THE ARCH -SATIRIST
 
 "The least we can do is to apologize, 
 
 and we do it thus." Page, 299
 
 THE 
 
 ARCH-SATI RIST 
 
 BY 
 FRANCES DE WOLFE FENWICK 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BY 
 
 CHARLES COPELAND 
 
 "Justice had been done, and Time, the Arch- Satirist, 
 had had his joke out." THOMAS HAEDT. 
 
 BOSTON 
 LOTHROP, LEE fcf SHEPARD CO.
 
 Published, March, 1910 
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1910, BY LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD Co. 
 All Rights Reserved 
 
 Entered at Stationer's Hall, London 
 THE ARCH-SATIRIST 
 
 Norfoooto 
 BERWICK & SMITH Co. 
 Norwood, Mass., U. 8. A.
 
 SRLi 
 URU 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. "HALF DEVIL AND HALF CHILD" i 
 
 II. A VISIT TO AGATHA 18 
 
 III. " FORSAKEN GUTS AND CREEKS " . -43 
 
 IV. A BRILLIANT MATCH 54 
 
 V. "BLIND FOOLS OF FATE" 63 
 
 VI. " LIFE AT ITS END " 78 
 
 VII. A SHORT REPENTANCE 93 
 
 VIII. " PUNCHINELLO " 109 
 
 IX. " JUST A FEW OF THE GIRLS " . . . . 122 
 
 X. " A FIN -DE - SIECLE PAIR " . . .141 
 
 XL VISITORS AND DISCLOSURES .... 164 
 
 XII. THE VIEWS OF Two WOMEN .... 174 
 
 XIII. REJECTED ADDRESSES 192 
 
 XIV. A DECISION TO BE REACHED .... 209 
 
 XV. " BE PITIFUL, O GOD ! " 232 
 
 XVI. THE HOCKEY MATCH 240 
 
 XVII. A SCANDAL VERIFIED 255 
 
 XVIII. MRS. HADWELL'S FANCY DRESS BALL . . 266 
 
 XIX. AGATHA " DOES HER DUTY " AND Is REWARDED 276 
 
 XX. THE TWINS UNDER A NEW ASPECT . . . 285 
 
 XXL A LIE WHICH Is PART A TRUTH . . . 302 
 
 XXII. WHISPERING TONGUES 313 
 
 XXIII. WHEN LOVE Is DONE 325 
 
 XXIV. MRS. LANGHAM-GREEN PAYS HER DEBT; AND 
 
 MRS. WAITE, HERS 33 2 
 
 XXV. THE SHADOWS FALL .... 342
 
 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 "HALF DEVIL AND HALF CHILD" 
 
 " Then the preacher preached of Sin . . . fair of flower 
 and bitter of fruit." Juliana Horatia Ewing. 
 
 " A | ^ O me the idea of slaving for a life- 
 time in order to die rich is a piti- 
 -*- ful sort of insanity. That's the 
 Italian in me, I suppose. I would think it 
 wiser to drink drink deep and long and 
 gloriously and die of it die in a ditch 
 if necessary! Then I would have lived 
 some sort of life, anyway, and enjoyed it 
 after my fashion. But I'm not going to 
 live or die that way. I'm going to take 
 everything in life that's worth having, and 
 I'm going to enjoy and enjoy and en- 
 joy! The devil, himself, can't cheat me of 
 it. I've long arrears of happiness to make 
 up and by God Til make them!"
 
 2 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 The speaker broke off, coughing horribly; 
 a gleam of intense rage shone in his great, 
 wild eyes and his thin nostrils quivered, 
 furiously. Poor slight earth-worm! caught 
 in the whirlwind of Destiny and tossed 
 hither and thither! compelled to falsify his 
 weak boasts even as he uttered them! The 
 man who sat opposite, smoking and loung- 
 ing in the dim light of the studio, withdrew 
 his gaze with an effort from his visitor's 
 frail form and frenzied face; there seemed 
 something indecent in gazing thus openly 
 at the contortions of a naked soul. 
 
 " Have a little hot Scotch for the cough," 
 he suggested, reluctantly. " What's the 
 use? I may just as well give it to him, 
 here," he added to himself. " The boy's 
 trebly doomed and a drop more or less isn't 
 going to make any difference either way." 
 He busied himself with a spirit lamp and 
 glasses and soon his visitor was gulping 
 down the proffered draught, greedily. 
 
 "That's good!" he exclaimed. "That 
 puts life in me. I feel as if I could write 
 something now something worth while." 
 
 " Something unfit for reading, I suppose 
 you mean," returned his host, cheerfully.
 
 "HALF DEVIL" 3 
 
 The boy laughed easily and settled back 
 among the cushions of his easy chair with 
 panther-like grace. 
 
 " Not a bit of it," he answered, gaily. 
 " I only write them after gin. The best 
 thing I ever did was gin ' Sin's Lure/ 
 You read it?" 
 
 " I did." 
 
 "Strong, wasn't it?" 
 
 " Strong, yes. So is a so are various 
 other things strong. Just the sort of thing 
 a diseased, vice-racked, dissipated young 
 genius like you might be expected to 
 produce. What bothers me now is your 
 prose. Anything more uncharacteristic " 
 
 The boy laughed and gazed at the older 
 man, intently and mischievously. 
 
 "Nothing morbid about that, is there?" 
 
 " Nothing. Bright, dainty, unerringly 
 truthful, delightfully witty how in thun- 
 der do you do it? You must have two 
 souls." 
 
 ' Two ! I've got a dozen." 
 
 The boy lit a cigarette and puffed it, 
 meditatively. The man smoked a well-col- 
 oured pipe and gazed steadily at his visitor. 
 Seen thus, they were an ill-assorted pair.
 
 4 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 Gerald Amherst, the owner of the studio, 
 was an artist, uncursed overmuch by the 
 artistic temperament. His strong, sane 
 face and massive figure suggested the ath- 
 lete, the pose and substance of his attitude 
 the successful business man. Nor did the 
 omens lie. He was an athlete in his lei- 
 sure moments, a business man at all times. 
 Art was his occupation, his delight; but 
 he never forgot that she was also his bread- 
 winner. Amherst painted good, sometimes 
 exceptional pictures ; and he demanded 
 and obtained good, sometimes excep- 
 tional prices for them. For the rest he 
 was thirty-four, fine-looking, well-bred, 
 honest and popular. Friends came to 
 him as flies come in July to ordinary 
 mortals. 
 
 So alien was his visitor that he hardly 
 seemed to belong to the same world. Lithe, 
 long-limbed, sinuous, with features of al- 
 most feminine delicacy and charm and 
 hands that made the artist soul in Gerald 
 vibrate pleasurably. The eyes deep-set, 
 hollow, passionate were the eyes of a 
 lost soul; impenetrable, fathomless, and 
 lurid.
 
 "HALF DEVIL" 5 
 
 Strange, alluring, repellent personality! 
 where the seeds of a thousand sins sown 
 centuries before bore hideous fruit. Mad- 
 ness, vice, disease, and death and, through 
 them all, the golden fire of genius! This 
 boy's age was nineteen; and no second 
 glance was needed to tell that the fierce, 
 straining spirit must soon leave its wretched 
 tenement behind and fare forth into dark- 
 ness. In the meantime Amherst puffed 
 at his pipe and thought. A year ago this 
 boy had been a pet and idol of Montreal 
 society; to-day his open corruptness had 
 closed all doors to him save those of a few, 
 who, like Amherst, forgave the madman in 
 the genius, and the beast in the dying 
 boy. 
 
 Then, too, our hero was an artist; and 
 Leo Ricossia was a model such as artist 
 seldom sees. He was graceful as some 
 young wild animal; his delicately nervous 
 body could form no pose that was not pleas- 
 ing. As for his face thin-lipped, wide- 
 eyed, luminous " Ricossia will never write 
 a poem so wonderful as his face," a brother- 
 artist had once remarked; and Amherst 
 fully concurred in the opinion.
 
 6 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 Ricossia spoke presently, his dark eyes 
 heavy with thought. 
 
 " You think it possible that one may have 
 ten souls? " 
 
 " I think it probable that one soul may 
 have twenty outlooks, and all of them vile, 
 when he has soaked in sufficient gin. But 
 how an unhealthy mind can produce healthy 
 stuff that's beyond me. Your prose is 
 healthy, and what's more, it's fine. It ranks 
 with " He stopped abruptly, amazed and 
 confounded by the glitter in Ricossia's 
 eye. 
 
 ' You you don't think it better than 
 my poetry? You can't!" 
 
 "I think in a sense it is better!" 
 Amherst spoke slowly and Ricossia leaned 
 forward to catch his words with an avid- 
 ity which seemed disproportioned to the 
 matter in hand. " In another sense it's 
 not so good, of course. The poems are 
 unhealthy, feverish, abnormal but, in 
 their way, they're efforts of genius. The 
 stories are simply very unusually clever 
 prose healthy, witty, and clean. Person- 
 ally I prefer them." 
 
 "You you miserable Philistine!"
 
 "HALF DEVIL" 7 
 
 The boy leaned back as though relieved 
 and his scarlet lips parted in a smile of 
 startling sweetness. The eyes had lost 
 their wild gleam now and were simply 
 wells of dusky kindness and fellowship; 
 the eyes of an intelligent, friendly brute 
 with something added. Gerald noted the 
 change with unflagging interest; as a 
 study the boy never palled. 
 
 "You think I'm a bad lot, don't you?" 
 
 " I think you're as bad as the worst. But 
 a chap like you isn't to be judged by ordi- 
 nary standards." 
 
 ' Yet," pursued Ricossia, slowly, " you 
 allow that I can write clean stuff. Per- 
 haps in spite of it all, underneath it all 
 my soul is clean." 
 
 '' I hope so; but I don't believe it for a 
 moment. No, I can't account for it that 
 way." 
 
 " Possibly," suggested the other, puffing 
 fitfully, " possibly, then, my unclean spirit 
 has gained control of some healthy, human 
 soul which it dominates." 
 
 :t Possibly you're talking awful rot," re- 
 turned the other, good-humouredly but a 
 trifle impatiently.
 
 8 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 " Possibly I am." 
 
 The poet smiled softly and leaned back, 
 making a lovely thing of the corner where 
 he lounged. 
 
 " Healthy people often have a liking for 
 me," he observed. " You, for instance 
 the healthiest man I know. And the health- 
 iest woman Miss Thayer." 
 
 " That'll do." 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 " That you mustn't speak of her." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " You ought to know." 
 
 The boy stared, uncomprehendingly; 
 then threw himself back, chuckling inau- 
 dibly. 
 
 " You didn't understand me," he said at 
 last, his beautiful eyes bright with amuse- 
 ment. " She has far too much sense to be 
 attracted by me in the ordinary way. I 
 meant only " 
 
 " I don't care what you meant. I don't 
 like to talk to you about her and I won't. 
 If she did bestow a good deal of attention 
 on you at one time it was before she knew 
 your real character; she regarded you just 
 as a sick, inspired boy. None of them ever
 
 "HALF DEVIL" 9 
 
 speak of you, now; you ought to know 
 that." 
 
 Ricossia fixed his great eyes on the 
 speaker's face with an impenetrable expres- 
 sion, then shook with silent laughter. 
 
 " We'll talk on some less delicate sub- 
 ject," he said at last with a keen, bright 
 glance at the other man, replete with subtle 
 mockery. " Still," he added, softly, " you'll 
 allow leaving all personalities out of the 
 question that I have a magnetic attrac- 
 tion for all women, good and bad even 
 if I am ostracized from polite society." 
 
 !< I'll allow nothing I don't want to 
 discuss it, I tell you," said Amherst, irri- 
 tably. " There are some things and some 
 people one doesn't care to hear you men- 
 tion, you young Can't you understand 
 that?" 
 
 " Perfectly ! " returned the boy, laughing. 
 His laugh was an uncanny thing, so melo- 
 dious and bell-like as to be startlingly un- 
 masculine. Amherst liked it no better than 
 the rest of him and found it equally at- 
 tractive. 
 
 After all, he mused, his momentary irri- 
 tation, subsiding, our ideas of what a man
 
 io THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 should be were arbitrary. Certainly there 
 was a beauty of disease; a beauty even of 
 corruption, which, while no one cared to 
 imitate, no one, on the other hand, could 
 deny the existence of. Here was a living 
 example; the scapegoat of heredity, laden 
 down with sin, weighted with disease, yet 
 possessed of how many goodly gifts! And 
 all to end in what? The passion of the 
 hot heart, the sweat of the over-active 
 brain all, all for nothing. An evil life 
 and an early grave. Retribution, yes; but 
 retribution, really, for the sins of the dead 
 men whose deeds lived, poisoning the life 
 and rotting the blood in the veins of this, 
 their human puppet. And these dead men, 
 what of them? What of their life, end- 
 lessly self-renewed, unceasingly sinned 
 against until this, the last representative 
 of a name that had once been great, went 
 to fertilize the waiting earth. " About all 
 he is fit for, too," mused Gerald grimly 
 enough, noting the signs plainly written 
 on the face of the boy. Then his mood 
 changed. How pitiful! This beautiful 
 creature, in nature a cross between a satyr 
 and an elfin, in face, nothing short of a
 
 "HALF DEVIL" 11 
 
 god; this "vessel of a more ungainly 
 make" "leaning all awry"; this marion- 
 ette of the scornful gods, dancing gaily 
 enough, to every tune the devil chose to 
 play him; this strange, only half human 
 being of the unbridled will, the untempered 
 desires. And only nineteen! 
 
 The studio showed bright with candle- 
 light and lamp-light. A fire of wood and 
 coal glowed and chattered on the hearth. 
 It was all very quiet, very restful. The 
 boy still lingered among the rich-hued 
 cushions and his face showed an unwonted 
 sense of peace. 
 
 The poetic instincts which an Italian 
 father, an Irish grandmother, had be- 
 queathed to him responded amazingly to 
 this atmosphere of cosy, sinless warmth. 
 He was quite capable of rising to heights 
 of extraordinary mental spirituality at such 
 moments, though quite incapable of apply- 
 ing the first principle of morality to his 
 daily life. 
 
 Gerald Amherst thought, as he had 
 thought many times before, of the strange 
 inequalities of life. Here was he, thirty- 
 four, the possessor of a sound body, a clear
 
 12 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 conscience, a healthy mind and a sufficient 
 income. He reflected on these various ad- 
 vantages with no sense of personal merit, 
 feeling that they had been bequeathed to 
 him as truly as had the old mahogany chest 
 which formed one of the chief ornaments 
 of his room. He had certainly started as 
 well equipped as most to play the great 
 game of life. 
 
 What if he, too, had had this boy's herit- 
 age? He tried, smiling a little, to imagine 
 himself a Ricossia; a doomed, reckless, 
 light-hearted being who chose to spend his 
 few remaining years in hopeless vice. As 
 he thought, a sudden pity for the boy over- 
 took him as it had very often done before, 
 a sudden curiosity as to what really tran- 
 spired behind the black veil which we all 
 hang between our inmost selves and the 
 eyes of our fellow-humans. Did the boy 
 ever feel regret or shame or loathing for 
 himself or reluctance to continue in his vile 
 career? Would he confess to it if he did? 
 Amherst, pressed by a sudden desire to 
 know more of his whimiscal visitant, ques- 
 tioned him, soberly. 
 
 "I say Leo!"
 
 "HALF DEVIL" 13 
 
 "Well, old man?" 
 
 " You've been going it a bit, lately, 
 haven't you? Drinking pretty hard? Drugs, 
 too, of some sort, I fancy. You look pretty 
 seedy." 
 
 The boy started and glanced hastily in 
 a polished, steel mirror which hung near. 
 What he saw evidently re-assured him, for 
 he tossed his black head and smiled, care- 
 lessly. 
 
 " I think I look pretty fit," he said, 
 coolly. " I'd hate to think otherwise. My 
 word! I don't know what I'd do if some 
 fellows show that sort of thing so. Swollen 
 faces, purple round the nose and all that 
 you know? " 
 
 " I know." 
 
 " But I'm not in that class, yet, thank 
 the Lord." 
 
 " Yes, but suppose the Lord went back 
 on you and handed you the red nose and 
 the pimples and all the other ornaments 
 which rightfully belong to you what 
 then?" 
 
 "Then? oh, then, I'd end it very 
 quickly. I can't bear to have an ugly ob- 
 ject in the room with me; do you think
 
 i 4 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 I could bear to be one myself? Chloral's 
 painless." 
 
 " Yes, and cheap. The idea of suicide 
 appeals to you, then?" 
 
 " Not especially," answered the boy, be- 
 ginning to stir, restlessly. '' But one must 
 do something if the worst comes to the 
 worst." 
 
 " I wonder, if you feel like that, that you 
 continue to live. Do you really think your 
 life's worth living?" 
 
 " No," answered Ricossia, calmly. " Do 
 you think yours is?" 
 
 Gerald stopped half-way in an answer, 
 struck by a sudden thought. Was his life 
 worth living? It was a good life as lives 
 go; but if he could exchange it now, to- 
 night, for total oblivion, absolute insurance 
 against future pain, old age, illness, sorrow 
 would he, or would he not? He hesi- 
 tated. 
 
 " I ask you," pursued Ricossia, quietly, 
 " because, just now, as I leaned back here 
 in your comfortable chair with your fire 
 dancing in my eyes and your good drink 
 warming the very cockles of my heart, I 
 thought of you and, for a moment, envied
 
 "HALF DEVIL" 15 
 
 you. Then I thought of your life. Your 
 tiresome routine of work, exercise, whole- 
 some food, good air, sound sleep God! 
 how do you stand it? I'd go mad!" 
 
 "You think your own life preferable?" 
 
 " My life is life of a kind. My cough's 
 a devilish nuisance but I can always pur- 
 chase oblivion with a few cents oblivion! 
 Have you ever known what it is to want 
 sleep? No? I thought not. Wait until 
 you have. Then know what it is to want 
 sleep and to get it; to drop off to slumber, 
 lulled with pleasant thoughts, dreams, fan- 
 cies, and to feel no pain, no bother, nothing 
 but a delicious drowsiness. Of course the 
 waking up is bad but you don't think of 
 that; if you did, I suppose you'd take a 
 bigger dose once for all." 
 
 :< I'm not paid to induce you to commit 
 suicide, but, feeling as you do, I wonder 
 what on earth you live for?" 
 
 " So do I. So do most of us. But of 
 course there is only one answer to that 
 question; namely, that Nature has im- 
 planted in the breast of the tiniest insect 
 that lives and crawls on the face of this 
 globe not only the desire to live but the
 
 16 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 intention to live. It's an instinct. We all 
 have it. Life is a horrible thing, really. 
 This world is an unspeakable place. But 
 none of us wants to leave it all the same. 
 That may be because it is the only life we 
 have or it may be because there's a worse 
 life waiting. But I don't believe that, 
 someway. Though the Creator seems 
 pretty cruel at times I think perhaps old 
 Khayyam did him no injustice. ' He's a 
 good fellow and 'twill all be well.' And 
 now, Amherst, yarning always makes me 
 restless and dry and the night's still young. 
 I'm going to get drunk." 
 
 f< Hold on ! " expostulated Amherst, gen- 
 uinely shocked and startled, he could hardly 
 tell why, at this most unexpected and un- 
 pleasant ending to their talk. " Don't do 
 it, Ricossia. How can you? What what 
 can you expect from the ' Good Fellow ' 
 if you fly in his face, that way? It's dev- 
 ilish, that's what it is. Stay and let me 
 fix you up for the night, you young fool, 
 you!" 
 
 Ricossia laughed. " You're a funny old 
 boy, Amherst," he observed, meditatively. 
 " I wonder what it feels like to have a
 
 "HALF DEVIL" i? 
 
 conscience. I'd rather have a drink a 
 series of drinks ! ' My Clay with long ob- 
 livion has gone dry.' As for the ' Good 
 Fellow ' I haven't seen anything of him, 
 yet. Have you? But the other old Boy 
 is howling to be fed, so I'm off. Good- 
 night."
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 A VISIT TO AGATHA 
 
 " This life of ours is a wild JEolizn harp of many a joyous 
 
 strain 
 But under them all there runs a loud, perpetual wail as of 
 
 souls in pain." Longfellow. 
 
 AGATHA LADILAW had made a 
 pink dress and was embroidering it 
 with roses. Each of us has some 
 particular talent; Agatha's was dressma- 
 king. Her parents were not wealthy and 
 therefore she could not indulge in the 
 " creations " affected by many of her 
 friends; but by dint of constant industry, 
 excellent taste and unusual skill, she con- 
 trived to be always charmingly costumed. 
 True, with a figure that might have stepped 
 out of a Fifth Avenue shop window and 
 a face which any colour rendered lovely, she 
 did not confront the difficulties of ordinary 
 mortals. 
 
 As physical perfection is rare and as 
 
 18
 
 A VISIT TO AGATHA 19 
 
 Agatha Ladilaw was, in her way, an un- 
 usually fine specimen of purely mundane 
 and limited loveliness, a pen picture of her 
 as she sat may be of interest. 
 
 Nature in planning Agatha had done 
 unusually well. She had not only bestowed 
 upon her a great amount of comeliness, but 
 she had, apparently, taken pride in finishing 
 her work in a way that is not common. 
 How often a pretty face is spoilt by an 
 irregular nose, a large ear, an imperfect 
 contour of cheek or brow! In Agatha's 
 case, however, no pains had been spared 
 to produce a thoroughly bewitching whole. 
 While face and form were sufficiently class- 
 ical in outline to satisfy the most exacting, 
 there was a warmth, a colour, a radiance 
 about her, born partly of exuberant youth, 
 partly of brilliant health. Her eyes were 
 wonderful; purple pansies, black-lashed, 
 white-lidded; her hair was a ripe chestnut, 
 deepening to auburn, lightening to gold. 
 Her skin had that pure satin whiteness 
 peculiar to extreme youth; her hands were 
 plump, dimpled, tapering, with pink palms 
 and transparent nails. Her teeth were 
 white, tiny and sharp; when she smiled,
 
 20 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 her pink cheeks broke into enchanting dim- 
 ples which added the last touch of entice- 
 ment to her kitten-like charms. 
 
 Nature had planned her upon classic 
 lines a sort of pocket edition Venus. 
 Agatha, however, after a careful perusal of 
 the fashion plates every spring, moulded 
 her figure in accordance with the latest 
 " craze." When long waists and narrow 
 hips held sway, Agatha presented a fault- 
 lessly correct outline; when the coquettish 
 athlete adorned magazine covers, Agatha 
 might have passed for her sister. How all 
 this was accomplished with no injury to 
 health is a mystery which only the cor- 
 setiere can solve; Agatha at all times 
 might have sat for a picture of Hebe. 
 
 For the rest, she was slightly under me- 
 dium height, a fact which she publicly de- 
 plored, but for which she was secretly 
 grateful. She did not admire tall girls; in 
 fact, she did not admire anybody or any- 
 thing which differed very greatly from her 
 extremely attractive self. She had an in- 
 tense and artistic appreciation of her vari- 
 ous good points and looked with pity on 
 those to whom the fairies had been less
 
 A VISIT TO AGATHA 21 
 
 lavish. One who came in for a share of 
 this ingenuous pity was her cousin, Lynn 
 Thayer. 
 
 This young lady had dropped in at the 
 time the chapter opens, for a cup of tea, 
 in accordance with a long-deferred prom- 
 ise. As she sank into an easy-chair and 
 loosened her furs she smiled at Agatha 
 with a smile which held no tinge of envy. 
 For Lynn, while cherishing in common 
 with many plain women an enthusiastic 
 admiration for beauty, enjoyed it in much 
 the same way that she enjoyed music; in- 
 tensely, even emotionally, but impersonally. 
 Notwithstanding, she attached an exag- 
 gerated importance to it and affected her 
 small cousin more than she otherwise 
 might have done because she possessed 
 it in such unstinted measure. 
 
 As she sat, idly watching Agatha's white 
 fingers moving through the pink draperies 
 of the gown which she was embroidering, 
 the thought of Leo Ricossia occurred to 
 her and she mentally compared them. Both 
 were beautiful to an extraordinary degree; 
 but Agatha's beauty suggested roses, kit- 
 tens, Cupids, everything that was soft and
 
 22 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 appealing, exquisite and empty, while Ri- 
 cossia's beauty suggested storm, flaming 
 sunset, glorious music. His was, in short, 
 the beauty of a young caged tiger, Aga- 
 tha's the loveliness of a very perfect white 
 Persian kitten. Lynn laughed as this sim- 
 ile presented itself to her mind; it seemed 
 to her singularly apropos. What different 
 worlds they inhabited, these two radiant 
 young creatures! Ricossia represented the 
 pagan element, Agatha was the last word 
 of civilized young-ladyship. The world 
 was wide enough to contain both; nay, 
 this little, stately old city was wide enough 
 for that. They lived within an hour's dis- 
 tance of one another, as far asunder in 
 thought, life, knowledge, ideals as is this 
 little earth from " the last star's uttermost 
 distance." 
 
 Lynn Thayer's and Agatha Ladilaw's 
 mothers had been sisters and both had been 
 beauties. Lynn, however, as her maternal 
 relatives were fond of remarking, had 
 " taken after her father." Though her face 
 was pleasing it was rather plain; plain, not 
 ugly; for its plainness consisted rather in 
 lack of positive beauty than in any partic-
 
 A VISIT TO AGATHA 23 
 
 ular defect. Her hair was brown and 
 abundant, her eyes deep-set and giving the 
 effect of brown to the casual observer, al- 
 though, as a matter of fact, they were a 
 dark greyish green. Her skin was colour- 
 less, her mouth, large and thin-lipped, her 
 nose, ordinary. However, her figure was 
 excellent of its kind, tall, straight, flat- 
 backed, and, while delicately proportioned, 
 giving the effect of considerable reserve 
 strength. Her movements, too, were 
 graceful, but graceful somewhat as a 
 young boy's are graceful, alert, easy, noise- 
 less and entirely lacking in effort or self- 
 consciousness. Perhaps her only positive 
 beauty consisted in her teeth which, though 
 not dainty like Agatha's, were white and 
 regular. It would hardly be fair to say 
 that her face lacked expression, but it was 
 not a mobile face; habits of self-control 
 and repression had stamped themselves too 
 deeply in her nature not to show elsewhere. 
 Her bearing was dignified and even dis- 
 tinguished and her voice well-modulated 
 and soft. As a whole, she was the sort of 
 girl whom one might meet any day in any 
 city of the continent; a girl who was no
 
 24 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 longer young, yet showed no signs of age; 
 a girl who could never be pretty, yet would 
 hardly be considered ugly; a girl who wore 
 dark coloured tailor-made costumes and 
 looked like a lady in them; a girl who 
 closely resembled scores of other girls the 
 world over. 
 
 Lynn Thayer occupied a somewhat un- 
 usual position in Montreal. Her mother 
 had been a pretty woman of fashion, her 
 father a well-to-do man. However, her 
 father dying shortly after his marriage and 
 her mother losing all her money in a way 
 which shall be explained elsewhere, Lynn 
 had been left penniless. Her father's only 
 living brother had offered her a home and 
 a dress allowance; but she had refused 
 the latter, had qualified as a public school 
 teacher, and was earning a regular salary 
 in one of the Board Schools. As both her 
 father's and her mother's relatives were 
 people of some wealth and much social 
 standing, she occupied an anomalous posi- 
 tion in what is known as " society." As a 
 young girl she had " gone out " quite a 
 little; now for reasons which shall pres- 
 ently develop, she went only to the homes
 
 A VISIT TO AGATHA 25 
 
 of intimate friends and was seldom seen 
 in public. 
 
 Oddly enough Lynn Thayer possessed a 
 considerable fascination for both sexes. 
 All men and most women liked her. She 
 had never been pretty and was no longer 
 a young girl, but her attraction had rather 
 augmented than diminished as time went 
 by. Debutantes, secure in the possession 
 of unimpeachable gowns and rosy cheeks, 
 often looked with amazement at the alac- 
 rity with which their partners left them 
 for a dance with Miss Thayer. Probably 
 these same partners would have found it 
 difficult to explain why, themselves. Lynn 
 always created the impression that she was- 
 a nice girl; a positive "nice girl," not a 
 negative " nice girl." People liked her. 
 Children " took to her " at once, dogs fol- 
 lowed her; cats jumped on her knee with- 
 out waiting for an invitation. Beyond an 
 admirable figure and a pretty wit she pos- 
 sessed no surface charms; but something 
 about her attracted and inspired confidence 
 and trust. It is difficult to say why one 
 excellent person is universally liked, an- 
 other excellent person universally detested,
 
 26 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 another excellent person universally re- 
 spected and shunned. Lynn Thayer be- 
 longed to the first class, that was all. 
 
 Certainly no two girls could resemble 
 one another less than the cousins. Lynn 
 was at best " a nice-looking girl," Agatha 
 was " a dream." She showed to excellent 
 advantage, too, in her mother's house 
 where everything had been planned with 
 an eye to the petted daughter as the cen- 
 tral figure. 
 
 It was a very pretty sitting-room where 
 Agatha Ladilaw sat, this cold January day. 
 Without, the sharp air cut like a knife; 
 within, all was comfort, warmth, cosiness. 
 It would be difficult to imagine Agatha in 
 anything but elegant and graceful sur- 
 roundings. She was like a lovely, white, 
 Persian kitten who had fed on cream and 
 lain on cushions all her life; and, someway, 
 one always knew that she would continue 
 to feed on cream and lie on silk even if she 
 lost her fur and her teeth in the course of 
 time. If certain natures carry within them- 
 selves the elements of tragedy, others carry 
 within themselves not only the desire for 
 the soft things of life but the capacity for
 
 A VISIT TO AGATHA 27 
 
 obtaining them. To the latter class Aga- 
 tha undoubtedly belonged. Her beautiful 
 aunt, Lynn's mother, had made rather a 
 mess of her life, in spite of the fact that 
 she had had all and more than Agatha pos- 
 sessed in the way of beauty and fascina- 
 tion. One knew instinctively that Agatha 
 would never fall into her mistakes. In the 
 first place she would not wait till twenty- 
 five before marrying; in the second place 
 she would never dislike any man who fed 
 and clothed her sumptuously; in the third 
 place she would never be carried away by 
 any indiscreet and expensive infatuation. 
 In short Agatha was quite the most correct 
 thing in young ladies, eminently satisfac- 
 tory and desirable. 
 
 The room where Agatha liked to sit with 
 embroidery or sewing was long, low, light. 
 The bay-window was filled with plants, and 
 the fragrance of mignonette and jasmine 
 hung about the rose-coloured curtains 
 which draped the alcove and separated it 
 from the rest of the room. The furniture 
 was light and artistic rather than costly; 
 easy chairs upholstered in rose-patterned 
 chintz; mission-wood tables, bookcases
 
 28 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 and " rockers " ; the inevitable " cosy cor- 
 ner," cushioned to the last degree of com- 
 fort; a green carpet displaying a border 
 of various-coloured roses; a silver-laden 
 tea-table, a table containing books and 
 magazines mostly uncut; another con- 
 taining one beautiful vase of cut flowers. 
 Presently, when dusk arrived, the room 
 would be suffused with rose-coloured lamp- 
 light, but, at present, the winter sun flood- 
 ing the room and the tiny fire which 
 burned on the hearth gave a sufficient sug- 
 gestion of cheer. 
 
 Agatha in her pink environment sewing 
 on a pink dress gave one a delightful sense 
 of the eternal fitness of things. One for- 
 got, for the time being, the bitter January 
 wind howling outside, the flock of black 
 cares that dog the footsteps of ordinary 
 mortals. Agatha certainly had her place 
 in the scheme of the universe, just as the 
 Persian kitten has. If the kitten were 
 thrust out into the world and told to 
 earn its cream that would be another 
 story. 
 
 Agatha, as has before been stated, would 
 never have to earn her cream, otherwise
 
 A VISIT TO AGATHA 29 
 
 than by existing and ornamenting. She 
 would always be cheerfully ready to pay 
 for it whenever necessary in the coin with 
 which Nature had so richly endowed her. 
 Therefore it will at once be seen that Aga- 
 tha was a most satisfactory girl; every- 
 thing that a young lady ought to be; just 
 the sort of person who could be depended 
 upon to give Society no shocks and her 
 parents no anxiety. 
 
 Lynn almost wished that Agatha would 
 not think it necessary to talk; the fire-lit, 
 rose-decorated room and the beautiful little 
 occupant who sat, absorbed in her draper- 
 ies, were both so eminently satisfactory 
 from an artistic point of view that she 
 would have preferred to lounge idly, and 
 enjoy them. Everything about Agatha 
 was so attractive, so feminine, in such 
 charming taste. The delicate white fingers 
 moving in and out of the pink draperies; 
 the graceful pose of the pretty figure in 
 the easy chair; the absorbed, almost spir- 
 itual expression of the great, violet eyes; 
 all charmed Lynn, even while she realized 
 their misleadingness and realized, too, that, 
 by breaking into these absorbed medita-
 
 30 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 tions, one was liable to disturb nothing 
 more important than the set of an imagi- 
 nary train. Soon, however, Agatha spoke; 
 slowly and with something resembling an 
 effort. 
 
 " Lynn, what do you think of Harry 
 Shaftan, the General's nephew?" 
 
 " He's a nice boy." 
 
 " Nicer than Howard Pyle or Jimmy 
 Gresham? " 
 
 " I believe I like him better." 
 
 "What do you think of the others?" 
 
 "Why? Are you engaged to any of 
 them?" asked Lynn, laughing. 
 
 "Oh, no! That is I mean to say 
 yes. I mean, I'm engaged to them all." 
 
 Lynn leaned back and gasped. Agatha 
 continued to embroider. 
 
 " And may I ask which one you intend 
 to marry?" 
 
 " I don't know, exactly," confessed Aga- 
 tha, poising her needle on her pink lip and 
 gazing reflectively heavenward. " They're 
 all nice; but I don't think I'll marry any 
 of them." 
 
 "Agatha Ladilaw! What do you 
 mean?"
 
 A VISIT TO AGATHA 31 
 
 " Why, lots of engagements are broken," 
 said Agatha, looking surprised. " Lots and 
 lots of them. If I found that I didn't 
 really love any of these men that the 
 real passion of my life was yet to come 
 you wouldn't advise me to marry them, 
 would you?" She looked at her cousin 
 with an air of virtuous surprise and Lynn 
 shouted. 
 
 " Oh, Agatha, you're a treat ! " she ex- 
 claimed, with intense enjoyment. " A veri- 
 table, living treat!" 
 
 ''' I really don't see why," said Agatha, 
 coldly, proceeding to thread a needle with 
 an offended air. " And if you're going to 
 laugh about serious subjects like love and 
 marriage, why, I won't talk about them, 
 that's all." 
 
 This consummation was far from Lynn's 
 desire; and by dint of earnest and respect- 
 ful entreaties she finally induced her small 
 cousin to continue. 
 
 ' What made you accept them all in the 
 first place?" she asked with interest. 
 
 "Why, they all wanted me," said Aga- 
 tha, simply. "And it's so hard to say no 
 to a nice man. Even if he isn't nice, it's
 
 32 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 not easy. And you said yourself that 
 they " 
 
 "But, Agatha?" 
 
 "Yes?" 
 
 " Doesn't it seem queer to well, to let 
 three men kiss you at the same time?" 
 
 "The idea!" said Agatha, haughtily. 
 " Of course they don't all do it at once. 
 I very seldom see more than one of them 
 in the same evening." 
 
 "Oh, don't be silly, Agatha; you must 
 know what I mean. Doesn't it seem 
 isn't it a little hard to " 
 
 " Why, no," said Agatha, staring, " it's 
 the easiest thing in the world." 
 
 "Dear me! You don't feel at all sneaky 
 or confused about it? " 
 
 "Confused? Why, no. You see, I've 
 always been engaged to two or three peo- 
 ple more or less ever since I was fifteen; 
 of course before that it wasn't really neces- 
 sary." 
 
 " How do you mean?" 
 'Why, to be engaged, you know! one 
 didn't have to be. But after you're fifteen, 
 it seems rather fast, somehow, to let people 
 kiss you that you're not engaged to."
 
 A VISIT TO AGATHA 33 
 
 " I had no idea you were so particular," 
 murmured Lynn, bending down to hide a 
 smile. 
 
 " Oh, I always think a girl can't be too 
 particular about those things," said Aga- 
 tha, firmly. " Because suppose someone 
 happened to see you! All you have to do 
 then is to say, ' To tell you the truth, I'm 
 
 engaged to Mr. ,' whichever one it was. 
 
 And there you are ! " 
 
 "And suppose the same person found 
 you with one of the others what then?" 
 
 " Oh, that would be very unlucky. I 
 don't believe I would ever be so unlucky 
 as that. And, Lynn, now that I have taken 
 you into my confidence and told you 
 things, won't you make a friend of me? 
 and let me give you a little advice?" 
 
 ' Why, yes," said Lynn, smiling. 
 
 " It's about Mr. Lighton. You know he 
 is so eligible and it would be so dreadful 
 if, by any mismanagement, you let him 
 slip through your fingers." 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 ' Yes, indeed; and men are so deceitful," 
 continued Agatha, piously, " you can't tell 
 a thing about them, you really can't. Now
 
 34 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 there was a case I knew; it was something 
 like yours only not so disappointing, for the 
 man had only two thousand a year. But 
 he kept running after this girl, just the way 
 Lighton does after you, and everybody 
 thought he meant something. People kept 
 expecting to hear the engagement an- 
 nounced; but it never came off." 
 
 "What was the trouble?" 
 
 " Why, you know, it was the queerest 
 thing! he kept calling and calling and 
 every time you'd think he was going to 
 propose; but he never did. So the girl 
 got mad. She said she simply wasn't going 
 to stand it a moment longer, so she packed 
 her trunk and went off to stay with some 
 people in Toronto. She was not going to 
 have any such nonsense. But it didn't do 
 any good, for he married some one else." 
 
 "What a sad story!" 
 
 "Isn't it?" agreed Agatha, oblivious of 
 sarcasm. " But she was very lucky, for she 
 met someone who had quite six hundred 
 a year more than the first man had, and 
 he proposed to her quite quickly, and so 
 then of course they were married, and I 
 sent them a centrepiece that I had em-
 
 A VISIT TO AGATHA 35 
 
 broidered, myself. It was a very handsome 
 one but you see Toronto is a nice place to 
 stay in." 
 
 " Oh, I quite see why you sent it. I also 
 see why you told me the story. It has a 
 moral. If the man who is rushing you 
 doesn't propose after a reasonable space 
 of time go to Toronto ! Isn't that the 
 idea?" 
 
 " You are so clever," said Agatha with 
 an apologetic smile, " that sometimes I 
 don't quite understand you. But if you 
 mean that you think that I am advising 
 you to go to Toronto, that isn't right, be- 
 cause any other place would do as well. 
 Except that, of course, there are quite a 
 good many men in Toronto." 
 
 " And you think that one of them might 
 be induced to accept me?" 
 
 'Why not?' ; said Agatha, encourag- 
 ingly. " But, of course, you wouldn't be 
 at all likely to make another match like 
 Mr. Lighton. So that is why I want you 
 to be so particularly careful. You don't 
 take these things seriously enough, Lynn, 
 you know you don't. You must remember 
 that you are getting on."
 
 36 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 " Every year brings me nearer the grave, 
 but no nearer matrimony," commented 
 Lynn, assuming an appropriately funereal 
 aspect. 
 
 "Oh, don't say that!" cried Agatha, 
 looking genuinely shocked. "Please don't! 
 It sounds so dreadfully as if it might 
 be And I am sure Mr. Lighten is 
 most attentive and Mr. Amherst and two 
 or three others call pretty often, don't 
 they?" 
 
 " Yet," said her cousin, solemnly, " I 
 think myself, Agatha, that there is just one 
 little thing which is going to effectually 
 prevent Mr. Lighten from marrying me. 
 You mark my words! as sure as I stand 
 here just so surely will I never be Mrs. 
 Lighten. This one little obstacle is going 
 to stand in the way." 
 
 ' Why, what can it be? " queried Agatha, 
 with intense interest. 
 
 "You have no idea?" 
 
 " Why, no." 
 
 " I thought that you wouldn't have," re- 
 turned Lynn, very gravely. 
 
 " It won't prevent him from proposing, 
 willit?"
 
 A VISIT TO AGATHA 37 
 
 " Not a bit of it. It will only prevent 
 him from marrying that is, from marry- 
 ing me." 
 
 " Oh, how dreadful ! " cried Agatha in 
 genuine distress. " And to think of all the 
 men you have refused, Lynn! and I sup- 
 pose that there isn't one you could get 
 back at a pinch." 
 
 " I fear not. The majority are either 
 dead or married and the Grave and the 
 Other Woman do not disburse." 
 
 " No, indeed," sighed her mentor. " And 
 it's so necessary for you to marry, Lynn, 
 for if Uncle Horace died to-morrow he 
 would leave Aunt Lucy everything and 
 there would be nothing left for you. Oh, 
 what a pity that your mother's money was 
 all spent." 
 
 ' Yes, it seems a little unfortunate." 
 
 "That dreadful Italian! What a pity 
 Aunt Clara married him after your father 
 died. And didn't they have a son? What 
 has become of him?" 
 
 " My dear Agatha, how should I know? " 
 said Lynn, restlessly. " Don't you remem- 
 ber that, when Uncle Horace adopted me, 
 he did it with the distinct understanding
 
 38 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 that I was to hold no communication with 
 my mother and my little half-brother?" 
 
 "Oh, how dreadful! How could you 
 bear to be parted from your own dear 
 mother for ever? " 
 
 Lynn surveyed the questioner with a 
 slight smile. 
 
 " Oh, I enjoyed the feeling- that I 
 brought in six hundred a year. I knew 
 that it would procure my mother more 
 pleasure than my society could, and that, 
 with six hundred a year, her baby boy, and 
 an occasional kiss from the biggest black- 
 guard the Lord ever let loose on earth, she 
 would be as happy as she could ever be. 
 Poor mother! she was pretty, they say, 
 even when she lay dead; her beauty didn't 
 do her much good, but, on the other hand, 
 my ugliness hasn't profited me, greatly. 
 On the whole, I wish I looked like her." 
 
 " Aunt Clara was so awfully pretty and 
 that Italian she married was so wonder- 
 fully handsome! the boy must have been 
 a perfect little beauty." 
 
 " He was." Lynn spoke without enthu- 
 
 siasm. 
 tt 
 
 Weren't you fond of him?
 
 A VISIT TO AGATHA 39 
 
 " Very." 
 
 "Wouldn't you like to see him, again?" 
 
 "No yes" 
 
 " I don't believe you cared much about 
 him, really." 
 
 Lynn looked at her and smiled. 
 
 " I was nine when he was born. My own 
 father had died when I was a baby and 
 my earliest recollections are those of see- 
 ing my mother crying half the day because 
 my stepfather was out and laughing and 
 chatting wildly because he was in. She 
 never noticed me. I was an ugly little 
 thing and she worshipped beauty as I 
 do. Besides, there are certain people who 
 seem to suck the lifeblood of all who care 
 for them, and my stepfather was of these; 
 her love for him was a feverish thing, a 
 thing that absorbed and tortured and 
 finally killed her. Such is the perfect jus- 
 tice of the universe! no good man or 
 woman ever receives that idolatrous love; 
 it is only the vile, the utterly selfish, the 
 heartlessly cruel oh, here ! what am I 
 saying? To return to my story; I had a 
 nurse till we grew too poor, then I looked 
 after myself. Then . . . the baby came.
 
 40 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 The baby! Oh, Agatha, if you had seen 
 him! He was so beautiful, so utterly dear 
 and heavenly, and no one had ever cared 
 for me, and he the very first time I saw 
 him he put out his tiny hand and the little 
 fingers twined about mine . . . oh, my 
 baby, my baby, how could I ever love any- 
 thing in earth or heaven as I loved you? 
 Well! for three years I was always with 
 him and then and then Uncle Horace 
 wanted to adopt me, to rescue me, as he 
 called it. And I went. I was twelve 
 years old at the time in years and I 
 realized, in the bitterest moment of my life, 
 that to go meant money and comfort and 
 pleasure for him my idol ! All I could 
 do for him was to leave him I saw it 
 plainly and I went without a word. I 
 went. I wonder if any misery in after life 
 can ever compare with the agony of that 
 last hour when I sat, holding him in my 
 arms and rocking him to and fro and 
 waiting. The carriage came at last to 
 take me to the station and I kissed the 
 wonderful little face and looked into the 
 marvellous baby eyes and went! Oh, my 
 baby, my baby, if I ever have a child of
 
 A VISIT TO AGATHA 41 
 
 my own, will he, can he, ever be to me 
 what you were, I wonder ! dear me, what 
 a lot of nonsense I'm talking, Agatha! 
 You mustn't mind." 
 
 " Not at all," said Agatha, politely, " it's 
 interesting. I had no idea that you were 
 so fond of babies, Lynn. But it seems so 
 queer that you don't know where he is, 
 now. What became of him when your 
 mother died? He was about ten, wasn't 
 he? for I remember you were nineteen." 
 
 ' Yes, he was ten. Oh, he lived at school 
 and then with his father till the latter died 
 of consumption. That was two years ago." 
 
 "And now?" 
 
 " Why, now he is probably living 
 somewhere else. He is a man, you see, and 
 able to take care of himself." 
 
 " But, oh, Lynn dear, you show so little 
 feeling," said Agatha, with dainty reproach. 
 " Not to care what has become of that boy 
 when you used to be so fond of him." 
 
 " Oh, we forget everybody and every- 
 thing in time," returned Lynn, listlessly. 
 " At least," she added in a lower voice, " I 
 hope we do." 
 
 "Yes, I suppose so," said Agatha, com-
 
 42 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 fortably. " Lynn, did you ever see any- 
 thing so sweet as that last rosebud I've 
 just made? And it's given me such a 
 lovely idea. The very next fancy dress ball 
 I'm asked to, I'll go as the Queen of the 
 Roses. Don't you think that will be 
 lovely? Pale pink, you know, with gar- 
 lands of rosebuds and a rose-wreath. Ring 
 for tea, won't you, please? I'm dying for 
 a cup, and it's getting too dark to work."
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 "FORSAKEN GUTS AND CREEKS" 
 
 "If we have loved but well 
 Under the sun, 
 Let the last morrow tell 
 What we have done." 
 
 Bliss Carman. 
 
 ON an exceptionally disreputable 
 Montreal street stood a particu- 
 larly unsavoury old studio building. 
 Like other unsavoury things it had an in- 
 teresting history, having, in its palmy days, 
 belonged to an English duke. The duke 
 was now dust and the studio building un- 
 popular with the constabulary. Yet an air 
 of former greatness enveloped it and its 
 large, spacious halls and lofty ceilings bore 
 mute and pathetic testimony to the gran- 
 deur of former days. 
 
 In an apartment which a duchess had 
 once inhabited rats and spiders revelled, un- 
 rebuked, save when, once a week, a wild- 
 eyed slattern clattered noisily in and at- 
 
 43
 
 44 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 tacked them with broom and scrubbing- 
 brush. Sometimes the heavy old-fashioned 
 door was locked and she went away re- 
 joicing; sometimes it was merely closed, 
 in which case she entered fearlessly and 
 performed her tasks as expeditiously and 
 abominably as possible. Frequently, dur- 
 ing these revels, the lithe form of Mr. Ri- 
 cossia might have been discerned, stretched 
 upon the studio couch in deep and peaceful 
 slumber. Even the prosaic and work-har- 
 rowed drudge of the Chatham was wont 
 to pause occasionally and gaze with some- 
 thing approaching awe at the frail form 
 and beautiful face of the opium-drugged 
 consumptive. A spiritual majesty lay on 
 his brow and his whole being seemed ex- 
 pressive of an unearthly peace and a som- 
 bre loveliness. Like some dark, fallen star 
 he lay quiescent in the dim light of the 
 studio; a thing to make one's heart ache 
 when one reflected that he, too, was born 
 of a human mother. 
 
 Mr. Ricossia's movements were uncer- 
 tain, however; and one fine January eve- 
 ning found him sitting at the studio table, 
 smoking and scribbling, busily. Presently
 
 "FORSAKEN CREEKS" 45 
 
 the door opened; he looked up, pleasantly, 
 showing no surprise, and bent over his 
 writing. 
 
 " Just a minute ! " he said, in a low voice. 
 
 The visitor nodded, closed the door 
 quietly, and stood as though waiting. 
 Presently she raised a thick veil and fixed 
 her eyes intently on the writer. They were 
 sombre eyes, not over large but somewhat 
 expressive; and as she watched the other 
 occupant of the studio, they dilated and 
 glowed in a way that was almost fierce and 
 wholly human. So might a fire-tortured 
 martyr have regarded in death the symbol 
 of his faith, the cross for which he died. 
 
 Presently the woman spoke. 
 
 " I can only stay a few minutes, my dar- 
 ling," she said in a low voice, vibrating 
 with painful tenderness. " There is the 
 money." 
 
 The boy sprang to his feet and grasped 
 it, his dark eyes aflame with eagerness. 
 Hastily, greedily, he counted it over, then 
 put it in his pocket and turned to the 
 woman with a brilliant smile. 
 
 ' That is fine," he said, his flute-like 
 voice making melody in the studio and in
 
 46 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 his hearer's heart. " You must have done 
 well, lately. How much have you sold 
 altogether?" 
 
 " A long story to the ' Alhambra,' a funny 
 skit to the ' Woman's Hearth ' and an article 
 or two to some smaller concerns. Try to 
 make it last, for I had to spend nearly all 
 my month's salary oh, Liol, Liol!" 
 
 A burst of coughing interrupted her and 
 turned her wind-flushed face white. She 
 stood in silence, knowing that nothing in- 
 furiated the dying boy like sympathy, and 
 held her breath, waiting for the paroxysm 
 to pass. So long did it last, however, that 
 she forgot all caution and, rushing to the 
 sick man's side, caught his hand and 
 screamed aloud. 
 
 " Oh, Liol, Liol, do you want to kill me? 
 Won't you go to that retreat? and try to 
 live for my sake? Oh try, only try! I 
 can't bear it! I thought I could, but I 
 can't. Oh, for God's sake, go! try it, only 
 try it for a little while " 
 
 He snatched his hand away and flung 
 himself on the couch, shaking with weak- 
 ness and fury. 
 
 "Again?" he cried, raging. "You ask
 
 "FORSAKEN CREEKS" 47 
 
 me again to go to one of those vile cures? 
 after all I've said and sworn? God in 
 Heaven! how often must I tell you that, 
 if I've only a few months to live, I'm going 
 to live! not die by inches. Fool that you 
 are!" 
 
 She covered her face with her hands and 
 turned away from him. 
 
 " Go to those beastly mountains," he 
 snarled, venomously. " Go where all that 
 makes life worth living will be out of reach 
 and I dogged by a pack of vile, prying 
 doctors and attendants! If you're tired 
 of keeping me I'll take an extra dose and 
 end it to-night! " 
 
 "Liolf" 
 
 ' Then don't madden me ! Here ! you 
 said you couldn't stay long, didn't you? 
 My last poems are on the table. Send a 
 couple more to ' Hosmer's Monthly ' they 
 asked for them God! is this another fit 
 coming on? ... There! I feel better. It 
 passes sometimes and I daresay I'll outlive 
 you all, yet." His face brightened and 
 became luminous with hope and defiance. 
 The terrible paroxysm of coughing had 
 flooded his dusky cheeks with rose; his
 
 48 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 black hair curled limply back from his 
 damp forehead; his magnificent eyes ex- 
 panded and fired with the consumptive's 
 cheating illusion of future health. Beside 
 his glowing, burning beauty Lynn Thayer 
 seemed one of those daughters of earth 
 who, in former ages, loved the sons of God. 
 She devoured him with her eyes in a silence 
 so tense and sorrow-laden that the very air 
 seemed to vibrate with it. 
 
 " Ah God, how I love you," she said at 
 last, hopelessly. " And you oh, Liol, 
 Liol, you never even kissed me, to-night." 
 
 "What? Never even kissed you?" 
 answered the other, good-humouredly. 
 " Well, but, my dear old girl, you must 
 remember that the fool doctors say that 
 consumption's catching. They're right, 
 too; I caught it from my father, curse 
 him! I wouldn't be where I am to-day 
 if it wasn't for him." His face darkened, 
 moodily; then he shrugged his shoulders 
 and held out his arms with a smile that 
 was more mirthful than tender. 
 
 Lynn Thayer walked swiftly to the 
 couch, dropped on her knees beside it and 
 buried her face in the frail shoulder of its
 
 "FORSAKEN CREEKS" 49 
 
 occupant. She remained thus for a few 
 minutes while he wound thin arms about 
 her and murmured endearments which held 
 a perfunctory note even to her love-deaf- 
 ened ears. Presently she rose. 
 
 " Leo Ricossia is making quite a name 
 by his prose writing," she said with forced 
 cheerfulness. " I must try to keep it up, 
 Liol. Do you remember when I called you 
 ' Liol ' once, before some people and they 
 thought it so funny and we were so wor- 
 ried about it? Yet you see no one has ever 
 suspected anything." 
 
 " No. If they did, I suppose it would 
 have to come out," said the boy, slowly. 
 
 "What?" 
 
 Lynn started and looked confounded. 
 
 "What?" she cried. "Break my word 
 to my dead mother? Tell who you are? 
 how she made me promise to keep you 
 and watch over you until you died and let 
 no one know who you were ? - What are 
 you dreaming of, Liol?" 
 
 ' Why, it's nothing to me," returned the 
 other, watching her composedly. " Girls 
 must go into heroics over something, I sup- 
 pose; but you must see for yourself that
 
 50 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 all this would look pretty badly if it came 
 out and wasn't explained, and it would 
 hardly be worth while to lose your reputa- 
 tion and your home and your position too, 
 for an oath to a dead woman. Too bad 
 you have to come here by night, but, of 
 course, day-time is impossible, for people 
 would be sure to see you, whereas the 
 chances are ten to one against it in the 
 dark and dressed as you are. That absurd 
 oath! What was it now? And she was 
 going to come back and curse you, too, if 
 you broke it, wasn't she?" He laughed. 
 
 "Our mother, Liol!" said Lynn, in a 
 choked voice. 
 
 ' Yes, our mother. I've almost forgot- 
 ten what she looked like even, but I sup- 
 pose you remember her better than I do, 
 though I don't see why you should, con- 
 sidering the length of time that you were 
 away from her and see here, Lynn, 
 you've been here an ungodly time; I don't 
 want to hurry you, but oh, I say ! Am- 
 herst is puzzling his brains out as to how 
 I can write such healthy, humourous prose. 
 You would have shouted if you had heard 
 him, the other night."
 
 "FORSAKEN CREEKS" 51 
 
 " Perhaps. But I must go, directly." 
 
 Lynn shivered and drew her fur a little 
 more closely about her throat. 
 
 " I must go now, Liol," she repeated in a 
 low voice. " Good-bye. And don't but 
 there! what's the use of talking? Do as 
 you please, dear; only try to love me a 
 little if you can. You're all I've got." 
 
 "Mighty little at that, too! You have 
 but little here below nor will you have that 
 little long there, don't look like that, old 
 girl! I'm only joking, you know." 
 
 With this joke ringing in her ears Lynn 
 left; passed down the rickety stairs, 
 through the dark doorway, out upon the 
 noisy street. It was not a savoury neigh- 
 bourhood this, where her brother had 
 elected to take up his abode. In fact, it 
 was not a place for a lady at any hour of 
 the day or night. In face of an overpower- 
 ing compulsion, however, a woman some- 
 times forgets that she is a lady, and this was 
 what had happened in Lynn's case. The 
 love which, in the majority of instances, is 
 divided among parents, brothers, sisters, 
 husband, children, had been concentrated 
 upon one object. A foolish vow exacted
 
 52 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 by a delirious and dying woman had be- 
 come the important thing in Lynn Thayer's 
 life, the keeping of it a sacred duty. 
 
 We are usually punished both for our 
 follies and our virtues, and Lynn was cer- 
 tainly severely punished for hers. Ricos- 
 sia, as he was called, in Montreal, kept her 
 on a constant rack of uncertainty and sus- 
 pense. Daily, hourly, she expected to hear 
 of his death and, sometimes, in moments 
 of more than usual bitterness and grief, 
 she almost wished that he were safe in the 
 grave and incapable of doing himself or 
 her more harm. The unworthiness of the 
 loved object, moreover, made life propor- 
 tionately bitter; the necessity for constant 
 deceit and stealth was a cruel necessity to 
 one of her nature, and the witty tales which 
 helped to procure her brother the luxuries 
 he craved were frequently written in an- 
 guish of heart and despair of spirit. Poor 
 Punchinello, dancing gaily on the night his 
 love died and his heart was broken, has 
 many a modern prototype. 
 
 Yet through all the disgust and grief 
 which his nature and actions caused her, 
 her love never faltered. To her, the drink-
 
 "FORSAKEN CREEKS" 53 
 
 ing, drug-crazed youth in whose degenerate 
 nature there was not a trace of anything 
 high or kind was the baby brother of early 
 days; the baby brother whom she had 
 tended, adored, sacrificed and been sacri- 
 ficed for during the most impressionable 
 years of her life. The tiny creature had 
 crept into the lonely heart of the child, sat- 
 isfying every want, sweetening every bit- 
 terness. There had been nothing else in 
 Lynn's life that had held comparison with 
 this.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 A BRILLIANT MATCH 
 
 " Love is a pastime for one's youth ; marriage, a provision 
 for one's old age." Ellen Thorneycroft Fowler. 
 
 " For life is not the thing we thought and not the thing we 
 
 plan, 
 
 And woman, in a bitter world, must do the best she can." 
 
 Robert Service. 
 
 IN order that the reader may more fully 
 understand the foregoing chapters and 
 the predicament in which certain of the 
 characters find themselves, it is necessary 
 to ask him to return with us to a period 
 some thirty years before, when a certain 
 young lady, known as Clara Brooks, had 
 just made a most sensible match. 
 
 Now, as this was the first sensible thing 
 that Miss Brooks had ever been known to 
 do, it naturally attracted some attention 
 and created some discussion. For she was 
 one of those impossible beings who want 
 to be happy and who, instead of viewing 
 happiness in the light of a series of dis- 
 
 54
 
 A BRILLIANT MATCH 55 
 
 qreetly conducted flirtations, ending in 
 marriage with the most eligible of the flir- 
 tees, had persisted in prolonging these flir- 
 tations to a really indiscreet period of time 
 and had even carried her folly so far as 
 to refuse two or three really desirable of- 
 fers. She had a vague yet fairly positive 
 idea that marriage, in order to be at all 
 happy or satisfactory, must be based on 
 mutual love and esteem, and, because of 
 this antiquated and most unfortunate no- 
 tion, she had remained unmarried until the 
 age of twenty-five. 
 
 This attitude of Clara's laid her open to 
 much well-deserved censure. There were 
 two opinions about it; the first being 
 that she had no common sense, whatever; 
 the second being that she was unfortu- 
 nately romantic and fanciful, yet somewhat 
 to be commended in that her ideals were 
 of a slightly higher order than those of 
 the average girl. There was not much 
 truth in either of these views. Clara 
 Brooks, like most of the rest of the world, 
 was supremely selfish, though not unpleas- 
 antly so. She loved love; she also loved 
 money; she wanted to be happy, whatever
 
 56 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 the price she paid for happiness; and she 
 did not care to do anything that she 
 thought likely to militate against her hap- 
 piness. That was all. 
 
 It seemed very hard to Clara, who pos- 
 sessed beauty of quite an unusual order, 
 a wheedling tongue, and a pretty taste in 
 dress, that she could not marry both for 
 love and money. She would have pre- 
 ferred to marry for love, however, if she 
 had been obliged to make a choice. This 
 was partly because she had never known 
 poverty and could not compute its discom- 
 forts with any degree of accuracy; but, 
 also, because she was one of those women 
 who are capable of an overpowering infat- 
 uation and who are, therefore, instinctively 
 on the watch for a possible object which 
 may awaken it. The object had not ap- 
 peared ; Clara was twenty-five, and twenty- 
 five, at the period of which I write, was 
 not the twenty-five of to-day. Only people 
 of unusual fascination and prettiness, such 
 as Miss Brooks, dared to be unmarried at 
 twenty-five. Already her enemies were be- 
 ginning to brand her with the awful stigma 
 of " old maid," already her friends were
 
 A BRILLIANT MATCH 57 
 
 beginning to murmur plaintively, " What 
 can she be thinking about?" 
 
 Clara's thoughts ended in a very usual 
 fashion. As Prince Charming had not ar- 
 rived; as the time was fast approaching 
 when she would be relegated to the dread- 
 ful social lumber room where all such dere- 
 licts of love were stowed by grieving rela- 
 tives in the "good old days"; as enemies 
 were, as has before been said, beginning to 
 murmur " old maid " behind her back, and 
 friends, "silly girl" to her face; for all 
 these reasons and for fifty others, Clara 
 Brooks suddenly made up her mind to ac- 
 cept a well-to-do and silent man, by name 
 Lowden Thayer, who for some time past 
 had been obviously attracted by her un- 
 doubted charms. Now the sky brightened 
 for Clara. She, as a bride-to-be, received 
 many handsome wedding presents, a num- 
 ber of compliments on her most unexpected 
 good sense, and a vast amount of eminently 
 imbecile advice from well-meaning igno- 
 ramuses of both sexes. 
 
 The wedding was a fine one; all Clara's 
 relatives were pleased to know that she was 
 settled and would be provided for until the
 
 58 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 day of her death no matter how ugly or 
 unpleasant or incapable she became with 
 age; and all Lowden Thayer's relatives 
 were pleased to think that he had married 
 at all, though the majority of them felt that 
 he had made a most unsuitable choice. 
 Wherein they were undoubtedly right. 
 
 After the honeymoon, the Thayers took 
 up their abode in a handsome house in a 
 fashionable quarter of Montreal; the gen- 
 tleman went to business every day and the 
 lady began to receive and return calls from 
 the elite of what is known as " society." 
 
 She had many calls of all kinds to return, 
 for she had fulfilled the whole duty of civ- 
 ilized woman; she had married, and mar- 
 ried well. Within a year she further ab- 
 solved herself of blame by bringing into 
 the world a little, helpless infant, bald and 
 thin and red-faced, who howled most ob- 
 jectionably and seemed as indignant at 
 having existence thus forced upon it as 
 though it knew what existence really was. 
 Probably it was no prophetic instinct but 
 some more prosaic ailment that led Clara's 
 infant daughter to make night hideous with 
 her cries. Be that as it may, its mother
 
 A BRILLIANT MATCH 59 
 
 conceived something that almost amounted 
 to dislike for the ugly little voyager upon 
 the sea of life for whose existence she was 
 responsible. She loved men and boys; why 
 then should she give birth to a daughter? 
 She loved beauty; why should her first- 
 born be devoid even of hair? Besides . . . 
 the baby resembled its father; the "good 
 match " which Fate had compelled her to 
 make, much against her wishes; the de- 
 tested crumple in her bed of roses; the 
 hated benefactor to whose unwise fancy 
 she was indebted for board and clothing, 
 place in society and honourable title of 
 " married woman " ; the loathed necessity 
 which spoilt everything even her child 
 for her. 
 
 This much, however, must be said for 
 Clara Thayer; though the child meant less 
 than nothing to her, she did not neglect 
 it on that account. She may have been an 
 unnatural mother, but she was not a soul- 
 less brute, and she therefore attended care- 
 fully to its wants and saw that it lacked 
 for nothing that she could give it. What 
 she could not give it, it necessarily went 
 without; but she did her duty so far as she
 
 6o THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 was able and was unexpectedly and munifi- 
 cently rewarded. For when her little girl 
 was three years of age its father died, leav- 
 ing her a wealthy and beautiful widow. 
 
 Now when Fortune is too kind to us 
 Fate sometimes plays a grim joke, in order 
 to level us with the vast mass of toiling, 
 yearning, disappointed, suffering fellow- 
 humans. This is what Fate did with Clara 
 Thayer. 
 
 She was young, rich, beautiful, able to 
 marry whom she pleased and live as she 
 liked without let or hindrance. Fate had 
 given her good coin with which to purchase 
 anything her vagrant fancy might light 
 upon. She might have chosen whom she 
 would. Therefore she chose an extremely 
 good-looking scoundrel whose Irish mother 
 and Italian father had bequeathed to him, 
 together with the light-hearted fascina- 
 tions of their kindred natures, the sum total 
 of every vice of which both lands are ca- 
 pable. The sweet kindness of heart and 
 warm devotion to cause and kindred which 
 characterize the Italian and Irish races lay 
 in the softness of his dark eyes, the velvet 
 smoothness of his voice, but were quite
 
 A BRILLIANT MATCH 61 
 
 absent from his nature. This Clara Thayer 
 did not know; and, had she known, it is 
 more than probable that she would not 
 have cared. For the first time in her life 
 she was in the grip of a perfectly irrational 
 fascination, an infatuation which drove her 
 as a whirlwind might drive wheat. The 
 infatuation ended, moreover, only when her 
 life did. 
 
 This was, perhaps, a natural ending to 
 Clara Thayer's career. It was natural, too, 
 that people should refer to her as that poor 
 girl who made " such a sensible first 
 match " and " such an idiotic second one." 
 As a matter of fact it would be difficult to 
 determine which of Clara's two marriages 
 was the more idiotic. Her first was for 
 money, her second, for love. Her first sup- 
 plied her with good food, pretty clothes 
 and unlimited boredom. Her second gave 
 her sharp rapture and equally poignant 
 pain. Possibly, if she had remained un- 
 married she might have encountered worse 
 things than any of these. Of the three 
 wishes which the bad fairy, Life, gives the 
 average woman it is difficult to say which 
 is the least fraught with unhappiness.
 
 62 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 " Woman in a bitter world must do the 
 best she can/' Clara Brooks did the best 
 she could and bad was the best. 
 
 However she died at forty-five, and many 
 women live to be old.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 "BLIND FOOLS OF FATE" 
 
 " Blind fools of fate and slaves of circumstance, 
 Life is a fiddler and we all must dance." 
 
 Robert Service. 
 
 WHEN Clara Thayer gave birth 
 to a daughter she was, as has 
 been before stated, disappointed. 
 When that daughter developed the appear- 
 ance and characteristics of its father Clara 
 began to dislike it. In vain she reasoned 
 with herself, in vain upbraided herself, se- 
 cretly and severely, in vain called herself 
 " an unnatural mother." The sad fact re- 
 mained that she did not care for the child. 
 It had no pretty ways, no graceful tricks; 
 its eyes were dull, its skin was pale, its hair 
 ordinary. If it had resembled her she 
 would have loved it; if it had resembled 
 her mother, her father, anyone for whom 
 she cared, she would have idolized it. It 
 
 63
 
 64 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 resembled no one, however, but her hus- 
 band, and, although when Clara had mar- 
 ried Lowden Thayer she had been su- 
 premely indifferent to him, that indiffer- 
 ence had, unfortunately, deepened into a 
 positively appalling dislike. Not dislike for 
 his character which she respected; not dis- 
 like for his attitude toward her which left 
 nothing to be desired; no, dislike for the 
 man, himself, dislike for his personality, his 
 manners, his way of entering a room, his 
 way of brushing his hair, his way of walk- 
 ing, talking, breathing. 
 
 It is easy here for the reader to throw 
 down this veracious account of a real 
 woman with the single comment that she 
 was unreasonable and ungrateful. It is 
 true that she was unreasonable but not 
 that she was ungrateful. She knew all that 
 she owed to her husband, she sometimes 
 hated herself for her lack of feeling, and 
 she strove earnestly to hide her dislike and 
 to do her duty in a way befitting a wife 
 and mother. It was a bitter addition to 
 what seemed to her an already difficult life 
 when the child, to whose advent she had 
 looked with so much hope and longing,
 
 "BLIND FOOLS OF FATE" 65 
 
 turned out the counterpart of her husband. 
 Instead of a distraction it was a perpetual 
 reminder of the galling chain; instead of 
 a delight it represented merely another dis- 
 agreeable duty. 
 
 Clara was generally considered a model 
 wife and mother; every domestic obliga- 
 tion was scrupulously performed, every 
 connubial and matronly demand upon her 
 time, health and patience, uncomplainingly 
 complied with. When Mr. Thayer died, 
 however, four years after their marriage, 
 Clara felt only an unspeakable relief; and 
 when, nine years later, Mr. Thayer's 
 brother offered to adopt Lynn, on condi- 
 tion that her mother gave her up, entirely, 
 Clara felt only that a burden had been 
 lifted from her shoulders. 
 
 She had one child by her second husband 
 after she had been married to him five 
 years, and that child was a boy who 
 combined his father's picturesque, foreign 
 beauty with his mother's refinement and 
 grace. To him, she was an adoring 
 mother; he was second in her heart only 
 to Guido Allardi. Just as Lynn had been 
 the image of the man whom Clara had
 
 66 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 disliked, so Lionel was the image of the 
 man whom she worshipped. There was no 
 wish or choice in the matter; she always 
 felt sorry that she could not care for Lynn, 
 and she sometimes wished, in moments of 
 bitterness, that Lionel did not resemble his 
 father so closely. It was a rare retribu- 
 tion of Fate, this! the unloved child of 
 the unloved father who was all that a 
 mother could wish and the idolized child 
 of the idolized father who inherited from 
 him every trait that could break a mother's 
 heart. If Lowden Thayer could have 
 looked into the future he would have been 
 amply revenged. It is improbable, how- 
 ever, that he wanted revenge; he wanted 
 his wife's love and, failing that, he wanted 
 rest. He never had the first but we may 
 reasonably hope that he had the latter. 
 
 " Love's eyes are very blind," but they 
 are never so blind as not to perceive dislike 
 on the part of the loved object, however 
 conscientiously that dislike may be hidden. 
 Lowden Thayer was a just man; he saw 
 that his wife did her best and he, on his 
 part, did his best, hid his sorrow manfully, 
 and, when he died, willed Clara all his prop-
 
 "BLIND FOOLS OF FATE" 67 
 
 erty, unhampered by any galling restric- 
 tions. 
 
 The little daughter whom he left behind 
 developed in a rather interesting fashion. 
 
 The widely diverse natures of Lowden 
 Thayer and his wife mingled oddly in her. 
 She had her father's face but her mother's 
 pliant, graceful figure and movements. She 
 inherited from her father a useful brain, 
 capable of assimilating considerable knowl- 
 edge and of reasoning accurately and care- 
 fully; but she had her mother's brilliancy 
 and lively wit. She had her father's in- 
 dustry, business ability, and sense of justice, 
 and her mother's love of popularity and 
 social gayety. From both she inherited 
 one thing in overwhelming measure; the 
 capacity for any amount of silent, tena- 
 cious affection which no ill-treatment could 
 shake, no disillusionment alter. Another 
 thing, too, she had from both; the ability 
 to suffer in silence, keeping a cool and care- 
 less front to the world and hiding a bleed- 
 ing heart and a broken spirit behind a 
 smiling face and manner. Lynn was thus, 
 in many ways, not so unlike her mother as 
 that mother supposed.
 
 68 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 At the time when Lynn was adopted by 
 her uncle Horace she was twelve years of 
 age. The next seven years were very busy 
 ones. Child though she was, she felt keenly 
 the fact that her uncle had taken her into 
 his home in fulfilment of a sense of duty, 
 rather than from motives of affection. She 
 determined that she would be indebted to 
 him for nothing more than was absolutely 
 necessary. In pursuance of this idea she 
 begged to be allowed to train for a teacher 
 and, on graduating, insisted on taking a 
 position which offered itself. Her uncle 
 made little objection; he cherished the 
 common masculine delusion that women 
 who live at home have nothing to do with 
 their time and he thought it rather a good 
 idea that some of this time should be occu- 
 pied. The idea of his niece being a public 
 school teacher did not exactly appeal to his 
 sense of the fitness of things; but, after 
 all, since the girl was bent on it, " let her 
 do as she likes " was his ultimatum. There- 
 fore Lynn did as she liked; and events 
 which shortly afterwards transpired made 
 her think with horror of the fact that, had 
 she followed her aunt's wishes, she would
 
 "BLIND FOOLS OF FATE" 69 
 
 have been without any money that she 
 could call her own. 
 
 It was when she was nineteen that she 
 received a letter in an unknown hand- 
 writing. Its contents were brief and preg- 
 nant. Her mother was dying; would Lynn 
 visit her in New York before she died? 
 as there was much that she had to say. 
 The letter ended with an injunction to hide 
 the matter from her uncle and aunt, who 
 would never allow her to travel alone, and 
 would insist on accompanying her, which 
 her mother did not wish. 
 
 It would be difficult to describe the effect 
 which this letter had upon Lynn. She had 
 always known that she held no place in 
 her mother's heart, and that knowledge was 
 a settled grief, not an active sorrow. The 
 letter gave her a dull pain, almost like the 
 pain which one would experience, could the 
 corpse of a dead friend whom one had 
 mourned, then almost though not quite 
 forgotten, suddenly come to life and de- 
 mand recognition. 
 
 Lynn had held no communication with 
 her mother since she had lived with her 
 uncle in Montreal. To her literal and very
 
 70 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 punctilious mind the fact that this corre- 
 spondence was debarred as a condition of 
 adoption rendered it out of the question. 
 Besides, it must be remembered that there 
 had been no tender, anguished parting of 
 mother and child; Clara had, as always, 
 behaved prettily and politely, had kissed 
 the plain little face, distorted with difficult 
 feeling, and had inwardly congratulated 
 herself that this child of Lowden Thayer 
 had inherited his silent, unemotional na- 
 ture. Otherwise she would have felt more 
 hesitation about sending her among stran- 
 gers. As it was the child was a good 
 child, who could be depended upon to give 
 little or no trouble to her guardians, and 
 she had so little feeling that one place was 
 likely to be much like another place to her. 
 True, Clara reflected with a slight qualm, 
 true, the child was devoted to her little 
 brother; but children soon forget. It 
 would be a criminal sentimentality and one 
 for which the girl would have a right to 
 reproach her in the future, did she neglect 
 this excellent chance of having her pro- 
 vided for. So she kissed her once again, 
 trying to smile at her with affection and
 
 "BLIND FOOLS OF FATE" 71 
 
 kindness, told her that she must not alto- 
 gether forget her mother and her little 
 brother, though it was not likely that she 
 would see them again for a little while; 
 and watched the train steaming out of the 
 crowded station with mingled feelings of 
 pity, relief, self-congratulation, and some 
 faint stirring of sorrow that she could not 
 feel more spontaneous affection for her 
 own child. Her own child ! that recalled 
 Lionel to her mind and her eyes brightened 
 and gleamed. How beautiful he was! how 
 dear! how sweet that Fate should give her 
 this one lovely thing to offset her disap- 
 pointment in the other direction! And 
 how delightful that the six hundred which 
 Horace Thayer had allowed her for the 
 future should be tied up so tightly that 
 only she could have access to it. Little 
 Lionel need not lack for everything while 
 she had that to fall back upon. 
 
 It may be asked if no thought of her dead 
 husband, no perception of the difference 
 between him and Allardi ever caused her 
 to draw painful contrasts and inferences. 
 Yes, these thoughts, these comparisons did 
 occur to her sorrowfully enough at times;
 
 72 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 she frequently bewailed the ugly Fate 
 which made the faithful dead abhorrent, 
 the unprincipled and worthless living dear 
 to her. But facts are facts. The dead was 
 abhorrent, the living was dear. So with 
 her children. Despite the fact that, al- 
 though at the time of which we write, 
 Lionel was a baby, he already displayed 
 traits which made her uneasy; despite the 
 fact that Lynn had been almost pathetically 
 " good " from babyhood, humbly devoted 
 to her mother, utterly subservient to every 
 whim of her baby brother; despite these 
 facts, Clara had for Lynn, at best, a sort 
 of affectionate tolerance, while for Lionel 
 she had an overpowering love. 
 
 Do not, dear reader, wholly bury poor 
 Clara under the weight of your virtuous 
 indignation. She had an unfortunate dis- 
 position, that was all. The worthless at- 
 tracted, the worthy annoyed her. She was 
 no more to blame than the child who seizes 
 some pernicious sweetmeat and refuses 
 even to look at the nourishing and expen- 
 sive meal which awaits his pleasure. 
 
 This much, at least, it is desired that the 
 reader keep clearly in mind when judging
 
 "BLIND FOOLS OF FATE" 73 
 
 Clara Allardi. Both in her " manage de 
 convenance " and in her " love-match " she 
 made the best of what she had; tried not 
 to visit upon Lowden Thayer the dislike 
 which marriage with him had awakened; 
 endeavoured to bear patiently with Guido 
 Allardi's vagaries and steadily refused to 
 leave him even when all her own money 
 had been squandered and when he was in- 
 capable of making enough to support 
 her, comfortably. This last, though, can 
 scarcely be attributed to her for righteous- 
 ness. The real reason that she stayed with 
 the Italian was because she could not leave 
 him; she was like a parasite, drawing her 
 very breath through him and unable to 
 exist away from him. 
 
 Poor Clara Allardi ! " Blind fool of fate 
 and slave of circumstance!" When her 
 unloved daughter responded to the letter 
 which had caused her such mingled pain 
 and joy, she found the former favourite of 
 fortune living or, rather, dying in the 
 modern equivalent of the historic garret, 
 a squalid tenement in an unfashionable and 
 ragged quarter of the great city of New 
 York. Her mother's husband, Lynn did
 
 74 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 not see; the strain of attending to his sick 
 wife had proved unsupportable and, after 
 a short time, he had taken his departure, 
 leaving no address. Lynn hoped that he 
 would not return until she had left New 
 York; she felt, seeing her mother and re- 
 membering what that mother had been in 
 the past, that she could scarcely have borne 
 the burden of his presence. Her fears, 
 however, were unnecessary; Clara Allardi 
 had been dead several days before that hus- 
 band returned and his absence had troubled 
 Lynn more than his presence could have 
 done; for it was from him that she was 
 obliged to ask the boon which crippled her 
 future yet filled her life for many years. 
 
 This, however, is anticipating. We must 
 return to the time when Lynn took up her 
 abode in her mother's " home " once more 
 and did what she could for the comfort of 
 that mother. She had complied with 
 Clara's request in so far that she had told 
 her guardians of her destination; she had 
 gone to the principal of the school where 
 she taught and had asked for leave of ab- 
 sence, offering to pay a substitute; then 
 had packed a valise and left a note for her
 
 "BLIND FOOLS OF FATE" 75 
 
 aunt, explaining her mother's condition and 
 begging that her uncle would not follow 
 or bother about her. This was merely a 
 figure of speech on Lynn's part; Horace 
 Thayer was a man who never bothered 
 about anything in the universe but himself. 
 Lynn realized, however, that her aunt, who 
 had a real affection for her, ought to know 
 her whereabouts and the object of her jour- 
 ney; though, in the face of her mother's 
 strangely insistent entreaties, she was 
 strongly tempted to use a long-standing 
 New York invitation from a school friend, 
 as a pretext. 
 
 She found her mother delirious and very 
 weak. She talked incoherently, but recog- 
 nized Lynn and greeted her with some- 
 thing like eagerness, in the way that one 
 would greet a useful friend rather than in 
 the way that one would greet a child whom 
 one had not seen for many years. Lynn, 
 however, had steeled herself to bear what 
 she had anticipated would not be an espe- 
 cially joyous reunion and took stoically 
 whatever arrows the joyous fates chose to 
 drive in her direction. 
 
 Must the truth be confessed? It was not
 
 76 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 the thought of seeing her mother before 
 she died that had formed Lynn's chief ob- 
 ject in hastening to New York. While she 
 would, in any case, have used every effort 
 to further her mother's dying wish, it must 
 be confessed that there was little more than 
 a bitter, dull grief in the prospect of seeing 
 the latter, again. But there was another, 
 darling prospect. The child! the little boy 
 who had been three when she left him, 
 would be ten, now. Oh, to see him, again! 
 the one being who had always clung to her, 
 loved her, satisfied her. The dear, unutter- 
 ably dear little mortal whose arrival into 
 the world had changed the face of life for 
 her. How had she lived without him all 
 these years? she wondered; was he as 
 beautiful as ever, as full of life and sweet- 
 ness? and had he come to resemble his 
 father as much as he had promised to do? 
 The thought depressed her for a moment; 
 she remembered how, as a child, it had 
 infuriated her to hear people remark upon 
 the wonderful likeness between Allardi and 
 his infant son. Then her brow cleared. 
 He was really more like her mother than 
 his father, she insisted to herself; as he
 
 "BLIND FOOLS OF FATE" 77 
 
 had her high-bred clearness of outline, so 
 he would inherit her delicate refinement, 
 her ineradicable fastidiousness of mind. 
 She lost herself in hopeful musing, almost 
 forgetting in the joy of seeing her little 
 brother once more that her mother's grave 
 would probably be dug before she returned 
 again to Montreal.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 "LIFE AT ITS END" 
 
 THE April morning broke softly, im- 
 placably chill. There was a hint 
 of cruelty in the frolicsome spring 1 
 breeze that danced through the half-opened 
 window, a hint of sorrow in the few faint 
 tremulous notes of " half-awakened birds," 
 preparing once more to face the strange 
 world of which they knew so little. There 
 was something ominous in the softness of 
 the spring air, something that chilled one's 
 blood with a faint terror. 
 
 Over the dreary tenements and horrible, 
 rearing buildings of New York broke the 
 pitiless day. The lovely rose of dawn 
 softened all that was bare and bleak and 
 gave it a semblance of tenderness and re- 
 pose. 
 
 There was silence in the room where 
 Death lay waiting. The body of Clara 
 
 78
 
 "LIFE AT ITS END" 79 
 
 Allardi lay stretched upon a bed in slum- 
 ber, her wasted hand, blue-veined, marble- 
 white, plucking mechanically at the quilt, 
 her restless voice muttering vaguely of 
 things that had long since passed away; 
 lips that had laughed, pulses that had 
 leaped, hearts that had broken, long, long 
 ago. Death, itself, might have laughed to 
 hear her; but her daughter did not laugh. 
 
 Clara's face was blue-veined now and 
 hollow-eyed, but, even so, was lovely; deli- 
 cately, uselessly lovely, with the flawless 
 pulchritude of a marble statue, the sicken- 
 ing, unearthly hue of ivory. Clara Allardi 
 had been very beautiful in her day, had had 
 her share of the kingdoms of this world 
 and the glories of them; she lay dying in 
 a New York tenement, unloved, uncared- 
 for, an old woman at the age of forty-five. 
 
 Nature " red of tooth and claw " is some- 
 times more horrible in tender mood than 
 in fierce; this riot of delicate colour and 
 tremulous song in the face of grisly Death 
 seemed to Lynn Thayer insulting and in- 
 decorous. The tragedy of the breaking day 
 and of the ebbing life gnawed at her heart. 
 She sat silent, watching the dying with
 
 8o THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 hungry eyes that held no trace of personal 
 grief, only a dumb heart-craving for some- 
 thing she had never known. 
 
 In the farther end of the room lay a child 
 who slept peacefully, his scarlet lips half- 
 parted in a smile, his delicate arms thrust 
 outside the bed-clothes and half-bared. 
 The long black lashes which lay on the 
 glowing dusk of his cheek; the thickness 
 of the clustering curls which shaded his 
 low brow; the almost insolent regularity 
 of his childish features : all proclaimed him 
 to be Guido Allardi's son. He was an ideal 
 and faithful representative of the old, Ital- 
 ian race to which his father belonged; be- 
 fore the family, ruined and disgraced, had 
 sought refuge in America, many such a 
 face had been seen in the family portrait 
 gallery. Probably none quite so beautiful; 
 beauty such as this child's is rare and the 
 possessors of it are seldom quite human. 
 Perhaps this fact may have given rise to the 
 old Greek myths of the gods descending 
 in human shape and proceeding to the per- 
 formance of most ungodlike actions. 
 
 Lynn's thoughts wandered sometimes to 
 the cot where the boy lay, looking as much
 
 "LIFE AT ITS END" 81 
 
 out of place in the sordid setting which the 
 room afforded as some strange tropical 
 plant. As she thought ,of him, her face 
 insensibly cleared. The baby brother of 
 her childhood days had proved a fulfilled 
 delight. As beautiful as in infancy and 
 with the same caressing, clinging ways 
 which had made him so dear to her then, 
 he had justified, to her, her loving remem- 
 brance of him. She cherished a hidden 
 thought of which she was half ashamed yet 
 which held a very real sweetness; namely, 
 that, in spite of the long years of separa- 
 tion, the boy loved and clung to her and, 
 as of old, seemed to prefer her society to 
 that of his mother. She failed to realize 
 that the stock of bonbons and toys with 
 which she had provided herself had induced 
 the affection which the child showed so 
 freely; she did not know that he would 
 have left his dying mother with equal alac- 
 rity for anyone who would have fed him 
 with chocolates. So little do we compre- 
 hend what is passing in the minds of those 
 most near and dear to us ; even in the crys- 
 tal mind of a child there are depths which 
 it is just as well not to probe too deeply.
 
 82 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 In the bare and comfortless room where 
 these three were congregated Life and 
 Death were present and one more Judg- 
 ment. Judgment, the dread avenger who 
 dogs the steps of Sin. Judgment which, 
 after the fashion of Judgment, would fall 
 most heavily on the innocent head, most 
 cruelly on the undeserving. Could Lynn 
 have looked into the future and seen the 
 awful harvest of corruption which the 
 sleeping child would reap it may be won- 
 dered whether she would not have killed 
 him as he lay, out of sheer pity. 
 
 Ah, the tragedy of Life! Life that takes 
 from us one by one all the glittering bau- 
 bles with which she has amused our child- 
 ish hours the rose-hued hopes, the crim- 
 son loves, the golden ambitions and 
 gives us in their place what? The dying 
 moaned as though these thoughts had 
 found an echo in her heart; then lay still, 
 looking straight in front of her with eyes 
 which, though glazed and uncertain, held 
 a certain intelligence. 
 
 "Mother are you better? do you un- 
 derstand me?" asked Lynn very softly, 
 bending over the bed.
 
 "LIFE AT ITS END" 83 
 
 Clara Allardi turned her head slightly; 
 her lips moved. 
 
 ' There was something, something you 
 wanted to say," cried Lynn, desperately. 
 "If you could only tell me now; it will 
 not take long, will it?" 
 
 Her mother's face brightened into life; 
 an anxious gleam shone in her eyes which 
 now held no uncertainty, but were the 
 homes of an insistent purpose, a keen de- 
 sire. She struggled a moment, then spoke, 
 faintly. 
 
 "Your brother? " 
 
 "Yes. Yes." 
 
 " Not really only your half-brother 
 but you always cared just as much " 
 
 " More. Oh, mother, a thousand times 
 more. Don't waste time in saying all this. 
 Is it something you want me to do for 
 Lionel? Surely you know that anything I 
 could do would be all too little tell me, 
 just tell me what it is. I swear to do it, 
 whatever it may be." 
 
 " See to him. His father you know " 
 
 " I know." 
 
 " Doesn't understand children the 
 little fellow may be hungry, cold " Clara
 
 84 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 Allardi's voice broke into a pitiful quaver 
 which shook Lynn's composure, terribly. 
 
 " Mother," she said, growing white and 
 speaking distinctly, " you are wasting time 
 and you may not have much more time. 
 You know you must know that, while 
 I live, Liol shall want for nothing that 
 I can give him. He can never be cold 
 or hungry or friendless or love- 
 less while I live. You must know all 
 that. I have my teacher's salary; if that 
 is not enough I will get money in some 
 other way; I have some saved, I have some 
 jewelry oh, don't talk of anything so triv- 
 ial, so absurd, as the idea of Lionel ever 
 wanting for anything which I can give 
 him. You understand all that, don't you, 
 mother?" 
 
 Her mother's face cleared, then clouded. 
 
 1 You may marry change?" she mut- 
 tered, looking wistfully at her daughter. 
 
 "Never!" said Lynn, choking. "You 
 don't understand me, mother. I could 
 never think of marriage while Liol was 
 dependent on me; and, as for change 
 if that is all, you can die happy." 
 
 " Swear," said her mother, faintly.
 
 "LIFE AT ITS END" 85 
 
 Lynn hesitated. " I don't like swearing," 
 she returned, reluctantly, " but, if it will 
 make you any happier I swear by every- 
 thing in heaven and earth by God Al- 
 mighty by the memory of my father 
 that I will do exactly as I have said. I 
 will look after Lionel always, always, no 
 matter what it costs me. Now are you 
 satisfied?" 
 
 " You won't be hard on him he is," 
 she winced, " he is Guide's child. We 
 don't don't always understand foreigners 
 women don't always understand 
 men. You will remember? you will 
 think of his heritage and be merciful? 
 I have always had to be." Her voice 
 dropped and broke in a dry sob. 
 
 " If he develops into what your husband 
 is," returned Lynn, quietly, " it will make 
 no difference. You don't understand me, 
 mother. Just as you never left the other 
 one, because you couldn't, because you 
 wouldn't have cared to live away from him ; 
 so I I couldn't desert Liol. I have al- 
 ways loved him; how dearly you have 
 never even guessed. I shall always love 
 him and and when he leaves his father
 
 86 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 and goes to a good school and knows only 
 good people " 
 
 " It's in his blood," said his mother, 
 faintly. " Already already it shows. 
 You you must make allowances. An- 
 other thing!" she attempted to raise her- 
 self in the bed and her eyes shone with 
 a feverish glitter, "another thing, Lynn! 
 No one must know." Her voice grew 
 firmer, her hand more steady. " You re- 
 member the conditions when your un- 
 cle " 
 
 ' I remember them well. But, dear 
 mother, you don't think Uncle Horace 
 would hold me to them now?" 
 
 ' l Horace is hard a hard man. When 
 if Liol did take after his father they 
 would never let you see him or know 
 him. No. If I am to die in peace you must 
 swear never to tell a living soul that he is 
 your brother. If anyone at all knew 
 your uncle might find out oh, Lynn, 
 promise? " 
 
 Lynn spoke, slowly. " You have not 
 thought, mother. This secrecy will lead 
 to all sorts of complications. Uncle Hor- 
 ace is a hard man, but he is just. He will
 
 "LIFE AT ITS END" 87 
 
 grumble and think me a fool, but he can't 
 refuse his consent. At present for a 
 while it won't matter, not telling any- 
 one about Liol ; but later on oh, mother, 
 don't ask me to promise that. Let me use 
 my discretion about it, won't you?" 
 
 Clara Allardi half raised herself in bed; 
 her eyes shone with unnatural lustre, her 
 delicate features thickened with a sort of 
 fury and fever of determination. 
 
 "You refuse?" she said with terrible 
 distinctness. "You refuse? Then I 
 curse you. I curse you. You you're 
 taking your revenge now when I'm dying 
 and helpless for the years that I've put 
 him before you. I curse you why can't 
 you let me die in peace? You'll tell 
 you'll tell the Thayers; they'll make you 
 give him up or turn you out of doors. How 
 will you look after him then on a miserable 
 pittance that depends upon your strength 
 anyway and may fail at any moment? Ah, 
 you're your father in the flesh," she 
 spoke, slowly and with a concentrated bit- 
 terness that appalled Lynn. " Good hard 
 hateful ! Why did I ever bring you into 
 the world?"
 
 88 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 " That I might look after the child whom 
 you love, I suppose," returned Lynn with 
 equal bitterness. " Have no fear, mother. 
 You needn't curse me. If nothing else will 
 make you happy, I'll swear. You know, of 
 course, that you're making me deceive and 
 lie to my guardians and all the rest of 
 the world and that you may land me in 
 hopeless confusion and trouble; but if you 
 think that will benefit Liol and minimize 
 the chances of his being deprived of any- 
 thing or annoyed in any way why, of 
 course, there is nothing more to be said 
 is there?" 
 
 But Clara Allardi had sunk back with a 
 look of satisfaction and relief at hearing 
 her daughter's bitter promise to take the 
 oath required, and it is doubtful whether 
 she even heard the rest. 
 
 " Swear, then ! " was all she answered. 
 
 Lynn hesitated; looked imploringly at 
 her mother; then slowly and reluctantly 
 repeated her former oath. " By God Al- 
 mighty by the memory of my father 
 by all I hold sacred in heaven and earth 
 mother, mother, mother!" 
 
 Clara's fair face had turned the colour of
 
 "LIFE AT ITS END" 89 
 
 parchment; no breath of life seemed issu- 
 ing from her blue lips. Struck by a deadly 
 fear, a still more poignant longing, Lynn 
 Thayer bent over her mother's death-bed, 
 yearning with an intensity which surprised 
 herself, for some word of kindness, of rec- 
 ognition, ere the poor dust turned to dust. 
 It almost seemed as though her prayer had 
 been answered, for Clara opened her eyes 
 and looked at Lynn, a lovely light of long- 
 ing in them. Her lips moved faintly. 
 
 "My child!" the whisper came softly 
 " my boy my only child ! " 
 
 She did not realize, of course, what she 
 was saying. Lynn understood that. She 
 rose from her knees, with lips firmly set. 
 Her face was a little white. 
 
 " You want to see him again," she said, 
 in tones which sounded clearly. " I will 
 bring him to you." 
 
 Mrs. Allardi's face brightened. Lynn 
 had divined her inmost thought. She 
 yearned for the child. She hungered to 
 die, holding him. But Fate, implacable as 
 iron to the profitless wishes of poor foolish, 
 failing, mortal things, decreed otherwise. 
 A change on the dying face, an ominous
 
 9 o THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 rattle and choking, arrested Lynn's foot- 
 steps and brought her hurriedly back. 
 
 Clara Allardi gasped a little, a very little, 
 then lay quiet. Lynn stood and watched 
 her, looking pinched and plain in the try- 
 ing light of early dawn. The other woman 
 lay with eyes that stared a little. Presently 
 Lynn realized that she was dead; it did 
 not come as a shock, only as an added deso- 
 lation. She leaned forward and touched 
 the cold cheek, timidly. 
 
 "Mother!" she said in a low voice, 
 "Mother!" 
 
 There was a brief and bitter silence. 
 Then Lynn took the cold head in her arms 
 and held it for a moment while her tears 
 fell fast and bitterly over it. 
 
 " She was my mother," she said, weep- 
 ing, " she was my mother ! " There 
 was no complaint in her tones, only a dull 
 pain. Her face held an unconscious deso- 
 lation as she laid the fair head back on the 
 pillow and settled it, decently. She shiv- 
 ered a little as one soft, scented tress fell 
 against her hand. She had never touched 
 her mother's hair in life and, oddly enough, 
 this trifling remembrance cut her to the
 
 "LIFE AT ITS END" 91 
 
 naked soul. She gasped and looked away, 
 choking down her rising sobs with a species 
 of horror and disgust. Life had taught her 
 self-control, and she disliked noise in the 
 presence of the dead. 
 
 Presently she rose and moved softly to 
 the cot where the boy lay sleeping. She 
 looked at him in silence. He stirred in his 
 sleep and smiled a little. Her sallow face 
 flamed into sudden life and beauty as she 
 stood, watching him, an adoring smile 
 curving her thin lips. She had forgotten 
 the other silent inmate of the room who 
 lay, smiling too, the dead eyes which her 
 daughter had forgotten to close, gazing in 
 front of her as though she saw nothing to 
 fear in the eternity upon which she had 
 entered. 
 
 Suddenly there was a burst of radiance, 
 a riot of colour and fragrance and song. 
 The chill, pink light of sunrise streamed 
 through the window and lay on the dead 
 face, making it very lovely. A delicate 
 rose was reflected in the icy cheek, a bril- 
 liant gold in the faded hair. Lynn, who had 
 turned, startled by the sudden light, was 
 struck by her mother's beauty. Despite
 
 92 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 anxiety, illness, sorrow, Clara Allardi made 
 rather an exquisite corpse; and, as her 
 plain daughter sat watching her in the try- 
 ing light of early dawn, she reflected with 
 a smile that held no mirth that even in 
 death it was well to have regular features 
 and abundance of soft hair. Then her face 
 changed and softened. She moved rever- 
 ently to the side of the bed, veiled the star- 
 ing eyes, crossed the thin hands. Then she 
 knelt and prayed; while far, immeasurably 
 far below, the slow wail of the sick child, 
 the low moan of the hungry animal, smote 
 on the deaf ear, the cold heart, of great 
 New York.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 A SHORT REPENTANCE 
 
 "Indeed, indeed, Repentance oft before 
 I swore but was I sober when I swore? 
 And then and then came Spring and rose-in-hand 
 My thread-bare Penitence apieces tore. 
 
 The Rubaiyat. 
 
 NINE years had passed since the 
 events related in the last chapter. 
 Lynn Thayer had developed from 
 a girl of nineteen into a woman of twenty- 
 eight. She had lived quietly in Montreal, 
 never relinquishing her position in the 
 school, though, as the years went by, her 
 aunt had more than once begged her to 
 remain at home and lead the life of an 
 ordinary young woman of her class. 
 
 As has before been said, Lynn occupied 
 a rather exceptional position in Montreal. 
 The average girl who teaches in the public 
 schools makes up her mind, sooner or later, 
 to be a teacher, only. Her position is not 
 considered in the light of a disgrace, but, 
 
 93
 
 94 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 on the other hand, she occupies a slightly 
 lower grade than does the girl who remains 
 at home. The latter, provided she has the 
 social connections and the time, may go 
 into any society she pleases. She may be 
 unable to return any hospitality except in 
 a very simple fashion, but she may still fig- 
 ure as a " society girl " and receive and 
 accept invitations in the most exclusive 
 houses. 
 
 Probably no other girl but Lynn, how- 
 ever, was ever successful in combining the 
 duties of a public school teacher and of a 
 society girl. Both her father and mother 
 had been so well-to-do, so well-known in 
 Montreal; both had had so many rich 
 friends, so many influential connections, 
 that their daughter was of necessity a fig- 
 ure of interest. Then, too, she was con- 
 nected with the nobility; and, what was 
 more important, her aunts on both sides 
 of the family, who lived in Montreal, re- 
 ceived and returned visits from the most 
 exclusive Butchers, Bakers and Candle- 
 stick-Makers, and were generally accepted 
 as " fixtures " in society. Therefore Lynn 
 had invitations of all kinds, not only from
 
 A SHORT REPENTANCE 95 
 
 people of gentle breeding, aristocratic birth 
 and good character, but also from that far 
 more important section of " society " who 
 lived in big houses and got their clothes 
 from Paquin. She never " came out," much 
 to her aunt's grief; but she "went out," 
 which was more to the point and which 
 many girls who " come out " never succeed 
 in doing. She was so popular, so generally 
 liked, that her obstinate determination to 
 spend her days in teaching was both ad- 
 mired and extolled. 
 
 Meanwhile, what of her brother? 
 
 On Mrs. Allardi's death Lynn had se- 
 cured from hrs father, who appeared su- 
 premely indifferent to the child and to his 
 fate, a promise that she was to have full 
 control of him, on condition of paying for 
 his board and education. Lynn, after con- 
 siderable thought, made arrangements for 
 him at a good but unfashionable school in 
 the country, as far as possible removed 
 from his father. She was struck by the 
 attitude of father and son to one another. 
 Allardi seemed to regard his small son as 
 an amusing kind of dog, to be patted on 
 the head if he were in a good humour,
 
 96 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 kicked out of the way if he were not; he 
 was proud of him, in a way, devoted to 
 him; yet, apparently, never thought any- 
 thing of his present wants or of his future 
 needs. He was quite capable of leaving 
 the child alone for days while he sought 
 distraction elsewhere, and of loading him 
 with bonbons and caresses on his return. 
 
 He felt that if this queer, silent step- 
 daughter of his chose to supplement a small 
 allowance which Mr. Thayer had promised 
 to make the boy, he would be very foolish 
 to stand in the way. He could make any 
 promise she chose to exact and break it 
 with alacrity as soon as the keeping of it 
 became inconvenient. Therefore the readi- 
 ness with which he promised to see prac- 
 tically nothing of the boy in the future 
 sprang really from a defective sense of the 
 value of a promise, rather than from the 
 total heartlessness with which Lynn cred- 
 ited him. He was really fond of Lionel 
 in his way; and fully intended to see all 
 that he wished of him, whenever necessary. 
 
 So the child went to school and Lynn 
 returned to Montreal and worked steadily 
 for the extra sums which were needed for
 
 A SHORT REPENTANCE 97 
 
 Lionel's maintenance. The next few years 
 were comparatively restful and pleasant 
 ones. The reports which she received of 
 Lionel were not good, yet he seemed to be 
 progressing fairly well, and Lynn, remem- 
 bering her mother's dying words, tried not 
 to expect too much in the beginning. 
 When Lionel was fourteen, however, he 
 ran away and joined his father in New 
 York. 
 
 Lynn did not even know his whereabouts 
 and had no way of discovering them. The 
 boy did not assuage her anxiety by writing, 
 feeling that his hiding-place might be as- 
 certained if he gave any clue to it and that 
 he would then be compelled to return. 
 However, Allardi wrote to Lynn after a 
 time, telling her that the boy was with him 
 and asking that she would not withdraw 
 her help as Lionel already needed much 
 that he could not give him. 
 
 Lynn exhausted entreaties, reproofs, and 
 even threats. Allardi was the boy's natural 
 guardian in the eyes of the law; his will 
 was absolute and he refused to send the 
 boy from him unless well paid for so doing. 
 This was out of the question. Lynn had
 
 98 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 already earned the reputation of a miser 
 for the scantiness and plainness of the 
 wardrobe which Mrs. Thayer felt herself 
 constantly obliged to supplement. Nat- 
 urally Mrs. Thayer could not see why a 
 girl with fifty dollars a month to spend on 
 herself alone as she supposed should 
 lack for anything in reason. 
 
 Here the inconvenience and absurdity of 
 the oath which Mrs. Allardi had made 
 Lynn swear began to show itself most un- 
 pleasantly. The truth was so simple, the 
 secrecy made the whole matter so difficult. 
 Lynn had dreaded inquiries anent the boy 
 when she first returned after her mother's 
 death, but none had been forthcoming. Mr. 
 Thayer had expected that Lynn would ask 
 him to have an eye to the boy and see that 
 the small allowance he had promised to 
 make him was fairly spent; when nothing 
 was said on the matter he assumed that 
 Lynn disliked the child as she did the 
 father and preferred never to think or 
 speak of them, now that the one link be- 
 tween them and her was broken. Mr. 
 Thayer was glad to forget the existence 
 of his sister-in-law's other child. He had
 
 A SHORT REPENTANCE 99 
 
 never even seen the father or the son; he 
 had been intensely indignant at the second 
 marriage contracted while Clara was visit- 
 ing friends in the States; and, subsequent 
 events having justified his indignation, he 
 had sedulously avoided meeting any of the 
 people concerned. His offer to adopt Lynn 
 had been made by letter; he had sent 
 money for the journey when that offer was 
 accepted, and settled the amount agreed 
 upon his sister-in-law; and had then en- 
 deavoured to drive the whole affair from his 
 mind. However, upon Lynn's return from 
 New York, he did make some gruff inqui- 
 ries as to the child's whereabouts; and, on 
 her replying that the boy was at a cheap 
 but highly respectable boarding-school in 
 the country, he had, with a feeling of relief, 
 dismissed the whole matter from his mind, 
 thinking that " that Italian blackguard " 
 had some sense of decency after all. 
 
 There seemed little that Lynn could do, 
 now that Lionel had taken matters into his 
 own hands and openly declared his inten- 
 tion of remaining with his father. Of 
 course the rational thing was to break her 
 promise and take her relatives into her con-
 
 ioo THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 fidence. Only the most scrupulous moralist 
 could hold her bound by an oath which her 
 mother, could she have looked into the 
 future, would have surely wished her to 
 break. Ah, if only logic ruled life, how 
 simple life would be. Unfortunately it does 
 not. 
 
 Lynn had inherited from both father and 
 mother an overstrained sense of honour 
 and, though she had done her best to re- 
 frain from making the unfair and ridiculous 
 promise, the possibility of breaking it when 
 made never occurred to her. 
 
 The Roman Catholic system of confes- 
 sion has its advantages after all. Had 
 Lynn gone to any confessional and asked 
 for permission to break her oath, and abso- 
 lution for the sin of so doing, what sensible 
 man, priest or layman, would have refused 
 to sanction such a procedure? Lynn, under 
 the circumstances, had no confidant, no ad- 
 viser, no one to show her the needlessness 
 of her various sacrifices. 
 
 Besides, it is to be feared that Lynn's 
 sense of honour was so deeply ingrained 
 that it could not, under any conditions, 
 have yielded to the dictates of common
 
 A SHORT REPENTANCE 101 
 
 sense. She would probably have done, in 
 any circumstances, just what she proceeded 
 to do; kept the foolish oath in its entirety, 
 continued to help the ungrateful boy, in 
 spite of the fact that he, in defiance of her 
 expressed wishes, continued to live in New 
 York with his father, and generally have 
 conducted herself as over-fond and irra- 
 tional women do, under such circumstances. 
 
 When Lionel was sixteen, however, his 
 father died of consumption in a tragic and 
 horrible manner; and Lionel, temporarily 
 sobered by the occurrence, suddenly " turned 
 over a new leaf," as he expressed it, and 
 wrote Lynn to that effect, declaring his 
 intention of taking up literary work and 
 " making his name in it." Although his 
 manner of supporting himself did not seem 
 very practicable to his sister, she hailed with 
 joy this indication that her work and care 
 had at last borne fruit. 
 
 And, for a short time, Lionel was a 
 source of unmitigated joy and pride to her. 
 There are but a few poets in the world and 
 he was one of them. His work earned him 
 instant recognition among a certain set 
 and, although his earnings were paltry, he,
 
 102 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 at all events, did earn something and bade 
 fair to earn more. All literary workers 
 know how frequently a certain amount of 
 fame may be gained with very small pecuni- 
 ary success to back it. 
 
 Then Lionel decided to live in Montreal. 
 He was ill; New York did not agree with 
 him; he wanted new experiences and real- 
 ized that Lynn could give him one thing 
 that he had never known the society of 
 rich and fashionable people; and, more im- 
 portant than all, he knew well that he could 
 wheedle every penny of her earnings from 
 her, provided he lived in the same town. 
 The boy was a degenerate, totally without 
 gentle feeling of any kind, his only ap- 
 proach to it being a sort of sympathetic 
 and artistic understanding of other people's 
 emotions. His sister was, to him, merely 
 a cow to be milked dry. He was, to his 
 sister, a demi-god to be sacrificed to; she 
 laid before him in the dust the burnt ashes 
 of her heart and life and received the fit- 
 ting and inevitable reward of such folly. 
 
 By reason of the oath sworn by Lynn 
 and also because Lionel had won fame 
 under the name of Leo Ricossia, this was
 
 A SHORT REPENTANCE 103 
 
 the name by which he chose to be known 
 in Montreal. As Leo Ricossia he was re- 
 ceived with open arms. He had secured 
 letters of introduction to certain influential 
 Montrealers and soon contrived to be for- 
 mally presented to his sister at the home 
 of one of these. His literary fame had pre- 
 ceded him, and this, in conjunction with his 
 extraordinary beauty, his extreme youth, 
 and the fact that he, already, lay under 
 sentence of death made him, for the time 
 being, " the rage." No social gathering 
 was complete without him; all the debu- 
 tantes cut out his poems, pasted them in 
 albums, and entreated his signature on the 
 opening page; all the older women of fash- 
 ion petted, indulged and ran after him. 
 
 It is extraordinary how rapidly and com- 
 pletely a certain person may become " the 
 rage " and still more extraordinary how 
 rapidly and completely this person may 
 sink out of sight and be practically forgot- 
 ten in the space of a few months. For about 
 a year Ricossia's popularity was at fever 
 height; then murmurs of disapprobation, 
 shruggings of shoulders, a few hints here, 
 a few direct words of condemnation there
 
 104 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 and, by the end of another year, Society 
 knew Ricossia no more. He had over- 
 stepped the limit of indulgence; much is 
 excused to a young and handsome man 
 with charming manners and lung disease; 
 but not everything. In Ricossia's case, un- 
 fortunately, there was everything to excuse 
 and people finally and positively refused to 
 excuse it. Ricossia, who had tired very 
 quickly of comparative respectability, ha- 
 stened the climax with a certain gay reck- 
 lessness, and abandoned himself with entire 
 satisfaction to all that he had vowed to 
 relinquish when he came to Montreal. Ta- 
 king up his abode in the disreputable old 
 studio building before-mentioned, he pro- 
 ceeded to follow very literally the words of 
 the Episcopal prayer-book, doing every- 
 thing that he ought not to do, leaving un- 
 done all that he ought to do. 
 
 Now, it will be supposed, Lynn's patience 
 failed, utterly. Now, at last she abandoned 
 the wretched boy who was bound to her 
 only by blood and who had voluntarily re- 
 linquished every claim on her regard? Ah, 
 no. Again let us repeat, if only logic ruled 
 life, how simple life would be. As logic
 
 A SHORT REPENTANCE 105 
 
 does not rule life, Lynn continued to 
 support her half-brother, denying herself 
 everything that she could go without, re- 
 fusing all invitations that entailed expen- 
 sive clothes, immolating herself on the altar 
 of self-sacrifice with most-admired indis- 
 cretion. Nor was this all. As it was 
 clearly impossible that the disgraced and 
 ostracized Ricossia should visit her in the 
 respectable home of her irreproachable rela- 
 tives; as it was equally impossible that she 
 should go by daylight to the somewhat dis- 
 reputable quarter of the town where he 
 lived; as everything within her denied the 
 possibility of leaving him to die in poverty, 
 illness and loneliness; for all these reasons 
 and for fifty others equally excellent, Lynn 
 hit on the brilliant plan of visiting him by 
 stealth, Nicodemus-fashion, of going osten- 
 sibly to dine with some friend or friends, 
 and of leaving early and driving to the 
 Chatham in order to see for herself whether 
 the worthless life was still extant and 
 whether the cold heart craved anything 
 that she could give it. A fool? Oh yes, 
 a very great and undoubted fool. 
 
 Unfortunately the vast mass of humanity
 
 io6 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 is composed of fools, and the people appar- 
 ently free from any trace of such folly are 
 not just the people whom we most admire 
 and love. Casabianca, standing flame-en- 
 circled on the sinking ship; Joan of Arc 
 leading a handful of peasants against the 
 flower of the English army; Charlotte Cor- 
 day giving her life on the guillotine for the 
 pleasure of making a martyr of an inhuman 
 hound; all these and all the other divine 
 fools of history make a curious appeal to 
 humanity. Why? That is difficult to an- 
 swer. Perhaps because, deep in our hearts, 
 we know ourselves to be fools and are not, 
 in moments of depression, quite convinced 
 that we are even divine fools. 
 
 Be that as it may, Lynn Thayer qualified 
 herself, as will be admitted, for a high place 
 in the picture gallery of fools; risking her 
 reputation, beggaring her life, breaking her 
 heart, all for the sake of a boy who had 
 done nothing from childhood but grieve, tor- 
 ment and disappoint her. Ah, but he had 
 done a little more than this. He had filled 
 her life with his image; he had afforded 
 her an object on which to squander the 
 treasures of her mind and heart. And what
 
 A SHORT REPENTANCE 107 
 
 more does the average fool want, whether 
 she be an historical, or, as in this case, an 
 ultra-modern fool? 
 
 Ricossia had hit on a way by which Lynn 
 was enabled to supplement her teacher's 
 salary and provide for him more comfort- 
 ably. Struck by the humour and style of 
 a little sketch which she had written for 
 his amusement, he made a few alterations 
 in it and sent it to an editor with whom he 
 was personally acquainted, under his own 
 name. It was accepted and paid for; and, 
 from that time on, Ricossia was known for 
 his pungent and witty society skits. Lynn 
 was only too grateful for the addition to 
 her much-strained purse and delighted that 
 her brother was pleased to approve of her 
 work. Had it not been for this new method 
 of earning, she would have found it increas- 
 ingly difficult to account for the way in 
 which her money went, bringing her no 
 apparent return. 
 
 In her spare moments, therefore, she 
 wrote, busily, and, moreover, assumed the 
 duty of amanuensis to her brother, who 
 seemed more and more indifferent, as his 
 health declined and his energy waned, as
 
 io8 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 to the disposal of his brain-wares. Pro- 
 vided he could carouse all night and sleep 
 all day he seemed content; only varying 
 this routine by complaints if Lynn either 
 came at inopportune times or failed to come 
 when she might have been of use. 
 
 He absolutely refused all medical aid and 
 scoffed at the idea of going to a sanitarium. 
 He knew that he must die and he wanted 
 to die, happy And, if Lynn had but known 
 it, this, under the circumstances, was about 
 the greatest kindness he could have done 
 society in general and his sister in partic- 
 ular.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 " PUNCHINELLO " 
 
 "He laughed ... as gaily, 
 
 Dancing, joking every night, 
 'He's the maddest, merriest fellow,' 
 
 Cried the people with delight. 
 Bravo, bravo ! Punchinello ! 
 Bravo, Punchinello ! " 
 
 Old Song. 
 
 MR. ZANGWELL, in his clever " Se- 
 rio-Comic Governess," has shown 
 us a young lady leading two very 
 different lives at one and the same time. 
 In the day-time she is a highly respectable 
 and decorous governess, at night, a music- 
 hall artiste. In both lines she is a success 
 Now this success is probably owing to 
 the fact that this particular young lady is 
 gratifying her curiosity and her desire to 
 lead a conventional existence at one and 
 the same time. She is, in short, doing that 
 which she wishes to do. 
 
 There are many such " serio-comic gov- 
 ernesses " in real life. Perhaps you, who 
 
 109
 
 no THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 read, may be one; perhaps, unknown to 
 you, the dear friend from whom you have 
 no secrets and who, you fondly believe, has 
 none from you, may have a personality 
 which you have never even guessed at. 
 
 In the case of our " serio-comic govern- 
 ess," however, we must draw a distinc- 
 tion. Lynn Thayer liked neither of her 
 lives, which clashed horribly both with one 
 another and with her sense of right. Since 
 she saw no way in which she could avoid 
 it, however, she continued to lead them to 
 the best of her ability, sustained, if not 
 comforted, by the thought that one of them 
 was bound to terminate with the death of 
 the one being whom she most loved. 
 
 We have seen our " serio-comic govern- 
 ess " in one role; now we see her in an- 
 other. We have seen Punchinello with the 
 mask off and the grin absent; now we see 
 him as he appears daily in the theatre of 
 life. 
 
 Lynn had returned from the school 
 where she taught and sat in her aunt's 
 sitting-room, engaged on a shirtwaist and 
 in conversation. If we listen we shall be 
 able to form a fair idea of the progress of
 
 "PUNCHINELLO" in 
 
 the conversation, if not of that of the shirt- 
 waist. Mrs. Thayer was employed in em- 
 broidering a collar and impressed the cas- 
 ual observer as doing the exact thing for 
 which Nature had fitted her. She was one 
 of those pretty, faded, querulous women 
 with worthy hearts but limited intellects of 
 whom one almost instinctively speaks as 
 " poor thing " ; why, it is hard to say, ex- 
 cept that something in their appearance 
 calls forth the expression. No one ever 
 called Lynn Thayer " poor thing," nor 
 would, whatever griefs or difficulties she 
 might labour under. 
 
 Mrs. Thayer was speaking. 
 
 " Now, Lynn, <why is he not coming here, 
 to-night?" 
 
 " For one thing, because I don't want 
 him; and, for another, because he is chang- 
 ing his hotel. You know he is staying at 
 the ' Hastings ' while his house is in the 
 hands of the painters." 
 
 " And he is moving from the ' Hastings/ 
 Why?" 
 
 " Oh, I think he said it was ' tough ' and 
 that he would have to leave it. I tried hard 
 not to compliment him upon the altruism
 
 ii2 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 of his action. Certainly if one thing more 
 than another is calculated to ' raise the 
 tone ' of a hotel, it is his leaving it." 
 
 "Lynn! you didn't tell him so?" 
 shrieked her aunt. 
 
 " No," returned her niece, rather sorrow- 
 fully. " I didn't. I wish I had." 
 
 "Lynn/" 
 
 " I don't often neglect anything calcu- 
 lated to render me unpopular with him," 
 continued Miss Thayer, composedly, " and 
 when I do I'm always sorry for it, after- 
 wards. You know that, Aunt Lucy?" 
 
 " Lynn, dear, don't use all those long 
 words," adjured her aunt, piteously. " They 
 do sound so clever. And men do so hate 
 clever women. I don't mean that you are 
 clever, you understand, dear," she contin- 
 ued, apologetically, " only that you appear 
 so, sometimes." 
 
 " I wonder whether Mr. Lighten would 
 dislike it if he thought I were clever!" 
 queried Lynn with sudden interest. 
 
 " I don't know. I am afraid " 
 
 "How I would scintillate if I only 
 thought it would annoy him," Lynn said 
 in a low voice.
 
 "PUNCHINELLO" 113 
 
 Mrs. Thayer started, indignantly. 
 
 " I am thankful," she reflected in loud 
 and severe accents, " that I was never af- 
 flicted with a desire to make myself un- 
 pleasant to estimable young men." 
 
 " Estimable ! Aunt Lucy ! " 
 
 " It is true," said Mrs. Thayer, putting 
 two diminutive stitches in the collar which 
 she was embroidering, " it is undeniably 
 true, Lynn, that the poor boy has been a 
 little wild. But he wants to settle down." 
 
 "If he wants to settle down with me, 
 Aunt Lucy, he can want." 
 
 " Lynn, is that the remark of a lady? " 
 
 " It is ; and, furthermore, it is the remark 
 of a lady who knows her own mind." 
 
 Mrs. Thayer raised a tiny handkerchief 
 to her eyes and deposited two tinier tears, 
 thereupon. Long practice had made her 
 an adept in the gentle art of weeping, by 
 which art she had succeeded in establishing 
 an absolute monarchy in her own home. 
 
 " Oh, Lynn, what a way to talk," she 
 wept, gently, " when the poor boy is so 
 fond of you and has such a good salary and 
 a house of his own, besides. How few 
 young men have houses of their own that
 
 ii 4 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 you can walk right into as soon as you 
 marry them! What are you laughing 
 at? And anyway he is much too good for 
 you and besides Eva Holt would jump at 
 him/' 
 
 " Let her jump." 
 
 " Ah, Lynn, you have no natural, wom- 
 anly instincts." 
 
 " I am afraid I am lacking in some." 
 
 " Such a nice house as it is, too," sighed 
 her aunt, "and all being done over new 
 plumbing, electric light and everything! 
 Electric light is so nice to read by. How 
 fortunate it is that his uncle di that is 
 to say, how fortunate it is that his uncle 
 left it to him." 
 
 " Yes, indeed. There's something very 
 attractive about electric lights," returned 
 her niece, gravely. 
 
 Mrs. Thayer looked slightly puzzled and 
 changed the subject. 
 
 " Mr. Lighton is really in many ways a 
 very nice young man," she ventured, tim- 
 idly. " And not a bit worse than lots of 
 others." 
 
 "Not a bit!" assented the other. Her 
 voice was still cheerful but her face had
 
 "PUNCHINELLO" 115 
 
 clouded a little. ' The trouble is," she went 
 on, rather absently, after a moment's pause, 
 " the trouble is, he's worse-looking. Vice, 
 pure and simple, one might tolerate; but 
 vice, in conjunction with a vermilion 
 
 nose " 
 
 " Lynn ! " interrupted her aunt with 
 righteous indignation. " Mr. Lighten is 
 as the Lord made him." 
 
 "The Lord! Brandy and soda!" 
 
 Mrs. Thayer had her answer ready in her 
 pocket; she drew it out and deposited three 
 more tears upon its snowy surface. Lynn 
 hesitated; she had a truly masculine aver- 
 sion to tears, an aversion which had cost 
 her many a domestic battle. 
 
 '"' Please don't cry, Aunt Lucy," she burst 
 forth at length. " I don't see why you are 
 so very anxious to get me married. I 
 thought you liked having me in the house. 
 If you don't " 
 
 " Of course I like having you," said the 
 older woman, reproachfully. " But I must 
 confess that it makes me feel dreadfully to 
 think of having you, always that is, I 
 mean that it makes me feel dreadfully to 
 see you throw away such good chances.
 
 n6 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 For you know, Lynn, you are not in the 
 least pretty." 
 
 " Dear Aunt Lucy, you have told me that 
 so often," returned her niece, patiently. 
 " But I cannot for the life of me see why 
 the fact of my not possessing a Greek pro- 
 file should make me want to marry Mr. 
 Lighten." 
 
 " That is just where you are so incom- 
 prehensible. And, besides, he has such a 
 lovely horse." 
 
 " His horse is certainly a dream. Un- 
 fortunately, though, it was not his horse 
 who proposed. If I could marry the horse 
 and lock the gentleman up in the stable, I'd 
 do it with pleasure. O dear, why will you 
 talk about it and make me say such horrid 
 things. The plain truth of the matter is 
 that I do not like the man and I hate talk- 
 ing about the whole affair. It irritates me, 
 someway. I hate to see anything wasted." 
 
 " Then why do you " 
 
 " Oh, Aunt Lucy, don't start it, again ! 
 after all I've said." 
 
 " I perceive at last," said Mrs. Thayer 
 with dignity, " that I may as well let the 
 matter drop."
 
 " PUNCHINELLO " 117 
 
 " You might have seen that at first, if 
 you had wished to," thought Lynn. 
 
 " I only hope you may never regret this." 
 
 " I hope so, too. By the way, I am going 
 to drop in at Estelle's for tea at five. A 
 lot of the girls are going there. Have you 
 any message? " 
 
 "None, whatever; but, as you are going 
 there, I trust that you will talk this matter 
 over with her. You could not have a better 
 confidante. Talk it over with her, won't 
 you?" 
 
 " I don't think it is necessary to promise 
 that," replied Lynn, wearily, " for she is 
 quite certain to talk it over with me, which 
 comes to the same thing in the end." 
 
 Mrs. Thayer compressed her lips and 
 continued to embroider. Lynn departed to 
 make some change in her toilet and, that 
 being concluded, left the house. Once on 
 the street her face changed and contracted 
 a little, making her look curiously older. 
 
 ' There are times," she said slowly, re- 
 garding the little terrier which gambolled 
 joyfully at her side, " there are times, Bob, 
 when I find the society of the four-legged 
 portion of humanity infinitely more con-
 
 n8 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 genial than that of the two-legged. This 
 is one of them. How I wish sometimes 
 that Aunt Lucy were dumb or I deaf! 
 How thankful I am that you can't talk 
 reason with me or advise me for my good 
 or do any other unpleasant thing of the 
 kind, Bob. If they only knew what they 
 were talking about ! if they only knew why 
 I can't marry Lighten or or anyone 
 else " She broke off, abruptly, biting 
 her lip as though in pain. " What's the use 
 of thinking?" she went on, presently. 
 " I've got to face Del and twenty other 
 women nearly as sharp in five minutes' 
 time and I can't show my feelings here 
 in this horrible street, either. Oh, to get 
 away from it all ! here, don't be a fool ! 
 You have about two minutes to pull your- 
 self together in, you weak, whining I'll 
 put it out of my mind, entirely. Whom 
 has Del asked, I wonder. If it's one of 
 those vile functions where you're wedged 
 tightly between layers of fat, stupid women 
 who gabble inanely and continuously and 
 spill ice-cream and coffee over your good 
 clothes, I'll never forgive her. No, she said 
 distinctly that it was just a few of the girls
 
 "PUNCHINELLO" 119 
 
 and she always tells the truth to me, if she 
 doesn't to anyone else. Oh, Del, Del! I 
 wonder if you are the right person to go 
 by. I wonder what you would say if I were 
 to tell you of all this miserable coil of de- 
 ception and misery. Of course I know 
 what you would say; you would say that 
 I was a fool and so I am; that wouldn't 
 help matters, much. What could you, or 
 anyone suggest? Nothing, nothing that 
 would be of any use; anyway, if I were 
 dying for advice, I am not free to obtain 
 it. If I had an unfailing fund of common 
 sense and a heart of stone what would I 
 do, I wonder? God knows. Being myself 
 I'll do what I'm doing and God grant it 
 can't last forever." She set her lips firmly 
 and walked along until she reached Pine 
 Avenue. 
 
 Pine Avenue lies at the foot of Mount 
 Royal and, in fact, is built upon its slope. 
 It is a broad, fine street and some of the 
 handsomest residences in Montreal are sit- 
 uated upon, or, rather, directly above it. 
 At all seasons of the year it is largely fre- 
 quented and, in winter, is a favourite haunt 
 of snowshoers and " skiers." At the pres-
 
 120 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 ent hour, however, it was practically de- 
 serted; and Lynn drew a long breath of 
 relief as, leaving the crowded city streets 
 behind, she sought its solitude. For some 
 little time she walked on in silence. 
 
 The golden January sun turned Mount 
 Royal into a mass of shining marble, flecked 
 with skeleton-like maples and crowned with 
 dark green pines. Beyond behind its 
 towering whiteness lay the dead of Mon- 
 treal. Lynn winced at the thought of them 
 and fiercely refused to let her thought dwell 
 on their impenetrable peace. 
 
 " I'm going to an At Home, Bob," she 
 said, half-aloud, trying to laugh. " There 
 will be about twenty other women there 
 and, in all probability, half of them are 
 wearing veils over their faces like the min- 
 ister in Hawthorne's story. ' I look around 
 me and lo! on every visage a black veil.' 
 Only people don't go in for black veils un- 
 less they're cowards; they go in for scarlet 
 and gold, which makes a far better disguise 
 and renders life more cheerful. What's the 
 use of making a fuss? Anyway, whatever 
 happens, whatever nasty knocks Fate may 
 hand me, there is one thing she can't do
 
 " PUNCHINELLO " 121 
 
 she can't make me whine." She threw 
 her head back and laughed; then called the 
 dog to her side and smiled as he licked her 
 gloved hand. 
 
 " Del doesn't like you, old boy," she said, 
 fondly. " But I'll hide you, somewhere, 
 and I won't stay any longer than I can 
 help. Ah! there's the house, already. It's 
 just as well. I don't feel like being alone, 
 to-day, more than I can help. I wonder 
 why it is that things seem so much worse 
 at some times than they do at others."
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 "JUST A FEW OF THE GIRLS" 
 
 " ' I must be my own Mamma/ said Becky." 
 
 Thackeray. 
 
 " She was clever, witty, brilliant and sparkling beyond most 
 of her kind but possessed of many devils of malice and mis- 
 chievousness. She could be nice, though, even to her own 
 sex. But that is another story." Kipling. 
 
 MRS. HADWELL'S home, whither 
 her friend, Miss Thayer, was 
 bound, contrived to be both home- 
 like and imposing. Situated on a slope of 
 the " mountain," as all loyal Montrealers 
 call Mount Royal, it commanded an unsur- 
 passed view of the city and harbour and 
 was surrounded by a picturesque garden, 
 unspoilt by overcultivation. In summer it 
 assumed an appearance of fairy-like charm: 
 and even when, as now, devoid of verdant 
 ornament and encompassed only by the 
 sighing branches of bare trees, it had an 
 appearance of creature comfort, oddly at 
 
 122
 
 "A FEW OF THE GIRLS" 123 
 
 variance with the bleak, snow-crowned hills 
 that rose behind it. Mount Royal, the 
 pride of every Montrealer, boasts many an- 
 other such home; but few combine dignity 
 and cosiness in the measure which Mrs. 
 Hadwell's did. 
 
 " Del's house is really awfully like her 
 in many ways," Lynn Thayer reflected as 
 she rang the bell. " It is so expensive and 
 in such good taste and so comfortable and 
 so cold is Mrs. Hadwell in, Ella? Yes, 
 I know she is, but see here ! can you smug- 
 gle Bob somewhere where he won't be in 
 the way of the girls ? You know Mrs. Had- 
 well doesn't like dogs." 
 
 She divested herself of some of her wraps 
 and crossed the hall. The perfume of roses 
 pervaded the air and the soft strain of 
 violins was faintly heard beneath the hub- 
 bub of voices as she made her way toward 
 the large old-fashioned drawing-room 
 whence the sounds of festivity proceeded. 
 This room, hung with crimson velvet and 
 panelled in dark oak, was almost sumptu- 
 ous in its comfort. Beautifully carved 
 Turkish lamps hung from the ceiling: a 
 splendid wood fire burned on the hearth:
 
 i2 4 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 great vases of dark red roses and carnations 
 were disposed wherever opportunity of- 
 fered: and, at the further end of the room, 
 one caught a delicious glimpse of cool green 
 ferns and various-coloured blooms. The 
 room was filled with daintily dressed girls 
 and young women: and behind a super- 
 latively dainty tea table sat the hostess who 
 hastily pushed aside a cream jug and 
 rushed in the direction of her latest guest. 
 
 " Help yourselves, girls," she exclaimed. 
 " I want to speak to Lynn. Why are you 
 so late, child? and where have you been, 
 lately? I haven't seen you for an age." 
 
 " Which, being interpreted, means four 
 days," said Lynn, laughing and returning 
 her hostess' kiss. " How lovely the rooms 
 look, Del! and what a sweet frock that is! 
 I do like you in mauve." 
 
 " I think it is rather successful," said 
 Mrs. Hadwell, contentedly: and both 
 women laughed. In their girlhood days 
 they had entered into a compact which 
 had ever since been observed faithfully; 
 namely, to tell no useless lies to one another. 
 " Only don't let us forget to tell them to 
 other people, Lynn," Mrs. Hadwell had re-
 
 "A FEW OF THE GIRLS" 125 
 
 marked, solemnly. " Don't let it get us 
 into bad habits." It had never got her into 
 bad habits: she had lied her way success- 
 fully into public esteem, riches and an old 
 man's heart; and, even on reaching the 
 giddy pinnacle of social success where rude- 
 ness is frequently condoned, she had faith- 
 fully followed the policy of telling the truth 
 only to her one intimate friend, Lynn 
 Thayer. 
 
 " Edie, do pour Lynn some tea," she cried, 
 now, turning to a pretty brown-eyed girl 
 who hovered near, watching her adoringly. 
 " And put piles and piles of cream in it and 
 five lumps or so of sugar that's the way 
 she likes it, the incomprehensible creature! 
 . . . Another of those sickening debu- 
 tantes," she observed in a confidential un- 
 dertone, turning to Lynn and gently pro- 
 pelling her in the direction of a couch, 
 "simply worships me, you know! follows 
 me around like a dog and that's right, 
 dear! how sweet of you to save me the 
 trouble! now get her an Italian cream and 
 a nice cake, will you? like an angel! I 
 don't know what I shall do if it keeps up: 
 you know I can't bear bread and butter
 
 126 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 misses and she actually asked me for a lock 
 of my hair the other day. I felt like telling 
 her that I paid eighty dollars for my switch 
 in New York and that my own hair was 
 too precious to oh, thank you, dear! 
 Lynn, this is the sweetest girl; she saves 
 me all sorts of trouble and her name is Miss 
 Roland; Edie, this is my friend, Miss 
 Thayer, of whom you have often heard me 
 speak oh, dear! there are all the girls 
 coming up to speak to you, Lynn, and any- 
 way I ought to go and pour out some more 
 tea. When you have done the polite, do 
 come and keep me company at the tea- 
 table." 
 
 " Little Mrs. Hadwell," as her friends 
 usually called her, fled, casting a bewitch- 
 ing smile at the group of girls who were 
 clustering about Lynn. Estelle Hadwell's 
 teeth were her strong point, a fact which 
 she never, for an instant, lost sight of. She 
 had no complexion worth terming such, her 
 features were irregular and her figure de- 
 cidedly angular. Yet she contrived to be 
 considered a beauty, as any woman can who 
 has time and money to devote to her ap- 
 pearance.
 
 "A FEW OF THE GIRLS" 127 
 
 Lynn watched her curiously as she set- 
 tled herself at the tea-table with a coquet- 
 tish little flirt of her silken skirts, and mar- 
 velled anew at the unconscious dramatic 
 instinct which enabled this tiny creature to 
 play the role of a beauty with such unfail- 
 ing success. As " Little Mrs. Hadwell " sat 
 pouring the tea with one pretty arm grace- 
 fully raised, she was a vision for an artist. 
 Her mauve gown fell about her petite form 
 in folds that were almost statuesque in 
 their grace: her beautiful hair which 
 looked just as beautiful as though it had 
 not grown on an Irish housemaid's head 
 was arranged with such taste as to make 
 her small head a thing of beauty: her really 
 pretty neck and arms were set off by a 
 fichu and falling cuffs of rich yellow lace. 
 A cluster of violets was carelessly tucked 
 in the front of her fichu: and a long chain 
 of amethysts outlined her slender waist 
 which had hardly been so slender, had it 
 not been for the skill and strength of her 
 French maid. Altogether, as she sat there, 
 Lynn recognized for the fiftieth time 
 and with precisely the same sense of won- 
 der that, in spite of Estelle's entire lack
 
 128 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 of beauty, she was the daintiest and most 
 fascinating thing, imaginable. 
 
 Among the girls who surrounded Lynn 
 were several whose beauty was sufficiently 
 apparent to make them noticeable, any- 
 where. Edith Roland, the adoring debu- 
 tante, had big, brown eyes, a pretty colour 
 and a figure whose slenderness and grace 
 owed nothing to artificial aid; yet, beside 
 her diminutive hostess she sank into insig- 
 nificance. Erma Reed was a beautiful girl, 
 tall, splendidly proportioned with the fea- 
 tures of a Greek statue and the air of a 
 grand dame; but, after the first admiration 
 which her almost flawless pulchritude pro- 
 voked, one's eyes wandered instinctively to 
 the sinuous figure and piquante, appealing 
 face of Mrs. Hadwell. " Magnetism that 
 is the only word for it, I suppose," thought 
 Lynn. " Yet she didn't always have it as 
 she has it now. Can that sort of thing be 
 cultivated, I wonder?" 
 
 ' Lynn, we never see you, now," declared 
 Joan Cadding, one of her friends. " What's 
 the reason? " 
 
 " Old age, laziness and lots to do. At 
 twenty-eight one can't be always gad-
 
 "A FEW OF THE GIRLS" 129 
 
 ding. Besides, a teacher must keep early 
 hours." 
 
 " Oh, aged one, it is not so many years 
 since a certain teacher was out every night 
 in the week until one or two o'clock and 
 absolutely refused even to lie down for half 
 an hour when she left school at three. Mrs. 
 Thayer used to say to mother, ' Really, 
 Lynn must have the constitution of a horse; 
 she comes home from school, skates for an 
 hour, rushes into calling costume and drops 
 into a dozen things before dinner: then, 
 as soon as that is over, prepares for a dance 
 or a tobogganing party.' ' 
 
 " As you say, I was a few years younger, 
 Joan." " 
 
 " But why have you given everything up 
 so? You can't complain of being shelved. 
 Why, at the only dance where I've met you 
 this winter your card was filled to over- 
 flowing before you had been in the room 
 five minutes. You certainly can't worry 
 about lack of attention." 
 
 " No, I have no beauty to fade and no 
 youthful fascinations to take wing, so the 
 people who liked me ten years ago are just 
 as apt to like me, now."
 
 i 3 o THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 " Then why do you slip out of things 
 so? Even Del says she never sees you." 
 
 " Del means that I don't live here as I 
 used to. I see her three or four times a 
 week: any one but Del would be sick of 
 me. But, seriously, girls, this idea of com- 
 bining public school teacher and society girl 
 isn't the best in the world. As far as I 
 know, I am the only woman who has ever 
 done it successfully for years and I'm get- 
 ting tired of it. And that reminds me! 
 Do you want to hear a good story? I went 
 to a man-tea at Mrs. Dean-Everill's the 
 other day you see I'm not altogether a 
 hermit yet and I met a Mrs. Howden 
 there a very common woman with 
 money. No one else wanted to talk to her 
 and she seemed a good-natured soul and 
 anxious to be affable, so I sacrificed myself 
 as usual. She simply beamed on me till, 
 in the course of conversation, it transpired 
 that I taught from nine to three five days 
 out of the seven. Then she froze: suddenly 
 and completely did she freeze: and took the 
 earliest opportunity of sidling away from 
 my contaminating presence. A little later 
 on I was talking to some of the other peo-
 
 "A FEW OF THE GIRLS" 131 
 
 pie when Dick Ashe, who has just returned 
 from Europe, you know, rushed up to me 
 and said in his usual boisterous way, ' Oh, 
 Miss Thayer, you should see the lovely pin 
 that your cousin, Lord Haviland, has en- 
 trusted to me for you/ I caught sight of 
 the woman's face; she looked like a devo- 
 tee who had unwittingly slapped a seraph. 
 I felt so sorry for her that I hastened to 
 murmur, ' Oh, Harry's only my third 
 cousin, you know!' but even that didn't 
 seem to wipe the tortured look from her 
 fat face. Think what it must be to a social 
 climber to have snubbed an earl's third 
 cousin." 
 
 In the burst of laughter and talk which 
 followed this, only Mrs. Hadwell noticed 
 that Lynn had made a definite effort to turn 
 the course of conversation from discussion 
 of herself. 
 
 ' Well," said Agatha Ladilaw in her 
 flute-like voice, " I don't see what is amus- 
 ing you all so. It couldn't have been very 
 pleasant for Mrs. What's-her-name to think 
 that she had been rude to an earl's third 
 cousin: and, on the other hand, if Lynn 
 were an ordinary teacher you couldn't
 
 132 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 expect her to be treated in the same 
 way.'* 
 
 "Why not?" asked some one. Lynn 
 merely laughed and looked at the first 
 speaker with covert yet kindly mirth. 
 
 " I don't see why you laugh," said Aga- 
 tha, with soft stubbornness. 
 
 " Why, you see, Agatha," said Lynn, 
 looking at her thoughtfully, " this Mrs. 
 Howden liked me till she found I was a 
 teacher. Then she couldn't endure my so- 
 ciety till it transpired that I was related 
 to an earl. Then she loved me once more." 
 
 "And why shouldn't she?" asked Aga- 
 tha, lifting her lovely lashes. " Earls are 
 not so common." 
 
 " Not so common as snobs, no. Still hav- 
 ing an earl for a cousin is no reason why 
 people should like one." 
 
 '' But you see, Lynn, it is a reason. You 
 say, yourself, that she liked you as soon as 
 she found it out." 
 
 Lynn abandoned argument. 
 
 " She liked me in the first place, too," 
 she said, laughing. 
 
 " Oh, but then she didn't know you were 
 a teacher," Agatha explained, very sensibly.
 
 "A FEW OF THE GIRLS" 133 
 
 " She liked me until I was found out, in 
 other words." 
 
 " Exactly," said Agatha, pleased to find 
 that her logic had penetrated. " It often 
 happens so. Look at that young Italian 
 with the lovely eyes who wrote the mag- 
 nificent poetry that you weren't allowed to 
 read! and had to smuggle into the dormi- 
 tory at night after the lights were out! 
 Now everybody raved about him until they 
 found that he took opium and drank." 
 
 "And then they promptly dropped him: 
 just as this Mrs. Howden did Lynn, when 
 she found that she taught. It's an exactly 
 parallel case," agreed Mrs. Hadwell, look- 
 ing straight at Lynn with a perfectly inno- 
 cent face and inwardly wondering how her 
 friend could preserve such a stony impene- 
 trability of countenance. 
 
 " Certainly it is," said Agatha, trium- 
 phantly, " except that of course it's wicked 
 to drink and it's quite respectable to teach. 
 But it comes to the same thing in the end." 
 
 " So many things do," said Lynn with a 
 little laugh. " Still, Agatha, it's not neces- 
 sarily wickedness that makes people drink. 
 Some people drink in the same way that
 
 134 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 they breathe because to stop would be 
 to die or to go mad." 
 
 ' What unpleasant people," said Agatha, 
 virtuously. " I'm glad I'm not like that. 
 Still, even if I were I'm sure that I could 
 stop it I can't understand people being 
 so weak. And, speaking of that Ricossia 
 whatever became of him? He was so 
 wicked and he did look so nice in evening 
 clothes. I used to be awfully gone on him 
 and so were all the girls in the Sixth. It 
 wasn't because he was wicked, you know," 
 she added hastily. 
 
 "No, indeed; the wickedness of Beelze- 
 bub would have availed him nothing if he 
 hadn't also been decorative in evening 
 clothes. Agatha, don't you want this lit- 
 tle chocolate cake with the nut in the 
 top?" 
 
 Agatha did: and she also wanted some 
 information on the subject of Ricossia. 
 
 " Why are you so determined not to talk 
 about him? He was your protege from the 
 start. You took him up you and Mr. 
 Amherst I don't believe he would ever 
 have been so popular and run after if you 
 hadn't started it."
 
 "A FEW OF THE GIRLS" 135 
 
 "Yes, what has become of that boy?" 
 queried Mrs. Hadwell with sudden interest. 
 " Of course he has gone to the dogs, we all 
 know that: but what particular dogs and 
 where? " 
 
 " I am not his keeper," answered Lynn, 
 lightly. " Do you know that it's about time 
 Heft, Del?" 
 
 "Oh, no!" cried Mrs. Hadwell, starting 
 up. ' You mustn't. Why, you don't even 
 know why I asked you to come here, this 
 afternoon: you simply must stay long 
 enough to hear that." 
 
 " Well, I'll stay five minutes " 
 
 " Very well, five minutes ! " returned Mrs. 
 Hadwell, who knew quite well how long a 
 period of time five minutes can cover. 
 " Now, girls, attend ! You knew that Hen- 
 ry's brother Carl settled in the States and 
 that he has a grown-up family. Well, the 
 third child is twins I mean the third chil- 
 dren are twins well, never mind! what's 
 the use of explaining when you all know 
 what I mean, anyway. The point is that 
 I've invited them one and all to visit me, 
 every year: but they've consistently re- 
 fused because the brother is indignant at
 
 i 3 6 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 Henry's marrying a young wife, just when 
 they had quite come to count on getting 
 his money. These twins, however, seem to 
 have a mind between them they're only 
 nineteen, too, I believe very young to 
 have a mind, even if it is only half a one 
 and they have written with gusto, ac- 
 cepting my invitation and telling me that 
 they're dying to see something of the Cana- 
 dian sports. Now, as you know, I've no 
 taste for sports and I thought some of you 
 might help me out. They are only going 
 to be here for a week or so, as they both 
 go to college, and I want to give them what 
 our American friends call ' a real good 
 time/ I have thought of several of the 
 ordinary things a tea for the girls and 
 a bridge the night after they arrive: and a 
 little later on, I am going to give a fancy 
 dress ball yes, consider yourselves all in- 
 vited but I thought it would be nice if 
 I got a few of you girls together and or- 
 ganized some parties for tobogganing and 
 ice-boating and so on." 
 
 " Don't forget the Conquerors-Wales 
 hockey match." 
 
 "No, detestable thing! they'll want to
 
 "A FEW OF THE GIRLS" 137 
 
 see that, I suppose. I can't stand hockey. 
 Lynn, you're not going?" 
 
 " I must. It's getting very late." 
 
 "Oh, nonsense!" cried Mrs. Hadwell, 
 piteously: and at that moment, the clang 
 of the doorbell, followed by the advent of 
 a fresh visitor, seemed to give the lie to 
 Miss Thayer's assertion. 
 
 " Mrs. Langham-Greene ! Lynn, forgive 
 me. I swear I didn't ask her," murmured 
 the hostess: then glided forward eagerly. 
 
 " So glad to see you. What good genius 
 prompted you to drop in this particular 
 afternoon? All the girls have done the 
 same. (And if that doesn't pacify her," re- 
 flected the ingenuous hostess, " nothing 
 will.") 
 
 The newcomer laughed, a pretty, soft, 
 disagreeable laugh, and glanced about her. 
 
 " So I see," she rejoined, smoothly. " We 
 old married women will have to entertain 
 one another. These young girls," her 
 glance wandered from Lynn Thayer to two 
 or three others and she smiled thought- 
 fully, " these young girls have their own 
 topics of conversation." 
 
 "Now that," said Mrs. Hadwell to her-
 
 i 3 8 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 self with unwilling admiration, " is neat, 
 distinctly neat. Insult to me, insult to my 
 best friend and insult to half a dozen of 
 my guests and all in one short breath. 
 Lynn, you're not going? " she added, aloud. 
 
 " I am indeed. Bob will be wondering 
 what's become of me." 
 
 "Bob I You didn't bring him here? " 
 
 " I did, Del. You know I'm away all 
 day and Aunt Lucy never takes him out. 
 Poor little fellow! it's pathetic, the way he 
 greets me when I get home." 
 
 " Miss Thayer is such an attractive per- 
 son, isn't she?" murmured Mrs. Langham- 
 Greene with a peculiar gleam in her lazy 
 cat-like eyes. " She has such a fascination 
 for dogs and cats." 
 
 ' You, Mrs. Langham-Greene," returned 
 Lynn with equal sweetness, " can have no 
 idea how nice it is to be able to fascinate 
 something." 
 
 With that, she left. Mrs. Hadwell was 
 delighted with the Parthian shot and indig- 
 nant at Mrs. Langham-Greene's impudence 
 in classing herself with her hostess under 
 the title of " old married women." She 
 therefore launched forth into a eulogy of
 
 "A FEW OF THE GIRLS" 139 
 
 her absent friend which, judging from ap- 
 pearances, went far to spoil the elegant 
 widow's enjoyment of her cup of tea. 
 
 " Lynn is such a favourite with men, 
 too," she concluded. 
 
 " Really," rejoined the green-eyed siren, 
 carelessly. " But girls who teach do age 
 so rapidly, don't you think so, Mrs. Had- 
 well? and they are apt to become soured 
 and to mistake rudeness for repartee." 
 
 " A mistake that is frequently made," 
 said Mrs. Hadwell, inwardly furious. 
 " But, when one has such a clever tongue 
 as Lynn, don't you think one is apt to take 
 advantage of duller people than one's self? " 
 Agatha broke in. 
 
 ; * Isn't it funny, Mrs. Hadwell, how Lynn 
 never will talk about Mr. Ricossia? She 
 used to like him so much. And I am sure 
 she must know what has become of him." 
 
 " Dreadful creature ! " purred Mrs. Lang- 
 ham-Greene, arching her delicate eyebrows. 
 " Your friend wasn't really infatuated with 
 him, was she, Mrs. Hadwell? People do 
 talk so." 
 
 "Don't they?" assented Mrs. Hadwell, 
 looking grieved. " I daresay even you and
 
 i 4 o THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 I don't escape. Poor Lynn presumed on 
 her twenty-eight years and her plain face 
 to take a sisterly interest in an eccentric 
 genius, little more than a child in years; and 
 people immediately assume that she must 
 be in love with him. So absurd! As if a 
 girl who oh, they are all going! what a 
 shame! How I wish you had dropped in a 
 little sooner, Mrs. Langham-Greene. We've 
 had a delightful chat but such a short one! "
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 "A FIN-DE-SIECLE PAIR" 
 
 " I have seen Hayes argue with a tough horse I have 
 seen a tonga driver coerce a stubborn pony I have seen a 
 riotous setter broken to gun by a hard keeper but the 
 breaking-in of Pluffles . . . was beyond all these." 
 
 Kipling. 
 
 BUT, Henry, you should be glad to 
 see your brother's children." 
 " I don't see why. A pair of 
 young ragamuffins who'll pull the house 
 about my ears." 
 
 " My dear Henry ! They're nineteen/' 
 
 " Worse and worse ! The boy will be 
 certain to fall in love with you." 
 
 " Do you think so? " asked Mrs. Hadwell, 
 eagerly. 
 
 " I think it won't be your fault if he 
 doesn't," responded her husband with acer- 
 bity. 
 
 " Well, at all events the girl won't fall in 
 love with you," said Mrs. Hadwell with a 
 twinkle in her eye.
 
 i 4 ? THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 Her spouse grunted something unintelli- 
 gible. 
 
 " Not if she sees you with that expres- 
 sion on your face," went on Mrs. Hadwell, 
 rather sadly. :( It always seems so strange 
 to me that a man of your experience and 
 charm a finished man of the world, in 
 other words should give way to these 
 useless moods." 
 
 Mr. Hadwell's brow slightly cleared in 
 spite of his efforts to hide the fact. 
 
 " If I had seen when I first met you," 
 went on Mrs. Hadwell in chastened accents, 
 " that, beneath the mask of courtly polite- 
 ness and delicate flattery, you concealed the 
 nature of a gloomy tyrant " 
 
 "Da I mean, confound it all!" said 
 Mr. Hadwell, much affected, " what on 
 earth do you want, Estelle? " 
 
 " Why, I'm afraid I don't quite under- 
 stand you," said Mrs. Hadwell, raising her 
 pretty eyebrows in pained surprise. 
 
 " My dear little girl, you know I am not 
 a tyrant," said Mr. Hadwell, miserable at 
 the thought of being so misunderstood, yet, 
 at the same time, secretly delighted at the 
 reference to his " courtly politeness." His
 
 "A FIN-DE-SIECLE PAIR" 143 
 
 delight was natural when one considers the 
 fact that, at no time of his life, had his man- 
 ners surpassed those of an average groom. 
 
 " No perhaps not," said Mrs. Hadwell, 
 softly. " Yet, Henry, there are times when 
 when " 
 
 "When what, darling?" inquired Mr. 
 Hadwell, abjectly. 
 
 "When," said Mrs. Hadwell with sor- 
 rowful dignity, " when, Henry, I am actu- 
 ally afraid to ask you for the little extra 
 money which will provide for the entertain- 
 ment of your brother's children." 
 
 "Must they be so much entertained?" 
 asked Mr. Hadwell, humbly yet uneasily. 
 He was a kind old man, but the prospect 
 of parting with a dollar never failed to 
 cause him acute agony. 
 
 ' They need not be entertained," re- 
 sponded Mrs. Hadwell with feeling. 
 ' Those unfortunate children may come 
 here and stay with us three weeks and 
 return to Ohio to tell their father and 
 mother that the woman who has deprived 
 them of their uncle's fortune, grudges them 
 a ball or a" She wept: and Mr. Had- 
 well writhed in agony. There were only
 
 144 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 two things in life that he really loved: 
 his big income and his small wife. Of the 
 two, he really preferred his wife: and after 
 a few moments' silent struggle, he suc- 
 cumbed to her tears and her fascinations 
 and drew out his cheque book. 
 
 "How much?" he inquired, hardily. 
 
 Little Mrs. Hadwell dried her eyes. 
 
 "How much?" she inquired, innocently. 
 " How mu oh, Henry ! were you thinking 
 of giving me some money?" 
 
 Mr. Hadwell regarded her with perplex- 
 ity. 
 
 "Isn't that what you wanted?" he in- 
 quired looking puzzled. 
 
 Mrs. Hadwell buried her eighty-dollar 
 head in her pretty hands. 
 
 " I wanted you to show some interest in 
 these children your own brother's chil- 
 dren ! " she wept. " And you offer me 
 money! " 
 
 Mr. Hadwell groaned, feeling that he 
 was a tactless brute yet not quite seeing 
 why. Suddenly a bright thought struck 
 him: he tore out a blank cheque, signed it 
 and tossed it playfully to his wife. 
 
 "There, there!" he observed, soothingly.
 
 "A FIN-DE-SIECLE PAIR" 145 
 
 " Don't cry any more, Estelle. Of course 
 these children must be entertained of 
 course I am pleased about their coming. 
 But, you see, we business men have so much 
 to worry us." 
 
 Mr. Hadwell's business consisted in driv- 
 ing to his office every morning, receiving 
 the obsequious greetings of his manager 
 and drawing his handsome income. Mrs. 
 Hadwell knew this as well better than 
 he did therefore 
 
 " Of course," she cooed, drying her eyes 
 and regarding her spouse with mingled awe 
 and wonder. " Of course, dear. You must 
 forgive me if I seem a little unreasonable, 
 sometimes; but it did hurt me so when you 
 seemed to think that all I wanted from you 
 was money " 
 
 "Of course of course!" said her hus- 
 band, hastily. " Now I must be off. What 
 are you going to do, to-day? " 
 
 'Well, let me see! Lynn is coming to 
 dinner and we are going for a drive first." 
 
 " Ah ! " said Mr. Hadwell, looking pleased. 
 He heartily approved of Lynn and took 
 great pleasure in the thought that this ex- 
 ceptionally " nice " young woman was his
 
 146 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 wife's best friend; feeling that Estelle's 
 evident devotion to Lynn overbalanced her 
 quite as evident love of flattery and atten- 
 tion. Mr. Hadwell never forgot that Lynn 
 insisted on teaching in the public schools 
 rather than allow her uncle to support her, 
 wholly: a piece of unselfishness that went 
 straight to his heart. Needless to say, he 
 did not know that Estelle had talked him 
 over with Lynn from every point of view, 
 both before and after his marriage to the 
 former. 
 
 Estelle Harding had been the grand- 
 daughter of a wealthy man who had died 
 when she was sixteen, leaving her penni- 
 less. For the next five years she had lived 
 with different relatives, positively refusing 
 to follow the example of her friend, Lynn 
 Thayer, who was preparing at the High 
 and Normal schools, to earn her living as 
 a teacher. Being tremendously popular 
 both with girls and boys, she was deluged 
 with invitations and love affairs; but at 
 twenty-one, she met Mr. Hadwell, a 
 wealthy and retiring bachelor of sixty- 
 three, and, from that time on, she paid as- 
 siduous and tactful court to him. The net
 
 "A FIN-DE-SIECLE PAIR" 147 
 
 result of this campaign was that, in six 
 months from the time she had first met 
 him, Mr. Hadwell was a married man. It 
 speaks well for our small heroine's tactics 
 that her husband, to his dying day, be- 
 lieved that he had fallen madly in love with 
 her when he saw her first and that nothing 
 but his overpowering fascinations had in- 
 duced the shy damsel to become his wife. 
 ' You were the first man who had ever 
 cared for me/' Estelle would say to him, 
 sometimes. " The others oh, they were 
 just boys! I couldn't look up to them, dear: 
 they were on a level with myself." This 
 was a particularly tactful lie on Mrs. Had- 
 well's part: she knew well that among her 
 admirers had been young men whose intel- 
 lect and strength of character had far sur- 
 passed her husband's. But tactful lying 
 was Mrs. Hadwell's forte. 
 
 Many and varied were the comments on 
 Miss Harding's engagement. "Little cat! 
 how clever she is," said some. The ma- 
 jority, however, murmured feelingly, " So 
 glad that sweet girl will have her reward." 
 
 " That sweet girl " had had her reward. 
 All that she cared for in life money, so-
 
 148 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 cial position, unlimited flattery and envy 
 were hers without stint. And, much as I 
 hate to grieve the moralists, Estelle Had- 
 well was a supremely happy and contented 
 woman. If she had been childless it is pos- 
 sible that her lot might, at times, have 
 palled on her: but two pretty, healthy chil- 
 dren occupied what little heart she had. 
 Her husband, though in a vague way proud 
 of his children's beauty and brightness, 
 cared little for them: what heart he had 
 was occupied by his wife who played upon 
 his affections with the hand of a practised 
 artist. 
 
 She let the cheque lie by her plate, now, 
 as she rose and kissed her better half, affec- 
 tionately. 
 
 ' What a delightful visit those dear twins 
 will have, thanks to your generosity," she 
 said, smiling at him, affectionately. 
 
 Mr. Hadwell waved a patronizing dis- 
 claimer. 
 
 " Oh, I shall be glad to do what I can 
 for Carl's children," he said, magnificently. 
 
 ' That is so like you, dear," returned his 
 simple little wife, gently. 
 
 She was giggling softly to herself over
 
 "A FIN-DE-SIECLE PAIR" 149 
 
 this conversation in the afternoon as she 
 pinned an expensive little hat over her still 
 more expensive tresses. " I really do think 
 I am cleverer than most women," she 
 mused. " I get just what I want and I 
 never hurt the dear old thing's feelings." 
 She was really fond of her husband whose 
 absorption in her satisfied her vanity and 
 whose jealousy served to render life inter- 
 esting. When Lynn Thayer arrived she 
 entered into a long and detailed account of 
 her morning's work, ending by triumph- 
 antly displaying the cheque. Lynn laughed, 
 unwillingly. 
 
 "I do hate that sort of thing, Estelle," 
 she said. ''' I know you're awfully clever 
 at getting your own way, but I can never 
 understand why you don't get Mr. Had- 
 well to allow you a certain sum, monthly. 
 Then you wouldn't have to stoop to this 
 sort of thing." 
 
 " Oh, but I like stooping," said Estelle, 
 placidly. " And, besides, if I knew just 
 how much I was going to get every month 
 it would be awfully tame. You haven't a 
 bit of the gambler in you, Lynn." 
 
 " Not a particle."
 
 i5o THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 " Then there's another side to the ques- 
 tion. If Henry had to make me an allow- 
 ance he would only allow for necessities. 
 For instance, if I wanted to run down to 
 New York for a week or two it would have 
 to come out of my dress allowance. That 
 would be horrid. Oh, I had such a time 
 getting a few hundred dollars out of him 
 the last time I went. He wrangled over 
 every detail actually wanted me to stay 
 in the suburbs because hotels were cheaper 
 there, quite forgetting that my fare in and 
 out would amount to something. As I said 
 to him, ' I suppose I could walk to the 
 ferry it's only twenty miles or so each 
 way and exercise is good for one but I 
 really couldn't walk across the water; I'm 
 not quite divine yet ! ' 
 
 "You absurd child! What did he say to 
 that?" 
 
 " Oh, he mumbled something to the effect 
 that I ought to be a Christian Scientist. 
 That was meant as a joke. He always jokes 
 when he feels ashamed. So I said, ' Yes, 
 if I were a Christian Scientist I could walk 
 over anything, yourself included; but be- 
 cause I am only your poor, stupid, little
 
 "A FIN-DE-SIECLE PAIR" 151 
 
 wife, I must humbly beg you for money 
 for this little trip.' Then he tried to be 
 pompous, the way he always does when I 
 pretend to knuckle down. He said, ' If I 
 don't want you to go to New York, that 
 ought to be enough for any well-regulated 
 wife/ And I said, ' You dear old stupid! 
 I'm not a well-regulated wife. Don't be 
 so ridiculous. Anyone would think I was 
 a watch to hear you talk!' Then I looked 
 cute and rolled my eyes at him and he 
 caved right in. Dear me, Lynn, what a pity 
 it is I can't bestow some of my superfluous 
 cleverness on you. Your aunt tells me that 
 you are positively discouraging Mr. Ligh- 
 ton. You must be mad." 
 
 " I am mad thoroughly mad about the 
 whole business. Why in the world should 
 I marry this man simply because he asks 
 me? Really, I have been so advised and 
 dictated to and badgered about him that 
 now the very thought of his face makes me 
 feel angry." 
 
 "Then why do you think of his face?' 1 
 inquired Mrs. Hadwell, opening her grey 
 eyes, innocently. " Why don't you forget 
 about his face and think about his figure
 
 152 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 at the bank? That is what any sensible 
 girl would do." 
 
 Lynn groaned. " I'm not a sensible girl, 
 unfortunately," she said. " Now, Del, if 
 you're going for a drive before dinner you 
 had better hurry." 
 
 "Very well. I'm ready. Dear me! I 
 must just see Mrs. Waite before we go and 
 tell her to have dinner at seven. Oh, Lynn! 
 that woman is such a comfort to me. She's 
 a regular automaton, knows how every- 
 thing in the house should be done and 
 does it! Of course she is absolutely heart- 
 less, but what are you giggling at? Oh, 
 my dear, I may not be particularly intense 
 or passionate, but I assure you I am a vol- 
 cano beside Mrs. Waite. She doesn't care 
 for the children, she doesn't even care for 
 me. Now you know there must be some- 
 thing radically wrong with any one who 
 doesn't care for me I may have my faults, 
 but no one can deny that I am the most 
 fascinating person! and in her case it is 
 the stranger as she is a decayed gentle- 
 woman and I have gone out of my way to 
 show her kindness. Why, I even asked her 
 to dine with Henry and me once when we
 
 "A FIN-DE-SIECLE PAIR" 153 
 
 had people who knew her coming to din- 
 ner: and she looked at me with her Me- 
 dusa-like countenance and refused. But as 
 a housekeeper she is a jewel and, as long 
 as she runs my house like clockwork, I can 
 excuse her lack of geniality. Here she is. 
 Oh, Mrs. Waite, will you tell Sarah to put 
 off dinner till eight. I am going out with 
 Miss Thayer. By the way, you don't know 
 Miss Thayer, do you? Miss Thayer, Mrs. 
 Waite. Don't forget about dinner. 
 
 "There, isn't she a Gorgon, Lynn? She 
 is always just like that neat, accurate, 
 frigid, freezing. Ugh! What a lovely day 
 for a drive, isn't it? I'm going to Mr. 
 Amherst's to take a look at my portrait. 
 It is going to be so nice and I want you 
 to see it. I am sure it will be hung in the 
 Art Gallery at the Spring Exhibition. 
 What a nice man he is, isn't he? By the 
 way, speaking of Mrs. Waite, I am going 
 to tell you why I always make a point of 
 introducing her to all my friends and hav- 
 ing things just as pleasant for her as pos- 
 sible. It's because she's like that much- 
 talked-of 'skeleton at the feast'; she's a 
 perpetual reminder to me of how lucky I
 
 i54 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 am. I wish you would compare us and 
 take a lesson, my friend. I'm the bright 
 example, she's the awful warning. I might 
 have been just where she is to-day if I 
 hadn't had my wits about me. She might 
 be where I am if she had made the most 
 of her opportunities. Don't waste time tell- 
 ing me that she's plain and uninteresting. 
 I would be plain if I didn't dress properly 
 and eat good food and take good care of 
 myself; and, as for 'interesting,' every 
 woman is interesting to a man if she im- 
 presses him as being sensible and wom- 
 anly that is, if she enjoys his conversa- 
 tion and tells him that she likes dusting. 
 Every man likes a woman who is fond of 
 dusting. I don't know why. And, as for 
 sweeping, there is no surer passport to a 
 man's affections than to tell him that you 
 sweep out your own room every morning. 
 It never fails to have the desired effect. It 
 doesn't matter if the man is a multi-million- 
 aire with an army of housemaids and foot- 
 men; he still thinks it is womanly and do- 
 mestic to sweep. If I ever found my hold 
 on Henry's affections becoming a trifle 
 slack, I should immediately start sweeping."
 
 "A FIN-DE-SIECLE PAIR" 155 
 
 " Del, I don't think I ever met anyone 
 who could talk more nonsense than you, in 
 a given space of time." 
 
 "Nonsense! Oh, Lynn, if I could only 
 get you to understand that what I am say- 
 ing, although delivered as if it were the 
 merest airy persiflage, is the soundest com- 
 mon sense. If you want to be admired and 
 respected by the male sex sweep! Or, 
 if you don't like sweeping, don't sweep; 
 but talk about sweeping as if it were the 
 one thing that you doted on; convey the 
 impression that you would rather sweep 
 than go motoring any day. The man in 
 question may have thought you a charming 
 girl before, but, after that, his feelings will 
 take a deeper tinge; you will advance in 
 his mind to the status of a womanly 
 woman. Delicious! Instead of these lec- 
 tures girls are always attending at Y. W. C. 
 A.'s and colleges, about Browning and the 
 Pyramids and the condition of the poor 
 and the prevalence of frivolity, what a pity 
 it is they can't attend lectures given by 
 some past-master in the art of flirting 
 such as I, for instance! Wouldn't those 
 lectures be crowded, though; that is, if
 
 156 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 girls knew what was good for them. And 
 here you have all the advantages of a pri- 
 vate course of instruction and you won't 
 take the trouble to learn the first rules of 
 the game. Ah, the golden words of wisdom 
 wasted! the opportunities lost. Ah me!" 
 
 " Del, I strongly object to your speaking 
 as though I had no opportunities. Haven't 
 I always at least one person who wants 
 to marry me? even though I do tell the 
 truth occasionally?" 
 
 " You have. But that's by good luck, 
 not by management. You might have 
 twenty if you exerted yourself properly." 
 
 " You make me feel as though I were a 
 sort of derelict. It's a horrid feeling." 
 
 " If I succeed in making you feel a dere- 
 lict I have succeeded beyond my wildest 
 expectations. Don't you know, my dear 
 child, that you are experiencing in a faint 
 degree what you will experience all your 
 life if you don't hurry up and settle your- 
 self. Don't you know that for the next 
 fifty years you will, not only feel, but be a 
 derelict if you don't accept Lighton and 
 marry him before he changes his mind." 
 
 " Thank goodness, this drive can't last
 
 "A FIN-DE-SIECLE PAIR" 157 
 
 forever," exclaimed Lynn, laughing. " Oth- 
 erwise I should be compelled to get out and 
 walk. You are perfectly unendurable some- 
 times, Del, and this is certainly one of the 
 times." 
 
 " I'm going to be unendurable again and 
 to better purpose, I hope, a little later on," 
 said Mrs. Hadwell, darkly. " But now I 
 suppose we'll have to descend or ascend, 
 if you like it better from practical life to 
 pictures. Mr. Amherst paints well, doesn't 
 he? And what a nice man he is. I don't 
 know anyone who doesn't like him, do 
 you?" 
 
 " No, I don't think I do. He's nice and 
 very popular." 
 
 " And a great friend of yours too, isn't 
 he? I haven't heard you speak of him, 
 lately. I thought at one time " 
 
 "Oh, Del, do think of something else!" 
 exclaimed Lynn a little crossly. " Men, 
 men, men and marriage, marriage, mar- 
 riage! Do let us think and talk of some- 
 thing else." 
 
 " Very well, my dear, we'll talk of my- 
 self. I wanted to get up a flirtation with 
 Mr. Amherst this winter and he didn't seem
 
 158 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 to respond at all. So I immediately thought 
 that he must be interested in someone else 
 and, as he was always calling on you, nat- 
 urally I thought " 
 
 " Men again!" 
 
 " Not men but a man. Don't you per- 
 ceive the delicate distinction? Well, as I 
 was saying, Mr. Amherst didn't seem a bit 
 interested in me, charming though I am 
 and was what a mercy old Tom is stone 
 deaf! and I was extremely puzzled. I 
 didn't like to be too pointed in my atten- 
 tions " 
 
 " I do wish, Del, that you wouldn't talk 
 in that way. It sets my teeth on edge to 
 hear a married woman speak in the way 
 you do. Why don't you " 
 
 " Stay at home and attend to my house 
 and children? So I do; but not being al- 
 together a fossil yet I want to do some- 
 thing else at times. Isn't that natural at 
 my age? " 
 
 " Quite natural at your age, and there is 
 just the weak point of a marriage like 
 yours. If you had married somebody you 
 really cared about, other men wouldn't in- 
 terest you."
 
 "A FIN-DE-SIECLE PAIR" 159 
 
 " Not for the first year or so, no. After 
 that, they would. I might not like them 
 so well as I did my husband, but I should 
 like them and want them to like me. Yes, 
 and I should want them to fall in love with 
 me, too, so long as they didn't tell me 
 about it and insist on making unpleasant 
 scenes. Of course, in that case, they would 
 go, just as they do, now. You know that, 
 Lynn." 
 
 " Yes, I know that. You are very care- 
 ful, Del. I suppose it is all right and quite 
 harmless in its way, but I can't say that I 
 approve of it. What is the sense of having 
 two or three men always sighing around 
 because they can't marry you? " 
 
 "What's the sense of music or flowers 
 or strawberry tarts? I like them and they 
 agree with me. You know there is a lot 
 of misconception with regard to the real 
 tastes of a young woman after she marries. 
 If she is a person who grows and develops 
 she must, of necessity, like many things 
 besides her husband and children. Now 
 here is a case in point. Because I am de- 
 voted to my own children is that any rea- 
 son why I should not be fond of other peo-
 
 160 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 pie's children? As a matter of fact, I don't 
 care much for any children but my own; 
 but, if I did, wouldn't that be blameless and 
 even praiseworthy? So with men. I 
 should always like them all even if I were 
 eighty and had been married all my life." 
 
 " It's a funny thing, Del, but some way 
 you never seem married, to me." 
 
 " I was married, I assure you. I remem- 
 ber it very distinctly. White is not becom- 
 ing to me, so I wore a dark blue cashmere 
 dress and a stunning black toque with lit- 
 tle feathers you remember? And Henry 
 thought I was so sensible and so above 
 feminine frivolities." 
 
 " It is awfully hard to know what is 
 right and wrong, I must say. You cer- 
 tainly make Mr. Hadwell perfectly happy 
 and you are an ideal mother. Perhaps you 
 are more in the right than I think." 
 
 " My dear, I have read somewhere that 
 there are certain plants which die just as 
 soon as they have propagated. That is all 
 they exist for; just to reproduce their own 
 life and then die. Now there are a good 
 many women in the world who are like 
 these plants. They are not half as good
 
 "A FIN-DE-SIECLE PAIR" 161 
 
 mothers, not half as satisfactory wives as 
 I am; but they are devoid of all possibility 
 of offending because, to all intents and pur- 
 poses, they died with the birth of their first 
 child. Henceforth they exist in a modified 
 form. They are no longer individuals but 
 vegetables. All the young plant needs is 
 air and light; but, as the young human 
 needs food, clothes, exercise and various 
 other things, they exist solely for the pur- 
 pose of furnishing it with those things. 
 They are incapable of holding an opinion 
 or formulating a thought; they all think 
 exactly alike on all subjects which means, 
 practically, that they do not think at all 
 their education, intellectually, stopped when 
 they graduated from school, their educa- 
 tion, emotionally, when they married. Are 
 they more commendable than I? What 
 do they do that I don't? Only I do other 
 things in addition. I am a living woman, 
 not a maternal cipher. I have a heart and 
 a mind and a life of my own and these 
 develop side by side with the development 
 of my children. Of course the mere fact 
 of life existing means that there are possi- 
 bilities of mistakes being made, faults being
 
 162 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 committed; but isn't it better to live than 
 to die? Lynn, I didn't know I was so 
 clever! Aren't you proud of me?" 
 
 " Proud of you, all round, Del, except 
 that I still wish you didn't flirt. Even if 
 you are not in love with your husband it 
 is bad form to publish the fact. And the 
 very fact that you are still alive very 
 much alive and capable of leading a life 
 apart from your children makes your way 
 of acting dangerous. I am always afraid 
 that some day you will " 
 
 ' That some day I shall fall in love and 
 make a fool of myself? Don't worry. 
 Some women are dominated by one of the 
 great primal instincts, some by another. I 
 am a mother, first and last and always. 
 Men are only things to play with, but my 
 children are necessities. I could never do 
 anything that would cause them a mo- 
 ment's anxiety or difficulty in the future. 
 No, my dear! When little Aileen is enjoy- 
 ing her first season her mother will be the 
 same irreproachable, if frivolous, matron 
 that she is at present. What a serious con- 
 versation we have drifted into, haven't we? 
 I don't like it seriousness! Dear me,
 
 "A FIN-DE-SIECLE PAIR" 163 
 
 Lynn, what in the world should I do if any- 
 thing were to happen to you? You're the 
 only person whom I dare to be myself with. 
 Catch me trusting another woman. What 
 makes you so unlike other women, Lynn? " 
 
 " Possibly the lack of sense for which 
 you were upbraiding me so heartily a little 
 while ago," said Lynn, slyly. " By the way, 
 Del, that name, ' Waite,' is strangely fa- 
 miliar to me. Oh, of course! I know, now. 
 I had a little pupil, once " 
 
 " Oh, Lynn, please don't start to talk 
 about those ragamuffins of yours. I should 
 think you would be glad to put them out 
 of your mind for a few hours." 
 
 : * He was a most unfortunate child," pur- 
 sued Lynn, unheeding. " He was plain and 
 stupid and he knew it: and he came from 
 a different social class from most of the 
 others, which seemed to put the final touch 
 to his isolation. I was glad when he died, 
 poor little chap! He was devoted to me 
 and I made a great pet of him because he 
 seemed so lonely. I wonder if " 
 
 " Oh, a Gorgon-faced, icebergy automa- 
 ton like Mrs. Waite never had a child in 
 her life, I'm sure. Here we are at last."
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 VISITORS AND DISCLOSURES 
 
 " Knowledge comes but wisdom lingers." 
 
 Tennyson. 
 
 " I would that you were all to me. 
 
 You that are just so much, no more, 
 Nor yours, nor mine, not slave nor free ! 
 
 Where does the fault lie? What the core 
 O' the wound, since wound must be." 
 
 . Browning. 
 
 " T LOVE studios," announced Mrs. Had- 
 well with effusion, " and I love artists. 
 
 -*" Not you, only, Mr. Amherst, but all 
 artists. They're so interesting." 
 
 " Don't, please don't, Mrs. Hadwell," im- 
 plored Amherst, laughing. " I have always 
 hoped that my habit of keeping my head 
 closely cropped and my face carefully 
 shaved would save me from being thought 
 ' interesting.' You have no idea what vis- 
 ions that word ' interesting ' conjures up in 
 the mind of the average man. Dinky vel- 
 
 164
 
 VISITORS AND DISCLOSURES 165 
 
 vet coats, unkempt beards, dirty hands, 
 soulful eyes don't, whatever else you do, 
 call me ' interesting.' You might as well 
 call a spoilt beauty a ' nice, sensible girl.' ' 
 
 " That is something that no one ever 
 called me," said Mrs. Hadwell thoughtfully, 
 tugging at her gloves. " You needn't look 
 at me, Mr. Amherst; I feel like staying 
 here a while and I'm going to stay, no mat- 
 ter how busy you are there, don't apolo- 
 gize or waste time in saying you'll be glad 
 to see me and have me stay. Of course you 
 will a sensible man like you ! What were 
 we saying when you , interrupted me I 
 mean, when I interrupted myself? Oh, 
 yes! I was saying that no one had ever 
 called me a ' nice, sensible girl.' ' 
 
 " The reason is obvious," declared Am- 
 herst, laughing. 
 
 "Why oh, I see! Thank you. You 
 mean that I don't look sensible. No, I 
 should hope I didn't. I should hate to!" 
 
 " I don't know whether I look sensible," 
 said Lynn, wheeling suddenly round from 
 the contemplation of a picture, " but people 
 must think I do, for I so often hear myself 
 referred to as ' that nice, sensible girl/ Is
 
 i66 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 it an insult? I never thought of it in that 
 light." 
 
 " Not an insult, dear," said Mrs. Had- 
 well, composedly, " but an undoubted lie. 
 Of all people who lack the first elements 
 of sense you certainly head the list. Doesn't 
 she, Mr. Amherst? But no, of course, you 
 wouldn't think so, naturally. You're a 
 man, and anyway, you don't know her." 
 
 " I should have said I knew Miss Thayer 
 pretty well," said Amherst, looking sur- 
 prised, " and I should certainly have 
 thought that she was very sensible. I don't 
 see what you mean." 
 
 " Of course you don't. As I previously 
 remarked, you're a man. You think she's 
 sensible and I have little doubt but that, 
 in your heart of hearts, you think I'm a 
 foolish little thing. Yet there's more sense 
 in my little finger than there is in all of 
 Lynn's tall body. / know." 
 
 " What you call sense I call lying and 
 cheating," returned Lynn, composedly. 
 
 Amherst burst out laughing. 
 
 " You and Miss Thayer are certainly the 
 most candid pair I have ever run across," 
 he cried. " Do you always give and return
 
 VISITORS AND DISCLOSURES 167 
 
 these insults in perfect good faith? or does 
 one or the other sometimes get annoyed?" 
 
 " Never," replied Lynn. " I can't imag- 
 ine anything happening to make Del and 
 me quarrel. In fact, I don't believe we 
 could quarrel. I don't know what other 
 people fight about, anyway. Do you, Del? " 
 
 " Why, yes," said Mrs. Hadwell. " They 
 fight because one has a better hat than the 
 other or because one likes red and the other 
 likes blue, but, generally, because they both 
 want the same man. Isn't that so, Mr. 
 Amherst? But, you see, in this case, Lynn 
 and I never like the same man, so we don't 
 clash." 
 
 " But even if we did," said Lynn, em- 
 phatically, " I can't imagine either of us 
 doing anything so vulgar as to quarrel, 
 Del. I'm sure if the man preferred you, 
 you could have him; and, if he preferred 
 me, I'd give him up to you without a mo- 
 ment's hesitation." 
 
 "I wonder!" said her friend, teasingly. 
 " Suppose I had taken a fancy to that ab- 
 surd boy with the black eyes and the un- 
 pronounceable Italian name would you 
 have given him up to me, Lynn? I doubt
 
 i68 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 it. Do you remember him, Mr. Amherst? 
 Wasn't it funny, the way our dear sensible 
 Lynn bowed down before him? I think it 
 must have been her attentions that drove 
 him to drink, don't you? he probably 
 thought that he was in imminent danger 
 of being dragged to the altar." 
 
 Lynn smiled a little but stirred restlessly 
 and did not make any comment on this. 
 
 "What has become of that boy?" cried 
 Mrs. Hadwell, suddenly. 'There, now! 
 I'm so glad I thought to ask you. You 
 ought to know if anyone would; you were 
 quite pals, weren't you, Mr. Amherst? Is 
 the boy dead?" 
 
 " Unfortunately, no," returned Amherst, 
 dryly. 
 
 '* Then what's become of him? " 
 
 " Are you, too, interested in his fate, 
 Miss Thayer?" asked Amherst, turning to 
 where she stood looking intently at him, 
 as though something hung on his answer. 
 ' You used to be very good to him, as Mrs. 
 Hadwell says. Would you like to know 
 where he is, now? " 
 
 ' Yes no yes, I should like to very 
 much," said Lynn in a low voice.
 
 VISITORS AND DISCLOSURES 169 
 
 " Well, he is within a few minutes' walk 
 of this place." 
 
 " You don't say so ! And what is he 
 doing?" asked Mrs. Hadwell with much 
 excitement. 
 
 " Going to the devil as fast as he possi- 
 bly can." 
 
 "How? Why? Wherefore? Lynn, I 
 shall shake you in another minute if you 
 don't show a little more interest. This is 
 positively the most exciting thing. Think 
 of it! Ricossia! going to the Devil with 
 a big D ! within a few minutes' walk of 
 this place. What's his address, Mr. Am- 
 herst?" 
 
 "I I don't feel at liberty to tell you 
 that," responded Amherst, after a slight 
 hesitation. " I don't think he would like to 
 have it known." 
 
 " Oh, he must be a terribly shady char- 
 acter," said Mrs. Hadwell with a delighted 
 chuckle. " I think all this is thrilling. Do 
 tell me his address. I won't hurt him. I 
 only want to see for myself what he is 
 doing and how he is. I'll I'd like to take 
 him a glass of jelly and some grapes. 
 What's the matter, Mr. Amherst?"
 
 170 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 "Excuse me. The idea of Ricossia in 
 conjunction with the glass of jelly and the 
 grapes upset me for the moment, that is 
 all." 
 
 " I'd take him some champagne if Lynn 
 wasn't with me. In my most abandoned 
 moments I never forget that I am a chap- 
 eron so I'm afraid the champagne will 
 have to be left behind. But I will go and 
 see him Mr. Amherst, do tell me." 
 
 Amherst smilingly shook his head. 
 
 " He wouldn't like it, I know." 
 
 " You're quite right," said Lynn, regard- 
 ing the speaker, gratefully. " I'm sure he 
 wouldn't like it. I wouldn't, in his place. 
 Do do you ever see him, Mr. Amherst?" 
 
 " Often. I frequently run over and just 
 have an eye to him. I always expect to 
 find him frozen or burnt to death or some- 
 thing of that sort. But Providence always 
 looks after people of that kind. He'll die 
 in his bed, no fear the little brute!" 
 
 Lynn started and flushed. 
 
 " I thought you liked him," she said with 
 involuntary reproach in her tone. -* 
 
 "Well --fact is, I don't. What's more, 
 I don't know anyone who does. The boy's
 
 VISITORS AND DISCLOSURES 171 
 
 unfit to live and about equally unfit to die 
 poor little chap ! It's wonderful, though, 
 the way he lasts. He's a living example of 
 a theory I've always held, namely, that con- 
 sumption doesn't really kill, no matter what 
 the hardships may be, until the consump- 
 tive loses interest in life and living. Then, 
 he goes very quickly." 
 
 " You may be right," said Lynn, tone- 
 lessly. 
 
 " Now, while Mrs. Hadwell is absorbed 
 in the bald man with the red nose who is 
 hanging at the other end of the room," said 
 Amherst, hastily, " I want to ask you some- 
 thing. How is it that I never see you, 
 now? It must be a month since I last 
 had a real talk with you. What's the mat- 
 ter?" 
 
 " The matter? Why, nothing." 
 
 ' You're not offended with me about any- 
 thing?" 
 
 " Why, no." 
 
 " In the last few weeks I must have rung 
 you up a dozen times, but you have always 
 been out or engaged. You must lead a 
 busy life." 
 
 " I do," said Lynn, smiling faintly.
 
 172 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 " But I am sorry you thought I didn't want 
 to see you. It wasn't that." 
 
 "Wasn't it?" 
 
 Amherst's voice changed. 
 
 " Do you know that you have avoided me 
 ever since that night at the Burns'?" 
 
 "I I hadn't thought about it." 
 
 "Is that the truth?" 
 
 Lynn was silent : then 
 
 " Not exactly," she said with a faint ef- 
 fort. 
 
 " I tried to say something to you that 
 evening you remember? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 'Why wouldn't you let me say it?" 
 
 " I thought you had better not," said 
 Lynn in a low voice. 
 
 "Don't say that; not unless you mean 
 me to understand that " 
 
 " Mr. Amherst," broke in Mrs. Hadwell, 
 imperatively, "you are a horrid man! 
 First you refuse to give me Ricossia's ad- 
 dress, next you stand and talk to Miss 
 Thayer in a low voice without giving me 
 a chance to show her my portrait. She's 
 dying to see it, aren't you, Lynn? and it's 
 getting so dark. Can't you drive back with
 
 VISITORS AND DISCLOSURES 173 
 
 me and take dinner? then you can talk to 
 Lynn as much as ever you want and Mr. 
 Hadwell and I will sit by like deaf-mutes 
 and play propriety. Won't you? " 
 
 " Awfully sorry ! " said Amherst with 
 genuine regret in his voice. " I have an 
 engagement of long standing, so it's impos- 
 sible. But if you'll only repeat the invita- 
 tion, I'd love to come. Will you?" 
 
 " I will," responded Mrs. Hadwell. " I'll 
 look up my engagement book and see if we 
 can find an evening when we shall all be 
 free. In the meantime, let me ask you what 
 this means, this little wrinkle in my brow? 
 I've puzzled over it for at least ten minutes 
 and I demand to have it explained. If it 
 is copied from life, you must simply paint 
 it out, that's all!"
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 THE VIEWS OF TWO WOMEN 
 
 "Is it your moral of Life? 
 
 Such a web, simple and subtle, 
 Weave we on earth here in impotent strife, 
 
 Backward and forward each throwing his shuttle, 
 Death ending all with a knife." 
 
 Browning. 
 
 THE time has come, the Walrus 
 said, to talk of many things," 
 quoted Mrs. Hadwell, settling 
 back in her easy-chair with intense satis- 
 faction. If, as the poet asserts, " a sorrow's 
 crown of sorrow is remembering happier 
 things " certainly a joy's crown of joy may 
 be remembering unhappier things. One 
 principal reason for Mrs. Hadwell's calm 
 and unlimited enjoyment of her life lay in 
 the fact that her youth had been spent in 
 other people's easy-chairs. It is note- 
 worthy that it had been spent in easy- 
 chairs; women of her type always do spend 
 their lives in easy-chairs, metaphorical and 
 
 174
 
 VIEWS OF TWO WOMEN 175 
 
 literal; but an easy-chair bestowed upon 
 one by a doting husband, and an easy-chair 
 occupied by sufferance in other people's 
 homes are, as will readily be perceived, two 
 very different pieces of furniture. 
 
 ' What do you want to talk about in 
 particular?" Lynn asked, regarding her 
 hostess lazily. Dinner was over; Mr. Had- 
 well had betaken himself to his club; and 
 the two sat at their ease in a softly shaded 
 luxurious library, filled with unread books 
 in half-calf. Polished mahogany, heavy 
 damask curtains, thick, soft carpets, scent 
 of mignonette and roses, all added to its 
 comfort. 
 
 " I want to talk about all sorts of things," 
 returned Estelle, in answer to her friend's 
 question. " Interesting things things that 
 matter yourself for instance! I wonder 
 why it is that so few people talk interest- 
 ingly about ordinary things! I believe it 
 must be because they simply will not tell 
 the truth about them; they stick to plati- 
 tudes for fear of blundering on some 
 thought they feel they oughtn't to have. 
 Don't you think that is it? Now we always 
 look things right in the face and say just
 
 176 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 what we think about them; and that is 
 why we're so queer and so nice and 
 so interesting to one another. And this is 
 such a good opportunity for a talk. We've 
 had such a lovely dinner wasn't that 
 soup delicious? and, as for that muscatel! 
 Don't you simply dote on things to eat? 
 I do. I never agree with that man Solo- 
 mon, wasn't it? who said that he would 
 rather have a dinner of herbs and peace 
 than a stalled ox and strife therewith. 
 Let him have the herbs! and give me the 
 stalled ox every time. If it were nicely 
 served and properly cooked I wouldn't care 
 if there were seven bad-tempered married 
 couples and sixteen cross cats and twenty 
 squalling parrots all rowing together at my 
 elbow. That's what it is to be practical. 
 Give me things to eat and a good appetite 
 and I don't care much what happens. 
 There's something about a dinner which 
 appeals to me in a way that sunsets and 
 sonatas don't. And yet some one described 
 me the other day as being ' spirituelle/ 
 Fancy!" 
 
 " Some one who didn't know you very 
 well, evidently."
 
 VIEWS OF TWO WOMEN 177 
 
 " Some one who has called me ' Estelle ' 
 all his life except the four years of it when 
 I wasn't born; but, as you say, some one 
 who doesn't know me very well because he 
 happens to be a man and a man who used 
 to be in love with me. Poor thing! And 
 yet he's happy in his way and I'm happy 
 in mine. He has his ideals and I have my 
 dinners. The only really happy people are 
 the people who have the sense to prefer 
 dinners to ideals and who steadily set to 
 work to get them." 
 
 " I suppose you are happy. If dinners 
 could make anyone happy you ought to be. 
 But, tell me, Del, do you never want any- 
 thing else? " 
 
 " Oh, yes. I want silk dresses and dia- 
 mond brooches and the feeling that every 
 snob in town will kow-tow as soon as my 
 snub nose appears. And I've got them all 
 thank goodness! I very easily might 
 not have, you know. There are so many 
 others looking out for just the opportunity 
 I seized. And every one said that Henry 
 wasn't a marrying man. Ridiculous! As 
 if every one wasn't a marrying man as soon 
 as the right woman came along; the woman
 
 178 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 who made love to him unremittingly and 
 tactfully without letting him see that she 
 was doing it. It was an awful bore, some- 
 times, to make love to Henry. It had to 
 be done so carefully. O dear, he was so 
 surly and snubby and so scared of being 
 hooked. But it didn't do any good: I in- 
 tended to marry him and I married him 
 and so could you if you had any gump- 
 tion ! " she exclaimed, veering around and 
 fixing Lynn with a look of intense deter- 
 mination. 
 
 "What? Marry Henry?" 
 
 "Not my Henry, no; but some other 
 Henry. There are plenty of them and if 
 you don't take them somebody else will. 
 They all like to be admired and courted. 
 And oh, lucky girl! Fate has dropped an 
 ideal Henry right in your lap." 
 
 "Don't, Del! My poor lap! And as for 
 ' ideal,' why, he has green teeth and goggly 
 eyes." 
 
 " I am sure you are not so good-looking, 
 yourself." 
 
 " Now, Del ! Have I goggly eyes and 
 green teeth? Let us be accurate before we 
 are aggravating. Besides, it was horrid of
 
 VIEWS OF TWO WOMEN 179 
 
 me to speak of his appearance. Only his 
 appearance is so exactly like him that it 
 grates on me, some way." 
 
 " He is a great deal too good for you," 
 said her friend, indignantly. 
 
 " So every one has already told me. Any- 
 thing is too good for an old, ugly school- 
 teacher, I dare say; but I don't want him, 
 even if he is too good for me." 
 
 " Now, Lynn, we'll talk this over. I 
 want to have the whole thing out with 
 you." 
 
 " As you please." 
 
 "Very well, then. We will assume that 
 you are quite determined not to marry 
 Lighton. Two other courses are open to 
 you; the first, to go on teaching all your 
 life; the second, to marry some one else. 
 We will examine these two alternatives 
 with your permission." 
 
 "Or without it!" 
 
 " Or, as you say, without it. Let us begin 
 then. We will suppose that you stay as 
 you are and go on teaching. You are not 
 at all young, now you needn't grin. I 
 know I am two years older, but that has 
 nothing to do with it; I'm married. You
 
 i8o THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 are not, I repeat, young. Every year you 
 become a little older and a little older." 
 
 ' The truth of your remarks is only 
 equalled by their unpleasantness." 
 
 " I don't care. You go on getting older 
 and older. Your aunt, who has been good 
 to you and of whom you are fond, will be 
 very much disappointed in you. She feels 
 that it is disgraceful not to marry and 
 criminal not to marry Lighten, and I am 
 strongly inclined to agree with her. So, 
 as the years go by and you get older and 
 plainer and less desirable your aunt will 
 grow less and less fond of you. You are 
 not a great favourite with your uncle; to 
 be sure, he has only one supreme favourite 
 in the universe and I needn't say who that 
 is! and your aunt will probably die in 
 time. What a happy home you will have, 
 then! Suppose on the other hand, that he 
 should die. You wouldn't have money 
 enough to live in that big house and you 
 would have to be cooped up in a flat and 
 come home, after teaching all day, to 
 listen to your aunt's lamentations about 
 the nice establishment you might have 
 had "
 
 VIEWS OF TWO WOMEN 181 
 
 '* Thank fortune there are always the poi- 
 son and the dagger." 
 
 " There are ; but they're the refuge of the 
 coward, and ordinary respectable people 
 don't commit suicide, however much they 
 want to. Now, having fully disposed of 
 that alternative, let us turn to the other 
 that you marry some one else. Who else 
 is there? You are a general favourite and 
 lots of men like to talk to you; but who, 
 besides Lighten, is in love with you? I 
 mean of course, that is in a position to 
 marry. We will suppose, though, that you 
 have several other proposals in the next 
 few years what then? Whom would you 
 rather marry? " 
 
 Lynn said nothing and turned her head 
 away. 
 
 " The fact is that there is no one you 
 would rather marry and there are very few 
 who could offer you what he does. The 
 trouble with you is that you don't face 
 things. You know that, if you don't marry 
 him, you have nothing in life to look for- 
 ward to; yet, because it isn't an ideal 
 arrangement, you refuse to consider it. 
 Surely you have outgrown the silly, pretty,
 
 182 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 childish idea of marrying for love? Look 
 at the people who do marry for love! How 
 many of them are as happy as I am? I, 
 who deliberately angled to catch the richest 
 man of my acquaintance and did it. You 
 could not have managed matters for your- 
 self in the way that I did; and then, Fate, 
 instead of punishing you for being stupid, 
 offers you a prize and you throw it away. 
 Why?" 
 
 " It is a little hard to explain why, Del," 
 returned her friend, slowly. " I don't know 
 whether I could make you understand." 
 
 '' I don't know that I have much heart, 
 Lynn, but I have a mind. Try me." 
 
 " Long ago, then, I ' faced things ' as you 
 call it. I looked right at them hard and 
 baldly and I saw that Life is very hard on 
 woman. Life, Society even Nature all 
 seem to be leagued against her. Her one 
 chance of happiness is to make a happy mar- 
 riage; and in order to make a happy mar- 
 riage how many things are needed and 
 how few are forthcoming! Even then she 
 must make up her mind to face certain tor- 
 ture and possible death; and when, after 
 bearing two or three children, she loses her
 
 VIEWS OF TWO WOMEN 183 
 
 youth, her strength, her good looks, she has 
 the satisfaction of knowing that her hus- 
 band is as attractive as he was the day she 
 married him. So, practically, in the major- 
 ity of cases, she has nothing but her chil- 
 dren. I am not thinking of you, you mon- 
 key; you are a great exception. Of course 
 the children must be worth a great deal 
 to her, but, apart from them, the average 
 woman has precious little. Her husband is 
 usually fond of her I am speaking, now, 
 of happy marriages but all the idealism 
 and the romance die very quickly. If, on 
 the other hand, she does as so many do 
 and marries some one who is in love with 
 her but for whom she cares little what 
 then? All the usual hindrances and no 
 compensations. There is left only spinster- 
 hood. Putting aside the lucky few who 
 have some art, some profession, which 
 means everything to them, unmarried 
 women are, as you have said, simply in- 
 cumbrances and not happy incumbrances 
 at that. The one happy thing for a woman 
 is to fall in love when she is young, marry 
 some one who adores her, and become so 
 absorbed in her children that she won't
 
 1 84 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 mind the rest. Of course there are a few 
 ideal marriages here and there; cases where 
 people fall in love and stay in love and have 
 satisfactory children and enjoy life; but 
 you know as well as I do how many of 
 these there are. Four altogether; and I 
 have sometimes doubted the fourth." 
 
 " Well, of all the cynics " 
 
 " Not a bit of it; I don't cherish useless 
 illusions in the face of facts, that's all. 
 Well, as I began to say, long ago I ' faced 
 things ' and saw them as they were. The 
 best thing to do was to fall in love and 
 make a happy marriage; that I couldn't do. 
 The next was to marry some one I didn't 
 want, or to do something that would sup- 
 port me, and remain unmarried. Of the 
 two, the last seemed the only possible thing. 
 I can get along for the present just as I 
 am and I do not look into the future. As 
 far as I can see, it is bound to be a wretched 
 one, anyway; but I may die a thousand 
 things may happen. In the meantime I 
 do not worry because of realizing that life 
 is a tragic thing; and I take things very 
 coolly and don't make a fuss about any- 
 thing that can't be helped. When I feel
 
 VIEWS OF TWO WOMEN 185 
 
 down in the mouth I always console myself 
 with the reflection, first, that it can't last 
 forever; and, secondly, that however in- 
 dustriously Fate may knock me, she can't 
 compel me to squeal about it." 
 
 " What a truly cheerful and comforting 
 reflection." 
 
 " Well, do you know anyone more cheer- 
 ful than I?" 
 
 "No, I can't say that I do; but appear- 
 ances are certainly deceptive. Then you 
 really prefer unmarried unhappiness to 
 married unhappiness that is your final 
 choice? " 
 
 ' That is my final choice." 
 
 " It is an extraordinary one, that is all I 
 can say, when one thinks of all the money 
 that is thrown in with the married unhap- 
 piness." 
 
 " Money can't buy happiness." 
 
 " No, but it can buy some mighty good 
 substitutes for it, my dear. And as far as 
 I can see, you are not going to get any- 
 thing at all with the unmarried unhappi- 
 
 ness." 
 
 "Nothing at all? Freedom, a peaceful 
 mind and an independent income. I'd
 
 i86 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 rather have my liberty than all the houses 
 in Christendom and all the men. Of course 
 I am human; I should prefer to make a 
 happy marriage; but how many people do, 
 and why should I be picked out for a happy 
 fate when so many kinder and better people 
 than I have nothing but trouble from be- 
 ginning to end of their lives? No; I com- 
 plain of nothing." 
 
 " Don't you think you will be sorry for 
 this, some day? " 
 
 ' If I am, no one will ever know it." 
 
 " If you think all this about your future, 
 why do you want to live? " 
 
 'I don't want to live. Do you? Does 
 any mature person? But I must live and 
 so must you. There is probably some rea- 
 son for the world and for Nature and for 
 Sin and for all the other queer works of 
 God and of the Devil. Perhaps we shall 
 find it all out some day and then again 
 perhaps we shall sleep so soundly that we- 
 shall not care to find out anything at all. 
 That would be nice. It would be still nicer, 
 though, to find out that everything was 
 for the best, really, and that everything 
 about the world was necessary. ' God's in
 
 VIEWS OF TWO WOMEN 187 
 
 his heaven, all's right with the world/ you 
 know, and all that sort of thing. That 
 phrase about the ' best of all possible 
 worlds/ when applied to this, is such rub- 
 bish and such inhuman rubbish at that; 
 such an insult to the intelligence and hu- 
 manity of mankind; yet one can't help 
 hoping that there will be a ' best of all pos- 
 sible worlds ' and the mere fact that we 
 want it and look forward to it so instinct- 
 ively shows that there must be one, some- 
 where, I think. What do you think?" 
 
 " I think I should like to have a brandy 
 and soda," said Mrs. Hadwell, forlornly. 
 " Positively you have given me the blues. 
 I do hate thinking of heaven and poets and 
 metaphysics and things. This earth is all 
 right if you only have sense. The trouble 
 is, you haven't any. Oh! I have just 
 thought of something. I have a lovely box 
 of Huyler's that I haven't touched. We'll 
 eat that and Thomas shall light us a little 
 fire and you can have the latest magazine 
 and I'll read the book of that woman's 
 you know! the one that they are making 
 all the fuss about. It's frightfully amusing 
 and very improper and it doesn't make one
 
 i88 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 think the least little bit. That's the sort 
 of book I like, and it's the sort of book most 
 people like, too, only they won't say so. 
 Yes, it is, Lynn. You needn't say it isn't. 
 Else why is it always out at the library, 
 though they have seven copies, and why is 
 its author able to travel all over the world 
 on her earnings? You don't understand 
 human nature. All it wants is to be amused 
 and not to be improved. We all like to 
 slide down hill, comfortably, without being 
 obliged to climb up again. And we would 
 all slide down much faster if it wasn't that 
 the company at the foot of the hill is so 
 unpleasant and the people at the top throw 
 things at you and you can't throw them 
 back. And the reason that the people at 
 the top throw things is that they are so 
 cross because they don't really like being 
 stuck up there and they have to pretend 
 they do." 
 
 ' Well, you're not at all cross, yet, Del, 
 and you haven't slid down hill very fast," 
 said Lynn, laughing. 
 
 " Oh, yes, I have. Anyway I didn't have 
 far to slide from. I began pretty low down, 
 you know. Oh, I have no illusions about
 
 VIEWS OF TWO WOMEN 189 
 
 myself. But, even so I have slidden. But 
 you see, if you are clad in gold armour, 
 you can slide as much as you like; for that 
 renders you bullet-proof. If I were a 
 nursery-governess slaving over spoilt brats 
 for the sake of getting a miserable living, 
 I should be thought a very shady character. 
 Just suppose I had said what I said just 
 now about only liking improper things that 
 didn't make me think! Why, I should be 
 turned out of doors without a character, 
 I suppose. But I am Mrs. Henry Hadwell 
 and so I can slide just as much as I please 
 within limits. Perhaps it is just as well 
 that there are limits to everything. Other- 
 wise I dare say I should be even worse than 
 I am. And I'm pretty bad, you know. I 
 haven't any conscience and very little affec- 
 tion. And I have no ideals. But then, as 
 I said before, I have dinners lovely din- 
 ners! How glad I am to think that I am 
 going to have another one to-morrow. 
 Some way, when I think of that, I quite for- 
 get all the horrid things you have put into 
 my head to-night. Just think ! I / might 
 have been a nursery-governess. // I hadn't 
 brains or industry enough to become a
 
 190 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 teacher. Ugh! Oh, what horrible lives 
 there are in the world and how lovely to 
 think that I have a lovely home and a do- 
 ting husband and three darling children 
 and my dinners! What are you thinking 
 about, now? " 
 
 " I was just thinking that we were aw- 
 fully like the lower animals, really," replied 
 Lynn, with a half-laugh. " A little more 
 complex, but just about like them, other- 
 wise. What does the average bear want? 
 A mate, cubs, and dinners. If he gets 
 them he is happy; if he doesn't, he is mis- 
 erable. If Bob could talk, he would say 
 just about what you have been saying, 
 now." 
 
 " Bob is a sensible dog," said Mrs. Had- 
 well, solemnly. " I don't like dogs and I 
 do like you but justice compels me to state 
 that Bob has a lot more sense than you 
 have. Nevermind! you will get wise when 
 it is too late and then you will wish that 
 you had had the sense to imitate me and 
 Bob and all the other practical people in 
 the world. You needn't think I mind being 
 called a lower animal. If being a lower 
 animal means getting what you want and
 
 VIEWS OF TWO WOMEN 191 
 
 being a higher animal means getting what 
 you don't want, well, I want to be a 
 lower animal, thank you! Lynn! these 
 marron glaces are simply the most delicious 
 things you ever thought of. Do have one ! "
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 REJECTED ADDRESSES 
 
 " The Heart's Desire hath led me 
 In barren lands and vain." 
 
 Theodosia Garrison. 
 
 "T SUPPOSE it sounds brutal to say 
 
 so," said Lynn Thayer, " but you 
 
 know you ought really to be very 
 
 grateful to me for refusing you. You will 
 
 thank me for it, ten years hence." 
 
 Mr. Harold Lighten, who was sitting op- 
 posite, frowned angrily and made no re- 
 sponse. 
 
 " We are not in the least suited to one 
 another," she continued, gently. " You 
 I would make you very unhappy. You are 
 young and rich, and when you get over this, 
 you will be able to marry some nice, young, 
 pretty girl." 
 
 " I don't want a nice, young, pretty girl," 
 returned Mr. Lighten, glumly. " I want 
 you." 
 
 192
 
 REJECTED ADDRESSES 193 
 
 Lynn's eyes suddenly danced but she 
 very properly refrained from comment. 
 
 " Oh, I say, won't you think this over?" 
 burst forth Mr. Lighten, quite unconscious 
 of the doubtful compliment he had just paid 
 the object of his affections. " I'm most aw- 
 fully in love with you, indeed I am. You 
 know that, don't you?" 
 
 " I know that you think you are in love 
 with me, just now," answered Lynn, 
 gravely. " But, in my twenty-eight years 
 of life, quite a few people have told me that 
 they were in love with me and would never 
 be happy without me. And they have mar- 
 ried some one else in a few years' time and 
 have never thought of me, again." 
 
 "I'm not like that," said Mr. Lighton, 
 eagerly. " Upon my soul, I'm not. You 
 may think I'm fickle or easily suited. I'm 
 not. I don't like anybody but you and I 
 never will. It seems pretty hard when a 
 fellow's waited until over thirty before he 
 has run across any one he fancied and 
 then to be turned down, after all." 
 
 " It has happened before." 
 
 "Why, no, it hasn't!" said Lighton, in- 
 dignantly.
 
 i 9 4 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 " I mean to other people." 
 
 " Oh! See here, why won't you have me? 
 I suppose I'm not clever enough for you. 
 Is that the trouble?" 
 
 " No, no indeed. I'm stupid, myself, 
 frightfully stupid in lots of ways. That 
 isn't it, at all. It's just that I don't care 
 enough about you." 
 
 Mr. Lighten regarded her with some per- 
 plexity. 
 
 " I say I'd like awfully to say some- 
 thing if you won't think it rude." 
 
 "Very well what is it?" 
 
 ' You're twenty-eight you don't mind 
 my mentioning it, do you?" queried Mr. 
 Lighten, tactfully. " You've always spoken 
 so openly of it, yourself." 
 
 " Oh, I can never keep even the most 
 damaging facts about myself hidden," said 
 Lynn, solemnly. 
 
 "Eh? what's that? Oh, well, never 
 mind! What I wanted to say was this: 
 Don't you mean to marry?" 
 
 " I haven't quite made up my mind, yet. 
 Perhaps I may marry somebody a few 
 years hence but not you," she hastily
 
 REJECTED ADDRESSES 195 
 
 added, seeing Mr. Lighten look up with 
 sudden interest. 
 
 "Why not me?" 
 
 " I have told you twenty times over why 
 not." 
 
 "And you're serious about it? You're 
 sure you won't change your mind? Well, 
 what I wanted to say was this. Suppose, 
 a few years hence when you've decided that 
 you will marry now, you won't be of- 
 fended?" 
 
 " I don't think I will. What you want 
 to say is, what will I do if no one wants 
 to marry me, then? " 
 
 ' Yes," confessed Mr. Lighton, looking a 
 little embarrassed but sticking to his guns, 
 manfully. " You're an awfully stunning 
 girl, but a girl often doesn't get another 
 offer after thirty; and what if you don't?" 
 
 " I won't marry." 
 
 "But but" 
 
 !< I won't marry, anyway, unless I see 
 some one I like better than I do you," said 
 Lynn, deliberately. " It is best to be ex- 
 plicit, isn't it? I don't want to hurt you, 
 but this is the plain truth of the matter.
 
 196 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 The idea of marrying just for the sake of 
 being called ' Mrs/ doesn't appeal to me, 
 at all; and I could not marry you for any 
 other reason. Oh yes, of course I might 
 marry you for the sake of living in a nice 
 house and getting my clothes in Paris; but 
 I don't care much about that, either. You 
 see what I mean?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, I see. I thought, some way 
 you see I have a fairly good income and 
 you're fond of horses " 
 
 " You thought I might marry you for the 
 pleasure of seeing something of your horses; 
 is that it?" 
 
 "Oh, I say, Miss Thayer, let up! It's 
 bad enough to be refused without being 
 made game of." 
 
 " I suppose it is," said Lynn, slowly. She 
 looked at him as though a new idea had 
 occurred to her. " I wonder why you want 
 to marry me," she said at last. 
 
 ' Why I want to marry you? " 
 
 " Yes. I'm not very young, I'm not at 
 all pretty and I have no money. It seems 
 a most curious thing that you should have 
 taken this violent fancy to me. Why did 
 you? Do you know? "
 
 REJECTED ADDRESSES 197 
 
 " I say! you are a queer girl." 
 
 " In other words I'm not a sheep," re- 
 turned Lynn, composedly. " Don't you 
 think most people are very like sheep? They 
 travel in flocks and all bleat in unison at 
 the same things and get up in the morning 
 and eat and drink and go to sleep, again 
 and, in time, they die. I suppose they 
 might as well be doing that as something 
 else, but if it amuses me to do something 
 else, why shouldn't I? Now, for instance, 
 if I had been a well-regulated, conventional 
 sheep I should have bleated out, ' Oh, Mr. 
 Lighten, this is so sudden!' and then I 
 should have thought lovingly of your good 
 house and your nice furniture and should 
 have simpered and accepted you. But, not 
 being a sheep, I want to know why on earth 
 you did it." 
 
 " Because I like you so awfully," ex- 
 plained Mr. Lighton, eagerly. 
 
 " But why on earth should you like me? " 
 
 ;< I don't know," said Mr. Lighton, doubt- 
 fully. 'Why does any one like you?" he 
 inquired, brightening. " You've had lots of 
 other chaps." 
 
 "Oh, but that's different. You see I'm
 
 198 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 a man's woman by instinct and training. 
 I do my very utmost to please and be nice 
 to every man I meet except you; and the 
 consequence is that they all like me and the 
 ones who like me enough to call on me, 
 often, usually end by proposing: not be- 
 cause I'm so remarkably attractive but for 
 the reason that a man, for some occult rea- 
 son, cannot see much of a woman without 
 proposing to her." 
 
 " I say! You're gassing! " 
 
 " I'm not. But the queer thing is that 
 you took this fancy to me at the very start 
 without any help whatever from me." 
 
 " What a funny girl you are to give your- 
 self away like that. Girls generally say 
 that they don't encourage anybody." 
 
 " Yes, but, as you remarked, I am a 
 funny girl; I tell the truth, sometimes. 
 How do you suppose a plain, poor person 
 like me would ever have had so many men 
 friends if she hadn't done something? It's 
 wonderful," said Lynn, meditatively, " won- 
 derful! how easy it is to fascinate men. 
 Just look at each man and talk to him as 
 if you thought he was the most handsome, 
 brilliant and fascinating creature extant
 
 REJECTED ADDRESSES 199 
 
 and the thing is done! The man doesn't 
 live who can resist it." 
 
 " Ha, ha ! you are funny." 
 
 ' Yes. I can remember when I was a 
 young girl that I used to be terribly afraid 
 that no one would ever fall in love with 
 me because I was so ugly. I used to wish 
 so that I had curling eyelashes and rose- 
 leaf complexions and things: and, lo and 
 behold! before I was eighteen the great 
 beautiful truth dawned upon me. Just let 
 a man talk about himself until he is black 
 in the face and he will never tire of your 
 society, no matter what you look like. 
 Nothing else is necessary. A man thinks 
 any eyes gazing admiringly into his are 
 beautiful eyes: he considers any voice that 
 murmurs timely flatteries in his good right 
 ear a sweet voice: and any woman with 
 intelligence enough to laugh heartily at his 
 stale jokes and listen respectfully to his dull 
 anecdotes, has all the intelligence that any 
 female needs, in his opinion. So there you 
 are. Having this knowledge, what else did 
 I lack? I promptly became a belle of the 
 first water and have remained so for ten 
 years. Pretty girls have lost their beauty,
 
 200 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 rich girls have lost their money, lively girls 
 have lost their vivacity; but I remain per- 
 ennially attractive because I have grasped 
 the great truth that every man prefers him- 
 self to anything else on earth and, next to 
 himself, admires the woman who acts as 
 though she agreed with him. I'm in a can- 
 did mood to-night, am I not, Mr. Lighton? 
 What is the matter? you don't look very 
 happy." 
 
 " I can't help wondering," confessed Mr. 
 Lighton, rather ruefully, " why, if you're 
 so fond of having men like you, you've 
 never been nicer to me." 
 
 " Because," she returned, slowly, " I very 
 soon received the impression that you were 
 more or less in earnest. Now my puppy 
 days have passed and I take no pleasure in 
 causing pain; and it must be more or less 
 painful to want some one who doesn't care 
 anything about you. So I thought it best 
 to be flippant and unpleasant in the hope 
 that you would get disgusted. Why didn't 
 you?" 
 
 " I I don't know " 
 ' Yes, I've been most hateful," continued 
 Lynn, thoughtfully. " I wonder if it would
 
 REJECTED ADDRESSES 201 
 
 do any good if I were to tell you all the 
 harsh things I've said about you to Aunt 
 Lucy." 
 
 " I don't think," said Mr. Lighten, ha- 
 stily and firmly, " that it would do a bit of 
 good." 
 
 " Then I won't. But will you tell me just 
 as a matter of curiosity what it was that 
 you liked about me? " 
 
 " In the first place," her companion said, 
 pondering, " I suppose I liked you because 
 you didn't chase me and it was such a 
 change. You see when a fellow has a good 
 position and money coming to him " 
 He wiped his forehead and looked scared 
 and reminiscent. 
 
 " I see," exclaimed Lynn. " I must make 
 a note of that. There are men who tire of 
 being ' chased.' Then there must be men 
 who tire of tobacco, I suppose." 
 
 " I don't know about that," said Mr. 
 Lighton, dubiously. " You see, when one 
 has smoked long enough, one can always 
 throw one's cigar out of the window. So 
 one doesn't get as sick of it as one does of 
 women." 
 
 " No, I suppose not. I never thought of
 
 202 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 that," said Lynn, gravely. " Well, let me 
 see! you liked me in the first place because 
 I didn't * chase ' you: and why did you 
 like me, in the second?" 
 
 ' You're a fine sport," said Mr. Lighton, 
 pondering, " you're always ready for any 
 thing, and you dance like a streak, and 
 you're never tired, and you do make a fel- 
 low roar so. I suppose that's why." 
 
 " So these are my assets. Dancing like 
 a ' streak ' whatever that may be : al- 
 ways being ready to skate and toboggan: 
 and ' making a fellow roar so.' It doesn't 
 sound attractive: however I never pre- 
 tended to understand men. What a funny 
 thing it is! No money, no beauty, no par- 
 ticular brains and one of the most eligible 
 young men in the city begging me to marry 
 him!" 
 
 ' Your aunt likes me," said Mr. Lighton. 
 
 "She likes you very much; but she al- 
 ways confuses you with the new plumbing 
 and the electric lights in your house. She 
 can't conceive how I can withstand such 
 fascinations. Poor Aunt Lucy! I wish I 
 were a little more satisfactory: but I really 
 cannot fall in love to order even to please
 
 REJECTED ADDRESSES 203 
 
 her not with a whole galaxy of electric 
 lights." 
 
 " I don't know exactly what you're driv- 
 ing at," said Mr. Lighten, looking sullen, 
 " but I think your aunt's a very sensible 
 
 woman." 
 
 " So do I. I only wish I were half as 
 sensible. I'm a great grief to her. You 
 see, she feels rightly that a single woman 
 with no independent income should strug- 
 gle valiantly to avert the awful doom of 
 old maid. Now, the deeper I sink in the 
 mire of old-maiden-hood, the less I strug- 
 gle." 
 
 " Is your aunt very fond of you? " asked 
 Mr. Lighton curiously. 
 
 " No. She is much pleased at my popu- 
 larity, which she doesn't understand in the 
 least, and she regards it in the light of a 
 personal reward for her goodness in adopt- 
 ing me. That is all." 
 
 "And your uncle? You don't mind my 
 asking, do you? " 
 
 " Not a bit. My uncle hates me, but he 
 thinks I'm a good girl and tries not to show 
 it more than he can help. You see he can't 
 endure children and he is prejudiced against
 
 204 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 me because I was a child when he first 
 knew me and he has never forgotten it." 
 
 " Then I suppose you're not awfully fond 
 of them?" 
 
 "I am most grateful to them, both: 
 but I do not love them. I have never really 
 loved but one person in my life no, two. 
 The first love is much stronger than the 
 second: but the second is profound and 
 lasting. I am not an affectionate person: 
 I do not suppose that there will ever be 
 more than just those two." 
 
 " Neither of them's me," interposed Mr. 
 Lighten, gloomily and ungrammatically. 
 
 " Neither of them's you, no," returned 
 Lynn, firmly. 
 
 " Oh, look here, Miss Thayer, can't you 
 reconsider it? I'm I'm most awfully in 
 love with you, upon my word I am : and 
 and, after all, I don't like to say this ex- 
 actly but you know I can give you every- 
 thing you want and don't you like the 
 idea of having a little money?" 
 
 " Immensely." 
 
 " Then " - 
 
 ''' But, unfortunately I do not like the 
 idea of having you. There is the plain
 
 REJECTED ADDRESSES 205 
 
 English of it. I don't want to hurt your 
 feelings, but there doesn't seem to be any 
 way of making you understand." 
 
 "Oh, I understand, all right!" muttered 
 Mr. Lighton, ruefully. " But I can't say 
 I'm pleased. You might have given me a 
 hint before letting me make a fool of my- 
 self." 
 
 " A hint ! Man ! how many hints have I 
 given you? " 
 
 " A dev I mean a great many," re- 
 turned the consistent Mr. Lighton. " But 
 I thought you were trying to draw me on." 
 
 :< I have no talents for man-hunting," 
 said Lynn, rather crossly. " I never try to 
 ' draw people on ' or anything like that. It 
 does not amuse me: I'm a man's woman in 
 one sense but I am not a flirt " 
 
 " Flirt ! You can't flirt any more than 
 than that mantelpiece," said Mr. Ligh- 
 ton, desperately. " But I like you I can't 
 help liking you, some way." 
 
 " No I suppose you can't not just 
 at present, anyway. But you'll get over it 
 in time." 
 
 Mr. Lighton said nothing, but his face 
 was not cheerful.
 
 2o6 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 " I have a good mind," said Lynn, slowly, 
 " to tell you something about myself 
 something that will show you the hopeless- 
 ness of asking me. It is this: even if I 
 liked you very much I couldn't marry you." 
 
 "But why?" 
 
 " Because because I have a duty to 
 perform; a duty which demands all my 
 time and strength and and thought; and 
 which marriage would interfere with." 
 
 " But but do you mean that you are 
 going to perform this duty whatever it 
 may be all your life? " 
 
 " N-n-no. In a few years perhaps 
 sooner it will be finished." 
 
 "And then?" 
 
 "And then oh, don't talk about it! I 
 was foolish to speak about it, anyway 
 but, do you know, I felt sorry for you. I 
 can't understand why people like having 
 proposals from people they don't want to 
 marry. It always seems to me such a pity 
 that anything should be wasted, that any 
 feeling should burn itself out, without re- 
 sult. That may be a queer way to look 
 at it but I suppose I am queer. People
 
 REJECTED ADDRESSES 207 
 
 seem to think so and, perhaps, they are 
 right." 
 
 " Well, I'd better go, I suppose," said 
 Lighton, gruffly, after a short pause. " If 
 anything turns up I mean, if you should 
 change your mind, you know, or anything 
 like that why " 
 
 " Thank you ; but I never shall. Good- 
 night, Mr. Lighton. I'm sorry, really I am. 
 It all seems too bad, but you know it's not 
 my fault." 
 
 Left to herself, she drew a long sigh; 
 then rose and moved about the room me- 
 chanically straightening the furniture and 
 patting the sofa cushions. Finally she 
 leaned her elbows on the mantelpiece and 
 gazed earnestly into the mirror, above. 
 " Curious what he sees in me ! " she said, 
 slowly. " Curious what anyone sees in me! 
 I have nothing to recommend me in the 
 way of looks; it is hard to understand. In 
 spite of all that I have done for for the 
 boy, he he doesn't really care very much 
 about me, even now. And yet this man 
 whom I have done everything to discour- 
 age"
 
 208 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 She stared slowly at herself: then turned 
 away. 
 
 ' Time to go to bed," she said, reluc- 
 tantly. " And high time to stop think- 
 ing. . . . Oh, Liol, Liol, Liol!"
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 A DECISION TO BE REACHED 
 
 "Tis an awkward thing to play with souls, 
 And matter enough to save one's own." 
 
 Browning. 
 
 MR. ALBERT and Miss Bertha Had- 
 well having arrived at Hadwell 
 Heights their aunt had promptly 
 issued invitations for the " bridge " of 
 which she had spoken at her " tea." Had- 
 well Heights was " en fete." The guests 
 had arrived and were playing, busily, 
 though not for money. Apart from the 
 fact that the guests of honour were young, 
 Mrs. Hadwell disapproved of "bridge- 
 gambling." 
 
 " I never win at games," she confided to 
 Lynn. " And I don't enjoy losing money 
 even if I can afford it. And it's such a 
 nice, cheap way of getting a reputation for 
 steadiness and sobriety and high morality 
 and all that. I love to be known for things 
 
 209
 
 210 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 that I haven't even a bowing acquaintance 
 with. And it seems so delicious to say with 
 a perfectly straight face, * No, I never play 
 for money. I don't approve of it.' It 
 seems such a rebuke to the worldly-minded 
 and the frivolous and all that lot." 
 
 Mrs. Hadwell, though, might be de- 
 pended upon to furnish very pretty prizes. 
 Besides which her house was famed for its 
 delightful entertainments of all descrip- 
 tions. For which reasons, and for several 
 others, her pretty drawing-room was 
 thronged. 
 
 Lynn Thayer had refused to play, offer- 
 ing to bear her hostess company, however, 
 and to help her in any way she could. She 
 sat now in an alcove of the great old-fash- 
 ioned bay - window, watching the players 
 absently, and trying to straighten out sev- 
 eral matters which threatened to become 
 hopelessly entangled in her mind. This 
 was hardly the place to solve these prob- 
 lems, but, as they became daily and hourly 
 more imminent, she felt that she might as 
 well face them at one time as at another, 
 so far as she was able. 
 
 Her reflections chimed oddly with the
 
 A DECISION 211 
 
 scraps of conversation which were wafted 
 to her ears from time to time. 
 
 " What shall I say if Gerald does ask me 
 to marry him? " she thought, her face dark- 
 ening. "How can I accept him? And 
 then again how can I refuse him? If 
 he would only wait but it is not reason- 
 able to suppose that he would. How can 
 I how shall I answer him?" 
 
 " We-11," interposed a voice, faintly, " I 
 make it diamonds." 
 
 "Oh, why, Mrs. Hall?" 
 
 "Oh, did you have a good suit? Oh, 
 dear! well, never mind! I suppose we 
 can't take it back, can we? no? well, I 
 suppose not. That's the worst of " 
 
 "He must have meant that; he can't 
 have meant anything else. Of course I 
 have always known, but I thought I could 
 keep it off a little longer. And I didn't 
 realize till lately how much it would mean 
 to me if I can't give him up. No, I can't 
 give him up. Yet how can I do anything 
 else under the circumstances? Could I ex- 
 plain in any way give him any inkling 
 of my position? no, I don't see how" 
 
 "Oh, are we playing 'no trumps'?
 
 212 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 Why, I didn't know that. Why didn't you 
 tell me when you saw me playing out my 
 king and ace " 
 
 " He has no idea naturally it will seem 
 incomprehensible to him if I say that I do 
 care for him but that I can't marry him for 
 years. If I were five years younger; but, 
 even so no, I cannot say that. What 
 can I say? If I ask him to trust me and 
 to let me tell him when I shall be free to 
 give him my answer no, the case is hope- 
 less. I had better tell him baldly and 
 plainly that it is impossible for me to marry 
 and then?" 
 
 "Not at all, Mrs. Willing, not at all. 
 Of course it was my trick already but I 
 saw that you hadn't noticed that why, 
 don't think of it for a moment. Of course, 
 generally speaking, it isn't supposed to be 
 a good thing to trump your partner's trick, 
 but " 
 
 " He is not the sort of man to let it rest 
 there; he will ask questions, all sorts of 
 questions, he will insist on knowing what 
 I mean, what I intend to do. How will 
 it end? The only thing that he can never 
 think of is the truth. He will think of
 
 A DECISION 213 
 
 everything else under the sun. Oh, the 
 thing is too hopeless! I shall have to let 
 him think that I don't care for him oh, 
 but if I do that he will go away, I shall not 
 see him again; in time he will marry some 
 one else how could I bear that? He 
 must not go. I'll say anything, anything, 
 short of giving my secret away. Ah, that 
 horrible oath! So needless, so useless! and 
 to think that, on top of all the rest, this 
 should come! and that I may be compelled 
 to give up my only chance of happiness in 
 the future. I won't give it up! I won't! 
 Life is too cruel. I'll do anything to pre- 
 vent him leaving me. And then there is 
 not only my pain if he did but he would 
 suffer, too. No, it is not to be thought of 
 for a moment. He must stay." 
 
 ' Well, I suppose I really shouldn't have 
 thrown away my ace when hearts hadn't 
 been played at all, but then you know I 
 never stick to rules." 
 
 " If only he hadn't written that note, 
 asking to see me to-night. If only I could 
 have put off answering him a little longer. 
 If I refuse to let him go home with me it 
 will be equivalent to refusing him, alto-
 
 2i 4 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 gather. It is out of the question. I must 
 settle it one way or another at once. What 
 is it to be?" 
 
 " Oh, don't tell me the queen hasn't been 
 played, yet? Why, I thought it was out 
 ages ago oh, I really think I ought to 
 have that back " 
 
 '* What will he say when I answer him 
 that is, if I tell him the truth? How 
 will it sound? 'I do care for you but I 
 can't marry you just now, perhaps not for 
 several years, I can't say exactly when/ 
 The thing is incredible. A woman of my 
 age, presumably sane, to answer a pro- 
 posal of marriage in that fashion. Ah, if 
 only I were indifferent to him how easy 
 things would be; and yet what would I 
 have then in life? When Liol dies oh, 
 I can't think of that ! Where is he to-night, 
 I wonder? What is he doing? Liol, Liol! 
 if only you were dead ! and yet, oh, I can't 
 wish that. What will my life be when he 
 is gone? Gone! Think of it! How can I 
 marry, then? what will my life be worth? 
 how shall I live and hide my grief? oh, 
 Liol, Liol!" 
 
 " Upon my word, Mr. Coote ! where were
 
 A DECISION 215 
 
 your eyes? Didn't you know that the nine 
 of clubs wasn't out?" 
 
 "One thing is certain; much as I love 
 Gerald, nothing and nobody can ever be 
 to me what Liol was and is. Is that very 
 strange? am I entirely different to all other 
 girls. How could any strange man, how- 
 ever dear, be as much in your life as a 
 person like Liol, with whom your very 
 heart-strings were entwined; who came 
 when your heart was empty and filled it? 
 My Lionel! my little brother! my last 
 charge from my dead mother! Oh, if the 
 years could only be wiped out and if I 
 could see him again as he once was, the 
 same sweet dear child, how happily I could 
 die yes, how happily I could give up 
 everything Gerald, everything. But I 
 must live; and Lionel is oh, I can't say, 
 I can't think what he is; and he is dying 
 by inches; and there is only one other per- 
 son in the world for whom I care, only one 
 other person for whom I ever shall care 
 but him; and I may have to give him up. 
 If only Lionel didn't need me so; if only 
 he didn't need all my money, all my 
 thought, all my care imagine my desert-
 
 216 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 ing him and starting to choose a trousseau. 
 A trousseau! when any day he may need 
 a shroud." 
 
 " A penny for your thoughts, Lynn." 
 
 Mrs. Hadwell had come up, unnoticed 
 and was standing at Lynn's side. 
 
 " Did I startle you? " she asked, brightly. 
 " You were looking straight in front of you 
 like Cassandra or Joan of Arc or some 
 other unpleasant historical character. What 
 was it? Indigestion?" 
 
 " A fit of the blues, perhaps," said Lynn. 
 " Don't mind me, Del. It was most un- 
 grateful of me to cast a shade over the 
 festivities and, to tell you the truth, I 
 wasn't aware that I was doing it. Who 
 has the highest score? " 
 
 " Erma Reed, so far. Isn't she a beauty? 
 Lynn, what's the matter with you?" 
 
 " Nothing, silly! that is, nothing much. 
 You know we all get a little despondent at 
 times." 
 
 " But not you, that is, not until lately. 
 What has come over you? " 
 
 " Age, I suppose." 
 
 " If you don't want to confide in me, 
 don't "
 
 A DECISION 217 
 
 "I don't!" 
 
 " But I think it's most unkind, when 
 I always tell you everything." 
 
 '* There's nothing that I can confide in 
 you, silly-billy ! " said Lynn, rousing her- 
 self and speaking with forced cheerfulness. 
 " Nothing in the world. Now, will that 
 satisfy you? You know practically all my 
 affairs except those which concern other 
 people and which I have promised not to 
 tell." 
 
 "Is that true?" 
 
 ' There is just one thing which I might 
 tell you but, after all, it's nothing to 
 tell " 
 
 "Oh, what is it?" 
 
 " A man but this is silly for there is 
 really nothing to tell and, anyway, I don't 
 want to discuss it." 
 
 " How logical you are," said Mrs. Had- 
 well, calmly. " But I know all about that, 
 so you needn't bother. He is going to 
 propose to-night, he told me so. And he 
 begged me to make sure that he wasn't 
 deputed to take anyone else home, as you 
 had not answered his note and so he 
 couldn't be sure "
 
 218 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 "He told you! How queer! How very 
 unlike him! " 
 
 " I skated with him to-day and we had 
 tea together. And you know how I can 
 always make any man tell me the inmost 
 secret of his heart if I can once get him 
 alone for five minutes. And you're the 
 inmost core of his." 
 
 "Del!" 
 
 " He as good as told me so. And I prom- 
 ised to put in a good word for him. So 
 this is the good word. If you will be so 
 foolish as to refuse Lighton who is, by 
 far, the better match of the two why, 
 you might do worse than Amherst." 
 
 " Thank you." 
 
 " But I can't help hoping, of course, that 
 you will never be so foolish as to refuse 
 Lighton." 
 
 " Mr. Amherst would be delighted if he 
 could only hear your warm advocacy of his 
 cause." 
 
 " Oh, I told him what I was going to 
 say. I was perfectly frank. But I felt con- 
 strained to admit that you were such a 
 hopeless idiot that I was very much afraid 
 that you were going to refuse Lighton, if
 
 A DECISION 219 
 
 you had not done so, already. However, 
 as I said, you were quite capable of com- 
 mitting the lesser idiocy of refusing him, 
 afterwards. I don't know that I was quite 
 so nice a confidante as usual; but then you 
 must remember that Gerald Amherst abso- 
 lutely refused to sanction my efforts at 
 flirtation with him, this fall, and you can't 
 expect me to forgive that all at once. I 
 told him that, too/' 
 
 "Del!" 
 
 " Oh, he's a good sort. He said that, 
 once you accepted him, his mind would be 
 free and, if I would then renew my atten- 
 tions, he would accept them most grate- 
 fully always provided you didn't kick. 
 Well, he didn't put it just that way, but 
 that was his meaning. Only he didn't 
 mean a word of it. Lynn, if ever a man 
 was hopelessly enamoured of a woman, you 
 are that woman. You're doing pretty well, 
 all things considered. Two proposals in 
 one winter and one a good catch a par- 
 ticularly good catch don't glare so, Lynn, 
 it's rude! and the other an extremely nice 
 man and not too poor, either. My good- 
 ness! but you ought to be thankful. Look
 
 220 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 at the way some people work and work 
 and then don't get much at the end; and 
 here you just sit with hands folded, so to 
 speak, and watch the desirables canter in. 
 At your age, too! only you mustn't dally 
 any longer, you know; it's time to make 
 up your mind." 
 
 " Yes, you're right. It's high time I 
 made up my mind." 
 
 " Good. Now then, make it up." 
 
 " My dear, my mind isn't like a bed that 
 can be made up while you wait. I must 
 think a bit." 
 
 " What do you want to think about, I 
 should like to know? Are you weakening 
 on the idea of refusing Lighten?" 
 
 " No. To tell you the truth I may 
 just as well tell you, I suppose I've re- 
 fused him, already." 
 
 "What? When? Where? No, never 
 mind telling me, either. Let's stick to the 
 point. Now that you have refused him, 
 there is only one thing left to do marry 
 Amherst and thank your stars that he pro- 
 posed just when he did. Otherwise, every- 
 one would say that Lighton had neglected 
 to 'come up to scratch.' Gracious! how
 
 A DECISION 221 
 
 fortunate that you had two strings to your 
 bow." 
 
 " You know that old proverb about ' fall- 
 ing between two stools/ don't you?" Lynn 
 asked, smiling faintly. 
 
 " Yes, and it's perfect rubbish. The peo- 
 ple who talk about ' falling between two 
 stools ' are the people who've never had 
 but one stool in their lives and who've sat 
 firmly down on that to prevent it getting 
 up and running away. Two stools, indeed ! 
 Twenty, if you can get them! But two 
 will do very nicely indeed, when they are 
 two like these. One being gone, you grab 
 the other just as quickly as you know how. 
 Now don't stop to tell me that I am get- 
 ting vulgar; practical people always seem 
 vulgar to visionaries. The question is, 
 what are you going to say to Amherst to- 
 night?" 
 
 " I'm not going to say anything, Del, for 
 I simply can't let him take me home. I 
 must have a little more time to think. No, 
 don't argue; I am serious. Tell him that 
 I am frightfully tired which is literally 
 true and that you have asked me to 
 spend the night here; but that, if he will
 
 222 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 be so good as to take me home after the 
 hockey match to-morrow night, I shall be 
 eternally obliged. Or no, don't put it like 
 that; say that oh well, say what you 
 think best, Del, you always know how to 
 put these things. Really I am so tired 
 that I simply can't think to-night. Will 
 you arrange it for me? and you won't 
 mind putting me up for the night, will 
 you?" 
 
 " No, dear child, I shall be delighted to 
 have you. And I'll give him the message 
 though I think you are foolish to postpone 
 the thing. But I won't tease you, for I 
 am sure you are going to be sensible in 
 the end; and we won't talk any more about 
 it if you don't want to. See here, do look 
 at that table! and please listen to the con- 
 versation between Agatha and that unfor- 
 tunate wretch of a Haldern. I know who 
 won't be Agatha's ' latest.' Do listen." 
 
 " But excuse me for asking, Miss 
 Ladilaw but what did you make it 
 'no trumps' on?" inquired a masculine 
 voice. 
 
 "Why --why why, I'll tell you, Mr. 
 Haldern," said Agatha looking up at him,
 
 A DECISION 223 
 
 confidingly. " My own hand was so per- 
 fectly awful so appalling that I felt 
 sure Dummy must have a lot of aces and 
 things. But you see it didn't." 
 
 " But, in that case, why didn't you leave 
 it to me?" 
 
 " Because I I was so afraid that you 
 would make it spades. And I had quite 
 good diamonds." 
 
 "But don't you see?" 
 
 " Oh, I always believe in trusting some- 
 thing to Dummy," Agatha interrupted gen- 
 tly but with an air of finality. " Don't let 
 us discuss it any further, Mr. Haldern." 
 
 " Del," whispered Lynn to her hostess, 
 :< I may not be very kind-hearted, but I 
 would not inflict Agatha on any man." 
 
 " Oh, they'll change partners at the next 
 table. And I think it's good for men to 
 play with Agatha: they appreciate the next 
 partner they get so much more than they 
 otherwise would. Well, Lynn, how do you 
 like my twins? " 
 
 "Charming; and they do seem to enjoy 
 everything so. Did they only get here to- 
 day? They look so cheerful and fresh. I 
 thought they would probably want to rest,
 
 224 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 the first evening; but they seem to be en- 
 joying it." 
 
 " Yes. They're nineteen. At nineteen 
 one enjoys everything but rest. I knew 
 that and so I determined to start in with- 
 out a moment's delay. I'm perfectly de- 
 lighted with them, myself. I don't see how 
 in the world that old curmudgeon of a 
 brother of Henry's ever contrived to have 
 two such good-looking, good-humoured 
 children. And their names are so cute 
 Bert and Bertie; and the likeness is some- 
 thing extraordinary." 
 
 It was. Lynn, who had elected to remain 
 outside the game and keep her hostess com- 
 pany, glanced from the cosy corner where 
 she was ensconced to a table in the middle 
 of the room where Miss Bertha Hadwell 
 was sitting: then a little further on to 
 where Mr. Albert Hadwell was scooping 
 up tricks with a dexterity which bespoke 
 long practice. The boy was slightly, very 
 slightly taller than the girl; but, apart 
 from that, one might have fancied that one 
 was the other's double. The same olive 
 cheeks, slightly tinged with rose-red: the 
 same impish, restless dark eyes: the same
 
 A DECISION 225 
 
 long, thin mouth, ever parting to show 
 gleaming, irregular white teeth. 
 
 They were an attractive pair: and 
 Lynn's eyes rested on them for several 
 moments before they wandered slowly over 
 the rest of the room. The usual company 
 was present: the pretty girl who never 
 counted the tricks and continually appealed 
 to her partner to tell her "what was 
 trumps"; the stout woman who remem- 
 bered everything and berated her confrere 
 soundly if he forgot the thirteenth card; 
 the mild-looking man who smiled sweetly 
 as his lady partners trumped his tricks and 
 cursed them bitterly on his way home; the 
 pompous man who never failed to instruct 
 all the rest of the table; the excitable de- 
 butante who invariably dropped the wrong 
 card on the trick, then shrieked aloud and 
 sought permission to " take it back " on 
 the ground that she " hadn't been think- 
 ing"; and, last but not least, the bad-tem- 
 pered man who regarded bridge as a relig- 
 ion, and burned to slay the sacrilegious ones 
 who violated its tenets. 
 
 " Oh, Lynn," whispered Mrs. Hadwell 
 with a sigh of contentment, " aren't people
 
 226 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 a treat? I wonder if they're getting hun- 
 gry. Do you think I had better give or- 
 ders to have supper served? " 
 
 " It mightn't be a bad idea. Let me go 
 with you, Del." 
 
 " Such a queer thing has happened to-day, 
 Lynn," whispered Mrs. Hadwell, confiden- 
 tially, as they went out together. ' You 
 remember my speaking to you of my prize 
 housekeeper? the one beside whose frigid 
 nature my own showed in the light of a 
 volcano? Well, she has actually shown 
 signs of being human for once. To-day 
 she approached me with a request for an 
 extra night out: at least she didn't call it 
 that, but it was practically what she wanted. 
 Under the circumstances the twins ar- 
 riving and the bridge people coming here, 
 to-night I demurred a little and asked 
 if to-morrow wouldn't do. She then told 
 me with an air of wishing she didn't 
 have to that General Shaftan the Gen- 
 eral Shaftan had been an old friend of 
 hers in childhood days; and that she had 
 just received an urgent message, asking 
 that she go without fail to his house to- 
 night. He must be better; it is queer, for
 
 A DECISION 227 
 
 I understood that he had been quite given 
 up: he has two nurses and is never left 
 for a moment, day or night. Imagine! 
 Of course I told her to go but what in 
 the world do you suppose it means? You 
 know the story about the General and the 
 bewitching Langham-Greene, of course? 
 They were engaged to be married some 
 twenty years ago when Langham-Greene 
 who was plain Bill Greene, then hove 
 upon the scene with his half a million: and 
 ' the scene was changed/ My lady dropped 
 Shaftan like a hot potato and transformed 
 Bill into a Benedict and a Langham- 
 Greene. Then she drove him to drink: at 
 least they say so! I don't believe, myself, 
 that he took much driving. At all events 
 he was thoughtful enough to drink himself 
 to death: and thoughtless enough to spec- 
 ulate and leave her very poorly off com- 
 paratively speaking, of course! Shaftan, in 
 the meantime, had left the city and gone to 
 India: and just about the time that Bill 
 Greene drank his last glass, he blossomed 
 out as a General and dear knows what all. 
 Wasn't it rich? Poor Julia thought she 
 had only to hold out a welcoming hand,
 
 228 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 when he returned; but to every one's sur- 
 prise, he had neither forgotten nor for- 
 given. If he had even refused to meet her 
 it would have been some solace to her van- 
 ity, but he was quite ready to go so far and 
 was extremely polite when he did: only he 
 would never talk to her if he could help 
 it. She gave him up at last as a bad job. 
 Now, when the papers can talk of nothing 
 else but the career of the famous General 
 Shaftan and his approaching death he sends 
 for my housekeeper and by the way, Mrs. 
 Waite knew the Langham-Greene well when 
 she was a girl, for the latter told me so, 
 adding in her pleasant way that the poor 
 thing had never had but the one offer which 
 she accepted." 
 
 " I wish she had said that to me." 
 " She knows your tongue too well, my 
 dear. And you make a great mistake in 
 not conciliating the creature. Never make 
 an enemy of a cad, male or female; for 
 ' it ' can use weapons which you would dis- 
 dain to touch, and those weapons are fre- 
 quently poisoned. If you must make ene- 
 mies, make them of honourable people, who 
 will simply let you alone, and not be trying
 
 A DECISION 229 
 
 to injure you; and be careful to see that 
 every obnoxious kind of human reptile loves 
 you. But what's the use of talking? one 
 can't teach you common sense." 
 
 When the business of ascertaining the 
 highest scores had been attended to Miss 
 Erma Reed was found to be the winner of 
 the lady's prize. Mrs. Hadwell was much 
 amused by the warmth of Mr. Bert Had- 
 well's congratulations. Such plaudits as 
 he bestowed upon her are rarely called 
 forth by the most amazing skill: and his 
 aunt by marriage laughed and pinched 
 Miss Thayer's arm as she listened to 
 them. 
 
 ' When one considers Erma's height and 
 proportions and the almost unnatural white- 
 ness of her skin, one sees that it is merely 
 to be expected that such a slender and 
 brown individual as Bert should be im- 
 pressed by her cleverness at bridge. . . . 
 Here is your prize, dear! I am so glad you 
 won it and I think it will go nicely with 
 your pretty dress." 
 
 " It " was a pearl pendant which Erma 
 received with something as nearly ap- 
 proaching animation as that stately and
 
 2 3 o THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 somewhat shy damsel ever showed. She 
 was, beyond all doubt, one of the most 
 beautiful girls in Montreal; her absolutely 
 flawless skin and generous though grace- 
 ful proportions instinctively recalling the 
 masterpieces of Grecian sculpture. Yet it 
 was a cold beauty, unlit by intellectual or 
 mirthful fires: and some of the unthinking 
 who merely assimilate the general effect 
 without noticing details had been heard to 
 say openly that they preferred Mrs. Had- 
 well's vivacious prettiness to the younger 
 woman's more stately charms. No one had 
 laughed more freely at this than Mrs. Had- 
 well, herself. She was well aware that, 
 devoid of artificial advantages, she would 
 be a most insignificant little nonentity, but 
 that fact gave her no uneasiness and dimin- 
 ished nothing of her graciousness toward 
 the younger and prettier girls who thronged 
 her entertainments and sang her praises 
 without stint. Yet she could not bear 
 " green girls." 
 
 " Lynn," she would say to her friend, 
 " you have no idea what a comfort it is to 
 feel that I can get awav from them some- 
 times and take a rest with you. After these
 
 A DECISION 231 
 
 giggling, insipid debutantes you are like a 
 a cocktail ! Yet it is the thing for nice 
 women to be adored by young girls and 
 so I must be adored, worse luck! "
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 "BE PITIFUL, O GOD!" 
 
 " O God ! to clasp those fingers close and yet to feel so 
 
 lonely, 
 
 To see a light within those eyes that is the daylight only 
 Be pitiful, O God ! " 
 
 E. Barrett Browning. 
 
 AMY WAITE walked swiftly down 
 the path which led from Hadwell 
 Heights to Pine Avenue. The night 
 was a cold one; the moon hung bright and 
 glittering in the starlit heavens and the 
 white, still earth seemed to her as cruel as 
 Life, as inexorable as Time. She shivered 
 as she walked and drew her shabby fur 
 more closely around her throat. When 
 would this cruel walk end? When would 
 this crueler interview be over? 
 
 She reached her destination at length and 
 rang the bell. General Shaftan had no rel- 
 atives in Montreal, but his fame and char- 
 acter had won him many friends. Yet he 
 lay dying alone in his handsome house; 
 
 232
 
 "BE PITIFUL, O GOD!" 233 
 
 alone, save for the ministrations of a hired 
 nurse. Mrs. Waite's thin lips curved in a 
 smile more tragic than most tears are as 
 she stood on the doorstep of the silent 
 house while the keen winds blew dismally 
 about her. Alone! What freak had made 
 him send for her at such a time? 
 
 A silent man-servant admitted and con- 
 ducted her upstairs. Amy paused long 
 enough to remove her wraps and, while 
 she waited, the nurse came out from the 
 sickroom and spoke, softly. 
 
 ' The General is failing fast," she whis- 
 pered. " He was determined to see you 
 this evening and so I sent you that urgent 
 message. This afternoon he saw his law- 
 yer on business connected with his will and 
 I wanted him to wait till to-morrow for 
 this, but he would not. He seemed to fear 
 that he might not live to see another day." 
 Her voice trembled; she was a kind- 
 hearted soul and the General had a way 
 of endearing himself to all with whom he 
 came in contact. Mrs. Waite, however, 
 stood erect and tearless, and the nurse, after 
 a half-wondering, half-resentful glance, di- 
 rected her to enter.
 
 234 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 " He wants to see you, alone," she said, 
 reluctantly. " But, if any change should 
 take place in him, be sure to let me know 
 at once." 
 
 Mrs. Waite gave the required promise 
 and left her. The General lay, half-propped 
 up with pillows; his bronzed face was pale 
 with the pallor of approaching dissolution, 
 but his eyes were the eyes of twenty. 
 Amy's dead youth sprang to sudden life 
 beneath them and something akin to the 
 hopeless, useless rapture of thirty years 
 ago awoke and cried in her heart. Her 
 face was set and pallid, and the hands which 
 clasped the dying soldier's were cold as his 
 own. They looked at one another in silence 
 which the woman could not break. The 
 man spoke at last, a little disappointed at 
 her lack of feeling. 
 
 "Well, Amy?" he whispered, half-quiz- 
 zically. 
 
 'You wanted to see me, Arnold?" 
 
 " I did .very much. I'm dying I sup- 
 pose you know that, eh?" 
 
 ' I had heard so. I didn't know " 
 
 " Oh, it's true enough. Don't I show in 
 my looks that I am? "
 
 "BE PITIFUL, O GOD!" 235 
 
 Amy did not answer immediately nor did 
 her face betray any especial interest in the 
 statement. The General, after scrutinizing 
 her closely, almost anxiously for a moment, 
 relinquished her hand and laughed, half in 
 amusement, half in disappointment. 
 
 " You're a cold-blooded little creature, 
 Amy," he cried. " You always were. But 
 you're a faithful little soul I'd trust you 
 through thick and thin and I want to do 
 something for you before I go. Also I 
 want you to help me to pay off old scores 
 and spite my lady Julia you won't mind 
 lending a hand in that, I'll wager." His 
 still brilliant grey eyes twinkled signifi- 
 cantly. 
 
 Amy watched him passively and smiled a 
 little, wondering why an ugly, faded woman 
 of forty-eight with a sordid past should feel 
 as keenly and cruelly as an untrained girl 
 of eighteen. No answer suggested itself 
 and she sat in silence, watching the dying 
 man and wishing that she, herself, had died 
 long ago. 
 
 The General laughed feebly as he looked 
 at her. She was, as he had told her, such 
 a cold-blooded little thing rather unpleas-
 
 236 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 antly like a fish but, after all, poor little 
 soul! she had had a beastly hard time of 
 it; why, she looked like an old woman at 
 fifty. He could do one good turn to a 
 friend before he died, at all events. 
 
 " Amy," he said at last, " give me your 
 hand, little woman! I want to know if 
 you will marry me. Don't look surprised: 
 this is no freak. You see if we are married 
 I can leave you all my money I am not 
 poor, though I am not rich and it's only 
 right that you should have some comfort 
 before you die. Then, too, I want to pre- 
 vent Mrs. Julia from saying what she will 
 say as soon as I am dead that I always 
 wanted her and died of grief as well as of 
 my wound, because of her refusal. She 
 
 shan't say that, by She spoilt my life 
 
 and I'll not die till I've paid her back a 
 little. It seems queer," he went on, with 
 the radiant, mischievous smile that had 
 made his listener's heart ache in the old 
 days, " it seems queer to die a married man, 
 Amy, after living a single one all my life. 
 But it's never too late to mend. How thin 
 your hand is, you poor little thing! You've 
 had hard luck, haven't you?" He relapsed
 
 "BE PITIFUL, O GOD!" 237 
 
 into silence, staring steadily at the wall at 
 the foot of his bed. His eyes grew glazed 
 and feverish. 
 
 "Don't leave me," he muttered. "Julia! 
 Julia!" 
 
 Amy started and winced. 
 
 "You're a beastly little flirt," he went 
 on, angrily, gripping her hand till she with 
 difficulty refrained from crying out with 
 pain, " a heartless, despicable little flirt and 
 I despise you from the bottom of my soul 
 
 but, O God! I can't help loving you. 
 No other woman has ever been to me 
 what you were and you threw me 
 
 over," he went on, slowly, with a hard, 
 cruel expression, "for Greene. Greene! 
 the miserable, worthless sot! Well, you 
 made one mistake, my lady, didn't you? 
 . . . But don't turn away, Julia ! " he went 
 on, imploringly, "don't turn away from 
 me! I can't stand it. ... Your hand is 
 cold you don't care O my God ! you 
 don't care!" His voice rose almost to a 
 wail. " Julia ! " he cried. " Julia ! my dar- 
 ling, my darling! say it's a mistake! 
 You're not what you pretend to be you 
 can't be! Julia!"
 
 238 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 He sank back exhausted and his face re- 
 laxed. A look of intense relief overspread 
 his features and his lips formed a smile of 
 great beauty and tenderness. 
 
 "Julia!" he murmured softly. Then he 
 died. 
 
 Amy sat quite unmoved and looked at the 
 rigid figure. She showed no particular 
 emotion; yet the peace which made the 
 dead face so beautiful was lacking in the 
 living. Some minutes elapsed. She rose 
 at last and stood for a moment, looking 
 down. About that lifeless thing on the 
 bed had clustered all her poor, starved life 
 had held of love and romance. She bent 
 slowly toward it ; then straightened, a faint 
 red colour in her sallow cheek. 
 
 "No!" she said, almost proudly. 
 
 She rang the bell. 
 
 " The General has just died," she said in 
 level, unemotional accents. '' It was very 
 sudden. It was impossible to call you. I 
 am sorry." 
 
 The big-hearted nurse looked at her with 
 hearty repulsion and dislike and burst into 
 a flood of tears. There seemed no partic-
 
 "BE PITIFUL, O GOD!" 239 
 
 ular "reason for waiting further; Amy 
 moved mechanically to the door and down 
 the steps; and so passed quietly into the 
 bitter night.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 THE HOCKEY MATCH 
 
 " The day is short, the evening cometh fast ; 
 The time of choosing, Love, will soon be past; 
 The outer darkness falleth, Love, at last. 
 Love, let us love ere it be late too late ! 
 
 Once, only, Love, may love's sweet song be sung, 
 But once, Love, at our feet life's flower is flung; 
 Once, Love, once only, Love, can we be young." 
 
 Anon. 
 
 iHE Montreal Arena is a building of 
 considerable size, capable of ac- 
 commodating many thousands. It 
 has been the scene of many a revel; horses, 
 prima donnas, vegetables, all have exhib- 
 ited here at one time or another; from Calve, 
 who raved with indignation at the idea of 
 singing in such a place, to Emperor, the 
 finest horse in Canada, who made no objec- 
 tion, whatever. Only a hockey match, 
 however, can count positively on filling it 
 from wall to wall. 
 
 240
 
 THE HOCKEY MATCH 241 
 
 To-night was the Wales-Conquerors 
 match: and many a business man of ma- 
 ture years had sent his office boy days be- 
 fore to " stand in line " from nine to eleven 
 on a bitter winter morning in order to pro- 
 cure tickets. Mrs. Hadwell had secured 
 six seats and had organized a party to es- 
 cort her American guests thither. She, 
 however, had not accompanied them, 
 frankly acknowledging the obvious fact 
 that she was " no sport." 
 
 " I do love to be fin-de-siecle," she had 
 said. " But, when it comes to hockey or 
 pug dogs well, I simply can't, that's all." 
 Then she had told a plaintive tale of how, 
 when a girl, she had been taken to a hockey 
 match. Her escort had been an enthusiast 
 of the most virulent type; and she had 
 been obliged to feign a joy which she by 
 no means felt. 
 
 " It was ghastly," she observed, " ghastly. 
 There I sat, huddled in grandmother's seal- 
 skin which wasn't a bit becoming, and 
 watched a lot of weird things dressed like 
 circus clowns knocking a bit of rubber 
 round a slippery rink. And all those poor 
 misguided beings who had paid two, three
 
 242 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 and five dollars to see them do it yelled 
 like mad whenever the rubber got taken 
 down a little faster than usual oh, you 
 may laugh! but I can tell you that when 
 one of those silly men whacked another 
 silly man over the head when the umpire 
 wasn't looking because the second ass had 
 hit that absurd bit of rubber oftener than 
 he, the first ass, had why, I felt sorry 
 to think that the human species to which 
 I belonged was so devoid of sense. And 
 that great goat who stood at one end and 
 tried to stop the thing from getting be- 
 tween two sticks! why did everyone think 
 he was a hero when he managed to get his 
 two big feet together in time to stop the 
 rubber from getting through? I don't see 
 anything very clever in putting your feet 
 together and letting a rubber thing come 
 bang against your toes, do you? 
 
 "But what's the use of talking! You 
 must think it clever. You must! or why 
 should you go? Where is the attraction? 
 Do you like hearing those wild-looking men 
 shouting insults at the men who don't play 
 on their team? Does it amuse you to hear 
 them snarling, 'Dirty Smith! Putimoff!'
 
 THE HOCKEY MATCH 243 
 
 'Butcher Brown! Knockiseadoff, Robin- 
 son! ' It is incomprehensible to me. I shall 
 always remember Alice Mann's proud face 
 as she watched her brother chasing round 
 while the crowd hailed him by the dignified 
 and endearing title of ' Dirty Mann/ I 
 think that, if I had a brother and heard 
 him called ' Dirty Mann ' in public, I should 
 want to leave the city." 
 
 Accordingly Mrs. Hadwell had stayed 
 at home; but a merry and expectant party 
 had met at Hadwell Heights and had 
 driven to the Arena, where they sat now, 
 awaiting the fray. It would be some time 
 before this began, so the young strangers 
 had time to look about them and comment 
 on the various spectators. Ladies wrapped 
 in costly furs sat side by side with shabbily 
 dressed men, who, in spite of the printed 
 reminder that smoke was forbidden, ejected 
 a constant stream in the air, the while they 
 hoarsely sang the merits of their favourite 
 team and the demerits of the opposing one. 
 Small boys perched on the rafters, looking 
 as though a finger touch would hurl them 
 to instant destruction. 
 
 " If one of them did fall," inquired Bertie,
 
 244 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 with a shudder, " wouldn't he be instantly 
 killed?" 
 
 " If he were lucky," returned her com- 
 panion, a young McGill professor named 
 Donovan, cheerfully. " Otherwise he might 
 only injure himself for life." 
 
 " But " 
 
 " But you see, Miss Hadwell, none of 
 them ever do fall. Not one boy has ever 
 lost his hold, as far as I know. If one of 
 them did get killed of course it would be 
 stopped." 
 
 " But don't they get awfully excited ? " 
 
 " Excited ! They go mad. But they 
 don't fall." 
 
 " You see," interposed Gerald Amherst, 
 " they never think about it. If one of them 
 stopped clapping and wriggling and began 
 to measure the space from his airy perch 
 to the ice, below; and furthermore medi- 
 tate on the consistency and solidity of the 
 aforesaid ice and the probable fate of any- 
 one whose head came in contact with it 
 after a fall of seventy to a hundred feet 
 why, he would drop, that's all. They are 
 occupied with more important matters, 
 however; the merits of Smith as a goal-
 
 THE HOCKEY MATCH 245 
 
 keeper, the demerits of Brown as a forward 
 they have no time to muse upon their 
 latter end and the thin veil that lies be- 
 tween them and eternity." 
 
 " I'm glad they haven't; for my part I'm 
 convinced that I shall have nightmare after 
 seeing them. Is that your what is the 
 band playing for? Oh, is that the Vice- 
 Regal party? Dear me! what is every one 
 rising for? Must I get up, too?" 
 
 Her voice was drowned in the strains of 
 the National Anthem which was howled 
 enthusiastically by boxes and rafters, alike. 
 As, " God save the King " died into silence 
 the Governor-General bowed and took his 
 seat; while his daughters gazed with in- 
 terest about the Arena which they were 
 visiting for the first time. 
 
 " Observe his coat," said Mr. Donovan. 
 " Feast your American eyes on it. That 
 coat was bought by Lord Dufferin, and left 
 by him to be worn by his successors. The 
 sleeves are quite out of style by this time; 
 but you see ' This is a man ! ' What's your 
 opinion of him, on the whole?" 
 
 ' Why, I think good gracious, what's 
 that!" *
 
 246 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 A roar that shook the roof arose as the 
 opposing teams emerged from the waiting 
 room and skated upon the ice. The scarlet 
 sweaters and caps of the Conquerors 
 stained the crystal ice with daubs of blood: 
 and the more sombre hues of the Wales 
 showed with almost equal effect. 
 
 "Oh, are they beginning?" cried Bertie 
 in ecstasy. 
 
 They were. The whistle blew and both 
 sides skated to the centre to receive the 
 customary warning. 
 
 " They both seem pretty cool," remarked 
 Mr. Amherst. " No signs of nervousness 
 that I can see." 
 
 "Not a particle. Look! who has won 
 the toss? The Conquerors? Hurrah! You 
 must say ' Hurrah ! ' too, Mr. Hadwell, 
 whenever anything nice happens to the 
 Conquerors. It's no fun unless you choose 
 a team." 
 
 'Why is the Conquerors your team?" 
 
 " Because oh, because the captain's 
 father was baptized by my grandfather, I 
 believe. There is some such reason, but, 
 for the moment, I forget just what it is. 
 Any reason will do, you know; the point
 
 THE HOCKEY MATCH 247 
 
 is that you must have a favourite team and 
 shout whenever it scores and groan with 
 indignation whenever the other team does. 
 Do you see? " 
 
 "I see. When am I to begin? and how 
 am I to let the public know what I am 
 groaning about?" 
 
 " Oh, the public will know if you groan 
 in the right place that is, when the other 
 team does well. Oh, look! there goes the 
 puck!" 
 
 It dashed across the ice, followed by a 
 mass of skimming, pursuing forms; and, 
 for the next few moments, silence reigned. 
 Then a shout arose, "Off-side!" 
 
 " Off-side " it was ; and the indignant 
 audience hurled insults impartially at both 
 teams; no one seeming very sure as to 
 which was " off-side," but each assuming 
 that it could not be a member of his fa- 
 vourite team. The Conquerors lost to the 
 Wales this time and the latter passed to 
 one of his team who succeeded in sending 
 the puck flying toward the goal. Intense 
 excitement reigned: would he succeed in 
 getting the puck past the goal-keeper? No: 
 the latter deftly turned it aside; and a roar
 
 248 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 of mingled delight and disappointment 
 arose which made the American girl start 
 and put her hands to her ears. 
 
 " Do they often make such a noise? " she 
 asked, involuntarily. 
 
 " I should think so," answered Donovan, 
 staring. ' You don't mind it, do you? Oh, 
 shame on you, Parton! what are you think- 
 ing about, Umpire? don't mind me, Miss 
 Hadwell, I'm just Hurray! Bully for 
 you, Marsh! oh, good work, old boy. 
 You're the stuff! Push it along Hur- 
 ray! " 
 
 The puck had passed and the Conquerors 
 had drawn first blood. In the first wild 
 shriek that rose Bertie was conscious chiefly 
 of one thing everybody's mouth was 
 wide open. No individual shriek could be 
 distinguished, yet, judging from appear- 
 ances, every one, from the Governor-Gen- 
 eral in his box to the smallest imp on the 
 highest rafter, was shouting himself hoarse. 
 Slowly the excitement subsided; slowly the 
 spectators sank back into the seats which 
 they had vacated; and, after a minute or 
 two of preparation, the game recommenced. 
 
 " Never tell me again that the English
 
 THE HOCKEY MATCH 249 
 
 are a cold race," Bertie remarked solemnly 
 as the party took their seats in Mrs. Had- 
 well's carriage at the close of the evening. 
 " I have read of such things, but I never 
 expected to see them in Canada. I could 
 go to a hockey match every night in the 
 week. It's grand! And, Mr. Donovan, if 
 the Wales had won as I thought at one 
 time they would I believe I should have 
 cried myself to sleep. Oh, you needn't 
 laugh! I mean it." 
 
 An hour or so later, after the assembled 
 guests had partaken of a supper at Had- 
 well Heights, Lynn and Gerald Amherst 
 left together and walked slowly in the di- 
 rection of the city. It was midnight and 
 the streets were practically deserted. For 
 a short time they walked on in silence, 
 neither caring to speak of anything except 
 the subject which was uppermost in the 
 minds of both. Finally, however, Gerald 
 broke the silence. 
 
 r< Lynn," he said, very quietly, " I have 
 tried to tell you something several times. 
 You have always turned the subject in one 
 way or another. This has been going on 
 now for a long time, for a very long time.
 
 2 5 o THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 I can't have it. I must know to-night, what 
 it is to be. You don't understand, I think, 
 how hard this is on me; if you did, you 
 wouldn't be vexed with me for speaking so 
 plainly." He paused. 
 
 "I am not vexed with you. I had 
 rather you spoke, plainly but" 
 
 " But there it is, again. You seem 
 uneasy, almost unhappy about the matter. 
 Yet I don't think you altogether dislike 
 me; in fact in fact there have been times 
 when I was sure you cared then when I 
 saw you next, you were quite different, 
 altogether different. You seemed to avoid 
 me. I know it is quite impossible to under- 
 stand a woman, but, some way, I can't help 
 hoping. You are so sincere in other ways 
 that I think you would be sincere even 
 about a thing like this. Now tell me! 
 There is some trouble, some difficulty, I 
 know. Won't you tell me what it is?" 
 
 " Oh, no I can't." 
 
 "Why not? Is it that you are thinking" 
 of some one else of Harold Lighton, for 
 instance and that you can't be sure as 
 to which you prefer " 
 
 " No, that is not it. You have been
 
 THE HOCKEY MATCH 251 
 
 frank; and I will be frank in return. I 
 prefer you to any other man that I have 
 ever known." 
 
 " Then " 
 
 "No, stop! You don't understand me. 
 I did not say that I wanted to marry you 
 and " 
 
 ' You mean that you don't care 
 enough, is that it? " 
 
 " N-no. I can't say that, exactly." 
 
 'What then?" he asked, eagerly; but 
 Lynn was silent, staring at the lights of 
 the distant city. 
 
 " Lynn ! what in God's name do you 
 mean? Think! Think of what you have 
 said. In one breath you almost allow that 
 you care for me; and, in the next, you say, 
 practically, that you can't marry me. 
 What does it all mean?" 
 
 " I can't tell you." 
 
 " You must. Try." 
 
 !< I know that I must sound ridiculous 
 and unreasonable to you, but the fact re- 
 mains. I do love you; I can't bear to let 
 you go away without telling you so. But 
 for reasons which which I can't explain 
 I don't think that I can marry you."
 
 252 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 " But, Lynn, what in the world can you 
 mean? You have no ties! nothing that can 
 bind you down or prevent you from doing 
 as you please. What do you mean?' 3 
 
 Lynn walked on in silence for a little 
 while, then turned. Her face was white. 
 
 " I can't marry you, Gerald," she said, 
 distinctly. 
 
 "Why not? There's some one else?" 
 
 " No not in the way you mean." 
 
 ' Then it's just that you don't care 
 enough. It must be." 
 
 She said nothing, but bit her lips and 
 quivered. 
 
 " You do care," he burst forth, suddenly. 
 " Lynn, you do care. I know it. I feel it- 
 You have taken some crazy notion in your 
 head, some fanatical idea or other. Tell 
 me! I insist on knowing what it is. If 
 you care for me you will confide in me 
 about this. You must see how cruelly un- 
 fair it is to tell me that you can't marry 
 me and to refuse to even let me know the 
 reason. Tell me! Even if it is something 
 which prevents our marrying now, the dif- 
 ficulty may be surmounted in a few years' 
 time. Tell me."
 
 -55 
 
 Lynn started and turned toward hfm, her 
 face suddenly iMuminated. 
 
 " Do you ? " she cried, breathlessly, ** do 
 yon oh, it isn't right, I oughtn't to ask 
 it but do yon care enough to wait to 
 wait perhaps, for a year, or even two 
 years and keep our the engagement se- 
 cret? ' 
 
 '* \Vhy, of course I do. What's two 
 years against a life-time? But, Lynn, I 
 don't like secrecy. Can't yon teH me what 
 all this means ? " 
 
 She paused, then spoke, weighing each 
 word, carefully. 
 
 " I have a trouble, a care; something 
 which prevents me from even thinking of 
 marriage. It concerns other people and I 
 can tell you nothing about it. But, at any 
 time, I may be released from it. Per- 
 haps in a week perhaps not for years 
 but eventually I shall be free broken- 
 hearted and old with grief but free, T01 
 then. And even then, understand clearly, 
 Gerald, I can explain, nothing nothing. 
 Xow I have told you the truth so far as 
 I am able: and you see for yourself how 
 hopeless it is. Leave me, I am plain and
 
 254 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 sad and old. Marry some one else, Gerald, 
 and forget me." 
 
 " Some one else ! Lynn, my dear, dear 
 girl, you don't know what nonsense you're 
 talking. Only say that you'll marry me 
 promise me that and everything else 
 may slide. To-morrow a year three 
 years what does it matter, as long as 
 you come to me in the end? " 
 
 " But no one must know oh, Gerald, 
 it can't be right to hold you. I shouldn't." 
 
 " Perfectly right and perfectly wise ; if, 
 for any reason, you are obliged to keep it 
 secret. Only, Lynn, you must promise me 
 one thing. The moment that you are re- 
 leased from your obligation, whatever it 
 may be, you must tell me. Promise me 
 that you will let no false motives of deli- 
 cacy stand in your way, but will come and 
 tell me that you are ready to marry me, the 
 instant that the obstacle is removed. I 
 won't even ask what it is; I shall only ask 
 that you promise me this." 
 
 And Lynn promised.
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 A SCANDAL VERIFIED 
 
 " I'm not denying that women are foolish : God Almighty 
 made 'em to match the men." George Eliot. 
 
 "/GRACIOUS, man! do give those 
 
 1 TT unfortunate eyes of yours a rest. 
 
 I should think they would ache, 
 
 the way you roll them. Besides, it's such 
 
 a waste of time to make eyes at me." 
 
 " I don't think so." 
 
 " I suppose it keeps you in practice," 
 Miss Bent remarked, sardonically. 
 
 ;< I beg your pardon?" 
 
 " I said," repeated Miss Bent, slowly and 
 deliberately, "that I supposed that it 
 kept you in practice to make 
 eyes at me ! " 
 
 " It does. But that's not the only reason 
 I do it." 
 
 Miss Bent eyed him with extreme dis- 
 favour. 
 
 255
 
 256 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 " How silly you are," she said, snub- 
 bingly. 
 
 " Now that's unworthy of you," her com- 
 panion returned. " Its rudeness is worthy 
 of you, but not its stupidity. Ordinarily 
 your remarks are witty, even when they are 
 rude, but this " 
 
 " Has only truth to recommend it." 
 
 ' I don't care for verbal gymnastics." 
 
 ' Your likes and dislikes are not " 
 
 "A matter of interest to you? no, I sup- 
 pose not. And you see that relieves me 
 from considering yours. Take the present 
 case, for instance. I feel like making eyes, 
 as you rudely call it, at you: therefore I 
 make them " 
 
 "And make them very badly!" interpo- 
 lated the well-bred Miss Bent. 
 
 ' You are no judge, being by nature in- 
 capable of doing anything in the eye-ma- 
 king way at all." 
 
 "Ah!" said Miss Bent, reflectively, 
 " there is no saying how well I might make 
 eyes if I saw anything worth making eyes 
 at. But, I say, don't be cross." 
 
 "I'm not!" 
 
 " No, of course not : but don't, anyway,
 
 A SCANDAL VERIFIED 257 
 
 for I want to tell you something and some 
 way I can't talk to cross people " 
 
 " But I tell you I'm not " 
 
 "Dear, dear! there you are again with 
 a face flaming with rage, interrupting me 
 and contradicting me." 
 
 Mr. Ogden opened his mouth; then shut 
 it with an air of determination, as though 
 he really might have replied, had he chosen. 
 
 " And now you're glaring at me as if you 
 were beside yourself with rage. Why don't 
 you try to be reasonable? " 
 
 The unhappy Mr. Ogden stared wildly 
 but ventured no remark. 
 
 " I suppose I may go on now," Miss 
 Bent said in a rather pointed manner when 
 a moment of silence had elapsed. ' What 
 I began to tell you half an hour ago only 
 you would keep interrupting me was 
 that Mrs. Hadwell is giving all sorts of 
 things for those cousins, or whatever they 
 are, of hers from the States. And she has 
 asked me to a theatre party and a tobog- 
 ganing party, so I think I ought to give 
 something for them. What would you 
 suggest? " 
 
 Mr. Ogden looked perplexed.
 
 258 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 " Surely you're not sulking all this 
 time!" said Miss Bent, rather sadly. 
 
 " I don't know what you mean. I never 
 sulk." 
 
 ' Then, perhaps, instead of sulking, you 
 will answer my question," said Miss Bent 
 with asperity. 
 
 Mr. Ogden laughed. 
 
 " I should suggest a drive," he hazarded. 
 " A drive by moonlight and a supper after- 
 wards." 
 
 " Perhaps that would be the best plan," 
 said Miss Bent, thoughtfully. "Who 
 would you ask? " 
 
 " Me, for one." 
 
 "Oh, yes, I suppose so, but O dear! 
 has my snowshoe come off, again?" 
 
 " Let me fix it." 
 
 "What do you suppose is the reason?" 
 
 'The reason? You didn't let me do it 
 at the start." 
 
 :< I suppose you think you can attend to 
 my snowshoes better than I can myself." 
 
 " I do, indeed." 
 
 " Well, don't start to argue about that, 
 please don't. I haven't seen you for such 
 a long time and there are such a lot of
 
 A SCANDAL VERIFIED 259 
 
 things that I want to say, but some way, 
 whenever I am going to start, something 
 happens to prevent me." 
 
 'Your snowshoe, for instance?" 
 
 ' Yes, or you. You begin to argue about 
 something. Now don't be cross! I sup- 
 pose I really shouldn't have said that, 
 but " 
 
 " Oh, it's quite true that I occasionally 
 make a remark." 
 
 " Occasionally ! " 
 
 1 Very occasionally, yes. When people 
 are with you they don't talk much as a 
 rule. Queer, isn't it?" 
 
 " I suppose," said his companion after 
 thinking deeply for a moment, " that what 
 you mean is that they don't get much 
 chance." 
 
 ' That was my meaning, exactly." 
 
 '' I can't help talking a little sometimes, 
 you know," said Miss Bent, icily 
 
 " You can't, indeed ! " 
 
 " No. I come by it honestly. My own 
 father was a man!" 
 
 Silence reigned, unbroken and long. The 
 snowshoers trudged on in silence, the lady 
 chuckling delightedly to herself.
 
 260 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 " I had two things to tell you," she re- 
 marked, presently, perceiving that her com- 
 panion was unmoved by her silence and 
 getting very tired of preserving it. 
 
 "Yes?" 
 
 ' Yes. The second one is gossip, so I 
 suppose I shouldn't " 
 
 " Oh, but you will." 
 
 " Not," said Miss Bent, impressively, 
 " not unless you promise solemnly never 
 to tell a living soul about it especially 
 not Agatha!" 
 
 " Why is Agatha to be debarred from 
 hearing what no living soul may know? " 
 
 " Because," said his companion, seriously, 
 " Agatha is not to be trusted. She can't 
 keep a secret. Oh, you needn't laugh. The 
 person who told me this said the same thing 
 to me. ' Don't tell anyone about this,' she 
 said, most earnestly, ' and whoever you tell, 
 don't tell Agatha.' " 
 
 ' What lack of confidence you two se- 
 cretive people do show in Agatha. Why is 
 it?" 
 
 :< In the first place because she's a cat." 
 
 " Doesn't seem conclusive. I've known 
 cats who talked less than some ladies."
 
 A SCANDAL VERIFIED 261 
 
 " And in the second because she's her 
 cousin." 
 
 "Whose? The cat's?" 
 
 "No. Lynn Thayer's." 
 
 " My golf-balls ! Where are we at? " 
 
 '* Why, I'm sure I've made myself plain 
 enough," said Miss Bent, looking surprised. 
 
 " On the contrary you've made yourself 
 awfully pretty in your sporting togs but you 
 have not made yourself explicit." 
 
 'You silly thing! Don't you see what I 
 mean? It's Lynn Thayer that the gossip's 
 about." 
 
 " Oh, Miss Thayer," said Ogden. " Then 
 I hardly think it's true." 
 
 " Oh, it must be. This person saw her. 
 It seemed so queer she could hardly believe 
 her eyes." 
 
 "What did?" 
 
 ' Why, Lynn's being there alone at that 
 time of night. Not that it was a proper place 
 for a lady at any time " 
 
 " What place wasn't? " 
 
 " Dear me, Neil, you are stupid, some- 
 times. Why, St. Eustache St. " 
 
 "Whew! St. Eustache St. !" 
 
 " Yes, and at eleven o'clock at night."
 
 262 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 " Nonsense." 
 
 "It isn't nonsense. Mabel saw her 
 there ! I let out the name, but you won't tell 
 anyone, will you? at all events you won't 
 mention that it was Mabel " 
 
 " Mabel be wait a moment. Your 
 friend saw Miss Thayer at eleven o'clock 
 at night on St. Eustache St." 
 
 " Yes. Coming out of that rackety studio 
 building on the south side, where unspeak- 
 able beings congregate." 
 
 "What? Oh, look here, Kitty, you 
 mustn't say that. You don't know what 
 you're saying. Your friend, whoever she is, 
 made a mistake a big mistake. It was 
 not Lynn Thayer she saw at all it could 
 not possibly have been and she does a 
 very wrong and wicked thing in spreading 
 such stories. Now what I want you to do 
 
 is" 
 
 " Neil, one would think I was fifteen. 
 Do you suppose Mabel would say such a 
 thing if it wasn't true? She didn't think 
 at first that it could be Lynn, though she 
 saw her distinctly; and so she followed 
 her." 
 
 " Oh ! Well, Kitty, all I can say is that
 
 A SCANDAL VERIFIED 263 
 
 if your friend's a woman, I'm glad I'm a 
 man. By the way, was this paragon 
 alone?" 
 
 " Certainly not. She and her husband 
 had been to the French theatre: and, as 
 it was a fine night they decided to walk 
 home. Then they began talking about how 
 these awful old streets used to be fashion- 
 able, and he said that he would show her 
 an interesting old house in St. Eustache St. 
 So they went there and he pointed it out 
 to her and told her how it used to belong 
 
 to the Duke of and how now it had 
 
 degenerated into the haunt of all sorts of 
 people. Just as he was saying that only 
 confirmed drunkards and opium eaters and 
 things ever went there the door opened 
 and, to their infinite astonishment, Lynn 
 Thayer came out." 
 
 " Your friend's a " 
 
 " She isn't. She's a nice woman and so 
 is her husband at least I mean he's 
 well, anyway, they followed her for a block 
 or two and she called a closed sleigh and, 
 just for fun, they got into another and 
 drove behind her. She went up to Pine 
 Avenue and so they began to think that
 
 264 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 they must be mistaken when what do 
 you think? she got out, paid the cabman 
 and walked back to her aunt's house ! There 
 was no possible mistake about it." 
 
 Neil trudged along in silence for a few 
 moments. 
 
 " Kitty," he said at last, " there seem to 
 be only two interpretations that can be put 
 on that story. The first is that Lynn 
 Thayer, a girl who has always been con- 
 sidered one of the nicest in Montreal, has 
 done an unpardonable thing; the second, 
 that your friends are liars. I prefer to 
 think the latter hello ! do you want to 
 run over us? Where's your light? " 
 
 " Beg pardon, sir. I've just been driv- 
 ing a lady who asked me to put it out 
 while I was up here. I'll light it right 
 away." 
 
 " It's not right, a sleigh going at that 
 rate without light: what on earth could 
 the woman have meant by telling him to 
 put it out. She must be well, Kitty, what 
 on earth is it? " 
 
 "Hush! Look!" 
 
 He looked. A woman clad in a long dark 
 cloak and wearing a heavy veil passed them
 
 A SCANDAL VERIFIED 265 
 
 with averted head and hasty steps. Her 
 walk and figure were unmistakable. She 
 shrank into the shadow of the leafless ma- 
 ples and descended rapidly citywards.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 MRS. HADWELL'S FANCY DRESS BALL 
 
 "When Youth and Pleasure meet 
 To chase the glowing hours with flying feet." 
 
 Byron. 
 
 THERE is a fascination about a 
 fancy dress ball which appertains 
 to no other form of entertainment. 
 The excitement of seeing one's common- 
 place acquaintances blossoming out, under 
 the magic influence of costume, into fairies, 
 kings and cavaliers is one which never palls. 
 Interesting it is, too, to observe the char- 
 acters impersonated and to note how clearly 
 the character of the impersonator is ex- 
 pressed in his choice. Thus Mrs. Hadwell, 
 on the evening of her famous ball, appeared 
 as Titania, clad in a fluffy, shimmering 
 robe of mousseline, which was further em- 
 bellished and beautified by various shining 
 ornaments and clusters of hothouse blooms. 
 A sparkling diadem crowned her rich au- 
 
 266
 
 MRS. HADWELL'S BALL 267 
 
 burn tresses and a necklace of some value 
 glittered on her neck. Her pretty arms 
 were covered with bracelets and her pret- 
 tier feet were adorned by diamond-studded 
 sandals. She moved among her guests a 
 shining, odorous, " form of faery," followed 
 by ejaculations of admiration and murmurs 
 of delight. 
 
 Erma Reed, on the other hand, had 
 wisely chosen the dress of ancient Greece: 
 and her chiselled features showed clearly 
 cut and noble beneath the chaplet of green 
 leaves which lay lightly on her smooth, 
 dark locks; while her flowing robe added 
 distinction and grace to her splendid form, 
 beside which the puny, slender figures of 
 more modern beauties seemed mean and 
 artificial. 
 
 Lynn Thayer came, dressed as a Red 
 Cross nurse. " Nothing about me suggests 
 the heroine of history or romance," she 
 said, " and I should make myself ridiculous 
 by attempting to personate anything but 
 an ordinary, everyday woman." She made 
 a noble-looking nurse, however, and many 
 turned from the more fancifully attired 
 dames to watch her sympathetic counte-
 
 268 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 nance: some thinking, as they did so, that 
 hers was a face that they would like to see 
 in moments of illness or depression. Oth- 
 ers there were, though, who watched her 
 covertly and whispered stealthily to one 
 another as she passed: and Lynn noted 
 with surprise that Neil Ogden, who was 
 standing by Kitty Bent, looked down hast- 
 ily as he saw her approaching and made 
 no sign of recognition. Nor did Kitty seem 
 anxious to return her bow. 
 
 The twins in whose honour the affair had 
 been contrived attracted more attention 
 than all the other guests put together. 
 They were in mad spirits and seemed un- 
 able to keep apart, hurrying to one an- 
 other's side as soon as each dance was fin- 
 ished and whispering and laughing to- 
 gether in unrestrained fashion. Bert was 
 attired as Mark Antony in flowing Egyp- 
 tian robes, donned, as he explained, after 
 he had made the acquaintance of the Ser- 
 pent of the Nile: and he handled the crim- 
 son, voluminous garments with a grace 
 which called forth more than one admiring 
 comment from his partners. Their com- 
 pliments were invariably received with a
 
 MRS. HADWELL'S BALL 269 
 
 stifled giggle: in fact Bert's manners, as 
 a whole, did not show their usual reserve 
 and good breeding. Still the handsome, 
 boyish face above the crimson draperies 
 was so alight with good humour; the black 
 eyes were so unaccountably mischievous 
 and the olive cheeks so becomingly flushed 
 that the most exigeant of his uncle's guests 
 could not find it in her heart to be really 
 severe until but that, as Mr. Kipling says, 
 is another story. 
 
 As for his sister, it is safe to say that no 
 other girl created such a sensation. It was 
 not only her appearance, though that was 
 sufficiently striking, but the wild gayety 
 and vivacity of her demeanour that made 
 her the cynosure of every eye. She was 
 dressed as a lady of the French court in a 
 tightly fitting gown of French brocade with 
 trailing draperies : and her eyes looked even 
 darker and brighter than their wont be- 
 neath the high structure of powdered hair 
 which the dress demanded. The pink and 
 white brocade and the crimson robe of 
 Egypt were so frequently seen in absorbed 
 conversation that the twinly devotion of 
 Mrs. Hadwell's connections was a favourite
 
 2 7 o THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 topic of conversation at the beginning of 
 the evening. Later on, I regret to say 
 but here again I anticipate. 
 
 Agatha Ladilaw, dressed as the Queen of 
 the Roses, received her usual meed of praise 
 and attention. Her three lovers followed 
 her around with dog-like devotion; and 
 many others, seeing what a magnet she was 
 for three of the conflicting sex, hastened 
 to make her acquaintance in order to dis- 
 cover for themselves what the attraction 
 was. Agatha, in consequence, became more 
 than ever convinced that she was bound to 
 make the best match of any girl who had 
 come out that year; and considered more 
 seriously than before the advisability of 
 adding a still more eligible fourth to her 
 list of fiances. Among the many who 
 sunned themselves in her smiles was Har- 
 old Lighton, who found her gaze of re- 
 spectful attention and her eager and smi- 
 ling responses so soothing after his late re- 
 verses that he insisted on sitting out sev- 
 eral dances with her in order that he might 
 give her further particulars of her cousin's 
 cruelty; which cruelty she almost wept 
 over.
 
 MRS. HADWELL'S BALL 271 
 
 " She's such a queer girl, Mr. Lighten," 
 she said, shyly yet impulsively, " oh, I know 
 she's my own cousin and perhaps I oughtn't 
 to say so but " 
 
 "Isn't she?" inquired the disconsolate 
 lover, eagerly. " As you're her cousin, I 
 suppose I can say so " 
 
 " Anything you say," said Agatha, dim- 
 pling seraphically, " is quite safe with me, 
 Mr. Lighten anything!" She raised her 
 deep, soulful eyes to him with an air of rapt 
 attention and Mr. Lighten found himself 
 murmuring involuntarily, " What a charm- 
 ing girl!" 
 
 " All I was going to say was," he con- 
 tinued, returning to the attack, but half for- 
 getting his griefs in the joy of finding such 
 an intelligent listener, " that your cousin 
 really doesn't treat a fellow fairly. Now 
 she won't listen to anything a fellow tries 
 to tell her. All she will say is, ' Surely we 
 have discussed this often enough, Mr. Ligh- 
 ten; do talk of something else!' Now, 
 hang it all, Miss Ladilaw, that's rude!" 
 
 " I should think it was," exclaimed Aga- 
 tha, looking appropriately shocked and 
 grieved and inwardly wondering whether
 
 272 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 any man could spend an hour in her society 
 and bestow a thought afterwards on a plain 
 girl like Lynn. 
 
 " And then, when I tell her she is rude, 
 all she will say is, ' I wonder you come to 
 see me so often when I am so unpleasant 
 and there are so many nice girls in the 
 world.' ' He paused. 
 
 " Ah ! " said Agatha, softly, wondering 
 inwardly why he did; and wondering, more- 
 over, whether it was too soon to ask him 
 to drop in some quiet evening when she 
 was quite sure of having no other callers, 
 in order that they might the more fully 
 discuss her cousin's iniquities. 
 
 " And then to have her add the finishing 
 touch by refusing me outright after all the 
 time I've spent on " 
 
 " What? " said Agatha, startled, for once, 
 out of all semblance of good manners. 
 Was the man in earnest? Had he actually 
 proposed? and had the fool for no other 
 word seemed appropriately to describe her 
 cousin had the fool refused him? Aga- 
 tha gasped and caught her breath. Refused 
 him! refused a horse and carriage and a 
 nice house and a trip to Europe if she
 
 MRS. HADWELL'S BALL 273 
 
 wanted it? Agatha could scarcely regain 
 her composure. 
 
 " Yes, indeed, she refused me," reiterated 
 the Rejected One, indignantly. " And she 
 not only refused me but she told me that 
 I would thank her for her refusal ten years 
 hence." 
 
 " Mr. Lighton," Agatha's voice was sol- 
 emn " Do you I don't suppose you do, 
 but excuse my asking do you still want 
 to marry her? " 
 
 " I should rather think I did," rejoined 
 Mr. Lighton, staring. " Never was so dead 
 gone on any girl in my life. But it's no 
 use; I may as well make up my mind 
 to" 
 
 " Mr. Lighton, if it is any satisfaction to 
 you, I shall speak to my cousin. I cannot 
 feel," Agatha continued, raising her big 
 eyes almost tearfully to her companion's 
 face, " I cannot feel that it is right to let 
 my cousin refuse such an offer I mean, 
 such an honest and manly love as yours 
 without, at any rate, trying to show her how 
 how wicked it is. For," said Agatha 
 with righteous indignation, " for what is 
 Lynn, anyway? A public school teacher!
 
 274 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 And whom else is she going to get if she 
 refuses you? Nobody! And I don't care 
 whether she likes it or not I'm going to 
 put her conduct before her in the right 
 light." 
 
 " That's the stuff," said Mr. Lighton, de- 
 lightedly. ' You're a fine little girl, that's 
 what: and I tell you what it is, if you do 
 make any impression on her which," said 
 Mr. Lighton, relapsing into despondency, 
 " which you won't, for she's as stubborn as 
 a but, if you should why, all I can say 
 is, I'll never forget it." 
 
 Agatha had, as all ladies who follow the 
 time-honoured sport of man-hunting must 
 have, an eye to all contingencies. She im- 
 pulsively clasped her companion's big hand 
 in her two small ones now as she mur- 
 mured, feelingly: 
 
 " Don't think that I am intruding, Mr. 
 Lighton, but, if this should be a failure 
 and no one can tell anything where Lynn 
 is concerned always remember that you 
 have one friend, anyway." 
 
 " I won't forget it," responded Mr. Ligh- 
 ton with alacrity. Nice little thing! Pity 
 her cousin wasn't more like her, that was
 
 MRS. HADWELL'S BALL 275 
 
 all he could say. And yet, confound it all! 
 there was something about the other he 
 couldn't help liking her in spite of every- 
 thing but, whatever happened, this little 
 thing was worth cultivating. He won- 
 dered, as Agatha with a sympathetic smile 
 and an air of stern resolve gathered up her 
 pink draperies and departed in search of 
 her cousin what the outcome of it would 
 be. Well! he would soon know, at all 
 events.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 AGATHA "DOES HER DUTY" AND IS REWARDED 
 
 "Shall a woman's virtues move 
 Me to perish for her love? 
 Or her well-deservings known 
 Make me quite forget my own? 
 If she slight me when I woo 
 I can scorn and let her go." 
 
 G. Wither. 
 
 PAST Boadicea, reclining against a 
 marble heater and conversing with 
 Mephistopheles; past Joan of Arc, 
 flirting vigorously with Torquemeda; past 
 the Queen of the Fairies, chatting to a 
 miscellaneous group of knights and de- 
 mons; past every variety of hero and lady 
 fair went the self-sacrificing Agatha, intent 
 on her altruistic aim. " For," as she mut- 
 tered to herself, " if he has proposed to her, 
 already, it isn't very likely that he will 
 change for a little while, anyway, and I 
 want to be married before any of the other 
 girls. Besides it wouldn't be half so nice 
 to marry a man who had been refused by 
 
 276
 
 AGATHA " DOES HER DUTY ' 277 
 
 your own cousin; though every one would 
 think you had cut her out and Lynn is so 
 funny that she would probably just giggle 
 and say nothing, so it wouldn't matter 
 much. But, as matters stand, I think it 
 would be really wicked to let Lynn actu- 
 ally refuse him, particularly when I can get 
 so many others: and, once they are mar- 
 ried, she will be grateful to me as well as 
 he and they will have a nice home and 
 entertain a lot and I can be their brides- 
 maid and everyone will say how much pret- 
 tier I am than the bride and " At this 
 moment she caught sight of her quarry. 
 
 Lynn had been dancing and had just 
 come out to the hall in search of a vacant 
 chair or stair when she saw a vision of pink 
 tulle gazing at her with such an unusual 
 amount of feeling and expressiveness that, 
 with a hasty excuse, she dropped her part- 
 ner's arm and hurried to her small cousin's 
 side. 
 
 " Agatha," she exclaimed, wonderingly. 
 'What is it? Is anything the matter? Do 
 you want me? " 
 
 :f Indeed I do," responded Agatha, sol- 
 emnly.
 
 278 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 " Then just let me speak to Mr. Barnes 
 a moment and explain why I am going: 
 then we can run upstairs to Del's little sit- 
 ting-room and talk quietly." 
 
 This programme was carried out; and, 
 when they were safely ensconced behind 
 closed doors, Lynn turned eagerly to her 
 cousin. 
 
 " Now, Agatha ! " she said. 
 
 Agatha turned and looked at her. 
 
 " Lynn," she said with portentous solem- 
 nity, " I don't know what you will think of 
 me and I don't care. Some one has got 
 to talk to you." 
 
 Lynn stared in amazement, wondering if 
 her thrice-engaged cousin objected to her 
 dancing twice with the same man: she 
 could think of no other enormity of which 
 she had been guilty that evening. 
 
 " I have been sitting out a couple of 
 dances with Mr. Lighton, and he became 
 unusually confidential," went on Agatha, 
 turning almost pale: "and he tells me," 
 pausing impressively, " he tells me that you 
 have refused him." 
 
 " He tells the truth," responded Lynn, 
 looking annoyed, " and all I can say is,
 
 AGATHA "DOES HER DUTY' 279 
 
 Agatha, that if you have torn me away 
 from the dance " 
 
 " Wait a moment," said Agatha, ear- 
 nestly. " This is very important to me, 
 Lynn. It isn't only that I feel sorry that 
 you, being my cousin, should be so foolish 
 as to refuse him, once; but what I want 
 to know is, did you mean it?" 
 
 " Assuredly I did," said Lynn, staring. 
 
 ' You meant," said Agatha, pathetically, 
 " you really meant, Lynn, to refuse that 
 nice house and " 
 
 " Yes, and that nice horse, too," ex- 
 claimed Lynn, turning red. " Upon my 
 word this is too much! I can stand Aunt 
 Lucy and Del, but when it comes to you, 
 Agatha understand once for all that I 
 meant to refuse that nice house and that 
 good-sized yard at the back and that com- 
 modious stable with all that it contains 
 not even excepting the horse which every 
 one seemed to think that I would accept 
 with tears of rapture, despite the fact that 
 it was encumbered with a master whom I 
 should have to accept, likewise, as they are 
 inseparable." 
 
 " Oh, Lynn, dear ! such a lot of long"
 
 2 8o THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 words and such a temper and all because I 
 tried to advise you for your own good." 
 
 " Agatha, I give you fair warning that I 
 shall gently but firmly assassinate the very 
 next person who tries to advise me for my 
 own good." 
 
 Agatha sat for a moment, absorbed in 
 thought. 
 
 " Lynn," she said, presently, " does any- 
 one know that you have refused Mr. Ligh- 
 ten?" 
 
 " Not unless he has chosen to tell any- 
 one. I am not in the habit of publishing 
 every offer I receive in the daily papers, 
 which is one reason why some people sup- 
 pose that I never get any." 
 
 " Then," said Agatha, thinking deeply, 
 " I suppose, Lynn, you will not mind if I 
 advise you not to not to tell anyone? 
 Do you remember what you said to me 
 about those things proposals and en- 
 gagements and things, you know! well, 
 at the time I did say I thought it was fool- 
 ish not to tell when people proposed to you 
 because then lots of people, as you say, 
 think you never get any but since then 
 I have changed my mind; I really think it
 
 AGATHA " DOES HER DUTY ' 281 
 
 is more sensible not to particularly in 
 your case where it would be so embarrass- 
 ing for Mr. Lighton if he were attentive to 
 some girl." 
 
 Lynn burst out laughing. 
 
 " I never in my life told on any man who 
 was misguided enough to ask me to marry 
 him. I have always felt that the pain of 
 feeling that he had so lowered himself was 
 punishment enough for any crime." 
 
 '* Why, Lynn, I don't quite see what 
 you mean," said Agatha, patient but bewil- 
 dered. 
 
 ' This is all I mean," said Lynn, gravely. 
 '' If you have any idea of going in for Ligh- 
 ton and certainly his house is all that 
 could be desired why, don't feel as you 
 walk up the aisle in veil and orange blos- 
 soms that I am whispering to my nearest 
 acquaintance, ' I could have had that man 
 if I had wanted him.' " 
 
 " But," said Agatha, timidly, " suppose 
 such a thing did happen it would not be 
 very nice for you, Lynn, to think that peo- 
 ple were saying that I had cut you out. 
 That is the first thing that Mrs. Langham- 
 Greene would think."
 
 282 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 " I can think of nothing at the moment 
 less likely to worry me than Mrs. Lang- 
 ham-Greene's thoughts concerning me." 
 
 " Oh, how queer you are ! " said Agatha, 
 opening her eyes widely. " Then, Lynn, 
 if you should hear well, anything! you 
 won't mind. For there is still time for you 
 to change your mind, you know; and really 
 he's very fond of you, and his house " 
 
 :< Has only one drawback! Now don't 
 dare to tell him I said that, Agatha, or " 
 
 ' Why, I don't know what you did say," 
 responded Agatha, patiently. " You say 
 such queer things, Lynn, that half the time 
 I don't know what you're driving at. At 
 all events, however, as I understand, you 
 are quite determined not to accept Mr. 
 Lighten." 
 
 " Quite." 
 
 '' Then," said Agatha, dimpling bewitch- 
 ingly and adjusting her rose wreath with 
 an air of satisfaction, " then, Lynn, I must 
 just go and tell him so, I suppose." 
 
 She found the Rejected sitting where she 
 had left him, and gazing disconsolately into 
 space. He brightened a little as she sat 
 down beside him.
 
 AGATHA " DOES HER DUTY ' 283 
 
 "You had no luck, I suppose?" he re- 
 marked, tentatively. 
 
 " Mr. Lighten," cooed Agatha, softly, 
 " she is not worthy of you. She is my 
 own cousin, but I can't help saying so." 
 
 Mr. Lighten turned a rich, ripe tan col- 
 our, the nearest approach to a flush of rage 
 that his skin was capable of attaining. 
 
 "Made fun of me, I suppose?" he que- 
 ried in tones of stifled fury. " Oh, you 
 needn't try to smooth it over, Miss Ladi- 
 law! I know that tongue of hers too well." 
 ' Well," said Agatha, commiseratingly, 
 " I must say, Mr. Lighton, that she might 
 have been nicer. It's one thing to refuse 
 a man and another to make jokes about it. 
 Not that she said much, you know, but 
 there was one speech about your house 
 having only one drawback " 
 
 ' That," exclaimed Mr. Lighton in a 
 burst of horrible enlightenment, " was Me! " 
 
 " I am afraid so," said Agatha, softly. 
 " But please don't tell any one I repeated 
 it, Mr. Lighton. I really shouldn't have, 
 you know. But I felt so disturbed and 
 angry at the idea of any one belonging to 
 me being so heartless "
 
 284 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 Six months later when Miss Agatha 
 Ladilaw, " the prettiest debutante of the 
 former season," made " the match of the 
 year," Lynn felt rather hurt at the de- 
 meanour of both bride and groom toward 
 her. 
 
 " I was disagreeable," she reflected, " but 
 he brought it on himself and I can't under- 
 stand why the mention of my name should 
 invariably produce a chill in the Ladilaw 
 household. Agatha, at least, has nothing 
 to blame me for." 
 
 Agatha and Agatha's husband, however, 
 agreed in seeing as little as possible of Aga- 
 tha's cousin and in acting as coldly as was 
 consistent with politeness whenever they 
 did meet her. This, Society thought, was 
 owing to the fact that poor Miss Thayer 
 had cherished useless aspirations in the di- 
 rection of the Lighton house, herself. Poor 
 Miss Thayer!
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 THE TWINS UNDER A NEW ASPECT 
 
 "Haste thee, nymph, and bring with thee 
 Jest and youthful jollity." 
 
 Milton. 
 
 THE fun was at its height. The 
 most delightful waltz of the eve- 
 ning had just concluded and 
 streams of gaily dressed forms poured in 
 the direction of the balcony. It was mid- 
 winter and the thermometer stood at five 
 below: yet more than one couple strolled 
 out on the balcony and stood, contracting 
 lung trouble and pneumonia, while they 
 gazed enraptured at the beautiful panorama 
 which spread beneath them. The city was 
 a mass of glittering lights, seen through 
 the delicate pencilled branches of bare ma- 
 ples and willows ; and seemed to the watch- 
 ers as though lying hundreds of feet below 
 Hadwell Heights. At the foot of the high 
 hill on which the house was built lay Pine 
 
 285
 
 286 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 Avenue, thronged with couples arrayed in 
 sporting garb and bent on their way to the 
 toboggan slide at the back of the mountain. 
 Less often a party of snowshoers would 
 rush past on their ungainly footgear: an 
 object of little amusement to the Canadians 
 but one of never-failing interest to the 
 Americans: and, less frequently still, a 
 couple of men on skis. The twins, who 
 never thought of colds or of precautions 
 against them, spent most of their time be- 
 tween the dances in standing in the most 
 exposed part of the balcony and watching 
 the passers-by until the icy winds which 
 whirled around drove them indoors, shiv- 
 ering but happy. 
 
 Bertie seemed to-night as though pos- 
 sessed of some demon of mischief and un- 
 rest. She confessed to a rather bad cold 
 already, but it detracted nothing from her 
 appearance though it affected her usually 
 sweet voice, rendering it hoarse and 
 strained. No entreaties could keep her 
 from the icy balcony, though, and her part- 
 ners soon stopped making them and de- 
 voted themselves to carrying on the flirta- 
 tions which she seemed determined to push
 
 THE TWINS 287 
 
 to the utmost limit. Never had any of her 
 Canadian admirers seen her in such a 
 mood; her usual gay, but rather reserved 
 manner had given place to the one com- 
 monly attributed to the American girl in 
 foreign fiction. Her partners were at first 
 amazed, then flattered at her open and 
 eager anxiety for their attentions; but 
 some, including Donovan, her companion 
 of the hockey match, who had come to like 
 and admire the pretty Ohio girl, were 
 rather repelled and disgusted at the change 
 in her. Toward the end of the evening his 
 disgust reached a climax. An extremely 
 shy and painfully proper youth to whom 
 Bertie had begged him to introduce her at 
 the beginning of the evening, had just 
 emerged from sitting out a dance with her 
 and had asked Donovan to have a smoke 
 with him in Mr. Hadwell's " den," which, 
 for this night, was given over to the needs 
 of the dancers. On Donovan's assenting, 
 Mr. Simcoe, the shy youth, had unfolded a 
 tale of horror. He had come up for his 
 dance with Miss Hadwell when she, with- 
 out a word of apology, had piloted him in 
 the direction of the stairs, murmuring, as
 
 288 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 she did so, " We don't want to dance, do 
 we? We can do better than that." On his 
 expressing his willingness to do as she 
 wished she had squeezed his arm and in- 
 formed him in an ecstatic whisper that he 
 was a duck, a perfect duck, and that she 
 was going to show him a nice little cubby 
 hole behind some curtains at the end of the 
 hall which she was sure Mrs. Hadwell must 
 have fixed expressly for them. " Of 
 course," Mr. Simcoe had remarked, nerv- 
 ously, " of course I couldn't refuse to go, 
 Donovan." Donovan, looking very grim, 
 had agreed 'with him: of course he could 
 not. So, it appeared, they had gone. Mr. 
 Simcoe had seemed unwilling to divulge 
 the secrets of his prison house but had gone 
 so far as to hint that ladies who asked fel- 
 lows to kiss them on so short an acquaint- 
 ance were not in his line. Donovan had 
 informed him here that gentlemen did not, 
 as a rule, " kiss and tell ": and had refused 
 to listen further, regardless of Mr. Simcoe's 
 anguished explanation. " But I didn't, 
 Donovan! hang it all, it was she who in- 
 sisted, you know, and she can't blame me 
 for speaking of it." Donovan had walked
 
 THE TWINS 289 
 
 off in a furious rage, awakened, not so 
 much by Mr. Simcoe's lack of gallantry 
 as by Miss Hadwell's lack of common sense 
 and good breeding. 
 
 If Miss Bertie's conduct gave rise to com- 
 ment, what shall be said of Mr. Bert's? It 
 is safe to say that never before in a Mon- 
 treal drawing-room had any gentleman dis- 
 ported himself with such amazing freedom. 
 Before many dances had transpired omi- 
 nous whispers might have been heard 
 among the young ladies who had been 
 honoured with his partnership; and it was 
 a matter of common observation that, 
 toward the end of the evening, several of 
 his companions flatly refused to " sit out " 
 dances which he had engaged, earlier. The 
 most amazing snub which he received came 
 from Miss Reed, who, on his reminding her 
 that she had promised him the eighteenth 
 dance, had answered in tones of ice, " So 
 sorry, Mr. Hadwell, but I never dance 
 except with gentlemen!" This was merely 
 the climax of a series of unpleasant remarks 
 which had been showered upon him; but, 
 coming from Miss Reed, who was known 
 to have absorbed all his time and attention
 
 2 9 o THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 until that evening, it was expected to have 
 had a chilling effect upon him. This, how- 
 ever, was far from being the case. " I may 
 not be exactly a gentleman, Miss Reed," he 
 had returned with the utmost sangfroid, 
 " but " At this moment he had caught 
 sight of his sister's eye, fixed on him with 
 a look in which rage and consternation 
 were strangely blended; and breaking off 
 abruptly, he had left Erma's side, his manly 
 shoulders shaking visibly. Bertie had held 
 a hasty and agitated conversation with him; 
 and the twinly devotion which had so im- 
 pressed the assembled company when the 
 dance commenced was apparently conspic- 
 uous by its absence. 
 
 In the midst of the dance Mrs. Hadwell 
 was seen to leave the room, hastily, in 
 response to a whispered message from a 
 housemaid. When she returned her eyes 
 were sparkling mischievously and her whole 
 demeanour was charged with importance. 
 Presently she beckoned confidentially to 
 Mrs. Langham-Greene, who stood, resplen- 
 dent in pale green draperies and water 
 lilies, a most pleasing and graceful Undine. 
 Undine approached and Titania linked her
 
 THE TWINS 291 
 
 arm in hers. " My dear," she cooed, " you 
 haven't an idea oh, how shall I be- 
 gin? You know my housekeeper, don't 
 you? Wasn't she an old school friend of 
 yours ? " 
 
 " Not a friend, exactly," answered the 
 elegant Undine, rather deprecatingly. " An 
 acquaintance, rather. Such an ugly little 
 thing and so lacking in any sort of bright- 
 ness and attractiveness " 
 
 "To us yes!" purred Titania. "But 
 only think of a man like General Shaftan 
 having cared so much for her that he was 
 unable to die without seeing her and im- 
 ploring her for the last time to become his 
 wife " She paused and viewed the crim- 
 soning Undine with a countenance abso- 
 lutely devoid of guile. 
 
 "General Shaftan?" inquired her guest, 
 turning from crimson to scarlet. " General 
 Shaftan? Why, my dear Mrs. Hadwell " 
 
 :f I know," murmured Titania, sympa- 
 thetically, casting a demure glance at the 
 infuriated water nymph, "I know! we all 
 thought it was you and, no doubt, he 
 made you think so as well! men are such 
 dreadful deceivers but he sent for Mrs.
 
 2 9 2 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 Waite on his death-bed and wanted to 
 marry her." 
 
 Undine found her breath. 
 
 " My dear Mrs. Hadwell," she laughed, 
 lightly. " Does it sound a probable story? " 
 
 " No ; and if the poor woman, herself, 
 had told me about it, I regret to say that 
 I should have doubted her. But the Gen- 
 eral told his nurse and trusted her with 
 the secret contents of his will. It was 
 drawn up three hours before he sent for 
 Mrs. Waite and, in it, he says that he 
 leaves all of which he dies possessed to 
 Amy Marion Waite in the belief that that 
 lady will, in the next few hours, become 
 his wife, as he hopes and intends she shall." 
 
 Mrs. Langham-Greene said nothing, but 
 turned white and twisted the fan which she 
 held in her long, snake-like fingers fever- 
 ishly. Titania, looking at her, felt a sudden 
 twinge of compassion and compunction. 
 She left her with some hurried excuse. 
 
 " So," she said, slowly to herself, " so 
 even that unscrupulous, wheedling serpent 
 is capable of caring for somebody: and 
 caring for him all those years, too. Am I 
 the only woman living who who "
 
 THE TWINS 293 
 
 Something wet and glistening fell on her 
 chiffon dress. She hastily wiped it away 
 and stared in amazement. 
 
 "Getting sentimental at my age?" she 
 inquired in stupefaction. " Here, Estelle 
 Hadwell, don't be a fool! You've got 
 everything you ever wanted and you're ten 
 times happier than anyone else you know. 
 Think of your dresses and your jewelry 
 and your friends and your n-n-no, I don't 
 know that you need think of him not 
 just now, at all events ! But think of " 
 
 She looked up, up the long, broad stair- 
 way, up to the big, quiet nursery. Then 
 she smiled and tossed her head. 
 
 " I have everything, practically every- 
 thing," she said, defiantly. " Everything 
 but a sentimental experience which disap- 
 pears, anyway, after six months of married 
 life. I'm a fool, that's what I am! a dis- 
 contented, ungrateful fool. The trouble 
 with me is that I've got too much. If only 
 if only one of them doesn't " 
 
 A spasm of agony crossed her face at the 
 unwelcome thought; then she resolutely 
 crossed the hall and opened an animated 
 conversation with one of her numerous ad-
 
 294 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 mirers. Lack of self-control was not one 
 of the pretty Titania's failings. 
 
 Presently Lynn Thayer joined her, look- 
 ing grave and perplexed. " May I have 
 Mrs. Hadwell to myself for a few mo- 
 ments?" she asked, smiling in a rather 
 forced way: then, putting her hand on 
 Mrs. Hadwell's arm, she drew her aside. 
 
 " Del," she said in a low voice, " you 
 know I am no prude and I don't make a 
 fuss, unnecessarily, about anything; but 
 I tell you plainly that you must speak to 
 those young connections of yours." 
 
 " Why, what have the poor things been 
 doing?" asked Mrs. Hadwell in amaze- 
 ment. " I noticed that they were awfully 
 lively but, surely, at their age " 
 
 " My dear Del, their conduct is outra- 
 geous. Particularly Bertie's. After all, if a 
 boy of twenty chooses to act like a fool he 
 simply gets severely snubbed and, in time, 
 comes to his senses and is forgiven. But 
 when a girl of the same age, a girl who has 
 had every advantage, starts to act in her 
 uncle's house like an extremely fast bar- 
 maid, why, you know as well as I do that 
 it won't be forgotten in a hurry. What has
 
 THE TWINS 295 
 
 got into them to-night I don't know; but 
 the whole room is talking of their actions. 
 Imagine Bertie asking that shy little re- 
 cluse of a Simcoe to kiss her and pretend- 
 ing to weep when he hesitated " 
 
 "Lynn!" 
 
 " My dear, that isn't the worst of it. She 
 has taken about half her partners to that 
 little alcove in the second floor hall, which 
 is curtained off, and has treated them to a 
 course of hoydenish flirtation which is, to 
 say the least of it, in the poorest taste. 
 Silly little Simcoe was bad enough, but, 
 when it comes to Parham, one of the fast- 
 est men in the city " 
 
 "Surely not!" 
 
 " She has been sitting up there with him 
 for the last two dances; and she is evi- 
 dently taken with him, for, when she showed 
 me her programme and I remarked on her 
 having promised him three dances in suc- 
 cession, she giggled in the most affected 
 manner and said, ' Oh, I simply adore those 
 sad-eyed, soft-voiced men with reputations 
 yards long!' and danced off before I had 
 a chance to suggest that " 
 
 " Why, Lynn, what can I have been
 
 296 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 thinking about to allow it? Oh, the silly 
 child! If she must act like a goose, why 
 couldn't she do it a little more privately? 
 Don't laugh, Lynn: you know what I 
 mean. And you tell me that Bert? " 
 
 " Has been acting like a perfect fool. 
 He even wanted to kiss me." 
 
 " Lynn ! the boy must have taken leave 
 of his senses." 
 
 " I was afraid myself that he was drunk. 
 In fact I took the liberty of asking him if 
 he was. He was quite angry for a mo- 
 ment. ' What do you mean by saying that 
 I am drunk?' he asked. ' Oh,' I said, 'I 
 didn't say that you were drunk: on the con- 
 trary I said I hoped you weren't/ ' But 
 why should you think I was? ' persisted my 
 gentleman. So I told him that when people 
 tried to make love to me I always thought 
 they must be drunk. He shouted at that 
 and explained that he was in good spirits 
 animal, not vegetable and wanted to 
 enjoy himself. I treated him to a piece of 
 my mind, but it didn't seem to do much 
 good." 
 
 "Isn't it extraordinary? With all their 
 high spirits and love of fun I thought those
 
 THE TWINS 297 
 
 twins were as well-bred a pair as you would 
 want to meet. Well! I must do my duty, 
 I suppose. Where are the miscreants, 
 Lynn?" 
 
 " Bert is in the ballroom, trying to pacify 
 his partners, most of whom are not pleased 
 with him for reasons best known to them- 
 selves. Bertie, as I told you, is sitting 
 behind a fairly thick curtain with a man 
 who shouldn't be admitted into any re- 
 spectable house." 
 
 " My dear child, don't start to lecture 
 about that! I have enough on my hands." 
 
 She mounted the stairs with a deter- 
 mined but bored expression and presently 
 descended, followed by the unrepentant 
 Bertie who winked joyously at the stony 
 and disapproving visage of her aunt's 
 friend. Behind them strolled the redoubt- 
 able Parham, apparently highly amused. 
 
 Mrs. Hadwell entered the ballroom and 
 looked about for Bert. He was presently 
 discovered in the act of fanning an indig- 
 nant-looking lady who pretended to ignore 
 his efforts at small talk. Mrs. Hadwell 
 beckoned and he sprang to his feet with 
 alacrity.
 
 298 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 " Bert ! " said his aunt by marriage, 
 sternly, " there are limits to my forbear- 
 ance. I am sorry to say that you have 
 transgressed those limits. I am still sor- 
 rier that you have no better taste than to 
 take pleasure in showing impertinence to 
 my guests." 
 
 Bert's face worked for a moment: he 
 said something in an aside to his sister, 
 then spoke. 
 
 " Aunt Del," he said, humbly but with 
 an irrepressible twinkle in his black eyes, 
 " we have acted like a couple of demons, I 
 must admit, but, if you'll only forgive us 
 this once, I swear we'll straighten things 
 out. Every one is going to supper, now; 
 well, Bertie and I are going in together 
 and, just as soon as the people are seated, 
 you will see what will happen." 
 
 " I will not," was Mrs. Hadwell's unex- 
 pected rejoinder. " I have had quite enough 
 nonsense, Bert. It must end, here." 
 
 Bert consulted his sister with his eyes; 
 then, catching his diminutive aunt by the 
 waist, he whirled her down the room and 
 whispered something in her ear. She 
 gasped, then suddenly laughed and looked
 
 THE TWINS 299 
 
 relieved; and Bertie approached and en- 
 tered into an animated conversation with 
 her. 
 
 Five minutes later, when the assembled 
 company was seated at supper, the unruly 
 and ostracized pair walked solemnly in and 
 stood for a moment at the head of the 
 room. Then Bert raised his crimson- 
 decked arm with a mute request for si- 
 lence. A hush of surprise fell on the rev- 
 ellers. He spoke. 
 
 " My dear friends/' he said, gravely, " my 
 sister and I have acted so badly to-night 
 and have laid ourselves open to so much 
 well-deserved censure that we think the 
 least we can do is to apologize, and we do 
 it thus!" 
 
 He deliberately laid hold of his compan- 
 ion's snowy locks and, with a vigorous 
 pull, exposed a close cropped head. Then 
 he doffed his crimson headgear and a dark 
 tress fell athwart his nose. 
 
 When the prolonged shrieks of amaze- 
 ment and laughter had died into silence 
 Bert the real Bert spoke. 
 
 " My sister says that if all the girls whom 
 she has kissed will forgive her she will
 
 300 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 never do it, again/' he said. " And, as for 
 me," he paused and cast a glance of pure 
 delight in the direction of Messrs. Simcoe 
 and Parham, " as for me, while I must con- 
 fess that I am a horrible flirt " 
 He could get no further. 
 
 An hour later Undine, looking paler than 
 her wont, sat whispering behind a large 
 fan to two or three other women. One of 
 them, a pleasant-faced middle-aged woman, 
 looked distinctly sad and uncomfortable. 
 
 " The poor girl ! " she said. 
 
 " Such people should be exposed," re- 
 turned Undine, coldly. " The idea of her 
 being here at all. Mrs. Hadwell cannot 
 associate with fast women and expect to 
 keep her own character. Personally I never 
 think there is any real harm in Mrs. Had- 
 well, though " She paused tentatively 
 while a venomous gleam lit her large, pale 
 eyes. 
 
 "Oh, no, no!" cried the others in horri- 
 fied unison; and Mrs. Langham-Greene 
 saw that it would be dangerous to venture 
 further. She bade an affectionate farewell 
 to her hostess and ordered a closed sleigh.
 
 THE TWINS 301 
 
 " My dress is so thin," she explained, 
 smiling. 
 
 As the sleigh drove away she crouched 
 among the fur rugs and bit her naked arms 
 and writhed. 
 
 " I'll pay them for this," she whispered, 
 catching her breath in torture. " He sent 
 for her for her ! and that little cat dared 
 to tell me to my face oh, I can't reach 
 her, not yet; but I can hurt her through 
 her friend, anyway. She really cares for 
 the Thayer girl; it'll make trouble with 
 her pompous old husband when she insists 
 on supporting her oh, I'll do what I can ! 
 it may help me to forget." She groaned. 
 "Oh, I can't bear it: I didn't mind his 
 death as I mind this! it's like losing him 
 all over again I'll pay her for what she's 
 made me suffer to-night ! /'// pay her! "
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 A LIE WHICH IS PART A TRUTH 
 
 " A lie which is part a truth is ever the blackest of lies, 
 A lie which is all a lie may be met and fought with outright, 
 But a lie which is part a truth is a harder matter to fight." 
 
 Tennyson. 
 
 MRS. LANGHAM- GREENE'S 
 pretty town house possessed a 
 drawing-room as elegant as its 
 mistress, and far less harmful. It was 
 flanked by two bay windows, admirably 
 adapted for gazing on the peccadilloes of 
 one's neighbours, the while one ruminated 
 contentedly on one's own virtues. Here 
 its fair owner loved to sit on winter after- 
 noons, dispensing excellent tea and gossip: 
 and here one bright January day found her 
 brewing the witching potion for a waiting 
 guest. This was no other than Gerald 
 Amherst, who happened to be painting the 
 lady's portrait. When the daylight faded 
 she had insisted on his accompanying her 
 
 302
 
 PART A TRUTH 303 
 
 home and joining her in a cup of five 
 o'clock tea. The fair widow was not an 
 especial favourite of the artist's; but his 
 stock of excuses had been exhausted on 
 previous occasions and he had therefore 
 submitted meekly. 
 
 Mrs. Langham-Greene was a woman who 
 wore well, as the saying is. Her figure 
 was straight and supple as a girl of twen- 
 ty's and her delicate features had escaped 
 the pinched look which frequently accom- 
 panies thinness in a woman of fifty. Her 
 skin had always been colourless and now 
 resembled fine ivory; her hair, which she 
 wore parted in the middle in the Madonna 
 style, was only very slightly flecked with 
 grey. Julia Langham-Greene was a dis- 
 tinguished woman, an interesting woman, 
 an elegant woman. When, at thirty-five, 
 she had first donned widow's weeds, she 
 had created such a furore that it was many 
 years before she found herself able to re- 
 linquish them. However, when a woman 
 reaches forty and finds herself capable of 
 wearing pale blue and scarlet to advantage 
 she usually does. 
 
 Mrs. Langham-Greene was now forty-
 
 3 o 4 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 seven, yet she could attend a fancy dress 
 ball attired in Nile green and pearls and 
 look the part of Undine to perfection. 
 Small wonder, then, that she wished to 
 transfer such lasting charms to still more 
 lasting canvas; and Amherst had attained 
 distinction as a portrait painter years be- 
 fore. She smiled delicately on him now, 
 as she sugared his tea and inquired in tones 
 of melted honey whether he took cream or 
 lemon; and pondered inwardly how best 
 to land the shaft she held in store. 
 
 " You are too good," she purred, in re- 
 sponse to a perfunctory compliment on his 
 part. " Far too good. Among so many 
 young and pretty girls I fear I must have 
 been quite unnoticed. Miss Reed, for in- 
 stance! What regular features she has; 
 quite ideal! What a pity that she has so 
 little conversation! and such poor taste 
 in dress. And is it true that her father 
 has fits and that her mother was a house- 
 maid before he married her? " 
 
 ' I never heard that," returned Amherst, 
 opening his honest eyes in amazement. 
 " Miss Reed is a striking looking girl, but, 
 to my mind, Miss Ladilaw is fcr prettier."
 
 PART A TRUTH 305 
 
 " But so uninteresting, don't you think? " 
 
 " Not more so than the majority of very 
 young girls." 
 
 " Still," pursued Mrs. Langham-Greene, 
 thoughtfully, " she is a nice lady-like little 
 thing. I daresay she will marry young; 
 she is so naive and pretty. It is not likely 
 that she will hang on year after year like 
 that poor, plain cousin of hers." 
 
 "Surely you don't mean Miss Thayer?" 
 
 " I mention no names," said the widow, 
 archly: then her face dropped, pathetically. 
 ' I should not like to say one thing about 
 that poor, misguided girl that might sound 
 unkind, poor creature, she has enough to 
 bear." 
 
 " I don't understand you," said Gerald, 
 flushing angrily. 
 
 " Ah, you men are so gallant," com- 
 mented the widow, smiling a little sorrow- 
 fully. " I am told that the things gentle- 
 men say about Miss Thayer when they are 
 alone could not be repeated in a lady's hear- 
 ing." 
 
 " Whoever told you that, Mrs. Greene," 
 replied Gerald, forgetting the hyphened ad- 
 junct in his- fury, " is an uncommonly first
 
 306 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 class liar. The things that gentlemen say 
 about Miss Thayer could be repeated in the 
 hearing of St. Peter." 
 
 " My dear Mr. Amherst, you have lifted 
 a weight from my mind. Is it possible that 
 there are men in this world so so kindly 
 that they refrain from unpleasant comment 
 on a woman of that kind even when the 
 refining influence of ladies' society " 
 
 "A woman of that kind! Unpleasant 
 comment! I don't know what in the 
 what in thunder you can mean, Mrs. 
 Greene; and, if you will kindly inform me 
 in as few words as possible " 
 
 "I?" 
 
 Mrs. Langham-Greene drew her slender 
 figure up haughtily and regarded her inter- 
 rogator with stately yet grieved amaze- 
 ment. 
 
 "I? I repeat scandal I spread scandal 
 about another woman? a woman, too, who, 
 in spite of the fact, that she must be fully 
 thirty, has not yet been able to secure a 
 husband to protect her? Indeed, Mr. Am- 
 herst, you must not think that you can drag 
 me into this. You quite forget yourself if 
 you suppose that I am willing to discuss
 
 PART A TRUTH 307 
 
 such questionable things. If you choose to 
 delve into these unpleasant matters it shall 
 not be in my drawing-room." 
 
 Mr. Amherst surveyed her in silence. 
 
 " Pardon me, Mrs. Greene," he said, cour- 
 teously, " but was not the matter first re- 
 ferred to in your drawing-room, and by 
 you?" 
 
 " If," said Mrs. Langham-Greene, rather 
 sadly, " if I allowed an expression of sym- 
 pathy for the unfortunate girl to escape me, 
 I did not expect to be reproached for it, 
 Mr. Amherst." 
 
 Amherst, despite his indignation, began 
 to feel a little abashed. After all, the 
 woman had done nothing but mention 
 Lynn pityingly; but why she or any one 
 else should 
 
 He pulled himself together and spoke, 
 quietly. 
 
 " I gained the impression from what you 
 said, Mrs. Greene, that there were unpleas- 
 ant rumours afloat concerning Miss Thayer. 
 Won't you tell me what they are? " 
 
 " Oh, no, Mr. Amherst," murmured the 
 lady, distressfully. " I couldn't, really." 
 
 " Can't you give me an idea of them? "
 
 3 o8 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 " But, Mr. Amherst, you must know 
 something. Why, the very servants talk 
 of it. My butler and housemaid " 
 
 " Yes? Not having the pleasure of either 
 your housemaid's or your butler's acquaint- 
 ance, I am still grievously in the dark. Has 
 anyone else mentioned the matter to you? " 
 
 " Why, everyone. I supposed, of course, 
 that you knew, that you had heard of it 
 long ago or, believe me, I should never 
 have mentioned it. Of course if it were 
 another man if it were even a gentle- 
 man it would not be quite so awful. But 
 a villainous, sickly little foreigner like Ri- 
 cossia " 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " There. You have actually dragged the 
 name out of me," cried Mrs. Langham- 
 Green, indignantly. " I declare ! Men are 
 perfectly horrid. They will not let you be 
 charitable and kind and keep things to 
 yourself. That poor girl! I suppose you 
 will be just as hard on her as all the others. 
 I was so indignant, the other day, with 
 Mr. Parham. He said but really I had 
 better not repeat it " 
 
 "Stop!"
 
 PART A TRUTH 309 
 
 Amherst rose to his feet, breathing heav- 
 ily. 
 
 " Parham, was it? I'll remember that," 
 he said in quiet, metallic tones. " In the 
 meantime, Mrs. Greene, you must tell me 
 what you mean. What is this story?" 
 
 " Oh, my dear Mr. Amherst, I cannot 
 spread scandal," cried his hostess, anx- 
 iously. " Do sit down and have another 
 cup of tea. Tea is so soothing when one 
 I felt just as you do when I first heard it. 
 It does seem so strange that such a plain 
 girl couldn't conduct herself like a lady. 
 Of course if she were at all good-looking 
 so that people noticed her and sought her 
 out it might oh, you're not going, al- 
 ready?" 
 
 " Yes, I'm going to hunt up Mr. Par- 
 ham," said Gerald, searching blindly for his 
 hat. 
 
 "No, oh, no. Oh, but I insist. Well, 
 rather than have you run off like that I'll 
 tell you the whole truth all that I know, 
 that is. It seems that you know that 
 Miss Thayer and Ricossia were always to- 
 gether when he came here first, two years 
 ago. It was quite a joke; such a difference
 
 3 io THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 in their ages, you know; and he so hand- 
 some and she, poor girl, so plain! and it 
 does seem as though it must be her fault, 
 for certainly he never appeared to encour- 
 age her " 
 
 " Go on, for God's sake ! " 
 
 " Mr. Amherst, I must beg of you not to 
 use profane language," observed Mrs. Lang- 
 ham-Greene with dignity. " Well, where 
 was I? oh, yes! well, when he disappeared 
 from polite society and we were all obliged 
 to give him the cold shoulder because he 
 was so openly depraved not like some 
 people whom one can know because they 
 keep quiet about it but he had no savoir 
 faire, that is to say, no shame " 
 
 " Mrs. Greene," shouted Amherst, " won't 
 you please skip Ricossia and get to Miss 
 Thayer?" 
 
 The widow reared herself like a black-and- 
 golden snake, about to strike. Her green 
 eyes gleamed; then she recollected herself 
 and smiled, subtly. 
 
 " Dear Mr. Amherst, pray allow me to tell 
 the story in my own way. I really cannot 
 be interrupted in this abrupt fashion. I 
 was coming to Miss Thayer. It seems that
 
 PART A TRUTH 311 
 
 the wicked girl, instead of dropping him 
 when he was found out, as all the rest of 
 us did, continued to meet him secretly. He 
 evidently was not sufficiently enamoured to 
 pursue her very much, but you know how 
 it is! a woman of that age who has never 
 succeeded in marrying frequently loses all 
 hope and simply doesn't care what she 
 does; so she used to visit him at night in 
 some awful slum where he lived " 
 
 "What utter absurdity!" 
 
 " My dear Mr. Amherst," said the widow 
 with angelic patience, " you may be sure 
 that I should not readily believe such 
 things of another woman. Unfortunately, 
 however, the misguided girl was seen and 
 recognized, not only by my butler but by 
 people of her own class; people who could 
 hardly believe their eyes and who, in their 
 anxiety not to condemn her rashly, fol- 
 lowed her home at a safe distance, of 
 course. Not that she went home, directly: 
 I am told that her practice was to take a 
 sleigh to a lonely part of Pine Avenue, 
 dismiss it there and walk to her uncle's 
 house. Very dangerous, too! fancy a lady 
 walking alone after dark. Once, when I
 
 3 i2 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 first lost my husband, I was compelled by 
 some mischance to traverse two blocks one 
 evening without an escort. Some men 
 passed me and one of them made some re- 
 mark about the ' bewitching widow.' I 
 don't know how I ever reached home; but, 
 as soon as I did, I retired, immediately. 
 Next morning I sent for my doctor: he 
 advised rest and plenty of light nourish- 
 ment what, you're going? Good eve- 
 ning, Mr. Amherst: so sorry we drifted 
 into these unpleasant subjects. Good eve- 
 ning!" 
 
 Ten minutes later Gerald rang the Thay- 
 ers' bell. 
 
 " No, Miss Thayer is not at home. I 
 don't believe she will be in to-night, for 
 she is dining at Mrs. Hadwell's. Certainly, 
 sir: I'll tell her."
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 WHISPERING TONGUES 
 
 "Whispering tongues can poison truth, 
 And constancy dwells in realms above, 
 And life is thorny and youth is vain 
 And to be wroth with one we love 
 Doth work like madness on the brain." 
 
 Coleridge. 
 
 YES, the dear twins have gone at 
 last. Whether or no they are 
 leaving their young hearts here I 
 can't say, but they are certainly carrying 
 two very nice ones away with them. Ex- 
 cept that the female one is chiefly ice; but 
 really, Erma quite thawed toward the end. 
 Odd that he preferred her to Agatha : she's 
 no better looking and not half so popular 
 by the way, Lynn, talking of Agatha re- 
 minds me! what in the world have you 
 done to Lighten?" 
 "My dear Del!" 
 " Refused him, again ? " 
 313
 
 3 i4 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 " He has not, thanks be, compelled me 
 to do so." 
 
 "Then what has happened? I've seen 
 him six times with Agatha in the past ten 
 days. Oh, Lynn, why can't you be sensible? 
 To let such a thing slip through your rin- 
 gers! Upon my word you make me feel 
 sometimes like a donkey boy with a 
 goad." 
 
 " And you, my love, make me feel like 
 Mephisto with a pitchfork." 
 
 " Oh, Lynn ! And, at all events, if you 
 don't want to marry him, now, why tell him 
 so? You may be very glad of him a few 
 years hence. Why not keep him hanging 
 on?" 
 
 " Because, dear friend, I am neither a 
 liar nor a cheat." 
 
 "Well, why aren't you? What's the use 
 of trying to be honest in a world of liars 
 and cheats? What do you expect to gain 
 by it?" 
 
 " I really can't say. The reward of vir- 
 tue, perhaps." 
 
 ' The reward of virtue, dearest, is usu- 
 ally a whack over the head." 
 
 " So I have observed."
 
 WHISPERING TONGUES 315 
 
 " Is that why you are so desperately 
 anxious to obtain it?" 
 
 " Not exactly." 
 
 " What do you propose to do when it 
 arrives ? " 
 
 " Look and act as though it were the one 
 thing on earth I had always longed for. 
 Unless it is violent enough to stun me, in 
 which case I shall set my teeth and say 
 nothing." 
 
 " Lynn, you're a fool ! " 
 
 " I have frequently suspected as much." 
 
 " And oh, Lynn, I chatter and chatter 
 and all the time there is something I must 
 say to you." 
 
 " Say it." 
 
 " Do you know what it is? " 
 
 " No ; but, whatever it may be, Del, hurry 
 up and tell me. You know suspense is the 
 one thing I can't bear." 
 
 "Will you let me ask you something?" 
 
 " Anything but I won't promise to an- 
 
 swer." 
 
 "Will you answer me this? Have you 
 ever cared for anyone?" 
 " Yes." 
 " Any man, I mean ! "
 
 3 i6 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Much?" 
 
 " Very much." 
 
 " Enough well, enough to do anything 
 foolish for?" 
 
 " Enough to do things that you would 
 consider would qualify me for a madhouse." 
 
 "Ah!" 
 
 Mrs. Hadwell drew a long breath and her 
 face fell. 
 
 " You might have told me, dear," she 
 said, gently. 
 
 :< I couldn't, Del. But, anyway, it's not 
 what you think. Why do you ask me all 
 this?" 
 
 'Was that why you refused Lighten?" 
 
 " No yes ; I would have refused him, 
 anyhow." 
 
 " But the other had something to do with 
 it?" said Mrs. Hadwell, leaning forward, 
 breathlessly. 
 
 Lynn said nothing but her face was sad. 
 Although she felt that her secret must die 
 with her brother she longed to-night for the 
 sympathy which she could so easily obtain 
 from this, her oldest and dearest friend. 
 
 " I I would have liked to tell you, Del,"
 
 WHISPERING TONGUES 317 
 
 she said in a low voice. " But I had 
 promised to tell no one. It was not that 
 I didn't trust you. The circumstances were 
 peculiar. I had others to consider." 
 
 " Oh, Lynn, Lynn, it was some one that 
 you couldn't marry, then?" Mrs. Had- 
 well's voice rose almost to a wail. 
 
 ' Yes. But, Del, the more you say, the 
 less you understand. Let us talk of some- 
 thing else." 
 
 " Lynn, I can't ! Oh, do tell me just one 
 thing more: you know that you can trust 
 me. Have you done anything that was 
 unconventional? stupidly unconventional? 
 that might expose you to scandalous com- 
 ments if it were known? " 
 
 "I yes, I am afraid I have. But don't 
 talk of it, Del. I don't feel very cheerful 
 to-night." 
 
 " But I must. Lynn, will you promise 
 solemnly never again to do anything fool- 
 ish you know what I mean? anything 
 improper or reckless?" 
 
 Lynn was silent. 
 
 "Promise. Oh, Lynn, promise! You 
 don't know what danger you're in. You 
 have enemies; you are already talked about
 
 318 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 in certain circles. I won't ask a question, 
 dear, not a question: only promise" 
 
 " Del, I can promise nothing." 
 
 " You you would do foolish things 
 again ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " But, why oh, Lynn, why? " 
 
 It was some moments before Lynn an- 
 swered and, when she did, her voice was 
 hard. 
 
 " Because all my happiness on earth 
 everything in life that counts depends 
 on my outraging certain very sensible con- 
 ventions. Don't worry if you can help it: 
 I'm a fly, caught in the web of Fate: you 
 can't help me, I can't help myself. If I 
 stopped, I should never forgive myself: 
 I should never know another happy mo- 
 ment." 
 
 '' Lynn, I see I shall have to tell you 
 and it's a thing I hate to do. There are 
 stories afloat concerning you I don't 
 know what, exactly coupling your name 
 with that of Ricossia." 
 
 Lynn grew slowly white. 
 
 " Have you nothing to say, Lynn? " 
 
 " Nothing, Del."
 
 WHISPERING TONGUES 319 
 
 " You won't explain not even to me? " 
 
 " Del," said her visitor, suddenly, bend- 
 ing forward and gazing intently in Mrs. 
 Hadwell's face, " if you had to face 
 some personal trouble or misunderstanding, 
 amounting to disgrace, even or break a 
 solemn and sacred oath which would you 
 do?" 
 
 " Break the solemn and sacred oath," re- 
 turned Mrs. Hadwell, promptly and cheer- 
 fully. 
 
 " Ah," said Lynn, despairingly, " what's 
 the use of asking you, Del? You have no 
 conscience about those things." 
 
 "No, indeed; yet I am rich enough to 
 afford one if I really wanted it. But you, 
 my dear, have no business with so costly 
 and useless an appendage. Can't you get 
 rid of it for the present, anyway? It's 
 going to land you in a perfect sea of 
 trouble; and, beyond, shining faintly, is 
 that whack over the head of which we 
 spoke. When you have tormented your- 
 self sufficiently Society will hand you that; 
 and then I suppose you will have nothing 
 left to wish for?" 
 
 "Only death; and I'm pretty healthy!"
 
 320 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 "And you will not explain? in spite of 
 all I can say or do? " 
 
 " No, I'm very tired, Del. I'm going 
 now, if you don't mind." 
 
 Half an hour later Amherst left Hadwell 
 Heights, scowling unhappily. Miss Thayer 
 had just left; she had had a headache and 
 had returned early. He could not, in de- 
 cency, call on her at her home after hearing 
 this, much as he wanted to. He must wait 
 until to-morrow. 
 
 He walked along Pine Avenue with his 
 hands in his overcoat pockets. Lynn was 
 the best girl that ever lived; but, after all, 
 there was no smoke without fire, that was 
 certain. She had committed some impru- 
 dence; what, he must find out before he 
 took any steps to circumvent these slanders. 
 Of course one thing was undeniable; she 
 had bestowed a good deal of attention on 
 Ricossia when she first met him. It was 
 through her and her warm eulogies of his 
 genius and beauty that he, himself, had 
 first become interested in the young but, 
 after all, the boy couldn't live a year and 
 he must not call him what he really was. 
 What beauty he possessed! the beauty of
 
 WHISPERING TONGUES 321 
 
 the very devil! and how women did go mad 
 over him! It wasn't wonderful if 
 
 Then suddenly, like poison, Ricossia's 
 low, bell-like laugh at their last meeting 
 rang in his ears. And his words what 
 were they? He had said that Lynn was 
 not attracted by him in the ordinary way 
 
 bah ! any one a degree above a cur would 
 say that. Lynn loved him, Amherst, that 
 was certain; but there were different kinds 
 and degrees of love. Had he not seen a 
 kind sweet woman, a devoted wife and 
 mother, leave home, husband, children, 
 everything that made her life; had he not 
 seen her ready to pay with a life-time of 
 odium and desolation for the feverish joy 
 of a few anxious months? Lynn had a 
 stronger nature than the majority of 
 women; that was nothing; she would be 
 likely to go to greater extremes for that 
 very reason. She was so sensible, so log- 
 ical, so prudent were they not the very 
 women who forsook all caution when vitally 
 interested? Ricossia was a boy, a child; 
 yes, and had it not passed into a proverb, 
 the love of a woman of thirty for a youth? 
 
 what was he thinking of? where had his
 
 322 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 fancies led him? Doubt Lynn! Lynn, 
 whom he had known from a child ! yes, 
 known! the mockery of the word! Who 
 ever knew another human being? Stran- 
 gers we wandered into life; strangers we 
 left it; strangers we were, each to other, 
 always; husband to wife, child to mother 
 above all, lover to beloved. He groaned 
 as he walked, but no feeling of resentment 
 toward his betrothed held place as yet. 
 Lynn, as he had told her, was the one 
 woman on earth to him: he would abide 
 by her explanation. If he turned cold 
 and faint at the thought if, in the past, 
 she had been infatuated with that " half- 
 devil and half-child," Ricossia; and, if she 
 had done foolish things, mad things . . . 
 yes, even wrong things he could forgive 
 them, knowing that she loved him, and him 
 only, now. After all, when one considered 
 Ricossia's reputation, merely to be seen 
 with him was enough; and she had, prob- 
 ably, traded unduly on her social position 
 and good name. Perhaps it was nothing 
 more than pity; the boy was dying and he 
 was so young, so friendless. On the whole 
 Amherst decided that he was probably act-
 
 WHISPERING TONGUES 323 
 
 ing like a fool; one might almost as well be 
 jealous of a corpse as of Ricossia, who 
 might be one at that moment for anything 
 he knew to the contrary. With a sudden 
 rush of compunction and self-reproach Am- 
 herst left Pine Avenue and, descending to 
 the city, hailed a passing car. He would 
 look the boy up; confound it all, the young 
 fool might be dying a miserable death at 
 this very moment while he maundered away 
 like a simpleton in a melodrama. He would 
 see how Ricossia was holding out, anyway; 
 this last cold spell wasn't just the best 
 thing for a consumptive, and he would like 
 to see the cub spend his last months on 
 earth in comparative comfort, whether he 
 deserved to or not. And, perhaps but 
 no ! he couldn't touch on that not with 
 him! 
 
 The car took him within a few blocks 
 of his destination. He walked slowly on, 
 feeling cheered and comparatively happy. 
 When one has writhed in doubt and misery 
 for a certain number of hours the reaction 
 is usually strong; and Amherst wondered 
 how he had ever come to attach so much 
 importance to the babblings of a green-eyed
 
 3 2 4 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 tabby cat and the insults of a hound. He 
 inhaled the clear night air with calm enjoy- 
 ment; to-morrow he would see Lynn and 
 then and then 
 
 He had nearly reached the Chatham 
 when the door opened quietly and a woman 
 descended the steps. As she advanced 
 toward him she raised her head in a blind, 
 unseeing sort of fashion. The light of a 
 flickering gas jet shone clearly and piti- 
 lessly on her upturned face; a face which, 
 though drawn and hollow-eyed, was 
 strangely familiar the face of his in- 
 tended wife, Lynn Thayer.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 WHEN LOVE IS DONE 
 
 "The mind has a thousand eyes, 
 
 And the heart but one 
 Yet the light of the whole life dies 
 When love is done." 
 
 Old Song. 
 
 "I love but I believe in love no more." 
 
 Shelley. 
 
 LYNN recognized him almost immedi- 
 ately and stood quite still, looking 
 into his face with a curious delibera- 
 tion and intentness. 
 
 " One would almost think you had ex- 
 pected me," said Amherst, involuntarily. 
 One seldom says what is uppermost in one's 
 mind on these occasions. 
 
 " I think I did," said Lynn with equal 
 quietness. " When I awoke this morning 
 something told me that this would hap- 
 pen." 
 
 ' There is a cab-stand a few blocks away," 
 325
 
 326 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 he continued, courteously. " May I take 
 you there and see you into one? " 
 
 " I shall be grateful for the attention," 
 said Lynn, dully: then she laughed. 
 
 They walked in silence for a block or 
 two. 
 
 " Have you anything to say to me, 
 Lynn? " said Amherst at last. 
 
 "I nothing!" 
 
 " You prefer to say nothing? " 
 
 Lynn was silent for a moment; then she 
 spoke very distinctly. 
 
 " On the night that you asked me to 
 marry you, I said all that I was at liberty 
 to say." 
 
 " Ricossia is rather exacting, isn't he?" 
 
 The sneer escaped Gerald, wrung from 
 him by his pain. Lynn started slightly but 
 made no answer. 
 
 :< I should ask your pardon," Amherst 
 went on, presently. " I had no right to say 
 that. I do not even know that it is Ri- 
 cossia on whom you paid this late call. 
 Possibly you have other friends in the 
 Chatham." 
 
 " I have not." 
 
 "It it is Ricossia?"
 
 WHEN LOVE IS DONE 327 
 
 She threw back her head and laughed. 
 
 " Exactly it is Ricossia. And, by the 
 way, Mr. Amherst, although I know that 
 when one does an unconventional thing, 
 ' gentlemen ' are quite justified in insulting 
 one; yet, as there is a policeman on the next 
 corner, and as even a homeless cur isn't 
 obliged to stand still while some one throws 
 a rock at it will you leave me?" 
 
 " No. Lynn, forgive me. I'm crazy ; I 
 don't know what I'm saying. If it were 
 anyone else if it were any other man 
 anyone, anyone but that villainous little 
 blackguard " 
 
 "Stop!" 
 
 Lynn turned on him like a tigress, her 
 eyes blazing with fury. 
 
 "How dare you call him that?" she 
 cried. " A genius ! a god of beauty ! and 
 dying at that! What sort of man do you 
 call yourself to insult first the woman who 
 was to have been your wife and then a 
 dying man." 
 
 Amherst gasped and caught his breath in 
 painful amazement. 
 
 " Oh, my God ! " he groaned like a hurt 
 animal, " how you must love him, Lynn ! "
 
 328 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 They had passed the cab-stand now and 
 had turned toward home, but neither no- 
 ticed this. Amherst's face was ghastly and 
 his steps unsteady; but Lynn walked erect 
 and stately like a sable figure of doom. 
 
 When some blocks had been traversed in 
 silence Amherst spoke, slowly and humbly. 
 
 " Lynn, I should not have spoken as I 
 did. We're all human and I'm not your 
 judge. If I didn't love you if I hadn't 
 believed that you loved me I should not 
 have been so harsh. Will you let me walk 
 home with you? We probably shan't see 
 one another again very soon and there is 
 so much I want to say." 
 
 " No." 
 
 " You won't let me ? You compel me to 
 very well, I'll go to Ricossia, then; I'll 
 make him listen to reason and, and if he 
 won't, I'll " 
 
 "Gerald!" 
 
 Lynn's voice was alive with a sudden, 
 horrible fear. 
 
 " Gerald," she said swiftly, clasping his 
 arm with her hands, " you loved me once, 
 didn't you? For the sake of that, because 
 of that, will you do me a favour? Deal
 
 WHEN LOVE IS DONE 329 
 
 with me, alone. I'm strong, I can stand 
 anything. Say what you please to me, do 
 as you think best but let him alone. He's 
 so young, he he's so weak and he's 
 dying, Gerald, dying. He may be dead, 
 to-morrow. While he lives, let him alone. 
 Oh, Gerald, promise me!" 
 
 Amherst could not speak for a moment. 
 When he did his voice had altered. 
 
 " Lynn," said he, gently, " why did you 
 promise to marry me?" 
 
 ;< Because I loved you, Gerald." 
 
 " You still say that now? " 
 
 ' Yes. My love for him was quite an- 
 other thing. I can't explain, and I don't 
 expect you to understand." 
 
 " I see I think I see. The other was a 
 well, a sort of obsession." 
 
 " Exactly. You could hit on no better 
 word." 
 
 * Yet you believed that you loved me. 
 You think that you could care for two men 
 at once? " 
 
 She moistened her dry lips and spoke, 
 feebly. 
 
 !< If I had not been so alone in the world, 
 Gerald, I might have loved several. There
 
 330 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 are so many different loves, you know; dif- 
 fering in kind and in degree. The love for 
 a father, for a son, for a brother " her 
 face lightened with sudden hope, " that 
 was really what I felt for him, Gerald; the 
 love that a mother has for a son, the love 
 that a sister has for a brother don't you, 
 oh, can't you, understand? I loved you in 
 quite another way it's so different 
 and, if I tried to explain any more, I should 
 break a solemn oath I should bring a 
 curse on my head " 
 
 Amherst's face lit with a sudden, heated 
 gleam. He turned and spoke fiercely. 
 
 " Lynn! Don't insult my intelligence by 
 telling me stuff of that sort, but listen! 
 Promise that you'll never see him again, 
 and that you'll do your best to forget him! 
 Promise that he'll be nothing to you in the 
 future! and I'll forgive all the rest. Come 
 to me! I want you. I won't ask you a 
 question, not a question. Marry me to- 
 morrow and I'll kill the first man or 
 woman who breathes a word against you. 
 Lynn!" 
 
 She held her breath and looked at him as 
 though fascinated.
 
 WHEN LOVE IS DONE 331 
 
 "Lynn! Promise!" 
 
 She spoke, slowly and with difficulty. 
 
 " Until he dies, Gerald my life is his." 
 
 Then " 
 
 Amherst's face flushed, a dark, purplish 
 flush, ugly to see. 
 
 ' You prefer him then to reputation, hon- 
 our, common sense and decency." His 
 breath came heavily. " You prefer him 
 to me!" 
 
 As slowly and deliberately as before she 
 answered him. 
 
 " I love you as a woman loves the man 
 she means to marry. I love L Ricossia 
 as I love no other being on God's earth 
 as I do not believe any other man was ever 
 loved from the beginning of time. You say 
 rightly. I prefer him and the oath at 
 which you sneer to reputation honour 
 common sense decency and you ! 
 Good-bye, Gerald; try to forget me."
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 MRS. LANGHAM - GREENE PAYS HER DEBT; AND 
 MRS. WAITE, HERS 
 
 " The long-necked geese of the world that are ever hissing 
 
 dispraise 
 Because their natures are little." 
 
 Tennyson. 
 
 ESTELLE HADWELL was sitting by 
 a blazing fire in her husband's library 
 when she heard voices in the hall 
 below, followed by the banging of a door. 
 Then Mr. Hadwell called loudly: 
 " Estelle! are you there? " 
 " Yes, dear," replied his wife, somewhat 
 surprised. " Have you visitors? " 
 
 ' Yes. Mrs. Langham-Greene and Mrs. 
 Tollman are here. Can you come down?" 
 "Yes, indeed!" replied Mrs. Hadwell 
 with effusion. She rose slowly from her 
 chair by the fire, grimacing disgustedly as 
 she did so. The library was so nice and 
 Mrs. Greene so horrid and Mrs. Tollman 
 such a bore. 
 
 332
 
 PAYING DEBTS 333 
 
 She hurried down and advanced with ex- 
 tended hands and a delighted smile. She 
 had got as far as " A most delightful sur- 
 prise an unexpected pleasure! " when she 
 caught sight of her husband's face. 
 
 " Henry! " she exclaimed in genuine con- 
 sternation. " What in the world is it? " 
 
 Her husband was standing with his back 
 to the fireplace and a portentous frown on 
 his brow, looking, as Mrs. Hadwell re- 
 flected to herself, for all the world like the 
 British Matron in trousers. 
 
 " Henry, what is it? " she asked, again. 
 
 " These ladies," returned Mr. Hadwell 
 with a majestic wave of his hand, " can tell 
 you better than I." 
 
 Estelle glanced from one to the other, 
 wonderingly. Mrs. Tollman, a stout, pleas- 
 ant-faced woman, wore a somewhat dis- 
 tressed expression and sat stiffly upright. 
 Mrs. Langham-Greene, delicately lovely in 
 dark blue velvet and ermine, leaned grace- 
 fully back in an easy chair, her fine features 
 composed to an expression of decorous sor- 
 row. Neither lady made any immediate 
 effort to enlighten her hostess until Mrs. 
 Greene swept a meaning glance at her com-
 
 334 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 panion from beneath her long, light lashes. 
 Then Mrs. Tollman spoke. 
 
 " It's such a delicate matter, Mrs. Had- 
 well," she said in a flurried way. " I dis- 
 liked coming to you about it, very much; 
 but Mr. Hadwell insisted, saying that only 
 an eye-witness could convince you." 
 
 "Of what?" 
 
 " This is so hard on us, both," Mrs. 
 Langham-Greene murmured, soothingly. 
 " And it was so careless of me to mentiqn 
 the poor thing; for then Mr. Hadwell sim- 
 ply dragged the whole story out of me. I 
 am most distressed, I am indeed! " 
 
 " But at what, dear Mrs. Greene? " cooed 
 her hostess. 
 
 " Oh, at the whole affair the poor girl 
 so well connected and all! and Ricossia so 
 common and dreadful." 
 
 " Oh, some new scandal about young Ri- 
 cossia," exclaimed Mrs. Hadwell with sud- 
 den enlightenment and a corresponding 
 sinking of the heart. 
 
 "But he is not common; no one could 
 call him that. Dreadful, certainly; but 
 rather fascinating in his way, don't you 
 think?"
 
 PAYING DEBTS 335 
 
 " Apparently others have found him so," 
 drawled the older lady, meaningly. 
 
 "What others?" 
 
 Mrs. Langham-Greene looked deliber- 
 ately at Mrs. Hadwell and spoke, regret- 
 fully. 
 
 " I am afraid, dear Mrs. Hadwell, that 
 your friend, Miss Thayer " 
 
 " How dare you say so? " 
 
 " Estelle," said her husband, reprovingly, 
 " is it likely that these ladies would speak 
 without proper authority?" 
 
 ' Very likely indeed," thought their host- 
 ess, but her heart was sick within her. 
 Lynn's interest in Ricossia; her lack of 
 interest in other men; her sorrow, her pre- 
 occupation, her confession of having out- 
 raged propriety; all these ranged as wit- 
 nesses against her in her friend's heart. 
 
 " I knew I told Mr. Hadwell that you 
 would take it in just this way," murmured 
 the widow, sympathetically. " So he in- 
 sisted that we bring an eye-witness to con- 
 vince you. Of course the thing has been 
 going on for an indefinite space of time; 
 but, just lately, Mr. and Mrs. Tollman, 
 when returning home late one night, saw
 
 336 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 Miss Thayer leaving the Chatham. They 
 followed her. She took a sleigh to Pine 
 Avenue, dismissed it there and walked 
 home. Isn't it so, Mrs. Tollman?" 
 
 " Yes," said Mrs. Tollman, fluttering. 
 " It is undeniably true. But I don't know 
 how it ever got out, for I only told my most 
 intimate friends about it." 
 
 " That was cheaper than having it 
 printed in the ' Daily News ' and certainly 
 quite as effective." 
 
 Mrs. Hadwell had lost her usual calm and 
 diplomacy. 
 
 ''' Really," she continued with a sudden 
 burst of candour, " really how I do hate 
 women! They're every bit as nasty as men, 
 and nothing like so nice into the bargain. 
 I wish I need never see a woman again 
 except Lynn." 
 
 This coming from the politic and tactful 
 Mrs. Hadwell had the effect of a thunder- 
 clap. Before her listeners had recovered 
 the housemaid announced Mrs. Waite and 
 that lady entered. 
 
 Since inheriting her legacy, Mrs. Had- 
 well's former housekeeper had hired a small 
 furnished house and was living there alone.
 
 PAYING DEBTS 337 
 
 General Shaftan's house, her property, was 
 advertised for sale; a proceeding which had 
 roused some interest in Montreal society. 
 
 " How funny of her not to live there 
 until it sells or rents! Can it be that that 
 sourfaced woman is afraid of ghosts?" 
 some had asked. 
 
 She stood now in the doorway, looking 
 from one to the other with her peculiarly 
 cold and expressionless manner. " Excuse 
 me," she said without preliminary, " but as 
 I was walking through the hall just now I 
 heard what you were saying; I could not 
 help hearing. Is it true that Miss Thayer 
 is in trouble? " 
 
 "Are you interested in Miss Thayer?" 
 inquired Mrs. Langham-Greene with courtly 
 insolence. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 The two women faced one another in 
 silence; the one beautiful, patrician, ele- 
 gant; the other, plain, sad-faced, and, ap- 
 parently, old. A whole world lay between 
 them; nor was the chasm bridged by the 
 fact that both had loved the same man. 
 Mrs. Hadwell, with her usual quick intui- 
 tion, could feel the air charged with import
 
 338 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 and longed to know what lay beneath these 
 different exteriors. Instead she turned to 
 Mrs. Langham-Greene with a question. 
 
 " May I ask what your object was in lay- 
 ing these slanders about Miss Thayer be- 
 fore me? " she said. 
 
 " I wished," said the other slowly, " to 
 see what could be done to help the wretched 
 girl. Of course she cannot stay here; and 
 I understand that there is a great dearth 
 of teachers in the North-West; they are 
 not particular there as to character and " 
 
 "You cat!" screamed little Mrs. Had- 
 well, losing all control of herself. " How 
 dare you come to my house and compel me 
 to be rude to your very face? How dare you 
 speak so of my best friend? Who wants to 
 hear your opinion of her? why, it's an im- 
 pertinence on your part to have an opinion 
 about a girl like Lynn. Let me tell you 
 that Miss Thayer need not go to the North- 
 West for a refuge; she will always find a 
 welcome in my home whenever she needs 
 one " 
 
 "Not in mine!" 
 
 Mrs. Hadwell started and looked at her 
 husband with amazement.
 
 PAYING DEBTS 339 
 
 " You wish me to drop Lynn? My dear 
 Henry, if you are thinking of setting up in 
 the ostracizing business I can supply you 
 with a long list of far more deserving 
 cases." 
 
 " I don't say that the girl is actually bad, 
 but she has been proved to be utterly de- 
 void of sense or decency. She shall never 
 set foot in my house again." 
 
 " In that case," Mrs. Hadwell's voice was 
 calm "I leave your house to-night and 
 take my children with me." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " They are all under seven and until 
 that age the mother has full control. I 
 shall take them to my grandmother in La- 
 chine; there, at least, I can receive my 
 friends my one friend, I should say! I 
 haven't another." 
 
 Mr. Hadwell stamped out of the room in 
 a fury. Mrs. Tollman and Mrs. Greene fol- 
 lowed him quietly, the former almost in 
 tears, the latter composed and cheerful. 
 When the door closed on them Mrs. Had- 
 well sat down and burst into tears. 
 
 "Oh, Lynn, Lynn, how could you?" she 
 sobbed.
 
 340 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 " Mrs. Hadwell, can you give me this Mr. 
 Ricossia's address?" 
 
 Mrs. Waite's cold, thin voice sounded un- 
 pleasantly at Estelle's elbow. 
 
 ' Yes, I believe it's the Chatham, either 
 10 or 12 St. Eustache St.," answered the 
 younger woman, staring through wet eyes 
 in sheer amazement. " Are you there, still, 
 Mrs. Waite? I thought you had gone." 
 
 " Don't don't mind so much," said the 
 " Gorgon-faced automaton " with difficulty. 
 " Perhaps something can be done." 
 
 " Oh, nothing, nothing, I am afraid, ex- 
 cept to stand by her." 
 
 " You believe this story? " 
 
 "No!" lied Mrs. Hadwell, firmly. 
 
 " Neither do I. I am sure there is some 
 explanation if one could only find out what 
 it is. And I have plenty of money, now; 
 money can do a great deal sometimes in 
 cases of this kind, and there is nothing I 
 would sooner spend it on " 
 
 " You you ? But, Mrs. Waite if you 
 don't mind my asking why should you 
 what is Lynn to you?" 
 
 Mrs. Waite moistened her dry lips and 
 spoke, faintly.
 
 PAYING DEBTS 341 
 
 " I had a child once. He died. . . . She 
 was his teacher and and she was good to 
 him. But don't tell her; she might try to 
 talk to me about him and and I couldn't 
 stand that " 
 
 Mrs. Waite stopped; her plain face con- 
 torted ludicrously. The next moment the 
 cold Mrs. Hadwell and the woman beside 
 whose frigid nature her own showed in the 
 light of a volcano were weeping bitterly in 
 one another's arms.
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 THE SHADOWS FALL 
 
 " All the dreaming is broken through, 
 Both what is done and undone I rue, 
 Nothing is tender, nothing true, 
 In heaven or earth save God and you." 
 
 Arthur Sullivan. 
 
 " But still the faces gaped and cried, 
 
 ' Give us the dream for which we died ! ' ' 
 
 Charles G. D. Roberts. 
 
 MRS. HADWELL, having hypno- 
 tized Mr. Hadwell into apologiz- 
 ing profusely for his conduct, 
 promised to forgive him if he would go 
 away for a week. 
 
 ' You have been talking for years of pay- 
 ing a visit to your sister in Toronto," she 
 said. " Suppose you go now, Henry. She 
 will be delighted to see you, and I after 
 a week of absence I shall be so glad to see 
 you, again, that I shall not even think of 
 
 this. Otherwise " 
 
 He went. When Estelle had seen him 
 342
 
 THE SHADOWS FALL 343 
 
 safely in the train she drew a long breath 
 of relief and telephoned to Miss Thayer. 
 Until then she had not dared to risk an 
 encounter between her friend and her hus- 
 band, knowing that the former was a keen 
 observer and the latter, a poor actor. 
 
 " Come to me, to-morrow, as soon as 
 school is out, dear," she said. " I shall be 
 in all afternoon. Promise!" 
 
 " Oh, yes, I shall come, Del," assented 
 the other, quietly. Mrs. Hadwell, listening 
 sorrowfully, thought she could detect a 
 note of unaccustomed grief in Lynn's voice. 
 She endeavoured to forget it, however, and, 
 giving orders to admit no visitors that eve- 
 ning, sat in front of the library fire, cudgel- 
 ling her brains for some method of rehabili- 
 tating her friend in public favour. Al- 
 though a woman of great resource and au- 
 dacity none occurred to her; the case was 
 too hopeless. 
 
 " Let me see," she said, judicially, " what 
 are the facts the known facts? First: 
 Lynn, who is a great favourite with men 
 but who shows partiality to none, develops 
 an enthusiastic fancy for an unknown ge- 
 nius who arrives in Montreal two years ago.
 
 344 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 She works night and day to induce her 
 friends to take him up; she takes long 
 walks and drives in his society; and is fre- 
 quently seen holding absorbed conversa- 
 tions with him in out-of-the-way places. 
 She puffs his writings untiringly; she per- 
 sists in ignoring his open faults; she makes 
 excuses for his bad habits. True, he is only 
 a child in years. Then he turns out to be 
 utterly depraved; everyone drops him; she 
 grows white and thin, refuses to discuss 
 him even with me and is seen talking with 
 him after he has been practically ostracised 
 by all reputable people. This is a year ago. 
 She, who has hitherto loved society and 
 revelled in every sort of outdoor exercise, 
 suddenly takes to refusing all invitations 
 and losing interest in all sports. To-day 
 half a dozen unimpeachable witnesses 
 and dear knows how many others are 
 ready to swear that they have seen her leave 
 his extremely dubious place of residence, 
 late at night. Oh, Lynn, Lynn, my dear 
 stupid child, how could you? What can I 
 do for you? If they were even people who 
 could be bought who could be bribed to 
 swear that they had lied ! oh, I give it
 
 THE SHADOWS FALL 345 
 
 up! I may as well telephone to Mrs. Waite 
 and see if she has any ideas." 
 
 "Is that you, Mrs. Waite? Yes, it is I, 
 Mrs. Hadwell. No, I have not seen Miss 
 Thayer yet but she is coming up to-morrow 
 afternoon. I don't know; I am most un- 
 happy about it. Yes, to-morrow afternoon. 
 Oh, why?" 
 
 " Because," answered Mrs. Waite, quietly, 
 " I think I have discovered something. Do 
 not, on any account, let Miss Thayer know, 
 or you may spoil everything. No, I can tell 
 you nothing. I have your permission to 
 bring him? then I shall say good-night." 
 
 " Most tantalising," muttered Estelle as 
 she hung up the receiver. " Still, as every- 
 thing is as bad already as it can well be, 
 nothing can make it much worse. How 
 truly comforting! Who is the person she 
 wants to bring, I wonder! and how can 
 he help poor Lynn? A plea of insanity is 
 the only solution that occurs to me. But 
 I'll stand by her and, in the meantime, 
 I'll drink a pint of porter and see if that 
 will make me sleep." 
 
 It did; and at four o'clock the next day 
 Mrs. Hadwell greeted her friend with an
 
 346 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 intensity of feeling that was almost sol- 
 emn. 
 
 " You poor child! " she said, as she kissed 
 her. 
 
 Lynn returned the kiss, listlessly, and sat 
 down. She looked rather tired. 
 
 " So you have not yet deserted me, Del? " 
 she said, quietly, as she loosened her wraps. 
 
 " Deserted you ! Oh, Lynn, Lynn, I 
 wouldn't desert you if you had committed 
 murder and sacrilege. But, my child, how 
 could you be so foolish? Why weren't you 
 content with doing a wrong thing without 
 going further and doing it in such a way 
 that it had to come out? I won't reproach 
 you for the thing, itself; I am too sick, 
 too sorry; but why, oh why, had you " 
 
 "Wait!" 
 
 Lynn put her hand to her forehead as 
 though bewildered. 
 
 " Just a minute, Del. I don't quite under- 
 stand. What is it that you think? " 
 
 " Don't fence with me, dear, any longer. 
 That green-eyed harpy of a Langham- 
 Greene has got hold of the whole affair. 
 You have been seen leaving the Chatham 
 late at night; you have been seen dismiss-
 
 THE SHADOWS FALL 347 
 
 ing a sleigh on Pine Avenue and walking 
 home." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " You know ! But, Lynn, how can you 
 take it so coolly? Don't you realise what 
 a terrible thing it is? " 
 
 "In what way?" 
 
 " Why, my dear, dear girl, your reputa- 
 tion is gone if we can't refute these state- 
 ments; you must know that." 
 
 " Yes, I know." 
 
 "You know!" 
 
 " Yes. The fact is, Del, that I have had 
 so many real troubles lately that the loss 
 of that intangible thing, reputation, affects 
 me little. I can get along without it." 
 
 " Lynn, you don't know what you are 
 saying. A woman's reputation is like her 
 clothing; it's a great bother, it's ruinously 
 expensive and it's sometimes distinctly un- 
 comfortable. The sad fact remains, how- 
 ever, that she must either have it or emi- 
 grate to the Sandwich Islands." 
 
 " My reputation, as you call it, Del, is 
 gone because two or three people say that 
 they have seen me doing an unusual thing. 
 It is true; I did it. Yet, if I had immersed
 
 348 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 myself in a nunnery and never stirred out- 
 side unless accompanied by an army of chap- 
 erons and escorts, my reputation might be 
 gone, just as effectually. The first man 
 who took a dislike to me could leave me 
 without a shred of character provided he 
 went to a little trouble and didn't mind a 
 few lies what man does? What is more, 
 I might never have heard of the matter till 
 years after; it merely happens that I am 
 aware of this. There may be fifty scandals 
 about me in other circles for anything I 
 know to the contrary. No, Del; I have 
 several troubles, but my lost reputation is 
 not one of them." 
 
 " My dear Lynn, are you absolutely indif- 
 ferent to the opinions of others? You must 
 be mad." 
 
 " Possibly. I don't say that I am not 
 oorry to think that many nice women must 
 have a wrong idea of me: but as for men 
 pah! What does it matter what they 
 think? It is not so very long ago since a 
 certain engagement was broken off in this 
 very city; the * gentleman ' took his former 
 fiancee's letters to the club and read them 
 there aloud amid shouts of laughter. There
 
 THE SHADOWS FALL 349 
 
 are men for you! the men that you and I 
 know! Who would want the good-will of 
 a pack of hounds like that? No; let them 
 have my reputation to tear to pieces if it 
 amuses them; I have other things to think 
 of." 
 
 " But Lynn, what are you going to do? " 
 
 " Stay here and face the music." 
 
 "Stay here?" 
 
 " Certainly. What do you take me 
 for?" 
 
 " A madwoman. You mean to stay in a 
 place where everyone knows where the 
 man is still living where" 
 
 'Why not? I've done nothing to be 
 ashamed of, even granting that I have acted 
 foolishly. I'm not going to skulk off!" 
 
 "Nothing to be ashamed of! Lynn! 
 Why do you persist in maintaining this 
 attitude? You compel me to speak plainly. 
 You have done what is unforgivable you 
 have done " 
 
 "Wait a minute, Del! You mean?" 
 
 " I mean oh, Lynn, Lynn, don't you 
 see that if you had only kept this dreadful 
 thing secret; if you only hadn't allowed 
 people to know, positively, that you had
 
 350 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 done the one thing that is never pardoned 
 in a woman if you had only " 
 
 "Ah!" 
 
 Lynn rose, slowly. 
 
 " I didn't know, Del I knew what men 
 were like I didn't know what you have 
 taught me! Good-bye." 
 
 " Lynn. Wait! Where are you going? " 
 
 " Home to tell my uncle and aunt that 
 I have been seen leaving the Chatham at 
 night. If they won't have me in their 
 house I'll go, elsewhere. I have proved 
 the w r orth of the two people, man and 
 woman, who professed to love me best on 
 earth; now I want to rid myself of all the 
 rest. Good-bye." 
 
 " Good heavens ! You don't mean to say 
 that you are trying to deny?" 
 
 " I am denying and trying to deny noth- 
 ing. I refuse to discuss the subject. I 
 suppose I must make up my mind to ex- 
 pect insults from strangers, but I am not 
 compelled to receive them from my friends 
 or from those who were once my friends. 
 I have no friends, now; I never had father 
 or mother or or and now I have neither 
 friend nor lover. Knowing what I now
 
 THE SHADOWS FALL 351 
 
 know of love and friendship I am 
 glad!" 
 
 " Oh, Lynn, Lynn! This to me! when I 
 would move heaven and earth to help you ! " 
 cried Mrs. Hadwell, miserably. " How can 
 you doubt my friendship? I tell you that 
 if, to-morrow, everyone threw you over my 
 house would still be open to you." 
 
 ' Your house ! Do you think I would 
 ever enter it again? Fool! We've known 
 each other from childhood up, and yet, to- 
 day, you think you can insult me and be 
 forgiven. The sight of you makes me feel 
 sick. Don't stop me, don't speak to me " 
 
 Mrs. Hadwell had risen to intercept her. 
 Lynn hastened past her to the door. There 
 stood Gerald Amherst, white as death. 
 
 For a long moment the three stood in 
 silence. Lynn was the first to break it 
 and her voice was mocking. 
 
 'You interrupted an affecting farewell, 
 Mr. Amherst. I was saying good-bye to my 
 bosom friend, just as, not long ago, I said 
 good-bye to my devoted lover. Having 
 done what politeness demands I shall now 
 take my departure." 
 
 " No ! " exclaimed Estelle, rushing for-
 
 352 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 ward. " Don't let her, Mr. Amherst. She 
 doesn't know what she's saying or doing 
 and I must keep her till she understands. 
 Lynn, wait! Let me explain." 
 
 Lynn, with a gesture that was almost 
 majestic, motioned Amherst from the door- 
 way where he still stood. He hesitated, 
 trembling and uncertain; and while he 
 hesitated, steps sounded in the hall behind 
 and Mrs. Waite spoke. 
 
 "Mr. Amherst, don't go away! nor you, 
 either, Miss Thayer. I wish very much to 
 see you, both. I am sorry to be late, 
 but " 
 
 Amherst moved aside, mechanically, and 
 Amy Waite entered, followed by Ricossia. 
 The two women stood where they were, 
 unable to speak or move; and Ricossia 
 spoke, pleasantly. 
 
 " Mrs. Waite has brought me here in 
 order that I may explain " 
 
 "LioU" 
 
 " Don't be absurd, Lynn ! The fact is, 
 good people," said the boy carelessly, " that 
 Lynn's mother was also mine; and Lynn, 
 as a child, contracted some crazy affection 
 for me which seems to have got her into
 
 THE SHADOWS FALL 353 
 
 general trouble. In the first place, she 
 swore an insane oath to my mother you 
 see the latter was dying and sent for her 
 secretly it's hard to explain! but Mr. 
 and Mrs. Thayer, knowing what a bad lot 
 my father was and judging rightly that I 
 would be likely to take after him which 
 I certainly did ! made it part of the bar- 
 gain when they adopted Lynn that she was 
 to have nothing to do with the lot of us. 
 Lynn, however, had always remembered 
 me, it seems, and so, when my mother sent 
 for her and explained that my father would 
 see me starve to death before he would 
 spend a penny on me, Lynn undertook to 
 provide for my upbringing out of her earn- 
 ings as a teacher. That was all very well; 
 but what does my mother do but get ex- 
 cited and make her swear that she will 
 never tell anyone that I am her brother, in 
 case it may get to the ears of the Thayers 
 and make them throw her over. Lynn 
 tries to get out of it but finally swears and 
 and then I'm not over strong, and I 
 fancy I'll sit down if you'll allow me. For 
 God's sake, Lynn, don't look like that! 
 what on earth's the matter with you?"
 
 354 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 No one spoke and Ricossia leaned back 
 wearily in the chair which he had taken, 
 his beautiful face haggard, his great eyes 
 hollow and emptied of expression. Lynn 
 stood like a statue; since her first exclama- 
 tion she had remained silent but her face 
 had changed. Something resembling hope 
 had crept into her eyes and mingled with 
 the fierce love that illumined them when- 
 ever they rested on her brother. As he lay 
 back, breathing faintly, she moved toward 
 him and stood, looking down. 
 
 " God is not all cruel," she said, as though 
 to herself. " He has taken all the rest 
 but He has given me this, at least, before 
 you die the knowledge that you do care 
 a little, Liol. Else, why should you have 
 done this? " 
 
 Her tired face softened with a beautiful 
 peace. 
 
 " I don't know what on earth you are 
 muttering to yourself about," said the con- 
 sumptive, shrugging his shoulders, whimsi- 
 cally, " but, if you imagine, my dear girl, 
 that I dragged myself up this infernal hill 
 to save you from the consequences of your 
 own folly, you're mistaken. Why shouldn't
 
 THE SHADOWS FALL 355 
 
 you break the fool oath? However, you'll 
 be glad to hear that you'll be able to keep 
 your own earnings in the future. I've made 
 a haul that " 
 
 " Mr. Ricossia," broke in the metallic 
 voice of Mrs. Waite, " refused at first to 
 explain the object of Miss Thayer's visits. 
 I therefore " 
 
 " She therefore paid me well to do it 
 as I surmised she would," said Ricossia, 
 composedly. " What are you looking like 
 that for, Lynn? Thank goodness, I'm de- 
 pendent on your vagaries no longer; the 
 doctor tells me that, if I reach California 
 alive, I may live a month or so longer 
 he doesn't promise that I will reach it, 
 but if I do ! " He sprang to his feet, 
 irradiated and glorious " if I do by 
 God, I'll see Life before I die! " 
 
 "You infernal young scoundrel!" broke 
 in Amherst, unable to contain himself 
 
 longer, " you d d ungrateful young 
 
 blackguard! is this your return to your 
 sister for all she has done and suffered? 
 Have you no shame?" 
 
 "Not a particle!" answered the other, 
 laughing. " No shame and no love in my
 
 356 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 composition! I never cared for any living 
 thing but myself not even my mother. 
 As for Lynn, I'm going to do her one kind- 
 ness before I die; and that is to tell her 
 the truth. Lynn, you have never been any- 
 thing to me at any time but a necessary 
 evil; I had to have money to live, and from 
 you, only, was I able to obtain it; therefore 
 I tried to feign a little affection for you 
 which I never felt in the most remote de- 
 gree. I've allowed you to sacrifice time, 
 money, and finally reputation to me; and 
 now that I'm going off alone to die riot- 
 ously and wickedly and happily as I've 
 always wanted to I leave you this piece 
 of advice. Marry Amherst and forget all 
 about me. I'll forget you as soon as I'm 
 out of your sight, which will be very soon, 
 I promise you." 
 
 Something approaching horror showed in 
 the faces of his hearers; they looked un- 
 certainly at one another, doubtful whether 
 to still the cruel voice or no. Lynn, only, 
 remained motionless; her face was grey 
 and her hands twitched a little. Gerald, 
 who stood nearest, alone heard her whisper: 
 
 " Not this ! Oh, God, not this ! "
 
 THE SHADOWS FALL 357 
 
 " Lynn," he burst forth, " what can I 
 say? Come with me, forgive me; I'll spend 
 my life in making amends. Don't mind 
 him; he doesn't know what he's saying; 
 he's sick, crazy, mad! they all get like that 
 when they take drugs. Lynn! " 
 
 She turned very slowly and looked at 
 him. 
 
 "You want me?" she asked, dully. 
 "Think! the best of me is dead; you've 
 helped to kill it, all of you. I'm an old 
 woman now; I'll never be young, again, 
 never be young or light-hearted or gay 
 again, while this life lasts. Are you sure 
 you want me? " 
 
 "Come!" 
 
 Lynn looked at him . . . then slowly, 
 very slowly, put her hand in his. 
 
 ' The little boy I loved is dead, too," she 
 said, rather lifelessly. " That that is a 
 ghoul that has taken his beautiful form. 
 Oh, my baby, my baby! my little dark-eyed 
 angel that I loved so! to think that you 
 should die and I not know it. Or perhaps 
 you never lived, really. . . . Let us go, 
 Gerald! let us go away from it, all! I'm 
 tired. You you'll not fail me?"
 
 358 THE ARCH - SATIRIST 
 
 " Before God, I will not." 
 
 They moved toward the door. On its 
 threshold Lynn paused and turned. The 
 red evening sunlight was streaming through 
 the window and its scarlet flame lay 
 strangely on the deathless beauty of her 
 brother's face. She surveyed it in silence 
 . . . the face that had held all heaven and 
 all hell for her since the moment when she, 
 a lonely, loveless child, had seen and wor- 
 shipped it first. 
 
 " Good-bye, Liol ! " she said at last, very 
 softly. " You've been my idol all my life, 
 and I'm never going to see you again in 
 time or in eternity, and I thank God for 
 it. ... Good-bye." 
 
 Gerald drew her gently away and the 
 door closed behind them. 
 
 THE END.
 
 The Potter and the Clay 
 
 A Romance of To-day 
 
 By MAUD HOWARD PETERSON. Bound in blue doth, 
 decorative cover, rough edges, gilt top. Four drawings by 
 Charlotte Harding. Size, 5x7^. Price $1.50 
 
 ONE of the strongest and most forceful of re- 
 cent novels, now attracting marked attention, 
 and already one of the most successful books of 
 the present year. The characters are unique, 
 the plot is puzzling, and the action is remarkably 
 vivid. Readers and critics alike pronounce it a 
 romance of rare strength and beauty. The scenes 
 are laid in America, Scotland, and India ; and one 
 of the most thrilling and pathetic chapters in re- 
 cent fiction is found in Trevelyan's heroic self- 
 sacrifice during the heart-rending epidemic of 
 cholera in the latter country. The story through- 
 out is one of great strength. 
 
 Margaret E. Sangster: "From the opening 
 chapter, which tugs at the heart, to the close, 
 when we read through tears, the charm of the 
 book never flags. It is not for one season, but 
 of abiding human interest." 
 
 Minot J. Savage : " I predict for the book a very 
 large sale, and for the authoress brilliant work 
 in the future." 
 
 Boston Journalt " One of the most remarkable books 
 of the year. Brilliant, but better than that, 
 tender." 
 
 Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co., Boston
 
 Che Cittle Green Door 
 
 By MART E. STONE BASSETT 
 
 Eight illustrations by Louise Clarke and twenty-five decorative 
 half-tide pages by Ethel Pearce Clements 
 
 izmo Cloth $1.50 
 
 A charming romance of the time of 
 Louis XIII. The door which 
 gives the title to the book leads to a 
 beautiful retired garden belonging to the 
 King. In this garden is developed one of 
 the sweetest and tenderest romances ever 
 told. The tone of the book is singularly 
 pure and elevated, although its power is 
 intense. 
 
 "This is a tale of limpid purity and sweetness, which, although 
 its action is developed amid the intrigues and deceptions of a corrupt 
 French court, remains fine and delicate to the end. There is 
 power as well as poetry in the little romance, so delicate in con- 
 ception." Chicago Daily News. 
 
 "Tender, sweet, passionate, pure ; a lily from the garden of 
 loves . ' ' Baltimore Herald. 
 
 "The story is exquisitely pure and tender, possessing a finished 
 daintiness that will charm all clean-minded persons." Louisville 
 Courier-Journal . 
 
 "This book carries with it all the exhilaration of a beautiful 
 nature, of flowers, birds, and living things, and the beauty of a 
 winsome personality of a pure, beautiful girl. It is a romance en- 
 tirely of the fancy, but a refreshing one." Chicago Tribune. 
 
 "The little romance is charmingly wrought, and will be sure to 
 find its way to the heart of the reader." Boston Transcript. 
 
 Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co. 
 
 BOSTON
 
 MISS BILLY 
 
 A NEIGHBORHOOD STORY 
 
 By EDITH K. STOKELY and MARIAN K. KURD 
 
 Illustrated by CHARLES COPELAND 
 
 I2mo Cloth 1.50 
 
 "VilSS BILLY" deserves more than passing 
 * * notice in these days of civic improvement. 
 It is a story of what an irrepressible young woman 
 accomplished in the neighborhood into which her 
 family felt obliged to move for financial reasons. 
 The street was almost as unpromising as the celebrated 
 " Cabbage Patch." and its characters equally inter- 
 esting and original. The happy common-sense of 
 Miss Billy and the quaint sayings and doings of 
 her new neighbors form a capital story. 
 
 "The story abounds in humor with a hint of tears and an over- 
 flowing kindness of heart bubbling over in infectious gayety." 
 
 Boston Herald. 
 
 "The book is sure to have an immense number of readers." 
 
 St. Louis Star. 
 
 "The plan of the tale is original, the conversation very bright and 
 witty, the style smooth, and the characters true to life." 
 
 Boston Transcript. 
 
 "It is a human interest story which appeals to the heart, and at 
 one juncture to the eyes of the sympathetic readers." 
 
 Pittsburg Chronicle Telegraph. 
 
 " 'Miss Billy' is a charmingly bright, clever little story, full of 
 spontaneous humor and frankly inspirational." 
 
 Chicago Daily Nevis. 
 
 "This is an ideal story." N. Y. Times. 
 
 Eotbrop, Cce $ Sbcpard go. * * Boston
 
 The Lions of the Lord 
 
 By HARRY LEON WILSON 
 
 Author of The Spenders." Six illustrations by Rose Cecil 
 O'Neill, bound in dark green cloth, illustrated cover, lamo. 
 ".50, postpaid. 
 
 In his romance of the old West, " The Lions of the Lord," 
 Mr. Wilson, whose " The Spenders " is one of the successes 
 of the present year, shows an advance in strength and grasp 
 bdth in art and life. It is a thrilling tale of the Mormon set- 
 tlement of Salt Lake City, with all its grotesque comedy, 
 grim tragedy, and import to American civilization. The 
 author's feeling for the Western scenery affords him an 
 opportunity for many graphic pen pictures, and he is equally 
 strong in character and in description. For the first time in 
 a novel is the tragi-comedy of the Mormon development 
 adequately set forth. Nothing fresher or more vital has 
 been produced by a native novelist. 
 
 The Spenders 
 
 By HARRY LEON WILSON 
 70th Thousand 
 
 Author of " The Lions of the Lord." Red silk cloth, rough 
 edges, picture cover. Six illustrations by Rose Cecil 
 O'Neill. I2mo. $1.50, postpaid. 
 
 Mark Twain writes to the author : " It cost me my day 
 yesterday. You owe me $400. But never mind, I forgive 
 you for the book's sake." 
 
 Louisville Courier-Journal says : " If there is such a thing 
 as the American novel of a new method, this is one. Abso- 
 lutely to be enjoyed is it from the first page to the last." 
 
 Harry Thurston Peck, in the New York American, says : 
 " The very best two books written by Americans during the 
 past year have been ' The Spenders,' by Harry Leon Wilson, 
 and The Pit,' by Frank Norris." 
 
 Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co., Boston
 
 BBC
 
 ,. U .S.f . U J H .E Rf i.?EGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 A 000 806 474 3