SUNRISE FROM THE HILL-TOP 
 BEATRICE BARMBY
 
 SUNRISE FROM THE 
 HILL-TOP 
 
 BY 
 
 BEATRICE BARMBY 
 
 Author of " Betty Marchand," etc. 
 
 NEW NtSJr YORK 
 GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY
 
 Copyright, ipxp 
 By George H. Doran Company 
 
 Printed in the United States of America
 
 " The Love which will not make sacrifices to its object 
 is no proper Love. Grounded in admiration and the 
 feeling of enjoyment, it is a fit Love for a picture, or a 
 statue, or a poem; but for a living soul it is not fit. 
 Alas! Without deep sacrifices on both sides, the possi- 
 bility of union is an empty dream." 
 
 CARLYLE 
 
 2134274
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 Book I , ACB 
 
 GIRLHOOD n 
 
 Book II 
 THE COMING OF THE AMERICAN 37 
 
 Book III 
 MARRIAGE 83 
 
 Book IV 
 THE NEW COUNTRY ....... 149 
 
 Book V 
 DEFIANCE 215 
 
 Book VI 
 SUNRISE . . 257
 
 BOOK ONE: GIRLHOOD
 
 BOOK ONE: GIRLHOOD 
 Chapter One 
 
 "TVT ARGARET! "~ and after a moment ' s 
 
 IV J. " Margaret, I want you ! " 
 My mother's voice floated softly to me from the dis- 
 tance piercing the haze of dreams and sunlight and 
 apple blossoms in which I had been basking dreams, 
 for was it not my nineteenth birthday and the future 
 touched by a rosy glamour ? As for the blossoms and 
 the sunlight I was sitting perched in my favorite apple 
 tree, just where a young bough left the parent trunk, 
 and the soft sunshine of a late spring afternoon beau- 
 tified all that it touched. 
 
 I was intensely happy with my dreams and a box of 
 chocolates and with a little thrill of excitement at dis- 
 obeying my august mother I nestled still further into 
 the mass of green and pink, and again gave myself to 
 my thoughts. School was finished, thank goodness, 
 and I could look forward to spending years and years 
 in this dear place. How passionately I had resented 
 being separated from it even for the two years I had 
 just spent at " the most exclusive boarding-school in 
 Bournemouth," as the prospectus had it they might 
 have added " the most expensive ! "
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 Through the hedge which separated the orchard 
 from the farm-yard, I could see that everything had 
 succumbed to the same desire for peaceful basking in 
 the afternoon sunshine. During the morning, Mother 
 Carey had been busy picking and clucking and chasing 
 her restless brood of fluffy yellow chickens, but now 
 the spell which had set me dreaming had stilled her 
 energies and those of her children. Just by the side 
 of the sweet-smelling haystack she sat, head sunk on 
 breast, eyes shut, sheltering her family. Only an oc- 
 casional gleam of her bright eyes and a sudden raising 
 of her head showing that in spite of her laziness she 
 was yet alive to the duties of motherhood. Near her, 
 Bruno, my bulldog, lay with his head on his paws, 
 trembling now and then as he dreamed of rats and 
 well-fought fights and other such delectable things. In 
 a nearby field, a new colt which through the morning 
 had been exercising his ridiculous long legs, and teas- 
 ing his mother with his youthful spirits, now stood 
 beside her, head nuzzling into her brown body, as 
 she too rested beneath the shade of a great elm. Even 
 old John, the gardener, who was supposed to be dig- 
 ging, was leaning up against a tree, hat tilted over 
 eyes, hands folded on his spade. Over everything 
 the same peace and sense of well-being rested ; the air 
 was full of the quiet, somnolent beauty of the sunny 
 afternoon. 
 
 As I looked through the trees at the long rambling 
 lines of the old grey stone house, the beauty of the 
 setting brought a lump to my throat. I often thought
 
 Girlhood 
 
 that Mother Nature had taken a personal interest in 
 the resting-place for our home, it was so ideal. Stand- 
 ing on gently rising ground, the thick trees came down 
 to meet it on three sides, as though during its four 
 hundred years' existence it were something they had 
 learned to love and wished to touch. From my bed- 
 room window, I could always hear their voices some- 
 times a soft gentle rustling, sometimes in stormy 
 weather a loud thrashing to and fro, a sound which 
 my mother said she hated, but which I loved and 
 listened to for hours. From the front of the house 
 the view was free, and down a gentle slope, green 
 lawns and rolling parkland stretched into the distance, 
 separated from the village by a low grey stone wall. 
 The yellow strip of the drive, bordered by elms, broke 
 the surrounding greenness. At the back of the house 
 to the left lay the farm buildings; to the right the 
 orchard, and beyond that the beautiful thick woods. 
 For a little way the path through them was level, 
 then it rose steeply, climbing the hill-side, still thickly 
 wooded. 
 
 And after the climb, what a view from the hill -top! 
 The dark brown furrows of the ploughed fields, or 
 the waving yellow of the corn splashed with the vivid 
 scarlet poppies and criss-crossed by low, prim hedges, 
 stretching away across the valley, and climbing the 
 next gentle slope. There was nothing grand or rugged 
 about it; all was fair, peaceful, smiling soil which 
 had been tilled, and crops which had been gathered 
 generation after generation. Even under a heavy, 
 
 [13]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 winter sky, the place still had something of peace, of 
 ancient security about it. 
 
 At the beginning of the woods, another path led to 
 the right, dipping down to the lake, or mere, which 
 gave the house its name of Meadowmere. No one 
 knew the depth of the still black waters. It was a place 
 of mystery, to which the sunlight scarcely penetrated 
 through the thick trees and I doubt if any one of the 
 villagers would have been bold enough to go near it 
 at night, for fearsome stories had been handed down 
 from father to son generations of mothers had used 
 it as a bogy to still the children on their knees, and 
 superstition and sometimes tragic fact had made it 
 a spot to be avoided. Yet it was the place to which 
 I went when I was sad or lonely, choosing the 
 path to the hill-top only in a mood of buoyant happi- 
 ness. 
 
 These occasional fits of loneliness were due to my 
 family's lack of response to the affection I felt for 
 them. Between my mother and me was a barrier due 
 perhaps to a temperamental difference, she being bril- 
 liant and handsome with a restless energy and unusual 
 powers of organisation, while I was shy and dreamy. 
 My father was a reserved, scholarly man, who was 
 chiefly interested in his books, while Tom, my only 
 brother, was not a being who appreciated a loving 
 sympathy, for though he was always getting into 
 scrapes, his handsome face and laughing blue eyes 
 seemed to be quite capable of getting him out of 
 them. Everyone loved and admired him; farmhands,
 
 Girlhood 
 
 labourers, servants, villagers spoiled and indulged him 
 to the top of his bent. 
 
 And so it happened that as no one around me seemed 
 to want the almost passionate devotion of which I 
 was capable and which was hidden by a shy reserve, 
 I poured it out over my home, over the very stones 
 of it, over the broad lawns and great oak-trees, the 
 still deep lake bordered by the brownheaded rushes, 
 the village which was called Sunnydale, with its old- 
 fashioned cottages and winding lanes, the people in it. 
 I knew their histories, their troubles, their joys, and 
 I gave to all of them all I had to give, love, sympathy 
 and pity. I adored the fat cuddly babies, the chickens, 
 puppies, kittens, calves everything which was young 
 and helpless and which wanted love. Not a new living 
 thing was born but that ' Miss Margaret must see it ! ' 
 
 It was this tremendous love for my home which had 
 nearly brought about a tragedy. ' T'owld Squi-er ' 
 had had no children. Father had not come into the 
 estate until Tom was two years old and it was perhaps 
 because my brother had been born in the South of 
 France while I had opened my eyes in Meadowmere 
 that our feelings about it were so different; for while 
 I would have been crazy to be the future owner of 
 my darling home, the prospect did not bring him any 
 joy at all. 
 
 That awful day when I thought that I had killed my 
 brother! . . . There had been thunder in the 
 air, the warm oppressive heat making everyone irrita- 
 ble and as it was at the end of the summer holidays, 
 
 [153
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 my temper had not been improved by the long period 
 of Tom's attentions in the shape of apple-pie beds, 
 hair tied to chairs, or the ' murder ' of a much-loved 
 doll. But when after dinner in the schoolroom we 
 passed down the broad path leading from the house to 
 the paddock where our ponies were feeding, love for 
 my home softened me towards him who would be 
 owner of it all, and with emotion I exclaimed unreserv- 
 edly and earnestly, 
 
 " Tom, don't you love it! " 
 
 " Love it, love what? " 
 
 At the suspicion of mockery in his tone, my feel- 
 ings choked in my throat and with a lame gesture I 
 said flatly, " Oh, all of this, our home." 
 
 " Love it, crikey, no ! I think it is a dull old hole. 
 When I'm grown up, bachelor quarters in London for 
 me, my girl, no poking around Meadowmere." 
 
 " Tom, do you mean you won't live here? " I asked, 
 aghast. 
 
 " I do mean just that. And," he went on with a 
 grin, " I'll probably let it to a farmer who v/ill plant 
 potatoes on the lawns, and use the house as a show- 
 place for the country bumpkins at tuppence a time. 
 How will that suit you? " He caught my hands and 
 jeered into my face. 
 
 This outrage to my most solemn feelings added fuel 
 to my previous irritation, momentary gentleness 
 making it seem a yet more heinous crime. A flaming 
 rage shook me. 
 
 " Let me go ! " I said furiously, trying to get away. 
 
 [16]
 
 Girlhood 
 
 But he only grinned the more, as he shifted his grasp 
 and said, 
 
 " See, I can hold you with one hand ! " 
 
 I was trembling, and the colour which had flooded 
 my face ebbed away, leaving me pale with a fury 
 which choked me. I could not speak. Seeing that 
 there was no further amusement to be got out of me, 
 and with a last shake of my imprisoned hands, " Little 
 spitfire, aren't you ? " he said, and walked off, whis- 
 tling cheerily. 
 
 The desire to hurt, to punish my tormentor over- 
 came my usual timidity. With the primitive instinct 
 for revenge, I picked up a sharp stone and with all 
 my might flung it at his retreating figure. I heard 
 a crash, saw him stop, waver a second, and then 
 fall. 
 
 I waited breathlessly, my anger ebbing in terror. 
 What had I done? I waited a moment longer. He 
 did not move, and slowly I dragged my feet towards 
 him. From the side of his head blood was flowing in 
 a sickly stream. My terrible screams brought people 
 running shadows which danced before my eyes, till 
 one took shape and catching me by the shoulder, she 
 shook me back and forth. It was my mother. 
 
 "If you've killed him, you'll suffer for this," she 
 said. Her face frightened me even more than her 
 words, but the thought that she would have made ex- 
 cuses if it had been Tom who had done this awful thing 
 to me, hardened my heart, and I stood sullenly, with- 
 out expressing my deep remorse.
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 Then father came, and taking her arm, said quietly, 
 
 " Please come into the house. Don't make a scene 
 before the servants." So I was left alone and at a 
 distance crept after that grim procession. For hours, 
 it seemed to me, I sat crouched on the wide window 
 ledge in the library, half hidden by the curtains, as 
 the unusual sounds of haste and ringing of bells 
 went on around me. Presently footsteps came into the 
 room and a voice called softly, 
 
 " Margaret, where are you ? " 
 
 It was my father. His face was white and grieved, 
 and with the reaction from fury and fear, I flung my- 
 self into his arms and with passionate sobs, I said, 
 
 " Father, I didn't mean to kill Tom, I only wanted 
 to punish him. Will he get better ? " 
 
 " Yes," he answered gravely. " The doctor says he 
 is not seriously hurt, he was only stunned. But what 
 made you do such a terrible thing? " 
 
 I had always borne Tom's teasing without com- 
 plaining to anyone, but now some sympathy in Father's 
 voice made me sob out the story of the little persecu- 
 tions and of the final thing which had made me blind 
 with rage. " Oh, why should Tom have Meadowmere, 
 when he does not care, and I love it so ? " I ended. 
 
 His face went still whiter, and he half turned his 
 head. " So he doesn't even care! Poor little girl! " 
 and then I thought he murmured, " What have I 
 done ? What have I done ? " Only how could that be, 
 for it was I who had done things ? 
 
 " What do you mean, Father? " I asked shyly. 
 
 [18]
 
 Girlhood 
 
 He looked at me as though I were a long way off. 
 Then he muttered again " Poor little Margaret ! 
 What bonds we forge in youth and ignorance." And 
 his face crinkled up as though something were hurting 
 him. 
 
 " Do you think mother will forgive me ? " I asked 
 later, touching his arm, for he seemed to have forgot- 
 ten me. 
 
 " I hope so, I will help her to do so." Even as his 
 words gave me comfort, I wondered why she would 
 need help if father forgave me, when Tom was his 
 only son and heir? In my heart I could not help feel- 
 ing that he blamed Tom more than he blamed me, and 
 in this moment of unusual sympathy, I put the question 
 which so often puzzled me, 
 
 " Why doesn't mother love me like she loves Tom ? " 
 
 His arm tightened round me. "Of course she 
 does." 
 
 " No, I know she does not/' I said, with settled con- 
 viction. " Is it because I am not pretty ? " My dark 
 eyes and heavy dark hair had never pleased me and 
 my cheeks were unusually colourless, in spite of the 
 country air. 
 
 " Perhaps you will be a case of * The Ugly Duck- 
 ling '," he said with a sad smile. 
 
 When I went into Tom's room next day, the sight of 
 his white face and bandaged head brought the tears 
 to my eyes. In spite of what I suffered from his teas- 
 ing attentions, I loved him intensely, admiring and 
 envying his handsome face and easy manners which 
 
 [19]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 were so different from my own reserve and awkward- 
 ness. 
 
 Very humbly I said, " I'm awfully sorry will you 
 forgive me? " 
 
 " That's all right, old girl, it was my fault, I 'spects," 
 and his generosity made me feel a greater sinner than 
 ever. That was always the way with Tom! Sunny 
 and good-tempered, he walked away from the conse- 
 quences of his mischief with a smile, leaving his vic- 
 tims with the feeling that they were actually respon- 
 sible for the catastrophe. . . . 
 
 How vivid was my memory of those awful hours 
 when I did not know whether he would live ! Now he 
 was at Oxford, spending lots of money and I doubt 
 not making many friends. I knew that he had had a 
 row with Father last vacation over some debts but as 
 usual Mother had helped him out. 
 
 This was always the way. Tom was still her idol, 
 nothing he did being wrong in her eyes, while I was 
 unloved, unwanted. Curiously enough with my father 
 the preference seemed to be reversed; I knew that he 
 loved me while he judged Tom so sharply, never 
 seeming to thaw under the attractiveness of his good- 
 natured personality. This divided allegiance on the 
 part of my parents puzzled me. There was something 
 uncanny, mysterious about it. Sometimes I felt that 
 it was rooted in something unknown, entirely uncon- 
 nected with the preferences which our different tem- 
 peraments might have caused. 
 
 Suddenly my reverie was broken by the sharp voice 
 
 [20]
 
 Girlhood 
 
 of Harris, Mother's maid. I heard her call, " Miss 
 Margaret, where are you ? " Then in a lower voice, 
 "Drat that child!" 
 
 With a sigh I made up my mind that I would have 
 to obey her call, and swinging out of the tree, I walked 
 towards her. 
 
 "What's the matter, Harris?" 
 
 " The mistress says you are please to come in at 
 once," she answered. 
 
 Her prim looks amused me after her exclamation. 
 " What can she want with me indoors this lovely 
 day?" 
 
 The woman gave me a curious glance, then her face 
 resumed its usual wooden expression. " Sir Mark 
 Haselton is there." 
 
 "Oh bother!" I said crossly. It was not that I 
 did not like Sir Mark, I did, very much, for he was 
 always so kind to me. He was our nearest neighbor, 
 and the largest landowner for miles, and as he was 
 unmarried his mother looked after his household at 
 the Hall. He was, moreover, father's most intimate 
 friend and ever since I could remember he had been 
 a familiar figure in my life, giving me chocolates and 
 books, and writing me nice letters when I was at 
 school. 
 
 But to go into the house this lovely afternoon! 
 Why couldn't he come out? Anyway, why was / 
 wanted to entertain him? I was not usually consid- 
 ered so important! 
 
 As I walked to the house I pondered over this fur- 
 
 [21]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 ther mark of the new consideration which I had just 
 lately noticed in my mother's attitude. Perhaps Sir 
 Mark had told her that he thought I had improved. I 
 smiled again with pleasure as I remembered my first 
 meeting with him after my two years' absence at 
 Bournemouth. 
 
 It was at a garden party and Mother had taken 
 an unusual interest in my dress and had sent Harris to 
 help me. Even while I was gratefully accepting her 
 aid, I was delighting over this new evidence that per- 
 haps Mother was beginning to love me a little. Then 
 the pleasure in my sudden blooming had driven 
 thoughts away. I had seen in the mirror a small, slim 
 girl in a simple white dress, the brim of her large hat 
 lined with a soft pink, which shaded with the paler 
 pink of her cheeks, the light catching the waves of 
 her dark hair and relieving its heavy masses, and her 
 eyes, dark, dreamy, full of the thoughts of youth, just 
 then smiling at the figure they saw, but often hiding 
 a wistful look under their dark-lashed lids. " Really 
 I am quite pleased with you! " I had said, nodding at 
 my reflection and delighted to see something which 
 did not offend my eye for beauty. 
 
 Sir Mark was talking to the vicar's wife when we 
 went in, and as he turned away, I went eagerly to greet 
 him, for he was the one grown-up with whom I was 
 never shy. 
 
 But instead of responding- to my gay " Good after- 
 noon," and outstretched hand, he just stared. Then 
 recovering his usual easy manner, he said, 
 
 [22]
 
 Girlhood 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Margaret, but you just took 
 my breath away, you have changed so much." 
 
 " For the better, I hope ! " I said smiling. 
 
 " Yes, indeed ! " he answered with emphasis. 
 
 "You think it couldn't have been for the worse! " 
 
 " Now you are trying to catch me in a trap," and 
 he joined in my laughter. My satisfaction grew rap- 
 idly; it was splendid to feel this new ease and to know 
 that Mother need no longer call me sulky because an 
 agonised shyness kept me quietly in a corner. Two 
 years away from Meadowmere had not been wasted. 
 After that, I had seen Sir Mark very often indeed it 
 seemed as though hardly a day passed but that we 
 met somewhere. 
 
 Now I was being brought in to entertain him! 
 I stood for a moment in the porch, watching the 
 scene, my heart stirred again by the sense of youth 
 and springtime, by the many evidences of love and 
 motherhood around me. A quick feeling of the de- 
 sirability of this universal mating sent the colour to my 
 cheeks, and with breathing quickened by these roman- 
 tic, youthful dreams I passed into the cool hall. 
 
 Was it the sudden change from light to shade, from 
 warmth to coolness, which sent a shiver through me? 
 I could hear the sound of voices, but as my footsteps 
 echoed on the stone floor of the hall they stopped. I 
 was conscious of an unusual constraint on my mother's 
 part as I went into the drawing-room and greeted Sir 
 Mark. He was even more gentle, more courteous than 
 usual, though I thought that he was not at ease. 
 
 [23]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 " Margaret," said my mother, in her most honeyed 
 tone, " Sir Mark has something to say to you, and I 
 want you to know that it has my entire approval," 
 and without another word she went out. I was 
 astounded and stood there staring, struck dumb by 
 this sudden thrusting to the centre of the stage. 
 
 I noticed that Sir Mark was very pale, and after a 
 moment's awkward silence, he said in a halting voice, 
 
 " Margaret, I would rather have spoken to you first, 
 but you are so young that I felt I ought to ask your 
 mother if I had her approval." 
 
 " Approval ! " I stammered. 
 
 " Yes, I will you marry me Margaret ? " 
 
 My head whirled. Marry him ! When I had always 
 classed him with my father ! I looked at him steadily, 
 feeling that there must be something new about him, 
 that my previous conception had been wrong. But no, 
 he looked just the same kind, gentle friend that I had 
 always known, with dark blue eyes and fair hair and 
 a figure slender and straight in spite of his age why, 
 he must be at least forty! And yet he had asked me 
 to marry him, and I was only nineteen. 
 
 " I don't know," I said stupidly. 
 
 He came nearer. " I love you," he said in a low 
 breathless voice, " don't think that I wanted this form- 
 ality, but you are so young that my conscience bade 
 me ask your mother first; my heart only wanted to 
 ask you if you loved me, I only wanted to take you in 
 my arms and hear you say ' yes', like this." 
 
 His eyes were strangely brilliant in his white face, 
 [24]
 
 Girlhood 
 
 and I could feel him tremble. How extraordinary 
 that he should be affected like this over me! After 
 the first touch of vanity, I felt vaguely miserable 
 there was something wrong with this wooing. I was 
 perfectly calm and cool. Where was the thrill which I 
 had dimly pictured when my first lover should come to 
 me and say ' I love you ! ' I remembered one of the 
 girls at school who had become engaged during her 
 last term " It's breathlessly exciting ! " she had said, 
 " I feel as if I were on a precipice and might step off 
 the edge any minute." Well, I had no feeling of 
 being on a precipice; rather it seemed to me as if I 
 were standing on an endless plain, perfectly safe and 
 level. It was this feeling of safety which frightened 
 me. I wanted something more exciting, some little 
 thrill. 
 
 " Margaret, do you love me ? " 
 
 As he bent his head, I saw that the hair which I 
 used to ruffle When I was a child was growing thin. I 
 shivered. It was rather awful to find my old friend 
 suddenly changed into this strange new being. 
 
 " I don't know," I said again. I was angry with 
 myself for this stupid repetition, but it seemed so 
 cruel to say, " No I don't." It would hurt his feel- 
 ings and my own being so sensitive I hated to cause 
 him that pain I knew so well. 
 
 " I will be very good to you if you will marry me. 
 I will try and make you happy." 
 
 His voice was almost pleading. Instinctively I felt 
 that he ought to have demanded, not pleaded that 
 
 [25]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 it was a man's inalienable right to demand, that he 
 ought to have swept me away with his strength. Per- 
 haps it was that he was too old. The lover of which 
 I had dreamed was about my own age, vital, glowing 
 with youth. Outside was the springtime, when the 
 world and all in it was young, when youth mated with 
 youth, and young new things were born; here was 
 
 " I must think about it," I said, pushing his arms 
 away. Suddenly I felt afraid, stifled. 
 
 " Very well, but don't forget how much I love you. 
 When will you tell me to-morrow ? " he asked 
 eagerly. 
 
 I wanted to put off the burden of such a decision 
 until some far-off future time, but I could not exist 
 with it hanging over my head, so I assented and said 
 good-bye. 
 
 As I went into Mother's sitting-room, she looked 
 at me eagerly and when I did not speak, asked with 
 a repressed eagerness, 
 
 " Have you no news for me ? " 
 
 "No I " I flung out my hands; how could I 
 tell her what I felt. " I have to think it over, I have 
 promised to decide by to-morrow." 
 
 " It would be a good match for you," she said qui- 
 etly, " and you know that you would then always be 
 near Meadowmere." 
 
 For that moment I hated her. With a bitter smile, 
 I answered in a low voice, " You needn't have used 
 that bait to show me how eager you are to get rid of 
 me." 
 
 [26]
 
 Girlhood 
 
 " Please don't talk such nonsense," she said in that 
 cold even voice I dreaded. 
 
 I left her, covering the hurt with a proud look. If 
 only she had taken me in her arms, and loved me as 
 I felt other mothers would have done at such a time! 
 How badly I needed love and help and advice ! 
 
 During the night I tried to decide. Common sense, 
 liking, friendship, the thought of all the good I could 
 do for the villagers, the thought of being so near my 
 home, were all on the side of saying ' yes ', and per- 
 haps in the back of my mind was the knowledge of 
 what I should have to suffer from mother's disap- 
 proval, if I did say ' no.' For my own self-respect, I 
 tried not to think of this, but it was there, and though 
 I was capable of a sudden defiance under the stress of 
 emotion, I had to own, shamefacedly, that the conse- 
 quences of going against her wishes in this matter 
 would be almost too severe a test of my courage, 
 Against all these weighty arguments there was only 
 the instinct that love meant more than all of them. I 
 don't think I ever really did decide, so many times 
 did I fluctuate between * no ' and ' yes ', but when I 
 looked into my mirror the next night, I saw the affi- 
 anced bride of Sir Mark Haselton. 
 
 A great gleaming diamond was on my finger; it 
 had been his mother's engagement ring, it was the tra- 
 ditional betrothal ring for the bride of the eldest son. 
 If only it had not been so big and solid, if it had been 
 a tiny pearl, soft and white and glowing, like my 
 dreams of love! I have always hated diamonds. 
 
 07]
 
 Chapter Two 
 
 WHEN I awoke the next day I felt vaguely rest- 
 less. I wandered round the old house, and 
 finally stood before the portrait of my great-grand- 
 mother, which hung in the hall just opposite the big 
 open fireplace. Did she have the same feeling of un- 
 rest the day after she had promised to marry my 
 great-grandfather? The picture had been painted 
 when she was about fifteen, a little girl with brown, 
 wistful eyes and heavy hair just like mine. This 
 * darkness ' was a family trait, and Tom's brilliant 
 fairness stood out as a notable exception in genera- 
 tions of dark men. I wandered to another picture of 
 this ancestor, hung against the oak panelling in the 
 long dining-room. There she held in her arms her 
 first son, and the wistful-eyed little girl had changed 
 into a handsome contented-looking woman. Would I 
 so change ? 
 
 I heard my mother's voice and the need for trying 
 to realise what had happened away from her influence, 
 drove me out, through the orchard and into the 
 woods. My thoughts were whirling. Suddenly I 
 stopped with the realisation that unconsciously my 
 feet had taken the path to the Mere! What a thing 
 to do on this first morning of my engagement, and 
 [28]
 
 Girlhood 
 
 with a sense of guilt, I turned quickly, and ran up the 
 hill path, saying to myself, "Of course, of course, I 
 am happy ! " 
 
 As I gazed at the well-loved scene, doubts and rest- 
 lessness disappeared, and the memory of a day when I 
 had seen the sun rise over the distant hills came to me, 
 bringing a sense of peace. I had been reading a book 
 of travel in which the wonder of the sun rising over 
 the mountains in far-off America was described and 
 it had fired my imagination. Next morning I had 
 stolen out of the house at four o'clock and with a beat- 
 ing heart and a sense of tremendous adventure, raced 
 up the hill-side. It was quite dark and I could see 
 nothing of the sun, not even of the view. I was too 
 early, so I sat down on a rock to wait. Presently I 
 began to shiver in the keen morning air, my zest 
 slowly vanishing, and I was on the point of going 
 home when a sense of something about to happen held 
 me spellbound. 
 
 And slowly, almost imperceptibly, the day began 
 to dawn before my awe-struck eyes. Even more than 
 the soft, mournful beauty of the scene, a feeling of 
 hope dominated me; another day was coming, and as 
 I watched the surrounding darkness dissolving in the 
 widening light, something within me seemed to be 
 atune with it, opening and expanding into exaltation. 
 " After the darkness, the dawn ! " very dimly, youth- 
 fully, I caught a glimpse of the meaning of it, of the 
 ultimate triumph of light over the dark things of the 
 earth. . . . 
 
 [29]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 " I know I shall be happy," I whispered, as I came 
 down the hill, " I shall always be near my darling 
 home. I must go and tell Martha." 
 
 Martha had been Tom's nurse and then mine, and 
 though when I was a baby she had left to marry John, 
 the gardener, they still lived on the estate in a little 
 cottage near the western gate. Almost as soon as I 
 could talk I would demand to be taken to see Martha, 
 and later, never a day passed but a childish figure 
 would fly down the drive, softly open the door, walk 
 in on tip-toe and cry " Boo ! " And never did this 
 large-hearted woman fail to pretend the right amount 
 of fear, or gather me up in her arms and cry, " Why 
 bless me, it's Miss Margaret ! " 
 
 As I went up the little walk, with its prim border of 
 blue lobelia, Nancy, their only child who was just 
 eighteen months younger than I, came out of the door 
 and I stopped a moment to admire the picture she 
 made among the roses and clematis which clung to 
 the front of the little cottage, with its latticed win- 
 dows. Her plain black dress heightened the beauty 
 of her colouring soft pink cheeks, hair in which the 
 sunshine seemed to hover, eyes of a warm, deep hazel. 
 She carried a small suitcase and looked rather down- 
 cast. 
 
 "Why, Nancy, what's the matter and where are 
 you going?" 
 
 " I'm leaving for Barnston to-day instead of next 
 week. Mrs. Wilkes is shorthanded so she asked me 
 to come sooner and Mother is upset at me going." 
 [30]
 
 Girlhood 
 
 "Of course she is, but then you will only be a few 
 miles away and you'll come home for week ends, so it 
 won't be so bad." 
 
 Her eyes brightened. She looked around at the cot- 
 tage, its white curtains fluttering in the gentle breeze 
 and at the gaily flowered plots in the little garden. 
 " I'd never leave Sunnydale for good," she said softly. 
 
 " Of course not, neither would I. It's the only place 
 to live in." I took her hands. " Let's tell the Fates," 
 I said laughing. " Repeat it with me. It is here and 
 now decided by Nancy Brown and Margaret Miller 
 that they will individually and respectively never leave 
 their native and beloved Sunnydale ! " 
 
 " Never ! " she repeated smiling. 
 
 " Well, when you've learned to trim hats, I'll give 
 you the order for my trousseau," I said shyly. 
 
 " Your trousseau ! You're going to be married ? " 
 
 " Yes, to Sir Mark Haselton. I came to tell Mar- 
 tha." 
 
 " You must be very happy ; it must be fine to be 
 going to marry a man like that." 
 
 " Oh, you'll be the next one, I suppose," I answered, 
 loving the warm colour which spread into her cheeks 
 and the soft smile which came to her eyes. It was well 
 known that Sam Hill, Junior, a hard-working young 
 farmer, worshipped her, but she was far too young to 
 thing of engagements, her mother maintained. She 
 was so shy and pretty and sweet and her eyes were 
 full of dreams as she bade me good-bye. (Long 
 afterwards I remembered her look as she parted from
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 me, and our vow made in our youthful confidence!) 
 
 Martha was looking out of the latticed window as 
 I went in and on tiptoes I crept behind her and put 
 my hands over her eyes. 
 
 "Who is it?" she asked, playing our old childish 
 game. With her strong hands grasping the ends of 
 my ringers, smiling she began the usual formula, 
 " Why I wonder, can it be Miss " 
 
 She stopped. She had touched the large diamond 
 on the third ringer of my left hand. 
 
 With a swift turn she faced me and looked steadily 
 into my eyes. 
 
 "Is it Sir Mark Haselton?" 
 
 " Yes," I answered, a little fluttered by her direct 
 gaze, " How did you think of him? " 
 
 " I have eyes! Do you love him, you haven't been 
 driven into it ? " 
 
 " Why, no, Martha," I laughed, choosing to answer 
 the latter part of her question rather than the first, 
 " who would do the driving? " 
 
 " I know the mistress. You do love him ? " 
 
 " Yes, I think so that is, of course I do. He's 
 awfully good to me and I shall be able to do such a 
 lot for the people here, and then I shall always be 
 near dear old Meadowmere." 
 
 She looked at me keenly, then sighed. " So many 
 reasons! Well, I wish you the best of happiness." 
 
 ' Thank you, now tell me about Nancy." 
 
 " Oh, I think she will do well. I know Mrs. Wilkes 
 and she looks after her apprentices and treats them 
 
 [32]
 
 Girlhood 
 
 right. Barnston is not far away, so I shall see her 
 often. But it hurts to let her go, after having her by 
 my side for these sixteen years. It's awful to feel 
 your only baby is going out into the world, and you 
 can't protect her any more." 
 
 Into her strong face came a look of love which 
 brought an ache to my heart. If only my mother felt 
 like that about me ! 
 
 On my way back home, I came past the window of 
 Father's study, and hearing his voice, I was just going 
 to put my head in and say " Hello ! " when he stopped 
 speaking and my mother's reply, in her quiet distinct 
 tones, drew me up as if I had suddenly been turned to 
 stone. 
 
 " I hope you are satisfied now with what I have 
 done for ' your poor little Margaret ' as you call her. 
 Of course, if Sir Mark had not been like all the rest 
 of you men, caught by a pretty young face, I might not 
 have managed it, but you must admit that I have 
 ' greased the wheels ' pretty well." 
 
 " Did you drive her into it ? I won't have her made 
 unhappy, I shall " 
 
 'You can rest quite assured; of course I pointed 
 out to her what would be for her good, but she made 
 the decision herself." 
 
 " Poor little girl ! I hope she will be happy. If only 
 Tom were better ! " 
 
 " Tom is all right, it's just his high spirits, he'll 
 steady down later." 
 
 " I hope so, or more than ever I shall regret my " 
 
 [33]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 " Hush ! " she said, as my foot caught a dry twig. 
 
 I hurried away, for I could not bear that they 
 should know that I had heard. I was dumb with 
 shame. So that was the meaning of my mother's new 
 kindness ; it was to help to " catch " Sir Mark. How 
 hateful, how galling to my pride. But one thing she 
 could not take from me. I knew that even if he had 
 been " helped," he felt for me the love a man should 
 feel for the woman he is going to marry, the love 
 which I had dreamed I should feel for my lover. 
 
 Not till some time later when I had forgotten a lit- 
 tle of the shame and hurt of being so eagerly got rid 
 of, did the latter part of the conversation emerge 
 from my subconscious thoughts. Then I was puzzled. 
 What did my father mean by regretting? What 
 thing had he to regret or repent, he with his quiet, 
 orderly life among his books? 
 
 [341
 
 BOOK TWO: 
 
 THE COMING OF THE AMERICAN
 
 BOOK TWO : 
 THE COMING OF THE AMERICAN 
 
 Chapter One 
 
 FOR many days shame that I had been ' got rid of ' 
 so eagerly, alternated with curiosity about my 
 Father's regret. But I .was too much in awe of both 
 my parents to ask any questions about this mystery, 
 if indeed there were one; I could imagine mother's 
 cool cutting voice saying, 
 
 " My dear Margaret, don't let your imagination 
 run away with you. You are always having fancies." 
 
 Furthermore, curiosity was too painfully mixed up 
 with hurt and shame that my mother's new consider- 
 ation which I had hoped was the beginning of affec- 
 tion should have been simply due to a desire to help 
 me to ' catch ' Sir Mark. But his deference and the 
 new importance which came to me through being his 
 fiancee were effective in wiping out the sting of hurt 
 pride, and in the excitement of my new position I also 
 began to forget about a possible mystery. 
 
 Our engagement was made public at a large dinner 
 party and later there was a ball for the villagers at 
 the Hall. They had always assumed a sort of pro- 
 prietary interest in 'our Miss Margaret ' and now in 
 
 [37]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 the fact that the wealthy and influential Sir Mark 
 Haselton had chosen her as his wife they felt that an 
 honour had been done unto them. I received their 
 flowers and curtseys and simple good wishes with 
 flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes. In the glow of 
 that evening I saw a vision of future splendour which 
 dazzled and drove away doubts. Sir Mark was the 
 most important man in the county; after my sensitive 
 neglected childhood I felt a proud excitement in the 
 thought of attaining such a prominent position as I 
 should have as his wife. I saw myself presented at 
 Court, queening it over people to whom I had always 
 been an unimportant child. 
 
 It was only when the old vicar, in saying good-bye, 
 whispered solemnly, " I wish you all the happiness we 
 have had, my dear," that the exaltation gave place to 
 a feeling of seriousness. The beauty of his married 
 life was visible in every look and gesture and with a 
 momentary apprehension I thought " Can we be as 
 happy? " 
 
 On the whole, however, during the next three 
 months I was quite content. The new consideration 
 which I had noticed in my mother's attitude towards 
 me grew; at times she was almost kind, as if some of 
 the old resentment had gone. I suppose it was my 
 engagement which made the difference; she loved suc- 
 cess and in the light of future importance when I 
 should be Lady Haselton, I assumed a different aspect 
 in her eyes from that of the shy awkward girl whom 
 she didn't understand. Was it my engagement? Or 
 [38]
 
 The Coming of the American 
 
 was it something else which I could not comprehend? 
 I could not quite forget the curious look which had 
 crossed her face when she knew that I was engaged; 
 it had almost seemed like relief, as though something 
 she feared had gone. And then she had immediately 
 smiled and wished me much happiness. 
 
 With the coming of July my engagement took a 
 secondary place in my thoughts, for I began to count 
 the days to Tom's home-coming for the long vacation. 
 How I was looking forward to seeing him after more 
 than two years ! But when my big handsome brother 
 arrived and I waited anxiously for his careless kiss, I 
 was conscious of a change. He seemed so much older, 
 restless, so different from the sunny good-tempered 
 boy to whom I'd said good-bye before he went to Ox- 
 ford and I to Bournemouth. 
 
 His jaunty " Good wishes, old girl, hope you'll be 
 happy ! " did not ring true, and the next words jarred 
 " You'll be quite a useful sister, won't you? " 
 
 " What do you mean, Tom ? " 
 
 " Why, with all that wealth you'll always be able 
 to lend a fellow a fiver ! " His tone was jesting, but 
 underneath there seemed to be something else I felt 
 sure something was the matter. 
 
 How very much that something was I was soon to 
 know. He had only been home for a few days when 
 with a shamefaced air he came to me and asked me 
 if I could not get Sir Mark to lend him some 
 money. 
 
 " Tom ! " I said, aghast, " what has happened ? You 
 
 [39]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 know I couldn't ask Sir Mark, it would be horrible. 
 Why don't you get it from Father? " 
 
 " I can't get a penny from him," he said sulkily. " I 
 told him I was in debt, and he nearly had hysterics and 
 said he wouldn't give me another sixpence beyond my 
 allowance till I left Oxford. We had a row over the 
 same thing last time. The Mater did all she could, 
 but the Governor was stubborn. If you won't help 
 me with Sir Mark, well, I tell you frankly I'm in a 
 rather deep hole." 
 
 " But father gives you such a big allowance, how 
 ever could you spend it all ? " 
 
 " What does a girl know about how money goes ? 
 It's enough that it is spent, and much more besides." 
 
 " But can't mother help you ? " 
 
 " The bit she could squeeze up wouldn*t be any 
 use." 
 
 " Why, how much do you want ? " 
 
 " Oh, a couple of hundred will tide over the worst, 
 I dare say." 
 
 " Two hundred pounds ! " I cried out in amazement. 
 It seemed an enormous sum to me. " I couldn't ask 
 
 Sir Mark for all that money. I should be too ashamed, 
 j 
 
 " It would only be a loan," he broke in. " How- 
 ever, if you won't, I'm not going to beg," and he 
 walked off. 
 
 For three miserable days his restless unhappy face 
 was before me and I was always trying to find some 
 other way to help him. But there was none. I felt 
 [40]
 
 The Coming of the American 
 
 ashamed at doing nothing and yet indignant that he 
 should have thrust this burden on me. He never did 
 bear his own troubles. Finally a week later Sir Mark 
 said with an anxious air, 
 
 "What is the matter, Margaret? You have been 
 so worried the last few days." And then with des- 
 perate courage I burst out, 
 
 " It's Tom ! He wants some money badly, he's in 
 debt and Father won't let him have another penny, 
 and " I blushed with a shame I could not hide. 
 
 "Well, well, why didn't he come to me? I dare 
 say we can put Master Tom all right. I must give 
 him a lecture, too," he answered in an easy tone, with 
 a smile. 
 
 How kind he was ! My heart beat with a passionate 
 gratitude at his willingness to help and the tact which 
 had made my task so much easier than I had ex- 
 pected. 
 
 That afternoon Tom came to me with a happier 
 face. 
 
 "Thanks, Margie. Sir Mark's going to lend me 
 the two hundred. He's a real decent sort." 
 
 " It's awfully good of him ! " My admiration was 
 so much heightened by this kindness that I began to 
 look forward to the time when we should be married, 
 in six months to the very day. How much good I 
 could do; every time I went through the village I saw 
 myself as a future Lady Bountiful, laden with gifts 
 and sympathy, spreading happiness among these people 
 I loved. 
 
 [41]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 But in the meantime Tom's vacation to which I had 
 so much looked forward was turning out badly. He 
 was so critical of everyone and everything; in spite of 
 Sir Mark's generosity he did not hesitate to scoff at 
 him as being ' slow ' and old-fashioned. 
 
 " I hope you'll buck him up a bit, Marg," he said one 
 day, " for instance, I should think you'd persuade him 
 to buy a new car or two. That old bus of his is a dis- 
 grace." 
 
 " But he doesn't like the motor. He loves his horses 
 too much, and so do I. The car's only a con- 
 venience." 
 
 " It'll soon be a relic. Heavens, he might be in the 
 eighties instead of 1912 that's all." 
 
 Though I resented this criticism of Sir Mark I did 
 not answer, because we had enough unpleasantness at 
 home without my adding to it. For Father was coldly 
 angry with Tom and of cours Mother was * at dag- 
 gers drawn ' with Father because he wouldn't help 
 her darling. I don't think Tom had told her of Sir 
 Mark's help though to be sure it was not likely that 
 she would mention her knowledge to me. 
 
 As the days went by I began to have an uneasy feel- 
 ing that Tom was still in financial difficulties. He 
 generally seemed to be hanging around when the post- 
 man came, and one morning I saw his face go white 
 as he stuffed a letter into his pocket. I think everyone 
 except perhaps Mother, was glad when he began to 
 go for long rides by himself, a habit which grew, for 
 as he once said to me, " There's not much fun for a 
 
 [42]
 
 The Coming of the American 
 
 fellow in such an atmosphere of ' You ought to be 
 ashamed of yourself, sir ' ! " 
 
 One day as I was coming back from a tennis party 
 to which Tom had been invited but to which he 
 wouldn't go " I don't enjoy talking to a lot of young, 
 giggling girls," he had said in a lordly voice I saw 
 him returning from his ride. His face was flushed 
 and his eyes sparkling. He looked very handsome and 
 reckless and somewhat defiant no wonder people 
 loved him. He brought a thrill of lawlessness, of the 
 outside world into my quiet life, and in a sudden de- 
 sire for his confidence and love, I said as I patted his 
 horse, 
 
 " Hello, Tom ! Where have you been to this time? " 
 
 " Oh, been on a ride to Barnston," he answered care- 
 lessly. 
 
 " Why, that's where Nancy is learning millinery," I 
 exclaimed, " you didn't'happen to see her, I suppose?" 
 
 "Why in the name of goodness should I happen 
 to see her!" he sneered in an irritable voice, and I 
 sighed as I thought how my best efforts went astray. 
 
 I think it was a relief to everyone, including Tom 
 himself when, early in September, he left Meadow- 
 mere on his way back to Oxford, via Melling where 
 he was going to stay with some friends till term 
 began. His moodiness and surliness, so different from 
 the old sunny good nature, had been like a storm 
 hanging over our heads; we never knew when the 
 thunder and lightning would burst upon us, and a 
 thing which seemed to please him one day, irritated 
 
 [43]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 him the next. With his going Mother gradually 
 resumed her ordinary manner towards Father at 
 least outwardly and Meadowmere settled into its 
 usual peaceful ways, to my great relief, for the pre- 
 vious weeks of tension had made me nervous and 
 miserable. I liked things to run smoothly and peace- 
 fully. 
 
 Sir Mark's deference made me very happy. 
 After always having the feeling of being unloved and 
 in the way, it was nice to be suddenly treated as a 
 vastly important person whose wishes and whims were 
 the chief interest in another's life. We were such 
 good friends and shared so many interests. His love 
 was so evident in his thought fulness for me and in his 
 desire to give me pleasure, and he was always so tact- 
 ful, always seemed to have such an instinct for doing 
 exactly the right thing, that my heart responded with 
 increasing admiration and gratitude. 
 
 If there had been no other side to me how entirely 
 happy I should have been! But there was another 
 ' me', there was that part of me which had been atune 
 to the touch of springtime in the air, which had 
 thrilled to the sense of desirability in the mating of 
 youth with youth, when young new things were born. 
 Sometimes there would come over me a terrible feel- 
 ing of despair that I was missing something some 
 big vital emotion which I ought to know. Sometimes 
 at night, when looking into my mirror, I stood with 
 thick dark hair flowing around me, my white figure 
 standing out from the darkness of the panelled walls, 
 
 [44]
 
 The Coming of the American 
 
 my thoughts would go dreaming on, and my heart 
 would begin to beat. I would listen for a sound in 
 the rustling of the trees almost I could hear a low 
 voice calling me, a voice of youth, buoyant and vital 
 almost I could see a youthful figure coming out of the 
 silence of the night to my window and with or without 
 my will carrying me away into the world. And with 
 a thrill, half fear, half delicious joy, I would imagine 
 what marriage to such a one might mean. . . . 
 Then suddenly into my wild dreams would step the 
 figure of Sir Mark, my future husband. And down 
 would topple the weave of my imagination and calm 
 safe reality still my beating heart. It was with a feel- 
 ing of shame that I buried such thoughts deep 
 down beneath the surface of my quiet life; they 
 were so disturbing that I suspected they must be 
 wrong. 
 
 About a week after Tom had gone back to Oxford, 
 I saw Sir Mark coming across the path with a big flat 
 portfolio under his arm. To my laughing inquiry of 
 " What is that? " he answered, 
 
 " Hush, it's a secret, I want to show you some- 
 thing." 
 
 We went into the library and with the air of a con- 
 spirator he began untying knots. " Shut your eyes 
 for a minute ! Now ! " I looked down on a vast 
 array of plans spread on the table. 
 
 "Cottages?" I asked. 
 
 " Yes, I'm going to build six, and I want your ad- 
 vice on the housekeeping part. I want the kitchen and 
 
 [45]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 all that appeals to the woman to be as perfect as pos- 
 sible." 
 
 " How jolly, you're going to make them model cot- 
 tages, then?" 
 
 "Yes," and we went over the plans, absorbed in 
 the questions of light and heat and cooking arrange- 
 ments. 
 
 Suddenly in a moment's pause, he raised his head, 
 and taking my hands across the table, said solemnly, 
 " Are they just what you would like to build ? " 
 
 " Yes, but why" 
 
 " Because I want them to be my wedding present to 
 you." 
 
 "Mark, you really mean that! Oh, how good of 
 you and they are to be my very own ? " 
 
 " Absolutely, to run as you please." 
 
 I was full of very deep gratitude. How splendid he 
 was! Nothing could have pleased me so well. I 
 thought of six of my favourite villagers to whom I 
 could let these model little homes, and how delighted 
 the women would be with the extra conveniences 
 which would save them so much time and labour. This 
 further proof of his thought for what would please 
 me drew a sudden emotion from my heart. I leaned 
 forward and kissed him with more feeling than I had 
 ever had before. 
 
 Footsteps sounded across the stone hall, and I 
 drew back quickly, as Sir Mark's man came to the 
 door with a letter. " As it's marked ' urgent and im- 
 portant,' I thought you ought to have it at once, sir." 
 [46]
 
 The Coining of the American 
 
 " Quite right, James. You need not wait, I will 
 come over if an immediate reply is necessary." 
 
 " It's from Bob," he said. " Will you pardon me? " 
 and as I nodded he cut the envelope. 
 
 Robert, his younger brother, lived in London and 
 was a partner in a big engineering firm. I saw annoy- 
 ance flit over Mark's face as he hastily read the scrawl. 
 " It's too bad of Bob ! Here he is sending me a vis- 
 itor, an American! Whatever shall I do with him? 
 It is so quiet here and I am sure he will be bored to 
 death. You'll have to help me amuse him, Margaret ! " 
 
 "Who is he?" 
 
 " His name is Boynton. He's the son of their rep- 
 resentative in America, and has been staying with Bob 
 in London. He is travelling for a time before going 
 back home to help his father. Bob says he is awfully 
 clever and has just come through college with flying 
 colours. Says he wants him to come to Sunnydale so 
 that he may see a bit of real English country life 
 that's like Bob. He probably said to him * Tell you 
 what I'll do, my brother has a place in the country, the 
 very thing, I'll get him to ask you down and he can 
 show you round/ The poor young man wouldn't be 
 given a chance to say ' yes ' or ' no,' it would all be 
 arranged in a minute." He looked at the letter again. 
 " Good heavens, he's coming to-morrow ! " 
 
 " I'll help you to amuse him, and one thing, if he's 
 too bored, he can always get a telegram calling him 
 back to London," I laughed. 
 
 " I was in America for a few weeks once, and they 
 
 [471
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 seemed to be always doing things He'll probably 
 want to rush around, it makes me breathless to think 
 of it. I must get some people together for dinner to 
 meet him." Then in a lower voice, " Now our walks 
 and talks will be interrupted, Margaret." 
 
 " It will only be for a short time," I answered 
 softly. 
 
 A stranger was such an unusual occurrence at 
 Sunnydale that I felt a flutter of excitement as I 
 dressed for the small dinner party the next evening. 
 By good luck I had a dress which I had only worn 
 twice; it was a very soft pale pink, the pink which 
 added colour to my cheeks. " He's young and clever, 
 that much I know. Is he tall and thin, or short and 
 fat ? Are his eyes brown or blue ? " Then I laughed 
 at myself. "Why, what does it matter to you? An 
 engaged young woman shouldn't be wondering about 
 the colour of a strange man's eyes ! " 
 
 The vicar and his wife were there, the doctor 
 and his wife, Father and Mother and I. I was talking 
 to Lady Haselton in the small drawing-room, when I 
 heard Sir Mark at the head of the stairs saying, " We 
 are not a large party to-night, as I thought you might 
 feel a little tired after your journey." And a voice 
 replied, 
 
 " That's mighty thoughtful of you, but I'm not at 
 all tired thanks, I scarcely know what it feels like." 
 
 It was a boyish voice, low pitched, with some tone 
 which was new to me. Through the open doorway I 
 caught sight of a tall slim figure coming down the 
 
 [48]
 
 The Coming of the American 
 
 stairs and in a moment I knew that the tone of the 
 voice matched the poise of the man in confidence and 
 efficiency. It was curious how in that momentary 
 glimpse I had so strong an impression of a calm con- 
 sciousness of doing the work in hand well. Although 
 at the moment this only happened to be coming down 
 stairs, there was purpose and concentration in the do- 
 ing of it; the figure seemed to poise on each step, vital 
 and vivid, and then descend with a firm tread, ready 
 for what was at the bottom, prepared for anything 
 which might happen. Yet there was absolutely no sug- 
 gestion of pose, it seemed quite a natural manner. 
 
 I had been so fascinated by watching his entrance 
 that I started when Sir Mark's voice at my elbow 
 said, 
 
 " Margaret, this is Mr. Boynton Miss Margaret 
 Miller." 
 
 I looked up into pale grey eyes, set rather deep in 
 a pale face, in marked contrast to Sir Mark's healthy 
 tan. His fair hair and fair eyebrows gave him a 
 colourless appearance, and I was disappointed for a 
 moment that the strength and purpose of that figure 
 coming down the stairs did not seem to be apparent 
 in the face. But only for a moment; as we uttered 
 the few words of polite conversation before dinner 
 was announced, I was conscious of a quick searching 
 glance, a confident laugh which showed strong white 
 teeth, an air of being very sure of himself, very con- 
 fident. 
 
 During dinner there was an animated discussion 
 
 [49]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 on social problems, housing conditions, and the differ- 
 ence in living in the two countries. Sir Mark and 
 Father were, of course, very much interested in such 
 questions, and, in spite of his youth, Mr. Boynton 
 seemed to have studied the problems and to have 
 something useful and intelligent to say. Moreover his 
 opinions were so confidently delivered that they gave 
 me the impression that he must be older than he 
 looked, for Tom, for instance, with all his self-confi- 
 dence, would scarcely have dared such a positive posi- 
 tion with such old ' hands ' as Father and Sir Mark. 
 Yet when I considered that he had just left college, 
 I knew that he could not be more than twenty-three 
 or four. 
 
 I went home with a very vivid impression of his 
 eager force fulness, combined with a sense of youth 
 and buoyancy and vitality. As I undressed, scraps of 
 conversation in that low eager voice kept fluttering 
 through my mind. Youth, vitality, buoyancy ! Three 
 of the things I had dreamed of in my lover! Then 
 impatiently I shrugged my shoulders, and throwing 
 the pink dress on a chair, I thought with a feeling of 
 flatness "Those silly youthful dreams are over. 
 Now I'm engaged, I'm going to be the important and 
 wealthy Lady Haselton." 
 
 [SO]
 
 Chapter Two 
 
 IT had become a custom that I should accompany 
 Sir Mark when he went for his morning tramp 
 over some part of his immediate estate, a custom 
 which I enjoyed immensely, for he discussed with me 
 his plans for the welfare of his tenants and it 
 increased the delightful sense of my future impor- 
 tance. When I went out to meet him the morning 
 after the dinner, there was another figure on the lawn 
 and I had a curious impression of the entrance of a 
 strange changing newness into our quiet midst. 
 
 As Sir Mark was talking to his steward, Mr. 
 Boynton and I stood for a moment looking over the 
 parkland which separated the two houses. 
 
 "It's beautiful, isn't it?" I asked. 
 
 " Very." 
 
 At his tone, I looked round quickly. " You don't 
 like it?" I said in astonishment. 
 
 " Oh yes, I do, it is beautiful, as you say, but " 
 
 He hesitated with a humorous twinkle in his eyes. 
 
 "But?" 
 
 " I shouldn't like to live here." 
 
 "Why?" I asked amazed. 
 
 " It's too quiet." 
 
 " But that's part of its beauty, it's so restful." 
 
 "Restful!" he broke out impatiently. "Who 
 
 [51]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 wants rest? I want work, expansion, life not stag- 
 nation. No sir, peace doesn't appeal to Eddie B." 
 
 I winced. His words seemed an affront to the 
 dignity and beauty of the scene before us, and 
 ' Eddie B.' how that grated ! 
 
 "What's the matter don't you like my name?" 
 I flushed a bright crimson, so surprised at the quick- 
 ness with which he had read my thought that I could 
 not make any reply. 
 
 "If it's any consolation to you," he went on, " I 
 will tell you that it's really Edward, but I hardly 
 remember hearing that since my christening. Two 
 weeks later someone called me Eddie, and the deed 
 was done. I have a fine memory, haven't I ? " 
 
 His eyes were full of laughter. Was he laughing 
 at me? I was relieved when next minute Sir Mark 
 joined us, and I contrasted the dignity of his name 
 and manner with those of the newcomer. 
 
 We walked on through the village, much of which 
 had belonged to Father's family for generations, for 
 though his estate was not strictly entailed like that of 
 the Haseltons, and cou!4 have been willed out of the 
 family, of course no Miller would have thought of 
 such a thing, we were all too proud of the connection. 
 
 We passed the cottage of Mrs. Hall, who was 
 doubled up with rheumatism, but who called out a 
 quavering " Marning Squi-er " as we went by, and I 
 explained to Mr. Boynton that the ' Squi-er ' was only 
 a courtesy title, but it had been given to so many 
 Squire Millers that no one knew who was the first to 
 
 [52]
 
 The Coming of the American 
 
 receive it and it had become just as real to Sunnydale 
 as though ratified by all sorts of letters-patent. 
 
 As we passed the smithy, great John raised a finger 
 to his wet forehead, roaring his greeting so that it 
 might be heard above the clatter, and Mr. Boynton 
 stopped, with an involuntary exclamation of admira- 
 tion at his splendid form " What a magnificent 
 man!" 
 
 " Yes, isn't he ? " I answered, " and his brain is as 
 fine as his body. He's our * show man '. He was so 
 clever at the village school and so fond of books 
 
 that " I hesitated, glancing at Mark, who was 
 
 always averse to having any of his good deeds known 
 " that some one wanted to send him to a good school 
 and let him try for a scholarship." 
 
 "Why didn't he go?" 
 
 " His father wouldn't let him. Said he was the only 
 son and the smithy had to be carried on, and he 
 himself was getting stifT in his joints." 
 
 " What a darned shame ! " said Mr. Boynton. 
 
 " Oh, I can understand the old man's feelings," Sir 
 Mark answered quietly, " I think in the back of his 
 mind was also the fear of being beholden to any one. 
 He's a type of sturdy independence which sheers 
 away in fear from the mere suspicion of ' charity.' ' 
 
 " But he might have regarded the money as a 
 loan." 
 
 " If you knew the hardship of these people's lives 
 you would realise that a loan becomes a gigantic bur- 
 den; it is something to be feared. They live from day 
 
 [53]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 to day with just enough to keep things going. Be- 
 sides, there would have been no smithy!" Sir Mark 
 smiled humorously. 
 
 " No smithy ! " ejaculated Mr. Boynton scornfully, 
 " what a loss in proportion to an education." 
 
 " But you must remember that his family has been 
 here probably as long as ours. In his eyes a Sunny- 
 dale without a smithy run by his family would be a 
 great loss to the community, a great failure of tradi- 
 tion." 
 
 " Hang tradition ! " said Mr. Boynton. " Too much 
 progress is tied up because of tradition. Why should 
 I do things in the way my grandfather did? Why 
 shouldn't I find out the way which suits me best and 
 the time I live in ? " With a gesture he flung the past 
 away from him. "I have the right to live my life in 
 the way which will develop me best." 
 
 I looked at Sir Mark, hoping he would rise up and 
 crush this new doctrine. My conservative ancestors, 
 my love of old things, the traditions of my family 
 were all against this new creed in which the individual 
 was all-powerful; of what use were all the sacrifices 
 made for ' The Family ' and its honour, if such a creed 
 were right? But Sir Mark only smiled, a wise tol- 
 erant smile which somehow irritated me. For it made 
 him seem so old compared with Mr. Boynton's eager 
 views and with my own feelings of resentment at this 
 attempt to sweep away my ideals. Why wasn't he 
 more intolerant ? 
 
 " Think of the waste of brains and power," the 
 
 [54]
 
 The Coming of the American 
 
 latter went on, seemingly carried away by the feelings 
 which this doggedness on the old smith's part had 
 aroused " Why, if he'd been in America, his father 
 would have jumped at such a chance, at any rate the 
 son himself would have seized it. There, a man like 
 this would have risen, achieved, done something big 
 why he might have gotten the leadership of the coun- 
 try into his own hands ! " 
 
 " Perhaps old John is rather an exception," I half 
 apologised, his ardour almost convincing me of the 
 old man's folly. 
 
 " I should hope he is, he ought to be electrocuted 
 for missing such a chance for his son." 
 
 " But the son is happy and healthy and has a jolly 
 wife and two fine children, though he's only twenty- 
 two," I said, defending our village " What more 
 could he have? " 
 
 " Power, wealth, achievement! Oh, it's awful, such 
 a waste ! " 
 
 "Would he have been any happier?" I asked 
 softly. 
 
 " What does that matter? It's the power to do, to 
 achieve, to leave your mark on the world, to make a 
 name for your son " 
 
 " Who would inherit his father's traditions," I 
 interrupted shyly. 
 
 He laughed. It was such a boyish, honest, care-free 
 laugh and sounded so young. I found out later that he 
 was always ready to laugh, even if it were against 
 himself. One moment he would be driving his hard 
 
 [55]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 logical arguments with egotistical power, and the next 
 he would laugh and his arguments would be buried 
 fathoms deep under his youth and buoyancy and nat- 
 ural lovableness. 
 
 In his argumentative egotistical moods his attitude 
 towards our customs and habits piqued me. When- 
 ever we met some discussion seemed to crop up and 
 he would show me the splendours and glories of the 
 restless striving world outside, as he tried to convince 
 me that his was the more desirable life. Every day 
 I was more eager to show him why I loved the peace 
 and beauty of our country life; I wanted to make him 
 admit that it was desirable, and when he went back to 
 his existence of strife and hurry, I wanted him to 
 remember this visit as being different from anything 
 else he would ever have. 
 
 So it was generally I who suggested the beauty spots 
 to which we might drive, or the picnics and tennis 
 parties which we might arrange, in order that he 
 might be amused and interested. 
 
 " Hello ! " I would 'phone, when I happened to be 
 going to read to old Mrs. Bell, or taking some nour- 
 ishing food to some one who was sick " Do you 
 want to come and see how we-in-the-country work?" 
 
 " Work ! " he would scoff, " you don't call this work. 
 You know you enjoy being a good Samaritan." 
 
 And when we came to the farm of Sam Hill, where 
 hard-working Sam Junior was apparently expressing 
 his hope of a future with Nancy by means of the 
 energy of his digging, Mr. Boynton glanced at me with 
 
 [56]
 
 The Coming of the American 
 
 mischief in his eyes, exclaiming, " Now that's the first 
 man I've seen who seems to be real busy ! " 
 
 " It's only because you can't read our signs. Your 
 language is different," I retorted. 
 
 And presently he began to realise that Sir Mark's 
 apparently leisurely life contained an immense amount 
 of accomplished duty and that his courtesy to his guest 
 was interfering with meetings, and Justice of the 
 Peace work, and the management of his estate which 
 was scattered over many villages; and this realisation 
 brought forth the tactful suggestion 
 
 " I wish you'd let me poke about on my own, Sir 
 Mark. You must have lots to do, and I'd enjoy it. 
 I'm interested in your villagers, they are a new -people 
 to me." 
 
 When he first began to " poke about," I think the 
 people looked upon him as a sort of curiosity. His silk 
 socks and shirts, his immaculate suits and thin shoes 
 amused them. They were in such contrast to Sir 
 Mark's suit of Harris tweed, which had certainly not 
 been born yesterday, and the thick boots in which he 
 tramped around. But gradually Mr. Boynton made 
 friends with the people; he bore down their natural 
 reserve with strangers in the same easy way as he soon 
 made us feel that he was part of our life in Sunnydale, 
 and no longer a visitor. His sympathetic manner and 
 his intelligent talk about all social conditions, and 
 perhaps more than anything his love for the village 
 children soon opened the hearts of Sunnydale. 
 
 His opinions about social conditions were, as he 
 
 [57]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 laughingly admitted to me, entirely collegiate and 
 theoretical as he had had no practical experience, but 
 that did not prevent him from being just as sure about 
 his points as though he had been an old man who had 
 spent his life amid the problems of the welfare of 
 people whose wages are insufficient for the means of 
 living. 
 
 There was, however, nothing theoretical about his 
 love of children. I found him one day, sitting in the 
 cottage of the smith, nursing the younger child and 
 chatting to the wife, entirely at his ease. Her face 
 was a study; delight in the conversation of this " pleas- 
 ant spoken young gentleman," as she described him to 
 me later, mingled with the bothersome feeling that it 
 was not proper to be on such terms of familiarity 
 with a guest at the Hall. But the baby had no such 
 qualms. It was frankly delighted with him and the 
 sister stood by, finger in mouth, watching him shyly, 
 but with a grin, as he tossed the child and talked to 
 the mother. I smiled as I thought how different he 
 looked from when he was propounding one of his 
 theories; unconsciously I thought of Sir Mark in the 
 same position, and with a little feeling of disappoint- 
 ment I came to the conclusion that it was impossible 
 even to imagine it. 
 
 Mr. Boynton apparently enjoyed his * poking about ' 
 the village. " I have been talking to old John," he said 
 one day. " He was sitting in the sun, which person- 
 ally I thought just about hot enough to make my 
 middle-weight top coat comfortable, though he seemed 
 
 [58]
 
 The Coming of the American 
 
 to think it dandy and warm ! " He broke off long 
 enough to catch my eyes with a mischievous gleam, 
 for he had often teased me that I did not know what 
 sunshine was before he went on, " He's a fine old 
 chap with some amazing ideas. When I came to him 
 he got up and touched his cap and I was half expect- 
 ing a meek ' Yes, sir/ * No, sir ' to any remarks I 
 might make " 
 
 I laughed out in open enjoyment of Mr. Boynton's 
 expression. 
 
 " Yes, you're right, he certainly told me where I 
 got off. He's a puzzle to me." 
 
 " Perhaps I can explain him," said Sir Mark. 
 "You're my guest; his respect was given to an old 
 institution which I happen to represent. As man to 
 man he and I are equal, his opinion as good as mine 
 a great deal better in many cases as he doesn't 
 trouble to hide! I sometimes wonder what will hap- 
 pen if we as a nation grow out of our fixed habit of 
 reverence for old institutions, old traditions. The 
 change has begun, the modern mind grows away from 
 reverence. I wonder if we shall be the better or the 
 worse for it." 
 
 " Well, no one can accuse us of being overstocked 
 in that commodity, yet we seem to thrive mighty well 
 without it," said Mr. Boynton. 
 
 " That's different, but if you take away something 
 which has always been there, you must put something 
 in its place, or there's chaos. What are we going to 
 put, I wonder ? " 
 
 [59]
 
 Chapter Three 
 
 THE early morning tramp for the three of us 
 became a daily custom. Sometimes I would be 
 waiting for them at the stile which made a track 
 through the fence between Meadowmere and the Hall 
 sometimes I would hear the gay "Halloo! " before 
 I had started, and an eager figure and a sedate one 
 would be waiting for me on the lawn, greeting me 
 with a " Beaten you this morning, Miss Lazybones ! " 
 And in the cool bright September air we would walk 
 and talk till it was time for luncheon, Sir Mark stop- 
 ping every now and then to attend to some detail of 
 management, Mr. Boynton and I discussing the 
 Universe; when with glowing cheeks we would come 
 back either to the Hall or to Meadowmere, and 
 astonish everyone with our enormous appetites. The 
 American's pale grey eyes glowed in a face which soon 
 was as tanned as Sir Mark's. 
 
 " Splendid air this must be," he said one day, " I 
 feel so fine and full of energy." 
 
 " So you do admit it has some advantages," I 
 
 retorted laughing, and then, of course, there we were 
 
 in one of our arguments again. I turned to Sir Mark 
 
 for confirmation; and quite suddenly it occurred to 
 
 [60]
 
 The Coming of the American 
 
 me that during so many of our heated discussions, he 
 was only an onlooker an onlooker with a benign air 
 of wisdom, who could afford to smile at the eager 
 egotistical point of view of Youth. I wished he 
 would not just look on; it made him seem so old in 
 comparison with Mr. Boynton, and after all he was 
 not so old ! I wished he would not stand there like 
 a figure of old Father Time watching the gambols of 
 two silly young animals! Gradually I found myself 
 criticising his attitude towards Life; why couldn't he 
 be more energetic, more confident, more like the eager 
 Mr. Boynton? Then immediately I would check my- 
 self with a feeling of disloyalty, and think how beastly 
 I was to compare him with anyone. 
 
 After the morning tramp, there was a tennis party, 
 or a picnic, or a drive, or a gallop over soft, springy 
 turf; and in the evenings, comfortably tired after our 
 day in the open air, we would gather round the huge 
 glowing fire which was very welcome in the cool 
 autumn evenings, or get up an impromptu dance in 
 the great hall of Sir Mark's house, or a game of 
 cards with the vicar, or the doctor. Being a guest 
 of Sir Mark's, Mr. Boynton was of course welcomed 
 into every house, but it was his own personality which 
 so soon made him at home in the heart of our quiet 
 happy life. 
 
 He had been with us a week before there was a 
 chance to take him to visit Martha, and as Sir Mark 
 was inspecting a fence which needed repairing, I 
 called out, " We are just going down to Martha's 
 
 [61]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 cottage. Will you call for us there ? " before waving 
 good-bye and disappearing through the trees. 
 
 " He's not even looking at you," said Mr. Boynton. 
 " He's just buried in his fence." 
 
 " How could he be buried in a fence ? " I laughed. 
 
 " Gee, aren't you literal ? I suppose you'd like me to 
 say, ' Sir Mark did not perceive you, Miss Miller. He 
 is entirely interested in the business of inspecting the 
 fence.' " 
 
 For a second an odd pang ran through me as I 
 thought that was almost how Mark would have ex- 
 pressed it, then my mood of gaiety and light-hearted- 
 ness triumphed again; nothing could dampen it for 
 long, not even the rain which was pouring down. 
 My eyes travelled to Mr. Boynton's thick boots which 
 he had bought at Barnston, to the old raincoat Sir 
 Mark had lent him, to the hat pulled low down to 
 keep the water from his neck, to the deep tan of his 
 face which made his eyes look like pale gleaming 
 stones, and again I laughed in peals of sheer enjoy- 
 ment. 
 
 "What's amusing you?" 
 
 " You ! No one would recognise the immaculate 
 Mr. Boynton in this disreputable figure which is walk- 
 ing by my side." 
 
 " I'm mighty comfortable, thank you, ma'am," he 
 said with a grin. 
 
 Martha was at the washtub when we arrived. 
 "Hush!" I whispered, "don't make a sound and 
 watch ! " Creeping up on tiptoe I put my hands over 
 [62]
 
 The Coming of the American 
 
 her eyes. Her strong lips parted in a smile of amuse- 
 ment. " Why, it's Miss Margaret ! " she said, and with 
 her hands wet from the white suds she caught my 
 fingers. I gave a little shriek of feigned dismay and 
 Mr. Boynton's laugh rang out " Now you're paid 
 back " he said. 
 
 I saw a surprised look on Martha's face, and drag- 
 ging my hands away she turned quickly and looked 
 from one laughing face to the other. 
 
 " Martha, this is Mr. Boynton, I've told him all 
 about you, he's a friend of Sir Mark's." 
 
 " Oh yes," she answered in her grave dignified 
 voice, " a friend of Sir Mark Haselton's is very wel- 
 come. Won't you sit down?" But to my ears so 
 well accustomed to the shades of her voice, there was 
 something confusing which made me wish I had left 
 the childish game alone. As Sir Mark came in I saw 
 once more that rapid searching glance pass from one to 
 another; what was she thinking? Was it the thought 
 that involuntarily floated through my mind, that I 
 wouldn't have played that joke if Sir Mark had been 
 there instead of the younger man ? 
 
 [63]
 
 Chapter Four 
 
 THERE came a day when Sir Mark's duties called 
 him away from Sunnydale and as Lady Haselton 
 was getting rather too old to entertain a visitor, 
 Mother, with marked graciousness, asked Mr. Boyn- 
 ton to be our guest. After we had waved an early 
 good-bye to Sir Mark who was going to a meeting of 
 the Governors of the hospital the other side of Barn- 
 ston, I was conscious of an unusual amount of delight 
 in being alive, which made me turn gaily to Mr. 
 Boynton and suggest that he might like to beat me at 
 a set of tennis. 
 
 " Aw no, let's go to the hill-top instead ! " 
 
 " You like that, too," I said eagerly, " I love it, 
 it's my favourite place, that and the Mere, but I only 
 go to the Mere when I'm unhappy." I smiled as I 
 said it; the sun was shining, the green of the trees 
 fading into their autumn tints, and there was just a 
 hint of frost in the bracing air. My eyes were danc- 
 ing, my body full of life; on this perfect day it seemed 
 absurd that I could ever have been unhappy. 
 
 " But why are you unhappy ? " 
 
 " I'm not now, but I used to be lonely and you'll 
 laugh at me but no one seemed to want me, that is, 
 no one who really counted ! " 
 
 [64]
 
 The Coming of the American 
 
 " I can't understand that ! " His face was quite 
 grave, but was there a twinkle in his eyes ? 
 
 "Is that meant for a compliment?" I asked yes, 
 his eyes were twinkling. 
 
 " I wondered if you'd get it," he answered and 
 we laughed together, our voices ringing out in youth 
 and happiness and camaraderie. We were resting on a 
 fallen log, halfway up the hill-side, and unconsciously 
 as our amusement died away, some instinctive sym- 
 pathy which I sensed in him made me tell him about 
 Tom, and my mother, and my love for Meadowmere. 
 His sympathetic, " Poor kid ! " brought the colour to 
 my cheeks, as I realised that I had been pouring 
 forth my intimate affairs to one who was almost a 
 stranger; even to Sir Mark I had never said so much, 
 and with the consciousness, my voice changed and in a 
 colder, haughtier tone, I said, 
 
 "I am sorry I have burdened you with so much 
 family gossip, you are too sympathetic." 
 
 He laughed again, but somehow I did not mind, for 
 it was soft and low " How different you are ! " he 
 said. 
 
 "Different, from what?" 
 
 " From any girl I have ever known. One moment 
 there is a young and eager child, and in another a cold 
 and haughty little woman has taken her place. You 
 
 are always changing, you are " He hesitated, the 
 
 usual confident look shadowed by one which was soft 
 and and almost Overwhelmed by a sudden shy- 
 ness I jumped up saying lightly, 
 
 [65]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 " I'll race you to the hill-top ! " 
 
 Of course he got there first. When I reached the 
 top he was standing, flushed with the exertion, his 
 face turned eagerly to the far-distant hills. He looked 
 as though he were waiting for something, his youth 
 seemed poised for battle. 
 
 " You look as though the world was before you and 
 you were waiting to conquer it," I said in a low 
 voice. 
 
 "That's how I feel. I want to get at grips with 
 things. I want to do deeds, to carve my way, to 
 make a name for myself!" His face glowed, he 
 looked very capable of keeping his word. " That's 
 why I couldn't live here. It seems to me you don't 
 know what Life is in this little village, you sleep 
 peacefully through all your days. It is beautiful, but 
 outside there is the world, with a niche for every man 
 if he's strong enough to carve it. Don't you think 
 there is glory in the thought of being strong enough? " 
 
 How was it that this time his words, slurring the 
 peace of my home, brought no resentment? Was it 
 that unconsciously for days I had been realising 
 something of a broader life, fuller, more vigorous; 
 not more happy, but more in the limelight, less shel- 
 tered from the world. Hitherto I had thought that 
 the only life worth living was that we lived at Sunny- 
 dale ; I still thought so and yet ! Was it that some of 
 the vitality and restlessness of his outlook had been 
 spreading its tentacles towards me? 
 
 " But supposing " I said, " one's niche was here at 
 [66]
 
 The Coining of the American 
 
 Sunnydale? Supposing one's honour were bound up 
 in staying in it ? " 
 
 "I couldn't do it!" he answered almost violently, 
 " perhaps if I had always lived here, I might feel 
 differently, but feeling as I do, I should have to break 
 away." 
 
 "Even if you broke your word?" I whispered. 
 
 " Yes, even at that cost. One must grow. Sup- 
 posing I had promised something which later experi- 
 ence told me I could not perform without stunting the 
 s'if which had grown in the meantime, the sensible 
 thing would be to go to the other fellow and say, 
 ' Listen, old man. I want you to release me from my 
 promise ! ' and explain why. If he were sensible too, 
 he would say ' All right, go ahead ! ' ' 
 
 " Suppose he were not sensible ? " 
 
 "Then I'd tell him to go to I'd tell him I was 
 through anyway." 
 
 " But supposing it were a duty you owed, say to 
 your father to stay? " 
 
 " I can't see that it would be a duty. He had a 
 right to his choice, I should have a right to mine. 
 If by staying I were forced to be artificial, if it would 
 tie me to something which would stunt me, better a 
 sudden hurt, a sudden break, than the life-long feeling 
 of injury and resentment I should otherwise have." 
 
 Words were hammering at the back of my brain; 
 some power forced them from my lips " Supposing " 
 I whispered, not daring to look up, " you had prom- 
 ised to marry a girl and you found out afterwards 
 
 [6 7 ]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 that you did not love her well enough, wouldn't honour 
 make you keep your word?" I waited breathlessly. 
 
 " Honour ! " he cried impatiently, " do you imagine 
 it would be more honourable to marry a woman I did 
 not love instead of facing the truth like a sensible 
 man and woman?" 
 
 My heart jumped as if I had been struck. The 
 colour flooded my face and with a sudden intolerable 
 anger, I turned quickly and hurried down the path. 
 How dare he say such things ? 
 
 In a moment I heard quick footsteps and a deter- 
 mined figure wheeled and planted itself on the path 
 before me. There was a glint of whimsical humour in 
 his eyes, and " Don't send me packing into outer 
 darkness without telling me what I've done to deserve 
 it!" he said. 
 
 "I don't wish to continue the argument; our ideas 
 are as far apart as the poles," I answered haughtily. 
 
 " That's too bad, just as I was trying to learn ! " 
 then in a serious tone, " I'm sorry if I hurt your feel- 
 ings, I thought it was just an impersonal argument." 
 
 It was I " 
 
 " I'd hate to hurt you worse than anything " he 
 said softly, and at the new note of apology my mo- 
 mentary anger vanished and a strange feeling of 
 confusion took its place. To get away from it, I 
 said lightly, 
 
 " You don't always carry out your horrid creed, 
 do you ? " 
 
 His free boyish laugh rang out " Now I suppose 
 [68]
 
 The Coming of the American 
 
 you think you've made a hit ! " and confusion, anger, 
 every other feeling melted into a mood of young 
 gaiety, as running down the slope, we made a raid on 
 the orchard and fed ourselves with anything we could 
 find that was good to eat. 
 
 Sir Mark came back in time for dinner. As I saw 
 his grave gentle face, I realised how happy I had been 
 all day. It was a strange disturbing active happi- 
 ness, it was different from the quiet content which Sir 
 Mark gave me; the thought that I was capable of 
 making such a contrast filled me with foreboding. 
 
 That night in the silence of my room, I could not 
 help thinking of Mr. Boynton's look. It had seemed 
 al almost tender, it had thrilled me with a strange 
 exciting confusion I caught sight of my white figure 
 in the long glass; the moon was shining and in its 
 light I could see my glowing eyes, full of youth and 
 dreams waiting, waiting. It almost seemed as 
 though I heard a low voice calling to me and standing 
 tensely, I waited, watching, dreaming. ... A youth- 
 ful figure comes in at my window, and as it raises 
 its head, slowly the dim features grow clear until I 
 look into the pale eager eyes of the American, and 
 in them is something which makes me tremble and 
 afraid and which yet draws me to his arms that I 
 must go to him. . . . 
 
 Movement broke the spell and acutely conscious of 
 a feeling of shame and guilt, I flung myself on my 
 bed and buried my burning cheeks in the pillow. 
 
 Even when I awoke again the memory of that 
 
 [69]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 waking dream was vivid enough to make me deter- 
 mine to avoid Mr. Boynton. Self -consciousness made 
 me greet him coldly as we started for a picnic which 
 had been arranged to a beautiful wood the other side 
 of Barnston. Sir Mark and Mr. Boynton, the doc- 
 tor's wife, Mother and I, and several other young 
 people were driving over in the morning, Father and 
 the doctor coming on in time for tea. I kept rigidly 
 by Sir Mark's side and as I was driving with him in 
 his dog-cart, heading the procession of vehicles which 
 followed behind, he looked down at me for a moment 
 and the love in his eyes was so true that with quick 
 contrition I determined to make up to him, even for 
 a dream. He was so good to me. I did love him. 
 I would be very good to him, and make him happy. 
 
 We were putting out the things for tea, when the 
 two late arrivals drove up, and in the momentary 
 confusion of greeting them, I found Mr. Boynton 
 just behind me. 
 
 " What have I done ? " he asked in a low voice. 
 " You have scarcely spoken to me to-day." 
 
 " Oh, nothing," I answered in a casual tone, " but of 
 course Sir Mark is here." He flushed and immedi- 
 ately I would have given worlds to recall the words; 
 it was a horrid thing to say to a guest, and besides, 
 what I had implied was not true. But all day I had 
 been conscious of something which hurt me, some- 
 thing which drove me to a wish to hurt him too. Then 
 as I saw that I had succeeded, I was seized with an 
 immediate counter desire t o make amends. " I'm 
 
 [70]
 
 The Coming of the American 
 
 sorry, I didn't mean it," I stammered, " I just felt 
 cross. Will you walk to Barnston with me, it's only 
 a little way, and I would like you to see Nancy, she's 
 the beauty of our village? " 
 
 As he assented, I remembered my determination 
 to be specially attentive to Sir Mark, and after hastily 
 asking him to come with us, I did not know whether 
 I was glad or sorry when he agreed. 
 
 Nancy was stitching at the crown of a hat when we 
 arrived at the little shop. I had not seen her for quite 
 a time and she looked so pale that I was shocked and 
 disappointed. " Why, Nancy, what have you done 
 with your lovely colour? " 
 
 She flushed and in the excitement of the introduc- 
 tions, she seemed like her old self again. Mr. Boyn- 
 ton chatted with her in his friendly manner while Sir 
 Mark and I talked to Mrs. Wilkes, he in his gentle 
 courteous way, I in a desultory fashion, with my 
 mind chiefly on the thing I had said why had I 
 wished to make him suffer? While we were walking 
 back, this thought was -still bothering me, and I did 
 not listen very carefully to Mr. Boynton's eulogies 
 on Nancy's wonderful colouring, nor wonder very 
 much why she had been so pale and tired. 
 
 As we stood in the yard of the old inn, where the 
 horses had been put up, waiting until the carriages 
 were ready to take us home, the sun was setting over 
 the trees. Smoke curled out of the chimney of the 
 house, losing itself slowly in the soft evening twi- 
 light, and on a seat in the porch, almost hidden by 
 
 [71]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 the trailing creeper, the inn-keeper's two children were 
 playing with three tiny kittens, the mother-cat watch- 
 ing anxiously from the ground so that her children 
 came to no harm. Mr. Boynton and I were leaning 
 against the side of a water trough, watching the 
 laughing group who were hindering rather than help- 
 ing the old ostler to harness the horses. I turned to 
 make a gay remark to my companion and was sur- 
 prised to find how serious he looked. 
 
 " It's a wonderful place. You can't believe what a 
 bully good time I am having here." 
 
 "You're not finding it too quiet?" I asked shyly, 
 wondering why his words made me so happy. 
 
 " No " he answered slowly. " There's something 
 in the air which gets hold of one. I guess if I stayed 
 here much longer, I might almost be tempted to 
 'stagnate ' as I so scornfully called it. I don't know 
 what it is, but there's something, the sense of home and 
 family life perhaps, which grips the heart. It is full 
 of peace and contentment, but I begin to realise it is 
 the contentment of living, not of stagnating. Some- 
 how I'm not in quite such a hurry to get to grips with 
 the world. I have been very happy ! " 
 
 " Thank you for that admission," I said quietly, 
 though my heart was racing. He had been very 
 happy ! 
 
 " Only a week now, and then I'll have to beat it to 
 my conquest of the world " he said, half smiling. 
 " I've already stayed a terrible long time, but Sir Mark 
 was so pressing and of course I didn't want to go." 
 
 [72]
 
 The Coming of the American 
 
 Only a week! Immediately my happiness fell 
 away; there remained only the restlessness which lately 
 had crept across my usual contentment. 
 
 The days flew. Everyone seemed to want to give 
 a farewell party to the boy who had won their liking 
 " Makes me feel like a darned Sultan taking leave of 
 his subjects," he said grinning. 
 
 Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday passed 
 and it was the evening before the day on which we 
 were to have our last picnic. Last the thought of 
 finality came as a blow. I had been so happy, I had 
 not thought about the future. How quiet and lonely 
 it would seem without him. On Saturday he would 
 be gone; and suddenly after that everything became 
 grey and lifeless. 
 
 But when Friday morning came with sunshine and 
 warmth, I cast away all thought, I would enjoy every 
 minute of this day why even Mother Nature in- 
 tended that we should be happy ! And happy we were ; 
 everybody was laughing and talking a great deal, even 
 Sir Mark responding to my gay teasing mood with 
 an unusually humorous look in his kind blue eyes. 
 Once as I was near him, and we were a little away 
 from the others, he said in a low voice, 
 
 " Margaret, you look beautiful to-day, with your 
 sparkling eyes and cheeks full of colour, like a deep 
 dark red rose, glowing with life and love." 
 
 And I was frightened and a little ashamed; was I 
 glowing with love for him, for this quiet dignified 
 man with the gentle manner? 
 
 [73]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 The hampers were opened at the bottom of a gentle 
 slope, shaded from the sun by the great trees, not far 
 away from where a brook bubbled over its stony 
 course. Everyone had some duty, one to lay the 
 cloth, another to gather sticks for the fire " I'll go to 
 the farm for water and milk," sang out Mr. Boynton, 
 " come along and help me, Miss Miller, won't you? " 
 
 We went away laughing, but out of the sound of 
 the other voices, self-consciousness settled over us. 
 Our way lay along a path through the trees; the sandy 
 soil, washed clear by the rain, was a beautiful, soft, 
 warm red-yellow. All around us the dark trunks of 
 the trees seemed to shut us in, the deep autumn- 
 tinted foliage making a screen around us, so that it 
 might have been that we were in a world alone. For 
 a time we walked on in the silence, then he said in 
 a low voice, 
 
 " I wanted to tell you that I shall never forget 
 Sunnydale and the people here and you. Perhaps 
 some day you'll have me for another vacation, will 
 you?" 
 
 " Perhaps ! " I began gaily, trying to hide the trem- 
 bling on my lips and running on into other words 
 in an effort to recover " and then I will be your 
 hostess ! " 
 
 Even as the words left my lips, fear came over 
 me then 7 should be married to Sir Mark! At the 
 thought, my heart seemed to stop, and I put out my 
 hands vaguely, gropingly to try and steady myself till 
 the darkness should have passed. 
 
 [74]
 
 The Coming of the American 
 
 In the world which was whirling around me, I 
 heard a voice, a long way off, saying, " Margaret, 
 what is the matter?" My hands were grasped by 
 strong, living, vital hands and then I was in his 
 arms, he was kissing my hair, my eyes, my mouth, 
 while the blood surged back to my head in dizzying 
 leaps. I was happy, happy with the deep almost terri- 
 ble happiness I had dreamed about. This was the love 
 which would sweep me away, which would leave no 
 room for approval, for formality this was the love 
 in which youth cried to youth, leaving middle age in 
 the background. 
 
 Middle age Sir Mark! Thought returned, and 
 with a feeling of shame, I pushed Mr. Boynton's arms 
 away, and looked at this new figure which in a second 
 had changed into someone so vital, so overpowering, 
 so intimate. Breathlessly, with arms outstretched to 
 keep away this force while I tried to think, I whis- 
 pered, 
 
 "We forget Lam engaged " 
 
 " I forget nothing, but I love you you love me, I 
 know it, I know it ! " His low confident voice thrilled 
 through me, he did not even need to ask me if I 
 loved him, he knew. 
 
 " But Mark, I can't hurt him," and as his gentle face 
 came before me, I felt more ashamed, more remorse- 
 ful. " Oh, how dishonourable of me to let you kiss 
 me." 
 
 " You didn't let me we couldn't help it. Listen, 
 Margaret," he said very solemnly, " days ago I was 
 
 [75]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 afraid of the feeling I was beginning to have for you, 
 but I held it in check, because I have always deter- 
 mined not to marry for years and years till I had 
 gotten my career well started, so " 
 
 " Wasn't it partly because of honour to Sir Mark? " 
 I interrupted, wishing to hear him confirm what I 
 believed, that his feelings were always finer than his 
 egotistical creed would admit. 
 
 " Perhaps," he answered a little shyly, " but now 
 now I have won you, I'm going to keep you." 
 
 " But I'm engaged to Sir Mark. He has trusted us, 
 he believed so implicitly in me that he never thought 
 of being jealous oh, how deceitful I feel." 
 
 " I hate it to have happened while I am his guest, 
 but now that it has, it's too late to mend it." 
 
 " No, it isn't, we didn't know, but now I can at least 
 keep my word to him. I couldn't break it, it would 
 be so dishonourable." 
 
 " Would it be more honourable to marry him when 
 you love me? " he asked quietly. 
 
 " Yes," I answered desperately, " I will make up 
 to him, I will be very good to him. I can't hurt him, 
 you don't know how terrible it is to hurt as this would 
 hurt him. I know what it means." 
 
 " Make up to him ! " His voice was slightly iron- 
 ical, as he hardened under my opposition. " As if 
 a man wants that! If he can't have a woman's love, 
 as if he would want her pity. You must face it, 
 Margaret. I have won you and I'm going to keep 
 you." 
 
 [76]
 
 The Coming of the American 
 
 I looked at his determined face. He was so young 
 and yet so certain of himself; nothing must stand in 
 the way of his will. 
 
 " There would be such scandal and publicity. I 
 don't think I could bear to hurt him so much." 
 
 " Well, you won't be here to see his suffering, and 
 you'll soon forget all that has gone in a new life in 
 America with me." 
 
 A new life with him away from Sunnydale, in 
 a far-off country! Until that moment I had only 
 thought of Sir Mark, and of my promise to him. Now 
 the whole of my life came before me with tremendous 
 strength. Every minute since I had been born, the 
 love of my home and all that surrounded it had been 
 steadily growing until it seemed a part of me; my en- 
 gagement to Sir Mark was the culmination. Just 
 for a moment all that had gone before was stronger 
 than this new powerful love, just for a moment loyalty 
 to Sir Mark and all that he represented made it 
 necessary that I should fight on his side, against 
 this new strength which had undermined our 
 old life, that I must defy it as if it were an 
 enemy. 
 
 " I can't go with you," I said breathlessly, " I can't 
 leave Sunnydale." 
 
 He looked at me with a puzzled surprise. " Do 
 you mean that your home and your life here mean 
 more than I do ? " 
 
 How could I explain to him the power of all the 
 forces which had had me in their grasp for nineteen 
 
 [77]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 years? " No, no," I said miserably, "but I can't hurt 
 Sir Mark, I can't leave Sunnydale." 
 
 He flung away from me in hurt pride. "I am 
 sorry I did not understand more quickly. I thought 
 you loved me, that it was only a sense of duty which 
 made you hesitate. I had forgotten that you would 
 be Lady Haselton!" He laughed shortly. "You 
 have made it quite clear, I won't bother you any 
 more. I will leave you to Sunnydale and Sir Mark 
 Haselton, and I hope they may make you happy. 
 Good-bye!" He turned away quickly, walking on 
 towards the farm. 
 
 I felt stunned; not angry at his taunt, scarcely sad, 
 only stupid. The wonderful love of which I had 
 dreamed had come so suddenly now it had gone 
 again. In a dream I made my way back to the 
 others, pleading a headache as my reason for not 
 going all the way to the farm. 
 
 As the day lengthened, and my brain cleared, 
 misery began to grow. Yet he could laugh, he could 
 be merry and witty and entertaining, I saw in hurt 
 surprise. He couldn't do it if he really cared, if he 
 felt as I did. And pride came, stifling the growing 
 fear of the time when he should have gone, building 
 up anger at his taunt. How dared he suggest that I 
 would not go with him because of the material posi- 
 tion I should lose ! 
 
 And next day we parted almost as strangers while in 
 my heart pride fought with misery as I heard his cool 
 friendly "Good-bye!" after those moments in the 
 
 [78]
 
 The Coming of the American 
 
 wood! Well, I would forget him. Soon he would 
 be gone, this stranger in our midst, and after that life 
 would go on again in the same old way. 
 
 But as he drove away I caught hie momentary look. 
 His eyes were hurt and they took me back to the short 
 time when there had only been us in the world; for 
 a moment they excluded the group around. It was 
 our only good-bye, but it dissolved the pride which 
 had held my misery in check. So he did care, I knew 
 it from his eyes; that easy manner had been just a 
 mask. Oh, why hadn't he waited? Why couldn't 
 he have realised that it was not easy to throw off the 
 feelings and habits of all the years before, just in a 
 minute ? 
 
 The door of the car was shut. He had gone and 
 I should never see him again. How could I go on 
 living the old life? 
 
 [79]
 
 BOOK THREE: MARRIAGE
 
 BOOK THREE: MARRIAGE 
 Chapter One 
 
 I HAD sent him away, I had chosen duty and 
 peace in the place I loved, and in the midst of 
 people I had always known, rather than love and life 
 in a new world! And instead of peace, instead of 
 the old contentment in my beautiful home and the 
 things around it, there was struggle a never-ending 
 struggle to settle down to life as it had been, to look 
 forward with the same tranquillity to my approaching 
 marriage. 
 
 After Mr. Boynton had really gone, after I had 
 seen the carriage disappear through the gates and 
 into the winding road beyond, putting an end to my 
 mad desire to dash after it and call him back when 
 there was nothing except poignant memories to show 
 that he had been with us, I knew the meaning of 
 terror, of sheer desolate terror at the thought of the 
 blackness of the future. In my room that night I 
 faced life without love. Nineteen! And long, long 
 years before me and in them nothing. Nothing 
 which I wanted, nothing of the man for whom I 
 longed with my whole being. 
 
 As I gradually realised the strength of the love 
 
 [83]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 which had come, honour, Meadowmere, Sunnydale, 
 everything else faded into nothingness. If he could 
 only have come again! Even when pride began to 
 raise its head saying, " How weak is this shilly- 
 shallying. You have made your choice, it is too late 
 to change; be a woman and put this love out of 
 your life!" my heart answered, "but it can't be put 
 out of my thoughts, even if I gather together all the 
 forces which have hitherto ruled my life to fight 
 against its strength." 
 
 In the background of the struggle, making me yet 
 unhappier, was remorse. I was untrue to Sir Mark; 
 not only untrue but ungenerous in continually con- 
 trasting the old love with the new. Although I was 
 keeping my word, was there any spirit in it? How 
 could there be when every time Mark kissed me I 
 thought of Mr. Boynton, and my heart rebelled against 
 what seemed like sacrilege? If Mark had been cross 
 and overbearing, things might have been easier to 
 bear, but his kindness and consideration were an addi- 
 tional reproach for my lack of response, and his 
 gentle kindly ways grew to be an irritation, emphasised 
 by my rebellious longing for someone else, for some- 
 one who was not gentle and kind, who was strong 
 and intolerant. 
 
 In this struggle the Mere was my refuge. There 
 I could throw off the guard which I had to keep for 
 fear Sir Mark's keen eyes would notice a difference 
 in me. There was no one to see me; I was alone with 
 my thoughts and its solitude was very welcome. 
 
 [84]
 
 Marriage 
 
 The month after Mr. Boynton had gone was the 
 longest I had ever spent. After a more than unusually 
 difficult day, I was looking into the deep still waters 
 of the Mere, which suggested such a sense of age- 
 lessness, thinking that when I had gone, they would 
 still be there, that perhaps a daughter of mine would 
 be bringing her sorrows there for consolation, pray- 
 ing that she might never have to make such a 
 choice, when there was a movement in the 
 rushes. 
 
 With a feeling of terror I held my breath. Who 
 could it be? There was never anyone there after 
 dark, but as a figure rose out of them I was relieved 
 to find that there was something familiar about it 
 then with a shock I saw that it was Nancy, but a 
 Nancy I could scarcely recognise. What had hap- 
 pened ? 
 
 " Nancy ! " I called softly, " Nancy, don't you see 
 me?" 
 
 She did not answer and began to creep away. With 
 a puzzled awestruck feeling of pity at the change in 
 her appearance, I hurried after her, putting my arm 
 around her shoulder. She stiffened and seemed about 
 to draw away, then her body relaxing, she burst into 
 violent weeping. 
 
 " Go away, go away ! " she sobbed. 
 
 "But, Nancy, why? What's the matter, can't I 
 help you ? " And then as she leaned against me, the 
 sobs shaking her body-^ 7 knew. " Nancy ! " I 
 whispered, overwhelmed by the knowledge, filled by 
 
 [85]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 remorse that lately I had given no thought to Martha 
 or Nancy. I tried to comfort her. 
 
 " Tell me about it, tell me how I can help you? " 
 
 But she drew up and a set stubborn look grew in 
 her pale face. " There's nothing to tell, and no one 
 can help!" she said sullenly. " Please go away." 
 
 " I can't until I see you safely home." For I was 
 frightened by a further terrible thought " Nancy, 
 you weren't, you weren't " 
 
 " What does it matter what I was going to do," she 
 interrupted wearily. " My life is over anyway." 
 
 I thought of the day when I had seen her under the 
 roses, dreams in her eyes and all her life before 
 her. And that was such a little time ago. It was 
 the first time that I had known of shame and sorrow 
 in connection with Motherhood; hitherto it had been 
 so beautiful and natural to me. 
 
 As we went into the cottage, Martha was sitting 
 by the window, staring into the darkness. Old John 
 sat near her, holding a newspaper which he made no 
 attempt to read; the lamp was not even lit. How 
 they had both altered ! I went to Martha and put my 
 arms around her neck and stroked her cheek. What 
 could I say that would help such grief as hers? 
 
 " Martha, take care of her," I whispered, " I I 
 am afraid for her." 
 
 She looked at her daughter with a love which was 
 outraged and shamed. " She won't say who it is, 
 but if I ever find out " 
 
 John's eyes glowed in unison with an ugly light. 
 [86]
 
 Marriage 
 
 It was pitiful to see the change in his weather-beaten 
 old face where there had always been some of the 
 peace of the country life and the beauty of the living 
 growing things he tended; now it was sullen and 
 brooding. 
 
 And I understood why Nancy had kept so stub- 
 bornly silent about her lover's name; she feared the 
 violence which these despairing parents might do. 
 The fierceness of their love which had turned into 
 bitterness frightened me, haunting me for days. 
 
 In the effort to get away from all these sad thoughts, 
 I spent more and more time in the village, where I 
 would casually mention Mr. Boynton's name and then 
 eagerly listen for the word of quiet praise which 
 often followed. Especially did I like to sit in the 
 cottage of the smith, for it seemed that when I nursed 
 the baby which he had held, some lingering touch of 
 his personality came to me, and with a beating heart 
 I would listen to the mother as she talked of him. 
 It was a rather unhappy satisfaction, like seeing the 
 picture of a well-loved face you cannot touch, but it 
 was all I had, and with it I tried to fill the ache in my 
 heart 
 
 [87]
 
 Chapter Two 
 
 PEOPLE say that if we could foretell the future, 
 it would be a gift which the strongest of us 
 might shun. And yet I wonder whether it would not 
 have been more merciful if we had had some inkling 
 of the awful blow which was to befall us. If out of a 
 clear blue sky a thunderbolt could fall and mow down 
 a family, would it not be more terrible than if there 
 had been signs of storm, and the disaster thus antici- 
 pated by a warning! 
 
 I was dusting Father's study one morning towards 
 the end of March, arranging the papers on his desk, 
 a duty of which I was rather proud as I was the 
 only one who was allowed to touch them, because I 
 did not ' get them in a muddle ' when a motor 
 whizzed up to the door and out of it came a man 
 with a small attache case. I recognised him as the 
 manager of the bank at Barnston. He and Father 
 came into the room together. A large screen stood 
 between the desk and the door, shielding Father from 
 any draught there always was a draught everywhere, 
 according to him and for the moment I was out of 
 sight. I was just going to make my presence known 
 when the man's first words stopped me. 
 [88]
 
 Marriage 
 
 " I want to show you this check, Mr. Miller. 
 Of course no doubt it is all right, but you know we 
 are always so careful about our clients' affairs," and 
 he coughed in his nervous fussy way " and there is 
 just a slight departure from your usual signature. 
 It is made out to Master Tom, and no doubt is all 
 right, but, well, as I say, we " 
 
 " What is the amount? " Father interrupted shortly. 
 
 " Five hundred pounds." 
 
 Five hundred pounds, to Tom ! Oh God, what does 
 it mean? 
 
 I heard my father say, "Just a moment and I'll 
 refer," before he came behind the screen. I don't 
 think he saw me. His face was livid. For a moment 
 he stood leaning against the desk, supporting his body 
 with his arms, hidden from the man who was wait- 
 ing. Then he shuffled upright, rubbed his cheeks hard 
 with the backs of his knuckles, and with his head up, 
 he went out into the room, saying in a voice which 
 sounded like his ordinary one, 
 
 " Oh, it's all right, I had forgotten for the moment. 
 Just a little present, a little extra, you know." And 
 he laughed. Where did he find the strength to 
 laugh ? 
 
 The Bank Manager was evidently relieved. " That's 
 all right then, thought I had just better call it to your 
 attention. It's better to be safe than sorry ! " and he 
 rambled on as he went out. 
 
 I heard a door slam. I waited breathlessly. Then 
 footsteps on the carpet and Father came towards me. 
 
 [89]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 His eyes were burning in a terrible white masque. 
 He seemed to look through me, yet in a quiet voice, 
 he said, " Tell your mother I would like to speak to 
 her here." 
 
 I hurried to her as fast as my trembling body would 
 take me. There was something menacing in that 
 quiet voice. Almost against my will, I followed her 
 into the room and shut the door. 
 
 " What is the matter ? " she asked in a casual tone. 
 
 " It's it's " He stammered, while the veins in 
 
 his forehead stood out, as he tried to keep his self- 
 control. Then he seemed to cast it from him, and like 
 a lion infuriated by a mortal wound, he burst forth. 
 His rage was terrible, aweing, terrifying all the more 
 awful because of the contrast to his usual quietude. 
 Among the storm of words I caught a few coherent 
 phrases "Your son ... a rogue, scoundrel . . . 
 forger. Now are you satisfied?" 
 
 Although she whitened under the storm, her self- 
 control was perfect, as with a gesture of contempt she 
 went up to him, and grasping his arm said, " Tell me 
 what has happened without so much hysteria." 
 
 I saw a bitter look come into his eyes, then with 
 an effort, he said more quietly, 
 
 " Yes, I will tell you ! Your son has forged my 
 name to a check for five hundred pounds. That is 
 what has happened, that is where your indulgence has 
 brought him. Now what have you to say ? " 
 
 For a moment I thought she was going to faint, 
 then, 
 
 [90]
 
 Marriage 
 
 " I don't believe it," she said. 
 
 " Believe it ! It's only too true, I saw the proof 
 myself." 
 
 She closed her eyes, and her hands went out seem- 
 ing to push the knowledge from her. But she answered 
 quietly, 
 
 " It's only a small amount, he shall make it up to 
 you. I will economise." 
 
 "You don't seem to understand it's forgery!" 
 
 The ugly word pierced her self-control. She clung 
 to my father's arm as he paced the room. " You will 
 forgive him ! You must forgive him ! He will make 
 it up, he must have been tempted too much, you were 
 too harsh to him." 
 
 " He has been tempted once too often ! " he answered 
 in that queer high voice. " I can't prosecute him be- 
 cause of the good name my good name, but out of 
 England he shall go, and he shall never come back, 
 
 and " He hesitated, then in a firmer tone and a 
 
 lower voice, " and Meadowmere shall go to whom it 
 belongs ! " 
 
 Meadowmere to whom it belongs! . . . Things 
 were happening which I could not understand. 
 
 " It shall not ! " my mother said desperately, " you 
 cannot break your promise, it was a solemn vow to 
 me, you " 
 
 " I shall break it. It ought never to have been made, 
 it is perhaps the cause of all this. Meadowmere must 
 go to the rightful heir." 
 
 The rightful heir? Emotion overcame my shrink-
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 ing fear of intruding on this scene, and with sudden 
 courage I broke out, 
 
 " Father, what do you mean ? You must tell me, 
 I have a right to know ! " 
 
 He seemed to see me for the first time. " Yes, you 
 have a right. It means that after I am dead Meadow- 
 mere will belong to you." 
 
 "Tome! And Tom?" 
 
 " Tom is not my son, he is only my step-son." 
 
 I caught a gleam of sullen rage in my mother's 
 eyes, then without another word she went away. 
 
 " Father, I can't understand all this. Everything 
 is terrible and poor Tom!" 
 
 His face hardened. " I have no sympathy for him. 
 He has had everything and this is how he rewards 
 me." 
 
 " But I don't understand, why did you let Tom 
 think he was the heir why " 
 
 " He was to be the heir." And then in a low 
 voice he made the amazing thing clear to me. " Tom 
 is the son of your mother's first husband, who had 
 just died when I met her, leaving this baby of a few 
 months old. She was very beautiful and I I had 
 known only my books and my study. I fell in love 
 with her. I can't tell you what she meant to me, and 
 I was swept away, ready to promise anything if she 
 would marry me. She made me promise that Tom 
 should be the heir to Meadowmere and the estate, un- 
 less a son were born. I had just enough sense of 
 honour to hold out for that, but I thought a daughter 
 
 [92]
 
 Marriage 
 
 would not feel the loss, she would probably marry. 
 So I promised. It was wrong of me. I have re- 
 gretted bitterly." 
 
 I looked at my quiet father in utter amazement, as 
 he stammered out this story. He had always seemed 
 so controlled, so contained, and yet he had been swept 
 away, had been ready to promise anything. How 
 amazing was this force, this emotion which burst over 
 people over Nancy, my father, which had destroyed 
 all my own content and pleasure in my home. If he 
 had stayed a little longer till I was awake to the 
 power of it, would it not have swept me too away so 
 that I would have gone with him to the uttermost 
 parts of the earth! 
 
 'And Meadowmere belonged to me. 
 
 It was the thing for which I had longed. That my 
 beautiful well-loved home might belong to me so that 
 I might never have to leave it. Now the pleasure of 
 knowing it would be mine was shadowed by pity for 
 Tom, and sorrow that for the first time in generations 
 there would not be a Squire Miller, only a woman who 
 would one day be Lady Haselton, and thus would the 
 long line of Millers be broken. Now I could under- 
 stand my mother's hatred of me; as soon as she had 
 known there was to be a child, she had resented it, 
 fearing that a son might oust her darling Tom from 
 the place for which she had schemed yes, it must 
 have been that. That was why she had married, for 
 if she had loved my father, she could not have ex- 
 tracted promises! How she must have loved Tom. 
 
 [93]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 And even when only a girl had been born, the resent- 
 ment had continued, increased by the fact that a 
 daughter who had been robbed of her inheritance was 
 always before her eyes. That was why she was re- 
 lieved when I became engaged. How clear it all was, 
 and my father his head was bowed on his hands, 
 then for a moment he looked up. 
 
 " Will you forgive me ? " 
 
 It hurt that this being whom I had held in such 
 awe should ask me for forgiveness. I went to him 
 and kissed him and stroked his cheek, whispering, 
 " Of course I do," and then I left him. 
 
 Poor Father, how little I had known him ! I went 
 to my seat in the orchard, but there were many changes 
 since that spring day when I had been so happy; 
 there were no blossoms now, it was drear March and 
 a cold wind was blowing through the leafless trees. 
 Poor, poor Tom ! What folly had tempted him ? He 
 must have been crazy, otherwise he must have known 
 that discovery was inevitable. 
 
 Nancy and Father and Tom! I looked at the out- 
 line of my home, now clear through the empty boughs 
 and realised that the peace and happiness I had had in 
 it were gone. I loved it still, but it was with a sad 
 love, full of knowledge of sin and suffering, and in 
 the background lay the incessant struggle to keep my 
 promise to Sir Mark, my incessant longing for him. 
 " Am I doing right in trying to keep my promise ? 
 What is right and what is wrong? Everything seems 
 hopelessly mixed up," I thought. 
 
 [94]
 
 Marriage 
 
 Then my thoughts travelled to my mother and 
 stopped. She had been so proud, so sure, so brilliant 
 and handsome. Now her world had toppled over. 
 Tom, her idol, was dethroned. Everything she had 
 built up and planned for was lost and Tom was to be 
 sent away. My throat contracted oh, my poor, poor 
 mother! How she would be suffering and with the 
 longing to try and comfort her, I went into the house, 
 knocking gently at her door. 
 
 "Who is that?" 
 
 " It's Margaret. Let me come in, Mother, I want 
 you." 
 
 " You can't come in." 
 
 The quiet cold voice fell on my sympathy like an 
 avalanche on some poor traveller. Oh, why wouldn't 
 she take me to her heart? I wanted to show her that 
 I loved her, that I was terribly sorry about Tom, that 
 I didn't rejoice at getting Meadowmere. And instead 
 this " You can't come in ! " How it hurt ! 
 
 In my longing for some one to talk to, I thought of 
 Martha. She knew what sorrow was, she would 
 understand and she would never tell any one. Since 
 her trouble over Nancy, she had gone less and less 
 among the villagers, from whom even before she had 
 always held a little aloof. Now the thought that they 
 could look down upon her daughter made her hold her 
 head higher and her face had become stern and set, 
 as she went on her way in tortured silence, asking 
 for no pity. She was sitting looking out of the 
 window with that set fixed look, her usually busy 
 
 [95]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 hands idle. Was I right to burden her with my 
 troubles yes, perhaps they might take away her mind 
 from her own. 
 
 " Martha," I said, coming behind her, and putting 
 my arms around her neck. " Martha ! " The trouble 
 in my voice made her look up quickly. 
 
 " What has happened ? What further terrible thing 
 has happened ? " 
 
 " We are in great trouble Tom has " I could 
 hardly tell the shameful thing, " he's " I heard a 
 rustle. "What is that?" 
 
 " It's only Nancy, she's lying down. What about 
 Master Tom?" 
 
 " He has oh, Martha, he has forged a check ! " 
 
 " What! " she shouted, " I don't believe it, Master 
 Tom." 
 
 " It's too true, and now he is to be sent away for 
 ever why is there so much trouble?" 
 
 There was a cry from the bedroom. Martha and I 
 hurried in. On the bed like a thing of death lay 
 Nancy, immovable, hardly seeming to breathe. 
 
 I ran to Meadowmere with all my might and tele- 
 phoned for the doctor. Later that night Nancy's 
 child was born. 
 
 [96]
 
 Chapter Three 
 
 I THINK that until the very day before Tom was 
 to sail for Australia, Mother thought that Father 
 would relent and give him another chance. She 
 pleaded so hard for him and she had been so used to 
 having her own way that this new adamantine quality 
 bewildered her. When she realised that his decision 
 was firm she demanded that she should see Tom 
 before he went, and as she and Father set out for their 
 sad journey of farewell, her face was set into a cold 
 hatred for she was thinking only of the boy she 
 worshipped, without any pity for the hurt pride of the 
 man she had married. I wanted to go with them, 
 to tell Tom how sorry I was, to ask him to bear me 
 no grudge because Meadowmere was coming to me, 
 but I thought that he would not want to see me. If 
 I were in his place I should not want to see any one, 
 so I only sent my love and a box of his favourite 
 cigarettes. 
 
 But when Mother came back from London, I was 
 shocked at the change in her. Her self-control had 
 gone, she seemed like a broken-hearted woman. With 
 pity I put my arms around her. This time she did 
 not reject me, appeared rather to need me, and all the 
 hurt I had suffered faded out of my heart in the new 
 
 [97]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 gladness that I could be of use to her. All this sorrow 
 had given me one thing, a mother whom I could 
 love and nurse and comfort. 
 
 So poor Tom went out of our lives. For the sake 
 of the Miller name the reason for his going was kept 
 a secret, and it was merely given out that he had gone 
 abroad to travel, Father trusting that time would efface 
 his memory from the village, so that when the day 
 came for Meadowmere to belong to me, he should 
 almost be forgotten. Sir Mark was the only one who 
 was told the truth; as he was going to marry me 
 that was only fair. 
 
 But in the meantime our wedding was postponed 
 because I could not leave Mother and it was too sad 
 a time for marriages and merriment, as I told Sir 
 Mark. Nevertheless I was conscious of duplicity for 
 deep in my heart there was an enormous relief that 
 the wedding had to be put off; the delay took one 
 burden away. 
 
 I often wondered whether Mr. Boynton had forgot- 
 ten me in his busy life. He would have so much less 
 time for thought than I. Indeed it seemed as though 
 I only lived in the past, that my body went on doing 
 things, my brain directing it, but immediately the need 
 for action was over, back went my thoughts to that 
 happy month. How much I realised now the strength 
 of my love! If I had known then, would I not have 
 deserted my home, forgotten my promise, everything 
 would I not have gone away to a far country? 
 
 As time went by some of my mother's old spirit 
 
 [98]
 
 Marriage 
 
 came back to her, fostered by hopeful letters which 
 began to come from Tom; yet did she not reject my 
 companionship and I was very glad. Glad too, at 
 the change which the dependence on his own resources 
 seemed gradually to make in Tom. It had been the 
 saving point; he wrote in a more manly tone, a new 
 confidence in himself beginning to take the place of 
 the old easy arrogant spirit which considered that he 
 could do no wrong. 
 
 Sir Mark was very patient, very gentle and kind; 
 he was too good to me. I wished he had been less 
 thoughtful and unselfish. I wished he could have 
 been more assertive, demanded more. Unconsciously 
 I was always contrasting his way with what another 
 would have done in the same circumstances could I 
 imagine him waiting patiently? No, he would have 
 demanded, and just because I was a woman, I would 
 have responded to his impatience and his will. 
 
 Six months passed. Even Sir Mark began to sug- 
 gest firmly that the wedding should not be put off 
 any further, and with Mother's complete recovery of 
 her former composure, I could no longer plead that she 
 needed me. Finally a date was set the respite was 
 over! 
 
 And twelve months ago, he had been with us. We 
 had walked and talked together. He had told me he 
 loved me. Where was he now ? What was he doing 
 did he still care? No, he couldn't, or he would have 
 come to me again. Sometimes I felt that I could not 
 go on with the engagement, that it was not fair to 
 
 [99]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 Sir Mark, but when I had given up so much to keep 
 my promise, I could not bear that the sacrifice should 
 be quite useless. Perhaps, too, I went on because it 
 needed a sudden emotion to key me up to a courageous 
 deed, because all my life I had thought that a promise 
 once given was a sacred thing to be carried out at all 
 costs, and because, although the old life at Meadow- 
 mere had lost so much of its peace, I hoped to find con- 
 tentment in the new life, which would have so many 
 more demands. 
 
 One of my chief pleasures was to visit Nancy and 
 her baby. He was a bonny, healthy little thing who 
 twined his way into every one's heart and I loved him. 
 There had been a battle royal between my mother and 
 me before I was allowed to go to the cottage, but my 
 passionate pity for Nancy and my love for the tiny 
 thing which I had held on the night when it was born 
 gave me courage to rebel and to appeal to Father. His 
 quiet " Let her go, Martha is there and Nancy won't 
 hurt her. You seem to forget that we cannot throw 
 stones ! " showed a new spirit of decision and made my 
 mother flinch. It was perhaps cruel of him, but he 
 suffered so in the perpetual knowledge of the secret 
 disgrace which had come upon his family, in which 
 his pride was so strong an inheritance. 
 
 In the happiness the child brought, Nancy gradually 
 lost most of her bitterness. How could sin and misery 
 live in the presence of the fair-haired laughing baby? 
 Even Martha and John were peacefully won from 
 their desperation and the little household seemed to 
 [100]
 
 Marriage 
 
 find content, living only in their own lives. It was 
 different from the old content because it had come out 
 of unhappiness, but it was healing their hearts. 
 
 I was therefore all the more surprised to hear the 
 sound of weeping as I passed their cottage one day in 
 September. It was Nancy's voice, too. What fresh 
 trouble could have come to disturb her growing happi- 
 ness? I tapped at the door but no one appearing I 
 turned the handle and went in. 
 
 " Can I help ? " I called, fearing to intrude and yet 
 not wishing to go away with the sound of such pain in 
 my ears. No answer came, so, hesitatingly, I went to 
 the little bedroom. The child was sitting in his cot, 
 gurgling and playing with his toes, quite indifferent to 
 the woman who was lying on the bed, her face buried 
 in the pillow, trying to stifle the sobs which were shak- 
 ing her. 
 
 " Nancy, what's the matter ? " I asked as I put my 
 arms around her. 
 
 " I'm going away," she said presently, when she 
 grew quieter. 
 
 " To leave Sunnydale why ? " 
 
 " It's for the child's sake. Sam Hill still wants to 
 marry me and now he has got a good job in London 
 and wants to take me there." 
 
 " Sam Hill going to London ! Why, what will they 
 do on the farm what will his father say ? " 
 
 " He has got the job for my sake," she answered in 
 a low voice. " Sam doesn't want to go any more than 
 his father wants him to, but I told him I wouldn't 
 
 [101]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 marry him and live here. Now Mother says I ought 
 to go away for the child's sake, and I know it would 
 be better for him. But it's fair breaking my heart to 
 leave here and to marry again, if there was only 
 me, I wouldn't," she added with a brooding love in her 
 face. 
 
 So she still loved the man who had caused so much 
 misery! And Sam Hill, going away, giving up the 
 farm which would be his, almost certainly against his 
 father's will, for it meant that when he died strangers 
 would inhabit the place which had been the family 
 home for so many years. And all for love! Every- 
 where around me the shadow of its force seemed to 
 lie; bonds were broken, old habits changed, hearts 
 joined and then wrenched apart; everywhere it left a 
 track of its passing. 
 
 " Oh, Nancy," I said sadly, " how young we were 
 when we made our vow. Do you remember that we 
 would never, never leave Sunnydale? " 
 
 " Remember, I am always remembering, I ean't for- 
 get. But you at least won't have to break that childish 
 promise." 
 
 " No," I answered hesitatingly, while in my memory 
 was the picture of the autumn woods and a young 
 buoyant voice urging me to go to a new country. I 
 stooped quickly and caught up the child to hide my 
 tears. 
 
 As he laughed at me, opening wide his blue eyes, I 
 was startled by a likeness to whom? Some feeling 
 made me look up. Nancy was watching me curiously 
 [102]
 
 Marriage 
 
 was it fear in her eyes ? " Nancy ! " I said breath- 
 lessly, " he's like " 
 
 " Hush ! " she answered sharply. " That's what I'm 
 afraid of. Oh, I must go quickly." 
 
 A horrible fear was tugging at my heart why 
 didn't she deny it? Why did she just sit there, watch- 
 ing the child with hungry eyes and planning to go 
 away. " Nancy? " I questioned again fearfully. And 
 then a hot wave of shame enveloped me and putting 
 the child down I began to creep out of the cottage. 
 
 " You'll promise me never to mention what you 
 even think?" She grasped my arm, dominating me 
 with the strength of the love which all along had 
 shielded the man, and before she let me go she had 
 my promise. 
 
 Two days later she was quietly married to Sam Hill 
 and in the evening I went to the station to see her 
 off to her new home in London. He was radiantly 
 happy. I looked at Nancy's pale beauty, and thought 
 what a contrast it made to the bridegroom in all the 
 awkwardness of a new blue suit and collar and bril- 
 liant tie. In his corduroys, with his shirt open at the 
 neck, showing the strong brown throat, with his curly 
 hair and great red hands grasping his spade or wield- 
 ing a pick, he was a handsome and picturesque figure ; 
 now in these stiff unaccustomed clothes he was awk- 
 ward, almost grotesque. I saw Nancy's eyes say a 
 mute good-bye to the home she loved, and the sadness 
 in them brought the tears to mine. As the train began 
 to move, Sam lifted up the baby to wave his hands out 
 
 '[ 103 ]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 of the window. The wind touched his pale gold hair, 
 and with the laughter in his eyes, my heart almost 
 stopped beating, as I looked around the little group. 
 
 Surely they would recognise the likeness? But no 
 one seemed conscious of it was I wrong in thinking 
 that I saw the living picture of my brother Tom ?
 
 Chapter Four 
 
 IN two months I should be married ! I grew afraid. 
 I had thought that friendship and admiration 
 would suffice, but I was beginning to realise how much 
 more was necessary, beginning to shrink from it. 
 There were times when I was almost on the point of 
 bursting out to Sir Mark " I cannot marry you I 
 love some one else ! " 
 
 It was a day in late September when after a restless 
 night I longed to get out into the early morning air 
 and as I went into the porch, our old postman was 
 coming up the drive. I met him with a " good morn- 
 ing " which was much gayer than I felt, and he held 
 out a letter to me " There's one for you, Miss Mar- 
 garet." 
 
 I looked at the unfamiliar handwriting, and then I 
 saw the postmark United States of America. 
 
 I sat down on the green velvet of the lawn, waiting 
 until I could see to read it. 
 
 Only a few words but how vital ! " I had a letter 
 from Robert Haselton the other day and I gather that 
 you are not yet married. Why? Does it mean that 
 you have changed your mind, that Sunnydale and all 
 the rest of it does not make up for lack of love? If 
 by a happy fate it does, cable me just one word 
 
 [105]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 ' Yes ' and I'll be over by the next steamer to bring you 
 home. This sounds mighty flat but I can't put my 
 thoughts and longing on paper. But tell me to come! " 
 
 So he wanted me still. In a moment doubts and 
 fears left me; this enormous unexpected blessing 
 wrapped me in a cloud of happiness nothing mat- 
 tered, nothing but his love. I must be true to it at all 
 costs, even if I hurt Sir Mark, even if I had to leave 
 Sunnydale. As his words made my heart beat, I 
 thought how like my impetuous lover they were and 
 even with the thought I realised that I had never ap- 
 plied that word to Sir Mark. 
 
 I went out through the orchard into the woods and 
 on the top of the hill where he had been with me. 
 The day was grey and cloudy, but the colours of the 
 trees and the earth and the fields were warm and beau- 
 tiful. Reds and greens and yellows and browns flared 
 and vied with each other amid the leaves before falling 
 to the ground and leaving the boughs they had cov- 
 ered to the storms of winter. 
 
 And on the hill-top, I confirmed my choice. The 
 place I loved stretched before me, but there was some- 
 thing stronger, more vital awaiting me, life with the 
 man I loved. In the glory of this thought I began 
 to weave dreams that perhaps after all I need not leave 
 Sunnydale for ever. Now that Meadowmere would 
 belong to me, he would surely feel differently. There 
 was work for a man to do here fine strong work, 
 even if it would not shine in the eyes of the world. 
 Tom was to have relieved Father of some of the man- 
 [106]
 
 Marriage 
 
 agement of the estate and now that Tom was gone 
 why couldn't Edward take it up ? Then in the future, 
 a long way in the future, I hoped, for I loved my 
 father, I saw Meadowmere belonging to us, to me 
 and my husband and our son; and once more there 
 would be a Squire Miller at Meadowmere, a Miller 
 who would also be a Boynton. I threw out my arms 
 towards the surrounding hills and in an ecstasy of 
 future happiness I watched the clouds rolling over 
 the valley. 
 
 My heart beat quickly as I went down to the little 
 post-office to send my message. The postmistress was 
 scarcely awake, the shutters had only just been taken 
 down and she stared to see me at this early hour. 
 My hand shook and the paper danced before my eyes 
 as I wrote that one word " Yes." 
 
 Then I went back to tell Sir Mark. 
 
 He was waiting for me on the lawn after breakfast, 
 as usual, and as he came forward with his kind smile, 
 I was terribly sorry for the hurt I was going to do to 
 him. But I had no longer any misgivings or hesita- 
 tions. In the knowledge that he still wanted me I 
 seemed to have found an older determination; I felt 
 as though I could fight for the love I must have. 
 
 " Mark," I began in a low voice, " I want to tell you 
 a story." And I told him of my love for the stranger, 
 of my struggles against it and how finally it had won. 
 
 When I had finished he made no sign, but the tan 
 of his face became a greyish colour, more terrible than 
 if it had been white. 
 
 [ 107 ]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 " Will you forgive me ? " I stammered. 
 
 He did not answer but his blue eyes burned with 
 anger. " He was my guest ! And yet he tried to take 
 you away from me." 
 
 Eagerly I defended the man I loved " Don't blame 
 him! He did not try to do it, it all came upon us 
 
 suddenly, we were both so young and " As I saw 
 
 him flinch, I realised what I had said, the unconscious 
 cruelty of it " Mark, Mark, don't look like that, tell 
 me you forgive me ! " 
 
 " Don't talk about forgiveness; it is fate and I have 
 lost. When is he coming? " 
 
 " I don't know soon." 
 
 " Then I will go away and leave the field clear," he 
 said bitterly, " that would be easier for all." 
 
 Quite suddenly I thought of Tom's debt, that made 
 me the more ashamed to be indebted to the man I was 
 giving up, but some instinct kept me silent. I knew 
 it would hurt him still more to mention it just then. 
 
 It was true that I did not know when Edward would 
 come ; but it would be soon, there would be no waiting, 
 no postponing where he was concerned. How different 
 this coming would be from the last time when he had 
 been a guest at the Hall, an honoured visitor. Now he 
 would come almost as an enemy, in fighting spirit, 
 knowing how unwelcome he would be to every one 
 but me. 
 
 I could not tell my mother. I would have to wait 
 until my courage was backed by his strength. 
 
 A week passed was he on the way ? A fortnight 
 [108]
 
 Marriage 
 
 I lived in a whirl of anticipation, I could hardly eat, I 
 could not keep still. Seventeen days passed was he 
 coming? I began to be afraid, to imagine all sorts of 
 terrible things which might have happened ; every ring 
 or knock set my heart beating was it he? 
 
 It was the morning of the eighteenth day when I 
 was called to the telephone " Is that Miss Margaret 
 Miller?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Margaret!" It was his voice, he had come! 
 Hardly could I keep myself from shouting aloud, from 
 blazing to every one the joy which flooded my veins. 
 " I'll meet you on the other side of the Mere," he said. 
 
 There was another path to it, leading round the out- 
 skirts of the village, so that no one would see him. 
 Secrecy added to my exultation. Before stealing out 
 I looked at myself in the mirror; had I altered? A 
 little perhaps, a little older-looking, but with my burn- 
 ing cheeks and glowing eyes I thought that he would 
 hardly see it. On, down the narrow path, past the 
 dark waters of the Mere which now could not menace 
 my happiness, another few yards and I should see 
 him. A sharp turn to the right, and I stopped a 
 moment to steady myself, for under the autumn-tinted 
 trees stood a figure, buoyant and youthful and vital 
 three of the things I had dreamed of in my lover. . . . 
 He sees me coming it is my lover! . . . 
 
 Later, when I had to face the ordeal of telling him 
 about Tom, about Sir Mark's help and the tragic end- 
 ing, I watched him eagerly, keenly, and thought that 
 
 [109]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 his face hardened. Somehow he did look a little older 
 and sterner, not quite so fresh and buoyant. Could it 
 be that one year's toil for achievement had already 
 made a subtle change? 
 
 Then I burst out with my further news " And 
 Meadowmere will be mine ! " 
 
 " Fine and dandy ! Isn't it a pity we can't transport 
 it bodily to America! " 
 
 " Why can't we live in it here ? " I asked boldly, but 
 with an inward tremor. 
 
 " It isn't yours yet." 
 
 " No, but it will be some day and meantime Father 
 wants a steward badly. Tom was going to help in 
 the management of the estate, and now that he has 
 gone, why can't you take it all over? I know Father 
 would agree, he would be glad to get rid of the detail." 
 
 " No, it couldn't be done! " He was still smiling. 
 
 Then I went on eagerly, trying to show him the 
 dreams I had had that morning on the hill-top. 
 " Won't you give me the thing I want best, next to 
 you? I wouldn't suggest it if Meadowmere wouldn't 
 one day be mine, but now that it will be, won't you stay 
 here? There is fine work to be done, work which 
 will help the people and then in time we shall live in 
 Meadowmere." ... A few seconds passed before I 
 could tell him the rest of my dream. 
 
 His face had set a little as I was pleading, but at 
 the thought of a child, it softened again and I saw 
 that look in his eyes which set my pulses throbbing. 
 I buried my face against his shoulder and for a mo- 
 
 [no]
 
 Marriage 
 
 ment he stood with his arms around me then in a low 
 voice he said, 
 
 " Margaret, I'd like to give you what you want, 
 but you remember what I said before. It would be no 
 use giving way and then feeling resentful ever after. 
 I must carve out my own life, I can't be beholden to 
 someone else for what would be a sort of sine- 
 cure " 
 
 " It wouldn't," I interrupted, " it would be real hard 
 work." 
 
 " But / shouldn't have gotten the job through my 
 merits; it would be because I happened to be the hus- 
 band of Miss Margaret Miller. Do you see? I want 
 to get what I finally achieve by my own efforts. There 
 is another thing; if I left my country and my father's 
 business, it would be a great blow to him. He is very 
 proud of me, and I am proud of him. He started 
 almost at the bottom but he has given me everything 
 and now I must do something for our name the name 
 that I hope our son will bear." His voice was very 
 soft and low, his arms tightened round me. " I don't 
 want you to think any the less of your own country, 
 but if you marry me you'll be marrying an American 
 we mustn't forget that." 
 
 I looked up into his face; there was no sign of yield- 
 ing. " Margaret ! Aren't you willing to give up 
 everything else for me ? " he asked passionately. 
 
 A storm of feeling shook me; after all nothing else 
 mattered, nothing but his love. " Yes ! " I whispered 
 and drawing down his head, I kissed him. 
 
 [in]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 " I know what you are giving up. It's a lot but I 
 will make you happy. That first time when you 
 seemed to be putting other things before me, I felt 
 proud and hurt, but since we have been separated, I 
 have come to understand a little of what all this must 
 mean to you, of how much you love this place. And 
 yet in spite of that I know that I can make you 
 happy." 
 
 " I know you can ! " I said proudly and at the mo- 
 ment Meadowmere did not seem to matter. . . . 
 
 But when I thought of the necessary interview with 
 Mother, I began to feel a qualm of anxiety " She will 
 be terribly angry. Won't you wait till the day after 
 to-morrow, when Father will be home again? " 
 
 " Wait, I should say not ! " he answered confidently, 
 " I have won you against long odds and I'm going to 
 keep you, so nothing else matters." 
 
 And I went home glorying in the thought of his 
 strength and confidence. 
 
 Under Mother's august mien, some of the glow van- 
 ished and I began to get more nervous until at a maid's 
 announcement, " Mr. Boynton wishes to see you, 
 ma'am," I could hardly breathe. 
 
 " Mr. Boynton! " said she in great surprise. " Mr. 
 Boynton I thought he was in America ! " 
 
 I dropped my head over the sewing in my lap, to 
 hide my rising colour, feeling very small and ashamed. 
 I wished that I had had more courage, or that she had 
 more love so that I could have told her everything in 
 the beginning. 
 
 [112]
 
 Marriage 
 
 She was smiling sweetly as she went to greet him. I 
 don't think he was a favourite with her, but it was her 
 policy to be nice to every one. There was a com- 
 municating door between the drawing-room and 
 mother's sitting-room where we had been sewing, so 
 that I could hear every word of their distinct voices. 
 I was divided between two intentions; to go away, 
 which would have been the right thing, or to stay 
 and I stayed. 
 
 " Mrs. Miller," Edward began without any pre- 
 amble, " I want to marry your daughter." 
 
 " I think there must be a mistake." Her voice 
 hardened. " My daughter is engaged to Sir Mark 
 Haselton." 
 
 " That's where the mistake is she doesn't love him, 
 she loves me." 
 
 " How can she she is engaged, you knew of this 
 engagement. Do you mean to say you have spoken of 
 this to her?" 
 
 " Yes I " 
 
 " How dare you make love to her in this secret 
 fashion ! " she broke in. " She is engaged to Sir Mark 
 Haselton, that finishes the matter." 
 
 " Not from my point of view," he said quietly. 
 
 " Your point of view doesn't count." 
 
 " Yes, it does to Margaret and me. She made a 
 mistake when she promised to marry Sir Mark, and 
 she has found it out in time. I have come to get your 
 consent to her marrying me after she has told Sir Mark 
 the truth." 
 
 [US]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 " I will not give it. You have behaved disgracefully 
 in speaking to her, when you were his friend " 
 
 His voice took on a fighting note " I did not intend 
 to speak to her, I scarcely realised how much I loved 
 her till it was all over. She refused me the first time 
 in her effort to be true to her promise, but we love each 
 other too much " 
 
 " I refuse my consent absolutely." 
 
 " Then we shall have to do without it." 
 
 I think that my mother must have been almost as 
 much amazed as she was angry that her imperious will 
 should be challenged in this direct way by this boy, 
 this stranger. 
 
 " Mrs. Miller," he went on and for the first time 
 there was impatience in his voice, " you can't forbid 
 your daughter to marry me. We love each other and I 
 am going to marry her." 
 
 " If you take her away from Sunnydale you will 
 rue it all your life!" she said with bitter emphasis. 
 " Perhaps you do not realise that she has never cared 
 for anything or any one as much as her home and all 
 that surrounds it." 
 
 " She does now ! " 
 
 " For the moment, possibly, but afterwards? " 
 
 " I am not afraid of afterwards. Won't you give 
 your consent? " 
 
 " No. She must carry out her promise to Sir Mark 
 Haselton." 
 
 " Then there is no use my staying good-bye," he 
 said as he went away. 
 
 [H4]
 
 Marriage 
 
 All that afternoon I waited for my mother to speak 
 to me, waited with trepidation, fearing her cold voice 
 and its scathing comments on my love. But she did 
 not even mention the interview. So she treated me as 
 a silly child, not worth an argument? Though her 
 attitude angered me, my courage failed me each time 
 I tried to broach the subject. 
 
 When Father came home I spoke to him, expecting 
 that he would sympathise with me, stating my case 
 eagerly because if he consented Mother would have to 
 give in. But I found him unsympathetic ; she had been 
 talking to him first. The only thing he seemed to think 
 of was the scandal and publicity. One child had failed 
 him, now another, the one he loved, wished to add to 
 his burden, bringing contempt upon the Miller name. 
 " I won't stand it," he said irritably. " You must keep 
 your promise to Sir Mark." . . . 
 
 " Edward ! " I said later, as I managed to steal out 
 
 to meet him by the Mere, " Edward, I'm " Then 
 
 as I saw him smile, " What's funny ? " 
 
 ' The ' Edward ' it brings back old memories of a 
 painful kind. The only time I heard it as a kid was 
 when trouble was coming after it. You know, they 
 just said ' Edward ! ' with a note of exclamation be- 
 hind it, and then I ran ! " 
 
 " You don't want me to call you that? " 
 
 " Well, it does sound kind of formal, doesn't it? " 
 
 " All right, Eddie," I agreed, smiling at my first 
 thought on hearing that abbreviation. Then remem- 
 bering my trouble, I went on seriously, " I'm afraid, 
 
 [US]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 they are all against me. I'm afraid they'll make me 
 marry Sir Mark. It's going to be terrible." 
 
 " Ain't she the darndest little coward ! " he said, but 
 his voice took away the sting, " Can't you stand up to 
 them?" 
 
 " It's not easy to stand up to Mother, she has a way 
 of silencing objections." 
 
 He thought for a few moments, his face set in the 
 firm line which appeared when he was fighting op- 
 position. Then it lighted up and his eyes were glow- 
 ing as he whispered, 
 
 " You'll have to run away ! " 
 
 " Run away ! " I whispered aghast, and yet with a 
 thrill inside me. 
 
 " Yes, I'll get a special license you see I have been 
 finding out all about it and it's quite a lot more difficult 
 to get married here than in good old New York," he 
 said ruefully. 
 
 " But a special license costs a lot of money ! " 
 
 " Never mind that will you do it ? " 
 
 With his arms around me, with his spirit giving me 
 courage, I felt capable of anything. " Yes," I 
 whispered. 
 
 And so he arranged that I should meet him in 
 London " that's next Thursday, a week from to-day, 
 and we will be married." 
 
 I was going to run away to be married ! Where was 
 
 the safe, uninteresting plain now ? "I used to be 
 
 afraid because my life seemed so safe, just like an 
 
 endless level plain, without a thrill. Now I'm a 
 
 [116]
 
 Marriage 
 
 little afraid because it seems suddenly full of preci- 
 pices ! " 
 
 " I hope the precipices don't mean marrying me," 
 he said humorously, " that's kind of crushing." 
 
 " Yes, they do," I answered very solemnly, " I'm 
 frightened because I love you so much, because I I 
 oh, I don't know." 
 
 The smile faded, his arms tightened around me. 
 And into his eyes there came a look, tender, glowing, 
 fierce, a look which filled me with fear and then with 
 a wonderful glorious happiness, and with his lips 
 against my hair, he whispered, " I am glad you love 
 me like that!" 
 
 And so we parted for a week, he to wait for me in 
 London " Where can I write to you ? " 
 
 " I will tell Martha," I whispered it seemed im- 
 possible to speak except in whispers in this new world 
 which was glowing around me " she will sympathise, 
 and you can write to me there." 
 
 One short little week and I shall be married, I 
 thought as I went home. I felt too happy, too excited 
 to have any doubts, to feel any remorse at deceiving 
 my parents. Everything that had previously ruled my 
 life had to stand out of the way of this dominating 
 love. 
 
 When Wednesday night came and I was in my room 
 for the last time, hearing the rustling of the trees, I 
 could not sleep. I sat by the window, looking into the 
 beautiful woods. My dreams had come true, and out 
 of them had come a voice of youth, to which I had
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 responded. But this time I did not bow my head in 
 shame for love had conquered every other feeling but 
 response. 
 
 At five o'clock next morning I stole out of the house. 
 Martha was down by the Mere to say good-bye and I 
 felt in it a mother's benediction. Waving to her, with 
 a choke in my throat, I walked slowly to the lane 
 which skirted the village, and wound round it to the 
 station, three miles away on the next rise. 
 
 For a moment I stopped and looked back over 
 Sunnydale, lying in the valley, to where in the dis- 
 tance I could see the hill-side on which stood Meadow- 
 mere, and my heart went out to the place in which I 
 had always lived. As I watched, a faint pale light 
 appeared in the sky, gradually parting the dark grey- 
 ness. The sun was rising. Another day was dawning. 
 It was strange to be going away like this, to be walk- 
 ing to the train, to have no one with me for the first 
 time in my life. This simple act of independence 
 seemed to be more vivid than what I was doing, for 
 although I kept saying, " I am running away to be 
 married," the words scarcely had a meaning, they 
 sounded too impossible for belief. 
 
 The train came in and ignoring the surprise on the 
 station master's face, I jumped in and huddled myself 
 in a corner, feeling very small and helpless. As it 
 started I tried to realise that I had left my former life 
 behind, that soon I should no longer be Miss Margaret 
 Miller of Meadowmere, but the wife of an American. 
 
 And then suddenly as I was whispering good-bye, 
 [118]
 
 Marriage 
 
 the sun appeared over the hill-top, flooding the .valley 
 in a pale soft light, and with a thrilling heart, the sense 
 of vagueness vanished. 
 
 I was going to him! I was glad to be leaving all 
 for him! A glorious day was going to dawn; this 
 burst of sunshine was an emblem of the life before us.
 
 Chapter Five 
 
 WHEN I got out of the train at Euston and found 
 myself in the roar and bustle of the busy 
 station, I again felt a lonely and insignificant atom, but 
 in a moment my hands were in Eddie's strong grip and 
 immediately his touch awoke the emotional excitement 
 which made me capable of any daring. 
 
 " This all your baggage ? " he asked smiling gently. 
 
 " This " was a small, forlorn looking suitcase and 
 as I nodded, looking up at him, my eyes clouded. 
 Quite suddenly I realised that I was going to be mar- 
 ried without having anything in the way of fine clothes, 
 or money to buy them only the suit I wore which was 
 moderately new and the few things I had been able to 
 crush into a suitcase. My vague dreams of being a 
 bride clad in the laces and silks I had pictured as the 
 necessary and rightful atmosphere were focussed by a 
 bitter disappointment. I was going to be married and 
 I had nothing but the very simple clothes which Mar- 
 garet Miller always wore ! 
 
 Perhaps Eddie noticing the disappearance of the 
 smile which had greeted him, thought that it was 
 due to fear or regret, for as we drove away from the 
 station he sat so silently and stiffly that the feeling of 
 forlornness and strangeness was emphasised by a 
 [ 120]
 
 Marriage 
 
 sense of his aloofness, by a vague enormous distance 
 which separated us. Then as we turned into a quiet 
 street, with an abrupt, almost rough gesture, he put 
 his arm around me and kissed me, and I forgot every- 
 thing but the intimate sense of unity, of having no 
 separate will, no individual existence. When he raised 
 his head, I saw with startled awe that his eyes were 
 not quite dry and immediately the intoxicating sense of 
 his power over me which had been so complete the 
 moment before, faded into a tenderness which was al- 
 most painful. No protestation, nothing that he could 
 have done would have touched me so deeply as this 
 unconscious evidence of the strength of his love. I 
 felt humbled and yet triumphant. 
 
 We were married in a church which stands in an 
 island in the traffic of the Strand, which has been left 
 there, as it were, a lonely sentinel against the encroach- 
 ing " busyness." In its empty spaces, I was conscious 
 of a sense of detachment, my thoughts straying to the 
 people who had been married under its roof, to the 
 children who had been christened there, to the last 
 services which had been read over their bodies; an 
 innumerable procession making the present seem un- 
 important, passing, insignificant. Then without se- 
 quence my thoughts went to my imaginary dreams of 
 my wedding day, the white flowers, the music, the 
 minister who had held me as a baby, the crowds of 
 people who had known me just so long as I had lived, 
 wishing me happiness vague dreams so different 
 from this reality. 
 
 [121]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 A decrepit, incredibly ancient man who was ap- 
 parently the sexton and a woman who might have been 
 a cleaner were the necessary witnesses. The sound of 
 the minister's voice was peculiarly loud, yet the 
 words he uttered which were to alter my whole future 
 fell on my ears vaguely; in the unusual silence of the 
 empty church behind us there was something so un- 
 familiar that it brought a sense of irreverence, almost 
 of indecency. And then my wandering thoughts were 
 concentrated by the touch of Eddie's hands. 
 
 As we walked out of the church, he crushed my 
 fingers, whispering gaily, triumphantly, " And so they 
 were married ! " 
 
 " And lived happily ever after," I echoed in the same 
 tone. 
 
 His face set into solemnity. " Oh, Margaret, you 
 must be happy. I have taken you away from every- 
 thing, you must be happy ! " 
 
 " Of course I shall be ! " I answered, vagueness and 
 doubts vanishing into increasing confidence. " Where 
 are we going now ? " 
 
 " For lunch first, and after don't you want to 
 spend some money? " 
 
 "Oh, Eddie, I can go and buy some clothes? " 
 
 " Why, sure ! " He laughed delightfully, as my 
 lingering disappointment over the poverty of my outfit 
 faded into an intense delight which I did not try to 
 hide. How ' understanding ' he was, how generous 
 and thoughtful! That he was even more than gener- 
 ous, almost prodigal in the spending of money I rea- 
 
 [122]
 
 Marriage 
 
 lised when we sat down to the splendid lunch he had 
 ordered, and in a moment when the waiter's back was 
 turned, I whispered fearfully, " Aren't we being too 
 extravagant? " 
 
 He laughed again. " Gosh, what would you have ? 
 A fellow don't get married every day." 
 
 When we had eaten, there was a taxi waiting for 
 us. " Now you go ahead and buy just what you want, 
 but as you value your life don't ask me to come into 
 the stores with you. I'll sit in the taxi and medi- 
 tate." 
 
 "You're going to keep it waiting?" I asked sur- 
 prisedly. 
 
 " Sure, what else would you do? " He seemed just 
 as much surprised. 
 
 " It seems extravagant," I answered lamely, thinking 
 of the standards of Sunnydale. And as he lavishly 
 poured money into my purse I was still more amazed 
 at this generous expenditure. He must be far richer 
 than I had imagined, I thought joyously, but too shy 
 to risk a question. 
 
 Passionately grateful for his generosity and thought- 
 fulness, I went off to my purchase of clothes. It was 
 a novel and delightful experience to buy just what I 
 liked without the tie of Mother's dampening sugges- 
 tions. I revelled in soft, dainty, exquisite clothes such 
 as I had dreamed about and never owned. 
 
 And thus it was that Margaret Boynton was not un- 
 beautified as she looked in the mirror that night, re- 
 joicing in the sight of the small fairy-like figure, with 
 
 [123]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 brilliant shining eyes, radiant, triumphant. Without 
 regret, with scarcely a passing thought for the years 
 which had gone or the people I had known, I said good- 
 bye to my girlhood, and passionately stretched out my 
 arms to the future. 
 
 [124]
 
 Chapter Six 
 
 WE had wired to Father and Mother as soon as 
 we were married and next day I wrote them a 
 long letter, asking for their forgiveness, trying to ex- 
 plain why I had had to hurt them, how I had tried to 
 keep my old promise and how everything had been 
 unavailing before this new force. " We are going to 
 sail for America in two weeks," I added. " Oh, please 
 come and say good-bye to me, or let me come to 
 Meadowmere." 
 
 At first it seemed as though I had no thoughts or 
 memories, only emotions, only the sense of the breath- 
 less happiness which I had wanted with my whole 
 being. But in the content of possessing it, I began to 
 have time to be sorry for hurting Father so much. As 
 I thought of him alone in his study, all the structure 
 of his hopes and dreams fallen in a mass around him, 
 I knew a keen remorse and a desire for his forgiveness 
 which grew into longing as the days went by and no 
 word came. Even the memory of the long years of 
 Mother's coldness was less keen than that of those 
 months when I had been of use to her. 
 
 And in the beginning of the second week, when 
 Eddie had to attend to some business and I was left 
 
 [125]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 alone for a few hours in the big hotel, I thought 
 further of what was coming. 
 
 In a few days I should have left England, I should 
 have turned my back on Meadowmere, on Sunnydale 
 and all the things I had known and loved. The 
 strength of the force which had won me away from 
 them amazed me; and with that came a thought of the 
 vow which two girls had made against a background 
 of roses. In a few days I should be going to a new 
 land, among strange people. In the whole of that 
 vast continent I should not know one single man, 
 woman or child; except my husband not one human 
 being would recognise me amid a crowd. And to me 
 who had always lived in the one place where strange 
 faces were the rare exception, the idea began to grow 
 until I was conscious of a sense of panic. How ter- 
 rible it would be to walk along strange streets and 
 never meet a face which would light up with love or 
 friendship for me. In the few hours when I was alone 
 this homesick feeling became so strong that I was 
 afraid of it and pathetically set about a denial of its 
 existence. But always when Eddie was with me such 
 thoughts faded into the midst of things which did not 
 count, and I chided myself for being foolish and 
 childish. 
 
 And thus when Eddie said one morning that he had 
 a business interview which would last till lunch time, 
 I determined that I would not sit alone, nursing this 
 growing sense of panic, but would plunge into the 
 publicity of the lounge and wait for him there. It was 
 [126]
 
 Marriage 
 
 the first time I had had the courage to enter the vast 
 pillared space by myself, for the self-consciousness 
 which I thought school had effectively conquered had 
 been brought into evidence again by the crowds of 
 strangers and the novelty of staying in a large and 
 fashionable hotel. My previous experiences of a 
 London hotel had been a queer old-fashioned place 
 near Oxford Street, where every one knew Father and 
 which was quite unexciting and homelike. Here I 
 could not get away from the feeling that people were 
 watching me and the knowledge that I had run away 
 to be married would somehow communicate itself to 
 them. 
 
 I glanced around self-consciously and met the eye 
 of a middle-aged nice-looking man who was appar- 
 ently aware of me. In the midst of the unconscious, 
 frigid glances which seemed to deny my existence, his 
 half -smiling look was delightful. My face was simi- 
 larly relaxing when a bell boy came through the lounge 
 and with a jumping heart I realised that his sing-song 
 voice was calling, 
 
 " Mrs. Edward Boynton ! " then a pause " Mrs. 
 Edward Boynton ! " 
 
 I sat rooted to my chair, moments, seeming like 
 hours, passing before I had courage to speak out and 
 claim my new name. 
 
 It was a special-delivery letter; it was from Sir 
 Mark. I forgot the kindly stranger, as instinct sent 
 me to my room for its perusal because I had not yet 
 attained the habit of feeling alone in a crowd. 
 
 [127]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 Tears gathered in my eyes as I read the well-known 
 writing and a sense of communion with the things 
 that had been made the present momentarily dream- 
 like. 
 
 " I only returned to Sunnydale yesterday," Mark 
 wrote, " to find that you had gone, and as I hear you 
 will be sailing in a few days, I am hurrying this letter 
 to you to wish you much happiness, and to send you 
 my wedding present I think you will like to have 
 this link with. Sunny dale, and I hope it will convey to 
 you the message I want to send that the bitterness 
 with which I first heard your news has gradually 
 faded, and that now I can think of you as the little girl 
 I used to know, who was and is my friend, and who 
 has found a happiness which I ought to have realised 
 a man of my age could not give to the young vital 
 thing she is. 
 
 " With all good wishes to you and your husband, 
 
 " Your sincere friend, 
 " MARK." 
 
 A paper had fluttered on to the ground and with 
 tears running down my cheeks, I picked it up. It was 
 a piece of parchment on which were many flourishes 
 and finally, amid saids and aforesaids and inasmuches, 
 I grasped the truth it was a deed giving the owner- 
 ship of six cottages at Sunnydale to Mrs. Edward 
 Boynton. 
 
 Oh, Mark, Mark, I understand! But what new 
 wisdom is it which makes me wonder whether it were 
 not better that there should not be a link with Sunny- 
 [128]
 
 Marriage 
 
 dale, whether it were not better that I should forget 
 that part of my life for fear it might fight with the 
 new? 
 
 On the next page there was a postscript reading 
 " If you wish it, my steward, who as you know is 
 honest and in sympathy with the people, would look 
 after the cottages for you and you could pay him a 
 small percentage for his trouble." 
 
 Still the same thoughtful Mark ! When Eddie came 
 in and saw the traces of tears on my face, " Hello," 
 he said anxiously, " Crying? What's up? " 
 
 I handed him the letter and as he read his face 
 settled into a wooden expression which hid all feeling. 
 
 "Isn't he awfully kind, Eddie?" I exclaimed 
 eagerly. 
 
 " So now you are a landowner, Margaret! " was all 
 he answered. 
 
 "You don't mind?" 
 
 " I should say not. By the way I have an invitation 
 for you." 
 
 " An invitation ! " I echoed in surprise. 
 
 " Yes, to dinner with Mr. and Mrs. Robert Hasel- 
 ton." 
 
 " Why how funny of him to ask us," I said thought- 
 lessly. 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " I mean well, he is Sir Mark's brother, and " 
 
 " What difference does that make ? I am doing a 
 lot of business with him while I am here, and he prob- 
 ably looks upon it just as business courtesy. Besides 
 
 [129]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 he was awfully good to me when I was here the first 
 time." 
 
 " Yes, but that was before " 
 
 " But that's nothing to do with him" 
 
 " But it has it ought to have, it's his brother, it's 
 part of his family." 
 
 My husband laughed. " Oh, that terrible ' family ' 
 of yours! If your brother had been beaten up in a 
 fair fight, you surely wouldn't hate the man who'd 
 done it?" 
 
 " I certainly wouldn't like him. You see it would 
 be my brother who was beaten and I would feel I 
 ought to stick to his side out of loyalty." 
 
 " What a corking member of a vendetta you'd 
 make! You'll find though that your attitude won't 
 work in modern life." 
 
 " No, I shan't," I answered stubbornly, " I think a 
 family ought to stick together and defend one 
 another." 
 
 " All right," said he, ending the argument with a 
 kiss, " now let's go and eat." 
 
 We found Mr. Robert Haselton and his handsome 
 wife in a pretty house in the west of London. It was 
 not very large compared with our houses in the coun- 
 try, but its flower-filled window boxes, its fresh paint 
 and gleaming knocker gave it a cheerful air outside, 
 and it was furnished with a quiet elegance which made 
 it very comfortable and homelike. 
 
 On the few occasions when I had seen Mr. Haselton 
 at Sunnydale I had never liked him, now I liked him 
 
 [ 130]
 
 Marriage 
 
 still less. He was totally different from Sir Mark. 
 He had an easy worldly sort of manner, and behind it 
 he always seemed to be laughing at people. As he 
 greeted me there was some satire in his smile which 
 made me blush and feel young and stupid; there was 
 something in his manner which seemed to penetrate 
 the beautiful glamour with which this precious new 
 love was sheathed. 
 
 "If you ever come to New York on business, don't 
 forget it's the place which holds us," was my husband's 
 parting remark. " I'll send you our private address 
 later." 
 
 As Mr. Haselton bowed over my hand, saying, " I 
 certainly won't forget," I again had the feeling that 
 my love was lying bare under his satiric worldly blue 
 eyes. " I don't like him a bit," I remarked to Eddie 
 later, but he only laughed. 
 
 "Why, I think he's fine!" 
 
 The day before our sailing date came and there was 
 still no word from Father! I sent him another tele- 
 gram telling him the time of the train on which we 
 were going up to Liverpool, and begging him to come 
 and see us off " it will be unbearable going away 
 without saying good-bye ! " 
 
 I looked eagerly amid the crowds which were gath- 
 ered on the landing stage to see the liner sail and just 
 as I was disappointedly about to give up the search, I 
 saw my father, standing a little apart, dignified, alone. 
 A lump came into my throat at the sight of his tall 
 thin figure as I thought how sad he must feel at the
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 frustration of all his plans for the future. But he 
 greeted me with his ordinary quiet manner and I could 
 not make out how he felt as he shook hands with Eddie 
 in a matter-of-fact way. We were so surrounded by 
 people that I could not even ask him if he forgave me; 
 it was like a meeting between passing acquaintances. 
 
 " I have straightened out the question of Meadow- 
 mere, Margaret," he said in the momentary intimacy 
 of an inspection of our state room, " when the time 
 comes for you to inherit it, there will be no difficulties. 
 I suppose you will both come back then? " 
 
 I glanced at my husband would he, I wondered, 
 would he ever give way? If only I could have that to 
 look forward to, the future would not hold a cloud. 
 I could not help smiling inwardly at the suspicion that 
 Father thought Meadowmere had been an influence in 
 Eddie's choice, while all the time I knew my husband 
 would have been rather relieved if the whole inheri- 
 tance had vanished into space. Then as I saw the 
 sadness of my father's face, I grasped his hand, 
 
 " I don't know, but don't let's think of the future. 
 You are there now, Father, and Meadowmere still has 
 its ' Squi-er.' Sir Mark's bailiff is going to look after 
 my cottages you know about them, don't you? " I 
 asked, a little shyly. 
 
 " Yes, Mark told me. He's a splendid man." 
 
 Though I agreed in my heart, it was rather embar- 
 rassing to have his praise sung before my husband, 
 and for the moment I was glad that the cry went up 
 of " Visitors to the Shore ! " Then the thought that I 
 
 [132]
 
 Marriage 
 
 was leaving my father broke through my reserve and 
 I kissed him passionately, sorrow tightening my throat. 
 
 A last handshake a last word, " Give my love to 
 Mother and to Tom when you write," and we were 
 parted. Slowly the steamer left its moorings and I 
 saw him standing there alone. 
 
 Poor, poor Father! The force of old associations 
 brought a keener remorse for disappointing him. Tom 
 first, then me, now it must seem as though no child 
 were left to him. 
 
 I was alone as we sailed down the river in the grey 
 November evening, for Eddie had gone to look after 
 table-seats and chairs. As I watched the coast line 
 gradually disappear in the surrounding darkness, 
 memories, hopes, dreams, so intimately connected with 
 the place I loved, were tugging at my heart till it 
 seemed as though some dissolution must take place, 
 part of me sailing on and on over this smooth water, 
 while another part, a vital one, remained behind. As 
 I strained my eyes to catch the last glimpse of the 
 shore, as I looked until I could not tell which was shore 
 or sky or sea, a pain gathered round my heart, 
 stifling me. 
 
 I scarcely felt my husband's touch as he came up 
 and grasped my hand, till his low words brought me 
 back, " I will make you happy, dear, and soon you'll 
 be mighty proud of your new country. It's so big 
 and wonderful! " 
 
 I looked at him vaguely, thinking how stupid he was 
 to praise the new country when my heart was being 
 
 [133]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 torn by love of the old. For a moment I lost the sense 
 of intimacy so that it seemed as though there stood 
 an enemy whose strength had forced me away from the 
 place I loved. 
 
 I was startled by this glimpse of a strange woman, 
 antagonistic, critical, resentful, even though she 
 changed so swiftly into the woman I knew whose pas- 
 sionate love for the man by her side absorbed every 
 other feeling. The passing glimpse suggested terrify- 
 ing possibilities, .for in my absorption in my happiness 
 and emotion the thought of such a moment of 
 estrangement had never entered. It was like the sud- 
 den discovery that the delicate flowers of a plant which 
 seem altogether beautiful hold a deadly poison; we 
 may escape it and yet the very knowledge of its pres- 
 ence makes a faint menacing shadow in the former 
 perfection. 
 
 With a shiver I put the memory of the moment out 
 of my mind, and slipping my hand through Eddie's 
 arm, silently watched the darkening horizon before we 
 went down to dinner. 
 
 The water exercised a peaceful soothing spell which 
 made the future seem as far away as the past. What 
 did anything matter so long as the breeze blew and the 
 salt spray lashed one's face, and every one just ate 
 and slept and loitered, leaving their energy in pawn till 
 they reached New York ! Eddie found a man he knew 
 with whom he had endless business discussions and as 
 I lay in my deck chair lazily watching the smooth green 
 mass pass by, scraps of their conversation floated to 
 
 [134]
 
 Marriage 
 
 me, leaving words or phrases in my memory which 
 meant nothing and which yet caught my interest 
 " Dollars stocks good business margins . . . that 
 would cost a wad of greenbacks ..." When we 
 were together I tried to get enlightenment on these 
 puzzles. 
 
 " What is a wad of greenbacks? " 
 
 " Dollars, piles of dollars." 
 
 " And margins? " 
 
 " Why, kiddie, you don't want to worry your pretty 
 head about such things, they are to do with stocks, 
 but you wouldn't be interested." 
 
 " Why not ? You seem to find it all very inter- 
 esting." 
 
 " Gee, I have to, as I'm the money-spinner; it's part 
 of my life." 
 
 "I see!" But vaguely I felt that I did not see. 
 Why should there be such a division line? If it were 
 part of his life, must it not be part of mine, now that 
 our lives were bound together? But I was too lazy 
 and peaceful to bother just then. 
 
 When we began to get near enough to New York 
 for the old travellers to bethink themselves of the story 
 about the Statue of Liberty, of which Eddie said there 
 were a hundred variations around the one centre-piece 
 and for these same old travellers to begin to argue 
 as to what they could see, or could not see, and whether 
 that was Long Beach, or the Rockaways, and when 
 Coney would be in sight, and how soon we could dock, 
 I began to have a sinking of the heart. How I 
 
 [1351
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 envied these people to whom these places meant that 
 they were nearing home. The week on the ocean had 
 been a sort of breathing spell, but now that I was so 
 near the new life I knew again a sense of panic. What 
 would Eddie's people be like? Would they like me? 
 Would I find a friend in his sister, Maisie, who was 
 about my own age and who had just been married? 
 
 The peace which had been with us was broken by a 
 suppressed excitement; people who had been willing 
 to stay and chat about nothing at all now began to 
 fuss over luggage, to become important and busy and 
 bustling. We were going to land soon the thing was 
 done we had landed, and I was stepping on the soil 
 of my new homeland. 
 
 Such wavings and greetings, such jests and merri- 
 ment, so much friendship and intimacy! I felt very 
 lonely and then I saw Eddie step forward and grasp 
 the hand of a tall thin man and disappear in the em- 
 brace of a short, stout woman, whose appearance, 
 naturally motherly, was in complete contrast to her 
 fashionable clothes. A pretty girl, also smartly 
 dressed, kissed him in a casual manner and immedi- 
 ately I was introduced these were my new rela- 
 tions. 
 
 I liked Mr. Boynton. He had a twinkle in his keen 
 eyes and there was something strong and reassuring in 
 his handshake. But Mrs. Boynton made me nervous ; 
 she was so friendly, so jovial, kissing me as though I 
 were an only daughter returning to her arms. If she 
 had been shy and distant, I could have understood, my 
 
 [136]
 
 Marriage 
 
 own feelings would have given me the clue, but as it 
 was I wondered what would happen when she really 
 got to know me. 
 
 " Maisie, you look after your new sister while 
 popper and I help Ed with the baggage ! " 
 
 I turned hopefully to Maisie, longing for a com- 
 panion in all this strangeness. But she gave me a cool 
 little smile, and she looked so much older than I had 
 expected, so much at ease, so smart and self-possessed 
 that I felt very young and stupid beside her. In the 
 latter respect she probably agreed for after a few 
 moments she began to look around her with a bored 
 and indifferent air. 
 
 Presently I saw her eyes brighten as a thin young 
 man came into view. " Why, here's Clarrie ! " she said, 
 and walked off to meet him. I was left alone in the 
 midst of this endless confusion, watching the reunion 
 of families, the gesticulating over baggage as it was 
 wheeled about by swarthy porters, while the shouting 
 expressmen tried to secure it for their respective com- 
 panies. What a terrible noise there was ! 
 
 As Maisie and her companion came back I was 
 " asked to meet Mr. Clarence Wood." I blushed, for 
 the name of Maisie's husband was Whiting and until 
 this moment I had supposed that this young man was 
 he. Who was this Mr. Wood who was greeted with a 
 familiar " Hello, Clarrie ! " by the others as they joined 
 us, who put us into a taxi, explaining that " Jack, Mr. 
 Whiting, couldn't get away from the office, but hoped 
 we would excuse him." 
 
 [137]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 I would have excused anything for we had been up 
 since five o'clock and the racket and confusion had 
 given me a headache that made things swirl around me. 
 In the midst of these strangers who claimed intimate 
 relationship with my husband, I felt that he too had 
 receded into the distance and become one with this 
 strangeness, leaving me alone amid it all. 
 
 " You're tired, poor thing! Up early, I know," said 
 Mrs. Boynton with a soothing air. " Well, well, just 
 wait a bit, she won't be tired in a few minutes, will 
 she, Popper? " 
 
 " I should say not ! " said Popper, with a wink at 
 Eddie, who glanced quickly at me. There was an air 
 of expectancy about the three of them and I won- 
 dered vaguely what the mystery was all about. Maisie 
 continued to look bored. After a little while the taxi 
 stopped, and I saw that we were in a wide street with 
 enormous blocks of stone buildings on either side. We 
 went up some steps sentinelled by two pillars holding 
 branching electric lights through marble halls, car- 
 petted with lovely Turkish rugs, to a lift by which 
 stood a man in uniform. 
 
 " Is this a hotel ?" I asked. 
 
 " Hotel ! " and more nods and winks " Hotel ! 
 I should say it wasn't ! " In my present mood the 
 mystery irritated me, but I was too tired to ask what 
 it was and we shot up and up and then stopped with 
 a jerk which seemed to leave most of me still travel- 
 ling upwards through the roof. 
 
 Mr. Boynton produced a key, opened a door and 
 
 [138]
 
 Marriage 
 
 then his wife, with an air of pride, preceded us and 
 flung it back. " Welcome home ! " she said. 
 
 " Is this where you live? " I asked, secretly amazed 
 that any one could live so far away from Mother 
 Earth. 
 
 She began to chuckle. "Where we live! I guess 
 not, this is where two young people I know are going 
 to live." 
 
 " Eddie ! " I stammered, and stopped. For he was 
 looking around him with pride and delight shining in 
 his eyes. 
 
 " Why, Mother, what a gorgeous place you've made. 
 Margaret, this is our wedding present from Father and 
 Mother. They've furnished it and fixed it up for us. 
 We thought it would be a nice surprise for you. Isn't 
 it a dandy home? " 
 
 Home! perched up on the side of this enormous 
 building, furnished and fixed by some one else home, 
 this intense newness of furniture, pictures, rugs, paint, 
 all glaring spotlessly and everything set in just the 
 right place without a garden, without a house. And 
 part of my dreams had been the getting together of our 
 home, the buying of a suite for the dining-room, the 
 important decision as to whether the bedroom should 
 be pink or blue the lingering over rugs and carpets, 
 the picking out of a comfortable chair for Eddie, in 
 which he could smoke after dinner as we sat around 
 the fire. Fire! I couldn't even see a fire-place, the 
 buying of pepper boxes, mustard pots, frying pans, 
 spoons and forks, all the funny little things which 
 
 [139]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 would be part of our lives and an intimate part because 
 of the thought and care with which they had gradually 
 been selected and bought. The thought and care and 
 love which go to make a home ! And instead a made 
 home which I had not even helped to choose, finished to 
 the last tack, the last picture. 
 
 I heard Mr. Boynton's voice as though from a dis- 
 tance 
 
 " We thought it would be fine to have it all ready 
 and save you all the trouble." 
 
 I found my lips trembling and with a tremendous 
 effort I tried to think only of their kindness, tried to 
 make my mind blank over my intense disappointment 
 so that it might not overflow and spoil this home- 
 coming. They were so proud, my husband was de- 
 lighted. I realised their generosity but the sense of 
 finality which is so desolating overcame my resolu- 
 tion my home was made, nothing could undo it, my 
 dreams were smashed for ever a sob rose, then an- 
 other and another and I was weeping audibly over the 
 polished table. 
 
 Eddie led me into the bedroom and patting my 
 shoulder he tried to soothe me " There, there, 
 you're all in. It's mighty nice of them, isn't 
 it?" 
 
 So he thought that was the reason thank heaven. 
 Not for worlds would I undeceive him or seem un- 
 grateful for their kind thought and soon I was able 
 to dry my eyes and thank Mr. and Mrs. Boynton for 
 their lovely present. A few minutes after a trim maid 
 
 1 140 ]
 
 Marriage 
 
 served luncheon to us even my servant had been 
 chosen ! 
 
 " Eddie," I said when they had gone, " wouldn't it 
 have been possible to get a little house with a little 
 garden? " 
 
 " Gee, not in New York," he answered laughing, 
 " not unless I were almost a millionaire which I'm not, 
 worse luck. Such things are luxuries in New York." 
 
 " But why must it be in New York? " 
 
 " Because I have to be on the spot, it takes too long 
 to get in from the suburbs." 
 
 " I see. I'm afraid I'll never get used to living so 
 near heaven, and I will miss the garden at home." 
 
 " I'll buy you lots of flowers." 
 
 " I wasn't thinking so much of them, but of the 
 pottering about and digging and growing things, in 
 my little plot." 
 
 " You shall have another some day," he said confi- 
 dently. 
 
 As we were spending the first evening in our new 
 home, it again occurred to me that I did not know 
 how much we had to spend, nor how much my hus- 
 band earned ; my dreamy mind had been only too 
 willing to put such mundane matters out of the happi- 
 ness of our honeymoon. Now they must be faced, yet 
 I wished he would make an opening for it seemed such 
 a personal matter to question him about! 
 
 " Eddie," I broke out after fidgetting for some time, 
 " is your father very rich? " 
 
 "Rich, I should say not. In fact, just at pres- 
 
 [141]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 ent I guess he'd probably say he was a bit short. For 
 my college career and travel cost a heap and then 
 Maisie's marriage must have run away with the 
 
 dollars, and besides " He stopped abruptly and 
 
 glanced at me. 
 
 " Besides " 
 
 " Oh nothing." 
 
 " But you must have spent an awful lot when we 
 were in London, at that grand hotel, and then coming 
 over. You're always so so generous." 
 
 He whistled " Some was borrowed and some was 
 lent, a little was saved, but all was spent. But we 
 had a good time though, didn't we? " 
 
 " Do you mean you borrowed some of that money 
 that we have nothing saved? " I asked startled by 
 the idea. 
 
 " Saved ! " he grimaced. " We don't make money to 
 save it, we make it to spend. We're mighty good 
 spenders and I guess we like the best of everything. 
 And Dad's always ready with a helping hand, he knows 
 I'll make good." 
 
 " I thought we must have lots of money," I said 
 soberly. 
 
 " No, but I hope we can jog along. Dad's giving me 
 $3,000 now. He's been dandy to me and soon I hope 
 I'll be earning more. I make a bit now and then on 
 the market had a grand splurge before I went over 
 for you, and now I'm sure to be even luckier. Don't 
 you think we can manage? " he asked smiling. 
 
 " I haven't the slightest idea." I was relieved at his 
 [ 142 ]
 
 Marriage 
 
 frankness, but still thinking of the expenditure of a 
 sum of money which my training demanded as a sav- 
 ing for a rainy day. " I don't know what things cost 
 here." 
 
 " A darned sight too much for a husband's peace of 
 mind. But I'm on the watch for a big job, I can 
 tell you, then " 
 
 I started " Do you mean you would leave your 
 father?" 
 
 " Sure, when the right opening comes ! " 
 
 "But I thought you couldn't leave him?" The 
 words slipped out as I remembered that was part of 
 the reason he gave for not living in Sunnydale. At 
 the time I had hugged it to me as the chief part, for 
 the feeling that it was fine and right of him to want 
 to remain with his father made up for the little hurt 
 to my pride that he wouldn't make the sacrifice I 
 wanted. 
 
 " Oh, of course, I couldn't have left him altogether 
 alone. But he wouldn't want to stand in the way of 
 my getting a big job and making good, he's not like 
 your old smith." His voice was casual; he did not 
 realise how important it was ! For it was the first time 
 since he had refused to live in Sunnydale that I had 
 questioned his decision. Pride raised its head again 
 so his father had only been an excuse. Again the an- 
 tagonistic critical woman obscured the pliable one, who 
 had been so easy to soothe deceive. 
 
 But as he came over to my chair with a whispered, 
 
 " Isn't it bully being alone together in our own 
 
 [143]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 home ! " his hands slipped down over my shoulders, 
 holding me tightly, and thought passed into sen- 
 sation. 
 
 Nevertheless out of the emotion of happiness, the 
 faint shadow of his confession emerged, lingering in 
 the background, unobtrusive, but alive. 
 
 " Well, old lady," said Eddie next morning at break- 
 fast, " I'll have to get back on my job again. I hope 
 you won't be lonely." 
 
 " No," I smiled, " I'm going to inspect every nook 
 and corner and see just what we possess." 
 
 In the middle of the inspection I heard a jovial 
 voice and Mrs. Boynton came in. " I thought you 
 might be feeling strange," she said cheerfully, " so I 
 came to see if I could do anything." 
 
 " You're very kind, but I think there isn't a thing, 
 you had everything so spic and span." 
 
 I tried to make my voice cordial, but perhaps it was 
 a failure for she went on confidentially, 
 
 " Don't think I'm going to snoop around or act the 
 heavy mother. I believe in leaving young people to 
 work out their own life's history. But you being a 
 stranger well, I didn't want you to feel kind of lone- 
 some. But if there's nothing, guess I'll beat it." 
 
 And then I knew from whom Eddie inherited his 
 quick power of reading thoughts, for with a laugh 
 which pealed out in sheer merriment, she went on, " I 
 can see you're thinking I'm the limit, the way I talk! 
 It's that Eddie, he uses all this slang and I copy it, just 
 can't help it. I'm a regular mimic, I am. But you'll 
 
 [144]
 
 Marriage 
 
 get used to me in time. And I hope we'll be real 
 friends." 
 
 Against my instinct of reserve, almost against my 
 will, something behind her merry eyes and kindly 
 smile appealed to me " I hope we will," I answered 
 shyly but with complete sincerity. 
 
 [1451
 
 BOOK FOUR: THE NEW COUNTRY
 
 BOOK FOUR: THE NEW COUNTRY 
 
 Chapter One 
 
 MY first week in New York City was a maze of 
 new experiences in which I tried to accustom 
 myself to strange sensations. Perhaps the chief of 
 them was that " going home " meant stepping into a 
 lift (or elevator as I learned to call it) and being shot 
 up towards the skies; I hoped it was a good omen! 
 Another was the inward tremor I felt when my tram- 
 car (which I found hidden under the alias of trolley) 
 gaily proceeded in exactly the opposite direction to 
 that I expected it to take. It was only after several 
 such unfortunate experiences that my dreamy mind 
 endurably grasped the fact that traffic ran on the right- 
 hand side of the street instead of on the left. There 
 were also many new delights such as cold drinks and 
 ice boxes and a climate which was sufficiently certain 
 of its intentions to make the formerly inevitable pres- 
 ence of an umbrella unnecessary, even insulting. 
 
 The proud confidence of the tall slim buildings 
 filled me with admiration, so did the amazing blue- 
 ness of the sky and the vividness of the sunshine. No 
 wonder Eddie had teased me that we did not know 
 what sunshine was, for over here Mr. Sun was a dif- 
 
 C 149 ]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 ferent being; he shone confidently, dazzlingly, as if he 
 meant it, in violent contrast to the dignity of his oc- 
 casional appearance and the reserved nature of his ef- 
 forts on the other side. 
 
 A few days after our arrival the Boyntons gave a 
 dinner party in our honour. Besides Eddie and I, the 
 guests included Maisie and her husband, Clarrie, who 
 seemed to be a sort of family pet, two other young 
 couples and two unattached men and girls. Ap- 
 p^rently everybody knew each other very well, I was 
 the only stranger. 
 
 Almost as soon as we sat down, I was conscious that 
 behind Mrs. Boynton's smile there was some purpose, 
 she seemed to be waiting for what? In a lull in the 
 merriment, she rapped the table. 
 
 " Now, folks, I want you to drink the healths of my 
 Eddie and his cute little English bride. Very proud 
 of him, I am and her too, for she gave up being a fine 
 lady was it a Duchess, Ed ? all to marry my Eddie," 
 and with a beaming face she raised her glass and 
 nodded and smiled all round. 
 
 And every one nodded and drank our healths. Most 
 of them were smiling, looking at me, I imagined, with 
 curiosity, though Maisie looked disapprovingly at her 
 mother after she had glanced hastily in my direction. 
 
 For my face had crimsoned with mortification, and 
 a quick distaste for her words hardened my heart 
 against her, even tarnishing for the moment my feel- 
 ing for Eddie, because she was his mother. Beyond 
 distaste was a feeling that in listening to them with- 
 
 [ISO]
 
 The New Country 
 
 out protest, I was disloyal to Sir Mark, tolerating the 
 contempt for him which they seemed to suggest even 
 though no one knew his name. But I was too shy to 
 make a remark which might have smoothed the situa- 
 tion and as I sat helpless and indignant, Eddie caught 
 my look. I could see that he too 'was embarrassed for, 
 with a half-impatient " There, there, Mother, that's 
 enough about us, let's get on with the eats," he tried 
 to turn attention from me. 
 
 " That's all right," she laughed, " but I'm proud of 
 you, Ed, and I don't mind folks knowing it." Her 
 face did indeed shine with an eager happy pride as she 
 looked at her son, but in that moment of criticism I 
 made no excuse for her candour. Instead a picture 
 of my mother's face with its beautiful profile came be- 
 fore my eyes and for the moment her cold dignity and 
 perfect manners formed a desirable contrast. I forgot 
 how much I had suffered through that same cold per- 
 fection ! 
 
 The avoidance of the subject as Eddie and I went 
 home threw a suspicion of constraint between us. 
 Though I appreciated the loyalty to his mother which 
 forbade him mentioning it, I wanted him to tell me 
 that he understood and sympathised with my attitude. 
 It seemed as if the constraint haunted my dreams, 
 making me restless, for I had only just fallen into the 
 first real sleep when I was awakened by strains of the 
 latest ragtime pouring into my unwilling ears. I 
 listened for a moment. My husband was not only 
 whistling and singing in his bath, a daily musical feat, 
 
 [151]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 but he had turned on the gramophone to add to the 
 entertainment. Hitherto I had never supposed that 
 any one on this earth could enjoy hearing such a pene- 
 trating sound at seven o'clock in the morning and it 
 gave me a feeling of resentment that there was such 
 a being and this my husband. His jocular youthful- 
 ness first thing in the morning emphasised what before 
 I had scarcely realised my temper was apt to be 
 wobbly so early in the day! 
 
 When I went to Mrs. Boynton's for luncheon, Maisie 
 at once began to talk about clothes. I soon gathered 
 from her manner that she regarded with pity both my 
 dress at the dinner party and the suit I was wearing, 
 each of them the result of the elaborate shopping bout 
 in London which had seemed to be the height of 
 daring to the prudent Margaret Miller. In a moment 
 of expansiveness she offered to take me to her woman 
 for an evening dress. 
 
 " Land's sake ! " said Mrs. Boynton as she heard of 
 the project, " isn't one victim enough for you, 
 Maisie! " Maisie looked at her coldly, but she went 
 on just as affably, " I wear these fool clothes just to 
 make her happy, but don't you let her get you going, 
 Margaret. Be gentle but firm ! " 
 
 " Come along, Margaret," was all Maisie's retort, 
 given with the air of a duchess. But as we went out 
 I was thinking again of Mrs. Boynton's good nature 
 and felt a sudden sympathy with the woman who wore 
 fashionable clothes to please her daughter. The 
 knowledge dignified her, threw around her something 
 
 [152]
 
 The New Country 
 
 of the awe with which we hear of a deed of silent 
 heroism ! 
 
 I found that " Madam " had a " place "it would 
 have been an affront to the beautiful little salon to call 
 it " shop " not far from Broadway, where behind ex- 
 quisite lace curtains, she sold creations to those who 
 could afford it, and often to those who could not. 
 Maisie led me to infer that she considered she was 
 doing me a kindness in even introducing me there. 
 
 A mass of filmy lace and tulle was brought out for 
 our inspection. I gave it a hasty glance before Madam, 
 taking it away, said, " I'll have Miss Manning wear it, 
 Mrs. Whiting." 
 
 Maisie looked pleased and important, " That's their 
 best mannequin, Margaret" 
 
 " Maisie," I said in a hurried whisper, " why didn't 
 she show us the bodice ? " 
 
 " But she did, it's all together." 
 
 " Oh ! " And as the mannequin came forward, my 
 cheeks flooded with colour. The bodice was so minute 
 that I had missed it altogether! I had a sinking of the 
 heart. I should never have the courage to wear such a 
 dress and yet I lacked enough of it to say so to Maisie. 
 I could imagine the little scornful lift of the eyebrows 
 and in the inevitable fear of being thought prudish, the 
 dress was bought. 
 
 I tried it on next evening. For a long time I could 
 not persuade myself to move out of the bedroom. 
 Finally clutching the wisps of chiffon supporting the 
 bodice, I opened the living-room door. 
 
 [153]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 " Eddie," I whispered, " that is Maisie's idea of an 
 evening dress for me, and I can't possibly wear it, 
 can I?" 
 
 " It does seem to have a bit lacking." 
 
 " Oh no, the bit is there, all right, it's the main part 
 which has been forgotten." 
 
 He laughed, then slowly his expression changed, and 
 throwing down his book he came towards me, " You 
 look very cute in it, anyhow." 
 
 With a sudden hatred of the dress, I eluded his arms 
 and back in my room rammed it into the box. Next 
 day I had the unpleasant task of telling Madam that I 
 had decided that the dress did not suit me after all, 
 and exchanging it for a pretty one of grey, a good deal 
 more modish than any I had, but not so extreme as 
 the other. When I learned the cost of this simple 
 dress, I thought how lucky it was that I had taken the 
 more elaborate model back. 
 
 This question of cost was an increasing anxiety, for 
 as I began to try and tot up bills for housekeeping, I 
 realised how entirely ignorant I was of the value of 
 money. I had had a small allowance for pocket 
 money, but all my clothes had been bought for me 
 and I had not the slightest idea how far the dollars 
 would go. That I was not at first extravagant in the 
 matter of clothes was simply due to my limited idea 
 of their importance, but the housekeeping which had 
 all the interest of a new thing was so much in my 
 mind that I was always buying things which would 
 do, without regard to necessity, ordering anything and 
 
 [154]
 
 The New Country 
 
 everything to eat which came into my mind, and never 
 thinking of cost or season. Consequently the extent 
 of the bills alarmed me. 
 
 " Eddie," I said one night, " am I spending too much 
 money? I couldn't have believed that two people 
 would cost so much to feed. I'm afraid it's because I 
 can't remember when things are ' luxuries ' and when 
 they are just ' food.' ' 
 
 But he answered casually, " Oh, you are doing fine, 
 and I'll soon be making more money." 
 
 He adopted the same attitude towards my clothes. 
 After my experience with Madam I went to the stores 
 for the next things I wanted, but even then I was 
 astounded by the prices. I was sure that my mother's 
 dresses, which Sunnydale considered unusually smart 
 and lavish did not cost anything like what I paid for 
 two or three simple little things. But when I told 
 Eddie what I had spent, he laughed, 
 
 " Don't you worry too much about cost. You know 
 I want you to look real smart," and aided and abetted 
 by Maisie's notions, I soon let price subside into the 
 background. And with an account at one of the big 
 stores which did away with that most controlling 
 factor of " spot cash," cost became of less and less 
 importance whether I wanted a thing was all that 
 mattered. 
 
 It perhaps did not matter to Maisie's husband that 
 she was extravagant. He was on the Stock Exchange 
 and Eddie told me he was making pots of money 
 certainly Maisie ran him a close second in the matter 
 
 [155]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 of spending. They had a smart apartment and a com- 
 fortable little sedan which she operated among the 
 traffic with a skill which continually surprised me. 
 
 Jack Whiting was nice and young and alert-looking, 
 curiously like my husband in general appearance 
 though he was some years older, tall, slim, fair and 
 immaculately dressed. I confessed later, to Maisie's 
 overwhelming amusement, that his appearance was so 
 perfect, I had thought he must have something to do 
 with " clothes." His manners too were just as per- 
 fect, both he and Eddie having the same charming 
 courtesy of bearing towards our sex, both of them, as 
 I thought, appearing to be much better bred than 
 Maisie. Was it the college education which gave them 
 so much finish, or did her manners suffer in conse- 
 quence of her attitude of accepting everything in the 
 world as her rightful happiness and convenience, an 
 attitude which lacked the womanly charm of little acts 
 of grace, of unselfish thought for others' comfort? 
 Eddie had perfectly fitted into our life at Sunnydale, 
 but I could not so picture Maisie with her tinted cheeks, 
 her smart clothes, her assurance and air of worldliness. 
 
 Whenever the two men met their whole conversation 
 seemed to be about the state of the Market and moods 
 depended so much on this vague and illusive thing 
 that I called it " Eddie's barometer." When I learned 
 a little more about this Market I realised that a good 
 many of his investments were in the nature of specu- 
 lations and that he set great store by the tips which 
 came from Jack Whiting. Further, that several hours 
 
 [156]
 
 The New Country 
 
 of the day when he should have been at the office were 
 spent with Whiting and that in consequence he often 
 had to work late at his legitimate business. There 
 were many evenings when he was not home for dinner, 
 or when after a hasty meal he was again swallowed up 
 by the thing of which I began to know a vague jealousy 
 " Business." 
 
 '[157]
 
 Chapter Two 
 
 MY first month in New York consisted of a round 
 of gaieties and invitations which warmed my 
 heart to the people who were thus so hospitable, and I 
 wanted to show them that I appreciated it. " Eddie," 
 I said one evening, " I've met a lot of people at your 
 mother's flat, and every one has been awfully nice and 
 included me in invites to Maisie, even if I'd only just 
 met them isn't it time we did some entertaining? " 
 
 " Go ahead and fix the party I'm on." 
 
 " Let's have a dinner on Christmas eve. I'll ask 
 your mother and father, and Maisie and Jack and " 
 
 " The Martins, and Anna and Clarrie, then there's 
 the Stones, and " 
 
 " Whoa ! How many do you think we can dine in 
 our large domain!" I said laughing. "The others 
 will have to come in after dinner, for music, or bridge 
 or something." 
 
 " All right, that suits me." 
 
 I still felt rather shy and " countrified " among the 
 smart girls and young matrons I met at the bridge 
 parties and chic little luncheons, dinners and suppers, 
 and so I was very anxious that our first party should 
 be a great success and plunged into the catering with a 
 
 [158]
 
 The New Country 
 
 lavish hand. My maid was a very good cook and I 
 was comfortably content that she would do her part 
 well as I remarked when I first learned her wages, 
 " She certainly ought to do anything well at such a 
 price ! " 
 
 She was so entirely competent and self-reliant that 
 I was timid about suggesting things to her, and per- 
 haps it was this which paved the way for what hap- 
 pened, but on the very morning of my party there was 
 a clash ! a command on my part, an irate expression 
 of opinion on hers, an answering temper from me 
 and I was left breathless and indignant, facing a 
 slammed door. She had gone! 
 
 And eight people were coming to dinner, and and 
 I did not know how to cook! I cursed my expensive 
 education which had neglected this important detail. 
 The two facts revolved in my mind till in a panic I 
 'phoned to Eddie. 
 
 " I don't know how it happened," I said breath- 
 lessly, " or what terrible thing I said to her, but but 
 Hannah has gone, walked out in a rage ! " 
 
 He whistled " Phew ! And the dinner party to- 
 night!" 
 
 "Yes. Whatever shall I do?" 
 
 " I'll ask mother to give you a helping hand. She's 
 a fine cook and she'll do it like the darling she is." 
 
 I hated to expose my ignorance to Eddie's mother, 
 but there was no other way there was no time to go 
 out and look for a cook even if I had known where 
 to go. 
 
 [159]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 Mrs. Boynton arrived soon after, smiling and good- 
 natured. "Well, well, so Hannah's gone! Ain't she 
 the limit, going just when you want her! We'll have 
 to step lively to get things ready in time, you can do 
 the dessert, while I fix the trimmings for the roast." 
 
 I had chosen the dessert out of the cookery book ; it 
 had an elaborate name and a still more elaborate mix- 
 ture. What would happen to it, if I meddled with 
 these unknown quantities ? There was nothing else but 
 confession. " I may as well tell you at once, I don't 
 know how to cook," I said with a touch of defiance. 
 
 She looked at me in amazement, then with her 
 ready smile, "Now isn't that a nice pancake! Still 
 we'll have to do. Perhaps you'll fix the table ? " 
 
 " Oh yes, I can do all that." 
 
 " Fine, get about it then." 
 
 As I passed in and out of the tiny kitchen like a 
 box compared to the huge room at home with its rows 
 of shining pans and gleaming fireirons and huge range 
 and saw Mrs. Boynton getting hotter and more 
 flushed as the cooking progressed, but always good- 
 natured, always ready with a joke, I felt ashamed of 
 my secret criticism of her effusive manner. Here she 
 was doing the cooking I ought to have been able to do 
 and apparently not even resenting it. 
 
 " Doesn't the idea of having to cook a dinner for all 
 these people make you nervous?" I asked suddenly, 
 envying her calm competence. 
 
 She laughed " Land's sake, no ! Why, I could 
 almost cook in my sleep. Now if you asked me to 
 [160]
 
 The New Country 
 
 meet a crowd of strangers why it'd be different 
 almost as bad as meeting you eh, Margaret?" she 
 added chuckling. 
 
 " You don't mean to say you were nervous then? " 
 
 " I sure do. I was just scared stiff of you and you 
 looked so haughty and yet I wanted you to know you 
 were welcome, coming so far, to a strange country, 
 but I was all of a tremble inside." 
 
 I looked at her flushed face and a sudden impulse 
 made me bend and kiss her cheek. " Thank you," I 
 said quietly. 
 
 And in a humbled frame of mind, I did her bidding. 
 
 As the time for the party approached my spirits 
 sank lower and lower. It seemed that it must be a 
 failure, there would be no one to wait upon us and 
 everything would be in a muddle. But when the guests 
 arrived, they apparently looked upon the calamity as a 
 joke ; every one was willing to help. It was more like 
 a picnic than a dinner party, but the food was de- 
 liciously cooked and it was eaten amid much laughter 
 and congratulations for the cook. My heart went out 
 to these people who could be so jolly and informal, 
 making the best of a mishap and still enjoying them- 
 selves. 
 
 When they had gone and I had thanked Mrs. Boyn- 
 ton for her help, Eddie seized my hands and as we shut 
 the door, pumped them up and down saying with his 
 boyish laugh, " Well, lady, that was some party ! 
 Many more like it but say, what about breakfast? " 
 
 " Oh, I can cook breakfast! " 
 
 [161]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 " You relieve an anxiety I've felt the whole eve- 
 ning," and we both burst out laughing, like two happy 
 children who were playing at keeping house. 
 
 Immediately a clock struck one and I sobered at the 
 remembrance. " Why, Eddie, it's Christmas Day 
 already ! " 
 
 " Our first Christmas together. Hope they'll all be 
 as happy." His eyes were tenderly solemn as he 
 turned and caught my shoulders. " You are happy? " 
 
 I made no reservation as I whispered a fervent as- 
 sent, for in these moments of unity I had no memory 
 of a possible shadow. I was supremely, utterly con- 
 tent. 
 
 Bright sunshine awoke me early in the morning and 
 I lay and thought of Meadowmere. It was the first 
 Christmas since I could remember when I had not hung 
 up my stocking and the lapse of this childish habit 
 which Tom had long ago refused to countenance, say- 
 ing, " It makes you look a silly kid ! " gave me a 
 feeling of regret for my old home. No bulging stock- 
 ing to inspect on Christmas morning, I was grown up 
 at last, I thought. 
 
 But as my eyes roamed round the room they caught 
 sight of something which made me spring from bed 
 yes, it was my stocking with a bulging toe! Out of 
 the bulge I drew a little packet on which was written, 
 " For my wife," and as I opened it, I caught my 
 breath. On a dark velvet bed lay an adorable pearl 
 ring, a pearl, white and soft and glowing like love as 
 I had dreamed Oh, how dear he was! 
 [162]
 
 The New Country 
 
 " Eddie," I whispered in his ear, " wake up, wake 
 up, I want to thank you." 
 
 He grunted sleepily "What's the matter? House 
 on fire?" 
 
 " No I oh, thank you! " Though I could not 
 find words, he could read the depth of my delight in 
 my face and voice. 
 
 "Like it?" he asked with that soft smile which 
 thrilled me because it came so seldom. 
 
 " I love it ! " And bending down I put my face 
 against his rumpled hair. 
 
 The memory of those early morning hours was with 
 me all through the day which we spent at the Boyn- 
 tons, making me happier than I had ever thought I 
 could have been on this first Christmas Day away from 
 Sunnydale. I found myself tenderly watching Eddie's 
 devotion to his mother. He was so charming to her, 
 and she was so unashamedly proud of him that I won- 
 dered she was not more critical of the foreign wife 
 he had chosen, that instead she should seem so willing 
 to give her a share in this affection. 
 
 Next day came the Christmas mail from England. 
 There were letters and packets from home. Sir Mark 
 sent some photographs of Sunnydale taken in the 
 snow; Mr. and Mrs. Robert Haselton had remem- 
 bered to send us greeting, to my surprise, and there 
 was a letter from Torn. He was getting on famously, 
 had started with navvy work for a big building con- 
 tractor, then had gone into the office; now he wrote 
 hopefully of being made works manager. He had paid 
 
 [163]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 the first instalment of his debt to Sir Mark and hoped 
 to go straight on with the others till he was free. 
 How splendid! Then I smiled half sadly at the 
 thought of the lordly Tom taking pleasure in hard 
 work. After all what had happened was turning out 
 to be for the best and it made me glad that he was 
 atoning for the past. Yet gladness faded as I thought 
 of Nancy. How was she readjusting her life? 
 
 The last thing I opened was a report about my cot- 
 tages from Sir Mark's bailiff. They were all let and 
 every one was delighted with them. 
 
 For a time the present faded and as I read Sir 
 Mark's cheery friendly letter again and again, I was 
 back in Sunnydale. He had resumed the old friend- 
 ship, just like my schooldays when he wrote me nice 
 long letters and sent me chocolates on my birthday. 
 
 A sudden longing for a sight of Meadowmere, for 
 the full peaceful view from the hill-top, serene and 
 secure even under the grey winter sky, brought the 
 tears to my eyes. How glorious it would be if we 
 could go there, if one day it should again be my home.
 
 Chapter Three 
 
 AS the weeks lengthened into months, I began to 
 realise that two entirely new factors were 
 thrust forward out of the old perspective money and 
 clothes. Of course there had been bad times in 
 Sunnydale and then from the Hall or the squire or 
 the vicar, or wealthy old Mrs. Dale, rescue came and 
 coal or food was sent to the villagers to tide over the 
 distress. In our own circle people lived comfortably, 
 apparently able to buy everything which was needed, 
 but without any display of luxury. 
 
 In our quiet little village, money as the momentous 
 factor had been tastefully kept out of sight, status be- 
 ing more important than wealth or poverty. The vicar 
 happened to be rich, but a poor man would have been 
 regarded in exactly the same way he was the vicar, 
 he had a definite social standing. The doctor and his 
 family happened to be poor, but that made no dif- 
 ference to the regard in which they were held; if they 
 had been rich, they would still have been the doctor's 
 family. If Sir Mark had lost most of his wealth, and 
 dwelt in poverty at the Hall, the esteem in which he 
 was held would not have been lowered. If my mother 
 or I had continually appeared in new dresses at each 
 
 [ 165 ]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 garden or tennis or dinner party, it would not have 
 made an atom of difference in the regard of our neigh- 
 bours yes, I am wrong, it would have adversely af- 
 fected their regard, for they would have considered us 
 wasteful and unnecessarily extravagant. What matter 
 if my dress were of cotton or silk, of tp-day's fashion 
 or made over from last summer? Every one knew me 
 as the daughter of Squire Miller, and if Nancy had 
 been decked out by Worth or Paquin, would she not 
 still have been the daughter of a gardener? 
 
 But in this new crowded panorama, life was more 
 variegated, for few were tagged with a recognisable 
 label. In the streets I might be rubbing shoulders with 
 a millionaire's wife or a shopgirl, with an old family, 
 or one of the latest minute. I soon gathered that the 
 people I knew were distinctly of the latter group like 
 Eddie's father, the men were self-made, had attained 
 the money and powers they possessed by their own 
 efforts, in several cases were obviously of recent for- 
 eign extraction. And thus I suppose if Maisie, as 
 Jack's wife, had worn a dress which was out of fash- 
 ion, or made of cotton when it should have been of 
 silk, up would go eyebrows and a whisper would carry 
 on the wind " Business bad ! " Was this the reason 
 that our gay set spent money with a lavishness which 
 to me was staggering, disbursing sums for an evening's 
 pleasure, or a new dress, or a sudden whim which 
 would have kept a villager's family at home for sev- 
 eral weeks? In vain I argued with myself that my 
 standards were of the simplest kind, that Sunnydale
 
 The Nev/ Country 
 
 was a quiet village, not comparable for instance to the 
 standards of London, I could not get over my surprise 
 at the prevalence of the ever open wallet with its ample 
 contents. 
 
 Yet it could not be the actual love of money which 
 kept their thoughts so continuously on the making of 
 it; they spent too lavishly for that. Most certainly 
 Eddie had no touch of a mercenary spirit, had made 
 no inquiries about the value of my cottages, nor of the 
 possibilities of Meadowmere as a monetary prospect. 
 Was it that money represented the height to which they 
 had climbed on the ladder of success and power that 
 if they spent much they were successful and had made 
 good that if a thing cost a great deal, it must be 
 valuable was this their creed? 
 
 I realised with dismay the tremendous importance 
 which Eddie attached to this material success one day 
 after a bridge party at Maisie's, where I met a woman 
 of an entirely different type to her usual crowd. 
 
 I was sitting in a corner, watching the gaily dressed 
 girls, still rather shy amid their smartness, when a 
 woman who was probably thirty-five came and sat by 
 me. I noticed at once that her suit was not more 
 pretentious than my own early efforts, that her skin 
 was pale and clear and guiltless of powder, that her 
 eyes were of a vivid eager blue, and her voice deep and 
 harmonious as she said, 
 
 " ! think you and I ought to weep together. I under- 
 stand we had the lowest scores." 
 
 She suggested an intelligence and forcefulness so 
 
 [167]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 much at variance with the usual flutter-brained crowd 
 that I wondered momentarily what she was doing there. 
 " I'm the poorest kind of bridge player," I answered 
 
 smiling, " but you " I hesitated, then finished 
 
 boldly, "you look as though you could play a good 
 game." 
 
 She laughed charmingly. " I am afraid my thoughts 
 are more taken up with the players than with the cards. 
 Human beings interest me so much. It's just as well, 
 as their study is my living." 
 
 That I did not understand was probably evident, for 
 she added, " I'm a writer." 
 
 Comprehension flashed upon me. I had come in so 
 late that I had only been introduced to the people at 
 my table but I knew that this was " the lion " which 
 Maisie had caged for her afternoon party. This 
 quietly dressed woman was Mary Harden! I bowed 
 before the success she had attained, before her repu- 
 tation for honest opinion, for clever writing, for keen 
 investigation into bad conditions. I did not know 
 much about the literary world, but she was a woman 
 who had brought herself into such popular notice that 
 her fame had spread even amid the vapid and pleasure- 
 loving. 
 
 I was too stricken by the knowledge of her powers 
 to make any sensible reply to her remark and she went 
 on, " I wanted to talk to you for I hear you are Eng- 
 lish and I've spent a good deal of time over there. 
 Further, I've a sister living in London." 
 
 I suppose the sudden delight with which I heard her 
 [168]
 
 The New Country 
 
 must have altered my whole manner for as I exclaimed 
 eagerly, " How jolly to meet some one who can talk 
 about home! " her face softened. 
 
 " Why, you're not homesick? " 
 
 Some sympathy underlying her half-jocular intona- 
 tion loosened my restraint, and the complete candour 
 which I had scarcely allowed my thoughts was in my 
 whispered, " I am, desperately, sometimes ! " I bit 
 my lip to hide its quivering. 
 
 She leaned towards me as she said eagerly, " You 
 poor child ! We must meet again and have a good talk 
 about the places we both know. I'll 'phone you in a 
 few days before I go to the country. I'm spending the 
 summer in the Adirondacks." 
 
 " I don't know where they are, but if they're country 
 then I wish I were coming too." 
 
 " They're mountains. You'd probably be bored to 
 death, for I'm going to the real country, camping in 
 complete solitude, with only the trees, the peace, the 
 wonderful changing colours " 
 
 "How I'd love it!" 
 
 " It's the real country, not the fashionable hotel to 
 which Mrs. Whiting and her friends will throng at the 
 fashionable time, to live the same gay life as they do 
 here poor children." 
 
 Underneath my longing for the vision she had 
 opened, was surprise at the sympathy in her tone. 
 " Why poor ? They have all they want." 
 
 " Perhaps it's the quality of the ' all ' which makes 
 me sigh ! " And then with the skill of an artist she 
 
 [169]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 carried me away from the walls of the apartment into 
 the country which she knew. She loved it as I did. 
 As she stopped I awoke from the spell to find Maisie 
 fluttering over her lion and our conversation ended. 
 But before I left I managed to ask her if she couldn't 
 come and have tea with me before she went away " I 
 can't wait until you come back," I added, smiling 
 shyly. 
 
 Her eyes twinkled. " I wonder if it is / or the 
 promised subject which is the reason for the urgency! " 
 And as somewhat confusedly I joined in her laugh- 
 ter, she added, " On Thursday then, I'll be delighted." 
 
 I went home with a new interest, explaining to 
 Eddie that I'd found a real woman who loved the 
 country " It's the famous Mary Harden, and she's 
 coming to tea with me the day after to-morrow." 
 
 " You're growing to be some hustler, eh, Mar- 
 garet ! " he said with his friendly smile. 
 
 " She says there's some beautiful country around 
 here, up the Hudson, and in some mountains with 
 funny names." 
 
 " Catskills, or Adirondacks ? " 
 
 " Yes, that's 'em. I'd love to see them. I am afraid 
 I have been unconsciously thinking of America as a big 
 New York! Can't you manage a holiday and take 
 me ? " I asked. 
 
 His eyebrows went up in mock astonishment. 
 
 " What, me take a vacation ! Then I'd like to know 
 who would be making the money to buy your new 
 hats and things? " 
 [170]
 
 The New Country 
 
 " I don't want any new hats or things just now. If 
 you'll promise to come, I'll promise to do without a 
 new hat for six months ! " I said lightly. 
 
 Underneath the half-jesting note in our voices, there 
 was an undercurrent of something else, something even 
 more than the meeting of two wills, even more than 
 my longing to see the country and get away from the 
 noise and multitude of people. There was the woman's 
 desire for immediate assent to the thing she asks which 
 proves her power and renews her confidence in her 
 husband's love. My woman's pride demanded that he 
 should yield, hovered around with the suggestion that 
 it was always I who had given in to him, was ready 
 with a harsh reminder of that " excuse " with which I 
 had so easily been deceived. 
 
 He burst out laughing " And at the end of the six 
 months you'd be ramming that ancient headgear into 
 the nearest garbage can with a ' well done, faithful 
 servant ! now I can live again ! ' 
 
 " I wouldn't I don't want to be just a spending 
 machine, anyway. I want to be a companion. What's 
 the use of making money just to spend it on hats and 
 clothes and restaurants things that don't count, it's 
 such a waste. It seems to me it's better to make less, 
 and enjoy life more by doing the things one wants 
 to do." 
 
 " You don't seem to consider that ' restaurants and 
 things ' may be the very source from which / draw 
 enough energy to go on living ! " 
 
 " Eddie, do be serious," I said, irritated by the light
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 way in which he had taken my request, conscious of 
 the importance of his consent. 
 
 " I'm sorry, dearie, but I can't get away. Why don't 
 you go, though, get some one to go with you, this 
 Mary Harden, for instance? " 
 
 " She probably wouldn't want me and besides I 
 shouldn't think of going without you, I wouldn't enjoy 
 it when I knew you were alone, working." Then in a 
 whisper I added, leaning over his chair, " Wouldn't 
 you like another holiday just like that at Sunnydale? 
 Didn't you enjoy that? Think of the picnics, the rides, 
 the tennis, the long days in the open air and your 
 brown face do you remember the day in the rain 
 when we went to see Martha, and that other wonder- 
 ful day at Barnston? " 
 
 His eyes softened at the recollection. " It was 
 glorious," he said, " I shall never forget it." 
 
 ' Then come away and we'll have another holiday 
 just like it, just a short one, a few days ! " I saw my 
 way gained. 
 
 His face set. " It's impossible," he answered rather 
 shortly, " I'd like to, but I am too busy." 
 
 His tone was definite, final. My deep disappoint- 
 ment at the failure of the prospect for which I longed 
 was buried underneath hurt pride. I had disregarded 
 it sufficiently to plead, to remind him of old emotions, 
 and the only result was a cold refusal. He had altered ! 
 That first flitting impression I had had when he came 
 back to Sunnydale was right, he was harder. He could 
 have come if he had made an effort. I looked upon 
 
 [ 172 ].
 
 The New Country 
 
 him coldly, inimically; the being with whom I had 
 shared moments of tense emotion had faded into a 
 stranger, whose failings I could criticise with detach- 
 ment. 
 
 The shadow stood between us as I went sullenly 
 back to my chair. 
 
 And then gradually through resentment a miserable 
 loneliness began to creep around me, an utter terri- 
 fying forlornness from which his tenderness was the 
 only thing to save me. Without it I had nothing; I 
 was alone in the midst of strangers. This aching need 
 for reconciliation drove out pride, suggesting the 
 softening thought that he was proving he loved me by 
 wishing to get on for my sake. Almost involuntarily 
 I came behind him and rubbed my face against his 
 cheek. The hard firm outline thrilled me, it was so 
 rough, so powerful and masculine, and as he caught 
 my hands and drew them against his mouth, I was 
 again content. 
 
 But the shadow of fear survived the surge of emo- 
 tion. Suppose there should ever come a time when this 
 cold inimical estrangement should be unconquerable, 
 enduring. Apprehensively, fearfully, I buried the 
 shadow so deeply that I thought it gone. 
 
 [173]
 
 Chapter Four 
 
 WHEN Mary Harden came into my little apart- 
 ment there seemed to enter with her an atmos- 
 phere of reality, of earnestness and purpose leavened 
 by sympathy. I found myself opening my heart as I 
 talked of my home. 
 
 " Why are you lonely? " she asked abruptly. 
 
 A sense of loyalty to Eddie made me wish that I had 
 withheld the confession and I tried to make her under- 
 stand the enormous change from the small village 
 where I had known everybody to the huge city with 
 its masses of people where I felt I knew no one. " I 
 suppose it's because I don't belong here," I finished. 
 
 " But you do your husband does. Why are you 
 lonely?" 
 
 " He's almost always busy. We go out to dinners 
 and the theatre but that's with a crowd. He's often 
 late at the office and even on Saturday afternoon he's 
 scarcely ever free. If he's any energy left by Sunday, 
 somebody takes us to the beach in their machine, or 
 Maisie makes up a party for a restaurant, it's always 
 with a crowd whom I don't know. He's too busy to 
 go away for a holiday, away from this town-life which 
 I hate, into the country where we'd be alone for a 
 change. It seems foolish to work so hard just to have 
 
 [1741
 
 The New Country 
 
 money to spend on things which don't matter, so hard 
 that there's no time for a few days of leisure but 
 they all do it." 
 
 " Who's they? You're not judging the whole coun- 
 try by the mere handful of people you have met to 
 whom the money market is the most exciting theatre 
 they know? " 
 
 I coloured in confusion. I had not been conscious 
 of making any judgment for I had sternly opposed an 
 open reference to new customs which might savour of 
 criticism in the ears of a native. Perhaps that was a 
 mistake a mistake that even to Eddie I had never 
 spoken openly on the subject, never thrashed out the 
 meaning of little prejudices and irritations, never tried 
 to solve the reason for the differences in custom and 
 manner. 
 
 " I didn't know an American till I met my husband," 
 I said in self-defence, " and all his friends seem to 
 have the same overwhelming interest in business. It's 
 human to judge by what we know, isn't it? " 
 
 " Yes, unfortunately. That's the trouble in go- 
 ing to a new country. We meet some one we don't 
 like, perhaps several people who rub us up the wrong 
 way. We meet the same people at home and merely 
 dismiss them as unpleasant individuals. But in the 
 new country, because unconsciously we are always 
 looking for contrasts, they immediately become types, 
 and we base our whole ideas of the nation upon these 
 individuals. I wish you could come home with me for 
 a week end," she added suddenly, "and meet my 
 
 [175]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 mother. I think you'd enjoy our home, it's near New 
 London, overlooking the Sound. Could you come?" 
 
 That was always the way with these delightfully 
 hospitable people; if they liked you on the first im- 
 pression they didn't wait to learn the status of your 
 grandfather, or whether you might turn out to be a 
 desirable acquaintance ! They accepted you at the val- 
 uation of that moment. 
 
 My decision not to leave Eddie struggled against 
 the enticement of that " overlooking the Sound." " I 
 think I could manage a week end," I answered weakly, 
 giving way to it " It's awfully nice of you to ask me." 
 
 Eddie was delighted that I should go. He was 
 always so keen about my enjoyment, providing it could 
 be got without disturbing that powerful " Business." 
 And so Mary Harden and I set out for her home one 
 Saturday afternoon in June. 
 
 I shall never forget my impression as I entered its 
 cool peaceful interior, to be welcomed by a smiling 
 woman with white hair who strongly suggested her 
 daughter. As we sat in the wide sunny porch over- 
 looking the waters of the Sound, I contrasted her life 
 with that of the madly rushing crowd I had left, with 
 the incessant noise of the city, the incessant cry of suc- 
 cess, money, power. And I thought, envying, that if 
 only I could get Eddie into a home like that life would 
 be supremely happy. 
 
 For if I had been asked what thing I missed most 
 from my old life, I think I should have answered, 
 " Solitude and quiet." I was so shut in by people and 
 [176]
 
 sound that there was no place in which I could feel 
 absolutely alone. I had been so used to going some- 
 where by myself if I felt unhappy or cross, while here 
 it seemed as if I could never relax, as if there were 
 always the strain of hiding my feelings. If I shut my 
 bedroom door there was a maid a few feet away whose 
 movements I could hear, whose presence I could feel. 
 If I had had tears on my face when Eddie came home 
 he would have thought that I was unhappy, and thus 
 these fits of depression or homesickness or bad temper 
 simmered inside whereas if I could have taken them to 
 the quiet and solitude of the Mere, they would have 
 dissolved in tears and I should have known them for 
 the petty things they were. 
 
 Sometimes when the longing for the sound of many 
 trees and the absence of people drove me out, I would 
 wander in the fine stretches of Central Park and watch 
 the squirrels, but always the peace was spoiled by the 
 presence of others and the content of being alone would 
 change to a quick miserable loneliness in the fact of 
 seeing nothing but strange faces. 
 
 Little by little as the newness of everything wore 
 away I began to find time hang heavily on my hands. 
 In spite of the fact that my home had been arranged 
 by some one else, I think I should soon have developed 
 the pride of ownership if I alone had been responsible 
 for its cleanliness and good order. But the maid 
 spoiled this. The care of the few small rooms certainly 
 did not overtax her strength, and I imagine she would 
 have thought me utterly crazy had I suddenly ex- 
 
 [177]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 pressed a desire to " turn out " a room myself. So 
 I only pottered around, trying to make the place feel 
 more homelike by changing the furniture, and buying 
 plenty of cushions and covers to give it a touch of my 
 individual taste. But in my own eyes the effort was 
 rather pitiful, and in spite of friendly admiration from 
 others, to me it still seemed like a suite in a hotel. 
 Lacking that intimate care and thought and love with 
 which I had dreamed of building up our home, I never 
 felt at rest in these few rooms perched upon one side 
 of this great building. 
 
 After Eddie had gone in the morning, I would 
 flutter about the piano not doing any real practising, 
 but just passing the time, then pick up a novel and 
 spend another hour reading, perhaps sew a little, then 
 wait for lunch. After lunch there seemed so many 
 hours before he came home how could I fill them? 
 If I were going out the problem was partly solved, but 
 I did not know enough people to make engagements 
 for every afternoon, and in any case, there seemed 
 something useless about these afternoon parties. At 
 Sunnydale I had always had something to do; visits 
 to sick people, readings for old Mrs. Bell, sewing par- 
 ties at the vicarage, flowers to take to the county hos- 
 pital, and for amusements there had been such fine, 
 health-giving things as riding, driving, gardening, 
 tennis, hockey every day seemed to have some duty 
 or pleasure. I had told Eddie that I wanted to help 
 him, I had even suggested giving up the maid and 
 doing my own housework and learning to cook, having 
 
 [178]
 
 The New Country 
 
 in mind Mrs. Harden's competence in this respect; for 
 I had been surprised to learn that the only outside help 
 she had was a weekly laundress. But Eddie laughed 
 at my notion. 
 
 " Why, you do help me now, it's fine to know I am 
 working for you." 
 
 " But I want to be an active help. I went with 
 Maisie to-day to hear Mrs. Sparkles and she talked of 
 * Parasites.' I came to the conclusion that is just what 
 I am, what most of these girls are! " 
 
 Eddie burst out into his hearty laugh. " Jehosha- 
 phat! Is that Maisie's newest fad? She positively 
 wears a cause as if it were the latest fashion. But 
 don't you worry, dearie, I am quite satisfied, I can 
 tell you." 
 
 I felt vaguely that I was not, but yet was lacking 
 in a practical suggestion of any work which I could do. 
 
 Perhaps I looked discontented for Eddie went on 
 cheerfully, " Tell you what, Margaret, why don't you 
 ride? It's beautiful in the park in the early mornings. 
 Do you want me to fix it ? " 
 
 "Ride oh, I'd love it. Would it be possible? 
 Where would we keep my horse ? Where can we buy 
 him? " My spirits surged upward in the joy of antici- 
 pation I would again have an animal to love. 
 
 " Buy him ! Say, you do think I'm a millionaire. 
 I was only suggesting a part share, but even a hired 
 horse would be better than no riding, eh ? " 
 
 All my pleasure went. The keenest part of the joy 
 of riding had been my love for the animal who carried 
 
 [179]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 me, who was mine, who knew me and responded to my 
 touch a hired horse, at the mercy of every one, of 
 people who wouldn't love him, who'd use him badly! 
 No, I couldn't bear it. " Oh, I don't know, Eddie, 
 maybe we'd better leave it, thank you all the same." 
 
 " Well, let me know if you change your mind," he 
 answered casually, and returned to his book. 
 
 A few days after I had my first invitation to Mary 
 Harden's flat. When I went among the crowd of 
 women, my immediate feeling was relief that I had 
 put on one of the simple dresses which Maisie de- 
 spised. For it was quite apparent that here dress was 
 not the most important matter. Mary's guests looked 
 nice, but they lacked that extremely studied effect 
 which Maisie's crowd presented and which was tht 
 result of a minute and interested study in which every 
 detail was thought out. And I began to feel at home. 
 
 There were present a doctor and a social worker; 
 that I learned from their conversation. I also gathered 
 that there was not one among the others who did not 
 earn her living in some way, either in art or business, 
 and the knowledge reflected on my own uselessness. 
 They were delightful to me with an affable sociability 
 which made me feel entirely welcome, but they were 
 so confident, so successful, so well able to talk grace- 
 fully and easily about things which were like Greek 
 to me that my first complacency oozed away. If they 
 listened to my chatter it would only be out of the 
 kindness of their hearts, I thought, and soon shyness 
 kept me quietly listening. 
 [180]
 
 The New Country 
 
 I was so engrossed that I started when I heard a 
 voice at my elbow, " Mary tells me you are English. 
 And how do you like America? " the doctor was say- 
 ing to me. 
 
 I looked round guiltily to find Mary Harden's eyes 
 bright with mischief, and as I hesitated in confusion 
 she burst out laughing. 
 
 " I can tell you," she said gaily. " Mrs. Boynton 
 has only seen a few square miles of it, the centre of 
 which is the New York flat, the restaurant, the theatre. 
 She's come from a country place where she knew 
 every one from childhood, she's too reserved to make 
 friends easily." She raised her eyebrows at the com- 
 pany. " Do you wonder that the impression is not too 
 gratifying? " 
 
 " I wasn't reserved with you, Miss Harden," I said 
 in self-defence. 
 
 The doctor smiled " Mary is a wizard at opening 
 hearts ; of course, it's her business! " 
 
 " And pleasure," said Mary defensively. 
 
 Quite suddenly the doctor grinned and I was sur- 
 prised to see the youthful flash of mischief in her keen 
 clever face. " I knew that would get you, my dear! 
 But talking of reserve, I do want to ask Mrs. Boynton 
 a question which has often puzzled me you know my 
 limitless curiosity What essential trait is it which 
 prompts an Englishman in meeting a stranger to iron 
 the smile from his face till his manner suggests, ' I 
 don't care a damn whether you like me or not ! ' and 
 which, on the contrary, animates the American to smile 
 
 [181]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 more widely and hold out his hand as if to say, ' I'm 
 a darned nice fellow, I am, you'll certainly like me 
 shake! ' Yet I'm sure the Englishman is just as keen 
 he should be liked as any other decent human." 
 
 I could not help laughing at the vivacity of her tone 
 which mimicked the difference in accent and manner, 
 but a suspicion of resentment made me say impulsively, 
 " But he doesn't do that I mean iron the smile does 
 he?" 
 
 And then as they looked at me smilingly, waiting for 
 me to go on, I reddened with sudden self -conscious- 
 ness, while my thoughts were filled by a vivid memory 
 of that day when I had stood staring at Sir Mark in 
 the hall of Meadowmere. Now I was equally dumb 
 and stupid. Perhaps I looked beseechingly at Mary 
 Harden, for she got up and lighting a cigarette, she 
 waved it airily as she said, 
 
 " I've got it all figured out, Doc. You know the 
 numerous Englishmen you've met at least three, eh 
 Doc? " there was a swift smiling challenge between 
 them " have all been importations here. You've 
 never seen them in their own homes. I have and I've 
 come to the conclusion that none of us are particularly 
 apt to shine out of our own country. We may be 
 quite decent humans at home, but in a foreign land we 
 seem to be stuck full of quills, extremely sensitive to 
 new manners, always looking for slights and stings. 
 Perhaps that was the trouble with your Englishmen, 
 Doc. 
 
 " Of course, from our point of view his greeting is 
 [182]
 
 The New Country 
 
 not affable enough, has too many bones in it, but you'd 
 be surprised how he thaws in his own home. You 
 know Lil's husband is English to the nth degree and 
 while I stayed with them I couldn't help analysing him 
 and his friends. I discovered, I think, the reason for 
 his reserve. Among the well-bred of his nation there 
 exists a code which is rigid and inviolable, a code which 
 labels a breach in its own etiquette by two damning 
 words ' bad form.' And of all the awful breaches 
 which can be made by the unknowing, bragging is the 
 worst! In this tabooed art of bragging is included the 
 display of emotions, the expressed self -recognition of 
 virtues, achievements, enthusiasms. However con- 
 scious of possession he may be in his inner soul, he 
 mustn't show it. Thus in his fear of seeming to brag 
 about his virtues, he goes to the other extreme and 
 parades his faults until self-deprecation has become a 
 national habit extending to his own press. You may 
 accuse him of failure and incompetency, and he may 
 agree with you cheerfully and with entire self-posses- 
 sion, but suggest to him his virtues and he becomes shy 
 and awkward as though he'd been detected in a crime 
 as though by his agreement with you he should seem 
 to boast and thus incur a suspicion of that blasting label 
 of ' bad form.' " 
 
 " Then after all this hiding of his light under a 
 bushel, how can he be pained if the world does not 
 know him, takes him at his labelled valuation. Such 
 national reticence is a serious drawback in this age 
 of advertising. If you do a good deed, why in thunder
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 should you be ashamed of it that's the way we feel." 
 It was the doctor who was speaking and in a mo- 
 mentary accession of confidence, I answered, " I sup- 
 pose we can't help it, it's born into us, and trained in- 
 to us, hard but when you really get to know us maybe 
 you'll be astonished at the pleasing result." 
 
 They all laughed. " Bravo ! That is certainly a 
 beginning to the banishment of modesty ! " And as 
 their remarks drifted to another subject, I involun- 
 tarily carried the contrast to the two men I knew well. 
 It was more than likely that Sir Mark was better edu- 
 cated than Eddie, for after getting his B.A. at Oxford 
 he had continued his studies in other universities of 
 France and Germany; he had travelled more exten- 
 sively, was certainly more widely read in the several 
 languages he knew. His opinion was listened to with 
 respect by all the old and long heads in the county, 
 and yet with his gentle reticence, his fear of adver- 
 tising either virtues, or cleverness, or strength, and 
 with his lack of assertiveness he had been outshone by 
 Eddie's young forcefulness and self-confidence, by the 
 unconsciousness of any necessity for being dignified, 
 by the natural instinct for saying what he thought and 
 getting what he wanted which was primitive and 
 youthful. 
 
 As I came near to the apartment the zest I had felt 
 while I was with these animated women faded into 
 depression. I liked them all, they were delightful, had 
 evidently taken me at Mary Harden's valuation and 
 wished to make me welcome. Mary I might have 
 
 [184]
 
 The New Country 
 
 grown to love, so much was I attracted to her. But 
 I would always be too conscious of the gap which was 
 made between us by her superior knowledge of the 
 world, her intellect, her experience. It seemed that 
 she could never look upon me as a friend; that she 
 must feel towards me as the prize Persian might to- 
 wards the house va/iety of just cat. 
 
 And in the sudden realisation that I needed a friend 
 I wished that I were different ; that I were intellectual 
 and interesting or that, like Maisie, I had no aspira- 
 tions beyond the pleasure of the moment. 
 
 [185]
 
 Chapter Five 
 
 AFTER the first six months I noticed a gradual 
 and increasing diminution in the luncheon and 
 afternoon parties. Perhaps Maisie and her friends 
 had taken me up as they would a new fad, perhaps it 
 was that I could not fit myself into their lives. In 
 justice I admitted that they had an excuse for drop- 
 ping me out of their gaieties, that as their self-confi- 
 dence drove away the small amount of it I possessed, 
 I must indeed appear more stupid, more shy. I could 
 not speak lightly of divorce, nor discuss what seemed 
 to me like intimate subjects without a blush, nor look 
 composed when Maisie said lightly that she didn't 
 have time for a child. 
 
 " No time ! " I exclaimed in astonishment, " why, 
 you have nothing to do ! " 
 
 I think her astonishment was just as great " Noth- 
 ing to do, gee, I like that! Why I never have a 
 minute. I guess I'll have to find time some day, for 
 Jack's crazy about children, but meantime I should 
 worry! " Then, as I was probably not able to hide my 
 distaste for her light tone, she added quizzically. 
 
 " Why, would you be glad if you had a baby? " 
 
 The colour rose in my cheeks; it was as if a heavy 
 foot had trodden on my most sacred feelings. Not 
 [186]
 
 The New Country 
 
 even to my husband could I voice my intense longing, 
 and disappointment that motherhood had not come to 
 me. I had always loved all helpless things so much 
 all the babies who had been born in the village, all the 
 puppies, kittens, calves and chickens born on the estate. 
 Here I had found no one who seemed to need love, no 
 one helpless or pathetic even an animal was denied to 
 me because I could not bottle it up in an apartment. 
 So all this mother-love seethed aimlessly in my heart 
 and even to myself, I hardly dared think what it 
 would mean to be able to pour it out on a baby of my 
 own. 
 
 I swallowed hard; never would I admit all this to 
 her. " Oh, I wouldn't care," I answered in a tone I 
 vainly strove to make as light as hers. But I expect 
 she saw my embarrassment and thought me shy and 
 stupid. 
 
 That she did not give me up entirely was probably 
 due to Airs. Boynton, who occasionally came along in 
 the sedan, with a rather bored Maisie as chauffeur and 
 took me for a drive. I judged from this that there 
 were times when even the self-willed Maisie did not 
 have her way, and indeed Mrs. Boynton's powers of 
 persuasion had been applied to me with the result she 
 sought. 
 
 It was in the matter of church -going. At first I had 
 gone with her quite regularly, leaving Eddie at home 
 to read the Sunday paper a budget which in its amaz- 
 ing volume still astonished me. In the beginning I 
 had been overawed by the newness and grandeur of
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 the building in Fifth Avenue, and by the size and ap- 
 pearance of the fashionable congregation from which 
 poverty seemed excluded. But one morning after a 
 tiff with Eddie had sent my mood to zero, I looked 
 around at the strange faces, and a sudden desperate 
 longing came over me for the simple little church at 
 home, for the vicar who had baptized me, for the 
 friendly pews in which I had first sat when I was so 
 small that my legs stuck out in straight lines from the 
 seat for the well-known faces, for the chatter as we 
 passed out through the old lych gate. Tears stung my 
 eyes as my lips quivered and I was so near the edge of 
 hysterical weeping that I vowed I would never go 
 again. 
 
 But an excuse had to be made to Mrs. Boynton and 
 my words faltered under her kindly smile. I tried to 
 explain that it reminded me too keenly of home, " I'm 
 afraid of myself, of being disgraced in the eyes of all 
 these people who look so cool and indifferent " 
 
 " Land's sake, Margaret," she laughed, " what 
 would you have? Would you expect them to grin 
 and nod to you and say ' How-do ' ? " Then her tone 
 altered to a persuasive kindness. " I do hope you'll 
 not give up coming with me, it's real nice having you, 
 not going alone any more." 
 
 " Doesn't Maisie ever go with you? " 
 
 " Not so you could notice," she answered com- 
 fortably. " Let's leave it and see how you feel next 
 Sunday." 
 
 And next Sunday the thought that she needed me 
 [188]
 
 The New Country 
 
 prevailed, so that afterwards there were few times 
 when she went alone. 
 
 As the weather began to get hot, the feeling of being 
 surrounded by people and noise grew more intense. 
 Mary Harden had gone up to her beloved mountains 
 and I had a letter from her urging me to join her, 
 painting the beauties with a lavish hand. I was flat- 
 tered that she wanted me, yet unwilling to leave Eddie 
 in the city. When I handed him the letter without 
 remark he exclaimed enthusiastically. 
 
 " Why, that's a great idea, you ought to get out of 
 the heat, you'll feel it badly the first summer. When 
 will you go? " 
 
 "Why should I go while you stay and work?" I 
 asked stubbornly, refusing to give up my point of 
 view. 
 
 " But I can't get away and you can," 
 
 "Why can't you?" 
 
 " Because I must watch the market," he said a little 
 wearily. I had noticed lately that his energy seemed 
 to have staled. Often enough when he came home he 
 wanted nothing more than a book and going out 
 seemed to be such an effort that I began to refuse in- 
 vitations which meant late hours. Had only two years 
 of that struggle for success made such an impression 
 on the boundless energy and buoyancy of Sunnydale 
 days? While he read, I would sit and do some stupid 
 bit of embroidery which was often spoiled by my hot 
 ringers as I struggled pettishly with the feeling that 
 these hot days and evenings were terribly monotonous. 
 
 [189]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 " Why do you bother about the market ? Why don't 
 you just do your legitimate business, then you would 
 have heaps of free time and wouldn't always be 
 worrying? " 
 
 " Because we can't live on what I get from Dad. 
 When I get a big job, it will be all right, but at 
 present I must make a bit on the side." 
 
 " It seems that it would be more sensible to econo- 
 mise and have time for a holiday. I've told you that 
 I'm quite willing to do the work and cooking and buy 
 less clothes if only we can go away." 
 
 " I can't get away," he said more irritably. 
 
 " All right," I answered with rising colour, " then 
 I'll have to stay and endure the heat." 
 
 How strange it was I thought that a trait in a char- 
 acter which seems especially admirable from a distance 
 loses its virtue when we have to live with it! The 
 concentration and desire to succeed which I had 
 thought so wonderful in Mr. Edward Boynton took 
 on a very different aspect in my husband. The 
 glamour which had surrounded the man who had stood 
 on the hill-top, eager to conquer the world, was absent 
 from this quiet hard figure immersed in business. 
 
 The shadow of estrangement emerged, vaguely 
 menacing. 
 
 And gradually as the thermometer climbed up and 
 up and I existed in a mist of heat and weariness with 
 nothing to do, I wondered whether I could endure. 
 Always heat and sound voices, carts rattling, bells 
 and victrolas and often a child practising the same 
 [190]
 
 The New Country 
 
 tune over and over again. One day it was " The Blue- 
 bells of Scotland " " arranged for little fingers " 
 didn't I know it? If only she hadn't been so madden- 
 ingly correct . . . What a precise child she must be, 
 no hurry, just an infinite patience going over and over 
 the same bars till they beat on my brain. I could 
 imagine her sitting there in a clean dress, hair brushed 
 into a pigtail, eyes forward, sedate little face intent 
 only on the music before her music ! As though she 
 could have gone on playing in that lifeless precision if 
 there had been music in her soul ! . . . 
 
 Suddenly with a wave of savage fury I jumped up, 
 feeling that I would stop at nothing to silence 
 that nerve-racking tee-to-tum. Trembling and both 
 alarmed and ashamed at such a storm over this trifle, 
 I put on my hat and hurried out to see Mrs. Boynton. 
 
 She was the only woman I knew who was at home. 
 She preferred to stay in the city rather than leave her 
 husband alone as he could not get away till the end of 
 the summer when he said he hoped to take a whole 
 week! One whole week out of fifty-two of hard driv- 
 ing labour ! Maisie, of course, had no such preference ; 
 while her husband worked she was enjoying life on 
 the Maine coast, light-heartedly continuing the total 
 lack of division of labour in their dual life. 
 
 When I opened the door of Mrs. Boynton's living- 
 room, she was sitting with one large fat hand on either 
 knee, staring unseeingly out of the window, and I saw 
 a tear gather in her momentarily tragic eyes, and 
 slowly roll down her cheeks, dropping unheeded on the 
 
 [191]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 bright silk dress. Fearing to intrude, I stepped back, 
 but she heard me and called, " Come in, Margaret, it's 
 all right," as she frankly and unashamedly wiped her 
 eyes and the rest of her face with a serviceable square 
 which she then held hesitatingly before she finally 
 stuffed it into her belt. 
 
 " Gee," she smiled, and through the trace of tears 
 the smile was pathetic " I ought to have been firm 
 with Maisie on that point; I ought to have insisted on 
 a pocket whatever it did to these darned clothes, for 
 it's most disturbing to an old woman's peace of mind 
 when she never knows where her handkerchief is 
 though Maisie does say as I could always tell if I 
 looked for a bulge! I suppose you wonder what I was 
 crying for when I have everything, but I was just 
 thinking of my Henry, it's twenty-five years to-day 
 since he died." 
 
 Henry who was Henry? "I am sorry, I didn't 
 know. Eddie has never said anything " 
 
 " No," she said half-sadly, " sometimes I think all 
 of them forget but me. Henry was my first baby and 
 he died when he was a year old. I think even Popper 
 forgets him almost, for he's crazy about Ed. It's 
 only his old mommer who remembers what a cute baby 
 he was ! " 
 
 I thought of this fat, seemingly always happy 
 woman, sitting here alone with that memory, forgotten 
 by every one else, but sacred in her heart, and the pity 
 of it made me reach out and touch her hand. " I am 
 glad you told me." 
 [192]
 
 The New Country 
 
 " There," she was smiling again, " I mustn't be mak- 
 ing you miserable." 
 
 " I think Maisie ought to be with you more." 
 
 " Well, Maisie is young and you can't expect the 
 young things to want to hang around the old folks. 
 I had my day and I don't begrudge her any fun, 
 though to be sure she has more than I did." 
 
 " Why, did you have work to do? " 
 
 " Indeed I did," she answered seriously. " We had 
 a farm up-state. Father died when I was twelve, but 
 Mother was a wonder and she went on working the 
 farm and I helped her with it and the four children, all 
 younger than me. It was hard work, but I was strong 
 and sound and when Popper came along, I had a grand 
 time. He was only an engineer in the yard when we 
 were married, but we managed fine till Henry was 
 born; then hard times happened, a strike blew up and 
 I had to turn to and help. But we pulled through and 
 it turned out for the best, for he got with another 
 company and it was there Mr. Haselton's partner 
 found him. He's a smart man is my Henry. And we 
 prospered ever since. But I often think of those days 
 when we had a bit of a house far away from the city 
 and I would wait for Popper to come home with the 
 child in my arms, ready to wave to him. He's certainly 
 a fine man." 
 
 " I'm sure he is," I said softly. And suddenly I 
 envied her. It must be splendid to struggle along with 
 one's husband, taking the rough with the smooth, 
 " turning to " when hard times came. There must be 
 
 [193]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 a satisfaction in looking back and thinking that your 
 efforts had helped, that it was not only the man who 
 was responsible for the " winning through." 
 
 The thought suggested the width of the contrast 
 between her life and Maisie's, whose path had been 
 swept so clear of all difficulties. Was it to her ad- 
 vantage? There were many times when I found it 
 difficult to believe that she was a daughter of this 
 woman with the happy face, and I wondered whether 
 the unselfishness of parents who put the happiness and 
 welfare of their children as the paramount, the only 
 object in their life, is not actually cruel in its result 
 upon character. Maisie had been a useless, helpless 
 butterfly in her father's house; in marrying she had 
 simply transferred these characteristics to another 
 dwelling. She did nothing but amuse herself, yet she 
 had no time for children. Why, I wondered, did men 
 not revolt why were they willing to carry the burden 
 of useless women upon their shoulders? 
 
 I looked at Mrs. Boynton and in admiration for her 
 grit, for her complete simplicity of heart, I realised 
 that for some time a fight had been going on inside 
 me between the sympathy and liking which Eddie's 
 mother awoke in my heart, and instinctive distaste for 
 her manners which were so different from my own 
 canons of good taste. It was a fight between the tradi- 
 tions of the Millers and the lack of such in the parents 
 of the man one of them had married. Even as I made 
 the contrast I was ashamed of feeling shame, and in 
 humility I realised that though Mrs. Boynton might 
 
 [194]
 
 The New Country 
 
 lack ancient lineage and a perfect manner, she had the 
 sturdy trueness, the absence of pretence or pose, the 
 simple kindness of heart which is the hall-mark of 
 good breeding. 
 
 It was a new point of view for Margaret Miller. 
 
 [195]
 
 Chapter Six 
 
 IN an effort to fill my time and keep my thoughts 
 from their longing for Meadowmere, I took to 
 wandering aimlessly about New York. It was on a 
 day towards the end of July that I found myself in 
 the lower part of Seventh Avenue. It was terribly 
 hot and every time an automobile or a trolley passed 
 swiftly in the road, a swirl of dust arose, eddied a 
 while and fell, almost it seemed in the same spot, as 
 though even its energy were tamed by the damp ener- 
 vating heat. And yet on the burning dusty sidewalks, 
 children were playing children with little foreign 
 faces. Great structures blocked a free vision of the 
 sky; huge pipes, resting on supports, twined and wove 
 above my head, while underneath my feet men were 
 digging and boring, so that the continual sound of 
 labour and voices made it seem as though I were walk- 
 ing over the heads of another race who lived below the 
 earth. 
 
 Such noise and dirt and ugliness how could chil- 
 dren grow in moral beauty in such surroundings? I 
 looked up at the vivid beauty of the intense blue sky, 
 at the glittering searching sunshine, and it was no 
 longer beautiful because I was hungry for grey skies 
 with only a fitful gleam of pale sun catching the tops 
 of mountains, for a landscape which was subdued, 
 [196]
 
 The New Country 
 
 calm, peaceful, which left a vague melancholy content, 
 instead of this restless, driving atmosphere around me. 
 
 I wandered on further downtown till, turning to the 
 left I found myself in another foreign quarter. For- 
 eign names stood over the shopdoors, foreign voices 
 sounded in my ears, foreign faces surrounded me 
 dark and often beautiful eyes, swarthy skins, quick 
 voices. 
 
 Why had all these people left their country? Why 
 had these peasants exchanged the quiet of green fields 
 and vine-grown slopes for noise and dirt? A woman 
 was sitting on a step nursing her baby ; her dark eyes 
 were staring vacantly over its head into the swarming 
 roadway, and for a moment I fancied that she was 
 dreaming of her old home, a cottage in a field perhaps. 
 Why had she left it? A quick sympathy with her 
 filled my eyes with tears ; we were both aliens, we had 
 both left our homeland. Was it the dream of wealth 
 which had brought her over here, or was it that other 
 dream of love, which had brought me too? Had she 
 followed her man over the seas did all these women 
 come for love of father, brother, husband, who in 
 turn were attracted to America by the lode-star of 
 every man money? 
 
 Sympathy broke through my usual reserve and I 
 touched the sleeping baby's hand. " You have a pretty 
 baby," I said. 
 
 Into her far-seeing eyes animation flashed, her face 
 altering from the half-melancholy brooding into a look 
 of gleaming animation. She nodded her head vigor- 
 
 [197]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 ously, looking at the baby with pride, " My baby yes 
 pretty baby, eh? " her soft Italian voice slurring the 
 consonants till it sounded like one liquid word. 
 
 "You are from Italy?" 
 
 " Yes Etalee cornea from Etalee." 
 
 " Why did you leave it ? " For a moment she 
 looked puzzled, then with her quick gleaming smile 
 and rapid moving shoulders " I cornea Etalee hus- 
 band he cornea Etalee." 
 
 " I see," I said smiling if love had been her reason 
 what was his ? " And do you like New York." 
 
 " Yes, yes, lika much plentee eat lika much." 
 
 Plenty to eat! Had that been the star which drew 
 them to another country, not even the desire for wealth 
 but enough to eat. After all what did the beauty of the 
 scenery matter if one had not enough to eat? I smiled 
 at this descent from romantic imaginations to mundane 
 necessities, then the sadness of it made my throat 
 contract and putting a coin in the baby's hand I 
 wandered on till weariness drove me home. The 
 courage, the pathos of these peasants who leave their 
 homes for an unknown and uncertain future ! 
 
 So July dragged by with seemingly never-ending 
 days and with the end of it came the terrifying 
 rumours of war. And when I knew that my country 
 was also in the whirlpool I felt that tremendous exal- 
 tation with which one sees the beginning of a great 
 sacrifice, not realising all the weary days of watching 
 and the pitiful losses before the end is attained. 
 
 England was at war ! And immediately all the years 
 
 [198]
 
 The New Country 
 
 at Meadowmere sent out their tentacles, drawing me 
 closer, making my life here seem unreal, unconnected 
 with the inner part of me. Awed by the thought of 
 the terrible possibilities, passionately, tenderly proud of 
 the immediate response to a pledge of honour, aching 
 for sympathy in the struggle which was before us, I 
 waited for my husband. 
 
 " Eddie ! It's come ! " I said tremulously as I met 
 him at the door on that fourth of August. " Oh, how 
 I wish I could do something! " 
 
 Looking pale and worried, he replied in an absent 
 tone, 
 
 " Yes, it's terrible. I don't know what's going to 
 happen, and the market has gone to pieces ! " 
 
 The words fell heavily on my craving for sympathy. 
 ' The market money is that all you ever think of? 
 I wish it would stay in pieces for ever and ever! " I 
 said bitterly as I went away from him. 
 
 No friction, nothing that had ever come between us 
 had so completely raised that menacing shadow of 
 estrangement. I was an alien in a foreign country, I 
 thought, and nationality seemed eradicably to sepa- 
 rate us. 
 
 Through the anxious days which followed, as letters 
 began to arrive telling me of friends who had joined 
 the great army of volunteers, inevitably I drew further 
 away from my husband. For he was one of those 
 around me, rich, strong, untouched by suffering, and 
 all my soul was tortured by the fate of my people, by 
 France and Belgium. With the blindness of injustice 
 
 [199]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 founded on suffering I blamed him that life around me 
 went on as usual. 
 
 I lived only in the war news, waiting anxiously for 
 mail Meadowmere was lent to the Government for a 
 convalescent home, they were all in it, each eager to 
 help while I was absent, cut off then came a letter in 
 Sir Mark's writing. He too was going. And once 
 disdainfully I had thought of him as old, contrasted 
 him with Youth. But he too was going. 
 
 Old affection held me, remorse ached in my heart, 
 and in that moment of supreme, passionate admiration 
 and sympathy, I regretted my choice. 
 
 [200]
 
 Chapter Seven 
 
 THE heat increased. As I read the war news in 
 Herald Square on a day in late August the 
 thermometer registered 98 and was still rising. It 
 seemed as if an end must come, as if I could not 
 endure my life any longer. When again I entered the 
 apartment the heat rushed at me through the open 
 door, and the sound of a piano and a gramophone 
 came through the open window. 
 
 Heat, such heat and noise and people. So many 
 people . . . 
 
 How lovely it would be at Meadowmere just then 
 cool breezes and flowers and trees, and above all 
 peace. The farm-yard would be dozing in the soft 
 afternoon sun, no one in sight, no sound so deli- 
 ciously cool down by the Mere, the light scarcely filter- 
 ing through the thick trees, so quiet and cool. 
 
 I want to go home. Oh God, I want to go 
 home! . . . 
 
 "Hello, kiddie, a bit warm, eh?" Eddie's voice 
 with its attempted cheerfulness awoke me. I raised 
 my disfigured tear-stained face to meet his astonished 
 gaze. " What is the matter ? " 
 
 With the courage of desperate longing I said firmly, 
 
 [201]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 " I want to go home, this place is killing me, I'm 
 stifling in the heat and noise and people. I want to 
 go to Meadowmere and help. They're waiting for the 
 wounded now. I can't stay here you must come with 
 
 me. I'll die I'll " I could not keep the rising 
 
 hysteria from my voice. 
 
 The anxious look became a little sterner. " You're 
 all in with the heat," he said gently, " I'll take a vaca- 
 tion to-morrow and we'll go to the beach." 
 
 " I don't want to go to the beach, there will be 
 thousands. I want to go home," I said desperately, 
 " there's nothing to stop us. You can make money 
 there just as well as here, and I can work all the time 
 for the poor boys. And some day in a peaceful 
 future we shall have Meadowmere and the delicious 
 sense of a real home. Oh, take me home, please, 
 please ! " 
 
 My arms were round his neck as I pleaded, looking 
 eagerly up into his face, but there was no sign of 
 yielding. His lips were grim, his brows frowning. 
 " Home ! " he said in a low voice, a little bitterly, " this 
 is your home ! " 
 
 " You can't call an apartment home it's " 
 
 He put my hands away. " This is my home at any 
 rate. If you are not satisfied you must go back to 
 England, but I'm afraid I can't come with you." And 
 he went out. . . . 
 
 And supposing I did go back, how little difference it 
 would make to him. How little I counted in his life. 
 I had had my dreams. I had wanted to be a com- 
 [202 ]
 
 The New Country 
 
 panion, a being who divided the duties of the dual 
 life of marriage with her husband. And now I wore 
 the clothes for which he paid, I telephoned to grocer 
 and butcher and gave a few orders. I sat at the 
 breakfast table, but I doubt whether he knew whether 
 I was there or not, so entirely and immediately was he 
 plunged into the financial news. During the few eve- 
 nings which we sometimes spent alone together, he was 
 either too tired to talk, or his thoughts were still on 
 the day's business ; he certainly would not have missed 
 me then. The half a dozen words of conversation 
 which were frequently all that passed could easily have 
 been dispensed with then bedtime and another day 
 gone, almost identical with the one which was likely 
 to come, hardly to be picked out from all those which 
 had passed. 
 
 I was ashamed to think that there was really only 
 one reason for my presence was this all that mar- 
 riage meant? Was there only the attraction of a 
 pretty face waning as soon as the newness wore away? 
 My mother's coldly spoken words came to me " If 
 he had not been like all you men, caught by a pretty 
 young face." Was she right? I had thought of love 
 as sacrifice and willing service, the power which had 
 made Nancy give up her well-loved home for the sake 
 of her child, the power which had made me willing 
 to leave everything which counted so much, for the 
 man I loved. 
 
 And to him I did not count nearly so much as 
 " Business." Out of the twenty-four hours of each 
 
 [203]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 day's existence, nearly half of them were given to 
 actual working at it, over the remainder it cast its 
 spell, for even when he ate or slept or talked with me, 
 I doubt if it were ever clearly out of his mind. From 
 this incessant occupation with the one subject he made 
 money which was spent on the decking of his wife in 
 peacock colours, on restaurants, theatres on living a 
 life from which neither of us could be extracting one 
 thing which would be of benefit to our future happi- 
 ness or welfare. 
 
 Jack Whiting worked just as hard, so did Mr. 
 Boynton. Yet the latter was a man of fifty-five who 
 ought to have been taking long walks, playing golf, 
 relaxing, saving energy for a healthy old age. He 
 must have made enough money to keep them in a quiet 
 simple way, but habit apparently kept his nose to the 
 grindstone, so that he knew nothing of the beauty of 
 the country or the voices in the trees. It was all 
 wrong. I thought of some of the men who lived in 
 Sunnydale one a retired banker, a man of fifty, with 
 a fat, jolly red face who almost lived in the open air, 
 whose laugh advertised his contentment; another, the 
 owner of a mill which was twenty miles away, " so 
 that I can't get too fond of it," as he said with 
 twinkling eyes. I thought of other men who went 
 away for vacations, coming back with new zest and 
 brown faces, men who sandwiched golf with busi- 
 ness so that in making enough money to live in peace- 
 ful comfort, they debarred it from being the main- 
 spring in their lives who were untouched by this 
 
 [204]
 
 The New Country 
 
 flame of success, fame, wealth, millions. If only it 
 had not scorched my husband's soul. . . . 
 
 The door-bell sounded, a low harmonious voice 
 spoke my name, and Mary Harden was in the room, 
 impulsively kissing me as she said eagerly, " I'm just 
 back from the country, and I haven't a moment, but I 
 had to come in just to say good-bye! " 
 
 " Where are you going now ? " 
 
 " To France," she answered passionately. " I can 
 drive any old car anywhere, I know something of 
 nursing, I'm an old business woman with a head which 
 cannot be turned or twisted. I can be of use." 
 
 I stood staring at her stupidly and then to her 
 astonishment I burst into tears. She put her arms 
 around me, " You poor dear, is it as bad as that? " 
 
 " No one seemed to care ! " 
 
 Her eyes flashed. " That's not true ! Thousands 
 of us are going. You're unjust." 
 
 " Forgive me, but I've been thinking and thinking 
 till I'm crazy. Take me with you, I want to help." 
 
 She shook her head. " Oh, my dear, I'm afraid 
 you're not the right kind, you're too sensitive, you've 
 never had to push your way through difficulties." 
 
 " I suppose you're right, I'm a useless kind of crea- 
 ture, I'm not any use here either, I'd better have stayed 
 at Meadowmere." 
 
 " No one is useless," she answered steadily, " you 
 can help here, by example, by spirit, and there's the 
 Red Cross, you can work for that " 
 
 " But I want to be in it, I'm so far away " 
 
 [205]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 " Maybe your duty is here," she said quietly. " I 
 must go, I haven't another minute, but I'll write you. 
 Good-bye." 
 
 With her going the flat again became empty and 
 lifeless. She told me to stay and work here while 
 she went into the eager emotional life of active help; 
 she left me with the cold ugly word of duty. 
 
 And the shadow which she had lifted descended, 
 grew more menacing. It seemed as though the pliant 
 woman were hardening, becoming more critical and 
 antagonistic. Eddie would never yield to me. And 
 as each estrangement weakened the emotion which 
 brought reconciliation, the menace of a future when 
 it should become powerless, deadened, became definite, 
 unbearable. 
 
 It was almost eleven when Eddie came in and his 
 white tired face made a rift in my hard resentment. 
 " Have you had any dinner ? " I asked abruptly. 
 
 " No, nothing, I've just been walking around." 
 
 My heart stirred to the admission in his words. The 
 maid had gone to bed and as I went into the kitchen, 
 the natural motherly instinct to feed a tired and hungry 
 man began to assert itself, softening resentment, allow- 
 ing an opening for old tenderness. 
 
 It was a wise old custom that of keeping open table, 
 for even the bitterest enemy's hate must soften while 
 his host is feeding him. As Eddie and I ate from a 
 tray at a corner of the table, enmity died down, and 
 with the acknowledgment of how much I had hurt 
 him, remorse came. He had been so proud of this 
 [206]
 
 The New Country 
 
 home, so keen to give me plenty of money, and if he 
 would not give me the thing I wanted most, was it 
 his fault that his nature drove him to this struggle 
 for success? 
 
 " I'm sorry I was cross," I said presently. " I was 
 tired with the heat and noise and I'm always worrying 
 about the war and every one over there." 
 
 " I know, it's terrible, it makes your blood boil. 
 We must help all we can. Dad and I sent off a check 
 to-day, as much as we could," he added awkwardly. 
 
 My heart opened completely in a flood of tender- 
 ness. He did care. I had misjudged him, I had 
 misjudged many, with us in heart and sympathy. The 
 sense of being alone, antagonistic, amid wealth and 
 comfort faded into a sweetening bond of unity. 
 
 I stood up and my arms went out to him. He 
 turned quickly and his strength crushed my body. 
 " It's terrible to me to think that I'm not making you 
 happy." 
 
 " You are," I said emphatically, for in the renewed 
 happiness of reconciliation, the misery of the day faded 
 into a pale hue which at the moment was scarcely 
 visible.
 
 Chapter Eight 
 
 IN the softened mood of reconciliation I took Mary 
 Harden's advice and joined the Red Cross where 
 Mrs. Boynton was already an ardent worker. But 
 there were still many hours of idleness which beat 
 against my determination not to long for Meadow- 
 mere. As I sat in the warm workroom with the con- 
 tinual roar of traffic and occasional sharper crash of 
 trolley-gong or automobile klaxon, the gauze bandages 
 with which my fingers were busy did not occupy my 
 thoughts. They would return to Meadowmere, they 
 would return to the longing to be there, to be among 
 those who were helping actively, anxiously, and once 
 hot tears dropped on to the bandage so that I had 
 to hide it out of sight. And gradually that insidious 
 resentment crept in again why couldn't we go back 
 to Meadowmere ? It was only because of Eddie's stub- 
 born will. I knew he could make money in England 
 just as well as here, for Mr. Haselton had laughingly 
 said, 
 
 " Well, Boynton, if you want a job in London, you 
 can always come to us! " 
 
 He could go, but he wouldn't. Resentment crushed 
 down the suggestion which common sense had ready 
 that if Eddie's business were in London, it would 
 [208]
 
 The New Country 
 
 be impossible to live in Sunnydale, it was too far 
 away; it could be managed somehow. 
 
 But he didn't care to do anything I wanted, terribly, 
 longingly. And this feeling simmered, eating into my 
 mind and many empty hours, into my body and nerves. 
 How I had laughed at any one who had complained 
 of nerves! Now I was conscious of nothing but 
 nerves, each one throbbing from a different angle, 
 making me feel sometimes as though I must scream, 
 as though I were filled by the one savage desire, to 
 hurt some one and make them suffer too. 
 
 When Eddie came home after such a day I could 
 not refrain from asking him again if he wouldn't take 
 a holiday, even a week. He needed it as badly as I 
 did, he looked tired and his easy temper was jumpy. 
 " Let's go," I said coaxingly, " leave all this stupid 
 business just for a week." 
 
 "What, with the market like this! I can't. I'd 
 like to, God knows, but I can't." 
 
 I flung away from him in anger. " No, you don't 
 love me enough to give up anything for me, you 
 always want the giving up to be on my side." 
 
 " That's not true. I'm working and grinding 
 all day and every day to give you everything you want 
 because I love you." 
 
 " No," I flared hotly, " it's because I happen to be 
 your wife. Even if you hated me, you'd go on doing 
 it, because I was your wife. It's the caveman instinct 
 to be proud of decking his woman in the finest he can 
 get just to show that he has been successful in the 
 
 [209]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 fight. It's not love for me, it's pride in showing what 
 you can give your wife. You like to have one of the 
 women I meet go back to her husband and say, ' Mrs. 
 Boynton had another new dress on to-day, a perfect 
 peach ! ' and for the man to reply with a sigh ' Gee, 
 Ed Boynton must be doing mighty well ! ' 
 
 " What more can I do ? Don't I give you all I can, 
 all the money you want ? " 
 
 " Money, money, I am sick of hearing that word. 
 I want peace, the right to live, not be just a spending 
 machine. I want a home. You give me money, in 
 fact everything but the one thing I want and which 
 would be some little sacrifice to you." 
 
 " You've made your choice," he said coldly, " I'm 
 doing the best I can for you." 
 
 I became less ashamed after each one of these scenes 
 which happened with increasing frequency. Harshly, 
 critically, I blamed Eddie. The shadow grew more 
 definite. Though we made no actual difference in the 
 way we lived, the heart was taken out of our relations 
 by the constant friction. Lacking companionship and 
 tenderness, lacking the spontaneous overflowing love 
 of the early months of marriage, they became sordid, 
 leaving no poignant memories behind. 
 
 What a contrast we offered to the people who re- 
 turned from the cool mountains or the breezy sea 
 with fresh spirit and gay voices! Maisie was radiant 
 in the sun of a new admiration and again I wondered 
 at her husband's tolerance. I had often been surprised 
 at the evident acceptance of Clarrie's dog-like devotion 
 
 [210]
 
 The New Country 
 
 which was displayed by her mother, and still more 
 that it should be displayed by her husband. To be 
 sure this Clarrie seemed harmless, with little to do and 
 plenty of money and I don't believe Maisie cared two 
 straws about him, or any one else for that matter. I 
 believe she was too cold and selfish to care for a man 
 except as a universal provider of universal clothes, 
 which position her husband had the honour of trying 
 to fill. And Clarrie was merely useful to take her out 
 to lunches or dances or dinners when her husband was 
 too busy providing money. But the thing was all 
 wrong. 
 
 And with the new admirer it seemed to me it was 
 likely to be still further wrong. For he was a very 
 different type to the gentle Clarrie and I disliked and 
 distrusted him, not troubling to conceal such feelings. 
 And thus when it happened that on one of the rare 
 occasions on which Eddie had found time to take me 
 out to lunch, Maisie and this man came into the hotel, 
 choosing a table next to ours, I barely spoke. Maisie 
 was never embarrassed but I was and this emphasised 
 my cold reserve. 
 
 When we had left them, Eddie said impatiently, 
 " I do wish you'd be civil to people we meet. He's 
 a friend of my sister's whatever you may think of 
 him." 
 
 " He ought not to be! If you weren't so engrossed 
 in your business, you'd recognise that he's an out- 
 sider." 
 
 " Oh shucks ! " he exclaimed savagely, " you're a 
 
 [211]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 darned sight too critical. Maisie can look after her- 
 self, she's too clever to have any real quarrel with 
 Jack. I do wish you'd take people as you find them. 
 It would be much pleasanter for everybody, and in- 
 stead of moping around and looking haughty, why 
 don't you go out more and enjoy yourself let yourself 
 go!" 
 
 A slow growing anger blurred my eyes. The man 
 by my side became remote, inimical ; all the intimate 
 moments of emotion which had made a unity of two 
 individuals became as dead as though they had never 
 been. In the heart of the cold woman who stood aloof 
 was a bitter hatred. He criticised me because I dis- 
 approved of a married woman fluttering around in this 
 constant glitter of admiration. Because I held aloof 
 from this extravagant crowd of women, who got their 
 husbands into debt, who kept them at the wheel to 
 gratify their extravagance. I saw in him only the 
 man who had conquered my instinct for remaining in 
 the place I loved and brought me into the midst of 
 strangers, and having attained his own passion for 
 getting the thing he wanted, found me no longer of 
 any value. 
 
 My mother's words blazed in my memory " If you 
 take her away from Meadowmere, you will rue it all 
 your life." 
 
 Very well, he should rue it I would a fury shook 
 my voice. " All right, I'll let myself go, and if I go 
 too far, you'll have yourself to blame!" 
 
 [212]
 
 BOOK FIVE: DEFIANCE
 
 BOOK FIVE: DEFIANCE 
 Chapter One 
 
 AS I lay awake with the sound of Eddie's steady 
 breathing in my ears, it seemed incredible that 
 his nearness had ever thrilled me, that I had ever had 
 an overmastering impulse towards the shelter of his 
 arms. In the cold enmity of the woman who had been 
 growing so magically older in a few months, there 
 seemed to be left no trace of the pliant girl with her 
 intense need for love and sympathy. The shadow now 
 stood forth, endurably, menacing the future, but the 
 old fear with which I had viewed it had changed into 
 defiance. 
 
 He had criticised me because of my instinctive rever- 
 ence for marriage. Deliberately I remembered his 
 short refusals to my few requests, the many indica- 
 tions that having got what he wanted, he had become 
 indifferent. Pride whispered that I owed it to myself 
 to prove that I too did not care. 
 
 I would unshrinkingly plan a future without tender- 
 ness, in which the old lack of self-confidence should 
 change into a perpetual demand for amusement, 
 clothes, admiration, sensations, everything which 
 Maisie seemed to find so satisfying. I would crush 
 
 [215]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 out the longing for Meadowmere, stifle anxiety about 
 the war, become a mere butterfly. It must be possible 
 to acquire this attitude, and the time must come when 
 I should be completely independent of tenderness, able 
 to stand alone, going my own way in a triumphant 
 surety and with no necessity to plead to my husband 
 for happiness. 
 
 Eddie awoke the next morning in high good 
 humour. 
 
 " Hello, kid, what are you going to do to-day? " he 
 asked in a cheerful tone as he came back from his 
 bath. It seemed impossible that this youthful, smiling 
 figure, with hair standing wildly in a wet and rumpled 
 mass could be the hard driving man of business with 
 the cold definite note of refusal in his voice. I looked 
 at him amazedly. Apparently he had forgotten his 
 words of the day before, or if he remembered them 
 they seemed unimportant, not worth the mentioning. 
 He did not realise that they had brought us to an 
 impasse, that hitherto life would go on differently. 
 "All right, Mr. Edward Boynton!" I thought 
 viciously, " You'll see ! " 
 
 " I'm going shopping," I answered coldly. 
 
 " Fine ! Hope you get something pretty and " 
 
 His voice trailed away into a series of grunts, as with 
 a reddened face he struggled with a tie which would 
 not slip. His entire interest was centred in it, he 
 really did not care what I was going to do the ques- 
 tion had just been one of idle good humour! 
 
 Still whistling cheerily he went in to breakfast, but 
 [216]
 
 Defiance 
 
 in a moment was back with a letter. " It's from 
 Robert Haselton. Says he's coming to New York in 
 about a month. Can we put him up, do you think? " 
 
 " Perhaps he'd rather stay at a hotel, but ask 
 him here by all means if you wish," I answered 
 casually. 
 
 I had a momentary vision of worldly blue eyes and 
 of an extreme courtesy to me which yet held something 
 satirical, disturbing. But I was glad he was coming. 
 At any rate he was familiar with Sunnydale, and the 
 prospect introduced a note of excitement into the 
 future I had planned. For it took all my pride to 
 resist the thought which labelled it " depressing." 
 
 As soon as Eddie had gone and with the desire for 
 outward expression of my new determination, I called 
 up Maisie. If he wanted for his wife one of those 
 smart women who were always gadding about, who 
 spent her husband's money as if it were sand, who 
 fluttered out to restaurant and cabaret with some 
 other man whose money was as plentiful as his time 
 was free he should have it! Again I resisted a 
 thought which suggested that hitherto no man had 
 shown any overmastering desire for introducing me 
 to such " fluttering." 
 
 The first step in the new program was the purchase 
 of fitting clothes. I was tired of being quiet and do- 
 mestic; no happiness had come out of it, so I would 
 try the other way. 
 
 "Hello, Maisie! Do you want to come with me 
 on a shopping bout? I'd like to have your advice." 
 
 [217]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 It was scarcely necessary to appeal to her vanity, 
 for to Maisie the simple act of spending money was a 
 never-failing source of excitement while the thought 
 of buying clothes was as much a lure to her as the 
 most thrilling drama that was ever produced. 
 
 " Sure," she answered, surprise in her voice, " What 
 do you want? " 
 
 " Oh, lots of things, an evening dress, a suit, etc., 
 and I want them smart and chic. I am tired of my 
 dowdy clothes. Do you think Madam will forgive me 
 for sending back that first dress, and receive me 
 again ? " 
 
 "I should say! She will forgive anything if it 
 brings money to her fist." 
 
 " All right, I'll call for you and take you out to 
 lunch, then we can have a regular riot of spending." 
 
 " Has Eddie been plunging and come out right? " 
 
 " I don't know what he's been doing," I answered 
 casually, " it's I who's going to do the plunging." 
 
 Mrs. Boynton kissed me with her usual heartiness, 
 as she said, " Hello, Margaret! What's this I hear? 
 The spending bug has got hold of you too. All you 
 young folks seem to get it sooner or later." 
 
 I laughed. " It seems to be all some of us have 
 to do." 
 
 She glanced at me shrewdly with her kind eyes. 
 
 " Maybe that's because some of us are blind. Aren't 
 you coming with me to the rooms this afternoon? " 
 
 " No," I answered quickly and defiantly, " I'm not 
 coming any more." 
 [218]
 
 Defiance 
 
 " Little quitter, and you English," she said un- 
 critically, almost jokingly. 
 
 But the words stung and I flung up my head. " Not 
 any longer. I'm going to be an American woman like 
 Maisie, have a good time and take all I can get." 
 My voice rose hysterically as I tried to keep it light 
 and casual. 
 
 She shrugged her shoulders. " Land's sake," she 
 said amiably, " you don't think we're all such butter- 
 flies as Maisie? Well, maybe you'll learn some day 
 and change your mind." 
 
 And as we were rolling comfortably down Fifth 
 Avenue in the sedan the memory of her kind eyes 
 came unpleasingly, hauntingly into my mood of de- 
 fiance and to get away from it I gaily laid before 
 Maisie the prospect of the visitor we expected. 
 
 "Haselton! Isn't that the man you were engaged 
 to?" 
 
 " No, his brother," I answered, as lightly, trying to 
 keep down a blush. 
 
 Her eyebrows lifted. "Oh, I see! So that's the 
 reason for the clothes? " 
 
 I started. The connection hadn't occurred to me, 
 the desire to get some clothes of an extreme fashion 
 being a single one, springing from rebellion. But at 
 Maisie's words my abstract summing up of the smart 
 wife became vital, vivid, raising a demon in my mind. 
 
 From under the attitude of cold defiance a rush of 
 exciting reckless suggestions emerged. Breathlessly I 
 realised that there was danger in this mood, but danger 
 
 [219]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 leavened monotony. Perhaps this self-confident, dic- 
 tatorial young man would learn that he could not neg- 
 lect me ! 
 
 And so I stifled my first impulse indignantly to deny 
 the connection between the clothes and Mr. Haselton, 
 and, with a light laugh, shrugged my shoulders. 
 
 " Oh, it's just that I think I have domesticated 
 long enough. I'm going to see what the other kind 
 of life is like." 
 
 But I knew Maisie's own experience would insist on 
 the connection. And somehow I felt a gratifying sug- 
 gestion of worldliness, of complacency in meeting her 
 standards. 
 
 As we were lunching, Clarrie turned up, amazingly 
 true to the instinct which seemed to enable him to pick 
 out the exact spot which happened to contain Maisie, 
 who still tolerated him in spite of the more definite 
 attractions of Roland. 
 
 The demon she had suggested became mischievously 
 active; for the first time I hid the indifference I had 
 always felt for this rather colourless young man; for 
 the first time I chatted and laughed with him, for the 
 first time I made a real effort to please. The cocktail 
 I had drunk had sent the colour to my cheeks and 
 sparkle to my tongue and the knowledge that Maisie's 
 eyes had been fixed on me as I carelessly tossed it 
 down in imitation of her ease, emphasised my new 
 attitude; for previously I had made a point of avoid- 
 ing them. 
 
 Soon I noticed that Clarrie seemed to be aware of 
 [220 ]
 
 Defiance 
 
 my presence, that there was a definite change in his 
 previous attitude which had always suggested that he 
 regarded me as something of a solid nature which 
 happened to be taking up part of the space around him. 
 My recklessness increased; so did this new and heady 
 feeling, the desire to please. Maisie's look gradually 
 grew sulky, for she did not like her own particular 
 star to be obscured, and soon dismissing Clarrie she 
 took me on to Madam's. 
 
 This time I chose one of the most daring evening 
 dresses I could find. It was tulle of a skilful blending 
 of colours from the deep blood glow of old Bur- 
 gundy to the palest shade of a blown rose. For the 
 moment I thought of a laughing Bacchante clothed in 
 just such a dress, holding up a sparkling glass filled 
 with the same deep red glow of wine. I said I would 
 have it before I knew the price. 
 
 "It's a dream! " said Maisie, " you'll look stunning, 
 if you have as much colour as you have now." 
 
 " Oh, it's easy to make sure of that," I answered 
 Hghtly, and to her further astonishment I bought some 
 rouge. I had condemned the practice so often that she 
 might well wonder. As we went home, I noticed her 
 puzzled glances. I could guess what she was think- 
 ing, that this change in me was due to the desire to 
 please Mr. Robert Haselton. 
 
 Involuntarily I shivered. For against my will my 
 heart was aching with a miserable pain. I hated him, 
 I hated everybody and this was the outcome of 
 barely a year's marriage. But I stamped out the 
 
 [221]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 pain by an appeal to this new attitude of defiance, and 
 pride added the necessary resistance. "Let yourself 
 go! " he had said. Eddie should certainly have what 
 he wanted, I thought scornfully. 
 
 He came in unusually early as I was changing for 
 dinner and his voice was cheerful as he said, " Well, 
 this is pretty good, isn't it? I determined to chuck 
 everything for once and here I am." 
 
 "What self-sacrifice!" I exclaimed, not interrupt- 
 ing the process of brushing my hair. 
 
 His face was reflected in the mirror and I could 
 see the smile change to a puzzled look. " Gee, what a 
 hearty welcome," he said ruefully, and taking a quick 
 step towards me, with his hands on my bare shoulders, 
 he twisted me around. " Is that all you have to say 
 to me?" 
 
 I held my eyes to their cool defiance. " Good 
 heavens, Eddie, you might have come from a long 
 absence at the North Pole! " 
 
 His hands fell swiftly and his face set into ugly 
 lines. 
 
 " It's a pity I made an effort to get off good and 
 early if that's how you feel." 
 
 " Oh, please don't let me interfere with business 
 again," I retorted lightly. But my heart was beating 
 with an undercurrent of fear for, in spite of pride, I 
 knew that I was completely burning all my boats, 
 setting more rigidly that shadow over the future. 
 
 Yet all through dinner I kept up the attitude of 
 amiable tolerance and when Eddie got up abruptly, 
 [ 222 ]
 
 Defiance 
 
 saying, " I'm going back to the office," I answered 
 sweetly, 
 
 " I supposed you would. But I shan't be lonely, I'm 
 going out with Maisie." 
 
 To be truthful the statement anticipated any ar- 
 rangement but when I called her on the 'phone she 
 eagerly agreed to the suggestion, adding, " Gee, Mar- 
 garet, you certainly have developed a sudden craze for 
 the gay life! Who can we get to go with us? Jack's 
 not in yet." 
 
 " Do we need any one ? " 
 
 " I should say we do," she answered sharply and I 
 wondered that Maisie, who gave an impression of 
 extreme freedom should be so conventional in actual 
 fact. " I'll call Clarrie, and then if Jack comes in soon 
 we can make a four." 
 
 " All right, I'll be along in half an hour." 
 
 Jack was still missing when I joined the party of 
 two and thus Clarrie's attentions were divided between 
 us. He was scrupulously careful to dance alternately 
 with Maisie and me, and as I was waiting for them 
 to return, eagerly interested in the vague excitement 
 which surrounded me, a stranger came up to our 
 table and with extreme self-possession said affably, 
 " Would you care to dance this with me? " 
 
 Instinct set my face into haughty annoyance what 
 fearful presumption! . . . "Let yourself go!" 
 ... I found myself assenting with a casual smile 
 and we were out on the floor. 
 
 Underneath the pleasurable sense of daring was 
 
 [223]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 amazement at myself, still more at the extraordinary 
 freedom of this kind of life; for my partner did not 
 seem to be meditating any sinister designs, and when 
 it was over he accompanied me to my seat with an 
 expression of pleasure and it was ended. He had 
 wanted to dance, I lacked a partner, that was all there 
 was to it as Maisie would have said. 
 
 " Who was that? " she asked inquisitively. 
 
 " I haven't an idea." 
 
 She looked at me with lifted brows. " Say, Mar- 
 garet, it does seem as though I ought to tip Eddie the 
 wink that he should keep an eye on you. When you 
 once get started you're some little speeder! " 
 
 Eddie was asleep when I reached home, or pretend- 
 ing to be, and with the feeling that yesterday was years 
 away, that I had lived through ages since then, I slept 
 immediately, without thought, remorse or longing. 
 
 So I cultivated Maisie and her friends, I imitated 
 their easy manner, their assurance, their light laughs, 
 their wonderful costumes. I gave several luncheon 
 parties, at a fashionable hotel, of course, as my home 
 was not fitted for smart entertaining. A new grow- 
 ing self-possession loosened my tongue and with the 
 help of a cocktail I could chatter and laugh as smartly 
 as any of the gay crowd, which first wondered, then 
 accepted me; soon I became a necessary adjunct to 
 their parties, a fashion as it were. 
 
 I did not find it difficult to continue smiling sweetly 
 upon Clarrie, he was a nice boy at heart, and fortu- 
 nately my aversion to Roland did not have to be over- 
 [224]
 
 Defiance 
 
 come, for he remained in favour for a very short time. 
 I believe that Maisie had not been able to convince him 
 that in spite of her acceptance of his interest, she had 
 a rigid regard for the proprieties, and so he had van- 
 ished. That was one of the things which continually 
 amazed me that Clarrie was content to dance at- 
 tendance upon her in this neutral character of a 
 friend. For as I began to know her better I realised 
 that Maisie considered her smiles, her chatter, her won- 
 derful appearance and excellent dancing an ample 
 reward to any cavalier who liked to take her to places 
 where these things shone. If he "got fresh" as she 
 termed it, she was quite capable of summarily rejecting 
 him. That was perhaps why Jack offered no open ob- 
 jections; he understood her perfectly. Nevertheless 
 I regarded his tolerance with contempt. 
 
 [225]
 
 Chapter Two 
 
 IN my search for a new attitude towards life, two 
 weeks went by, and still Mr. Haselton had not 
 arrived. In the two weeks nothing had happened to 
 interfere with an increasing round of gaieties indeed 
 nothing at all of any consequence had happened except 
 a growing estrangement between Eddie and me. 
 There were days when we scarcely met, when after a 
 theatre or supper party I would be too tired to get up 
 for breakfast, and he, after promising to come to such 
 affairs, would 'phone that he was kept at the office. 
 Each occasion hardened my resentment, while his 
 former cheeriness of manner decreased; the old self- 
 confident, sunny buoyancy degenerated into a firmness 
 which was almost sullen, and when he came home 
 early one day with something of his old manner visible, 
 I was surprised into asking, "What's happened?" 
 
 " I' ve good news. I've clinched a job as assistant 
 consulting engineer to the Bolton Company at five 
 thousand. They're great people, always putting up 
 new plants, and the old chief gets a dandy figure. It's 
 the beginning I've been looking for, and it's not come 
 too soon. We seem to get through the dollars quick 
 enough." 
 
 The suggestion of criticism in the last sentence held 
 [226]
 
 Defiance 
 
 in check my pride at his achievement. " That's splen- 
 did," I said, not too impulsively, " but do you mean 
 it's all settled?" 
 
 " Yes, I signed the contract to-day." 
 
 " But then " With the realisation that such 
 
 things were not finished in a day and that he had never 
 mentioned that he was trying for the job, I asked cas- 
 ually, " Then you have known about it for some 
 time?" 
 
 " Yes, I heard about it a month ago, but there was 
 no use saying anything till I knew it was sure, for 
 you'd only have been disappointed." 
 
 He treated me like a child ! He wouldn't tell me of 
 an important step which affected our future for fear I 
 might be disappointed. Or still more likely his silence 
 had been due to sheer indifference. 
 
 A letter was brought in. It was from Mr. Haselton 
 and he wrote, " I am sailing on the Baltic and shall be 
 delighted to stay with you a little while after my ar- 
 rival. For a week I think I ought to put up at a 
 hotel, for every moment will be taken up with tire- 
 some business engagements. After that I hope to relax 
 and shall look forward to seeing you both." 
 
 Both! I glanced at Eddie from under my lashes 
 and at the thought of disturbing his complacency, ex- 
 citement began to dance in my veins. I foretasted a 
 delicious triumph in making Mr. Edward Boynton rea- 
 lise that I was not a child, that I could very successfully 
 play the role of woman. 
 
 As I gave myself up to the anticipation, there was 
 
 [227]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 another thought hammering at my consciousness a 
 feeling of relief that it was not Sir Mark who was 
 coming, that there was no chance of a sudden meeting 
 with Mary Harden. For even in the short time, I had 
 changed so that the pose which was at first an effort 
 was becoming easier, more natural. I found that there 
 was an intoxication in this round of gaiety, so long as 
 one did not stop' to think, that it was easy to acquire 
 the smart flippant manner which passed for wit and 
 style. 
 
 But strangely enough though Eddie would often 
 laugh at a retort from Maisie, he looked annoyed when 
 I attempted an imitation. He was still interested in 
 social problems when he could spare a thought from 
 business details, and one evening as he was discuss- 
 ing unemployment with a friend he'd brought home 
 to dinner, I interrupted flippantly, 
 
 " You don't mean to tell me there is unemployment 
 in New York. Why, the powers that be seem to have 
 such a grudge against the city that I should think any 
 man with nothing to do would be just handed a spade 
 and a pick and told to go and dig. It wouldn't matter 
 much where he went, for there'd be little chance that 
 he wouldn't find himself next to some one else who was 
 also digging." 
 
 The guest laughed as he said, " It's a sign of our 
 progressiveness, Mrs. Boynton. We're always making 
 improvements." But Eddie's brows were creased by a 
 prodigious frown, and I had a moment's satisfaction 
 in feeling that I had penetrated his self-sufficiency. 
 [228]
 
 Chapter Three 
 
 WHEN Eddie went down to meet Mr. Haselton 
 he seemed to take it as the natural course that 
 I would go too. But gaily I made the excuse of an- 
 other engagement and without further comment he 
 went alone. I pulled a face at his retreating back 
 " You'll see ! " I thought triumphantly. 
 
 For I did not intend to meet Mr. Haselton until the 
 stage was set and that included the wearing of the 
 red dress which had hung in my wardrobe, a mute 
 reminder of the demon of recklessness. 
 
 Three days later when the stately Robert had ac- 
 cepted an invitation to dinner, I put on the flaming 
 dress with a feeling of inner excitement and when I 
 was ready stood before the mirror. 
 
 For a moment the mist of memory obscured the 
 actual figure, as I seemed to see a picture of very long 
 ago; a girl in a simple white dress with a young and 
 happy belief in her future of dreams. 
 
 I smiled bitterly and a woman smiled back at me, 
 with shining and excited eyes. They had lost their 
 wistfulness, but they had not gained content. Under- 
 neath the smile was disillusion, unhappiness. How 
 had that great-grandmother of mine gained that proud 
 happy contentment ? 
 
 [229]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 Then I glanced down triumphantly at my dress of 
 filmy tulle, and in spite of defiance my cheeks slowly 
 reddened. For the dress was such a long way off. 
 Before my eyes reached it they had to travel over an 
 endless expanse of white flesh white arms, and shoul- 
 ders and neck, the line only broken by a narrow band 
 of glittering stuff over the shoulders, and a narrow 
 band of bodice holding the filmy skirt. 
 
 I broke off one of the roses from the huge bouquet 
 which had come from Mr. Haselton, and tucked it in 
 my dark hair. And as I surveyed the picture my eyes 
 danced again and I whispered delightedly, " You are 
 beautiful, Carmen!" 
 
 I heard Eddie's latch key. He looked weary as he 
 came to the bedroom door, and stopped. 
 
 " Rather pretty, isn't it? " I asked casually. 
 
 " Yes, what there is of it," he answered just as 
 casually. But the touch of disapproval in his quiet 
 tone hardened me and I retorted flippantly, 
 
 " Oh, it's quite the latest fashion I can assure you. 
 Don't you think Mr. Haselton will feel honoured?" 
 
 Does that make you jealous, I wondered? For I 
 had never worn the dress, never shown it to Eddie. 
 
 To my astonishment a thought swept over me, sting- 
 ing my eyes to sudden moisture. If only he were kind, 
 if only he would tell me he liked the old wife best, 
 that this new fashionable woman was not the girl he 
 had married, that he wanted that girl back again! I 
 was amazed by the keenness of the sudden ache, by 
 the break in my studied defiance, a break which dis- 
 [230]
 
 Defiance 
 
 closed the desire for the old close intimacy and tender- 
 ness. It frightened me, disturbed my growing confi- 
 dence. 
 
 As Eddie turned away without another look, carry- 
 ing his shaving tackle into the bathroom, pride helped 
 me to crush down these feelings. He didn't care, why 
 shouldn't I enjoy myself, wring something out of life 
 to compensate for what it had lost. 
 
 When Mr. Haselton arrived I had my little triumph. 
 Even with his easy self-possession he could not hide a 
 moment of sheer astonishment; then the old raillery 
 had taken its place and he was greeting me with his 
 polished manner. But I was satisfied. 
 
 I had invited Maisie and her husband, a pretty fair 
 girl called Anna Kremlin, and another pair by the 
 name of Martin; they were all young, gay, eager for 
 pleasure, a fitting crowd to greet the woman in the 
 flaming dress. 
 
 "How is Sir Mark?" I asked under cover of the 
 chatter. 
 
 " He's still safe," and I thought he added a " Thank 
 God! " For a moment the deeper feeling which ap- 
 peared on Mr. Haselton's worldly face brought before 
 me the kind blue eyes and fine straight glance of the 
 man who was now fighting in the trenches while we 
 were making merry, and the memory of Mrs. Boyn- 
 ton's words " Little quitter " stung. I caught 
 Maisie's glance as it travelled from me to Mr. Hasel- 
 ton and for a moment the old Margaret which the 
 thought of Sir Mark had brought uppermost indig- 
 
 [231]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 nantly repudiated even the suspicion of such associa- 
 tion ; then as Maisie's eyes narrowed into their meaning 
 smile, Eddie's words flashed into my mind and I whis- 
 pered to myself, " My dear Margaret, you are too 
 prudish ! " With a light laugh I turned again to the 
 visitor and deliberately began the new reckless game 
 of enticement. 
 
 According to the gaiety and laughter, trie evening 
 was a great success, but when they had all gone I 
 thought of that first evening and the way in which 
 Eddie had seized my hands ; we were such good friends 
 then. To-night he sighed as if with relief and throw- 
 ing himself into his chair, he lit a cigar and stared 
 moodily at his shoes. 
 
 For the minute a feeling of pity made me wish to 
 stroke his hair back from his forehead and soothe the 
 moody lines, but suddenly he laughed ; it was an ugly 
 bitter laugh, and my heart hardened and I went to 
 bed. 
 
 We were to have lunch with Mr. Haselton the next 
 day, but at the last moment Eddie telephoned to say 
 he was kept in the office by an important client " But 
 you need not stay away on that account." 
 
 " Thank you ! " I answered ironically. 
 
 Though there was just the right amount of polite 
 regret at my husband's absence in Mr. Haselton's voice, 
 I thought I could still detect that undernote of raillery. 
 I really did dislike him. 
 
 " And how is London looking ? " I asked in the 
 light tone I was cultivating. 
 
 [232]
 
 Defiance 
 
 " London looks splendid but don't you want to 
 know about somewhere else? " 
 
 "You mean?" 
 
 "Sunnydale!" 
 
 My heart contracted Sunnydale, Meadowmere. 
 " Do you mean that you have been there lately ? " 
 There was no lightness left in my voice then. 
 
 " Just before I sailed. I thought you would want 
 to know all the latest news." I knew a momentary 
 trouble at the implication that he had gone there spe- 
 cially on my account, then everything else was for- 
 gotten as I poured out my questions about the place I 
 loved. 
 
 " I have been everywhere. I saw Martha, who told 
 me that Nancy was getting on splendidly and judging 
 from her letters was very happy. I talked to the 
 smith's wife and saw the latest baby. I inspected your 
 cottages, which, by the way, are models of perfection. 
 Every one sent their love, including Mark." 
 
 " You saw him, too." 
 
 " I spent a whole day with him when he had a short 
 leave just before going out. Poor fellow, I don't sup- 
 pose he'll get another leave for ages every man's 
 wanted so badly." 
 
 "And Meadowmere?" 
 
 " It's full of beds, full of men who are quietly happy 
 with the peace of those who have come from no peace. 
 Mrs. Miller's organisation of it as a convalescent 
 home is so perfect that there's a rumour that the Hall 
 will also be included in her scheme. She seems to be 
 
 [233]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 engrossed by her new role, in which she shines with 
 her usual efficient grace. I went all through. There 
 was one smallish room, on the second floor looking 
 right into the woods " 
 
 "On the extreme left?" 
 
 He nodded, perhaps surprised by the eagerness of 
 my interruption. " And in it was a Canadian officer, 
 suffering from shell-shock. He had an enormous 
 frame, he must have been one of those husky chaps 
 which nothing would seem capable of touching, and 
 here he was as helpless as a child, nervous, irritable, 
 haunted. I was turning away in the fear that I was 
 disturbing him, when I saw him settle down and a 
 suggestion of peace come into his drawn face. The 
 wind had freshened and just outside the window the 
 trees began to stir, a rustling thrashing sound which I 
 thought both melancholy and disagreeable. But the 
 strange part was that this poor fellow loved the sound ; 
 on a calm day he was restless, but as soon as the trees 
 began the murmur of their presence he became quieter. 
 They reminded him of his own woods he had 
 said." 
 
 He, too, loved the sound! This man who was 
 slowly coming back to life in the room which had been 
 my own for nineteen years ! 
 
 I bent my head as the surroundings faded in a blur 
 of tears. 
 
 But Mr. Haselton went on in a voice low and sym- 
 pathetic holding me spellbound by his knack of pic- 
 turing the places I loved. I forgot his personality, my 
 
 [234]
 
 Defiance 
 
 troubles, everything in the physical and mental ten- 
 sity of listening. And as he told me that poor old 
 Bruno was dead, the old Margaret had completely 
 triumphed over the artificial woman she was trying 
 to erect. 
 
 " Thank you for thinking how much I would love 
 to hear about the old place," I said when I could find 
 my voice, " it seems so long since I could talk to any 
 one about it." 
 
 " I am glad it has given you pleasure," he answered 
 quietly, and as I ventured to raise my head I saw that 
 the ironic look had gone from his face, even as the 
 light satire was absent from his voice. " I shall be 
 able to tell you more as I think of it. I'm coming back 
 with your husband to-morrow evening. Sure it won't 
 bother you to take me in for a few days? " 
 
 " No, we shall be delighted to have you." I was 
 quite sincere; I wanted him to come so that I could 
 hear more of Sunnydale. In his sympathetic picture, 
 my former dislike of him vanished, for it seemed 
 almost as though I had been there. 
 
 Nancy was happy, she had borne the transplanting 
 well and the sacrifice she had made for the sake of 
 her child had turned out to be for her own happiness 
 too. Why had it failed with me? I thought of the 
 sunrise I had seen from the hill-top, which I hoped 
 might be prophetic of the beauty of the day which was 
 coming to me, and instead it was full of dark clouds 
 through which I could not see the prospect of another 
 dawn.
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 The memory of the girl who had stood in that little 
 room, listening to the sound of the trees, hearing the 
 call of youth and love from her window, was bitter, 
 burning my heart by its contrast with the present.
 
 Chapter Four 
 
 JUST at first Mr. Haselton's presence in our little 
 apartment made me feel self-conscious. It was 
 so different from Meadowmere, where half a dozen 
 guests might be gathered in its great spaces and still 
 convey no sense of the intimate friendliness which 
 could not be separated from the one visitor in our 
 tiny flat. 
 
 Among our gay set he was an immediate and com- 
 plete success. Every one voted him delightful, over- 
 whelmed him with invitations. I, apparently, had been 
 unusual in finding anything to dislike in his smiling, 
 deferential manner which was always in evidence with 
 every woman he met; then, too, he had a knack of 
 remembering flowers or candy or a book some one had 
 mentioned which kept him in mind and rendered a 
 flattering homage. But it was not only the women 
 who liked him; his genial manner made him equally 
 popular with the men. A week passed in a constant 
 whirl of gaiety. 
 
 Yet it was not only gaiety that I associated with 
 him, for whenever we could drop out of the general 
 conversation, we talked of Sunnydale and Meadow- 
 mere and I looked forward to the few moments when 
 I could forget the present in his pictures of the place 
 I loved. That was a bond between us which had easily 
 
 [237]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 conquered my first dislike. And further I was flattered 
 by the subtle admiration he gave me, by the many 
 little acts he did which showed that he wished to please 
 me. He thought it was worth while taking some 
 trouble ; my husband did not. 
 
 And with this simmering resentment against Eddie's 
 neglect, I only smiled when Maisie said in her mean- 
 ing tone, 
 
 " He's a peach ! I quite envy you. How long is he 
 going to stay ? " 
 
 " Only till to-morrow with us, for Eddie has to go 
 to Pittsburgh on Monday to look at one of his 
 precious old plants and as he won't be back till 
 Wednesday or Thursday, Mr. Haselton's going back 
 to his hotel." 
 
 " Too bad ! " She looked at me with a knowing 
 smile as her white teeth bit through a chocolate almond. 
 
 Though I disliked her half-malicious smile, the 
 innuendo flattered the self-importance which had been 
 stung by her former contemptuous attitude towards 
 my uninteresting standards, and I answered lightly, 
 " Oh, but he'll still be in New York! " 
 
 Nevertheless, when Eddie went away on Monday 
 morning with a casual, " Good-bye, I needn't say that 
 I hope you won't be lonely. I guess you'll find plenty 
 to amuse you," I wondered if he, too, was referring to 
 Mr. Haselton. I glanced swiftly at his face was he 
 jealous? But it was woodenly expressionless. 
 
 " Oh, I shan't see you much less than I do when 
 you're living here ! Good-bye." 
 
 [238]
 
 Defiance 
 
 He hesitated for a moment with his finger on the 
 elevator button. " You know, Mother will be delighted 
 to take you in till I come back if you should feel 
 lonely." 
 
 " Thank you very much." My tone was casual, and 
 as the elevator shot up he entered it without a back- 
 ward glance. 
 
 I had not the slightest intention of staying with Mrs. 
 Boynton. The new role demanded a completer inde- 
 pendence than that, even if it had not already made a 
 rift in the kindly feeling I had begun to have for her. 
 She was Eddie's mother ; thus she shared in the resent- 
 ment I felt against him and the rift was slowly 
 widened by the irritating knowledge that of late her 
 shrewd eyes had often been upon me. I had begun to 
 avoid her, but as I was waiting for Maisie, who was 
 driving us to a luncheon party, Mrs. Boynton arrived 
 at the apartment. 
 
 " Hello, Margaret," she said affably. " You two off 
 again ! Why don't you come and have dinner with me 
 to-night, seeing you're a grass widdy ? " 
 
 ' Thank you all the same, but I can't. Mr. Hasel- 
 ton's taking some of us to dinner and the theatre." 
 
 " Oh yes, of course, how thoughtless of me. I 
 should have known he'd be doing something." I 
 glanced at her quickly, but she was still smiling. 
 " Well, perhaps to-morrow." 
 
 "The Martins are giving him a party to-mor- 
 row." 
 
 " Bless me, doesn't it seem like Mr. Haselton had 
 
 [239]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 become an indispensable part of our lives? What a 
 pity he has a wife and children in London or maybe 
 he'd consider transferring his job right here, and then 
 how happy we could all be." 
 
 Her tone was outwardly devoid of intention but as 
 I turned away to join Maisie, I could feel the colour 
 rising in my cheeks. And all through the evening her 
 words kept flitting in my memory, so that when Mr. 
 Haselton, having accompanied me up in the elevator, 
 paused to say, " You are different to-night. Am I to 
 blame?" self -consciousness pierced my successful 
 woman-of-the-world attitude and I am afraid my tone 
 was not so light as I intended " Perhaps I am a bit 
 tired, but I enjoyed it immensely." 
 
 " I, too, as always." 
 
 I bowed demurely. " The Martins are waiting for 
 you!" 
 
 " The hint direct. All right, I'm going, good night." 
 
 When I had shut the door I stood a moment breath- 
 ing quickly. For while bowing over my hand his lips 
 had touched it gracefully, casually, without apparent 
 purpose. Yet the entire novelty involved it in mean- 
 ing. 
 
 On the hall table were some letters and as I took 
 them up abstractedly, my mood changed. For they 
 were from Mary Harden and Sir Mark. 
 
 I read her letter first It was cheerful, almost casual 
 
 in tone but underneath there was passionate sympathy, 
 
 a devotion which animated days without proper sleep, 
 
 awful conditions, things which tore the heart. Under 
 
 [240]
 
 Defiance 
 
 Sir Mark's cheerful words lay the same suffering for 
 the losses of his men. 
 
 And the longing to be with them which swept over 
 me was so fierce that it was torture, contracting my 
 throat with the intolerable pain. To be with them, 
 working and enduring for the same cause. The 
 thought of Robert Haselton's admiration became 
 degrading; I hated him because he was here safe, 
 jovial, untouched by the tragedies which Mary saw, 
 because he was not fighting by the side of the brother 
 who was so much older. I hated myself still further. 
 
 The mood lasted into the morning so that when I 
 heard his voice on the 'phone I answered coldly, refus- 
 ing the luncheon which he suggested. Without the 
 incentive of excitement and pleasure, the day dragged 
 interminably ; the longing for company, for something 
 to deaden thought was growing stronger when a great 
 glowing bouquet was brought by a messenger violets 
 and orchids blending their delicate mauves and yellows. 
 And as I touched their beauty, the desire to please rose 
 insistently till elation drowned all but this new sense 
 of power. I had thought little of the fact that Clarrie 
 had not seemed entirely unwilling to transfer his al- 
 legiance to me ; he was only a boy, but Robert Haselton 
 was different, a man of the world, a clever money- 
 maker, a power. Without wit or wealth or great 
 beauty I could wield my influence over a man like this ; 
 out of the crowd of pretty women he had met, I was 
 the one for whom his light casual tone altered into 
 seriousness.
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 The coldness of my refusal to lunch had apparently 
 added depth to Mr. Haselton's sincerity. My spirits 
 rose in the intoxication of this game of allurement; 
 next day I left myself no time for thought. 
 
 It was after midnight on Wednesday when Eddie 
 arrived home. I had just come from a party in which 
 I had tasted to the full this heady sense of power, the 
 excitement of it still bubbled in my veins, shone from 
 my eyes. 
 
 Eddie looked tired but his voice was good-natured, 
 
 " Hello, Margaret ! I had to make a mighty rush 
 to get home to-night but it was worth it. You look 
 pretty good to tired eyes. Did you miss me? " 
 
 " Not a bit," I smiled up at him under my lashes. 
 
 His eyes glinted as he came nearer, " You've got a 
 nerve to say that ! " 
 
 I eluded him, retreated, still smiling, conscious that 
 the old passion was softening his eyes, conscious of the 
 dazzling sense of power in being a woman. 
 
 My foot touched the wall and I stood there, leaning 
 against it smiling. And even as the strength of his 
 arms held me breathlessly, through the triumph swept 
 a stinging memory of the girl who had so shyly and 
 innocently stretched out her arms to the future. 
 
 [242]
 
 Chapter Five 
 
 A? the end of two weeks Mr. Haselton was still 
 with us, and when the days crept into three, he 
 said laughingly, 
 
 " I don't believe I shall ever finish all the business 
 I can do here. It seems to be always surrounding me 
 and tempting me to stay. I suppose I shall just have 
 to leave it I must go back next week." 
 
 " We shall all miss you awfully/' I said lightly, but 
 conscious of a feeling of flatness. He had made life 
 pass pleasantly and seemingly that was all I could ask 
 of it. 
 
 " Oh, don't put such a pleasant thought into the col- 
 lective all, it sounds so impersonal." There was an 
 almost inappreciable suggestion of intimacy in his tone. 
 
 " I shall miss you," I answered softly, receiving a 
 grateful glance. " We must have a grand farewell 
 party. I'll talk to Eddie about it." 
 
 " Eddie," I said that evening, " do you know that 
 Mr. Haselton has to go home next week ? " 
 
 " Has he really ? " he answered in a peculiar tone. 
 Was he jealous? Had his complacency been pierced 
 I wondered triumphantly? But as I looked at his in- 
 different face I concluded that it was just part of his 
 
 [243]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 general disagreeableness which had been more than 
 ever in evidence since the night of his return from 
 Pittsburgh. 
 
 " Yes, I thought it would be nice to give him a send- 
 off party. What do you say, shall we make it next 
 Friday?" 
 
 "Sure, will you fix it?" His tone could hardly 
 be called enthusiastic, but this cold polite note had 
 become so usual that it had lost most of its early sting. 
 
 I asked the same crowd which had come to the first 
 dinner party. Mrs. Boynton tried to refuse, saying 
 with her hearty smile, " No, I guess the old folks 
 won't come in on this deal. We'll let you young people 
 enjoy yourselves," but upon Eddie's insistence she 
 shrugged her broad shoulders and chuckled, " O.K. 
 Ed, what you say always goes." 
 
 When I told Mr. Haselton what we planned and 
 asked if the date would suit him, he answered with the 
 smile which was baffling, 
 
 " Perfectly, dear lady, I shall be delighted to come, 
 and may I ask one last favour ? " 
 
 " Of course," I answered smiling, " Shall not the 
 parting guest have all that he desire ? " 
 
 " All if that were possible! Yet if not all, at least 
 this, will you wear the dress in which you greeted 
 me?" 
 
 " Your wish shall be observed with pleasure ! " 
 
 Yet in spite of the casual lightness of our tones, my 
 pulse quickened. Underneath his easy manner he 
 always managed to convey a sense of intimacy, a feel- 
 [244]
 
 Defiance 
 
 ing of expectation. But so perfect was his outward 
 manner and so gradually had we drifted into a dis- 
 cussion of subjects beyond the barrier of mere ac- 
 quaintances that I was scarcely surprised when he 
 leaned forward and said in a tone more deeply serious 
 than usual, 
 
 " Forgive me for speaking, but I can see you are 
 unhappy can't I help you? " 
 
 " Do I wear my heart on my sleeve to all that ex- 
 tent ? " I asked with a light bitterness. 
 
 " No, no, but I have watched you more closely than 
 others, you see I am interested in my country- 
 woman ! " 
 
 His tone was normal, but my heart beat a little 
 quicker under the subtle note of admiration and sym- 
 pathy and my own colour vied with the rouge as he 
 added, " I hate to see you unhappy. Why do you 
 stand it?" 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " Neglect ! " he answered boldly, meeting my eyes. 
 
 For a second loyalty sent a wave of anger over me 
 how dared he! Then the hurt pride that another 
 had noticed the neglect drowned everything but resent- 
 ment and antagonism against my husband as I burst 
 out, 
 
 "What can I do?" 
 
 " Why don't you end it, and go home? " 
 
 He had put into words the half-formed thought 
 which had been hovering in my mind for days. Why 
 shouldn't I, indeed ? I was not wanted here. 
 
 [245]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 Then as I saw sympathy fade from his face, I 
 noticed that the Martins had come to the table next 
 to that at which we had been lunching, and recovering 
 my flippant manner, I said, 
 
 " Thank you for your advice." 
 
 " It is always at your service," he answered in the 
 same tone. 
 
 As the days in that last week passed the nervous 
 tension increased. There was a party at the Whitings', 
 at the Martins', at the Boyntons' dinners, restaurants, 
 cabarets, everything to show the popular Mr. Haselton 
 how much we should regret his departure, till by the 
 Friday morning, the day before he was to sail, and 
 the day of the farewell dinner, I felt as if I were a 
 piece of quicksilver, excited, reckless, eager for every 
 moment to be filled. All the more did I strain after 
 incessant amusement as I began to realise that for the 
 last week there had been a terrible weariness under- 
 neath my gaiety, a feeling of physical languor so great 
 that it seemed that if I stopped the spring would snap 
 and I would sink into apathy or oblivion. 
 
 I was burying my face in the fragrance of the roses 
 which had just arrived and thinking what an artist 
 Mr. Haselton was in these matters, how he had 
 matched the tones of my dress to perfection from a 
 deep red, so deep that it seemed as if they glowed with 
 active vital life, to that of the soft pale pink of a hot- 
 house rose when the telephone bell rang. Was it 
 from some hidden feeling that I could not analyse, or 
 was it because my highly-strung nerves tingled at any 
 [246]
 
 Defiance 
 
 sudden sound that the jangle of the bell sent my heart 
 racing in that painful erratic way? 
 
 " Hello," said Eddie's voice, " I'm mighty sorry, but 
 I've just had a call to Philadelphia." 
 
 " To Philadelphia," I echoed, " why, you can't pos- 
 sibly go there, have you forgotten about to-night? " 
 
 " No, I haven't forgotten, but there's been an acci- 
 dent to a plant just the other side, and I have to tear 
 right away. It has to be, I'll 'phone Haselton and 
 make apologies." 
 
 ' You can't go, you must stay, you must be there 
 to-night," I said breathlessly. 
 
 " Don't be say, I can't stay to argue, my train goes 
 in ten minutes. I tell you I'm terribly sorry," his 
 voice rose in irritation, " but I must attend to my job. 
 Have a good time and I'll try and get back before the 
 evening is over. Good-bye." 
 
 " Eddie ! " my voice rose urgently, " Eddie ! 
 Don't go ! " I waited a moment, there was no reply. 
 He had gone! 
 
 " I must attend to my job " always that, always 
 business, money, success was that all there was to 
 his job? Yes, in his eyes nothing else mattered; for 
 all the interest I was in his life I might as well be out 
 of it. He wouldn't miss me. What a fool I had been 
 to think I ever counted. When had he made any sacri- 
 fice for me? Never! I was just something he had 
 wanted, but which he would have done without if it 
 entailed any sacrifice of the things which really meant 
 much to him money, success, achievement, he thought 
 
 [247]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 of nothing else. What was the use of staying? Why 
 shouldn't I go ? The idea grew with the anger, resent- 
 ment and sense of injury burning in my heart. I had 
 given up everything, why should I do so any longer, 
 why shouldn't I go back to my home and forget all 
 this, put it out of my life? Mr. Haselton's advice 
 flickered in my mind it would hurt Eddie's pride, 
 perhaps that way it might make him suffer ! 
 
 As I walked past a mirror I stopped quickly at the 
 sight of my reflection, seeing a pale face and hard 
 eyes. I looked incredibly old without the rouge and 
 without the glow of excitement excitement, was there 
 not still to-night ! I need not begin to think until after 
 that. I must not begin to think; gaiety and amuse- 
 ment failed lamentably if one allowed a thought to 
 creep in between their ceaseless search. 
 
 And in a fury of restlessness I passed the day until 
 by the time evening came I could scarcely stand. The 
 dragging weariness frightened me and under the im- 
 pulse of this fear I went to the stand where Eddie 
 kept his cocktail stuff and pouring out some of the con- 
 tents of the first bottle I touched, drank it at a gulp. 
 The taste was villainous, but the effect was instan- 
 taneous, the blood flowing again into my veins and 
 when I went into the gaily decorated room of the hotel 
 I sought Mr. Haselton with a smile which was as gay, 
 as audacious as I wished to have it. 
 
 Every one who was invited was there except 
 Eddie. The wine and gaiety kept the glow alive, but 
 every now and then the lights and noise faded into a 
 [248]
 
 Defiance 
 
 blur through which I seemed to see a tired white face 
 with grimly closed mouth and hard grey eyes. I was 
 frightened by these moments of apathy, of semi-con- 
 sciousness and once as I recovered, touching my hot 
 head with hands which were cold and trembling, I 
 caught Mrs. Boynton's calm wise eyes with their cheer- 
 ful smile which just then was veiled by anxiety. She 
 was always watching me. Why didn't she look after 
 her own daughter? What were my affairs to her? 
 And resentment gave me strength to catch once more 
 the excitement and audacity. 
 
 I struggled against the feeling of relief when the 
 party began to break up. I wanted to go to bed, to 
 give way to this desire for rest, to give up the struggle. 
 But as we put on our wraps in the dressing-room, Mrs. 
 Boynton manoeuvred me away from the rest of the 
 laughing, chattering women and said in a low voice, 
 
 " Margaret, you look all in. Come along with us, 
 Popper and I will give you a lift in our taxi as Ed 
 hasn't turned up." 
 
 She was Eddie's mother that was all I could think 
 of as I answered haughtily, " Thank you very much, 
 but Mr. Haselton has offered to see that I get home 
 safely." 
 
 For a moment she hesitated, then patting my arm, 
 with a kind look in her eyes, she went on, " Never 
 mind about him, you come along with us. I never get 
 a chance of talking to you these times and you know 
 I'm a kind of chaperone when Ed isn't along," she 
 added whimsically. 
 
 [249]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 The words drove me to sudden fury " I don't 
 want a chaperone. Why don't you look after your 
 own daughter ? " 
 
 " Oh, I keep an eye on her, all right," she answered 
 calmly. " Besides, I know my Maisie, bless you, she's 
 got a hard little head. But you are different, Mar- 
 garet, and somehow lately you've seemed to be so 
 changed, and I'm real real fond of you, can't I 
 help?" 
 
 Her kind beseeching eyes appealed to my tired long- 
 ing to give everything up, to throw myself into her 
 arms, and rest I longed for rest ..." Let your- 
 self go " a nice tame ending to an an episode to 
 drive home with my husband's mother. As the 
 anxiety in her usually placid face deepened, it added 
 to my fury of resentment. If my husband had no 
 time to look after me, there were others who "No, 
 thank you," I said icily and joined the others. 
 
 As Mr. Haselton and I drove away, the last thing I 
 saw was Maisie's look. It rallied my power of over- 
 coming the weariness so that I was able to smile. 
 " I'm sorry you have to go. I shan't have any one to 
 talk with about Sunnydale." 
 
 "Is that the only reason?" he asked, bending to- 
 wards me. 
 
 "Of course," I looked at him demurely. 
 
 " Supposing business brought me back, would you 
 welcome me? " 
 
 "With all our hearts!" 
 
 The ironical smile covered the look which had stirred 
 [250]
 
 Defiance 
 
 the demon of recklessness in me. " Let's make the 
 most of the present. What do you say to looking in 
 at a cabaret? That is, of course, if you think your 
 husband won't mind." 
 
 They were just the words to make me agree, what 
 right had he to mind, he didn't take the trouble to look 
 after me? 
 
 "He's not here, is he?" I answered lightly, "let's 
 go and say good-bye to Broadway." 
 
 Underneath the gaudy glitter of the place, under- 
 neath the reckless gaiety I assumed, underneath the 
 tense sense of expectation which was exhilarating, I 
 was every now and then conscious of that overwhelm- 
 ing weariness of body, when my mind seemed to be 
 floating in the air while my body acted like a weight 
 trying to drag it down. Sometimes I seemed almost 
 to lose consciousness and then I drank more wine to 
 feel again its rebounding glow through tired veins. 
 
 There was no sound in the apartment as Mr. Hasel- 
 ton opened the door for me so Eddie had not come 
 home! 
 
 A clock struck two. " Good night! " I said, smiling 
 that frivolous smile, " or good morning, we'll be down 
 to see you off, of course, and say good-bye. And 
 maybe I'll see you in England before long." 
 
 " You're coming home? " 
 
 " One never knows ! " 
 
 He was still holding my hand. " I won't risk it 
 I'd rather say good-bye now while we are alone," he 
 said in a low voice. 
 
 [251]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 " Good-bye," I stammered breathlessly. 
 
 His face came nearer; with the shedding of the 
 ironic conventional smile and of the kind serious in- 
 terest in the things I liked it held an expression I 
 loathed. And immediately I was no reckless woman 
 of the world, but a foolish trembling creature who was 
 terrified by the consequence of that recklessness. 
 Again weariness was dragging at me, taking away all 
 power of thought or speech. Through the instinct of 
 fear and repulsion I backed away, mechanically, sup- 
 porting myself with a hand on the hall table. 
 
 My fingers touched an envelope. For a moment we 
 stood facing each other, and then my brain cleared 
 enough for me to read the address. 
 
 " Why, it's for you," I said, laughing shakily, " they 
 must think you are still staying with us." 
 
 " I don't want to see it do you think I can see any- 
 thing now, think of anything but you? " 
 
 " You must open it. See, it's a cable." 
 
 Impatiently he took it from me " It could wait ! " 
 he said sulkily. 
 
 But as I watched him read, it seemed as though I 
 saw the man slowly dissolving into a ghost. The dark 
 sparkling eyes grew paler, the full flush on the hand- 
 some face faded into a greyish pallor, the whole 
 portly glowing figure seemed to shrink. I heard him 
 mutter, "My God!" 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 "It's Mark " He stammered " Mark my 
 
 brother " 
 
 [252]
 
 Defiance 
 
 " Mark ! " I whispered, the name flooding my brain 
 with memories, " Mark ! What's the matter with 
 him?" 
 
 " He's dead shot killed in action. Poor old chap ! 
 I loved Mark!" 
 
 Mark the man of honour, of dignity, of kindliness, 
 who had never done an evil deed, whom every one 
 loved, who had loved me, who had given me up with- 
 out a bitter thought. Dead ! Fighting for his country, 
 
 while I If I had suddenly had to meet him then, 
 
 what shame to stand before those keen kind blue eyes, 
 filled with the loveliness of living and let them see the 
 change in the girl he had loved. With a long shiver I 
 tried to gather my dress about my bare shoulders, 
 while I drew my hand harshly across my rouged lips. 
 What shame and remorse! 
 
 Then I saw the dull eyes of his brother looking at 
 me through a cloud which whirled and whirled. It 
 spread, eddying and circling until there was nothing 
 stable to stand upon; the dragging weariness was 
 mounting up my body, clutching now at my tired brain. 
 
 " Mark, Mark! " I screamed, " save me! " Sway- 
 ing, I tried to put away the hands which were coming 
 to help me, but with the effort the weariness won, 
 and I fell into the blackness of unconsciousness. 
 
 [253]
 
 BOOK SIX: SUNRISE
 
 BOOK SIX: SUNRISE 
 Chapter One 
 
 I HAVE a vague memory that through the night 
 there was unusual activity in the apartment, that 
 bells rang, and lights flashed, and a strange face bent 
 over me, disturbing my tired body, but it was not until 
 very early in the morning that I became fully con- 
 scious. I turned my head and could just distinguish 
 a huddled figure in a chair. His face was pale and his 
 head had fallen forward in an uneasy doze. It was 
 my husband, and I put out my hand and touched him. 
 Immediately he was on his feet, bending over me. 
 
 " Eddie, what has happened ? Why are you there, 
 sitting in your clothes? " 
 
 " I came in about two to find that you had fainted. 
 Haselton couldn't get you round so he had 'phoned 
 for a doctor and had gotten the girl up to look after 
 you. He said he had had a cable that his brother was 
 killed and that the news had knocked you over. I 
 didn't mean to go to sleep for fear you needed any- 
 thing, but I was so doggoned tired." 
 
 I turned my head away again. The memory of the 
 night before came in a vivid rush of shame.
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 " And further the doctor has left strict instructions 
 that you must rest for several days." 
 
 " But how absurd, why I feel heaps better, it was 
 just that I have been doing too much gadding about." 
 
 " But it's not absurd, you must, or he says it may 
 be serious." 
 
 His halting manner and entire lack of the usual 
 self-confidence surprised me "What may be 
 serious ? " 
 
 Immediately the tired lines of his face relaxed into 
 a happier expression " You didn't know, oh, I'm 
 glad, I thought it was because we'd got adrift some- 
 how, that you hadn't said anything. It hurt like 
 blazes, because you knew how happy I'd be." 
 
 Happy! my heart seemed to stop and then bound 
 on again in a painful erratic pulsing, as understanding 
 came. " Oh, Eddie ! " He leaned over me till his 
 cheek rested on mine. 
 
 In the midst of those reckless days since Haselton's 
 coming when I had tried not to think, not to feel, just 
 to live in a continual state of excitement, I had never 
 given a thought to the possibility of a child. For that 
 would have softened my heart and I had been bent only 
 on hardening it. Now facts crowded into my mind 
 with simple conviction. And I was bitterly ashamed 
 to think that the prospect of such a trust had been 
 given to me who had been living in the excitement of 
 another man's admiration. As my thoughts went back 
 to Sir Mark, shame grew. How I had fallen from 
 that high place to which he belonged, to which his 
 [258]
 
 Sunrise 
 
 death was dedicated even as his life. For he had died 
 as he had lived without thinking of self, and even in 
 passing away he had helped me, had saved me at least 
 from the touch of another's lips. 
 
 Then out of the shame hope gradually began to 
 grow. 
 
 I remembered how the reckless woman-of-the-world 
 had changed so pitifully when the actual consequences 
 of her recklessness had surrounded her. It had been 
 exciting enough, in a mood of hard defiance, to plan 
 the intoxicating game which was to end in triumph, 
 but how the real Margaret had shrunk from that end 
 which in its attainment had become ugly, sordid, ter- 
 rifying. To the knowledge of that shrinking was 
 added the thought of Mark's death and in the follow- 
 ing hours of blackness, it seemed as though a veil had 
 been drawn over the past. With this new knowledge 
 which had come with the dawn, like it bringing the 
 hope of a new life, resentment and defiance faded. 
 
 As I saw the white weariness of my husband's face, 
 to which a touch of helplessness was given by the 
 closed lids, my tenderness for everything which was 
 hurt and tired went out .to him poor, poor dear, how 
 badly I had looked after him. My eyes burned and 
 as a tear rolled down my cheeks and touched his, he 
 raised his head. 
 
 " Eddie," I whispered, " I must talk to you, I must 
 tell you " 
 
 " You mustn't talk now, you must rest. I'll make 
 you some tea." 
 
 [259]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 As I lay there, folding to my heart the happiness of 
 this new knowledge, I knew that under all resentment 
 and irritation, under the process of settling down to a 
 new life, the passionate love for my husband still lived. 
 That was why I had suffered so deeply, why the excite- 
 ment of finding a stimulus in fresh admiration had 
 never filled my heart. And in the wonderful peace I 
 was finding in the new sense of kinship between the 
 enduring trio, husband, wife and child, I was tempted 
 to say nothing of the past; nothing had really hap- 
 pened, it would be easier for both of us if I forgot it. 
 Then Eddie's stalwart words came back to me 
 " Wouldn't it be better to face things like a sensible 
 man and woman? " Yes, that was the better way 
 after all, to have complete truth between us, and then 
 put that past away, never think of it, never talk of it, 
 begin again. 
 
 Presently Eddie was back, and as he came in quietly, 
 carrying a tray, the sight of the queer medley he had 
 brought filled my heart with a tenderness which had in 
 it chiefly the mother-love. For he looked so helplessly 
 masculine, so humble in a role which was foreign to his 
 usual businesslike competence. 
 
 " I don't know where that girl puts things," he said, 
 " but I've done the best I could, and I hope it will be 
 O.K." The cloth was many sizes too big for the tray, 
 the surplus hanging over the edges in clumsy festoons, 
 there was an odd pitcher of milk, an old teapot and as 
 he raised the cover to show me the dandy toast he had 
 made, I laughed shakily, the tears not far away. 
 [260]
 
 Sunrise 
 
 " Why, Eddie, that's a cheese dish! " 
 
 " Gee, is it ? What do you think, but the contents 
 won't taste any the worse, I'll bet." 
 
 It was the first meal that he had ever brought me 
 and somehow this simple act of service touched me 
 more than any great deed could have done. How 
 much these foolish little things mean to us ! 
 
 It was too early for any evidence of the normal 
 activity of human life in the great block of apartments; 
 even the street was quiet. And in the unusual peace 
 Eddie and I found our way back into the old happy 
 intimacy. 
 
 As the sun gradually rose in the sky, I thought of 
 the view from the hill-top and of that last look of 
 Sunnydale in the dawn. And again it seemed pro- 
 phetic of the day which was coming. But for a mo- 
 ment I had to turn back to the dark valley which was 
 behind, for a little while I had to remember all the 
 bitter thoughts, the reckless moods, the unhappiness, 
 the longing for Meadowmere which was behind every- 
 thing; even of that final thing which shamed me. 
 After I had finished, Eddie was silent for a moment, 
 then he asked in a whisper, 
 
 " Do you mean that you were going away with 
 him?" 
 
 " Oh no, no, never, never," I answered vehemently. 
 " I was never so bad as that. I did not really like him, 
 but his admiration flattered me. And you had said, 
 ' let yourself go,' and that stung my pride, spurred me 
 on to prove I could win such admiration. I felt I could
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 not stand the monotony of things as they were, it hurt 
 me that you neglected me for business, it seemed all 
 you cared about." 
 
 " You know that's not true," he broke in. 
 
 " You did not do anything to prove it false," I 
 answered quietly. " I know that Haselton never 
 thought of anything serious, he would never have done 
 anything to injure his social prestige. I suppose it 
 just amused him. After all, from his point of view, 
 there was nothing in it; he's charming to all women, 
 and having found one who was greedy for admiration, 
 he gave it to her. It was only my recklessness which 
 made his charm dangerous, only the fact that the 
 game was new to me." 
 
 Bitterly ashamed I admitted to myself that even his 
 advice to leave my husband had no connection with his 
 own intentions, that it had only been the result of the 
 man's natural instinct to take the centre of the stage 
 where a woman was concerned. 
 
 I saw Eddie's hands clench, then in a quiet voice he 
 asked, " Do you still want to go back to England ? Do 
 you still want to leave me? " 
 
 As he thus put into words the half-formed intention 
 which had hovered in my mind, it sounded amaz- 
 ing, preposterous I could scarcely believe that 
 such a thought had ever entered, and with this 
 incredulity came realisation of how much I had hurt 
 him. 
 
 I wanted to stretch out my arms, passionately to 
 deny any such intention, but with growing under- 
 [262]
 
 Sunrise 
 
 standing I knew that the thing had to be argued out 
 calmly, without appeal to the emotions. 
 
 " No," I answered decidedly, " I don't want to go 
 back unless you are with me. I shall be saner now, 
 because I shall have something to think about, some- 
 thing to look forward to, and something to do. Eddie, 
 that's the curse of half the women in our group, not 
 only have they nothing to do, but they have no serious 
 obligations or anxieties to fill their minds; their lives 
 are made so easy for them that they've nothing to do 
 but spend money on amusement and on the purchase 
 of clothes, nothing to do but wear them and wait for 
 the admiration they look forward to in the effort to 
 avoid monotony. Their lives are so empty that they 
 are swayed by any chance wind. It will be different 
 for me in future. I'll have something to think about. 
 Oh, Eddie, I've been a little pig. Because I couldn't 
 have the work I wanted to do, I've stubbornly refused 
 to do anything, but now I'm going to work for our 
 men with all my heart. There's another thing, I want 
 to look after my own apartment." 
 
 " Do you mean get rid of Mary? " 
 
 " Yes ; it's ridiculous to have two able-bodied women 
 for looking after six tiny rooms and two people. Why, 
 I don't do a single thing in the way of housekeeping 
 except telephone a few orders. I'm going to ask your 
 mother to teach me how to keep house properly and 
 how to cook, so that my end of affairs may be run as 
 efficiently as yours that is, if she will forgive me," I 
 added to myself, so low that he did not hear it. 
 
 [263]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 He looked perplexed. " But I don't like the idea. 
 You always had servants at home, it looks as though 
 I couldn't give you what you've been used to, as 
 
 " Oh, my dear, what does it matter how our lives 
 look, it's what they are that matters. And it was dif- 
 ferent at Meadowmere. That great house took much 
 labour and clever organisation to keep it running prop- 
 erly. Mother looked after accounts just as well as you 
 could have done; I believe she knew every detail of the 
 management of the estate. Besides that, she had many 
 outside interests. It would have been foolish for her 
 to do the actual labour when she could do other and 
 more difficult things so well. But I haven't those out- 
 side interests and I'm not the kind of woman to find 
 them. I'm not a good organiser, or an intellectual, 
 I'm a very average woman, lacking in self-confidence, 
 but I know lean find congenial work and a new in- 
 terest in my home, perhaps learn to run it very wisely. 
 You said it was right to do the things we can do best 
 oh, Eddie, you'll agree, won't you? " 
 
 "Of course, if you really want it, but let's see what 
 Mother says before we make rash plunges. She has a 
 wise old head, you know." 
 
 " All right," I answered contentedly, and then with 
 hesitation, fearing to disturb our amity, " There's one 
 other thing. Will you go and see Mr. Haselton off, 
 just the same. I don't want him to think he counts 
 at all." 
 
 Eddie's face hardened but he nodded in assent. 
 
 [264]
 
 Sunrise , 
 
 As peace thus came to us, we fell into silence, and 
 Eddie, supported by the head of the bed, made a rest 
 for my tired body, and I leaned back against him, com- 
 pletely happy with a passionate tenderness of love. 
 And my thoughts strayed into the future which might 
 hold a little child, so that the desire for Meadowmere 
 grew fainter, as a beautiful dream which might yet 
 come true. 
 
 Life around us began to stir; footsteps sounded and 
 holding me more tightly, Eddie whispered, " I can't 
 tell you how glad I am that those hateful weeks are 
 over ! " Then he stood up, stretching his arms high 
 above his head. 
 
 " Gee, I don't feel as fresh as a daisy," he said 
 whimsically, " but a tub will put me right. I'll have to 
 be ' marching on ' now, old lady." 
 
 " Couldn't you rest to-day ? " 
 
 " I'll just have to report and see to a few things," he 
 answered persuasively, " but I'll be back early. You'll 
 be good and stay in bed." 
 
 " Yes, I'm going to ask your mother to come and 
 see me." 
 
 " Fine ! " And soon after I heard him whistling in 
 his bath. 
 
 I was conscious of just a tiny flatness. The won- 
 derful moment of reconciliation was over, the ordinary 
 existence of life, so dull by contrast, was beginning 
 again. 
 
 I did not realise that after all emotion there is a 
 period of flatness; in the renewal of the old love I 
 
 [265]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 thought that every problem was solved. I forgot that 
 when one is on the hill-top watching the rising of the 
 sun, with its promise of hope, full of the emotion given 
 by its beauty, one is apt to overlook the rest of the 
 day; the glaring noon when the sun is overhead, burn- 
 ing the tired traveller who has descended to the valley 
 and is toiling there throughout the long hours, seeing 
 nothing of the heights, feeling none of the exhilaration 
 which comes from the distant view just toiling on, 
 with the promise very far away. 
 
 And so in these moments of exultation in the early 
 day when it seemed as though only the two of us were 
 alive, I forgot that life would not be greatly changed 
 in its little day-by-day episodes. I forgot that there 
 would still be the petty trials, the little irritations, the 
 monotony of daily duties, still meals to be ordered, 
 rooms to be cleaned, bursts of temper and ugly words 
 to be repressed. If one could only live in those mo- 
 ments of fine impulse and keen emotion when the heart 
 is big and generous, when nothing petty or small 
 touches it, when sacrifice seems the only thing worth 
 living for when one could give away life itself in the 
 full assurance that such a gift would be worth the 
 loss! If only one did not have to descend to the 
 valleys ! 
 
 [266]
 
 Chapter Two 
 
 WHEN Mrs. Boynton came in response to my 
 telephone call and found me in bed, she made 
 an anxious inquiry. 
 
 " There's nothing the matter," I said reassuringly, 
 " It's just that I had a bad faint last night and the 
 doctor says I have been doing too much, so I'm being 
 lazy to-day." 
 
 " So I didn't need to get het up after all, did I ? 
 Did Ed get home?" 
 
 " Yes, about two, so he's very tired, and has prom- 
 ised to come home early." 
 
 She was looking at me keenly. Her face broke into 
 smiles, " Well, isn't it too bad you won't be able to see 
 Mr. Haselton off, he'll surely miss you." 
 
 " I don't think so," I answered quietly, looking 
 straight into her kind eyes. " His brother has been 
 killed; he's broken up about it, so am I. He was 
 I was engaged to him once, he was a splendid man." 
 
 Suddenly her arms were round me and I could feel 
 the warmth of her comfortable body. " You poor little 
 thing. Now just sit up a moment while I fix your 
 bed, it's all in a muss." 
 
 I watched her capable efforts and as I sank back 
 again in fresh comfort, I said humbly, 
 
 [267]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 " I'm sorry I was rude to you last night." 
 
 " Oh well, Margaret, let's forget about last night. 
 We were all fussed up about a mountain which wasn't 
 there. We're just going on right ahead. Did you 
 want me for anything special ? " 
 
 " Yes." I told her of my plans. " Will you teach 
 me to cook and keep house properly and economically ? 
 I'm going to get rid of a maid." 
 
 Her eyes began to sparkle. " I'll sure teach you 
 anything I know. To cook! Say, Margaret, you and 
 me'll have the best time in our lives. I'd have done the 
 same at home long ago if it hadn't been for Maisie. 
 She's got some nonsensical idea that it's more' stylish 
 not to touch your food before it goes into your mouth ! 
 But I was brought up to be well acquainted with it 
 long before it reaches that desirable exit from this 
 funny old world. I'll enjoy helping- you ever so much 
 and Eddie will begin to realise that he didn't know 
 what food was. How soon can you get rid of Mary? " 
 
 I began to laugh at her youthful eagerness, " Any 
 time by paying her wages, but I have to rest for a 
 few days." 
 
 " Then we'll begin a week from to-day and revolu- 
 tionise the junior Boynton household." 
 
 When Eddie came home, early as he had promised, 
 I wondered why his face was so grave. "I've just 
 seen Haselton off. I'm sorry for him, he looked ten 
 years older. It would seem that his brother meant 
 more to him than any of us dreamed. And now he's 
 the heir of the Haselton estate. But he says he won't 
 [268]
 
 Sunrise 
 
 live there, he hates the country and couldn't bear the 
 constant reminder of Sir Mark. Funny that he should 
 feel it so deeply, he didn't seem like a man who 
 would." 
 
 I could not speak. I could think of nothing but the 
 tragedy of Sir Mark's death, of the Hall empty 
 through long years, of Sunnydale without the wise 
 helping hand of its beloved friend. And though per- 
 haps far in the future there would be another Hasel- 
 ton reigning there, he would be the son of Robert, 
 almost an interloper. Old remorse stirred again, bring- 
 ing a guilty sense of responsibility, for if I had kept 
 my word, it might have been that Sir Mark would 
 have left behind him a son to carry on the traditions 
 of his own honourable life. 
 
 In spite of the unity and hope of that early morning 
 reconciliation, there were still hours when the old rest- 
 lessness and longing for another scene stirred me, mo- 
 ments when Eddie's absorption in business irritated me 
 as much as ever, but because my mind had now some- 
 thing else to concentrate upon, such feelings did not 
 stay; they did not eat into my heart until my whole 
 point of view was embittered. And above all I realised 
 that to be happy and contented was now a duty, so 
 that I strove with all my might against discontent, 
 against sudden overwhelming longings for the place I 
 loved. 
 
 And on the Monday Mrs. Boynton and I began our 
 respective roles of teacher and pupil. Our tiny kitchen 
 
 [269]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 resounded with many a laugh and chuckle ; she was like 
 a child with a new toy stove and I could not help 
 marvelling at the way in which her heart had kept so 
 young. 
 
 A few days later Eddie came home with a very 
 pleasant look in his grey eyes. " Would you like to 
 live in the country? " 
 
 " Would I like to live in in " 
 
 " Well, at least it's something like country. The 
 doctor says that you ought to live somewhere where 
 there's more air, and where you can sit out of doors 
 when the weather's warm, and I've been looking at 
 Sylverdale. It's only about twenty miles out of New 
 York and there's a nice little house which " 
 
 " A house ! " I shouted, " Eddie, you mean we could 
 live in a real house ? " 
 
 " Yes," he said smiling, " and there's a little garden 
 as you call it." 
 
 " A house and a garden ! " I could hardly speak. 
 ..." But will you be content to live out of New 
 York ? " I knew it would be a sacrifice. 
 
 "Yes, I want you to be happy and healthy. And 
 some day maybe I'll buy it, when I catch up a bit." 
 
 " Then we have been spending too much " 
 
 He looked confused. " Well, we do seem to have 
 been running through the dollars and I can't ask Dad 
 for more help just now." 
 
 I was ashamed by the thought that my extravagance 
 had been partly carried by Eddie's father. " Eddie, I 
 don't really care for clothes and continual amusement," 
 [270]
 
 Sunrise 
 
 I said solemnly, " and I'm learning to be an economical 
 housekeeper. We'll pull up, but oh, don't let's miss 
 the house." 
 
 There was some of the old boyishness in his laugh 
 " You would like to move there, then? " 
 
 "Like!" It was all I could say, but there must 
 have been something in my voice to bring him to my 
 side and with his arms around me, he said softly, 
 
 " Poor kiddie, you have been miserable in an apart- 
 ment!" 
 
 " I shan't be any more, I shall just live for the time 
 when we can move. Promise me one thing, that you 
 won't let any one but you and me touch our new house. 
 I want to do everything, hang every picture, put in 
 every hook. Just let the men dump the furniture and 
 that's all." 
 
 " Why, I was going to ask Mother to fix it for you, 
 I thought it would save you trouble." 
 
 I clutched his hand in fear that my dream might 
 vanish again. "No, no! That's just what I don't 
 want. Oh, don't let any one touch it! If you knew 
 how I wanted to make a home myself ! " 
 
 " Well, I'm darned ! " said he, " a woman is beyond 
 me!" 
 
 It was a bright frosty day towards the end of Febru- 
 ary when we moved to our new house, and the short 
 afternoon was already darkening as we got into a taxi 
 at the station of Sylverdale. Although I was tired, 
 inward excitement kept a series of eager exclamations 
 bubbling from my lips " What heaps of trees and 
 
 [271]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 how lovely they'll be in the spring, won't they? And 
 isn't the church dear, and all the pretty houses. 
 We're going down the avenue, we're stopping Eddie, 
 we're here." 
 
 "We're here!" said he. 
 
 As he helped me out of the taxi, the house was 
 faintly visible a gable, a porch, surrounding trees. 
 There was a feeling of freshness and peace no sounds 
 but those which Mother Nature always whispers. 
 
 When I got up next morning and looked around my 
 little domain my heart opened in a song of delight. 
 The lower part of the house was of a dazzling white 
 stucco, the upper, dark brown shingles. It had a 
 sunny youthful air, it reminded me of a doll's house 
 with which I had played as a child. Contrasted with 
 Meadovvmere it was like the pert playfulness of a 
 terrier puppy to the staid wisdom of an old Newfound- 
 land, but I loved it from that first moment, and as I 
 went from room to room, planning and dreaming, I 
 saw before me a " home." 
 
 Eddie had followed out my request; nothing had 
 been done, the furniture was piled up neatly in a 
 corner. It was all waiting for the love and thought 
 with which I was going to arrange it. 
 
 As I prepared our picnic breakfast I hummed a 
 tune and when I set it on the table I said gaily, " It's 
 right on time, sir! In spite of drawbacks you've half 
 an hour before train time." 
 
 He looked up at me grinning. " I'm not going to 
 catch any train." 
 
 [272]
 
 Sunrise 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " Have you any objection to my taking a day off. 
 I know you'll go and work like a little slave if I'm not 
 here to prevent it." 
 
 I jumped up and made a dive round the table. " Oh, 
 Eddie, a holiday what a grand time we'll have." And 
 he was still grinning even though my impulsive caress 
 had ruffled his hair. 
 
 How I chattered that evening over dinner as I made 
 further eager suggestions. Did he like the piano here 
 or there ? Wouldn't warm brown shades look lovely 
 against the pale tan walls ? Or would a soft blue look 
 better? We were still discussing the merits of brown 
 or blue when he had to hurry away to catch his train 
 next morning. But I did not feel lonely. What fun 
 it was to go out on to the porch and wave good-bye, 
 getting a breath of the keen cold air, and then turn 
 back with a satisfied sigh because there was such lots 
 to do. 
 
 It was the end house in a short avenue, and thus on 
 the right there was nothing between it and a thick belt 
 of trees. Beyond, through their bare branches, I could 
 get a glimpse of open country, rising gradually into 
 a high ridge. Another hill-top what was on the 
 other side? 
 
 In the next few days I was intensely happy, glory- 
 ing in Eddie's kind smile as he praised the results of 
 my work. " Bully little place, isn't it? You're mak- 
 ing it look fine ! " 
 
 I didn't want any companion during the day. I 
 
 [273]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 was never lonely in my new home, there was so much 
 to do. Home ! What happiness in the word and when 
 at the week end I helped Eddie to hang the pictures, 
 the spirit of the holiday at Sunnydale came back to 
 us, with the deeper emotion of marriage added to it. 
 
 For several weeks I had no other interest but the 
 house. I only went out to buy food and then hurried 
 back to do some more planning. When it was all 
 finished, even to the black cat which Eddie had bought 
 for me, and which would scarcely stir from the bright 
 wood fire a real fire! I heaved a sigh of content- 
 ment. We had a home. There had always been too 
 much furniture for the apartment and now that it 
 was spread out, it looked better. The place had a 
 simple cheerful look; bright chintzes, rugs on the pol- 
 ished floors, gleaming white woodwork, a feeling of 
 space, and glimpses of the country from the living- 
 room windows. 
 
 When Mrs. Boynton came out to see it, her eyes 
 gleamed with appreciation. " Funny, isn't it, how 
 folks'll go on living in an apartment with the pleasure 
 of an occasional view of a white-washed wall, and 
 never know what a home looks like! I wonder if 
 there's another little show like this around here, Mar- 
 garet, because I wouldn't be surprised if Popper and 
 I didn't find our way to it. Of course Maisie wouldn't 
 have heard of it, but now she's not concerned, and with 
 you and Ed here well ! Maybe I wouldn't be happy 
 in a place like this ! Gee, you watch me ! " 
 
 " We'll go househunting for you." 
 
 [274]
 
 Sunrise 
 
 She looked around her with a pleased smile. 
 " You've fixed it fine, Margaret, and you look better 
 already." 
 
 I laughed. " I'm quite happy now I have a house 
 and I'm looking forward to doing the garden next. 
 I've even something to ' mother,' " I said, cuddling 
 the black kitten in my arms, and at her beaming smile, 
 I expanded further. " You've no idea how I've missed 
 something which wanted petting and protecting. At 
 home I was always used to heaps of animals and all 
 the babies in the village were my children, and here 
 there was nothing helpless which needed ' mother- 
 ing.' " 
 
 " Why, you've been looking too far away from 
 home." 
 
 " What do you mean? " I asked, startled by the sud- 
 den thought that Eddie had told her the news in spite 
 of our agreement to keep it secret for a little while. 
 
 " Why, what's the matter with your husband? " 
 
 I burst out laughing " Eddie ! I can't imagine 
 such a thing." 
 
 She leaned forward, patting my knee with her hand 
 as she said seriously. 
 
 " Don't make any mistake. Ed, for all his confi- 
 dence, wants * mothering ' just as bad as any man. 
 They're none of them too grand or too clever to be 
 the worse off for a little petting. But it's an art, it's 
 got to be learned like anything else. You mustn't put 
 it on too thick, I can tell you." 
 
 "What can I do?" 
 
 [275]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 " Do ! Why, it's hard to put it into words, but 
 
 there's a mighty lot of little things " Her eyes 
 
 twinkled as she went on " If he's in when you're 
 baking, take him a piece of pie; if he's been gardening 
 on a hot Saturday afternoon, take him a cold drink 
 he's likely been thirsty for an hour or more, but thinks 
 he's just got to finish weeding that darned walk before 
 it gets dark. And just where he's getting to feel a 
 martyr to work, the sound of ice clinking on the glass 
 and the bit of attention changes the outlook and he'll 
 end up with a jolly expanding feeling that it's bully 
 having a house and a garden and a wife." 
 
 "You're not speaking literally?" I asked, puzzled 
 by her quizzical look. 
 
 " Perhaps! " she answered, shaking with her merry 
 chuckle, " Perhaps not, you'll learn some day but, 
 anyhow, give him a bit of praise when he's done some- 
 thing he ought to, but don't want to. If he's got a 
 grouch, be sympathetic, but keep well in the back- 
 ground, and if he's tired and irritable, for the lord's 
 sake, don't choose just that minute to sit down and say, 
 ' Now let's argue it out like two sensible grown-up 
 people,' because at such times he's as far from being 
 sensible and grown-up as a caterpillar is from being a 
 butterfly." 
 
 I thought of that queer tugging tenderness which 
 had come over me at the sight of Eddie bringing my 
 breakfast; I remembered my impulse to stroke his head 
 when he looked tired and weary and how resentment 
 had stayed my hand. Had I been wasting this ma- 
 [27,6]
 
 Sunrise 
 
 ternal love, bottling it up in my heart because I thought 
 no one wanted its tender protectiveness ? The feeling 
 I had for my husband was a passionate love, jealous, 
 exacting, making few allowances, demanding much 
 but the mother-love was big enough to overlook, to 
 sacrifice rather than demand, to give rather than take ; 
 it was tender rather than fierce and jealous. Had I 
 been missing that from my love for my husband ? 
 
 I looked straight into the eyes of the large con- 
 tented woman in front of me and saw with a broader 
 vision beyond the veil of outward manners, beyond the 
 gilt of social usage; her face shone with good-nature, 
 her heart overflowed with this large generous mother- 
 love. She had not turned disdainfully from the in- 
 competence of her son's wife, but had given willingly 
 of her experience; she had not interfered, yet had tried 
 to help me. Quick as a flash, the thought came " Let 
 her share in your happiness now, at once; you know 
 how she will rejoice!" But I answered it instantly 
 with a " No," I was too shy to tell her, besides I 
 wanted to keep the joy of the knowledge to ourselves 
 for a little time. 
 
 And then I had a curious sensation just as if I had 
 shouted the words aloud, and they had struck an 
 echo, the air seemed to be full of " I want I want 
 always I want! " I shrank away from this illumina- 
 tion, but it searched me out and I saw myself as a 
 judge might have seen me. In self -denunciation I 
 muttered, " It's true, I have been thinking only of 
 myself. I thought I was making a sacrifice in giving
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 up my home for Eddie, but it wasn't for him, it was 
 because I wanted him more than anything else. All 
 the time that's all I have thought of, what I wanted." 
 
 "Why, Margaret, what's the matter? What are 
 you muttering? " 
 
 I came back with a quick breath, then with sudden 
 resolve, " I hope I shall have something else to 
 ' mother ' before next winter." 
 
 Slowly, as she grasped the meaning of my words, 
 Eddie's mother seemed to expand with a glowing 
 happiness. Through unshed tears her eyes sparkled 
 while her lips trembled a little before parting with the 
 low words " Oh, Margaret, don't that make me 
 happy! You can't guess how I've wanted a grand- 
 child. The thought of it is like beginning life all 
 over again." 
 
 " I'm glad you're happy," I whispered, and I was 
 still further glad when I told Eddie and saw the satis- 
 fied look on his face. " I wanted her to know," he 
 said. 
 
 As I was undressing that night, I looked into my 
 mirror with serious eyes. " Do you know I think 
 there's some hope for Margaret Miller, I think she's 
 beginning to get just a glimpse of what life means, 
 don't you, Mrs. Boynton?" And I nodded at the 
 reflection, breaking into a happy laugh, and soon after 
 fell asleep with a feeling of deep content. 
 
 As soon as the house was finished I was all on fire 
 to begin the garden, but it was some little time before 
 I could get to work for next morning I collapsed again 
 [278]
 
 Sunrise 
 
 " Overstrain," said the doctor, " entire rest for a 
 few days ! " 
 
 But I did not mind his verdict. I felt delightfully 
 lazy, quite content to lie and watch Mrs. Boynton, who 
 had good-naturedly said she would stay till I was well. 
 
 That evening Eddie came home with the news that 
 he had gone up to town with our next-door neighbour 
 " Seems a nice kind of chap, name is Eaves, plays 
 golf, so does his wife. He said she was coming to 
 call on you, but I told him to leave it till next week 
 as you were sick." 
 
 Next afternoon as I was dozing it seemed as though 
 I saw the door open and a little child stand there with 
 the light on its fair hair and in its hand a bunch of 
 flowers. 
 
 " Mother sent you these she grew them all her- 
 self and I'm not to stay." 
 
 I closed my eyes and opened them. The room was 
 empty again and with a catch in my throat I thought 
 I had been dreaming. I began to turn my head, sigh- 
 ing after the beauty of the vision, when I saw on the 
 white cover, their mauve and yellow in delicate relief, 
 a bunch of early spring flowers. Half fearfully I put 
 out my hand were they real? It closed on a soft 
 damp violet, and I caught them up and buried my face 
 in their fragrance. 
 
 From Mother's garden ! Not grown in a hot house, 
 raised by paid labour, tied with pink ribbons, labelled 
 in a Fifth Avenue store, and costing so many dollars, 
 just another emblem of what money could buy but 
 
 [279]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 grown by a woman, watched over by her, loved by her, 
 and gathered especially for a sick neighbour to show 
 kindly sympathy! How personal, how lovable, how 
 different they seemed from the huge bouquets which 
 had been bought for me. . . . " A posy for Miss 
 Margaret!" a fat grubby childish hand, stalks that 
 were always too short, crushed petals, but love behind 
 the gift. . . . Oh, Sunnydale, is this not a sign that 
 I shall be able to make a real home out here ! 
 
 [280]
 
 Chapter Three 
 
 SEVERAL days went by before I was up again and 
 able to thank Mrs. Eaves for her flowers. I found 
 that she too was an ardent gardener and soon our 
 heads were nodding over our bits of yards. It was 
 such a delight to get away from Maisie's perpetual 
 conversation about clothes not that, being women, 
 they were never a subject we discussed, but they were 
 not the main thought in life! And in working near 
 to Mother Earth and in the cultivation of the things 
 which grow out of her peaceful bosom, I began to for- 
 get that I had ever known the curse of nerves. Mar- 
 jorie, Mrs. Eaves' little girl, helped me; she was five 
 years old and judging from her quaintly given opinions 
 about the art of growing flowers, she was quite as much 
 an expert as her mother. How I laughed to hear the 
 baby laying down the law to me! Not for many 
 months had my laugh rung out so true and clear; 
 inner contentment and happiness spread outwardly 
 into pink cheeks and glowing eyes. 
 
 " Something seems to suit you ! " said Eddie jok- 
 ingly one day. If only I could get him to relax a little, 
 if only I could get even a little bit of that dream of 
 success out of his head, what a peaceful life we might 
 lead, with enough to live on for our simple tastes, and 
 
 [281]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 enough to educate the child thoroughly and compe- 
 tently, so that when the time came it might be able to 
 earn a living. Then perhaps Meadovvmere ! Would 
 that ever come? 
 
 I knew that opposition was fatal, persuasion had 
 failed, what else could I do to help Eddie to relax? 
 
 Eaves was a jolly fat man, with a healthy face, who 
 turned out for golf every week end, and sometimes, I 
 believed, on an afternoon in the week, too. I asked 
 him where he played. " At the Country Club," he 
 answered. " You and your husband ought to join. 
 We get fine golf, then there's tennis and the women 
 seem to enjoy it socially." 
 
 " My husband says he is too busy." 
 
 His eyes twinkled. " That's what I used to say. 
 But once get him started with golf then! " His ex- 
 pressive face said volumes. 
 
 " I wish I could ; he needs exercise and outdoor life 
 badly." 
 
 " You leave it to me," he said, the humorous lips 
 closing into a strong smile. 
 
 Next day Eddie came home with a " Met Eaves on 
 the train and he asked me to go in for a game of 
 cards to-night. Do you mind?" 
 
 " I'd like you to go, and I'll ask his wife to come 
 and chat with me." 
 
 Eddie had not come in when I went to bed, but at 
 
 breakfast he looked up from the financial news; 
 
 " Those darned chaps talked nothing else but golf. 
 
 You'd think they hadn't another interest in life. 
 
 [282]
 
 Sunrise 
 
 People who only have one subject of conversation make 
 me tired! " 
 
 I hid a smile ; there were people who could only talk 
 about business, but I was learning that there were 
 many thoughts that were better left unspoken and 
 something had been achieved, even if it were only the 
 unusual divorce of his thoughts from the financial 
 news for a few moments ! 
 
 " Didn't you enjoy the evening then? " 
 
 " Oh yes, they were mighty nice chaps, but I felt 
 rather out of it, all the fellers talking about handicaps 
 and wonderful shots. I tried to get them going on the 
 market when they happened to get short of breath, 
 but it was no go, back they'd come to golf. And yet 
 one of them was Johns, the big stockbroker you'd 
 suppose he'd be interested in one or two remarks I 
 made!" 
 
 So Mr. Eaves had kept his word ! 
 
 A week later on Saturday afternoon Eddie came 
 home, much to my surprise as he seldom took the half 
 holiday, and with a casual air he asked, " Doing any- 
 thing this afternoon? " 
 
 "No, why?" 
 
 " Eaves suggests driving us out to the Country 
 Club." 
 
 " Oh, Eddie, that would be glorious, let's go." 
 
 It was a beautiful afternoon in early May. As 
 Mrs. Eaves had told me that women were not wel- 
 comed on the golf course on a holiday I felt quite 
 comfortable in knowing that she was not making any 
 
 [283]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 sacrifice by staying on the porch with me. I liked her 
 very much; she was so sensible, so jolly and sociable, 
 she seemed to enjoy life so thoroughly. And the 
 women to whom she introduced me all had this same 
 air of happiness, of entering completely into the pleas- 
 ure of the moment, of welcoming me so affably into 
 their midst. 
 
 Away from the shade of the wide porch the bril- 
 liant searching sunshine lit up the countryside. In the 
 distance a faint purple outline showed the protecting 
 presence of the ridge of hills, and as I watched the 
 vigorous tennis players, the keen-eyed golfers, I knew 
 a deep sense of contentment in the peaceful homeli- 
 ness of the scene. 
 
 It might have been a picture of many a countryside 
 in England ; about the people who surrounded me was 
 nothing which typified any essential contrast between 
 us. As I listened to the scraps of conversation around 
 us, I understood a little of the lives of the speakers, of 
 their business, families, homes, amusements. I heard 
 of willing service for the welfare of the community, 
 of common interests. It was impossible to believe that 
 New York was only twenty miles away; as I enjoyed 
 the peaceful happiness of the scene before me it seemed 
 that we must be in another country which had escaped 
 the shadow of the art of making money. 
 
 Realisation slowly began to pierce the subconscious- 
 ness which had persisted in seeing only the follies of 
 Maisie and her crowd. My attitude had been all 
 wrong. Resentful, critical, I had set my eyes in a 
 [284]
 
 Sunrise 
 
 narrow path and refused to look beyond it. In spite 
 of the extremity of the contrast which Mary Harden 
 had offered to Maisie's type, it had not opened my 
 eyes to the possibility of other varying contrasts in 
 the great city, to the possibility that if I had sought 
 in the right spirit I might there have found others as 
 congenial as Mrs. Eaves had proved to be. 
 
 With the realisation came a groping understanding 
 that New York was but a tiny space in an enormous 
 country; that as Mary Harden differed from Maisie, 
 so even there were people to whom the electrically- 
 lighted, money-driven life of which I had been a part 
 seemed just as mad a phase as it did to me. And as 
 I absorbed the wholesomeness of the scene around me 
 I knew that Maisie was a hot-house growth, springing 
 from the plentiful opportunity, from the lavishness of 
 a new country; that even Mary Harden, brilliant 
 example of the intellectual life though she was, was 
 less important to the nation than a woman like Mrs. 
 Eaves, home-loving, public-spirited, energetic and in- 
 telligent, the mother of future generations. 
 
 There was much that I could learn from her; her 
 outlook was broader, less centred than mine, but I 
 was gradually appreciating the fact that our ideals 
 were the same ; that with a little kindly tact the super- 
 ficial points of difference between us could be smoothed 
 into a firm and charming friendship. 
 
 As the cold critical attitude fell away into a new 
 warmth which sought eagerly for this friendship, I 
 thought that New York ought to be a walled city, to 
 
 [285]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 which strangers were only entitled to enter after long 
 residence in other parts of the country. For because 
 it gathers unto itself all that is most extravagant, bi- 
 zarre, overdressed, overwealthy, the eyes of the mis- 
 understanding and dazzled foreigner can see nothing 
 of the human life underneath these abnormalities. . . . 
 
 " It's beautiful here, isn't it, Eddie? " I asked softly. 
 
 " It certainly is. I've been watching that youngster. 
 He's some tennis player. I haven't had a game since I 
 was at college." 
 
 " Why don't you join the club and play again, or 
 take up golf? " asked Mrs. Eaves. 
 
 " I haven't time," my husband answered firmly. 
 
 But the subtle power of suggestion was working and 
 a few days later he came in with a rather irritable, 
 " Eaves is always getting after me to join the club ! 
 Johns is a member, of course, and he'd be a mighty 
 useful man to know." 
 
 So Mr. Eaves' persuasiveness was still at work ! As 
 Eddie thus opened the subject which was so much oc- 
 cupying my thoughts, it was on the tip of my tongue 
 to say, "Why don't you?" when I remembered Mrs. 
 Boynton's words of wisdom. Yes, it certainly would 
 be better to wait till after dinner, and with a non-com- 
 mittal, " Oh, is he ! " I let the matter drop. And it 
 was only when Eddie was lounging comfortably in his 
 chair, cigar lit, attitude typical of a contentment which 
 had been missing when he came in that I said, 
 
 " Why don't you join the club, it would do you heaps 
 of good, and I should enjoy it immensely." 
 [286]
 
 Sunrise 
 
 Back came the same old cry " I haven't time." 
 
 " You never will have time if you don't insist on 
 making the opportunity. Are you going to spend the 
 next twenty years of your life only in making money? 
 Then at fifty you will be an old man, without an 
 interest in living. If you would only drop the mad 
 excitement of gambling on the market, and just keep 
 to your legitimate consulting work, your mind would 
 be easier, and you'd have heaps of time. Boltons are 
 not slave drivers, I'm sure." 
 
 " No, they're dandy people. But it's such a help 
 to make that bit on the side. I can't drop it, especially 
 now why, there is all the more reason for me to work 
 harder than ever now. There's a further object in 
 getting on, which, after all, means making money." 
 
 " No ! " I said seriously, " I don't look at it like 
 that. Every parent ought to do all he can for his 
 child, but only without injuring himself, either intel- 
 lectually, morally or physically. What use is it to a 
 son if his father leaves him a million at his death, if 
 that son has never known a father if he has just 
 looked upon him as a money-making machine? 
 Wouldn't the boy have profited more if he had had 
 a real father, a companion, a guide, a help, an elder 
 man with a young heart, knowing life and helping his 
 boy to know it in the right way? Oh, Eddie, it is 
 wrong to think only of the children, we have a duty to 
 ourselves and if we fail in that it will reflect on them." 
 
 " What is our duty to ourselves ? " 
 
 ' To enjoy life I don't mean just enjoy pleasure, 
 
 [287]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 that's different. But to learn to enjoy life, to get the 
 fullest happiness out of it, to work honestly, to play 
 joyfully, to see beauty in the wonderful earth around 
 us. You can't do that if your vision is limited to mak- 
 ing money or winning fame just for the sake of money 
 or fame." 
 
 " What do you want me to do? " 
 
 " I want you to live proportionately. I don't want 
 to see you work so hard that you are too tired to play 
 that's wrong. You will make enough to educate our 
 child well and sufficiently, I am not a bit afraid, then 
 let it stand on its own feet, having all those years of 
 a beautiful childhood, with parents who are young 
 enough in heart to be friends, companions, playmates, 
 to keep it standing." 
 
 "That's all right in theory," he said, a little 
 grumpily. But I noticed that he was often thought- 
 ful in the next few weeks, and I do not think his 
 thoughts were always on the market. The game of 
 cards with Eaves and his friends became a weekly 
 habit. And at the end of June he joined the club ! 
 
 I was content. My little world began to get nar- 
 rower as I spent a good deal of my time sitting on the 
 porch, while into the sunny atmosphere of my home a 
 fair-haired Swedish girl was introduced so that I 
 might not be alone. As the horizon closed my thoughts 
 roamed far afield away to my old home and to my 
 father and Tom. 
 
 He had joined the Australian contingent as a pri- 
 vate, had worked his way to a commission and had 
 [288]
 
 Sunrise 
 
 been wounded in a gallant action. It had brought 
 about one happy result his reconciliation with Father. 
 I could read a queer reserved pride in the stilted lines 
 of Father's letter as he told me that Tom was coming 
 home to Meadowmere to convalesce and that he was 
 glad he bore the Miller name. I wished that I had 
 written home more often, but my pride had made me 
 afraid that they might read between the lines that I 
 was not happy and that Mother would then feel that 
 she had been right after all, so letters had gradually 
 become less and less frequent. But after I would 
 write often. I would show Father how much I loved 
 him. 
 
 As the hot weather came I had moments of keen 
 longing for the coolness of the Mere, but then I would 
 look up from the little garments I was sewing as I sat 
 in the shady porch, past the garden with its bright 
 flowers, into the thick trees on the right, and in the 
 shade of their greenness I would find peace and some- 
 how the air would seem less hot and the longing would 
 pass into thoughts of the new happiness which was 
 coming. Then my hands would lie idle and I would 
 dream of a wonderful future for our child and a feel- 
 ing of awe would come to me that I would have so 
 much power in the shaping of a life. And as my eyes 
 rested on the trees I thought of the distant ridge 
 
 " Is there a lovely view from it ? " I had asked Eddie 
 one day, and he had answered, 
 
 " I don't know, but if you like we'll hire a machine 
 and go and look." 
 
 [289]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 " No, I'd like to wait until afterwards and tramp 
 up there some morning, perhaps early enough to see 
 the sunrise." 
 
 And he had bent and kissed me with that softening 
 of his face which the thought of our child always 
 brought. But I had not told him the chief reason for 
 wanting to wait. When I had watched the sun rise 
 from the hill at Sunnydale on that morning of my 
 departure, I had been so sure of the future, I had never 
 had a doubt. Now I was learning that happiness has 
 to be won, that it does not just fall at one's feet and 
 I wanted to see if I had earned the right to a beautiful 
 day. I wanted to serve my probation and then if I 
 felt that Life was set towards the right goal, I could 
 watch the sun rising over the hill-top, glorying in the 
 promise of another day. 
 
 As I was sitting on the porch one Saturday after- 
 noon towards the end of August, waiting for Eddie 
 to come home from golf, I heard the postman's 
 whistle at the end of the avenue, and as soon as he 
 came into sight I called out gaily, " Anything for 
 me?" 
 
 " Yes, ma'am," said he, handing me a letter. 
 
 It was in Tom's writing, posted from Sunnydale. 
 So he was home! How gloriously happy Mother 
 would be. But why was it addressed to Eddie ? Any- 
 way, I couldn't wait till he came home for the news 
 " I'm going to open it," I said, smiling as I thought 
 that I was meddling with my husband's correspond- 
 ence. 
 
 [290]
 
 Sunrise 
 
 Part of a sentence leapt out at me . . . " Father 
 died with tragic suddenness ..." 
 
 " My father is dead ! " I heard some one say it out 
 loud, distinctly, then stupidly again and again, " He 
 can't be, I was going to show him how much I loved 
 him he can't be " then a laugh, low at first, but 
 rising gradually into a shrill torrent of sound. I 
 listened breathlessly it stopped I sighed with relief, 
 it started again. "Am I making that noise?" I 
 thought in terror. 
 
 Suddenly something seized me a great remorse- 
 less something seized my body and began tearing it, 
 with increasing strength. Pain wiped every thought 
 out of my mind. It seemed to hold me in its grip for 
 hours. Then as it slackened its hold, I took a slow 
 breath, wondering if I were still alive. My mind 
 slowly groped to find out what had happened. 
 
 And in a flash the knowledge came this is the 
 beginning. . . . I am going down into the valley to 
 find a little child. 
 
 [291]
 
 Chapter Four 
 
 I DON'T think I shall ever again be doubtful of 
 my husband's love. His face had the strained 
 white look of a man who had been tortured, mentally 
 rather than physically. If I had suffered, he had suf- 
 fered with me, minute by minute, hour by hour. And 
 because his suffering was passive, that of waiting and 
 hoping, perhaps it had been even worse than mine. 
 
 He came over to the bed on tiptoe, his grey eyes big 
 and eager in a face so white that it looked thinner. 
 He seemed to be afraid of breathing for fear of dis- 
 turbing me. 
 
 " You are all right. Thank God ! " 
 
 And when he saw the child lying on my arm, over 
 his face there spread the smile which had hitherto only 
 been for me now it enveloped us both, wife and son, 
 in a soft tenderness which altered the hard lines till 
 his face glowed with a love which was almost spiritual. 
 
 For a few moments neither spoke words would 
 have disturbed the peace and happiness of the supreme 
 content which surrounded us. The only sound was 
 the soft breathing of the child and the ticking of a little 
 china clock, my last birthday present. And the spirit 
 of unity between us was even greater than it had been 
 [292]
 
 Sunrise 
 
 in the early days of marriage, for larger understand- 
 ing had come out of sorrow and struggle. 
 
 He touched the wrinkled pink hand of our little son 
 and he laughed, a queer sound deep in his throat. " It 
 was hell till I knew you were all right. I want you 
 to get well quickly, it's terribly lonesome without you 
 round." 
 
 I smiled softly. How foolish I had been to think 
 that it was only business that counted with him! 
 
 After he had left me, a sentence began to run 
 through my memory. I had heard some one say, " My 
 father is dead," but I could not give it any connection. 
 " Eddie," I said, when I saw him again, " something is 
 puzzling me, I can't remember " 
 
 " Do you mean the letter, I found it by your side." 
 
 " The letter? " and then my brain cleared. It was 
 my own father. Poor, poor father ! " Please give it 
 to me." 
 
 I could hardly believe that Tom had written it, the 
 tone was so different, and he had addressed it to Eddie 
 for fear the news might hurt me, so that it might be 
 withheld if necessary such thoughtfulness in the old 
 lordly Tom ! 
 
 " Father died with tragic suddenness," he wrote, 
 "of heart trouble we never knew about. I am glad to 
 think he forgave me, for though he never said much, 
 he seemed to have a queer kind of pride in me. 
 
 " And so, old girl, you are now the owner of 
 Meadowmere! It's strange, isn't it, how things have 
 turned out, for you were always so awfully keen about 
 
 [293]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 it. Do you remember how you nearly killed me when 
 I said I would let it to a farmer? But I think even 
 then my indifference was put on partly to tease you, 
 partly to hide the deep pride of inheritance which lay 
 somewhere in my queer young heart. Now you are 
 far away, and I am different I don't think any of us 
 who have been through the war can feel as young and 
 careless again. Now Meadowmere seems a very 
 haven of peace, the most desirable place in the 
 world. 
 
 " What are you going to do? Mother is well pro- 
 vided for, but she hasn't enough to rent Meadowmere 
 from you and the Governor left me with the proverbial 
 shilling. I think he would have altered things had he 
 lived, for as I say we made our peace. Any chance 
 of you both coming back to live here? I don't know 
 yet what I am going to do." 
 
 Why wasn't he going back to fight, I wondered, and 
 then as I turned the page I burst into tears. Casually, 
 with the pride that would not show the terrible hurt, 
 Tom wrote that he was out of active service, that his 
 wound had left him permanently lame. 
 
 My handsome brother, so confident, so lordly, so 
 ready to take a risk in any kind of sport injured, 
 lame ! And looking at my baby son I kissed him with 
 a passion of pity for all those other mothers who had 
 to suffer so. ... And he was lame! 
 
 Then through pity that other thought began to creep. 
 
 Meadowmere belonged to me! 
 
 What should I do with it? Immediately I was 
 
 [294]
 
 Sunrise 
 
 gripped by that old dream of seeing our son running 
 on its smooth green lawns, riding my old pony, too 
 stiff to be frisky, playing hide-and-seek through the 
 ancient rooms of the grey stone house a desperate 
 longing that it might come true, that once more 
 Meadowmere might be my home with all the extra 
 happiness of a husband and a son added to my love for 
 it, overbore all the new peace I had won, all the little 
 knowledge I thought I had gained, all the conquest of 
 self I thought I had attained. 
 
 " Eddie, Meadowmere is mine ! Think what a 
 gorgeous home it would be for the child." 
 
 " I know it, I've been thinking of that, but I haven't 
 decided yet what I can do." 
 
 " I want to go back ! " I said passionately, urgently. 
 There was no longer the petty desire to prove that 
 Eddie loved me, it was sheer longing for my old home 
 and its surroundings, for the fulfilment of that old 
 dream. 
 
 In the days which followed a shadow of the old 
 strain reappeared. My husband seemed a little harder, 
 and because my heart was set on the old longing, some 
 of the friction which had been absent for the last few 
 months came back again. 
 
 October came with its gorgeous flaming colouring. 
 Three years ago since Eddie and I had first parted 
 nearly two years since we had been married, then it 
 was two years, it was the anniversary of our wedding 
 day! 
 
 " Margaret," said he, as he smiled down at me 
 
 [295]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 while I was dressing our son, " I have a present for 
 you." 
 
 " How nice, what is it? " I asked eagerly. 
 
 " I will take you back to Meadowmere." 
 
 " You mean to live? " 
 
 " Yes, to live for always until we die." His 
 voice was very solemn. 
 
 " Oh, how glorious! " I cried joyfully, then stopped. 
 There was something in his face which was like that 
 of a man who has been fighting a hard fight and who 
 finds no peace in victory. Through my happiness a 
 stab of remorse found its way. 
 
 " It's for the child ! " I said, putting to sleep that 
 momentary accusation. 
 
 " Yes, but I am doing it more especially for you, 
 it's what you have always wanted." 
 
 How I had misjudged him. He would make this 
 great sacrifice for me. " Thank you, thank you ! " I 
 put my arms around his neck ; but in some way there 
 seemed to be a shadow between our lips. 
 
 " Oh, how happy I am ! " I breathed it into the fat 
 body of my son. "How happy I am!" I said it 
 often. And in the midst of saying it there came to me 
 a memory of the morning after my engagement to Sir 
 Mark, when my emphatic " of course, of course I am 
 happy " had been used to silence that inner warning 
 that all was not well. And following the memory 
 came my husband's word "What would be the use 
 of living in Sunnydale and feeling a life-long sense of 
 injury and resentment?" "You know, Margaret, 
 [296]
 
 Sunrise 
 
 you are marrying an American, we mustn't forget 
 that ! " . . .1 began to be a little afraid. 
 
 There was Tom, too. I had judged him wrongly, 
 always thinking that he did not care for Meadowmere, 
 never seeing underneath the bravado of indifference 
 with which, boylike, he had hidden the deep pride of 
 inheritance. So that when he was sent away perhaps 
 the thought that Meadowmere was his no longer, that 
 he was not even a Miller, was not the least of his 
 sufferings. And his shortcomings had not been alto- 
 gether his own fault he had suffered from the fric- 
 tion between my parents, from Mother's indulgence, 
 from Father's overharshness ; he was the enduring evi- 
 dence of a promise extracted under duress, of a time 
 when love was matched against scheming and the 
 bitterness of the memory had reflected upon him. 
 
 Now Meadowmere seemed to him a haven of peace 
 which was denied to him. And he was lame! What 
 was he going to do ? 
 
 All through the day these thoughts brought unrest 
 so that I no longer sang about the house. But I stifled 
 them what did anything matter in comparison with 
 the realisation of that dream. I was going home and 
 the lawns would echo with the sound of our baby's 
 voice. . . . 
 
 " We are going back to Meadowmere to live ! " I 
 said to Mrs. Boynton next day, as she was crooning 
 over the baby by the glowing fire. I said it joyfully, 
 gaily, a little defiantly, crushing down that sense of 
 fear.
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 The happiness died out of her face. "To live! 
 You mean you are going to take our Ed away? " 
 
 " Yes, at least I am not taking him away, he has 
 agreed to go there, for it will make such a lovely home 
 for the child." 
 
 She gathered his little body more closely to her and 
 sat staring into the fire. Somehow in those few mo- 
 ments she seemed to grow suddenly old; the youthful 
 sunny smile left her face so that it became like that of 
 an old tired woman. 
 
 Abruptly, shaken by a feeling I scarcely understood, 
 I burst into tears and flung myself down by her, bury- 
 ing my face against her. 
 
 " There, there," she murmured as she patted my 
 shoulders. " There's nothing to cry about. It does 
 seem a pity just when we'd found a little house out 
 here which would suit me to the T. But it can't be 
 helped. Popper and I'll sure miss our Ed, and you 
 too, Margaret, I've grown mighty fond of you. But 
 we must still find a smile. And you'll come over and 
 give us a sight of you sometimes, won't you? " 
 
 I raised my head and kissed her passionately. And 
 in that moment I knew that I had found one friend 
 where I least expected it, in Eddie's mother. And 
 I loved her as I might have loved my own 
 mother. . . . 
 
 " Well, Margaret Miller," I said bitterly after she 
 had gone, " you have your desire. But what of Mar- 
 garet Boynton ? " 
 
 Was it possible that so few years had passed since I 
 [298]
 
 Sunrise 
 
 had said with childish confidence, " I won't ever leave 
 my home," and then the power which shapes our des- 
 tinies had moved another pawn to check me and my 
 determination had been of no avail. I had been set 
 down on a new chess-board and the shaping of my life 
 had begun anew. 
 
 Now I had an opportunity of going back to the old 
 life again, but would it be the old? Could anything 
 ever vie with success and achievement as the main 
 objects in Eddie's life? He had the vital fighting 
 energy which is never content unless there is a new 
 big goal ahead; if I could help him to develop other 
 interests which would keep him from being entirely im- 
 mersed in the hardening struggle to get to the top, 
 that was all I could expect. It wasn't that he was 
 mercenary, very far from that, it wasn't just the get- 
 ting of money which urged him on. It was the power 
 to do, to achieve which spurred his restless ambition. 
 And what would he do at Sunnydale, in that quiet 
 peaceful corner of the world? 
 
 " He is making a tremendous sacrifice for you," my 
 conscience urged. But had I not given up so much for 
 him ! " Because you wanted to. He showed from 
 the first that he wouldn't give up his life here, he 
 warned you that you were marrying an American. 
 Now you are forcing him to make this sacrifice! " 
 
 Suddenly came the memory of that old condemna- 
 tion of my mother. Because she had extracted prom- 
 ises, so had I judged the smallness of her love. Yet 
 was mine any deeper? Did we all use the instinct of 
 
 [299]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 a man's love to get what we wanted? All that was 
 decent in me rebelled against the pettiness of using 
 such a means. 
 
 In the effort to get away from such unwelcome 
 thoughts I took out Mary Harden's letters and read 
 them again. In the midst of all her work she had yet 
 found time to think of me and in the scraps she wrote 
 from all sorts of queer places, I had come to know her 
 better, to find that in the gradual knowledge of her 
 deep human sympathy, my former fear of her intel- 
 lectual superiority had been put to sleep. I knew that 
 when she returned I should have the courage to seek 
 her friendship without fear, knowing that affection is 
 a mighty equaliser. 
 
 Through all her words breathed selflessness; it was 
 the keynote of the struggle over there, a glorious un- 
 selfishness which conquered the needs of the individual, 
 turning the natural instinct for self-preservation into a 
 pouring out of effort for the majority. Her intense 
 conviction shamed the narrowness of my desires, sug- 
 gesting a further vision that made me tremble. For 
 it was of the spread of this selflessness to America to 
 my husband, so that he went away from me, so that I 
 let him go, ungrudgingly, so that in the end there was 
 nothing left to me but Meadowmere. And the empti- 
 ness of such a future was a terrible thought. 
 
 I began to realise that I must choose again, not in 
 the spirit in which the first choice had been made, with 
 a lingering hope of having all as I would have it, but 
 completely, with better understanding. Either the old 
 
 [300]
 
 Snnrise 
 
 life with a husband whose birthright of fighting energy 
 would be sacrificed to love for me, who had once 
 warned me that such a sacrifice might develop a life- 
 long feeling of injury and resentment; or the new life, 
 in my husband's country, casting away for ever the 
 hope of Meadowmere, so that the feeling of restless 
 transience might turn into the acceptance of a new 
 home, so that in love and duty I might send into the 
 accepted soil strong shoots which would take perma- 
 nent root. Thus without inward strife, work reso- 
 lutely for that growth of mind and spirit which brings 
 the hope of ultimate fulfilment. 
 
 Vaguely, blindly, I reached after this perfection, 
 the limited perfection which the human mind can 
 understand, so that when the end came I could look 
 back and think " I have struggled, I have grown a 
 little, I have learned something out of life. I have 
 given something to life, a human being to whom I 
 have tried to suggest the same yearning towards the 
 ultimate good, so that when his life is also done, he 
 may look back and know the same gleam of under- 
 standing. It could only be a gleam because of the 
 lack of vision, but it might be just enough to enable 
 me to fold my hands in peace and die, not in fear, 
 perhaps hardly in faith, but with a sense of content- 
 ment in leaving all the struggles, the little growth, the 
 widening view, to the judgment of a Being who, if 
 he be there to judge, will possess a perfect under- 
 standing." 
 
 So through much inward contention, through self- 
 
 [ 301 ]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 ish demands to take what was offered to me, I reached 
 my resolve and peace came to me. And in the victory 
 I was conscious of three friends of Eddie's mother, 
 of Mary Harden and my neighbour. 
 
 [302]
 
 Chapter Five 
 
 IT was a Sunday in late October, so warm that we 
 were still enjoying open windows. As I was bath- 
 ing the child, Eddie sauntered into the nursery, paper 
 in hand. 
 
 "Hello, son!" he said, sticking a finger into his 
 fat chest "how much longer are you going to be? 
 You're keeping the old man from a breakfast which has 
 been tempting his appetite for hours." 
 
 " Son " gurgled and as I looked up at Eddie there 
 was something so kind and " understanding," so un- 
 usually peaceful in his smile that I said suddenly, 
 
 " Eddie, I want to tramp up to the hill-top. I want 
 to see the sun rise. Won't you come with me, next 
 Sunday?" 
 
 He looked rueful. " I'd have to get up darned 
 early." 
 
 " Would you mind for once? " I said, laughing at 
 the face he pulled. 
 
 " Hard luck, my son ! " he answered, addressing the 
 baby whose mood had changed with its usual rapidity 
 and whose lungs were now open in a full-mouthed yell 
 " Hard luck, ain't it, when you have to give up your 
 well-earned Sunday morning nap? " 
 
 I caught the reflection of the group in the mirror 
 
 [ 303 J
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 opposite, Eddie bending over the child, holding a 
 pink hand, the baby warm and sweet and soft, and I, 
 with tender glowing eyes. The vision of the woman 
 in the flaming dress had gone for ever, so had the 
 young girl with the wistful look. In their place was 
 a woman, smiling in love and happiness and content- 
 ment, smiling as had her great-grandmother in the 
 picture in the hall of Meadowmere. The bond of hus- 
 band, wife and child and the conquest of self! . . . 
 
 There was a sense of mystery and adventure as we 
 tramped through the dark woods in the early morning. 
 Just as we reached the top of the ridge the day began 
 to dawn and gradually before our eyes the view wid- 
 ened till it extended to the sky line on the far distant 
 plain. 
 
 " The setting is like Sunnydale, but the feeling is 
 quite different ! " It was larger, more rugged, less 
 peaceful the prim hedges, the neatness of the tilled 
 fields was lacking. There, one had the sense of ful- 
 filment, of completion, of long possession; here was 
 the feeling of something to be done, something to be 
 achieved. 
 
 On the right a new bridge was being built, and I 
 saw the gleam of yellow upturned earth, and the new- 
 ness and whiteness of the stonework. On the left were 
 the beginnings of a new suburb, with its unfinished 
 roads, its piles of building material, and half-com- 
 pleted houses. At Sunnydale the scene had made for 
 peace and a quiet enjoyment of finished possessions; 
 
 [304]
 
 Sunrise 
 
 here was the goad to endeavour, the large landscape 
 waiting for the willing hand, the possibility of what 
 might be done, the hope of finally achieving some- 
 thing. There was as much difference as between a 
 piece of marble on which the sculptor's hand has been 
 chiselling for endless years, and the new mass on which 
 he has hardly yet begun. 
 
 I turned to Eddie and his attitude gave me a 
 memory of that other day at Sunnydale when I had 
 admired that look of competency, of being ready to 
 fight against all the adverse forces in the world. But 
 now in his face was a self-repression which hurt me 
 and eagerly I gave him back his freedom. 
 
 " Eddie, / want to give up my inheritance of 
 Meadowmere," I said firmly, " I want to give it and 
 all that belongs to it to Tom and his heirs for ever and 
 and ever I " 
 
 His gaze came back from the wide landscape with a 
 start, 
 
 " Meadowmere to Tom ! But we're going to live 
 there." 
 
 " No, we're not, we're going to stay right here." 
 
 " I don't understand, I thought you I thought it 
 was what you wanted most in the world." 
 
 " It was, but not at such a sacrifice to you. I know 
 what it would mean to you, I have reckoned it all up, 
 and I can't accept the sacrifice. It wouldn't be fair, 
 it would be going back on the spirit of what I prom- 
 ised when I said I would give up everything for you." 
 
 His face grew more buoyant as relief spread over it. 
 
 [305]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 " But you ? Would you be happy here? " 
 
 " Yes. It's because my heart has been set on the 
 realisation of my old dream that my life here has been 
 full of friction. It's because I have never given up 
 the thought of going back to Meadowmere and all that 
 it would mean. Now I am going to begin the new 
 life in real earnest, but I must put it out of my power 
 to long for the old if Meadowmere still belonged to 
 me I might not be able not to hope that we should 
 go to it." 
 
 "Couldn't you let it?" 
 
 "No!" I burst out passionately. "Meadowmere 
 shall never be let to strangers." And then with the 
 knowledge that Eddie did not, could not understand 
 this passionate love for a place, for an inheritance, 
 for the connecting link in the long line to which I 
 belonged, I made my voice more gentle. " A Miller 
 must live there, the owner of Meadowmere. There 
 are duties to the people, to the land, to the future. It 
 is right that Tom should have it, he was brought up 
 to look upon it as his inheritance, and it was not alto- 
 gether his fault that he was turned out. He will ap- 
 preciate it now, and the people love him. I think 
 Father would have wished it, and I shall be happy to 
 think he is there. Perhaps in time, some day, his chil- 
 dren will be running on the lawns." 
 
 A lump came to my throat as I said good-bye to 
 that old dream. " But there is one other thing, is it 
 unfair to our son? It is a great inheritance, will he 
 reproach me some day ? " 
 [306]
 
 Sunrise 
 
 " No ! " said my husband proudly, " his inheri- 
 tance shall be here, it will be all right, I will see to 
 that." 
 
 I smiled, perhaps a little sadly. " Yes, he will in- 
 herit his father's work, his father's achievements. But 
 I shall have a big part, to bring him up to be a worthy 
 link in the generations to follow, so that in him will 
 be combined the virtues of the old and the new ven- 
 eration, love of home, sympathy with sorrow which life 
 in Sunnydale taught me, and vitality, and pride in 
 honest achievement, typical of the new. He will be a 
 fine man, our son, Eddie ! " 
 
 " Thanks to you ! " he answered in a low voice. 
 
 I looked towards the risen sun ; there was no sound 
 but a faint rustling in the trees behind us, and far 
 away a bell which called the people to early worship. 
 The light was around us, another day had dawned. 
 
 Good-bye, Meadowmere England! I said in my 
 heart, and the scene was shut out by the tears which 
 filled my eyes. 
 
 " Margaret ! " Eddie's voice was a whisper, uncer- 
 tain, " I can't tell you but you know how I thank 
 you." 
 
 I turned my back upon the world behind me. 
 " Eddie, when you asked me if I would not give up 
 everything for you and I answered * yes/ I did not 
 know then. Now I say 'yes' again, understanding 
 what I say." 
 
 His arms were round me, and with the glowing sun 
 upon his face, his eyes looked down upon me with a 
 
 [307]
 
 Sunrise from the Hill-Top 
 
 light which thrilled me. " I love you ! " he whispered 
 and kissed me. 
 
 And we went down the hillside, back to the life 
 which was before us, back to our sleeping child. 
 
 THE END 
 
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