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THE WORLD 
 AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
OTHER BOOKS BY ARTHUR TRAIN 
 
 THE GOLDFISH 
 
 THE PRISONER AT THE BAR 
 
 COURTS, CRIMINALS AND THE CAMORRA 
 
 TRUE STORIES OF CRIME 
 MCALLISTER AND HIS DOUBLE 
 
 THE CONFESSIONS OF ARTEMAS QUIBBLE 
 
 C. Q., OR IN THE WIRELESS HOUSE 
 
 THE BUTLER S STORY 
 THE MAN WHO ROCKED THE EARTH 
 
 MORTMAIN 
 
THE WORLD 
 AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 BY 
 
 ARTHUR TRAIN 
 
 Author of "The Goldfish," etc. 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 CHARLES SCRIBNER S SONS 
 1917 
 

 * 
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1917, BY 
 CHARLES SCRIBNER S SONS 
 
 Published October, 1917 
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1917, BY CURTIS PUBLISHING CO. 
 
FREDERICA PULITZER 
 
THE 
 WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 THE day Tom Kelly was born the "Old Elm" on 
 Boston Common was struck by lightning. This be 
 ing one of those phenomena of nature denominated 
 "acts of God" by the insurance companies, the cor 
 rect inhabitants of the ancient New England capital 
 were somewhat in doubt as to whether to consider 
 the occurrence a "deliberately unfriendly act" on 
 the part of the Deity, or to regard it merely as 
 an uncalled-for and rather ill-advised eccentricity. 
 However, by this fact the well-informed reader can 
 fix with accuracy the date upon which this story 
 opens. 
 
 There was doubtless no significance in the coinci 
 dence of the accident to the historic Tree with that 
 other quite common and natural event, which had 
 taken place earlier in the day in one of the upper 
 chambers of a seventeen-foot brick house on New- 
 bury Street, in the district of "made" land known 
 as the "Back Bay." So far as Boston was con 
 cerned, the advent of the infant Tom attracted no 
 more attention than did the exit of Dr. Tucker 
 
Ji \WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 from the Kelly domicile. Frankly, it created none 
 at all. Dr. Tucker was as much of an institution 
 in Boston as the "Old Elm," and not to have been 
 guided into the world by his skilled, though some 
 what effeminate hand, would have been, indeed, 
 to argue oneself unborn. But this fate, at any 
 rate, Tom escaped, and his arrival was in every 
 respect as punctilious as the local requirements 
 demanded. 
 
 As Dr. Tucker came neatly down the small wind 
 ing stairs he was waylaid in the tiny hall by the 
 elder Kelly, a short, red-headed, aggressive-looking 
 person, who had been impatiently biting his mus 
 tache for upward of an hour in the adjacent dining- 
 room. 
 
 "A beautiful little boy!" smiled Dr. Tucker 
 brightly. "And mother is doing nicely !" 
 
 The red-headed man mumbled something that 
 might have been taken either as an imprecation or 
 a rendition of thanks. As a matter of fact, he felt 
 abashed that a man of Dr. Tucker s well-known 
 social position should see him and his in their 
 nakedness. For Mrs. Dr. Tucker had been a Rob- 
 bins! Had Dr. Tucker been called Dr. Jones or 
 Dr. Watts he, Kelly, would have slapped him upon 
 the nearest adjacent part of his anatomy, and of 
 fered him a slug of whiskey. But in the face of the 
 husband of a Robbins he was dumb. There was a 
 disgusting atmosphere of benignity about this re 
 fined gentleman who condescended so efficiently to 
 the domestic exigencies of the Kellys, and deigned 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 3 
 
 to send them a substantial bill afterward for his 
 services. 
 
 Dr. Tucker did not shake hands with Mr. Kelly, 
 for he did not care to cultivate the merely social 
 side of his profession. So he nodded patronizingly 
 to him, lifted his tall silk hat lightly from the black 
 walnut horror that filled one entire side of the front 
 hall of the house, reluctantly grasped his small 
 black bag, and tripped down the four front stone 
 steps to the brick sidewalk. At the bottom he 
 stopped. 
 
 "I will return this afternoon/ he remarked 
 crisply to Kelly, who had followed him out and was 
 standing in the sunshine on the top of the steps. 
 Kelly nodded. 
 
 "All right/ 5 he answered in a slightly hostile tone. 
 For some unaccountable reason he would have liked 
 to accelerate the doctor s progress with a kick. 
 
 Dr. Tucker, in that rarefied aura always surround 
 ing the successful men of New England, continued 
 on his way down the street, totally unconscious of 
 the feelings which he had so innocently stimulated 
 in the heart of the man who would later send him 
 a check. He had a case coming on down nearer 
 the Public Garden, and a couple of calls to make on 
 the way up on ladies who were doing as well as 
 could be expected. 
 
 Kelly turned slowly indoors, observing with rage 
 the blue iridescence of the silver-plated, but neg 
 lected, bell-knob which defiantly told all the world 
 that at "23" dwelt "Kelly." He had hesitated a 
 
4 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 long time before making up his mind whether or 
 not to put his name on that bell. It was bad enough 
 to be named Kelly in Boston without flaunting it 
 in the faces of the dapper gentlemen and correctly 
 sedate females who hastened so assiduously by, as 
 if deeming it quite improper to "go down- town" 
 merely for the pleasure of it. Then the faint, di 
 luted traces of Irish in his blood had cried out (the 
 Kellys had come over in 1635), and he had told 
 Mr. Putnam, the "Glazier and Hanger," to en 
 grave the name in letters so big that neither King 
 George nor anybody else would need spectacles to 
 read it. For a while after that he had felt quite 
 John Hancockian. 
 
 Mr. Putnam in due course had engraved the said 
 plate, and had duly affixed it to the stone jamb of 
 the vestibule of the house, connecting the knob or 
 "pull" with a copper wire exposed on the inside 
 of the vestibule which ran through the interior 
 complexities of the floors and walls of the dwelling 
 until it reached the kitchen, where it joined itself to 
 a dangling bell, one of a dozen dangling bells, on 
 a strip of wood near the ceiling. When anybody 
 jerked the knob on the outside of the house, the 
 energy this generated was transferred along the wire 
 to the bell in the kitchen so that it jangled loudly. 
 Likewise, it must be confessed, did a few of the other 
 bells but an intelligent cook quickly learned to dis 
 criminate sympathetically among the parlor, dining- 
 room, bedroom, and front door-bells. In reality only 
 the front door-bell ever jangled, since the "second" 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 5 
 
 girl was always up-stairs, anyway, and you could not 
 expect the cook, even if earning four dollars and a 
 quarter a week, to come traipsing up three flights of 
 stairs to see what was wanted. 
 
 In Boston in the latter decades of the nineteenth 
 century, the surname of every sober, decent man, 
 provided he had reached the social status at which 
 it was uttered at all and not merely ignored, was 
 prefixed by a " mister." "Mister" that man was 
 called Mister Tighe, Mister Higgins, Mister Doyle 
 whether plumber, butcher, hack-driver, horse-car 
 conductor, grocery-man, or remover of garbage. 
 The Declaration of Independence, erroneously as 
 sumed to have been composed by a Bostonian, or 
 one at least connected by blood with Boston, had 
 contained the sacrosanct assertion that all men had 
 been created equal. However they might have been 
 created, all Boston knew that they were equal no 
 longer, but being entitled to "mister" at birth, the 
 handle could not easily be separated thereafter from 
 a vessel no matter how cracked or weak. More 
 over, to speak of a policeman as Mister Grady, or 
 to a postman as Mister O Toole, tended to keep him 
 at a distance otherwise impossible, and as was proper. 
 Imagine a Boston lady or gentleman in 1885 ad 
 dressing a bluecoat as "Grady"! It would have 
 instantly put him upon an impossibly familiar foot 
 ing ! So all, without exception, when engaging one 
 of those strange and dangerous artifices of man 
 which even to-day stand at the corners of the Back 
 Bay behind impossibly stiff and rheumatic cab- 
 
6 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 horses, addressed the owner as Mr. Timmins or 
 Mr. McCarthy. They may do so still. I fear 
 not. 
 
 Kelly, senior, entered the vestibule, mechanically 
 wiping his feet on the threadbare cocoa-mat inside, 
 and tried the inner door. The catch had snapped. 
 In his annoyance at Dr. Tucker he had foolishly 
 locked himself out. Thus he was compelled to re 
 trace his steps and ring the door-bell, whose tin 
 tinnabulations made themselves dimly heard through 
 the laundry window, which opened into the " grass- 
 plot " on the left of the steps. There was no grass 
 in the plot. In default thereof it was adorned with 
 several pieces of string, some bits of paper, two clay 
 marbles, a scattering of incipient burdock-bushes, 
 and a large hole where various wandering dogs had 
 scratched a tribute to cleanliness. 
 
 Kelly had yanked the knob viciously and the bell 
 jangled a long, long time with unexpected penulti 
 mate drops of sound. Meantime the eye of the 
 master of the house savagely swept over the bare 
 earth of his " front grass-plot." He was always in 
 tending to have it fixed up by Mr. Calderone, the 
 "Flower-Place" (hyphenated) man, over on Boylston 
 Street. Everything in Boston in the eighties was 
 capitalized and hyphenated, thus gaining a double 
 dignity. He mentally picked up the string and the 
 scraps of paper, filled the canine excavations, and 
 then the master himself descended and picked up 
 the two marbles. A reminiscent softening made it 
 self apparent about his mouth and nose. He dusted 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 7 
 
 the marbles off on his trousers leg and placed them 
 in his right-hand pocket. 
 
 "They ll do for a starter!" he thought. Even 
 then his vision flew to rocking-horses, tin soldiers, 
 stamp-books, hoops, bicycles all the things that he 
 had never had himself. With a changed expression he 
 leaped up the four steps and stood excitedly waiting. 
 
 A heavy pounding, like the tread of an ox or a 
 small river-horse, was shortly audible. Then the 
 door rattled and was pulled violently open from 
 inside, and in the opening, in a militant attitude, 
 appeared the stern presence of the Kelly cook. Her 
 skirts were gathered up in some mysterious fashion, 
 displaying the scallops around the tops of her worn 
 kid shoes, and her sleeves were rolled back to the 
 elbows. Her calico dress was open at the neck, 
 which, gaunt as an eagle s, supported a strongly 
 marked and finely featured face, where glowed 
 dominant will, industry, and self-respect. Above 
 the woman s deep gray eyes the thin gray hair was 
 drawn straight back into a grotesque knob at the 
 back of her head. She was a typical "Biddy," but 
 the kind of "Biddy" that has been the mother of 
 many a statesman. 
 
 "Begorra !" she exclaimed, panting, " tis the mas- 
 ther ! And me up to me elbows in the suds ! Where- 
 ever have ye bin, wid a new little gintleman born 
 this five minutes ago, as I heard meself from up 
 stairs tru the spakin -tube? And the missus doin 
 fine, and whatever do yez think, sor tis the weight 
 of it I m tellin ye " 
 
8 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 "Yes?" said Mr. Kelly inquiringly, as he pushed 
 by her. "What was the weight, Bridget?" 
 
 It was characteristic of Dr. Tucker to omit the 
 mention of trifling details. 
 
 "Lawd save us ! Twas eleven pound !" cried the 
 cook, "and the missus no bigger than me little 
 sister Annie!" 
 
 "Eleven pounds!" gasped Mr. Kelly. "Eleven 
 pounds !" And then for the first time he smiled. 
 
 As the reader may perhaps have already divined, 
 the Kelly s were of Boston, but not precisely in it. 
 Brahmin social refinements and their reflexes, par 
 ticularly those so intricate and complex as involve 
 the "Back Bay" in their tangles of heredity and re 
 lationship, are past unravelling. For Kelly the 
 elder had been born on Mt. Vernon Street in a house 
 occupied by Kellys for many generations, and num 
 bered among his ancestors a couple of generals in 
 the Continental and Colonial forces, a governor of 
 the State, and a judge of the Supreme Court. 
 
 Yet in spite of Mr. Kelly s unimpeachable family 
 tree, and the genealogical peaches and plums it 
 bore among its branches, he was no more to his 
 fellow citizens of Boston than if he had been born 
 in Roxbury, and the son of a Presbyterian. For 
 the era of which we write was the era of the in 
 vasion of Boston by the Irish, an invasion which, 
 however much it did eventually for the country at 
 large, vastly embarrassed the hidebound patricians 
 of the Back Bay, and shook the temple of republican 
 tradition to its very foundations. Aforetime it had 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 9 
 
 been enough for one or two of the old families to 
 announce who should or should not be mayor, al 
 derman, or senator, and the stately dignity of an 
 untainted past was essential to one who would con 
 descend to elevate public office. Only those could 
 govern or represent their fellow citizens who had 
 been baptized in the blood of the Pilgrim Fathers, 
 or of the worthies of Salem. But the advent of the 
 Irish was like a permanent invasion of the Goths, 
 brutally sweeping before it every cherished habit 
 and custom of the plebian mind which had rendered 
 the social dictatorship of the old families so despotic. 
 With shocking disregard of all finer feeling, and with 
 impudent independence, these new citizens pro 
 ceeded to choose their own leaders, erect their own 
 cross-crowned churches and cathedrals, and elect as 
 many as they could of the officers of the munici 
 pality, until the old families drew their petticoats 
 and other apparel about their thin legs, and with 
 horror declared that the Irish horde, if unchecked, 
 would become rulers of the country, and make it 
 tributary to the Pope of Rome. 
 
 Thus, merely to bear a Hibernian name, however 
 distinguished, was just cause for the ignoring of its 
 owner by the haughty and resentful patricians of 
 Beacon Hill and the West End, who viewed him 
 with suspicion, as possibly implicated in some 
 deep-laid Fenian conspiracy for the subversion 
 of the national government. To be Irish, even 
 in the tenth degree, was sufficient reason for being 
 socially damned in Boston in the seventies and 
 
10 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 left shivering in the chilly atmosphere of the 
 unrecognized. 
 
 Moreover, it was distinctly bad form for one thus 
 "born on the wrong side of the street" to call at 
 tention to the circumstance in any way whatsoever. 
 To do so was an infraction of the Christian duty, 
 to exist uncomplainingly in that state of life into 
 which it had pleased God to call him; and to ad 
 mit frankly that one was an outcast and to defy 
 the social edict by open indifference was an unpar 
 donable offense to Boston s sense of decency. Now 
 Kelly, senior, not only admitted that he had been 
 "born on the wrong side of the street/ but he 
 astonished and terrified his female relations, includ 
 ing his wife, by announcing that he did not care. 
 Not to care was felt in the Back Bay to be the 
 supreme and final touch of vulgarity. Those who 
 were not in the Blue Book endeavored to show their 
 innate breeding and knowledge of the world by ad 
 mitting the propriety of the social verdict against 
 them. Had Kelly been a truly nice man he would 
 have accepted gratefully such crumbs of recognition 
 as fell from the social table. 
 
 But Kelly had done more. He had, in flagrant 
 violation of the eugenics of Boston, married a lady 
 who had been born in Chelsea. This, so to speak, 
 finished Kelly. He had been an ambitious young 
 fellow, occupying a junior position in the office of 
 a genteel old lawyer, who lived near the golden 
 dome of the State House, in a red brick mansion 
 with a cellar full of cobweb-covered bottles of 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY n 
 
 antique Madeira and Medford rum. With the name 
 of Kelly, even spelled with an extra "e," he could 
 not aspire to a partnership, but he might in time 
 have inherited the practice, had he not fallen in 
 love with the daughter of a threadbare commission 
 merchant, who resided in a socially unmapped wil 
 derness, and thereby sealed the doom of his pro 
 fessional career so far as old Squire Mason was 
 concerned. 
 
 "Dammit, sirs! It shows the fellow has no 
 taste!" exploded the old autocrat over his dinner- 
 table on learning the news; and from that moment 
 Kelly s future became dim. Had he sought to in 
 duce one of the cold virgins of the Back Bay to 
 become Mrs. Kelly, he could not have been blamed, 
 poor fellow but to marry some woman from Chel 
 sea ! Or had he sought marital happiness in Jamaica 
 Plain, Dorchester, or even South Boston, allowances 
 might have been made for the vagaries of Eros 
 but Chelsea! Moreover, he had red hair, which 
 called attention to these things. 
 
 So Kelly, in spite of his genuine blue blood, his 
 excellent education at Harvard College, his eminent 
 ability as a pleader and expounder of common law, 
 was regarded by his fellows as more or less of a 
 failure, or at least a person of no particular im 
 portance one way or another, and having married 
 the lady of his heart he hung out a shingle for him 
 self and plodded along the legal path alone. As 
 time went on, he attracted a few clients, also socially 
 unknown, and gradually built up a practice which 
 
12 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 enabled him to lease the brick house on Newbury 
 Street, in which the momentous event heretofore 
 recorded had just occurred. He was a man of 
 common sense and saw clearly that he was the 
 victim of a narrowness of social vision in others, but 
 he loved his native city, and would have languished 
 elsewhere. He was too proud to belong to any but 
 the best clubs, and so belonged to none; and he 
 nursed his grudge to this extent, that not being in 
 vited to the best houses he did not care to go any 
 where. It was hardly to be wondered at that he 
 felt no enthusiasm about introducing another Kelly 
 to the unreceptive society in which he lived. This 
 explains his lack of exhilaration on receiving the 
 doctor s announcement, and his first feeling of sub 
 dued resentment toward that worthy man. Some 
 times he would have liked to explode a bomb in the 
 middle of the Boston Public Garden and rudely 
 shock the smug self-satisfaction of his fellow citizens. 
 Had he lived he might have done so. But he did 
 not survive to make himself thus vulgarly conspicu 
 ous. Two years after Tom s birth he caught a chill 
 while walking home in the March rain across the 
 "Common," and in less than a week expired of 
 double pneumonia. A doctor of irreproachable so 
 cial antecedents officiated at his last moments. 
 
II 
 
 "IF he isn t better by five o clock I m going to 
 send for Aunt Eliza," said his mother, laying Tom, 
 aged three, back in his crib, where he continued to 
 wriggle and squirm in defiance of all propriety. 
 
 " That ll be good, mum," agreed Maggie, the 
 nurse who had attended Tom since his birth and 
 knew every symptom of infantile ailments. "She ll 
 be after bringin some more seeds, I m thinkin ." 
 
 The seeds referred to were pumpkin-seeds, an 
 infallible remedy in Aunt Eliza s opinion for certain 
 minor disorders, and were carefully preserved by 
 her in a paper bag for her periodical visits. These 
 and a liberal use of olive oil were all, his mother 
 fondly believed, that preserved Tom from follow 
 ing his father promptly into the next world. 
 
 Aunt Eliza lived in South Boston a day s 
 journey, as Tom later discovered, by transferring 
 horse-cars and when she came over she usually 
 spent the night. Being herself an Osgood, she had 
 not regarded favorably her niece s alliance with a 
 Kelly, but since the offender s death she had re 
 sumed diplomatic relations. She was Tom s earli 
 est and most vivid impression by no means a cheer 
 ful one and for many years his ideas of womankind 
 were tainted by the recollection of Aunt Eliza s 
 
 13 
 
14 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 acrimonious visage in its ruffled cap, while, as a child, 
 he assumed as a matter of course that the normal 
 subjects of conversation between adult human 
 beings were sickness, bereavement, and the proper 
 conduct of funeral ceremonies. She was a vigorous, 
 independent old party of seventy-six years, with a 
 definiteness of opinion and a dominant character 
 that at times entirely effaced her niece Mrs. Kelly, 
 a weak, retiring lady who had never quite regained 
 her self-possession after " marrying onto the Back 
 Bay," and who, having no confidence in herself, 
 leaned heavily on her strong-minded relative. 
 
 "I think you can light the gas now, Maggie," 
 said Mrs. Kelly. "How does he seem to you?" 
 
 "Oh, sure, he s better. He ain t near so rest 
 less," reassured Maggie, as she fumbled for a sul 
 phur match in the china pig on the mantelpiece. 
 The gas ignited with a pop, and the room, which 
 had been filled with shadows, became dimly illu 
 minated. 
 
 It was the room in which Tom had been born, 
 and everything in it gave evidence of the modest 
 circumstances of his parents. The bed and bureau 
 were of massive walnut a wedding present, but 
 the cheap Brussels carpet was threadbare and the 
 heavily framed pictures were lithographs of dying 
 stags or of Biblical ladies going to the well or re 
 turning from harvest. Christmas cards, cheap 
 calendars, and "ornaments" worked in worsted 
 adorned the tops of shelves, the mirrors, or dangled 
 from the gas-jets. An illuminated worsted scroll 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 15 
 
 invited the reader to "Look unto me and be ye 
 saved." One door led to the narrow main hall 
 way and another to a dark and stuffy "dressing- 
 room," which in turn communicated with a dank 
 bathroom boasting a tin tub and a "set bowl." 
 
 Across the street could be seen a few palely 
 glowing windows, and just then, a man with a 
 brisk walk, and carrying a pole with a bulgy end, 
 stopped at the lamp-post opposite, thrust the pole 
 upward, fumbled with it mysteriously, and hast 
 ened off again, leaving the lamp behind him lighted. 
 
 "I ve always wondered how he does that!" 
 sighed Mrs. Kelly, smoothing back her hair and 
 tucking away the loose wisps in a manner somehow 
 suggesting that as Providence had not seen fit to 
 impart to her that priceless knowledge it was per 
 haps a little wrong to speculate about the matter. 
 Yet she had expressed exactly the same idea in just 
 those words every night for the thirteen years of 
 her married life while waiting for her husband to 
 come home from the office. For she had been mar 
 ried thirteen years before Tom had arrived. And 
 now that her husband was dead and Tom was three 
 years old, she still continued to wonder about the 
 gas-man. 
 
 "I wish I d sent for the doctor," she added anx 
 iously, while she pulled down the window-curtains. 
 As Maggie Me Gee knew that she didn t wish any 
 thing of the sort, but that the remark was simply 
 by way of making conversation, she did not vouch 
 safe an answer. 
 
1 6 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 Most of Mrs. Kelly s remarks were of the same 
 general nature assertions of states of mind thrown 
 out at random on the merest chance of entangling 
 some sort of reply, a continual procession of mild 
 remonstrances to the effect that whatever had been 
 done should have been done differently, negative 
 reflections upon the weather and the general self- 
 conduct of nature. 
 
 She was about to hazard the thought that it was 
 long past time for the newspaper to come, when a 
 faint jangle from the lower regions caused both 
 women to start with surprise. 
 
 "Well, I never! Who can that be!" exclaimed 
 Mrs. Kelly. 
 
 "Who d ever be comin this hour ! " echoed Maggie. 
 
 The pounding of Bridget s feet upon the back 
 stairs smothered the dying tinkles of the bell, the 
 chain rattled on the front door, and a medley of 
 cries and ejaculations arose from below. 
 
 "I do believe it s Aunt Eliza!" gasped Mrs. 
 Kelly. "She s come to spend the night! Run an 
 see if the bed in the spare room is made up." 
 
 Maggie hastily fled through the hall to the rear, 
 while her mistress looked over the stairs. 
 
 "What is it, Bridget?" she called, for although she 
 knew perfectly well what it was, she desired to 
 make social capital of her subsequent astonishment. 
 
 "It s me, Caroline," came up from below in the 
 raucous tones of Miss Osgood. "Such a time s I ve 
 had!" 
 
 "Gracious!" shouted Mrs. Kelly in accents of 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 17 
 
 hysteria. "What an hour! I should have thought 
 you would have started earlier." 
 
 Miss Osgood paused breathless on the landing to 
 allow the exchange of further amenities. 
 
 "Look out for that pie-shaped stair," called down 
 her niece anxiously. "You know Miss Trollop 
 slipped on it and rolled all the way down and she 
 three hundred pounds !" 
 
 Mrs. Kelly ignored the fact that she had com 
 municated this same warning to Aunt Eliza every 
 time she had ascended that flight of stairs for the 
 last sixteen years. 
 
 Her aunt made no reply, and resumed her climb. 
 
 "Here," added Mrs. Kelly. "Wait while I 
 light the hall gas!" 
 
 She rushed frantically back to the front room, 
 secured a match and made a great display of try 
 ing to light up. 
 
 "Don t light it!" ordered Aunt Eliza. "We 
 ain t goin to set in the hall, be we?" 
 
 Mrs. Kelly with seeming regret blew out the match. 
 She had had no real intention of lighting the hall 
 gas. From motives of economy the halls were not 
 lighted in the Kelly mansion and Aunt Eliza 
 knew it. 
 
 " WeU " she admitted, "I don t s pose we are" 
 
 Then she embraced her aunt vigorously and gave 
 her a loud smack on the left cheek. Miss Osgood 
 emitted a kind of cluck and marched on toward the 
 front room. 
 
 "I should have thought you would have taken 
 
1 8 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 cold being out so late," said Tom s mother, follow 
 ing her. 
 
 "Such a time s I had gettin here!" repeated 
 Miss Osgood, with more than her usual importance. 
 "I had to wait nearly forty minutes at the bridge !" 
 
 "Dear me!" replied her niece. "Let me take 
 your shawl ! I was just goin to send for you." 
 
 Miss Osgood looked at her with feigned awe. 
 
 "Do you know," she said in a whisper. "Some- 
 thin told me ! I just knew it ! " 
 
 She surrendered her shawl, disclosing a large, 
 half-filled paper bag beneath. 
 
 "What s that?" inquired Mrs. Kelly politely. 
 
 "Punkin-seed," announced Aunt Eliza "for 
 Tom!" 
 
Ill 
 
 TOM S earliest recollections were of lying in his 
 mother s arms and seeing the crescent moon across 
 the housetops. But he did not remember his mother 
 ever singing to him. Mrs. Kelly, poor lady, never 
 sang anything except hymns in a thin quaver. 
 She took life far too seriously for that. To her 
 Tom was a responsibility that left no vitality for 
 playfulness or even the purr of mere comfort. She 
 had been thirty when she married, she was forty- 
 three when Tom was born, and she was now nearly 
 fifty. Her girlhood had been a drab affair of a 
 shabby genteel sort from which active sports had 
 been excluded as vulgar. Any natural mirth she 
 might have had as a child had long since succumbed 
 to the apprehensions of her New England con 
 science. She did not really believe in a personal 
 devil with a red tail, but she pretended to Tom that 
 she did and felt herself in danger of hell fire be 
 cause she did not. Dear, well-meaning lady ! And 
 though she loved Tom with a passionate devotion 
 was he not all she had on earth ? yet the restraint 
 of her Puritan upbringing and the belief that life 
 was so serious a matter deprived her of the ability 
 to give any natural expression to her feelings and 
 forced her to mask her real affection under a 
 demeanor of self-conscious severity. 
 
 19 
 
20 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 By day he lay in her lap in the same place, and 
 instead of the moon, watched the little globules of 
 light, reflected from the water standing on the tin 
 roof of the bay window, dance on the ceiling. 
 They danced and danced so jollily that he did not 
 miss his mother s singing, and he would laugh with 
 delight, and then his glance would stray to where a 
 steel-engraved Madonna with great soulful eyes 
 gazed down upon another baby, just like him, who 
 lay in her arms and beyond to where the red 
 worsted motto urged him to "Look unto me and 
 be ye saved" from what? 
 
 These and the smell of things being boiled in an 
 alcohol-lamp were what he remembered most in 
 after-years. Gradually, however, he took notice 
 of others Aunt Eliza with her perennial bag of 
 pumpkin-seeds, Fanny Trollop the dropsical lady 
 who had made the pie-shaped stair famous by 
 slipping on it, and Sarah the "second" girl. It 
 never occurred to Tom in later years to wonder 
 who the "first" girl was or whether there had ever 
 been any. Certainly there had been none during 
 his own brief existence. 
 
 Besides Aunt Eliza there were other aunts and 
 female cousins who lived vaguely somewhere in the 
 suburbs and who "came in on the cars" to spend 
 the day and assist in the upbringing of Tom, and 
 there were also a few decrepit and nondescript un 
 related spinsters who were always referred to as 
 "Lizzie" this or "Flossie" that. Tom never knew 
 who they were or where they came from. So far 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 21 
 
 as he could ascertain there were no husbands per 
 taining to any of the aunts and cousins. They were 
 very much alike, all of them their aspect betray 
 ing an underlying resentment against society at 
 large and an aggressive distrust of man; and they 
 seemed to hold Caroline, Tom s mother, in a sort of 
 contemptuous awe. Likewise they were very curi 
 ous about Tom, and took part assiduously and en 
 thusiastically at his bath and various rehabilitations. 
 In spite of the officious attentions of his mother s 
 female relatives and her own well meaning, but 
 highly unintelligent, efforts to safeguard him from 
 the slightest exposure to the elements, Tom man 
 aged not only to survive, but also in what seemed a 
 surprisingly short time to perform the miracle of 
 self-locomotion. He had been oiled, dosed, phys 
 icked, bandaged, and bundled up at the slightest 
 provocation, but, having inherited a robust con 
 stitution from the Kelly side of the family, managed 
 somehow to achieve boyhood none the worse for the 
 zealous care bestowed upon him save for a slight 
 oversensitiveness to drafts. Saturday nights he 
 was boiled in the bathtub and huddled off to bed, 
 and if he sneezed he was wrapped in a blanket and 
 rocked in front of the " register," as the opening of 
 the hot-air furnace in his mother s room was called. 
 These "registers" were a mystery and an unending 
 source of amusement to Tom, for you could halloo 
 down through their tunnels to the nether regions, 
 or innocently drop into them unconsidered and 
 never-to-be-recovered trifles belonging to the fe- 
 
22 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 male wardrobe. When Eben, the negro choreman, 
 had started a good fire the hot air would come out 
 in a grand blast and you could hold up your hand 
 kerchief and imagine you were a ship at sea under 
 full sail. And down in the front hall, where the 
 register was flush in the floor and not in the wall, 
 you could lay your silk muffler on it carefully and 
 away it would go toward the ceiling, carried up on 
 the column of air until it slid off sideways and fell 
 in a crinkled heap on the carpet. 
 
 Every year, however, the placid routine of Tom s 
 simple life was interrupted by the inevitable visit 
 at the Newbury Street house of Uncle Ezra and Aunt 
 Minerva Jenkins from Bridgeport, who came each 
 spring, bringing a carpetbag worked in green worsted 
 with a stag s head in yellow. Uncle Ezra was a 
 very vivid memory indeed, for he had a face like a 
 moose with a long thin nose overhanging his chin in 
 extensions or eaves. Mrs. Kelly had the highest 
 reverencQ for him, and also for his wife who was 
 reputed to be the best housekeeper in Bridgeport, but 
 Tom dreaded these visitations by reason of the ad 
 ditional gloom that pervaded the house while the 
 worthies were there. During these periods Tom s 
 mother always wore her Sunday clothes, even at 
 breakfast, and asked Uncle Ezra to say grace, and 
 after the meal was over they would all adjourn to 
 the library and have family prayers, with Sarah 
 the second girl, and Bridget the cook, lurking in a 
 religiously hostile yet malevolently respectful man 
 ner outside in the hall. 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 23 
 
 These family prayers were unabridged and com 
 plete in all respects, covering every department of 
 human activity in this and foreign lands. "And 
 we would especially ask thy attention, Oh Lord, 
 to the benighted heathen of Tasmania and beseech 
 thee to give them of thy grace!" and so on, or at 
 least so it seemed to Tom, through Somaliland, 
 Patagonia, and the whole geography. Uncle Ezra, 
 who had a great reputation in Bridgeport as an 
 exhorter, fascinated Tom to such an extent that he 
 almost did not mind kneeling down so long on the 
 hard floor, for he could see Uncle Ezra after he had 
 exhausted the air in his lungs on the natives of South 
 Australia, take a long, long breath, drawing in his 
 flapper-like nostrils until he was quite distended, 
 and begin again on the inhabitants of western 
 Africa. He knew Uncle Ezra was a very holy man 
 for he never smiled. 
 
 Aunt Minerva was a pantomimic echo of her hus 
 band, and both acted as if they thought Tom did 
 very wrong to be alive, and as if they were sure God 
 was very angry with him. During this annual 
 affliction Tom s mother assumed a regretful, pained 
 manner toward him, as if to say that he would know 
 some day what a terribly sad business this being "a 
 child of God" was and be sorry for not realizing it 
 sooner. They all murdered the joy of life and 
 seemed forever doomed to participate in its attendant 
 obsequies. Tom was convinced somehow that he 
 was a miserable sinner and was ready to do all that 
 he could to rectify the matter, but the manner of 
 
24 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 his elders satisfied him that, do what he could, he 
 would remain what he was a worm. 
 
 It is impossible to gauge the far-reaching effect 
 upon character of seemingly inconsequential in 
 fluences. Tom s whole attitude toward religion 
 in after-life was colored strongly by his recollections 
 of Uncle Ezra and his wife, just as his attitude toward 
 the world at large was quite naturally moulded by 
 that of his mother. And one of his first reactions 
 to this gloomy and depressing view of the disposition 
 of Providence toward the inhabitants of the globe 
 was to welcome eagerly the suggestion of a youthful 
 agnostic that there was no reason to believe in any 
 God at all or for attempting to carry out his mythical 
 commandments. So successful were the Jenkinses 
 in impressing Tom with his guilt of some unde 
 fined offense against the Almighty that not before 
 his freshman year in college did he cease to have an 
 instinctive fear of an imminent retribution from on 
 high. This was accentuated by the frequent repeti 
 tion of such phrases as "born in sin" and "children 
 of wrath." He was informed that the "Old Adam" 
 was in him somewhere. This made him very uneasy 
 and most uncomfortable. He expected Adam to 
 come popping out of him at almost any minute, 
 just as Jonah had emerged from the whale. It 
 was an unpleasant anticipation. And the idea that 
 he would not only be visited with swift vengeance for 
 any transgressions of his own in the future, but also, 
 for some unexplained reason, for those of others in 
 the dim past for which he could not in any way con- 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 25 
 
 ceive himself as responsible, made him secretly 
 resentful. It was all most mysterious, but when he 
 sought enlightenment from his mother and Aunt 
 Eliza, the former only whispered, "Hush !" and held 
 up a warning finger, while the latter remarked didac 
 tically: "Just hear the child little boys mustn t 
 ask about such things !" 
 
 "But why have I got to be saved?" wailed 
 Tom. "I d rather not be! Please don t let me 
 be saved!" 
 
 Horrified, his mother pushed him from the room 
 with instructions to go and play in the back yard, 
 only not under any circumstances to ask questions 
 of Bridget, who in spite of being a good woman was 
 a follower of the Pope of Rome. Even if Bridget 
 herself felt kindly toward him, said his mother, she 
 would be powerless to save him from the rage of 
 the Roman Catholics if once they were aroused 
 against him. They were always "massacring" 
 people. There was the "Massacre of St. Bartho 
 lomew" for example! No, Tom must never in the 
 remotest way touch upon religion in talking with 
 Bridget ! 
 
 About Jews his mother seemed, curiously enough, 
 to feel differently. In fact her attitude was almost 
 friendly. Their crucifixion of the Saviour she 
 apparently regarded as an error of judgment, to be 
 overlooked under all the circumstances. The Bible 
 was full of Jews nothing but Jews in fact. Ap 
 parently you could not hate Jews without in a mea 
 sure reflecting on the upper stratum of Scriptural 
 
28 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 ancient edifice, and the more fashionable congre 
 gations had in consequence moved on to less crowded 
 sections of the Back Bay. It was partly for this 
 reason that Mrs. Kelly continued to go there. At 
 St. Agnes s she had the feeling that she was really as 
 good as anybody. 
 
 The rector, an austere and unapproachable per 
 son, who had once declined the office of bishop 
 coadjutor in a Western State, was considered by the 
 faithful of his congregation to be a man of remarkable 
 qualities, spiritual and intellectual. He was uni 
 formly spoken of as having made "great sacri 
 fices" to stay at St. Agnes s, and he himself was 
 guilty of no oversight in doing what he could to 
 strengthen that impression. Everything about St. 
 Agnes s was in keeping with the rector. It was, if 
 threadbare, eminently respectable, with a flavor of 
 ecclesiastical aristocracy and a perceptible odor 
 of sanctity. This odor, as Tom discovered early, 
 emanated from the decaying cloth of the footstools 
 and cushions of the pews, which in some places had 
 been entirely worn away, exposing the aged stuffing 
 beneath. Its quality was heightened to a slight 
 but noticeable degree by a suggestion of ancient 
 prayer and hymn books, the covers of which were 
 going through a natural process of disintegration. A 
 damp umbrella placed in juxtaposition with a 
 crumbling piece of antique leather was bound to have 
 its effect. The first thing a visitor to St. Agnes s 
 noticed was a sort of faint acrid green smell, and 
 Tom never heard the word "church" without 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 29 
 
 coincidently recalling this mysterious and charac 
 teristic odor. A "church" was to him a place 
 that "smelled like St. Agnes s." 
 
 The Kelly pew was in the rear, at the very be 
 ginning of the main aisle, and in consequence, its 
 sides and back were higher than the others. The 
 elder Kelly had chosen it because of its low rent, and 
 his widow had retained it. It was her only ex 
 travagance, for while it could hold six persons there 
 were only two left to sit in it, and it gave her an in 
 nocent satisfaction, and filled her with a sense of 
 modest proprietorship, to be able to beckon to the 
 usher and hold up four ringers, indicating thereby 
 that she could, if necessary, accommodate four 
 strangers within her gates. The sides of the pew, 
 being fully two feet higher than Tom s head, it was 
 quite impossible for him either to see or hear any 
 thing unless he was allowed to stand upright upon 
 the seat, but Mrs. Kelly did not regard it as proper 
 for him to do this except during the hymns, and in 
 consequence he was obliged to occupy himself as 
 best he could during the anthem and sermon, when 
 he usually crawled under the seat or drew pictures 
 inside the covers of the older books. 
 
 Obviously some other small boy had once found 
 the worship of the Almighty equally tedious, for 
 there was an English hymnal, lying around, bear 
 ing date 1849, with the name "Warren Brad- 
 shaw" scrawled across the fly-leaf accompanied 
 by what Tom considered a masterpiece of drawing, 
 consisting of the profile of a man in whiskers and a 
 
26 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 Society. This may have had something to do with 
 Tom s preference for not being saved. Of course 
 the Jews wouldn t be saved, but the Jews neverthe 
 less were evidently rather superior. Whereas Uncle 
 Ezra and Aunt Minerva he couldn t imagine en 
 joying eternity in their companionship, even if they 
 were equipped with golden harps and clad in shining 
 raiment ! 
 
 Tom, duly warned, discussed with Bridget, there 
 fore, only "fay-ries" and the value of old clothes 
 and bottles. Yet Bridget did not suffer Tom to fall 
 under the false lure of gold. Rather, whenever he 
 came into the kitchen she would impress upon him 
 the value of wisdom. 
 
 "Sure, tis better to be a great scholar like Father 
 Leary than a millyunaire," she would say, standing 
 arms akimbo on her broad, powerful hips. " Many s 
 the time I wisht I d had an eddication. Learn 
 your books, Tom ! Take an old woman s word for 
 it. Yer father knew his books, even if I can t say 
 as much for yer mither. And crumbs make ye 
 wise !" 
 
 Forthwith she would cross to the wall under the 
 clock and remove from its nail a blue tin match-box, 
 in which she preserved all the crumbs which were 
 the by-products of her daily tasks. They were dry, 
 crunchy, and delicious white, graham, and brown; 
 and Tom would dump them all out in a big pile on 
 the pastry-board and lap them up like a dog, while 
 Bridget would stand by admiringly. Tom some 
 times wondered afterward if Bridget really thought 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 27 
 
 the bread crumbs thus devoured would increase his 
 mental capacities. She was indeed a wise old 
 woman, albeit a superstitious one, yet it is highly 
 probable that she did vaguely believe in some occult 
 power in the crumbs which she so zealously treasured 
 to make Tom wise. Do not many of us accept the 
 well-known thesis that fish is good for the brain? 
 And, if so, why not crumbs ? However that may be, 
 Tom never forgot her admonition, and when he 
 ceased to rely upon the efficacy of bread crumbs 
 per se as an intellectual stimulus, he realized the 
 true significance of Bridget s doctrine and profited 
 by it. Thus the old cook played her part, just as 
 did Uncle Ezra and Aunt Minerva, in shaping 
 Tom s ultimate character. 
 
 But Tom s religious experiences were not limited 
 to Uncle Ezra s visits. Ever since the Kellys had, 
 in the early years of their married life, moved to 
 Newbury Street, they had rented a pew in the old 
 stone church on Tremont Street, a few minutes 
 walk away, just across the Public Garden and the 
 Common. On Sunday mornings in early spring, 
 and even on clear days in winter after a light fall 
 of snow, these walks were very pleasant and left 
 one with a sense of muscular relaxation when com 
 fortably settled among the red cushions of the 
 high-backed, mahogany-trimmed pews. 
 
 The church was a hundred years old, dark and 
 dank in bad weather, and the regular attendants 
 few and shifting, owing to the fact that stores and 
 office-buildings had completely enveloped the low, 
 
30 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 tall hat. Sunday after Sunday he sat and mar 
 velled at Warren Bradshaw s artistic ability, wonder 
 ing if he should ever be able to draw a human be 
 ing with such a hat and whiskers. During hymns 
 Tom stood on the seat and watched the heads of 
 the congregation; the rest of the time he lay on 
 his back or sat gazing up at the comparatively lim 
 ited section of water-stained ceiling exposed to his 
 view. 
 
 During a particularly long prayer on a certain Sun 
 day in his seventh year Tom s small forehead slipped 
 from the hymn-book upon which it was reposing and 
 his front teeth came suddenly into conflict with the 
 rack below, with the result that a considerable 
 amount of ancient varnish forced its way into his 
 mouth. He found somewhat to his astonishment 
 that the antique glue and pulverized wood had a 
 by no means unpleasant taste. In the joy of this 
 discovery he straightway began gnawing around 
 the pew in divers places like a small and vigorous 
 rodent. 
 
 Unfortunately this was possible only during the 
 prayers when he had an excuse for lowering his 
 head, until, looking for other worlds to gnaw, his 
 eyes fixed themselves upon the mahogany rail run 
 ning around the top of the pew. At that moment 
 his mother happened to be absorbed in a particularly 
 eloquent passage which the rector was reading from 
 St. Chrysostom, so that Tom was enabled, without 
 attracting her attention, to crawl into the farther 
 corner of the pew, draw himself up to his full height, 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 31 
 
 and affix his teeth unnoticed in the rail. It tasted 
 even better than the rack below. Soon he had 
 quietly gnawed two small grooves. Oh rapture! 
 Stealthily he placed his hands above his head and 
 lifted himself up until he could drive the two small 
 dog s teeth in his upper jaw into the soft wood. 
 He could feel them sink deeply in, almost as if it 
 were a cheese ! Delighted, he let go with his hands 
 and hung swinging there in ecstasy, unsupported 
 save by his teeth. 
 
 Meantime the rector continued to read from St. 
 Chrysostom, while Tom surveyed the world beneath 
 him much as an Alpine climber clinging to a jutting 
 rock gazes into the valleys below. Suddenly he 
 became conscious of a small brown face within an 
 inch or two of his own a girl s ! She, too, had ap 
 parently discovered the art of hanging by one s 
 teeth. The two children stared at each other sol 
 emnly. 
 
 " So you goth pew teeth too ! " mumbled, 
 or rather sputtered, Tom. 
 
 "Yeth pew teeth!" mouthed his new friend. 
 
 He felt a dawning respect for this equally adven 
 turous spirit. Using his hands again, he lifted his 
 chin entirely over the top of the rail, thus enabling 
 his eyes to see into the pew from which she had 
 thus mysteriously emerged. 
 
 At the other end sat a tall, loose-jointed man in a 
 black frock coat. His face was narrow, with pro 
 truding chin and a long nose, not unlike an elongated 
 Dante, but albeit the lips were thin, the large mouth 
 
32 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 was shrewd and kindly, and the eyes were puckered 
 in friendly wrinkles. To Tom s great comfort he 
 saw that the man was smiling at him. 
 
 " Good morning ! " remarked this new acquaintance 
 in a confidential whisper. "How do you do?" 
 
 At that moment Tom s chin was loosened by a 
 tug on his coat and he was dragged suddenly down 
 from behind, striking his nose violently against the 
 rail. The little girl simultaneously disappeared. 
 
 "I should think you d be ashamed to climb 
 around like that!" gasped Mrs. Kelly in horror, a 
 note of harshness manifesting itself in her habitually 
 subdued voice. "S pose Mrs. Petersilea had seen 
 you? It s wicked to act like that in church, with 
 God looking right at you ! I ve a good mind to 
 tell the rector " 
 
 Just then a bright red drop suddenly descended 
 from the end of Tom s nose upon the open prayer- 
 book in his mother s hand. 
 
 "Dear me!" she cried in sudden terror, "I hope 
 you haven t gone and killed yourself !" 
 
 At the conclusion of the service upon the stone 
 steps of the church the two children stared at each 
 other in an embarrassed admiration. Tom had 
 never seen such a delightful person before. She 
 was small and wiry, with blue-black hair and eyes 
 like an Indian. Her brown little face was splashed 
 with a red suggestive of a riotous autumn leaf, and 
 when she smiled an elfin gleam danced all around it 
 and flickered, laughing, in her eyes. 
 
 From time to time he saw her on scattered Sun- 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 33 
 
 days, but beyond the fact that her name was Evelyn 
 he learned nothing further about her. Finally 
 she ceased to come and he saw her no more. 
 
 Perhaps the influence that most affected Tom in 
 these early years was his mother s obvious realiza 
 tion, or at least assumption of, social inferiority, 
 in addition to which, a literal acceptance of the doc 
 trines of Christian humility and meekness accen 
 tuated her natural timidity and absence of self- 
 confidence. No more self-effacing, humble little 
 lady ever lived than Mrs. Kelly, and if she was 
 a saint by disposition, rather than from intellectual 
 conviction, who shall grudge her her place in the 
 hereafter? So Tom came naturally by the be 
 lief that, somehow, he was not quite as good as 
 most of the other people who lived about him, and 
 that he must not force himself upon their notice. 
 
 The result of this social reticence was that Mrs. 
 Kelly s entire circle consisted of the clergyman, her 
 suburban aunts and cousins, a few nondescript 
 friends picked up at odd boarding-houses and small 
 hotels during the summer months, and one or two 
 lone ladies like herself, living either on her own 
 street or at the west or east end of the city, 
 while Tom s acquaintances were acquired at the 
 public school and numbered only small males of 
 his own age the sons of liverymen, tradespeople, 
 and the scions of the foreign population then being 
 rapidly drawn by economic exigencies to Boston. 
 
 For girls, owing to the characteristics of the fe 
 male cousins, he had an abiding distrust and con- 
 
34 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 tempt, and when he encountered them, which was 
 rarely, it was his custom to distort his features into 
 a grimace and give them a wide circle. 
 
 His mother, by no means so unobservant as might 
 have been expected, had formed a high resolve to 
 give Tom a thorough religious, and then an equally 
 thorough intellectual, education. Only her diffi 
 dence prevented her from entering him in one of 
 the excellent private schools with which Boston 
 abounded, but never having ventured, save in a 
 house of worship all persons being equal " before 
 the Lord" to mingle with what she supposed to 
 be a divinely appointed aristocracy, she could not 
 muster sufficient courage to thrust her son where 
 she had not the temerity to go herself. Led by an 
 economic instinct to seek pleasure and virtue by the 
 same road, she took Tom each year to some one of 
 the various semireligious watering-places where oth 
 ers, of like mind and similar social status, gathered 
 together for mutual enjoyment. One which she 
 particularly favored, and where Tom spent many of 
 his early summers, was on the shores of a small lake 
 in Maine. It consisted of fifty-odd shanties, digni 
 fied as "cottages" by the occupants, with a wooden 
 chapel and general store. 
 
 The preacher was also the local postmaster and 
 owned the store as well. His name was "The 
 Reverend Sparrow." Unlike Uncle Ezra, he was 
 stout and good-natured, with a hearty way of call 
 ing the members of his flock by their first names, 
 prefixed by "Brother" or "Sister." On week-days 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 35 
 
 he wore brown overalls and a black alpaca jacket, 
 and sat on the store piazza, discoursing on politics 
 and religion. His lips were smooth shaven, but 
 beneath them wagged a white goat s beard, ineffec 
 tually screening a collarless double chin. Tom did 
 not esteem him as he esteemed Uncle Ezra. There 
 was something about "The Reverend Sparrow" 
 which to his childish instincts did not ring quite 
 true, for on Sundays he talked about sin, hell fire, 
 and damnation, and the rest of the time cracked 
 jokes with the parishioners as he weighed out their 
 flour and sugar and handed them their letters 
 and newspapers. He really didn t seem to find life 
 melancholy at all, and his laugh could be heard 
 constantly heehawing all through the camp. This 
 exceedingly confused Tom s mind. At least Uncle 
 Ezra and to a reasonable extent his mother, 
 were consistent. They were constantly occupied 
 with the idea of being "saved." "The Reverend 
 Sparrow" took his salvation with a degree of jocu 
 larity, which seemed wrong to Tom; but when he 
 broached the subject to Mrs. Kelly she assured him 
 that the preacher-postmaster was a very "wonderful 
 man" with a "beautiful character." Yet Tom had 
 his suspicions of him. 
 
 The visitors boarded at low rates at the cottages, 
 each of which had a name, the majority with a 
 biblical suggestion, such as "Armour Bearer," 
 "Galilee" and "Canaan," although there were 
 others more secular like "Woodchuck," "Nut 
 shell," and "Ararat." For some reason these last 
 
36 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 were considered rather the more "chic," and all the 
 visitors engaged in much good-natured banter over 
 the respective merits of their dwellings, referring 
 merrily to one another as " Canaanites," "Wood- 
 chucks," "Nuts," and "Galiloots." All this par 
 tially robbed salvation of its terrors for Tom. But 
 he could not accustom himself to "The Reverend 
 Sparrow s" attitude of lightmindedness. It seemed 
 to him that the good gentleman took his religion 
 with a wink, as it were. 
 
 Tom detested these wanderings in search of health 
 and society, and quickly became expert in discerning 
 their various hypocrisies. Each of the boarding- 
 houses invariably had a sort of presiding genius 
 a "grand old man" in the shape of a retired clergy 
 man, who "came" year after year (doubtless at re 
 duced rates) and who, besides reading the service 
 on Sundays, "gave a tone" to the social gay e ties 
 of the establishments. Around this benevolent old 
 Buddha, the female boarders kowtowed in admira 
 tion, most of them flabby old women, who spent 
 their time knitting in rocking-chairs on the front 
 piazza. The chairs, being of all sizes, moved back 
 ward and forward with varying velocities and widely 
 differing parabolas, and gave an impression not un 
 like that of the pendulums of hundreds of clocks 
 set in a row. 
 
 Perhaps the most dismal of these establishments, 
 t which nevertheless Mrs. Kelly and Tom re 
 turned year after year, was situated in the foot 
 hills of the White Mountains on a stony farm in- 
 
THE WORLD >ND THOMAS KELLY 37 
 
 fested by woodchucks. By courtesy it was known 
 as the Mountain Home House, though no moun 
 tains were within reaching distance, and its religious 
 atmosphere was heightened by the fact that it was 
 located directly opposite the cemetery. In after 
 years the mention of a "summer vacation" in 
 evitably recalled to Tom the vision of a hot, low- 
 ceiled room crowded with small tables about which 
 lingered anaemic waitresses who murmured in dis 
 dainful accents, "Roast beef or codfish and cream 
 rare or well done?" There was but one bath 
 room, even less inviting than the one on Newbury 
 Street, and the boarders spent most of their time 
 sitting on the piazza watching for funerals. 
 
 There was nothing for Tom to do at most of these 
 resorts, except to knock aimlessly the cracked and 
 withered wooden balls around a humpy and sun 
 burnt croquet-ground in the company of some 
 peevish little girl or "fleshy" old lady who wanted 
 to "reduce," or to whang waterlogged tennis-balls 
 across a limp, bedraggled fish-net, drooping in the 
 middle of an undulating field of stubble. For this 
 latter sport, destined as it was to play an amazing 
 part in his subsequent career, Tom had an indubi 
 table predilection, and while his mother could not 
 afford to buy him a real racket, he nevertheless prac 
 tised it as best he could with a wooden bat whittled 
 laboriously out of a stout shingle. 
 
 The predominating religious view-point in these 
 communal households differed both from the atti 
 tude of Uncle Ezra and Aunt Minerva and also from 
 
38 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 that of "The Reverend Sparrow." The God of the 
 Jenkins had been an austere, wrathful, and terrible 
 God, whose shadow seemed to hover over the earth 
 like that of a gigantic bird of prey; the God preached 
 by "The Reverend Sparrow" was of the same 
 general character but his awfulness was somewhat 
 mitigated by the fact that, while he had pro 
 nounced views, he hardly lived up to his convictions, 
 being easily placated by prayer and good resolu 
 tions and he was much more fearsome on Sun 
 days than on the other days of the week; but the 
 God of the boarding-house rusticators was entirely 
 different, for he was as abnormally sensitive as he 
 was omnipotent he could be deeply wounded even 
 by a little child thinking an unrighteous thought. 
 The idea that he was hourly inflicting acute pain on 
 the Almighty made Tom wretchedly unhappy. He 
 would have preferred to take his chances with 
 the fierce swashbuckling Jehovah of Uncle Ezra 
 and Aunt Minerva. In fact he worried so much 
 over the celestial suffering of which he supposed him 
 self to be the cause, that he became quite melan 
 choly. His mother in her anxiety sought to allay 
 his misery by telling him that God would "under 
 stand" and "make allowances for little boys," 
 but Tom remained unconvinced, secretly giving 
 greater credence to the visiting clergymen who 
 preached in the hotel parlor on Sundays than to her. 
 Thus God appeared to Tom a many-sided and some 
 what inconsistent character. 
 Peregrinating thus about the country, Mrs. Kelly 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 39 
 
 left few of the summer resorts of New England un- 
 visited during the vacations, and one August she 
 even insisted, much against her son s inclinations, 
 upon going to Newport for a short period. His 
 mother seemed to have a consuming natural curiosity 
 to see with her own eyes how the "other half" 
 lived. They stayed at a cheap hostelry in the lower 
 part of the town, and spent most of the time walk 
 ing aimlessly about the streets, sitting in the hotel 
 parlors, and occasionally taking short drives. Mrs. 
 Kelly, who continued to wear black for her husband 
 as long as she lived, was accustomed to sport a tiny 
 parasol of the variety fashionable about 1870, the 
 top of which could be adjusted or "cocked" side 
 ways, giving it a rakish air that suggested that the 
 owner must, at least, have "scallops on her boots." 
 Tom loathed the peculiar-looking thing, and being a 
 self-conscious child, used to squirm in agonized em 
 barrassment as his mother, carrying her parasol in 
 complete unconsciousness of its strange appearance, 
 led him along Rhode Island Avenue, while they 
 gazed at the handsome equipages rolling be 
 neath the elms, watched the fashionable people 
 going and coming from the Casino, or examined the 
 stone gateways through which led the smooth, 
 flower-bordered driveways to the palaces of the 
 great. 
 
 There was to him something haughtily brutal 
 about the hidden magnificence which he knew lurked 
 behind the shrubbery of those luxurious gardens. 
 Not that he wanted to see them particularly, only 
 
40 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 the consciousness of being excluded that the "no 
 admittance" signs were meant for his mother and 
 for him gave him the feeling of personally being a 
 sort of pariah, classed him with the niggers, as it 
 were. Sometimes when his mother was looking 
 through the iron railings at the hydrangeas he would 
 shake his small brown fist at the stone turrets of the 
 mansion beyond the trees. And it was in a rebel 
 lious, if not an anarchistic, frame of mind that Tom 
 spent those two miserable weeks. Yet this was un 
 usual, for most of the time, at other "resorts" he 
 was merely bored. 
 
 When school opened in the autumn they would 
 return to the Newbury Street house, rejoined by 
 Bridget who always spent the vacation period with 
 her married sister at Nantasket Beach. Mrs. 
 Kelly would resume her ecclesiastical activities and 
 Tom his studies at the public school, where he worked 
 hard, impelled by a sense of duty to make the most 
 of his opportunities and stimulated thereto by his 
 mother, who constantly impressed upon him the 
 fact that he had his "way to make in the world," 
 and that if he was industrious, and neither smoked 
 nor drank until he was twenty-one, he might suc 
 ceed, not only in an earthly sense, but also by lay 
 ing up substantial treasure in heaven. 
 
 "But I would rather have him a good man than a 
 great man," she would say; "I have always told 
 Tom that." 
 
 Thus he was given to understand that though it 
 ought not to be difficult for a youth of his parts to 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 41 
 
 achieve greatness, nevertheless, should the question 
 arise, he would be expected to relinquish prosperity 
 for virtue. Just what his mother regarded as "suc 
 cess" from a worldly point of view Tom was never 
 quite sure of, but from casual remarks he concluded 
 that she had in mind a prosperity about equivalent 
 to that of Amos Witherbee, Cousin Minnie s hus 
 band, who was a lumber merchant over in Cam- 
 bridgeport. Mrs. Kelly always referred to Cousin 
 Minnie as a "beaidifid woman," and when Tom, 
 having seen her for the first time, remonstrated that 
 she was not beautiful at all but quite the contrary, 
 his mother said: "I mean she has a beautiful char 
 acter. Handsome is as handsome does. If you were 
 always as good as your Cousin Minnie I should be 
 perfectly satisfied." The fact was that "Cousin" 
 Minnie was no relation at all, but her example none 
 the less may have inspired Tom to virtue. 
 
 Excepting Saturdays, school "let out" at two 
 o clock, after which Tom hastened home to a cold 
 lunch, and then rushed out into the street to play, 
 while his mother sat sewing at the bow window in 
 the parlor awaiting his return. At first, just after 
 his graduation from Bridget and the back yard, his 
 amusements were confined to the bounds of the 
 block upon which he lived to snowballing, play 
 ing "catch" across the street, spinning tops, or roll 
 ing marbles, for the collection, started by the Elder 
 Kelly, his father, had multiplied enormously. But as 
 Tom gained in wisdom and stature, he journeyed 
 farther afield, stealing long rides in winter down 
 
42 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 the "back allies" on grocerymen s "pungs" or lead 
 ing exploring expeditions, composed of other small 
 school friends and sometimes of friendly "muckers," 
 into the wildernesses of "Muddy River" and the 
 Milldam. It was due to a merciful dispensation of 
 Providence that Mrs. Kelly could not see her only 
 son upon these excursions, for in winter the boys 
 "ran tiddledees" over the quaking, ticklish ice 
 fields of the Back Bay beyond "Westchester Park," 
 and in summer floated recklessly around upon rafts 
 improvised of loose boards, fishing for eels. Moved 
 by the instinct of self-preservation for Tom s 
 social timidity had curdled into a fierce antagonism 
 to the "rich boys" on Commonwealth Avenue and 
 Beacon Street he organized a "gang" of social 
 derelicts like himself, to wage both offensive and 
 defensive warfare, upon other and similar "gangs" 
 in other quarters and upon the "muckers" who 
 periodically appeared like invading Huns from the 
 south and west ends and offered battle upon the 
 greensward of the Avenue. 
 
 Thus, in spite of his mother s constant care, Tom 
 got plenty of fresh air and exercise, and expanded 
 in all directions, until his small jackets and panta 
 loons were stretched to bursting, and often his 
 wanderings took him so far afield that it was long 
 after dark before he reached home, weary of foot and 
 empty of stomach, to find the street-lamps lighted 
 and his mother peering from behind the white cur 
 tains of the parlor window. Instantly she would 
 be down-stairs to open the door, giving him a little 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 43 
 
 reproving, pecking kiss, accompanied by a com 
 plaining: 
 
 "I should have thought you would have thought 
 a little of your mother and not stayed out after 
 dark in this way. I was worried to death ! " 
 
 And Tom, with a terrible sinking of the heart and 
 in genuine contrition, would admit his sin crave 
 pardon, and be forgiven, while his wet shoes were 
 removed from his feet, and they and his small back 
 were rubbed vigorously with alcohol. Then in dry 
 clothes, his extremities parboiled from the after 
 noon s floundering in snow or water, he would con 
 sume huge quantities of Indian meal mush, cold 
 meat, potatoes, apple sauce, gingerbread, and highly 
 diluted milk or cocoa. 
 
 Afterward under the bronze gaslight in the 
 library Tom would drowse over "Greenleafs Mental 
 Arithmetic" or the "School Geography" while his 
 mother, and Aunt Eliza, possibly, would play a 
 game of "parchisi" or discuss the comparative ex 
 cellences of their favorite patent medicines; and 
 when the marble clock on the mantel chimed nine 
 he was quite ready to climb up to the third story 
 rear and go to bed, leaving his mother to come up, 
 kiss him softly good night, and turn out the gas. 
 On the whole, it was by no means an unwholesome 
 life for a boy to lead. 
 
 Though Tom regarded his mother as the most 
 perfect, if not the most beautiful, human being in 
 the world, he sometimes wondered why he found it 
 so difficult to talk to her about the various subjects 
 
44 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 in which he was interested or which he was taught 
 at school. Mrs. Kelly s reading was confined al 
 most entirely to the Bible, a few novels of a strongly 
 religious flavor by Marie Corelli, and the death 
 notices in the Evening Transcript. She recognized 
 herself as quite unable to cope with the speculations 
 and perplexities of his active young mind and 
 adroitly evaded all topics in which she might find 
 herself at a disadvantage. In consequence their 
 conversational interchanges w r ere almost nil. 
 
 As the reader has already divined, Mrs. Kelly was 
 a negative sort of woman, distrustful of her own 
 capacities, and supremely conscious of her own limi 
 tations. Tom was the centre of her universe and she 
 could see nothing but that centre. She was like a 
 hen with one chick, ready to flutter it off to safety 
 at the first premonition of danger, but prepared 
 to fight viciously for her offspring if occasion de 
 manded. She was, so to speak, a mother and 
 nothing else. She was neither a wise nor discerning 
 one. But she gave to Tom a passionate devotion 
 that made her the abiding influence in his career. 
 This devotion he returned. The house on New- 
 bury Street was his world, albeit a very small one. 
 Beyond its limits he strayed but rarely, and in his 
 wanderings he never came in contact with any more 
 intellectual or luxurious existence than his own. 
 There was practically no alteration in their mode 
 of life up to the time of his entry into college, for 
 which he had been passably well prepared by the 
 public schools of his native city, and thus, when at 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 45 
 
 last his mother reluctantly and with a heart full of 
 misgivings cut the apron-strings which had bound 
 him to her, Tom at the age of eighteen was about 
 as innocent, if not ignorant, a young person as had 
 ever passed inside the gates of Harvard University, 
 where, to be strictly accurate, this story can only 
 be said to begin. 
 
IV 
 
 THE pop-eyed little man with the domelike fore 
 head who had been lecturing to the class in mediaeval 
 history hurrying breathlessly through his notes 
 so that Otto the Saxon King might be safely crowned 
 in Rome before the hands of the big clock should 
 reach twelve closed his portfolio with something 
 like a snort of relief, and removed his double-lensed 
 glasses. 
 
 "Next time we shall consider the reciprocal in 
 fluence of the Roman and Teutonic elements on 
 the character of the empire," he announced se 
 verely. "There will be an hour examination next 
 Friday from Theodoric to the Dissolution of the 
 Carolingian domain." 
 
 Two hundred pairs of shoes simultaneously scraped 
 the floor, and the lecturer, swiftly grabbing his 
 derby hat, scurried for the door to avoid questions. 
 There were always half a dozen grinds who wished 
 to display their erudition by digging up unheard of 
 minutiae and interrogating him casually about them 
 as if they were matters of commonest knowledge. 
 He had seen from the corner of his eye an ass named 
 Ricker trying to outflank him and spring (he felt 
 confident) something on him about the iconoclastic 
 schism. He gained the exit triumphantly, however, 
 
 46 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 47 
 
 and disappeared like a rabbit in the direction of 
 Quincy Street, for it was a drowsy, soft spring day 
 full of quivering sunshine, and he intended to go 
 out to Oakland for a game of golf. 
 
 The class jostled out of the building, and scattered 
 in all directions, a few lingering around the threshold 
 of the old red-brick revolutionary structure to smoke 
 and discuss the lecture. 
 
 " Crabs was on the run to-day," grumbled Ricker, 
 who having lost the lecturer was eager to vent his 
 learning on somebody. "I had a hard time taking 
 everything he said down in shorthand but I man 
 aged to get it. That stuff about the Capitulary of 
 802 for instance " his voice rose in stealthy en 
 thusiasm. 
 
 "Oh, shut up, Ricker!" growled Tom Kelly, now 
 grown to the mature age of nineteen. "You make 
 us all tired. It s bad enough to listen to Crabs 
 for fifty minutes without having it all warmed over 
 and dished out second hand by you. I don t even 
 know what a capitulary is. I don t want to. It 
 sounds something like a caterpillar. I ll bet it was 
 rotten, anyway, whatever it was." 
 
 Ricker was eagerly turning the pages of his neatly 
 inscribed note-book. 
 
 "All persons within his dominions, as well ecclesi 
 astical as civil, who had already sworn allegiance to 
 him as King, were thereby commanded to swear to 
 him afresh as Caesar; and " 
 
 He suddenly ceased, Tom having stuffed a cap 
 into his mouth and thrown him backward on the 
 
48 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 greensward, where another of the group held him 
 prone by the shoulders, while a third snatched his 
 precious book and ran across the yard with it toward 
 Thayer s Hall. 
 
 Ricker arose, grinning sheepishly. He was a fat, 
 pimply, pasty-faced youth with bristly hair radiating 
 from his rather small head like porcupine quills. 
 Tom made a good-natured feint at him. 
 
 "You ll feel differently, you bet, when you re 
 cramming for the exams," Ricker protested, spitting 
 wool from his mouth. "There ain t another feller 
 but me s got it all. I could sell it and make a lot of 
 money out of it." 
 
 "Oh, pouff ! " cried Tom. "You don t understand 
 that mess any better than the rest of us. I m 
 gorged with schisms and alliances, and influences 
 and doctrines, and I don t even know where the 
 countries were that had em ! Why didn t Crabs 
 start out, for instance, with a big map and a poker 
 and tell us on the very first day what the whole 
 blooming course was about ? He could have pointed 
 out the Garden of Eden and said: Adam was born 
 here. 9 Then by easy stages he could have worked 
 down to the Middle Ages and got fairly started. 
 Instead, he talked fifty minutes about Alexandrian 
 Neo-Platonism. What is Neo-Platonism ? " 
 
 "I knew three months ago," announced Peters, 
 a tall, sardonic youth, lighting a "Sweet Cap" 
 cigarette. "But I m damned if I know now. What 
 say you to food ? The odor of fat venison summons 
 us even now to yonder ivy-covered hall." 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 49 
 
 He turned down the diagonal path, linking his 
 arm through that of Tom, who had shot up to six 
 feet in height, with an athletic, if slender, build. 
 Tom did not like Andy Peters unreservedly, but he 
 had had so little choice in the selection of friends 
 that Andy, if excluded from his circle, would have 
 left a wide gap in it. 
 
 Little Arthur Holden, a rosy-cheeked boy, whose 
 father was a clergyman in one of the Boston suburbs, 
 strolled along beside them. 
 
 "I agree with you, Tom," said he. " They deluge 
 us with a stream of Popes and Emperors and Kings 
 whose names we won t even remember and dates 
 and diets and concordats when we don t most of 
 us know what the really big events of history are." 
 
 "Yes," answered Tom, "or what anybody was 
 like. What s the use of knowing what relation 
 Pipin of Herstal was to Charles Martel when no one 
 tells you whether they wore paint or feathers, or 
 live,d in tents or houses. I can tell you something 
 about the Diet of Worms, but I haven t an idea what 
 the dieters looked like, whether they came in car 
 riages or on foot, wore their hair long or short, or 
 what they ate for dinner." 
 
 "The most important thing is what we are going 
 to have for dinner ! " vouchsafed Peters. "Oh, hang ! 
 it s dog day sausages for ours. I can smell 
 em." 
 
 They walked through the transept of Memorial 
 Hall, between the white tablets placed there in 
 memory of Harvard s sons who died in the Civil 
 
50 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 War, and emerged suddenly out of its shadowy 
 silences into the noise and clatter of the great col 
 lege commons. 
 
 Tom had passed through a healthy, studious, and, 
 on the whole, not unhappy adolescence in Boston, 
 continuing his education in the city s public schools 
 and finally matriculating in his eighteenth year at 
 Harvard. 
 
 In these intervening years Tom s face had changed 
 its contour and his curly hair had darkened, so 
 that it was now auburn-brown. His forehead 
 was broad, his nose straight, his eyes a deep blue, 
 his lips full and clear cut, and his chin firm and 
 well moulded. He moved rather deliberately, but 
 with a characteristic certainty, and had it not 
 been for his " high-water" trousers and generally 
 shabby clothes he would have passed for an attrac 
 tive and athletic young Englishman. But Mrs. 
 Kelly had no surplus funds to waste on the apparel 
 of either her son or herself, and so Tom s collars 
 were usually frayed, and his trousers and coats 
 rarely matched. In fact his habitual costume was 
 a very shiny blue jacket above a faded pair of steel- 
 gray trousers. Gloves he never donned. His shoes 
 were always down at the heels and held to his feet 
 by curiously knotted strings. For both he and his 
 mother would have felt that they had sinned had 
 they replaced a garment still capable of being re 
 paired. Clothes, like food, were, according to their 
 creed, for use and not for pleasure. Their lives had 
 no room for mere luxuries. So to Tom the crude 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 51 
 
 fare of Memorial Hall seemed good, as it undoubtedly 
 was in the sense of being wholesome, and he managed 
 to tuck away a substantial amount of it three times 
 a day, to which he added a supplementary menu 
 around eleven o clock in the evening of hardtack 
 and hot chocolate boiled over a gas-stove in his bed 
 room. 
 
 The Hall, even at a quarter past twelve, was 
 filling up and the boys found several of their table 
 companions already there. Most of them had been 
 " assigned" to this particular table the one under 
 the alleged Stuart portrait of Washington by the 
 merest chance, having had no group of their own to 
 join. Of the twelve, two, including Tom, came from 
 Boston, one from Worcester, two from Lowell, one 
 from Chicago, four from Dorchester or Roxbury, 
 one from Alabama, and one from Texas, and all 
 had entered Harvard practically without friends. 
 
 They were a good-natured, and for the most part, 
 an innocent-minded lot of lads, of as various char 
 acteristics as an equal number of grown men. Each 
 was the product of his own home influences, and a 
 few minutes conversation with any of them would 
 have sufficed to disclose the character and attitude 
 toward life of the boy s parents, if he had any. 
 
 "Here you, Moses!" shouted Tom to the negro 
 waiter. "Bring me a couple of hot dogs ! Who s 
 got the spuds? Pass em along, you Cryder." 
 
 He took his place at the end of the table and 
 began to spread a large disk of ship s biscuit with an 
 extremely salt variety of kitchen butter. 
 
52 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 "Coin 7 out for the track team?" inquired Cryder, 
 who was a brawny Viking of six feet three. "I 
 should think you d make a good man for the quarter 
 mile." 
 
 Tom shook his head, his mouth being full of hard 
 tack. He felt no confidence in any athletic prow 
 ess. 
 
 " A chap gets a fair deal there, anyhow," asserted 
 Cryder. "They can t leave you off the team if you 
 beat the other fellow ! I didn t get any show at all 
 for the footbaU team." 
 
 "It did seem as if you might have made our class 
 eleven," said Tom politely, ignoring the fact that 
 Cryder had made a pitiful spectacle of himself in 
 the Freshman try-out. 
 
 "I wasn t thinking of myself," apologized Cryder 
 hurriedly. "But in general there s a terrible lot 
 of favoritism, don t you think? Societies for 
 instance 
 
 "Sh!" interpolated Peters. "Don t you know 
 enough not to talk about such things right out 
 loud in Memorial Hall? Somebody might hear 
 you! You re not supposed to know that they 
 exist." 
 
 "They don t for most of this bunch!" growled 
 Ricker, the grind. "You fellows have about as 
 much chance to make the Dicky as this nigger 
 Moses. I tell you no one has any social pull in 
 this place unless he had a father or an uncle in 
 one of the clubs or comes from one of the swell 
 schools." 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 53 
 
 "Bunk!" retorted Tom. "I don t believe any 
 such thing. If I was running a social club, Ricker, 
 you bet I wouldn t have you in it ! You d turn all 
 the drinks sour!" 
 
 "Never you mind!" scowled Ricker. "You ll 
 find out I m right, all right. Look here ! How many 
 of those fellows who live in Claverly Hall have you 
 met? How many men from the Back Bay come to 
 your room?" 
 
 "I come from the Back Bay myself!" grinned 
 Tom, and the rest of them laughed. Ricker re 
 turned venomously to his sausages. 
 
 "Well, we can t all of us be swells!" spoke up 
 Arthur Holden. "I shouldn t be surprised if all of 
 us made some club or other. And what difference 
 would it make even if we didn t? You fellows are 
 good enough for me !" 
 
 "Hear! Hear! Just listen to Little Hopeful !" 
 sneered Peters. He glowered at Holden malevo 
 lently. Something evidently had touched him on 
 the raw. Suddenly he smashed his glass down up 
 on the table so that the milk leaped in a jet into 
 the air. 
 
 "Damn it!" he cried excitedly, "what do you 
 want to go and spoil my lunch for? It s rotten! 
 Everybody knows it s rotten!" he blurted out the 
 words, glancing over his shoulder at the near-by 
 tables as if fearful of being overheard. "You talk 
 like a lot of holy kids. We re a bunch of lemons, 
 and the sooner we admit it to ourselves the better." 
 He looked upward suddenly toward the gallery. 
 
54 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 " There! If you want to succeed at Harvard you 
 ought to behave like that beastly little snob Gather- 
 wood up there. Just look at him ! I d like to punch 
 his face! 7 
 
 The boys raised their eyes with one accord. A 
 small, neatly dressed young gentleman with care 
 fully parted hair was standing in the gallery beside 
 a girl in a pink-and-blue muslin dress. She gazed 
 curiously down on the hundreds of undergraduates 
 whom her escort seemed to regard with supercilious 
 condescension, as he indicated various features of 
 the hall with his freshly gloved hand. 
 
 Catherwood was in fact an unfortunate example 
 of the single cad who in every college class manages 
 somehow to get himself accepted at his own exalted 
 valuation and, through the indolence or good nature 
 of his associates, to win a conspicuous social place 
 in the college life. 
 
 "Oh, Lord! Look at him!" echoed Cryder. 
 "He s got on new yellow chamois gloves !" 
 
 "Showing her how the animals feed!" snarled 
 Peters again. 
 
 At that moment a middle-aged man in a frock- 
 coat and shining tall hat, who bore a distinct re 
 semblance to the dapper youth, appeared beside the 
 couple. 
 
 Instantly all the students, in accordance with 
 ancient custom, turned toward the gallery and be 
 gan to clap vigorously. The girl blushed, became 
 confused and drew back, but the gentleman seemed 
 under the impression that the applause was a tribute 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 55 
 
 to himself for he smiled and, almost imperceptibly, 
 bowed. At this the clapping doubled in volume. 
 In return the elegant stranger made a pronounced 
 inclination in the direction of the audience below 
 and slightly raised his hat. The din increased. A 
 thunderous roar arose from the tables, accompanied 
 by the banging of knives and forks and stamping. 
 Catherwood, the younger, hurried forward and 
 spoke hastily to the innocent cause of the distur 
 bance, who, theretofore merely mystified, now looked 
 very foolish and removed his hat entirely, amid 
 renewed applause after which he hastily fled. 
 
 "Seems a swell can make as big an ass of himself 
 as anybody ! " opined Tom. " So that s Catherwood, 
 is it?" 
 
 "I always heard he was a very nice fellow," 
 asserted a boy named Wai ton- Smith who spoke 
 with a careful enunciation and was rather better 
 dressed than the others at the table. "I don t see 
 how it s anything against him that he s rich. He 
 can t help that, can he? I bet he s all right or all 
 those big men in the class wouldn t go with him." 
 
 "Better call on him at his suite in Dunster and see 
 for yourself," grimly suggested Peters. "My, but 
 you d get the icy mitt ! " 
 
 Tom maintained silence. He had had an experi 
 ence with Catherwood earlier in the year. The 
 first day of the term when the line formed in the 
 yard to "register" he had found himself beside this 
 very boy, although he had not known his name. 
 Though the latter was only coldly polite they had 
 
56 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 had some slight conversation, which Tom had re 
 garded as sufficient excuse for nodding when next 
 they met. But Catherwood had looked over his 
 head, declining either to recognize him or return his 
 salutation in any way. Deeply chagrined, Tom tried 
 to deceive himself into the belief that Catherwood s 
 rudeness was unintentional and due to bad eyesight. 
 He knew better, however. For the first time in 
 his life he realized that, for some reason, another 
 human being did not wish his acquaintance. It was 
 a trifling incident but it had been like a blow in the 
 face, and had driven him deep into his shell. There 
 after he had waited to be introduced to his class 
 mates and the introductions had been few. Yet 
 his natural spirits were high and he had a dry, 
 whimsical humor that could keep the boys chuckling, 
 as he recounted various childish experiences in which 
 figured Uncle Ezra, the " Reverend Sparrow," and 
 other worthies. Being at this period simple, kindly, 
 and straightforward, as well as more than usually 
 sociable, Tom, not knowing how to make new ac 
 quaintances, took up with such wastrels as chance 
 cast in his path, and, his friendships being fortuitous, 
 the friends themselves were of a heterogeneous 
 character. But the canker of discontent gnawed 
 at his heart, when he saw other men, who, perhaps, 
 had made the athletic teams, becoming good friends 
 and running things generally while he figured in 
 the class, so far as he figured at all, as a mere spec 
 tator. But he made up his mind never to admit 
 disappointment! There was no use being a 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 57 
 
 "grouch/ and people had to be left out in college 
 just as much as anywhere else, so when Peters had 
 said that they were a "bunch of lemons" he had dis 
 sented as vigorously as the others. Nevertheless 
 he knew it was true. They were lemons of a 
 sort ! He was sensitive to a lack of what might be 
 called "quality" in all of them except perhaps 
 Francis True, the dreamy little cripple who spent 
 most of his time in studying music and reading 
 poetry. He roomed just over Tom and was always 
 apologizing to him about the piano, although to the 
 latter it was a real delight. Those other chance 
 friends of his lacked he couldn t say just what. 
 It was something about their point of view. They 
 had a penchant, even Holden, for rather dirty stories. 
 Ricker was a coarse brute, and so was Cryder, while 
 Smith and Peters had the habit of mysteriously dis 
 appearing in the evenings, either alone or together 
 and turning up the next afternoon very seedy and 
 with their eyes ringed with circles. Smith made 
 such a noise about being a gentleman that Tom 
 found him unconvincing. If he hadn t talked about 
 it so much, perhaps ! 
 
 At the same time he knew that there were men in 
 the class that were his ideal in every way Ray 
 mond Dwight, for instance, the president, who had 
 lived all his life on Commonwealth Avenue within 
 five blocks of Tom s house without their ever hav 
 ing met. But how get to know him? 
 
 Tom still spent his Sundays at home with his 
 mother, returning to the Newbury Street house in 
 
58 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 time for supper on Saturday night. Mrs. Kelly 
 was now over sixty and her hair was nearly white; 
 Bridget also had broad streaks of gray in her thin 
 straight tresses and her homely face was heavily 
 lined with wrinkles; while Maggie, his old nurse, 
 had succumbed to the drunken endearments, sup 
 plemented by legal threats, of her tailor husband 
 and had disappeared into the wooden wildernesses 
 of Roxbury. Also his mother had relaxed .some 
 thing of her religious severity, while adhering strin 
 gently to its outward forms and observances. 
 She still attended regularly all the meetings of her 
 various church societies and had induced Tom by 
 urgent solicitation to act as an usher on Sundays, 
 but she had no realization of the necessity of youth 
 for mere gayety and laughter. She thought, good 
 soul, that it should be enough for Tom, after his 
 week in Cambridge, to sit quietly at home on 
 Saturday nights with her in the library, and on 
 Sundays to escort her sedately to their house of 
 worship. 
 
 But acting as an usher at St. Agnes s was a pretty 
 tame substitute for the week-end relaxations of most 
 of the other boys in the class. There were Papanti s 
 elegant " Saturday Evenings," for instance, at which 
 the youth and beauty of the Back Bay and of 
 Harvard then foregathered just as they had for 
 generations past. There had been a succession of 
 Papantis and everybody in Boston (who was Any 
 body) attended their classes, just as he belonged to 
 the Somerset Club and had a seat at the Symphony 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 59 
 
 Rehearsals. But Tom knew that he could never 
 hope to break into Papanti s select circle for there 
 had never been a Kelly in the dancing- class and 
 there never would be. In various indefinable ways 
 it had been brought home to Tom during the ten 
 years preceding his advent in Cambridge, that 
 anybody of his name was regarded by the Back 
 Bay somehow as a sort of "mucker." 
 
 Tom had begun his career at Harvard without 
 even a rudimentary knowledge of the art of dancing, 
 and, needless to say, did not own any garments that 
 by the extremest poetic license could be regarded 
 as "evening dress." When his friend Walton- 
 Smith, therefore, invited him to a dinner at the 
 W r alton-Smith villa in Brookline "to be followed by 
 dancing" it was necessary to explain to him that 
 dress clothes were de rigueur; and Tom, resolved to 
 make the most of his opportunities, went down some 
 where on lower Washington Street and there un 
 earthed a "Professor" Salvini who, for half a dollar, 
 gave him fullest instructions as to how to "one- 
 two-three-slide" and permitted him to spend an 
 hour waltzing with two stout Swedish cooks, his 
 pupils. The cooks were not only good-natured 
 but danced rather well, and Tom, having hired a 
 dress suit for three dollars, attended the Walton- 
 Smiths dinner and enjoyed it hugely. 
 
 It was his first glimpse of any sort of luxury. 
 He did not know that it was a pretentious affair, 
 that his hosts were ill-bred nouveaux riches, that the 
 music was cheap, and the dinner sent in from a 
 
6o THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 caterer s. He saw only bright flowers and the 
 faces of smiling girls, heard only the exhilarating 
 strains of the waltz. To his starved soul it was 
 little less than ecstasy. And this peep into the 
 world of gayety sent Tom back to his lonely room 
 in Cambridge even more disgruntled than before, 
 feeling that he had been cheated out of something 
 which it was too late for him ever to regain, and 
 that among those vaguely responsible were Uncle 
 Ezra, Aunt Minerva, and the " Reverend Sparrow. 7 
 Without having a suspicion of it, he was ripe for a 
 revolt, almost ready to kick over the moral bucket 
 and " spill the beans." Without acknowledging it, 
 he was sick of Horatio P. Ricker, Cryder, Holden, 
 Peters, Walton-Smith all of them! He wanted 
 something better just what, he could not have 
 formulated. He wanted, doubtless, what he had no 
 right to expect that the world should be changed, 
 and the hopelessness of it all, including the fact that 
 the world wouldn t change, was so obvious to him 
 that, as he sat in his room on the evening of the 
 celebrated appearance of Mr. Howard Catherwood s 
 father in the gallery of Memorial Hall, he could 
 hardly read his Gibbon for the blinding tears that 
 would force themselves between him and the fine 
 print of the page for there was a sound in the yard 
 that fills the Freshman either with ecstasy or de 
 spair, the lilting song of a hundred men as they 
 march to "take out" the latest member of the "In 
 stitute of 1770." 
 
 They were coming across the Yard from some 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 6 1 
 
 other building and the song grew louder and louder 
 each moment. 
 
 "Tra lala la ! lala ! lala ! lalalala ! lala ! 
 lala! la! " 
 
 Other lads, sitting alone in other shabby rooms, 
 heard the song and their hearts stopped beating. 
 Even Tom, wholly aware that there was probably 
 not a soul in that entire heterogeneous society who 
 knew him by name, held his breath as the tramping 
 feet drew near. Could they possibly have heard 
 about him in some mysterious fashion? Perhaps 
 they had a system of secretly looking up everybody 
 in the class without his knowing it and 
 
 "Tra lala la ! lala ! lala ! lala ! " 
 
 They were right outside now. They were coming 
 in! The goose-flesh rose on his back and arms. 
 Their footsteps thundered on his very threshold ! 
 His head swam in an agony of expectation. Why 
 didn t they pound on the door or break it in? 
 Should he go and open it just a crack ? For a 
 moment there was silence outside and he could 
 hear the rustle of a paper. In that instant partial 
 sanity returned to him. Of course it couldn t be 
 that they were coming for him But for whom? 
 in that building? Suddenly with a shout the 
 crowd stampeded on up the wooden stairs 
 
 "Tra lala la - - " the song halted for lack of 
 breath. 
 
62 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 He heard a sharp knock directly over his head, a 
 confusion of voices, cheers, and then a tumult of 
 feet as the crowd descended again and poured out 
 into the Yard. 
 
 They had taken out little Frank True ! 
 
 Astounded, Tom threw open his window and let 
 the humid night-air dry the sweat that had gathered 
 profusely on his forehead. He felt strangely weak. 
 They were nearly down to Matthew s now the 
 song getting fainter and fainter. Frank True? 
 Why, True didn t begin to know as many fellows 
 as he did ! They took True ! 
 
 "You in, Irish ?" 
 
 The door had been burst unceremoniously open 
 by Ricker, who, collarless, his head bound with a 
 wet towel, seemed to be suffering from some kind of 
 stroke. 
 
 "Say!" Ricker s voice choked as if his throat 
 were quite dry. "Are you on to what s happened? 
 The Institute s taken out Frank True! That 
 miserable little skate up-stairs ! Nobody ever heard 
 of him at all! Damn it all! Damn everything!" 
 Ricker was beside himself frankly crying 
 
 "Oh, buck up !" replied Tom, gazing bitterly into 
 the night. 
 
 "I heard em coming," Ricker almost sobbed. 
 "They stopped right out in front and I I 
 thought maybe I bet you did too Irish ! 
 How c d we help it? And it s that little squirt that 
 plays the piano all day! How do you s pose he 
 ever got any pull? And look how I ve worked! 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 63 
 
 You know merit ought to count for something! 
 And you, too, Tom you really know a whole lot 
 of fellows!" 
 
 Tom did not respond, for his universe was rocking. 
 Of course, True might be a swell in disguise you 
 could easily be mistaken, especially in one of those 
 awfully quiet fellows. And on the other hand it 
 might have been merely a chance shot. He didn t 
 believe those things went by chance, though. How 
 ridiculous of Ricker to have the absurd idea that 
 they were coming after him ! And yet his spirits 
 sank what reason had he to suppose that he was 
 any more socially acceptable than the grind? 
 Weren t they two of a kind two lemons off the 
 same tree? He felt a sudden detestation for both 
 Ricker and himself. 
 
 "Hang it!" he growled, without looking round. 
 "Don t be a sour-belly! Quit the baby act, won t 
 you?" 
 
 Then, hearing nothing, and feeling that he had 
 been a bit inconsiderate, he added: 
 
 "Of course, it s rotten hard lines !" 
 
 There was no response and he turned to find 
 the room empty. Ricker had retired to the more 
 sympathetic atmosphere of his own dingy quarters 
 across the landing. Tom, glad of his departure, 
 filled his pipe and smoked it in silent bitterness of 
 spirit. Curse the luck! Everybody else seemed 
 to be having a good time except himself and his own 
 crowd of left-overs. There was nothing for him but 
 to grind grind ! 
 
64 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 And what good* would it do him in the end? 
 Four years thrown away when he might be getting 
 ahead in some good business or studying law per 
 haps. There he would sit by himself in that same 
 room for four dreary years ! What was the use of 
 his being at Cambridge at all ? It was just inviting 
 misery ! He had looked forward in a vague way to 
 college as a place where all the fellows in a class 
 sat around on the grass joking one another, or sing 
 ing songs about "bright college days." Bright col 
 lege days ! He didn t know even his own class 
 mates when he saw them in the Yard ! 
 
 A step sounded outside and Peters sauntered in. 
 
 "That was a hell of a note, wasn t it?" he in 
 quired. "A lot of slobs must have had heart-failure 
 to-night, all right! Well, I always suspected True 
 of being a deep one. But it ll all come out in the 
 wash." 
 
 He went over and stood by the window and Tom 
 perceived that he was arrayed in an immaculate 
 blue suit with a dun-colored waistcoat. 
 
 "Look here!" said Peters suddenly. "Aren t 
 you ever going to get any fun out of life? Come 
 along into Boston with me right now and let s 
 make a night of it. Why not have a good 
 time? We re out of it here, fast enough, but 
 Cambridge isn t the whole world by any manner 
 of means. That blooming tra la la has got 
 on my nerves!" 
 
 Peters s suggestion had come at the psychological 
 moment, for Tom felt the physical need of escape 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 65 
 
 from an atmosphere which seemed to be smothering 
 him. 
 
 "What are you going to do?" he asked in per 
 fect innocence of Peters s actual designs. 
 
 "Have a boiled live lobster and mug of musty, 
 first off," he answered, suppressing the smile that 
 rose to his lips. 
 
 "Cost much?" 
 
 "Oh, I ll blow you !" offered Peters royally. "I 
 need a really jovial companion." 
 
 Tom gave a melancholy laugh. 
 
 "All right," he agreed, "I ll go you." 
 
 He blew out the kerosene-lamp swiftly, as if fear 
 ful that he might change his mind, and snatched his 
 hat off the peg behind the door. 
 
 "I ll go as far as you like ! " he added as he kicked 
 to the door viciously; and they hurried down the 
 steps together into the darkness of the Yard. 
 
TOM did not awake next day until noon and, when 
 at last he did, it was with a severe headache over 
 his right eye and a taste in his mouth suggestive of 
 having devoured dusty fur. Moreover, he had also 
 an aggravating realization that the fun had been 
 by no means worth the price he was now paying 
 for it, and that he had escaped lasting degradation 
 only by a narrow margin. His excesses, however, 
 had culminated only in the drinking of rather too 
 much musty ale, a form of refreshment to which he 
 was entirely unaccustomed. 
 
 The reason for this had been simple. The sur 
 face car in which Peters and he had journeyed into 
 Boston passed within a block of his mother s home 
 in Newbury Street and Tom had had a momentary 
 vision of the white-haired little old lady sitting in 
 the library over her knitting. He had almost been 
 moved to stop the car and to go over to the house 
 to bid her good night. But he felt self-conscious 
 about it he told himself that it would not have 
 been polite to Peters. The thought of his mother 
 had, however, tempered the recklessness of his first 
 mood, and when, after the "lobster and musty" 
 at Billy Park s, Peters had proposed "going along 
 on somewhere" Tom had mumbled something in- 
 
 66 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 67 
 
 articulate about "an hour exam, the next day" 
 and rather brusquely parted from him on the side 
 walk. 
 
 He was inexpressibly glad now that he had. He 
 lay in bed gazing at a spot on the wall, just as when 
 a child he had stared up at the variegated worsted 
 motto over his mother s bedroom door that invited 
 him in ornamental characters to come and "Be 
 Saved." He could see it now "Look unto Me 
 and Be Ye Saved." How often as a small boy he 
 had asked himself: "Saved" from what? Hell 
 with its sulphurous fumes, as pictured by Uncle 
 Ezra, had faded out of his existence, not at all as 
 the result of any reasoning process but simply as it 
 were "by attrition." What was there to be saved 
 from? Why was it necessary to be saved? 
 
 His subconscious mind visualized the room in 
 which he had been born. He saw the sad, sweet 
 face of the steel-engraved Madonna over the marble 
 mantelpiece and the fat, happy, wise little child in 
 her arms. And, as he lay there half dreaming, the 
 face seemed to change to that of his mother when 
 she was young, her eyes full of the mystery of mother 
 hood, and the baby on her bosom became himself 
 little Tom. He recalled how she would clasp him 
 tightly to her as a tiny child; and he fancied now 
 that he could almost feel her arms. 
 
 The twelve-o clock recitation-bell clanged from 
 the cupola of Massachusetts and startled him to 
 broad wakefulness. The faces on the wall dis 
 solved, leaving only the spot. Through the open 
 
68 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 window came the smell of cut grass and hot earth, 
 and the sound of hurrying footsteps on the stone 
 flagging outside. Then, just above his head, some 
 body began playing Mendelssohn s " Spring Song." 
 He listened, enchanted in spite of his wretchedness. 
 He could almost hear the birds singing in the budding 
 branches of white blossoming trees, see the butter 
 flies as they flickered from flower to flower, smell 
 the riotous perfumes of a germinating and nascent 
 world. The pianist played as if he, too, were happy. 
 The instrument seemed to be singing joyously in 
 answer to his loving touch. 
 
 But in the midst of his listening Tom again ex 
 perienced the pangs of jealousy. No wonder True 
 was happy! No wonder the notes fell in an ec 
 static shower from his fingers ! Bah ! Tom turned 
 over and tried to invite sleep once more. In spite 
 of his disappointment the music soothed him again 
 into a state of semiconsciousness. He found him 
 self repeating, over and over, the words "Come and 
 be saved Come and be saved"; and suddenly it 
 occurred to him that he had been saved from some 
 thing by the thought of his mother the night before. 
 Curious ! Perhaps the words of Christ had a signif 
 icance he had not suspected. Perhaps different 
 people were saved differently from different things, 
 or, at least, by different means. The " Spring Song " 
 had ceased and, in its stead, Nevin s "Papillon" 
 was darting amid a flower-bed of sweet music. Per 
 haps some people were saved by music. Some, 
 perhaps, by their mothers. And some by the love 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 69 
 
 of God and belief in Jesus. A qualm of nausea made 
 him realize his own little present Hell very acutely. 
 That, he had not been saved from, but he had been 
 saved from the agony of an utter loss of self-respect. 
 It was a great old puzzle, this human life ! 
 
 At length he got up and weakly dressed. The 
 sunlight dizzied him at first, but soon the fresh air 
 made him feel much better and he crawled as far 
 as the front steps and watched the fellows pouring 
 out of the old buildings to go to lunch. No lunch 
 for him, thank you! The men streamed past him 
 by the hundred, some plodding along alone, some 
 walking in twos and threes, and occasionally in a 
 phalanx of twelve or fifteen jovial companions. But 
 out of the lot only about two nodded to him. The 
 rest were as good as strangers. Was there any rea 
 son why half the class should have a good time and 
 the other half not? Why should he be left out? 
 Hadn t he as much to offer as most? He assured 
 himself doggedly that he loved Harvard. It was 
 a "great old place," beautiful there in the Yard! 
 And he went to the games and always yelled as loud 
 as anybody only, somehow, he didn t feel as if he 
 "belonged." He was more like a casual stranger 
 that had simply bought a seat and was politely in 
 terested in the result. What the devil did he care 
 who won? What difference did it make to him? 
 Of course he talked a whole lot like the other fellows 
 in his crowd about the make-up of the teams and 
 the crews, but he knew well that they were aping an 
 enthusiasm they did not feel. He didn t know the 
 
70 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 players or oarsmen themselves, and, even if Har 
 vard won, he would not have the privilege of slap 
 ping anybody on the back. No, it was a fake this 
 college life ! So feels many a man who belongs to 
 what might be called "the gray zone," which lies 
 between those of his fellows who are obviously quali 
 fied and those who are as obviously unsuited by 
 personality and training for college social life. There 
 was no particular reason why Tom should not have 
 received the recognition which he craved. He was 
 well-mannered, attractive, and intelligent. But 
 he had been fortuitously excluded, just as others 
 more fortunate in their friends had been left out 
 of clubs simply because there was no room for 
 them. 
 
 He glanced through the open window into his 
 room with its hideous, yellow wall-paper, its big, 
 ugly, rusty iron stove, and the grotesque picture of 
 the bird made of "real feathers" that he had hung 
 so as to cover a soiled spot over the sofa and the 
 sofa itself ! Horse-hair. His mother had suggested 
 using it because it was so strong and perfectly good 
 it having belonged to Miss Fanny Trollop she 
 that weighed three hundred pounds. He admitted 
 that the room certainly was not much to look at, 
 nor yet to live in. It didn t have any "atmosphere 
 of culture" or anything else. It simply looked like 
 a bad case of jaundice. Tom s disgust grew upon 
 him. He wondered who had fixed up Frank True s 
 room for him. Somebody had spent real money 
 on it, for sure ! Those big leather chairs cost some- 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 71 
 
 thing, and so did those old prints four or five 
 dollars apiece at least. He decided True must in 
 reality be a good deal of a snob underneath. Tom 
 had originally nodded to him just out of pity, so to 
 speak. Of course you d speak to any little cuss 
 who had a withered leg in an iron brace ! But now, 
 if he said anything to True the latter would think 
 he was trying to swipe to him ! He d jolly well leave 
 True alone, he would ! 
 
 Tom almost immediately had a chance to put this 
 resolution into practice, for Frank came hitching 
 down the stairs on the way to lunch. 
 
 "Oh, heUo, Irish !" he caUed out cheerily. 
 "Aren t you eating to-day?" 
 
 Tom nodded stiffly, without looking at him. 
 True was puzzled. 
 
 "Don t you feel well?" he asked sympathetically. 
 "I hope my playing didn t " 
 
 "I d thank you not to call me Irish !" Tom sud 
 denly blazed forth. "That s not my name under 
 stand?" 
 
 In truth this was the merest pretext for giving 
 vent to his annoyance with life in general, for 
 "Irish" had been his nickname at school, and as 
 "Irish" he was known to all his associates. 
 
 True s sensitive mouth quivered, and he turned 
 first white and then a deep red. 
 
 "Oh he stammered, tears coming into his 
 eyes. "Oh, Kelly ! I m terribly sorry. I wouldn t 
 have said anything to hurt your feelings for the 
 world. I supposed you didn t mind being called 
 
72 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 that. So many fellows like nicknames it seems 
 more friendly." 
 
 " Well, I do mind it !" snapped Tom and abruptly 
 arose and re-entered his room, leaving True on the 
 steps. 
 
 He made himself a cup of hot chocolate over the 
 gas-lamp on the wooden wash-stand and, having 
 eaten half a dozen soda-crackers, began to feel better. 
 Presently, in fact, he felt even better than usual. 
 The omission of a Memorial Hall luncheon is cal 
 culated to encourage the gastro-intestinal tract and 
 in addition Tom had the recuperative powers of 
 perfect health. It occurred to him that he had in 
 fact treated Peters somewhat shabbily the night 
 before and that he ought to go and set himself 
 right. After that he would attend the lecture on 
 English literature over in Sever Eleven. 
 
 In the bright, lifegiving sunshine, Tom strolled 
 down the Yard under the spreading elms toward 
 the old stone building at the lower end, known as 
 Weld Hall, where Peters had his room. There 
 were few people about, as it was not yet two o clock 
 nearer half past one, in fact so that he could not 
 help noticing a young girl in a dark-blue dress who 
 was carrying a violin-case. She was crossing the 
 Yard diagonally and Tom, quite naturally, slack 
 ened his pace so that their paths might converge 
 near Massachusetts Hall. He could not have 
 explained why he slowed up to see what the girl in 
 blue was like any more than a puppy could explain 
 why he turns around a couple of times before he 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 73 
 
 lies down. Wonderful the exuberant spirit of 
 youth! Here was Tom tingling to the primordial 
 instinct of man when but an hour before he had 
 been groaning upon the bed of pain! And since 
 the young woman was totally unconscious of his 
 approach, his manoeuvre was entirely successful 
 and they came abruptly face to face. 
 
 She was nearly as tall as Tom and very slender, 
 and her skin had a rich golden tone which softened 
 the brilliant, even startling, color of her cheeks. 
 She had evidently been thinking, for she raised her 
 eyes suddenly and looked straight into his without 
 seeming to know that he was there. Aware of his 
 presence, she first gave him a look of half -recognition, 
 and, then, as if she had found herself in error, blushed 
 slightly and hurried on. Tom had a strange feeling 
 of having seen those eyes before he could not 
 imagine where. He found that his heart was throb 
 bing quite excitedly. It was a piquant, alluring 
 face, full of flickering lights and shadows. With a 
 sensation of almost physical pain he watched her 
 disappear around the corner of the building. As 
 she did so he fancied that she, too, looked back. He 
 felt sure somehow that, in a previous state of exist 
 ence perhaps, he had known this tantalizing young 
 person. And she too, evidently, had been under a 
 similar impression. Dejectedly he walked on. 
 
 The door of Peters s room was unlocked and 
 Andy himself was stretched out on the window-seat 
 smoking a cigar and reading a paper-covered book, 
 which he tossed aside ostentatiously as Tom entered. 
 
74 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 "What you got there?" asked Tom, examining 
 the title with respect, it being in French De- 
 Maupassant s "Mon Ami." Peters yawned, a 
 trifle less cordial than usual. 
 
 "You sort of welched on me last night, didn t 
 you?" he inquired. "Have a cigar?" And as 
 Tom shook his head he laughed and added: "You 
 do look a bit squiffy." 
 
 "It wasn t that," explained Tom, sitting down 
 on the window-seat. "The fact of the matter was 
 I had such a grouch on I wasn t fit to go around 
 with anybody. I felt like a killjoy. I m sorry I 
 went back on you. That s why I came over." 
 
 " Oh, forget it ! " said Peters. " I was just as glad 
 you didn t come along !" 
 
 His tone, slightly superior, nettled his guest. 
 
 "What do you mean by that?" Tom demanded. 
 
 "You lost your nerve that was plain enough!" 
 retorted Peters. "And I don t purpose to be re 
 sponsible for any one else s morals." 
 
 The accuracy of Peters s diagnosis was so obvious 
 that it left Tom without rejoinder. He had lost his 
 nerve. Though he no longer believed in a red-hot 
 hell, he regarded the moral code of his mother and 
 of her church as of divine origin. The Bible had 
 plenty to say about the scarlet woman and wine- 
 bibbers among whom were probably included 
 drinkers of musty ale. But there was a difference 
 between drinking a trifle more than was good for 
 the digestion and actual drunkenness. Drunken 
 ness was sinful. Musty ale was well, excusable. 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 75 
 
 You might have a slight mental reservation in 
 accepting all the horrible consequences prophesied 
 as certain to fall upon those who broke the law as 
 contained in Holy Writ, but something would surely 
 happen to you whatever or whenever it might be. 
 But of course if there was some mysterious way of 
 indulging in sinful pleasures without future retribu 
 tion, why ! 
 
 "Well," he answered stubbornly, and lighting his 
 pipe for moral support, "supposing I did lose my 
 nerve?" 
 
 Peters shrugged his shoulders as if in polite dep 
 recation of any possible criticism from him. 
 
 " Nothing," he replied with condescension. " Only 
 I thought you were more of a man of the world." 
 
 "Oh, I guess I m enough of a man of the world, all 
 right," defiantly answered Tom. Then, lowering his 
 voice as if imparting a mysterious secret: "I m not 
 such a stick in the mud as you might think !" He 
 didn t know himself what he meant by these words 
 exactly. But they sounded significant even if vague. 
 
 Peters said nothing. 
 
 "Only," floundered on Tom, "I like to get the 
 other fellow s ideas and and that sort of thing, 
 first. Don t you suppose a chap has got to pay for 
 his good time later on?" 
 
 Peters looked at Tom through lowered eyelids, 
 thinking to himself what a holy innocent this big 
 boy was. 
 
 "How do you mean?" 
 
 Tom hesitated. 
 
76 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 "Of course, you understand, I don t believe in 
 hell that is the regular kind of old-fashioned hell. 
 But I do believe in a hereafter don t you?" He 
 looked expectantly at Peters. 
 
 "I don t believe in any hereafter any more than 
 I believe in any hell," answered the latter shortly. 
 "In fact to make a long story short, I don t believe 
 in anything except science. Old Darwin put the 
 kibosh on all religious rot!" Peters stretched his 
 legs comfortably. "You don t go on swallowing 
 Jonah and the whale, do you? Or believe that 
 Joshua just crossed his fingers and made the sun 
 standstill? WeU? 
 
 "God so far as there is any such thing and 
 nature are one and the same. Of course you suffer 
 for violating nature s laws. You drank too much 
 musty last night, I can see it in your eyes. But 
 you ve paid already for that enormity. You ve 
 got the receipt for it in your pocket. You don t 
 suppose that besides having a headache now you 
 are going to get soaked over again, at the Day of 
 Judgment?" 
 
 "N n no !" admitted Tom. 
 
 "Well, if you want to be happy you d better not. 
 Your health s your own, isn t it? If I want to dis 
 sipate a little and am willing to pay for it, it s no 
 body s business but my own, is it? Why, it s all so 
 simple, when you look at it that way !" 
 
 "But the Bible" interrupted Tom nervously. 
 
 "The Bible! Poppycock! Do you pay any 
 attention to what the Koran says? Or the Book of 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 77 
 
 Mormon ? Well, there s millions of intelligent people 
 believe in them. And they both say you can have as 
 many wives as you can pay for !" 
 
 "All the same " began Tom again 
 
 "The trouble with you is that you haven t studied 
 these things/ 7 went on Peters now fully aroused to 
 the delights of proselyting. "You talk like an old 
 woman. You ve got to get your head clear of all 
 this Bible stuff. You ve got to start fair. This 
 religious business is bunk. Why this very college 
 is Unitarian. Well, what s that but free thinking? 
 Every wise man believes the same thing, but no 
 wise man ever tells what it is. You know what it 
 is l nothing? Ha ha ! As soon as you find out 
 what every scientific man knows that the only 
 suffering in store for you is what you get right here 
 and now, and that nobody is going to stand up at 
 the last great day and tell the angels all about 
 you through a brass trumpet why then you can 
 go off and have a good time once in a while without 
 worrying about it, because a bit of that sort of thing 
 doesn t hurt anybody. A little dissipation is a good 
 thing! Isn t the world isn t literature full of the 
 joys of wine, women, and song ? You ve outgrown 
 Sunday-school, Tommy, my boy. The devil is 
 dead !" 
 
 "Well, I m glad to get your point of view," said 
 Tom. "I don t see why they don t give courses in 
 these things. It seems a whole lot more important 
 than studying about the l Romantic Movement. " 
 
 Peters laughed. 
 
78 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 "If they told you the truth, they d tell you the 
 same as I do. People aren t frank about these 
 things. You can t reconcile science and the dogmas 
 of Christian theology. But, don t let me influence 
 you. I d hate to feel I d helped send any one to 
 1 hell. Just think it over for yourself." 
 
 There was nothing wilfully offensive about 
 Peters s expression of his beliefs. If he were right- 
 it would certainly roll a huge burden of responsi 
 bility off one s shoulders. Peters made God seem 
 like an "Old Man of the Sea." He wondered if he 
 could bring himself to such a state of mind, in which 
 he wouldn t have to think whether he was doing 
 right or wrong, so long as he was ready to take the 
 immediate consequences. It filled him with a 
 strange and unholy excitement. He even pictured 
 himself as becoming quite a devil, and had a sneak 
 ing desire to get points from Peters "First Steps in 
 Deviltry," so to speak. But he was already late 
 for his English lecture, as it was. 
 
 "Well, so long !" he said, pausing in the doorway 
 to adjust his cap. "We must go in town together 
 again some night soon and stay later ! " 
 
VI 
 
 THE hour was half over before Tom reached Sever 
 Hall and tiptoed to his seat; and Mr. Russell, the 
 lecturer, was already finishing what he had to say 
 about George Meredith. This instructor was popu 
 lar with the students for the simple and modest 
 manner in which he lectured, for his whimsical 
 humor, and for the unconventional way in which he 
 expressed his opinions quite fearlessly on any sub 
 ject that suggested itself. Russell s colleagues usu 
 ally spoke of him rather deprecatingly as " brilliant, 
 of course but erratic/ 7 while in Cambridge generally 
 he was regarded as something of a "character." 
 He was a lank, loose- jointed man with a face bronzed 
 by golf and camping, a large mouth and a protrud 
 ing jaw toward which bent down in a friendly fashion 
 a long crooked nose which gave the face its look of 
 determination. His eyes were brown and sur 
 rounded by tiny wrinkles, and his whole countenance 
 was creased with fine lines, all of which contributed 
 to the quizzical smile that seemed to come and go 
 of its own accord, and when least expected. 
 
 The eyes of the instructor looked off into space for 
 a moment or two as he turned over the pages in his 
 note-book, and each student selected a fresh sheet 
 of paper and prepared to take down what Mr. 
 
 79 
 
8o THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 Russell should say concerning the next author on 
 their list of subjects. But the lecturer, with an 
 apologetic smile, leaned back in his chair and 
 glanced contemplatively around the room at the two 
 hundred expectant faces uplifted to his. 
 
 "I ve been thinking," said he thoughtfully, "that 
 the trouble with us professorial folk is that most of 
 us forget that our own particular subject isn t the 
 axis of education. In my own case the temptation 
 to do this is especially dangerous, since literature is 
 nothing but the reflection of human life. You 
 come to college to be educated, but the only value of 
 education is to learn how to live." 
 
 He hesitated, and the familiar smile hovered about 
 his mouth for a brief moment. "Come to think of 
 it, I don t recall at the moment any particular elec 
 tive that is devoted to that subject. Sometime 
 perhaps Well, literature, in one way or another, 
 records the various answers given by the thinkers 
 of all ages to the question of what life is all about 
 and how it can best be lived. And in proportion 
 as those answers help the race to live, literature is 
 really vital not otherwise. Unless it helps us to 
 see the true value of things and their relative im 
 portance, it is harmful. What profiteth it a man 
 if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul ? " 
 
 Mr. Russell seemed almost to be talking to him 
 self. Don t set one branch of knowledge above an 
 other for knowledge is knowledge and mere 
 culture is nothing without a philosophy a religion 
 or whatever it is that men live by. Don t make 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 81 
 
 a god of culture. Don t, in studying literature, 
 lay too much stress upon what we call style for 
 style is only the form and not the substance, and 
 form without substance is nothing nothing !" 
 
 He shook his head dreamily. Then he gave an 
 almost inaudible chuckle and opened his leather- 
 bound notes. 
 
 "And now," he said, "having solved the riddle of 
 the universe and put poor old Solomon out of 
 business, we will proceed with the course. Our 
 next author is Robert Louis Stevenson. There 
 was a man who knew how to live, and whose style 
 reflected the calm courage of his noble soul. I 
 knew him well over in Paris at Barbizon we 
 lived for a while in the same cottage and 
 
 A boy coughed and he looked up suddenly at the 
 clock. "Five minutes after three! Dear me! 
 Well, read Virginibus Puerisque and Memories and 
 Portraits/ particularly the essay on The Gentle 
 man That is all for to-day." 
 
 Tom waited until most of the class had swarmed 
 out of the hall and then approached the lecturer, 
 as he picked up his notes, and looked around help 
 lessly for his hat. Here, by a marvellous coincidence, 
 was just the man he was looking for to whom he 
 could confide all his troubles and perplexities social 
 and ethical. 
 
 "Excuse me, Mr. Russell," he said, "sometime 
 would you mind telling me what books I could read 
 that would help me to to have a philosophy of 
 life just what you were talking about?" 
 
82 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 Russell paused one leg on the floor and one on 
 the platform. There was a deeply troubled look 
 on the face of the boy speaking to him. 
 
 "Delighted," he answered cheerily. "Let s see, 
 what s your name?" 
 
 "Kelly." 
 
 Mr. Russell examined a heavy, old-fashioned 
 timepiece and smiled. 
 
 "You want to settle everything right off, I sup 
 pose? That s right! Let s see. I m lecturing at 
 Radcliffe at four why not come and have a cup of 
 tea about five o clock ? I live over on Appian Way 
 you ll find it easy enough." 
 
 "Oh, thank you very much, sir !" cried Tom grate 
 fully. "It s awfully good of you to bother about 
 
 me." 
 
 Mr. Russell gazed at him quizzically. 
 
 "What on earth do you think I m here for any 
 way ? To make money ? " 
 
 Tom became deeply embarrassed. "Oh, no ! 
 
 he stammered. 
 
 "No," went on the instructor. "I m here try 
 ing to find out how to wiggle along myself." 
 
VII 
 
 THE Russell house on Appian Way stood a few 
 feet behind a white picket fence in which there hung 
 a gate fastened by a leather loop. Tom found that 
 to get in you first unhooked this loop, pushed back 
 the gate, and then used a brass knocker. If nothing 
 happened you knocked again louder; then you 
 heard a grunt and the lecturer himself opened the 
 door, smoking a pipe and in his shirt-sleeves. 
 
 "Come in! Glad to see you!" he held out a 
 knotty, brown hand and dragged Tom in. 
 
 The house was a queer, chopped-up little place, 
 with tiny rooms, low ceilings, and the floors on differ 
 ent levels, as if built at various architectural epochs, 
 but it was flooded with sunshine and full of warm 
 chintz and bright-colored rugs. On the right of 
 the diminutive entrance-hall was a small library 
 lined from floor to ceiling with books, in which, 
 although it was late April, a bright wood-fire 
 was blazing. On the mantel lay a row of black 
 ened pipes, an old collie dog snoozed audibly on a 
 threadbare sheepskin rug before the fireplace, and 
 in the window stood a desk piled high with blue 
 pamphlets, manuscripts, papers of all kinds and 
 stacks of volumes between which were thrust 
 "spills" or lighters made of newspaper for markers. 
 
 83 
 
84 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 There was a rich odor of tobacco and crumbling 
 leather everywhere, an omnipresent sense of com 
 fort; and Tom noticed, as Russell forced him down 
 into a big leather chair, that his host had on car 
 pet slippers. Having offered his visitor his choice of 
 a pipe, the professor threw himself into another 
 equally large armchair on the other side of the 
 collie and examined Tom with good-natured in 
 terest. 
 
 "I believe you wanted to find out what it was all 
 about, eh? You probably thought from my dis 
 jointed outburst this p. M. you had run bump into 
 Marcus Aurelius? Well, you haven t. However 
 what s troubling you?" 
 
 There was something so kindly, so cheery, so 
 hospitable about this lanky pipe smoker that Tom s 
 heart warmed to him almost as to a father. Yet, 
 at the same time, he had a sudden feeling of em 
 barrassment at the idea of complaining about his 
 lot to one who really didn t seem to have very much 
 more himself, yet who regarded life with such huge 
 content. Moreover, his ethical problems in that 
 peaceful, happy atmosphere, appeared curiously 
 speculative and theoretical. He couldn t imagine 
 his host ever having any desire to do those dubious 
 things which Peters alleged that everybody did 
 or having any question in his mind as to why he 
 should pursue one rather than another particular 
 course of conduct. He did not appreciate either 
 how fully Russell realized that youth is the age of 
 fiery temptation, that it is natural that youth should 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 85 
 
 wish to be assured that self-restraint is the ordained 
 law of life, that youth is the age of doubt, self- 
 consciousness, introspection, egotism. Russell knew 
 that the same impulse animated Tom in seeking his 
 advice as had animated those hundreds of other 
 young men who had entered that same room, seated 
 themselves in that same big leather chair, and 
 puffed from that same old black brier pipe. He 
 knew that that impulse was essentially selfish. 
 They all wanted to know the same two things; why 
 they ought to behave themselves and why they 
 didn t have more fun in college ! 
 
 He could have told Tom exactly what was worry 
 ing him had he chosen to do so, but he waited with 
 a courteously expectant manner as if his visitor 
 were undoubtedly about to propound some wholly 
 novel and vitally suggestive problem. As Tom ap 
 peared to find it difficult to begin, he endeavored to 
 give him a start in what he knew to be the desired 
 direction. 
 
 "I suppose you re a bit groggy from the new 
 ideas you ve had thrown at you out here?" he ven 
 tured. " We all go through it. You re not the only 
 one. I was in a very upset state at one time myself. 
 But the curious part of it all is that as you go along 
 the problems tend to settle themselves every new 
 experience of actual life sheds some light on what 
 has appeared a dark subject, and by and by the 
 shadows are all driven away and there aren t any 
 problems left." 
 
 "Yes," answered Tom, finding his tongue at last. 
 
86 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 "But at first they re pretty black there s a sort 
 of chaos in a fellow s brain and nothing left to 
 hang on to!" 
 
 Mr. Russell nodded sympathetically. 
 
 "In nine cases out of ten that sort of thing is due 
 to discontent. A fellow that s fully occupied and 
 happy hasn t much time to bother about ethics. 
 His instinct tells him what s right and what s wrong 
 and that s the end of it for him. But the chap 
 who is down on his luck begins to wonder whether 
 he hasn t got some fun coming to him in directions 
 that he s always been taught to steer clear of to 
 ask himself why he shouldn t cut out and have a 
 good time just as if there were no ten command 
 ments, and a man could raise a thirst. Now, if 
 you ll pardon me, I ll hazard the guess that you re 
 unhappy about something." 
 
 Tom flushed, perceiving that his host had diag 
 nosed his case with psychological accuracy. In 
 stantly he responded to the genial encouragement 
 of the other to constitute him a father confessor. 
 
 "Yes," he admitted, "I am." Already his 
 grudge against life had begun to take on a 
 strangely petty aspect. He was almost ashamed 
 to go on. 
 
 "What s the trouble?" Russell s voice was like 
 an arm thrown around Tom s shoulder. 
 
 "I I m lonely!" the lad burst out, his eyes fill 
 ing with tears. 
 
 "Bless my soul!" responded Russell. "How 
 curious ! 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 87 
 
 The world is so full of a number of things, 
 I think we should all be as happy as kings!" 
 
 "No," said Tom, "it isn t that. I m a sort of 
 left-over. I can t seem to get to know the best 
 fellows." 
 
 "Which are the best fellows?" 
 
 "I mean the popular ones that everybody likes ! 
 I don t know any of them. And I haven t any way 
 to get to know them. I d like to join a club, but I 
 won t have the chance. I feel left out that s the 
 long and short of it." 
 
 "Well," answered Russell, "I don t suppose you 
 expect to make a career of society?" 
 
 "Hardly," said Tom with such grimness that 
 Russell could not help laughing. 
 
 "Look here!" remarked his host with sudden 
 severity. "I guess I ll have to give you a regular 
 talking to ! You promise not to mind ? Take 
 another pipe of tobacco. The fact is that your 
 point of view is all cock-eyed. Here you are, 
 healthy, strong, sound as a drum in every way 
 eating like a river-horse, I ll bet with enough vi 
 tality in you to drag a horse-car life all before you 
 all its richest experiences ahead with four years of 
 extraordinary opportunity at your elbow com 
 plaining growling, pardon me because you don t 
 happen to know a few dozen men who have elected 
 each other into what they call a club. Don t you 
 see what an absurdity it is ? How you overempha 
 size a fact of only the most trivial importance? 
 
88 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 You ve come out here, presumably, to get an educa 
 tion to be brought out of yourself to learn what 
 you are and how to get along in this great flux that 
 we call the world. Well, you don t expect this 
 university which is a part of the world to be 
 different from the rest of it, do you ? Or, if so, why 
 do you? If you were living in New York or Boston 
 would you expect the Four Hundred to take you to 
 their bosoms? Of course not! You haven t any 
 more right to be taken into a club her e than you have 
 there. You re like the fellow that thinks because 
 he s been born a member of the human race he ought 
 to be given a fur overcoat and a package of meal 
 tickets. You ve got to pull your weight here and 
 outside. You have to take life as you find it. You 
 have no right to demand anything, and you ought 
 to be thankful for everything you ve got. Do you 
 realize that you cost the college about three times 
 what you pay in tuition fees? That you re an 
 object of charity?" 
 
 "No I had no idea of it!" answered Tom in 
 genuine surprise. 
 
 "Well, it s true!" retorted his host. "You re 
 getting something for nothing and you owe a debt 
 of honor to the men who have gone before you and 
 made your present educational opportunities possi 
 ble. That s what it means to be admitted into 
 The Fellowship of Educated Men. Some dead 
 man has paid your entrance-fee! And it s a deal 
 better than getting into any social club, where like 
 as not all you d do would be to lie around and tell 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 89 
 
 stories or play cards. You ought to be thinking 
 about what you can do for the university, not about 
 whether you re getting every last thing that is com 
 ing to you out of the college ! " 
 
 " That s true, too !" said Tom rather sheepishly. 
 
 "Of course it s hard to see other fellows having 
 what you imagine is a high old time while you re 
 being left out. But you re going to see that all your 
 life. You ve got to begin by draining the jealousy 
 out of your system if you expect to be happy. And 
 then you ve got to make up your mind what you 
 want out of life and go after it. Do you want to 
 go around with a lot of rich men? Do you want a 
 yacht and a palace at Newport?" 
 
 "Oh, I shouldn t mind," said Tom with a forced 
 laugh. 
 
 The rugged face of his mentor grew stern. 
 
 "If they came in the ordinary course were in 
 cidents in a useful life well enough perhaps. But 
 let me tell you something ! The law of life is strug 
 gle change development! Man finds his highest 
 happiness in activity, achievement, creative work, 
 self-expression. The idle have no true happiness. 
 Those who seek happiness never find it except in 
 so far as they work for it. As my friend James over 
 on Harvard Street says : It isn t what we have, but 
 what we are. The silver cup a fellow gets for 
 winning a race isn t anything in itself. It s only a 
 symbol. It shows he s the kind of a fellow that can 
 win a race. And it s the same way with money and 
 material possessions of all sorts valueless except so 
 
90 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 far as they are the indicia of service. Forget all 
 about your religious, theological, and ethical specu 
 lations for a while and stick to that idea. God has 
 put into us this vital spark of energy to labor 
 to accomplish. Go to it ! 
 
 "Just as you owe this old college a debt you can 
 never repay in dollars, so you owe society in the 
 larger sense a still greater obligation. Did you ever 
 stop to think of what you owe the men who died in 
 the Rebellion ? To the followers of science who have 
 sacrificed their lives for your physical well-being 
 for, in fact, the very continuance of your life ? Why 
 did they do so ? In response to that instinct within 
 us all call it conscience or what you will that 
 drives us on to struggle for the betterment of the 
 race and incidentally to find in that struggle our 
 own salvation " 
 
 The light had faded from the windows and the 
 fire shone upon the teacher s angular features, giving 
 them a new and striking dignity. He bowed his 
 head for a moment and seemed lost in memory. 
 
 A log in the fireplace snapped and a molten globule 
 of incandescence fell upon the hearth. The collie 
 sighed deeply, yawned, stretched his fore legs and 
 slowly arose. Then he pricked his ears forward 
 and trotted to the door. There was the sound of a 
 latch-key and of light footsteps in the hall 
 
 "Well, father! Dreaming as usual?" asked a 
 cheerful voice. 
 
 Mr. Russell started and looked up. 
 
 " Hello, sis ! You re late, aren t you ? Come in ! " 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 91 
 
 In the doorway stood the girl in blue. The 
 shadows cast by the fire upon her face brought out 
 subtle mysteries of line and curve unrevealed by the 
 afternoon light of the Yard. Her cheeks had flushed 
 rose-red and her eyes, though still laughing, were 
 clouded with a sudden touch of embarrassment. 
 She stood poised upon the threshold, one arm resting 
 against the door and the other clasping her violin- 
 case to her breast. 
 
 "My daughter Mr. Mr. I beg your par 
 don, what did you say your name was!" asked 
 Mr. Russell for the second time. 
 
 Tom had climbed quickly to his feet and stood 
 staring at the vision in the doorway. Shades of 
 the Bacchante, of Diana, of Semiramis, of the 
 Madonna ! It was she ! 
 
 "Kelly!" he blurted out, his muscles atremble, 
 "Tom Kelly." 
 
 The girl smiled and nodded. Then unexpectedly 
 she knitted her brows and gave him a long, quizzi 
 cal, searching look. 
 
 "I m glad to meet you, Mr. Tom Kelly," she said, 
 "but I ve met you before!" 
 
 Her voice was low with a vibrant quality like her 
 father s. 
 
 "You ll never guess where !" 
 
VIII 
 
 "No!" challenged the girl with the violin, with 
 difficulty maintaining her position in the door 
 way against the assaults of the collie, "you Get 
 down, Gerald ! Down, sir ! You don t remem 
 Dad, please call him off! Don t you remember 
 pew-teeth ? " 
 
 "Pew-teeth!" 
 
 Through the dimming firelight, as through the 
 mists of the long-forgotten past, Tom had a glimpse 
 of an elfin, childish face rising unexpectedly to his 
 over the high back of a mahogany pew. 
 
 "Evelyn !" he ejaculated. 
 
 "That s me ! " she laughed. "Only how you ve 
 grown! " 
 
 "What gibberish are you two talking?" inter 
 rupted Russell. " Pew-teeth 7 What on earth are 
 pew-teeth ?" 
 
 Evelyn placed her violin-case on the desk and 
 gave Tom her hand. 
 
 "Don t you remember, dad when you were 
 teaching in the high-school in Boston how we went 
 to St. Agnes s and I used to climb up and hang by 
 my teeth to the top of the pew?" 
 
 "Why, yes ! So you did ! " he replied with a remi 
 niscent laugh. "And you called em pew- teeth !" 
 
 92 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 93 
 
 "So did Mr. Kelly only he wasn t Mr. Kelly 
 then," his daughter continued. "We used to be 
 rivals for head of the class at the primary school, 
 too. We ve known each other ten years and over ! 
 Only I never knew his full name/ she added. "He 
 was just Tom. " 
 
 The tall clock in the hall struck six at that moment. 
 
 "If you expect any supper to-night, dad," she 
 went on, "I ll have to leave you. Eliza s out and 
 it s my evening in the kitchen." 
 
 "Why shouldn t Mr. Kelly stop and take pot-luck 
 with us?" inquired her father. 
 
 "He should, if he s willing to run the risk," an 
 swered Evelyn. "He can have canned soup, canned 
 corned beef, canned baked beans, canned anything 
 almost except canned eggs and bacon. I believe 
 I ve even got a sausage tucked away somewhere." 
 
 "Well, let s go out and have a look !" said Russell. 
 " Come on, and inspect the larder!" 
 
 Evelyn led the way to a spotless pantry con 
 taining a dwarf ice-chest, the door of which Russell 
 threw open with an assumption of voracity. 
 
 "There s that sausage !" he announced. "You re 
 in luck, sir only it s a small one. I generally get 
 away with half a dozen! But what s all this? 
 Chops ! And boiled potatoes, ready for frying ! 
 And why shouldn t I step over to the baker s and 
 bring home a pie?" 
 
 "That s a good little dad !" declared his daughter. 
 "Get a real old-fashioned squash pie for fifteen 
 cents ! Don t let that baker give you a stale one, 
 
94 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 either ! He s equal to it, even if he does go to the 
 Episcopal Church on Brattle Street!" 
 
 In what seemed to Tom an incredibly short space 
 of time he was invited to sit down in the Russell s 
 white-painted dining-room to a meal consisting 
 of soup, scrambled eggs and bacon (including the 
 single sausage laid out in royal state), broiled chops 
 and fried potatoes, toast, salad, pie, crackers, cheese, 
 and coffee. Evelyn hovered between the kitchen 
 and her seat at the head of the table, and they all 
 waited on themselves. 
 
 Tom s acquaintance with women, apart from his 
 early and now almost forgotten experiences with his 
 mother s female relatives, had been small. From 
 time to time he had had amatory passages with 
 various small girls in the summer vacations, which 
 at first had consisted chiefly in showing his interest 
 in them by an excessive roughness of manner and 
 brusqueness of speech. Later on his imagination 
 had fallen a victim to one or two unwholesome, 
 hollow-eyed, sentimental, Bronte-like young ladies, 
 to whom he had not had the audacity to disclose 
 his feelings and whom he speedily forgot. 
 
 That he could meet a wholly natural contemporary 
 of the opposite sex, who combined the beauty of a 
 girl out of a portrait by Lawrence or Romney, with 
 the vivacity, charm, and good sense of the heroine 
 of a novel, seemed incredible. That sort of thing he 
 had supposed was reserved for fellows who lived on 
 Beacon Street or Commonwealth Avenue. It was 
 too good to be real. 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 95 
 
 Tom had never been in any house before per 
 vaded by such an atmosphere of gayety. If only 
 his own home had been like that! If only every 
 home could be like it! Everything was a joke, 
 and somehow whenever Evelyn spoke she seemed 
 to laugh yet without laughing. Tom could hardly 
 keep his eyes from her face. Could this glorious 
 young person be the little elf that had marched 
 with him in the public school? 
 
 "Let me help," urged Tom, when Evelyn at the 
 end of the meal began to pile up the dishes. 
 
 "I m afraid you d break our priceless earthen 
 ware," she retorted. "I paid fifteen dollars for 
 one hundred and twenty pieces !" 
 
 " Let her alone ! " admonished her father. " She ll 
 probably leave them for Eliza to wash up." 
 
 But Evelyn did nothing of the kind and while 
 she washed the dishes in the pantry, Tom and Mr. 
 Russell from where they sat smoking before the 
 library fire could hear her singing. 
 
 "She ll never let anybody else wash up for her," 
 said Tom s host, "and there s nothing she enjoys 
 more than cooking and working with her hands. 
 We all do really if we give ourselves the chance 
 it s the jack-knife instinct in the boy. One reason 
 so many women are discontented these days, in 
 my opinion, is because they are deprived of the 
 feeling of accomplishment! They never do any 
 thing. They read a little, walk a little, and eat 
 and talk a great deal, but they never make any 
 thing the way their grandmothers did. And as 
 
96 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 the creative instinct is the strongest element in our 
 natures they must necessarily feel the lack of some 
 thing in their lives. And this makes them first un 
 happy and then disagreeable, and there are all sorts 
 of domestic difficulties." 
 
 The sound of the knocker at the front door in 
 terrupted what might otherwise have degenerated 
 into a moral discourse. 
 
 "Hello there!" shouted Russell without getting 
 up from where he sat. "Let yourself in! This 
 ain t no grand house !" 
 
 The door opened and Frank True hobbled into 
 the hall and hung up his cap. 
 
 "Good evening, Mr. Russell," he said. "I hope 
 I m not too early !" 
 
 Then, seeing Tom, he held out his hand with a 
 shade of embarrassment. "Why, hello, Kelly!" 
 
 Tom, feeling very much ashamed of himself for 
 his conduct earlier in the afternoon, took the thin 
 hand in a warm, strong grasp. 
 
 "Hello, old man!" he answered. "I acted like 
 a chump this noon hope you ll forgive me. I had 
 a rotten grouch!" 
 
 "That s aU right!" smiled True. "We all get 
 those fits sometimes. And I was really very thought 
 less. Let s forget it. Where s Evelyn?" 
 
 "Here I am!" she answered, appearing in the 
 doorway with her violin. "How are you, Frank? 
 It s fine to have you come over this way. What 
 do you say? Shall we begin our concert right off? 
 Come along to the music-room, Mr. Kelly." 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 97 
 
 They followed her through a door leading out 
 of the dining-room to a trellised passage connected 
 with a small house evidently once used for the 
 storage of wood or as a tool-shed. Like the rest of 
 the establishment it was on a reduced scale, but 
 the floor had been relaid with hard pine, and the 
 walls freshly painted. At one end stood an upright 
 piano and beside it a music-stand, while on the wall 
 were arranged shelves full of music. A few easy 
 chairs and a table with a jar of tobacco gave an 
 air of hospitality to this Temple of Arts. 
 
 "Keep your pipe!" directed Russell. "We can 
 open the window if necessary." 
 
 It was evident that True was on an intimate 
 footing in the house and that both Evelyn and her 
 father were very fond of him, and now as the girl 
 tuned her fiddle and chatted familiarly to the crip 
 pled boy at the piano Tom suddenly experienced a 
 feeling of jealousy. Was it could it be possible 
 that this beautiful creature could be in love with 
 that little shrivelled fellow ? How her eyes sparkled 
 when she talked to him ! And they seemed to have 
 a kind of language of their own a language incom 
 prehensible to him about inversions, chromatics, 
 diminished sevenths, and all sorts of things per 
 taining to this common art, that made him feel 
 more left out than ever. Even the music did not 
 sooth his growing unhappiness. He had found the 
 only girl in the world, simply to lose her again! 
 And to whom? 
 
 Too late ! thought Tom. 
 
98 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 Evelyn and her father came to the door with 
 them. Overhead the sky above the newly budding 
 elms was brilliant with low-hanging stars, scintillat 
 ing in the soft humid air. The subtle mystery of 
 the spring night was all about them. The very 
 earth seemed pregnant with the possibilities of the 
 future. 
 
 "Good night, Frank!" said Russell heartily, as 
 he stood by the picket fence. "Good night, Kelly. 
 Come around as often as you like." 
 
 Evelyn gave each of the boys her hand across 
 the gate. 
 
 "Good-by, Frank! Good-by, Mr. Kelly!" 
 
 The distinction was like a knife in Tom s soul. 
 In silence the two Freshmen walked toward the 
 Yard. 
 
 "Russell s a fine chap !" Tom at length remarked. 
 
 "He s a great gentleman!" responded True, 
 with deep enthusiasm. 
 
 "And Miss Russell" began Tom. 
 
 "Kelly!" cried the cripple fervently, "she s the 
 most wonderful girl in the whole world !" 
 
 Tom bit his lips in the darkness. It was true, 
 then! 
 
 At the entrance of Thayer Hall True paused in 
 dragging his withered leg up the steps. 
 
 "Say, old man!" he said warmly, "do you 
 mind if I call you Tom ? Let s be friends 
 shall we?" 
 
 And he held out his hand. 
 
 "Why sure!" answered our hero, but in the 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 99 
 
 darkness of the shadows cast by the great trees 
 the other could not see his rather bitter smile. It 
 was all part of the same luck. He had been left 
 out again that was all. 
 
IX 
 
 THE influences moulding Tom Kelly s character 
 during the next three years were as varied as in the 
 case of most collegians. At Mr. Russell s sugges 
 tion he took a course or two in ethics and philoso 
 phy, attended the lectures of James and Royce, 
 and if he did not succeed in crystallizing his own 
 ideas on these subjects he at least came to recognize 
 the fact that there was more in the unknown than 
 Peters would have had him believe. At any rate, he 
 steered straight, and escaped many of the incidents 
 of a collegian s career that prove a profound regret in 
 after-life. At the age of twenty-two Tom remained, 
 as he had started, a clean, straightforward fellow 
 of simple and frugal tastes who was trying 
 moderately hard to do well at his studies and who, 
 in spite of the excellent reasoning of Mr. Russell, 
 was wretchedly disappointed at the lack of recogni 
 tion he received from his classmates. There did 
 not seem to be any means available by which he 
 could make new friends. He would now have readily 
 gone more than half-way, but no way presented it 
 self. With the exception of the fellows he occa 
 sionally met in True s room, he revolved round and 
 round like the " Devil among the Tailors," he told 
 
 100 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS REI>I y , ici 
 
 himself in the same old crowd of Holden, Cryder, 
 Ricker, J. Walton-Smith, and Peters. 
 
 More and more except for the Russells his 
 college life seemed but a vain repetition of lectures, 
 examinations, and Sundays in Boston. Unques 
 tionably it was dull. Unquestionably he was not 
 given the chance to make friends among his own 
 classmates offered to-day by the admirable system 
 of Freshman dormitories. Twenty years ago things 
 were different and Tom may have had some cause 
 to complain that the college world was by no means 
 an ideal democracy. Thus for three years he lived 
 largely on the surface-cars between Cambridge 
 and his home in Boston almost as a sort of day- 
 scholar or boarder at the university, the victim of 
 a constant sense of exclusion which caused an 
 abiding resentment in his soul and a touch of grim 
 defiance in his manner toward his associates. And 
 then, by what seemed the merest accident, in the 
 spring of his junior year all was changed and a 
 new world opened before his eyes. 
 
 "For heaven s sake, Irish ! How d you do 
 that?" 
 
 Joe Cryder waved helplessly at a ball which, 
 coming apparently straight from Tom s racket, 
 had, on striking the court, jumped outward and 
 upward at an utterly absurd and impossible angle. 
 "Nobody could get a serve like that!" he yelled 
 in disgust, racing in pursuit of the ball which had 
 rolled half-way across Jarvis field. 
 
102 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 "I don t know exactly," answered Tom. "I 
 just stumbled onto it. It isn t difficult. You hold 
 your racket like that, and serve with a right hand, 
 instead of a left hand, cut. Try it." 
 
 He picked the ball up easily with his racket and 
 tossed it to Cryder. His short-sleeved shirt with 
 rolling collar open at the neck, and his duck trousers 
 belted tight around his waist, displayed to ad 
 vantage the lithe grace of his muscular figure. 
 
 "I couldn t do it to save my neck," protested 
 Cryder. "Do it again, will you?" 
 
 Tom took the ball in his left hand and, tossing 
 it high in air, waited calmly for it to reach a selected 
 spot in its descent, and then delivered a smashing 
 blow, striking it about eighteen inches above his 
 head. A peculiar phenomenon occurred. The ball, 
 instead of pursuing a direct course across the net, 
 shot like a cannon-ball in a swift curve to the left, 
 struck the ground with a terrific impact and bounded 
 at an acute angle in quite the opposite direction, 
 whirring like a partridge and assuming a grotesque 
 egg shape. 
 
 "It is funny, isn t it?" admitted Tom with mod 
 esty. "I only got hold of it by accident. But any 
 body could do it." 
 
 Cryder shook his head. 
 
 "Don t you be a fool, Irish/" he admonished. 
 "You keep that serve to yourself absolutely under 
 your shirt, see? and you ll be able to beat any 
 body you run up against. You know 7 almost got 
 into the class semi-finals last spring and I can t 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 103 
 
 touch that serve at all ! And you can do it every 
 time! Have you entered, yet?" 
 
 "Yes, I put my name down just for fun and to 
 get the practice," said Tom, who had never re 
 garded himself as particularly expert. In the last 
 few weeks, however, he had had as he expressed 
 it a "burst," hitting the ball with such accuracy 
 and speed that men with whom he had played about 
 on a par before, could not now take more than a 
 game or two from him in a set. He had always 
 had a natural "Lawford," and constant practice 
 had given him perfect co-ordination of eye and 
 muscle together with the ability to place any ball 
 he could reach at all, very nearly where he wished 
 to put it in his opponent s court, but he had never 
 expected to become anything more than what he 
 called "a first-class second-class player." A couple 
 of weeks before, however, he had "blown" himself 
 to a new racket of exactly the proper weight and 
 carefully fitted to his hand, and was astonished at 
 his own powers. And then one afternoon he had 
 discovered the "egg serve." 
 
 "Do you really think I ve got a chance?" he 
 asked Cryder as they walked back in the gathering 
 twilight to the Yard. 
 
 "Chance? Why, Irish/ if I had a hundred 
 dollars I d put it on you, in a minute, for class 
 champion. I don t believe Derby, even if he is so 
 quick, could return a single ball. You ll take every 
 service game on aces. You see. Only keep that 
 serve out of sight until the right time. Tell you 
 
104 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 what we can go over to that old dirt court back 
 of Bracebridge Hall and practise, where no one ll 
 see us ! Nobody ever uses it and, when the tourna 
 ment comes off, you can just spring it on em!" 
 
 Tom had a suspicion, which he hardly dared to 
 recognize as a belief, that what Cryder said was 
 true, and every afternoon he and Joe retired to the 
 old dirt court and prepared for the coming contest 
 by serving to each other every conceivable kind of 
 devilish ball under the most awkward of conditions. 
 When the tournament opened Tom found that he 
 had not the slightest difficulty in defeating all his 
 early opponents and reaching the semi-finals in 
 which he drew Joe Cryder as an antagonist. 
 
 A large number of the class had assembled on 
 the benches to watch the finish of the tournament. 
 The day was hot and clear, with no wind, the courts 
 dry. Joe grinned at Tom as they tossed for serve. 
 
 "Watch em sit up," he chuckled, "when you 
 spring the egg on me!" 
 
 Tom ran his eye along the lines of spectators, 
 but saw comparatively few that he recognized. 
 Little Frank True was there with a group of 
 "Woolsack" men, and he nodded to Tom and 
 called out "good luck!" 
 
 Cryder won the toss and took the serve. He had 
 a speedy ball, well under control, but his lobs were 
 apt to be wild and his net work was slow. Tom 
 took the first set six-four without using the 
 "egg." The second set he pushed Cryder harder 
 and let him have only two games, and in the last 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 105 
 
 played his best and took six love games with smash 
 ing cross-courts and line shots. He still "had the 
 egg under his shirt" as he leaped over the net and 
 grabbed Cryder s hand, while the men on the benches 
 clapped and cheered. Tom felt a thrill of genuine 
 excitement. It was the first notice he had received 
 from his fellows, the first time he individually had 
 been brought to their attention. Little Frank True 
 limped up and was the first to congratulate him. 
 
 "Great work, Tom, old man!" he cried. "Hope 
 you re not too tired!" for by agreement the finals 
 were to be played off immediately. 
 
 Derby had won his match easily six-three, six- 
 five, six-three. He was expected to defeat Tom, 
 who was a "dark horse," without difficulty, but he 
 found his new antagonist a surprising opponent. 
 They each played steadily, and took alternate 
 games, until Tom drove his man to the back of 
 the court and held him there helpless thus win 
 ning the set. Derby, astonished at Tom s speed 
 and accuracy, came back with grim determination 
 and by brilliant playing took the next two sets 
 six-four, six-five. The pace, however, was too fast 
 for him, and Tom won the fourth set six-three. 
 Each had now won two sets. The crowd of lookers- 
 on had rapidly increased, for word had gone round 
 that a great match was being "pulled off" and that 
 a new "wonder" had appeared in the shape of a 
 hitherto practically unknown member of the class 
 named Kelly "Irish." Boys who had never heard 
 of him before at once began to refer to him fa- 
 
io6 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 miliarly by this nickname, and yelled from the 
 bleachers : 
 
 "Go it, Irish ! " "Soak it to him, Irish, old 
 boy!" 
 
 A couple of hundred upper classmen sauntered 
 across from the baseball field and a bunch of law- 
 school men, disturbed over their case-books by the 
 cheering and clapping, joined the spectators. 
 
 "Play!" called the umpire, and Tom and Derby 
 stepped out upon the court for the final struggle. 
 The sun was low over the elms on Harvard Street, 
 across the green field came faintly the distant clang 
 of electric cars, and the fresh smell of the moist 
 turf. Tom calmly tightened his belt. He felt lean 
 and hard as a race-horse. He knew he was going 
 to win could win without the "egg," if need be! 
 Youth was singing in his heart. He wanted to 
 laugh, to turn a few handsprings, to shout at the 
 crowds on the benches: "You see, I m not such a 
 lemon after all ! " Such is the resiliency of youth 
 the more you tax it the more it draws upon its eter 
 nal spring. Each time it is downed it gains new vi 
 tality from mother earth. And because he knew he 
 had the match in his hand and wasn t "such a lemon 
 after all," at the very first ball he proceeded to slip 
 on the side-lines and wrench his left arm so that he 
 ground his teeth in anguish. 
 
 Derby took the first game. He was coming back 
 strong fighting for his title. Tom pulled out the 
 second game with a brilliant cannon-ball service, 
 but the pain in his arm caused him to lose the third 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 107 
 
 and fourth. Some of the crowd strolled away think 
 ing that it was all over. Derby now felt assured 
 of victory. He had found himself able to take care 
 of Tom s service, powerful and accurate though it 
 was, and he looked across to the benches and nodded 
 to a group of his friends as if to say: "It s all right, 
 now. Watch me polish him off !" 
 
 It was Tom s serve, and Derby took his stand 
 five feet back of his service line, intending to return 
 with a Lawford down the alley. He saw Tom toss 
 the ball in the air and saw his racket flashing in a 
 queer, unnatural swing. The ball shot at him in a 
 swiftly dropping parabola, veering into the right- 
 hand corner of the court. He stepped back to take 
 it. But the ball, on striking the ground, hummed 
 like a gigantic top and shot high across the court 
 at an opposite angle. Dazed, he walked slowly to 
 the other side. Again Tom s racket swung, again 
 the swift drop and the sideways leap. Twice more 
 it happened. 
 
 "Game love!" called the umpire. "The games 
 are now three- two Derby leads." 
 
 Nobody on the benches knew just what had 
 happened or was happening. They saw the cham 
 pion waving wildly or standing in helpless impo 
 tence while the balls rolled untouched against the 
 back net. So confused was he that he lost his 
 own service, bringing the games to a tie three all. 
 Once more Tom served, and again using the "egg" 
 took a love game. Derby, becoming rattled at his 
 inability to connect at all with the ball, retired to 
 
io8 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 the back of the court, and swiftly lost the two last 
 games still wondering what occult powers Tom 
 possessed. 
 
 "Game match tournament!" shouted the um 
 pire. "Mr. what s his name? wins !" 
 
 "Kelly s the name!" remarked Tom as he shook 
 hands with his shamefaced opponent. 
 
 There was a great burst of applause. Some one 
 shouted: "Three cheers for Irish M" And they 
 were given heartily. The fellows were all about 
 him now, wringing his hand and praising his play; 
 and, in spite of the burning pain in his left arm, he 
 felt the supremest happiness of his life the exal 
 tation of successful physical achievement. Joe 
 Cryder was there helping him into a borrowed polo 
 coat, and in an admiring circle at his elbow stood 
 Holden, Ricker, Peters, and Smith. Then he heard 
 little Frank True saying: 
 
 "Congratulations, old man! Raymond Dwight 
 wants to be introduced. Says he s never met you." 
 
 "I don t mind!" answered the hero of the mo 
 ment, and without a thought turned from the friends 
 about him and sought the Companionship of the 
 Great. 
 
 Ten days later Tom won the college champion 
 ship, by what in after-years he was accustomed to 
 describe as a "trick" the "egg." 
 
X 
 
 IN a softly lighted room, in which a sea-coal fire 
 glowed beneath a mantel supporting a row of an 
 cient pewter mugs and illuminated a choice collec 
 tion of rare old sporting prints upon the walls, a 
 group of young men were lounging in leather chairs, 
 with the easy self-confidence that comes to those 
 who have " arrived" somewhere, at least for the 
 time being. All were carefully dressed and all, 
 with few exceptions, spoke in an abrupt, clipped Bos- 
 tonese, only marred occasionally by the flat "a" 
 of the eastern counties of New England. The at 
 mosphere was one of well-being and good-breed 
 ing, and their attitude toward one another that 
 of studied courtesy, which obviously included over 
 looking each other s failings, moral or otherwise. 
 With a couple of dozen other men they were the 
 social dictators of their college class. They knew 
 that the world, of the university at any rate, was 
 their oyster and it tasted exceedingly good to them. 
 And because they felt themselves responsible for 
 the social tone of their year at Harvard they took 
 themselves seriously and regarded the selection of 
 another to enter their sacred circle as a matter of 
 the highest importance, and worthy of profound 
 consideration. 
 
 109 
 
no THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 It was the autumn following Tom s sensational 
 appearance upon the athletic horizon, and it was 
 none other than he who was the subject of their 
 informal deliberations. 
 
 "Of course, Kelly isn t exactly the type of fellow 
 you d want to invite to spend a week with you in 
 the summer," muttered Howard Catherwood, sotto 
 voce, to one of his intimates named Pennington as 
 he inserted a fresh cigarette into a slender meer 
 schaum holder. "Nobody ever heard of a c Kelly 
 in any club here in Cambridge." 
 
 But his remark was overheard and brought swift 
 retribution. 
 
 "There s Cold-Roast Boston for you!" dis 
 gustedly retorted Allyn Scott, who in appearance 
 was not unlike Tom s erstwhile friend Peters and 
 whose narrow face also showed unmistakable signs 
 of dissipation. "My dear, impeccable young snob, 
 there are plenty of smart people in New York 
 named Kelly, and everybody knows the Kellys of 
 Paris. There have been all sorts of Kellys in clubs 
 out here and elsewhere. You ve only heard of 
 1 Slide, Kelly, Slide ! There are others ! " 
 
 "Well," laughed Dick Crowninshield, the bronzed 
 Hercules who stroked the varsity, "why not be 
 the ones to make the name of Kelly famous? In 
 honoring Kelly, perhaps we shall honor ourselves." 
 
 "I should say Kelly was famous enough already," 
 said Raymond Dwight, a curly-haired Bostonian 
 whose presidency of the class had been foreordained 
 almost as soon as his sex had been definitely as- 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY in 
 
 certained at birth. "A man can t win the university 
 tennis championship, and defeat a half-dozen first- 
 class players without being moderately famous. 
 The cracks say that Kelly is a comer/ and will be 
 the national champion in a few years, if he keeps on." 
 
 "But of course we don t want to take a man just 
 because he s a good athlete," protested Lawrence 
 West, a serious-minded youth from Beacon Street 
 who was an expert on Whistler, and did excellent 
 water-color sketches. "He may be quite impos 
 sible in other ways." 
 
 "Oh, Kelly s all right," announced the fair- 
 minded and generous Dwight. "I d bank on Frank 
 True s opinion every time. He says Kelly s a fine 
 chap. He s rather hard up, but he comes of good 
 people, and he just happened to get in with a rather 
 cheap bunch when he first came here. It s a mis 
 take, in my opinion, to pick fellows for the club 
 that are all just alike. I m for giving him a 
 chance." 
 
 "I don t see any need of our taking any chance," 
 growled Sam Pennington, whose father was a New 
 York banker. "The burden of proof is on him. 
 Just because he can whack a tennis-ball around 
 isn t any reason for taking him into a social club. 
 We re responsible for him as soon as he s one of 
 us. What s the use?" 
 
 Pennington was a notorious "stand-patter," al 
 though this quality in him was otherwise described 
 by his associates, the word not having been in 
 vented at this period. The other boys called him 
 
112 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 "conservative," which, after all, is more polite. 
 Conservative he was, to a degree. His gospel was 
 to "play safe," to put your social "talent" in a 
 basket and there carefully to preserve it. He was 
 short, with a cherubic face, and gave an impression 
 of sleekness " fat and well-liking" to use the bibli 
 cal equivalent, and he believed that if you were 
 well off it paid to let yourself alone. He had rosy 
 cheeks, clear, cold gray eyes, and conveyed an in 
 describable atmosphere of calm opulence. "Knew 
 how to handle himself," his clubmates all said of 
 Pennington, meaning by this that he knew "when 
 to stop." 
 
 "If our friend Sam had originated this blooming 
 institution," drawled Scott, "there d be only one 
 member, wouldn t there, Sammy old horse?" 
 
 Pennington deigned no reply. 
 
 "Take him in, if you want to," he said in an 
 impersonal sort of way, as if, having given such 
 counsel as seemed to him wise, his responsibility 
 were ended. 
 
 "Darn well-built fellow!" put forth Crownin- 
 shield. "Looks like that statue in <U. 5 of the 
 Greek chap throwing a piece of hardtack or what 
 ever it is." 
 
 Lawrence West gave one of his mild rare laughs. 
 
 "Hardtack!" he repeated. "Hardtack! Ha, 
 ha! I suppose you mean the cestus. : 
 
 "I beg your pardon," hastened Crowninshield 
 in mock apology. "Is that what they called it? 
 I always thought it was hardtack " 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 113 
 
 "Oh, shut up, Dick!" interrupted Catherwood. 
 "What s that got to do with this election? That 
 statue isn t named Kelly. And it s not the cestus 
 thrower either it s the discus thrower." 
 
 "Ho ho!" shouted Scott, kicking his legs in 
 the air. "A battle between the giants! What 
 price discus ? What odds on cestus ? " 
 
 "Quit your noise, won t you!" ordered Dwight. 
 "Now we re on the subject who knows anything 
 against Kelly or for him?" 
 
 There was a rapid fire of assault and eulogy. 
 
 "How is his head swelled?" 
 
 "No more than Dick s ! Eh, Dick?" 
 
 "We need some new blood." 
 
 "Then just wait till Kelly lands his egg on 
 your nose!" 
 
 "Appoint a committee to look him over." 
 
 "Wish True were here he d tell us more about 
 him " 
 
 At about this moment True did appear. He 
 was panting from the exertion of limping so fast 
 in his iron brace, and his face was white. In fact 
 the pain in his thigh was well-nigh insupportable. 
 But he smiled through compressed lips at the af 
 fectionate chorus which greeted his appearance. 
 
 "Here s the doctor!" exclaimed Scott. "Now 
 we ll get a first-hand diagnosis. What s the matter 
 with Kelly ?" 
 
 True looked inquiringly around the circle. He 
 could see that all was not well with his candidate. 
 He had come to have a genuine affection for Tom, 
 
H4 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 admiring his honesty and frankness of speech, and 
 enjoying his occasional flashes of humor. He had 
 made repeated, although unsuccessful, attempts 
 during the preceding two years to have Tom taken 
 into the club, but he had persisted in his endeavor 
 with a dogged determination, confident that, if 
 Tom were only known to these men, they would 
 be glad to include him in their circle. He knew 
 that, with a few exceptions, they were at bottom 
 simple and democratic and glad to recognize ability 
 and character, but he knew also their fatal dislike 
 of taking issue with one another, of seeming "to 
 care," of insisting upon their own opinions in a 
 word their moral inertia. He saw at once that 
 the fight would be with Pennington and Cather- 
 wood. 
 
 "We can t afford not to take Kelly," he said with 
 firmness, "because if we don t when we know 
 what a corker he is it would stamp us for a lot 
 of snobs." 
 
 "Hear! Hear!" interjected Scott, whose family 
 were the most arrogant in the New York Social 
 Register. He chuckled to himself at True s astute 
 method of attack. 
 
 "The fact is," went on Tom s sponsor, "that 
 the clubs out here are getting a bad name for just 
 that reason. We do the best we can, of course, but 
 what chance have we got to find out the really fine 
 chaps from out West and down South." 
 
 "Lemons most of em!" remarked Catherwood, 
 again under his breath. 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 115 
 
 "We re three feet wide but only an inch thick/ 
 continued True. "We bore each other stiff often 
 enough talking about the same dances, the same 
 people, the same summer resorts, the same drinks, 
 the same girls. Personally I d like a little relief 
 from Newport and the North Shore. I d like a 
 whiff of Puget Sound or the Gulf of Mexico." 
 
 "What s Kelly a whiff of?" inquired Penning- 
 ton innocently. 
 
 There was a subdued laugh. 
 
 "I ll tell you!" True turned on him. "He s a 
 whiff of the salt air of the old Boston whose citizens 
 threw their tea into the harbor rather than pay 
 English duty! He s the same whiff that George 
 the Third got in his nose in 1775. But he s more 
 than that. He s a bully good chap that s had a 
 hard row to hoe, not so much on account of what 
 he didn t have as what he did have. He was born, 
 as he says, on the wrong side of the street. He s 
 come from behind, but he s jumped to the front, 
 and he s going to be the greatest tennis player this 
 country ever produced. Why, if we didn t take 
 him in, they d say it was because his name was 
 Kelly !" 
 
 "That s right!" cried out half a dozen of his 
 auditors. " They would, too !" 
 
 "Bully for Frank!" exclaimed Scott. "What 
 have you got to say, Pennington?" 
 
 The latter shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "They might say that," he answered quietly. 
 "I ve no objection to taking him in, if " 
 
n6 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 Suddenly True, who had been clinging rigid to 
 the arms of his chair, fell heavily backward. 
 
 "By God! Water!" cried Dwight. "Frank s 
 fainted. Send for old Doc. Wheeler !" 
 
 They loosened True s collar and wheeled him 
 to the window, but it was several minutes before 
 he opened his eyes. When Dr. Wheeler finally ar 
 rived he placed the lad in his buggy and drove 
 him over to the dormitory, where Dwight and 
 Crowninshield carried him up-stairs and laid him 
 in bed. 
 
 "I m coming round to-morrow to give you a 
 talking to, young man!" he said severely, before 
 leaving. "And you must promise to lie right here 
 until I come. You fellows look after him. I shall 
 hold you responsible." 
 
 The two big men sat awkwardly by the bedside 
 for a long time while True lay there with closed 
 eyes apparently asleep. Suddenly he said in a 
 whisper: "Did Tom get in?" 
 
 "That s all right, Frankie, old man!" answered 
 Crowninshield cheerfully. "He s as good as in. 
 If that little saphead of a Sam makes any trouble 
 I ll take him out and stick him under the pump." 
 
 "Don t worry," added Dwight. "Kelly s got to 
 get in ! That s all there is to it !" 
 
 So Kelly "got in" at last. 
 
XI 
 
 ONE evening, about ten days later, Tom was 
 sitting alone in his jaundice-colored room grinding 
 for his first-hour examination in economics. For a 
 week or so after winning the college championship 
 the previous spring he had lived in a rose-colored 
 world and then, as nothing further had happened, 
 he had relapsed into his erstwhile disgruntled state. 
 After such a dazzling experience it had been un 
 speakably dull for him to be obliged to join his 
 mother on her annual junket to the White Moun 
 tains, and that year the boarding-houses had seemed 
 even more dreary than usual. 
 
 With a relief that was almost a joy he returned 
 to Cambridge to find, apparently, nothing changed. 
 His success had made no difference. He was now 
 a prominent figure in college athletics and yet there 
 was not an additional door open to him. Of course, 
 Mr. Russell and Evelyn had shown pleasure at his 
 achievements, but his mother had felt it her duty 
 to conceal any satisfaction which she may have 
 felt, and had merely expressed the hope that it 
 wouldn t turn his head ! 
 
 Poor Tom, struggling hard to fight out his college 
 course on the line Fate had selected for him, found 
 
 117 
 
n8 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 his championship dust in his mouth. He had had 
 a vision of clouds of glory, and then the gray mists 
 had drifted in again. He kicked viciously against 
 the pricks of his dun-colored existence, and he 
 kicked in vain. He had his place and there he must 
 stay. So in a bitterly rebellious spirit he worked 
 on to what end he knew not. He was in a partic 
 ularly recalcitrant frame of mind that night, and 
 was on the point of chucking the whole thing in 
 favor of a lonely trip to a musical show in Boston, 
 when True tapped on his door. There was a queer 
 look on his pale face. 
 
 "Some of the fellows want to see you over at 
 the Woolsack !" he said in a careless way. 
 
 Tom gazed sourly at him from under his green 
 eye-shade. 
 
 "Me? What for? I don t- 
 
 And then something in Frank s eyes set his heart 
 athump. 
 
 "What do you mean?" he choked. He wouldn t 
 be made a fool of again. 
 
 "Would you care to become a member?" 
 
 "You re not joking, Frank?" 
 
 "Why, of course not! I couldn t." 
 
 Tom got up and turned quickly to the window. 
 So it had come at last! The "Woolsack"! One 
 of the best of the clubs. 
 
 "Oh, Frank!" he said, trying to hide the quiver 
 ing of his lips. "It s all you! I know it! You 
 don t realize what this means to me ! I ve been so 
 lonely. Of course Harvard s a wonderful place, 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 119 
 
 but it s so infernally big I ve been lost in it, up 
 to now!" 
 
 When Tom told his mother of his election to 
 the "Woolsack" Mrs. Kelly was seriously upset. 
 She had always heard of those college clubs as hor 
 rible places where the students did nothing but 
 drink and play cards "traps of Satan." 
 
 "Oh, Tom," she whispered in a terrified voice, 
 "don t let them persuade you to drink. I don t 
 mind smoking nearly so much, but do promise me 
 not to drink!" 
 
 "Can t you trust me to behave like a gentleman, 
 mother," blustered Tom disingenuously. He was 
 in a state of almost hysterical excitement, had made 
 up his mind already to do whatever the other fellows 
 did ! " Can t you trust me, now ? If not, how can 
 you ever trust me!" 
 
 She looked narrowly at him, her woman s in 
 stinct grasping the situation with unerring ac 
 curacy. 
 
 "Tom!" she said, in a desperate tone, "if you 
 drank, it would break my heart !" 
 
 He did not reply and she turned quite cold. His 
 next words frightened her even more. 
 
 "Could you manage to let me have a little 
 money, mother?" 
 
 It was the first time he had ever asked for it. 
 She knew that he appreciated the sacrifices she 
 had made was still making to send him to col 
 lege. Yet he was her only son ! And secretly she 
 
120 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 was supremely gratified by this recognition of his 
 classmates. 
 
 "If you really need it," she answered, relieved 
 herself that their conversation no longer hinged 
 upon the depressing subject of drink. "I ve got 
 that five hundred dollars I saved up for a rainy day 
 when you were at school." 
 
 "I don t need anything like that," he replied. 
 "A couple of hundred, maybe. There s the dues 
 and, you know, mother, I ought to get some new 
 clothes." 
 
 " Clothes ! " she cried sharply. " What s the mat 
 ter with the clothes you ve got on? Your father 
 wore that blue coat of his fourteen years, and there 
 wasn t a moth hole in it when he died. I should 
 think you could get along as you are." 
 
 "Of course, I can t let em be ashamed of me." 
 
 "Ashamed of you, Tom. I guess they re mighty 
 glad to get you to join." 
 
 He smiled to himself. 
 
 "And I ve got to keep up my end." 
 
 "Not one cent will I give you for pleasure!" 
 she insisted resentfully. "You can take my last 
 cent for books I want you to have every advan 
 tage ! But nothing will I give you for for cards 
 or tobacco or liquor ! Oh, Tom ! You wouldn t 
 take the money in the bank for that!" she asked 
 in despair. 
 
 " No, mother," he answered a little guiltily. "But 
 I must have some money." And then to change the 
 subject and make her feel that by virtue of what 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 121 
 
 had happened life would be different for her as well, 
 he added much as one would picture a coming 
 pleasure to a child: "And, mother! I want you to 
 meet the fellows ! I m going to bring some of them 
 in here right away to see you to supper, maybe !" 
 
 "Oh!" she uttered aghast. "Oh, I couldn t 
 have them. There d be nothing fit for them to eat ! 
 And they d tell their mothers about it. There s 
 Mrs. D wight, for instance; she s in the Ladies 
 Auxiliary. I d never dare look her in the face 
 again if her son came in here to supper and got 
 only ham!" 
 
 "I ve no doubt Bridget could get up a very nice 
 supper," replied Tom somewhat doubtfully. 
 
 He had not really intended to bring anybody to 
 supper. It had simply seemed a natural sort of 
 thing to say, and so he had said it. Now he per 
 ceived that it would involve social awkwardnesses. 
 The fellows would come, to be sure, and be more 
 than polite; but he could imagine Pennington and 
 Catherwood if his mother said "You was" or "I 
 should have thought you would have," and dis 
 played as she certainly would her ignorance of social 
 conventions. And he was almost sure that they 
 didn t have any finger-bowls! No, it wouldn t do 
 at all. Yet at the same time he knew perfectly 
 well that nothing in the course of human events 
 could possibly give his mother such satisfaction as 
 to have the son of Mrs. Hamilton Dwight Mrs. 
 D wight of Commonwealth Avenoo, that is take 
 a meal at her house. Such a social triumph would 
 
122 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 have painted her drab existence with prismatic 
 colors, and would have sufficed her as a topic of 
 conversation forever afterward. 
 
 All this Tom knew very well, but he just couldn t 
 do it. And he must get the idea out of her head ! 
 He of course realized that what she had said was 
 not meant to be taken seriously. It was merely a 
 polite protest to be as politely overruled. All she 
 needed and expected was a little urging, and 
 then she would yield gracefully, for both of them 
 were fully aware that Bridget could serve a very 
 excellent "high tea" indeed scalloped oysters, 
 lobster salad, orange layer-cake, chocolate, just as 
 good exactly as you d get at "The Women s Ex 
 change." 
 
 "No," she repeated, but looking hopefully at 
 Tom s suddenly glum face, "I d never dare! And 
 then Mrs. West, too, over on Beacon Street. I 
 pass her quite often. I might have to bow to her." 
 
 Already she had had a pathetic vision a mirage, 
 alas ! of a gushing, if tiny spring, in the social Sahara 
 of her existence, and her timid spirit fluttered in 
 delicious perturbation. All Tom would have had 
 to say to overcome her resistance would have been, 
 " Oh, nonsense, mother ! Give em anything you ve 
 got!" which, coupled with one of his accustomed 
 hugs and a hearty kiss, would have swept away all 
 her defenses, leaving only a faint little final "Oh, 
 Tom! Do you really think we could?" And she 
 would have hurried away to order the supper at 
 once, and maybe have gone over to Fanny Trollop s 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 123 
 
 to see if she still had that celebrated recipe belong 
 ing to her Aunt Hemenway for tipsy pudding. 
 But his response to her protest in the present in 
 stance was half-hearted. 
 
 "I suppose she could serve a good-enough supper/ 
 he repeated. "But, of course, if you would feel 
 awkward or embarrassed about it, there s no need 
 of having them. On the whole, I guess you re 
 right." 
 
 He could see the expectant look in his mother s 
 eyes give way to one of disappointment, and for 
 a moment he almost felt like reconsidering. No, 
 it was too much to expect. She would surely 
 " queer" him with her talk about Uncle Ezra and 
 Aunt Eliza. She might even mention "punkin 
 seeds" ! But Mrs. Kelly had not given up all hope 
 even yet. Tom had acted at first as if he had really 
 meant it and perhaps 
 
 "The rector said Bridget s scalloped oysters were 
 the best he d ever et!" she hazarded timidly. 
 
 "Oh, those fellows have oysters all the time!" 
 he protested. "And they re used to having dinner 
 at night." 
 
 "Dinner at night!" gasped Mrs. Kelly, bewil 
 dered. 
 
 "And when they go out to be entertained," he 
 added unthinkingly, "they usually expect some 
 sort of of beverage." 
 
 His mother s face hardened. 
 
 "They ll never come to my house if they expect 
 that!" she replied defiantly. 
 
XII 
 
 TOM found the " Woolsack" a very agreeable 
 place. He had always imagined that there was 
 something mysterious about college social organi 
 zations, and that their meetings were given over 
 to strange rites and alcoholic revelry, but he soon 
 discovered that this was a mistake. The club was 
 only a common meeting-ground, where the men 
 loafed, read, played cards, and ordered such drinks 
 as they chose. And the men themselves were as 
 different from each other as the members of his 
 own old circle. Indeed, in the main, he found among 
 his new friends precisely the same types. Save 
 for the fact that they were less assertive, spent 
 more money, and had a larger knowledge of the 
 world, Dick Crowninshield might have been Jo 
 Cryder, Allyn Scott might have been Andy Peters, 
 and either Pennington or Catherwood might have 
 been J. Walton-Smith. 
 
 Most of them were quiet, rather reserved young 
 fellows who had come from decent homes, and 
 whose chief interest in life was athletics. As a 
 whole, they were no more intellectual than his former 
 friends, but he heard less cheap and dirty talk and 
 the "Smart Alec" was conspicuous by his absence. 
 There were no "freaks" among them and no ge- 
 
 124 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 125 
 
 niuses. They were satisfied with their college, their 
 class, their club, and themselves, and seemed to feel 
 that, so far as was immediately necessary, they had 
 solved the problem of existence. There was no 
 general conversation except regarding sport, the 
 theatre, social doings in Boston, and the needless 
 obstacles contrived by the dean and faculty to 
 prevent their passing their examinations without 
 mental labor. Their tone as to honesty, cleanliness 
 in speech, generosity and consideration for others 
 was high; as to personal conduct it was fairly easy 
 going. So long as a man acted like a gentleman 
 with his comrades, they did not particularly con 
 cern themselves as to his habits. It was none of 
 their business and it was "bad form" to be curious. 
 It was "bad form" to get drunk, but curiously 
 enough it was not bad form for particular men to 
 get drunk. The "Woolsack" and some of the other 
 clubs contained certain privileged characters who 
 were regarded, with tolerance and even apparent 
 pride, as "funny drunks." They were allowed to 
 do as they liked so long as they remained amusing. 
 And there were certain ones who led mysterious 
 existences and were held in a kind of awe by the 
 other men. These were generally fellows of the 
 millionaire class, who had large personal incomes 
 and lived lives of their own in which poker, cham 
 pagne, and chorus girls were supposed to figure 
 prominently. They were few in number. Almost 
 every club had one of them and they ran together. 
 There were, by antithesis to these, men of very 
 
126 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 small means like Tom sons of professors and 
 even of clergymen, and rich fellows who, never 
 theless, took life seriously and were almost as much 
 "grinds" as Ricker. To his great surprise Tom 
 found that two of the members of the " Woolsack" 
 were Phi Beta Kappa men, and that another held 
 a John Harvard scholarship. 
 
 It comes to few college undergraduates to suffer 
 for three long years from a bitter, if unjustified, 
 sense of ostracism and then suddenly to be ac 
 claimed as worthy of the highest social honors, of 
 intimacy with the most popular and distinguished 
 members of the class. When this does happen it 
 is rarely the result of any particular achievement, 
 athletic or otherwise, on the part of the individual, 
 but is rather more often due to the efforts often un 
 suspected, of some friend. Thus, while the social 
 recognition which he finally secured, including his 
 election to the "Woolsack," was due primarily and 
 directly to the merest chance his fortuitous suc 
 cess at tennis nevertheless without Frank True s 
 persistent knocking at the door of friendship on his 
 behalf, it would probably never have been opened 
 to Tom. 
 
 When social success of this sort does come at 
 the end of a man s college course it is far more likely 
 to end disastrously than if it comes of its own accord 
 in the natural course of events. Poor Tom, starved 
 for want of real companionship, firmly believing 
 that he had a well-founded grudge against existence, 
 and bitterly resentful at being deprived of those 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 127 
 
 pleasures that he assumed were the common right 
 of all young fellows of his age, found himself un 
 expectedly received as an intimate friend and equal 
 by the very men toward whom he had harbored 
 these feelings of resentment and antagonism. The 
 result was, as is frequently the case, that he was 
 knocked completely off his balance, and for a time 
 was the victim of a state of almost hysterical ex 
 citement. His ego filled his cosmos. From the 
 hell of solitude he had been lifted into the heaven 
 of companionship. From regarding himself as an 
 ugly duckling he came to view himself as a swan. 
 He reasoned, and not unnaturally, that he must 
 possess unusual qualities both physical and mental, 
 unsuspected by himself, which differentiated him 
 from the common herd with whom he had formerly 
 been thrown. And yet, through some subtle in 
 stinct, or thanks to a lingering trace of common 
 sense, he was astute enough to keep himself in the 
 background and to endeavor so to conduct himself 
 that his new friends should not regret their action. 
 Now that he occupied one of the seats of the 
 mighty, he took pleasure in trying to justify the 
 very exclusiveness of which he had formerly been 
 the victim, the very social system which he had 
 hitherto looked upon so resentfully as unfair and 
 undemocratic. Yet, to his surprise, he discovered 
 that, with the exception of one or two men such 
 as Catherwood and Pennington, none of his new 
 friends took the slightest satisfaction in the .fact 
 that they were thus artificially marked out and 
 
128 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 separated from their fellows as members of a select 
 club. There was nothing snobbish in their attitude 
 at all. They liked to have a handy place where 
 they and their intimate friends could meet, and 
 this the " Woolsack" provided for them, just as 
 the other clubs, the "Cave Dwellers" for instance, 
 did for their members. But the mere fact that 
 other men were not in the club, while they were, 
 meant nothing to them. Strangely enough, while 
 Scott and other men in the club seemed to feel that 
 social conditions in college were not all that they 
 should be and that the system might perhaps be 
 improved, Tom championed it as the natural out 
 come of conditions over which no control could be 
 exercised. Since the system had selected him, by 
 that same token it must be all right. 
 
 As the months went on Tom found the society 
 of his former companions less and less attractive. 
 At first he continued to take his meals at the old 
 table in Memorial Hall, but the fellows there were 
 strangely cool. There was almost an atmosphere 
 of hostility. Plainly they resented his being trans 
 lated to a higher social atmosphere. Gradually 
 they ceased entirely dropping into his room all 
 except J. Walton-Smith, who showered Tom with 
 attentions, to the latter s great annoyance, and 
 made a point of coming over every day after lunch 
 to smoke a couple of pipes. In the end Tom re 
 signed from Memorial and joined an eating club 
 in Mt. Auburn Street to which West, Dwight, 
 Scott, and others of his own club belonged, and 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 129 
 
 which also numbered many men from other socie 
 ties. He got on well with all of them, but he found 
 the "Woolsack" so attractive that he sadly neg 
 lected his work, and his expenses began to multiply. 
 There was a good deal of poker played and Tom 
 having learned the game could not resist the lure 
 of the chips. At first he won "beginner s luck"; 
 then lost, and had to ask his mother for more money. 
 Moreover his friendship with Scott and his desire 
 to be a "good fellow" led him gradually into the 
 use of alcohol. At first limiting himself to a cock 
 tail before dinner, he soon yielded to the temptation 
 to share the artificial gayety induced by whiskey. 
 By the "mid years," he was drinking steadily. 
 When his conscience reproached him he told him 
 self fiercely that he was entitled to make up for 
 the barrenness of his childhood and the misery of 
 his first years in college, and that he ought to seize 
 the opportunities offered by the "Woolsack" to 
 cement friendship that in after-life might prove 
 valuable. And because on a Saturday afternoon 
 his breath often smelled of whiskey, he frequently 
 gave up going home at all and spent the evening at 
 the theatre with Scott and the next day snoozing 
 before the fire at the club. 
 
 The talk he heard going on around him of the 
 smart balls given in Boston and Brookline filled 
 him with a desire to enlarge his outside social ac 
 quaintance. It would pay in the end. These years 
 in college were a fellow s one great chance. Next 
 year he might be slaving in an office. So he ordered 
 
130 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 a new dress-suit costing a hundred dollars and ar 
 ranged, through West, to have his name put on 
 the list for the Assemblies. For the first time he 
 drank of the joy of feminine adulation. Every 
 pretty girl to whom he was introduced seemed to 
 have heard about him; knew of his wonderful 
 tennis-playing and his wizard serve, and was shyly 
 eager to know him better. Poor Tom, intoxicated 
 as many another boy has been by the admiring 
 eyes of debutantes, lost his young head and for the 
 time believed himself a conquering social hero. He 
 abandoned his studies, spending night after night 
 at dancing-parties in Boston and its suburbs. The 
 house on Appian Way knew him rarely. He saw 
 less and less of Frank True and, strangely enough, 
 more and more of Catherwood and Pennington, who 
 even found some social capital for themselves in 
 his acquaintance. 
 
 He flunked two courses in the mid years, lost 
 two hundred dollars at poker and another hundred 
 trying to get it back, and drank more and more. 
 He also became a confirmed smoker of cigarettes. 
 By March he was in bad physical shape. "Facile 
 est descensus!" Once started downward no one 
 ever "descended" with more "facility" than poor 
 Tom. He dared not go home. Could not bring 
 himself to visit his little old mother patiently wait 
 ing for him in the shabby house on Newbury Street, 
 whither an electric surface-car would have carried 
 him in less than half an hour. 
 
 Thus a woman, retiring to the point of self-ef- 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 131 
 
 facement, distrustful of even her own ability to 
 express her ideas grammatically, fearful of her own 
 social shadow, and timidly shrinking from every 
 contact with the world, was able to inspire actual 
 moral terror by reason of her unfaltering, if primi 
 tive, belief in the duty imposed upon her toward 
 her offspring by the Almighty. An interview with 
 her was to be avoided at all costs. For, as she would 
 have expressed it, God would have given her strength 
 to make her son realize his sin. None are so terrible 
 as the meek in righteous indignation. So Tom 
 stayed away and his mother waited in silence, while 
 he dropped postal cards to her at rare intervals, 
 and tried to dim the vision of her in a constant suc 
 cession of frivolities. 
 
 Seven weeks having elapsed since he had seen 
 her, a determined knock brought him to his door 
 one evening expecting to find Scott or Pennington 
 outside on their way for an evening s fun in Boston. 
 At first he did not recognize the tall strange figure 
 standing there in the antique bonnet and cameFs- 
 hair shawl. 
 
 "It s me, Tom," answered the mellow, vibrant 
 voice of Bridget the cook. 
 
 "Bridget! What on earth are you doing out 
 here?" cried Tom in astonishment. Then his heart 
 ceased beating for an instant and he felt almost 
 faint with a sudden fear. "There isn t any bad 
 news is there?" he gasped. His poor old mother 
 might be dead for all he knew. 
 
132 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 "No, there s no bad news," answered Bridget. 
 
 "Will will you come in?" he asked perfunc 
 torily. 
 
 "Thank ye kindly," said Bridget. "No, I must 
 be on my way. I was just after comin back from 
 a visit to me Cousin Annie, at Arlington an I 
 thought I d stop and ask about the wash, now yez 
 hav given up bringin it home." 
 
 "The wash is all right!" said Tom. "There s 
 a Chinaman over in the Square;- he comes for it." 
 
 "The dirty haythen ! Don t give it to him, Tom, 
 and him a-squirtin the water on it out of his filthy 
 mouth ! Bring it home to me, Tom. And save 
 your money !" 
 
 "The Chink is all right!" 
 
 He was torn between resentment at her coming 
 and shame at seeing her. Her "Cousin Annie" 
 and "the wash" were the most obvious prevarica 
 tions. He felt her presence as a biting reproach 
 and he wanted to get rid of her as speedily as pos 
 sible. What would the fellows think if they should 
 see her there and hear her address him as "Tom"? 
 They might even conclude not unnaturally that 
 she was an aunt or something. The thought had 
 its reflexes in his muscles, and, as if by accident, he 
 allowed the door to close a little. The gaunt old 
 face gazed at him sadly across the threshold. Had 
 he known it, her old heart yearned for his welfare 
 almost as much as did his mother s, but he saw in 
 her austere features only those of a Nemesis. 
 
 " Tis a grand room yez have, Tom!" she said 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 133 
 
 without moving her eyes from his. "Almost as 
 fine as the library at home. I mind the time your 
 father bought all the furniture the green-covered 
 table and all ! It seems only a week agone ! And 
 yer mither a lovely young lady ! Her hair s white 
 now, Tom. Yis, tis a grand room yez have ! That 
 was thirty years gone by ! And I was a young girl 
 meself , though ye may not believe it ! I mind the 
 very day ye was born, Tom, and Dr. Tucker 
 asking for the scales, and yer poor father locking 
 himself out of doors God rest his soul! I ve 
 seen ye grow up, Tom, and no one so well as I knows 
 all yer mither has done for ye. Not that yez have 
 been aught but a good boy! I knew ye love yer 
 mither. But life is life. And sometimes tis sorrow 
 ful, and sometimes tis happy thanks to the Blessed 
 Virgin! But never did any mither care for her 
 gossoon like yours, Tom, and many s the time I ve 
 helped put the ile on yer small back and rubbed 
 yer feet wid the alcohol. And now she s an old 
 woman, and her eyes are dim wid watchin out of 
 the window fer yez to come home, and her hearin s 
 a bit bad for strainin to hear the sound of yer voice, 
 and her forehead has the wrinkles on it fer worryin 
 fer fear all may not be well wid ye. Tis a dear, 
 little mither yez have, Tom. Some day ye ll not 
 have her. She and I will both be gone before long. 
 I m payin my own debt now to her, Tom. Twill 
 be too late then to pay yours." 
 
 What response Tom might have made to this 
 appeal cannot be told, for at that instant a step 
 
134 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 sounded on the gravel outside and Pennington 
 sprang into the hall. 
 
 "Ah there, Tom!" he cried heartily, stepping 
 quickly in front of Bridget as if she were totally in 
 visible. "I ve got two seats for Lulu Glaser in The 
 Lion Tamer. They were turned in at the agency 
 at the last moment and Davie at the club snapped 
 em right up for me. Come along ! Don t waste any 
 time either ! It s a great show. Bobo French has 
 been sixteen times ! " 
 
 Bridget s appeal had really moved Tom s heart, 
 but, instinctively tactful as it had been, he still 
 felt that she had had no business to interfere- 
 especially to come out there to Cambridge to see 
 him. Should he comply with her tacit request to 
 come home it would be a direct acknowledgment of 
 the propriety of her conduct. He now actually 
 wanted to go home, but he wanted also to go to 
 the theatre with Pennington, who was becoming 
 more and more friendly. He hastily decided that 
 he would go in the next morning and surprise his 
 mother by joining her at church. That would 
 be just as good. It would make up for every 
 thing, and, besides, his mother could not talk to 
 him during the service. It would break the ice 
 splendidly. 
 
 "Sure, I ll come," he said to Pennington. "I ll 
 only be a minute !" 
 
 His friend was lighting a cigarette over the lamp 
 and Tom made signs to Bridget that he wished her 
 to leave him. She remained mute, but her lips 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 135 
 
 moved in a final silent appeal. He shook his head 
 sternly at her. 
 
 "Good night," he said coldly. "Thank you for 
 coming out. I ll be in before long, and bring the 
 wash myself." 
 
 A deep flush spread itself over Bridget s dig 
 nified features. She drew herself up proudly and 
 turned away without a word. 
 
 "Who s that old party?" inquired Pennington. 
 
 "Servant from home about the wash," an 
 swered Tom. "Damn nuisance, too. Imagine her 
 coming at this hour !" 
 
 Yet the vision of his mother as conjured up by 
 Bridget remained with him for a long time, for 
 Tom did not go to church next day. 
 
XIII 
 
 TOM S demoralization progressed with such ra 
 pidity that it soon became evident to his clubmates 
 that unless he called a halt he could expect neither 
 to graduate with his class nor to hold his title as 
 tennis champion. True, deeply grieved at his in 
 difference and general conduct, had long since 
 given up any attempt to influence him, but now 
 Dwight, the president of the class, realizing that 
 something must be done, took him in hand. Catch 
 ing the new member at an unguarded moment, he 
 gave him to understand that his associates were 
 by no means pleased at the apparent effect of his 
 election upon his character. It made it seem, he 
 told Tom, as if the club s influence were a bad one. 
 But most of all Tom owed it to himself and to his 
 mother to pull himself together and finish his col 
 lege course with what credit he could. 
 
 Deeply chagrined, Tom took his medicine with 
 meekness, forswore all dances and drinking, and 
 by heroic exertions managed both to retain his 
 title and take his degree. He had, at last, renewed 
 his practice of going home on Sundays, and for a 
 time he seemed to his mother more like his old self 
 the rather shabby but virile self that she loved 
 but once the examinations were over and he had 
 
 136 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 137 
 
 successfully escaped the yawning jaws of failure, 
 the longing for something different came upon him 
 again. After all, he had had, he assured himself, 
 little enough pleasure in college. He had made 
 The "Woolsack" too late for it to do him any par 
 ticular good. What he had read of the great world 
 outside of New York and Newport filled him 
 with a keen desire to see it for himself, taste of its 
 pleasures and perhaps of its victories. Was he not 
 the champion tennis-player of the university? He 
 must go to Newport to enter the lists for the na 
 tional title. Even if he did not win, he would at 
 least see Newport. Who could tell what might 
 be in store for him? So when Allyn Scott sug 
 gested casually that he had better come to them 
 for a month in the middle of the summer and get 
 "acclimated" for the national tournament, Torn 
 accepted the invitation with alacrity and without 
 consulting his mother. She, poor lady, was nearing 
 the Valley of the Shadows. But she only entered 
 a feeble protest to Tom s declaration that he in 
 tended to spend a month or so at Newport. 
 
 "But you don t expect me to go there, do you?" 
 she asked timidly. 
 
 "Oh, no, of course not!" he answered. "You 
 wouldn t want to be staying at a boarding-house 
 in a place where I was visiting." 
 
 His unexpressed idea none the less patent to 
 her was that it would be embarrassing for him 
 to have her there might involve introductions or 
 other complications; it would be much better for 
 
138 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 her to go to East Bethlehem, or some one of those 
 places, where he could join her later on in the 
 summer, the early part of which he intended to 
 spend at Cambridge in a rigorous preparatory 
 course of physical training. Unseen by her son 
 the old lady s eyes filled with tears. She was proud 
 of Tom s tennis-playing, and she had hoped that 
 he would express the wish to have her present in 
 Newport at the tournament. But he advanced 
 no suggestion of the kind. His mind was already 
 glamoured of the unknown. So Mrs. Kelly made 
 her modest preparations to spend the summer by 
 herself. It was significant that for the first time 
 in the history of their relations Bridget offered to 
 accompany her in the capacity of maid, but the 
 offer was refused. With a pang in the heart Mrs. 
 Kelly recognized the fact that her influence over 
 Tom was gone that he was drifting away from 
 her. 
 
 Class day came with its flowers, its swarms of 
 little girls and their mammas, its lemonade, its 
 salad, and its diluted punch. Across the Yard, be 
 tween the trees, hung row on row of Chinese lan 
 terns. Seniors in cap and gown hurried ostenta 
 tiously from building to building, or escorted nervous 
 damsels, with elaborate courtesy, to the various 
 exercises. The sedate old college, at all other seasons 
 the quintessence of conservatism, to-day exhibited 
 a shocking degree of frivolity. There were white 
 dresses everywhere with blue, red, green, and 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 139 
 
 pink sashes that hit the onlooker violently between 
 the eyes. The elmed arcades " where the good and 
 the great in their glorious prime" had "musingly 
 trod," presented an appearance about as dignified 
 and an atmosphere of culture nearly as rare as a 
 country circus. Perspiring negroes carrying huge 
 "cans" of ice-cream staggered hither and thither. 
 Strange processions of country cousins meandered 
 down the paths or across the grass, convoyed by 
 self-conscious seniors. Young gentlemen who for 
 four years had been assumed to be connected with 
 only the choicest of Beacon Street families, and 
 whose raiment and diction had indicated that be 
 yond peradventure they were of the Brahmin caste, 
 suddenly appeared in the company of the most 
 peculiar-looking relations. In fact the "show 
 down" had come. No longer could pretense avail. 
 In a word, one had to stand or fall by one s rela 
 tives. 
 
 At the "Woolsack," as at all other self-respect 
 ing clubs, a cold feast or "spread" (as it is still 
 called) had been prepared, to which the graduating 
 members bade whom they wished Mr. Russell and 
 Evelyn were there, and Mrs. Kelly. It was the 
 sole occasion upon which Tom s mother, profiting 
 by her son s elevation in the world, had made her 
 appearance among his new friends, and she came 
 with the utmost reluctance, apprehensive lest she 
 might do or say something which would militate 
 to his disadvantage. But Tom and Frank True 
 between them managed to make her feel a little 
 
140 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 at home, and after taking her to the "Tree," where 
 half-clad giants battled for flowers, and to the club 
 house, where she partook of tea, ice-cream, and 
 salad, surrounded by the elite of Boston society, 
 they placed her on a car bound for Boston, her cup 
 of happiness, for the time being at least, filled to 
 overflowing. 
 
 Under the circumstances it is hardly surprising 
 that Tom s youthful fancies lightly turned to those 
 thoughts commonly supposed to be induced by 
 spring. During his recent social career he had, 
 indulged in several trifling flirtations with Back 
 Bay debutantes, and he had gained a confidence 
 which he had lacked earlier in his college course. 
 To-day the sight of Evelyn had revived in him 
 all those emotions which he had felt on first meet 
 ing her in the Yard. Truly, she was a slender, 
 dark-eyed goddess a Diana or a Hebe compared 
 with those other giggling little girls. Hitherto he 
 had assumed that she had already given her affec 
 tions to Frank True, yet unconsciously he had all 
 the while cherished a faint hope that he might prove 
 wrong. Three years had passed since he had first 
 enshrined her in his heart, and while perhaps the 
 fire upon the altar lacked something of the inten 
 sity of the first fierce blaze into which it had burst 
 upon the unexpected renewal of their childhood s 
 acquaintance, it burned none the less steadily. 
 Evelyn herself, however, had shown no inclination 
 to encourage sentiment. Wisely she had eschewed 
 the personal note, while Tom had recognized that 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 141 
 
 marriage, so far as he was concerned, was abso 
 lutely out of the question. In deference to his 
 mother s wishes, he had intended to follow in his 
 father s footsteps and become a member of the 
 bar. Should this purpose be carried out it would 
 mean three more years at the Harvard Law School 
 and an apprenticeship of from three to five years 
 in a law office in Boston before he could hope to 
 support a wife in anything much better than a 
 polite poverty. He certainly had no reasonable 
 expectation of being able within a period of less 
 than ten years to offer Evelyn home comforts such 
 as she then enjoyed. 
 
 Thus his attitude toward Evelyn perforce be 
 came more that of a friend than of a lover which 
 was probably, in any event, all she would have 
 permitted it to be. 
 
 But, now, on this his Class Day his heart s hope 
 revived. After all he had no definite reason to be 
 lieve that she was engaged to Frank. To be sure, 
 the latter was always at the Russell s house, but 
 for that matter, so was he. And after all Frank 
 was nothing but a cripple, charming fellow as he 
 was. Moreover, he himself was a far more desir 
 able parti than when he had first known her. Then 
 he had been a shabby sort of dark horse a social 
 derelict, almost a grind. Now he was the college 
 tennis champion, a member of an ultra smart club, 
 a popular man. That might easily make a differ 
 ence the difference. 
 
 Class Day was the day when everybody "got 
 
142 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 engaged." In all the novels and stories about 
 university life which he had read, the collegian 
 hero always selected Class Day as the opportune 
 moment for protesting his undying affection for 
 his beloved. It was true that for Tom college fic 
 tion had proved but a poor camera obscura of actual 
 conditions, nevertheless, it had had its influence 
 upon his ideas. If he didn t propose to Evelyn on 
 Class Day, some other fellow probably would, and 
 who knew what she might do? No, he must not 
 only square himself with her for past neglect, but 
 he must make up for it by then and there offering 
 her his heart and hand. 
 
 And, indeed, what more opportune occasion for 
 words of love can there ever be than that offered 
 by the evening hours of Class Day to the couple 
 wandering among the shadows of the overarching 
 elms? For young Mr. Smith the future lies 
 stretched out a plain, well-marked highway 
 leading across comfortable and smiling valleys to 
 the mysterious and happy mountains of Fame 
 and Fortune. He is full of the egotism and en 
 thusiasm of youth. He is ignorant of the mocking 
 insincerities of the world. He feels his strength 
 as the strength of ten, because his heart is pretty 
 nearly pure. To young Miss Jones he is a warrior 
 going forth to combat, certain of victory, of pop 
 ular applause, of glory. They are sitting, perhaps, 
 in the cushioned window of his room, where prob 
 ably mamma or aunty with discreet intention has 
 left them to themselves. Below them, in the gentle 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 143 
 
 night wind the Chinese lanterns sway and blink 
 among the leaves, yellow lights flicker in a hundred 
 windows, vague figures, hand in hand or arm in 
 arm, glide among the tree trunks or sit close to 
 gether upon the stone steps of the old buildings, 
 and from the end of the Yard the last strains of 
 "Fair Harvard," played by a sentimental regimental 
 band from Cambridgeport, linger and die slowly 
 away. 
 
 How could any well-regulated senior escape a 
 declaration under such circumstances? Otherwise 
 what business would he have to sit at such a time 
 in a cushioned window with any girl? Thus, fol 
 lowing the line of least resistance, many an inno 
 cent collegian finds himself enmeshed in the net of 
 matrimony before he has as yet fairly determined 
 how he is going to earn his bread and butter. 
 
 Tom stood beside Evelyn as she sat ensconced 
 on the window-seat of his room in Thayer s Hall and 
 the last lines of the college song sung by three thou 
 sand young voices faded out of hearing. She seemed 
 deeply stirred as, with lips slightly parted, she 
 gazed through the trees to where the distant mu 
 sicians were disbanding. They had not spoken 
 for several minutes. In the dim reflections cast 
 by the lanterns among the branches, her face had 
 the same sweet allurement that it had had when, 
 after ten years, he had seen her for the first time 
 in the flickering firelight of her father s study. 
 He felt a sudden and overpowering tenderness, 
 which coincided with an instinctive recognition 
 
144 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 that this was the appropriate moment for what 
 must necessarily be a purely factitious demon 
 stration. He could not marry ! He knew it ! An 
 indefinite engagement? What right had he to 
 ask it of her? And yet he felt convinced from 
 the palpitation of his heart and the trembling in 
 his limbs that he loved Evelyn whether he had 
 any business to tell her so or not. Perhaps she 
 expected him to tell her. What harm would it 
 do anyway? He must speak now before she 
 turned her head or it would be too late. He 
 could never speak looking straight into those eyes. 
 So Tom Kelly, moved both by a pardonable emo 
 tion and a literary sense of the fitness of things, 
 threw his fate into the balance and said in a strange 
 and peculiar voice, in which excitement, embar-, 
 rassment, and tenderness figured equally: 
 
 "Evelyn, I love you! You know I love you!" 
 At this point in the story-books the senior in 
 evitably places his arm around the waist of the 
 girl in the window, who thereupon leans her head 
 against his manly shoulder and bursts into tears. 
 But in this particular presentation of the ancient 
 college drama the leading lady failed to follow her 
 cue. 
 
 Tom had no sooner uttered the words than he 
 appreciated the fatuity of the occasion which he 
 had selected for his purpose. With a hundred 
 times better grace could he have spoken them six 
 months before! He had deliberately neglected 
 Evelyn for half a year, and in the face of that 
 
, THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 145 
 
 neglect he was assuming to ask her to be his 
 wife on the strength of what ? His membership in 
 the "Woolsack"? His college championship? His 
 wasted opportunities ? His winter of frivolity ? With 
 a sudden fall in his blood temperature, he grasped 
 the fact that he had been guilty of an inexcusable 
 presumption. What had Evelyn said or done to 
 justify him in the belief that this sudden declara 
 tion would be acceptable to her? Was it not, under 
 the circumstances, almost an affront? And in the 
 same instant he perceived the real depth of his 
 feeling for her and cursed himself for having 
 jeopardized his chances by speaking at such a 
 time. If only he could have recalled his words! 
 Why did she not reply? Had he, in truth, offended 
 her? 
 
 For Evelyn did not reply. She seemed to be 
 watching something fixedly among the trees and 
 to be oblivious of what he had said. The moments 
 passed hours they seemed to Tom and still she 
 did not speak. Had she, in fact, failed to hear 
 him? Or was she deliberately ignoring his remarks 
 as the kindest thing to do? The blood leaped tu- 
 multuously to his neck and face. Oh, what a fool 
 he was ! 
 
 Then Evelyn lifted her head, smiling radiantly, 
 tenderly, at some one. There was a crunching 
 on the gravel outside the window and a shadow 
 limped forward out of the darkness. 
 
 "Hello, Evelyn !" came the cheery voice of Frank 
 True out of the shadows. "Hello, Tom !" 
 
146 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 And once again our hero s universe rocked and 
 all but toppled. 
 
 "Hello Frank, dear!" answered Evelyn softly. 
 
 A week later, upon the platform of Saunder s 
 Theatre, Tom, with his assembled classmates in 
 cap and gown, received from the president of the 
 university an imitation parchment degree and was 
 proclaimed at the same moment as thenceforth 
 belonging to the " Brotherhood of Educated Men." 
 The fact of the matter was that, although so chris 
 tened by America s most distinguished educator, 
 Tom was not an educated man; he was an imita 
 tion educated man, who, to be sure, though spurious, 
 was by no means a bad counterfeit of what he was 
 declared to be. Of culture in its true sense he had 
 none. The warehouse of his brain had merely been 
 equipped with a large variety of intellectual window- 
 dressings. For four years he had wandered lacka 
 daisically through college electives chosen with no 
 systematic purpose except to secure a degree with 
 a minimum amount of work and the maximum 
 amount of leisure. He could talk with a certain 
 glibness about Chaucer, Beaumont, Fletcher, and 
 Thomas Love Peacock; or of Kant, Hegel, and 
 Schopenhauer. He had taken elementary courses 
 in mediaeval history, economics, fine arts, music, 
 psychology, ethics, architecture, Shakespeare, the 
 English poets and novelists, botany, zoology, ge 
 ology, French, German, and chemistry. He had 
 pursued no subject with thoroughness, and what 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 147 
 
 knowledge he had was superficial. He had attended 
 the smallest number of lectures demanded by the 
 authorities, done the least amount of reading per 
 missible, and passed his examinations simply by 
 cramming his head, for temporary purposes only, 
 during a three weeks period at the end of each term. 
 As a result his mind had lost most of its power of 
 concentration. 
 
 He had no real philosophy and no genuine theory 
 of morals. After the inevitable Freshman excite 
 ment over the problem of why he should not "go 
 on the loose," he had relapsed into a state of moral 
 indifference. He had glanced over the works of 
 several celebrated agnostics offered for his delec 
 tation by his friend Peters, and he had perused, at 
 the suggestion of Mr. Russell, several utilitarian 
 and materialistic works by Locke, Mill, and others, 
 but they had helped him to no conclusion, and to 
 his confused state of mind, science and religion 
 seemed to have fought a drawn battle. One phi 
 losophy seemed about as convincing as another. 
 He had lost all faith in the God or Gods of his child 
 hood, and the theological dogmas imbibed at the 
 same period seemed to him no longer to have any 
 significance. He recognized the beauty of religion, 
 yet questioned the existence of a religious instinct. 
 Yet through this tangled forest of doubt and scep 
 ticism some unnamed influence drew him toward 
 a well-marked path of right conduct. And, in the 
 main, Tom followed it, although he could not have 
 told why. 
 
148 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 What, then, had Tom achieved by the four years 
 spent in Cambridge? Very little, it must be con 
 fessed. He had, during the first three years, at 
 least gained in health and strength of body. He 
 had acquired a trifling amount of trifling informa 
 tion upon a variety of subjects, most of which he 
 had forgotten as quickly as he had learned it. He 
 had, it is true, somewhat broadened his knowledge 
 of life, but such a broadening would have followed 
 as a matter of course, even had he not gone to col 
 lege. In a word, it may be doubted whether, under 
 the elective system of twenty years ago, Tom Kelly 
 was any better off intellectually on leaving Har 
 vard than when he entered it. Morally he was 
 worse off. One attribute, however, he had in 
 common with most of his associates in the "Wool 
 sack" he enunciated the English language dis 
 tinctly and had a creditably large and accurate 
 vocabulary. To this extent his education had not 
 been an entire failure. But Tom had not been 
 happy, which it is not only the prerogative but 
 the duty of youth to be. 
 
XIV 
 
 THE smart brougham carrying Tom Kelly to 
 "Beausejour," the Newport summer home of the 
 Scotts, rolled up the crushed blue-stone drive, set 
 with blue Californian spruce to match, rounded the 
 flower-bordered circle and came to a stop before 
 the portico. The groom, a dapper little English 
 man, who reminded Tom strikingly of Pennington, 
 jumped down from his seat beside the pink-faced 
 coachman and whipped open the door with a quick 
 touch of his cap. Both men were dressed in im 
 maculate livery and both seemed scornfully im 
 personal. 
 
 It was Tom s second visit to Newport, and its con 
 trast with the first had been vividly in his mind as, 
 reclining upon the soft cushions, he had been whirled 
 proudly up Rhode Island Avenue. Now he felt quite 
 at ease. He was fully aware that his tailor, to whom 
 he was heavily in debt, had made a good job of 
 him, and that his new blue-serge suit fitted his 
 figure to a nicety. Around his straw hat was a 
 colored band indicating to the world that he was 
 one of the elect of Harvard, and on his hands, or 
 rather in one hand, was a pair of those very yellow 
 chamois gloves that had so aroused his contempt 
 
150 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 when adorning the hands of Catherwood in the gal 
 lery of Memorial Hall only three short years be 
 fore. The wheel of his fortunes had certainly 
 revolved since those dull days, and now he was 
 triumphantly atop of it. He remembered how he 
 and his mother, taking their afternoon strolls, she 
 with her tiny black sunshade acock, had paused be 
 fore those very granite pillars bearing the insignia 
 of "Beausejour," and gazed timidly up the driveway 
 through which he, a welcome guest, had just been 
 swept in regal state. Then, they had been in mo 
 mentary apprehension lest some gardener or other 
 functionary should tell them to move along. Now, 
 the very gates swung open at his approach. It made 
 him think of that vocal exercise their old instructor 
 in Freshman elocution had given them. He had 
 been a well-meaning but rather ridiculous little 
 man who, placing his finger-tips upon the point 
 of his swelling waistcoat directly above his navel, 
 was accustomed to say in a voice pregnant with 
 adenoids: 
 
 "Remember, gentlemen, the abdomen is the 
 centre of the personality. Now, after me, gentle 
 
 men! 3 
 
 Then he would intone in a hollow bellow: 
 
 "O-pen wide your gates ! 
 
 "King John your King and England s doth 
 appro-o-ach ! " 
 
 Tom laughed, mentally substituting "King Tom" 
 for "King John." 
 
 "O-pen wide your gates!" he had chanted in a 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 151 
 
 whisper, as they had rolled toward the house. 
 "King Tom your King and Newport s doth ap 
 proach!" 
 
 He was a little in doubt as to whether he should 
 slip the little groom anything or not, but concluded 
 that there was no indication of expectancy in the 
 man s manner. So he sprang out of the brougham, 
 nodding a "Thank you," and reached back for his 
 racket-cases. The groom had them, however, and 
 was already engaged in handing them, together 
 with his new pigskin English kit-bag, to the foot 
 man in blue livery who had mysteriously appeared 
 from behind one of the marble pillars. The carriage 
 drove away, leaving him standing in the full glare 
 of the afternoon sun on the red tiles of the white 
 stucco porch. A tall gray-haired man now emerged 
 from the doorway. 
 
 "Mrs. Scott is resting," said he respectfully, "and 
 both gentlemen are out on the water. Will you 
 go to your room, sir?" 
 
 It was but four o clock of a brilliant July day, 
 and rich odors from the near-by garden floated 
 across the driveway. Tom had expected Allyn to 
 meet him. It was a pity to waste such a beautiful 
 afternoon. He might have got in a few practice 
 sets of tennis. Still, the footman seemed to think 
 he ought to go to his room, and the fellow probably 
 knew. The heavy shadows of the massive hall 
 were almost chilly after the heat of the roadway 
 and it was quite dark in there. He made out a 
 huge white marble fireplace, in imitation of the one 
 
152 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 at Blois, and some white marble seats, upon which 
 were thrown with elaborate carelessness a few 
 crimson velvet cushions. Up a broad, thickly car 
 peted staircase he followed the footman to a land 
 ing leading to the "bachelor s wing," and thence 
 down a long silent hall to the end, where a door 
 was standing ajar. 
 
 "In here, sir," said the man, preceding him. 
 
 Tom inspected with amazement his new training 
 quarters the "royal suite," or whatever it might 
 be called. He had had no previous conception of 
 the opulence of his friend s family. A bright In 
 dian rug covered two-thirds of the polished hard 
 wood floor. Over a wide fireplace hung a stag s 
 head a "royal" an ivory tag giving the place 
 and date of its execution: "Dunrobin, September 
 21, 1893." Dainty cerise-silk curtains hung from 
 the valanced windows, and the single "two-thirds" 
 bed was covered with a spread of the same ma 
 terial. Where the pillow should have been, ac 
 cording to the etiquette of Newbury Street, was 
 a round bolster also of silk. There were easy 
 chairs of leather and wicker, a polar-bear rug lay 
 in front of the fireplace, and engravings of English 
 beauties alternating with sporting prints, hung 
 over the bed and along the walls. A round table 
 offered the current weekly and monthly magazines 
 placed in neat, overlapping rows, and, lest they 
 should prove too intellectually exhausting, against 
 the wall was a sort of sideboard ranged on which 
 were boxes of cigars and cigarettes of different 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 153 
 
 brands and sizes, and a row of decanters with a 
 bucket of cracked ice and aerated waters. 
 
 "Whew!" thought Tom. "This is pretty soft!" 
 
 "The bath is here, sir," said the man, opening 
 another door. 
 
 "Oh, very well," answered Tom, not knowing 
 whether it was comme il faut to express apprecia 
 tion of one s accommodations in a friend s house. 
 "Holy Mike!" was what he in fact remarked to 
 himself at sight of the "bath." It was an enormous 
 room, tiled from floor to ceiling, and fitted with 
 every known device for cleansing and refreshing 
 the human body. Showers, sitz and needle baths 
 supplemented the more plebeian services of a porce 
 lain tub raised on silver claws and standing in the 
 middle of a white glazed desert. French soaps in 
 sealed packages lay at hand and a series of glass 
 rods held woolly Turkish towels as big as table 
 cloths. It made Tom want to strip at once. And 
 he had already resolved to have a drink as soon as 
 he should be left alone. The valet finished arrang 
 ing the contents of the valise upon the dressing- 
 table and in the wardrobe and, having asked Tom 
 for his trunk-check, announced that Mrs. Scott 
 always had tea at five on the terrace, and then 
 withdrew. Tom examined everything all over 
 again with great enjoyment. 
 
 "Golly!" he repeated under his breath. "This 
 is all right. Pretty soft, eh?" And, as he took 
 in appreciatively the fine points of a steel-engraved 
 Grecian lady coyly emerging from the Ionian Sea 
 
154 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 without any dampness being visible upon her pol 
 ished limbs, his mind reverted for an instant with 
 grim satisfaction to the tin tub shared in rotation 
 by the boarders at the "Mountain Home House." 
 Then he stepped over to the window-seat and looked 
 out upon a rose-garden in full bloom. 
 
 A marble sun-dial stood in the centre and on a 
 bench in the shade of a high green border sat a 
 young woman apparently reading. The sight of 
 her set Tom s heart thumping, for she seemed to 
 him the most beautiful, ethereal creature he had 
 ever seen. She was a slender brunette, and her 
 dark hair was curiously arranged like a huge halo 
 above her heavily pencilled eyebrows. Just at 
 that moment, as if moved to retrospection by some 
 thing she had been reading, she looked up and 
 their eyes met. Hers were soft, brown, and startled. 
 She blushed slightly, gave an almost imperceptible 
 acknowledgment of his presence by a slight in 
 clination of her head, and looked swiftly down 
 again. Tom, feeling guiltily that he had violated 
 a maiden s privacy, hastily backed away from the 
 window. But his blood was all astir and his pulses 
 beat in unruly turmoil. Who was she? Well, he d 
 find out at tea time, anyhow ! He poured out a 
 drink for himself, and, selecting a small, claro cigar 
 of an unusual shape, he lit it and then threw him 
 self back luxuriously in one of the leather chairs. 
 The whole thing seemed a wonderful enchantment. 
 The house was like the palace of the Sleeping 
 Beauty only she was not sleeping. He wondered 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 155 
 
 what she would look like asleep ! How black that 
 riot of hair would look against a pillow! After a 
 time he arose from the chair and glanced stealthily 
 out of the other window. She was gone. The 
 shadow of the hedge had crept across the green 
 where stood the sun-dial. He almost doubted 
 that she had been there. A humming-bird came 
 and hovered uncertainly for a moment just beneath 
 him, and then likewise disappeared. From a dis 
 tance he could hear the soft vibrations of a piano 
 whenever the unseen player struck the upper notes. 
 He looked at his watch and discovered that it was 
 already a quarter to five. 
 
 "Fallen on your feet this time, Tommy, old 
 boy!" he again congratulated himself, wondering 
 what it cost to run such an establishment. And 
 he was getting the whole benefit of it for nothing ! 
 
 He washed his face and hands, brushed his hair 
 and, having put on a clean collar and fresh tie, ven 
 tured forth to find the "terrace." A footman arose 
 from out of the shadows in the front hall and di 
 rected him through a drawing-room crowded with 
 bric-a-brac and ornate furniture to the opposite 
 side of the house, where a lawn sloped gradually 
 away from a veranda lined with Chinese vases full 
 of flowering shrubs. Near a flight of stone steps 
 leading to another grassy slope he could see a couple 
 of ladies sitting beside a wicker table on which 
 shone various articles of silver. The thought of 
 approaching them alone and announcing himself 
 filled him with terror and he doubled back to the 
 
156 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 veranda. He was on the point of fleeing to the 
 protection of the "bachelor wing" when he heard 
 voices in the hall and saw Allyn coming through 
 the drawing-room in the company of two other 
 men. 
 
 "Hello, Allyn!" he said, going to meet them. 
 
 "Hello, Tom!" answered his friend. "We ve 
 been off on the Siren to judge a race-^otherwise 
 I d have been here to meet you. Father this is 
 Tom Kelly." 
 
 The tall man with narrow face, high, arched nose 
 and pale-gray eyes, who had followed Allyn to the 
 veranda, bowed rather stiffly and held out his hand 
 for Tom to shake. His manner was perfunctorily 
 courteous, but detached, and he gave the impres 
 sion of being somewhat bored with the particular 
 thing which he happened to be doing but in hope 
 that the next might prove more entertaining. 
 
 "Glad to meet you, Mr. Kelly," he remarked. 
 And then added hastily: "Yes, yes, we must get 
 out to tea or your mother will accuse us of lese- 
 majesty." 
 
 "And Mr. Parradym Mr. Kelly," added Allyn. 
 
 The third gentleman struck Tom instantly as 
 being of an entirely different and novel type. He 
 was rather stout, neatly but not smartly dressed, 
 and had a red, good-natured face with a large in 
 quiring nose and kindly, rather watery, blue eyes. 
 
 "Oh, yes, Mr. Kelly to be sure !" said he, giving 
 Tom s hand a warm pressure. "The coming cham 
 pion, we understand." 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 157 
 
 Tom soon learned that Mr. Parradym never 
 referred to himself and always included all those 
 present in his conversation. 
 
 The three, led by Allyn, crossed the terrace, 
 and descended the steps to the tea-table. 
 
 "Mother, this is Tom Kelly," repeated Allyn, 
 addressing a slender harmony in mauve. The lady 
 bowed graciously, using her lorgnette. 
 
 "My sister Mrs. Wingate " continued Allyn. 
 
 Tom turned and found himself bowing to the 
 girl of the rose-garden. A married woman! She 
 held out her hand, giving him an intense, eager 
 look. There was something appealing in her brown 
 eyes, a note of pathos, as if she vaguely sought pro 
 tection. 
 
 "You were in the rose-garden!" exclaimed Tom. 
 "I disturbed you ! I m sorry !" 
 
 Allyn laughed cynically, and the girl flashed a 
 look of annoyance at him. 
 
 "You can usually find Lulie in the rose-garden 
 when there are guests in the bachelor wing!" he 
 remarked banteringly. 
 
 Mrs. Scott made an impatient gesture, and said 
 something to her daughter in French which Tom 
 did not understand. He had abandoned French 
 after his Freshman year. Whatever it was, it 
 caused Mrs. Wingate to flush and bite her lips. 
 She looked helplessly at Tom and made a slight 
 gesture with her shoulders as if she knew that he 
 would understand. Instantly his instinct of chivalry 
 was aroused and he would have come valiantly to 
 
158 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 her support could he have thought of anything to 
 say. It was very rude of Allyn and cruel of his 
 mother ! 
 
 "We had quite a pretty race," said Mr. Parradym, 
 rescuing the situation. "The Alethea won by less 
 than a length !" 
 
 "By the way what are the orders for to-night?" 
 inquired Mr. Scott of his wife. 
 
 "You and I are dining with the Overtons. Allyn 
 and Lulie are going to the Welfleets , and I ac 
 cepted an invitation for Mr. Kelly to dine at the 
 Fanshaws ," she answered. 
 
 Tom was appalled. 
 
 "I really," he began, totally aghast, "I don t 
 know Mrs. Fanshaw I haven t met her!" 
 
 "That s nothing!" Mr. Scott informed him. 
 "You are what is known as an available man. 
 You not only can dine out every night you must 
 dine out every night." 
 
 "Cheer up," urged Mr. Parradym. "I m dining 
 there myself and it s not half bad. Lots of worse 
 places. And Fanshaw has some very excellent old 
 Madeira." 
 
 "I should die!" groaned Tom quite naturally, 
 and the others laughed in spite of themselves. 
 "Can t I stay at home?" 
 
 "Look here, mother," suggested Allyn suddenly, 
 "I have it. Let Lulie chaperon Tom to the Wei- 
 fleets and I ll take in the Fanshaws . They ll never 
 know the difference. The Welfleets would much 
 rather have him, anyway he s something new." 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 159 
 
 "And give you a chance to make love to Mimi 
 Fanshaw!" shot back his sister at him. 
 
 "Well," said Mrs. Scott, "if it would make Mr. 
 Kelly any more comfortable not to go alone of 
 course nobody cares, really; it will surely be all 
 right if you prefer?" 
 
 Tom glanced quickly at Mrs. Wingate and some 
 thing told him that she would not be displeased 
 if he accepted Allyn s suggestion. Already he felt 
 as if some secret bond of sympathy existed between 
 them. 
 
 "If I have to go out I d much prefer to go that 
 way," he answered. "Honestly, I d feel like a cat 
 in a strange garret I shall, anyway." 
 
 "Only there ll be another cat there that you 
 know !" chuckled Allyn. 
 
 And again Tom could find no words. 
 
 The butler and two footmen now made their 
 appearance for the purpose of removing the tea 
 things, and Mr. Scott decided that he must go and 
 write some letters. They all accordingly arose. 
 Mrs. Scott affably informed Tom that it was a 
 great pleasure to have him with them and then, 
 nodding to the others, walked stiffly off beside her 
 husband. 
 
 "What happens now?" wondered Tom. It was 
 only half after five the coolness of the evening 
 was creeping through the garden the shadows 
 reaching out across the grass the loveliest hour 
 of the day. 
 
 "Do you play bridge?" asked Mrs. Wingate. 
 
160 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 "No," answered Tom, feeling very stupid, "I 
 never learned." 
 
 "What a shame!" 
 
 Emboldened by her tone, he asked: "Will you 
 teach me?" 
 
 "I d love to," she answered. "Anything you 
 like." 
 
 "She knows all sorts of games," said Allyn sig 
 nificantly. "By George, Lulie!" he whistled, "you 
 and I promised to go over to the Langhorns at five- 
 thirty. We re late now ! Come along." 
 
 "Some other time, then," murmured Tom. She 
 held out her hand, and as he pressed it, she turned 
 away leaving, as it were, a precious possession for 
 a moment in his clasp. 
 
 "You two fellows will have to take care of your 
 selves, Parry," remarked Allyn. "Why don t you 
 take Kelly down to the Club?" 
 
 "Oh, I d rather stay here and smoke a cigarette," 
 answered Tom. "That is, if Mr. Parradym doesn t 
 mind." 
 
 In truth he wished to learn without delay every 
 thing there was to know about Mrs. Wingate. Was 
 there a Mr. Wingate, for example? She was not 
 in black could not be a widow. 
 
 He took Parradym s offered cigarette, uncon 
 sciously inspecting the brand. 
 
 "You needn t be afraid," laughed the other. 
 "They re Scott s not mine. And I tell him where 
 to buy em so I know they re all right. Yes," 
 he added with a dry smile. "I m a little brother 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 161 
 
 to the rich. You might as well Jknow it now as 
 later." 
 
 Tom was so taken aback by this extraordinary 
 frankness that all he could do was to ask lamely: 
 "Are you staying here?" 
 
 "Oh, yes !" replied Parradym. "I usually spend 
 July here. Have for the last fifteen years. It s 
 a very comfortable house and quite all right in 
 most ways! Besides, our hostess is an excellent 
 executive, and gives her husband his orders every 
 morning all of us, in fact." 
 
 They had strolled the length of the terrace and 
 instinctively had turned down another flight of 
 steps leading into a grassy corner from which they 
 could see the breakers surging against the rocks. 
 
 "And now to answer your question about Mrs. 
 Wingate 
 
 "I didn t ask you anything about her," inter 
 rupted Tom. 
 
 "Oh, didn t you? Well, excuse me, but every 
 body does want to know about Mrs. Wingate yes, 
 she has a husband, really a very good sort of fellow, 
 too. But they don t get on for some reason 
 several reasons, and as she has three millions of 
 her own she manages without him very well." 
 
 "Are they divorced?" 
 
 "No not so far as I am aware," answered Par 
 radym. "But substantially so. Only, as there is 
 no question of either alimony or the custody of 
 children, they never have thought it necessary to 
 go to court." 
 
1 62 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 Tom said nothing. It was certainly no concern 
 of his what domestic arrangements the Wingates 
 might choose to make and yet for some reason he 
 was disappointed. His dream had faded into 
 nothing. 
 
 "But there are others!" murmured Mr. Par- 
 radym, as if to himself. 
 
 Tom began to be secretly annoyed with his cheery 
 faced fellow guest. What right had Parradym to 
 assume that he had taken any sudden romantic 
 interest in Mrs. Wingate? 
 
 "You wonder what business it is of mine?" said 
 his new friend. "None. Except in so far as a case- 
 hardened old social parasite ought to try to keep 
 the game on a fair basis, and give the players the 
 benefit of his experience. You don t know me. 
 I ve heard a little about you. I know more than 
 you think from looking at you. I m a friend of 
 the family and I m a friend to all nice young fel 
 lows. We all have our faults and we all ought to 
 be charitable toward others. But this is rather 
 a dangerous house, between you and me, for a 
 young chap to start in." 
 
 Tom s annoyance had deepened into mild in 
 dignation. Let this comfortable old "parasite," 
 as he admitted that he was, speak for himself and 
 not for others! He was about to let drop some 
 hint of this sort, when Mr. Parradym laid his hand 
 gently on Tom s shoulder. 
 
 "What a wonderful sight!" he said, pointing 
 out toward the open sea. It was true. The wind 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 163 
 
 had fallen until the ocean lay undulating in long 
 streaks of near-colors, off-shades of purple, yellow, 
 blue, and crimson like watered silk. A mile away 
 the snowy sails of a square-rigged yacht reflected 
 the dazzling light of the setting sun. All was still 
 save for the slow splash of the waves against the 
 rocks and the chirp of birds in the bushes about 
 them. Overhead the sky was an arc of deepest 
 blue. 
 
 "This is the real immortality 1" muttered Par- 
 radym. 
 
 Tom was only conscious that his associate had 
 said something. He was looking, to be sure, in 
 the direction of the sea, but all he saw was the ap 
 pealing face of Lulie Wingate. 
 
 "I beg your pardon what was it you said?" 
 he asked. 
 
XV 
 
 "GOT everything you want?" 
 
 Allyn had popped his head in at the door of 
 Tom s room, where he found the latter assisted 
 by a valet hastily getting into his dress clothes. 
 In reality the valet was only in the way, since Tom 
 had not the remotest idea what use to make of 
 him and found it very inconvenient when he wanted 
 to put on his trousers to have the fellow clinging 
 to their legs. It seemed almost as much of a 
 " stunt" to get into them as to leap through a hoop, 
 but he presently discovered that, after you had 
 inserted your leg, the valet released that particular 
 trouser at the precise moment requisite to enable 
 you to get it through to the floor instead of leaving 
 the limb suspended in mid-air. Even then the 
 process savored of skipping rope. 
 
 "You bet I have and more!" answered Tom, 
 buttoning his suspenders in front while the valet 
 performed that office for him behind. "I hope 
 I m not late?" 
 
 Allyn took out a small watch the thickness of a 
 cheese-knife. 
 
 "It s only eight o clock," he said. "The carriages 
 aren t ordered until quarter past." 
 
 "Don t you dine at eight?" 
 
 164 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 165 
 
 "Oh, nobody ever gets anywhere before eight- 
 thirty. What would be the use? Some one would 
 be sure to be late and keep everybody else waiting." 
 
 Allyn filled himself a glass of whiskey and soda 
 from the sideboard, and lit a cigarette at the al 
 cohol-burner. 
 
 "Lord, yes! Time to burn! Have a drink?" 
 Tom nodded. " Give Mr. Kelly a Scotch-and-soda," 
 Allyn added to the valet, who having obeyed, re 
 moved himself. 
 
 "Here s howl" remarked Tom, taking a long 
 pull at his glass. Smacking his lips, he gazed ap 
 preciatively around the apartment. "By the way, 
 who is Parradym?" he asked casually. 
 
 "Parradym? Oh, he s a good-natured, easy 
 going sort of chap rather cynical, but kind-hearted 
 and keen as a razor. I tell you, nothing gets by 
 old Parry! He could make a lot of money if he 
 wanted to work, but he doesn t want to. He s 
 been everywhere, seen everything, read every book 
 ever written, knows everybody, but is poor as a 
 church-mouse. Nobody knows exactly who he is, 
 and I guess he isn t anybody exactly. They say 
 he writes for the magazines and newspapers under 
 a nom de plume, and manages to get along in that 
 way, but he only needs enough to pay for his wash 
 because he spends most of his time visiting or play 
 ing golf on the Riviera. He told me once his entire 
 winter had cost him less than a thousand francs. 
 But I d trust him with my last sou and follow his 
 advice even if it led me over a cliff." 
 
1 66 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 "I wonder if it ever would lead you over a cliff !" 
 mused Tom. 
 
 "Why do you say that?" 
 
 "Oh, I don t know! Just a thought of mine." 
 
 "You re right!" replied Allyn. "I chose a bad 
 illustration. Parradym s advice wouldn t ever lead 
 you over a cliff. On the contrary, it can always be 
 followed with perfect safety. It is the gospel of 
 expediency raised to its nth power so much so that 
 at times it almost seems to be idealistic rather 
 than utilitarian. You remember Phil, 4 ? The 
 idio-psychological theory of ethics, and all that 
 rot? To be perfectly frank, I should say that the 
 only danger from poor Parry would be that, if you 
 followed his advice, you might remain quite com 
 fortable when you ought to go on over the cliff 
 you remember 
 
 " Twere man s perdition to be safe 
 When for the Truth he ought to die ! J) 
 
 This sudden flash startled Tom. 
 
 "Why, Allyn!" he cried, "do you believe that? 
 I thought you were a rank materialist!" 
 
 Allyn smiled rather wearily. 
 
 "I haven t the remotest idea what I am," he 
 answered as he emptied his glass and replaced it 
 on the sideboard. "And even if I had, I d prob 
 ably be mistaken." 
 
 "I don t understand," said Tom. "How could 
 you be mistaken, if you knew what you were?" 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 167 
 
 "Why, I mean that I might think I was one 
 thing and all the time be something else. My 
 reason might lead me to accept a certain set of 
 conclusions as sound, and my instinct would lead 
 me to follow another. I might be an egoist in theory 
 and an idealist by nature. Sometimes I suspect 
 that s the way it is with Parry. Hell preach a 
 doctrine of utter selfishness and give away his last 
 quarter to a drunken tramp to hurry him along 
 to the bone-yard, 7 as he says." 
 
 "Whatever he is, I guess he s a wise old guy!" 
 answered Tom. "I never knew you thought about 
 such things, Allyn !" 
 
 "Think about em!" groaned Allyn, suddenly 
 turning upon Tom, the black circles around his 
 eyes showing in strong contrast against the pallor 
 of his skin. "With me it s just the other way round. 
 I ve got a chronic, burning thirst. I drink. I have 
 to or I d go crazy. But do you suppose I believe 
 in it? No, I don t! In theory I m a teetotaler. 
 I m for the grape-juice and soft stuff. But that s 
 all the good it does me ! I d go shouting for pro 
 hibition at the head of the procession, and just 
 naturally turn into the first saloon. That is, my 
 feet would, but my head wouldn t. However, I d 
 get the drink. That s the instinct the craving 
 of the body, that drives me along, just as some 
 other fellow s instinct would drive him along over 
 the cliff maybe when he knew or thought he knew 
 that he was an ass for going." 
 
 "Mrs. Scott sent me up to say that the carriage 
 
1 68 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 was waiting," said the valet appearing at the door, 
 and both boys ran hastily down the corridor. 
 
 In the hall were Mrs. Wingate and Parradym, 
 the host and hostess having already gone along, 
 while at the door stood two broughams, their lamps 
 lighted. 
 
 "Jump in with Lulie, Tom!" directed Allyn. 
 "I ll probably drop over to the Welfleets along 
 about eleven. See you then, old man." 
 
 Mrs. Wingate was already lifting her skirt to 
 get into the first carriage and displaying in the 
 process a ravishingly slender ankle. She turned 
 and glanced over her shoulder at Tom. 
 
 "Will you follow me?" she asked archly. 
 
 "Anywhere!" answered Tom for her ear alone, 
 yet he felt that he would have proclaimed it joy 
 ously from the housetops with all the world lis 
 tening. He sprang up the steps and seated himself 
 beside her, his body tingling as he felt his arm touch 
 ing the delicate texture of her white wrap, from 
 which her face gleamed like that of a gypsy; and 
 he turned intending to cast a glance of scorn at 
 Parradym through the open window. The ruddy 
 countenance of that gentleman was already there, 
 however. 
 
 "Deal gently with the boy, Lulie!" said Parra 
 dym good-humoredly. "I have told him you were 
 a Serpent of Old Nile!" 
 
 The brougham started forward, leaving the win 
 dow vacant and crushing Tom deliciously against 
 his companion. 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 169 
 
 "I I think they are all perfectly horrid to you !" 
 he blurted out excitedly. "But I want you to 
 know that I m on your side!" 
 
 He dared not look at her as he made this declara 
 tion. But he gloried in the fact that he was fol 
 lowing his instinct. Had not Allyn said that in 
 stinct inevitably presided over mere intelligence? 
 That was the case now with him. She was in his 
 eyes a captive princess misunderstood slighted, 
 abused, and he was already her champion. 
 
 "I knew you understood, the first time we met 
 at tea," she answered with gratitude. "It is so 
 hard, if one cares for the things that are really 
 worth while, to find any sympathy here. So I am 
 quite lonely. My mother could not possibly un 
 derstand how I could wish to read a book, for ex 
 ample. You recall how they all attributed some 
 ulterior purpose to my being in the garden." 
 
 "I m glad I saw you first that way!" said Tom 
 tenderly. "I shall never forget how you looked 
 sitting there with the sunlight in your hair! How 
 strange I never knew Allyn had a sister!" 
 
 "He might as well not have any!" she retorted 
 bitterly. "You see how I m made to feel like an 
 interloper, or at least like an unwelcome guest, as 
 if somehow / were entirely to blame for my unfor 
 tunate marriage. But we mustn t talk of these 
 unpleasant things!" she added gently. "We must 
 be gay and happy in order to make a proper 
 entrance into this grand mansion of chattering 
 fools. You will tire of all this in a week. How 
 
170 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 I envy you your splendid youth, your future 
 your work!" 
 
 Tom was not aware that he had mentioned any 
 of his plans for the future, but her tone was enough 
 to lead him to renew fervently his vows of loyalty; 
 yet mingled with his real admiration for her and 
 the flame of passion which she aroused was the 
 conscious satisfaction that he, Tom Kelly, was 
 actually making love to a beautiful three million 
 dollar heiress and getting along rather better than 
 could have been expected. It quite went to his 
 head. If he could do this with her think of all 
 the other and less distinguished girls! But he 
 must be true! A little fun merely the mildest 
 flirting with others. He could hardly control 
 his voice as the carriage paused to allow another, 
 immediately preceding it, to roll away around the 
 brilliantly lighted circle in front of an enormous 
 house, the verandas of which, as well as the grounds, 
 were hung with Chinese lanterns. 
 
 "The house of Mammon!" whispered Mrs. Win- 
 gate bitterly. 
 
 A groom snapped open the door and saluted. 
 
 "Carriages are being ordered for one o clock," 
 he said. 
 
 "Heavens!" muttered Tom. "It doesn t take 
 five hours to eat dinner, does it?" 
 
 Lulie Wingate threw him a protecting smile. 
 
 "There will be dancing, afterward; you can 
 stay if you wish. But I am tired of it. Be here 
 at eleven, Jules." 
 
 They passed in through a row of footmen, one 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 171 
 
 of whom directed them to opposite sides of the 
 great entrance hall, and when Tom emerged from 
 the reception-room he found her already waiting 
 for him. He hesitated as to whether he should 
 offer her his arm as they followed the butler to the 
 door of the drawing-room, but decided against it 
 since Mrs. Wingate seemed inclined to lead the 
 way by herself. A veritable tumult was going on 
 inside the threshold so deafening that the voice 
 of the butler, shouting "Mrs. Wingate," made no 
 impression upon it whatever. He bent over in 
 quiringly toward Tom, who gave him his name. 
 
 " Mr. Perry!" bellowed the man defiantly at 
 the throng. 
 
 Then hurrying forward came a stout, red-faced 
 lady in a white gown who seized Mrs. Wingate s 
 hand and cried hoarsely: "So glad to see you, Lulie ! 
 So nice of you to come, dear! and this is Mr. 
 Kelly! Come over and let me introduce you to 
 some of these pretty girls ! " 
 
 Tom had received an envelope in the coat-room 
 containing a tiny sheet of crested note-paper which 
 informed him in French that he was requested to 
 escort one Miss Selby to dinner. He had also ac 
 quired a cocktail in the dressing-room, and in con 
 sequence felt quite at home even rather superior; 
 and this confidence was not impaired, as he followed 
 his hostess through the crowd and received a con 
 fused impression of the appearance of most of the 
 men. There really wasn t anybody that looked 
 like much a lot of little "Willies" with pointed 
 waxed mustaches and pink cheeks, and old codgers 
 
172 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 with "bow- windows," heavy jowls, and fishy eyes. 
 He recognized and nodded somewhat patroniz 
 ingly to Pennington, and later, at table, to Gather- 
 wood. He had not expected to see them, and he 
 observed with pride the obvious interest taken in 
 himself by their fair companions. 
 
 He began to realize that he was something of 
 a celebrity a little lion, for the time being, and he 
 had the perspicacity to see that he must make hay 
 while the sun shone and seize the opportunities of 
 the moment. 
 
 "Miss Selby Mr. Kelly: Be nice to him, 
 Pauline 1" and his hostess waddled away leaving 
 him standing in front of a pretty, if somewhat 
 Junoesque, young blonde. Tom took the hand ex 
 tended to his, and received a firm grip. The girl 
 had warmth, directness, and a certain kind of dash 
 that was distinctly attractive. It was rather plain 
 that she was a little spoiled, probably wilful, and 
 knew exactly what she wanted. It was equally 
 obvious that she was glad to have Tom as her 
 partner at dinner, and she took pains to let her 
 satisfaction be seen by her less fortunate com 
 panions in the slight touch of proprietorship which 
 she injected into her manner and remarks. 
 
 "I m like Red-Top seeing the world, " said 
 Tom, smiling. "Didn t you have Baby-Days 
 when you were a child? And don t you remember 
 the picture of the chick who started out on his 
 career and got lost?" 
 
 " Red-Top ? Was that the chick s name?" 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 173 
 
 inquired Pauline, innocently lifting her eyes in 
 the direction of Tom s wavy locks. 
 
 He laughed. 
 
 "I didn t mean to suggest that the analogy was 
 so close, but I see it strikes you." 
 
 "Do you feel like Red-Top ?" she asked good- 
 naturedly. 
 
 "This is my first appearance in smart society," 
 he answered, "and I m naturally a bit out of my 
 depth. If you see me drowning please pull me 
 ashore and give me first aid ?" 
 
 They were already on an easy footing and Tom 
 congratulated himself that he was getting along 
 very well. Pauline introduced him to two or three 
 manifestly cordial young women standing near 
 them, and when the move was made to the dining- 
 room he felt entirely at ease. He had no difficulty 
 in guiding his Miss Selby to her place, for the butler 
 stood at the door and directed them where to go, 
 and his chair had no sooner been pushed in by the 
 footman in powdered hair behind him than the 
 dinner began to be served. 
 
 Although fast getting used to luxury, Tom was 
 actually aghast at the reckless extravagance dis 
 played in what appeared to be regarded by those 
 around him as a simple entertainment. Twelve 
 flunkeys waited upon the twenty-eight guests, 
 most of whom were young men and girls of about 
 his own age, with a sprinking of oldish bachelors. 
 The table was profusedly decorated with orchids 
 and roses, and loaded with the hothouse s finest 
 
174 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 fruit. Russian caviare served in ice-blocks, green- 
 turtle soup, Pompano, mousse of an indefinable 
 and delicious savor, magnificent saddles of lamb, 
 elaborate salads concealed in the interior of gigantic 
 specimens of fruit, golden plover, and complicated 
 ices of the form and size of swans, constituted a 
 menu which would have been appropriate to the 
 coronation of an Emperor. Tom ate from gold 
 plate and drank from rock-crystal, and he ate and 
 drank freely, enjoying it all, not observing that 
 comparatively few of the young guests seemed to 
 take any interest in the Lucullian viands offered 
 them. The noise in the dining-room was inten 
 sified by much shouting across the table and bois 
 terous laughter on the part of most of the men. 
 In fact, noise seemed to be the recognized ther 
 mometer of enjoyment. Only with difficulty could 
 Tom hear what Miss Selby was saying or make 
 himself heard in reply. One man in particular 
 succeeded in creating an overwhelming din by his 
 own unaided attempts to liven up the already lively 
 party, and his raucous trumpetings could be heard 
 rising high above the other uproar as he turned, 
 in eccentric jumps from side to side, shrieking his 
 witticisms so that none of them should be lost, 
 his flaccid face flushed with champagne. Tom 
 became somewhat dizzy from the glare of the elec 
 tric lights and almost faint from the heaviness of 
 the air. Once his eyes found those of Lulie Win- 
 gate beyond a huge bed of flaming orchids and she 
 raised her brows and shrugged her shoulders slightly 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 175 
 
 as if in deprecation of the scene about them. But 
 in spite of the blur that kept coming across his 
 vision he experienced a strange exhilaration. He 
 felt almost as if he were taking part in some bar 
 baric ceremonial. The hubbub was like the frenzied 
 shouting of fanatics before some heathen altar, and 
 the odor of the food like the incense offered to some 
 great and terrible god. 
 
 When at last the feast was over, it was with a 
 sense of physical relief that he followed his host 
 out upon the veranda and let the soft, damp air 
 from the ocean play about his temples. A footman 
 offered him cigars and cigarettes, but he declined 
 them. He must keep his wind in shape for the 
 tournament. The tournament! He had almost 
 forgotten it in the excitement incident to his ad 
 vent in this giddy social whirl. To-morrow he 
 would go into strict training. Yet he knew in his 
 heart that the attention he was receiving, the 
 lavishness he saw about him, the recognition that 
 was his for the first time, the discovery that, in 
 spite of his poverty he counted was somebody 
 in the great world, the larger vision of the material 
 life, was more to him than the mere winning of 
 any tournament. The championship was all very 
 well, but you couldn t make a living by playing 
 tennis. Now that he was one of these swells these 
 rich and powerful personages who ran things to 
 whom money was nothing was there anything he 
 couldn t have? Why shouldn t he make friends 
 with these men his host Welfleet, for instance, 
 
176 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 get solid with him, and feather his nest? Old Par- 
 radym seemed to have a pretty snug time of it! 
 It shouldn t be difficult for him, Tom, to do the 
 same thing. 
 
 Pondering thus, he was joined presently by Cath- 
 erwood and Pennington, who insisted on dragging 
 him off to a near-by group of men of about his own 
 age and introducing him as the coming victor in 
 the national tournament. These young fellows evi 
 dently regarded themselves as the jeunesse doree of 
 New York and Newport society, as doubtless they 
 were, for their conversation dwelt exclusively upon 
 the more private social happenings of those places, 
 save when it hovered with significant innuendoes 
 over back stairs and stage entrances. Tom was ac 
 customed to the ubiquitous use of Christian names 
 at college, but he was amazed to discover that not 
 only did these gallant youths assume an attitude of 
 the greatest familiarity with himself and with each 
 other, but that they seemed to be on an intimate 
 footing with all the adults, male and female, in 
 the select circle of the Four Hundred. Elderly 
 persons, who apparently had a considerable amount 
 of personal dignity, were referred to easily as 
 "Bobby" This and "Daisy" That, much as the 
 man in the street refers to his favorite race-horse, 
 actress, or prize-fighter. An atmosphere of omnis 
 cience in regard to social and sporting life hung 
 over the circle. Most of the boys were not twenty- 
 five years old, yet their talk was mostly of gam 
 bling houses and demi-mondaines. They seemed to 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 177 
 
 view Tom much as wealthy patrician youths of 
 ancient Rome might have regarded a well-recom 
 mended gladiator since he appeared strong in wind 
 and limb they accorded him their approval and 
 received him in a friendly fashion for the time 
 being into their midst. 
 
 The freedom also with which they discussed the 
 intimate domestic affairs of their friends and their 
 friends fathers and mothers shocked him. He 
 had thought himself quite a man of the world be 
 fore; had himself indulged in a good deal of cheap 
 and pretentious talk about people in Boston and 
 Brookline whom he hardly knew; but this was 
 well raw! It was one thing to refer to an el 
 derly married man by his first name "Freddy," 
 for instance but openly to discuss his allowance 
 to a notorious vaudeville artiste and his quarrels 
 with her predecessor seemed to savor of indelicacy. 
 The anecdotes exchanged were perhaps no more 
 vulgar than those he had heard at his table in 
 Memorial Hall, but there was a cynicism in the 
 way they were told that made them seem doubly 
 salacious. In a word, the tone was low. The 
 conversation seemed to have become hopelessly 
 " mired." Even the discussion of athletics was 
 so colored by betting talk of big sums wagered 
 and lost on the most trifling events that the sport 
 itself seemed a secondary consideration. And there 
 were, besides, half-jocular references to the matri 
 monial prospects of the young ladies whose society 
 they had but recently enjoyed at dinner. Tom 
 
178 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 heard the probable fortunes of several of these 
 girls openly estimated, as well as those of their 
 parents. And there was also a good deal of malicious 
 gossip commonly referred to as slander, but better 
 described as character murder. In this gentle art 
 these young gentlemen had already acquired a 
 fine Italian hand. They spared no one. When 
 other subjects waned, they returned to it with re 
 newed zest. The stab was veiled, but if the thrust 
 was usually behind the arras, poor old Polonius 
 was ultimately dragged forth a victim. 
 
 But if Tom was startled, he listened, none the 
 less, with passionate eagerness to all that he heard. 
 It tickled his vanity to feel himself on such a fa 
 miliar footing with the great, or those who walked 
 with them. This was a "young" party, but at any 
 rate his companions all these youths and maid 
 ens were the pages and flower-girls, the court 
 iers or avant-couriers of royalty. He gathered 
 that there was a richer world beyond even than 
 this ! What marvels lay behind those other doors 
 as yet closed? If these were the children, what of 
 the parents? He flattered himself that it would 
 take but little practice on his part to talk as glibly 
 as these other fellows. Apparently, no mental ac 
 quirement was necessary. Politics, art, philosophy, 
 books, were not touched upon. To be shaven, 
 bathed, well-tailored, to have your hair parted in 
 the middle, to wear a white waistcoat, and a dress 
 shirt with pearl studs imitation, perhaps to look 
 pleasant and have a ready smile, these were all 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 179 
 
 the essentials for admission into the palaces of 
 the great. So far as Tom could see there was noth 
 ing about these men, save their strict adherence 
 to convention in the matter of manners and dress, 
 to differentiate them from any other youths of their 
 own age, except the fact that they were the guests 
 of Mrs. Welfleet in Newport, Rhode Island, instead 
 of being the guests of Mrs. Smith of somewhere else. 
 
 At the end of half an hour or so the orchestra 
 began tuning up in a pavilion which had been erected 
 for the occasion on the Welfleets extensive lawn, 
 and the party on the veranda broke up, some of 
 the men returning to the drawing-room, but the 
 majority floating toward the library, where tables 
 had been prepared for bridge and poker. 
 
 Tom, diffident about entering a hall full of com 
 parative strangers and somewhat doubtful as to 
 his knowledge of the art of dancing as practised in 
 Newport, wandered away among the Japanese 
 lanterns until the ball should begin, and he could 
 have an opportunity to observe in what respect the 
 manners of the Four Hundred differed from those 
 of the Back Bay. 
 
 A few adventurous couples had already found 
 their way to the pavilion and were taking advantage 
 of the unimpeded floor. The glare of lights, the 
 rattle of harness, and the noise of carriages, with 
 the shouts of the coachmen, came through the 
 shrubbery from the near-by drive. The guests at 
 other dinner-parties were "coming on" to Mrs. 
 Welfleet s. The babel of voices in the house had 
 
i8o THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 increased to nearly double its previous volume. 
 The halls were full of the newly arrived, whose 
 boisterous greetings, rising sharply above the strains 
 of the orchestra, penetrated the night. 
 
 Soon the ample rooms could no longer contain 
 the plethora of guests who surged out upon the 
 piazza and near-by lawn. There began to be a 
 concerted motion toward the pavilion. Tom, feel 
 ing that he must not lose this opportunity of ex 
 tending his acquaintance, sauntered gradually in 
 the same direction, looking for Miss Selby. He had 
 already accepted her invitation to take lunch on 
 her father s yacht next day, and he regarded her 
 as a sort of social sponsor, a part which she was 
 obviously quite ready to play. 
 
 He had half a dozen dances with Pauline, who 
 graciously permitted several of her friends to share 
 his acquaintance while maintaining a general super 
 vision over his career, and he was introduced to 
 some thirty or forty young ladies of various degrees 
 of physical attractiveness. But in all this riot of 
 wealth and beauty he saw no one who in his eyes 
 compared for an instant with Lulie Wingate in 
 charm, looks, or breeding. Besides these sunburned 
 blondes she was like an alluring S emir amis or some 
 mysterious Queen of the Night from whom floated 
 an elusive and intoxicating charm. 
 
 She was not among the dancers in the pavilion, 
 and as he looked for her he suddenly recalled the 
 fact that she had ordered her carriage for eleven 
 o clock. He felt a sudden contrition, coupled with 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 181 
 
 fear, lest he should have offended her. He ran back 
 to the house and sought her through all the rooms, 
 but she was not there she had gone home prob 
 ably. But in answer to his question the butler 
 told him positively that Mrs. Wingate had not 
 gone home, that her groom was still waiting at 
 the front door. The drawing-room was practically 
 empty and she was not among those gathered around 
 the card-tables in the library. Puzzled, he returned 
 to the pavilion. Perhaps she was sitting, waiting 
 for him somewhere expecting him to look for her. 
 Tom innocently began to extend his search amid 
 the shrubbery, but although he flushed several 
 couples sitting in the darkness, Lulie was not to 
 be found. He was by this time at the farther end 
 of the lawn beyond the circle of the Japanese lan 
 terns. A warm humid breath ascended from the 
 friendly earth, making him think of Cambridge 
 of the heavy, moisture-laden night air of Brattle 
 Street. How different all this was from the dull 
 provincial college town ! Again his breast swelled 
 with the delicious almost delirious consciousness 
 that he, Tom Kelly, who had once regarded him 
 self as a sort of "mucker," or at least as a social 
 undesirable, had come, seen, and already partly 
 conquered, this important outpost of the great 
 world, was already an honored guest in the summer 
 social centre of America, had found more than 
 favor in the tender eyes of two beautiful women. 
 It did not seem possible that all this could have 
 happened to him. The strains of "The Blue 
 
182 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 Danube" floated across the velvet grass. The night 
 lacked but one joy he had not danced with Lulie ! 
 Where could she be? If he could only find her, he 
 might possibly persuade her to surrender her prej 
 udices against the empty pleasures of society to 
 the extent of letting him take her in his arms in 
 the pavilion, of course. 
 
 In this mood of self-satisfied exaltation he slowly 
 turned and made his way through the shrubbery 
 with the idea of returning to the house. He was 
 now in a remote corner of the grounds where it 
 was quite dark and where the orchestra could be 
 heard but faintly, and he had progressed not more 
 than a dozen steps when unexpectedly just in front 
 of him the blackness was shattered by the flare of 
 a match. Framed in the outline of a rustic summer- 
 house appeared the figures of a man and a woman, 
 their faces thrown into staccato relief. For the 
 space of half a dozen seconds while the man was 
 lighting a cigar Tom stood and watched them, 
 hardly trusting his vision. There was no doubt 
 about it ! The woman was Lulie Wingate ! 
 
 Chagrin, disappointment, anger, possessed him 
 alternately. What right had she a married woman 
 to be off there in the dark, flirting with any man ? 
 And then, as he stole silently off toward the house, 
 the bitter realization came to him that if Mrs. Win- 
 gate chose to sit in the dark in a summer-house it 
 was no business of his. Any rights in the situa 
 tion that he might have under the circumstances 
 must necessarily arise out of some unformulated 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 183 
 
 and unrecognized relationship which had come 
 into existence between them. Was there any such? 
 He had known her barely eight hours. She was 
 an older if not much older woman, with a hus 
 band. What could he, Tom Kelly, have in common 
 with her? And yet his fierce blaze of wrath at the 
 sight of her with another man told him that in 
 some vague way he had linked himself with her in 
 his thoughts, had promised himself some sort of ro 
 mantic adventure, innocent or even otherwise, and 
 he was furious that it was not to be, furious at the 
 discovery that she had played with him, tricked 
 and fooled him like the half-baked college boy that 
 he was. 
 
 Still in a blind rage, he stumbled into Allyn on 
 the steps of the veranda. His friend s face was 
 flushed and his eyes had an unnatural and restless 
 glimmer. In addition he had obviously an irre 
 sistible desire to talk, for his words tumbled in 
 a steady, uninterrupted burble from his lips. This 
 was a damn stupid party, he informed Tom, just 
 like all these parties. There was nothing in it. 
 A lot of young asses, foolish girls, and silly old 
 women. He knew where he could have a real 
 time "understan a real time!" But, first he 
 lowered his tone confidentially they would go 
 to a nice little place sort of club, you know 
 where there would be only a few good fellows like 
 themselves, and where they could have a quiet 
 drink and play the wheel. 
 
 Although Tom realized that Allyn was in no 
 
1 84 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 condition to go to a gambling-house, he was quite 
 ready to cast all such considerations aside must 
 see everything he told himself study the whole 
 game from start to finish and Allyn was no worse 
 off drunk than sober. To hell with everything, 
 anyway! They d make a night of it. In this 
 frame of mind he sought out Allyn s groom, or 
 dered up the brougham and climbed into it. Lulie 
 could take care of herself, his friend assured him. 
 Let her go home alone. She d find an escort fast 
 enough, and if she didn t it wouldn t hurt her. 
 
 Thus ended, or rather began, Tom s first night 
 in Newport. 
 
XVI 
 
 TOM awoke to an unwonted sense of comfort. 
 Even the persistent aching of his head did not 
 mar his delicious sensations as he lay there between 
 the fine hand-embroidered sheets of his bed in the 
 " royal suite." He had never occupied such a couch 
 before. At home in Newbury Street all the beds 
 had wooden slats with thin, sandwich-like mat 
 tresses crushed solid by generations of use, and at 
 college he had slept upon a similar mattress with 
 only the substitution of a sagging spring instead 
 of the wooden slats. He had usually been so tired 
 that it had not mattered, but half-submerged in 
 the soft and dainty voluptuousness of his present 
 accommodations he now realized that the beds 
 which he had previously enjoyed had, without 
 exception, been hard and slinky. This was like 
 lying on a cloud. One did not want to move, still 
 less to get up. Drowsily he wondered how one 
 managed to get breakfast. At home one arose, 
 walked gingerly across the faded grass matting, 
 and poured out the water necessary for washing 
 from a heavy white pitcher into a thick white bowl 
 on a wooden wash-stand, whose once varnished sur 
 face exhibited a hundred intersecting and concentric 
 circles caused by damp tooth-mugs and similar 
 
 185 
 
1 86 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 receptacles. In spite of the feast of which he had 
 partaken the night before, Tom discovered that 
 he was hungry, the reason for which was presently 
 indicated by the chiming of a small French time 
 piece upon the mantel. Eleven o clock ! 
 
 Tom had rarely slept so late in his life before. 
 But it did not seem particularly late now. There 
 was nothing to get up for, except to lunch on the 
 Selbys yacht at one o clock, and that was two 
 hours away. He could lie in bed another hour if 
 he chose. His eye travelled across the heavy mono 
 grams on the linen to a satin quilt hanging over 
 the foot of the bed, thence to a wadded Japanese 
 dressing-gown and slippers placed near by, and 
 finally to the naked Grecian beauty emerging from 
 her bath in the Ionian Sea. By a natural connota 
 tion he saw himself likewise enjoying a refreshing 
 bath in the porcelain tub in the adjacent room. 
 How cool and delightful it would be! And he 
 would try some of those other strange hygienic 
 artifices, such as the needle bath. 
 
 He threw back the sheets and swung his silk- 
 pajamaed legs over the side of the bed until his feet 
 lost themselves in the soft fur of a rug. Then, as 
 he was about to stand up, his eye caught a thin 
 block of onyx lying upon the night-table wherein 
 were imbedded three mother-of-pearl buttons 
 marked, in small gold letters, "Butler," "Servants 
 Hall," "Valet." The words "Servants Hall" 
 suggested breakfast. He had read about places 
 where one breakfasted in bed, but he had never 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 187 
 
 enjoyed that luxury himself. Surely here, if any 
 where, he could assume that such a custom existed. 
 Perhaps the same man who brought the breakfast 
 could explain how to work the different faucets 
 in the bathroom. He pressed the button marked 
 " Valet," and sank back again among the down 
 pillows. 
 
 The window-shutters had been closed and only 
 slight streaks of sunlight were visible upon the 
 walls. The air of the room was heavy with odors 
 from the garden and the faint smell of silk up 
 holstery. A moment or two only seemed to elapse 
 before there was a subdued knock; the door opened, 
 and the valet who had assisted him in dressing the 
 night before entered. Without greeting Tom, he 
 first placed a freshly pressed suit of clothes upon 
 a chair and then, stepping noiselessly to the win 
 dows, threw open the blinds. Instantly the room 
 was flooded with sunlight, so that Tom was almost 
 blinded. He closed his eyes and turned over com 
 fortably. The man evidently knew what to do, 
 and would undoubtedly keep on going until he was 
 stopped. Tom could hear him doing something 
 in the bathroom, and presently there came a rush 
 and swirl of water. Then the man suddenly ap 
 peared beside the bed and said deferentially: 
 
 "Will you have breakfast before, or after, your 
 bath, sir?" 
 
 "Oh, I think I ll eat first," answered Tom, for 
 he was not sure whether it would be good form to 
 get back into bed after he had once left it. 
 
1 88 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 "Shall I wash your face, sir?" inquired the man 
 in a matter-of-fact tone. 
 
 Tom was genuinely shocked. Was it humanly 
 possible that fellows existed who would allow a 
 servant to swab their faces as they lay in bed? 
 
 "No, thanks!" he retorted almost contemp 
 tuously. 
 
 "Very good, sir," continued the valet. "Will 
 you have a little something to drink, sir, before 
 you have your breakfast? How about a split of 
 champagne? Mr. Allyn is very apt to take one, 
 sir; I can bring it in a jiffy." 
 
 The idea of drinking champagne on an empty 
 stomach before he had got out of bed also staggered 
 Tom s mental equipment. Rather than permit 
 the valet to suspect, however, that it was not his 
 habitual custom, he would unhesitatingly have 
 risked the results, had it not so happened that 
 champagne at that particular moment was the 
 last thing in the world that he desired. 
 
 "No," he said, "I don t think I want anything 
 to drink. What have you got for breakfast?" 
 
 "We have tea, coffee, and chocolate," replied 
 the valet glibly. "Melons, oranges, blackberries 
 and raspberries, peaches and plums, cereals, eggs, 
 bacon, chicken hash, lamb chops, sausages, hot 
 rolls, corn bread, toast, white and graham and 
 health bread. Would you kindly mention what 
 you would prefer?" 
 
 Tom tried to remember as much of the menu 
 as he could. It dimly suggested an apotheosized 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 189 
 
 "Beefsteak, codfish and cream rare or well done" 
 the prehistoric menu at the "Mountain Home 
 House"! 
 
 "Oh," he yawned, "bring me a piece of melon, 
 corn bread and coffee, and some scrambled eggs 
 with sausages and bacon. That will hold me for 
 a while, I guess. You haven t got any griddle- 
 cakes have you?" 
 
 "I can ask the chef to make some for you," said 
 the valet. "But we haven t them ready, sir." 
 
 "Never mind. Don t bother," remarked Tom 
 affably, not inclined to be captious, yet at the same 
 time desirous that the valet should know that if 
 he did not see what he wanted he was quite ready 
 to ask for it, that all these little things were part 
 of his ordinary daily life, and that he was quite 
 to the manor born. 
 
 The valet disappeared and Tom continued to 
 doze luxuriously. Taken altogether, his recollec 
 tions of the night before, though somewhat con 
 fused, were by no means unpleasant. His experi 
 ences with Allyn had been negative, and in spite 
 of his chagrin at discovering Mrs. Wingate in the 
 darkness of the Welfleets lawn with another man, 
 the significance of this incident now seemed less 
 marked than it had at the time. Frankly, he told 
 himself, there was no reason why she should not 
 have been there. It was hardly natural to suppose 
 that he was her only admirer. Yet she certainly 
 had given him encouragement! More encourage 
 ment than he had ever received from Evelyn ! Lulie 
 
1 90 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 might be said almost to have openly made love 
 to him. As he lay with half-closed lids he could 
 hear again the soft murmurs of her voice with their 
 almost plaintive cadences, see the wistful, alluring 
 glances from those entreating eyes. Was she a 
 little devil, after all ? Parradym had said so. Allyn 
 had practically admitted as much. Well, what 
 if she was? He chuckled with lazy satisfaction. 
 He had certainly made a success of it at the Wei- 
 fleets dinner-dance ! Quite the lion ! All the girls 
 had seemed to want to meet him; all the men had 
 been cordially deferential. He was going to make 
 good at Newport, socially at any rate, and if he 
 did make good ! There was no end to it, apparently. 
 And part of the good time was knowing girls like 
 Lulie Wingate. How ravishing she had looked 
 yesterday afternoon sitting in the shade of the 
 hedge by the sun-dial. He wondered if she made 
 a practice of coming to the spot at the same hour 
 each day. If so, they would have a trysting-place. 
 His mind rapidly took long leaps. The fact that 
 she was a married woman would make a liaison 
 perfectly safe. He wondered when he should next 
 see her. How far his thoughts might have taken 
 him is problematical, but at that moment the valet 
 returned carrying a tray covered with a fine damask 
 cloth and loaded with china and shining silver. 
 From the closet he produced two scarlet cushions, 
 which he tucked behind Tom s back, and a small 
 white wooden rack with folding legs, which he super 
 imposed across the lower half of Tom s body. Then 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 191 
 
 he placed the tray upon the rack and stood at at 
 tention. 
 
 "If you miss anything, I will be just outside, 
 sir," and he departed, leaving the door slightly 
 ajar. 
 
 Tom surveyed the contents of the tray with 
 gratification. The china was of the most trans 
 parent sort, decorated with a delicate tracery of 
 birds and flowers. In front reposed the half of a 
 luscious hothouse melon, and beside it a small 
 tumbler of orange juice. Flanking the melon was 
 a plate of cereal and beneath a silver cover he found 
 the most deliciously prepared scrambled eggs, in 
 which were embedded tiny sausages not much larger 
 than cigarettes. There was also a saucer contain 
 ing rolls of sweet butter interspersed with slivers 
 of cracked ice, a plate of smoking corn muffins, and 
 a silver dish of crisp bacon. The finishing touch 
 was supplied by a box of Turkish cigarettes and a 
 silver alcohol-lamp already lighted. 
 
 Tom poured himself out a full cup of aromatic 
 coffee, tempered it with hot milk through a silver 
 strainer, and added a touch of oozy cream. Having 
 devoured everything edible upon the tray in the 
 space of about six minutes, he leaned back with his 
 head against the scarlet cushions and lit a cigarette. 
 "The height of luxury!" Now he knew what it 
 was! It was to recline among down cushions in 
 your pajamas at eleven o clock in the morning, 
 smoking a Turkish cigarette "made" (so the box 
 stated) "from selected leaves grown in sunny corners 
 
1 92 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 of the walls of Smyrna, " with the breath of a rose- 
 garden floating in through the window, with your 
 stomach lined with sausages composed "of little 
 pigs and choice spices/ scrambled eggs studded 
 with truffles, mushrooms, and chicken livers, and 
 hothouse melons at three dollars apiece ! 
 
 "I wonder what Bridget would say if she could 
 see me now," remarked Tom to himself. 
 
 Then he added to the door in a loud and some 
 what bullying tone: "Hello there! Is my bath 
 ready?" 
 
 Tom, togaed like some old Roman, emerged 
 grandly from his bath, and reclining in a cosey 
 chair and smoking another cigarette, meanwhile 
 graciously permitted himself to be shaved by the 
 valet, whom he discovered to be not only an adept 
 in arts of haberdashery, but a manicure, masseur, 
 and barber as well. In fact, he inspired such con 
 fidence that Tom would not have hesitated to con 
 sult him upon any difficult point in Newport eti 
 quette or ethics which might have presented itself. 
 Still assisted by this elegant professor of the physical 
 humanities, he arrayed himself in his flannels, se 
 lected a tie sporting the colors of the "Woolsack," 
 and condescended to glance at the morning papers. 
 In spite of his delicious breakfast and the fact that 
 he had already smoked three exceptionally strong 
 cigarettes, he felt a curious sensation of enervation 
 a craving for something, he did not know exactly 
 what and he poured himself out a Scotch and 
 soda. 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 193 
 
 Quaffing this, he strolled windowward, to discover 
 Parradym smoking his pipe in the rose-garden be 
 low upon the same seat that Lulie had occupied 
 the afternoon before. 
 
 "Good morning/ said Parradym without look 
 ing up. "Come down and take a sun-bath with 
 
 me." 
 
 There was something almost uncanny in the 
 way this fat bachelor could apparently see out of 
 the side of his head. 
 
 "There s a staircase just outside your door 
 to the left," he added. 
 
 "All right," answered Tom, for although he was 
 now convinced that he did not like Mr. Parradym 
 he nevertheless found it difficult, if not impossible, 
 to withstand the man s peculiar if possibly "ma 
 licious animal" magnetism. He selected a couple 
 of mild cigars, filled his cigarette-case, and descended 
 to the rose-garden. He d get some points on the 
 social game, anyhow on the Selbys, possibly. A 
 rosy young patrician, he sauntered across the grassy 
 circle to Parradym, who moved over to make room 
 for him. 
 
 "Great day!" remarked Tom with a touch of 
 patronage. He, at any rate, was no sycophant. 
 "What s the book?" 
 
 Parradym held it up with a smile. It was a limp- 
 covered copy of "Epictetus." 
 
 "Oh, Lord!" growled Tom, "you might as well 
 read the Bible and be done with it!" 
 
 "A chapter or two of Ecclesiastes wouldn t be 
 
194 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 a bad introduction to Newport/ nodded the older 
 man. "I don t suppose you re ready for it yet, 
 though. In a year or so you ll be chasing around 
 looking for your lost appetite. By the way, how 
 was it this morning?" 
 
 "Fine!" snapped our hero. 
 
 Parradym looked at his watch. 
 
 "I wonder how it will be for lunch," he chuckled. 
 "Let a case-hardened old materialist give you a 
 tip. Don t blunt the edge of your appetite at the 
 start ! There s nothing on earth to beat a canvas- 
 back cooked and served in its own gravy. You 
 can have em here all you want just like every 
 thing else. But if you eat too many of em, why, 
 they taste no better than boiled fowl. Curious 
 and disappointing, too!" 
 
 "I haven t tasted any yet!" 
 
 "No, they re out of season, of course! Not that 
 that makes any difference here ! But it s the same 
 way with anything hothouse melons, for example. 
 Eat em three times a day for a week and you can t 
 bear to look one in the face. And yet, unfortunately, 
 it s so easy to get used to having them that one 
 isn t happy without them. Therein lies one of the 
 great problems. Question : Is it better to eat melons 
 and miss them if you don t get them, or never to 
 eat them and not to miss them? When you can 
 answer that tell me, will you?" 
 
 "I ll take a few melons, please." Tom stretched 
 luxuriously. 
 
 "That s what I thought," said Parradym. "Well, 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 195 
 
 it s easy to get them here. They fall right off the 
 vines into your lap. Melons, plums, and peaches ! 
 Only don t tell too many people, old chap. Don t 
 spoil the market! Let s keep it to ourselves!" 
 
 Tom flushed uncomfortably. He didn t care 
 to be classed by Parradym with himself. But he 
 recognized the truth of the latter s earlier remarks 
 about satiety. In fact, the dinner at the Welfleets 
 had been an astonishing example of it. 
 
 "Guess you re right," he answered. "I suppose 
 that dinner I went to last night cost at least a 
 thousand dollars, but I didn t see any one there 
 who seemed to enjoy eating it. I should say you 
 might just as well have given them scrambled 
 eggs." 
 
 "Better!" said Parradym. "Everybody here 
 is suffering from ennui old and young alike ! Even 
 the children are bored to death. Your true social 
 Newporter has no appetite for anything. They 
 have exhausted everything the world has to offer 
 in the way of legitimate amusement and luxury. 
 Did you ever happen to think that that was the 
 real danger of this sort of life? There s nothing 
 legitimate straight decent that anybody has 
 any taste left for, so they go after the other thing." 
 
 "Do you really mean that?" demanded Tom. 
 
 "It s as true as most generalities," replied Par 
 radym. "Anyhow, that s the tendency. But"- 
 and he slapped Tom on the knee "that s where 
 you and I come in, my boy! These millionaires 
 must have entertainment somebody to talk to, 
 
196 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 and their daughters have got to marry. And the 
 supply of presentable males doesn t equal the de 
 mand. Just look around you during the next few 
 weeks ! Anything in trousers that isn t deaf, dumb, 
 and blind, or that hasn t actually served a term in 
 State s prison, can live here for nothing on golden 
 plover and champagne, and when the season is 
 over can spend the whiter cruising round the Med 
 iterranean on somebody s yacht, and afterward 
 marry the daughter, and the yacht, too. Really, 
 it makes me blush !" 
 
 "I should think it would !" said Tom disgustedly. 
 Parradym s bald cynicism almost made him ill. 
 
 "But the free ride is a dangerous game in some 
 ways," continued his new friend without noticing 
 Tom s tone. "And the first thing to look out for 
 is the possibility that in a very short time you may 
 not get any more fun out of it yourself that you ll 
 be tired of the same scenery. Don t eat too many 
 melons ! Go easy on the plover ! Don t get bored, 
 because it s your stock in trade to be interest 
 ing and interested. And then, my dear young 
 man, you may be able to hang on like myself to a 
 ripe old age, still moderately enjoying the dinners, 
 the dances, the clambakes, the yachting, and the 
 house-parties that will be furnished to you free 
 gratis for nothing, simply because the lonely rich 
 have got to have companionship. And then, too, 
 when you are quite ready, you can take your 
 pick of a hundred really beautiful and highly edu 
 cated young girls and go to live on the Riviera on 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 197 
 
 papa s money. Well, what do you think of the 
 prospect?" 
 
 Tom turned on him in righteous scorn. 
 
 "I think you re a cold-blooded old snob!" he 
 snorted. 
 
 Parradym laughed softly. 
 
 "Good!" he muttered under his breath. "Keep 
 that up ! It s what I am, all right." 
 
 And then Tom felt a sense of contrition. Par 
 radym was an older man and a gentleman of a sort, 
 and he had no right to insult him. 
 
 "I beg your pardon!" he said stiffly. "I should 
 not have spoken as I did. I apologize." 
 
 "Bless your dear soul! What for?" asked Par 
 radym. 
 
XVII 
 
 A STEAM-LAUNCH, manned by two sailors and a 
 petty officer in uniform, carried Tom magnificently 
 to where lay the Pauline. His head was still weary 
 from the strain, intestinal and nervous, of the pre 
 ceding evening, so that the glare of the sunlight 
 on the white sails of the yachts hurt his eyes, and 
 he shaded them with his hand and looked through 
 his ringers. The Selbys was one of the biggest of 
 all of them, apparently. She lay apart from the 
 others, her nose pointing seaward, smoke curling 
 from her yellow funnels, and her propellers lazily 
 churning the water at her stern into a swirling 
 caldron. Tom could see a couple of officers stand 
 ing on deck in anticipation of his arrival. It made 
 him feel rather queer, almost afraid. It was the 
 same sensation which he had experienced on his 
 arrival at "Beausejour," only it was intensified. 
 The yacht was clearly waiting for Mm. Without 
 him it would not put to sea. He was, in truth, the 
 controlling factor in the movements of it and of 
 its owner for that day. Instinct told him that 
 somehow this moment was big with fate. What 
 made him a factor? And if the yacht hung upon 
 
 his arrival to-day, might it not to-morrow, and 
 
 198 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 199 
 
 next year, and forever? It would be grand to have 
 a yacht. Yet, why not? 
 
 "All ready, sir," said the bos n, touching his 
 cap, as the launch swept up to the gangway. 
 
 Tom arose and, clutching the tassellated white 
 cord which ran between the highly polished brass 
 stanchions, climbed up the ladder. 
 
 "Glad to see you, Mr. Kelly! Come right 
 aboard !" 
 
 A stout gentleman in blue coat and white flannel 
 trousers, his yachting cap ornamented with a large 
 gold monogram, was greeting Tom with an ex 
 pansive smile and outstretched hand. The cap 
 tain, beside him, saluted respectfully. 
 
 "Hope you can put up with a family-party," 
 apologized the owner of the yacht, who seemed 
 anxious to give entire satisfaction. "But there s so 
 much fuss and feathers on shore, we like to get off by 
 ourselves occasionally an have a nice, quiet time." 
 
 Mr. Selby repeated this with a stereotyped bland- 
 ness which suggested the use of the formula on 
 previous occasions. Without waiting for any reply 
 he turned to the officer at his left: 
 
 "All right, captain. Just a little run so s to get 
 us back about five o clock. Be sure an don t go 
 anywhere it s rough." 
 
 Then he laid his hand familiarly on Tom s 
 shoulder and led him toward the stern. 
 
 "Mrs. Selby and my daughter are back there 
 waitin for you," he said. "We ll have lunch as 
 soon s the yacht gets started." 
 
200 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 Tom was conducted by his host to where the 
 cabin superstructure gave place to a roomy sweep 
 of deck half piazza, half drawing-room for there 
 were red-cushioned wicker easy-chairs, a large ta 
 ble covered with books, magazines, and games, 
 and an upright piano fastened beside the com- 
 panionway. It was clear, even to Tom, that the 
 owners of the yacht were not accustomed to go 
 "where it was rough." A large, rotund lady was 
 knitting in one of the chairs, and Pauline arose 
 from another, looking charming in a white linen 
 sailor-waist wide open at the neck. She shook 
 hands with the same cordial definiteness which he 
 had noticed the evening before, and presented Tom 
 to her mother. 
 
 "This is Mr. Kelly, mamma," she announced, 
 quite as if she had said, "This is my new watch, 
 mamma," and was giving "mamma" a chance to 
 express her opinion of the new acquisition in spite 
 of the fact that that opinion was wholly imma 
 terial to the owner. 
 
 Mrs. Selby wore habitually a distrait expression 
 suggesting doubt and anxiety doubt as to exactly 
 what was done by the best people under similar 
 circumstances and anxiety lest her execution should 
 fail to conform to the proper standards. This re 
 sulted in her temporizing with herself, which con 
 veyed a curious impression of indifference with 
 inferiors of coldness. But essentially neither was 
 Mrs. Selby a snob nor was her husband, for they 
 made no pretenses, and simply offered to pay spot 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 201 
 
 cash for what social goods they purchased as they 
 went along. As they paid handsomely, demanding 
 no discounts, they were accepted for what they 
 were and, on the whole, were more liked than not; 
 and as Pauline was undeniably a catch an only 
 child, Selby s interest in his canning business being 
 rated at several millions she went everywhere 
 and was the dictatrix of a circle of her own, of which 
 the two most willing slaves were her own father 
 and mother. 
 
 "Oh," said Mrs. Selby, hardly looking at Tom, 
 "Pauline was telling us quite a lot about you. 
 You re the tennis-player, ain t you?" 
 
 "A kind of one!" answered Tom genially, feel 
 ing that after all there was not much difference 
 between these people and those he had known in 
 his earlier boarding-house days. 
 
 "He s going to win the national championship!" 
 declared Pauline. "That is, if he doesn t get gas 
 tric poisoning first," she added as a steward ap 
 proached and announced that luncheon was served. 
 
 "Well," Selby assured him, "your insides won t 
 get hurt from what you eat on this yacht. The 
 truck is delivered on board fresh every morning 
 and so is the milk. No ptomaines here. And all 
 the dry stuff is put up in glass at my own factory. 
 Come on down!" He turned to the companion- 
 way. 
 
 "Papa always lugs in the factory, if he can!" 
 laughed Pauline defiantly. "I don t blame him. 
 It s a model one, the kind they send excursions of 
 
202 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 public-school children over. You see it advertised 
 everywhere. Hot water and serve you know 
 that sort of thing. But it s just as good a business 
 as boys suits, or pickles, or ink, or plumbing fix 
 tures. They re all represented here in the smartest 
 circles. And as far as the old families go, most of 
 them before 1860 were 5/a^e-traders, they tell me." 
 
 She had a naive candor coupled with a sense of 
 humor that was delightful to Tom, and he felt that 
 she was a "good sport," with no pretenses, even if 
 a trifle "bossy." But if the meal was hygienic it 
 was none the less elaborate, and gave not the slightest 
 indication of any of the ingredients being put up in 
 glass or anything else. All the Selbys ate heartily 
 of melons, clear soup, salmon, roast beef, salad, 
 and dessert, and after everything else was served 
 Mrs. Selby consumed three large peaches which 
 she directed the steward to "cut up" for her. 
 
 "I always did like peaches," she explained, with 
 her mouth full of them. "Now, strawberries I 
 like them, you know, but they don t like me ! And 
 Mr. Selby can mix them up with lobster or cream 
 or anything and never mind them at all." 
 
 She wiped her lips minutely on a damask nap 
 kin and arose with some difficulty. 
 
 "Now don t stay down here smokin all this 
 beautiful afternoon!" she remarked. "Why don t 
 you have your cigars on deck?" 
 
 "Oh, leave them alone, mamma," expostulated 
 Pauline. "Only don t be long!" she ordered. 
 
 "Give us a chance to get to know each other," 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 203 
 
 said Mr. Selby, offering Tom a heavy cigar shaped 
 like a miniature submarine. "We ve got all the 
 afternoon to talk to you. Have a lick ure ? " 
 
 Tom declined the liqueur. He was intensely in 
 terested in the Selby menage. Here, apparently, 
 was a family of which the parents were the plainest 
 of plain people, without culture of any sort what 
 ever, who were received as a matter of course in 
 a society which he had always supposed to be the 
 most select in America, and by contrast with which 
 the smart set of the Back Bay seemed almost 
 provincial. Unquestionably, his own mother was 
 more of a real lady than Mrs. Selby. His mother 
 had peculiarities, but Mrs. Selby was what was 
 it exactly? lifeless. There didn t seem to be any 
 spark in her magneto. She was always running on 
 first speed grinding heavily along as if it were 
 hard work. Yet, his mother had never known any 
 body, outside of her church circle and her own 
 dingy aunts and cousins, save the casual acquain 
 tances of their peripatetic summer vacations; while 
 Mrs. Selby had dukes to dinner. Her husband con 
 fided this. In spite of that fact Tom lit the sub 
 marine with a slight sense of doing his host a favor. 
 Selby paid for his dukes, and he was paying for 
 him, Tom Kelly. 
 
 "Yes," remarked Mr. Selby, "Pauline wanted a 
 yacht, so I picked this up second-hand. Just 
 exactly as good as new, too! But Newport ain t 
 Newport without the water. Give s you some 
 thing to do in the afternoon, y understand ? I 
 
204 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 can t learn to play golf. I ve tried half a dozen 
 times, and the damn game gets on my nerves. Pau 
 line can play it, though! She s a fine girl, Mr. 
 Kelly." 
 
 With a certain sense of indelicacy Tom agreed 
 with enthusiasm that Pauline was indeed a fine 
 girl. Her father seemed pleased. Yes, he assured 
 his guest, Pauline was a smart one. She could 
 always wind her old dad around her little finger 
 get anything she wanted out of him, or her mother 
 either! Well, they hadn t anything to do except 
 to make her happy. And she certainly did seem 
 to be having a good time of it dancing-parties 
 every night, picnics, and so on. She arranged all 
 their dinners, paid the calls, attended to everything ! 
 " Executive" that was what she was. He only 
 hoped she wouldn t marry one of those puny little 
 Johnnies you saw so many of. But it wasn t at 
 all likely. Pauline wouldn t get fooled. You could 
 bet your life on that. She d want a real man, not 
 a wooden figure to drape clothes on. A few of those 
 foreign fellers worried him at times they were good- 
 looking and had a way with em. Some of the women 
 went crazy over them. But he didn t propose to 
 have any damned dago for a son-in-law. He wanted 
 his girl to marry an American and stay right here 
 at home where she belonged. Oh, she d take care 
 of herself, all right. 
 
 Tom was embarrassed by such frankness, a re 
 flection of which was clearly perceptible in Pauline 
 herself. He didn t want the old man s confidences. 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 205 
 
 He liked his daughter and his yacht and his cigars, 
 but it stopped there. It was evident that he Tom, 
 the erstwhile worm possessed something which 
 money couldn t buy a pearl without price which 
 could be exchanged at his own terms. Of course, 
 no decent fellow would sink to the level of marry 
 ing for money but if he did ! As Selby burbled 
 on, Tom could not efface a vision of himself sitting 
 there in state alone with Pauline her father and 
 mother safely ashore bound for foreign climes, 
 a winter on the Riviera, up the Nile, among the 
 Ionian Isles a king and queen, able to do as they 
 liked, by virtue of the inexhaustible flow of dividends 
 from the Selby factory. It was like their adver 
 tisement: "Just add hot water and serve!" Pau 
 line was one of Parry s ripe peaches, ready and 
 waiting to drop off the bough into his mouth. He 
 needn t even take the trouble to raise his hand 
 she d drop of herself. " Several millions !" A mil 
 lion was forty or fifty thousand a year ! "Several" 
 might be anywhere from three to six or seven, over 
 a hundred thousand dollars a year, anyhow ! And 
 all his, practically, to do what he liked with ! His 
 heart beat excitedly at the humiliating thought. 
 He could smoke cigars like that all the time ! And 
 Pauline! He told himself that any man would 
 be proud to have her for a wife. He felt sure that 
 he could love Pauline, and he d give up his life to 
 making her happy. He followed Mr. Selby up the 
 companion way in a sort of delirium. "A hundred 
 thousand a year! A hundred thousand a year!" 
 
206 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 kept echoing in his ears. A word from him, a dis 
 creet period of hesitation, his name would be in 
 the papers, and he would be " holding three million 
 dollars in his arms." He d heard Catherwood get 
 off that remark to Pennington, who had been danc 
 ing with her the night before. Pennington? Come 
 to think of it, that sly little Sam had been very at 
 tentive, perhaps had his own plans in regard to the 
 Selby fortune. But imagine a girl like Pauline 
 marrying Pennington ! 
 
 These thoughts were hovering in the background 
 of Tom s mind as he followed Selby up the com- 
 panionway and out upon the immaculate deck. 
 The yacht was headed up the coast toward Martha s 
 Vineyard and, while there was a refreshing breeze, 
 the sea was calm and smiling. An occasional gull 
 followed in their wake, at times almost motion 
 less; then, giving a few lazy strokes, rising for a 
 moment only to settle down with a squawk and 
 flutter upon some invisible morsel. Overhead the 
 sky was a soft, even blue, and all about them gleamed 
 the sails of other yachts. Tom had the enjoyable 
 sensation of perfect physical well-being. The weari 
 ness in his head had vanished, his new clothes fitted 
 him easily, and his feet in their rubber-soled shoes 
 of white buckskin were deliciously comfortable. 
 He could not help recalling the time less than 
 fifteen months ago when he had always been 
 dressed uncouthly, his trousers and sleeves too short, 
 his cuffs frayed, his neckties faded, his shoes too 
 tight and run down at the heels. And now he was 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 207 
 
 as smart as anybody smarter, in fact! And the 
 change had been brought about merely by the 
 spending of a little money. The fact that he still 
 owed most of the money gave him only slight un 
 easiness a tiny fly in the amber of his self-satis 
 faction that could easily be managed, he felt sure. 
 Allyn would lend him a hundred or so without a 
 thought, if he asked him; he could easily make a 
 plausible excuse. He could not bring himself to 
 speak to his mother about the money; she would 
 think he was going straight to perdition. Perdi 
 tion ? If he was, it was a pleasant place to go to ! 
 
 "Well, here we are!" 
 
 Mr. Selby, lighting another cigar, sank down 
 into one of the wicker chairs. His wife looked up 
 placidly from her knitting. 
 
 "I don t see how you could stay down in that 
 stuffy place!" she said. 
 
 Tom went over to where Pauline sat with a book 
 in her lap. 
 
 "Don t you want to show me over the yacht?" 
 he asked. 
 
 "Yes, why don t you show Mr. Kelly around?" 
 inquired her father. "It s a good chance now, when 
 your mamma and I are feelin sort of sleepy." 
 
 "Come along!" cried the girl, throwing down 
 her book. "What do you want to see first?" 
 
 "Everything! I want to see how it would feel 
 to own one," answered Tom. 
 
 "Oh, you ll own one some time," she asserted with 
 conviction. "Every successful man owns a yacht." 
 
208 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 "How do you know I ll be successful?" he in 
 quired. 
 
 "Oh, I don t know exactly," she laughed, "but 
 I have that sort of feeling about you. I m sure 
 you ll get whatever you want." 
 
 She had led him as if by deliberate intention to 
 a cushioned nook in the shadow of the bridge. 
 
 "I can see all I want of the yacht from here," 
 declared Tom. "What a bully place to sit!" 
 
 "Isn t it? I had it fixed up just for myself. 
 Mamma calls it Pauline s Paradise. It s a won 
 derful place for dreaming." 
 
 "Do you ever see visions?" he asked innocently. 
 
 "I m afraid one could hardly call them that. 
 They are just purely material expectations to 
 morrow, next week, next month." 
 
 "You like the life here, then?" 
 
 "I love it!" she enthused. "Isn t it the best 
 we have in America? Doesn t it represent every 
 thing that everybody wants, the best society, the 
 smartest people, the biggest yachts, the most de 
 licious cooking, the finest sport bathing, tennis, 
 golf, riding, sailing? What more could you ask?" 
 
 Her words, in sharp contrast to those of Lulie 
 Wingate the night before, were uttered with ob 
 vious sincerity. 
 
 "And yet some people " he began 
 
 "Oh, I know there are people," she answered 
 quickly, "plenty of them right here in Newport, 
 who are always crying Vanity of Vanities, all is 
 Vanity. They talk about the frivolity of the life 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 209 
 
 here and the terrible extravagance and all that, 
 while they are getting all they can out of it them 
 selves. In nine cases out of ten it s nothing but 
 a pose. It is mostly a case of sour grapes with the 
 people that criticise Newport. All of them, if they 
 had the chance, would be glad enough to have big 
 places of their own and live exactly as all the rest 
 of us do. The people that pretend that it s wrong 
 to like what other people have are either too old 
 to enjoy themselves or have something the matter 
 with them chronic indigestion usually. Now, I m 
 a perfectly normal person, so far as I can see, and 
 I just love all of it everything, from having a 
 French maid down to lobster Newburg," and 
 looking straight at Tom she smiled a confident, 
 joyous smile which seemed to embrace the entire 
 universe of sparkling waves and white sails, in 
 cluding Tom himself. 
 
 Tom smiled in return. The more he saw of 
 Pauline the more he liked her direct vision, the 
 straightforward outpouring of her thoughts, and 
 he felt ashamed of the sordid possibilities which 
 had suggested themselves to him below. She was 
 a glorious young creature, a perfect exemplification 
 of the Roman ideal of "Mens sana in cor pore sano." 
 She seemed in true accord with the vast sweep of 
 robin s-egg blue above them, the distant circle of 
 the horizon, the onward rush and leap of the yacht s 
 prow against the slight roll from the Atlantic, and 
 the languorous southwest wind that was drawing a 
 smoky pall over the Rhode Island shore and the 
 
210 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 far-lying islands of Buzzards Bay, shrouding them 
 in Turner-esque mystery and already paving a 
 path of glory for the declining sun. Didn t instinct 
 tell him that she was right? Was there not in the 
 harmony of nature around him all that the spirit 
 craved ? 
 
 "Well/ he answered in happy agreement, "it 
 all seems mighty good to me. I ve never known 
 much about these things, but I ve noticed that 
 those who haven t had them lose no time in getting 
 them when they can. I suppose that if money 
 didn t really mean a lot men wouldn t strive for 
 it." 
 
 "Of course they wouldn t," she replied with as 
 surance. "And the game is worth the candle, too. 
 You read a whole lot about it being silly for men 
 to stay down in their grimy offices all day working 
 just for more money. Well, they re not working 
 just for money. They re working for the future 
 of their children, of themselves, and their business, 
 and because they can t help working. It s a law 
 of nature. It helps develop the country. It makes 
 progress. It s the American spirit. It s instinctive 
 to want to be happy and comfortable and to 
 work, too. If you follow your instinct, you ll be 
 all right." 
 
 Pauline delivered this with an air of finality and 
 Tom felt relieved that he had her permission to 
 follow his instinct. 
 
 "Oh," he replied, in an admiring tone, "that s 
 easy." 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 211 
 
 But all the same he was not so sure in his own 
 mind. There would be a great old time going on 
 if people just ran around following their instincts. 
 He already had quite a respect for Pauline s force 
 and intelligence, but her philosophy somehow seemed 
 rather too simple. 
 
 "However," he added, "instinct doesn t guide 
 everybody right. There are lots of rotters every 
 where. This place must be full of them of people 
 on the make. " 
 
 "Yes," she admitted, "it is. And a girl has to 
 keep her eyes open here unless she wants to be 
 fooled. But most of the social crooks are quite 
 obvious." 
 
 "What do you mean by social crooks?" 
 
 "The people who want to get something for 
 nothing," she retorted. "You d be surprised at 
 the number of them. Little German and Russian 
 counts, some of them real and some of them bogus; 
 pretentious people who come here simply to trade 
 on their acquaintance with smart people in other 
 places, fortune-hunters and social climbers gen 
 erally." 
 
 "But you don t regard all social climbing as ob 
 jectionable, do you?" he queried, involuntarily 
 thinking of mamma and papa Selby on the lower 
 deck, "because after all that is merely following 
 the instinct for change and development of which 
 you ve been speaking." 
 
 "Exactly," she answered. "But there are social 
 climbers who climb over the dead characters of 
 
212 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 their friends, and who live by false pretenses. I 
 think social ambition is as legitimate as any other, 
 provided that it is pursued by honest methods." 
 
 It came to Tom that Pauline was herself the 
 high priestess of ambition. Backed by her own 
 "instinct," her capacity, her money, the man who 
 became her husband might go far. And she, for 
 her part, liked Tom the better the more she saw 
 of him, or rather talked to him, for he was a recep 
 tive listener and had tact enough to ask questions 
 which she would be glad to answer. Thus the hours 
 flew by, Pauline becoming more and more convinced 
 that Tom was the most attractive and the wisest 
 man she had met in her whole life. 
 
 Down in their cosey wicker chairs Mr. and Mrs. 
 Selby were spending an unusually quiet and com 
 fortable afternoon. 
 
 "Those two seem to find plenty to talk about," 
 he remarked, yawning and closing his novel. "I 
 sneaked up to that paradise of Pauline s a few 
 minutes ago and they were arguing away to beat 
 the band." 
 
 "I hope they weren t quarrelling," said his wife. 
 
 "I don t think so," he answered. "Pauline was 
 just holding forth as usual. You know how she is 
 when she gets talking about the universe." 
 
 "Yes, I know," agreed Mrs. Selby. "I can t 
 understand a word she says, but I suppose it means 
 something to her." 
 
 "Let s hope so at any rate," responded her hus 
 band. "Anyhow we mustn t let them get tired 
 of each other." 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 213 
 
 It was at about this moment that the yacht 
 shifted her course slightly eastward and began an 
 almost imperceptible roll. 
 
 Pauline and Tom ensconced in the red-cushioned 
 bower below the bridge observed the bow hesitate 
 for an infinitesimal fraction of a second, stagger, 
 and plunge downward. A sheet of white spray, 
 iridescent in the slanting beams of the sun, leaped 
 upward and fell with a swish upon the forward 
 deck. 
 
 "Gracious!" cried Pauline, "mother will be 
 frightened to death. She always is, if it s the least 
 bit wet." 
 
 At or about the same moment the steward re 
 ceived a call from the after-deck. 
 
 "You go up and tell the captain," directed Mr. 
 Selby somewhat indignantly, "to turn right around. 
 I ordered him particularly not to go where it was 
 rough." 
 
 "And after that, you can serve tea," added Mrs. 
 Selby. 
 
 The sun hung like a huge red disk over Newport 
 Harbor as the Pauline passed under the fort and 
 slowly moved to her anchorage, and the old town, 
 the islands, the golf-links, and the distant shores 
 of Narragansett Bay were bathed in a golden sheen 
 that slowly changed first to bronze and then to 
 purple. The surface of the water was like a softly 
 undulating mirror, and the air was filled with a 
 confusion of noises, the panting of engines, the 
 creak of oars, the rattle of blocks, the jingle of 
 pianos, the voices of women singing, and all the 
 
214 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 rest that go to make up the bustle and clatter of 
 a harbor. 
 
 Pauline bade her friend good-by at the head of 
 the gangway. The acquaintance begun at Mrs. 
 Welfleet s was progressing almost as favorably and 
 as rapidly as Pauline had intended that it should, 
 and she had already secured from Tom a promise 
 to take a short cruise with them after the tennis 
 tournament should be over. 
 
 Tom descended to the tender, took his place in 
 the stern sheets, the bell rang, the tiny propeller 
 stirred the water, and the launch shot shoreward. 
 
 When some distance from the yacht Tom turned 
 and lifted his hat to Pauline, who waved her hand 
 in reply. He was pleased with the afternoon and 
 with himself. Pauline was certainly an extraor 
 dinary girl, a corker. She had a mind like a steel 
 trap. She would be able to take care of herself 
 anywhere. Again his thoughts wandered to the 
 Ionian Sea and the Golden Horn. How about 
 instinct? 
 
 Why shouldn t he? It would be natural for any 
 man to fall in love with a girl like Pauline ! And 
 in place of the pungent smell of the incoming tide 
 he breathed the distant odors of Araby and the 
 strange scents of the mysterious East. He was a 
 long way from Newbury Street and from the Moun 
 tain Home House, as he stepped on shore at the 
 Yacht Club landing. 
 
 On board the yacht Pauline walked slowly back 
 from the gang-plank to the piano, and idly struck 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 215 
 
 a few chords as she hummed the words of one of 
 Schumann s love-songs. 
 
 "It s been a real satisfactory afternoon," said 
 Mrs. Selby to her husband. 
 
 "Yes," he answered. "I like that Mr. Kelly. 
 He seems like a very sensible young fellow." 
 
 "Pauline likes him too," added his wife, as if 
 that settled it. 
 
XVIII 
 
 WHEN Tom, on awakening the following morn 
 ing, found that the valet was somewhat slow in 
 answering the bell he experienced a distinct feeling 
 of irritation. What business had the fellow not 
 to be on his job ! But presently the man could 
 be heard running along the hall and King Tom 
 generously forgave him. He had acquired even in 
 those brief sixty hours in Newport a vast con 
 fidence. He had made a discovery. It was not 
 the fact that he had been well introduced, or that 
 he was a member of an aristocratic Harvard Club, 
 nor yet that he was the coming national champion 
 to which he owed his seemingly instantaneous 
 success! These things neither singly nor collec 
 tively, he told himself, could have achieved his 
 conquests such as they were of Lulie Wingate 
 and Pauline. No, it was something beyond and 
 above all that his own personality! In this big 
 world in which he was no inconspicuous figure the 
 Scotts were, after all, nothing very wonderful and 
 he chuckled condescendingly the old "Wool 
 sack" was nothing at all! Whoever had even 
 heard of it ! A college was just a college, and one 
 college club was like another. But one man was 
 
 216 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 217 
 
 not like another! There must be " something 
 about him." 
 
 This conviction was confirmed by the further 
 discovery that by no means all of his youthful as 
 sociates possessed the same assurance. Even Ray 
 mond Dwight who in his earlier college years 
 had seemed to Tom to occupy an unapproachable 
 pinnacle of social distinction the president of the 
 class "a little bit off the top" of the cream of 
 Bostonian exclusiveness who had turned up in 
 Newport on a visit, seemed diffident and some 
 what awkward. He even acknowledged to Tom 
 that all these ultrafashionable folk made him sin 
 gularly uncomfortable. They were different some 
 how from the people one had known on the Back 
 Bay. 
 
 On the privacy of Bailey s Beach during a post- 
 natatory cigarette he confided to his club-mate that 
 it made him feel like a cat in a strange garret not 
 knowing who they all were at home he knew who 
 everybody was and his next-of-kin were, who his 
 ancestors had been, and who, in all probability, his 
 heirs, executors, assigns, and even his descendants 
 would be but here ! There were so many of them 
 that you could never hope to find out who the really 
 right people were at all ! It was disquieting noth 
 ing fixed or settled about it! Those Selbys, for 
 instance ! Imagine their getting in on the North 
 Shore never! He envied Tom his ability to get 
 on with everybody. Really Tom had developed a 
 lot and everybody said he was cutting quite a dash ! 
 
218 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 Tom did not deny these soft impeachments and 
 gave his friend, without saying so, the impression 
 that some fellows developed later than others and 
 that some were naturally fitted for wider social ex 
 periences. He admitted he got along all right a 
 fact due probably to his broader point of view. 
 Boston was a pretty small place, after all, even if 
 it was socially impeccable. For example, he had 
 dined on Beacon Street at a formal dinner where 
 they had not served champagne. Raymond would 
 have to admit that such a thing was impossible in 
 a really cosmopolitan circle. As to the Selbys, they 
 were in a process of " transmogrification" he had 
 seen the word in a magazine. The next generation 
 would be socially impregnable. Even the oldest 
 families of Boston had been in trade originally 
 china merchants and that sort of thing. The Sel 
 bys were all right solid Americans a little near 
 the factory as yet but the old man had ten mil 
 lion. Raymond shrugged his shoulders but later 
 Tom took an elfin satisfaction in meeting him on 
 one of Pauline s yachting-parties. 
 
 Gradually as the weeks passed Tom began to 
 assume a severely critical attitude toward these 
 new friends of his whose dinners he deigned to eat. 
 Had there been fewer roses in his path he would 
 doubtless have been less censorious, but people 
 took him nearly at his own valuation as they 
 usually do everybody and his own valuation of 
 himself was at that moment exceedingly high. He 
 had in fact just learned what a swan he was. His 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 219 
 
 late mornings in bed at the Scott s, when after one 
 of those royal Dresden or Sevres breakfasts he 
 indulged in day-dreams slightly narcotic with the 
 statuesque form of the Grecian lady at precisely 
 the most alluring distance, were enervating and 
 afforded an undesirable opportunity for self-mag 
 nification. Instinctively he compared himself with 
 the other men whom he met and was constantly 
 meeting to his own advantage. There was, he 
 told himself, a very good reason why all these women 
 liked him. He was a well-born, cultured Bostonian 
 (he eliminated his mother s rather dingy origin), 
 a graduate of Harvard and a member of a chic club 
 there, athletic and at least moderately good-look 
 ing, knew everybody, was a crack tennis-player and 
 likely to become national champion well, what 
 more could anybody want? Were the girls much 
 to blame if they cottoned to him? On the con 
 trary, would it not have been strange had they not 
 done so? 
 
 Tom was ignorant of those many charming New 
 port homes whose owners had never been invited 
 to a "monkey dinner," and would not have gone 
 to one had they been asked. He did not meet any 
 of those courtly old men and women, who having 
 lived in most of the capitals of Europe, have chosen 
 Newport as their residence and constitute a social 
 circle which has no golden key. 
 
 Unfortunately, however, the life that he led 
 soon seemed good to him. Was it not what every 
 body was working for? Was it not the ne plus 
 
220 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 ultra? And it was his already at twenty-two! 
 He could begin now to-morrow, if he chose 
 where others left off! There was Pa Selby, for 
 instance, who had worked all his life putting soup 
 and things in tin cans and who now at sixty-five 
 was just letting up! What had he got out of it? 
 Nothing but the chance of having Tom condescend 
 to marry his daughter! The other old men were 
 just the same. They had slaved like pups to get 
 a lot of money and now they didn t know how to 
 spend it or had spent it so freely that there was 
 nothing left for them to buy! They were, so to 
 speak, dog-tired of everything. During the next 
 month Tom went to many entertainments where 
 the struggle to escape ennui was only too apparent. 
 And just as if these people knew that it would be 
 fatal ever to stop and inquire whether or not they 
 were really enjoying themselves they rushed madly 
 from one thing to another in the hope that in the 
 mere multiplicity of amusements they could evade 
 boredom. 
 
 At the end of his first week Tom had only seen 
 his hostess four times once on the afternoon of 
 his arrival, once at lunch, and twice when the family 
 entertained at dinner. The rest of the time he was 
 away on yachting-parties, picnics, teas, lunches, 
 dinner-dances, and at a host of minor entertain 
 ments. It was a curious sort of visiting, but it 
 was agreeably independent. It was as if he had 
 suddenly come into a wonderful inheritance of 
 his title to which he had previously lived in ig- 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 221 
 
 norance. Everybody seemed bent on giving him 
 the best possible time, seemed to think him a prince 
 of good fellows! Older men called him familiarly 
 by his first name. Snobbish mammas with mar 
 riageable daughters eagerly sought him out. Even 
 his classmates and the men of his own age treated 
 him with a certain deference. What wonder that 
 the erstwhile shabby and disgruntled Tom began 
 to feel that all this was his due and that the world 
 lay at his feet to kick if he chose. 
 
 And since nothing succeeds like success and among 
 bluffers he who bluffs best is king, Tom achieved for 
 a brief season a succes fou that opened every door 
 to him and completely turned his ignorant young 
 head. With this came an access of assurance on 
 his part that caused his friend Allyn untold amuse 
 ment. For finding that to assert virtue was, in 
 this society, tantamount to having it, Tom, adroitly 
 seized every opportunity to advertise himself, in 
 a good-natured sort of way, confidently laying 
 claim to an inherited social position in Boston, 
 and a manner of living that would have astounded 
 Bridget and Aunt Eliza had they heard of it. 
 
 It is an ancient and common failing. Even in 
 the old coffee-house days Addison speaking of the 
 army in the Spectator makes Captain Sentry la 
 ment that in a profession where merit is placed in 
 so conspicuous a view, impudence should get the 
 better of modesty. The same thing always has 
 been and still is true of the world at large and smart 
 society in particular. The unscrupulous take ad- 
 
222 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 vantage of the fact that honest folk are slow to 
 attribute evil motives to the actions of others. 
 They know that people are, on the whole, good- 
 natured, easy-going, and lazy, and that they can 
 safely presume upon these qualities at least to the 
 extent of making statements of fact the accuracy 
 of which will never be questioned. 
 
 So Tom, besides being known as a handsome, 
 good-humored, clean-limbed young Yankee (which 
 he really was), was soon surrounded by a nimbus 
 of glory to which he was totally unentitled, arising 
 from the fact that he was reputed to be of a lineage 
 distinguished even in Boston everybody persuaded 
 himself that he had always heard of the Kellys 
 solidly backed by the wealth and culture of the 
 Back Bay, and with a future foreordained to great 
 ness by virtue of the influence of his connections. 
 
 Though Tom s attitude of condescension toward 
 the Newport world at large included, with the ex 
 ception of Lulie and Allyn, even the Scotts, it never 
 occurred to him that to administer their compli 
 cated menage must require somewhere an observ 
 ing eye and a directing brain of no ordinary ca 
 pacity. It would have astounded him to learn that, 
 placing little reliance upon the honesty and as 
 siduity of professional housekeepers, Mrs. Scott de 
 voted as much detailed attention to the manage 
 ment of "Beausejour" as Mrs. Kelly did to her 
 modest establishment on Newbury Street. Yet 
 it was a fact that while Tom lolled above in the 
 mornings in drowsy luxury, his rather prim and dis- 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 223 
 
 tinctly conventional hostess was down betimes 
 overseeing the work in house and garden and en 
 forcing rigidly the economies of lavishness. In an 
 office somewhat less elaborate than her husband s 
 "den," at a desk upon which stood a formidable 
 alignment of morocco-bound note-books, she in 
 terviewed the butler, chef, and head gardener, and 
 issued her orders for the day. She knew the exact 
 number of quarts of milk and cream, the number 
 of pounds of butter, the amount of wine consumed 
 daily within her gates. Even the number of cigars 
 placed in Tom s bedroom was a matter of record. 
 She was the daughter of a small shopkeeper in 
 "upstate" New York, and had later become a 
 teacher of singing and a drawing-room vocalist in 
 the metropolis. Few of her acquaintances or even 
 of her friends had any knowledge of this period of 
 her career, for she had caught Mr. Scott young and 
 eliminated all trace of Skaneateles by a prolonged 
 sojourn in Europe. She had no illusions, knew the 
 cost of everything, including her own present social 
 position, and was quite satisfied to pay the price. 
 She would have been astonished but not horrified 
 to learn that she was considered snobbish and cold 
 blooded. On the whole, she regarded both these 
 qualities as rather desirable. She admired her son 
 and daughter as "smart," but judged Allyn a fool 
 for drinking and Lulie stupid for getting herself 
 talked about. Otherwise she was quite content 
 with them. Mr. Scott was satisfactory. She had 
 no complaints to make about him, and he, poor 
 
224 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 man, after his original uxorial error in mistaking 
 Labrador for Senegambia, accepted the lady as 
 he found her and devoted himself to being a gentle 
 man, in which line at the age of sixty-one he had 
 achieved no little success. He could read and speak 
 French, German, and Italian, and had a collection 
 of mildly improper anecdotes in each language. 
 He was a student of art, a connoisseur in wines, 
 and widely read in the modern literature of most 
 countries. 
 
 He was modest, abstemious, and his waistcoat 
 had a concavity unfamiliar to Newport. He al 
 lowed others to do the talking, took his orders from 
 his wife, and conducted himself both in public and 
 private after the manner of a well-behaved curate 
 of the established church. Like his spouse, nothing 
 escaped his eye or his nose, yet not even in the 
 privacy of the connubial couch did either of them 
 discard the pose which they had assumed. They 
 were always comme ilfaut. Like a certain celebrated 
 lady in a famous divorce-suit, her husband was re 
 puted never to have seen her so to speak in 
 dishabille. They were to each other as they were 
 to the world. But they played at living and acted 
 very stupid parts, so that they seemed much duller 
 than they really were. 
 
 Tom, in his blindness, took them for a pair of 
 fools, for neither seemed at all familiar with those 
 matters of ordinary knowledge which he was con 
 vinced every lady and gentleman should know, and 
 he not infrequently put them right. Mr. Scott 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 225 
 
 particularly appeared to find much that was stim 
 ulating and entertaining in Tom s conversation, and 
 often laughed quite unexpectedly in a mild and 
 gentlemanly way at what he said. The longer 
 he stayed at "B cause jour" the more Tom won 
 dered that two such idiots could get along as they 
 did, and one evening in a corner of the billiard- 
 room over a glass of the Scott port he confided as 
 much to Parradym. Under the influence of its 
 fragrant old bouquet he launched forth into a gen 
 eral indictment of the individuals composing the 
 society about them. Many, he admitted, were 
 clever people enough, but the majority, he declared, 
 were too stupid to live, or, if they were not stupid, 
 utterly mannerless. This last comment was based 
 almost exclusively upon the fact that one distin 
 guished lady had that afternoon at the Casino 
 shown no marked enthusiasm at meeting Tom. 
 
 "It s inconceivable to me, my dear fellow," 
 he exclaimed, "how these old dodos here in New 
 port can be so dull. It s a wonder they ve got any 
 money left to live on, it would be so easy to get it 
 away from them. And the women are so disgust 
 ingly rude ! I m surprised that you an intelligent 
 man can find any pleasure in this society!" 
 
 He clicked his tongue thickly in a superior way 
 and poured out another glass of the port. He had 
 already consumed two cocktails, three glasses of 
 champagne, one of claret, and a Scotch and soda, 
 in consequence of which everything seemed very 
 far away and rather blurred, and what he had to 
 
226 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 say to Parry very, very important, indeed. He felt 
 kindly toward Parradym. He was a good old sort, 
 after all. He felt kindly toward everybody, really 
 what he was saying was more theoretical than 
 anything else. He would have slapped old man 
 Scott on the back if he d been there he was really 
 quite a good sort, too, even if he was more or less 
 of an ass. 
 
 Parradym looked at him contemplatively but 
 good-naturedly. 
 
 "In the golden age of childhood, my dear fellow," 
 said he, "we look upon all Olympians, and in fact 
 everybody but ourselves, as fools. They do such 
 ridiculous things! They re always washing and 
 dressing up instead of having a good time playing 
 around in the mud. And they surround us with 
 all sorts of arbitrary and absurd rules and laws, 
 about what to eat, and when to go to bed, and how 
 not to get drowned just as if anybody wanted to 
 get drowned!" 
 
 " Zactly!" nodded Tom benignly. 
 
 "Later we pass into another stage," continued 
 Parry. "We see some of the reasons for these sup 
 posed absurdities and we discover that it takes 
 brains and ability to make a living. But life still 
 seems very simple, and our estimates of people 
 are of the snap-shot variety and generally made 
 without allowances. We re strong and well, and 
 to us everybody must be strong and well. People 
 who do not at first blush conform to our standards 
 of intelligence or manners are uncompromisingly 
 put down by us as fools, idiots, or ruffians." 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 227 
 
 "Oh, no!" protested Tom in a detached sort of 
 way. "Tha s too strong, you know!" 
 
 Parradym shook his head. 
 
 "There s nothing so cruel as the judgment of 
 youth. It has no verdict with extenuating cir 
 cumstances. A person is either good or bad. Peo 
 ple are either heroes or cads. We are ready to at 
 tribute the basest of motives for the most trifling 
 acts. We demand of our parents, our sisters, our 
 brothers, and our friends that they should all be 
 as perfect as the peerless princes and princesses of 
 our fairy-books." 
 
 Tom laughed. Parry was right. No one ought 
 to be held to any such standard as that. But his 
 friend s face had taken on a serious expression. 
 
 "Yet as we go on," said Parradym with some 
 earnestness, "we learn that nobody is either good 
 or bad. And that anybody who has been obliged 
 to live in this funny old world for thirty or forty 
 years generally has had some sense knocked into 
 his head, at least so far as his own self-interest is 
 concerned. We are ready to believe that strangers 
 or casual acquaintances are quite ready to insult 
 or snub us on the slightest provocation, whereas 
 men of the world discover very early in the game 
 of life that there is nothing so expensive as un 
 necessary rudeness, and this lesson is soon learned 
 by everybody who mixes much in society. In point 
 of actual fact very few people are deliberately rude. 
 Those that are generally turn out to be genuine 
 fools, of which, of course, there is a scattering still 
 about. But I think I m right in saying that the 
 
228 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 only safe assumption to work on is that the or 
 dinary person whom you meet, whether man or 
 woman, is probably very much like other people, 
 neither a hero nor a villain, anxious to appear to 
 the best advantage before everybody, quite willing 
 to go half-way, not disposed to conscious rude 
 ness, ready to return favor for favor, and more 
 than able to look out for him or her self so far as 
 dollars and cents are concerned. The man whom 
 you regard as a stuffed shirt/ simply because he 
 looks like a boiled cod or an unboiled rabbit, will 
 probably end by making a fool of you. He can t 
 have nosed around for half a lifetime without hav 
 ing learned to go in when it rains or to keep out of 
 copper stocks. He looks like a cod because his 
 forebears looked like em. Not because he s got 
 anything the matter with his head or his heart. 
 Most people are moderately honest, nobody ab 
 solutely so. Diogenes job, as some one has said, 
 is still open/ But take people by and large and 
 they ll give you back just about what you hand 
 them. And there s usually a reason if they don t 
 they may not have seen you, or heard what you 
 said, or they may be absent-minded. Just because 
 Smith doesn t bow to you on Fifth Avenue isn t 
 any real ground for supposing that he has a mortal 
 grudge against you or wishes to make you an enemy 
 for life. That is arrogating to oneself too much 
 prominence in Smith s cosmos. Instead of trying 
 to insult you, he is probably wondering where he 
 put his opera- tickets " 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 229 
 
 Parradym chuckled and laid his hand affection 
 ately on Tom s knee as the others rose to join the 
 women in the drawing-room. 
 
 "Be a little easier on em, my boy!" he whis 
 pered. 
 
XIX 
 
 IT was half after one the next morning when 
 Tom, the last guests having left the house, made 
 his way with some difficulty toward the royal suite. 
 He had had a very pleasant evening, and while he 
 had been somewhat noisy in talking to the women 
 after dinner, he had not been conspicuously al 
 coholic in a gathering where entire sobriety was 
 the exception rather than the rule. People were 
 good-natured with Tom because most of them liked 
 him and because he was rather the fashion. It is 
 doubtful if at this period any kind friend would 
 have taken it upon himself to hint that his con 
 duct was not exemplary, however extreme it might 
 have been. But it was due to the number of brandies 
 that he had consumed, and not to the natural ama- 
 tiveness of his disposition, that he presumed to hold 
 the hands of several young ladies including Pau 
 line s somewhat longer than the occasion de 
 manded. Nevertheless, as he told himself, he had 
 "got away with it." He had already discovered 
 by experience that only the bold had favor with 
 the fair. The bolder you were the better, partic 
 ularly with the older women. "If the women are 
 older, you have to be bolder," he told Allyn. He 
 had learned this from observing the success of a 
 
 230 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 231 
 
 certain young scion of the local nobility a most 
 unattractive person whose head was a couple of 
 sizes too large for the rest of his body and whose 
 features resembled those of the late Mr. Bunny. 
 Yet in spite of his physical limitations this peculiar 
 youth had an astonishing vogue with the opposite 
 sex. 
 
 "All you need is la confiance !" explained the 
 pimply Lothario with a superior grin. 
 
 This philandering apparently occupied a large 
 portion of the working hours of the men in society, 
 particularly after five o clock in the afternoon. 
 Every Jack had his Jill, even if both were fully 
 aware that the arrangement was only temporary. 
 Trial engagements if not trial marriages were 
 obviously popular. One baby-blue-eyed virgin of 
 nineteen boasted to Tom that she was engaged to 
 eight "men" all at once. It seemed to be quite 
 customary to be engaged to two or three, and the 
 intercourse between the sexes at Newport con 
 sisted largely of a sort of amorous dallying, half 
 jocular and half serious, coloring everything with a 
 romantic glamour. If a young man was not frankly 
 pursuing some girl or married woman, he was 
 viewed as peculiar, to say the least, and treated as 
 the legitimate object of suspicion. Every incentive 
 possible was offered to the love game, and Tom, tri 
 fling with passion along with the others, discovered 
 to his satisfaction that his pursuit of Lulie Win- 
 gate of the guest for the daughter of the house 
 where he was visiting was almost de rigueur. Thus 
 
232 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 he found it easy to devise meetings with her, for 
 which she showed no disinclination. Always, how 
 ever, their conversation had flowed along the lines 
 of that first evening when she had assumed the be 
 coming pose of a misunderstood wife and daughter. 
 It was a charming pose, albeit Tom knew it to be 
 one. But he liked it none the less and played up 
 to her spiritedly with his recently acquired gloss 
 of culture. Yet this evening, when unexpectedly 
 they met at the turn in the long corridor of the 
 bachelor wing, he somehow felt that the time had 
 come to put things on a less distantly sentimental 
 and more intimate and vital footing. Had he been 
 less exhilarated it is doubtful if this " caveman 
 stuff" as he afterward described it would have 
 appealed to him. He would, at any rate, have con 
 sidered before he acted as precipitately as he did. 
 As it was, he did not ask himself what on earth 
 she could be doing there at nearly two o clock in 
 the morning. He only knew that he was face to 
 face with her in the stillness of the night alone in 
 a remote part of the house. That did occur to him. 
 She was coming quite rapidly along the hall as if 
 she had been somewhere, and the red silken hang 
 ings reflected the glow of the shaded electric lamps 
 along the walls, and gave her cheeks a transparent 
 crimson tinge that by contrast with the black storm- 
 clouds of her hair made her skin delicately ex 
 quisite like a picture he had once seen of a girl 
 shading a candle with her hand. She hesitated 
 and almost stopped at sight of him, then came on 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 233 
 
 toward him with a smile. Tom, emboldened by 
 his evening of success, forgot that she had never 
 yet allowed him to touch her hand. He saw only 
 the crimson, translucent color of her skin and the 
 smouldering fires in her black eyes. 
 
 He was happy and more than a little drunk, be 
 lieved that Lulie liked him and that she would go 
 quite a way with him if she had the chance and 
 well! he felt la confiance. He did not ques 
 tion the propriety under all the circumstances of 
 his making rather violent, if not forcible, love to 
 this experienced daughter of his hostess. If the 
 things he had heard about her were all true ! She 
 had not been immune by any means from the after- 
 dinner attacks of the scandal specialists male 
 and female. And had he not caught her himself 
 in the dark with a man? So he sidled up and told 
 her that he loved her merely, as if he had forgotten 
 to tell her so at dinner. There was a vast difference 
 between this declaration and that other of less than 
 two months ago made to Evelyn under the elms 
 of Class Day that declaration which had elicited 
 no response from the recipient. But in one respect 
 at least this was a much more genuine affair. He 
 had never had any real confidence that Evelyn would 
 consent to be his wife, but he did have a certain 
 amount of confidence that Lulie might consent to 
 have an affair of some sort with him. And his 
 literary sense of the proprieties which had led 
 him to propose to Evelyn now rushed to the sup 
 port of his desire and impelled him at least to essay 
 
234 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 the conquest of Lulie. "The time, the place, and 
 the girl !" All that sort of thing. Every suggestive 
 influence of the so-called comic-opera stage of twenty 
 years ago was stirring in him at that moment. Why, 
 if he didn t kiss her, what a chump she would think 
 him ! She probably got kissed all the time. He d 
 kiss her, anyway. 
 
 Probably many a decent girl has been similarly 
 cornered and, perhaps, escaped only by yielding 
 partially to force of circumstances. But Lulie 
 had had a short lifetime of lovers, alcoholic and 
 otherwise. Therefore, when Tom pushed her against 
 the scarlet curtains into the embrasure of the win 
 dow, she neither shrieked nor dealt him a blow in 
 the face. On the contrary, she laughed more or 
 less good-naturedly, squeezed the hot hand which 
 had seized hers, and said chaffingly: 
 
 "Heavens, Mr. Kelly! How ardent we sud 
 denly are!" 
 
 She stood half-hidden, her marble-white arms 
 and neck gleaming softly amid the silken hangings, 
 a teasing smile on her lips. How slim and round 
 and soft those arms looked to Tom ! He wanted 
 to press his lips to them, to wind them about his 
 neck. Nature was getting the upper hand with 
 this somewhat intoxicated young gentleman. 
 
 "I m not joking, Lulie!" he panted. "I mean 
 it ! Lulie little girl I love you !" 
 
 He tried to clasp her to him but the curtains in 
 terfered, and stepping away, clear of them, she 
 turned angrily upon him. 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 235 
 
 "Let me by!" she cried, with a metallic ring in 
 her voice. "You re crazy! Let go of me! Let 
 me by do you hear?" 
 
 Tom gave a brusque laugh. Of course she had to 
 pretend to be angry. He threw both arms about her. 
 
 "Kiss me first!" 
 
 She shrank from him and struggled to disengage 
 herself. 
 
 Then, finding this to be impossible, she faced 
 him again and clutched the friendly hangings. 
 
 "Some one might come along here any moment! 
 Please let me go!" she begged in a whisper. 
 
 "Then kiss me!" 
 
 He had torn her left hand from the curtain and 
 had crushed both her arms tightly to her sides. 
 He would have his way with her no matter what 
 happened. She had ceased to struggle, but had 
 thrown her head as far back as she could beyond 
 the reach of his lips. And then at the very climax 
 of this interesting scene Tom suddenly found 
 himself without any inspiration to go on with it. 
 Desire had blazed in him as he had broken down 
 her defenses, but now that he was inside the en 
 closure, for some curious reason he had lost the 
 spirit of the adventure. Yet this was no time to 
 play the hesitating lover. He must go on with the 
 motions. 
 
 "I love you, Lulie," he heard himself repeat, 
 reaching for her lips. 
 
 "Let me go!" she repeated hoarsely. "For the 
 love of God!" 
 
236 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 He experienced a moment of self-reproach. Sup 
 posing she really didn t want his caresses? Suppose 
 he was forcing himself on her? That would be a 
 fine performance ! There was something also de 
 cidedly awkward in their position, for holding her 
 helpless as he was, her weight almost caused him to 
 lose his equilibrium. He didn t know exactly what 
 to do. If he kissed her, they would probably go 
 over all at once with a crash! He had ceased to 
 want to kiss her that way. He didn t like forcing 
 people. She would probably hate him forever- 
 more. Nobody liked to be man-handled, least of 
 all a high-spirited girl like Lulie. No, she could 
 go ! Instinctively he released his right hand and 
 steadied himself with the curtain. He was now 
 holding Lulie only with his left arm, and she could 
 easily have escaped. He expected her was wait 
 ing for her to do so. He looked down into her 
 face. Her eyes were shut, her lips slightly parted. 
 By Jove ! She was a pretty girl ! In another in 
 stant his lips were upon hers. 
 
 They were in this very definite position when a 
 masculine voice became suddenly audible behind 
 them. Lulie thrust herself quickly from him. 
 
 "Let me go ! What do you mean !" she shrieked 
 savagely at the unfortunate Tom. 
 
 "I beg your pardon!" said the voice. 
 
 Tom pulled himself together as best he could. 
 A tall man clad in a vicuna dressing-gown and 
 smoking a cigarette was standing about ten feet 
 distant. He was clean-shaven, well-built, athletic. 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 237 
 
 Blind fury took possession of Tom. What busi 
 ness had this fellow to spy on them? He d show 
 this peeper how to behave himself ! Lulie had fled 
 down the corridor and disappeared. 
 
 "Mind your own business!" snarled our hero. 
 
 "I beg your pardon," repeated the gentleman 
 in the dressing-gown. "But, you know, it is my 
 business in a sort of way." 
 
 "How is it your business, I d like to know?" 
 demanded Tom in a bullying tone. 
 
 "Well, you see," politely continued the other, 
 "you seemed to be kissing my wife. I may be mis 
 taken, of course. But I was quite distinctly of that 
 impression. Come now, weren t you kissing her?" 
 
 Tom was too taken aback to make any reply. 
 So this was Wingate ! In a flash he recognized the 
 man he had seen lighting his cigar in the garden 
 with Lulie. What on earth was Wingate doing at 
 the Scotts house ? And why in Heaven s name had 
 he been such an idiot as to tackle Lulie that way 
 before finding out how she came to be there? He 
 was entirely sober by now. Mr. Wingate was re 
 garding him with slightly amused surprise. 
 
 "I don t think we ve met!" he remarked. Then 
 he added curiously: "Anyhow, I think you re just 
 a little drunk, you know. Well, she s an all-fired 
 pretty woman, my lad good luck to you ! And 
 good night!" 
 
 Tom did not reply to Mr. Wingate. On the 
 contrary, he most ungraciously left him standing 
 by the fatal crimson curtains which had indirectly 
 
238 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 been the cause of the whole trouble. He wanted 
 a drink and he wanted it quick with ice in it. He 
 entered his room, filled a tall glass with Scotch, 
 cracked ice, and carbonic, and threw himself at full 
 length on a chaise longue. 
 
 Here was a nice mess, no matter how you looked 
 at it ! He had been caught with the goods ! To 
 morrow Wingate would probably smash his face. 
 But why hadn t he done so then and there? Be 
 cause of Lulie, probably. By George ! it really 
 was hard on her. She wasn t to blame at all, but 
 she never would be able to make her husband be 
 lieve it. In fact, it had not occurred to Tom to at 
 tempt to put in a defense for her. But then, nothing 
 had occurred to him ! He was a slob that was 
 just what he was! He lit cigarette after cigarette 
 and gradually his thoughts straightened out. Of 
 course to-morrow he d have to go and exonerate 
 Lulie and apologize to Wingate. Then he d have 
 to apologize to Lulie! Wingate had been rather 
 decent on the whole. Why had he tried to kiss 
 Lulie, anyway? He kicked his heels together dis 
 gustedly, lying on the couch. 
 
 Just at that moment the door was opened cau 
 tiously and Parradym appeared. Tom felt rather 
 glad to see him. The "Little Brother of the 
 Rich" had evidently been for a stroll before going 
 to bed. 
 
 "Well," he remarked, "as my friend Monte Flagg 
 says, nothing exceeds like sexcess!" 
 
 "I suppose you think that s funny!" retorted 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 239 
 
 Tom gloomily from the couch. "If you only knew 
 the mess I m in you d think it was tragic! Sex- 
 cess ! Oh, Lord!" 
 
 Parradym squirted himself out a half -glass of car 
 bonic without ice. 
 
 "Oh, I know I met Wingate in the hall. Says 
 he caught you kissing his wife or vice versa 
 he doesn t quite seem to know which." 
 
 "He needn t worry," answered Tom. "I m the 
 criminal." 
 
 "There s a excuse me a rather humorous side 
 to it," continued Parry. "The fact is that our 
 young friends had just had a sort of reconciliation 
 at the Welfleets garden-party, the final result of 
 which was that Lulie promised to be very, very 
 good, and Jim swore never, never to be naughty 
 again, and thereupon madam invited son-in-law 
 over here to stay for a while. He came this after 
 noon and has the c gold-and-black room next to 
 mine. Lulie, of course, remains in her own suite 
 in the main part of the house." 
 
 Tom writhed internally with chagrin. He d put 
 his foot in it now, all right. No wonder Lulie was 
 mad. Just patched it up with hubby and caught, 
 apparently, in flagrante delicto at two in the morn 
 ing ! And what would Wingate do about it ? Lulie 
 would never forgive him never ! Well, what dif 
 ference would that make if she was going back 
 to her husband? However, suppose her husband 
 wouldn t take her back after what had happened? 
 What would be his position in the matter? A jolly 
 
240 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 ass he had made of himself! "Sexcess"! Bah! 
 He uttered the word contemptuously under his 
 breath so that Parradym heard it. 
 
 " Exactly," nodded the philosopher, lighting a 
 small claro cigar. "A jolly mess and a jolly ass! 
 But, frankly, I regard this as a rather lucky inci 
 dent for you. Suppose, for example, Lulie and Jim 
 hadn t just made up, and when you met her in the 
 hall she hadn t been scared to death that some one 
 would see you both, eh? The incident mightn t 
 have ended in the hall, d y see?" 
 
 Tom flushed crimson. The conversation seemed 
 bordering on the indelicate. He didn t mind that 
 sort of thing about other people, but it was very 
 different when you were the subject of it. More 
 over, for some unknown reason, he wanted Parry s 
 good opinion. He felt abashed and humiliated, for 
 he had certainly done Lulie a great wrong as it 
 had turned out. He had not only insulted the 
 daughter of his hostess, but he had compromised 
 her in the eyes of her husband. Parry s opinion 
 that it might have been worse was small consola 
 tion at the moment. 
 
 "You know there s an awful lot of rot written 
 and talked about this sex business," said Parradym, 
 taking a sip of carbonic. " Don t mind my men 
 tioning it, do you? But, you see, I ve drifted around 
 now for a good many years for more than twice 
 as many as you ve existed and I ve used my eyes 
 besides talking with all kinds of people. Take my 
 word for it, the emphasis on sex is the grossest ex- 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 241 
 
 aggeration in human affairs. Use your common 
 sense. It isn t mating- time all the year round !" 
 
 "Seems to be here!" answered Tom. 
 
 "A sort of artificial spring induced by cham 
 pagne, French novels, and risque conversation." 
 
 "A sort of hothouse ?" suggested Tom, reviving. 
 
 Parradym eyed him sharply. 
 
 " You re feeling better!" he announced. "But 
 let me take this chance to speak seriously. Sup 
 pose all the poets and playwrights and novelists 
 suddenly began to sing and write about the glories 
 of Scotch whiskey or saddle of mutton. We ve 
 drunk whiskey and we ve eaten mutton or our 
 friends have. But they don t dream of either every 
 night or spend their days planning to get them. 
 Look around. Most people are able to live quiet, 
 regular lives without coveting their neighbors 
 wives. The sex impulse like the impulse to eat 
 is a real one, of course, but that it occupies the 
 thoughts of most men or women the greater 
 part of the time is a rank fiction. It isn t as strong 
 in the average person as the impulse of a hungry 
 man for food. Mind you, I m talking about physical 
 desire. It doesn t begin to be as influential in our 
 lives as the loyalty of a man to his wife or his affec 
 tion for his parents, or his love of country. But 
 the way they talk here and in the cities you d be 
 led to suppose that people thought of nothing else. 
 It isn t so. It s largely a literary fiction which, 
 unfortunately, is accepted as true by playgoers and 
 novel readers. 
 
242 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 The real France isn t the France of the Folies 
 Bergere any more than Rector s or the Cafe Martin 
 is the real New York. But mob psychology is such 
 that self-respecting people will go into a theatre 
 and for the time being, at any rate, accept an en 
 tirely fictitious standard of morality as their own. 
 You can go to a musical show any night in the week 
 and find straight-laced old maids snickering at jokes 
 that by daylight would chill their blood. Staid 
 old papas harbor the mad idea that the only proper 
 way to treat a chambermaid is to chuck her under 
 the chin until they try it. And so it goes. It is 
 the thing here, for example, to pretend to be jaded 
 and worldly wise. You may be a confirmed tee 
 totaller, but you must talk vintage champagnes. 
 You may be a bred-in-the-bone Puritan, but you 
 must ape the amativeness of the comic-opera tenor, 
 and hint at imaginary conquests. How many of 
 these people do you suppose actually experience 
 any stimulus from the contiguity of a member of 
 the other sex? Not one in twenty! And, if they 
 did, how many decent young girls or young fellows 
 would permit such thoughts to linger in their minds ? 
 You hear all kinds of stories about the people in 
 society, but my experience is that very few of em 
 are true. In a word, my son, don t base your con 
 duct on an artificial theory, an imaginary idea 
 that everybody is really on the loose. They re 
 not! Moreover, the majority of em wouldn t 
 want to be, even if they could have the chance. 
 This by way of caution in case you might attempt 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 243 
 
 an osculatory adventure with shall we say Mrs. 
 Welfleet?" 
 
 "God forbid!" groaned Tom. 
 
 "That s a good youth!" smiled Parry. "Now 
 to-morrow make your peace if you can with 
 Mrs. Wingate." 
 
 "How about Mr. Wingate?" 
 
 "Hell not bother you. Indeed, I fancy that he 
 almost regards himself as being under a debt of 
 obligation to you." 
 
 "Tome! How?" 
 
 "Well, you see, Jim has never been able to get 
 anything very definite on Lulie up to this time, 
 and now you have come forward to supply, as it 
 were, a long-felt want." 
 
 Tom did not understand. 
 
 "How would you like to play the role of co 
 respondent in the divorce court?" asked Parry, 
 chuckling. "Good night. Pleasant dreams!" 
 
 Tom gazed somewhat aghast at Parry s retreat 
 ing coat-tails. Could the old fellow really have 
 spoken seriously? Corespondent in a divorce suit? 
 It wasn t by any means impossible. His eyes 
 reverted to the statuesque form of the Grecian 
 Annette Kellerman upon the wall. And what had 
 he got out of it? Nothing at all. He had forcibly 
 kissed a lady who had just left her husband after 
 a friendly call. He had incurred her permanent 
 enmity probably, and in all likelihood would have a 
 fight on his hands, besides, with her stronger if not 
 better half. A good evening s work! "Wingate 
 
244 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 versus Wingate." He could see his name featured 
 in the paper at the head of a column. What would 
 his mother say? 
 
 His mother! He had not thought of her for a 
 month. What had made him think of her? Had 
 anything made him think of her? He had an un 
 easy sort of feeling that something had. He re 
 membered now there was a letter from her lying 
 unopened on the side-table. 
 
 Rather carelessly Tom, with the gold-enamelled 
 paper-cutter slit the familiar envelope. It was 
 small and square, of cheap paper, bought by the 
 pound. On that polished table amid the heavy silver 
 it looked almost like a letter from a servant. Tom 
 had always objected to having his mother use such 
 cheap stationery, but she had refused persistently 
 to buy any other. The paper was particularly of 
 fensive to him because of the crude embossed rep 
 resentation of the Boston State House in the upper 
 left-hand corner. Yet the hand in which the common 
 envelope was addressed was fine and well formed 
 almost like steel engraving. Tom admitted as he 
 looked at the envelope that his mother s hand 
 writing was certainly very nice. 
 
 Her " penmanship" was, in fact, the sole, sur 
 viving remnant of her polite education as a young 
 lady of refined antecedents in Chelsea. It was not 
 without a stab of remorse that Tom opened the 
 letter. He was too honest not to admit that he 
 had grossly neglected her. But his mother s very 
 self-effacement, her extraordinary ability even at 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 245 
 
 her somewhat advanced age to take care of herself 
 without assistance, had blinded him, and was still 
 blinding him, to the truth of the situation, which 
 was that she was an old lady who ought never to 
 have been permitted to go off alone, and who should 
 have had the most constant and tender care. But 
 she had always managed to get along, and Tom 
 took it for granted that she would continue to do 
 so indefinitely. However, he felt a little badly, 
 as he unfolded her letter, that he had not written 
 to her. 
 
 MACNAUGHTON COTTAGES, 
 
 BETHLEHEM, NEW HAMPSHIRE. 
 MY DEAR SON: 
 
 It is a long time since I have heard from you, but I sup 
 pose you are working very hard getting ready for the tennis 
 tournament. [He made a wry mouth.] I came up here over 
 a month ago with Bridget, who went back next day to her 
 sister s at Nantasket. I have a very nice room here with 
 good board for twelve dollars per week. But it seems very 
 expensive to me. Usually I have got very good accommo 
 dations for ten dollars, and at the Mountain Home House 
 we only paid seven dollars. So I shall probably go home 
 somewhat earlier than I expected, especially on account of 
 having to pay Bridget s fare. I have not been feeling quite 
 as well as last summer and there is nobody staying here 
 that I know, so I shall not mind going home so much. I 
 take walks and look at the mountains, and sometimes in 
 the evenings there is a lecture or concert. There is a gentle 
 man and lady with their little daughter who sit at my table 
 and who seem quite nice. I think their name is Smith. 
 Now, Tom, do write to me, for I am very lonely when I do 
 not hear from you. I miss you very much. The older I 
 grow the more I miss you when you are away from me. 
 
246 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 But I do not worry, because I know you are a good boy and 
 take Christ for your example. I hope you do not forget 
 to read a chapter every day and to ask for His guidance. 
 God bless you, Tom. 
 
 Your loving mother, 
 
 CAROLINE MARIA KELLY. 
 
 Tom closed his eyes and bit his lips. The letter 
 had been lying there two days unopened ! Poor 
 mother! She was asleep now probably in a little 
 wooden bed in a tiny hotel bedroom, with a straw 
 carpet and rickety wash-stand, with servants tramp 
 ing around over her head. She oughtn t to go 
 travelling alone like that. Supposing she got sick? 
 As soon as the tournament was over he would go 
 up and stay with her. But even as he made the 
 resolve the vision of the fly-specked ceiling of a 
 hotel dining-room swam before his eyes. " Beef 
 steak codfish and cream rare or well done!" 
 His eye wandered around the luxurious appoint 
 ments of the room in which he was reclining, at 
 the cigars and cigarettes, the aerated waters, the 
 magazines, the silken bed, the Grecian beauty! 
 Once more he thought of Lulie and could feel her 
 slender, pliant body in his arms, her soft lips be 
 neath his kiss. Perhaps she hadn t minded so 
 much, after all ! Her struggles had not been very 
 violent. What a tantalizing girl she was ! Al 
 ready he had forgotten all about his mother in the 
 thought of the other woman. 
 
 He undressed slowly and tumbled into bed, where 
 he lay wide-eyed in the graying light. Suppose 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 247 
 
 there was a scandal, where would that leave him 
 with Pauline? The old Selbys were nothing if not 
 respectable were sticklers for respectability. He 
 realized suddenly and with great distinctness that 
 a liaison with a married woman, however pretty, 
 would be a poor substitute for a marriage with a 
 charming millionairess like Pauline. At any rate, 
 he should have made sure of Pauline first ! He 
 writhed at the consciousness of the fool he had 
 made of himself. He must patch the thing up some 
 how with Wingate eat crow. He mustn t lose 
 Pauline ! And yet it was not of her but of Lulie 
 that he dreamed when he finally fell asleep. 
 
 It was nearly noon when he awoke and the ceil 
 ing above his head was bathed in ripples of sun 
 light, so resembling the dancing catoptric globules 
 which he had watched from his crib as a child that 
 unconsciously his eyes sought as well for the steel en 
 graving of the Madonna and Child and the worsted 
 motto of "Look unto me and be ye saved " that 
 had hung upon the walls of his mother s bedroom 
 in Newbury Street. Had he dreamed that he had 
 grown up and gone to college and visited at a place 
 called Newport? Was he still only a little boy 
 eating out of a paper bag Aunt Eliza s pumpkin- 
 seeds? The mist of the years clouded his mental 
 vision. There was a moment or two of actual un 
 certainty, and then the Grecian lady swam into his 
 ken and usurped the place of the Madonna, while 
 the invocation to be saved dissolved entirely like 
 the Cheshire cat in "Alice in Wonderland." Yes, 
 
248 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 this was Newport ! Nobody wanted to be saved 
 in Newport ! He rubbed his eyes and yawned. 
 
 From without came the song of robins, the cool 
 touch of the ocean. He stalked to the open win 
 dow, stretching himself luxuriously. The rest of the 
 world was awake and about its piffling business ! It 
 was pretty comfortable to be a guest. Old Parry had 
 a long head, after all ! No responsibility no ex 
 pense no anxiety. It was good to be young ! To 
 be liked to like ! To hold a beautiful girl in your 
 arms ! There was the very spot he had first seen her 
 less than a month ago there on the bench in the 
 rose-garden. Something on the bench caught his eye 
 a closed book placed there with ostentatious neg 
 lect. A delicious wave of excitement engulfed him. 
 This might be her method of communicating with 
 him. He hurried into his clothes, thrusting head 
 long from his mind every cautionary consideration. 
 His remorse, his humiliation, his resolutions for the 
 future, all vanished like the motto on the wall. 
 
 A few moments and his feet were sinking de- 
 liciously into the soft turf of the rose-garden, as 
 he sauntered, a cigarette between his lips, care 
 lessly toward the bench, and with an eye roving for 
 peepers, seated himself upon it. Then he dropped 
 his hand over the book and twisted it around so 
 that he could read the title, "The Greatest Thing 
 in the World ! " His heart thumped. He knew 
 what that was "Love"! What a little devil she 
 was ! To think of anything like that ! He turned 
 back the cover. Her initials were there in pencil 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 249 
 
 "L. S. W." nothing else yes, what was that 
 scrawl at the bottom "page 137 "? Smiling, Tom 
 turned expectantly to the designated page. A 
 single phrase in a conversation had been lightly 
 underlined " to-night at twelve." Clever! There 
 in the rose-garden, of course, a place convenient for 
 him. Then she hadn t minded. She was in love 
 with him ! She herself was seeking a rendezvous ! 
 Could he wait twelve hours before again holding 
 her in his arms ? 
 
 He impatiently recalled the fact that he had ac 
 cepted an invitation to join the Selbys on their 
 yacht that afternoon. What a bore ! What was 
 the prosaic Pauline compared to this dark-eyed 
 daughter of the night? As bread to caviare; as 
 milk to spiced wine ! Away with dull respectability 
 away with Mrs. Grundy let youth and love 
 have their fling! Yet at the very height of his 
 spasm of exaltation Tom carefully scrutinized the 
 fly-leaf to determine whether or not it had ever 
 before been used for the same purpose, and satis 
 fied himself sufficiently that it had not. 
 
 That Tom should see neither his host nor hostess 
 for an entire day or even for several days was noth 
 ing unusual. And on this particular day, had he 
 not already made engagements for lunch and dinner, 
 he would undoubtedly have done so rather than 
 face an embarrassing situation consequent upon a 
 disclosure of his escapade with Lulie. He had 
 thought seriously of terminating his visit, yet he 
 could not bring himself to surrender the comforts 
 
250 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 of his present accommodations without strong 
 reason. Accordingly, he determined to find out how 
 the land lay from Lulie before doing anything. He 
 had an irritatingly peaceful afternoon on the yacht, 
 during which Pauline made it more evident than 
 ever that she regarded herself as having a lien upon 
 him and gave him several opportunities for making 
 love to her, which he embraced but half-heartedly. 
 How different she was from Lulie or even Evelyn. 
 Why, the girl was all ready to throw herself at his 
 head after an acquaintance of only three weeks ! 
 Pa Selby, too, had shown a rising interest in Tom s 
 future and seemed disappointed that his plans 
 were so unformulated. 
 
 "What you want to do, my young feller," he 
 told him confidentially over the taffrail, "is to get 
 close to money. Get as close as you can to it, and 
 stick there! Money makes money. Stands to 
 reason. One feller buys and sells cucumbers. Well, 
 he makes a cucumber profit thirty per cent, may 
 be, on a thousand crates of em. What does it 
 amount to a few dollars, and it takes him just 
 as long and as much hard work as if he was buy 
 ing and selling gold. Now, if you deal in money, 
 you make a money profit. You get me? Suppose 
 instead of a crate of cucumbers, worth three dollars, 
 you trade in a block of bonds worth a million 
 dollars. Very likely you don t make as big a per 
 cent profit, but you make a quick turnover and you 
 figure that profit on a million dollars instead of a 
 few thousand." 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 251 
 
 "But where do I get the money to buy the 
 bonds?" inquired Tom, sincerely interested. 
 
 Stand in with the big fellows," answered Selby. 
 "Go in on their deals. It s as easy for a good- 
 lookin young chap to get next to millionaires as 
 it is to farmers or dry-goods men. But the great 
 thing is to keep close to money, and folks that 
 have it, all the time. Seize your opportunities and 
 never let go. It s as easy to make twenty-five 
 thousand a year as twenty-five hundred." 
 
 "Well, just show me how, will you?" pleaded 
 Tom, with a laugh. 
 
 "Sure, I will!" retorted his host. "Now, if you 
 ain t got any other plan, why don t you start in as 
 a stock-broker? I trade a good deal and I ll give 
 you my business and speak a good word for you to 
 my friends. Every hundred shares you sell you get 
 twelve dollars and a half. That makes a hundred 
 and twenty-five dollars on every thousand, don t 
 it? Well, sometimes I trade as high as ten thou 
 sand shares a day." 
 
 Tom mentally calculated that if his genial friend 
 not only bought, but also sold, ten thousand shares 
 of stock in one day he, Tom, could make two thou 
 sand five hundred dollars by doing nothing save 
 execute the order. 
 
 "Well," he answered, "I should think that would 
 be a very pleasant business. I ll talk to you again 
 about it." 
 
 "My business alone would be worth twenty- 
 five thousand a year to you," Selby assured him. 
 
252 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 "And it s yours if you want it. Just say the 
 word ! I ve taken a great fancy to you, my lad. 
 You re the kind of young feller I like. I m not the 
 only one either!" he added with a saurian wink. 
 
 The moon had risen high over the trees about 
 "Beausejour" when Tom left the dance which had 
 followed his dinner-party, and stole cautiously to 
 the silver-flooded rose-garden. The night breeze 
 was so light that hardly a leaf stirred and the flowers 
 stood motionless upon their stalks. 
 
 Out of the shadow of the high hedge the white 
 marble of the garden-seat peered like a sheeted 
 ghost. The night was so still that he could plainly 
 hear the distant waves upon the rocks and the 
 muted strains of the waltz from the mansion he 
 had just left. Each individual grass blade at his 
 feet was clearly visible. The night was somehow 
 subdued, toned down, and yet the constituent ele 
 ments in the scene had a sharper quality even than 
 by day. His hand, for instance, as he lit his cigarette, 
 was a brilliant marble hand. It was the flame of 
 the match that seemed pale glowing like the ghost 
 of the Royal Dane. He sat down on the warm stone. 
 What would Lulie say to him? What did this 
 meeting portend? He had dreamed of yachting 
 amid the Ionian Isles with Pauline, why not with 
 Lulie ? How much more attractive the idea ! Lulie 
 had infinitely more beauty, more cleverness, more 
 chic, more money. If a fellow was going to cut 
 loose from conventionality, why not get something 
 for it? The Scott money was as good as the Selbys . 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 253 
 
 That she was a married woman a fact that had 
 at first somewhat disturbed him could be easily 
 remedied at Reno or somewhere. They could steal 
 aboard a steamer that very night, free to voyage 
 to distant, palm-fringed lands, to loiter in foreign 
 cities, to wander hand in hand over the wide world, 
 to be wafted in a what was it? in a dahabeah up 
 the Nile, he playing Mark Antony to her Cleopatra 
 on moonlit nights such as this, gazing from the deck 
 over silver sands that lost themselves in the stars. 
 
 There was a faint rustle along the hedges and 
 his heart leaped in tumult as Lulie, a filmy wrap 
 thrown across her sloping shoulders, glided silently 
 into the enchanted circle of the rose-garden. 
 
 " Lulie!" he whispered, rising to his feet and 
 tossing away his cigarette. 
 
 She did not answer him but glanced swiftly about 
 the garden, and then motioned with her hand toward 
 the seat. He could not distinguish the expression 
 on her face, but she seemed quite self-possessed in 
 spite of her evident caution. Clearly, she was not 
 agitated, and yet he did not fear her wrath. Why 
 had she come to him? He was trembling as she 
 sank down beside him upon the marble bench. 
 
 "Oh, Torn!" she said quickly, turning a sad, 
 reproachful face toward his. "Oh, you foolish, 
 reckless boy!" 
 
 "I was crazy!" he answered. "I don t know 
 how I came to do it. But you were you are so 
 lovely!" 
 
 She gave a low laugh. 
 
254 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 "What possessed you to do such a thing before 
 him then there ? " she asked. She had let her 
 head fall slightly forward, and the moonlight, steal 
 ing through the hedge, fell upon the delicate curve 
 of her white neck just below her flat little ear. He 
 had stopped trembling. A new and fateful courage 
 had come over him. She had sought him volun 
 tarily; she was not angry with him; she only 
 quarrelled with the time and place of his enforced 
 caress. 
 
 Putting his arm around her without opposition, 
 he bent over and kissed her where the moonlight 
 fell. 
 
 "It s done now!" he said. "Oh, Lulie! I do 
 love you!" 
 
XX 
 
 THE expectant storm at "Beausejour" did not, 
 for unknown reasons, eventuate. For several days 
 Tom lived in momentary anticipation of a collision 
 with Wingate. Not that he cared particularly so 
 far as he himself or even Lulie was concerned, yet 
 he naturally disliked the idea of being the cause of 
 a scandal in a house where he was a visitor. But 
 Wingate vanished as suddenly as he had made his 
 appearance as suddenly as his curious reconcilia 
 tion with Lulie had been rendered abortive. No 
 one, not even Allyn, commented upon his depar 
 ture. He apparently was neither wanted nor missed. 
 On the other hand, Tom thought, or perhaps 
 imagined, that he observed a certain added stiff 
 ness in his hostess s manner, and a less hearty ap 
 preciation of his jokes and conversation on the part 
 of her husband. The excitement of the double 
 game he was now playing, however, enabled him 
 to dismiss this aspect of the matter from his mind. 
 It was "all in his eye," he concluded. Even if 
 Wingate had "put up a holler" about Lulie to Mrs. 
 Scott, they would naturally discount anything he 
 might say. It was most unlikely that they would 
 believe either the truth or any variation upon it 
 that a jealous husband might elaborate. 
 
 255 
 
256 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 Other considerations made him less easy. One 
 of these was that he had been obliged to borrow 
 money several times from Allyn. While he fully 
 expected to be able to repay it, the fact that his 
 mother was cutting short her vacation for lack of 
 funds made him feel more or less like a criminal. 
 He justified his own luxury and idleness as com 
 pared with her shabby surroundings and meagre 
 comforts by the always flimsy and now threadbare 
 excuse that his present mode of life and companions 
 offered an opportunity for future success whereby 
 both his mother and himself would greatly profit. 
 If he married an heiress, and he could do so as easily 
 as he could snap his finger, would not it mean luxury 
 to her for the rest of her days ? Of course it would, 
 he assured himself. And yet he knew in his heart 
 that if he did anything of the kind, not one cent of 
 any such blood-money would she accept or touch. 
 
 Yet as he plunged deeper and deeper into his af 
 fair with Lulie he managed to smother the thought 
 of his mother. She would be all right. He d play 
 out his game at Newport while he had the chance, 
 and go back home with a pot of money ! He d 
 send home a pot of money, anyhow, even if he didn t 
 go himself. He couldn t help it. The choice had 
 narrowed down, he told himself, to either Pauline 
 or Lulie. There was more tang to Lulie, but she 
 might not want to marry him; and maybe horrid 
 thought! her money was in trust. Pauline was 
 safer, much safer for a lot of reasons, and yet he 
 couldn t get up much excitement about being owned 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 257 
 
 by Pauline. At times even the vision of yachting 
 with her amid the Ionian Isles was marred by the 
 suspicion that she would certainly insist on being 
 the one to select the precise islands amid which 
 they were to yacht. She would "run" him just 
 as she ran father. He would be nothing more than 
 a highly salaried companion, a sort of royal consort, 
 an American Prince Albert without a memorial. 
 There was something mid- Victorian about Pauline ! 
 She had all the solid British virtues; the regard 
 for property; the horror of the unconventional. 
 If she had regarded it as proper and young lady 
 like to use the term, she would doubtless have stig 
 matized Lulie Wingate as a "scarlet woman." She 
 often referred to her in terms which left no doubt 
 as to her meaning, although she had not the slightest 
 inkling of Tom s interest in her. In fact, she was 
 complaisant in her conviction that Tom was hers and 
 hers alone. 
 
 Thus Mr. Kelly found himself in the delicate, 
 if not embarrassing, position of being obliged to 
 make passionate love to one lady in order to keep 
 her interest, and to temper his attentions to an 
 other lest he be snapped up too quickly, while 
 yet evincing enough devotion to hold the field 
 against all comers. It must be admitted that in 
 spite of his inexperience he did both of these things 
 to a nicety. Youth quickly learns to love gener- 
 ically. In truth, that wise observer Allyn, who 
 watched our young rake s progress with amused 
 tolerance, gave it as his opinion that if opportunity 
 
258 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 offered, it was not impossible that his visitor might 
 take on still another affair with a widow, this 
 time, perhaps which prophecy came true in a 
 measure in a totally unexpected manner. 
 
 It was after a very noisy lunch-party at the 
 Scotts, on one of the succeeding Sundays, that 
 Tom made the acquaintance of a lady who was to 
 play a prominent part in his subsequent career. 
 He had not noticed her particularly at the table, 
 being engrossed on either side with the customary 
 debutante, but when the men, after a few mo 
 ments in Mr. Scott s smoking "den" an elegant 
 apartment finished in quartered oak and hung with 
 old English masters rejoined the ladies in the gar 
 den, he observed a stout, white-haired woman, 
 with a leathery complexion, sitting on the terrace 
 surrounded by a group which seemed to be listening 
 with the utmost deference to what she had to say. 
 
 "Who s that old party?" he asked of Allyn. 
 
 "That s Mrs. Rutherford Jones," answered his 
 friend, "otherwise known as the duchess. You ve 
 heard of her, of course? Well, she s the whole 
 thing here. Eccentric as a March hare, but a good 
 sort, all the same. Be sure and don t offend her, 
 whatever you do ! " 
 
 Tom noticed Lulie Wingate, Pauline Selby, Par- 
 radym, and Pennington among those standing 
 about Mrs. Jones, with several others of the younger 
 members of the party. 
 
 "She likes young people," said Allyn, lowering 
 his tone. "And her wish is a command." 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 259 
 
 As they crossed the terrace Tom heard a shrill 
 voice suddenly exclaim in a dictatorial tone: 
 
 "Who is that handsome young man? Bring 
 him to me at once ! " 
 
 "There she blows!" whispered Allyn. "She s 
 sighted you ! We must go and make obeisance. " 
 And he led Tom toward Mrs. Jones while the others 
 made way for them. 
 
 "My dear duchess!" began Allyn, making a 
 sweeping bow and laying his hand on his heart, 
 "allow me to present one of your most ardent ad 
 mirers Mr. Thomas Kelly." 
 
 The duchess nodded briskly at Tom and gave 
 him her hand. 
 
 "Well, young man," she cried, "what are you 
 doing here in this modern Babylon? Oh, tennis? 
 There s no harm in that; on the contrary, I like 
 athletic young men when they are not utterly 
 stupid. But you do not look stupid at all. I am 
 sure you are quite clever. Only you must not be 
 too clever like Parradym here! It would be a 
 catastrophe to have two Parradyms ! One is enough. 
 We keep him around as a sort of buffer to ward 
 off evil spirits in the shape of people with brains. 
 If one of those awful intellectual people is coming 
 to dinner I send for Parry and say: Parry, what 
 will stump this professor? And he writes some 
 thing on a slip of paper and I put it in my lap, 
 and when the soup is passed I look at the poor 
 professor and say sternly: What do you think 
 about the Iconoclastic Schism? And that is the 
 
260 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 end of the professor. Eh, Parry, you wicked old 
 man?" 
 
 And she shook a tortoise-shell lorgnette at Par- 
 radym, who laughed good-naturedly. 
 
 "I commend Mr. Kelly to your good graces," 
 he said. "You will find him anxious to please, 
 sober, truthful, orthodox, and polite." 
 
 "An excellent recommendation !" replied the duch 
 ess. "I wish I could say as much for my butler. 
 But if I could, he wouldn t be my butler, would 
 he? He d be Archbishop of Canterbury except 
 for his orthodoxy. I understand it is no longer 
 smart to be orthodox. If one is to be chic, one must 
 be a sceptic at least, in private. Now, Mr. Kelly, 
 what have you to say for yourself? Do you know 
 perchance what the Iconoclastic Schism was?" 
 
 Poor Tom wished he could sink through the 
 grass. He glanced helplessly around the circle of 
 amused faces. They had all suffered this sort of 
 baiting themselves, and knew how he felt. By a 
 peculiar coincidence, however, he did remember 
 the " Iconoclastic Schism" for the reason that the 
 name had been bandied about as a sort of joke 
 among the boys during his Freshman year. 
 
 "It was the row between the Pope and the Isau- 
 rian Emperor Leo, who wanted to smash all the 
 images, wasn t it?" he inquired. 
 
 Mrs. Jones emitted a cackle of delight while the 
 others gave unmistakable evidence of astonish 
 ment at Tom s extraordinary learning. 
 
 "Just hear the lad!" she cried. " Out of the 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 261 
 
 mouths of babes Parradym, you must look to 
 your laurels ! This young person is an Admirable 
 Creighton nothing less! I ve got a painter-fellow 
 who s been acting as my Grand Vizier, but I m 
 tired of him. He makes it his business to find out 
 all the horrible traits that people have, and then 
 paint them into his pictures. He s painting me now. 
 Everybody knows that I am a sweet, retiring, modest, 
 religious, gentle old lady, and to look at my por 
 trait you would say I was a sort of female Machia- 
 velli ! No ! I am through with Berkman ! But 
 on with Kelly! Sir Tom, are you enough of an 
 opportunist to come for a ride with me. You are so 
 clever and young and fresh-looking that, unless I 
 get you first, one of these designing young women 
 will grab you and take you away." 
 
 The duchess arose and the crowd broke up. It 
 was evident to Tom that he was expected to sur 
 render himself to Mrs. Jones whether he wanted 
 to do so or not. He had planned to ask Pauline to 
 go canoeing with him, but he dared not antagonize 
 this powerful old lady. Therefore, with the best 
 grace that he could, he helped her into her victoria, 
 and they started off. 
 
 They were no sooner on the way than her brusque 
 autocratic manner gave place to one of kindness. 
 It was clear that she really liked young people 
 particularly young men and wanted to be nice 
 to him. Tom was pleased and flattered at such 
 attention from an older woman, particularly one 
 of such distinction. Presently he was telling her 
 
262 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 all about his first years at college, his eventual suc 
 cess due to the fortuitous discovery of the "egg," 
 and his present social and athletic ambitions. After 
 an hour s run she dropped him at the Scotts, hav 
 ing first extracted from him a promise to lunch with 
 her the following day. 
 
 "What an extraordinary old girl!" he remarked 
 to Allyn as they with Parradym were smoking a 
 last cigar together before going to bed that night. 
 "She made herself most agreeable. I think she s 
 taken quite a fancy to me." 
 
 Allyn nodded grimly. 
 
 "Yes," he said, "she has a way of gobbling people 
 up like that swallowing them whole. She likes 
 you, yes. I don t wish to derogate from the im 
 pression you may have created on her susceptible 
 old heart. But she s fickle always was. She s 
 been married three times! Divorced the other 
 two, and poor old Jones died couldn t stand the 
 pace, I guess. Rich as mud. Entertains all the 
 time, you know swellest kind of parties all the 
 royalties. Hence her title duchess. 
 
 "She may be fickle, but she s a good old soul, all 
 the same. You said so yourself to-day after lunch. 
 I like her," answered Tom stoutly. 
 
 "We aU like her!" agreed Parradym. "You 
 can t help liking a woman of her energy, executive 
 ability, and superficial good nature. Of course 
 she s arrogant and dictatorial, but somebody s got 
 to rule the roost, and she s got the time and the 
 money. She might as well as anybody else. Only 
 don t let her turn your head." 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 263 
 
 "How do you mean?" asked Tom in a superior 
 fashion. 
 
 She d given it to old Parradym rather hard that 
 afternoon. No wonder he felt sore. 
 
 "Well," answered Parradym. "Of course you ve 
 made a hit with her. But you re not the first nor 
 will you be the last. She wants something of you, 
 and when she s had it she ll throw you over, 
 chuck you out, just as she has the others." 
 
 "Don t you think her capable of an unselfish 
 friendship?" demanded Tom. 
 
 "Capable of it, perhaps," retorted Parradym, 
 "but unless it is love at first sight, which you ll 
 admit isn t probable, it s hardly likely that her 
 pla tonic regard is entirely altruistic. I m a fairly 
 old man. I ve seen a whole lot of this sort of thing, 
 and I tell you these old women are after some 
 thing." 
 
 "Well, what is it, then?" snapped Tom. 
 
 "Your youth!" replied Parradym with sudden 
 bitterness. "They ll hang on to you, and sap your 
 vitality just as a weasel sucks an egg. It isn t only 
 the young women, like the one in the picture that 
 goes with Kipling s poem, but the old ones as well 
 that are the vampires. These withered old crones 
 want young people that are fresh and vigorous about 
 them. They want their blood, and they ll pay any 
 price to get it." 
 
 "By George!" cried Tom indignantly, but more 
 on his own account than on that of the duchess. 
 "I really don t think you ought to speak about peo 
 ple in such a way. It s it s almost disgusting!" 
 
264 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 "Of course it is, my dear fellow," agreed Parry. 
 "But lots of life is disgusting. Forewarned is fore 
 armed." 
 
 "Well, I don t believe it!" growled Tom. "You 
 fellows don t see any good in anybody ! I m going 
 to bed!" 
 
 Yet in spite of his note of defiance he dreamed 
 that night that he was lying bound upon a couch 
 half-covered by a sheet, and that old Mrs. Ruther 
 ford Jones sat cross-legged somewhere above and 
 sucked his blood through a pair of lorgnettes, while 
 she gibbered: 
 
 "Even as you and I ! Even as you and I !" 
 
XXI 
 
 FOR some reason which Tom could not fully 
 understand the two weeks allotted by him for the 
 purpose of getting into physical trim for the tennis 
 tournament were not productive of the expected 
 results. He practised daily on various private 
 courts or on the grounds of the Casino, studiously 
 avoided alcohol and tobacco, and endeavored so 
 far as possible to be in bed by eleven o clock. But 
 in spite of his efforts some influence which he was 
 unable to define had affected the accuracy of his 
 vision and the certainty of his stroke. While he 
 felt in perfect physical health, the "pink of con 
 dition" in fact, his sleep was fitful and his appetite 
 did not respond to the menu of elaborate simplicity 
 which Mrs. Scott had ordered her chef to prepare 
 for him. 
 
 There was something in the air what, he could 
 not make out which deprived his play of its snap 
 and brilliance of the year before. The expostula 
 tions of Allyn and the milder protests of Parradym 
 had made him self-conscious, and whereas thereto 
 fore he had not thought at all about where he should 
 hit the ball, he now kept wondering whether he 
 was hitting it in the right place. He could serve 
 the "egg," but he could not serve it with the same 
 
 265 
 
266 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 accuracy, and the fact that he perceived other 
 players lounging on the benches and about the 
 grounds studying his service made him nervous. 
 
 One lank youth with yellow hair from Leland 
 Stanford had been pointed out to him as a coming 
 "Western Wonder," and more than once he had 
 caught the fellow at a distance watching his de 
 livery and apparently taking note of the effect of 
 each cut upon the service. Beyond the fact that 
 the name of the unknown was Calkins, Tom knew 
 nothing of him; but he conceived a pronounced 
 distaste for his tousled yellow "mop," his bob- 
 tailed blue coat, and his extremely high-water 
 duck trousers. For some peculiar reason Calkins 
 made Tom think of his own earlier self. He had 
 worn just such a bobtailed coat and just such 
 trousers. Now he rode to the Casino in the Scott 
 brougham, and was assisted out by the Scott foot 
 man, who handed him his silver-mounted racket- 
 cases as if he were serving royalty, and indeed Tom, 
 clad in his immaculate white polo-coat, his care 
 fully pressed flannels, and his silk shirt with its open 
 rolling collar, and its full sleeves buttoned tight 
 around his wrists, looked not unlike a young noble 
 man just up from Oxford at an English house-party. 
 
 As the day for the drawing drew nearer, Tom 
 became more and more anxious about himself. 
 He didn t seem acclimated to the air of Newport. 
 He was in a constant state of excitement, physical 
 and mental. Yet outwardly he gave no indication 
 of his condition, and his friends continued to ac- 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 267 
 
 claim him vociferously as the coming champion, 
 or at least the " runner-up," and professed that he 
 would walk triumphantly through the preliminaries 
 to the semifinals. Tom himself felt strange mis 
 givings. He knew that the virtue had gone out 
 of him somehow. Something told him that through 
 the "egg" alone could he hope to win. Yet, after 
 all, he knew in his heart that the "egg" was noth 
 ing but a trick. He had made a practice of getting 
 up for an early morning walk, in which Parradym 
 frequently joined him, and on several occasions, 
 out by the golf-links, they had passed Calkins 
 jogging along without his coat on a three or four 
 mile sprint, warming himself up for the day s work. 
 
 "There s a fellow that means business," said 
 Parradym. "They tell me he has had to work his 
 way through college by tutoring in the summer." 
 
 "He looks like a ruffled grouse/" growled Tom. 
 "I guess he s a close student of the game, though. 
 Hope I don t draw him in the preliminaries ! " 
 
 Tom did not draw Calkins in the preliminary 
 round, but found himself pitted against mediocre 
 players who had entered the tournament more for 
 the fun of the thing than for anything else, and 
 these he defeated generally without evoking the 
 genie hidden in his marvellous "egg" serve. Once, 
 however, when severely pushed by an old war- 
 horse at the game, he was forced to use it and easily 
 won a final love set. His victory was greeted with 
 enthusiastic applause from the spectators, but it 
 was marred for Tom by the sight of Calkins loafing 
 
268 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 in a soiled cap at the far end of the benches, a point 
 of excellent vantage for watching either the de 
 livery of a service or its return. 
 
 He won his first four matches, had an accession 
 of confidence, regained something of his old snap, 
 and then found that he was to play against Calkins 
 in the fourth series before the semifinals. In some 
 inexplicable way it had become generally known, 
 although none had seen Calkins play, that Tom 
 was likely to meet a worthy antagonist in the Cali- 
 fornian, and on the morning of their match Tom 
 found a large gallery assembled at the Casino. The 
 Scotts and Welfleets were all there, as well as the 
 Selbys, and most of his college friends were gathered 
 in the front row. Pauline and Lulie both threw 
 him glances of encouragement as he tossed away 
 his polo-coat, and shook hands with the awkward 
 boy in the high-water trousers. 
 
 Calkins won the toss, and took the serve and 
 the first game by a terrific smashing service end 
 ing in a long low shoot, the force of which almost 
 knocked Tom s racket from his hand. Tom, hold 
 ing the "egg" in reserve, tried a similar serve on 
 the Leland Stanford man, and a hot battle ensued, 
 both fighting for possession of the net, from which 
 Tom was finally driven through the apparently 
 miraculous ability of his opponent to lob. The 
 games now stood two-love in favor of the Westerner. 
 Again Tom lost. Three-love ! 
 
 By this time the crowds were deserting the other 
 matches to see the two college champions play 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 269 
 
 against each other. Tom knew that the time had 
 come, if it ever was coming, for him to disclose 
 the famous service which his friends fondly believed 
 would make him the national champion. 
 
 Stepping swiftly up to the back of the line he 
 tossed the ball in the air, and cut it sharply with 
 a terrific left-hand stroke. The ball whirred over 
 the net, struck, as he had intended, in the right-hand 
 corner of the service court, and bounded sharply, 
 almost at a right angle, to the left, while Calkins 
 waved at it vainly on the right. A titter went up 
 from the audience which broke into a laugh as Cal 
 kins made a humorous grimace in the direction of 
 the retreating ball. 
 
 But at Tom s second service, instead of with 
 drawing behind the back line, Calkins took his stand 
 bravely in the centre of the court. Again Tom 
 tossed the ball in the air, again sent it whining with 
 the tremendous impact imparted to it toward the 
 other corner of the court. This time likewise it 
 bounded in a direction contrary to its course, but 
 it had no sooner struck earth than the Californian 
 sprang upon it with a leap, caught it squarely in 
 the centre of his racket, and returned it with a ter 
 rific cross court which Tom all but failed to get. 
 His ball rose high, sailing straight for the centre 
 of the net where Calkins was waiting to smash it, 
 ten feet over Tom s frantic swing. 
 
 "He s got it," thought Tom desperately. "He s 
 been studying it all the time." 
 
 During the remainder of Tom s Waterloo the 
 
270 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 "egg" offered no obvious difficulties to the West 
 erner. In fact, Tom s straight cannon-ball service 
 won him more games than the now discredited 
 "egg." This Calif ornian farmer began to fill Tom 
 with terror. He seemed to have muscles of iron and 
 lungs of leather, for he didn t turn a hair at the 
 tremendous pace Tom set for him, while the Har 
 vard champion found himself reeking and panting 
 at the end of every rally. 
 
 By an almost superhuman effort Tom won the 
 third set, practically collapsed at the fourth, and 
 lost the match to his opponent, having taken but 
 nine games out of twenty-four ! 
 
 He made an heroic effort, befitting a good sports 
 man, to be cheerful and good-natured over this 
 heart-breaking result, and vaulted gracefully, if 
 not gayly, over the net to grasp the calloused hand 
 of the "Ruffled Grouse." He felt very picturesque 
 and very magnanimous as he did this, and he tried 
 to make a little speech to Calkins which should 
 epitomize the sensational aspect of the occasion. 
 
 "Old man," he cried grandiloquently, "I don t 
 grudge you this victory; you deserve it! But I 
 hardly expected to be put out so soon. You re a 
 wonder!" 
 
 Strangely enough the Californian did not seem 
 to think that the occasion was one of any particular 
 moment, nor that the victory was at all surprising. 
 
 "Thanks," he said shortly, putting on a faded 
 bath-robe. "That s all right. I expect you re a 
 bit out of condition. That egg is rather neat. 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 271 
 
 But on the whole I prefer an old-fashioned smash. 
 So long." 
 
 Thus ended the brief and sensational sporting 
 career of Thomas Kelly, Esquire, erstwhile of New- 
 bury Street, Boston. But it had served its pur 
 pose. Through it he had stepped into his own, 
 into the world of wealth and fashion, into a future 
 of untold possibilities. 
 
XXII 
 
 MY DEAR MR. KELLY: 
 
 It will give me the sincerest pleasure if you will make one 
 of my house-party after your visit to Mrs. Scott is over. 
 I do not know how long you are planning to remain in New 
 port, but I should be delighted to have you regard my house 
 as your home for whatever length of time you care to stay. 
 Berkman is leaving to-morrow and his room is at your dis 
 posal. Do come ! 
 
 Cordially yours, 
 
 ANNA RUTHERFORD JONES. 
 
 Thus ran the note which the blue footman 
 handed to Tom on a silver salver upon his return 
 to "Beausejour." Had he received it in June he 
 would have been instantly rilled with ecstatic ex 
 citement at such a pressing invitation from one 
 of the "leaders" if not the "leader" of New 
 port society. As it was, he merely thrust it into 
 his pocket and lit a cigarette. 
 
 So the old girl was making up to him ! It would 
 probably be beastly dull staying with her, and yet 
 it offered an opportune excuse to escape from the 
 somewhat chilly hospitality of Mrs. Scott. There 
 were other reasons, too, for going. For one, there 
 were disadvantages about being in the same house 
 with Lulie. You couldn t be at high pressure all the 
 time. You might burst your boiler. For another, 
 
 272 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 273 
 
 he had already stayed at "Beausejour" a full month 
 and felt that he had outworn his welcome. Besides, 
 he owed Allyn seven hundred dollars which he had 
 no immediate prospect of being able to repay, and 
 it was embarrassing to be constantly reminded of 
 the unpleasant fact by the presence of his friend. 
 Last, there were new people to be met at Mrs. 
 Jones s, new debutantes to fascinate, new million 
 aires to " cotton to," in short, new fields to conquer 
 by virtue of the sword of his social charm. So he 
 remarked casually to Allyn that evening: 
 
 "You ve been awfully good to put me up here 
 for so long, and I ve had a perfectly ripping time. 
 Now that my match is over I ve really no excuse 
 for hanging on, but old lady Jones has asked me 
 over to stay with her awhile, and she s been so 
 decent to me I rather feel as if I ought to go." 
 
 " Sorry to have you leave us," answered Allyn 
 rather coldly. "But you ll no doubt enjoy your 
 self there for a while. Anyhow you can stay until 
 the finals. When does she want you?" 
 
 " To-morrow," replied Tom, a little jarred by 
 his friend s tone. 
 
 They were standing at the door of the royal suite 
 on the point of going to bed, with the valet loiter 
 ing unobtrusively in the offing. Tom wondered 
 if Allyn knew anything about Lulie. It was quite 
 unlikely. But it would be a relief to get out of the 
 house. The valet could pack his things the first 
 thing in the morning. The valet ! It came to him 
 suddenly that the man would have a right to expect 
 
274 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 a handsome gratuity for waiting upon him for a 
 month twenty-five dollars at least! And there 
 would be the butler, and the three footmen that 
 were always on duty in the hall and dining-room, 
 and the two chambermaids, and horrors ! the 
 four different drivers that had taken him about, 
 and the steward on the yacht, and the quarter 
 master on the launch, the man that carried the 
 trunks, and maybe the housekeeper. It would 
 make a hundred dollar bill "look sick!" He al 
 most turned faint and poured himself a Scotch- 
 and-soda. Then he took the bull by the horns. 
 
 "Damn it all, Allyn!" he remarked, as if the 
 thought had just occurred to him. "I find I ve 
 run short again! Can you lend me another hun 
 dred? 7 
 
 Allyn smiled. 
 
 "I think so," he said, not unkindly. "Eight 
 hundred now, isn t it? He stepped inside the 
 threshold and closed the door behind him. "Look 
 here, old man. You don t mind my speaking, do 
 you? You re really hitting up too hot a pace! 
 You see, you re my guest and all that, and I feel 
 it s partly my all our fault. But you simply 
 mustn t go on this way. Don t think I m afraid 
 I ll lose my money. You know it isn t that. I 
 shan t think of it again. It s you I m worried about. 
 You may think it funny coming from me! But 
 you make us all look like pikers. You ll kill your 
 self!" 
 
 "I don t know what you mean, at all !" answered 
 Tom, taken utterly by surprise. 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 275 
 
 Allyn decanted a glass of whiskey and threw 
 himself back in a leather chair - 
 
 "Don t be sore on me/ he continued. "You re 
 different from us or at least you were. That s 
 the point, and I feel responsible. You d hit the 
 bottle a little in Cambridge, but when you landed 
 in Newport you were pretty much all to the good 
 sound in wind and limb a clean-minded, jolly, 
 simple old Boston son of a gun. Now look at you ! 
 All out of condition. Panting and wallowing like 
 a walrus all over the court in a national tournament. 
 Throwing around money like water. Dangling 
 after a lot of little girls and letting them flatter 
 you. Sucking up as much rum as I do and more. 
 Smoking yourself to death. And finally, getting 
 pie-eyed, you get a strangle-hold upon my esteemed 
 married sister and kiss her right in front of her 
 hubby. Really, you know, the thing isn t done 
 except in novels, maybe!" 
 
 He laughed with a flat attempt at gayety, ob 
 viously trying to make things as easy as possible 
 for his friend. But his words made Tom writhe. 
 
 "I m sorry you feel that way about me!" he 
 stammered. He knew Allyn meant it in all kind 
 ness, and yet he could not bring himself to take 
 such a dressing down in good part. Allyn had 
 done nothing less than insult him. He took a few 
 turns up and down the room to get his bearings. 
 
 "Don t be angry with me, old top!" Allyn hur 
 ried on. "You see it s only because we re so fond 
 of you that it makes any difference. Now there s 
 Parry !" 
 
276 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 "Oh, he s been talking about me too, has he?" 
 snapped Tom. 
 
 "Oh, no ! Parry s one of your best friends 
 
 "The hell he is! Look here, Allyn. You may 
 mean well enough, but it strikes me you re going 
 a bit too far. If that s the way you feel, the sooner 
 I leave the better." 
 
 His egotism had overcome his humiliation, and 
 he spoke now with lowered lids and a curl on his 
 lips. 
 
 Allyn arose. He could not insult a guest, even 
 if the guest had abused his hospitality. 
 
 "Look here, Tom!" he said earnestly. "Don t 
 be sore! Of course, I took a chance in speaking; 
 but I was honestly worried about you. I m sorry 
 if I ve hurt your feelings. But, you see, I was only 
 doing it for your own good. I may be wrong, at 
 that! Let s be friends, anyhow! Give us your 
 paw, old bear!" 
 
 He held out his hand and Tom, who recognized 
 that he deserved every word that Allyn had ut 
 tered, and more, and that his pose of righteous in 
 dignation was absurd, took it in his. 
 
 "That s all right, Allyn!" he said gruffly. 
 
 "That s a good Kelly!" answered Allyn heartily. 
 
 It was or should have been the cue to a real rec 
 onciliation to a frank confession and apology on 
 Tom s part to a new endeavor, more tactful per 
 haps, on that of his friend to put him right. A blur 
 came over Tom s eyes. He knew he was a swine ! 
 Knew that it was all true I And Allyn was a good 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 277 
 
 sort to tell him ! His heart warmed to his friend, 
 he wanted to throw his arm around his shoulder and 
 beg his pardon, to make it all up and admit what a 
 nincompoop he was ! For Tom, in the inner recesses 
 of his soul, preserved an invisible set of spiritual 
 weights and measures which he sometimes used un 
 consciously. He recognized perfectly well that he 
 was a swine, but he excused himself on the ground 
 that he was living in the same pen and feeding out 
 of the same trough with like animals. As long as he 
 was doing so, his swinishness did not seem to him 
 to carry with it the same moral obliquity. He was 
 in Rome and doing as the Romans did, that was 
 all. And now as he looked into Allyn s kindly 
 eyes his better nature gained the ascendant. His 
 lip trembled and he was on the point of bursting 
 out into a full confession of his swinishness, and 
 an appeal to Allyn to help him turn his back 
 upon it. 
 
 Allyn, holding Tom s right hand in his, uncon 
 sciously thrust his left into his trousers pocket. 
 It came in contact with a roll of crisp bills. Allyn 
 was only aware that Tom had "come around," 
 and was no longer angry with him. He had no 
 intimation of the depths to which his friend s nature 
 had been stirred how near Tom really was to an 
 emotional crisis which might have had a revolu 
 tionary result upon his character and future. Allyn s 
 fingers closed on the bills, and he instinctively drew 
 them forth at the very instant that Tom was about 
 to lay bare his soul. 
 
278 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 "Well, here s that hundred!" he remarked jo 
 cosely. "Are you sure that s all you want?" 
 
 The sight and crackle of the bills with the words 
 that accompanied them strangled Tom s change 
 of heart in the very moment of its birth, choked 
 it like a hod of ashes poured over a tender hapless 
 sprout. Instantly he hardened. Withdrawing his 
 hand almost roughly from Allyn s, he stepped back 
 scowling : 
 
 "Curse your money!" he cried fiercely. "I 
 won t touch a cent of the damned stuff!" 
 
 But in the next instant he realized that he must. 
 
XXIII 
 
 IT would be fruitless to dwell in detail upon 
 Tom s visit to Mrs. Jones. The summer life in the 
 various mansions along the Ocean Walk and Rhode 
 Island Avenue differs but little, and his days were 
 passed in the same round of frivolous activities 
 as before, save that he found that his new hostess 
 regarded herself as having, in exchange for her 
 hospitality, the first claim upon his time. While 
 at the Scotts he had been free to come and go ex 
 actly as he chose, with no questions asked, but at 
 Mrs. Jones s he was expected to lunch and dine with 
 his hostess whenever she remained at home and to 
 spend many hours, when he would have preferred 
 to be on the water or at the Casino, in entertain 
 ing her at whist and piquet. 
 
 Soon he found himself assisting as a matter 
 of course in arranging the guests at her constant 
 dinner and luncheon parties, and acting as un- 
 salaried majordomo of her establishment. Just 
 how this had come about he was unable to explain. 
 He had at first felt flattered at the confidence re 
 posed in him, but when this extended to his being 
 held personally responsible for the happiness of 
 all the more unattractive female guests he was in 
 clined to rebel. Yet, had he rebelled he would 
 
 279 
 
280 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 have had no place to go. Mrs. Jones was more 
 than kind; but she also expected him to be more 
 than kind, even if he was less than kin. He could 
 at any moment have cast himself upon the Selbys 
 and been received with open arms, but this would 
 have embarrassed him. If he was going to live on 
 Pa Selby for the rest of his life he didn t want to 
 begin just now. He d take his off time first. Be 
 sides it would have complicated his affair with 
 Lulie. So he stayed on, occupying a position in 
 the house rather like that of an eldest son who has 
 just returned home after a prolonged absence. Par- 
 radym, when they met, eyed him with sinister 
 humor. It was plain that the aged sycophant re 
 garded him as already having descended to a lower 
 level. 
 
 Whether it was due to Parradym s attitude or 
 to the increasing exactions of his hostess, Tom s 
 visit at Mrs. Jones s rapidly began to pall upon him. 
 He had now enjoyed her hospitality for nearly a 
 month, the social season was slightly on the wane, 
 and as her engagements decreased in number Mrs. 
 Jones availed herself more and more of Tom s so 
 ciety. Before the end of the first week in September 
 he found that she expected him to spend most of his 
 time with her. She had become, as she frequently 
 told him, increasingly fond of him. But as often 
 happens, her fondness carried with it an infor 
 mality of treatment which, while at times verging on 
 the sentimental was at others peremptorily exact 
 ing and almost contemptuous. There were many 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 281 
 
 occasions when she could not have been more gracious 
 or even tender, but this did not preclude her from 
 ordering him about like a servant when she felt so 
 disposed. 
 
 Altogether Tom felt that he had earned his pas 
 sage during the month he had stayed with her, and 
 he might have departed sooner than he did had he 
 not discovered that a show of meekness only led to 
 greater indignities, and that a display of indigna 
 tion upon the whole rather pleased her than other 
 wise. Thus their relations presently came to re 
 semble those of a mismatched couple who indulged 
 in frequent quarrels invariably followed by periods 
 of reconciliation. During these Mrs. Jones was ac 
 customed to assert that she was a lonely old woman, 
 that nobody loved her, that she looked upon Tom 
 almost as a son, and that if he ever left her it would 
 break her heart. As often, however, she would 
 charge him with selfishness and neglect, and 
 upbraid him for leaving her alone to amuse her 
 self. 
 
 Tom s self-respect suffered severely during this 
 humiliating period, but as he wished to remain in 
 Newport until his cruise with the Selbys he had no 
 choice but to stay where he was. He soon dis 
 covered, however, that Allyn s opinion of his host 
 ess was sounder than the one which he had himself 
 originally expressed. It might well be that the old 
 girl was not a human vampire, but he was now frank 
 to admit that there was something unwholesome 
 about her just what, he could not define. For 
 
282 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 one thing she had a way of making him come and 
 sit down upon a stool at her side and patting his 
 cheek with her bony old hand. On these occasions 
 she frequently gave him what she called "good ad 
 vice" as to his policy and conduct of life. It may 
 have been that she had an unselfish affection for this 
 young man, as she had had for other young men be 
 fore him; or it may have been and probably was 
 the fact that her interest in him was too complex for 
 analysis. Whatever its precise character it was un 
 fortunate that at this point in Tom s nascent career 
 an older woman should have not only flattered him 
 with her attention but should have sought, sincerely 
 or otherwise, to persuade him that life was a game 
 of chance played on a crooked wheel. 
 
 "Come here, Tommy!" she ordered one eve 
 ning. 
 
 All the guests had gone and his aged hostess was 
 sitting before her own picture, smoking a cigarette 
 before going to her room. 
 
 "Come here and let me talk to you." 
 
 Tom obediently took his place by her side, and 
 she laid her hand affectionately on his. 
 
 "Don t let that artist fellow Berkman give you 
 any of his queer ideas, Tommy! He s a perfect 
 magpie ! None of the things he says are his own. 
 And he shouts so ! That s why I got rid of him. 
 Do you suppose I d ever have accepted my portrait 
 in an unfinished condition if I could have stood him 
 a moment longer? Never ! I suppose he talked you 
 deaf, dumb, and blind, didn t he?" 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 283 
 
 Tom laughed uneasily 
 
 "He certainly likes to talk," he parried. 
 
 "Talk! That s all he can do. What does an 
 ugly little brat like that know about life? He can 
 daub paint on a canvas yes ! But all his life 
 long he ll get nothing that he doesn t have to fight 
 for!" 
 
 "Perhaps you mean that he doesn t have to 
 pay for, " hazarded Tom. 
 
 "Put it your own way," she retorted sharply. 
 "Which do you value most, what you buy for 
 dirty money or what is given freely? Is a woman s 
 love you can buy with money worth having? The 
 world is full of two kinds of people, Tom; those 
 who have charm and those who have not. It be 
 longs to the first. They are the overlords of life, 
 and the others pay tribute to them like peasants. 
 They ask for what they want and they get it. 
 Berkman is a peasant." 
 
 She looked keenly at Tom. 
 
 "But you re one of the others, Tom!" she said: 
 "You can have what you want for the asking. And 
 it s something to be proud of, not ashamed of! 
 Youth ! It s the gift of the gods !" 
 
 She bit her lips and gripped the arm of the chair 
 with her unoccupied hand. 
 
 "My God ! What wouldn t I give to be young !" 
 she groaned suddenly, so that he was startled. 
 "Don t mind me, Tommy! I m just a foolish old 
 woman, who sees life slipping away from her before 
 she s ready to go, and wants a few hundred years 
 
284 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 more of it. Take all you can get, Tom. Women 
 like you, and women run the game. Don t make 
 any mistake about that. Anything you want a 
 woman can get for you. And don t be afraid to 
 ask her, either. She ll be more than ready to give 
 it to you. For you ve got the greatest thing in all 
 the world youth immortal youth ! " 
 
 Tom was acutely embarrassed and at the same 
 time hugely flattered. But he realized the tragic 
 note in what his hostess was saying. Not knowing 
 what to reply, he lit a cigarette in a self-conscious 
 manner and blew smoke rings, waiting until she 
 should resume. 
 
 "You wonder why I say these things to you? 
 It s only because I m fond of you really devoted 
 to you, and I want to see you make a success. Don t 
 go off and marry the first foolish little chit that 
 makes eyes at you. Don t get tied up with some 
 married woman or any woman that hasn t any 
 future or position. Wait ! You ve plenty of time. 
 Heavens, you re only twenty! Have your fling 
 see the world sow your wild oats if you want to 
 only ask me about it, first. But don t be in a 
 hurry! Then when the right girl comes along 
 why, take her! And any girl would have you 
 believe me! I m a wise old woman and I 
 know!" 
 
 "Thanks!" laughed Tom. "You re highly flat 
 tering. And I intend to follow your advice. But 
 wouldn t I be buying the lady, just the same as 
 any other?" 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 285 
 
 Mrs. Jones smiled a wrinkled smile and shook 
 her finger at him indulgently. 
 
 "You clever child! Well, perhaps you would. 
 But at any rate you would be getting a better bar 
 gain." 
 
XXIV 
 
 THE announcement of Tom s contemplated cruise 
 upon the Pauline brought a renewed outburst from 
 Mrs. Jones. It was, she asserted, an absurd waste 
 of his time and a dangerous interruption in his so 
 far highly successful career. Mrs. Jones had or 
 claimed to have " plans " for Tom what they 
 were she did not disclose which would be vitally 
 disarranged by his abrupt departure at this time. 
 To go sailing off alone with a young girl on a yacht 
 even if her father and mother were along would 
 in a sense compromise him. He would be regarded 
 as having had the bloom rubbed off, so to speak. 
 Moreover, she expected shortly to return to her 
 " spring-and-autumn place" at Roslyn, Long 
 Island, and she wanted him to assist her in the 
 onerous task of transferring her household thither. 
 Tom, suspecting that this was the "plan" to which 
 she referred, resolutely declined to be diverted, ex 
 plaining that he was under a binding obligation to 
 make the trip and that, anyhow, he had no interest 
 in the girl. 
 
 Wise old Mrs. Jones, however, merely laughed at 
 him. He was going, she protested, for no other 
 purpose than to marry the first million dollars 
 worth of pickle- jars who proposed to him. The 
 
 286 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 287 
 
 whole thing was nothing but a scheme, on the 
 part of the Selbys, to get him where he would be 
 helpless and then bind him hand and foot. These 
 yachting trips were inevitably the debacle in promis 
 ing young lives. At last, perceiving him to be in 
 exorable, she yielded rather more gracefully than 
 might have been expected and, having extorted a 
 promise from him to join her in the country im 
 mediately upon his return, bade him a sinister fare 
 well. 
 
 Lulie presented greater difficulty. Ever since 
 her husband s sudden disappearance from "Beause- 
 jour" she had evinced an interest in Tom which, 
 while delightful at times, was at others extremely 
 disconcerting. Coincidently there seemed to be 
 something mysterious going on in her private af 
 fairs just what he was unable to surmise. She 
 was as alluring as ever, more alluring now that she 
 was no longer merely a vision but there was less 
 frivolity in her attitude toward him. This worried 
 Tom, rather. It was quite true that he had kissed 
 her in the moonlight and had told her that he loved 
 her, as he had others. But he had no idea of com 
 mitting himself to a wedding march, ever so prob 
 lematical, with her or of leading her to believe that 
 he had. Simply because you took a married woman 
 in your arms and swore you adored her was no 
 reason certainly not ! for thinking that you were 
 prepared to face the ignominy of a divorce court 
 and a future without alimony. 
 
 Somehow Lulie had in some indefinable way man- 
 
288 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 aged to create an atmosphere of finality about their 
 relations that somewhat frightened him. Why, 
 dozens of men must have done the same thing to her 
 before without getting into any such muddle. He 
 almost wished that he could confide in old Mother 
 Jones, but he instinctively realized that if he did it 
 would be good-by to Lulie ! The old dragon would 
 eat her alive ! On the other hand, it looked as if 
 Lulie might eat him alive ! But then poor Tom was 
 almost ready to be eaten alive. One day he would 
 be thirsty for her presence, and the very next he 
 would be gasping at the dilemma in which the 
 service upon him of a legal document naming him 
 as a corespondent would place him. Was he willing 
 to have Lulie and her three millions at such a price ? 
 Any suggestion that he proposed to go sailing off 
 all over the Maine coast with Pauline Selby would 
 have brought about a crisis which he had no courage 
 to face. He wasn t ready to marry Lulie in spite 
 of his passion for her. In fine he shrewdly suspected 
 that the fact that he could not possibly marry her 
 had been one of the elements in her original at 
 traction for him. One didn t marry Cleopatra or 
 Semiramis or Mrs. Potiphar ! 
 
 So he carefully concealed his traitorous intention, 
 trusting to chance to make it possible for him to find 
 a plausible excuse for his desertion at the appropriate 
 time. As luck would have it, Lulie received a sudden 
 summons by telegraph from New York from her 
 lawyer, she explained with dark suggestiveness the 
 day before the departure of the Pauline, and he saw 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 289 
 
 her enter the Pullman car at the junction, and 
 bade her farewell through the open window feeling 
 like a schoolboy who kisses his mother good-by 
 just before playing hookey. 
 
 The elder Selbys greeted Tom effusively. There 
 was that in their manner which indicated that his 
 appearance on board the yacht was tantamount 
 to putting the final seals on a prenuptial agree 
 ment. Pauline, herself, displayed a new and un 
 wonted in fact almost maidenly shyness and 
 reserve. Also to Tom s astonishment he discovered 
 a totally unexpected passenger in the person of 
 Parradym. 
 
 The cruise started auspiciously after a dinner 
 eaten while the yacht was still at her moorings in 
 Newport Harbor, for the captain had wisely de 
 cided to make his first essay of the broad rollers 
 of the Atlantic while the family were safely in their 
 berths and to get as many as possible of the 
 four hundred sea miles to Mt. Desert behind the 
 Pauline s propeller before it should be necessary 
 for them to get up again. 
 
 Tom had received another letter from his mother 
 just before his departure, but he had thrust it into 
 his pocket in the vague apprehension that it might 
 contain something which would interfere with his 
 embarkation. Once the Pauline had weighed anchor, 
 and it was no longer possible for him to return, he 
 opened it in the privacy of his stateroom. As he 
 expected, his mother had returned to Boston and 
 
290 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 longed to see him again. She had read, she said, 
 of his defeat in the tournament, but she appre 
 ciated the fact that he was probably too much dis 
 appointed by the result to write to her about it. 
 There was nothing now, however, to keep him longer 
 in Newport, and she hoped that he would return 
 at once in time to enter the law school. She was 
 anxious that he should do this and become a lawyer, 
 like his father. Everybody said he was so " bright" 
 that she was sure he could easily become a great 
 man if he only tried like Rufus Choate, perhaps. 
 She still continued to "do rather poorly" as she 
 expressed it, but she hoped that the quiet of New- 
 bury Street and Bridget s good old-fashioned cook 
 ing would soon make her feel like herself again.- The 
 only hint of uneasiness in the letter was contained 
 in the concluding sentence: 
 
 " My dear, dear boy," she wrote in a hand more shaky, 
 Tom noticed, than in her preceding letter. " I hope the plea 
 sures of athletics and social life have not taken your mind 
 off higher things or your duty toward Him to whom we owe 
 everything. Oh, my dear son ! My constant prayer is that 
 you will bear yourself worthily as a follower of Jesus Christ. 
 " Your devoted mother, 
 
 " CAROLINE M. KELLY." 
 
 Tom, who was sitting upon a wicker divan with 
 his feet on the bed when he read the letter, ground 
 the end of the cigar which he was smoking between 
 his teeth. Why did his mother invariably write 
 that kind of tosh? It was embarrassing merely 
 
THE WORLD A \ND THOMAS KELLY 291 
 
 to read it! He made a face, not so much at the 
 sentiments contained in her epistle, as at what he 
 regarded as the indelicacy of forever talking and 
 writing about that kind of thing. Anyhow it was 
 a relief to know that he would not have to ask Selby 
 to turn back to Newport or put in at Boston. His 
 mother was all right. That cough of hers which 
 had been familiar to him for twenty years was 
 half if not all nervousness. She d do well enough 
 once she had Bridget to look after her. He crunched 
 the letter into his coat pocket, intending to throw 
 it overboard, and filled his gold cigarette-case from 
 a gilded glass box upon the table by the port-hole. 
 It was a swell room, all right! The chintz was 
 really bully! He did not know, of course, that 
 Pauline had selected it herself, and had had the 
 stateroom expensively decorated for his coming. 
 
 He threw on his polo-coat, to get which had been 
 the ostensible reason for going to his stateroom, 
 and mounted the companionway to the deck, where 
 he found the whole party having coffee under the 
 awning, and watching the lights of Newport fast 
 dimming behind them. 
 
 "Well," nodded Ma Selby, "here we are at last. 
 We ought to have a real good time for the next 
 two weeks." 
 
 "Th comp ny s all right, anyhow!" agreed her 
 husband. "Just what I like, one or two congenial 
 people so s not to be lonely, and not enough to have 
 to make any effort." 
 
 "That s what I like, too," echoed his wife. "Not 
 
292 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 havin to make an effort! I do get tired at New 
 port with all this going out to dinner not but 
 what I like it, too!" she added, for fear that Tom 
 might infer that she was by nature unadapted to 
 the higher life. 
 
 "You heard what the cabby said to Captain 
 Granger the other day?" remarked Parradym af 
 fably, saving the conversation from plunging into 
 the depths of personal reminiscence. Granger, you 
 know, is an Englishman, and picked up a cab just 
 to see the town. What do all these people do to 
 amuse themselves? he inquired of the driver. 
 Feed off one another, mostly/ said the cabby." 
 
 Pa Selby slapped his knee. "That s a good one ! 
 That s just how I feel about it! Feed off one 
 another ! Ha ! Ha ! That s what 7 always say ! 
 What s the use of feeding off one another when you 
 can feed at home ? " he inquired. 
 
 "Exactly!" answered Parradym, winking im 
 perceptibly at Tom. 
 
 The Pauline slipped swiftly down Narragansett 
 Bay, and soon a slight lift of the bows foretold 
 their approach to deep water. 
 
 "Well, I m going to turn in!" speedily declared 
 Mrs. Selby, addressing her husband. "You better 
 come too, papa. You ain t used to the ocean. 
 The young folks can stay up as long as they 
 want to!" 
 
 "Good night, everybody!" at once said Mr. 
 Selby obediently. "You may not see us again very 
 soon. But the captain says we ought to be in 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 293 
 
 Bar Harbor to-morrow afternoon. Anyhow, if you 
 don t see what you want, ring for it !" 
 
 The two old people with much effort negotiated 
 the upper steps of the slippery companionway, and 
 presently disappeared. 
 
 "Does anybody want to walk up and down a 
 little?" inquired Pauline innocently. 
 
 "Anybody does/ answered Parradym with a 
 smile. "But I prefer to sit here and smoke. You 
 two young things can go and amuse yourselves. 
 I won t look." 
 
 The yacht was meeting the combers head on, 
 her bow sending upward great showers of moonlit 
 spray. Tom slipped Pauline s hand through his 
 arm, and led her to where they could stand in the 
 shelter of the bridge and watch the great undulat 
 ing waste of the silvered ocean. 
 
 The girl was, contrary to her usual habit, strangely 
 silent, and Tom, rinding it difficult to think of any 
 thing appropriate to say, stood there speechless be 
 side her. Pauline did not look at him; indeed, she 
 did not seem to be looking anywhere, and he could 
 without difficulty divine that she was deeply moved 
 by something. He realized distinctly that it was 
 "his move." She had worked herself up to a su 
 preme emotional crisis, planned the whole thing to 
 give him this opportunity the very first night out 
 so that they could have the full benefit of the entire 
 voyage as acknowledged lovers. Old Parradym 
 had been brought along to amuse the others even 
 if he were not a party to the plot, and the almanac 
 
294 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 consulted in advance as to the weather and the 
 moon. 
 
 Yet Tom felt no responding thrill. Not one 
 beat faster did his callous young heart register 
 as Pauline moved a shade closer to him, and 
 tightened almost unnoticeably the clasp of her 
 hand upon his arm. But he had to say something ! 
 And he did feel something like pity for this fresh, 
 young creature who was so obviously eating her 
 heart out for him. After all she was his friend, his 
 playmate almost an intimate. It was hard to 
 feel that he was the cause of making her suffer. 
 That she was suffering was obvious. She had tuned 
 herself up to this great moment and her nerves 
 were tense ready to snap on the one hand or to 
 burst into a joyous ecstatic love-song upon the 
 other. And all for him! Why? he asked him 
 self. He had never said anything to her. He had 
 never given her any real encouragement. Com 
 pared with his conduct regarding Lulie, he had 
 acted toward her like a human icicle. It was rather 
 nice, though, to have a girl, particularly such a 
 stunner as Pauline, all fussed up over one ! Why, 
 hang it, the child was actually head over ears in 
 love with him ! She really was a dear ! He wanted 
 to put his arm around her and draw her tightly to 
 him and tell her how very, very nice he thought 
 she was; but something warned him not to do it. 
 It was not entirely the recollection of Ma Selby 
 either, although her gestures and figure were vividly 
 present in his mind. 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 295 
 
 Pauline was at times appallingly like her. These 
 athletic girls were apt to put on weight if they 
 stopped exercising even for a moment. He could 
 never stand a fat Pauline! Moreover, the remarks 
 of old lady Jones had given him something to think 
 about. He had been a fool even to consider Pauline 
 seriously. Imagine having. Pa Selby for a father- 
 in-law! There were plenty of good little fish in 
 the sea "goldfish" eager for the fly. It was 
 lucky he d not gone on with her as he had with 
 Lulie ! If he had, well he d have had to make 
 good, of course. But he had not and the situation 
 was all due to Pauline s own impetuous insistence 
 on getting what she wanted when she wanted it. 
 Apparently he was not to be consulted in the matter 
 at all. Pauline had always bought what pleased 
 her, and now she proposed to buy him; at least, 
 that was the way it looked. No ! No ! It would 
 take more millions than belonged to the Selbys to 
 make him surrender youth, freedom, Lulie, and 
 the possibility of a brilliant a " great" marriage. 
 Some woman had used the term, and it had stuck 
 in his mind. If he married at all that was what he 
 would make a "great" marriage. But mean 
 while Pauline was waiting for him to speak. 
 
 Gently he moved slightly away from her. 
 
 "What er what a lovely night!" he said awk 
 wardly. 
 
 Pauline did not reply. She had lowered her 
 head so that her face was in shadow. He felt the 
 imperceptible pressure of her body against his, and 
 
296 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 that she was trembling. Poor Pauline ! After her 
 calm assumption that she could do as she liked it 
 was tough luck for her. He also experienced a 
 certain contrition for having been the cause of 
 what he knew would be a deep humiliation, but 
 with due regard for his own safety it was obvious 
 that he could do nothing to make the situation 
 easier for her. In fact, he told himself the more 
 of a brute he was the better, for no explanation 
 that he could give in the nature of a confession or 
 expression of regret could help him. Anything he 
 might say would only hurt her pride the more. 
 He must remain in her eyes what he knew himself 
 to be or at least to have been in fact, a cad. In 
 voluntarily he uttered a smothered expression of 
 impatience at his predicament. She started and 
 half turned to him. Swiftly disengaging his arm 
 from hers, he said gruffly: 
 
 "Pretty cold out here, don t you think? Per 
 haps we d better go in." 
 
 Then it was that the taut strings of Pauline s 
 heart snapped. With a sort of sob she quickly 
 turned and half ran toward the companionway. 
 Tom started to follow her and then stopped. After 
 all, it was better to have the whole thing end just 
 that way to get it over once and for all ! He went 
 back to where they had been standing and stood 
 watching the moon for some time. Then he ut 
 tered a mild oath, and walked back to where Par- 
 radym was sitting. 
 
XXV 
 
 THE philosopher s head was almost entirely con 
 cealed in the collar of his ulster, but a projecting 
 pipe indicated that somewhere behind the collar 
 there must be a face. Tom sank down rather 
 gloomily beside him, and presently from the depths 
 of the ulster, like the voice of an oracle behind the 
 altar, a muffled voice remarked: 
 
 "Well, young un! Have you given hostages 
 to fortune?" 
 
 "No," replied Tom. "I am still white, twenty-one 
 and free ! I had a close squeak, though. e Alone 
 at last/ and all that sort of thing. Curse you ! I 
 believe you re responsible for almost landing me in 
 the net of matrimony." 
 
 "And you re not landed or at least hooked?" 
 
 "No!" 
 
 Parradym arose abruptly and slapped Tom s knee. 
 
 "You surprise me! Come down-stairs below 
 I believe is the proper term, and have a nightcap. 
 I want to talk to you. Congratulations, my son!" 
 
 They made their way to the smoking-room, where 
 Parradym ordered a hot toddy. 
 
 "Cold up there!" he grumbled. "I supposed 
 that after to-night you wouldn t need a chaperon." 
 
 Tom shook his head. 
 
 297 
 
298 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 "We all need em, I guess!" he remarked. In 
 fact he had begun to realize how close to the edges 
 of various precipices he had been disporting him 
 self He also recognized the indubitable fact that 
 Parry s advice given him at the outset of his New 
 port career had been wise, even if he had not seen 
 fit to follow it. 
 
 "Don t wait up !" said Parradym to the steward. 
 "I ll switch off the light." Then he turned to Tom, 
 his reddish face illuminated by a kindly smile. 
 
 "You haven t got tired of hothouse melons al 
 ready, have you?" 
 
 Tom laughed good-naturedly. 
 
 "Not tired of them exactly. Used to them, per 
 haps. They don t seem quite so much of a treat 
 as they did at first. But they still taste good." 
 
 "Any better than what you had in Cam 
 bridge ?" 
 
 Tom pondered this astonishing question. The 
 food at Memorial had in fact been appalling tough, 
 gristly steak, spotty potatoes, heavy bread, but 
 he had devoured it with a relish which was now 
 totally absent. 
 
 "No!" answered Tom frankly. "Of course, 
 they are better, only they don t taste so. You were 
 right, and so was old Billy Shakespeare when he 
 got off that bit about satiety dulling the edge of 
 appetite, or whatever it was." 
 
 "I didn t claim any originality," replied Parry. 
 "I merely tried to impress upon you the truth of 
 an ancient and quite familiar principle." 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 299 
 
 "But I didn t appreciate your good intentions. 
 However, I do now. Marrying a couple of mil 
 lion dollars doesn t seem half so exciting now as it 
 did six weeks ago." 
 
 "That s what I want to talk to you about." 
 
 Parry pulled his chair nearer. 
 
 "Of course, Shakespeare was right and was only 
 repeating a truth as old as Adam, who no doubt 
 ate more than one apple and got heartily sick of 
 them before he was driven out by the angel with 
 the flaming sword. You knew it yourself, only 
 you were loath to apply a familiar doctrine to a 
 new set of circumstances. I was just the same way 
 at your age. I was all for the peaches, the plums, 
 and the melons. I was satisfied that if I could get 
 them without effort I should be perfectly happy. 
 Well, I found it easy enough to get them, but I 
 soon found I didn t want them. For twenty years 
 I ve eaten nothing but the simplest kind of food. 
 I m speaking both literally and allegorically. We 
 don t enjoy anything we don t have to work for, 
 Tommy. I have to work hard at golf to get up an 
 appetite even for a boiled egg and a chop." 
 
 "Horrible example!" exclaimed Tom, who was, 
 nevertheless, keenly interested in Parradym s con 
 fession. 
 
 "Now what you say about marrying a couple 
 of millions interests me a good deal," continued 
 his friend. "I m almost afraid you have learned 
 your lesson too well. I hope you refer only to 
 marrying millions. 5 If so, I hope you ll stand by 
 
300 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 your guns. Only don t make the mistake of not 
 marrying at all if you honestly fall in love. Take 
 warning from my sad case. When I found I could 
 have my peaches and my melons for the asking, 
 I began to wonder if there was any advantage in 
 marrying anybody. I saw a lot of people who 
 were wretchedly unhappy together, and even more 
 wretched after they had dissolved their matri 
 monial ties. I discovered that marriage usually 
 meant children, anxiety, sickness, and death. I 
 took counsel of my fears. Why fall in love and 
 bring children into the world if by so doing I was 
 going to expose myself to the arrows of outrageous 
 fortune? My parents were both dead. Sorrow 
 couldn t touch me. Why invite unhappiness? If 
 I had no family I would have only myself to look 
 out for, to worry about, and when I died nobody 
 would suffer the agonies of bereavement on my 
 account. So I shut myself up in my shell and 
 built an iron wall around my affections to keep 
 out sorrow." 
 
 Parradym s face had grown very sad. 
 
 "I was a fool, Tom ! What wouldn t I give now 
 to have had sorrow ! Many s the time I ve envied 
 my friend with a dead child. Pain and joy go hand 
 in hand. Deaden your capacity for one and you 
 lose the other. To-day I d rather have had a year 
 or so with a woman I had loved, and have lost 
 her, than to be what I am a lonely, wifeless, 
 childless old man!" 
 
 "But not friendless!" said Tom gently. 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 301 
 
 " Sometimes I think I am," returned Parradym. 
 I know I am. You needn t protest. I impress 
 most people just as I impressed you at our first 
 meeting. Seriously, you can t imagine how lonely 
 I am, or how the vacuousness of my life palls upon 
 me. You see I ve dried up with the monotony of 
 it. And then there s the other side of it. We old 
 fellows without any responsibilities or emotions 
 haven t had the experiences which seem to give 
 other men the capacity for religious belief. Theo 
 retically, intellectually, and logically, too, I sup 
 pose I m just a selfish old materialist. I don t 
 believe in either heaven or hell, or in rewards or 
 punishments. There may be a God or there may 
 not for all I know. I ve got no wish to live, and 
 I ve got no will to die. One day is just like an 
 other. Some fellow Stephen Phillips, I think 
 has put it pretty well: 
 
 " would there were a heaven to hear ! 
 O would there were a hell to fear ! 
 Ah, welcome fire, eternal fire, 
 To burn forever and not tire ! 
 
 Better Ixion s whirling wheel, 
 
 And still at any cost to feel ! 
 
 Dear Son of God, in mercy give 
 
 My soul to flames, but let me live I " 
 
 Tom could think of nothing adequate to say in 
 response. For the first time he saw the real Par 
 radym. So he fidgeted with his glass, unable to 
 
302 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 speak, while the bachelor gazed in a sort of dream 
 at the big swinging lamp in the middle of the smok 
 ing-room ceiling. Unexpectedly he burst out laugh- 
 ing- 
 
 "Well, well!" he exclaimed jocularly, reaching 
 for a match, "I really quite forgot where I was. 
 It s not often I m taken that way. But don t give 
 up the idea of getting married, old top, will you?" 
 
 Parradym leaned forward and gazed deep into 
 Tom s eyes. 
 
 "If you ever meet a girl you love in the right 
 way, I mean, go after her through fire and water, 
 if need be, and don t let up until you get her or 
 you re dead. Only that way will you find happi 
 ness. Don t be scared off at the idea that mar 
 riage and childbirth mean work and worry and 
 pain and death. Thank God for the chance to work 
 and worry and suffer, and perhaps when you die 
 you ll feel that life was worth living. I m going to 
 bed!" 
 
 He got up and held out his hand to Tom who 
 took it, embarrassed at the seriousness and in 
 tensity of Parradym s outburst. He d never sus 
 pected that Parry wasn t happy! He seemed so 
 jovial and comfortable always having a good 
 time at other people s expense ! 
 
 Tom sat smoking for a long time after Parradym 
 had gone to his stateroom. He wondered if what 
 the old boy said was really true. Queer idea 
 about having to suffer in order to enjoy. He didn t 
 quite swallow that! He yawned. No, he hadn t 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 303 
 
 suffered at all and, by thunder, he d enjoyed a whole 
 lot. His thoughts reverted to Lulie as he turned off 
 the light, and sought the cabin upon which Pauline 
 had expended so much thought and attention in 
 preparation for him. 
 
 The wind blew itself out during the night, and 
 when Tom came on deck the yacht was running 
 fast through a sunlit ocean off the Isles of Shoals. 
 Pauline and her parents did not appear, and Tom 
 breakfasted in company with Parradym, whose 
 cheery, rubicund face gave no hint of its serious 
 ness upon the preceding evening. They kept well 
 out to sea, passed "The Rock" shortly after lunch, 
 and at the same time made landfall of the hills of 
 Mt. Desert, which, twenty miles away, slowly lifted 
 their great backs above the waves like huge un 
 dulating sea-monsters. To the eastward the irregu 
 larly indented coast of Maine stretched away until 
 it vanished into the autumn haze, to the west 
 the horizon was spotted with purple islands, and 
 before them, northward, ever loomed larger and 
 larger the gray mountains that had guided the 
 great Champlain, and the no less adventurous Du 
 Guast to safe harbors among their fir-covered head 
 lands. They were now directly in the lane of the 
 coast trade between Halifax and New York, and 
 passed many a lumber-laden schooner, her gun- 
 whales almost awash, and occasionally a smart 
 fisherman from Belfast or Camden. 
 
 Pauline made her appearance just in time for 
 afternoon tea, and took Parradym s chaffing with 
 
304 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 supreme good nature. It was obvious that she 
 did not intend to permit the incident of the night 
 before to affect her enjoyment of the rest of the 
 voyage, and there was something in her manner 
 which said to Tom as plainly as if she had spoken 
 the very words: "I acted like a little fool last night ! 
 Let us be friends." 
 
 Tom, who felt not altogether blameless in the 
 matter, made himself as agreeable as he could, and 
 all three were having a merry time of it by the time 
 the Pauline had turned her nose into Frenchman s 
 Bay. Tom, accustomed as he was to both moun 
 tains and seashore, had never seen anything so 
 beautiful as these precipitous hills mantled in their 
 autumn coloring which seemed to rise directly from 
 the shadowed waters of the bay to where, a thousand 
 feet or more above, their barren summits broke the 
 rays of the declining sun. The sea was a deep 
 blue, striped here and there with opalescent shades 
 deepening into purple. Green islands, almost yellow- 
 green in the afternoon light, lay all about them, the 
 channels between them picked out by the flashing 
 sails of yachts. Deep fiords here and there divided 
 the island, offering haven for fleets of war-ships. 
 Small racing-boats manned by bronzed girls and boys 
 raced across their bows. Swift launches darted 
 about with all the arbitrariness of water insects; the 
 air was at once fresh with the salt of the sea, and 
 odoriferous with the pine-laden breath of the near-by 
 forests. Ecstatically Pauline watched the white 
 surf creaming over the red rocks along the shore 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 305 
 
 of the " Ocean Drive" and against " Schooner 
 Head" as the yacht glided swiftly by, and when 
 they entered the deep shadow cast by Newport 
 Mountain, and could see high above them the 
 sunlight blazing through the pines upon its ridge, 
 and beyond the shadow the gleaming waters of 
 the inner bay studded with small green islands, she 
 demanded why she had never been informed that 
 such a heavenly place existed upon earth, and de 
 clared that she would never live anywhere else. 
 
 Presently the yacht emerged from the shadow 
 of the mountain into the sunlight, and rounding 
 one of the "Porcupines" dropped anchor in the 
 harbor. The stimulating air, his long sleep of 
 the night before, and the restful day spent upon the 
 deck of the Pauline gave Tom a sense of health 
 and moral cleanliness such as he had not experi 
 enced for weeks. Moreover, he was keenly sensi 
 tive to the exquisite beauty of their surroundings, 
 which, together with Pauline s friendliness, made 
 him almost happy. Mr. and Mrs. Selby joined 
 them soon after the yacht had gained the shelter 
 of the breakwater. Tom would have been glad 
 to go on shore at once to stretch his legs but Pauline 
 insisted that it was much too late, and made it 
 very clear that she wished him to remain with her. 
 
 Accordingly they strolled up and down the deck 
 watching the rapidly lengthening shadows of the 
 hills and the bald summits turning from bronze 
 to purple and then to gray, as the sun sank over 
 the westward ridges. The breeze freshened. Slowly 
 
306 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 the stars pierced the twilight, and presently, even 
 while the horizon was still flooded with red and 
 orange streamers, the yellow moon slowly forced 
 its way up above the pines of the eastern shore 
 of the bay, until the channel between the islands 
 was turned to undulating gold. 
 
 Tom was up betimes the next morning in a sin 
 gularly care-free frame of mind. The advice of his 
 erstwhile hostess, as well as Parradym s discourse 
 upon matrimony, had faded from his recollection. 
 In place of the sharp east wind of the previous 
 afternoon there was now a languorous southwest 
 breeze which enveloped the island in a golden haze. 
 The sun beat warm upon the deck. Clad in the 
 immaculate white flannels in which he had graced 
 the Casino at Newport, Tom, leaning idly against 
 the rail, smoked one of Pa Selby s after-breakfast 
 cigars, convinced that it was very good to be alive, 
 especially on board such a magnificent steam- 
 yacht as the Pauline. He experienced a recru 
 descence of those original feelings on his first morn 
 ing at "Beausejour" when he realized that he was 
 enjoying for nothing that which others had, at some 
 distant period perhaps, toiled to procure. After 
 all, he thought, perhaps he had been too hasty in 
 making up his mind to let Pauline go so easily. 
 Fascinating as Lulie was, a matrimonial adventure 
 with her might well prove unsatisfactory in the 
 long run. There was, he decided, a good deal to 
 be said in favor of playing the game of love along 
 the lines of respectability. 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 307 
 
 If, as Parradym had urged -nay, had even 
 implored him to believe, marriage was a sine qua 
 non of happiness, could he do better, after all, than 
 to take Pauline ? He tried to think of her detached 
 from her millions, and succeeded in convincing him 
 self, at least temporarily, that there were few more 
 charming girls to be found anywhere. Was she not 
 beautiful, or at least exceedingly pretty? Was she 
 not cheerful, bright, and well educated ? Indeed, was 
 she not far and away the most attractive young 
 woman that he had met that summer ? Could he, in 
 fact, do half as well ? Wasn t it rather hard on a girl 
 to throw her over simply because she was burdened 
 with a bank-account which was no fault of her 
 own? The millions would not do any harm. On 
 reconsidering the matter, it even seemed to Tom 
 that they might be of some slight advantage. With 
 out them, certainly, it was quite unlikely that he 
 could indulge in the pastime of yachting which he 
 now found so agreeable. 
 
 He made up his mind that Parradym had really 
 been rather disappointed at discovering that he had 
 not proposed to Pauline. Obviously it was Lulie 
 whom Parry was worrying about, and even if Pa 
 and Ma Selby were not to the manner born, were 
 occasionally guilty of slight solecisms, and sometimes 
 even of vulgarities, they were far and away prefer 
 able to many parents-in-law that he had seen even 
 at Newport. He admitted that, in his first excite 
 ment, he might have indulged in rather extravagant 
 dreams as to what he would do with Pauline, her 
 
308 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY - 
 
 money, and her yacht, after he had annexed them. 
 The idea of rushing off to the Ionian Isles, and that 
 sort of thing was obviously ridiculous. 
 
 As he gazed through the smoke of his cigar at 
 some of the palatial summer residences on the not 
 far distant shore, he concluded that the thing for 
 him to do after marrying Pauline was to buy a few 
 acres on the water-front and build a modest resi 
 dence with a private landing, where he could keep 
 a launch or two and a knock-about. He was too 
 active to go floating around the world without 
 any exercise, drinking champagne and playing 
 bridge. That could come later. For the present 
 they could spend their winters in a comfortable 
 apartment in New York, and their summers at Bar 
 Harbor, where he could take up golf, become the 
 champion tennis-player of Mt. Desert, and inciden 
 tally give Pauline all the opportunity she wished 
 for society. 
 
 He was in the midst of these reflections when he 
 heard his name called in a boyish voice from be 
 low. 
 
 "Oh, you Kelly!" it cried. 
 
 A canoe containing a tow-headed youth had 
 stolen up past the Pauline s stern, and its occupant 
 was now gently holding its nose to the wind while 
 making vigorous contortions of joy in the direc 
 tion of Tom, who had difficulty in recognizing this 
 friendly stranger since his face and bare arms were 
 burned so brown as to be almost black. 
 
 "It s me, you lobster! Crowninshield!" 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 309 
 
 "Hello, Dick!" shouted back Tom. "Thought 
 you were a nigger. Had breakfast yet?" 
 
 "Four hours ago," answered Crowninshield, who 
 had now brought the canoe to a point directly be 
 neath Tom. "What do you think I am, a gilded 
 loafer? What are you doing up there anyway?" 
 
 "Yachting," retorted Tom loftily, annoyed that 
 Dick should not have heard of his distinguished 
 career at Newport. 
 
 "Ain t you the swell though?" continued Crown 
 inshield. "You look as if you had just stepped 
 out of a department store. Put on a sweater and 
 come for a paddle with me." 
 
 "I m sorry," replied Tom, "but I have an en 
 gagement at the Casino." 
 
 " i Swimming-pool/ I suppose you mean," sniffed 
 Dick. "We don t have Casinos down here in Maine. 
 We leave em for the Newport chappies. How long 
 you going to stay?" 
 
 "I really don t know," answered Tom from above. 
 "I believe Mr. and Mrs. Selby expect to stay about 
 a week." 
 
 At that moment he felt a curious superiority to 
 his former friend and clubmate. Ever since he had 
 entered college, particularly during his Woolsack 
 period and up to his experience at Newport, Tom 
 had always regarded Dick as a tremendous swell, 
 his family one of those whom Tom had been 
 brought up to regard with an almost religious awe. 
 His two months at Newport, however, had changed 
 his point of view completely. To the now elegant 
 
310 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 and cosmopolitan Kelly his provincial Bostonian 
 friend seemed a person of very little consequence, 
 virtuous perhaps, but not at all interesting. And 
 yet it was not this attitude which caused him to 
 hesitate, as he was hesitating, to invite Dick on 
 board the yacht. It was rather the subcutaneous 
 suspicion that while he, Tom, was quite satisfied 
 with the change in himself which the two months 
 had wrought, his friend might have a more critical 
 attitude. He was not obtuse to the contrast between 
 the brown muscularity of the lad in the canoe and 
 his own sleek puffiness due to high living. It was 
 different at Newport. Everybody was the same 
 down there. But his old chum looked as if he kept 
 in training all the year round. Somehow Tom did 
 not fancy the idea of Dick looking him over, and 
 perhaps saying in his rough, blunt way: "Getting 
 fat, aren t you, old top?" 
 
 The fact could not be dodged that "old top" had 
 been getting fat. If he had, however, it was none 
 of Dick s business. 
 
 "Saw in the paper that Calkins wiped up the 
 ground with you in the fourth round of the In 
 ternational Tournament," continued his clubmate 
 somewhat severely. "I lost ten dollars on you, 
 curse you ! We were all betting here that you 
 would be f runner-up J at least. What was the 
 matter with you?" 
 
 "The better man won," said Tom, with an echo 
 of the grandiloquence with which he had offered 
 his hand to Calkins at the Casino after his defeat. 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 311 
 
 "Too much lush, / guess !" growled the boy in 
 the canoe. "I was afraid of it in Cambridge. You 
 were crooking your elbow an awful lot, long before 
 Class Day." 
 
 Tom made no reply to this insult. In fact there 
 was none to be made. It was "lush" that had done 
 it, and he knew it. He also knew that "lush" was 
 still doing it, but in spite of his intolerant and rather 
 insolent attitude, there was a friendliness about 
 Crowninshield that kept Tom from taking offense. 
 He began to reconsider his decision not to invite 
 Dick to come aboard. Still uncertain as to his 
 course in the matter, he temporized by demanding 
 sharply : 
 
 "What are you doing around here yourself?" 
 
 "Oh, tutoring," answered the crewman. "Got 
 two sub-freshman brats over at Seal Harbor. Mother 
 pays me twenty-five a week to act as dry nurse. 
 They re not bad kids, though. One of them can 
 pitch an incurve that would puzzle old Slide Kelly 
 your namesake. It isn t bad fun, if you like boys. 
 Besides I m boning up for the law school. Going 
 to try to do three years work in two, so I can get 
 married a year sooner. Knew I was engaged, didn t 
 you? No? Well, I am. To Becky Chase. You 
 met her on Class Day." 
 
 Tom had met her, a red-cheeked, rather robust, 
 and very Bostonese young lady, whose father was 
 the clergyman of a small church in Milton. He 
 was about to formulate some congratulatory re 
 mark of a properly elegant character when he heard 
 
312 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 the swish of a skirt, and Pauline joined him at the 
 rail. 
 
 "Miss Selby, allow me to present my friend, Mr. 
 Richard Crowninshield," said Tom in a dignified 
 manner. 
 
 The tow-headed crewman grinned at Pauline and 
 waved his hand. 
 
 "How d y do!" he called up. "Saw your yacht 
 come in yesterday afternoon, and so I paddled over 
 from Seal Harbor this morning to look her over. 
 Didn t expect to find Tom here." 
 
 He gazed at Pauline admiringly. 
 
 "She s a beauty!" he remarked with some am 
 biguity, looking at Tom. 
 
 "Won t you come on board, Mr. Crowninshield?" 
 asked Pauline. "We should be delighted to see 
 any of Mr. Kelly s friends." 
 
 "I don t mind," answered Crowninshield. 
 
 Paddling toward the companionway, which was 
 situated some fifty feet farther forward, he tied 
 the canoe to one of the brass stanchions and sprang 
 lightly up the steps, with an elasticity and verve 
 that filled Tom with envy. 
 
 He was rather shocked at his friend s clothing, 
 which consisted apparently of a sleeveless jersey, 
 white duck trousers fastened with a narrow leather 
 belt, and a pair of white sneakers into which his 
 feet were thrust through heavy gray knitted 
 woollen socks. Tom suspected that he had nothing 
 else on at all. Crowninshield looked in fact more 
 like one of the crew of the Pauline in a moment of 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 313 
 
 relaxation than a collegian, although in face and 
 figure he resembled a young Viking. 
 
 Pauline was obviously much struck with their 
 visitor and insisted, to Tom s annoyance, on taking 
 him over the boat. The two were gone some time, 
 during which Tom ruminated on the fickleness of 
 womankind. 
 
XXVI 
 
 "WHAT a nice boy !" exclaimed Pauline, as Dick, 
 with a final wave of his paddle, drove the canoe 
 bounding toward the breakwater. "So intelligent 
 and good-looking !" 
 
 "Yes bully fellow!" responded Tom, without 
 enthusiasm. Somehow Crowninshield s unexpected 
 arrival had put his nose out of joint. He hadn t 
 at all liked the way Pauline had started right into 
 run after the fellow. But Dick had been just as 
 bad. It was quite evident that he had been smitten. 
 Well, anyhow, he was safely tied up engaged to 
 that yellow-haired doll in Milton, compared with 
 whom Pauline was a goddess yes, a goddess ! 
 Of course, she d make a hit at Bar Harbor, and 
 there d be a dozen fellows after her. If he was 
 going to do anything it was high time before her 
 attention became distracted. She would be a won 
 derful girl even if she didn t have a cent. Indeed, 
 she would ! And she had the money besides. 
 Wouldn t he be a fool to throw her away? He 
 turned and gave her a naval salute. 
 
 "Well, commander!" he said, "Shall I order the 
 launch to take us ashore?" 
 
 Tom had been under no misapprehension about 
 Pauline s making a hit at Bar Harbor. Indeed, 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 315 
 
 she was surrounded by a horde of very young men 
 from the moment she placed her foot upon the 
 Dirigo Landing stage, and Tom and Parradym 
 found themselves shoved entirely into the back 
 ground by an eager band of young suitors, who 
 swarmed over the yacht at all hours and rushed 
 Pauline by carriage across the island to distant in 
 accessible spots for afternoon walks and moonlight 
 picnics. Tom, in fact, began for the first time to 
 feel a slight tinge of jealousy at Pauline s ready 
 neglect. Moreover, he was forced more than was 
 agreeable to content himself with the society of 
 Pa and Ma Selby, whose banal conversation soon 
 drove him to seek refuge in solitary walks upon the 
 shore. He decided that he was being placed in a 
 rather ridiculous position and after twelve days 
 of semiboredom proposed to Pauline that they 
 should climb a mountain together. 
 
 It was a cloudless autumn morning, and in the 
 translucent atmosphere the distant mountain-tops 
 seemed close at hand, and following a well-marked 
 path over a pine-covered spur, they soon climbed 
 to where the town and harbor seemed to be lying at 
 their very feet. There, too, at her mooring lay the 
 Pauline. The air was full of the soft, fragrant smell 
 of pine-needles and sunburnt moss. Above them 
 an eagle hung, a dark speck against the deep blue 
 of the sky s arc. Pauline sat down to rest for a 
 moment upon a ledge of rock, stained with lichen, 
 from whose moss-grown crevices peeped tiny flowers. 
 Eastward the Atlantic rose against the white hori- 
 
316 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 zon, here patched with windless spots, there flur 
 ried with catspaws. It was a soundless, motionless 
 world, save for the flicker of a few small birds among 
 the yellow birches and scarlet sumacs. Nature 
 was resting. In the lazy morning sunlight she was 
 luxuriating after her summer, and drowsily lying 
 without even drawing breath. The air had that 
 warmth and yet that freshness that at once sends 
 a glow to the heart and thrills the senses. The 
 leaves had not yet fallen. On the near-by moun 
 tainsides the background of the evergreens was 
 mottled with irregular patches of brown, of purplish 
 red, of rose picked out here and there with one 
 golden gleam of a single tree or one drop of scarlet 
 blood. 
 
 Presently Pauline silently arose and began fol 
 lowing the path again. Soon they reached the 
 crest of the nearest ridge, and they could see be 
 hind them all the blue waters of Frenchman s Bay, 
 dotted with spruce-covered islands. The hills lay 
 all around them, their tumbled outlines fixed in 
 a wrinkled smile. To the west lay sixty miles of 
 coast, island outlying island, with dim, distant 
 shapes of islands still beyond, bounded by the 
 misty ghosts of vague hills to the northward and 
 the still, even line of the horizon to the south. Along 
 this moved almost imperceptible little dots the 
 markers of ocean traffic along the great highway 
 from Cape Sable to Pollock Rip. 
 
 As Tom gazed about him he could not but marvel 
 at the glory of nature. It was, as Parradym had 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 317 
 
 said that very first evening at Newport, immortal. 
 There was no note of death in this radiance of the 
 visible world; it was the blush of health, not the 
 iridescence of decay the leap of sap at the first 
 touch of frost. 
 
 A kind of exaltation stole over Tom, and his 
 dormant spirit, submerged in materialism, raised 
 itself in response to the beauty about him. Here 
 on this mountain-top the world lay at his feet 
 a radiant world. As he inhaled deep breaths of 
 the keen autumn air, his heart thumped against 
 his ribs with the unaccustomed exertion of climb 
 ing, and the blood tingled in his fingers and toes. 
 He felt gloriously alive for the first time in months; 
 strong with the resilient virility of youth; and for 
 an instant saw the vision that youth only glimpses 
 followed the glean until it vanished over "the 
 uttermost purple rim." What a world! What 
 ecstasy to be young young as in truth he was, 
 like Crowninshield ! He wanted to shout across 
 the valleys to the neighboring ridges, to hurl in 
 anities against some echoing cliff, to stretch up his 
 arms and clutch that hovering eagle from the 
 clouds, to push some huge boulder from its pre 
 historic bed, and roll it down the mountainside. 
 He did, in fact, attempt to throw a dozen or so of 
 small rocks into the ravine beneath them and was 
 rather disappointed to find how far short they fell 
 of their goal. Having worked off his superfluous 
 energy, he sat down again to a calmer appreciation 
 of the scene around him. Pauline was resting upon 
 
3i8 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 a neighboring ledge, her full young bosom rising and 
 falling rapidly. Seen sharply in profile against the 
 sky-line, her neck and chin bore a grotesque resem 
 blance to her mother s. The discovery distressed 
 Tom, coming as it did just as his soul was quiver 
 ing with romance. 
 
 While his spirit eye flashed across the smoulder 
 ing ocean to the opalescent cloud-banks on the 
 eastern horizon, his material eye fixed itself rather 
 critically upon the proposed object of his affections. 
 Yes, she certainly did look like her mother the 
 line from the point of her chin to the little curl be 
 tween the cords on the back of her neck was too 
 long, much too long. But that wasn t her mother s; 
 the neck was Pa Selby s ! Not that it mattered 
 particularly whether a girl looked like her mother 
 or her father, only Tom had always recognized the 
 fact that Pa Selby had a rather undesirable neck. 
 In its mature and completely developed state it 
 was equipped with two small rolls of fatty tissue 
 on the back. Of course Pauline wouldn t ever 
 be like that, but the realization that she had any 
 thing at all of her father about her was like having 
 a skeleton at his feast. 
 
 She looked around at Tom just at that moment, 
 conscious that he was gazing at her, and smiled 
 frankly at him. She was a nice girl, even if she did 
 look like her father and mother. But the altera 
 tion of her position produced another unfortunate 
 result, disclosing as it did a row of tiny beads of 
 perspiration upon her upper lip and forehead. At 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 319 
 
 any other time or on any other girl the natural 
 result of physical exercise would not have affected 
 Tom unpleasantly, but coming upon the heels of 
 his appreciation of her resemblance to her paternal 
 parent, it discomfited him. He would, under the 
 circumstances, have hesitated to kiss her. 
 
 But Pauline saw only adoration in Tom s glance, 
 and she blushed quite prettily and cast down her 
 eyes. It is doubtless too much to assert that of 
 themselves these trivial physical facts would have 
 altered the course of Tom s entire future life. Hav 
 ing made up his mind to marry into the Selby fam 
 ily, he would probably have carried out his pur 
 pose even with the additional discovery, inevitably 
 apparent under the noonday glare, that Pauline s 
 upper lip was covered with a slight down. Tom 
 had never kissed Pauline. He had never really 
 wished to kiss her. And now, although he knew 
 perfectly well that she was ready to fall into his 
 arms, he was forced to admit that the idea of kissing 
 her was distasteful would require an effort. As 
 she sat there "hunched up" on the rock, she gave 
 an impression of being rather pudgy. After all, 
 Parry had probably been right that time when he 
 had declared the whole sex business was over 
 played. There they were alone in a beautiful place 
 surrounded by the mountains, the sea, and the 
 sky. He might as well get it over with. He felt 
 quite clear that he wanted to put the business 
 through, no matter what ! Pauline might not be 
 a pocket Venus, but she was an almighty pretty 
 
320 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 girl, and Lulie was out of the question for several 
 conclusive reasons. His heart began to thump 
 violently, and the blood surged up into his ears 
 and eyes, not from emotion, but from excitement. 
 He dimly heard himself clear his throat and say: 
 
 "Pauline I I want to say something to you!" 
 
 He saw her turn a darker red. He had difficulty 
 in forcing himself to go on, for he felt like a house 
 breaker. She was such an easy mark. But two 
 millions ! She was looking away from him with 
 a studied air of unconsciousness. 
 
 "You know," he continued, "I " 
 
 He stopped abruptly. From above came the 
 sound of voices and the rattle of displaced stones. 
 Two strangers were approaching along the path. 
 Pauline raised her head impatiently. The climbers 
 were now in plain view, striding swiftly toward 
 them. Obviously, it was no time for him to clasp 
 Pauline s well-developed figure in his arms and 
 press her downy cheek to his. There would of 
 necessity have to be a short intermission in the 
 programme. Then the interrupted act could go 
 on. He experienced an extraordinary sense of re 
 lief. He wondered if people who were going to be 
 hanged felt like that when they were reprieved. 
 
 "Somebody s coming!" he remarked, throwing 
 into his voice a note of disgust which he by no 
 means felt. 
 
 "Yes," replied Pauline wearily. 
 
 The climbers were now almost upon them. Tom 
 arose and lit a cigarette with a degage air, then 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 321 
 
 struck a picturesque pose as a girl came bounding 
 up the path. 
 
 " Why, Tom!" 
 
 He turned quickly to find himself confronted 
 by Evelyn, her hand outstretched, a smile upon her 
 face. She was clad in dark-brown khaki, and wore 
 walking-breeches covered by a short skirt, beneath 
 which Tom could see a pair of slender, brown- 
 stockinged calves terminating in two small moc 
 casins. Around her neck was a bright-red, loosely 
 knotted, flowing tie that appeared to reflect the color 
 in her dark-olive cheeks. To Tom she seemed like 
 a lithesome youth, a beautiful boy some cupbearer 
 of the gods. His heart gave a single great leap. 
 
 "Tom! Whoever expected to meet you here! 
 Dad! It s Tom Kelly!" 
 
 She made no attempt to conceal her pleasure. 
 As for poor, jaded Tom it was like suddenly stum 
 bling upon an ice-cold, limpid spring in the midst 
 of an arid plain. 
 
 "Evelyn!" he cried, eagerly wringing her hand. 
 
 "Pew tooth!" 
 
 "Pew tooth yourself!" 
 
 They carolled joyously at this mystic counter 
 sign, and Pauline looked around at them almost 
 as if annoyed. 
 
 "Oh, Pauline!" There was an unaccustomed 
 freshness in Tom s voice a new note. "Miss 
 Selby, I want to present Miss Russell." 
 
 Evelyn crossed to where Pauline was sitting and 
 offered her hand. 
 
322 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 "How do you do?" she said cordially. 
 
 Pauline took the hand without arising from her 
 rock. There was something about this young 
 Hebe that she instinctively did not like. 
 
 "How do you do?" she remarked stiffly. "Ex 
 cuse my not getting up 1" 
 
 At that moment Professor Russell joined them 
 and, after greeting Tom, was likewise presented 
 to Miss Selby, who made it quite apparent that 
 she was rather bored by the whole incident. Evelyn 
 and her father, however, were clearly delighted at 
 meeting Tom, and charmed at being introduced 
 to Miss Selby. Tom somehow vaguely resented 
 the fact that Evelyn accepted his being alone upon 
 a mountain-top with a young lady quite as a matter 
 of course. He would have preferred to have her 
 take it more as Pauline had done. It appeared 
 that the Russells were staying at Seal Harbor, and 
 were enjoying their annual week s tramp over the 
 hills of Mt. Desert before the opening of the uni 
 versity. They had started before sunrise, had 
 climbed Sargeant, crossed "The Bubbles" to Eagle 
 Lake and Green Mountain, and were now about to 
 descend its southern ridge, returning home by way 
 of Jordan s Pond a ten-hour trip. The mere re 
 cital of the undertaking filled Tom with astonish 
 ment and Pauline with fatigue. The Russells had 
 followed Tom s career in the National Tournament 
 with interest, and had been greatly disappointed at 
 its early blight. 
 
 He watched them disappear up the mountainside 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 323 
 
 with regret. He would have liked to go along with 
 them get hold of the professor for a good long 
 talk, and chuck Pauline entirely. It seemed ages 
 since that evening at the little house on Appian 
 Way. He wondered what had become of Frank 
 True, and felt a stab at his heart as he recalled 
 the humiliating experiences of Class Day. Well, 
 plainly Evelyn bore him no resentment. Instinc 
 tively he contrasted her trim figure and agile men 
 tality with the ample proportions and slower 
 intellectual processes of his companion. What a 
 corking girl she was ! All the virtues of Pauline 
 combined with the fire and cleverness of Lulie. 
 Well, he d lost his chance, such as it was. Par- 
 radym s words, the first night out, came back to 
 his mind: "If you ever meet a girl you love in 
 the right way go after her through fire and 
 water, if need be, and don t let up until you get 
 her, or you re dead." He sighed. If he d only 
 known as much about woman then as he did now ! 
 It was too late. But that was the kind of girl one 
 could love in the right way ! He turned to dis 
 cover Pauline gazing at him suspiciously. 
 
 "Who was your young friend?" she inquired. 
 
 "Oh, a girl I used to know in Cambridge," he 
 answered carelessly. 
 
 They sat in silence for several minutes. The 
 unexpected appearance of the Russells had pro 
 duced a sudden change in the atmosphere. The 
 temperature had distinctly lowered. The words 
 Tom had uttered seemed to have been still-born. 
 
324 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 Yet the girl lingered, evidently still hoping that 
 he might speak. 
 
 "Well," he remarked when the silence had at 
 length become embarrassing, "what do you think, 
 shall we go on down again?" 
 
 Pauline made one last effort. 
 
 "You were just going to say something when 
 your friends came along," she reminded him. 
 "What was it?" 
 
 It was a blatant challenge, unmaidenly per 
 haps, but, let us hope, excusable. 
 
 Tom looked at her blankly. Then he took out 
 his gold case, offered it to her, and lit a cigarette 
 as if trying hard to remember something. 
 
 "Was I?" he asked in a puzzled fashion. "I 
 haven t the remotest idea what I was going to 
 say." 
 
 The return trip of the yacht was accomplished 
 without incident, and she dropped her anchor in 
 the East River with the relations of Pauline and 
 Tom still, so far at least as the girl was concerned, 
 in statu quo. Whatever it was that had choked 
 off Tom s proposal upon the mountain still operated 
 effectually to gag him. Pauline herself had not 
 offered him any further opportunity. She had 
 assumed an air of indifference. She was in fact 
 listless and miserable. 
 
 "Didn t he speak to you?" had demanded her 
 mother, on their return to the yacht. 
 
 Pauline shook her head. 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 325 
 
 "He didn t and he won t!" she answered dis 
 consolately. "Something s come over him." 
 
 "I never heard of such a thing!" retorted Ma 
 Selby with a maternal resentment. "I should have 
 thought he would have just jumped at such a chance. 
 Of course, he will soon. All he needs is a little 
 help. Young men never know just how to go about 
 a thing like that. Why I had to ask your pa, my 
 self!" 
 
 Mr. Selby was even more outspoken. The young 
 jackanapes! Had he popped yet? What did he 
 think they d asked him off on the yacht for, any 
 how? He d stir him up, he would. Of course, it 
 was just laziness. At this Pauline, however, pro 
 tested vigorously. There was no use trying to force 
 people, and, after all, she had only known Tom two 
 months. He was a dear boy, but she could get 
 on without him if need be. They must promise 
 to leave the whole thing to her. And this they 
 somewhat reluctantly did. 
 
 Tom had written to his mother from Bar Harbor 
 that he expected to look for a position in New York, 
 and that as soon as he should be successful he would 
 run on to Boston to see her. Meantime, he said, 
 his address would be "The Waldorf" where the 
 Selbys had an apartment, and where they had asked 
 him to come to them for a few days at the end of 
 the cruise. As nothing had occurred which would 
 justify the withdrawal of this invitation, and as 
 both Pauline s parents, whatever may have been 
 that young lady s private opinion, confidently ex- 
 
326 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 pected Tom to make good at an early date, no 
 reason existed for any change of plan. This was 
 indeed a fortunate solution of Tom s difficulties, 
 since he was entirely devoid of funds, and would 
 otherwise have been obliged to seek shelter with 
 Mrs. Jones at Roslyn. 
 
 Tom accordingly arrived at the Waldorf under 
 circumstances which might well have induced the 
 belief that he was, or at least was about to become, 
 a permanent adjunct of the Selby menage, a con 
 summation which in the eyes of the clerks, head- 
 waiters, hall-boys, bartenders, porters, and other 
 attendants was devoutly to be wished and which 
 rendered him an object of their tenderest regard. 
 For Pa Selby was well-known at the hostelry, not 
 only as a distributor of fabulous largess, but as 
 a giver of tips upon the market which had enabled 
 more than one employee to retire upon a fixed in 
 come. 
 
 A smiling valet welcomed Tom to a suite di 
 rectly across the hall from the apartment occupied 
 by the Selbys. His evening clothes were already 
 laid out in faultless order upon the bed, and a bath 
 was ready for him in the adjacent white-tiled bath 
 room. There was even a tiny sitting-room with 
 upholstered chairs and a mahogany table, upon 
 which under a Tiffany glass lamp had been placed 
 the evening papers. It was, he thought, almost 
 as "swell" as "Beausejour." He bathed, dressed 
 with luxurious deliberation, and, having a few 
 minutes to spare before the dinner hour, bethought 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 327 
 
 him of calling up Lulie s apartment, of which she 
 had given him the number, on the chance of finding 
 her in New York. Rather to his surprise she an 
 swered the telephone herself and, to his relief, he 
 discerned nothing in her tone to indicate that she 
 resented his having abandoned her to go yachting 
 with his present host. The sound of her low voice 
 over the wire thrilled him as it had done the first 
 evening that he had met her at the Scotts . She 
 had found herself lonely at Newport, she told him, 
 and returned to the city for the autumn. Lonely 
 for whom? Perhaps he could guess. Anyhow, 
 telephones were such horrid, public things! 
 Wouldn t he come up to see her at her apartment 
 that evening? She was tired and wasn t going out. 
 Tom, who had business to talk over with Mr. Selby, 
 for once permitted discretion to prevail over in 
 clination, and invited her to dine and go to the 
 play with him the following evening instead. Then 
 with a few whispered partings so low that even 
 an experienced telephone-girl would have had dif 
 ficulty in interpreting them he hung up the re 
 ceiver, his veins throbbing riotously. 
 
 The Selbys were on the point of going down to 
 dinner when he joined them in their elaborate draw 
 ing-room. Tom, who had never been in a big New 
 York hotel before, was amazed and even rather 
 dazzled at the crowds of people, the lights and the 
 noise, and it is probable that he might have felt 
 somewhat ill at ease had he not been personally 
 conducted by Mr. Selby, who was received by the 
 
328 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 head waiter with magnificent, and at the same time 
 with affectionate, distinction. With an all-embrac 
 ing wave of his hand, intended to indicate that 
 whatever they saw was theirs, he led the way to 
 an orchid-decked table in the centre of the room, 
 simultaneously inquiring with solicitude after the 
 health of Monsieur, Madame and Mademoiselle 
 Selbee. Pauline s drooping spirits seemed to re 
 vive in this friendly atmosphere like withering 
 flowers under a warm rain. Evidently she was 
 quite at home in hotels, and a general favorite in 
 this one. She chatted familiarly with the " Cap 
 tain," who took their order, about various Al- 
 phonses, Pierres, and Victors, and ordered special 
 dishes, her penchant for which was obviously well- 
 known to him. Before long she had engaged the 
 almost undivided attention of five waiters, had or 
 dered a window opened and the door closed. But 
 the readiness with which all her demands were ac 
 ceded to was fully explained by the size of the bill 
 which Mr. Selby left beside his finger-bowl at the 
 conclusion of the meal. Once more Tom congratu 
 lated himself that he was getting a free ride. He 
 wondered what the cost of a dinner could be when 
 you gave the waiter five dollars at the end of it. 
 Glancing stealthily at the menu under the guise of 
 selecting a dessert, he rapidly calculated that they 
 had certainly eaten at least thirty dollars worth. 
 If he was going to keep up his end with Lulie he 
 would have to begin to get busy ! 
 
 They left the table, the ladies carrying with them 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 329 
 
 most of the decorations which had been pressed 
 upon them by the attendants, and Mr. Selby sug 
 gested that Tom and he should have their coffee 
 in the foyer, where they could see "all the folks." 
 Accordingly they strolled through "Peacock Alley," 
 where Tom secured his first glimpse of that be 
 wildering concatenation of humanity which makes 
 a New York hotel one of the most interesting places 
 upon the globe, and finally came to anchor in the 
 cafe, where the waiter brought Mr. Selby his own 
 special box of cigars from the "humidor." 
 
 Mr. Selby had been carefully considering the 
 problem of Tom s relations to Pauline ever since 
 the yacht had left from Bar Harbor, and had con 
 cluded that the secret of Tom s hesitancy lay in 
 the fact that as yet he, as prospective father-in- 
 law, had said nothing definite regarding the ma 
 terial future. He remembered perfectly what he 
 had told Tom about the brokerage business, and 
 attributed his tardiness in declaring his intentions 
 to a natural desire to be at least apparently self- 
 supporting. Therefore, after he had finished his 
 cognac, he approached the subject with character 
 istic subtlety by remarking: 
 
 "Well, I suppose you want me to make good 
 on what I said about giving you my business." 
 
 To the credit of our hero it must be here as 
 serted that Tom had never consciously associated 
 Mr. Selby s offer of financial assistance with his 
 daughter s future matrimonial arrangements. He 
 did not do so now. On the contrary, he merely at- 
 
330 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 tributed to Mr. Selby a generous friendliness toward 
 himself entirely divorced from any interest that 
 he might be supposed to have in Pauline. 
 
 "I ll be mighty grateful/ he answered readily 
 enough, "if you give me any of your business. It 
 would be pretty tough starting out here in New 
 York without any backing." 
 
 "Bet your life!" agreed Pa Selby succinctly. 
 "A hard crowd to break into, believe me. But I 
 can fix you up. There ain t many brokerage firms 
 that would turn down my business. I ll give you 
 a letter right now to Westbury & Wheatland, my 
 brokers, and tell em to make you a special 
 partner." 
 
 "Oh, do you think they d do that?" asked Tom, 
 aghast. 
 
 "We ll see whether they will or not!" declared 
 Mr. Selby. "Maybe you don t appreciate what 
 a pull I ve got down-town. And my pull is yours. 
 See? That is if we pull together," he added sig 
 nificantly. 
 
 Tom, however, did not grasp the connotation. 
 
 "I guess there won t be any difficulty about 
 that!" he assured his host with enthusiasm. 
 
 Mr. Selby s expression relaxed and his face 
 beamed. 
 
 "I m glad to hear you say that, son!" he ex 
 claimed. "Put it there/" 
 
 And he held out his hand. 
 
 On Wall Street Tom experienced some difficulty 
 in finding the brokerage office of Westbury & Wheat- 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 331 
 
 land to whom Mr. Selby had given him his letter 
 of introduction. In spite of the self-confidence 
 engendered by his successful social career at New 
 port, he could not help feeling somewhat insignif 
 icant amid the throng upon the sidewalks. But 
 at any rate his frame of mind was entirely differ 
 ent from that of the famous Dick Whittington on 
 his arrival in London with his mouse-trap in his 
 pocket. Whittington had intended to be lord mayor 
 of London, but to be mayor of New York would not 
 have satisfied Tom. His vision resembled rather 
 that of Lord Rosebery, with the slight difference, 
 however, that Mr. Tom purposed to marry not 
 only one of the richest, but also one of the most 
 beautiful women in the country. Nevertheless, with 
 all his self-assurance, he did not create any notice 
 able stir upon Broadway, and could hardly be said 
 to have attracted any attention at all except from 
 two yellow-haired young ladies who were drinking 
 soda-water at the fountain of Mr. Blake s corner 
 drug-store, and for whose approving regard our 
 hero felt duly grateful. 
 
 He had rather anticipated that the abode of 
 Westbury & Wheatland would turn out to be a 
 stately building of Carrara marble with plate-glass 
 windows through which the passers-by could discern 
 at a respectful distance the partners themselves, 
 moving among their customers arrayed in frock 
 coats and tall silk hats. That at least had been 
 the impression conveyed to him by Mr. Selby; 
 but the number of Wall Street which corresponded 
 
332 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 with the one upon the envelope in his hand proved 
 to belong to a dingy, brown-stone structure whose 
 narrow hallway was paved with dirty marble, and 
 whose stairs were cramped and winding. West- 
 bury & Wheatland were not even upon the ground 
 floor. They were only up one flight, however, and 
 Tom, having climbed the necessary distance, found 
 himself in a sunny suite of old-fashioned green- 
 carpeted offices, full of deep-seated leather chairs 
 and sofas, and hung with railroad maps. A group 
 of men were standing around the ticker by the 
 window, and at one end of the room a clerk in an 
 alpaca jacket was busily hanging up little square 
 figures to indicate the prices at which the various 
 stocks were selling across the way in the big ex 
 change. There were perhaps ten persons in the 
 entire place, and Tom looked vainly for some em 
 ployee to whom he could state his business. No 
 body appeared to wait on him, however, and as the 
 youth hanging up the numbers hardly seemed free 
 to run errands, Tom had no choice but to grapple 
 with the situation himself. Accordingly, still wear 
 ing his hat, since he noticed that most of the other 
 persons in the office were wearing theirs, he ap 
 proached the ticker, and accosted the first back he 
 saw there. 
 
 "Beg pardon, could you tell me where to find 
 Mr. Westbury?" he ventured. 
 
 The particular back toward which he had di 
 rected the inquiry remained seemingly oblivious 
 of his existence. It was a well-shaped back with 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 333 
 
 broad shoulders, and covered with what the Cam 
 bridge tailors had been accustomed to describe 
 as a "nobby" suit of black-and-white check. The 
 back proving unresponsive to merely verbal ap 
 proach, Tom unhesitatingly tapped its owner on 
 the shoulder. 
 
 "Can you tell me" he repeated; but the com 
 pletion of the sentence was interrupted by the 
 sudden turning around of the man to whom the 
 back belonged. 
 
 "Eh?" he began. He gazed quizzically at Tom 
 out of not altogether friendly gray eyes. "Well, 
 I ll be damned!" he concluded. 
 
 Tom recoiled abruptly. He had not expected 
 thus to encounter Lulie s husband at the thresh 
 old of his budding financial career. He found him 
 self growing uncomfortably warm, and with his 
 heart pounding violently. He was in fact quite 
 unable to speak. 
 
 Mr. Wingate seemed fully appreciative of the 
 humor of the situation. 
 
 "Not looking for me, are you?" he asked, smiling. 
 
 Tom swallowed and shook his head. He was 
 looking for one of the firm, he said. He had a letter 
 of introduction which he wished to present in person. 
 
 "That s all right," responded Wingate, "I m 
 a member of the firm myself. You want to talk 
 to Westbury, I presume. Give me your letter and 
 I ll take it in to him. Don t mind waiting a few 
 minutes, do you?" 
 
 Tom would have surrendered the contents of 
 
334 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 the Congressional Library had he been possessed 
 of it in order to get rid of Wingate at that moment, 
 and he unhesitatingly handed over the letter which 
 Mr. Selby had given him. It was rather a staggerer 
 to find that Wingate was a member of Westbury 
 & Wheatland. He wondered, as he waited, if it 
 really wouldn t create an impossible situation. 
 You could hardly expect an injured husband to 
 take his wife s corespondent into business with 
 him, could you? Well, Selby would put him in 
 somewhere else that was just as good. There was 
 more than one office on Wall Street. He began to 
 feel better. The men around the ticker were all 
 smoking cigars, and Tom taking out his elegant 
 gold case began to smoke too a cigarette. He 
 was surprised at the rapidity with which the prices 
 of the stocks changed upon the board at the end 
 of the room. The men at the ticker did not seem 
 conscious of his presence, and once, to show that 
 he was quite at home, Tom strolled over and ran 
 the tape through his fingers, quickly retreating, 
 however, startled at his own temerity. Wingate 
 was taking an awfully long time! He kicked his 
 heels together nervously. Who did they think he 
 was, anyhow, to be kept waiting in that fashion? 
 Presently, however, Lulie s husband came out of 
 the inner office and nodded to him. 
 
 "Afl right," he said. "Mr. Westbury would 
 like to have you step inside. By the way," he 
 added, "when you get through with him I d like 
 a word with you myself if you don t mind." 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 335 
 
 Mr. Westbury, a florid, keen-eyed man with a 
 close gray mustache, arose and shook hands with 
 Tom, and motioned him to a seat. He had the air 
 of having all the time in the world. 
 
 "Mr. Selby says you are looking for a job." 
 
 "That s it," answered Tom, with an easy as 
 surance which he was far from feeling. 
 
 Mr. Westbury tapped his desk with the edge of 
 the envelope in his hand. 
 
 "The conditions are a bit unusual," he went on, 
 swiftly appraising Tom with his sharp eyes. "We 
 really don t need anybody here. We receive most 
 of our orders over the telephone, and have our 
 regular customers. The board out there is really 
 only a convenience for a few of our friends who 
 like to make our office their headquarters. But, 
 of course, we can make room we ll have to make 
 room for you, if it comes to that. We can t afford 
 to lose Mr. Selby s business." 
 
 Tom felt an access of confidence. It was true, 
 then. Old Selby must be a heavy trader. 
 
 "That is for you to say," commented Tom. He 
 did not observe that Mr. Westbury was biting his 
 mustache. 
 
 "Putting it bluntly, Mr. Selby proposes that 
 we should make you a special partner, your profits 
 to be calculated on the amount of his business plus 
 anything else you may bring in." 
 
 "Well, don t you think that a fair proposition?" 
 asked Tom. 
 
 Mr. Westbury shrugged his shoulders. 
 
336 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 "We cannot make you a special partner. That 
 is out of the question for many reasons. We are 
 willing, however, to give you a nominal connec 
 tion with our house and to pay you a thousand 
 dollars a month salary until we see what you are 
 going to be worth to us. How does that strike 
 you?" 
 
 Tom assured Mr. Westbury that this would be 
 eminently satisfactory to him. 
 
 "You can come here or not, just as you please," 
 continued Westbury. "If you bring in any other 
 business, we ll give you some sort of a bonus. You 
 ought to be able to pick up quite a lot around 
 the clubs and hotels, particularly if you can get 
 any tips from Mr. Selby. You can stay away as 
 much as you like. Just telephone, if that suits 
 you. There s really nothing you can do here, you 
 know." 
 
 "All right," answered Tom, nothing loath to be 
 his own master to such an extent. "When do I get 
 my salary?" 
 
 Mr. Westbury gave a slight laugh. 
 
 "First of every month," he answered shortly. 
 "Want any money? We ll give you an advance if 
 you like." 
 
 "Just as you say," replied Tom in a lofty tone. 
 
 Mr. Westbury pressed a bell and to the clerk 
 who entered in answer to it remarked: 
 
 "Draw a check to the order of Mr. Thomas 
 Kelly for a thousand dollars " 
 
 Then turning to Tom, he said: 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 337 
 
 "Well, good luck to you ! Hope you make a lot 
 of money!" 
 
 Tom received his check in the outer office. He 
 had hardly expected any such concrete evidence 
 of Mr. Selby s interest so soon, at any rate. Yet 
 he had the equivalent of a thousand dollars ac 
 tually in his hand ! A thousand dollars ! His first 
 real money ! Enough to pay back all that he had 
 borrowed from Allyn, and have a couple of hun 
 dred left besides. He almost forgot about Win- 
 gate in his excitement and haste to get the check 
 cashed. But Wingate did not let him escape/ 
 
 "Well," he said pleasantly, "now that business 
 is over, can you give me a few minutes? What do 
 you say, shall we sit down here? Perhaps we had 
 better go into my private office, eh?" 
 
 "Suit yourself," answered Tom, distrustful of 
 any Greek bearing a gift. 
 
 He followed Wingate down a narrow passage 
 until they came to a small room at the end of the 
 suite. It was a cheery place, with a fire burning 
 in an iron grate, and the sun pouring in through 
 a single huge window, beneath which there stood 
 a desk. On the top of the desk was a large framed 
 photograph of Lulie ! At sight of it Tom hesitated 
 and almost dropped in his tracks. Wingate with 
 his wife s picture ! Lulie s girlish face looked out 
 archly at both of them, the husband and the boy. 
 
 "Good picture of my wife, isn t it?" said Win- 
 gate quietly, sinking into a revolving-chair, and 
 motioning Tom to an adjacent sofa. 
 
338 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 "Very good, indeed I should say," replied Tom, 
 redder now than ever, and endeavoring to assume 
 an air of light indifference. 
 
 "Of course, that picture was taken over ten 
 years ago/ continued Wingate critically, "but 
 she s hardly changed at all. She was the prettiest 
 girl of her year, in fact, for a good many years." 
 
 Tom was becoming more and more uncomfort 
 able. Wingate had him at a disadvantage and was 
 making the most of it, although Tom did not ask 
 himself what the other s purpose was. It was 
 enough for poor Tom that under the circumstances 
 it was quite impossible for him to demand what 
 all that was to him. Hang it, of course, Wingate 
 had a right to assume that he was interested in 
 Lulie. The blush that had at first been only a dull 
 red now burned scarlet across Tom s cheeks and 
 forehead. 
 
 "You may be surprised at my speaking to you 
 this way, but I can t help it. I know my wife pretty 
 well. I know how beautiful and how damned fas 
 cinating she is. But I know something more about 
 her or I wouldn t be sitting here in my office with 
 you, young man. And that is that my wife never 
 went wrong with any man and never will." 
 
 Wingate s honest gray eyes were fastened upon 
 Tom s face. He was speaking gently, almost ten 
 derly of his wife. 
 
 "I was madly in love with Lulie have always 
 been in love with her. I guess I m in love with her 
 now. I think she used to love me. She still loves 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 339 
 
 me sometimes. But I wasn t clever enough for her 
 and I bored her. I m only a stock-broker. I never 
 went to college. Maybe I d have bored her just 
 as much, if I had. But she was one of those girls 
 who get a bad start, because she never knew any 
 thing about real life. New York and Newport 
 is full of them. I don t wish to tire you, but I think 
 you ought to have a word of explanation about 
 Lulie. I appreciate it s not all your fault. But 
 then it isn t all hers either. It s partly the fault 
 of conditions. You see, she has never had to do 
 anything for herself in her entire life. She was 
 brought up on governesses and French maids, and 
 always had her breakfast served to her in bed on 
 a tray. But her mother took good care of her and 
 she was strong. How she could swim ! The only 
 things Lulie ever knew she got second-hand from 
 novels and other girls who had them off their maids 
 and hair-dressers. Sweet trick for a mother to play 
 on a girl, isn t it? Smoke?" 
 
 Tom nodded. He would gladly have given Win- 
 gate his thousand-dollar check in order to escape, 
 but common decency compelled him to listen. His 
 hand was quite unsteady as he lit the proffered 
 cigarette. 
 
 "That isn t giving a girl a fair chance! Her 
 mother brought her up to believe that the only 
 kind of life worth living was what you get down 
 on Long Island; taught her to look forward to 
 nothing but dances and dinners, and flirting all 
 the rest of her days; and incidentally that children 
 
340 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 were just a nuisance. Honestly, Lulie hasn t any 
 idea of a home, without half a dozen footmen in 
 powdered hair and knee-breeches. What chance 
 has a girl got, I ask you?" 
 
 He inhaled a deep breath of cigarette smoke. 
 
 "And then they brought her out with a great 
 fanfare of trumpets. For two years she went to 
 a ball every night, and stayed in bed all the next 
 day. For two years she was the centre of a whirl 
 wind of artificial excitement. Every unmarried 
 man made love to her, and a good many married 
 men. She was fed up on it. Then she married 
 
 me." 
 
 He laughed amiably. 
 
 "I suppose I was rather a come-down for Lulie, 
 although I filled the bill so far as money and what 
 you call social position go. But her mother was 
 satisfied, and so was she for a while. Then it got 
 to be an old story. You see she d become con 
 vinced that she would hold the centre of the stage 
 all her life. She d been flattered and adored and 
 petted until she had to have admiration or die of 
 drought. And suddenly, after this hectic two 
 years of debutante life, the whole thing dropped 
 with a thud. She was married; she refused to 
 have any children the idea filled her with disgust 
 and horror, and she had nothing to do. Whether 
 she wanted a boiled egg or an elephant steak she 
 could get it by simply pressing a button. And, as 
 I say, she was perfectly strong and well. She had 
 to have some outlet for her energies, so she began 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 341 
 
 to take on a few admirers. She told me all about 
 em, laughed at em with me. But she was so pretty 
 is so pretty, they used to lose their heads over 
 her. I can t blame her or them very much. And 
 the thing grew on her ! She just couldn t live with 
 out it. I can understand it easily enough. Her 
 mother had made her think that her whole life was 
 going to be one triumphal procession, and then 
 the procession petered out. She ceased to be a 
 debutante but she still had the debutante point 
 of view ! She had to be made love to in spite of 
 the fact that she was married already and wasn t 
 willing to pay the price of love." 
 
 He knocked the ash from his cigarette. 
 
 "We had rows. Not because she d done any 
 thing really wrong, but because she was getting 
 herself talked about and making me ridiculous. 
 She went back to her mother half a dozen times, 
 and then when she got tired of that started in again 
 with me. Of course it s grown on her, but it s not 
 as bad as if she drank or took drugs. But some 
 times I don t think she s quite all there." He tapped 
 his forehead. "There are lots like her. The doctors 
 tell me that if she d had children it would have 
 been different. She s never fulfilled the purpose 
 she was made for. You see there s a nervous side 
 to it. She s got an unconscious totally unrecog 
 nized maternal instinct that craves satisfaction, 
 and there s nothing to satisfy it. Some women 
 take it out on dogs. You understand." 
 
 Tom had started to his feet, his eyes blurred 
 
342 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 with indignant tears. Wingate waved him sternly 
 back. 
 
 "I ve been speaking in defense of my wife and 
 in behalf of a lot of useless, miserable, neurotic 
 women who can only play at being alive. I ve got 
 more to say, though. As I tell you, I know that 
 Lulie never did a really wrong thing you know 
 what I mean. And she never will. Why, that 
 night you met her in the hall we d been talking 
 things over you among em. I d met her at the 
 Welfleets not long before, and we d had a jolly chat 
 in the garden and patched it all up. Then you 
 came along and spilled the beans. Don t you sup 
 pose I know you were drunk ? Of course you were. 
 But it might have happened even if you d been 
 sober, and the other way round at that. Of course, 
 I had to stand on my dignity in the household, but 
 I know Lulie wasn t to blame then. The trouble 
 is they re all against her now. No use explaining. I 
 didn t want to make a fuss, so I got out. Six months 
 from now Lulie will come around again and we ll 
 fix things up. 
 
 I want to say two things to you. First, I want 
 to warn you against ruining your young life chas 
 ing after my wife. She ll play with you, and then 
 throw you away like a rag doll. She doesn t care a 
 damn for you or any other man alive. She cares 
 only for herself. She s as hard as nails and cold as 
 ice. And she s as wily when she s playing her game 
 as a heathen Chinee. For instance, she s not aboye 
 trying to make you think I ll divorce her and name 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 343 
 
 you as corespondent. My God ! You ! Ha ! Ha ! 
 That s the kind of thing she does to put ginger into 
 the game. Yet she knows that I wouldn t divorce 
 her under any conditions. She s my wife and I m 
 going to protect her no matter what! See?" 
 
 Wingate had thrown away his cigarette and 
 was leaning, forward pointing a long forefinger at 
 the now utterly humiliated and partially frightened 
 Tom. 
 
 "And that brings me to the second thing I ve 
 got to say to you, young-feller-me-lad ! I don t 
 care how much you burn your fingers letting Lulie 
 pull the wool over your eyes. You are free to play 
 the game and make anything out of it you can 
 which won t be much. But " and he rose and 
 stood threateningly over Tom, "if you once do or 
 say anything you understand, anything in public 
 or elsewhere that compromises my wife in any 
 way, I ll thrash you until I break every bone in 
 your body, and I ll leave you so your own mother 
 wouldn t recognize you. Is that plain enough?" 
 
 Tom slipped out of his chair and got upon his 
 feet. He was thoroughly scared, for Wingate had 
 by this time quite lost control of himself. He had 
 no desire to get into a fight, particularly when he 
 knew that he was in the wrong. The husband of 
 the woman he thought he loved stood before him 
 quivering with anger, his fingers moving spasmodi 
 cally. He now made a vague gesture toward the 
 door and tried to speak. 
 
 "Get out!" he finally blurted. 
 
344 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 Tom did not delay in carrying out this order. He 
 "got out," as he picturesquely expressed it to him 
 self, " while the getting was good." In fact, the pre 
 cise method of his departure remained a permanent 
 blank in his recollection. Once down-stairs and out 
 upon the street, he realized forcibly, however, that 
 it would be most embarrassing to be associated in 
 business after what had occurred with a firm of 
 which Wingate was a member. The mere thought 
 of climbing the stairs again and explaining matters 
 to Mr. Westbury filled him with dismay. Wingate 
 would probably be prowling around somewhere, 
 and be disagreeable if not dangerous. It would 
 be much more tactful and far safer to write a letter, 
 and return the check which now, of course, it would 
 be quite impossible for him to keep. He fingered 
 it with regret, representing as it did the largest 
 sum he had ever had within his control. There 
 was no help for it. He would have to send it back. 
 He would simply have to go to Selby and get from 
 him letters to another brokerage firm. The hands 
 of the clock on Trinity church pointed to a half 
 after twelve. There was just time to reach the 
 Waldorf comfortably before lunch. 
 
 He found Mr. Selby amusing himself by looking 
 out of the window and smoking one of the long black 
 submarine cigars which he affected. The ladies, he 
 said, had gone out shopping, and purposed lunch 
 ing anywhere wherever they happened to be taken 
 hungry. He listened with interest while Tom gave 
 an emasculated narrative of his experiences of the 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 345 
 
 morning, nodding commendation or scowling dis 
 agreement as the case might be. But when his 
 guest endeavored to explain why he could not as 
 sociate himself with the firm in question Mr. Selby 
 was clearly mystified. Tom took the position that 
 as he was an intimate friend of the Scotts it would 
 be manifestly improper or at least exceedingly 
 awkward to be connected in business with Win- 
 gate, who as a matter of common knowledge, was 
 separated from his wife. If nothing else, such an 
 association would certainly prevent his getting any 
 of the Scott business, which might be large. Mr. 
 Selby, however, couldn t see it at all ! Half the 
 men you knew were separated from their wives ! 
 Business was business, and matrimony was matri 
 mony or bad business, as you chose to regard it. 
 He chuckled at what he regarded as a very good 
 joke. Tom in his opinion was making a mistake. 
 Westbury & Wheatland were one of the strongest 
 houses on the Street did, in fact, an enormous 
 business. The proprosed connection would be worth 
 fifty thousand a year ! He shook his head. No, 
 the alleged reason was no reason at all! 
 
 Tom, however, was obdurate. Unable to tell 
 Selby the real cause of his refusal to join Westbury 
 & Wheatland, he merely insisted upon the assumed 
 one, and requested Mr. Selby to give him letters 
 to some other firm. This his host was disinclined 
 to do. He didn t like the idea, he explained, of 
 having Tom rush all over the Street turning down 
 good jobs for fanciful reasons. In the long run it 
 
346 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 would be bad for him. Westbury & Wheatland 
 were his regular brokers, and he didn t want to 
 leave them. The old fellow was obviously quite 
 distressed at the situation. He wanted, he said, 
 more time to think it over. However, he had a 
 suggestion. Why should not Tom see what he 
 could do for himself? He would agree to give him 
 such business as he might have until further notice, 
 and Tom could place it where he chose with any 
 responsible firm. Moreover, he d give him a tip 
 and Tom could see what, he could do with it. 
 "Chicle" was going up. Not right off, maybe, 
 but before very long. It was good for seven or 
 eight points anyhow. They had lunch together, 
 from which Selby departed hurriedly for a matinee, 
 leaving Tom with an unoccupied afternoon before 
 him. 
 
 Lighting a cigarette, Tom sipped a cup of coffee, 
 and then sauntered through the corridors on the 
 ground floor of the hotel, idly watching the people 
 who occupied the armchairs which lined the walls. 
 Presently his eye caught a sign reading "Wert- 
 heim & Wertheim," and he found himself at the 
 open door of what appeared to be a brokerage office. 
 There was the usual "board" at one end of the room 
 upon which the prices of active stocks were being 
 recorded, and in front of which reclined an audience 
 of rather prosperous-looking men and a few women. 
 At the other end of the room stood a couple of 
 tickers, and about them were congregated the 
 customary crowd of traders. A tall, alert-looking 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 347 
 
 young Hebrew who had been standing by the win 
 dow turned as Tom entered, nodded, and came for 
 ward. 
 
 "Glad to have you drop in on us, Mr. Kelly," 
 said he affably. 
 
 Tom was nonplussed. He was unaware that 
 his name was known to anybody in the hotel out 
 side the Selbys and the room clerk. Young Mr. 
 Wertheim smiled. 
 
 "You re a little surprised at my knowing your 
 name? That s nothing. We make it our business 
 to know who is at the hotel. Glad to get a little 
 of your trade, you know. Besides, of course, your 
 being a friend of Mr. Selby s " 
 
 "I see J) remarked Tom. It had suddenly oc 
 curred to him that here was a chance to test the 
 value of Mr. Selby s influence and support. 
 
 "Doing anything in the market?" further in 
 quired Wertheim easily. 
 
 "How s Chicle ?" asked Tom in a low tone 
 hardly aware that he had uttered the words. 
 
 Wertheim glanced at the board. 
 
 "Forty-one," answered the broker in the same 
 key, but manifestly interested. "Anything do 
 ing?" 
 
 Tom nodded mysteriously. 
 
 "It s good for a rise," he remarked confidently. 
 "Not at once, necessarily. But it s good for seven 
 or eight points, believe me." 
 
 Mr. Wertheim became instantly agitated. 
 
 "Is that straight?" he whispered. 
 
348 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 " Straight from Selby within ten minutes." 
 
 "Look here," responded Wertheim, "come into 
 our inside office, won t you?" 
 
 He grabbed Tom s arm and hastily pushed him 
 through a glass door into a small room, empty save 
 for a table with a telephone upon it. 
 
 "Suppose we take a flyer?" suggested the broker 
 eagerly. "I ll carry you for a thousand for the 
 
 dp." 
 
 Tom, who had not the remotest idea what being 
 "carried for a thousand" meant, nodded. 
 
 "I don t mind," he answered. 
 
 Wertheim unhooked the receiver of the tele 
 phone and murmured into it rapidly. Then he 
 hung it up. 
 
 "You just leave this all to me," he said to Tom. 
 The bell rang and Wertheim took up the receiver 
 again. 
 
 "Got it," he exclaimed, "Forty-one and an 
 eighth." 
 
 "Got what?" inquired Tom. 
 
 "Two thousand shares of Chicle," answered 
 Wertheim with a puzzled look. "Say, it s all right, 
 isn t it?" 
 
 "Why, of course, it s all right. I told you it was 
 going up," replied Tom. 
 
 "Well I think I ll start her along now," an 
 swered his new friend. "You wait here or, if 
 you prefer, get over by the board and see what 
 happens. 
 
 Tom, entirely at sea as to what it all meant, 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 349 
 
 started out among the crowd, watching while Wert- 
 heim moved from group to group. The man at 
 the board suddenly changed the card under "Chi" 
 to 42. A few moments later he altered it again to 
 42^. 
 
 Wertheim came over to where Tom was stand 
 ing. 
 
 "She s moving," he whispered. 
 
 There was no doubt about it. Chicle was mov 
 ing jumping in fact. Before many minutes had 
 elapsed Chicle whatever Chicle might be had 
 gone successively from 42^ to 43, to 43^, to 44^, 
 to 45, and then to 45%. 
 
 At that point Wertheim hastened again to Tom 
 and dragged him once more into the office. 
 
 "Look here!" he cried, "I m for getting out 
 quick. What do you say?" 
 
 "I would," agreed Tom for no reason in the 
 world save to be agreeable. 
 
 The broker used the telephone once more, his 
 face pale with excitement. Then he sank back with 
 a deep suspiration of relief. 
 
 "Sold it at 45!" he ejaculated. "Congratula 
 tions!" 
 
 He opened a pocket check-book, wrote rapidly 
 and tore out a piece of paper. 
 
 "Here you are !" he said, tossing a check in Tom s 
 direction. "A thousand thanks! If you get any 
 more like that, let us know." 
 
 "What s this?" asked Tom, gazing stupidly at 
 the check in his hand. 
 
350 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 "Your profits, of course. I ve given you my 
 own check. I ll put it through as a personal trans 
 action. No use complicating matters." 
 
XXVII 
 
 TOM continued to regard the check doubtfully. 
 It was the largest sum of money he had ever had 
 in his possession, a stupendous amount, more, prob 
 ably, than his father had ever earned in a single 
 year, far more than the present total of his mother s 
 annual income. And he had got it by doing nothing 
 at all ! Yet Wertheim had handed it to him as a 
 matter of course. Old Man Selby had indeed a 
 pull ! His words were golden words, or rather golden 
 keys to unlock the doors of fortune. 
 
 Tom did not, in fact, have a very clear idea of 
 what had happened. He knew that in some way 
 or other he had purchased stock and made a profit 
 on it. He had not meant to buy it, but then, if 
 Wertheim had taken it that way ! It was not 
 until later that he fully realized that, had the stock 
 gone down, instead of up, he could not have covered 
 the resultant loss which the firm would thus have 
 been obliged to bear. But, as it was, he saw only 
 a smiling broker and a large check. 
 
 "Glad to do business with you any time," said 
 Wertheim, laying a hand on Tom s shoulder and 
 producing a box of cigars. "Have a smoke?" 
 
 "No, thanks," replied the youthful financier. 
 He was thinking as rapidly as he could. "Suppose 
 
 351 
 
352 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 I got you a lot of business would you pay me a 
 salary?" 
 
 "Would we?" ejaculated Wertheim. "Just 
 watch us!" 
 
 "I guess I could swing quite a lot of Mr. Selby s 
 trading your way," ventured Tom. 
 
 "Fine!" returned his companion. 
 
 "All right," answered Tom. "I ll see what I 
 can do. I ll drop around in the morning." 
 
 Wertheim and he shook hands, and Tom saun 
 tered out with his check. It was only a quarter 
 to three, the whole affair having occupied less than 
 half an hour. How easy to make a lot of money 
 if you only knew how ! He crossed the street, de 
 posited his voucher, secured a check-book and 
 returned to the hotel writing-room. He could now 
 pay off Allyn and relieve his mind of an anxiety 
 which had of late grown constantly greater. 
 
 Yet as he drew the check to his friend s order 
 for the eight hundred dollars which he owed him, 
 he was not altogether easy in his mind. It did not 
 seem, somehow, as if the check could really repre 
 sent eight hundred dollars. He thought of the petty 
 economies with which his mother s existence had 
 always been filled, the inevitable turning off of the 
 gas when not in use, the saving of odd half-sheets 
 of writing paper, the substitution of newspaper 
 "spills" for matches, the thousand and one ways 
 in which she had managed to eke out her income 
 in order to send him to college, and at the same time 
 keep a home open for him to go to. 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 353 
 
 Only he hadn t gone! Really he must take a 
 run up to Boston soon and see her. How would it 
 do to send her a check for a thousand dollars? 
 Something told him that she would not take it if 
 she knew the source of its origin. She had always 
 referred to the stock exchange as if it had been the 
 portico of the infernal regions. Narrow-minded, 
 of course! But curiously enough Tom felt some 
 thing of the same superstition. He could not send 
 her a check for so large a sum without explanation, 
 and any truthful explanation would, he knew in 
 stinctively, render the gift unacceptable. How 
 ever, he mailed a check to his tailor in Cambridge 
 for his long-overdue account and paid whatever 
 other bills he could think of. They were not nu 
 merous, although they aggregated nearly thirteen 
 hundred dollars, and he still had over two thousand 
 dollars left when he had finished. 
 
 Two thousand dollars! He kept repeating the 
 words in a sort of sing-song "two thous andol 
 lars two thous an dot lars!" Two thousand 
 dollars? Why he could spend a thousand and still 
 have another thousand dollars left. In a few days, 
 when he d amassed forty, or fifty, or maybe a hun 
 dred thousand, he d take a special train, and go 
 up to Boston to see his mother. That would be 
 after he d made all his arrangements with "Wert- 
 heim & Wertheim." Then he would come back a 
 full-fledged business man, and his mother would 
 be satisfied, so long as it was his regular occupation. 
 
 He leaned back in a leather lounge-chair, and 
 
354 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 planned what he would do when he returned home. 
 Well, first his mother should go right over to Boyls- 
 ton Street, to that swell "Madame Irene" the 
 "Parisienne Modiste," and order a couple of dresses. 
 There had been enough seamstresses in the house, 
 cluttering up everything, leaving their chalk and 
 wax around, and eating their meals at the table ! 
 Imagine ! Huh ! eating with a seamstress even 
 if she was called "Miss" ! Yes, his mother should 
 have a wonderful black silk dress with real lace, 
 and some decent shoes. 
 
 He remembered with a shudder the stubby little 
 kid shoes, rubbed almost white on the toes and sides, 
 which his mother had always insisted on wearing. 
 New shoes for mother ! Made to order ! 
 
 A glow of benevolence possessed him. He d 
 give her a surprise, a diamond pin in the shape of 
 a cross; he had once heard her express the prepos 
 terous wish for one, with an embarrassed laugh at 
 the absurdity of the mere idea. Probably she had 
 prayed the same night to be forgiven for "coveting" 
 her neighbors goods ! He laughed. Well, by 
 thunder, she should have the pin two pins ! 
 
 And then there was Bridget. She would have 
 to give up wearing her hair in that ridiculous knob 
 on the back of her head. It made her look too much 
 like a "Biddy." She was a "Biddy," of course, 
 but she was a good "Biddy" a sort of an aris 
 tocratic "Biddy." Now that they could have a 
 butler, if they wanted one, to keep on with Bridget 
 would be a gracious sort of thing to do "noblesse 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 355 
 
 oblige" "ancien regime" and so on. "Old family 
 servant." But she must fix up her head, and wear 
 a cap a nice white cap. And learn to mix drinks 
 temperance drinks 
 
 Tom cracked his fingers and beckoned to a 
 waiter. 
 
 "Here, bring me a brandy-and-soda ! " 
 
 He scratched off a check for a hundred dollars, 
 and handing it to the man, who received it with 
 obeisance, ordered him to cash it. 
 
 Then the front door needed to be sandpapered 
 down and varnished. He d have that attended 
 to. Also the carpet in the hall before the door was 
 worn threadbare. New carpet! Gosh, it was fun 
 to spend two thousand dollars! Up-stairs he d 
 rip everything out chuck away all the old junk 
 hair sofas and so forth. Hair sofas ! Oh, Lord ! 
 Imagine him sitting on a hair sofa! They might 
 do for Aunt Eliza or Uncle Ebenezer. He would 
 take out the gas his mother was always smelling 
 around for leaks and install electricity. "Install" 
 was a good word. He liked the sound of it and re 
 peated it several times. And of course! Why 
 hadn t he thought of it before the bathroom! 
 His mother should have a tiled bathroom with all 
 the most modern fixtures instead of sitting on a 
 rotten old wooden seat with her feet in a spotted 
 tin tub ! But there would have to be somebody 
 to take care of the bathroom a maid! A neat, 
 rosy, pretty maid in a black dress, white cap and 
 a dinky little apron like a "doily." No more 
 
356 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 "doilies"! And there would be finger-bowls at 
 every meal no matter what his mother said! He 
 returned rather fondly to the idea of the maid. 
 He d pick her out himself or else his mother would 
 get an old scrawny one. There was lots of style 
 in a maid. 
 
 At this point the waiter returned with the brandy - 
 and-soda, the glass being flanked with a pile of 
 yellow and green bills. Tom handed him one off 
 the top of the pile with a grand wave of his hand. 
 It wasn t even a case of "keep the change." He 
 was away beyond just little old "keep the change" 
 he gave bills! He stuffed the mass of paper into 
 his pocket without counting it, and began to im 
 bibe his brandy-and-soda. 
 
 He reverted again to the maid. She must be 
 trim, slender, dark, with big eyes and a lot of wavy 
 hair. She would answer the bell, wake him up in 
 the morning and lay out his pajamas in the eve 
 ning. He began to have slight doubts as to his 
 mother s approval. Their waitresses when they 
 had any had always been huge, broad-backed, 
 hairy peasants Swedes, Finns, Lithuanians 
 Croates even ! He wondered if there had been 
 any arriere-pensee in this selection of female Brob- 
 dingnagians on the part of his mother. Shy old 
 mater! He remembered now a black, fiery little 
 Irish girl from Kenmare that his mother had only 
 kept overnight. Yes, the maid must be more like 
 that. He found himself engaged in conjuring up a 
 very vivid picture a picture that resembled some 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 357 
 
 one strongly. He would not think of Evelyn in 
 this mood. His thoughts having now turned to 
 Lulie, he ordered another brandy-and-soda. What 
 a wonderful, soft, alluring creature she was ! Beside 
 her Pauline was a clodhopper a stout clodhopper ! 
 He recalled that night in the hallway of the bachelor 
 wing at "Beausejour," and the next night in the 
 rose-garden. How reluctant, yet how pliant she 
 had been! He must have quite a way with him. 
 He projected other nights in rose-gardens and 
 elsewhere. Hadn t she said she was lonely? 
 
 Tom dressed and hastened from the hotel with 
 out asking either for Mr. Selby or the ladies and, 
 having purchased two dozen American Beauties 
 at a florist s on Fifth Avenue, called for Lulie in 
 a hansom. He had never ridden in one before 
 and felt rather rakish in consequence. There was 
 something unusually intimate in being jiggled up 
 and down that way on the back seat, and when the 
 cab-horse stopped unexpectedly you were tossed 
 backward in a sort of delicious confusion. They 
 dined expensively at a rather poor restaurant in 
 the park, talking in innuendoes, and reaching the 
 theatre at the end of the first act. He wondered 
 several times if what Wingate had said about his 
 wife were true that she was only playing with him ? 
 He thought about it a good deal in the theatre 
 and it worried his pride somewhat. One thing he 
 was sure of, he wasn t just going to hang around 
 Lulie for the sake of spending his money on her. 
 He felt confident that Wingate was flattering him- 
 
358 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 self, whistling to keep his courage up. He had 
 warned Tom not to compromise her! Well, how 
 could he compromise her, if she were only trifling 
 with him? He had no intention of compromising 
 her anyway, but he refused to believe that she 
 was not serious with him. What did Wingate 
 know about it? He had claimed that she made 
 him a confidant regarding her affairs! Well, she 
 might talk over her affairs with her husband simply 
 for the purpose of putting him off the track. Be 
 sides, at the time of the famous marital conference 
 in the Welfleets garden, Lulie had only known 
 him an hour or so. She couldn t have talked him 
 over much, that was sure! There was nothing in 
 it. During the last act he pressed his arm against 
 hers and received an answering pressure that filled 
 him with ecstasy. 
 
 On the way home in the hansom he kissed her 
 twice before they reached her apartment. In spite 
 of his violence, she promised to drive with him again 
 the following evening, and he stood for several 
 minutes on the sidewalk in front of her apartment- 
 house holding her little hand. But she did not 
 ask him to come in. 
 
XXVIII 
 
 TOM slept late the next morning and, after a 
 hearty breakfast in his sitting-room, dressed in a 
 leisurely fashion and then strolled over to the Selby 
 apartment in search of his patron, whom he found 
 as usual smoking contemplatively before the win 
 dow. 
 
 "Well," said Selby slyly, after the first saluta 
 tions were over, "I see Chicle got a move on!" 
 
 "It came up nobly to the scratch," answered 
 Tom. "What shall I tell em to-day? They ex 
 pect the very latest information, you know." 
 
 "So-ho!" exclaimed Selby. "Got a job al 
 ready?" 
 
 "A sort of one." 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 "Down-stairs. There s a firm of brokers right 
 in the hotel. They say they ll pay me a good salary 
 based on any business I bring in. Of course, I 
 didn t have any orders for them, but I passed along 
 your tip on Chicle. Are you doing anything in 
 the market this morning ? " 
 
 Selby seemed amused. 
 
 "You might buy me a couple of thousand shares 
 around 46," he agreed carelessly. "But let it go 
 if it touches 48." 
 
 359 
 
360 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 Tom noted the figures carefully upon the back 
 of an envelope, thanked him, and arose to go. 
 
 Pauline s name had not been mentioned. In 
 fact, he had not thought of her for over twenty- 
 four hours. With two thousand dollars in bills 
 in his pockets she did not appear necessary. Wert- 
 heim greeted him warmly, his warmth becoming 
 effusion when Tom gave him Mr. Selby s order. 
 It appeared that Chicle had dropped back a little, 
 and they secured the two thousand shares with 
 out difficulty at 45^2, but almost immediately an 
 upward movement set in just as it had the after 
 noon before. Everybody seemed suddenly to be 
 buying Chicle, at least everybody in Wertheim & 
 Wertheim s, and most of the customers evinced 
 an undisguised interest in Tom, whose self-esteem 
 rose momentarily as Chicle bounded upward. Other 
 stocks were neglected, and the bystanders at the 
 ticker indulged in all sorts of speculations as to 
 what was going on in the company. It was the 
 loudly expressed general opinion that the stock 
 had recently been " neglected," and that there was 
 "real, basic value" in the property. Tom en 
 couraged this belief by dropping dark hints as to 
 " developments " in the near future. Somebody 
 promptly organized a small pool and the stock was 
 pushed up beyond 49. As instructed, Tom sold 
 out at 48, and had the satisfaction of knowing that 
 at any rate Mr. Selby had not lost money on him. 
 
 He hung around the office until the close of busi 
 ness, then partook of a light lunch in the cafe, and 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 361 
 
 thereafter amused himself by strolling up and down 
 Fifth Avenue and Broadway until it should be time 
 to dress for dinner and call for Lulie again. His 
 second evening with her passed off much as had 
 the first. Again they dined to music this time at 
 a Fifth Avenue restaurant, and again sought amuse 
 ment at the theatre, after which she submitted as 
 before to being kissed in the cab, and bade him 
 farewell upon the sidewalk. Tom began to feel 
 somehow that Lulie was not playing the game. 
 He couldn t have explained why exactly or what 
 he expected, but there was a sort of anticlimax 
 about it all. She was more tantalizing than ever 
 especially as she had now adopted a quasi-Platonic 
 attitude toward him. It was quite quasi consider 
 ing what went on in the cab, but she acted as if 
 whatever passed between them was of a merely 
 friendly character a boy and girl relationship 
 that had no significance. All her hints about the 
 darkness of her future had abruptly stopped. She 
 was, apparently, quite satisfied to have Tom calling 
 for her in a cab every evening, taking her out to 
 dinner and the theatre, and then kissing her good 
 night at the end in what she chose to regard as a 
 brotherly fashion. 
 
 The effect on Tom was, probably, exactly what 
 Lulie had anticipated, and he returned to the hotel 
 each night after leaving her, to toss sleepless on 
 his bed for hours. This went on for four days, 
 during which time Tom each morning dropped in 
 on Mr. Selby, received an order to buy or sell, 
 
362 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 usually several thousand shares of stock, secured 
 from him a trifle of information regarding Chicle, 
 visited Wertheim & Wertheim s, whose customers 
 now hung on his every word, and spent the rest 
 of the day in idleness awaiting the moment when 
 he could feel the soft pressure of Lulie s arm 
 against his, and drink in the odor of the violets 
 which she wore upon her bosom. And meantime 
 Chicle went soaring, and the ticker world at large 
 became convinced that something mysterious was 
 doing in it. Strange customers, emissaries in dis 
 guise, from other stock-brokerage firms, appeared 
 at Wertheim & Wertheim s to hear what the new 
 prophet had to say about the future of this and 
 other securities, and hung upon his words as upon 
 those of an oracle, demanding to be told what to 
 do. 
 
 Wertheim admitted nervously that he had gone 
 in again for Chicle rather heavily was in fact the 
 chief holder in the pool, and dogged Tom s foot 
 steps for the very latest news from Selby. It was 
 a bit embarrassing this enforced attribute of om 
 niscience and when Chicle went down, as it often 
 did momentarily, he felt almost responsible for its 
 eccentricity. On these occasions he was accustomed 
 to seek Dutch courage in a tall glass of brandy- 
 and-soda. Cigarettes, of course, were the instru 
 ments of his profession. He had nearly forgotten 
 the existence of Pauline and her mother. The face 
 of Lulie, with the languorous droop of her eyelids, 
 the smell of her hair, the touch of her body, the mur- 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 363 
 
 mur of her voice, filled his veins with liquid fire, 
 and drove every other thought out of his mind so 
 that he acted as a mere automaton. Selby had 
 seemed rather cool toward him the last day or two, 
 but he had come to have a feeling akin to contempt 
 for the old codger. The days were something merely 
 to be endured until he could see Lulie his Lulie ! 
 
 It was on the Friday after they had returned to 
 New York that his infatuation reached its climax. 
 Things could not go on this way, he told himself, 
 any longer. There had got to be a show-down be 
 tween them. Her indifference was driving him 
 frantic. She must get rid of Wingate or some 
 thing. He had passed a sleepless night and arose 
 red-eyed, jumping, almost hysterical. He could 
 eat nothing for breakfast, but drank a large cup 
 of black coffee and a "bracer" before dressing. 
 Selby had gone out when, as usual, he called at 
 the apartment. He lit cigarette after cigarette in 
 a vain attempt to steady his nerves. Wertheim & 
 Wertheim would be, he knew, anxious for something 
 about Chicle which had now climbed to 61. Well, 
 it was " still good," he guessed. He had made up 
 his mind about Lulie. He wasn t going to be put 
 off any longer. He d take her out to dinner, but 
 he wouldn t take her to the theatre. He would 
 insist on going back with her to her apartment. 
 She would have to fish or cut bait. He wasn t going 
 to be made a fool of any longer. He d find out 
 know where he stood. 
 
 Muttering these and similar expressions, he en- 
 
364 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 tered Wertheim & Wertheim s, and was imme 
 diately surrounded by a crowd of anxious "inves 
 tors" who demanded to be told anything that Mr. 
 Selby had let drop that morning about Chicle. 
 Tom assured them that it was "all right still 
 good," adding a few imaginary trimmings of the 
 same general pattern out of his own head. The 
 stock, however, did not display its customary firm 
 ness, and "backed and filled" up to the time that 
 the market closed, the last quotation being two 
 points below the highest for the day. At five min 
 utes after three Wertheim excitedly dragged him 
 into the inner office. 
 
 "Look here," he ejaculated, "I don t like the 
 the way Chicle is acting. WeVe got close onto 
 nineteen thousand shares in this office and most 
 of it is on five points margin. Are you sure it s 
 all right? Nobody s been unloading on us, have 
 they?" 
 
 "Of course not!" returned Tom with impatience. 
 "It s as good as gold. / didn t tell you to load up 
 with it, anyway. You bought at your own risk. 
 I merely repeated what Mr. Selby told me about 
 it." 
 
 Wertheim was chewing the end of his cigar in 
 great agitation. All his usual savoir-faire had dis 
 appeared. 
 
 "It s true Mr. Selby has been buying but then 
 he s been selling, too," he said. "He probably 
 has other brokers. He may be running a pool of 
 his own. It means ruin to me and my brother if 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 365 
 
 he is. Why, we may have been buying Selby s 
 own stock all the time ! " 
 
 "Nonsense!" retorted Tom. "He is giving me 
 all his business just now. You needn t worry." 
 
 Wertheim s little gimlet eyes were fastened on 
 Tom s face. 
 
 "I know you think so!" he answered soberly. 
 "But you might be mistaken. And if you were, 
 Wertheim & Wertheim would be busted, that s 
 all. I d get out to-morrow morning sell in London 
 before the opening in fact if I thought there was 
 any chance of your being wrong." 
 
 "There s no use being so excited about it!" 
 tartly answered Tom. "Everything s all right. 
 The stock will probably keep on going up all the 
 way to par. But if you d feel any better about it 
 I ll ask Selby, when he comes in this evening, what 
 he thinks and let you know." 
 
 "The trouble is," explained Wertheim anxiously, 
 "I m going to Schenectady at four o clock. If we re 
 going to get out of Chicle I ll have to cable London 
 to-night." 
 
 "Couldn t I telephone to you in Schenectady?" 
 inquired Tom. 
 
 "I don t know where I shall be staying," replied 
 Wertheim dejectedly. "Shan t know until I get 
 there. But I could telegraph you as soon as I arrive 
 when and where to call me up. Will that incon 
 venience you?" 
 
 "No not at all !" said Tom generously, realizing 
 that, after all, he was in a measure responsible for 
 
366 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 the rise in Chicle, and Wertheim s embarrassment. 
 "I ll call you up before midnight and let you know 
 what Mr. Selby says. I ll be glad to do that for 
 you." 
 
 Wertheim looked relieved. 
 
 "Thanks awfully!" he ejaculated. 
 
 It was all rather a bore to Tom, but he felt under 
 obligations to Wertheim they were partners in a 
 way. He d taken nearly four thousand dollars out 
 of the firm. It wouldn t be much trouble, after 
 all, to call the broker up on the long distance tele 
 phone. He could do it right from Lulie s apart 
 ment. Lulie ! How could he wait until eight o clock 
 to see her ? 
 
 He ordered a drink for himself in the cafe, and 
 then called Lulie s number on the telephone only 
 to be told by her maid that her mistress was out 
 and not expected back until six o clock. It was 
 raining and the hotel air was heavy and depressing. 
 Disconsolately he threw himself into one of the 
 leather chairs in the foyer. Yes, it was time to 
 know where he was at with Lulie ! He d ask her 
 to go away with him that very night. He had 
 money enough for the present. This suspense was 
 insupportable. He could fix things up with Win- 
 gate somehow. He wouldn t make a row if he was 
 satisfied that Lulie really loved some one else. There 
 was nothing in it any other way. It was all or 
 nothing. They couldn t stay as they were. His 
 cigarette-case became exhausted and he refilled 
 it at the cigar counter. At five o clock he went 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 367 
 
 up-stairs, bathed and began to dress for the eve 
 ning. 
 
 His preparations completed, he rang for the eve 
 ning papers and a gardenia, which he placed in the 
 buttonhole of his dress-coat. He had still an hour 
 to wait before it should be time to call for Lulie. 
 The valet had pulled down the curtains of his sitting- 
 room and turned on the lights, and now Tom put 
 a match to the fire and sat down before it in an 
 armchair. Outside the rain drove in heavy gusts 
 against the windows. He was very tired and his 
 right eye and temple ached fiercely. Now and 
 then the muscles in his legs jerked spasmodically. 
 He leaned back his head and closed his eyes, lis 
 tening to the soft snapping of the coal in the grate. 
 The warmth was comforting to his soul. Soon he 
 became drowsy. Just as he was on the point of 
 falling asleep there came an unexpected knock 
 upon the door behind him. 
 
 "Come in!" he answered automatically, think 
 ing it might be a boy with a letter or the perennial 
 pitcher of ice-water. Then, to his surprise and em 
 barrassment, he discovered that it was Pauline, 
 and he staggered shamefacedly to his feet. 
 
 "Why, Pauline!" he stammered. 
 
 She was in a low-cut evening gown, her cheeks 
 were flushed and her eyes unnaturally bright; and 
 he noticed that she was twisting her fingers ner 
 vously as she came toward him. 
 
 "Tom!" she besought him, almost pathetically. 
 "Where have you been?" 
 
368 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 He muttered something about having been very 
 busy dropping his eyes like a schoolboy before 
 her frank gaze. Something told him that just as 
 he had intended to have it out with Lulie, Pauline 
 had come to have it out with him. She was close 
 beside him now, looking at him with intent, plead 
 ing eyes. 
 
 "How badly you look!" she exclaimed. "Is 
 anything the matter?" 
 
 "I don t feel very fit," he replied awkwardly. 
 It occurred to him that it wasn t exactly the thing 
 for a girl to drift into a fellow s room like that. 
 Suppose her mother should come along? 
 
 "Don t you want to come into the drawing- 
 room?" he asked in a weak voice. He would have 
 given all the money in his pocket to have been 
 there. 
 
 "No," she said, and her voice sounded curiously 
 flat. "I wanted to see you alone." She paused. 
 "Haven t you anything to say to me? We haven t 
 seen each other for nearly a week, and we ve been 
 right across the hall from each other all the time." 
 
 Again Tom tried to stammer out some sort of 
 an explanation. It was beastly rude, he admitted, 
 rotten, in fact, but there had been so much to do 
 business and all that, for her father he hoped now 
 he d got started it would be different they d have 
 to go to the theatre or something soon he stopped, 
 realizing that he was talking into the air. Pauline 
 was watching him anxiously. Already her instinct 
 told her that the situation was hopeless. Indeed, 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 369 
 
 she had suspected it to be so from the first night 
 upon the yacht, and the suspicion had been strength 
 ened by what had occurred upon the mountain- 
 top. But she was unwilling to let Tom go without 
 a struggle. He was standing before the fire, his 
 head upon his breast, unwilling or afraid to meet 
 her eyes. 
 
 "Tom!" she cried, and in her voice there was a 
 note of agonized yearning. 
 
 He raised his eyes he could not do less, and his 
 lips quivered. After all, he was only twenty-two. 
 He hadn t meant to hurt Pauline didn t want to 
 hurt her. Her face was close to his now, and he 
 could see big tears in her eyes. 
 
 "I Pauline!" He choked. "I guess I ve been 
 a brute!" 
 
 "No! No!" she wildly protested, holding out 
 her bare arms to him. "You ve been a perfect 
 dear always! Tom! Tom!" She pressed one 
 arm to her eyes and, before he could draw away, 
 threw the other around his neck. "Love me!" 
 she sobbed with her head on his shoulder. "Love 
 me, Tom ! I can t live without you !" 
 
 Tom, wretched with self-reproach, put both 
 arms around her. 
 
 "Don t, Pauline!" he ordered. "You mustn t. 
 You re all upset ! You re not yourself !" 
 
 She shook her head, weeping convulsively. 
 
 "I love you! I love you! You must love me! 
 I shall die without you ! Say you love me ! Tom ! 
 Say you love me!" 
 
370 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 She clung to him like a frenzied child. 
 
 "Pauline!" he answered sharply. "You must 
 stop! Do you hear? Stop! This this won t 
 do at all ! I m very fond of you, of course. You 
 know that. But I don t love you the way you 
 mean ! " 
 
 "Oh," she sobbed, letting her arms fall away from 
 him. "Oh!" 
 
 She drew back slowly, almost reluctantly, her 
 face burning with a deep crimson, in spite of her 
 wet cheeks. 
 
 "Oh!" she cried, her voice vibrating with shame 
 and anger. "Oh ! I hate you ! I hate you !" 
 
 And turning on her heel she rushed out of the 
 room. 
 
 Tom stood there shocked and humiliated, ap 
 preciating fully that he and no one else was re 
 sponsible for this unpleasant scene, yet endeavoring 
 to convince himself that he had not at any time 
 intentionally deceived Pauline as to his feelings 
 toward her. His attempt at self-justification, how 
 ever, was far from satisfactory. He had really 
 played fast and loose with her even if it were 
 equally true that she had taken rather more for 
 granted so far as he was concerned than the cir 
 cumstances warranted. Poor Pauline! A stout 
 figure blocked the threshold, and Tom suddenly 
 found himself confronted by "Poor Pauline s" 
 father. The little man was glaring at him aggres 
 sively, a large cigar blazing fiercely in front of his 
 bellicose features. Slamming the door behind him 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 371 
 
 without turning around, he advanced toward the 
 rug upon which Tom was standing, removed the 
 cigar with his left hand and clinched his right a 
 short distance away from Tom s nose. 
 
 "You young whippersnapper !" he shouted. 
 "What you mean by treatin my Pauline this way? 
 I thought everybody thought it was all fixed 
 up tween her and you ! Now she s gone in there 
 to her room cryin her eyes out ! What you said 
 to her, eh? You tell me, see?" 
 
 He made a rather ridiculous figure suggesting 
 an old hen trying to turn game-cock in defense 
 of her offspring. Tom s feeling of self-abasement 
 instantly turned to irritation. 
 
 "I didn t say anything to her!" he retorted. 
 "She did all the talking herself!" 
 
 Pa Selby glowered at him indignantly. 
 
 "I guess she wouldn t take on so unless you was 
 partly to blame!" he returned in heat. "Anyhow 
 I won t have my little girl talked to so s to make 
 her cry. You ought to be ashamed of yourself." 
 
 "I tell you I said nothing to her at all!" an 
 swered Tom stubbornly. "If you ask her, she ll 
 tell you so herself." 
 
 Selby rubbed his chin and returned the cigar to 
 his mouth. He had not intended to precipitate a 
 quarrel with Tom. 
 
 "What was the trouble about?" he demanded. 
 
 "Ask her," answered Tom, feeling that the least 
 he could do was to be loyal to a lady who had made 
 him an avowal. 
 
372 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 Selby twisted the cigar around in his mouth. 
 
 "Look here," he said finally. "Perhaps it s 
 none of my business. A little lovers quarrel, may 
 be?" 
 
 Tom shook his head. 
 
 Selby turned color. 
 
 "Say, you don t mean you ain t in love with 
 Pauline, do you?" 
 
 "That is the fact," answered Tom shortly. 
 
 "My God!" exclaimed the manufacturer. He 
 sank helplessly into the armchair. "What on 
 earth you been hangin around Her all summer for? 
 I thought you were as good as engaged." 
 
 "I like your daughter very much," said Tom 
 with dignity. "But that s entirely different from 
 getting married to her." 
 
 "You must have thought I was dead stuck on 
 you!" declared Mr. Selby with a shade of disgust. 
 "Look at the business I offered to give you. Did 
 you suppose I d do that for any young feller that 
 just came along? Dear me! This is awful!" 
 
 He smoked dejectedly during an embarrassed 
 interval of several minutes. Then he looked up 
 at Tom with an effort at geniality. 
 
 "Look here!" he began good-naturedly. "I 
 imagine things ain t so bad that they can t be 
 mended. I guess Pauline was a little too much in 
 a hurry. You musn t mind that! Of course, you 
 like her ! Everybody likes her. She s a sweet, 
 fine, noble girl, and she s all her mother and me 
 has got. We couldn t be happy a minute without 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 373 
 
 she was happy. She sets a store by you, I know 
 that. You got to get married sometime. Now, 
 why not Pauline? She ll be a rich girl some day." 
 
 He looked eagerly at Tom s face. 
 
 "I don t want to marry for money," replied Tom, 
 with a sharp prick of his almost dormant con 
 science. 
 
 "It ain t marryin for money!" Mr. Selby as 
 sured him. "I wouldn t suggest your marryin 
 Pauline without you loved her. But nobody could 
 help lovin Pauline. Come now, think it over! 
 There ain t a smarter, prettier girl to be found any 
 wheres than my little Pauline!" 
 
 Tom shook his head. 
 
 "It s no use, Mr. Selby," he answered, "I don t 
 love your daughter. I can t marry her." 
 
 There was a long silence. At length Mr. Selby 
 said very slowly: 
 
 "Listen here, Mr. Kelly! I ll give you a million 
 dollars in cash, if you ll marry my daughter." 
 
 Tom turned half-sick. It had been one thing to 
 play with the idea of marrying for money; it was 
 another to discover that he was the kind of person 
 whom others believed would deliberately sell him 
 self for money. It was a refined distinction, but it 
 was nevertheless true that for the first time he saw 
 the degrading position in which his conduct had 
 placed him. He was dizzy, faint, nauseated almost. 
 
 "No!" he groaned. "No!" 
 
 His coat and tall hat were lying upon the sofa 
 and he put them on hurriedly. 
 
374 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 "Well, I didn t mean to say anything " began 
 Mr. Selby apologetically, but Tom had fled. The 
 old man shook his head several times with a puz 
 zled air. "Well, what do you think of that? "he 
 remarked to his cigar. "Well!" he shrugged his 
 shoulders. "Poor Pauline!" And he sighed 
 deeply. 
 
 Tom made his way down the marble staircase 
 to the hotel office like one who walks in his sleep. 
 He hardly knew where he was going, his only idea 
 being to escape from the tentacles of the Selbys. 
 He was half blind from headache and in addition 
 he was almost ill with disgust and shame. Auto 
 matically he walked to the bar and drank a glass 
 of whiskey. It still lacked three quarters of an 
 hour to seven, and he sat down in a corner and 
 ordered another whiskey and a siphon of carbonic. 
 The Selby situation had blown wide open, no more 
 tips on Chicle, no more orders on commission. He 
 now clearly perceived his actual relationship to 
 these people whose guest he still was. Luckily he 
 could terminate his dependence upon the Selby 
 hospitality. He could and would at once call for 
 his bill at the office and pay it himself. To-morrow 
 he would take rooms somewhere else unless some 
 thing happened with Lulie. He would tell her 
 about his experiences, and it might incline her to 
 be more acquiescent in his wishes. He did not ask 
 himself what those wishes were exactly; he merely 
 knew that their relationship couldn t go on as it 
 was. He was all alone in the great city except for 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 375 
 
 Lulie, and he was solitary and miserable. She was 
 the only person that meant anything to him. 
 
 A new element crept unexpectedly into his feel 
 ings toward her a longing to be with her simply 
 because she was friendly and interested in his wel 
 fare a desire to be somewhere where he belonged, 
 or at least was understood. Unconscious of the 
 fact, Tom suddenly began to be homesick for the 
 first time in his life. He filled his tall glass from 
 the siphon and drank half of it, and for some reason 
 it made the ache over his eye seem less acute, al 
 though his whole head buzzed and throbbed. He 
 began to pity himself. The Selbys had treated 
 him badly, had wilfully misconstrued a frank and 
 disinterested friendship. Pauline was a man-hunter 
 cheated of her prey. Her father had deliberately 
 kicked him out into the street because he refused 
 to be bought. A million dollars ! He ground his 
 teeth impotently, refusing now to admit that he 
 had laid himself open to the accusation of being 
 a fortune-hunter. They were a cold-blooded lot, 
 these rich parvenus! A rotten bunch, that New 
 port crowd ! 
 
 He arose uncertainly and, making his way to the 
 office, demanded his bill. He was amazed to find 
 that it amounted to over a hundred dollars. While 
 paying it he recalled his promise to telephone to 
 Wertheim at Schenectady. Well, he couldn t get 
 any more tips from Selby. Wertheim would have 
 to decide for himself what to do. Under the cir 
 cumstances the broker had better sell in London 
 
376 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 next morning before the opening. He would call 
 him up from Lulie s and suggest his doing so. With 
 this in mind, he requested the mail-clerk to forward 
 by messenger any telegram that might come for 
 him to Mrs. Wingate s, whose address he wrote 
 down upon a card. 
 
 As he drove in the heavy rain up Fifth Avenue 
 to Fifty-seventh Street he felt that only to be near 
 Lulie again would make him infinitely happy. At 
 the door of her apartment the butler helped him 
 off with his coat and took his hat and overshoes. 
 
 "Mrs. Wingate wished me to tell you, sir," said 
 the man, "that on account of the bad weather 
 she has ordered dinner in the apartment." 
 
 Tom endeavored to show no concern on receiving 
 this announcement, but that Lulie should of her own 
 accord have anticipated his desires filled him with 
 excitement and trepidation. Had something come 
 over her ? Was she really afraid of the wet, or was 
 the rain merely an eagerly seized-upon excuse? 
 At least he was to have the opportunity of forcing 
 the issue with her without having to manufacture 
 or insist upon an occasion. His heart pumped dis- 
 quietingly as he followed the butler down the hall 
 way and across the threshold of her drawing-room. 
 
 "Mr. Kelly/ announced the avant-courier with 
 a crisp English accent, and stepped back and out. 
 
 A fire of sea-coal was glowing upon the hearth, 
 the soft light from a couple of shaded lamps fell 
 upon the gilded binding of books and silver frames, 
 and the atmosphere of the room was warm and 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 377 
 
 heavy with the fragrance of the roses he had sent 
 her that afternoon. To come thus out of the drab, 
 rain-swept avenue into the mellow comfort of this 
 feminine boudoir in itself went far toward satis 
 fying the physical yearning Tom had been feeling 
 for some place to which he belonged for some 
 thing more personal than the foyer or bar of a 
 great hotel, and he interpreted this merely physical 
 catlike satisfaction as an evidence of the necessity 
 he felt for having Lulie near him. Indeed the 
 transition from storm to lamplight, from loneliness 
 to the sense of companionship, from emotional 
 discomfiture to the feeling of instinctive sympathy 
 brought the hot tears welling to his tired, red eyes, 
 and set his chin to quivering as Lulie turned to 
 him with a smile from where she was lying on a 
 chaise-longue before the fire. 
 
 "Well Tom!" she said, and her voice seemed 
 to wreathe itself about him in an embrace, "I 
 thought perhaps you wouldn t mind staying here 
 with me she paused inquiringly. "Why, you 
 poor boy! WTiat is the matter?" 
 
 Her tone was so kind and sympathetic that it 
 tore away the last barrier of his self-control. By 
 her very gentleness she accomplished that which a 
 less moral quality, however alluring, might have 
 failed to achieve. Giving way utterly to fatigue, 
 loneliness, and spiritual dejection, Tom threw him 
 self on his knees before her and buried his face in 
 her lap. 
 
 "Oh, Lulie!" he sobbed, "I m so miserable!" 
 
378 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 "You poor, poor boy!" she answered, stroking 
 his hair. "What has upset you so? You seemed 
 quite happy only last night." 
 
 He pressed closely to her without answer. Just 
 what her feelings toward this pompous, egotistical, 
 yet somehow attractive boy were she could not 
 have told. She liked him probably because he 
 liked her. He was a "decent sort," and she had 
 lured him on instinctively, ready to play with him 
 to the limit. He amused her. He thought he loved 
 her. But if she unconsciously entertained any con 
 tempt for him, his childish abandonment and ap 
 parent helplessness momentarily brought out all 
 that was good in her. 
 
 "I m so sorry, Tom!" she murmured gently, 
 caressing his temples with her hands. She had 
 never before given any such sign of affection for 
 him. Had, indeed, hardly felt any. She had played 
 the game on the basis of being the pursued en 
 deavoring to outwit her pursuer and keep him at 
 arm s length. And now because he had come to 
 her for consolation she had taken him in her arms, 
 her better self paving the way for her worst self 
 to follow. Thus angels sometimes unlock the door 
 by which devils enter the fortress of the soul. 
 
XXIX 
 
 SOON he became calmer. The touch of LuhVs 
 cool, light fingers, the faint smell of hyacinths that 
 permeated her tea-gown and its soft texture against 
 his cheeks soothed and comforted him. He felt a 
 new tenderness for her. Unconsciously his arm 
 had sought her waist, and now he drew her down 
 toward him and lifted his head to hers 
 
 "Lulie! You do love me, don t you?" he be 
 sought her. It was the same challenge that Pauline 
 had put to him not an hour before. Instantly her 
 old attitude reasserted itself. She was quite ready 
 to be a little mother to Tom to any one really in 
 distress, but there was something in his voice that 
 frightened her. She realized that no banter would 
 satisfy him. He had come for his answer and no 
 equivocation would suffice. She was not ready to 
 give that answer, had never been ready to give 
 it on the occasions when other men had called upon 
 her for it, and her woman s instinct of self-pres 
 ervation drove her instantly into retreat. 
 
 Drawing gently away from him, she shook her 
 finger reprovingly before his eyes. 
 
 "You mustn t behave this way!" she declared. 
 "The servants might see you. Sh! I hear one of 
 them coming." 
 
 379 
 
380 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 Tom scrambled to his feet just as the butler 
 returned. 
 
 " Dinner is served, madam," said he. Tom of 
 fered Lulie his arm and led her to the dining-room, 
 where a small round table, gleaming with silver, 
 and just large enough for two, was laid before an 
 other of the soft-coal fires that she liked. He raised 
 her hand as it lay upon his arm and kissed it in 
 the hallway, behind the butler s back, and when 
 he soberly took his place a moment later opposite 
 her at the table it seemed to him as if he were act 
 ing a part. He wasn t a mere guest ! He was some 
 thing more. It was just as if he and she were married. 
 If they were married he would be coming home 
 every evening just like that, and probably be say 
 ing: "Well, darling, what have you been up to to 
 day?" 
 
 However, he was very careful as to what he did 
 say to her before the butler, and only allowed him 
 self the preliminary liberty of pressing her foot 
 gently beneath the table. While the oysters were 
 being served he told her about his cruise with the 
 Selbys and between them they managed to keep 
 the conversation going on a politely conventional 
 basis so long as either of the men servants was in 
 the room. The stimulus of Lulie s presence and the 
 relief of being once more in a sympathetic atmos 
 phere had driven away his headache, and he was 
 even able to enjoy the delicious meal which her 
 chef had prepared. He drank a glass or so of cham 
 pagne, and his depression passed from him as a 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 381 
 
 cloud shadow drifts across a summer landscape. 
 He was almost happy nervously so, but happy. 
 He felt that in spite of her not having said so, Lulie 
 must love him. Wingate had made a wrong diag 
 nosis. He did not understand his wife. What he 
 had said about the unfortunate limitations of her 
 upbringing might have been true enough, but as 
 to her sincerity he was entirely wrong. He was 
 a jealous ass, that was all. 
 
 Tom emptied his champagne-glass as fast as the 
 butler replenished it, failing to observe that Lulie 
 hardly touched hers. He had a feeling of posses 
 sion regarding her, of almost proprietary right in 
 her apartment. He belonged there. Had he not 
 discarded Pauline and her fortune for her? His 
 act at that moment seemed to him almost noble. 
 He had made a great sacrifice, had thrown away a 
 career all for a woman. As he gazed at her across 
 the table through half -lowered lids he told himself 
 that she was worth it. His glance lingered on her 
 slender neck and white sloping shoulders the tiny 
 lobe of her ear as it peeped firm beneath the black 
 undulating masses of her rebellious hair. He had 
 difficulty in restraining himself from getting up 
 from the table and clasping her in his arms. Oh, 
 well! He could wait until the butler should have 
 left them for good. Lulie smiled with arch eyes 
 at him, under lids raised significantly at the glass 
 which he was lifting to his lips. He drained it with 
 a laugh, however. To-night he would do as he 
 liked about wine and everything else. 
 
382 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 He lit a cigarette with the salad, and gave him 
 self over to the delicious contemplation of Lulie s 
 features and such of her figure as was visible. What 
 white little hands she had! And what a piquant 
 little nose! The champagne was doing its work- 
 so were the many weeks of idleness, high living, 
 and frivolity that he had spent in that circle which 
 Parradym had called "the spindrift" of society, 
 the spray blown by the winds of fortune from the 
 crests of life s waves. 
 
 Lulie had passed through several similar experi 
 ences, not all of them pleasant. Her different vic 
 tims had acted quite differently when she had re 
 fused to pay the price of their adoration, and for 
 that reason had deliberately broken the spell of 
 her own enchantment. Some had meekly accepted 
 their fate, others had become abusive, but all had 
 taken the denouement as the anticlimax of a game 
 where anticlimaxes were within the code. But 
 with Tom Lulie realized it was somehow different 
 and the realization terrified her, particularly as 
 she saw his confidence growing under the influence 
 of the champagne. 
 
 She was not ready to let him go did not wish 
 to break with him but her emotions were not 
 ripe for anything else as yet. Wingate had been 
 very good to her, more than forbearing. She knew 
 she had treated him abominably. Tom was nothing 
 but a boy! It was really only his passion for her 
 that attracted her to him. Its strength she did not 
 doubt She knew that at that moment she could 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 383 
 
 have done with him as she liked. He would have 
 jumped out of the window had she asked him to 
 do so, and she could not bring herself to surrender 
 the fascination of her power over him. She was 
 ready neither to yield to him or to dismiss him, and 
 being unwilling to do either she recognized that 
 momentarily in spite of herself Tom might be 
 come a factor in a situation which she could no 
 longer control. So instead of leaving the table 
 at the end of dinner she ordered coffee and liqueurs 
 in the dining-room, and lingered on hoping to post 
 pone until later what she now in terror recognized 
 as the inevitable. When the moment arrived she 
 did not know what she was going to do. If she 
 could only delay it long enough, she told herself 
 fatuously, something might happen. 
 
 The butler had been sent away and still Lulie 
 dallied on at the table, its mahogany top a safe 
 barrier against Tom s ardor. He had been leaning 
 on his elbows devouring her with his eyes while she, 
 like Saharazade, talked against time. Suddenly he 
 got up. 
 
 "Why sit here?" he demanded suggestively. 
 " Isn t there any better place?" 
 
 Her heart fluttered in spite of herself. What 
 was she going to do with her young Turk, now that 
 he believed himself to be her master? Yet she 
 had no logical excuse for sitting half the night at 
 a dinner-table from which the dishes had not yet 
 been removed. So Lulie slowly arose 
 
 "What a long time we have talked!" she ex- 
 
384 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 claimed as if in surprise, although her wrist watch 
 had kept her fully informed of the passing of the 
 hours. "Why, it s after ten o clock !" 
 
 She was on the point of finding an excuse for 
 hinting that he should go home, but the absurdity 
 of it was too apparent. No, Tom intended to bring 
 things to a head, and if there were to be a scene it 
 must not be in the open drawing-room. 
 
 "You haven t seen my little library," she said, 
 and she led him to the other end of the corridor, 
 and threw open the door of a small room furnished 
 entirely in rose. It was a boudoir rather than a 
 library, although a small bookcase filled with de 
 luxe volumes gave it a colorable claim to the latter 
 designation. A thick carpet, a couple of upholstered 
 chairs, a tabaret holding a gold box of cigarettes, 
 an ornately gilded mirror, several lamps shaded 
 in rose, and a divan with hangings of the prevailing 
 color made up its inventory. The reflection of the 
 lamplight upon the draperies and carpet gave 
 heightened color to Lulie s cheeks, and made her 
 seem as ravishing to Tom as a beautiful gypsy girl. 
 It was the same effect as had been produced by the 
 curtains in the hallway of the bachelor wing at 
 " Beausejour " the first time he had held her in his 
 arms. He recalled the scene vividly. 
 
 Lulie struck a match and lighted the tip of a 
 cone of incense that stood before a little jade god 
 on the top of the bookcase, and a thin blue column 
 of vapor rose tremulously toward the ceiling. A 
 strange, Oriental odor floated through the room. 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 385 
 
 Lulie pushed the cigarettes toward Tom, lit one 
 and threw herself at full length among the cushions 
 of the divan. She felt curiously that fate had taken 
 the game out of her hands that she was only a 
 pawn. Her actions had become automatic. 
 
 Tom closed the door. 
 
 "Do you know when I last saw you look like 
 that?" he inquired meaningly. 
 
 She shook her head and let the smoke of her 
 cigarette pour slowly from her delicate nostrils. 
 
 "In the passage that night at Beausejour !" 
 
 She smiled, and put one of her arms behind her 
 head. 
 
 "You were very bad that night !" 
 
 "Not half so bad as I can be!" he informed her, 
 sinking into a chair beside the divan. "Not half 
 so bad as I m going to be!" 
 
 "You mustn t talk that way!" she answered 
 nervously. "You are going to behave yourself 
 quite properly after this. In fact I am going to 
 scold you a little for the way you have been acting 
 the last few days. It really must stop." 
 
 "Stop!" cried Tom. "Stop! Why, it s only 
 begun!" 
 
 He arose and seated himself on the divan beside 
 her. The last cordial he had taken had made him 
 a little dizzy or was it Lulie? The moment had 
 come. He would know where he stood. She would 
 have to choose between him and Wingate. He 
 assured himself that he would gladly sell his im 
 mortal soul for her. 
 
386 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 "Lulie !" he whispered, leaning over her, "Lulie ! " 
 and tried to take her in his arms. 
 
 All real desire to resist had gone from her, but 
 temporizing still, she lifted the hand which held 
 her cigarette above her head. 
 
 "Look out!" she cried, laughing. "You ll be 
 burned." 
 
 "I m burnt to a crisp already !" he cried, dragging 
 her to him and pressing his lips to her hair. 
 
 Steps sounded in the hall outside, and there 
 came a rap upon the door. 
 
 "Excuse me, madam/ said the muffled voice of 
 the butler, "but I have a telegram for Mr. Kelly." 
 
 Tom swiftly extricated himself. 
 
 "Curse Wertheim!" he cried, but he smoothed 
 his hair and, opening the door, removed the yellow 
 envelope from the salver in the man s hand. 
 
 "Excuse me!" he muttered and ripped it open 
 impatiently. At first he found difficulty in focussing 
 his eyes, and he stepped over to one of the lamps. 
 It did not bear Wertheim s name that was funny ! 
 Suddenly his vision cleared. 
 
 Your mother is dying. Come home. 
 
 BRIDGET MALONE. 
 
XXX 
 
 AT first he thought there must be some mistake, 
 that the telegram could not have been meant for 
 him. Who was Bridget Malone? The name was 
 unfamiliar. And then much as if some huge, icy 
 wave had dealt him a terrific blow and hurled him 
 along gasping for air and staggering for a footing, 
 the meaning of these six black words on this yellow 
 sheet crashed down upon him, tearing at his brain 
 with iron claws. 
 
 His mother was dying. The telegram was from 
 Bridget the cook. He had never known her last 
 name. His mother was dying with only an ignorant 
 Irish servant at her bedside where he should have 
 been. She might already have passed away alone, 
 neglected. He gave a half sob, half groan of anguish. 
 Mother ! He saw her little figure lying there in 
 the walnut bed, the old knitted shawl across her 
 body, her patient face gazing toward the Madonna 
 upon the wall. Again he groaned, hiccoughing 
 forth meaningless words of love and remorse. He 
 no longer knew where he was. He did not see Lulie, 
 nor hear her voice asking him sharply what was 
 the matter. He did not smell the incense or the 
 cigarette smoke of that erotic atmosphere. 
 
 Uttering great, shaking sobs, he groped his way 
 
 387 
 
388 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 toward the door of the apartment. There was a 
 train for Boston at eleven o clock he must catch it. 
 He stumbled to the hallway, threw his overcoat over 
 his arm, and put on his shiny tall hat. He had 
 but fifteen minutes to catch the train. Slipping 
 and half falling, he hurried down the stairs to the 
 street. It was still raining, half an inch of slush 
 covered the pavement. He had forgotten his over 
 shoes and had on only his low-cut patent-leather 
 pumps and orange-silk stockings. There was no 
 time to wait for a street-car or to seek a cab. Sob 
 bing and whimpering, he floundered forth and ran 
 down the Avenue a ridiculous and painful figure 
 at one instant splashing through a mud puddle, 
 at the next clutching at a lamp-post to save himself 
 from falling. Once opposite the Cathedral he 
 did fall and his hat rolled in the gutter, but he 
 fished it out and kept on with no thought but to 
 catch the train. He began to sweat profusely while 
 the cold rain soaked through his shirt front and 
 ran down his body. His legs were drenched to 
 above his knees. His breath came only in painful 
 gaps. The policeman and ticket seller gazed at 
 him strangely as he rushed to the window to buy 
 his ticket, thinking him just another drunken col 
 legian returning home after a debauch. It was 
 fortunate that he had enough money. Then he 
 drew on his overcoat and walked to the train, a 
 garter dangling below his trouser leg and a gardenia 
 drooping from his buttonhole. 
 The thought of sleep was anathema. He pulled 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 389 
 
 his hat down over his forehead, thrust his feet into 
 the corner of the opposite seat, and stared fixedly 
 at the windows as the train rattled through the 
 night. Self-revelation had come to him. He saw 
 himself as he was, and the sight filled him with 
 loathing. Had it not been possible that his mother 
 was still alive he would probably have thrown 
 himself to his death between the wheels. 
 
 It was inconceivable that his mother should be 
 really dying. She was rarely ill; an unusually 
 vigorous woman for her age. He tried to comfort 
 himself with the idea that the telegram might be 
 an overstatement of the situation due to panic on 
 the part of Bridget the cook. Probably his mother 
 had had an attack of indigestion or something and, 
 being alone in the house with her, Bridget had be 
 come hysterical. But she shouldn t have been 
 there alone with her. He should have been there 
 himself with his mother. It was unbelievable that 
 such retribution should be visited upon him that 
 the last and greatest of a long life of efTacements 
 would occur without his having had a chance to 
 explain to her! He had not meant to neglect her, 
 he had merely wished to take advantage of his op 
 portunities to make a career. Opportunities? For 
 what ? Making a beast of himself ! A career ? As 
 a cheap bounder, a hanger-on of wealthy people, 
 a "pet cat," a parasite! Sitting there in the half 
 darkness, he reviewed the various sordid episodes 
 of the past six months, his low intrigue with Lulie, 
 his mercenary affair with the Selbys, his humiliat- 
 
390 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 ing connection with Mrs. Jones, the whole disgust 
 ing performance at Newport where he had posed 
 as a sophisticated man of the world, and his dallying 
 with debauchery during the last few weeks, while 
 his mother had been gradually becoming more and 
 more feeble, until now she was dying. He was 
 rotten all through. A heartless, cold-blooded 
 sycophant! And now he was being punished for 
 it. His mother was being taken from him without 
 his having even an opportunity to beg her forgive 
 ness. He raised his hands involuntarily in the dim 
 light, crying out his repentance to God: 
 
 "Forgive me ! Forgive me ! Forgive me !" 
 
 The colored porter peering from the vestibule 
 of the car wondered at the strange sight of a di 
 shevelled man in a dress suit and tall hat gesticulat 
 ing and uttering unintelligible sounds. 
 
 "Oh, mother! Mother! Forgive me!" the man 
 kept repeating. "Oh, God! Forgive me !" 
 
 At last, exhausted, his head fell against the corner 
 of the seat and he slept. But his sleep was broken 
 and fitful, until in the early dawn he fell into a 
 profound slumber in which he dreamed that it was 
 morning, and that the train had reached Boston. 
 
 He hurried to the platform, hired a cab and drove 
 to the house on Newbury Street. The sidewalks 
 were deserted and the curtains were still down in 
 all the windows of the neighboring houses. Sick 
 with fear, he looked for the knob of the bell to see 
 if there were crape upon it. There was none, but 
 the bell-plate was iridescent from neglect, and the 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 391 
 
 name "Kelly" almost black. He paid the driver, 
 a somnolent night-hawk, and crossed the uneven 
 red brick of the sidewalk. Well, at least he was 
 in time. His mother was still alive ! Perhaps, after 
 all, it was as he had hoped merely a case of panic. 
 His sense of relief was unutterable. 
 
 He sprang up the stone steps and almost joyfully 
 entered the tiny vestibule, the door of which was 
 ajar. And then his hand touched something soft 
 but rough, and he drew back with a stifled cry, for 
 on the knob of the door hung a long black flaunting 
 horror the barbaric flag of death. 
 
 He awoke with a shriek and found himself cower 
 ing between the seats of the sleeping-car, with the 
 New England autumn landscape sweeping smoothly 
 by bathed in sunlight beneath a sky blue and peace 
 ful as that of midsummer. 
 
 " Thank God ! " he muttered. " Thank God ! " 
 
 There was a stirring all along the berths as their 
 occupants prepared to make their exits. Collarless 
 men, clasping bundles of heterogeneous clothing to 
 their bosoms, pushed their way along the aisle. 
 The porter came by with an expectant brush, say 
 ing " Boston in twenty minutes !" The train passed 
 Blue Hill and Tom recognized the observatory; 
 then it entered the nearer suburbs and presently 
 was crossing the streets of the West End. He had 
 turned his back upon the occupants of the car, 
 realizing the spectacle which he presented, but he 
 did not care. His only thought was to escape from 
 the train as soon as possible. He must get home. 
 
392 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 Would he be in time or would his dream prove to 
 be true? Dreams went by contraries, he told him 
 self. But there was nothing upon which he could 
 pin the hope that his mother was still alive except 
 the vague impression that people didn t die quickly 
 like that. It took quite a long time even if you 
 were going to die, and so far there was no reason 
 to suppose his mother actually was going to die. 
 
 "Boston! Boston!" 
 
 Stiff and lame, Tom turned up his coat collar, 
 and left the car followed by many amused and 
 significant glances. Among the line of awaiting 
 cabbies, one seemed familiar to him, and, nodding 
 to the man, he followed him to his blowzy hack 
 and clambered inside. It was stuffy with a com 
 bination of stale beer and damp rug. The man s 
 head appeared in the window as he inquired the 
 address, and in that instant Tom recognized him 
 as the cabby in his dream the somnolent night- 
 hawk there was no doubt of it. It was the same 
 ramshackle cab, the same moth-eaten rug. An 
 uncanny fear crept up his spine. Had he experi 
 enced what he had heard Aunt Eliza call a "warn 
 ing"? Had he lived over in his dream what he 
 now was to experience in fact? Such things were 
 of record. Was his mother already dead, then? 
 They were rattling over the cobblestones without 
 making much headway the action of the cab- 
 horse appearing to be vertical rather than horizontal, 
 and Tom opened the door and urged the man to 
 go faster. He felt that he must get out and run. 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 393 
 
 They reached Boylston Street and then the Public 
 Garden. He was almost there now. In his dream 
 Newbury Street had been deserted, the curtains 
 down. He scanned the windows apprehensively. 
 Yes, it was so just like the dream. His heart 
 sank. Tom stepped to the sidewalk and paid the 
 man, without looking around. The cab was half 
 a block away before he dared raise his eyes to the 
 front door. It was ajar, but the stained bell-plate 
 and the name "Kelly" were as he had dreamed 
 them. He climbed up the steps with trembling 
 knees and paused, unable to bring himself to look 
 inside the vestibule. Inch by inch his glance stole 
 along the door until it reached the handle. There 
 was no crape there. His mother was alive! The 
 reaction was intense. But in the midst of his relief 
 came the sickening thought that fate might be 
 fooling him just as it had fooled him in the dream. 
 The dream had been all true so far, why not that 
 too? Suspiciously he searched out every nook and 
 cranny of the vestibule. No, there was no crape 
 anywhere. Thus he stood shivering alternately 
 with relief and fear on his own door-step, like a dis 
 solute stranger after a prolonged debauch, with 
 stained and disordered clothes, his hair hanging in 
 strands across his forehead, his face gaunt, his eyes 
 hollow and bloodshot ignorant whether his mother 
 were alive or dead, and doubtful whether or not to 
 ring the bell. And as he hesitated the knob rattled 
 and Bridget Malone opened the door. 
 
 She was dressed in a manner different from her 
 
394 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 usual one, and her hair was done in a strange way; 
 and he instantly realized that her costume and get- 
 up were in recognition of some new condition of 
 affairs demanding greater formality. His fears 
 returned. Bridget had not spoken to him, but her 
 face wore a look of helpless sorrow. Tom tried to 
 speak but only gave vent to a sort of cluck. Then 
 he stammered in a thick tone: 
 
 "Is she is she " he could not finish. 
 
 Bridget shook her head. 
 
 "Your mither is still alive," she answered stiffly. 
 Then she gave a sob and cried out brokenly: 
 
 "Oh, Tom! Tom! Don t go to her like that 
 wid the marks of yer sin upon ye ! Don t go to her 
 in yer shame ! Put on some of the ould clothes in 
 the closet and go to her as she knew ye her own !" 
 
 Thus for the first time did Tom know the full 
 depths of his degradation. 
 
 With swimming eyes he tiptoed up the stairs 
 to the little back room, which had been his from 
 the time that he was old enough to sleep alone until 
 he had gone to college. He had always thought of 
 it as ample and comfortable. It had always had 
 the same straw carpet upon the floor, the same 
 white iron bed with the wooden slats, the same 
 pine wash-stand stained with intersecting rings 
 left there by a couple of generations of tooth-mugs. 
 There were no curtains and no pictures upon the 
 walls, but it was clean. From the single window 
 he could see the familiar chimney-pots of the houses 
 on Commonwealth Avenue that he had watched 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 395 
 
 from his bed every morning for nearly twenty 
 years. It was all exactly the same, but now it 
 seemed as small as a prison cell. Yet it had a quality 
 of actuality, seemed bone of his bone and flesh of 
 his flesh. To touch the iron bed was like touching 
 his own foot. It was the nearest feeling he would 
 ever have of belonging to the soil. Here he be 
 longed. 
 
 These thoughts flashed in a single impression 
 across his mind as he entered and began to rum 
 mage in the closet for a change of clothes. There 
 was nothing there except the old high- water trousers 
 and the jacket with the abbreviated sleeves that 
 he had worn his freshman year at college, but, like 
 the room, they seemed to be part of himself, and 
 he dragged them forth, tore off his dress suit and 
 put them on. If he could only discard his recent 
 past as easily as he could cast off these trappings 
 of his humiliation. If only by stepping out of these 
 new clothes and donning the old he could rehabili 
 tate his character! He could not shed the skin 
 of degradation, yet this changing of his outer gar 
 ments was the preliminary to a baptism of sorrow. 
 He was ready now to go to his mother, leaving his 
 shoes at the door of the temple. Racked by grief 
 and bowed by self-abasement, he, nevertheless, as 
 a consequence of this simple act which had somehow 
 taken on a symbolic character, felt himself less 
 contaminated, less defiled. As he descended the 
 stairs he ran his left hand tenderly along the cheap 
 pine balustrade. There on the painted wall beside 
 
396 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 him were the finger-prints his tiny hands had made 
 as a child, too numerous to be eradicated. How 
 many times he had seen his mother come out of 
 the door below, at the foot of that flight of stairs, 
 and heard her call up to him: "Tom, are you coming 
 down to see mother!" He choked and the tears 
 blinded him. He was going down to see mother 
 probably for the last time. "Oh, God !" he moaned 
 aloud, "Oh, God! Don t let mother die!" 
 
 The door of her room was closed and a new fear 
 seized him. Perhaps but he thrust his misgivings 
 aside and turned the knob. He had expected to 
 see what sometimes he had seen before his 
 mother propped up in bed, surrounded by bottles 
 and basins, looking desperately ill and giving 
 evidences of much physical suffering. Usually 
 on these rare occasions there were one or two old 
 women rocking disconsolately in corners or offi 
 ciously rendering ambiguous services Aunt Eliza 
 or some of the cousins. The room had always 
 been overheated and had smelled of alcohol, gruel, 
 and medicines. 
 
 Now for a moment he thought that he must be 
 in the wrong room. It was bright with sunlight, 
 and seemed almost empty. The air was cool and 
 fresh. All the knickknacks and useless furniture 
 had been removed. No cardboard remembrances 
 dangled from the gas-jets. Somehow it frightened 
 him to see the room so neat and bare as if its 
 contents had been or were about to be "put away" 
 forever. 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 397 
 
 A trained nurse in a stiffly starched dress arose 
 from beside the bed and came toward him, holding 
 a watch in her hand. She gave an almost imper 
 ceptible nod, seeming to expect him. 
 
 "I will leave you with her," she said simply, 
 and went out. 
 
 At first Tom did not recognize his mother. Could 
 that be she that fragile figure among the pillows 
 that wisp of thistle-down? Was that small, 
 shrunken, brown face hers? Were those wrinkled 
 cheeks the ones he had kissed as a little child? 
 He took a step nearer. She was upon her back, 
 her thin gray hair lying about her face, her eyes 
 fixed upon some point above his head. Her breath 
 came irregularly. He could hardly see any move 
 ment of the coverlid. He sank beside the bed, 
 sought and found her hand amid the sheets. 
 
 "Mother!" he whispered, and all the repressed 
 love of twenty years surged into his heart. " Mother ! 
 I m here! Tom!" 
 
 The delicate hand tightened upon his, but there 
 came no change upon her face. She was looking 
 at something across the room upon the wall, and 
 her glance never wavered. He wondered that her 
 eyelids did not flicker. 
 
 "It s me Tom!" he repeated, throttling his 
 grief. "Your boy!" 
 
 He watched her face hungrily for some sign of 
 recognition. What was she looking at with such 
 patient intentness? Did she want something? 
 No, her expression was too full of peace. His eyes 
 
398 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 followed hers, toward the same riffles of sunlight 
 upon the ceiling that he had peered at as a child, 
 dancing and melting into one another, to where, 
 below, hung the picture of the Madonna holding 
 the child in her arms, her great eyes, full of a sad 
 and tender mystery, gazing down upon them. Over 
 the door the red worsted motto enjoined him as 
 of old to look and be saved. He turned back again 
 to his mother s face. She was staring at the Ma 
 donna as if waiting for her to do something step 
 down out of the frame perhaps or to speak. Then 
 presently as if she had seen what she expected to 
 see, a little smile gathered around her lips and she 
 closed her eyes with a tiny sigh of contentment. 
 
 As if at an altar-rail, Tom continued to kneel and 
 hold his mother s hand. He was numb with sorrow, 
 overwhelmed and dumb in the presence of ap 
 proaching death which had already drawn a cur 
 tain between his mother and himself. He had 
 come too late ! Retribution had fallen upon him. 
 
 He could never repay the debt he owed her. 
 She had given her life for him. Sleeping and waking 
 for twenty years he had been her only thought, her 
 only care. She had saved and slaved for him. 
 And what had he done for her in return? He had 
 been ashamed of her ! The brutal truth stared him 
 in the face. He had thought of her as old-fashioned, 
 fussy, ill-educated vulgar almost. He bit his lips 
 and his eyes burned with hot tears. Could she 
 ever have been young and pretty? He had thought 
 her so, as a child. He remembered how firm and 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 399 
 
 smooth and cool her face had been when she had 
 come up to kiss him good night in the old days. 
 Once she had been twenty like himself, full of strange 
 stirrings and romantic dreams ! He winced as he 
 recalled the girlish "pieces" she had played to him 
 upon their jangling old upright piano. And some 
 where in a dusty corner was a harp ! She had told 
 him of "parties" and "sleigh-rides" that she had 
 participated in as a young lady. Then she had 
 fallen in love with his father, and in anguish had 
 borne him Tom to be her idol, her joy the real 
 ization of all her hopes and yearnings. Her uni 
 verse had centred about him. And now she was 
 dying! 
 
 The little body beside him stirred uneasily and 
 a flicker of discomfort passed over her face. Was 
 she suffering? Should he call the nurse? Unut 
 terable anguish possessed him. Still holding her 
 hand, he rose upon one knee and leaned over the 
 bed. Something was troubling her. Her lips moved 
 noiselessly. Was she calling him? Was she at 
 last conscious of his presence ? He prayed fervently 
 that she was. The sunlight dimmed for a moment, 
 then blazed forth again. At the same instant Tom 
 experienced a sensation of there being some one 
 else besides his mother in the room the nurse per 
 haps. He looked over his shoulder but there was 
 no one there. The nurse had not come back. His 
 mother was twisting now from side to side rest 
 lessly, impatiently, but not as if in pain. It was 
 rather as if she wished to speak to some one, but 
 
400 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 could not make herself heard. Once she lifted her 
 head and turned it directly sideways. 
 
 " Mother ! " moaned Tom. " Dear mother ! " 
 
 But she gave no sign of having heard him. Pres 
 ently she fell back into her former position with 
 an expression of trust and confidence on her face 
 like that of a happy child. 
 
 " Mother ! " she murmured gently, as if speaking 
 to some one beside the bed. 
 
 She lay still after that for a long time, contented. 
 Tom kneeled again. She had not released his hand, 
 but he knew that it was not of him that she dreamed. 
 She had done her duty by him, had given him her 
 love, and now that she was going home it was her 
 own dear mother of whom she thought, whose hand 
 would lead her safely through the shadows. 
 
 "Mother!" she sighed again. 
 
 Suddenly she opened her eyes and lifted her 
 head toward the Madonna, staring at her expec 
 tantly for a second or two. And then her head fell 
 back upon the pillow and she died. 
 
 Tom was aroused by the touch of the nurse s 
 hand upon his shoulder. 
 
 "I must ask you to go away for a few minutes," 
 she said. 
 
 He arose stupidly. A hurdy-gurdy had begun 
 playing "The Irish Washer-woman" half-way 
 down the block. With a last look at his mother s 
 face he turned to the door. It was over ! He had 
 parted from her forever in this world. He was 
 alone. Automatically he felt his way down-stairs 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 401 
 
 to the kitchen. Bridget was sitting rigidly by the 
 mixing-table in her best clothes. He noticed the 
 tin match-box painted blue hanging from its nail 
 by the clock the match-box in which Bridget 
 had kept the crumbs to make him wise! Wise 
 indeed ! She arose at his step and waited. 
 
 "It s all over!" he whimpered, and threw him 
 self down at the table, his head on his outstretched 
 arms, sobbing violently. 
 
 "I killed her!" he groaned harshly. "I killed 
 her!" 
 
 The old cook laid her hand on his head. 
 
 "No, Tom!" she replied. "Ye did not kill yer 
 mither! Do not accuse yourself of that. Ye neg 
 lected her, tis thrue enough, but ye did not kill 
 her. She would not like ye to say that ! Tis women s 
 lot in this world to give and suffer and bear childer. 
 Tis their pain and their joy as well. Ye cannot 
 pay yer debt to yer mither, Tom, save to yer own 
 childer, just as, mayhap, she paid her debt to her 
 own mither with her love to you. There s not one 
 of us, Tom, that doesn t owe everything he is to 
 all them other mithers that has gone before us." 
 
 He raised his head to her, the tears streaming 
 down his face. 
 
 "You re all the mother I ve got left, Bridget!" 
 he said. 
 
XXXI 
 
 TOM S mother was buried in Mt. Auburn Ceme 
 tery on an Indian summer day with big cumulus 
 clouds floating slowly across an expanse of peerless 
 blue. He had lived through the intervening period 
 in a sort of dream, a dream that had had something 
 of delirium in it, for he had caught a severe cold on 
 the train, and had been running a high temperature 
 for several days. Just how he had got through these 
 days he did not know. But they held many sur 
 prises for him regarding his mother. 
 
 At the funeral in St. Agnes s, the church was 
 crowded with hundreds of people of every social 
 grade who had respected and loved her, and who 
 felt real pity for him now that she was gone. Many 
 wrote him letters of sympathy which showed plainly 
 how little he had really understood or appreciated 
 her. Apparently she had supported, or at least 
 assisted in supporting, dozens of worthy but in 
 digent persons, including widows and aged clergy 
 men, as well as girls and boys trying to secure an 
 education. All this she had done out of an income 
 so attenuated that it could hardly have paid the 
 gas bill of one of Tom s recent friends. He read 
 the letters in bitter contrition of spirit, for these 
 
 402 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 403 
 
 recipients of her charity had evidently valued her 
 far more than had he. 
 
 Yet alone he followed the little coffin up the 
 aisle, and alone he followed it down again, with 
 the words of St. Paul echoing in his ears and thrilling 
 his heart. He had boasted of being a materialist, 
 was, he still told himself, a materialist. But with 
 the rolling of the organ, the mellow light filtering 
 through the stained-glass windows, the scent of 
 the flowers, and the rows of tender faces filling the 
 church, he could not acknowledge that his mother 
 was gone from him forever. Indeed, he felt, cu 
 riously, as if she had never been so living before; 
 for he saw her in a new aspect as she really had 
 been, as she always would be to these hundreds of 
 beneficiaries, old and young, a protectress of the 
 poor and of the fatherless, beloved by them all 
 despite her homely limitations of speech and manner. 
 How trivial these now seemed to him ! That spirit 
 of love that had manifested itself in his mother 
 would never die. The little flower-covered shell 
 that was being carried on ahead of him was not 
 his mother, any more than the steel engraving of 
 the Madonna in her room had been the real Ma 
 donna. He could tear the picture up or burn it, 
 but her eyes would remain forever looking down 
 upon him, as he knew they were at that moment, 
 in sweet compassion. There was no analogy in 
 the thought, he knew perfectly well, but in a strange, 
 mysterious, sad, yet half -happy way, the idea of 
 immortality and of the eyes of the Madonna and 
 
404 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 his mother were somehow, as he walked with bent 
 head slowly down the aisle, all mixed up together. 
 He didn t feel that his mother was dead at all. He 
 thought of her now as he remembered her as a 
 child, young, with brown hair and smooth cheeks, 
 and with such loving eyes, eyes just like those of 
 the Madonna in the picture. Tom no longer felt 
 alone. He felt that his mother was nearer and 
 dearer to him than ever before would always 
 be so. In spite of himself, he had found her at 
 last. 
 
 There was only a handful of people at the grave 
 to witness the laying to rest of the earthly part of 
 the self-effacing woman who had never in her life 
 been the recipient of so much attention as was 
 being accorded to her now. It was a beautiful 
 spot, overhung with willows and surrounded by 
 golden oaks and scarlet and yellow maples. He 
 noticed that there were some women there some 
 of his mother s relatives, he supposed but they 
 stood back upon the path and left him at the grave 
 beside the clergyman, who briefly read the inter 
 ment service. As the coffin was lowered Tom fully 
 realized for the first time that his mother was ac 
 tually gone, and he experienced a benumbing sense 
 of his bereavement. He felt an almost uncontrol 
 lable desire to throw himself upon the grave and 
 cling passionately to the earth that was about to 
 separate her from him. But his New England 
 heredity restrained him, and tearless, yet with 
 parched throat, he listened quietly until it was over. 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 405 
 
 Well, his dear mother was at rest at last beside the 
 only other man whom she had loved. 
 
 "Thomas Kelly" his own name. Some day 
 he, too, would be lying in a grassy plot beneath 
 a similar marble stone, marked with these precise 
 words; and perhaps still another Thomas Kelly 
 would be gazing at it ! It gave him a strange feel 
 ing as if the Thomas Kelly already there were in 
 reality himself, or that, in some part at least, they 
 two were the same person. He stared stupidly at 
 the grave while these and a thousand other thoughts 
 danced in his brain. Presently he was aware that 
 the clergyman was extending his hand and ex 
 pressing his sympathy. Tom took the hand and 
 mumbled some perfunctory words of thanks in 
 reply. Then the clergyman moved away and Tom 
 was alone at his mother s grave. It was time for 
 him to go and leave her, just as he had always been 
 leaving her, only this time he would not find her 
 waiting for him on his return. There would be 
 only a mound of faded grass and a headstone, like 
 the others marked "Caroline Maria Kelly." And 
 this thought bred its converse, that now it was not 
 he who was leaving her, but she who was leaving 
 him. He would now suffer as he had made her 
 suffer. Involuntarily he half stretched out his arms 
 toward the grave, then he let them fall, and stood 
 motionless. 
 
 He stood thus a long time, so long that the few 
 mourners, who had been present, silently departed, 
 and the grave-diggers moved about uneasily among 
 
406 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 the neighboring tree trunks. He seemed to see his 
 mother s eyes looking down upon him from some 
 where, or were they those of the Madonna? Did 
 every mother every woman have eyes like the 
 Madonna s ? 
 
 "Tom, dear Tom!" 
 
 He felt a light touch upon his arm and discovered 
 those same eyes full of infinite pity, gazing into 
 his own. Evelyn s ! 
 
 "Poor Tom! Dear Tom!" she whispered. On 
 her own lashes hung tears of sympathy. He sought 
 her hand and held it. 
 
 After a little while she said softly: "You must 
 come away. I know how hard it is, but you must 
 come away." She moved back a few paces, and he 
 sank on his knees beside the grave for the last time. 
 Then he arose resolutely and crossed to where 
 Evelyn stood with her father, and waved aside the 
 hack which had been waiting. 
 
 "May I walk along back with you?" he asked. 
 "There s nobody at home now but Bridget." 
 
 He smiled a pathetic smile. 
 
 Silently they followed the grass-bordered paths 
 of the cemetery until, at length, they came out 
 upon Mt. Auburn Street and could see the River 
 Charles winding among the autumnal reds and 
 yellows of the salt marshes. A couple of gulls 
 flickered high in the air, specks of gleaming white, 
 and a cool, fresh breeze drew in from the unseen 
 harbor. Along the road the big elms bent friendly 
 heads, letting fall a scattering tribute to the coming 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 407 
 
 frost. There was a bite in the air, the eager nip of 
 the east wind that Tom had known as a boy, and 
 he rilled his aching lungs with it in deep breaths. 
 Countless times before had he walked along that 
 very road. 
 
 It seemed incredible that he could have been 
 away, even more incredible than that his mother 
 was dead. Both seemed incredible. Yet he knew 
 that he would not find her on his return to the 
 little house on Newbury Street, and he knew, in 
 a way, that what now seemed to him like a strange, 
 oppressive, noxious dream had been an actual 
 experience, not in his own existence, but in that 
 of another and different Thomas Kelly, as distinct 
 as the Thomas Kelly lying behind there in the 
 cemetery beside his mother. He felt physically 
 weak and limp; all confidence had gone from him. 
 He was like a child willing to be led, timid, dis 
 trustful of its own ability to think or do for itself. 
 
 The shadows were lengthening as they turned 
 up Ash to Brattle Street. At the corner he bade 
 them good night and with set teeth strode on alone 
 staring straight ahead of him. His heart was like 
 lead; his mind a gloomy cavern of regrets. So he 
 stalked on through Harvard Square and down Cam 
 bridge Street and out upon Harvard Bridge. 
 
 One by one the lamps broke out against the 
 brick sky-line of the Back Bay. He recalled those 
 countless evenings when as a small boy he had 
 lingered out beyond the time allowed, and had 
 returned home to find his mother anxiously await- 
 
408 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 ing him. There would be no mother waiting for 
 him now. The little home would be empty save 
 for its crowded memories. There would not even 
 be a light in the window. Must he go back to that 
 silent house ? He bit his lips and hurried on. Yes, 
 he must go back. It was but the beginning of his 
 penance. 
 
 It was dark when he reached the Beacon Street 
 side of the bridge, and as he walked along he could 
 look through the lighted windows into comfortable 
 "reception-rooms," "libraries," or "front parlors," 
 where by shaded lamps sat men and women, girls 
 and boys. In some of them he could see the fire 
 light flickering upon the walls. Bitterly he turned 
 away that he might not see the happiness of those 
 inside. If he had been kinder to his mother perhaps 
 she might have still been waiting for him beside 
 just such a fire ! That was the thought that pur 
 sued him and crushed his heart. 
 
 As he neared the house he could hardly persuade 
 his feet to enter. To open the door would be like 
 entering his mother s tomb. For a fleeting moment 
 he had a vague idea of taking the midnight train 
 back to New York, but the thought revolted him. 
 He was through with all that at any rate ! He had 
 shaken the dust from his feet. The prodigal had 
 returned too late perhaps but still he had re 
 turned to his own to his inheritance, whatever it 
 was. This was his home, shabby, prosaic, but still 
 his home where he belonged. 
 
 Automatically he followed the curbing around 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 409 
 
 the front grass plot that led to the steps. They 
 seemed to him higher than when he had climbed 
 them as a boy. In the lane of sky between the 
 roofs hung a little crescent moon, the same little 
 moon he had used to see when lying in his mother s 
 arms. He did not feel a day older than when he 
 had thus lain there so happily. Poor mother! 
 Then with an effort he gathered himself together. 
 He could read the name "Kelly" quite plainly 
 by the light of the street-lamp. His name "Kelly " ! 
 That was he "Kelly." This was his house, his 
 place, his earth. "You are now Kelly," the plate 
 seemed to say to him. "Here is where you belong. 
 Here you are exactly what you are and nothing 
 else. No pretense will avail you !" 
 
 He pulled the bell, just as his father had done 
 so many thousands of times before him, and heard 
 its faint jangle in the distant recesses of the kitchen. 
 Again he felt that it would be impossible for him 
 to enter that silent, empty house. He would go 
 to a hotel anywhere, and return in the morning. 
 But the door was almost immediately opened by 
 Bridget. 
 
 "There s a gintleman waitin for ye, Tom," she 
 said expectantly. "He was on the steps whin I 
 come home." 
 
 "A gentleman!" repeated Tom, astounded. 
 
 "He s from Noo York, he says," the old cook 
 answered. "A frind, he says, and that it will be 
 all right. So I lighted the gas fer him in the 
 parlor!" 
 
410 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 There was a strange derby hat lying upon the 
 walnut rack and an unaccustomed silk umbrella 
 in the stand. Tom hurried up the narrow stairs, 
 mechanically avoiding the pie-shaped trap on the 
 landing (which had been the cause of Mrs. Trollop s 
 debacle), and entered the parlor. 
 
 Parradym rose to greet him. 
 
 "Oh, Parry!" cried Tom, and then he choked. 
 It was kind of the old boy to come all the way on 
 to Boston. 
 
 "I only heard this morning," he explained, taking 
 Tom s hand, "or I should have come before. I 
 thought you might be a bit lonely and that if I 
 could be of any help 
 
 Tom perceived that there were tears in the old 
 bachelor s eyes. Good old Parradym! How he 
 had misjudged him ! Hardly conscious of his act, 
 Tom put both arms around his friend and laid his 
 head on his shoulder. 
 
 "Oh, Parry!" he repeated over and over again. 
 "Why did I ever leave her?" 
 
 The older man patted him on the head. 
 
 "I did the same thing. Every man does. And 
 some day each of us drinks the waters of repentance 
 just as you are doing now. You re not the only 
 man, Tom, that has neglected somebody who loved 
 you even if that is small consolation. You ll pay 
 your debt to her to some one else, your debt of 
 honor." 
 
 As Tom made ready for supper it occurred to him 
 that only a few people a dozen or so friends like 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 411 
 
 Allyn knew the real Parradym. The rest of the 
 world accepted the old fellow for a selfish parasite, 
 not suspecting that that bland, noncommittal ex 
 terior concealed a generous, kindly, sympathetic 
 nature. There weren t many men who would do 
 that kind of thing for a friend ! How easy it would 
 have been for Parry to have sent him a telegram 
 and let it go at that. Yet he had not waited, had 
 come on the impulse to stand by a lonely boy to 
 whom he owed nothing and from whom he could 
 expect nothing in return. 
 
 In the Kelly dining-room at the old black walnut 
 table, surrounded by the dying stags upon the 
 walls, Parradym and Tom ate supper together, 
 waited on by faithful Bridget. It was the same 
 sort of supper that Tom had always eaten in that 
 room, and it brought back to him vividly his moth 
 er s absence. He had never before sat there without 
 her. Cold meat, baked potatoes, sliced bread, cake, 
 apple sauce, and cocoa, even the "animal crackers," 
 from the remote corner of the biscuit-box, were 
 there in their particular plate. 
 
 "Animal crackers!" murmured Parradym, "I 
 haven t had one for twenty years !" and he helped 
 himself to a hippopotamus with as much gratifica 
 tion as was proper under the circumstances. 
 
 Before the end of the meal Tom had persuaded 
 Parradym to stay on with him at least for the pres 
 ent, for the thought of continuing to live there in 
 the house, alone save for Bridget, was intolerable, 
 and accordingly a messenger boy was despatched 
 
412 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 to the station for the bachelor s hand-luggage. Then 
 before the sea-coal fire in the library, where Tom had 
 sat every evening at his lessons when a boy, the two 
 smoked and talked. Every corner of the room held 
 some recollection for Tom. There stood the gro 
 tesque statuette of Daniel Webster against which 
 at the age of four he had fallen and bruised his eye; 
 here was the very spot on the table where his father 
 had accidentally burned the green baize cloth with 
 his cigar. There was the old clam-shell ash-receiver 
 with the two black comic figures done in silhouette; 
 here the mouse-hole once inhabited by a small 
 rodent addicted to the delectable binding of the 
 Encyclopedia Britannica. 
 
 Parradym examined the rows of books with 
 critical interest. 
 
 "Your father must have been a bookish man, 
 Tom," he said at length. "I haven t seen as well 
 selected a lot of volumes in some time. I fancy 
 you haven t either. I m sure old Selby didn t have 
 any weakness for Walter Pater, at any rate he didn t 
 disclose it to me. I wouldn t exchange my own 
 taste for books for anything else in life. I should 
 say you had a pretty fine heritage." 
 
 Tom shook his head dejectedly. 
 
 "I sold my birthright for a mess of pottage," 
 he answered. "I m just a rotter. I don t think 
 my mother suspected it though, that s one com 
 fort. But you know it and I know it, everybody 
 else knows it. And nothing I can do now can ever 
 make up for what I ve done !" 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 413 
 
 Parradym did not laugh or even smile, but laid 
 his hand affectionately on Tom s knee and said: 
 
 "I know how you feel. I don t blame you. I 
 shouldn t think half as much of you if you didn t. 
 But you re all wrong, lad! To me you re nothing 
 more than a child, a child who s taken a fall or two 
 in learning to walk, and who hasn t entirely learned 
 how to walk yet. Life s all before you ! If only I 
 were twenty-two again! How I envy you! Envy 
 your sorrows, your disappointments, your failures 
 as well as your joys, your achievements, your suc 
 cesses. Envy you the love of the girl who will some 
 day help you to pay the debt you owe to your mother 
 and to the rest of mankind, and make you the home 
 I haven t got." 
 
 He shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "If you were my age, you young jackanape, you 
 
 might have some excuse to grumble, but at yours 
 { 
 
 "But " expostulated Tom, "do you think any 
 decent girl would marry me if she knew what a 
 cad I d been?" 
 
 Then Parradym smiled. 
 
XXXII 
 
 OLD Squire Mason s law office was at the top of 
 a dark and winding flight of stairs in Barrister s 
 Hall. Tom had been there as a child with his father 
 and had dim recollections of bookcases with glass 
 doors lined with green silk, a little bronze paper 
 weight in the shape of a horse, and a very old man 
 with a parchment-like face behind a pair of horn 
 rimmed spectacles. The morning that he went to 
 Barrister s Hall to ascertain the extent of his mother s 
 estate he found nothing changed in the fifteen years 
 since he had last visited the lawyer s office. Squire 
 Mason was sitting now just where he had been 
 sitting then, his nose buried in a pile of papers. 
 
 "Oh come in!" he wheezed, squinting at Tom. 
 "Tom Kelly? Of course. Sit down. About your 
 mother s will, I assume?" 
 
 "Yes, sir," answered Tom, feeling like a very 
 small boy, and hardly daring to sit down, which 
 he finally did in a corner. 
 
 Squire Mason removed and wiped his spectacles 
 and then unfolded a foolscap paper which he re 
 moved from a pile of similar papers surrounded by 
 a piece of broad green tape. 
 
 "Your mother was a very remarkable woman!" 
 
 414 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 415 
 
 he announced suddenly and rather severely. "I 
 never understood how she managed to get along on 
 her income. Under your father s will she had a 
 perfect right to spend the principal of the trust he 
 created for her, but she never would. On the con 
 trary, she not only gave away a great deal but man 
 aged to save quite a little sum." 
 
 "I hope she had everything she wanted," said 
 Tom in reply. 
 
 "Her only thought was for you" answered the 
 old lawyer. "She didn t need much for herself, 
 and she wanted less. All she wished was to keep 
 a home for you and give you the best education 
 she could. I hope you deserved it." 
 
 "I didn t!" Tom confessed. "I didn t appre 
 ciate her." 
 
 "Urn!" remarked Squire Mason, looking side 
 ways at Tom and seeming to take slightly more 
 interest in him, for he added in a kindlier tone: 
 "You could hardly be expected to appreciate fully 
 all the sacrifices she made for you at your age. 
 I shall not offer her will for probate for you are 
 her only heir at law and next of kin, and your father s 
 will is, of course, already a matter of record. She 
 left you everything she had saved a little over 
 three thousand dollars." 
 
 He turned squarely at Tom. 
 
 "Now, don t make a fool of yourself and throw 
 this money away ! " he said gruffly. 
 
 Tom let his eyes fall before Squire Mason s search 
 ing gaze. 
 
416 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 "The money is mine?" he asked hesitatingly. 
 "To do exactly as I want to with?" 
 
 "Certainly of course it is." 
 
 "And you are my lawyer just as you were 
 hers?" asked Tom. 
 
 "Why, yes, I suppose so." 
 
 Squire Mason pushed his spectacles up over his 
 forehead and peered curiously at the lad from be 
 neath them. 
 
 "Then," announced Tom, "as my lawyer I want 
 you to send a check for three thousand dollars to 
 Joseph Wertheim, of the firm of Wertheim & Wert- 
 heim, at the Waldorf Astoria, New York." 
 
 Squire Mason s face grew grim. 
 
 "Been gambling?" 
 
 His jaws closed with a snap. Tom nodded. 
 
 "Yes, but not exactly the way you think. It s 
 an account I think my mother would want me to 
 wipe off," he said quietly. 
 
 During the next few days Tom passed many 
 sad and lonely hours going over the contents of 
 the Newbury Street house, deciding what he should 
 destroy or give away, and what he should keep. 
 Parradym, appreciating that this was a task which 
 no one could do for his friend, absented himself 
 on long walks, leaving Tom to perform those duties 
 which took on almost the character of sacred rights. 
 There was his mother s little wooden desk, for in 
 stance. For a long time he could not bring him 
 self to touch it, full as he knew it to be of tokens of 
 her care and affection. Yet, at last, one bright 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 417 
 
 morning after Parradym had gone out, he entered 
 his mother s bedroom, and under the eyes of the 
 steel-engraved Madonna, unlocked the desk and 
 one by one pulled out the drawers. His eyes filled 
 with tears of contrition as he discovered in neat 
 little packages every letter that he had ever written 
 to her, beginning with one in his fourth year ad 
 dressed "Darling mummer" and signed "Tom" 
 with a tiny "t" and a very big "m" that trailed 
 off in zigzags down the page. Again and again as 
 he came upon the evidences of her love the little 
 keepsakes he had given her, his first little pair of 
 white kid shoes, his childish "knitting" done through 
 a spool, a marble or two (perhaps the very ones his 
 father had picked up the day of his birth), a small 
 rubber doll, he laid his head down upon his arms, 
 and gave way utterly to his grief. 
 
 When it was accomplished he left the chamber 
 with a new realization of the sacred character of 
 his mother s devotion. He perceived the real depth 
 of her instinctive religious feeling, however illogical 
 and petty some of its outward expressions might 
 have been the truth of her homely, oft-repeated 
 phrase that she would rather have him "good" 
 than "great." Grimly he told himself that he 
 would never be either, and yet, nevertheless, 
 already felt himself stronger for her unseen in 
 fluence. 
 
 As he raised his eyes to those of the Madonna 
 above his head, before crossing the threshold for the 
 last time, he caught sight of the old worsted motto 
 
418 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 bearing the well-remembered legend of "Look unto 
 me and be ye saved." How often as a child, as 
 a boy, and later as a man he had asked himself 
 what there was to be saved from. Now he knew. 
 His mother s death had taught him the depth of 
 her self-sacrifice, had saved him from the complete 
 consequences of his own selfishness. Again there 
 came to him the thought that had hovered in his 
 brain that feverish morning four years before as 
 he lay in bed after his episode with Peters, that 
 some people were perhaps saved by music, and 
 some by the thought of their mothers, and some by 
 the love of Jesus Christ, and that after all perhaps 
 it was all a part of the same thing. He had been 
 saved, he knew that; and he knew also that it was 
 by her love alone that he had been saved, a love 
 that was nothing less than divine, the love that is 
 the gift of the Madonna to all mothers and is the 
 salvation of men. 
 
 " That was my room ! " said Tom, pointing out 
 to Parradym the entry of Thayer s Hall, upon the 
 steps of which he had loitered during so many com 
 paratively recent hours. "Those two windows on 
 the left." 
 
 A lank youth was sitting upon the cushioned 
 sill, his legs propped against the wall, smoking a 
 long meerschaum pipe. He had a book upon his 
 knees, but his gaze was concentrated upon a couple 
 of very busy gray squirrels who were scampering 
 around the grass under the nearest elm. Tom felt 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 419 
 
 a pang of jealousy at the sight of this other chap 
 who now occupied the room where he had frittered 
 away his time in idle ease. They had walked out 
 one afternoon from Boston, for Parradym was also, 
 a Harvard man and had expressed a desire to re 
 visit the scenes of his youth. 
 
 "Wonderful period college life!" sighed Par 
 radym. 
 
 "I wish I thought so," replied Tom sincerely. 
 "I know that I got precious little out of it. First 
 I was sore because I thought I was left out of every 
 thing, and didn t have sense enough to know that 
 the reason was because I ought to have been left 
 out. Then I got in by accident and it went to 
 my head. If I hadn t got in I might have dis 
 covered what it was that kept me out and taken 
 pains to change." 
 
 Parradym chuckled : 
 
 "Well, you seem to have found out!" he said 
 good-naturedly. 
 
 "At a price!" 
 
 "It s a lesson well worth the cost, isn t it?" 
 
 Tom uttered an expression of disgust. 
 
 "When I think of the opportunities I chucked 
 away " 
 
 " My dear boy ! That s precisely what you came 
 here for, wasn t it? You ve learned that they 
 were opportunities. You can t expect to learn 
 everything out of books! Some people claim that 
 you can t learn anything out of them. The op 
 portunities are still yours. You haven t even begun 
 
420 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 to get ready for the battle of life. By the way, 
 what are you going to do, anyhow?" 
 
 They had crossed Harvard Street and could see 
 Dane Hall, the building devoted to the Harvard 
 Law School. 
 
 "I don t know," answered Tom slowly. "I 
 don t feel as if I were good for anything. I haven t 
 said much about it, but, frankly, it makes me sick 
 to think of myself!" 
 
 "Come! Come!" retorted Parradym almost 
 angrily. "That s no way to talk. What do you 
 suppose your mother would want you to be?" 
 
 "A lawyer like my father," admitted Tom. 
 
 "Well?" hazarded Parradym. 
 
 At that moment the tall form of Professor Russell 
 appeared swinging across from Jarvis Field, and as 
 he approached he waved at them. 
 
 "Hello!" he called. "We were speaking of you 
 only to-day. Are you thinking of entering the law 
 school this autumn? If you are, you ought to 
 register." 
 
 Tom presented Parradym and the three strolled 
 along Harvard School together. 
 
 "Kelly has an idea that he fooled so much at 
 college that he isn t fit to undertake a serious job 
 like studying law," suggested the bachelor. 
 
 "Rot!" replied Russell. "There s a curious 
 thing we all notice out here, and that is that once 
 a man enters a professional school he sloughs off 
 all the foolishness that characterized him in college 
 and gets right down to business. In fact the chaps 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 421 
 
 that were the laziest in college often make the 
 hardest grinds afterward particularly in the law 
 school. Perhaps it s because they re not all worked 
 out before they get there. Everybody works. If 
 I had a son I believe I d send him there just as a 
 piece of mental discipline. I don t know a surer 
 index of ability than to get an " A " at the law school 
 over there. 
 
 "Besides, if a fellow hasn t done his best perhaps 
 he ought to try and show that he s got the stuff 
 in him after all," added the philosopher. 
 
 "Come and see us soon!" said Russell. "I ve 
 got a lecture." He nodded and turned down a 
 path while Tom and Parradym continued on. 
 
 "Wonderful face that fellow has!" remarked 
 Parradym, looking after him. 
 
 "If I had only had sense enough to appreciate 
 what he told me in my freshman year I wouldn t 
 have been the fool I have," admitted Tom. 
 
 "Don t be too hard on yourself," commented 
 Parradym. "Experience is the best and, generally, 
 the only teacher. You re not so different from other 
 fellows of your age." 
 
 The afternoon sun had turned the yellow leaves 
 of the elms about Memorial Hall to glittering gold 
 as they mounted the steps and entered the cool 
 and shadowy transept. On every side Tom could 
 read inscribed in marble the names of the Harvard 
 men who had died for the cause of Liberty in 1861. 
 How many times he had hurried by unthinkingly 
 in his early college days ! The names had seemed 
 
422 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 then only a part of the mural decorations of the 
 great refectory. Now they had a deep significance. 
 These men had paid their "debt of honor 77 with 
 their youth, had unhesitatingly thrown away their 
 lives to perpetuate the ideals of the college that 
 they loved. Silent, he removed his hat and Par- 
 radym did the same. 
 
 "For us!" murmured Parradym. 
 
 They climbed into the gallery and looked down 
 upon the silent hall with its row upon row of empty 
 tables, deserted save for a solitary scrub-woman. 
 Through the great windows poured the autumn 
 sunlight, softening the features of those other Har 
 vard men whose portraits hung upon the walls, 
 uniformed officers of the Revolution and the Civil 
 War, judges in their robes of office, high-stocked 
 dignitaries of an olden time, students, professors, 
 former presidents of the college sober, stern, solemn 
 most of them but worthy sons of a great mother. 
 
 "A fine lot," said Parradym. "They believed 
 in something, and they lived up to their belief." 
 
 They slowly retraced their steps across the Yard 
 past Holworthy Hall, Hollis, Stoughton, and Mas 
 sachusetts, and in the square they separated, Par 
 radym to walk back to Boston, and Tom to look 
 for Francis True whom he had not seen since the 
 spring. He did not know where his friend was now 
 living, but opposite his name in the college catalogue 
 was a near-by address upon Brattle Street with the 
 information that he was studying music in the 
 graduate school. Tom found the number upon a 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 423 
 
 white gate in front of an old colonial house with 
 drawn from the street at the end of a leaf-strewn 
 lawn, and as he approached the half-open door 
 he could hear the sound of a piano. In the plain 
 tive, fluttering notes he recognized Nevin s "Au 
 tumn " one of Frank s favorite pieces. It was 
 played so wistfully that Tom wondered. Frank 
 had always been gladness personified. The piano 
 stopped and Tom stepped across the threshold. 
 
 "Oh Frank! "he called. 
 
 There was a sound of awkward footsteps and a 
 door opened above. 
 
 "Hello! Who is it?" came Frank s voice. 
 
 "Me! Tom Kelly!" 
 
 Frank gave a cry of delight. 
 
 "Come up! Come up!" he shouted, "I m ter 
 ribly glad to see you !" 
 
 Tom leaped up the stairs and grabbed his friend s 
 hand. 
 
 "You ve moved you old sinner!" he said. "I 
 had to look you up in the catalogue!" 
 
 "Yes," answered Frank. "I m taking an ad 
 vanced course in music. It s what I really care 
 for, you know. I haven t much else." 
 
 He smiled faintly. 
 
 Tom looked at him quickly. The words had been 
 uttered quite unconsciously, were not a bid for 
 sympathy, but for Tom they unexpectedly opened 
 wide the doors of hope, doors which he believed to 
 be tightly locked. He did not, however, imme 
 diately follow the lead thus given. He had to ad- 
 
424 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 just himself to this new idea that Frank had 
 nothing but his music. He had always supposed 
 that Frank would some day marry Evelyn. Cer 
 tainly she had always shown him the greatest favor. 
 There was no doubt about their friendship, and 
 then that night Class Day There was some 
 thing he evidently did not understand. By and 
 by he came back to it. 
 
 "But Frank," he said, "aren t you going to 
 marry Evelyn?" 
 
 Frank stopped in the act of poking the fire and 
 looked at Tom with a half-surprised expression. 
 
 "No," he replied simply. "She doesn t care for 
 me in that way." 
 
 "But, Frank!" expostulated Tom, "surely you 
 you " 
 
 " Oh, the trouble isn t with me ! " answered Frank 
 in matter-of-fact tones. "She simply doesn t love 
 me, that s all. Besides, I should never ask her, I 
 couldn t ask her to marry me with my deformity 
 even if she loved me, which she doesn t." 
 
 It was the first reference he had ever made to 
 Tom concerning his infirmity, and the last. 
 
 He looked out of the window for a moment at 
 the sunlight checkered rustling leaves, then turned 
 to Tom with a smile: 
 
 "You re the only one she s ever cared about, old 
 fellow. Ask her and see for yourself." 
 
 Such generous loyalty, in contrast to his own 
 former attitude, made Tom ashamed. 
 
 "You re a brick, Frank!" he exclaimed impul- 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 425 
 
 sively. "Perhaps you re mistaken. Are you 
 sure?" 
 
 "She doesn t love me," Frank repeated. "That s 
 all there is to it. Now, Tom, go to it with my 
 blessing." 
 
 He laughed cheerfully and made a gesture of 
 benediction. 
 
 "I m not fit to ask her," answered Tom, hanging 
 his head. 
 
 "Nobody is!" said Frank. "By the way, where 
 are you going to live this winter?" 
 
 "I don t know," answered Tom. "I can t stay 
 in the Newbury Street house all alone." 
 
 Frank turned to him eagerly. 
 
 "See here, Tom!" he cried. "Why don t you 
 come and hang out with me here? I ve got an extra 
 bedroom, and there aren t any other roomers. We 
 could have things all to ourselves. It would be 
 simply bully if you would. And and Tom ! I m 
 lonely!" 
 
 Tom put his arm about Frank s shoulders. Since 
 his mother s death he was easily moved. 
 
 "So am I, Frank!" he said. "If you can stand 
 me, I ll come with pleasure! When shall it be? 
 Next week?" 
 
 "The sooner the better!" exclaimed Frank. 
 
 "Next week, then! And Bridget shall come 
 along and take care of us !" exclaimed Tom. "And 
 now I ve got to beat it! Hello! It s nearly five 
 o clock! I m afraid I ll be late to my appoint 
 ment!" 
 
426 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 The fictional appointment was the offspring of 
 Frank s unexpected disclosure about Evelyn. Up 
 to that moment the consciousness of his regenera 
 tion had merely mitigated the loathing which he 
 entertained for his past conduct and encouraged 
 him to feel that so far as the present was concerned 
 he might look his fellow men in the face. He had 
 been yanked back from the edge of the cliff, pulled 
 together and set on his feet. So far, he had been 
 simply like a drugged person resuscitated and 
 brought to his senses. But now he felt the leap 
 of the blood in his veins and knew he was really 
 alive again, and the song of the birds was sweet in 
 his ears and the sunlit air filled him with a joyous 
 intoxication. Life held something to live for. The 
 greatest prize of all might still be his, unless, for 
 sooth, he deliberately tossed it aside as he had be 
 fore. Blind bat that he had been! What were 
 Lulie and Pauline he squirmed internally beside 
 her? He mustn t lose a minute in making up the 
 time he had lost. His heart knocked almost as 
 loudly against his ribs as did his knuckles upon the 
 door of the little house on Appian Way. 
 
 "Come in!" 
 
 Evelyn was sitting alone by the window in the 
 miniature library, sewing. She looked exactly as 
 she had the first night he had seen her there in his 
 freshman year, only a shade more mature per 
 haps. Had she heard anything ? Had some officious 
 friend casually dropped any calculated innuendoes 
 about his affairs of the past summer ? In any case, 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 427 
 
 she should know him for exactly what he was. He 
 would keep back nothing. She looked up, smiling 
 as he entered, and held out her hand. 
 
 "Hello, Tom! Awfully glad to see you. Dad s 
 out. Of course, come in just the same. You might 
 even have a pipe." 
 
 Tom started to raise her hand to his lips, then 
 changed his mind and pressed it instead. 
 
 "Thanks," he answered awkwardly, perceiving 
 that his task was going to be no easy one. "I didn t 
 come to see your father. I came to see you." 
 
 "That s good," she laughed. "Well, here I am, 
 just where I ve always been." 
 
 He looked quickly at her to see if the remark 
 held any particular significance for him, but ap 
 parently she had not so intended. He sat down in 
 the old leather chair and gazed at her helplessly. 
 What a delightful picture she made with her head 
 bowed over her work ! How utterly different she 
 was from the girls he had known at Newport ! But 
 it was very difficult to tell her so. Several minutes 
 they sat thus in silence, save for the snapping of 
 the coal in the fireplace and the heavy breathing 
 of the old collie on the rag rug in front of it. Then 
 Evelyn raised her eyes and laid her sewing in her 
 lap. 
 
 "Well, Tom," she said, "it s nice to have you 
 back with us again." 
 
 He tried to speak, stammered and gave it up. 
 While she might not think such a terrible lot of 
 him, nevertheless, she had no idea what a cad he 
 
428 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 had been. He had her good-will at any rate, and 
 it was hard to utter the words which might alter 
 it to disgust. He shook his head mutely and his 
 lids dropped as if made of lead, heavy as his heart. 
 He was thinking of his last interview with Lulie 
 and the recollection of it was like a bad taste in his 
 mouth. Could he ask a decent girl to care for him 
 after the way he had demeaned himself? And 
 Pauline! He sat there stultified with abasement. 
 Perhaps it was just as well for his character that 
 the excuses of inexperience, youth, and loneliness 
 did not suggest themselves to him. He felt only 
 his degradation. And now that he realized that 
 he had never really cared for any one but Evelyn 
 that what he had taken for or was willing to 
 accept as a substitute for love had been nothing 
 but the imaginings of a brain poisoned by the at 
 mosphere in which he had been thrown it seemed 
 incredible that he could have ever allowed her sweet 
 image to have been effaced from his mind. He made 
 a disconsolate picture as he sat there struggling 
 with his desire to tell her everything and beg for 
 her forgiveness and his reluctance to destroy her 
 confidence in him. 
 
 Evelyn saw how troubled he was and made an 
 effort to put him at ease. 
 
 "Poor Tom!" she said gently. "How hard it 
 has all been for you !" 
 
 He groaned and covered his face with his hands. 
 
 "Oh, Evelyn! If you only knew what a beast 
 I ve been, you might never speak to me again !" 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 429 
 
 "Why, Tom!" she protested. "How can you 
 say such a thing!" 
 
 "Listen!" he burst out suddenly through his 
 teeth. "You don t know me. I m an entirely 
 different sort of chap from what you think. I ve 
 been a miserable, low-down cad!" 
 
 She raised troubled brows to him over her sew 
 ing. 
 
 "Oh, Tom!" she answered. "You have been 
 so brave. I m sure you do yourself an injustice." 
 
 "No!" he insisted, now ready for the plunge. 
 "I ve been a wretched coward, a reckless fool, 
 and and worse! I ve got to tell you, Evelyn! 
 Don t stop me ! I couldn t go on living unless you 
 knew!" 
 
 She turned her face again to her work, and there 
 was a slight flush above her collar and around the 
 roots of her hair. 
 
 "What I m going to tell you may seem strange 
 after the way I acted on Class Day!" he hur 
 ried on shamefacedly. "I don t know what pos 
 sessed me that night. I hope you have forgiven 
 me!" 
 
 She smiled, and her smile was everywhere at 
 once, in her eyes, her dimple, and her hair. 
 
 "Are you taking back what you said?" she in 
 quired innocently. 
 
 "No," he replied. "I m merely asking you to 
 let me have a chance before you give me an an 
 
 swer." 
 
 "You didn t deserve any answer then!" she 
 
430 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 replied, looking away from him. "You didn t 
 know me any more than you say I know you. 
 To you I was just a pencil sketch of a girl in pink 
 ribbons with a pair of black eyes, a violin-case, and 
 a collie dog!" 
 
 A look of appreciation broke over his face. 
 
 "It s rather a queer thing to say," he admitted 
 slowly, "but, Evelyn, I really believe you re right! 
 I never got below the surface of anything even 
 you ! I was a sort of original Peter Bell to whom 
 a primrose on the river s brim was just a primrose 
 and nothing else. Somehow, I think you know me 
 better than I supposed ! " 
 
 His laugh was rueful, but it was a laugh none 
 the less. 
 
 "Anyhow, it s all right as long as you can laugh 
 about it," she consoled him. "I think a laugh 
 on oneself," her voice lowered, "is the best evi 
 dence of a clear conscience. So to that extent 
 you re all right." 
 
 Another silence followed, comfortable; without 
 constraint. Then Tom said: 
 
 "Some day I m going to put that question to 
 you again and insist on an answer. But I couldn t 
 do it unless I made a clean breast of everything. 
 I ve got to begin all over again, and I ve come to 
 ask you to help me. I thought that what was be 
 tween us wasn t the thing to tell a girl. It wasn t 
 to the pink-ribbon violin-case kind. But it s 
 different with you, Evelyn. Somehow, I feel as if 
 I couldn t hide anything from you anyway. So 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 431 
 
 here goes. I m going to get the whole rotten busi 
 ness off my chest!" 
 
 "Have you so much to say to me?" she asked, 
 a note of timidity in her voice. 
 
 "Indeed I have!" he retorted passionately. He 
 had made up his mind to bare his soul to her, to 
 leave nothing unconfessed, to start clean and fair. 
 "But I want to say something at the start, not by 
 way of defense but of explanation. You see, I never 
 had anything definite to steer by. I couldn t stand 
 the old-fashioned kind of religion that my mother 
 taught me. It didn t ring true to me. And no 
 body offered me a satisfactory substitute. So 
 I ve just drifted along any old way. I ve been 
 weak and silly, a conceited ass without anything 
 to be conceited about, and, because I thought you 
 cared for some one else, I just let myself go " 
 
 "You mean Frank?" she asked. 
 
 "Yes. I always supposed you were in love with 
 him." 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 "He s a dear friend, but I ve never loved him," 
 she said, looking frankly at Tom. 
 
 "If I d only known that," he sighed, "every 
 thing would have been different. But I didn t! 
 Oh, Evelyn ! I don t know how to begin, but I ve 
 come to tell you the whole story and I m going 
 through with it; that is, if you ll let me?" he added 
 submissively. 
 
 She did not refuse. Her curiosity would have 
 impelled acquiescence in his request, if nothing else. 
 
432 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 But there was something else of which she had 
 always been conscious from their first accidental 
 meeting in the Yard, the something else that no 
 science or philosophy can explain. 
 
 "I am listening, Tom," she said half to herself. 
 
 He pulled his chair nearer to her and, with his 
 eyes fixed intently on her face, brokenly made his 
 confession. Doggedly he recited his ignominious 
 experience at Newport, including every detail of 
 his affairs with Lulie and Pauline, every low and 
 mercenary thought that he had entertained, every 
 callous neglect of his mother. It was a crude a 
 preposterous an extraordinary performance. And 
 it was a hard position for a girl to find herself in. 
 Gradually Tom s face grew drawn, almost haggard. 
 But he went stubbornly on until there was nothing 
 left to tell, and when it was over he wiped the beads 
 of perspiration from his forehead with his fingers, 
 closed his eyes, and gave a great, shuddering sigh 
 of relief. 
 
 He was thankful to her for letting him sit there, 
 motionless, head thrown back, as long as he liked. 
 Presently he opened his eyes, got up, and stood 
 before her. 
 
 "Now I m ready to begin to try to make good," 
 he said. As he spoke, he saw her move a fraction of 
 an inch in his direction, saw her breast rise and 
 fall a little quicker for the quickening of her breath. 
 Could Frank s assurance that Evelyn cared for 
 him possibly be true? This was no time to ask 
 her, anyhow, just after he had told her all about 
 
THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 433 
 
 himself shown himself up for a whited sepulchre. 
 She was simply disgusted with him, probably. 
 
 "Will you help me?" he asked. 
 
 She rose to her feet and he took her hand. To 
 his surprise, he felt that she was trembling. 
 
 "Of course!" she said, looking him full in the 
 face. "Tom ! You re not a coward, you re a brave 
 boy!" 
 
 He shook his head impatiently. 
 
 "No," he protested, "I m not. I had to tell 
 you, don t you see? There wouldn t have been 
 any use trying to be different unless you knew 
 I was different." 
 
 He still held her hand. She had not drawn it 
 away, and he could see a mist gathering in her eyes. 
 A strange, wonderful, ecstatic feeling pervaded 
 him almost made him dizzy. He too was trem 
 bling. He lifted her hand and kissed it. 
 
 "If it wasn t for you dear," he whispered, "I 
 couldn t try. There d be nothing to make it worth 
 while. But if if some day after I ve left the 
 law school after I ve made good there d be a 
 chance ever so small of your saying yes to 
 that question I asked you then, why then " 
 
 He stopped amazed, for her lips were quivering 
 and the flush in her cheeks had deepened to a man 
 tle of dark red. 
 
 "Then?" she smiled through tear-hung lashes. 
 "Only then?" 
 
 "Evelyn!" he cried with a great leap of the 
 heart, still unbelieving, and drew her to him. 
 
434 THE WORLD AND THOMAS KELLY 
 
 "Evelyn!" he repeated, gathering her in his 
 arms and pressing his lips to the hair above her 
 forehead. "Dearest girl! I need you now /" 
 
 She laid her head on his shoulder and he could 
 feel the fluttering of her heart against his. 
 
 "Oh, Tom!" she sighed, closing her eyes "I 
 think you do !" 
 
BY ARTHUR TRAIN 
 
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 The Neapolitan The Presumption of In- 
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 Criminals ? The Jury 
 
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 Red Tape What Fosters Crime? 
 
 Insanity as a Defence 
 
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