I 
 
 HE 
 
 Nl 
 OHM 
 
 lOMPKiNS 
 
University of California Berkeley 
 
THE THINGS THAT COUNT 
 
THE THINGS THAT COUNT 
 
 BY 
 ELIZABETH KNIGHT TOMPKINS 
 
 AUTHOR OF "HER MAJESTY," "AN UNLESSONED GIRL," ETC. 
 
 G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 
 
 NEW YORK & LONDON 
 
 Gbe Ifcnicfcerbocfcer press 
 
 1900 
 
COPYRIGHT, igoo 
 
 BY 
 ELIZABETH KNIGHT TOMPKINS 
 
 Tlbe Ifcnfcfcei-bocfeer preee, IRew 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 :HAPTER PAGE 
 
 I GROWING A SOUL . ..'"-.. . i 
 
 II ENTER RICHARD PALMER . . 17 
 
 III CRUMBLING IDOLS .... 37 
 
 IV A COMPACT 48 
 
 V EVELYN BREAKS FAITH ... 69 
 VI THE VAN HORNS ARRIVE . . 87 
 VII ACCUSATIONS AND COUNTER-ACCU- 
 SATIONS . . . . . 106 
 
 VIII AN IDYL ...... 133 
 
 IX THE SCENE CHANGES . . . 165 
 
 X LUCIA 181 
 
 XI EVELYN GOES HOME . . . 199 
 
 XII THE SMITH PART .... 226 
 
 XIII RICHARD RECEIVES A BLOW . . 242 
 
 XIV THE DOCTOR 274 
 
 XV THE GATES AJAR .... 300 
 iii 
 
IV 
 
 Contents 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 XVI FURTHER GLIMPSES OF HEAVEN 
 
 PAGE 
 317 
 
 XVII RETROSPECTIVE .... 331 
 XVIII THE DELUGE, AND WHAT CAME 
 
 AFTER IT ..... 358 
 
THE THINGS THAT COUNT 
 
THE THINGS THAT COUNT 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 GROWING A SOUL 
 
 ALL the guests in Mrs. Elisha Perkins's 
 luxurious drawing-room were gathered 
 in an appreciative semicircle about one figure, 
 a young woman sitting on a divan with a guitar 
 on her knees. She was singing comic songs in 
 a sweet soprano voice, with something inde- 
 scribably humorous, yet altogether charming, 
 in her manner. So, at least, her audience 
 seemed to find it ; for they were listening to 
 her with wide grins on their respective faces, 
 and at every pause they clamorously demanded 
 more, suggesting favourites for her to choose 
 from. The young woman was obliging; she 
 sang everything they asked her to, and even 
 threw in one or two extras on her own account. 
 
2 The Things that Count 
 
 Probably her appearance had something to do 
 with her success. Her face was full of good- 
 humour and fun, which showed themselves in 
 the laugh in her light-brown eyes, just match- 
 ing her curly hair, and in the suggestion of a 
 dimple in her left cheek. She looked adorably 
 pretty in the graceful attitude which a guitar 
 exacts, with her knees crossed, showing her 
 slim feet in brown satin slippers. Her gown 
 was of deep cream-coloured mull, covered 
 closely with a faint brown pattern of interlock- 
 ing arabesques. 
 
 It was late before she was released and the 
 guests took leave of their hostess. 
 
 " It was certainly a great success," Mrs. 
 Perkins remarked with visible pride to the two 
 young women who had helped her entertain 
 them, Dolly Van Horn, her secretary, and 
 Evelyn Smith, the girl of the guitar, her 
 guest. 
 
 It is all owing to Miss Smith," said the 
 former admiringly. 
 
 ' You sang very well to-night, Evelyn," 
 Mrs. Perkins remarked patronisingly. 
 
 I am glad you liked it," Evelyn replied 
 without a suspicion of sarcasm. Evidently 
 she did not resent the tone. 
 
 The smile was still on her face after she had 
 said good-night and had gone -up-stairs to her 
 
Growing a Soul 3 
 
 room. But the door had no sooner shut be- 
 hind her than it was dropped like a too-heavy 
 burden. An expression of intense weariness 
 took its place. She looked five years older 
 than she had appeared in the drawing-room. 
 
 " Oh, I am so tired of it all. I wish I might 
 never hear a coon song again," she said half 
 aloud, throwing herself down on the couch by 
 the window and burying her face in the pillows. 
 She lay perfectly motionless for five minutes; 
 then rose to her feet and examined her gown 
 to see if she had wrinkled it. Next she took 
 it off deliberately, folding her ribbons and 
 other accessories to her toilet with the utmost 
 care. After she had put on a dressing-gown 
 and a pair of old slippers, she went to the 
 closet and brought out a big dress-box con- 
 taining a gown in the process of being made. 
 She spread her materials on the bed, turned 
 on an electric light which hung at its head, and 
 began to sew quickly and skilfully, with a tired, 
 serious look on her face. 
 
 Presently there was a knock at the door, and 
 in answer to an invitation, Dolly Van Horn 
 came in. 
 
 " I was afraid I would find you in bed," she 
 apologised, " but Mrs. Perkins wants me to 
 answer that letter she gave you to read." 
 
 " It 's on my dressing-table just behind you. 
 
4 The Things that Count 
 
 Sit down a minute, won't you, Miss Van 
 Horn?" 
 
 " What are you doing ? " she asked, sitting 
 down on a corner of the bed. 
 " Making myself a gown." 
 ' What a strange time to choose! " 
 " I always sew at night. It is the only time 
 I am sure of having to myself. I do any ma- 
 chine work I have to do in the daytime, but 
 all the planning and cutting out and all the 
 handwork at night." 
 
 " But don't you miss the sleep ? " 
 " I get eight hours. I make a point of that. 
 I '11 be in bed by two and I don't get up until 
 ten. You see I can't afford to look old a min- 
 ute before I have to." 
 
 " I should think -it would be much more 
 satisfactory to go to bed and to get up a couple 
 of hours earlier. The morning is the time to 
 work. That is what I always do. I have 
 breakfast at eight and I have done half a day's 
 work before Mrs. Perkins is likely to call on 
 me." 
 
 Evelyn laughed. " Does n't that just re- 
 present the difference between you and me ? " 
 she asked. " Anybody would know that you 
 got up early and that I got up late. There 
 is something so healthy, mentally as well as 
 physically, about you. You 're a buttercup 
 
Growing a Soul 5 
 
 and I 'm a night-blooming cereus. You are 
 worth a thousand of me. I have been humili- 
 atingly conscious of it ever since I came here ; 
 but I suppose," she added thoughtfully, " I 
 suppose the average man would be fool enough 
 to prefer me to you." 
 
 " Or the exceptional man either. Men don't 
 care for me except in a Platonic, sisterly way. 
 I never had a man in love with me in my life. 
 I suppose that seems inconceivably and inex- 
 pressibly dreary to you." 
 
 " Not in my present mood. I feel cheap 
 and common, music-hall-y ; and the kind of 
 tinsel attracting that I do seems loathsome to 
 me. It is n't the real me that they care about. 
 They don't know anything about it, and it is 
 humiliating to me, the sudden way they begin 
 to make love to me, just because I can sing 
 darky songs and have been blessed, or cursed, 
 with an attractive exterior and an infectious 
 laugh. It is degrading and I hate the whole 
 thing. I '11 never marry anyone but a blind man. 
 Now if a man tells you he loves you, you know 
 he means yourself. You have n't any tricks." 
 
 " I did n't know you felt this way. I did n't 
 know you cared," Dolly said slowly. " I 
 thought you were happy in your life. I have 
 often thought so. What an actress you must 
 be!" 
 
6 The Things that Count 
 
 " What a hypocrite, do you mean ? No ; I 
 don't think that I am that. It was all genuine 
 five years ago, the fun, the enthusiasm, the 
 enjoyment; and now it is simply habit. I ad- 
 mit that it is a habit that I should not have 
 kept up if it had not been to my advantage to 
 do so. Still, it is a second-nature to me now 
 to seem to be having a better time than any- 
 one else and to help other people to have one. 
 I don't know what is the matter with me to- 
 night (or, rather, I do), but it all seems emptier 
 than usual." 
 
 " And I thought you were so completely 
 satisfied," Dolly repeated, genuinely aston- 
 ished. 
 
 You thought I had no soul, I suppose ? 
 Well, I did n't have when I was younger. 
 One has been growing in me of late years, and I 
 find it very inconvenient. There was n't room 
 for one in my scheme of life. But you must not 
 imagine that I am in the habit of letting go 
 and talking like this. You see, it is n't worth 
 while keeping up the farce before you, if you 
 are a Van Horn. You have n't any house to 
 invite me to. Am I brutally frank ? " 
 
 ;< No, I like it. I have never liked you so 
 well as I do this minute. But if you hate 
 your present life so much, why don't you try 
 some other ? " 
 
Growing a Soul 7 
 
 Evelyn laughed, rather mirthlessly. 
 
 " My dear girl, that is so easy to say. Be- 
 sides, I don't usually hate it so much as I do 
 to-night. There is a special reason. I will 
 tell you about it, and then, perhaps, I sha'n't 
 mind it any more. It was something that 
 horrible Mr. Little said to me. He half whis- 
 pered to me that he 'd like to engage me per- 
 manently to sing to him. There was nothing 
 in his words, but his manner was insulting. 
 He would never have dared to say it in that 
 way to any of the other girls. And the worst 
 of it is, I don't dare snub him. He is too 
 useful to me. So I had to smile and act as if 
 I liked it. I 'd like to be rich and important 
 for one day, just to get even with him for 
 some of the things he has had the presumption 
 to say to me. I was planning it all out when 
 you came." 
 
 " I don't know you to-night," Dolly re- 
 marked. 
 
 " I don't know myself. I used to think that 
 I was so amiable and good-natured, every- 
 body has always told me so, but sometimes, 
 nowadays, I feel that this is n't my real nature 
 at all. I seem to have a devil inside of me. I 
 resent things as I never used to. I am grow- 
 ing morbidly sensitive about things that I used 
 to take as a matter of course." 
 
8 The Things that Count 
 
 " I don't think it is a devil. I think that it 
 is the soul that you spoke of a little while ago. 
 That is making you discontented with your 
 life, and, sooner or later, you will find yourself 
 forced to give it up and get into something 
 better." 
 
 " Or something worse. My dear girl, you 
 don't understand. You cannot understand, 
 you are so different. I can't endure ugly, in- 
 harmonious surroundings, and all the money I 
 have in the world is five hundred dollars a 
 year. I must have pretty clothes and bright, 
 airy, sunshiny rooms. I loathe black corsets 
 and Hamburg edging and cotton sheets. I 
 cannot eat a mouthful if things are not cooked 
 and served exactly so. Dirt makes me literally 
 shudder, and as for bad smells, they make me 
 physically ill. No, my present life may be 
 unattractive, but the alternative is worse. I 
 simply cannot live in any surroundings that 
 nine dollars a week can buy me." Both girls 
 were silent for a few minutes, and then Evelyn 
 went on: " It is all very well for you to talk 
 who have a college education and an earning 
 capacity. Now what am I good for, I 'd like 
 to know ? I can speak French and German, 
 more or less badly ; I can sing comic songs and 
 strum on the piano rather pleasingly; I have 
 read a great many novels and have some 
 
Growing a Soul 9 
 
 disconnected literary and historical informa- 
 tion, but I could n't do a sum in fractions to 
 save my neck, and I always write a note with a 
 dictionary beside me. I can make clothes, to 
 be sure, but my methods are purely original." 
 
 " You could do my work as well as I," Dolly 
 suggested. 
 
 " Not I. I could n't keep the accounts of 
 all those charities, nor carry on literary corre- 
 spondences with farmers' daughters. I could n't 
 stand the position a week. That it is endur- 
 able for you is simply because you are Twiller 
 Van Horn's niece, and because Mrs. Perkins 
 hopes that the connection will lead to Mrs. 
 Van Horn's calling on her some day. A 
 plebeian Smith would be treated very differ- 
 ently from a patrician Van Horn. You know 
 you are the only secretary that Mrs. Perkins 
 has ever kept more than a month. She is afraid 
 that you will tell the Van Horns if she does 
 not treat you with every consideration." 
 
 Dolly laughed. 
 
 " I know that," she said. " But, all the 
 same, I think I could have stayed." 
 
 You could if anyone could have. You 
 are so placid and serene, so much above all her 
 little tormenting ways. But I suppose you 
 are thinking that it is dreadful of me to talk 
 this way about my hostess. I don't do it very 
 
io The Things that Count 
 
 often. You see, it would be impolitic. It is 
 a dangerous amusement." 
 
 " You can't make me believe that this is 
 your only motive. You like to make yourself 
 out so much worse than you really are. Never- 
 theless, I have great hopes of you. A healthy 
 discontent is such a good sign." 
 
 Evelyn picked up her work and went on shir- 
 ring the dimity at the waist-line. 
 
 " How pretty that is!" exclaimed Dolly. 
 " I love lavender and white. How are you 
 going to trim it ? " 
 
 ' I have this lovely deep Valenciennes lace, 
 one of my numerous gifts for services rendered, 
 and I am going to put that down the front like 
 this. And then I am going to wear a lavender 
 satin stock and a belt with a gold buckle. 
 Don't you think that will be pretty ? " 
 
 " Lovely! It is so wonderful to me to see 
 anyone do things of that sort. I am simply 
 helpless with a needle in my hand and I 
 have n't an atom of taste. I 'd rather not 
 have a new gown than decide how to have it 
 made. But I don't know that it makes much 
 difference. I look as ugly in a new gown as 
 in an old." Dolly said this serenely, with the 
 air of one stating a simple fact. Evidently 
 her lack of beauty was not a point on which 
 she was sensitive. 
 
Growing a Soul 1 1 
 
 " I don't admit that you look ugly in any- 
 thing," said Evelyn. " It is perfectly evident, 
 all the same, that you don't care what you 
 wear. Now your hair (if you '11 forgive my 
 mentioning it) is perfectly magnificent. I never 
 look at it without wishing that I could paint 
 it, that mahogany colour is so evidently in- 
 tended for a canvas ; but it is a sin the way you 
 do it. You deserve to have stringy, mud- 
 coloured hair. I wish that you would let me 
 do it for you some day. It would be a delight 
 for me to get my hands in it." 
 
 " I 'd be only too glad to have you. You 
 may not believe it, but I 'd like to dress better 
 if I only knew how to set about it. It is not 
 a question of economy. I spend money enough 
 on my clothes, but I don't know what to buy. 
 There is no reason but lack of knowledge why 
 I should not be well dressed. I have no one 
 dependent on me. My mother has her own 
 little income. I have a good salary and quite 
 a little money in the bank saved up for a rainy 
 day or a trip to Europe." 
 
 I should n't be surprised if you spent more 
 on your clothes than I do on mine," said 
 Evelyn. ' I make all of them. You ought 
 to see the tailor finish I can put on a cloth 
 gown. And I can braid and do all that sort 
 of thing. These summer clothes are mere 
 
12 The Things that Count 
 
 play. The materials are so cheap that you 
 can have any number of them if you make 
 them yourself, and if you get the washing of 
 them out of your friends' laundresses, as I 
 do." 
 
 We won't go back to that subject," said 
 Dolly. " I am going to bed. I have a lot of 
 work to do to-morrow, and I never can be sure 
 of my time after Mrs. Perkins is up. By the 
 way," she added, when she had reached the 
 door, " you did n't know that Cyril and Mr. 
 Palmer are coming to-morrow. The telegram 
 came just after you had gone up-stairs." 
 
 ' They are ? But I don't suppose it will 
 make any difference to anybody. I never 
 heard Cyril say ten words in my life, and I 
 understand Mr. Palmer won't live in the 
 house." 
 
 " No; he is going to board at one of the 
 farmhouses, the Andrews's probably." 
 
 ' That stipulation rather interested me in 
 him," said Evelyn. " Do you know how old 
 he is ? not that it matters. All men are alike 
 to me unless they have twenty-five thousand 
 a year and upward." 
 
 " Oh, don't! " protested Dolly. " I hate to 
 hear you talk this way, though I know you 
 don't mean it. I don't know how old he is, 
 except that he is young, generally speaking. 
 
Growing a Soul 13 
 
 Cyril likes him, if Cyril may be said to like 
 anything more personal than galvanic batteries 
 and telephones.'* 
 
 " What an impossible boy he is! " remarked 
 Evelyn. 
 
 " Not so impossible as he seems to be. I 
 really have a decided liking for him. We have 
 grown to be very good friends. He has a 
 strong character and I think that he will sur- 
 prise us all some day ; but he never will amount 
 to anything until he is out from his mother's 
 control." 
 
 " Mrs. Perkins antagonises him." 
 
 ' Yes, dreadfully. He is another person 
 when he is away from her. She seems to 
 arouse everything that is sulky and obstinate 
 in him." 
 
 " He dislikes me," said Evelyn. " I think 
 he considers me on his mother's side. Do you 
 think Mr. Palmer will succeed in getting him 
 through his college examinations ? " 
 
 " If he has any sense, if he knows how to 
 take Cyril, he will. You see, he is n't a stupid 
 boy in the least. It is just that he has made 
 up his mind that he does n't want to study 
 Latin and Greek and go to college, and he 
 positively refuses to study. When it 's mathe- 
 matics and science, it 's quite another thing." 
 
 " I should think his mother would send him 
 
14 The Things that Count 
 
 to a school of technology or something of that 
 sort, to the Yale Scientific School, for in- 
 stance." 
 
 " That 's what she ought to do, but she 
 thinks that it 's better form for Cyril to go to 
 Harvard and take a classical course. She 
 wants him to make friends who will help him 
 on socially. That is why she sent him to Dr. 
 Wendell. They are both obstinate when they 
 make up their minds to a thing, and I am 
 curious to see who will win. You see it 's a 
 race for time. Cyril will be of age in a year 
 and a half, and if he succeeds in keeping out 
 of college for that time, he won't go at all, 
 while what Mrs. Perkins hopes is that, if he 
 once gets in, he will like it so much that he 
 will finish his course. They say Mr. Palmer is 
 the man to put him through if anybody can. 
 Mrs. Perkins pays him a high salary ; but Dr. 
 Wendell said he was the person to get at any 
 price. He has n't been doing tutoring at all 
 for several years." 
 
 " Do you know what he has been doing ? " 
 Evelyn asked, holding up the waist on which 
 she was sewing, to get the effect. 
 
 " How soft and pretty that is! " exclaimed 
 Dolly. " I could n't make a thing look like 
 that if my life depended on it. Mr. Palmer 
 has been private secretary to Atwater, J. G, 
 
Growing a Soul 15 
 
 Atwater. He has just been admitted to the 
 Bar and is going to start in to practise next 
 fall." 
 
 " How did you know all this?" Evelyn 
 asked. 
 
 " Dr. Wendell told Mrs. Perkins. It seems 
 that Mr. Palmer went to school to him and he 
 has a great admiration and affection for him. 
 Well, I must n't stay another instant." When 
 she reached the door for the second time, she 
 stopped again and said imploringly: 
 
 " Now don't make him fall in love with 
 you." 
 
 " I 'm sure I don't want him to," Evelyn 
 answered honestly. " The only men I ever 
 attempt to influence are millionaires, and even 
 then I always get disgusted with myself when 
 I have got them to a certain stage and give 
 the whole thing up. With ineligibles, I give 
 myself the luxury of being myself. I never 
 try to please them. It is so humiliating to try 
 for things." 
 
 "And do ineligibles never care?" asked 
 Dolly. 
 
 ' Yes, that is the worst," Evelyn answered 
 simply, without a trace of complacency. " I 
 succeed better when I don't try than when I 
 do, other things being equal. But I never 
 want them to care. I suppose I have got used 
 
1 6 The Things that Count 
 
 to it; but it does n't give me any particular 
 pleasure and it hurts them." 
 
 " I believe that you really have n't any 
 vanity," Dolly exclaimed. " I never could 
 see any, but I always thought that I must be 
 mistaken. You are the kind of a girl that one 
 would expect it in." 
 
 " No, I am not vain," Evelyn answered 
 slowly, evidently more absorbed in her sewing 
 than in her words. " I know my good points 
 perfectly, but I am never acutely conscious of 
 them. It is one of my few virtues. On the 
 other hand, I am often acutely conscious of 
 my deficiencies." 
 
 ' This is an interesting subject, but " 
 Dolly began. 
 
 I believe you really do find it interesting," 
 said Evelyn as Dolly was going to the door for 
 the third time. " Now I should n't sit up, if 
 I wanted to go to bed, for the pleasure of dis- 
 cussing another girl's charms. You are so un- 
 egotistical that you make me hate you. Go 
 to bed this instant, or I '11 put you out by 
 force! " She sprang to her feet, dropping her 
 work to the floor, and made for the door, but 
 Dolly was gone before she reached it. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 ENTER RICHARD PALMER 
 
 TO anyone for whose enlightenment the in- 
 side history of the move had not been 
 revealed, Chenook would have seemed an 
 unlikely enough place for Mrs. Elisha Perkins 
 to bring her suite and her social ambitions 
 to. To admit the truth, her previous sea- 
 sons at Bar Harbor, Newport, and Lenox had 
 not been so successful as she had dreamed 
 they would be. She had had to content her- 
 self with hovering on the outskirts of the de- 
 sirable social life of those places. She was 
 invited to some big things, but left out 
 pointedly left out, she called it to herself of 
 the small entertainments which her soul 
 desired. , 
 
 After several seasons of the same experience, 
 she resolved to try another plan. She would 
 go to some small, exclusive place, where her 
 great wealth would seem of more consequence 
 
 2 
 
 17 
 
1 8 The Things that Count 
 
 than at the larger resorts. Here, no doubt, 
 she could work herself into more intimate re- 
 lations with her neighbours, relations that 
 would outlast the summer and serve for a basis 
 of operations the following winter in New 
 York. 
 
 Now Chenook was the place that naturally 
 suggested itself to her as most suitable for her 
 operations. The majority of the families who 
 had their summer homes there were undeniably 
 of social importance. They would have been 
 of consequence anywhere. Their coming to 
 Chenook was unquestionably a matter of 
 choice. There was no lack of means or 
 prestige to make it necessary. It was a sig- 
 nificant fact that it was almost impossible to 
 rent a house there. There were none to let. 
 The families who prided themselves on dis- 
 covering the place owned each its own place, 
 and there was a strong esprit de corps to keep 
 out outsiders. All the beautiful wooded 
 country for miles around, all the picturesque, 
 rocky seacoast, was bought up by a syndicate 
 formed of the summer residents, and not a 
 foot was sold except under rigid conditions and 
 to people who would make desirable neigbours. 
 The difficulty of getting into Chenook was pro- 
 verbial, but this only stimulated Mrs. Perkins's 
 determination to accomplish it, especially as 
 
Enter Richard Palmer 19 
 
 there was a reason why it seemed at that time 
 the most desirable of places to her. It was at 
 Chenook that the Twiller Van Horns had their 
 favourite summer place, and it was on Mrs. 
 Van Horn that she rested her hopes. No 
 matter how proud that lady might be, she 
 could not in so small a place utterly ignore her 
 niece's employer. 
 
 As luck would have it, Mrs. Perkins heard 
 betimes though her lawyer that the Arbuth- 
 nots had had great financial losses which would 
 make it necessary for them to retrench con- 
 siderably. Now the Arbuthnots had the hand- 
 somest place at Chenook, not excepting the 
 Van Horns'. She made them a tempting offer 
 for the lease of it. After a little hesitation it 
 was accepted. There was nothing particularly 
 objectionable about Mrs. Perkins, and the 
 money would be a great convenience. The 
 most important consideration, however, was 
 that she might be a purchaser, and purchasers 
 for white elephants of country-houses in out- 
 of-the-way places, even if the place was Che- 
 nook, are extremely difficult to find. With 
 this point in view, they asked their old neigh- 
 bours to be friendly and hospitable to her as a 
 particular favour to themselves. She must be 
 made to find the place attractive. 
 
 It had been only three weeks since Mrs. 
 
20 The Things that Count 
 
 Perkins had arrived with Dolly and Evelyn, 
 but already she felt herself an acknowledged 
 member of the inner circle of Chenook. She 
 had met all the principal families, with the 
 exception of the Van Horns, who were not 
 coming down until later in the summer. This 
 prompt success, beyond her utmost hopes, put 
 her in great good-humour. There was not the 
 faintest suspicion on her part that this cor- 
 diality of reception was due in a great measure 
 to the two girls. Evelyn always charmed 
 wherever she went, and Dolly, in spite of her 
 dependent position, was a Van Horn, and the 
 Van Horns were popular at Chenook. 
 
 On this, the night of her first dinner-party, 
 the evident enjoyment of her guests, their out- 
 staying the usual time for departure, made Mrs. 
 Perkins feel that her point was accomplished. 
 Something more substantial than a summer 
 acquaintanceship would undoubtedly be formed 
 before she went back to New York in the 
 autumn. She could not help recognising how 
 much Evelyn had to do with the success of 
 this particular evening, and this made her 
 gracious to her when they met at luncheon the 
 next day. Mrs. Perkins always devoted the 
 morning hours, from eleven to one, to her ac- 
 counts and an active superintendence of her 
 own housekeeping. She put her arm around 
 
Enter Richard Palmer 21 
 
 Evelyn's waist as they entered the dining-room 
 together, an unusual demonstration, and asked 
 her how she had slept. 
 
 ' There was not a single bit of duckling 
 left," she began when she was seated at the 
 table with the two girls. ' I don't understand 
 it. I am sure a quantity went from the table, 
 but Miller says that we eat every scrap and 
 Joseph backs her up." 
 
 It was uncommonly good," remarked 
 Evelyn. " One could hardly blame the cook 
 for appreciating her own successes." 
 
 It is something that I never will stand, and 
 the sooner Miller finds it out the better," Mrs. 
 Perkins continued. " I do not believe in pam- 
 pering servants. They have plenty of good 
 substantial food of their own, and I won't have 
 them stealing what comes from our table. 
 That duckling would have done for an entree 
 to-night at dinner. I think I discovered an- 
 other thing," she went on. " I think Ellen, 
 the laundry maid, steals the soap and trades it 
 for anything she wants at Martin's." 
 
 'What makes you think that?" Evelyn 
 asked, out of politeness. 
 
 " It goes so fast and Mary swears that she 
 does n't waste it or let Ellen. And, then, I met 
 her coming out of the store the other afternoon 
 and she looked so guilty when she saw me." 
 
22 The Things that Count 
 
 " I can explain that," said Dolly. " James 
 Martin is her young man. They were keeping 
 company last summer when I was here. I be- 
 lieve they are to be married next fall." 
 
 " All the more reason why he would be 
 willing to take .the soap," remarked Mrs. 
 Perkins. 
 
 " But they are not that kind," protested 
 Dolly. " I have known James for years." 
 
 ' Well, I have marked the wrapper of 
 every cake of soap with a cross in lead-pencil, 
 and I shall ask to see the soap at Martin's 
 sometime before long and find out for 
 myself." 
 
 "I am sure that you will find out that you 
 are mistaken," Dolly persisted with a certain 
 quiet firmness that always overawed Mrs. 
 Perkins when she made use of it. Evelyn 
 would have been silenced at her first protest 
 with a cool, " Well, if you know more about 
 it than I do " She had learned by experi- 
 ence that it was wiser to let anything pass, 
 even an insult to her dearest friend, rather than 
 attempt any expostulation. An honest differ- 
 ence of opinion was a desire to annoy her in 
 Mrs. Perkins's eyes. 
 
 " Well, perhaps. Mary is sure that she 
 does n't," that lady replied; and when Dolly 
 went on to say : 
 
Enter Richard Palmer 23 
 
 " My aunt has the greatest confidence in 
 James. In fact, she likes all the Martins," she 
 added: 
 
 " I suppose it does take a great deal of soap 
 to do such big washings. You girls' shirt- 
 waists and dresses alone must take a couple of 
 bars a week." 
 
 ' I have been giving my washing to the 
 Widow Thomas," Dolly remarked calmly. 
 Mrs. Perkins gave her a sharp glance. 
 
 " And why did you do that ? " she de- 
 manded. 
 
 " Because you have spoken once before 
 about the size of my wash, and I felt like a 
 child who had made mud-pies with a clean 
 apron on. I thought I 'd rather be independ- 
 ent." Dolly said this with the most absolute 
 good-humour. 
 
 I won't have that," Mrs. Perkins said de- 
 cidedly. " My dear Dolly, I wish you to have 
 your clothes done in the house." 
 
 " As you please," Dolly answered tran- 
 quilly. " Only if I do, I will have as many 
 clean shirtwaists as I like. Otherwise I am 
 perfectly ready to put it out." 
 
 Half a dozen if you like. What are my 
 laundresses for but to do the family wash, I 'd 
 like to know ? " exclaimed Mrs. Perkins. " I 
 am sure they have an easy enough time of it. 
 
24 The Things that Count 
 
 Lots of people would keep only one with a 
 family the size of mine." 
 
 ;< Dear me, I envy you your pull," Evelyn 
 said to Dolly as the two girls were standing by 
 the lily pond after luncheon, looking to see if 
 any new varieties of lilies had bloomed since 
 the night before. "It is the secret of your 
 success with our good friend. There is always 
 the idea of your repeating your grievances to 
 Mrs. Van Horn. I should have been allowed 
 to put my washing out, with only a formal 
 protest, but Mrs. Van Horn might think it 
 strange if you were allowed to." 
 
 " I wonder " Dolly began, and then 
 stopped. 
 
 ' You wonder what ? " 
 
 No matter. I was going to say something 
 impertinent." 
 
 ' You wonder that I can stand the depend- 
 ence of my position here is that it ? " 
 
 " Something of that nature." 
 
 ' You forget that it is only a choice of de- 
 pendences for me. And I am very comfort- 
 able here. Our good hostess has her faults, 
 but I never struck one that did n't. Every- 
 body on this earth has an unforgivable fault if 
 you get down to actual facts. A certain 
 amount of deliberate eye-shutting is necessary 
 if you don't want to live your life absolutely 
 
Enter Richard Palmer 25 
 
 alone. Now I like Chenook/ Its beauty is a 
 perfect delight to me every hour. I like swim- 
 ming and boating and golf and bicycling, and 
 I get them all here. I like the freedom of the 
 life and the absence of crowds and fuss. I like 
 Mrs. Perkins's cook and I like her wines. She 
 keeps good horses and her servants are oblig- 
 ing. Lastly, and this is the most important, 
 I have much more freedom than in any other 
 house I could go to there are three or four 
 open to me. In all the others I should have 
 to do five times as much entertaining and hard 
 work of that kind. In one, I should not be 
 allowed ten minutes a day to myself, for my 
 hostess is a woman who hates her own society. 
 In another, I should have to renovate all the 
 daughter's gowns. She has an inadequate al- 
 lowance, because her father believes that girls 
 should be taught economy, so she extracts 
 gifts by judicious hinting among her wealthy 
 friends, and every spring after she has bought 
 her thin clothes, she invites me to make them 
 up for her. Of course I am expected to offer 
 to do it. She is always hunting for cheap 
 sewing-women to make her underclothes and 
 then she jews them down. And she never 
 pays her dues in any club or anything of that 
 sort unless she is positively forced into it. She 
 has only six hundred a year, when her father is 
 
26 The Things that Count 
 
 worth five millions, and they live on a propor- 
 tionate scale. I have often been tempted to 
 tell him what I think of it. I want to tell him 
 the harm he is doing her by leading her 
 into mean, underhand, almost dishonest 
 ways. 
 
 ' Why don't you do it ? " 
 
 " My dear girl, you forget that I never tell 
 people what I really think of them. It is a 
 luxury that I cannot afford. Besides, you 
 see, there might be certain things that he 
 does n't approve of about me. But to return 
 to my subject : I stay here because Mrs. Perkins 
 is a woman of so many pursuits that it leaves 
 me very free, and because her economy keeps 
 her from having the house full, which is a great 
 relief. As to my lack of independence, you 
 must acknowledge, whether you approve of my 
 way of doing it or not, that I do earn my 
 board yes, and my washing, too, in spite of 
 the amount of soap it takes. Well, I must go 
 and get my hat. The ponies will be around in 
 a few minutes. I am going to exercise them 
 for Mrs. Perkins." 
 
 " What, so early ?" 
 
 ' There are some people coming to call later. 
 We are to have tea under the big chestnut and 
 I shall be wanted to make myself generally 
 agreeable. I hope to goodness they won't ask 
 
Enter Richard Palmer 27 
 
 me to sing. Don't you want to come with me 
 now ? " 
 
 '' I can't possibly. Mrs. Perkins is going to 
 dictate some business letters to me and I have 
 some of her farmers' daughters' letters to an- 
 swer as usual." 
 
 " In any other house I 'd have to put in my 
 afternoon entertaining my hostess," said Eve- 
 lyn as they walked back to the house. 
 
 It was such a lovely day and the road through 
 the woods was so beautiful that Evelyn drove 
 slowly. She had not brought a groom with 
 her, and she enjoyed the unaccustomed sense 
 of freedom and solitude. The ponies were 
 lazy little beasts and were only too glad to 
 loiter. Consequently it was half-past four be- 
 fore she got home and she had to dress in a 
 hurry to be ready to receive their guests. 
 
 Evelyn was not particularly impressed with 
 the exclusive residents of Chenook. They 
 seemed commonplace people, with nothing to 
 distinguish them from the rest of the world ex- 
 cept the aureola of wealth and fashion. In 
 Mrs. Perkins's eyes they were all that was 
 charming, and would be so as long as they 
 showed a proper appreciation of her own 
 charms. If this failed, she would at once dis- 
 cover the unforgivable fault of each one of 
 them. Evelyn felt this afternoon that they 
 
28 The Things that Count 
 
 would never go, but she did not on that ac- 
 count relax any of her efforts to make them 
 stay. 
 
 ' This having so much time to myself is 
 spoiling me," she said to herself when they 
 had at last gone and she was strolling down 
 the path which led through the pines, over 
 the sand-dune to the beach. She made a very 
 attractive figure in her red and white dimity 
 waist and white piqu skirt, with red stock, 
 belt, and shoes. An occasional gleam of sun- 
 shine finding its way through the trees turned 
 her curly light-brown hair to gold. She had 
 picked a large brake and was holding it up to 
 protect her eyes. As she stepped down on 
 the beach, she saw two figures coming over 
 the brown sand, packed hard by the receding 
 tide. It was Cyril and his tutor, and for the 
 first time that day she remembered their ex- 
 pected arrival. She shook hands with the 
 former, who was apparently not very glad to 
 see her, and who introduced her sulkily to Mr. 
 Palmer. 
 
 " You don't seem surprised to see me here, 
 Cyril," Evelyn said. 
 
 " Oh, I knew you were here," he replied in- 
 differently, betraying an unflattering anxiety 
 to move on. But Evelyn was not accustomed to 
 such treatment, and it amused her to tease him. 
 
Enter Richard Palmer 29 
 
 " Did n't someone meet you ? I know the 
 waggonette went down to the steamer to get 
 the letters." 
 
 " We sent our things by it and walked. It 
 was such a nice evening and we had been sit- 
 ting so long," said Mr. Palmer. He had a 
 pleasant voice and a quiet, agreeable manner. 
 
 " Come on. We 'd better be going," Cyril 
 said rudely. Mr. Palmer took no notice, but 
 asked Evelyn if she were not going back to the 
 house. His manner was pointedly courteous. 
 She turned and went with him, Cyril walking 
 silently ahead. 
 
 She did not stay in the house after they had 
 left her to go to their rooms, but, taking the 
 paper which had just arrived, she went out 
 under the trees to read it. She found it useful 
 to be thoroughly posted on what was happen- 
 ing in the world. 
 
 Dinner was pleasant. Mr. Palmer proved 
 himself much at ease and master of the situa- 
 tion. Cyril was sulky and hardly said a word. 
 Evelyn he completely ignored. She herself 
 was conscious of appearing well and the con- 
 sciousness pleased her. The new tutor was 
 distinctly worth while as a man, if he did not 
 have twenty-five thousand a year. 
 
 After dinner Cyril took him off for a smoke. 
 Evelyn went to the drawing-room with the 
 
30 The Things that Count 
 
 others, but presently she remembered that she 
 had left the paper out under the big chestnut 
 and that Mrs. Perkins always took it up to bed 
 with her. She went out and found it where 
 she had left it, and then came back by a short 
 cut across the lawn. She had not known where 
 the men were, but when she was directly under 
 the library window, her feet making no sound 
 on the soft turf, she heard their voices within 
 and these words reached her. Evidently she 
 had drawn near during a pause. 
 
 " And the other girl, Miss Smith ? " It was 
 Cyril's voice that answered. 
 
 " She 's a hanger-on of my mother's, one of 
 those women who live on their wealthy friends 
 instead of earning an honest living for them- 
 selves. She 's pretty and attractive enough, I 
 admit ; but if you knew as much of her as I do, 
 you 'd despise her as I do. She is wild to get 
 married, but you need n't be worried. She has 
 n't any use for a poor man except to make him 
 miserable. I could tell you stories about her 
 goings-on. She 's a regular toady and backs 
 my mother up in all her schemes by way of 
 keeping in with her. She 's clever, clever as 
 the devil, and she knows how to fawn on a 
 person while appearing to be standing straight 
 up. You won't have any use for her when 
 you know her." 
 
Enter Richard Palmer 3 1 
 
 " My dear Cyril, you are the most uncom- 
 promising young person I have ever known," 
 Palmer replied. 
 
 Evelyn was standing perfectly still, struck 
 motionless by these words, but now she 
 gathered up strength enough to move on. 
 She made her way back to the drawing-room in 
 a half-dazed fashion, left the paper there, and 
 excused herself on the ground of not feeling 
 well. It was not until she had reached her 
 room, had taken her gown off in her usual 
 careful fashion, and had thrown herself on the 
 couch by the window, that she really felt the 
 force of the words which she had overheard. 
 When she began to realise what they meant, 
 she felt sick all over. She began to shiver, 
 and pulled a rug up around her, burying her 
 face in the pillow with a despairing cry of 
 
 " It is n't true. It can't be true." She 
 uttered meaningless ejaculations and her whole 
 body was shaken by tearless, convulsive sobs. 
 Cyril had been too cruel. 
 
 It was characteristic of her that in the midst 
 of her unhappiness she did not feel any resent- 
 ment towards him. She saw no reason why 
 he should not say what he did if he believed 
 it, and if he believed it, there must certainly be 
 some ground for his belief. Even before she 
 fully took in their meaning, his words were 
 
32 The Things that Count 
 
 ineffaceably printed on her mind, and now she 
 said them over, examining charge after charge. 
 The conclusion that she arrived at was that 
 there was undoubtedly truth in them, but that 
 they were not true. The sketch that Cyril 
 had made was a caricature. The next ques- 
 tion to decide was what to do about it. There 
 was only one answer possible. Nothing at all. 
 She thought of telling Dolly, but she shrank 
 even from the idea. It was too hideously 
 painful to mention. 
 
 Her one consolation was that Dolly believed 
 in her and that she and Mr. Palmer would 
 undoubtedly become friends. They had been 
 attracted to each other immediately and Cyril 
 liked her. Doubtless in time Dolly would dis- 
 cuss her, Evelyn, with him and give him a differ- 
 ent idea of her. But this might be a long time 
 off. Here Palmer's face rose clearly before her 
 and she realised for the first time that he was 
 unusually good to look at. It was a face that 
 grew on one rather than suggested beauty at the 
 first sight, and yet, now that she had realised 
 the fact, she wondered that she had not seen 
 his good looks the first moment she looked at 
 him. They were a little of an Irish type, with 
 deep blue eyes, a thick mass of dark cloudy 
 hair, straight, rather small white teeth, and a 
 skin through which a deep flesh tint was visible. 
 
Enter Richard Palmer 33 
 
 It did not seem to be highly coloured on the 
 surface so much as a little way down. There 
 was a clean, fresh, transparent and yet healthy 
 look to his complexion. He was clean-shaven, 
 probably from necessity as well as choice. He 
 was only a little over medium height and slight, 
 but with an appearance of strength and manli- 
 ness, being thoroughly masculine down to the 
 smallest of his few gestures. His personality 
 was entirely pleasing. 
 
 It was a most miserable evening that Evelyn 
 spent there on the couch in the darkness. It 
 was chilly. A fog had come in- from the 
 ocean, and she longed for a fire with an exag- 
 gerated longing. It seemed to her that she 
 would be much less unhappy if she were only 
 not so cold. As she lay there shivering, she 
 went over the life that had made her what she 
 was, trying to see if there was any point at 
 which she had deliberately chosen her way. 
 It seemed not. Her steps had always been 
 directed by circumstances. She had never 
 been a free agent, though doubtless (so she 
 admitted to herself) a woman with less love of 
 the flesh-pots and greater consideration for her 
 own dignity would have reduced circumstances 
 to submission by her own will. 
 
 A rich aunt of her father's had adopted her 
 when she was twelve years old, shortly after 
 
34 The Things that Count 
 
 her father's death. She had taken her out of 
 a poor, uncongenial home, and had treated her 
 like her own daughter, but always with the 
 distinct understanding that she was not to be 
 her heiress. Her money was to go back to her 
 husband's family from which it had come. 
 Still, she was a vigorous woman and it was 
 tacitly assumed that she would live to see 
 Evelyn well settled in life. She died sud- 
 denly, however, when Evelyn was twenty, and 
 left her a sum of money in the hands of trust- 
 ees, the income of which, amounting to five 
 hundred dollars a year, was to be hers for life. 
 Evelyn had made a great many friends, and 
 she was first invited to visit one and then an- 
 other until visiting had come to be her regular 
 life. The alternative was living in a lodging- 
 house in Jersey City with a mother who taught 
 elocution and gave readings for a living and a 
 sister who was cashier in a candy-store. It 
 was not an atmosphere that Evelyn felt at 
 home in. She often rebelled against the other 
 life into which she had drifted, but when she 
 thought of the alternative, its objectionable 
 features seemed to matter less. It was un- 
 doubtedly doing her harm morally, but it was 
 not making her acutely, physically unhappy 
 every moment of the day. 
 
 If she had had any especial talent, she would 
 
Enter Richard Palmer 35 
 
 have tried to make a career for herself. If she 
 had even worked at her music when she was 
 younger; but she had preferred playing by ear 
 to practising scales. Or if she had had any 
 resources in herself, she could have gone away 
 into the country somewhere, where she could 
 have had air and sunshine and cleanliness for a 
 small sum. But what would she do with her- 
 self on snowbound days and in long spring 
 twilights ? She liked to read, but one could 
 not read all the time. Besides, she would not 
 be able to get books. There would not even 
 be the need of making herself clothes when 
 she had no opportunities for wearing them. 
 Then, too, she realised that the only satis- 
 factory life for her would be as the wife of a 
 man she loved she was too essentially femi- 
 nine to be satisfied with anything else; and to 
 bury herself in the country would be practi- 
 cally to put an end to that possibility. Evelyn 
 always gave to herself the intention of marry- 
 ing for money, and she most certainly had no 
 intention of marrying without it; but while 
 she reasoned that, by the doctrine of chances, 
 it was impossible that a man with the worldly 
 advantages she considered necessary could have 
 the additional qualifications for arousing her 
 love, yet she inconsistently hoped, almost be- 
 lieved, that the miracle would come to pass. 
 
36 The Things that Count 
 
 At all events, she would not deliberately put 
 herself outside the chance of its happening, 
 and that was what any change in her manner 
 of life would mean. 
 
 At last she got up, slipped off her clothes, 
 and crawled into bed, too utterly miserable to 
 care that she had left them in a heap on the 
 floor instead of arranged in her usual orderly 
 style. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 CRUMBLING IDOLS 
 
 EVELYN kept to herself as much as possible 
 the next day. She put a little distance 
 into her manner to Palmer at luncheon and 
 dinner, being determined not to put herself in 
 the position of making advances that might 
 be ignored. All the time she kept wondering 
 to what motive he would attribute her change 
 of attitude, for it was certain that he would 
 perceive it. He was evidently a man on whom 
 no intention would be lost. Would he think 
 that she had decided that his impecuniosity 
 was not worth pleasing, or simply that she was 
 capricious; or would he think it merely a 
 manoeuvre in the game, an attempt to attract 
 him by an old pose ? She felt a good deal of 
 curiosity on the subject, but there appeared to 
 be no way to satisfy it. 
 
 It was arranged that Dolly should take him 
 that afternoon on a hunt for satisfactory 
 37 
 
38 The Things that Count 
 
 quarters in the neighbourhood. Evelyn went 
 with Mrs. Perkins to return some calls, and on 
 their way back they passed the other two stroll- 
 ing along the wooded road, laughing and talk- 
 ing and having apparently the best kind of a 
 time together. 
 
 The next morning at breakfast, which they 
 all took together on Sunday, Cyril announced 
 that he and Mr. Palmer were going to sail over 
 to Bay Island. 
 
 ' My dear Cyril, I wish that you would go 
 to church with me," protested his mother. 
 "It looks so much better to have a man to sit at 
 the end of the pew. I noticed last Sunday that 
 there was one in nearly every pew except ours. ' ' 
 
 " Not under sixty, I '11 bet." 
 
 " Besides, I am sure Mr. Palmer would pre- 
 fer to go to church with us," she continued, 
 without taking any notice of her son's remark. 
 " Would n't you, Mr. Palmer ? " she asked, 
 appealing directly to that young man. 
 
 " Mrs. Perkins, I have n't been in a boat for 
 two years, and there is a delicious little breeze, 
 and Bay Island has such a mysterious, alluring, 
 mirage-like effect that I am anxious to explore 
 it. Now church I know all about, but I have 
 never, in all my life, been on a little wooded 
 island in the ocean. Excuse me, won't you, 
 please ?" He said this so persuasively that 
 
Crumbling Idols 39 
 
 Mrs. Perkins relented, though she was gener- 
 ally indisposed to accept excuses for staying 
 away from church. 
 
 ' Well, Dolly, you are coming of course ? " 
 " Not if I can persuade Cyril and Mr. Palmer 
 to take me with them. I, too, have an un- 
 satisfied longing to explore Bay Island, and I 
 have had it a great deal longer than Mr. Palmer 
 has had his. I have sailed within shouting 
 distance of it half a dozen times, but there was 
 always some reason why we could n't land. 
 Either it was too late or the tide was n't right, 
 or the wind or something." 
 
 ' Well, Evelyn and I will have to represent 
 the family then," said Mrs. Perkins resignedly, 
 accepting Dolly's words as final, as she always 
 did. 
 
 Evelyn felt humiliated that she was not a 
 free agent as the others were, a feeling that 
 was the keener because the fact was tacitly 
 acknowledged by them all. No one even sug- 
 gested that she should go with them, as polite- 
 ness would have demanded under different 
 circumstances. In addition to her mortifica- 
 tion, she felt a keen pang of disappointment 
 that she should not have the trip. It was not 
 often of late years that she desired any par- 
 ticular thing strongly enough to feel disap- 
 pointed if she could not have it, and the 
 
40 The Things that Count 
 
 intensity of her feeling on this occasion sur- 
 prised her. But the sun was scattering span- 
 gles over the tops of the green waves that an 
 enterprising little breeze had ruffled up. Bay 
 Island lay alluring and approachable in the 
 clear distance, much more attainable than 
 when, as usually happened, a haze veiled its 
 outlines and gave it the mysterious, mirage-like 
 effect of which Palmer had spoken. It would 
 be a delight to sit in the bow and feel the salt 
 on her lips, to let the breeze blow back the hair 
 from her face and the spray curl it in little 
 tight rings. It would be a glimpse of a larger, 
 freer, less perplexing existence, in which per- 
 haps Palmer would divine she would make 
 no effort to prove it to him that she was not 
 yet quite what Cyril represented her to be. 
 But this was not to be. From her window, she 
 watched them set forth down the path through 
 the pines over the sand-dune to the beach. 
 Dolly had on her mackintosh and a Tarn 
 o'Shanter cap that was especially unbecoming, 
 as Evelyn noticed with a satisfaction of which 
 she was very much ashamed when she recog- 
 nised it. She and Cyril had always been 
 allies, and now they seemed to have included 
 Palmer. Evelyn saw in anticipation a number 
 of good times for the three from which she. 
 would necessarily be excluded. 
 
Crumbling Idols 4 1 
 
 Dolly was a continual puzzle to her, and Eve- 
 lyn found herself thinking of her on all occasions. 
 She neglected or fell short of every principle 
 that Evelyn had ever heard laid down or had 
 herself evolved in the art of charming, and yet, 
 someway, she pleased (if she did not charm) in 
 spite of it all. She was plain of feature, 
 stumpy and ungraceful of figure, unskilled in 
 dress, lacking in conventional manners, thor- 
 oughly impolitic, and uncompromisingly truth- 
 ful; yet she did not make enemies. Evelyn 
 liked her, and many loved her, if they did not 
 fall in love with her; and the only reason for 
 this limitation, so Evelyn decided, was that 
 she was hopelessly matter-of-fact. If she had 
 been given a grain more of sentiment, a sus- 
 picion of imagination, men would readily have 
 overlooked her lack of personal charm (so 
 Evelyn thought) and have fallen in love in a 
 genuine, enduring way with her true, lovable 
 self. Evelyn came to the conclusion that the 
 secret of her charm was the absolute kindliness 
 of her nature, her real love for her fellow- 
 creatures. She had the unusual combination 
 of uncommon strength of character and genuine 
 kindness of heart. She had not one trace of 
 envy or jealousy in her composition. Her 
 complete ascendancy over Mrs. Perkins was a 
 revelation. Evelyn had not been at Chenook 
 
42 The Things that Count 
 
 a week before she decided that that lady 
 cared as much for her independent secretary as 
 she had it in her power to care for anybody. 
 Dolly treated her to the bluntest home-truths, 
 took her own way about everything that did 
 not concern her work in the most uncom- 
 promising manner; but the more frank and 
 independent she was, the more Mrs. Perkins 
 deferred to her, while if Evelyn dared to make 
 the smallest stand, she was rebuked or frozen 
 back into submission. Evelyn decided that it 
 was Dolly's perfect cleanness of conscience that 
 made her so fearless and so invincible. She 
 was absolutely disinterested and absolutely 
 sincere. Hers was the attitude of one who has 
 nothing to hide and no favours to ask. There 
 were likewise no truths, or half- or quarter- 
 truths, that Dolly need dread. 
 
 Evelyn went over all this ground again as 
 she was dressing for church. She had finished 
 her lavender and white gown the night before, 
 and she put it on now, together with a hat 
 trimmed with white tulle and violets, for the 
 day promised to be warm. The costume was 
 so becoming that her spirits rose for a few 
 minutes, but dropped again by the time she 
 had gone down-stairs and joined Mrs. Perkins 
 in the carriage. 
 
 As they walked up the steps of the little 
 
Crumbling Idols 43 
 
 church in their pretty summer clothes, Evelyn 
 felt more than ever the contrast between her 
 morning and that of the others, the one 
 limited and conventional, the other free and 
 open. 
 
 Mrs. Perkins performed her devotions so 
 beautifully that Evelyn took a certain ma- 
 licious pleasure in watching her. It was only 
 three years since she had left the fold of Con- 
 gregationalism in which she had been brought 
 up for the more aristocratic enclosures of the 
 Church, as she invariably called it. She took 
 all her postures, did all her genuflections, with 
 the conscious pride in their perfection that 
 only a proselyte feels. Evelyn could imagine 
 her casting a mental eye around and saying: 
 11 Just see me, how well I do it. Did you ever 
 see anything more becomingly reverent, more 
 absolutely churchly, than that little duck of my 
 knees ? And see, I bow clear down to my 
 waist ; and when I kneel, I really kneel. I 
 simply could n't sit on the edge of my seat as 
 some poor Low Church people do." Evelyn 
 herself felt a perverse satisfaction in taking no 
 part in the service whatever, except rising and 
 kneeling at the proper times. At least, they 
 could not deny her that independence. 
 
 The service was conducted better and the 
 church more generously supported than most 
 
44 The Things that Count 
 
 little country churches; for the summer resi- 
 dents gave liberal subscriptions. The rector 
 was musical and the dream of his life was to 
 have a surpliced choir of boys; but as that was 
 an impossibility, he put a great deal of energy 
 into training some of the best voices in the 
 neighbourhood. Usually Evelyn sang too, 
 but to-day she felt too listless. The service 
 was terribly long, as everything that could pos- 
 sibly be sung or intoned was sung or intoned ; 
 and she grew so tired that not even planning 
 new clothes, about which she had special in- 
 spirations in church, could keep her from re- 
 membering how bored she was. She knew 
 that she was unjust, but the worship did not 
 seem genuine to her. She felt that she would 
 have been much more ready to believe in the 
 sincerity of the worshippers if the form had 
 not been made so prominent. The majority 
 of minds to whom candles, robes, decorations, 
 and other small material objects were of vital 
 importance, who gave an artificial value to 
 trifles which had none in themselves, could 
 hardly be large enough to grasp the spiritual 
 truths which were supposed to lie back of the 
 form. 
 
 Evelyn caught herself up with a mental 
 start when she found these thoughts going 
 through her head. They were heresy to all 
 
Crumbling Idols 45 
 
 her ideals. If she once questioned the value 
 of form in anything, she would have to ac- 
 knowledge that her life had been a hideous 
 failure. Her thoughts went back to the days 
 when she had first gone to live with her aunt, 
 when the beauty of the Church service had 
 been a revelation to her, brought up as she had 
 been in the nakedness of Presbyterianism. 
 Then the lights on the altar, the flowers, the 
 music had given her the same sensuous enjoy- 
 ment that a sentimental love-story or the sound 
 of a violin gave. For a time she had mistaken 
 the satisfaction of gratified senses for a religious 
 impulse, and went to church on saints' days, 
 and denied herself butter and other harmless 
 indulgences in Lent with a conscious pride in 
 the aesthetic and social superiority of the 
 Church. This phantom of religion had dis- 
 appeared, together with the taste for Mrs. 
 Browning, "The Duchess," and Tosti's songs, 
 at the dawning of a truer knowledge of the 
 world. It had not been a genuine feeling, 
 simply one of the many illusions of the days 
 when young ladyhood was veiled in a mist of 
 romance and sentimental interest, and the out- 
 lines of her ignorance had been so vast that 
 there was room for all possibilities within their 
 boundaries. 
 
 It gave her a shock to discover all at once 
 
46 The Things that Count 
 
 how far she had drifted from the feelings of 
 those days without being conscious of it. 
 She had been drifting when she supposed, or 
 would have supposed if she had thought about 
 it, that she was securely tied. She had be- 
 lieved herself to be in sympathy with the 
 Church service, and in a moment, as it were, 
 she found herself in an antagonistic attitude 
 towards it. She had believed it a giant, and 
 lo ! it appeared to her in the guise of a dwarf. 
 It made her remember a dolls' house that she 
 had admired and coveted in her childhood, a 
 huge structure, as big and as imposing as the 
 Waldorf-Astoria. She had seen it again, after 
 an interval of several years, and it was no 
 larger than a big dry-goods box. Her present 
 discovery frightened her, for it was for the 
 form, the outside appearance of things, the 
 way they were staged, that she had sacrificed 
 her independence and the respect of many of 
 her acquaintances. If she lost her belief in the 
 supreme importance of form, what was there 
 left for her ? Her present life would be no 
 longer possible. 
 
 Now that this idea had once introduced itself 
 into her brain, a thousand instances of this 
 terrifying new tendency of hers came in its 
 wake. Society was no longer God to her. 
 Trifles which she had deified into principles 
 
Crumbling Idols 47 
 
 no longer seemed of vital importance. It was 
 no longer sufficient for her that a person should 
 be prominent in the social world to make the 
 acquaintance desirable. She demanded per- 
 sonal importance as well, and if she found that, 
 as in Palmer, for instance, the other seemed to 
 matter less and less. Even her clothes were 
 not so absorbing as they once had been, for she 
 noticed in herself a growing tendency to de- 
 preciate trifling differences in sleeves, stocks, 
 and the cut of skirts. She had been wearing 
 a linen skirt of last year's pattern quite com- 
 fortably for a couple of days. She had noticed, 
 too (so she thought as she proceeded in her 
 self-examination), she had noticed an indiffer- 
 ence, a negligence in the matter of social duties. 
 It was simply an unessential trifle that it was 
 better to observe, not a principle any longer, 
 that first calls should be returned, or dinner 
 calls made, within a week. What did it matter 
 anyway ? Her mail had ceased to interest her, 
 now that possible invitations were no longer 
 alluring. What did she care if Mrs. Croesus 
 invited her to dinner, when the only possible 
 advantage to be gained would be further invi- 
 tations to entertainments that would bore her 
 as much as this one would ? 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 A COMPACT 
 
 SHE expressed a little of what had been 
 passing in her mind to Dolly that after- 
 noon when the two girls were sitting on the 
 edge of the pine wood by the ocean. Evelyn 
 was lying on the sand with a novel that she 
 was not reading when Dolly came and joined 
 her. The sailing - party had been late to 
 luncheon and she had not seen any of them 
 before. Dolly had changed her gown and was 
 more harmoniously dressed than usual, but her 
 face was badly sunburned. 
 
 ' I went to your room just now, but I 
 could n't find you, and nobody had seen any- 
 thing of you, so I guessed that you were over 
 here somewhere," she said, flinging herself 
 down on the warm sand, which was strewn with 
 a coating of brown needles. ' What have 
 you been doing with yourself all day ? " 
 
 ' Thinking mostly. After luncheon I came 
 4 8 
 
A Compact 49 
 
 out here to read, but I have n't read a word. 
 I have been thinking hard." She paused and 
 then went on: " I was just wondering how it 
 would be if I lived on the west side of a con- 
 tinent and the sun set in the ocean. Do you 
 know, I think it would be more appropriate 
 some way. Perhaps it is owing to a picture in 
 my geography, but when I think of the sun's 
 setting, I always think of it as setting in the 
 ocean. Don't you know a fiery disc with a 
 fan of rays spreading out from it, like half a 
 sunflower ? It is the typical sunset to me." 
 
 " I always think of it as behind a purplish- 
 blue mountain ridge with a fringe of trees on 
 the top," said Dolly. " But you have n't 
 spent the whole day thinking about sunsets ? " 
 
 " No," Evelyn answered slowly; " of life 
 and things, of course. But as soon as I started 
 to speak of them, they seemed so immense that 
 I slid off into something less awful. I have 
 been thinking of how our attitude keeps chang- 
 ing, as we go on in life, toward things that have 
 been of great consequence to us. We get a 
 different set of values every little while and 
 find ourselves forced, often against our wills, 
 to let the old ones go. Now I would a hun- 
 dred times rather feel as I used to feel about 
 lots of things, the Church service, for instance. 
 It is a distinct loss for me to have to let my 
 
50 The Things that Count 
 
 reverence for it go, to have to realise that it is 
 giving symbols a false importance, that it does 
 actual harm in deifying trifles and so spoiling 
 true standards of value." 
 
 " I love the Prayer Book as a piece of litera- 
 ture," said Dolly. 
 
 " So do I. The mere sound of the words 
 of it soothes me. It is so smooth, so harmoni- 
 ous; and it is such a relief to be spared the bad 
 taste of individuals and to get instead a se- 
 ries of the most exquisitely worded petitions, 
 adapted to the needs of every human being 
 so far as anyone else can know them. Yes, 
 I love the Prayer Book, but I hate (I wish I 
 did n't) dippings and bowings and bendings 
 and turning this way and that, and special 
 altar-cloths for special days, and all the things 
 of that sort. Of course if it could be done in 
 a casual, by-the-way fashion, as if it were of as 
 little consequence as it really is, one would n't 
 think of it at all to criticise it ; but most people 
 can't go in for that sort of thing without los- 
 ing sight of the fact that they are not ends in 
 themselves. But this is only one instance of a 
 hundred that have been troubling me. Do 
 you know, I actually hung back a little and 
 escaped an introduction to Mrs. Lorrimer when 
 she spoke to Mrs. Perkins after church to-day. 
 There is no doubt that the Lonimers are of 
 
A Compact 51 
 
 the truly great socially, but I have never cared 
 for her looks, and I felt lazy and it did n't seem 
 to matter. It was too much trouble to impress 
 her with the fact that I counted. I am dread- 
 fully afraid that the fear of being bored is get- 
 ting more important to me than any other 
 consideration. I wonder what has come over 
 me." 
 
 " It is that new little soul," said Dolly. 
 :< How big do you suppose it is now ? " 
 
 It is growing fast, I am afraid. It is get- 
 ting uncomfortable. I feel dreadfully cramped 
 for room sometimes." 
 
 ' What do you suppose set you off on this 
 tack ? " Dolly asked, for she had a lively curi- 
 osity in her friends' mental workings, though 
 not much given to introspection herself. 
 
 I don't know, but I have always fancied 
 that I have never been quite the same since a 
 small affair that I had several years ago. It 's 
 not very interesting. It was when I was espe- 
 cially enamoured of the flesh-pots. Happiness 
 and possessions were synonymous with me. I 
 could n't understand how people could be con- 
 tent who did n't have at least the use of 
 broughams and maids. I felt that they were 
 pretending if they seemed to be, or else that 
 they did n't know. Well, a young man came 
 upon the scene just then and I fell a little in 
 
52 The Things that Count 
 
 love with him, for the first time in my life. 
 Before that I had no real conception of what 
 it meant. You can imagine what a strong hold 
 the lust of wealth had over me when I tell you 
 that I resisted the terrible fascination of the 
 feeling (oh, how I wanted to give in to it and 
 just let myself drift, no matter where it took 
 me !) and deliberately strangled the thing in its 
 infancy.'* 
 
 " How did you do it ? " asked Dolly, with 
 the greatest interest. 
 
 " By the only possible method, absence and 
 a complete embargo on dreams. I literally 
 never let myself think of him." 
 
 " And how about the young man ? How 
 did you dispose of him ? " 
 
 " I deliberately snubbed him in a way no 
 man could forgive." 
 ' Was he so poor ? " 
 
 ' He was poor, but that would n't have 
 been so insurmountable, for he was very clever, 
 if he had not had a mother and two sis- 
 ters one an invalid and the other a widow 
 with a child to support. I never knew a 
 man so tied. I heard a little while afterwards 
 that the invalid sister had died, and that the 
 other had married again, very well, and had 
 taken her mother to live with her." 
 
 " And did n't you feel sorry then ? " 
 
A Compact 53 
 
 " I did. But you can see how strong this 
 need has always been in me. I think that 
 there are not many women (you can say ' thank 
 heaven ! ' if you like) who would have been 
 able to do what I did. I have sacrificed so 
 much to that fixed idea of mine that now the 
 thought of letting it go dismays me." 
 
 " And have you never seen him again ? " 
 
 " Yes. I used to see him at parties at first, 
 but we never did anything more than exchange 
 bows, and then I lost sight of him altogether 
 until about three months ago. I sat next to 
 him at a dinner. I could see that I was no 
 longer of any consequence to him. He had 
 even forgotten that he had ever had reason to 
 be angry with me." 
 
 " And of course you said nothing to him 
 about the past ?" 
 
 " No; but I should have if circumstances 
 had been different. I knew that he had been 
 thinking hard things of me all that time and 
 that it would be impossible for him not to mis- 
 judge my motives. He would think that I 
 was trying to get in with him now that he was 
 better off and that my other matrimonial 
 schemes had failed ; and it would be natural 
 for him to think that my little story was made 
 up to cover a mistake; or, even if he believed 
 it, he would think that I was making capital 
 
54 The Things that Count 
 
 out of it. Circumstances were against me. If 
 I had only been in a better position, if I had 
 been married, for instance! " 
 
 " And so he will never know ? " 
 
 " I am afraid not. And yet, it would have 
 been such fun to tell him. It would have been 
 such an interesting situation." 
 
 How did you feel towards him ? " 
 
 " Glad to see him in a way, but perfectly 
 cold. The glory and the dream had gone from 
 him." She paused and then went on: " And 
 then, of course, there was the feeling that my 
 motives might not be as disinterested as I 
 should wish him to think they were. He is a 
 man who will have the requisite twenty-five 
 thousand a year some day, I am sure. It was 
 a lost opportunity. Can't you imagine my 
 telling it to him right in the middle of din- 
 ner," she broke off, " with each of us turning 
 to make occasional remarks to our neighbours 
 and neither of us looking as if we were talking 
 of anything more vital than the orchids on the 
 table ?" 
 
 " It is all so strange to me," Dolly remarked 
 thoughtfully. " I have never been in love in 
 my life. To be sure, I have not had much of 
 a chance. I was in college so long, and I have 
 been with Mrs. Perkins almost ever since. I 
 have met men occasionally at Uncle Twiller's, 
 
A Compact 55 
 
 but I never saw enough of them for them to 
 find out that I am nicer than I look. I have 
 never been in love, and everybody says that I 
 am hopelessly unsentimental; but if what I 
 read is true, I can't imagine deliberately pre- 
 ferring anything else to it as you did, especially 
 purple and fine linen, mere possessions. What 
 sort of a young man was he ? Would he have 
 done to marry otherwise ? " 
 
 Evelyn laughed as she answered : 
 
 " They say that you can never tell that till 
 you try ; but, all the same, I should have been 
 willing to risk it. He had such unfailing good 
 taste and was so kind-hearted, and yet was 
 strong and manly. I believe that he is consid- 
 ered an unusual man. Well, he is out of my 
 reach now. I heard a little while ago that he is 
 engaged to a very fine woman. Perhaps he is 
 married by this time. That was one chance 
 that little Evelyn flung away." 
 
 " I wonder if he cared long." The story 
 evidently interested Dolly. 
 
 " I fancy not. You see I killed his faith in 
 me, and Arthur (that was his name) was n't 'a 
 man to love for long a woman whom he did n't 
 respect. But come, Dolly, we have talked 
 about me and my affairs long enough. Some- 
 way, we always seem to drift into that subject 
 when we are alone together. I suppose that I 
 
56 The Things that Count 
 
 am a terrible egotist, all the more so because 
 I have to suppress it and keep myself in the 
 background so much of the time. Let 's talk 
 about you for a change." 
 
 ' There is n't anything to say. There 's 
 nothing interesting about me." 
 
 ' Why, the fact that you 've never been in 
 love is very interesting. I should n't fancy 
 that you would care easily, but when you do, 
 you '11 probably take it hard. Happy Cyril," 
 she added mischievously. 
 
 ' Evelyn Smith!" Dolly exclaimed indig- 
 nantly, sitting up straight. " How can you 
 insinuate such a thing! And the worst of it 
 is that I believe you are half in earnest about 
 it." 
 
 ' Why should n't I be ? It is easy to see 
 that he adores you." 
 
 " Cyril adore anybody! Besides, he is a 
 hundred years younger than 1." 
 
 " Not four in actual count. He is a boy 
 now, but just wait a few years and you won't 
 feel the difference between )'ou. I only wish 
 he had not the bad taste to dislike me so par- 
 ticularly. I would n't mind half a dozen 
 years, more or less, to my advantage." 
 
 " Evelyn," Dolly began impressively, lower- 
 ing her voice, " would you take Mrs. Perkins 
 for a mother-in-law ? " 
 
A Compact 57 
 
 " Cyril's wife would not see much of her. 
 He 'd attend to that." 
 
 " Would you really marry him if you 
 could ? " Dolly asked gravely. 
 
 " Seriously ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " No, I would n't. Do you believe me ? " 
 
 " I do. " Both the girls were silent for a few 
 minutes. It was Evelyn who spoke first. 
 
 " Shall I say ' Happy Richard,' then ? " she 
 asked lightly. 
 
 " I shall never have the chance to make him 
 happy, though I believe I could if he only 
 knew it," Dolly answered soberly. " He will 
 never discover it though," she added thought- 
 fully. 
 
 " He seems to like you tremendously." 
 
 Oh, yes, he likes me." She stopped and 
 then went on a little abruptly: " Evelyn, I 
 want to tell you something. I am suffering 
 from a horrible temptation, and you are con- 
 cerned in it." 
 
 ' That sounds interesting. Is Mr. Palmer 
 in it too ? " 
 
 ' Yes. See here. He is the first young 
 man that I have known in my life that I felt I 
 could make a real friend of. I shall never fall 
 in love with him, partly because I realise the 
 absolute hopelessness of his ever coming to 
 
58 The Things that Count 
 
 care for me. I am not a woman to cherish an 
 unrequited affection. I am too practical, too 
 matter-of-fact, too unsentimental. If he cared 
 for me, no doubt I should respond, but I shall 
 never care for him as it is." 
 
 ' Where do I come in ? " Evelyn asked as 
 she paused. 
 
 " Have patience. I am coming to you. Now 
 you know (you told me yourself) Mr. Palmer 
 has heard things about you from Cyril that 
 prejudice him against you. At least, I sup- 
 pose that he is prejudiced. He has not spoken 
 of you to me. Now if I let him continue to 
 think the things he does, I shall probably en- 
 joy all summer what I have longed for all my 
 life, the friendship of a man who is truly worth 
 while. If, on the contrary, he finds out that 
 you are only misguided, not vicious, he will 
 probably have no more time or attention for 
 me. No, don't say anything until I give you 
 permission. I have a lot to say yet. Now I 
 don't think he will fall in love with you, though 
 I really don't see how a man with eyes in his 
 head can help doing it. He is a person who 
 demands a tremendous amount of the woman 
 he loves, I can see that. Besides, he seems to 
 have known a great many women. Cyril told 
 me that they ran after him in droves, which is 
 probably a slight exaggeration. Still, he is 
 
A Compact 59 
 
 very good to look at, as you know, and a thor- 
 oughly nice fellow, besides being head and 
 shoulders cleverer than any man I have ever 
 known. He has a certain little indifference 
 about other people's opinion of him that is 
 fetching. Now here comes the important 
 thing if I were sure that he would not fall in 
 love with you, if I were even surer of you. 
 You see I believe in you, in your good faith 
 thoroughly; but, after all, I have only your 
 own word and my own intuitions to go on, 
 while your whole life and everything I have 
 ever heard about you tell a different story. I 
 don't want you to make a plaything of him; 
 he is too good for that. I hate the idea of his 
 being unhappy about another woman and that 
 woman you. I am afraid it would affect my 
 friendship for you, and I can't bear the idea 
 of a man's corning between us when we are get- 
 ting to be such good friends. Friendship is so 
 much to me. Besides, it seems so vulgar. I 
 have such a strong instinct that it is for the 
 best to keep you two apart, as I can so easily 
 do by simply holding my tongue. Then, he 
 matters so little to you, just a little more 
 amusement of a kind you have had so much 
 of, and he is the first real man friend whom I 
 have ever had. And yet, how do I know that 
 it is not simply jealousy that is influencing 
 
60 The Things that Count 
 
 me ? It did n't seem so at first, but it looks 
 more and more like it as I put it into words, a 
 sort of impersonal jealousy of a stronger inter- 
 est, not a personal jealousy of a woman. I 
 believe that it is all casuistry ; and I have set- 
 tled my problem. I shall talk to him about 
 you the first chance I get." 
 
 ' You don't ask me for any promises ? " 
 " No; I put you on your honour. You 
 must n't even try by not trying. I mean, you 
 must n't work the indifferent. I think it 
 might be effective, as I notice that he can't 
 help looking at you when he thinks no one 
 sees him. If his attention were not first at- 
 tracted, however, I fancy one might try it for- 
 ever without any effect." 
 
 ' That would be all very well if I were going 
 to play with him, which I am not," Evelyn 
 began energetically. " See here, Dolly, I 
 don't want you to talk to him about me. I 
 have a strong fancy to see if he won't come to 
 think differently of me of his own accord. It 
 is such an interesting experiment. I don't 
 mean to do a thing, but just be perfectly pass- 
 ive and see what will happen." Dolly looked 
 at her keenly, evidently suspecting a self-sacri- 
 ficing motive, but Evelyn's words and tone 
 sounded genuine and her face was innocent of 
 anything more than her words expressed. 
 
A Compact 61 
 
 " You are really in earnest, not just being 
 unselfish ? Oh dear, I wish that I were n't so 
 glad that you don't want me to ! It makes me 
 ashamed of myself, but I can sympathise with 
 the feeling you speak of." 
 
 " It 's more than I can/' Evelyn said to her- 
 self, but she still looked innocent. " Dolly 
 shall have her chance," she thought mag- 
 nanimously. 
 
 " What do you suppose Mr. Palmer is doing 
 now ? " Dolly went on presently. 
 
 " I can't imagine." 
 
 " He is out in that old tool-house where 
 Cyril has had his batteries and things put, and 
 Cyril is explaining all his old machines to him. 
 The door was open and as I came by I heard 
 them talking away about horse-powers and 
 candle-powers at a great rate. It is just part 
 of his good sense that he interests himself in 
 what Cyril cares most about. They were 
 talking electricity in the boat this morning. 
 Do you know, the boy is really studying. He 
 actually seems to like his work, and this morn- 
 ing he asked me a question about a point in 
 Greek grammar that he had evidently been 
 puzzling about. It is such a good sign, his 
 thinking of his work when he is away from his 
 books. I think that he is beginning to be 
 reconciled to the idea of going to college. 
 
62 The Things that Count 
 
 Mr. Palmer has succeeded in persuading him 
 that the studies he despises are an important 
 preparation for life, and that every bit of extra 
 drill a man's mind gets is just so much gain in 
 any work he sets out to do. Cyril can special- 
 ise in science very soon at college, and there 
 will be only a little delay. It is n't as if he were 
 limited in time. He won't have to work for 
 a living, but can give his whole life up to ex- 
 perimenting later on if he likes. Mr. Palmer 
 says that there is no doubt of his getting in 
 this fall if he wants to. You know it is only 
 in Latin and Greek that he is behindhand." 
 
 I liked his not letting Cyril work on Sun- 
 days," said Evelyn. 
 
 " It shows good sense. And he makes him 
 take some vigorous exercise every day. The 
 best of it is that he is getting really interested 
 in Cyril, and I think he can do wonders for 
 him. But, Evelyn, I meant to undeceive you 
 about Cyril and me, but we got off on some- 
 thing else. Cyril likes me as if I were his 
 sister. He has n't an atom of sentiment for 
 me and never will have, like all the rest of 
 them. He is much more likely to fall in love 
 with you. All the novels say that it is a good 
 thing to start with a little aversion." 
 
 ;< Here comes the conquering hero now," 
 said Evelyn. " He has shaken Cyril and seems 
 
A Compact 63 
 
 to be looking for us. " Dolly sat up and waved 
 her hat at him. 
 
 " Oh, here you are ! " he exclaimed. M Mrs. 
 Perkins asked me to find you, Miss Van Horn. 
 She wants to consult you about a letter she has 
 just received." 
 
 ' You ought not to have to work on Sun- 
 days," said Evelyn. 
 
 " Oh, I know what it is. It is something 
 that I am very much interested in. Well, I 
 must go." 
 
 " I 'm coming too," said Evelyn. " But 
 don't you people wait for me. It will take me 
 some minutes to collect iy belongings, which 
 are strewn all along the shore." 
 
 ' Let me help you," said Palmer, making a 
 beginning by picking up her handkerchief, 
 while Dolly hurried off through the pines. 
 " Is n't this a perfect place for a lazy Sunday 
 afternoon ? " he said. 
 
 ' ' Yes, ' ' she replied. ' ' It 's an ideal arrange- 
 ment, having the pines come down to the 
 beach. And they look so natural, too. I was 
 surprised to hear that they had been planted." 
 
 "It is nice having the warm sand and the 
 shade at the same time," said Palmer. " I 
 suppose it gets so thoroughly heated through 
 in the morning that it retains the heat." 
 
 " And it is nice to lie here and watch the 
 
64 The Things that Count 
 
 surf on days when it is rough," she continued. 
 
 There is one little cleft in those rocks out 
 there where it rushes up with a sound like a 
 cannon and bursts out at the top in a fountain of 
 spray. We had a storm the first week we came, 
 and it was grand after it. My hat is under 
 that far tree. Now I think I have everything. 
 I brought those books so as to have a choice 
 of literature and did n't open one of them." 
 
 ' Why are you in such a hurry ? " Palmer 
 asked as she started up the path which zig- 
 zagged through the pines up the sand-dune. 
 
 ' It must be time to dress for dinner." 
 
 He looked at his watch but said nothing. 
 
 " How did you like Bay Island ? Did it 
 come up to your expectations?" she asked 
 presently. 
 
 " We did n't get there at all. Did n't Miss 
 Van Horn tell you ? The wind was dying 
 down so that we did n't dare go more than 
 half-way. We did n't want to row back. As 
 it was, we were nearly becalmed." 
 
 ' You can console yourself with the thought 
 that you would probably have been disap- 
 pointed in it." 
 
 " It is quite probable," he answered. 
 
 They said nothing more until they were ap- 
 proaching the house. Then he remarked 
 quietly : 
 
A Compact 65 
 
 " You seem to have very little use for my 
 society, Miss Smith." 
 
 ' You see I happen to have the advantage 
 of knowing your opinion of me, Mr. Palmer. 
 I don't care to be approached in spite of your 
 better judgment." 
 
 I don't see how you can know my opinion, 
 whatever it may be, or how you can be sure 
 that you are right." He spoke with the ut- 
 most composure. 
 
 I will tell you. The night you came I 
 overheard Cyril giving you his opinion of my 
 character, and there is no reason why you 
 should believe him to be mistaken. In fact, I 
 think that appearances bear him out. I had 
 gone out into the garden to get something and 
 as I passed under the library windows, I heard 
 his words. I had not known that you were 
 there." Palmer was silent for a minute before 
 he said gravely, keeping his eyes on the gravel 
 path: 
 
 ' You do not deny any of his charges. You 
 surely do not admit that they are true ? " 
 
 On the contrary, I think that there is a 
 great deal of truth in them," Evelyn an- 
 swered decidedly, leaving him witho'ut another 
 word. 
 
 When she reached her room, she sat down 
 
 on the edge of her bed, without even stopping 
 s 
 
66 The Things that Count 
 
 to take off her hat, and began to haul herself 
 over the coals. 
 
 ' Evelyn Smith, I am ashamed of you," she 
 said to herself. " Can't you be absolutely 
 true for once ? It was a mean thing to do. 
 You knew that it would make an interesting 
 situation to tell him that and you did it de- 
 liberately. You have n't even the excuse of 
 forgetting. Do you think it was fair ? Do 
 you think Dolly would ever have done the 
 same to you ? Of course not. She is to be 
 trusted. It shall not happen again, anyway. 
 It was a low trick. To try and steal poor little 
 Dolly's ewe-lamb, the only one she has ever 
 had, when you have had flocks of your own ! 
 And you have n't even the excuse of being 
 really interested in him. You are only a little 
 piqued. Well, it 's the last time," she con- 
 tinued, finishing her scolding and proceeding 
 to make new resolutions. "I '11 make myself as 
 negative as possible henceforth. I won't even 
 let myself appear an interesting mystery and I 
 won't try the indifferent pose. It was clever 
 of Dolly to suspect me of that. Dear me! 
 I 'm ashamed of myself. I told her I was n't 
 vain, and I suppose that I 'm not in one way ; 
 but what was this but a concession to vanity ? 
 I want everybody worth while to burn a little 
 incense. What a brute I am ! Poor little 
 
A Compact 67 
 
 Dolly! If men only knew what was good for 
 them! She would be a hundred times more 
 satisfactory for a wife than I should be. I '11 
 wager that a man who had been married to her 
 for three years would love her infinitely better 
 than he would me under the same circum- 
 stances. I admit I 'd be nicer for the honey- 
 moon. Dear me, how nice I should be for 
 that! I don't believe Dolly has any little 
 ways, though she might have if she fell in 
 love. That makes such a difference with any 
 woman. Well, anyway, her little ways would n't 
 be so nice as mine. I 'd be an artist in honey- 
 moons. Could n't I make it interesting for 
 the right man ! He would not get tired of me 
 very easily, for it would only be in unguarded 
 moments that he 'd feel sure of me. He 
 should n't have all of me all the time, but 
 once in a while I 'd just flood him with my 
 whole self. He should have all of me, body 
 and soul, and he would n't forget those mo- 
 ments all his life through. I don't mean that 
 I 'd be deliberate in this. I would n't hold 
 myself back from policy if my impulse was to 
 be generous of myself; it is only that I know 
 my impulses would act this way. I suppose it 
 is dreadful, but I 'd a thousand times rather be 
 myself with all my faults and deficiencies than 
 Dolly, fine woman that she is; and yet, I 
 
68 The Things that Count 
 
 should n't wonder if she were of more conse- 
 quence than I am when she is forty. I don't 
 see that it has to be so, though. I am cleverer 
 than she is, if I have n't had a good education. 
 If I got among the right surroundings, I feel 
 that, even now, I have it in me to become much 
 more of a woman than I am. If I only had 
 five thousand a year instead of five hundred, 
 what a saint I 'd be ! Everybody would be 
 admiring me instead of blaming me then. I 
 wonder what Mr. Palmer would think of me 
 under those circumstances. Evelyn, my dear, 
 that was a masterly stroke of yours, if I am 
 ashamed of you for making it. Oh, Dolly, I 
 will be fair! I promise you. You shall have 
 him if my keeping out of it will help at all." 
 
 A sudden consciousness that it was dinner- 
 time and that she had n't even begun to dress 
 yet broke in upon Evelyn's meditations at this 
 point. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 EVELYN BREAKS FAITH 
 
 SHE hurried all she could, but still she was 
 late to dinner. Mr. Palmer was even 
 later, however. Evelyn was sorry for that, 
 because she was afraid that Dolly would think 
 that they had lingered together on the beach. 
 Accordingly, she said something to her about 
 neither of them having any excuse for being 
 late, as they had reached the house not five 
 minutes after she did. Mrs. Perkins was 
 usually severe on tardiness, but she was in a 
 gracious mood that night and the offenders 
 went unpunished. 
 
 " George Scott is dead, Mrs. Perkins. They 
 sent you a marked paper," Dolly remarked 
 presently. 
 
 " At last ! Well, I suppose it is a blessing." 
 14 I wonder what his that woman will do," 
 said Dolly. 
 
 1 Who is George Scott ? " Cyril demanded. 
 6 9 
 
70 The Things that Count 
 
 " He is a man who has been dying of con- 
 sumption for a long time. Mrs. Black found 
 him nearly destitute. A woman was living 
 with him, taking care of him. She had been 
 living with him for five years, but he could n't 
 marry her, for he had a wife of his own some- 
 where who would n't get a divorce." 
 
 ' Why not ? " Cyril asked, showing such an 
 unusual interest in his mother's remarks that 
 she was flattered and answered graciously : 
 
 ' ' She had principles against divorce. ' ' Cyril 
 gave utterance to an inarticulate expression of 
 disgust, but Mrs. Perkins continued: "Of 
 course I could n't encourage them in im- 
 morality by helping them while they stayed 
 together. I gave them assistance on the con- 
 dition that she left him. She would n't con- 
 sent at first, but she had to finally. They 
 were both all alone in the world and had no- 
 body to go to for help." 
 
 " And who took care of him ? " 
 
 " We sent him to a hospital and found work 
 for her." 
 
 " Did they like being separated ? " 
 
 " No, I believe they made a great fuss about 
 it, but I could n't encourage such things, of 
 course. I gave orders at the hospital that she 
 should not be admitted to him." 
 
 " That is the most cold-blooded thing I ever 
 
Evelyn Breaks Faith 7 1 
 
 heard of in my life!" It was Evelyn who 
 spoke. They all turned to her with a sense of 
 great surprise. It was not often that she spoke 
 on the opposite side. Evelyn was surprised 
 herself at her courage, and would have unsaid 
 her words if she could. Since that was not 
 possible, she stuck to them bravely. " I can't 
 understand taking from a dying man his one 
 comfort. What harm did it do anyone ? The 
 woman's reputation was already gone. It 
 could n't save that. I can't understand a re- 
 ligion that could encourage one to do so cruel 
 a thing. " Mrs. Perkins flushed. She was evi- 
 dently going to make some crushing answer, 
 but Cyril broke in and silenced her. 
 
 " Good for you, Miss Smith! " he exclaimed, 
 giving Evelyn the first sign of approval that 
 she had ever had from him. " That 's just 
 what I say. And you knew it and let it go 
 on ? " he added, turning to Dolly. 
 
 I thought it was a pity, but I did n't see 
 what else to do," Dolly explained. " I don't 
 see how we could have let them stay together. " 
 Mrs. Perkins's face relaxed when she found 
 that Dolly was on her side and included in the 
 condemnation. 
 
 " I must say that I 'm disappointed in you. 
 I 'd have expected it of my mother, but not 
 of you. I 'd have expected you to be more 
 
72 The Things that Count 
 
 liberal-minded. How long ago was that?" 
 he demanded. 
 
 " About a month. It was just before we 
 came here," Dolly answered. 
 
 Cyril shrugged his shoulders disdainfully,, 
 and Palmer came to .the rescue with a question 
 to Mrs. Perkins about her hospital work. He 
 devoted himself to her for the rest of the meal, 
 and after dinner strolled out on the lawn with 
 her. Dinner was earlier on Sundays and it was 
 still twilight. Dolly disappeared and Evelyn 
 went to the drawing-room and, sitting down at 
 the piano, began to play for her own amuse- 
 ment. She had no especial technique, but her 
 music always gave pleasure. She could play 
 almost anything that was asked for, if not by 
 note, by ear. Her touch was unusually sympa- 
 thetic and pleasing. 
 
 Presently she was conscious that Cyril was 
 standing by the piano in the half-light. 
 
 "I say, that was bully!" he exclaimed. 
 " What was it ? " 
 
 " Something of Schumann's. I 'm not quite 
 sure what. I don't believe I play it correctly. 
 Indeed, I think I have jumbled two things up 
 together. My renderings are not above sus- 
 picion," Evelyn answered, remembering for 
 the first time that she had heard that Cyril was 
 very fond of music. 
 
Evelyn Breaks Faith 73 
 
 " Play something more, won't you ? " he 
 asked, with more graciousness of manner than 
 he had ever used towards her. 
 
 " I see the way to tame this bear, but I 
 won't do it. I '11 be perfectly true, Dolly," 
 Evelyn said to herself. And so she made no 
 effort to establish their relations on a pleasanter 
 basis, and, after playing a few minutes longer, 
 got up and left the room, with a little apology 
 to Cyril, feeling very virtuous. She had made 
 up her mind to let Dolly have her chance, and 
 she would keep her word to herself at any sac- 
 rifice. It would be only too easy to lead up to 
 a cessation of hostilities by propitiating Cyril. 
 
 Palmer moved into his new quarters, which 
 he had engaged, at Dolly's suggestion, at the 
 Andrews's farm, and after that was with them 
 only at luncheon. At least, that was the ar- 
 rangement, but Mrs. Perkins was constantly 
 detaining him to dinner on one pretext or an- 
 other, though he evaded her invitations as often 
 as he could. His friendship with Dolly pro- 
 gressed. They often went off together in the 
 afternoon, when Cyril was studying. Several 
 times Evelyn had difficulty in repersuading 
 Dolly not to sing her praises to Palmer. Her 
 honest little soul could not rid itself of the idea 
 that she was doing Evelyn an injustice, in spite 
 of the latter's assurances that she liked it better 
 
74 The Things that Count 
 
 so, that it was more interesting as it was, and 
 she frequently asked Evelyn to release her from 
 her promise to be silent. Evelyn felt very 
 virtuous. ;< Dolly shall have her chance," she 
 said to herself on all occasions, and, for the 
 most part, she kept her word. Perhaps she 
 did not deserve any credit, for the belief began 
 to dawn upon her that her policy, honestly as- 
 sumed as it was, was having a different effect 
 from the one intended. She was conscious 
 that Palmer's curiosity, if nothing more, was 
 increasingly aroused by her attitude towards 
 him. It was hard for her not to accentuate 
 the indifference and heighten the mystery, as 
 she knew so well how to do, but she bravely 
 resisted the temptation. 
 
 She had the further satisfaction of feeling 
 that, in spite of her inaction, Cyril was coming 
 to have a different opinion of her from the one 
 which he had when he arrived. She was much 
 more conscious of the change in him in this re- 
 spect than in Palmer. With the latter, she 
 always felt that he was attracted to her in spite 
 of himself. 
 
 One hot afternoon at about four o'clock 
 Dolly and Cyril started out for a sail. There 
 was only a faint little breeze, but Cyril was 
 convinced that it was strengthening, and also 
 that it would be much more forcible out from 
 
Evelyn Breaks Faith 75 
 
 the shore. Mrs. Perkins was invited out to din- 
 ner, so they ordered a late supper and planned 
 going all the way to Bay Island. Evelyn took 
 her sewing out into the garden in search of 
 Cyril's breeze, trying to imagine that it was 
 cooler there than in the house. 
 
 After a little, she noticed with pleasure that 
 the sky was clouding over, and at about seven 
 she was startled by a sudden gust of wind which 
 came sweeping across the lawn, scattering the 
 ribbon and lace out of which she was making 
 a stock for Dolly. It was closely followed by 
 another, and, looking up, she saw that the sky 
 was now closely covered with dark purplish- 
 blue, murderous-looking clouds. She picked 
 up her work and started for the house, but a 
 loud peal of thunder boomed forth before she 
 could reach it. An intensity of apprehension 
 such as she never remembered feeling came 
 over her, although she was always more fright- 
 ened than she cared to acknowledge at a 
 thunder-storm, especially if she were alone. 
 Her first thought after she was in the house, 
 where the servants were rushing around, shut- 
 ting the windows, was that Mrs. Perkins would 
 be safe at her destination, and then, for the 
 first time, she remembered Dolly and Cyril out 
 on the ocean in a small boat. She felt sud- 
 denly sick with fear for them. 
 
76 The Things that Count 
 
 Fiery zigzags of lightning shot across the sky, 
 followed almost immediately by deafening peals 
 of thunder. Rain began to dash against the win- 
 dow-panes as if determined to get in, whether 
 or no. Blue-white sheets of it filled the air. 
 Was there nothing she could do? Her thoughts 
 flew to Palmer. He had half promised to go 
 with the sailing-party, but had not turned up 
 at the appointed time, so they had gone with- 
 out him. The servants knew nothing of the 
 excursion and she did not mention it. Going 
 upstairs, she hastily put on a short bicycle 
 skirt, overshoes, a mackintosh, and a cap, and 
 gathering up her courage, she started out into 
 the storm. Her umbrella was useless on ac- 
 count of the wind, so she left it on the porch. 
 The gusts tied her skirts around her legs ; the 
 rain beat against her face and nearly blinded 
 her. No clothes were any protection. It 
 forced its way through the fastenings of her 
 mackintosh, down her neck, up her sleeves, 
 and she was soon wet to the skin. It was only 
 a quarter of a mile to the farmhouse where 
 Palmer lived, but it took her half an hour to 
 reach it. 
 
 As she came to the little green gate, 
 she thought of the peaceful picture the old 
 house had made that morning, when she had 
 driven by. It had been apparently asleep in 
 
Evelyn Breaks Faith 77 
 
 the sunshine, resting against a wooded hill, 
 with its contemporary elms standing sentinel 
 around it, and the fragrant garden of little box- 
 bordered beds between it and the road. The 
 gravel path from the gate to the columned 
 porch had stretched between two regal rows of 
 peonies, but now they were dethroned and 
 their royal heads of pink and crimson grovelled 
 in the mud. The rain had beaten out the 
 fragrance of the mignonette that grew between, 
 and it filled the air, mingled with the pungent 
 odour of wet earth. It was nearly dark, but 
 flashes of lightning lit up the scene and showed 
 her the mischief that had been done in half an 
 hour. 
 
 There was a light in Palmer's room in the 
 north wing, and she made her way there through 
 the rushing stream into which the path had been 
 converted, the water coming over the tops of 
 her overshoes at every step. She had to grope 
 her way up the steps leading to the little stoop 
 in the shadow of the elms. Before she could 
 knock at the glass door, Palmer himself opened 
 it. He was in his shirt-sleeves and his hair 
 was rumpled as if he had been running his 
 fingers through it. The table on which the 
 student-lamp was standing was covered with 
 papers. He had evidently been writing. 
 
 ' Well, what are you doing out in this jolly 
 
78 The Things that Count 
 
 old storm ? " he exclaimed in surprise when he 
 saw who his visitor was; and then, as he caught 
 a glimpse of her white face, he added hastily : 
 " What is the matter ? " 
 
 " Dolly and Cyril," Evelyn faltered, and 
 then stopped. An expression of consternation 
 crossed his face. 
 
 " By Jove! " he exclaimed; "I had forgotten 
 all about them. Did they go ? Have n't they 
 come home yet ?" She shook her head. She 
 could not speak. He took her by the arm to 
 lead her to the old sofa which stood in the 
 corner. 
 
 " I 'm too wet," she protested faintly. 
 
 :< It won't hurt horsehair. Sit down." He 
 brought a bottle from the closet, poured a little 
 of its contents into a glass, and gave it to her 
 to drink. 
 
 " It 's brandy," he said. " It will brace 
 you up and keep you from taking cold." She 
 swallowed it obediently. Two tears ran down 
 her cheek and mingled with the rain-drops. 
 After an ineffectual hunt for her handkerchief, 
 she brushed them off with the back of her hand. 
 Palmer handed her his. The water was drip- 
 ping off the edge of her cap. He took it off 
 and made her lean against the raised end of 
 the sofa. Then he got a towel from the wash- 
 stand and wiped the rain off her face and hair. 
 
Evelyn Breaks Faith 79 
 
 She shut her eyes and let him do what he 
 wanted. He went to the closet again and 
 brought out his shoes, which he proceeded to 
 put on, kicking off the slippers which he had 
 on. Next he slipped into his coat and mack- 
 intosh and coming over to Evelyn, who had 
 been lying watching him, he sat down beside 
 her. She had stretched out her hand towards 
 him. He took it in his two warm ones and 
 held it fast. 
 
 " It is so cold. Here, give me the other and 
 let me warm them both. I can feel the nerves 
 in the palms," he added. 
 
 You are quieting them," she answered. 
 Their eyes met, but neither smiled. Presently 
 he said, in his usual cheerful fashion, 
 
 ' There, they are warm now. I am going 
 down to the pier to see if I can find out any- 
 thing. Do you feel equal to going ? I don't 
 like to leave you here alone, and Mrs. Andrews 
 would talk you to death if I called her in." 
 
 " Oh, don't leave me! " she exclaimed, sit- 
 ting straight up. " I am perfectly equal to 
 it." He opened the door and, shaking the 
 water off her cap, gave it back to her. Then 
 he pulled a golf cap on his own head and put 
 out the lamp, saying that he never liked to. 
 leave one lighted alone in a room. His natural 
 voice and concern about every-day things were 
 
8o The Things that Count 
 
 very reassuring to Evelyn. He put his arm 
 through hers to help her down the unfamiliar 
 steps, for she was blinded by coming out of 
 the light into the darkness. 
 
 The wind had died down considerably, but 
 the rain was still coming down in torrents. 
 The thunder and lightning had ceased for the 
 time, except for an occasional ineffectual little 
 flash, like a firework that would n't go off. 
 Palmer stopped at the house to see if they had, 
 by any chance, returned, taking care not to 
 alarm the servants. Both he and Evelyn 
 dreaded their lack of self-control, the outward 
 expression of the terror and dismay which they 
 were both feeling inwardly. They took the 
 path through the pines to the beach. The 
 roaring of the breakers was so loud that they 
 could hardly hear each other speak. Evelyn 
 stumbled over a projecting root. He put his arm 
 around her and left it there. They hardly spoke. 
 
 Just as they reached the beach, a terrifying 
 flash of lightning lit up sea and shore for yards 
 around. Evelyn gave a little gasp and buried 
 her face on his shoulder. He put his arms 
 around her and held her close. 
 
 No boat could live in that sea," she whis- 
 pered sadly. She was so near that her wet 
 hair brushed his cheek and he could smell the 
 odour of it. 
 
Evelyn Breaks Faith 81 
 
 " I do not give up hope," he replied softly. 
 All the company tones were gone out of their 
 voices. " They may have seen the storm com- 
 ing and put in. They could n't have gone far 
 with so little wind." 
 
 " Then why are n't they here ? " she asked, 
 and he had no answer. She could feel his 
 heart beating fast and her own quickened in 
 response. It was a terrible, delicious moment. 
 Presently he loosened his arms and pushed her 
 from him almost roughly. 
 
 " I can't think or care what has become of 
 them so long as you are so near," he said sav- 
 agely. The heavens opened once more and let 
 out a world of glory. Evelyn started towards 
 him, but he would not let her come near. 
 
 ' You do it at your own risk," he said se- 
 verely. ' I can't stand any more of it. I 
 shall take advantage if you come so near me 
 again." 
 
 " But I am always so frightened in a thunder- 
 storm," she faltered. He had always shown 
 himself so calm, so completely master of him- 
 self, that his vehemence frightened her. 
 
 " What 's that ? " he exclaimed suddenly, 
 before he could answer her. ' I heard Miss 
 Van Horn's laugh." 
 
 " I did n't hear anything," she said. He 
 held up his hand. 
 
 6 
 
82 The Things that Count 
 
 "Listen!" he commanded. "There! I 
 heard it again. It was not fancy." 
 
 " So did I ! " exclaimed Evelyn joyously. 
 Another flash of lightning lit up the beach and 
 showed two dark figures coming towards them. 
 Palmer gave a peculiar whistle, which he often 
 used to call Cyril, and it was answered out of 
 the darkness that had settled down about them 
 again. 
 
 " Dolly! " called Evelyn excitedly, starting 
 to run down the beach. 
 
 " We 're all right," Dolly called back in her 
 every-day voice. 
 
 ' What do you mean by frightening us to 
 death ?" Palmer called out irritably as they 
 approached each other. They had been quite 
 near, but the roaring of the surf had made their 
 voices sound far away. 
 
 ' We could n't help it. It was not our 
 fault," Dolly explained, apologetically. ' We 
 saw the storm and landed at the lighthouse on 
 the point just in time to escape it, and then, 
 of course, we had to walk home, and it 's five 
 miles if it 's a step. Mrs. Perkins went to her 
 dinner, did n't she ? " 
 
 ' Yes, and she did n't know anything about 
 your going. But come on. You must be 
 wetter than we are, if that is possible." 
 
 Cyril made Palmer come in and get on some 
 
Evelyn Breaks Faith 83 
 
 dry clothes of his and stay to supper, to which 
 he had already been invited. There was a de- 
 licious sense of freedom in a meal without Mrs. 
 Perkins. Cyril dismissed the servants and they 
 waited on themselves. He and Dolly ate 
 heartily, but both Evelyn and Palmer had lost 
 their appetites. Evelyn had never looked 
 more beautiful. Her cheeks were flushed and 
 her eyes bright with excitement and her en- 
 counter with the storm. She was gay, reck- 
 lessly gay, and brilliant as she had seldom been 
 before. The sense of her power over the re- 
 luctant man opposite her exhilarated her. 
 Palmer was quiet and a little irritable at first, 
 but he could not long resist the infectious 
 gaiety of Evelyn's mood. Even Cyril was 
 talkative and jolly. He and Evelyn tacitly 
 agreed to ignore their difficulties for that 
 night. Dolly was her usual serene, literal, 
 sweet-natured self. 
 
 After supper, when they went into the 
 drawing-room, Cyril and Dolly sat down on 
 the hearth-rug to pop some corn at the fire of 
 logs, which the sudden chill of the evening 
 made desirable. 
 
 ' We always used to pop corn when we were 
 children and father and mother went out, and 
 it always seems festive and free to me," ex- 
 plained Dolly, who had resurrected the corn 
 
84 The Things that Count 
 
 and the popper from a closet. " But we 
 ought not to have any light but the fire. 
 Put the lamps out, won't you, Cyril?" she 
 added. 
 
 Palmer threw himself into a big chair, a 
 little in the shadow, and relapsed into silence. 
 Evelyn seated herself at the piano, and began 
 to play softly. 
 
 " Sing something, won't you, Miss Smith ? " 
 asked Cyril. 
 
 " Not coon songs," Palmer put in quickly. 
 
 " Don't you like them ? " asked Evelyn. 
 ' Well enough, but not to-night. Do you 
 never sing anything else but comic songs ? I 
 have never heard you." 
 
 " I sing other things for myself occasionally, 
 but not for people in general. They seem 
 to resent my singing anything that is n't amus- 
 ing. You see I have a reputation to live up 
 to." 
 
 ' Well, pretend that we are your other 
 selves," said Palmer. 
 
 " What shall it be then ?" 
 ' That little French song I heard you sing- 
 ing this morning," suggested Cyril. 
 
 Evelyn sang for nearly an hour as no one 
 there had ever heard her sing before. There 
 was passion, fervour, fire, in her voice. She was 
 singing for Palmer^ Cyril stretched himself 
 
Evelyn Breaks Faith 85 
 
 out on the hearth-rug and Dolly leaned back 
 against a pile of cushions that he had placed 
 for her, and both forgot their corn, Cyril be- 
 cause he was entranced by Evelyn's singing, 
 and Dolly because she had fallen asleep. Cyril 
 telegraphed the fact to Evelyn when she 
 stopped and turned on the piano-stool towards 
 the fire. Dolly's face was in the shadow and 
 the light of the fire shone full on her beautiful 
 hair. 
 
 " Poor girl," said Evelyn softly, " she is 
 tired out." Palmer rose to go. 
 
 ' ' Don't disturb her, ' ' he said. ' ' Cyril, what 
 did you do with my mackintosh ? I '11 return 
 these duds of yours to-morrow." 
 
 ;< I '11 send for them and send yours home. 
 I '11 get the mackintosh now." He left the 
 room, and Palmer stepped over to Evelyn and 
 stood before her as she sat on the piano- 
 stool. 
 
 ' Were you singing to me ? " he asked. 
 
 I was." Their eyes met and they gazed 
 intently at each other for a full minute with 
 mutual defiance. Then as Cyril was heard 
 approaching, his eyes softened. He seized her 
 hand and kissed it. 
 
 " Good-night, you beautiful vampire," he 
 said under his breath, as he left the room and 
 joined Cyril in the hall. 
 
86 The Things that Count 
 
 Dolly awakened as Cyril came back, very 
 much surprised at having been asleep. She 
 did not attempt to hide her disappointment 
 when she found that Palmer had gone in the 
 interim. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE VAN HORNS ARRIVE 
 
 THE events of the preceding evening natur- 
 ally made Evelyn feel guilty in regard to 
 Dolly, for her conscience did not exonerate 
 her for the part she had played. Undoubtedly 
 her fright was genuine; but, supposing it had 
 been Cyril with her instead of Palmer, would 
 she have found it necessary to seek refuge 
 from her fears in his arms ? She could 
 not honestly assert that this would have 
 been the case. Nobody could deny that she 
 had a right to sing love songs if she wanted 
 to ; but had it been fair, considering her know- 
 ledge of the state of Palmer's emotions that 
 evening ? She felt ashamed and, at the same 
 time, exultant. She rebuked herself for what 
 she had done, and yet recognised the fact that 
 she would do the same thing over again if the 
 opportunity came. It might be wrong; it was 
 undoubtedly wrong, but it was very sweet. 
 87 
 
88 The Things that Count 
 
 She met Palmer in the garden the next day, 
 and stopped him when he was about to pass her 
 with some conventional remark. Evidently 
 the glamour had gone from his sight overnight, 
 and Evelyn was not a woman to stand that. 
 She chose to ignore his parting remark to her 
 of the evening before. It was uttered so low 
 that it was not necessary for her to have heard 
 it. 
 
 I am afraid you will think that I am a per- 
 fect coward," she began, with a little air of shy- 
 ness which she did not in the least feel. It 
 was effective, and some of the sternness left his 
 face. " I am not, really and truly. Thunder- 
 storms are the only things that I am much 
 afraid of, and I can't seem to help that. You 
 see, I don't believe that I am quite responsible 
 for it, for I was born in a thunder-storm, per- 
 haps because of one." Palmer's face relaxed. 
 
 " I don't see how any one could blame you 
 for it. Of course you can't help it." 
 
 " I am not a coward about other things," she 
 repeated. 
 
 " I know that. I have seen that you were 
 not," he replied, looking as if he would like to 
 detain her as she moved away across the lawn. 
 
 Evelyn hardly attempted to scold herself for 
 this, she was getting so discouraged with dis- 
 ciplining that unruly member. It seemed to do 
 
The Van Horns Arrive 89 
 
 very little good. Her words had been nicely 
 calculated. She would not have said what she 
 had done to a more conventional man. She 
 knew that her saying it would seem perfectly 
 natural to him> and would yet give a mutual 
 sense of intimacy. 
 
 Dolly went for a bicycle ride with him that 
 afternoon. The rain had stopped, and the wind 
 had risen in the night, to die again that morning, 
 leaving the roads in fine condition for wheeling. 
 The storm had cooled the weather, which had 
 been uncomfortably hot before. Dolly stopped 
 in at Evelyn's room on her return. 
 
 ; ' I wanted to tell you that my uncle and 
 aunt have come," she explained. " We met 
 Uncle Twiller on horseback. He was on his 
 way over to see me, to invite me to come to 
 dinner to-morrow night, and he asked Mr. 
 Palmer to come with me and bring me home." 
 
 ' That will be nice," Evelyn replied, stifling 
 a pang of envy. She had always admired Mrs. 
 Van Horn from a distance, and had wanted 
 to know her. 
 
 " There is one thing I am afraid of," Dolly 
 continued. ' Uncle Twiller is a regular old 
 matchmaker, and I am sure he will take some 
 such idea in his head about Mr. Palmer and 
 me; and I can't undeceive him, because he 
 would think that I was just being coy and 
 
90 The Things that Count 
 
 maidenly if I protested. He does n't under- 
 stand girls as they are made nowadays. I am 
 sure I shall have to stand innumerable small 
 jokes." 
 
 " Not before the young man ? " 
 
 " Oh, dear, no! But on every other occa- 
 sion. You see, he is so fond of me that he is 
 blind to all my imperfections, and he thinks 
 every man must see me with his eyes. He is 
 an old dear, and the most perfect gentleman I 
 have ever known. I want you to know him, 
 Evelyn." 
 
 " I shall want to," she answered. " And 
 your aunt, Mrs. Van Horn, what is she 
 like?" 
 
 "Oh, Aunt Charlotte is dear, too, in her way, 
 but not so dear as Uncle Twiller. She has a 
 trifle too much of the great lady about her, and 
 I can't forgive her always for her exclusive- 
 ness, for her terrible politeness to unimportant 
 people whom she does n't happen to fancy. 
 She is devoted to Uncle Twiller and the child- 
 ren, and fond of me and Lucia, and of some 
 nieces of her own, but she does n't love her 
 fellow-creatures as he does. You know, she is 
 twenty-five years younger than he is. His first 
 wife, after whom I was named, died the year 
 after he married her, when their first child was 
 born. He was terribly in love with her, and it 
 
The Van Horns Arrive 9 1 
 
 took him years to get over it. He was quite 
 well along when he married Aunt Charlotte." 
 
 " How many children are there ?" Evelyn 
 asked. 
 
 " Two Charlotte and Larry. They did not 
 have any children until after they had been 
 married some time." 
 
 Dolly repeated her visit the next night, after 
 her return from her uncle's. She found Evelyn 
 sewing, as was usual at that time of night. 
 She was making herself a nightgown. 
 
 " Did you have a nice time ? " she asked, as 
 Dolly came in and seated herself on the bed. 
 
 "Fine. And O Evelyn! Uncle Twiller 
 took the greatest fancy to Mr. Palmer. He 
 told me in private afterwards that he quite ap- 
 proved, and I could n't convince him that he was 
 mistaken. I never saw Mr. Palmer appear better. 
 Aunt Charlotte did n't awe him a bit, as she 
 does lots of people. He was perfectly at his 
 ease, without being too much so. You know 
 that way of his. We played with the children 
 before dinner, and he was so dear with them, 
 and they were climbing all over him in five 
 minutes; and he told them a darling story 
 about himself when he was a little boy, and 
 that won Aunt Charlotte's heart. He must 
 have been such a dear little boy, and his love 
 for the children was so evidently genuine ; not 
 
92 The Things that Count 
 
 put on a bit. And we are all going to supper 
 there Sunday night, and he asked if the child- 
 ren might not sit up for it. And Aunt Char- 
 lotte is coming over to call to-morrow and ask 
 you and Mrs. Perkins and Cyril. Oh, dear! I 
 wish she did n't have to be asked, for I know 
 they won't like her." 
 
 It 's too bad. Is n't there any way out of 
 it ? " Evelyn asked. 
 
 " Imagine her state of mind if we all went 
 off to Uncle Twiller's, and she was n't asked ! " 
 ' The atmosphere would be electrical," said 
 Evelyn. 
 
 " Oh! and Evelyn: I heard such an inter- 
 esting thing about Mr. Palmer. I told Aunt 
 Charlotte, while he was smoking with Uncle 
 Twiller, about his having been Mr. Atwater's 
 secretary, and she knew all about him. It is 
 funny how she always knows things about 
 people, even people that she does n't care to 
 know. She said that the reason Mr. Palmer 
 left Mr. Atwater (he has always been reticent 
 about that, you know) was because Mabel At- 
 water fell in love with him. She is very young, 
 and has been an invalid and spoiled all her life, 
 and she always expects to get everything she 
 wants. Well, she set her heart on her father's 
 secretary, whom he treated almost like his son, 
 and she took it into her silly little head that he 
 
The Van Horns Arrive 93 
 
 was in love with her and was silent because of 
 her money. Well, she was very unhappy, and 
 her father discovered what was the matter, and 
 he thought that she was right ; for he idolises 
 her, and can't see how any one could help ador- 
 ing her, something like Uncle Twiller and me. 
 Well, she convinced him, and he sounded Mr. 
 Palmer. He (it must have been a pleasant inter- 
 view for him !) said that he had a strong liking 
 and friendship for Miss Atwater, but nothing 
 more, and utterly declined the honour of being 
 his employer's son-in-law. Well, of course, he 
 resigned after that, though Mr. Atwater did n't 
 want him to. Mr. Palmer understood all his 
 business, and he finds it hard to get along with- 
 out him." 
 
 ' What fools girls are! " exclaimed Evelyn, 
 wishing that Dolly would learn a lesson from 
 the tale she had told. 
 
 * Poor girl, I feel sorry for her! " said Dolly. 
 I told you about it as if I thought it was 
 funny, because Aunt Charlotte told it to me 
 that way ; but, really, I Ve been feeling un- 
 happy about her ever since I heard it." 
 
 Dolly's attitude towards Palmer irritated 
 Evelyn more than a little. It was characteris- 
 tic of the faith that Dolly's honesty inspired, 
 that Evelyn believed her when she said that 
 she was not in love with him. Besides, the 
 
94 The Things that Count 
 
 absence of strong feeling was believable in her 
 case. It was her making him of such tremend- 
 ous consequence that annoyed Evelyn. It was 
 the attitude of the girl who has never known 
 desirable men. She had evidently just dis- 
 covered the species, and was in the first enthus- 
 iasm of her discovery. He was of importance 
 to Evelyn, of great importance; but it annoyed 
 her to have Dolly calmly take it for granted 
 that this was so, especially in the absence of 
 any apparent interest in her on his part. Dolly 
 spoke his name as if she were saying " Shak- 
 spere, " and evidently cherished the honest 
 belief that, in spite of his poverty and lack of 
 social connection, he was of as much conse- 
 quence to every one of his acquaintances as to 
 her. Evelyn was always nervous when his 
 name came up in the presence of any of their 
 good neighbours at Chenook, this attitude of 
 Dolly's was so very evident, and betrayed so 
 much more than was true. She was always so 
 openly glad to introduce the subject, and dwelt 
 on it with such unconcealed pleasure. This 
 would not have been so bad if Palmer had re- 
 turned her interest. He liked her thoroughly, 
 made a companion of her in a way; but she 
 was evidently, to Evelyn if not to herself, one 
 of a hundred to him. Evelyn often thought 
 that she ought to undeceive her, but shrank 
 
The Van Horns Arrive 95 
 
 from doing it, because she was not sure how 
 much irritation and how much a true desire for 
 Dolly's welfare had to do with her conviction. 
 She wished heartily that there was some one else 
 to speak a word of caution to her, about her 
 lack of reticence, if nothing else. At all 
 events, if she was not in love with him, she 
 was in a state that came perilously near to it. It 
 would take very little to send her over the line. 
 Evelyn herself felt like a traitor, that Dolly 
 did not know the real explanation of Palmer's 
 apparent aversion to herself; and yet it seemed 
 best to her that she should not know. His 
 feeling would apparently have no conse- 
 quences. Palmer was a strong man, and he 
 was evidently fighting his attraction for her 
 with all the strength that was in him. Besides, 
 it was a mere caprice, born of her face. He 
 did not know her, her real self, at all. Here 
 the thought on the other side of the argument 
 presented itself; if he loved her while thinking 
 so ill of her, would he not care much more 
 when he found out that she was not quite what 
 he thought she was ? His attitude towards 
 her in one respect puzzled her. It did not 
 seem like him to accept Cyril's estimation of 
 her as final, to the exclusion of any observa- 
 tions of his own, especially now that Cyril had 
 evidently modified his opinion of her. 
 
96 The Things that Count 
 
 Evelyn said to herself repeatedly that she 
 did not wish that there should be any conse- 
 quences; but, still, the thought that there 
 would not be frightened her a little. Accord- 
 ingly, she shut her eyes with determination to 
 that side of the problem, and just let herself 
 drift. She said to herself frequently, as she 
 had always done, that she could not marry a 
 poor man, but she said it with an absence of 
 conviction. To her dismay, she did not feel her 
 old horror at the prospect. The possession of 
 material objects was not to her what it had been. 
 
 The next morning, a little before luncheon, 
 Dolly followed her out to the lily pond, so 
 brimful of something to tell her that she could 
 hardly wait until Evelyn finished the conversa- 
 tion she was having with the gardener. 
 
 " Oh, but I 've done a terrible thing! " she 
 said when the man had moved away out 
 of hearing. " Mrs. Perkins had a letter from 
 Mr. Billings yesterday, saying that he must 
 see her on important business, and I 've just 
 let her telegraph him to come up on Sunday. 
 I had told her that Aunt Charlotte was coming 
 to call, but luckily I had n't told her that she 
 was going to invite us all to supper. You see, 
 Mr. Billings won't get here till late Sunday 
 afternoon, and he '11 have to go away Monday 
 morning, so she won't be able to leave him." 
 
The Van Horns Arrive 9? 
 
 "That 's great!" said Evelyn. "Dolly, 
 I did n't know you were so deliciously deceit- 
 ful. You 're really quite human, after all." The 
 two girls seldom discussed Mrs. Perkins openly. 
 It was only in indirect ways like the present 
 that their feelings towards her cropped out. 
 
 " It is really a great deal worse for you to 
 feel as you do about her than for me, even if 
 I am her guest," Evelyn went on, a minute 
 later, seating herself on a rustic bench. " She 
 is very fond of you, and she doesn't like me. 
 You knew that, of course ? " 
 
 ' Then why does she urge you so to stay 
 every time you speak of going ?" demanded 
 Dolly, shirking the question. 
 
 " Because I make the house attractive by 
 my tricks, and because I know all the latest 
 fads about clothes and entertaining, and par- 
 ticularly because I bring young men to the 
 house. Oh, I earn my board." 
 
 " What is the reason she dislikes you ?" 
 Dolly asked, tacitly admitting the truth of 
 Evelyn's remark. 
 
 " What do you think ? " 
 
 I think she is jealous of you." 
 
 "So do I," returned Evelyn, calmly. 
 " Look there," she broke off, motioning across 
 the pond. Two figures were moving under 
 the trees on the farther side. They were Mrs. 
 
98 The Things that Count 
 
 Perkins and her son's tutor. " What do you 
 think of that ? " she asked. 
 
 " I don't like to think of it," Dolly an- 
 swered. " It makes me ashamed." 
 
 " I know how you feel about it," returned 
 Evelyn; " but, do you know, we are both un- 
 just. She is not forty-five, and looks young, 
 so why should we assume that everything 
 must necessarily be over for her ? I believe 
 that the late Elisha was anything but lovable." 
 
 11 Nevertheless, it is pathetic to me. I hate 
 to have you refer to it," said Dolly, looking 
 away. " I am so afraid that he will see it," 
 she added in a low voice. Evelyn laughed. 
 
 " Do you think that he does not ? " she de- 
 manded with a superior air. " Dolly, you are 
 an unsophisticated goose. He is laughing at 
 her all the time." 
 
 "That 's not true ! " Dolly declared energetic- 
 ally. " Richard Palmer is not that kind. He 
 is above that. I know that it must mortify him 
 even more than it does us than it does me, I 
 mean." 
 
 " I don't believe he does laugh," Evelyn 
 admitted; " but I am sure he knows it. How 
 could he help it ? " 
 
 " And I think that is the reason why she has 
 been additionally down on you lately," Dolly 
 continued, in a low voice. " It 's funny, Evelyn, 
 
The Van Horns Arrive 99 
 
 (or, rather, it is n't), that she does n't mind our 
 being so much better friends, Mr. Palmer and 
 I ; but she can't bear to have him so much 
 as speak to you. She is always saying that 
 there is something between you two, and I can 
 never convince her, except momentarily, that 
 she is mistaken : that you don't like each 
 other." 
 
 ' You mean that he does n't like me, ap- 
 prove of me, rather. He likes me well enough. 
 You know I both like and admire him tremend- 
 ously," said Evelyn, feeling more like a hypo- 
 crite than ever for deceiving Dolly with the 
 truth inadequately expressed. ' Does Cyril 
 notice anything ? " she asked. 
 
 " No, I am sure he does not. He would die 
 of mortification if he did. You don't know 
 how acutely sensitive that boy is, and how 
 ashamed he is of his mother sometimes." 
 
 ' Do you think he has any intentions ?" 
 asked Evelyn. 
 
 "Who? Cyril?" 
 
 " No, Mr. Palmer." 
 
 1 Evelyn Smith, how can you ! " Dolly ex- 
 claimed indignantly. 
 
 ' Then how far do you think her intentions 
 go ? " Evelyn returned calmly. 
 
 I don't know. I have seen her take 
 fancies before, one to a man who tried to 
 
ioo The Things that Count 
 
 marry her the first winter I was with her. He 
 was an impecunious fortune-hunter; not a bad 
 sort of a fellow, however. She liked his flat- 
 tery and his good looks and his little attentions ; 
 but when it came to the point she could n't 
 make up her mind to give up her independ- 
 ence. Besides, she was afraid that he would 
 spend too much of her money. She is terribly 
 shrewd in some ways, and I often think that 
 she would not marry again except to a- man 
 with as much money as she has, and such a 
 man would n't want to marry her. It is Mr. 
 Palmer's courteous indifference, such a change 
 from the eager responsiveness of most of the 
 men she has known, that makes it so much so 
 with her." 
 
 ' You surprise me sometimes," said Evelyn 
 slowly. " At times you don't see things at 
 all, and, again, you see everything." 
 
 " I know that I am terribly inexperienced," 
 Dolly replied humbly. " I always feel it, es- 
 pecially when I am talking with you. You 
 seem a hundred years old to me sometimes, 
 Evelyn, and there is such a ridiculous contrast 
 between your way of looking at things and 
 your looks." 
 
 " I wish, every hour, that I were not so 
 terribly disillusioned," Evelyn remarked sadly. 
 " A person who has been in my position, who 
 
The Van Horns Arrive 101 
 
 has led my life, has seen the seamy side of things 
 until she finds it hard to believe that there is 
 any other. Now, once upon a time, I should 
 have felt just as you do about Mrs. Perkins; 
 but I have seen so much of that sort of thing, 
 mature women making fools of themselves 
 over handsome young men that my sensibili- 
 ties have become blunted, as in many other 
 things, and it seems a little ridiculous to me as 
 well as mortifying." 
 
 ' It is wonderful how clever he is in eluding 
 her invitations," said Dolly. ;< I supposed it 
 was the cleverness of innocence." 
 
 " No, my dear of knowledge. Richard 
 Palmer is not unsophisticated. Those quiet 
 blue eyes of his (they are lovely eyes, are n't 
 they, Dolly ?) take in about all there is going. 
 He is thoroughly accustomed to women and 
 their ways that is easy to see. But," she 
 broke off suddenly, struck with a sudden 
 thought, " if Mrs. Perkins is jealous of me in 
 that particular direction, I don't see why she 
 insists on my staying on." 
 
 ' That is simple," said Dolly. " She thinks 
 that the mischief has been already done, and 
 that you are as likely to undo it as to increase 
 it; and she would find it hard to get along 
 without you here. I am no good as a bait, and 
 she must have something to attract the young 
 
102 The Things that Count 
 
 people here. She does not care to settle down 
 to middle-aged society." 
 
 " I see," said Evelyn. " Well, it is lunch 
 time. Shall we go in and watch la come die 
 humaine ? I '11 put my money on Mr. Palmer." 
 
 " Oh, don't ! " exclaimed Dolly with a gesture 
 of repugnance. 
 
 Mrs. Van Horn called that afternoon, and it 
 all turned out as Dolly had planned. The 
 invitation was given, but Mrs. Perkins had to 
 decline it for herself. The girls saw that she 
 took a sort of pleasure in doing this. She 
 would have liked, above all things, to ac- 
 cept an invitation from Mrs. Twiller Van 
 Horn; but, since that was impossible, it was 
 almost as satisfactory (there was a certain addi- 
 tional prestige about it) to refuse one, especially 
 as there would certainly be more to come. Mrs. 
 Van Horn was very gracious to everyone, and 
 expressed her regrets at Mrs. Perkins's refusal 
 as if she really meant them. She was particu- 
 larly cordial to Evelyn, rather to that young 
 person's surprise, and uttered a wish that she 
 would sing for them on Sunday evening. 
 They had heard of her singing, and her hus- 
 band, who was excessively fond of music, was 
 anxious to hear her. Nevertheless, in spite of 
 her kindness, she was so genuinely the great 
 lady that she awed both Mrs. Perkins and 
 
The Van Horns Arrive 103 
 
 Evelyn. She made Evelyn feel unrefined and 
 pushing; shoddy, as it were; and she was con- 
 scious of being less at her ease than usual. 
 
 It was a great honour; but it was a little of a 
 relief to all when the call was over, even to 
 Dolly, for she had felt a sense of responsibility 
 about the impression that her friends made 
 upon her aunt. She knew that Evelyn could 
 be trusted to strike the right note, and to keep 
 to it, adaptability to her company being often 
 laid at her door in the guise of a fault ; but she 
 shivered a little inwardly every time Mrs. Per- 
 kins opened, her mouth. Evelyn was even 
 more sensitive than Dolly on the subject, her 
 connection with her hostess being apparently 
 a matter of deliberate choice, while it was not 
 possible to hold any one accountable for the 
 deficiencies or transgressions of her employer. 
 She had strong impulses to interpose herself 
 between the two women and soften any pos- 
 sible shocks. She found herself saying in- 
 wardly to Mrs. Perkins: " Now, why did you 
 say that ? Don't you know, Mrs. Van Horn 
 will consider it in dreadfully bad taste ? I 
 would n't use that expression if I were you : 
 it is so plebeian." Nevertheless, Mrs. Perkins 
 made no bad breaks, and the important visit 
 passed off successfully. 
 
 Dolly had visions of Mrs. Perkins asking her 
 
104 The Things that Count 
 
 jokingly, without any real suspicion of her 
 manoeuvre, why she had not told her that 
 her aunt was going to ask them to supper Sun- 
 day night, so she disappeared after she had 
 escorted Mrs. Van Horn to her carriage, and 
 was not seen again. until dinner-time. 
 
 " What would you have said if she did ? " 
 Evelyn asked curiously, when Dolly had con- 
 fessed her fear to her. 
 
 " What could I have said ? " 
 
 Evelyn laughed. 
 
 " It 's simple enough. There are a dozen 
 things to say. I 'd have said, in a jocose tone, 
 as if I did n't mean it: ' Oh, I knew you were 
 longing for a tete-a-t$te with Mr. Billings,' or 
 I 'd have asked her, ' How should I know it ? ' 
 or something of that sort. Dolly, you have n't 
 any inventive faculty. You could never get on 
 in society. A facility in telling small lies is 
 very necessary." 
 
 " But I hate to have you do that sort of 
 thing, Evelyn," Dolly protested. 
 
 " Do you ? Why, I don't mind it at all. 
 It is a second nature to me to tell lies of that 
 kind." 
 
 " And do you tell them of other kinds ?" 
 Dolly demanded. 
 
 " Sometimes. Not very often, though. 
 Still, that is no credit to me, for it is only 
 
The Van Horns Arrive 105 
 
 because I am naturally truthful the truth 
 comes to my mind before the lie that I don't 
 tell more. To tell the truth this time, I can 
 never outgrow being ashamed of myself if I 
 tell a genuine lie." 
 
 ' Thank heaven for that ! " exclaimed Dolly. 
 Amen," returned Evelyn. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 ACCUSATIONS AND COUNTER-ACCUSATIONS 
 
 IT was a lovely walk through the woods to 
 the Van Horn place. Dolly and Evelyn 
 walked over together rather early. They found 
 Mrs. Van Horn sitting out on the lawn. 
 
 Are n't you going to have supper out of 
 doors, Aunt Charlotte ? It is so deliciously 
 warm," said Dolly, after they had done their 
 manners. 
 
 ' We talked of it, but your uncle has been 
 complaining of rheumatism in his left shoulder, 
 so I thought it would n't be safe." 
 
 " No, of course not," said Evelyn, while 
 Dolly asked : 
 
 " Where are Uncle Twiller and the kids ? " 
 4 They will be here in a minute. The child- 
 ren have gone with their father to see the 
 calf fed. There they come now." 
 
 The children rushed across the lawn, scream- 
 ing with delight when they saw Dolly, who 
 106 
 
Accusations 107 
 
 was a great favourite. Mr. Van Horn followed 
 more slowly. He greeted Evelyn with his 
 usual quiet cordiality, and she fell in love with 
 him on the spot. Dolly flung her arms around 
 him and gave him a hug, which he returned 
 with interest. 
 
 " You are such a darling! " she exclaimed 
 enthusiastically. 
 
 ;< Dolly, I insist that you do not spoil your 
 uncle so," protested her aunt, adding, with 
 the nearest approach she ever came to a joke: 
 " I can't do anything with him after you have 
 been with him." 
 
 " Aunt Charlotte," Dolly returned impress- 
 ively, " if Uncle Twiller could have been 
 spoiled, he 'd have been unendurable eighty 
 years ago." 
 
 " Eighty years ago! Well, I like that!" 
 exclaimed Mrs. Van Horn. " He won't be 
 sixty-five until his next birthday." 
 
 I knew that it was somewhere around 
 there," Dolly returned mischievously. Mr. 
 Van Horn was laughing the hearty laugh which 
 always served him for repartee. 
 
 ' You must n't tease your aunt," he said to 
 
 Dolly. " I see you know her sensitive point." 
 
 Did you think I did n't ? " she demanded. 
 
 " I should like to show Miss Smith my 
 flowers, if she would care to go with me," Mr. 
 
io8 The Things that Count 
 
 Van Horn continued, turning to Evelyn with 
 his sunny smile. Evelyn wanted to say that 
 she 'd like to go to the ends of the earth with 
 him ; but this seemed too effusive with so re- 
 cent an acquaintance, so she contented herself 
 with saying that she was a great lover of 
 flowers, which was strictly true. She not only 
 loved flowers, but knew a great deal about 
 them. She had a most delightful half-hour 
 with the dear old man in the old-fashioned 
 garden in which he took so much pleasure. 
 
 Do we have to go back ? " she asked re- 
 gretfully, when he started to rise from the 
 bench on which they had been sitting, oppos- 
 ite a bed of tall lilies. Mr. Van Horn smiled 
 with pleasure, although he was used to being 
 made much of by the girls who came to the 
 house. 
 
 " I am afraid that it is supper-time," he 
 said. They stood smiling at each other for a 
 second. Then Evelyn stretched out her hand. 
 
 " I like you so much," she exclaimed im- 
 pulsively. "Of course, I am not thinking of 
 doing it, but I feel as if I could tell you all my 
 secrets." 
 
 "Have you any ? " he asked, lowering his 
 voice with an air of mystery. 
 
 " Lots ! " she returned in the same tone. He 
 took her hand in both his. 
 
Accusations 109 
 
 " We will be friends," he said, relapsing into 
 his usual manner. " It is the privilege, the 
 great privilege, of my age." 
 
 " It was absolutely genuine," Evelyn said 
 to herself as they walked back in sympathetic 
 silence to join the others. :< It was entirely 
 spontaneous and unpremeditated. I forgot 
 utterly that he was Twiller Van Horn, and all 
 that that implies. Still, I suppose this beauti- 
 ful setting has something to do with his attract- 
 iveness," she added honestly. 
 
 They found Cyril and his tutor on the lawn 
 with Dolly, her aunt, and the children. The 
 children had taken possession of Palmer, and 
 he rose to speak to his host with them festooned 
 about him. Evelyn was gratified at Mr. Van 
 Horn's evident pleasure at greeting him, and 
 she admired the way he made Cyril welcome 
 and at home. 
 
 Evelyn sat by her host at supper. She felt 
 thoroughly contented, happier than she had 
 been for a long time, the atmosphere was so 
 congenial. There was an air of harmony, of 
 affection, of mutual sympathy in this house- 
 hold that she had rarely found. She envied 
 Dolly her freedom of it. She was much quieter 
 than usual, but her companions who knew her 
 well thought that they had never seen her 
 more attractive. Evelyn herself felt acutely 
 
no The Things that Count 
 
 conscious of an unusual power to charm with- 
 out doing anything, simply by the force of her 
 own personality. She lay back, and let it do 
 the work for her. The children had their sup- 
 per at a side table, where their. nurse waited on 
 them. Charlotte, who was an outrageous 
 coquette for any age, kept exchanging signif- 
 icant glances with Palmer. She finally de- 
 manded that he should come over and eat his 
 dessert with her and Larry. It was an interest- 
 ing experience for Evelyn to see him with the 
 children. She was not so very fond of them 
 herself, except in the abstract, but she pre- 
 ferred that other people should be. She loved 
 the idea of children ; but, in reality, their noise, 
 their countless small exactions, their continual 
 demands on one's time and attention, wearied 
 her. Then, in the houses that she had visited, 
 she had been so often at the mercy of spoiled 
 children, whose parents she could not afford to 
 offend, that she exaggerated the discomfort 
 that they caused. Charlotte and Larry were 
 not allowed to be troublesome, though they 
 were such obstreperous children that the firmest 
 of hands was necessary to keep them from being 
 so. Mrs. Van Horn complained that her hus- 
 band spoiled them, and that she had to be 
 doubly strict in consequence. 
 
 " Don't I always make them mind, Char- 
 
Accusations 1 1 1 
 
 lotte ? " he demanded, when his wife brought 
 forward this charge after the children had 
 gone to bed. 
 
 "Yes, but, Twiller, you, you love them 
 so I suppose that is really the trouble," she 
 broke off. ' They are of such immense conse- 
 quence to him, and they realise it, and put 
 themselves forward. They are of great conse- 
 quence to me, too," she added to Dolly, " but 
 I hide it better." 
 
 " When Uncle Twiller loves, or even likes 
 people, he does it twice as hard as other people. 
 It shines out of his eyes and in his smile and 
 the benevolent look on his face, and all over," 
 said Dolly. 
 
 " And how about the people whom Mr. Van 
 Horn does n't like ? " Evelyn asked, smiling 
 at her host, who smiled back at her. 
 
 . " There are n't very many, but I can tell it 
 in a minute. He is so terribly polite to them." 
 
 " Am I not always polite ? I hoped that I 
 was," said her uncle, plaintively. 
 
 You are, but not too polite. You are too 
 polite when you don't like people." 
 
 After supper, Mrs. Van Horn asked Evelyn 
 to sing. Mr. Van Horn demanded coon songs, 
 so she went to the piano with a deprecatory 
 smile at Palmer, which he did not return. He 
 had taken no notice of her at all that evening. 
 
1 1 2 The Things that Count 
 
 Mr. Van Horn was delighted with her singing. 
 He seemed to have kept his faculties of enjoy- 
 ment wonderfully for a man of his age. He 
 demanded more, and made her repeat songs 
 that he liked until his wife protested : 
 
 " My dear, you will tire Miss Smith out." 
 
 " Miss Smith and I have sworn eternal 
 friendship, and she would tell me if she were 
 tired, would n't you, Miss Smith ? " 
 
 " I don't think that I could get tired," she 
 replied, so evidently meaning " singing to 
 you " that they all laughed. 
 
 " It 's the most barefaced thing I ever saw," 
 Dolly said aloud ; then added, in an aside to 
 Palmer: " Did you ever see Evelyn look so 
 beautiful? " 
 
 " Never," he replied, coldly. 
 
 Cyril had seemed a little out of it at supper, 
 and now Mr. Van Horn tried to make him 
 talk. He was not successful until Palmer came 
 to the rescue. He himself began to talk to Mr. 
 Van Horn, first about the lighting of country 
 houses, a subject which came up naturally, 
 then about electricity and electrical inventions. 
 Presently he referred to Cyril some point that 
 Mr. Van Horn raised, and in a few minutes it 
 was Cyril who was doing the talking. Mr. 
 Van Horn was a widely intelligent man, well 
 informed on many subjects, and his interest in 
 
Accusations 113 
 
 what Cyril had to say was genuine. The boy's 
 eyes brightened, his heavy features became 
 animated, he appeared like a different person. 
 
 " I should not wonder if he were a really 
 handsome man when he is middle-aged," 
 Evelyn said to Dolly in a low voice. 
 
 When it came time to go home, Mr. Van 
 Horn detained Evelyn for a minute, and, as 
 Dolly and Cyril had already started on, there 
 was nothing for Palmer to do but to wait for 
 her. 
 
 ' ' What a dear old man he is ! " she said, when 
 they were some distance from the house and 
 the silence that continued between them was 
 getting embarrassing. 
 
 " He certainly is," Palmer replied coldly. 
 ' He has such a lovable nature that you feel 
 it in everything he says or does. A really 
 nice old man, or old woman either, is such an 
 unusual phenomenon. It makes me want to 
 study the art of growing old gracefully." 
 Palmer did not reply, very rudely, as Evelyn 
 thought. This made her angry, and she con- 
 tinued with unnatural calmness: " I suppose 
 you thought I was trying to make myself 
 agreeable from interested motives." 
 
 ' Were you not ? " he asked with cool im- 
 pertinence. 
 
 "Undoubtedly!" she replied, bitterly. 
 
IH The Things that Count 
 
 " Of course a parasite like me (I suppose that 
 is what you call me ?) has no natural impulses 
 left. It is all policy with me." 
 
 " I would give worlds to know beyond a 
 doubt that it was not true," he returned, with 
 suppressed feeling. 
 
 Mr. Palmer," Evelyn began with forced 
 calmness, " do you think that you are fair to 
 me ? I do not understand your attitude to- 
 wards me in the least. It seems so unlike you 
 as I see you to be in other things. I should 
 otherwise believe that you were a thoroughly 
 just man, unprejudiced, fair even to those you 
 dislike ; that you never formed your opinions 
 on hearsay evidence, and were too proud not 
 to acknowledge a mistake. This is the opinion 
 of you that I am forced to hold in spite of 
 your treatment of me." 
 
 ' What do you mean by the hearsay evid- 
 ence that you say I have condemned you 
 on ? " he asked. 
 
 ' You know perfectly well, what Cyril said 
 to you about me that night." 
 
 ' ' You are mistaken about that, ' ' he returned, 
 calmly. ;< I admit that it may have added 
 colour to my beliefs, but it had nothing to do 
 with my forming them. That was a mere 
 boyish prejudice on his part, even if it were, 
 to some extent, founded on truth. He has 
 
Accusations 1 1 5 
 
 quite got over it now, and is ready to lie down 
 at your feet if you will only pat your knee. I 
 formed my opinion of you before I ever set eyes 
 on your face, your beautiful face," he added 
 as unconcernedly as if he were speaking of the 
 landscape. " I did not know that you were to 
 be here, but I knew you on hearsay evidence, 
 I admit, but the circumstantial proof was 
 strong." 
 
 ' You are surely going to explain what you 
 mean ? " she asked, as he stopped and did not 
 continue. 
 
 1 What is the use ? It would only be pain- 
 ful to both of us. Let us end this scene and 
 catch up with the others." Evelyn stopped 
 short. 
 
 ' That is the unfairest thing yet ! " she ex- 
 claimed indignantly. ;< I insist on your ex- 
 plaining what you mean. It is only just to 
 me." 
 
 ' Very well. You do not know that I am 
 Arthur Hunt's most intimate friend, and that 
 I lived at his house at the time of that little 
 episode with you. You can know, if it gives 
 you any satisfaction, that you spoiled his life 
 for the time being as completely as a woman 
 could do it." 
 
 ' He seems to have consoled himself," 
 Evelyn remarked insolently. 
 
n6 The Things that Count 
 
 ' Yes, thank heaven ! You see, you did the 
 thing up so thoroughly that his getting over it 
 was merely a question of time. It was con- 
 siderate of you not to stop short of where you 
 did. He told me that he sat next to you at a 
 dinner somewhere last winter, that he was per- 
 fectly conscious of your beauty and your 
 charm, but that you never gave him a sensa- 
 tion." 
 
 " I could have if I 'd wanted to. Indeed, I 
 had a sensation for him in my pocket that cir- 
 cumstances made me decide not to give him. 
 But, Mr. Palmer, has it never occurred to you 
 that there may be another side to that story, 
 as to most others ? " 
 
 I don't see how anything could alter the 
 facts of the case." 
 
 And you a lawyer ? I should not put a 
 case in your hands." 
 
 ;< It is all very well for you to laugh," he 
 broke out savagely. " I suppose it is a laugh- 
 ing matter to you to do what you did; but I 
 assure you it was no such thing to him, and it 
 is not to me. When we last talked about you, 
 after that dinner (we had not mentioned you 
 before for nearly two years), he said to me : ' It 
 is all dead now, but I am a much poorer man 
 for that experience. It hurt me in a way that 
 I shall never get over. I made up my mind 
 
Accusations 117 
 
 that I would not let it hurt my faith in women ; 
 but I find that I have n't been able to help its 
 doing so. I have lost my illusions. Life will 
 never be to me what it was before.' ' 
 
 A pause followed these words. They walked 
 on in silence for a while. It was a beautiful 
 warm summer's night. Not a breeze was stir- 
 ring, and the moon, which was just entering its 
 second quarter, threw tree shadows on the road 
 in front of them. The woods crept close 
 around, and the air was filled with all sorts of 
 spicy, woodsy odours. The moaning of a 
 dove or the hooting of an owl was heard 
 occasionally, and the crackling of a twig now 
 and then showed that the world around them 
 was not so uninhabited as it seemed. 
 
 Evelyn was feeling very unhappy at her first 
 realisation of the far-reaching consequences of 
 an episode which she had heretofore thought 
 of chiefly as it concerned herself. It was a 
 very different thing to think vaguely of a man's 
 unhappiness because of her, and to have it 
 brought home to her in that definite way. It 
 seemed a terrible thing to have taken the 
 glamour from life for a fellow-being. Her 
 regret and the influence of the sweet, harmon- 
 ious night around her were softening her mood 
 when her companion turned on her suddenly 
 with these words, full of the deepest feeling: 
 
n8 The Things that Count 
 
 " What did you do it for ? Tell me. Was 
 it vanity ? Is it a necessity of your nature to 
 have the admiration of every man who comes 
 near you ? Or was it because you thought 
 that you might have some use for him until a 
 richer man came in sight ? Hunt was too 
 good a fellow to make a plaything of. Good 
 God, I believe it hurts me more than it did 
 him! I would give anything in heaven or 
 earth if you had n't done this thing. Why 
 don't you say something ? " he went on pas- 
 sionately, as she did not answer. ' Here, tell 
 me the truth. I will try to believe you, what- 
 ever you say. Did you deliberately encourage 
 Arthur Hunt, let him believe that you cared 
 for him, and then throw him over in that cold- 
 blooded fashion ? " 
 
 That " I will try to believe " had spoiled 
 everything. Evelyn's pride was up in arms. 
 She would not defend herself. 
 
 " I did exactly that," she replied calmly. 
 
 " And were n't you sorry for what you made 
 him suffer ? " 
 
 " I was rather absorbed in my own sensations 
 about that time," she answered indifferently. 
 They walked in silence up the driveway to Mrs. 
 Perkins's house, with no thought of the beauty of 
 the night, which seemed made for other things 
 than quarrellings and misunderstandings. 
 
Accusations 119 
 
 ' There, they are waiting for us. We have 
 only a minute. Tell me quickly. Have you 
 really no excuse or explanation ? I can hardly 
 believe it." 
 
 " I have none to give you," Evelyn an- 
 swered coldly. ' Well, Dolly, what did you 
 run away from us for ? " 
 
 " You must have just crawled," said Dolly. 
 ' I thought that we had better all appear to- 
 gether," she added in an aside to Evelyn. 
 
 I am not coming in. Good-night," said 
 Palmer, turning around and walking off. 
 
 ' Well, that was abrupt. What have you 
 and he been doing, Miss Smith ? " Cyril asked. 
 Quarrelling, principally. Mr. Palmer under- 
 took to lecture me about some of the sins of 
 my youth which have found me out, and as I 
 resented it, naturally, our walk was n't pleas- 
 ant. Well, I think I '11 follow his example. I 
 will go to bed and sleep it off; for I have a 
 constitutional dislike of disagreeable things, 
 which has kept me from doing my duty a great 
 many times, I regret to say." 
 
 Evelyn was one of those fortunate people 
 who find it impossible to remain angry for 
 long at a time. Consequently, she awoke the 
 next morning to find that her indignation had 
 evaporated, and had left a regret in its place 
 that she had not told Palmer the true story of 
 
120 The Things that Count 
 
 her relations with Arthur Hunt. Undoubtedly 
 she had been very much to blame, but not so 
 much so as he believed her to be. Neverthe- 
 less, her pride would not let her make any ad- 
 vances, and they lived in a state of armed 
 neutrality towards one another for some time 
 afterwards. They saw each other only in com- 
 pany, for the neighbourhood had become very 
 gay, and although they each took star parts 
 wherever they happened to be, they never 
 played together. Evelyn went out a great 
 deal with Mrs. Perkins, but Palmer appeared 
 only when it was impossible to manufacture a 
 plausible excuse for staying away. Attractive 
 young men were so few at Chenook that his 
 being Cyril's tutor was not even thought of. 
 
 One day she was seated with Mrs. Perkins 
 on the veranda, discussing an invitation that 
 had just arrived, when Palmer came out of the 
 house on his way home. Evelyn had suspected 
 Mrs. Perkins's intention of waylaying him, and 
 had meant to take herself discreetly out of the 
 way, but her hostess had detained her until 
 too late. 
 
 " I have an invitation for you to the Lorri- 
 mers' picnic tea, Mr. Palmer," that lady began. 
 
 " It is very good of them to ask me," he re- 
 turned. 
 
 1 You are going, of course ? " 
 
Accusations 121 
 
 "No, I believe not." 
 
 1 You are making a regular hermit of your- 
 self." 
 
 ' Well, you see, I have work to do. Be- 
 sides, I went through all this sort of thing 
 when I was younger, and I had enough to last 
 me for life." 
 
 Evelyn thought that she had now stayed long 
 enough not to make her retiring seem pointed, 
 so she got up and walked slowly down the steps 
 and off in the direction of the lily pond. She 
 went slowly, in order not to seem in a hurry 
 to get away, so slowly that she heard dis- 
 tinctly what followed : 
 
 ' You never go with us anywhere. Won't 
 you go if I ask you to ? " 
 
 " I am afraid that I can't, Mrs. Perkins. I 
 hate to seem disobliging, but if you knew how 
 I hate all that sort of thing." 
 
 ' You are very unkind." This was said in 
 a tone that Evelyn had never heard her use 
 before, and it made her feel both ashamed for 
 her and angry at Palmer. She did not hear his 
 answer to this, but Mrs. Perkins's voice rose 
 clearly and distinctly in these words: 
 
 " You never do a thing I want you to. I 
 fairly fling civilities at your head, and you 
 treat me like so much mud." Evelyn hurried 
 on and heard no more. She took the direction 
 
122 The Things that Count 
 
 in which Palmer would come on his way to the 
 Andrews's, and waited for him beside a clump 
 of rhododendrons. Presently she saw him com- 
 ing down the path, a stern, troubled expression 
 on his face. She stepped out and stood wait- 
 ing for him. He frowned when he saw her, 
 but there was nothing for him to do but to 
 come on. 
 
 " Good afternoon, Miss Smith," he said with 
 elaborate politeness, as if he had not seen her 
 before, lifting his cap clear off his head. 
 
 " Good afternoon, Mr. Palmer; may I have 
 the honour of a few minutes' conversation with 
 you ? " 
 
 ' With the greatest pleasure." 
 
 I will sit down, if you don't mind," she 
 said, dropping her formal tone and sitting down 
 on a little bank beside the road. He stationed 
 himself in front of her. 
 
 " Mr. Palmer," she began: " I wonder if 
 you have realised the size of the beam in your 
 own eye ? " 
 
 " I don't understand you," he replied coldly. 
 
 " Do you think it is fair to condemn me for 
 things that you do yourself ? " 
 
 ' Will you condescend to some details, 
 please ? " 
 
 " Certainly. It was solely out of considera- 
 tion for your feelings that I spoke so generally. 
 
Accusations 123 
 
 Do you think it is right, to speak perfectly 
 openly, to gratify your vanity at Mrs. Perkins's 
 expense ? " 
 
 " It is not my fault, as you know perfectly 
 well," he answered doggedly, colouring a little 
 at her words, but not pretending to misunder- 
 stand her. ' I can't help it, if the woman 's a 
 fool. I have n't done anything." 
 
 " And I suppose you did n't do anything in 
 the case of Miss Atwater " 
 
 "Who told you about that?" he inter- 
 rupted angrily. Evelyn had never seen him 
 in such a thoroughly bad temper. He made 
 very little attempt to control himself. 
 
 " Or of Dolly," she continued, without 
 noticing his interruption. 
 
 ' That is not true. Miss Van Horn has 
 nothing but friendship for me," he protested 
 fiercely. 
 
 It is only because she has so much com- 
 mon sense. It is not your fault that she is not 
 worshipping at your shrine with your other 
 adorers." Evelyn was enjoying herself com- 
 pletely by this time. She felt a savage satis- 
 faction in being as disagreeable as she knew 
 how to be. It gave her positive pleasure to 
 hurt him as he had hurt her. He had made 
 her very unhappy these last few weeks, and he 
 should pay for it. She knew that she would 
 
124 The Things that Count 
 
 be heartily repentant for her unfairness, her 
 perversion of the truth, but she did not care. 
 She felt reckless. ' You must have known 
 how inexperienced she is anybody could se 
 it," she continued. " She has never known a 
 man intimately in her life. You knew this, 
 and you knew how easy it is for a woman to 
 care for a man who gives her the first taste of 
 the things she has always longed for; you 
 knew this, and yet you have sought her so- 
 ciety, made an intimate friend of her, regard- 
 less of consequences. The thing that has saved 
 her is that she is neither sentimental nor sus- 
 ceptible; and, even as it is, it would take only 
 one move forward on your part to spoil her 
 life; not for a moment, as you say I spoiled 
 Arthur Hunt's, but for all time. No, I am 
 not jealous. If you were of a hundred times 
 as much consequence to me, I could n't be 
 jealous of Dolly Van Horn. I did not mean 
 to speak so contemptuously," she broke off 
 abruptly. " She is a good friend of mine, and 
 worth a dozen of me but, oh! so powerless." 
 
 " If she had power, she would use it well," 
 Palmer remarked calmly. His anger seemed 
 to have evaporated suddenly. 
 
 " If she had power, she would not be the 
 same person; so you cannot tell," returned 
 Evelyn. 
 
Accusations 125 
 
 " I know that you are mistaken about her," 
 he continued. " She is not within a thousand 
 miles of caring for me in that way." 
 Perhaps not," said Evelyn. 
 
 " And I shall see that she does not get there 
 through any fault of mine," he added. He 
 seated himself on the bank beside Evelyn. 
 Their mutual defiance had, for some incompre- 
 hensible reason, faded away. Evidently, he 
 was prepared for a friendly discussion of the 
 subject. 
 
 " It makes me feel like a fool to be con- 
 sciously prudent in such matters," he began. 
 " I should feel ashamed of my vanity if I de- 
 liberately kept out of a woman's way, or con- 
 cealed my liking for her, for fear she should 
 mistake it for something stronger, and come to 
 care more for me than I did for her. Still, I 
 have had one or two awkward experiences. 
 You referred to one yourself, though I can't 
 imagine how you knew about it. Goodness 
 knows, I have never mentioned it to a soul. 
 Well, these have made me careful. I tell you 
 quite frankly that I have thought of this pos- 
 sibility in the case of of your friend " (he 
 lowered his voice, and there was a little embar- 
 rassment in his face as he said this); " not 
 because I consider myself irresistible, to save 
 you the trouble of saying it, but because I 
 
i26 The Things that Count 
 
 know how unused to men she is. She takes 
 the little every-day civilities at so much more 
 than their cash value that I have had to be 
 careful that she did not deceive herself. I give 
 you my word of honour that I have never made 
 an advance to her, much as I like and respect 
 her. I have never invited her so much as to 
 take a walk with me. Everything that we 
 have done together has been arranged without 
 any action on my part. You may not believe 
 me (if you knew the inside history, you would), 
 but I have kept out of the way of intimacy 
 with her, rather than courted it. I never talk 
 to her about myself, about my feelings or de- 
 sires. I have never talked on sentimental sub- 
 jects with her, never once. We always keep 
 to material things and abstract or impersonal 
 topics. We have discussed Greek plays by the 
 hour, for instance, and things like that." 
 
 ' What a stupid time you must have had! " 
 exclaimed Evelyn contemptuously. " And to 
 think that I have always envied you your good 
 times! Dolly is even more unsophisticated 
 than I supposed." 
 
 " And I have always believed I do still be- 
 lieve that she has a sincere friendship for me, 
 and nothing more. I have never seen a symp- 
 tom of anything warmer, and I assure you that 
 I should have noticed them if there had been 
 
Accusations 127 
 
 any. / am not unsophisticated. You know 
 that she does n't care, don't you ? " 
 
 " She says she does n't," Evelyn began; 
 then ended honestly: "and I believe her. I 
 know that she is not in love with you ; but I 
 think that you could make her so in about five 
 minutes, so I advise you to continue to be 
 careful." 
 
 " Hang it! " he exclaimed vehemently, " 1 
 wish to heaven I had never come to this ac- 
 cursed place! If I could decently get away 
 to-morrow, I 'd do it." 
 
 " I don't see how you can stay comfortably, 
 if the end of your scene with Mrs. Perkins was 
 anything like the part I heard." Palmer 
 changed his position and moved a little nearer. 
 Both had a delightful sense of intimacy, a 
 sense that it was possible to say anything to 
 each other, and to say it with no danger of a 
 misunderstanding or of any disapproval for un- 
 reserve. 
 
 " We patched it up at the end," he said. 
 " She made some explanation of her vehem- 
 ence, a toothache that had been keeping her 
 awake, and it passed as sufficient. " 
 
 " She has really had a toothache for several 
 days, and there is no dentist nearer than 
 Haverly. She will have to go there if it keeps 
 on." 
 
128 The Things that Count 
 
 " I wish I could get away," he continued. 
 " My position here is intolerable; but I can't 
 reconcile it to my conscience to leave Cyril in 
 the lurch, now that he has really made up his 
 mind to go to college. I agreed to put him 
 through, and I have got to do it, whether I like 
 it or not. It makes me so ashamed," he broke 
 off, the colour coming into his face. 
 
 It does n't tempt you ? " 
 ' Tempt me! Good heavens, no! " he ex- 
 claimed indignantly, his eyes blazing blue fire 
 at her. 
 
 " It would n't be such an unheard-of thing," 
 she continued, perfectly undaunted. 
 
 " Not in my philosophy," he went on more 
 calmly. " Great Scott! if I married for any 
 reason but the one, that I loved a woman and 
 desired to make her my very own, I 'd hate 
 her in a week, and strangle her in her sleep be- 
 fore a month was up. I suppose this is one 
 reason that makes me so hard on you, Evelyn." 
 He called her by her name as naturally as if 
 he had always used it. "I have a personal 
 repulsion to being the object of a feeling that 
 I do not share, and for that reason I under- 
 estimate your temptations." 
 
 I only want people to like me up to a cer- 
 tain point," she answered. " It makes me 
 uneasy if they do not, and I try to make them ; 
 
Accusations 1 29 
 
 but I don't want them to care too much. I 
 don't know what to do with it." 
 
 " I can't reconcile that to what you yourself 
 admitted about Hunt," he objected. 
 
 ' Think about it, and see if some explana- 
 tion of that affair does not suggest itself to 
 you." She rose to her feet. He caught her 
 by her dress and held her. 
 
 " Don't go! " he pleaded. " Tell me what 
 you mean." 
 
 " I don't intend to. Let me go, please. I 
 hear somebody whistling. It is Cyril, and I 
 think he is coming this way." 
 
 " Well, what if he is ?" 
 
 " I don't wish it to seem as if we had been 
 playing a part." 
 
 " Are we not, then ? " 
 
 " Yes; but I don't care to have them know 
 it. Good-by. " 
 
 This interview pleased Evelyn greatly. She 
 had felt beforehand that it would be a test of 
 her power over Palmer. He would talk freely 
 to her about his relations to other women only 
 if he had a distinct consciousness of her near- 
 ness to himself, such as only a strong senti- 
 mental feeling gives. He was not a man to 
 discuss subjects of that nature with people in 
 general, or, indeed, with people in particular. 
 The whole affair with Mrs. Perkins was 
 
130 The Things that Count 
 
 evidently especially distasteful, and she felt 
 that he would have shrunk from all allusion to 
 it from anyone else, even if the tradition of 
 honour had not kept him from discussing it. 
 She called this sentiment ' the tradition 
 of honour," because she had come to look 
 upon the relations of men and women in 
 what she considered a rational way. She 
 could not make herself feel that there was 
 anything so sacred as to make it unmentionable 
 in the fancy, or even the love, of a woman for 
 a man. It would be considered legitimate for 
 a woman to discuss, seriously and with respect, 
 the love of a man for herself with a friend 
 whom she trusted, supposing that she was be- 
 traying no confidence, that the fact was known 
 already to her companion ; why, then, should 
 it not be equally so for a man who was absol- 
 utely free from complacency or pride in the 
 achievement ? She disliked the appearance of 
 bestowing the undue importance on an unre- 
 turned love that was given by the relegating of 
 the subject to the unspeakable. To be able to 
 speak about such things simply and naturally, 
 as a usual thing that might befall any woman, 
 was surely a more respectful way of treating 
 them than to pass them over with blushing 
 cheeks, averted head, and abrupt change of 
 subject, as of something too mortifying to be 
 
Accusations 131 
 
 spoken of at all. So Evelyn felt that she pre- 
 ferred a man should treat such a feeling of 
 hers, if such a one had existed, provided always 
 that he betrayed no confidence and showed no 
 elation. And now, in this case, it deepened 
 her sense of Palmer's distance from priding 
 himself on his conquests, that there was no 
 awe, no solemnity in his manner of dealing 
 with them. It evidently was not of tremend- 
 ous importance to him that these women 
 should fancy his blue eyes and loyal, straight- 
 forward nature. Women loved men who did 
 not return their love every day ; this was only 
 one of a million cases. It had happened to 
 happen to him rather than another fellow, con- 
 sequently it was necessary for him to pay some 
 attention to it. That was all. 
 
 Evelyn felt that he would treat in much the 
 same way the direct confession or betrayal of a 
 woman's love for himself. He would talk it 
 over with her simply and sympathetically, as a 
 great thing to her because she felt it to be so, 
 but of consequence to him only because of her 
 suffering, and because there might be some 
 slight sense of unfairness on his own side. He 
 would never act as if he thought there was 
 anything to be ashamed of either in the feel- 
 ing or in the betrayal of it. He would leave 
 her her undiminished self-respect, with the 
 
132 The Things that Count 
 
 consciousness that she had not lowered herself 
 in his eyes. He would treat it as an accident 
 that it had been she that had cared, and not he 
 or both of them, an accident that might have 
 befallen any man or any woman, not a dis- 
 grace. When he left her, he would not leave 
 a woman scorned, but a woman who would 
 honour him and believe in him, who would feel 
 a loyal friendship for him all her life, long after 
 the glory had gone from him, and settled, per- 
 haps, on another's head. The thought of him 
 would never afterwards be one to jump away 
 from with inarticulate ejaculations of pain ; it 
 would always be a pleasant companion for a 
 sentimental hour. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 AN IDYT 
 
 MRS. PERKINS passed a painful night 
 with her tooth. Dolly was up with her 
 a large part of it, lavishing her sympathy and 
 her kindly, if unavailing, suggestions in her 
 usual generous fashion. One had only to be 
 in trouble to have all his sins of omission and 
 commission forgotten by her big, kind heart. 
 In the morning she persuaded Mrs. Perkins to 
 go over to Haverly to the dentist there, and 
 got ready herself to go with her. It was a 
 twenty-mile drive, but they expected to get 
 back that evening. In the middle of the after- 
 noon, however, Evelyn received a telegram 
 from Dolly saying that they would have to 
 stay over Sunday, as the dentist wanted to 
 treat the tooth before he did anything to it. 
 
 She had a pleasant tete-a-tete dinner with 
 Cyril, and a musical evening afterwards. She 
 had had no idea that he was so possible as a 
 133 
 
134 The Things that Count 
 
 companion. Every trace of his old enmity 
 had gone, and she saw that it was as Palmer had 
 said : he was all ready to worship at her shrine 
 at the slightest encouragement. She honestly 
 tried her best to be matter-of-fact and imper- 
 sonal, to be as little attractive as she could be, 
 being aware that any such development would 
 bring down Palmer's wrath upon her head. The 
 music was a fortunate resource. When they 
 said good-night, he made a half-apology for 
 his former attitude to her, but she passed it 
 over lightly. She would not have a scene. 
 
 The next morning, which was Sunday, 
 Evelyn was down much earlier than usual 
 under the influence of a hope that she could 
 not stifle. It was a heavenly day, soft and 
 warm, with a delicious little breeze stealing in 
 from the bay. She went down to the lily 
 pond, knowing that any one would, sooner or 
 later, be sure to look for her there, and lay 
 down on the grass under a birch tree with her 
 arms under her head for a pillow. The ground 
 sloped away so that she could look at the lilies 
 resting on their bronze pads on the surface of 
 the water. It was a new development for her 
 to be contented to do nothing. Her own 
 society, with no occupation for her hands, was 
 something she usually avoided. It was only 
 external quiet this morning, however. She 
 
An Idyl 135 
 
 could not keep her eyes away from the path 
 that led to the Andrews's farm, and alterna- 
 tions of hope and fear kept her heart fluttering 
 and sent cold shivers up and down her back in 
 a way that frightened her. It was so long 
 since anything had agitated her. She had 
 time to get very anxious before a voice behind 
 her said quietly: 
 
 ' Here you are." 
 
 " Where did you drop from ? " she asked, as 
 composedly as if there were no tumult going 
 on inside her. 
 
 I came around through the woods to the 
 back. I knew Cyril would be in his workshop, 
 and I wanted to speak to him. Joseph told 
 me that he thought you were down here." 
 
 " I love it here. Do you see that lemon- 
 coloured lily with the deep yellow stamens ? 
 That is new since yesterday. I want Mr. Van 
 Horn to see it." 
 
 " I took dinner there last night." 
 
 " So Cyril told me. He said he wanted you 
 to stay to dinner here." 
 
 :< How did you and he get along together ? " 
 
 " Finely. I played for him all the evening. 
 He has quite forgiven me my infirmities." 
 
 " Poor Cyril! " 
 
 1 You have, you shall have, no occasion to 
 call him that! " 
 
i3 6 The Things that Count 
 
 " I '11 say ' poor Richard ' then. Did you 
 know my name was Richard ? " 
 
 " I did." 
 
 " Do you like it ?" 
 
 " Fairly well." 
 
 " Don't you like .it better than that odious 
 Mr. Palmer?" 
 
 " I do for to-day, for every day that you are 
 as nice to me as you are to-day. You are very 
 nice to me this morning, Richard." 
 
 " Do you know what I am going to do with 
 you ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " I am going to take you over to Bay Island. 
 Joseph is putting up some lunch for us now." 
 ' How perfectly delicious ! It was the thing 
 of all others that I wanted to do this glorious 
 morning. But what will Cyril say to our de- 
 serting him ? " 
 
 " I went to him, and said, without any pre- 
 liminaries: ' Cyril, I want to ask Miss Smith 
 to go to Bay Island with me/ ' All right,' he 
 said. ' Tell Joseph to put up some lunch for 
 you.' And then he added that I might as well 
 tell him lunch for three, and that he, Cyril, 
 would get some lunch in the village, so that 
 there would be no occasion for any one to find 
 out that he did n't go too." 
 
 " What did you say to that ? " asked Evelyn, 
 
An Idyl 137 
 
 not trying to keep the happiness out of her 
 voice. 
 
 " I said, ' Thanks, old fellow. I '11 see you 
 when we get back.' ' 
 
 " What do you suppose he thinks ?" she 
 asked. 
 
 " I don't know, and don't care. Do you ?" 
 
 " Not a scrap." 
 
 " Come, get up, you lazy young person," he 
 went on. ' You can't spend the whole morn- 
 ing dreaming over lily ponds. Do you realise 
 that this is going to be a day which we will 
 never forget ? Go and get your hat, and some- 
 thing to put around you, and then we will 
 start." He took both her hands to help her 
 to her feet, but she lay there for a minute 
 looking up at his fresh-coloured, spick-and- 
 span self. 
 
 * Your eyes are a real forget-me-not blue. 
 You are very good to* look at this morning, 
 Richard," she said presently. 
 
 " So are you," he answered, and then they 
 both laughed, and she let him pull her to her 
 feet. 
 
 In ten minutes they were walking along the 
 beach to the pier, Palmer with a huge lunch- 
 basket on his arm. He had protested at the 
 size, but Joseph had declared that there 
 was n't so much in it as there seemed to be. 
 
138 The Things that Count 
 
 They said very little until they had embarked, 
 with the aid of two old sailors who were hang- 
 ing around the pier, and had started on a long 
 tack across the bay. The wind was light but 
 steady, and freshened as they drew out from 
 the shore. When the boat was well under 
 way, Richard came and sat down beside 
 Evelyn, who was steering. 
 
 ' Evelyn," he began seriously. 
 
 " Yes," she answered. 
 
 " I want this to be a happy day for us both. 
 I want to forget that we are going to separate 
 so soon, that our futures will probably be as 
 distinct as two stars. I want to forget that we 
 are not always in sympathy, that we do not 
 agree about a great many things just for to- 
 day. Are you willing ? " 
 
 " I am." 
 
 " You do not need to be told what I feel for 
 you," he continued; " and I know that you 
 like me, more than like me, perhaps ? " Eve- 
 lyn nodded. 
 
 " I know, too, we both know, that it is crazy 
 for us to indulge these feelings, considering 
 your ideas and requirements; that for you and 
 me together there is no future possible. You 
 would demand more of me than I could give 
 you in one sense, and I of you in another. 
 This is no rational, lasting feeling, born of 
 
An Idyl 139 
 
 mutual knowledge and respect; it is not the 
 gradual intensifying and uplifting of friendship, 
 which is the only safe foundation ; it is simply 
 a caprice, a strong one on my side; but I am, 
 I shall be^stronger than it. Now to-day is to 
 be my last piece of self-indulgence. I know 
 that it cannot hurt you, and if it makes the 
 future harder for me, well, I can stand it. I 
 am doing this thing deliberately. What do 
 you think of it ? Is there anything about it 
 that does n't seem perfectly fair to you ? Tell 
 me honestly." A cloud had drifted over the 
 sun, and the sunshine had also gone from 
 Evelyn's heart. 
 
 " How terribly cold-blooded you are! " she 
 exclaimed. 
 
 " I cold-blooded ? How little you know me 
 if you think that. Well, shall we give up our 
 day together? Shall we go back?" The 
 sun had come out again and was sparkling on 
 the top of the heaving green translucent 
 waves. The gulls were flying overhead, and 
 the breeze was soft on Evelyn's cheek. 
 
 ;< No," she said decidedly. 
 
 ' You surely do not think that there is any- 
 thing else possible for us after to-day than to 
 say good-by ? " he continued. " It is n't as 
 if we had anything, anything of the things 
 that matter in common. Our ideals are too 
 
The Things that Count 
 
 hopelessly different. And we have come to a 
 point where mere friendship is not possible. 
 It never has been with me. It has got to be 
 all or nothing. I do not see that we can do 
 anything else, do you ? " 
 
 No," she answered again, as decidedly as 
 if she really meant it. 
 
 He shifted the sail and put the boat about. 
 The sail drooped for a moment, then the wind 
 filled it out, and they started on their south- 
 easterly course. 
 
 "Come," he began, when he had seated him- 
 self beside her again. " We must n't be pen- 
 sive and spoil our day. If I have got to pay 
 for it afterwards, I want my money's worth 
 now. It seemed only fair to put the case 
 honestly before you. Perhaps I ought to have 
 done it before we started, but I did n't take it 
 so seriously beforehand as we seem to be 
 doing now." 
 
 Why did you think it necessary at all ? 
 To guard my young feelings ? " 
 
 Palmer burst out laughing. 
 
 " Are you trying to make me angry ? " he 
 asked. ' Well, you won't succeed to-day. 
 Besides, I know that you don't really think 
 that. My dear girl, I am a strong man ; I 
 think stronger than most; yet if you came to 
 me with those young feelings fully aflame, 
 
An Idyl I4 1 
 
 how much do you think my boasted strength 
 would amount to ? " 
 
 " And yet you believe that you would regret 
 it for the rest of your life." 
 
 1 ' Undoubtedly, we both should, ' ' he replied ; 
 ' but although I know that, I should n't even 
 struggle. I suppose we ought to be thankful 
 that your young feelings are so well regulated ; 
 but, do you know, in spite of my better judg- 
 ment and everything, I am profoundly un- 
 happy because of it." 
 
 This speech brought the sunshine back. It 
 was undoubtedly perverted ; but she much pre- 
 ferred what he gave her to the respect and 
 admiration which he gave Dolly, for instance. 
 Her spirits rose again. 
 
 "Is n't this delicious?" she exclaimed 
 rapturously. "A whole day before us! Don't 
 let 's think of the future. To-day is enough." 
 
 It was one o'clock before a final tack 
 brought them to the seaward side of Bay 
 Island. 
 
 4 To think that I should really have got here 
 at last ! " Richard exclaimed, as he beached the 
 boat on the shingle. Then he added : " I sup- 
 pose it is my duty to pull the boat well up out 
 of the way of the tricks of the tide ; but I con- 
 fess that I should n't mind it a bit if she floated 
 away and left us stranded here. The nights 
 
The Things that Count 
 
 are warm now, and we have apparently pro- 
 visions enough for a week." 
 
 ' The wind seems to be dying down. Won't 
 that answer the purpose equally well ? " asked 
 Evelyn. 
 
 ' Unfortunately, there happens to be a pair 
 of oars in the boat, and it would be my painful 
 duty to row you home.", 
 
 ' Well, we have several hours before us any- 
 way. What shall we do first ? " asked Evelyn. 
 
 " Can you ask ? Lunch, of course." 
 
 He took the basket and a couple of cushions 
 out of the boat, which he had securely fastened 
 to a peaked rock above high-water mark, and 
 they started to climb the bluff which encircled 
 the shore of the island. 
 
 " This is certainly a right little, tight little 
 island," said Richard, when they had reached 
 the top and had stopped to take breath. The 
 entire island, which was not more than half a 
 mile in diameter, was covered with thick pine 
 woods. A soft mat of brown needles lay on 
 the ground, and through this grew tall brakes 
 and long trailing green vines. The gentle 
 splash of the waves on the shore mingled de- 
 liciously with the crooning of the wind in the 
 tree tops. 
 
 ' Is n't this idyllic!" exclaimed Evelyn. 
 " There is no defiling presence of man 
 
An Idyl 143 
 
 anywhere. I should expect to find cans and 
 bottles. It is real virgin forest. We could 
 pretend that we had discovered it." 
 
 ' We will," said Richard. " But first, we 
 must accidentally discover the spring old Tom 
 told us about, and put our bottles in it. I '11 
 take a look around in search of water." He 
 put his load down, and started off on a tour of 
 investigation, while Evelyn dropped down on 
 the ground, too lazily content to move. He 
 came back presently, announcing that he had 
 found it. 
 
 " And what do you think I found by it ? " 
 he demanded. 
 
 " I can't imagine." 
 
 " A sardine can and two beer bottles." 
 " You did n't leave them there ? " 
 " Oh, no; I disposed of them so that they 
 should n't offend your ladyship. Remember 
 that we have lunch for three to eat," he went 
 on when they were seated by the spring, which 
 came bubbling out of a rocky hole fringed with 
 ferns, and dropped into a little natural basin. 
 Out of this it trickled in a small subdued stream 
 a hundred yards or so, where it fell over the 
 cliff in a minature waterfall, and sank in the 
 beach below. 
 
 ' I can eat for one and a half," said Evelyn, 
 beginning to unpack the basket. " What a 
 
144 The Things that Count 
 
 nice lunch, and how nicely put up!" she 
 exclaimed, as she uncovered its contents. 
 " Chicken salad, with the dressing separate in 
 a bottle, and cold filet, and dear little birds, 
 and fresh brown bread and butter, and Swiss 
 cheese, and little frosted cakes, and a glass 
 jar of ripe red strawberries, and a bottle of 
 cream." 
 
 " And two bottles of beer in the spring," 
 added Richard. " My, but it looks good! " 
 
 ' There is n't so much left as one would ex- 
 pect," he remarked when they had eaten all 
 that they could, and Evelyn was packing the 
 remains in the basket, to be given to old Tom 
 on their return. 
 
 " Come, let 's explore," she suggested, after 
 she had washed her hands at the spring. 
 
 " A little exercise would n't be a bad thing," 
 he replied. 
 
 They made the circuit of the island, coming 
 back to a knoll near the place where they had 
 eaten their lunch, from which they had a view, 
 through the trees, of the ocean stretching away 
 to the eastward. Little flicks of sunshine came 
 down through the branches, but the trunk of a 
 large pine kept it off them. Richard got the 
 cushions, and put them behind Evelyn as she sat 
 with her back to the tree. He himself lay down 
 and put his head on a fold of her linen skirt. 
 
An Idyl 145 
 
 " This is not taking advantage, is it ? " he 
 asked. 
 
 "I don't care if it is," she answered, smiling. 
 They sat in silence for some time. Evelyn 
 was tranquilly happy, absorbed in the beauty 
 around her and in her companion. She had so 
 much to enjoy that to talk seemed almost 
 superfluous. 
 
 " I am so hampered," Richard said at 
 length. " I thought that I could indulge my- 
 self for one day, one little day, and be happy, 
 but my accursed Puritan nature is too much 
 for me. I am not happy. I have n't really 
 been happy one minute to-day, except perhaps 
 when we were at lunch," he added, with a 
 laugh. ' There has been a sort of surface con- 
 tent ; but deep down in me there has been 
 unrest and dissatisfaction. I can't live by the 
 day or the hour ; I have n't enough of the South 
 in me for that." 
 
 " I have been thoroughly happy, and I 
 thought you were too," Evelyn replied. ' I 
 am sorry, Richard." She laid her hand 
 lightly on his hair for a moment. 
 
 " I am not satisfied to have you so near me, 
 and yet to have no hold over you," he con- 
 tinued. " And when you speak to me in the 
 tone you used just now, it makes me sick to 
 think that we shall never be anything more 
 
146 The Things that Count 
 
 than this to each other, and this only for the 
 day that is going so fast." Evelyn did not 
 reply, and they sat there in silence, her hand 
 stroking the hair back from his forehead. 
 Presently he broke the silence. 
 
 Evelyn, tell me, were you ever very much 
 in love ? Did you ever care for a man more 
 than you care for me ? " 
 
 " I did once." 
 
 " I am glad," he answered unexpectedly. 
 " I should hate to think that you could n't 
 care any more. Tell me about it. What was 
 his name, so that I can hate him if I ever meet 
 him?" 
 
 " Do you really want to know ? " 
 I most certainly do." 
 
 4 Then I will tell you. His name was Arthur 
 Hunt." Richard sat half-way up in his sur- 
 prise. 
 
 14 I don't understand," he said, in a puzzled 
 tone. 
 
 14 Did that solution of the problem never 
 occur to you ? " 
 
 It never did. Are you in earnest ? Then 
 why " He paused, evidently trying to put 
 the different parts of the story together. 
 
 Why did I throw him over and dance the 
 cotillion with Mr. Bleecker ? No, it was not 
 ambition. It was simply that I did not dare 
 
An Idyl 14? 
 
 trust myself to dance with him that night, for 
 I was as much convinced that it would be 
 suicide to marry him as you are that it would 
 be to marry me." Her voice faltered a little 
 as she uttered the last few words. It was the 
 first time that the definite word " marry " had 
 been used by either of them. 
 
 " And you really cared ? You were not de- 
 ceiving him about that before ? " he asked. 
 
 " I was attracted to him the first time I met 
 him, and I began to care almost immediately. 
 I had never been in love before, strange as it 
 may seem, and it was some little time before 
 I realised the way things were going. I simply 
 could not marry a poor man. I had just seen 
 it tried by a friend of mine, a girl who cared less 
 for the pomps and vanities than I did, and be- 
 fore she had been married a year she was re- 
 penting it heartily. At that time there was no 
 happiness possible for me that was n't gilded. 
 Things, material possessions, were of such 
 tremendous consequence to me. They had 
 been so all my life. I was poor, desperately 
 poor, before my aunt adopted me, and I never 
 could forget the unmitigated wretchedness of 
 our lives. I see now that it need not have 
 been so if my mother had been a different kind 
 of woman ; but I did n't then. I did n't realise 
 that there was such a thing as nice, clean, 
 
148 The Things that Count 
 
 unpretentious, sweet-smelling, self-respecting 
 poverty; and even if I had realised it, it would 
 n't have satisfied me then, for I was terribly am- 
 bitious socially in those days. I felt afterwards 
 that I had made a mistake about Arthur, I 
 mean; but I honestly made the best decision 
 I could at the time. And I felt that it was the 
 truest kindness to him to be cruel, to do the 
 thing up with one blow. I had not meant to 
 mislead him, but it had gone so far before I 
 knew it. It was one of those sudden affairs. 
 And it was n't until some time afterwards that 
 I realised how much encouragement I had 
 given to him. You see, nothing had ever 
 been actually said. I did so long to tell him 
 all about it at that dinner last winter," she 
 continued; " but, you see, it would have been 
 so easy for him to misunderstand my motives. 
 If I had only known at the time that he was to 
 be married, I might have done so. I suppose 
 he thought that I tried to capture Stuart 
 Bleecker and slipped up on it. That is not 
 true. I never tried for him. I think I could 
 have had him if I had done so, though you 
 never can tell. The stupidest rich men learn 
 to put a high valuation on themselves." 
 
 ' You have intended marrying for money ; 
 you do intend it now, do you not ? " Richard 
 asked in a low voice. 
 
An Idyl 149 
 
 " I am not so sure about now, but T cer- 
 tainly did intend it. The trouble was, how- 
 ever, that I could never keep myself up to my 
 intentions. Just as soon as there came any 
 approach to love-making, I simply could not 
 stand it. I inevitably betrayed my real feel- 
 ings, and the whole thing fell through. This 
 has happened several times. I have never 
 cared for more than an evening for any man 
 but Arthur." 
 
 " And you say that you cared for him much 
 more than you do for me ? " 
 
 ' Yes, much more. I will be frank with 
 you, Richard. I am fond of you, very fond 
 in a way ; but I am not in love with y.ou. Your 
 attitude towards me chills me, keeps down my 
 temperature. I like you, and admire you more 
 than any man I have ever known (there is more 
 to you than to Arthur) ; but I do not love you. 
 I think that you could make me if you wanted 
 to ; that is, if you loved me without reserva- 
 tions ; but I do not think I shall get to it by 
 myself. I am too hardened ; the world has 
 been too much with me. I should not want 
 to marry you, if you wanted me to at least, 
 I think not. I might marry a poor man now 
 if I were in love with him, but it would never 
 be a man who loved me in spite of his better 
 judgment." 
 
150 The Things that Count 
 
 " I thought you cared more than this," 
 Richard protested sadly, burying his face in 
 her dress. 
 
 " I do care. I am not in love with you, but 
 I care for you more than for anybody on earth. 
 I have everything but the divine spark. I am 
 so contented to be with you. I like everything 
 about you, all your little ways. I like the way 
 you take off your hat, and the way you light a 
 cigar, and oh, I could n't begin to mention 
 them ; I like them all so much. And you are 
 so pleasing to me personally. I like to have 
 you touch me, and if I thought it was a fair 
 thing to do, it would give me a great deal of 
 pleasure this very minute to take your head in 
 my arms and kiss you." 
 
 " Oh, Evelyn," he murmured, moving his 
 head up closer until it rested against her; 
 " can't you learn to love me ? How can I let 
 you go ? " 
 
 ' You think that now because I am showing 
 you a very nice side of myself this afternoon, 
 the nicest, perhaps (except one or two), which I 
 have. You forget that I am the same girl that 
 I was yesterday and will be to-morrow." 
 
 ' The same yesterday, to-day, and forever,* 
 I don't believe it. Evelyn, dear Evelyn," he 
 broke off, sitting up and looking straight at her, 
 " when you have such a fine side, how can you 
 
An Idyl 151 
 
 let the other get uppermost ? There are such 
 splendid things about you. You are so honest 
 about yourself, and so little vain, with all that 
 you have to make you so. And you are just 
 and fair, large-minded in one way, or you 
 would never have put up with my attitude, 
 my detestable, cold-blooded (you were right 
 to call it so) attitude towards you. You bear 
 no resentment, you treat me like an angel. 
 You are wonderfully sweet-tempered." 
 
 ;< Now for the but," she put in with a smile 
 as he paused. 
 
 " I could n't say it if I did n't have your 
 welfare so terribly at heart," he went on after 
 a little pause. ;< I have simply got to make 
 you wake up to what your life really is. If I 
 hurt you, remember why I say it. It kills me 
 that you are so much less of a woman than 
 you ought to be." He reached over and took 
 her hand in his, while he continued, with the 
 same air of determination, like a man who has 
 made up his mind to go through with a dis- 
 agreeable duty: " This is so that you can't 
 forget that I am in sympathy with you even if 
 I criticise you, that I am on your side. Evelyn 
 dear, can't you be truer to yourself ? How 
 can you live in this woman's house, eat her 
 salt, and pretend to be her friend, simply be- 
 cause you like purple and fine linen ? How 
 
i5 2 The Things that Count 
 
 can you be so hypocritical ? And it is not 
 with her alone. I notice it with all the guests 
 who come to the house. You are so politic 
 (how you have taught yourself to be, when 
 honesty comes so naturally to you, I can't im- 
 agine), and you discover everyone's weak point, 
 and flatter him into liking you. You do it 
 artistically, I admit. There is no slapping it 
 on with a trowel. I could forgive you for it 
 more easily if it was because you had a craving 
 for admiration, as I once thought you had; 
 but it is simply that you think these people 
 may be of use to you some day." 
 
 " I really liked Mr. Van Horn," Evelyn pro- 
 tested, evidently not at all offended at this 
 plain speaking. " I loved him on the spot, 
 and honestly forgot that it might be to my 
 advantage to make him like me. Besides, it 
 would n't be of much use, the man of the 
 house. If I had had interested motives, I 
 should have attempted Mrs. Van Horn. Do 
 you believe me ? " 
 
 " I always believe you when you talk to me. 
 How beautifully you are taking this! Here, I 
 want your other hand too. I want to feel that 
 you are not angry with me. Do you remem- 
 ber that night when I warmed them for you ? 
 I knew that you must care a little for me that 
 night, or you would never have let me come so 
 
An Idyl 153 
 
 near. I had to be rough to you. I could n't 
 help it." 
 
 " How is it that you don't think that it is 
 one of my little ways with men ? It would n't 
 be inconsistent with all the rest." 
 
 " I tried to, but I could n't. You don't let 
 men in general take liberties with you, do you, 
 Evelyn ? " 
 
 " Not often. I have done it once or twice 
 in my life, and have been heartily sorry for it 
 afterwards. It was generally when I was try- 
 ing to screw myself up to the necessary pitch 
 and the man, too. There was one cold- 
 blooded creature (not as you are, Richard, it is 
 not really your blood but your head that is 
 cold), and he did n't come to the point quickly 
 enough. Oh, don't let 's talk about it. It 's 
 so ugly. It makes me feel so cheap. I 'm so 
 ashamed. Let me have my hands to hide my 
 face." 
 
 ' There is always this fight between your 
 two natures, and always will be until you make 
 up your mind to let the higher win," he con- 
 tinued, after a pause. He had released her 
 hands, and she had moved a little away from 
 him. It is hard to say how it will turn out. 
 I sometimes think that you will have a great 
 awakening some day, that you will undergo a 
 baptism as of fire, and come out cleansed, to be 
 
154 The Things that Count 
 
 the noble woman you have it in you to be. I 
 would to God I had the power to work this 
 miracle ; but I am so powerless with you. I 
 care so much that you are in the superior posi- 
 tion, even when I scold you. I should like to 
 see you subjugated, Evelyn, not by brute 
 force, but by the strength of your feeling for 
 someone. I don't mean, of course, that I 
 should really like it," he added, after a pause. 
 " It would be one of the bitterest moments in 
 my life; but I should have the strength to 
 bear it if it meant your salvation." 
 
 " Go on with my scolding. It does me 
 good," Evelyn remarked presently, breaking 
 the silence that followed his words, which had 
 touched her deeply. 
 
 " The worst thing of all is that you have 
 lowered your ideals so much," he continued, 
 after a moment's reflection. ' You disbelieve 
 in everybody and everything. You have such 
 a lot of cheap cynicism on hand, ready to use 
 when there is no particular reason for your 
 wishing to appear all benevolence. You are 
 the most profoundly disillusioned person that 
 I know. You actually talk sometimes as if 
 you did n't believe that there are such things 
 as sincerity, disinterested affection; as if truth 
 were simply an abstraction with no reality be- 
 hind it. You class poverty with disgrace, and 
 
An Idyl 155 
 
 I believe you think it of more importance to 
 dress well than to live well." 
 
 " If you only knew how hideous some of my 
 life has been," she protested in a low voice, 
 picking up handfuls of pine needles and scatter- 
 ing them in the air. 
 
 Was not some of it your own fault ? Your 
 life of late years has been what you chose to 
 make it, and you chose food for the body 
 rather than the soul. You have let the higher 
 part of you starve. You do not even improve 
 your mind. You never read anything but the 
 lightest of novels, do you ? " 
 
 " Never nowadays. It takes every spare 
 moment I have to make my clothes." 
 
 ' Yes ; and that is merely for the day. You 
 are laying up no store for the future. You are 
 a very charming woman now ; but do you think 
 you will be able to hold your own when you 
 are middle-aged ? I never knew a woman who 
 spent her youth simply in amusing herself who 
 was of any particular consequence personally 
 when she was older. It is a hard doctrine to 
 accept, that man is made for toil; but we all 
 have to come to it, sooner or later. Theoreti- 
 cally, it seems foolish to spend our lives labour- 
 ing for ends that are of no importance in the 
 scheme of the universe. Our greatest efforts 
 are so ineffectual ; why not be lazy ? What is 
 
156 The Things that Count 
 
 the use of studying when we make so little im- 
 pression on the immensity of our ignorance ? 
 I am always asking myself if it is n't a super- 
 stition to think that it is better to work than 
 be idle, and I am inclined to think that it is 
 until I look at the people who lead idle lives. 
 It is all very well when they are young, but if 
 they keep it up they are pitiful when they are 
 old small-minded, trivial, of no consequence 
 to anyone. Unreasonable as it may seem, it 
 is a sad fact that we have got to improve our- 
 selves if we do not want to deteriorate, and to 
 work for every tiny bit of happiness that comes 
 to us. Of course, there is nothing new in what 
 I have been saying," he went on. ' We have 
 all heard it said a million times; but I do not 
 think you can have realised it for yourself, or 
 you would feel that what you put in your head 
 is of more importance than what you put on 
 your back." 
 
 "But I never knew a man who noticed a wom- 
 an's clothes more than you do," Evelyn pro- 
 tested. " I don't believe a woman would be of 
 consequence to you, no matter what she had in 
 her head, if she were dowdy." Richard laughed. 
 
 " I am terribly inconsistent," he said, add- 
 ing: " But you know what I mean. There is 
 a midway course in everything. And you 
 are n't angry with me, not one bit ? " 
 
An Idyl 157 
 
 " Not one bit. It is a relief to have you 
 put into words the things that I have known 
 you were feeling. Indefinite disapproval is 
 so much more uncomfortable than definite. 
 Let 's have the rest." 
 
 " There is n't any rest. We have had 
 enough." 
 
 ' There is a lot more, and you know it," she 
 asserted positively. " I will help you out. 
 Do you know, I sometimes see such hard, 
 worldly lines in my face when I look in the glass 
 that it frightens me. And I have coarsened 
 and cheapened myself in so many ways. I am 
 naturally refined, but I have tried to adjust my- 
 self to my company until I can say quite com- 
 mon things without a blush in quarters where 
 I know such things are acceptable. There ! I 
 think that is the worst symptom of my de- 
 generation. It is so to me. I can never 
 reconcile my taste to it." 
 
 " That is n't the worst to me, because with 
 you it is just a habit that could be dropped," 
 said Richard. " I don't believe it has affected 
 the real you. I never see. a sign of anything 
 that is not ultra-refined. What I mind most, 
 what makes me feel the untraversable distance 
 between us most thoroughly, is the importance 
 that you put on things that are absolutely 
 without importance to me. It seems as if, 
 
158 The Things that Count 
 
 with your brains, you ought to have got to a 
 more intelligent position. I can't understand 
 how a woman as clever as you are can have 
 social aspirations, how the surface glitter of 
 things can blind you to the stupidity, the 
 empty-headedness, the boredom of it all under- 
 neath. How a woman of sense can take pay- 
 ing calls and going to teas seriously, I can't 
 conceive. Of course, I don't usually put this 
 feeling into words. It looks too much like 
 sour grapes ; for if a person runs down society, 
 people who don't agree with him always as- 
 sume that it is because he can't have it. You 
 know that this is not true with me. I have 
 not only no desire, but an honest aversion to 
 it. And these aspirations in you make me feel 
 that we are not the same kind of people. I 
 shall never change in this respect ; and I could 
 not adjust my life to suit that of a woman with 
 these ideals, because I feel so strongly that it 
 would be a lowering of my standards, even a 
 falsifying of them, by giving a fictitious import- 
 ance to things that are of slight consequence. 
 Of course, I remember only too well that you 
 don't want to marry me. I am not explaining 
 to you why I won't do you the honour of 
 making you my wife," he continued, stretch- 
 ing out his hand and taking hers. 
 
 " How terribly modern we are!" Evelyn 
 
An Idyl 159 
 
 remarked. " Imagine an old-fashioned heroine 
 listening calmly to a man's telling her his 
 objections to her from a matrimonial standard. 
 Her pride would have been up in arms at the 
 first suggestion that she was not an angel ; she 
 would have quarrelled with him violently and 
 have married another man out of pique in the 
 next chapter. She could no more have dis- 
 cussed such a subject with a man, nor he with 
 her. Do you know, I often wonder if the 
 vanity, the chip-on-the-shoulder attitude, is not 
 dying out in the relations of men and women. 
 I had a great deal of it when I was younger, 
 but I seem to have so little now. Supposing 
 I loved you, I could tell you so calmly and 
 unblushingly, and accept your decision that 
 I would n't do, without any very great mor- 
 tification, whatever pain I might feel at it. 
 Am I abnormal ? I have no feeling of of- 
 fended pride because of what you have told 
 me, only a profound regret that what you say 
 should be true. I suppose, after all, it is partly 
 you, because you are so free from vanity or 
 complacency yourself," she added. 
 
 " And how little else besides the mutual at- 
 traction which we call love used to be con- 
 sidered, or is considered now, by most people," 
 said Richard, following his own train of 
 thought. " Are we others cold-blooded ? I 
 
160 The Things that Count 
 
 think we are a little ; but, after practising self- 
 control and self-denial all my life, they have 
 got the mastery of me, and I can no more fling 
 them off and follow my impulses than I could 
 strike a man dead who annoyed me. If that 
 is cold-blooded, I am cold-blooded; but I 
 honestly don't think that I feel less so much 
 as that I have stronger forces at command with 
 which to fight my feelings." 
 
 " If you control the expression of anger, the 
 feeling itself gets less in time," she remarked 
 thoughtfully. 
 
 ' Yes; and I suppose we do feel less in a 
 way for letting our minds get the mastery of 
 our emotions. I suppose it is inevitable. But 
 I can no more understand, to speak generally 
 (I am not referring to you and me), how people 
 who think and have used self-control all their 
 lives can blindly enter into a life-contract with 
 a person solely on the ground that they feel a 
 strong attraction for one another. It is so 
 irrational." 
 
 " Richard, you are cold-blooded!" she de- 
 clared. 
 
 " Don't tempt me! " he protested, sitting up 
 straight and looking at her with eyes that were 
 not cold. ' You would n't like me to show 
 you that I am not cold-blooded, would you ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ! " she exclaimed, retreating a little. 
 
An Idyl 161 
 
 "I really don't think that I am cold-blooded," 
 he continued calmly. " I could tell you a 
 thing or two that would make you change your 
 mind, but they are things that I have no right 
 to tell you after what I have said to you this 
 afternoon." 
 
 Evelyn did not answer. A silence fell be- 
 tween them, which lasted some little time. 
 Finally she gathered herself together and got 
 up. 
 
 " Come, we must go now," she said. 
 
 " Not when you speak like that to me," he 
 protested. 
 
 " I am not angry; I am simply chilled by so 
 much common sense. I don't want any pro- 
 testations (I should dislike them exceedingly) ; 
 but I tell you frankly that I don't in the least 
 believe in the strength of your feeling for me. 
 It is what is vulgarly called a crush. It will 
 be gone before you know it. I go myself on 
 Tuesday, and in about a month you will find 
 yourself completely heart-whole." 
 
 ' You go on Tuesday! Where ?" he ex- 
 claimed in dismay. 
 
 I am going to Lenox first. I have stayed 
 here three times as long as I intended to, and 
 you know that it is important that I keep up 
 my connection with the gay world. If I once 
 drop out, I am lost." 
 
1 62 The Things that Count 
 
 " I wish to heaven you were, then ! " he ex- 
 claimed fervently, as they walked toward the 
 spring where the basket and their other belong- 
 ings were. 
 
 " What should I do if I were out of it ?" 
 she asked. " Go to live in Jersey City with 
 my mother and Clara ? " 
 
 " Why not ? " 
 
 " You ought to see my home," she said 
 bitterly. 
 
 " Anything is better than your present life," 
 he asserted positively. 
 
 " Ah, that is so easy to say," she returned. 
 
 They embarked in silence and, after a tack 
 to get clear of the island, sailed straight for the 
 pier. They did not talk. They felt suddenly 
 cold towards each other and out of sympathy. 
 The glory had gone off the day, figuratively as 
 well as literally, and the fog was coming in 
 from the ocean. Richard made Evelyn put 
 her coat on. 
 
 " What is it ? " he asked at last, when they 
 were approaching the pier. The wind was with 
 them, and they had made a quick trip. ' ' What 
 has happened to our beautiful day ? You say 
 that you are not angry with me, and I am sure 
 that I am not angry with you, so what is 
 it?" 
 
 " We both have a grievance," she explained. 
 
An Idyl 163 
 
 " You don't want to marry me, and I don't 
 want to marry you, but we don't like it, either 
 of us, that the other should feel so. It is a 
 case, or two cases, of wounded vanity. You 
 see, I did n't mind your telling me so I was 
 so evidently the centre of interest while we 
 were discussing it; but, now that it has got 
 cold, I don't quite like it. I take back my re- 
 marks on the wane of pride in the relations of 
 men and women. If there are any objections 
 to be made to anybody, I prefer to make them 
 myself." Richard laughed. 
 
 I believe you are right. I confess I don't 
 quite like your being so satisfied that I am not 
 at your feet." Evelyn waited until he had 
 brought the boat up to the pier, where old 
 Tom was waiting to help them land, before she 
 said : 
 
 ' Well, you see, I know very well that I 
 could have you there if I really wanted you." 
 He gave her a half-amused, half-indignant 
 look, but he had no opportunity to answer 
 until they had left the pier and were walking 
 along the beach. 
 
 ' That was an astonishing statement you 
 made," he remarked quietly. 
 
 It is true," she replied, with conviction. 
 " I could make you forget your cold-blooded 
 calculations if I chose." 
 
1 64 The Things that Count 
 
 "Why don't you do it then?" he de- 
 manded. 
 
 ' What should I do with you afterwards ? " 
 
 " True," he replied. " I forgot that con- 
 sideration." 
 
 " You don't believe me ? " 
 
 " I am afraid I have to. I know that it is 
 true," he answered soberly. 
 
 He left her at the edge of the lawn, and went 
 off through the pines to Cyril's workshop, and 
 Evelyn did not see him again that night. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE SCENE CHANGES 
 
 MRS. PERKINS and Dolly arrived home 
 by dinner-time the next day, very glad 
 to get there, the hotel at Haverly being any- 
 thing but comfortable. On the Saturday before, 
 Evelyn had told her hostess of her intended 
 departure, and had received some hollow- 
 sounding regrets, but no further invitation to 
 remain. Dolly, who had not heard the news 
 until after they had set out for Haverly, was 
 flatteringly sorry. 
 
 Evelyn had only one more talk with Richard 
 before she left. After she was ready to go on 
 Tuesday morning, and had said good-by to the 
 servants, she had half an hour to spare, and 
 went down to the lily pond, apparently to see 
 if a certain long-awaited pink lily had bloomed. 
 As she had expected, Richard came and joined 
 her there. 
 
 I was just wondering how I could see you. 
 I had something to say to you," she remarked. 
 165 
 
1 66 The Things that Count 
 
 ' How long before you go? " he asked, in a 
 perfectly expressionless voice. 
 
 " In about twenty minutes." A silence fol- 
 lowed, which she broke by making some remark 
 about the pink water lily. 
 
 "How fond you are of all that sort of thing ! " 
 he exclaimed. 
 
 " I have a real personal interest in flowers, 
 and I am honestly disappointed that the pink 
 lily is n't out. It is part of my love of the 
 harmonious. Flowers are such a comfort. 
 There is nothing unsightly or jarring about 
 them." 
 
 ' Unless you get an orange nasturtium, a 
 crimson petunia, and a scarlet geranium to- 
 gether, which seems to be a favourite combina- 
 tion of so many gardeners." 
 
 ' Well, even that is not so unpleasant as a 
 dirty carpet or a bad odour." 
 
 " Oh, if you are making comparisons,nothing 
 is so bad as something else. But what did you 
 want to say to me ? You have n't much time, 
 and somebody may come along." 
 
 " I wanted to tell you of something that may 
 happen. It seemed fairer. The Armitages, 
 the people I am going to visit first, have a 
 cousin, a wealthy bachelor of about forty-five, 
 who has been more or less attracted to me for 
 some time." 
 
The Scene Changes 167 
 
 ' 'Well?" Richard asked calmly, as she 
 paused. 
 
 He has n't told me so in so many words, 
 for, although my poverty is of no particular 
 consequence to him, my lack of family is. He 
 cannot quite bring himself to overlook that." 
 
 ' Why don't you make him do it then ? " 
 Richard demanded. 
 
 " I often ask myself that. Perhaps I shall 
 now. I must make my hay while the sun 
 shines. Besides, he has a great many virtues. 
 He is well-educated, good-tempered, generous, 
 and he has no bad habits of any kind. He 
 does n't even smoke not that I should mind 
 that." 
 
 " I should say that it was a thoroughly good 
 thing," Richard remarked tranquilly. 
 
 " So it is. Of course it may come to nothing. 
 It is six months since he has seen me, and the 
 charm may be broken. I just wanted to let 
 you know that there was a chance of it." 
 
 ' That was considerate of you," he replied, 
 in so expressionless a tone that Evelyn could 
 not make up her mind whether he was speak- 
 ing ironically or in good faith. She gave him 
 a searching look, but his face was impassive. 
 
 " Well, that is all," she continued. " I sup- 
 pose we shall meet again some day ; the world 
 is so small." 
 
1 68 The Things that Count 
 
 " I have no doubt of it," he returned. 
 Evelyn was so irritated at his impeturbability 
 that she determined to make him show some 
 feeling whether he wished to or not. 
 
 " Our acquaintance has certainly added to 
 the interest of the summer for me," she con- 
 tinued. " I don't know what I should have 
 done without some one to keep my hand in if it 
 had not been for you, since I did n't dare try 
 any experiments with Cyril. He is too young 
 to conceal his feelings, and his mamma might 
 have objected. And then, of course, I knew 
 that it could n't be serious with you. You 
 have such perfect self-control that you would 
 never let yourself have more than a passing 
 fancy for a woman of my kind. Indeed, I 
 have felt a little honoured that you should 
 have condescended to make friends with me 
 under the rose, when there was nobody to see 
 that you had stooped." Richard raised his 
 hand with a commanding gesture. 
 
 " Stop!" he said unceremoniously. " That 
 is all rot, and you know it. You are distorting 
 a worthy hesitation to promise to love and re- 
 spect for life a woman of whose life and ideals 
 I thoroughly disapprove into something un- 
 derhand and cowardly. I should never have 
 acknowledged this feeling of mine for you if 
 you had not forced my hand. You know that 
 
The Scene Changes 169 
 
 as well as I do. You grew tired of my reti- 
 cence on the subject, and provoked me into 
 showing it to you. But I do not mean to call 
 you to account," he added more gently. 
 " Come and say good-by to me kindly. There 
 is no reason why we should part as enemies, is 
 there ? " 
 
 A sudden impulse seized Evelyn. She put 
 her hand on his shoulder and looked into his 
 eyes until all the resentment left them, and he 
 had forgotten everything except that she was 
 going to leave him. 
 
 " It won't hurt me/' she said at last, when 
 she was satisfied with his expression. ' There 
 is no bloom left on me to rub off." He frowned 
 at her words, but, all the same, he took her in 
 his arms and kissed her passionately several 
 times. A moment later she raised her head 
 from his breast and, looking over his shoulder, 
 caught a glimpse of Dolly's back disappearing 
 behind a clump of trees across the pond. She 
 had evidently seen and retreated. At that 
 moment Cyril's voice was heard calling her. 
 They separated instantly without a word, and 
 walked out from behind the little thicket of 
 birch to meet him as he came across the lawn 
 from the house. 
 
 ' We were taking a last look at the lily 
 pond," Evelyn said calmly. 
 
1 70 The Things that Count 
 
 ' The pink lily has not been so obliging as 
 to bloom for Miss Smith's departure," Richard 
 remarked. Each of them admired the com- 
 posure of the. other. 
 
 ' We were just wondering where you were. 
 The phaeton is at the door, and my mother is 
 waiting to drive you to the pier," said Cyril. 
 
 " Well, I am all ready. My things are on 
 the steps." 
 
 " You will have to hurry," Mrs. Perkins 
 called out, as they came up to the hall door, 
 where she was already sitting in the pony 
 carriage. 
 
 " There 's lots of time," Richard remarked 
 reassuringly as he looked at his watch. 
 
 " Where 's Dolly ? You '11 want to say 
 good-by to her," Mrs. Perkins went on. 
 
 " I have already said good-by to her once," 
 Evelyn replied untruthfully. She stepped into 
 the phaeton, and Mrs. Perkins drove off. 
 
 " What do you think of Mr. Palmer ? " that 
 lady asked suspiciously, as they were driving 
 along the wooded road. 
 
 " I admire him tremendously. I only wish 
 he shared my feeling," Evelyn replied, with an 
 air of perfect candour. 
 
 " Does n't he ? " Mrs. Perkins asked, in an 
 interested tone. 
 
 " You can see yourself that he generally 
 
The Scene Changes i? 1 
 
 avoids me, and he has told me more than once 
 that he thoroughly disapproves of me. He 
 thinks I ought to do something besides amuse 
 myself." 
 
 ' That is just what I am always telling you," 
 Mrs. Perkins remarked cheerfully. " If you 
 would only read serious books, as I do, or take 
 up some philanthropical or educational work, 
 like my Farmers' Daughters' Club, for instance, 
 it would do you a world of good. It is just 
 the balance that you need. I am glad to have 
 you tell me this," she continued, in a more 
 friendly tone than she had used to her com- 
 panion for a long time. " I thought that he 
 admired you." 
 
 I believe he does admire my looks and my 
 singing," Evelyn replied. " He has spoken 
 about them to Dolly." 
 
 It would have been an unfortunate thing 
 to have anything come of it, I am convinced," 
 Mrs. Perkins continued. ' You see, he is a 
 poor man. I believe that he has nothing 
 whatever, and all the money he has earned has 
 gone to pay some debts of his father's. Now 
 it stands to reason that you are no wife for a 
 poor man. You would keep his nose at the 
 grindstone to supply you with luxuries. Be- 
 sides, Palmer is a thoroughly domestic man. 
 He would want a wife who loved children and 
 
i7 2 The Things that Count 
 
 liked to stay at home evenings and read 
 aloud." 
 
 ' How fortunate it is, then, that we have 
 not fallen in love with each other ! ' ' Evelyn 
 remarked. 
 
 " It is fortunate. , I do not think that you 
 are suited to each other in the least, and I have 
 been afraid for some time that you were get- 
 ting sweet on him. Palmer wants somebody 
 more serious, more mature, in fact, than you 
 are. I am sure that he must cringe inwardly 
 at hearing you speak of sentiment and religion 
 and all that is holiest in the light fashion that 
 you sometimes do." 
 
 " I do not think Mr. Palmer is sentimental," 
 said Evelyn,- resisting the temptation to em- 
 phasise the Mr. 
 
 ' That shows how little you know him. I 
 am convinced that under the mask he wears 
 before the world there exists the truest, most 
 just appreciation of the things which beautify 
 life for us. He has the greatest reverence for 
 womankind, for the love of man and wife, for 
 the home, and I am sure that he could never 
 care seriously for a woman who mocks at these 
 things." 
 
 " I am glad you warned me," Evelyn re- 
 marked innocently, too innocently; for Mrs. 
 Perkins looked at her sharply. She made 
 
The Scene Changes i?3 
 
 haste to add : " I used to wonder what was the 
 reason of a certain antagonism he showed to 
 me." 
 
 " Depend upon it, the way to attract a man 
 like Richard Palmer is not by surface charms, 
 by glitter. He is not a man to be won by 
 smiles and funny little songs, as a lesser man 
 might. He will never give his heart to a 
 woman who does not possess the solider 
 virtues, who has not a serious side as well as a 
 light side to her." Evelyn was tempted to 
 put in: 
 
 " Do you mean like yourself ? " but she did 
 not dare. Besides, her steamer was landing, 
 so she got out of the phaeton, and said good-by 
 to her hostess. 
 
 " Perhaps you will be able to come back 
 before the summer is over," that lady said 
 graciously, evidently reluctant to let her at- 
 tractive guest go, now that her suspicions had 
 been laid at rest. 
 
 Cyril and Richard, who had taken the short 
 cut by the beach, were waiting to put her on 
 board. They were both surprised that Dolly 
 had not appeared, as she had intended coming 
 with them. They took Evelyn's things on 
 board for her and down into her cabin, for the 
 boat remained some minutes at Chenook. 
 
 The last thing Evelyn saw as they steamed 
 
174 The Things that Count 
 
 off from the pier was Richard's face. When 
 it was no longer visible, she went down to her 
 cabin, feeling very forlorn. After she had 
 arranged her traps in her usual neat fashion, 
 she took her steamer rug and golf cape, went 
 up on deck,and established herself in a secluded 
 corner to think it all over. Now, for the first 
 time, she allowed her mind to dwell on the 
 cause of the acute misery that she had been 
 feeling ever since she had lifted up her head 
 from Richard's shoulder and had seen Dolly's 
 blue sunbonnet disappearing behind the trees. 
 Before this, she had persistently refused to let 
 herself think of it at all, but had fought the 
 subject off with a stern, " There '11 be time 
 enough for that later." She wondered if she 
 had done wisely in not mentioning the circum- 
 stance to Richard. She had had no opportun- 
 ity, to be sure, but she could have easily made 
 one in those last minutes in her cabin. Cyril 
 had shown a disposition to take himself off 
 more than once, but she had always detained 
 him. Neither she nor Richard was anxious 
 to be left alone. Their relations had reached 
 the point where a few words more or less were 
 of no value. There was so much to say be- 
 tween them that there was nothing to say. It 
 had been an impulse to leave Richard in ignor- 
 ance of what she had seen, and now that she 
 
The Scene Changes 175 
 
 thought it over, she finally decided that it was 
 the wisest thing that she could have done. 
 
 Her first idea had been that she would write 
 to Dolly and explain; but, on reflection, there 
 did not seem to be anything to explain. She 
 could not write: " It is not as you think. I 
 have not been playing a double part," because 
 her conscience made her acknowledge that she 
 had been playing a double part. As to there 
 being no serious matrimonial intentions be- 
 tween her and Richard, that would only hurt 
 her still more in Dolly's eyes. To her un- 
 sophisticated little Puritan mind, no nice girl, 
 under any conceivable circumstances, would 
 be found in any such compromising situation 
 unless she had been formally asked to marry a 
 man and had as formally consented. For a 
 girl to let a man kiss her " just for instance," 
 as Evelyn put it, betrayed a lack both of good 
 taste and principle that put her immediately 
 beyond the pale of well-regulated young lady- 
 hood. ' ' Poor little Dolly ! nobody ever wanted 
 to kiss her," Evelyn said to herself, with the 
 pity that the woman with power over men 
 always feels for the woman without it. " Still, 
 I don't believe that she would do it, if they 
 did want to," she added honestly; making the 
 further reflection that if they did want to she 
 would not be the same girl, and that, there- 
 
176 The Things that Count 
 
 fore, no conclusions drawn from the present 
 premises would hold. It was as fruitless a 
 speculation, she concluded, as wondering 
 whether you would not have recovered from a 
 complaint as quickly without a doctor. 
 
 She decided at last that there was nothing 
 to do but to wait until time should soften the 
 first impression, and then on some future 
 occasion, when chance should throw them 
 together, to tell Dolly simply that she and 
 Richard had been greatly attracted to each 
 other at Chenook, but had decided that they 
 could not be happy together, and had accord- 
 ingly said good-by forever the day she left. 
 Without suggesting that any duplicity might 
 be laid at her door, she could say, without too 
 great a deviation from the truth, that the situa- 
 tion had not been openly acknowledged be- 
 tween them until the Sunday when Dolly was 
 at Haverly. She would imply that this was 
 the reason why she had not confided in her. 
 She felt that it was fortunate that Dolly had 
 had no means of knowing that she had seen 
 her as she retreated, and, consequently, would 
 give her the credit of making the confession of 
 her own free will. This explanation was true 
 to the letter; and yet Evelyn felt its deviation 
 in spirit so strongly that she felt that it would 
 not be believed in the first flush of Dolly's dis- 
 
The Scene Changes 17? 
 
 covery, while it would stand a better chance 
 later on, when dates and details had grown a 
 little confused in her mind. 
 
 It was characteristic of Evelyn that she felt 
 acutely sorry for Dolly in what she must be 
 suffering at that time. It must be a terrible 
 experience for her to discover that her two best 
 friends had been deceiving her; that she had 
 been, perhaps, merely a catspaw for them both, 
 a blind to attract attention from their own 
 little game. It would especially hurt her to 
 find Richard guilty of deceit, for she had be- 
 lieved in him as in a god. Evelyn had often 
 laughed at her for her unbounded faith. 
 Doubtless Dolly would remember that fact 
 now, and would think that she had spoken 
 from a knowledge of their mutual guilt, and 
 had not been simply teasing her with cynical 
 generalities, as had been the case. The more 
 she thought of Dolly's suffering, the worse she 
 felt. Indeed, she suffered so much for her that 
 she almost lost sight of her own sorrows. She 
 hoped that the experience would not harden 
 her and make her suspicious. She had often 
 laughed at Dolly's optimistic faith in the truth 
 and loyalty of her friends; but the thought 
 hurt her, that it might be killed through her 
 own lack of straightforwardness. 
 
 As she thought it over, it seemed to Evelyn 
 
178 The Things that Count 
 
 that she had been unfair from the first. She 
 should not have let Dolly confide her innocent 
 little enthusiasms over Richard without letting 
 her know that he was more or less interested 
 in herself, and that she returned his interest. 
 She tore down relentlessly her sophistry that 
 she had had no definite knowledge on the sub- 
 ject. She had been morally sure of it even 
 before that night on the beach when she had 
 clung to him in her fright (her assumed fright, 
 she called it now), and had felt his heart 
 making frantic leaps at having her so near. 
 She had been unfair all along: unfair in the 
 pretended fairness that led her to hold herself 
 back from Richard. She had known instinct- 
 ively that he was a man who was tired of 
 women's interest in himself, and she had felt a 
 silent response in him to every act of with- 
 drawal on her part. There had never been 
 one second when she had not known that the 
 way to win him was to hold herself aloof from 
 the contest. Her moments of dropping her 
 role had been nicely calculated to let him see 
 what her drawing near would be like. There 
 should be no danger of his believing her incap- 
 able of warmth. He should have glimpses of 
 what it would be like to love and be loved by 
 a beautiful, warm, human creature of this earth 
 like herself. She was all woman, every inch 
 
The Scene Changes 179 
 
 of her, and she wanted him to know it. How 
 incomprehensible all this would have been to 
 Dolly's innocent little soul. ' How coarse 
 and unrefined she would think me if she knew 
 it," she said to herself. 
 
 Evelyn felt sincerely ashamed of her lack of 
 honesty in all her relations that summer. She 
 was particularly ashamed of herself for having 
 stooped to deceive Mrs. Perkins, in the eleventh 
 hour, in regard to her relations with Richard, 
 the more so as she recognised instantly her 
 motive for having done this. She wanted to 
 reassure her, and so pave the way to future 
 favours. She knew that if she left Chenook 
 with matters on their present footing, she 
 would probably never find herself enjoying the 
 luxuries of the Perkins household again. Ev- 
 elyn was not a woman to snub the biggest 
 bore that ever asked her to dance. There 
 was no telling when he might not be useful. 
 
 The wind had been rising and the sea getting 
 rougher for some time, and she had stopped 
 her self-examination frequently to wonder if 
 she had not better go to her cabin. At this 
 point she felt sure of it, and for the rest of her 
 journey she was so unhappy physically that 
 her other troubles seemed unimportant. One 
 little incident was very consoling. As she lay 
 down in her berth, she was conscious of a de- 
 
i8o The Things that Count 
 
 licious aromatic odour. She lifted her pillow, 
 as it seemed to come from under it, and dis- 
 covered a big silk handkerchief tied into a bag 
 and filled with pine needles. She remem- 
 bered expressing her regret to Richard that 
 there were none of the aromatic kind at Che- 
 nook. He had probably got them for her 
 from some distance, which explained a long 
 absence of the day before. It was a character- 
 istic present. Richard never did the stereo- 
 typed thing. It was very comforting. At 
 her first comparatively well moment it oc- 
 curred to her to put her fingers inside, and, to 
 her delight, she found a scrap of paper. On 
 this was written: " You do not know how I 
 have loved you, and you never will now. You 
 will always be a little different to me from 
 other women, no matter what the future has 
 in store for either of us. If you ever have 
 need of me, I will do anything in a man's 
 power for you. Never forget that. Richard. 
 " He will do anything for me except marry 
 me," Evelyn said to herself regretfully. And 
 yet this note made her happy; at least, as 
 happy as a woman can be who is in the agonies 
 of acute seasickness, with the underlying con- 
 sciousness that she has been found out in a 
 course of deception by one of her best friends. 
 She was surprised that she could feel as happy 
 as she did under the circumstances. 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 LUCIA 
 
 IT was late in November before Evelyn re- 
 turned to New York. One snowy after- 
 noon, not long afterwards, she was riding 
 up-town in a Madison Avenue car, when her 
 attention was struck by a young girl sitting 
 directly opposite her. There had been a 
 block earlier in the afternoon, and the car was 
 the last of four or five in a string, so, for a 
 wonder, they were alone at their end of the 
 car. The girl was so pretty that Evelyn could 
 not take her eyes off her. She was sure that 
 she had not seen her before, but there was 
 something perplexingly familiar about her 
 face. It was only a minute before the solution 
 of the problem flashed across her. The girl 
 was a beautiful edition, an Edition de luxe, as it 
 were, of Dolly Van Horn. The family like- 
 ness was unmistakable; there was, besides, the 
 same beautiful hair. Before long Evelyn saw 
 181 
 
1 82 The Things that Count 
 
 that her companion was studying her appear- 
 ance with equal interest, though she turned her 
 eyes away every time that Evelyn's strayed in 
 her direction. At length their eyes met full, 
 and, leaning over, Evelyn said : 
 
 " I think you must be Lucia Van Horn." 
 
 1 Yes," returned the girl, with a sweet, half- 
 shy, half-friendly smile. Evelyn crossed the 
 car and sat down beside her. 
 
 " I knew you by your likeness to Dolly. I 
 am Evelyn Smith," she said. 
 
 "Oh!" exclaimed the girl in a tone of 
 pleased surprise. ' Dolly used to write so 
 much about you from Chenook." 
 
 " I suppose Dolly went to Europe with Mrs. 
 Perkins," Evelyn remarked next. 
 
 " No, she did n't. She did not like to leave 
 mother, who has not been at all well all the 
 autumn; and Uncle Twiller had been trying 
 for a long time to get her to leave Mrs. Per- 
 kins, and come to be his secretary, so she went 
 to him." 
 
 ' Mrs. Perkins must have felt badly." 
 
 " She did. She tried every way she could 
 to get Dolly to go with her. Dolly has never 
 wanted to go to Uncle Twiller, because she 
 was sure that it would be only play work ; that 
 he would pay her her salary and not give her 
 half enough to do ; but a couple of months ago 
 
Lucia 183 
 
 he had a slight stroke of paralysis in his right 
 arm, so he has to have some one to write his 
 letters now." 
 
 " She lives with the Twiller Van Horns ? " 
 Evelyn asked. 
 
 4 ' No ; she lives at home with Mother and me, 
 and goes there from nine until four. She is 
 making a catalogue of the Van Horn library, 
 and she gives Charlotte lessons every day 
 too." 
 
 " Dolly is the most conscientious mortal," 
 said Evelyn. " She is always so afraid of a 
 sinecure. She used to encourage Mrs. Perkins 
 in all her schemes because they kept her busy. 
 I have n't heard a word from any of the people 
 at Chenook since I left," she continued, " ex- 
 cept a half-page note from Mrs. Perkins, telling 
 me that she was going abroad with the Lorri- 
 mers. She said nothing about Dolly, but I 
 supposed that she was going too." 
 
 No; she did n't think that she would get 
 along well with the Lorrimers, even if she had 
 been willing to leave Mother." 
 
 "Do you ever see anything of Cyril?" 
 Evelyn asked. 
 
 ' Yes ; he came to see us several times be- 
 fore he went to Harvard, and he is coming to 
 take dinner with us on Christmas Day." 
 
 " I heard indirectly that he had passed his 
 
1 84 The Things that Count 
 
 examinations. How does he like it at Har- 
 vard ?" 
 
 " Very much. Dolly has had several letters 
 from him. Mr. Palmer went with him there 
 and introduced him to some of his Boston and 
 Cambridge friends. Dolly thinks that he is 
 coming out of himself. He has been taking 
 dancing lessons (he never would before), and 
 he lives in very good style. You see, he has 
 the reputation of being so very wealthy that 
 people are very nice to him when he will let 
 them be." 
 
 " And Mr. Palmer, where is he, and what is 
 he doing ? " asked Evelyn. 
 
 " Here in New York. He has gone into the 
 law office of a friend of his, a Mr. Hunt." 
 
 ;< Have you met him ? " Evelyn inquired. 
 
 " Yes. Is n't he nice ? " Lucia blushed a 
 little as she said this, as if ashamed of her girl- 
 ish enthusiasm. 
 
 "Is n't he!" Evelyn exclaimed respons- 
 ively. 
 
 " Mother likes him so much, and invites him 
 to dinner quite often ; and sometimes he drops 
 in to lunch on Sundays of his own accord. 
 He takes Dolly and me to things sometimes; 
 at least he did once." Lucia was charming. 
 
 " I get out in a minute," said Evelyn. ;< I 
 am so glad to know you at last. Dolly used 
 
Lucia 185 
 
 to tell me a great deal about you, but I find 
 that she did n't say half enough. How is 
 your sketching ? Are you still at the art 
 school ? " 
 
 ' Yes, I go there every morning. I 've just 
 begun again. Mother has n't been well enough 
 to have me away so long before." 
 
 "Give my love to Dolly, and tell her to come 
 and see me if she has time. I am staying with 
 the Mitchells, on East 68th Street, and I shall 
 be there some weeks longer. I '11 write the 
 number down for you. Good-by." 
 
 " There! That was a fortunate accident, a 
 very nice way to open negotiations," Evelyn 
 said to herself as she walked away from the 
 car. She wanted to think a little, so, as it 
 had stopped snowing, she walked down Madi- 
 son Avenue and around the block by way of 
 6/th Street. She knew that she would be 
 expected to talk the minute she entered 
 the house. It occurred to her that Lucia 
 would be sure to repeat their conversation, 
 and so Dolly would know, without any 
 appearance on her part of making explan- 
 ations, that she and Richard did not cor- 
 respond, and had seen nothing of each other 
 since that parting scene at Chenook. How 
 attractive Lucia was! There was something 
 so fresh and youthful about her, and her 
 
1 86 The Things that Count 
 
 face was so exquisitely lovely. Dolly had 
 always told her that Lucia was very pretty, 
 but hearsay beauty is never impressive. Lucia 
 was not at all like Dolly, as soon as one be- 
 came accustomed to the strong family resem- 
 blance. Dolly was plain bread and butter, 
 while Lucia was an etherealised concoction of 
 white-of-egg and sugar. Dolly brought to 
 mind the practical, the unromantic; Lucia's 
 whole appearance suggested poetry and rom- 
 ance. She seemed a different order of being 
 from her sensible, matter-of-fact sister, and 
 yet her smile showed Dolly's sweetness of dis- 
 position. " If Dolly were not so magnanimous, 
 so large-souled, it would be terrible for her to 
 have a younger sister like that. I don't think 
 I could be as fond of her as she is," Evelyn 
 said to herself. " Lucia will get everything 
 that Dolly has missed," she added. At this 
 suggestion, a thought darted into her mind 
 that made her feel cold all over. Would Lucia 
 get one particular thing that Dolly had missed ? 
 Why did Richard take the trouble to go to see 
 them ? Was it probable that a man with as 
 much to interest him as he always had would 
 care to go to see Dolly more than once ? And 
 if she herself had been so attracted to Lucia in 
 one short interview, was n't it likely that he 
 would be so in a much more intense degree ? 
 
Lucia 187 
 
 It came to her with the certainty of absolute 
 knowledge what the result would be, and her 
 conviction gave her pain beyond any that she 
 supposed it possible Richard could cause her. 
 His power to trouble her was inconceivably 
 great, considering the apparent slightness of 
 her feeling for him. 
 
 She had reached the house, and it was begin- 
 ning to snow again, so a due regard for her 
 hat sent her indoors, where her friend, Mrs. 
 Mitchell, who was confined to the house with 
 a cold, was impatiently waiting for her to come 
 in and amuse her. She had one more minute 
 of freedom while she put away her outdoor 
 things and changed her gown. She went to 
 her top drawer, took out the bag of pine 
 needles, and read for the hundredth time the 
 note that Palmer had written her, the only one 
 she had ever had from him. When she was 
 ready, she went down-stairs with the brightest 
 of smiles on her face, to make herself agreeable 
 to her hostess. 
 
 To Evelyn's surprise, the first delivery the 
 next morning brought her a note from Dolly, 
 a friendly little letter, saying that she would 
 come to see her in a few days. It was not so 
 impulsive, so overwhelmingly cordial as Dolly 
 herself; but perhaps her notes never were. So 
 many people have a different self on paper, 
 
1 88 The Things that Count 
 
 and Evelyn had never met Dolly's paper self 
 before. At all events, it showed no resent- 
 ment. She came to call two days later, and 
 her manner was perfectly friendly. The two 
 girls had no private conversation, as Mrs. 
 Mitchell was in the room all the time. Dolly 
 invited her to come to dinner the next night, 
 and Evelyn accepted gratefully. 
 
 Mrs. Van Horn, Dolly's mother, was a sweet, 
 unselfish woman, uncomplainingly ill of an in- 
 curable disease, which, however, gave her long 
 intervals of comparative health. She and 
 Lucia and Dolly made up the family, with 
 which Evelyn soon came to feel very much at 
 home. They lived in a comfortable little 
 apartment, not very far from the Mitchells', of 
 which, so Dolly told her, Uncle Twiller paid 
 the rent. 
 
 " We should be very poor if it were not for 
 his kindness," she explained. " And of course 
 we have to take it in the spirit in which it is 
 given, so long as mother needs it, though Lucia 
 and I would like to be entirely independent. 
 I can never see why a man, because he happens 
 to be rich, should support all his relatives. 
 They would have to get along some way, if 
 they did n't have him. Now Uncle Twiller 
 has about fifty relatives and connections to 
 whom he gives money regularly." 
 
Lucia 189 
 
 " But how is it that your uncle should be so 
 rich and your father leave so little ?" asked 
 Evelyn. 
 
 " My grandfather left them an equal amount, 
 but my father lost his in some speculations, 
 while Uncle Twiller has twenty times as much 
 now as he had originally. He is a very good 
 business man. He was so hurt at my wanting 
 him to stop mother's allowance when I first 
 went to Mrs. Perkins that I have never dared 
 suggest it since. He gives Lucia and me each 
 a hundred dollars every Christmas besides. 
 Aunt Charlotte used to be always giving us 
 things, but I won't let her any more," she con- 
 tinued. " I hate a relation of that kind. I 
 could n't be natural under it; and I was always 
 so afraid of seeming to be hinting, that I went 
 to the other extreme. I used to wear out my 
 best clothes by putting them on whenever I 
 went to their house, so that I should n't seem 
 to be holding up my shabbiness for them to 
 see. It was, as I told Aunt Charlotte, that I 
 wanted to feel free to make remarks as to 
 whether my gloves would stand another clean- 
 ing, or as to the economy of making a gown 
 over, without feeling as if I had made a break. 
 If the thing I needed came a few days later, I 
 felt uncomfortable; and if it did n't, I felt still 
 more so, because I thought they thought I 
 
190 The Things that Count 
 
 had been hinting, and were determined not to 
 notice it." Dolly was perfectly innocent, but 
 this conversation made Evelyn feel uncomfort- 
 able. She was too unpleasantly conscious her- 
 self of similar relations in her own life, in which 
 the propriety of receiving was not so well es- 
 tablished, and in which she had not always 
 been particular about concealing her wants. 
 
 Transparent as Dolly usually was, Evelyn 
 could not succeed, by indirect methods, in 
 fathoming her state of mind about what had 
 happened at Chenook. It was a significant 
 fact that she seldom referred to her stay there 
 if she could help it, and never, by any chance, 
 to Richard. Evelyn would speak of him her- 
 self occasionally, to avoid the awkwardness of 
 a tabooed topic, but Dolly never followed up 
 the allusion. Lucia and Mrs. Van Horn 
 spoke of him quite freely, however, and it was 
 through them that Evelyn knew that he still 
 came to the house occasionally, though she 
 had never happened to meet him there. It 
 was never suggested that she should meet him 
 there. 
 
 Lucia, as she knew her better, seemed to her 
 even more attractive than she had done at first. 
 She had all Dolly's virtues and none of her de- 
 ficiencies. With every disposition to find her 
 wanting, the only criticism that Evelyn could 
 
Lucia 191 
 
 make of her was that she was very young, and 
 doubtless, in a man's eyes for she could not 
 help looking at her from the point of view of 
 one particular man this would not be a draw- 
 back. Lucia was comprehensively inexperi- 
 enced, and had not discovered her own power 
 yet. She was romantic, and had ideals which 
 no mortal could live up to. She had been 
 brought up in an old-fashioned way (Mrs. Van 
 Horn reverenced the traditions of her genera- 
 tion about the education of young girls), and 
 had decided ideas of her own in old-fashioned 
 lines. She had been too shy to make intimate 
 friends at school, and had consequently kept 
 an innocence that one rarely sees nowadays. 
 Her comments on life and things were often 
 so naive and childish, formed so evidently from 
 the conventual standpoint, that Evelyn had 
 almost irresistible impulses to enlighten her a 
 little about the world she lived in. She resisted 
 these, for several reasons, one of which was that 
 Lucia was on confidential terms with her 
 mother, and she did not want to prejudice the 
 latter against herself. The most weighty, 
 however, was that she realised Lucia's princi- 
 pal drawback to be her spirituality (she seemed 
 more of the angelic than the feminine type), 
 and she did not care to make her any more 
 formidable than she already was by putting 
 
i9 2 The Things that Count 
 
 her in the way to cure this defect. Mrs. Van 
 Horn and Dolly evidently considered it an 
 additional charm in the child, as they called 
 her, but Evelyn was not of their opinion. She 
 liked warm, earthy, human things, and hated 
 the superstition that considered it a virtue to 
 live in this world and not be of it. Ignorance 
 of the fundamental facts of life was a disad- 
 vantage in her eyes. One reason why she 
 especially disliked it was that it kept men and 
 women apart, while she believed that the more 
 men and women had in common the more in- 
 teresting their relations became, in that there 
 were so many more meeting-points. She 
 wanted to know life, and men's lives in par- 
 ticular, thoroughly well, to understand their 
 temptations, and to form her convictions, her 
 principles, as they would be called, in accord- 
 ance with such knowledge; on facts, not on 
 superstitions and the one-sided presentations of 
 old maids' novels. A woman could be much 
 more of an influence for good in a man's life 
 if she knew something about that life. 
 
 Now a real friendship with Lucia Van Horn 
 would be impossible for a man. " And they 
 think it a gain that she should be at such a 
 disadvantage," Evelyn often said to herself, 
 referring to Dolly and her mother. What did 
 she gain by it ? Purity ? Lucia would always 
 
Lucia 193 
 
 be pure. All the knowledge on earth could not 
 make her anything else but pure-minded. 
 That was a quality that was inborn. No 
 amount of knowledge could alter it, nor any 
 amount of ignorance either. If a girl were 
 harmed by knowing something of the world in 
 which she lived, it was her nature that was to 
 blame, not the knowledge. One would n't 
 want the purity of a mind that had never been 
 exposed to temptation, but of one for which 
 uncleanness had no attraction. 
 
 If Mrs. Van Horn and Dolly had been French, 
 and had been bringing Lucia up so that the 
 interesting experience of enlightening her 
 ignorance should be an additional bait to the 
 jaded taste of a man on whom demi-mond- 
 aine omniscience had palled, Evelyn could 
 have understood it better. But no; their 
 method was based solely on the tradition 
 that it became young girls to be innocent. 
 Mrs. Van Horn had been innocent herself 
 when she married Peter Van Horn, a dissipated 
 scapegrace, with nothing to recommend him 
 but a handsome face and a distinguished family 
 connection. Her married life had been a pain- 
 ful adjusting of impossible ideals to hideous 
 facts ; and yet she was ready to lead her 
 daughter blindfold to the same precipice over 
 which she had fallen. Now that she knew 
 
194 The Things that Count 
 
 Mrs. Van Horn, Evelyn understood better a 
 certain rigidity in Dolly in regard to what was 
 becoming for a woman to do or say ; but Dolly 
 had been to college and, to a certain extent, 
 out in the world before Evelyn had known 
 her, while Lucia was still in her mother's 
 hands. Besides, Dolly had a practical, observ- 
 ing nature that would gather information for 
 itself, while Lucia was visionary, and learned 
 only what was directly brought to her know- 
 ledge. Her reading, even now that she was 
 nearly twenty, was strictly supervised by her 
 mother. She was not allowed to read the 
 newspapers. 
 
 It was a comfort to Evelyn, as the acquaint- 
 ance progressed, to find that Lucia bored her a 
 little. With all her cleverness, and she had a 
 good deal of it, to talk to her was like talking 
 to a child, wearisome for any length of time. 
 It was a strain to expurgate her conversation 
 of all allusions to the unpleasant truths which 
 she had learned about her fellow-creatures in 
 her journey through the world ; to lay aside all 
 the compromises which she had been forced to 
 make between the way things are and the way 
 they ought to be ; and to acquiesce in appear- 
 ance to Lucia's ideal standards of morality and 
 propriety. It was hard to sit still and keep 
 her opinion to herself while Lucia condemned 
 
Lucia 195 
 
 (she was a young woman of decided ideas), in 
 all ignorance to be sure, some practice of Eve- 
 lyn's own, as something that no nice girl would 
 dream of doing, while, all the time, Evelyn felt 
 that her own doing it was not degeneracy, but 
 progress: a laying aside of a tradition that had 
 only conventionality to uphold it. And yet 
 at the same time Evelyn could not help ac- 
 knowledging that this ignorance, which she 
 now objected to so decidedly, might have a 
 certain fascination for her if she had been a 
 man. It would be an interesting process to 
 initiate her slowly (it would have to be done 
 very slowly with a girl as spiritually minded as 
 Lucia), slowly and in all honour, into a know- 
 ledge of all that was now such an impenetrable 
 mystery to her, or else so entirely undreamed 
 of in her philosophy. She wondered constantly 
 how it affected Richard, and longed for a chance 
 to ask him. 
 
 This temptation to enlighten Lucia a little 
 when she was airing her opinions of life and its 
 complexities came frequently to Evelyn, but 
 it never occurred to her that she should yield 
 to it. Nevertheless, that was just the thing 
 she did do. 
 
 In the early part of February, she went to the 
 Van Horns' to stay a week. She had finished 
 her visit to the Mitchells', and was about to 
 
196 The Things that Count 
 
 spend ten days with her mother in Jersey City 
 before going down South to some other friends, 
 in order to have some uninterrupted time to 
 sew on the thin clothes that she would need in 
 the warmer climate. The Van Horn girls per- 
 suaded her to come to them for a week instead, 
 which she was very glad to do, intending still 
 to spend the last few days with her mother. 
 
 Lucia came home from the art school at one 
 every day, and after that she would help 
 Evelyn with her sewing, being much more 
 efficient with her needle than Dolly. Gener- 
 ally, they would take their work into the par- 
 lour where Mrs. Van Horn sat; but on Friday 
 afternoon Evelyn had some cutting-out for 
 which the bed was convenient, and Mrs. Van 
 Horn was comfortably established on the sofa 
 with the Ladies Home Journal (her favourite 
 reading), so they stayed in Evelyn's room. It 
 was snowing hard, in great white flakes that 
 gave a sense of seclusion and freedom from 
 interruption. 
 
 They talked steadily as they sewed, and, 
 after a little, the talk drifted to the mutual 
 attitude of husbands and wives. Lucia laid 
 down the law as to what constituted an ideal 
 relation, and as to their mutual duties and 
 privileges towards each other, sketching a plan 
 which she had evolved as to her treatment of 
 
Lucia 197 
 
 her own husband, if she ever had one. It was 
 all so ridiculously inadequate, and Lucia's air 
 of knowing it all was so irritating, that before 
 she knew it Evelyn was giving her a few facts, 
 and Lucia was listening with flushed cheeks, 
 too intensely interested to break away from 
 what was evidently causing her to shrink in- 
 wardly. They talked for two hours, Lucia 
 asking no questions, but making no protest. 
 It was Evelyn who did most of the talking, 
 Lucia only making an occasional insignificant 
 comment. At last Mrs. Van Horn called her, 
 and Evelyn was left to think it over. 
 
 To her surprise, she had a sense of guilt, 
 such as she used to feel in her childhood when 
 she read books that she was not expected to 
 read. She argued with herself that she had 
 only followed out her convictions; that, since 
 she disapproved of such ignora'nce, it was her 
 duty to enlighten it ; but her arguments had no 
 effect, because she had to admit that it had not 
 been conviction that had led her into it on this 
 occasion, but simply irritation, the fascination 
 of the subject and of witnessing its effect on a 
 mind as unsophisticated as Lucia's. She felt 
 unrefined and thoroughly ashamed of herself, 
 and would have done anything to undo her 
 afternoon's work if there had been anything to 
 do. She felt that she had broken the laws of 
 
198 The Things that Count 
 
 hospitality, and had taken advantage of Mrs. 
 Van Horn's confidence. The worst of all 
 was the dread of Lucia's judgment of her. 
 She knew instinctively how severe it would be. 
 Then she had the additional fear of her giving 
 some hint of her revelations (she would never 
 speak of them openly) to her mother. 
 
 When they met later, neither she nor Lucia 
 looked at each other. Evelyn felt thoroughly 
 uncomfortable, and was glad that she was to 
 go on Sunday. Lucia avoided her carefully 
 for the rest of the visit, inventing every pos- 
 sible excuse to keep herself from being left 
 alone with her. 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 EVELYN GOES HOME 
 
 EVELYN was to go early Sunday after- 
 noon. She had been going on Saturday, 
 but Mrs. Twiller Van Horn had invited her 
 and Dolly to dinner Saturday night, so she 
 stayed over for that. Palmer had been invited 
 also, but he had sent an excuse. Evelyn won- 
 dered very much if it were genuine. She was 
 thinking of this thing Sunday morning as she 
 sat with Dolly in the parlour. Lucia had been 
 sent to church, and Mrs. Van Horn had not 
 yet left her room. Dolly had started several 
 subjects, but, seeing that Evelyn was indis- 
 posed to talk, she considerately left her to her 
 pretence of reading, and began a letter to one 
 of her numerous college friends. 
 
 At about half-past twelve, the door-bell rang, 
 
 and the servant ushered in Palmer. He greeted 
 
 Dolly, and then turned towards Evelyn and held 
 
 out his hand, almost as if he had seen her the 
 
 199 
 
200 The Things that Count 
 
 day before. She comforted herself with the 
 thought that, while her own heart was dancing a 
 jig, nobody would have suspected it from her 
 manner, which showed just the proper degree of 
 pleased surprise at his appearance. Both she 
 and Richard were perfectly at ease, but Dolly 
 was a little constrained, and the conversation 
 languished. Evelyn suspected that she was 
 casting around for an excuse to leave the room ; 
 and although she would have liked it of all 
 things in reality, she disliked the made-to- 
 order effect that it would have so much that 
 she prevented it by saying to Richard : 
 
 " I wish I had known that you were coming, 
 for I have still my last packing to do. I have 
 to go directly after lunch." 
 
 I don't see why you are in such a tearing 
 hurry to get home," Dolly protested. 
 
 " But, you see, you don't know all that I 
 have to do between now and Wednesday. I 
 have to overhaul my last summer's things to- 
 night. I have a closet and two trunks full of 
 possessions in Jersey City, besides the trunk 
 that I sent over yesterday." 
 
 " What is going to happen on Wednesday ? " 
 Richard asked. 
 
 ;< I am going South. That is all." 
 ' You are not going to be married then ? " 
 
 " Not on this particular Wednesday, not 
 
Evelyn Goes Home 201 
 
 that I know of yet, that is. Well, I '11 leave 
 you to Dolly. Perhaps I '11 have finished be- 
 fore you go." 
 
 " Mr. Palmer is going to stay to lunch," 
 said Dolly. 
 
 ''I '11 see you and your traps off on your 
 journey," he remarked. 
 
 " I wish you would. There is nothing I 
 hate more than the eternal lugging of things 
 that I have to do. My belongings are never 
 all in one place." 
 
 In a few minutes Evelyn heard Lucia come 
 in, and after that there was an eager buzz of 
 conversation from the parlour, mingled with a 
 great deal of laughter. Evelyn felt an un- 
 reasoning sense of exclusion, but she perversely 
 made her packing last as long as she could. 
 It was disheartening that each of the three 
 people in the other room should be decidedly 
 out of sympathy with her. Dolly was friendly 
 enough, but there was a distinct difference 
 from the old Chenook days. She avoided 
 confidences, and was as anxious to keep out of 
 discussions of Evelyn's self as she had formerly 
 been to seek them. Lucia was unmistakably 
 down on her, and Richard had apparently very 
 little use for her. He had let it out incident- 
 ally that he had known of her presence at the 
 little flat on this and several other occasions, 
 
202 The Things that Count 
 
 and he had made no pretence of having come 
 to see her on this particular one. Indeed, he 
 had asked for Lucia before he had been in the 
 room five minutes. 
 
 Lucia was very gay at luncheon, and Palmer 
 seemed much absorbed in her. Evelyn talked 
 with Mrs. Van Horn out of her long training 
 in making herself agreeable, whatever she 
 might be feeling. Immediately after lunch, 
 she went from the room, and came back into 
 the parlour with her wraps on. She left her 
 umbrella and bag in the hall, so that they might 
 not seem like a reminder to Palmer. When 
 he rose to accompany her, she protested : 
 
 "Oh, don't come," she said in a cordial 
 tone, in which no one could have detected the 
 slightest trace of pique. " I don't want to 
 take you away when you and Lucia are having 
 such a good time." 
 
 " I can come again," he returned, shaking 
 hands with Mrs. Van Horn. 
 
 !< Did n't you really want me to come ? " he 
 asked, when they were in the street together, 
 dropping all the distance out of his voice. 
 
 " In one sense, I did n't. It seemed so 
 ridiculous for you to come away just to carry 
 my bag to the corner." 
 
 " But I am going all the way with you." 
 
 " Not to Jersey City ?" 
 
Evelyn Goes Home 203 
 
 "Why not? What is the matter ? Do you 
 realise that it is six months since we have seen 
 each other, and that it may be more before we 
 see each other again ? Are you afraid this 
 indulgence will be bad for me ? " 
 
 " Good heavens, no ! " Evelyn laughed 
 aloud. 
 
 ' The idea seems to amuse you," he re- 
 turned as he signalled for a car. 
 
 ' It is very amusing," she answered, when 
 they were seated in the car. ' You must 
 think that I am terribly unsophisticated." 
 
 " No, I never thought that," he protested 
 with mock earnestness. 
 
 " I have known a man or two before you in 
 my life." 
 
 " So I should have supposed." 
 
 " I call that impertinent." 
 
 It is simply light-heartedness. After all, 
 why should n't we see each other occasionally 
 at the Van Horns' ? " 
 
 I am never going to that house again," 
 Evelyn remarked decidedly. Richard looked 
 at her in amazement before he said : 
 
 " May I ask why not ? " 
 
 " Oh, just because." 
 Because why ? " 
 
 " Because they are too good for me, if you 
 will have the truth. Because their incessant 
 
204 The Things that Count 
 
 virtue tires me to death. They are too maid- 
 enly and dutiful, and too unselfish, and too well 
 regulated, and too everlastingly impressed with 
 the moral consequence of everything they do 
 or say. They never lose sight of the ought or 
 ought not in things for one second. I wish 
 they would do something once in a while with- 
 out stopping to think about it. Oh, for some 
 really wicked people ! They make me want to 
 do something desperate: ' spit, and break a 
 chair, and say damn ! ' for instance. Don't look 
 so astonished. That vulgarism is n't my own. 
 I thought everyone knew it. It is the theo- 
 logical student's idea of a spree. I was hop- 
 ing that you would think me vulgar. I want 
 to be vulgar. I am tired of refinement." 
 
 " You had better speak a little lower. That 
 sporty chap opposite is 'trying hard to hear 
 what you are saying," he protested in an 
 undertone. 
 
 " I don't care this afternoon. I 'd just as 
 soon talk at the top of my lungs for the benefit 
 of the whole car. Lucia never speaks above a 
 whisper in a public conveyance." 
 
 ' The antipathy does n't seem mutual," 
 Richard remarked, evidently much amused, 
 and not inclined to take up the defence of 
 their friends. " They seemed very sorry to 
 lose you." 
 
Evelyn Goes Home 205 
 
 " That is just their accursed sense of duty 
 to a guest. They 'd be cordial to the devil 
 under their own roof. No, Dolly and I got 
 along very well at Chenook, where she was 
 away from the family atmosphere ; but we don't 
 here. We are out of sympathy, and we both 
 of us know it, though we try hard to hide it. 
 Of course, I am all wrong. I don't deny it for 
 a second; but, do you know, I 'd rather be 
 wrong with people like myself than right with 
 people like Mrs. Van Horn." 
 
 "Oh, the mother, too! " said Richard, laugh- 
 ing. 
 
 " She 's the worst of the three, with her 
 everlasting conscience. She begins in the 
 morning: ' Girls, don't you think you ought 
 to call on Mrs. Jones this afternoon?' or: 
 4 One of you must go to church this morning,' 
 if it happens to be Sunday; and so on till after 
 she is in bed at night. They all do such mill- 
 ions of things that they don't want to do, and 
 for which nobody is the better, from an over- 
 grown sense of duty. Why, the mere fact 
 that one wants to do a thing condemns it be- 
 forehand with Mrs. Van Horn, and the fact 
 that you don't want to makes it seem the only 
 thing to do. The poor benighted creatures! 
 They are so stupidly old-fashioned in their 
 way of looking at things that I am sorry for 
 
206 The Things that Count 
 
 them. And they are so serenely satisfied that 
 they are right, so complacently virtuous, so 
 calmly superior, that I want to slap them," 
 she ended up in undignified fashion. Richard 
 laughed heartily at her anticlimax. 
 
 " It does me good to hear you talk," he 
 said, smiling at her. "It is so long since I 
 have heard the sound of your voice! " 
 
 Evelyn began again on the Van Horns when 
 they were on the ferryboat. Evidently, she 
 was full of her subject. 
 
 " And Mrs. Van Horn's point of view is so 
 out of focus. She is always making a fuss about 
 chaperons, and escorts, and social forms that 
 are out of" place when girls are earning their 
 own living. She actually believes that people 
 notice them, and the way they do or don't do 
 things, and expect them to keep up to certain 
 standards. But the thing that annoyed me 
 most it is a little thing, but it made me as 
 angry as if it had been a state affair was this : 
 I spoke of something that I should do if I were 
 married (it was nothing of any consequence), 
 and Mrs. Van Horn said : ' If your husband 
 will allow you to, my dear. Husbands don't 
 usually allow their wives to do thus and so, and 
 so on.' The idea of there being a question of 
 allowing between me and any man, and of her 
 being so stupid that she could n't realise it ! " 
 
Evelyn Goes Home 207 
 
 "What did you say to that?" Richard 
 asked with interest. 
 
 " I did n't say anything. What was the 
 use ? She could n't understand my resent- 
 ment, or see it as I do, if I talked forever." 
 
 " Come," Richard began authoritatively. 
 " Don't let 's talk about the Van Horns any 
 more when we have so little time left. This is 
 the first time that I ever saw you really out of 
 temper, and I don't know what to make of it. 
 Why, you are positively vindictive to those 
 poor people. All that you say is perfectly 
 true, I have been conscious of it without put- 
 ting it into words myself; but you need not 
 hate them for it." 
 
 ;< I know that I 'm horrid," Evelyn returned 
 penitently. " I ought to be ashamed of my- 
 self, especially when I 've just been eating their 
 bread and butter. Don't think that I 'm bad- 
 tempered really, and have been hiding it from 
 you. I 'm not at all; but they have been dis- 
 approving of me, and it always upsets me not 
 to have my world in sympathy with me. 
 Among other things, Mrs. Van Horn took it 
 upon herself yesterday to give me a talking to 
 (she felt it was her duty !) about not living with 
 my mother and Clara. She said she was a 
 mother herself, and had a mother's feelings, 
 and knew how she should feel if Dolly deserted 
 
208 The Things that Count 
 
 her for finer friends, and how grateful she 
 would feel to anyone who spoke a word to lead 
 her back to her. I let her talk, and never dis- 
 puted a word. That is all. I swear off on the 
 Van Horns for the rest of the trip." 
 
 ' We 're nearly there now," Richard com- 
 plained. " You 've wasted so much precious 
 time! " 
 
 ' You can put me in the car when we get 
 there," said Evelyn, taking no notice of the 
 last part of his speech. 
 
 " Are n't you going to take me home with 
 you, and introduce me to your family ? " he 
 demanded boldly. Evelyn hesitated. 
 
 " I have never taken a friend to my home in 
 my life," she said at length. " But I don't in 
 the least mind taking you. Indeed, I was 
 thinking of it a little while ago. I should like 
 you to see my home. One thing, they will 
 probably think you are my best young man ; 
 it would be such an unheard-of occurrence; 
 but we can live it down." 
 
 !< Don't you want to walk ? It will take 
 longer," Richard suggested, as they got off 
 the boat. 
 
 " Yes, I do. I 've been sitting still all day. 
 My bag is n't too heavy ? There 's not much 
 in it." 
 
 " It does n't weigh anything. Well, this is 
 
Evelyn Goes Home 209 
 
 attractive! " he continued, looking at the long, 
 uninteresting street that stretched out in front 
 of them, lined with store-houses and grain- 
 elevators. 
 
 " Have you been here before ? " asked 
 Evelyn. 
 
 " Never, except through it on the train." 
 
 " It 's pretty bad, but not so bad as it ap- 
 pears from that. Pavonia Avenue is n't attract- 
 ive, I admit." 
 
 There had been some wind in New York, 
 but over here it was blowing an icy gale 
 directly out of the west, straight in their faces, 
 charged with the dust of travel from the top of 
 the frozen road. 
 
 ' This is too cold for you. We '11 take the 
 car," said Richard. 
 
 Not on my account. I don't mind it. 
 Indeed, it will do me good. Probably a great 
 part of my mood to-day is the result of sitting 
 sewing all the week. Wheugh! This wind is 
 cold! 
 
 Did you ever see anything more dismal ? " 
 Evelyn asked, a few minutes later, motioning 
 to the line of one-story saloons and eating- 
 houses with pies and doughnuts in their win- 
 dows to the right of the road. 
 
 It depends on how expensive a hunger and 
 thirst one has. Mine comes rather high, I 
 
210 The Things that Count 
 
 regret to say," he replied. ' But come, you 
 have n't told me a single thing about yourself, ' ' 
 he broke off. ' Whom are you going South 
 with, and how long are you going to stay ? " 
 
 " Two months probably. I am going to be 
 with the Armitages. You remember I went to 
 them when I left Chenook." 
 
 ' Who are going to be of the party ? " 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Armitage and the two girls, 
 Katharine and Grace, their brother Paul and 
 their cousin, the man I told you about." 
 
 " Oh! How did you and he hit it off to- 
 gether last fall ?" 
 
 " Very well indeed. I have seen consider- 
 able of him this winter, too." 
 
 " You are encouraging him ? " 
 
 " I am not discouraging him." He stopped 
 short on the railroad track, which they were 
 that minute crossing, and exclaimed: 
 
 " You are not seriously thinking of marrying 
 Percy Armitage ? " 
 
 " The gates are coming down ! Do you 
 want to get shut in with a loose train ? " ex- 
 claimed Evelyn, moving quickly to the other 
 side. " It seems to me that I might do 
 worse," she replied, when they were safely 
 across. 
 
 " Oh, undoubtedly; but you might do 
 better." 
 
Evelyn Goes Home 211 
 
 " You know him ? " she asked in surprise. 
 She had been so absorbed in the coming train 
 that she had not understood the implication of 
 his previous words. 
 
 " Yes; I have known him a long time." 
 
 " Why did n't you tell me ? Where did you 
 know him ? " 
 
 " I was in the same class at Harvard with his 
 brother Stanley. We were friends, and I went 
 home with him once." 
 
 " I have always heard of him," said Evelyn. 
 " The girls say he was the most attractive 
 young fellow. Percy was devoted to him, and 
 has never quite got over his death." 
 
 11 He was as nice a fellow as I ever knew," 
 Richard responded. ' His death was a great 
 blow to many people. I saw a good deal of 
 Armitage at the time it happened." 
 
 " And don't you like him ? Don't you 
 think that he was all that I said he was ? " 
 
 " All and more; but " 
 
 " But you cannot forgive him for being such 
 an old maid ? Neither can I," Evelyn con- 
 fessed honestly. 
 
 "And yet you are letting this thing go on ? " 
 
 "Not very hard. To tell the truth, I do not 
 think that he will ever care much unless I make 
 him, and that is what I cannot bring myself to 
 do." 
 
212 The Things that Count 
 
 "Thank heaven for that!" Richard ex- 
 claimed fervently. 
 
 " Why did n't you tell me that you knew 
 him when I told you about him that day at 
 Chenook ? " Evelyn persisted. 
 
 " Oh, /was cross that day. Besides, know- 
 ing the man, I knew that you did n't seriously 
 think of him, but were just trying to excite me 
 a little ; and it seemed a more satisfactory re- 
 venge not to take the wind out of your sails. I 
 enjoyed my own magnanimity. Evelyn, my 
 dear girl, if you could only learn the beauty of 
 being absolutely straightforward, without any 
 manoeuvres or wiles. I don't set up for a pat- 
 tern in any way ; but, just as a convenient in- 
 stance, what would you think if I worked Dolly, 
 or any other girl, for your benefit ? Would n't 
 it make you think less of me if I did? " 
 
 " I can't imagine it," Evelyn answered 
 slowly. " I should feel as if the bottom had 
 dropped out of everything if I found you out 
 in anything of the kind. That is the worst of 
 it, in one sense: if I see you playing with a 
 girl, I can't console myself with the thought 
 that it is all put on for my benefit." 
 
 "And should you care?" Richard asked 
 earnestly. 
 
 " Of course. I 'm only human, after all. 
 Can you imagine a girl like me not caring ? " 
 
Evelyn Goes Home 213 
 
 " Oh, to be sure," he replied, in a disap- 
 pointed tone, making a dive for his hat, which 
 the wind was trying to remove from his head. 
 Evelyn was walking with difficulty, she was so 
 tangled up in her petticoats. 
 
 " I won't do it any more with you," she said 
 repentantly a moment later, when she had 
 gathered herself together from the gust and 
 had pushed the hair back out of her eyes. " I 
 have always been sorry afterwards when I 
 have n't been perfectly honest with you, espe- 
 cially as I always suspect you of seeing through 
 me," she added with a laugh. 
 
 ' You speak as if there were going to be fre- 
 quent any mores in our lives," he remarked. 
 Evelyn sighed. 
 
 " I forgot," she said sadly. Richard opened 
 his mouth as if to speak, but closed it again 
 without saying anything. 
 
 They had come to the place where the long, 
 monotonous street which they had been tra- 
 versing gave upon a square planted with frozen 
 grass and leafless trees. 
 
 " Come," she said, leading the way across 
 it. " Courage for one last effort. We live 
 only half a block from the other side." 
 
 " If there were only a bench here, we might 
 sit down a little, ' ' Richard suggested. ' ' What 
 do you suppose they have done with them ? 
 
214 The Things that Count 
 
 Are they afraid the Jersey Citizens will chop 
 them up for furnace wood, or don't they have 
 any here ? " 
 
 " I really don't remember; but we could n't 
 sit down here to-day, anyway, you practical 
 person. They 'd run us into the morgue in 
 ten minutes." 
 
 " True," he answered absently. 
 
 She led the way to the fourth of a row of 
 brick houses with narrow wrought-iron bal- 
 conies of an elaborate pattern across their 
 fronts. Palmer followed her in silence up the 
 steps. A large woman with a yellow skin and 
 much-frizzled hair opened the door for them. 
 
 How do you do, Mrs. Pinkerton ? " said 
 Evelyn, in the cordial tone that won her 
 friends wherever she went. 
 
 " Well, how d' do, Miss Smith. It 's a long 
 time since we 've seen yer in these parts. Cold 
 day, ain't it ? Yes, your ma 's at home. 
 Clara, she 's gone out with Charley Strong. 
 Yer ain't seen him yet, have yer ? He 's 
 her latest. Go right up. She 's expecting 
 yer." 
 
 " Come on up, Mr. Palmer," said Evelyn, 
 leading the way up a dark flight of narrow 
 stairs, tolerably clean, so far as they could see, 
 but saturated with the odour of vegetable soup. 
 She did not speak again, except to give him 
 
Evelyn Goes Home 215 
 
 warning about certain irregular steps. At the 
 second floor, she knocked at the door of the 
 front room and entered in response to an invi- 
 tation from within. 
 
 " Well, Mother, here I am! " she said cheer- 
 fully, as she opened the door. Two women 
 were seated near the middle of the room. One 
 was large and tired-looking, with a face that 
 would have been pleasant if it had not looked 
 so sad. She looked at Evelyn and her com- 
 panion in an uninterested fashion. The other 
 was a thin, vivacious little woman, with bright 
 brown eyes and a nervous, excitable manner. 
 
 " Well, Evelyn," said the latter. " Come 
 in." 
 
 " Mother, this is Mr. Palmer," said Evelyn. 
 
 14 I 'm pleased to make your acquaintance, 
 Mr. Palmer. Come in, won't you ? You '11 
 have to excuse me for a minute. I 've just a 
 word more to say to Mrs. Thomas," she con- 
 tinued, after she had introduced them to her 
 companion. ;< Now, you take my advice," she 
 said to that lady, without wasting any more 
 time in ceremony, " and you '11 find it '11 all 
 come right. A little harmless amusement will 
 do you a lot of good. I '11 give you two 
 tickets to my next reading, at the Presby- 
 terian church next Friday evening. It 's going 
 to be a really superior entertainment. Miss 
 
216 The Things that Count 
 
 Harris is going to sing and Mr. Strong is going 
 to play the cornet. The tickets are fifty cents 
 each, but I '11 let you have yours for twenty- 
 five. You need n't be in any hurry about pay- 
 ing me, either. By the way, do you know, I 
 think your Carrie has some talent in my line. 
 I know the face. I can never be mistaken in 
 it. And when a person 's a born elocutionist 
 you can't fool me, and you can't make me 
 think a person 's an elocutionist who is n't one ; 
 not if they do have parlours in New York, and 
 charge a dollar an hour. I won't mention any 
 names, but probably you can guess who I 'm 
 referring to. Now, I never think of asking 
 more than fifty cents, and I always give over- 
 time; and yet I have had things said to me 
 that would astonish you. You remember old 
 Mr. Baxter ? You never knew him ? Well, 
 you surprise me. I thought you came into 
 the church before he left. Well, he used to 
 say to me : ' Mrs. Smith, I think you are wast- 
 ing your time and talents in Jersey City.' If 
 he said it to me once, he said it a dozen times. 
 Must you go ? I 'm so glad you dropped in! 
 Come again. Think of what I said about 
 Carrie." She went out into the hall, and whis- 
 pered to her companion at the head of the 
 stairs for several minutes. 
 
 Richard had glanced around the room during 
 
Evelyn Goes Home 217 
 
 this monologue, then he had glanced at Eve- 
 lyn's face; but it was absolutely expression- 
 less, so he looked back at the room again. 
 It was a large room, with an alcove the size 
 of a hall bedroom at one side. The curtains 
 in front of this, of red chenille, were only 
 partly drawn, and within could be seen an 
 unmade bed and a chair covered with articles 
 of clothing. The main part of the room was 
 crowded with furniture, all very much in need 
 of dusting; but, although there were many 
 chairs, every one of them was decorated with 
 some article of feminine wearing apparel. A 
 black skirt was on the back of Evelyn's chair, 
 and from under the sofa on which he was 
 sitting projected a much-worn slipper and a 
 rubber overshoe. On one table was a pile 
 of unwashed dishes; on another was a sooty, 
 greasy coal-oil stove, which gave out a strong 
 odour. The wash-stand, which was recessed 
 in the wall, was piled high with sooty pots 
 and pans. A loaf of stale bread, a piece 
 of butter on a wooden plate, two doughnuts, 
 and half a lemon pie were on the mantelpiece, 
 together with a pile of paper books. The 
 bureau, which was covered with a dirty blue 
 silk scarf, was strewn with unsightly toilet arti- 
 cles, including a comb from which the hair had 
 not been removed. By the side of this was a 
 
218 The Things that Count 
 
 waste-basket, around which, for the radius of a 
 foot, were scattered crumbs, scraps of paper, 
 and burnt matches. A banana skin straddled 
 the edge of the basket itself. Richard did not 
 look at Evelyn after this last survey, and she 
 did not look at him. Presently Mrs. Smith 
 returned. 
 
 " The poor creature! " she said airily, evid- 
 ently much more interested in her late visitor 
 than in her daughter and her daughter's friend. 
 " She makes so much trouble for herself by 
 taking her life so hard ! I tell her to take ex- 
 ample by me. When she gets blue, she should 
 go out and amuse herself, as 1 do, instead of 
 moping in the house over a cooking-stove. I 
 advise her to join some clubs and classes 
 take up some committee work." 
 
 " My mother is one of the happiest women I 
 know. I do not think I have ever seen her 
 depressed," Evelyn said tranquilly, addressing 
 Richard for the first time. He could divine 
 nothing of her feelings from her voice. 
 
 " Oh, yes; it 's a matter of principle with 
 me to be cheerful. It 's just self-indulgence 
 to give way to your moods. Why, everybody 
 brings their troubles to me, to get cheered up. 
 When anything bothers you, throw it off. 
 Throw yourself into other people's troubles, 
 and then you '11 forget your own. I 'm sure 
 
Evelyn Goes Home 219 
 
 I 've had a plenty to be unhappy about, if I 'd 
 have let myself." 
 
 " Mrs. Pinkerton told me that Clara was 
 out," Evelyn remarked. 
 
 " Yes, she 's gone to walk with Mr. Strong. 
 She goes out with him every Sunday after- 
 noon." 
 
 " Who is he ? " asked Evelyn. 
 4 To think of your not knowing ! Why, 
 you surely remember Charley Strong, who used 
 to be in my Bible class, and who plays the 
 cornet in church ? " 
 
 " Oh, I remember. He used to be excess- 
 ively thin, with an enormously long neck." 
 
 " He 's much more fleshy than he used to 
 be. He has filled out wonderfully, and is very 
 good-looking. He 's starting out as a dentist, 
 and he 's doing fine. All the girls are wild 
 after him, but he has n't any use for them, ex- 
 cept Clara." 
 
 My sister is very pretty, ' ' Evelyn explained 
 to Richard, who was sitting there in a half- 
 dazed condition, feeling as if it were a dream. 
 Even Evelyn seemed different. He could not 
 project her in this strange setting. 
 
 ;< I hope that she will be in soon, before I 
 go," he managed to falter out. He had been 
 feeling that he ought at least to make one re- 
 mark, to show that he had not been stricken 
 
220 The Things that Count 
 
 suddenly dumb, but had not been able to think 
 of anything to say. 
 
 " She 's very bright and talkative; not quiet 
 like Evelyn ; and such a little flirt," Mrs. Smith 
 replied, addressing him for the first time. 
 " She '11 be in soon. Clara don't like the cold, 
 and she won't wear flannels, though I tell her 
 she 's crazy. If Mr. What did you say your 
 friend's name was, Evelyn ? 1 always ask right 
 out, if I don't catch the name," she explained 
 to Palmer, with a smile that was intended to be 
 winning. 
 
 " His name is Richard Palmer, Mother, and 
 he was Cyril Perkins's tutor last summer." 
 
 "Oh, in my own line!" Mrs. Smith ex- 
 claimed, in pleased surprise. " I teach elocu- 
 tion, as doubtless my daughter has told you." 
 
 " I heard you say something about a read- 
 ing," Palmer remarked. 
 
 ' Yes, at the church. I give them every 
 little while." 
 
 Have you made up your mind what you 
 are going to recite yet ? " Evelyn asked. 
 
 " Not yet. I always wait for an inspiration 
 It 's sure to come, though sometimes I have 
 gone to the church without any idea what I was 
 going to recite. I call them readings, but I gen- 
 erally recite, " Mrs. Smith went on to explain. 
 
 * How about that thing (I forget the name) 
 
Evelyn Goes Home 221 
 
 where the girl kills her little sister, and then 
 suffers remorse ; and the wind keeps shrieking, 
 'Bessie, O Bessie!' (the child's name was 
 Bessie) until she goes mad under it ? That 
 used to give me the horrors when I was a 
 child. I used to put my head under the 
 clothes on windy nights so that I should not 
 have to hear the wind cry around the corner, 
 ' Bessie, O Bessie! ' " 
 
 ' You always were a fanciful child. You 
 get your imagination from me, while Clara is 
 like her father: has n't a scrap. But that is an 
 old thing. I never recite that nowadays, ex- 
 cept by special request." 
 
 Loud voices and laughter were now heard on 
 the stairs and, the next moment, a blooming 
 young woman bounced into the room, followed 
 by a tall, thin young man. Palmer's first 
 thought was to wonder what the young man 
 must have been once if he was much stouter 
 than he used to be. The neck was still ab- 
 normally long: the more so that he did not 
 have an enormous amount of chin to hide it. 
 An exaggerated expanse of collar served only 
 to call attention to it. 
 
 ' The silly thing! He said he was afraid of 
 the dark, and made me hold his hand all the 
 way up," the young woman exclaimed, before 
 she caught sight of her visitors. 
 
222 The Things that Count 
 
 ' Here 's Evelyn, Clara," said her mother. 
 " Mr. Palmer, let me make you acquainted 
 with my daughter Clara, and with Mr. Strong." 
 Delighted to meet you, I 'm sure," the 
 young man with the neck remarked vaguely to 
 both Evelyn and Richard. 
 
 " Hello, Ev," said Clara. Richard noticed 
 that neither her mother nor her sister made 
 overtures to kiss Evelyn ; nor, for that matter, 
 did they seem at all interested in her. Evid- 
 ently their own affairs were of much more 
 consequence to them. " How do you do, Mr. 
 Palmer?" Clara continued easily. "Cold day, 
 is it not ? " 
 
 " It seemed so to me, and the paper says 
 that it is going to be colder to-night. A cold 
 wave is coming from the west." Richard 
 managed to get these words out. 
 
 " Well, it 's cold enough for me now. O 
 me, O my, but my fingers are froze! " 
 
 ' Where 's your muff ? " asked Evelyn. 
 
 " Oh, my muff 's so old-fashioned. Nobody 
 wears beaver now, and it swears at the chin- 
 chilla trimming on my dress," and Clara looked 
 with complacency at her Russian blouse of a 
 startling shade of violet velvet. She had 
 pulled her dirty white gloves off inside out and 
 was shaking the red fingers that came out of 
 them up and down to warm them. 
 
Evelyn Goes Home 223 
 
 " I offered to be a muff to her, but she 
 would n't let me," Mr. Strong remarked, with 
 a coquettish air. 
 
 " Because you were one already," Clara ex- 
 claimed, making a face at him. Both she and 
 her mother went off into shouts of laughter 
 over this retort. 
 
 (< She got you there, Charley, she got you 
 there!" Mrs. Smith exclaimed, wiping her 
 eyes with a handkerchief that Richard would 
 have suspected of having been used as a duster, 
 if the room had not given the lie to any such 
 thought. ' You '11 have to lie awake nights 
 to get ahead of Clara," she continued, with 
 another burst of laughter. " My children are 
 not stupid, though I do say it myself," she re- 
 marked, in an aside to Palmer. 
 
 At the first lull, he got up to go. He could 
 not stand any more of it. His heart ached for 
 Evelyn, and a new understanding of her came 
 to him. He could not divine her thoughts at 
 the present moment. She was apparently per- 
 fectly undisturbed by her surroundings, but so 
 quiet and self-contained that he could not 
 realise that she was the same person. 
 
 " Come again, Mr. Palmer, now that you 've 
 found the way," Mrs. Smith said effusively. 
 " If Evelyn is n't here, Clara and I '11 do the 
 best we can for you. We 're not the rose, 
 
224 The Things that Count 
 
 but, etc. Come some night to supper. We 
 do light housekeeping up here in our room, 
 and it 's all so cosy and informal. We 're 
 thorough Bohemians, Clara and I. I tell 
 Evelyn she 's quite a Philistine. She 's always 
 for tidying up, but I tell her: ' What 's the 
 good ? It all has to be done over to-morrow.' 
 It 's lots more sensible to spend the time im- 
 proving your mind. Come to one of my read- 
 ings some time, and I '11 introduce you to some 
 of the young ladies afterwards. They 're only 
 fifty cents, and I guess you '11 get that much 
 out of it anyway." 
 
 Palmer shook hands all around, and then 
 went to Evelyn, who had arisen and was stand- 
 ing near her chair with a smile that he could 
 not fathom on her face. He wished unspeak- 
 ably that she would go down to the door with 
 him, but did not like to suggest it in the ab- 
 sence of any movement on her part. 
 
 ' Will you let me know when you get 
 back?" he asked her, as he held out his 
 hand. 
 
 " If I am in New York for any length of 
 time." 
 
 ' You go on Wednesday ? " 
 
 ' Yes, on Wednesday." Richard could not 
 think of anything further to say to this strange, 
 silent Evelyn, with the other three occupants 
 
Evelyn Goes Home 225 
 
 of the room listening curiously to every word 
 he uttered, so he took himself away with 
 another general good-by, fully determined on 
 seeing Evelyn again before she went South. 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 THE SMITH PART 
 
 THE next day was even colder. Evelyn's 
 little hall bedroom, in which she kept her 
 superfluous belongings when she was out on 
 the road, as she called it, was not heated, and 
 she spent the morning looking over her posses- 
 sions with all her wraps on. Her fingers, which 
 it was not practicable to protect, kept getting 
 numb, and every little while she would have to 
 go down a flight to her mother's room, and 
 thaw them out over the register. That room, 
 which was not any too warm, was even more' 
 disorderly than it had been the day before ; for 
 fresh accumulations of dishes littered every 
 available resting-place, and a heap of soiled 
 clothes occupied the middle of the room, in 
 readiness for the washerwoman who had n't 
 come. 
 
 Mrs. Smith sat serenely in the midst of the 
 confusion, making notes of a talk that she was 
 226 
 
The Smith Part 227 
 
 going to give to a dramatic society which she 
 had recently organised. She and Evelyn had 
 a meagre lunch of chipped beef and stale bread, 
 and, after it was over, Mrs. Smith started out 
 for an afternoon's round of lessons and com- 
 mittee meetings. 
 
 When she had gone, Evelyn brought in her 
 sewing and sat down in front of the register, 
 with her face to the wall so that she need not 
 see the condition of the room. She would 
 have tried to put it in order if she had not been 
 so short of time and if the room itself had not 
 been so hopeless. Her thoughts were anything 
 but pleasant. The atmosphere was so distaste- 
 ful that she felt profoundly depressed. It 
 seemed to her that she simply could not stand 
 two nights and a day more of it. The days 
 were bad enough, but the nights were worse. 
 Nights always are worse. She had spent the 
 one before lying awake and shivering, in spite 
 of all her wardrobe on top of her, in a bed so 
 hard that she became stiff and lame if she lay 
 in one position long at a time. Her pillow 
 was so heavy that it took two hands to turn it, 
 and the sheets and pillow-cases were so rough 
 that they felt uncomfortable against her skin. 
 
 She felt bitter and rebellious this afternoon, 
 especially bitter against those good people who, 
 without knowing what they were talking about, 
 
228 The Things that Count 
 
 preached to her on her duty to her family. 
 She felt glad that she had given Richard a 
 chance to see for himself what sort of a life it 
 was that he had recommended to her. She 
 wondered what he thought of it all. Had it 
 seemed as dreadful to him as it did to her ? 
 How easy it was to be virtuous and dutiful for 
 other people ! 
 
 These periods of depression, which had been 
 unknown to her early youth, had been grow- 
 ing upon Evelyn since her social life " her 
 Dr. Jekyll existence," she called it to herself, 
 had been becoming less attractive to her. A 
 pessimism that was foreign to her nature was 
 gaining upon her. She had fought against it 
 at first, but now she had ceased to struggle. 
 The worst phase of it was that, though she dis- 
 liked intensely her own life on both its sides, 
 the lives of other people did not seem much 
 more desirable. If the lines of some one par- 
 ticular person seemed to her to have fallen in 
 pleasant places, she found herself looking out 
 for sunken snags and crumpled rose leaves. In 
 spite of much evidence to the contrary, she 
 found it hard to believe that anyone provided 
 with an average amount of brains was any hap- 
 pier at heart than she was. She suspected 
 dissimulation everywhere. No pursuit seemed 
 worth while any longer. 
 
The Smith Part 229 
 
 The only existence that presented any at- 
 traction to her imagination was a purely nega- 
 tive one, in which she had nothing to worry her, 
 nothing to offend her taste, absolutely nothing 
 to do; and, all the time, she knew that such a 
 do Ice far niente existence would pall upon her at 
 the end of three days. She would be perfectly 
 wretched under it. 
 
 The dreams with which she had consoled 
 and beautified her childhood no longer charmed 
 her. She doubted the " lived happily ever 
 afterwards " part of them, and wondered, with 
 an involuntary but irrepressible cynicism, how 
 long it would be before her hero would be 
 spending his evenings at the club and she be 
 glad to have him go. Evelyn had always been 
 of a constant nature; she had never found the 
 slightest tendency on the part of her feelings to 
 change without great provocation ; and yet she 
 found herself distrusting her own faithfulness. 
 She took no personal inclination of her own 
 seriously, or even simply, but explained it away 
 with elaborate self-analysis. It was so that 
 she thought of her attraction to Richard. 
 
 I could easily be in love with him, if I 
 wanted to be," she said to herself, as she sat 
 there sewing. ' Most girls would be, with the 
 amount of liking I have for him. They are so 
 ready to push themselves over the edge ! They 
 
230 The Things that Count 
 
 have read and talked and dreamed so much of 
 love that they project it into every relation, 
 just as one constantly sees resemblances in the 
 street to the person who is occupying one's 
 thoughts. They mistake so many side issues 
 for the genuine article if, indeed, there is any 
 genuine article. Perhaps it is a composite of 
 side issues after all. I wish I knew. Now, I 
 don't love Richard. The particular feeling 
 that I have for him is due to several causes. 
 Let me see. In the first place, he is so good 
 to look at ; next, he piques me by resisting my 
 power over him ; third, he is a man whom 
 other women fancy. If I married him, I 
 should be openly pitied for having married a 
 poor man, but secretly envied for having made 
 him care for me. Fourth, I like his manner- 
 isms, his little ways; fifth, he would make love 
 very nicely; sixth, there is an atmosphere of 
 suggested sentiment in the air when we are to- 
 gether that lends a charm to him ; seventh, I 
 like his being in love with me; eighth, I am in 
 love with being in love. The possibilities at- 
 tract me, and intensify my personal feeling. 
 Ninth, and most important, we have grown to 
 seem so near to one another that everybody 
 else feels far away by comparison. I feel cold 
 and lonely with other people. The fascination 
 of being on intimate terms with an attractive 
 
The Smith Part 231 
 
 man is terribly great. Now, unquestionably, 
 these are all side issues," she continued to her- 
 self; " but is there anything else ? The feeling 
 a person's presence out of sight, and hearing it 
 in the beating of your heart, I suppose there is 
 such a thing. If so, I certainly have n't it. 
 Richard has an immense power to disturb me, 
 but only by what he does n't do, not by what 
 he does. If he puts his arms around me, I do 
 not feel a thrill, simply a sensation of tranquil 
 content. Yet he could make my heart beat by 
 neglecting me, by being interested in another 
 girl, by showing me how little power I really 
 have over him. When, for the moment, I feel 
 sure of him, I care for him like a brother. 
 When I realise that I could n't have him if I 
 wanted him, I lie awake at night. I suppose 
 that is perversity. When I am talking to 
 other people, I am thinking about him. He 
 is the one person on earth to me now ; but how 
 do I know that this would continue to be the 
 case if I married him ? Would n't the time be 
 sure to come when I should have to en- 
 tertain him by a deliberate effort, as I do the 
 rest of my world nowadays, with the added dis- 
 advantage that when it got unbearably ted- 
 ious I could n't pack up my trunks and 
 move on ? Oh, to be free ! I want that more 
 than anything on earth, and probably it 
 
232 The Things that Count 
 
 would be the last thing that marriage would 
 bring me. Is there really any freedom, after all ? 
 If I were free this moment from earthly obliga- 
 tions and demands, should n't I be in bondage 
 to the necessities of my own nature ? What on 
 earth could I do with myself, if I were released 
 from social duties, from the demands of my 
 fellow-creatures upon me ? Nothing but die 
 of ennui, so far as I see it. There is no pos- 
 sible pursuit that would always seem to me 
 supremely worth while." 
 
 At five o'clock, Mrs. Smith broke in upon 
 these meditations, her face purple and her 
 teeth chattering with cold. 
 
 ' The gas pipe is frozen at Mrs. Lunt's," 
 she explained; " so the gas stove could n't be 
 lit, and the heat would n't come up in her 
 parlour against the wind, so we nearly froze to 
 death." 
 
 " You don't mean to say that you had your 
 meeting in an unwarmed room this day ? How 
 perfectly crazy! " exclaimed Evelyn. 
 
 " There was no place else we could go, and 
 we had to have the meeting if we are to give 
 that entertainment on Washington's Birthday. 
 There is n't any time to lose. The worst of it 
 is that I have such a pain in my side. I did n't 
 notice it until I got in the street, but it has 
 been getting worse all the way home." 
 
The Smith Part 233 
 
 " It 's probably neuralgia. Probably it will 
 go when you get warm. Here, lie down on 
 the sofa, and I '11 get you some whiskey. I 
 have a little in my flask." She moved the 
 sofa up in front of the register, disclosing a re- 
 markable collection of articles and dirt under- 
 neath it, and covered her mother up with the 
 blankets off the bed, which was still unmade. 
 Then going down-stairs and getting some hot 
 water from Mrs. Pinkerton, she gave her mother 
 some hot whiskey and water and put a bottle of 
 hot water at her side. The pain was easier for 
 a little while, but at the end of half an hour it 
 grew suddenly worse, and presently became so 
 intense that Evelyn was frightened. Mrs. 
 Pinkerton came up, bringing a mustard plaster; 
 but as that produced no relief, the pain seem- 
 ing to get worse rather than better, she advised 
 sending for Dr. Gardner, who lived at the 
 corner. She was much astonished that Evelyn 
 had never heard of him. He was, so she said, 
 by far the best known physician in that part of 
 the world. 
 
 The kind woman went out to get him herself, 
 and fortunately met him at his door, just com- 
 ing home to supper. He came back. with her. 
 Evelyn was relieved to see his big figure in the 
 doorway. His manner reassured her still 
 more. 
 
234 The Things that Count 
 
 ' Well, what have we here ? " he asked, in a 
 big, kindly voice, cheerful, but not aggressively 
 so. Evelyn's eyes met the keen grey ones of 
 a big man, apparently about forty, with a pleas- 
 ant, clever, clean-shaven face. She felt a sud- 
 den lessening of responsibility and anxiety. 
 For the next ten minutes he devoted himself 
 to his patient, asking Evelyn, in an impersonal 
 way, for a glass of water, a towel, and what- 
 ever else he needed. Presently he rose and 
 turned his keen eyes on her. 
 
 " Who 's the nurse ? " he asked abruptly. 
 
 " I am," she answered. 
 
 " What are you to this good lady ? " he de- 
 manded next. 
 
 " Daughter," she returned shortly, feeling 
 that brevity would please him. He looked 
 surprised, and cast a quick glance at her appear- 
 ance and then at the unsightly surroundings. 
 
 " You understand your mother's constitu- 
 tion ? Any peculiarities that I ought to know 
 about?" 
 
 " I do not know of any ; but I have not lived 
 with my mother since I was a child. I came 
 here only yesterday." 
 
 " So. .Well, we shall have to go it blind." 
 
 " My sister will know. She has just come 
 in. I hear her talking to Mrs. Pinkerton in the 
 hall." He looked at her still more curiously 
 
The Smith Part 235 
 
 when Clara came in, in her usual accentuated 
 attire. 
 
 " You had better go out and get some sup- 
 per," Evelyn said to her in a low voice, when 
 she had answered the Doctor's inquiries, and he 
 had turned again to his patient. Clara was 
 thoroughly frightened and awed, and left the 
 room without another word. 
 
 " Are you used to illness ? " the Doctor fired 
 at Evelyn, a moment later. 
 
 "No, but I am capable, and can do what I 
 am told to do." 
 
 " Are you strong ? " 
 
 " Very. I have never been ill a day since 
 I was a child, and I am used to hard work." 
 
 " What kind of hard work ? " he demanded, 
 in the same impersonal manner. 
 
 " I can bicycle all morning, swim for an hour 
 at noon, golf all the afternoon, and, it may be, 
 dance half the night without being perceptibly 
 the worse for it the next day." 
 
 ' That 's more than I can do. We don't go 
 in for sport in Jersey City," he added dryly. 
 Evelyn felt that he suspected her of putting 
 on airs, and felt uncomfortable; the more so 
 that she knew that she had been trying to im- 
 press him with her separate existence from the 
 unattractive one around her. 
 
 " Well, that 's not to the point," he went 
 
236 The Things that Count 
 
 on abruptly. " Your mother is very ill, I am 
 afraid. Pleurisy certainly, and I suspect other 
 complications. Her system is very much run 
 down, and was ready for anything. It was 
 only a question of what got in ahead. I guess 
 she has n't been taking proper care of herself: 
 living on tea and things of that sort." He 
 glanced at a sardine can on the mantelpiece. 
 
 My mother would always live irregularly, 
 no matter how she was situated. She hates 
 routine," Evelyn explained. 
 
 " I suspected as much. Well, I am going 
 to send some medicine around in a few min- 
 utes. There will full directions come with it ; 
 but there are besides a number of things that 
 I want to explain to you." She went over to 
 the mantelpiece and dug out a piece of paper 
 and a pencil without any point. The Doctor 
 handed her his, and then went on to give her 
 directions about what she was to do. She was 
 struck with the minuteness with which he went 
 into every detail. He took nothing for granted. 
 
 " Well," he said at length, after a few patt- 
 ing words to Mrs. Smith, 4< get that good 
 woman (what did you say her name was ? 
 Mrs. Pinkerton ?) to help you get your mother 
 to bed. She seems to have some savey. I '11 
 be in in the morning very early, and you can 
 send for me in the night if she gets worse. 
 
The Smith Part 237 
 
 The medicine will quiet the pain before long, 
 I hope." Evelyn followed him into the hall. 
 
 " Is there danger?" she asked, in an un- 
 steady voice. 
 
 " Not immediate danger. Of course, you can 
 never tell what complications may not develop 
 in serious cases like this; and your mother's 
 condition is against her." 
 
 "I have never known of her being ill," said 
 Evelyn. 
 
 " Has she taken much medicine? dosed 
 much ?" 
 
 " I think not. She believed in some kind 
 of mental healing for a time." 
 
 41 Then she will probably respond readily to 
 treatment. I shall try strong measures. We 
 will leave nothing undone." He held out his 
 hand to Evelyn, with the first smile with which 
 he had honoured her. 
 
 In spite of the discouraging nature of his 
 words, Evelyn felt encouraged. There was 
 such a sense of power about the man that she 
 put her faith in him implicitly. She liked it 
 that he had made no extravagant protestations 
 of what he would do for her mother. He gave 
 the impression of possessing such an excess of 
 vitality that she felt he could hand over a sup- 
 ply to his patients, if necessary, and still have 
 more than most people. 
 
238 The Things that Count 
 
 That night, the first she had ever spent by a 
 sick-bed, seemed terribly long to Evelyn, in 
 spite of the fact that she had something to do 
 for her mother every five minutes. She had 
 sent Clara, who was unpractical as well as in- 
 experienced, to bed in her room. At one, kind 
 Mrs. Pinkerton came in with some hot coffee 
 and toast which she had made, and stayed with 
 Evelyn as long as she would let her. She had 
 lighted a fire in the fireplace, by the Doctor's 
 order, and with that and the coal-oil stove did 
 her best to keep the room warm. Mrs. Smith 
 suffered a great deal. The opiates which she 
 had taken, while they did not stop the pain, 
 affected her head a little, so that she moaned 
 and muttered to herself in the most distressing 
 way. Towards morning the pain grew worse, 
 and Evelyn was thinking that she would have 
 to wake Clara to go for the Doctor, when he 
 came in. It was only six o'clock. 
 
 " I was afraid of this," he said in his deep, 
 strong voice, without one discordant note in it, 
 when he had looked at Mrs. Smith and heard 
 Evelyn's report of the night. ' You will have 
 to have someone to help you," he went on, 
 when he had taken Mrs. Smith's temperature 
 and felt her pulse. ' You must have a nurse." 
 
 "It is impossible," Evelyn replied firmly. 
 " We have not the money to pay her. Mrs. 
 
The Smith Part 239 
 
 Pinkerton has offered to take care of her in the 
 afternoon, and let me sleep." 
 
 " Can't your sister help ? " 
 
 " She can't leave her work. She would lose 
 her place, and the money is very important 
 now. Besides, she would not be of any use. 
 She would mean to do well, but she is careless 
 and irresponsible." 
 
 " What does she do ?" 
 
 " She is cashier of a candy store on Eighth 
 Avenue." 
 
 " Do you earn your own living ? " 
 
 " I do not." 
 
 " How do you manage to golf and amuse 
 yourself all day and dance all night then ? " 
 
 Evelyn could not bring herself to say, " I 
 visit." It sounded too hopelessly inadequate 
 as a scheme of existence, and she could not 
 think of anything else to say; so, after a mo- 
 ment's hesitation, she replied rather coldly: 
 
 " I do not see that this matters." 
 ' Perhaps not. I simply wished to be sure 
 that a professional nurse was an impossibility." 
 I have just twenty dollars in the world and 
 some clothes, which, while they are valuable to 
 me, would hardly bring much. My mother has 
 very little, except what she earns by giving elo- 
 cution lessons and readings, and that, of course, 
 stops now. We are hopelessly impecunious. 
 
240 The Things that Count 
 
 You do well to be anxious about your bill." 
 The Doctor smiled. 
 
 " I am not anxious about that," he answered 
 indifferently. Evidently, he was impervious to 
 small shafts. 
 
 That day and the following night were criti- 
 cal. Evelyn did not take her clothes off at all. 
 The Doctor came every two hours, and did 
 everything that human skill could do to relieve 
 the patient's suffering. Evelyn felt thankful 
 for her own neat-handed ways when she saw 
 the skilled accuracy with which he made every 
 movement. He would not have been lenient 
 with inefficiency. Wednesday morning there 
 was a decided improvement, and he ventured 
 to predict that they would pull her through if 
 nothing unforeseen occurred. The greatest 
 care would be necessary for some time, how- 
 ever. 
 
 Tuesday afternoon, Evelyn sent a telegram 
 to the Armitages, saying that she could not go 
 with them. She wrote it on a scrap of paper, 
 and asked the Doctor to copy it on a blank and 
 send it off for her, as she had no one else to 
 send. She addressed it to Mr. Armitage at his 
 office, as there was some uncertainty as to 
 where the women of the family would be that 
 night. She was not sorry that the Doctor 
 should read it. G. A. Armitage, of Wall 
 
The Smith Part 241 
 
 Street, was well known even to obscure doc- 
 tors in small cities. 
 
 Mrs. Smith continued to get belter on Thurs- 
 day ; but on Friday inflammatory rheumatism 
 set in. 
 
 " I have been expecting something of the 
 sort," the Doctor said, when he arrived. "I am 
 afraid that you are going to have your hands 
 full, young woman." 
 
 And so it proved. Mrs. Smith's constitution 
 had at last rebelled against the years of irreg- 
 ular, comfortless living to which she had sub- 
 jected it. When April came, Evelyn was still 
 at her post. Her mother was better, but not 
 yet out of bed, and Dr. Gardner still came 
 once a day. 
 
 16 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 RICHARD RECEIVES A BLOW 
 
 THE condition of her mother's room was a 
 continual nightmare to Evelyn. She 
 kept it in perfect order, and as clean as she 
 could, with a carpet full of the dirt of years on 
 the floor. Towards the end of April, she 
 planned a great undertaking. Dr. Gardner, 
 when consulted, thoroughly approved, though 
 he protested against Evelyn's doing the heavy 
 work herself. Accordingly, one Saturday after- 
 noon, Mrs. Smith was moved into the back 
 room on the same floor, which was temporarily 
 vacant, and of which Mrs. Pinkerton was kind 
 enough to lend them the use. 
 
 The carpet was disposed of to the man who 
 shovelled snow off the sidewalk, for the taking 
 it up and a little assistance. Sunday morning, 
 at dawn, Evelyn went to work, turning her 
 mother over to Clara for the entire day. The 
 curtains were taken down and burned. The 
 242 
 
Richard Receives a Blow 243 
 
 walls, which were the best feature in the room, 
 the paper being unobtrusive, and even rather 
 pretty, were brushed down. The bedding was 
 taken out on the clothes-line and beaten. The 
 floor was scrubbed with hot soapsuds, the wood- 
 work rubbed up, the mantel and wash-stand 
 sapolioed, the windows washed. 
 
 At two o'clock Evelyn threw herself flat on 
 the bed, on which the mattress had just been 
 replaced, and looked around her with a sigh of 
 satisfaction. Outside was a beautiful spring 
 day, and through the open window the fragrant 
 air stole unobstructed into the room. The 
 elms on the sidewalk were covered with blos- 
 soms, and the woodbine was budding around 
 the window-frames. She was horribly tired, 
 but happy with the sense of having accom- 
 plished something which she had long desired. 
 She had lain there ten minutes, too tired to 
 move, when a knock came at the door. She 
 called out "Come in." The door opened, and 
 Richard appeared around the corner of the 
 alcove. 
 
 ' Your landlady sent me up. She told me 
 what you were doing, and all your family his- 
 tory. Why did n't you let me know that you 
 were here, and that Mrs. Smith had been so 
 ill ? " he demanded indignantly. 
 
 " Oh, I don't know," she answered, without 
 
244 The Things that Count 
 
 moving from her prostrate position. " There 
 was n't any particular reason for telling you ; 
 that was all. Come and sit down by me. 
 Excuse me if I don't get up. Well, how are 
 you ? Are n't you going to shake hands ? " 
 
 " I don't know. I have a general sense of 
 being angry at you, which it will probably take 
 me a couple of minutes to work out of. Here, 
 do let me put that pillow under your head! 
 You look so very much as if you were laid 
 out! " He looked down at her with a kindly 
 smile after he had arranged the pillow ; then 
 he took one of her hands in his and shook 
 it. ' Dear me, how deliciously dirty you 
 are!" he exclaimed, still holding her hand, 
 and gazing at it with an amused expression. 
 " I suppose it was white originally, though 
 you 'd never suspect it. And your face has 
 such a fascinating smudge on your forehead, 
 and one on your left cheek, and your hair 
 looks like a haystack, and your gown as if you 
 had been digging clams in it." 
 
 ;< Don't make fun of me! " Evelyn protested, 
 trying to smile, while the tears came into her 
 eyes at the affection in his tone. 
 
 " I am overjoyed to see you like this. Do 
 you know, much as I like to see women careful 
 in their dress, I used to resent your unvarying 
 immaculateness. It was too perfect, too 
 
Richard Receives a Blow 245 
 
 suggestive of much thought. I love you this 
 way. I kiss your dirty hand with the greatest 
 pleasure." 
 
 " Don't, Richard, don't!" Evelyn protested. 
 " You don't know what germs there may be 
 on it. I '11 wager there were millions on this 
 dirty, dirty floor. I wish they were clean, but 
 I 'm too tired to get up and wash them." 
 
 " Let me do it for you." A paper basin 
 was standing on the mantelpiece. He filled 
 it with warm water at the wash-stand, and 
 brought it over to the bed, together with some 
 soap and a nail brush. 
 
 ' There is n't any towel, but my handker- 
 chief will do," he said, setting the ba^in down 
 beside her. ;< Now give us a paw, old fellow." 
 He went gravely and deliberately to work to 
 wash her hands, apparently completely ab- 
 sorbed in what he was doing. 
 
 ' There is one tremendous advantage women 
 have over men," Evelyn began presently. 
 
 " What is that ?" 
 
 The power to do more than one thing at 
 a time. Now, I could scrub your hands and 
 entertain you at the same time, without an 
 atom of difficulty; and I should do it just as 
 well, too, so you need not make any objections 
 on that score. I have always noticed the 
 difference. You know, they say that Queen 
 
246 The Things that Count 
 
 Elizabeth could dictate letters in six different 
 languages to six different secretaries at the 
 same time. I am sure that Henry the Eighth 
 could n't." 
 
 " Do you believe, that yarn ?" 
 
 ' To be honest, no. Probably she once 
 dictated a French and an English one at the 
 same time, and the story has grown from that." 
 
 ' My dear girl, don't you know that it is just 
 the masculine concentration on the business in 
 hand that has made us get there ? It is an ex- 
 cellent habit to acquire, my child. There! I 
 think they are tolerably clean," he added, dry- 
 ing her hands finger by finger on his handker- 
 chief, arid spreading it out to dry on the 
 foot-board of the bed. He took away the 
 basin, and then came back and sat down again. 
 ' What are you going to do next ? " he de- 
 manded. 
 
 " Nothing, except dust the blinds. I am 
 going to do nothing else to-day. Mother 
 can't be moved back until day after to-morrow, 
 for fear of the floor's not being perfectly dry." 
 
 " I will dust the blinds. Just tell me how 
 you want it done." 
 
 " Not if it means that you can't talk to me." 
 
 " I think my intellect will be equal to both. 
 Where 's your duster ? " 
 
 There, hanging on that far blind. It 's a 
 
Richard Receives a Blow 247 
 
 clean one, and has kerosene on it, so I hope 
 that you don't dislike the odour. The blinds 
 have had a rough dusting, but I want you to 
 poke the duster between all the slats and get 
 every speck off. Here, lift them off, and rest 
 them against the window-frame so, and then 
 you can sit here on the bed and talk to me 
 while you do it." 
 
 * That 's dead easy. This is fun. How 
 nice and shiny they look!" 
 
 ' Wait until you get through. You see, 
 there are twelve blinds, and four shutters on 
 each one." 
 
 " The more the better. Now tell me about 
 your mother. I can listen, if I can't talk." 
 Evelyn began to laugh. 
 
 ' Excuse me; I can't help it. You do that 
 in such a terribly painstaking way," she apolo- 
 gised. 
 
 " Well, would n't you ?" 
 
 I 'd take pains, but I would n't make it so 
 evident. Perfection without the appearance 
 of effort is my motto." 
 
 Perfection ! There 's nothing modest 
 about you. But, come; stop making fun of 
 me. I want to hear about Mrs. Smith." 
 Evelyn gave him a short account of her ex- 
 periences for the last two months. 
 
 And how do you feel about it ? I suppose 
 
248 The Things that Count 
 
 you did n't like it ? " he asked, when she had 
 finished. 
 
 " Like it ! I have hated it every second, 
 except for a few brief ones like the present, 
 when I have been elated with a sense of 
 achievement. It was nothing but a fear of 
 my own conscience that has kept me here. I 
 knew that it would be perfectly impossible for 
 me to enjoy myself anywhere else. Besides, 
 there has n't been anybody else to do it. Do 
 you know, Richard I suppose I am terribly 
 depraved but I have resented it dreadfully 
 having to do this thing. It is n't as if I had 
 ever owed anything to my mother, beyond my 
 bare life; and that was not given me with any 
 thought of my good. She was only too glad 
 to turn me over to the first person who wanted 
 me, and she neglected me before that. Her 
 own children were allowed to go dirty and un- 
 cared for while she busied herself about the 
 real or imaginary needs of other people. Now 
 that you have seen my home, I don't think 
 you can blame me for doing what Mrs. Van 
 Horn calls ' deserting my mother.' ' 
 
 " No, indeed ! " Richard said warmly, poking 
 his duster into a particularly dirty corner with 
 a hairpin which Evelyn handed him. 
 
 " It is utterly impossible for me to live with 
 my family," she went on, speaking freely on 
 
Richard Receives a Blow 249 
 
 the subject for the first time in her life. "And 
 they do not want it, any more than I. I try 
 my best to be as little critical as possible; but 
 they resent my difference from themselves, and 
 feel my presence a restraint. They do not take 
 the slightest interest in my concerns, and they 
 do not recognise my standards. Clara thinks 
 that the girls in her candy store are much 
 higher authorities in manners and fashions 
 than I am. She asked me the other day why 
 I did n't do my hair in a certain exaggerated 
 style, saying that it was all the rage, and my 
 way of doing it was so dowdy. I told her of 
 several women who do it the way I do, but 
 their names meant nothing to her. She does 
 not read the papers. It is hard for us to find 
 subjects to talk about, so sometimes I tell them 
 a little about the grandeurs in which I have 
 been a humble participant; but it always turns 
 out that Mrs. Lunt's cousin or Mamie Atkins's 
 aunt has something twice as grand. If my 
 great lady has four men-servants, Mrs. Lunt's 
 cousin has eight. I told them about the Van 
 Horn hothouses, but Mamie Atkins's aunt has 
 a whole farm roofed in. Oh, it is dreadful 
 having a family whom you can't impress! " she 
 exclaimed, with a laugh in which Richard did 
 not join. His face looked very grave. ' ' Don't 
 work so hard ; you make me nervous ! " she 
 
250 The Things that Count 
 
 broke out, trying to pull the duster away from 
 him. He calmly unclasped her hand and 
 moved the duster out of her reach. 
 
 " Perfection with effort is my motto," he 
 said. " By the way, Evelyn, speaking of the 
 Van Horns, what have you done to Lucia ? " 
 He did not look at her as he asked this 
 question. 
 
 " I done to Lucia ?" she exclaimed, sitting 
 up straight and trying not to let her voice 
 sound conscious. 
 
 " You don't seem to be in her good graces." 
 ' What did she say about me ? " she de- 
 manded. 
 
 " It was a general impression she gave me." 
 ' You can't get out of it that way. Tell me 
 what she said." 
 
 " I don't want to. I don't want to make 
 trouble between you. I am not a person who 
 repeats things." 
 
 " You won't make any more than there is. 
 I know what the matter is, and I insist on your 
 telling we what she said. Then I will explain 
 her point of view to you, not otherwise." 
 
 " Very well, then, she said " He paused 
 and then broke out: " Oh, I can't tell you, I 
 simply won't do it ! " 
 
 " How bad it must be! Suppose I tell you, 
 then ? She said that I was a common, 
 
Richard Receives a Blow 251 
 
 unrefined woman, and used some other adjec- 
 tives of that nature." 
 
 " Tell me how you know," he said. 
 
 " Listen here," and Evelyn gave him a short 
 account, in very general terms, of the mischief 
 she had got into that snowy afternoon. 
 
 " Was that all ? " he asked, in a relieved tone 
 when she had finished her little story. 
 
 " Yes, all. Does it seem an inadequate rea- 
 son to you for her feeling ? It would n't if 
 you had ever been a young girl of her type. I 
 am not like her, but I should have loathed a 
 woman who did such a thing to me when I was 
 sixteen. I was different by the time I was 
 Lucia's age. It is funny that such a little 
 thing should have spoiled a friendship. It 
 has, however; for, apart from her attitude, I 
 shall never be comfortable with her again. I 
 only wish that I had realised the consequences 
 beforehand. That is the true reason why I 
 was so vindictive against the whole family the 
 last time I saw you." 
 
 " I can't tell you how relieved I am," he 
 replied, getting up and exchanging a clean 
 blind for a dirty one. 
 
 Is that why you have let me so severely 
 alone ? " she demanded. 
 
 ' How could I do anything else, when I 
 had n't an idea where you were ? " 
 
252 The Things that Count 
 
 But your silence was n't just an ordinary 
 one: it was significant. " 
 
 4 What nonsense!" he exclaimed with a 
 laugh, in which Evelyn had to join. 
 
 " All the same, there is a terrible difference 
 in silences," she persisted. 
 
 ' The difference is generally only to one 
 person of the two involved," he objected. 
 
 " Yes, that is so," she admitted. " But this 
 time there was a certain quality in it that was 
 appreciable to both. I knew by intuition that 
 something was the matter. But how did you 
 know that I was here ? " she broke off, evid- 
 ently struck by the thought for the first time. 
 
 " I did n't. I could n't stand it any longer, 
 and I came over to get your address from your 
 mother. I did n't know her number or her 
 initials, so I could n't write; but I knew that 
 I should recognise the house when I saw it by 
 the gorgeous paper ladies in the first floor 
 windows." 
 
 " But you have n't answered my question," 
 Evelyn persisted. 
 
 Let me tell you about it may I ?" he 
 asked appealingly. ' You are not like most 
 women, with the eternal chip on their shoulders, 
 and it won't seem so unforgivable to you that 
 I should doubt you vaguely. As if they 
 did n't do any doubting themselves! " he 
 
Richard Receives a Blow 253 
 
 remarked parenthetically. Evelyn nodded con- 
 sent, and he continued: " I don't know that I 
 should have believed any definite charge against 
 you without going to you with it ; but a general 
 accusation of this kind, coming from a truthful, 
 honourable, pure-minded girl like Lucia, fright- 
 ened me. I could n't believe it; but I was 
 ready to doubt the evidence of my own senses, 
 to think that I had been a fool and that you 
 had been playing a part. Of course, I did n't 
 really think that; but the possibility kept dart- 
 ing into my head at uncomfortable moments. 
 When I left her that Sunday afternoon, I fully 
 intended coming over here the next evening 
 and having it out with you. I was going to 
 carry you off your feet, and make you feel that 
 it was better to be poor and my wife than to 
 have a million in your own right. I have felt 
 so strongly the growing detachment in you 
 from mere possessions, and I felt that you only 
 needed to be shown a better life to turn to it 
 eagerly. I felt that I could help you, that we 
 could help each other to become anything we 
 wished. I felt that your home accounted fully 
 for anything that I had criticised in you. It 
 was n't anything you said that day (indeed, 
 you were decidedly out of temper), but it was 
 something in your manner. I felt that we 
 were very near to one another if we would only 
 
254 The Things that Count 
 
 let go of our pride and acknowledge it. Well, 
 on the way back, I discovered that I had left 
 my umbrella at the Van Horns', and that 
 evening I felt it my duty to go back and get 
 it, although I was extremely indisposed to any 
 company but my own thoughts. Dolly had 
 gone to do her duty to the family pew at 
 church and Mrs. Van Horn to bed, so I found 
 Lucia all alone." He paused for a minute. 
 
 " Go on," Evelyn said in a low voice. 
 
 " Well, I was so full of you that it pleased 
 me to hear the sound of your ugly name, so I 
 introduced the subject. I expected to be met 
 with enthusiasm ; but instead, to my great sur- 
 prise, she broke into a perfect tirade against 
 you, said you were no lady, and a lot of other 
 things. I tried to get her to particularise, but 
 I could get nothing out of her that was n't very 
 general." 
 
 'The poor child!" exclaimed Evelyn. 
 " Probably there was a little jealousy in it, 
 too, of your interest in me," she added in an 
 impersonal tone. 
 
 " Do you think so ? " he asked. " I had n't 
 thought of it; but as I am the first man she 
 has ever known, poor girl, it would n't be in- 
 conceivable. W 7 ell, I was excessively put out, 
 and I took no pains to hide it ; and then she 
 made some still stronger statements, all in the 
 
Richard Receives a Blow 255 
 
 same line. I confess I was staggered. I could 
 n't see any earthly reason why she should 
 make up such charges out of whole cloth." 
 
 11 How did it end ? " Evelyn asked. 
 
 " I hurried off just before it was time for 
 Dolly, and I have n't been there since. I 
 did n't really believe it, but I did n't come 
 over here the next day, and it has kept me 
 silent all this time. Can you forgive me ?" 
 He took her hand in his. He had stopped his 
 work at the beginning of his story. 
 
 " I don't feel as if I had anything to forgive; 
 but I '11 say so, if you like." 
 
 " But why, then, do you seem so remote ? 
 You are not so near me as you were that other 
 day. I have felt a sense of detachment ever 
 since the first moment I saw you ; but you 
 did n't know about this then. Is it that you 
 have blamed me for my silence ? " 
 
 " I have hardly thought of it," Evelyn 
 answered honestly. " No, Richard; I don't 
 resent your attitude in any way. I don't see 
 how you could have helped having misgivings, 
 with all the bad things that you know about 
 me. I am not a woman in whom one could 
 have faith blindly. It is not true, however: 
 not at all. I have told you the absolute truth. 
 Whatever faults I have, unrefinement is not 
 one of them. I hate it with every fibre of me, 
 
256 The Things that Count 
 
 and that is the chief reason why my present 
 life is so distasteful. I don't see how you 
 could have helped realising that for yourself." 
 
 " I did, and that was why I was so com- 
 pletely at sea. It seemed so impossible to as- 
 sociate the idea of unrefinement with you ; and 
 yet I could n't see how Lucia could have 
 slipped up on it so. You said that you did n't 
 resent my attitude, but you were going to add 
 a' but.' What was it ?" 
 
 "It is simply that it has made a differ- 
 ence that will probably affect both our lives. 
 Then you could have made me do anything in 
 heaven or earth that you wanted me to, if you 
 had only put enough fervour into it; now 
 you are right I am detached from you," she 
 broke off. 
 
 " Has another influence come into your 
 life ? " he asked in a low voice. 
 
 Evelyn did not answer. She was listening 
 to steps on the stairs with a look of eager ex- 
 pectation on her face that Richard had never 
 seen there before. He knew the answer to his 
 question before the door opened, after a per- 
 functory knock, and Dr. Gardner stood at the 
 foot of the bed. 
 
 "Well, this is a house-cleaning!" he ex- 
 claimed in his deep, pleasant voice, looking 
 around the room. 
 
Richard Receives a Blow 257 
 
 " Dr. Gardner, I want you to meet Mr. 
 Palmer, my new assistant housemaid," said 
 Evelyn. The two men shook hands, looking 
 at each other with keen observation. "He 
 has been dusting the blinds for me," she added. 
 
 ' That reminds me that I have still one more 
 to do," said Palmer. 
 
 " Oh, never mind that," protested Evelyn. 
 
 " Do you think I would leave my work half 
 done ? That is contrary to my motto. Do 
 you know what Miss Smith's is, Dr. Gardner ? " 
 ' Get up and git,' I should say." 
 Nothing half so expressive ' Perfection 
 without effort.' Is n't that a nice modest one 
 to choose ? She thinks I work too hard." 
 
 " I know Dr. Gardner would do that twice as 
 easily," said Evelyn. " Here," she added, turn- 
 ing to the Doctor, " sit down and show Mr. 
 Palmer how to dust blinds. There is nothing 
 he can't do," she said parenthetically to Palmer. 
 
 " Then I most certainly won't spoil my 
 reputation," returned the Doctor. 
 
 ' Well, sit down and visit with us a little, 
 anyway. Here 's a third of a bed for you to 
 sit on. I want you and Mr. Palmer to know 
 each other. You were made for friends. I 
 have thought of it so many times since I have 
 known you." 
 
 Do you think she knows ? " Dr. Gardner 
 
 17 
 
258 The Things that Count 
 
 demanded of Richard, with a humorous shake 
 of his head in Evelyn's direction. 
 
 I think she does as far as I am concerned," 
 said Richard magnanimously. The Doctor 
 made the motion of raising a glass to his lips. 
 
 Here 's to our future friendship," he said. 
 Richard stretched out his hand, and the two 
 men shook hands with mock solemnity. 
 
 " Sit down, sit down," protested Evelyn. 
 " It makes me nervous to have you stand. I 
 feel sure that you are going every second." 
 
 ' Well, so I am. You forget, young woman, 
 that I am not a gay butterfly." 
 
 ' Well, be one for half-an-hour, and see what 
 it feels like. Sit down, and discover how nice 
 I am. He is so much more interested in my 
 mother than in me that it hurts my feelings," 
 she remarked to Richard. 
 
 " Do you answer for the bed ?" asked the 
 Doctor, as he sat down. The springs groaned 
 ominously. 
 
 " I am planning to get up an illness on my 
 own account, so as to excite a little interest," 
 she continued. " Well people simply don't 
 exist for him." 
 
 "You will be nicely ready for it in about a 
 week more if you throw in spring cleanings and 
 little pleasures of that sort in addition to your 
 duties as nurse and maid-of-all-work." 
 
Richard Receives a Blow 259 
 
 " Don't you hate a man who is so absorbed 
 in his profession that he has become a mere 
 machine, and has nothing human left in him ? " 
 Evelyn demanded of Palmer, who was pegging 
 away resolutely at his remaining blind. 
 
 ;< Do you know anybody of that type, Miss 
 Smith ? " put in the Doctor. 
 
 " Who hardly notices what he eats, drinks, 
 or wears," she continued ; " who makes no dis- 
 tinction between individuals, except as to the 
 greater or less interest of the diseases they 
 have, a man to whom a woman is simply a 
 combination of bones, muscles, and flesh?" she 
 concluded, with an effective climax. 
 
 " Blood and a few other things," put in the 
 Doctor under his breath. 
 
 " ' A rag, and a bone, and a hank of hair,' ' 
 quoted Richard. " I see what is the rub for 
 Miss Smith," he continued, addressing the 
 Doctor. ' She is accustomed to have her 
 little world at her feet, and she does n't quite 
 know what to make of it if homage is denied." 
 
 " I should think that it would be a very good 
 thing for her once in a while, then," he re- 
 turned. " Perhaps I have been disciplining 
 her. Who knows ? " 
 
 " I wish I could believe that; but your in- 
 difference is too unflatteringly genuine," re- 
 marked Evelyn. 
 
260 The Things that Count 
 
 " Still, I am not admitting that there has 
 been any," he went on. " Indeed, I have 
 always taken a profound interest in Miss Smith 
 on her own account, apart from a vicarious one 
 on her mother's. She is rather a nice sort of a 
 person on the whole; don't you think so, Mr. 
 Palmer ? " 
 
 " I most certainly do," returned Richard. 
 
 " All the same, he had his doubts about 
 me at first," said Evelyn, referring to Dr. 
 Gardner. 
 
 ' What do you know about my doubts ? " 
 demanded the Doctor. 
 
 ''' I can read you like a book. You ought to 
 have heard him catechising me about the 
 sources of my income. He had some dreadful 
 suspicion about me," she added, turning to 
 Richard. 
 
 " I am covered with confusion! " the Doctor 
 protested, but he did not look so as he sat gaz- 
 ing at Evelyn in the most undisturbed fashion. 
 " All the same, I don't know what you live on 
 yet." 
 
 ' Why should you ? Do you expect to 
 know the sources of all your friends' incomes ? 
 As it happens, however, I have n't the slightest 
 objection to telling you. I have a small in- 
 come which I inherited from the aunt who 
 adopted me and brought me up. I live on 
 
Richard Receives a Blow 261 
 
 that and my friends, of whom I am so fortu- 
 nate as to have a large number." 
 
 " Or so unfortunate," Richard put in. 
 
 ' You are not in this conversation. I am 
 talking to Dr. Gardner. Are you really go- 
 ing ? " she broke off, turning to the Doctor. 
 " Well, I don't blame you. We are entirely 
 too frivolous for the serious professional mind. 
 You will find Mother in the back room, and 
 Clara with her. I think they must both have 
 been asleep. I have n't heard a sound from 
 there all the afternoon." Dr. Gardner held 
 out his hand to Richard. 
 
 Good-by, my future friend," he said in 
 his easy, cordial fashion. 
 
 Richard had another shutter on his blind to 
 do, and he finished it carefully, and put the 
 blind back in its place before he spoke to 
 Evelyn. 
 
 ' Well," he began, when he had sat down 
 beside her again, " I don't realise it at all yet. 
 I am dazed. I suppose it will all come over 
 me with a hideous rush later on. He is a man, 
 anyway. I am glad of that. I am glad, too, 
 to see that you can care. I have sometimes 
 doubted it. So there are two blessings to be 
 grateful for." 
 
 ' It is perfectly true what I said to him. I 
 am of no consequence to him beside his 
 
262 The Things that Count 
 
 profession. He cares nothing for me," she 
 answered simply, without any attempt at 
 equivocation or denial of what he had implied. 
 But he will; surely he will," Richard said 
 consolingly, putting his own side of the ques- 
 tion out of sight for the time. 
 
 " I don't know about that. I doubt it. 
 
 Richard, you are right! He is such a man! 
 
 1 must tell you a little about him, because 
 I can't let you think it was just anybody who 
 came along. I have never known anyone like 
 him. He is so strong that I obey him instinct- 
 ively, just as if I were a child. My faults 
 would never be a matter of any consequence 
 to him, if he cared ; for he would realise that 
 he could make anything he wanted out of me. 
 I am not blaming you, Richard," she went on, 
 taking his hand in both hers. " I don't see 
 how you could have acted differently. You 
 did not have the advantage of seeing me under 
 the circumstances that he has done, and of try- 
 ing your power over me in a natural, every-day 
 way. And, of course, that affair with Arthur, 
 your knowing about it, I mean, was unfortu- 
 nate; it made you start with a prejudice. 
 Otherwise, I think you would have realised 
 that the things you objected to in me did n't 
 go very deep. The love of show and luxury, 
 the love of admiration which made me not 
 
Richard Receives a Blow 263 
 
 quite straightforward sometimes, did n't go so 
 far down as they seemed to. They have all 
 gone from me so easily now. I was very near 
 loving you last summer; and this winter, too," 
 she continued after a little pause. " It was 
 only your attitude that kept me from doing it 
 wholly. That day at Bay Island, for instance ; 
 or that day you came over here, if you had 
 said to me one word of love without a reserva- 
 tion, I should have given in on the spot. I 
 have never minded your being poor; partly I 
 will be honest because I have always felt that 
 it was only temporary. The only things that 
 I minded, that my pride minded, was the way 
 that you fought against your feeling for me, 
 as of something unworthy of you. It was this 
 that kept me cold." 
 
 "Oh, my accursed prudence!" groaned 
 Richard. 
 
 ' I am sorry for this in a way," she con- 
 tinued; " because I think we should have been 
 very happy together, and now I see nothing 
 but unhappiness before me." 
 
 " Do you care for him more than you did 
 for Hunt ? " Richard asked, in a low voice. 
 
 " A hundred thousand times more! That 
 was merely a fancy. I don't believe that there 
 has been any time in my life when I would not 
 have gladly sold my goods and followed him 
 
264 The Things that Count 
 
 if I had only known him. I would infinitely 
 rather be his wife, a poor Jersey City doctor, 
 than rule society. It will never come to me, 
 however." 
 
 I can't believe that. What makes you so 
 certain of it ? " 
 
 I am so perfectly powerless. I have never, 
 in my whole life, shown anyone so nice, so at- 
 tractive a side of myself as I have him. I did 
 not know that I had it in me to be so nice. I 
 am utterly different to him than to anyone 
 else; and yet it is perfectly genuine. It is my 
 best self come to life at last. I could n't be 
 anything else but perfectly honest with him, 
 if I knew that by a little manoeuvre or reserva- 
 tion I could get what I want most on earth. I 
 have shown him this side, and I think he likes 
 me thoroughly ; is even fond of me in a sort of 
 elder - brotherly way; but that is all. He 
 does n't seem to realise that I am a woman to 
 be loved. It does n't seem to occur to him 
 that there are such possibilities in his life. 
 Why, do you know, I have done everything 
 to keep him for ten minutes after his visit to 
 my mother; and I have never succeeded in 
 keeping him one second longer than he in- 
 tended to stay. He is absorbed in his profes- 
 sion, body and soul ; and yet, the strange 
 thing is that he seems to have no ambitions 
 
Richard Receives a Blow 265 
 
 about getting on. Mrs. Pinkerton says that 
 he has had innumerable offers from big hos- 
 pitals in New York; and the biggest doctors 
 there are always sending for him for consulta- 
 tions ; but he persists in staying right here ; and 
 he sends the most ridiculously small bills, and 
 lets people pay them or not, just as. they 
 choose." 
 
 " Perhaps he has had something in his life 
 that he has never got over," Richard suggested. 
 
 " I have often wondered. He has never 
 been married, I know. He does n't seem like 
 the sort of man to have had a tragedy in his 
 life, he is always so matter-of-fact and cheerful. 
 His patients all adore him, and he is lovely 
 to them while they are ill ; but just as soon as 
 they are well, he drops them completely. He 
 has told me more than once that he has no 
 time for well people; so I see my finish." She 
 tried to say this lightly, but there was a little 
 break in her voice. Richard held her hand 
 and rubbed his fingers up and down her wrist 
 to show his sympathy. Evelyn went on : " He 
 is a self-made man. He has never been to 
 college, and he never reads anything that is n't 
 medical nowadays, though he told me that he 
 used to be a great reader when he was a boy ; 
 and there are lots of little things he does n't 
 know, about forks and neckties, and all that 
 
266 The Things that Count 
 
 sort of thing; but, some way, I don't care an 
 atom. I would n't have him different if I 
 could by wishing it. He is so big that such 
 things seem small beside him. Except for 
 being immaculately neat, he never cares what 
 he has on, or what I have on either," she added 
 regretfully. " He has no idea that a sack coat 
 and an old brown derby hat are not appropriate 
 for every hour of the day. I saw him looking 
 at your get-up, and he will probably make 
 some remark about it to-morrow. He does n't 
 care; but nothing escapes him." 
 
 " He is a fine-looking man, and he has a 
 beautiful voice," Richard remarked. There 
 was a note in his voice that attracted Evelyn's 
 attention. 
 
 " Have I been very selfish ? " she exclaimed, 
 repentantly. " How could you let me go on so? 
 You see, I have always had hard work believ- 
 ing that you really cared, and I had lost sight 
 of the fact altogether now. Besides, I felt that 
 you must know about him what he is like. 
 Forgive me if I have hurt you." She got up 
 and, standing beside him, put both her arms 
 around his head and drew it to her shoulder. 
 
 " It is nothing," he said hastily. " I wanted 
 to know. I could not be content not to know. 
 Besides, I have n't fully realised this thing yet, 
 that I am to lose you just when I see what 
 
Richard Receives a Blow 267 
 
 it would be to have you. I can't quite take it 
 in, and I feel a sort of objective interest in the 
 case, as if it were some other fellow it had hap- 
 pened to. Besides, I like to know that you can 
 feel so. It is a great consolation to know, once 
 for all, that you are worthy of all I have suf- 
 fered, of all I have yet to suffer, for you. Here, 
 sit down. You must n't stand. You are too 
 tired. Sit down close to me. You won't mind 
 for once, this last time ?" He put his arm 
 around her as she sat by him, leaning against 
 the foot-board of the bed. ' ' You have no idea 
 how I have loved you, Evelyn," he went on 
 quietly. " And you will never know. It has 
 all turned out unfortunately for me ; but I do 
 not see that I have been to blame, except, 
 perhaps, in letting you know what I ought to 
 have kept to myself until I had solved my 
 doubts." 
 
 " And that was n't your fault. I would n't 
 let you keep it to yourself," she put in. 
 
 " Perhaps I ought to have known by intui- 
 tion what I now feel to be true about you so 
 strongly that I can't conceive how I could have 
 been blind to it; but you must acknowledge 
 that appearances were against you. And, 
 after all, if I have been to blame for my cau- 
 tion (it has always seemed to me that it was 
 wicked not to consult one's head as well as 
 
268 The Things that Count 
 
 one's heart in such matters), it is I alone who 
 have to pay the penalty. It has not hurt 
 you." 
 
 " No; except that it would probably have 
 been for my happiness to marry you." 
 
 " Ah, but j'ou don't really think that! " 
 
 " No ; I only know it," she answered honest- 
 ly. "Of course I prefer How could I think 
 of saying such a cruel thing! " she broke off, 
 burying her face in his shoulder. ' There is 
 no feeling on earth that makes one so selfish 
 and inconsiderate," she added apologetically. 
 
 " Don't mind me," he said soothingly, rest- 
 ing his cheek against her hair. Evelyn re- 
 leased herself, and sat up straight. 
 
 ;< How terribly unconventional this is! " she 
 exclaimed. " Would n't the Van Horns be 
 shocked, and all well-regulated people, at the 
 idea of my loving one man and doing such 
 things with another ? I think that I take things 
 in a more simple way than most people ; for it 
 seems so natural and innocent to be a little 
 affectionate with you. It seems no more 
 wrong to me than if you were another woman. 
 Ours has always been such a nice, clean rela- 
 tion. The atmosphere has always been pure. 
 And it seems more innocent to treat you, a 
 man such as you are, in this way than to let a 
 man like that odious Mr. Little shake hands 
 
Richard Receives a Blow 269 
 
 with me. Of course, I should n't do it if I 
 were bound in the slightest degree to anyone 
 else," she added. 
 
 " Your affection is very sweet and consoling 
 to me," he answered sadly. ' It is a comfort 
 to feel that it has n't all gone. I am not heroic 
 enough to demand all or nothing now. I do 
 not suppose we shall ever see each other, but 
 it is a comfort to know that I count for some- 
 thing in your inward, if not in your outward, 
 life. I do not feel it is not that you have 
 changed, that you care for me less, but 
 simply " 
 
 1 That I care for him more," she finished, as 
 he stopped. " I have n't said much about it, 
 for fear of sounding patronising; but I am 
 very fond of you, Richard," she continued, a 
 second later. " I shall be all my life. You 
 can count on that. I am of an affectionate 
 nature, and very constant." She stopped and 
 listened to the Doctor's decided tread as he 
 went down the stairs outside. " How long he 
 has stayed ! " she remarked. 
 
 ' How that man has power to move you!" 
 Richard exclaimed, rising and looking down at 
 her. ' You were like a different person when 
 he was in the room. You were so intensely 
 present." 
 
 ' Yes," she answered. " I forget everything 
 
270 The Things that Count 
 
 else in the world, and I seem to live twice as 
 fast." 
 
 " Do you think he knows ? " he asked, with 
 suppressed emotion. 
 
 " He has never shown that he does; but I 
 don't see how he can help it. Still, I have 
 never let go of myself before as I did this after- 
 noon. T never see him alone more than a few 
 minutes at a time; but it did n't seem to mat- 
 ter with you 4 and you had to know it anyway. 
 Mother and Clara and Mrs. Pinkerton don't 
 seem to have the faintest suspicion. By the 
 way, I was forgetting to tell you : Clara is to 
 be married to Charley Strong, the young man 
 you met here, this coming week." 
 
 " She is! What do you think of it ? " 
 
 " I think it 's a very good thing. He is 
 steady, and doing well in his profession, and 
 they seem fond of each other, if he is a goose. 
 There will be no wedding guests, naturally. 
 They are going to Atlantic City for a week, and 
 then are going to settle down in two rooms in 
 New York. Charley's married sister offered 
 them her rooms rent free until next Septem- 
 ber; and that was what decided them." 
 
 " I should n't think Clara would go away 
 now, with your mother so ill, for any con- 
 sideration. It is not fair on you," Richard 
 exclaimed indignantly. 
 
Richard Receives a Blow 271 
 
 " Neither should I," said Evelyn quietly; 
 " but they seem to see it differently. My 
 mother has had a good deal to do with it. 
 Fond as she is of Clara, she is very anxious 
 that they should be married immediately. 
 You see, she has a great idea of the young 
 man's charms, and I think she is afraid it might 
 fall through if they waited too long. Is n't it 
 funny ? " she broke off with a laugh. 
 
 " That seems to settle it rather definitely 
 that you are to stay here for the present, 
 does n't it ? " 
 
 " Do you think I would go away if I could? " 
 she demanded with a smile. " I told you a 
 lie, Richard, when I said that it was my con- 
 science that kept me here. Of course I should 
 have stayed under any circumstances; but as 
 it was " she paused abruptly, evidently real- 
 ising that her revelations could not be pleasing 
 to him. 
 
 ' What are you going to put on the floor ? " 
 he asked presently, with an abrupt change of 
 subject. 
 
 Nothing for the present. The carpet was 
 past cleaning, and I have n't any money. 
 Mother will be disgusted when she sees the 
 room without carpet and curtains; but I 
 could n't help it. They were too far gone, 
 and Dr. Gardner (her voice sounded a little 
 
272 The Things that Count 
 
 conscious as she spoke his name) was always 
 telling me how unwholesome they were. For- 
 tunately, summer is coming." 
 
 " Let me send you a big rug and some cur- 
 tains. You can't be proud with me, Evelyn," 
 he added, as she hesitated. 
 
 ' That is n't it ; but, you see, I have always 
 taken so many things from people, and I am 
 disgusted with the whole idea. I want to be 
 perfectly independent for once." 
 ' Do let me," he pleaded. 
 
 " If you will send the bill with them, and let 
 me pay you when I can, I will ; not otherwise." 
 
 " Very well. Then I suppose I must count 
 the cost." 
 
 ' Yes, indeed. Mother will be so pleased. 
 To tell the truth, I felt nervous about bringing 
 her back. And it was a problem -what to do 
 about the wedding. I thought I 'd have to 
 hire some rugs and curtains, if one can do that 
 sort of thing." 
 
 " And how long does the Doctor think it 
 will be before Mrs. Smith is out again ? " 
 Richard asked. 
 
 " He does n't say. She does n't appear very 
 ill now, but he does not seem quite easy about 
 her." 
 
 " And how are you going to get along with- 
 out Clara's money ? " he asked a second later. 
 
Richard Receives a Blow 273 
 
 " I shall manage some way. Mother has a 
 tiny little income, the interest of a life insur- 
 ance policy that her father left her, and we 
 shall get along with that and my money. We 
 shall give up the room Clara has now, as I have 
 to sleep on the sofa here, anyway." Richard 
 looked at his watch. 
 
 " Do you know that it is half-past six ? I 
 have been here four hours and a half. I will 
 send those things over to-morrow morning by 
 an expressman I know. His name is Reilly, 
 and he used to be janitor in one of Mr. At- 
 water's buildings. He is a very handy sort of 
 fellow, and will do anything you want him to. 
 Good-by." 
 
 " Good-by," said Evelyn. They shook 
 hands as calmly as if he had been paying her 
 a formal afternoon's call. 
 
 He left the room without another word. 
 The afternoon had been so emotional that they 
 were both tired out, and dreaded any further 
 show of feeling. 
 
 18 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 , THE DOCTOR 
 
 THE next day at about noon an express 
 waggon-load of things drove up to the 
 door. There was one very large blue-and- 
 white ingrain rug, with a smaller one to put 
 by the bed, three pairs of muslin curtains, 
 some portieres of very heavy blue-and-white 
 striped cotton, two for the alcove, and one for 
 the washstand, with a long arm-like bracket to 
 hang it on, two table-covers, a mantel scarf, 
 all in wash material, and a screen covered with 
 a flowery buff chintz. This was to screen off 
 the kitchen department, in which Evelyn had 
 substituted a gas for a coal-oil stove. There 
 were also half-a-dozen potted plants, and a can 
 of floor stain, warranted to dry in half-an-hour, 
 which Reilly had instructions to put on for 
 her. The bill was enclosed in a sealed en- 
 velope, which Richard, in a note, begged her 
 to burn unopened. The plants, at least, were 
 his present. She could not refuse those. 
 274 
 
The Doctor 275 
 
 Mrs. Smith was so comfortable that day that 
 Evelyn was able to leave her alone a great deal. 
 Consequently, by five o'clock she had the 
 satisfaction of seeing the room in perfect order, 
 with the bed freshly made for her mother's re- 
 moval the next morning. The floor seemed 
 perfectly dry, but Evelyn would not run any 
 risks. She felt a great sense of relief, for she 
 had dreaded the prospect of bringing her 
 mother back to the denuded room. Mrs. 
 Smith never liked her changes, and had pro- 
 tested vigorously against the spring cleaning; 
 but the Doctor was on Evelyn's side, and his 
 word was law. It often seemed hard to Eve- 
 lyn that everything she did should be wrong 
 in her mother's eyes, and everything Clara did, 
 right. There was some fault to find with 
 every delicate little dish she cooked, while Mrs. 
 Smith ate uncomplainingly the most uninviting 
 mess of Clara's. Of course, the reason was 
 plain : this was the mother's way of resenting 
 the criticism of herself and her ways which she 
 could not help feeling in her daughter's atti- 
 tude, although Evelyn did her best not to 
 show it. 
 
 When the room was finished, she brought 
 Mrs. Pinkerton up to see it. It was really 
 very attractive. Fortunately, the bed was 
 quite presentable, of white enamelled iron ; and 
 
276 The Things that Count 
 
 the bureau, on which she had put a clean white 
 linen cover, was unobtrusive; while the sofa- 
 bed and chairs were hidden under fresh linen 
 covers. The only objectionable feature left 
 were some artistic attempts on the walls, of 
 which Evelyn did not dare dispose. Mrs. 
 Pinkerton was as enthusiastic as could be de- 
 sired, and insisted on calling up Miss Stevens, 
 the dressmaker on the first floor, to admire 
 too. She, in turn, called her three sewing- 
 girls, and old Mr. Bentley, of the floor above, 
 happened to go by and stopped in ; so Evelyn 
 had quite a house-warming. 
 
 When Mrs. Smith was moved in the next 
 morning, she had n't a criticism to make, 
 which Evelyn felt to be quite an achievement. 
 She accepted the new furnishings simply and 
 without a question, Evelyn's financial arrange- 
 ments being always somewhat of a mystery to 
 her. She lay quiet for some time, looking 
 around her with satisfaction. 
 
 " Well, I must say it is pretty," she said at 
 length, and Evelyn felt more than repaid for 
 all her hard work. Clara came home that 
 night laden with gifts from her fellow shop- 
 girls (it had been her last day at the store), and 
 they had rather a festive little supper in the 
 clean new room. 
 
 Three days later Clara was married. There 
 
The Doctor 277 
 
 was no one present except Charley's married 
 sister and her husband, his only near relatives. 
 There was no wedding breakfast of any kind. 
 Evelyn had wanted to make some sandwiches 
 and coffee, but the Doctor had heard of her 
 project and had talked Mrs. Smith into object- 
 ing to it. 
 
 Whatever their faults were, Clara and her 
 mother were sincerely fond of each other, and 
 parted with a great deal of real regret. 
 
 It was a relief to Evelyn to have the 
 house-cleaning and the wedding over, and to 
 settle down to her regular duties as nurse. 
 She was so tired that it often seemed to her 
 that she got up more tired than she went to 
 bed. Then, although her mother made as few 
 demands upon her as possible, Evelyn was 
 always up at least four or five times during the 
 night to do something for her. 
 
 The week after Clara was married, Mrs. 
 Smith, whose condition had been about the 
 same for some time, grew suddenly worse. 
 The Doctor, who had continued to be anxious 
 about her, came two or three times a day. He 
 did not try to hide from Evelyn that she was 
 in a very critical condition. Her disease had 
 affected her heart. Wednesday night Evelyn 
 did not go to bed at all, and early Thursday 
 morning her mother died. The Doctor was 
 
278 The Things that Count 
 
 with her at the time. She did not suffer at all 
 at the last, and died in her sleep. Evelyn tele- 
 graphed for Clara and her husband, and the 
 funeral took place on Saturday. Clara wanted 
 her to come home with them after it was 
 over; they would make a bed for her in their 
 parlour. Evelyn was very grateful, it was 
 something that she had not expected, but she 
 did not accept. She went back with Mrs. 
 Pinkerton, and went immediately to bed in 
 the little hall bedroom which had been hers 
 originally. The sense of death was too fresh 
 in her mother's room. 
 
 She went to sleep early, but woke at mid- 
 night, and lay awake the rest of the night in a 
 state of intense nervous suffering. Every muscle 
 in her body ached with fatigue, and yet she could 
 not keep still, but turned and twisted every 
 minute. She kept imagining that her mother 
 called her, and starting up in nervous haste. 
 She was still wide awake when Mrs. Pinkerton 
 brought her some breakfast, which she could 
 hardly touch. Mrs. Pinkerton's cooking was 
 never good, and Evelyn did not feel equal now 
 to the mental effort necessary to eat it. Her one 
 hope or desire in life was that Dr. Gardner 
 would come to see her; and as the morning 
 wore away without him, she was so disap- 
 pointed that she began to cry, and, once started, 
 
The Doctor 279 
 
 she could not stop. Her head was burning; 
 cold shivers were running up and down her 
 spine; she had a feeling of intense physical 
 misery added to an acute sense of her forlorn- 
 ness. Practical questions disturbed her. She 
 had pledged away four or five months' income 
 of her own and her mother's (which now be- 
 longed to Clara) in payment of the funeral and 
 other expenses, and she awoke to a realisation 
 that she had nowhere to go, and nothing to 
 live on. And if she were going to be ill, as 
 seemed probable, what on earth should she do ? 
 
 Finally, at about five she fell into a little 
 doze, from which she was awakened by a 
 familiar voice at the door saying: 
 
 ' May I come in ? " 
 
 " Oh, come in," she called gladly, wide 
 awake in a second. 
 
 4 Well, how are you ? Mrs. Pinkerton tells 
 me that I have a patient in you," Dr. Gardner 
 said, sitting down beside the bed. 
 
 14 I thought you had forgotten all about me," 
 Evelyn said reproachfully, the tears coming 
 into her eyes. 
 
 ;< My poor child! I could n't come before. 
 I had an operation to perform this morning, 
 and I have been busy ever since." 
 
 ' How was it ? Was it successful ?" she 
 asked, interested in all that concerned him. 
 
280 The Things that Count 
 
 ' Yes, I think so, very. Here, give me 
 your hand, not that one, the left. I don't 
 want to hold your hand ; I want to feel your 
 pulse." 
 
 How should I know which hand ? I never 
 had my pulse felt in my life before." 
 
 " Really ? It 's time you had then. But 
 you have seen me feel your mother's often 
 enough." 
 
 But, you see, I never am very sure as to 
 which is the right and which the left." 
 
 " Did it ever occur to you that those are 
 terms which it is impossible to define abso- 
 lutely ?" the Doctor asked. 'You can say, 
 ' When you face the north, the east is on your 
 right hand ' ; but nothing more precise than 
 that. Now keep still a little, and I '11 take 
 your temperature at the same time. You have 
 a little fever," he said, when he had gone over 
 to the washstand and washed his thermometer. 
 
 " My head is so hot," she complained. He 
 laid his hand on it. 
 
 " That is because you have been crying. 
 Here, this will feel good." 
 
 He took out a big, clean handkerchief and, 
 wetting it, laid it on her forehead. ' You 
 have n't been sleeping, I see, and Mrs. Pinker- 
 ton tells me you have n't been eating." 
 
 " I think that I could eat if I had something 
 
The Doctor 281 
 
 a little more appetizing; but I don't know how 
 to get it." 
 
 " Do you know what I am going to do with 
 you ? " 
 
 " No," Evelyn answered, her eyes lighting 
 up like a child's at the idea of his doing any- 
 thing at all with her. 
 
 ' This is a cold, dreary little box, and there 
 is nobody to take care of you. Mrs. Pinkerton 
 has more than she can do already. I am going 
 to send Mrs. Gordon over for you immediately, 
 and take you over to my house. She always 
 keeps a room ready, and likes nothing better 
 than for me to bring one of my patients home. 
 You shall have some supper, and then I will 
 give you something to make you sleep ; and 
 there will be a different story to-morrow. 
 Don't try to get up till Mrs. Gordon comes to 
 help you." Evelyn began to cry, she was so 
 happy at the prospect. 
 
 I am such a baby," she said apologetically. 
 ' You do seem very youthful to-day. Per- 
 haps because you have your hair in a pigtail, 
 and all this lace and ribbon looks infantile." 
 
 " Is n't it ridiculous for a girl in my posi- 
 tion ?" said Evelyn. !< But I have n't any- 
 thing else. All my clothes are like this, and 
 the getting them washed here has been a 
 serious problem. I must make some plain 
 
282 The Things that Count 
 
 nightgowns when I get well. They shall not 
 have even a tuck. I wonder that I did n't realise 
 before how ridiculous they were for a girl in 
 my position; but I thought that I had to have 
 the things that my friends had. Do you know, 
 I^don't think I have ever realised what my po- 
 sition really was until I came here. I am afraid 
 I must have seemed absurd sometimes." 
 
 " I guess not," said the Doctor concisely. 
 
 14 I think my name is so typical of my life," 
 she went on, as he appeared interested " Eve- 
 lyn Smith. There has been a good deal of 
 Evelyn in it so far; but now it is all plain Smith 
 and looks as if it were going to keep on being 
 so." 
 
 ' You may have a chance to change it for 
 Jones or Robinson," suggested the Doctor. 
 
 " Nothing could induce me to do it. My 
 name has been a real cross to me all my life, 
 and I prefer the evils that I know. Still, to 
 go back a little; it did n't seem sensible to go 
 without things just for the fitness of it. I was 
 always having lace given me, for instance, and 
 the material for underclothes costs so little, 
 and I made them myself; and pretty things 
 always give me a satisfaction more intense than 
 it would be possible for you to understand. 
 My dislike for ugly, common things is some- 
 thing that I can't get over. It has been my 
 
The Doctor 283 
 
 ruination, and has made me lose sight of things 
 of infinitely more consequence. I can't put 
 my head on a cotton pillow-case, or eat off a 
 plated fork, without remembering how I hate 
 it. I never get used to such things." 
 
 1 You won't have those things to bother you 
 at my house." 
 
 ' Why, I should n't imagine that you knew 
 the difference between linen and cotton, unless 
 it were for bandages." 
 
 Wait until you see my house. You 've 
 never been in it, have you ? " 
 
 " No; Mrs. Gordon asked me to come and 
 see her, but I have been too busy." 
 
 " I am very proud of it. You see Mrs. Gor- 
 don was housekeeper in a great house in Scot- 
 land when she was younger, and she has ideals 
 which I am expected to live up to." 
 
 " I think she is lovely," said Evelyn. 
 
 I don't see how I could get along without 
 her now," said the Doctor. ' I have n't given 
 one thought to my house for fifteen years. 
 She engages the servants, pays the bills, and 
 runs everything for about one third of what I 
 could do it on and with very indifferent results. 
 It is impossible for me to board, my hours 
 are so irregular; and, besides, I must have a 
 place to gather in sick kittens and stray dogs " 
 (he smiled at her as he said this), " and I 
 
284 The Things that Count 
 
 simply could n't manage to look after it my- 
 self." 
 
 " How did you find each other ? " Evelyn 
 asked. 
 
 " It was sixteen years ago, when she first 
 came to this country to live with a married 
 daughter, her only child. Her daughter was 
 expecting a child, and I was attending her. 
 Well, to cut a long and painful story short, 
 when she had been here two weeks, there was 
 an accident in the factory where her daughter's 
 husband was foreman, and he was killed. The 
 child was born prematurely, and both it and 
 the daughter died. Mrs. Gordon had a little 
 money, but she was utterly alone in the world. 
 I was just about to set up housekeeping then, 
 and wanted a housekeeper, so I suggested her 
 coming to me. She did not think she was 
 strong enough, for she had left her place in 
 Scotland on account of ill health; but I found 
 out what was the matter, performed a serious 
 operation upon her, and now she is a vigorous 
 woman ." 
 
 " I don't wonder she is so devoted to you," 
 said Evelyn. 
 
 " I think she is as fond of me as if I were 
 her son. Indeed, she treats me a little like 
 one; which is amusing, considering that she 
 is n't ten years older than I." 
 
The Doctor 285 
 
 " How old are you ? I suppose you are not 
 sensitive on the subject," said Evelyn. 
 
 " I shall be forty-nine next September." 
 
 " I did n't think you were so old. I am 
 twenty-six." 
 
 ' You look sixteen to-day. I have to keep 
 remembering that you are a grown-up young 
 lady. I want to pet you." 
 
 " I wish you would forget it, then. There is 
 nobody needs a little more than I do. You 
 are very fond of children, are n't you ? I 
 notice that all the kids on the street know 
 you." 
 
 ' Yes, children and animals and sick 
 people." 
 
 " And flowers. I am so glad I am ill," she 
 added. 
 
 " Don't you like them; children, I mean ? " 
 he asked. She hesitated. 
 
 It seems unwomanly not to. I never 
 have been fond of them in general. I have 
 had some such unpleasant experiences with 
 spoiled ones ; but it has often occurred to me 
 lately of late years, I mean that I might 
 have a surprisingly intense feeling for children 
 of my own." 
 
 ' I am sure you would. But I have n't any 
 business to stay here talking with you. I have 
 two visits yet to make. Mrs. Gordon will be 
 
286 The Things that Count 
 
 over in ten minutes after you. I '11 see you 
 later on." 
 
 It seemed like the fulfilment of a day-dream 
 to Evelyn when she found herself in a soft bed 
 between linen sheets in a big front room at the 
 Doctor's. A little wood fire was blazing away 
 on the brass andirons on the open hearth. It 
 was a very pretty room, with its clean white 
 curtains and fresh matting just put down for 
 summer, its shiny old mahogany bedstead, and 
 dressing-table and chiffonier to match, with 
 glittering brass handles. It had evidently been 
 recently papered and painted. The room, and 
 the glimpse of the house which she caught as 
 she came through it, had been a surprise to 
 Evelyn ; though not so much so as it would 
 have been before she knew Mrs. Gordon. It 
 was all evidently her doing, for its prettiness 
 was of an Old World rather than a New World 
 model. Evelyn's nervous restlessness was all 
 gone, and she felt tranquilly content as she 
 waited for her supper with something that was 
 almost an appetite. 
 
 Presently a neat maid came up with a tray, 
 which she set on a little invalid's table stand- 
 ing ready by the bed. Mrs. Gordon followed 
 with a decanter of sherry. 
 
 "How good it looks!" Evelyn exclaimed 
 when the covers were removed, and she saw the 
 
The Doctor 287 
 
 broiled chicken, creamed potato, and hot toast. 
 There was also some apricot marmalade, and 
 some delicious home-made spice-cake; but her 
 appetite gave out before she got to those. 
 
 " Now, I must go down and see to the Doc- 
 tor's supper, he said that he would be in 
 early to-night and then I will come up and 
 put your things away for you," Mrs. Gordon 
 said, when Evelyn could eat no more. 
 
 " You are so kind/' said Evelyn. " Can't 
 the maid do it ? What is her name ? " 
 
 :< No; I prefer to. Her name is Maria, and 
 I call her so; but the Doctor does n't like it. 
 He says she is too nice a girl to have such a 
 hideous name, so he calls her Gwendolen." 
 
 "How ridiculous!" exclaimed Evelyn, laugh- 
 ing. 
 
 " That 's his droll little way. He calls me 
 Mrs. John Knox, and the cook Artemisia, be- 
 cause she spent a whole year's wages in buying 
 a tombstone for her husband. It seems there 
 was an Artemisia who built a grand tomb over 
 her husband. The cook's name is really 
 Carrie." 
 
 Artemisia was Queen of Halicarnassus, 
 and the tomb, the Mausoleum, is one of the 
 seven wonders of the world ; and that is the 
 only reason that I know anything about it, be- 
 cause I had to learn them at school. And 
 
288 The Things that Count 
 
 how do Maria and Carrie like being re- 
 christened ? " 
 
 " My dear, you will find that anything Dr. 
 Gardner wants to do in this house is perfectly 
 satisfactory," Mrs. Gordon declared solemnly, 
 leaving the room with the tray in her hands. 
 
 Before long Evelyn heard the Doctor come 
 in and whistle for his dogs. Three quarters of 
 an hour later, Mrs. Gordon came up-stairs 
 again, announcing that the Doctor would be 
 up as soon as he had finished his cigar. Eve- 
 lyn tried to make her talk as she put away her 
 belongings in the closet and drawers, but it was 
 not easy. She had a certain native reticence 
 that she seldom broke through. Evelyn had 
 seen a great deal of her during her mother's 
 illness, as the Doctor had often sent Mrs. Gor- 
 don over with things for his patient to eat. 
 Mrs. Smith had always disliked to have her 
 come into her room, so Evelyn had been es- 
 pecially cordial to make up for it. 
 
 ' That woman hates me. I always feel it ; 
 and besides, Mrs. Powers told me so," Mrs. 
 Smith would say every time she came. She 
 and Mrs. Gordon were old acquaintances, 
 through their common interest in the Presby- 
 terian Church; but Mrs. Gordon had always 
 avoided Mrs. Smith. She was anxious to 
 make friends, however, when the latter became 
 
The Doctor 289 
 
 ill, but Mrs. Smith was ungracious. Evelyn 
 felt that Mrs. Gordon had started with a preju- 
 dice against her, as being her mother's daughter ; 
 but that had worn away long ago, and Mrs. Gor- 
 don now showed a quiet liking for her in her un- 
 demonstrative Scotch fashion. As Evelyn came 
 to know her better, she was struck by the ab- 
 sence of certain national characteristics in her. 
 She was generous, for instance; would give 
 away anything or everything she possessed, and 
 she was not at all obstinate. Evelyn heard her 
 own herself in the wrong more than once, which 
 was certainly not a Scotch trait. The two de- 
 votions of her life were her church and the 
 Doctor, and her great sorrow that she could 
 not make the two amalgamate. She was a 
 woman of high principles and strong affections, 
 but her life had lain so continuously in the 
 shadow that she had no faith in sunshine. She 
 had heard that there was such a thing, but 
 did n't really accept the fact. She was gen- 
 erally cheerful in a quiet way on the surface; 
 but if one got her to talk on deeper sub- 
 jects, her unaffected pessimism was very 
 evident. 
 
 May Mavis and Wink come in too ? " the 
 Doctor asked, as he appeared in the doorway, 
 closely followed by a beautiful Scotch collie 
 and a fussy little fox-terrier. 
 
290 The Things that Count 
 
 " Yes, indeed. I have wanted to know them 
 for a long time." 
 
 'You won't find them backward. Don't 
 jump on the bed, you imps, or the lady who 
 bosses us all will be cross to me. Here, Mavis, 
 you can't sit on my knee. You 're too big. I 
 should think you would have learned that by 
 this time. That 's a privilege that you have 
 to leave to Wink. Well, young woman, are 
 you comfortable ? " 
 
 "Oh, so comfortable! Lavender-scented 
 sheets, and a bed with a spring to it, and bed- 
 clothes that are both light and warm are such 
 a refreshing change." 
 
 ' You are a Sybarite ! I say, do you use all 
 those things?" he broke off. Mrs. Gordon 
 was laying Evelyn's toilet articles out on the 
 dressing-table, and he had been watching her. 
 
 ' Those belong to the Evelyn part of me. 
 Show Dr. Gardner my brush, will you please, 
 Mrs. Gordon ? See what a beautiful piece of 
 ivory it is. My aunt gave me the whole set 
 the Christmas before she died. They were 
 very expensive; but I can't sell them on ac- 
 count of the initials, so I might as well use 
 them." 
 
 ' ' I like ivory, ' ' said the Doctor. "It always 
 reminds me of the Queen of Sheba." 
 
 " And is that why you like it ? Make Mrs. 
 
The Doctor 291 
 
 Gordon sit down, won't you ? I am so grate- 
 ful to her." 
 
 ;< I can't unless I use force. Persuasion has 
 no effect. Sometimes I take her by her shoul- 
 ders, and literally make her sit down; but she 
 bobs up again in a minute. She has an anti- 
 quated, Old World notion that she is doing me 
 some honour by tiring those poor old feet of 
 hers that she has used all day in my service." 
 There was an affectionate kindliness in his 
 words that brought tears to Evelyn's eyes, 
 which she turned away so that he should not 
 see them. " If she 'd only kneel in my pre- 
 sence, or salaam, there 'd be some real satisfac- 
 tion to me in it," he added more lightly. Mrs. 
 Gordon received his words with the quiet smile 
 with which she greeted all his remarks, as Eve- 
 lyn came to know later. She never attempted 
 any answer to his little jokes at her expense. 
 Now she quietly left the room with an amusing 
 little duck of her knees, the probable survival 
 of a curtsey, at the door. 
 
 " But the Queen of Sheba ? " Evelyn de- 
 manded, when she had shut the door behind 
 her. 
 
 ' When I was a boy, I lived on a farm in 
 New Hampshire, as I have probably told you 
 more than once." 
 
 " No, you have n't," she put in. 
 
292 The Things that Count 
 
 ' You know it now, then. Well, I was crazy 
 about books: I told you that, any way?" 
 Evelyn nodded. " And it was very few that 
 I got to read. Consequently, I used to read 
 the Bible (I had to have something), and the 
 parts about Solomon and the building of the 
 temple had a great fascination for me, just as 
 later I was fascinated by the Song of Solomon. 
 I used to wonder about the precious stones by 
 the hour. And, to this day, I never go by a 
 jeweler's window or see a piece of ivory with- 
 out remembering it." 
 
 " Tell me about your life when you were a 
 boy," she pleaded, with flattering interest. 
 
 " There was n't much to tell, just the usual 
 starved life of a New England boy on a farm. 
 I went to the Academy at Revere, a town 
 three miles away, in winter, and worked on the 
 farm in summer. I was always determined to 
 study medicine. I used to doctor all the ani- 
 mals for miles around before I was fifteen, and 
 finally I managed to save up enough money to 
 come down to New York and enter a medical 
 school. They would n't have let me in nowa- 
 days with so little book-learning. I did night- 
 work in a stable for my board and lodging and 
 a dollar a week. In the daytime, in winter, in 
 order to keep warm, I used to study in the 
 clean straw of a box stall with a fine roadster 
 
The Doctor 293 
 
 who was boarded at the stable. How my 
 clothes must have smelled ! I wonder they let 
 me in the lectures; but I don't remember any 
 remarks being made about -it." 
 
 " How badly you must have wanted it!" 
 said Evelyn. 
 
 " I did. I was very ambitious in those days. 
 And after I got my diploma I worked in the 
 hospitals for a long time, and then I went 
 abroad to study for two years; and after that I 
 had an opening here, and I came, and have 
 been here ever since. There, you have my 
 autobiography. 
 
 " I often wonder why you don't go to New 
 York," said Evelyn. 
 
 " Oh, this suits me. I shall die here." 
 " Do you never take a vacation ? " 
 " I go up to the old farm for a week every 
 summer. My nephew and his wife live there. 
 By the way, the furniture in this room came 
 from the old place. My brother insisted on 
 my taking it after my father died. You see, I 
 had no use for the farm or live stock. I hated 
 to take it away; but his wife had some furni- 
 ture of her own that she wanted room for." 
 
 I have been wondering about it," said 
 Evelyn. 
 
 It was in my mother's room. I was born 
 in that bed." 
 
294 The Things that Count 
 
 " I should think you would want it in your 
 own room," she suggested. 
 
 I would, only it is more convenient for me 
 to sleep downstairs,- and this bed is too big for 
 my room." 
 
 I like its being open at the foot, so that I 
 can see the fire. The dogs on the hearthrug, 
 with their noses on their paws, are such a 
 pretty picture, and the dark twisted mahogany 
 posts make such an appropriate frame." 
 
 How the look of things does appeal to 
 you ! " said the Doctor. " I was brought up to 
 think that nothing mattered but conduct. It 
 was such a dreary doctrine, and I was impatient 
 under it long before my mind rebelled at the 
 needless restraint of it all. I remember think- 
 ing, when I was only ten or eleven, that if I ever 
 got away from the farm, I would never enter a 
 church again ; and I almost never have. The 
 hopelessness of a New England Sunday, and 
 the struggle between Puritan repression and 
 the instincts of youth, what a hideous mistake 
 it has all been ! I have my nephew down to 
 visit me sometimes, and I take him over to New 
 York, and to all the theatres, and I paint the 
 town red for him generally ; and I send his wife, 
 who is a great reader, all the modern books, I 
 am so afraid of their bringing their children up 
 on the old plan. I never see that bed that I 
 
The Doctor 295 
 
 don't remember one little incident," he con- 
 tinued. ' I was ten, and I did something 
 desperately wicked : read Robinson Crusoe on 
 Sunday, it was. I was caught red-handed, 
 and my mother took me into her room and 
 made me kneel down by it. ' Thomas,' she 
 said severely, 'pray to your Creator to change 
 your wicked heart, and to lead you into the 
 ways of righteousness and peace,' and she stood 
 over me with a switch in her hand until I did 
 say something of the sort, and then she applied 
 the switch." 
 
 How perfectly dreadful! " exclaimed Eve- 
 lyn. " But is your name Thomas ? I did n't 
 know what the T stood for. I can't imagine 
 you a Tom." 
 
 I never was, at home. It was always 
 Thomas in full. I think my parents would 
 have expected it to affect my character if they 
 had called me by anything so light and frivo- 
 lous as Tom." 
 
 ' Tell me something more about your 
 mother," she asked, fascinated, as a woman 
 always is, by the idea of the mother of the 
 man she loves. 
 
 ;< I remember nothing that was n't stern. 
 She was intensely religious, and cold, and hard. 
 She was avaricious, too. I often .fancy that 
 my father would have been very different if it 
 
296 The Things that Count 
 
 had n't been for her influence. She dominated 
 him." 
 
 " It must be lovely to have had a mother 
 with whom one was in sympathy," Evelyn said 
 with a sigh. The Doctor laid his hand on hers 
 for a second, and then took it away. 
 
 I like your honesty so much," he said. 
 ;< I like your courage in not pretending that 
 your mother's death was a great grief to you." 
 
 I envied Clara that she really cared," she 
 answered slowly. " And I am thoroughly 
 glad that I had this chance to do something 
 for my mother before she died ; but I never 
 had a particle of affection for her. You are so 
 above conventional humbug that you won't 
 be shocked at my saying that I disliked her; 
 and yet, do you know, at first I missed her: 
 missed the things I had to do for her. Now 
 I feel only a sense of relief that I shall not 
 have the strain of a relation that was near only 
 in name. We were utterly uncongenial, and 
 I sometimes felt that she hated me. Of 
 course, I would n't say what I have said to 
 any one but you. I shall wear a black gown 
 in the street, and pay every outward respect 
 to her memory; but I most certainly shall not 
 pretend that it is a great grief to me. It was 
 a shock, as death always is, and nothing more. ' ' 
 
 How old were you when you went to live 
 
The Doctor 297 
 
 with your aunt?" he asked. 'Tell me 
 something about yourself. I have told you 
 my uneventful history." 
 
 " With big hiatuses. You have left out all 
 the interesting chapters." 
 
 " What, for instance ?" 
 
 " About the time when you read the Song 
 of Solomon, for one." 
 
 " Oh, you woman! It was n't interesting. 
 Still, you needn't leave out those parts in your 
 narrative." 
 
 " I shall follow your example. My ambi- 
 tions will seem so petty to you," she continued 
 soberly. " My life has not been a dignified 
 one; still, I should like to have you know 
 about it. It will help you understand why I fall 
 short in so many ways. I believe I had it in me 
 to be a good deal of a woman originally. If only 
 both my names had been of the same kind! " 
 
 " It is not too late for you to make anything 
 you wish of yourself," the Doctor remarked 
 gravely. 
 
 Listen. What sort of a life has this been, 
 do you think ? " she asked, going on to tell 
 him her little history, making no attempt to 
 hide anything that was to her disadvantage. 
 She left out the sentimental episodes. 
 
 " And what are you going to do next ? " he 
 asked, when she had finished. 
 
298 The Things that Count 
 
 " I shall stay at Mrs. Pinkerton's for the 
 present. I have n't any money to go away. 
 I have been making some plans. I fancy 
 Miss Stevens, the dressmaker who has the 
 parlours, you know, will be glad to give me 
 some sewing to do. She is very busy now, 
 and she has got into the habit of coming to 
 me for ideas, which is where she falls short. 
 At least, it will be sitting down. I don't feel 
 as if I should ever be without the ache in my 
 legs and hips again." 
 
 ' Just wait two or three days, and see. 
 Well, I suppose you can try that until some- 
 thing better turns up. I will think about it. 
 You won't go back to your old life ? " 
 
 " No, indeed. I must be independent. I 
 must be free. Just think, I have never been 
 free in my life before." 
 
 ' You poor child! Well, it is time you 
 went to sleep now. I hope I have n't excited 
 you ; but I thought it was better for you to 
 talk than to lie here thinking. I am going to 
 send Mrs. Gordon to you with an egg-nog 
 and a powder, and I want you to take both. 
 Good-night." He stretched out his hand to 
 her. Evelyn took it, and laid her cheek against 
 it; then she kissed it and baptized it with a 
 tear at the same time. 
 
 " You are so good to me," she said brokenly. 
 
The Doctor 
 
 299 
 
 The Doctor stooped and kissed her on her 
 forehead : a calm paternal kiss. 
 
 " Good-night, my dear child. Sleep well, 
 and trust in me. I will see that this little 
 sparrow does n't fall to the ground." 
 
 Evelyn went to sleep very happy, although 
 it was impossible to put the construction she 
 would have liked on what he had said and done. 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 THE GATES AJAR 
 
 THE Doctor had ordered Evelyn to stay in 
 bed the next morning, which she was 
 quite content to do. She lay there all day, 
 reading a little, but, for the most part, dozing 
 and day - dreaming and looking forward to 
 evening, when the Doctor was to pay her a 
 visit. He came at half-past seven, but, to her 
 great disappointment, stayed only five minutes. 
 ' You will want to get up to-morrow, I sup- 
 pose," he said just before he left. 
 
 There is no earthly reason why I should 
 not. I have nothing the matter with me, and 
 I am getting rested. I must be horribly strong. 
 Still, I don't want to get up, ^because then I 
 shall feel that I ought to go back to Mrs. 
 Pinkerton's." 
 
 " You need not bother about that. I intend 
 to keep you until Thursday, anyway. Get 
 up, and to-morrow afternoon, if it is pleasant, 
 
 300 
 
The Gates Ajar 3 01 
 
 I '11 take you out with me for a four-mile drive 
 into the country. I have to go and see a 
 patient/' Evelyn's face showed her pleasure. 
 
 The next morning she awoke early, with the 
 excitement of the prospect, and lay watching 
 the sunbeams striking the little leaves on the 
 elms outside her window. It promised to be 
 a glorious day. She sent Maria, alias Gwen- 
 dolen, over to Mrs. Pinkerton's to get a thin 
 black dress of hers. She was dressed and 
 ready long before the Doctor, who had been 
 in New York all day, drove up to the 
 door. 
 
 " Well, did you eat any dinner ? " he asked, 
 when she was seated beside him, and they had 
 driven off behind the pair of fast horses which 
 were his one extravagant taste. 
 
 " An enormous one. I feel fatter already. 
 I am glad, because it is unbecoming to me to 
 be so thin." The Doctor turned and looked 
 at her. " Don't look at me," she protested. 
 ' Unrelieved black is so unbecoming to 
 me." 
 
 1 You have such a faculty of looking dressed 
 up, whatever you wear," he returned. ' Your 
 gown is plain, but it has an air." 
 
 " It is terribly passte. I wore it all last sum- 
 mer, with a green-and-white stock and belt. 
 You just think so, because you never go 
 
302 The Things that Count 
 
 anywhere, or see anything, you poor countri- 
 fied thing," said Evelyn. The Doctor laughed. 
 ' You like to insult me, don't you ? Well, 
 I don't mind, if it amuses you." 
 
 " I would n't do it if I thought you did," 
 she said gently. "I do it the way you call 
 Mavis bad names." 
 
 " I wish I had a daughter like you; or that 
 you were my daughter," he remarked. 
 
 " I don't," she asserted with decision. 
 
 " Why not, I 'd like to know ? I 'd give 
 you all the clothes you wanted." 
 
 " Because I prefer to be on an equality with 
 you. You would think you had a right to put 
 on airs, if you were my father." 
 
 "As the parent of so superior a specimen, I 
 suppose ? " 
 
 ' You can take it that way, if you like. At 
 all events, as it is, there is no reason, no con- 
 ventional reason (that you are such miles 
 above me does n't count, from this point of 
 view), why I should n't treat you like any 
 other man. It would be all right for me to 
 ask you to stop and pick that buttercup for me 
 (the first I have seen this year), or to do any- 
 thing else I wanted you to. If you were my 
 father, I 'd have to wait on you." 
 
 ' You surely have n't the face to ask a man 
 of my age and size, who is driving two young 
 
The Gates Ajar 33 
 
 restless horses, to climb out of a high buggy 
 into a muddy road for a measly little flower 
 like that ? " 
 
 " Oh, your age! What does that amount 
 to ? And you are more active than men half 
 your size; and you know you 'd have got out 
 and got it for yourself if you had seen it. I '11 
 hold the horses. They are cows beside some 
 I have driven." 
 
 4 You may insult me, Madam ; but you must 
 respect my horses," he declared, with mock 
 severity, handing her the reins, and getting out 
 of the buggy. 
 
 It was a glorious spring day. The sun was 
 bright and warm ; but out here, in the country, 
 patches of snow still lingered in the deep hol- 
 lows. The grass was coming up ; the trees were 
 putting forth their little new leaves ; birds were 
 singing on every branch. 
 
 How lovely the old world is to-day!" 
 Evelyn said softly, as he handed her the flower 
 and some ferns that he had found near it. 
 
 Would you mind waiting on me so 
 much ? " he asked, in the tone of one request- 
 ing information, as they were driving along 
 the road again. 
 
 " I should love to ; but I am not going to do 
 it. If I began, all would be lost. You drop 
 into the paternal quite too much as it is, and 
 
304 The Things that Count 
 
 that would put the finishing touch to any 
 hopes I may have of meeting you on the broad 
 human basis of man and woman. I want to 
 be your friend, not your plaything. You treat 
 me like a child sometimes, but I am not a 
 child. I am a woman, and I have the thoughts 
 and feelings of a woman. You need not select 
 your conversation, expurgate it to suit the 
 youthful mind you can say anything you like 
 to me. I can understand any point of view." 
 I have known so few women, except pro- 
 fessionally," he said, half apologetically; "and 
 I have never been in the habit of making 
 friends with them. I have known sick ones 
 almost exclusively, and they are such irrational 
 specimens: so emotional, and so apt to mistake 
 human sympathy and professional interest for 
 something warmer, that I always keep away 
 from the personal with them." 
 
 ' You need not be afraid of that with me," 
 Evelyn said quietly. " I have known men by 
 the hundreds, and I know so well how much 
 appearance there may be without any reality 
 which does n't refer to you in the least. Still, 
 I shall not misunderstand you." 
 
 " But it takes so much time to make friends 
 and I have no time and such large oppor- 
 tunities; and there would n't be any at all in a 
 gossiping little neighbourhood like ours." 
 
The Gates Ajar 35 
 
 " You are mistaken," she contradicted. " It 
 does n't take time. That is a conventional 
 notion : you are full of them in some ways. 
 All the time is for, is to be sure of each other, 
 and circumstances are often a short cut to 
 that. If you and I are not sure of each other 
 now, after the night-watches that we have 
 kept together, off our guard, with no thought 
 of effect or concealment, we never will be. 
 You are sure of me. Whatever I may have 
 been, I shall never be anything but true and 
 loyal to you. I could n't any more help being 
 sincere with you than I could set a Rhine- 
 stone beside a diamond." 
 
 " And how about the opportunities ?" he 
 asked gravely. 
 
 ' There won't be many, but we must make 
 the most of the few that come ; not waste them 
 simply because there are not more of them." 
 ' But it would n't be fair," he protested. 
 
 My life is a full, and yours is an empty one. 
 I am thoroughly absorbed in my work, and I 
 have come to the age when human relations 
 are more or less unessential, while you are 
 young, and the blood runs warm in your veins. 
 It would inevitably come to mean more to you 
 than it does to me. No, my dear girl, it is an 
 attractive prospect; but it won't do. You 
 must stay a couple of days longer with me, 
 
306 The Things that Count 
 
 and we will enjoy those all we can ; and after 
 that you must go your way, and I mine. I 
 cannot honourably enter into a relation which 
 would be friendship for you only in name. 
 Is n't this the truest kindness ? " he asked 
 gently, after a pause in which Evelyn gave no 
 expression to the pain she was feeling, but sat 
 motionless, gazing at the lovely sunshiny 
 country with unseeing eyes. 
 
 ;< I am a pretty woman," she began pre- 
 sently, and her voice was perfectly calm. " I 
 have been told that I was beautiful more than 
 once. I am clever; I am good-tempered; I 
 am affectionate. I know that I have personal 
 charm, and I could love a man as he would 
 dream of being loved. Does all this mean 
 nothing to you ? It is more than most women 
 have." 
 
 " My dear Evelyn, it is twenty years since 
 I looked on a woman to lust after her," he 
 said solemnly, falling into the words of the 
 beautiful old Book, which rise to the lips of us 
 all in the memorable moments of our lives. 
 " 1 have nothing to give to a woman now ex- 
 cept my name, a home, and a little more of the 
 same kind of affection that I give to Mavis. 
 Would that content you ? You would be 
 supremely dissatisfied. And do you think I 
 could reconcile it with my conscience to take 
 
The Gates Ajar 37 
 
 your all and give in exchange the little I have 
 to offer ? No. I have lived alone, and I shall 
 die alone. My eyes shall be closed by a hire- 
 ling. There, my child ; don't cry. Believe 
 me, you will be glad of this very soon. Here, 
 suppose you get out and wait for me till I come 
 back. That is the house over there. I '11 stop 
 at that big stone for you. It will do you good 
 to take a stroll around the fields. This won't 
 make any constraint, will it ? " he asked 
 anxiously. 
 
 How could it ? " she said fervently, raising 
 her eyes full of tears to his. ' You surely 
 don't think that I am small enough to feel any 
 mortification. I hate even to use the word in 
 this connection." 
 
 ' That 's my large-minded girl ! " He put 
 his arm around her, and, drawing her to him, 
 kissed her on her cheek. ' That 's for the 
 daughter I never had," he said, with tears in 
 his own eyes. 
 
 Evelyn sat down on the stone and waited 
 until he was out of sight. Then she started 
 on a hunt for the wild flowers he was so fond 
 of. The tears streamed down her face as she 
 walked ; but he had told her to walk, and his 
 word was law. 
 
 When he came back, three-quarters of an 
 hour later, he found her waiting on the rock, 
 
308 The Things that Count 
 
 apparently quite cheerful and composed, with 
 a large bunch of wild flowers in her hands. 
 They discussed these for a while, not because 
 there was any awkwardness, but because they 
 were both so fond of flowers. 
 
 " How was your patient ?" Evelyn asked 
 presently. 
 
 " She is not my patient, poor woman. Mc- 
 Kenzie wanted a special opinion on her case." 
 
 " Why do you say, ' poor woman'?" she 
 asked. 
 
 " It was because of what she has before her. 
 Nothing can save her but a capital operation, 
 and I do not think it can be successful, she is 
 in such poor condition. Still, it has got to be 
 done immediately. Every day lessens her 
 chances." 
 
 11 When ?" Evelyn asked. 
 
 " To-morrow, at eleven. She is to be 
 brought into the hospital to-night. I would n't 
 risk it at her house. I am to perform it." 
 
 " Diseases of women are your specialty, are 
 they not ? " she asked simply. 
 
 " Yes. Some peculiar circumstances in my 
 life made me feel that there was nothing I 
 wanted to do so much as to lessen their suffer- 
 ings in any way I could. I often refuse other 
 cases, but never a woman who needs me be^ 
 cause of her womanhood." 
 
The Gates Ajar 309 
 
 " I don't understand one thing," Evelyn 
 began presently, after an interval, in which the 
 Doctor seemed lost in thought. "I don't 
 understand how a man can do as much work 
 as you do and yet seem as little rushed. You 
 seldom seem in a hurry, like most doctors." 
 
 " There are two reasons for that. One is 
 that I never undertake any more work than I 
 can do easily and, therefore, well. I send in- 
 numerable cases to other doctors, where there 
 is no need of my special knowledge and ex- 
 perience. Then, I never let one day's work 
 lap over on the next. I finish up each day 
 clean. I don't think a man who is half asleep 
 and is feeling the need of proper food can do 
 justice to a serious case. ' Don't bite off more 
 than you can chew,' that 's my motto, since 
 you like them. By the way, I have started to 
 tell you a dozen times that I met your friend 
 Palmer in New York this morning. I told 
 you what I went for, did n't I ? " 
 
 * Yes, to testify in that will case." 
 
 ;< I went into court, and was surprised to 
 find Palmer there, representing Atherton & 
 Hunt, who are the attorneys for the other 
 heirs. I told him the man was perfectly sane, 
 testified to that effect, and that his clients 
 had n't a leg to stand on. He said that was 
 his own opinion, and I invited him to go to 
 
310 The Things that Count 
 
 lunch with me by way of cementing the friend- 
 ship that is to be. We went, and had a very- 
 pleasant time together; at least, I had. I took 
 a great fancy to him. He was very much 
 shocked to hear of. your mother's death, and 
 concerned that you had not sent him word of 
 it. He wanted me to give you his sincere 
 sympathy." 
 
 " Dear Richard!" Evelyn remarked paren- 
 thetically. 
 
 " I told him that you were staying in my 
 house, and invited him to come to dinner to- 
 morrow night ; but he declined, without giving 
 any reason for it. I did n't press the matter, 
 as I thought I understood it. He is a very 
 fine fellow, Evelyn; very much of a man," he 
 added suggestively. 
 
 " Don't you suppose I know that?" she 
 asked, smiling to herself. 
 
 " What is it ? " he inquired. 
 
 " I was amused at your using the same 
 words about him that he used about you that 
 first afternoon." 
 
 " I liked him thoroughly," he continued. 
 " I don't know when I have been so impressed 
 with a fellow. I had a talk with Hunt about 
 him (he came in before the case was dismissed), 
 and he says he will go far. He told me that 
 Atwater had given them all his business 
 
The Gates Ajar 3 11 
 
 because Palmer was in their office, and under- 
 stood the ins and outs of it." 
 
 ' That is probably the result of his daughter's 
 marriage alliance, I suppose one ought to call 
 it," said Evelyn. 
 
 " What has that to do with it ? " 
 
 " I don't suppose I ought to repeat it; still, 
 everbody knows it, and, of course, I never 
 heard it from Richard. Besides, there is no 
 harm telling you things," and she gave him a 
 short account of Richard's leaving his former 
 employer. 
 
 " I like that, I like that," the Doctor de- 
 clared positively. " It makes me think even 
 better of him." 
 
 " You could n't think too well," she re- 
 sponded. 
 
 " He is in love with you," he asserted. 
 
 " Yes." 
 ' He wants to marry you ? " 
 
 " He does." 
 4 There is no chance of it ? " 
 
 " Not at present naturally," she said, with a 
 little significant laugh. The Doctor laughed too. 
 Perhaps later," he said. 
 I came very near caring for him once," she 
 explained. " But he believed things about me 
 that were not true (he was not to blame), and 
 did not strike while the iron was hot." 
 
The Things that Count 
 
 " And so it cooled off ?" 
 
 ;< Exactly. Do you know Mr. Hunt, or did 
 you just meet him to-day ? " 
 
 " I have known him for some time. I was 
 called into a consultation about the case of his 
 sister, who died about three years ago. It was 
 perfectly hopeless, and I told them so. He is 
 a nice fellow; clever, very clever in his way, 
 but not made of the stuff Palmer is. Is he a 
 friend of yours ? Why do you laugh ? You 
 seem hilarious." 
 
 " Nothing; only I came near marrying him, 
 too." 
 
 " How many more ? " exclaimed the Doctor, 
 in dismay. 
 
 " Only these two from inclination. There 
 were several for other considerations." 
 
 " And you did n't do it ? " 
 
 " Apparently not, since I am still Miss 
 Smith, and he has a wife of his own. I '11 tell 
 you about it. I like to be confidential with 
 you. It is fun confessing my love affairs to a 
 leather-hearted antique ; and so safe. I think 
 I '11 call you Uncle. ' Dr. Gardner ' is so 
 formal, and I suppose you would n't let me 
 call you Tom ? " 
 
 You can if you like, if you don't let Mrs. 
 John Knox hear you. She 'd be scandalised." 
 
 " I don't believe I should dare. I 'd feel 
 
The Gates Ajar 313 
 
 brave about it when you were n't there ; but 
 I 'd fall back on ' I say ' in your bodily pre- 
 sence." 
 
 " Am I so terrifying ? " 
 
 " No, but you are so old." 
 
 " Ah! you are getting even with me! " 
 
 11 Yes; but it 's true, too. It is I who have 
 the advantage of you : I who am young, with 
 life and all its possibilities before me. I can 
 feel, I can love, and I glory in it! What are 
 you ? What is a man who has grown too 
 wise for the only thing that makes life endur- 
 able ? I am far above you. I would not look 
 at you." 
 
 " I could make you come off that horse in 
 about one minute," he exclaimed, an expres- 
 sion that she had never seen before coming 
 into his eyes, and a fire that was the fire of 
 youth showing in every inch of him. They 
 looked straight into each other's eyes for a 
 quarter of a minute; then he dropped his. 
 
 " God help me! " he said fervently, " what 
 am I doing ? I have been tempted of the 
 devil." Evelyn gave a derisive, triumphant 
 laugh, glorying in the exercise of a power that 
 had thrown him off his guard. 
 
 Listen to me, Evelyn," he continued 
 sadly. ' There might be, there would be, 
 moments when you could move me; but after 
 
3H The Things that Count 
 
 I had been away from you a short half-hour, 
 you would find that I was the same leather- 
 hearted antique. No woman could gain more 
 than a momentary hold over me now. That 
 is as true as truth. Don't tempt me.-" 
 
 I am ashamed of myself! " she murmured, 
 turning her face from him. ' My name ought 
 to have stopped before the last syllable; I have 
 so much original sin in me." 
 
 " Ah, that is only mock repentance! You 
 are not really sorry at all. I know you. And 
 you said that you would always be sincere with 
 me! " 
 
 I ought to have said that my better self 
 would always want to be. I might have known 
 that I could n't sit on a stool and keep my 
 frock clean for more than so long. I always 
 slip down and make mud pies." The Doctor 
 laughed. 
 
 ' Tell me about Hunt. We won't talk 
 about you and me any longer," he said. 
 
 " I was a big fool," she added, when she had 
 told her little story with the supplement of its 
 effect on her relations with Richard. " I was 
 a big fool; but I 'm very glad I was. I should 
 not like to have married Arthur Hunt." 
 
 He is an uncommonly nice fellow, and has a 
 future in his profession," protested the Doctor. 
 
 " No doubt; but he is too conventional, too 
 
The Gates Ajar 3 J 5 
 
 cut-and-dried, too limited for me now. He 
 thinks too much of what other people think. 
 There were too many things that he would not 
 have liked to see a wife or a sister of his do 
 such things as going to races, for instance. 
 I 'd never want to go; I think they are the 
 stupidest things on earth ; but I hate taking 
 what you do or don't do so seriously. I did n't 
 mind it then his attitude because I was just 
 about where he was; but it would drive me 
 crazy now." 
 
 ' What set you off on this new tack, this 
 thinking things out for yourself ? " asked the 
 Doctor, with interest. 
 
 I don't know; nothing in particular. It 
 just growed." 
 
 :< I have three visits to make before supper, 
 so you had better not wait for me," he said as 
 he drove up in front of his house. 
 
 ' Why don't you go this evening ? " 
 
 I can't. I have to hold an office hour, to 
 make up for the one I did n't have this morn- 
 ing. Tell Mrs. Gordon not to keep anything 
 hot for me. I had such a late, hearty lunch 
 that I am not hungry. She can give me some- 
 thing to eat after my office hour. Until to- 
 morrow, then." 
 
 In a minute he had become all doctor again, 
 and Evelyn found it hard to believe that she 
 
316 The Things that Count 
 
 had ever roused a responsive spark in him. 
 She was sure that he had forgotten her exist- 
 ence before he had reached the corner. 
 
 She was astonished at herself that she did 
 not fejel more unhappy at the afternoon's 
 occurrences. The truth was that she had felt 
 her love to be hopeless so strongly beforehand 
 that there had been no shock at its being put 
 into words. Then, she was full of the sensa- 
 tion of nearness to him, such as she had never 
 felt before. He had let her come very close, 
 and that was a great joy for all time ; and if he 
 did not love her, he certainly loved no other 
 woman. Then, too, in spite of reason and 
 every other consideration, his momentary loss 
 of self-control had given life to a hope that she 
 could not stifle. Most important of all, nothing 
 could take away the anticipatory delight of two 
 more days of intimate companionship. She 
 would be happy those two days; and, after 
 that, let come what might 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 FURTHER GLIMPSES OF HEAVEN 
 
 ALAS, for anticipations! The next day the 
 Doctor was off before Evelyn was up. 
 He came back for his office hour, but immedi- 
 ately went away again, leaving orders not to 
 wait dinner for him, as he might not be home. 
 He did not appear again till just supper time, 
 and at this meal he was so preoccupied that 
 he hardly seemed to be aware of her existence. 
 Evelyn felt proud and hurt, and made no 
 efforts to attract his attention. Later on, her 
 mood changed, as such moods have a way of 
 doing. She felt that she could not go to bed 
 until she had had a word with him. She went 
 to her room at ten o'clock, but after Mrs. 
 Gordon had gone to bed on the floor above, 
 she went across the hall into the library, a 
 large room which extended all across the back 
 of the second story. This was the Doctor's 
 especial sanctum, and he had given her the 
 
 317 
 
3i8 The Things that Count 
 
 freedom of it. The light was always left lit 
 there for him, so he was sure to come to put it 
 out before he went to bed. 
 
 It was half-past eleven before he came in. 
 Evelyn was sitting in a big leather chair by his 
 study table, making a pretext of reading. 
 
 ' What are you doing up at this hour ? You 
 ought to be in bed," he said, not unkindly, 
 but as if his thoughts were miles away; and, 
 going to the bookcase without waiting for her 
 to answer, he pulled out a big leather-covered 
 volume, found a certain place in it, and began 
 to read diligently without stopping to sit 
 down. 
 
 " Do you mind my being here ? " she asked ; 
 but he paid no attention. 
 
 She sat where she was for five minutes before 
 she decided that her dignity would not allow 
 her to remain another second. She rose to 
 her feet, but before she reached the door the 
 Doctor came to the table and threw his book 
 down upon it with a slam. 
 
 " Are you going ? " he asked indifferently. 
 Evelyn nodded. She did not dare speak, for 
 fear that she should burst into tears. He 
 looked at her sharply; then he took a long 
 step or two across the room, seized her gently 
 by the arm, led her back, and put her in the 
 chair she had just left. Next he took a clean 
 
Further Glimpses of Heaven 319 
 
 pocket handkerchief out of his pocket, and 
 spread it on her lap. 
 
 " There, cry if you want to," he said, with 
 the kindly, affectionate intonation that she had 
 missed all day. " Don't mind me. I am 
 used to that sort of thing. The women's tears 
 I have seen shed would make an ocean; and 
 the men's, too, they would make " 
 
 " A Great Salt Lake," put in Evelyn as he 
 paused for a comparison. The elaborate 
 preparation had taken away from her all desire 
 to cry. 
 
 "Well, what 's the matter?" he asked 
 cheerfully. 'Too much preoccupation?" 
 Evelyn nodded. 
 
 ' You hurt my feelings," she said plaint- 
 ively. 
 
 Poor little feelings! It would always be 
 so, Evelyn, ""he added seriously. ' My pro- 
 fession will always be first with me. I think 
 that it is unpardonable, myself, to pick people 
 up and then drop them, the way I have to, 
 and that is why I don't intend to do any pick- 
 ing up." 
 
 If you would only tell me what you are so 
 absorbed in, I should n't feel so left out in the 
 cold," she protested. The Doctor laughed. 
 
 ' You poor child! You are abused! It 's 
 the woman I went to see yesterday. I operated 
 
320 The Things that Count 
 
 on her this morning, and I am afraid that she 
 is going to die. She has only one chance in 
 about twenty of pulling through. It is a com- 
 fort to know that she could not have lived 
 anyway. That was established beyond doubt 
 by the operation. She could not have lived 
 more than six weeks at the most, and would 
 have suffered the agonies of the damned. 
 Well, we have done everything that human 
 skill can do, and I won't think of her again 
 until morning.*' 
 
 " Can you do that: put something you are 
 so absorbed in entirely out of your mind ?" 
 she asked in amazement. 
 
 " I do it every night of my life. That is 
 why I don't look my years," he added, with a 
 smile. " But, come, I 'm dead tired, too tired 
 to talk. Don't you want to read to me for 
 half an hour, to make me sleepy ? " 
 
 "Yes, indeed!" she answered eagerly: 
 " What shall it be?" 
 
 " Anything you like, except stories; I don't 
 care for those much nowadays. There are 
 books enough here, and nobody ever reads 
 them. It seems strange to me that something 
 I once cared so much about should have passed 
 so completely out of my life." 
 
 " I will read you what I was just reading 
 when you came in, the Rubaiyat. I heard it 
 
Further Glimpses of Heaven 3 21 
 
 set to music, The Persian Garden, you know, 
 and I was ashamed that I was so unfamiliar 
 with it. I never read a line of it before to- 
 night. I have heard it quoted a great deal, of 
 course; there is a certain kind of man who 
 always quotes it to you in romantic situations. 
 Indeed, I heard a girl describe a man as ' the 
 only man who had never quoted the Rubaiyat 
 to her.'" 
 
 " I have n't opened it for twenty years," 
 said the Doctor, throwing himself on the 
 leather-covered sofa near which her chair was 
 standing, and putting his arms under his head. 
 " Now, fire ahead," he said. 
 
 Evelyn read slowly, bringing out the mean- 
 ing of each phrase. 
 
 " Ah, that is fine! I had forgotten that it 
 was so good," he said, after a little. 
 
 ' There was the Door to which I found no key, 
 There was the Veil through which I might not see/ 
 
 he quoted. " And there are fools who think 
 they know it all! Read me that again," he 
 said presently, when she had gone on farther. 
 Evelyn repeated : 
 
 " I sent my soul through the Invisible 
 
 Some secret of that After-Life to spell : 
 And by and by my Soul returned to me, 
 
 And answer'd, * I Myself am Heav'n and Hell ' : 
 
322 The Things that Count 
 
 " Heav'n but the Vision of fulfill'd Desire, 
 And Hell the Shadow of a Soul on fire 
 Cast on the Darkness into which Ourselves, 
 So late emerg'd from, shall so soon expire.' " 
 
 She slipped her hand into his as it projected 
 beside his head, and he held it fast. 
 
 " ' The Vision of fulfill'd Desire.' I wonder 
 if my fulfilled desire would not have been a 
 hell to me," he said, as she paused after the 
 last line. " I am in a strange mood to-night," 
 he went on, as she did not answer. " Some- 
 thing that happened to-day brought up some- 
 thing that happened years ago very vividly 
 before me. Here, finish the thing, and then 
 you must go to bed. I 'm a nice doctor, keep- 
 ing you from sleep to amuse me." 
 
 " But I am slept out," she protested. " I 
 have been sleeping most of the time since I 
 have been here." 
 
 " Well, I want some sleep myself, then." 
 Evelyn removed her hand, and read through 
 to the end. 
 
 " Did you ever hear Liza Lehmann's music 
 to this ? " she asked. 
 
 " No, but I 'dlike to." 
 
 " Do you care for music ? " 
 
 " Do I ! It has more power over me than 
 anything else. I always manage a symphony 
 concert and one or two operas every winter." 
 
Further Glimpses of Heaven 3 2 3 
 
 " Don't get up," Evelyn said as she rose to 
 
 g- 
 
 ' You credit me with better manners than 
 
 I have," he replied laughing. " I was n't 
 dreaming of getting up." 
 
 " You have atrocious manners! " she com- 
 mented. ' You ought to take some lessons 
 from Richard Palmer. He has the nicest 
 manners of any man I know just the right 
 amount of them." 
 
 " Me take lessons of a kid like that! " the 
 Doctor exclaimed indignantly. 
 
 " He is thirty years old." 
 
 " And I am nearly twenty years older. 
 How do you know that I did n't have good 
 manners when I was his age ? " 
 
 " I 'd wager my dream of being rich some 
 day that you did n't." 
 
 " Perhaps not. Well, good-night, if you 
 insist on going." 
 
 " I thought I was sent," she replied de- 
 murely. 
 
 " So you were. I had forgotten." Evelyn 
 turned when she reached the door. 
 
 " Dr. Gardner," she began, with apparent 
 timidity. 
 
 " Well, you shy little thing," he answered. 
 
 " I just wanted to call your attention to the 
 fact that to-morrow is my last day here, and 
 
324 The Things that Count 
 
 that it would be desirable if you remembered 
 that you had a guest." 
 
 ' Very well," he replied with mock solemn- 
 ity. " I will make a memorandum of it." He 
 took a note-book out of his pocket, and wrote 
 something in it. 
 
 " Let me see," she pleaded, coming back. 
 
 Let you into my secrets ? Never." He 
 held the book in his hand, which he threw over 
 his head again. In half a second Evelyn was 
 behind him, and had snatched it from him. 
 
 "Oh!" she exclaimed in a tone of dis- 
 appointment when she had read the entry. 
 " Here; take your old book! " and she threw 
 it at him. 
 
 'Talk about manners!" exclaimed the 
 Doctor, as he caught it. What she had read 
 was, " Remember to send tonic to Mrs. 
 Murphy." ' Well, Miss Impetuosity, what 
 do you want me to do to celebrate to- 
 morrow ?" he continued. 
 
 " I am not exacting. Just to remember my 
 existence during the day is all I ask. And if 
 you could manage to be at home part of the 
 evening the last part it would be very nice." 
 
 " I will. I will make a point of it." 
 
 " No; I don't want you to do that. I want 
 you to do it because you want to. Don't you 
 want to ?" 
 
Further Glimpses of Heaven 3 2 5 
 
 ' Very much the present moment." 
 
 Oh! " exclaimed Evelyn, speechless with 
 indignation, going out and closing the door, 
 not too softly, behind her. It was an in- 
 soluble mystery to her, as to many a woman 
 before her, that moments which were so filled 
 to the brim with life, so tense with excitement 
 for her, should not be equally desired and 
 sought after by the mortal who lived them 
 with her. 
 
 The Doctor was very friendly and approach- 
 able the next day in the few minutes she saw 
 him. His patient was decidedly stronger; the 
 chances in her favour were going up, and his 
 spirits went up with them. He went out for 
 a couple of calls after supper, but promised to 
 be back by nine o'clock. After he had gone, 
 Evelyn went over to Mrs. Pinkerton's, and got 
 her guitar, and established herself in the 
 library to await his return. She brought the 
 dogs up from the kitchen, where they usually 
 stayed in their master's absence, to keep her 
 company. The night was chilly, and Mrs. 
 Gordon had lit the wood fire, as the Doctor 
 liked one whenever there was the slightest 
 excuse. 
 
 After Mrs. Gordon had gone up-stairs, Evelyn 
 put out the gas, which blazed in the chandelier 
 overhead, leaving the room lit only by the 
 
326 The Things that Count 
 
 lamp on the table and the bright fire-light. It 
 was nearly ten o'clock before the Doctor came 
 in. 
 
 " Well, this is comfortable! " he exclaimed, 
 after a rapturous greeting from the dogs, and 
 a quieter one from Evelyn. ' What have you 
 done to the room ? " 
 
 " Only put out those hideous high lights." 
 
 "It 's a great improvement. Well, Mrs. 
 Dennison is better. It 's too soon to say, but 
 I really think we are going to pull her through. 
 What is that ? " he broke off, his keen eyes 
 spying Evelyn's guitar, which was resting 
 against the bookcase. 
 
 " My guitar. I brought it over to sing to 
 you." 
 
 " I did n't know you could sing." 
 
 " You don't know everything about me. 
 My voice is considered my best point. My 
 specialty is coon songs; but I won't favour 
 you with those to-night. What kind of songs 
 do you like best ? " 
 
 " German songs. They make me think of 
 the time I was studying there ; not that I was 
 happy then quite the contrary." 
 
 " ' I was not happy, but knew not then that 
 happy I was never doomed to be,' " quoted 
 Evelyn. 
 
 " That is always the difference between 
 
Further Glimpses of Heaven 3 2 7 
 
 youth and age," he responded. ' Well, I am 
 tired, or lazy, or something. I am going to lie 
 down here on the sofa in front of the fire, and 
 let you sing to me. Here, doggies, you 'd 
 better stretch yourselves out on the rug for 
 another nap. I don't want you on top of me." 
 Evelyn sang a little song of Heine's. 
 
 " Why have n't you sung to me before ? " 
 the Doctor exclaimed indignantly, when she 
 had finished. ;< I had no idea you could sing 
 like that. I suppose you were saving it up for 
 an effect." 
 
 " No, truly," she answered honestly. " But 
 I thought until last night that you did n't care 
 for music. I had never heard you talk about 
 it." 
 
 ' There are so many things to talk about, 
 and so little time," he answered. " Besides, I 
 don't think I ever talk about the things I care 
 about most. Sing some more." 
 
 She sang for a long time, ending up with a 
 little Norwegian lullaby. When she had 
 finished it, she saw that he was fast asleep. 
 All the lines were smoothed out of his face. 
 He looked very peaceful and happy, as he lay 
 there with the light of the fire upon him. 
 Evelyn sat there on an embroidered ottoman, 
 the work of one of his great-aunts, until nearly 
 twelve o'clock. She grew very restless for the 
 
328 The Things that Count 
 
 last half-hour. It seemed such a waste of those 
 precious minutes, the last she might ever have 
 with him, and yet she could not grudge him 
 the sleep he needed, although in it he seemed 
 far away and unapproachable. Even the dogs 
 appeared to have settled down for the night. 
 She thought that she would go to bed, but she 
 did not like to leave him there asleep. She 
 was afraid that he might sleep until the room 
 grew cold ; but still she hated to rouse him. 
 At last the log on the fire parted in the middle, 
 and the two ends falling on the hearth awak- 
 ened him. 
 
 " I have n't been asleep," he protested 
 quickly, when he opened his eyes and saw her 
 standing there, about to go to attend to the 
 fire. 
 
 " Oh, no; not at all. You just shut your 
 eyes to keep out the light of the fire, and left 
 them so for an hour." 
 
 " You poor thing! Why did n't you go to 
 bed ? " 
 
 " I am going now. Good-night, Dr. Gard- 
 ner. I am glad you have enjoyed your eve- 
 ning." He rose to his feet, and took both her 
 hands. 
 
 " Don't be cross to me," he pleaded. " If 
 you knew how tired I was! Why, there are 
 tears in your eyes. You silly child ! " She 
 
Further Glimpses of Heaven 329 
 
 buried her face in his shoulder for a second. 
 Then she raised it. 
 
 " Kiss me; kiss me as if I were your daugh- 
 ter. No, not on my cheek, on my lips," she 
 said quietly. He took her in his arms, and 
 kissed her. The fervour with which she re- 
 turned it evidently startled him, together with 
 the look on the face she raised to his. 
 
 " I have done wrong! " he exclaimed, with a 
 note of pain in his voice. " I will never kiss 
 you again. It means one thing to me, and 
 another to you. I have been wrong, very 
 wrong, all along; but I thought it was for a 
 few days only, and I hated to send you away, 
 or be unkind to you. I don't think I have 
 ever fully realised before that this thing could 
 be serious with you. It seemed preposterous. 
 I thought you would care less as you knew me 
 more, and saw what a confirmed old fogy I was. 
 I am afraid you have a great deal to forgive me 
 for, Evelyn." 
 
 ;< No, no! " she protested. 
 
 " Yes, yes! I wonder if you realise that I 
 never even suspected this thing until after the 
 first night you were here. I have had my 
 women patients fancy me, of course every 
 doctor has that sort of thing to contend with; 
 and if you had been a sentimental old maid, 
 or a forlorn widow, or a girl who had never 
 
330 The Things that Count 
 
 known a man before, I should have been 
 on my guard ; but the idea that you, with 
 all your prettiness, your personal importance, 
 your savoir faire, your charming little ways, 
 your experiences with men of the world, 
 could seriously care for a man like me, old 
 enough to be your father, and with no know- 
 ledge of the niceties of life that mean so 
 much to you ; that you, being such as you are, 
 should care for me, such as I am, was incon- 
 ceivable. I should have called myself a con- 
 ceited old ass if the thought had ever come to 
 me. But the miracle has happened, and I am 
 heartily sorry for it." 
 
 " Are you as sorry for it as you think you 
 are ? " she asked wistfully. 
 
 " I am afraid I am. And that is the worst 
 of all, is n't it ? You must go to-morrow, 
 dear girl. I will come to see you once, for 
 there are some things about myself that I 
 think I 'd better tell you, and then you must 
 go your way, and I mine. I hope I hope by 
 all I hold sacred that I shall never be tempted 
 to forget myself again. Good-night." 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 RETROSPECTIVE 
 
 THE Doctor went off early the next morn- 
 ing; but he left word with Mrs. Gordon 
 that Evelyn was not to go back to Mrs. Pinker- 
 ton's until after she had had her dinner. He 
 himself would not be home. He also left a 
 message to the effect that he would try to 
 come to see her the next evening. She spent 
 the morning finishing the marking of some new 
 towels that she had insisted on doing for Mrs. 
 Gordon. After lunch, she packed up her few 
 possessions, and started on her journey of half 
 a block with a stronger sense of removal than 
 she had ever had on setting out on one of a 
 thousand miles. 
 
 Mrs. Pinkerton met her in the hall, and went 
 up-stairs with her. She made mysterious allu- 
 sions, which were explained when she opened 
 the door of Evelyn's room, and disclosed a 
 bowl of lilies of the valley on the table. The 
 
 331 
 
33 2 The Things that Count 
 
 Doctor had brought them, she explained, and 
 had asked her to keep an eye on Miss Smith 
 as if she would n't do so, anyway! He re- 
 gretted that he himself could n't look after her 
 a little, but Mrs. Pinkerton knew that his busi- 
 ness was with sick people, not with well ones. 
 He would try to come to see Miss Smith once 
 or twice more, until she got over the first 
 loneliness, but after that he 'd have to trust 
 her to Mrs. Pinkerton. 
 
 Evelyn bent her face over the lilies to hide 
 the tears that came into her eyes at his 
 thoughtfulness for her, and his delicacy in 
 shielding her from the gossip of the house. If 
 there had been any talk, his words would con- 
 vince her good neighbours that they had been 
 mistaken. 
 
 She remarked on the cleaning the room had 
 evidently had in her absence, and found that 
 Miss Stevens had done it. She went down to 
 thank her as soon as she had put her things 
 away, and, indirectly, to introduce the ques- 
 tion of some work. Miss Stevens was delighted 
 with the idea. She needed some extra help, 
 and Evelyn's taste had long been her admira- 
 tion. She would pay her a dollar and a quar- 
 ter a day, which was more than she paid her 
 sewing girls. Evelyn said that she would 
 begin work on Monday, as she wanted to 
 
Retrospective 333 
 
 devote the rest of the week to renovating a 
 black gown to wear on the street. 
 
 She got it out immediately, determined not 
 to be idle a moment. It occurred to her as she 
 sewed that nothing typified the change that had 
 been going on in her more than her attitude 
 towards mourning. Once it would have seemed 
 essential to her; she would have made any 
 sacrifices for the proper amount of crepe and 
 black edges. Now, it all seemed so purely a 
 meaningless form, that she had difficulty in 
 rousing herself to get a black gown and hat 
 ready for the street. Fortunately, she had 
 some thin black and white clothes that she 
 could wear when the weather grew warmer. 
 She did not care what she wore in the house. 
 One of Miss Stevens's sewing girls was in 
 mourning, and the dusty bands of crepe on 
 her rusty black cashmere seemed out of place 
 in the workroom. ' I suppose she felt that 
 she had to have them, just as I used to feel 
 that I had to have things," Evelyn said to 
 herself. ;< I wonder if it seemed as absurd to 
 my friends, my thinking I had to have cob- 
 webby handkerchiefs and sleeves of the latest 
 pattern, as her thinking she has to have mourn- 
 ing does to me. The idea of adding extra 
 financial worries to the sorrows and neces- 
 sary worries of a real bereavement by getting 
 
334 The Things that Count 
 
 mourning for the whole family! How little 
 sense poor people have! How little sense I 
 have had all my life! " she added regretfully. 
 
 She could not imagine herself going back to 
 her old life, and devoting herself to the deifica- 
 tion of the trivial once more. The life before 
 her might be dreary (it would seem unspeak- 
 ably dreary to one who did not know of its 
 hidden charm) ; but, at least, it was independ- 
 ent. She could really be herself, for the first 
 time in her life. She was under no obligations 
 to make herself agreeable to anyone. 
 
 Evelyn felt positively happy that afternoon, 
 as she sat there sewing. Dr. Gardner would 
 come to see her once more; she had that be- 
 fore her ; afterwards, no matter how determined 
 he was that their relation should come to an 
 end, there would be accidental meetings; there 
 could not help being when two people lived 
 within a block of each other. She would at 
 least see him drive by every day. And no one 
 could tell what might not happen. He might 
 not find himself so self-sufficient, now that he 
 had had a taste of companionship. Perhaps 
 the library would seem lonely to him when he 
 came back at night ; and Mavis's moist, doggy 
 kisses might pall after the embraces of a pair 
 of soft, warm arms. 
 
 The next afternoon she had a visit from 
 
Retrospective 335 
 
 Clara, who came over to get her mother's few 
 possessions, which Evelyn had packed in 
 readiness for her. She seemed happy in her 
 married life, but was evidently mourning for 
 her mother sincerely, and blaming herself that 
 she had left her when she did. Evelyn con- 
 soled her to the best of her ability. 
 
 That evening, instead of the Doctor, Maria 
 came, bringing a note, saying that he found it 
 impossible to get around that evening, but 
 that he would try to come the next morning, 
 if she would let him come early. She had 
 been in a state of such intensity of expectation 
 that her first sensation was one of relief from 
 strain. After that, disappointment came, but. 
 she soon consoled herself with the thought 
 that his visit would not be over so soon. He 
 came the next morning at about ten o'clock. 
 Evelyn had been trying to mend some stock- 
 ings, but her hands had trembled so that she 
 had been forced to put her work down. Her 
 head was hot, and her hands and feet icy cold 
 with excitement. Every step on the stairs or 
 in the street outside set her heart beating so 
 violently that it was painful. Once the door- 
 bell rang, and the strain, until she heard a 
 shrill woman's voice in the hall, was terrible. 
 Finally she flung herself face downward on the 
 bed. The suspense was so acute that she would 
 
33 6 The Things that Count 
 
 have felt it a relief to know that he was not 
 coming. She was still lying there, clutching 
 the counterpane, when she heard a ring at the 
 door-bell with a quality in it that could not be 
 mistaken. She wondered that she could have 
 been deceived for a second in the other. She 
 rose quickly, went to the glass, and smoothed 
 her hair. Then she opened the door. 
 
 ' Well," he said, as he came up the stairs, 
 " How are you ? I just dropped in a moment 
 to say that I could n't come this morning." 
 Evelyn could not say a word ; she felt so dis- 
 appointed and so hurt that he should put off 
 his visit with her in this easy way for anything 
 that came along. " Would you rather I did n't 
 come at all ? " he asked quickly, evidently 
 recognising her state of mind. 
 
 ' Yes," she answered quietly. 
 
 ' Very well," he said gently, and started to 
 go down-stairs again. Evelyn felt desperate. 
 She longed to call him back, but her pride 
 would not let her. She stood there motion- 
 less, with much the same feeling with which a 
 shipwrecked man who had lost his voice might 
 watch a ship sail by which he could not hail. 
 
 Half-way down, he turned and came back. 
 He took her hand as she stood there in the 
 doorway. 
 
 " Don't be so silly," he said affectionately. 
 
Retrospective 337 
 
 ' We are not two children. I shall be here as 
 near three this afternoon as I can manage it, if 
 nothing prevents. I never let anything inter- 
 fere with my duty to my patients, you know," 
 he added, a little severely. " Go and take a 
 walk into the country. It will do you good 
 this lovely, sunshiny morning. I will tell you 
 where to go. Do you want me to ? " he went 
 on as she did not answer. 
 
 Yes, do," she said. " I will go anywhere 
 you say. I will stop at your house and invite 
 Mavis and Wink to go with me," she added, 
 when he had laid out a route for her. 
 
 " I wish you would. A walk is such a de- 
 light to them. What are you planning to have 
 for dinner ? " he asked abruptly. 
 
 ' I call that an impertinent question. I 
 don't intend to tell you," she returned, re- 
 covering a little of her usual spirit. 
 
 Is it tea and toast and honey ? " he per- 
 sisted. 
 
 41 Well, what if it is ? " she asked defiantly. 
 It is wicked," he remarked solemnly. 
 Evelyn went over to the bureau, opened the 
 top drawer, and took out her purse. 
 
 Look here," she said, emptying its con- 
 tents on the table. There were half-a-dozen 
 nickels and ten-cent pieces and a few pennies. 
 That is every cent of money I have in the 
 
The Things that Count 
 
 world until I can earn more. I will accept 
 nothing from anyone. Now, don't talk to me 
 about its being wicked not to buy things for 
 which I have not the money to pay." The 
 Doctor shook his head sadly, but said nothing 
 except : 
 
 1 Until three, then," and made his way 
 down-stairs again. 
 
 Her first thought after he had left her was 
 that she would have to go through the same 
 agony of suspense again that afternoon ; but 
 presently, to her surprise, she found that she 
 felt calm instead of excited : an effect which 
 his bodily presence always had upon her, while 
 the idea of him was unbearably stimulating. 
 She took the dogs and went to walk, as he had 
 suggested, gathering a great bunch of spring 
 flowers, and getting real enjoyment out of the 
 beauty of the day and the dogs' ecstasies of 
 delight. After her simple little lunch, she sat 
 down quite tranquilly to wait for his coming. 
 
 ' Well/' he said, when he arrived, a few 
 minutes after three; " here I am, at last, and 
 without another thing to do this afternoon. 
 How pleasant it is in here; how still and peace- 
 ful! It is such a comfort to have the streets 
 so quiet. Do you know, far away from it as I 
 am, Sunday never comes without bringing a 
 sense of relief that I am a free agent, and 
 
Retrospective 339 
 
 have n't the Sunday of my boyhood to live 
 through. I almost hated Saturday afternoon, 
 although it was nominally a half-holiday, be- 
 cause it was so near Sunday. Monday was my 
 favourite day in all the week." 
 
 "Don't you want to smoke?" Evelyn 
 asked, putting a cushion behind his back, as 
 he sat in the corner of the sofa. " It does n't 
 matter if I wait on you this afternoon," she 
 added, half apologetically ; it was such a new 
 role for her. 
 
 ' You don't really mind ? I went off after 
 dinner without my cigar." There was such 
 a pleased alacrity in his voice that she had to 
 laugh. 
 
 No, of course not. You have a few in- 
 terests in life left, have n't you ? " she asked 
 teasingly. 
 
 One or two," he answered, with a laugh 
 in his eyes. 
 
 "Operations and cigars what a, thrilling 
 life it must be! " A little bitterness crept into 
 her voice, in spite of her efforts to keep it out. 
 
 " Come, Evelyn," he protested. " I can't 
 bear to have you take it this way. Bring your 
 chair around here I mean, allow me the 
 pleasure of bringing it for you," he broke off, 
 as he jumped to his feet and moved the chair 
 in which she was going to sit nearer to the sofa. 
 
340 The Things that Count 
 
 " I am going to tell you a little story presently, 
 when I can work myself up to doing it," he 
 went on, when he had reseated himself. 
 
 " I don't want to hear it if it 's an effort for 
 you," she replied coldly. 
 
 ' That is n't the point. I want that you 
 should know it. You don't mind my telling 
 it to you, do you ? " 
 
 " No, of course not; only I don't want you 
 to feel that there is any reason why you 
 should. It is all final enough as it stands." 
 
 " Oh, that is n't it. I just want you to 
 understand me a little better." 
 
 " You care what I think about you ? " 
 
 " I do," he answered gravely ; " very much, 
 indeed. I suppose I might as well begin now 
 as any time," he went on a few minutes later, 
 breaking through the silence that followed his 
 last remark. ;< I shall not find it any easier if 
 I wait for ever. I shall skip everything that is 
 not essential, so if you don't understand any- 
 thing, don't hesitate to ask me to explain. 
 There is no part of the story that I am not 
 perfectly willing that you should know about." 
 He paused again for some minutes before he 
 continued : " It goes back to the time when I 
 was a boy. There was a girl, Helen Marston 
 was her name, and she lived in Revere. Her 
 family was the most important one in that part 
 
Retrospective 341 
 
 of the world. There had been a great many 
 distinguished men in it in former times, and 
 they had been very wealthy, until John Mar- 
 ston, Helen's father, succeeded in disposing of 
 most of the family property. However, they 
 still kept up a great deal of style, for our part 
 of the world, when I first knew them. Helen 
 was a girl with a tremendous power over men. 
 I have often wondered what it was, but I can 
 never make up my mind whether it was physi- 
 cal or mental. I have known girls prettier than 
 she, and girls cleverer; but they have none of 
 them had her charm. I don't know any name 
 for it except magnetism, and that is siThply 
 begging the question. I don't know when I 
 fell in love with her, for I cannot remember 
 the time when she was not of more importance 
 than the rest of the world to me. We did not 
 go to the same church (her people were Epis- 
 copalians), but she was in my class when I first 
 went to the Academy. It was not long after- 
 wards that she was sent off to school, and after 
 that I caught glimpses of her only in vacations. 
 All the boys worshipped at her shrine, and I 
 was only one of a number to her. Harry Gil- 
 man was her especial friend, a handsome fellow, 
 with almost as much personal charm in his way 
 as she had in hers. Well, the first year I was 
 in New York, I heard of her engagement to 
 
34 2 The Things that Count 
 
 him, and that the family had stipulated that it 
 was to be a long one, they were both so young ; 
 and the following year I heard of her father's 
 death, and the fact that he had left his affairs 
 in a very bad condition. Helen and her mother 
 and younger brother (that was all the family) 
 left Revere, and I lost sight of them entirely. 
 Six or seven years later, when things were be- 
 ginning to come my way, Dr. Haldeman (you 
 probably don't know about him, but he was a 
 great man in his day) asked me to go with him 
 to see a patient of his, a music teacher of his 
 daughter's, who had a growth that he believed 
 to b* cancerous in her breast. I went with 
 him that afternoon, and the woman was Helen. 
 She was living in poor little rooms, in a forlorn 
 quarter of the city, with her mother and Paul, 
 who was a clerk-of-all-work in a lawyer's office. 
 What Helen earned by giving music lessons 
 and his little salary were all the family had to 
 live on. It was nearly ten years since I had 
 seen anything of her, and I had changed very 
 much (I had grown a beard) ; so it was not sur- 
 prising that she did not recognise me, especially 
 as she had never known me at all well in the 
 old days. I did not tell them who I was, 
 partly because I thought Mrs. Marston might 
 be mortified at my seeing the change in their 
 circumstances, but chiefly for fear Helen might 
 
Retrospective 343 
 
 not like to be treated by a former friend. I 
 decided to wait until she got thoroughly used 
 to me as a doctor before I told her. It would 
 have been a terribly sad case in any circum- 
 stances. When I had examined her, I felt, 
 with Dr. Haldeman, that there was no chance 
 for her. This was just the beginning of the 
 end." 
 
 ' What had become of her engagement ? " 
 Evelyn asked, as he paused. 
 
 ;< It had been broken. Helen, so I learned 
 later, had broken it some time before, because 
 there was no prospect of their ever being able 
 to marry, and Oilman had let her do it. I 
 begged Haldeman to turn the case over to me, 
 giving him a hint that my interest was not 
 purely professional, and he was glad to do it. 
 I went to the house nearly every day, though 
 it was n't strictly necessary, and soon became 
 friends with them all. Helen confided her 
 perplexities and anxieties to me. In the years 
 that I had not seen her, believing her to be 
 Oilman's fiancte, or wife, my keenness of feel- 
 ing had naturally faded away; but at the first 
 sight of her the old fascination began to work, 
 only with a hundred times more power than 
 ever before." 
 
 " But did n't you mind it what she had ? " 
 Evelyn asked. 
 
344 The Things that Count 
 
 " The cancer ? No, not at all. I felt no 
 repulsion : only a sense of infinite pity and 
 love. If I could have taken it myself, I would 
 have done so gladly, even although I knew she 
 would have had the shrinking which I did n't 
 feel. The thing was a horror to her. If she 
 had been a leper, she could not have felt it 
 more strongly. She shrank from all mention 
 of it from anyone but me, and told me often 
 how glad she was that she had no friends to 
 come to see her. The worst feature of it was 
 that it was so slow. She did not suffer much 
 when I first took the case, but the pain grew 
 gradually." 
 
 " Could n't you operate ? " asked Evelyn. 
 
 " No; it would have meant instant death. 
 She had wonderful self-control; it was only to 
 me that she ever gave way ; to Paul and her 
 mother she was always cheerful. Paul adored 
 her, and worked day and night, getting work 
 to do out of hours, that he might earn a little 
 more money, now that Helen's earnings had 
 stopped. He was, and is, a nice fellow. He 
 is a wealthy man now, with a fine woman for 
 his wife, and some children who are going to 
 make him proud of them. He lives in New 
 York, and I always dine with them on Helen's 
 birthday, the loth of November. We never 
 say anything about its being an anniversary ; 
 
Retrospective 345 
 
 but it would have to be something very serious 
 that could keep me away." 
 
 " And Mrs. Marston, is she alive ? " Evelyn 
 asked. 
 
 " No; she died that same year, shortly after 
 but I will go back to where I left off. Helen 
 recognised me very soon. I often caught her 
 looking at me intently, but she said nothing 
 until I had been going to the house about two 
 months. Then, one day after I had been hurt- 
 ing her considerably, and she had been lying 
 with her eyes closed so quietly that I thought 
 she must be in great pain, she suddenly opened 
 them (they were a little darker than yours, and 
 had the same gleam of fun in them sometimes 
 that yours have), and said mischievously: 
 ' Have you ever got quite clear in your mind as 
 to the difference between Ben Jonson and Dr. 
 Johnson ' ? This was an allusion to a break I 
 had once made in our literature class, which 
 had been a source of great amusement to the 
 class, as I was always a good scholar. 'And 
 do you still think Dolly Varden to be one of 
 the ladies of Charles II.'s Court ? ' I answered, 
 retorting with a break of her own. We both 
 laughed at that, and we had a long talk about 
 old days, during which Harry Oilman's name 
 was not once mentioned by either of us. We 
 grew better friends than ever after that." 
 
346 The Things that Count 
 
 " Did she know that you loved her? " Evelyn 
 inquired, in a low voice. 
 
 I never told her so; but she knew, of 
 course. I think she must always have known 
 about my feeling for her. I tried to hide it 
 the best I could, because I thought it would 
 probably be displeasing to her under the cir- 
 cumstances. I was her doctor, though I had 
 grown to be her friend. Well, the thing went 
 on slowly for some months, every one of which 
 made her dearer to me. Of course, it was not 
 necessary that I should go to see her every 
 day, but I could no more have kept away. I 
 cannot tell you how it hurt me to see the way 
 they lived, when I remembered their former 
 life. I had been in their house once or twice 
 on errands when I was a boy, and it had always 
 been the type of all that was magnificent to 
 me." 
 
 '.' Was it, really ? " Evelyn asked. 
 
 I suppose it was n't as fine as it appeared 
 to me. I know that it was n't, from the way 
 the exterior looks to me now; but it was a 
 very fine old house, with beautiful hardwood 
 floors, and ceilings with the beams showing, 
 and carved oak wainscoting. The furniture 
 was very handsome. They were the only peo- 
 ple in our part of the world to have a man ser- 
 vant in the house. I longed to do something 
 
Retrospective 347 
 
 to help them, but they had a great deal of 
 old-fashioned pride, and I did n't dare offer 
 anything more substantial than flowers, game, 
 and an occasional bottle of wine. Finally, I 
 could n't stand seeing their deprivations (they 
 thought that they hid them) any longer, and 
 I waylaid Paul outside of the house one day, 
 and persuaded him to let me lend him some 
 money, promising him that he should repay 
 me with interest any time he chose. It was 
 hard work, though he was a little more modern- 
 ised in that respect than the others; but at last 
 he consented, for Helen's sake. It is one of 
 the things that I like best about him," he 
 added, " that he has never spoken of repay- 
 ment. And as the time went on, and he real- 
 ised what it all meant to me, all his scruples left 
 him, and he took from me simply and grate- 
 fully. Of course Mrs.Marston and Helen never 
 suspected it. He told them that he had had 
 a raise of salary. The strain under which they 
 were living was killing them all," he went on 
 after a little pause. He had told his story 
 calmly at first, more as if it belonged to another 
 person than himself; but he grew less self- 
 contained as he approached the end. " Helen 
 had to be under the influence of opiates every 
 night to get any sleep at all; and yet she had 
 so much vitality that the end still seemed far 
 
348 The Things that Count 
 
 off. One Sunday afternoon I reached the 
 house at about three o'clock, and found her 
 all alone. She had sent her mother out to the 
 Park with Paul, to get some fresh air. It was 
 a lovely spring day, very much like to-day. 
 I had taken her a bunch of sweet-briar roses, 
 which I had chanced upon. 
 
 " ' You carried a bunch of them to the 
 Academy party,' I said as I gave them to her. 
 
 " ' And I had a green-and-white silk dress 
 on,' she answered. 
 
 ' And a black velvet net-arrangement in 
 your hair; and slippers with elastics that crossed 
 over the instep,' I went on. Then she asked if 
 I really remembered that ; and said that it was 
 strange. And I reminded her how, when one of 
 the boys had to kneel to the wittiest, bow to 
 the prettiest, and kiss the one he loved the best 
 as a forfeit, he had done them all three to her. 
 The boy was Harry Gilman, though I did not 
 mention his name; but I could see that she 
 remembered, and that the remembrance, for 
 some reason, pleased her. I told her all about 
 the party: things that she had forgotten, but 
 remembered when I recalled them to her; for 
 I had not forgotten a detail of that wonderful 
 occasion any more than I have forgotten any- 
 thing that happened that afternoon I am telling 
 you about. Finally, she told me that she had 
 
Retrospective 349 
 
 sent her mother out on purpose, because she 
 wanted a long talk with me, and asked me if 
 she was right in thinking that I would do a 
 great deal for her. I told her simply that she 
 was. Then she seemed to leave the subject, 
 and went on to talk to me about what her 
 present life was, and of the worse things that 
 were in store for her; of how her illness was 
 breaking down her mother and Paul, neither 
 of whom was strong; of how her sufferings, 
 which she could no longer hide, were affecting 
 them ; and she ended up by asking me to tell 
 her how large a dose of her sleeping medicine 
 she must take to put an end to her sufferings 
 for ever. ' ' 
 
 " Oh, go on! " Evelyn said, in a breathless 
 whisper as he paused. He was evidently find- 
 ing it hard to tell this part of his story. 
 
 " She would not run any chances of an over- 
 dose. Her mother and Paul must never sus- 
 pect that it was not an accident. She would 
 not put that additional trouble upon them ; for 
 her mother had religious scruples against taking 
 one's own life, and the thing would be a ter- 
 rible sorrow to her if she knew. She, Helen, 
 counted on me to help her make it seem 
 entirely accidental. I refused absolutely. I 
 was even proof against her taking my hand in 
 both hers, and calling me ' dear Tom,' and 
 
35 The Things that Count 
 
 saying that I was the best friend she ever had. 
 And then, when everything else had failed, 
 she talked to me about Harry. He was to be 
 married to another girl a girl with money 
 very shortly, and she could not live till then. 
 She would not let me say a word against him, 
 and I saw that it hurt her so much to have me 
 criticise him, even to myself, that I made my- 
 self speak of what a favourite he had been 
 among us as a boy, and say everything pleasant 
 that I could think of about him. The happiest 
 look I had seen on her face since the day Dr. 
 Haldeman took me to the house came on it 
 then ; and she called me ' dear, dear Tom ' this 
 time, and laid her hand on my arm for a 
 minute. And he was, he ts, a nice fellow ; only 
 he is n't made of the stuff that heroes are made 
 of. I met him afterwards, in a queer little inn 
 in Germany, and he told me that he had always 
 loved her, and always should (his wife was with 
 him at the time) ; that he had let Helen release 
 him because a marriage between two poor 
 people, like themselves, with others dependent 
 on them, seemed absolutely hopeless; and then 
 he had drifted into this marriage. He had got 
 in so far before he knew it that he could n't 
 get out. He did not tell me so, but it was 
 easy to see that his wife was perfectly in-, 
 fatuated with him, as a great many other 
 
Retrospective 35 x 
 
 women have been. I will give him the credit 
 of being very kind and considerate of her. 
 His great fault was that he always let himself 
 be dominated by circumstances, instead of 
 mastering them. It was so when we used to 
 play together as boys. He was easily deterred 
 by obstacles." The Doctor turned off on this 
 subject, as if it were a relief to get on less sensi- 
 tive ground; but presently he drew a long 
 breath, and brought himself back to his scene 
 with Helen. ' I refused utterly to give her 
 any help that afternoon ; but her sufferings for 
 the next few weeks were terrible for me to see, 
 for she did n't try to hide them from me any 
 longer. A month later I gave her a new bottle 
 of the medicine, and a slip of paper on which 
 I had written the exact amount for a fatal 
 dose. The next morning they found her dead, 
 and sent forme." Evelyn drew a long breath. 
 
 I suppose many people would think I did 
 very wrong," he went on, getting the better 
 of the feeling that was overcoming him. " I 
 have never been sorry. I could not have done 
 any differently. Her family never suspected 
 it. She laid her plans carefully. Nobody has 
 ever dreamed that it was not an accident." 
 
 " Oh, that night! what it must have been to 
 you!" exclaimed Evelyn, the tears running 
 down her cheeks. 
 
35 2 The Things that Count 
 
 - " I can't speak of that," he said brokenly. 
 
 And now you see what has made me what I 
 am," he began presently. l< I have never in- 
 tended not to marry ; but that was too awful an 
 experience. I have never cared for a woman 
 since. I seem to have lost my ambition, too. 
 I have never cared about getting on since 
 then. All I have wanted to do was to ease 
 women's sufferings a little as a memorial to 
 her. I thought at first that I would devote 
 myself to her special form of suffering; but I 
 found that I could do so much more, give so 
 much more relief, in other lines. After her 
 death (I was doing very well then), I went 
 abroad to study for two years. Now, you 
 know all my history as it is known to no one 
 else on earth. Don't cry so, my dear child. 
 It was all over twenty years ago. It is not an 
 active grief to me now, and has not been for a 
 long time. It has not stood between me and 
 anything. It was only that I seemed to have 
 lost the power to care. It was taken out of 
 me that terrible night. Evelyn, my dear girl, 
 it hurts me to have you take it so much to 
 heart. It makes me want to put my arms 
 around you, and comfort you ; and I must not 
 do that. I must have been terribly to blame ! " 
 he broke off suddenly. 
 
 " Oh, no! you were not," Evelyn protested, 
 
Retrospective 353 
 
 removing her handkerchief from her eyes and 
 her head from the back of her chair. ' It is 
 only that we have to love the highest when we 
 see it, as somebody has said. You must not 
 feel badly because of this. It is going to be 
 my salvation. I shall be a better woman all 
 my life through because of it. I see every- 
 thing from such a different point of view since 
 I have known you." 
 
 " If only it does n't last too long," said the 
 Doctor. ' ' You must marry, and have children 
 of your own. No woman's life is complete 
 without it, and yours would be less so than 
 most. You must not let this feeling hang on 
 and stand in the way of that. I want you to 
 promise me something will you ? " 
 
 ' Tell me what it is first," she demanded 
 cautiously. 
 
 I want you to promise me that you will 
 not hold on to this thing; that you will let it 
 go the second it shows a disposition to ; hurry 
 it off a little, if you can. That is n't much to 
 ask," he went on persuasively. ;< It is n't as 
 if I asked you to kill it outright, the way you 
 did your feeling for Hunt, which would be 
 better yet. Won't you promise me ? " 
 
 How can I refuse you anything, when you 
 ask me like that!" she returned, almost in- 
 dignantly. " I promise." 
 23 
 
354 The Things that Count 
 
 ' Well: see that you keep it. There is 
 another thing that I want to speak to you 
 about," he added, with a little hesitation. " I 
 don't want to seem not to take the thing 
 seriously, but Palmer is a mighty fine fel- 
 low," he broke off, " and he is very much in 
 love with you." 
 
 ' He says so; but I have never believed in it 
 very strongly," she replied. 
 
 He has an immense power of self-restraint. 
 That is one thing that I like about him ; and 
 yet I could see his feeling in the few words he 
 spoke to me about you. I think you would 
 make a great mistake, Evelyn, dear, if, after a 
 while not just now, of course you don't 
 marry him. I am sure you would come to love 
 him very much in time, and be very happy 
 with him." 
 
 ' Yes, I know all that, and more," she an- 
 swered slowly. ;< I don't want to die a child- 
 less old maid. I want all the experiences 
 that a woman can have, and perhaps it will be 
 Richard some day if he keeps on caring. Your 
 recommendation means a great deal to me, for 
 I have seen how you can read people, even on 
 slight acquaintance," she added, smiling at him 
 through the tears in her eyes. " Is n't this 
 funny ?" she broke off, with a half-hysterical 
 laugh. 
 
Retrospective 355 
 
 " It is certainly modern, all right," returned 
 the Doctor. 
 
 " I suppose it would be orthodox for me to 
 be constant for the rest of my life; but I don't 
 mean to be. Perhaps, some day, you will be 
 our old family friend. I wonder if my hus- 
 band, whoever he is, will let me name one of 
 my boys after you." 
 
 " I shall not live to see that day," he de- 
 clared slowly. " I wanted to tell you this. It 
 is one of the reasons the principal reason, in 
 fact why I have never let myself look on 
 anything more as possible between you and 
 me. I shall not live to be an old man." 
 
 Oh, you just think that because you live 
 in such a death's-head atmosphere," she ex- 
 claimed incredulously. " You have grown 
 morbid. A man who looks the picture of 
 health that you do! It is ridiculous." 
 
 Perhaps," said the Doctor quietly, drop- 
 ping the subject, and rising to his feet. 
 * You are not going ? " she exclaimed. 
 
 " I must. It is past six. I told you this 
 about myself because you have come so near 
 to me that I liked to have you know it," he 
 said, taking her hand, and looking down at her 
 with kind, serious eyes. ' Will you do some- 
 thing for me ? " 
 
 " Anything," she answered spontaneously, 
 
35 6 The Things that Count 
 
 looking him full in the face. He put his hand 
 in his pocket, and brought out a roll of bills, 
 which he dropped in her lap. 
 
 ' Take this in the spirit in which I offer it 
 to you. It is unconventional for you to take 
 it, but it is right." 
 
 I will keep it until there is no danger of 
 my wanting it ; and then I will return it to you, 
 and I will buy myself a good substantial meal 
 every day out of it until I am paid for some 
 work that I am going to do for Miss Stevens. 
 Will that make you easier about me ? " 
 
 ' Very much. Still, I would take anything 
 in heaven or earth as a free gift from you, 
 Evelyn." 
 
 Except myself," she said sadly, but with- 
 out a trace of bitterness in her voice. 
 
 " My child, I can't do that. Some day you 
 will understand why, better than you do now. 
 Do you suppose it is no temptation to me ? 
 My house seems cold and empty since you left 
 it. Come, give me your hand. I must go. 
 Don't think I am unappreciative of the honour 
 you have done me. Good-by. " 
 
 " And you can't say, ' God bless you ' to 
 me. That is the worst of letting one's faith 
 go," she said sadly. 
 
 !< I wish I could, but I can only tell you to 
 take care of yourself. Are n't you going to 
 
Retrospective 
 
 357 
 
 say good-by to me ? Shall I have to go with- 
 out it ? Don't look at me in that way! I will 
 not kiss you." He wrenched his hand away 
 almost roughly, and, taking his hat, left the 
 room, leaving her standing there. 
 
 It was the last time that she ever saw him 
 alive. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 % 
 
 THE DELUGE, AND WHAT CAME AFTER IT 
 
 ONE afternoon, ten days later, Evelyn sat 
 in her room, sewing the ribbon on the 
 waist of a batiste gown for one of Miss Stevens's 
 customers. The material was gaudy and in- 
 artistic, and she was trying to tone it down a 
 little with ribbon and lace. She had been 
 sewing for Miss Stevens only a little over a 
 week, but already she was an authority with 
 her, and was consulted about every tuck. Her 
 taste and general knowledge more than made 
 up for her lack of professional experience, 
 which she felt she could gain in a very short 
 time. As she sewed, she was planning a 
 future for herself, in which she would work 
 for Miss Stevens until her money affairs were 
 straightened out ; then she would go to Paris, 
 and get a position with some big dressmaker 
 there, and, after a year or so of that, she 
 would come home and open a dressmaking 
 
 358 
 
The Deluge 359 
 
 establishment for herself. All her former 
 friends would patronise her: at first out of curi- 
 osity, and after that her own prospective skill 
 would carry her to success. Her establishment 
 should be something entirely new in the line; 
 her parlours should be open to her girls in the 
 evening as club rooms. Perhaps she would 
 even board such of them as had no homes. 
 She would gradually collect a library for them, 
 and do her best to improve them in every way. 
 Perhaps some day Doctor Gardner would hear 
 of the great work she was doing, and come to 
 see her about a sewing girl in whom he was 
 interested ; and how surprised he would be to 
 find that the Miss Smith of whom every one 
 was talking was his Evelyn. After that, he 
 would come to see her quite often, and they 
 would have a friendship like one of those 
 celebrated French ones ever afterward. She 
 was just planning the conversation that took 
 place on the occasion on which he should dis- 
 cover her, when a gentle knock came at her 
 door. Mrs. Gordon came in, and as soon as 
 Evelyn saw her face she knew that something 
 was the matter. 
 
 ' What is it ? " she exclaimed anxiously. 
 Mrs. Gordon dropped on the sofa. 
 
 " My dear child, I have some sad news for 
 you," she said, beginning to weep. 
 
360 The Things that Count 
 
 ' You do not need to tell me. I know," 
 Evelyn answered. " He is dead." 
 
 ' Yes," Mrs. Gordon said simply. They 
 sat there in silence for a few minutes, and 
 then, when she was calmer, the older woman 
 began to tell how it had happened. Evelyn 
 did not shed a tear throughout the whole 
 recital. 
 
 He had been performing an operation on a 
 woman at the hospital that morning, a very 
 serious, complicated operation. It was over, 
 and they hoped successfully, when one of the 
 younger physicians, who happened to be look- 
 ing at Dr. Gardner, saw him turn perfectly 
 white. He sank down on a chair, and asked 
 for a glass of water; but before it could be 
 brought he was dead. He pointed to his in- 
 side pocket, and said, " Look there first," and 
 that was the end. In his pocket they had 
 found a card, with his name and address on it, 
 and these words: " In case of my sudden 
 death, do not take my body home until you 
 have sent Mr. Saunders, the Presbyterian min- 
 ister, to break the news to Mrs. Gordon, my 
 housekeeper. Notify Dr. McKenzie, who will 
 make all necessary arrangements, as he knows 
 my wishes. Telegraph immediately to William 
 F. Gardner, Revere, New Hampshire, my 
 nephew and only near relative. There is a 
 
The Deluge 3 61 
 
 letter for him in the extreme right-hand 
 pigeonhole of my desk in the library." 
 
 All his instructions had been carried out, 
 and Mrs. Gordon had just received a telegram 
 from Mr. William Gardner saying that he 
 would arrive early the next morning. Dr. 
 McKenzie had told her that the Doctor had 
 had a serious heart trouble for years. Both 
 men had known for some time that he could 
 not live long. That was the reason why he 
 was always so particular never to leave any- 
 thing unfinished over night, and never put off 
 for a minute anything important that he had 
 to do. She said, in answer to a question of 
 Evelyn's, that there would be no funeral. 
 The Doctor had told her, some time before, 
 that he did not wish any. It was a great 
 additional sorrow to her that no sacred words 
 should be read over his body, but she felt sure 
 that God would understand him, and would 
 judge him by his life, and not by his lack of 
 faith. He had been misguided; but, for all 
 that, the best man she had ever known. She 
 had tried to argue the question on the occa- 
 sion when he had spoken of it to her, merely, 
 it seemed, as a matter of improbable occur- 
 rence; but he had told her that it would be as 
 wicked for him to let himself be buried by the 
 rites of a religion in which he not only did not 
 
362 The Things that Count 
 
 believe, but profoundly disbelieved, as it would 
 for her to let a Mohammedan or a Chinese 
 service be read over her head to please her 
 friends. It would be an act of hypocrisy on 
 his part. He wished to be cremated at the 
 earliest possible moment, and with no cere- 
 mony whatever. It was not, so he had told 
 her, that he had the slightest concern as to what 
 became of his body after he left it; but he 
 thought it was his duty to set an example of 
 honesty to those who wished to discard forms 
 in which they did not believe, but did not 
 have the courage of their convictions. 
 
 Evelyn listened to all this in an impersonal 
 way, as of something that concerned her only 
 remotely. She even found herself noticing 
 the Scotch idioms in Mrs. Gordon's speech, 
 much more prominent than ever before; for 
 she had lived so long in this country that she 
 had dropped many of her native expressions. 
 It was interesting to see how they came back 
 to her tongue in a moment of strong excite- 
 ment. The good woman looked at her 
 anxiously. She evidently was worried by 
 this unnatural calmness. 
 
 ' You must come over this evening, if 
 you want to see him," she said, as she rose 
 to go. " Dr. McKenzie has been seeing 
 to everything, and they are to take him away 
 
The Deluge 363 
 
 in the morning after Mr. William Gardner 
 arrives." 
 
 " I will," Evelyn replied tranquilly. She 
 took up her sewing again and finished it ; about 
 five minutes' work. Then she went down- 
 stairs with it, as it was to be sent home that 
 night. Mrs. Gordon had told Mrs. Pinkerton 
 the news when she let her in, and she had told 
 Miss Stevens. Evelyn felt that she and her 
 girls looked at her with a certain curiosity, and 
 she rose to the occasion, with a sense of savage 
 irritation, which she carefully concealed, saying 
 calmly : 
 
 " Here is the waist, Miss Stevens. I hope 
 you will like it," and while Miss Stevens was 
 admiring it, she added : " Since you are not so 
 busy, I won't take any work for a couple of 
 days. I am much upset over Dr. Gardner's 
 death, and I want to help Mrs. Gordon. He 
 had been so good to my mother and me that 
 he had become more friend than doctor." She 
 said this with perfect composure, and turned 
 and walked unfalteringly from the room. No 
 one should know what this sorrow was to her. 
 It was too sacred for the world to see. 
 
 She went back to her room, and sat there 
 motionless in the long spiring twilight, feeling 
 an absolute inability to realise what it was that 
 had happened. She felt numb and dazed. It 
 
364 The Things that Count 
 
 would be a relief to feel something acutely. 
 The tears had come to her so easily the last 
 few weeks, since she had been feeling the re- 
 action from the strain of her mother's illness; 
 but now they seemed suddenly dried up. The 
 only sensation that she was conscious of was 
 an intense longing to see the Doctor, and she 
 could not rid herself of the impression that he 
 might come in at any moment. He had 
 usually left her mother for his last call, and 
 had come in at dusk an earlier dusk, to be 
 sure dismissing his carriage at the door, and 
 walking home. 
 
 When it was really dark, she threw a little 
 white shawl around her, and went down the 
 street. She shivered when she saw the crepe 
 on the door, and could hardly bring herself to 
 ring the bell. Maria, with a swollen, tear- 
 stained face, opened it for her. In answer to 
 Evelyn's inquiry, she told her that Mrs. Gor- 
 don was in the Doctor's room, and that there 
 was no one else there now, though people had 
 been coming and going all the afternoon. 
 Some of his poor patients had heard of it 
 already, and young doctors had been there by 
 the dozen to see if there was anything they 
 could do. 
 
 " Everybody do just feel awful! " she added 
 with a sob. 
 
The Deluge 365 
 
 Evelyn turned the door-knob of the room, 
 and went softly in. She had never been there 
 before. It was small, and opened out of the 
 Doctor's office, which had been originally the 
 back parlour. The front parlour was used as 
 a waiting-room for patients. Mrs. Gordon had 
 just finished putting clean covers on the bureau 
 and tables. When Evelyn came in, she started 
 to go to the bed and pull down the sheet from 
 the figure lying there, but Evelyn stopped her. 
 
 3 Would you mind would you let me do 
 it ? " she asked brokenly, her composure be- 
 ginning to desert her for the first time. Mrs. 
 Gordon understood, and turned to leave the 
 room. 
 
 " I will see that no one comes in," she said 
 gently. ' You can let yourself out the office 
 door when you go." 
 
 After she had gone, Evelyn stood a few 
 moments motionless. She had always had a 
 strong repulsion from death, for she had never 
 lost any one she had loved before ; but now, to 
 her astonishment, it was all gone. She felt 
 now that she understood his attitude towards 
 Helen's disease, which had been heretofore so 
 incomprehensible to her. She folded back the 
 sheet. He looked to her eyes just as he had 
 looked that night when he had fallen asleep 
 on the library sofa. There was a smile on his 
 
366 The Things that Count 
 
 face, and he looked peaceful and happy, and 
 even younger than he had appeared in life. A 
 great many lines which time had drawn had 
 faded out. At the same time, he seemed so 
 far away from her that, for the first time, 
 Evelyn began to realise the sorrow that had 
 come upon her. She sank on her knees, and 
 hid her face on the edge of the bed. Now she 
 could cry. 
 
 It was over an hour before she stole across 
 the office, fearful of meeting anyone, and 
 let herself out the side door. As she came 
 down the steps, she heard a low whining, 
 and, by the light of the street lamp, saw 
 Mavis, with little Wink beside her, poking 
 her nose out through a grating that opened 
 into the cellar, where the dogs had evidently 
 been shut up. Both of them seemed very 
 anxious and unhappy; but as they always 
 were that when they were shut up, she could 
 not tell if they had any presentiment of what 
 had taken place or not. She stopped and 
 rubbed their noses, and talked to them a 
 little. 
 
 The next day at noon she received, by hand, 
 an envelope addressed to herself in an un- 
 known handwriting. She opened it, and found 
 a note wrapped around a sealed envelope. The 
 note said : 
 
The Deluge 3 6 7 
 
 " Miss EVELYN SMITH, 
 
 " DEAR MADAM, I found in a letter from my 
 late uncle a passage which refers to you, and the 
 enclosed letter for you. Doubtless he himself has 
 communicated to you in this the wishes which he 
 conveys to me, and which, needless to say, are 
 sacred to me. I shall be only too glad to carry 
 them out, and to put myself at your service in any 
 way whatever. I shall do myself the honour of 
 coming to see you at five this afternoon. 
 
 " Very truly yours, 
 "WM. F. GARDNER. 
 
 " P.S. I have mentioned, and shall mention, the 
 bequest and the existence of this letter to no one." 
 
 Evelyn broke the seal of her letter. It was 
 in the Doctor's well-known writing, and dated 
 with the date of his last visit to her. 
 
 " MY DEAR GIRL, When you read this, you will 
 know why it was that I could not tie your life to 
 my short one, even if I had been able to convince 
 myself that you could be happy with me, and sat- 
 isfied with the all I could give you. I had this 
 trouble as a boy, but seemed to outgrow it entirely. 
 It came upon me again at the time of Helen's 
 death, and I have never been free from it since. 
 I have known for some time that my days were 
 numbered. I have wanted to leave you something 
 to make your life easier for you; but at first I 
 
368 The Things that Count 
 
 did n't see how to do it without making talk that 
 would be unpleasant for you. At last, it has just 
 occurred to me to add a postscript to a letter that 
 I wrote to my nephew some time ago, asking him 
 to give you ten thousand dollars without mention- 
 ing it to anyone. He is my residuary legatee. 
 That will about double your income, and make 
 you freer to choose your life. I also asked him to 
 take Mavis home with him, and to let you have her 
 if you ever have a home of your own to take her 
 to. I am especially anxious that you should not 
 forget your promise to me. Grieve for me a little 
 while, and then let it go. I have never trusted 
 myself to tell you what your love has been to me. 
 I have felt sorry for it, for your sake, but to me it 
 has been like a second springtime in the begin- 
 ning of winter. I have felt more and more that, if 
 it had not been for this trouble of mine, I might 
 have renewed my youth in yours. 
 
 " Good by, dear Evelyn. Make yourself all that 
 you have it in you to be. That is the way I should 
 like to have you remember me best. Don't throw 
 away opportunities of happiness because of me. 
 " Most faithfully yours, 
 
 " THOMAS H. GARDNER." 
 
 Mr. William Gardner, when he came, was 
 not so formal as his letter. He was kind, and 
 full of delicacy and tact. His uncle's letter to 
 him had been explanatory of his different in- 
 vestments, and of his affairs generally, which 
 
The Deluge 3 6 9 
 
 were in perfect order. Still, there were some 
 formalities which would make it impossible to 
 settle the estate and pay the legacies for some 
 months. He hoped that it would not incon- 
 venience her. He showed Evelyn the part of 
 his uncle's letter which referred to herself, and 
 considerately walked to the window while she 
 read it. It spoke of her as the daughter of a 
 former patient, and professed an affection and 
 respect for her which were very comforting. 
 
 The idea of staying on at Jersey City was 
 distasteful to her now, but she had no choice. 
 She had no money except the hundred dollars 
 that the Doctor had given her, and no place to 
 go. Even Mrs. Gordon was shortly to go back 
 to Scotland, to spend the rest of her life in her 
 native village. Her savings, together with a 
 legacy the Doctor had left her, would make 
 her a person of wealth and consideration there. 
 
 A day or two later, as she sat sewing for Miss 
 Stevens, Evelyn received a letter from Dolly 
 Van Horn. She expressed her sympathy for 
 the death of Evelyn's mother, of which she 
 had only just heard ; but the real purpose of 
 her letter was to ask Evelyn if she would care 
 to take her position as her uncle's secretary 
 when the family went to Chenook, six weeks 
 later. Her own mother was in such poor 
 health that she could not go so far away from 
 
37 The Things that Count 
 
 her. Evelyn's duties would be very simple. 
 She would have to write Mr. Van Horn's let- 
 ters, which were numerous, and read to him 
 for an hour or two every day. Then she would 
 be expected to walk and ride with him, with- 
 out letting him know that it was not her own 
 choice. Her aunt did not like to have him go 
 around alone since that first stroke, and he 
 would not take a servant. For this she would 
 have fifty dollars a month. She would have 
 a good deal of time to herself, and would be 
 treated quite like one of the family. Her 
 uncle had been delighted with the suggestion 
 when she had made it to him, and so had her 
 aunt. They had both disliked the prospect of 
 taking an absolute stranger into the family. 
 
 Evelyn hated the idea of going to live in 
 another person's house again; but going to 
 Chenook with the Van Horns was so infinitely 
 preferable to staying in the terrible emptiness 
 of Jersey City that she did not have a mo- 
 ment's hesitation. Besides, she would now 
 be on an independent footing, with no obliga- 
 tion to entertain any one. She liked the idea 
 of being with Mr. Van Horn as much as she 
 could like anything, and she would have six 
 weeks in which to get a little used to the grief 
 which was now her constant companion. She 
 gave up her work with Miss Stevens, and 
 
The Deluge 37 l 
 
 started to get her wardrobe in order: with 
 little of her old interest, however. 
 
 One Sunday afternoon, as she came in from 
 a solitary walk, she was surprised to hear that 
 a gentleman was waiting for her in her room. 
 She went up, and found Richard pacing rest- 
 lessly up and down. When he saw her, he 
 came to her and took her left hand the right 
 was filled with wild flowers. 
 
 " I only heard yesterday," he said, without 
 any preliminaries. ' I was in Chicago when 
 it happened, and Hunt did not think to speak 
 to me about it when I got back. I learned it 
 only by chance." Evelyn's eyes slowly filled 
 with tears. 
 
 It seems like the end of the world to me," 
 she answered, taking off her hat, and laying it 
 on a shelf in the closet. She put her flowers 
 in water, then came and sat down in a corner 
 of the sofa. Richard drew a chair up opposite 
 her. 
 
 ' We won't talk about it if you don't want 
 to; but I felt I must come," he said, with an 
 emotion which he did not try to hide. 
 
 " I think I should like to talk about it a 
 little to you. It is killing me, this going over 
 and over it to myself. There has n't been a 
 soul from whom I could bear an allusion." 
 
 ' Would you like to tell me what your 
 
37 2 The Things that Count 
 
 relations were to him at the time ? " he asked 
 as she paused. 
 
 " He knew I loved him. I told him so a 
 great many times. I was always telling him 
 so. He was very fond of me in a way, but he 
 was not in the least in love with me. I will 
 show you the letter he wrote me a week before 
 he died, and that will explain the situation 
 better than I can. It is not a love letter, of 
 course." She took it out of her pocket, and 
 gave it to him, adding: " I like to have it 
 with me." He read it, and gave it back to 
 her without a word. It was some minutes 
 before he asked : 
 
 Did he ever say anything about me to 
 you ? I think I gave myself away most 
 thoroughly that day we took lunch together." 
 
 ' Yes, he did several times. The last time 
 I saw him was one," she answered simply. 
 
 " Do you mind telling me what he said ? " 
 he asked. 
 
 " Not at all. He said that he hoped that I 
 would marry you some day, when I should 
 have got over the freshness of this feeling for 
 him. He was thinking of his death; but I 
 only thought he meant when I should care less 
 because of the hopelessness of it." 
 
 I will not bother you with any more ques- 
 tions to-day," he went on; " but I want you 
 
The Deluge 373 
 
 to know that I shall not change. I care for 
 you a thousand times more than I ever thought 
 I had it in me to care for a woman. I seem to 
 have no other life." 
 
 "It is strange," she remarked, with an 
 impersonal air; " but I never believed in it 
 thoroughly before to-day. I am really con- 
 scious of it for the first time." 
 
 " I did not really care until I found that I 
 had lost you to a better man. I thought I 
 did, of course; but it was all child's play to 
 what I have felt since. I am not going to 
 bother you with this feeling of mine. I shall 
 keep it to myself until you want me to speak 
 of it, if that happy time ever comes." He 
 looked the question that he did not ask, and 
 she answered it. 
 
 I think that it will some day: a long way 
 off; if you do as you say. I am afraid that it 
 never will if you bother me, as you call it. 
 You see, I can't imagine the thing now. It is 
 only because I know the effect of time that I 
 can believe in it at all. Still, I want to marry 
 some time; and he, Dr. Gardner, wanted me 
 to marry you." 
 
 ' You are going to Chenook, I hear," he re- 
 marked presently. 
 
 ' Yes. Do you think it is a good plan ? " 
 
 ' Yes, very. Mrs. Van Horn has invited 
 
374 The Things that Count 
 
 me to come up there for a fortnight, and I was 
 planning to go in September. I can't get 
 away till then. Shall you mind ? " 
 
 " Not at all ; if you come simply as a friend. 
 Richard." 
 
 "Yes?" 
 
 ' You will never hint at this to Lucia or 
 Dolly, will you ?" 
 
 " No, of course not. Well, I must be going. 
 I '11 see you at Chenook, then ? " 
 
 ' Yes. Good-by." 
 
 When the time came to go, Evelyn was very 
 glad to do it. She had been growing more 
 instead of less unhappy in the past six weeks. 
 She could neither eat nor sleep well, and she 
 was so nervous that it required a constant effort 
 to keep from screaming at every sudden noise. 
 She disposed of her furniture at a very good 
 price to Miss Stevens, who had been doing so 
 well in her business that she felt herself just- 
 ified in taking a room for her own use, instead-of 
 sleeping in the workroom. She gave Clara the 
 price of the things that had been her mother's, 
 and the rest of the money she sent to Richard, 
 together with a little of that which the Doctor 
 had given her, as payment for the things he 
 had bought for her. She knew that her unwill- 
 ingness to rest under a money obligation to 
 him would hurt him ; but she could not help it. 
 
The Deluge 375 
 
 At the time appointed, she joined the Van 
 Horns in New York, and went up to Chenook 
 with them. Dolly, who came to see her uncle 
 and aunt off, was shocked at the change in her 
 appearance, and both Mr. and Mrs. Van Horn 
 loaded her down with kindly attentions. They 
 both called her Evelyn, which pleased her very 
 much. 
 
 " She will look like herself again before she 
 has been at Chenook a week, ' ' her uncle assured 
 Dolly. 
 
 It had always surprised her in the old days 
 that Mrs. Van Horn had liked her as well as 
 she did. Evelyn would not have expected it 
 of her, but found it a great comfort that it 
 was so, feeling always the need of having her 
 world in sympathy with her. Affection, too, 
 had always been a necessity with her. The 
 afternoon after their arrival, Evelyn went to 
 Mrs. Van Horn, who was sitting alone on the 
 lawn, and asked her if she might speak with her 
 a minute. 
 
 " Certainly," that lady answered graciously. 
 ' Mrs. Van Horn," Evelyn began slowty, 
 " there is something that I want you and Mr. 
 Van Horn to know. I have had a great sor- 
 row lately, one that I shall not get over easily. 
 I will do my best not to make it obtrusive, but 
 I want you both to be patient with me if I 
 
37 6 The Things that Count 
 
 seem unhappy at times. I will do my best," 
 she repeated sadly. Mrs. Van Horn took her 
 hand and held it while she said : 
 
 " Don't try too hard. We have not engaged 
 you to entertain us. You have had far too 
 much of that sort of thing already. You are 
 as free to be yourself as any one of us. It will 
 be all right, since we shall know that you are 
 not unhappy because of us in any way. Is 
 there anything in particular that I can do to 
 make it easier for you ? " 
 
 " If you will not urge me to go to things, or 
 to see people, I should be very glad. That is 
 one reason why I have told you this. I could 
 not stand a life like my old one now; and, 
 of course, this is sufficient excuse to other 
 people." She touched her black dress lightly 
 as she spoke. 
 
 ' Very well. It shall be as you wish. 
 When your work is done, your time is your 
 own. My husband spends a great deal of his 
 time puttering about the garden, and I feel per- 
 fectly safe about him there in sight of my 
 windows." 
 
 " I shall like to help him there," said Evelyn. 
 " I love gardening. You must give me 
 enough real work to do to make me feel that 
 I earn my salary, or I won't stay." 
 
 " There will be plenty for that," Mrs. Van 
 
The Deluge 377 
 
 Horn answered with a smile. Evelyn started 
 to go back to the house, but Mrs. Van Horn 
 stopped her. 
 
 " I was thinking," she began, with a little 
 hesitation, " I was thinking that it might be 
 good for you if you were to talk to Twiller a 
 little about this trouble of yours. He is so 
 sympathetic that people often feel a desire to 
 tell him things. You don't want to shut it in 
 yourself. It will be bad for you." 
 
 ' I may want to some time," she answered 
 gratefully. "It is too fresh now." After 
 this, Mrs. and Mr. Van Horn were kinder to 
 her than ever. 
 
 Notwithstanding many alleviations, the sum- 
 mer was a very long and a very unhappy one 
 to Evelyn. She felt such an acute sense of 
 loneliness sometimes, especially in the long 
 twilights, that it seemed as if she could not 
 stand it : she should do something desperate. 
 Often, when she stayed out of doors late, dear 
 old Mr. Van Horn would come to get her and 
 take her in ; or, if the night were warm, he 
 would stay out with her, talking to her and 
 trying to divert her mind. Evelyn felt very 
 grateful to him, and always met him more 
 than half way. On the whole, she managed 
 to keep her unhappiness to herself, and to ap- 
 pear tolerably cheerful and contented. 
 
378 The Things that Count 
 
 They had very little company, since it tired 
 Mr. Van Horn too much since his stroke. 
 In the autumn, Richard came; and, for the 
 first time, Evelyn began to feel a little like 
 herself again. They took long walks, rides, 
 and sails together in the hours that Mr. Van 
 Horn devoted to his garden. Both he and his 
 wife threw the two together on every possible 
 occasion. Richard kept his word, and met 
 her simply as a friend, but she never lost con- 
 sciousness of the depth of his feeling for her. 
 It touched her inexpressibly, the way he took 
 care of her. Her smallest want was not allowed 
 to pass unnoticed, and if she spoke he had ears 
 for no one else. It had been different in the 
 old days. His independence had been the trait 
 that had impressed her most forcibly. Now 
 she felt his love in everything he said or did 
 not say, everything he did or left undone. 
 She was conscious of missing him in the 
 month that they spent at Chenook after he 
 left. 
 
 Evelyn still remained with the Van Horns 
 after their return to New York. It was not 
 really necessary, as she now had plenty of 
 money. Her debts were paid, and her legacy 
 had been placed to her credit in the bank. 
 This money Mr. Van Horn had invested for 
 her. Nevertheless, she could not bear the 
 
The Deluge 379 
 
 idea of going off to live by herself somewhere, 
 and she had grown much attached to the Van 
 Horns, and they to her. Besides, Dolly's 
 mother was now too ill for her to leave her 
 even for the day. 
 
 When she was back in New York, Evelyn 
 found a little of her old energy returning to 
 her. She began to take music lessons, joined 
 a German conversation class, and took up a 
 course of reading. She could hire her sewing 
 done now, and she felt it was high time that 
 she began to fill up the gaps in her education. 
 Richard came to the house every Sunday, pro- 
 fessedly to see the whole family; but it soon 
 grew to be a matter of course that he should 
 have an hour alone with Evelyn in the music- 
 room before dinner. 
 
 One Sunday afternoon, in the early part of 
 May, he came in and found her in a lavender 
 silk blouse. 
 
 " Oh, I like that! " he exclaimed. 
 ' I am not going to wear plain black any 
 more; it is so unbecoming to me," she ex- 
 plained. " Is n't it spring-like to-day, Richard? 
 The season has been so late, and now it is 
 jumping to make up for lost time. Mr. Van 
 Horn and I were in the Park this morning, and 
 we could almost see the leaves grow. We are 
 going to ride out on the Drive to-morrow." 
 
380 The Things that Count 
 
 Richard did not answer. He was looking at 
 her intently. 
 
 ' Evelyn/' he said, " I have been very 
 patient." 
 
 ' Yes, I know you have," she answered 
 sympathetically. 
 
 " But, somehow, to-day I feel as if that 
 blouse of yours were a sign of hope. Your 
 manner seems different, too. You seem your 
 old self." 
 
 "I hope not!" she said fervently. "I 
 don't want to be that old self of mine. I don't 
 know that I shall ever do anything especially 
 different because of what I have been through. 
 People in books who have had troubles always 
 take to philanthropy ; but I hate the way they 
 make a fad of it nowadays so much that I could 
 never do that; and there does n't seem to be 
 much else that is conspicuously virtuous. 
 Still, I shall be a different person all my life 
 through; and, after all, it is being more than 
 doing that counts." She hesitated a minute, 
 then added in a low voice: " A lesser man 
 could have done all that Dr. Gardner did." 
 She said his name slowly, almost reverently. 
 
 It was what he was that made his influence 
 so unbounded with everyone who knew him. 
 I felt that after his death especially, when I 
 heard how people were mourning for him. 
 
The Deluge 381 
 
 But I did put this waist on with a purpose to- 
 day, Richard. I meant it to be what you took 
 it to be. We are both young, and there is 
 spring outside, and there ought to be spring 
 inside, too. I felt that so strongly when I was 
 in the Park this morning; and then Mr. Van 
 Horn talked to me a little about you, and I 
 felt that he was right." She held out her 
 hand to him as he spoke, but he put his arms 
 around her and drew her to him. He held her 
 there in silence for a few minutes; then he 
 kissed her gravely and lingeringly. " You 
 don't mind this ? " he asked anxiously. 
 Evelyn laughed. It sounded strangely in the 
 intensity of their mood, but they both felt an 
 immediate relief from strain. 
 
 " No," she answered demurely; " I find it 
 very nice. I have always been fond of you, 
 you know, and I like this sort of thing." 
 
 " And is that all ? " he asked sadly. 
 
 " All just now; but it will be, it shall be, 
 more. I know that I shall grow to love you 
 very much when I once let myself go and 
 begin. I have been holding myself back; not 
 consciously, however. It was only when Mr. 
 Van Horn talked to me to-day that I realised 
 that I was not keeping my promise. I am not 
 a woman who can live alone," she went on a 
 minute later. " I am not self-sufficient. I 
 
382 The Things that Count 
 
 crave sympathy, companionship, affection. I 
 want the sense of personal, bodily nearness. 
 I want your love. I don't want you to try 
 to hide it from me any longer. I want to 
 feel it every second. You need not be afraid, 
 Richard. I shall return it. I know that I 
 shall, fully and completely. It will not be the 
 way I cared for him ; but it will satisfy you. 
 It is strange that we can love in such different 
 ways," she continued speculatively after an 
 interval. ;< I was an entirely different person 
 with Dr. Gardner than I am with you. I was 
 utterly subdued, conquered, with him/ He 
 dominated me completely, while with you I 
 hope that I shall never abuse my power," she 
 broke off, putting her arms around his neck, 
 and holding him close to her. 
 
 ' ' It has been so long, so long ! ' ' said Richard 
 brokenly. 
 
 " Come, let us go and tell Mr. Van Horn," 
 Evelyn suggested, a little later. " He is in the 
 library, taking a nap, I fancy; but he will be 
 glad to be wakened for this; and, besides, it 
 is nearly dinner time." 
 
 The dear old man put his arms around 
 Evelyn and kissed her when Richard had told 
 him the news. His kind face fairly beamed 
 with pleasure. 
 
 " You are doing the right thing, my dear 
 
The Deluge 
 
 383 
 
 child," he said to her. ' I am talking about 
 something that I know all about," he added a 
 little sadly. "It is natural to let things go, 
 and it is a sin to spend one's youth grieving 
 over what is irrevocably lost." 
 
 ' We are going to be very happy," Evelyn 
 answered with a smile. 
 
U a l^tea&etto gnigfet 
 
 THE THINGS THAT COUNT 
 
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