenly face to face with the fact that there was no evidence to prove that he had not been a hypocrite all these years except his own life. He thought for a few days that of course that would put him beyond suspicion. But do you know the world is very hard? One of father's best friends, one he thought was a friend, came to him and offered to go bail for him for my sake if he would just tell him the whole truth and own up. There was only one way and that was to go to the man's wife and try to get certain papers which father knew were in existence because he had seen them and which he had supposed were left in his own safe the night the man talked with him but which could not be found. As the wife had just been brought back from the hospital and was still in very critical condition father would not do more than ask if he could go through the house and search. And that woman sent back a very indignant refusal, charging father with having been at the bottom of her husband's failure and even the cause of his death and telling him he had pauperized her and her little helpless daughter and the daughter began treating me as a stranger whenever we chance to meet. Alison's face darkened and his eyes looked stern and hard. He said something under his breath angrily. Jane couldn't catch the words but he drew her close in his arms and held her tenderly. And were those papers never found, dear? He asked after a moment. Yes, said Jane wearily, resting her head back against his shoulder. I found them. After father died. You found them. Yes. I found them slipped down behind the chest in the hall. It was a heavy oak chest, a great carved affair that had belonged in the family a long time. And it was seldom moved. It stood below the hat-rack in the alcove in the hall. And I figured it out that the man must have meant to keep those papers himself, so there would be no incriminating evidence in father's hands, and that he must have picked them up without father's noticing and started to carry them home but that when he was going away, putting on his overcoat, he had somehow dropped some of them behind that chest without knowing it. Because they were not all there. Two of them were missing. Father had described them to me, and three, the most important ones with the emptied envelope, were found. The other two were probably larger and looked like the whole bundle which explains how he came to think he had them all. But the two he had, and must have had about him when he was killed, would not in themselves have been any evidence against him. So my father was arrested. The tears choked Jane's voice and suddenly reigned into her sweet eyes as she struggled to recall the whole sorrowful experience. Oh, my darling! cried Alice and tenderly holding her close. Father was very brave. He said it was sure to come out all right, but he wouldn't accept bail, though it was offered him by several loyal friends. He saw that they suspected him and the papers all came out with big headlines. Church elder arrested. Alice's voice was deep with loving sympathy as his lips swept her forehead softly and he murmured. My poor little girl. But Jane went on bravely. That was a hard time, she said with trembling lips. But God was good. He didn't let it last long. There came an old friend back from abroad who had known Father ever since he was a boy, and who happened to have been associated with him in business long enough to give certain proofs that cleared the whole thing up. In a week the case was dismissed so far as Father was concerned and he was back at home again and restored to the full confidence of his business associates. That is those who knew intimately about the matter. If Father had lived, I have no doubt everything would have been all right, and he would have been able to live down the whole thing. But the trouble struck him hard. He was so terribly worried for my sake, you know. Then he took a little cold, which we didn't think anything about. And suddenly before we realized it, he was down with double pneumonia from which he never rallied. His vitality seemed to be gone. After he died, the papers said beautiful things about his bravery and courage and Christianity and people tried to be nice. But when it was all over, there were still people who looked at me curiously when I passed and whispered noticeably together. And that man's wife and daughter openly called me a forger's daughter and said that my father had stolen their income when all the time they were living on what he had given up to save them from disgrace. The daughter made it so unpleasant for me that I decided to go away where I was not known. Although I had several dear beautiful homes open to me if I had chosen to stay, where I might have been a daughter and treated as one of the other children. But I thought it was better to go away and make my own life. But you had evidence. Did you never go and tell those two how wrong they were and how it was their father not yours who was the forger? No, not exactly, said Jane, lifting clear and troubled eyes to his face. You see, that was part of father's obligation. It was a point of honor not to give that man shame away to his wife. He had promised. And then the man was dead. He could not be brought to justice. What good would it do? It would have done the good that those two women wouldn't have gone round snubbing you and telling lies about you. Oh, well, after all, that didn't really hurt me. And that brazen girl wouldn't have dared come here to the same college and make it hot for you. Alison, how did you know? Jane sat up and looked into his eyes startled. I knew from the first mention that it must have been Eugenia Fraser. No girl in her senses would have taken the trouble to do what she did today without some grievance. Oh, that girl, she is beyond words. Think of anybody ever falling in love with her. I'd like the pleasure of informing her what her father was. Of course, though it wasn't her fault. She couldn't help her father being what he was. But she could help what she is herself. I should certainly like to see her get what's coming to her. Don't, Alison, please. It isn't the right spirit for us to have. Perhaps I'd be just like her if I were in her place. I see you being like her, you angel. And Alison leaned over again to look into the eyes of his beloved. Well, dear, we'll get the right spirit about it somehow and forget her. But I mean she shall understand right where she gets off before this thing goes any further. No. You needn't protest. I'm not going to give away your confidence. But I'm going to settle that girl where she won't dare to make any more trouble for you ever again. And the first thing we're going to do is announce our engagement. I feel like going up to the college bulletin board right this minute and writing it out in great big letters. Alison. Jane sat up with shining eyes and her cheeks very red. Then they both broke down and laughed, Jane's merriment ending in a serious look. Alison, you really want me? Now that you know what people may think about my father? Jane, I've known all that since I first saw you. Our beloved pastor kindly informed me of it the night he introduced us. So you see how little weight it had with any of us. I had no knowledge but that it was all true. Although I couldn't for the life of me see how a man who was unworthy of you could have possibly been your father. But it was you and not your father I fell in love with the first night I saw you. I'm mighty glad for your sake that he wasn't that kind of man. Because I know how you would feel about it. But as for what other people think about it, I should worry. And Jane, make up your mind right here and now that we're going to be married the day we both graduate. See, I won't wait a day longer to have the right to protect you. The tall trees whispered above their heads and the birds looked down and dropped wonderful melodies about them. And Leslie stormily drove her car back and forth on the pike and sounded her clacks in loud and long. But it was almost an hour later that it suddenly occurred to Allison that Leslie was waiting for them. And still later, before the two, with blissful lingering, finally wended their way out to the road and were taken up by the subdued and weary Leslie who greeted them with relief and fell up on her new sister with eager enthusiasm and genuine delight. An hour later, Allison, after committing his future bride to the tender ministries of Julia Cloud, who had received her as a daughter, took his way collegeward. He sent up his car to Miss Frazier and Miss Bryce and requested that he might see them both as soon as possible. And in a flutter of expectancy the two presently entered the reception room. They were hoping he had come to take them out in his car, although each was disappointed to find that she was not the only one summoned. Allison, in a few minutes of waiting for them, seemed to have lost his carefree boyish air and have grown to man's estate. He greeted the two young women with utmost courtesy and gravity and proceeded at once to business. I have come to inform you, he said with a bow, that might almost be called stately. So much had the tall slender figure lost its boyishness. That Miss Bristol is my fiancée. And as such it is my business to protect her. I must ask you both to publicly apologize before your sorority for what happened this morning. Eunice Bryce grew white and frightened. But Eugenia Frazier's face flamed angrily. Indeed, Allison Cloud, I'll do nothing of the kind. What in the world did you suppose I had to do with what happened this morning? You had all to do with it, Miss Frazier. I happen to know all about the matter. Well, you certainly don't, flamed Eugenia, or you wouldn't be engaged to that little Bristol hypocrite. Her father was a common. Allison took a step toward her, his face stern but controlled. Her father was not a forger, Miss Frazier. And I have reason to believe that you know that the report you are spreading about college is not true. But however that may be, Miss Frazier, if I should say that your father was a forger, would that change you any? I have asked Miss Bristol to marry me because of what she is herself, and not because of what her father was. But there is ample evidence that her father was a noble and an upright man, and so recognized by the law, and by his fellow tansmen, and I demand that you take back your words publicly, both of you, and that you, Miss Frazier, take upon yourself publicly the responsibility for starting this whole trouble. I fancy it may be rather unpleasant for you to remain in this college longer, unless this matter is adjusted satisfactorily. Well, I certainly do not intend to be bullied into any such thing, said Eugenia angrily. I'll leave college first. Eunice Bryce began to cry. She was the protege of a rich woman, and could not afford to be disgraced. I shall tell them all that you asked me to make that motion for you, and promise to give me your pinking and indress if I did, reproached Eunice tearfully. Tell what you like, returned Eugenia grandly. It will only prove you what you are, a little fool. I'm going up to pack. You needn't think you can hush me up, Allison Cloud. If you are rich, money won't cover up the truth. No, said Allison, looking at her steadily, controledly, with the memory of his promise to Jane. No. But Christianity will, sometimes. Oh yes, everybody knows you're a fanatic. Sneered Eugenia, and swept herself out of the room with high head, knowing that the wisest thing she could do was to depart while the going was good. When Allison reached home a few minutes later, Julia Cloud put into his hand a letter, which his guardian had written her soon after his first visit, in which he stated that he had made it a point to look up both the young people with whom his wards were intimate, and he found their records and their family irreproachable. He especially went into details concerning Jane's father and the noble way in which he had acted, and the completeness with which his name had been cleared. He uncovered one or two facts which Jane apparently did not know, and which proved that time had revealed the true criminal to those most concerned, and that only pity for his family and the expressed wish of the man who had borne for a time his shame had caused the matter to be hushed up. Allison, after he had read it, went to find Jane, and drew her into the little sun-parlor to read it with him, and together they rejoiced quietly. Jane lifted a shining face to Allison after the reading. Then I'm glad we never said anything to Eugenia. Poor Eugenia, she is greatly to be pitied. Allison a little shame-facedly agreed, and then owned up that he had fired Eugenia as he expressed it from the college. Oh, Allison! said Jane, half troubled, though laughing in spite of herself at the vision of Eugenia trying to be lofty in the face of the facts. You ought not to have done it, dear. I've stood it for so long it didn't matter. Only for your sake, and Leslie's. For our sake's nothing, said Allison. That girl needed somebody to tell her where to get off, and only a man could do it. She'll be more polite to people hereafter, I'm thinking. It won't do her any harm. Now Jane, darling, forget it. Let's be happy. Be careful, Allison. Someone is coming. I think it's that Mr. Terrence. Dog gone his full hide, murdered Allison. I wish he'd take himself home. I certainly would like to tell him where to get off. Leslie's as sick of him as I am, and as for Clowdy, she's about reach the limit. Why, Allison isn't Leslie interested in him? He told Howard that they were as good as engaged. Leslie interested in that little cad? I should say not. If she was, I'd dishonor. You say he told Howard they were engaged? What a lie! So that's what's the matter with the old boy, is it? I thought something must be the matter that he got so busy all of a sudden. Well, I'll soon fix that. Come on up to Clowdy's porch quick, while he's in his room. Clowdy won't mind. We'll be by ourselves there till dinner is ready. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Matters came to a climax with Howard Lechworth before Allison had any opportunity to do any fixing. The next day was class day, and there were big doings at the college. Howard kept out of the way, for it was a day on which he had counted much, and during the winter, once or twice, he and Leslie had talked of it, as a matter, of course, that they would be around together. His class day had seemed then to be of so much importance to her. And now? Now she was going to attend it in Clive Terence's company. Terence had told him so, and there seemed no reason to doubt his word. She went everywhere with him, and he was their guest. Why shouldn't she? So Howard went glumly about his duties, keeping as much as possible out of everyone's way. If he had not been a part of the order of exercises and a moving spirit of the day, as it were, he would certainly have made up an excuse to absent himself. As it was, he meditated trying to get someone else to take his place, and was on his way to arrange it, just before the hour for the afternoon exercises to begin, when suddenly he saw, coming up the wide asphalt walk of the campus, young Terence and the girl who had come to be known among them as the Freshman Vamp. His eyes hastily scanned the groups about, and searched the walk as far as he could see it, but nowhere could he discover Leslie. With a sudden impulse he dashed over to Julia Cloud and, forgetful of much of his late estrangement, spoke with much of his old eagerness, albeit trying his best to appear careless and matter of fact. Isn't Leslie here about somewhere, Miss Cloud? I believe I promise to show her the ivy that our class is to plant. It was the first excuse he could think of, but Julia Cloud was full of sympathy and understanding, and only too glad to hear the old ring of friendliness in his voice. She lowered her tone and spoke confidentially. She wouldn't come, Howard. I don't just know what has taken her. She said she would rather stay at home. Is she down there now? Julia Cloud nodded. Perhaps you— I will, he said, and was off like a dash. On his way down the campus he thrust some papers into a classmate's hands. If I don't get back in time, give those to Halstead and tell him to look out for things I'm called away. Never in all his running days had he run as he did that day he made the station in four minutes when it usually took him six, and was at the Cloud Villa in two more. All out of breath but radiant. Something jubilant had been let loose in his heart by the smile in Julia Cloud's eyes. Utterly unreasonable, of course, but still it had come, and he was entertaining it royally. It was rather disheartening to find the front door locked and only Cherry to respond to his knock. Isn't Miss Leslie here? he asked, a blank look coming into his eyes as Cherry appeared. Miss Leslie done just skittered across the backyard with a paddle in her hand. I reckon she's gone to the creek. Miss Jules, she'll be powerful upset if she comes back and finds out she don't like Miss Leslie go down to them canoes all by her lonesome. It's all right, Cherry, said Robert, cheering up. I'll go down and find her. Got an extra paddle anywhere or did she take them both? No, sir, she only took the one. Here's the other. I reckon she'll be right glad to see you, Master Howard. We all has missed you mighty powerful lot that their little fish-eyed lady man what is visiting us ain't no kind of subs too too tall for you. Howard beamed on her silently and was off like a shot, forgetful of the chimes on the clock of the college, which were now striking the hour at which he was to have led the procession down the ivy-walk to the scene of festivities. Over two fences, across lots, down a steep rocky hill, and he was at the little landing where the cloud canoe usually anchored. But Leslie and her boat were gone. No glimpse of bright hair either up or down the stream gave hint of which she had taken. No ripple in the water even to show where she had passed. But he knew, pretty well, her favorite haunts upstream where the hemlocks bowed and bent to the water and made dark shadows under which to slip. The silence and the beauty called her as they had always called him. He was sure he would find her there rather than downstream where the crowds of in- people played around, and the tennis courts overflowed into canoes and dottled about with ukuleles and cameras. He looked about for a means of transport. There was only one canoe well chained to its rest. He examined the padlock for a moment, then put forth his strong young arm and jerked up the rest from its firm setting in the earth. It was the work of a second to shoot the boat into the water, fling the chains, boat rest and all into the bow and spring after. Long, strong, steady strokes, and he shot out into the stream and away up beyond the willows, around the turn where the chestnut grove bloomed in good promise for the autumn. On the railroad bridge and the rocks, past the first dipping hemlocks, around the curve below the old camp where they had had so many delightful picnics, and watched the sunset from the rocks, and on up above the rapids. The current was swift today. He wondered if Leslie had been able to pass them all alone, yet somehow he felt she had, and he would find her up in the quiet haven where few ever came and where she would be undisturbed. Paddling Indian, he came around the curve silently and was almost upon her, but was unprepared for the little huddled figure down in the bottom of the boat, one hand grasping the paddle which was wedged between some stones in the shallow stream-bed to anchor the frail bark, the other arm curved about as a pillow for the face which was hidden, with only the bright hair gleaming in the stray rays of sunshine that crept through the young leaves overhead. Leslie, little girl, my darling, what is the matter? He scarcely knew what he was saying, so anxiously he watched her. Was she hurt or in trouble? And if so, what was the trouble? Did the vapid little guest and the freshman vamp have anything to do with it? Somehow he forgot all about himself now and his own grievance. He only wanted to comfort her whom he loved, and it never entered his head that just at that moment the anxious Halstead was inquiring of everyone. Haven't you seen Letchworth? Class day'll be a mess without him. Something must have happened to him. Leslie lifted a tear-stained face in startled amaze, his voice, those precious words. Leslie heard them even if he took no cognizance of them himself. I—you—well—you ought to know! burst forth Leslie, and then down went the bright head once more and the slender shoulders shook, with long suppressed sobs. It certainly was a good thing that the creek was shallow at that point, and the canoes quite used to all sorts of conditions. Howard Letchworth waited for no invitation. He arose and stepped into Leslie's boat, pinioned his own with a dexterous paddle, and gave attention to comforting the Princess. It somehow needed no words for a while, until, at last, Leslie lifted a woe-begone face that already looked half appeased and inquired sobbly. What—what made you add so perfectly horrid all this time? Why, I—I began Howard lamely, wondering, now, just why he had. Why, you see, Leslie, you had company and— Company? That? Now, Howard, you weren't jealous of that little excuse for a man, were you? Howard colored guiltily. Why, you see, Leslie, you are so far above me. Oh, I was, was I? Well, if I was above you, where did you think that other ridiculous little simp belonged? I should like to know, not with me, I hope. But, you see, Leslie, somehow the great question that had loomed between them these weeks dwarfed and shriveled when he tried to explain it to Leslie. Well? Well, I've just found out you are very rich. Well? Well, I'm poor. But I thought you just said you loved me, flashed Leslie indignantly. If you do, I don't see what rich and poor matter. It'll all belong to us both, won't it? I should hope not, said the young man, drawing himself up as much as was consistent with life in a canoe. I would never let my wife support me. Well, perhaps you might be able to make enough to support yourself, twinkled Leslie with Miss Jiff, in a dimple near her mouth. Leslie, now you're making fun, I mean this. Well, what do you want me to do about it? Give away my money? Of course not. I was a cad and all that, but somehow it seemed as though I hadn't any business to be coming around you, when you were so young and with plenty of chances of men worth more than I. More what? More money? Leslie, this is a serious matter with me. Well, it is with me too, said Leslie suddenly grave. You certainly have made me most unhappy for about three weeks. But I'm beginning to think you don't love me after all. What is money between people who love each other? Only something that they can have a good time spending for others, isn't it? And suppose I should say I wouldn't let you support me. I guess after all, if you think so much of money, you don't really care. Leslie! Their eyes met, and his suddenly fell before her steady, beautiful gaze. Well then, Howard Letchworth, if you are so awfully proud that you have to be the richest, I'll throw away or give away all my money, and be a pauper. So there. Then will you be satisfied? What's money without the one you love anyway? I see, Leslie, I was a fool. You darling, wonderful princess. No, keep your money. And I'll try to make some more, and we'll have a wonderful time helping others with it. I suppose I knew I was a fool all the time. Only I wanted to be told so. Because you see that fellow told me you and he had been set apart for each other by your parents. A sudden lurch of the canoe roused him to look at Leslie's face. Oh, that little liar! Yes, he is. He is the meanest, conceitedest, most disagreeable little snob. There, there, we'll spare him. Laughed, Howard, I see I was wrong again. Only Leslie, little princess, there's one thing you must own is true. You're very young yet, and you may change. Now I like that! cried Leslie. You don't even think I have the stability to be true to you. Well, if I'm as weak-looking as that, you better go and find someone else. But he stopped her words with his face against her lips and his arms about her, and at last she nestled against his shoulder and was at peace. Chiming out above the notes of the wood robin and the thrush, there came the faint and distant notes of the quarter-hour striking on the college library. It was Leslie who heard it. Howard was still too far up in the heights to think of earthly duties yet awhile. Howard, isn't this your class day? And haven't you a part in the exercises? Why aren't you there? He turned with startled eyes and rising color. I couldn't stay, Leslie. I was too miserable. I had to come after you. You promised to be with me today, you know. But your class poem, Howard, quick! It must be almost time to read it. He took out his watch. Great Scott! I didn't know the time had gone like that. Leslie's fingers were already at work with the other canoe, tying its chain to the seat of her own. Now! she turned and picked up her paddle swiftly, handing Howard the other one. Go! For all your worth! You mustn't fail on this day, anyway. Beat it with all your might. It's too late, said the man reluctantly, taking the paddle and moving to his right position. It's not too late. It shan't be too late. Paddle, I say. Now! One and two and—and they settled to a rhythmic stroke. It was so wonderful back there, Leslie, said Howard wistfully. We oughtn't to let anything interfere with this first hour together. This isn't interfering, said Leslie practically. It's just duty, and that never interferes. Here, we'll land over there and you beat it up the hill. I'll padlock the boats by that old tree and follow. But don't you dare wait for me. I'll be there to hear the first word, and they'll have waited for you. I know. A little to the right there. Now! step out and beat it. He obeyed her and presently came panting to the audience room, with a fine color and a great light in his eyes, just as Halstead was slipping down to inquire of Allison. Where the thunder is lurchworth? Seen him anywhere? Heavens, man! Hasn't he showed up yet? Ask Allison, startled. Where could he be? Julia clouded beside him, leaned over, and quietly drew their attention to the figure hastening up the aisle. Halstead, hurried back to the platform, and Allison, relieved, settled once more in his seat. But Julia cloud rested not in satisfaction, until another figure breathlessly slipped in, with eyes for none but the speaker. Then into the eyes of Julia cloud there came a vision, as comes to one, who, watching the glorious setting of the sun, sees not the regretful clothes of the day that is past, but the golden promise of the day that is to come. End of Chapter 30. Recording by Jenny Lundack, South Padre Island, Texas. End of Cloudy Jewel by Grace Livingston Hill.