What the world made them
page: 0 (TitlePage) [View Page 0 (TitlePage) ] 'BY THE AUTHOR OF "TRAVELS OF AN AMERICAN OWL." NEW YORK: G. P. PUTNAM & SONS, 4th AVENUE & 23d STREET 1871. page: 0[View Page 0] Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1871, BY G. P. PUTNAM & SONS, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. Nos 108 to 114 Wooster St., N. Y. :HlV A SHADOW TO THE REALITY. page: 0 (Table of Contents) [View Page 0 (Table of Contents) ] CONTENTS. - O .A E RT I. PROSPERITY. Chapter Page I. -TTHE LUXURIOUS NEST OF TWO YOUNG BIRDS.. 9 II.-THE GOVERNOR FORD PLACE ................ 20 "I.-THE BROTHER ENTERS THE WORLD........... 35 IV.--THE C. A. D. SOCIETY, .................. .. ... 53 V.-THE SISTER ENTERS THE WORLD.............. 73 VI.-MARION WINS A PRIZE........................ 84 VII,-HA ROLD THE BAD ANGEI .............. VIII.-ALFRED AND MARION ARE LEFT ORPHANS.... 110 - SAfT II. il ^ADVERSITY. IX.--DISGRACE AN INHERITANCE ... ... . 129 X.-THE STORY OF AN AMBITIOUS GIRL.......... 14 XI.-MR. POWELL'S STORE ............... 19 XII.--MARION'S FLIGHT ........................... 21K XIII.-BALLOONS WITHOUT BALLAST ............. 231 -X.1- XIV.--HAROLD CARLTON'S DEATH ..25....... 25t XV'.-THE LITTLE BROWN GENTLEMAN............. 263 X XYI.-A COUNTRY DOCTOR AND A MARKET (*ARDENER. 274 page: 0[View Page 0] PART I. PROSPERITY. page: 0-9[View Page 0-9] CHAPTER I. THE LUXURIOUS NEST OF TWO YOUNG BIIRDS. BUT I DONT believe it! Who told you, M chael?" "I heard it, Miss," was the guarded reply. The two speakers were as great a contrast in appearance as it is possible for the extreme, Youth and Age, to be: Youth represented by a small, slender girl of fifteen, with her hair flowing in a crimped man over a delicate white dress, according to the latest dictate of fashion, and her straw hat pushed back in her excitement, as if the wearer was reckless of the sun's scorching influence upon nose and rounded chin; Age in the person of a heavy stooping old man, with withered brown counte- nance, and faded eyes peering -out from beneath bushy whllite eyebrows-eyes that brightened only when they rested on flowers. "It's a likely story I shouldn't know myself (9) page: 10-11[View Page 10-11] 10 What the World Made Them. You mean Al., Michael, I am sure," continued the girl, twisting her shoulders about with a petu- lant, childish gesture of doubt and indecision. "Perhaps, dearie," said the old man patiently, who had first seen this imperious young person a wee bundle of flannel, with a comical little red face, and two tiny fists flourished defiantly in the air, a day old, "Go to the Governor yourself, and see." The girl, without any second bidding, turned, and rushed swiftly over the smooth lawn towards the house, leaving the old gardener to gather up rake and watering-pot with-a quiet chuckle of amusement. "She's a rare 'un too, and her mother over again," ihe muttered, and then pottered about among the flower beds, surveying the gorgeous bloom of scarlet, and purple, and blue, with a professional glance, keen to detect drooping spray, withered blossom, or any intrusive rank growth of weed, for old Micllae's life was bound up in that of the plants of his rearing, and his world lay within the enclosure of Governor Ford's grounds. The Nest of lwo Young Birds. " In the meanwhile the girl's rapid flighlt had carried her up to the grand mansion, h'er home, with its stately tower of' rough-lhewn gray stone, projecting balconies, and broad windows through which the outside landscape of winding shrubbery was only softened, not obscured by the pure, solid glass. The girl flitted beneath the archway which spanned the entrance, and entered the portal of dark, polished wood, riclily carved, and ornamented with bronze knobs in harmony with the massive beauty of the structure. She did not pause in the cool, marble-paved hall, hllere the light fell in rainbow tints through the stained glass dome, coloring the pillars that uplheld it, and the ground with a glorl of gold and purple, to admire the broad stairway with a graceful statue in the curve of the banisters, poising a gilded lamp globe above the head. Marion had often stared at the statue wlien a little girl, wondering if the marble lady was never tired of holding up her slender arms in that un- comfortable attitude, but she never noticed it now, or indeed any of the luxurious appointments of the handsome nest in which she had been born. page: 12-13[View Page 12-13] 12 What the World Made Them. She accepted her paradise as a matter of course, and so did Alfred, also, for that matter. A quick patter of French-heeled boots, a sharp rustle of flying garments, a floating cloud of hair hastily tossed back, a successive slamming of several doors, and the daughter perched herself on the broad arm of her father's chair, from which posi- tion she slid to the cushion at his feet with more rapidity than grace of movement. Mr. Ford,--o Governor Ford as he was always called, from having served in that official capacity two terms, years before-was seated at a table in his library, and now that the door had banged after the noisy entrance of his impulsive, petted daughter, the four walls of this apartment contained the whole Ford family. "Is it true that I am to go away, papa?" cried Marion, eagerly, and quite heedless that she interrupted the indulgent father's occupation of writing. "Gelntly, gently, my pet. You are a 'whirl- wind in petticoats,' as Napoleon termed Madame de Staiel," he replied, the pen continuing to move rapidly across the paper spread before him. The Nest of Two Young Birds. 13 Marion's bright face clouded; she bit her lip impatiently, and looked sullen as her quick glance fell on an open letter delicately tinted and per- fumed, and stamped with an elaborate monogram. The slanting, Italian, spidery handwriting was familiar to the young girl. "I wish Aunt Maud would mind her own business, that I do " Alfred,-fitting a new collar on his rebellious little Spitz dog "Snap," by the window--whis- tled a loud, prolonged note expressive of astonish- ment, or derision, which hlad the desired effect of irritating hot-tempered Marion still more. "Alfred ought not to whistle in the house in that way, papa; it isn't polite." ' Oh! if it comes to that," retorted Alfred with spirit, " a young lady should not tear into her father's library like a wildcat, and, flounce down on the floor a la Turc. Conme now, how do you like that, Miss?" "Sir! I was talking to my own papa, and not to you, by your leave." "Indeed! Ahem I don't let's speak again until we are spoken to, Snap." page: 14-15[View Page 14-15] " What the World Made- Them. "Hush, children," interrupted Mr. Ford, tap- ping Marion lightly on the head with his gold pen holder--the severest reproof she ever received for her naughtiness. "It is not at all becoming in little girls to look sulky, if you will accept a suggestion, nor is it in keeping for a young gentleman' about to enter college, to tease his sister." Alfred and Marion glanced at each other with a not altogether amiable expression, scarcely defiant, but thoroughly cross, and yet in the hearts of this brother and sister was a latent affection, of which they were at the time nearly unconscious, although Alfred would have promptly decapitated any enemy in his sister's pathway, with the spirit of heroism natural to a lad of his age, while Marion would as readily have hurled herself into the breach of impending danger, for him. All the same in a small tiff, they glanced sourly askance at each other. Mr. Ford, always care- ful, and deliberate il his movements, dried his pen, closed the inkstand, and leaned back in his chair, pressing the tips of his slender white The Nest of Two Young Birds. 15 fingers, on one of which sparkled a diamond of great brilliancy, together, and began to explain mhatters to Marion. "Our home systemn of education has not been altogether successful, I fear," the smooth tones of his voice were measured and cold, even in speak- ing to his own children. "You worried poor Miss Thorne, the governess, to death with your pranks, May, and what wonderful progress you have made in Latin, Master Al., with your father. Your aunt proposes that you should be tamed, and polished a trifle in a city school, where you can be under her care; very good arrangement." But Marion did not think so. "Slle is always pulling my sash straight, or something, and regulating my appearance," she said ruefully. ' I think you had better go. In fact, I have given my consent that arrangements all be made for your reception into Madame Latour's establishment," continued Mr. Ford, suppressing a smile of amusement, as he glanced at his petu- lant, wayward daughter, who was now the very picture of dismay. Marion made an affectionate page: 16-17[View Page 16-17] 16 What the World Made Them. dash at the calm, stately gentleman, cracking his eyeglass, and nearly strangling him by the energy of her embrace. "I don't want to go, papa; please let me stay with you. It's ever so much nicer here," she urged coaxingly, arranging her papa's gray hairs in stiff curls, like horns, around his face, which gave him a very wild and singular appearance indeed. ' I wouldn't cry like a baby, if I were you," advised Alfred, holding his head on one side to admire Snap in the new collar. "I should call it awfully jolly to go to school, while I'm in college, you know, then I shall not find you such a little dunce when I come home." "A great deal you will learn," contemptuously retorted Marion. "I shall study ever so hard to keep up with you, see if I don't," and her eyes, which had threatened a moment before to be clouded with tears, began to sparkle at the pros- pect, which suddenly seemed to brighten at the artful Alfred's suggestion. After all, might it not be very nice! Alfred, naturally sweet-tempered, was very much pleased The Nest of Two Young Birds. 17 with himself for having come to the rescue in time to prevent Marion from having a good cry on papa's shoulder. Tears made him nervous, somehow, and now he amiably added that she might accompany him on horseback for the last time, next morning, if she liked, and received a joyous assent for his condescension. So Mr. Ford made his arrangements to send his two precious nestlings out into the world, for the first time alone, to try the wings of their own un aided strength, make their own blunders, and learn their own lessons from experience. The father was too wise not to appreciate that the change would be of great advantage to his chil dren, in maturing their characters, and yet he sighed regretfully that his own plan of educating them himself, had not succeeded better; for con stant interruption had occurred in the home edu cation, constant excuses been made for play, an absence. Golden sunbeams floated through the open with dow, resting on the stiff portraits on the wall dressed in the powdered wigs and ruffs of a past century,-family portraits of the ex-Governor page: 18-19[View Page 18-19] 18 What the World Made Them. honorable ancestors,-this one in the robes of Chief Justice, noted in the early days of the Republic, that one in the old continental uniform, grasping his sword hilt firmly, as if his gaze already penetrated the future, and beheld the glorious goal of freedom. Resting on the three living faces, as well,-that of the father dlearly cut, and refined, with a closely cropped gray moustache, and silvered hair; that of the son open, and frank, with merry blue eyes, careless and happy in expression, but with a mouth that closed firmly, giving the lower portion of the face a square, determined look, exactly like those of the portraits above him, and which the father's features, strangely enough, lacked; and that of the daughter, clear olive in hue, vivacious, bril- liant, perpetually changing in expression, as the surface of some clear lake ripples with every pass- ing breeze. Mr. Ford mentally compared them, when they had bounded out through the window. Alfred was slow, steady, and persistent, when he was interested in attaining any object; Marion quick, impulsive, but easily influenced. The Nest of Two Young Birds. 19 He had been able to rear them thus far, thor- oughly sound and healthy in organization, with- out peevish discontent ever inching their fea- tures, or corroding their dispositions, and was he not to be congratulated on that? To be sure they had not a whim ungratified, and accepted as their right advantages, which to the children of poverty would seem dazzling, and astonishing good fortune; yet they were natural, and unre- strained to a surprising degree, considering the surrounding influences of the town, and in that they preserved an individuality which gave the father hope of the future. Mr. Ford prided himself on the philosophy that had suggested so lenient a rule as he had always exercised over his children. Why thwart, and impose restraints upon them in early youth? The future would bring its own trials speedily enough. All very well for the infancy born with a gold spoon in its mouth, but if the gold spoon should ever be exchanged for the com- mon pewter of Adversity? page: 20-21[View Page 20-21] 20 What the World Made Them. CHAPTER II. THE GOVERNOR FORD PLACE. ARION acted with great promptness always after she had jumped at a conclusion. Unfortunately, by this very promptness, she often leaped from the frying-pan into the depths of the burning coals, when a moment's prudent reflec- tion would have saved her from such a fate. When she quitted her father's presence, she marched straight up-stairs to 'her own pretty, dainty chamber, and proceeded to dispose of her worldly goods, as if going to school involved the necessity of giving away all her trinkets by will. As a first step she took down her pet canary bird from the sunny alcove where it swayed, and trilled sweet music amidst clustering vines, and clinging tendrils of ferns in porcelain pots and rustic standards; put on her hat carelessly, and with the bird's handsome gilded cage in one hand, a blue parasol in the other, left the house. The Governor Ford Place. 21 It soon became apparent that the parasol was carried to protect the bird from the sun's warm rays, instead of herself, for Marion held it so as to screen the cage, without heeding the dazzling glare of noonday light. Governor Ford's house and grounds were the perfection of cultivated taste, and artificial skill. Strangers in visiting the town, were expected to ramble through the winding avenues of stately trees, that formed green arbors of verdure over- head, by their interlaced branches; to admire the glittering glass-domed conservatories, where rare exotics, and the pendant clusters of purple grapes ripened into full, luscious life, beneath the sun's warm kisses. Wide alleys, -here hot-house flowers bloomed in reckless, prodigal confusion, were reflected in a silver ball on the lawn; on its polished surface, could be traced the diverging paths of this wilderness of perfume and blossom. The smooth terraces held marble fountains veiled in the sparkling mist of their own spray, and orange trees drooped golden tropical fruit, in con- trast to the snowy, fragrant blossoms of the lemon; the parterres of rhododendrons and page: 22-23[View Page 22-23] 22 What the World Made Them. azaleas, that awoke into a crimson life simul- taneously; the vivid shades of blossoming cactii, merging ifrom scarlet, to delicate, creamy pink, grouped in standards about the base of old trees; pines from the snow-capped peaks of the Hima- laya mountains, and cedars that had fringed the mantle of stately Lebanon, spread feathery tas- sels on the foreign soil of Governor Ford's lawn, that swept from the house down to a trim hedge, while in the distance murmured and shimmered the lovely expanse of sea. Marion, trudging down the path with a busi- ness-like expression of countenance, looked much more frequently at the gilded cage, to see if the parasol shaded her canary's pretty yellow head, than at the charming scene about her, although her glance rested on the shrubbery with that soothed pleasure, which a landscape where every unsightly object is removed, and the beautiful en- hanced, yields even to careless youth, accustomed to it all from infancy. Marion had not her father's taste for, flowers, although their color and scent were grateful enough to her, a taste which in Governor Ford served for an outlet to the most - l. I The Governor Ford Place. 23 passionate delight, the most absorbing, enthusiastic interest in study and research for an otherwise quiet, reserved, rather indolent gentleman. Years of his life had been spent converting a wilderness to its present, almost ideal perfection, a labor never completed to his satisfaction, when to the untrained eye the task seemed finished. Not a tree, or a shrub, or a plant that the owner did not watch unfold into symmetry, clothe with fresher verdure, and, often lie might be seen ab- sorbed for hours in admiring the velvet petals of some new bud, where the humming birds hov- ered, and the bees droned their sleepy music. If Mr. Ford ever spoke harshy, or gave an impa- tient denial to any petition made by Alfred or Marion, it was when he was calculating the ex- pense of a new avenue, or the possibility of transporting some rare exotic. Possessed of legions of friends, -the rich man's friends, elegant in dispensing his hospi- tality, of fine education, and most polished breed- ing, if the question had been put to Mr. Ford whose society he enjoyed best, the answering con- viction of his own reason, at least, would have page: 24-25[View Page 24-25] 24 What the World Made Them. been that of Micllael, the old gardener. Both were enthusiasts, both felt the most energetic interest in executing any project; they were little less than monomaniacs on the subject of harmless, pleasure-giving flowers, for although a rose sheds its grateful sweetness in the garrets of the poor; or, clustering about the modest walls of a humble home, may impart pleasure to all; the costly tulips, such as bloom in the stiff, formal gardens of Holland, fragile lilies, and the waxen purity of jasmine lived a brief existence, and fiaded in Governor Ford's grounds, perishable and fleeting, while human flowers, -little children - within reach, lacked bread. The great iron entrance gates clanged after Marion, and she floated at once from the boundary of seclusion, into the glittering, chang- ing tide of pompousdisplay; for the young girl's lot had not been cast in the peaceful retreat of a country village, where her father might have been the one great man, but in a large town where the tide of fashion swept in at stated seasons, and ebbed again with the dying year, leaving a pro- found hush of quiet, as if for the winter's snow The Governor Ford Place. 25 to obliterate its presence with a purifying touch. The town had once been ambitious of becoming one of the great thriving cities of the land, receiving into the safe shelter of the harbor, ships freighted with the riches of every country, and extending gradually over the surrounding hills in fine suburbs; but the prosperous impulse received a check in the superior advantages of rival cities, the town limits contracted, rather than expanded, decay began to leave its traces in the narrow streets of dark houses,-then it was that a half yearly brightening of dull monotony came, and the place was converted into a fashionable resort. Tiny pleasure-craft furled sails, and dropped min- iature anchors where the masts of stately mer- chant-ships never drew a net-work tracery against the sky; large hotels opened wide their portals to the thronging multitudes; a select aristocracy haughtily screened itself behind hedges of shrub- bery in summer villas, luxurious in appointment, yet receiving the title of "Cottages." Marion's home, taking precedence of all the rest, had no name other than the Governor's place. 2 page: 26-27[View Page 26-27] 26 What 'the World Made Tihe. The brother and sister found this yearly influx of society amusing, and delightful; they had young mates in' plenty among tie throng, and every one was invariably polite to them. Marion sauntered along the street, bird-cage in hand, entirely indifferent to criticism, recognizing friends at every step in the-brilliant throng of equipages passing, harness trappings flashing, graceful horses prancing, and curvetting beneath the lash. Sometimes a lady held the reins that guided the course of a light phaeton, shaped like a curved shell; sometimes a black coachman skilfully curbed the four fiery steeds of a carriage so high that the occupants seemed to be uncom- fortably perched on the roof of an omnibus, while their complacent expression plainly said: "Behold, how much more ridiculous we have suc- ceeded in making ourselves than the rest of you!" sometimes a young equestrian of twenty, pale, supercilious, and languid, paced along as if he was already weary of a world that could teach him nothing new. Up and down the avenue rolled the carriages in the same endless routine. One could not seek the beach, where the waves The Governor Ford P/ace. 27 came dancing in crystal clear, at an hour whhen others did not, or the refieshing open country, when all the world was here instead. Everybody looked as impassive, and vacantly uninterested as possible, in order to assure every- body else that they were quite at ease amidst such elegance, although occasional sidelong glances might have been detected, cast around to judge if success marked the effort, while every trace of cheerfulness, or gaiety was carefully extin- guished. Presently a little basket carriage, lined with crimson velvet, and drawn by a sturdy pony with gilt chains hanging about his neck, came trundling along towards Marion, and in it two young girls were seated. 'How do you do,l dear?" called the driver affectionately, and passed with a bow. "Walk- ing on the street, swinging a bird-cage," she added, looking at her companion with disgust, as Marion pursued her way. ." Ma says she thinks Governor Ford must be crazy, to let her run around as she does," and Miss Osborne spread out the ruffles and laces of her own dress com- placently. page: 28-29[View Page 28-29] 28 What the World Made Them. This young lady's boots-and waisthand pinched her sadly, and she wore on her head enough false hair in exaggerated puffs, and enormous braids, to have clothed,the heads of four corpses. "Everyone knows who she is, though," replied the other girl, and Miss Osborne gave one little regretful sigh of envy, not the only one breathed on the gay thoroughfare that afternoon, where fair ladies arrayed in such delicate fabrics as are suitable only for the drawing-room, felt reduced to beggary, in appearance, after glancing at the more extravagant costumes in the next barouche. This was precisely the cause of Marion's proud independence: she was Governor Ford's daughter, and to rank first, even in a very little world, is something. Fashion had deserted the lower streets of the town hours before, but Marion, holding the canary above the reach of such inquisitive dogs and longing cats, as she met, passed down a steep hill, across a shady old square, and entered a low, old fashioned house, which seemed to be half dwelling, and half shop. The place was The Governor Ford Place. 29 very venerable and time-stained, and the tide of the harbor rippled nearly up to the rear windows. A library of quaint volumes, faded and dusty, was ranged on shelves; a few geraniums, care- -fully tended, stood in the windows; a small counter with a glass show-case inserted in the top, contained fancy trifles: and behind the counter sat a little withered old lady, who peered up at Marion through her spectacles, with a pleasant smile of greeting, and allowed her nim- ble. fingers to pause in her work while she wel- comed her young guest. "How's business, Miss Mitty?" inquired -Marion, taking a seat also behind the counter, and holding the bird-cage on her lap. 4"Better than usual, my dear," replied the old lady cheerfully. "The library has taken quite a fresh start, lately, but it's not among young peo- ple," and Miss Mitty shook her head reprovingly, as if she regretted that her quaint love tales, in many volumes of thrilling adventure, were not attractive to the present generation; but she was glad that a few appreciative elders still remained for whom "Geraldwood," and the "Mvsteries of Udolpho " possessed piquancy and fascination. page: 30-31[View Page 30-31] 30 What the World Made Them. The Ford children could not remember the early period when Miss Mitty had not kept the little library, inherited from her father, without the addition of a new volume for fifteen years, and made pen-wipers and pin-cushions after her own ingenious imagination, from large, tropical looking yellow flannel butterflies, to plump elephants and donkeys. It had always been great fun to visit her, and it was not at all un- usual to find Alfred letting out books from the library at two pence a day, or Marion selling the worsted mats of the showcase-playing at "keeping shop." In a very tiny way, Miss Mitty looked forward "to the season," spreading out her small wares to attract the public eye. Marion could not keep her important secret long, especially as the old lady began to chirrup at the bird, holding a bit of sugar between the bars of the cage at the same time. I am going away to school, and I've brought the bird to you, Miss Mitty. Where shall we hang up the cage? Oh! I know, where your poor little Java sparrow used to swing." O- The Governor Ford Place. 31 Marion jumped up on a chair, and suspended the astonished Dicky from a hook above the win- dow, which had a dingy outlook upon a lumber yard, and two dilapidated row boats lashed to the pier. "Now behave yourself, and sing your best song for Miss Mitty," said the young mistress, shaking a warning finger at the little songster, and feeling a sudden pang of regret at losing the pet. Dicky cocked his head on one side, looking, askance at the lumber yard, as if it was not at all the prospect which should be presented to a bird of his rare qualities; ruffled his soft golden plumage doubtfully, concluded to make the best of it by hopping down to flirt the seeds off the cup which served as a bird dining-room, and when he hopped up again, chirped ' peep" half briskly, half disconsolately. "But, my child, you will repent of your rash generosity, I am afraid," said Miss Mitty, looking distressed. "When you return from school, you will miss the bird." "If you please, ma'am, it is not polite to decline a gift," said lMarion laughing. "Has page: 32-33[View Page 32-33] 32 What the World Made lThem. Alfred been to see you?" A warm glow of pleasure overspread the old lady's delicate face. "God bless the boy! Yes, and he brought me a fine, soft shawl as a parting present, that was fit for a queen to wear." "It is like him to be before me," said the sis- ter, pouting. There, I have nearly forgotten business! I have got an order for you, Miss Mitty, for six donkeys, with windmills on their backs, you know." "Miss Mitty became quite excited at the pros- pect of this large contract. "Dear, dear! I'm afraid that I have lost the donkey pattern, I am growing so careless, and it's very difficult to get the legs of equal length with- out a guide. Dogs, or cats would not do as well, I suppose?" "No," returned Marion, firmly, " there's a style about your donkeys. I tell you what I will do, Miss Mitty, I'll just gallop my pony down early to-morrow morning, and make him stand still, while you cut and baste from nature. I am sure Trot is short, and stumpy enough for a model, and he's a perfect donkey in disposition, if that's all you want." The Governor Ford Place. 33 Marion had not taken ten steps homewards when a new idea came to her with vivid force. "' Poor old Miss Mitty will enjoy the bird, but I might have hung it in the library, to remind papa of his little daughter. I wish I had waited until to-morrow." Little Miss Mitty left alone, began to sort her silks, and gay colored odds and ends for the donkey business. The setting sun resting in a crimson ball on the rim of the horizon, shed a parting glory across the azure waters of the har- bor, into the window where Dicky hung; and warmed by the ruddy glow, the little bird uttered a soft, tremulous trill of melody, plaintive and sweet. The old lady's hands drooped in her lap, and a sudden mist of tears dimmed her spectacles. All the light of youth seemed to have faded beyond that water line of harbor for her years ago, just as the day waned now, when a ship weighed anchor for the East, and vanished never to return again. She had waited, and grown old, with the town, while her home, once considered spacious and imposing, but now crowded by shops, crum- 2* page: 34-35[View Page 34-35] 34 What the World Made Themn. bled slowly to decay, and Miss Mitty's slender purse could only be filled by renting the rooms, reserving the shop for herself. The canary bird, humored by Miss Mitty's tender caresses, tucked his head dismally under one wing and dreamed, very possibly, that he had been brought to this dark place on purpose to be served up-at a cat banquet. The Brother Enters the World. 35 CHAPTER III. THE BROTHER ENTERS THE WORLD. THE rain was pouring steadily, dancing in the spouts and gutters of the college buildings, collecting in pools on the mouldy stone steps of the chapel, and stripping the withered leaves, one by one, from the venerable trees in front. Alfred Ford was standing at the window of his room, with his hands in his pockets, and wearing a blank, rather dismal, expression of countenance. Alfred was homesick. The prospect from the window was cheerless, the interior of the small, lplain room, still more so, where a rusty stove stood beside a yawning chimney hole, with the pipe still detached, a worn carpet covered the floor, stained with ink in many places, and the wall was discolored with damp. The Freshman had received dark, mysterious hints as to the discipline necessary to tame his pride, but as yet the probable fulfilment seemed page: 36-37[View Page 36-37] 36 What the World Made Them. vaguely indefinite, and Alfred's natural cheerful- ness of disposition speedily asserted itself. "I can soon make the old place look jolly with my traps," he reflected. ' Lucky the Governor gave me such a handsome outfit, I think, when I look into some of the- fellows' chambers. Harold said he might change quarters, and be my chum, if he liked my new furniture. Pretty cool, that, I should say I but then le's a soph." The magic wand of wealth soon converted Alfred's rooms into most comfortable apartments; the poor student who had previously occupied them, and hovered shiveringly over the rusty stove, could scarcely have again recognised his dreary abode, with heavy crimson curtains drap- ing the casements, a few fine engravings grouped on the walls, a rich, soft carpet, inviting the feet to stray among velvet rosebuds, carved tables, and chairs scattered about. Then the appointments of Alfred's toilet were far more costly than those of most of his com- panions, for all the dainty trifles in crystal and porcelain to which he had been accustomed, had been supplied by his father's thoughtful care. I At .Y The Brother Elders the World. 37 When order was established, cousin Harold lounged in with that superiority of manner only to be expected from a young gentleman who had been already a year in college, and possessed the additional advantage of being several inches taller, several months older than Alfred. Harold was a handsome youth, thin-featured, with large, black eyes, and dark complexion. A petted, only son of Aunt Maud's, a thorough dandy, vain of his silky black moustache, critical as to the shade of his cravat, and conscious of the smallness of his hands. Nobody liked Harold Carlton. His sharp wit woundel, his imperious bearing offended, and it was seldom, indeed, that he disturbed the repose of his own comfort, to consider that of other peo- ple. In the whole college, a worse clioice of loom-mate could scarcely have been made for Alfred Ford, just from home, than his reckless, dashing cousin, restlessly intent on any mischief, simply because it afforded him temporary excite- ment and an excuse for neglecting his studies. "I think this will do, my boy," said Harold, stretching himself luxuriously in the most com- page: 38-39[View Page 38-39] 38 What the World Made 71em. fortable chair (Harold had an unconscious way of taking the best of everything always.) "Where's your tobacco, though? What, don't you smoke yet?" " I have promised father that I will not until I am twenty," replied Alfred, coloring, in spite of himself, beneath the curious gaze of Harold's malicious black eyes. Harold laughed a little mocking laugh, as if the absurdity of making the promise to one's father, was only equalled by the intention of keeping it faithfully. "Oh of course, if the old gentleman came down handsome in the matter, it's another thing." "Came down handsome! What do you mean?" said Alfred indignantly, "I was not bribed." "I didn't know but what he made it worth while by the gift of a diamond ring, or some hun- dreds," said Harold carelessly, puffing clouds of smoke from his meerchaum that left a stale scent in Alfred's pretty room, afterwards. "I made the promise, and I intend to keep it," J .-- . .IYI L The Brother Enters the World. 39 said Alfred, trying to look firm and at his ease, although he felt a certain uneasy conviction that his cousin must consider him less of a man than before. "Pity!" commented Harold. "All the fel- lows smoke, here." (But Alfred did not keep his word long, and made himself dreadfully giddy and ill, trying to conquer a loathing for the rank strong weed, in order to imitate Harold, and the " other fellows" without loss of time.) "I shall strike my colors, and march over here," said Harold. "My things are pretty well worn out, and knocked to pieces after last term. Look out for me the first of the week. And, I say, Alfred, every fellow has to fight his own battles, you know, and I daresay, there's mischief brewing for, you. I can't meddle with- out a row, but I will lend you this strong bolt which I used when I first came. You just screw it on before you go to bed. I wouldn't undress, the first night or so, either. Keep cool, and pre- tend to enter into the joke, too, and then they will cease to torment you." The young gentle- page: 40-41[View Page 40-41] 40 What the World Made Them. man departed, feeling that he had done all he could in season, to launch his cousin among the shoals and quicksands of a difficult career. Presently Alfred heard a whispered consulta- tation on the landing outside his door, and then with a modest, ingratiating rap, a tall boy with red hair, slid in demurely, to make Alfred's acquaintance--waiving all necessity of ihtroduc- tion. Nothing could have exceeded the propriety of the red-headed boy's conduct, as he sat bolt upright on the edge of a chair, with his two large long hands-toughened to leather by play- ing base-ball-resting on his knees, or the polite- ness of his reception. "Never been to college before, s'pose," jerked the visitor, his pale eyes roaming round the room, from the door to the window, catching at each prominent article in their progress. No." "You will like it, I guess." "I hope so." Again the stranger's eyes made a journey of discovery through Alfred Ford's dominions. Alfred offered him firuit,-some of Governor The Brother Enters the World. 41 Ford's delicious grapes, and pears-and the red- haired boy devoured the portion with intense relish. Finally with deceitful amiability, lie arose to go, and shot a last cruel glance of mingled triumph, and mischief, back at Alfred as he did so. The boy locked his door, and softly screwed on the bolt for additional protection; then removingi only his coat, in obedience to his cousin's advice, threw himself on the bed, and was soon sound asleep. A pealing rap on the door, startled him, and confused by the novelty of his position, lie called out drowsily:- "Who is there?" "Get up and see, or it will be worse for you," was the threatening reply, accompanied by a kick on the door which made the panels creak. Alfred ran to the front window, and looked out,-the walls of the main building extended with frightful steepness down to the ground. He rushed to the rear window, and there found a slight hope of escape, for a pipe ran down beside the window, and below it at a distance of ten or fifteen feet, projected a corner of the library roof. page: 42-43[View Page 42-43] 42 What the World Made Them. Without pausing to reflect on the probability of breaking his neck in the descent, Alfred climbed from the window to the pipe, slid swiftly down to the roof, where it required the most desperate exertion not to rebound over the edge into the dizzy space of trees, shrouded in mysterious shadows, gained the shelter of a chimney, and crawled on hands and knees, to the other extremity of the roof. The door above was burst in with a crash which reached even the fugitive's ears; a murmur of rage and disappointment resounded, and soon faces were peering out of the window by which he had escaped. "I see him, on the roof," cried the red-haired ringleader. "Where are the ladders? Be quiet, boys, or the President may catch you." When the long ladder was placed against the library wall, Alfred was not on the roof, and his tormentors were forced to sullenly retire, vowing future vengeance. As the large clock in the tower slowly boomed the hour of five, a figure crept cautiously through a narrow grating in the cellar of the library into the open air, and man- The Brother Enters the World. 43 aged to steal unobserved, up into his own rooms again. How he had succeeded in climbing, with cat- like agility, from the roof to one of the broad windows below, which fortunately slid open to admit him, remained a mystery afterwards, even to himself. Alfred quietly re-hung the door on its hinges, and in the grey light of day, looked about at the destruction wrought in his absence. Every article of porcelain and glass had been smashed, and carefully heaped together in a pile where the ruin would attract his notice. Tables- were overturned, and their contents rudely tram- pled upon; the rounds, and legs of chairs twisted off; while a scarlet cap, embroidered by Marion, held an ink-bottle reversed, the black fluid having soaked through the gold flowers, stained the morocco of the desk, and dripped in rivulets upon the floor. Alfred, haggard and pale with fatigue and loss of sleep, his hands bruised and bleeding, his sleeves torn, stood gazing silently around, and realized that the discipline of life had indeed begun in the brutality and cruelty of his new mates. page: 44-45[View Page 44-45] " What the World Made Them. Harold surveyed the ruin with composure. ' I wonder you escaped as easily, they might have made a bonfire of the whole concern. I guess you wont be able to keep nice china here, for the present." Alfred received so many sidelong, wrathful glances during the day, that he began to think his unknown enemies must number a legion. When night came, exhausted nature claimed her own, and after Alfred had sunk into a pro- found repose, a head appeared at his window, a light form bounded in, the door was unfastened from the inside, and the Freshman surrounded by his tormentors before he was fairly awake. Now the victory was complete! They dragged him forth, compelled him to de- scend the ladder alone, while the frail support was swayed about by those above, to render his pas- sage more perilous, and repeatedly drenched him with torrents of ice-cold water thrown from the upper: story. Alfred was calmly impassive, offer- ing no resistance, yet as unmoved by any torture or humiliation, as an Indian. Harold had warned him that rebellion was dangerous against so The Brother Enters the World. 45 many, and his naturally calm temperament was of still greater assistance in maintaining a col- lected demeanor, and disguising the hot anger surging within him. For hours, every prank that ingenuity and cruelty could devise, was practised on the lad who had escaped the previous night, with tenfold severity. Not relying on their own powers of imagination alone; these young gentlemen drew largely on the honorable annals of their prede- cessors in the College, which might not have occurred to their own understanding otherwise. Alfred Ford was held suspended in a dark well, in frightful dread of the slender rope that held him, snapping or being purposely slackened so that he should plunge into the cold waters glim- mering faintly below. He was hurried through bewildering pathways, where sharp briars and pebbles pierced his bare feet, with his eyes closely bandaged, then dipped suddenly beneath the sluggish surface of a stagnant pool on the extreme verge of college limits. Then he was seized by a dozen strong hands, stretched in a rough coffin, the lid pressed closely down, and page: 46-47[View Page 46-47] " What the World Made Them. lowered into the ground. A clod of earth rattled on the lid, a sickening, gasping horror overcame him, and he fainted. When the fresh air again revived him, Alfred was being led back by his tormentors towards their own quarters; the initiation of a boy who bore everything in silence, with firmly compressed lips, and pale, set features, was proving weari- some; the music of groans and entreaties for, mercy, was lacking, to delight the ears of these young barbarians, and stimulate them to fresh deeds of cruelty. But at the very last moment, when Alfied had almost run the gauntlet, and-won the peaceful goal of being left alone, he lost his temper to the astonishment of the crowd. The red-haired youth, Tom Graeme the ring- leader, was loth to give Alfred up so easily, and when! they returned with him to his rooms, Tom looked eagerly about for some crowning feat, with which to close the evening's amusement. Over the mantlepiece hung a fine photograph of Mr. Ford, handsomely framed, which the affectionate son naturally considered one of h The Brother Enters the World. 47 household gods. Tom Graeme glanced at it; he had not seen it before, and he noticed that Alfred's gaze followed him anxiously. "This must be our daddy," cried the young Vandal, and took the picture down from the wall, intending to knock it out of the frame. "What are you going to do with that pic- ture?" asked Alfred, quietly. "It will answer to light a pipe," replied the other tauntingly. Tom Graeme had no time to put his threat into execution. Alfred, with several rapid, well- directed blows, felled him to the ground. At that moment another person appeared on the threshold suddenly and noiselessly, and stood peering sharply into the room over the shoulders of the unconscious mischief-makers. "Who knocked that young man down?" said a sharp, clear voice. Dismay was depicted on every face, and even Tom Graeme scrambled up on his feet, rubbing his head in a bewildered way, at the sound of that familiar voice. It proceeded from a small, active old gentleman, wrapped in a dressing- page: 48-49[View Page 48-49] 48 What the World Made Them. gown, with a bandanna handkerchief comfortably tied over his bald head, and a wonderful fire of energetic life burning in his keen eyes. The students could scarcely refrain from laughing at his funny appearance, but the old President cared no more for their criticism on his personel, than he would have noticed the buzzing of a flight of gnats. The President was a most energetic old gentleman, and was never so well pleased as when scenting out some prank among his youthful flock, either pacing along corridors with cat-like tread, or pouncing suddenly upon a group of con- spirators, scattering them like frightened sheep; for he wisely concluded that if he constantly crushed evil in the bud, by unceasing activity, the thorns and thistles would still spring up and keep pace flourishingly with all his efforts. On the present evening, he had been roused by a mysterious tapping on his window, which was repeated until he raised the sash, and then he found: a slip of paper on the ledge, secured by a stone placed on it. The midnight visitor had vanished in the gloom. "What nonsense is this?" muttered the Pres- The Brother Enters the World. 49 ident, lighting a candle, putting on his spectacles, and reading: "They are half murdering a new boy from the left wing, to-night, by burying him alive." The President's eyes snapped, and he sallied forth to investigate. "Well, who has done this?" "I did, Sir," said Alfred, after a pause. The President scanned him from head to foot. Alfred's clothing clung to him, soiled, stained, and wet from frequent drenchings; his bare feet were wounded and torn by rough paths, and his hair matted with the scum of the pool. An expression of disgust crossed the Presi- dent's face, succeeded by one of severity. "Why did you do it?" "Because he was destroying my father's pic- ture." "Ah! he is a thief, then, and appropriates property which does not belong to him. Was that your only reason for striking him?" What a temptation to tell the President of what he had endured that night! Alfred looked at his tormentors, and then stooped to lift his 3 page: 50-51[View Page 50-51] 50 What the World Made Them. father's picture from the floor, where it had fallen in the struggle. "I have nothing more to say, Sir," and Alfred drew himself up with the consciousness that he was, even in his present dismal plight, a gentle- man. "You are a noble lad, and I am proud of you," said the President, to whom the thoughts of these young souls were transparently read- able from long experience, "Get to bed now." Then he turned to the others, dismissing them likewise, and all he' said was, with contemptuous emphasis: "One boy, helpless and unclothed, against a dozen! I congratulate you on your humility." Somehow the President's words left a sting of unpleasant suggestions, that rankled long after- ward. In those two sentences, accompanied by a searching look of his penetrating eyes, he had conveyed his opinion of them as cowards and bullies, indulging in the fools' play of children. The next morning, after chapel exercises, where Alfred's enemies appeared looking very sleepy and depressed, the President announced The Brother Enters the World. 51 his intention of breaking up the system of initiat- ing new students, and no one that ventured a glance at his stern old face, could doubt that he was terribly in earnest, and likely to keep his word. Alfred's troubles were not over, although he was not again openly attacked. First, an iron weight, suspended by a cord and lowered from above, swung with skillful precision against his windows, breaking every pane. Nor was he allowed to shelter himself from the snow storms of winter again, for as soon as the glass was replaced, it was again broken. If he tripped on the stairs over snares of twine, placed there for the purpose of dislocating his ankles; if he found pulverized sugar and cigar ashes strewn over his- carpets ; with stacks of pins bristling in the rugs; if his hat was invariably crushed in by a well- directed stone, when he went forth to church Sunday morning, or his spotless coat pelted with mud, he knew that Torn Graeme was still the motive power. Harold took up hiss quarters with his cousin, and assured him that they would find some new subject before long, and weary of him. page: 52-53[View Page 52-53] 52 What the World Made Them. This was indeed the case, but never during life did Alfred Ford forget the terror of that moment when the coffin lid closed upon him, and earth rattled above his head. c: The C. A. D. Society. 58 CHAPTER IV. THE C. A. D. SOCIETY. A LFRED FORD made the best resolutions when he entered college. He would study faithfully, and rank as high as his father had before him in these very halls. He would not learn to smoke, and he intended to keep account of every precious hour in the twenty-four. Ris- ing always at six, and after his usual cold bath, writing to father, or Marion, or if there was still time before breakfast, taking a walk in the early freshness of the morning. These rules Alfred pinned to the wall, so that his eye might rest on them the first object in awaking, but after a time he was ashamed to face what only served to remind him of his de- linquencies, and tore the paper down. Had he marked a faithful record, the tablet would have shown that he took just three early walks, that he was usually late to prayers in page: 54-55[View Page 54-55] 54 What the World Made Them. chapel, and that he very often threw on his clothes, hastily smoothing his hair withhis fin- gers while descending the stairs. As to studying, 'Alfred certainly began very well, partly because his original ambition had not flagged, and partly because he stood in sufficient awe of his instruc- tors, to prefer gliding along smoothly through a recitation, rather than receive any personal repri- mand for ignorance or inattention. It would- - have been a bitter portion indeed, to have been mocked as a stupid dunce, by water-throwing, mischief-plotting, stone-flinging Thomas Graeme, and his friends. One resolution Alfred did succeed in keeping, and that was never to assist in terrifying a new arrival, remembering his own experience too vividly. The two cousins were soon on the most amica- ble and intimate terms, having everything in common in Alfred's rooms, where Harold was thoroughly at home. The latter took the lead in most things, and Alfred followed, merry, light- hearted and careless. Harold, naturally selfish and artful, was able to acquire a great influence " The C. A. D. Society. 55 over his younger, companion, which was precisely what suited him best, as he incurred all manner of foolish expenses, extracted ,all the pleasure pos- sible, and then left Alfred to settle the bills. In this way it was almost incredible how much money Alfred Ford contrived to throw away in useless extravagance. His father did not permit him to keep a horse while in college, and the result was, that the best steeds in the town stables were usually engaged for the two lads. Then there were evening par- ties in their rooms, where it was considered to be so much more like grown men of the world, to waste the hours of night playing some wretched game of cards, interesting only because forbidden, than to enjoy sweet, refreshing sleep, even though the penalty should be to yawn over books next day, with dull brains and aching eyes. A variety of new caps must be indulged in, canes of all sizes, rainbow shades of gloves, while musical instruments were practised upon at un- seasonable hours, to the torture of every one. Especially did they delight in the clarion blast of horns, and the shrill wailing notes of the violin. page: 56-57[View Page 56-57] 56 What the World Made Them. At this period the two cousins found it agree- able to write a great many notes, sometimes in prose and occasionally in verse, (when their , Latin and Greek were apt to suffer) on delicate scented paper, which were left behind stone walls, and in the crevices of trees, for the delight- of young ladies; and as their attachments were : only of a fleeting nature, often changing, the amount of paper and valuable time consumedl, was very considerable i The ample income Mr. Ford allowed his son, - was soon found to be altogether'too small to meet the demands made upon Alfred's purse, thanks to master Harold's generous plans of amusement. "I must not spend so much," Alfred would i say, studying a column of figures jotted down on the back of an envelope, with puckered brow. "The long session isn't nearly out yet, and I haven't five dollars left."; "Send home for more," would be Harold's suggestion. I can't do that," Alfred would hesitate. ' My allowance ought to be sufficient." "Then you may as well give up trying to live : like a gentleman. . The C. A.. D. Society. 57 Harold's idea of being a gentleman, at that time, consisted in belonging to the " fast set" in College. What glory to tilt one's hat slightly on one side, to walk with an important swagger, and be pointed out as one of the wildest men in the class! Harold further told Alfred that it was not necessary for a rich man's son to study dili- gently, that might be left to poor students who could not enjoy youth as a holiday, because they had future bread to earn in the struggle of man- hood. Thus Alfred went on, ashamed to send home for larger supplies, yet getting hopelessly involved in debt, and in such few, ineffectual efforts as the weak, imprudent boy made to extri- cate himself, only becoming more inextricably en- tangled by some new project, some dazzling temptation held up by Harold. Mr. Ford waited with more disappointment and regret than he ever openly expressed, for good tidings- of Alfred's career. What if his son should come off first honor man, as he had done twenty-five years before, with a proud feeling at the moment that fame had nothing more to bestow! That was the picture Governor Ford -3* page: 58-59[View Page 58-59] 5,8 What the World Made Them. drew for his own imagination in the tranquil silence of his library; but unfortunately, any inquiries he made on the subject were received in embarrassed silence, or witl a half sulky "Every fellow cannot have the prize," and in this way Alfred made the fact still more positive that he certainly should not. What is the use of' 'all that work?" asked Harold, who never recited a perfect lesson, or lis- ; tened to a single lecture when he could help it, (as if he was injuring any one but himself!) "I mean to try, though," Alfred would ex- claim energetically, and for a week apply himself assiduously to the task, then gradually, almost im- perceptibly, the bright rainbow castle faded, as : the mountain mists dissolve in silvery rifts of vapor beneath the sun's warm rays. At length Mr. Ford did receive decisive tidings of Alfred, delivered reluctantly by that young gentleman in person. The night was dark and sultry, in early sum- mer, and everything appeared externally calm * within the college limits. Groups of students strolled indolently beneath the trees, mimicking The C. A. D. Society. 59 the tone and gestures of any professor they hap- pened to meet. "It's time ' old John' had that dog of his shaved, and painted green," said one. "Old John " was a learned professor of natu- ral science; a plump, rosy gentleman, whose com- panion, even in the lecture room, was a sedate, shaggy dog-a dog that jogged along minding his own business, and merely blinked a glance of scorn at all the snares which beset his canine path as a college dog. "Never trust a student," the professor's dog plainly said, and trotted on his way. "Does the C. A. D.'s meet to-night?" asked a tall student of a small one, pausing in the street. "Keep shady!" replied the smaller one. "There will be rough work to do," hinted the first speaker, darkly. "Now then, youngsters, move on, will you. The schoolmaster don't know you are out, I suspect." This last remark was addressed over his shoul- der to three younger boys, from a preparatory school, who were hovering near the students, lis- tening with respectful awe to their conversation. -'z page: 60-61[View Page 60-61] 60 What the WTorld Made Them. "Just wait till I get into College! I should like to thrash a few of 'er," said the oldest schoolboy wrathfully, but he did not make the remark until he was at a safe distance from his superiors. "What are the C. A. D.'s, Oliver?" won- dered the little boys. "You will find out soon enoughl, returned Oliver, who did not know himself, discovering, balm for wounded vanity in being able to reign over these juvenile subjects. Many of the inmates of the College were no wiser than the boys of the Edgewood School, as to the origin or movements of this secret society, and nothing gives greater zest to schoolroom curiosity than a little mystery. To organize a society in which the seal of secrecy was im- pressed on every lip, even though its proceedings should be totally insignificant, flashed through the brain of Harold Carlton. Ah! a capital idea. With what ardor did he rush into the new enterprise, dragging Alfred and many a hair-brained companion with him! With what imposing ceremonies were new mem- bers received into the confidence of C. A. D.! The C. A. D. Society. 61 The strongest nerves and stoutest hearts were startled by being led into the darkness of the chapel cellar, dazzled by sudden lights revealing a black-robed council, masked, and with pointed scarlet hoods drawn over their heads, then the lights would vanish, and the novitiate, guarded by two silent forms, would be addressed in a deep sepulchral voice: "Do you wish to become a member of the C. A. D.?" "If the President don't object." c"No joking allowed," reminded the body guard severely, pricking the prisoner on the shoulder sharply with some instrument which might have been a bayonet, or a pen-knife. "Are you prepared to obey the regulations of the society?" "Ye-es," rather doubtfully. Sometimes the questionings were interrupted by the sound of a passing footstep, which disturbed the dignity of the council somewhat, and when the new member was duly initiated, the body hastily tore off mask and cloak, ascending to the more congenial upper atmosphere. Harold, page: 62-63[View Page 62-63] 62 What the World Made Them. whose taste was sensational, flattered himself that in these ceremonies he had made a happy combi- nation of the fearful Vehmgericht, and what he imagined masonic mysteries might be. If this youthful leader happened to be unusually inatten- tive to his studies, and received a stern reproof for; his negligence, the next morning a placard would appear on the class-room door, with the alarming words: -"C. A. D. will not endure oppression!" It must be confessed that the pro- fessor usually treated such announcements with contempt, but a crowd of eager young faces would gather about the placard, trying to solve the riddle of the puzzling initals. "What does C. A. D. -mean?" "I guess it's Curious Active Donkeys." "Or Common American Democrats," sug- gested the president of a debating club, whose writings were usually of a political character. On the particular evening when the Edgewood boys had played eavesdroppers to the conversation of their betters, and got snubbed for their pains, C. A. D. was suspiciously quiet, the leaders, Harold and Alfred, having retired to their own The C. A. D. Society. 63 quarters at a surprisingly early hour. When the clock struck ten, several visitors departed from their door with many noisy adieus, considering that the parting was only for the night, and two hours later might have been seen stealing noise- lessly across the campus, dodging behind trees to escape notice, until they reached a large oak tree, where a cautious quail-like whistle announced their arrival. It was a supreme satisfaction to Alfred Ford, that Tom Graeme did not belong to this faithful band. Alfred was not of a grudging, revengeful disposition, and would have frankly forgiven his red-haired tormentor, had he been asked to do so; still, it was to carry out a prank of his own invention that the C. A. D. conspirators were gathered around the oak-tree rendezvous. Thomas Graeme lodged in a turret chamber of the stone tower, which flanked the main building on the left. What better fun could be indulged in than giv- ing him a good smoking? How? That has been planned too, for shapeless bundles moved towards the tower in procession, and from page: 64-65[View Page 64-65] " TWhat the World Made Them. beneath them, smothered voices whispered occa- sionally. "Is Al. mounting guard? "I hope so.' "Do you remember the time of the bonfire when I ran full tilt into the old gentleman, with an empty barrel?" "If he should be prowling around to-night! Whew!" Bundle after bundle vanished in the tower, then a tiny spark glittered at the entrance, and a bright thread of flame leaped and dazzled through the place. ' Fire! fire!" rang out on the night, and soon the whole college was in wild commotion, the alarm spreading even into the adjacent town, where an engine was dragged forth with great clamor of trumpets, and voices. Tom Graeme, cut off from escape by the stair- case, was seen rushing frantically about on the roof of the tower, declaring that the walls were growing hot, and he could not endure it much longer. "Close your door; the tower is all stone, and The C. A. D. Society. . 65 only the hay will burn," shouted a voice trom the surging crowd below. It was Alfred Ford, feeling that it would not be so much fun, after all, if Graeme, blind with terror, happened to do something desperate. Harold jerked his arm sharply; the old Presi- dent stood quietly at Alfred's other elbow. "If you are so mighty officious, we shall be suspected," he whispered. Humph! the workings of conscience," mut- tered the Presidentto himself; then he detained Alfred just as Harold attempted to drag him away from that vicinity. "Would you go up on a ladder, near enough to inform that young man that he is in no danger if he keeps quiet?" Alfred's eves fell beneath the old man's search- ing gaze, and it is a remarkable fact that Harold vanished as if by magic, while every member of the C. A. D. put as much space of ground between himself and Alfred as possible. Alfred reflected a moment then assented. "Come then," said the President briefly, and in the glare of the fire, with volumes of water page: 66-67[View Page 66-67] " What the WTorld Made Them. hissing through the air, Alfred Ford ascended to the lower roof of the main building to deliver the President's message. Every step that he took upward, convinced the foolish youth of his own cowardice in having left Thomas Graeme to suffer so much terror un- aided, instead of attempting to rescue him before. "It's poor comfort to talk to a man with the flames crackling below him, and tell him not to be afraid," reflected Alfred. "I'll get him down somehow. Hulloa, Graeme! ' "What! you have come up? But how am I to get down?" shouted the prisoner eagerly. Alfred3s heart smote-him; how could he tell the poor fellow that he was to hold on longer? Alfred stepped on the roof, and already felt the heat from the tower. Graeme was many feet above on the parapet of the tower, where he had retreated as the fire advanced, and now stood at bay. "Can't you get back to your room, and make a rope of the bedclothes?" asked Alfred. "It's awfully hot down there; everything seems like a glowing coal." The C. A. D. Society. 67 "Pooh! it's only hay and straw, the walls can't burn, you know." "But my door is wood, and the window is the other side from you." Alfred disappeared, and the President below regretted having sent him on the perilous errand, when it was too late. "Don't throw yourself overboard, until I get you down!" cried Alfred, and went straight to the wall of the burning tower, with Tom peering over anxiously to watch his movements. Suddenly the boy above exclaimed, ' Don't try that! are you mad?" But Alfred had already crept down to the gut- ter, keeping his eyes fixed steadily on a certain point to prevent himself from turning giddy, and found his way into one of the narrow openings which served to light the tower. "It isn't large enough for my body to pass through; I shall roast when the fire comes up," thought the boy who had lighted the cruel flames which were raging so near him now. He thrust in his head and shoulders cautiously, then per- sistently pressed his way through the narrow page: 68-69[View Page 68-69] 68 What the World Made Them. space. Tom Graeme could never have effected the passage, and the additional weight of a few pounds even, would have rendered the feat im- possible. He stood .on the staircase, and for a moment gazed down into the depths of blinding smoke and glowing heat. Were the flames dying into smouldering coals, or still climbing up? Could he endure the fierce heat sufficiently long to reach Tom's room, two steps lower down? He must risk the chance. He darted forward to meet the fire in reality, burst open the door and looked hastily around the chamber. It was the work of an instant to drag the covering from the bed, but even before Alfred had done it, a black puff of smoke rolled past the door up the stairway, a red tongue began to shoot and twine about the lintel. The quickly kindled, intense conflagration of the burning hay and straw had nearly spent its force, when a sud- den gust of wind bore the fitful' flicker up still higher to blacken the wood on Tom Graeme's door. The C. A. D. Society, 69 Alfred Ford was very near facing death at that moment, but he quietly dipped his handkerchief in the water jug, spreading it over his head to shield him from the smoke, gathered up the bed- clothes and fought his way upward to the roof. Closing the trapdoor of the entrance to baffle the destroyer for a time, the two lads tore the linen into strips, and knotted it firmly together. "Who first?"Tom's eyes questioned rather than his lips. ' You," said Alfred promptly. "I shouldn't rest in my grave if you were left last." Then as the other hesitated generously, possi- bly wondering at the strange speech, he fastened the rope around Tom, who slid, over the edge, and was lowered safely the short distance to the roof. How precious life looked then! Alfred drew up the cord, wound one end about a projecting corner, seized the other, and lowered himself over the brink, just as a lurid glare above announced to the alarmed spectators that the fire had rushed up after the fugitives through the wooden trap- door. For an instant of agonizing suspense Alfred hung supported by the slender line of page: 70-71[View Page 70-71] 70 What the World Made Them. knotted sheet, then he fell heavily into Tom Graeme's muscular arms, which were outstretched to receive him. The fire had scorched and sev- ered the rope above, creeping down the airy bridge as if in search of further destruction. Quickly the two hurled it over, and away sailed the fiery banner among the tree tops, to be finally quenched in darkness. Down the ladder came Tom Graeme, looking startled and bewildered, and when he had reached the ground, Alfred Ford followed, receiving the warm- congratulations of every one quietly,-a little impatiently,--glad to finally escape notice altogether when the danger was found to be over. C. A. D. uttered no word of praise, however, but held entirely aloof from this black sheep, who had done bravely to rescue Graeme, particularly when he seemed likely to burn up in good ear- nest, but on whom the President's eye was fixed. After all, who would have thought that a few bundles of straw and hay, placed in a stone building, could have made such a stir; keeping every professor out' of his bed, and the whole town in an uproar? Next day the President in public asked Harold The C. A. D. Society. 71 Carlton point blank, if he had anything to do with setting the tower on fire. ," No," replied the founder of C. A. D., mak- ing it evident that truthfulness was not one of the qualifications necessary in that influential body. Several others were questioned in a similar manner, and finally the old gentleman pounced on Alfred Ford, which had been his original pur- pose all the while. A deep flush crimsoned Alfred's face at Harold's treachery and deceit. Should he deliberately tell a fib-be stamped as a liar in the very college where his father had graduated with honor? A galvanic thrill of apprehension vibrated through C. A. D. as if the whole society had but one nervous system, when Alfred's reply came:- "Yes, sir. I did it." "Was it your intention to murder Thomas Graeme by kindling a fire beneath him?" inquir- ed the President, with a darkening frown gather- ing on his brow. "Follow me to my study." A whisper ran around through the limits of C. A. D. as Alfred obeyed the summons: ' Now he will peach on the rest of us." page: 72-73[View Page 72-73] 72 What the World Made Them. Tom Graeme was amazed beyond measure. "But you rescued me!" he exclaimed to Alfred. "You seem to forget my initiation," added Alfred smiling. 'It's all right now, though, and I hope you wont get into trouble for this scrape," said Tom heartily, extending his hand, which Alfred cor- dially grasped, and went on thinking that Tom Graeme was not such a bad fellow after all. Alfred Ford implicated nobody by his state- ment made in the President's study, and C. A. D. drew a long breath of relief when this was found to be the case. "You behaved like a brick not to tell of us," said Harold. ' I am not a liar, at all events," said Alfred bluntly. Alfred Ford was "suspended," and he went home feeling the deeper humiliation of disgrace, because he must communicate the. tidings to his father. If he could only turn backward, and gather the spilled drops into the crystal flagon again, which had been wasted wilfully on the barren ground! The Sister Enters the Worldg 73 CHAPTER V. THE SISTER ENTERS THE WORLD. AUNT MAUD had selected one of the very best city schools for Marion. According to Aunt Maud's opinion, no young lady could be subjected to such genteel, elegant influences elsewhere, as in Madame Latour's establishment, and Marion needed polishing very much indeed. The school was not one of those huge colleges, with towers and chapel, library and observatory of imposing dimensions, whose, wide doors daily seem to engulf hundreds of pupils; or one of those surburban retreats with shady grounds, and a pleasant glimpse of open country beyond. Madame Letour's school was a beauti- fully gilded cage of learning, very attractive to many parents on that account. It had once been the residence of a poultry dealer, who had lavished every possible decoration in fresco, marble and carving, on the interior; 4 page: 74-75[View Page 74-75] 74 What the World Made Them. then the wheel of fortune turning suddenly, the poulterer had gone down, and the house was appropriated to its present use. The pupils were taught to glide gracefully through the tesselated halls, to control all undignified emotions, to descend from a carriage elegantly, to say their prayers even, in French, although their English, often, was most defective. The foundation of the educational structure was frequently sadly'incom- plete, but they were led high flights in the sciences; dashing bravura and galop were taught by foreign professors, on pearl inlaid grand pianos; gentle admonitions as to the errors of wearing thin boots, we're received from a distin- guished physiologist; and then they studied in bowers of roses, scantily furnished, but with pink cherubs entwined in the flower garlands of the ceilings. There were long dormitories, which reminded one of hospital' wards, where rules of rigid discipline were maintained, even to regulating the number of visits that a new pupil should pay to her trunks, before her wardrobe was finally con- signed to the care of a teacher. The Sister Enters the World. 75 To this cage, none the less a prison because handsome and spacious, Marion Ford was brought by Aunt Maud, and ushered into the reception room. Marion's eyes roved curiously about the apartment, stately enough, with an archway sup- ported by carved pillars, glittering chandeliers, a harp in one corner, and the walls exquisitely paneled in green and gold, but the carpet and curtains looked faded in the bright sunlight. Madame sailed in, blandly superior in bearing, listened politely to Aunt Maud's conversation, then handed Marion over to a meek, pale teacher, who looked as if her head always ached. "You speak French already, of course?" Madame said. "I have studied it a little, but I hate the verbs," replied Marion frankly. Then she was led away by the meek teacher, and showed which bed in the long dormitory belonged to her, which basin with a mirror above it, in the adjoining bath-room might be considered her own, and which closet in the range of small doors could receive her wearing apparel. Marion looked about her in silent dismay, and page: 76-77[View Page 76-77] 76 What the World Made Them. as she was not accustomed to keeping quiet very long, she said aloud, "It's just like the prisons and charity schools." "Oh! very foreign, you know, and Madame must have everything foreign," said a girl, who was looking at her reflected image in the glass with great interest, and arranging a small pink bow over the left ear. "11 faut parler francais maintenant," said the teacher. "Which means ' hold your tongue, " mut- tered the girl at the mirror, sullenly. But I can't really talk," said Marion. "How shall I ever get along, and make myself understood?" "You must; it is the language of the school," replied the teacher, firmly. "Don't try,' whispered the stranger girl, settling her cuffs and trinkets. "Be deaf and dumb like me." Afterward the teacher told Marion that the lunch bell would ring in an hour, and the new scholar was left to her own reflections. Marion smoothed her wild mane of crimped hair, wonder- The Sister Enters the World. " ing if her future companions would be nice, and then she returned to the dressing-room for a fresh pocket-handkerchief and collar, in which to make her first appearance. To her dismay she found the keys of trunks and wardrobe removed. She peeped out of the door to call for assist- ance, and the spacious hall rising to a dome, with the corridors of successive stories protected by gilded railings, seemed to her very like a small theatre. Young girls flitted about below, but Marion felt too shy in a strange place to venture near them, with that terrible seal of silence or speaking French, mnaking her dumb, so she retreated into the dormitory, and seated herself on the edge of her bed with a rather doleful appear- ance. "I shall not go down stairs until I have a clean collar," said Governor Ford's daughter, looking a little sulky. What did they mean locking up her things, and leaving her alone? Marion was very much surprised at the lack of attention. She was about to learn the bitter but wholesome lesson, that having stepped out of her small kingdom where page: 78-79[View Page 78-79] 78 What the llWorld Made Thlem. Mr. Ford only smiled indulgently at her whims, and every one else yielded to her idlest caprice, she was of no more importance than her school- mates. After all, had not- Aunt Maud shown some wisdom in urging a change? In the meanwhile the machinery of Madame Latour's establishment worked on smoothly, classes forming and dissolving, teachers coming and going, all unconscious of Miss Ford's dis- pleasure above stairs. Madame had sailed off on some new duty, the meek-faced teacher was engaged in a recitation, and had forgotten- actually forgotten-the new pupil. Presently a fat girl carrying some exercise books, came into the room. "Am I to wait here all day?" inquired Marion with dignity. "I don't know, I am sure," said the fat girl calmly. "I shall not go to lunch until I can get to my trunks," said Marion triumphantly. The fat girl, strangely enough, did not seem much affected by this announcement, but pre- pared to again depart, when the sight of Marion's The Sister Enters the World. 79 forlorn, lonely figure, appealed to her good nature sufficiently to make her turn back. -"Where did you come from?" "Don't you know my papa?" inquired Marion, elevating her eyebrows; for this loyal little daughter considered her father the greatest man in existence. "No," said the fat girl, a smile dimpling her fair face, "Do you know mine?" Marion felt a trifle confused and guilty at her own ignorance of the fat girl's parents. "I never saw you before," she said. "And I never saw you before." Then' the two scholars laughed merrily, and were good friends directly. "It seems strange that you don't know my papa, though; I supposed every one did," added Marion, with unconscious vanity. "Gracious! is he the President of the United States? No? Then I daresay there are plenty of people who don't know he is in the world," said the fat girl with mild sarcasm. "Had you not better come down with me in a soiled collar, rather than lose your lunch?" she suggested, page: 80-81[View Page 80-81] 80 What the World Made Them. and indeed her own plump cheeks looked as if she seldom missed a meal. Offended dignity was all very well, but Marion was hungry, and gladly followed her new friend. At lunch, where a great many curious glances were directed towards the stranger with the round-eyed, pitiless stare of school-girls, Marion -whose chatter usually enlivened the dinner- table at home-might have served as a model for the statue of silence, for the pupils were only per- mitted to talk in French, and she forgot the names of things, or was afraid to form a sentence for fear it should be incorrect. Once the teacher at the head of the table addressed her, and poor Marion, turning all shades of red in her embarrassment, could not possibly decide whether the teacher commented on her soiled collar, of which she was painfully conscious, or asked her to be helped to more beef. The language of polite society was of so much more importance in Madame Latour's school, than poor, despised English, that the native tongue was thrust into obscurity, or negligently slurred over at the best. What did it matter that the English The Sister Enters the World. 81 letters of' her finished pupils, might have slamed a schoolboy of ten years, if their accent was pure and they could write charming little French notes to their parents, many of whom did not under- stand one word of their contents, but were none the less proud of an accomplishment which made their own children their superiors? Marion Ford entered upon her school career with the conviction tlat she did not like it. Tile confined atmosphere of the schoolroom made ler head ache, the formal walk around a certain limit of squares soon grew wearisome. Worst of all, perhaps the varied and rich dress of her companions made the girl dissatisfied with her own attire, for Madame's pupils wore delicate silks and muslins, laces and jewelry to be stained with ink, or soiled at the blackboard, witl a flaunting ostentation that evinced their own vul- garity, and excited the envy of those less fortu- nate in watches and bracelets. Sometimes Miss Flutter-a day scholar-appeared late at school, with 'her head a perfect wilderness, mountain peaks of curls rising erratically here and there, with intervening valleys of braid; ,.nd her poor, 4* page: 82-83[View Page 82-83] 82 What the World Made Them. ill-developed forehead screened by a curtain of frizzled locks. Any sympathy would have been wasted on Miss Flutter; she looked the fright she was on purpose, and all her intimate friends imitated her in a new style, as soon as they could repair to the hairshop. Sometimes Miss Sapphire, who carried herself to the admiration of Madame, floated in, clad in a lovely blue silk, trimmed so elaborately that it occupied fully an hour for those in her vicinity to count the flounces, and trace the trimmings over the skirt, so as to tease mamma when they went home, for one just like it. Miss Sapphire did not study much; her belt was so tight she could scarcely breathe, but she basked in the admiration she created. Marion had not slept in the dormitory but two nights, where she was absolutely without privacy, and where one mischievous girl could easily keep forty awake, before she resolved to run away home to tell papa her grievances. She put her purse in her pocket, being a practical young lady, and having managed to smuggle an The Sister Enters the World. 83 old hat and shawl under her bed the previous night, put these articles on, and silently watched her opportunity to reach the front door unper- ceived. Unfortunately Madame was on the step coming in, just at the moment Marion attempted to go out, and detained her. "Where are you going?" very severely. "Home," pouted Marion. "You cannot be permitted," said Madame quietly. Then Mr. Ford's daughter, who had enjoyed the prospect of flight back to her dear home, with a spice of danger in the journey taken alone, gave way to a very naughty outhreak of passion- ate tears, after which she was delivered into the custody of the meek-faced teacher. X page: 84-85[View Page 84-85] 84 What the World Made Them. CHAPTER VI. MARION WINS A PRIZE. M/[ARION did not run away again, and at the expiration of two years' time was quite con- tented in school. In study Marion had made no more progress than Alfred. Not that she was subjected to the influence of any companion, who, like Harold Carlton, assured her it was entirely unnecessary for a rich girl to study; or that she felt the same indifference to any one pursuit of knowledge, whic chharacterised her brother's course through college. Marion had the most surprising amount of energy and enterprise in everything. She rushed ardently into the study of German, but instead of conquering that difficult language, she was conquered and pettishy turned aside from the wearisome task. Next she tried vocal prac- tice only to seek relief, after the mortification of having her voice die away in a frightened, dis- Marion Wins a Prize. 85 cordant wail, at an evening reception in Madame's parlor, in the sounds her fingers pro- duced wandering helplessly ovar the piano keys, under the guidance of the German music master, whose sensitive ear was tortured by Marion's crashing discords, while his features expressed no encouragement, but rather the blankness of despair. Marion concluded that her talent was not musical, and entered the department of fine arts. There was a picture gallery attached to Madame's school, where the young ladies enjoyed the advantage of studying from the paintings with which the late rich man had adorned his walls. Madame called them all works of the ' old mas- ters," which naturally increased their value in the public estimation; otherwise the smoke dark- ened, time faded outline of landscapes, and heavy angels resting on lurid clouds, would have possessed no attraction. Marion's enthusiasm reached the highest pitch when she was permitted to have an easel to herself, wear a linen blouse and splash paint vigorously on a large canvas. Miss Penniman directed the labors of these page: 86-87[View Page 86-87] 86 What the TWorld Made Them. young ^aspjrants for fame, and often sighed regretfully when she saw them faithfully copying some gaudy sunset which rivalled the fiery splen- dor of the volcano, that she was not permitted to select subjects for their labors. Madame Latour, however, held firmly to the opinion that her picture gallery contained all the materials necessary; possibly the " old masters" might suffer by comparison with the pictures Miss Penniman would like to introduce; so Miss Pen- niman having bread to earn, plodded on day after day, obeying orders, and Marion progressed gloriously; vibrating between the extremes, now touching up the most blooming, verdant land- scape, now coloring a life size head with the warmest flesh tints. Her eye sparkled and she seemed to nod her head with gay, youthful confi- dence at the world, as much as to say: "-Now I have discovered my talent!" Suddenly this progress received a check; Marion's easel stood vacant, and her palette remained a polished blank of wood, where rain- bow hues of paint were usually lavishy smeared. Miss Penniman wondered. Marion Wins a Prize. 87 "The child was so much interested that I hoped she would make something of an artist." Instead, Marion had decided to turn authoress. A group of girls were seated in the schoolroom after study hours, eating candy and discussing a very grave matter, indeed. "Any one can try, you know," said Marion Ford. "Do you intend to?" asked a pale girl with flaxen hair, who used an eye glass, and was fond of poetry. "1 have never thought of it," said Marion, opening her eyes very wide at the suggestion. "My compositions are always pulled to pieces worse than any other girl's in school, I do believe." "Not more than mine," groaned the next pupil; " she always finds so many misspelled words, and requests me to write them on the blackboard to be laughed at. Just as if one could find time to study the English dictionary, when Mademoiselle gives such awfully hard translations." Madame Latour proposed creating a little page: 88-89[View Page 88-89] 88 What the World Made Them. excitement in her school, by giving a prize for the best written story in prose or verse, that could be produced at the approaching Examination Day. The flame of ambition was kindled in many a youthful breast. Miss Mary Hooper, the pale young lady, was observed to cast her eyes up to the ceiling frequently, and those sufficiently near could hear her lips murmur " skies, flies, dies," or 4 despair, beware, forbear," while a bit of paper was often drawn from her pocket to write down the fleeting rhyme before it escaped her grasp altogether. Other girls looked absorbed and even gloomy at times, as if their ideas did not flow as freely as could be desired, but the school held a general opinion that Miss Hooper would win eventually. Marion Ford dropped her paint brushes, with the nose of Beatrice Cenci half finished, and might have been frequently seen by those inter- ested in her movements, seated in the window with her hand supporting her chin, gazing into vacancy. Marion was digesting a great idra. Never mind her other duties now! She had once read (in the back of an almanac) a thrilling Marion Wins a Prize. 89 story of a white child captured by Indians, in the early days of the country, and afterward taught by a good missionary such lessons as he could impart from the world of nature around. "The white captive," as Marion remembered the tale, was to have become the bride of a savage chief, when she calculated and foretold an eclipse, which actually occurring at the right moment, the lovely heroine escaped to the summit of a rocky promontory, and was about to-leap into the foam- ing torrent below, when the good missionary returned, accompanied by her parents, and rescued her from a frightful death. Marion firmly determined to hurl the " white captive" over the precipice, and make a tragical end to the story, instead of having so tame a finale as the good missionary's reappearance on the scene. This was not all, however; she intended to write the story in the French language, and cer- tainly Madame Latour's pupils should have been better prepared to compose in that tongue than their own, if total neglect of the one, and con- stant study of the other could qualify them for the task. Marion worked while the interest page: 90-91[View Page 90-91] 90 What the NWorld Made Them. lasted, with her usual impetuosity, and when the Examination Day arrived, the prize-a handsome book-was presented to her. Marion felt very grand and triumphant, and flew to her writing desk to inform her father and Alfred of her success, by the next post. Miss Hooper, the poetess, fainted in a becoming atti- tude, and was carried down from the platform a bundle of white muslin, clutching her neglected poem in one hand. The poem was good, and many of the stories far surpassed Marion's hack- neyed tale, but she had clothed her thoughts in a French dress. What would you have? That pleased every one amazingly, and " to the victor belong the spoils." "May has won a prize," said Alfred, reading an open letter. "More than I have done!" 4' What is it to win a girl's prize?" sneered Harold. But Alfred thought that unfair. "It was all there was to win, and Puss got it. You and I are hardly likely to do more than that, Harold." Harold, the Bad Angel. 91 CHAPTER VII. HAROLD, THE BAD ANGEL. ; IT is so nice, that your dear mother left that place to you children." ' But papa has made it beautiful." "Your mother took the country property, while I had the city house, and as you say, your father has improved it so greatly, that its value is fir above mine now." The younger lady glanced at the clock, and moved restlessly to the window. "Isn't it almost time for the train? I believe I will put on my hat, and run up to the d6pot." "My dear child! dressed as you are, and at this hour? The room was small, and well furnished, but in all the appointments there was a fictitious glitter, a certain trick of effect rather than solid value, characteristic of Aunt Maud, who preferred to live in a narrow slice of a house, located in a page: 92-93[View Page 92-93] 92 What the World Made Them. fashionable neighborhood, to a palace in some old portion of the city, which the gay butterfly flight of fashion had deserted. Aunt Maud herself was what is termed a "society woman." She always had the appearance of some stately ship under full sail, for her amber and purple satins flowed around her, flowers and feathers waved above bonnets, and laces clung in festoons to every available portion of her person. She was popular, brilliant il con- versation, and at her receptions was fond of gath- ering distinguished foreigners, artists, and officers of both services, for Aunt Maud was a general's widow, and would have liked Harold also to wear a uniform, which would have been so becoming to him, only the dear boy preferred doing nothing. Master Harold had not been dressed in white, and kept in the parlor, to have his big black eyes admired as a baby; or followed the bent of his own inclinations; good or bad, as a bold, imperti- nent boy, without taking upon himself the respon- sibility of deciding on his own future career. ( I don't see much fun in being poked off in a fort on the plains, or down in Texas, for the honor of wearing some gold lace," said Harold, at the Z Hatrold, the Bad Angel. 93 age of fifteen, assuming the tone of perfect equal- ity in talking to his mother, with the advantage on his side of a slight superiority in wisdom. "But you will always be associated with gentle- men in the army, my love," remonstrated the mother. "Bother the gentlemen I I don't mind going through college." So Harold had his own way, and went through college with great advantage both to himself, and to Alfred Ford, as we have already seen. Aunt Maud, seated in a broad velvet arm-chair, with her robes sweeping around her to the distance of several yards, awaiting the arrival of her guests, looked at the girl in the window with great satisfaction. Marion Ford, fresh from Madame Latour's school, was not at all the natural, wayward child, who had carried her bird-cage to Miss Mittey; but in Aunt Maud's eyes was a very pretty young lady, richly dressed, with her hair screwed up properly, and mindful of her complexion-from which country roses had given place to an un- healthy pallor-and polished in manners. An im- page: 94-95[View Page 94-95] " What the World Made Them. pulsive temperament, and frankness of character, Madame's system had not wholly repressed ; but the close application, improper diet, and lack of exercise, had accomplished all that could be de- sired, giving Marion a delicacy of appearance common among American girls. It must be confessed that Marion did not return the affection that Aunt Maud lavisled freely on ler niece. This wa-s very ungrateful, and Marion realized such to be the case, ller aunt did so much for her comfort and pleasure ; still, the young girl never quite forgot an occasion when she had heard Mrs. Carlton plucking a lady friend to pieces like a rose, and then went to welcome the same person with an excessive warmntl of cordiality. "I thought you disliked her," said Marion. "Oh no! I don't dislike. anybody, child, but we all have our failings," said Aunt Maud, and the clear, honest gaze of Marion's young eyes seemed, for a moment, to bring a deeper flush to the unvarying damask rose bloom of the elder lady's cheeks*, Marion did not like the revelation, though. lf Aunt Maud talks so about one of her Harold, the Bad Angel. 95 dearest friends, she will about anybody else," she reasoned, and began to consider the caresses and sweet endearments Aunt Maud lavished on society generally, merely a lmask assumed for the ocCasion. There was a thoughtful calculation in Mrs. Carlton's eyes, as she looked at her unconscious niece, of which the young lady was ignorant, for although the frivolous aunt's nature was like the broad, shallow lake surface, reflecting a dazzling glow of sunshine with no deep, swift undercur- rents of courageous purpose, she had some depths too, and one was match-making. Yes, aunt Maud was a famous match-maker, and a great favorite on that account. The plan that now occupied her brain was to have Harold and Marion like each other; no difficult matter for any girl to like her son, the proud mother thought, and then the prettiest picture arose before her imagillation of a wedding ceremony in church, with the light from the painted windows shedding a radiance over the bride's white draperies; after which she dwelt complacently on Marion's trousseau, the caskets and jewel-cases, the snowy lace and transparent fabrics whch she would personally select. page: 96-97[View Page 96-97] 96 What the World Made Them. "There are the boys!" cried Marion from her post of observation at the window, and Mrs. Carlton started from her reverie to welcome the returned collegians. A rattling of carriage wheels, numerous orders delivered in Harold's imperious tones, and the two cousins entered the room. Aunt Maud thought Alfred rather a common-looking young man, compared to her graceful, brilliant son, whose slender form and regular features were perfection in her estimation; but Marion greeted lier brother with an extravagance of affection of which Madame Latour would not have approved, and which embarrassed Alfred-scarcely estab- lished in manly dignity-somewhat; although he was glad to see his little sister,--glad as became a graduate with some promise of a coming mous- tache,-with Harold's eye on him, watching the greeting curiously. "Am I expected to recognise this young lady as my little cousin?" asked Harold, with a glance of admiration. Marion blushed and smiled in reply, while Aunt Maud, following out her pre- vious train of reflection, thought how well matched for height the two young people were. Harold, the Bad Angel. 97 Suddenly Marion's face clouded. It was all very well to have the two young men return, but Mr. Ford had promised to be there too. ' I think papa might have come," said the daughter. "He has been detained, Pussy, and we shall go to him'soon," returned the more reasonable son. 1 ' Perhaps he will be here to-morrow," sug- gested Harold. Mr. Ford did not come, and Marion, whose chief interest was always her father, looked dis- appointed not to find a letter explaining his absence, in the morning. A few hours later the two gentlemen, with the smallest of canes, and gloves which had the san- guinary appearance of having been dipped in the blood of their enemies, sallied forth " to see the town " as Harold said, with a sly wink at Alfred. Marion followed her brother to the door wistfillly. "If anything was the matter at home, we should have been sent for, shouldn't we?" Alfred looked startled for a moment, and paused. 5 page: 98-99[View Page 98-99] 98 What the W 4borld Made Them. "Of course you would," said Harold half impatiently. Come along, Alfred." And Alfred, on whose broad shoulders care of any sort rested very lightly, departed. Reassured, Marion took up her work -a square of canvas with flowers embroidered on it, which would never be completed, but which was a far more genteel employment for a rich young lady than doing anything useful. She sorted her worsted and sewed a dozen stitches, then threw it aside to run upstairs and write a letter full of loving reproaches and petulant scoldings to the naughty papa. Having sealed the letter, Marion went out with Aunt Maud on a shopping expedition, and for a time forgot her anxiety about her absent father. The day passed on, and the two young men did not return. "Very likely Harold has met some old friends," said Aunt Maud, who was very much absorbed in arraying herself for a dinner-party, and wondering if it looked too juvenile to wear violets. After Mrs. Carlton had gone, and the house Harold, the Bad Angel. 99 had subsided into quiet, Marion took a book, fell asleep over it, and dreamed that her home was on fire,-she could see the flames streaming from the upper windows. When she opened her eyes again old Micllael, in his best coat and a broad felt hat, stood before her. Marion looked at the familiar old face, weather-bronzed and wrinkled--dreamily, believ- ing herself to be still asleep. "They told me to come in here," said Michael, nodding in the direction of the door. "Where's papa?" cried Marion springing up in alarm. "He is home," said Michael, reassuringly. "Don't be scared, child; he don't know I'm here at all." "What is it then?" "Well!" said Michael, clearing his throat nervously, "the governor aint so well as com- mon; he did have a poor turn, and-I thought I'd just tell you an' Alfred myself, all quiet." "He's dying, I know!" sobbed Marion, cow- ering back in her chair, and covering her face with her hands. page: 100-101[View Page 100-101] 100 What the World Made Them. "No he aint, nuther," protested Michael stoutly. "No such thing! I only came because --I--well, ye might as well be there as here, this warm weather, and the flowers are coming on beautiful. Wouldn't ye like to see the new green-house?" Marion checked her tears. Matters might not be so bad after all. "I never heard of the new green-house." Michael chuckled: "That was a surprise, my dearie, and I have been and told like an old fool," then after a pause, "Is Alfied here?" "We will find him," said Marion. How was it to be accomplished? Mrs. Carlton was absent, and Harold had not troubled himself to announce where he was likely to go in the evening. Marion thought it probable that the two young men had visited some place of amusement, and her haste to find her brother was only increased by Michael's evident alacrity to accompany her in the search. "No one knows what may happen," mur- HT old, the Bad Angel. 101 mured the faithful old man when Marion had gone to prepare for the walk. "I don't know at all where to go," she said, appearing again with her dress entirely concealed by a long black cloak. "We can try the theatres, though." So this old man and girl started forth together -to explore the darkness of a great city, without exchanging a word as they hurried along. The clock in a church tower tolled the hour of ten, and the grey church, silent and stern, seemed to wrap itself in a shadow mantle, amidst so much light, pointing a slender spire heavenward. "That's a pretty bit of ivy, but a little pruning wouldn't hurt it," said Michael, looking at the church wall. At last they came to the wide entrance of a handsome building, where a few cabmen lounged in the lobby awaiting the dismissal of the audience. This was the Opera House, where Marion had once been with Aunt Maud, beautifully dressed, to hear a famous singer, and now she hurried through the wide entrance hall followed by Mi- chael, hoping that no one would recognize her. page: 102-103[View Page 102-103] 102 What the World Made Them. Marion peeped in the door leading to the interior, brilliant with light and gilded ornamentation, and eagerly scanned the multitude of faces rising tier above tier to the ceiling, with its dazzling chande- lier, like a rose-tinted cone of crystal splendor. Marion saw old faces, weary and dissatisfied with .tinsel pleasure, and young faces, delighted with the tawdry sparkle of the stage, but she looked in vain for those she sought, and was obliged to turn away with a sigh of disappoint- ment. Next she directed their steps towards a popular theatre, where bold, evil-looking men clustered about the entrance in an atmosphere of rank tobacco smoke, and stared at Marion so impudent- ly as she passed, that the young girl involuntarily shrank closer to Michael's side, while he grasped the stout cudgel in his hand still more firmly. Again they gazed in upon a scene of tempting brilliancy, only a sickening disgust crept over Marion, that paltry nonsense like this should de- tain Alfred, when he was needed at home-how much needed she dared not think, for Michael's replies were all evasive, in his evident desire not to frighten her. Harold, the Bad Angel. . 103 "We will try one more place," said Marion, beginning to feel the search hopeless. The third theatre was at a considerable distance, and the clocks again struck the hour before they reached the place, only to find the pleasure seekers pouring fboth in crowds, and the lights twinklincr out one by one, leavihg the theatre a vast dark cavern of hushed gloom. "I don't know any other place to go," said Marion, pausing. She was ignorant that fashionable young men might as readily, have been found in some low concert saloon, polluted with whiskey and coarse associates, or negro minstrel hall, as in the higher grade of places of amusement. The two cousins may have been on the stage of the Opera House, at the very moment when Marion's anxious gaze was directed towards it, disguised in pasteboard helmet and cloak, serving. in some dreary proces- sion of an imaginary king, simply because the prank amused them, giving them access to traps and machinery, the ugly inner side of the painted exterior, which enchanted at a safe distance. ' Now, Micllael, do tell me the truth," inplored page: 104-105[View Page 104-105] 104 -What the World Made Them. Marion, shaking the old man by the arm a trifle impatiently. " Well! it ain't so much to tell, only the gov- ernor had a sort of a queerish turn after bein' out in the sun. We were trying the new verbenas in groups, you know. The doctor said it might be a conjecture of the head, or somethin'. That's all." The street was growing quiet and dark, even the theatre like a great, glowing, evil eye, was extinguished, but the restaurant beyond was bright with life, and gay with laughter. What made the sister pause outside the threshold? She thought she heard a familiar voice. Hark! there it was again, in loud, discordant laughter. Marion's face turned as white as the marble pave- ment beneath her feet, as she listened. "They are here," she said.; then the old man and the girl looked at. each other steadily for a moment. Harold and Alfred had enjoyed a very gay day in the character of men about town. They had driven and walked in the gay thoroughfares; and then they had dined at a club with one of Harold, the Bad. Angel. 105 Harold's friends, where they showed their manli- ness by drinking a great deal more wine than was good for them. Afterward Alfred,-who had a dread of being laughed at if he neglected to do everything that his companions did-panted for the relief of rushing into the cool freshness of the outer air, for his head had an odd sensation of lightness, as if he was walking upon undulating clouds instead of the firm pavement; his pulse throbbed feverishy, and a confused blending of colors and faces seemed to pass in endless proces- sion before his eyes, which he dreaded to close for fear of plunging headlong down into some fright- ful abyss. He was vaguely conscious of rambling from place to place; of being suffocated in surging crowds of people, and dazzled by the glitter of myriads of lights; of trying vainly to steady the thick utterance of his tongue; but the sparkling champagne remained untasted before him in the restaurant. Suddenly a girl stood beside him, and touching him on the shoulder, said briefly:- "Come!" If she had risen through the floor, or dropped 5* page: 106-107[View Page 106-107] 106 What the World Made Them. from the ceiling, the young men could not have been more astonished. A more pitiable, debased picture than that presented to Marion could not well be imagined. The friend's fair face was deeply flushed, and he in a mood of excited, foolish hilarity, while Alfred-confused, and giddy -looked at his sister with a dull, leaden stare, verging on idiocy. Was this stupid, blank face, from which every trace of reason seemed to have fled,-leaving only the coarse impress of drunken- ness stamped on the feetures,-her merry, good- natured brother? It seemed to Marion that she saw some hideous mask of evil, a horrible phantom of what Alfred might become, when pausing on the remote brink of future ruin. As for Harold,-the bad angel who had pre- sided over the feast,-his cool, clear-headed con- dition told a sadder tale, could Aunt Maud have glanced in the door, than: Alfred's helpless condi- tion; for Harold's composure evinced habitual drinking in a youth of one and twenty. The sister's sorrow and humiliation in Alfred's disgraceful condition, took the form of protective Harold, the Bad Angel. 107 pity, but all the more intense was her passionate resentment towards Harold for leading Alfred into temptation. "We were just going home; I don't think Alfred is quite well," said Harold rising; and indeed he disliked the conspicuous position they now occupied in the crowded restaurant, with people at the little tables glancing around at the group, and waiters staring with lively interest. "He is drunk, and you know it," said Marion, in a low, trembling voice, for she seldom minced matters, but usually spoke the truth. Harold felt a trifle ashamed, and would have assisted the uncertain steps of his cousin to the door, had not old Michael-whose face was as grave as if carved out of granite, although he had not spoken a single word-placed his strong arm around the reeling boy as a support. Poor Marion followed, feeling like a criminal on whom such bitter mortification had been heaped that she could not raise her eyes from the ground. The man behind the desk stepped out, and asked the young lady respectfully if he should get her a carriage. p page: 108-109[View Page 108-109] 108 What lhe W'orld Made ThLnm. ' Oh ves!" said Marion gratefully, and for the first time her lips quivered at this evidence of compassion in a stranger, whose business it was to provide the poison which must nightly bow many a fair young head under the weight of disgrace, which now rested upon that of Alfred Ford. Harold, with an appearance of reckless bra- vado, went away with his friend, for he rather dreaded the reproach of Marion's resolute face; and the others drove back to Mrs. Carlton's door, the sister sobbing over the sins of the unconscious youth in one corner of the carriage, who was snor- ing heavily, in a deep drunken slumber, and taint- ing the atmosphere with the impurity of his pres- ence,-a form that before this transformation had been that of her own dear brother. The gray morning light coming cold and pale through the windows, found old Michael seated patiently beside Alfred's bed watching the flush gradually fade from the sleeping face, with a grave look of anxiety on his own. Mrs. Carlton was very much shocked to learn of Marion's suffering, since she left her niece early in the evening; and when the girl poured forth a Harold, the Bad Angel. 109 torrent of anger and reproaches against Harold as the cause of Alfred's folly, the mother's heart also grew heavy with doubt and fear. Mrs. Carlton's was an easy temperament, however, and Harold easily influenced her into thinking him careless, rather than wicked in the whole matter, when he returned home half an hour after the others. At breakfast Harold tried to propitiate his in- dignant cousin; but she repulsed his advances, and astonished Aunt Maud not a little by the frank avowal. "I hate you Harold Carlton, and I hope I may never see you again in my life." By which it will be readily seen that she was not by any means a perfect character. page: 110-111[View Page 110-111] "O What the World Made Them. CHAPTER VIII. ALFRED AND MARION ARE LEFT ORPHANS. (CATWHERE is Michael?" inquired Mr. Fort, VV pausing at the door of the pretty gothic cottage embowered in vines, where the gardener lived. "We expect him every minute, sir," said Michael's granddaughter, a cheerful, rosy-faced girl, who kept house for the old man. "This must not happen again. Going away without my permission too! It is very odd," said Mr. Ford peevishy, as he turned away again. The woman stood smoothing her apron, and looking after him. "Poor gentleman!" she murmured compas- sionately, but she attempted to make no excuse for the unusual absence of Michael. Mr. Ford was very much changed. He was irritable and moody, and his features in repose wore an anxious, haggard look, which seemed to Alfred and Marion are Left Orphans. 1" pinch and sharpen them into an expression of weary old age. If he had been a great financier, holding the tangling threads of vast enterprise in his grasp, possibly foreseeing some impending speculative crash, instead of a quiet person leading a retired life, respected by all for his strict integ- rity, the harassed, restless care on his brow might be more readily explained. Possibly his nervous system had received some shock, or his brain have been affected on the occasion when a slight faint- ness was caused by imprudent exposure to the sun. The doctor's orders were that Mr. Ford should remain in the darkened seclusion of the lhouse for a time, and Michael having taken alarm at this command, trudged off to the city for the children, hoping that his absence would not be noticed. But Mr. Ford had wilfully disobeyed the medical law, and strolling out discovered Michael's ab- sence without suspecting the object, and allowed himself to be pettishy vexed about it, especially as Michael was detained by Alfred's gayety of the evening, when he had hoped to take a late night train back-home. page: 112-113[View Page 112-113] "2 WFlhat t/ie TForld Made Them. Mr. Ford lad not come forth to seek the old gardener; his steps drew him like the spell of some strange fascination, towards the new con- servatory, which had been built since Alfred and Marion had gone away to school. Mr. Ford's eye rested with delight on the airy structure, which seemed like a beautiful crystal prison reflecting the sun's rays in prismatic hues on the smooth walls, and gathering additional brightness as the golden arrows of light glittered and shimmered over the dome which, like a large bubble, fragile and unsubstantial, surmounted the roof. Dazzled by the painful brilliancy of the exterior, Mr..Ford sought relief in the softened twilight of the inte- rior, where a delicate screen of verdure veiled the roof. 'The atmosphere was sweet with the per- fume of exotics that towered into trees beneath the dome, crowned with feathery crests, drooped in broad leaves -crimson and purple-veined- bloomed in velvet-rich flowers, clung in festoons from branch to branch of waving, ribbon-like air plants. At the entrance, marble boys supported shells of spouting waters, and in the centre of the conservatory, beneath the dome where the paths Alfred and Marion are left Orphans. 113 met, was a fountain with carp swimming in the basin, the water glancing from their scales of scarlet and gold. Tame birds twittered soft music, and made gentle rustlings and patter like rain- drops among the leaves, mingling with the rippling splash of water in the fountains. "It is so beautiful," sighed Mr. Ford, as if in extenuation, and then he winced slightly with a look of passing pain. Somebody glided noiselessly up behind the ab- stracted gentleman, and clasped a pair of small hands suddenly over his eyes. Mr. Ford started, and uttered a nervous excla- mation which was almost a scream. "Who is it? What do you want?" Then the hands slipped around his neck, a shower of kisses followed, and Marion smiled brightly up at him. ," Oh, you darling! Only to think of finding you up, and out of doors, instead of sick in bed. Why didn't you send for us, you naughtiest of papas? Did I frighten you really?" Mr. Ford looked surprised, and confused. He glanced from Alfred to Michael and Mrs. Carlton, then he said sharply, suspiciously, page: 114-115[View Page 114-115] "4 What the World Made Them. "What has happened? Have you heard any- thing from-the-Osbornes?" "The Osbornes!" repeated Marion in aston- ishment. "What can be the matter with them?" ' Ah! true, I forgot," said Mr. Ford, passing his hand across his forehead in a troubled way, as if to clear some cloud away. "Very-well-" He left the sentence unfinished, and abruptly proposed returning to the house. Michael pulled Alfred's sleeve gently, raised a warning finger, and said impressively: "Be good to him, now." A few moments later Alfred thrust his head into Marion's room. "Are you going to tell about me?" The young man had not spoken to a soul during the journey home. "No," said Marion promptly. Alfred kissed his sister, and said firmly: "It shall never happen again." Marion glanced around quickly, and for once her rapid action was to good purpose. She drew Alfred's hand forward gently so that it rested on Alfred and Marion are left OJlplans. 115 a bible, thus giving the promise something of the solemnity of an oath. After that they said no more about the matter. Mrs. Carlton and Marion decided that Mr. Ford looked ill, and it was best they should be witl him, yet they were so much relieved not to find him confined to his room, that a more cheerful mood was at once established in the household. At dinner the father appeared gay and happy in the return of the children. "Such nonsense as Michael taking it into his head to go for you!" he said, touched, notwith- standing, by the old servant's fidelity. "I am very well." "You have no appetite," said Mrs. Carlton. "' I never was a gourmand, my dear Maud," replied Mr. Ford smiling and pushing aside the almost untasted food. "I. wish I could sleep more soundly, however." When Alfred retired to his own room, he gave himself up to the reflections which a return to his boyhood's home naturally induced. With what shame and disgust did he recall the -previous night's disslpation, and inaginl hIis ownl inlbecile page: 116-117[View Page 116-117] "6 What the World Made Them. condition when led home by Marion! With what loathing and sickening abhorrence did he live over again the moment of sluggish awakening in the pitiless reproach of the bright morning sun- shine! A glass of wine-sparkling trifle as it seemed--might have prevented his ever seeing his father again in life, if Mr. Ford had been stricken down as Michael feared. Alfred shuddered at the thought, and then he noticed that his father's footsteps were echoing through the hall and rooms, as if he was restlessly moving about, so he concluded to go to him. "I can't sleep," said Mr. Ford in an excited tone. "No, you needn't look at those vials, none of them quiet me, not even laudanum. I have such horrible dreams, too; I would rather remain awake." Alfred, seriously alarmed at his father's condi- tion, begged him to rest on the sofa while he read aloud; so, carefully modulating his voice to a low, monotonous tone, the son read page after page, and the father, soothed by the drowsy mur mur, sank into a fitful slumber. Alfred watched him thoughtfully, wondering Alfred and Marion are left Orphans. 117 what had wrought this change. Presently Mr. Ford stirred uneasily, and groaned- "It is coming!" then altering his position, seemed to sleep more soundly. Alfred stole away and sought his own pillow, feeling the need of no other opiate than Youth. In the morning Mr. Ford was not to be found in his room, or the house. A search through the grounds revealed him in the new conservatory, which he had entered hours before, finding relief in walking the sheltered paths until his exhausted frame claimed repose on a rustic seat beside the bubbling fountain. "Suppose we should take a sea voyage to- gether, father," urged Alfred, several days later. "Why?" inquired Mr. Ford, eyeing his son distrustfully. "It would improve your health. Will you go?" To which Mr. Ford made the somewhat singular reply: "Not yet." Before Mrs. Carlton returned home, her brother-in-law, who seemed to feel a dread of page: 118-119[View Page 118-119] "8 What the TWorld Malde Them. relinquishing all claim on society as an invalid, proposed giving a party in the lady's honor, as well as to celebrate the return of his son and daughter. "Don't let us have the Osbornes this time," coaxed Marion, who was making a list of invita- tions, while Alfred wrote the notes with many flourishes of the pen-"l They are so ill-natured and proud I And Mr. Lawson must come too, with his drawl and tiresome ways." "You must not slight them on any account," exclaimed Mr. Ford looking up from his news- paper, "I hope you are always polite to them." Marion pouted. What young lady just finished by Madame Latour would amiably endure having her politeness questioned? So the Osbornes came with much display of elegant attire, and a languid superiority of bear- ing that was amusing, considering that their grandfather had been an emigrant from the old country, who worked as a day-laborer until he discovered one morning that his bit of land lay within the limits of a great city. The shrewd grandfather had no faith in his son, whose head 9 Alfred and Marionl a e left Orphans. 119 was easily turned by sudden prosperity, and the inheritance of Miss Kathleen and Nora had been left in the safe guardianship of Governor Ford, who was at that time trustee of several other estates. Norah was the young lady who had driven past Marion in ler basket carriage, when the latter was carrying her bird-cage, indifferent to criti- cism; and her importance of manner was still more increased, by being engaged to Mr. Lawson, a gentleman wearing the most beautiful velvet coats and jewelry, although Marion complained that he never said 'anything at all interesting, but appeared half asleep. She little knew that he had practiced this trick of expresssion long and patiently, feeling assured then that fashion would claim him as her own, and no more noble aspiration stirred the soul of Mr. Lawson. Mr. Ford appeared to the best advantage as host, and while receiving his friends now, there was not a trace of nervous irritability in his man- ner. "How lovely! What an enchanting place!" page: 120-121[View Page 120-121] 120 What the World Made Them. exclaimed Miss Noral, pausing to admire the new conservatory, with a shade of envy in her admira- tion too, for she could never hope to surround herself'with the beautiful objects among which Mr. Ford lived, even with the comfortable fortune which she would possess on coming of age. Our own resources always dwindle into insig- nificance before the fancied prosperity of others. "It must have cost an awful amount of money," said Mr. Lawson gravely. "Not an extravagant sum," said Mr. Ford lightly, for he had overheard the remark, but a scarcely perceptible tremor shook the hands he had raised to put aside a pendant branch. Alfred, whose attention seldom wandered from his father in these days, noticed it with a chill of undefinable dread. The day had been intensely sultry, and every tree on the lawn stood motionless in the still night, as Mr. Ford's guests strolled about the paths, inhaling the aromatic odors of the dark evergreens that drew sombre shadows on the grass, or listened to the murmur of the distant sea. The treacherous calm of the weather sug- Alfred and Marion are left Orphans. 121 gested a lull before a crash of the elements. This proved to be the case. A line of dark clouds rolled up in threatening masses over the sea, gathering in volume, and of deepest black color, with a ragged fringe of white vapor floating against this inky background. The party in the house had scarcely noticed the distant roll of the thunder, except to predict a refreshing shower after the intense heat. Alfied was quietly summoned out of doors, where he found Michael watching the advancing storm with great anxiety. ' Keep the north windows closed if you can," said the old gardener cautiously. "If it should do any damage, don't let him know to-night." What do you fear, Michael?" "Do you see them black clouds with a jagged edge of white? Hail," said Michael. Alfred very quietly closed the shutters of the supper-room, where his father was, and waited. A blinding glare of lightning flooded the heavens for an instant, followed by sharp, rattling peals of thunder like the discharge of musketry, then- the rain descended in pouring torrents, 6 page: 122-123[View Page 122-123] 122 What the World Made Them. drowning all sound. Mr. Ford did not heed the severity of the storm; he was engaged in an animated debate with a gentleman on some ques- tion of art, when a crashing avalanche of bullets seemed to have been hurled against the house. "What was that?" exclaimed Mr. Ford. ' Hail," said Mr. Lawson, quietly. "I am afraid your new green-house will suffer." What made the man say that? Alfred longed to thrust him outside into the storm, now that all the mischief was done. Mr. Ford turned several shades paler, and leaned against the mantle-piece, while the muscles about his mouth stiffened peculiarly, but he betrayed no other emotion, although his attention evidently wandered. Alfred ran up-stairs, and peered forth into the darkness when the fury of the storm had some- what abated. The hail often took an erratic course, even in its most furious descent. If the tempest had only spared the conservatory! Slender hope,--the glass dome had disap- peared. There was music and gayety within doors, light streamed from the open windows, and Alfred and Marion are left Orphans. 123 illuminated the table with its cool pyramids of ices and confectionery. Aunt Maud was in her glory, with a word and jest for every one in the right place, while the hum of merry voices floated through the brilliant rooms. Suddenly Mr. Ford's voice rose above the rip- pling flow of small talk: " Give them wine to drink the health of a defaulter!" The voice was clear and distinct, yet harsh and unnatural in tone. A profound silence froze the idle prattle of the throng. Mr. Ford stood at the head of the table, his eyes distended, and fixed on space as if he saw no one, then his formn swayed slowly, a gray pallor overspread his face, and the gesture with which he fell was of shield- ing himself from the son who attempted to raise him. In the confusion which ensued Aunt Maud alone retained any degree of composure, dismiss- ing the shocked guests with smooth courtesy and ready excuses. "Mr. Ford had suffered from a sunstroke recently, and should have avoided all excite- ment." page: 124-125[View Page 124-125] 124 What the World Made Them. But a worse blow than the withering power of the noonday sun had stricken down Governor Ford of spotless reputation; he had yielded to a miserable temptation, and in dragging down the fair structure of his own honesty, had blighted the future of his children6 Every shutter and door of the house was closed next day, excluding the cheerful outside world where the birds still sang; people came and went with velvet tread, and all sound was hushed to the lowest whisper. For like the shattered wreck of his beautiful flower home, too fragile to resist the tempest's fury, Mr. Ford lay dying, ri id and inanimate as marble, incapable of utter- ing a single word of farewell, impotent to shield those he had wronged. Only the terrible mute intensity of his eyes rested on Alfred and Marion, as the sands of life ebbed rapidly away, a mournful appeal, agonised in the dumb silence, the fearful struggle to burst the fetters which held his frame in an icy grasp of inaction. Then the gray shadow deepened, the light slowly faded, and the hand which Marion held stiffened, never to return the pressure of her warm fingers again. Alfred and Marion are left Orphans. 125 Governor Ford was dead; had died a sudden, dreadful death, and the people among whom he had lived, wore the grave aspect of mourning. Before he was fairly, laid away to rest in the quiet earth, a rumor-born of the wind, perhaps --flew from ear to ear with startling rapidity, doubted, scoffed at, then listened to in the horror- stricken silence of gradual conviction. ( Mr. Ford had wasted nearly his whole fortune in cultivating the resources of his property, and had appropriated the money of the Osborne girls, left for years in his trust, for the same extravagant purpose. What could be the future of the brother alnd sister with such an inheritance? page: 126-127[View Page 126-127] r 8, a Z a PART II. ADVERSITY. page: 128-129[View Page 128-129] I o 9 t Disgrace an Inheritance. 129 CHAPTER IX. DISGRACE AN INHERITANCE. M1R FORD'S daugllter might remain in the seclusion of her own chamber weeping over the bitter loss she hlad sustained, missing a familiar presence, an indulgent parent's smile in the gloomy house, where the mystery of a still, waxen face, a shrouded form resting in the dignity of a lifeless repose on sable drapings still lingered; but for Alfred, the son of the dead gentleman, there was no space allowed for mere idle grief. Like the successive breaking in of wide waters on this young soul, came the second wave of adver- sity, more crushing in its effect even, than the first sense of bereavement. Alfied was informed to the smallest known de- tail of his father's dishonored name, and that too in a way, and from a person the most humiliating to his pride. For the first time in his life Alfred Ford learned what it was to be treated with con- 6* page: 130-131[View Page 130-131] 130 What the RWorld Made Them. temptuous insolence, and the change was none the less galling for the world's having always petted and caressed Governor Ford's children. This same world, so generous with its sugared kind- nesses previously, now said with one voice that the mere reverse of losing one's fortune need make no difference, but when a man in Governor Ford's position forgot himself so far as actually to take the Osborne's money for his expensive con- servatories, it was a far different matter. "Watch, and pray that ye enter not into temp- tation," was a prayer that the world did not utter in the fear of straying from the straight path of honesty, with the warning example of Governor Ford, who from his pinnacle of seeming tranquil prosperity had suddenly been hurled into the low- est depths of pain and disgrace and death, before its eyes. First Mr. Manning, the lawyer, came to Alfred, showing great consideration in the manner he adopted of breaking the news to the bewildered son, yet stating the case clearly that Mr. Ford had left his business affairs in a very embarrassed con- dition, owing to the recent heavy drains upon his Disgrace an Inheritance. 181 funds to import expensive exotics, erect suitable homes for the foreign plants, and keep those already acclimated in perfect condition. The window of the room where the lawyer and Alfred sat, commanded a view of the new green- house, which had been reduced to total ruin by the hailstorm, the roof crushed, broken fragments of glass strewn in glittering heaps on the ground, and the plants wilting, fading in the icy breath of the north which had reached them in their frail shelter. Scarcely less hopeless did the wreck of the builder's fortune seem. "The Osbornes' property is safe; I hope," said Alfred eagerly. Mr. Manning shook his head; even now lie could not speak of his old friend disrespectfully. "The whole has been borrowed for some pur- pose. Your father leaves a letter addressed to me, in which he states that the failure of a stock spec- ulation, and his desire to complete a work already begun, induced him to appropriate from time to time portions of the property of his wards, hoping to be able to pay the debt very soon. At the page: 132-133[View Page 132-133] 132 What the World Made Them. time of his death he had not refunded more than twenty-five thousand dollars." "And the whole amount?" gasped Alfred. "One hundred thousand," said Mr. Manning. Alfred hid his face in his hands. The entire truth flashed upon him now. "We may arrange affairs yet, and the place comes to you children from your mother," said Mr. Manning, collecting all the papers he could find in Mr. Ford's library, and preparing to de- part. The good lawyer looked troubled, for he real- ized that it might require more than legal skill to unravel the tangleld skein, or smooth the future path of the two orphans. Alfred remained where Mr. Manning had left him, stunned by the heavy blow, with a thousand conflicting emotions and plans revolving through his brain, none of which had assumed tangible form, When the door opened, and Mr. Lawson entered. The gentleman had walked into the house of mourning without the ceremony of ringing the door-bell, and he gave Alfred no other greeting than a curt nod of the head. Disgrace an Inheritance. 133 "I have come to have a little conversation with you, sir, and perhaps you will oblige me by tell- ing me what you intend to do," he said, throwing himself into an armchair uninvited, and not with the bland manner worn as Governor Ford's guest of the other evening. "What I intend to do?" repeated Alfred Ford. "Yes. I cannot believe that you will allow such a disgrace to rest upon your father's name as now darkens it." "Certainly not," said Alfred, without the vaguest idea of how he was to efface the stain. "Then you will pay over the sum of which he robbed two orphans," said Mr. Lawson, watching thie effect of his words. Mr. Lawson," replied Alfred, witl a calm de- termination peculiar to persons of his 'even tern- perament, "if you dare to speak of my dead father in that tone in my house, I will put you out of the door." But Mr. Lawson, although he did not look in the least sleepy now, did not wish to be forcibly ejected by an unusually strong young collegian; he preferred to go himself. page: 134-135[View Page 134-135] 134 What the World Made Them. "Your house?" he said, sneeringly. "Yes, if you choose to retain it at the expense of your own reputation, and of reducing others to beggary." "You don't seem to remember that giving it up reduces me to beggary," said Alfred, stung by Mr. Lawson's contempt. ' It's a monstrous .act of injustice if you do not raise the sum stolen from my future wife, and her sister, I can tell you. All for such insane folly as a lot of plants,. and hot-houses to be destroyed in one night. It is a pity that people cannot even be consulted as to whether they will have their money invested in glass targets for the hail to shiver, and flowers that perish in a day." Mr. Lawson said this with indescribable bitter- ness, and the truth of reproaches, selfishy uttered, pierced Alfred's heart like a dagger thrust. His father must not be reviled in his grave, whatever his faults, and listened patiently because his own sense of justice told him that there was cause for deep resentment. "The sum shall be paid," said Alfred slowly. Mr. Lawson was not a hero by any means; he was selfish, and worldly in the extreme, and he l , X Disgrace an Inheritance. 13 went away very well satisfied with the success of his visit to Alfred Ford. He had determined to see the son, without the interference of older, wiser heads like Mr. Manning, and so had gained admission to the house without announcing him- self, for fear Alfred should decline seeing him. "There's good stuff' in the boy," he reflected. He will give up the place, if I'm not mistaken, for I touched up his pride pretty well. It does seem rather hard on him, but his father llad no business to meddle with Norah's money." Aunt Maud's emotions were always near the surface. She cried herself nearly blind over Mr. Ford's death, for she was sincerely attached to lim, and felt keenly the family disgrace in many ways whch had not yet occurred to the more in- Experienced minds of her nephew and niece. The passion gust of grief having subsided, the ady next began to consider how to make the best of things. After his interview with Mr. Lawson, Alfred came up stairs to Aunt Maud and Marion, beginning to pace the room with hasty, uneven steps which betrayed his excitement. "This place belongs to you and me, Marion. Are you willing to sell it? page: 136-137[View Page 136-137] 186 What the World Made Them. "Must we?" asked the sister, tears filling her eyes at the prospect of a fresh misfortune. "It might be a good plan," said Aunt' Maud reflectively. "These country seats cost so much to keep up." ' We must part with it if we are honest, May," said the brother, with gloomy resolution of tone. "What do you mean?" inquired Mrs. Carl- ton, quickly. "I mean to sell every acre of land, every stick of furniture, every flower and shrub to pay my father's debts, and clear his name. Do you agree, May?" Yes," assented Marion half wonderingly. ' I couldn't live here in peace, and even look my neighbors in the face; with the Osbornes wronged," cried Alfred. "We ought to do it for his sake, May, after all he did for us." "Yes, yes," said Marion with a sob. "I am willing. Don't mind me." "My dear children, are you crazy?" inter- posed Aunt Maud, raising her hands with a despairing gesture. "You are not responsible. It looks all very fine in your impulsive youth to Disgrace an Inheritance. 137 rashy part with everything, but you know noth- ing of poverty, and you may eventually want for bread. Why not repay the Osbornes by de- grees?" "It will be sometime before I can earn s6venty-five thousand dollars, Aunt Maud." ' Then sell half of the property." "Right is right," said Alfred firmly, remem- bering Mr. Lawson's arguments, which had a ring of truth, too, although used for a selfish end. Mr. LaWson would have given up no claim on property of his, for Alfred Ford, however. "I hope you don't intend to infer that your father did wrong, intentionally, Alfred Ford, although his affairs may have been complicated at the time of his death, and he alone understood them!" said Mrs. Carlton ; and both the young people loved her for the garland she thus placed around their father's sad memory. I only know what it is my duty to do as his son. I will pay back every penny of the Osborne money before any other consideration." ' Nobody else would make the same sacrificee for you." page: 138-139[View Page 138-139] 138 What the World Made Them. ' That is not a very strong argument, my dear aunt. - Any one would save their own honor at the expense of mere convenience. There is no other course for me, that I can see plainly. Besides, I am young; I can work." ' But Marion is a girl; you will at least save her from want, unless you propose having her work too." "The sale of the library might be appropriated for her use, and anything else which may remain after we are free from this yoke." Do you intend to have the pictures and silver even, swept away? I wonder you don't dispose of Marion's wardrobe!" "Don't, please, Aunt Maud," interrupted the girl. "I am sure Alfred is right, and doing as he would have liked-" grief choked further utterance. "I have no influence, but I beg of you to con- sult Mr.' Manning, one of y our father's best friends, before you take such a hasty step." "It cannt make any difference. I have promised, and I will keep my word." Further argument was useless; Alfred did keep his word. Disgrace an Inheritance. 139 Mr. Manning indeed, stated the case plainly to him, poising the balance as evenly as he could with impartial statement. "It all belongs to the Osbornes," said Alfred, finally. When the resolution was taken, the heavy hours of another day had slowly passed away; the mere pretence of tasting food placed before the silent family concluded, Alfred shut himself into the deserted library, his father's favorite room, where every book seemed to bear the recent impress of his fingers, every fern frond draping the window, breathe of his presence. A fiery force of anger and bitterness and vex- ing thoughts, seethed within the youth, stiffening into resolution new purposes which were roused into existence only by necessity. - Why had it all come upon him, this heavy burden of care, dis- grace and adversity, for which his previous life had so little prepared him? What could he do? His father had been guilty of theft as much as the poor man who steals a loaf of bread without the palliation of want. Alfred Ford was fighting his first real life page: 140-141[View Page 140-141] "O What the World Made Thenm. battle, and strive as le would to stifle these rebellious repinings as he walked restlessly up and down the floor, a low murmur of the distant world's opinion, unsparing criticism, would surge in dull waves of pain in his ears. How could he face it with a burning brand of shame scorching his brow? Gradually a strange sense of quiet laid its spell on the turbulent young soul. The twilight had deepened into night, and the moon drew bars of liquid silver across the darkness of the room, shedding a weird radiance over the grim, stern face of the revolutionaly officer on the wall. The painted semblance of features long since dust, looked down upon Alfred with a grave questioning gaze that said: "'I won in the struggle through much suffer- ing in my time, cannot you?" Alfred touched reverently the writing desk his father had used, and opening the casement leaned out his uncovered head. All was very calm and peaceful. From the vast expanse of clear sky, infinite depths of space, the brilliant moon and stars looked down pitifully Disgrace an Inheritance. 141 on many saddened lives, as from a 1ure, distant, upper world. A deep, mysterious influence, an all-pervading sense of some unseen presence, which to the sick, forsaken soul is like the enfold- ing of the sheltering care of God, made Alfred Ford rest his face on the window sill, and pray for help in his time of sore need-hs first earnest prayer which lifted his soul to the' great throne in urgent supplication. He had been reared religiously, as far as always attending church went, but the religion which the minister preached weekly to an inattentive, butterfly throng, had been a mere form, cold and vague, which he had never needed until now. No earthly power could sustain him ; lie turned instinctively-as the flowers to the glad sunshine -to the Creator. Resting there, sheltered by the still night, with the delicate ferns stirring and quivering against his cheek, Alfred thought of the fresh grave over which the stars watched too, and the trees stood shadowy and dark in the dusk; thought only with pity and affection of the nerveless hands folded quietly on the pulseless breast, which would never be able to wipe off the page: 142-143[View Page 142-143] "2 What the W1orld Made Them. stain darkening the owner's memory; feeling with that growth of new strength within him glad that he was appointed to the task. Mr. Lawson had said there was good stuff in him, although qualities best calculated to develope his manhood, would have forever remained dor- mant in the indolent ease of a life of wealth. Once cast on the swift rushing tide of existence, Alfred must strain every nerve to the labor of keeping afloat, or go under. Affliction coming direct from God, not man, must pass like the great plough-share over the soil to make it fit for the rich, abundant harvest. The change must come, and strangers live in the paradise Governor Ford had built to shelter his children. Aunt Maud departed and would have taken Marion with her,-as Mrs. Carlton's house was to be her future home-but the sister determined to bear her share, at least, of the pain of parting, and resolutely refused to leave Alfred alone. Before their eyes the dismantling l1rocess took place, each object as it vanished, growing dear to them from long association, until at last the house was stripped of every ornament. Disgrace an Inheritance. 143 The girl often struggled ineffectually to conceal her tears in the barren desolation of the upper chambers, but the boy, whose face had grown years older in these last few weeks, counted tlhe sum of money which slowly increased. The po'- traits of the library were sent to Aunt Maud for safe keeping; the fine books collected during; a life time, disappeared, leaving a blank of empty shelves; and the Governor Ford place was announced far and wide, "for sale." All these changes could not take place without Marion's forming some project, whch she kept to herself until accomplished, as usual. "Don't sell the plants; give them to me," she said. Alfred hesitated: "The florist is going to make me an offer to- morrow for the flowers." "Don't they ever move graperies?" pondered Marion. "The glass could be taken out, and the frames changed I should think." "What an idea, May! You can't take the greenhouses with your baggage to Aunt Maud's." "Alfred," said his sister seriously, "Michael page: 144-145[View Page 144-145] "4 What the World Made Them. ought to have the flowers. He is too old to get another place." There was no living person who brought back the dead father so vividly as the poor old gar- dener. "We will see about it." But Marion did not wait for her more deliber- ate brother to decide the matter. She bought a small cottage out in the country a mile, with the fund put aside for her support from the library sale, and then went to Mr. Manning to ask him what he thbught of the bargain. "We are young, and it don't so much matter, you know, but I can't leave Michael on the town. I'm going to carry the glass out there, so that he can raise grapes from our Black Hamburg vines, and as many plants as I can to set him up in business. Is not that a splendid idea, Mr. Manning! But I shan't give him the place; I know him too well for that; he would not go a step. I will own it and call him my tenant- without any rent." Marion smiled for the first time since her father's death; elastic young spirits cannot long remain depressed. Disgcrace azn Inheritance. 145 Mr. Manning, pleased with her generosity, promised to help her, and she returned to Alfred triumphantly. Before she had gone far, she ran back, and flashed into the grave old gentleman's dark office. Oh! Mr. Manning, what do you think of a strawherry bed?" "A strawherry bed, my dear?" he echoed, looking up from his papers in some perplexity. ' Yes, there's space back of the house, my house." "Michael will know better than I do," said the lawyer, and Marion vanished. The old gardener was more crushed by his master's death than many a fair weather friend. He sat for hours gazing at the broken ruin of the conservatory in which he had taken so much pride, and only roused from this lethargy to visit Mr. Ford's grave, which he permitted no stranger to touch, moulding the sod over it with his own faithful hands, planting the sweetest flowers to bloom above it, and daily placing a cross of white lilies on the fresh grass. Marion coaxed and reasoned the old man into a 7 page: 146-147[View Page 146-147] "6 What the Wtorld Made Them. gradually awakening interest in her new scheme, and before Aunt Maud heard even a rumor of this last mad freak, Michael was installed in his cottage, with his grape vines planted, and the small place stocked with all the plants it could hold. "Mebbe I might do something for them yet, by saving," he said to his granddaughter, casting a speculative glance over his new dominion. A flush of pride glowed in Alfred's face when the moment arrived, longed for impatiently, and the Osborne debt was paid. Miss Norah might dry her tears, and possibly wonder what would become of her playmate Marion Ford; and Mr. Lawson, having goaded a high spirited youth to making the greatest sacri- fice in his power, might resume his former sleepy indolence of manner. The debt was paid, but at a heavy price! For the last time the two orphans went to the old church, crumbling and tottering under its weight of age, where the pulpit, hung with faded cloth, towered to a giddy height, and the organ that had uttered sweet notes of praise in all the passing years since the Colonial soldiery first shocked the Disgrace an Inheritance. 147 sacred stillness with rude oath, since Marion's mother bloomed there as a bride, and now the place would know them no more. For the last time the rising sun gilded the glit- tering foam crests of the advancing tide, and the two wandered through the vacant chambers tak- ing a wistful long farewell of every nook. "God help me! I will have it all back again some day," said Alfred with firmly closed mouth, the square, set look of unalterable pur- pose which made him like his race. Indeed in the sale he had made a stipulation which greatly amused people: that if he could, he should buy the place back again within the space of thirty years-;--a request that the purchaser unhesitat- ingly granted. For the last time the setting sun flamed in broad tracts of gold across the lawn, bathing the house front in a glory, and they watched the day fade, in company with their best friend in the place of their birth: a feeble little old lady. Miss Mitty sat between them with a young hand clasped in each of her thin, withered ones. Governor Ford's fault made no difference with her; perhaps she was already so near the page: 148-149[View Page 148-149] "8 What the World Made Them. brink of the dark river and the celestial city beyond, that the tidings of temptation and error in this world fell unheeded on her ear, or was it possible that the old lady in the ripe maturity of age, already reflected in her small, humble way, something of the Divine compassion, the infinite clemency of Divine judgment. ' We are all sinners, my dears," she said gently, " and we are not to judge of others by the trials we may have encountered." With the light of another day the Ford children went away; the girl clinging even to the cold iron entrance gates which she kissed passion- ately; the boy trusting himself only to look straight before him into the future. The sun is so scorching, the winds are so ill, That I faint at the travail-or shudder and chill: My feet they are wounded, lly garments are torn, And the labor grows harder than labor at morn. E'en the grapes, they are bitter, and quench not my thirst, And woes are so many, I know not the worst!" "Oh child," spoke the father, " let patience be thine, Till the grapes thou find'st bitter, ferment into wine. A robe there is weaving which cannot be torn, A robe which by wedding guests only is worn, A crown there is promised with jewels more bright, Than a monarch's proud diadem radiant in light, And the breath of the flowers which fade not nor die, Shall heal every wound, and shall hush every sigh!" The Storly of an. Ambbitious Girl. 149 CHAPTER X. THE gTORY OF AN AMBITIOUS GIRL. SC A ARION FORD, I sometimes wonder if you have common sense." I don't know, ma'am, I am sure.' ' Here is an offer of which any girl might be proud, and you say no without pausing to consider one of the advantages. You should remember how you are situated, my dear, for although I am glad always to have you with me, when I die I slall leave nothing more than Harold will spend." I don't know why a girl should feel proud,( said Marion perversely, with a shudder of aver- sion. "I am very much obliged to Mr. Maude- ville for liking me, but he is so old, and I know his hair would be white if lie did not dye it a purple black." "He is not young certainly, still he is very well preserved; besides being a gentleman of hgh position and fortune." ( page: 150-151[View Page 150-151] Lat the World Made Them. T]1 Fortune, of course," said Marion somewhat bitterly. " That is the first consideration." "I don't know why you need to despise wealth," returned Aunt Maud, holding a tur- quoise earring up beside her niece's face to try the becoming effect. " It would be of great use to you, and only think how much you might do for Alfied." -Poor Alfred!" sighed Marion, a shade of distress flitting across her face. " Well, well! don't fret about it, child, Mr. Maudeville has given you a week to decide in." Both ladies were beautifully dressed, the elder in moire antique, and the younger in soft, fleecy white, as airy and light as the clouds that curl about mountain peaks. This toilette, in exquisite taste, was a gift from Aunt Maud, who urged her niece to go out with her on this occasion, more than a year having elapsed since Mr. Ford's death, and that lady took great pride in Marion's appear- ance. A whole long year had passed, with Marion moping disconsolately in Aunt Maud's house, dis- contented with her inactivity, yet not knowing Thie S'torj of an Ambitious Girl. 151 what to do. Yes, and now she had had an offer of marriage, from no hero of romance fresh in the charm of youth, whose birth had been gifted by the fairies of beauty and wisdom, but from an elderly gentleman, who exposed himself to the ridicule of his friends by selecting so youthful a bride. Poor Marion felt very natural repugnance towards lier venerable suitor, and when she was unable to turn a deaf ear to the worldly wisdom of Mrs. Carlton's exhortations, she felt the wild desire of timid animals, hlunted and driven to pause at bay on the verge of a precipice, to seek safety in further flighlt-anywhere. If she was in tlle old home, safe at her father's side, it would not be Mr. Maudeville-wvith his stiff gait, and his affectation of a juvenile bearing, which was far more painful than as if he had maintained the dignity of old age-who would come a wooing, and one of the rosy dreams of girlhood was ruth- lessly destroyed. Alfied would not want her to marry such an old, old gentleman, and yet there came the most serious doubt of the whole ques- tion ; she could help her brotler, who found the struggle a hard one, with Mr. Maudeville's gold, page: 152-153[View Page 152-153] 152 What the World Made Them. and the sickening dread of the result of her own decision returned. On the present occasion Mrs. Carlton and her niece were going to attend a large party, given by the brother of Marion's suitor, and it was precisely on that account the aunt had been so particular about the young girl's appearance. Besides, the gay lady was glad to mingle with society again, after her period of dull retirement. Marion felt as if she was dragged against her will into the bright throng, resplendent with frosted fabrics, silks, satins, and flashing jewels, beneath the golden dazzle of the chandeliers. She thought of the dead father, and the brother who never mingled w4'ith these people now, be- cause he was no longer their equal in social posi- tion, and it seemed heartless that she should be there. Music rose and fell on the air in strains of sweet harmony, and other girls smiled and chatted with young men of their own age. Poor Marion would not have felt such a keen pang of envious jealousy, if she could have taken refuge behind aunt Maud's ample flounces in a quiet corner, but Mr. Maudeville, more painfully juvenile than usual, The Story of an Ambitious Girl. 153 persisted in leading her about, or occupying some conspicuous place. Why could she not be left in peace, instead of listening to Mr. Maudeville's de- scription of his new horses and pictures, and the luxuries which the lady of his choice should en- joy? Fragments of this conversation reached the surrounding company, and the consciousness that Mr. Maudeville was making them both ridiculous increased her embarrassment and distress. A scented glove was laid lightly on Marion's shoul- der, and a calm voice said: "My dear Miss Marion, will you come with me? Mr. Maudeville will excuse you!" Marion knew the voice before she turned to the beautiful owner with a glad smile of relief, which would not have been complimentary to the gentle- man, had he seen it. It was Mrs. Henry Maude- ville, the hostess, who had gracefully come to the rescue with her usual tact, for Mrs. Maudeville had an iltuitive perception of anything wearisome to hel guests, and unobtrusively remedied the diffi- culty. Mrs. Maudeville was a society woman, but she 7, page: 154-155[View Page 154-155] 154 What the World Made Them. was not like Aunt Maud, whose manner was always animated, and smiles frequent. Mrs. Maudeville was considered a charming lady, and her faultless beauty received universal admiration, but she was cold, reserved, and seldom smiled. This last peculiarity was remarkable. A stranger could recall an hour's conversation with her, sprightly, and amusing, and reflect with surprise that not the shadow of a smile had disturbed the marble gravity of her face. Pride was the mask that curved the full red lips in a haughty line, that dilated the thin nostril, but in the dark fath- omless eyes lurked a hopeless disappointment. People that believed in the great advantages of gentle birth, liked to illustrate a favorite hobby by pointing out the taper slenderness of Mrs. Maude- ville's fingers, the arched instep of her slender foot, the shell-like tiny ear; one could never be mistaken in such evidences of birth. Who was she? Nobody knew. Mr. Henry Maudeville, a very mature gentleman also, had married her in a distant city, but then her appear- ance was enough. Marion was so grateful to her hostess for taking The Story of an Ambitious Girl. 155 her into another room on some trifling pretext of looking at engravings, that she gladly shared the pictures with an old lady, and explained the sub- jects to her. In the meanwhile Mr. Maudeville's three daughters, all of them older than Marion, had responded to her greeting very stiffly, and peeped at her over the tops of their fans. Marion under- stood the coldness very well; Aunt Maud had already explained it to her. ' The young ladies will not want suchll a young stepmother. It is only natural they should ob- ject." Marion looked across the room at them, not realizing how readily her frank face expressed every feeling, and thought that she did not wish to be their. stepmother, any more than they wished her to be. Mrs. Henry Maudeville was reading her face with a penetrating, reflective expression, although she was complimenting a musician on his delight- ful execution at the same moment; but then Mrs. Maudeville could easily do two things at once. Marion's escape was only temporary, for soon page: 156-157[View Page 156-157] 1633- IWhat the tWorld lade Them. Aunt Maud and Mr. Maudeville swooped down upon her, and the latter led her to supper, never leaving her side again until they finally went home, when Marion petulantly wrenched away her hand, which the gentleman retained longer than was necessary in bidding her good night, and flew upstairs to her own room. She wished she was a little girl again, playing among Michael's flower beds! She wished she was dead-no, not quite that, but on the other side of the world somewhere, away from Mr. Maudeville. Then she cried herself to sleep. Next day a little delicate note on tinted paper, was brought to Marion, containing an invitation to visit Mrs. Maudeville that evening. Aunt Maud was very much pleased; it was evident the sister-in-law wished to be more familiarly acquainted with the future Mrs. Maude- ville. Of course from this complaisance to a new project on the match-making' lady's part, it will be seen that the pretty little dream about Harold had vanished with Mr. Ford's death, for Harold could not marry a penniless girl. Although both The Slory of an Ambitious Girl. 157 of the cousins were ignorant that any such plans lhad ever existed, a coolness had sprung up between them since Marion came to live with the Carltons. Harold was seldom at home now, except to grope his way through the halls when the day was dawning. Marion was pleased with her invitation, for slie liked Mrs. Maudeville, but with the bright antici- pation came the doubt that this might be only some trap to give her suitor the opportunity of talking concerning his horses and liveries. Mrs. Maudeville was entirely alone, to Marion's relief. The cold lady greeted her visitor with unusual cordiality. "I am left alone to-night," she siid, leading Marion into a small parlor where they would not be disturbed. "Perhaps I am selfish in wishing some youngr society to enliven nmy solitude." Marion said she was very glad to come, and glanced around the apartment which she had never entered before. It was plainly furnished, and over the mantlepiece hung the portrait of a child. Marion did not look at the portrait of the page: 158-159[View Page 158-159] 158 What h'e World lade Tlitun. little dead chld, fearing to attract the mother's attention; but any sucl precaution was unneces- sary, for her eyes turned involuntarily to the childish face, roguish, dimpled and' framed in rings of golden hair. "Now, how shall we amuse 'ourselves? Games are tedious, and I suppose ladies some- times weary of talking about the fashions. We give photograph albums to dull people, who will not be interested-in anything else, do we not?" Mrs. Maudeville did not appear at all like her usual collected self. Her tone was playful, her manner to Marion quite caressing as if she was talking with a child, and once a rare smile illuminated her face like a brilliant radiance. "Oh! Mrs. Maudeville, how lovely vou are when you laugh! cried Marion. ' Life is a serious business," she answered, as if excusing her gravity. "Surely it should not be; we were intended to enjoy so much. If we don't it must be our own fault or misfortune somewhat." ' Which?" questioned the elder lady. "Fault, if we have no great sorrow'; misfor- i The Story of an Ambitious Girl. 159 tune if we really know grief," said Marion, red- dening slightly to find herself actually advancing opinions to a stranger. "How is one to tell whether they are afflicted, or only discontented in disposition," persisted Mrs. Mauldeville. "Death is an affliction," replied Marion. "Then we have both known it, my dear," said the lady, leaning towards the young girl with a friendly glance, and poiting to the por- trait. Mrs. Maudeville had not invited Marion to visit her simply to amuse a passing hour, and ishe gradually approached the real object of lher invitation. "I like nothing so well as story-telling," she said after a pause, playing idly with the costly rings on her fingers. "Tell me a fairy tale, Marion." 'Indeed, I cannot; I have forgotten every- thing," said Marion in alarm. I should have the prince slain by the dragon in the middle of the story." "Then I must tell you one." page: 160-161[View Page 160-161] 160 -Whal the lWorld Malle Them. Marion was puzzled, but she concealed her amusement sufficiently to assent politely. Mrs. Maudeville raised herself erect in her chair, and looked full at her listener. "We are never too old to learn something from the example of others, are we?" "No." "Listen then, and I shall endeavor to trace the -history of an ambitious girl." "There once lived a girl, whose name we will call Hortense. Her home was in an obscure little town, her mother was coarse and repulsive, her father-in whom all traces of the gentleman had long since disappeared-a drunkard. Both par- ents, equally unscrupulous, had calculated upon their eldest daughter's beauty from her very cradle, to redeem them and their fallen fortunes. Indeed, her very name had been selected with more care than the Marys and Janes of plainer faces, with this view. Hortense sewed such slen- der finery as she possessed, with her own dainty fingers. There are women who must always re- veal sudden glimpses of beauty under disadvan- The Story of an Ambitious Girl. 161 tages; thus it was that this young girl in the first bloom of her opening loveliness, appeared like a princess in her plain dark clothes, for she hlad all innate g,od taste and never wore glaring, vulgar colors. In this she was a contrast to the next sister, plain, sober little Jane, but then Jane had very little leisure, for she worked in a factory. Tle life Hortense led was revolting to her,--with her mother a mere household drudge, and her father low and debased, many a time squandering Iis scanty earnings in a night's revel with boon com- panions. The proud daughter without love or reverence, felt only scorn for those about her, always looking forward to the time when she should elevate her- self, yet with a certain defiance at what sle con- sidered ler cruel hard fate. Accordingly, as ambi- tion was her ruling passion, at an early age she bgc,n to ponder as to what there might be availa- ble to fit her for the after position she was deter- mined to occupy. Upon one occasion the mother gave her some distasteful duty to perform. She accomplished it page: 162-163[View Page 162-163] 162 What the World Made Them. without complaint, but then displaying two deli- cate hands with chafed red palms, threw aside her broom and announced her intention of doing no more work. The mother raised an angry face from over some mysterious stewpan. ' Because," continued the daughter coolly, it hurts my hands. I sh11 read instead." "Read like a fine lady, will you, while I am slavig my life out,' rtorted the mother shrilly. slaving my life out, Hortense answered, 4, Nevertheless, I shl not work." "You ungrateful, wicked girl!" began the mother in a rage, but her husband, who was lis- tening while he lazily smoked his pipe, interrupted the torrents. "Let her alone, the others can take her share." And Hortense left the room, casting a glance of triumph and disdain at its occupants. Nothing more was said, for the parents learned gradually that their daughter intended, and was competent to stand her gr-ound. She next proceeded to ingratiate herself with a kind, quiet gentleman, who had the best library in the region. Interested by her amiability and The St ry of ant Ambitious Girl. 163 beauty, Mr. Mitchell determined to assist her edu- cation, as she evinced the greatest eagerness for learning. As being placed on an equality with the sons and daughters of the town's people was not at all to her mind, she held aloof from the common schools, and refused the advantages offered to the poorer class of children. From Mr. Mitchell she gleaned all knowledge gratefully. To his books she devoted herself, never refreshing her brain, or relaxing her senses with the lighter froth of romance, never wandering into girlhood's fanciful dreamland, peopled with rosy improbabili- ties; but steadily mastering volume after volume of histories, philosophies and travels, with bent brows and unwearied eyes. Thus two years elapsed, each day addingo new grace to her slender form, and rounding the soft olive cheek with its exquisite bloom. Among her surroundings many anl awkward young fellow would have ventured upon admiration had he dared, wlen Miss Hortense would look him through with her haughty eyes, and answer his rough, bashful greeting in such cold, choice lan- guage that he would fain retire disconcerted. page: 164-165[View Page 164-165] 164 What the World Made Thlm. The neighbors all scofed at her pride, but they never actually dared to do so to her face. Eventually, after these two years of marked progress, good Mr. Mit hel formed a still further project for her improve ent. He suggested that she should be sent to school. Aye, sir, but she can't. If she is decently fed and clothed, it is all we can do," said the mother dryly. I have enough at my disposal, if you will allow me-" he paused, fearing to wound her feelings, but he need hIve. had no such delicate scruples, for she grastped at his offer readily enough. "We are obliged to you, sir, and I am sure she will be grateful to you all her days." In her coarse, ignorant nature, Mrs. Walters really felt gratitude; she would not have been a mother if her heart had not been melted at the prospect of her darghter's having superior advantages. Hortense was not like the rest of them, more like her father's family, perhaps, and if she could be improved by schooling, so much the better; she might at least gain an easier liv- T/,e Str^ry of an Ambitious Girl. 165 ing than the present one of pinching poverty. The rich gentleman might as well help her daugh- ter with his charity, as any one else. Hortense heard the intelligence with wild delight, thanking her benefactor so warmly as to bring an answering glow of pleasure to his face. The father, weak, vacillating and selfish, was no less gratified at the prospect of his daughter's advancement. He told the proud Hortense of his own family and superior position until he had stooped to marrying her mother, and then misfor- tunes came. Hortense was apt to smile con- temptuously at the delusive word, for Mr. Wal- ters, although an accomplished musician, seldom roused from the slothful indolence of intemperance sufficiently to earn bread. Her mother, though only a blacksmith's daughter in the village to which Mr. Walters had drifted as a ruined spend- thrift, had compassionately tended him in illness, and since almost wholly supported the family by her own toilsome industry; therefore the girl ought to have respected the labor-worn, unlovely mother, instead of listening with interest to the father's boastful pride in his superiority of birth page: 166-167[View Page 166-167] 163 What the W4orld Made Them. and education but the seed had been sown in a fruitful soil, and the da/ughter determined to become a' lady. Hortense's ambition wlas pitiably foolish, if she actually realized what she wished to possess, for wealth in contrast to poverty, was the goal of her aspirations. She never once thought of attempt- ing-to elevate her degraded family by her own noble exertions: to be free from them was'all she desired. Mr. Mitchell, before whom Hortense always appeared quiet and lady-like, experienced not a little interest in his beautiful protegee, in whom hie imagined that he could detect great promise, and the old gentleman besides felt it to be a duty imposed on everybody to open wide the barred gates of education to youth in a free land. Hor- tense! Walters, thanks t1 the efforts of this good philanthropist, went to one of the best schools in the country. In this establishment she speedily became a favorite, for o wing to a certain valuable discretion she always preserved, she never repeated any of the idle school-girl babble con- fided to her, and thuis caused no contention bletween pupils and teachers. The Story of anl, Ambitious Girl. 167 In a short space of time she became such 1 treasurer of secrets that had she been of a less calm temperament, she must have overflowed with information to the very walls. Then she was winning, amiable and interesting to all, dis- playing sufficient wit and keenness when occasion required. Thus she was held up as a model by the preceptors to the youthful community, for her persevering application to study, and was equally admired in an enthusiastic girlish manner by the others; for she not only made herself essential to the amusement of the seniors, but assisted the stupid, and sought out each timid little stranger who shrank from the throng, so that glowinll accounts of her virtues were despatched to far off homes by accomplished young misses, as well as scrawling youngsters, as yet ignorant in the art of caligraphy. Among the pupils of this establlishment were two cousins, as unlike in character and appear- ance as possible; the one a dashing brunette with small eyes, glossy braids and high, curved nose; the otlher, frail and delicately lovely, with Nwavingr golden hair, and eves of softest blue. Tli, page: 168-169[View Page 168-169] * / . I 168 What the World Mtade Them. former young lady combined with affected fash- ionable manners a sneering, sarcastic mood, which rendered her anything but agreeable. With the younger, Hortense in her quiet way, soon became intimate, and learned readily her family history and circumstances. Both parents were dead, and she was left to the care of an only brother, much older than herself, who had placed her for a few years under the charge of Mrs. Horton, whose daughter Delia now accompanied her to school. There was a caressing, winning way about this fair girl which won all hearts, although she pos- sessed no extraordinary abilities. Eyen the sternest professor would fain relax when she glanced up from a hopeless task with that plead- ing, pretty face of hers. In her innocent trustful nature, she soon learned to depend entirely on her new friend. With the cousin, Hortense did not succeed so well; Miss Delia was jealous of the admiration so liberally bestowed upon her beauty and ability. Moreover she was unpleasantly suspicious of all her actions and motives, therefore she not only held aloof from the new arrival, but lost no ! I The Story of an Ambitious Girl. 169 opportunity of giving her a sharp thrust, although she generally had the mortification of finding her arguments disregarded by the others. Unlike most scholars who are favorites with the teachers, and who are proportionately disliked and feared by the school faction as spies, Miss Walters ingratiated herself with all, discovering with ready tact the wants and failings of each, and supplying the deficiency quite unostentatiously. Hence she was able to maintain a position tilt few girls have the policy to attain, of commenda- tion from both extremes. She easily overstepped the boundary to win a prize ardently longed for by many a hardworking, young competitor, and then delicately healed the wound of disappoint- ment, so that before many hours each unhappy creature was ready to be her staunchest friend, acknowledging that owing to her superior mind she could not possibly help it. Hortense made several ineffectual attempts to overcome Miss Delia Horton's prejudice without avail, for that young lady, with a toss of her head, declined all friendship, and took further occasion to snub her. Hortense's love of success was rather piqued 8 page: 170-171[View Page 170-171] 170 What the rWorld Made Them. by tlis one check after such unexampled pros- perity, but she determined to bring this last young lady to her side, and waited her opportu- nity. Now Miss Delia was ;excessively susceptible to flattery, so it was not surprising that when the German music master complimented her upon the smallness of her hands and the brilliancy of her eyes, in broken English, and worse French, that she concluded he possessed a much larger share of good sense and penetration, than she had at first given him credit for. She was not at all fond of study, and rather prided herself on being an accomplished coquette, therefore she allowed Herr Weisenbach to blink admiringly at her from weak little eyes behind shining spectacles. Indeed he had rather more worldly wisdom than the young lady herself suspected, for noticing Miss Delia's numerous jewels and listening eagerly to her rather overdrawn accounts of her- self and family, he arrived at-an extravagant estimate of her wealth, as all foreigners are apt to do concerning the fortunes of the American people. The Story of an Ambitious Girl. 171 He then began to adore- more violently than ever, as visions of himself reigning supreme in some lordly palace, composing. symphonies and fugues at his leisure, dawned upon his imagina- tion, instead of being the wretched little drudge he was. Surely it might be worth his while to invite Miss Delia tenderly to meet him in the garden, instead of the prim drawing-room where the lessons were given, with its staring windows conveniently near the ground should bright eyes choose to peep in. Miss Delia, after some deliberation (for she was not a rash girl, or in love with her musical instructor, either) consented to meet him at the garden boundary in the twilight hour, for the incense of flattery at the shrine of her beauty might not easily be resisted. Accordingly, she left. the house while the others were busily con- ning lessons for the next day, crossed the garden, encountering the enthusiastic professor, and lis- tened to his rapturous confessions of unalloyed affection, including 'some vague hints as to the propriety of flying from stern schoolmistress and frowning parents, to some indefinite but more page: 172-173[View Page 172-173] 3172 What the World Made Them. congenial clime. Miss Delia was by no nieans alarmed or embarrassel by this outhurst of long pent-up feelings, on the contrary she listened with the utmost complacency to the tragic recital of Herr Weisenbach's woes, it was all so delightfully romantic. Perceiving that she made no response to his harangue, the rdent little gentleman, to add force to the argument, seized her hand and kissed it. As he did so, Hortense Walters, with a basket of fresh flowers upon her arm, passed slowly by, gave them one calm look from beneath slightly elevated eyebiows, stooped for another rose, and went on. Miss Delia appreciated her position in a moment. If this girl whom she had always slighted, and who must dislike her, reported what she had seen to the principal, her expulsion from the establish- ment was probable, or a public disgrace the very least which would fall to her share, and all for listening to a fool of a music master. Hastily snatching her hand away from the bewildered little professor, who, after staring blankly for a moment,1 scrambled over the fence, leaving his hat on the top rail; Miss Delia turned to follow Hortense. The Story of an Ambitious Girl. 173 May I speak to you a moment? she said, hurriedly. "Certainly," replied the other, arranging some leaves without looking at her discomfited adver- sary. "Only don't detain me long, for I must go to Mrs. Edmunds directly." Miss Delia .grew pale. "Very well! go and tell her all you have seen and heard, like the spy you are," she exclaimed, angrily. To her surprise Hortense answered her calmly. "Don't put yourself in a passion; I have no intention of informing against you." After this the two became firm friends, that is, to outward appearance, for Miss Delia endeavored to propitiate the other, well knowing the storm might burst upon her at any time. As for the little Professor, taking counsel of his past expe- rience, and fearing to lose even his present mod- erate salary altogether, he remained dumb ever after. Thus it was that in the only case where Hor- tense Walters did not win by love, she ruled by fear. Among her admiring schoolmates, none page: 174-175[View Page 174-175] 174 What the. World Made Them. followed her about with such dog-like fidelity as a certain stupid heavy-eyed girl, the only child of a wealthy papa, and who accordingly lived upon delicious confectionery with which her pocket was usually crammed, to the detriment of her health and complexi on. To say that this girl was a profitable parlor boarder, and in a fair way to remain for the rest of her natural life in a bewildered entanglement of the rudimentary branches, would be but the simple truth. Day after day would some patient, careworn instruc- tress rehearse the same fact or problem, the next wave of recreation, or another study, obliterated it like letters on the sand. Miss Matilda speedily conceived a warm affection for Hortense, Nwhich ripened into absolute school-girl idolatry after some slight favor. Did papa send her choice hot-house flowers, or purple and golden clusters of rich scented grapes, they must all be lavished on her new friend. As a natural result the fond parents were duly in- formed in their daughter's vague and incoherent, but frequent epistles, of her undying devotion to Hortense. They felt grateful that any person or The Story of an Ambitious Girl. 175 thing should rouse the girl from her usual apa- thetic indifference, while the school girls would wonder in their blunt fashion, how Hortense Walters could have that stupid creature always haunting her footsteps, and she would tell them sweetly that " she was very glad if she had been the means of assisting Matilda in any way." By and by came papa in stately array of chariot and prancing steeds, and requested to see his daughter's friend. When she presented herself in her radiant beauty, though plainly clad, with her idiotic companion clinging to her in butterfly rai- ment, even the father could not help but notice the painful contrast. He however invited Miss Walters pompously and condescendingly, to visit his daughter at their home in the vacation, antl betook himself again to his chariot, with the soothing reflection that wealth gilds a multitude of faults and deficiencies after all. As for Hor- tense, she thanked him quietly and politely, then went her way again with a demure smile upon her face. So two years more passed away, and at the ex- page: 176-177[View Page 176-177] 176 Whati the Wor/d Made Them. piration of that time I ortense left the establish- ment to return to her home amid universal regret, as her popularity had continued to the very last. She went back to the old house, so small and mean by comparison, hallowed by no tender asso- ciations, herself a stately, and elegant lady. They were all astonished at the change, while Mr. Mitchell was delighted that all his expecta- tions should be more than realized in her improve- ment. "You ought to do something for me now," whined the imbecile father. There are so many of us here, with the youngsters growing up." "Never fear my staying longer than I can help," retorted the daughter, with a bitter smile. Miss Hortense's next move was a visit to the grand home of the importunate Matilda, who had quite exhausted her feeble brains by the number of urgent letters already despatched after her de- parted schoolmate. Mr. Kenneth's country seat was very magnificent,! with its massive carved en- trance, broad drives, sweeping undulations of velvet lawn, profusely bordered and shaded by graceful elms, anciedll-glalled oaks, and clumps The Story of an Ambitious Girl. 1" of sombre pines, while the mansion with its many towers and peaks, and gabled windows, looked like the feudal castles of old. Upon the terrace Miss Matilda welcomed her friend, with the most extravagant demonstrations of joy, while the parents seconded the greeting in a more lofty, patronizing tone, as became great people. The poor girl, with a natural instinct of refine. ment, admired every beautiful article the home of wealth contained; not, however, with such admi- ration as mere abstract beauty commands, but with the keenest pang of envy. She did not realize that in this silken pillow, the dull, idiotic Matilda was a sharp thorn. During this visit Hortense succeeded in making herself so attractive to the parents, and so necessary to the daughter's amusement in many trifling ways, that they gladly offered her a permanent position as Matilda's com- panion. Hortense thanked them with unfeigned gratitude, but her ambition was not satisfied yet. She determined to accept the situation if she could find nothing better. Next Hortense visited Delia and Frances. 8* page: 178-179[View Page 178-179] 178 What the Wrrld Made Them. Mrs. Horton's small pretty cottage, with its shaded paths, tiny la n, and miniature beds of flowers, was as great a contrast to Mr. Kenneth's stately castle, as it is possible for a tiny valley bathed in sunshine, and the bold headland with its lofty outlines and spire-shaped trees to be. All manner of cosy lihtle nooks were to be found unexpectedly, fitted up tastefully with full puffs and frills of muslin ard ribbons, tempting stuffed ottomans, pictures, ani just enough of ornaments not to give the appearance of crowding. The door- ways were draped with graceful folds of curtains, thereby cleverly concealing their narrow propor- tions, while mirrors artfully arranged, reflected ob- jects in such a manner as to present the illusion of numerous other ar hes,. windows, and rooms stretching out into ar indefinite perspective. Al- together Mrs. Horton's cottage, with the aid of excellent managemen:, and its nicely kept grounds, was a perfect little paradise of comfort. It also possessed the additional advantage in Miss Delia's eyes of being in a fashionable locality, so that the young lady could participate in all balls, drives, and excursions. Hortense was hospitably received The Story of an Ambitious Girl. 179 1y Mrs. Horton, who regarded her superb beauty rather doubtfully the while, and Miss Delia, who, in her capricious way, had taken quite a fanciful admiration for a character so ready to forgive in- jury, and secrete so many important things, was also unusually agreeable. As for Frances Leigh she nestled down beside her friend, ready to com- municate to her everything which had transpired since they parted. "We are to have such a very nice time while you are here," she said, "for Charles is coming, and we have told him about you." In a quaint old-fashioned house, with garden adjoining that of Mrs. Horton, lived her venerable mother-in-law, the most restless, malicious old lady imaginable. In fact she was universally supposed to have lived for an indefinite number of years upon snuff, strong coffee, and the sharp thrusts she constantly administered to her dutiful grandchild and patient, though much abused daughter-in-law. One day the capricious little being would pounce into the next house, and put her sharp eyes and nose into every crack and cranny where they were not expected to find their page: 180-181[View Page 180-181] 180 What the Wo;rld Made Them. way; then at the expiration of several hours of anxiety to the whole family, she would perhaps, if in the mood, present one of them with an old jewel of rare value, or a bit of musty lace, and return' home. Then the next day if one of them dared approach her dominion, she would snub them severely. Certainly never did mother and daughter more richly deserve to be finally recom- pensed by a snug fortune at last, than Mrs. Horton and Delia. Yet the difficulty seemed to be that the troublesome old lady would never die as was expected, and surely no more than proper. To. her weary relatives she seemed to grow smaller and more weazened and brisk every year. It was her custom to inform them with a sly chuckle that she felt better, very much better than last spring. Now it happened that as the old dame was ap- proaching her daughter's house one day at an unseasonable hour, wishirg to peer into something new and unexpected after a dull rain storm, she heard Miss Delia exclaim from behind a latticed window, "We shall have a very nice time, if grandmamma don't put in her old nose and spoil it all," which grandmamma duly treasured up as may be supposed. The Story of an Ambitious Girl. 181 The irate old lady, with a galvanic bob on the gravel walk, indicative of wrath unspeakable, shook her clenched fist at the closed window, and the unconscious Miss Delia behind it. Her atten- tion was for the time diverted by the Skye, her sworn enemy, who had no sooner perceived her near approach than he set up a shrill bark, and turned a fiercely contemplative glance upon- her little pointed shoes. In vain she waved her cane at the impertinent beast, he only answered with a defiant growl, and displayed as perfect a set of teeth as could be desired in a little dog's mouth. "( Come here, and stop your beast from biting me!" shrieked old Mrs. Horton passionately, then added tauntingly, "You hateful, growling little dragon!" Oh! most unfortunate family, will you never hear? No, the ladies were too deep in consulta- tion over new dresses to notice the signal of dis- tress, and only Hortense Walters, looking out of a distant window, espied the combatants and flew to the rescue, although in pacifying the now furi- ous dog, she did not escape without severely lacer- ated fingers. page: 182-183[View Page 182-183] 182 What the World Made Them. Trembling with anger the old lady next made a sudden descent upon the dismayed Mrs. Horton. ' Grandmamma will not be putting her nose into your affairs,' for some time to come, you will find. As for this girl who has been hurt by your ugly dog, (I hope he will go raving mad, and bite you all, to pay for keeping such a raging brute!) I shall take her home with me at once. Perhaps I may come in during the summer months, if you shoot that creature, but if you cannot part with your darling pet, you must with me." So saying she departed in triumph, dragging Hortense per force with her. When the young lady returned at night-for not until night would ller gracious hostess part with her-there was a marked difference in her reception. Mrs. Horton was rather stiff, and Miss Delia not a little sulky. Hortense readily divined that to preserve amity in both houses would be difficult, perhaps impossible, nevertheless she must try. "Dear Mrs. Horton," she said frankly, ' you cannot imagine how it pains me to be a cause of discord between you and your mother-in-law, but indeed, I could not help assisting her when the dog growled so fiercely." The Story of an Ambitious Girl. 8 "Of course, my dear, it was not your fault," acknowledged Mrs. Horton, quite mollified by her humility. Next day mother and daughter paid a visit of ceremony to their ancient relative. The two pro- ceeded to her boundary line, ,where they found her tyrannizing over the gardener, who was mak- ing some alteration in her premises. 4 I don't want any of your nonsense in par- terres, with roses planted in hearts and diamonds to look sentimental, I suppose, like my fanciful daughter-in-law," she said as they approached. "Oh! you have killed your dog, eh?" looking at them. "I assure you, mother, he will trouble you no more, for he is--" Through the hedge at this very moment bound- ed the small reprobate, who immediately began to snap and growl at his former enemy. The old lady became furious, and Miss Delia, not a little embarrassed that her pet should have escaped from the temporary banishment to which he had been subjected. "You had better go home again with your ugly page: 184-185[View Page 184-185] 184 What the World Made Them. beast, and not burden your conscience with another fib." "' I will have him killed immediately, grand- mamma, indeed I will," sobbed Miss Delia. "It is all my fault, for I could not bear to have him shot." ' You needjnot on my account, you snivelling simpleton. Go back, and don't let me see your face here again." After summarily dismissing her relatives, she set to work, with malicious old wits, to devise how she might punish them so they would remember it. She sent for Hortense as the first instrument of an- noyance presenting itself, and also a request that as Mrs. Horton kept more servants than she did herself,. she would despatch one of the number in search of her lawyer Mr. Budget, for she wished to make some important alterations in her will. On the servant's return with tidings of Mr. Bud- get's absence, she ordered him back again to leave word for the lawyer to come to her on business of the utmost importance. Having set the machinery well in motion, and made the next house as she very well knew, a bed ,t The Story of an' Ambitious Girl. 185 of thorns for its apprehensive inmates, she was ready for a chat with Hortense. "You are looking rather pale, what is the mat- ter?" she inquired, eyeing her keenly through her spectacles. "Has that stupid Charles Leigh been making love to you?" "Nothing nearly so serious, madam. I merely have a slight headache," replied Hortense, smil- ing. "' Yes, but he will, though, never fear but that he will," continued the lady, nodding her head wisely, and rubbing her little wrinkled hands. "He will not love you any too much, mind, but he is forty, my dear, and requires a wife for his new house. Humph! you are a handsome girl, to be sure. How would you like a journey to the Springs, eh?" she added abruptly. "To the Springs, Mrs. Horton?" "Ay! to the Springs with me," repeated the other gleefully. "I feel the need of mineral waters to restore me to health, I am so very feeble now. Besides, it is my duty to preserve my strength for their sakes, who love me so devotedly, and my money more. I want a page: 186-187[View Page 186-187] 186 What the World Made Them. young companion to accompany me, and you would answer very well to amuse me. Wiat do you say? You shall have new silks, new ball dresses, and a chance to make your market elegantly dressed. Ha! am I not a good, generous old creature when I choose to be!" Hortense feared that the old lady had grown a trifle flighty, and after the plan had been dis- cusssed, she returned to the other house to con- sider it in all lights before accepting it. If she availed herself of this advantageous offer, there must certainly be a coolness ever after with the other family. If she refused, there was the alternative of returning to Mr. Kenneth's house as a companion. After all, what could be better than to avail herself of this arrangement, although she was perfectly aware that it was con- cocted to torment the others, to stake all on this move, and break with the Horton family if necessary? They had proved one round in the ascent of the ladder, why not now go on to the next above them? In all these schemings she did not allow a single thought of home to interfere. The old The Story of an Ambitious Girl. 187 lady arranged everything with the most malicious glee. She provided a handsome wardrobe for Hortense, such as she had never given her grand- daughter in days of highest favor; and then to make the blow more suddenly crushing in effect, she quietly sent for the girl to visit her for a few days. It was a difficult game, but the young lady played it well; so, calmly disregarding thun- derclouds on the horizon, she went with her little workbasket only on her arm. Then came a confirmation for the exasperated family's hopes and fears, though in a different way from any anticipated. The old lady sent word to them that she was about to visit thl Springs in company with her dear young friend, and that her house would be closed for as long a time-as she chose to stay away. Miss Delia was fairly beside herself, and her mother no less enraged at this new and dangerous caprice of the old woman. Hortense also, came in for a share of their wrath for consenting to enjoy herself at their expense, although they readily divined how good a move it would be for her. She wrote them a charming little note,-for the page: 188-189[View Page 188-189] 188 What the World Made Them. old lady would not allow her to return even for her luggage-in which she stated with engaging frankness, that of course it was absolutely necessary for her to accept such an invitation in her position, concluding with the consoling assur- ance that there was no danger of Mrs. Horton's fancying her to their detriment, for she had done nothing more serious than alter the lease of some houses when she sent for the lawyer. Thus far they might be relieved then, yet they could not help feeling that it was by no means improbable that lgrandmamma might make serious alterations in favor of the interesting girl about to be her companion for an indefinite time to come, neither did they relish Hortense's alleged reason for not returning to them; it looked very much as if she dreaded a scolding. Whatever disagreeable feelings were left behind, it apparently had no influence upon them, for Mrs. Horton and Miss Walters went away in the best possible spirits. During the journey the elder was as brisk and active as ever. She seemed the younger in consequence. Before long, in one of their morning drives The Story of an Ambitious Girl. 189 they encountered Charles Leigh. After an absence of several days he had returned to his aunt's house, to find the fortunate girl whom he had now resolved to honor with his house and lands, already gone, and to a place where she might easily marry. He felt just sufficient jealousy of the Springs and its frequenters, to wish to secure his prize. So that very night when Hortense appeared at a ball, superbly beau- tiful in a cloud of snowy drapery, Mr. Leigh was actually dazzled; and proposing for her hand, was unhesitatingly accepted, all amid the whirl of dancers and brilliant strains of music. So Hortense plucked the golden fruit, became a lady clad in the richest robes, associated with the people she had regarded with admiration from afar, in her earlier youth, and folund them singu- larly dull, oftentimes as mean and petty as the poor. Her own family she would never permit to approach her, because she dreaded the sneers of this well-bred world in which she moved as the elegant Mrs. Leigh, although she set aside a small sum from her private purse for their assistance." page: 190-191[View Page 190-191] 190 What the World Made Them. "Didn't she ever see them again?" asked Marion, as Mrs. Maudeville paused. ' Once she was travelling with some friends, and passing through a small town near her former home, among the crowd on the platform she dis- tinctly beheld her mother, shabby, faded and old; yet not for the world could she have astonished her companions by uttering the word of recogni- tion-mother-to that work-worn woman. "I never heard of any one's being ashamed of their own mother before," said Marion thought- fully. "Did you not?" returned Mrs. Maudeville with a peculiar expression like the sudden darken- ing of a passing pain crossing her features. "The daughter tried to stifle the stings of con- science by sending a larger sum to the old home, and then she received a letter, simply and plainly written by a younger sister, in which the money was proudly rejected; Mr. Walters, the only one who had ever accepted it, being dead, and the others intending to support the mother by their own labor. "That is the story of a girl whose ambition The Story of an Ambitious Girl. 191 was false to the core, and founded on the merest selfish vanity, and who having penetrated the beautiful velvet rind of the fruit, found it the bitterest ashes of disappointment. A life ab- sorbed in itself, yielding no warmth of gener- ous love to others, cannot hope to reap any sym- pathetic affection in return. "'Dust are our frames; and gilded dust our pride, Looks only for a moment whole and sound, Like that long buried body of the king, Which at the touch of light, an air of heaven, Slipt into ashes, and was found no more. " When Mrs. Maudeville finished the story, she went to the window and leaned her face against the glass, while Marion remained lost in thought. "Am I like that girl, Mrs. Maudeville? "Certainly not." "She married a rich old man, Mrs. Maude- ville." "Which no girl should ever do, unless she respects and loves him," she interrupted with her head still turned away. "Oh! do you think so?" cried Marion eagerly. page: 192-193[View Page 192-193] 192 What the World Made Them. "I ought to know," returned Mrs. Maude ville coming slowly back to her seat. Marion saw for the first time that her com- panion, the stately lady she had always admired with the ardor of enthusiastic youth for more mature loveliness, looked old. Time had not touched the soft, full outline of her face with a defacing hand, but a shadow rested there, a shadow as of years lived through, not all in sun- shine,-years that had left behind memories of bitter pain, and, with all the rest, a fretting unrest of remorse that curved tiny deep furrows on the smooth surface; c"What shall I do?" pleaded Marion, forget- ting Aunt Maud's cautions in this powerful new influence. "My child, don't allow yourself hastily to take a step of which you will repent all your life," said Mrs. Maudeville, putting her arm around the girl, and kissing her affectionately. The clock warned Marion that she must return home, and nothing more was said, although Mr. Maudeville might well feel that his sister-in-law had damaged his cause. The Story of an Ambitious Girl. 193 Marion's replies were brief to Aunt Maud's inquiries, but she appeared brighter than she had done for along while. "Strange that Mrs. Maudeville was alone," reflected Aunt Maud. In the privacy of her own room all the pent up energy of Marion's nature, which had remained dormant for a year, was roused. I believe Mrs. Maudeville was telling the story of her own life," she thought. What had ambition brought to her? Discon- tent, because such advantages as she possessed were overlooked in the absorbing interests of self. For Mrs. Maudeville, work was at hand; lifting by a feather's weight even, the great bur- then of human sorrow, want and misery. Instead, she withdrew into her own soul, dwelling with morbid regret on the errors of past years, repining over blessings lost, and sitting before the portrait of a dead child in useless grief, instead of seeking relief in helping outcast living children. To Marion, wealth was not the temptation it might have. been to a poor girl, who had never tasted the golden fruit, and dreamed only of, the 9 page: 194-195[View Page 194-195] 194 What the World Made Them. sweet flavor without heeding the possible sharp thorns. She missed everything she had once enjoyed, yet the struggle between inclination and duty, with her, was the powerful motive of helping Alfred. After all, could she not in some other way? Before the week had elapsed after which Mr. Maudeville'was to receive an answer to his suit, Marion Ford ran away from Aunt Maud's house, simply through dread of that lady's displeasure. She left a little note: "DEAR AUNT MAUD.-DO not be angry with me for going away. I hope I shall never have another offer. I think I should like to be an old maid. "Your affectionate niece, MAY." Mrs. Carlton was in despair. "She will come back, soon, though." But Marion never came back, and she was not with Alfred, or Michael, or Miss Mitty. Mr. Powell's Store. 195 CHAPTER XT. MR. POWELL'S STORE. DURING this year Alfred Ford had not been idle, and yet at its close in glancing back, he seemed to have made very little progress. If work, steady and unflinching, could have availed, he had done his part faithfully; but unfortunately industry may be misdirected, or take the course of an unprofitable channel. Alfred had no experi- ence, and at the time of his father's death had chosen no profession, although all his preference at that period was for the study of law. Mr. Manning had agreed to take him into his office and house during the necessary years of prepara- tion in legal studies, but Alfred hastily declined the generous offer in his anxiety to leave his old home, where every association of the town would be painful to him. Afterward such a decision may have been re- gretted, but then the world seemed a wide field of page: 196-197[View Page 196-197] 196 What the World Made Them. enterprise to the youth, going forth to seek his fortune on the public highways of traffic. Mr. Manning next used his influence to obtain a place for Alfred in an office in the great city, which he gratefully accepted, and occupied for three months. After that he became discouraged with the task he had undertaken, not in a desire -to evade the close application necessary, but doubts beset him of his efforts meeting with suc- cess, if his own abilities were great enough to dis- tinguish him above other eager young aspirants of fame. He could not afford to waste precious time now in a profession that would involve so much delay and uncertainty. . He must provide for him- self and Marion. How greatly he regretted the lost hours and wasted opportunities of his college career If he had only decided on some one branch of study, and have gained that much for the present struggle, when he seemed to drift amidst a thous- and perplexing projects, undecided as to which was best, or which he might be fitted to undertake, instead of being blindly led, permitting Harold Carlton even to think for him. Frivolity and folly irremediable, now that it was too late. Mr. Powell's Store. 197 If Alfred had asked further advice from older, wiser heads, he would have avoided many a hidden rock of danger which all but shattered the sturdy young craft buoyed up by the elasticity of youth- ful spirits. But after he quitted the lawyer's em- ploy, Alfred kept his own counsel, holding no communication with Mr. Manning, determined to climb the rough, steep ascent unaided. In this proud attitude of self-reliance, he was not actuated as much by over self-confidence, as a dread of asking advice that might be construed into seeking assistance. To stand alone, as far as Alfred Ford was able to read the hard problem, consisted in being enrolled in the list of clerks in a large dry goods establishment, thankfully receiving the small pay in return, only too grateful that no stain on his reputation in other well known business places prevented his filling a post behind the counter. All day long he sorted ribbons, and measured silks for capricious ladies difficult to please, and when night came sought shelter in a large, faded old house, in a dirty, noisy street, far removed from Aunt Maud's house, where the organs ground out dreary, jangling tunes, and page: 198-199[View Page 198-199] i98 What the' World Made Tlem. wild children swarmed in the gutters. Alfred was willing to serve an exacting employer, a gray- haired, stern-featured old man, who had risen by his industry from a penniless boy, and who still kept his own accounts with a keen glance every where to detect negligence. If the rich man, whose whole life was engrossed within the limits of his fine shop, had felt more c6nfidence in human nature, been less harsh in judging the de- linquences of others, less ready to believe that thQ whole 'outside world was conspiring to cheat him, he would possibly have been a happier man. The young man reared in idleness did his task credita- bly, but he wearied of the restraint, the monotony of an apparently endless routine, which did not interest him, or prevent his gazing wistfully into the busy street, longing for freedom. He bore the distasteful surroundings of the poor boarding house, where he gladly retreated from the crowded dining-room with its atmosphere of cooking vege- tables and stale fish, to his own small room, barren and cheerless enough, preferring its solitude to the society of dark-bearded foreigners in the cigar and fruit-importing interest, editors of un- Mr. Powell's Store. 199 successful journals, ladies who had seen better days, and still feebly boasted of some one great relative who had conveniently forgotten them, poor souls! Alfred found no more pleasure in contemplating his landlady,--a pale, depressed woman, with an inefficient husband -and large family to support, for there was something in her abstracted gaze when presiding behind hler tea- urn, that implied she was always confronting bankruptcy in a dejected way. He was willing to take all these trials as present evils to be conquered by steady persistency and cheerful courage. Gradually, however, a chilling conviction forced itself upon him. It was bread for to-day, a bare supplying of present need as exemplified in decent clothing and the smallest room of the cheap boarding house, but would to-morrow be any dif- ferent? He had only to glance around him to see that men had grown gray in the same capacity that he served in behind the counter, measuring new silk dresses, because they could not afford to throw away a certainty, cramped by ever present necessity, for the possible gain a change might yield. ! page: 200-201[View Page 200-201] 200 What the World Made Them. Alfred asked himself repeatedly, amidst the hum of business, and in the stillness of night, where it would all end? How much nearer should he be to winning back the old place at the expiration ofithirty years, or having Marion under his own care in the interval, than he was the day he left it? With the doubt of such a conviction Alfred's spirits flagged, and his appetite failed him. He was losing his grasp on that great anchor- hope. l The intercourse between brother and sister was not of a very intimate or confidential nature. Alfred did not tell Marion where he lived, it would only distress her unnecessarily; and he discour- aged her visiting him at his place of business, fearing some ill-natured remarks, either from his brother clerks, or the severe employer. Some- times he dined on Sunday with Aunt Maud, but very seldom; and it was curious that he avoided seeing Harold, if possible, on these occasions. Sometimes he met Marion, and they rambled to- gether in a retired park, talking over various plans for the future; and then they parted to go their several ways, the sister obliged to content herself Mr. Powell's Store. 201 for the week with writing little letters to a post office address, which the brother answered in the evenings by the aid of a faint light from a battered bracket in the soiled wall, on the top of a pine bureau, while the foreign residents of the house strummed on guitars, and sang, in unknown tongues, national melodies. A crisis was rapidly approaching. For days Alfred had been suffering from the feverish effects of a cold, caught in the exposure of a severe storm; but he slighted the warning symptoms of illness, for he well knew that the penalty of ab- sence from his place was a severe one,-his em- ployer having no faith in the ailments of his clerks being induced by anything but a desire to evade work. Alfred had a nodding acquaintance with most of his companions, which was assumed on entering the store, and left behind 'when departing, as they all went their several ways. He often talked with his next neighbor behind the same counter, a tall youth of a florid complexion, who had entered upon his duties with sanguine briskness of bear- ing, but whose spirits seemed to be gradually flag- 9* page: 202-203[View Page 202-203] 202 What the World Made Them. ging of late, much as the machinery of a clock runs down from its first energetic movement, to final silence. Novelty was the key that wound up this young gentleman, and a tedious sameness of daily routine the weight that dragged him heavily downward. This is terrible slow," commented Mr. Wel- lington Sharpe, leaning back languidly against a bulwark of scarlet flannel, and yawning drearily. "If a fellow had any capital to start for the West, or the Pacific slope, there would be some fun in it." True," assented Alfred with a sigh. But another young man from the hosiery region, with his flaxen hair parted in the middle, and his whis- kers carefully curled, who had crossed the shop to borrow a pencil, held a different opinion. "What! go into some wilderness, and be a farmer or grocer, where you never see the last Pew actress or singer? No, I thank you." Alfred thought that these pleasures were pur- chased at a dear price, remaining in a crowded city where more young men were seeking employ- ment than could well be employed, arid the de- ! - Mr. Powell's Store. 203 light of seeking the freshest theatrical star from some low-priced gallery, could hardly compensate for the narrow limits of such apparently unprofit- able drudgery. Wellington Sharpe's glance having wandered about the store without any ray of interest, sud- denly fel on the figure of a shabbily dressed old woman entering the door, with an expression of alarm. He became violently busy all at once, al- though no customers had yet appeared, and when the old woman paused, seating herself on a stool befbre Alfred, he searched for some lost article on the floor so intently, that only the crown of his head was visible. "Can I show you anything, madam?" said Alfied. " Yes, yes," she replied, peering significantly at Mr. Wellington Sharpe through her spectacles, "it's all very well to dress fine if you can afford it, and I s'pose you can if you don't pay your, debts." Alfred listened in amused silence. "Can I see the head man here?" continued the queer old lady, taking a crumpled paper from her bag, which looked like a bill. page: 204-205[View Page 204-205] 2 204 What the World Made Tilem. "If you go to his private office upstairs," said Alfted. "We shall see what can be done," she said threateningly, and hobbled away. All her remarks had been directed to Alfred; not once had she spoken to the other young man. When she had turned away, Mr. Sharpe seized his hat, and vaulted over the counter with a very red face and troubled look. "I will be back soon," he said hastily, and darted away. "But it isn't fair to leave all the work for me," called Alfred indignantly. Mr. Sharpe did not pause however. Half an hour later a cash boy told Alfred he was wanted upstairs. "Guess the boss wants to settle with you," said the cash boy, with chubby-faced indifference to the misfortunes of others, as long as hard fate ordained that he could only furtively jingle the marbles in his own pmcket, instead of openly playing with them. Alfred went slowly upstairs with a heavy heart. What had he done to be summoned into the terri- ble presence of Mr. Powell? He walked behind a railing which screened several grave, careworn ( Mr. Powell's Store. 205 looking men busy with books and papers, and paused before a high desk to hear his sentence from the store manager seated there. "Are you the young man from the silk coun- ter?" "Yes, sir." "Did you have some conversation with an old woman this morning?" "I did sir." ' Had you ever seen her before?" "Never." "Humph! she evidently knew you, however. Mr. Powell does not require your services any longer. I am to pay you up to the end of the month." Alfred turned white to the very lips; still he commanded his voice sufficiently to inquire, ' What is my offence, sir?" "I don't know. I was ordered to summon the clerk from the silk counter who had been recog- nised bv the old woman. Did she speak to any one else? "Not to my knowledge. She asked me if she could see Mr. Powell." page: 206-207[View Page 206-207] 206 What the World Made Them. ' It is none of. my business. You can wait until he passes through here, if you choose," and the superintendent resumed his own labors. Presently Mr. Powell's door opened, and he came out followed by a man carrying a package of rich shawls. Alfred approached him. "Will you tell me why I am discharged, sir?" "I am determined to make an example of you," said -Mr. Powell, peremptorily, "and I shall not be appealed to again in a similar way. I give all my young men enough salary to pay for their bread and butter; twice as much money as I had at your age, and I was never in debt." There must be some mistake, I don't under- stand," began Alfred in bewilderment." "' Very likely not," retorted Mr. Powell drily. "You think I am to put up with everything. You are from the silk counter?" "Yes sir." "I dismiss you." "But there are two of us there," said Alfred in despair. Mr. Powell had passed on, and was deep in consultation over the shawls. He made an impa- Mr. Poweli's Store. 207 tient gesture when Alfred attempted to speak fur- ther, and the young man, deeply offended at such injustice, drew back in silence. "I will leave this place at all hazards, where I can be accused of some offence, and not even be allowed to defend myself," he thought bitterly, then went down into the shop again, and out into the street. "What's up?" asked the flaxen-haired clerk, opening his blue eyes to their utmost width. "'I am discharged.'- "Why?" "Don't know." Alfred rushed out into the street. Where should he go? What could he do without credentials from Mr. Powell? He turned his steps towards Mrs. Carlton's house, longing to tell Marion all his troubles, and this impulse lent wings to his feet, although his head throbbed, and the- dry cough that had annoyed him for days, frequently interrupted his breathing. When he reached the door, he wheeled about abruptly. What was the use of troubling her? page: 208-209[View Page 208-209] 208 What the W]orld IMade Them. It was cowardly to lay his burden on a girl's slender shoulders when he could easily bear it alone. Alfred was sick and lonely and dispirited; it required considerable resolution to turn away without a word of sympathy from a warm heart, so ready to enter into all his interests, and share the trials of his present lot with him, but he con- quered the yearning, and walked rapidly on. Mr. Powell's clerk was seldom at liberty to ramble through the, gay thoroughfares at this hour, and Alfred recalled, with some bitterness, the occasions when he had strolled out in com- pany with his dashing cousin Harold: a recollec- tion that came back all the more vividly from seeing one of his former friends pass, dark circles and shadows furrowing his jaded young face, a listless lack of interest or' animation betrayed by every languid movement. - Ah! how are you?" he said, touching his hat in a slight bow of recognition, as if he remem- bered vaguely having seen Alfred somewhere. "I would rather be in my place, than that poor puppy's," thought Alfred. ' I can at least be a- manT I hope, and he never will." , -Mr. Powell s Store. 209 This idea gave him fresh courage. He had not heard from Marion for a week, and now that no small white envelope fluttered out through the post-office window to-day, he wandered on dis- consolately to take a seat on the bench of a park, where other idle wanderers were lounging. The chilling, shadows of dusk found him still seated there, and with aching frame he finally sought the shelter of his own room; dreading the dawn of another morrow. When the morning came he was seriously ill, and lay in the little room breathing painfully, while the untidy but good-natured chambermaid tried to arrange him more comfortably, by dark- ening the window, and bringing him a cup of -weak, sloppy coffee. At midnight he had awakened from an uneasy slumber with a violent spasm of pain in the chest, making him gasp and struncle into an erect posture. He called feebly for help, but nobody heard or responded. Alarmed at the thought that he might die there alone, Alfred dragged himself to the wall, and rapped upon it with an umbrella handle. A muttered exclamation sounded drowsily from page: 210-211[View Page 210-211] 210 What the World Made Them. the other side of the partition, and finally a dark, Spanish face, appeared sleepily at the door. One glance at Alfred was sufficient to send the for- eigner hastily down stairs to summon the land- lady, and then he rushed out into the deserted streets for the nearest physician. When the doc- tor arrived he drained Alfred's veins of the warm life blood, leaving him weak and pale, helplessly resting among the pillows. "Have you friends you would like to see?" asked the landlady, who meant to do her duty as well as she could with so many other cares, but foresaw illness. ' Yes;" replied Alfred with some hesitation. I would- rather not tell them just yet, though." "' You might give me the address," suggested the landlady. Suppose this young man should die, who would pay the doctor's bill? It seemed a hard view to take of the matter, but the landlady, embar- rassed by extreme poverty, was obliged to think of such things. "To-morrow," said the invalid. Alfred lay there placid tlrough sheer weak- . Mr. Powiell's Store. 2" ness, wondering what would be the next page in this curious volume of life, and once tears streamed down his cheeks when he thought how pleasant it would be to have his sister hoveringr about his lonely bedside, which he would have been ashamed to shed in his strength of yester- day. How could he bear to have Aunt Maud rustle through tie dusty halls, where coal scuttles and brooms were always tripping up the unwary stranger, and climb the uncarpeted stairs to his abode? After a time :he fell asleep, and when he awakened again, who should be beside the bed but Wellington Sharpe, regarding his altered appearance with interest and concern. '"I have behaved like a sneak," he said frankly. "The old woman wanted me, all the while, you know, because I did owe her a small board bill; but I thought if I dodged out, she would go away, and I might be able to pay it by and by, only she has got tired of waiting. I never dreamed of her going to Mr. Powell, you may be sure, and he, instead of paying her out of my wages, as she hoped he would, discharged page: 212-213[View Page 212-213] 212 What the World Made Them. me. You would have been all right if you had given your name; Wellington Sharpe was dis- charged, and the mistake was the fault of the cash bov." I do not see how I was taken as the culprit," said Alfred. "Easy enough to be seen," responded young Sharpe. "Clerk from the silk counter, and you standing there alone. You can go back there any time, if you are not sick too long." " What will you do?" asked Alfred. "I have other plans. I am tired of that hum- drum place, and I've meant to leave for a long while. Can't I do something for you? Capital restaurant down cellar on the next block; sup- pose I get you some oysters, or a broiled bird? When I live in this way, I take my meals out, I can tell you." His presence was cheerful, and his desire to do something for the stranger he had got into a scrape, evidently sincere. I' don't feel hungry, thank you," returned Alfred, feebly. "I don't suppose you mind my having some Mr. Powell's Store. 213 nlnch, though, do you? And if you should take a fancy to taste a bit, all the better." He winked drolly, and departed with a laugh, as if it was all nonsense for the other to be lying there, pale and weak. Alfred, feeling brighter for his society, wondered if matters were so dreadful after all. In an incredibly short space of time Mr. Sharpe returned, carrying a tray, which he placed on a battered washstand, spread a tempting array of dishes, and invited Alfred cordially to partake. "There " he exclaimed, surveying the feast witl great satisfaction, " wonder if your old landlady down stairs would lend a fellow the pepper jug!" He dived down, and reappeared, bounding up three stairs at a time with great agility, carrying the pepper in one hand, and a vinegar cruet in the other. "Perhaps you want some vinegar on your head, if it aches. I've heard my mother say it is good, put on brown paper, or with a towel, I don't remember exactly which." The visitor began to eat with good appetite, page: 214-215[View Page 214-215] 214 What the World Made Them. while Alfred delicately nibbled a bit of tough toast. Wellington, who was of a remarkably easy, confiding nature, told Alfred all the particulars of his history, with his mouth full of leathery oyster fritters and cold ham. His family lived in one of the suburbs; there were four sons and two daughters, all of whom went their several ways, quite independent of each other, it seemed. "Take you out home when you get better. The old gentleman will be delighted to see you, and he has such capital ideas. I have tried this clerk place, in a regular employment as they call it, just to please mother, and you see what it all amounted to. I knew I was not fitted for it." Alfred wondered if this might not be in some measure his own fault, quite as much as the pur- suit. chosen. When the luncheon was des- patched, the new friend wished to know what he could do for his comfort further. "Perhaps if you would go to my sister, and tell her that I am not very sick, but I should like to see her very much, without frightening her." "I understand. I'm your man," answered Wellington, promptly. Mr. Powell's Store. 215 He was not absent more than two hours, and returned with a long face. '"Your sister left Mrs. Carlton's sometime ago, and I did not ask for the other lady, ac,-ording to directions." "Where cal she have gone?" cried Alfied in alarm. As if in reply a tap sounded on the door, and Marion peeped in. "I have found you," she exclaimed, exult- ingly; then paused, suddenly shocked to find Alfied sick. '"This is the way you keep your promise of sending for me in sickness, is it?" The sister looked a little jealously at Welling- ton Sharpe, as much as to say, "I will take your place, if you please." "But May, I have just sent to Aunt Maud's; myfriend here, was so good as to look you up, and he did not find you there." - "True," assented Marion, with a complacent air of mystery. "I don't live there now." page: 216-217[View Page 216-217] 216 What the World Made Them. CHAPTER XII. MARION'S FLIGHT. 'WHEN Marion Ford left her aunt's house, she was not actuated by one of her frequent wild impulses. She did not take any of her clothes, except such few articles as were easily folded in a small leather bag, but she gathered up -all her jewelry carefully, slipping pretty bracelets on her arms beneath her sleeves, studding the front of her dress with ruby, pearl, and coral brooches, and even concealing a costly necklace about her throat. Altogether she was a much more valuable young lady than one would have supposed, when she issued forth from Mrs. Carlton's door early in the morning, soberly clad. It would be easy to return for her wearing apparel, she reasoned, after Aunt Maud's first wrath had cooled, and Mr. Mandeville begun to be forgotten. In the meanwhile Marion assured herself she had work to do; she had been idle long enough. Marion's Fliht. 217 Her education had not fitted her for anvthilg. She was not a good musician, her knowledge of languages was superficial, while the solid rudi- ments of grammar and mathemetics were terribly deficient. What could she do then? Why, return to ler one talent of painting, of course, which she had neglected of late. Make herself a great artist, sell ler pictures at a high price, and do all sorts of nice things with the money. Marion held her head high in the air when she thought of it. 'Once out of Aunt Maud's house, she walked rapidly towards Madame Latour's school. ' It is quite romantic to run away from home," she thought, ".only one usually has a lover," and she smiled rather grimly at the idea that the ven- erable Mr. Maudeville was the only person at all likely to elope with her. Marion had no intention of appealing to Madame Latour for assistance; her pride, and Aunt Maud's horror of such a measure prevented. She drew a black lace veil closely over her face when she rang the bell, hoping no person would recognize her. A great deal. of good in fitting 10 page: 218-219[View Page 218-219] 2181 Wha he World Made Them. her for future trials Madame's genteel instructions in deportment had done! Marion felt like deliv- ering a most startling lecture in the. schoolroom, urging the girls still there to learn one thing thor- oughly at least, having in view the dark day when they might depend on it for bread. A strange servant opened the door, and Marion asked for the address of Miss Penniman, the painting teacher. The number and street were given, and furnished with the direction, the young girl hastened to find her former kind teacher. Miss Penniman was very poor, and lived inr one small nook of a large lodging house, where the subterfuges of poverty were everywhere plainly apparent. The plain, sensible artist, for whom all the bright dreams of youth had faded long ago, did not live in Madame Latour's family as she otherwise might have done, because all the money she, could earn, every leisure moment she could spare, were devoted to the comfort of an old, in- firm mother. In this world, Miss Penniman bore the cross with patient resignation, and we will hope may hereafter wear the crown, for her unselfish cheerfulness. Marion's Flight. 219 The mother was not a sweet, gentle old lady; she was a confirmed, peevish invalid, fretting per- - petually over luxuries she missed, and blind to the comforts she had. In the depressing, gloomy at- mosphere of discontent in which she wrapped her- self, nothing seemed to afford her garrulous old age so much satisfaction as sighing over departed prosperity, harping on one sensitive chord until her daughter's self control was taxed to the utmost limit of endurance. In all the dark hours of toil and anxiety, Miss Penniman's hope was kept alive in a pure bright flame, by a dream: unreal and delusive it might prove after years of weary watching, yet nerving her to the daily routine. She was a thorough artist, with a refined perception of the beautiful in all branches of art, and her sole ambition beyond doing her duty, was to hoard every penny in a slender fund, and one day visit the galleries of the old world, where the works of imperishable genius were treasured. Poor Miss Penniman! it lightened many a heavy sorrow to dream of this enjoyment, although the traveling fund increased very slowly with the page: 220-221[View Page 220-221] 220 What the World Made Them. constant drains on it for medicine, and the wages of a woman to take care of the feeble, complain- ing patient, during her absence at school. It was one of those sad cases 'where life lingers, a burden to the household and the possessor, although in the present instance affection held these two lonely women together firmly. Miss Penniman had no parlor; indeed, neither the scale on which she lived, nor the number of visits she received, demanded any such pretense of style. She had a tiny kitchen, and a tiny living- room, and when her former pupil tapped at the door, Miss-Penniman's voice said, "Come in." The interior of the room was plain, but very neat. By the window sat old Mrs. Penniman in a rocking chair, sighing dismally, and shaking her head over some imaginary grievance, while through the open doorway of the adjoining kitchen Miss Penniman was plainly visible, bending over a small tub, washing. "I beg your pardon, I don't wish to intrude," bbga i Marion, fearing that her presence might annoy the teacher, who had seen her last amid far different scenes. 'M'urion's Flight. 221 "Some stranger, Priscilla," said Mrs. Penni- man, nervously flurried in manner. But Miss Pennimnan was not embarrassed. She was not at all ashamed of her honest poverty. Her plain, wholesome face lighted up with a smile of welcome to see Marion, who had been a favorite pupil. She made no apologies, which are often as painful to the intruder as to the hostess, and when Marion proposed seating herself on a stool in the kitchen to communicate her business, she readily assented, although the mother, who had many false notions of gentility, audibly groaned. "I am busy," said Miss Penniman. I don't have much time out of school, and I avail myself of such a holiday as this gladly." Marion thought Miss Penniman's holiday rather a sober one, rinsing tablecloths and napkins to lessen the washerwoman's bill. "Do you remember your Beatrice Cenci, which you never finished, my dear?" said the teacher, making a little avenue of clothes line and damp linen from the door to the mantelpiece. Yes,?' said Marion, blushing, and laughing; "the prize composition put that out of my head.' page: 222-223[View Page 222-223] 222 What the World Made Them. Miss Penniman opened a box, and took out the unfinished picture with a smile of quiet amuse- ment. - Oh, you poor, dear Beatrice!" exclaimed Marion. "I will finish your nose directly if Miss Penniman will let me." After that she told the practical teacher her plan, tinted with all the warm, glowing colors of her enthusiastic temperament. "I want to support myself, and live with my brother.. Oh dear! I wish we could keep house in this way. Wouldn't it be fun!" ' Not all fun; still, you might get along very well." Miss Penniman knew nothing of Marion's cir- cumstances, which the latter informed her were very much changed since she left Madame's school. The girl had some talent, and wished to become an artist, while under her care she would be safe. Marion took off her hat, and dined with the mother and daughter at a little round table, while old Mrs. Penniman brightened wonderfully in her society, for teacher and pupil talked about the school, relating many amusing anecdotes, which Marion's Flight. 223 she had never heard before, as her daughter was rather a silent person. Before night the whole plan was completed. Miss Penniman had made arrangements with the landlord that Marion should have three rooms adjoining her own, at a reasonable price, and then the question of furnishing them arose. "This can be my kitchen, this Alfred's room, and mine will have to answer for studio and parlor for the present. Perhaps when I have sold ever so many pictures, I may afford another room, and make it a real parlor," said Marion, as pleased with her plan as a child with a new toy, or a blooming rose with the crimson petals con- cealing the sharp thorns. Miss Penniman looked at the sanguine young girl compassionately; still she did not chill the sunshine by suggesting grave doubts of success. Often the patient painting teacher felt the dawn- ing impulse of power stirring within her own breast, to transfer upon the canvas some of her own imagination, but she never had time; even her hours at home were so fully occupied with the cares of her tiny household. page: 224-225[View Page 224-225] 224 What the fWorld Made Them. 4 You have no baggage?" she asked. "This is my baggage for the present," laughed Marion, holding up the leather bag. "I can pay my own expenses, though, Miss Penniman," she added quickly. ' The first thing is to furnish the place, then. You are sure, my dear, that you will not repent in a week." Marion smiled at the idea. "I am not a baby." "No," replied Miss Penniman, "but I dare- say you know very little of the world.' Marion felt rather indignant. Had she lived nineteen yearsa for nothing, then? Miss Penni- man meant by the world, the rougher side of it, where all the ugly knots and seams of motives are plainly visible,-the only side she had ever seen-although some lives come in contact only with the soft velvet surface. Miss Penniman did not see everything clearly in this transition exist- ence, which was to her a vale of suffering, but she had a firm faith that when the valley of shadows was safely past, in God's light she should see it was all for the best. Marion's Flight. 225 Marion was reluctant to return again to Aunt Maud- for shelter that night; it looked so very foolish to run away in the morning, and return before bed-time. Could she not manage to camp out in her new dominions, which were entirely destitute of carpets, chairs, or tables? Miss Penniman agreed that she might have a cot-bed, which Marion declared was just the thing. Before she left her friends, however, she took off a small silk jacket she had worn during the day, and revealed the extraordinary array of jewelry with which she was decorated. One by one she laid the pins and bracelets on the table in a heap, and when the sparkling necklace was added, the jewels flashed starry rays of green and 'ruby under the gaslight, dazzling the two aston- ished women with the sight of unexpected riches. "I brought them, you see," said Marion glee- fully, and very proud of her own sagacity. "My dear child! what are you going to do with them?" asked Miss Penniman in alarm. "I am going .to put them in a little box, and leave them witl you to-night," she said. "And after that? 10* page: 226-227[View Page 226-227] 226 What the World Made Thenm. "I O ! I may do ever so many things." "I wish you had consulted your friends." "Do you wish me to go away?" said Malion, reproachfully. "No, my dear, I am glad to have you here, still, I feel responsible." Old Mrs. Penniman insisted on having the jewels hidden in an old band-box, placed under her bed, and then dreamed of burglars all night. Marion slept' as soundly in the little cot-bed, as she had done in her pretty nest at Aunt Maud's, and the next morning Miss Penniman went with her to an office where one of the pearl broocles was converted into ready money. -To be sure the shrewd-featured, black-browed woman at the desk, who held the pearls up to the light critically, then said contemptuously they were, not first quality, still she was willing to make an offer for the trinket, allowed much less than the jewels were worth, but Miss Penniman felt she would have cheated ignorant Marion yet more if she had not been there. Marion felt a keen sting of shame at the trans- action, and could not have nerved herself to Marion's P'light. 227 endure the humiliation had not the prospect of all she hoped to do with it, sustained her. Such busy days followed before Alfred was to De told and invited to share her apartments. There were carpets to be put down, and Marion did it herself, hammering the nails with great labor, and often her own fingers; there was a little stove to be got like Miss Penniman's; an endless arranging and re-arranging of furniture until all was pronounced complete. Before there could be an extra glass and table provided for Alfred's room-and then it would look so nice- Marion made a second visit to the dark Jewess, with another article of jewelry, which she did secretly, with faltering and trembling voice, and did not receive half as much money for the sacri- fice. What would Alfred have thought if he had seen his sister parting with her jewelry in a dia- mond broker's office? "Now I can begin to think about the painting and seeing my brother," said Marion, impatient to have her labors admired. "As to Art, you must work harder than you did in my class." page: 228-229[View Page 228-229] 228 What the WTrorld 3/ade Them. Of course, ma'am." "I have a suggestion to mak6, my dear," con- tinued the good teacher, smoothing the new table- cloth on Marion's table. "If you are going to be an artist, you must create instead of copying. Take any subject that pleases your own taste, and sketch it out by yourself." A feeling of blank helplessness crept over Marion at this alarming suggestion; she felt as if she was straying through a wilderness of scat- tered fragments of stone, pillars and cement, which she was expected to erect into a fair struc- ture,; unaided. The final act which she had looked forward to with such pleasant anticipations, was to inform Alfred personally of her wonderful prosperity. She tripped gaily off to Mr. Powell's store, went to the silk counter, and looked in vain for the familiar face. Marion began to tremble with a sudden, indefinable fear. "Can you tell me where Mr. Ford is?" she asked of another clerk. "Gone away, Miss." "Gone away! where?" : Marion's Flight. 229 "I don't know. There was some trouble upstairs. Perhaps you had better see Mr. Powell." "I will." Marion approached the desk where Alfred had stood only the day before. "Will you tell me where Mr. Ford has gone?" The superintendent looked down from his elevated perch, astonished to see a girl's face with bright eyes. "He was discharged yesterday. Ford? n1o, Sharpe was the name. Where is the other young, man? He has not returned," said an under-book- keeper. "Can you give ne his address?" inquired the sister with forced calmness. After some delay this request was complied with, for Mr. Powell always wished to know where his clerks lived. The young man, Alfred Ford, lived at No. 22 Blank St. Marion found her brother as described in the last chapter, and for a week came daily to nurse page: 230-231[View Page 230-231] 230 What the World Made Them. him, often bringing good Miss Penniman, and always some delicate jelly or broth made over the little stove in the upstairs kitchen. At the expiration of that time the brave little sister" carried her invalid in triumph to the new lodgings. They were like two children playing at keeping house. "Isn't it nice?" commented Marion, when they took their first tea together, and she had scorched her face toasting bread at the fire. "I must get strong, and go to work again," said Alfred after a pause. "Don't fret about that, I will take care of you." Then they both laughed at the idea of Marion's taking care of her big brother, but the fancy pleased her amazingly. Balloons Writhozu Ballast. 231 CHAPTER XIII. BALLOONS WITHOUT BALLAST. C I I ardly know where to begin," said Marion, leaning back against the wall dreamily, and surveying a sheet of sketching paper which was to bear the impress of creative genius. She read old poems found among Miss Penni- man's treasures, striving to embody the fleeting shadows that floated through her brain, into tangi- ble forms; she turned over illustrations and engrav- ings, and at last found a small picture in a volume of miscellaneous verse that suited her fancy. To be sure the idea would not be exactly original if she copied the grouping of the figures from a book, but the coloring, and larger size of her work might make a difference. By and by she could wholly originate. Yes, and this should be a fine large picture, with a grand sweep of drapery, which would take a great deal of red paint, and be most effective. page: 232-233[View Page 232-233] 232 What the World Made Them. The subject-Jael and Sisera-was by no means as startlingly novel as the ingenious young artist imagined, and in hei newhorn vanity she fancied that with one bound she was to spring to the sum- mit of a high peak of excellence, instead of trudg- ing soberly through the intermediate valleys of training. Miss Penniman was quite unconscious of the error she had made in leaving Marion to be guided by her own judgment. She was doubtful if her pupil had the talent in her to make an artist, and the surest way of ascertaining was to have her in- vent, not imitate. But-in accepting the sugges- tion, Marion's lively imagination led her much farther than simply a sketch for Miss Penniman to criticise; she must paint a big picture, and thenI who could tell what might follow? Day after day Miss Penniman made inquiries about the sketch, and Marion smilingly assured her it was not quite ready for inspection. "It may be entirely faulty in drawing," said the teacher. Marion did not believe it was. All this time she was transferring the first sketch, by no means Balloons Without Ballast. 233 carefully made, upon a large canvas. How sur- prised Miss Penniman would be to see it! And indeed she would have been, had she beheld the daring flight Marion was taking behind the closed door. Once the teacher had an opportunity to pene- trate the pupil's sanctum, and investigate for her- self during an hour of Marion's absence, and she was half tempted to do so, but drew back amused at the childish secrecy, yet feeling bound to respect it. So Marion worked on, blithe as a bird, and in the meanwhile Alfred was not idle. His efforts to find employment were devoted to an entirely new channel, however, and singularly enough throlugh the influence of Wellington Sharpe. The brother felt an additional care now that Marion lived with him, in earning his own bread, and Marion made a merry little mystery of where the money came from to furnish the rooms or pay the rent. When he had sufficiently recovered from his illness, and convalescence seemed slow to his anxious impa- tience, he rcturned--however reluctantly, for something must be done-to Mr. Powell's stole, page: 234-235[View Page 234-235] 234 What the World Made Them. only to find that his own place and Wellington Sharpe's had been filled during his absence. "Very sorry, but they could not wait so long," Mr. Powell said quite graciously, finding ttat Alfred was not the. culprit after all, and then he gave him a written reference as to character and honesty, a necessary assistance for any clerk dis- missed from his employ. Alfred had just reached that turning point where the exacting confinement of Mr. Powell's store seemed additionally tedious after an enfeeb- ling illness, and he turned all the more gladly to his new friends, the Sharpes, for advice and assist- ance. The Sharpes knew everything, and then they were far from rich, which brought them nearer on an equality with himself. Alfred had a great dread of being under obligations to rich people in those days of adversity. The Sharpe family lived in a small, narrow brick house in one of the suburbs. The paint was worn from the front door, the bell wire broken, and many careful darnings could not conceal the fact that the hall carpet was worn to the last verge of raggedness, but Mr. Slarpe had no time to Balloons Without .Ballast. 235 notice such trifles, and Mrs. Sharpe could not go on mending forever. When Wellington brought Alfred home with him, the family received him with great cordiality, for they were a hospitable race, and as long as anything remained to spread the table, friends were always welcome. It might be that this lav- ish generosity, and a consequent difficulty in making both ends meet, gave Mrs. Sharpe the anxious, irresolute expression she habitually wore, as if when she was in the parlor instinct told her she should be in the kitchen. On the occasion of that first visit, the two young ladies were in the faded and untidy parlor, both wearing their hair on crimping pins at that late hour of the day, one playing on a discordant piano which had seen its best days, and the other flouncing an evening dress with scraps of muslin and ribbons scattered about the floor. Both screamed shrilly, and fled at the entrance of a stranger. The Sharpe family, unusually talented and enterprising, lacked wholly the ballast of good common sense. They went tilting and swaying page: 236-237[View Page 236-237] 2386 What the World Made -Them. through space, borne up on every fitful breeze, and often returned to earth by a sudden collapse of gas bags, which caused them to drag painfully against unexpected difficulties. Alfred was quite dazzled by Mr. Sharpe's conversational brilliancy, and the variety of schemes which- he in an hour suggested to the young men. Had Alfred been ;wiser, less influenced by the persuasive force of Mr. Sharpe's reasoning, he might have traced in the careless dilapidation of this home, the failureof all such plans. As a young man, Mr. Sllarpe had determined to win a fortune, not accumulated slowly and surely at a tortoise pace, but by some sudden stroke of success. He had struck the vein of pure gold in the solid rock many a time, yet he never had the patience to trace the winding course of the precious metal,-and went on fitfully, in search of a vein nearer the surface, easier extract- ed, leaving his discoveries to more industrious men. His sons followed in his footsteps. The eldest was a chemist, who had labored for years on some invention, which was to be of incalcula- ble benefit to the world if ever finished. In the interval he gazed through his spectacles with an , Balloons Without Ballast. 237 abstraction which made him almost unconscious of surrounding objects. Every event in the life of this oldest son seemed to date from the time "' my invention " was commenced, or in progress of completion. The other brothers chased unsubstantial bubbles of insurance agencies, mining interests, stock speculations, anything but safe, regular employ- ment, for they all equally despised the treadmill of daily work, perhaps from a lack of carefil, meth- odical training, and they changed their business as readily as they would put on, or draw off a glove. At the dinner table Mr. Sharpe ate very little, having a delicate appetite because of the extraor- dinary activity of his brain, perhaps, but he sipped * strong coffee, and enlightened Alfred on many suljects, while the latter listened in respectful silence. Mr. Sharpe liked to kindle the slumber- ing ambition of young men, to show them in their day and generation what could be accomplisheld. The world appeared to Alfred-already sickened and dispirited by his failures--according to Mr. Sharpe's glowing descriptions, a valley of dia- monds, where one had only to gather the spark- ling precious stones. page: 238-239[View Page 238-239] 288 What the World Made Them. After this visit he rushed home'-to Marion with a new resolution. He would not make a slave of himself again as a clerk in a shop; he was going into partnership with Wellington Sharpe, who was at leisure now. The sister turned her can- vas with the face to the easel; she did not show it even to Alfred, and listened to the fresh plan with great interest. "But what are you going to do?" said Marion, who as a girl knew nothing about busi- ness, of course. At least she could not grasp the Sharpe project all at-once. "It is a wonderful chance, May!-" cried Alfred, with more animation than he had shown for weeks. "'Mr. Sharpe, and his eldest son, a chemist, have discovered a vegetable oil, and he will give us the receipt if we manufacture it." "What is it for?" asked stupid Marion. "Why for everything, you little goose. It will not corrupt, or have any unpleasant smell, and it will be much lighter and cheaper than any oil now used. Indeed it will soon supersede them all." Alfred was very glib in enumerating the merits Balloons Without Ballast. 239 of the discovery. Now came the serious part of the matter, however. ' I want to raisej some money before we begin." "How much?" "Two hundred and fifty, or three hundred dollars, would answer." "Why don't Wellington Sharpe do as much?" "He will if he can." Both were silent for a time; Marion absently playing with her paint brushes, and Alfred walk- ing the floor uneasily. At last he said hesitatingly, "Nothing venture, nothing have, you know. We cannot touch that, I suppose, whatever advantage it might be to me just now." "Oh, don't!" exclaimed Marion; and sinking down into her seat, burst into tears. This brought Alfred to his senses at once; he stroked his sister's hair affectionately, assuring her he would do nothing of the sort if it distressed her, and to forget all about it. Alfred alluded to his father's watch, which was very valuable, and page: 240-241[View Page 240-241] 240 WThat lte TWorld Made T/lhm. set with precious stones. The two children had laid it by reverently, intending always to keep it sacredly. But Marion was very quiet. She agreed that Alfred should write to Mr. Manning for temporary assistance. Then she took her daily promenade in a differ- ent direction -straight to Mrs. Maudeville's house. The lady received her very kindly. She had heard of Marion's flight from Aunt Maud's, and she knew that aversion to the proposed mar- riage with her brother-in-law was the cause. Shel was very glad to help Marion, and only wished she had applied to her before. "I am afraid I may be asking a very great favor," began Marion nervously changing color. "I am glad to grant you any favor, my dear child. Why have you not been to see me, or allowed me to visit you before?" "I would rather you did not come, if you please; I am living very happily with my brother, thoughl." Then by degrees Mrs. Maudeville learned the object of the visit, told with many pauses, and in a trembling voice. Bal.'oonz. Without Ballast. 241 Marion wished her friend to purchase the neck- lace and some of her most valuable jewelry, giv- ing her in return the sum of three hundred dollars. "I never wear these things, now," she said eagerly; "and the money would be a great assistance in Alfred's business. Mrs. Maudeville took the box of jewels with a smile, as if Marion had done nothing strange, and merely glanced at the contents. She did not scrutinise each article like the Jewess, at the broker's desk. "I must, like the grand French ladies, buy new dresses to match the stones. If you should ever want to reclaim them, do not hesitate to come to me." "Thank you," replied Marion gratefully. I don't believe that I ever shall need them again." The lady urged Marion to remain with her, to come again; but she delicately refrained from pressing the girl to give the address of her new home, and when she finally rose to go, slipped a roll of bills into her hand as if the money was " page: 242-243[View Page 242-243] 242 What the World Made Them. some trifle belonging to the visitor, which she had near forgotten. It is a great thing to grant a favor, but ah! the way in which it is granted is far more. Surely, courtesy and delicacy in dispensing charity so as not to wound the feelings of the recipient, is worth the whole gift. "Now you can begin your work as soon as you choose," said Marion bravely, spreading out the money on the table before Alfred's astonished eyes when she returned. It was a great sacrifice, there can be no doubt about that, for Marion loved her trinkets, which as the gifts of her girlhood, had so many pleasant associations. Yet something must be done to help Alfred. She was reluctant to have him apply to Mr. Manning, and equally so to give up their housekeeping as a failure. Miss Penniman had frequently to step across the hall to subdue the rebellious confusion of her neighbor's dominion, where the machinery,. guided by inexperienced hands, often came to a dead lock. There were days when the fire would not burn clear, the crockery would break, Balloons Without Ballast. 243 and the dishes consigned to the small stove came out unexpectedly depressed in the middle, or with dismally blackened crust. Housekeeping began to be tedious when the first novelty had worn ff, and Marion grudged the time spent over washing and dusting, which might have been devoted to the famous picture; still she tried to be patient. Alfred was startled when he saw the money. - 4 Oh May I you have sold something, I know." Marion's lip quivered piteously, but she stood behind him so that her sorrow might not be noticed. "What if I have, sir? It was my own busi- ness." "I am an abominably selfish brute!" cried the brother, starting up. "I am to sit still here, and let you put food into my mouth. Nothing but your necklace would have brought this sun. Who has got it, May?" "Why should you know? " retorted Marion, putting her hands behind her and laughing, or trying to laugh. "To return the money," replied Alfred. "That you shall not! What nonsense, page: 244-245[View Page 244-245] 24- What the World Made Them. Alfred! If I have done it, you cannot help mat- ters now, because the person might not be willing to return them, you see." Alfred wavered; the temptation was great. "I will buy it back again, sometime, you good little sister, if you have not taken the stones to some Jew." "Oh! dear no," said Marion, wondering what Alfred would say if he knew she had been before to Mrs. Levi. Poor Marion! Her conscience gave her a twinge: poverty seemed really to be making her deceitful. She shed a few tears over the lost treasures that ighll, as any girl might, ignorant of the dispo- sition Mrs. M audeville had made of them, for that lady had wrapped the little box in a sheet of paper, sealed it carefully, and written on the out- side -- "Property of Marion Ford. To be sent to her unopened, in case of my death," She learned more of Marion's present life than the 'latter was at all aware of, which was easily done, and the young girl would have been much surprised if she had known that a stranger once Balloons Without Ballast. 245 passed her door quietly, entering Miss Penniman's dominions where she remained sometime; and that if she. had peeped under the thick veil she would have recognised Mrs. Maudeville. Aunt Maud made no such effort to find her sister's children. She was offended and hurt at the way Marion had left her, making no allow- ance for the impetuous rashness of nineteen, and she wisely concluded the niece would return when she came to her right mind again. Besides, Mrs. Carlton was absorbed by a great care, of which the brother and sister knew nothing. Harold was growing very wild; and although his mother, in her indulgent maternal fondness, had not objected to his becoming a man of fashion, she now discovered that in this sense fashion involved dissipation. Alfred and Wellington Sharpe began operations at once, the latter taking the lead and managing everything because he had a sagacious father to direct affairs. The young men set up for them- selves in the manufacturing line, and it occupied a whole morning to write attractive bills, adver- tising the newly discovered oil and its virtues. page: 246-247[View Page 246-247] 246 What the TWorld Made Them. "We cannot afford to advertise much," said the more cautious Alfred. "No; only a little to start the thing," agreed Wellington, scattering exclamation points and hands with the fingers pointing at the words "Vegetable Oil," in large capitals, broadcast over the circular. The oil company began in a very modest way, but Mr. Sharpe, who took great interest in it, stimulated the partners with descriptions of rising, self-made men who had commenced in garrets or small shops, until at a later date the brick walls of their factories covered whole acres. Whether the oil interest was destined to spread over so much ground, was another matter. It commenced in the loft over a shed in a lum- ber: yard, down near the wharves of the city, where the sluggish tide crept in among the slime- covered woodwork of the piers, and busy steam- boats panted forward and backward. A burly Irishman was engaged to stir the mysterious com- pound that boiled in a huge iron cauldron, while Alfred and Wellington, with their coats off, strained, cooled and prepared the fluid for bot- Balloons Without Ballast. 247 tling. The stout Irishman, slowly stirring the pot, represented the force of muscle; while Wel- Ington Sharpe, skimming the surface, critically studying the component parts,-the superiority of mind. Yet Alfred fancied there was a satirical twinkle in the man's eye, which seemed to say: "Shure it will be a fine day intirely, before the young jintlemin make their livin' out o' this pot." The next step was not nearly as pleasant as the manufacturing process: to present the discovery to the public, especially when the public was uninterested, impatient or scornful. Wellington did not mind sneers, or shrink back sensitively when repulsed openly, but to Alfred the doubtful comments of people were like the stinging of nettles. One old gentleman said: "Is it possible you young fellows can find nothing better to do?" "That is all very well for a rich man," said Wellington wrathfully, as the partners trudged on with samples under their arms. "We shall make twice as much as we did at Mr. Powell's, when we get going." page: 248-249[View Page 248-249] 248. What the World Made Them. This getting going seemed to be a serious mat- ter. Alfred had invested his money in it, and he must gain a return if possible. "We can turn our attention to extracting essence of wintergreen, or making peppermint, if the other fails," he said gloomily. ' Fail! who-talks of failure? All we need is to get going," said Wellington sturdily. So the stout Irishman stirred the cauldron daily, and the partners worked on, living on the interest of future success. In the meanwhile Marion worked at home equally hard. Jael and Sisera covered the can- vas, the Hebrew woman towering to an astonish- ing height, clad in gaudy colors, crimson, yellow, and purple, while the head of the dead captain of Jabin's army resemnbled strikingly a North American Indian. The young artist had often seen Jaels before, but never in this attitude; and with so slight a difference, she rested content. Miss Penniman would have insisted upon seeing the progressing work, and have reasoned with Marion that her studies could be of no possible use if she accepted Balloons WTithout Ba/last. 249 no assistance, had the teacher not been taken ill at this time with a severe inflammatory cold, which affected her head and eyes. Marion, in 'the capacity of chief nurse, tried to repay some of the kindness Miss Penniman had already shown her, but it was no time to worry her about any question of Art. 'So Marion finished the picture according to her own fancy, and bought a handsome frame. (It took a great deal of frame!) She was very much pleased with it, but at the last moment she dreaded having Miss Penniman's searchli, experienced eye seeking any fault. Miss Penni- man was so dreadfully particular! Still, Marion went across the hall to consult the teacher about it, and paused whten she heard a stranger's voice. Through the half-opened door she could see a stout, rosy-faced old lady, whose cheerful, healthy aspect bore a trace of resemblance to Mrs. Penni- man's sharpened features, with the exception that one life was all pain, and the other all aotive, robust strength. "My girls do splendid now, Priscilla.' "I am glad to hear it; they are bright, indus- "* page: 250-251[View Page 250-251] 250 What the World Made Them. trious girls," replied Miss Penniman's voice from the bed. "Gardening's a good bit better for women than fine sewing, I say, and then the difference in the money is worth having, too. They did every single thing to the asparagus bed, cutting the stalks, and binding 'em up for market; and the small fruits brought in a pretty penny." Marion crept back into her own room; she knew this must be Mrs. Penniman's sister from the country, and she would not intrude on the family circle. She had no time to lose, and the picture must go without Miss Penniman's seeing it. She intended sending it to an Artists' Exhibi- tion, and she did hope somebody would buy it. Alfred and Wellington Sharpe came to admire the completed work, although they were not experienced critics, and their judgment may have been influenced in favor of the painter. The young men carried the precious canvas away, and delivered it safely into the hands of the committee. Marion spent several days palpitat- ing withdalternate hope and fear, although Alfred and Wellington had no doubt that Jael would Balloons Without Ballast. 251 hang in the best place of the gallery. At last she could endure the suspense no longer, and Miss Penniman learned the important secret. "My dear child I I am afraid you have made yourself ridiculous," exclaimed the teacher in the utmost astonishment. "Why did you not tell me, or show me the picture? Surely I must know more about it than you. Can any one be perfect at once? Marion looked crestfallen, and when her two young knights came marching back with the rejected work, which was too crude and imperfect to find a place in the exhibition, she felt more crestfallen still. Miss Penniman looked at Jael with some severity in a strong light, pronouncing judgment on her at once, and it is to be feared on the painter as well. She had no hope of Marion's being an artist now, without years of preparation. She talked very sensibly and wisely to the girl, and Marion listened sadly, humbied-the pretty balloon of vanity suddenly collapsing-as for the first time she realized her own enormous igno- rance. page: 252-253[View Page 252-253] 252 What the Worlds Made Them. The picture stood in the corner for a week, and then it disappeared. Marion missed it on coming home one evening. Miss Penniman met her smiling, and gave her the price the picture had brought:--fifty dollars - Jael had been pur- chased; Miss Penniman was not at liberty to state by whom, and there was the money. "That is famous," cried Marion with sparkling eyes, that any one should have appreciated her picture. Yes, the frame must have been expensive," said Miss Penniman drily. "I believe it was only btught out of charity," exclaimed Marion. And Miss Penniman, fearing the balloon would inflate again, replied, "I am afraid so." Who in the world the purchaser was, no mortal knew, except Miss Penniman, and perhaps Mrs. Mandeville. Harold Carlton's Death. 253 CHAPTER XIV. HAROLD CARLTON'S DEATH. r HE firm of Ford and Sharpe failed. The financial crash did not affect the business world much; it merely involved sending one sturdy Irishman to seek employment elsewhere; deserting the loft where the cauldron might rust in idleness, and the two young partners, having tasted the bitterness of disappointment, seeking another path than that which led to prosperity by means of vegetable oil. The failure was a very tiny and insignificant one; it made no stir, indeed it is doubtful if any one knew it, but the blow was terrible all the same. Wellington's period for " getting on," was such a long one, the general public so unsympa- thetic and unappreciative, that Alfied's money dwindled to the lowest ebb-the engulfing caul- dron and its attendant satellite, the Irishman, had absorbed the whole. Wellington Sharpe, whose page: 254-255[View Page 254-255] vl54 254 What the World Made Them. spirits possessed the India rubber elasticity of his family, rebounded into a hopeful condition, but Alfred, with the burden of Marion's sacrifice weighing on his heart, rallied more slowly. A sudden light. the dawning of his good sense, came like a revelation to Alfred. He discovered for himself the flaw in the Sharpe practicality, and it would have been better had he made the discov- ery before. Mr. Sharpe received the tidings of misfortune in an abstracted manner ; he was thinking of pushing a bill through Congress. "Unstable as water thou shalt not excel," should have been the family text. When Wellington proposed to Alfred continu- ing the partnership, turning their attention to be- coming tea merchants, in a small way, he firmly declined, and they parted good friends. The hardest part of the trial was to break the news to Marion when Alfred returned home that Saturday night, weary and disconsolate, with the heaviness of drooping energy, which comes with the close of evening. The sister was. not as much surprised as he anticipated. She had watched him closely, and drawn her own inference from his Harold Carlton's Death. 255 anxious expression, the gloomy silence respecting vegetable oil. When the end came, and the busi- ness of Ford and Sharpe wound up abruptly with the close of the week, a mutual sense of care, sad to be seen lining such young faces, oppressed them. They sought their pillows, striving to make plans for the opening week which might only bring them darker trouble; and the angel of slum. ber fluttered over them on downy pinions, sealing their eyelids by the magic touch of forgetfulness. The next morning's sun rose in golden splendor, and the oppressive shadows of the previous night vanished like the lurking shadows of darkness. Alfred and Marion, refreshed by sound, dream- less rest, shook off the burden of their trials as birds ruffle soft plumage after a passing shower. The city was hushed in the profound calm of repose; all the busy hum of daily activity was stilled, and the church bells rang out sweet and clear, deep rich tolling notes, light silvery chimes in the distance, just sprinkling the air with sound. Alfred and Marion went to church with good Miss Penniman, through the pleasant sunshine, page: 256-257[View Page 256-257] 256 What the World Made Them. with the city trees clothed in the first fresh green of spring. The peaceful quiet of the church soothed all restless thought, solemn music floated from the organ in waves of harmonious sound, seeming to be the vocal utterance of silent prayers uttered in the sanctuary, and the minister taught that after this life comes death, and in the tempo- rary strife every effort of duty will have a future reward. After church the two young people strolled on- ward through broad streets, reluctant to return to the narrow limits of tleir home. A light wagon, drawn by a fiery, high-spirited horse, dashed past them. In the momentary flash of recognition, they saw that the reckless driver was Harold. His face was haggard and pale, he glanced only casually at the groups of church goers on the pave- ment, and if he felt any remorse at having long since set at defiance all propriety of conduct, he concealed the momentary pain with a haughty in- solence of manner. "Poor Aunt Maud," said Marion. "I am afraid we have behaved undutifully and selfishy." "Yes," assented Alfred, looking after the dis- Harold Carlton's Death. 257 appearing vehicle with anxiety. May, you just run around to Aunt Maud, and wait there for me." Marion went obediently, and found Mrs. Carlton lying on a sofa, absently turning the leaves of a book. She complained of headache, but welcomed Marion cordially, and the latter, conscience- stricken when she thought of the change in Harold, returned the affectionate greeting warmly. ' We all have our troubles," sighed Mrs. Carl- ton, forgetting to scold Marion. "Did you see Harold down stairs?" "' Not down stairs." " Have you seen him at all?" "Yes, driving towards the park," acknowledged Marion. "He must not drive on the Sabbath; I shall tell him so." After that Harold was not mentioned, and Marion waited for Alfred to return-waited with the hours slowly passing, in uneasy suspense which increased to positive fear toward nightfall. Aunt Maud fell asleep, leaving Marion to amuse herself, and no sound was heard in the quiet chamber but the regular breatling of the sleeper. page: 258-259[View Page 258-259] 258 What the World Made Them. Watchful Marion was growing foolishy nervous. She feared something had happened to her brother. She fretted about Harold. When the clock struck or a carriage rolled past she jumped, then laughed at her own foolish fancies. At last a sound struck her ear that made her heart stand still; the meas- ured tramp of feet, coming every moment nearer. Why was it that she stood so silent, glancing back at the sleeping form in the room instead of opening the window? Why did she check the scream that almost escaped her lips, and approach Mrs. Carlton with blanched, terror-stricken face? Mrs. Carlton opened her eyes slowly, to gaze with unsuspicious deliberation at her niece. "You look as if you had seen a ghost, May. What has frightened you?" "Oh! dear Aunt Maud!" gasped Marion, standing between her aunt and the door as if to shield her. Marion had seen a terrible sight in the street below; a bier-shaped couch covered with a white cloth, carried by four men, several persons walk- ing beside it, and among them Alfred. Mrs. Carl- ton read the awful secret in Marion's eyes. Harold Carlton's Death. 259 She rose and put her niece aside with the strength, the rigid composure that comes to the support of weak natures sometimes, in moments of great emergency. She went down stairs, the first benumbing sense of pain settling into stern reality, and opened the door, bidding the crowd to enter. Under his mother's roof-quitted in anger after a remonstrance from her on his last mad freak- across the hall, and into the darkened parlors they bore him, placing him gently on the ground, cold, stiff, and dead. Mrs. Carlton uttered one despairing cry, with such a chill of desolation in its ring, when the covering was raised and she gazed upon the poor crushed form, the soft black hair that had trailed in the mire, the death-hued face of her son. "He is beyond the reach of human aid, madam," said the physician gravely. She neither moved or spoke, but by an impatient gesture motioned the crowd of strangers to retire. The rude men stared in wonder at the lady who could receive her own child in this way without shedding a tear. They little knew the difference page: 260-261[View Page 260-261] 260 What the World Made Them. betWen a fitful gust of passing grief, and a settled, tealless agony, deeper than despair. Alfred had followed his cousin with all speed. He intended to persuade Harold to return home quietly, and not chafe thel restless temper of the dangerous horse he was driving. Alfred found it somewhat difficult to act upon his good impulse, for Harold drove at a rapid pace around one corner, and then another, until he disappeared within the gates of a much frequented park. "If the horse should get headway there," thought Alfred, not daring to frame the conclusion of the sentence. It was impossible for a pedestrian to follow the swift flight of the animal, so Alfred climbed to an elevated spot which commanded a view of the di- verging roads, and waited. Around a bend the graceful horse vanished, Harold holding the reins carelessly while he light- ed a cigar, and Alfred fixed his gaze steadily on the next point where they could reappear. Back thundered the returning footsteps of the frantic steed, sounding hollow on the firm road, rearing, plunging, and with every motion of his powerful Harold Carlton's Death. 261 hoofs inflicting a blow on the prostrate form of the young man, entangled in the ruin of wheels and harness. Only a moment, and the light carriage was overturned, dragged onward at frightful speed towards the gateway, where the horse, snorting and trembling, fell in a helpless, quivering mass. That was the end. The weary hours went by on leaden wings, the sun set in a bed of sombre, purple clouds, and evening shadows began to shroud the earth. Blessed night to the bereaved mother, shutting out the gay happiness of others, and suffering her to retire into welcome gloom. Why must the world whirl on just the same, harping on the sensitive chord, wearying the aching heart, never noticing the badge of mourning, never thinking of the fresh made grave? So Harold Carlton, in the flower of his youth, trifled with the precious gift of life, and passed away leaving no sign. It is appointed to every man once to die, and after death comes the judgment." Who might know what the judgment of reckless, foolish Harold would be? To Alfred Ford the lesson of his page: 262-263[View Page 262-263] 262 What the World Made Them. cousin's death was the most impressive sermon that could be preached. Two young men starting on the journey together, the career of one ending so early on the brink of a yawning precipice, and where would his own path terminate? "And I might have been like him but for May!"' said Alfred, recalling the night when Marion found him and led him home from the restaurant. The remembrance of his sister's in- fluence then, came back to him, not like a living presence, but the embodying of his mother's prayers, his father's hopes-purifying and enno- bling. l ' The Little Brown Gentleman. 263 CHAPTER XV. THE LITTLE BROWN GENTLEMAN. rJHE miniature establishment which had flour- ished, with some drawhacks and failures, still flourished under Miss Penniman's watchful care, was broken up after Harold Carlton's death. The reason was a good one. Since the failure of Ford and Sharpe, the treasury was discovered to be nearly empty, and Marion had no funds wherewith to replenish it, neither had Alfred. The little home must be relinquished, and all at once the two young people discovered how much attached they were to the place. Marion had an auction, officiating, herself, as auctioneer, and the public being represented by the Pennimans, an old lady who lived down stairs and kept a little shop, and a patient, care- worn dressmaker. Marion did not make much money by the forced sale. When she learned that the poor dressmaker wanted the stove, she page: 264-265[View Page 264-265] 264 What the World Made T7hem. sold it at an alarming reduction on the original price; and when she found that old Miss Penni- man liked her rocking chair, she gave it away. Alfred retained his own little room. He would not live at Aint Maud's house, although, since the death of her son, he had become a great sup- port to her. Marion's spirits were kept up at parting by another idea-the best, as it proved, she ever had. '"I have no talent for anything; I am nothing but a jog trot;" she :confessed. Such being the case, she decided to return to her cottage, live with Michael and turn farmer. This plan would never have occurred to her had she not overheard the conversation of Mrs. Penniman's country sister, the day she hesitated to speak about the finished picture, and learned further particulars afterward. The Rogers girls raised fruits and vegetables for market; why could not she? "If you don't succeed here, you can join me," she said, bidding Alfred good-bye at the railway depot. Alfred set his mouth firmly, as he turned away. How much longer was he to drift along in this The Little Brown. Get!lemana. 265 purposeless fashion, making lunder after blun- der? If lie could only find Iis own proper groove in life, he would strive with all his might to fill it lhonorablv. He had almost reached the last ebb of his fallen fortune. Unless lie appealed to Aunt Maud for assistance, or unexpectedly found some employment, he could not hold out in the fort of his own independence another week, but must strike lis colors, and surrender to actual Want. Disappointmrent was rapidly verging on despair, when tiis week drew to a close; everywhere he met with discouraging denial. It really seemed to the young man, in his distress, as if there were too many mouths to fill, too many people in the world. He was mingling with the throng of a thoroughfare, moving with the current, but entirely devoid of purpose, for he was disheart- ened by the morning's experience from making further efforts that day, when he saw a little brown gentleman. There was nothing at all remarkable in his appearance--le did not apparently notice Alfred- l12 page: 266-267[View Page 266-267] 1266 What the World Made Them. yet the young man followed him with interest, speculating on his probable character, as we do speculate often when a face pleases our fancy. He was plainly dressed; his habitual expression was keen, caustic, but not unkindly; and the closely cropped, pointed beard, gave him a quaint resenmblance to the old Flemish poitraits of Van- dyke. His face and hands were of a deep brown color, bronzed by exposure to the sun of warm latitudes. Beside him trotted a little, ragged beggar child, answering his questions in a shrill treble, with an eager expectation of food in the tiny pinched face. This small, brown gentleman, quiet and unassum- ing as he seemed, possessed an individuality which made him more remarkable, inasmuch as when once seen, he was not easily forgotten. He took out his pocket book, and gave the child some money, then turned down aside street. When Alfred reached the same spot he stumbled over an obstacle and stooped hastily to pick it up, just as a sharp-eyed newsboy darted forward to secure the prize. How the newsboy would have rioted in the possession of the lost article, visiting The Little Brown. Gentlenan. 267 the galleries of theatres, indulging in fiuit and candy to excess, and how much worse a boy he would have been after it all. What a loss it would have been to Alfred had he not rescued the purse, for it was ihe very pocket book that the little brown gentleman had held in his hand a moment before. Alfred hurried in the direction he had taken, but neither the benefactor or beggar child were in sight. Then he went slowly homeward, and when he reached his own room, loced the oor and opened the book. It contained a few leaves of a memorandum, with dates and numbers jotted down in a precise, formal hand, several outer pockets, and an inner one securely strapped down. The outer pockets held a small sum of money, and a card with the name, Paul Sherman, M. D. Then Alfred unfolded the secret pocket, and involuntarily held his breath when he saw the roll of bills it contained. He counted them care- fully and searched in vain for the home of the owner, but could discover no clue except the card which he concluded must be the name of the little brown gentleman. page: 268-269[View Page 268-269] 268 What the W'orld Mfade Them. Alfred felt the care of the pocket book as much as old Mrs. Penniman had of Marion's jewelry the evening she insisted on hiding it in a band- box under her bed. All night he had haunting dreams of burglars, and in his waking moments, tempting, evil sug- gestions, seemed to whisper in his ear all the money would be to him in his present destitute circunstances, if the rightful owner was never found. Then why not wait and search for adver- tisements of the loss, remain passive, ready to give it up if claimed, and if not- "Great Heavens! Am I as near becoming a thief as that?" exclaimed Alfred, starting up from his bed resolutely, and writing the adver- tisement. "If Dr. Sherman will call on A. Ford at No. 450 Evergreen Avenue, he can recover lost pron- erty by proving it." This he inserted in a newspaper, read it in print, and waited for a reply. None came. The young man's heart began to beat faster. He had only a few shillings left in the world; his break- fast for several mornings had been a roll, and now The Little Brown Gentleman. 269 his dinner must be equally frugal, and lie involun- tarily eyed the plump pocket book, which after all, might never be missed by the rich owner. Fearing to trust himself alone with his ownl thougllts, he concealed the purse beneath a corner of the carpet, seized his hat and rushed out into the streets. Hours passed before he returned, and then ho found the little brown gentleman seated in Miss Penniman's room, chatting sociably with her, as if it was the most natural thing in tie world for him to be found there. Alfred raised his hat courteously, and the stranger's keen eyes seemed to probe his very soul in one quick, comprehensi;e glance. "This gentleman has called to see you, my dear, said good Miss Penniman, with a look of gentle triumph. Alfied's face flushed. What had his friend, the painting teacher, been telling about him? "Yes," assented the little gentleman, rising to follow Alfred. "The tonic can easily be sent to you, madame." This remark was addressed to old Mrs. Penni- page: 270-271[View Page 270-271] i - '270 What the [World adde Themn. man, referring to some previous conversation, and she beamed into a sudden radiance of delight at the polite attention. Alfred led the way into his own room, and placed the pocket book in the owner's hands. The latter produced an eye-glass, snapped it firmly on his nose, and then opening the book, counted the contents deliberately. Alfred felt painfully embarrassed; somehow he hoped the little brown gentleman would not have subjected him to such an ordeal. But he did. Every bill was spread out, every pocket investigated. Hurt and offended, Alfred crossed his arms, and gazed moodily at the carpet. "You will find the purse intact, I believe, sir." "Lacking a dollar," qualified the other. ' That I was compelled to take for advertis- ing" returned the young man, and relapsed into silence. "Quite right," said Dr. Sherman, after a pause,; studying his companion attentively without appearing to do so, and stroking his gray beard with one small brown hand. "And now Mr. Ford, what am I to do for you?" The Little Brown Gentleman. 271 Alfred started, then drew back proudly. "I have not claimed a reward, sir." "I did not intend to offer you money," said the other, quietly. Alfred felt ashamed, yet at a loss to express his feelings. The visitor walked to the window, still stroking his beard in that abstracted way. Finally he wheeled about, and said to Alfred: "Come with me." They went out together, and Miss Pennlman, looking after them, murmured, God grant the lad is in good hands at last. Alfred was in good' hands; he had found a friend in need. Dr. Paul Sherman was a wealthy, eccentric gentleman, who had spent years travelling in dis- tant lands. He returned when still compara- tively young, and lived quietly in a large old fashioned house, in a noisy quarter of the city, where shops had sprang up rapidly encroaching on the limits of the time-stained dwelling which had been his father's before him. When the iron gates admitted one into the courtyard with its patch of green sward, wlere some pet pheasants page: 272-273[View Page 272-273] / 272 What the World Made Them. and peacocks strutted among stone urns of plants, the surrounding bustle and din of active life seemed wholly excluded, and the stranger half expected to see the faces of a past generation at the narrow casements; the gloomy door thrown back for the passage of fair ladies in hoops, brocade, and sharp heeled slippers, attended by gentlemen in wigs and small clothes. Dr. Sherman was old fashioned, and would not permit a desecrating finger to touch the relics of his home. He was an educated physician, but his wealth was sufficient to render an active life unnecessary. He daily received the poor at stated hours, and relieved their maladies chiefly by giving them food. He did not think or act precisely like other people, and therefore he was considered peculiar--as if every one could run in the same groove. He had all manner of odd cranks and whims, such as are usually induced by a solitary existence, but he also held one settled ambition. Rich men live their appointed time, and in dying are forgotten; their dust possesses simply the weight and value of a poor man's ashes. Th/e Little Brown. Gentleman. 273 The little brown gentleman felt that vague longing to impress the fleeting shadow of his own existence on time; the indefinable desire to out- live his brief day in a posthumous fame, which exists in all humanity raised above the savage state. His mental capacity was superior; his brain being well balanced, clear, sound and practical, but yielded no fiuit. Capable of absorbing and assimilating the knowledge of others to a great extent, quick to follow the clew of reasoning when once given, keen to detect firaud, cllaritable in judgment, yet exactly just, that was the clar- acter of the little brown gentleman. He was dis- appointed in himself because in the limit of power, he failed to grasp genius. So came from stone a face instinct with the passion of life; to infuse into the picture the vivid light and shadow of reality, to discover the hid- den secrets of the universe in the patient, toililln research of laboratory and observatory were not within his reach. Therefore he must live in his good works. What these good works were, and to what extent the most generous impulses of 12' page: 274-275[View Page 274-275] christian charity carried him, the all-seeing, watchful eye of the Creator alone knew. "I can invest my money and interest in poor young men and women possessing talent that I lack, and through them I shall live for all time." That was the little brown gentleman's ambi- tion. No young heart struggling to breast the billows of adversity ever stretched out a hand to him in vain. God be praised there are any such in this dark world. Alfred Ford had reached a safe haven, and never was a tempted youth more speedily satisfied with the truth of the old adage, "Honesty is the best policy." To have retained the pocket book would have been to lose Dr. Sherman. The settilig sun found them in the spacious old fashioned house, Alfred telling frankly all tile difficulties of his career since his father's death. It was not, at all hard to talk to the grave, atten- tive listener, who did not preach in return, but pointed out the errors of Alfred's course, by a judicious remark here and there, making them so clearly apparent. Alfred was too proud of his own self-respect The Little Brown Gentleman. 275 ever to tell a lie, and lie fancied it would be im- possible to deceive his new friend, who would slightly elevate his brows and look the guilty culprit through, with those piercing, sifting eyes. "Perhaps you will not make a good business man," he finally said. "I am afraid not," replied poor Alfred, with a sigh, thinking of the disastrous ruin which befell the firm of Ford and Sharpe. "How should you like to study a profession?" "Very much, only it takes so much time." "It takes time to do anything well," observed Dr. Sherman, with a slight smile. "Have you any desire to study medicine?" Alfred pondered. Was it to be his vocation to heal the sick, to alleviate human suffering by means of such enlightenment as a progressive age afforded? "Take your own time to decide, and I will educate you." "You are very good, but indeed you know nothing about me,' cried Alfred, gratefully. "I shall satisfy myself on that score," said the little brown gentleman quietly. page: 276-277[View Page 276-277] 276 What the World Made Them. CHAPTER XVI. A COUNTRY DOCTOR AND A MARKET GARDENER. WARM morning in June when the roses bloomed in a crimson mantle over the white walls of a little cottage, trained carefully to droop in graceful clusters and cling about the casements, lending a beauty to the otherwise plain dwelling. The summer air was sweet with the breath of blossoms, and drowsy with the hum of bees, not more industrious than the inmates of the cottage. A rosy faced young woman was singing over her work in the kitchen, an old man was plodding about the garden, and a young lady holding a trowel in her gloved hands, and with a broad hat tied down under her chin, was at work among the flower beds. Not an inch of the small place was uncultivated. Two hothouses afforded a tropical atmosphere for choice grapes-offshoots from the great vine that flourished in Governor Ford's grounds; a third Country Doctor and Market Gardener. 2" conservatory contained valuable plants; the ground was divided neatly into a trim vegetable garden and strawherry beds. The young lady in the straw gardening hat wore a perplexed expression, as if some trouble weighed upon her spirits. When she raised her- self erect from a stooping posture, she saw a stran- ger leaning over the fence watching her with an amused expression. He was a little brown gentleman, with'a gray beard, and there was something so genial in his smile that Marion smiled also. "I believe I shall claim your acquaintance, young lady, as we are land owners together," lie said. "Are we? I never saw you before, sir," said Marion franklv. "I have bought the adjoining property." Marion's face clouded, and she played with her trowel in silence. ' You are sorry, I perceive.' "Yes, sir," acknowledged Marion. "The former owner promised to rent me an acre of land." page: 278-279[View Page 278-279] r Q 8 21 8 What the World Made 'Them.. - What were you going to do with it?" Marion became confidential at once. She ap- proached the fence, and made known her own prospects and Michael's for more extensive culti- vation of strawherries, He listened attentively, and then Marion invited him to enter her domin- ions, and she showed him the hennery, which was in fine condition, for Marion had worked hard at it these two months. "The hens have their own way now; but at first I tried to manage them by the rules of a book, only they would not mind." The little brown gentleman was profoundly in- terested in the hel history, or at least he pretend- ed to be. which amounted to the same thing. "I had no money when I came here to turn farmer, but Michael had a penny put by for us, as he terms it, from the grape sales, you know, and that we invested in fowls. We sell our eggs already, and after a while there will be chickens for market," added Marion, turning to a range of coops where tiny, yellow down balls were trotting about, obedient to the clucking commands of the imprisoned hen mothers. Country Doc!or and Market Gardener. 279 "I expect to make ever so much money." ' What will you do with it?" "Help' my brother; he is going to study medi- cine., Dr. Sherman looked approving that this should be the sister's first plan, but he made no comment. ' Afterward he might come to live here and be a physician," suggested Marion. "Why should we not live in the town where we were born?" "A very good plan. I will make a bargain with you. I have no present use for the land, and you may plant your strawherries there on one condition-that you take a young German boy into your service. Fritz does not understand English very well, and he cannot get a place yet, and if you can make use of him in your garden, I will let you have the additional land." "But the plan is all for my advantage," said the young girl doubtfully. "Of course we call do twice as much with a young man to help Mich- ael." "Consider the matter settled, then," and he hastily departed, as if Marion's gratitude made him uncomfortable. page: 280-281[View Page 280-281] 280 What the Wilorld Made TLhem. Nothing delighted the little brown gentleman so much as to play the part of detective in sotne benevolent enterprise. He visited Mr. Manning on purpose to ascertain all about Alfred Ford. Before he left the town a rumor passed tlirougll the place that the Governor Ford property had again changed hands, Dr. Sherman having pur- chased it of the late owner. After he had gone Marion flew to Mr. Man- ning. "Who was that gentleman?" she inquired, eagerly. "Alfred's best friend, I suspect." "Oh, dear, to think that I did not know it!" Marion wrote Dr. Sherman a letter, full of warm gratitude, to which he made no reply except to send Fritz to her. Fritz was a stolid, fat-faced, good humored lad, who said "nein" to, everything, at first; but Michael soon contrived to establish a sort of free masonry intelligence with him, by means of the garden, for Fritz was born and bred a gardener. Marion wab to keep him for his service the first year, and if a salary found its way into his pocket Country Doctor and Market Gardener. 281 during this time from Dr. Sherman, she was none the wiser. After that the agricultural interest flourished famously. Michael and Fritz worked with a will. It would have been more astonishing to note all the plans for improvement that they concocted, had they not been constantly directed and advised by the little brown gentleman. Marion had found her appointed task, and accepted it willingly. She attended to the fowl interest in person, and helped to gather the ripened fruit, which Fritz readily sold to the sum- mer residents of the watering place, the great people, who wondered at the ups and downs of life which compelled Governor Ford's petted daughter to sell the fruit for their luxurious tables, and the flowers for their parties. They all made a duty of buying from her, and Marion was not one whit disturbed by their patronage. She was learning her lesson of adversity early. Michael had done very well in the home which Marion provided for him at the time of her father's death, and he exerted his skill in directing page: 282-283[View Page 282-283] 282 What the World Made Them. the labors of industrious Fritz all the more zealously,: when the time came that she needed his assistance. Marion grew weary of her account books, sometimes, and felt lonely without Alfred, but she resolutely dispelled the cloud of discontent, looking forward to the future hopefully. Half of the cottage was devoted to her use, and nothing delighted her more than to have a guest in the one state chamber, with its fresh chintz furniture. Miss Penniman, whose dream of Europe seemed as iazily distant as ever, visited her former pupil, yes, and she actually enter- tained the little brown gentleman occasionally, who was unobtrusive as a mouse, and charmingly amusing besides. At last the course in the Medical College was completed with credit, the diploma received, and Alfred came home to his sister. "We will fight the battle here, May," he said resolutely, and Marion, who had been the pioneer in the enterprise, agreed. Alfred hung out his sign in a small building, announcing the office hours of Dr. Ford. , I ) Country Doctor and Market Gardener. 283 The young physician was obliged to feel his way cautiously, and rest content with a humble range of practice, but even in that he acquitted himself so well, that surely and slowly he won his way upward. The town was surprised at the stand he had taken in establishing a position by his own exertions in their midst, but gradually they learned to respect the courage which prompted the decision. A few years after Alfred's settlement in the cottage, the principal physician of the place, grown old and wealthy in the profession, retired, to travel with an invalid, and passed over his valuable practice to young Dr. Ford. This won- derfully good chance of fortune caused Governor Ford's son to look more hopefully to the future, as if the path was smoothed to the old home, and in the vista of coming years of honorable useful- ness he saw the realization of the promise he had Inadle when he left it under the dark cloud of his father's disgrace and death. "My nephew and niece have become a country doctor and market gardener. One might have expected more of them," said Aunt Maud despairingly. page: 284-285[View Page 284-285] 234 What Ike TWrld Made Them. This was an opinion given according to her alght, yet what more could have been expected of the brother and sister than that they should endeavor to faithftilly do their duty, learning experience, bitter, but wholesome, from the many mistakes of their progress? Alfred and Marion went to the old church with grateful hearts, and looking across the aisle to the familiar pew once occupied by them in their care- less earlier youth, thought not of what they had lost, but all they had gained since that time. To drift on the current idly wafted along by prosperous breezes, all the better energies of the soul's strength lying dormant does not develope true manhood or womanhood. So the brother and sister went on their way, hopefully and prayerfully, learning from their own limited experience in life, that earthly friendship is a broken reed, and that a heavenly guidance alone, could safely direct their steps on the jour- ney to the end. THE END. I I
